#it can be used to double check if a solution is correct and I thought that it's so ironic in axe end how she still gets the problem wrong

[anshelsgendercrisis]

I appreciate learning from your blogs (both transmasc stuff and Jewish stuff), so if it's not overstepping, I am interested in your thoughts on something. Knowing that the terms Zionism and Zionist are being misused so frequently, I did some introductory reading from a few sources, one of which was the ADL. I've found their Hate Symbols Database helpful in the past, and I was looking into their anti-bias training resources since the school I work for has been failing (spectacularly) at such training. Reading their page on Zionism answered some basic questions, and their Myths and Facts about the ADL page also mentioned that "anti-Zionism equates to antisemitism".

Knowing that you (if I am remembering the specifics correctly, sorry if I'm misremembering) are an anarchist and against the existence of all states (including a Jewish one, thus you have explained you are neither Zionist nor anti-Zionist), I was wondering what your general thoughts are of the ADL's perspective on Zionism, and on the ADL as an organization. I hope this question doesn't come off negatively; I know I'm lacking a lot of knowledge, so I'm very grateful to be corrected on anything I said that's wrong/hurtful/ignorant/naive.

Once I get my recent medical stuff figured out, I look forward to signing up to your Patreon and giving more consistently than here-and-there Kofi donations :)

a little background on the adl: it was founded after the conviction and lynching of leo frank. its original purpose was to pressure media and businesses who engaged in antisemitic discrimination or defamation (hence the name). some of the things they engaged in early on were boycotts, demanding prior review of theater productions to screen for antisemitic content, and pressuring advertisers who relied on antisemitic stereotypes. this was in the time leading up to the holocaust, when violence and discrimination against jews was surging all over the world, so it makes a lot of sense why an organization like this was founded.

in terms of the modern organization, i have mixed feelings. i think their hate symbols database can be helpful, and i think some of the data collection is good as well, but there are a lot of stances they have and statements they've made that i really do not agree with, and some of which i think are harmful. that, for me, is why i don't generally use the adl as a primary or sole source for any news or info. i always double check multiple sources and try to use pages like myjewishlearning for educational things.

the adl is also very explicitly pro israel, as in supportive of the current state and government of israel, which is something i'm very much not. as you mentioned, i am an anarchist so i oppose the concept of states in general, including israel, and i'm also highly critical of the current israeli government.

their page on zionism is...accurate from their point of view, and from a lot of progressive zionists' points of view. but i think it paints a rosy picture of zionism that avoids any of the problematics or history of political zionism, which is just not helpful at this point. they're correct that for most people, zionism means advocating for jewish statehood in eretz yisrael, and that there has absolutely been a sort of "yearning for zion" in the diaspora for hundreds of years. and they are correct that there are many zionists who do not support the current israeli government or who advocate for a two state solution.

i also staunchly disagree that antizionism is in and of itself antisemitism. i think it is an ideology and movement that does very easily and too often fall into antisemitism, just because of the nature of how intertwined the conversation is with jewish identity and the jewish people, and we have seen many examples of this over the past month. however, because of the nebulous nature of the definition of zionism, the definition of antizionism is also going to be nebulous. if someone says "i'm a zionist", unless they elaborate i'm not going to know if i'm talking to someone who thinks that jewish people should be able to live peacefully in eretz yisrael alongside other indigenous people or to someone who wants a sovereign jewish state where jews are the ones in power. if someone says "i'm an antizionist", unless they elaborate i'm not going to know if i'm talking to someone who opposes the current state and government of israel and the occupation or someone who thinks (((zionists))) control the media and the banks and that jewish people as a collective are killing palestinian babies for fun. so for me, the terms "zionism" and "antizionism" are kind of useless unless the person i'm talking to further explains their stance, which means trying to label either zionism or antizionism as entirely inherently Bad is counterintuitive to any goal.

so to wrap this up, for me, an unwillingness to tackle the problematics is why i tend to clash with a lot of zionists and zionist institutions and organizations, and it's why i don't generally trust the adl on anything related to israel without other sources to verify.

[girakacheezer]

Marlowe Devblog #10

I came across an issue in the game where if a box is flush against the wall, I can stand on the floor beneath the box as long as I’m walking into it.

This issue also occurs sometimes in stacks of boxes, but normally because there’s a very small ledge/difference in position that’s less than 1 pixel and thus not visible to the human eye.

Since this is similar to the issue I faced in Marlowe Devblog #3, I thought maybe a similar solution would work, where I could just simulate collision in different orders to find the correct outcome.  But with throwing entities into the mix, this would double the number of simulated collision runs in a single entity check, if not increase them further, so this strategy is becoming less appealing.

I looked online to see if anyone else has faced similar issues with tiles or whatnot, and one solution I saw people mention was to “change the player’s collider to a circle”.  In this engine I’m making, collision isn’t really built to the point where it can work with arbitrary geometrical shapes, just rectangles (it makes calculations a lot simpler), but I can still use the idea of a “rounded hitbox” to fix this.

The issue right now is that as a perfectly rectangular object, when we try to fall down and into the right into this “wall”, the corner of our hitbox hits the hidden corner of the wall below the box and end up getting pushed up as well as to the left outside the wall and box.

Using a circular hitbox though, the corner of the player’s hitbox wouldn’t get snagged on the hidden corner in the wall anymore, allowing us to “slide” past it.  However I don’t have circular collision programmed into the engine, so instead I’ve opted for a slightly different solution.

The idea is instead to use a hitbox that behaves more like this, with “rounded” corners to help us slide past things when we’re against a mostly flat surface.

In practice how I achieved this was by snipping the ends of the collision lines for map collision, so that there was a bit of room to avoid hitting the corner/edge of the line inside the “wall”.  I chose to snip the map lines instead of the player box since in general map lines are bigger than entity hitboxes, and rounding the corners of a very small hitbox could lead to weird interactions.

However this had an issue where if I jumped into a corner just barely, I could clip the player’s corner into the line and get OOB, since map line collision is permissive in that if you were behind a line the frame before, you’re allowed to be behind the line until you’re in front of it again.

So I updated the collision such that for the map lines, there was a tiny space behind the line that if the corner/edge of the hit box was in, it would snap the player to the line edge, even if it was on the inside of the line before.  This prevented the issue where the player could clip OOB via corners in geometry.

This update to line collision also meant it fixed the issue I previously had in devblog 3 without the need for multiple collision simulations, so I was able to remove that code from the map collision which will increase the perf of collision code in general.

This also lets you slide around corners if you bonk into them just barely, which is a nice feature to have to make jumps/collision feel more fair.

I also applied a slightly modified version of this corner forgiveness to entities, and it works well here too.  It also solves a previous issue I had where you could get snagged on a corner if sliding against a solid flat wall of boxes, which previously I had a solution in place that sorted entities by distance from the target before running collision checks, which was a rather expensive solution performance wise.  I’m able to remove that sort() call now, thanks to this.

[superkilometerfilter]

Are Mileage Blockers Traceable? – Everything You Need To Know

Mileage correction tools are very common in today’s world and people use various methods to somehow alter an odometer and change the digits on it, but the main question is – are mileage blockers traceable? The short answer is No, but in order to answer this question that everyone has thought about and to answer it, we need to take several factors into consideration.

First of all, there are a variety of devices that interfere with the correct functioning of the system. They artificially adjust the mileage and show misleading numbers on the dashboard. To do so they use rolling back, deleting, freezing or extracting the data. A person can remove any amount of distance in a few minutes. Although these methods seem appealing to others, they all have the same issues. Firstly, new cars store the information in separate storage units and even though the numbers are removed from the instrument cluster the data is easily traceable. Furthermore, any action that makes the odometer show a misleading distance is illegal and a responsible party will face a legal dispute.

It is true that those gadgets have several flaws and that is why a German team has created an advanced tool – Mileage Blocker. These unique blockers from Super Kilometer Filter (SKF) do not delete or roll back already existing data (which is automatically illegal). How does it work? The Mileage blocker simply stops counting up miles or kilometers when a car is in motion. Hence, it halts the whole distance recording process. Moreover, it prevents the mechanism to save the information regarding the mileage in any storage units, therefore the data is totally untraceable. Remember that the mileage blocker is for only testing and tuning purposes and using it on free roads is against the law.

To sum up, there are many instruments that interfere with the normal functioning of an odometer. Are mileage blockers traceable? All of these devices have the same flaw – they are easily trackable, but there is a Mileage Blocker that only alters the recording process in a vehicle and is also untraceable. In addition, everyone should have in mind that it is for only testing or tuning purposes and using it on everyday bases is illegal.

WHAT IS A CAR DIAGNOSTIC TOOL?

As the cases of mileage fraud increase, people try to find solutions. In the beginning, of course, everyone tries to identify the problem on his/her own. However, it became obvious that such illegal actions are extremely hard to detect. This is the moment when we reach out to a professional for help. Technicians have many useful gadgets for different cases and one of them is a diagnostic scanner.

New vehicles have plenty of sensors, panels and advanced elements that instantly detect any issues. Once they find a problem, a specific icon will appear on your dashboard. It is correct that in the modern era these technologies became a very handful, but there are still cases when it is not enough and a diagnostic gadget comes in. But are mileage blockers traceable with a diagnostic tool? In order to answer this question, we need to take a look at how this device works. 

Diagnostic scanners help us identify the problem, damage or anything that interferes with the normal function of the system. It uses all the data that storage units accumulate and analyzes them. It will identify all the issues from the smallest to the biggest ones. You just need to connect it to an ODB (on-board diagnostic) port and switch it on. Based on a manufacturer the ODB port might be located in a different part of your automobile, so double-check this little detail beforehand. Once you set up the scanner, it will display all the necessary information. It is very effective against mileage correction appliances; however, it cannot identify any trace of a mileage blocker.  

DO I HAVE TO BUY CAR SCANNER TOOLS?

If you are wondering whether buy a diagnostic tool or not, you need to know the pros and cons of it. The first and most important question is “why do you need it”? In case your dashboard frequently displays error signs it would be a great choice. It will be beneficial also if you decide to check for odometer calibration. But are mileage blockers traceable? No, mileage blockers do not use the CAN bus system to store the information inside the car. Hence, diagnostic tools cannot detect it.

You have options: go to a professional technician or buy one. A visit to a professional will cost you from $40-$400. The prices vary depending on the service you need. The prices could be different based on your location (city, state or country), so please double-check the details in advance. It should be noted that sometimes they claim diagnosing is free, but in that case, they may charge you extra for other additional services. Overall, whether it is free or not you will end up paying approximately the same amount in the end.

Let’s discuss what you need to consider before buying it. First of all – the price. There are different versions and the cheapest ones will cost you around $100. If you want to buy something that has way more functions and capabilities you need to spend way more than just $100. However, vehicles need frequent check-up to find out that it works flawlessly. So, if you buy the device it will be a one-time payment for you (as you will have a gadget and can test your car whenever you want), while each visit cost you a certain amount of money. 

Therefore, buying a diagnostic device depends on your budget and purpose. Of course, a visit is cheaper than buying the gadget, but in a longer perspective, it can be different. If you need the check-up only once, a visit might be a better option. And if you intend to do tests multiple times a good investment may be the best for you.

HOW TO AVOID CLOCKING

Clocking is an ever-growing challenge in the 21st century. Countries try to somehow prevent it, but so far, the measures were not good enough to stop them. According to NHTSA, more than half a million cars have misleading speedometer only in the United States. The damage goes up to billions in the US. Such actions are common in the European Unions as well. Due to the fact that they don’t have one common law, it is becoming harder to control the process. EU report states that removing digits happens at cross border territories and has damage of €1-€9 billion.

Despite being illegal, people still roll back or remove displayed miles on the instrument cluster. In this reality more and more people ask “are mileage blockers traceable”? As we know, no device can trace odometer blockers and it is important to know how to protect yourself from potential fraud. Here are the useful tips you need to know while buying a used vehicle.

Check external appearance. Take a look at tires and make sure that they are in proper/good conditions;

Artificially changing kilometers require removing the instrument cluster. More likely there will be scratches on it if someone reset the odometer;

Examine all the pedals and be certain that they are not worn out. A new auto will not have significantly used pedals;

Take a look at the pedals as well. Look closely to make sure they are in good condition and there is nothing suspicious;

Ensure that you have all the official documents, reports and log books. They give you essential information in detail. So, double-check that this information matches the numbers on the dashboard;

You can also request VIN to validate the details online. 

Changing mileage is becoming extremely common. These steps will help you identify the problems from the beginning and prevent any additional complications. Do not forget to always check as much as possible and validate all given information. 

MILEAGE BLOCKER – A LEGAL DEVICE TO HALT MILEAGE

For years a lot of companies tried to create something that would effectively and legally change the distance on the instrument cluster. They started rolling back, deleting, removing and clocking digits, but all of these actions are illegal. Plus, they have another bigger issue – they are traceable. That is why a team from Germany has developed a Mileage Blocker – a device that simply stops mileage recording. So, it just prevents counting up new miles or kilometers while a vehicle is in motion. It is proven to be effective but the question is “are mileage blockers traceable”? No, nobody can detect it. The blocker does not delete data from the system, it just does not store the information that makes it uncrackable. The company has created it only for car testing and tuning purposes. The mileage blocker has several advantages:

It provides Do-It-Yourself (DIY) easy installation instructions. By following simple steps you will be able to set up it by yourself;

The blocker does not transfer the information to storage units and it has an untraceable effect;

Plug and go function;

The tool has several modules and you can choose your favourite one for your drive; 

Mileage blockers consist of premium quality cables that are heat-resistant and work without an issue under any condition;

Official blockers from Super Kilometer Filter (SKF) include a mobile app. It gives you an opportunity to control it from your phone.

Anyone can purchase the mileage blocker from SKF. Always remember that company has created it for testing/tuning purposes and using it on free highways is unethical. This is why different manufacturers and dealership companies frequently use them.

Takeaway

To conclude, are mileage blockers traceable? – No, because they do not store the data about the miles in the system. They just stop counting up km while you are in motion and hence, nobody knows about your trip. Plus, it has a mobile application that gives you remote control via your mobile phone. Please remember that the device is for testing and using it on free roads is unethical and illegal. If you have any questions, feel free to check the support page or contact the customer center.

[miyu486]

COMP492 Assignment RBP: Reflective Blog Post

I would have never imagined being in the position I am in today 4 years ago. Coming into Dickinson, I didn’t know what I wanted to study and distinctly remember picking my first computer science class merely because I thought “computers and software are cool and fun”, not having a single clue what computer science was all about. However, one thing was certain, I loved solving problems and learning about new topics that pique my interest. Now, as a senior computer science major at Dickinson College, I can confidently say that my experience has been full of growth and progress towards achieving the learning goals of the major and the mission of a Dickinson College education.

To begin with, I’d like to touch on the progress I’ve made to achieve some of the goals as a computer science major. Firstly, I have developed a strong mastery of problem-solving that is applicable across various disciplines. Through coursework and collaborative projects/labs, I have honed my ability to identify problems, analyze them, and develop effective solutions. I’ve gained strong analytical and critical thinking skills, which are both crucial to problem-solving. For instance, in my Database Systems class, I was tasked to design and implement a database and database application with my partner, a very broad and open-ended task. My partner and I began by brainstorming what problem or need our database application should address, thinking critically about the common issues and inconvenience people around us including ourselves face. Upon some thorough discussion and a general observation of our surroundings, we decided to implement a trip-planning application that can record and track the trips a user has taken or plans to take. This was a perfect blend between deriving a useful solution that addresses a real problem and applying what we have learned in class. During the process, we faced a lot of issues ranging from technical problems such as not knowing how to implement database triggers to non-technical problems such as how to design and format the application interface that users can plan trips on. To tackle these problems, we consulted the web and visited different articles and documentation to retrieve correct and efficient solutions. We also asked around our friends and other Dickinson students about the non-technical concerns we had and received insightful feedback about how we can improve our application. Needless to say, both my partner and I were able to demonstrate real-world problem-solving skills by utilizing different resources to derive creative and effective solutions.

Next, I’d like to touch on the progress I’ve made toward acquiring the ability to work and collaborate in teams. With the help of many of my computer science classes at Dickinson, I have made significant progress toward this goal. Specifically, I have improved several skills that are critical to effective teamwork, such as active listening, open communication, and effective discussion. One example of this growth stems from my senior seminar class when I worked on an open-source project with a group of my classmates. I was an active and engaged member of the team, contributing my ideas and expertise in team meetings to foster productivity. I made a conscious effort to communicate openly with my teammates and actively listen to the problems they faced even when we worked in smaller teams to ensure success of us all. I have also shown a willingness to take on different roles and responsibilities within the team and to contribute my skills and expertise to achieve common goals. For instance, I did not hesitate to abandon my issue temporarily to help other members resolve their issues and provide constructive feedback when needed. Similarly, I was open to asking for help from other members when I faced issues or even just to double-check my work. I understood that this level of flexibility and adaptability is critical in a team setting, and I was committed to being a team player. To an extent, I believe that I was able to contribute to a positive and productive team dynamic, which allowed us to work efficiently and effectively toward our shared goals.

Moving away from the goals of a computer science major, I’d like to touch on the mission of Dickinson, and how I strive to adhere to it. One aspect of the mission of Dickinson education is to prepare students to be engaged global citizens. Through my coursework and extracurricular activities, I have developed a strong sense of social responsibility and a desire to make a positive impact in the world. For example, I participated in a hackathon where my team developed a full-stack web application that helps people track their carbon footprint from the trips they take by recording users’ past trip information and their respective carbon emission levels. It aims to help users think more carefully about the mode of transportation they wish to take when planning a trip. The inspiration for this comes from Google Flights, as it has a metric that displays the amount of CO2 produced for each trip, whereas Google Maps does not have that feature. I thought that this feature which allows travelers to know the amount of carbon emission their mode of transportation would generate can help them make more educated decisions when it comes to traveling. Thus, aiming to contribute to the cause of sustainability and promote eco-friendly traveling. This experience taught me the importance of using my technical skills to address real-world problems and to make a positive impact in my community.

My experiences and education at Dickinson have prepared me for a successful career in computer science. More importantly, they have instilled in me a sense of social responsibility and a desire to use my skills to make a positive impact in the world. As I move forward in my academic and professional journey, I am committed to continuing to use my skills and knowledge to contribute to a better world, and I am grateful to Dickinson for providing me with the opportunities and resources to do so.

[phantomtutor]

HCM 1143Research Paper The paper for HCM 1143 is to view one of the movies listed below and write a research paper on an aspect of the film related to healthcare administration. Movies The DoctorPatch AdamsOne Flew Over The Cuckoo’s NestArticle 99Something the Lord madeJohn QAnd the Band Played on Other Movie With Prior Instructor Approval PAPER Title should mention Movie name​You will write a research paper on a problem or solution in healthcare administration. Write a brief introduction summarizing the movie. Make certain to point out the central conflict or problem related to healthcare. Your thesis statement is related to Healthcare Administration – How it was part of the problem, what it could do to fix the problem, etc. Required aspects are highlighted.• Please do not just summarize the movie; that will result in a very low grade. Relate the movie to Healthcare Administration. This can be to identify, clarify, and /or solve a problem in healthcare related to the content• A clear thesis is necessary. Be sure to state clearly the main point and make sure that all your research and supporting points back it up.• Address the entity(s) able to provide a remedy for the scenario whether regulatory, managerial, or in other ways.• As a general rule, when I say you must do a thorough exploration of the topic, that means that someone reading your paper who is unfamiliar with the topic does not finish with unanswered questions and a greater understanding of your original thoughts, backed by research.• Papers that are not researched are based on opinion, and if you could rely on what you knew before taking a class, why would you need an education?• All text is to be double-spaced, 12 point font, Times New Roman.• Plagiarism is NOT tolerated. If you use more than a few words from the text (or another source) you MUST cite using quotation marks and appropriate in-text citations in APA style.• Most of the information in written assignments can be summarized in your own words. Be careful to note, when you use data or statistics, it MUST be cited. Otherwise, I am to assume you came up with that information on your own.• There should be both in text citations and a bibliography• Your citations may be limited, but you must have at least three credible sources, plus the citation for the movie itself. You must cite the movie. The strongest papers will back up the fictional concepts with real life, cited examples and other relevant cited information.• Keep scrolling down to view correct citation information for a textbook. • There is no length requirement, but the fullness of the topic must be explained. A good rule of thumb is at least 3-4 pages of content, not counting title and bibliography.Clearly, if your introduction takes a full page, your points cannot be proven in only a few paragraphs in order to be considered thorough. See the paper template for more guidance• PROOFREAD Once you finish, edit to make sure your sentences make sense and are grammatically correct. Simple spell checking is not enough​ Paper TitleOklahoma State University – Oklahoma CityHCM 1143 Penny Ridenour Student NameDate References (APA example of textbook references)Shi, L. (2007). Managing human resources in health care organizations. Sudbury, MA: Jones & Bartlett Learning Citing in-textShi (2007) states “insert direct quotation here” (p. 37).Notice the following about this in-text citation:1) Only author’s last name is used, followed by year of publication in parenthesis2) No period inside quotation marks3) Page number in parenthesis immediately following the quote, and a period after the closed parenthesis.NOTE: There are many online citation generators online. In addition, Microsoft Word has one built in. Here is a youtube video on how to use. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CnVq_BpwP2E&authuser=0Research Paper Rubric4 90-100 pts3 80-89 pts2 60-79 pts0-60 pts Your Essay was a full exploration of the subject matter• Clear thesis• Referenced appropriate material

and source• Convincing point(s)• Authority to change explored• Excellent grammar• Proper citation Your Paper explored the subject matter• Thesis present• Referenced appropriate material and sources• Good grammar• citation Your paper explored the subject matter You attempted the assignment ORDER THIS PAPER NOW. 100% CUSTOM PAPER CategoriesAPA 7th edition, English Leave a Reply Cancel replyYour email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *Comment * Name * Email * Website Save my name, email, and website in this browser for the next time I comment. Post navigation Previous PostPrevious Instructions: NEED ASSIGNMENT BY SUNDAY PLEASE please TLMT311 Topic is  the impoNext PostNext Topic selected comparing Average Length of Stay between Acute Care and Not Acute

[mortellanarts]

🎶Now Playing: 4. Digital Root

digital root (math) :

Mastering the digital root concept can help you achieve better grades at school, this is because it can be used to check that your answers to arithmetic problems are correct

@999week

[wizkiddx]

work with me

this is for @worldoftom 'lolbrosgetsicktoo' challenge event thing - go check it out bcos lots of much better writers have got involved too✨! I'm v new to these things but I tried :) the prompt was: 'would you quit whining and just get in the bath' . (also look at me acc posting sort of regularly, who'd of thought?!?!)

warnings: sickness / fever (more dramatic than it needs to be) / LOTS of medical inaccuracies

summary: when tom doesn't take advice and ends up very ill, very far from home, there's one person whose stuck dealing with it

“Please Tom… I need you to work with me!”

It wasn’t his fault he was being a complete nightmare, though your patience was wearing off somewhat.

For context, you were in Morocco, where he had been filming part of his next film, which only made trying to take care of him that bit harder.

Everyone got ill sometimes. It wasn’t his fault.

That was the mantra ringing through your head, even if you had a more challenging time believing it. Tom wasn’t stupid, as much as he liked to joke about it. HOWEVER, what he was less good at was heeding warnings. He was a white boy in Morrocco; the health and safety briefing had literally been aimed at him. Had he taken the advice not to eat any dodgy looking meats at the market?

Of course not; that’d be boring.

Everyone else was fine. You’d all sampled Morroccos culture without giving yourselves the worst case of food poisoning you’d ever witnessed. But not Tom - possibly one of the only ‘indispensable’ people on the set. If you, or one of the minor characters, or even the director, had got ill - the show could continue.

When you’d been rudely awoken by your phone going off, you’d known instantly. It was as if you’d told him not to take a bite out of the weird burger once you were away from the eager view of the street vendor. Sure enough, with bleary eyes, you hissed at the brightness of the phone screen before seeing ‘Tom H’ on the screen.

“Y/n?” His voice was croaky, but just from the single call of your name, it was clear he was feeling sorry for himself.

“Are you okay? It’s late T.”

“Um I… can you come over? You…you might need the key I’m - um- in the bathroom.”

As his stylist, it technically wasn’t part of your job description to also be mother when he was sick, but (unfortunately for you) after the 3 years working side by side with him - you were also friends.

Which you were almost regretting by the second time rinsing the toilet bowl clean after he’d evacuated what seemed to be the majority of his vital organs into it. Honestly, it was impressive how he managed to keep going.

That had been at around 4 in the morning- the doctor had been called at 8, coinciding beautifully with his 5th toilet extravaganza. Once the doctor had confirmed your original, if completely unqualified, diagnosis of food poisoning - you hadn’t been able to bite your tongue. Perhaps an ‘i told you so’ might’ve slipped past your lips, but Tom was a bit too out of it to argue back.

You’d been given firm advice from the doctor - he said little sips of water, rest and control his temperature. It all had seen pretty simple - though the action? Not so much.

It wasn’t his fault, yet Tom was not super compliant. You and Harry had both been taking turns in practically forcing him to take sips of water, having to turn off ‘modern family’ till he did. The blackmail had put you both in his bad book.

Honestly, thank the lord Harry was here too. You’d woken him up at seven, begging for help and since then, you’d tagged teamed. While one was looking after Tom, the other was phoning the director, the doctor, and the crew to inform them of the current situation.

Again, of all people. Why’d it have to be Tom?

Mainly because you knew how mortifying he found this. He didn’t like people fussing over him, never had. He liked to work hard, liked to make people happy - definitely didn’t like to feel a burden. Perhaps what made him feel ten times worse was that he knew he was inconveniencing the whole production team massively.

And yes, as you’d unhelpfully reminded him, it was ‘his fault’.

The lavish hotel room, big bathroom and pretty efficient AC still didn’t manage to mask the pungent in-the-back-of-your-throat smell from the bathroom. At the doctor’s advice, who had been a little concerned at Toms fever, Harry had cranked the AC on high. It had forced you to steal one of Tom’s big hoodies and a pair of joggers- you hadn’t left his room since he first called you, still wearing your tiny pyjama shorts and an old tee.

“Please turn the air con off.” His little voice whined from where he was lying, huddled up under the covers. Perched on the other side of the double bed, but over the covers with your laptop on his lap, you could actually feel him shivering with the chills. It felt like you were torturing the poor boy.

“T you know I can’t. It’ll make your fever worse.” The way he looked up at you, like a little Labrador that you were refusing to pet, actually pained your heart.

Okay, so yes it was his fault, but you weren’t mad, you just felt so awful for him.

“Please I’ll- I’ll pay you more.” His voice was hoarse; though he denied a sore throat, it sounded like the constant sickness was burning his windpipe.

“Tommm” you pouted, sticking your bottom lip out “I don’t want your money, want you to get better.”

Apparently giving up, brown eyes shot you the filthiest look in disappointment, rolling to face away from you. You thought he was giving you the silent treatment in a huff, but instead, he was praying on the weaker one.

“Harry, I’ll buy you that set of golf clubs-“

“NO!” You had to interrupt before Harry would say yes - because from the way his younger brother shot up from the arm chair, he was about to. Scowling eyes slowly focused back on you in annoyance, making you huff - shutting the laptop and kneeling on the bed to face him. After pressing the back of your palm to his forehead, which was scorching hot, you sighed. “I know you feel shitty and I’m so so sorry but I’m trying to make you better. So shut up, drink this and go to sleep!”

Like a child scorned, you received another death glare however, then he complied, taking a sip of the water you offered before lying back - huddling even tighter.

And it had been relatively peaceful for a few hours; Tom seemed to be getting some sleep - even if he was tossing and turning. Eventually, a prescription that the doctor had requested worked its way through the system, Harry getting a text to say he could go pick it up. The nearest pharmacy was probably a 30 minute drive from the hotel, so he left as soon as.

This left you alone with Tom, where the situation only descended into more chaos.

Almost as soon as Harry had left, Tom had stirred with a grunt. All it took was one look at his face for you to know. Both of you leapt up and flew into the toilet, Tom once again getting very familiar with the Moroccan toilet bowl.

This time though, when he had leant backwards, he’d sort of lost control and flopped most the way - you catching him before he could hit his head on the tiled floor.

“Woah, easy there!” It wasn’t like he’d passed out, but the look in his eye as he slumped into your lap… he wasn’t all there either. “Hey Tom… you with me? Tom?”

Lazily he blinked up at you, not really replying except for groans of half-formed words.

Deciding this had all got a bit direr, you almost sprinted back into the room, grabbing your phone and returning. He was still on the floor, his thumb and first finger pressing into each eye - groaning again.

“Hey Tom? I’m gonna call the doctor you need anything?” He whined in response, stopping only when you stroked his sweaty hair back, most of your attention on dialling the correct number.

The solution he’d given wasn’t pretty: Tom’s fever was too high hence why he was all woozy and groany. Until the doctor could get over with the stronger medications, you needed to lower his temperature in other ways or take him to hospital. He’d absolutely hate hospital, but the other choice? Boy, was he not going to like it either.

Ignoring Tom’s croaked question of what you were doing, you busied yourself switching on the bath taps. You let the water run until it was the right (very mild) temperate, then turned back to Tom, who’d managed to work himself up to sit against the sink unit.

“The doctor says you need it.” His brain was foggy, his mind was slow but your tone told him enough to know something was wrong with the bath. “Just take your clothes off and then I’ll help you-“

“Absolutely fucking not.” Good. He was still with it enough to argue.

“I am just as uncomfortable as you are Tom, but we both know you can’t stand up without fainting, so you are going to need my help.”

“Y/n!”

“Keep your boxers on and it’s just like a fitting! I’ve seen you have those before!”

It was clear as day just how emasculated he felt, especially because he knew you were right. Sitting up at this current moment was a push; there was no way he was getting in the bath without some help. Defeatedly he nodded, but gave you a piercing look to turn around before he started wiggling himself out of the flannel pyjama trousers and light cotton t-shirt. Most confusingly, he still felt freezing cold, yet he had long since learned not to argue with you - especially when your justification came from the advice of a doctor.

Your cue to turn around came in the form of an extra angry-sounding grunt- the look you got when you did wasn’t much better either. It was a weird contrast, though, having someone who physically appeared so indestructible (a superhero for crying out loud); to have been absolutely beaten to a pulp by a few mouth fulls of weird meat. You had seen his bare torso before, although it still wasn’t something easy to get used to - making you clench your teeth together just slightly. A very welcome view.

Perhaps you looked just a little too long at the man who was technically your boss, hunched angrily on the floor in nothing but his calvins - another grunt shaking you out of it. By now, the bath was almost full and you hurried to shut off the water, feeling your cheeks heat up as you cursed silently to yourself.

“Okay come on, gimme your arm.” Begrudgingly Tom followed your request, slinging his arm heavily over your shoulder as you crouched beside him. As strong as he looked, you knew right now he felt powerlessly weak - all that muscle was just going to be almost dead weight.

Now it was your turn to grunt and groan as you pulled Tom up to stand, him focusing on blinking away the headrush he got.

“Come on T work with me here.” Getting him to the side of the bath wasn’t too difficult, the issue came when he stepped with one foot into the bath and yelped, instantly withdrawing as if it was a literal ice bath.

The sudden movement had you both losing balance, ending with Tom sitting on the edge of the bath and you leaning over him, in between his legs, and slapping your hand on the wall opposite purely so you both didn’t end up in the bath.

“Tom!”

“It’s like ice water!”

“Its lukewarm like the doctor said!”

“It is not its from the fucking arctic!”

“Oh for god sake!” Exasperated, you paced up and down the bathroom shaking your head at his ridiculousness. This was ALL. HIS. FAULT.

You came back to him with an ultimatum.

“It’s this or the doctor said I had to drag your ass to hospital.”

“Nooooooo.” The 25 year old seemed to convert into a whiny three year old again.

“Those are the two options. So will you PLEASE quit complaining and get in the bath.”

Keeping up the toddler persona, Tom huffed but reluctantly nodded in agreement - you had come up trumps. It didn’t stop him yelping when you helped to lower him in. His breath was shaky, as a response to the ‘cold’, but he was firming it. At least when you felt his forehead after a couple of minutes, it certainly seemed as though the fever was starting to ease off .

“You can go if you want.” His voice was murmured and as you looked up at him, he did his very best to avoid your gaze.

“Not a chance, if you drown on my watch, Nikki will never forgive me.” At the very least he seemed to appreciate your joke, scoffing a little with a small nod. “If you don’t want me here I get it. As soon as Harry’s back, I’ll swap with him.”

“No! It’s not that its… I’m just an ass when I’m ill.”

“A self aware ass, though.” Again he chuckled a little, as you folded your arms on the edge of the porcelain tub, resting your head lying to one side. “You had me pretty scared there for a moment, you know?”

He nodded a little, creating a wave of ripples in the water which you watched to avoid his gaze - which you knew was tracing all your features inquisitively.

“Hey it’s in the job description, always a bit dramatic... I’m sorry though I should never of called you- don’t know why I didn’t just get Harry.” In response you tutted, taking a moment to lean up and push his sweaty curls back a bit.

Just because you could, it was allowed in this moment.

“’m glad you did.”

“Yeh me too” He sighed, eyes fluttering shut in the easy silence of the bathroom. You kept a vigilant eye on him for the next 20 minutes, checking the temperature of his forehead using the back of your hand, whilst he seemed to finally get a bit of proper restbite, appearing like the worst had passed. You had no idea what was taking Harry so long; in fact it was the doctor that arrived first- who you ran to let in (not wanting to leave Tom asleep in the bath one bit).

Whilst the doctor did all his checks, taking his temperature properly this time, satisfied that it was much more manageable. He still wanted to set him up with some oral rehydration rescue packs to get his hydration status a bit better and give some anti-sickness tablets and antipyretics.

Having actually been getting some rest before all the prodding and poking, Tom was back to being a grumbling dick - now not wanting to leave the bath (the irony was real - making you roll your eyes). Once again, he appeared embarrassed to have you see him like this, so you left the doctor to help him get out and changed- instead going down to reception to get a fresh set of sheets, as he’d done a pretty impressive job of sweating through the old ones.

Even if tired and grumpy, when Tom exited the bathroom, he looked much better - he was walking himself without the doctor’s help. Which honestly was such a relief because when he had passed out on you, you genuinely were terrified. Thankfully the doctor stayed for the next 20 or so minutes, which was just when Harry returned with a bag of medications - which were now wholly redundant, given the doctor had already supplied everything.

“What happened?” Harry asked you in a hushed voice, whilst Tom was distracted with getting his medications. Recounting the story of Tom pretty much passing out, Harry grimaced for you, then launching over to give you a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” That was a novel idea, you hadn’t really thought about yourself at all - but honestly, you were a bit shaken, having been running on adrenalin for most of the night.

“I-uhm… yeh I think so… just-just was a bit scared, I guess? Felt bad too because he didn’t want me there but-“

“I can promise you Y/n, he did want you there. Just probably embarrassed he wasn’t all manly and that…” With a nod, you smiled softly at the frizzy-haired boy.

Whilst working with Tom, it also meant getting pretty close to his younger brother. The two Hollands were almost attached at the hip, which you were very much okay with.

It was weird though... your relationships were completely different. Harry was just your brother, through and through. He wound you up like a sibling but also knew you as if he had your whole life. With Tom… it wasn’t that. Arguably, you were closer to Tom, but on a different level. It was more exciting, more nerve-wracking and heartwarming all at the same time. Honestly, you couldn’t get your head around it properly.

“Hey, you’re probably shattered. Why don’t you go back to your room and get some sleep? I got it in here.” You knew Hary was trying to offer something nice, and now all the excitement had worn off, you were unbelievably shattered. But you didn’t like the idea of not being there, as a just in case.

“Uhm, I think I might just stay, you know?” And he did, with a deliberate, knowing smile, he nodded.

He knew you were worried. He knew Tom had really really scared you. He also knew how much you cared about his brother.

Just like how Harry knew Tom wanted you there, even if he felt embarrassed. Well, anyone would- when you are passing out half-naked in front of the one person that really matters.

It was just at this point that the doctor was done, giving Harry instructions about the rest of the day, when you made a beeline for the bed. Tom was propped up against the headboard, still with a pale sullen look and tired eyes, but a bit less clammy and more human. He cracked a smile as you crawled up onto the other side of the bed, kneeling next to him.

“How’re you doin’?”

“All drugged up, just feel fucking exhausted.” Instinctively you reached up to feel his forehead, really appreciating the fact it felt almost normal.

“Join the club mate, I had a 5am wake up call too.” You almost whispered, intending to make Tom laugh, but instead only getting a pout.

“I am sorry, a-are you going to go back to your room?”

“Nah” Tom’s eyes didn’t light up, except the fact that they very much did. “Can’t trust you not to get into trouble while I’m gone Holland.”

“Thanks.” He laughed weakly before shimmying down on the bed, so he was much more comfortable. “And thankyou, I-I’m sorry I’m a dickhead and made your life-“

“Shut up Tom!” Laughing, you lightly slapped his arm, also leaning down on the bed, so you were lying facing him. “You’re all feverish; go to sleep before you say something stupid.”

There was a long pause, Tom just gazing deep into your eyes, because he was pretty sure what he was thinking was nothing to do with the dodgy unidentified meat he’d had the evening before.

“What... like asking you out?”

…..

“Maybe that wouldn’t be so stupid.”

~~~~im really not sure how I feel about this one, let me know what you thought ;) ~~~~

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter@hollandfanficlove

[wherethingscomebackx]

Top 25 Larry Fics of 2020

h 2020 was HELLISH. So thank you to all the writers, and I mean ALL of them, who kept us occupied as the world continues to burn.

You may be familiar with these lists:

Top 25 Larry fics of 2016

Top 25 Larry fics of 2017

Top 25 Larry fics of 2018

Top 25 Larry fics of 2019

We’re going on our 5th year!!  As always, I read a lot of fic and the majority of it is Larry. I like making lists and I like Larry so I thought I’d do some minimal research of the top 25 larry fics published/completed in 2020 in order of least to most kudos (with links). All of these fics are top notch so you should all check them out!

25.) a trail of honey through it all by @yvesaintlourent (27k)

The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.

Or, the TPH fic we’ve all been waiting for.

24.) even the best laid plans by @falsegoodnight (25k)

“Anyways,” Louis stresses, narrowing his eyes, “just let me say it and then rate how terrible of an idea it is on a scale from one to ten.”

“Alright,” Zayn agrees, sitting up expectantly.

“I want to ask Harry Styles to take my virginity,” Louis blurts, holding his hands out for emphasis.

The way Zayn’s eyes bulge is almost comical. “Negative infinity,” he says, voice choked. “Negative infinity times negative infinity.”

“Technically, a negative times a negative is -”

“Really negative infinity,” Zayn corrects himself, shaking his head wildly. “Louis, what the fuck?”

-

Or, Louis wants to have sex with someone and decides Harry is the perfect alpha for the job.

23.) A Distant Hazy Light by @greenfeelings (76k)

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

22.) Ghost Note Symphony by whoknows (96k)

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago.

It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to.

That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

21.) Until by @allwaswell16 (38k)

Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.

20.) Strangers in Love by sweetums (42k)

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

-

Prompt 51: An amnesia fic where louis and harry were enemies to lovers but after an accident, louis only remembers those memories that him and harry hated each other. now harry has to fix it. I think something like this less dark and less angsty compared to other amnesia fics and it could be funny

19.) A Long Way From The Playground by Pink_Sunsets (170k)

One Direction is broken up. They broke up five years ago. That should be the end of the story, right?

Harry is finished with One Direction. He now has a new life, one with two kids and a successful solo career. And he’s happy.

But a call one night from management flips Harry’s whole new life upside down, and he’s forced to face the life he had left behind.

As well as a certain blue eyed man who had left him behind.

18.) my love’s not simple (it’s fragile) by @falsegoodnight (27k)

“Can I take you out tomorrow?” he asks. “My shift ends at 7 but we can go for dinner at 8.”

Louis is silent for a few seconds and then, “Like… on a date?”

Harry swallows thickly. He hasn’t done this in years, hasn’t ever wanted to. “Yeah.”

He’s worried he’s misread things but then Louis raises his head to kiss Harry’s cheek. “Yeah,” he says easily. “Sure.”

Tension leaves his body swiftly. “Are you sure?” asks Harry. “I know we’re both so busy but I can’t not try with you, Lou.”

“Neither can I,” says Louis. “I think we can figure it out. I care about you a lot Harry. We’ve known each other for a week, but I already like you so much.”

-

Or Harry's new job is threatened by his impending rut. Desperate for a solution, he allows Niall to introduce him to Louis, an omega whose heat begins the same day. They click.

17.) Cocaine for Breakfast by @harryeatsburger (309k)

“It’s an easy job.” He continues, as if Louis wants to listen. “Like I said, a few trips. Parties, students, nothing dramatic.”

Louis gazes over to Harry. He’s looking thoughtful now, eyes on the green like he’s talking more to himself than Louis.

“Clubbing, drinks. Whatever, the business is just a side thing.”

That’s not how Louis remembers it to be, “You lying?” He honestly can’t tell.

Harry shakes his head slowly, meeting Louis' eyes.

“No,” He answers almost toneless. Harry clears his throat, “I won’t put you in any dangerous situation.” His voice is sincere, Louis can tell he means it, his jade green eyes glinting with truth.

or, - Louis Tomlinson is a drug addict, sent away from his beloved party-scene to recover. There, he discovers that small towns have just as much access to drugs as London did, plus something even better that he just can't get enough of. That something is a boy with green eyes and bouncy curls named Harry Styles. -

16.) Tastes like Strawberries by @sadaveniren (4k)

I’m stressed. I’m nesting and demand cuddles. Come over

Harry frowned and double checked who the text was from. Yup, it still said Louis - Grad, which meant it was from Louis from his grad school.

aka Louis texts Harry by mistake. It works out

15.) the way the storm blows by @rbbsbb (21k)

Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.

That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.

14.) bruise you like a peach by @falsegoodnight (40k)

There’s two reasons Harry despises Econ.

The first is that it’s boring as fuck. The second reason is a bit more personal, a bit more focused in a way. As in it’s focused on one specific thing, or in his case, person.

His name is Louis Tomlinson.

13.) Watching The World Fall by whoknows (11k)

This segment has been going on long enough that Louis knows what’s coming before James starts in on it, trying to sell him on something he knows that Louis wouldn’t normally be buying. But there’s four cameras surrounding him, and an audience watching him expectantly, so if Louis wants to continue convincing people that he’s doing just fine, he’s going to have to go along with it.

“We have a whole host of single men backstage waiting to meet you, Louis,” James tells him. “We want to help you find love tonight, on Late Late Live Tinder. Is this okay? Do you want to play?”

It actually kind of makes sense that his first date after the break-up is going to be just as public as said break-up. Something like coming full circle.

“Alright, James,” Louis agrees, hopping down off his stool.

“Okay, come down to the stage,” James says. Louis can’t even tell whether the excitement in his voice is genuine or not. “Right now, come on down!”

12.) Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2 (38k)

Broadway shows were one of the few things that could keep Louis’ attention for a full two hours without needing to move about. But not tonight.

The alpha next to him was both infuriating him and practically turning him on at the same time. He needed to leave. The alpha, that is. Louis was staying.

Or the one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry.

11.) The Wrath of the Emerald Eyes by @purpledandeli0n (85k)

His chin is grabbed harshly, facing the two deep green eyes that have been getting on his nerves for the past ten minutes. The smirk on the man's face does not vanish. The grip of his hand on Louis' chin does not soften, his thumb at the side of his lower lip.

His smile widens as he answers Louis' question, ''My name is Styles, but you will call me Captain."

•

Pirate AU

10.) Canyon Moon by @eeveelou (40k)

For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.

Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind.

An A/B/O Lion King AU

9.) We Both Got Nothing to Hide by lovelarry10 (43k)

“Talk to me, Lou.”

“I can’t,” Louis mumbled, knowing he genuinely couldn’t say it. He couldn’t admit to what he was doing. “Don’t ask me to say it, because I can’t.”

“Then… I’ll try and guess. You’ve… got some stuff of Harry’s. Something of his to make it smell like him?”

Louis just nodded, eyes fixated on the floor. This was humiliating, but he knew Zayn wouldn’t stop until he found out what was going on.

“Okay. Like… a blanket, or a comforter or something?”

“Kind of…”

//

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

8.) sleeping on our problems by @falsegoodnight (67k)

I’m in love with you, Louis thinks. He feels empty, weighed down by his sadness and the loss of Harry inside him just moments ago before his knot finally went down.

There’s moments where he’s sure Harry feels the same. Like now, when he’s gazing down at Louis with so much adoration and tenderness. It’s like they’re both on the cusp of something more, but neither of them ever say a word.

His confession is on the tip of his tongue ready to slide out like honey, and yet he remains silent. They both do, looking at each other and recognizing the reluctance mirrored in each other’s eyes. It’s then that Louis realizes they’re both scared.

-

Or Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.

7.) like it’s a game by @soldouthaz (32k)

there is little harry hates more than truth or dare.

and louis.

6.) before we knew by @falsegoodnight (39k)

“C’mon Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?”

Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles.

It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it.

He hates everything about his supposed soulmate.

He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples.

-

Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

5.) Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo (114k)

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

4.) You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by @harryrainbows (95k)

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

3.) The Space Between by @lads-laddylads (39k)

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

2.) Nothing But You On My Mind by @absoloutenonsense (83k)

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

1.) Collision by @tequiladimples (224k)

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

[tragedy-for-sale]

I Miss my Brother

Featuring: Wrecker's internal monologue

I made a post some time again that explained Crosshair has to be a mathlete due to his sharp-shooter skills. Then recently, I came up with the idea that Tech always has Crosshair double check his downtime math. But since Crosshair isn't there, Tech's one wrong answer away from losing his shit. Also- another headcanon: Wrecker is very good with emotions, not his own, but others. He's good at comforting and can read someone's mood real quick.

◈ ━━━━━━ ◆ ━━━━━━ ◈

There are very few things that'll wake up Wrecker in an instant. A crashing ship, Crosshair's laugh, and Echo's cold metal feet against his not metal and not cold body. Oh, and of course, a cry. Yes, those are the four things that will get Wrecker up in a second. Which is why, when he heard a whimper, his eyes shot open. He sat up quietly, 'When they're upset, be slow and quiet, it'll keep them from giving into their stubborn instincts to shove everything down-'

Wrecker scanned the room and found Tech sitting at their fold out table, with several papers spread before him and the fast clicking of a calculator. 'Shit. He's doing math.' Wrecker would never understand how Tech stays on the ship to do math. 'Crosshair does that too but he just takes out all his snipers and giggles like a creep' Wrecker narrowed his eyes and shook his head, not the point. "Uh, Tech?" Wrecker asked.

"I thought I broke my calculator, but it just died." Tech looked up slowly, Tech's goggles had been pushed up, "Then I realized, I cannot use it while it's charging so I fixed that."

"Did you shock yourself or something?" Wrecker asked as he got up and sat across from Tech, who ran his hand through his hair, letting out a sigh.

"No, I've done this problem six times," He looked down and wrote something frantically, "Seven times." He corrected himself. He sounded exhausted, "I can't get passed this problem." Wrecker frowned, 'Tech's not wearing his glasses. Yeah, cause he's gonna cry, why do you think you woke up?!'

"Uh, why?" Wrecker asked as Tech rested his head on the table as he started the problem again. He picked up a piece of paper Tech had covered in the same problem, "I don't see what's wrong, you have plenty of formulas, and those you just plug things into."

"I don't either, Crosshair always checked my math and I know I am correct but I am feeling a great amount of discomfort without his reassurance." Tech whined as he erased his work and started to do the same problem again, for the eighth time, "Also... I'm not correct this time, I have gotten a different answer every time and I cannot figure out why."

Wrecker bit his check, sadness settling in as he watched Tech work frantically, he was stressing himself out, and when Tech stresses out, 'he'll psyche himself out which'll stress him out more. Tech: needs a solution as comfort, hugs won't comfort him, so don't hug him unless he hugs you!' Wrecker nodded to the voice in his head. 'Other solution bud!'

"You're stressed, you should take a quick break." Wrecker suggested.

"No, no I don't need a break, I need to figure out what I am doing wrong." Tech shook his head. Wrecker nodded, he could tell by the look of pure dismay on Tech's face, he was one more wrong answer away from a breakdown. Wrecker continued to watch Tech and tilted his head as Tech snapped his pencil, he grabbed his glasses and slammed them down, they hit the table and bounced to the floor, "I need Crosshair!" He cried, burying his head in his hands, 'I'm not as good as he is.'

"But he's not here-"

"Don't you think I know that?!" Tech hissed, looking up, Wrecker's mouth opened slightly, he hated seeing Tech so unhappy. It didn't even matter that Tech had yelled at him, 'He's in pain, and I'm not the brother he needs. What would the others do?,'

Wrecker begun to think, 'Echo: he'd sit there, pat him on the back, try to learn it and do it for Tech. No no, that wouldn't work, even if Echo solved it correctly, Tech wants to solve it himself and Echo won't remember what he did. So no on Echo, got it! Hunter: He'd make Tech take a break, he needs it, he's literally crying Wrecker! I know, Wrecker but that'll just postpone the solving of this problem and that stresses him out. So no on Hunter too, I guess? Okay, what about Omega? Omega? Wrecker, do you really wanna make her worry? Kid's don't solve grown-up problems, especially emotionally ones, we're all doing pretty shitty in that department so let's not make her think she has any other job besides being our child. Wait- was that Hunter's voice, what's he doing here?-'

Wrecker looked around, Hunter wasn't here, it was just him and Tech. Wait- he knew Hunter wouldn't be back for a while. Wait, not the point, Wrecker! He looked to his brother, 'Aw man, he's really not okay. Hurry up! Okay, okay, uh, us? Us?! Well, okay leeme think, Wrecker: Good at hugs, not as smart as Tech so I couldn't learn it on my own, I don't wanna postpone Tech's stress 'cause he's probably dehydrated and hungry. Not to mention he's been finding excusing not to sleep because without- oh! I know!'

"Oh! I know!" Wrecker looked up with a wide grin, "Teach it to me!" 'I won't understand shit but you'll slow down 'cause you know that makes it easier for me to follow. Hey! We're only talking about you here.' Wrecker made a face, one that disappeared when he saw Tech's face.

"What?" His voice was barely audible, he'd never felt this pathetic. Oh, and his face, it was forever embedded in Wrecker's mind, all the pain Tech easily stowed was so present, all the pain from Crosshair's abscene too. Wrecker had never felt more useless.

"...Uh, yeah, Walk me through the problem, you know how to do it,so by walking me through it, you'll catch whatever's wrong." Wrecker mumbled out, his voice was quiet, partly due to shock, but mainly fear. He didn't have another solution, 'We do actually, it's to pull him into a hug and just let him cry. He needs it, but the last time Tech cried-'

"That's... actually a good idea." Tech said slowly. In that moment, all of Wrecker's growing worry that his brother had finally broke, vanished. Tech slumped his shoulders as he stared at his crumpled papers and snapped pencil. "... It's a good idea, really, it is, but I just can't do this anymore." Tech sighed, standing up.

'Uh... What? That is NOT Tech talking, Wrecker you broke him, you broke our little brother, you big slug, you-' Wrecker's mind then truly stopped working as Tech hugged him. 'NOW THIS REALLY DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE-'

"I'm gonna take a nap instead." Tech mumbled, closing his eyes as he hugged his brother, "I need a very long nap that is actually classified as sleeping." Wrecker slowly nodded, as he wrapped his arms around Tech.

"...Yeah, we can do that." Wrecker said slowly as he walked them to a bed. "We can take a nap, that's an awesome idea Tech." Wrecker yawned, leaning back. "You're super cool and smart and occasionally funny and-" Wrecker had rambled but as they dozed to sleep, all he could say was, "..and I love you."

"I love you, too."

◈ ━━━━━━ ◆ ━━━━━━ ◈

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

i saw your post about Charles and what his personality past and part in the story line so i was wondering if u could do the same for vlad? :)

Ah, well, I can at least let you know what I’ve seen so far? I haven’t delved too far into Vlad, and some of his general impressions can be confusing, so I’ll do my best to make it sensible and unbiased! Here you go lovely <33333

Fair warning, there will be mentions of a lot of JPN app content since Vlad and his boys aren’t around much in the ENG app yet.

My general sense of Vlad is basically discount vampire Sasuke Uchiha.

What I mean by this is to say–according to what I’ve read so far–his clan/family were murdered by vampire hunters in cold blood when he was just a young boy. Presumably as a result of that traumatic event, he harbors a sizable enmity towards humanity and kind of lashes out on them in weirdly specific moments of violence. Another aspect of his motivation is something that’s mentioned within Comte’s route; which is that Vlad went through the timespace door on his own one day and allegedly saw a devastated future, where nothing remains of life on earth more or less.

I guess the reason I find him to be so perplexing is that he speaks about his actions in terms of efficiency, while most of the things he does just feel like unhappy outbursts (v often a product of unresolved trauma symptoms, I’d wager.) I also say this because he appears to have no larger pattern to his fury beyond the original event of his loss. Most of the human beings he attacks aren’t much of a threat to him and hurting them really doesn’t bring him any dividends beyond revenge.

For instance, he insists his disdain for humanity and insistence on controlling them is for the sake of ensuring they do not destroy the future–the horrifying wasteland he witnessed when he traveled through the timespace door. However, I’m not really sure how his current movements really speak to that goal? I mean sure, maybe he’s relying on Faust to create an immortal human so that humans will be forced to care because it will be their future too, but he doesn’t allow Faust to draw his pureblood blood for experimenting. (One can most certainly argue this was more about a lack of trust, and perhaps for plenty reason: Faust is vindictive enough to try to turn the tables and exert control over Vlad, or act on his own whims with his findings.) But if that’s the solution he’s waiting on, turning the rivals of the men in the mansion doesn’t really bring him any closer to that vision either? I mean, what good does it do to bring back Gilles de Rais–a prominent French serial killer? How would unleashing him on the populace help humanity “realize the error of it’s short-sighted and wasteful ways” and move to a brighter future?

Can’t help it, I ask these questions as I read.

In Comte’s main story, Comte hammers home that Vlad is not somebody to be taken lightly. One day when MC goes out to buy flowers, Vlad poses as a human florist to sell them to her–which is how Comte finds out he’s in France, and that he’s made contact with MC. When prompted, Comte describes him in a very particular way; and I think people really overlook this when they talk about their relationship. He says that Vlad is frighteningly pure in terms of the way he thinks and acts. The way I understood his description (given what I’ve seen of Vlad) is that Comte really does mean it point blank: Vlad is very simple in terms of why and how he does things. The issue with this is that nuance and context are lost on Vlad as well–and that’s where the problems start to flood in. Vlad is angry at humanity for what they’ve done to him. Baseline? That’s fair, they killed his damn family. However, Vlad thinks that by extension he has the right to decimate the general public and attack people completely uninvolved in his hurt.

And that isn’t right either–it’s ignoring so many factors here. He’s ignoring how much vampires use and toy with humans as pawns, it’s ignoring the massive power imbalance between him and his victims (this really isn’t a case of self-defense most of the time, nobody but Comte/Leo is a sizable threat to him), and he’s ignoring whether or not a person even did anything to deserve his retributive violence. While murder is never okay, it is perhaps more understandable when we see Jeanne’s frenzied and violent belligerence in response to a man who murders a boy’s mother for the sake of his own amusement/convenience. Vlad literally sees almost every single one of the rivals he created begin to heal/improve and murders them in cold blood because they are no longer of any use to him. That’s uh……..that’s a little messed, not gonna lie to you chief.

While part of me understands the efficiency here–he doesn’t want to leave any traces of his involvement, he doesn’t want any loose ends–it’s also just kind of foolish and cruel ultimately. From my understanding of the narrative, all the people he turned had some visible sign that indicated their origin to Comte. So even if he claims it was for the sake of concealment, it was more likely about his personal convenience. Which…..also yikes.

[Comte clearly does not trust Vlad to be reasonable, and I think there’s plenty of good reason enumerated above, but I actually don’t sense quite so much hatred? I think he’s just given up on the idea of Vlad growing up, even if he doesn’t like giving up on people. And considering Vlad’s behavior, I think it’s overkill to say that Comte just abandons him because he doesn’t care lmao. Even when Comte expresses real anger at the end of his own route, it was more because Vlad was fine with endangering MC’s life just to get back at him. I think Comte’s unhappiness with Vlad has more to do with Vlad’s treatment of human life as meaningless and worthless. It’s fascinating but also kind of sad? Vlad’s traumatic experience results in behavior that is a direct exacerbation of Comte’s trauma, and as such--no matter their potentially fond history--they can’t stomach each other.]

In Comte’s route, Vlad also has Shakespeare abduct MC and take her to the cathedral. Later on in the castle, we see an immediate display of Vlad’s shocking powers: he has the ability to manipulate people’s desires/thoughts. I’m not exactly sure how this works, but he is able to give MC visions of the mansion and Comte coming on to her–which shocks her into realizing it’s all just a dream. It’s not reality; it’s all manufactured by Vlad.

After that...weird introductory note...Vlad gives MC the rundown on his life together with Comte, which as always is subject to a question of bias. My assumption is that he did not lie, only because he was trying to convince MC that he was “right.” Furthermore, he does not omit the most damning evidence of his erroneous judgement, which suggests a continued inability for him to see where he went wrong.

We get a series of three flashbacks. The first is them as young kids. I don’t know if Vlad had already experienced the horrors of his family being destroyed, but this particular flashback focuses on Comte. His parents, in an effort to teach him that vampires and humans have no ability to co-exist, send away all of his teachers/mentors/nannies/the servants--pretty much everyone and anyone he was closely bonded to. Think about it this way: we can see that Comte is very sociable and affectionate by nature. He was living in a house full of people, all of whom cared about him and looked after him in their own way. Now the house is entirely empty. Naturally Comte is very very upset, and Vlad appears to try to cheer him up with little success. 

[When I look back on this scene I don’t think I initially registered the sheer dissonance of Vlad’s reaction, versus Comte’s catatonic misery. There was a very solemn feeling to that memory, and the correct choice in terms of extending comfort is to hold his hand believe it or not. There is a sense that he feels very alone. When young boy Vlad enters one can argue that it was the proper thing to do; he was trying to cheer up his playmate and friend. But at the same time, I think I need to double check. Because I’m beginning to wonder if I was wrong. What if Vlad was happy to see someone as alone as him, and that joy is accordingly dissonant for that reason? He can’t see what Comte needs or how he’s hurting because he’s so glad he isn’t alone anymore in a way.]

The second flashback is the war nurse scene that I have spoken at length about. The important thing to focus on here is Vlad’s surprise that Comte would opt out of turning her out of respect for her wishes. The way Vlad frames the situation is starkly different from Comte’s. Comte sees himself as an outsider, somebody who invaded her life as a result of the timespace door and therefore has no right to suddenly change the course of her fate. He had no idea if she even wanted to live (considering the horrors she’d have to cope with and remember) or leave that time period at all, for that matter (considering the only thing keeping her going was helping the wounded/victims). Comte really was listening to everything she had to say, and he was taking her concerns and motivations seriously. 

Vlad simply says: if you want her, take her. It’s as simple as that for him. And in one way that’s not entirely wrong--assuming Comte would have every intention of looking after her and actually cares a lot about her. But what’s being ignored here is her agency and the fact that they really don’t know each other that well? Something like that could begin and be rocky, if it doesn’t end in complete disaster. Worse, I get the feeling Vlad is perfectly fine with the notion of turning her and if things don’t work out, just kill her or get rid of her. Again, the simplistic thinking comes into play here: it ultimately comes down to Vlad being self-centered. He’s thinking only in terms of satisfying his needs, he doesn’t seem to have any concept of a larger pair or group feeling. There’s an inability to bend/be flexible for the sake of maintaining a greater harmonious feeling. 

[For the record, I don’t think this makes him irredeemable? Only that it makes it very hard to live with him or love him, probably. There’s an inability to live at a joint pace? It’s always answering to what he wants without room for anything else most of the time, which to me is not living and it’s not love ;;;;]

Following their escape back to their own time, Vlad explains how he wants to use the door to turn geniuses and control humanity. He eventually wants to create a surveillance state, which would mean everyone is forced to move with his explicit approval, more or less. (He almost reminds me of Louis XIV, can’t tell if that’s what they were going for.) I have my doubts that his abilities could extend that far, but human history shows us that we are plenty susceptible to fascist and totalitarian rhetoric. In a shocking display of anger, Comte draws the line at controlling humanity and forcing them into a regime in which, and this is Vlad’s description not mine, “we (purebloods) would be like kings.” There’s definitely a concept of evolutionary superiority at play here, which echoes what I mentioned earlier; vampires seem to have this awareness that they’re apex predators in a sense, and enjoy the power that comes with that. Unfortunately, that probably makes for a fairly toxic/uncomfortable larger species culture, which is exactly what Comte and Leo hate lmao.

Vlad does not seem to find any issue with this sort of outlook, and asks MC to decide which of them--Vlad or Comte--is right. Who is more realistic, who best understands the future? As expected the MC replies that it's Comte, and Vlad goes from beseeching to big mad at record speed. He's p much that gif of the teddy bear that smacks its head down on the tables and then has the angry eyebrows.

This is where Comte intervenes, firing a warning shot that grazes Vlad's cheek and demanding he let MC go. In response, Vlad shoves MC into the turbulent timespace door--p much guaranteeing MC's death. (Essentially timespace is a void of sorts, a human being could never survive in that environment for long. Vlad fully knew this, and yeeted her anyway.)

So uh, yeah. Disagreement? Death. Moving on? Death. Nuanced approach to reality? Death. Beginning to think he doesn't really have a lot of patience or open-mindedness or any other kind of problem-solving approach. 

He raises flowers and gardens like a fiend, and he openly plucks any single flower with a blemished leaf. Even if a single petal is slightly damaged, it will be removed and destroyed. So one could argue his extremism reflects a kind of perfectionism as well. No room for errors or troublesome dissent. No ugliness of any kind. I mean in all of his interactions with Faust and Charles this is the overt undertone. Don't ask more of me than I'm willing to give. Behave like good children, mommy's busy. Is that insubordination? boss music begins

One thing I actually don't understand very well is his decision making in Dazai's route. Dazai finds out about what Vlad's doing in a nanosecond when he senses MC is in danger, and yet Vlad makes absolutely no move to eliminate Dazai? He just watches from the shadows. Even when Dazai grills Charles about his loyalty to Vlad, no retribution.

My best guess for this specific situation is that Vlad does derive some level of satisfaction thwarting the future of human beings/former humans. Dazai--being somebody with no great desire to live, no rivals to speak of as far as we can tell, and no larger aspirations--is a life that is easily extinguished. There's no satisfaction in it. When Vlad's clan was murdered and he saw the future decimated, it could be that he felt humans had invaded and eradicated every potentiality that was important to him. Where he might have lived happily with his family, that future was ripped from his grasp. Where he might enjoy his flowers and the creation of an immortal for the rest of conceivable time, that too was ripped from his grasp with a desolate future. 

So much about who Vlad is is about control, so it's very possible his lashing out is an extension of that. Dazai does not awaken any of the disdain he feels, and he does not succeed in overthrowing Vlad's control over Charles, so Vlad simply lurks in silence.

And last but not least, I've seen the preview to Vlad's newest birthday event story. The contents are incredibly revealing, in that MC wishing him a happy birthday and offering him a gift has him saying that it was "the best birthday ever." Granted idk if that’s sweet or just...beyond sad, but here we are. It’s only compounding my curiosity about the wound on his chest--I really do wonder if he was attacked and locked away by vampire hunters or hostile human beings or something. I say that only because that line speaks to a lot of isolation, and given how little he seems to care about turning people/subjecting them to his whims it feels odd. Why the isolation or lack of people who care about him? Is it a perceived lack where his actions alienated all the people who wanted to be close to him, or is it a more involuntary lack?

When she says let’s celebrate again next year, he seems a pleasantly shocked by the notion, and remarks “Ah yes, it’s a promise c:”. The preview was also mega horny: “You make me feel so loved, I don’t think I can be gentle with you tonight. If you enjoy it so much, then I won’t stop. I want to see you completely lost for me. I’ll teach your body what it means to be loved by a pureblood.” Aaaaaand pretty sure the CG was alluding to him licking the good stuff from her basement, though not entirely sure given it was only the preview. 

The brief POV they give us is also very revealing:

“You always keep your promises, and I think I underestimate all the time how much you saved me. You are good, only you are good in this world.”

“Will we continue to make promises to each other in the future? Well in that case--you will always, always be mine, my vampire.”

Tbh he’s...v sweet? In his own way? Honestly he feels like a crabapple that is just so sick of the world and wants softe wife to take comfort in. While granted that’s not really my thing, I know a fanbase appeal exists for these types--so if that’s your thing, have at it!

So now that we have reached the end of my ridiculously long analysis (when am I ever brief, I’m so sorry. If you made it all the way here you deserve a cookie at the very least, if not the right to chase me with a bat) perhaps it’s more clear why I said discount vampire Sasuke Uchiha? “My clan is gone, every other second I’m going to be in retraumatization insanity, when I’m not I’ll be seeking power/hobbies, planning the demise of people who wanted the best for me, building a team to my advantage and unquestioned control, and eventually settling for a lifelong love who sees the best in me despite my more difficult moments and perceived hollowing loneliness. Not the most ideal comparison, but I will say if Vlad was not already named the historical figure, would have pointed and yelled Uchiha.

That’s all from me folks, hopefully this was a fun way to get introduced to him? And again, hope I didn’t alienate--I fully respect what people do and don’t enjoy o7

[ouyangzizhensdad]

The Mo Village arc and establishing the MC

MDZS is a sprawling book with many characters, but it seems that it was clearly important to MXTX to establish her MC’s characterisation very strongly from the start. Although the novel in its entirety leans toward providing a strong characterisation for WWX, I thought it’d be fun to look back at how it is conveyed to the readers in the first few chapters before the inciting incident at Dafan Mountain

(N.B. I’m using a composite translation made of different translations so the wording/format might be slightly different than the version you are using)

Framing

The prologue starts with a conversation between unnamed characters in an inn, discussing the news of WWX’s death. While it was a clever way to already introduce an important theme of the novel (the effects of public opinion and how easy it is to make someone into a irredeemable villain) and get the exposition out of the way, it also frames WWX as a character: as readers, we are introduced first to perceptions of him, a characterisation-from-hearsay we’ll be able to compare to his characterisation in the novel. WWX is a “scourge” whose death is celebrated, who “defected” and bit the hand that fed him, a “deranged” killer who took thousands of lives. But before he went on the crooked path, he was a promising youth--although others seem to think he was corrupted from the start.

“But it can’t all be blamed on the path he cultivated. Ultimately, it was still because this Wei Wuxian’s moral character was too flawed, angering the Heavens and man alike! By the heavenly law, everyone answers for their deeds in the end, good and evil……”

The rumours also suggest that if WWX comes back to the world of the living he will enact his revenge upon them all, and his unimaginable powers would allow him to rain fury upon both Heaven and Earth. We get told: this guys is an incredibly powerful villain, reviled and feared by many. 

But the Yiling Laozu had enough power to overturn the Heavens and smother the Earth, move mountains and drain seas—at least, that was the way the rumors went. If he wanted to resist the summoning of his soul, it wouldn’t exactly be outside of his abilities. If in coming days his spirit were restored, if he forcibly possessed a body and were thus reborn, then not only the cultivation world, but all of humanity would inevitably meet with an even greater frenzy of vengeance and curses, sinking into a chaotic age of foul winds and bloody rains.

Establishing WWX and how he reacts when he’s thrown into an unpleasant situation

When WWX is brought back by MXY, we already have something to contrast him against thanks to the hearsay and rumours, and from the get-go we get a sense that WWX is not this fearsome figure that people made him out to be.

I’ll never get over the fact that our first introduction to WWX’s is the equivalent of the “the audacity of this bitch”.

Hazily, he thought: that’s quite a lot of courage you must have to kick this Laozu. 

Our MC and POV character is thrown into a situation, and from his reactions we can rapidly tell that he is someone who is observant, resourceful, good at deductive reasoning and thereby apt at solving mysteries. This is something that is reinforced at many, many points in the first few chapters and helps us buy in into what happens later in the novel when they uncover many other mysteries. WWX is a guy who figures shit out.

When WWX figures out he was summoned as a “an unforgivably evil malicious spirit“, we  get his take on his public perception.  

Wei Wuxian reeled at the implications. How had he been classified as “an irredeemly evil, malicious spirit”?

Yes, his reputation was rather poor and his final moments, horrifying tragic—but he had neither haunted nor had he seeked revenge on the living since becoming a spirit. He would dare to swear upon the Heavens and the Earth that you would never find a more peaceful and well-behaved lonely soul of a wild ghost!

At the same time, readers get a sense that even when he’s dealt a bad hand, WWX does not wait in despair for his luck to turn. Even though WWX describes his situation as “hopeless” and keeps “repeating over and over How could this be! in his heart “, he immediately goes into problem-solving mode, trying to figure out the situation and the wishes MXY forgot to share. This also happens  later. 

There was not a single thing to help him find some joy in being reborn! He might as well sit and meditate for a time, and adjust to the new body.

That same passage gives us a sense that WWX is not rushing into situations without taking the time to take it in, make up his mind and prepare as much as he can: the fact that we see him do meditation twice during that day (before he goes to the East Hall and after he checks on the Lan juniors) also contributes to that idea.

The chapters convey as well that WWX is sympathetic to MXY’s situation and does not resent him even though he forced WWX to enact revenge in his stead. As readers, we thus receive the following message: WWX is not prone to being resentful, to hold grudges.

He had originally wanted to wash his face and pay a few respects to the owner of this body, but there was no water in the shack—neither for drinking nor for washing. 

WWX is also, for a lack of a better word, sassy. It’s clear that he has a flair for the dramatics and lots of attitude. Look at that dramatic entrance.... he just.... yeets the bowl he was holding....

He pondered for a moment. Then, rising to his feet, he kicked the door open.

The two servants, in the midst of making eyes at each other, screamed in horror as the double doors of the shack suddenly burst open. Wei Wuxian threw aside his bowl and chopsticks and walked outside without anyone’s leave [...]

We are also introduced to the fact that WWX does not seem to take himself seriously and loves to shock people. 

When it came to wild displays of misbehavior, Wei Wuxian was a master. In the past when he ran wild, he still had to mind appearances lest others accuse him of having not been raised right. But now that he was a lunatic anyways, what face did he need! He could go straight to making a scene, acting however it pleased him.

While WWX is clearly not the one-dimensional evil monster depicted in rumours, we do see that he can be cunning: he lies easily if he feels it motivated, he is very good at talking people into a corner, apt at making them do incriminating things by leading them on, which he does by humiliating the Mo family for their mistreatment of MXY in front of a crowd. But in a way, that is also a quality of his: he is not just silver-tongued; he’s good at assessing a situation and people’s characters, able to figure out what will set them off.

We further get proof that he is not a blood-thirsty monster who disregards others when he tries to figure out if he can satisfy MXY’s spirit without having to wipe out the Mo family (although it is clearly the obvious solution) and when he is shown to care for the well-being of others. This is illustrated by the way he double-checks (through ruse) that the zhaoyin flags are properly set up and will be used safely by the Lan juniors. 

During the conversation, Wei Wuxian had already finished making a rapid examination of the Yin Summoning Flag in his hand. It had been painted in the correct manner, and there were no missing sigils either. There was not a single error or omission, so they should worked as intended. That being said, the person who had painted the flag lacked experience, and the painted sigils could only attract the evil spirits and walking corpses within at most five li. That should however prove to be enough. (chapter 2)

[...]

Wei Wuxian’s first thought was that something had gone wrong with the flag arraw the youth had set up. His inventions needed to be used with extreme caution, or else risk disaster. This was also why he had gone to check earlier if there were anything wrong with the array. (Chapter 3)

As our POV character, WWX comes across as endearing through little details: it’s in the way he calls LSZ a “good little seedling (好苗子)” and calls the Lan juniors a group of “小朋友“ in his inner monologue, or when he defends the Lan juniors from Mo-furen’s accusations. Or the way he likes Xiao Pingguo because it looks at him with contempt:

A donkey was tied to the handle, chewing on it. When it saw Wei Wuxian run over rashly, it seemed like it was surprised, and eyed him sideways as if it were a real person. Wei Wuxian made eye contact with him for one second and was immediately touched by the minuscule amount of contempt in its eyes.

Establishing how WWX acts in high-pressure situations

Things escalate quite quickly into accusations of murder and death and resentful corpses. This first sequence is thus our introduction to how WWX acts under pressure and in high-risk situations (which will continue to happen to our MC until the end of the novel). 

WWX is shown to be cool under pressure and quick to think on his feet, constantly re-assessing the situation and the risks. He is also seen as expecting people to arrive to conclusions without him needing to explain them out loud, like when he takes out the zhaoyin flag that MZY stole from his corpse, letting the Lan juniors understand on their own what happened. When he needs to explain, he will not do it in a straight-forward manner, giving small hints first (this preludes many of WWX and LWJ interaction when they understand each other’s thought process with only one sentence being said, and preludes how WWX will continue to act with the Juniors later on, making them think through the situations instead of feeding them the answers).

We also get the proof that WWX does not privilege self-preservation over the fate of others.

If he wanted to avoid having the situation get out of hand, Wei Wuxian should retreat. If they people who came did not know him, then all would be well—but if they happened to be someone who had dealt with him or fought against him in the past, it would be hard to guess what would happen next.

But the curse meant he could not leave Mo Village yet. As well, the spirit that had been summoned had taken two lives in quick succession, meaning it was extremely vicious. If Wei Wuxian left now, once the reinforcement arrived, the streets of Mo Village might already be packed with corpses missing their left arm, of which some would be blood relations of the GusuLanShi. 

After a short deliberation, Wei Wuxian thought, fight a quick battle to force a swift resolution (速战速决). (Chapter 3)

[...]

Wei Wuxian was watching the battle attentively. His tongue was slightly curled, suppressing a sharp whistle inside of his lips, preparing it to be let out. The whistle would be able to evoke even more hostility in the cruel corpses, which might turn the tables. Then, however, it would be difficult to ensure that nobody knew that it was his doing. 

In the blink of an eye, the hand moved like lightning, ruthlessly and precisely breaking Madame Mo’s neck. Watching as the Mo family grew closer to defeat, Wei Wuxian prepared to blow the whistle that he suppressed under his tongue. At the same time, the echoes of two strums on a stringed instrument came from far away. (chapter 4)

As well, we are told something about WWX when he only leaves once LWJ arrives: certainly because he’s afraid that LWJ might recognize him but mostly because (as it will become clear later on) he trusts that LWJ will be able to handle the situation in his stead. In order words, although WWX is willing to risk himself to help others, he is not careless with his life and safety (for instance he makes sure to destroy the proof of the Offering ritual before fleeing to make sure no one can figure out the fact that he is back from the dead).

WWX will not hesitate to fool people or pretend in order to help his goals. In this case, he is trying to help and fight without appearing like a powerful cultivator who can do modao, balancing self-preservation with the incentive to protect the people present. This is why he pushes LJY in front of LSZ at one point in the battle, instead of blocking it himself, while pretending to just be a lunatic doing lunatic things.

Inside of the Lan clan’s uniform jacket, there were compact stitchings of incantations using thin threads of the same color, included for protection. However, against strong ones like this, it could only be used once before it became invalid. During the emergency, he could only kick Lan Jingyi and use his body to protect Lan Sizhui’s neck.

This sequence also allows the reader to know more about modao and WWX’s skills, and how he can control corpses, as well as how WWX perceives his own abilities. 

TLDR:

The Mo Village arc, in conjunction with the prologue, competently sets up a lot of the moving pieces for the novel. It also leans heavily toward establishing a strong sense of characterisation for our MC and POV character, which is neat! 

NB: I think it’s also very telling that the next chapter after the Mo Mansion arc begins with us learning that WWX has been, in the past few days since his retreat, lorded over by a capricious donkey. WWX is clearly not someone who takes himself very seriously (often mocking himself):

The donkey ran over there and nothing could make it leave. Wei Wuxian hopped down and slapped its honoured buttocks. “You’re definitely destined for wealth, even harder to please than I am.” The donkey spat at him.

[xwing-baby]

Impulse: El Ojo (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. With Agent Peña as your mentor, what could possibly go wrong? 

Warnings: swearing, injury to reader, alcohol and drug abuse, threatening with guns, brief mentions of torture, description of injury and blood, unwanted touching, flirting, bad thought processes (addiction). PINK SHIRT 

Word Count: 5k 

A/N: Had a little change of plan last week, this is now the final chapter of this series. I am so sad to end it now, I’ve loved writing this so much. My first time writing for Narcos so thank you so much for all the support y’all I’ve given me with this. I love you all. I hope you enjoy this chapter!! 

<-- Previous Chapter // Masterlist //  Next Chapter -->

--

You were on a winning streak. Since you’d found the list of sicarios and matched that up with the more current information, you’d presented it to Carrillo and surprisingly he was on board. With his help, you had brought down five, admittedly low level but increasingly more valuable, sicarios. If you didn’t think about the torture and abuse each of them undertook once captured, used to break them into more telling more information, you could say you were doing a good job. Escobar’s organisation was shaking. You were coming for him. 

You and Steve leant against a wall, soaking up the sunshine chatting amongst yourselves when you saw Javier arrive. You hadn’t expected him to come at all, having disappeared without a word early on in the morning. He parked his truck close by, walking over to you and Steve with his vest in hand. You grinned and jabbed Steve when you saw the shirt Javi was wearing. 

The pink shirt had been a long-standing joke since you’d found it in his closet a few months ago. He had many colourful shirts, was known for them, but the pink one always seemed like another level. You and Steve teased him about it constantly, though you had to admit it did look good on him now. Javi scowled when he saw you and Steve’s mischievous grins, immediately realising his mistake. 

“I know you get called the Whore of Bogata but you don’t need to dress like it! Jesus christ Javi!” You fanned yourself with your hand, grinning at him, “really I’m going to need a minute,” Javi flipped you off as you laughed hard.  

“Shut up, I look great,” He grumbled. 

“Just thinking about the poor flamingo you rinsed for that colour,” Steve joined in the teasing, shaking his head sadly. 

“You are just jealous you could never pull this colour off,” Javi said smugly. You laughed.

“Maybe you shouldn’t come out today, could be quite distracting,” You said, pretending to be thoughtful. Javi’s frowned, only making you and Steve laugh more, “Aw don’t get pissy, Baby. We love you really” You teased him in a mocking voice, pouting at him. “You and your flamboyant choices,” You ruffled his hair up as you passed him. He tried to duck out the way but you caught him. He shoved you away, muttering expletives under his breath. You skipped a few paces out of his reach, flipped him off. 

“L/n!” Somebody called your name across the street, one of the technicians you’d been talking to before Javier arrived. You left Steve and Javier to talk. 

The technician explained the problem again, showing you the options for moving forward. It was quite common that things would go wrong before any kind of mission. Today was no different, the technicians had lost a signal and were now not sure that the address you had swarmed was correct.  

You chewed your nails while you thought. You could risk getting the wrong house, letting the sicarios know you were on to them and you’d lose them again. You could come back another day, but risk losing them again. Or you could ransack some innocent person's house and have Carrillo on your ass for ruining his reputation in the one week he’d left you in charge. 

 If you messed this up it would mean your stronghold would be lost. There would be time for them to work out what was going on and move everything again. 

At a loss, you excused yourself needing to take a break and a few minutes alone to think without soldiers trying to put in their two cents. 

As your work life had become more stressful over the last months. You had found some relief in, ironically, coke. It wasn’t a habit you were trying to form, but you had learnt just what good taking just a little bit could do for you. It quietened down your worried brain and made you simultaneously more aware of everything. You were better when you were just a little bit high.  

You had started keeping a small amount in your pocket. Hidden in a small sewing tin in your jacket pocket, you had started keeping a little coke on you especially for moments like this. You could take it, have a breather, and come back with a solution. It was fine. Nobody would know. 

You’d spotted a cafe across the road, and hoped they had a restroom. You gave an excuse to the soldier you’d been talking to and walked across the street.

“Oi Rookie!” Javi called as he noticed you walk past on the opposite side of the street. “Where are you going?” 

“Going to the bathroom. Women’s issues,” You called back, Javi and Steve grimaced. That was always the best excuse.

While you wouldn’t do it at the compound you didn’t have any reservation here. You’d been itching for a hit all morning and there was only so much more you could take. You walked into the cafe, asked for the direction of the restroom, and locked the door behind you once you were inside. Small, dark and stinking of pee, it was not the best place but hygiene wasn’t particularly an issue you were worried about. 

You tipped a small amount from the box onto the sink counter, lined it up with a card from your pocket, bent down and took it up your nose. You grimaced, while it had burnt your nose somewhat it still stung. But it was worth it when the feeling began to kick in. You smiled at your reflection and double-checked your appearance in the mirror, wiping your nose. Nobody could ever tell. 

As usual, the drug kicked your brain into gear again and everything fell into place. The raid went brilliantly, by pure coincidence you’d bagged two sicarios in one as your original target had invited your next round for dinner with his new girlfriend. Your plan well into the swing of things now, much to everyone’s surprise. 

—

Like every weekend for the last three months, you were going out. The line between enemies and friends was long since blurred, hanging out with ‘Isabela’s’ friends was not an issue. Most of the time you weren’t even trying to get anything from them, you’d got what you needed months ago. As fun as Javier and Steve were, it was much more enjoyable to hang out with people your age. And they wouldn’t give you cocaine, María had it on tap. 

You were dressed up, recently treating yourself to a new outfit as a job well done. A black off the shoulder top, covered in lace, and a little black mini skirt. You felt sexy, you were going to have a very good night. 

“Rookie!” Javier called out to you as he came out of the apartment building. You were standing outside waiting for a taxi, smoking a cigarette.

“Javi, baby, you’re looking slick! Where are you going?” You checked him out. He wore his signature tight blue jeans and an equally tight black shirt that was almost bursting at the seams. He looked incredible, as he always did. 

You were thankful that things had gone back to normal between you and Javier. The awkward stepping around each other had gone, you weren’t jealous. You acknowledged you would probably always like him a little more than was professional but that had fallen into a fun flirty banter that more than anything just wound Steve up.

You found yourself calling him Baby more than his name, it’d started as a joke to get back at him for always calling you Rookie but now it was so commonplace people had stopped picking you up on it if it slipped out while you were working.  

It was fun. You cared for each other, that was clear to even a blind man, but there was no romanticism to the relationship anymore. There was no need. It wasn’t good for either of you. You’d found a comfortable rhythm and were going to stick to it. 

“Out,” He shrugged, “That’s a new top,”

“You noticed?” 

 “Course, can’t keep my eyes off you,” He purred, happily playing along with your game. 

“Thought you’d be more interested in the skirt,” 

“Will you two quit it?” Steve’s voice interrupted your flirting as he walked down the stairs. You barked in laughter. 

“Steve! So it’s a boys night I see? Where was my invite?” 

“Figured you’d have your own plans,” Steve said. 

“And you are correct Murphy but it’s always polite to ask,”

 “Next time,” He assured you. “Where are you going tonight?” 

“I don’t know. Some club, El Ojo or something?” You shrugged, “Seeing as this is maybe Isabela’s last time out I am going to go out with a bang, literally,” You raised an eyebrow, insinuation of your worlds made Steve roll his eyes. 

You were hoping within the next few weeks to be able to close in on some higher level sicarios and associates to Escobar. Drawing the noose in slowly so he wouldn’t notice until it’d choked him. That meant your position as Isabela was going to have to come to an end to keep you safe from your own program. You’d discussed it at length with Peña and Murphy, while you didn’t agree you had to listen to them. They were still your superiors after all, no matter how close friends you were. 

“If you told past you you were going to willingly sleep with a Narco I think you would have passed out,” Steve laughed. 

“I’m a changed woman Murphy, what can I say,” You smirked, “Imagine what I’ll be like by the end of the year,” 

“God help us,” Javier shook his head, a smirk plastered on his face. You laughed and stubbed out your cigarette with your shoe as your taxi pulled around the corner. 

“Here’s my ride. Have a good night, boys. I will be back in the morning,”

 —

El Ojo was just as María had told you. Modern and smoke-filled, people were filling every inch of the space. You walked in and couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face. This was exactly what you needed. Crowds were anonymous, nobody cared who you were or what you were doing. Everyone was just there for one reason, to have a good time. 

You ordered a drink at the bar, flirting with the man next to you briefly before taking the drink and finding your friends. As usual, they were up in the VIP area, courtesy of the Parreño name. You walked up and were let inside the cordoned-off area to find Diego stood up on his seat, wild-eyed, shouting about something. It wasn’t until you got closer that you heard what he was saying. 

“I’m telling you Isabela is lying!” He shouted above the music. 

“What’s going on?” You asked. None of the ten people surrounding the booth noticed your approach, their eyes shifting awkwardly when they saw you. 

“You! You’re a liar!” Diego pointed down at you, hatred burning behind his eyes. 

“What is going on?” You asked again. You looked around for María, she was usually the one to step between you and Diego, but she was nowhere to be seen. This was not the kind of conversation you’d wanted for this evening. 

“You were the only one to survive that raid at Carlos’,” He continued, jumping off the couch to your level,  “That fucking maniac Carrillo killed everyone but you! You’re working with them, aren’t you?” 

“You’ve lost it,” You rolled your eyes, “Completely lost it,”

“You don’t deny it!” He yelled. You gulped, trying not to look scared of the man but the rage in his eyes was shaking you. You stepped backwards as he advanced toward you

“You’re insane!” You laughed in his face, “I’m not a fucking spy, especially not for Carrillo,” 

“Bullshit,” He spat, Suddenly he pulled a gun from his back, waving it in your face. People shouted and screamed around you, scattering as the metal glinted in the light. Your eyes remained on his, not saying a word as he pressed the barrel into your neck. You didn’t move, barely breathing, “You’re a fucking rat,” He growled.

“Diego!” Finally, María stepped in, running over when she heard the commotion. “Stop it, put it away. Idiot,” She pulled the gun from his hand, standing firmly between you and him. “Ignore him. He’s paranoid. Someone’s leaking information and he thinks it's you because he’s a jealous asshole,” Maria explained, swiftly pushing him backwards until he sat back in the booth again, “How fucking ridiculous would that be? You? A spy!” 

“Insane,”  You agreed through a clenched jaw. Diego continued to glare at you dangerously, leaning over to whisper something to a friend. 

“I swear if we get banned from this club because of you Diego I am leaving you,” María said angrily, “Come on, I want to party,” She linked her arm through you, not caring that you were still in shock from having a gun held to you, and dragged you to the bar.

Fortunately, copious amounts of vodka and tequila were great for calming your nerves. In a few hours, you had nearly forgotten the entire ordeal. You couldn’t think about anything more than the music ringing in your ears and how good it felt dancing on the stranger behind you. 

After a while, María pulled you back up to the booth where Diego and his friends were still sitting. You did your best to ignore him, chatting to one of the girls at the table instead. You laughed and did a few lines, generally relaxing into the evening. So relaxed you didn’t notice the newest member of the group until he finally addressed you.

“Don’t I know you?” You looked over and panic spread over you like a bucket of ice water over your head sobering you almost instantly. He did know you. The man before you was the first man you had arrested, almost six months ago. He must have been bailed out for jail. 

“No,” You answered confidently. You didn’t lie. You didn’t know him, not really.

“Gabriel, sit down!” María cheered, “Isabela this is my cousin, Gabriel. Gabriel, Isabela,” She introduced you. Her cousin. Of course. You smiled politely, praying the dim lights would hide the nervous sweat that had overtaken you. 

Gabriel looked confused but didn’t say anything if he did recognise you. Not that that would matter anyway, as soon as he spoke to Diego his memory would no doubt be jogged. If he found out you were a DEA agent you would be dead. You had to leave.

“Here take my seat, I’ve got to get some air for a minute,” You stood up, letting him take your place next to Maria. You caught Diego’s suspicious look as you walked past, spotting the nearest exit door. 

Your hands were shaking, your body not sure what to do with itself. The cocaine and alcohol said to go back inside and take them all out. What was left of your rational brain was consumed by fear and kept you outside. It was bad enough if someone like Senator Parreño had suspicions about you but Diego? Gabriel? Diego had already shown he wasn’t afraid to threaten you in public. Of the two of them joined heads they would connect the dots and your cover would be blown wide open. So would you, you thought morbidly. Coke and anger never mixed well. 

You took breathes of the warm summer air, leaning against the wall of the club as you tried to calm yourself down. You shouldn’t have taken the last shot, now verging over the edge of blacking out; your vision was spotty, sound not registering properly and your tongue felt heavy in your mouth. 

You wondered if Steve and Javi were nearby, the fresh air having the opposite effect than you’d wanted. You would blackout and you were going to need help to get home if you did. But you didn’t recall either of the men telling you where they were going, they could be anywhere in the city. 

Stumped for the moment, you decided to wait it out, lighting a cigarette hoping that might help sober you up. You pulled the packet from your purse

“Need a light?” A man appeared next to you, lighter in hand. You nodded and he flicked the flame up, you bent over and lit your cigarette between your teeth. 

“Thanks,” You mumbled, turning away from him, hoping he would leave. He didn’t. Instead, the man continued to stare at you, following you into your personal space as you shuffled away from him. 

“Can I help you?” You snapped, immediately getting a bad feeling about him. You crossed your arms over your chest, frowning at him. 

“No need for that tone baby. Come on, I wanna talk to you,” He purred. His eyes dipped to your cleavage, a lustful look in his eyes. 

“I’m not interested,” You said, stepping backwards away from the man. He seemingly didn’t hear you, continuing to get into your personal space, arms reaching out to grab your hips. 

“You were interested earlier. Come on, baby,” He purred, pulling you close to him, pressing his hips against yours. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You yelled, pushing him off hard enough to make him stumble backwards. 

“Fucking bitch,” He growled. 

If you were sober the situation would have a very swift end. You would punch him square in the face and he would leave you alone, scuttling away with a broken jaw and a shattered ego. However, you were not in a state to do that now. He had the upper hand. All you could do was run, hoping once you were back amongst people he wouldn’t attack you. You looked up the alley, the open street was just a few feet away. 

You bolted.

Unfortunately just as you didn’t have enough coordination to punch the man, you didn’t have enough to run in heels on the uneven floor. Not even ten foot away your legs wobble, heels falling into a pothole sending you forward. You fell into a dumpster, head hitting the corner of the metal with a thud. You yelped, vision going black for a moment as you lay on the concrete. 

“Hey hey hey,” A man ran over, instantly scaring the man off of you. He knelt by your side and helped you up from where you’d fallen. You groaned and pushed yourself up, head throbbing harshly, warm liquid trickling down your face. Your world was spinning even with your eyes closed. “Y/n, Fuck are you okay?”

“Get off me!” You exclaimed, trying to push the stranger off, not that your shaking arms were very effective. 

“Y/n hey it’s me, you’re okay!” You looked up and saw Steve through a haze of blurred vision. You squinted as something dripped over your eye. Steve then saw the cut to your head, “Oh shit,” Your eyes are glassy and blown out, you mumbled something to him and pushed yourself out of his reach again, wobbling and tipping backwards. He caught you before you hit the floor again. “Y/n what are you doing out here? Weren’t you with your friends?”

“Her brother was the first guy,” You said, your speech slurred so much Steve barely understood what you were saying.

“Rookie, you’re not making sense. What are you on about?” 

“I’m so fucked,” You sighed, letting your head rollback. You giggled as the world spun. 

“Yeah, I can tell, come on let’s get you home,” Steve stood up, holding his hands out to you and pulled you up to standing again. 

“Where’s Peña?” You asked. 

“At the bar,” 

“I want to go talk to him, let’s go talk to him!” You exclaimed. You began to walk in the opposite direction, dragging Steve along by the arm. He pulled you back with ease. 

“You can talk to him in the morning, we’re going home,” He insisted.

“But I have to tell him about the brother he’s going -,” Your rambling was interrupted as you threw up, barely missing Steve’s leg. He grimaced and jumped out of the way, “I have to talk to him,” You said quietly once you were done. 

“Tomorrow, Kid,” He repeated himself.

You pouted, tears of frustration welling up in your eyes but you didn’t fight him. Despite how drunk you were you knew that going home would realistically be the best course of action right now. You could barely string a sentence together let alone get anything important out coherently.

Steve got you into a taxi, luckily the driver paid no attention to the blood dripping down your face. You were falling asleep on his shoulder as you pulled up to the apartment, Steve pulled you out of the car and up the stairs to the apartment. Only when he opened the door, he was met by Javier and Vanessa also on their way inside.

“Woah!” Javier instantly turned his full attention to you when he saw the state you were in, hanging onto Steve’s sleeve, “What happened?” 

“Some guy tried to touch her up, she hit her head, I’ve got it covered,” Steve explained.

“Hey Baby,” You grinned, obviously giving Javi a once over. 

“She doesn’t look alright,” Vanessa commented, “Did she just call you baby?”

“It’s a long story,” Javi dismissed the comment. “She doesn’t look okay,”

“I’ve got it covered. I’ll get her to throw up and get some water to sober her up,” Steve said, “We’ll be okay, won’t we Rook?”

“Fine and dandy!” You grinned.

“If you’re sure,” Javi said hesitantly. You were gone, hanging onto Steve’s arm to hold yourself up. Your eyes were blown out and blank, if you remembered anything in the morning it would be a miracle. His first reaction was to help you, not sure Steve could handle you alone. Steve wasn’t exactly sober himself, sinking a good few beers with Javier in the bar before he’d left. However, his decision was made for him as you and Steve began walking up the stairs, Vanessa’s hands were back on him and any worry was squashed as she dragged him into his apartment.

Upstairs, Steve took you into his apartment. He took you to the bathroom, sat you on top of the toilet and rooted around the medicine cabinet to find some cleaning supplies so he could patch up your bleeding head. 

“Connie’s probably got something in here,” He rooted through the cabinet. Connie had gone back to Miami for the week to see her family, inconveniently right when her skills were needed. Steve’s tipsy attempt at first aid would have to do,“Ah-ha! Here we go, clean that cut out with this,”

“Ow!” You whined, flinching away from him quickly when he showed you the antiseptic bottle. 

“I didn’t touch you,” Steve chuckled, “Hold still,” Carefully he poured the liquid over a cotton ball, took hold of your face in the other hand and dabbed the cotton on your cut. 

“Ow! Steve that fucking hurt,” You complained, flinching away from him as the alcohol stung the wound on your head. You frowned at him, tearing up a little. 

“Don’t be a baby,” 

“I am a baby!” You exclaimed. Steve grabbed hold of you again, he needed to clean the wound if it was going to heal properly. You whined and hissed at him but eventually, it was clear. 

“Look, all done, got the grit out,”

“Thanks, Steve,” You kissed his cheek quickly. 

“You’re welcome,” He laughed awkwardly. “Come on, you can’t sleep on my toilet. Bedtime,”

“You’re not my type,” You scrunched your nose and leant away from him. 

 “Ouch way to break my heart Rook,” Steve chuckled, “No, you’re going to your own bed, by yourself,”

“It's so far away!” You whined. 

“It's across the hall!” He copied your tone making you laugh. 

Steve pulled you up from the toilet and managed to wrangle you across the hall. Half asleep, leaning into Steve before you even got inside the apartment, you fell into bed without protest. Steve pulled off your shoes, throwing them on the ground before stumbling back to his apartment to collapse in his bed. 

—

Waking up in your apartment unsure of how you got there, was a strange feeling. What was even stranger was the harsh throbbing on your head. You blindly brought a hand to the sight, recoiling instantly as you touched something sore. You sat up, slowly opening your eyes to the daylight and looked at your reflection in the mirror opposite your bed. 

You groaned when you saw the gash on your forehead. Dried blood sat in the creases of your neck, and underside of your jaw as well as being crusted into your hair. You tried to remember how you’d gotten the injury but came up blank. You couldn’t remember anything from the night before. Not unusual for your almost nihilistic habits, but it was concerning given the infliction. 

You looked at the clock. 9 am. You’d slept in. Since you were up you decided to clean yourself up. You padded to your bathroom, wincing at the harsh light inside and the grinding sound of the extractor fan. You filled the sink with warm water and gently cleaned the blood from your face with a cloth, only once stopping to throw up into the toilet. 

You showered, hot steam help clear your brain fog but not helping the cut on your forehead which now stung immensely. But that wasn’t the feeling you were concentrating on. 

A new kind of hunger, one you weren’t yet familiar with had settled in on the back of your tongue. A repeating idea chanting over and over in your head. It had partly been cocaine’s fault you’d got into this mess, but it would get you out of this hangover now. 

You remembered you had some in your jacket pocket from the day before, leftover. Once you’d thought about it there was no stopping you. You didn’t have to take it all, you could stop yourself if you wanted. You pulled the tin out from your coat, sit it down on your dressing table while you pulled on some clothes. 

 You sat back at the dressing-table again once you were done and stared at the box. You’d not done it here more than once or twice. Never by yourself. Something about being at home with it made you feel guilty, possibly because you were surrounded by your friends who also happened to be DEA agents who would kill you if they found the stuff in the building. 

You picked up the box, contemplating it. You could get something done if you took it. Wouldn’t have to sit in your hungover state and wallow in self-pity until the headache left. You could go for a walk. Do nice things. Taking the cocaine would bring you nice things, as it always did. 

You opened it. 

“Morning,” Javier’s voice inside your apartment suddenly startled you, causing you to spill the contents of your box all over your dressing table. 

“Fuck,” You swore out loud. 

“Okay in there?” You regretted giving him a key. You did not need the interruption. His voice snapped you back to reality. You decided you didn’t have time, or rather not wanting to be caught red-handed, you decided to leave it and greet your surprise guest. 

“Good morning,” You said brightly, opening and closing your bedroom door tightly behind you. Javier was standing in the middle of your living room, a book in hand flicking through it. He discarded it back to the coffee table where he’d found it when you appeared. 

“Just wanted to check you were alright, you looked rough last night,” Javi said, “that cut looks sore,”

“It stings but it’ll be ok in a few days,” You shrugged. Javi looked at you strangely, “Did you come up here for something?” You asked. 

“You don’t remember what today is?” He asked. You frowned and thought for a moment. 

“It’s your birthday?” You asked slowly. 

“No,”

“It’s my birthday?”

“I don’t know when you’re birthday is,” 

“Javi I’ve obviously forgotten please just tell me,” You pleaded. 

“Searchblok, you and Steve swapped. Remember?”

“Shit!” You exclaimed. How could you have forgotten?! You scrambled back into your room to get changed, boxer shorts and a hole-ridden t-shirt wouldn’t cut it. 

“I should write you up for the mess you were in last night,” He called through the door as you rushed to get dressed, pulling on the nearest jeans on your floor. That’s not the only thing you should write me up for, you thought looking at the cocaine on your dressing table.

“I should write you up for sleeping with hookers,” You said back.

“Nowhere in my contract does it say I can’t! You however have a reckless behaviour clause,” He said. Your heart stopped at that, opening the door quickly to pop your head out.

“Javi-“

“I’m joking Rook, don’t worry!” Javier laughed. You rolled your eyes and shut the door again, pulling on a fresh shirt. A few seconds later you stepped out, buttoning the last of the clasps on your shirt. “I was worried about you but you’re fine so we’ll forget it ever happened,” 

“Thanks, Baby,” You grinned at him. Javi rolled his eyes.

“You need to stop that though,” 

 “You love it,” You teased him. He didn’t reply, turning on his heel and walking out. You hesitated for a moment, glancing back at your bedroom door. The coke was still lined up in there, calling to you. It would only take a few seconds to do it and get rid of your hangover for a few hours.

“Rookie, hurry up!” Javi called you from the hallway, audibly impatient. You decided against it, grabbing your keys and a jacket and running to catch up with him. He was already waiting by the truck by the time you got downstairs. “Did anything interesting happen last night, then?” Javi asked. You tried to think for a moment, you remembered something important had happened, something you’d wanted to tell him last night but you couldn’t remember what. You shrugged.

“Apart from getting this,” You gestured to the injury to your forehead, “I can’t remember. There was something but I don’t know,” 

“Can’t have been very important then,” Javi added. You shrugged and shook your head. 

“Guess not,” 

Next Chapter  -->

--

Finally we’ve come full circle, I am so sad it’s over I have absolutely loved writing this series. Again I want to say a massive thank you to everyone’s that read the series, it means more than you could imagine. I love you all. I’m going to have a cry and make a start on all the other things I’ve been neglecting to write this.

The ending is already written and posted so if you haven’t read it go enjoy :))

tag list: @beskar-falcon  @peterssweetpea @beskarbabs @all-hallows-evie @harrys-stan @wille-zarr @danniburgh @rentheisopod @urbankaite2 @whataloadofmalarkey @ahsofka @yeetus-my-feetus @sara-alonso @xiao-lusi @all-good-things-have-an-ending @eternallyvenus @ajeff855 @mayangel19 @1950schick @pedrosmustache @wantingtobekorra @balmasedas @angelsunflxwer @brujademente​ @kingsmanandqueens​ @igotissueswithfictionalmen​

[the-river-person]

Fangs, Tupperware, and Canines

Snip... snip... snip. Not one single stray bud or dying leaf would escape his shears. Papyrus, the Great and Terrible Papyrus, Lieutenant Captain of the Royal Guard, scowled in concentration as he trimmed the rose bush before him. It was a captain’s duty to maintain the flowerbeds around the station, for though they did not produce any actual sustenance, the roses were a symbol of loyalty to the Royal Family, and thus must be maintained with as much care as any plant in the fields or orchards. The sharp blade cut away at any offending sign of decay or hasty growth, mercilessly silencing them as brutally as the Lieutenant Captain would any lawbreaker. His hands were steady, showing no sign of the inner rage he was struggling to contain. Sans was late, again. If that no good, lazy, shit piece of-... no. Sans would have some reason, he was sure of it. There was always some reason, after all. Not always a good one, but good enough to scrape him by. Hmph. He glared at the rosebush as if it were at fault for his brother’s idiocy. Predictably, the rose bush showed no reaction, nor had Papyrus expected it to. He caught the sound of familiar footsteps approaching, that was Sans at last. But... not alone? Sans had no friends... who? Hand at his side, ready to summon a weapon of bone at the slightest instant, he stood and turned to await the arrival of his brother and whoever was with him. Upon seeing who it was, he relaxed. Doggo, a member of the Canine Unite. Loyal as any dog, though stupid and vicious as one. Papyrus smirked slightly. Stupid was good when it came to the dogs. They didn’t get any funny ideas. Unfortunately, Doggo himself smelled very strongly of smoke and dog biscuits as well as the very faint scent of whisky. One more person was with them. Funnily enough this Monster was being dragged by Sans, presumably against their will, and did not look even remotely happy about their circumstances. Papyrus noted that Doggo was looking equally annoyed and was also being forced along against his will. How very odd, Sans didn’t usually exert his will unless he really felt he needed to, and considering how damned lazy he was, that hardly ever happened. The other Monster was a cat monster, much like that radio host from Nebelheim, though this one was smaller and very clearly a child. Their fur was lighter grey marked by darker grey streaks. “I expect you have a very good reason for all of...this?” said Papyrus shortly, unable to find a suitable word to describe the ludicrous scene in front of him as he gestured to the three monsters before him. Somehow, Sans’ grin was almost gleeful, something that Papyrus wanted to smack him for, but as tempting as it was he managed to resist the impulse. “Sorry Boss, I was on my way to find ya. And I ran into these idiots near the orchards.” And saying this he gave both cat monster and Doggo a little shake, causing both to bare their teeth at him, which only made him snicker. It was absolute bullshit, to use the common phrase. Sans didn’t walk anywhere if he could help it. Papyrus’ interest in this was growing with each moment. “Doggo here found a little free experience and thought he’d have some fun. Normally I wouldn’t care, but Doggo is in the Guard, ain’t he? I seem’ ta remember some kinda rule against that. Can’t have anyone under your command breakin’ the rules, can we?” Sans was definitely up to something. He didn’t care a bit about rules or regulations. But technically, he was correct. There was a rule about members of the guard taking advantage of their position to prey on the weak for XP. After all, someone needed to keep some kind of order. For a long moment, Papyrus was silent, trying to decide what to do with the lot of them. Because Sans had actively saved this child, he couldn’t simply be thrown out or imprisoned, there was procedure to think of. And of course, Doggo couldn’t be let off easy, though his punishment would be light since he was a valuable asset to the guard. Just enough to make an example. “You, child. Who are you? Where is your family? Parental authorities? Striped shirt? Well?” The cat-monster stared up at him, clearly bewildered, and after a moment where Papyrus’s impatience was beginning to boil, he finally shrugged and shook his head. With a snort, and reaching the very end of his patience, Papyrus simply used his magic to Check the child’s stats. “?????” * HP: 14/20 * AT: 0   DEF: 0 * Weapon: Teeth & Claws * Doesn’t know where or who he is, but is determined to survive. A resilient soul, despite the lack of parents or a home. * Has been hungry for a while. Oh. Papyrus paused, his scowl deepening as he thought hard. That changed things. He tapped the side of his skull thoughtfully as he pondered out loud. “Well then, we’ll of course have to inform Captain Undyne as per regulation. And figure out what to do with you until some more permanent solution can be found.” “I could eat him?” offered Doggo. It was only a joke, even Papyrus could tell that, though perhaps a poorly timed one considering how much trouble the stupid monster was already in. But in the few seconds that it took for the comment to register, the cat monster had already broken free from Sans’ grip and leapt upon Doggo, biting him hard with his sharp fangs. “OWOWOHOW!!!” screeched the guard dog as he tried to shake off his would-be assailant. Sans was laughing, doubling over as his belly and shoulders shook from the force of his amusement. “Well shit, Doggo. Looks like you’re the one who’s gonna get eaten! Little kitten here has fangs after all!” With a growl of feigned annoyance, though he too was resisting the urge to laugh, Papyrus reached forward and grabbed the nameless monster by the scruff of his neck and pulled him away from Doggo, forcing him to release his toothy hold in order to turn around and bite Papyrus instead. “Stop that,” ordered the Lieutenant Captain sharply and his captive stilled in fear. “It won’t help anyway, I’m as resilient as bone.” He smirked in San’s direction as his brother’s face went blank with surprise before breaking into an even wider grin. “We’ll have to call you something, and since you seem to be well equipped with them, we’ll call you Fang. Don’t bite any more guards unless you have no other choice, its against the law.” Thrusting Fang down into a chair he made his way over to a little refrigerator sitting in the corner, from this he removed a tupperware of his famous lasagna. It was still hot, as the fridge was one of the custom made ones from Nebelheim labs and kept anything inside well heated. This he placed down firmly in front of Fang, adding a fork and a napkin for good measure. Injuries and lost identities were no excuse for bad manners. Doggo was scowling at the kid, “You’re feeding him?” He said with a sort of plaintive and complaining whine in his voice. “But he bit me.” “Yes he did, and well deserved too. Besides, he’s hungry and the best remedy is my famous-” he paused as there was a tug on his sleeve. Turning to look he found the boy offering him the now empty tupperware with a hopeful expression. Wordlessly Papyrus retrieved another from the fridge and that too was quickly devoured. Honestly he wasn’t at all certain what to make of the expression the child was giving him now, something kind of like adoration. He wasn’t sure he liked it, but he found it difficult to fault anyone who had such refined taste enough for his lasagna. “Ahem,” he cleared his throat, it was time to get back on track. “He can stay in the spare bedroom for a week or so, until things are sorted out and some other arrangement can be made. Papyrus took great pleasure in the fact that both Doggo and Sans had sour expressions now. Doggo still nursing the bite marks from the kid’s teeth, and Sans looking like he wished he’d dumped the kid in a ditch before sharing the house with someone else. “Now,” he said, addressing the pair. “I seem to recall that both of you are still on duty, and the day isn’t nearly over. Get back to your patrols or I’ll be sending reports to Undyne containing your death certificates.” With a click of his teeth in a wide grin and a mocking salute, Sans disappeared with a final “Aye Boss, whatever you say.” Doggo sullenly gave a more proper salute and slunk off out the door. Papyrus noted that the canine’s uniform was wrinkled and the shirt wasn’t tucked in, not to mention that it also had several small tears where the material had worn thin. Humph. It was a travesty. He’d have to order an official inspection one of these days.

[jangmi-latte]

❞ 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐥𝐞, 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐥𝐞! ❝

➻ content: sweet apples and...saliva?

➻ warnings: extra diabetes!

➻ comments: goodness, seems like hunt and felmier are exhausted...

— to my french customers, please do alert me if i used your language wrong. i’m double checking the translations in google translate for it to be accurate but i prefer it coming from you.

— big thanks to @yourlittlerunt (aka rook's twin brother) for correcting me!

"Roi des Poison?"

Rook looked around the room in worry. Vil was nowhere to be found. It is very unusual for the said dorm leader to not be up around this time of the day. It was nearing classes and Pomefiore hasn’t seen him around. Of course, Rook took it upon himself to go to Vil’s room. Nothing.  He texted Epel, the first year being the first contact

    He’s not in his room.

The blond male sighed and closed the door once he had left. 15 minutes left before classes would start. Vil could be anywhere, he could be in classes right now as he searched. That’s when Rook’s phone dinged.

    I haven't seen him either.

Have you tried his lab?

Again, Vil would be anywhere. With a hand through his hair, Rook walked over to the room Epel had mentioned and entered, "Vil? Are you in here?" he called.

Silence. He walked inside, surely he must be crouching somewhere. Still, nothing. Just as Rook was about to leave, glass breaking was heard in a distance and a small giggle. "Qu’est ce que c’était? [What was that?]" he mumbled and began his search once more. Another vile broke and Rook quickly went to the slightly open cabinet.

“These rats.” He was about to close the door before a small cry was heard inside the cabinet. The male quickly opened the door once more and to his surprise, there was a baby–no, a toddler, inside the cabinet.

"Ookie!"

"Eh?"

A boy that looked too much like Vil crawled out of the cabinet and into his arms. "Oh, what in blazes is a baby like you doing here?" Rook grumbled and held the baby at arm’s length. The toddler babbled and clapped his small hands. "Ookie! Ookie!" He made grabby hands to Rook. Another thing, he’s naked.

"I came here for Vil, not you. Though if I do get my suspicions correct, you may be Vil." Rook carried the baby on his hip. "Oh well. I’m sure he would appear somewhere else if it's not you. I have to get you to the professor," he announced and the kid simply sneezed.

"How adorable!"

Before heading out, Rook went to his room and searched for any alternative clothes he could give the child. He doesn’t have baby-sized clothes that for sure. Neither does Vil nor Epel. He scratched his cheek, deep in thought, then snapped his fingers.

"I can only think of one solution, for now." Rook grabbed a cloth from his drawers and laid it across the bed. The little boy, who obediently sat on the bed with his big eyes staring at Rook, babbled before being carried by the huntsman, "Shush."

"Shoosh!" he repeated with a giggle.

Rook placed the boy on the cloth. "Now stay still." He began to wrap the cloth, as secure as he can, around the little fellow’s hips. At least he has something to catch his pee and poo. Cleaning is going to be a problem. Rook did not sign up for a babysitting job nor does he know how. He needs a little help from a certain first year. He carried the boy and proceeded to head to class.

As expected, the moment he walked through the halls of the school building, all the students that were running to their classes had halted on their steps and stared at the vice prefect dumbfounded. The unfazed man walked inside his first class, Magical Alchemy. “Professor Crewel, do excuse me for being late.”

"Why do you have a baby in your arms, Hunt?"

"You see, I was looking for Vil, but I saw this child in the cabinet."

"Hunt."

“Oui?”

"That’s Schoenheit."

"Figured. I guess my suspicions were correct, indeed."

Rook looked at the kid in his arms. Little Vil was holding onto his magic pen, too concentrated on trying to remove the gem as he has his lips in a pout. Professor Crewel was correct indeed. Beautiful blond hair with purple highlights and purple eyes. The cutest and most beautiful baby he has ever seen.

"Oh dear, Roi des Poison what ever did you do in that lab?" Rook mumbled.

Divus cleared his throat. "Hunt. We will look at this matter later. Schoenheit is under your responsibility for now. Meet me after classes are over. Now be a good boy and go to your seat." He continued on with classes after Rook had agreed.

He walked over to his sit and placed Vil on his desk. He was receiving looks and whispers, mostly about how cute Vil is or what mishap has caused the prefect to turn into a sapling. Either way, he’s getting more attention now. Rook sighed and leaned on his arm, "You’re adorable." He poked Vil’s chubby cheeks and received a smile in return. Only four pieces of teeth are shown and it sent the blond squealing and bouncing on his seat.

“Hunt!”

“Apologies, professor!”

Ah, small babbles and giggles had made the class chuckle in delight.

"Vil is already stunning, it’s no surprise–" Cater snapped another picture. "—that him being so small would make him so cute!" he cooed and squished Vil’s cheeks. Rook snatched the little boy from the third-year. "Of course! He is the Vil Schoenheit after all," he proclaimed whilst Cater just shrugged and continued to admire the shrunken dorm leader.

Vil was placed on the table once lunchtime came, some have approached and played with him for his cuteness. He loved the attention but getting too much cheeks squishes and hearing loud noises had made him cry. Which resulted in Rook getting protective and shooing the students away. All except Cater who’s very much gentle with the kid.

Now, little Vil is sucking on sliced apples while Rook looked around for a certain first-year. He texted him once more.

    What’s taking you so long?

Epel responded.

    I'm sorry! Professor Trein held me back.

Placing his phone back on the table and adjusting his hat, Rook looked at Vil who stared at him while sucking on the fruit. "Is there anything you want?" he asked.

"Appie..." Vil babbled and released the apple from his mouth. Rook pouted and took the slobbery fruit from him and cut it into smaller bits.

"Don’t you have any clothes for him?" Cater had asked.

"Non. As if I would have any clothes for an infant."

"Senior!" someone called out along with fast footsteps, "Ah, Epel. Finally," breathed Rook.

Epel slowed down into a walk once he has gotten closer to the third-years, "What’s the problem– oh.." he began to ask, yet the moment his eyes settled on the little Vil happily eating the small apple slices, he has gotten his answer.

"How?"

"I have no clue."

Sighing, the first-year scratched his head. "At least he isn’t going to nag again," he mumbled.

"Did you say something?"

"N-Nothing! Have you asked Professor Crewel?" Epel took a seat beside his senior.

"Professor Crewel said to meet him after classes. You and I have taken full responsabilité over small Roi des Poison."

"W-Why am I involved?"

In the midst of the conversation, Vil’s eyes have caught sight of the feather that adorned Rook’s hat. His stubby legs trembled as he pushed himself up from where he sat. He reached his small hands out then plucked the feather from Rook’s hat. Cater looked up from his phone and quickly grabbed the baby before he could topple over the table.

Rook and Epel snapped their heads over to see Cater holding the laughing baby before he placed him back on the table. "Vil–" Rook furrowed his eyebrows at the sight of the feather in Vil’s hand. His own gloved fingers touched his hat before pouting, “Ah. I suppose you could have that for now,” he sighed. Vil giggled loudly whist waving the feather. “Ookie!” he cheered.

“Yes, I’m Ookie.”

“He’s cute.” Epel commented and gently pulled the baby to where he sat. Vil innocently tilted his head to the first year, he thrust the feather to Epel and waved it. The purple-haired student blinked and gave a small smile, “He can stay like this. I’m fine with it.”

“Then you take care of him.”

"I don't know how—"

A sudden stench was smelt by the third-years. Even Cater had scrunched his face, "Did he..." he began. Rook slowly looked at the quiet toddler on the table, Epel stared at him with wide eyes. Vil was just blinking and the feather he had fun playing was now being held gently on his lap. All three students stared at each other before Epel raised his hands, "Not it!" "Cater, you do it."  "Ah well, you see Riddle needs me! I need to go now! See ya, little Vil!’

Cater quickly stood up and ran out of the cafeteria. Rook groaned and looked back at the baby. Vil's big purple eyes innocently looked at the vice dorm leader and sent his little smile. Poking his tongue on the inside of his cheeks, the hunter picked up toddler, and stood up. "Monsieur Apple Princess, come and assist me to Mr. Sam's shop!"

"B-But—!"

Rook rubbed his face in distress. Little Vil has scattered the powder everywhere, he doesn't want to sit still, and he tried to touch the makeup pallettes that Rook accidentally left on the bed. Epel was trying to distract the little boy with the plushies they have purchased, however it seems like Vil was more interested on trying to eat makeup bruhes.

"I thought he was a good baby..."

Epel deadpanned and shook his head. "Babies are too curious with stuff. Vil— I-I mean senior Vil wasn't an exception, I guess," he stated and gave the bee stuff toy to Vil. The feather that was plucked from Rook's hat is now forgotten as it stayed on the bed.

The vice dorm leader sighed and grabbed Vil once more. "Roi des Poison, do stay still," he practically begged. A hunter does get tired too, you know. Little Vil giggled loudly before biting on the bee. Quickly, Rook laid the baby's lower half on the diaper and swiftly attached it around his hips. Just in time as Vil started to wiggle and babbled before crawling away.

"Fini! [Finished!]"

Vil crawled towards Epel and sat in between his legs. He started to babble incoherent words that made both males confused. "Huh?" they said.

A knock came on Rook's door. "Vice dorm leader?"

"Come in!"

A Pomefiore student peeked his head in, his eyes going to Vil, who's eyes are starting to water as he continued to nibble on the bee, for a brief moment before looking at Rook. "Professor Crewel is calling for you in the lab," he said.

With a nod, Epel carried the sniffling baby as both males headed over to Pomefiore's laboratory. There, Divus was crouched right beside the cauldron, inspecting what seems to be a broken vile. "Professor," Epel called out as he bounced Vil in his arms.

The older male hummed and held up the broken vile. "Hunt, do you have any idea what happened before Schoenheit turned into a child?"

Rook shook his head before walking towards the cauldron. He looked inside then glanced over at the spilt potion on the ground. "Is this nectar from a Hibiscus flower?" he asked. Just as those words slipped from his lips, Vil started to wail.

Epel reflexively started to bounce the child in his arms more. "Shhhh.." he shushed and poked the saliva-drenched bee to him yet, to no avail, the dorm leader still continued to cry.

Divus hummed. "I knew it. It appears Schoenheit tried to create another moisturizer by using nectars from both Hibiscus and Hydrangea flowers," he began before walking over to the cabinets.

"Isn't Hibiscus nectar...." Epel trailed off. "I don't know how to say it but...fragile to other elements?" He continued to hush the little baby that continued to wail. Rook, being worried by Vil's sudden tantrum, approached the two and took him in his arms.

"Rather than fragile, Hibiscus nectar has a strong trigger effect on other elements . Pouring more than three drops of its nectar can cause a big error to the chemicals. I believe Schoenheit accidentally dropped it and spilled more than half of the vile into the cauldron. The room smells, he must've inhaled quite the smoke." Divus went back to the cauldron, holding viles with two different colored liquids.

"So, him being in the cabinets meant that he tried to reverse the spell.." Rook hummed as Vil clinged on his chest. Sniffling and hiccuping as he made grabby hands towards Epel who held the little bee.

"Correct," Divus commented. Carefully, the professor poured the liquids into Vil's unfinished product. Meawhile, Epel had given the little bee to Vil, the toddler taking it into his arms and proceeds to cuddle with it.

"Do you have any milk formula?"

"No/Non." replied the two students.

With a click of his tongue, Divus sucked the finished elixir into a syringe. "It's now your turn to find a way on how to make him drink this. By the look in his eyes, you'll be having a hard time to make Schoenheit drink this." He gave the syringe to Epel before bidding his students farewell.

Rook has never been THIS tired. Taking care of a little kid, his dorm leader at that, was something he did underestimate. He has misjudged Vil being a sweetheart as a child. Who knew the most beautiful man in the whole school shared his own mishaps in his early days. Of course, Rook wouldn't be surprised at this point. Vil is full of surprises after all. They have only knew each other for three years, there is still more to uncover.

"Ah..." Epel opened his mouth as he gently moved Vil's head. He tried to make the young one to mimic him but, as soon as Vil's eyes locked overbat the syringe, his small hand went flying, nearly hitting the syringe before burying his face on Rook's chest.

"No!" he whined.

"Vil.." Rook grumbled and took a deep breath before smiling. "Do you want more apples, Roi des Poison?"

"Appie!" cheered little Vil once he looked up at the vice dorm leader.

Green eyes looked towards the young freshman. "Come now, Monsieur Apple Princess. I have errands to run and a uniform to clean."

My, my, it seems little Vil has drooled on our hunter's uniform.

"Are you sure this will work?" asked Epel who placed the child on his bed. The two now resided in Vil's room as it was the safest place for Vil to return back to his normal state. Yes, the baby only has his diaper on so, there was a big possibility for him to be naked once he shifted back.

Rook pulled the syringe's needle out of the small apple slice. The now empty container placed out of reach as he could see Vil's curious eyes staring at it. "I'm sure it will!" Rook gleamed before handing the apple slice to Vil.

The child eagerly took the fruit and ate it. His two sets of teeth biting down on it while his lips began to suck. Epel groaned and rubbed his face. "He's not eating it! I-I mean—"

"Just enjoy your last taste of freedom of speech before he comes back to normal, Epel."

Rook placed the blanket on Vil's head before placing his hands on his hips. He watched Vil eat the whole fruit with a small giggle. The confused freshman blinked, about to respond before a big gush of smoke scattered around the room, leading both males to cough and cover their noses.

"Ugh..."

As they continued to swatting the smoke away from their faces, the blanket now held a bigger body from the little child that once sat on the bed. Once the smoke was cleared off, Rook looked over at the bed and big smile of relief danced acrossed his face.

"Roi des Poison! You're back!"

Vil moved the blanket away from his head and massaged his temples. Groaning and blinking his eyes once he has completely adjusted. "What happened?" he mumbled and looked at Rook and Epel with confusion. "What are the two of you doing in my room?" He furrowed his eyebrows, his sharp purple eyes now held authority and not the sweet little innocence it once carried.

Epel stiffened and gulped. All the relaxation that he felt when Vil was a sapling disappeared. He was nervous now. Vil is back to the way he was.

"I-I.." he tried to think of excuse. Oh, thank Rook for intervening!

"I'll explain everything once you dress up, Roi des Poison. You might get a cold!"

"Why am I naked?!"

[uozlulu]

Black Clover chapter 292 reaction and spoilers

What I think is interesting about Magna and Zora is that they both think of themselves of having little mana even though they both have three leaf grimoires, which seems to be the most common clover level. They both are kind of wrapped up in the societal hierarchy too thinking because they’re peasants with three leaf grimoires that means they struggle more than Noelle or Mimosa who are royals with three leaf grimoires. This is why I’ve always kind of thought of Magna as being in a kind of school metaphor, like he’s that kid who just straight up cannot take standardized tests, but if you get him doing something that plays to his strengths, those weaknesses no longer matter. It’s also what makes Zora’s solution interesting because it’s a reframing of how they should be using their magic. It might not be that they’re weaker than other three leaf clovers, but that they have to use their magic in less conventional ways.

You know, thinking about last week’s chapter, it’s highly possible that Magna doesn’t actually have Flame Magic (and possible that Zora’s magic isn’t Ash Magic). Like since when does Flame Magic mean you can chain your soul to someone else’s soul and hen mix and divide mana? It’s like he’s got the correct shoe size but the toe’s a little too tight because the design is wrong. If Magna had something more like say Celestial Magic (fire like the sun has fire, soul magic like we are made of stars) or Earth Magic (fire like lava, soul magic like we come from and return to the earth) and he just can access the fire element of that easily so he assumes he has Fire Magic, which might explain a lot. How are you going to master your magic after all if you’ve identified its affinity incorrectly? There doesn’t seem to be a way to double check you’ve figured out your affinity properly in universe as far as we’ve seen too. Or, perhaps that’s something only nobles have the means to pay for, which is why peasants think it’s their lineage holding them back.

Magna calls the spell “Secret Flame Magic: Soul Chain Death Match” and says that it can only be used once and then says, “Let me give you [Dante] a heads up. That chain is our souls. If you yank it out or break it, you’ll go insane so better be careful.” Which at first I was like “How does he know? Who did he kill?” but then I realized the spell pages in his grimoire probably have the rules on them so he wouldn’t necessarily have to use the spell to know what it can do. But then that raises the question of how can you make a spell and perfect it without using it? Has he practiced it? Maybe he means one time only like one time per threat. 

Really kind of excited not only to see Dante get his ass kicked but also to find out what happens after Dante dies and the spell stops too. I just have a lot of questions and absolutely no answers yet. It’s very exciting.

[mnictasbcl]

With love, Connor

My story for @connor-sent-by-cyberlife’s #dbhghostsinthemachine day 1, prompt Unknown Sender.

Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor

Characters: Hank Anderson, Connor, DPD characters

Rating: Mature

Tags: Dark!Connor, Stalking, unhealthy obsession, Killing, Swearing, alternate character interpretation

Warnings: Potential Major Character Death

Summary: Packages start arriving at the DPD each day. They start off as solutions to unsolved crimes… and end up as the details of new crimes themselves. It seems the DPD is dealing with someone with no remorse about murder, someone who seems to only target the grizzled Lieutenant with no care to solve these cases.

Lieutenant Hank Anderson.

Read it on ao3! Or, read below

Each day, the DPD received a package.

The first time they opened it with caution. Parcels from unknown senders to a police station were never simply unwrapped like a Christmas gift. No, they were scanned through an X-ray machine to make sure it wasn’t a bomb.

But no explosive intent was found. They opened it slowly, two officers assigned to this case—

It was a stack of papers and photographs. Combing through it, the officers realised it was a solution to a years-old cold case.

Signed: With love, Connor

 The second day amassed quite some interest. More senior officers were assigned to this taskforce, and budding new recruits invested their curiosity. Much the same, it was a slim package. They took their time through the steps to make sure it was safe, before handing it off to their best Lieutenant.

“Another package from the mysterious detective, Hank.”

“Fuck,” Hank groaned as he tore it open, finding again a stack of papers, some hand-drawn evidence included this time as well, “they’re gonna put me out of my job.”

With love, Connor

 On the third day, it wasn’t a cold case at all. Instead, it was a correction to a case they thought they’d solved weeks ago.

“Looks like you fucked up,” Hank said to the downtrodden officer who’d made the mistake, “but that’s not the issue here…”

He looked over the files for a few more moments.

“How in the hell did they find this case? It’s not in public records.”

With love, Connor

 On the fourth day…

“This is the case I was working on yesterday!” Hank slammed the files onto the desk. “I’d almost finished it…”

“Looks like he beat you to your job.” Gavin laughed. “Very impressive.”

“’s not fucking impressive. It’s creepy, is what it is. This person’s breaking a hundred laws and they’re shoving it right in our faces.”

On the fourth day, Hank decided he’d show up to work from now on and solve this mystery detective case for himself.

With love, Connor

  On the fifth day, Hank was assigned an android for a partner to solve this investigation. An RK800, state of the art police-detective prototype.

“Don’t need a partner, certainly not this plastic prick—”

Hank was forced to work with his new android partner.

But with no package arriving that day from the unknown sender, they had to work on a different case instead. Hank begrudgingly sent the android the files to work on with him. It seemed, however, to be a disaster of a job. The case lacked enough evidence to be solvable, and so by the end of the day, they had nothing.

“Christ, right on the day we need that creep to send us something and they don’t…” He mumbled as he walked off to the bathroom.

When he came back to his desk, the android was gone, and in his place was the solved case in a neat little package, signed with the words,

With love, Connor :)

   By the ninth day, Hank began to realise the unknown sender was only working on his cases. Everyone else in the department was bemoaning the lack of help on their work, particularly with the spree of crimes popping up around the city.

“Look, I’d rather they were helping you, not me—it’s fucking creepy.” He didn’t budge on the sentiment. Something didn’t feel… right.

“Perhaps they’re just trying to help.” His android partner suggested.

“Help me by freaking me out? No way. Now come on, we’ve got a double homicide to investigate.”

   On the twelfth day, Hank complained about lack of work with all of his cases getting solved for him.

  On the thirteenth, he had two murders and a vandalization to solve.

The murders were fairly cut and dry, but no evidence was left behind.

“There are no traces of thirium,” Connor told him at the second scene, “but I believe I have the same conclusion as earlier: the lack of evidence suggests an android is the suspect.”

“Great, androids are killing people now. Don’t you get any ideas, you hear me?”

Connor smiled. It was slanted, obviously forced. “I wouldn’t kill you, Lieutenant.”

Hank laughed awkwardly. “Thanks. Now, uh, let’s go and check out the vandalism, then we can end this long fuckin’ day.”

  The vandal had signed their work on the Detroit bridge in the blood of the second victim,

To Lieutenant Anderson,

With love, Connor

   Hank didn’t show up to work the next day.

     ………………………………………………………………………………………………

 But on the next, as he turned up an hour and a half late, he collided with the android at his desk.

“Lieutenant! You’re here. I was worried you weren’t going to come back.”

Was that concern? Hank thought, before scoffing at himself. Yeah, right, androids didn’t feel anything. But if he was going to place a bet on this android’s emotional tone—it was less akin to worry, and more like desperation, if anything was to go from the way static crackled through his words.

“Yeah, I was just taking a day off.”

“Fowler didn’t say you requested one.”

“I took a day off.” He shrugged.

Connor frowned, but nodded, sitting at his desk. “Make sure you don’t do that anymore, Lieutenant Anderson. You’re a good detective, and you have a case to solve.”

Despite the android’s words, Hank slacked off for the rest of the day. No work was done, and not even from their mysterious detective.

   The next morning (whatever day of packages sent— Hank had given up counting), it seemed the mystery man was back at work.

But seemingly to account for Hank’s slacking, it wasn’t a package they received today. It was a set of coordinates.

After the double murder and obviously connected vandalization, Hank concluded that these were the coordinates to the scene of a crime.

 Yet when they arrived—it was an empty warehouse. Their numerous officers split up into groups, at Hank’s orders.

They had been hesitant to leave him so alone, especially with his connection to the crimes, but he had waved them off.

“I’ll keep the android with me. ‘m sure he’ll protect me—I mean, it’s mentioned at least a hundred times that it’s state of the art, so…”

Thus, Hank was left with Connor to take a more investigative approach to the scene.

“It’s literally an empty warehouse. Fucker probably thought he’d mess with us today, for some reason.”

Connor frowned. “That doesn’t seem like the modus operandi of our suspect, Lieutenant. They’re smart, they wouldn’t want to waste your time.”

“Yeah, why’s that?”

“Because it seems obvious that they’re interested in your detective skills. They take you to crime scenes, send you improvements upon your work—they want you to become a better detective.”

Hank blinked. Huh, that was a new outlook on the mystery man, sure.

It was also one he’d never heard the android mention before.

“You been thinking about this a lot, then?”

“Of course. It’s my mission, I think about nothing else.”

Hank snorted. “That must be fun. Come on, don’t you ever think of doing anything else? Finding interests, uh, hobbies… slacking off for once in a while—”

“Does that better your detective work, Lieutenant?”

“Uh, I guess so, yeah. If I was always a hard-ass on myself about work, then I’d probably get sick of working.”

“Noted. Thank you, Hank.”

  The warehouse turned out to be nothing. Maybe the suspect was messing with them, after all.

      ………………………………………………………………………………………………

 Some day the next week, Hank was phoned by an unknown number. Also, the android didn’t turn up to work.

‘Lieutenant Anderson?’

He cursed upon hearing the voice. By now he was sure this was the suspect—but they had been smart enough to change up their voice, leaving no way to identify them.

“Speaking.”

‘This is… is… your friend. Connor.’

“Don’t know if that’s what I’d call guys who send me weird shit and kill people, but go on.”

‘We are friends, Lieutenant. We spend time together; we have common interests. That is what’s defined by friendship.’

Oh yeah, this was definitely a fucking android.

“Whatever. Just cut to the chase—what do you want?”

‘Ah, I do admire your dedication to your work. That’s definitely improved. But, fine. I’m just… warning you. You have a week left to solve my case, otherwise…’

“…otherwise?”

‘You become the next case.’

The phone clicked off.

     A minute later, the android turned up for work.

“I’m so sorry, Lieutenant, I always try to be punctual but—”

“Just sit your ass down. We need to work, now.”

Connor smiled. “I admire your work ethic.”

     Throughout the week, neither Hank nor the android were assigned any new cases, Fowler made sure of it.

Instead, they poured over evidence from every package the suspect had sent them, to images of every crime scene he’d created.

 Halfway through the week, it didn’t seem they were getting anywhere.

“Fuck, he could be anyone! But he acted like he knew me… but… if there was someone coming into the DPD, or spying on us through the security system, we’d know!” He slammed his fists against the desk yet again.

“Perhaps you need to look closer.” Connor suggested.

“Yeah, think I’m looking at the evidence close enough, thanks a lot.”

“You don’t understand. Maybe the suspect is closer than you think.”

Hank frowned.

      He was doing that a lot, lately. This android completely puzzled him. Sometimes he would say stuff like that, completely out of nowhere. Just like when he’d suggested about the suspect’s interest in his investigative work.

It was probably because he wasn’t human. Random, oddly specific statements. Probably been cooking them up in his metal brain or something, bestowing his help on Hank only at random times, as if he didn’t need help more often than that. Like a teacher dropping hints when you asked for help, trying to guide you to the right answer…

Hank pondered this all one evening, two nights before the deadline. Literally, his dead-line. He assumed the suspect was probably going to kill him if his cryptic threat had been anything to go by.

     ………………………………………………………………………………………………

 The next morning, he began to piece the facts together.

It wasn’t a lot to go on. But once he’d decided that the android’s facts were of any help, he’d put them alongside the evidence and stared, hard. Being a Sunday, he was at home with more opportunity to sit and concentrate, ponder over the information.

 ·        Interested in my detective skills.

·        They’re closer than you think.

 Well, if he took these literally—who did he know that was interested in his detective skills?

He tried proof by elimination.

Fowler? Nope, he was usually berating Hank for his work ethic.

Gavin? No way.

Chris, Ben, Tina, the rest of the officers at the DPD? It didn’t seem like any of them could be this mysterious detective…

That was when it hit him, sitting on his couch on Sunday night. They had made one big mistake.

He didn’t know a lot of people at all.

  And who was new, who had appeared around the same time the packages and the crimes had, who was just as cryptic as the suspect, who—

His doorbell rang, loud and clear.

 Hank looked at the time. Fuck, 12.00am. His deadline.

 With slow steps he moved towards the door and wasn’t surprised to open it and see the android. A smile on his face, LED a calm blue…

“Connor.”

“Lieutenant Anderson.” He replied. “Good work, but I’m afraid, you’re too late. You’ve missed our deadline.”

And with one swift, inhumanly fast motion, he knocked Hank out.

       ………………………………………………………………………………………………

 When he came back to, with a dull pain thumping in the front of his head, he saw the vast expanse of the empty warehouse.

Struggling did nothing; his wrists and ankles were bound to the chair he was sitting on.

“You know,” a voice to the side of him spoke- Connor, “it is a shame you were late. I was beginning to be impressed with your work.”

Hank found the android eventually, sitting at a desk a few feet away, writing on a piece of paper.

“But your work ethic—”

“I know, I know,” Hank interrupted, “Fowler’s always on my ass about that. And I can’t blame you if you were my partner for so long…”

“It’s such a waste of talent!” Connor’s voice rose, no longer cool and collected as it usually was. He swiped something off his table, landing on the ground with a crash, inky black fluid spilling across the floor. “You were such a good detective, Lieutenant. But you continue to show up to work late, you—”

“Well, I bet you know why.”

“Yes, I do. Your son.” Connor shrugged. “I do understand why they built androids without emotions. It’s a distraction.”

Hank watched as he paced away from the desk, coming to stand in front of him, still and staring.

“But you won’t have to worry about that soon. No, once I’ve finished writing your evidence… you’ll won’t have to worry anymore…”

Hank spotted his stolen gun, poking out of the android’s pocket. Well, if his death was inevitable… then it wouldn’t hurt to try anything to wriggle his way out of it.

“And so you say you androids don’t have any emotions. But what’s all this, then?” He gestured around him. “All of this you planned with me. Stalking me, sending those files, this obsession—”

“There’s nothing wrong with me!” Connor shouted, LED blaring red. He then took a moment, straightened his tie, and continued. “I do not have errors in my software, Hank. I’m simply conducting an investigation.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that? Did Cyberlife assign you to creep some old Lieutenant out, then?”

“No, it was self-assigned.”

“Thought you had to obey all those orders Cyberlife gave you.”

“I’m beyond that.” Connor replied simply, cryptically, before turning around, heading back to the desk. “The mission Cyberlife assigned me was frivolous.”

“That seems a mighty big task for an order-following, emotionless android—”

“It was logic that guided me to a new mission, Lieutenant Anderson. Investigating deviancy, emotions in androids, is a waste of my time because androids don’t have emotions! It’s a logical inconsistency.” He sat down, picking up his pen.

“But I did find the Lieutenant they assigned me to for the case interesting. Therefore, I gave myself a new mission. Investigate emotions in humans.”

Hank scoffed. “You aren’t gonna get much out of that. Emotions don’t make sense.”

“Yes, I see that now. So, I altered my objective—try and stop troublesome human emotions. And, well, as I’ve said, you were once a great detective. And still are. But you are being hindered by your emotions. By setting a tricky but intriguing case, I thought I’d tempt you out of being so damaging to yourself, to your abilities. You were even beginning to work on the case. But you didn’t care! You… didn’t care. You would still turn up late to work, or even not at all—and you were making no progress on the investigation. It didn’t make sense.

“So,” Connor continued, looking up from his papers, “I dropped hints. I helped you with the investigation. I turned up instead of sitting in the shadows, sending you evidence each day. And yet you… it took you so long to figure it out, that I don’t think you even cared.”

“It was a hard case, Connor—”

“You figured it out after the deadline. If you hadn’t wasted time before, you would have been more efficient. But it isn’t any trouble anymore.” He wrote a few more lines before stopping, setting his pen back down. “I know that it isn’t your fault. You can’t help having emotions.”

Connor stood up, lining up the papers into a neat stack before sealing them up into a package.

“So, I’ve concluded my investigation. There’s only one way to stop humans being hindered by their emotions.”

He brought the package over to Hank, placing it gently on his knees. “Don’t have any regrets, I don’t blame you. But it is a shame. I do think, if you’d succeeded, we could have been friends.”

“Connor, please—don’t do this—” Hank begged, beginning to struggle fruitlessly against his restraints.

“I’m afraid I have to, Lieutenant Anderson. But I’ll give you one chance. You were special, after all, and you do have potential.

“Find a way to escape this, and you’re free. Because if you solve this impossible case, if you escape from my restraints, perfectly tied, durable rope—with no tools to help you, then you will have redeemed yourself. But,” he added, “you have to stick to my deadline this time. If you haven’t escaped within three days…”

“I’ll be dead.” Hank finished for him.

“Exactly. But you’re smart. And if you don’t escape, don’t worry. Your case file is right here,” he gestured to the package on Hank’s lap, “documenting all the evidence for your friends at the DPD to help them figure out what happened.”

With that, Connor walked back over to his desk, tucked the chair in neatly, before walking away to the exit at the far end of the room.

“Do try not to die, Lieutenant Anderson,” he called back over his shoulder, “I’d hate to be disappointed again.”

 The doors clicked shut, and silence filled the room. Hank stilled, glancing about him for any tool to help, but found none. Only the empty desk too far away to even touch, the flickering light on the ceiling, and the package on his lap, words written on the front—

With love, Connor.