#but please understand that sometimes its better to just choose someone else to attack

[neon-moon-beam]

I haven’t touched PLA in almost 6 months. 

As always, please don’t send me your headcanons, theories, etc. I don’t like to discuss these things with strangers. I’m also not interested in arguing over my opinions, or calling anyone out specifically, nor am I saying all headcanons, au’s, are bad, etc. And please don’t ask for my approval of yours’! Make what you want, just please be considerate of how you portray characters and whether or not making an OC might be a better choice!

bl*nkshippers dni--I will block you.

Sometimes I think about shiny hunting, since the shiny spawn rate in that game is ridiculous, but the game itself made me feel bad because the plot is that you do everything literally everyone asks, but NONE of it helps the player character (or Ingo) go home. I can understand sometimes devs run out of time and sideplots resolve quickly and/or anticlimactically, but not only were some sideplots just dropped, but the main plot as well! Story is one of the most important parts of a game for me, and PLA seemed to not even know what it wanted the story to be. “Complete a PokeDex. Wait, stop Dialga and Palkia. Oh wait, the real issue here is Volo with Giratina! Oh, finish the PokeDex. Show Arceus around...perpetually?” The “ending” is unsatisfying. There’s no payoff. We don’t even find out why two characters have been misplaced in the first place, or if they return home! Yeah, Arceus wanted the PokeDex done, but why was this urgent, and why did this require sending almost definitely Dawn/Lucas back in time? Why wasn’t the player character an ancestor? When a game poses more questions than it answers, it’s often a sign that the storytelling is not good. Some mystery is OK, and not being able to know every last thing is realistic, but dropping everything seems like all the developer effort went elsewhere, they ran out of time, or in some cases, are DLC or sequel-baiting (and doing so via dropping the plot is poor).

It also feels like PLA didn’t bring much to the table in the end; we had some new mechanics that might not even return for Scarlet and Violet, a few regional variants, and one (hideous) new Force of Nature. Being able to choose when Pokemon evolve was great--no more having to press B after every level up or perpetually have an Everstone. Sneaking up and throwing a ball at Pokemon was fun. Being able to send out Pokemon almost anywhere and interact with them was fun. But on the other hand, the trade-off seemed to be the plot, as well as so much of what made battling fun. Abilities are gone and Pokemon can’t hold items. I didn’t enjoy Strong and Agile style, nor did I enjoy that I could only use one Pokemon while someone else sent out three, or getting attacked by multiple wild Pokemon at once. It felt unfair, especially because at times level seemed meaningless when 3-4 Pokemon could attack twice before mine could get a hit in.

PLA itself wasn’t advertised as open-world--fans made that assumption based on the trailers. Scarlet and Violet are supposed to be open world and if some of the mechanics are reused (it’s rumored many won’t be), that makes PLA sound like a test room that was released to the public with a price tag.

And then as a fan of Submas prior to PLA, PLA has now left me wondering if they’re just going to ruin two of my favorite characters, And fan spaces have become unbearable in response to PLA, when they could have been a refuge from a game that left Dawn/Lucas and Ingo’s fates up in the air. First it was overwhelming angst, often without resolution. When you’re not a fan of that, it gets tiring and alienating. Then other trends picked up, such as specifically making Emmet and Volo ooc in order to make them “unhinged”, ships that more often than not center on the characters being unhinged and possibly abusive to each other, bl*nkshipping rearing its head again (though thankfully much more people are opposed to it than during Gen 5′s initial run), Submas and Volo being ooc to the point of asking, “Why didn’t this person just make an OC?”, and of course, the ableism. 

As someone who played PLA and combed through every inch of it in order to make reassurance posts for anyone worried they might just leave Ingo, it was disheartening to see how much content that made fan spaces unbearable for me came from fans who hadn’t even played PLA, and/or their takeaway from the game was “Submas = angst” and “Volo and Emmet are unhinged and will hurt anyone given the chance!” I’m aware that some people may be unable to play PLA for whatever reason, and this isn’t about them. This is about people who haven’t played and won’t play, or played and didn’t bother to think critically about what they just played, who just came for the angst and/or s*xymen, and rendered complex, canon characters into two-dimensional OCs without giving any regard to the source material and what the game devs showed regarding these characters, to the extent that fans not into this kind of content, or not wanting to constantly engage with this kind of content became alienated from their own space.

Volo is a complex character dealing with some deep-seeded trauma that, unfortunately due to the story being dropped, we don’t really get any details about what happened. We do however, get hints in-game that he’s not a completely bad person, but more morally grey, likely a more good-aligned character having a bad moment. And Emmet isn’t even in PLA! As of right now, we don’t even know that Ingo is “missing” in the present day. For all we know, Ingo will be returned to the exact moment he was pulled from and nobody will even know, or the devs may go on to say PLA isn’t canon in some way. But for people to take these characters and run wild with angst and then get ableist on two autistic-coded characters (for the second time in 10 or so years), has been a huge turnoff in engaging in any fan spaces, and I wonder if the devs had more time to develop and finish the story, or whatever the issue was that led to this game being released unfinished with little hope of a DLC, if we could have gotten more answers and maybe the fandom wouldn’t have taken this kind of content too far. Many people have tried to address the ableism (here is a link to Submas Autistic Joy’s resources, a by no means exhaustive collection of such posts), but people are going to make what they’re going to make, whether it’s appropriate or not, and sometimes this means people have to leave the fan space, or create their own, which has become sadly necessary here.

PLA looked like it was going to be a great game, but it needed more time and care than apparently the devs were able to give it, and unfortunately in fan spaces, it seems characters in or associated with PLA are all too often not being given time, care, and tact in how they’re being portrayed. All of these issues have made me come to not care for PLA at all.

[coatl-cuddles]

A menagerie of art fight attacks with varying degrees of effort. I had to adjust how I normally equal quality for a few of my latest attacks and had to make up for it in time + quality. So please forgive the shitty anatomy.

Speaking of that reasoning....

RANT TIME:

If you participate in art fight please be courteous to the artists you attack. Art Fight is just for fun but it's still "technically" a competition. Do not barely do cell-shading or not shade at all and then label your pieces Fully Shaded. Do not do sloppy unclosed lines where the marks very obviously overlapped and are not your usual style of lineart and then call it "clean lined".

Don't be a fucking dick ok. Fully shaded pieces are A LOT of points and I mean A LOT. Barely doing a single cell shading (where it's not across the entire piece with clear reference to where the shadows are going and can be clearly seen) is NOT the same as fully shaded. In order for people to make those points back people either need to give you MORE quality art then you gave them or they need to do extra attacks. It's not fair to the people you're attacking who are trying to give you the same quality you give them, but then you half ass yours and then claim it for more points.

Please be respectful to the other artists on the site and be aware and polite to them.

If someone states that they don't draw something, you attack them, and then your ocs are ONLY of stuff they listed they won't draw that's an asshole move. If you purposefully half ass attacks and then label them for higher points that's an asshole move. If you draw someone's oc and specifically leave out OVER half the details that's a dick move (I'm talking like getting rid of EVERY pattern, drawing the hair wrong, wrong eye color, wrong gender, etc mixed in the same piece) just to get the generic look of it down so you can rush it out for points that's an asshole move.

If you can't draw someone's characters and it's an attack (not a revenge) then choose someone else. It's not that hard. If it's a revenge then do your best and talk to the artist if you have questions or concerns.

Please be considerate to other artists and try to give them the same quality of art they will give to you. If you are not experienced enough to be able to equal the same quality of someone else PLEASE choose someone else to attack. Beginner artists are more than welcome during art fight and there are PLENTY of people who gladly go back and forth with you, but please be aware that if you attack someone then that's YOUR choice and you're choosing to put yourself in a position where someone is politely expected to return art to you. Don't make them waste their time giving you high quality art for work you didn't try on.

Ok rant over sorry about that.

TL;DR:: don't just push out attacks with purposefully low amounts of effort to farm points and then expect people to give you high quality art in return for free.

I was talking about this issue with about 8 other people in a discord server today and it happens so much nowadays it's really sad.

Please just be respectful to other artists and know that they want to give you the best art they can and it's not fair if you only attack people half assedly for points or can't give them the same quality of effort they'll be giving you.

[jtrokujo]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇𝐘 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂¿

paring: Mikaela Hyakuya x fem!Reader

(they’re 18+!!!)

word count: 4k

warning: this story contains sexual content

gerne: smut

summary: there are days when they get along well but there were also days when they hated each other like the plague and even though they love each other?

—

The weather is neutral, but I wish it got better.

The sun is obscured by the gray clouds, but it's not windy or anything.

You could even go out with a top.

However, y / n decided to take a seat in the four walls with a number of different books and a tall pile of books right next to them.

As she gently leafed through the pages of the somewhat older book, she felt a stab.

Of course it didn't hurt since no one was attacking her, but it felt like someone was watching her.

Without presenting her feelings, she took some books and put the rest where she got them.

Immediately after leaving the library, she stopped in the middle of the path and said with an annoyed sigh, "Bathory, I know you're here."

He stands grinning in front of y / n, but could hardly show a disappointed face.

With his head tilted to one side, he looked at his prey and smiled at her immediately. "I prefer you to call me by my first name, dear."

“I do what I want and not what you want, Bathory. Besides, I have better things to do than waste my precious time being influenced by you. "

When they told the vampire, she continued on her way, or at least intended to.

As quickly as he came, he grabbed her arm just as quickly. "But y / n, why is it in such a hurry?" asked the vampire, amused, pressing more and more on hers with every second, so slowly you could hear her bones. Y / n had to react immediately!

Without thinking for a second, she dropped all of the books on the white floor and immediately grabbed her gun. "You should let go of me!" y / n's voice rang out down the hall and immediately shot the vampire in the arm.

His blood spurted around her.

Y / n got his blood on her face as well as on her clothes - it was the same with Bathory, also the wall and especially the floor got his blood.

"Disgusting." mumbled y / n and wiped the blood on her face, although she knew herself that it would be of no use.

"What's going on here?" Everyone but not him.

"Hello Mika!" said Ferid with delight and turned to get a better look at him.

"Have you lost your nerve again?" he asked me annoyed, but he only looked at me for a few seconds and immediately saw Ferid's blood spatter.

"What do you mean 'again'?"

Even if we've known each other for a long time, we both have to admit that one and the other have diverged. Sometimes it was his fault, sometimes it was me. There were of course moments when we got along really well, but in the end they weren't enough in my opinion.

"Since you've lived with us, at least one vampire must have got something from your weapon."

Said the blond-haired vampire while his eyes stared at me.

I'm not understating when I say that his eyes alone make me feel naked.

Mika only manages to control me through his eyes, even though I should be the one who should control every vampire or the various books I spend most of my time on just one more bad joke.

It was enough for vampires to exist and more than hundreds of people took their own lives just to be able to enjoy themselves. To this day I cannot forgive any of the vampires for what they did to me or those around me. I know myself that there are bad ones, but what is their goal?

Or do you have a goal?

"Y / n." I heard his voice.

Awakened from my trance, I see his eyes again. However, they do not have this previous aura, no, they are a little stricter this time. When I gave him a sign of his attention, the lecture immediately came, "You are old enough to know how to behave and with whom to behave. If you show this behavior to someone else, I'll let that person do it . " and do what they want, because I haven't had the nerve for someone like you for a long time. So finally know your limits before I use my weapon against you! "

Impressive. From sentence to sentence his voice grew louder and louder. Seriously, I never expected or even had the idea of ​​this side of Mika in my life, but here it is. Wonderful y / n, now you have managed to sink deeply with Mika, which is actually the very last thing I ever wanted to achieve in my life, but life has never been a paradise.

With a chuckle, Bathory put his arm and my shoulders and spoke to Mika.

"But, but Mika shouldn't be so strict with her. She's just a little girl again, not even now, is she?" "If I were that little girl, you would surely have two arms instead of one." After saying my sentence, I picked up the books that were still on the floor and didn't say goodbye to anyone, why should I?

Bathory is nothing more than an idiot who uses his satisfaction to see others suffer rather than provoke them too.

While Mika nudges both children like a father, although the other is to blame for everything.

When I got to my room, I put the books on my table and sat on my bed, thinking about the old days. However, I don't think of the days with loved ones that I lost, but of those that I spent with Mika before he gave me a “better life”.

I could leave it all behind at any time and either not start an old or a new life, but I love to have him in my heart for it.

Sighing at my thoughts, I give up and stood in front of my closet for the next minute.

While the lukewarm water felt the white bathtub, my clothes landed on the floor.

This life is more of a calling expected of others than a life of its own. A break does no harm to anyone.

I said to myself and after a few seconds I closed my eyes.

After my bath or a break from the real world, I'm just choosing which book to read.

As I was about to start the new book, someone knocked on my door.

Hesitantly, I said the door was open and waited for the person behind it to appear. Please leave it all but Bathory.

Sighing, I immediately put my hand on my left breast and saw him, Mika.

To be honest, I'm happy to see him, but I'm not, but I don't need an explanation. "Good evening." he said in his usual tone. Without making a big head out of it, I repeated it myself, but added if he needed anything from me.

Shivering, I answered my question in the negative and came up to me with slow steps.

The only thing I could do was do nothing. I stopped. When our faces are a few centimeters away, his arm came slowly towards my body, until he reached for something, when he had this in his hand, he came back with a few steps and immediately held a book in my face.

"I really recommend it, I have to say, you have pretty good taste when it comes to books. I've read it several times because these stories, the writing style, the plot and most of all the characters are up to me." uniquely well written down to the smallest detail. "

I looked at the vampire in amazement. "You read that too?" "Y / n, if I hadn't read it, I wouldn't have a clue either."

A little ashamed of my oh-so-intelligent question, I also looked at the floor.

The whole time there was nothing to be heard, neither a little intoxication, nor even breathing. But after a few seconds, Mika also broke the embarrassing silence by taking a few steps and holding out his arm to me. I don't understand it about myself. When Mika is around, I either act annoyed or neutral. However, countless butterflies gather in my stomach when I think of him alone!

"Y / n ... y / n?!" Mika looked up, gave me a neutral look and at the same time held a few strands of my hair and asked me if he should tie my hair up with a towel. I gently took the wet strands of hair from his hand and began to giggle at my discomfort and nervousness. The thought of me being weird was always out of the question.

"I think I'll blow dry my hair. I'll see you at dinner or tomorrow."

"I'll see you at dinner or tomorrow." repeated Mika before she disappeared from my room.

Locked in the room and caught in his deepest thoughts, he stared over the ceiling.

The reviews of that day haunted him to this day when he also dreamed them.

Sleeping now wouldn't be for him, even though it is shortly before 2 o'clock.

But what can you do about it?

The vampire rose from the bed, stretched out, and decided to go for a walk immediately.

As he walked through the empty corridors, he always hoped not to meet anyone.

Whatever stays that way.

Bored and hands in his pockets, the floor caught his attention. It didn't take long, however, because he was amazed to get up when he saw the light coming from someone's room.

He was more than sure whose room, or rather chamber, it was.

It was Y / n's.

He stopped in front of it, thinking, held out his hand and wanted to knock on the door. At the same time he quickly put his hand in his pocket. This scenario takes about 3 minutes. But it wasn't the vampire's nervousness that was unusual, no, why should he be at y / n's door? This is funny.

Doesn't he often seem annoyed or stern in your presence?

Well, he doesn't even know what's going on in his head.

After an eternity, the vampire finally knocked on the human's door and immediately heard "Come in" from the other side.

Without telling himself twice, he opened the door and saw her. He saw her spread out on the large bed with several notes and books.

Stressed out. You can't see it from the outside, but even Mika can confess that he thinks it is strange to see y / n at this time.

"Do you need something?" she asked him and fixed him with her gaze.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping long ago?" he asked and at the same time crossed his arms over his chest.

"Mika, I could ask you that too, don't you think?" sigh y / n and slowly start piling up her notes and books together.

When Mika offered her help, she politely declined and slowly and carefully put the things on her desk.

"If you have nothing special to do, you can always keep me company, you know?"

Yes, even if there is an argument between the two, they still get along well. However, they don't seem to be as close as they used to be. Without saying anything, Mika accepted the offer and sat next to y / n.

Was that really wise?

The smell of y / n gets over his head, but he's not as easy to lose control as other vampires.

Breathing hard, Mika rubbed her eyes and hoped that this unbearable smell would go away any moment.

Easier said than done.

If only I had drunk blood in the last few days. The vampire cursed.

Y / n noticed his unusual behavior and tried to communicate with him, but to no avail. She called his name several times, tapped him on the shoulder, and shook him a little. He seems trapped in his own world. For the first time she seemed to see someone so trapped in his own world. When will he regain his senses?

Annoyed, she hit his skull with her fist, which led to a groan of pain from Mika's mouth. "What does this mean?!"

“If you are tired, please go to your room and sleep there.

Both rolled their eyes in annoyance.

"You have nothing to say to me, human."

"Oh really? What are you going to do about it, vampire?" It wasn't a mistake by y / n, but rather Mika's mistake. If he hadn't called her a human, she wouldn't have called him a vampire. Nobody except Mika knows right now how much he hates vampires and yet he is one himself, but you have to remember that he never wanted to be one. Not everyone is lucky in life.

As I said, even if it was his own fault that she reminded him, he completely lost his nerve. Slowly she approached y / n, she already felt the dark aura coming towards her. However, y / n did not want to show the fear that is in her and slowly rising above her head. She will regret it. "Repeat when you have the pity." "What is the problem? You called me human and I called you a vampire, but you know what makes me be silly, get out of here, vampire. ”Without further ulterior motives, Mika grabbed her wrist and squeezed the bones with her hand listened from print to print. When she wanted to reach for her gun, which is under her top, Mika was a second faster and threw it directly to the end of the room. When Mika immediately released his hand from Y / n's wrist, she saw an emotion in his eyes, sadness.

He was hurt, but shouldn't he care? What should a little person who plays with little guns do against a vampire, ask him about a game? However, he saw her more as a person, he saw her as someone he can love, with whom he can laugh, of course he had had these people before in his life, but they have long since disappeared. Oh how much he loves her.

If only she knew how many letters he wrote her, but never gave them to her, but hid them in his room.

"I'm really stupid." Mika muttered trembling to herself. Y / n heard it and slowly walked up to him "Mika, that was very childish of me and, to be honest, I'm sorry." When she tried to touch his shoulder, he knocked her away and looked into her eyes, it was their fault.

“I don't want your decisions! I never wanted to be a vampire! If you don't know anything about me, please be quiet and think twice before you open your door! ”The whole room went quiet, pretty quiet. It was rather uncomfortably quiet for y / n, but she preferred to keep her mouth shut because it looked like Mika was looking for the right words. "Why do I love you? Tell me Y / N, how can I love you when you hate me so much?" His voice was fragile and it was tormented to hear it that way. "Mika, I had never hated you before." Exhausted, Mika sat down on the floor and looked at the gun at the other end of the room. "Every time I see a gun like that, I hate myself even more." “Even if it sounds a bit clichéd, for example because of the current situation, I have to and want to admit that I love you Mika. You are in such pain and apparently you have torn old wounds. You didn't deserve that, nobody deserved that. ”Y / n sat like Mika on the floor and hugged him. Her warm body against his cold one. As if in slow motion, their faces stood a few inches apart until their lips met.

𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏

With my hands on the back of his neck and my tongue seeking his, his fingertips dance from my thigh under my top.

Only he managed to make me shiver everywhere in a few seconds with the help of his touch. Not through his ice-cold skin, no, only through him. In keeping with the mood, the cold raindrops hit my window pane. "Waiting." he whispered to me.

Not a second later it was pitch black in my room. The butterflies in my stomach just like Mika don't know when to stop, but I love it, never let it stop! His lips kissed every inch of my skin and whispered to me how divine my body was. His hands slide up my top until it finally brushes over my head. The first item of clothing is already on the floor. My legs were around his waist so he could pick me up and lay me on my bed. When he did that, his lips were still on my skin.

As I lay down comfortably, I watched his clothes land piece by piece on the floor. His belly is built like that of a Greek god and although it is dark the moon shines on him. One could have immediately thought it was a godsend. The boxer shorts were the only items of clothing that remained. While I was about to take off my pants, Mika took my hands and indicated that he could do it himself. When my pants peeled off my skin, he looked at my legs in admiration and immediately threw my pants on the floor. Now stand half-naked in front of my bed. The red cheeks on his cheeks were clearly visible. "Are we really supposed to pull this off?" I asked Mika and looked him in the eye. His lips approached my ear and he breathed softly, "Y / n, the question is not, we should, but we can. A human and a vampire, is that a good chemistry?"

"Why don't we want to find out?" I whispered and kissed his shoulder in time. Now he looked at me again, but with clearly red cheeks you could have thought he had a fever, but I can't blame him, because even when his ice-cold body is on top of mine, my body manages to have a hot temperature.

As our tongues played with each other again, our hands explored each other's bodies. While one hand pinches my buttocks, the other is right on my bra clasp.

Moaning slightly, I also pinched his buttocks and felt my muscles tense. A low gasp left his delicate lips, which made me even weaker. My temperature rises more and more with each of his touches.

I can not stand it anymore!

He knows very well that he has the upper hand!

When my bra, like the rest of the clothes, landed on the floor, his ice-cold hands brushed my arms up to my hips and brushed the last piece of clothing across the floor.

I was breathing hard down in my zone.

His hands were on each thigh so I couldn't pinch my legs together. Apart from the horniness, I could hardly move my legs because of his strength, you can not say that he is so strong. The horniness in me is going like crazy! With every breath Mika takes against my area, the butterflies in my stomach fly crazier.

When his tongue brushed my cervix for less than a second, I let out a gasp. Immediately afterwards he pressed his tongue against it and danced with it at the same time. That I'm getting wetter is not only clear to me, but also to Mika, when he was his tongue in my entrance, she explored every single inch inside.

Overwhelmed by shame and lust, I pressed one hand against my mouth so as not to make a noise from you, and the other on his white-blonde hair.

Every time his tongue penetrated deeper and he spread my thighs wider and wider, it honestly hurt, but I don't care about that at the moment because as good as he makes me feel no one is going to do it and I want it too nobody does it because I just want them. Because I just want Mika.

When I thought it couldn't get better, I was wrong. When he started sucking, I was done. My lustful moans got louder every time I sucked, but I do my best that nobody but Mika can hear it. When he freed his tongue from the entrance again, he stuck his middle and ring finger in the next second and didn't give me a second to get used to it. The speed of his fingers is unique!

No matter how much I press my hand against my mouth, my moans stay louder.

Several times his name groaned, which only drove him to increase the speed. My orgasm is nourishing. When I groaned and said I was about to be there, he didn't stop but continued. His tongue dances on my cervix and his fingers successfully hit the G-spot every time, it's just breathtaking!

When my orgasm came, I screamed his name with relish and breathed heavily as I stared at the ceiling.

His beautiful face approached mine, but he devoted his lips to my ears and whispered, "A second round won't hurt you." Aren't my trembling legs enough for him? In the middle of the kiss, I slowly felt his member inside me, but my nails clawed behind his back in pain, we continued the kiss. Now it was Mika who groaned in the middle of the kiss. He closed his eyes and kissed my chest as his hips began to dance. Is it still normal for him to make me feel this way? Because on the one hand I can no longer, on the other hand I want more! Mika's one hand is on my thigh while the other is on my chest. The way he plays sensitive nipples is superb.

I don't know how he makes me feel so good, but I want him to never stop. "Mika, don't stop." I moaned in his ear and wrapped my legs around his waist. When he saw me, I didn't know how to feel. Because his eyes are blood red! He slowly approached my neck. That cold breath worried me even more. He didn't bite me, however, but instead scratched his designated spot with his fangs as the blood flowed from the wound, so it propelled him and made him much faster than before. The clap of our skin was just as loud as the satisfying moans from our mouths. "Y / n." he groaned my name and immediately turned me around. Now my back was visible to him. With both hands on our hips, our bodies clapped together. When I moaned his name one last time, the orgasm came, Mika pulled his member out of me and rubbed it with his hand until finally the white sperm speared out of his body.

𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏

After Mika helped me cleanse my body, we are back in bed naked. "Do you think we can do it?" Mika asked out of nowhere. “I don't think so, I know, Mika. And I think you should too. "The vampire looked at me lovingly and finally kissed me on the lips and immediately afterwards whispered" Good night, y / n. " "Good night, Mika."

[thefanficmonster]

Casual

Ranboo x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None, unless talking about the future counts

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Following the arrival of the dreadful invitation to his cousin’s wedding Ranboo turns to the only cover-up he can think of to keep his still-single status hidden from his family.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so glad you sent your idea to me and I’m so glad you were my first official Ranboo request. I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to write it but I still hope you’ll come across it and read it! Love, Vy ❤

“Heyyy, so Y/N, I have a favor to ask you...um yeah, call me back, it’s awkward sending it via voicemail. Bye“

Huh - that’s the first thought that goes through my head when I listen to the voicemail left after a missed call from my best friend Ranboo. The favors he usually asks for consist of requesting assistance for his videos in which I also appear with a mask and sunglasses to keep the brand running. I genuinely have nothing against my face being shown but when I think about it, I’m honestly a bit glad people can’t identify me.

Anyways, back to the favors, Ranboo is no stranger to asking me for them but they’ve never been considered too awkward for a voicemail which is why I’m no slightly concerned. I’ve been swamped with work for school and studies for the graduation finals for the past two weeks and it seems like I’ll never get on top of it and I know Ranboo’s been in a similar situation too, so maybe he needs help with that? He’s not used to asking help for school stuff, he sometimes even has a hard time accepting it when I openly offer it to him.

I eventually sigh, decide that playing this guessing game will not get me anywhere and settle on giving him a call as I make my way home from the gym with my legs barely putting up with the task of carrying me around.

He picks up on the second ring.

“Hey! Wh-...“

“Would you pretend to be my girlfriend for my cousin’s wedding next weekend?!“

My legs take that opportunity to stop moving in the middle of the sidewalk which is luckily void of any people at the moment. It’s not my fault my body’s first reaction was to freeze up at the question that came flying at me like an out-of-control jet, almost as though he’s been dying to say it and get it over with.

“Um...run that by me again please, I think I misunderstood.“ I say, blinking blankly as though awoken from a fever dream. No, actually as though I’m IN a fever dream right now.

“Ok, now that the cat’s out of the bag, wanna grab some coffee and talk about it face-to-face. I need to see your facial expressions to gauge what response to expect.“ He says, the previous nervousness gone and his voice calm as regularly once again.

I’m this close to face-palming but I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and bring myself to utter a reply, “Our usual spot. Be there in ten minutes.”

                                                             *  *  *

“No freaking way.“ I shake my head, folding my arms over my chest as I lean back in my seat in the booth we picked when we arrived. Good thing I got an iced coffee cause even a hot one would’ve gone cold by now considering I haven’t yet taken the time to have even a sip of it. I’ve been too busy listening to the long and short of the explanation and begging speech Ranboo probably made last night to try and convince me to agree to this nonsense. “Dude, we’ve been friends since middle school-...“

“Exactly! Who else was I gonna ask?“ He cuts me off, pleading gaze meeting my unimpressed one.

I huff before continuing my previous statement, “We’ve been friends since middle school so you know my opinion on weddings.” I put extra emphasis on the word ‘opinion’, giving him the clear hint at the distaste I’ve expressed on the topic multiple times before.

“And you know we’re on the same page there but there’s no way I can avoid going unless someone kidnaps me.“ He too now gets in the same stance as me, his coffee forgotten too.

I can’t help but snort out a little laugh, “I’d be more than happy to kidnap you considering the other option is far less appealing to me.“

He, of course, rolls his eyes at me as though he didn’t offer to do the same thing so I could avoid an exam but anyways. “So you’re gonna choose to fake a kidnapping that has the potential of landing you in jail over coming to eat some great food and maybe even have some fun at a wedding with your best friend? I’m hurt.“ He says, frowning to cover up the smile that’s fighting its way onto his face.

Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes, “I’d be kidnapping you, dummy...” I cut myself off to let out a long sigh and calm down before I go off at him. His smirk isn’t helping me much with the task either. I’ve known Ranboo long enough to know he’ll eventually convince me and he’s known me long enough to know how to do that exactly. With that in mind, there’s really no point in getting so worked up and wasting my energy. And so, despite my own rationality, I cave. “Fine, but I’m not staying the whole wedding.“

His eyes immediately light up and almost makes me feel the compromise was worth it. Almost. I mean, when you’ve been best friends with someone for so long, seeing them happy is worth more to you than your own comfort sometimes.

And he knows it too. Which is exactly why he outstretches his hand for me to shake and says: “Just one dance and you’re free to go. Deal?”

I take his hand without hesitations. That’s a better offer than I could’ve ever imagined. “Damn straight it’s a deal.“

                                                            *  *  *

“How long until you kick the heels off?“ Ranboo asks, bringing me a non-alcoholic cocktail and sitting down next to me.

I take a sip and giggle, “You kidding? I already kicked them off and replaced them with flats. I need mobility if we dance. They also lower the risk of me severing off a toe of yours if I step on you on accident.”

He laughs, clinking his glass against mine before he gets a bit more serious, “By the way, thanks for handling my family’s attack so well. I know it might’ve been a bit much but you handled it like a pro. Still, I’m sorry on their behalf.”

I shake my head and wave my hand dismissively, “Don’t mention it. I’d probably react the same way if my brother or cousin brought a date to an important family event like this.” I instinctively turn to look in the direction of where the majority of his family has gathered around, chatting with guests, smiling brightly. It’s hard not to immediately take a liking towards these people. They’ve been a second family to me ever since Ranboo and I started hanging out so I completely understand why they were so shocked to see me in the role of his ‘girlfriend’.

“I’ll tell my parents the truth later, our extended family is the ones I wanted to fool to be perfectly honest.“ He looks around as do I and we catch more than a few pairs of eyes fixated on us that turn away when they realize they’ve been spotted, “Mission accomplished by the looks of it.“

I chuckle. I’ve never felt so comfortable at a wedding before. I don’t feel stressed nor anxious despite knowing that there’s quite the number of eyes on me and there are whispers going around about my ‘relationship’ with Ranboo. It’s oddly calming and relaxing to be surrounded by some familiar and some unfamiliar faces. This cocktail is pretty great too.

Speaking of which, if it had any alcohol in it I’d blame it for the decision I’m about to make but this one’s entirely on me: I tap Ranboo with one hand while taking out my phone with the other. “If we’re already the talk of the wedding, let’s give them something to talk about.“ I say as I put up my phone, pretending to be taking a selfie leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

When I pull away I can clearly see that he’s still processing what just happened. I can’t help but burst out in a fit of laughter as I reach out to wipe the lipstick stain I left on his cheek. He looks like a lost, clueless puppy with the question: ‘what on Earth just happened???’ replaying in his head and it’s so freaking cute!

Wait....what was that? Since when do I use the adjective cute to describe Ranboo? Didn’t I think he looks handsome in a suit earlier too? The hell is with me today?

Then it hits me - the feeling isn’t foreign. Like, I know I’ve felt it before but I never analyzed it or even bothered to acknowledge it. But now that I do, I’m afraid of what it might be.

“There!“ I say, desperately trying to push the thoughts away along with this little firework show in my stomach, “Now you have pinker cheeks. Well, cheek, singular.“

As if snapping out of his state of confusion, he returns to Earth with a smirk, “Kiss the other to even it?”

Alright, his blush might not be even but mine now is and it’s ten times as intense and very much apparent but I don’t let the feeling shine through anything else as I proceed to actually kiss his other cheek too, wiping the lipstick stain.

“Thanks. You’re the best.” And just like that, as though it’s no big deal, he kisses my forehead.

See, that’s the thing, it shouldn’t be a big deal! It’s never been! This is far from the first time I’ve kissed him on the cheek or the first time he’s given me a forehead kiss. These are regular occurrences after years of this lovely friendship we have. Why do they feel so different now?

Then, much to my relief, the music starts and the lights turn off leaving only one spotlight for the groom and bride to have their first dance. They look absolutely astonishing and I can certainly say I’ve never before stopped to think that about any newly weds of the weddings I’ve preciously been to. I don’t know if it has something to do with the company I have for this particular wedding or it’s maybe the fact that my mindset’s changed over the years without me realizing.

Then I automatically look at Ranboo who just so happens to be looking at me too and all I can say is: my mindset hasn’t changed.

A loud applause takes over when the couple finish their dance, officially opening the dancefloor for any other pairs who’d like to occupy it and I’m happy to see how many people are eager to rush up with their partner.

 Ranboo gets up, putting the glass down and offers me his hand, “So, wanna dance? Don’t take this as a sign to leave though, we said one dance and you CAN leave, not SHOULD.” He says, giving me a warning look.

I roll my eyes and am about to give him some sass right back but he takes my hand and picks me up from my seat, leading me to the dancefloor.  And I gotta admit maybe it’s a good thing he did. If he left it to me I would’ve probably said no to the dance and ran the hell away. Why? - Cause I’m freaking terrified of this new mindset and point of view and these intense emotions I never used to pay any mind to before in regards to my best friend.

Friends don’t feel that way about friends. Friends don’t look at friends that way. What’s happening to me?

When I gotta look him in the eyes like this, not for the first time might I add, I can finally understand how the friends-to-lovers trope works: it’s all meaningless until it starts to mean so much to you. It’s all platonic until it reminds you of a romantic movie moment. It ‘best friends’ until it’s ‘I wish we were more than that’. It’s all casual, until it’s not.

And, unfortunately, it’s irreversible.

Damn do I wish I ran away now...

[dootdootwriting]

CONGRATS FOR 600+!!! I SAW UR EVENT SO IF I HAVE THE CHANCE, IM TAKING IT

The whole alphabet for Thoma. (Gn reader)

PLEASE dont overwork yourself though. You dont have to do it all if youre tired or something. Thank you and congrats!

600+ writing event

ty for ur request anon!! also you're funny. overwork myself? how could i possibly do that when i'm already avoiding all of my schoolwork? entire alphabet for thoma coming right up! (under the cut for length)

fluff alphabet with thoma; gn reader; no warnings apply

A-Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?)

- thoma enjoys pretty much any type of shared activities with you, but ultimately his favorite kind is any that involves food. he'll go on tours of inazuma city with you to find the best places to get ice cream, or he'll buy a whole bunch of food and see what kind of dishes you can make together! nine times out of ten it ends up being really weird and a little gross, but it's fun and he loves spending time with you.

B-Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

- he admires your ambition, your humor, and your own personal flair. he loves the person you are, and almost everything that goes into that, but he specifically loves the unique little traits that make you you.

C-Comfort (how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?)

- his first instinct is to give you a big hug or rub your back, but only if he knows you're okay with it and that it would actually help. his first goal is to make sure you're okay, and then his second goal is to cheer you up: with bad jokes and kisses, usually

D-Dreams (how do they picture the future with their s/o?)

- thoma isn't super picky with how you two end up in the future, as long as you're together and happy. he wants to grow old with you, ideally, though however you do that will decide itself.

E-Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or rather passive?)

- thoma is used to taking the lead in your relationship, but he's not necessarily more dominant or anything - he's just excited to be with you and wants to make sure you're just as happy as he is. your relationship is pretty balanced!

F-Fun (what do they do for fun with their s/o? what's their idea of a fun day out?)

- he loves loves loves going out on walks, especially in the city, and just finding random things that seem fun to do. there are a bunch of people playing cornhole over there, how about you guys join in for a game? they're selling a new kind of hotpot at that restaurant, better give it a try!

G-Gratitude (how grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?)

- he's definitely aware of everything you do for him, and he's also very grateful that you're with him. he makes sure to let you know that every day.

H-Honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?)

- i think the only time thoma would ever keep something from you on purpose is if it would be somehow dangerous for you to know. other than that, he likes to make sure you're aware of everything you need to be. he likes his privacy like anyone else, but he also values communication.

I-Inspiration (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?)

- being with you hasn't necessarily changed him (aside from the fact that you two are almost always seen together now) but it's definitely improved his mood a lot, not that it was ever really bad. he also likes to show off more now that you're around...

J-Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?)

- thoma gets jealous relatively easily but is also not one to step in unless it's a situation in which you seem uncomfortable. he trusts you wholeheartedly, which sometimes means he has to keep himself from getting overly worried.

K-Kisses (are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?).

- he's a very good kisser. thoma's kisses are playful and sweet, or alternatively full of reassurance and love. your first kiss was a little rushed and he was a little nervous (not that he'd ever admit that) but he knew it was the right time.

L-Love confession (how would they confess to their s/o?)

- confesses accidentally while watching you do something that's actually pretty normal. you tap him on the shoulder and ask where he wants to go for lunch and he just kinda stares at you and then says "man i love you" and you're like. what. but he plays it off like he TOTALLY MEANT to say that and definitely didn't slip up.

M-Mornings (what's it like waking up with them? do they sleep late or wake up before the sun rises?)

- lazy lazy lazy. thoma knows he has to go to work but why would he do that when you're next to him all curled up into him? he can't just abandon you like that! fortunately the kamisatos are very forgiving, so when he shows up late they don't give him an earful.

N-Nicknames (what do they call their s/o?)

- babe/baby, sunshine, and occasionally sweetheart but usually just to tease you

O-On cloud nine (what are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?)

- when thoma first realizes he's in love with you it hits him like a truck and he has to sit down for a second to process it. after that he hangs around you a lot more often, and it's pretty obvious to anyone watching that he's in love.

P-PDA (how are they with PDA? is it fun to them or are they more reserved with their affection?)

- thoma's comfortable with pda and likes to tease you with it sometimes, unless you're someone who absolutely hates it, in which case he'll settle with handholding. otherwise, he'll give you random light kisses on the cheek or will grab you and pull you into him at random points throughout the day.

Q-Quirk (some random thing they do when they're with you for no reason in particular)

- his nose scrunches when he's trying not to laugh at you, which makes you laugh at him, which makes him laugh at you. congratulations! you have achieved pile of laughter.

R-Romance (how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?)

- thoma is very romantic and also values friendship with his partner as well. he's sort of a mix between cliché and creative - while he will definitely take you out for a fancy dinner and lend you his jacket, he will also take you out to the lake and push you in or make a date out of who can spot the most dogs on a day out.

S-Support (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals do they believe in them?)

- one hundred percent he believes in you and will do his best to help you achieve any goals you have. ok thats the end of this headcanon i have nothing else to say GHCCN

T-Thrill (do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship or do they prefer certain routine?)

- thoma loves trying new things! he doesn't need things to change constantly (and also that might be very tiring for him) but he does like to switch things up a little.

U-Understanding (how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

- forgot to change it from "good" to "well." WHOOPS. anyway

- thoma is very empathetic, so he's quick to understand how you're feeling, though it'll take him a little longer to understand why it is you're feeling like that. once you explain to him, he knows just what to do, whether it be celebrate with you on a big win or comfort you or give you some space.

V-Value (how important is the relationship to them? What is its worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

- it's SO important to him. having you in his life is one of the most important things to him. he's also been with the kamisatos for a really long time though, so thoma will need a little bit to sort out where his priorities are. rest assured that you're definitely up there.

W-Wild card (a random fluff headcanon?)

- thoma really likes the feeling of you running your fingers through his hair. bonus points if you wash it for him (he'll return the favor)

X-XOXO (Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?)

- if you're ever available for affection, thoma will take advantage of it. he loves being close to you and generally just the feeling of loving and being loved in return, especially when that incorporates physical affection. listen he just really likes being kissed.

Y- Yearning (how will they cope when they are missing their partner?)

- when you're gone thoma will surround himself with things that remind him of you. he'll also occasionally call your name or say things to you absentmindedly before remembering you're not there at present. poor guy... he'll be very happy once you're home.

Z-Zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?)

- it depends on the lengths. the worst case scenario for thoma would be if he somehow had to choose between you and his work - that would terrify him, even though there's no way it would ever happen. other than that, since you're way up on his priority list, there's not much that he wouldn't do for you.

[hamliet]

Unless a Grain of Wheat Falls and It Dies...

Or, why I am pretty optimistic about the fates of Jean, Connie, Gabi, and all titanized people this chapter, which is also an excuse for me to talk about SnK’s allusions to Russian literature. 

There are strikingly parallel ideas The Brothers Karamazov and Attack on Titan, as well as parallel plot points and imagery to the point where if it isn’t deliberate, it’s uncanny. (NB: before people yell at me about comparing a Japanese and Russian work, Isayama has used Russian names since the start of SnK--Shiganshina is a Russian name.) In particular, there are narrative allusions to a portion of the novel known as “The Grand Inquisitor,” which is a short story within a novel. The central thesis of “The Grand Inquisitor” is as follows: 

nothing has ever been more insupportable for a man and a human society than freedom. 

This parable is told within the story by Ivan Karamazov, a character whose intellectuality is his gift and his curse. He tells his brother Alyosha that the motivation for creating this parable is precisely the evils done to children (oh look, a major SnK theme) and specifically cites an example which was unfortunately taken from real life in Russia and which Isayama has an uncanny parallel:

I want to see with my own eyes the hind lie down with the lion and the victim rise up and embrace his murderer. I want to be there when every one suddenly understands what it has all been for. All the religions of the world are built on this longing, and I am a believer. But then there are the children, and what am I to do about them? That's a question I can't answer... If all must suffer to pay for the eternal harmony, what have children to do with it, tell me, please? ... if it is really true that they must share responsibility for all their fathers' crimes, such a truth is not of this world and is beyond my comprehension. Some jester will say, perhaps, that the child would have grown up and have sinned, but you see he didn't grow up, he was torn to pieces by the dogs, at eight years old...

... How are you going to atone for them? Is it possible? ... What do I care for a hell for oppressors? What good can hell do, since those children have already been tortured? ... I want to forgive. I want to embrace. I don't want more suffering. And if the sufferings of children go to swell the sum of sufferings which was necessary to pay for truth, then I protest that the truth is not worth such a price. ... too high a price is asked for harmony; it's beyond our means to pay so much to enter on it... It's not God that I don't accept, Alyosha, only I most respectfully return Him the ticket.”

The actual parable of “The Grand Inquisitor” is Ivan’s answer to Alyosha’s question about Ivan’s lines above. Ivan tells a story about how freedom is actually what dooms humanity: it is the curse. (Alyosha does not believe this.) Jesus comes back to earth and is promptly arrested, because his existence and return threaten the wellbeing of society. To be happy, one cannot be free, but one or two strong people in society should be free and bear the burden for everyone else (you can see the parallels to King Fritz/the Reisses). 

Nothing is more seductive for man than his freedom of conscience, but nothing is a greater cause of suffering... all his life he loved humanity, and suddenly his eyes were opened, and he saw that it is no great moral blessedness to attain perfection and freedom, if at the same time one gains the conviction that millions of God's creatures have been created as a mockery, that they will never be capable of using their freedom...

This is SnK’s thesis: to be free, there will be suffering. It is part of human nature, and yet to not have it is to be lost. But SnK, despite its explorations of human darkness and monstrosity, has a higher view of humanity than does Ivan. SnK’s view is more alongside Alyosha’s, who says what is honestly the truth about not just the Reisses, but Eren now:

"Who are these keepers of the mystery who have taken some curse upon themselves for the happiness of mankind? .... It's simple lust of power, of filthy earthly gain, of domination—something like a universal serfdom with them as masters—that's all they stand for.”

Mikasa is akin to the Christ figure in the story, akin to Alyosha: Christ is constantly asked to speak, asked to act, and he does not until the very last moment, when he kisses the Grand Inquisitor on the lips. After the story is over, Alyosha then does likewise to Ivan. 

Not to mention when Alyosha worries about Ivan’s mental state, he then answers with this:

“Listen, Alyosha,” Ivan began in a resolute voice, “if I am really able to care for the sticky little leaves I shall only love them, remembering you. It's enough for me that you are somewhere here, and I shan't lose my desire for life yet.”

A simple leaf can save a life. A leaf can save the world. A leaf, grown from a tree that started as a seed falling to the ground, dead, only to grow life from that death. Alyosha himself notes SnK’s central thesis of chapter 137 in the (very long) novel’s final pages:

...some good, sacred memory, preserved from childhood, is perhaps the best education. If a man carries many such memories with him into life, he is safe to the end of his days, and if one has only one good memory left in one's heart, even that may sometime be the means of saving us.

There’s a lot more to this, but this is the epigraph to The Brothers Karamazov, the central thesis of the entire novel:

"Verily, verily, I say unto you, except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit." -John 12:24

Suffering can grow great fruit in an individual life, and by giving something up, by even death, something beautiful can come. Through cruelty, you can find life. 

This is not just a long-running theme in SnK, but a pattern in its plot. Often those who surrender then receive exactly what they had surrendered (but admittedly, not always, like Erwin). 

Mikasa accepted Eren’s loss, and got him back.

Mikasa let Armin go, and got him back.

Falco gave up hope of survival, and got another chance: 

Hange was going to die alone, feeling guilty for having failed her comrades, but saw everyone again, and they told her well done: 

Historia gave up being free, but now we know she will be.

Levi gave up on his revenge, and then got it. Annie thought she would never see her dad again, but she did. For Mikasa, accepting that she has to kill the boy she loves coincides not just with her acceptance of her love, but with the acceptance and knowledge that he loves her:

It always comes with sacrifice, increasingly hard sacrifice, but usually the seeds that are dropped grow and bloom. 

This chapter, everyone surrendered their hearts. They let their dreams fall to the ground, and I honestly think the story will allow it to plant life. Yes, the world as a whole is saved and that is enough to make thematic sense, but it works even better if the very people who were titanized this chapter also bloom again. They chose to trust Mikasa, Levi, Falco, and Pieck to finish the task.

The characters giving up their lives only to get them back make sense, and give Mikasa’s sacrifice of Eren. For Mikasa, Eren was her world, and she gave it up when she had lost everyone else. She had nothing left, and she still did it. I would hope she’d be narratively rewarded beyond just the world being saved, because Mikasa has always been motivated by her personal relationships.

Moving on from Mikasa: Connie’s mom has been kept alive and the concept of turning mindless titans back to humans was already brought up specifically in relation to her:

Connie giving up on his mother a dozenish chapters ago only to get her back now--not through sacrificing a child, but through saving the entire world--would fit the themes and patterns of SnK.

Thirdly, Gabi should not die. She’s Eren with positive development, and cannot meet the same end. Even people who are skeptical of every titan being saved seem to agree that she’ll be fine. It’s possible she’s the only one saved, but imo, not likely. 

See, the only shifter characters who are going to have the option of self-sacrifice are Falco and maaaaaybe Armin. The others look like they’re about to die right here and now, never mind choosing someone to save: the mindless titans are ripping at their napes. Armin also looks to be in bad shape. 

Yet Armin cannot narratively commit suicide; two chapters ago he was still screaming at himself for being useless and thinking he would be better off dead. He’s already tried the heroic sacrifice, too, so why would it work this time around? It does not work for his arc. Falco dying for Gabi was the plan without any freedom from the titan curse; it’s more powerful if ending the curse changes things, rather than forcing him to make the same choice that Reiner has always been trying to make: a heroic suicide. It could happen; it’s just not as narratively strong.

As for whether the worldbuilding rules, we know that mindless titans are not truly dead nor entirely mindless; they just don’t have freedom. Ymir’s case of getting herself back after decades shows that they aren’t quite dead or absorbed. They still have consciousness that can be awoken; Ymir described it as being in a long “nightmare.” Dina still went looking for Grisha. Connie’s mom remembered and recognized Connie, telling him “welcome home.” There is plenty of evidence that there are parts of these people that are still in there even if they are forced to become monsters (oh hey, it’s an Eren parallel; he was conscious of it and had choices while mindless titans do not, but the parallel remains).

[sweeter-sins]

Types of Yanderes

Authors note: I don’t condone any of this behavior

Word count: 916

There are many types of yanderes ranging from the ones that won’t hurt a hair on your head to the ones that wouldn’t hesitate to kill you. I’m going to explain some of the more common ones.

Monopoly type

This is the most common type.

"Who is that person you were talking to?"

They want to monopolize their love interest. And will ask who they're talking to and hang with, in extreme cases won't let them be with anyone else, regardless if they are well known as a mutual friend.

It displays insecurities and a lack of trust.

Dependence type

"No, don't leave me! Please! I can't live without you!"

Can't live without their love interest, and will beg them to not leave or throw them away. Claim that they will die or kill themselves if they leave. May lose will to do anything if they aren't watching. If their love intrest does, in fact, leave; they might go full crazy and end up doing something crazy like going on a murderous rampage.

The Projecter

"You're just like them."

This type of yandere is very innocent at first, but if they're given power to dominate their new beloved, they might end up trying to make them more and more like what their old interest was. For example, wearing the same things, doing the same things, etc.

Domestic Violence type

"It hurts? That's your fault! Next time learn your lesson and stop looking at other people!"

When jealous, feeling ignored, etc. uses violence against their beloved. They'll beat them and claim it's their own fault. This can be either discharging pent-up rage through violence and they just happen to be their favorite punching bag, or deliberately punishing them for doing something they didn't like.

The Delusional type

Why are you running? Darling, you just told me that you loved me, remember!?"

When their insane love is unrequited (for obvious reasons), and they start running away from the crazy person, they'll think it's because they're embarrassed, and not because they don't want them. Their love distorts the reality they perceive. They see a bunch of delusions instead.

This type may also be in denial something unpleasant happened. They'll just forget it happened. Their memories may also be replaced with delusions: they'll remember a love being extremely nice to them when they were actually indifferent, or them saying saying they liked them before they even met.

Self harm type

“Hey... hey look at the blood coming out of me”

They harm themselves, cutting wrists, etc. in order to get their interests' attention. This often happens when they're ignored. The "dependence" type might evolve into this if they are abandoned.

There are two sub-types to this;

First, the one where they harm themselves in secret and have a love notice their injuries, then they say "it's nothing to worry about" hoping they worry about it more. This is usually something light like a knee bruise.

Second, the one where they harm themselves in a love's face as a way to say "I'll kill myself if you leave me", forcing them to stay by their side by guilt.

The Worshipper

"I'll do anything for you! I'll even kill for you! Please use me however you want!"

This is one of they least violent ones. At least to you.

They worships you and will do anything for you. Sometimes even without you asking. And more: They don't even mind if you love them or not, or what will happen to them. Killing, dying, committing crimes, losing respect of others, they'll do anything it means providing support to your infinite greatness.

The Trainer

"Say you love me... come on, say it. Say you love me. SAY YOU LOVE ME! Yay! Good boy/girl! Here's your reward."

They'll break you into loving them. Sometimes using torture, a punishment/reward system, brainwashing, blackmail, etc. This probably involves you getting kidnapped and forced into it, although there might be more subtle ways to accomplish this.

The Seeker Type

"I love you, so... can you give me your fingernails? I want them so I can always have a part of you with me.” “ I would also like your heart, because it shows so much love....”

Undeniably the worst type of yandere, they will murder you, and not by accident, not by jealousy, not by revenge. they will murder you because they love you. And then they'll keep your rotting corpse on bed or preserved inside a glass because there's no way they'd throw you away.

In a sense sane people are better off not even trying to understand, the bizarre-seeking type of yandere is purely insane, mad way beyond explanation.

The Harmless One

"As long as he/she/they is happy, I'm happy."

The most harmless type of yandere, the one where they have fallen in love in an unhealthy, obsessive way, but they don't do anything insane about it. They will try hard to become your lover, but won't harm anybody in the way. If you get into a relationship with someone, this type of yandere won't attack you two, they'll be happy you found happiness, but perhaps they may still hope that you'll choose them instead one day.

I have already put this in the authors note at the top but to make it perfectly clear: I DONT CONDONE ANY TYPE OF YANDERE BEHAVIOR!!!! ITS TOXIC, ABUSIVE AND SHOULD NOT BE ROMANTICIZED!!!

[guardianofrivendell]

Oh Deer (request)

Legolas x reader

Requested: Yes! @lotr-th-nin-meleth​ asked “Hey! Could I get a Legolas x Reader where the reader is caring for an injured baby deer she found in the forest and she's usually really gruff and cold and keeps to herself? So Legolas gets all soft watching her be soft and she asks him for help or something you can choose and he's just all flustered and it's cute. Thank you xxx”

A/N: I switched it up a bit, hope you don’t mind! I also skipped the ‘old’ Westron Legolas usually speaks, to make it easier for me. Because I can do that.

Warnings: one soft curse word, mentions of blood, Legolas in love (yes, that needs its own warning)

“You are remarkably quiet today,” Legolas said to you after almost half an hour of silence.  You didn’t say anything back, eyes scanning the forest around you. Legolas shook his head. There was just no way to distract you, always focused on the task you’d been given. 

You were part of the Guard of Mirkwood. From the very beginning you had proven to be an exceptionally good fighter. Every mission you were sent on turned out succesful and with no casualties, so it didn’t take long for you to be allowed to go on even more dangerous missions.  Even though you had an impressive record, being an Elleth made it extra hard. It didn’t matter how skilled you were and that you’d showed more than once that you were tougher than most of the other guards, they still belittled you for being female. So when you were on duty, you put on a facade: stern expression, cold stare and not a sound unless you were spoken to. 

Despite your gruff facade, the Prince of Mirkwood had taken a liking to you. Not that you noticed; after all, you were too busy proving your worth.  Legolas made sure he was assigned to your group on patrols or vice versa - not that he didn’t have a choice, being Prince and all - and always suggested your name when there was a two-person job. All very subtle of course.

Today had been no different. There had been a sighting of a few Orcs wandering the forest, not that far from the palace. Thranduil instructed him to send a few guards to go and solve the problem. Those ‘few guards’ turned into Legolas and you. 

And now you were making your way through the forest, hunting some Orcs, with Legolas by your side who was desperately trying to make conversation. 

“You are allowed to speak, Y/N. It’s only me.” “Yes, only you... Don’t you think it’s rather strange our King sent only two guards? How many Orcs were seen again?” “Enough to handle ourselves, do not worry.” You scoffed. “I’m not worried, you know damn well that I could take them on my ow-” A sound in the distance made you cut off your sentence. Legolas heard it too, and you signaled him to climb the trees.

You both jumped from one tree to another with ease, until you reached a small clearance. There you could see about a dozen Orcs, most of them taking a rest, a few trying to make a fire to keep the spiders away. You signaled to Legolas to stay put, while you made your way to the other side of the clearance. 

He rolled his eyes at that. Shouldn’t it be him telling you what to do? But he listened anyway and waited for your signal. In his mind he was already planning how to attack the pack, thinking he could easily kill 4 or 5 Orcs from where he was hiding before making his way down the tree. This was almost too easy. 

A screech in the distance made the Orcs jump up and 3 of them disappeared in the woods, running past the tree you were hiding in. It seemed like the pack hadn’t been complete. You waved to Legolas, signaling you would go after them. Before he could protest, you were gone.  Why did you always have to prove yourself? He had no visuals anymore, but he could hear how your feet touched the ground. Your fight had begun. 

In one swift movement he took his bow and notched an arrow, and shot the Orc closest to him. Before he let himself drop down, he killed two more. He smirked to the six remaining Orcs and switched his bow for his two blades.  “Let us begin,” he muttered.

*

It was over in less than ten minutes. They didn’t even put up a real fight, Legolas thought.  Probably too exhausted from wandering through the forest for so long. He looked around but couldn’t see any sign of you, not even with his Elven eyes. Suppressing the slight rush of panic he felt, he began to look for you. You were tough. There was no way you couldn’t handle a handful of exhausted Orcs by yourself, he kept repeating in an attempt to reassure himself.

He ran through the forest, fighting the urge to call out your name. The last thing he wanted was to alert anything else of his presence.  “Legolas!” He halted immediately, frantically looking around him in an attempt to locate you. This was not a good sign, he thought. You knew how dangerous it was to draw attention to you this deep in the forest. It could only mean one thing... “LEGOLAS!” He tried to ignore the despair in your voice, and ran as fast as he could in the direction of your scream.  After a few agonizing minutes he found you hunched over on your knees. “Y/N?”

When you turned around, his heart stopped. Your hands were covered in blood. Red, not black, he realized.   He fell to his knees at your side, his eyes searching your body for injuries. “Where are you hurt?” Your tunic was no longer a lighter green, but stained with a dark red. He tried to remain calm for your sake, on the inside he was definitely freaking out. You didn’t answer him, and burst into tears instead.  “You’re going to be okay,” he said, more to himself than to you. “Everything is going to be okay.” He put an arm under your knees and around your waist and lifted you up with the utmost care, but you stopped him.  “Y/N, I have to get you back home. Just... please, let me take care of you.” “It’s not mine,” you said in between sobs, pointing to your drenched clothes.  “What happened?” Legolas asked, completely lost by now. He sat down on his knees with you still in his arms. If he wasn’t feeling so helpless at the moment, he would enjoy holding you this close. It felt nice. “I-...” You tried to take a long breath to calm down so you could tell him what was going on, but it only made it worse. Legolas rubbed your back softly until you found your voice again, relieved it seemed to help a little. “I-... I didn’t mean to hurt him!”

Legolas looked at you questioningly. Him? He scanned your surroundings but couldn’t see anyone.  You got up from his lap and took a few steps away from him, motioning him to follow you. He had to keep himself from taking your hand.  You took another ten steps and crouched down. Legolas heard you sniffling again.  What he saw in front of your feet, was probably the last thing he expected to see. A small deer, probably still a baby, lay on the ground. A large gap in his side, clearly your work. 

“Oh,” he sighed, finally understanding why you were so upset. The deer had definitely been in the wrong place at the wrong time. A laugh escaped his throat. You narrowed your eyes at him. Was he really laughing at you?  When he saw you were annoyed at him, he shook his head.

“Y/N you really are curious. Slaying Orcs, killing off spiders, you don’t bat an eye. Doesn’t affect you in the slightest. But an injured deer got you all upset?”  You felt the blood rise in your cheeks. Was it your fault you just really loved the forest animals? Someone had to take care of them, so why not you? You noticed him staring at you, a certain emotion in his eyes you could not seem to read. “What?” you asked him. “You’re cute... I mean-,” Legolas corrected himself too late. “It’s cute, the deer... is cute.”

You didn’t say anything back and Legolas cursed himself.  “You know what, let’s take it with us to the palace. I’m sure our Healers could do something for him,” he suggested. He wasn’t entirely sure they could do that, but if it would make you feel better...  “Are you sure we can do that?” “Of course we can, I’m the Prince.” He winked at you, and lifted the deer into his arms. You rolled your eyes at his cockiness. He was nothing like his father. 

“Thank you,” you said sincerely.  “Anything for you...”

A/N: Aaaaaah, I’m so bad at endings 🙈 I wanted something smart or funny, maybe I’ll change it later on if I can think of something. Sorry!

A/N part 2: It’s at times like these that I curse myself for not being a native English speaker. So sorry that my writing feels a little forced sometimes, but that’s mostly because of my lack of English vocabulary or because I can’t think of another way to say things and Google Translate can only do so much. So why not write in my own language you ask? Well... I don’t think there are a lot of Flemish (or Dutch) speaking Tumblr users waiting for Flemish lotr fics :)

[twstdreams]

Werewolves Hide Behind the Moon

Request: Yay requests are open again! If it’s not much trouble could I please request gender neutral headcannons for yandere! Werewolf scarabia boys with either a red riding hood or huntsman inspired reader? I love both of these ideas but I can’t choose so I’ll leave that up to you if you don’t mind. You don’t have to answer my request if you don’t like it. Have a happy halloween!

Happy Halloween! I chose one of each. Reposting because I liked this and I want the tags to work!

Warning: yandere, pressing boundaries, manipulation

Kalim Al Asim

You know that as a hunter, it’s your responsibility to protect the people and hunt the dangers of the forest so regular citizens can traverse it freely

Lately, you’ve heard reports of a white wolf getting a little too friendly with humans. It’s never attacked anyone yet but it certainly gave several people quite the fright

So when you meet Kalim, closer to a puppy than a wolf, for the first time you’re conflicted. You told him to stay still, weapon in hand and murder intent clear, yet he just listened obediently. He morphs into a human beastmen then throws a compliment about how cute you look to top it off! Doesn’t he understand what kind of position he’s in?

You’re hesitant to hurt him, because honestly Kalim hasn’t done anything wrong yet. At most, people got an unexpected fright because Kalim is a little too domestic? Can you even have a domestic wolf?

You’ve heard pet dogs have a more ferocious growl than Kalim. Somehow, you’re always chiding Kalim to stay off the road, leave people alone, so they don’t get antsy. Some citizens are questioning why you let the werewolf live, but they haven’t seen the innocence in his gaze, how much he loves it when you scratch behind his ears, and how unbearably friendly he is

Kalim always pouts and says he’s too lonely to stay away, you guess it’s his nature as a pack animal. But the inquiries are becoming less and less gentle and the looks you’re getting aren’t as friendly. How could someone so adorable be getting you in so much trouble?

So you make a little promise. If Kalim doesn’t venture to the main path, he can come visit your house that’s on the outskirts of the village. You don’t have any neighbours so no one can question if they see a fuzzy tail near your house or not

Except Kalim doesn’t visit once a week, maybe once a month, no Kalim visits every day. Is it better than him roaming on the main roads? Yes, but barely. At first he’d sneak in through the back door or patiently wait on your welcome mat. He never means any harm but the one time you had a visitor come over, complaining of bears nearby, you nearly had a heart attack because Kalim was outside your door. You barely scrambled fast enough to kick him back into the forest and for once, you think you actually heard him growl? When you ask, he just says it was a whine because your precious time with him was cut off

You’re seriously considering investing in stronger locks because the amount of time you’ve come home to Kalim just lounging in your house is one too many. You couldn’t believe how proud he was of himself when he explained that this way no one could tell he hung around your house if he was in it!

At this rate, you’ve given up. If you sit on the couch and read a book, Kalim is bound to lay on your legs or stomach and curl up, soothed only by pets.

When you leave, to go out, work, meet with friends, sometimes Kalim will nip at you, nuzzling into your neck while complaining about how it’s not as fun without you. He starts bringing you an assortment of trinkets, some jewels you’re not sure how he got but he always brushes away your questions with remarks about how you must like these gifts so you don’t need to work or visit anyone else! You always decline but somehow Kalim’s hearing doesn’t work when you do

You ask if he has any family or friends and Kalim mentions how you should join his pack and meet them, but you immediately shut down that idea. There’s been talk of another wolf and you need to protect the town.

But the next day when you’re in town to get more information, the wolf has been found dead by the road. Except, if you didn’t kill it, who did? You don’t know who but it makes Kalim more insistent on spending time with you. See, isn’t everything okay? Isn’t it better with him?

Jamil Viper

Everyone warns you how dangerous werewolves are but no one told you how attractive they are! Or how active during the day they were!

You were going to visit your grandma. She could still make short walks around the house but the treck to the village was a bit too much for her. You were walking on the main road you’d traversed a million times, when suddenly a clawed hand latched onto your arm and pulled you behind a bush!

A screech nearly burst from your throat, but another hand muffled any of your screams. “Be quiet for your own sake,” a low voice whispered. When you looked at its owner, you’re surprised to see a handsome werewolf, in beastmen form, with shiny black hair and celestite eyes that are a little too easy to lose yourself in

You follow his eyes and notice a pack of wolves in the middle of the road, blood stained teeth and noses sniffing for their next prey. The werewolf beside you tugs your hand, you’re unsure where but if he saved you from that pack, maybe he’s not all bad?

He takes you on an untread path, passing by unfamiliar trees and fauna you’ve never seen before, but the werewolf doesn’t hesitate for a second. Before you know it, you’re in your Grandma’s backyard. The werewolf lets go of your hand

“Wait! Will they still be there later?” You might need to warn Grandma or stay with her! He stays quiet for a bit but then says, “It’s not safe. You never know when they might come back. I’ll guide you later.”

Before he leaves, to where you don’t know, you discover his name is Jamil. Wait, how did he know where Grandma’s house is?

These walks with Jamil become more and more often. He’s always so nice to you, telling you about how he’s not like other werewolves, he doesn’t want to eat other humans. The running joke between you two is that curry tastes better anyway

And yes, maybe going on little adventures and straying from the path to have lunch with a werewolf isn’t advised, but Jamil is always kind to you. He’s so meticulous, has you at grandma’s place or your own home on time, remembers your favourite flowers, so yeah maybe you have a little crush

Sometimes it feels one-sided though, Jamil never tells you much about himself but also never fails to escort you, so he must care right? He says the hierarchy in werewolf packs are severe so you avoid the sore subject.

Besides it always feel so much better when you bring a smile to his face, whether it’s giving him an extra cookie from the basket or brushing through his hair to undo any tangles

And you can’t help the way your heart flutters when he gifts you a necklace, a chic fabric chocker to be exact, and you make sure to wear it whenever you can

But one time when Jamil says he’s going to be busy, family obligations and all, and you say that you can head to Grandma’s by yourself, his vehement denial makes you stop.

A flurry of reasons spill from his lips, it’s not safe, there’s going to be a hunt soon, and lectures about how you can’t possibly take care of yourself leave you speechless. Yes, maybe you were a little indulgent and dependent on Jamil, but you’ve always kept pace with him and made it to Grandma’s on your own before.

Still, there’s no reason Jamil would lie to you, right? So why does your necklace suddenly feel so much like a collar?

[official-weasley]

The Extraordinary Dragon (Part 1/6)

After about a century of me being gone and not writing a new story, I am back with a mini-series! 💙

I didn't have a good idea for a new OC so I decided to write a cute and fluffy story about Charlie training a dragon with a sad and mysterious past.

I would like to thank @am-i-space @madelineorionswan & @the-al-chemist for giving me ideas for the names of the dragons mentioned in the story. You are the best 💙 Since some of the dragons are mentioned in the later chapters I will make sure to include which dragons you named in the Masterlist for the story 💙

If you'd like to be tagged in every part the dragon with your name is mentioned please tell me and I will gladly do so 🤗

Warnings: Charlie being excited and obsessed with dragons.

Word count: 2,869

A dragon's roar awakened me. It might sound terrifying to some, but it is a pure melody for my ears. I have been working in the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary for almost 10 years now. Come to think of it tomorrow's the anniversary.

My co-workers constantly tease me, telling me that I'm a workaholic. I always disagree with them. I just love dragons and working with them. Am I a bit obsessed with the creatures? Maybe. But who wouldn't be so excited about having their dream job?

There is something so soothing working with a beast that can swallow you whole, yet if you have the right energy and you treat them right they can be more obedient than a Crup.

When I first got the job I worked with a team of researchers. Since I have never seen a dragon in real life before starting working, my boss Matthew wanted me to learn about their behavior and study them to be better prepared to do other things.

They all thought I will be bored out of my mind – because I applied for the care of dragons position and not researching – but I loved every second of it. All I had to do was wake up every morning and go to the assigned habitat and observe the dragon there and take notes. It's like reading a book about the creatures – something I did almost every day of my 7 years at Hogwarts – but you get to be around them every single day.

My mother thinks I am insane for wanting to be around such dangerous creatures and I had to promise her before I left for Romania that I will write home every day otherwise she is coming to get me at once. I guess she needs to know daily that I wasn't eaten by a dragon. The thing is that being hurt by a dragon is less likely than falling off a broom, so I don't know what she is so worried about.

The only one of my family members that knows about all my injuries and all my scars is my big brother Bill. He understands that I don't mind getting hurt and he doesn't get a heart attack every time I end up in the infirmary. It's nice to talk to someone about these things outside my workspace. Even though being a Curse Breaker isn't the safest job in the world, Bill's number of scars can't even compare to mine.

We do have protective gear and gloves but sometimes the dragon's fire and teeth are just too strong. We are lucky that we have wonderful healers that take care of us and we have remedies that heal burns within minutes so it's mostly just an annoyance.

The year after my training I worked only with Common Welsh Greens. The year after that I tamed two Antipodean Opaleyes and it was the best feeling to see them get excited and welcome me with a friendly roar every morning. Even though they were both adults it felt like dealing with two kids and it was so much fun. The latter are such sweethearts and I even taught one how to roll over. They are like dogs but bigger, way bigger.

After that, I tried to convince my boss to let me work with a more dangerous breed. It's not that I didn't like what I did but I like a challenge. I needed 2 months to convince him to let me work with 2 Chinese Fireballs and by the smirk on his face I knew I was in for a treat. They were brought to our reserve so they could breed but no matter how much others tried nobody succeeded at mating them.

When Matthew finally gave in – not seeing any harm in letting me try before they send them back – I remember I danced around my hut for a solid half an hour being so excited to work with them the next day.

I was surprised that nobody thought of the strategy I choose. It was true that they brought the dragons to us together but they didn't know each other and since nobody thought of trying to acquaint them first, I gave it a go.

After 3 days they were best mates and I gave them 4 more days to fully feel comfortable with each other before taking them to the mating habitat. I am more than proud to say that since then they have been parents 2 times. I did some great things since I started working in the Sanctuary but you never forget your first big achievement.

Due to Matthew being absolutely in awe of me succeeding after a week he allowed me to work with a bunch of Swedish Short-Snouts even though usually only a dragonologist with 5+ years of experience can work with them alone.

I was amused when I saw the faces of some of my older co-workers when they found out – thinking they were going to get the job. I love working with them even though they are the ones responsible for most of my scars. Just after the first day, one burned my entire forearm and everyone thought I was going to back off because of it but it only made me want to work with them more.

Now, after almost 10 years I have worked with every single breed of dragon except my favorite – the Hebridean Black. They are one of the most dangerous and stubborn kind and only a dragonologist with a lot of experience gets to work with them.

I got the glimpse of one when I was working with the research team but no matter how sneaky I tried to be, Matthew wouldn't let me get anywhere close to them. I even got a chance to work with a team that took care of a sick Norwegian Ridgeback even though they are considered to be the most dangerous.

A year ago I got a chance to be part of an exchange program at the Swedish Dragon Reserve and I worked with a Peruvian Vipertooth and a Ukrainian Ironbelly. My boss wasn't happy about the latter one as he reckoned I was too inexperienced to be around and try to tame the largest breed of dragons but as you can probably tell from what I told you so far, I was over the roof about it!

The Ironbelly might be the largest but they are among the least vicious ones – none of my co-workers would agree with me as most of them are terrified of them but I think they are adorable thinking since they are the biggest they are also the scariest. It's the same as with dogs – sometimes the smaller ones are more dangerous.

I got out of bed with a grin on my face. Even though I don't like to admit it I like reminiscing on my biggest achievements.

I made myself some breakfast – eggs and bacon as usual – while blasting music on my wireless. Nothing like singing while cooking and reading the letters my family sent me.

Mum and dad were going to visit George and Ron for the weekend. Bill and Fleur decided to repaint their living room. Ginny invited me to one of her games next week and Percy got another promotion.

I walked to the wall where I had a calendar hanging to mark the date of Ginny's game. It was the perfect event to meet with most of my family members and I love supporting her. I am proud of all my siblings' achievements but Ginny being the only girl among 6 boys made us all have a soft spot for her - even Percy, even though he would probably deny it if someone asked him about it.

Since I was working with three different dragons at the moment – Peruvian Vipertooth named Hel and two Romanian Longhorns Lasair and Rocker – I double-checked my schedule to see which one I am supposed to visit today. As I thought, it was Lasair. I know my schedule by heart but always check it twice– I don't want any dragon to be jealous thinking one is getting more attention from me.

My routine with the dragons was simple. First, they get their breakfast which is usually a piece of their favorite meat, except if it's our Common Welsh Green Crystal – she is the only dragon I have ever met that is a vegetarian and she mostly doesn't want to eat anything else than apples. It took us the longest time to figure out why she doesn't want to eat – vomiting out all the meat we gave her – until we moved her to an habitant with a pumpkin patch and them mysteriously disappearing overnight.

After the feeding, I like to play with them. That usually includes large balls or levitating rocks after which they can jump and run. Then it's my favorite part of the day – the flying lessons. We transport them to the part of the reserve that is built like a large stadium in the middle of the forest surrounded by mountains and it has 10 obstacles that the dragons have to learn to overcome so they are cleared for free-flying sessions.

After flying it's time for a brief pause to get the dragon back to its habitat and calm it down before giving it dinner and tucking it in.

Flying is the most fun thing we can do at our job. When Matthew told me that I am finally allowed to fly with them, I had to excuse myself and go to the bathroom because I felt like crying my eyes out. I wanted to fly on a dragon ever since I was a kid and even though I heard rumors about training them in that way, I always thought it was too good to be true.

The first time I flew on a dragon was with a dragonologist named Jim. He showed me how to properly prepare the dragon to be in the mood to have a person on its back and how to lift off and then safely land. Vulcan the Opaleye was just the loveliest when I trained with him to trust me to the point that he would allow me to fly. Even though my dream is to one day fly on a Hebridean Black, I wouldn't change my first flight for anything in the world.

Vulcan was more than obedient and so careful to make me feel comfortable and constantly made sure I was still on his back. He flew in a straight line and at an even pace making me feel so safe that I let go of his shiny scales and lifted my hands in the air. I wanted to shout from all the adrenaline and excitement that ran through me but I didn't want to startle the dragon.

It's safe to say that I didn't sleep at all that night. The second I laid in my bed I felt as if I was still in the air with Vulcan and I couldn't help but wish to do that every day.

"Good morning, Lasair. What do you want to eat this morning? Boar, deer, moose perhaps?"Lasair lifted her head sleepily at me. I teased her with the options, knowing full well that moose was her favorite. If she could speak she would ask me if I can't remember her favorite meal.

"Don't worry, you'll get what you want." I winked at her and put on my gloves before taking out my wand and levitating the big chunk of meat to her.

Lasair was one of the rare dragons that ate her food slowly, so I loved to sit down next to her and watched her chew. If Matthew saw me, he would probably murder me for sitting so close to a dragon but he doesn't know that Lasair and I have an agreement of her keeping me alive and I give her some extra meat for dinner in return.

"So, Lassy, I have some bad news." I cleared my throat as the dragon stopped chewing and tilted her head toward me. "We have to sharpen your claws today."

Lasair groaned and went back to her breakfast.

"I know, I know. Not your favorite thing to do. Trust me if it was up to me, we would rather do something more fun like play with your favorite tire or play fetch with your ball. But the boss said it was time."

Lasair didn't react to my words but laid on the ground once she finished her meal and wrapped her tail around me.

"You know that cuddling and being cute won't work on me." I chuckled. "Not this time, at least."

The dragon's nostrils started to smoke and I knew she was trying to negotiate.

"Between you and me," I whispered, "I'll throw in another piece of meat if you'll be a good girl like last time. How about some boar for dessert, huh?"

Lasair let out a gentle roar, giving me a sign that she agrees with my terms.

"That's my girl. I knew we'll find a common ground." I grinned at her and got up so we could start our day.

"Okay, Lassy. I will need you to step on this mat and do the burying motion. As if you were burying the bones of a deer." I explained when Lasair looked at the mat in confusion.

I mimicked the gesture and she copied it and walked to the mat with grace as if she was a princess.

"There you go! I am so proud of you, Lasair. You really want that extra piece of meat, huh?" I laughed to myself.

"So that is how you get all dragons to behave as if they're Crups?" I turned toward the voice and saw Matthew's amused face, observing my work with the Romanian Longhorn.

"You were never meant to find out," I said in a dramatic voice.

"Oh, it's fine." Matthew swung his hand. "You'll need all the skills."

"What do you mean?" I furrowed my brows at him as I stepped to Lasair to show her to step a bit forward so she could sharpen the claws on her back paws as well.

"Do you know what tomorrow is?" Matthew asked, observing my every move.

"No." I lied. I knew that tomorrow will be 10 years since I work in the reserve but I didn't want to boast about it.

"Come on, Charles. I know that you out of everyone here you’re the one who counts how long you are working here for." He smirked at me.

I couldn't believe it. He remembered that it's my 10th anniversary? I couldn't help but grin.

"What about it?" I tried acting casually.

"Well, the team was thinking about what to get you as a present..."

"Matt, you don't have to get me anything. You know I am just happy being surrounded by dragons." I smiled appreciatively.

"Well, how about you get surrounded by a new dragon?" He winked at me.

"What are you on about?" I narrowed my eyes at him. I was getting impatient, the excitement in me growing.

"We are getting a one-year-old Hebridean Black in a week from the MacFusty’s." Matthew started to explain. "And since you are so good at taming and being best mates with the three you’re taming now, I was thinking of assigning it to you."

"Did...did you just say a Hebridean Black?" I said in a voice that was barely a whisper. I couldn't believe what just came out of his mouth. He was going to let me work with my favorite breed?

"You heard correctly, Charles." Matthew's smirk was growing larger.

"But...but I don't have enough experience, you said so yourself. You...you should give the job to someone worthy, to someone who will know how to handle the breed." I knew that I should've just shut up and thank him for the opportunity. Working with a Hebridean Black has been my goal ever since I can remember, but I have to keep my head clear and think of what's best for the dragon.

"Thinking like this is exactly why I am giving the job to you even though I told you the last time you begged me that you need at least 7 more years before you can work with them." Something in his eyes shifted. He had the exact expression on his face as he did when he assigned me to breed those two Fireballs.

"You are up to something. What's wrong with the dragon?" I pursed my lips at him.

"Oh, the dragon is just fine. Lovely, actually. I bet you two will have a lot of fun." The sarcastic tone in his voice told me that he was hiding something from me but I didn't dare to ask him about it.

He deemed me ready to work with a Hebridean Black. To work with my favorite breed. I am not about to jeopardize that if he thinks I am the one for the job. In a week my biggest dream will come true and there was nothing in the world that could ruin that.

[utterlyhopeful-fics]

Love on the Line - Part 6

A/N: It’s finally here!!!

MASTERLIST      P1         P2           P3          P4          P5

Henry Cavill x Reader

If I keep tagging you and you’re not interested or want to be tagged; please let know!

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: heartache, language, angst, a pinch of lovey dovey fluff, cliffhanger 

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

“Ohhh myy god…it’s official. This is the best burger of my life, hands down.”

What could easily be perceived as orgasmic music delightfully made its way to his ears. Seb chuckled studying the beautiful girl across from him admiring her combination of burger grease, ketchup, and mustard staining her chin. Y/N was too lost in the delicious meal to notice Seb gleefully watching her. In an instant his hand wiped away the condiment catching Y/N by surprise. She smiled bashfully blushing.

“Told you I knew a place.”

She sighed genuinely happy in them moment; “I could die a happy girl tomorrow because of this sweet, juicy perfection of a burger. All thanks to you.”

“What can I say? I have good taste.”

“And how did you run across this wonderous joint? Kinda feels off the beaten path.”

“Well, when you fly as much as me you learn to ask around. I never trust the internet when it comes to what I put in my body. I like to know what and where the locals scavenge for a tasty meal.”

“You continue to surprise me …I admire your style, Seb. Original, classy, and you no doubt just about charm the pants off any person who walks your way.”

“Is it working now?” He flashed his most flirtatious smile devouring another sweet potato fry.

Quick on her feet, she shot back with wit and attitude; “Should it be?”

“I gotta say Y/N, I’ve never been happier to wake someone up on a plane until I met you.”

“Damn, you’re suave, Seb. Fucking suave.”

Her eyes bulged from their sockets at her crude choice of words; “Shit, I’m sorry. Ah, fuck.”

His laugh flew through the air like wind on a crisp fall evening; her cheeks flushed.

“I’m not usually such a sailor. Guess you bring out the best in me.”

“I don’t mind a bit. In fact, I kinda like that I fluster you if I’m being honest.”

“So smooth. Are you sure you’re not from LA?  I get the sense that’s a requirement in these parts?”

He shook his head in stark disagreement; “Nope, sorry to disappoint you. Just a common foreigner.”

“And a handsome one at that.”

Shocked at her boldness, Y/N stared down at the remnants of food moving her fries as a distraction from his adorable gaze.

“I haven’t felt this at ease in …well I can’t remember. It’s nice.”

“Couldn’t agree more. I never actually asked what brings you here?”

Seb nervously scratched the back of his head; “Uh, work. Like I said, I travel pretty frequently. Hollywood is a hub of sorts for me. What brings you here?”

“Okay, okay, I’ll take the hint and pry later. Well, I’m a writer and some big exec wants to discuss the rights to my book series. So, yeah.”

“Y/N, that’s amazing! Are you secretly a super hero, part of the Avengers maybe?”

“Hahah, flattery will certainly get you far. No doubts there.”

“You’re too kind, Y/N. I’m definitely far from perfect.”

“Good. Perfection is overrated. Flaws are attractively imperfect. I mean at the end of the day we’re only human.”

“Consider me intrigued. I’ve gotta stop by a bookstore and check you out now!”

“Oh, hush! If you must know, I try to keep a low profile. So, uh, how long are you here for?”

“A couple days. I’ve got a bit of free time after my meeting tomorrow and thinking of hitting some trails while I’m here. Don’t get me wrong, LA is cool and all, but kinda suffocating. I try and maintain my distance if possible.”

“Oh, you’re preaching to the choir. The hustle and bustle of London is the literal definition of overwhelming. Countryside getaways were my one true savior. Sometimes London feels like an overpacked sardine can just waiting to explode.”

“So why did you stay?”

Y/N bit her lip trying to keep quiet. She hadn’t once though of Henry since meeting Seb. The lump in her throat appeared by just the mere mention of her subconscious. A part of her wasn’t ready to reveal the ache left beneath her exterior.

“Friends and family. What else ties a person to one place?”

“Love? A relationship?”

His coyness was flattering. She gave into his curiosity.  

“Are you asking if I’m single?” Her feigned expression was enough to send him into a fit of harmonious laughter.

“Maybe, maybe not. Depends on your answer, I guess. Part of me believes you’re too good to be true which usually means taken.”

“HA, no. Relationships and I are not on speaking terms at the moment.”

“Ah, sounds like heartbreak hotel is just around the corner….”

“I recently got out of a long-term relationship. So, to answer your question; Yes, I’m single and so not ready to mingle.”

“Are you assuming I’m hitting on you?” His shocked appearance made her question their entire encounter and if she’d been reading the signs wrong all along.

“Well, good thing I’m only here for the coffee and platonic company, hm?”

Seb raised his mug in salute as her stress magically melted away; “Break-ups suck. But allow for a real opportunity to see who you really are. Pain can be a bitter reminder of sadness and strength.”

“Wow, philosophizing so soon into our newly found friendship? A man after my own heart!”

Y/N playfully placed her hand over her heart, smiling for particular reason.

“How about if you’re interested and only 100% positive you aren’t sick of my company; we do dinner or even drinks? Whichever the lady chooses.”

Seb motioned in jest. Y/N tried to remember the last time she’d felt so carefree unable to pin down an exact memory. For far to long Y/N trapped herself in a fog allowing Henry to rule over her even when he wasn’t physically there. It had to stop, she had to quit placing him on a pedestal if she had any luck of moving on from their failed love affair. One torturous long minute passed as Seb’s nerved ramped up.

“Shit, I’m that weird dude, now. Forget I asked and let’s chalk it up to an amazing afternoon as strangers who leave this diner and head back to our own separate lives without consequence?”

Again, Y/N was speechless contemplating what she truly wanted to do next.

“First things first, stop blubbering, you seriously are ungodly handsome. And on second note, our chance meeting was unexpected but kinda sorta awesome. I’d love to see you again. I can’t recall the last time I’ve felt so free…and don’t even get me started on the belly aches due to your comedic skills.”

“Damn, a woman that speaks her mind. Are you sure you’re not in politics?”

“Nope, never, no thank you. Sooo, it’s a date?”

Seb furrowed his eyebrow in pleasant surprise; “You said it, not me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes; “Yeah, yeah. What do the kids say nowadays…. YOLO?”

“Yes, and please never say that again.”

A napkin holder was placed strategically resting against the window sill. Seb signaled to their middle-aged waitress; “Pardon me, do you have a pen handy?”

“Course, darling. Anything for ya.” She winked dropping the pen on the edge of the checkered table leaving them to privacy. He scribbled his number on the grainy piece of paper and slid it her way.

“I’ll leave the ball in your court and pass the privilege of reaching out to confirm details.”

“Wow, and they say chivalry is dead? Obviously not in Romania.”

“What fine establishment do they have you shacking up in?”

“Chateau Marmont. Long story short, my publisher fully embraces and understands my introverted nature and love of historical hotels. Call me an oddball.”

“Oddball.”

They snickered like school children slowly understanding their time was coming to a close. A power, a force of sorts gravitated Y/N towards him. He felt the same way.

“I happen to think women who especially history buffs are so incredibly magnificent. I haven’t met many as beautiful as you.

Their flirtation skyrocketed like flicks of fire firing between them.

“Knowledge is like your super power…. also, intelligent women are a complete turn on.”

She swatted his arm smiling like a kid in a candy shop.

“Come on, let’s get outta here. I’ll drop you off.”

He offered his hand helping Y/N to her feet. She lingered a second too long. With Seb a couple steps behind her, she missed the clinch of his fists and Seb’s reddened cheeks.

---The Next Day---

No luxury was forgotten as Y/N observed her decadent hotel room, but no matter how comfortable the memory foam or high thread count sheets, Y/N tossed restlessly the whole night. Her anxieties attacking her mind at every possible angle. Worry engulfed her clutching on her own insecurities. Her fear? 

That she’d walk into David Fincher’s office and leave very humiliated and very far from home. Henry’s ghost loitered just out of reach. A ghost can be many a thing; a memory, a daydream, a secret, but most times, a wish. Old or new. But that was the past, memories she must let go of.

Y/N stared at the ceiling wishing her bed to open up and swallow her whole finally dozing off to her temporary dreamland. But sunlight painted the walls like a colorful painting. She stretched and moaned at the sensations of her waking bones.

Making her way to the bathroom, Y/N’s phone chimed forcing her to circle back towards the obnoxious device.

Seb: Buna dimineata prietene! (Good Morning, friend)

Y/N: Romanian? So early in the morning. How dare you sir?

Blinking dots ran across the screen as Y/N waited impatiently for his witty response.

Seb: Never too early for greatness. As they say in the theater, break a leg! But not an actual leg because I might be looking forward to our date. Okay, good luck with the meeting!

Y/N: Thanks for the good juju. Same to you! Call you later.

She unconsciously rubbed at the tender swell in her chest, the fluttering in her belly kicking wildly. Butterflies. It’d been ages since she’d been this excited and it surprised Y/N. Maybe she was ready for something more…Y/N shook her head ridding herself of such silly thoughts. She knew better than to rush full steam ahead.

    ---Later that day---

The fourteenth floor was decorated to architectural perfection. Every space had its purpose and the décor elegantly stylish.  There she stood in the presence of cinematic greatness! As Y/N was about to pinch herself, she heard an echo of a name. Looking up, she searched for the unknown voice before landing on an enthusiastic figure waving her direction.

“Y/N! So nice to finally see you in person. I’m Meg.”

“Meg, so glad to put a face to a name. Thank you for having me.”

Both women walked down a hallway lined of glass walls smiling at those who looked up.

“David has talked nonstop about your series. So much so that I ended up devouring your books in three days. You’re freaking brilliant!”

“You really think so? I worked my ass off to get it through any publishing house. I was on the verge of chucking my ideas in the trash and getting an actual job that paid real money if it wasn’t for a last-ditch effort.”

“I’ve blocked off a thirty-minute window before his next meeting begins. He’s booked back-to-back today but by no means feel rushed. He hates when I push him. Don’t tell him I said that.”

Her head bobbed nonchalantly taking notice of the stunning scenery from the 17th level.

“Alright, here goes nothing.”

“Best of luck, Y/N.”

Meg knocked; “Come in!”

“David, this is Y/N.”

“Thanks, Meg. Close the door behind ya, we’ve got loads to discuss.”

David extended his hand towards Y/N’s shaking firmly. Y/N reminded herself to breath and to quickly find her manners.

She stuttered trying to remember common speech causing David to laugh aloud.

“Ms. Y/N, you okay?”

“Yyess—just a tad shell shocked. I mean, I can’t believe I’m standing in a room with the David Fincher. Unbelievable, really. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”

“I should be the one thanking you. You wrote one hell of a series that I trust can be transferred stunningly over to the silver screen where it can be fully appreciated. I’ve never seen someone mold together so many genres with such ease yet adding a layer of complexity. You, young lady, kept me guessing every twist and turn. That doesn’t happen too often if you catch my drift.”

“I-I, it’s just nice all those late-night writing sessions and waiting tables paid off. I’ll have you know I was on the verge of giving it all up and going back to school.”

“So, let’s get down to details. My team and I have come up with an offer that is totally open for negotiations.”

David slid a piece of paper into view. Y/N stared at the parchment gob smacked. Her jaw fell open at the written proposal.

“Holy shit.” Her eyes snapped up at her vulgar language; “Shit! I don’t mean to be impolite.”

“Ha, it’s a bit flabbergasting upon first glance but I promise you I want to do everything in my power to make this work for both parties.”

“Am I…am I reading this correctly?”

“Indeed, $10 million for the first two films, advancing to an additional $13, $15, $17 million for the last three. Of course, aiding us in the writer’s room to make sure we bring your story to live through your eyes. This will undoubtfully increase book sales across the board, I’d say upwards of $60 million if all goes accordingly. Also, I didn’t forget about making you an executive producer.”

“You’re kidding me, riight? Am I dreaming?”

“You’re gonna be a big deal once the tabloids get their sticky fingers on this. I mean this is going to skyrocket you to the likes of Stephenie Meyer and Suzanne Collins status. I mean, I had to outbid Peter Jackson just for a chance at directing this masterpiece. Darling, you’re all Hollywood can talk about right now.”

“Wow, I’m, uh, seriously grateful. I guess I’ve been shacking up in London far too long. I don’t really read celeb gossip so needless to say I’ve been in my own bubble.”

“A huge thank you goes out to Henry Cavill for pitching the initial idea. He helped get the recognition you deserve. Nice fellow, that one.”

Momentary shock came over her face, mouth still agape; “He—Henry had a hand in this?”

“Most certainly. He was the one who brought it to my attention. Of course, he mentioned the desire to work with me was motivation enough, but genuinely, he seemed passionate about the project.”

“I-I had no idea.” Switching gears as fast as possible Y/N trotted forth; “So realistically, when can we get the ball rolling?”

“Once the proper documents are signed and stamped, we��re good to go. If negotiations aren’t necessary, I’d say within the next month or so we can start casting calls, booking air fare, figuring out destination shoots, getting a manuscript going. It comes together faster than people think. How about this; you mull it over, call whoever you need, and get back at me in the next couple of days. Sound good?”

“Sounds more than good! I think I’ll be forever be in your debt, Mr. Fincher.”

“Please, call me David. We have a long road ahead of us that has truly stoked a fire in me, all thanks to you.”

Her nerves triumphed pushing Henry to the back of her mind. Y/N had bigger fish to fry.

“May I be frank with you, David?”

“By all means.”

“As you probably know Henry’s my ex-fiancée. Is it true you’re possibly considering him for the lead role?”

David looked around quizzically composing himself.

“I figured we’d have to address the elephant in the office. Yes, I was aware and I didn’t consider him to be malicious. He’s a genius actor and I figured it was worth a chat. But if you’re worried about anything, just say the word.”

“No, no. I wouldn’t want to jeopardize his successes. I agree, he’s an untapped actor full of surprising talent. I’ll be okay.”

“You promise?”

“Yep.”

“Great! Rest assured he isn’t even in the country. Believe he’s still galivanting about London.”

Silently pleading to change the subject, Y/N snapped out of it as quickly as she flew in to.

“This is a dream come true. I’m really looking forward to working with you and bringing my story to life.”

The squeaky hinge of the door alerted her to Meg’s foreboding presence. Taking a cue, Y/N stood up shaking David’s hand beaming like a child on Christmas Eve.

“I’ll be in touch, Y/N. Until then, enjoy your stay. Venture out. You’ll find LA isn’t all plastic and bullshit.”

“Oh, thank god. For a second I was getting nervous.”

“Haha! Meg, next appointment here?”

“Yes, he’s right around the cor--.”

“Y/N?”

She searched for the familiar voice unable to pin it down.

“Seb!? Wha...what are you doing here? I thought you had that big meeting today?”

“Uh, I do. That’s why I’m here.”

Sebastian nervously scratched his neck. Bewildered and thoroughly confused Y/N pushed on; “Wait a minute…. Are you an ...?”

“Actor, yes.”

“Whoa, whoa whoa. Wait.”

“Holy shit. You’re Shirley Lovecraft. Catchy pseudo name. So, you’re the brains behind this witty madness. What an interesting turn of events if I do say so myself, a happy one.”

“Agreed. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you. Kinda embarrassing.”

“Don’t. A perfect afternoon with someone who wasn’t using me for fame or money? Did I mention you look breathtaking today?”

Her cheeks fumed with heat stirring her butterflies back to life. Seb’s hand stilled on her waist unwilling to let go as they continued gazing at the other.

“Earth to Seb?

Seb broke eye contact first glancing over at David. Y/N was too busy memorizing the glimmer of his cobalt blue eyes.

“Yes, ah! So rude of me. Hello there, so great of you to squeeze me in. I appreciate it.”

He directed his attention towards Y/N once more leaning close to the shell of her ear; “Still on for drinks later?”

“Definitely.”

His wink sparked a jolt to her core leaving her weak in the knees. Somehow, some way, Y/N mustered enough confidence to walk without tripping. She glowed the whole walk to the elevator. Y/N pressed the button too lost in thought to hear the quiet ding of arrival strolling straight into a hard chest. Enormous hands grasped her shoulders; “Oh! Apologies Ms.”

“No, it’s my fault. I wasn’t paying atten—oh shit.”

Only one particularly charming British accent that could send a chill down her spine, one very distinguishable voice indeed. 

“Y/N?”

Time froze icily still.

“What the fuck? Henry??”

~~~~~~~~~~

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[hauntedbythefanficsofmypast]

When you need a Superfriend

By Nach0Ava

On Archive of Our Own

Tumblr user: @nach0ava

So I have not really watched Supergirl however when I read the first chapter I had to share this with you all! This is the first chapter by Nach0Ava. (Second chapter is on its way as well!) Marinette gets sent away by her parents to America! Please go read Nach0Ava's story!

Summary:

When Tom and Sabine believe Lila's lies, they send Marinette off to live with an old family friend in National City. When living with a government agent and a physiologist, how long is it until she gets figured out?

Chapter 1:

“I don’t understand! Why are you sending me away?”

Marinette looked up at her parents in disbelief. They had just told her that she was going to be sent to live with a family friend. In America! Sure, she could speak fairly good English, but it still didn’t make sense!

“Your recent behaviour has led us to think that the change could be good for you. Kelly and her girlfriend Alex are lovely people, and they might be better equipped to deal with you than we are.”

As her mother spoke, Marinette felt a bitterness rise in her. Of course. Lila. She had made good on her threat, managing to turn even her parents against her. Claiming that she was involved in a gang, she had an older boyfriend, she did drugs, the list went on. And when Tom and Sabine had caught Marinette out past curfew one too many times, they took it as the truth. She couldn’t tell them that she was Ladybug, so all she had was half-hearted excuses. Still, she needed a way to stay in Paris, as she couldn’t be Ladybug somewhere else, and if there was no Ladybug, there was no-one to catch the akuma, and no-one to cast the cure, never mind all her guardian duties…

She was getting off track. She had a goal and she needed to accomplish it. Just like taking down an akuma. Except she couldn’t hit this problem really hard for it to go away.

“Is there any way I could stay in Paris? I’ll switch schools, I’ll go live with grandpa Roland, I’ll do anything!”

Tom and Sabine exchanged a look. They didn’t want to believe it, but they had to make sure.

“Honey, calm down, aren’t you worried about an akuma?”

Marinette started pacing as she rambled, mostly to herself.

“Right, I’ll get upset, then you guys will get mad at me, and then one or both of you will be akumatised and then I’ll have that whole mess to deal with.”

Tom reached out a hand to her shoulder to stop her pacing.

“You aren’t worried about you getting akumatised?”

Marinette shook her head.

“No no, I’ll be fine.”

A slight push from her bag and the looks from her parents made her backtrack.

“I mean, I’m really good at calming down before they get to me, I mean, it’s worked so far right?”

She let out a nervous chuckle while her parents stared at her.

“Marinette… Are you working with Hawkmoth?”

Marinette looked for the start of a smile from her mum, the laughter in her dad’s eyes, anything to say they were joking. When the just kept staring she burst into laughter.

“Haha, you guys… You guys really thought… Haha, that’s hilarious!”

Her parents failed to see the humour and gave her thatlook.

“Remember all those times I’ve been attacked? Reflekta, Horificator, pretty much any akuma that clones or traps people I’ve gotten tangled up in.”

Not technically a lie, she never said she got hitspecifically, but she definitely got attacked.

“Well, maybe you should get out of Paris anyway. It’s clearly not safe here, and maybe it’s best for you to leave. You’ll like it in National City, they even have their own superheros!”

Great. A reminder of what I have to give up because of Lila. She was about to keep protesting, but she felt three quick pushed on her side by Tikki. We need to talk.Her argument died on her tongue and she sighed.

“When am I meant to leave?”

Her parents exchanged relived looks.

“The plane is booked for next Friday. That gives you about a week to pack up. We could mail over a box with all of your sewing things once you get settled, if Kelly and Alex are ok with it of course.”

Marinette fought the eyebrow that was threating to raise. A week? I was hoping for some more time to test and train a new guardian, and a new holder for Tikki. It would be a rush, and there weren’t many people she trusted anymore. Still, there was work to be done, so she had to get started.

“I guess I’ll go start packing then. Can I be un-grounded so I can spend my final week saying goodbye and sorting things out?”

Her parents nodded, glad she was taking this so well.

“Of course honey, just not tonight ok? It’s getting rather late.”

Marinette nodded and ran up to her room, shutting the trapdoor quickly. She went up onto her bed and starting crying into her pillow, feeling the weight of all the kwami comforting her. Eventually she rolled on to her back, drying her tears.

“I’m sorry Tikki, you said you wanted to talk?”

She looked at her expectantly. Marinette already knew what Tikki wanted. She needed to find a new wielder and Guardian, and she shouldn’t have been putting it off, but sometimes it felt good to cry. Tikki came to settle on her lap and patted her leg comfortingly.

“Marinette I know what you’re thinking, and you don’t have to give up being Ladybug or being Guardian. So you better stop that train of thought right now missy.”

Marinette sat up, blinking. How could she… Oh.

“I’m an idiot.”

Tikki giggled while she flew up and booped her nose, while Kaalki sniffed from the corner.

“I can’t believe you forgot about me Guardian. You’ve given me out before!”

Marinette giggled at the kwami’s haughty attitude.

“Sorry Kaalki, I got a bit too emotional to think clearly.”

Kaalki just grabbed a sugar cube with a huff and flew off. Marinette climbed off her bed and grabbed her bright pink suitcase.

“So who wants to help me pack?”

~~<3~~

Chloe, Kagami, Luka and Marinette were all sitting at a table at a café during their lunch break. Luka had graduated already, so he was usually free to hang out. Chloe had come up to Marinette not too long after Lila’s takeover with an apology. Marinette had been wary at first, but Chloe was actually really nice when she wasn’t putting up an act. She had soon proven herself and had been given another chance at being a hero, under the new name Honeybee. Kagami had approached her after Adrien had asked for advice on the Lila situation. She had hated his passive approach, and when she had tried to talk to him about it, he just refused her help, ignoring the fact that he had asked for her help. Kagami had come to offer her help, and they become friends soon after. She had re-claimed the dragon, under the new name Tempête. Luka had heard Lila’s heart song and immediately knew that was someone that he didn’t want to hang around. He had tried warning Juleka and the rest of Kitty Section, but Lila had told them that having an older singer wasn’t a good look. He had been kicked out, and Marinette had been there to comfort him with pastries and musicals. After she had introduced everyone to each other, they had become a tightly knit group. So, as one could imagine, they weren’t taking this well.

“They gave you a week? That’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

Kagami made a noise of displeasure as well.

“Sending you to America seems a bit extreme, what reason did they give again?”

Marinette scoffed.

“My ‘recent behaviour’ or something like that. Also known as, Lila. Oh, that’s not even the best part.”

Marinette gave out a dry chuckle and everyone looked on in interest.

“Apparently, I’m working with Hawkmoth.”

Luka plucked a string on his guitar, sending out a loud note. Chloe just stared in disbelief, and Kagami made for her foil.

“I’m going to run them through with my sword.”

Kagami gripped it tightly, ready to get up and make good on her threat, but Marinette grabbed it from her, unbothered by the fencer’s unimpressed glare.

“No-one is stabbing anyone. I don’t really have a choice, so I just have to suck it up and deal with it. Besides, it could be good to get away from Lila.”

Chloe was the first to get up to give her a hug, followed by Luka, and then by Kagami, who Marinette wasn’t completely sure that she wasn’t just trying to get her sword back.

“It’ll be ok guys, we can still video chat through Skype or something. I won’t be able to text, because I’ll be on an American phone plan, but we can figure something out!”

Chloe pulled away and took out her phone, tapping away immediately.

“I’m going to get you an amazing phone plan, with unlimited overseas. Same for the rest of you. That way, we can all talk and not worry about the fact that there’ll be an ocean dividing us.”

Marinette slowly took the phone and added it to her slowly growing pile, pointedly ignoring the glare Chloe shot her.

“I’m sure there are other, free, ways to contact each other. I think there’s an online service, what’s the name in English? Chaos or something like that?”

Luka strummed at his guitar in thought before pulling up an app on his phone.

“Is this the one you were thinking of?”

He had opened Discord, in dark mode of course, and had his profile open.

“Yeah, that’s the one! We can talk on there, and it has the bonus of being accessible from computers! So, no reason to go overboard, ok Chloe?”

Chloe humped and opened up the app store, downloading Discord. Kagami noticed what she was doing and mirrored her. They all took a few minutes to make accounts and become friends, before Luka, the one with the most experience, had set up a server for them all. Quickly choosing nicknames, Marinette pocketed her phone with a grin.

“Now that that’s done, anyone want to come help me pick some things to take?”

~~<3~~

It felt like the week passed quickly, lessons passing by in a blur. She didn’t pay much attention, just enough to keep Mrs Bustier satisfied. She didn’t bother alerting anyone in the class (outside of Chloe) that she was leaving, ignoring their taunts and insults. Chloe and Kagami had been big helps in learning how to ignore them, so now they rolled off her like water on a duck. She made sure not to bring anything valuable, most of her stuff was in a suitcase anyway. On her final day, she only had her schoolbooks, the school assigned tablet, and three neatly wrapped gifts. As she was packing up to go meet her friends for a final goodbye, she was stopped by Alya.

“I need you to make a dress for the upcoming school dance.”

Marinette briefly noted that this was a demand, rather than a request, but she just started her usual commission speech with a sigh.

“Depending on the materials used and the time it takes to make, the dress could cost anywhere from €300 to €500. There will also be shipping costs, plus the fact I’m not taking commissions right now, so it will probably be a few weeks before I might be able to get started on it.”

Alya was staring at Marinette like she had grown another head.

“€300, what are you talking about? I’m not paying youfor a dress, and you make mine every year, so what’s the problem? I can’t wait a few weeks, the dance is next weekend!”

Marinette sighed and pushed past the taller girl.

“The problem is that I don’t have time, materials are expensive, and I made you those dresses when we were friends. But we’re not now. So, leave me alone. Goodbye Alya.”

She walked out to meet her friends, leaving Alya behind, too stunned to talk. When she snapped out of it, she grumbled to herself.

“She’ll see reason on Monday. She has no right to refuse after all she’s done to Lila! Maybe if she makes Lila’s dress too, she’ll forgive her! Lila’s nice like that, Marinette will come around after making up for everything she’s done!”

Alya walked away, satisfied, planning her new dress in her mind.

Marinette ran up to her friends, engulfing them in hugs. They all hugged right back, sad to see her go. Marinette suddenly pulled away from the hug, and grabbed three parcels out of her bag. She handed them all out, urging them to open them. Luka opened his first, finding a beanie that perfectly matched his hair, with a teal snake pattern around the rim. Chloe went next, her patience not holding any longer. She got a headband with tiny bees embroidered all along it. Kagami received a red handkerchief, with an elemental dragon on one side, and a storm cloud on the other, a lightning strike going all the way across. They all started to thank her at once, with Marinette just blushing sheepishly.

“I just took note of all your favourite heroes, and added them to a design. It’s not that big of a deal.”

They all hugged again, before the clock chimed behind them, making Marinette jump.

“I have to go! I’ll send you all a message when I land, but you better not stay up for it if it’s late here!”

A chorus of “No promises!” filled her ears as she ran home, taking in the sights one more time. She burst into the bakery to find her mum still working the counter, and her dad busy baking. Not thinking much of it, she went up to her room to grab her belongings. After some quick cuddles from the kwami, she had everything she needed. Most flew into the suitcase, comfy in the hidden area Marinette had made, lined with a soft faux fur. Only Tikki and Kaalki flew into her jacket, ready to transform if need be. They had assured her they wouldn’t show up on the x-ray, so she was fine with having them in there. As she lifted her suitcase and went downstairs, her strength from being Ladybug shining through, she was surprised to see her parents still busy at work.

“Maman, Papa, I thought we were going to the airport now?”

Her parent’s exchanged looks before Tom stopped his baking and walked over.

“Honey, we can’t afford to come with you, we need to keep the bakery open. There’s an Uber outside for you, but you’ll have to go on your own. I’m sorry.”

He pulled her into a hug, one she half-heartedly returned. She walked over to hug her mum as well, and went outside with her suitcase.

This was it.

She was really being sent away.

All because of some dumb liar.

With a comforting press coming from inside her jacket, she got in the Uber, prepared to start her new life.

[cybernaght]

Guardian rewatch: Episode 3

First of all, wow. When I decided to post those online, I was expecting that they would be read by two people, both of whom I personally know. It was in equal part surprising and terrifying that so many of you ventured here. Thank you for reading, I really appreciate it. 

Episode 3 is probably my favourite case. It’s not perfectly strung together, there is little actual investigative work in it, but it’s a beautiful story of boundless love and devotion, which echoes through the relationship between our protagonists

Professor Shen is looking at some materials that are looking suspiciously like research into something supernatural, when Zhang Ruonan makes an appearance at his office, claiming that she is absolutely fine, while clearly being very far away from fine. This is something Shen Wei can certainly relate to, because he is the king of hiding his ailments from others. 

Zhu Hong’s one-sided affection for Zhao Yunlan starts to show already in this episode:  while he has the cold, she nags him to take care of himself, shoves tissues into his hands, and presses him to drink his meds. It’s easy to imagine even this early on that she will be the woman drunk dialling him one day. 

I know this could be seen as straightbaiting, but I honestly thing that the actual purpose it serves in the show is the opposite; I’ll talk more about it when we get there.

Zhao Yunlan spends a lot of this episode in Shen Wei’s office, starting with this scene, in which is obviously flexing. Not only does he sneeze all over the office, he goes to eat Shen Wei’s cake after specifically being told not to eat it.  He also takes his opportunity to mix questioning with flirting, as is his usual way. He keeps eye contact while spooning cake into his mouth, as he explains, jovially, that another mysterious death on his campus cannot possibly be a coincidence. And, to be fair, he is not really wrong. We are meant to believe that this is all set in motion by Zhu Jiu, aka the least scary villain in the history of villainy, and an owner of your staple baby goth wig. I will not mention him again until the plot makes it impossible for me not to do so. 

Zhang Ruonan comes in, and Zhao Yunlan introduces himself as Shen Wei’s good friend. Which is half-way between a flex and an act of kindness. On one hand, he could have said he was from the police - which would be absolutely true - and risk tarnishing the professor’s good name. On the other hand, he could probably look less pleased with himself. Shen Wei, at the very least, looks neither grateful, nor amused. 

Zhao Yunlan asks her if she new the victim and she looks incredibly shifty as she flees. He is right to think that something is up, and he correctly assumes trauma, rather than guilt. We can now start to see that he is very very good at reading people. It must be equal parts thrilling and disconcerting for him to have met something who he decisively cannot read. Shen Wei vouches for the woman, partly, surely, because his Hei Pao Shi sense is tingling, letting him know that someone is eavesdropping. 

Despite feeling uneasy, Shen Wei still offers Guo Changcheng, who is left to collect various paperwork from his desk, a little smile. He has a reason to like Xiao Guo, of course: he was the one to see the young man’s kindness and understanding, and he is already growing protective of him, way before he will start seeing members of the special unit as his people. This reminds me of how many months later, he will subtly, but decisively stop a barrage of verbal abuse against Xiao Guo by dropping a pair of chopsticks. 

Zhao Yunlan is taking Xiao Guo with him on the case rather than anyone else, partly, supposedly, because of Guo Changcheng’s familial connections. The young man looks more sure of himself, asking correct questions, dutifully records answers. He also tries to look after his Chief by asking him to go home and rest. He does phrase it badly, but Zhao Yunlan has a thing against his own health and well-being, so he reacts extra poorly.

Soon after, Zhao Yunlan’s at Shen Wei’s office yet again, as Shen Wei tries his best to ignore him, in the hope that he… well, maybe not goes away, but does not ask him anything that will require him lying. Instead, Zhao Yunlan is asking Shen Wei why he is bad at reading people, which is a very strange thing to ask. Shen Wei answers his question with a question, “Will seeing through people really lessen the hurt and disappointment?” Adding, “Many tragedies were destined from the beginning”. He looks well.. like this as he says it. 

This is loaded. On first glance, it’s a pretty good set-up to the way this story will unfold, as a tragedy of two individuals who let their devotion to each other nearly ruin each other’s life. A fragile human and a dangerous powered Undergroundian: what else is that, but a tragedy, waiting to happen? But this story - this one right in front of us - will not end tragically, at least not for the two people it enters around. It could do so, but it will not. Maybe, this truly is the first hint that this entire narrative, so carefully set up from the very first time Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei meet, is destined to be a tragedy. Moreover, that it must be one, for some cosmic reason. 

(… I apologise while I go have a little cry in the corner. Damn you, Guardian, why do you make me hurt so much?)

Da Qing inexplicably morphs from black cat to a human in white t-shirt while doing night shadowing, and promptly falls asleep on patrol. Why is he being sent to stake anyone out? He is least suitable for it.  He is literally a cat. He sleeps 16 hours a day. 

Surprisingly, when pressed, Zhang Ruonan comes clean very easily, revealing that she was a victim of the three students she failed (two of which are already dead and one one standing right next to them), who lured her out at night, which left her vulnerable to be attacked. Zhao Yunlan listens to this story, and instead of… oh I don’t know, perhaps asking her the identity of the third student, leaves to go find that out for himself. It is heavily implied that he does it on purpose, which is definitely not okay.  

Moreover, he goes and... asks Shen Wei. This makes me suspect that he’s not really thinking with his head at this point. As he does so, he is brandishing a letter opener. 

Shen Wei is looking even less impressed with him than he did during their last few conversations. 

Zhao Yunlan is a little bit flippant when it comes to students’ lives this episode. And yes, they have done something really quite horrible to another human being, but that's not a very good excuse to let the last of them just die. As it happens, the situation Yunlan created - perhaps on purpose - did lure out Zhao Ruonan’s murder girlfriend, but it also cost a student his life. Which is far from ideal, but is somehow never even mentioned. Instead of being aghast, he sits on the table as he goes into full interrogation mode. (As he will continue to do a lot. Sometimes he crouches on tables instead. There is no further point here, apart from: I like this character quirk. It’s a nice character quirk.)

He brings some of his team in at this point, and asks Zhu Hong to continue interrogation. It would be a nice gesture is he did not interject two questions in. 

“How do you regard your relationship with Wang Yike?”

“We are family.”

They are definitely, decisively not going for sisterly bond here. Which is kind of incredible. This is one of the moments the amorphous being that show is looks at the censors, wiggles its battered low budget eyebrows at them, and then proceeds to flip them off. Well done, Guardian. 

Wang Yike calls Zhang Ruonan, saying there is one more victim she needs to take care of, and Lin Jing traces the call back to campus. Zhao Yunlan, who did not even bat an eyelid at a dead student earlier, now looks decisively worried  

“Oh no. Professor Shen.” 

The only reason Shen Wei is attacked is jealousy. Wang Yike does not know this of course, but trying to kill him is a bad move, because a) he has long ago given his heart away, and is definitely not interested; b) this is probably the only thing she could do to make the man on the case very very upset; c) Shen Wei’s immune to her powers. 

“Someone like you will never understand what she means to me!” Wang Yike shouts eventually. “As long as I can protect her, my life has worth!” And, even as Wang Yike has no way of knowing it, these are the words that ultimately save both her and her loved one. Because Shen Wei does in fact understand what Zhang Ruonan means to her. His own endless and ultimately self-destructive devotion is his main driving force.

Shen Wei pretends to be hurt, again, which earns him a half-hug from the object of his devotion. If Zhao Yunlan does notice that Shen Wei should really come out of this attack grey haired and dead, and not just mildly inconvenienced, he chooses not to say anything. 

Worried about her murder girlfriend, Zhang Ruonan rushes in and accidentally touches her. Zhao Yunlan Freaks The Hell Out. Shen Wei does, too, but in his own, reserved, way. They are both emotionally invested in those two people, although for very different reasons: Shen Wei is acutely feeling resonance of his own past in their story, and Zhao Yunlan, I think, wants to fix it, he wants to be able to make it better. Instead, Shen Wei fixes it for him, turning the tide on this tragedy, and giving it a happy ending. He heals Zhang Ruonan right in front of the officers of SID, albeit with much subtlety. (“Have someone saved her right under our noses?” Zhu Hong will snort the very same evening, and she will be 100% correct.)

Shen Wei also lets Wang Yike go despite the undeniable fact that she did kill three people. Here, he is looking at the picture of this human/Undergroundian couple, surviving despite all odds, and touches his only reminder that Kunlun really was in his life. 

He then burns the picture as the only evidence that Wang Yike was not punished by him for her crimes. 

In the end, Guo Chengcheng is making first of his many diary notes about the events, recounting a conversation between Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan we had not witnessed, in which Shen Wei mentioned a relationship based on devotion that can last a thousand years, and Zhao Yunlan called such a relationship “guarding”. Finally, Guo Changcheng hopes that he can become a guardian of all. 

And this is making me think that this absolutely should be a set-up for him becoming a wick of the guardian lantern, as per every single other decision that was made prior to the last two episodes. Right? This is a perfect foreshadowing, and mentioning it here, so early in the show would not make any sense if it were a deliberate subversion. So, was Guo Changcheng meant to become the wick after all before... what, some rewrites happened? What made the final episode be what it was in the end?

(This is a genuine question by that way, if anyone has any insight on the matter.)

The episode would end here, if this was a western show, with a familiar monster of the week structure, but it does not. At least, the way it ends is reminiscent of a cliffhanger, with Zhao Yunlan catching Shen Wei in a middle of a crime scene, and looking betrayed. 

Next episode: Lynchian Nightmare, aka people without faces. 

PS.

I did not have a seamless way to stick this in anywhere but... Shen Wei’s technological ineptness at the max: he does not know how to use a Polaroid camera. Help him, he is so lost.

——

Second point of housekeeping to say a few things: 

I don’t think I will be consistent with certain things being transliterated versus translated. I am more likely to use Hei Pao Shi rather than Black Cloak Envoy (because the later reminds me of Tuxedo Mask, which makes me inwardly giggle every time) but at the same time I am also more likely to use Underground/Undergroundian rather than Dixing/Dixingren. I am more likely to use Xiao rather than Little, but have called Chu Old rather than Lao before. I hope that’s not grating, but do tell me if it is

My recaps are Shen Wei-heavy. I have no real explanation for this, apart from.. I like Shen Wei. 

I realise that there will definitely be things here that are head canon and speculation rather than flat observations; this show is a work of fiction and a work of art, which cannot be interpreted objectively. If you have alternate takes on anything I write in the future, let me know! 

[shreddedparchment]

Pseudo Princess Pt.29

Captured and Caught

04/24/2020

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader          Word Count: 5,876

Warnings: language, slightly graphic injuries, angst, trauma

A/N: I hope you like this chapter. It had a lot of stuff I wanted to see but this is the final stretch. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

PLEASE DO NOT RESPOST MY STORIES. Reblogs are welcome!

Tags are CLOSED!

It feels like a nightmare. Bad luck. A curse.

Just when you hope things are better, they’re exactly that much worse.

The world is intent on making things difficult for you.

It will never be easy.

But here, in this moment, with fear licking at your heels and instinct taking over—you react.

Phin moves towards you, lunges at you. All the blackness in his eyes—the familiar lust you’d hoped you’d left behind tells you what he wants.

Before he can touch you, you reach back in search of what you’d been sure you saw on your way down to the village.

You hope it’s still there.

Cold and wet, but hard and sturdy, the broken wooden hoe has only left its staff. It’s enough.

You swing it forward with all the strength you can muster and are rewarded with a resounding THWACK as the wooden rod breaks against Phin’s forearm and the side of his head.

He grunts, pained by the hit, but it sends him staggering to his right and you begin to inch to yours, rounding about his left to put you closer to your old cottage only a short sprint away.

So close. Steve is so close.

“Stay away from me.” You tell Phin, voice shaking despite the strength of your attack.

Phin still terrifies you and your body is still catching up to that. Your desire to protect your little one outweighing the fear and panic.

“You little bitch!” Phin growls, spitting onto the soggy ground a nice thick stream of vibrant red.

“I’m warning you, Phin. Stay back, or I’ll fetch my husband and he'll finish what I started.” You adjust your grip on what remains of the wooden staff, broken and sharp now, you could just stab him.

You can’t.

You will if he comes close. If he threatens the safety of your Prince. You will murder him if necessary.

However, as Queen of Broklin now, you shouldn’t.

“Husband?” Phin sneers, moving a step towards you as he lowers his large arms to swing threateningly at his side. “Who would want to marry you?”

You understand what he means, but he goes on. Insulting you, but you don’t care. As long as he stays away.

“No smart man is gonna want an orphaned trollop.” He seethes, visibly angered by your assault.

“I never gave you anything.” You tell him, you were a maid for Steve and you’ll not have anyone contest that truth. “You tried to take. But I beat you then and I’ll beat you now, Phin.

“I’m more than the girl I was.

“But you’ll always be a foul, loathsome, rapist. If you know what is good for you, you will turn around and go back home. Leave me be. Or you’ll regret it even more than you already do.” You offer, taking another step to your right putting you closer to the cottage.

Phin laughs as if he can’t take your threat seriously. As if you’re a joke.

His gaze goes dark again and he lunges towards you as you raise your makeshift spear. He halts, feet stuck to the ground as his eyes travel over your head towards your little run-down cottage.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Steve’s deep voice wonders.

You don’t dare turn your back on Phin to check on Steve but you’re sure he’s there, being as threatening as he can in the state he’s currently in.

“I’m here.” You tell him, voice flooded with relief and joy that Steve heard your commotion with Phin.

There’s still a small quake of fear as you begin to calm, and you know that Steve will hear it and worry. In this instance, you are more than alright with his fretting.

“Who’s that?” Steve asks.

“No one.” You say quickly. “He’s nobody.”

The intent is clear. Insulting. Malicious. You hope he feels like nothing, just as he made you feel time and again before your life changed.

“Hmm.” Steve says, playing for time. “Well, come inside my petal, it’s freezing.

You finally look at him and nearly faint at the exquisite sight of him in his torn and dirty tunic, white shirt frayed at the seams.

Despite his tattered appearance, he’s a vision.

His wide shoulders still fill the space and as he ducks underneath the doorway—Steve is too tall for the opening.

“Thanks for stopping by, Nobody, but I must ask you to leave my wife and I in peace.” Steve says, almost echoing the casual venom you used yourself earlier.

You move quickly into the box of Steve’s extended arm. As soon as you’re in reach, he caresses the back of your head, neck, then his hand slides down to the small of your back as he moves with you inside.

Dropping your parcels on the ratty bed, you hunch over, pressing your hand to your tummy as you wait for the world to stop spinning.

“Are you alright?” Steve asks, moving to you, intent on putting his hands on your back again.

However, he’s still not well and you’re quick to turn before he can touch you.

“I’m perfect. Get back into bed while I make us something to eat.” You chastise him.

“I’m fine. I don’t need to be in bed.” He argues, his jaw tight in rebellion.

“Steve, please?” You don’t have the inner strength to be stern with him after meeting Phin so unexpectedly.

“You’re not alright.” He says, reaching out with his hand to cup your cheek but once more you stop him, taking hold of it and pushing it down.

“I’m a little startled. I wasn’t expecting to see him so suddenly.” You admit.

Steve watches you for a moment, storm blue eyes intent on every miniscule shift in your expression.

Slowly he inhales. You search his own face and find a quiet fury building in him.

“Steve…”

“It was him, wasn’t it? The guy that tried to-” Despite hating that someone else had hurt you, you can see the guilt in Steve’s eyes.

He’s still torturing himself over your wedding night and probably every night after that when he’d used your body, refusing to accept you as his wife.

“He’s gone. Please let it go. If he comes back then I will not protest your defending my honor, and our little one. But you’re still injured. And we must lay low. We can’t afford to call attention to ourselves.” Turning around you undo the twine wrapped around the largest parcel.

Pulling his new trousers out from the stack of clothes you’d purchased for both of you, you hold them up then turn back to face him and hold the pants against his waist.

They’re just the right size! A smile creeps onto your lips, smug and proud that you’d assessed Steve’s size correctly.

“I’ll heat you some water. You can take a quick washing and then change into these new clothes. We’ll both need some cleaning up.” You ponder the amount of water you’ll need, and you’ll have to take two trips. You’ll send Steve to bathe first, then you’ll wash yourself quickly.

Moving to the cauldron with its broken handle, you manage to lift it, but a light smacking sound draws your gaze behind you.

Steve is already there, taking the large basin from you.

“Doctor Selvig advised you to take care. I’m fairly certain lifting cauldrons full of water would be the direct opposite of that.” Steve tells you, annoyed with your refusal to rest.

“Steve-”

“And we’ll bathe together. I will have you within my sights until we are back in the safety of our castle, or your father’s.” He leaves no room for argument as he tucks the large cauldron under his left arm and then reaches down to take hold of your hand. “How will we do this?”

Waiting for you to instruct him, he stands looking down at you, his hand squeezing yours every few seconds.

“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?” You tell him, lips curling up at the corners.

“And you’re mine.” Steve gives your hand another squeeze. “Where to my flower?”

With a sigh you remove your hand from his to wrap the clothing you’d purchased up one more time, then tuck the package beneath your arm and take his hand again.

“There’s a river close by. We’ll bring the water back, heat it up, and I’ll set down some hay in the corner so that we can bathe in the warmth of the cottage.” You explain.

“To the river then.” Steve declares and pulls you from your home.

With Steve at your side, it’s hard to feel unsafe. Not only is he large and imposing, but he takes such great care to make sure that you are alright.

He makes sure you’re seated comfortably on an old fallen tree before he wades into the edges of the river and scoops up way more water than you would have.

This way, the two of you will not have to make more than one trip. The water will take longer to heat but you’ll take that over trudging out here in the cold again.

“I bought us enough food for two days.” You tell him, sure that it’s enough. “We won’t have to come out again until then, and we’ll go hunting instead of back into the village when the time comes. I think staying out of everyone’s notice is in our best interest.”

“I agree.” Steve nods, holding the cauldron steady as it fills. “If it was Pierce behind the attack—both of them, and I’m sure he was—then he will not give up so easily. He’ll send scouts.”

“You would think that he’d be ashamed to do it.” You frown, hating Pierce with a passion after the fear he made Bucky strike within your heart.

Your son had almost lost his life before he was even here. If Bucky had succeeded, even though it was clear that he’d been under someone else’s influence, you would not have been able to forgive him.

Steve shakes his head. “Pierce cares only what the Kingdom can do for his pocket. He wants the prestige. He wants the glory.”

“Being a King is not glorious. Not always.” You agree.

Steve smiles softly, still watching the water.

“No.” He agrees. “It isn’t. Sometimes we must make terrible decisions. We make choices and must stand by them.”

“Like when you chose to marry me?” You offer.

Steve’s head whips up, his eyes searching your face for any sign of pain or distress.

“Choosing to marry you was the best decision I have ever made, in my life.” He assures you.

“But it didn’t feel like that when you made it.” You remind him.

He sighs heavily, standing up, his wide shoulders slumped a bit as he holds the heavy cauldron. “No. It didn’t.”

“You’re worried I’m upset.” You realize, getting up from your spot and moving towards him.

“No.” He says, holding his hand out towards you. “The water’s cold, stay there.”

You ignore him and move to the very edge, the toes of your fancy shoes resting just out of reach.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think on us, Steve. You made what you thought was the correct choice for your Kingdom. No one with any common sense would fault you for that. And what happened between us in the beginning is in the past.

“It was very painful, and it taught me that one might plan for something and find that it doesn’t go at all how one expects. I am cautioned now. And I also know that when offered a challenge, I can rise to it and weather the struggle—mostly. I did run away.” You smile.

Steve doesn’t return it and instead seems to pout. Unintentionally, but still, that lower lip of his protrudes just a bit and you resist every urge in your body pushing you towards him to capture those pink lips between your teeth.

“Oh, my love.” You chuckle. “When will you believe me that I do not regret our beginnings?”

“I regret them for you.” Steve tells you, still pouting. “I married you and made you my Queen. I should have treated you like one.”

You chuckle again and open your arms for him, your small belly protruding through the open cloak.

His eyes wander down to it and you can almost see the excitement flare up in his eyes.

It sends flutters into your chest and nearly takes your breath away. But he makes the choice to go to you.

As he hoists the cauldron up and begins to move towards you, a shift in the trees behind him catches your eye and you start, alert.

“What is it?” He asks, aware of your sudden panic.

He turns to look at what you see but there’s nothing there now.

“We should get back.” You whisper, almost certain that you’d seen someone watching.

As Steve takes your hand and you both begin the walk back to your little dilapidated cottage, you can’t help but wonder how truly safe you are here. You were never safe before…and nothing seems to have changed.

“Are they here?” Tony asks, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he picks up his golden crown—shining red rubies sparkling at Nat as she stands up from having just woke him.

“They’re approaching the gate.” She assures him, as tony springs from his comfortable cushioned chair.

Nat gives Bucky a glance, just a lump underneath many blankets in her room. No other place would do. She’d insisted once she’d woken up to find everyone gone, searching for you and Steve.

“If I must stay here, then I’m going to have him in my room where I can keep both eyes on him and make sure that you or your guards can finish what you started years ago.”

Tony had of course been offended. He hadn’t tried to kill Bucky in years! And he’d given his word…Doing right by you meant doing right by Steve. He couldn’t go around killing his best friend.

She follows Tony, watching the way he nervously adjusts his lush red velvet robe. His boots fall heavily with his drowsiness against the pale stones of his floor.

Nat smiles. Just a little. It’s amusing, how much he looks forward to meeting with the Wakandans. Especially their Princess. She seems to be of particular interest to him.

Nat knows why. It had been them that had crafted Bucky’s first arm. The skill she used, the way she wielded metal somehow seemed to have a power over it to make it do as she wished was something Tony greatly admired.

“Open the gate.” Tony says loudly and there’s a scramble of guards as they rush to open doors as he goes.

There’s a clatter of hooves as the gates are thrown open and through it marches six large black horses pulling the largest of Tony’s carriages. Behind it is a smaller cart with reinforced wheels, packed heavily with cases and boxes made of steel and iron of the likes that Tony has never seen.

His heart beats rapidly with excitement at the contents that those boxes may contain.

As the carriage rolls to a stop, there’s a flurry of movement as the coachmen dismount to open the doors.

Tony waves over a few of the burlier servants and gestures at the cart behind the carriage.

“Get those down to the first dungeon. And take their trunks to the third-floor rooms, by the Southern tower.” He orders.

Nat and Tony watch the open carriage door until first emerges a tall man in beautiful blue and black silks. The intricate pattern along the neckline—an array of angled triangles and squares—is beautifully stitched. The elegant lines of this man’s dress only enhances the warm umber tone of his skin and the piercing dark of his eyes. The otherwise gentle flow of the fabric is hidden underneath a thick black cloak, silver thread along the hem and neckline.

As he alights, the man bows his head at Tony and Tony returns the gesture. He struts over to the man and holds out his hand who graciously takes it and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Your Majesty, King T’Challa.” Tony says, his reverence clear. This is a man and a kingdom he admires.

“King Anthony, Tony.” T’Challa replies.

The two of them smile and then chuckle as they quickly embrace.

“My friend.” T’Challa says. “How are you?”

Tony sighs, almost as if he has been waiting for someone to ask this question.

“Much better, now that you’re here.” Tony nods, then looks to the carriage as a petite hand peeks through. “Allow me.”

He moves forward as T’Challa and Nat give their greetings to take Princess Shuri’s hand.

With a firm grip she allows him to lead her down the steps and smiles at him for his kindness. Tony’s eyes shine.

“Good day, Princess Shuri.” He gushes, completely enraptured with her intellect.

“Hello again, your Majesty.” She smiles, a knowing sparkle in her eyes. “Well, where is he? Where is the White Wolf?”

 ~~~~~~~~~~

“I thought you said he had been beaten to within an inch of his life?” Shuri says, assessing the fading bruises on Bucky’s sleeping face.

“He was.” Nat assures her. “His bruises have begun to fade, and we’ve done the best we could with his arm. Tony removed the remnants of what was left of it. We put them side for you, in case you needed them.”

“I do not need them.” Shuri assures her then takes her finger and presses lightly against the bruising on Bucky’s face. His cuts have healed and have since faded.

Nat had been completely astounded by the miracle of it and then she realized that Hydra must have done more to him than even he knew if he could heal so quickly and not scar.

“He heals fast.” Nat says, hovering by the post footpost of the bed, wringing her hands to release her anxiety.

Shuri’s gaze goes to them and Nat quickly tugs on the bodice of her blue dress before crossing her arms across her chest to keep them out of the way.

“Faster than normal people, I mean.” She clarifies.

Shuri turns back to Bucky and pulls over a small wooden case. She opens it and pulls out what looks like a mirror without the silver. She holds it to where his shoulder sits empty, his arm gone.

“How long has he been unconscious?” Shuri asks, and once again Nat begins to wring her hands. This time, she doesn’t attempt to hide her worry.

“It’s been at least two weeks.” She says in a quiet whisper.

Shuri sighs. “I’ll need to know everything. From when he began his attack to the moment he was brought to submission.”

Getting up, she turns to look at Tony and carefully covers Bucky’s armless shoulder again.

“Do you have somewhere that I can work?” She closes her box and tucks it underneath her arm.

Solemnly, Tony nods, his eyes on Bucky. Wondering if it’s his fault that he hasn’t woken up.

He’d given him the full force of his chest beam…what if he injured him internally?

Shuri grabs hold of her yellow skirts and moves for the door. Tony right behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~

Warmth envelops you. Presses against your stomach. There’s a shift there, like a soap bubble popping, but inside. It feels strange.

You hear a chuckle, hearty and happy. The sound of it pleases you so much that you smile despite the sleepy state you find yourself in.

Still mostly unconscious, you reach down towards the warmth on your tummy and you remember as your hands find slightly stiff hair that you’re pregnant.

The popping bubbles make more sense now and you realize that your little prince must be kicking.

Then you remember that Steve is the only one to chuckle just so and you force your eyes open. You need to see him.

You find him looking towards your feet, both of his large hands pressed against the small swell of your stomach. His ear rests against the exposed flesh, your dress gathered up along your waist leaving you exposed.

Maybe you would have protested if the sight before you had not been so sweet? It is still chilly.

However, you can’t bring yourself to complain as you run your fingers through Steve’s hair with a bit more conviction.

He sits up a little, looking down at your belly, cupping it lovingly. Hot gentle lips kiss your skin, sending shivers up and down your spine.

Steve pulls your dress back down, laying it over your legs carefully before he meets your eyes then lays himself back down beside you.

You melt against his chest as he pulls you close, searching for your lips with his own.

You give him what he seeks, and he chuckles as you pucker your lips against his.

“I’m sorry I woke you.” He whispers, almost as if he’s still afraid to do so.

“You didn’t wake me.” You assure him. “Our son did.”

You reach down with a free hand while the other holds onto Steve’s shirt front.

“He was moving.” Steve declares, his storm blue eyes shining with glee. “He’s really in there.”

What a funny statement. You chuckle, unable to helps yourself with the innocence of Steve’s realization.

“Of course, he’s in there, my love. Where else would he be?” You laugh again, easy and slowly as you reach up to frame his face.

“I don’t know. I guess I just never thought I might feel him move before he was born.” Steve admits.

For a split second, your heart hurts for him and the family he’s so obviously been desperate to have.

Reminding yourself that finally, with you, he will have it—you pass by the painful thought quickly and settle back on pleasant satisfaction.

“He’s really there.” You promise him.

After a few silent minutes, Steve gently caressing your stomach while you take stock of your current state, your stomach growls and Steve is up before you know what happened.

“Where are you going?” You ask, startled.

“You’re hungry.” Steve points out.

Before he can get too far you catch his wrist and pull him back towards you, tugging him down and he obeys, kneeling beside you on the straw bed.

You tug his shirt up, exposing his ribs and the faded scar. He doesn’t fight you, letting you fuss over him. Probably enjoying it.

“It’s so much better.” You gasp.

Steve chuckles.

“I’m sorry, I’m still not used to it.” You admit, shaking your head a little as you lower his shirt again.

You stroke his cheekbone, tracing the lines you’d memorized over the last two weeks where black and blue had mixed on his peach skin.

It had taken these bruises so much longer to heal than the last he’d gotten, and Steve had surmised that it was because Bucky was different.

“What do you mean, different?” You’d asked him, wary.

“He’s changed. I didn’t notice before because we’d kept relatively safe. I’d been so broken up about Margaret’s death and Hydra had gone under after we’d rescued Bucky that we had no reason to seek a fight.

“The few quests we did go one had minimal fighting and I took care of that mostly.” Steve had ignored your frown at the time, refusing to give in to your stress over his throwing himself into harm’s way so readily.

“But what do you mean? Are you saying he’s like you?” You’d supplied, guessing rather well.

“Very much like me. I’m not sure what they did to him, but I don’t think all the did was take his arm. I’m fairly sure they put something else there too. Deep in his head probably. Magics or something of the like.” Steve had gone into silence as he’d mulled over his suspicions and you’d made a mental note to ask Grandmother about magics that could alter one’s mind the way Bucky’s had been changed.

You’re glad his bruising has gone down. No more swelling. Only a faded pink scar reminds you of the beating he’d taken for you.

Steve catches your hand, holding it by the wrist before he pulls you towards him. He wraps one arm around your waist while he continues to hold the other to keep you leaning towards him.

He ducks his head down to reach your lips and kisses you until you’re forced to turn your head to take a breath.

“Steve…” You sigh, laughing nervously. “…you’ll suffocate me.”

He chuckles and gets to his feet. “What will you have for breakfast? Should I go get you a squirrel?”

You frown at him, glancing at the small window that sits mostly covered by an old tattered curtain. There is no light shining in. In fact, it looks absolutely pitch black outside.

“It’s not even morning yet.” You argue.

Steve looks at the window too, hands going to his waist as he stares at the lack of sunlight.

“Guess we overslept a little.” He says, but you know very well that he must have been up for hours.

He’d let you sleep, and when he looks back at you, he’s exuding a quiet worry. He’s trying to hide it from you.

“Steve…” You plead.

“I didn’t want to wake you. You looked very tired and you’re not eating as much. You’ve lost a little weight.” He sighs. “I need to get you back to Tony’s castle.”

“It’s too dangerous.” You shake your head. “We’ll wait another two weeks and then we’ll go. They’ll have moved on by then.”

“We don’t even know if they’re here.” Steve argues. “The last we heard they were two towns over.”

“And that isn’t very far.” You point out. “They will come through here, I know it.”

Steve sighs heavily, frustration sweeping off of him in rolls as he flexes his jaw. He wants you to eat well. He wants you healthy. But he can’t control the stress you’re under. The fear that you feel at every moment that you will be found by Hydra and that they’ll do something to your baby.

They could kill you and you’d be happy, so long as your child was allowed to live. With the fate of the kingdom, however, you know that your son’s life would be the first to go.

No. Food is the furthest thing from your mind, despite the necessity you have for it to live. You want to be home and safe, where no one can touch you and your little one can live in peace.

“I’m fine with bread and cheese.” You tell him, leaning towards him, reaching for him because he’s close enough that you can graze his pant leg.

“We have no cheese.” Steve snaps.

“Then just bread!” You laugh lightly, grabbing his pant leg and pulling him close once more.

He falls to his knees for you, walking towards you before he sits back and places his hands on your belly.

“This will pass.” You whisper for him, reaching up to pull him down so that you can press your forehead to his. “We will get out of here and things will be better. Bucky will be fine, and our child will be born happy and healthy and we will live out the rest of our lives together until we both die wrinkled and gray, still arguing over how best to care for each other.”

Steve sighs, and you can almost feel the ache in his chest in your own. Placing your hand there, you massage it lightly, your brow furrowed in sympathetic agony.

“You are doing fantastic, Steve.” You assure him and he meets your eyes.

They shake, filling with tears before one slips along his cheek. You wipe it away quickly, smearing it along his slightly dirty cheek. It’s been impossible for either of you to get properly clean here.

“You’re losing weight.” He argues.

“And that’s not your fault. I’m just worried.” You finally admit. “About you, about our son. I’m worry about Nat and Father and Bucky. And I’m terrified that someone will find us and you’ll do something stupid to try and protect me.”

You tease him, and he sniffles. Shutting his eyes, he pulls you tight again his chest so that your back is curved in a slightly uncomfortable position as he holds you there. Yet you give him what he needs, wrapping your arms under his and around to rest against his back.

“I can’t lose you.” He whispers fiercely.

As he breathes in, it shakes with emotion and the chuckle rolls across your throat softly.

“Oh, Steve.” You say gently, trying to pacify his own fears. “Once our little one is born, you will always have a part of me with you. Until then, I promise not to leave your side.”

“You can’t leave me even after he’s born!” Steve fights you.

“Alright.” You relent. “Do the others know just how needy you are? How much attention you require? How romantic you can be?”

Steve pulls back, shaking his head before he shrugs.

“They saw me with Margaret.” He says.

“And were you like this with her?” You wonder, genuinely curious and not at all jealous.

“Only once or twice. Under very similar circumstances.” He admits, rising again and moving to grab the basket of food you’d gone out to purchase four days ago.

You relax on the bed, so close to the ground that you can feel the cold from outside seeping through. Rising you move towards the fire and throw in a few more pieces of wood Steve had gathered.

The fire roars a little stronger and Steve meets you back on the bed with the basket.

“Just bread now.” He tells you, but he cuts it in two and offers you the larger piece.

“Steve…” You frown, reaching around his outstretched hand to take the smaller piece.

“You need it more.” He argues.

“And you’re bigger than me.” You point out.

“You’re so stubborn!” He growls but is interrupted as the door to your little cottage is thrown open.

You gasp, nearly screaming as you drop your bed, startled by the sudden noise.

A rush of cold wind fills the cottage, your fire crackling loudly as it tries to combat the sudden cold.

Steve thrusts himself between you and the door, turning to give you his back with his shield already in hand.

“When I tell you to run, run.” Steve says quietly.

From the darkness of the opening, a familiar head of red hair struts in, his smirk hateful and bitter.

“You shouldn’t have hit me, Your Majesty.” Phin says, mocking you and your title.

No! You think in terror. How?

How did he find out?! This can’t be happening!

“And now you’re going to get exactly what you deserve.” He spits, then steps aside as a dark figure moves in behind him.

You coil in on yourself, cupping your belly as you prepare yourself to turn and run as Steve begins to rise from his crouch in front of you only to stop halfway.

The figure steps into the light, and it feels as if your heart might explode in jubilation.

With his sepia skin, still mostly silk save for the frost-bitten tips of his nose, ears, and chin Sam gives you and Steve a small minute shake of his head.

You cling to Steve’s back more tightly, noticing the other things about Sam that you hadn’t noticed before.

He wears head to toe black, the same leather tunic with subtle metal plating on his torso and legs that the Hydra knights had been wearing. He glares at both of you then whistles loudly.

Behind him rush in a party of men you’ve never seen before. All of them wearing the same armor.

“Come quietly and we won’t hurt the Queen.” Sam says, such danger in his voice.

You’ve never heard Sam sound this way. It drives chills down your spine.

With no choice but to obey, Steve drops his arms, defeat in his shoulders.

The other knights haul him to his feet, ripping the shield from his hands and then escort you both towards the door.

Sam steps aside as you move through the doorway, one of the knights poking into your back painfully but you don’t dare make a sound.

As you pass them, you look at Phin, clinging to Steve’s arm which is held out back towards you to offer you what little protective comfort he can. Sam reaches onto his waist and pulls a pouch of what must be gold and tosses it to Phin.

“If you speak of this to anyone, you will feel the wrath of Hydra’s sword.” Sam warns Phin, a true threat.

Phin goes white.

You and Steve are shoved roughly into a large closed cart. You trip on your way in but Steve turns to catch you and settles you there between his legs in the far corner of the carriage. You can feel the wood rough and splintered beneath your legs and adjust your dress as best you can.

“Move quickly. This needs to be done before morning.” Sam orders the guard then climbs in after the two of you and moves to sit himself on one of the built-in benches on the sides of the cart. “Shut the door. Lock it.”

They obey him, slamming the doors shut and then bolting it shut. A moment later, you’re jerked forward as the cart begins to move.

For ten minutes, you cling as tightly as you can to Steve, his arms hot and tight. Then as the cart’s movements become steadier, he relaxes his arms. It gets faster, cutting through the winter night quickly.

Steve sighs.

“What took you so long?” He shakes his head, then reaches up to caress the side of your head. “Relax, my flower. We’re safe now.”

Confused, you turn to Sam and find him smiling. He wiggles his eyebrows at you, brilliant white teeth shining down at you as your heartbeat slows.

It had all been a ruse!

“How are my skills of deceit, your Majesty?” Sam asks you, then chuckles and relaxes against the side of the cart.

“But…” You begin, confused, and so emotionally wrought that you begin to cry without meaning to.

Maybe it was all the built-up fear over the two weeks you’ve been back home, or maybe it’s the relief that you’re finally somewhere that the treat of death no longer presses down on you and your baby.

“Shit…” Sam says, moving towards you on his knees to hover uselessly before you, not daring to touch you as you sob softly.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.” Sam says, but Steve pulls you closer.

You hide your face into his chest, clinging to his shirt tightly as all the stress you’ve been feeling goes pouring from your eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Sam repeats, this time speaking to Steve.

“It’s not you.” Steve assures him, stroking your back. “We’re just finally safe.”

He kisses your head, pressing his lips against your hair. “You’re safe.”

[alittlewhump]

Unbidden - Act 3, chapter 7

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Content warnings: None

Blaise walked in on Morgan after the worst of it had passed, but before he was ready to open his eyes or move. He groaned a protest as she checked his pulse. Her fingers felt hot against his skin. She was repeating his name, he realized.

"Morgan. Morgan. Come on, say something if you're all right."

He tried. His mouth made a couple of syllables but they were incoherent and nearly formless, not the words he'd been aiming for. He took a deeper breath and tried again, producing something not entirely unlike "all right". Close enough.

"What the fuck, Morgan?" Her tone of voice was hard to identify. He forced his eyes open a little. Her tone of face was also hard to identify. Partly relieved, partly annoyed, partly something else. "What the hell are you doing out here? Why didn't you let me know where you were? What are -" There was a clinking as she picked up the bottles. "Are you getting high? Tell me you have a better explanation than that," she said, disgust colouring her voice.

Morgan took another deep breath and pushed himself up into a seated position. He lurched sideways - the golem hadn't responded to his command properly. Wait, no, he hadn't commanded it properly. It was a golem, after all; moving them was not the same as moving his body. That was going to take some getting used to.

"You're going to have to start talking soon. I know it's not easy here, gods know I hate this fucking jungle and everything in it, but this is not an acceptable way to deal-"

"I'm not..." He winced. The pounding of his head intensified when he spoke. He tried to keep his voice low. "... doing that."

"You know I'd love to believe you, but the evidence is all pointing to you doing exactly that. Akarat's beard, Devak is useless after just one of these things and you're half his size. Why the fuck are you alone out here getting knocked off your ass on Alkor's concoctions? No, wait, let me guess - is it for the Balance?" Morgan closed his eyes. The revulsion in Blaise's voice was punishment enough; he wished she didn't have to be shouting, too.

"Yes, actually." As the words exited his mouth, it occurred to him that it was probably not the wisest choice of responses. At least it bought him a few precious moments of silence to gather his thoughts. Blaise was gaping at him open-mouthed when he risked looking at her again.

"You have ten seconds to explain yourself before I fucking lose it," she finally snarled.

"I came out here alone because I needed to focus. I took those potions because I needed the power."

"For what, exactly?"

"To fix this." The golem arm lifted on command this time.

"Fix what?"

Oh, she thought he was gesturing with that arm. His sleeve had fallen down to cover it. He pushed the fabric back up with his other hand, revealing the improved limb. The flesh was smoother than it had been, the valleys of its many scars filled in with new tissue. It was not quite the same colour as the rest of his body, strangely ashen now. It was pleasing to see it was no longer blackened as it had been. Possibly a side effect of integrating such a comparatively large item.

"This arm. It's a golem now."

"What? Really? You can do that? Holy-" She started to reach out, then stopped herself. "Hang on. Is that what Ormus got so upset with you about?"

Morgan wouldn't have characterized it as upset, exactly. The mage had expressed his reservations at length, though, and with some volume at times. He'd just wanted to draw upon the other man's experience, which apparently had included being an observer to some unfortunate experimentation with carnomancy. It had been an informative lecture.

"I considered his concerns." He could tell by the twist of her mouth that he'd chosen the wrong thing to say. "The benefits outweighed the risks," he explained. It didn't seem to help.

"Outweighed - how?" Morgan grimaced as the pitch and volume of her voice rose, stabbing a spike of pain behind his eyes. That particular turn of phrase only had one meaning. So she wanted more explanation, but clearly she didn't want to listen to it at the moment.

"Why are you so angry," he said quietly, pressing his hand to his eyes. Maybe if he just kept his voice low, she would follow suit. "I'm just trying to -"

"Why am - this is dangerous, Morgan!" She had not followed suit. She was just getting louder. "Out here, on your own, fucking - experimenting on yourself. You don't even have a sentry to keep watch. Did you forget about the jungle full of things that want to kill us? You could have died out here!"

That hit him just the wrong way. His head was throbbing, every inch of him was uncomfortable, and he couldn't muster up the energy to figure out how he was supposed to respond. Not when anything he could say was going to be wrong. "What does it matter," he hissed instead.

"It matters because you're my friend, you asshole!"

That snapped his eyes open. "What?"

Blaise turned away, throwing her hands in the air. "You're being an ass! I'm not going to apologize for saying it, honestly there's a lot worse I could think of to call you right now. We have an important job to do, you can't just take a big risk like this without - don't make that face, I said I'm not apologizing."

The rudeness wasn't the part he was having difficulty with. She could be upset for a lot of reasons, they didn't always make sense to him. It was something else that had brought his thought processes grinding to an abrupt halt.

"... I'm your friend?"

"Don't try to change the subject, of course you are, why wouldn't... wait, really? Seriously? Of course seriously, you're always serious. You honestly... all right, so why do you think I'm here in this horrible jungle in the first place?"

"Because an angel told us to come here."

"All right, yeah, that's true. But why was I in that tomb with you when we met the angel?"

"Because Jerhyn agreed you should pursue Baal, to cut off the demonic attacks at their source." He pulled at the hem of his shirt. It was better than it had been earlier, but it was still a discomfort. This reiteration of past events wasn't answering any of the questions he suddenly found himself with, either. At least Blaise's anger seemed to be fading.

"That's also true, but it's not the whole - all right, this isn't working. Look, of course we're friends. We've been friends ever since you buried - reburied - our old commander, at the Sisterhood." Morgan watched in confusion as she seated herself in front of him. It was possible she'd taken the portal lesson as a token of friendship, but... no, that didn't line up with the rest of the evidence.

"You said - after that, after Andariel - you said you didn't like me. Friends are people you like."

"Did I say that? I don't remember... but," she continued quickly, "there's a lot I don't remember. Sometimes I say things I don't really mean. Especially if I'm upset. I just say whatever pops into my mind, and it isn't always true."

"You also hit me several times."

Blaise grimaced. "I did, didn't I? But I apologized for it, I remember that much. I'm - do you really - all this time we've been travelling together, do you still think we aren't friends? That nothing changed? That I don't even like you? Even after everything that happened in the desert?"

"You're a good person," Morgan reminded her. "And you can be kind to someone even if you don't like them. I... yes, I assumed nothing had changed." He kept tugging at the rough threads of his shirt. "You never said anything to the contrary," he added. Between the confusion and the discomfort, he almost wished he could crawl right out of his skin like a moulting lizard.

"You idiot. Look at me." He did, nervously. She was looking into his eyes, eyebrows slightly raised, intense in her focus. No longer visibly angry, which was a positive. "Listen, I really mean this. You're my friend, Morgan. I like you, I like having you around. I think you're a good person too. I care about you, I care about what happens to you, and that's why I'm upset right now. I thought you were dead for a minute there. I know it's somehow not a big deal for you, but I care if you live or die. So talk to me next time before you do something big like this, all right?"

He had no idea how to respond. All he had were questions, mainly why? Why in all of creation would someone like her decide to choose him as a friend? Friends were supposed to be equals, in his understanding, and he was so much less than her in every measurable way. It didn't make any sense. But he would have to grapple his way through that baffling puzzle later. Right now she was looking expectantly at him, waiting for an answer.

"All right," he said. "I'll try."

"You'd better," Blaise said, holding his gaze for a long second. "Now what made you decide to... go through with this? I don't understand a whole lot of what Ormus says on a good day, but he seemed to think it was a really bad idea. And I know your arm was in rough shape, but I thought you had that under control."

At least Morgan had an answer ready for that question. He'd debated it for long enough to reach a concise conclusion. "Andariel left me crippled. Duriel was quick to see that weakness, and we are searching for much stronger demons than him. When I found a way to lessen the damage, I thought it wisest to take it. I do not wish to face a Prime Evil with an obvious vulnerability."

"All right, that's fair enough. I get it. Now, enlighten me. What would have happened if this... process didn't work?"

He looked down at his hands. Why did she have to ask that? Based on the conversation they'd just had, she wasn't going to like the answer, no matter how he put it. "It did work," he tried, turning the golem back and forth in demonstration, flexing its fingers.

"That's not what I asked." There was an edge to Blaise's voice, and Morgan fought the urge to flinch away. "You said the benefits outweighed the risks. I want to know what the risks were."

"I was very careful. Even after I found the dagger, I spent days and days thinking about it before I tried anything."

"Stop dancing around the answer."

"None of the ways it could have gone wrong were very likely to happen. I planned for that."

"Likely or not, what would have happened?"

He sighed. He knew he'd never win this battle of wills with her. "Bodies are complicated systems. Any mistakes could have been fatal."

"Morgan-"

"I didn't realize it would upset you," he hastened to add. "I wasn't trying to make you angry. I just wanted to be stronger, to be able to help you. To help keep the Balance," he added. His priorities were a little confused, between his duty and Blaise and the angel's entreaty, but they all pointed in the same direction at the moment.

Blaise pinched the bridge of her nose. "That's really not what I - all right, ignoring the rest of the problems with that for now, you can't help anything by being dead."

"I'm not dead," he pointed out.

"And I want you to stay that way, understand?" He nodded. It wasn't something he could promise, and he still didn't really feel like he'd grasped why she would want that, but the fact of her wishes was clear enough. She seemed mollified for the moment, giving in to curiosity instead.

"Now tell me about this," she demanded, pointing at the golem. "Was it hard? It must have been hard. You hardly ever use potions. What does it feel like? Did it hurt? Can I touch it? Why did you mention a dagger earlier?"

He held it out for her to examine. "I had to use an enchanted item to fortify it. Like I do sometimes with the clay golems. It was a dagger. The process was more complicated than I expected. It took a lot of energy, and there are some things I still want to try. But the side effects of Alkor's potions are stronger than I'm used to, and I don't want to take any more of them. So I'll have to wait."

She lifted his wrist, running one hand up to his elbow. "That feels so weird," she breathed, but it didn't stop her from repeating the gesture. "It's not quite like regular skin. Can you feel this?"

"Sort of." He actually hadn't given much thought to input like touch. It was nice that it didn't hurt like it had before, and that was as far as he'd considered it. The ache at the connection point was almost ignorable, minor in comparison. He did feel something, but it was hard to tell if it was actually from the physical contact, or if it he just thought he felt it because he could see it happening.

He asked the golem to relay a sense of touch and regretted it instantly. It gave him too much, and not the way he'd hoped - not enough focus on the outside, but a very clear sense of the softly pulsating pressure on each of the individual tendrils buried in the living flesh. It also drew more power from him to accomplish that, which was another new and uncomfortable sensation. He shut his eyes and told it to stop.

Blaise pulled back. "Sorry, was that too much?"

Morgan shook his head. "It's not that, it's not you." He took a steadying breath. "I was just trying something. I should have waited." He squinted up at the specks of light filtering into the building through the thick jungle canopy. "The plan was to rest for another hour or two."

"I guess I blew that, huh?"

"Yes. But I'm glad you came. You don't have to wait with me," he added after a moment's thought.

"Nah, it's nice enough in here. Good spot." She leaned back, propping herself up on her elbows. "I'm glad you finally figured out how to take a break."

"What do you mean?" Of course he knew how to take a break. Everyone knew how to rest, it was a simple matter of not doing anything.

"I mean it's good that you're taking the time you need to recover now. You know, instead of pushing yourself until you can barely walk." She gave him a pointed look. "Like in the desert, when we were looking for the Horadric cube."

"Oh." He had run himself ragged for that. But it had been worth it in the end. It had been essential to get them as far as they were now. Which was, upon reflection, still trailing behind the Prime Evils. It was difficult to know just how far behind they were. Tyrael had told them to hurry, he recalled with a jolt. It was slow going through the cursed jungle. This endeavour had only cost a few hours, but the nagging tug of urgency was starting to pull again.

Morgan took stock of himself. He'd planned to recuperate, but how much did he really need to? The shaking had stopped, his heart rate had returned to normal. He was feeling more than a little drained, though, and his head still ached painfully. "I'm nearly rested enough to start moving," he offered. "There haven't been as many demons down along the river, we could-"

"Don't even fucking think about it," Blaise said cheerfully. "I take it back. When normal, sane people say they're rested, they mean they feel good and they're actually ready to go. When you say it, you just mean you don't think you'll collapse right away. Do you understand the difference there?"

"The difference is that I know my limits," Morgan replied. That was necessary for a priest of Rathma, the ability to gauge oneself accurately, to be able to do the maximum amount of work without walking unnecessarily into death's embrace.

"The difference is that you seem to think your limit is dying!"

"Of course. Don't you?"

"Well, obviously that's a limit for everyone, don't get sarcastic with me."

"I'm not."

Blaise stared at him for a second. "No," she agreed, "you're not. You just... you're missing the point."

"What is the point?"

"Well, you wouldn't ask me to go out hunting demons the next day after being-" She cut herself off abruptly, looking away. "Right after getting seriously injured," she finished, "would you?"

"Of course not."

"But you don't treat yourself the same way."

"No," he agreed. "That's different."

"It shouldn't be different. Why is it different?"

"My duty is more important than my comfort."

Blaise rolled her eyes. "Ugh, your duty. Is it more important than your life?"

"Yes."

"No, it isn't!"

"Of course it is. Long ago, Rathma created our order with the sacred charge to maintain the Balance of the Great Cycle of Being. If it slips too far to the Darkness, the Chaos, humanity suffers. If it slips too far to the Light, the Order, humanity stagnates. Humankind can only progress if the Balance is even. We dedicate our whole selves to keeping the Balance. A single life or death is nothing to the Cycle. Death comes to all living things. And if there comes a time when my death would serve better than my life, I will gladly choose death. That is our way."

Blaise was silent for a time. "You know," she said eventually, "the more I learn about your Order, the less I think I like it."

Despite himself, Morgan's heart sank. The Order was a central part of him as much as he was part of it. If she didn't like it, it logically followed that she didn't actually like him either. That must have been a misunderstanding on his part. He often had trouble with people's intentions. She really just liked having him around, as she'd said - he'd been making himself useful enough for that, at least. That was fine. It was better that way, really. More familiar, easier to understand.

"You're more than just a tool for the Balance, Morgan," Blaise continued. Your life has value on its own."

"No, I - we don't... that's for other people," he said, taken aback. That was not at all what he'd been expecting to come next. And it was wrong. A kind sentiment, to be sure, but still wrong.

"Why can't it be for you?"

It was Morgan's turn to think quietly for a while. The relentless pounding of his head was making it hard to concentrate. Of course there was a reason, but the words to explain it wouldn't present themselves. Priests of Rathma had to hold themselves to a different standard than other people. They were selected to do important work, and in doing so, they shed the conceit of personal importance in favour of the truth. They stepped outside the normal systems of value and worth, for it would be impossible to measure anything accurately from the inside of that sphere. It had to be that way. It was important. There was value in it, a different sort than the value Blaise thought she saw in him.

That was a large and unruly concept, one that threatened to overwhelm the emotional control he'd managed to rebuild. She saw value in him. Not for his work, just for his... self. How strange, how wrong, how tempting. How good that might feel, if he let it. To be worth something in someone else's eyes. A long-buried part of him wanted that, much more strongly than he would have guessed. That part warred with his sense of duty, his obligation to the Order.

He didn't need validation, didn't need to prove himself to anyone any more - he'd been deemed adequate to take on a task for the betterment of humanity, and that was enough. He didn't need friends. That was a want, not a need, and a want that should have been overcome long ago. Personal relationships weren't forbidden per se, but they were dangerous in that they could lead to an erosion of objectivity. But if he could be very, very careful, that hopeful part of him suggested, maybe he could manage it. Maybe he could earn this. The possibility left him feeling strangely, pleasantly light.

"Well?"

Morgan blinked hard to refocus himself. "I don't have an answer for you," he admitted. Strangely, Blaise seemed to be satisfied with that response.

"Well, keep thinking about it. We aren't going anywhere for a while. You just... rebuilt your whole arm. Fuck, that's amazing. Take your damn time recovering."

[shimmershae]

My thoughts on Episode 8--For Blood

As always, placed behind a cut for those of you that would rather escape my babbling, lol.  You’re welcome.  

Sadly, I don’t think this is anticipation I feel.  I’m pretty sure it’s dread but okay.  Here we go.  

This episode has to go up from the rock bottom boredom of last week, right?  

Let me preface what I’m about to say with the truth that I in no way hate Maggie.  She’s been with us since Season 2 and I have an emotional attachment to her, mostly due to my love of Glenn and the way he loved her.  She’s not my favorite by any means, but the fact of the matter is, I do like and appreciate her and don’t mind that she is back because it’s nice to have old familiar faces with us to take us into the final season.  That said?  Forcing Maggie front and center after her long absence ultimately, IMHO, has not worked in these first 8 episodes.  I can’t help but feel if ASZ had been the A story with Maggie/Negan and Daryl/Leah/the Reapers the B1 and B2 story?  These episodes would have been better received overall and not feel so much like they’re trying so hard.  Maybe lead me toward the water instead of shoving my head in it next time, Angela?  Hmm?  

Oh goodie.  They’re opening at Meridian.  Should I get my bathroom break out of the way now or give myself an out for later?  Call it Shae’s choice, lol.  

That flicker of a smirk Leah gave to Carver after their mini walk down memory lane had more spark to it than the entirety of her and Daryl’s toxic relationship.  In the future, maybe Angela will lean all in on them instead of Leah and Daryl.  Something tells me Leah knows this “brother” biblically.  

Daryl recognizes Whisperer moves when he sees ‘em.  Somehow, he realizes Maggie and Negan have banded together however reluctantly.  

Pope doing it “Dixon’s” way but not allowing Dixon to do the actual thing shows the level of distrust and paranoia the man still haves for outsiders. 

Look at Daryl chewing his lips with worry for his people.  If he and Leah know each other even a little bit, she has to recognize that as one of his tells.  

Ooohhhh.  Who took the first stab at Wells?  Maggie?  Negan?  Father G?  I swear.  I took my eyes off the “ball” one second and the whole damn play is halfway down the field.  Sorry.  If you cannot tell, I watched football with the fam yesterday, lol.  

The Walking Dead logo didn’t crumble this time.  Interesting.  Parts of it looked like it had been rebuilt.  With brick.  Wood.  Other parts of it looked reclaimed by nature.  Call me crazy, but that almost looks like an eye/part of a face on the first D.  

Okay then.  Babbling nonsense about the logo over, lol.  Tell me.  Please.  Anybody.  How do the events at ASZ line up with the events at Meridian?  Because it’s night and full-blown storming in ASZ and still daylight at Meridian.  But hey.  Thank fuck we’re in ASZ.  

All the babies huddled together giving me feels.  Sorry.  I know some feel they have no place on the show, but I personally enjoy their inclusion from time to time.  It usually plucks hard at my heartstrings.  

Connie tenderly comforting an injured Virgil is sweet, not gonna lie.  

Aww.  Is that Hershel petting a scared RJ’s hair?  Unless it’s a case of me not being able to pick out and place all the little hands, which it most certainly could be, I’m thinking Judith’s got her hand on her knee and that’s Hershel’s hand in RJ’s hair.  Regardless of whose hand is where, it was a sweet little scene.  What can I say?  I’m easy because Baby Glenn and Baby Rick, ya’ll.  

Oh snap.  The windmill’s on fire and pieces of the wall are blowing down main street ASZ like steel tumbleweeds, lol.  

Anybody else having flashbacks to the barn from Season 5?  Good times.  We still had most of Team Family with us then.  They were in a bad place, hurting and lost and just trying to survive--when are they not just trying to survive?--but they were together.  I miss them.  

Carol and Lydia holding each other.  These two, lovelies, have my whole heart.  

Wells is Walker Jerky, Shaw.  Stop wasting your breath.  

“She did.  My enemy.”  I mean, are we supposed to get the impression Maggie’s been a formidable adversary to Pope?  Because she feels more like a roach that simply knows the best rocks to hide under.  Granted, roaches are hard to kill but still.  I’m gonna need them to give us something better than Maggie being Pope’s enemy simply because she didn’t want to give up her home without a fight because this is frankly unbelievable and bordering on stupid.  

Alright.  So they’ve obviously been sowing the seeds of distrust and defiance between Leah and Pope because she doesn’t like losing family but Daryl?  Man?  You and Leah have differing opinions about how family operates.  Trust me on this.  

So.  Three teams, huh?  Aaron fighting the windmill fire, Carol repairing the breach in the wall, Rosita protecting the babies that represent their future.  Choose your fighters, lol.  Seriously, though.  Why do I have the sinking feeling only one group is going to be shown actually doing their thing?  

Listen.  Am I pissed we haven’t gotten the scene we deserve yet between Carol and Connie after all that’s happened and we’re getting crumbs mainly because Angela wrongly feels the Reapers/Maggie & Negan/Daryl & Leah need more focus?  Absolutely.  You bet your sweet asses.  But Melissa fucking McBride just took the crumbs allotted her and made a magnificent, work of art cake out of it trying all on her lonesome to feed us starving Carol fans.  

Bless Connie wanting wanting to go with Carol.  What a show of trust and sister-like solidarity that must have some hate-rotted guts about to turn themselves out.  

I love Kelly and Connie’s sister bond.  No ill will intended, but It takes the good parts of Maggie and Beth and elevates it beyond anything those two ever showed us.  I really feel like that’s a testament to Angel and Lauren’s real life ease with each other.  

Magna choosing to go with Aaron makes me wonder if it’s possible she feels some kind of residual guilt over Connie.  Not guilt for anything she’s actually done, but simply guilt over making it out.  

Virgil volunteering to help.  Okay.  Damn.  I’m honestly starting to like the guy.  

Judith offering to go with her aunt Carol had me all up in my feels.  I mean, granted.  It was a blink and you miss it scene.  We really deserved a longer heart to heart between that little girl and the woman that’s sacrificed so much to keep her safe and loved her for so long, but you know I’ll gobble any and all Judith/Aunt Carol content up.  Seems to me, Little Ass Kicker is just as afraid of letting Aunt Carol out of her sight as Uncle Daryl.  My heart.  

Gracie and Aaron are sweet.  And honestly?  I find them more realistic and true to what normal parents and children would be like in a ZA than Judith and Michonne no matter how much I love that bond.  I mean no disrespect, but I really do.  

“Why am I keeping you around?”  Pope asking the question we’re all wondering.  

Not Apocalypse Popeye comparing Daryl to a stray dog.  Joe from the Claimers already declared Daryl an outside cat that thought he was an indoor cat.  I did have to internally cheer when Daryl was like “I’m ain’t gonna lick it” talking about the helping hand Pope had extended him.  

“Somehow she has turned the dead against the living.  Oh, that’s impressive.”  The thing about Pope respecting Maggie so much as an enemy is I just find it hard to buy, lol.  Like if this had been Carol, yeah.  But Maggie?  Nope.  They’ve mostly shown her (with Gage being the bewildering exception) to be all bark and no bite.  

Has the house in ASZ really become that dilapidated that they can see through its walls?  Because its original owners dodged a bullet if so.  

Look at Grace hero-worshipping Judith.  It’s sweet.  

Virgil telling Judith Michonne would be proud of her is nice but doesn’t feel as earned as if someone like Daryl or Carol that actually knew Michonne well said it.  But maybe that’s the whole point--Judith needs to hear it from someone she knows isn’t going to just say what she wants to hear.  

Call me jaded, it was a touching scene, but also?  It felt designed to allow Judith to move beyond her very normal and realistic feelings of being abandoned by Michonne, even though she gave her the “okay” herself.  Like she’s still a kid.  Wants don’t always line up with feelings.  Anyway.  Cailey continues to be a bright, shining little star and I love how she’s managed to make Judith a true amalgamation of all the people she’s loved who have loved her in return.  Not just Michonne.  I know people like to overlook and cheapen the fact, but it’s taken a village and entire family to raise her from infancy.  

Gracie really should have known better than play in front of the windows during a storm period, but oh well.  Plot point, lol.  

Seriously, though.  I feel like they’ve teased poor Gracie’s demise in a multitude of ways since the beginning of the season.  I hope nothing ultimately comes of it but I fear it will.  All I can say if the worst comes to happen is poor Aaron.  

Where are Negan and Elijah though?  Ouch.  There they are, taking on shrapnel for the cause.  

Ready the what now?  

There’s ASZ’s Baby Sitter Extraordinaire!  Barbara, is it?  That lady’s been putting in the work since Season 5 at least.  

I’ve honestly grown to love Rosita.  More of her and less of Maggie, please and thank you.  

“Let’s stay away from the windows.”  I’m sorry but I had to LMAO at that.  Still a badass moment though.  

Gabe hobbling toward his assigned sentinel.  At least they haven’t forgotten he’s injured like they seemed to forget Daryl was near death last season before the attack on Hilltop, lol.  

“It’s hard to watch something you care about change.”  Listen, Leah.  Chick.  You and Daryl obviously never really knew each other.  It’s always been obvious but I have a feeling “DIxon” is finally going to show you, spoilers or no spoilers.  

WTF are they calling that thing?  Sorry.  I have just as hard a time understanding Pope’s accent as I do Maggie’s sometimes.  

That’s not love that has Daryl telling Leah she can come with him.  That’s care for somebody he used to know.  There is a distinct difference that’s obviously lost on so many.  How can you really and truly love someone you cannot trust?  Especially in Daryl Dixon’s case?

Why does Angela hate us so much?  Giving us all these Reaper scenes and leaving us to simply imagine Carol and Connie and Kelly working side by side to save the wall?  

I think I honestly could have enjoyed this whole Reaper storyline more, at least a little bit anyway, had they not retrofitted a half-assed romance between Daryl and the story’s weakest link and if only they’d made it the B storyline and given earned deference to the goings-on in ASZ instead.  

I wonder if Glenn taught Maggie how to hot write a car?  I miss my baby Glenn.

Apocalypse Popeye is several fries short of a Happy Meal.  What else is new on this show, lol?  

I care for Maggie.  Mostly for nostalgia’s sake and Glenn and Baby Hershel but damn, man.  She’s not actually proven herself got be worth killing your entire “family” for.  But are too far gone, so.  We’ll make allowances.  

I will say at least this episode is not as abysmally biring as last week’s episode.  

Leah finally giving Pope the throat punch he’s been asking for but I’m not fooled she’s on Daryl’s side here.  She’s always been on her own side.  

Look at Father G returning the favor for Maggie saving him in the tower.  Taking Deaver down!  Poor Deaver barely saw the light of day.  

Here comes that woman scorned part.  I can feel it.  

“Pope is dead.  Dixon murdered him.  He’s with the enemy.”  

Please, Angela.  I’m begging you.  Bring Carol into this story and ramp it the fuck up.  You been idling too damn long and the car is fast running outta gas.  

Bitch really has to die to framing Carol’s Pookie.  

Rosita and Lydia and Carol and Connie and Kelly and Magna have literally been holding up this damn show while Angela farts around with the Reapers bullshit.  Honorable mention goes to Aaron but these lovely, badass ladies been putting in the real work and not getting any of the glory.  You just know they’re tired AF.  

Not my babies Lydia and Judith being the cliffhanger!  Oh and Gracie.  Angela?!  A word.  

Listen.  Carol’s already done that fireworks trick.  That Reaper dude owes her royalties.  Granted, it was on a smaller scale but much more impressive for it because she was left to be the sharpshooter.  

Angela has a point.  It is kind of cool how Team Family have learned from their enemies and assimilated their useful points into their own cache of knowledge.  

I truly feel like the Leah/Reaper storyline would have benefitted from a much stronger actress.  Just saying.  

I know Judith annoys some with her precociousness but Cailey just keeps teeing off on what they give her and personally?  I feel she’s so very talented and light years beyond her little acting counterparts so it still works.  

“They’re never gonna choose each other over the people that they’ve loved and fought for because they simply cannot really trust each other.  There’s sort of, like a toxicity at the base of that relationship.”  Straight from Angela’s mouth.  

“At the end of the day, Daryl chose his family.”  Yeah, he did.  That “I belong with you” shit only happened when he felt they were all gone, including the one he loved above all others--Carol.  Fight me.  

Overall impression of the episode?  

On its own, disregarding how much I can’t help resenting how much time I feel has been “wasted” setting this story up, it was much more entertaining than Episode 7 which was only epic in that it was an epic bore.  There was still too much focus on the Reapers when I just just kept wanting to see what was happening at ASZ.  I mean, they cheated us out of Carol and Connie and Kelly working together. Of Aaron and Magna.  Call it personal preference coloring my opinions if you want, but the characters I care about feel like they’ve been shown the backseat for this self-indulgent exploration of Angela’s OC and her version of self-insert FF with Daryl Dixon.  If we can return to Team Family?  The whole Team Family and not just Maggie and Co. against the world?  You’ve got me.  If not?  Well.  You’ll keep losing me by degrees and you don’t want to do that on the final season.  

Anyway.  The ASZ parts were my favorites per usual.  The episode could have used a lot more of those.