#those are easier but I’ll just look it up when I comes to story cus I’m here for a specific thing and I it ain’t that

[grapejuicefilledpools]

Definitely being that person but I don’t have fun with these fricking boss challenges in the story of Nu Carnival specifically. Like I’m not having fun lmao this Rei boss makes me pissy

[mangoshorthand]

ugh, ok listen. its stupid and cheesy and overplayed but i love the caught under the mistletoe trope. its stupidly corny and as annoying as christmas is, my dumb ass falls for it everytime. you’re my favourite writer for five, and if you could write something for this (or hit me with a bat to improve my taste) that’d be rlly cool. if not, dw and happy holidays.

Stupid, cheesy and overplayed? You just described my entire body of work! I've struggled writing for a while so I hope people enjoy this. Merry Christmas, weirdos x

Twelve Feet Away From the Mistletoe | Five Hargreeves / F Reader 2.8k words

Viktor was a friend of a friend who gradually became your own. 

He was supportive when you lost your job in September, and was even more practical help when you lost your apartment around Halloween. 

“There are like forty spare bedrooms. Technically I can do what I like with six of those since I own a seventh of the house. Plus you wouldn’t get in anyone’s way. There’s like…so much room. 

“Viktor, that’s kind but I’ll be fine. My parents say -”

“Don’t your parents live outside the city?” he interrupted, “I think it would be easier to find work if you’re here.”

“Yeah, it would, but I can’t pay any rent.”

“I don’t want rent. Stay a few months. Be my guest. I could use someone to help me deal with my crazy family anyway. It’s weird being back in that house.”

And so, you’d accepted. It was hard to refuse Viktor anything. 

‘Crazy’ was one word to describe his family. ‘Volatile’, ‘noisy’ and ‘infuriating’ were some others. 

And none were more infuriating than Number Five. 

You met him the first night you stayed, while Viktor was thrashing you at pool as the pair of you got gradually drunker on Moscow Mules. You weren’t really enjoying the game, but you were enjoying hanging out with him, and you’d just mis-cued spectacularly as Five entered the room.

The first thing you noticed was his scowl. The second, third, fourth and fifth thing you noticed was his looks. 

Dark. Pale. Jaw a razor lined angle, nose long and imperious. He moved with quick, confident grace as he crossed the room. It was as if every thread of carpet his shoes touched had been waiting until that moment, just to pave his way, and now all other treads to come would be incidental to the floor’s true purpose. Hands thrust self-assuredly in his pockets, he seemed to look down on you as if from a great height, although he was barely an inch taller. 

Cold green eyes looked you up and down.  

He cut a fine figure, but an arrogant one. Despite his looks, your overriding impression was only of rudeness, so you met the challenge of his gaze unflinchingly. 

After a moment surveying you, he turned to Viktor.

“Luther’s looking for you.”

“Why?” Viktor asked.

“No idea. I’m not your secretary.”

As Five’s gaze shifted back to you, Viktor took the hint and introduced you.

“She’s a friend of mine,” he said, by way of explanation, “she’s lost her apartment so she’ll be staying for a while.”

Five sighed at this, shaking his head at you with a dark chuckle.

“Is there a problem?” you asked, politely. 

“No. No problem,” he said, though his tone making it clear that there was, “It’s only that I’ve seen this play out a dozen times: my brother has a habit of picking up waifs and strays.”

“Don’t be dickhead,” Viktor murmured.

Five shrugged, smirking.

“Letting me stay for a few weeks because we’re friends is hardly ‘picking me up’, you said, bristling, “I’m sure Viktor will ask for your opinion when he wants it.”

Five smiled that infuriating, sarcastic smile of his. Even then, when you were angry with him, looking into his eyes was an experience you noticed for the way it made your heart beat.

“I guess I’m just a little protective,” Five said, delicately, “I know how susceptible he is to a sob story."

He looked at you insolently for a beat longer before addressing his next words to Viktor.

"Don’t let her take advantage of you.”

“Come on, Five,” said Viktor, almost wearily, “I can decide who’s taking advantage for myself.”

Five scoffed, at this, expressing doubt as clearly as if he'd spoken it.

Stinging with the injustice of Five’s snap judgment and his infantilization of his brother, you ground your teeth. You knew Viktor had a tough time as ‘Number Seven’ (always being told he wasn’t good enough), and for a moment you thought you could see that in Five’s treatment of him.

“Your brother’s a grown man. So why don’t you fuck off and go back to torturing small mammals, planning your next school shooting or whatever your We Need to Talk About Kevin - looking ass likes to do?”

Five looked back at you, in slight surprise, studying your angry face. After a short moment, he gave a tiny shrug and made a small noise of assent.

Then, looking back at Viktor:

“Do you want Thai food later?”

When he was gone, Viktor assured you that you’d just made as good an impression as it was possible to make. 

You doubted this, however. Five rarely spoke to you beyond a good morning and a good night. He was polite, but nevertheless guarded. 

It was strange, on the few occasions he had deigned to strike up a conversation with you, he took two routes: he'd either draw you out for no reason other than to challenge you on your opinions, or else ask odd combinations of questions. There was nothing odd in themselves, but in aggregate they felt...strategic. He asked what you liked to do, whether you lived with a roommate or partner in your last place, how you and Viktor met, how well you knew each other…the list went on. 

Perhaps he was still scrutinizing you, ensuring that you weren’t trying to use his brother in any way. 

It stung to feel that he still suspected you when you’d done nothing but accept a friend’s offer of help, but you were soon able to put it from your mind in the wake of the enjoyment you got from staying there and hanging out with the rest of Viktor’s family. Over the few weeks you were there, you indulged Luther, chatted animatedly with Diego, and laughed with Klaus and Lila. 

But still, and despite his polite superciliousness, only the oldest brother drew your eye as soon as he entered any room.

He unnerved as well as attracted you. Sometimes, you thought you caught him watching you, peering over whatever book he was reading with a steady look of contemplation. As soon as you noticed it, however, you concluded it was probably just absent-mindedness: you found him staring into space or at one of siblings just as often. 

You found a new job by mid-November, but Viktor persuaded you to wait for your first month’s paycheck to come in before you put down a deposit on a new place, so when it came to your last night staying with them there were half-assed string lights and tinsel hung haphazardly around Hargreeves manor. 

Those on the tree and the fire crackling in the grate were the living room’s only light. In the flickering, warm glow, even Luther’s piss-poor attempt at decoration looked passable.

With Christmas music playing softly in the background, the booze had been flowing. Ill-advised mulled wine followed ill-advised eggnog followed ill-advised mimosas, leading Luther and Sloane to already stagger off to bed.

Sprawled on one of the couches, Viktor leaned towards you, lowering his voice so as not to be heard over the noise of Klaus and Diego arguing over who had most right to the final gingerbread man. 

“I'll miss you, but at least when you're gone Five's crush might calm down."

“What?” you asked, too quickly to pass off as true ignorance.

“Come on, he’s been staring at you for the past three weeks.” Viktor smiled, teasing in his tipsiness, I’ve never seen him like this,” he added, fondly.

“Yeah, whatever.” you said, brushing this off with a roll of your eyes, “If he’s been staring at me, it’s probably only because I piss him off more than anyone else in the room.”

“We all piss him off.” Viktor said, reasonably, “Everyone he likes pisses him off.”

You looked at him doubtfully.

“Pretty weird way to be.”

Viktor shrugged.

“Well, he's definitely interested. The other day he asked if there was anything between you and me. Why else would he ask me that?"

You looked at Five covertly from the corner of your eye.

“Probably just checking I’m not some gold-digger moving in on that sweet sweet Hargreeves dough.”

“I don’t think he cares about the Hargreeves dough,” Viktor replied. 

“Yeah, well,” you murmured, hoping that this would be the end of the conversation. 

But Viktor didn’t oblige you in this. The drink was making him uncharacteristically tenacious.

“He’s into you. I’m sure of it. So you don’t like him?”

You sighed deeply, your own mild intoxication making it harder to bullshit him.

“I’m not saying he isn’t hot,” (Viktor visibly cringed at this remark), “but why would I be into someone who looks at me like I’m a problem?”

“I think that’s just his face,” Viktor said, more uncertain now, “but I hear you.”

The conversation moved on, and you chatted with the family lazily as, one by one they all filtered off to bed. Soon, it was just you, Five and Viktor who, when you turned to look at him after Klaus’s departure, had fallen asleep on the couch. 

Five caught sight of this and let out a small laughing breath. At the sound, you caught his eye and smiled, sharing the moment of humor.

At this reception, he got slowly up from his armchair and moved over to your couch. His usually confident movements were smaller than usual. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought he was uncertain in this approach. 

“Too much eggnog,” you said, as he sat down, nodding at his snoring brother.

“Mhm.” Five agreed, “There’s not much of him and he’s no drinker.”

You fell back into silence. He was only a few inches from you now, and it was awkward; strangely awkward. you were just thinking how best to excuse yourself and whether you should wake Viktor, when Five spoke again. 

“So, you’re moving into your new place tomorrow?”

You cleared your throat. There should be nothing uncomfortable about this. This was just small-talk with your friend’s brother.

...Your friend's brother who apparently hated your guts yet had also appeared in your dreams virtually every night since you met him in varying states of undress.

Pulling yourself together, you turned to face him with a passable impression of ease. 

“Yeah. I’m all packed. The moving van will be here around 11.”

“Hm,” Five said.

It was a single syllable, yet its ambiguity in tone made you look at him more closely.

He noticed.

“Will you decorate the new place for christmas?” he asked, quickly.

“Probably not,” you said, trying to keep your tone conversational, “my parents are away this year so I’ll be doing Christmas alone. There’s no point in unpacking it all just to put it away again in a few days.”

Giving himself thinking time, Five shifted, letting out a little sigh as he repositioned himself. Holding his glass of whisky on his knee, he leaned back, resting his head against the couch cushions and watching you from beneath the dark hair now falling over his eyes. 

“That seems a shame,” he said, finally.

You shrugged, mirroring him unconsciously, leaning back against the cushions so that your faces were just over a foot apart

“There’s always next year.”

“You’d be welcome here.” he said, seriously, “It was nice having you for Thanksgiving.”

“I’d never assume Viktor would invite me.”

“But I’m inviting you.”

You looked at him with a confused expression, which he interpreted correctly:

“What? Is it too much to imagine I want you to be there?”

'Yes', you wanted to say.

“You called me a deluded hippy at Thanksgiving.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing. You’re a progressive…an idealistic progressive.” 

He smiled, and your eyes flicked uncontrollably down to his lips. 

“And I only said that because you called me a fascist,” he continued, unaware of your unruly gaze flicking guiltily away from his mouth, “I know you weren’t being serious, but I don’t take that sort of accusation lightly.”

He responded to the question posed by your expression:

“I spent a lot of time in 1930s Munich. Not nice.”

You stole another glance at him and caught his grim face; handsome features clouded by too many dark memories.  

“I’m sorry,” you said, more softly than you’d ever spoken to him before. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, “I guess I’ve not given you the best impression.”

“No,” you said, disclaiming the idea unconvincingly, “it’s not exactly that…”

He raised an eyebrow skeptically, and you chuckled slightly.

“Well, I got the impression you wouldn’t like me to come to another family celebration, anyway.”

“And now I want to correct that impression.” he said, seriously, “I’d like to spend christmas with you. With all of us, I mean.”

You’d been looking into his eyes for too long now, fine lashes framing them, his pupils blown in the low light. Somehow, those eyes always gave you the impression you were being assessed.

…And for the first time, it occurred to you that perhaps you were being assessed: just not in the way you’d assumed.

You blinked and looked down, though you didn’t move your head from beside his.

“Thanks Five,” you replied, after a silence of seconds that felt like minutes. “I’d like that.” 

He smiled again, the corners of his mouth just twitching. It was as if he was trying to conceal just how much you accepting his invitation meant, but the lines around his eyes betrayed him. As you smiled in return, he couldn’t contain it further, and those gorgeous lips broke into a genuine, unrestrained smile.

And somehow, over the course of the conversation, your heads had shifted to a distance of no more than six inches apart.

You could feel his exhales on your cheeks. 

“I heard you and Viktor talking tonight.” he said, voice low, “He’s right about me.”

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks as he continued.

“I don’t think you’re a problem. Far from it, actually.”

“Oh,” you said. It was all you could say as he inched ever closer to you. 

You could have counted each of his eyelashes.

“And I also know that you think I’m hot,” he said, emphasizing the word with the ghost of his usual shit-eating grin back in his eyes, “so why not take the opportunity of being under the mistletoe and kiss me?”

You looked up to where he’d indicated. Across the room, above the fireplace, there was indeed a bunch of felt mistletoe, tied with a red, velvet bow: exactly the sort of decoration Luther would buy. 

“But we’re not under the mistletoe,” you said, hoping to give your racing mind and beating heart some time to take stock of this, “it’s twelve feet away.”

Five’s eyebrows twitched, and he looked quickly from you to the mistletoe and back again.

“Let me fix that,” he said, and suddenly your upper arms were caught in his grip.

Air crushed in on you as you both disappeared in a flash of blue, and then rushed away as you rematerialized beside the fireplace, mistletoe hanging overheard. You swayed from the surprise of unexpected teleportation, holding onto Five’s lapels for dear life as you tried to stay upright.

But his arms were around you, strong and solid. And his mouth was on yours, soft and yielding. You breathed his breath; tasted the sweet burn of scotch on his lips and felt yourself kissing him back, responding to a careful passion that you could sense might go further but for his self-restraint. 

His hands left your arms and came to cup your jaw, rising gooseflesh following the path of his fingers at the nape of your neck. You shivered at the sensation and deepened the kiss, your fingers automatically starting to gently tug into his soft, eucalyptus-smelling hair.

He made a low, appreciative sound against your lips but then, perhaps conscious of his brother sleeping on the couch, broke the kiss and stepped away.

You could do nothing but stand there: surprised, dazed, yet anxious to recapture his lips. The kiss had felt like one, shining, crystalline moment as it happened, but now it had already retreated too far over the horizon for you to stay satisfied.

You opened your mouth to say…you didn’t know what, but, grinning his infuriating grin, he held up a single finger to silence you.

“I'll see you on Christmas Eve. Stay a couple of nights.”

You nodded, mutely.

“It’s forecast to be cold though, so if you get cold in one of the spare bedrooms you could always-”

Now it was your turn to hold up a finger and silence him:

“Don’t ruin this with a crappy pickup line.”

He nodded sagely.

“Noted.” 

And with a small wink, he vanished in another of those blue flashes. 

Read part 2 >>

Request masterlist >> HERE

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed): @thebearmage, @nevbrooke-555, @fiannee

NOTE: I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See masterlist for request status and more.

[stillebesat]

Christmas Eve (3/5)

Sanders Sides: Janus, Patton, Roman, Virgil Pairings: Past Roceit (was toxic), Familial Moceit (Dad Janus, Son Patton) Blurb: Of all the barriers that Janus expected to have to overcome in order to get his son a pet for Christmas, encountering his Ex, Roman, working in the pet store had never once crossed his mind. Fic Type: Christmas!Eve Fic, Past Lovers to Enemies to ??? trope, Dad!Janus, Kid!Patton, MythicalMin!AU, Frogmin!AU Overall Fic Warnings: Past Toxic Relationship Talk, Manipulation/Lying Talk Taglist in Reblog To Catch Up: Part 1 Part 2 

He supposed it was the shock of Roman actually helping him that allowed his Ex to drag him halfway through the store before Janus remembered he didn’t have to be complacent in this. 

“Seriously.” He rasped, jerking his arm, finding it difficult to focus on anything more than the burning grip of Roman’s hand around his wrist. “You don’t have to do this.” 

It sounded so flimsy soo--so trite. So insincere. Even to his own ears. Roman had to be dissecting his words and tone even now, searching for the trick--the manipulation he had used as easily as a fish breathed water all throughout his--well his entire life, even if Roman had only experienced it first hand for a couple of years during college. 

With that sort of bad history between them...of all the possibilities that had flashed through his mind when he and Roman had made eye contact...having him actually help them had never--well it had--briefly. Very very briefly. Crossed his mind. But it had been a fool’s hope. Not when their relationship had ended more explosively than the grand finale of a firework show.

“I--” He swallowed trying again as he adjusted Pattey’s weight on his hip. This wasn’t at all how he’d pictured them meeting again. He wasn’t ready for this. “We really can just leave. He’ll understand.” His son knew all too well about his history with the Prince even if it was just through bedtime stories. “You don’t have to--”

“Shut up, Dragon Witch.” Roman growled, tugging him around a corner. “I don’t want to either. But I’m not heartless.” 

“You’re not.” He agreed. Roman was anything but that. He was good. He’d been the best thing that had happened to him before Patton came into his life, and Janus had taken advantage of that in the worst ways possible, using him and then tossing him away like so much trash without realizing what a treasure Roman actually was. “But you don’t have to force yourself on my--” Janus cut off as a small hand covered his mouth, his son’s bright eyes filled with excitement. 

“Shh, Daddy.” He patted his lips. “You told me if a Prince offers to help you, you let him help! You don’t say no.”

Yes. But he hadn’t meant that to apply to himself! What he’d done--it could be considered unforgivable. No one should be treated how he’d treated Roman--or well, any of his former relationships. It had taken Patton’s birth to get him to...stop. To want to change. To be better. 

Roman had the gall to smirk at him as he stopped in front of a display of cages, letting go of Janus’s wrist so he could fish out a set of keys from his pocket. “Correct, little man. It’s a Prince’s duty to help all those he encounters in distress….even if the fair damsel turns out to be a---.”

“Aaraog!” Patton piped up.

Roman froze, looking nonplussed at the nonsequir. “Aaraog?” 

“You can’t trust them. They’re Evil.” Patton said solemnly before bouncing in Janus’s arms as he stared eagerly into the cages. “Daddy says that even though the Dragon Witch is a jerk, he still occasionally helps the Prince! And so they can’t be meanies to each other all the time like Aaraog sooo if the Prince can help the Dragon Witch then you, Prince--” 

“Roman.” Janus said softly, the name feeling like he was tasting the forbidden fruit as it rolled off his tongue. He looked away as his Ex shot him a dark look. Yah...he didn’t think they were on first name terms anymore, hence why he only ever called the Prince...well Prince. But Pattey had been upset that the Dragon Witch always fought with the Prince and always lost...so he’d told a slightly different story from the usual, using a giant spider as the villain instead. It’d been... a kind of self wish of his. Where he hoped things would eventually...maybe...work out.

“Prince Roman! And my Daddy can be friends today too as you help!”

Ha. That would be the day. He wasn’t a fool enough to believe them rekindling any sort of...friendship...would ever actually happen. Even if he wanted a redo...he was pretty sure he’d burned that bridge and then buried the ashes in a pit a hundred feet deep back in college.

“I--I--don’t think he’s...uh...I’m sure the Dragon Witch can be...nice.” Roman said, rubbing the back of his neck.

And Janus was a platypus. “Liar.” He mumbled. Roman had only ever known his manipulative nice. Not his genuine niceness. How could he? Janus had only learned how to be so after Patton had said his first word. Years after everything had...ended between them. 

“You’re one to talk.” Roman hissed. 

“Yes and?” 

Pattey looked between the two of them, before deciding that comforting his Dad was needed. His little hands squished Janus’s cheeks. “But Daddy isn’t a true Dragon Witch!” He said firmly, maintaining eye contact before he flashed his hundred watt smile, succeeding in melting Janus’s heart once again. “He’s the bestest Daddy in the whole world! Even if he doesn’t think so.” 

Janus flushed. “Liar.” He repeated. He was sure there were plenty of other Dads who were far better than he could ever be.

“Truther!” Patton grinned. “The best best best BEST Daddy!!” 

He shook his head as Roman scoffed, hoping his face wasn’t as red as a tomato--this awkward encounter was only going to get much worse if he didn’t hurry this up. Janus quickly set his son down, pushing him towards the cage his Ex had unlocked. 

“Go pick one you like.” He encouraged, staying crouched to discourage Roman from talking to him even if it did mean his Ex would be hovering over him like the Sword of Damocles. It wasn’t ideal, but it would hopefully keep himself from saying something he would regret and get them kicked out before he could buy a Frogmin for his son.

After all, Roman had to only be helping him on Patton’s behalf. If his kid hadn’t been here he was sure his Ex would have taken one look at him and thrown him right back out, no questions asked. So the sooner they could get out of here the sooner they both could forget this whole encounter. 

Not that Janus would be able to forget. Not when Pattey usually demanded a Prince story for bedtime. 

“Oh!!!” Patton pressed his face against the glass where little multi-colored frog-like humans crouched among the branches inside the cage. “Look at them, Daddy!!! LOOK! FROGMINS!! They’re here! AWWWWWW. Look at their cute little spots!!”

Janus let out a slow breath, the tension in his shoulders easing. Finally. After fifteen stores he could finally make good on his promise to his son.

“Careful. You don’t want to scare them.” Roman said, also kneeling down, keeping Pattey between them as he pointed to the half dozen Frogmins inside. “While they have frog characteristics, it’s easier to think of them as mini people. And some of them can get really scared when a giant face suddenly appears in front of them.”

His son’s eyes went wide. “Noooo. I don’t wanna scare them!” Pattey leaned back, wrapping his arms around himself as he twisted back and forth. “They’re just sooo cool! And so Princely! Cus if you kiss one they can turn large and save the day! Like the stories! But I want mine to remain small, so I’ll be very careful in my kisses. And they can hop and climb walls like--” Patton made a face and Janus had to bite back a smile at his son’s reluctance to say Spiderman. “Like superheros!! And they eat bugs! Like...like!!!....like….spiders.” He shivered. “I don’t like them.” 

Roman tilted his head, amber eyes flashing with understanding. “So you’re looking for a Frogmin to protect you from spiders?” 

Pattey nodded hard enough he looked like a bobble head. “He’ll keep me safe while I sleep!”

Roman chuckled. “A good reason to get a Frogmin. Though not all of them like to eat spiders. Just like some little boys don’t like to eat their vegetables.”

His son grimaced. “But carrots are icky!!”

“And some Frogmins think spiders are icky too.” He said gently, opening a small hatch in the side of the cage where three of the Frogmins had already gathered. “While you can just pick one that you like the look of...you could also come over here and hold out your hands--don’t reach in, but hold out your hands and ask them if any of them would like to come live with you and eat spiders...or well, like to have them as a treat as I’m sure you don’t want to feed them dried ones.” He glanced over to Janus as he spoke.

Ha. No. While he did have some dried spiders waiting at home, there was no way he’d pull out any of the creatures...even dead ones...where his son could see. One meltdown at the first pet store had been enough to convince him why having his Lilypatton see spiders--dead or alive--was a bad idea. 

Janus let out a slow breath as Pattey eagerly moved closer, his small hands held out to the opening. 

“Do you guys like to eat spiders?” He whisper-shouted to the group. “If you do, we have plenty of them at home and I really really REALLY want you to eat ALL of them. Please? Pleeeease.”

And now Roman was going to think they lived in a haunted house or something. Really, it was more of an issue of all the spiders in their backyard instead of inside. 

Janus shook his head, holding up a hand. “I have a variety of other dried insects to choose from at home if the one Pattey picks doesn’t like spiders.” He said, glancing at his Ex before turning his attention back to the cage, watching as more Frogmins crept out of the leaves towards his son. 

Sure, he knew that Pattey wanted the Frogmin mostly for their ability to eat spiders--and their connection to Princes--but he wasn’t a fool to expect that to be the only food source.

Though knowing his luck, whichever one his son picked would be extremely picky and want to eat only the most expensive of the bugs. 

Roman raised an eyebrow. “You already have everything else as well? The cage?” 

Janus rolled his eyes. Nooo he’d just spent months preparing and all day searching for a Frogmin and totally forgot about getting the creature a home to live in. “Yes.”

Roman pursed his lips, an obvious indication that he didn’t like the answer and stood, tilting his head down the aisle to where a variety of cages sat on the shelves. “Show me.”

To Be Continued. Part 4

[dessarious]

Broken Harmony Pt5

Master List 1   Master List 2    Prologue   Beginning   Previous   Next

He slowly leads her to where his father is sitting. He feels nervous for some reason and can’t help but wonder if they're feeding off each others emotions. There’s no reason for him to be nervous. His father will love his Angel, and if he doesn't, that's his problem. Bruce looks up as they get closer and he feels Marinette hesitate and take a deep breath. It was definitely her nerves he was feeling.

“Father I’d like you to meet Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Marinette this is my father, Bruce Wayne.” He waited a moment for recognition to appear but just like with him she seemed to have no clue who his father was.

“Mr. Wayne it’s very nice to meet you. I’m sorry for any anxiety or trouble I’ve caused. If Damian hadn’t been so busy helping me I’m sure he would have gotten back to you sooner. I hope you’ll forgive me for being such a distraction.” Damian caught the shocked look on his father’s face before he hid it. He was certain his own expression wasn’t much better.

“I assure you there is nothing to forgive and please call me Bruce.” Her smile was blinding. Even with the bruises cuts she managed to light up the room. He had no idea how that was even possible. “Do you mind if I ask what happened?” Her face fell immediately and Damian felt an overwhelming need to strangle his father.

“It’s okay Angel. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.” Her eyes were on the floor as she shifted from foot to foot. 

“You can show him the video. It’s probably easier than explaining.” Her voice was small and the song in his head took on an anxious melody.

“Are you sure? It’s really not necessary.” She somehow manages to draw in on herself and look even smaller.

“Yes. It’s out there for anyone to look at and with the police getting involved I doubt it’ll be long until he sees it anyway.”  He hesitated a moment longer, wanting to argue further, but she was right. It was only a matter of time at this point.

With a sigh he pulled out his phone and cued up the video before handing it to his father. Bruce looked concerned at the mention of police but didn’t show any visible reaction to the video. Damian noticed that his entire body seemed more tense though and knew he was pissed. The longer the silence lasted the smaller Marinette seemed to become. Bruce looked at Damian.

“This won’t be happening again.” Marinette flinched and Bruce softened his tone. “I’m so sorry you had to go through something like this. If there’s anything you need please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Marinette finally peeked up at him and started to choke up at the concern she saw. “Thank you sir. That means a lot.” The surprise, relief, and gratefulness that flooded her song worried Damian. Did she have no one in her life she could count on?

“We should probably get you home, I’m sure your parents are worried about you.”

Marinette paled slightly and a look of concern came over her face. “I forgot to call them. They probably think I’m still at school.” Well that explained why they hadn’t come rushing to the hospital. Damian had hadn’t even thought to wonder about that until now.

“That just means less time worrying for them then.” Marinette gave his father a small smile for his words.

“I suppose that’s true. I should probably call them before we get there so my father doesn’t pull me into a bear hug the second he sees me.” Yeah that wouldn’t be pleasant in her current condition. She pulled out her phone to make the call but froze as soon as she unlocked it. Her song turned chaotic and her breathing turned shallow. As her eyes glazed over he realized she was having an anxiety attack.

Damian grabbed her phone and saw a screen full of messages from what he assumed were from her classmates. Messages calling her a bully or saying she got what she deserved. One actually gave detailed advice on how she should kill herself. It took all his self control at that moment to not go back to her school to set it and everyone in it on fire. 

Bruce saw the look on his son's face and took the phone from him, scowling at the screen when he saw it. “Damian.” He slowly turned to look at his father. “I’ll deal with this and call her parents. She needs you now and she needs you calm.” He looked at his Angel and realized she hadn’t moved and was close to hyperventilating. His father was right, he needed to calm down. She needed a rock not an inferno.

He took a few deep breaths to try and dampen his rage and tried to get his song in check. Now that he could hear both of them it was actually easier and he knew exactly what she was hearing and could try to modify accordingly. Maybe that was how she’s been able to mask some of her emotions earlier?

 “Angel?” Nothing. Her eyes held a glazed look and her song felt muted almost. It made him think of a fog rolling in. He put his hands lightly on her shoulders and stooped down to put his face directly in her line of sight. “Marinette? I need you to breathe with me. Can you do that?” She gave a jerky nod and he began taking deep breaths putting as much comfort into his song as he could. She slowly fell into the same rhythm and her song became clearer.

“I’m sorry.” Guilt flooded her song and Damian could only look at her in confusion. “I’ve been telling you all day to try and keep your negative emotions to a minimum and then I go and do this. I should be better than this.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. After the day you’ve had, let alone whatever’s been happening to change your song, you have every right to feel the way you do. The fact that there’s someone out there taking advantage of that doesn’t change it.” 

“Can I hug you?” The words were so soft Damian almost couldn’t make them out. Her song was tinged with hope and apprehension. Eyes tearing up and a tremor in her smile told him how much she needed the contact. 

“Of course.” He opened his arms and she practically fell into him. Her arms went around him and she buried her face in his chest. Damian wasn’t used to hugs in general but he was also afraid of hurting her so he had a long internal debate over what to do with his hands. He finally settled on placing them gently on her waist hoping he didn’t hit a bruise.He wasn’t sure how long they stood there, but by the time she pulled back the front of his shirt was damp.

“We should go. Your Father’s waiting for us.” Both her voice and song sounded a bit stronger. His own melody hummed in contentment that’d he’d actually been able to comfort her. Damian knew how to hurt people. He’d been trained to do so practically since birth. So the fact that his soulmate actually took solace in his presence was a miracle. It made him feel human.

“I suppose we should. He’s probably called your parents by now. And you’re not getting that phone back by the way. He’ll probably want to take it to the police as more evidence and given the little I saw you really need a new number anyway.”

Marinette cocked her head at him giving a look he couldn’t decipher and her song held a bit of wariness again. He frowned in confusion for a moment before putting it together. He did it again. He was taking control of things without asking. Well, more he was assuming his father would but still. How was he supposed to not fix things? People didn’t come to him to just talk and be heard. If someone came to him with a problem he just dealt with it. He didn’t know how to just be there and listen.

Something of his thoughts must have come through in his song for her because her expression softened. “There are numbers in that phone that I’ll need, and some pictures.” She didn’t say anything about changing the number and that worried him but he didn’t want to say anything until he could get his thoughts in order and come up with arguments to convince her rather than just tell her she needed a new number. Actually caring how someone thought about him was going to be exhausting. 

Damian stepped back before holding out his arm. “Shall we then?” She gave him another one of those bright smiles, a real smile, before linking her arm through his. Once they made it outside he felt her take a deep breath and looked down in time to see her wince at the pain it caused. He opened his mouth to speak but she beat him to it.

“I’m okay, really, and I don’t need pain meds.” He closed his mouth and sighed heavily causing her song to lighten considerably. It took him a minute to figure out that she was basically laughing at him internally. “I appreciate that you’re trying.” The words were soft and he almost didn’t catch them.

“I meant what I said. I know your life is your own and I don’t want to take that from you. I just…” He didn’t know how to explain. He wasn’t even sure he understood it himself. 

“You’re used to being in control and having the power to fix things. You also don’t agree with how I tried to handle things, even though you don’t know the full story behind it, which just makes you want to get more involved because you assume you’re right and I’m wrong.”

He blinked down at her, frozen in shock. She got all that from his song? He opened his mouth to deny the last part but closed it abruptly when he realized she was right. He was dead certain he knew how to deal with the situation. The fact that he’d only seen what happened this morning when it had obviously been going on for months never crossed his mind. He knew what was right, end of story. 

But staring at her now, hearing the steadiness of her song, he had to wonder if it was. He had to wonder if there was something he was missing. He just assumed that she needed to be saved and maybe she did but from what exactly? As his thoughts descended father into confusion his Angel laid a hand lightly on his cheek.

“I appreciate your concern, more than you know. But remember that things aren’t always exactly how they appear. I…” She paused and he felt wariness once again. He felt a tightness in his chest and wished he didn’t cause such a reaction. “I would like to have your help but I can’t risk you trying to take control of the situation. There are so many things you don’t understand yet. Those things can hurt you.”

Her expression was so earnest and her song held a certainty he’d rarely felt. He wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact that she was so worried about him. After everything that had happened, it was his safety she was concerned about.  It honestly made him feel like she could see a target on his back that he wasn’t aware of.

“Will you help me understand?” He didn’t know where the words came from and her shock was nothing compared to his that they came out of his mouth. But her smile and the euphoria he felt at the joy radiating out of her song was well worth it.

“Yes, if you’ll let me.”

Master List 1   Master List 2    Prologue   Beginning   Previous   Next

[fuwafuwamedb]

Creating Cu Space (Rin Tohsaka, Cu Chulainn Collective, Medb)

“Medb, you know Cu Chulainn pretty well, don’t you?”

“I do,” the woman drawled, sitting on her bed, working on fixing a base coat that was on her toenails. The two of them had gone into her room for some alone time since, after all, somehow Rin had found herself summoning the woman before any other servant.

The great queen of Connacht had taken her under her wing, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and declaring herself the most powerful of servants. The fluffy coat had been a bit much, but they’d swapped that out with her ascension to full power, even going into something a little more risqué as Medb had gone off for a summer to tease Gudako a little.

It’d been fun to watch her create a prison and build a Connacht. Rin had found herself laughing and going along with it. Who wouldn’t want to be a queen, after all?

The woman looked up, pausing and stretching her legs out across the expanse of the bed.

“What’s on your mind, little princess?”

“I um… Well, you know Prototype Cu Chulainn and Cu Alter are my servants as well.”

The woman smiled. “I’m aware.”

“I can’t get either of them to spend much time with me for bonding purposes. I need to be able to utilize them properly in fights and Gudako has such an easier time.”

More than that though, she’d just summoned Cu Lancer the night before alongside Cu Caster. She was in four Cu Chulainns and she didn’t know how to both tell Medb that she was a Cu magnet nor how to handle training all four of them.

Medb would be reacting strongly to the additions to their support squad for Gudako too. She already climbed all over Cu Alter during events.

“Well,” Medb glanced at her painted nails, humming a bit. “You could always try to create an environment where he feels most comfortable. He was called the hound of Chulainn, after all.”

An environment for Cu Chulainn?

“...think about it. Dog kennels. Chainlink fences. Some muzzles and bindings. You could get something strong like that clay fellow that Master Hakuno has. I tried getting access to them before and they were tempted to give me the chains, but then that bastard avenger was climbing through my sewers and- I don’t know if you’ve ever dealt with him- but that count literally slips through chains like a well-oiled herring…”

If she wanted an environment for Cu, the best situation was to create a room with a watering hole. Get some sunlamps in the room, a fan to blow a nice breeze or maybe some mood coloring to the light so that it’ll look like a nice sunrise or sunset…

“That’s not a bad idea,” Rin murmured.

“Ah! You’re such a smart master!” Medb praised. “Look at you! Give me your nails. I need to test a color- I mean- I’ll paint your toenails for you.”

It took a few days.

The Cu Chulainns were bickering amongst one another, creating a fresh kind of hell as Rin tried to corral them with Medb’s help. It felt like every step forward she made, Medb and her would end up with the group somehow ending up in an all out brawl against one another.

Caster complained about Gae Bolgs.

Alter complained about pleasantries and manners.

Prototype complained about her smoking policy.

And then lancer?

Everything.

“OI OI!” Lancer glared at Medb, leaning down to glare into the woman’s face. “Why the hell did I need to be in your volleyball game?! I told you I don’t care about whether you win or lose!”

“I WAS SUPPOSED TO WIN, YOU SUNBURNT GOBDAW!”

“AGAIN! I DON’T EVEN LIKE YOU, WOMAN! WHY WOULD I BOTHER-“

“MASTER WAS RELYING ON ME! YOU FAILED NOT ONLY ME BUT ALSO RIN! HOW DARE YOU FAIL US BOTH!”

Rin paused, holding her clipboard of expenses in hand as she looked between the two summer dressed servants.

“OI! RIN!” Lancer glared over at her. “TELL THIS WOMAN SHE’S BEIN’ STUPID!”

“What’s going on?”

Medb laughed at her question, brushing back her tied up- was that her typical hairstyle? Why was Medb-

“My sweet princess,” Medb purred, walking over proudly. “I changed my class temporarily to a saber for the summer and was celebrating the vacation time with Gudako and her group when this gobdaw decided to ruin my defending your grace and strength. I think he needs to be refused mana for a while.”

“OI! DON’T MAKE SHIT UP! YOU WERE CAUSIN’ SHIT FOR THOSE OTHER CHALDEANS!”

Medb huffed, brushing a hand through her hair. The smug smile she gave said she’d probably caused a lot of trouble.

Nevermind that though.

“Medb, why don’t you go have some ice cream since you’re back. I have some from home that’s in my mini freezer,” Rin offered.

“Ah, what an angel! My sweet baby,” Medb pressed against her, hugging her tightly as she glanced back at Cu. “Rin’s practically family to me, Cu. Like my child.”

The man gagged.

“What a jealous mutt,” Medb murmured, heading out of the room.

“Rin, you know that-“

“Cu,” Rin cut him off, motioning him to come over. “Can you gather your other selves over? I um… I need to talk to you all.”

The man frowned, pulling out his phone and sending a quick message out.

“Thanks.”

“I don’t like this, Rin.”

“It’ll all work out in the end. You know I always have the perfect plan in mind,” she reminded him.

“Uh huh. That’s why the Chaldeans won’t let you near the computers, right?”

Damn.

She threw him a look for that, but the others were running full-strength to her side now.

“Master,” alter growled. “If this is about the destruction in Medb’s room-“

“The spells can be explained on your walls,” Caster threw out.

“I did drink the liquor,” Proto told her bluntly.

The other three glared at him, earning a shrug.

“Honesty helps?”

Alter and Caster smacked him, leaving her to sigh.

“Guys,” Rin addressed. “Come with me.”

She led them through her section of Chaldea, towards the very edge of the building. It took time since she had needed to save up the QP she’d earned and negotiate the room with Gudako. She’d merged some of her requests with Hakuno’s own, building up the result until it could be possible.

She paused at the double doors, looking back to see the four Cu Chulainns looking as pale as paper.

“…Look uh,” Lancer scratched at the back of his neck a bit, stepping forward. “I know you and Medb have a bond of sorts goin’ on, but the woman’s a scoundrel. She ain’t some kind and strong Celt like you think. She threw a war just because of some cattle and she sold her daughter and caused her death. She’s-“

“This isn’t about Medb.”

Caster shook his head, eyeing the thick doors carefully before he looked to her. “Look, Rin. We can work this out. Whatever you’ve got in mind… We’re amicable. You wanna learn runes? You and I could work one on one with them.”

The others elbowed the man before Rin shook her head.

“We can do that later. First, I need you guys in here-“

Alter stepped forward, grabbing her shoulders.

“You aren’t burning me. I’m the only thing that stands between you and chaos.”

Burnin-

“What in God’s name are you talking about? I’m not burning you!”

She looked to the others, noting the sighs of relief.

“GUYS!”

Medb was right about them being dumbasses.

“I made you a space, you idiots!” Rin pushed the doors open, showing off the garden space with it’s five story high space and its expansive space. The ceiling and one wall were entirely made of glass, the other side showing the rough mountainside that they had built the room right into.

More importantly-

“I made a fishing area over there,” Rin told them, motioning to the selection of rods and tackle boxes. “I figured it would give us the chance to spend time together for once like I normally do with Medb. Why the hell would I burn any of you?”

The group hauled her up, carrying her over to the waters and looking into the waters to see the large schools of fish.

“Damn,” Caster rubbed his hands together. “Someone grab me one of the fishing poles. Let’s do this.”

The others nodded before Rin watched Alter run along the short dock. His body soared in the air a moment before he splashed into the water.

“OI!” The others all but dropped her into Proto’s arms. “DON’T SCARE THE FISH!”

“Alone at last,” Proto purred. “Looks like you’re falling for me. Literally.”

“Proto-“ The man held her close, shushing her softly. “PROTO!”

“Just a moment. I need the good luck you give. I’ve got a cute good luck charm in ya, Rin.”

“Y-you jerk! Stop teasing me!”

She’d never get these guys to work with her at this rate. Two were already yelling at a third for ruining the fishing time by swimming through and chomping on a large cod.

And then there was Proto.

Maybe Medb would have other ideas.

[miyomiikonran]

Whumptober Day 1

Extra rules: Each short story will be between 500-1000 words and will include at least one of my or @ironic-artist's OCs.

Today's theme: Let's hang out sometime

Choosen prompt: Shackled

Universe: Criminal/mafia au

Character: Takashi

Trigger warnings: -

Word count: ~800

For more notes please look at the end!

___________________________________________

Routine always means something else for everyone. For some, it's what they hate the most- repeatable tasks mindlessly done everyday, often bringing only boredom and fatigue. Wake up, take shower, eat breakfast in hurry and then spend most of your day in work or school, only to do the same thing all over again tommorow. For others, it's the sign of stability they yearn for. Everyday's the same, no trouble can suprise you and stress you out, if you know exactly what's gonna happen next.

Takashi was neither of those. Routine of any kind had almost no place in his current life. Almost, excluding one particular event that kept repeating... Banging on the door, which was always waking him up at early morning. He knew what's gonna happen the moment he heard that, so he just followed up, opened the door. Same faces, same kind of deal. Dress up, take his wallet and put on some shoes while the guys wait for him. Once again he gets fancy bracelets on his wrists and a free ride to friendly neighbourhood police station.

Man knew the drill just as good as officers knew him. He was ending up in arrest once a month on avarage, but not even once they managed to keep him for longer. Always a suspect, never proved guilty, never enough evidence for that. Even unusual, albino-like appearance didn't make it easier. Fingerprints? Never matched. Video surveilance? Either none of cameras would reach crime scene or it wasn't functional at the time. Nothing suspicious was ever found at his flat or by his side if they catched him outside. Only witnesses would sometimes provide description that would match, but it wasn't enough when they rarely were able to see face in details. Not even the most determined, or maybe pissed off officers had much hope left at this point... Everyone knew he was suspicious and who knows if not involved in some of these cases, but nothing could be done without evidence to back it up.

What was the worst though, was his attitude. He always refused to answer any questions without counsellor and it was always the same guy coming to help him out, maybe some buddy or something, it seemed like it. Carefree bastard most of the time was taking a nap in his cell before he came! Just like now! Like nothing was happening! Or more like, he was sure nothing will happen.

Albino in cell chuckled quietly hearing how irritated one of officers sounded like while complaining to his coworker, thinking he's already asleep. It was so satisfying to hear. He almost could get used to overall inconvenience if only he could hear more of that each time he ends up arrested. They can look as much as they want. He knew it's all in vain. Boss already took care of anything that could've been left at the scene. Poor, naive dudes had no idea how far his connections could reach… Such a pity. But now it's time for a nap, cus they obviously had to wake him up at 6 o'clock, never even a minute late.

Few hours later, counsellor finally came, with same, indifferent but slightly tired face and so questioning began. Same shit everytime. Name, surname, adress, date of birth. Witness saw you in close area to where the murder occured. What were you doing then and there. Is there anyone who can confirm. Do you know what it is. Nooooope, no idea officer, never seen a broken window in my entire life! Nope, no idea who's that guy. No I never met him. No I didn't broke all of his windows, don't I look like a angel? I was peacefully coming home from club, never been to a party, officer? Could these eyes lie? It was hard to keep straight face seeing him get irritated again. His swinging on chair seemed to work wonders in that matter. Counsellor rolled his eyes and sighed while writing something in his notepad. He always was doing his own notes just in case, no matter how many times it happens. Such perfectionist in his job.

Finally, the happy hour came next day. After court's hearing, he was obviously let go. Just to spite officers a bit more, he waved them on his way out, before he went on his way home. He was right outside his block of flats when his phone called. Boss.

- What's up, did you get worried about me~?

- Very funny. I want you in my office around 8 PM, I have work for you.

- Already? I just got out…- Takashi burked a bit grumpily, his good mood immidiately gone.

- Well, happens. Get some rest, I'll give you more details once you're here.

- Cooool… - he just hung up after it and hid his phone. It's gonna be a long day...

___________________________________________

Oh well, first one was pretty easy as it's Takashi, one of my favs, I talked about him a lot so you can look up his tag if you want. This scene came up in my head as soon as I read prompts, mostly because I had it planned for a long time already, so it was pretty easy to write. About universe itself, it's pretty much what people usually have in mind when they create all sorts of mafia/criminal AUs. I really wanted to show off Takashi's cockiness and trust in his "Boss". For now it was just a brief mention, but it's Ironic's character Hidemichi, Takashi's long-time friend, which is why he's acting pretty casual towards him. You can check him out at Ironic's page. For now, I can promise they're gonna appear again pretty soon~ c:

Also, just to be clear, I'm no writer and this is purely for fun. I'm aware it's not really good quality material.

[antecedentlypod]

EPISODE 3 TRANSCRIPT

-opening music-

LORRIE

Alright- [soft movement sounds] recording time. Reeecording time. One, two, three. [flip through the book, door opens]

Ah- fuck-

FISH

Oh! Shit- sorry- were you in the middle of something? Uh...sorry. I made lunch. Bahn mi! Y’know, the one I begged my brother for the recipe of? Uh- do you want some? I mean, I can’t guarantee it’s gonna be great ‘cause...it’s me...but it is getting cold! So...

LORRIE

I was just about to start recording, but lunch sounds...awesome, actually! But before we go, do you want to introduce yourself to the mic? I decided I wanted to keep the extra recordings and stuff, just for… me, I guess? Like- kinda like a journal. [brief pause]

My therapist did recommend I start journaling, but writing out my thoughts is hard as fuck. Talking into a microphone is much easier.

FISH

Oh. Okay, so just like...lamer scrapbooking- Yeah! Yeah, I guess. [taps the mic] uh. Check check? ...Right, okay. So, my name is Fish. Just- just Fish. I picked it out myself, actually, ‘cus i really like fish? Y’know? Uh, stonefish specifically but...I think sharks are really cool- are sharks fish? Anyway! [drifting off] I like she/her or they/them pronouns...um...that’s about it. Anyway, I’m here to make sure that Mr. Skeptic over here isn’t going haywire, given all the bullshit I’ve been hearing recently.

LORRIE

[soft laugh] That’s...enough, that’s good. Maybe I should do one of those myself. [pause, deep breath] Okay, uh. Hi, I’m Lorrie. I also picked that name out, sounds like a bird name. There is a bird named Lorrie, but it’s spelled differently. And it’s really colorful, which is the opposite of me! Um, I mainly use he/him or it/its pronouns, they/them is okay sometimes, but it’s best to stay away from it? And I’m not going haywire! Things are just… a little bit weird. It’s probably just hallucinations, it’s nothing.

FISH

A little bit? With all- [sigh, in a sarcastic tone] Okay, fine. Reaaaal convincing. Yeah! Believe that, 100%. ‘Kay, anyway... [laughter]

LORRIE

[sigh] Listen- just. Just shut the fuck up. [more laughter] I’m excited for lunch, though, I don’t remember the last time I ate, actually-

FISH

That’s...not ideal, but kind of the point. So...oh! Well, hopefully you ate before getting that tattoo, did uh- it looks...new. When did you…? [sigh] Okay. What’s with the eyes?

LORRIE

I think they’re cool. I got the tattoo a couple days ago, I’m pretty sure I got something to eat before it? Not a big deal.

FISH

[pause, dumbfounded and concerned] A couple days? Okay, holy shit, Lor. Let’s go get something to eat, okay? Lunch is getting cold, so.

LORRIE

Y-Yeah, that sounds good. Let me ju-just- [muffled movement, recording stops]

LORRIE

Aaaand we’re back. Lunch has been eaten, I feel- a lot better, honestly, and I think it’s a good time to record? [papers rustling] Um...where…? [collects himself] Uh, Fish left for work a little bit ago, which means the only idiot in the house with me is my dog! I’ll be able to work now, I think. Even if reading it makes me feel all- fuckin’ weird. It’s not a- not a great feeling. Not a great feeling at all. Fuck. Okay. Um. Take one of Rumpels-

[cut]

[weary] Take...five? I think? Of Rumpelstiltskin.

[cut]

Take nine of Rumplestiltskin. Read by Lorrie Adams.

RUMPELSTILTSKIN

Once upon a time, there was a miller who was poor, but he had a beautiful daughter. Now it happened that he was talking with the king one time, and to make himself seem important he said to the king: "I have a daughter who can spin straw into gold."

"That's an art that pleases me;” the king replied, “if your daughter is as talented as you say, bring her to my castle tomorrow and I will put her to the test." 

When the maiden was brought to him he led her into a room that was filled with straw. There he gave her a spinning-wheel and a spindle and said: "Now get to work, if you don’t spin straw into gold by morning, then you must die." Then he locked the room himself, and she remained inside all alone.

 The miller's poor daughter sat there feeling close to her wit’s end, for she knew nothing of spinning straw into gold, and her fear grew greater and greater. When she began to weep, the door suddenly opened and a little man entered, saying: "Good evening, Mistress Miller, why are you weeping so?" 

“Oh,” answered the maiden, "I'm supposed to spin straw into gold, and I don't know how." 

The little man then said: "What will you give me if I spin it for you?" 

"My necklace," the maiden said. The little man took the necklace and sat down at the wheel, and whizz, whizz, whizz, three times round the spool was full. Then he put on another one, and whizz, whizz, whizz, the second one was full; and so it went on until morning, until all the straw was spun and all the spools were filled with gold. The king appeared right at the sunrise and when he saw the gold he was surprised and pleased, but his heart grew even greedier. He locked the miller’s daughter in another room, one that was even larger than the first, and he ordered her to spin all the straw into gold if she valued her life.

The maiden did not know what to do and began to weep; then once again the door opened and the little man appeared and said: "What will you give me if I spin the straw into gold for you?" 

"The ring from my finger," answered the maiden. The little man took the ring, began to work away at the wheel again, and by morning he had spun all the straw into shining gold. The king was extremely pleased by the sight; but his lust for gold was still not satisfied. So he had the miller's daughter brought into an even larger room, and said to her: "You must have all this spun to gold tonight, but if you succeed, you shall become my wife." To himself he thought: Even though she’s just a miller's daughter, I’ll never find a richer woman anywhere in the world. 

When the maiden was alone the little man came again for the third time and asked: "What will you give me if I spin the straw for you once more?" 

"I have nothing left to give," answered the maiden. 

"Then promise me your first child when you become queen." 

"Who knows whether it will ever come to that?" thought the miller's daughter, and since she knew no other way out of her predicament, she promised the little man what he had demanded, and in return the little man spun the straw into gold once again. When the king came in the morning and found everything he had wished, he married her, and the miller's daughter became a queen.

After a year she gave birth to a beautiful child, and the little man had disappeared from her mind. But now he suddenly appeared in her room and said: "Now give me what you promised." The queen was horrified, and offered the little man all the treasures of the kingdom if he would let her keep her child. But the little man replied: "No, something living is more important to me than all the treasures in the world." Then the queen began to grieve and weep so much that the little man felt sorry for her. "I'll give you three days time," he said, "if you guess my name by the third day, you shall keep your child."

The queen spent the entire night trying to recall all the names she had ever heard. She also sent a messenger out into the country to inquire high and low names there were. On the following day when the little man appeared, she began with Kaspar, Melchior, Balzar, and listed all the names she knew, one after the other, but to all of them the little man said: "That's not my name." The second day she had her servants ask around in the neighboring area which names people used, and she came up with the most unusual and strangest names when the little man appeared. "Is your name Ribs of Beef? Or Muttonchops? Or Laced Leg?" But he always replied: “That’s not my name.” On the third day the messenger returned and reported, "I couldn't find a single new name, but as I was climbing a high mountain at the edge of the forest, where the fox and the hare say goodnight to each other, I saw a small cottage, and in front of the cottage was a fire, and around the fire danced a ridiculous little man who was hopping on one leg and screeching:

“Today I'll brew, tomorrow I'll bake,

Soon I'll have the queen's namesake;

Oh, how hard it is to play my game,

For Rumpelstiltskin is my name."

And you can imagine how happy the queen was when she heard the name. As soon as the little man entered and asked: “What’s my name, your highness?” 

She responded first by guessing: "Is your name Cunce?" "No." "Is your name Heinz?" "No." "Can your name be...Rumpelstiltskin?"

"The devil told you! the devil told you!" the little man screamed, and he stamped so ferociously with his right foot that his leg went deep into the ground up to his waist. Then he grabbed the other foot angrily with both hands and ripped himself in two.

LORRIE

[yawn] There’s another number for me to read. [stuttering] Another story. I didn’t- say this in my personal introduction, but I’m [trying to snap himself out of it. literally] working for like, something akin to an audiobook company? These are my- story recordings. Not perfect, by any means, but they’re alright enough, and not really ever my final takes. Um. I like this job. Fully remote, surprisingly good pay for it being paid by commission mostly- I don’t know...why people would want these stories read out, but that’s beside the point. I make enough to get a pretty nice apartment, for me and Fish. They sent me this collection of stories to read from, it’s in this [stuttering and snapping again] big book- this big paperback book, um, and they...they- I get emails with the story numbers that they want me to read? Because they’re all numbered in this book. And the stories are never more than a couple pages at a time, which...is kinda weird because the recordings end up being pretty short that way? I don’t know if they want...more from me for it, but that’s also beside the point.

Anyways. Take 1 of Briar Rose, read by Lorrie Ada-

[very tired] Take 3 of Briar Ro-

Ppppbbbt. [hyping himself up] Okay. Okay, you can do this, Lorrie. It’s not that hard, you’re just talking into a fucking microphone. Okay. Okay. Hm. [drinks something. water..?] Take 13 of Briar Rose, read by Lorrie Adams. 

BRIAR ROSE

In times of old there lived a king and queen, and every day they said, "Oh, if only we had a child!" yet they never had one.

Then one day, as the queen went out bathing, a frog happened to crawl ashore and say to her: “Your wish shall be fulfilled. Before the year is out, you shall give birth to a daughter.”

The frog’s prediction came true, and the queen gave birth to a girl who was so beautiful that the king was overjoyed and decided to hold a great feast. Not only did he invite his relatives, friends, and acquaintances, but also the wise women in the hope that they would be generous and kind to his daughter. There were thirteen wise women in his kingdom, but he only had twelve golden plates from which they could eat. Therefore, one of them had to remain home. The feast was celebrated with tremendous splendor, and when it drew to a close, the wise women bestowed their miraculous gifts upon the child. One gave her virtue, another beauty, the third wealth, and so on until they had given her nearly everything one could possibly wish for in the world. When eleven of them had offered their gifts, the thirteenth suddenly entered the hall. She wanted to get revenge for not having been invited, and without greeting anyone or looking around, she cried out with a loud voice: “In her fifteenth year, the princess shall prick herself with a spindle and fall down dead.” That was all she said. Then she turned around and left the hall.

Everyone was horrified, but the twelfth wise woman stepped forward. She still had her wish to make, and although she could not undo the evil spell, she could nevertheless soften it. “The princess shall not die,” she said, “instead she shall fall into a deep sleep for one hundred years.”

Since the king wanted to guard his dear child against such a catastrophe, he issued an order that all the spindles in his kingdom were to be burned. Meanwhile, the gifts of the wise women fulfilled themselves in every way. The girl was so beautiful, polite, kind, and sensible, that whoever encountered her could not help but adore her. Now, on the day she turned fifteen it happened that the king and queen were not in the palace, so she wandered all over the place and explored as many rooms and chambers as she pleased. She eventually came to an old tower, climbed it’s narrow, winding staircase, and came to a small door. A rusty key was stuck in the lock, and when she turned it, the door sprang open and she saw an old woman in a little room sitting with a spindle and busily spinning flax.

“Good day, old granny!” said the princess, “What are you doing there?”

“I’m spinning,” said the old woman, and she nodded her head.

“What’s the thing that’s bobbing around in such a funny way?” Asked the maiden, and she took the spindle and wanted to spin too. But just as she touched the spindle, the magic spell began working and she pricked her finger with it. The very moment she felt the prick, she fell down on the bed that was standing there and was overcome by a deep sleep. This sleep soon spread throughout the entire palace. The king and queen had just returned home, and when they entered the hall they fell asleep, as did all the people in their court. They were followed by the horses in the stables, the dogs in the courtyard, the pigeons on the roof, and the flies on the wall. Even the fire flickering in the hearth became tired and fell asleep. The roast stopped sizzling, and the cook, who was just about to pull the kitchen boy’s hair because he had done something wrong, let him go and fell asleep. Finally, the wind died down so that not a single leaf stirred on the trees outside the castle. Soon, a briar hedge began to grow all around the castle, and it grew higher each year. Eventually, it surrounded and covered the entire castle, so that it was no longer visible. Not even the flag on the roof could be seen. Eventually the princess became known as “beautiful, sleeping Briar Rose,” and a tale about her began circulating throughout the country. From time to time, princes tried to break through and get to the castle. However, this was impossible, because the thorns clung together tightly as though they had hands, and the young men got stuck there. Indeed, they could not pry themselves loose and died miserable deaths. 

After many, many years had gone by, a prince came to this country and heard an old man talking about a briar hedge. Supposedly, there was a castle standing behind the hedge and in the castle there was a remarkably beautiful princess named Briar Rose, who had been sleeping for a hundred years along with the king and queen and their entire court. The old man also knew from his grandfather that many princes had come and had tried to break through the briar hedge, but they had got stuck and died wretched deaths. “I am not afraid!” said the prince, “I intend to see the beautiful Briar Rose!”

The good old man tried his best to dissuade him, but the prince would not heed his word. Now the hundred years had just ended, and the day of which Briar Rose was to wake up again had arrived. When the prince approached the briar hedge he found nothing but little flowers that opened of their own accord and let him through, like a hedge. In the courtyard, he saw the horses and the spotted hunting dogs lying asleep. The pigeons were perched on the roof and had tucked their heads beneath their wings. When he entered the palace, the flies were asleep on the wall, the cook was still holding his hand as if he wanted to grab the kitchen boy, and the maid was sitting in front of the black chicken that she was about to pluck. As the prince continued walking, he saw the entire court lying asleep in the hall, with the king and queen beside the throne. Then he moved on, and everything was so quiet he could hear himself breathe. 

Finally, he came to the tower and opened the door to the small room where Briar Rose slept. There she lay in her beauty, so marvelous that he could not take his eyes off of her. And then, he leaned over and gave her a kiss, and when his lips touched hers Briar Rose opened her eyes, woke up, and looked at him fondly. After that, they went downstairs together and the king and queen woke up along with the entire court and they all looked at each other in amazement. Soon, the horses in the courtyard stood up and shook themselves. The hunting dogs jumped around and wagged their tails, the pigeons on the roof lifted their heads from beneath their wings, looked up and flew off into the fields. The flies on the wall continued crawling, the fire in the kitchen flared up, flickered, and cooked the meat, the roast began to sizzle again, and the cook gave the kitchen boy such a box on the ear that he let out a cry while the maid finished plucking the chicken.

The wedding of the prince with Briar Rose was celebrated with great splendor, and lived happily to the end of their day. 

LORRIE

[with a bad taste in his mouth] Reaaaally can’t say I’m a big fan of the whole, like...lack of consent thing? Like, who just kisses some sleeping 115 year old? Like jesus fuck, get some manners! Like, why didn’t the prince just...try shaking her? Why did he just immediately kiss her- what the FUCK- 

Anyways, I couldn’t stop yawning during that recording, if that says anything about my thoughts on it. I hope I didn’t put you to sleep, at least. Whoever ends up listening to this. I think I need to go to bed. Goodnight, end recording.

[the-lupine-sojourner]

I Promised, Didn’t I? [Traitor(?)!Reader/Izuku Commission] [Fantasy!AU]

Ta-da! Here it is at long last, @elite-guard-hardygal​!! So sorry to keep you waiting so long! TT^TT

Anyway, Hardygal commissioned this fanfiction based on some ideas they had and the song ‘Not while I’m Around’ from the Sweeny Todd movie. I like the song and the idea behind the commission, so I was eager to get to work on it, but then I got distracted with work and Miraculous Ladybug cus I was too curious as to what was going on so I binged the latest episodes--anyway, on to the commission! 

If you want one for yourself, all you need do is ask! Here’s Info on My Commissions. 

As always, I give the word count for my commissions. This one sits at 3807-ish cus there was just so much story there, I couldn’t stop writing! XD 

Ok, that’s all for now! Hope you all had an amazing Thanksgiving! :)

God Bless and Happy Holidays!

~The Lupine Sojourner

(Here’s a cute Izuku GiF cus why not?)

There he was; Eijiro Kirishima, the one you’d been sent to observe and eventually turn over to your boss, Kai Chisaki. 

He and his group were...less than thrilled that a rogue barbarian king named Katsuki Bakugo and his companion, Eijiro, and their group of friends had been taking down his thugs and operations left and right, and as such Kai himself had sat you down and told you about sending his stealthier cronies to track and observe Eijiro and his friends, taking note of their relationships and which member would cause the most damage if they were to be...removed. 

Eijiro was, apparently, one of the most innocent and a key player in keeping another group, led by Izuku Midoriya (another target, turns out), in fairly good terms with each other.

Eijiro was also married, after a somewhat fast-paced romance, to one of the most powerful magic-wielding adventurers in recent memory, Takara Yamada. 

Only Shoto Todoroki, a rather reserved fellow who ran from his princely duties to find a cure for a curse that befell him, his fiance and bodyguard, Momo Yaoyorozu, and Izuku Midoriya (who was trying to find the missing king, Toshinori Yagi) could best Takara in terms of power and the way they use it. 

The Chisaki told you to help hunt down Eijiro to unbalance Takara and the other powerhouses so it would be easier to kill them. 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

You look up. You’d been so wrapped up in your thoughts you hadn’t realized you were standing in the middle of the street, staring into space. 

“Oh, y-yeah. I’m fairly new to the area, and was just getting my bearings. I look like that when I’m concentrating.” 

Eijiro smiles. “Well, um, do you have a place to stay tonight?” He asks. 

You chuckle. “Yes. The tavern, for now.” 

“You should stay with me and my wife instead! She’d love you!” You act like you were surprised, but thanks to Chisaki you knew this was typical for Eijiro. 

He always strove to help those he could. Poor naive boy.

Well, it would provide you an in with your targets. “Oh, no. I couldn’t ask you to do that. Really, I’m fine. I’m asking around for jobs, and I’ve got plenty of money to last me till I got a steady job.” 

“It’s honestly no trouble. Takara would love to meet you.” You act like you were flattered and shyly accepting of the generous offer, and you could genuinely appreciate what this meant to him and his new wife. 

Chisaki had even told you of rumors about Takara and what would happen in around 6 months. 

You hope that rumor wasn’t true. You’d hate to make a child an orphan like you were before Chisaki snapped you up. 

“Oh! I just realized; I don’t know your name.” 

“Oh you’re right! And I don’t know yours, come to think of it.” You give the name you were told to use, Koi Dirisk. 

“Lovely name. I’m Eijiro Kirishima.” 

“Pleasure.” You shake hands and try not to think of the future too much.

=#=#=#=#=

“Darling, I’m home!” Eijiro calls, smiling broadly as he walks into the house. 

“Perfect time! That deer you got this morning is just about cooked.” Comes a female voice, approaching. 

Then, Takara comes into your view. She was...prettier than you thought she’d be. The description hadn’t done her justice, though you suppose that was either to avoid attachments or because the Chisaki were focused on the basics rather than her beauty. 

“Oh. Eijiro, you didn’t mention a friend.” She says and you can tell she’s surprised but not angry or about to throw you out. 

“She’s new to the area. Her name’s Koi. I offered to save her some money until she gets her feet under her.” Takara nods, smiling warmly at you and you feel your heart clench at the prospect of what will happen. You glance at her stomach as she walks over. It was starting to show, her pregnant belly. Just enough that you could confirm the rumors about Takara. 

“Well, alright. We’ll see what we can do.” The two of you shake hands and you almost feel sick at the thought of turning this young bride into a widow so soon after her nuptials. And the kid would grow up without their wonderful parents.

And yet, you had to do what Chisaki said, or you’d be the next victim of his awful magic, creating deadly spikes out of the ground or simply destroying the body from within. 

You’d been a witness in many executions now, and yet you hadn’t turned him in. You couldn’t. 

You subtly shake yourself as Takara offers to show you around and to your borrowed room. You had to play the part for now. 

The house was amazing, cozy and charming. The perfect place for a family, complete with a room for the upcoming child. 

As soon as the tour was over, Takara returned to the kitchen and finished the meal preparation. 

“So what brings you into town?” That question had come up fairly quickly as you ate dinner. 

“Ah you know; traveling the world, seeing the sights, getting some exploring done before it’s too late.” That was what Kai wanted you to say. You felt the food turn to dust and ashes in your mouth as you lied. 

This poor family would be torn apart and they had no idea. 

=#=#=#=#=

“You established contact with Kirishima?” 

“Yes.” You report in a small side room in a local tavern a day or so later. 

“Good. Does he trust you yet?” 

“Not sure. We’ve barely begun a friendship, much less trust at this stage. We’re going to do some magic practice later. That should help.” 

“Y/N, are you having second thoughts?” Kai asks suddenly, leaning over a little. 

“Not at all. I just noticed Takara Kirishima is in fact pregnant. She seems to be in the first trimester.” 

“Is that a problem?” You knew the right answer. 

“No. Just thought you should know.” 

“It’ll make it easier for us to take care of her when the time comes. Good work.” You nod, swallowing subtly. 

“Right. I’ll report to you again when I find the others in the group containing Izuku Midoriya.” Kai Chisaki nods, humming. 

“See that you do, Y/N.” 

“Yes, sir.” You reply, knowing the right answer.

=#=#=#=#=

Things only got worse as you were introduced to Izuku Midoriya. 

He was even dressed like a proper gentleman, acting so polite you felt your heart clench at having to look at him like an enemy, scanning for weakness. 

And so far, his main weakness was his easygoing, friendly, fairly trusting nature. Practically as soon as you were introduced to him, he was shaking your hand and talking about how ‘any friend of Eijiro and Takara’s is a friend of mine’. 

You wanted to throw up. How could these people trust you so easily? Didn’t they want to know more about you? 

So far, you’d been all but blindly taken in, asked the bare minimum of questions, and accepted as a new ally and friend by these people. 

You tried to just continue like nothing was wrong. 

=#=#=#=#=

“You sure know how to go on the offense there, Koi.” Izuku notes, smiling that damn warm smile of his as you two sparred. 

“Well, my instructor was a victim of assault. It made her paranoid, and she passed that on to me. She told me ‘end the fight before the tricks up their sleeves come out’.” 

Most of that was true. She was a victim of assault, but for being a villain, not in a random act of violence.

Izuku pauses. “That’s fair advice.” He concedes. “I wish I could help everyone, you know. It just doesn’t work that way sometimes.” 

“But when you see something, you do something, right?” 

“Of course.” 

“That’s all anyone can do, if they even decide to do anything.” You weren’t sure when you started getting emotional, but here you were. “Most people are too afraid.” 

“Well, yeah, but the ones that aren’t afraid can mean a life is saved and a villain is apprehended.” 

You weren’t sure, but you’d swear he was saying something between the lines. A subtle chill went down your spine. Did he know? Or was it just coincidence?

You couldn’t be sure, so you made a few solid excuses to avoid him for the next few days. You had to get your story straight in case you were questioned. 

Kai was pleased you were in contact with his next victim already, and had sparred with him. “Did he have any weaknesses in his fighting style that you noticed?” You shook your head. 

“Not many. He’s sharp as a sword and quick as a spooked rabbit. We’ll have to be quicker and hit harder.” 

“Excellent insight, as always, Y/N.” Kai smiles, curled finger lifting your chin to make you look at him. “You know you’re indispensable to me, dear. No one else has quite your ability to blend into any role I assign them.” 

You nod, forcing a smile. “I try, sir.”

“So get out there and keep trying.” You nod and leave, trying not to let your stormy emotions show. You were growing to hate this assignment with a fiery passion. 

You’d killed people and betrayed many others to their deaths, but never had you had to be a part of a man’s death with a pregnant wife. Normally, it was single people you dealt with. 

At night, you cried yourself to sleep as quietly as you could. Surely, there had to be some way to save Eijiro, Izuku, and their friends, right? 

You couldn’t think of anything and it was tearing you apart. You hated every mission you were sent on, but what choice did you have? Kai Chisaki had practically raised you, lording that over you to manipulate you into doing his bidding. 

Somehow, you had to save these people. 

Gods above, they were your age! How were you supposed to help kill them?! 

=#=#=#=#=

“Hey, are you okay?” Takara asks over breakfast. You probably looked like shit.

You spent too long crying and still looked like it. 

“Didn’t sleep much last night.” 

“Anything you care to talk about?” 

For a fleeting moment, you thought of saying ‘screw it’ and telling them the truth, but that was suicide and these people would die, anyway. “Not really. Sorry.” 

“No, that’s okay. It’s not easy opening up. I get it.” Takara assures you gently, smiling warmly at you. “Just know you got two ears whenever you need to talk to me, okay?” 

You fake a smile and continue eating. “I appreciate that.” Unfortunately, it didn’t spawn any plans to allow everyone in this scenario to survive. 

=#=#=#=#=

The cruelest part of Kai’s undercover assignments he gave you was the few weeks you were given to get to know the victims and earn enough of their trust that they’d follow you into the trap the Chisaki laid out for them. 

Usually, he talked you into hating the people by portraying himself as the victim, claiming these people betrayed him and left him no choice but to seek retribution. 

And you always took his side after all he’d done for you. 

But now...now you weren’t so sure.

How could killing people your age, who were just settling into life and starting families, be in any way a good thing, like Kai was claiming?

He’d just given you the week’s notice so you can get a plan for how and when you would lead the targets into a trap.

“Hey, are you okay?” Izuku asks, sitting beside you in the cool evening air atop a hill. About an hour ago, you’d probably have seen a gorgeous sunset if it weren’t for the tears going down your face. 

You subtly wipe them away. “Yeah. You?” He nods, gently wrapping his arm around your shoulder. Your cheeks flush a little. Izuku was so...genuine and friendly. 

He didn’t deserve to die. 

“I think I am. Did you come up here to watch the sunset?” He asks, and you can tell he knew precisely why you were here.

“Something like that.” You reply glumly. You’d gotten closer to Izuku over the few weeks you’d known him, and you hated yourself for getting so caught up in the part you were playing that you could almost forget why you wore the mask. 

Almost. 

“You know, I’ve always liked taking moments to just sit and...be myself. Everyone looks to me as a leader and I hate to let people down.” 

You nod. “So you only let yourself feel things when you’re alone.” You murmur. 

Izuku squeezes your shoulder gently. 

“You can be yourself around me, you know that, right?” You bite your lip. 

“I know.” It was the right answer...right? 

Izuku leans his head on yours, and you lose your train of thought. 

“You ever feel like we were destined to meet?” He asks. “I mean--um...not necessarily romantically, just- -I- -ah, not that I am opposed to that, Koi! I just- -crap I made it weird…” You laugh. 

“Izuku, I feel the same.” It wasn’t destiny, though; it was Kai. However, you couldn’t deny a feeling that beyond Kai, like maybe there was something there. You two seemed like strings being woven together for a tapestry. 

“Oh, good.” He chuckles nervously as you readjust yourself against his strong chest. “What I was trying to say is, um…” He clears his throat, “nothing’s gonna harm you. Not while I’m around…” He sings softly all of a sudden. 

You sigh. Even his voice was amazing. Honestly, given time, you may have fallen truly in love with him, but...he was a target of the Chisaki. 

There’s no way he’d survive. 

“I’m sorry. It’s something my mother would sing to me when I was little.” He apologizes. “It was dumb, I’m sorry.” You chuckle. Maybe, just for one night, you could let go and truly enjoy yourself. You snuggle up to Izuku. 

“No, no. Go on. I’m sorry.” 

Izuku starts over, and continues from there. “Demons are prowling everywhere, nowadays. I’ll send em howling, I don’t care. I got ways.” You smile, almost believing him. If he somehow, by some miracle, survived the week, you could see yourself maybe giving him a shot, regardless of the consequences. “No one’s gonna hurt you, no one’s gonna dare. Others can desert you. Not to worry! Whistle, I’ll be there! Demons will charm you with a smile, for a while, but in time...” That, you felt, was Izuku talking like he knew about Kai and your undercover work. In case he didn’t, you snuggle closer as if charmed by his words. And you were, but you were also a little wary. If he knew, it might mean danger for you, especially if Kai found out. “Nothing can harm you. Not while I’m around…” 

You two sit for a moment in silence, enjoying each other’s company.

Your heart ached to tell him everything while part of you knew better so you sat there, wondering what to do. It’s then you reach a decision.

Izuku was one of the most powerful magic wielders to date. If anyone stood a chance at saving himself and his friends, it was Izuku. But only if he knew it was coming. 

“Hey, um, Izuku..?” You begin, wondering how he would react. As long as he survived, though, it didn’t matter what he thought of you. You could rebuild trust eventually, but only if he survived. “I don’t want anything to harm you, either. Not...not while I’m around.” You weren’t singing, you were looking him in the eye. You had to do this. You knew it was the right thing to do. “I- -”

“Whatever it is, Koi, you can talk to me. I want to help you. Just tell me what you need to overcome.” You take a breath. “Koi, I won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise.” 

He had no idea...no idea you were about to shatter his perception of you. 

“I don’t want to hide anything from you…” You began. “But this...this is big.” Izuku perks up now that he’d started to crack at the armor you put around your secrets. He let you talk, his eyes betraying his eagerness to know more. You closed your eyes. “I...when I was young, maybe 6 or so, my village was attacked and burned by a villain group that was trying to get themselves started. For days afterward, I wandered around, homeless and an orphan…” You were shaking. You had never ever confided in anyone like this, and yet...you knew you had to keep going. Izuku’s warm, steady hand on yours helped ground you. You opened your eyes focused them on him and somehow found the strength to keep going. “And then someone took me in. I didn’t know it at first, but he was a villain. He wasn’t famous yet, and he hadn’t done anything flashy or impressive, but his magic was devastatingly powerful and he had convinced many people to join him.” Izuku’s eyes go wide. 

He could fill in a few blanks just fine, but he kept his mouth shut, afraid Koi would stop talking if he dared utter a word. 

“He told me his name was Kai Chisaki and he wanted me to be his spy, his little chameleon. I’ve been sent on many assignments, I’ve done so many horrible things to people, but I always thought Kai was right. He always made me think it was the right thing to do.” Tears formed in your eyes. Izuku hadn’t said a word. You didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing but you kept going. “But this time, for the first time, he made me go undercover with people my age, just starting out in life. I...I’ve grown to like you all a lot, even that barbarian king. You all accepted me with hardly any questions and Takara’s pregnant, and...and I can’t keep going on like I don’t know what’s coming. I made up the story about King Toshinori, and about my eavesdropping on those villains. It was a cover so I could remain a chameleon without you and Eijiro and the others ever suspecting I was the leak. You’d be ambushed and dealt with quickly so you’d stop interfering with Kai’s plans.” 

You swallow. You’d done the hardest part, now you had convince him that you wanted to help him survive and protect him. “Now, I want to help you, Izuku! I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner! It’s just...Kai is terrifying! I know that’s no excuse, but…” You take a breath before you broke down in tears. “I don’t want the Chisaki to kill you or your friends. I...I want to protect you and make sure nothing harms you! I promise I’ll do my best to protect you and everyone else!” At this point, you couldn’t hold the tears back anymore. You tried not to be overdramatic, so you took deep breaths to steady yourself. “I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me, Izuku. Just know that I will protect you, no matter what. I’ll do what I can to make up for what I’ve done.” 

You stood there, trembling as you waited for his reaction. 

Izuku was stunned. He’d had had his suspicions about you from the time you avoided him for a few days. He checked on your excuses and they didn’t quite pan out, but he always thought maybe he was wrong. Now...he knew he was right. There was more to you then meets the eye. 

But at least you had come forward and confessed in time to ensure everyone survived. That was what was important. 

While he was hurt that you’d only joined his group as a ploy to kill him, he knew if he didn’t do something to make sure you knew he wouldn’t abandon you, he’d lose you and you’d think he hated you. 

And that wasn’t true at all. In fact, it was the opposite. He’d grown very fond of you and was proud that you were coming forward and warning him about the impending ambush. 

This way, he could be prepared and deal with the villains while still maintaining Koi- -or whatever your name was; Koi was likely a cover- -’s cover before you were found out and killed for your betrayal. Izuku knew Kai wouldn’t take kindly to his spy revealing herself to the enemy, much less getting so attached to them. 

“So...what’s your real name?” He asks, giving you a small smile. 

Your eyes go wide. You hadn’t expected that reaction at all.

Izuku didn’t seem to hate you for your role in Chisaki’s plan. At least, not right now. 

You wipe your eyes. “W-what?” 

“What’s your name?” He repeats, smiling at you. “I’m guessing Koi isn’t your real name.”

Hardly knowing how to feel, you let out a nervous chuckle. “N-no, it’s not. I’m, uh...Y/N.” You murmur, unsure how to take Izuku’s reaction. 

Izuku’s smile goes wider and he holds out a hand as he stands. “Well then, Y/N, we’ve got work to do if we’re gonna survive the attack from the Chisaki group. C’mon.” 

You hesitate, then take the hand, letting him help you up. “Izuku...I don’t know...I don’t want everyone to know and hate me.” 

“Trust me, they’ll be thrilled you joined our side against someone like Kai Chiaski and want to help them survive. Eijiro will side with you, I know it.” 

“Katsuki will kill me…” You moan, suddenly remembering the barbarian’s temper and explosive magic he could barely control. Those factors combined sent a chill down your spine. But maybe you deserved it for befriending them under such treacherous circumstances.

“I’ll handle Katsuki. He’ll be happy as long as he has villains to fight.” 

While you appreciate the thought of Izuku convincing Katsuki to not kill you, you knew it was a long shot at best.

“I’ll be one of those villains.” 

“No you won’t.” He assures you. “Y/N, trust me. I’ll talk to him. I know how to handle the barbarian king. You just need to talk to Todoroki and Momo, and we’ll get a plan together.” 

Shakily, you nod. “I...I guess, yeah. Yeah, I’ll do that.”

“Nothing’s gonna harm you, Y/N.” Izuku says, leaning his forehead against yours. “Not while I’m around. I promised, didn’t I?” 

You try to believe him as you walk back into town, hand in hand. 

There were so many unknowns going through your head, but one thing was for sure; you and Izuku were going to figure it out together. 

[ai-qa]

To Bridge a Gap

The days which followed were...strangely normal.  Or, I guess what I thought normal would be like, at least compared to how life had been up until now.  Despite being so far from where we'd spent our lives we felt a lot safer and more at-ease, taking up various household chores to better function as a family unit instead of a bunch of runaways.  That wasn't too hard or far from the usual, though-- we mostly just took care of ourselves and each other even back at the foster home.  Everyone had some weight to pull and, honestly, it's not like there was a whole lot else to do out in the middle of nowhere, in a destroyed and forgotten town.

Connor handled simple tasks like collecting waste and adding to the compost.

Harley helped with food preparation, dishes, and laundry.

I mostly foraged, but did other small jobs asked of me.  I also helped teach Connor and Harley  things like reading and basic math if I had the time.

Sura did a lot, like cooking, laundry, and making and mending clothing.  We didn't really have much to our names, maybe a couple changes of clothes each, so we appreciated that there was someone around who could fix what we had and make more of what we needed.  She helped with a lot of other jobs the little kids had, too, if they needed it-- dishes, food waste, those kinds of things.

Riv, well...we didn't see him a whole lot.  He slept during the day so he could keep watch over the place at night, keeping any eye out for foster home staff and any possible hostile corruptions that might come through.  In the early evenings he would forage for things Ulimi might need and set off for Huot in the dead of night every few days, making what money he could and coming back with food from the shop.  He didn't like me helping him forage for things, saying "I don't want my problem to be your problem" or something along those lines.  He'd do what he could to spend time with us anyway, both he and Sura doing their best to ensure we felt safe and cared for.  He took his work around here pretty seriously, though we could tell it was stressful.

We didn't want to be here any longer than we had to be, so he worked hard to pull together what money and goods he could get to make the venture north that much easier.  People do what they can with what they have, and we weren't exempt from that rule.

***

I stared at Saffron throughout his story, my eyes wet from all this new information.  I really had no idea about any of this, just some very subtle behaviors and cues.

"Like I said," Saffron sighed, "Riv is why we're living in some old deserted town ruins and not in a large house back in Huot...but there are far worse things than being homeless.  I'd rather be out here living in a basement than living in that...person's house again.  I think I speak for everyone here."

"...What Sura told us...makes a lot more sense now," I muttered, hugging my knees.

I thought back to Xhianei and how the doorman treated us in kind.  Were there really people like that in the world?  If she got hurt like Harley did I'm...I'm not sure what I would do.  Could I even do anything?  They were a lot bigger than me.  I would probably just make it worse if I tried, but I couldn't just...not do anything.

"I do understand that the people here probably look a lot different than what you're used to, Xhias," Saffron said, scratching one ear.  "You came from an entirely different region and adjusting to this is hard.  We're not new to that kind of thing and we want you to feel welcome and accepted here, but you'll also have to give a little more of what you receive."

I thought about it briefly.  Had I really been so unfair all this time?  I guess that was a dumb question, mulling over how standoffish I had been these past few weeks.  I hadn't meant to be rude or unjust, and honestly didn't think those things made the impact they had.  The realization brought tears to my eyes.

"I don't want...to be like my dad."

"Ah, I don't think you could if you tried," Saffron uttered through an understanding smirk.  "Some things you just have to learn.  It's when you refuse to learn that it becomes a problem.  An appearance is just an appearance: Clothes are just clothes, jewelry is just jewelry, hair is just hair.  More importantly-- his eyes are just eyes, just like yours are."

With that said Saffron stood back up to his feet and stretched, taking my plate from beside me.

"I'm getting up anyway so I'll take this back with me," he said, turning away to head back.

"Saffron, I...did you..." I wasn't sure how to word my question.

"...No, I wasn't," he looked back.  "I appreciate your concern.  Connor was never out of sight so he wasn't, either.  Sura and I were too old upon arrival."

"...What about--"

I could see a grimace begin to spread across Saffron's face before he turned and walked away, ears flattening and saying nothing else.  I slowly turned to face ahead of me once more, holding my knees tightly as my ears sagged with strange, heavy emotion.

I had a lot to think about.

---

Night fell quickly, and before I knew it the rest of us kids were sent to bed for the night.  Each went to their respective rooms, Xhianei following me to ours.  The both of us flopped onto the straw bed, ready to sleep after a long day.  It was nice and cool outside so we made use of the makeshift blankets.  It didn't take long for Xhianei to pass out but I found myself just staring up at the ceiling, tracing the moonlight against the hanging tarps and wires.

Down the hallway I heard the hushed voices of Riv and Sura saying their goodnights.  The quiet flap of the curtain falling cued the familiar slow shuffle of footsteps down the hall before disappearing up that far flight of stairs.

I laid there trying to figure out what to do.  I looked over to Xhianei passed out next to me before looking back up to the ceiling.

...Okay.

I took a deep breath and sat up, scratching my head before rising to my feet.  Carefully, I reached out for the curtain in the doorway, pulled it back, and looked down the empty hall.  Even with all the people down here, hardly a sound could be heard as they slept.  I slowly, quietly made my way down the hall and to the base of the stairs leading outside.

For once I acted without thinking, ascending the stairs as quietly as I could manage and gripping the metal railing to keep myself steady.  It wasn't long before I arrived at the top, pushing past one last curtain and stepping into the outside world.

A short distance away Riv sat atop the remains of a wall just staring out across the field, club in hand.  He seemed too focused on his survey to have heard me coming.  I stopped a couple yards from where he sat.

"...Hey."

His ears perked and he turned just enough to look back at me, those eerie, bright eyes meeting my own.

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Recaps: Volume 6 “Stealing from the Elderly”

Here’s the dilemma:

I adore a lighthearted RWBY.

I don’t adore RWBY when the parts RT chooses to frame as jokes are the legitimate flaws the group needs to work through, thereby sending the message that they aren’t flaws at all. No need to take dangerous mindsets seriously!

And that’s this entire episode. Let’s dive in.

We open on a shot of the Atlesian airships stationed in the Argus bay, cuing the viewer into the one thing I really hoped wouldn’t happen in this episode: the gang going through with this ridiculous plan. Because as we quickly see logic needs to do exactly what I said it would, getting the hell out of the characters’ way in order to justify them making it this far. Every choice they make over the next 13 minutes only works because of the Power of Plot and yep, I’m just salty enough to point out as many inconstancies as I can.

Let’s start with Weiss pretending that she’s “come to [her] senses” and is willing to go home. (Oh look! The kids are telling more lies.) This part is, in my opinion, the most solid portion of the plan. As a Schnee, Weiss does have a guaranteed way of getting access to an airship and the biggest risk is that she’ll actually end up going to Atlas by herself, ending up in the hands of her family. In which case Weiss is strong enough and done enough to just leave again. They physically can’t stop her. I would have actually given her the relic with the hope that, worst case scenario, they still complete their task: getting the relic behind safer walls. Right now emotion is warring with pragmatism. Emotionally Ruby isn’t willing to separate from Weiss and have her brave Atlas alone, but logically the best option is to let Weiss complete their mission—just have her run/sneak away once the airship lands?—and leave the rest of the group to figure out how to get to Atlas at their leisure. As in so many other ways, they’re not thinking as huntsmen right now. They’re not putting their jobs above their personal desires.

Still, that tiny portion of the plan is pretty solid. The problem is… everything else.

Cordovin makes Weiss uncomfortable by saying that she hopes she follows in Winter’s footsteps and she’ll be sending two of her best guards on the journey with her—so be sure to tell General Ironwood that! Cordovin is clearly concerned only with making herself look good. She leaves Weiss in the ‘capable’ hands of Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

As she’s walking away though things start getting ridiculous. The twins try to take Weiss’ luggage, commenting on how heavy it is, but Weiss insists strongly that she can take care of it herself. First off, this just shows how ill-equipped the gang is to pull this off. The easy answer here is to just let them carry your luggage. So what if it’s heavy? The first time we’re introduced to Weiss, Ruby is crashing into a small mountain of her suitcases. If anyone can pull off the snobbish, can’t-go-anywhere-without-my-whole-wardrobe heiress shtick, it’s the actual heiress. But no, Weiss makes a big thing of it so that Cordovin gets suspicious, partly because these kids have no idea how to pull off a complex ruse, partly because, as said, the writing wants to treat all this in a lighthearted manner. So Cordovin pauses.

The answer to this problem? Have Adrian cry. Okay wait, how old is this kid? Because he looks to be about two. Maybe three. Regardless he is not old enough to cry on command, especially when his mom doesn’t, say, do something that she knows will upset him, but straight up goes, “Just like we practiced.” Oh yes. Over the last few hours you practiced with your toddler until he’s now an expert at crying at the drop of a hat. There’s a hint that this is his semblance—those rings of sound we see emanating outward—but that’s not confirmed (it could just be a stylistic choice to show he’s crying very loudly) and even if it was, that doesn’t change a kid’s ability to comprehend his mother’s vague statement and execute an order. RWBY is a show with fantasy qualities, but they’ve never extended that to human development before.

My point is this is stupid. And stupid is okay! On its own this scene is absolutely hilarious and if we’d gotten it a few episodes ago I would have been thrilled. The RWBY gang meets Jaune’s sister, her wife, and the proud parents show off their kid’s semblance by asking him to cry. Adorable! No one cares if the logic there is iffy because it’s just a fun, character driven moment. There’s nothing relying on that logic. Here though? It’s precisely what I’m trying to point out. In order for the plan to work the logic of the world has to suddenly bend itself to the kids’ whims—up until the plot wants them to fail.

That’s just annoying.

So Adrian cries and the guards are immediately distracted. “A crying child!” “We must console it!” Kudos to them for being kind people. They’re weird and way too wrapped up in the supposed superiority of Atlas, but there’s something to be said for seeing a kid crying and dropping everything to try and make him smile.

Weiss takes her own luggage onto the airship… where we hear Maria’s voice inside.

Look. Maria is small. She’s not that small. Is it possible to fit someone into a suitcase? Yeah. Pretty sure I’ve seen Youtube videos of stuff like that. Is it a good solution when applied to a problem that’s been plaguing your team for half a volume now? Not really. You’ll notice throughout this recap that all of the things I point out do have potential explanations—maybe Adrian is that smart, maybe Maria is that small—so it’s less an issue of each thing individually and more that they’re all slammed together in one episode, piling on each other to ensure that the plan works as much as it does. All writing requires a suspension of disbelief, but RWBY is really stretching theirs today. 

Everyone else is standing by at various locations. Where did they get these comms to stay in contact? Who knows. Maybe Terra? We’re not told. Because there’s very little in this episode that’s meant to be taken seriously, despite the fact that it should be. RWBY is trying to work in a lot of humor before the finale’s inevitable angst, but this really wasn’t the time to do it. 

We do see then that Terra is helping them by giving Blake and Yang info about the relay tower. I said before that they should use her as a resource, absolutely, but here we see them using her flippantly. Terra says seriously that this conversation “never happened” and Blake rolls her eyes at her. “Don’t worry. This isn’t the first time I’ve disabled Atlas security.” That’s not the point, Blake? The point is this woman—who you met two days ago, I might add—is risking her job in order to help you steal a freaking airship. Hell, she’s probably risking her freedom too. Cordovin is absolutely the type to chuck them all in jail in the name of “order.” Moments like these just re-emphasize to me how childish the group can be and once again the problem isn’t that childish view in and of itself, but that they’re not learning from it. That no one is calling them out on it. The story doesn’t challenge Blake on her insensitivity here, that she’s shrugging off this woman’s sacrifice like it’s her due. Of course you’d risk all this in the name of our idiotic plan. We’re the heroes. My leader just announced last night that we know what we’re doing and you all should follow along. Your worry is hilarious.

Terra reiterates that this conversation “never happened,” but we’re supposed to laugh at her fear. It’s not meant to read as legitimate because Blake isn’t worried and Blake is one of the protagonists. Now I want Terra to lose everything, just so the gang can look back on their choices and go, “Huh. Maybe we were hasty and kinda arrogant. People got hurt because of that.”

…Except we’ve already seen this. That’s the exact setup involving the relic and we still haven’t had anyone acknowledging how bad those choices were. At this point it’s not even a matter of whether you think the kids should or should not have found out about Salem, or challenged Ozpin’s authority. That ship has passed. It’s the way they went about getting the information that’s a problem. Entitlement, lack of empathy, thinking that it’s your way or the highway. We’re seeing more of that with this plan. 

Then we get a legit wonderful moment though. God bless. Yang drops Blake off a little ways from the tower and asks if she’s sure she doesn’t want any help. Blake rightly points out that it’s a lot easier to sneak in with one person than two… and also, uh, sorry Yang. But you’re not exactly the stealth type.

This is a natural, well-written moment between two people who know each other intimately. My friends and I do this all the time: kinda insulting each other, we’re kinda annoyed by it, but we also realize the other has a point, so there’s no hard feelings. But I’m still gonna act a little like there is because it’s my right to fake-sulk in this moment. The expressions and dialogue are on point here. “I mean… you’re great! And I’ll hurry back!”

Highlight of the episode for me. Everything else can scoot on out.

We cut to an enthusiastic Jaune. “YES! Everything is going to plan.” Yeah, only because your plan has Plot Armor right now. We get a shot of Qrow leaning against a tree in the background, obviously unhappy. We’re once again suppose to sneer at his pessimistic attitude, but he’s right. The show isn’t commenting on his actual issues (drinking, lack of faith in general) because it’s too busy focusing on the one time Qrow is 100% on track this volume (this is a horrible plan bound to go awry).

We return to Weiss on the airship where she watches her scroll until she’s finally out of range. We stay focused on her seat as the sounds of a fight happen off screen and then the twins are drifting down from the airship on a single parachute, held together by one of Weiss’ glyphs.

But then that breaks and one of the guys falls.

He catches hold of the other’s leg because—again—the writing wants this plan to have a strong comedic tone (no doubt to combat the coming drama of Yang and Blake fighting Adam) and is ensuring that nothing bad actually happens. But something bad could have happened. Quite easily. These guys don’t appear to be fighters. I doubt they have the aura to protect them from a fall like that. Weiss could have just killed a guy if the writing was willing to take this plan at all seriously.

All we get though is a slightly guilty look from Weiss. I honestly find this whole series of events to be absurd. It would have fit in well with the early volumes of RWBY before the show grew darker and started emphasizing the consequences attached to a huntsmen’s choices; before we had a whole volume trying to convince us (unsuccessfully imo) that our group is made up of mature adults who are on par with—or according to Ruby’s words—surpassing the likes of Ozpin and Qrow. And this is how they follow up the claim that they don’t need and have never needed adults? 

Ah yes. Stealing from allies, beating them up, and tossing them out of a plane. The epitome of being a huntsmen.

We then get the exact kind of line I figured was coming.

Maria: “Missy, I was the Grimm Reaper. What part of ‘best huntress of her generation’ don’t you understand?”

(In which that expression is me.) 

Of course she can fly an airship! Note that the dialogue dodges all the concerns Weiss brings up. Aren’t you blind? Maria just laughs. Okay, okay, we as the audience at least got a glimpse from Maria’s perspective and know she can see shapes, but aren’t the goggles that allow you to do that “in desperate need of repair”? Maria still doesn’t provide an answer. She takes a super convenient plugin that just happens to fit the glasses we’ve only ever seen her wearing and we get a SENSORY DATA readout on the screen… so she’s connected to the ship now? Who knows. Again, we’re given no explanation. “Why would you kids let me fly this thing?” Maria asks, but it’s once again just another joke to laugh at, not treated as a legitimate question that I’d like answered. There’s a big difference between not boring your audience with every detail of how something works and outright ignoring how it works because you can’t be bothered to come up with something convincing. 

Additionally, as said, the episode is riddled with more of that adults vs. kids mentality. Cordovin tells Weiss that, “Knowing you’re returning to Atlas just warms my old heart,” reminding us that the antagonist of this episode is old. She says, “It’s time you ask yourself, children: do you truly wish to defy me?” framing her, the adult, as the bad guy and the team, the “children,” as underdogs we’re meant to root for. Our episode title is “Stealing from the Elderly” because remember, we’re not just stealing from Atlas. We’re the young people stealing from old people because young people are good and old people are bad. Cordovin has been established as a delusional, nationalist, overly controlling racist. There are plenty of reasons to dislike her. Why does the show feel the need to emphasize age as one of the primary reasons we should distrust her? Oh yeah, because our protagonist just announced last week that kids rule and adults drool.

I bring this up again because it’s in direct contrast to what we’re seeing here with Maria. Her age is being used as a catch-all explanation. She’s ancient! She was a renowned huntress! That’s all you need to know. It’s because she’s been around so long and had so much experience that we supposedly buy into the fact that ‘fly an Atlesian airship’ is a part of that skill repertoire. We see the same thing happening when she conveniently knows the “jargon” to speak with the man down at the base. RWBY wants to have its cake and eat it too. Ozpin leads the team and keeps everyone going/alive. The kids turn on Ozpin because they don’t like how he runs things. Maria takes his place and does the exact same thing (giving orders, keeping them safe and their morale high), but the kids refuse to acknowledge this and the narrative encourages us to do the same. We never needed adults. Except now, once again, it’s an adult and an adult’s experience that’s coming to the rescue… but just forget about that by the time Ruby gives her speech to Qrow, okay?

You can’t have it both ways.

RWBY sure is trying though. While Maria perfectly flies her airship—and taunts Cordovin with cashews. That was admittedly great—things finally start going south. Blake was supposed to take out the tower but now isn’t responding to anyone’s calls. Cordovin hops into a giant fighter and demonstrates the ease with which she can knock Maria and Weiss out of the sky. Watch how fast the group goes from smug to panicked. Oscar yells, “What are we going to do?”—a familiar question at this point in the volume. Keep in mind that given Cordovin’s extreme personality, that first shot was (once again) only a warning shot because the show can’t actually have Weiss and Maria die a fiery death as their ship explodes in the sky. But that was always a possibility! Your actions have consequences. Often horrific ones, but like with the relic, no one is admitting that their ill thought choices are at the root of it all. 

Qrow finally speaks up, but it’s not to let the kids take responsibility for their horrible plan that’s now put three teammates in danger. He shoulders all of it, claiming that it’s because of his semblance.

Which… okay. There’s a lot to unpack in this conversation. That is actually a very in-character thing for Qrow to say, but I’m still waiting for someone to point out how irrational his guilt is. That needs to be a part of his healing process, acknowledging his actual mistakes (relying on drink to the point where he becomes a liability) rather than stuff he’s not at all responsible for (this mission). Qrow’s semblance has a range. We established this clearly in his fight against Tyrian, so how the hell did he mess things up for Blake who’s all the way at the tower and Weiss who’s all the way up in the air? In that moment I thought Ruby would point this out. Start the conversation we should have gotten last week: Your semblance isn’t the problem and neither is the fact that you’re obviously hurting from these revelations. Your coping mechanism is. We need you to take responsibility for the things you can actually control.

Instead we get:

Ruby: “We’re all in this together and we’re all going to do the best we can. That’s all anyone can do…we would have come whether or not you let us so stop talking like we’re your responsibility. We’re not.���  

Ruby, I hate to break it to you, but you are Qrow’s responsibility. Four times over.

Emotionally as the much younger niece of an adult uncle.

Legally considering that you are a minor in the company of an adult.

Legally again given that Qrow has his huntsmen license and you do not. Right now he is the only one with any authority in the real world (presuming that Maria can’t prove her status as former Grimm Reaper).

Justly since Qrow has been fighting this war for at least a decade and you’ve known about its existence for about three months.

Even if you believe Ruby is a fully autonomous adult at 16 with no formal standing in this world, the knee jerk reaction of “we would have come whether or not you let us” is precisely the problem. This isn’t a matter of rejecting what Ruby sees as unwarranted authority, it’s a rejection of valuable support. Qrow did tell them not to do this, but he said as much because the plan is stupid, not because he’s an adult who wants to…what? Curb kids’ actions just because he can? His objection had nothing to do with his authority and everything to do with the fact that this plan can only end badly—as we see happening right this moment. By planting herself on Team Kid, Ruby is choosing to automatically reject adult voices not because the advice itself is bad, but because it came from them. Boiled down the message is teenage rebellion. Don’t tell me what to do… even though you’re usually telling me what to do for a damn good reason.

Remember though, the writing is pro-protagonist here. So instead of having Qrow point out that these views need to be addressed, we get,

Qrow: “How did you grow up so fast?”

Ruby: “I had good role models.”

Ruby is not grown here. She’s doing a damn good job for a traumatized teen thrown into an impossible situation, but just because she believes she’s the bees knees now (ha) doesn’t mean we as the audience need to buy into that. Kudos for acknowledging those role models… but jeez. Rather than a heartwarming moment between uncle and niece, this now reads very much as, “I had good role models and now I don’t need them anymore.” Ruby says they could use “Qrow Branwen,” but she’s not showing it. The last time we saw her speak to Qrow she was announcing that they didn’t need Oz or other adults.  Based on what we’ve seen, rather than address the actual issue (alcoholism) Ruby is trying to put Qrow into a subordinate position. I want your help, but only if you follow our lead. I just reminded you that (I believe) you have no authority over me anymore and you can’t make us do anything. Your place here depends on you acknowledging that we don’t need you; we’ll just have you. 

Which would be something to consider if these kids had actually demonstrated an ability to survive without adults and make better decisions than adults, as they claim they have. If they could actually think and act and plan and enact as equals, on par with people who have finished their schooling, experienced far more, and fought this war for decades (if not millennia). But RWBY hasn’t shown us that. As I’ve laid out elsewhere, the show has in fact done the exact opposite. We’ve had 6 volumes demonstrating why they’re not ready to call all the shots yet, emphasizing how much kids still have to learn. Whether it’s a matter of thinking ahead, thinking strategically, controlling your emotions, or a straight up difference between you and an adult fighter’s power, the kids consistently need an adult’s assistance. Which is natural! But it’s also why having the show frame Ruby as justified in this attitude is quite frustrating to watch.

But whatever. I’m trying to enjoy this episode despite all the issues I see, but I really prefer writing that hangs together and volume 6 has been all over the place. Regardless, we see more of Cordovin piloting that robot (at least she’s reliably over the top in her characterization), but we also see how everyone else is reacting to it.

Civilians are scared. They’re all staring, some holding onto one another, others with hands up over their mouths. This is why the plan is stupid. Not just because we need to crank up our suspension of disbelief, but because they’re stealing an airship. And now they’ve gotten caught. Again, the plot kept treating it as a joke, but Atlas is actually going to see them as “traitors” for this. It is going to cause more tension between the kingdoms. It’s already freaking people out.

Hmm. What happens again when people get anxious and scared...?

And now Ruby wants to start a battle. They’ve committed to this theft, which means that once things go badly all they can do is escalate the situation. They’re not going to surrender. They’re going to make things worse by now attacking the special-operative in charge of this base. It doesn’t matter how much of an asshole Cordovin is, she’s not an enemy. She’s not a grimm, a bandit, or a subordinate of Salem’s. She’s an authority figure of a currently tenuous ally… and Ruby’s solution is to call Weiss back so they can “take this thing down.” This is what happens when kids are in charge. 

Qrow got in trouble for destroying two random Atlas robots. What do we think is going to happen after the gang destroys what looks like one of the best (and most expensive) defenses Argus has? Well, at this point presumably nothing since the writing is determined that the kids shouldn’t take responsibility for their actions, but logically it can’t end well.

Let me be clear here: they are in the wrong. It doesn’t matter that they’re our protagonists with a super secret mission. These kids stole the property of an ally in a time of peace, endangered lives, planned to disable their security, and now plan to destroy one of their primary defenses. Their actions are scaring people which means they’re more likely to attract grimm. The show can dress it up if they want, but the gang’s plan goes against everything they’re supposed to be striving for as huntsmen. 

Regardless, they’re going through with it. We end the episode with the surprise reveal of Adam, another ‘Okay how does this work?’ moment. So he really was there on the train and out by the farm? He just left Menagerie after getting there and managed to catch the same ride? Following them without anyone noticing? Waiting for this precise moment to get Blake alone? Fine. Sure. If I can ignore the gang getting to Argus in an afternoon I can ignore this too.

Especially because I am looking forward to Blake and Yang finally getting to confront him, if only so we can (hopefully) put Adam’s arc behind us. I’ve never been invested in him as a villain, primarily because he doesn’t do anything. His status as a Bad Guy is so tied up with Blake that unless they’re on screen together Adam is just a whiny, useless man-baby. RT does his abuse very well—his claim that Blake “ruined everything” and her calling him out on his “stalking” were great—but those interactions are rare for obvious reasons. So yeah, I’m hoping for a semi-accidental death in this fight. I don’t want the girls to go through the trauma of being murderers, but if Adam could do something stupid that results in him being killed? I think that’d be good. Let the girls find their closure and then be done with him. The cast is massive. We don’t need to keep around characters who only manage to be relevant once every two volumes.

Maybe he can hit a part of the tower and electrocute himself. Would that kill a fighter other than Nora? I don’t know… and now that I think about it, this theorizing is getting morbid lol. Let’s just wait and see.

Until next time!

Other Things of Note

Cordovin’s comment that everyone was devastated when Weiss chose Beacon over Atlas is a great contrast to the comment about Pyrrha. Both went to Beacon to escape the attention from their home towns, but one was a good attention that just proved limiting—are these people really my friends?—while the other was outright abuse.

Honestly, “Jargon was fine, but our pilots aren’t elderly women” is one of the few parts of this plan that’s logically on point. Yes. It is highly suspicious if the pilot checking in sounds like Maria. So it’s clear that RT can apply these basic rules when they choose to.  

“That’s the sound of me not caring!” Istg cute bees teasing and Maria living her messed up life to the fullest saved my sanity today. I’m staning those parts of this episode.

How does Adam see??

[bookenders]

11/11/11 Tag Game: Round... uh... 5, 6, & 7?

I got tagged by a bunch of people ( @quilloftheclouds is this how your 77 question one felt??) so here are a bunch of answers! I think this is the most I’ve ever talked about myself in my life. 

Good gracious, you’re all so nice and have such good questions.

Tagged by: @surroundedbypearls, @waterfallwritings, @bigmoodword, @sundaynightnovels

Rules: answer 11 questions, tag 11 people, give them 11 new questions!

[I’ve done this enough to be able to break the tag rules. Fight me.]

44 questions and answers below the cut!

But I’ll be nice and put my questions right here:

What would you do for a Klondike bar?

When do you title your WIPs? It is the first thing you do? The last? Does it come to you during drafting?

How many inside jokes do you put in your WIP(s)?

Your WIP’s antagonist is now The Riddler. How do your OCs handle that?

Do you use sticky notes?

Laptop or desktop?

Your OC is a wrestler. What’s their hype music?

Do you own any craft books/books on writing?

What’s your favorite book cover?

How many unread books do you have sitting around right now? Which are you most excited to maybe get to eventually some time?

How committed are you to your outline(s)?

Bilbo Taggins: Literally anyone, but also @francestroublr, @sahados-shadow, @a-story-im-writing, @bethkerring, @citruschickadee, @bos-ingit

If I’ve tagged you before, you can totally ignore this. In fact, I encourage you to.

From @surroundedbypearls:

What’s your favourite genre to write in and why? Literary fiction! It’s what I learned in university and the one that fits my themes best. Sci-fi is hard, I’m just getting into writing fantasy stuff, I can’t do thrillers, romance is hard for me, and historical is too much work.

Do you think you have a style/voice that you use more often in your writing? When did you develop that style? If you’ve read one of my stories, you know exactly how my writing voice sounds. It doesn’t change too much. I write like I talk, but if I had a lot more gravitas and charisma. Honestly, I’ve always had that kind of style, but it really developed in high school. It’s been getting stronger since then. It’s one of the things I always got comments about from my teachers and fellow workshop writers. “Your voice is so strong!” Yep. It’s mah thang.

Do you play video games? What’s your favourite? YES I DO. It’s hard to pick faves, but I’ve played Dragon Age: Origins too many times. 

If you were going to do a WIP crossover, which OCs would be most interesting together? (If you’ve only got one WIP crossover with something else) A crossover between H2H and AOPC? Interesting. I think Mel and Keema would get along the best, Oz would have some fightin’ words for Elder Sanga, and Gemma and Teva would be a force to be reckoned with, my god. Two stubborn nerds who believe totally different things but are also very determined to be very good at what they want to do and love their communities to a fault? Fear them.

Do you prefer to plan WIPs in a document or through handwritten notes? I used to do it by hand but I couldn’t read it because my handwriting is terrible and I kept losing papers. I do it in docs now. Much easier to organize and incredibly legible.

Do you multiple languages exist in your WIP? If so how do you address that in the story? H2H is set in the “real world,” so yep. It hasn’t been addressed too much yet, but I have a way for tackling languages. I’ve written multilingual-ish stories before. I never write phonetically and use hella context clues so the reader knows the gist of what was said if another character doesn’t translate.

What’s your favourite animated film that’s not Disney or Pixar? AN AMERICAN TAIL. All of them. It’s on Netflix go watch it and marvel at the way a kids movie talks about Jewish immigration, poverty, and cultural oppression via mice. As a young Jewish child, this movie was my jam. It’s very dark, though.

Do your real-life surroundings influence your WIP’s settings? Nope! One time I tried to write a story set in the same area where I lived and I couldn’t do it. Too weird. Sometimes I’ll write in an item I see near me, or like, a painting or poster on the wall if I need some set decoration, but that’s about it.

Which OCs would be most likely to break the fourth wall? Oz. Lookin’ at the camera like he’s in The Office.

How do you work out your OCs’ personalities? Hm. I look at the story I’m trying to write and make a protagonist that would have the most interesting experience in that narrative. For H2H, I wanted someone who would be loyal as heck to the people they loved while still being experimental enough to try new things and get into shenanigans. The story called for someone like that, and there she was. Mel came about my thinking of someone who would compliment other characters in the story while still being their own person. If that makes sense. I think of dynamics and interactions with the story world in relation to the theme(s). Most of the time they just happen, though.

Do you prefer worldbuilding or character building? Character building! As much as I like making stories about places, making characters is more fun for me, and more interesting. You should see all the DnD character sheets I have. 

From @waterfallwritings:

1. How do you come up with ideas for your WIPs?

At random. Seriously. It’s like my brain has to be running something in the background to function normally, and usually that something is whatever story I happen to be working on. Or I’ll look at a thing and go “huh.” My brain also likes to twist normal things to be a little bit different.

2. How do you get past gaps in the plot?

No idea, man. It’s like throwing spaghetti at a wall. I like to work backwards. If this is what I want to happen, what needs to happen before that to ensure that it occurs? I look at all the elements currently in the story and see if one can be manipulated to fill in the hole.

3. What motivates you to keep writing?

If I don’t, my brain gets all constipated and angry until I write something down. Like, seriously, I get grumpy and frustrated like I’m hangry or something. Aside from physical need, I love writing. I love word puzzles and feelings puzzles and figuring them out. Sometimes I think of how my stories could help someone, or make them feel something that they enjoy. 

4. Do you do any other kind of creative writing?

Oh, man, I’ve done it all. Screenwriting, playwriting, poetry, video game-ish writing, interactive storytelling, short stories, flash fiction, proposals, essays, DnD campaigns, monologues... You name it, I’ve probably tried it. I tend to stick to prose and poetry these days.

5. Do you have any other creative hobbies besides writing?

I’ve gotten into graphic design a little bit. I kind of wanna learn how to knit again. I’m not really very crafty. 

6. What do you do when you’re stuck on a scene and don’t know how to get it out / write it?

Write a different scene, stare at the screen in frustration until I give up and go to sleep, meditate for a few minutes, go do something else to get my mind off of it, clean, work on a different project.

7. How do you decide how to end your WIP?

I mean, see the next question for part of my answer. How did I decide to end H2H? My friend, that’s a big ‘ole spoiler. But I decided to end it at a place where everything, and everyone, comes together.

8. When in the process of writing do you decide how its going to end? Or do you kind of just wait til you get there?

Right at the beginning. If I don’t know where it’ll end, I have a hard time writing the arc. I work backwards: start with the idea, then think of where I want it to end up, then work back to the beginning until I know where its going, then start writing.

9. Why did you decide to join writeblr?

My reasons are pretty personal, but the least personal is that I needed some accountability and motivation. And I missed being in a good writing community.

10. What’s your favourite food?

Pasta! I’m eating spaghetti right now.

11. If you had to kill off a character in your WIP, who would it be and why?

Oz would be the most tragic. Treena would be the most logical. 

From @bigmoodword:

1. using one sentence summaries, can you tell me about your wips?

Nerdy potion woman meets cute odd stranger who helps her solve magic mysteries in their quirky small town.

2. what inspired them?

I saw a zine accepting submissions for magic stories, then an open call for queer shifter stories, and thought “what if wholesome magical lesbians?”

3. which of your ocs do you most identify with?

Gemma!

4. if you’ve ever cried while reading, which book cued the waterworks?

THE SONG OF ACHILLES.  My God, my soul was weeping. Honestly, it still is. Doesn’t matter that I knew the story from the Iliad. Madeline Miller is a feelings wizard.

5. how do you conduct research for your wips and what’s the most interesting thing you’ve discovered in said research?

On an as-needed basis. I used to do way too much research to avoid actually writing the damn thing, so now I only do it when I actually run into a problem that can be solved by Google.

6. thus far, which scene has been the most difficult to write?

The ones that aren’t hugely emotional. Which is... unfortunate.

7. which of your ocs do you like the least?

Rude. On a personal level, Jill. I love her, but I would not be friends with her. We wouldn’t mesh at all.

8. which pov and tense do you prefer to write in?

Third person limited present tense! To the bane of everyone who’s ever edited my work.

9. do you write poetry?

I do! Not often, though.

10. who is your writing role model?

My freakin’ writing professor from college. He is crazy disciplined.

11. if you could give your younger writer self some advice, what would it be?

Hey, you know those people who say your writing is too dark? Yeah, they suck and they’re wrong. They just want kids to live up to their expectations and write happy sunshiny stories about unicorns and dinosaurs having ice cream. And you’re not depressed because you wrote that one sad poem one time and someone asked if you were depressed. What you have is called feelings and they’re very useful for a writer, nay, a human, to have.

From @sundaynightnovels:

Who is your biggest role model? Okay, so I got crap all the time in grade school for never having a role model, and I still don’t have one. The teachers were concerned about me. But my reasoning was, “why should I want to live someone else’s life?” Yeah. They didn’t really know what to do with that...

What are your OCs favorite foods? Sort of answered here!

Which OC is most afraid of the dark? Oz and Mary!

What made you want to start a writing blog/participate in the writeblr community? Answered above!

Did you sleep with a stuffed animal as a kid? Do you still? I did, indeed. I don’t anymore, but I have two that I shuffle around my room when they get in the way. One is a highland cow I got in Scotland (he has a plaid hat), the other is a blue whale I got at the Museum of Natural History in NY.

Do you like donuts? I love donuts. Especially jelly filled ones. Mmm.

Do/would your OCs like donuts? All of my OCs like donuts. I don’t think Mel has ever had a modern one, though.

What is your least favorite food? Cauliflower? I’m the household taste-tester, so there’s been a lot of stuff I don’t like.  ( @sundaynightnovels I hate sparkling water, too, you’re not alone!)

What is your ideal writing environment? Comfy seating, a chair with no arms (stupid elbows), alone, plenty of chosen beverage within reach, headphones.

Favorite line from your WIP? So far, it’s this one!

Favorite quote from a book? Oh, man. There are so many. From recent memory, here are a few: “’Give it time,’ she replies. ‘It won’t be a story forever.’“  and “Everyone has heard stories of women like us, and now we will make more of them.” (both from The Ladies Guide to Petticoats and Piracy) “When he smiled, the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled like a leaf held to flame.” and “I lean forward and our lips land clumsily on each other. They are like the fat bodies of bees, soft and round and giddy with pollen.” (I could write a goddamn essay about the imagery in this scene.) (It is quite possibly my favorite description of a kiss ever. And the metaphor extends through the rest of the scene so artfully ugh.) (both from The Song of Achilles) “The thing about a story is that you dream it as you tell it, hoping that others might then dream along with you, and in this way memory and imagination and language combine to make spirits in the head.” (from The Things They Carried)

[chezzkaa]

Numb pt 12

Click here for more Numb content OR JOIN THE NUMB DISCORD

Lumberjack AU Pairing: Ryan Haywood x Reader WC: 2500+ Warnings: child death and angst

Date posted: 6 Sept 2018

His grip on your hand tightens without realising, gaze caught in the fire. The way the flames dance and log cracks beneath the glowing coals dusted with ash. Ryan doesn’t speak for what feels like an eternity. The seconds drip by and splatter against your nerves with each excited cheer of the blazing hearth. The tea nestled in you lap is cooling, but you can’t bring yourself to drink it. Something odd and unsettling aching your limbs and begging them to be still.

“I moved to Motbury a few years ago,” Ryan starts, voice soft and tripping in his throat. He doesn’t look at you, but seems to appreciate the slow circles your thumb traces against his. “Figured I’d man my own business and start again. I kinda hoped a different town would make things easier.”

“Easier?”

“Yeah.” He rolls his head to the side, watching your expression. “I was dwelling a lot where I used to live. It’s got… pretty hard. I used to have a house full, and getting used to all those empty rooms was tough. But out here… I’m still on my own, but it’s a lot easier to manage.”

You chew your lip, picking at the skin until you feel it sting. Ryan hadn’t spoken much of his family, but what you did know was that his Dad had meant a lot to him. You try to find your voice. “I’m sorry, losing a parent-”

He rejects your train of thought with a simple shake, lips pressing into a thin line. “It wasn’t just him. I lost my Dad in the Winter of 2014, my wife in Spring 2015, and daughter a few months after.”

The anguish starts first in your fingers, stretching though your palm and along your arm with a cold prickling sensation. With it your muscles seize, desperate to shake free the raw feeling that taints your body and courses through your veins. Infesting your being and stinging just beneath the skin. But you persist, clinging to the mourning that washes over Ryan as he remembers, oblivious to the cry you chew.

“I’m so sorry.” You struggle to keep from choking on the agony he hasn’t realised he’s sharing, forcing your voice to keep from sounding strangled. “That’s…”

But you can’t put your sadness into words, the feeling of someone else’s emotions burrowing into your bones making breathing hard. Clinging to his hand like it’s a lifeline that keeps you from drifting out on the sorrow he wears in his smile.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” he replies in a tone that sounds wrong, given the circumstances. “But it’s alright. My Dad was old and fragile. He had a fall while we were working around the Grisham forest and steadily declined from there. And my wife was ill when I married her, so we were prepared for the inevitable. Got to say our goodbyes. We were lucky.”

He senses the question you don’t allow to fall from your lips, letting off a sigh and staring at your joined hands. He traces one of the silver scars cutting across your skin, thumb curving across a cluster that span like stars. Like Ryan prefers getting lost in the blemishes that bloom over your hands as opposed to dwelling in what he knows he can’t escape.

“I’m now realising that I’m kinda just throwing the ‘I had a wife’ thing on you. Kinda shoulda said something sooner, huh?”

“Don’t be silly,” you mutter. “Am I making this weird? I can let go of your hand?”

“Please don’t.”

You’re quiet for a moment, the nagging of a question becoming too much. “How old was she?”

He knows who you’re asking about, knows by the gentle tone that pools between his fingers that you’re not asking about his wife - and he sighs. “Bethany was 9.”  

Another wave of feeling, tainted with anger and a deep aching pain that resonates in your chest. You don’t speak this time, but you can’t bear to leave him alone. Not with the thoughts that race through his mind and infest yours as a result. And all at once you can see it, drowning in the guilt and agony and self loathing. His fear burning your airways and clogging your nose.

 The curtains are drawn. The house almost humid with the artificial heat that beats against the walls, clinging to the carpet and sticking across the windows. Ryan closes the door, soft click muffled through the darkness. A sigh sees him shrug out of his coat and kick off his shoes, straining with a relieved groan. He doesn’t notice you, an impression against the memory that haunts him now. A version of himself caught in the loop you’re only managing to glimpse.

He calls out a name, voice rippling as though the air were water. Every breath you draw never being enough as he yells louder, and waits.

“Bethany? Sweetheart?”

Nothing.

 You should be leaving. Should be yanking your hand free of his while you sit beside the fireplace, but you can’t. Because if you pull away he’ll be on his own again. Left in the cycle you shouldn’t be seeing, but can’t bear to abandon him too. So you follow him; socks padding across the stairs he takes two at a time, his hand gliding along the banister. There’s panic in his voice now, the name being called infinitely more fragile.

“Bethany? Don't tell me you're asleep already.”

Only empty silence greets him on the landing.

Ryan raps his knuckles against the door, painted a delicate pink and littered with dinosaurs. He’s impatient, you can see it in the set of his shoulders and the way his eyebrows knit. But he’s scared, too. And as his stomach fills with knots and nerves, so too does yours.

“Bethany?”

You feel sick when he yanks open the door. And this time you call her name, too. “Bethany?”

He’ll never get a response. He bolts across the small room, taking the bundle of blankets on the bed into his arms and shaking. Her name is falling freely now, littering the sheets like his tears when she doesn't smile into his voice. Burrowing into the carpet with the sound of his wails.

“No…” It’s your voice this time, bouncing uselessly against his back while he stares at his daughter’s blank expression. “No, please.”

He glances up as though he’s heard you, face contorted in utter agony. But instead he starts bellowing. Crying out for help, pleading for the babysitter that should have been there. For the neighbours. For his wife.

With that, you can’t take it anymore. Can’t stand to see him lose himself to a scene you’re sure he’s been trapped in far too many times. And rather than sinking to your knees like his emotions will you too, you take your first step into the room. And then another. Forcing your legs to move until you’re stood above the man who’s lost everything, cradling the world in bloodsoaked hands.

Reaching out, your fingers brush through his hair, a gentle ‘shh’ falling from your lips. His sobs falter, almost surprised as the energy that makes up your being crouches to his left, arm wrapping around his waist. Your head barely anything against his shoulder. “Shh, baby. It's time to go.”

  The pressure against your hand comes as a shock, and the sight of his blue eyes free from the clouds of crying anchor you back to the tavern. He smiles, creaking as he leans over to brush  a tear from your cheek, expression confused and soft. “Hey, you alright there?”

You nod, clearing your throat and turning a gentle pink. “Yeah, sorry. Just… thinking.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one crying?”

You smile, though barely. “Please don’t, cus I’ll bawl my fucking eyes out. And I’m wearing makeup.”

He chuckles, not at all bothered outwardly by the memory that’s seen you close to shattering. “Oh no.”

“It’ll be a bloodbath.”

“We can’t have that,” he determines firmly, lifting up his arm and motioning. “C’mere.” You don’t hesitate, shuffling into his side and tucking your shoulder beneath his embrace. The weight of his arm is reassuring, pulling you close. “See?” He nudges your foot with his, smirking. “Hugs makes everything better.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, snuggling further into him. Ryan chuckles, warmth of his chest glowing against your cheek.

“But if I shut up how am I supposed to ask you questions?”

“Questions?”

He nods. “We’re gonna trade life stories.”

You don’t do a good job of keeping the grimace from your face, picking anxiously at your fingers. “Okay, fire away.”

“You used to work with Jeremy.”

This statement comes as a shock, and you can’t figure out how best to respond. Instead you glance at him, a swift finger needling between his ribs. “That’s not a question, asshole.”

He smiles, a little more bashful and reserved than before. “Give me some time. Jeremy actually told me an awful lot about his partner back in the city, I just want to make sure I’ve not got anything wrong.”

“He talked about me?”

“A lot,” Ryan confirms, looking a little wistful. “He was always going on about the ‘best crime fighters to ever hit the streets’.”

You laugh, defrosting a little. “Of course he fucking did, oh my god. That fuck lives and breathes his work.”

“So did you.”

Now you stop, breath stammering across your tongue. Bitter with the apprehension clotting your throat. “You could say that.”

“According to our dear detective, you were the recipient of a number of medals and honourings. Best homicide inspector the area had ever seen.”

“Is there a question involved in this at all?” Your tone is a little sharper than you intend, body stiffening in his arms.

Ryan knows he’s hit a sore spot, gentle this time. “Why did you move to Motbury?”

It’s not what you’d expected, gearing yourself up to pour your heart out, bleed your feelings over the memory of a body you’ve never truly let go. A case you couldn’t solve in time. It takes you a while to reply, the crackling of flames accompanying the hollow tone that escapes your lips and coats your interlocked hands. “I couldn’t stand to be in the city anymore. It was to empty.”

His grip on you tightens. “I thought you lived with your friends? The ones that are moving down?”

“That was… after.”

“After?”

You sigh reluctantly, fidgeting with your fingers. Shifting, Ryan dives into your jumper pocket, plucking out the stones he’s seen you turn over too many times to count, dropping them into the palm of the numb hand you hold out. Once the smooth surfaces touches skin the negativity ebbs, just enough to manage. “Thanks…”

“You’re welcome.”

“So.” Folding the small stones over and over, you can’t bring yourself to share the glance you’re certain he’s casting across your expression. “Where do you want me to start?”

“Wherever you’re comfortable, Y/N. You really don’t have to tell me.”

“No, no it’s okay. When I was younger I actually lived around Grisham forest, too.”

“No kidding!” He’s grinning, like a kid finding out that his best friends loves dinosaurs as much as he does.

“Yeah, I lived there with my Granddad back when we were on speaking terms. Once I was old enough to get my degree I moved to the city and started working my way up. Trevor and Alfredo lived in my apartment complex, and I met Lauren through mutual friends. Jeremy… Jeremy and I became fast friends. Our desks were next to each other and we had the same drive. Ended up being partners, which was fantastic. Got a few good years in working at the top before everything happened.”

Ryan doesn’t interrupt, letting you continue at your own pace.

“I always had a problem with getting too invested in my work. Late nights at the office, even later surrounded by files at home. It started bothering the people I lived with, but at that point solving crimes and saving lives was all that mattered to me. To Jeremy and I. Then we got caught up in this really tough situation, and we were certain we’d got the asshole, but… we were too focused. Ended up getting tunnel vision and missing out on key information that was sitting right in front of us. I-”

You hum in irritation, trying to follow the soft movement of Ryan’s thumb as it rubs circles into your side.

“I refused to see something so fucking important because I was so desperate to solve the damn case. And it got someone killed. My ignorance and obsession was paid for with someone else’s life. Jeremy and I got the guy in the end, but it shook us up. He got transferred a month after begging the higher ups, and I stayed behind. Couldn’t really face anymore files, and eventually I couldn’t manage being alone. Trevor and Alfredo moved in, and we decided to move away from the city. Start again, just like you I guess.”

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, pulling you tighter against his chest and resting his cheek against your head. The gentle rocking is soothing, his free hand cupping your face. “That’s-”

“Life,” you finish, muffled in his plaid shirt, tears threatening to brim over. “That’s life.”

“Why didn’t you go and stay with your Granddad?”

“He died a few years ago and I hated him,” you reply, unfazed.

“That’s… not the response I expected,” Ryan chuckles, pulling away slightly and peering down at the small smile decorating your lips.

You shrug, reaching up to brush free the lock of hair that falls into his eyes. “He was a nasty man.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” you laugh, “bastard was constantly cursing people who rocked up on the property. Missionaries, girl scouts...” You snigger, the pair of you comfortably settling back into a lazy embrace. “Squirrels.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Not at all, he was a real piece of work.”

“What an asshole,” Ryan chuckles.

“You’re telling me. I’m much happier with the friends I’ve got now. Lucky, too. You know what they love?”

His face clouds. “Errm… food?”

“Ghost stories. But also food. Probably more so food. But I want to hear a ghost story.”

“The Widow of the Woods?”

“Unless you’ve got more?”

Ryan smiles, rubbing your foot with his. “I’ve got plenty, but we’ll start with the one you won’t shut up about.”

“I’ve asked, what, like twice?” your fingers hook into his ribs, and he yelps out a laugh, squirming into your side.

“Okay, okay. I give! The Widow of the Woods, I get it. Jeez, you’re a wicked person.”

“I prefer ‘witchy woman’.” You punctuate the words with a wave of your hand, of which Ryan gabs and forces back down with a playful eyeroll.

“Of course you do. But I can see it, you’re definitely a fucking witch.”

“If only you knew - wait. Excuse me? Are you insulting-”

“So,” Ryan starts loudly, shuffling up in his seat to cut off your sentence. “The Widow of the Woods.”

[sky-writes-daydreams]

How They Met Chapter 14

A/N: Hey! I’m still here. Sorry for the delay between updates. I’ve been working on this honestly. Editing and adding to it of course. (There’s smut coming I swear to the six.) Also been debating on something. If I were to write an alternate ending to the first one I had planned an episode happiness as it were, Would anyone be interested? Let me know plz.

@valkyrieofardyn @shigekihizashi @blindedstarlight @lola-mcevil13

Next Chapter     Masterpost 

Turns out I didn’t have to worry. I was sitting on the shaded steps outside of the power plant when I heard a whistle. I looked back and beamed.

“Cindy!”

“Hey girl. What’s up?”

“Waiting on the boys. Holly called for backup.” she nodded as she came closer.

“I heard. Kind of why I came running.” She sat down next to me and smiled.

“Hope you don’t mind. Pawpaw needed the truck so I had to take Bella.” I stopped then.

“Wait….” She smiled and flashed my spare key. I forgot I gave that to her. I laughed then and she smiled.

“Gave her a look over while you were gone. She should be good for a long while. Those empire techs knew what they were doing.” I stopped then.

“Who told you…?”

“The boys. Ignis was the quietest. I don’t think he likes you hanging around them too much.”

“I know he doesn’t…. Noctis just told me why…. He had a crush on me.” Cindy cringed then and I nodded.

“Kind of just crushed it…. Cus the guy that the boys keep running into…” I could feel the blush then.

“We’re dating….” She looked over stunned and I covered my face.

“You…. You're dating!? Finally!”

“Oh shut it!!! You know damn well why I haven't before now!” She started laughing then and I groaned covering my face. At least till I heard the gate open. We both straightened up and I soon ran.

“Gladio!!” He looked up and smiled.

“Hey! Sup?”

“Nothing much. Where the hell you’ve been?” He chuckled then.

“Long story. It was worth it tho.” I nodded and soon the boys started talking. I snuck away and headed for my jeep. They had it together now that gladio was home.

I got home about an hour later and just crashed on the couch. I was worn out and I didn’t feel like walking back to my bedroom. My boots were waiting by the door drying out and I just hit the couch. My phone was still dead silent but I didn’t mind. I got up long enough to scrub off some of the swampy mess on my legs and wash out my hair before I went back to the couch and turned on my small tv. I turned on some old movie and just settled down. I lost track of time while my eyes were closed. I only opened them when it started going nuts vibrating. I slid it over to answer without looking at the name.

“Hello?”

“Oh six…. I woke you.” I stopped then.

“Wait…. Ardyn?” I rubbed my eye a bit then as he chuckled.

“Yes. you ok?”

“I guess… Fuck what time is it?”

“Around seven at night. I’ve been trying to text but you never answered… Should have known you were asleep.” I laughed a bit then.

“Yeah maybe…. I’m lousy at keeping in contact though. I could have just been ignoring my phone as I clean. I’ve done that… Or reading. I do love my books.”

“Oh? Interesting…. At least you can sleep now though.”

“Yeah… I’m kind of shocked. Been a while since I’ve passed out like this…” I smiled then stretching slightly.

“Maybe getting that weight off me made it easier… I’m a lot more relaxed now…” I got up then turning on a lamp close by. It was already dark out. My tv was still on as well but I didn’t even check it.

“You too? Well I suppose that’s a good side effect.... I wonder how well you’d sleep if I was there though.” I laughed then getting into my kitchen. I kept this part of my house sparkling. I hated a dirty kitchen.

“My, That’s a jump…. But probably pretty fucking well. Wouldn’t need a thick blanket either cus you’re a heater.” I opened my fridge then and got a water out. I heard him laugh then and then pull away from the phone. I couldn't hear what he said.

“Good to know. I’ll remember that for next time hon. Sadly I’ve got to go. A quick meeting before I’m set free. Plans are in motion and apparently need my approval.” He sounded so bored. I laughed then leaning on the fridge then.

“My oh my, is the man of the people bored with his duties?”

“Very funny. I’m tired as well believe it or not. I would like an early day off.” I cackled then and he huffed.

“Go back to sleep Skylar. I’ll see you soon.”

“Alright.  Hope it goes by quick for you, Ardyn… Love you.” It felt a bit odd to say it but It wasn’t a lie. I knew he stopped then before smiling.

“Love you too Dear…. See you soon?”

“Always.” He kissed the phone then making me go red before he hung up. I let my hand fall then as I sighed. I kind of wished he was here with me suddenly.

I didn’t get long to dwell on that. Come sunrise, I was getting leads over text for hunts all over the area. I was the highest ranked hunter they could find for some of these. I organized them all on my gps the best I could before taking off. The only good news is I got to text Ardyn. In between hunts, I’d send him little photos or texts just letting him know how they went or where I was. I even changed his name from cinnabum loser to Ardyn My Love. It made the huge job load a lot easier to deal with honestly and the nightly calls while I camped at havens close by helped even more. I was honestly lying on my back next to the fire looking up at the stars with the phone beside me on speaker when he mentioned it. I hadn’t seen him in over a week now and I was a rank nine hunter now. My friend Dino from Galdin had just asked me today about this new job he had for me which is what I was telling ardyn when he chirped up.

“Wait… you said the emerald was where?”

“Costlemark. It’s old ruins from the first empire. I’ve camped near there to take out some necromancers close by but never went in. It’s labeled as highly dangerous and dave is careful about which hunters go in. He won’t even do it anymore because the last time, he almost didn’t make it out.” I laughed then smiling.

“I’ve always wanted to go!!! The loot in that place is out of this world!” He laughed then.

“I can believe that… I’ve been in there…. Well…. As of…” I heard him pull the phone away as I looked over.

“Five minutes ago.”

“You went alone!?” I rolled over grabbing my phone quickly.

“How are you alive!?”

“Easy. It’s part of my secret.” I stopped then. He hadn’t mentioned his secrets since that night at the vesperpool.

“Ardyn…” I was worried. He had been so closed off about telling me before now.

“I went to make sure we could do it together…. This is where I want to tell you everything…. It’s the closest we can get to….” He trailed off then.

“Ok… Um… when?”

“Can you be here tomorrow night? It only opens at night.” I got up then and scrambled to my map. I looked over it and smiled.

“Easily. I’m only in the next district. I can get there during the day and we can hang out until nightfall if you want.”

“Sounds good to me. Be nice to see the local hangouts.” I laughed then smiling.

“Yeah I can toss you in the lakes and see if you can catch a rare fish or leave you stranded on the arches.” I folded the map then easily. This was going to be fun for sure.

“Oh get real…. You’re scared of heights. You wouldn’t get up there even if I offered you all the gil in lucis.” I gasped then as he started laughing. I just smiled then.

“Yeah ok you got me…. Well good news is that I live about an hour away so if I’m still talking to you after this, we can go chill at my house.”

“Oh? Am I finally going to get to see where you live?”

“Maybe. It’s not much but it’s mine for sure.”

“I’m alright with that. So…. is it a date?” I stopped putting away my things then and looked over at the phone going red.

“Um…. Yeah. I guess so…. Just don’t get me drunk this time ok?”

“I won’t. Not safe to go into costlemark drunk…. Unless you’re me I guess.” I laughed a bit then smiling.

“You promise we’ll be ok?”

“I swear hon. No harm will come to you while you’re with me.”

“I trust you…. Um…. Meet up at the chocobo post?”

“Is that the central location there?”

“Pretty much to me.”

“Alright…. Mind if I see if damien will let me pet him?” I smiled then.

“Oh? Do you have a soft spot for chocobos?”

“Well…. Maybe. It’s been a while. That’s all and he seems friendly enough.” I shook my head then smiling.

“Alright. I’ll text you permission in case wiz asks ok?”

“Thanks hon. See you there around noon?”

“Probably sooner…. Depends on how soon I can get some sleep.”

“I didn’t make you too excited did I?” I stopped then. Was he…?

“No…?” He started laughing then and I growled looking away.

“You jerk! I’m hanging up now!”

“Sleep well love.” He kissed the phone then and I just smiled. I kissed back before hanging up and went to bed smiling. Tomorrow was going to be a lot of fun.

[tornrose24]

I remember how someone on here once joked about CU singing ‘Popular’ to Krupp like in Wicked... Hmm... a Wicked AU, or a Wizard of Oz AU ? ... Ah heck, why not combine both?

What would I call it to make life easier…. cu oz/wicked au?

(Also, I tried to present optional possibilities for both the Egg Casserole fans and the Kruppants fans in the Wicked section. Mainly because I’m very aware just how popular the ElphabaxGlinda ship is and I want to offer that possibility to those who will take over their parts too).

George and Harold: Both share the role of Dorothy. I’d imagine they came from either an 1930’s or 1990’s era Piqua when a tornado suddenly took them to a land beyond the rainbow. As strange and fun as Oz is, they know that they need to get back home as soon as possible... especially considering the fact Heidi hid with them during the storm. Instead of ruby slippers, they end up with a pair of bands that contain powerful magic.

Heidi: Ended up with the role of Toto and carries a dog plushie with her to symbolize that. Both George and Harold (but especially Harold) are protective of her when things get out of hand, but she’s also a lot tougher than she looks.

CU: Glinda–oh come on, you knew where this was going. He helps the boys and Heidi out, but he can’t join them because he has other matters to attend to, though that won’t stop him from helping however he can... just don’t trust him to give you proper directions on where you need to go. Also three words: Sparkly cape and underpants. You’re welcome.

Krupp: The Wicked Witch.... yup, I forced him into an antagonist’s role yet again. On one hand it’s because he has to be and because it’s funny. On the other it makes sense when... well, I’ll elaborate more on the Wicked portion of the AU.

???: The scarecrow. Note that revealing the identity of who I chose for the role will spoil a major story element from Wicked. If you don’t want the musical to be spoiled, don’t read the Wicked AU section down below. if you are ok with learning about the spoiler, you can click the keep reading link down below.

Kipper: The Tin Man. I know it’s an odd choice, but he always had that key and he’s someone who could learn to grow a heart. Otherwise I’d be open to Melvin in this role instead. My reason for this choice also ties to how the Wicked section comes into play.

Tommy: The cowardly lion. Ah come on, you know how that kid acts when he sees Krupp and he seems right for the role. He could get braver the longer he’s with the little group.

Melvin: The lead flying monkey (or, as Wicked fans might recall, Chistery). Or else he’d invent a flying machine that has that name. His family is in service to Krupp due to something he did for them in the past. I wouldn’t mind if someone thinks Kipper would be a better fit for this role instead, but I have my reasons.

Poopypants: The wizard. Yup, I had to go there. He just seems like a good fit.

Ok, so how does the Wicked storyline tie into the Oz AU? Click the keep reading tab for how certain roles get expanded.

Krupp: So I can see him having VERY loose similarities to Elphaba. He might of had a not so easy life due to having the same skin condition she had (and we throw in the fangs and freakish strength for the heck of it because, believe it or not, Elphaba actually HAD sharp teeth when she was an infant in the book, so this could work) OR alternatively he looks normal until his negative emotions get the best of him and changes his appearance (like what happened to the Witch in Once upon a Time) OR neither one–his temper always got in the way and he wasn’t good with making friends. In this AU’s equivalent of Shiz, he was working on getting his Masters in Education, but him having magic also caught the interest of a few staff members who wanted him to develop his powers and work for the Wizard one day. There was a time where, despite having a quick temper and being hasty, he genuinely wanted to teach kids and be someone who could be there for them when it seemed that others would not. A discovery of a plot by the Wizard lead to him being framed as a villain, forcing him to be on the run. A series of events and misunderstandings would gradually harden his heart and he’d allow himself to embrace what everyone made him out to be. (Also, I REALLY want to hear Ed Helms sing Defying Gravity right now.)

CU: Would be Glinda for obvious reasons, but much nicer and a bit more ditzier even at the very beginning. About the same age as Krupp, but it took him longer to get to the University because he’s not very book smart. CU is more interested in magic than Krupp is at first, but wants to use such powers to help those who aren’t as fortunate. He gets on Krupp’s nerves and his a lot more popular than him, but an act of kindness brought them together and for awhile they were genuinely good friends who helped support each other. (If you wanted to go the Kruppants route, they harbored feelings for each other, but CU was more open about it). Unfortunately upon also discovering the plot of the Wizard, CU chose to stay behind instead of go with Krupp to see if he could undo the damage and clear his friend’s name. Upon graduating, he began to work solo to fulfill his own goals, though the Wizard and his minions have been keeping a close eye on him. He keeps Krupp from taking the bands from the boys because he was afraid of what would happen if Krupp had too much power, but he failed to realize what the Wizard would force the boys to do until it was almost too late.

Jasper: Nessarose, of course, but he doesn’t have either of the birth defects she has in the book or musical. He was in Shiz University for about a year or two when Krupp was getting his Masters and by this point he met his future wife. Because of his kind nature/ being born normal, he was more well loved in his family than Krupp was, though he idolized his brother and refused to believe that he was as evil as he was made out to be. Unfortunately, there was a tragic incident that would end the brotherly love. Many years after Krupp was declared a villain, he came back to his brother for help to try to end the Wizard’s reign. While it was a heartfelt reunion at first, Kipper (whose his usual spoiled, not-so-pleasant self at the time) came upon his uncle’s spell book and decided to mess around with it, and as a consequence accidentally casted a spell on himself that turned him into a metallic being. Krupp was unable to undo the spell before Kipper ran away and his brother threw him out in anger. There was never a chance to reconnect and Jasper was too angry to give Krupp the bands that could have aided him.

Edith: Fiyero, except maybe she’s a tad closer to the book version, but still a member of the main ruling family of the west. THIS was why I didn’t want to reveal the identity of the scarecrow at first. I estimate that she’s about 10-15 years younger than Krupp, so when she was invited to Shiz University for a few weeks (her family had ties to the school, since they want to send future rulers to the best schools) she was between ages 10 to 15 when she met Krupp, who was encouraged to tutor her to boost his resume. She wasn’t as book smart as her family, but the two developed an unlikely friendship, especially since she saw past his exterior. They’d meet again many years later when Edith was forced into an engagement with one of the Wizard’s minions, which neither her or her family wanted since they were against him, but they had no choice if they wanted to keep his control away from the west. (Yeah, so she’s not engaged to CU like in the musical because I doubt the circumstances would have been the same). Krupp was able to get her out of it in exchange for her family’s aid and while the two were surprised to see each other again, their old friendship resumed once more (and, if you want to go the Egg Casserole route, it of course grew into something much more than what either of them were ready for). Sadly, in an attempt to protect Krupp, Edith was captured by the Wizard’s guards when her family was overthrown. Their torture left her with burn scars on her hands, no memories of her life, and an extreme phobia of fire for reasons she can’t understand. She’d eventually come across a group of children just trying to get home and would join them in hopes of recovering her own memories. Unfortunately, Krupp was left with the idea that she had been killed and it was one of the final turning points to make him embrace the evil person everyone made him out to be.

Ribble: She seems perfect for Madam Morrible, though with less of the fake motherly-ness. She was the one who kept an eye on both Krupp and CU (and didn’t really expect much out of CU due to his seemingly idiotic nature) at the University and let the Wizard know about them.

Poopypants: Ok, so I said he’d be the Wizard, but unlike the musical, he’s NOT Krupp’s biological dad (Oh dear lord would that be odd. Though, if you want the green skin route, Krupp’s mom could have agreed to an experimentation for some extra money that involving drinking the miracle elixir). He wants to go through with his plan to annihilate laughter and/or make a ray that’ll make children prone to becoming violent to keep people from knowing that he’s not actually magical... as well as what his real name is, because you KNOW that wouldn’t be good for a ruler. When Krupp destroys everything, he opts to frame Krupp as someone out to ruin him and take over Oz with evil intentions to keep that attention on something else.

Anyway, it was something I did just for fun. As usual, I don’t mind sharing ideas with anyone else who is interested (though knowing me, I’d be more into developing the version that has Egg Casserole in it. I can do my best with the Kruppants one, even if I’m not a huge fan of it myself).

[imagine-wannaone]

Lai Guanlin Medical Au

Back and late as always~

> • You hadn’t expected to spend your Saturday night in the hospital,  >• But then who ever does except for doctors?  >• It’s been a while since you last saw the bright lights and overworked doctors and nurses, > • I mean it’s been a year, > • But as someone infamous for being incredibly clumsy, a year was a break,

> • It had started at the age of 6, breaking your arm, and then it’d just tumbled, > • From broken noses to crushed feet and bruised ribs, you’re sure that you’re at least 40% metal at this point, > • You’d be an awful superhero but you’re half way there, >• So you should be pretty used to pain by now, >• Hahahaha nope, > • Propped in a wheelchair in a busy part of the waiting room, you’re pretty happy to whine to your best friend, > • Who sits next to you, a veteran at accompanying you to the sterilised building after your accidents, > • But she was part of your reason for ending up there in the first place, > • It’d started a completely innocent day, hanging with your best friend, dancing goofily to songs on the radio and chatting endlessly,

> • But of course there’s always an element of boredom, which only means one thing for the two of you, > • Couples yoga, > • It’d always been a tradition for the two of you to try the weirdest couple yoga positions after you’d quit gymnastics together when you were 15, > • You’d actually become quite good tho??? > • Throw any weird position together and you’d find a way, > • It’s not yet known if you just liked throwing your best friend around or if you actually enjoyed the activity, > • During the warm up, a double plank, > • A move that you’d previously perfected despite the fact you now sat in a bustling hospital, > • You’d made a quick comment which had your friend bursting into a laughing fit, collapsing down onto your legs, > • Because you were always the bottom in yoga, stronger than your friend, > • Which made your pose break and your knee slammed in the ground, > • Okay maybe yoga isn’t the place for puns, > • (Isn’t everywhere the place for puns?), > • Or clumsy people, > • But now your knee looks a little off angle, and maybe a little swollen and yeah, maybe a little blue, > • Which really isn’t reassuring, > • And it’s screaming at you like a child having a tantrum in a toy store, > • Smh children are a lot of work, > • So your best friend listens to your complaining as you watch the waiting time leap from 4 hours to 5, > • That means you’ve got to sit in that all too familiar room for 3 more excruciatingly long hours, > • And one of the girls from the couple across from you has a bandage wrapped around her head and you feel bad for giggling at how cartoon-like it looks, > • But her girlfriend can’t seem to stop laughing at her, unable to fully meet her eyes without bursting into a new fit, > • Couple goals, > • I mean if you can’t laugh at each other what can you do? > • But while you have to wait a short lifetime, you also feel bad for all the nurses and doctors, rushed off their feet, as always, > • You pass your time by buying sweets from the vending machine and trying to throw them into your friends mouth, unable to move yourself, > • Which nearly ends in another broken bone, > • But tbh what a good place to break another bone, > • Then you’d be matching, > • And you make up people’s life stories as they walk/limp/roll past, > • Your friend naps on your shoulder and you wish your knee wasn’t keeping you awake, > • You’re pretty sure you can see the light when a nurse finally, finally, calls your name and you wheel the hell out of there, >  • One of the kids across from you had just started crying and it broke your heart, you just wanted to wrap him in blankets, > • You rolled to a stop and one of the doctors/ nurses (you were way too tired to try to be able to tell them apart) dropped into the seat opposite, > • He looked about as tired as you felt and you nearly sent him to go for a nap, > • But despite the tired eyes he still smiles at you and it’s 10/10, > • Like damn, > • A warm ass smile as well, not one of the mandatory ones, > • It warms your heart and you grin goofily back despite your knee, who does not like the notion of movement and protests heavily, > • He takes one look at your knee and is like whelp it’s screwed, > • Like yeah bruh, that’s why I’m here, > • So then you have to wait another half hour to get an x-ray, which is honestly awful, > • Not only are you getting radiation blasted at you, they have to move you, > • While you understand that they have to find out what’s actually wrong with your cursed knee, > • You don’t want to understand because it’s easier to complain when you’re ignorant, > • (Whoop too real here sorry) > • You eventually end up back on a bed with doctor Lai again, full circle, > • He cracks another heart warming, full gummy smile when you tell him how you’ve broken your kneecap, to which your friend hangs her head in fake shame and you grin, > • Cus his smile is damn intoxicating, > • That smile makes your head tingle; heart flutter, >  • So you’re infinitely glad you’re not hooked to one of those heart rate monitors, > • So after Doctor Lai confirms you’ve broken your kneecap, which is really a surprise to no one, > • He confirms you don’t need surgery and you thank the universe for being less mean than it could have been, > • You know what pain is coming when he says he’s going to cast it, > • His hands look delicate though so you comfort yourself with the knowledge you haven’t got a rough ass nurse casting your leg, > • But then you also have an extremely handsome doctor/nurse seeing you at your, admittedly not lowest, point (but still pretty low), > • Getting ready to cry because you can’t actually bend your leg, > • But when he passes you that gas, > • Oh boi it’s like a whole different you, > • It still burns like hell and you wanna scream but your mind just takes a laid back view on life, > • “You must be tired but you’re still beautiful like wow what’s your skin care?” > • You giggle from the laughing gas, not comprehending at all, > • Your friend has to leave the room from their overflowing giggles, second hand embarrassment and their imagination at your future horror at what just spilled out of your uncontrolled mouth, > • Lai’s cheeks redden > • You make sure to tell him it’s adorable, > • And he chuckles with a shake of his head, > • And then pain shoots up your leg and you cry out again, tears trailing down your face as you breath into the gas,

>  • But apparently you’re brain is still having a chill time, > • Your head is completely confused because this shit hurts, you’re crying, but yOU GOTTA LAUGH, > • “I don’t think you need my skin care routine to be honest, you look pretty cute already,” > • His words muffle your pain further and you giggle > • From the gas or from the compliment, a literal doctor cannot tell, > • “Well thank you, that’s a compliment and a half seeing as it’s coming from you,” > • Lai smiles shyly as he finishes setting your cast, eyes jumping to you as the gas wears off, > • And then it hits you, > • Oh man it hits you like a damn truck, full on and straight to the chest, > • I mean you already knew laughing gas had a stronger reaction on you than most, but you did not expect this, > • You wanna apologize to the doctor but you actually can’t make eye contact, > • You go through the usual, Lai giving you the rundown on what to do next and where to get your meds, > • He wraps his arm around your shoulders to help you shuffle off the bed and makes sure you’re steady enough on your crutches before shaking your hand, > • You finally manage to meet his eyes and practically melt, > • His eyes are tired, yes, but still warm and welcoming and his smile numbs your burning pain and it’s your time to blush before shuffling out of there, > • Your friend greets you buckets of laughter and it’s really what you need, > • That is until you see some pen scrawled onto your cast, something black and shiny standing against the cast, > • You plop down onto a chair, > • Even though you don’t know if you’ll be able to get back up again, > • And your best friend reads you a series of numbers scrawled quickly into the casts white surface, > • Above the number, > • “I’ll share my skincare secrets over a coffee” > • And really nothing has ever been more tempting, > • Guanlin has a busy ass schedule being a doctor, but he always finds time for you, > • Which really amazes you tbh, > • Your little dates are always laid back, because being a doctor is tiring AF, > • And it really suits you because what’s better than just lying around together chatting, or catching a coffee with cake(!!), > • Or playing truth or dare, > • Which is, not gunna lie, kinda dangerous but you gotta live life on edge™ > • And then when Guanlin has a weekend off and he has more energy, it makes the days where you go to theme parks or actually go outside even more special, > • And you’re on a chilled back date when Guanlin doodles over your admittedly bare cast, > • And it’s actually really cute and creative and you’re glad you had previously gone for a minimalistic theme, > • And when you heal you teach Guanlin your couples yoga poses, > • As your bestie had insisted it was a cute couple idea, > • And the fact that yoga had actually bought you together, > • And he gets the hang of it quickly and it’s really good for the two of you because Guanlin has a high stress job so the yoga relaxes the both of you, > • You become one of those couples you see on Instagram with all the crazy poses, looking cute af, > • lmao ‘goals’ > • But yanno, Guanlin really does teach you his skincare secrets and you don’t know if you’ve ever looked healthier, > • But you also don’t know if that’s the routine of the fact you’ve never been happier,

[stephnyyy]

i forgot about this place and due to my current situation, i find myself back on this website. I haven’t done this in years, but i just needed to get this out, so here goes:

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

let’s see, when i was in college, specifically between the ages of 18-21, I was obsessed with Tumblr and I used to escape for hours and hours on here because I couldn’t deal with my home life and, well college wasn’t at all like  I thought it would be. Back then I hadn’t realized how much trauma i had overcome or how much more i was about experience firsthand, but I was so depressed and I spent most of my days fixated on what my life was going to be like after college. I believed fully that I had done everything right that could have been done and once i was graduated, things were going to get better and work themselves out and then i would have the life that i had pictured for myself.

and now that the decade is about to end, i cant help but reflect on what i thought i wanted, what i actually got and what my next steps are going to be..

see, 18 year old Stephanie just wanted to move out from home and live on my own without my brothers and their drama constantly terrorizing me. She wanted to be thin and loved and to be a teacher because she didn’t know how else to help without having to enter the medical field or become a lawyer or politician. Most importantly, she just wanted to be wanted and to finally be happy. But by the time I graduated from college, things had already drastically changed. I had weighed the most i have ever weighed in my entire life, i lost 15 pounds on my own, and realized that the system was fucked and there was nothing i could actually do to help anyone because they were all just immediate forms of help but nothing that would actually make substantial. long lasting change, unless we dismantled the systems that oppress us.

naturally, i had constant break downs coupled with my already existing and unaddressed depression, making me suicidal. As my undergrad career was coming to an end, i came to see that the happiness i thought would be waiting for me along with my diploma wasn’t coming at all, that the life i had chosen for myself was one full of constant uncertainty and that i had  absolutely NO fucking clue what to do.

the thing is that when you're a high school student going into college with these doubts, it’s normal. But by the time you're done with college, you are supposed to have a fucking clue, that’s part of the deal, it’s why tuition is so god damn expensive, ~the experience~

but there i was, as fat as ever, and a sad lonely virgin who had existential depression along with actual depression cus of my unhealed, untouched trauma that was always bubbling underneath the surface. That’s when i decided that there was only way out. One way for me to never become a burden on anyone.

but i woke up the next day. and it gave me clarity for the remaining months left in my college career. shit moved pretty quickly after that. I experienced more loss, then a whole lot of firsts, and then some more hurt. only this time, i knew that it was hurt and i rolled with the punches until i couldn't anymore. It nearly broke me, but i asked for help. I asked for help and that’s when they told me that i had Major Depressive Disorder, Anxiety Disorder and Panic Disorder, the perfect hurricane of drama. By the time this happened, i had experience working at different places, and had lost so much that i was essentially in survival mode since the day that  i tried to take my own life, which if i  had to put a number to it was about 4 years. FOUR FUCKING YEARS.

we can only take so much, though. and people will tell you that there are other people who are going through worse and then there are those who will tell you that everything happens for a reason, or that god doesn’t put anything in our path that we can’t handle. and about 99% of the time people say these things because they have good intentions and want to make you fell better. Yes, this is thoughtful, but it doesn’t help. Like at all.

from all of my first hand experience with shitty, painful, real life situations the one thing i have learned is that we have to feel it, all of it, in order to heal and move on from it. I’m not sure if it’s a societal thing, but most of us just want to be happy. the way that we as individuals define happiness or the route towards happiness depends on each individual, right? Duh. But my point is that we all experience hurt in some way or another, we all have our own stories, and without a doubt i know that if we took the time to hear from other’s we would be nothing less than shocked to learn what the other has gone through. But the only way to ever really be happy is to let yourself feel the other feelings, especially the ones that are uncomfortable, the ones that you consciously tell yourself to push as far back into the darkest corner of your being because you’re afraid what’s going to happen if you allow yourself permission to go there. The only way to really be happy is to be in touch with your emotions on a daily basis. All emotions need to be felt. Understand that they are not all pleasant, but if you are feeling some type of way, you owe yourself that much to understand why you feel that way. Because what i have also learned form watching the people i loved destroy themselves is that those emotions will manifest themselves in other ways, in much worse ways than if you had just let yourself be sad or mad in the first place.

it’s not easy. and it never really ever gets any easier. but you do get past it. and it happens gradually and then, one day you’ll look back and see for yourself that you made it through. Cus you are resilient. The trauma you went through isn’t what made you stronger, it was your resiliency in spite of everything that did that. YOU did that. YOU survived. and you are still here.

so when i look back on what happened on 12/19/19, i’ll remember the panic attacks and all the tears, but i’ll also remember how i still didn't break.