#i still find it hard to add the same detail to anything but the face

[alifelongpassed]

Just some more Zevlor.

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (3/?)

Part summary: Leigh develops an unhealthy habit as she hits closer to rock bottom

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5.370 | Warnings/Tags: Some hetero stuff | A/N: Things will pick up after this part. I think there's going to be a total of 6 parts, but let me confirm that in the next update :)

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Next

-

Leigh is ten minutes late. 

It makes sense. Her willingness to attend this meeting was surprising, because if you were in her shoes, you doubt you'd have agreed to it. Listening to the entire history of a relationship can be exhausting, and it's hard to imagine what it feels like to hear about one that arguably should never have existed.

But just as you're about to think she's bailed or intentionally left you hanging, you spot her sprinting toward the cafe from across the street. She's a mess—hair soaked and sticking everywhere, face bare, missing its usual touch of makeup. But even like this, Leigh doesn't look much different from her usual self. You can't help feeling a bit envious of that.

She rushes into the cafe, attracting a few curious looks, but she barely registers them, her wide green eyes quickly finding you.

“Sorry I'm late,” she pants, struggling to catch her breath, “I got caught in the rain and then missed my bus.” The lie slips out effortlessly. True, it had rained, but the real reason was far more personal—something you didn't need to know.

You shrug off her apology with a smile, signaling the waiter for a menu for Leigh. “No worries, I'm just glad you made it,” you say.

Leigh gives you a quick once-over, then forces a smile and thanks you. Once her coffee order's in, she gets right down to it. “So, Matt,” she starts, her voice dropping to a whisper, “how did you two meet?”

You lean back, carefully thinking about what to say next. You didn't practice your answers ahead of time because you weren't planning to lie about anything. But you're wary of how you word things, not wanting to upset her. Being caught up with a married man is embarrassing enough as it is, and having to relay the details to his widowed wife only adds to it.

“Actually, our first meeting was totally by chance,” you say, bringing your steaming cup of tea to your lips. “I quite literally bumped into Matt one day. It was so brief, I barely gave it a second thought.”

You take a deep breath before continuing, “Then, about a week later, Matt showed up at my clinic with the same friend from before. It turned out, they were there for his friend's dog, who needed a check-up. Matt was just tagging along, helping out.”

Leigh’s face remains passive, making it hard to read. 

“The friend was the one who interacted with me the most that day. He even asked for my number, saying they were grateful for the help with the dog. I assumed he was interested,” you say, the memory coming back to you clearer now as you speak. “But, to my surprise, it was Matt who texted me later, not his friend.”

You barely manage to suppress the slight twitch of your lips, recalling how everything once seemed magical to you. Leigh on the other hand, takes a slow sip of her coffee, buying a moment to process.

“Who was that friend of Matt's? Do you remember his name?” she asks.

You pause, racking your brain for the detail, feeling its importance to Leigh. “Yeah, I think his name was Nick or something,” you say, scratching your head. Whether the name ‘Nick’ rings any bells for her or not, she doesn't let on. 

“Strange,” you mumble under your breath, but then shrug it off. “It doesn't really matter, he's not the one I—” You stop yourself just in time, realizing you're about to say something potentially hurtful about a situation that still feels raw, especially to Leigh.

Instead, you quickly pivot. “Anyway, that's how it all started. On the day of the dog’s follow-up, it was just Matt who came by. We struck up a friendship from there, and one thing led to another until he, uhm, asked me out for dinner.”

At this, you notice a subtle change in Leigh's demeanor. Her entire frame becomes more timid, the first real sign of emotion she's shown since this conversation began. 

You’re about to go on with your story when Leigh suddenly speaks up.

“So, you just said yes, even though he was your client? Don't veterinarians have professional boundaries?”

Ever since meeting Leigh, you've found it challenging to predict what might trigger her reactions—it's like navigating a minefield. Occasionally, you’d find yourself wondering what it would be like to know her without the complications currently defining your interactions. You think about the roles you both involuntarily play in each other's lives, roles neither of you auditioned for but somehow ended up performing.

You feel a lump form in your throat, and your gaze drops to your lap. “Well, he was persistent,” you say, feeling the need to defend your decision. Nevertheless, it sounds weak to your own ears. “But I made it clear nothing could happen until the dog's treatment was complete. And I insisted he'd have to find a different vet for any future appointments. It was... complicated.”

“I bet,” Leigh scoffs, crossing her arms. After a beat, she asks, almost too casually, “So, how quickly did you two... you know, have your first kiss?”

The question hangs awkwardly between you. You know you can’t answer it in any way you could avoid her judgment, so you just decide to spit it out. 

“First date.” Under Leigh’s scrutinizing gaze, it feels like admitting to a minor crime.

Leigh stares at you with unblinking eyes. “And how long after meeting him did this first date happen?”

You draw in a slow breath. “Three weeks,” you mutter. “It was last fall.” You add that bit, proactively laying out the timeline as if it could somehow soften the blow or make the situation less complicated. Leigh, however, looks like you've just knocked the wind out of her. She looks away, her expression shifting into something like shock or deep pain. Alarm bells ring in your head at the picture before you.

“Hey, did I say something wrong?” you say in a rush. “I mean, this whole situation is messed up, but if I—”

Leigh’s eyes are glass as they return to you. When she speaks again, her voice is so soft you almost have to lean in to hear. “Last fall... That's when I told Matt we should start trying for a baby.”

The words drain the color from your face. And suddenly, all the pieces of your story with Matt feels even more tainted.

You're not sure what your face gives away when you hear this news, but Leigh's expression quickly shifts from tearful to furious. “Stop feeling sorry for me,” she hisses. “I don’t need your pity.”

Leigh's tears start to spill over, and it's only 7:30 in the morning. It feels way too early for tears, especially here, in the middle of a coffee shop where the day is just beginning for most. You try to shrink into your seat, wishing you could make both of you invisible as the few other patrons start throwing curious, if not outright concerned, looks your way.

You never realized a simple conversation could cause someone so much pain. You thought providing Leigh with answers would help, but it looks like you're just making things even harder for her. Maybe keeping your distance from her is the kindest thing you can do.

“You know the worst part?” Leigh brushes away the tears that keep streaking down her face.

Clearly, she isn't looking for an answer, so you stay silent.

She makes sure she catches your eye before saying, “He agreed, and we started trying.”

-

Leigh catches her breath after wrapping up her class at the Beautiful Beast. 

She took a day off yesterday, immediately after talking with you, spending the whole day in bed just trying to sort out her thoughts and feelings. Surprisingly, wasting away for a whole day seemed to help, and her concerns gradually drifted back to her fight with Jules. It’s been days, and Leigh feels the urgency of reconciliation pressing on her. By this point, they should be on speaking terms again. By now, Jules should have let go of her anger, right? Leigh knows she can't afford to have her sister hating her. At least not right now. She needs her family, or what’s left of it—on her side. 

“Hey, Jules, got a sec? About the schedule…” Leigh tries, hoping work might be a safe enough topic to get her sister to acknowledge her existence once again.

Jules barely glances her way. Her hands keep moving, adjusting a strap here, aligning yoga mats there, as if the very act could shield her from having to engage. “Sorted. Check your email,” she replies, her voice cold and detached.

Leigh nods, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. “Great, great... um, did you consider adding that beginners' workshop we talked about?”

Jules stops for a beat, and Leigh thinks, maybe she's going to drop it. But no, Jules resumes fussing over items that hardly require any attention. Then, without even looking up, she says, “Yeah, it's on the list. Anything else?”

Leigh tries to keep her cool, wishing Jules would just cut to the chase and tell her what needs to be done for all to be forgiven. 

Trying a different tactic, Leigh goes, “Hey, found a Starbucks card in my bag. How 'bout I grab us some coffee? My treat.”

Leigh’s trying. She really is. Why can’t they see that?

Jules just gives her that look, the kind that doesn't need words, and heads back to her desk. And there's Leigh, offer of a beverage truce just floating in the air, going nowhere.

Getting ignored really gets under Leigh's skin. Back in the day, Matt's habit of brushing her off would drive her to the edge. She'd respond with over-the-top demands or twist things around just to make sure he’d always pay attention to her. She didn't start off wanting to be that person, but looking back, she sees the lengths she'd go to just to keep his attention from straying. 

Unable to control herself, she heads straight for Jules, grabs her arm despite her trying to wiggle free, and yanks her into the backroom.

“What the hell is your problem?!” Jules explodes, not caring if anyone’s heard her outside.

They're both standing there, kind of shocked by how heated things got so fast. Jules’ shout might've turned a few heads outside, but right now, that's the least of Leigh's worries.

“How many times do I need to apologize, for you to get over this?”

Jules’ eyes are wide in disbelief, her mouth twisting into a sardonic smile, like she can’t believe what she’s hearing.

“You’re so fucking full of yourself, Leigh! This is exactly why I’m not talking to you,” Jules hisses, but keeps her voice down this time.

“What—”

“Do you even know what you’re sorry for?”

Leigh's initial scoff dies in her throat as she watches Jules' expression twist with hurt. “Yeah, okay, I said sorry about the crap I pulled the other day. I know I was out of line, talking about your past like that—”

Jules doesn't let her finish. “You weren't just being ‘out of line’, Leigh. You threw the worst time of my life in my face! Do you have any idea how hurtful that is? Coming from my own sister? From my own family? What, just to win an argument? To cover up for acting like a jerk at the club?”

Leigh goes quiet, but her face hardens, trying not to show how much Jules' words hit her right in the gut. What she said, laid out like that, it sounds…well, unforgivable.

“I'm trying, okay?” Leigh blurts out without thinking.

“Shouldn't be that hard to just be a decent human being, should it?” Jules shoots back, her dismissal sharp as she exits the cramped space, leaving Leigh reeling.

Under her breath, almost like she's talking to the walls, Leigh mumbles, “I'm really sorry…” It's quiet, almost lost in the room, but she means it the most at this very moment, even if no one's around to catch it.

-

Leigh clocks out from work, her day's fatigue hanging off her shoulders like a weighty cloak. Instead of heading straight home, she veers off her usual path, her feet bringing her to places that made breathing difficult the first few weeks after Matt's death. She's walking the same old route she always did when he was still around, back to when her home address was different and she'd pick up takeout from his favorite places along the way.

There’s the park first, the one where she and Matt spent countless afternoons sprawled on the grass, lying side by side as they watched the sky blush into shades of orange at sunset. She allows herself only a fleeting glance at the familiar paths and the bench they claimed theirs, feeling the same regret, the same hollowness as she remembers the good times they had there. 

In the back of her mind, she can't shake off the worry that maybe you've been here too, making your own memories with him. She doesn’t feel the surge of anger at this thought however. Instead, a part of her is almost willing to share these sacred memories if it means holding onto him in any form. She wants to believe that her jealousy has faded into a quieter acceptance that others might also carry pieces of him, pieces she's learning to live with.

Pulling herself away from the park, Leigh's walk inevitably leads her past Matt's favorite Italian restaurant—a quaint, cozy place where they celebrated most of their birthdays and, on occasion, anniversaries, especially when neither felt like cooking (which became an increasingly common choice in the months leading up to his accident).

She remembers how Matt's face would light up at the prospect of their rich, creamy carbonara and the tiramisu he claimed was unrivaled in the city. She recalls the numerous times she attempted to recreate the restaurant's tiramisu at home, aiming to surprise Matt at least once a month. Despite her efforts, if she truly wanted to indulge him, she knew there was no substitute for the real thing. So, on special days, or whenever she felt an extra burst of affection, she'd stop by the restaurant on her way home, picking up takeout. 

A waitress from the restaurant notices Leigh's lingering gaze and asks if she'd like a table. With a shy smile, Leigh declines, then pauses before finally deciding to order a tiramisu to go.

When she returns to her mom's house and eats the tiramisu alone, it tastes different. 

Leigh can't decide if the difference in the tiramisu's taste is good or bad, but that doesn't stop her. She finishes the entire slice in minutes. But instead of feeling full, it makes her feel emptier. Perhaps, it’s not the flavor that's changed; it's the experience of eating it without Matt's enthusiastic commentary, without him lighting up at the first bite or playfully claiming the last one, despite his generous offer to let her have it.

Suddenly, tears just start pouring out of Leigh as she sits there with an empty plate. She didn't see it coming, no chance to stop it or shove it down. Then, she finds herself laughing—a deep, throaty laugh—because she's grieved for him in countless ways, but this, crying over a dessert, has to be the most absurd. It's exactly the kind of moment they would have laughed at together.

Deciding that that would be her dinner, Leigh cleans up the small mess she's made and considers the evening ahead. But just as she’s about to sink into the couch for a quiet night, her phone buzzes, making her jump.

Seeing your name flash on her screen, she sighs, sensing a familiar bitterness creeping back in, disrupting the soothing moments she had just spent reminiscing about Matt. She lets it ring a few times more before picking up.

“Hi, Y/N,” Leigh says, managing to keep her voice steady over the phone.

“Hey,” you start, unsure how to break the ice after everything. Especially with what you’re about to say next.

“Listen, something happened today at the clinic. Someone came in looking for their lost French Bulldog, and they had a picture,” you pause to breathe. “Leigh, it looks a lot like Visitor.”

On the other end of the line, you can practically hear Leigh's heart skip a beat.

“Hello?” you ask, checking to make sure she's still there after she doesn't respond for several seconds.

“Are you sure?” Leigh’s voice cracks slightly.

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure,��� you say softly, feeling a surge of empathy. “I'm sending you the picture now. Check it out and tell me what you think.”

You hit send and then wait for Leigh’s confirmation.

“It's him. It's definitely Visitor,” she says a moment later.

You're relieved but also concerned about what comes next. “So, what are you going to do?”

Leigh hesitates, and when she speaks again, she doesn’t give a direct answer. “Thank you, Y/N,” she says, and you pick up something in her tone. Something somber. 

“Everything alright?” 

But the line's already dead, leaving you staring at your phone, wondering what she is up to.

-

Leigh stands outside the community center, her hand lingering on the door longer than usual.  It's been weeks since she last came to a session. First, there was the shock of uncovering Matt's darkest secret, and now, there's the issue of the man inside, already looking her way, waiting to see her next move.

Danny appearing at her doorstep earlier in the week caught her completely off guard—and not in a good way. The moment she realized it was him, Leigh didn't hesitate to close the door in his face. After she shut him out, it escalated to the point where she threatened to call the police because he wouldn't stop pounding on the door and shouting for Leigh to let him in, insisting he just wanted to talk. His last attempt to get through to her fell flat when he flooded her inbox with texts and missed calls, pushing Leigh to the point where she blocked his number for good.

Despite the problem of Danny being here tonight, Leigh isn't willing to walk away from this just because of him. She's already given up so much lately, most recently Visitor—or Chico, as she found out his real name was—and his absence carved a fresh ache in her heart that she hadn't seen coming.

So, she takes a deep breath and pushes the door open, ignoring the smirk on Danny’s face as she proceeds to pretend like he doesn’t exist.

-

Somehow, after the meeting, Leigh ends up saying yes to a quick chat with Danny. He reels her in with the news that he submitted Matt’s remaining works—which he got custody of—to his publisher, and they were keen to publish them posthumously. 

Leigh can't help but throw in a bit of shade. “That's nice of you, doing something good for your brother, even if it's a bit late.”

Danny's face drops a little. Her words were sharp enough to hurt him, but he doesn't bite back or get in her face about it, which totally throws Leigh for a loop. After all the time she'd spent ignoring him, she had expected him to be at his worst around her.

And then he surprises her even more when he says, “Let me give you a ride home? It's the least I can do…”

Leigh arches an eyebrow. She didn’t bring the car tonight because Jules had a thing with Tommy, and she didn’t want to give her sister another reason to resent her. A ride from Danny beats the alternatives of walking or shelling out for a pricey cab, especially now that her phone's battery has given out, nixing the option of booking an Uber.

But this is Danny. Matt’s brother, and the guy she hooked up with because she thought she’d get back some semblance of her dead husband. After Jules pointed out how messed up it was that they'd slept together, Leigh's been all over the place. The rules around what they were doing either turned her off or, weirdly enough, made the whole thing more enticing, taboo and all. That's a big part of why she's been steering clear of him. Hanging out with Danny feels like reaching for a cigarette long after she's sworn off smoking.

Even with all that swirling in her head, Leigh ends up saying, “Sure, why not?”

Before she knows it, she's also agreeing to a drink at his place.

-

The second they step into his apartment, something inside of Leigh snaps. Acting on impulse, she grabs Danny by the collar and kisses him fiercely. She clenches his shirt in her hands, practically tearing it in her grip. Danny's initial surprise melts away in seconds, and then he’s kissing her just as hard, his tongue prying open her lips, taking control of the kiss right away. His hands find her waits, pulling her closer, practically already half-lifting her against the wall.

Leigh, caught up in the moment, begins to move her hips in a rocking motion against him. The action is effective enough to distract him from where he’s kissing every inch of Leigh’s neck, and he retaliates by suddenly pressing her more firmly against the wall, pinning her with his hips, their chests are tightly pressed together.

But as Leigh's fingers begin to fumble with the button of Danny's pants, he catches her hands gently and, panting, says, “Wait, Leigh, hold on for just a sec.” 

Leigh’s eyes fly open at his voice, irritation and impatience coloring them. “What?” she gasps out. 

He ignores the hard edges of her tone. He wants more—something real—and he's hoping she does too.

“I can’t do this again unless I know it’s going somewhere,” Danny says. He gently lets go of Leigh and takes a step back, trying to collect himself. It's a tough task, though, with Leigh looking the way she does—hair all tousled, lips slightly swollen and marked from when he got a bit carried away, her cheeks tinged with a warm flush. He could’ve made her come in the next two minutes, he’s sure of it.

At Danny's confession, Leigh can't help it; she bursts into laughter. The idea of him catching feelings now, of all times, seems absurd to her. As she laughs, Danny's jaw tightens, but he waits patiently for her to finish.

When Leigh finally notices the seriousness etched across Danny's face, her amusement evaporates almost instantly. The realization that he's not joking strikes her, and it doesn't sit well. Not one bit.

“What, you think because your brother's gone, you get to... what? Step in? Take his place?” she spits out, incredulous. “This is never going to be anything more than a quick fuck, Danny.”

In his desperation, he calls her bluff. “You’re lying.”

Leigh's reaction morphs into a cruel sneer. “If you're going to insist on something more, then we're just wasting our time,” she mutters, turning to leave.

Danny's not ready to let her walk away, not yet. He grabs her arm, and for a second, they're just staring each other down, a silent battle raging between them. Leigh’s resolve is impenetrable.

It’s Danny who cracks first, exhaling a defeated, “Fine.”

But Leigh's not having any half-measures. She whirls around, fire in her eyes. “Nope. Say it properly,” she demands.

With a sigh that feels like he's giving away a part of himself, Danny looks at her, worn and resigned. “This doesn't have to mean anything,” he says even if it’s the last thing he wants.

Leigh locks eyes with him, a storm brewing in her look. Just when Danny thinks it's better to just drop it, she throws him a question out of nowhere. 

“Did you know?”

“Know what?” Danny asks, genuinely puzzled.

“About Matt and me... trying for a baby when he... you know.”

“He... he never mentioned anything like that,” he says, feeling the pain she’s radiating. Leigh looks like she’s about to fall apart and all he wants is to be the one to gather her pieces and put them all back together.

No more words follow from Leigh. It's as if the question drained what was left of the conversation. Without warning, she surges forward, her lips meeting Danny’s in a bruising kiss, then she grabs Danny's hands, placing them firmly back on her waist. He gets the message loud and clear, and together they quickly shed their clothes, letting them fall in a heap around their feet. She comes about twelve minutes and thirty seconds later.

-

It's been eight days—not that you're keeping track or anything. But after giving Leigh the heads-up that someone’s been looking for a dog that looks exactly like Visitor, you were kind of expecting she’d at least update you if it really was him or not.

So, when a client strolls in later with Visitor, who's actually called Chico according to the file your secretary slips you, you're a little disappointed it's not Leigh showing up instead. It must have been incredibly tough for her to return Chico to his real family. She invested her heart, time, and not to mention her wallet, into that dog, caring for him as if he were her own.

Thinking she’d be relieved to know he’s in good hands, you send her a text to update her about Chico's visit to the clinic today. You mention how healthy and content he seems, yet you hazard a guess that he's probably missing Leigh too. 

She sees your message right away, and then leaves you on read.

-

Her thing with Danny turns into a late-night ritual, particularly after Drew fails to respond to her following their conversation, not even offering her a guest column in the weeks that followed their talk. Drew continues to invite her for coffee and dinner dates along with his fiancée, but he avoids the topic about the column, so Leigh stops asking.

The hookups are always a post-midnight impulse. She’d find herself sneaking out of her mother's house to meet him, driven by a mix of need and escape, or occasionally, by insomnia. After their moments together, she never lingers in Danny's bed for too long once she's found her satisfaction, eager to shower away his scent from her skin. 

Back at home, she ensures there's no trace of their deed by the time she slips into bed, allowing herself to sleep deep into the middle of the day. This pattern of nocturnal activity and daytime slumber has led her mother to adjust Leigh's responsibilities, moving her to take charge of the afternoon classes instead. This behavior earns her suspicious glances from Jules, but Leigh chooses to ignore them—if Jules isn't interested in reconciling, then she has no right to concern herself with Leigh's personal affairs.

Leigh doesn’t know how she got here, back at the beginning, in an ever messier situation. She can't stop fucking Danny, her emotions for Matt are a rollercoaster—she finds herself forgiving him and cursing him interchangeably a couple of times a day. 

She's astounded this is her life now, seemingly unable to talk herself out of decisions that pull her deeper into chaos.

-

A month later, Leigh becomes a distant memory. Following a series of tumultuous encounters, your life gradually returns to its normal rhythm—quiet, ordinary days filled with clinic work, attending to various cases, meeting new clients, and addressing the myriad issues of small animals. All of these tasks prove easier to deal with than anything involving Leigh Shaw.

The sole noteworthy event in your generally uneventful life lately was your latest visit to a physician for an annual physical exam. The blood tests revealed some numbers outside the normal range, notably elevated cholesterol levels. Consequently, your doctor advised you to integrate exercise into your daily regimen and to reduce your consumption of takeout meals, specifically pizza and Chinese fast food.

It’s a big sacrifice, considering your day usually flies by without much thought for food, except for dinner. It’s the one time in your day you actually look forward to. So, to hold onto that bit of happiness, you've been looking at fitness classes that are actually enjoyable and help burn those extra calories to keep you in shape.

Yoga stands out as the top choice for you, mainly because it all unfolds on a mat. You assume it'll demand the least amount of effort compared to the other options (specifically spinning), which all seem to promise nothing but pain and suffering.

Deciding to give yoga a shot, you choose Beautiful Beast, swayed by its stellar reviews. You secure a slot for a 6pm class, feeling pretty good about this decision.

That is, until Leigh Shaw walks into the said class, clad in a sports bra and tight-fitting leggings that highlight her toned legs. She’s busy on her phone, and without looking up, she walks to the front of the room. 

What are the chances you'd both be in the same class at the same fitness studio? The plot thickens when she pockets her phone and turns to face the class, gesturing for everyone to get their mats ready as the session's about to start.

You swallow hard. Leigh isn't here as a joiner—she's running it.

It takes about a quarter of the session for Leigh to notice you’re in her class. It's only while she's making her rounds, observing each student's camel pose, that her gaze finally lands on you. Struggling through your lack of core strength, you can't quite catch her initial reaction, but then she calls out your name. The surprise makes you gasp as she places her hand on the curve of your spine, just above the small of your back, and gently pushes you upward, deepening your arch. 

The stretch draws a grimace from you, but then she says, “Good, that's it,” and suddenly, you're determined not to let her down. You focus on the pose, on Leigh's instructions, and on not falling apart under her watchful eye. Leigh keeps everyone in the position a few moments longer than expected before instructing the class to transition into the child's pose for recovery. At her cue, your arms collapse, and you find yourself breathing heavily, grateful for the brief respite.

Something tells you it's not the high cholesterol that's going to be the end of you, but rather this yoga class and Leigh's merciless teaching style. 

-

You're all packed up and ready to leave, still reeling from what could easily be the toughest hour of your life, when someone calls out to you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

It's Leigh. Her tone is softer, more fatigued than you remember. She’s still in her gym clothes, looking like the workout barely touched her except for a few strands of hair sticking to her forehead. And somehow, she smells more like a rose garden than the gym floor.

“I didn’t know you work here—” you blurt out, almost apologizing. But before you can add anything else, Leigh just shakes her head, something like amusement in her smile, stopping you mid-sentence. Her smile, warm and a little teasing, eases some of the tension you didn't realize you were holding. 

“Are you a mind reader or something?” she teases. “Cause yeah, I was going to ask if you were following me.”

You’re quick to deny it. “I wasn’t.”

Leigh lets out a chuckle like she's getting a kick out of seeing you on edge. You shuffle your feet, still unsure if she’s trying to scare you off or welcome you to her tutelage.  

“Look, if it's weird for you, me being here... I can find another class,” you offer, the words tumbling out before you can think them through.

Her reaction is swift and a bit surprising, “Why would I want that? So you can duck out and be a rubbish yogi elsewhere and ruin my reputation?”

You’re taken aback by her response. Clearly, Leigh's not pushing you away; it's almost as if she's egging you on, daring you to stick it out. And if there's any hope of moving past this... whatever it is, leaving now because it might get awkward doesn't seem like the right move to make a fresh start.

“All right, I'll stay,” you find yourself saying, more to your surprise than hers. 

Leigh's got this look of triumph, chin lifted just so, when you agree to stick around. “See you at 5:30. Greenway Park,” she throws out casually.

You're there blinking, trying to piece together what she means. But before you can even get a word out, she's one step ahead. 

“We have to work on your endurance,” she clarifies. “Make sure you’re wearing real running shoes. No sneakers.”

[azaarchiive]

☆ blackout - tooru oikawa

note; a cute little fluffy one shot about a blackout in your neighbourhood and what you both do to pass that time ❤️. gn reader, use of petname (baby), suggestive jokes, you and oikawa are married, time skip oikawa, they are in argentina (this doesn’t add anything to the plot but it’s just fun to know). 999 words

in a blink of an eye, the house was engulfed in darkness. a shrill shriek from tooru echoed within the apartment you both shared.

“are you ok?” you yelled out to him, only to be met with no response.

you quickly obtained your phone, turned on your flashlight, and went on a manhunt for the man himself.

he wasn’t hard to find, as his tall figure was already coming out of the shower, only covered with a towel, still slightly soapy. a dejected look plastered on his perfect face as he tried to dry himself from his unsatisfying shower.

“well this sucks, you would think that since we pay a shit-ton of money to live here, we would at least have the ability to enjoy a shower.” tooru rolled his eyes as he whined childishly.

your eyes, however, were glued to his wet, muscular chest, illuminated by your flashlight from your phone. your initial worry washed away at this sight of his damp hair that stuck to his forehead and his body gleaming due to the water, enhancing every detail of his muscle.

“wow, so while we’re going through a crisis, all you can think about is sex?” tooru joked as he waved his hand in your clearly distracted face.

“um- actually, i was thinking of ways to keep us safe.” you lied, hiding your giggled through a bright smile.

“does it involve my naked body?” tooru took a couple steps closer towards you, wrapping his arms around you which, in result, dampened your clothes.

“tooru! your making me wet.” you complained, trying to push him off which was proving futile. this was the same guy that could lift twice your weight at the gym so you were definitely trapped.

“you are just begging for it, aren’t ya’ ?” tooru smirked as you got more flustered.

“tooru, we are in a crisis and all you can think off is sex? you are a terrible person.” you joked, mimicking what he said earlier as he finally let you free of his tight grip.

tooru laughed in response before sighing and looking around, remembering the situation they were currently in.

“well… what do we do?” tooru asked, leaning on the wall next to him.

“hm..” you put a finger on your chin as you thought of possible (family friendly) activities that you both could do.

“i have an idea!” you finally said after a beat of silence.

“ok, you get dressed quick and come downstairs as soon as you can!” you ushered tooru into the bedroom and slammed the door while giggling. you ran down the stairs to get started on your master plan.

tooru, on the other hand, was a little dazed from the sudden rushed conversation, but nonetheless, decided not to question it. tooru could tell you needed time to prepare so he took his time changing, trying desperately to ignore the clattering of many objects that echoed from downstairs to the bedroom. however, he had trust in you.

(maybe too much trust but his love for you would never allow him to say that)

before he could even register, he heard a call of his name from you. tooru finalised his comfy clothes with a pair of fuzzy socks that had your face printed on them, courtesy of his truly.

tooru soon left the bedroom and made his way downstairs, slowly stepping down the stairs whilst hearing your shuffling towards the bottom of the staircase.

“are you ready?” you asked him.

“are you going to kill me?” tooru replied, your figure soon coming into his field of vision as he almost finished travelling the flight of stairs.

“baby, if i wanted to kill you, i would’ve done it the night we married.” you explained.

“what the- why?! not to mention, that answer was way to quick for my liking.” tooru whined, soon coming face to face with you.

“the money, obviously. you were so obsessed with me that i don’t even think you would mind me stealing all your cash.” you wrapped your arms around him, a teasing smile dancing on your lips.

“i probably wouldn’t, unless you were going with another man. then i would just go batshit crazy.” tooru chuckled, moving forward to place a peck on your lips.

both your lips connected for only half a second, but it felt longer as you pulled away and stared into each others eyes. the maze with each others orbs that both have spent years learning and searching now feeling easy to navigate. the marriage you both had was easy to navigate because you both loved each other in ways no one could ever understand or imagine.

“what’s the surprise you had for me, hon’ ?” tooru asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

you stepped aside and watch him marvel at your work.

it was a pillow fort. candles were lit up everywhere which explained the random influx of a vanilla scent wafting through the apartment and random assortments of pillows and blankets were thrown to make a fort. a bowl of fruits were placed neatly on the desk table beside the fort and contained a variety of different fruits, all tooru’s favourite.

“fuck, how the hell did you do this in such a short amount of time?” tooru questioned, staring amazed at the highly illuminated living room.

“i don’t know, just got them skills, you know?” you laughed.

“well, it’s beautiful princess. come, we need to go in there, now!” tooru dragged you towards the fort, giggling as you both snuggled into the pillow fort.

“now that i’m thinking about it, this probably isn’t safe.” tooru raised his eyebrow.

“you’re such a loser, like just have fun you party pooper.” you jokingly rolled your eyes.

“oh fuck me for wanting to live.” tooru laid back on the ground, you shortly followed him and laid down right in his chest whilst he put his arm around you.

“yeah, you’re ruining my master plan to kill you and steal your money.” you giggled.

“oh i apologise, next time i’ll abide by the plan and die gracefully.” tooru dramatically responded, to which you responded in a sweets smile.

you’re so happy you married him.

[confessionsofkotlc]

To the person who asked why Keefe is complex, I thought I’d try to give my two cents on the matter.

Also it’s totally fine if you dislike Keefe! He’s just complex, is all. You can dislike him anyway, this is soley about why I think he is a complex character. Not an attempt to sway you to like him or anything!

He’s introduced pretty early as though he’s going to be a silly, funny, flirty side character, and a lot of that falls away as the series goes on. He’s always had avoidant defense mechanisms, which used to look like deflecting with humor and as his trauma worsens turns into a lot of literal running away. We learn in book one that he has really bad parents and it’s like oh, okay, so he has a hard childhood and covers for it with humor. Pretty classic way to round a character out, but it works. Sure. But he wasn’t too complex THEN.

I think the way finding out his mother was with the neverseen impacted him was far worse than the fandom gives it credit for. It was a huge turning point in his life. He breaks down more. He can’t keep up his defenses as much.

Did you hear that? He can’t keep up his defenses as much. Deflecting isn’t working.

And then, at the end of Neverseen, he literally runs away.

Direct correlation.

He goes to be a “double agent” and hopefully be able to help his friends from the inside. But really… he wants to do something useful without having to face his friends. He’s avoiding. He’s running.

The reveal of his mother being with the neverseen was also more than figuring out his parent was a villain, which is bad enough. He also learned that the parent who had always been slightly better, slightly kinder, slightly more caring was actually the evil one. It isn’t talked about nearly enough the amount of trust issues he must have gotten from that. It also adds an extra layer to every time he’s betrayed a friend’s trust or told a lie. He doesn’t think it’s right, but a part of him is still processing what happened with his mother.

He searches through his memories like crazy. He wondered how he, an empath, managed to miss that his mother was evil. He questions everything the knows. How does he know if someone is lying? He doesn’t. He doesn’t know if someone is lying. He lies. He lies and lies and lies.

He holds on to every scrap of paper with every detail he’s ever remembered about his childhood and his mother and questions everything. This is actually a huge part of what makes his character complex, since that’s the question—the way he clings to every. Single. Detail. Because he’s NOT just avoidant, he’s also unable to let go, and somehow he is absolutely both at the same time.

Constantly running from the painful things he clutches close to his chest.

That sentence alone might actually explain what makes him complex, but I’m going to go further.

I think his execution of research and ideas and reckless plans without telling his friends, betraying them and lying to them, is both a product of the fact that he’s never considered himself someone who gets listened to seriously and the fact that he’s still processing his mother’s betrayal. (Let’s not gloss over that. He’s still grieving from that.)

“Are you afraid of me, Foster?” It isn’t a question. It’s a realization. In this moment he realizes what he’s really done. He has flashbacks to the mountain, to finding out about his mother, and he wonders if too much of her is in his blood. Of course he rushes to explain his double agent scheme, but he’s in pretty deep and this isn’t going to be his last betrayal. The scene where he steals the alluveterre crystal and Alvar might be his worst betrayal. But there’s so much behind it.

So many complexities.

So many underlying thoughts, some of which I don’t think he’s even aware of.

He’s trying and he knows he’s wrong but he does it anyway and focuses on everything right about the wrong.

Being literally, physically changed by his mother so that he has new abilities that could actually hurt people is another huge turning point. Now it isn’t, “are you afraid of me, Foster?” It’s “you should be afraid of me, Foster.” All pretense of laughter and humor and jokes is gone. The Leo Valdez side has evaporated.

If he was worried that too much of his mother was in his blood before, well, he’s definitely worried about it now. Because she changed him and he hates it and he’s afraid of himself.

He’s afraid of himself and he’s afraid for his friends (because even amongst all of this he cares, he loves his friends and he specifically loves Sophie) and his deflection is once again entirely gone and he does the thing we should have all seen coming.

He runs away.

But I think unraveled will show us that once again, even in running away, he can’t let go of the things he wants to leave behind. They stick to him and he takes them everywhere he goes.

In unlocked he writes in his journal that Sophie deserves someone like Fitz. He hates himself for having betrayed her and having made her lose faith in the good of the world. He loves her enough that even when he wants her to be with him, when he believes she’ll be happier with his friend, he wants that for her.

(He can hardly believe it when Sophie chooses him. “I don’t want to mess this up,” he says. “Please don’t let me mess this up.” He knows he’s a mess. He’s worried he’s too much of a mess to preserve the one thing he’s always wanted.)

And even in the end of Stellarlune, he takes the knife from Sophie to attack his mother, without telling her. In that moment I wonder if he was even thinking about his own stupid bad patterns, or if he was so determined to end things with his mother that he didn’t even consider that in some small way, he was sort of doing just the sort of thing he swore to himself he’d stop doing.

So what makes Keefe a complex character?

The way he cares so impossibly deeply for his friends while also doing things he knows will hurt them and feeling in his mind like maybe he can’t even stop it, maybe he’s just a mess that can’t be fixed and the best thing he can do for his friends is never see them again—

The way he runs, avoids, escapes, NEVER confronts his issues, but also is never able to leave them behind, dragging them with him wherever he runs, every single detail running through his head—

The way he’ll never say it out loud, but some part of him is worried he’s too much like his mother, wishing she’d get her hands off his life and stop changing him before he can’t deny it anymore—

The way his bad habits mirror each other even as he changes and develops as a character—

It’s not just his trauma and his coping mechanisms, or his feelings for Sophie and his friends. It’s the layers upon layers in his character, thick as shadowflux and so buried that even Keefe doesn’t know about some of them. (Even I can’t articulate them all. I’m able to really get into a state of feeling his character but these are the only things I’m able to get into words.)

This is about as much of his complexities as I can explain using actual words in the English language and not just transferring emotions. To the anon who was wondering how he’s complex, I hope this helps!

[jesuisici33]

Fuck It Friday

tagged by @steadfastsaturnsrings @daffi-990 @hippolotamus @wikiangela @honestlydarkprincess @jamespearce9-1-1 some more of my you have my heart fic feat. the lawsuit arc!

The heart is bleeding. 

Buck checks the heart every day. He still hasn’t gotten a proper shelf to place it on display in his loft. As much as he would like to, he doesn’t want to become attached to the heart – doesn’t want to get his hopes up that the heart is really his to keep. That doesn’t mean he still doesn’t try to still take care of it as much as he can in the shoebox he has it in.

The only people he’s told about the heart besides Eddie are Maddie and Chimney. Only because being in the medical field, they would know how best to take care of the heart in case anything goes wrong. Also when Chimney first received Maddie’s heart, he came to Buck freaking out asking him what could’ve happened to it. Maddie didn’t mean to give Chimney her heart. It stayed at Chimney’s apartment after one of their not-dates. Both Chimney and Buck were shocked at the state of it. All scarred and almost cold to the touch. It took Chimney so long to get it back to the glorious, and glowing state it is now. The scars will forever be on the heart, but Chimney’s love for her helped repair it.

And, now the heart Buck has is bleeding. So now’s the perfect time to call any of them to help him figure out how to fix it. Buck reaches for his phone and calls the last person he talked to: Eddie. It rings two times before he hears the honestly not so familiar voice message. Grabbing some paper towels to help stop the bleeding, he tries Eddie again, only to get the same thing. That’s weird. Buck knows that Eddie almost always picks up when he knows Buck is calling him. Add to the fact that Buck also knows Eddie’s phone rings longer than two times, that can only mean that Eddie is purposely ignoring him. 

Knowing he doesn’t have time to dwell on this fact, Buck tries Chimney. Luckily he answers on the first ring.

“Either you’re very brave or very stupid for calling. Probably both knowing you,” is what Buck gets instead of a hello.

Shit. The lawsuit. Buck forgot that the details of it are supposed to go out today. That’s why Eddie didn’t pick up the phone. He’s not supposed to talk to anyone at the 118 and vice versa. He completely forgot in his panic. 

“Chimney – I need your help.” There’s a sarcastic hum on the other end of the line. “The heart is bleeding and I don’t know how to stop it.” The towels aren’t helping. No matter how hard he presses, blood keeps pouring out and staining it. Staining Buck’s hands.

A sigh enters his ears. “You broke it. You have to find the person and apologize for what you did.” Chimney snorts, remembering that Buck doesn’t know who the heart belongs to. “Kind of a Catch-22, huh?”

Buck shoves the shoebox away from him in frustration. He can see the cut in the heart where he broke it clearly now. The blood is slowly ceasing. As if the owner of the heart is forcing themselves to stop feeling the heartache. 

“Shouldn’t it be in half if I broke it?” Buck asks.

“No. Not unless you want to kill the person. It’s the cuts on hearts that do the real damage.”

Buck wipes his hand across his face, a low frustrated sound coming out of him. “I don’t know what I did.”

Chimney is silent for a few moments. “Yeah, me neither.” He hangs up without another word.

tagging @malewifediaz @911-on-abc @eddiebabygirldiaz @monsterrae1 @loserdiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @giddyupbuck @rmd-writes @wandering-night19 @carlos-in-glasses @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @alrightbuckaroo @eowon @pirrusstuff @your-catfish-friend @apothecarose @mammameesh @bonheur-cafe @liminalmemories21

[thelordofgifs]

Happy Tumblr Milestone Saturday, congrats!!!

If you're up for a fic prompt, any thoughts on Maedhros playing a musical instrument?

Yikes so sorry this took three months to get to! Thank you for the prompt friend <3

-

“I think,” says Maedhros, “I should learn to play the harp.”

Maglor stops what he is doing and stares at him. “Nelyo.”

“What?” Maedhros says mildly. “It is a key part of my own history.”

Maglor’s face twists in distress. He turns his gaze back to his work, organising the little bottles of medicines and salves on the table.

“The fiddle, otherwise,” Maedhros suggests. “Or the flute?”

Maglor makes a small, unhappy sound, quickly stifled. That is not what Maedhros wanted. There were few memories he dared cling to, in Angband, scared that in turning them over too often he would rub away the details, or else that they would be snatched perforce from his mind; but he does remember the clear bright sound of Maglor’s laugh, which rang so often and easily through the streets of Tirion. He has not heard it once since his return.

Hard enough to realise he does not know himself any longer – but to find his little brother a stranger is nigh unbearable.

“I was joking, Káno,” he says. “I know I cannot play with only one hand.”

“Oh,” says Maglor. He smiles bravely, although his eyes are wet. “I knew that.”

“Come and sit,” Maedhros says, and then flinches – it sounds like an order, and what right has he to give orders?

But Maglor sets aside his fidgeting and sits down in the chair next to Maedhros’ bed. He always balances the distance perfectly, close enough for Maedhros to see him without straining his neck, far enough away that the proximity does not frighten him. Today, however, Maedhros wants his brother near. He reaches out to take Maglor’s hand in his.

“I miss you,” he says, and then, “I miss me.”

“I know, Nelyo,” Maglor breathes.

“Shall it never again be as it was?” Maedhros asks.

“I think not,” says Maglor, “and yet—” He swallows. “I am glad that you are back, Nelyo.” His eyes bleed apologies.

“Sometimes,” Maedhros says dreamily, “I think I am still there, and it was only some facsimile of me that Thorondor bore back.” Maglor takes a breath and Maedhros adds, “I know that it is not true. My old self was lost long before Finno came.”

“Nelyo,” Maglor says miserably.

“Now I have upset you,” Maedhros says. Tentatively, he lifts his hand to Maglor’s cheek, and Maglor does not flinch in disgust from his touch. “And I only wanted to make you laugh.”

Maglor smiles wryly. “Laughter is in rather short supply, these days,” he says.

Maedhros has known that to be true for himself. But he did not think—

"Is the world so changed?" he asks. "Are you so changed, dearest?"

Maglor lowers his gaze. He looks rather ashamed.

"I should not have left you," Maedhros murmurs.

Maglor meets his eyes again, startled. "How you can say that!" he says. "When I—"

Maedhros touches his cheek again. "All the same," he says, "it has been hard for you."

"Nelyo, that is absurd," Maglor says. "You cannot possibly blame yourself that I grieved you – and while you were living all the time!" He smiles again, bitterly.

Was I? thinks Maedhros. But aloud he says, "Káno, I – I barely recognise anything of myself. May I not – at the very least – remain your elder brother?"

"You are always that," Maglor says, blinking away his tears.

"Then come here," says Maedhros, and he pulls Maglor into a hug, and does not shudder to feel his body so close; so there is still this. And if Maglor is a stranger to him now he still lays his head on Maedhros' good shoulder as he used to when he was very small, and they sit that way for a while.

It cannot last forever – Maedhros is too weak to sit upright for long. Eventually, Maglor lowers him carefully down onto his pillows and fetches the evening round of medicines, and once again he becomes the carer and Maedhros the patient. He is still very gentle, as he coaxes the bitter concoctions into Maedhros, and changes the dressings on his wrist. So perhaps the world is not so changed.

***

The next morning, Maglor is carrying his harp when he comes into the tent. He looks pensive, but not unhappy, and he smiles to see Maedhros awake.

"Have you come to play for me?" Maedhros asks.

"Yes, if you would like me to," says Maglor; "but first I thought you could try playing it yourself, if you want to."

Maedhros blinks at him. "Káno, I only have one hand."

"I can teach you some simple melodies," says Maglor, and then he looks uncertain. "But we don't have to – if you would rather I played instead—"

"I'd like you to teach me," Maedhros says gently. (That was interrupting – they will punish him for speaking out of turn – no, it is Maglor, it is Maglor who loves him. Maedhros knows that.)

Maglor brings the harp over to the bed and sits down beside it. He reaches for Maedhros’ hand. “May I?” And when Maedhros nods, he places Maedhros’ fingers on the harp, and teaches him the name of each string in turn.

It turns out to be possible to pluck out a simple little melody on the harp, even with Maedhros’ numb and clumsy fingers. Eventually, Maglor stops guiding his hand and accompanies him instead, smiling encouragingly as he does so; and the sound of the music is very sweet. And when Maedhros deliberately botches the tune, moving his fingers quickly across the strings in a rapid, messy glissando, Maglor's laugh is sweeter yet.

[marchy-emmet]

Pokémon White - The Battle Subway's Void

MARCHY... WRITING?!?!! Pppffff, aside from that... I wanted to write a little one-shot thingie in creepypasta format to explain in a lil' more detail what glitchy Submas are about. No gore or anything, only madness!! Without further ado, let us dive into this shitstorm...

And as a note: The player's opinion of Submas does not reflect my own, lol.

----

So… here’s the deal. I’m going to jump right into it – no sugarcoating whatsoever.

I’ve been an avid Pokemon fan for my entire life – way down from childhood and up till now, even as a broke unemployed college student. Generation 5 had always been my favorite, and though the attractions in Nimbasa City aren’t particularly pleasing to me, there was one place that had caught my attention – Nimbasa Gear Station.

Now, I am no rookie player… I’ve been through this subway time after time again – my favorite being the singles lines due to how quickly you can farm BP. And the doubles line was slower but gave you the same amount of BP, so what was the point? My copy of White was maxed out in money and time. No need to add more grueling tasks.

… Well, enough yapping for now – I don’t have much time, anyway. Let’s, once again, jump right into it.

Just a few nights ago, I had made my rounds with the battle subway again – but this time, I decided on choosing the multi lines. I’ve got barely any friends who play, so I ended up playing this with the NPC Hilda in the comfort of my own dorm room… If only I could play with sentient beings, I thought sarcastically to myself – no one being around and all…

It was unsurprisingly a typical, boring and usual sweep of the battle subway. A timid Hydreigon with max EVs in special attack and speed with dark pulse, flamethrower, surf and dragon pulse had done the trick. Way too easy!! We had a bit of trouble with a few NPCs here and there, but it was nothing terribly difficult.

Then came, of course, Ingo and Emmet with their usual cone stance. I never understood the hype around these two random NPCs… Sure, strange design and all – but what’s the deal?

With me already having dull feelings about the subway masters and their undeserved hype, the experience I was about to have this very night would ruin their image forever.

Aaaand the game crashes. What the fuck??!?! All of that hard work of grinding in the battle subway while mashing A had gone to waste. I am gonna fucking lose it… I thought. The only logical thing to do was to man up and suck it up and redo the entire thing over. So I rebooted the game, muttering profanities under my breath and waiting impatiently for the title screen to appear.

And it didn’t. At this moment, I thought, okay, obviously the game is fake. What is this shit? Perhaps I was a bit too irritable for no one’s good, because as soon as I had restarted it again, the title screen actually showed up with a bit of lag. But still… Something was off. Lag is a telltale sign of a fake game, right?

This thing’s cartridge was used, after all. I had no idea what the previous player had done to the game… In the back of my mind, I had hoped all my save data hadn’t been deleted. Fuck.

I eagerly waited for the game to boot fully and take me back to Gear Station as I hit the save file, but the performance of the virtual world only got lower and lower, steadily dragging itself back to where my character was standing. As per usual when you “quit” a subway battle, the employee was facing me in preparation to scold me.

… But he didn’t. He just stood there. And at this point I thought the game had frozen.

My heart kept beating fast as I frantically thought up plans of what to do with my save file. Transferring all of my work to another file was an option – but I didn’t have another DS or any friends who did. Again, fuck. At this point there’s no use in searching for resources online to find out if it was fake – it definitely was.

I took a deep breath and looked away from the screen for a moment as I hoped and prayed that the game would cooperate with me. The Gear Station theme was still playing, after all…

A few minutes later, and I simply gave up, rebooting the game yet again. And again, I experienced the laggy bootup screen and the strange pause at the employee. I dropped my DS, putting my hands in my face and releasing the most frustrated sigh to grace the earth.

This is when I suddenly heard an 8 bit screeching sound that had scared me shitless. I jumped up, removing my hands from my face and widening my eyes at the screen. Nothing was out of the ordinary, but the grating sound… ugh.

I reached for the DS’s power button and tried to turn it off – but to no avail. Okay, then let’s try holding it down for 10 seconds… Nope. Pressing all the buttons? Futile. Button combinations? Nada. And so I turn to Google – my attention now directed at my laptop screen – a terrible mistake, really.

After a few unhelpful searches, I turn back to my DS screen and jolt.

It was back where I was with Ingo and Emmet, but the background had gone completely black. How…? How was this even possible? At this point, I even considered that I had picked up a rom hack!

So, with all of the textures lost, I had of course entertained the idea that I was in generation 5’s “void” – similar to gen 4’s “void glitch” where you could catch Shaymin and Darkrai via the exploit. But I knew the walls of the battle subway were probably still around, and the only way of getting out would’ve been through the subway doors.

After a few moments of cautious reconsideration, I moved my fingers to the DS button’s arrows and pressed to go left. To my surprise, my character was actually able to roam around the void around Hilda, Ingo and Emmet!

Curiously, I approached Ingo and mashed the A button, attempting to speak to him. For a moment, this seemed to have frozen my game, until a text box popped up…

“What can I see after winning, winning, and winning? … Nothing – not without this fellow standing beside me.”

Huh. I had vaguely remembered the first half of this line from Ingo, but not the second half. At this point I was definitely convinced I had received some sort of fucked up rom hack in the real White’s disguise.

I spoke to Emmet, and his text box lagged similarly before he stated, “I am Emmet. I am a subway boss. And I am verrry angry. Too angry.”

When I spoke to Hilda, her text box was blank. No ellipsis or anything.

I… didn’t particularly enjoy the expressions the subway masters’ pixelated little faces were making. Dead, cold and glaring. But I had figured that’s how they always looked. Something was definitely going astray with their colors, because the more I stared, the bluer Emmet got, and the redder Ingo got. Their sprites were progressively getting freakier and freakier. What kind of fucked individual sat down and made this hack?

This is the part where a battle suddenly started without my knowledge or consent, despite my character standing far from their usual battle position. Uh… Okay then.

Subway masters Ingo and Emmet got into their usual battle position, backs turned before pointing… straight at me, as the player. This wasn’t quite right, I thought to myself, as I had remembered them pointing in opposite directions prior to this weird interaction. I did get a closer look at them, and their appearance was ever-changing.

They left the screen, and as per usual, Haxorus and Archeops were sent out first… Nothing was at all wrong with the sprites – except their eyes were missing? That and the fact that the battle’s background was white. A few blocky particles of what I call “glitch” were floating around the screen erratically. I also couldn’t help but to notice the Pokemon’s sprites weren’t animated.

I had a horrible pit in my stomach as my intuition was begging me to listen… But I persisted in thinking this was merely a twisted rom hack. The Pokemon still weren’t moving, and the screen was still struggling to load in the background with chunks of “glitch”. Colored particles were everywhere.

More possibilities floated through my mind… Was my DS broken? Was the cartridge dropped in water? Whatever the case might’a been, this was the most terrifying experience I ever had in a Pokemon game.

Unable to send my Pokemon out, I set the DS down and clutched my stomach a little, beginning to feel nauseous. My fingers tightened, rendering them paralyzed. I felt my whole body vibrate as I became deathly ill… Wasn’t quite sure why. There’s no way I was panicking so much over a video game.

As I stood up, I felt the room spin, so I sat back down. A distorted groan rang from the DS as Ingo’s sprite appeared back on screen, in the same pointing position.

His text box read, “The system cannot be shut off at this time. However, you could always offer reconciliation.”

Reconciliation? What the fuck was he on?

As Ingo’s distorted sprite faded out, Emmet’s appeared next – but he had black splotchy markings all over his body and face. I felt my heart beat faster again, and my breathing hastened as his text box popped up. It remained blank for a few seconds as Emmet’s round, soul-piercing eye revealed itself through his face’s shadow.

At this point I tried to shut the game off again by holding down the power button, but it was no use. Not even removing the cartridge stopped it.

“Do not try to turn the game off. Do not try to save the game. You cannot.”

How… How did he just break reality? I knew the funny business was over. This is real.

Ingo appeared again next to his Haxorus, who was melting into a glitchy mass. He began to speak again, his sprite’s eyes appearing in his face’s shadow. “I knew my partners wouldn’t make it through this – but I must protect what’s left. Why wouldn’t you play the multi lines for such a staggering duration of time, player?”

“I just did!!” I yelled back out loud, absolutely bewildered and jittery. I wasn’t even sure if responding to him would warrant a response, but…

Emmet’s Archeops began melting into a glitchy mass next as his sprite approached closer. Any light that was left in his eyes had died when he noticed his Pokemon partner was succumbing to the supposed reality break I was witnessing. His smile dropped for the first time. I’m pretty sure I had never seen that twin frown up until then.

“I am Emmet. This world is too limited. And I will break free. What you did was verrrry rude, player.”

“What did I do?!” I shouted back, feeling tears well up in my eyes. Not tears of regret or guilt, no – tears of confusion. Panic. My head was spinning at this point, and I had wondered if I was experiencing psychotic derealization. Something like this is much too bizarre to be real.

Another text box appeared as Ingo gestured to Emmet, Archeops and Haxorus. “Intentional separation is a sin that cannot be forgiven. Excuse me for repeating myself – but it would be kind of you to ask for reconciliation. I’m not sure how Emmet feels.”

I stared at my screen, my voice hoarse as I responded, “I… I’m not the one you’re looking for.”

I felt ridiculous responding to a video game character, but in my derealized mind this was logical at the time.

“Do not lie,” Emmet began, his sprite becoming increasingly glitchy, “I do not like liars. I do not entertain liars.”

I refused to press A past this point, instead reflecting on what could be happening. Are they feeling something? Is that why Haxorus and Archeops had died – due to a fatal game error?

“I’m sorry,” I say without really thinking, my thoughts racing with contemplating fear.

And Emmet responded again without me hitting A. “You said you are not the one. I do not like liars.” His sprite became bitter again, vibrating against the glitchy masses that were surrounding the twins and broken Pokemon.

I once again took a deep breath in complete disbelief, shutting the DS and dropping it harshly. I sobbed into my hands, unable to make out what I thought of this. Do I need psychiatric help? Was it real?

I felt as if something horrible was going to happen – as if these characters wanted revenge on me. And the game was still playing despite the fact that I had closed it.

Five minutes past as I rocked myself and wept, occasionally glancing over at the DS and putting destruction of the system into consideration. But before I could even formulate the plan, I noticed the DS was… vibrating. This just sent me back into the spiral of sobbing into my hands, but I kept my eyes locked steadily onto the DS. I knew a DS was not supposed to vibrate.

And then came what I can only refer to as a hallucination…

Something was pushing the DS’s screen back up – a finger covered by a black glove. The surrounding area erupted into glitchy fragments, and the gaming system was practically breaking itself and making crackling sounds as the plastic warped. Welp, guess my plan to destroy it was no longer needed.

Without a second thought I let out the loudest shriek I could ever release – and I had sworn the entire complex had heard it. Stood up and ran without hesitation. Not even going to stay to observe the scenery.

I made my way out of the dorms, speeding down the halls and immediately causing a scene. Everyone I passed just stood there, bewildered by my behavior. I was too scared out of my wits to even warn anyone.

I made my way out of the building and down the street, panting heavily and feeling my whole body cake in sweat. Pure fight or flight instinct. I knew then that someone wanted my head on a silver platter – video game character or not.

Eventually I was at my friend’s house, frantically knocking on their door… It isn’t my intent to bring danger towards them or their family, but it’s my only option at the moment. No way I’m staying back at that cursed dorm.

Explaining such a situation to my friend was uncomfortable, but they were concerned for my mental health and well being. And of course, they didn’t seem to believe my story, either… No one did. Everyone I texted, voice chatted with, and told in person always asked if I was joking, or if I needed some sort of help.

It’s been a couple of days since the incident, and I’ve missed plenty of classes – but they’re my last concern. Whether or not I come to find out if that thing was real, I need to hide for my own sake.

And I hope someone runs across this as a tale of caution (unironically, the reason I’m writing it). If you’re sold a game that’s advertised as real, and something strange begins to happen… don’t delve in further.

… Or you may end up like me – alone, just as the subway masters were. And possibly still being tracked down as I write.

[reverseflashes]

Hello!

I’m trying to write a story or at least a short one. Where Constantine and Raven cross paths with the Rogues. I have a pretty good idea for it but even though I’ve read comics. I still don’t fully understand them I need an idea about there personality and fighting style. I’m hoping that with your help and a few other Rogue fans. I can get a better idea. Cause finding proper information is like finding a needle in a haystack for them. Constantine is literally the easiest out of all of them.😭

I really hope for good information. I want to do right by them.🥺

Anyway my chosen Rogue’s are… Captain Cold, Heatwave, Mirror Master, Weather Wizard, Captain Boomerang and Trickster (Axel Walker).

Basically the ones in comics right now.

P.S. I’m also mad about Owen. He had so much potential.

Every time I checked my inbox and saw this meage on top, I reminded myself to answer it some time the same day. And every time, I forgot. I don't even know where to begin to apologize, nonnie, especially it's been exactly a month since you've sent me this. I hope, if you are still around, and if you see this, you can forgive me. And if you are pissed at me, then you are completely right too I'M SO SORRY I SWEAR

To be honest, I can read every issue every Rogues member has ever appeared in (and for some members, I did lol) and still would not be good at answering questions like this. I'll tag few blogs I know post about the Rogues at the end of my response and tag this properly so that more people will see it and hopefully share their opinions as well. :)

I apologize in advance if this is very scattered, all over the place but I've never been very good at explaining stuff like this so... yeah.

I'm assuming the fight takes between John&Raven and the Rogues.

The Rogues are Flash's villains. And Flash has superspeed; and having superspeed comes with infinite amount of skills and abilities. There is really nothing a speedster can't do. So how does the Rogues, a bunch of non-powered criminals (except for Mark, if we want to go into a bit detail lol) with only their gadgets and costumes keep up with him? How can a speedster like Barry Allen can struggle against the Rogues sometimes?

The answer is that the Rogues have the advantage of planning their heists in advance. Excessive planning, may I add! Rogues don't have to keep up with Flash's whereabouts, because Flash will always go where the Rogues exactly want him. But the Flash doesn't have the advantage of always anticipating the Rogues' next move. There are so many other reasons of course but no need to go into more details. So, in your story, whether the Rogues plans the fight with John and Raven ahead or if it occurs completely spontaneous, I believe the Rogues wouldn't be caught off guard. I mean, they fight speedsters on a weekly basis, so it is hard for them to get intimitated by anyone else.

Now another thing, and I don't know if it's just me or if it is a fandom thing, but I always got the impression that Rogues hate magic. Like I always believed that to be a fact. They don't like it at all. Maybe "superpowers" is what they really don't like but I guess, to them, it's all the same.

Len in The Flash #750

Rogues don't want to get involved in anything that is above their paygrade. They hate their plans getting out of control and things getting messy and magic IS messy, that is an understatement. So you can use this in the story; they will fight John and Raven if they have to, but they won't care about winning. Of course, they CAN win the fight, but if you use the canon fact that the Rogues never faced John and Raven before in your story, then I assume winning wouldn't be their priority. They'll buy themselves time while putting the capes through their paces (damn right 😎).

You can focus on the Rogues' gadgets as well. In my personal opinion, Mirror Gun is the most powerful and dangerous out of all of them: it can open portals, it can create duplicates, it can fire bolts of light energy, IT CAN HYPNOTIZE AND MIND CONTROL PEOPLE, it can be used to transmute objects into glass, it can be used for dimensional travel, it can trap people inside those mirror dimensions etc... (SOURCES: here and here)

Here is a panel of Sam blinding Wonder Woman with his Mirror Gun. Justice League America #158

I put this panel especially because Wonder Woman is heavily affiliated with magic.

You can find more info on their gadgets on the internet, and if you'd like, I can look into it and send you some links if I can find anything.

I was gonna mention Hartley and his flute too but I realized that he isn't in the Rogues in your story so I'll skip that.

And lastly, I'd recommend you read New Year's Evil: Rogues, a one-shot where the Rogues are in the land of Zhutan searching for a powerful sun disk of Meshta (the creator god of the Saravistraism- DC’s version of Zoroastrianism) to make their souls eternally free from Neron (DC’s version of Satan). It involves heavy supernatural themes so maybe it helps.

Also, Teen Titans: Cold Case might be a good read. There is a fight between Teen Titans and the Rogues and although magic isn't in the center, Rogues fight against members Cyborg, Red Devil and Wonder Girl (Cassie). (And Vic and Tim actually admit that they couldn't take the Rogues!)

And most importantly, they fight as a TEAM and a FAMILY. Their diverse skills and abilities complete each other, thanks years of working and planning and fighting together side by side.

Soooo yeah. I'm pretty sure I forgot half the things I was gonna add and forty thousand anecdotes but that's why I'll tag some of the awesome people in the Rogues fandom underneath this so that they can add their own opinions as well. If they want, of course, no pressure! Please feel free to ignore this.

Thank you so very very very much for your message nonnie. And I'm so so so very sorry for taking so long to answer it. I hope I made it up to you a little.

@gorogues @tricksterrune @t-bombs @longitudinalwaveme @belphegor1982 @saltywithsarcasm @smartshipfriday my brain is all over the place rn i can't think of anyone else but if you see this in the search or on your dash pls feel free to reblog it and share your opinions <33

[ja3hwa]

Harmless | San

「Synopsis」 : A mysterious plant catches your eye, but what happens when the useless plant becomes not so useless...How would react to their bunmy hybrid mate getting hurt? [A mini series]

「Word count」 : 1.02k

-> Genre: Suggestive, Fluff, Fantasy

Paring: Wolf!San x Hybrid!Reader

[Warnings] : Sex pollen, suggestive, swearing, reader goes crazy for San. If I missed anything let me know.

For other members click -> Here

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

[This can be read as a stand alone]

Working long hours in your greenhouse was something you enjoyed. Even though to others it might have seemed like a chore, making healing agents, potions, or writing your studies down on any and all new plants you discover. The wolves envy your hard work and only wished for your stamina. The brothers would make jokes questioning if you were truly a rabbit given you don't have the want for long sleep or laziness. But then again, a lazy nap session with San was one of your favourite things to do. You fitted in, in other words. You could go out on patrols with some of the boys, gathering supplies without the worry of slowing them down. You were useful, and everyone enjoyed having your fuzzy kind company.

You have been stuck in yet another project, studying a new plant that was recently discovered on the outskirts of the pack grounds. It was a bright purple flower on red-ish pink vines, the leaves have small detailing of blue mixing in the purple. You haven't seen a plant like this in all your years of study. A lot of the members were worried it could be poisonous but through hours and hours of testing nothing toxic seemed to be showing. You were stumped, confused about what the plant's purpose would be. But as you sat at your desk with the plant sitting on the large dark oak table that hugs the wall in the corner of the room, you rub your temples feeling a sense of frustration.

You let out a big huff standing up with a loud scratch of your wooden chair sliding against the floor. If you weren't going to be able to find out its purpose, maybe giving it a purpose will help you feel less annoyed at the mystery plant.

Grabbing some beakers, your knife kit and various other sharp and pinching tools that would make any outsider think you were about to perform surgery on the plant. But in truth it was a form of surgery, you wanted some of the content of the plant to work on without actually hurting or killing the plant. So if someone said you were performing surgery, they wouldn't be wrong. Picking up a scalpel and tweezers, you carefully cut one of anther's off the filament. You hold your breath as you place the anther —making sure not to lose any of the pollen that is stuck to it— on the small tray you prepared.

You grab some herbs and other ingredients for a very basic calming potion. Maybe the flower can bring a weakening agent or even a fatigue spell. You pour, cut and throw different leaves, and spices into the small pot, letting it start to brew. The liquor starts to turn its normal blueish colour with the smell of fresh grass and lilies filling your nose. You pick up the pollen slowly with the tweezers, dropping it into the concoction.

"Nothing!?" You started at the pot in disbelief, normally when you add a new ingredient there would be a change almost immediately. Leaning closer to the potion you inhale the smell to see if the scent changed and even that was still the same. Maybe the flower was indeed useless, and it was nothing but a harmless little flowe—

"Fuck!!" You swear at a blast of bright purple smoke spraying straight into your face, invading your senses within seconds. You cough out, closing your eyes, rubbing the left one while placing the lid on the pot, sealing the smoke from spilling out even more.

"Well, I guess you're not useless." You take a sharp inhale as your voice was croaky from the vaper. You stand up to fetch your logbook from your desk but as your feet hit the ground you felt a sudden shiver cores through you. Your legs become jelly, and your vision blurs slightly, but not enough that you cant see. A weird feeling overwhelms your system. It was almost like the feeling of a heat, but much, much worse.

You try to shake the feeling, leaning against the desk, almost gasping for air. You look around the room, searching for something, anything. At this point, you have no clue what you're searching for. You bring your hand up to your face and an audible shock echoes in the greenhouse. Veins of purple scatter all over your hands and up your arms. Looking down you spot them peaking out of the cuffs of your pants. You were covered in them.

"Sweetheart are you okay I heard screamin—Y/N! Oh my god!" San stops mid-sentence, running over to you. His eyes scan with worry, you were covered in strange veins. Your eyes tinted purple with the white of your eyes bloodshot. You stare at him desperately, with eyes that he would only be able to call 'bedroom eyes'.

"San, Help me." You plea, rubbing your thighs tightly together, leaning into his touch as his hand snakes around your waist. You felt like a wild animal, lost in primal instinct. Your fingers claw at his clothes as tears began to run down your cheeks. "Please Sannie, it hurts so bad."

"What hurts baby, tell me what's wrong. What happened?" He held you closer, drawing circles into your hips, which made you crave his touch more.

"The-The flower. It's a lascivious toxin." You practically moan out, leaning back so San's body and the table would trap you. You feel so hot, sweat beading down your forehead. He looks at your with confusion, feeling himself grow with worry and lust. He can smell you dripping, but he shakes the thought, trying to make sure you are okay first.

"W-what does that mean Sweets?" He asks, bringing his hand up to hold the back of your neck.

"Argh, It's a toxin that makes you horny San!!" You look at him dead in the eyes, frustration taking over. "It makes you very..." You grind your hips against his. "Very..." You do it again. "Very horny..."

"Oh..." I mean at least you are not actually in pain... Well the bad kind anyway.

-

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[unhappytimeleaper]

Hello, may I request Q, T, and Y with Kuro x reader? Thank you and have a wonderful day. 💟

requested by anonymous

Word Count: 3,150+

I love Kuro. It was a while ago on a chat, but I realized I kinda have a type for delinquents. Oops. This mainly doesn’t go too much into the actions that make him a yan, I do touch on it occasionally or try to slip some of it in there, but I didn’t want to get too off-topic from the letters which meant I had to leave a lot of it out. Also, I wrote half of this 7 months ago and the rest today, so I’m sorry if it’s a little disjointed.

Also, I finally gave in and watched up to part 5 of Jojo, and I have… feelings. My poor friends are being subjected to all of them,, and someone should come to save them. TLDR for those curious, but I did not care for part 3, parts 1 & 2 were decent, I love part 4, from the art style to the characters, and part 5 I adore the characters, but I’m weak to character deaths :(. Maybe with time, I’ll possibly add them to my list but no hopes. Anyway, Kuro.

Kuro Kiryu; Unedited. Gender Neutral Reader.

Warnings; yandere content, mentions of potential threats, alludes to minor manipulation, self-isolating, and simple fights. Nothing is in detail nor is there truly anything bad but as always it is yandere. 

This blog is 17+ please have your age in your bio or tagged; any ageless blog and below the age asked for will be blocked at the end of the week.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

This would vary on if you leave or die rather than escape as he is also one where a lot of the relationship borders on unhealthy. It mainly is because Kiryu has some self-awareness to where things run too far but gets lost in the minor details. His delinquent past might affect some of his actions, but it's not as of he's one to ever use physical harm against you to get you to obey. He tends to focus more on voicing opinions. While he rarely might force you to not interact with others [generally completely strangers rather than friends or family unless he has proof they are bad news], there is a self-imposed guilt you feel when doing so, causing you to avoid others. Unlike others who force rules, and force isolation, Kiryu doesn't make it, so there ever is something you need to escape from. This would be unlike Eichi or Shu, for example. Even being yandere, it’s likely that with Kuro, the relationship develops naturally– or at least appears that way to an extreme extent that there never was some sort of reason to fear Kiryu in the form of genuine escape.

Leaving might be the most common reason or situation the two of you might face. Various reasons; thinking you need to experience life outside of a relationship, becoming tired of the relationship, dating an idol being too stressful, realizing you and Kiryu just don't connect past a honeymoon phase, etc. There are many reasons why you might want to break up, not wholly reliant on his yandere behaviors, but regardless of what it is related to, he often will have the same reaction.

No. Okay, maybe it comes off scarier than he intends when said like that, but Kiryu means, no, we can work this out. You know he's not attempting to come off as scary. He has never been in the relationship, and more so, his fear factor comes from how he traditionally is himself. Kiryu rarely even goes out of his way to threaten others to avoid you; the way he talks and carries himself does that for him unless he can find some valid excuse that even you can’t deny being a good option. Kuro also has never had a past of lying to you when he says he didn't threaten them or did something— it really was the others who picked to act that way post their conversation– although it’s hard to say for sure if there truly was never any violence or threats under his actions. However, no reason to doubt him is still no reason to use it in a breakup. It's not to say that he isn’t aware of his fear factor and thinks of it as a benefit in these situations, but honestly, he tries extremely hard not to do anything bad. He's changed from the delinquent days anyway when he would have quickly jumped to use violence to get them to stay away from you. Really, he doesn't want to do anything to tarnish his new reputation to you, nor have his actions come back and likely affect his sister or career. Leaving him becomes a lot more difficult because while he isn't necessarily the smartest at problem-solving or convincing you to stay as others might be, he tries. He tries so hard that it's impossible to stand your ground firmly. He works to make it so you can compromise [in his favor] to stay with him. Or a break up isn't really a break up— yeah, you've agreed to label it as a break, but this only if it's clear you don't want to date anyone else. Kiryu, even in this situation, hovers around more; not quite a relationship way that you feel you need to tell him to back off, but enough that it feels you're always on the brink of appearing still together. You can blame it on ES, for such a large building; it seems everyone is always wrapped up with each other in some way, although all of it is still profoundly intentional in Kiryu’s actions to stay near. If it is the route of still dating with compromises, these can vary but rarely will it alter or break aspects of his yandere traits as most of these result from his stoic, straightforward, and scary appearance. It's more working on adding things into the relationship to keep you more excited or understanding while a honeymoon phase is over; there are still think you can do together/have in common. Just cause one stage ends doesn't mean to give up; it means working to enjoy the next phase too. So ever really leaving is quite tricky because Kiryu's directness just results in a rebuff of finding reasons to stay, even if it gets to the point staying is just easier than leaving. There even is sometimes a sinking fear that you’d be throwing away the best partner you might ever get because of his personality over this. What if there really never would be anything better? Would you have to come crawling back to him begging for another chance– it’s entirely self-inflicted, but a tiny part of your mind would have to eat away at the possibility.

If you do manage to break up unless you are leaving the country as a whole, where it is hard to avoid Kiryu even if it's clear the relationship is over. Most of his actions feel like he's trying to win you back, such as cooking your meals or asking to spend time with you while he works on a sewing project. It's often weird, but his ability to be direct can make him easily be able to pass it off as being over you. These are just him, well, being him. Even in ways other idols can verify this is just his personality, even if he is being that awkwardly kind self. Under the surface, you know it's more than that… but there is no proof, the uneasiness no one else can understand. Though it's not misplaced, Kiryu's kindness might appear as just his standard attempt to make amends for his past as a delinquent, but everything he does is his goal of making you regret ending the relationship. That maybe you'll fall back in love with him, or you'll come crawling back, calling it a mistake. It’s undeniable that even with his jealousy and misplace tendencies he’s a wonderful partner, brother, and teammate. Kiryu deep down is still a good person fighting against his past and urges– and it’s hard to find someone who would likely treat you as good. Post breakup you’d likely fall back into seeing only happy couples too, it all sinking in just like you feared that even though you have so much life left to live you just tossed aside the best person you could have been with. Perhaps all that anxiety and weird feelings you were getting was from something else– your mind making all sorts of excuses to convince you to just text him those simple words. “Let’s get back together.”

Also all of this is his way of hovering to ensure no one else can pursue or harm you. Kiryu is well aware that even if he's changed from his past, others might hold grudges, and much like how he feared that might impact his sister, he knows that if it got out you were his ex, there is always a chance they might you use against him. Or there might be jealous fans— both upset you hurt him by breaking up or upset that you had the opportunity to date him. There is no telling what might happen, and he might not directly admit these reasons to you as it could become a bigger fight, thus harming the chance of ever getting back together.

Would he move on? If you're around, no. There is always a lingering chance, and if he is around just the same, you’ll unlikely be able to meet someone new. Okay, well, if you were gone completely… maybe. Just like how Kiryu has changed from his former delinquent lifestyle, he also knows there is a point in growing and changing in other ways. Not to say his yandere tendencies heal from this, but he knows it's unfair for him to forever pine after you when you are entirely gone living away from him. It doesn't happen quickly, he locked his heart away for years after this loss, and it's easy to tell even to others he becomes even more reserved [something most won't think was possible, but you proved them wrong]. He might become more snappy with subjects and reject many other forms of care, such as friendships. But in five years… ten years… things might change, and some of that ice might melt again, allowing him to try again. However, the second you show up once again he would be ready to start anew.

Furthermore, if you were to pass away either while dating or post-break-up, where you are still around, the answer is no. Kiryu will have believed that he was lucky enough to have met his soulmate so young, and unfair it might be he doesn't deserve a third chance. His personality is the same as if you were to move away forever; colder, and that stoic nature becomes bitter and quick to tell others off. He doesn't need anyone else, not friends, not someone to love. His sister really would be the only one who would have close contact with his personal life and understand on a deeper level his feelings, usually being the voice of reason to others as to why he became the way he is now [assuming this is in the future and she is also growing up]. He'd care for a grave site weekly, and overall, it feels like a piece of him died along with you.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

There are more what feels like two layers, and it depends on the reason and reason you might be having a moment of out-lash at him.

Take, for example, isolating yourself because you’re upset with him or an action he took or an argument. In this sense, Kuro would probably think you’re being childish. This is the behavior his little sister would have if upset or pouting, not an adult in a relationship. He would likely become more closed off and stoic at the moment and find himself annoyed at the action you are taking rather than settling to deal with the problem at hand. Ironically, it’s just as contradictory that he closes himself off too and doesn’t work to resolve the problem, but if you want to act like a childish brat, why should he have to fix the case you started? Kuro isn’t really the type to make it so you’re fully locked away, unable to have any form of life, and thus resort to isolating yourself in disdain for him. If in a fight, you do resort to isolation to calm down or whatever, then it’s expected you should be able to talk for a short moment before coming to Kiryu to resolve the issue. The longer you wait to talk over the ‘tantrum’, the more frustrated Kuro will get and likely leave him in a grumpy, cold mood to you for longer, unable to express his emotions as he doesn’t want to take them out on you either. Like this, his fear factor only increases, and his hovering nature seems to double for the amount of time you hid progressively. Even if it wasn’t forced isolation or him actively trying to scare other people off, they are now wanting to avoid him and you, by extension, even more. In the end, it only seems to backfire creating a cycle of loneliness problems.

As for something like screaming or crying in a fight, Kuro gets quiet for a reason of self-reprimanding. Not that he feels too guilty over his actions but that his actions once again come back around to hurt someone he loves. Kuro is well aware that his jealousy isn’t normal, and that his actions have never been the healthy solution, but he’s trying. He so desperately wants to amend his past, to melt and burn and tear up the negative and harsh feelings of jealousy boiling in his mind and heart. That this could all be normal, you could love each other and not have to feel this way if he just had done something different. And while he’s quiet, appearing perhaps slightly disinterested or the scowl on his face making you only fear more, he does nothing. He doesn’t take a step; he doesn’t flinch his hands, it almost looks like he’s not breathing with how steady he goes, telling himself not to lash out like the delinquent side of him wants to. He’ll simply wait, running scenarios and words over and over in his head while you exhaust yourself. Honestly, he’s probably not even processing the majority of your comments, so fixated on his thoughts. And as your screams turn into whimpers and tears begin to dry along your cheeks— too exhausted to keep going, Kuro will finally make his move coming over to comfort you. He’ll wipe away the crusting tears with a personal handkerchief and wrap you in his arms slowly as you hiccup those feelings away. In the end, you don’t remember what you were even screaming and crying about; Kuro too distracted to fully reflect the cause either. The fights are usually too far and few in between, but they are draining, with nothing ever being resolved waiting for the next time it comes around.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Kuro takes a long time, at least compared to the majority of the other idols. And it stems from keeping his guard up— both because of his past haunting him and his natural exterior from being a delinquent, his personality, and his wish to change.

To start, Kuro knows his personality is… rough at least from an outsider’s perspective. He’s aware he’s intimidating, his a wall of a person, and his face doesn’t always convey the intentions in his heart. It’s no secret to anyone that even the softness he has is not easily exposed in his demeanor, nor that his ability to pick and throw grown men isn’t terrifying in itself. Even if you don’t come off as frightened by his rough exterior and bluntness to topics that come off as harsh or off-putting at times pre-relationship, there is a lingering doubt in his mind to rush into things. And this leads to the other point; Kuro wants to change. As mentioned, he’s deeply aware not only of his feeling of being over-driven to a not-so-standard degree but being a delinquent doesn’t come with an easy change. It’s not even the fights that are hard to shake off; it’s all of the mentality, the lessons, and skills that come from that life. He doesn’t want, you know, to see that person he once was. He might still be underneath everything because change is more complicated than people expect. Kuro wants the soul mate relationship he feels; he wants to be the knight, not the villain. He wants the fairy tale love from the stories and movies he watches with his little sister— more than giving in to his jealousy and unsavory thoughts. So he waits. Hoping that things can change, not progress.

And the other reason I touched on a little before. His guard has to be still and shaking when getting into a relationship is not easy. Kuro wants to relax, give in, and just let things happen. But being a delinquent means always being on guard, and his softness, while a strength can only be shown in small amounts, tries to keep himself safe. It falters around you more than others, even more as time goes on, but it takes a long time to chip away that shield. And the other guard is, like I said— Kuro knows delinquents make enemies. He has plenty, and while being a famous idol can protect him more so now others might seek revenge on his sister or you. It’s one of the key factors that both hinder and progresses his yandere tendencies because if his guard is up, you can’t love him back, and you won’t be a target. But you’re around him anyway… and it’s unlikely that delinquents care to verify a relationship’s true nature as long as it’s exploitable.

Between these contradicting factors, it takes months. This is beneficial for Kuro means everything can play out, and fall into a relationship like an average couple. One void is his tendencies fogging up the back of his mind, eating away at his heart. It genuinely starts off simple… progressing into seeing him while he sews— one of the few times he lets down his guard— and hanging out with him more and more. It turns into bringing you lunch and hands brushing over each other. It’s hard to suspect him of doing anything wrong, or thinking anything wrong. His rough exterior becomes a flustering teasing point that makes his ears burn, chin buried in his hand. And the bluntness is useful. Asking you out is direct. It’s effortless and more of a command, so you can only blush and agree when the time finally comes. Kuro doesn’t need to snap or to lure you into something. He’s one of the few that isn’t genuinely trapping you, but that doesn’t change the manipulation and fear dripping down his heart; one day, you’ll see past his facade to the delinquent locked away but never truly gone.

[unkat]

i am playing around with the idea of naturally ending chilchuck/his wife as a narrative, with a lot of headcanon interpolation of events. this is led by my fanfic brain which is looking at a different end game. i am marcilling it.

canonically he did not contact his daughters or wife for those years after she left. i struggle to imagine how it must feel for your life partner to let you disappear from his life and stopped contacting your shared kids at the same time, diving even more headfirst into his work that made you feel abandoned in the first place.

i think chilchuck thinks he is doing what is best for them by working hard on improving the respect for half-foots and not telling them about his work life. i can see him thinking that this is too much for them to worry about, so he can protect them by not disclosing anything but a censored version of events, minimizing the danger and death he faces whenever he leaves. i think before he started working in the dungeon, he was a lot more open about it with her, back when the complaints were just shitty customers.

but its not like she wouldnt notice, once he started advocating for higher safety regulations. like. what if each time he came home, he had some new frightening clause to add to his contract, and brushed off her attempts to get details as to why he put it there? and that feeling is not something their kids would be able to overlook once they get old enough to go from parent-child caretaker to parent-child friendship/advisor.

so yeah! when she actually meets his coworkers and realizes how much he has been leaving out about his life, its like he is a totally different person than the man she has been living with for the past 13 years. she has been lied to through omission, and he cant read the room that she needed him to trust her. so, she does something drastic to get his attention (and, very importantly, give herself fulfillment). and then he never calls, never writes, never reaches out for years of her life.

personally i think it would make sense for her to find something of her own, like a hobby or job, after her children have grown, and through that there could someone who can give her enough emotional support to fall in love again.

by the time he returns, he was a good man and great father, but a lousy husband, and she does not want to throw away the happiness she found without him. i think they loved each other for so long that it would be easy to fall back into that fondness after they both had a serious couple of conversations. but the ship to go back to how things were has sailed, and neither of them should try to go back to how things were. there is still love there, just in a different form than it was before.

i guess i kinda like the idea of growth that is staggered from each other due to their communication problems, if i had to make them lines moving in parallel. they fell out of sync understanding each other, and by the time they caught back up, they have missed the window to be as close as they were before. kinda a "right place, wrong time" by the time chilchuck has finished canon. i think there is beauty in the imperfections of damaged relationships, the fallibility of human nature, healing by falling apart.

could they have both been that loyal to the commitment and still work hard to fall back into love? i think its possible, but it should be as difficult as it needs to be for both of them to feel like this is a real change. chilchuck retiring might make that easier or harder for her- less stressful job, but he needs to actually put aside time for them and not fixate on his career, which would be hard if he is still a driving force behind civil movements on top of starting his business.

[noyasaur]

Hi there! I just recently came across your blog and I love it so much!

I wanted to ask if you had any advice of what to do when you feel indecisive over a dr. I find myself constantly changing details like my backstory, friendships, style etc. It becomes challenging to visualize because of these frequent changes. I want to shift, but deciding on specific aspects of my desired reality is difficult and I never truly know want I want. I hope this makes sense and I hope you are doing well 🤍

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

hello! first of all, thank you so much! and yes, i do have some advice for you and hopefully it'll be able to help you (because i often face the same issues you do 😭)

anyways, a suggestion i have for you is whenever you have an idea or want to change something about your dr, i would write it down. any idea i get, i would write it down on a separate page or place. then, i would leave it for some time. it doesn't matter how long, it can be for a few hours or a few days (preferably, a day or two) and try and keep it out of my mind. you will try not to edit your script or change anything.

then, when that period of time you selected for yourself is over, come back to your ideas/changes you've written down, and see if you still want to change that specific thing or add something. giving yourself a break and time to digest and think over what you want, can help you figure out what you truly want.

look over all the ideas and changes you've written down. and since you've given yourself time away from it all, you can come back to it with a fresh mind and be able to decide easier what you truly want. and if you still find yourself thinking about that one idea you have or thing you want to change, then that's usually an indicator you should add in your idea or change something.

additionally, take some time to think about the changes and ideas you've thought of, before adding or changing them in an already established script. visualise yourself having and experiencing these certain details. what will you as a person look like with a certain background, or having certain friends, or having a certain style? do you see yourself having these certain things about yourself? or was it just another random spur of the moment idea? will you enjoy these aspects you've changed?

out of all your ideas, which one do you find more personally connected with? which idea/change can you visualise yourself more in? which one will benefit you more? ask yourself these questions and answer them yourself. weigh out your options and try and find what aspect is going to be a best fit for you in that specific dr.

and once you've done all that and finished that version of your script, then just shift. just go and shift and don't overthink it anymore.

additionally, if you finish a script and want to change certain things or add certain aspects, you can always make multiple drs and add these different aspects in! for example, for one of my drs, i wanted to go from an unknown kpop fan to an idol, but still also have a 'super-trainee- background where i've been training for a very long time. i was super indecisive about this but in the end, i decided to give myself these backstories in a different dr each. i can still experience everything, just in different realities! also, i thought long and hard about what backstory would fit better in each reality. the more i scripted one reality, the more i found myself finding a backstory that would fit one reality over the other. it's all about giving yourself time and figuring out what option will be best for you in each reality.

another thing to remember is that re-editing your script or changing things isn't always bad! another suggestion for you, is once you finish a script for your desired reality, try not to touch it for awhile and just shift! however, if it's been awhile since you've made them script and you feel it needs editing, then go back and edit it. or if you feel you don't completely resonate with certain aspects of your dr, but you prefer others, then you can always change it too. though i would give it some time before going back and re-editing scripts, especially if you want to stop changing things and being indecisive. like i said before, taking a break from things and coming back with a clearer, fresher mind can help you figure out what exactly you want, and what exactly you don't want anymore.

and once you finally feel like you've finished your script, read over it and internally digest and get used to everything you've just scripted. make and feel a connection with it, and if you still don't feel connected enough, then you can always go back and change something.

anyways, i hope this helped! good luck on your shifting journey! i hope you are doing well as well 💕💕

- saturn ♡

[foxys-fantasy-tales]

OC in 15 or Fewer Tag

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

Thank you for the tag @jezifster! My friend @fracturedfable suggested I do this for Maleth~

"You know, my commands used to carry a lot more weight around here. Now I have to stoop to mostly empty threats.”

2. “Your kindred were despised by the Order, as were most of mine. They don’t care much for anything beyond their control or anyone who wouldn’t bend when the tide changed.”

3. “I’ve long forgotten what her voice sounded like, but I’ll never lose her entirely."

4. “I finally reached you both. Do you have any idea how much work I put into this spell? How hard is it for both of you to be near a reflective surface?"

5. "Another mistake to add to my growing list, though from what I can see, I’m grateful sending you two down there together was not among them.”

6. “If you want alone time, you could simply ask."

7. “It would have turned any normal person to dust. You’re lucky you grabbed that relic first. You have enough energy to keep all of your spirits rooted to this plane after all.”

8. “While dreams can be glimpses past our consciousness, that does not mean that everything seen in them is to be taken at face value. At times, a dream is a dream."

9. “Keep your chin up. Down in the dumps does not suit you, and it does neither of you any good."

10. “You wish to send us back to the beginning. Is that the plan? Whatever it may be this time, I will not make the same mistake and lose twice.”

11. "I left all of them to look for the tower I am now sick to death of. I needed a book here, and now I find myself having read them all more times than I can count. Ironic at best, yet depressing most days.” 

12. “It was not I who brought the bastard in to commit the deed.  I recall you on your knees, half-dead and still begging us all for mercy for him. Whether it was his fault or not, that being should have never been invited into our town. We kept so many entities at bay, but you let the worst one in because of a pretty face.”

13. “You only want that to crack on the enemy, and surely not in the inn that already thought to evict you both after the last incident.” 

14.  “My point being, you cannot be so set on a path you forget to check your direction. You will end up lost."

15.

I waited.

I bid my time until it seemed right.

I waited and watched things gods would look away from.

All that remains is more of the same. 

If I raise my hand, far more will fall.

Wait.

Wait.

Wait. (The last is an entry from his journal that kills me.) Open tag for this one as it takes a heck of a lot of time and don't wanna pressure anyone ha. Just spent about two hours on this scouring documents.

[rewordthis]

Hazy Outlines: an impromptu Saturday art class

Saturday, friends!

Class is starting, even if there are still some things not running smoothly… I’m determined to do this anyway, so stick with me. Will overcome the obstacles together.

⚠️ (Apologising in advance because heavy text post with no pictures is boring af, but pics wouldn’t load for whatever reasons… Pff, bear with me, please. And if there’s anything you need to ask, please do! I’ll answer as quickly and as best to my ability! 🫠)

Now I’ll be handing out your first ever practical exercise fliers!

Well, technically not, since you’ll excuse me for making you go search for a square or rectangular box in your home... as this is going to be your assignment for the week. 😎

Yeah… you didn’t see that coming, I’m sure. Did I mention that this is a beginner’s exercises class?

I’ll need everyone participating in these classes to have a cube-like box or an object with 90° angles and straight corners and sides for this first exercise. It can be any material you got readily, any size (just… please not a trunk or something… 😑) a box of tissues would suffice. As long as it is square/rectangular with clean corners (not curved) and with no texture.

Well go on! Go bring it— I’m waiting…

You’ll have to place it in an angle and use a source of light coming from its left. You want it on the table while you sit down? You want it right in front of you, on your desk? You can put it on the damn floor for all I care— actually any weird angle will work better because the contrast will be greater… — all I’m asking, is you put it in perspective.

Now, all you’ll have to do is to decide on a spot to sit. But! Before we begin, I’d like to give some guidelines for the way we’ll work. Let’s go:

1. First of all, we will talk about the grip.

When you’ll be holding your pencil, you’ll have to keep it tilted in an angle. Not entirely parallel on the paper, but having the tip to be near-flat on it. For this, you’ll have to find a grip that allows your arm to move freely.

We won’t draw anything the way we write. Writing is a different function we do with our wrists (small clean lines) and drawing a whole other one we do with our entire arms (faint, broad lines).

Find how you are more comfortable holding the pencil without having your fingers brushing on the paper. Most of the times, the standard way is to use the whole grip to hold the pencil; this is the overhand grip but it needs a lot of time to get used to it and it’s better for fairly big areas. Another way is the loose grip. In loose grip, you hold your pencil way back (from the middle of it usually) and have the butt of the pencil resting on your hand like when you normally write. Personally I have a fairly different way of holding my pencil which heavily depends on the area I work in every occasion, but I just keep it from the butt and swing it when I need to do object placement etc. and then switch in a more steady grip as I add details.

Make lines on the paper. Try it out and see how it weights on the paper and your hand and see which grip feels more comfortable for you. Ideally you’d have to spent at least a couple days trying deferent grips in order to find what works for you. Don’t rush with this… it’s ok. The exercise is meant to be short so taking a few days off for this won’t have a negative impact. Quite the contrary, actually. 🤗

When you feel comfortable enough with your grip, make 6 boxes at one of your paper’s sides. Leave the first one blank. 👉 From boxes 2-6 fill the boxes with the pencils you have, starting from the bigger hardness. Aka, box 2: 2H hardness, 3: H hardness and so on. 👉 For the hardnesses you don’t have, use the closest hardness to fill, trying to keep deferent tones. For example; if you miss the 2H you’ll use the H with lighter strokes and then use it in its box adding one or two layers. Make sure there is a distinct deference in shade from box to box and keep the strokes facing the same direction. Think of it as the spectrum spread in shades of grey.

2. Now, it’s time to do the placing.

Observe the object and let’s try to measure it. In order to do that, you’ll use the tip of your pencil.

When you measure, you generally need to find a shape that is obvious to pick up, so you won’t miss your measurement later on if you forget it. 👉 Are there specific proportions by the object itself that you can use to divide it? This is the most preferable way, because you’ll learn to understand shapes. 👉 But, maybe there are shadows that create a clear division on it. This comes in volumes. 🔸 In any way, what you’ll do is to align your pencil over that shape — starting with the tip and at the end of it placing your fingernail to hold its length. After that, you move your pencil on the same axis to see how many times that shape fits into the object. Start either by the Y or X axis and once you find how many times it fits, try to divide your paper and fit the object on it by putting light marks for every division part and keeping it as centered as possible. Then proceed to do the same on the other axis.

👉 While doing this, hold your paper upright in front of you.

👉 Now it’s the time to connect the marks. This is the tracing phase so make as light marks and lines as possible! And as mentioned, draw the lines from your shoulder and elbow— not your wrist. The lines need to be continuous and decisive.

👉 When you finish tracing the object try to see if any side is bigger/smaller than what you see in reality.

After this stage, we’ll do the outline which will not be much darker because you’ll have to correct anything that is off. It can’t be perfect from the beginning, so keep in mind that you may need to measure again. You just need to define the line a bit more than before but it can’t be too bold. Correct the lines and begin to trace the outline. After that you’ll put in the shadows.

When you think that this is as good a transfer and positioning you’ve made as possible, we’ll start the shading process.

For the shading you’ll use as a guide the boxes we made at the beginning…

3. How to shadow.

During this process you will start by the lighter shade which you will apply to the object. 👉 White parts (extreme brightness) will not be covered, so keep in mind to shade around that (there won’t be too many spots anyway) — you can always use the eraser if you go over something however, so fear not. 👉 Your first shade should be done in one direction. 🔺 Do NOT cross-hatch the shadows. They need to be smooth. 👉 Add the second layer of shadows with a small tilt of the tip towards a slightly different direction (clockwise or counter clockwise it doesn’t matter; we only need a change in degrees like the clock hands from 12 to 1 or 12 to 11); that’ll it be enough. 👉 Keep adding layers to your shadows by slightly adjusting the tip of the pencil until you reach the darkest shade (deep black shades will also be very small areas like the light ones).

Good job! You finished your first practical exercise. That wasn’t so bad now, was it?

🔹 This exercise is best done slowly, and by this I mean take your time with getting comfortable with the pencil and making smooth faded lines throughout the week. It shouldn’t take you more than an hour daily and mainly about 15— 20 minutes. The drawing itself should not take more than an hour. There are tutors that insist on practicing everyday and doing lots of practice and exercises… 😮‍💨 but you really don’t. Not yet. First you need to train your eyes and your hands into what drawing actually is and overdoing it in the beginning may lead to learning things incorrectly or feeling burned out.

Anyway…

You have the whole week to make your first attempt at drawing something as closely to the real thing as you can. Try to recreate everything you see. The lines, the planes, the shadows on it, the shadows behind the object (I’m asking for the immediate background of the object so try to put it in front of something that is as plane as possible). 👉 If the object has too many colours/designs etc, cover it with something as plain as possible like a cloth. This’ll make it a little harder to draw, but you don’t want to be confused by anything more than shadows, volumes and shapes just yet.

🔹 You’re allowed to use only ONE paper. If you have a tablet, you can use that, too. This is you learning the basics after all, so feel free to present both your attempts.

🔺Don’t exhaust yourself, though! Like I said, this is a 1hour☝️exercise tops!

Now the technical stuff:

How this is going to work: ▶️ first of all, take a picture of the object from the same angle you’re going to draw it, so I can evaluate your try and give you tips to work on the next assignment! I’m opting for a tailor-made tutorial because everybody is different. ▶️ Then by the end of the week post the photo and your finished piece (the digital, too; if you do that) with either the specific tag or a mention at me. I want to see what you made!

There are no bad tries here, only things we’re going to learn and mistakes we’re going to fix!

Now, sketch! That’s it. That’s the exercise. Simple, right? :)

[boundinparchment]

Spillways - IV

Karina Alexandre, formerly of Fontaine, serves the Fatui after a series of events forces her hand and her Vision no longer glows bright. Unluckily for her, such circumstances are all too fascinating to the Second Harbinger. Prequel to ‘Tell Me Who You Wanna Be’. Hints at Il Dottore x Original Female Character.

ArchiveOfOwnOwn || FF.net

The Tsaritsa gave a courteous dismissal and Karina schooled her face as best she could.  But hadn’t Dottore come upstairs with her?  Why wouldn’t he have walked in with her, then?

“The one who brought you upstairs was, my understanding, a Segment of our beloved Doctor,” the Tsaritsa said, mirth dancing across her face as she led Karina out of the throne room and through another set of doors, into a private sitting room.  

Everything, from the structure of the room to the furniture, appeared as if it was carved from crystal.  Light was fractured in prisms that made Karina’s eyes hurt.

“A…Segment?” the chevalier asked, her voice still thick with emotion.

“He has…refined himself over the years, through the use of leylines and Irminsul, in pursuit of our collective goal.  It is quite handy to be in many places and times at once.  Such work has led to a greater understanding of the Abyss.”

The Tsaritsa gestured for Karina to sit and she did so, her back straight against the back of the chair.  The servant that appeared earlier poured three cups of tea, despite the presence of only two at the table, and disappeared again.

“I venture that there is only so much I can answer without the Doctor present.  However, as I said, there were parts of your Judgment that I asked Focalors to keep from the public that you are entitled to.”

Details that likely would have died with her family, Karina realized.  Or, if they didn’t, were suppressed to save their honor, so she hoped.

Karina ran her fingers around the rim of the porcelain cup.  It was warmed through by the tea, a warm honey color that smelled incredibly sweet.  She wasn’t certain her stomach could handle anything sugary just yet.

“Why did my parents plead with Snezhnaya and not the Hydro Archon?”

The question was one she asked, only once, after her parents had brought her home and she’d finally had a chance to eat and rest.  All they said was that the Tsaritsa was more merciful.  A half-answer at best and one that Karina never truly believed.

“Focalors is an…interesting Archon,” the Tsaritsa began.  “One that I have never been able to truly understand, for she seems to hold her Heavenly Principle a little too close to its dictionary definition.  I can only guess that your parents knew the power structures of your nation will always protect those within them at the detriment of those outside of it.  I can only imagine their pain in realizing their child, too, would experience the same suffering they fought so hard to break away from.”

How is this protecting me? Karina thought.  They turned to the one group best known for underhanded tactics, pressuring, and…

The Fatui hid Sébastien’s victims, to add insult to injury.  The Doctor made use of the dead long after they were gone.  They should have gone back to the leylines, back into the veins of the world…

“Regrator’s terms are always fair, Karina.  I do not doubt that you will find service in the Fatui to be similar to what you know already from your time as a chevalier.  May I have your Vision, please?”

Although the Tsaritsa phrased it as a question, Karina recognized an order when she heard one.  Archons were always so good at the illusion of choice.

Karina unclipped her Vision, the stone as dark as coal, and placed it into the Tsaritsa’s awaiting palm.  The Archon studied it, turning it over in her hands.  She said nothing, nor did she even notice the set of doors opening and closing again, the lady-in-waiting announcing the arrival’s presence.  

The figure’s steps were steady but almost murderous in their pace, as if they didn’t have the time for such last minute meetings.  Karina could hear the metal bolted to the back of the person’s boots tap the floor like the hammer of a blacksmith.  It took a moment for her to realize that this was, in fact, the Doctor.  Il Dottore proper.

Her heart raced as she put the pieces together: the hair, styled differently but the same shade, a bit taller than the Harbinger who brought her upstairs and the one she met in the cathedral basement, and in a much different style of dress.  A white coat, still, but with straps, ornamentation, and an imposing presence that she had never felt before.  His cadence was different, assured and confident.  The mask resembled more of a bird’s profile, hiding his eyes entirely; Karina wasn’t sure if that was a relief or not.  

“Moya Tsaritsa, forgive my tardiness.  My latest experiment took longer than I expected to subdue.”

Although his voice was deeper, he spoke with the same cold inflection.  Definitely Dottore, then, Karina rationalized.

She tried not to shudder when the Tsaritsa held out the dead Vision to Dottore without so much as looking at its owner or even standing to welcome her trusted Harbinger.  The Archon murmured something Karina couldn’t make out but Dottore gave a thoughtful hum in response.  He turned the Vision over in his hand and held it up to the light as he and the Tsaritsa spoke in hushed tones in a language Karina didn’t recognize.  Quickly, it devolved.  Dottore’s shoulders tensed and the words between them became clipped squabbles.  The Tsaritsa was resolute, as steady as a mountain in a snowstorm, but it didn’t take a detective to notice that Dottore was slowly losing his battle in remaining calm.

The two stared at each other before Dottore turned the Vision over in his hand one more time and said, “As you command, then, Your Excellency.”

He shook his head when the Tsaritsa held out a hand, gesturing for him to sit.  Instead, he directed his hidden gaze towards Karina, playing with the Vision all the while.

“I take it, then, you’re the chevalier who made a mess of things in that small little village.  Is that correct?”

“Yes, Lord Harbinger.”

“So quick to take responsibility for that mess .” He teased, his words laced with icy sarcasm.  “A soldier wouldn’t have ended up in such a position.  Had your superior seen to it that your training was adequate , he would have ensured you followed your orders rather than followed a few threads of red string into an international nightmare.”

Fire burned in her gut at the insult but she stayed her tongue.  All of this was because she hadn’t been able to keep her mouth shut, hadn’t been able to keep her nose out of where it didn’t belong.

“We’ll be sure to fix that, then,” Dottore sneered.  

He bowed to the Tsaritsa, Karina’s Vision still within his grasp.

“If that is all, Your Excellency, I will handle this matter with Regrator myself.”

The Tsaritsa offered no reply except an icy, warning stare, and a remark that Karina did not understand.  Gone was the Archon who offered any sort of comfort earlier, her frozen visage truly the embodiment of the eternal winter storm that seemed to rage in parts of the mountains in Snezhnaya.  

Dottore stood straight and turned on his heel, leaving the room without so much as touching the tea that was laid out for him.

“Come, chevalier.”

Karina quickly stood, taking another bow with the same exacting gestures she was so used to herself, and thanked the Archon for her time.  As she caught up with Dottore, her legs carrying her at a pace that matched his, she couldn’t help but wonder what, precisely, had been exchanged between the Archon and her Harbinger.  He was clearly less than pleased about the entire thing; he was holding her Vision so tight, she swore the stone would shatter.

The Harbinger let out an audible sigh.

“You will undergo the standard training of every Fatuus, you will follow the orders of your commanding officers and your Harbinger.  Once a week, you will come down to my laboratory for extensive elemental testing.  Your Vision is…an interesting case.  For now, you are better off without it.  Most people tend to be.”

He stopped abruptly, the hallway they were passing through deserted.  Karina stood back, confused by the sudden change, until he turned around and closed the distance between them, looking down at her.  She didn’t need to see his eyes to know he was glaring daggers at her, inconvenienced by the Tsaritsa’s whims.

“Just so we are crystal clear, there is little that the frigid landscape out here cannot fix for people such as you, chevalier.”

His face was mere inches from hers, as it had been on that day, as well.  Much like before, she didn’t fear him; if he wanted her to be scared of him, he was going to have to do better than that.  Dottore gave a low chuckle.

“Perhaps you may even find purpose in it.”

She pretended not to notice how her heart skipped.  Her mind and her heart were hardly in sync at the moment, anyway.  He turned on his heel and continued onwards, as if he’d never stopped at all.

[billswaggy]

| Madman | chapter 1

Masterlist | Anakin Skywalker x OC!Fem!character.

Warnings: None

✩ ☾ ☽ ⋆｡°✩ ☽ ✩

"You may wonder why I have asked you to come here." The Queen sits on the throne with Master Yoda, Windu and Kenobi bowing to her.

Master Windu nodded, looking at Yoda to see if he had anything to say. Yoda gave him a small smile and looked back at the Queen. 

"The witches and Jedi have been at war for too long, longer even before my reign and my mother's. I would like to negotiate a peace offer."

The Jedi were taken aback when they realize what the Queen was initialing. They didn't want to trust a witch but so many Jedi lives were lost in this war against the witches. The only option the Jedi had was to listen to the queen's peace offer.

"You've heard about my daughter. The lost princess. I want her back home more than anything. But I've tried so hard to find her and my son, but I've found nothing and it's breaking my heart. I am so desperate for my babies that I will make the Jedi legal again on Alstoria if you bring them home"

Some Jedi gasped when they heard Queen Natalie request. They stayed silent, not knowing how to respond to this tented offer.

"Are you going to sit here and stay silent? I am your Queen on Alstoria so I command you to speak!" The Queen's yell echoed in the room, sending shivers to the Jedi bodies.

"The lost princess shall we found, then we'll come here and peace will be." Master Yoda speaks with a smile on his face while the other Jedi had terrified looks on their faces.

Natalie nods to Yoda and looks away to the big windows of the throne room. A single small tear falls upon her check. Her own mother would kill her for doing such a thing as in a deal with the Jedi but her daughter was too dangerous for this galaxy.

"She is not alone." She speaks up, "Her brother, my son, and her dragon probably don't let her out of their sight. And her great powers have destined to be the most powerful ones in the galaxy. Do not play with her. Do not consider that you are fighting against a child, because you are not." Natalie warns them of her daughter, if Eloise is anything like the witch from the prophecy it won't be easy.

"We have the Jed-" Master Windu tries to reassure her but she silence him, "I want the chosen one to do it." Queen Natalie adds.

Obi-wan Kenobi stands up to the feared Queen, "He is still a Padawan, my Padawan, and you just told us how dangerous she can be. It is a suicide to Anakin."

She looks at Obi-wan, mad at first, then her face softens, "If he can make this mission than he is capable of being a Jedi knight, and from what I've heard he is very eager to become one. Tell him that he'll become a Jedi knight and I bet nothing will stop him."

"Queen it's still not-" Queen's eyes start to glow, making him shut his mouth, "I am giving the opportunity to access one of the most powerful planets in the galaxy, I've invited you into my home and you can't simply do some meaningless tasks?"

Obi-wan looks away and gives up. "You're right Queen Moon. The Jedi order will help you find your children."

✩ ☾ ☽ ⋆｡°✩ ☽ ✩

Anakin's smile was getting more and bigger as Obi-wan was giving him details about his first mission.

"Do not get excited, my Padawan, she can be dangerous and she has a dragon." Obi-wan tries to give Anakin a reality check but the young boy was too into the clouds to care.

"Wouldn't the dragon be around the same age as her, Master? It couldn't be that old to be a problem."

"The Queen told me they have a connection that also connects the dragon with her powers. And the Queen fears that her powers have grown a lot over these years, and the dragon as well."

Anakin just chuckles, "Well it will be fabulous to fight a dragon and get my Jedi knight title."

Obi-wan was mad about Anakin's behavior over this princess situation. Anakin was blinded by the title to see who he is actually against. All those people that came to find the princess and none return made Obi-wan nervous.

He decided that maybe he could scare Anakin if they have a drink and a talk about the actual threats he'll face.

Anakin stuttered when he gave his order to the waitress from the bar where Obi-wan had dragged him in.

He was so stunned about that girl's beauty he almost fell off his chair when she came to bring their drinks.

Eloise was embarrassed when her powers have slipped from her control and completely ruin the vase that she knows Louis will give her a hard time about.

But the embarrassment was replaced with fear and concern when she realizes why they were here to celebrate. When she realizes that her mother has started the search for herself and her brother again.

While Anakin was staring at her from across the room, Obi-wan sighs, "Witches, I can't believe some of them actually live on this lousy planet. Witches can be very tricky Anakin, their mind games are much stronger than ours and don't even get me started if they have chaos magic." He chuckles, but Anakin seems unfazed by his master's words.

All that Anakin could think about was how beautiful her blue powers were, and how a small pout was able on her face while cleaning the broken vase.

Even though Anakin's glass was almost full, Obi-wan's was empty and before he could get a refill Anakin offered saying how much his master works.

"Could I please get a refill?" Anakin nervously asks, catching her attention from cleaning the vase. Eloise just nods and works on refilling the empty glass.

He didn't know how to start a conversation with her, he was out of words and he is never out of words. "So you're a witch? I actually have a task about a witch." Eloise gets her eyes off the drink and brings them to Anakin.

"Yeah I've heard a really big one." She shoots him a quick smile, trying to hide her anxiety.

"The Queen herself asked for me." Eloise's brows furrow when she hears about her mother's odd request. "She probably believes that I am the only Jedi that can beat a dragon and a witch."

Eloise chuckles at that, "You really think you can overpower a witch? Can you even lift a pen?" Anakin takes her challenge and lifts the pen that was in her hair, slowly.

"That was very slow, I can do it so much faster, and how do you think you'll keep up with the princess." She raises her hand and blue particles start to appear around her finger, organizing the ingredients and floating them to their rightful place in seconds.

She smirks at Anakin and pushes the drink towards him, "That is how you do simple telekinesis and also," she raises his Padawan braid with her powers and chuckles, "You're not even a Jedi."

"Maybe you could teach me the ways of the witch. I could use some advice about how I could over power her.

Eloise's smile faded, "No I can't."

Anakin cursed himself for ruining their conversation, going back to Obi-wan with his drink.

Eloise was drying a glass when she felt shivers run down her spine. She tried to shrug it off, thinking it was maybe because of the Jedi but it felt much stronger.

She gasped when a scared man barged into the bar with fear in his eyes.

"Please we need a Jedi. A dragon has been seen flying over us!" The man yells, Anakin and Obi-wan already getting up.

Eloise runs downstairs, hoping that it was another dragon. But all her prayers were unheard when she sees that it was empty with a big hole in the wall.

She ran outside to find Fahran. She was getting walked all over by the people of Coruscant running away for their lives.

Eloise was looking around the sky to see her beautiful dragon. She spotted him flying, Eloise realized Fahran was bigger than she remember last night. That made even more nervous than before.

But nothing made her heart break more than when she saw troops getting ready to shoot arrows at Fahran.

She screams to the troops to not do it but they didn't listen to a little girl. Eloise had enough when she saw one of them actually touch Fahran, she blasted them away from any type of weapon and started to walk where Fahran was trying to land.

With everyone running the opposite direction as her, she bumped into someone so hard that she fell down with her ring slipping from her finger. She didn't care about her hair, she got up and tried to use her powers to give herself a little boost, Eloise did cover her face when she got closer to her dragon.

She whispered Fahran, in hopes that she could calm him enough that she can heal him.

Blue twirls worked around Fahran's wounds with Eloise whispering little praises that could keep him calm.

Guards caught up with them, ordering Eloise to pull down her hood away from her face.

Eloise did a quick sleep spell, but she still had to somehow bring Fahran back to their home.

Fahran gestured to Eloise to get on his back, she was taken aback by what he was trying to say. Because of all these years of hiding she never got to ride him, and that sadden her, after hearing all those great stories about dragon riders that her mother used to her when Fahran was born.

Eloise patted his head and smiled, muttering a spell that would make them invisible so they could sneak back.

"You've grown quite a bit haven't you, my boy?" She giggles when Fahran moves his head so she could continue to pet him.

She launched herself on top of him, holding tight a spike from his head. She takes a deep breath, trying to prepare herself for what was coming.

When Fahran started flying across the always awake plant everything when silent. After all these years of headaches because she could never catch a break on that planet, she could finally close her eyes and feels the wind on her face.

The silence up in the clouds made her think of Alstoria, her home planet, the silence and peace that were always felt in the forests or near the fountains. The flowers blooming right in her hands and glow-butterflies flying around Eloise while Fahran was sitting on her shoulder, trying to burn one of the butterflies with his baby dragon fire-breath.

She didn't even notice that Fahran has brought her back home. She saw how Louis was biting his nails and Paolo pacing around the basement.

After she brought Fahran back in, she took off the spell making them gasp when a giant dragon appears behind their backs.

Eloise and Louis used their powers to restore the wall as it's supposed to be and Louis turned to Eloise, mad.

"What were you thinking? Do you have any idea how badly this could've ended up?" Louis sighs when he notices her white hair.

He asked her where the ring was and she explained how she had lost it when she was struggling to get to Fahran.

"The ring you did not lost." Paolo takes the ring from his coat, giving it to her with a frown.

Louis knew that it would happen someday, he knew since he saw how much her powers grew and Fahran once with them. But it broke his heart to say something like that to his little sister.

"It isn't his fault, he was just curious." Eloise defended Fahran in front of his brother.

"Then who is it, Eloise? I was mine for letting you keep him."

She scoffs at his brother's words, "Of course he would try to fly for a bit! All these years he had stayed inside, it was just a matter a second before he snapped. Fahran didn't use his fire at all he was just flying like a normal dragon!"

Louis tells her he knows about the news that Anakin Skywalker was assigned to find and bring back home the princess of Alstoria.

She looks away in shame, "Please just make sure that he won't get away again. I love you and this life too much to lose it." He brings his sister into a hug and pulls Paolo into it as well, and of course Fahran had to get in it too, pushing everyone around making them laugh like crazy.

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After everything that happens with the mystery dragon, the bar was full of gossip about what happened and what could've happen. Eloise had to bite her tongue down so she wouldn't smack one of the men that were gossiping about her dragon.

Her mood swifts when she feels someone coming up to her, she smiles when she realized who it was.

"Ah Anakin Skywalker, what brings you here again? Another drink?" Eloise looks up to Anakin, "You remember me? That means I've left a good impression."

Eloise shrugs, "Not really but that rat-tail braid really made a stand-out." She teases him, and Anakin rolls his eyes.

"It's a Padawan braid, it is an honorable-" she cuts him off with a small laugh "I bet you want so bad to become a Jedi Knight so you can finally get rid of that rat tail. Because you probably get no ladies with this haircut." She starts laughing hysterical at his little ponytail from behind that tears gathered in her eyes.

"I am doing this so can I can bring that scared girl back to her mother." What Anakin said made Eloise go quiet, she licks her lips and looks right into his eyes.

The tension started to rise until a men started to talk very loudly about how he saw a man going to the dragon.

"I saw a man going to that dragon! And he healed him with witchcraft! How mad can you be to actually believe that dragons are trusty animals? A madman like that guy!" That makes Eloise eyes glow and Anakin took notice in it and took her hand.

"Are you alright?" She blinks a few times, trying to bring her actual eye color back.

"I am sorry, it bothers me when people talk so disrespectful about dragons. In my culture they are viewed as wild beautiful creatures that if a dragon accepts you, you are one of them." Eloise explains more about the witch culture that she grew up with.

"Yes but here they are viewed as wild beast-"

"But witches are the ones that have dragons and actually know them. Not like you people that has made your imagine on dragons from child's books." She responds back with venom to Anakin.

Anakin gives her right and goes to that guy telling him to keep it down. When the men started to protest, Anakin moved his robes to reveal his lightsaber. That made him go silent and just drink his drink.

"You know my name, but I do not know yours." He reminds her, and she smiles, all her anger disappearing when Anakin made that guy shut up.

"I'm Eloise. And thank you, Ani, really." Anakin takes a piece of hair from her face.

"Ani... I like it, Ellie. You are welcome, I am sorry if I offended you in any way."

Eloise just shakes her head and Anakin starts talking about his life. She didn't stop him at all, she actually payed attention to every detail, to every expression he makes, to everything. Anakin stayed a lot talking about his Jedi adventures. He even started helping her with cleaning the place after those pigs left.

If they only knew with whom they were actually with.

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