#like the circumstances are horrible because my sister was definitely afraid to come home to my dead body or something

[chtoblin]

Uh, yeah, I went crazy again and made another Detroit AU.

School AU. Yup, I wanted to do my own rendition of that too. :3

All the androids here are human!

Brothers-rk where:

MARKUS — is an older brother, fifteen years old, in ninth grade. The leader of the class with his company (North, Simon, and Josh, who studies with him; of course, they're all friends (and some of them are even more than just a friend?? It's your choice!) ). Markus is a calm person for the most part, but he has a heightened sense of justice. If one of the students or teachers does something bad to someone, Markus is right there with his friends... He also likes to rebel if there's no pudding in the cafeteria, lol.

Teacher: you need to get into pairs to do this homework.

(Sometime during recess after this lesson...)

North: I'll be the one doing the assignment with Markus!

Simon: no, me! (The two of them get into an argument).

Markus, crossing his arms over his chest and squinting his eyes, watching their argument: ....

Josh: guys, answer me this honestly... you just don't want to do this job with me? :(

Markus, leaning over to Josh, whispering: don't worry, I'll do this project with you and leave these two to pair up.

Josh: :)

Markus loves music lessons, of course!! He participates in the school concert, plays the piano in performances (as musical support for other instruments or solo).

Markus also takes extra art classes in his spare time. There is only one group, which consists of people of all ages, from first graders to twenty-somethings. Carl Manfred, a well-known artist, leads the classes at his home. He is helped by his son Leo, who is a couple of years older than Markus (he is seventeen and is home-schooled with tutors and teachers who visit him at home). Leo doesn't really understand anything about art, and almost always grumbles when he's forgiven to do this or that, but he actually enjoys helping his father, especially given artist's disability. All the more so since he gets pocket money for it.

Markus excelled at drawing very quickly. This has led to the fact that when he comes to class, he only paints a picture at first, further on he helps Carl and Leo in running the lesson. He carries paints and brushes, water, helps the other people in the group with the drawings (giving advice, etc., as he understands a lot about this creative activity). He has become very close to Carl because of this, and the artist, as a grateful, does not charge Markus for attending classes (although the schoolboy tries to pay every time at the end of the month together with everyone else).

Markus' relationship with Leo was not very good at first, because the son of an artist was unconsciously afraid that Carl might develop warm feelings for the ninth grader more than for his own child. But in the end, the two find common ground because they realize that Carl adores the two of them equally!!

CONNOR and SIXTY — are the middle children in the family, twins, in seventh grade, thirteen years old. Their lessons are extremely common, and their interests are almost indistinguishable. The only difference between the two is that Connor is more inattentive and positive. Sixty, on the other hand, usually has that look in his eyes, like he's ready to drop you on the floor and shoot you on the spot. This is especially true if you've done something to offend Connor. In that case, all you have to do is run for your life.

The friends of the twins are Luther, Kara (their classmates), Ralph and Jerry (they are from the tenth grade and are sixteen years old). Outside of school hours, Alice (fifth grade, eleven years old), the younger sister of Kara and Ralph, is still usually with them. The two of them take care of their sister, since their father, Todd, is obviously failing in his duties (in this AU, he's still a bad father, but not as horrible as in the game; at the very least, he definitely wouldn't raise his hand to the kids under any circumstances; their mother hasn't run away from the family, she's just tragically gone).

In addition to their friends, the brothers have good acquaintances in class: Rupert and the two Traci's (two girls from different families, but with the same names and sympathy for each other).

Connor and Sixty are also taking extra classes in magic tricks (which Markus used to take too, albeit not for too long). They really like the subject of tricks and juggling, which is also included there! The two of them are best at coin tricks.

They also have a friend in the class, Cole, an eleven year old boy who is homeschooled. His father, Hank Anderson (who is much younger in this AU), is a Lieutenant in the local police department.

Cole often spends time with the twins outside of trick-or-treating classes. This usually involves the rest of the brothers' friends as well. The closest relationship Cole has is with Alice!

NINES — is the youngest brother, the youngest child in the family (eleven years old), studying in the fifth grade. But despite this, he is the most serious and quiet of all the brothers.

Markus and the twins study well, but Nines is better than all of them put together, almost an excellent student. He does best in math and physical education (he is the fastest and strongest in his class). "Mom's Gold."

Because Nines is serious beyond his years, he thinks the behavior of his peers is too childish (although they behave as they should, according to their age). But he still has a few friends from his classmates: Alice, Elijah, and Chloe. He forgives his friends for their frivolous behavior and gives them preferential treatment.

In his spare time, Nines usually stays at home, self-developing through books or the Internet, reading about topics of interest (which are clearly not quite appropriate for his eleven years of age; how did a child even come to quantum physics so early?!). He likes to study the school program ahead of time. But Nines also spends a lot of time with Alice and Cole, whom he met through her (they go on these outings with just the three of them, without the rest of their friends/relatives, but there are occasional exceptions). With Elijah and Chloe, he usually only talks to them at school or by texting/phone, they rarely go out together since those two live far away.

Elijah has a half-brother the same age, Gavin. Inexplicably, Gavin and Nines have started a feud... well, that's what Reed thinks. Nines thinks it's just childish and views their relationship as "not very good" but is willing to stick with the "enemy" image. When Gavin starts any argument or insults against him, Nines responds calmly and calmly, not taking his provocations (unless Reed moves on to family, for then Nines allows himself to show all his anger). Indifference irritates Gavin even more.

Gavin is only friends with Tina, their mutual classmate. Few other people besides her and Elijah can put up with that kind of temper. Well, Chloe can too, but she doesn't have much desire to socialize with Gavin too closely.

AMANDA — is a single mother of four brothers. Markus was born to her first husband, who soon died, and the other three to her second husband, who then left the family, cheating with another woman when Nines was born.

It's not just the former breadwinner's alimony that the family lives on. Amanda, after the loss of her second husband, realized that on the salary of a professor of artificial intelligence, they will be difficult to live, and got a job as an engineer in the same field in the company Cyberlife. The company makes advanced robot vacuum cleaners, robots for factories, and so on. Generally speaking, they have no money problems. A woman, having failed twice in her relationships with men, focused entirely on her career. In this endeavor she excelled and quickly made a name for herself.

In the role of mother Amanda behaves, to put it mildly, mediocre. Markus' pregnancy was spontaneous and accidental, the newlyweds were not ready for a child. Amanda had no skills of motherhood, and to get them through books or the Internet, she had no desire to do everything blindly (and on their mistakes in the future little learned). After his father's death, the son was mostly on his own, even being so young while his mother was in mourning.

Markus didn't like his stepfather from the start. The new "breadwinner" hardly ever worked, took Red Ice and forced his wife onto it (Amanda still sins on drugs when she gets really sick). Even as a small child, the eldest son understood everything. When the man betrayed their family by getting involved with another woman, Markus was not particularly surprised. The main thing in his life was (and is now) to take care of his younger brothers, to be a support for them, the person from whom you can expect support, help or advice. He didn't have such a person himself, and he didn't want his brothers to be deprived of that.

At the moment Amanda is rather cold and indifferent to the children, speaking to them rarely and usually in a condescending manner, so they are used to rely on themselves and each other's help. Yes, they have a roof over their heads, food in the fridge, their big (though not too cozy) house is warm in any weather and always clean thanks to a couple of servants. But they have always lacked a mother's love. Every time one of her sons tried to get attention (whether it was a drawing made, an offer to go for a walk together, a request to explain some blueprint), Amanda just waved it off, gave her cash (without even looking at how much she was giving) and asked her not to interfere with her work. Connor is most saddened by this: Markus is used to it, Sixty is resigned to it, and Nines realized from the very first failure that there was nothing to try for. Nevertheless, this has allowed a strong bond to build between the brothers. Each other they stand a mountain for, either way.

ADDITIONAL REPORTS:

1. Markus has heterochromia, which he had most of the time in the game. No one dares make fun of him for it, because they're aware of his Justice Gang...

2. Simon has a twin brother, Daniel, who is in the same class with him. His temperament is more closed, and he mainly socializes with his friends. Daniel can sometimes hang out with Simon's company, but this is quite rare.

Everyone confuses Simon and Daniel, but not Markus. He can tell exactly who is who, even if the twins dress the same.

3. Kara goes to extra private lessons with a family friend, Rose. She always takes Alice and Ralph with her if he happens to be home at that moment. Rose teaches Kara and Ralph (if he's available) how to cook (for which she doesn't charge, by the way), while Alice plays with Adam. A woman's son is the same age as Alice, and they would be classmates if Adam wasn't homeschooled.

4. Even though Tina is Gavin's friend, she treats Nines neutrally, like a good acquaintance. And it's mutual. She just doesn't see the point in the boys' "feud" that started from nothing. When Gavin starts another argument, she rolls her eyes and tries to pull him away by his sleeve. And this whole process, which is repeated from day to day, Elijah likes to shoot on his phone, as a souvenir. :D Chloe at such moments just stands helplessly and watches, praying that the argument did not come to a fight (yes, it happened too).

5. Chloe and Tina hang out together on weekends because they go to extra dance classes together. On breaks from practice, they gossip and discuss their friends, looking for ways to best help them bond. At school, they don't socialize as much.

6. Ralph is not Kara and Alice's own brother. He is a distant relative of theirs. A couple years ago, his stepmother (an only parent) died in a fire at his house and he was left alone (he was saddened by this, but not really; they weren't close with his stepmother, he was mostly on his own). The authorities found out that Todd was the only relative, and he took the (at the time) fifteen years old boy into his custody.

At first, Ralph and Kara interacted rather little due to awkwardness (especially since the boy has a shy and slightly geeky personality that sometimes prevents him from socializing). Alice next to Ralph was generally silent and looked at him from afar, avoiding every time he awkwardly tried to speak.

Ralph realized that, due to his temperament, he wouldn't be able to gain trust with words, so he decided to show his good intentions with actions. He always volunteered to help when Kara was cleaning or cooking; he helped Alice get things off the top shelves, even if she wanted to ask her sister; when he was able to get a part-time job at the comic book store (where Jerry also worked) at the mall and got his first paycheck, he bought the girls a candy bar (and many other things after that).

Yes, he was able to skillfully touch the hearts of the girls very, very quickly.

Ralph wears closed clothing in all weathers, even the hottest, because he is very embarrassed by the scars the fire left him. He is especially embarrassed about the scars on the left side of his face, which he hides under a blue cloth tied around his head. And he has a lifetime exemption from physical education at school.

Jerry (with whom they are better friends) is the only one besides his family who has seen Ralph's scars, and he assures him every time that it's nothing to be ashamed of. Ralph is working on it.

7. Sometimes it happens that some random students start making fun of Ralph for his shy and quiet nature and closed clothing items. Jerry always stands up for his friend. But one day it happened that Ralph was all alone. It was a labor lesson on the street, students were sweeping the paths, Ralph went too far and was hidden from the eyes of the teacher and the others, after which he was approached by a company of older guys. The offending boys, feeling their power, allowed themselves, besides the usual jeers, to be physically abused.

Kara and the others, having learned about what had happened, told Connor and Sixty. The twins, in turn, relayed the information to Markus...

... Those abusers felt very, VERY bad when the authorities at the school found out about their deed. :³

8. Everyone turns to the Justice Gang for help, but no one knows exactly how Markus and his friends work. It's very hard to get through to the teachers and even more so to the principal, especially without hard evidence about the injustice that has happened. But this quartet always manages to get both proof and reach the very top of the school. They have their own ways, which they don't talk about...

9. One day, Hank needed to pick up Cole from his extra lesson time, but he himself was running very late due to work. He arrived as soon as he could and found his son on the playground that was built next to the building where the class was held. But the boy was not alone, he was playing catch-up with two twins, who were obviously older than him. That's how Hank found out about Connor and Sixty. That afternoon he decided to invite the two of them over for a cup of tea to get to know his son's friends better.

The first thing Connor did upon entering the Anderson house was to turn his attention to Sumo. Together with Cole, he ran up to the dog, after which the two of them began to play with the dog. Connor literally flooded Hank with questions about their pet. Sixty, seeing the expression on the man's face, took it for embarrassment, hidden behind an awkward smile, and because of that he signaled his brother to stop the endless flow of inquisitiveness. But, in fact, the Lieutenant was hiding a pleasant surprise, not expecting such an enthusiastic reaction to the dog. This gave the brothers a plus point or two on their way to winning the man's heart.

Sixty soon sat down beside Sumo as well and petted him, but much more modestly than his brother.

In fact, the twins had always wanted to get a dog, but for some reason Amanda kept saying no. Their family had enough money, and the brothers didn't understand what the problem was. So every time Connor and Sixty come to visit the Andersons, they don't miss the opportunity to pet Sumo. Sometimes they even volunteer to walk the dog with Cole.

10. While the twin brothers dreamed of a dog, Nines was more fond of cats. But he did not feed himself with false hopes, just kept the desire to have a pet deep inside, as he realized that his mother would not allow an animal even to her "golden kid" (the woman liked to occasionally elevate her youngest son above all the others, which Nines was always sincerely NOT happy about; good, the other brothers themselves understood that the youngest would never allow himself arrogance in their direction).

At school, when the lessons became boring (which happened often, because Nines studied much of the future program on his own at home), he drew on blank sheets that he tore out of his notebooks. Almost always they were airplanes, cars, incomplete and unfinished drawings of some invented mechanism. But sometimes Nines gave in to temptation and drew cats (which he did best, because it was cats that Markus had taught him to draw).

One day he saw a picture of Elijah's pet nibelung cat on his phone. Until then, he didn't know his friend had a pet.

Nines drew two small drawings of this cat in a boring literature class. One he'd given to Elijah and the other he'd tossed folded in a pencil case to Gavin while he wasn't looking. Nines found no logical explanation for his action, and his friends sometimes teased him about it.

Gavin was surprised to find a pretty good drawing of his pet cat in the pencil case and thought at first of his half-brother. But Elijah doesn't do much painting, he's more of a man of science, so Gavin was left in confused ignorance. (Tina, seeing the drawing, immediately realized who it was from, but remained silent).

11. Markus, in the middle of some explanation: and since we all understand where babies come from-

Connor: do we? I don't understand.

Markus: ... oh.

Sixty: are you serious?

Connor: you know??

Nines, defiantly clearing his throat: everyone knows but you.

Connor: EVEN YOU?

Yeah, Connor is an innocent flower.

12. Usually the friends who argue at every turn are Josh and North, but when it comes to Markus... Simon shows up and things take a whole new turn.

These arguments are always won by Josh, who stands quietly and watches the conflict along with Markus.

Markus: I'm doing this project with Josh, period. You two will be paired together.

North and Simon, who have been arguing for about three minutes over which one Markus will be paired with: ._.

Josh: :D

13. Connor once noticed that Kara and Alice always hold hands when they walk together, and now does the same with Sixty. The twin called his idea silly, grumbling unhappily every time Connor took his palm in his own, but has never once tried to release his hand yet. Markus thinks this little ritual is cute. Actually, a lot of people think it's cute, it's just that big brother is the only one who can admit it out loud and not get someone's murderous stare...

My dear mental health, where have you gone...

I VERY strongly hope I didn't mix up anything in my own fanon. And if I did, I'll just go on a bender. (´。＿。｀)

I made a chart showing all the relationships between the characters, thinking it would help me. But in the end I got even more confused and I'm not even sure if I've put everything in the right place. But anyway, I decided to leave it for you too, maybe it will help you. The quality was terrible and I fixed what I could, sorry about that. :_/

Maybe if I accumulate another compilation of some more situations/fanon on the characters, I'll put it in a new post. Who knows how this medal will turn out.

[littlequeenies]

The online Demri book is so good!! I've known about Demri for nearly 10 years now but there's stuff in there I hadn't read before, you did a great job. I would be so curious to know more about her flaws, as weird as that sounds. I think she's always come across as a perfect human which makes it feel she was almost supernatural. I have trouble articulating it fully in a short message, because I also know that loved ones would rather not speak poorly of her and want to focus on the good, and that should be respected. But I don't know, I think it would be nice to know about her more 'fully'. It seems alluded to in the book and it made me wonder. Flaws make people more relatable, she's always seemed unattainably perfect to me, even with the darkness and addiction. Anyway, great book, and I hope I explained this with the nuance and tact that I intended!

Hi anon, thank you for your question, it is very interesting indeed. We will first let her family and friends talk about the subject.

One aspect of Demri’s personality, according to Austin [Demri’s mom], was her inability to handle guilt. In Austin’s words, “If she offended you, and you didn’t have a cell phone or anything, she would start calling your house, waiting for you to get home to apologize.”

Kathleen Austin: Her concern for others was far beyond her concern for herself.

Barbara Dearaujo: She was constantly on the run. Not sure it was running scared but running for sure. Maybe she was afraid of missing out or just looking for the next thing to stimulate her. I have no clue what it was but I definitely could not keep up with her and whenever I tried or whoever tried we all would end up just as sick, lost and confused and most of us would tap out. She never tapped it seemed, no matter how horrible the circumstances got she could deal with it. Crazy. I wouldn’t call her suicidal but definitely self-destructive. Poor girl. Such a sad story. Demri always and forever a wild wood pixie.

Fabiola Gonzalez: The beautiful soul of Demri is she never had an ounce of hate in her heart. She loved everyone. She was so unconditional even when she was judged and even faulted on her own self-love. She was a good person. Better to others than she was to herself.

Krista Kay: She also had some rough times and went down a heartbreaking road. She was beautiful and complicated, and unforgettable, and human.

Krista Kay: Want to honor their [Demri's and Layne's] memory? Pursue your dreams and talents, lift up others, and take care of your body and mind.

Keli Lake: Demri is special to me because she inspired my self-confidence. It’s complicated since she lacked it herself. It’s like she gave it all away until she was depleted.

Rob Meiser: She was a good person with a big heart but she was fighting demons like most of us.

Jacque Nakken: She always wanted to make others happy, more than herself.

Elsa Schmolke: It’s all very sad but Demri was certainly loved but just so out of control nobody could help her.

Scott Spivey: Always kindness even when she struggled so hard with her demons.

Mara Wheelan: My dear soul sister, she extracted the truly beautiful parts of my soul and made me unafraid. She brought light into the depths of darkness from within. She loved all my ugliness and glorified my uniqueness.

Chay Wilkerson Moore: Demri was like a beautiful flower stuck in a tornado. She was very sweet, most of the time. Always yelled my name and hugged me, made me feel special, like she did most people. Very strong spirit, very bent on destruction, I don’t know why... [She was] The most powerful pretty little thing, with this profound sense of vulnerability that she seemed surrounded by. A princess in distress. I immediately felt the need to protect her in a brotherly way.

For what we've learnt about Demri trough all these years, and reading what her closest people said about the subject, is that she had a poor mental health. She had an addiction in the first place, an addiction usually is the consequence of a poor mental health. She may also was not very self-confident or self-conscious, she always wished the best for all the others but didn't apply to herself. Like Robbie Williams, sometimes the people that look the happiest, have the worst demons, and with no professional help, it is very difficult to fight them.

Maybe she went to drug therapy and I guess that included mental health therapy. But back in the day that was taboo. Still today it looks you are crazy or insane if you admit you go (or have been) to therapy (and I have been and still go!), so imagine back then. Plus if she didn't have the money nor the support, probably for her it was easier to escape her demons by actually taking the thing that caused them - the drugs.

I always find her story so tragic. So young. With so many people around that cared about her, and still she succumbed to drugs. I suppose is what Jerry Cantrell said about Layne. All the band members and his mum tried to help him, but they had their own struggles as well, and if ultimately he didn't want to be helped... there's not much you can do. I wish she could have let herself help.

The book is here for everyone to read it. Please, take care of yourself, look for help and support if you need it. Mental and emotional health are as important as physical health.

[katsukavi]

"OH SHIT!" part 2

"I WANT AN ABORTION." Sung Jin-Woo said abruptly, tapping his foot up and down from the agitation. "I'm afraid that's not possible. The baby is far too healthy and because of the amount of health potions you drank, it will be almost indestructible by our means. It even accelerated its growth.."

Sung Jin-Woo didn't think that far into it that night. He gave the baby's father an icy glare and took out his dagger from his inventory. "You can't abort it by your means huh..." he locked (M/n)'s hand onto the hilt and pointed it at his stomach.

"(M/n)! Stab me!"

"HELL NO!"

"Why not? We're already at the hospital, so you could just rush me to the emergency room when I start bleeding," Jin-Woo explained, but that still didn't make a drop of sense to (L/n) (M/n). "NOT IN A MILLION YEARS WILL I STAB YOU!"

"Fine. I'll stab myself."

"No!"

The doctor's face paled at the S-Rank hunter's lack of care for his unborn baby's life—even attempting to stab himself. Luckily, (L/n) (M/n) was there to stop him before the blade could touch his skin.

"Jin-Woo! Come on, you could just hold on to it until you give birth. We could set it up for adoption later.."

"I don't have time to wait 5 months. I could be leveling up using that time."

Scratch that. (L/n) (M/n) was also a horrible parent-to-be. The doctor forced a smile, wondering if all S-Rank Hunters were like this. He cleared his throat and stared back at them.

"How did you even conceive this child?"

"I have no idea. I drank too much. Hey, aren't you immune to alcohol?" (M/n) nudged Jin-Woo's shoulder, since he was the one that wanted to play video games all night. "I don't know. I can't remember much either. There was this scent.."

"I see. It must've been a heat."

"No? I wouldn't have left the house if that were the case."

"Then..." The doctor's eyes set on to (L/n) (M/n), making him feel a cold sweat. The man with red eyes smiled awkwardly, blinking repeatedly at the doctor. "Why are you looking at me?"

"It's incredibly rare but I assume you went through a rut, Sir. So I understand how you may perceive this as unbelievable since this situation is one in a billion or even more so." The doctor scratched the back of his head, trying to consider the rarity of the situation.

It was even more impossible if he considered the fact that male alpha and omegas were less likely to have a baby, then they were both S-Rank Hunters, both with their respective systems and (L/n) (M/n) had suffered from a rut that only one in five alphas experience.

[The Orion System is extremely happy!]

[☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆]

[The Orion System is wondering if it would be a girl or a boy??]

[The System is rejoicing for your offspring.]

"I hope it becomes a miscarriage. I'm too busy for this," Sung Jin-Woo said, glaring at his slightly bloated stomach. "Since you are a male omega, there is a 78% chance it would be a miscarriage if you're constantly stressed and you didn't receive professional help from us.."

"Good. I'm already stressed from this situation."

[The Orion System is ignoring your wife's statement.]

[Yay! Baby! ＼＼\\٩( ^ω^ )و //／／]

'He's not my wife, you stupid system. We're friends at best,' (M/n) thought at his system. He and Jin-Woo left the hospital with conflicted thoughts. (M/n) wasn't as extreme as Jin-Woo to forcibly kill it, but he was wondering what he should do next.

That's right. They were hunters. They didn't have time to raise a baby when they could be saving lives through dungeons. It's a simple choice of one life for one hundred.

[The Orion System is rejoicing for you.]

[The Orion System has contacted (totally didn't take over wink wink) the Player System for the child's sake. (*'ω｀*)]

[The Player System has agreed!! ٩( ᐛ )و yay! yay!]

'What are you celebrating for? Stupid Orion..' (M/n)'s mood turned sour, looking away from his system. Jin-Woo held his phone and pressed Jin-Ho's contact, making (M/n)'s eyebrow twitch. "Oi, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to contact Jin-Ho. He's the Vice Guild Master of Ah-Jin so he has to understand our circumstances."

"What? You know how weird that kid's imagination is. What if he thinks something weird?"

"I'll blame you for that then." Jin-Woo shrugged, his phone ringing for a few seconds before Yoo Jin-Ho picked up. "Hello Hyung-nim. Are you doing okay now?" Jin-Ho's voice made Jin-Woo smile, responding quickly.

"Yeah. I just visited the hospital."

"Ohh. Is (M/n) Hyung with you?"

"Yeah, he's right beside me. Turns out I have to lessen my work hours."

"I understand. You are the Guild Master, Hyung-nim. Everything is up to you. But why do you need to?"

"I'm pregnant."

Yoo Jin-Ho choked on his saliva, falling into a coughing fit as he doubted his ears. "Excuse me? What?"

"You didn't hear? I'm pregnant?"

"THAT'S BAD HYUNG-NIM! YOU NEED A FULL VACATION, NOT REDUCING YOUR HOURS!" The beta shouted, making everyone else in the office stare at him. What?! His Hyung-nim was pregnant? So he had a secret lover this entire time, and he didn't know?

"Then, could you decrease (M/n)'s work hours?"

"Yeah, sure. Why him though?"

(L/n) (M/n) hid his face in his hands, feeling so embarrassed that Jin-Woo just admitted that out loud. His own system was bombarding him with weird messages as well, it was creepy.

[There's no need to be embarrassed, Predator-nim~]

[( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). We all know what you did~~]

"He's the father of my child."

Jin-Ho choked yet again, throwing his fist at his desk as he fell silent. So (L/n) (M/n) and Sung Jin-Woo had been in that kind of relationship the entire time? Sure, he didn't know a lot about Sung Jin-Woo but even (L/n) (M/n)?

Is that the reason he joined Ah-Jin? So he could see his lover?

Then all those times they left together..

"Jin-Ho? Are you still there?"

"...If you need any help, you can call me Hyung-nim."

'Oh my God, so they were doing that so many times Hyung-nim got pregnant?!' Yoo Jin-Ho's face flushed as his imagination ran wild, smashing his forehead on his desk to cleanse his mind. 'I'M SO DENSE! I SHOULD'VE REMINDED THEM TO USE PROTECTION!'

"Yoo Jin-Ho-nim.. Is anything wrong with the Guild Master?"

"Ah nothing, he's just on maternity leave."

"What?"

"Huh, he hung up. He must've been shocked.." Jin-Woo said, looking up blankly as (L/n) (M/n) gritted his teeth. His face was red, mostly out of embarrassment than out of anger. "SHOCKED MY ASS! OF COURSE HE'D BE SHOCKED! AND WHY DID YOU TELL HIM IT WAS ME?"

"What else should I tell him? He politely asked who was the father."

[The Orion System agrees with your wife.]

[Calm down, host!! ＼＼\٩(๑'^'๑)۶//／／]

(L/n) (M/n) took a deep breath, rubbing his temples to soothe himself. "Okay, let's just call it a day and go home and sleep." (M/n) felt like it had sucked his life out of him, so he just wanted to sleep.

"I'll see you then."

Sung Jin-Ah was feeling suspicious for the past two weeks, noticing that her older brother's movements have become strange. At first she thought he got sick, but that would be strange for a sickness to last weeks, especially since he's an S-Rank Hunter.

"Hey, I ordered pizza. You feeling okay, bro?"

"Yeah. I visited the hospital earlier," Jin-Woo said, plopping down on the couch beside her. "Where's Mom?" he asked, grabbing a slice of pizza from the box. "She went out to get something. So she said she wouldn't be able to cook tonight," Jin-Ah answered him.

As soon as Jin-Woo took a bite from his pizza, his face turned sour. He swallowed it and bitterly gulped a glass of water. "Actually, I don't want any."

"Huh? What do you mean you don't want any? You practically inhale this stuff!"

"It doesn't taste good."

"It tastes just fine, get over here!"

Sung Jin-Woo completely ignored his beta sister and holed up in his room. Confusion crossed her face as she gobbled up a slice of pizza. 'Something weird is definitely going on with him.. He's sus...'

The next morning, Jin-Woo got up early to do his daily regimen. But his fatigue had raised twice the number it had before. He felt annoyed from it and tried even harder, exhausting himself in the process.

'I haven't even done half yet?'

[[The Player System has cancelled the 'Daily Quest: Preparation to be Powerful'.]]

[[The Orion System has requested it to be changed to 'Daily Quest: Meet up with your Husband<3']]

Sung Jin-Woo wanted to middle finger the systems and ignored the new Daily Quest, thinking it was an awful prank from Orion. (That Constellation liked to bug them a lot.) So he continued to do the old Daily Quest, but he unfortunately got sent to the Penalty Zone all the same.

["Since you lovers don't wanna meet up. I have no choice but to force you! Hmph!! ヽ('⌒'メ)ノ"]

"I— Jin-Woo?!" (L/n) (M/n) hollered, his eyes setting on his partner on top of a floating marble platform. Jin-Woo was behind a translucent wall, safely protected in a small room filled with comfortable pillows, blankets and cute stuffed animals. Just in front of him was a coffee table with a full set of snacks one could crave for.

[[You can sit back and watch the show~ Daddy is going to go on a little run!! ＼(٥⁀▽⁀ )／]]

FWOOSHHH!!

On (M/n)'s side of the wall was a scorching, fiery desert, his shoes sinking in white sand as an enormous monster rose from the ground. The gigantic lizard roared, sending a breath of flames towards (L/n) (M/n) as he tried to run for his life. He screamed and cursed at the system while Jin-Woo watched from above like his Alpha was a gladiator.

"FUCK! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS THING?!"

"ORION! WHY THE HECK IS HE BEING CHASED BY LIZARDS?!?" Jin-Woo punched the orange wall, making it glitch for a few seconds before spitting his fist back inside the enclosed room. He could only look down at (M/n) with worry, slamming into the wall to attempt an escape to go help him.

[[HEY!! Don't help that idiot! He's a loser who doesn't even bother to look after his pregnant wife! (҂' ﾛ ')]]

[[You know what! Since he's so bad, let's go torture him more! Yay! Yay!!]]

Three more lizards surfaced from the sand, breathing fire like dragons. (M/n)'s face paled in shock as he retrieved his rapier from his inventory. A fifth lizard rose from where he stood, making him tumble down on the sand as it bellowed a menacing tune.

"UGH.. FIVE OF THESE THINGS?!" (M/n) shouted, burning his palms from the hot sand as he tried to get up and away from such a life-threatening situation. Sung Jin-Woo felt more anxiety for (M/n) and banged on the walls.

"DO YOU WANT HIM TO DIE!?"

[[Don't worry~ He won't die. He can handle it! (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b]]

[[He has to be at least this strong to be a wonderful Daddy of course. ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ]]

"We're not even keeping the baby!" Jin-Woo glared at the cute emoticon on his screen and gave it a middle finger. He took out his dagger from his inventory, slicing open the wall and using the slight gap to escape.

[[Wait! No! If you get hurt, the baby will die! ＼(º □ º l|l)/]]

"Good," Jin-Woo said with a smirk, landing on top of one of the lizard's heads. "Hey, you need a little help?" he shouted after (M/n), riding safely on the monster. It only seemed to be hostile towards (M/n) and not him.

[[NOO! IF IT ATTACKS MOMMY, ALL HOPE IS LOST! ＼(╥ _ ╥ l|l)/]]

"Nah, I got it!" (M/n) responded, sliding under one lizard's feet and stabbing it's heart from underneath. Its skin was thick, but (M/n)'s high strength stat could make up for it. The beast let out a small cry of pain as his blade pierced through like a needle. He soon coated the blade in a reddish orange hued mana, poisoning the lizard internally in just a few seconds.

"Jeez. I was a little panicked. But I'm fine," (M/n)'s skin was harder than steel, like an indestructible material. Just like in the myth of Orion, he was like the indomitable scorpion that the legendary Hunter could not beat.

"I was a little offended, you know."

[Noo!! Predator-nim, I hate you!! ((╬◣﹏◢))]

[Hmph! Hmph! You big IDIOT! ]

"Orion, shut up."

[FINE THEN! I'LL REMOVE ALL OF THESE LIZARDS! ヽ( 'д'*)ノ]

[I'll be nice to you just because wifey's pregnant okay! humph!]

[Go kiss kiss fall in love now! I don't wanna see you be stupid IDIOTS! (҂ òзó )]

The lizards evaporated quickly like Orion made them out of ice in the blistering sun, making Jin-Woo suspended into the air. (M/n) reached out his hands and ran under him, catching him quickly in his arms. Jin-Woo could've landed safely on his feet, he wasn't that fragile..

But in (M/n)'s princess carry, he felt some sense of relief. Jin-Woo hugged him, inhaling a breath of his friend's pheromones. (M/n) really enjoyed wearing Axe Body Spray (a pheromone masking agent in this world) because he always met up with an Alpha female named Cha Hae-In. It was because of that, Jin-Woo didn't notice any of his alpha pheromones.

But with a whiff, he preferred this version. It made him imagine the fragrance of lit scented candles. It was a very specific scent that calmed him down. "Hm, are you okay?" (M/n) asked, making Jin-Woo snap out his momentary trance. What was going with him?

"Yeah, uhm. Were you still sleeping?" Jin-Woo took notice of (M/n)'s disheveled hair and casual set of light blue pajamas. "Oh right, I haven't showered yet.. Fuck. My handsome complexion!" (M/n) said dramatically, looking down to his lovely rapier covered in sand.

As much as he wanted to get it and polish it until it was shiny, he didn't want to drop Jin-Woo yet. It seems like Jin-Woo was the same, wrapping his arms around his neck in a comfortable hug. Yeah, they should hug more often. It was very comfortable.

[Yes!! NOW KISS!! ٩(♡ε♡)۶]

"Ew gross, Orion is back from a tantrum.." (M/n) set Jin-Woo back down, making a look of disgust. Jin-Woo also didn't like the constellation. So he joined (M/n) in spiting it with all the malice he could.

[Ugh, you guys are so mean! (︶︹︶ ||| )]

[It's like you're perfect for each other. (You are btw (^ω~))]

[I'll bring you back home now. (╬ Ò﹏Ó)]

"Oh nice. This is your room?"

"It's a little messy, but don't mind it too much." Jin-Woo scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, not knowing what to do in such a situation. He and (M/n) had teleported back to his house together, convenient for him. But (M/n) was still in his pajamas.

"Damn, I haven't even combed yet. How do you expect me to walk home in this?" (M/n) sighed, fixing his bedhead with one hand as he scratched his stomach with the other. Even though he just went through a terrifying experience, he was still tired and planned to sleep until noon.

"I mean you could run like really really fast. You'd just be a blur to normal people."

"But.. I haven't been to your house before.." (M/n) looked around Jin-Woo's room. Despite him claiming that it was messy, no clothes or wrappers were on the floor and the only thing messy were his blankets. This guy's sense of "messy" was on a whole other level.

(M/n) just leaves his cans of energy drinks, chips and bowls on the floor and leaves the cleaners to go clean it up. His appearance was the only thing that was respectable.

"So I can't navigate on my own. You know."

"You can use Google Maps."

"I don't bring my phone everywhere."

"You don't? I thought you were an addict."

"Your perceptions of me are so warped. What even made you think I was a beta?" (M/n) sighed, glancing over to Jin-Woo's stomach before blushing. He wasn't that different. He thought Jin-Woo was an alpha precisely because he gave off those vibes.

"Ah, it was your Hunter Wikipedia page. I skimmed over it a while ago.."

"My Hunter Wiki what??" (M/n) got confused, watching Jin-Woo take out his cellphone and search something online. He peered over his shoulder, watching him scroll down to the gender option. It actually said [Beta Male].

"That's really stupid. What part of me is beta?"

Sung Jin-Woo looked over to (L/n) (M/n) for a few seconds, his appearance to his language. Yeah.. (M/n) was right. What part of him seemed Beta? (M/n) right then screamed 'I-AM-A- DOMINANT-ALPHA. STAY-5-METERS-AWAY-FROM-ME-BECAUSE-I-WILL-ATTACK-YOU'

Then, he saw his picture on the wiki. Jin-Woo held his phone up and looked to his left and right, comparing the one in person, to the picture. "Now that I've thought of it, this is the first time I've seen you in pajamas."

(L/n) (M/n) was someone that barely swore, kept calm and wore modest clothing. But it looked like stress took over him so much it affected his personality. His mouth was foul with curses.

"Yeah, I mean the last time you saw me, I was naked."

"Oh," Jin-Woo blurted out, his face heating with that in mind. (M/n) quickly shut his mouth and looked away shyly, fixing his hair to seem more like himself. "Now we're in this situation, huh?" (M/n) mumbled, staring down at Jin-Woo's belly. It wasn't noticeable, but it showed a bump if you touched it.

"Do you.. wanna hug?" (M/n) diverted his vision away from Jin-Woo, a light blush on his face. "What made you say that?" Jin-Woo asked calmly, avoiding looking at (M/n). The (h/c)-haired alpha cleared his throat, extending his arms in the air.

"I don't know. You seemed to like it earlier.."

[Definitely you right now: Σ>―(〃°ω°〃)♡→]

[(￢‿￢ )]

Sung Jin-Woo nodded, placing his chin on (M/n)'s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around his torso. The same fragrant pheromone relaxing him enough to close his eyes. He felt safe in those arms, like he was under an unbreakable set of armor. "I feel like I could fall asleep like this.."

(L/n) (M/n) didn't know why his heart was beating so quickly, making his skin feel like they were on fire just from touching this omega. "We should hug more often," he said, rubbing on Jin-Woo's back calmly. It was fine for friends to hug, right?

But could we could even consider them friends when one of them was pregnant?

"Oppa, I think we ran out of dish soap—" Sung Jin-Ah opened the door, letting out an 'Oh' sound as she gazed at her brother. Then, Sung Jin-Woo noticed how odd it was to have (L/n) (M/n) there. "Wait, Jin-Ah! It's not what you think—"

"MOOOMMM!! JIN-WOO HAS A SECRET ALPHA BOYFRIEND!!"

"Sung Jin-Ah!" Jin-Woo yelled, squeezing her cheeks with one hand as she struggled to run away. "I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT SO BAD WHEN I SMELLED ALPHA PHEROMONES ON YOU! IT'S VERY STRONG NOW!!" she screamed and kicked her feet in the air.

"Hold on. I'm not his boyfriend—"

"LET GO OF ME, OPPA! WHY ARE YOU SO STRONG?!"

(M/n)'s voice gradually got weaker as he pursed his lips awkwardly. There was no room to protest in the screaming girl in the room casually being battled to the death by her older brother. He just gave up.

It was that quick giving up that people thought he was a beta.

"Oh! You finally brought home your boyfriend. That's great," Park Kyung-He said as she stood on the doorframe. She smiled at (M/n), then stared at his sleepwear. "Jin-Woo! You even let him stay without telling us?"

"I didn't—"

"Shush! I know it could be embarrassing to reveal your first love. Come on, dear. What's your name?" she looked over to (M/n), waving her hand to call him over. "It's (L/n) (M/n), Maam.. Nice to meet you," he said shyly, not even refuting her words at all.

His cute demeanor made Kyung-He fall in love with him already. What a good future son-in-law. No wonder Jin-Woo liked him.

"Ah, come here now (M/n). I'll cook you breakfast too."

"If you don't mind me intruding. Thank you.." (M/n) said, following Kyung-He like he was an imprinted chick. "I'll be there too!" Jin-Ah said, wrestling with Jin-Woo's arm. "Let me go, you jerk! I wanna see what your boyfriend is like!"

"I already told you. He's not my boyfriend."

"Why are you even saying that at this point?" Jin-Ah made a face at him and slipped through his grasp, running out of his room in fear that he would catch her again. "I caught you red-handed! Hehe!!"

[[(¬‿¬ ) hehe..]]

"Orion.. What have you done to my system?" Jin-Woo grumbled, walking out of his room with a long sigh. He could explain to them later that he and (M/n) were just friends. But sadly, he would never get the opportunity to.

"So, when did you and Jin-Woo meet? Was it nice?"

"Oh! I met him at work. He was my partner for a while. And you know, when I saw him, he was so scary I thought he was an alpha!" (M/n) was suddenly very talkative, amusing the curious Kyung-He and Jin-Ah.

"Ohh.. So how did you fall in love?"

"We didn't!" Jin-Woo butted in, receiving sympathetic eyes from his family. "Oh, so it was Jin-Woo who fell first. I see," Kyung-He assumed. He asked (M/n) how he did, but it was her son that answered. Their romance was very cute.

"No.. That's not.."

"Wow, I didn't think Oppa would be the one to confess. He's being super shy about it right now. How could he even proclaim his love now..?" Jin-Ah exclaimed in shock, looking over to (L/n) (M/n). He did provide the juicy details she wanted in a romance novel. Jin-Ah approve!

But even though he was the one who confessed, why is he suddenly saying they weren't together? Was her Oppa too shy about it and only stayed sweet in front of his one true love? Isn't that.. too cute?!

"Huh? What are you all talking about? Jin-Woo didn't confess to me?"

Sung Jin-Ah's world was then flipped upside down. It all made sense. Jin-Woo was denser than the Earth itself. If (M/n) was he one who asked him out, it would make even more sense! Their trope was... Shy Omega x Outgoing Alpha! Jin-Ah prayed internally to her lord and savior, KatsuKavi. She was in a romance novel and she could watch the protagonists.

"Oppa, you're no fair! How did you get this lucky with KatsuKavi's pairing rituals?!"

"Who?!"

"The author!"

(A/N: ignore the fourth wall. There is no such thing.)

"Ah, we got too distracted! (M/n) could you clear the table?" Park Kyung-He stood up, moving towards the sink. (M/n) nodded obediently and helped her wash the dishes. Jin-Woo was dumbfounded at his goody good behavior.

He didn't even clean up at his own house. What was he doing being so good with his mother and sister?

"You're a good kid, (M/n). I approve of you."

"Thank you," (M/n) said, chatting a little bit with Kyung-He until he could call her 'Mom'. Sung Jin-Woo gritted his teeth as he watched (L/n) (M/n) be the new favorite.

"Oppa, (M/n) is so good to us. How dare you hog him for yourself," Jin-Ah glared at him from across the room, getting an angry look from Jin-Woo. "Wow, so possessive.." she murmured to herself, skipping happily to her new brother-in-law.

Possessive? No, Jin-Woo wasn't being possessive. He must've just been jealous (L/n) (M/n) was getting all the attention. But when did Jin-Woo start caring about being the center of attention?

He looked over to his best friend, biting his lip to ignore the tight feeling in his chest. He wanted to scream 'look at me!', but he was so dense he didn't know who he wanted to look at him.

"Ah, that's Jin-Woo?! He looks totally different!" (M/n) exclaimed, looking through Jin-Ah's older photos of Jin-Woo. He did look like an omega before, but he drastically changed after becoming a S-Rank Hunter. It was like he was a totally different person.

"Yeah, he used to be so cute and sunny. Now look at him! He's growling at me for taking you away from him."

"I am not growling at you!" Jin-Woo argued, knitting his eyebrows together. He didn't know why, but he felt so annoyed being so far away from Jin-Ah and (M/n). Normally, he wouldn't care but for some weird reason, he didn't like being treated like air.

(L/n) (M/n) soon changed out of his sleepwear and took a nice shower. He didn't wear any pheromone masking agent, so everyone could smell his masculine pheromones leaking out. As much as Jin-Woo liked it, he felt a little annoyed that his 'friend' was being used as incense.

"Mom, did you let him wear dad's clothes?"

"Mhm. It wasn't being used anyway," Kyung-He answered Jin-Woo. She put her hands together, making a sad smile as he looked over to (M/n). "I think it should go to good use, you think?"

"Yeah."

"He suits it well, right?"

"Yeah."

"He's more handsome now, isn't he?"

"I agree."

Sung Jin-Woo crossed his arms over his stomach. (L/n) (M/n) was very attractive in his eyes and a fuzzy feeling would come when thinking of him. "I can tell you really love him. So don't let him go." Kyung-He coaxed Jin-Woo. His mind was blank, only focusing on (M/n).

"Yeah."

"Oi, Jin-Woo! Why did you smile so weirdly in this photo!"

'Ah, I hate him so much,' Jin-Woo thought as (M/n) made fun of him. "Don't look at those!" he marched over, snatching the photo album from his hands while Jin-Ah and (M/n) laughed on the floor.

"Pfft! I don't want our child to look like that!"

"It'll be even worse if it looked like you!"

"I'm a handsome bastard and you know that!"

"I didn't know you wanted children. I hope they look beautiful in the future," Jin-Ah's eyes sparkled at the thought of cute children saying 'Aunt' at her. She wanted to squeeze their chubby cheeks immediately.

"Wait five months, then you decide if the baby will look good."

"Five months? So you're getting married in five months?"

"What? No, I mean Jin-Woo is giving birth in five months." (M/n)'s laughter soon ceased into silence as Jin-Woo walked closer to him menacingly. He then understood why (M/n) didn't want him to tell Jin-Ho about his circumstances. It was so embarrassing for them to know. Now they're never going to let him give it up.

In front of his family, his face became tomato red with both anger and embarrassment as he crouched down to strangle (L/n) (M/n). "Why did you tell them, you dumbass?!"

"Eh?? I thought they already knew from how you told Jin-Ho from the moment we left the hospital."

"Shut up." Jin-Woo balled his fist and set it in the air, his other hand on (M/n)'s chest to prevent him from moving. "Wait, wait! Don't actually—"

"Oppa, you're pregnant?" Sung Jin-Ah's shock had multiplied by 900, so did her happiness. "MOM! IM GOING TO BE AN AUNT! WOOHOO!" She stood up from her place and fetched her phone with a massive smile. She was going to brag to all her friends all about it, wasn't she?

"This is a pleasant surprise. Jin-Woo! You don't tell us about anything going on your life." Kyung-He also smiled, half scolding Jin-Woo. He was already 24, so he could decide as an adult. She had no problem with it. "First, you're a hunter, then your secret fiancee, now your child? Hoo, you.."

Wait, why did secret alpha boyfriend evolve into fiancee? They weren't getting married after the birth of the child!

(M/n)'s ears were about to bleed. He forgot about it! But because of their excessive happiness, he couldn't bring himself to disagree with what they were saying in fear they'd be disappointed. So he could only regrettably nod.

[Yay! Yay! Baby!!]

[We're getting a little hunter!! (☆ω☆)]

Jin-Woo's complexion became pale blue. They were doomed.

[lizacstuff]

Your thoughts on the epi? And the trailers? I'm loving the in love Edser! We've waited so long for this!!!

This episode was so fun and fluffy! I don't know about you, but I am enjoying the tone during this second season. A lot. I don't care how stupid the audition process was for the spot in the school, it gave us some very good comedy and a lot of USTy, sexy, flirty goodness.

And like you, I also love in love Edser!

Thankfully this episode was dominated by Edser, and with Kiraz at Granny's house we even got some alone time. The supporting characters were used to good effect this episode, Engin and Piril were the funniest they've ever been, Kerem and Pina served to poke Serkan about his mentoring style, and it was actually nice to have an excuse for Ayfer and Aydan to share a storyline again.

(more under the cut)

However, we'll start with Burak and Melo. UGH. I mean I love Melo and Elcin has done a really good job of showing Melo's heartbreak and trying to hide her melancholy behind her usual bubbly personality, but I really can't stand that it's over such a dud of a character. I know I'm a broken record here but Melo deserves better than this fool. Honestly, he's such a bland sad sack I don't really get why Melo loves him, Eda wants to be friends with him and Ayfer thinks he's so great she wants him for a nephew-in-law. Well, for Ayfer the only qualification is that he's not Serkan, so never mind that question.

However, maybe there's some hope? Before this episode it seemed certain they were heading in a romance direction, but the way he told her she was like a sister to him? Is there really any coming back from him saying that after he remembered kissing her? On the other hand we're barreling towards the end here and there's not really enough time to introduce anyone new for Melo (and no indication from spoilers that they have) and I'm pretty sure Ayse and the writers want to give her a romantic happy ending (although I'd be fine if they didn't and instead had her go off and do something entirely for herself like go back to school or travel or open a shop). So we'll see, because even with the sister line they left some room open because Kerem was the one who suggested he say that (it wasn't necessarily his own idea) and with Melo he seemed to be coming from a place where he assumed he had forced himself on her and she was angry because she didn't want it. Which we know is not true, so might be a misunderstanding that leads to something more. Anyway, I guess we'll just have to endure whichever way they go.

Personally, I like the Serkan-Kemal father storyline. I think it's a good way to add a bit of drama in the waning episodes, gives Serkan a bit of an identity crisis, interestingly mirrors his own situation with Kiraz, and it just makes sense with everything we know of the characters. Because were we seriously supposed to believe that someone as sniveling as Alptelkin sired Serkan? I mean Serkan is the epitome of BDE, he has an inherent charismatic and commanding presence. Sorry to the actor who played Alptekin, but he didn't really have any kind of presence, however Sinan who plays Kemal, does. They've done a great job of casting, because it just feels true. I believe Kemal and Serkan share genetics.

However, even before that storyline starts in earnest, it's interesting that Serkan was being a big baby, not wanting his mom with a man she clearly loves. I wish Eda would have pushed back at him a little more when he was going off that Aydan shouldn't pursue love at her age! Does he think he'll be out of love with Eda by the time he's in his 50s and 60s? Of course not! I'm guessing Eda, though, is just letting him blow off some steam and come to accept the relationship on his own terms. Don't get me wrong, though, after all the meddling Aydan's done with Edser, she more than deserves to have Serkan's opinion of Kemal negatively impact her!

Loved that Kiraz and Can found out first that Kemal is Serkan's father! Cat is out of the bag, Aydan, you can't make a deal with a 5 year old, lmao. It put a nice ticking clock on the whole thing and gave us some good comedic moments where Kiraz is speaking the truth and everyone thinks she's just really fond of the dude. Hee.

Also I enjoyed the Aydan and Ayfer moments. To be honest, I also used to enjoy their true friendship moments when we got them, like when Kemal first appeared and Aydan was freaking out and needed Ayfer and Seyfi around her, and when they were trying to hunt down Deniz after the fake wedding turned real. After so much animosity, it was nice that Ayfer recognized that Aydan was truly in distress and needed a friend and they were able to actually talk. Also we got some (mildly) funny comedy with the two of them and the school lady. Speaking of Ayfer, thankfully she finally realized some consequences to her actions in pushing Burak at Eda. She hurt Melo! Glad she finally opened her eyes to see what should have been obvious to her (Eda never saw him that way, and Melo obviously did) and apologized to Melo. I'd like it if she would apologize to Eda as well, (and Burak deserves an apology as well because she most definitely gave him false hope) but since Eda wasn't influenced by her we probably won't see that.

Switching to Eda and Serkan this episode gave us lots of good stuff. This was a great episode for showing us where each of them stood. Eda is terrified of getting hurt and trying to hold him at arm's length even while he clearly is inching back into her heart, and Serkan is dreaming of their future together, and taking every opportunity to tie them together. How much did I love Serkan admitting he was poking at Eda, and doig things to make her angry, just so she would talk to him? Interesting that he's doing it and love that he's being honest and admitting it to her. One of my favorite relationship dynamics between them is around "talking." In the very beginning Serkan did a lot of complaining about how much Eda talked and how she never shut up, but starting around episode 18 all he wanted was for Eda to talk to him. And this is just more of that. The thing he wants most is to talk to her.

Plus watching domestic Edser is just so much fun, I could watch their full grocery shopping trip in real time and be perfectly happy, lol. At the age of 35 it's time that Serkan learn how to do a few things for himself, I don't care how rich he is, so it's nice that we see him evolving a bit as he embraces the dad role.

The jealousy gambits, even as mild as they are, are getting pretty eye roll worthy since Eda and Serkan are living together, care so much, and obviously are still so hot for one another. It's a bit more understandable from Serkan since Eda is the one creating the barrier between them, but are we really supposed to believe that Eda is jealous of Deniz when Serkan is so obviously in love with Eda and planning their future together? Especially when he clearly can't stand Deniz and tries so hard to avoid her? I suppose it's to show us that Eda is in a jumbled state, her head is trying to keep space with Serkan, while her heart wants him badly and is scared he's going to take her rejections seriously. Even so it was quite irrational for her to get angry at Serkan for having lunch with Deniz when she ordered him to leave with her. Poor Eda is in emotional turmoil.

It was hard to tell with shaky translations, but I guess Serkan claimed to have been injured while rescuing Eda and that's how he talked his way into her bed? Impressively done, Serkan. Love it because it meant we all got to wake up to snuggly family, snuggling together. This gave us another glimpse into Eda's psyche, she wakes up first, and is clearly enjoying it and feeling at home in his arms, until the sleep clears enough and her head realizes she's not supposed to be enjoying it. But once again Kiraz knows how to handle her parents and their complicated relationship beautifully and fixes everything with a pillow fight. That is one smart cookie.

One of my favorite moments of the episode is when Eda is trying to convince Serkan to go to Aydan about the school. Eda knows that her big eyes still work on him, and they did. He still can't say no to her, another one of my favorite relationship dynamics of theirs. I'm super glad some things never change. Speaking of their visit to Aydan's, how great that they went to meet the horse without a name as a family, and then Serkan finally came up with the perfect name. Definitely a star.

Love, love, love that Serkan and Eda beat Engin and Piril when it came to the 'how well do you know your spouse' game. They may have been separated for 5 years, but they both have a genuine interest in the other, so they remember things, and they always made a much more compatible couple than Engin/Piril who have absolutely nothing in common. Of course I adored all the fake married hijinx this gave us, not to mention all the opportunities for Serkan to touch, kiss, and hold her. SO MUCH UST!

The heart-to-heart on the bench was well done and it finally gave us Eda opening up and telling him what's been holding her back. She's scared. Of course she is, the poor thing. Serkan might have thought he was doing it for her own good both times, but he ripped her heart out twice (not even counting all the heart ripping he did during amnesia) how could she not have fears? Of course she's afraid! Whenever she lets herself love him and be loved by him, it's ripped away horribly, and often in ways that feels like it's him doing the ripping. She can take into consideration the circumstances, which she has or else he wouldn't be anywhere near her, and still need time to be sure she's not just setting herself up to get emotionally demolished again.

For Serkan's part all he can do is keep being there, being honest with her, and showing he's in it for the long haul, which I think he's doing and which is why they are where they are at the end of this episode.

Engin and Piril's dance practice is probably the first Engin/Piril alone scene that I thought was genuinely funny and fully enjoyable. I can't think of another... message me if you think there is one, lol. Elsewhere, I saw some folks saying that Engin and Piril should have won the dance competition, because they actually danced, and Eda and Serkan didn't. LOL, you think? I'm pretty sure that was the point. That Eda and Serkan didn't really dance, all they did was get up there and turn their sexual tension and intense smoldering towards one another up to eleventy and won because it's that powerful.

It's sort of a metaphor for this whole series. Sen Cal Kapimi is 100% powered by their chemistry. Of course they can win any competition by just pressing their bodies against one another! They can turn a ditzy Turkish summer romcom that probably should have gone 13 eps into an international hit that's going on 50 episodes, just by looking at one another.

I'm glad that the school officials overheard their conversations and dismissed them, any organization that requires this of the parents, is going to be a lifelong pain-in-the ass, lmao. Also it was good to see Edser and EnPir make up by the end.

Now, on to that ending. I'm glad the subject of the tatoos was brought up, interesting that Eda kept hers until a few months ago. Also interesting that she moved it... can't blame Serkan for wanting to see it. Was that one great seduction line, or what?

I join with everyone who thinks it was a slightly awkward place to leave the episode. We only have 13 (probably) episodes this season, and we've only had one kiss so far. That was definitely a moment for a kiss. Part of me thinks they were going for the cliffhanger, what will Eda do? Will she kiss him or slam the door in his face? Tune in next week to find out! Except that audiences have to wait no time at all for the fragman and that makes any such cliffhanger moot. So what's the point? Have her pull him in, kiss him, and the show can end with them passionately making out and the door slamming with the camera outside the house.

Oh well, it is what it is, and we can only hope they pick up next week right where they left off. As for the fragman, obviously they are fully back together for this episode which means she lets him in to hunt for her tattoo. (please oh please give us that internet ozel because I don't think I can stand being online in this fandom if they don't. Thankfully I'm traveling next week and will be too busy to spend much time on twitter.)

As I said in another ask, I'm not surprised Serkan is barreling them straight towards marriage. When you know, you know, so why wait? Once they emotionally commit to one another, they need to just get married. No waiting for psychos to interfere, family to meddle, or tragedy to strike!

Seriously can't wait for a full episode of them together and Serkan figuring out how to propose. I'm also looking forward to the Kemal/Serkan stuff, it will be interesting to see how he reacts once the news sets in... should be a great episode!

[fanficflaneuse]

The Party

Index 

A/N: After a few days of going MIA, I’m back with a piece taken from two similar requests. I hope you like it. If you requested something, please be a little patient. I’ve had some rough days and I’m going back to my working mood :) 

Have a very nice weekend! 

Details:

Draco x sister! Reader / George Weasley x Malfoy! Reader / Harry x Malfoy! Reader (platonic)

Word count: 3460

Summary: Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy aren’t home, so reader convinces her brother, Draco, to throw the party of the century. 

“Come on, Draco,” whined (Y/N), “it’s going to be fun!”

(Y/N) had been trying to convince her younger brother to throw a party. Their parents were in France on some distant relative’s funeral and wouldn’t be back for a whole other week. She figured that doing something fun with her brother would rekindle their relationship, which had been strained for years now.

Draco was two years younger than his sister. Before Hogwarts, they adored each other. Draco looked up to her and almost idolized her. Then, she was sent off to school. The sorting hat took a long time with her and ultimately placed her in Gryffindor, much to everyone’s dismay. (Y/N) could still remember, like it was yesterday, the fear that consumed her as she sent a letter to her parents. She was expecting a howler that would fill every corner of the castle with the news of her disownment. Their silence was deafening. For a week, she had nightmares with her father burning her face from the family tapestry.

Then, on the first Sunday after her arrival, Professor McGonagall guided her to Headmaster Dumbledore’s office. For a second, there was a glimmer of hope. Maybe it was all a mistake. Perhaps she could be sorted again and her parents would be proud. As she set foot on the headmaster’s quarters, though, her face fell. As she found herself face to face with her parents, she gulped. Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore left them to talk, not without giving the first year encouraging smiles.

As (Y/N) and her parents stared at each other, she decided she’d show her courageous Gryffindor side. She had always been very rebellious. Even when she played the part of the perfect pureblood, deep down she knew it wasn’t something she wanted for the rest of her life. A lot of what her parents said also didn’t sit very well with her. And this was the decisive moment.

“Mother, Father…I’m sorry.” Regardless of how hard she tried, her voice cracked. Her vision became blurry a few seconds later.

“(Y/N), dear,” her mother said, engulfing the girl in her arms.

(Y/N) sobbed in her Narcissa’s shoulder. She thought she would never feel her mother’s embrace again, yet here she was, rubbing her back and all. The relief she felt was crushed by the fact that she still had to face her father. Narcissa wiped away her daughter’s tears and gave her a reassuring smile, like she had done so many times before. Lucius then came forward, his expression unreadable. He put his hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze.

“This was…unexpected, to say the least. But there is nothing to be sorry about,” he said. (Y/N) still couldn’t decide if this was a good or a bad thing.

“Y-you won’t disown me?” she asked nervously.

“Of course not! Where did you get that idea from?” her father said.

Both Narcissa and (Y/N) shot him an “are you serious” look. Everyone around them was way too keen on having their children sorted in Slytherin. Disownments, banishments and the likes were concepts that adhered to a pureblood’s vocabulary even before they could spell their names.

“My child, I can only imagine how scared you have been in the last few days. I am very, very sorry. If the sorting hat placed you in Gryffindor it is because you will be a great fit in that house. And that is it. Right, Lucius?” Narcissa’s voice was equanimous, but she eyed her husband sternly.

“Right,” he mumbled.

“We won’t lose a child to some tradition. We love you too much to care,” she continued.

That day, (Y/N) learned about her mother’s aunt Walburga and her cousin Sirius. Narcissa vowed to never repeat that story. Even if her father winced when she mentioned that she had befriended the Weasley twins, she knew they had her back. She left Dumbledore’s office feeling like the luckiest girl alive.

The bliss, though, only lasted a few months. When she went back home for the Christmas break, she noticed how something had changed between her and her brother. As much as her parents reassured her, she swore he treated her differently. The adventures around the manor ended, as he claimed they were too old for that nonsense. Every time they were alone, she felt guilt and shame around him, as though he was always judging her. It made her sad. And she found refuge in the letters she received from the Weasley twins, especially George, who had become her best of friends.

Things turned for the worse when Draco arrived in Hogwarts, strutting with a posse of eleven-year-old entitled purebloods like he owned the place. Of course, he was sorted into Slytherin. He never looked her way after that. (Y/N) guessed that now he was bothered by everything she did, everyone she befriended and everything she stood for. She decided not to let that get the best of her and instead shared love and friendship to her newly found Gryffindor family. George and Fred’s little brother, Ron, had come to his first year as well and she took his little gang under her wing, especially Harry who had been brought up by some horrible muggles.

As the years went by, as much as Draco tormented the golden trio, she comforted them. When he bullied them, she apologized. When he said mean things, she always had a comeback. She even told on him with their mother when he was particularly mean, warranting weeks without her famous the care packages.

This year, though, (Y/N) had decided to declare truce. When they got back for the summer, Narcissa locked herself with her daughter in the piano room. They talked for hours about everything and nothing. Narcissa begged her daughter to reconcile with her brother. She told her how afraid she was of her son’s fate now that it was very clear that the Dark Lord had come back. She knew that, if the time were to come, (Y/N) wouldn’t choose Voldemort and she wished with all her heart she could take her brother with her.

(Y/N) took this conversation to heart. She was about to start her last year in Hogwarts and she didn’t want to finish her school having lost her brother completely. She thought a party would be the best place to start. They could have fun together, an occurrence unseen for many, many years. Also, after four years of sneaking around with the golden trio and Fred and George, she realized that there’s an especial kind of complicity between people who shared a secret. She wanted that kind partnership with her brother as well.

After much convincing, Draco agreed. He was expecting a gathering with their pureblood friends and acquaintances, perhaps a very selected group of people to talk and gossip for a while. Maybe if she saw him in his element he could show his sister that he was also worth her time. Draco was definitely not expecting the avalanche of people that flooded the manor. All of a sudden, he was surrounded by people from all houses and blood statuses. The seventh years brought fire whiskey and muggle booze. The music was raging. He looked in disbelief as Oliver Wood and Marcus Flint raced their brooms in their mother’s garden. He was disgusted by two seventh year Ravenclaws getting handsy by the staircase.

As he walked around, he encountered some of his friends. Pansy was sulking because Daphne had ditched her to dance. Blaise had already joined in the fun and Theo sat on a sofa between a cranky Ravenclaw and a very shy Hufflepuff. Crabbe and Goyle were nowhere to be found. 

“Are you having fun, Dray?” as he turned around, he saw her sister. One of the twins, who he didn’t bother to identify, had his arm draped around her shoulder.

He wanted to tell her that she was in big, big trouble. He hadn’t agreed to this. And how it was annoying and disrespectful and inappropriate and…then he saw the infamous golden trio behind her. They were talking to the remaining Weasley twin and eyeing his home in awe. If he had been pissed and annoyed at her sister, he now felt like he would combust in any second.

Draco shot his sister a murderous look.

“I thought you’d have some more respect for me and our home,” he said icily before storming off.

(Y/N) was very confused. Her friends eyed her worriedly. George held her closer to him.

“(Y/N/N), are you okay?” he whispered softly in her ear.

George and (Y/N) had a one of a kind relationship. They knew they liked each other. Back in fourth year, she had told him bluntly. He admitted his feelings as well. They had never made it official for reasons unknown even to them. They had shared a couple of kisses and sometimes they’d walk around with their arms wrapped around each other. They’d flirt a lot. And yet, if anyone asked them, they were both single.

Under different circumstances, she would’ve blushed a little because of how close he was. Maybe, she would’ve even flirted. Right now, her gaze was fixed on her brother’s retreating form.

“Should we leave?” asked Hermione sheepishly.

(Y/N) looked at her wide-eyed, realizing how rude her brother had been to them.

“Of course not,” she answered coolly, “I’m sorry Draco is so rude. Enjoy the party. I’ll go talk to him.”

The group scattered around. (Y/N) pecked George on the lips before she went to find her brother. She didn’t have to search too much; she knew exactly where Draco hid whenever he was upset. She walked up the stairs, were the party was just a distant rumour, and walked towards a godforsaken wing of the manor. After passing through a series of judgmental portraits, she pushed a heavy door that lead a spacious room. The only thing inside was a huge, empty wardrobe, which (Y/N) and Draco used as their own playground.

She smiled at herself, knowing that even if they had outgrown their playground days, that place remained a safe haven for both of them. She opened that door softly and found her brother huddled in a corner of the dresser, his face hidden in his arms. (Y/N) took a seat by his side.

“It’s been a while since we last played here,” she said.

“It’s a miracle you still remember,” he sniffled.

“How could I forget, starlight? It was our favourite hiding place,” she said fondly, calling him by a nickname she hadn’t used in a while.

Draco looked at her for a minute. She noticed his tearstained cheeks. “Well, now you’re so busy with Potter and your blood traitor friends, you hardly look my way anymore,” he countered bitterly.

Something clicked in her mind instantly. “Is that what this is all about?”

“You’re replacing me with Potter. Why wouldn’t you? He’s better than I am in absolutely everything. You send him presents, you cheer for him in quidditch, you’re always looking out for him. You’re like…like we used to be.”

Draco hid his face again in embarrassment. Once she heard his sobs, (Y/N)’s heart broke.

“I honestly hadn’t realized you thought that way until now. But I’d never replace you, starlight. You’re my brother. The things we’ve been through, the things we share, the memories we have together, those things have bonded us for life. It killed me every day to think that you hated me for not being the perfect pureblood sister. You’re the person I love the most and thinking that I wasn’t good enough for you…it made me so, so sad.”

Draco lunged forward and hugged (Y/N) tightly. “(Y/N), you’re my sister. Yes, you could be less boisterous, more proper…” (Y/N) raised her eyebrow. “But I wouldn’t change you for the world. I’ve missed you so much.” (Y/N) rubbed Draco’s back, like their mother did. She remembered what she said when they first arrived for vacations.

“I’ll always be here for you, Dray. And Harry’s not better than you. You’re just two different people. I won’t lie: I really love and appreciate him and I do try my best to give him some sisterly love because Merlin knows he hasn’t had much of that.” Draco tried his best not to scoff. “But you are my real brother. I don’t prefer him over you! And I’m here to reassure you, coddle you and hide in a closet while the party of the century is happening downstairs.”

Draco chocked out a laugh and hugged his sister tighter. He didn’t feel like moving just yet. (Y/N) understood he needed the embrace and so she stayed still, combing her brother’s hair with her fingers until he calmed down. She enjoyed the moment and realized how much she had missed the role of Draco’s big sister. He was such a gentle soul and even when they were kids she knew she had to be careful.

“I think…I think we can go downstairs now,” he announced timidly.

(Y/N) chuckled and nodded, refraining from teasing him. Once they were downstairs, her eyes met George’s. He sat in a circle with a bunch of people. She identified the golden trio, as well as some of Draco’s friends. Angelina Johnson was also in the group and so was Alicia Spinnet. (Y/N) dragged her brother to the circle.

“Be nice,” she mouthed to him as she took her place by George’s side.

“We’re playing spin the bottle,” said Lee Jordan before giving the bottle a spin.

A few rounds in, everyone teased (Y/N) on how she hadn’t kissed anyone. So far, Draco had given Katie Bell a peck which left him blushing. Ron and Hermione shared a sweet kiss. Harry kissed a giggly Daphne Greengrass. Theo smooched Fred, who also brushed lips with Angelina. Pansy Parkinson stamped her lips on Vincent Crabbe’s on what must have been the most dispassionate kiss of the night.  

After George and Alicia shared a quick kiss, it was finally (Y/N)’s turn. She had to kiss Blaise Zabini, on of Draco’s friends. She wasn’t very sure about kissing a younger boy at first. She asked him three or four times if it was fine with him, until he made the first move. The kiss started slow and shy and then Blaise grabbed her hair and pulled her to him. Her breath hitched and she kissed back passionately. How old was this boy and why did he have so much experience?

When they pulled apart, her head was spinning. Draco was looking at them, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets. Some people were cheering on them, particularly on Blaise. His friends were congratulating him on being a “ladies’ man”. Her friends were shocked. She still didn’t know what to make of the situation, until she realized George had left the circle. Fred couldn’t help to shoot daggers at her.

“Excuse me,” she said standing up.

At a distance, she heard Blaise boasting and Draco threatening him. (Y/N) rolled her eyes and walked through the sea of people in search of George. ‘Why do I keep chasing after people tonight?’ she groaned when she failed to find him within five minutes.

She went out to the gardens to try and think. (Y/N) sighed in relief as she recognized the familiar mop of red hair. George was pacing around. As soon as she saw his face of disappointment, she hated herself for accepting to that stupid game with that foolish boy. She should be dancing and having fun with her crush instead of having to mend broken hearts.

They stood in front of each other. George didn’t want to meet her gaze. For years, he thought that their arrangement was the best for them. The love and attraction were there and none of the drama. They could be partners in crime without the messy bits of a relationship. So far, things had worked in their favour. But seeing her smooching that Zabini git had made him change perspectives. For one, he was jealous. He hated every second of that awful feeling. And he realized he wanted to be (Y/N)’s boyfriend. He wanted everything, including the messy bits. He wanted dates in Hogsmeade. He wanted to take her home as more than just “the twins’ friend”. Now she had kissed that Slytherin and he felt like he didn’t stand a chance.

“I know Blaise Zabini could a better match than me,” he sighed.

(Y/N) eyed him quizzically. “What are you talking about?”

“We all saw how eager he was to kiss you. He might be a bit young now, but eventually he’ll probably try to date you and marry you and be the proper pureblood family you were meant to have,” he said his fists tightening with every word.

“Don’t be silly, Weasley,” she answered, moving towards him, “you know you’re the only one I want.”

She kissed him then. It was passionate and blissful. One of his hands travelled to her hair and his fingers tangled on her ringlets. The other hand squeezed her butt. (Y/N) moaned and bit George’s lip.

“Be my girlfriend,” he said against her lips before capturing them again.

“What are you doing to my daughter?!” roared Lucius Malfoy from behind.

Like a deer in the headlights, both teenagers turned around to face the Malfoys. Narcissa and Lucius looked at her, a mixture of rage and disconcertment in their faces.

“(Y/N) Narcissa Malfoy,” her mother’s voice was stern. She might be loved and spoiled by her parents, but the look they were giving her at the moment was one that assured a punishment to kingdom come.

(Y/N) noticed her little brother standing behind their parents, a smirk on his face. She guessed he washed his hands off the matter and was waiting to see her punished for their party.

“Bloody snake,” she muttered.

“Hey, don’t call me that! You got yourself in this missy,” he huffed in response, not even concealing the pleasure this was giving her.

“I thought we had magically rekindled our relationship?”

“We did. Does it mean I’ll magically take the blame for your mess?” he said smugly.

“Your friends are also here,” George retorted. He still had his hands on (Y/N), a fact the whole family was trying to ignore until he brought the attention to himself.

“What are you…what is…why are there…drunk people…my garden!” Narcissa was so taken aback she couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. Lucius was eyeing here warily; the only other time she behaved like this he had been banished from their room.

Narcissa went back inside, were everything was eerily quiet. The teenagers who just a few minutes ago had been dancing and drinking stared at the Malfoy matriarch. The music had stopped, just as any bit of conversation. She walked to her precious mahogany table in the common room, where the students had set all of the alcohol, and took a bottle of firewhiskey that hadn’t been opened yet.

“Everybody who I did not create, get out of my house right now!” She didn’t even raise her voice, but it had such a sharp edge to it that everyone in the grounds heard and complied. A sea of Hogwarts students ran out of the door.

George made a move to leave as well, but Lucius stopped him.

“No, you stay,” he said bitterly, “if you’re man enough to touch my daughter’s arse then you’re man enough to stay and listen to what I’m about to say.”

Both (Y/N) and George blushed profusely. Draco faked gagging and Lucius was about to start a lecture when Narcissa came back. She took a swig of the firewhiskey straight from the bottle. Lucius was glaring at George; but even as intimidating as he tried to be, the three teenagers saw how afraid he was of his wife’s glare.

“You,” she said motioning to George, “out.”

“Mum…” (Y/N) tried to intervene.

“Don’t you dare, (Y/N). Don’t you dare,” her tone was almost murderous.

George kissed (Y/N)’s cheek and walked out, biting his lips to hold in his laughter.

“When I wake up tomorrow my house better be pristine or you are going to be in a lot of trouble. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, mum,” (Y/N) answered, not wanting to meet her gaze.

“You two,” Narcissa motioned her husband and son, “to your rooms. Now.”

“But mum, won’t you punish (Y/N/N)? Look what she did when you were gone!” Draco pressed on, behaving in absolute Draco fashion.

Narcissa drank from the bottle again and Draco’s eyes widened.

“Listen to me, Draco. I am going to say something to you and I’ll only say it once: stop being such a little bitch.”

As soon as she said that, (Y/N) burst out laughing.

“I love you, mum,” she said.

“Don’t push it, (Y/N).”

Tags: @cleopatera @okaydraco @naomi02hook @the-hufflefluffwriter @the--queen-of-hell @honeymarvel @blisfvll @icintliviinyiniilsiji @gloriousrebelrunaway @heistmaster69 @victorialynn7 @inkhearthes @wollymalfoy

[destiniesfic]

Folktober 05 — for @jurdannet/@jurdannetrevels. In which Jude was never taken to Faerie and grew up in blissful ignorance of the fair folk—mostly—until the night they tried to steal her twin sister away.

First | Prev

The door is the first test. It is difficult not to stare at every new thing I see. There are lamps on either side of the polished wood doors, and at first I think they’re just regular lights, but of course nothing here is that simple; the light comes from two tiny glowing faeries, trapped behind glass. I am immediately filled with questions. Did they volunteer for the job? Is this a punishment for some unknown crime? Do they eat, and if so, who feeds them? Do they live forever, miserable in their prison, or do they eventually burn themselves out?

But I am meant to be glamoured and not ask questions, so I don’t, even though I want to pound my hands against the glass until they bleed and the tiny faeries are freed. I keep my eyes straight ahead and hardly even flinch when I notice the grotesque carving on the door. It looks horrible, a twisted and terrible face, the knocker piercing its nose.

Cardan acts as if this is all totally normal, because of course to him it is, because he lives here and none of this is new to him. Without any hesitation, he reaches for the door knocker. And as he does, the carving’s eyes spring open.

To keep from screaming, I bite my lip hard enough to draw a bead of blood. My entire body goes taut, a coiled spring waiting for release. I force myself to breathe in through my nose.

“My prince,” says the carving.

Cardan smiles at the door in a way I am not even sure he smiled at his friends. “My door.”

I am relieved when the next words from the door’s awful mouth are “Welcome home” and it swings open to admit us. Cardan stalks inside, and I follow.

There is a faerie servant waiting for us, wearing some kind of livery. “Prince Cardan,” they say, with a small bow. “Your brother would like to speak with you.”

“A pity for him,” Cardan replies, handing his cloak to another servant. No one offers to take the jacket I am wearing. “I would like that less.”

“I am afraid it was not a request,” the first servant says. “He wishes to speak with you and the mortal girl you have brought back with you.”

Cardan glances back at me, a frown turning down the corners of his full mouth. “Very well, although I cannot imagine why. Come, Jude.”

I bristle at the command, but I follow after him; it’s what the glamoured girl I’m supposed to be would do. I force a little smile on my lips and trot after him. “What’s going on?” I whisper through it.

“I know not.” The frown deepens. “And I like that even less. Stay close to me and face front, no matter what you see. And under no circumstances may you antagonize Balekin as you do me. Am I understood?”

I want to tell him that if he thinks my meager resistance so far has been antagonism, he doesn’t really know anything about hardship, but there’s an urgency to his voice, maybe something like nerves or fear, that makes me think he’s being serious.

“Totally,” I say, and then I fall back a little so that I trail him.

Soon I see why he warned me to stare straight ahead. As we walk through the hallway, I see another human for the first time, a young man dressed in the same palace livery. At first I want to call out to him, to scream, to tell him I’ve been taken and he has too and we should both run away from this place, but I notice the glazed look in his eyes, and, as we approach, his cracked fingers and chapped lips. He hums to himself as he polishes an old suit of armor on display, and doesn’t seem to notice as we pass.

I shudder. Cardan may have kidnapped me, true. He and his friends might have intended to do terrible things to my sister, and he may still intend to do terrible things to me. But at least I have been spared that fate, the loss of my all my faculties, of any control.

I’m not relieved for long, because Hollow Hall still has horrors in store for me. Soon we come to another set of gleaming doors, through which I can hear the sounds of chatter and the faint thrumming of music. The doors are thrown open for us by another pair of servants, and then we are in the middle of the great hall.

There is what is clearly a party happening. Well, I assume it’s a party, what parties are in fairyland. It looks like the kind of scene HBO would get in trouble for when casting a bunch of nude extras. I mean, by human standards, it would definitely be considered an orgy, but I am beginning to think that human and faerie standards are very different.

And that’s not to say all of the Folk are embracing. Some are eating golden fruit. Some are drinking wine and mead from great goblets, like the ones Cardan brought for his picnic jaunt into my world. Others seem to be falling asleep. Two might be strangling each other to the amusement of onlookers. There is a small band on the other side of the room that includes a green-skinned pixie playing a flute and a boy with goat legs playing an honest-to-god lute. And, yes, there are faeries in varying states of undress, on couches near the perimeter of the room or cushions on the floor, and some are definitely, um, occupied. They are clearly inhuman, but their bodies are human enough that I find myself blushing, out of embarrassment or mortification I don’t know.

But Cardan said I couldn’t stare, so I do my best not to. I face front and think about the places I would rather be. Which is pretty much anywhere. I imagine myself at the Starbucks downtown, sipping pumpkin spice lattes with Taryn, or bingeing She-Ra on Netflix with Vivi, like we had the last week of the summer. Then I think about how my parents will panic when they realize I’m not there in the morning—probably just a couple of hours from now—and I nearly feel sick to my stomach.

“Jude,” Cardan hisses through his teeth. “With me.”

I don’t nod. I just follow him as we chart a path through the revelers, managing to hold it together. A naked girl with daffodil-yellow skin and pink flowers for hair laughs and calls to him, trying to coax him into joining her circle, but he ignores her. I guess being a prince makes you popular.

Our destination is on the far side of the room, unfortunately, which means I have to do a lot more repression to make it there in one piece. For example, I can’t think about how a sharp-toothed faerie seems to be using a tiny bone to pick his teeth, or how another revel guest’s lips shine red like they’re wet with blood. At least I can easily pick out where we’re going and focus on that as I keep from tripping over any outstretched limbs.

Another faerie, one who looks much like Cardan with dark hair and high cheekbones, reclines in a wooden chair carved to look much like a throne, up on a dais. He is in conversation with a very lovely woman in a blue gown, but when she sees us approaching she kisses his ring and leaves. I almost want to tell her to come back, to not leave us with the host of this debauched fete. But there’s nothing to say. I’ll have no help here.

Cardan climbs the dais seps and stops before the chair, inclining his head with deference that seems a little mocking. Without being told, I know that this is Balekin, whom Cardan said was the eldest of the princes.

Brother,” Balekin says, and even I, an outsider, can sense the danger under the familial cheer. “How was your jaunt to the mortal world?”

“Tiresome,” Cardan says, stifling a yawn as he raises his head.

“I was told you brought a companion back with you.”

“Word travels fast.”

Balekin waits for him to say something else, and frowns when he doesn’t. I, meanwhile, am thinking of how I felt like we were being watched as we rode through the forest. Maybe we were. Or maybe the goblins who’d paddled the boat were spies. Nothing here was safe.

“Well, won’t you call her hence so I may examine her?” Balekin asks at last.

“Oh, indeed,” says Cardan, who clearly isn’t happy to have been called out for this. Still, he waves for me, and I take a step forward. “This mortal girl interfered with our fun. She was unhappy that Locke wanted to play with her twin sister.”

“Twins?” Balekin sounds intrigued. He sits forward. I’m learning that twins are probably rare among faeries if Taryn and I are so consistently interesting. “Why not keep them both?”

Cardan shrugs. “It was better sport to promise the freedom of one sister and then take the other. This one was so angry when she found her twin glamoured, and now she suffers that fate.”

I’m angry still, I want to shout. I’m angry now! I want to stomp my foot. I want to haul off and punch him. But I stay where I am, trying to keep the placid smile fixed on my face. I’d thought Cardan and his friends terrifying and wrong, but now that I am face-to-face with an adult faerie, I realize that Cardan can’t be much older than me—or whatever the faerie equivalent is. Maybe he’s ninety and just looks nineteen. But Balekin is clearly grown, less lanky than Cardan, more dangerous. He is looking at me in a way I don’t like.

“Come closer, child,” he says to me, and he almost sounds kind. I try not to hesitate as I approach his chair. When I am near enough, he reaches out and takes my face in his hand. There are thorns poking out of his skin, sharp enough to prick me. I stay very, very still and try to breathe normally.

“She’s not unpretty, is she?” he asks Cardan.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cardan shift uneasily. “If mortals are your flavor.”

Balekin frowns, turning my face from one side to the other. “She has a familiar look. What is your name, girl?”

“Jude,” I say obediently.

“Your surname.”

“Smith,” I lie. It’s the first thing that comes to mind. Telling a faerie prince my actual full name seems like a really bad idea.

Balekin’s eyes narrow, but he releases me. My jaw tingles. He swirls the wine in his goblet the way sophisticated people do in movies, and then he leans back in his chair. “So, brother. Now you have a mortal girl. What will you do with her?”

“I have not yet decided,” Cardan replies, sounding thoughtful. “I would rather not put her to work in the kitchens or the hall. Mortals are so fragile, with such clumsy fingers. It amuses me to think of her carrying my schoolbooks, serving my wine, and sleeping at the foot of my bed like a faithful hound.”

“Trite amusements,” says Balekin, but I notice that he doesn’t seem displeased with his younger brother. “If you misplace this one it is of no consequence to me. Do as you will.”

Cardan inclines his head in a mock bow, then says again, “Come, Jude.”

Like the faithful hound, I follow at his heels. Unlike the faithful hound, I chafe doing so. But I can’t see another way out just now, so I will play this game until the end. Whatever that is.

---

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[flying-elliska]

Skam France Season 6 Review

It’s that time, I guess. My feelings are, like many, mixed. I think I enjoyed the season more than most people here, but the ending was a massive let down. Overall it boils down to this : Skam France is great at moments and very bad at structure. A lot of my issues with the season is what is not in it. I saw so much potential that never quite materialized, and it left me frustrated. At the same time, Lola is a really cool character, her arc is really interesting, her relationship with her sister is one of the best things they’ve ever done, and the actors killed it. Loved La Mif, discovering other sides of Eliott, the urbex backgrounds, and Maya. A lot of fascinating character moments. This is definitely my second favorite season after s3 - at times I even thought it would equal it. Sadly, though, Skam France will remain a bit of a one hit wonder for me. Because they are so good at bringing up problems in a nuanced layering way - be it addiction, grief, eating disorders, internalized ableism, racist microagressions - but when it comes to resolving what they brought up, they default towards a ‘let’s all be nice to each other, hug or kiss, love saves the day yay !’ story. Which is, when you claim to deal with real world issues, simplistic, immature, and at times quite offensive. It works for s3, which is at its core a tale of self-discovery, self-acceptance and romance. But niceness doesn’t solve racism, and family problems aren’t solved with a hug, and addiction recovery doesn’t hinge on having someone to kiss, and the series came dangerously close to implying that at times. 

All in all, this is a show that often manages to be both brilliant and terrible at the same time. At least it’s not dull. 

Positives/Negatives/Meh breakdown :

Positives :

- Sisterly love : My favorite thing without a doubt is the relationship between Lola and Daphné. Flavie and Lula killed it. Almost all the clips that made me cry were the ones with the both of them in it. At the beginning their rivalry is so relatable to me : the responsible sibling who takes on too much burdens and is too controlling and parentified vs. the problem sibling who acts out to express the issues the rest of the family are repressing - i have been in both of those spots. you can see how they slowly realize that the gap between them didn’t need to be there, that it wasn’t their fault, that it was the result of their parent’s bullshit and even shittier circumstances. seeing them make little gestures to recognize each other’s pain, to nurture each other, to give each other support, but also to tell each other some unpleasant truths, was so incredibly powerful. Relationships between sisters can be just so...complex, and loving, and petty, and jealous, and supportive, and feral, and annoying, and understanding, and ugh, they made me feel all of that and more. I have a sister, and I have a relationship like that with her, and this season gave me some very important perspectives. Really, relationships between women aren’t explored enough, and this season really did this one thing excellently and if only for that, it deserves to be watched. That moment where Lola talks to Daphné about her self destructive tendencies...so important. I am so happy that Daphné was the one finding Lola in her tower of solitude, and the moment where she says ‘you pay too much attention to what other people think, Lola’ was the emotional turning point of the season for me, because it was Daphné recognizing Lola really cared behind her mask of coldness, but also that she was hurt by that and that she needed to love herself regardless of the love her parents didn’t give her ; and also that she heard Lola saying it to her and that it inspired her too, so there is this amazing reciprocity. It was so powerful, I’m still reeling from it. And it was a beautiful full circle from the beginning of the season. 

- Family of outsiders : the urbex gang was such a wonderful new group this season. It was bound to be tricky getting us to like this new generation, and I think they did a pretty good job. Even tho I wish we got to know them a bit more, they were all intriguing and interesting on their own, and the vibes of Lamif as a whole were just so fun and lovely. Loved the neuroatypical vibes I got from Sekou and Jo. Love that they introduced a trans guy character. Loved Maya as group mom. And seeing them warm up to Lola was really sweet. The social media of them hanging out was more or less the only good social media we got this season lmao. The urbex thing was a great symbol for Lola finding a home with the outcasts, a bit on the fringe of society, and the start of acceptance, of bringing her in from the cold. Maya and Lola’s relationship fit in that really nicely, especially the bits about them talking about their shared experiences of grief, and my favorite scenes with them is showing Lola that her scars can be beautiful and that her rough experiences are part of who she is. The way she didn’t take Lola’s bullshit was great, and even tho I think their relationship was rushed, overall they really fit well together. Love Maya’s character as a concept in general, this funky purple haired lesbian environmentalist with amazing sense of style, and I really hope we see her again in upcoming seasons. And finally, I also really liked Eliott and Lola’s friendship (except for the ending) - the fact that they understand this darkness that they share, but that Eliott has succeded in climbing over it, and so he can give Lola support, understanding, guidance. I loved that we got to hear a bit more of his perspective on mental illness, the good and the bad times, that we saw his passion for movies become more real. I loved the fact that they bonded over creative things and photography, too, and that she found a safe space in the video store. And even tho it wasn’t resolved properly, the scene where he comes to get her and punches Aymeric really made me cry. Also, BASILE. Best bro in law ever. Their scenes together were so homey and warm and sweet. They will have such a good relationship in time. Overall, I really like how central friendship was in this season, shown as so powerful and important. They could have done more with it but I love a lot of what we got. I am just a sucker for found family, man.

- Lola herself : I know she was a controversial character right from the start. She’s been called manipulative, selfish, out of control, toxic. And honestly at times...maybe she was a bit. I still love her. She is just so interesting to me. The lack of compassion towards her in the fandom was seriously depressing at times, and often felt like a symptom of something I’ve seen in a lot of different fandoms, ie the capacity to only tolerate moral ambiguity when it’s attached to attractive white male characters - and to only tolerate mental illness symptoms when they can be romanticized. In the end, she’s a struggling teen from a deeply dysfunctional family who’s had a very rough life, of course she’s not going to be well adjusted. All in all, I think she’s so brave, and she is a fighter. I adored her feral energies in the trailer. I also really liked her blunt honesty at times, even if it was sometimes hurtful and excessive. I think because I have the opposite tendency to be afraid to speak my mind, I really dig a character who isn’t afraid to speak the ugly truth. Even though, again, ‘the truth’ isn’t always cut and clear, and what Lola is often doing instead is listening to ‘depression voice’ who tells her to believe the worst in people. I find that fascinating, because in my experience, yes, depression comes with this terrible lucidity that makes you see through a lot of bullshit but at the same time, is distorting your perspective because of fear and shame, and kicking that, and disentangling your perception from that fatalism, is very complicated. I loved how genuine she was, how mature too sometimes through the pain, more mature than she should have been. It was rough watching her relapse, but I think the portrayal of addiction was pretty very well done overall, not romanticized and explained in a very coherent way. I wish the show had given her a bit more of a clearer view of her inner thoughts towards the end and let her apologize a bit more. And a clearer realisation that her parent’s lack of well expressed love didn’t doom her. But...yeah Following her really made me question my own - more hidden - self destructive impulses, linked to family shit, that pushes me to sabotage and isolate myself. Like Eliott said to her - it’s really a lifelong struggle. I think overall her arc was pretty satisfying, learning to step away from the edge, letting people in, seeing that she isn’t alone, accepting she deserves better and that her failures don’t doom her. That it is about getting up and trying again. Love her using her mother’s camera and wanting to get a phoenix tattoo, a perfect symbol for her. Also Flavie was amazing, she’s got a bright future ahead.

Negatives :

- No follow up to the assault storyline : The thing that I am, without any single doubt, most mad about, is the fact they didn’t bring up the sexual assault again. Along with Charles’ rape apologism, this creates a very dubious pattern of trivializing the issue ‘as long as it’s not real rape’. The fact that the morning after immediately turns to Elu drama is what sort of started my disconnect from the season, and the fact that they don’t bring it up afterwards even once made me angry. I think Lola, before going back to the hospital, should have told someone about the abuse she endured there, and should have told someone about Aymeric, even if only to acknowledge she wants to be done with that part of her life. Aymeric is like...Lola’s biggest villain, in a sense, he is a horrible predator but he also somehow represents her worst impulses, that part of herself that tells her she doesn’t deserve better, and I think that as a character, he was interesting, and he should have been adressed/exorcised better. If Lola was a real person, of course, she would probably have to deal with this in therapy, down the line, later, but as a story, never adressing this again left it unfinished. And this is really the kind of event you NEED catharsis and resolution for. Otherwise, it’s irresponsible.

- A generally overstuffed and disjointed structure : My biggest problems with this season are about what isn’t and what isn’t it. I liked most of the clips, I don’t have an issue with them going dark, strangely enough, but the way they were put together was just...messy. Like many people have said, too much stuff not properly adressed. Palm of most annoyingly useless subplot, the whole Tiff thing. Yes, it was cool comparing her clique to Lamifex and Lola realizing she wants nothing to do with those shallow fake bitches. Sekou hacking her account to replace it with pigeons, amazing. After that though, it should have been DONE, and in general, it should have taken a lot less time and attention. Comparing Tiff’s social media addiction to Lola’s issues felt like some trivializing bullshit. The whole thing was just so annoying. It would have been good if it had led to some discussion of social inequality but like...not this shit. Char, equally useless (although, cool actress, cool style). Another MASSIVE problem is the lack of follow through on big clips. A great thing about SKAM, usually, is that it shows you the aftermath of big moments - characters lying in bed, cuddling, talk to their friends, crying in the shower, etc. It allows the viewer to breathe and really get into the character’s perspective, to be comforted and process drama, and for the emotions to resonate better, to have space to develop richly. Here...we had Lola brush off her assault, we saw nothing after Daphné got her back from the tower thinking she could have killed herself, we learned that they had money problems and the father didn’t go to work and then that was never adressed again and the light was turned back on by magic (????), we saw Eliott go on a major bender and didn’t really see how he got better, etc. Big lack of introspective clips in the latter part of the season took me out of Lola’s head. It was all stressful and breathless, all intensity and no pause like one grating high pitch note instead of music, it felt oppressive, with poor contrast, and very badly paced. It made everything blur together and feel less relevant. The problem with that is it really takes you out of the story ; it’s hard to care when you know whatever is happening might not have a resolution, and it doesn’t put you in the shoes of the character. This was compounded by how mediocre the social media was, when it is usually used to bridge in the gaps. And then to finish : the structure was so uneven, especially in the second part of the season. Towards the middle we had some very short episodes with very underwhelming endings, and Vendredis that felt like non events, and there wasn’t a lot happening - and then, bam, ep 9, drama overload, almost like misery p*rn, and then a super rushed resolution in ep 10. Like they cared more about twists and giving the opposite of what was expected instead of solid coherent narrative and rhythm. The romantic back and forth felt repetitive as hell too. All in all, it made for a very unsatisfying live watching experience, pretty sure anyone who didn’t watch live would like it a lot more. 

- The last two episodes : Really, I could have overlooked all the problems with the season if they had given us a good ending, but...they really really didn’t. And contrasted with last season, where my problems were focused on the middle, for me the ending is really the worst part of this season. I didn’t dislike the controversial club clips, I liked having the insight into Eliott’s insecurities, but they should never have brought those up if they weren’t going to let him adress them properly. Having everything go to shit in Lola’s life at once felt like overkill - they really should have solved those problems earlier, and then dealt with a few ones properly, showed us Lola freaking out on her own, and taken out the bullshit at the high school. Thierry slapping her was also too much, he could just have said these clumsy things. She could have distanced herself from Maya instead of pushing her away again. Also, they really should have had this happen in episode 8 again, and given us a proper resolution. While the tower sequence was incredibly powerful, I pretty much liked nothing after that. It was so annoying that Eliott brushed off Lola’s apology because while he wasn’t wrong that he decided to get drunk himself, she still needed to apologize and actually state that she wanted to get better so she didn’t hurt her friends, so as a resolution it was very mediocre. Thierry recognizing they should have given Lola the choice to go the hospital was a step but really not enough. And the moments with Maya were cute sure but mostly cheesy and unearned. Same for the ending clip. Mostly it’s such an unsatisfying farewell to the old generation, and it really feels like they wanted us to force to move on - didn’t want to properly recognize the end of an era, gave us almost nothing about their BAC or their future plans, etc etc. Also, letting Charles talk and having Arthur and Alexia kiss again ? SO BAD. UGH. I will be forever disappointed they didn’t give us a Multi POV or at least sth better on social media. And not having Eliott’s POV or at least a real Elu conversation (pretty much all season...) so frustrating I will never not be bitter about that. So yeah. The season started so powerfully but went out with a whimper instead of a bang. That whole ‘romantic love solves everything!!!’ shtick...very undercooked tbh. 

Meh : 

- Mayla’s development : I wanted to stan them SO BAD. Like, wlw in skam (that doesn’t turn into a panphobic mess?) YES, all the way yes. Maya and Lola had great chemistry, great dynamic. I loved their first few clips, the kind of confrontational flirting, the boldness, it was like...damn girls ! we love a non useless lesbian ! But...somewhere along the way, their relationship really suffered from the wacky plot structure. They should have shown us more bonding before we got to the angsting (esp during first urbex night). Also, their first kiss was sweet but I hated the ‘you’re my addiction’ line and that kind of put a damper on it. I liked the scenes where they open up about difficult things, the love Maya showed to Lola’s scars, the dandelion symbolism was lovely, but it wasn’t balanced enough with other stuff, and I felt Maya was way too stoic at times. And I really, really didn’t like the ending, honestly. They kept a good balance all season showing Lola wasn’t relying entirely on romantic love, that her family and friends were also important - but saying ‘i’m okay as long as you’re here’ at the end...honestly that sounds unhealthy and codependent as fuck. I really wish they’d done a more subtle, taking it slow ending for them.

- The financial issues : Again a storyline with much potential that wasn’t dealt with properly. It’s really good that we got a main that wasn’t from an economically priviledged background. Especially it felt very relevant to Daphné’s storyline, with the shame she felt at her friends seeing her place, the pressure to make it work, tying into her ED, etc etc. But cutting off the power, the father not working going nowhere...it’s like the plotline meandered and then vanished into thin air. Instead of that, they could have given us a scene of Daphné freaking out over the bills like in OG w Vilde, keeping the focus on her for that plot because she’s the most affected ; and then in the end of the season the father taking them over from her and telling her he’s found another job and that those things shouldn’t be her responsibility. That would have been relevant, instead of just...a loose end.

- Family issues : The Lecomte family dynamic seemed fascinating to me at the start. The mom being this shadowy complicated figure. The inability of the father to deal with anything. Daphné being parentified, Lola becoming the symptom child. They could have done a lot with this, but in the end, it felt like it was brushed aside too easily by saying the mom sent letters so she wasn’t too bad and Thierry is making breakfast so he’s trying. Not enough. I wanted them to let Lola acknowledge she deserved better and that their parent’s crap wasn’t on her. That her mom should have looked for help and the other two shouldn’t have pretended everything was okay. In general, there is way too much pressure to overlook toxic parent behavior and I wish they’d been clearer about this. 

- Mental health portrayal : Some parts of it were really good. Showing Daphné’s ED, letting Eliott talk about his episodes and relapses, showing some of the dark sides of depression and addiction. They just needed to show more of the recovery, because that is often the representation that they lacked the most. I don’t blame them for showing the bad sides of the mental healhcare system (which is terribly outdated and dysfunctional in France, I’m speaking from experience) but they should have shown the good too. Like do they find recovery boring or something ? Because as a person w MI, that’s actually what I’m dying to see, and they’ve been a real letdown in that department. I also think they should have acknowledged that the Lecomte family has mental issues as a whole, that the mother should have gotten help, and the father probably needs it too (still think they should have gone to therapy as a group lol).

- Elu and Eliott’s development : Honestly, not a big fan of how they wrote Lucas in s5&s6, in a lot of clips he was the angry guy with a temper, I miss s4 Lucas who was so compassionate and showed real growth and emotional intelligence. Here it just felt like they were fitting his character to plot needs, and it’s so sad for a character who had such an amazing story development. Now, I loved the glimpses of domestic Elu we got, how Axel and Maxence really showed the intimacy that had grown between them, they really felt married with all the nonverbal conversations and touches, that was sweet. But it’s so annoying that they hinted at Lucas’s insecurities and Eliott’s lack of communications and just brushed it away with ‘oh they love each other they will be okay’ sure bitch but then show us how ? that’s the interesting stuff ? it really feels sometimes like the writer(s) didn’t like how strongly the fans focused on the romance when they wanted to be talking about MATURE dark stuff not that frilly fluffy romance shit *eyeroll* male writers who think they’re above that stuff is so annoying as is the conflating of dark and mature - anyway. Again I liked seeing Eliott in his element this season, he is really thriving, with his movie and the video store, and that made me very happy. I don’t think it’s unrealistic he didn’t make a lot of friends in uni - French university can be so isolating, there isn’t a campus or a vibrant social life like in the US, it’s a very common experience to feel lost and isolated for newbies and it was also my case - but ? Sofiane ? Idriss ??? They could have found a better excuse to implicate Lamifex in the movie making tbh, like Jo egging him on about her passion for directing or whatever, and Sofiane could have been there chilling with them it would have been so cool. I just wish Eliott would have had more of an arc like Daphné did. It wouldn’t have taken much, and since he is my favorite character, I will never not be disappointed at all the wasted potential. 

Yeah so in the end i think this was a very good story they didn’t entirely give themselves the right storytelling tools to tell. Like there is something in the way they prioritize certain moments over others that...I just find very frustrating and weird. So...flawed, but still very interesting overall.

[thedaughterofkings]

Tag Game: Dig a Little Deeper

Thank you for the tag, @theproblemwithstardust! These are always fun to think through!

1. do you prefer writing with a black pen or a blue pen? Blue

2. would you prefer to live in the country or in the city? Depends on the city - I was very happy in Edinburgh, but wouldn’t be able to live in New York, I think, at least not for long. In general, the happy middle is ideal - big enough to get most of the advantages of a city (big shops with long opening hours, good travel connections, some cultural options), but small enough and close enough to the country side to have a garden and a short way into a forest

3. if you could learn a new skill, what would it be? I think I’d like to be better at handy man type things, and just feel more confident to try them out? Other than that there are so many instruments I’d love to learn!

4. do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? I very, very rarely drink coffee, and if I do I’ll often add some sugar. But I drink tea every day and take no sugar there.

5. what was your favorite book as a child? An old book of my grandma’s, from when she was a child, which I used to read every single time we visited! It was about four sisters and their coming of age and I just loved it! I really need to reread it. Other than that our fairy tale books (good old German bloody versions, no disney sugar in this household!), and Max Kruse’s Urmel series!

6. do you prefer baths or showers? Showers for sure! I pretty much only take a bath in winter and then I’ll usually take a quick shower afterwards to wash my hair, because washing my hair in the bath is a pain that will lead to flooding.

7. if you could be a mythical creature, which one would you be? A DRAGON!!!!! If that’s for some reason not an option, then a selkie!

8. paper or electronic books? Paper books and electronic fics - though I’ve seen some book binding tutorials making the rounds and I’m very tempted now to print out my favourites and bind them prettily!

9. what is your favorite item of clothing? Gosh, I don’t even know? Probably a dress, but I wouldn’t be able to choose between them...

10. do you like your name? would you like to change it? I like it and wouldn’t want to change it! It’s relatively rare here (though not world wide, so not some strange invention from my parents), but not to the point of being incomprehensible (usually - there have been some interesting spellings, especially from English speaking people) and I think it fits me!

11. who is a mentor to you? My mum? But she’s my mum, so does she really count as a mentor? Singing wise perhaps my conductor, but she’s also a pain, so there’s that? I can’t really think of someone I’d truly call my mentor!

12. would you like to be famous? if so, what for? To do Dancing with the Stars! (Or Strictly, or Let’s dance, wherever they’ll take me!) No seriously, I’d love to do one of the dance shows, and that’s the only reason I’d like to be famous. I’d like to be reasonably rich of course, to be financially secure enough to be able to easily help family and friends and causes close to my heart (and buy and uphold a Scottish castle), but you don’t necessarily need to be famous for that. But just being famous for famous-sake? To be recognised wherever you go? No thanks. That sounds absolutely horrible.

13. are you a restless sleeper? That’s a pretty resounding yes unfortunately.

14. Do you consider yourself to be a romantic person? Oh god, I don’t even know. Do I enjoy romance? In fic yes, in books and films often not, in realy life excessive PDA creeps me out and honestly, my threshold for that is super low, so excessive probably means more like ‘any PDA’. As for whether I’m personally romantic? I’ve never been a romantic relationship and I’m not sure I even want to be!

15. which element best represents you? Earth perhaps? I’m not really sure what the elements even represent, though, so who knows! Probably not fire, though :p

16. who do you want to be closer to? I’m good actually, I think!

17. do you miss someone at the moment? Not in a particular ‘I miss you right now and won’t miss you in an hour’ way. I always miss my dad and grandpa, but that’s a different kind of missing, I think.

18. tell us about an early childhood memory. I remember the blinds and doors of the holiday home we stayed in when I was ... four? five? And the path to the beach!

19. what is the strangest thing you have eaten? I’m not the most adventurous eater admittedly, but as far as ‘I’ll never eat it again’, I took a bite out of a pickled egg once and it was properly disgusting!

20. what are you most thankful for? My family and my living circumstances (is that a word? term? It sounds weird)

21. do you like spicy food? Not reallyyyyyy - some spice is okay, and some spiciness is worse than others, but in general I’m a total wuss.

22. have you ever met someone famous? I said good morning to David Tennant, but I’m not sure I’d call that “having met him”.

23. do you keep a diary or journal? Nope! I’ve started one a couple of times, but never made it beyond three days or so!

24. do you prefer to use pen or pencil? Generally a pen, but a pencil is fine, too!

25. what is your star sign? Leo

26. do you like your cereal crunchy or soggy? Crunchy! (though I haven’t had actual cereal in ages)

27. what would you want your legacy to be? Positive, if I’m to have a legacy at all

28. do you like reading? What was the last book you read? Very much so! I last read Cornelia Funke’s Reckless series.

29. how do you show someone you love them? I try to tell them, and I try to make sure they know I’m here to listen or help or talk or whatever they need. I’m not sure I always succeed, though...

30. do you like ice in your drinks? No.

31. what are you afraid of? Not being good enough.

32. what is your favorite scent? My roses - individuals with a superb scent are The Lady of Shalott, Rose de Resht and Sweet Juliet, but there’s something really special about that first breath of rose air when Frühlingsduft (scent of spring), the first rose of the year blooms!

33. do you address older people by their name or surname? Surname! Unless they offer their first name and the ‘Du’, and even then I’ll probably try to avoid using either^^°

34. if money was not a factor, how would you live your life? I’d buy a Scottish castle and plant so many roses!

35. do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean? Definitely pools, I’m always just a little afraid something is going to happen in natural water^^°

36. what would you do if you found $50 in the ground? I’d collect them (Unless I just saw who lost them) but try to put it towards something charitable (not 50, but one day I found two pounds on the ground, gave them to the homeless person with the kitty on Princes Street, found another pound, gave that to the one with the pupper and found another three, I think! That was a really nice day)

37. have you ever seen a shooting star? did you make a wish? Yes and yes!

38. what is one thing you would want to teach your children? To be kind? To themselves and others

39. if you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? A watercolour tattoo probably, perhaps of a dragon or fox, or a flower, and somewhere not always on display

40. what can you hear now? If I opened the window I’d probably hear at least some birds (some woke me up this morning with unholy yowling)

41. where do you feel the safest? At home.

42. what is one thing you want to overcome/conquer? My perfectionism that usually appears through some really strong procrastination. I also wish I was better at talking to people, especially people I don’t know or who are intimidating (which is everyone I don’t know and quite of those I know a little). I’ve mostly come to terms with my shyness, but that doesn’t make everything easy suddenly, unfortunately.

43. if you could travel back to any era, what would it be? There’s way too many! But for just one I’d love to see a Shakespeare play in the Globe when it was performed originally, ideally Twelfth Night or Hamlet! And I’d like to meet Queen Elizabeth I!

44. what is your most used emoji? 😘 probably or 😊

45. describe yourself using one word. overwhelmed (I am also hungry and tired right now, and that plays a big part in that - ask me again in an hour or so when I’ve eaten and the world will look a little more rose-y again^^°)

46. what do you regret the most? I can’t think of anything I truly regret - there are things I wish I’d done differently, but what’s done is done and I have to do the best with what I have now

47. last movie you saw? The Martian!

48. last tv show you watched? Die purpurnen Flüsse/Les rivières pourpres (the purple rivers), a French (German co production?) series based on the novel the Jean Reno film was based on!

49. invent a word and its meaning. This is hard because in German you can just compound away, so for every thing I think of, I’m like ‘but you could just put these three words together for the same effect!!!’ But this is English, so I’ll go with “pflundering” - the sound a bird makes when it takes a very enthusiastic bath!

This took quite a bit, and my brain is no longer able to come up with people to tag, so I’m tagging you, person who actually read through this! Do it (be honest, you already thought up most of your answers while reading it^^) and tag me, I’m curious!

[sundropscribbles]

Aviators | Eleven x Reader | 5.3k

A little request for @kulturschwul !! 

This took me a lot longer than it should’ve, really. But it’s finally, finally here! I hope you love it, and I hope the little bit of extra length makes up for the lateness of it! You’re lovely, thank you. ♡ 

It doesn’t take you long to realize that something is terribly wrong. Traveling with The Doctor comes with a sixth sense of sorts when it comes to trouble, of course, but even if you hadn’t spent months and months running at your brilliant, eccentric friend’s side, you’d have known that something wasn’t right.  Because all sixth senses and acclimation to danger aside, you also had a peculiar intuition when it came to your younger sister. 

Also, you had a code word. 

“Snickers.” 

It was a text message — just one word.  It wouldn’t have raised any alarm to an outsider, but the moment you catch a glimpse of that word, glaring up at you from the screen of your mobile, your heart climbs up into your throat and your palms begin to sweat.  You sit straight up in your seat beside the TARDIS console, and the book you had been reading falls to the side, forgotten as you pick up your phone to respond to your sister. 

“What kind?” you type, and hit send. Her response is almost immediate, and you don’t take your eyes off of the screen as that little gray text bubble appears.  The ellipses sits there, blinking for what seems like an unbearably long time before the next message appears, and you spend the entire time trying not to jump to conclusions.

“They’re angels. No, statues. Moving statues of angels.” Is your sister’s explanation, and as quickly as your heart had lodged itself in your throat, it plummets back downward and hits your stomach with a nasty vengeance.  The Angels.  

Although you had never had an encounter with them yourself, The Doctor had told you about the Angels some time ago. It had taken some prodding on your part, because if The Doctor was good at anything, he was good at keeping anything and everything that had hurt him in the past under an industrial-sized lock and key.  Through trial and error, though, you had coaxed him into opening up about the Angels, about New York, and about the friends who had been ripped away from him there.  

All of it had sounded truly horrible, right down to the last detail, and to think that your sister — the sister you had spent your childhood beside, laughing and smiling and trusting with every secret fit for siblings to share — might have been in close proximity to those monsters?  It was enough to bring your train of thought screeching to a halt. 

“Doctor!” you shout. You manage a text instructing your sister not to blink, not to look away from the Angels under any circumstance before you drop your phone and shoot up out of your seat.  The last time you had seen the Doctor he had been fiddling with the gadget the two of you had come across on your latest trip, grinning and muttering excitedly to himself about “accretion disks”, and “alpha particles” and other things you were sure you would probably never understand. 

As luck would have it, he’s nearby, and he comes sprinting up the stairs and into the console room the moment he hears you call for him. 

“Y/N!” he calls back to you. You can hear the smile in his voice, and under any other circumstance, you would probably have been smiling, too. Not now, though — especially not now. “Did you decide you wanted help me study the device after all? Because I could really use some help documenting the redshift of this quirky little thing—“ 

“Angels,” you cut him off promptly, just as he’s made it to the top of the stairs. He freezes on the spot, and you make every effort to keep the fear out of your eyes as you explain yourself, but the ghost of a tremble in your voice certainly can’t be helped. “There’s — there’s 

Angels, Weeping Angels. Back home, my sister, she’s—she’s—“

You try, you do, but your tone gets more and more frantic the harder you try to string the words together properly, and the moment you begin to lose it The Doctor is at your side.  There’s a noticeable darkness in his eyes but he’s gentle, still, as he takes your hands in his and gives them a careful squeeze. 

“Y/N, slow down,” he instructs you, and you do as you’re told, quieting down and swallowing around the lump in your throat as you hold onto his hands. “Good, now, one thing at a time. Where exactly are the angels? Have they got S/N trapped?” 

You breathe a shaky sigh, breaking eye contact with The Doctor and shaking your head.  “I — I don’t know,” you say, feeling a touch silly for not gathering all of the details before spiraling into a panic. “She said she’s seen them move, and I told her not to let them out of her sight, but I don’t know where she is. Not yet.” 

“Right, well. That’s the first step, then, isn’t it?” he suggests, and you nod your head. You can’t help but feel a little surprised at how calmly he’s behaving in the face of all of this. He’s had encounters with The Weeping Angels before — encounters that had left him traumatized to some degree, at that — and you had definitely been expecting a response a bit more… fiery. Oncoming Storm, and all that. 

But then, you suppose, you can’t exactly remember a time when The Doctor had been anything but soft with you. 

“Go and get your mobile, tell S/N that you need to know where she is. Exact date, exact time — to the second. Not a minute earlier, not a minute later,” he says, and lets go of your hands in favor of gripping your shoulders and turning you back toward the console.  He gives you a gentle shove toward the console seat and your abandoned mobile before taking his usual spot at the TARDIS controls. 

It doesn’t take you but a second to snatch your mobile back up, and you do exactly as The Doctor says, momentarily ignoring your sister’s questions regarding the ominous statues. You’re not entirely sure you would know how to answer the questions, anyways.  

“C’mon, S/N, answer me,” you murmur, gritting your teeth. You’re well aware that it’s not been thirty second since you sent the message, but frankly, your mind is in shambles; you absolutely cannot be held responsible for a touch of impatience. You breathe a sigh of relief when your sister’s response comes not more than a few seconds later (although, you’re not sure whether it’s a good or bad thing that she’s responding so promptly). 

“Atlas Park. 30 March 2019, 3:44PM.” 

“Alright, I’ve got it,” you call out to The Doctor. You dash to his side, reading out the time, date, and location that you’ve been given. He flashes you a smile, just like he always does, and claps his hands together his he begins pushing this button and that, twisting a knob and flipping a switch with a graceful twirl in his spot. 

“Brilliant! I’ll have us there before you can blink,” he promises. “Actually — no. Bad phrasing. Wrong situation for blinking. Don’t blink, never blink.”

You grip one of his arms as the TARDIS begins to whir and then takes flight, jerking this way and that as she so often does. You can’t help but smile at his witty rambling, and more so when you meet his eyes and find him smiling back at you, but there’s a tangle of nerves in your gut even so. 

The memory of your last conversation with The Doctor about these Angels is vivid enough, still, that it turns your stomach. You remember the pain in his otherwise exuberantly lively voice, and the unmistakable dread in his old eyes all too well. “If I had to pick any one creature to never, ever see again”, he’d said. 

You have to wonder if he’s as afraid now. 

✦

With a groan and a thump, the TARDIS lands in Atlas park. 

On instinct alone you start toward the door, full of adrenaline and determination to save your baby sister, but before you get very far at all The Doctor catches you by the hand and effectively stops you in your tracks. Everything in you tells you to tug your hand from his grip, to keep going because damn it, S/N needs you, but he doesn’t give you the opportunity. 

“Y/N, I need you to listen to me very carefully,” he says. His voice is low, serious in the way that drags a chill up your spine. The protest that had been on the tip of your tongue dies there the moment you turn to meet his gaze, which is as intense as you’ve ever seen it. “You’ve been traveling with me a while now, and I know you’ve seen your fair share of mischief and monsters, but I’m warning you now — these creatures are ruthless.  They can’t be killed. They’re near impossible to escape. Your best and only hope is outsmarting them where you can, and then getting as far away from them as possible,” 

“That said:  I need you to stay close until we have a plan. No sudden movements, and keep your distance wherever and however you can,” he concludes, and lets your hand go in favor of cradling your face in both of his hands. “I will not lose you.” 

A surge of emotion hits you like a tidal wave as The Doctor finishes speaking, because it’s there again — that fear. It’s masked by determination, sure, but it’s still clear as day on his face, and it takes you a moment to process it all: the blatant way he warns you about the Angels. The rare moment of vulnerability. And most of all, the unwillingness to lose you. It’s overwhelming, all of it, but you manage a nod, eventually, because you know that he’s expecting a response from you. It’s not a verbal promise, not by any means, but evidently it’s good enough, because The Doctor smiles. He plants a kiss on your forehead before stepping away, straightening his bowtie, and taking a step toward the TARDIS doors himself. 

“Right, then,” he says, and gestures for you to follow — and you do. “Let’s see what we’re up against, shall we?” 

The park, as you step out onto the grass, is eerily quiet.  It’s never been a particularly busy spot in the first place, as an older park with really-not-all-that-much to it, but it is a Saturday afternoon. At the very least, there should be an unruly group of teenagers roaming about, or a little old woman walking her dog, but there isn’t, and it makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up tall.  

The silence is unnatural, and the air is still in a way that it’s never been in your hometown. It makes you want to reach for The Doctor’s hand, to seek some comfort in the midst of this terrifying situation, but you don’t; he’s busied himself surveying the area with his sonic, so you concentrate on the familiar buzz of the device to distract yourself instead. 

“Blimey, they’ve definitely been here,” he mutters, pocketing his screwdriver as he takes a few steps out into the open. “Could’ve figured that out without the old sonic, though. The air is all wrong — all full of quantum stuff, stuff that doesn’t belong here.” 

If you were thoroughly honest, you didn’t want to think too much on the implications of that particular explanation. You knew that it more than likely spelled disaster for at least a few innocent bystanders.

It’s a fleeting thought, and you consciously choose to keep it that way and concentrate instead on the fact that your sister doesn’t seem to have been one of the unsuspecting victims. 

“S’not just the air. Everything feels wrong,” you supply, wrapping your arms around yourself.  There isn’t a chill in the air but you shiver all the same, and on instinct, you move closer to The Doctor’s side. 

He hums, pausing a moment to survey the immediate area. There doesn’t seem to be anything strange within arm’s reach, which is both troublesome and a relief. 

“C’mon then, let’s keep moving,” he urges you, and you keep pace with him, same as always. Maybe with a bit more confidence in your stride than usual, because this is personal to you. The last thing you want to do is show these creatures even a speck of vulnerability. 

It’s a moment before anything significant happens, but when it does, it just about scares you out of your skin. The pair of you are doing just as you’ve been for the past few minutes, keeping a lookout, walking along, when you come across the old oak tree at the center of the park. 

You don’t see your sister immediately — the first thing you see is the statue, in fact, still as the stone it appears to be made from. The Doctor is looking off to the side, looking here and there and everywhere for anything off-putting. You don’t think anything of it, The Doctor’s passing comment about blinking, so when your eyelashes flutter and the statues suddenly turns, all vacant eyes and cracked stone, you stop dead in your tracks. It doesn’t register at first, what’s actually happening — not until you blink a second time and the Angel rushes forward a foot or two. 

And then it hits you. 

Don’t blink. Never blink. 

“Doctor,” you say quietly — why, you aren’t entirely sure. It’s a statue, isn’t it? Can it even hear you? But then, you think, it moves. Surely it can hear you. 

The Doctor has stopped a few paces ahead of you, already having taken notice of the looming threat. There are three statues total: The one that seems to have noticed the pair of you and two more, still facing away from you, facing—  

“S/N!” you call out. It takes everything in your power not to sprint toward her, to let the protective instinct that comes with being an older sister take over, but you clearly remember what The Doctor had asked of you before you had left the TARDIS. No sudden movements. Stay close. Don’t put yourself in immediate danger. 

Your sister’s eyes meet yours, and she responds by calling out your name, looking equal parts terrified and relieved to see both you and The Doctor.  She was the one and only person who knew about The Doctor — who he was, what he was, who he was to you.  It was the reason you had a code word, a way for her to indicate  to you that she was in, er… extraterrestrial danger without giving away the fact that she just so happened to personally know an alien. 

“What do we do?” you ask, never taking your eyes off the Angels that have your sister cornered. You’re unwilling to take that chance. “How do we get her out of this?” 

The Doctor is quiet for a time. The look on his face is hard, calculated, the way it tends to get when he’s mulling over details in his head — trying to come up with a plan to save your life, or his life, or the life of whatever planet he happened to be gallivanting the streets of that particular day. 

Eventually, he grunts. 

“It’s a bloody shame we attracted the attention of this one,” he mutters, shaking his head. “If it’d stayed put we’d have been able to thwart the lot of them.  No sense crying over spilled milk — past is the past and all that. Well — you know what I mean. We’ll just have to work with what we’ve got.” 

His eyes, of course, aren’t on you; he’s still watching the statue facing the two of you closely, as closely as possible, it seems, but you can tell he’s talking to you, bouncing ideas off of you as he so often does. 

“Y/N, I’m going to need you to do me a favor,” he says, and you swallow hard.  You haven’t the first clue what might go into a typical fight against a Weeping Angel — or if there would be a fight at all.  The Doctor had told you that your very best bet would have been to run, after all.  You wonder how you — the three of you, at that — are going to manage that. 

“Tell me what to do,” you say, regardless. Your voice is soft, and you’re trying to keep it from trembling, still.  It’s a feat, because of all of the creatures you’ve come across in your time with The Doctor, you’ve never had to ward any of them off by means of a staring contest. It makes you feel helpless. Like a child, staring into the face of danger without a clue what to do. 

“Go back to the TARDIS. Past the control room and down the second hallway to the left of the console, there’ll be a door — fifth door on the left.  That’s the mirror room. Big mirrors, small mirrors, short mirrors, long mirrors, tall mirrors — every type of mirror you could think of.  Go to that room, and bring me the biggest mirror that you can carry,” he instructs you, and for a split second, your confusion eats through your fear. 

“What’ve you got a mirror room for?” you ask without thinking. 

“For situations like this!” The Doctor exclaims, not having it. He gestures back toward the TARDIS as well as he can while still facing the Angel. “Now go!” 

The loud, stern tone of his voice startles you into action, and you don’t even bother to nod your agreement before you turn and begin to sprint back toward the blue box in the distance.  You don’t get far, though — you’ve only made it a few meters, in fact, when The Doctor stops you short. 

“And Y/N!” he calls to you. “Bring me a pair of aviators as well!” 

This, as well, doesn’t make a lick of sense. 

“What? Why?” you ask. 

“Because aviators are cool, that’s why,” he responds with a huff. “Is that answer not good enough for anybody?” 

You snort, because of course. Of course that was his answer.  

You write the absurdity of it all off for the time being (because when does anything involving The Doctor make sense, anyways?), and soon enough you’re off and running again.  It doesn’t take you very long at all to make it back to the TARDIS — not that it’d been too far off in the first place.  You’d have been lying, though, if you’d said it hadn’t hurried you right up when you’d heard The Doctor calling out to your sister, telling her to keep watching the Angels, for just a little while longer. 

As you hurry through the console room and down the hallway that you had been instructed to find, you allow yourself, just for the bit of time that you’re alone, to feel scared.

Because you are scared. You’re petrified, in fact, but you’re not about to show that kind of weakness in front your sister.  The Doctor wasn’t the one you were concerned with — no, he had already seen you at your worst. He had already watched you fall apart and loved you anyways. 

S/N, though… you had always been her rock. Not that the support was one-sided; it wasn’t, not in the least, it was just — you were the oldest. You were the big sister, the brave sister who had chosen adventures through time and space over a 9 to 5 job or a uni degree.  You weren’t supposed to be afraid; you were supposed to be strong for her, because she was the one in danger right now. 

But now, right now, you allowed yourself to slip. You allowed your expression to dissolve into one of unadulterated fear and tears to collect in your eyes, because sure — S/N was in danger, but so were you. You were in danger of losing her. 

Once you find the mirror room — which is well and truly a room full of mirrors and only mirrors — you waste no time in following The Doctor’s instructions. You take the largest mirror you can carry under your arm, and find your way back through the console room and into the wardrobe. 

It takes you a moment to find any aviators, you’ll admit, because frankly, you don’t think you’ve ever seen The Doctor wear them. You do find them eventually, though, amongst a slew of other miscellaneous accessories, and once you’ve got the sunglasses in your pocket, you’re off. 

You gather your composure as you run, careful not to let the mirror slip from your grasp. It’s large and a bit heavy and awkward to carry, but you manage it, and it’s not much longer before you’re at The Doctor’s side once more. 

“Here,” you pant, steadying the mirror and wiping the sweat from your brow. “Now what?” 

The Doctor only grins. “Aviators,” he says simply. He holds his left hand out to you, and you can’t help but smile and roll your eyes, just a bit.  He absolutely has his swagger back — the swagger that makes you feel like everything is going to be alright, no matter what — and you take that as a good sign. 

He takes the aviators from you and promptly puts them on, still smiling that goofy smile of his as he takes a step toward the Angel still in front of him.  A nasty jolt passes through you, and instinct tells you to stop him; to yell for him to get away from the sinister thing, because he had told you to keep your distance.  You restrain yourself, however, because you know that he knows what he’s doing. 

“Aviators,” he says again, snapping his fingers before pointing one finger directly into the Angel’s face. “Very cool. Very 80’s. Or was it 50’s? Could’ve been both, if I’m honest. Anyways! Aviators aren’t just cool — they’re also mirrored. And do you know what that means, Ana?” 

You shake your head, laughing softly as you indulge his rambling. “No. What’s it mean?” you ask, and he laughs as well, clearly delighted. 

“It means, my love, that this’ere Angel is looking at me. But by looking at me, in my very cool aviators, she’s seeing a reflection of herself. Which, unfortunately for her, means that I can blink as much as I’d like and she won’t be able to move an inch,” he explains, and you light up. 

“That’s brilliant,” you say, positively relieved that The Doctor seems to have come into this situation with a plan. You can’t say for sure why you had ever thought otherwise — not apart from panic, anyhow.  Your smile is soft as you watch him for a moment, as in awe of him now as you’d been from the start. “And I think it’s fair to say you’re quite handsome in’em, too,” you add.

“Well, that’s just a bonus, isn’t it?” he quips, distancing himself from the statue once more. You can’t see his eyes from behind the sunglasses, but you’d have bet your life’s savings that he’d just winked at you. “Now, all flattery aside: I’m going to stay put — keep this one in her place. You go to S/N, and prop that mirror where she’s standing, right up against that tree. Once you’ve done that, those Angels won’t be able to move from their spots. All of that alright with you?” 

You turn your gaze back on S/N, all bright eyes and invigorated smiles as you nod your head. 

“More than,” you say, and hoist the mirror up underneath of your arm once more. You turn and head toward your sister without an ounce of hesitation, laughing happily as you get close enough to see her face, which is about 90% exasperation at this point. 

“If the two of you are done flirting, now,” she scolds you, even though her smile gives away her relief. 

“Oh, come off it,” you mutter, careful as you inch your way around the Angels, mirror in hand. 

“I’d roll my eyes at you, but you know — the gargoyles here would have me, then,” she goes on to say, and you laugh happily. You’ve made your way past the brooding statues by now, and you take care as you go about setting up the mirror just the way The Doctor had told you to.  It’s a bit eerie, certainly, the reflections of the Angels that you can see in the mirror as you set it upright; one of them is standing there with its arm outstretched, blank-faced, but the other had clearly taken a more aggressive approach, right down to its bared teeth.  You allow yourself a shudder as you make certain that the mirror is sturdy and that both of them are visible in it, but that’s all the more you think of it before you straighten up and take your sister’s hand. 

“C’mon, let’s leave the gargoyles to rot,” you say, and guide her out of the way of the Angels. They stay put just like The Doctor had said they would, much to your relief, and you thank every lucky star you’ve ever had for that. 

You’re just a few paces away from The Doctor when he claps his hands and grins, gesturing your way. 

“That’s my girl,” he says, and you beam.  You throw your arm around your sister, mussing her hair as you keep towards him. 

“Safe and sound,” you announce just as she swats at you and ducks out of your grip, grumbling as she smooths her hair down. 

“Yeah, yeah. Heroes, both of you,” she mutters. You flash her a smile all the same, nothing but grateful that she’s still here to snark at you. 

“What about this one?” you ask, gesturing to the third Angel — the one The Doctor has been keeping docile himself. “Should I go and get another mirror?” 

The Doctor shakes his head, grimacing a bit as he spares a quick glance at you. “Unfortunately, I haven’t collected any freestanding mirrors yet. All those mirrors, and not a single one that doesn’t need to be hung up on a wall. Blimey.” 

You wince at that, not liking the sound of that at all. Obviously, he can’t just stay here, can he? Nor could anyone else.  And if he didn’t have a mirror to keep the Angel stagnant, what could he do? 

“There is another solution,” he reassures you promptly. “It’ll stand out a bit more than the mirror — people will be less likely to think it’s some sort of modern art piece, and because of that it’ll definitely be temporary. But it will get the lot of us out of this park, which is today’s goal.” 

“Well alright, then. What do we do?” you ask, wanting nothing more in the world than to get the two people you love most in the world out of this gut-wrenching situation. The Doctor sighs. 

“Go back to the wardrobe and get one of the mannequins,” he says, and you blink, completely and utterly confused for the third time today. Everything in you wants to question it, but you don’t much see the point — after all, the “mirror room” idea had sounded completely absurd until you had seen it in action, and you suppose the mannequin isn’t likely to be much different. 

It’s with that thought in mind that you turn and head for the TARDIS once more, gesturing for your sister to follow as you make the brief sprint. 

  You can’t help but smile as the pair of you walk through the doors and your sister’s eyes light up with awe at the size of the ship, the soft glow of the lights and the gadgets here there and everywhere. You make a mental note to bring her back onboard the TARDIS later on (when the Angels are no longer a factor) so that she can enjoy it properly. 

“It never gets old, does it?” she asks as you find your way into the wardrobe once more, wasting no time in stripping one of the mannequins of its eccentric outfit. You tuck it underneath of your arm, just like you’d done with the mirror, and breathe a heavy sigh. 

“It really doesn’t,” you confirm, flashing her a grin over your shoulder as you turn and make a beeline for the doors. You’re at The Doctor’s side again not a minute later, and you watch with interest as he takes the mannequin from you and stands it up in front of the angel.  

“Like the Nestene meeting a Weeping Angel,” he muses as he takes off the aviators that he’d been oh-so proud of and puts them on the mannequin instead.  It’s clever, you’ve got to admit, but he’s definitely right — it won’t last. 

You try not to think too much on that, though.  You concentrate instead on The Doctor, and on your sister, safe at your side as you walk back toward the TARDIS for what you hoped would be the final time today.

“Fancy an adventure, then?” you ask S/N, waggling your eyebrows at her. It’s been a good little while since she’s been away from Earth, and if you were being completely honest with yourself, you wouldn’t have minded having her close to you for a little while longer following the scare she had given you.  To your surprise, though, she shakes her head. 

“Thanks, but I’m alright,” she says, and gives you a nudge as the three of you stop just short of the TARDIS doors. “I think all of this was adventurous enough for one day.  I’m pretty sure I just want to head back to mine and have a hefty nap.” 

You can’t help but laugh at that, and you acknowledge her with a nod 

“Fair enough,” you admit.  You pull her into a quick hug before you allow her to go on her way, at which she groans, but hugs you back just as tightly anyhow. The two of you exchange goodbyes and “I-love-you’s” and “remember-to-stay-in-touch’s”, and then she’s on her way.

As soon as your sister is safely on her way back to her flat, you turn back toward The Doctor and gather him into a hug of his very own.  He’s a lot more accepting of your affections, of course, and you hear him laugh softly as he gathers you up in his arms and holds you close. 

“Everything alright?” he asks, and you grin, pulling back just enough to look up at him. 

“Everything’s alright,” you say, and reach to cradle one of his cheeks in your hand as you press a kiss to the other. “Shame we have to leave those aviators behind, though. I think they were just cool enough to balance out that bowtie of yours.” 

“Oi!” he exclaims in response to your teasing, and you giggle. 

“Kidding,” you reassure him. You emphasize your statement by taking a step back to straighten the aforementioned bowtie.

“You’d better be,” he says, makes a show of tickling your sides a bit before he stops to take your hand in his. “What’d you say to a trip to the 80’s? Or the 50’s. Wouldn’t take long to find a brand-new pair of aviators in either decade.” 

You nod your head in happy agreement, and as the pair of you turn and make your way back into the TARDIS side by side, you feel just a bit more like the hero your little sister had always made you out to be when you had been younger.

[ayearofpike]

Remember Me 2: The Return

Pocket Books, 1994 210 pages, 16 chapters + epilogue ISBN 0-671-87265-6 LOC: unknown (catalog down as I wrote this) OCLC: 30986560 Released September 1, 1994 (per B&N)

Shari Cooper, having passed into the light after her untimely death, is learning to be one with the universe and accept it with love and grace. It makes her a perfect candidate to return to the realm of the living — only she’s not going to have such an easy, pampered life. Rather, she’ll have to take on the life and struggles of a downtrodden minority who has given up, and work to improve the lot of everyone in her circle.

So here’s the one that Pike said he should have refused, that the publisher talked him into a sequel but in retrospect it damaged the story. But ... I don’t hate it? I know, that last entry was super vitriolic and angry about sequels and Pike’s slide into essentially irrelevance. Still, I was surprised that this book is not totally horrible — save one major racial problem that we’ll get to.

One thing that definitely annoys me about this book: the new die-cut covers. When I picked this one up at the store, I thought it was the awesomest thing: extra-spooky typeface that shows the art THROUGH it rather than just a generic script along the margins? But then I got the next one and stuck it on the bookshelf by this one, and the back cover caught the fingers of the E and PFFFTT. It took them a couple years to catch on and just print it, which, while a kludge, is preferable to the six or however many torn ones I have.

But narrative-construction-wise (as opposed to physical-construction-wise) the book actually holds up. Pike alternates between the first-person consciousness of Shari and the third-person observation of Jean Rodrigues, a poor and unmotivated but hot Latina living in the projects in Los Angeles. It’s not really a spoiler to say that Shari ends up taking over Jean’s body, and the realization marks a nice in-time shift in descriptive perspective as she suddenly understands that “she” is “I.”

So how the hell am I going to summarize this, considering the construction and flipping between astral plane and physical realm is what makes this book work? I guess you’re just going to have to trust me, and read it if you want. I’m going to punch through the world beyond the light first and then come back to Jean, even though it’s her who opens the novel.

We know Shari’s dead, and we know she planned to go into the light at the close of events of the last novel. Our first encounter with her here has her talking with a more-enlightened being, who acts as a teacher and a guide to help Shari understand that the love she gave and the services she rendered are the more important elements of her life, beyond the expensive house and the indulgent parents and the fucking Ferrari. As she starts to get it, he suggests that she should become a Wanderer — a soul that takes over a living body rather than being reborn from the beginning and works to make things better. She’s interested, but she also wants to talk to Peter before she goes back.

Yeah, remember Peter? Well, I never said his name in the first summary —  the spirit guide who loved her in life. He was able to get through too. He overcame his fear that he wasn’t good enough, and now he’s on the eternal plane with Shari. They construct the prom that they never went to, but just before they can get it on in the hotel room afterwards Peter lets his body get ripped open by the alien xenomorph that he decides to turn into as a joke. I have to admit it’s funny, but it highlights what Peter might still be afraid of: love, intimacy, getting too close, not being good enough still. So instead of boning, they explore the stars, and there’s some metaphysical shit about a black hole and how everything is interconnected that makes Shari realize she’s ready to be alive again and start making a difference.

Of course Peter wants to go too, but the fact that he killed himself is going to be an obstacle. These fears that he can’t quite release, and the circumstances of his death, mean that he’ll be resurrected into a body that is less than whole. Peter’s willing to take the hit, and the teacher accepts because he senses Peter’s love is pure. Also, the teacher lets them know that they’ll need some kind of a shock to the system in order to remember what they know about the cosmos, but even if they don’t they’ll still know they have some kind of higher purpose.

So now I’ve gotta jump all the way back to the beginning and talk about Jean. We get more male-gazey description of this hot brown mamacita, but I wasn’t quite as grossed out this time because her looks are the only thing Jean likes about herself. She’s down on her prospects, down on school, down on her family and what her life might turn into — because she’s pregnant with her boyfriend’s kid at 18. And tonight is his birthday party, and she’s going to tell him.

The birthday boy is Lenny Mandez, a gang dropout who finished high school at 20 and is trying to get clean but still has too many connections. He lives in a ramshackle house on a hill surrounded by oil wells, dirty but good enough to get wasted at. And I don’t really like the fact that the first time we have a whole cast of Latinxs they’re gang-bangers and dopeheads and dropouts — but the picture is real. I had plenty of friends and coworkers as a young food service employee in the Southwest who felt like this was their ceiling, this was all they could get, this was all they should aspire to. Which is part of why this story starts to piss me off later, but we’ll get to that.

So Jean tells Lenny about the baby, he’s less than thrilled, but then there’s a meeting. Kind of parallel to what happened in the first book, only with fewer people. It seems that a friend just got gunned down in a drive-by, and his girl wants revenge. She and Lenny are planning everything out, Jean’s best friend (who is a lesbian but again, don’t be squicked out, kids in 1994, because she totally doesn’t hit on Jean or anything!) doesn’t want to get involved, and Jean really doesn’t want them to pursue this. Why do they drive themselves down, Jean asks? Why can’t they aspire to anything better? Nobody’s hearing it, so she goes out on the balcony (because, sure, there’s a balcony in a two-bedroom house in the projects) to pray for help and understanding.

And the thing collapses out from under her.

She wakes up in the hospital three days later, with a concussion and several broken bones. Her mom is there and just breaks down out of happiness, because there was no sign that she would ever wake up until just a little bit before she did. She had a miscarriage too, which ... is sort of glossed over and forgotten quickly. But Lenny was on the balcony too, and he broke his back, severed the spinal cord and will probably never walk again, and now he just wants to die.

See, maybe I gave away too much too soon by breaking the story down the way I did.

But anyway, Jean suddenly feels less selfish and more giving, and she wants to help. She starts volunteering in the hospital as soon as she’s well enough, and has crazy ideas for stories about aliens and monsters and things. (Because evidently the best way to give your family and community a leg up is to become a horror and sci-fi writer. Getting less and less sly as we go along, Pike.) One of her patients (who is dying of leukemia, because everything old is new again) actually inspires her first short story, a tale of a successful writer whose muse wants in on the action and starts blackmailing her, which includes this frustrating little nugget.

But Jean isn’t satisfied just being her new self. Something is drawing her away from the hood and out to the rich developments. She takes a bus to Huntington Beach and walks with no goal in mind until she finds a bloodstain on the concrete by a condo. The property manager assumes she’s a friend of the poor girl who fell to her death the previous year and helps her find the family house, which of course she goes straight to and finds Shari’s brother moving out. She gets him to let her help in exchange for a ride home, and after reading the short story at the grave of her patient she feels compelled to go see him right away.

He lets her in and they immediately start talking about the dead sister. They’re both unnerved, but they keep going because something compels them. In fact, the brother reveals that he has a file on his computer that he’s never shared with anyone — a story written while he was sleepwalking that tells about his sister’s death and the events around it. Jean starts reading it, but she doesn’t have to finish because of course she wrote it. She is Shari. Shari is her. Shari has taken over Jean’s body in light of her prayer for help.

And this right here is where I get pissed. Like, Pike has constructed the realistically untenable situation of undereducated Latinxs in America. He’s written it with ... well, if not tenderness and understanding, then at least care and consideration. And he’s got a protagonist who wants to help her family and her community rise up and get out of the problematic cycle. BUT THEN. As soon as Jean Rodrigues realizes she’s Shari Cooper, the whole fuckin’ community goes out the window and Shari takes over and wants to try to reconstruct her old life. I mean, yeah, she gives some lip service to where she came from, but right away she’s like, yeah, let’s see my birth mom, let’s get my old best friend in here, let’s find the detective who cracked the case. 

More than that: we’re getting a white savior story. Yes, this was many years before we understood the problems endemic to this trope, but still, that’s what it is. It requires the soul of a white girl going into the body of a Latina for her to want to start improving herself and her situation. It didn’t bother me then, because hey actual brown people in YA lit, take what I can get. But now? It bugs the fuckin’ shit out of me.

But Shari/Jean does actually still care about Lenny. Knowing she’s Shari, she’s surprised by the depth of feeling she has for him. (I mean, we’re not, because I gave away the reveal already.) What’s more, she still wants him to live a meaningful life beyond vengeance. Word is he’s gotten out of the hospital and out of rehab, and is mobile in a wheelchair, and is tracking down a gun. Shari/Jean knows what that means, and she goes to collect him and get him out of the projects to meet her new/old brother. 

Lenny is surprisingly amenable to going with her — but only because it’s Jean that he’s going after the whole time, and now he’ll have ample opportunity to kill her away from where people know her and will suspect. See, he knows that he used protection every time they had sex, so he knows he can’t be the father of the (now-non) baby, and so she must have cheated on him. In fact, he figured it was his best friend, based on their prior relationship, and so he got the dude into the rival turf so that he’d be a target. And now he’s going to end Jean, who doesn’t love him and never did, and save a bullet for himself.

Lenny doesn’t see the parallels to the end of Peter’s life, because he never reads. (He says so himself.) But Shari/Jean does. She does her best to try to talk him out of his actions, but still ends up hanging from another goddamn balcony as he shoots at her fingers. It’s only as she’s slipping away, millimeters from death, that Peter wakes up and realizes who he is.

It’s too late to grab her hand, and Shari/Jean falls. Lucky for her, there’s a pool under this balcony, and she lands in the deep end. (Her best friend makes a joke out of it, actually, which did get a chuckle from me.) And then, just as everybody knows who they are and where they’re from and what they’re supposed to do: we get another goddamn “to be continued.”

I really don’t like ongoing sagas. Not sure what it is, but I have increasingly lost patience with them as I get older. (I think this is part of why I had such an angry reaction to The Last Vampire.) So the idea that I have to wait for another book to get the rest of the story bugs me, even though a) I have it on the shelf and don’t technically have to wait and b) this resurrection story hangs together OK. As I recall, the “white savior” and “forgetting where you come from” elements are even worse in the third book — as in, I’ll stop calling her Jean or even Shari/Jean, because she’s just Shari. Still, this one wasn’t as painful as I expected it to be, especially reading it for the first time in, I don’t know, 20 years after so many Pike Facebook posts regretting it.

[lilacmoon83]

Lightning in a Bottle

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 13: Family Bond

"You don't understand...my sister was always horrible to me! She pushed me around and she never deserved Jacob," Clorinda cried. At first, when she had been arrested for being in possession of Tisbe's missing necklace, she had been silent until Killian pressed her about how her sister was determined to save her husband's employees from his blackmail and extortion. Clorinda immediately had jumped in to defend Jacob and went off on her sister.

"When the plane disappeared, I didn't cry one tear! Jacob and I were happy and then she just waltzes back in like nothing had changed!" Clorinda confessed.

"Did Jacob tell her that he wanted a divorce?" Killian asked.

"N...no, because she was crazy and knew about his problems with his employees," Clorinda replied.

"You mean how he was extorting money from them through blackmail?" Killian asked, making her wince.

"He's not a bad man...he's not," she pleaded.

"It kind of sounds like he was content to still be married to Tisbe and have you on the side," Killian replied.

"It's not like that! He loves me! He hated that Tisbe came back!" she insisted.

"So...you killed her," Killian deduced. A tear slipped down her cheek.

"She was dead anyway! Whoever came back was not my sister!" she spat. At that point, her lawyer arrived and shut down the interrogation. Not that it mattered much. The district attorney would have enough to convict and a jury would likely see it that way as well.

Killian sighed, as he came out of the interrogation room where Emma stood waiting.

"Well...she confessed when we pressed her about the necklace. She and Jacob fell in love while she was gone, but apparently Tisbe was having none of that," he said.

"So she shot her," Emma deduced.

"Most likely…" he said, as he looked at her.

"What?" she asked.

"It's just...you found those girls and now you happened to run right into Clorinda out on the streets," he replied. She gave him a withering look.

"I told you that I was looking for Lily's father. He was lost and confused and I found him," she replied.

"And it just happened to be Clorinda that almost ran him over," Killian said.

"What are you asking me?" she questioned. He shrugged.

"Clorinda said that her sister was a different person when she came back...and I would have to say the same about you," he mentioned.

"Look…I can't explain what happened to us. Something happened, but I don't know what. I'm not doing any of this...it's just happening," she said. He nodded, as he watched her go. He pulled Vance's card from his pocket. He would definitely want to know about this development, but despite seemingly having inside information from some source, he knew that Emma didn't have sinister intentions. He tore up Vance's card and tossed it in the trash. He didn't work for the NSA and certainly wasn't going to spy on Emma for them.

~*~

Emma unlocked Walsh's cell and let him out.

"Clorinda Taylor killed her sister, so you're free to go," Emma said.

"Yes...and in the process, I see you have owned your truth and accepted your place among the returned," Walsh praised. She sighed.

"No, I did my job and found the real killer. There's nothing special about me," she refuted.

"That's where you're wrong...and you know it. You've been reborn and you are enlightened. The rest of us can only dream of being one of the returned," he said.

"You can pick your things up at the desk," Emma said, as she left to go home and get some sleep. David had roped her into going to some dinner at Leopold Blanchard's house of all places tomorrow night. She had agreed, only on the chance that he really was up to no good and if he had Margaret in his sights again, Emma was going to be there to protect her family.

~*~

The next day, Margaret was practically giddy, as she packed a picnic basket full of sandwiches, fruits and veggies, chips, and cookies. It was their first Saturday together as a family and they planned to make the most of it. They were going to the park. The same park that was near the playground where they had met as children and near the woods where there was a bridge they used to frequent as well. It was a very special place for her and David. The small, rickety wooden bridge was where they had shared their first kiss, where they declared their love for each other, and even where he had proposed.

After the plane disappeared and on the one year anniversary of the disappearance, Margaret had gone there, but it had been too painful. She had been a mess and cried for hours sitting alone on that bridge. After that, she never went back and thought she never would again. But then the plane came back and gave everything back to her as quickly as it had taken it away.

"Come on you two...let's go," she called, as she closed the picnic basket and David picked it up for her.

"Wow...this thing weighs a ton. Did you invite an army to our picnic?" he teased and she kissed him tenderly.

"No...it's just us. Guess I did get a little carried away," she winced, but he smiled and kissed her again.

"I love that you get carried away," he said fondly.

"I...I just thought we'd never have a family picnic again. It doesn't seem like much...but I will never take it for granted again," she replied. He smiled.

"Neither will I," he said, as the kids hurried into the kitchen.

"Can we stop and get some kites?" Henry asked.

"Sure...that sounds like a lot of fun," David answered, as he carried the basket out. Margaret grabbed her keys and stepped out the door, only to find a couple of their neighbors there.

"Oh, Marcus and Cecelia...good to see you," she said.

"We just came over to check on you and make sure you're okay, you know with everything that's happened," the woman mentioned. Margaret beamed a smile.

"Everything is wonderful, but thank you," she replied.

"You're sure?" Marcus asked skeptically.

"Of course...I just got the love of my life back and my son. Why wouldn't things be okay?" she asked.

"Um...well, we have just heard that some of the people on that plane have come back...different," Ceceila mentioned.

"Yes...and we just wanted to make sure things are okay for you and Olive," Marcus added. Margaret wanted to think that their concern was real and she knew part of it probably was. They had always been nice, albeit a bit nosy and they had fallen on hard times in the last year. She suspected that the news vans that were still parked near the house had questioned them about any dirt they might have about them.

"I have my true love back and my son. The man I married is the man that returned to me, you can be assured of that," she said shortly.

"We're...we're sorry if we offended you," Marcus replied, a bit ashamed.

"I'm sure whatever payday the news station offered you is tempting and I can't tell you not to take it. So...whatever juicy lie you need to come up with to get your money makes no difference to me, because I know the truth and that is that my husband and I just got a second chance. My son's cancer now has a viable treatment and it's nothing short of a miracle. If that story doesn't work for them, then feel free to come up with something that will sell some newspapers," she said, as she walked toward the car.

"Everything okay?" David asked, as he shut the trunk and she kissed him.

"Everything is wonderful...just nosy neighbors," she replied.

"Ah...wondering if I'm an alien," he deduced, as he surprised her and kissed her passionately, while gently pushing her against the car. She lost herself in his kiss and slid her arms around his neck, as they enjoyed a mini makeout session.

"Might as well give them all something to gawk at," he said and she smiled, before they got into the car.

"Finally…I thought you guys were gonna make out all day," Olive complained without looking up from her phone. They chuckled.

"Just giving the reporters something to look at," he teased.

"Why would they want to look at you kissing Mom?" Henry asked.

"Because they think we're...different now," David replied. Neither he nor Margaret saw a reason to hide things from Henry. It was important that he knew to be leery of people now with everything that had happened.

"Like that weird lady?" he asked.

"Yes...though I think she thought we were good. I'm afraid there are going to be those that think we are now something sinister," Margaret warned him truthfully.

"I get it...but it's kind of dumb," Henry said bluntly. David chuckled, as he backed out of the driveway and they drove away.

"We agree, buddy, but some people don't understand and don't like people that are different. It's unfortunate and sometimes makes people do bad things. It's important that you are both careful and that you don't go places alone for a while," he advised, though most of that was directed at Olive, as they wouldn't let Henry go anywhere alone at his age even under normal circumstances.

"Is that why Leopold wants us to come now? You think it's a way to get himself in the news?" Olive asked. David and Margaret exchanged a glance. As usual, their daughter was sharp as a tack.

"Knowing him...probably, which is why we're going to his house for dinner. I'm giving him one more chance to not be a terrible person, but if he's got some sort of plan to make a spectacle of your father and your brother, then they're going to get a spectacle from me, but it won't exactly be what he wants," Margaret promised. David smirked at that.

"But enough of that. This is a family day and we're not going to let some nosy reporters spoil our day," Margaret said.

"Your mother is right...let's get those kites," he replied, as they were on their way.

~*~

Regina looked in the microscope again and then sighed. She didn't know why she kept looking. It wasn't going to change the results of what she had found. She, David, and Henry all had the protein in their blood. Then the results of her MRI were clear. Ischemic stroke. There was no getting around the correlation. It was entirely possible that this protein was connected to Ischemic stroke, which she needed to explain to David and Margaret. As she was about to call them, she saw her mother come in and sighed.

"Mother…I told you I would be there tonight," Regina said in annoyance.

"I know...I was just hoping you'd let me take you shopping for a dress. I know you're having to replace all your things," Cora said.

"Because you made Daddy donate all my stuff," she muttered.

"Believe it or not...we did that, because we were trying to move on," Cora said. Regina sighed.

"I know...I don't blame you for that," she replied.

"What has you so stressed?" Cora inquired.

"It's just...a patient. We can go," Regina said, as she removed her lab coat. It was Saturday, after all and she decided that this could probably wait. She would tell them when Henry came in for his treatment on Monday. She was still waiting to hear about Tisbe Taylor's body and if she could participate in the autopsy. Getting a look at a passenger brain could be really the only way to know what they were dealing with for sure. Cora smiled at her and they left.

~*~

Emma took a deep breath and knocked on Mal's door. She opened it and actually had a smile for the other woman.

"Emma...come in, please," she said.

"I just wanted to stop by and check on Zoran. How is he?" she asked.

"He's okay. He doesn't really remember yesterday at all and I think this time, it's better that way," Mal replied. She nodded in agreement.

"Listen Emma...I want you to know that I am really grateful for what you did last night. Zoran could have been killed if you hadn't found him," Mal said.

"I'm just glad I got there in time," Emma replied, as she sat down.

"I read the headlines. Looks like you also found a killer last night as well," Mal said.

"Uh yeah...dumb luck that the person that almost hit Zoran just happened to be the killer in an active investigation," Emma replied. Mal gave her a look.

"Emma...coincidences like that don't happen, even for a cop as good as you," she said. Emma sighed.

"You're different since you came back...make sure you use this second chance to make a difference," Mal advised. Emma nodded.

"I will," she promised, as Zoran came into the room.

"Oh, we have company," he said, as the two women exchanged a look.

"Yeah...I'm Emma. I'm a friend of Lily's," she said, as they shook hands.

"Oh...it's nice to meet you. Lily should be home soon," he said.

"Yes...maybe we can have some tea while we wait and get to know you," Mal suggested, as she went to the kitchen. Emma smiled and nodded. In Lily's absence, if she could bring them both just a little comfort in these sad times, then she wanted to do that for her best friend.

~*~

"Okay...go!" David said, as he handed the kite reel to his son and the wind caught it. Henry ran through the park with it and Olive followed him closely, while David and Margaret watched on fondly.

"It's okay...I can watch him. We're close to the bridge if you two want to take a walk," Olive told them.

"Are you sure?" Margaret asked.

"Course...the kid and I are fine," Olive replied.

"You know, it's not fair. I was born first and used to be older than you," Henry complained. She smirked.

"And now I get to be the boss of you, haha," she teased. David smiled.

"Okay...we won't be far," he said, as he joined hands with his wife and they strolled off.

"Good call," they heard Henry say.

"It's either that or we have to watch them make out again and no one wants that," they heard Olive say. They grinned at each other.

"She sounds just like Emma," he mentioned.

"Oh I know," she agreed, as they made their way to the bridge and the memories called to them.

~*~

7th Grade - 1992

David and Margaret sat on the bridge together with their heads resting against each other's. They both had been crying, which was understandable, since they had buried David's mother today.

"I miss her," Margaret said. He sniffed.

"Me too...but I know this would be a thousand times harder without you," he replied, making her blush slightly. She took his hand though and he looked at her, swallowing thickly. She was so beautiful.

"I...I know they tell us that we're too young to know what real love is, but they're wrong," he said. She smiled.

"They are," she agreed.

"I love you, MM...I have since the moment we met," he admitted, bringing tears to her eyes.

"Oh David...I love you too," she gushed. Her heart quickened, as he slowly leaned in and she closed her eyes. He pressed his lips softly to hers in a short, tender kiss. Margaret felt her heart flutter and butterflies in her stomach. Their lips parted and her eyes opened, meeting his and they shared a smile. Ruth was gone and his father had fallen off the wagon, but he knew he was going to make it, because he had her. He offered his hand to her and she took it, as they started for home. From now on, it was just them and Emma against the world.

~*~

"That day seems like so long ago…" he mentioned, as they smiled at the memory.

"You didn't even really ask me to officially be your girlfriend that day, but I just knew that's what we were," she replied.

"Officially, but I wanted you to be mine the moment I helped you cross the monkey bars when we were eight," he said. She giggled.

"I know, you picked snowdrops out of my mother's garden the next day and came to the door with them, roots and all," she said, as they laughed at the memory.

"My mother thought it was too adorable to scold you," she recalled.

"I couldn't help it. I knew you were a princess and I wanted to be your prince," he said.

"And you have been since," she replied, as he kissed her hand, admiring his mother's ring on her finger.

"I remember the night you put this on my finger too…" she said.

"We got a lot of dirty looks from people after that, considering we were only sixteen," he replied.

"And we couldn't have cared less. That night was amazing. You put your mother's ring on my finger and we made love for the first time that night," she recalled.

~*~

1996

"I can't believe he did that," Margaret lamented, as they walked to the bridge after school, hand in hand.

"I know...seeing you be pushed into the back of that car terrified me. I wondered for a minute if I'd ever see you again," he confessed, as they stopped on the bridge and only the sound of the babbling creek beneath them filled the air. He fidgeted with his mother's ring that was in his pocket nervously. She had left it to him with the instructions that he was to give it to the woman he wanted to marry and somehow, he knew his mother probably knew he would one day put it on Margaret's finger.

"Oh David...I was scared too. The thought of never seeing you again...it broke me a little," she said, as he took her in his arms and they kissed passionately. They may have only been sixteen, but that didn't mean their love wasn't real, despite what people thought.

"Then I hope you don't think I'm crazy with what I'm about to do," he said and she gasped, as he got down on one knee.

"I know we can't get married until we're adults and even if we get engaged now, we have to keep it secret," he said.

"But I'm okay with that...and I know we're young, but I want to marry you someday," he continued.

"Will you marry me?" he asked, as he presented the ring to her. Tears slipped down her cheeks and she sniffed.

"What do you think?" she asked rhetorically, as she held out her hand and he slipped the ring on her finger. He stood up and they shared another passionate kiss.

"Come on...let's go home," she said, as they joined hands and walked home.

~*~

"Yeah...what a night," he recalled, as he was remembering that first night of passion.

"I know…" she gushed, as she slipped her arms around his waist and he kissed her hair.

"Are you sure you want to go tonight? I know how many bad memories your father brings up," he said, a little worried about her. She nodded.

"He does...but I need to know what he's up to. Call me crazy...but I just have this feeling that there is a reason we need to go," she replied.

"I would never call you crazy and have always trusted your instincts. Besides, I'm the one that hears voices in his head now," he joked.

"You're not crazy either...that voice saved two little girls. That voice might be the reason you and Henry came back to me," she reminded him. He smiled at her and kissed her again.

"Come on, we should get home and get ready for the dinner party," he suggested. She nodded and hugged his arm, as they walked back to get their kids. Whatever the evening held for them, they knew they would do whatever necessary to keep their family safe.

[bananashemmo]

When We Collide (Part 15)

Pairing: Assistant!Y/N/CEO!Luke

Rating: NC-17

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Summary: He is the definition of high class smart ass, swimming in Dom Pierre Pérignon champagne and has never seen the shadow of poverty. She is underprivileged, lives in a messy dorm room on sale and struggles working as an assistant after being thrown out of college. But how will they collide when Luke makes Y/N pregnant after a drunkenly one night stand?

When We Collide on Wattpad

“What are you doing here?” The confusion was written on your face once you opened the door to your dorm. You hadn’t expected guests tonight, it was Friday and you were supposed to be alone. 

Luke looked down at his feet shy as if he had forgotten the reason why, he almost looked like he wanted to be in disguise by the way he was standing against the door frame. 

“You said I didn’t know you.” He mumbled and ran a hand through his hair.

“So I’m here to learn every single thing about you.” 

You looked at him stunned without a word to say, too many thoughts were racing around in your mind at once and you could almost feel your jaw touch the floor.

He looked unsure whether he should walk in or not, he did have a polite side and wouldn’t just burst in without permission. With the reaction you had it was hard to tell what was going on but he had expected it.

“Can I come in?” He casually asked and shrugged his shoulder like it was nothing, removing invisible dust from his blazer to make it seem like it wasn’t the first thing on his mind.

“Yeah-, uh… Of course.” You furrowed your eyebrows by your words and stepped back to let him inside.

Never had you believed in your life that Luke would show up at your dorm. Your place could come close to be where he would be most misplaced. 

He looked pretty confused and almost stumbled over the doorstep when walking inside, his eyes were looking everywhere at once you almost thought they would fall out from his face.

You closed the door quietly and scratched your arm not really knowing what to do. Suddenly you barely felt home and with his staring all around the room it was hard to find something to do meanwhile. 

“Anything you expected?” You managed to say and swung your arms back and forth to look occupied. 

“I uh…” He swallowed thickly not knowing what to say. You could tell he was holding everything in not to make an insult.

You could quickly throw him out of the door by one wrong word being said. 

“It’s small. That’s all.” He made a small nod in confirm after circling around 360 degrees until he finally settled on looking at you.

“Obviously.” You shrugged and watched him take off his blazer but he was already lost because there was not a place he could hang it. 

“I uh-, I usually hang my jackets on the chairs and such but we can just put it on my bed. It’s the only place that’s somehow pretty and clean.” You spoke and took his waiting jacket but his expression showed he was about to break.

“Y/N it’s real Italian Ermenegildo Zegna-,” He paused in track once he saw the glare you were giving him and he silently looked down at his fancy dress shoes.

“I’ll shut up.” 

“Thank you.” You mumbled and placed the blazer on top of your bed but as gentle as you possibly could. Unless he was afraid of germs or something you couldn’t understand why he was freaking out so much.

“You can take a seat over there.” You nodded your head towards the small garden table you had in the middle of the room with a pair of garden chairs to match. 

“I got them for free. Or more likely stole them but I see it as a generous gift from the blocks a few streets away from here.” You walked towards the kitchen that only contained two hotplates and no oven, a bad contained microwave on the old counter next to it. 

“You know I could have given you a house tour just like you did with me but as it seems…” You trailed off and looked around the room with him, “It seems as if you’ve seen everything.” 

“Yeah pretty much.” Luke nodded his head in agreement and took a seat down at one of the garden chairs. It was a luck it didn’t fall apart like last time you had taken a seat. 

It was a wonder what duct tape could do. 

Your dorm room was probably smaller than even his smallest coat closet there was no doubt. The way he was looking around showed many of his thoughts at once, just by his expressions.

Not that you had anything to brag about. Your dorm room was small walls with paint and wallpaper ready to fall off, a hole from when you had knocked down and ruined the only standing lamp you had plus the bathroom could barely be called a bathroom.

The only things you had in your room was your small kitchen, a single bed with a nightstand made out of a milk crate with a lamp that was also broken. Then the garden chairs and the table with a flower in a small vase you had found outside in the good weather. 

Your clothes were scattered in a mess, you had some on your bed, some under the sheets and some under the bed. You had a small closet but it was not that it could fit anything, you couldn’t even fit into it. 

Safe to say, Luke was more shocked than anything else.

“Can I offer you anything?” You questioned and opened the fridge. 

It wasn’t much to offer. You had milk, a glass of potatoes bought from the store yesterday and also a few carrots. Not enough to feed you for a day but it was the only thing you had for tonight. 

“I actually have some pearl mik tea now when I think about it.” You suddenly remembered and opened the only cupboard you had that contained a few glasses, mugs and as you mentioned, tea.

“Tea is nice.” He nodded his head in agreement, his eyebrows furrowing when he suddenly noticed the duct tape under his chair but he stayed quiet. 

“Good because it’s either that or water. Not that I see it as a problem.” You reached over to grab your pot and placed it on top of the stove after filling it up with water.

He nodded his head with a hum in agreement and watched you take out the small bag of tea. When seeing the brand his eyebrows furrowed but then he realized they were recognizable.

“Isn’t that the ones we have at the office?” His question made you freeze in mid-action and you widened your eyes.

“I uh-” You looked down at the paper bags with wide eyes, not really knowing how to save it or explain because it was 100% true.

“I can’t really afford tea so I sometimes take a few home from work. I know it’s stupid I can just return them to you if you want-,”

“Y/N, it’s tea.” He reminded with a small smile on his face by your nervous reaction.

“They cost me  $4.98 per bag.”

“Oh yes of course they cost nothing to you.” You mumbled and fiddled with the bags between your fingers.

“I just didn’t want you to think of me as a thief.”

“How did you get these garden chairs again?” He looked down at the chairs and gave you a serious expression. But when you could see he was about to crack a smile you sighed softly and shook your head by his teasing. 

“Let’s not get into that.” You mumbled and saw as the water boiled.

“Maybe we should. It’s a part of you so I guess it’s a start.” He suggested and you looked at him as if he was being serious. Of course he was. 

“Well if you’d like to know I stole them with my college friend Joe. He knew I was lacking on money and saw that a few chairs had been unused for a while. One night we decided to sneak out and see if we could get them, it worked out pretty easy. You see this scar?” 

You pointed at the one very close to your hairline and he looked closely, nodding his head in agreement.

“When we had to throw the chairs over the gate Joe accidentally hit me in the face. Makes me think of it every time I look in the mirror and gave me a permanent scar in the face.” 

“Oh god that must be horrible.” He commented and almost imagined what it would look on him. He most probably would have used some kind of surgery to get it away. 

“Indeed.” You nodded your head in agreement and placed the two mugs on the table after preparing the tea. It wasn’t much you paid attention to it anymore it was simply just there. 

He thanked politely and took the tea in his hands aware that it was hot. You couldn’t serve much but you did in fact serve the hottest tea possible. You almost had to blow wind to make sure you wouldn’t burn your tongue. 

“So… Why don’t you just start from the beginning?” He encouraged and leaned back in his chair.

“From where? My birth?” You asked and took a sip of your tea.

“From where you feel like it.” He shrugged and had a taste of it. He loved it, it was the reason why every office in his building had it to serve and drink. 

“Well I’m from Maine, my parents live there and so does my four brothers. Last one in the pile, not sure if you know of that.” 

“I have two myself. Last in the pile.” He explained and you suddenly felt a better relation to him. Except for the fact that he was a boy and not under the circumstances of being the weak little sister. 

“You can kind of say I was the great wish of a daughter. My mom was ready to give me all the attention she could because now she wasn’t the only female in the house. But it seems as I wasn’t as wished as they had wanted to considering we barely talk anymore.” 

You looked down at your mug where the steam was coming up, all hot and bothered. 

“Even though I grew up in such a big household I still felt very alone. Like they all had some kind of relationship I couldn’t get into no matter how many times I tried. It made me rebellious. I didn’t want to obey what they had to say but they still tried their best to get me towards the right direction. So after I barely graduated high school they sent me to college.”

A glance around the room took you back to the memory where you had moved in for the first time. You couldn’t believe it. No human could live under conditions like these.

“It was somehow like they wanted me to disappear. That they were so ashamed by the lack of same interests we had, that I wasn’t good enough for them and that I could never achieve as much as my brothers did. Their success in life would always be the pain in my ass.” 

Luke nodded his head in understanding and sipped on his tea. You weren’t sure if he was actually listening. The expression on his face was hard to tell but you still continued now that you had started. 

“At first I lived at one of the dorms they had at campus. You know, the ones where you have a roommate, shares community showers with others of your same gender and have play fights in the hallways against the students. It was a nice time. But it only lasted for a year or so.”

“What happened?” He asked, showing his interest to your otherwise suspicious thoughts. 

“I couldn’t pay for the next semester and I had troubles paying for my books. I needed to pick out something, it would either be to continue to study but move out of my dorm or that I had to quit college completely. I didn’t know what to do but the counselor at college said moving out would be the best because I needed to finish now that I had started.” 

You sighed softly, “And that is how I ended up in here.” 

“But this isn’t a part of campus, is it?” He questioned and leaned back in his chair.

“No this is outside, campus is three streets away from here. They weren’t able to give me a single dorm room to stay at and since I couldn’t pay for anything the counselor found this. It was cheap, it’s for young and poor that lives here for as long as they can with the lack of money they have.” 

Luke widened his eyes and looked around as well. He couldn’t believe this, if he had to live like this he would have protested until the end of the world. 

“I know this is nothing like you would have wanted but I take what I can get. It meant I was still able to study at classes and meet up when required and needed.”

“You say it in past tense?” He observed and you looked down at your lap nervously and also a little bit embarrassed.

“Yes… That’s because I recently got kicked out of college.”

“You got kicked out of college?” Luke’s expression was enough to spoil that he had absolutely no clue, but when you also thought about it you had never actually admitted it to him. 

“Yes… I couldn’t meet up for my classes, I barely studied because I didn’t have the time for it and to be honest I just didn’t want to. Safe to say I was glad being kicked out but it also left me in so many problems. My dorm room is currently on sale in case you didn’t notice the sign outside. If I don’t pay for next month I’ll get kicked out properly while the owner searches for someone else to take over.”

You took a sip of your tea after talking and were quiet for a moment.

“But who wants this place anyways? It’s only because I live under such horrible conditions I get the chance to stay for a while. Hopefully he won’t find a new student for a while I mean New York has gotten much better options than these dorm rooms.” 

“Well yeah that’s a very good question.” He answered like you weren’t asking hypothetically and shrugged his shoulder casually. 

“I wouldn’t of course.” 

You rolled your eyes by his answer but smiled anyways. He was a good listener, you were surprised. It wasn’t something he showed much when you were at the office but this was something different. 

“At college I met Nicole and Joe. The ones you met at the bar and the girl that also works at the restaurant we have at work. Nicole was my dorm roommate, we worked it out pretty easily and she’s my best friend now. Joe is also her childhood friend, they’ve known each other since kindergarten and has pretty much gone through everything together. Middle school, high school, college, you name it. Sometimes I feel a little bit like the third wheel but we’ve grown closer as a threesome and it’s nice.” 

“Penelope?” He questioned just to be sure and instead of correcting him you just rolled your eyes and nodded. 

“They seemed like great friends. They definitely know how to drink.” He nodded his head after thinking back to the night, it wasn’t just you he had talked to. He had also spent some time with Joe. 

“They really are. They were the only reason I stayed at college, I think. Trying to motivate me some more.” You nodded along with him and drank the last bit of your tea. 

“You want some more?” You questioned and he nodded his head in agreement. 

“I’d love to.”

Smiling softly you stood up from your chair and grabbed the pot with half-filled water, it wasn’t completely warm but it was enough to please Luke. You did after all know what kind of temperature he preferred in both his coffee and tea. 

“Basic facts?” He questioned interested and thank you when you returned a filled mug. 

“Hit me.” You replied and sat back on your chair. 

“Cats or dogs?” 

“Cats. I have one back home that’s called Poodle.” You were quick to answer and in reaction he looked like someone who was disagreeing. 

“I have a dog back home…” He explained and you nodded your head in understanding. 

“Blue or green?” 

“Blue. It fits with everything, it’s one of the three main colors and it’s always involved in something beautiful.”

“Wine or beer?”

“Beer. It’s cheaper, it’s easier to drink and you don’t get as heavy hungover as you would get with wine.” Again, he was grimacing by your expression but it was a part of showing your differences. You knew you barely had anything in common and it was nice to find out. 

“Shower in the morning or shower in the evening?”

“Shower in the mornings. I’m not a morning person so I always seem to get in the right mood once I get cold water in my face. It makes the tiredness go away.” You looked over at the small bathroom by the mention, you had actually skipped the cold shower today but it wasn’t that obvious in your bun. 

“Edward or Jakob?”

“Is Twilight barely a thing anymore?” You almost laughed and shook your head in disbelief. 

“My apologizes,” He raised his hands in surrender and smiled, “Let me change it into something better. Stefan or Damon?” 

“Damon!” 

“No way.” He quickly answer back, “It will always be Stefan!” 

You giggled by his words and fiddled with the cup between your fingers. You had been discussing this so many times with Nicole you knew once you would start the argument there was no point of return. 

Silence fell upon the room and you sighed softly. It wasn’t as weird as before but you were still feeling a bit tense that he was there. But opening up to him suddenly made things a little bit easier. 

“What’s with the dress?” 

You looked over your shoulder by his sudden question, at first you were confused but when you realized what he was talking about you hesitated. 

“It’s uh-,” You trailed off not really knowing what to say because he could clearly understand something was up with it.

It was your only thing in your closet that wasn’t folded together in a messy pile, it had a hanger and it was hanging on the door to your bathroom. It was dark purple and tight, cut to above the knees, but not so revealing that everyone could see what was going on here and there.

You had been trying to make sure it wouldn’t wrinkle in the ends as it had long sleeves and not enough patterns to not make it obvious. You didn’t own an iron for clothes so you had done it old fashioned way with old books you still hadn’t retuned back to the college library. 

“It’s because Joe has set me up for a date next week and I want to look nice. At least while I still can.” You stood up from your chair to stand in front of it, having a look.

“You’re going on a date?” Luke almost asked in disbelief, not that he was sounding offended or anything but he was having a serious expression on his face. 

“Yeah… His friend Tim really wanted to go out on a date and he’s been asking me for a while but I’ve always rejected. You somehow feel once you get to the 15th ask you can’t really say no.” 

“Yes you can.” He disagreed but he looked a bit ashamed that he let the words slip out so fast. 

“I’m not as coldhearted as you.” You reminded and looked up at the dress. You had spent a month of savings to get it.

“I’m not coldhearted I just don’t like to do stuff I don’t like.” He replied and pushed his chair back to walk towards you to get a better look of the dress.

“I’m just very sympathetic and I don’t have the heart to say no anymore. Maybe he figures out I’m not as wonderful as he would think and will leave me alone afterwards. But he is a good friend so it would be a shame.” 

“I think it sounds a little weird. Guy gotta take a hint.” Luke replied and grabbed the dress just to get a feel of the fabric. 

“Have you tried it?” 

The dress?” You questioned a little bit too caught up on your mind and he shook his head in disagreement. 

“No I mean me.”

“You’re an ass.” You sighed and rolled your eyes.

He nodded his head in agreement with a secret smile on his face and leaned up to take the dress. It was easy with his tall frame and he walked with you towards the only mirror you had in the room. 

It was large and nice, it was your favorite furniture in the whole dorm. 

“I haven’t tried it, I’m too afraid that I will ruin it.”

“You won’t,” He encouraged you and returned it, “Go try it on.” 

You looked up at him unsure of his suggestion but in the end decided to give in. You could just blame him if you ended up ruining it and he would most probably pay for something even better. 

“I’ll be right back then.” 

He nodded his head happy that he got his will, not that it was anything new. You always felt you had to obey to his requests whether you were at the office or even at your own dorm.

He placed his hands in the pockets of his fancy pants and took a look around your dorm while he was alone.

Never in his life had he experienced anything like this. Even the part at his mansion where he kept his dumpsters was a much prettier and bigger place than this dorm.

He had suddenly gained a whole new respect for you. 

He moved over to take a look at the only lamp you had in your room besides the fairy lights hanging above your mirror. It was old and dusty, it couldn’t even compare to the color beige anymore and Luke, the curious guy he was, decided to touch it.

In one fast movement he had managed to break something. He had barely gotten the time to react or see what he had done wrong but suddenly the only source of lights you had was the ones hanging above the mirror. 

“I did not do this.” He mumbled with wide eyes and placed a $100 bill from his pocket right next to the broken lamp and turned around just in time for you to come out.

You were feeling a little bit shy. The dress didn’t feel as tight as last time you had tried it and because of Luke’s sometimes mean opinions it was hard to predict what he had to say. 

“Let me guess… H&M can’t make pretty dresses either?” You questioned and walked up to the mirror to take a look.

He didn’t say anything but his lips were parted and it was obvious he was staring. You looked into the mirror curious to what was going on, he had never been this quiet and when you saw how the dress was fitting you understood. 

“Luke I swear to fucking god if you’re offensively staring at my ass again I’m gonna-,”

“You’re showing.” 

You froze completely by his words when he interrupted you, it wasn’t what you expected and your jaw fell once you looked into the mirror. 

“What?” 

“The belly… It’s showing… You’re showing.” He almost dropped the mug in his hand and was quick to place it on the table next to him before he hurried to stand in front of you. 

You looked into the mirror and your eyes widened even more than before. Your hand came down to your stomach where a smaller part was bloated, you had bought it was only because you had been eating too many chips but it wasn’t. 

“I hadn’t noticed.” Your voice was in a mix of being very quiet but also very surprised, it was nothing like you had expected. 

You both looked into the mirror taking a look almost as if it wasn’t real. You shared one quick glance before he decided to kneel down in front of you, looking at you for approval before he did anything. 

“I saw it right away.” He mumbled and ran a hand over your belly once you gave him a short nod. 

You looked into the mirror and watched his face expression. By standing with your side facing the reflection you were able to see all the emotions he had in his face at once. 

They said more than he had ever confessed in his life. 

“It’s very beautiful.” He commented and you lifted your eyebrows unsure what he was talking about. 

“The dress.” He admitted and ran his hand over your belly one last time, a warm smile breaking to your face.

“It looks good on you.” 

[onslaughtsix]

So here’s the bit, right?

When I started writing music (literally a decade ago) the idea was to form a band with my long-distance best friend onslaught86 (the names are only sort of a coincidence; our real life first names being the same is definitely one). The idea was that he would learn to sing and do most of the lyrics and I would learn to play guitar and do backups. So I learned how to play guitar and he...didn’t do shit.

Alright, that’s a lie and makes it seem like I’m bitter about it. He did write, a lot. Because that’s what we used to do, is write together! Initially we just wrote Transformers fanfiction. That’s where we got the idea; the world’s first Internet band (recording all our shit online and passing them through the etherwebs) which focused almost entirely on Transformers songs. 

Because that would sell. (This was in like, 2005? 2006? We did not yet have the live action Transformers films.) 

Let’s fast forward a little. I’m getting there. I’m playing guitar (although not well) and with the help of Fruity Loops, I am composing music for the first time. I have equipment available to me from my father and can do vocals (as bad as my singing is). 86 doesn’t do this but sometimes he sends me lyrics because I can’t write for shit. My earliest songs show this, although literally some of those lyrics survived onto the album i released in 2014 (which I still, sadly, consider the true pinnacle of the Onslaught Six musical project). 

Faced with the coming realization and dilemma that 86 may never learn to sing and record vocals, I now realize I may be the lead singer of my own one-man band. I am not great at articulating what feelings I may have, if any, that are not raw anger and hatred. 86′s lyrics, when they aren’t obtuse bullshit that sounds great (a skill I slowly picked up over the next few years), are deeply personal and obtusely fucked up shit that I cannot possibly sing--because I don’t feel it.

I tried at different points to write what I called “sensitive” material. “Emotional” material may be a better descriptor. Whatever. I can’t sing about my feelings. Writing about them makes me self conscious. I can’t get past that barrier, can’t do the Trent Reznor “open my journal and make it into lyrics.” Covering a few early NIN songs only proved that I was ill suited to singing about that. I learned over time it was usually better to spit out fast shit about robots killing each other, or people killing each other, or people killing robots, or whatever. I reached some pretty good shit with that and any times I did venture out, I was careful to keep it in an angry wheelhouse.

In 2009 I got with Randi, who was futilely attempting to write bad Amanda Palmer piano punk songs that she recorded with a webcam microphone and put on Myspace. If that sounds fucking embarassing, it is. (I still think there was a good song or two in there, and maybe one day I’ll dig through the hard drives to find one and embarass her.) Shortly after we started dating she even wrote a song about her experiences sleeping at my house, and wasn’t afraid to record it and show it to me.

This was my emotional ticket out.

We tried in 2010 to do a cover song to demo out what we thought a potential band of ours would sound like. I played bass (I could not play bass) and she played piano and sang, and we tried futilely to cover Sisters of Mercy’s Floorshow. This went horribly, and we didn’t really try anything for years afterwards. Of note, Sisters of Mercy became a major influence on our band.

In January of 2013, Reapers is born, thrashing and screaming on a dying laptop with the help of an out of tune Korg Poly 800 and way too much Mass Effect 2. We made something without thinking about genre definitions, boundaries, playing it live, or anything of the sort. After it was finished, we basically decided “Is this synthwave? I guess this is synthwave.” We named the band after the song (and because the Bandcamp username was available). We spent some time writing more songs and eventually released an EP and album, Turbine.

Turbine is not really a coherent release--it’s some old songs from the EP and some new shit to make a good sounding record but it has no central concepts, beyond some general theming. I wanted to alleviate that with our next album that took 2 years to come out, Visions of Mercury. 

In VoM (the worst acronym ever) I started writing by myself, at night, driving home from my job at 6:30am. I was apart from Randi for the nights (I still am but she drives me now--long story) and was starting to feel the distance. And for the first time, I wrote about it.

Because I wouldn’t be singing about it?

Randi had no problem being emotional about herself. Our arguably most successful song is about how sad she was when Tony Soprano killed Big Pussy on The Sopranos. There are at least 3 songs on the last album about her drug-addled father’s possible suicide that she feels partly responsible for. She is my emotional ticket out for writing. If it’s for Reapers, I can write it, because I have some coherent metaphors that I can lean on and make it sort of about something else that isn’t directly me, and I don’t have to perform it and feel self conscious about it. Like, what the fuck are my feelings so important for that I have to write about them? But if she’s singing it then I’m just furthering the band. It’s fine!

Visions of Mercury’s central metaphor is that the space in, uh, outer space is a metaphor for the space between people--emotionally and physically. The title track started when I sang it into my phone while driving home. (It was more like a Cure song then. I was listening to Disintegration a lot, okay?) I was alone and spending nights away and all I really wanted to do was quit and stay at home, but that isn’t viable in this economy so fuck it, you do what you gotta do. And that lead into the Mass Effect connections and metaphors--in every ME game, the last mission (usually called “the point of no return” by players, since it is the last point in the game you can do sidequests/upgrades/etc. before the climactic moments) you get to have sex with your chosen waifu or husbando that you’ve been romancing the entire game (or multiple games!) because, presumably, they could all die in the final mission so they want to get their shit over with. (In ME2 you can actually get over half your crew members killed permanently in the final mission because you made a mistake.) 

So I’ve been leaning into that now. The new album is even more apocalyptic and finite than the last--so far our top choice for a title is REVELATIONS, after one of the tracks, about the biblical end of the world. One of the songs we just completed has the lines, “I’ve seen far too goddamn many people die/I’ve come far too far to give up this fight,” which pretty much sums up Shep in ME. We’re leaning into that, and leaning into the emotional stuff too--another song is a huge synthy guitar skullfucker that has Randi screaming “Just let me stay in here” as if her life depends on it. 

I’m not sure what the point of writing this was, but I guess my thing is, I think it’s fucking weird that I can’t write emotionally about myself unless I’m going to have someone else sing about it. Is that weird? Or is this a problem only I have because of the extremely specific circumstances?

[5hfanfiction]

Where My Heart Takes Me

CHAPTER 2

The travel to Scotland took five days. With the memories of that horrible night slowly moving to the back of her mind, Camila went back to her usual childish, carefree ways. Being confined within the four corners of the carriage gave her immeasurable boredom so she did whatever she could to entertain herself. She counted the trees they passed by, pointed ridiculous images she saw some clouds form, and when it drizzled a bit, she even counted the raindrops. She tried talking to Lauren but it seemed the longest conversation they had was during the first day when she asked information about her. She was more than willing to make conversation enough for the both of them because she can. God knows how it irritated her mother, but delighted the bejesus out of her whenever she’d display her great talent in nonstop talking. But whenever she’d start it’d get obvious Lauren didn’t want to listen so she stopped trying.

By the fifth day, she’d ran out of creative ways to occupy her time, she’d resorted to counting wishes. She wishes she’s brought her favorite books with her. Wish she was wearing her favorite banana-shaped slippers. Wish she told Shawn her plans. Wish she gave her father a kiss on the cheek on her last night at home. Wish she rumpled Sofi’s hair before they separated to get ready for her last ball. After a few of those she found out it was getting her feel sad so she opened her mouth to ask Lauren the one question that’s been nagging on her, ‘Why are leaves green when they���re fresh and brown when they’re not. Not the other way around?’ It’s one question she thinks she’ll know the answer to if only she was sent to a regular school but the cursed society rules only allowed men to do that so she’s still left on the gray. One look at Lauren’s furrowed brows though and she went back to counting the cracks on the wooden carriage.

So by the time the vehicle stops infront of a two-storey granite house, a giggly young brown-haired girl running out of it and kissing Lauren when they get out, she knows they’ve arrived at the home of the woman beside her and she can’t help but feel glad.

The house is just a tenth of the size of their manor, not enough space to lurk around without being seen. There’s a small area in front where a few kinds of flowers were planted, not like their garden where she can basically fit the house in and showcases all sorts of plants their gardener can find. From where she’s standing, she can see there’s a backyard that can shelter only a dozen horses, at the most. It’s so different from what she’s used to. And very small. But it’s perfect.

“This is Camila,” she hears Lauren tell the young girl, who she surmises is her sister.

“This is Taylor, my sister,” Lauren confirms.

“It’s my pleasure to meet you.” She reaches out her right hand to shake with the other brunette. From years of training how to be a proper lady and be polite, she’s developed the habit of being courteous to the people she meets. But to the younger girl, courtesy came easily because she feels a certain fondness over her at first sight.

Lauren leads her inside the house. As they entered the door, a young attractive man around her age of seventeen is coming down the stairs.

He heads over to them and gives Lauren a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Chris this is Camila, Camila this is Chris.” The raven-haired introduces them.

Before Camila can start with the pleasantries, Chris is already holding her hand in a firm shake, looking her in the eye. “Lauren, I didn’t know you were getting me a wife on your trip. You made the perfect choice.”

That makes the side of Camila’s lips curve up into a tiny smile. She often gets annoyed with other men hitting on her but there’s this playful quality in the way he said it that she finds amusing.

“Oh, shut up. Keep your flirting to the girls at the pubs. Camila will be working for us. She’ll be living with us,” Lauren chastises him.

“Even better. Camila, if ever you need help just call me.”

Lauren only scowls.

Camila cannot help the chuckle that comes out of her at that. She really likes him. 'Your sister saw me first though,’ she jokes in her mind.

Lauren shows her the room she’s going to occupy before having dinner with Chris and Taylor. On the table, she waits for any mention of their parents, an explanation why there are only Lauren and her siblings but they don’t offer any so she doesn’t ask. She can handle not knowing. Besides, she has no reason to complain, does she? The food may not be as delicious as the ones they serve at their manor but this time she’s not eating alone. It’s definitely so much better than that.

_____

Lauren doesn’t know what to do with Camila. The brunette has been in her care for ten days. Five days they spent travelling, five days at her home. On the carriage ride, she had seemed easy enough to handle. Aside from the constant restlessness, the girl is a walking ball of high energy Lauren has trouble keeping up with, she seemed to always have this need to get the restlessness out of her system by either talking, thumping her foot loudly or moving from one end of her seat to the other but she didn’t cause much trouble. Yes, it sort of annoyed Lauren but nothing she can’t get out of her mind quickly. Besides, she’s quite entertaining once you get used to her. But right now, Lauren’s just bewildered.

On the first morning back at her house, Camila tried to prepare breakfast for them. It’s nothing complicated, just the usual sunny side up, but Lauren had Taylor telling her how the new lady burned four and left the other two raw. From that, she surmised Camila can’t cook so she let Taylor and Chris do it and herself whenever time permits.

The next day, Lauren asked her to get some fresh eggs in their backyard. She has a dozen chickens she keeps to get free food from every once in a while and she chose that day was one of it. She thought it should be simple. Walk out the back, head to the henhouse, get the eggs, and then go back inside. What could be the problem? But after just a minute or so, Camila was running back to her, tears in her eyes, looking as scared as anyone could, telling her the chickens tried to bite her. So she assumed caring for her hens is also out of the question.

Then just a day ago, she told Camila to get fresh milk from one of her two cows. Lauren has showed her how to do it on the day after she found out Camila can’t cook and she looked equipped enough to do it. But Lauren was very wrong. Camila came back with a chipped empty jar and a soaking dress, telling her she’s sorry.

So now Lauren is running out of choices. She can always make Camila clean the house, but she already has someone taking care of that for them. It will make her feel awful if she lets that person go just to give the job to Camila. And she can’t keep the brunette doing nothing. Although Lauren’s not wealthy, she’s not struggling either. She can take in another or two more mouths to feed. But seeing the way Camila gets restless if she’s left with nothing to do, Lauren’s afraid she’s going to do something reckless. Like burn the house down or anything close to that, in an innocent pursuit to be of any help to them.

So now she’s on the outside of the brown-eyed girl’s room, knocking.

Camila opens up after a few knocks.

“Lauren.”

“I-I just came to tell you something.” The green-eyed woman stutters at the beginning of her sentence. Camila is wearing a very thin camisole, the light from the lamp on her bedside table at her back illuminating her. Lauren is still doubtful she’s really the daughter of an earl, something almost like a princess, but in that moment she felt herself almost believing. Add the clumsiness, the lack of knowledge in domestic chores to this incredible beauty, she’s so close to changing her mind.

Lauren shakes her head internally. She has to believe only what’s practical and more likely, so she pushes the thought at the back of her mind.

“Alright, you may come in,” Camila tells her.

She hesitates, debating for a second and decides to stay where she’s standing. “I won’t be long. I just wanted to tell you to get ready early tomorrow. Six in the morn. We have somewhere to go to.”

“Oh, okay. Is that all?”

“Y-yeah. That’s all. Good night.” Lauren brings an abrupt end to their conversation.

“Good night, Lauren.”

_____

Meanwhile, in the Cabello Manor, Sinu and Alejandro are having a heated argument.

“Find Karla, Alejandro.” Sinu demands from her husband who is sitting behind his desk in his study room. He is on the process of checking their family’s finances when his wife came barging in, looking worried and stressed out.

“I am trying my best, Sinu.” He explains.

His wife paces around infront of him. “It’s been almost two weeks! What kind of people did you get to look for her?”

“I’ve already hired all private investigators I can find.”

Sinu swipes her hand in her forehead in a sign of distress.

Alejandro is worried. For her eldest daughter whom he doesn’t know the current situation of right now and if she’s somewhere safe and comfortable. And the way his wife is handling their present circumstances is getting to him.

It would have been another cause for him to worry had he not known the real cause of his wife’s current state.

“Austin’s been waiting for her two weeks. I’ve already delayed it as much as I can. If he finds out our daughter is a runaway, I don’t think he’ll carry on with asking for her hand in marriage anymore.”

Alejandro sighs internally, stands up and walks over to his wife. Sinu loves Camila. He knows that. She loves their children the way any mother should. She just has a different way of showing it. It might have been the main reason their eldest ran away in the first place, but it is all because of love in the part of his wife.

“Karla can’t get any future brighter than what she’d have if she were to marry Austin. She’ll be well taken care of, pampered if she were to become a duchess.” Sinu explains.

Alejandro hugs her.

“I know, I know,” he says, trying to console her. “But for now let’s focus on getting our daughter back, shall we?”

His wife relaxes a little at his gentle tone. A few seconds later she mutters, “Yes. But hurry up. Austin might not be willing to wait very long.”

*** A/N: I’m late for the update, I know. Sorry… My mind’s too busy to focus.

As always thank you for reading and giving me your feedback. I like knowing what you think with my story. xx It’s also on wattpad: litaddict02

[booksbroadwaybbc]

Why the world needs you via /r/selfimprovement

Why the world needs you

"But I am just a nobody..."

How many times have you had those thoughts?

The thoughts that come in right after you have had an audacious goal, an incredible dream, or a world-changing idea that sounds almost too crazy and insane when uttered out loud...

How many times have you stopped yourself from going after what you want, because your fear and doubt tells you that you don't stand a chance?

As an extremely private person by nature, I never had much of an urge to share my stories or experiences.

And until very recently, I didn't think I was ever going to share this story publicly.

But in a world where people are becoming increasingly apathetic to suffering, I feel compelled to share my story, in the hopes that it will inspire you to find the hero within yourself.

I believe that every single one of us, should we choose to, can invoke a powerful spirit within us to transform our lives and help make the world a better place.

So here we go...

Over 4 years ago, while I was traveling in the Netherlands, I met a girl. She was 22 and I was 25.

She was unlike anyone else I had ever met. She had strange, peculiar interests in seemingly-polarizing things.

On one hand, she was deeply fascinated with the occult, she possessed objects like the skulls of animals, a model replica of a human skull, and many other odd symbols of darkness.

On the other hand, she had a strong love for symbols of innocence, such as collecting stuffed toys (rather seriously) and wearing onesies. The many books that she had indicated she loved art, and that she had a very acute visual sense.

She was very gentle and often displayed deep compassion for those who had been marginalized by society.

It soon became clear to me that despite being 3 years younger than me, this girl possessed a deep wisdom about life that I could not yet understand.

Even though she was quiet, reserved, and extremely guarded with her feelings, I was immediately captivated by her mysterious sense of self-expression...

She bluntly rejected me multiple times after I told her I was interested in her romantically.

She listed out all the practical reasons why she wouldn't date me. I was a foreigner (she didn't want any long-distance relationships), I was a regular pot smoker, and I was too much of a "cool guy" (as I would later find out, what she really meant was that I acted too much like a stereotypical douchebag).

It was quite painful the way she rejected me, but still, I wanted to continue seeing her.

So a platonic friendship ensued.

It wasn't long before I noticed the self-inflicted scars on the inside of her arms.

When I did, I held her arm out, ran my fingers over her scars and simply asked, "Why?"

She yanked her arm away and looked away quickly, sharply stating, "I was diagnosed with PTSD."

Sensing her reluctance to reveal anymore, I didn't probe any further.

We continued to meet. Our relationship progressed... We got closer.

One evening, after hours of talking, we slept together.

She continued noting her reluctance to be with me... But she never stopped meeting me.

Pretty soon, I was spending every single day with her in her tiny one bedroom apartment. I extended my stay in the Netherlands to 3 months and for the last 2 months, I stayed at her place.

One day, during a seemingly innocuous conversation, we started talking about the future...

As she started talking about her future, I noticed a deep anxiety setting in...

She started talking about the obstacles in her way and her anxiety started to get even worse. Tears started to form in her eyes as she curled into a ball and hugged herself.

Not knowing what to do, I tried to convince her that her fears were unfounded, but that did nothing.

The expression on her face started to turn into a look of sheer despair. Her eyes gazed past me into the distance as she started crying, her nails digging deep into the side of her arms. She had become so entrenched in a state of absolute fear that nothing I said or did would even get acknowledged.

Desperate to ease her pain but clueless on what to do, I hugged her close and held her tight, repeatedly whispering to her, "It's going to be okay..."

Never had I felt so utterly helpless in my life.

In what felt like years, minutes passed...

She starts getting calmer, and she eventually apologized for "freaking out".

I would later discover pieces of her dark history.

She was originally born in Poland. When she was 3, she was left under the care of her grandfather.

Instead of caring for her and protecting her like he had promised, he sexually abused her for months in secret. He told her that if she told anyone, they would think that it was her fault and hate her for it. Ashamed and afraid, her 3-year-old mind suppressed the memory... Her once bright and exciting world turned dark and frightening.

Her parents divorced several years later, and she was left to live with her father and her sister in Poland.

As her father struggles to cope with the stress of the divorce, he started losing control over himself in fits of rage and would viciously beat her sister. She recounted an incident where she became so afraid he was going to kill her sister that she stepped in to defend her sister during a beating. Fortunately, that act of courage snapped him out of his rage and made him stop. She was 10 at the time.

She eventually leaves with her sister to go live with her mother in the Netherlands.

As the small, strange, foreign and quiet girl who barely speaks the local language, she quickly became an easy target for bullying. School was a nightmare. They threw food at her, called her names, and played pranks on her on a daily basis.

One day, as she was walking home from school, two girls whom she never met pushed her down an escalator and started beating her up. When they eventually left, she picked herself up and went home.

But that incident had made her terrified of going out, and she fell into a state of deep depression. Eventually, she decided that she finally had enough... and attempted to kill herself by slitting her own wrist.

Her attempt failed and her mother admitted her into a mental hospital for rehabilitation.

She was 16. It was during this time in the mental ward where she finally experienced some reprieve. With the help of a psychologist, now 13 years later, memories of her childhood abuse resurfaced and she was finally able to start healing from that wound.

She was also diagnosed as a high-functioning autistic, which helped her understand why she behaved so differently from others. A year later, the mental hospital was forced to release her due to financial constraints.

Not wanting to return home, she got a small job in conjunction with a student loan and rented a tiny room in a shared apartment.

Shortly after, she befriended a man. He was sweet to her at first and they eventually started dating. He took advantage of her vulnerability and gained her trust. But slowly, as their relationship progressed, he became more and more abusive. What started off as emotional manipulation became full-on beatings. He put out cigarettes on her, violated her, and even threatened to stab her while holding a knife.

She would eventually break free from his manipulative grip, but not after suffering emotional and physical scars.

Upon learning of her difficult past, I experienced a powerful mix of grief, anger, and admiration...

As our relationship deepened, I wanted nothing more than to help her see a brighter future. If I could give her hope, that would mean more to me than anything else I had ever done in my life.

The first thing I did was move to the Netherlands to be with her. The process wasn't easy, but I managed to do it in 3 months. We have lived together ever since.

She had always wanted to visit Japan, Disneyland, and a whole bunch of other places, but never had the chance due to her financial circumstances.

At the time when I met her, I was a struggling digital marketer who had just dropped out of college in pursuit of the "internet lifestyle". My income fluctuated tremendously, some months I made a few thousand, some months I made nothing. It was nothing to brag about and definitely not enough to travel and live indiscriminately. So if you have ever been led to believe that particular endeavor is easy... Trust me, it is not.

But, the one thing that it does give you is the freedom and ability to decide just how far you want to take things.

And now I had a powerful reason beyond myself to do whatever is necessary to create a thriving business.

It took a little over a year before things started to take off...

We moved out of our crappy apartment, went to Disneyland in Paris, stayed in Japan for 1 month, and went out on many other adventures.

She had always been fascinated with Chow Chows (a rare dog breed) but she was afraid of dogs because of a biting incident when she was a child.

So together, we tracked the breed down... It took about 18 months and living in Poland for 1 month before we were finally able to get the puppy... But we eventually did and he's part of our little family now.

Slowly but surely, I witnessed how the powerful light of hope transformed her outlook on life... The bouts of despair occurred significantly less frequently... She had less anxiety and she started engaging her interests more actively...

Now, I definitely do not dare claim responsibility for any of that. She was the one who had to go through the fight. And I have not always been supportive... I have made many horrible mistakes, hurt her both intentionally and unintentionally... But having been able to take part in her healing process has meant more to me than anything else.

There's a lot more that I wanted to share, such as how my rage almost destroyed everything and how I met a true warrior who transformed my perspective, but I think this story has gone on for too long...

My point is this...

In a world of ever-increasing apathy, there has never been a time more critical than now that we look inwards upon ourselves to find powerful reasons to do what is right in this world... For there are far too many monsters out there who are looking to exploit the vulnerable.

One of my favorite quotes is from a man named Edmund Burke, who once famously stated, "All it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing."

You may not be able to think of yourself as a hero in the grand sense. But everyone has the capacity to be the hero in their own story... For it is not only through a journey of service that we will create a better world, but its also where we will find meaning and transform ourselves into happier, stronger, and more fulfilled individuals.

Shift your focus to those who need you. Be willing to bear the burden of their suffering, so that you may look past your own insecurities in service of a greater good.

When I say the world needs you, I am being sincere and truthful. The world truly does need you.

Submitted October 14, 2018 at 08:58AM by th_danche via reddit https://ift.tt/2IVHcOA

[readbookywooks]

One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin. He lay on his armour-like back, and if he lifted his head a little he could see his brown belly, slightly domed and divided by arches into stiff sections. The bedding was hardly able to cover it and seemed ready to slide off any moment. His many legs, pitifully thin compared with the size of the rest of him, waved about helplessly as he looked.

"What's happened to me?" he thought. It wasn't a dream. His room, a proper human room although a little too small, lay peacefully between its four familiar walls. A collection of textile samples lay spread out on the table - Samsa was a travelling salesman - and above it there hung a picture that he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and housed in a nice, gilded frame. It showed a lady fitted out with a fur hat and fur boa who sat upright, raising a heavy fur muff that covered the whole of her lower arm towards the viewer.

Gregor then turned to look out the window at the dull weather. Drops of rain could be heard hitting the pane, which made him feel quite sad. "How about if I sleep a little bit longer and forget all this nonsense", he thought, but that was something he was unable to do because he was used to sleeping on his right, and in his present state couldn't get into that position. However hard he threw himself onto his right, he always rolled back to where he was. He must have tried it a hundred times, shut his eyes so that he wouldn't have to look at the floundering legs, and only stopped when he began to feel a mild, dull pain there that he had never felt before.

"Oh, God", he thought, "what a strenuous career it is that I've chosen! Travelling day in and day out. Doing business like this takes much more effort than doing your own business at home, and on top of that there's the curse of travelling, worries about making train connections, bad and irregular food, contact with different people all the time so that you can never get to know anyone or become friendly with them. It can all go to Hell!" He felt a slight itch up on his belly; pushed himself slowly up on his back towards the headboard so that he could lift his head better; found where the itch was, and saw that it was covered with lots of little white spots which he didn't know what to make of; and when he tried to feel the place with one of his legs he drew it quickly back because as soon as he touched it he was overcome by a cold shudder.

He slid back into his former position. "Getting up early all the time", he thought, "it makes you stupid. You've got to get enough sleep. Other travelling salesmen live a life of luxury. For instance, whenever I go back to the guest house during the morning to copy out the contract, these gentlemen are always still sitting there eating their breakfasts. I ought to just try that with my boss; I'd get kicked out on the spot. But who knows, maybe that would be the best thing for me. If I didn't have my parents to think about I'd have given in my notice a long time ago, I'd have gone up to the boss and told him just what I think, tell him everything I would, let him know just what I feel. He'd fall right off his desk! And it's a funny sort of business to be sitting up there at your desk, talking down at your subordinates from up there, especially when you have to go right up close because the boss is hard of hearing. Well, there's still some hope; once I've got the money together to pay off my parents' debt to him - another five or six years I suppose - that's definitely what I'll do. That's when I'll make the big change. First of all though, I've got to get up, my train leaves at five."

And he looked over at the alarm clock, ticking on the chest of drawers. "God in Heaven!" he thought. It was half past six and the hands were quietly moving forwards, it was even later than half past, more like quarter to seven. Had the alarm clock not rung? He could see from the bed that it had been set for four o'clock as it should have been; it certainly must have rung. Yes, but was it possible to quietly sleep through that furniture-rattling noise? True, he had not slept peacefully, but probably all the more deeply because of that. What should he do now? The next train went at seven; if he were to catch that he would have to rush like mad and the collection of samples was still not packed, and he did not at all feel particularly fresh and lively. And even if he did catch the train he would not avoid his boss's anger as the office assistant would have been there to see the five o'clock train go, he would have put in his report about Gregor's not being there a long time ago. The office assistant was the boss's man, spineless, and with no understanding. What about if he reported sick? But that would be extremely strained and suspicious as in fifteen years of service Gregor had never once yet been ill. His boss would certainly come round with the doctor from the medical insurance company, accuse his parents of having a lazy son, and accept the doctor's recommendation not to make any claim as the doctor believed that no-one was ever ill but that many were workshy. And what's more, would he have been entirely wrong in this case? Gregor did in fact, apart from excessive sleepiness after sleeping for so long, feel completely well and even felt much hungrier than usual.

He was still hurriedly thinking all this through, unable to decide to get out of the bed, when the clock struck quarter to seven. There was a cautious knock at the door near his head. "Gregor", somebody called - it was his mother - "it's quarter to seven. Didn't you want to go somewhere?" That gentle voice! Gregor was shocked when he heard his own voice answering, it could hardly be recognised as the voice he had had before. As if from deep inside him, there was a painful and uncontrollable squeaking mixed in with it, the words could be made out at first but then there was a sort of echo which made them unclear, leaving the hearer unsure whether he had heard properly or not. Gregor had wanted to give a full answer and explain everything, but in the circumstances contented himself with saying: "Yes, mother, yes, thank-you, I'm getting up now." The change in Gregor's voice probably could not be noticed outside through the wooden door, as his mother was satisfied with this explanation and shuffled away. But this short conversation made the other members of the family aware that Gregor, against their expectations was still at home, and soon his father came knocking at one of the side doors, gently, but with his fist. "Gregor, Gregor", he called, "what's wrong?" And after a short while he called again with a warning deepness in his voice: "Gregor! Gregor!" At the other side door his sister came plaintively: "Gregor? Aren't you well? Do you need anything?" Gregor answered to both sides: "I'm ready, now", making an effort to remove all the strangeness from his voice by enunciating very carefully and putting long pauses between each, individual word. His father went back to his breakfast, but his sister whispered: "Gregor, open the door, I beg of you." Gregor, however, had no thought of opening the door, and instead congratulated himself for his cautious habit, acquired from his travelling, of locking all doors at night even when he was at home.

The first thing he wanted to do was to get up in peace without being disturbed, to get dressed, and most of all to have his breakfast. Only then would he consider what to do next, as he was well aware that he would not bring his thoughts to any sensible conclusions by lying in bed. He remembered that he had often felt a slight pain in bed, perhaps caused by lying awkwardly, but that had always turned out to be pure imagination and he wondered how his imaginings would slowly resolve themselves today. He did not have the slightest doubt that the change in his voice was nothing more than the first sign of a serious cold, which was an occupational hazard for travelling salesmen.

It was a simple matter to throw off the covers; he only had to blow himself up a little and they fell off by themselves. But it became difficult after that, especially as he was so exceptionally broad. He would have used his arms and his hands to push himself up; but instead of them he only had all those little legs continuously moving in different directions, and which he was moreover unable to control. If he wanted to bend one of them, then that was the first one that would stretch itself out; and if he finally managed to do what he wanted with that leg, all the others seemed to be set free and would move about painfully. "This is something that can't be done in bed", Gregor said to himself, "so don't keep trying to do it".

The first thing he wanted to do was get the lower part of his body out of the bed, but he had never seen this lower part, and could not imagine what it looked like; it turned out to be too hard to move; it went so slowly; and finally, almost in a frenzy, when he carelessly shoved himself forwards with all the force he could gather, he chose the wrong direction, hit hard against the lower bedpost, and learned from the burning pain he felt that the lower part of his body might well, at present, be the most sensitive.

So then he tried to get the top part of his body out of the bed first, carefully turning his head to the side. This he managed quite easily, and despite its breadth and its weight, the bulk of his body eventually followed slowly in the direction of the head. But when he had at last got his head out of the bed and into the fresh air it occurred to him that if he let himself fall it would be a miracle if his head were not injured, so he became afraid to carry on pushing himself forward the same way. And he could not knock himself out now at any price; better to stay in bed than lose consciousness.

It took just as much effort to get back to where he had been earlier, but when he lay there sighing, and was once more watching his legs as they struggled against each other even harder than before, if that was possible, he could think of no way of bringing peace and order to this chaos. He told himself once more that it was not possible for him to stay in bed and that the most sensible thing to do would be to get free of it in whatever way he could at whatever sacrifice. At the same time, though, he did not forget to remind himself that calm consideration was much better than rushing to desperate conclusions. At times like this he would direct his eyes to the window and look out as clearly as he could, but unfortunately, even the other side of the narrow street was enveloped in morning fog and the view had little confidence or cheer to offer him. "Seven o'clock, already", he said to himself when the clock struck again, "seven o'clock, and there's still a fog like this." And he lay there quietly a while longer, breathing lightly as if he perhaps expected the total stillness to bring things back to their real and natural state.

But then he said to himself: "Before it strikes quarter past seven I'll definitely have to have got properly out of bed. And by then somebody will have come round from work to ask what's happened to me as well, as they open up at work before seven o'clock." And so he set himself to the task of swinging the entire length of his body out of the bed all at the same time. If he succeeded in falling out of bed in this way and kept his head raised as he did so he could probably avoid injuring it. His back seemed to be quite hard, and probably nothing would happen to it falling onto the carpet. His main concern was for the loud noise he was bound to make, and which even through all the doors would probably raise concern if not alarm. But it was something that had to be risked.

When Gregor was already sticking half way out of the bed - the new method was more of a game than an effort, all he had to do was rock back and forth - it occurred to him how simple everything would be if somebody came to help him. Two strong people - he had his father and the maid in mind - would have been more than enough; they would only have to push their arms under the dome of his back, peel him away from the bed, bend down with the load and then be patient and careful as he swang over onto the floor, where, hopefully, the little legs would find a use. Should he really call for help though, even apart from the fact that all the doors were locked? Despite all the difficulty he was in, he could not suppress a smile at this thought.

After a while he had already moved so far across that it would have been hard for him to keep his balance if he rocked too hard. The time was now ten past seven and he would have to make a final decision very soon. Then there was a ring at the door of the flat. "That'll be someone from work", he said to himself, and froze very still, although his little legs only became all the more lively as they danced around. For a moment everything remained quiet. "They're not opening the door", Gregor said to himself, caught in some nonsensical hope. But then of course, the maid's firm steps went to the door as ever and opened it. Gregor only needed to hear the visitor's first words of greeting and he knew who it was - the chief clerk himself. Why did Gregor have to be the only one condemned to work for a company where they immediately became highly suspicious at the slightest shortcoming? Were all employees, every one of them, louts, was there not one of them who was faithful and devoted who would go so mad with pangs of conscience that he couldn't get out of bed if he didn't spend at least a couple of hours in the morning on company business? Was it really not enough to let one of the trainees make enquiries - assuming enquiries were even necessary - did the chief clerk have to come himself, and did they have to show the whole, innocent family that this was so suspicious that only the chief clerk could be trusted to have the wisdom to investigate it? And more because these thoughts had made him upset than through any proper decision, he swang himself with all his force out of the bed. There was a loud thump, but it wasn't really a loud noise. His fall was softened a little by the carpet, and Gregor's back was also more elastic than he had thought, which made the sound muffled and not too noticeable. He had not held his head carefully enough, though, and hit it as he fell; annoyed and in pain, he turned it and rubbed it against the carpet.

"Something's fallen down in there", said the chief clerk in the room on the left. Gregor tried to imagine whether something of the sort that had happened to him today could ever happen to the chief clerk too; you had to concede that it was possible. But as if in gruff reply to this question, the chief clerk's firm footsteps in his highly polished boots could now be heard in the adjoining room. From the room on his right, Gregor's sister whispered to him to let him know: "Gregor, the chief clerk is here." "Yes, I know", said Gregor to himself; but without daring to raise his voice loud enough for his sister to hear him.

"Gregor", said his father now from the room to his left, "the chief clerk has come round and wants to know why you didn't leave on the early train. We don't know what to say to him. And anyway, he wants to speak to you personally. So please open up this door. I'm sure he'll be good enough to forgive the untidiness of your room." Then the chief clerk called "Good morning, Mr. Samsa". "He isn't well", said his mother to the chief clerk, while his father continued to speak through the door. "He isn't well, please believe me. Why else would Gregor have missed a train! The lad only ever thinks about the business. It nearly makes me cross the way he never goes out in the evenings; he's been in town for a week now but stayed home every evening. He sits with us in the kitchen and just reads the paper or studies train timetables. His idea of relaxation is working with his fretsaw. He's made a little frame, for instance, it only took him two or three evenings, you'll be amazed how nice it is; it's hanging up in his room; you'll see it as soon as Gregor opens the door. Anyway, I'm glad you're here; we wouldn't have been able to get Gregor to open the door by ourselves; he's so stubborn; and I'm sure he isn't well, he said this morning that he is, but he isn't." "I'll be there in a moment", said Gregor slowly and thoughtfully, but without moving so that he would not miss any word of the conversation. "Well I can't think of any other way of explaining it, Mrs. Samsa", said the chief clerk, "I hope it's nothing serious. But on the other hand, I must say that if we people in commerce ever become slightly unwell then, fortunately or unfortunately as you like, we simply have to overcome it because of business considerations." "Can the chief clerk come in to see you now then?", asked his father impatiently, knocking at the door again. "No", said Gregor. In the room on his right there followed a painful silence; in the room on his left his sister began to cry.

So why did his sister not go and join the others? She had probably only just got up and had not even begun to get dressed. And why was she crying? Was it because he had not got up, and had not let the chief clerk in, because he was in danger of losing his job and if that happened his boss would once more pursue their parents with the same demands as before? There was no need to worry about things like that yet. Gregor was still there and had not the slightest intention of abandoning his family. For the time being he just lay there on the carpet, and no-one who knew the condition he was in would seriously have expected him to let the chief clerk in. It was only a minor discourtesy, and a suitable excuse could easily be found for it later on, it was not something for which Gregor could be sacked on the spot. And it seemed to Gregor much more sensible to leave him now in peace instead of disturbing him with talking at him and crying. But the others didn't know what was happening, they were worried, that would excuse their behaviour.

The chief clerk now raised his voice, "Mr. Samsa", he called to him, "what is wrong? You barricade yourself in your room, give us no more than yes or no for an answer, you are causing serious and unnecessary concern to your parents and you fail - and I mention this just by the way - you fail to carry out your business duties in a way that is quite unheard of. I'm speaking here on behalf of your parents and of your employer, and really must request a clear and immediate explanation. I am astonished, quite astonished. I thought I knew you as a calm and sensible person, and now you suddenly seem to be showing off with peculiar whims. This morning, your employer did suggest a possible reason for your failure to appear, it's true - it had to do with the money that was recently entrusted to you - but I came near to giving him my word of honour that that could not be the right explanation. But now that I see your incomprehensible stubbornness I no longer feel any wish whatsoever to intercede on your behalf. And nor is your position all that secure. I had originally intended to say all this to you in private, but since you cause me to waste my time here for no good reason I don't see why your parents should not also learn of it. Your turnover has been very unsatisfactory of late; I grant you that it's not the time of year to do especially good business, we recognise that; but there simply is no time of year to do no business at all, Mr. Samsa, we cannot allow there to be."

"But Sir", called Gregor, beside himself and forgetting all else in the excitement, "I'll open up immediately, just a moment. I'm slightly unwell, an attack of dizziness, I haven't been able to get up. I'm still in bed now. I'm quite fresh again now, though. I'm just getting out of bed. Just a moment. Be patient! It's not quite as easy as I'd thought. I'm quite alright now, though. It's shocking, what can suddenly happen to a person! I was quite alright last night, my parents know about it, perhaps better than me, I had a small symptom of it last night already. They must have noticed it. I don't know why I didn't let you know at work! But you always think you can get over an illness without staying at home. Please, don't make my parents suffer! There's no basis for any of the accusations you're making; nobody's ever said a word to me about any of these things. Maybe you haven't read the latest contracts I sent in. I'll set off with the eight o'clock train, as well, these few hours of rest have given me strength. You don't need to wait, sir; I'll be in the office soon after you, and please be so good as to tell that to the boss and recommend me to him!"

And while Gregor gushed out these words, hardly knowing what he was saying, he made his way over to the chest of drawers - this was easily done, probably because of the practise he had already had in bed - where he now tried to get himself upright. He really did want to open the door, really did want to let them see him and to speak with the chief clerk; the others were being so insistent, and he was curious to learn what they would say when they caught sight of him. If they were shocked then it would no longer be Gregor's responsibility and he could rest. If, however, they took everything calmly he would still have no reason to be upset, and if he hurried he really could be at the station for eight o'clock. The first few times he tried to climb up on the smooth chest of drawers he just slid down again, but he finally gave himself one last swing and stood there upright; the lower part of his body was in serious pain but he no longer gave any attention to it. Now he let himself fall against the back of a nearby chair and held tightly to the edges of it with his little legs. By now he had also calmed down, and kept quiet so that he could listen to what the chief clerk was saying.

"Did you understand a word of all that?" the chief clerk asked his parents, "surely he's not trying to make fools of us". "Oh, God!" called his mother, who was already in tears, "he could be seriously ill and we're making him suffer. Grete! Grete!" she then cried. "Mother?" his sister called from the other side. They communicated across Gregor's room. "You'll have to go for the doctor straight away. Gregor is ill. Quick, get the doctor. Did you hear the way Gregor spoke just now?" "That was the voice of an animal", said the chief clerk, with a calmness that was in contrast with his mother's screams. "Anna! Anna!" his father called into the kitchen through the entrance hall, clapping his hands, "get a locksmith here, now!" And the two girls, their skirts swishing, immediately ran out through the hall, wrenching open the front door of the flat as they went. How had his sister managed to get dressed so quickly? There was no sound of the door banging shut again; they must have left it open; people often do in homes where something awful has happened.

Gregor, in contrast, had become much calmer. So they couldn't understand his words any more, although they seemed clear enough to him, clearer than before - perhaps his ears had become used to the sound. They had realised, though, that there was something wrong with him, and were ready to help. The first response to his situation had been confident and wise, and that made him feel better. He felt that he had been drawn back in among people, and from the doctor and the locksmith he expected great and surprising achievements - although he did not really distinguish one from the other. Whatever was said next would be crucial, so, in order to make his voice as clear as possible, he coughed a little, but taking care to do this not too loudly as even this might well sound different from the way that a human coughs and he was no longer sure he could judge this for himself. Meanwhile, it had become very quiet in the next room. Perhaps his parents were sat at the table whispering with the chief clerk, or perhaps they were all pressed against the door and listening.

Gregor slowly pushed his way over to the door with the chair. Once there he let go of it and threw himself onto the door, holding himself upright against it using the adhesive on the tips of his legs. He rested there a little while to recover from the effort involved and then set himself to the task of turning the key in the lock with his mouth. He seemed, unfortunately, to have no proper teeth - how was he, then, to grasp the key? - but the lack of teeth was, of course, made up for with a very strong jaw; using the jaw, he really was able to start the key turning, ignoring the fact that he must have been causing some kind of damage as a brown fluid came from his mouth, flowed over the key and dripped onto the floor. "Listen", said the chief clerk in the next room, "he's turning the key." Gregor was greatly encouraged by this; but they all should have been calling to him, his father and his mother too: "Well done, Gregor", they should have cried, "keep at it, keep hold of the lock!" And with the idea that they were all excitedly following his efforts, he bit on the key with all his strength, paying no attention to the pain he was causing himself. As the key turned round he turned around the lock with it, only holding himself upright with his mouth, and hung onto the key or pushed it down again with the whole weight of his body as needed. The clear sound of the lock as it snapped back was Gregor's sign that he could break his concentration, and as he regained his breath he said to himself: "So, I didn't need the locksmith after all". Then he lay his head on the handle of the door to open it completely.

Because he had to open the door in this way, it was already wide open before he could be seen. He had first to slowly turn himself around one of the double doors, and he had to do it very carefully if he did not want to fall flat on his back before entering the room. He was still occupied with this difficult movement, unable to pay attention to anything else, when he heard the chief clerk exclaim a loud "Oh!", which sounded like the soughing of the wind. Now he also saw him - he was the nearest to the door - his hand pressed against his open mouth and slowly retreating as if driven by a steady and invisible force. Gregor's mother, her hair still dishevelled from bed despite the chief clerk's being there, looked at his father. Then she unfolded her arms, took two steps forward towards Gregor and sank down onto the floor into her skirts that spread themselves out around her as her head disappeared down onto her breast. His father looked hostile, and clenched his fists as if wanting to knock Gregor back into his room. Then he looked uncertainly round the living room, covered his eyes with his hands and wept so that his powerful chest shook.

So Gregor did not go into the room, but leant against the inside of the other door which was still held bolted in place. In this way only half of his body could be seen, along with his head above it which he leant over to one side as he peered out at the others. Meanwhile the day had become much lighter; part of the endless, grey-black building on the other side of the street - which was a hospital - could be seen quite clearly with the austere and regular line of windows piercing its facade; the rain was still falling, now throwing down large, individual droplets which hit the ground one at a time. The washing up from breakfast lay on the table; there was so much of it because, for Gregor's father, breakfast was the most important meal of the day and he would stretch it out for several hours as he sat reading a number of different newspapers. On the wall exactly opposite there was photograph of Gregor when he was a lieutenant in the army, his sword in his hand and a carefree smile on his face as he called forth respect for his uniform and bearing. The door to the entrance hall was open and as the front door of the flat was also open he could see onto the landing and the stairs where they began their way down below.

"Now, then", said Gregor, well aware that he was the only one to have kept calm, "I'll get dressed straight away now, pack up my samples and set off. Will you please just let me leave? You can see", he said to the chief clerk, "that I'm not stubborn and like I like to do my job; being a commercial traveller is arduous but without travelling I couldn't earn my living. So where are you going, in to the office? Yes? Will you report everything accurately, then? It's quite possible for someone to be temporarily unable to work, but that's just the right time to remember what's been achieved in the past and consider that later on, once the difficulty has been removed, he will certainly work with all the more diligence and concentration. You're well aware that I'm seriously in debt to our employer as well as having to look after my parents and my sister, so that I'm trapped in a difficult situation, but I will work my way out of it again. Please don't make things any harder for me than they are already, and don't take sides against me at the office. I know that nobody likes the travellers. They think we earn an enormous wage as well as having a soft time of it. That's just prejudice but they have no particular reason to think better it. But you, sir, you have a better overview than the rest of the staff, in fact, if I can say this in confidence, a better overview than the boss himself - it's very easy for a businessman like him to make mistakes about his employees and judge them more harshly than he should. And you're also well aware that we travellers spend almost the whole year away from the office, so that we can very easily fall victim to gossip and chance and groundless complaints, and it's almost impossible to defend yourself from that sort of thing, we don't usually even hear about them, or if at all it's when we arrive back home exhausted from a trip, and that's when we feel the harmful effects of what's been going on without even knowing what caused them. Please, don't go away, at least first say something to show that you grant that I'm at least partly right!"

But the chief clerk had turned away as soon as Gregor had started to speak, and, with protruding lips, only stared back at him over his trembling shoulders as he left. He did not keep still for a moment while Gregor was speaking, but moved steadily towards the door without taking his eyes off him. He moved very gradually, as if there had been some secret prohibition on leaving the room. It was only when he had reached the entrance hall that he made a sudden movement, drew his foot from the living room, and rushed forward in a panic. In the hall, he stretched his right hand far out towards the stairway as if out there, there were some supernatural force waiting to save him.

Gregor realised that it was out of the question to let the chief clerk go away in this mood if his position in the firm was not to be put into extreme danger. That was something his parents did not understand very well; over the years, they had become convinced that this job would provide for Gregor for his entire life, and besides, they had so much to worry about at present that they had lost sight of any thought for the future. Gregor, though, did think about the future. The chief clerk had to be held back, calmed down, convinced and finally won over; the future of Gregor and his family depended on it! If only his sister were here! She was clever; she was already in tears while Gregor was still lying peacefully on his back. And the chief clerk was a lover of women, surely she could persuade him; she would close the front door in the entrance hall and talk him out of his shocked state. But his sister was not there, Gregor would have to do the job himself. And without considering that he still was not familiar with how well he could move about in his present state, or that his speech still might not - or probably would not - be understood, he let go of the door; pushed himself through the opening; tried to reach the chief clerk on the landing who, ridiculously, was holding on to the banister with both hands; but Gregor fell immediately over and, with a little scream as he sought something to hold onto, landed on his numerous little legs. Hardly had that happened than, for the first time that day, he began to feel alright with his body; the little legs had the solid ground under them; to his pleasure, they did exactly as he told them; they were even making the effort to carry him where he wanted to go; and he was soon believing that all his sorrows would soon be finally at an end. He held back the urge to move but swayed from side to side as he crouched there on the floor. His mother was not far away in front of him and seemed, at first, quite engrossed in herself, but then she suddenly jumped up with her arms outstretched and her fingers spread shouting: "Help, for pity's sake, Help!" The way she held her head suggested she wanted to see Gregor better, but the unthinking way she was hurrying backwards showed that she did not; she had forgotten that the table was behind her with all the breakfast things on it; when she reached the table she sat quickly down on it without knowing what she was doing; without even seeming to notice that the coffee pot had been knocked over and a gush of coffee was pouring down onto the carpet.

"Mother, mother", said Gregor gently, looking up at her. He had completely forgotten the chief clerk for the moment, but could not help himself snapping in the air with his jaws at the sight of the flow of coffee. That set his mother screaming anew, she fled from the table and into the arms of his father as he rushed towards her. Gregor, though, had no time to spare for his parents now; the chief clerk had already reached the stairs; with his chin on the banister, he looked back for the last time. Gregor made a run for him; he wanted to be sure of reaching him; the chief clerk must have expected something, as he leapt down several steps at once and disappeared; his shouts resounding all around the staircase. The flight of the chief clerk seemed, unfortunately, to put Gregor's father into a panic as well. Until then he had been relatively self controlled, but now, instead of running after the chief clerk himself, or at least not impeding Gregor as he ran after him, Gregor's father seized the chief clerk's stick in his right hand (the chief clerk had left it behind on a chair, along with his hat and overcoat), picked up a large newspaper from the table with his left, and used them to drive Gregor back into his room, stamping his foot at him as he went. Gregor's appeals to his father were of no help, his appeals were simply not understood, however much he humbly turned his head his father merely stamped his foot all the harder. Across the room, despite the chilly weather, Gregor's mother had pulled open a window, leant far out of it and pressed her hands to her face. A strong draught of air flew in from the street towards the stairway, the curtains flew up, the newspapers on the table fluttered and some of them were blown onto the floor. Nothing would stop Gregor's father as he drove him back, making hissing noises at him like a wild man. Gregor had never had any practice in moving backwards and was only able to go very slowly. If Gregor had only been allowed to turn round he would have been back in his room straight away, but he was afraid that if he took the time to do that his father would become impatient, and there was the threat of a lethal blow to his back or head from the stick in his father's hand any moment. Eventually, though, Gregor realised that he had no choice as he saw, to his disgust, that he was quite incapable of going backwards in a straight line; so he began, as quickly as possible and with frequent anxious glances at his father, to turn himself round. It went very slowly, but perhaps his father was able to see his good intentions as he did nothing to hinder him, in fact now and then he used the tip of his stick to give directions from a distance as to which way to turn. If only his father would stop that unbearable hissing! It was making Gregor quite confused. When he had nearly finished turning round, still listening to that hissing, he made a mistake and turned himself back a little the way he had just come. He was pleased when he finally had his head in front of the doorway, but then saw that it was too narrow, and his body was too broad to get through it without further difficulty. In his present mood, it obviously did not occur to his father to open the other of the double doors so that Gregor would have enough space to get through. He was merely fixed on the idea that Gregor should be got back into his room as quickly as possible. Nor would he ever have allowed Gregor the time to get himself upright as preparation for getting through the doorway. What he did, making more noise than ever, was to drive Gregor forwards all the harder as if there had been nothing in the way; it sounded to Gregor as if there was now more than one father behind him; it was not a pleasant experience, and Gregor pushed himself into the doorway without regard for what might happen. One side of his body lifted itself, he lay at an angle in the doorway, one flank scraped on the white door and was painfully injured, leaving vile brown flecks on it, soon he was stuck fast and would not have been able to move at all by himself, the little legs along one side hung quivering in the air while those on the other side were pressed painfully against the ground. Then his father gave him a hefty shove from behind which released him from where he was held and sent him flying, and heavily bleeding, deep into his room. The door was slammed shut with the stick, then, finally, all was quiet.