#Carol: he's mourning. give him a moment

[qierxing]

A/N: An interpreted continuation of @shiny-jr wonderful fic. (checks calendar) Uhm, happy three month update to this series AND 1k notes on the first part! I would say sorry for the wait, but I really did need it LOL. Anyway, it's not super obvious, but the timeline is a bit all over the place in this part, because I'm jumping back and forth between past and present.

TW/CW: Immolation, violence, implied stalking+actual stalking, obsessive behavior, mild psychological and body horror, toxic relationships, Yuu uses it/its pronouns, we get a little meta in here, the boys are FIGHTINGGG I. II. | Isekai AU | Yan! Heartslabyul x Reader

“Who are you?” said the Caterpillar.

This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, “I—I hardly know, Sir, just at present—at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.”

“What do you mean by that?” said the Caterpillar, sternly. “Explain yourself!”

“I ca’n’t explain myself, I’m afraid, Sir,” said Alice, “because I am not myself, you see.”

— Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Caroll

vi. Mourning

It is incredibly hard to get Yuu alone.

Whether it be by the forces of fate or just because so many vie for their attention, there is rarely, if ever, any time when someone is able to spend time personally alongside them. The only exception to this rule is Grim, who was practically the player's companion from the beginning.

So when Ace Trappola manages a rare chance to snag some one on one time with Yuu, he guns for it. Course, he had to time it perfectly. 

It was just another night like any other. Ace and Deuce decided to come over to hang out for a casual sleepover as usual. The four of them did initially start out studying, before the textbooks and worksheets were being abandoned in favor of more exciting things, such as the deck of cards that Ace brought with him.

Sending Deuce and Grim off to get snacks through a won bet over a card game was easy as pie.

"Hey Ace?" 

He hums in response, letting Yuu know he's listening. His nimble fingers shuffle the worn cards, flipping through them with practiced ease. Stacking them up quickly, he wonders if he should try to impress Yuu with another card trick to gain their enthralled praise.

"Do you…like…being my friend?"

The question makes him blink and look up in surprise at Yuu. It feels blasphemous to hear such doubt lingering in their words.

"Why? Scared I'm gonna ditch ya?" He teases.

Yuu doesn't respond, only giving a sheepish smile back. 

"I-It's not like I don't like being friends with you." He tries to keep his cool. "I just-"

Yuu's smile doesn't falter. "It's okay, Ace."

He's reminded of his previous girlfriend in middle school. It was more of a fling than a serious thing, but it's something he remembers vividly. Their breakup, after all, was rather dramatic.

"You're too much, Ace. Sometimes you just take it too far." 

What was even her name? Elizabeth? He could barely even remember, but for some reason, he still recalls the intense way her face was twisted in burning resentment. He tried to bury it in the past. He swore he would never fall in love or get into another relationship, preferring friendships over any kind of romantic trysts.

Now that he looks at Yuu, he already knows he's screwed up big time.

Yuu's gaze is no longer meeting his, instead staring into the fireplace that Grim had so generously set up earlier. The crackling blue flames reflect in their irises and in that moment, dread curls inside Ace's stomach. Yuu doesn't seem right.

"Hey…you okay?" He asks hesitantly, placing a hand on their shoulder.

Yuu doesn't move, still staring at the fire intently. He opens his mouth to ask again, but then they speak.

"If I wasn't acting like myself, would you still like me?" 

Another question out of left field. 

"Even if you somehow grow anemones on your head, Yuu's still Yuu, right?" His heart swells in pride at the way their lips quirk at his inside joke. 

"Yeah…" they murmur back. 

"Wanna see somethin' cool?" he says, holding out a card. Yuu tilts their head questioningly.

"It's the ace of hearts. What about it?"

"It's not just the ace of hearts!" Ace puffs out his cheeks. "Don't you know the meaning of this card?"

Yuu shakes their head.

"It means good news for yourself or someone close. Practically a lucky charm!" Ace waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "So how can things go wrong now that you have me?"

Yuu snorts and shoves him playfully. "Yeah, yeah, okay, Mr. Lucky Charm."

But it works. The foggy clouds clear from Yuu's eyes, finally returning them to the familiar luster he's used to. For the rest of the night, there is no hint of hollowness within them. And Ace hopes he will never see that sight again.

-

He should've known something was up since that night.

When Headmaster Crowley personally makes an appearance at their dorm, he should've realized it then. If there was anything that the old raven hated more, it was having to do more work than usual. 

"That person wasn't an imposter." Crowley says, coughing awkwardly into his fist.

The solemn words echo in his head on end. The rest of the Headmaster's words start to tune out for Ace. Automatically, his legs begin to move on their own. The calls of the others chase after him, but he ignores them, racing out of the lounge and towards the mirror portal.

Because if you didn't hurt Yuu-

-then what had he done?

When he first arrived in NRC, he didn't even know that Ramshackle dorm existed. Not until Yuu came to reside there; until he had to beg for shelter from them when he was chained with that damn collar. He knew that they didn't have to take him in. But they did, and maybe that's why Ace couldn't turn his back after that. 

The building before him is no longer the broken down hovel that he remembers back then. He remembers how the roof was almost caving in and wooden beams were always in danger of collapsing. Each knock on the entrance doors would send cascades of dust upon his head. Now, the walls are painted with a fresh coat of paint, the roof has new shingles, and the place actually looks like a house you could safely live in. 

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Prefect! Are you there?!" He yells, desperation leaking into his voice. "Please!"

Bang! Bang!

He's gotta be out of his damn mind, acting like some crazy person. But he can't help but be blinded by his fear. So he keeps hitting the door with his fists, praying, hoping, for…well that someone would open the door.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Yuu!!" He screams, and his voice echoes around him, mocking his helplessness. His fists are becoming numb from slamming the wood so hard, but he can't stop himself.

"Yuu–!"

"Oi! Ace!!!" A rough hand on his shoulder shoves him back and before he could knock the souvnabit-

"Ace, look at me!"

He's stopped by Deuce's fists meeting his in an even match of strength. Like an illusion broken, Ace stills and yanks his hands back.

There's only heavy breathing in between them for a long while. 

"...they're not here." Ace snaps to look at Deuce, who only closes his eyes in a painful grimace.

"What do you mean, 'not here'?" Ace asks.

Deuce doesn't say anything for a beat.

"What do you mean they're–"

"They're in the infirmary." Deuce's words flow out in a breathless rush. "The Headmaster said that after you ran."

Fuck, he just acted like an idiot then. No wonder no one was responding to his absolute earth shattering door banging and yelling. Then the meaning of Deuce's words begin to sink in. Oh Seven, no–

He turns and before he could even step in the direction of the main building, his arm is yanked back.

He snarls at Deuce. "Let me go! I have to see the prefect!"

"Housewarden is calling you back." Deuce forces out through gritted teeth and closed eyes. "The Headmaster said that…they don't want to see anyone."

And like a fire put out, Ace's anger chokes to flickering embers.

He lets Deuce guide him back, all the way from the Ramshackle dorm, to the mirror portal, and then back to Heartslabyul's lounge where the other three are grimly awaiting them.

Ace half expects to be yelled at once he passes the threshold. Or get some kind of lecture on how he should have better manners than to just run off like that. It would've been just like his housewarden to only care about weird, arbitrary rules when there were other arguably more important matters.

But his housewarden sits silently on his gilded velvet throne with glassy eyes. There's no anger burning behind them, and the freshmen are terrified to see their once proud and fearsome queen reduced to this husk. He almost would rather him back to the state where he was barking out orders for them. The silence in the lounge is deafening.

Ace swears they must be all thinking the same thing.

Please let this be a bad dream.

-

He tried calling you. Texting you. Hell, he even tried messaging you on Magicam! Magicam, of all things! 

Anxiety claws at his heart with each unread message and dial voice tone greeting. He has so much to say, to ask for-

Deuce wasn't faring well on his side either. He had also tried calling and texting you, to no avail. Grim, that traitor, hadn't come back to visit Heartslabyul at all since the incident. Never mind the fact he had only himself to blame for that—he thought at the very least the cat direbeast would have some sense of pity for their friendship and throw them a bone. 

Ace tried two more times to meet you. 

First, during your infirmary stay, when you were still unconscious.

The second time was when you returned to Ramshackle dorm with Grim.

Maybe the Seven were punishing him for his hubris. Or he supposes this is just karma. Because both times, he fails spectacularly at the front door of Heartslabyul. Because of this, he's the reason why Riddle had put them all on house arrest (with the exception of academic reasons, of course).

It's a declaration that would've been met with mutiny from all of them, if it weren't for the fact that even Headmaster Crowley had explicitly forbade anyone from showing up on Ramshackle's doorstep or trying to meet you. So he understands. Really! He does. He's seen how Riddle holes up in his room, muttering to himself while carrying out boxes upon boxes of crumpled paper. When he manages to snag a stray paper that flutters out on garbage day, Ace realizes that Riddle is also just as frenzied trying to reach out to you. Even if he is going about it in an old fashioned way.

He'll chip in to help. If his housewarden is left to his own devices, they’ll all be fossils by the time he sends what he deems a satisfactory letter. 

And the faster they do this, the faster they have a chance of reaching you.

vii. Embalming

The most horrifying thing is that it doesn't seem to care about dying.

That cursed pile of ceramic shards had disappeared—no, pieced itself back together—and once again, it became the smiling face of Yuu, the being they all knew and used to adore.

Riddle Rosehearts immediately smashed it to pieces again under the weight of his magic.

No one had tried to stop their housewarden. Not even the faceless mobs. Even if they were all alarmed at the erratic behavior of their housewarden, they could not deny the fear of seeing something dead come back alive. With not so much as a dent or wound in them, for that matter.

The third time it happened, Riddle ordered for the remains to be dumped into the school’s incinerator at the highest heat level. Surely, that would be enough. 

He watched as the incinerator roared and shuddered, shaking as if the pits of hell had opened. After a few agonizing minutes, the rumbling stops, and before he can even breathe a sigh of relief, the iron hatches creak open, and out strolls Yuu, perfectly fine and pieced together again.

It's magic. Or some kind of century old curse. Of course it is. After all, it was at a higher power than even Draconia's comprehension. Why he didn't consider the possibility beforehand is something he berates himself now. 

What might be the most damning thing is that it has no fear or suspicion in its face; even after the multiple times it’s been maimed and torn apart. Not like you, who immediately closed themselves off at being hurt so thoroughly. 

The irony isn't lost on him. The temptation of letting the puppet take its place back in favor of just bringing everything back to how it was is something Riddle could not deny. But now that he's actually met you, Yuu just seems more of a shadow of what he remembers during your interactions together.

It has your face. It acts like you.

But it's not you.

When Ace asks after the commotion at the Unbirthday party on how he was able to figure out that it wasn’t [First], he had to take a moment to gather his thoughts. Ace’s face changes into something of disbelief when Riddle merely replies with: “[First] takes their tea with two sugars and a dash of milk.”

“You were so sure only because of that?”

He doesn’t want to think what Ace’s face would look like if he had explained his whole list of reasons how he realized that the puppet wasn’t you. How he soaked up as much as he could when you came over for the tea party. Your expressions, your little habits, the way you fidget…it was all filed away in Riddle's head and later, his private notebook.

But that doesn’t matter now. Now, there’s an even bigger problem than the puppet resurrecting itself.

Grim is missing again.

This alone should've been more worrying than anything for Yuu, but it merely shrugs and says it’s not sure where he scampered off to. He's more than suspicious, of course, but there is no proof, which is infuriating already.

But without Grim, they are missing the key to finding [First]. 

The others raise hell once they hear the news Riddle reports at the weekly housewarden meeting. A new wave of tension washes over NRC and with it, an unprecedented deep disdain for the puppet. It returns back to classes unannounced, making Ace and Deuce rant to him about how weird it is that it’s trying so hard to act like nothing had happened. It attends school events with their camera, drumming up conversations like normal between all of them; despite the fact it gets ignorance or violence in response (depending on the person it greets).

But none of them are really sure on how to interact with Yuu.

The nicer ones, like Trey or Deuce, entertain Yuu with frigidly civil responses, in hopes of boring the puppet and making it flit away to another victim. Meanwhile, he and Ace have finally come together on an agreed opinion: that they would rather die before letting the puppet even think it could take [First]’s place.

“Go away.”

Yuu merely smiles in response to Riddle’s annoyed voice. The puppet leisurely lounges in the chair across the table from him. The school library is vast but empty, his authoritative voice echoing down the long halls. Several floating books flit past above their heads and the chandeliers above flicker with bright candlelight.

“I just wanted to keep you company.” Riddle purses his mouth in disgust. It’s invasive, it’s gross, and most of all it feels wrong to hear those words coming from Yuu. 

“I didn’t ask for your company,” he replies coldly. “Shouldn’t you know that it’s bad manners to bother someone who wants to be left alone?”

“I don’t think you like being left alone, Riddle.” He flinches at the way Yuu’s eyes bore into him. “Well, then again, you sure like to pretend you’re fine, don’t you?”

His hand tightens around the textbook he’s reading about cursed dolls. There would be no point if he brought out his magical pen and reduced it to rubble. But he is tempted, if only to get some peace and quiet for just a few minutes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Riddle says.

“Hmm…” Yuu hums into its hand, “...then I suppose I will just let you be. What a shame, I had something entertaining to tell.”

“What? What do you mean?” 

Yuu giggles and waves him off. “No, no! You said you didn’t want my company now. Why should I tell you anything?”

He resists the urge to incinerate the book in his hands. “Fine! I would like your company. What is this ‘entertaining’ thing you want to tell me so badly?”

“Hmm…how insincere,” Yuu tilts its head coyly with a smile more akin to a smirk. “But I guess that’s the most I can get.”

“Since you’ve all been driving yourselves crazy, [First] is safe.” The floor feels like it’s been yanked underneath him. The puppet is smiling still, as if it’s all some big joke rather than the revelation it delivered. He can hear his blood roaring through his ears.

“You…” Riddle snarls, face heating into a bright red rage. “What did you do to them?”

It bursts into laughter at his face. 

“Why, I only granted their wish!”

Its laughter is cut short by the sound of ceramic being crushed, and Riddle is left shakily breathing at the pile of shards that used to be Yuu. The puppet’s words churn over and over in his head.

What did you wish for? 

-

It is currently 3:20 on a Wednesday afternoon. 

In his planner, the bullet point neatly penned on the schedule shows ‘Studying for History Test’ in bold blue ink for the time slot. ‘History of the Queendom of Roses’ is laid open on his desk, to the chapter about the local mythos of the area, just as he intended. His notes from lecture are next to it, with several of his stationary needed to jot down annotations. 

And yet, Riddle has yet to touch any of these items or actually adhere to his daily schedule—he’s too distracted by what he should do in order to reach the player.

Riddle's already embarrassed enough, resorting to handwritten letters with the best calligraphy he can muster. He's sent only a couple that passed his satisfaction, and they have all been met with judgemental silence. He’s hunched over another crumpled letter near ripping his hair out when someone knocks on his bedroom door. He quickly shoves the envelope under some textbooks out of frantic instinct.

“Come in.”

A familiar bob of red orange hair pops out behind his door, and Riddle raises an eyebrow at the underclassman who enters.

“Ace? What is it?” Normally, Ace would never be in his room if he could help it. If he was in Riddle’s room, it most likely meant he was either being scolded or punished. And Ace’s eyes are shifting side to side, as if he was trying to sneak his way in. 

“Out with it, Ace.” He’s not in the mood for the underclassman’s shenanigans.

“Housewarden, you’re writing letters to the prefect, aren’t ya?” The question completely takes him off-guard sputtering.

“W-What does t-that have to do with you?” He tries to maintain his composure, but Ace is already giving him a smug smirk for the one up on him. Of all people, it had to be him finding out. 

"I had an idea, Housewarden. Why don't we send them something with the letter?" Riddle blinks in surprise.

“...How smart of you for once, Ace.” It was so simple, yet he marvels at the idea's brilliance. Perhaps there was merit in trying this proposal.

“Hey! What the hell does that mean?!” His underclassman snaps back in a huff. “Whatever, point being, maybe we should switch it up instead of letters all the time.”

He crosses his arms, “And what do you suggest? There’s not much we can really send that hasn't been sent already by other dorms.”

Ace winces. Clearly he didn’t think about the other dorms with more affluent people; people who had more than enough thaumarks and prestige to spend it to appeal to you. Riddle can't blame him either: although he is at the top of the school and his parents are well known mages, it's not like any of that could help him here. All of them, in a sense, were stuck in that situation. 

For once, he starts to resent not having more.

"Ugh, well…maybe it doesn't need to be so fancy, you know?" Ace rubs his neck, face scrunched in frustration. "Like…uh…you know-flowers! People send flowers all the time, yeah?"

This is true. And for Queendom of Roses’ residents, it has become custom to send bouquets with subtle messages left in petals and stems. Although he is a bit loath to admit that he isn’t as well versed in the language of flowers compared to hedgehogs.

"And what do you recommend, Ace?" He asks. "What would be the best flower to send to the prefect in our circumstance?"

"We got all these roses, why not send them that?" Ace responds, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Riddle coughs in annoyance. 

"Why not just procure some from Sam's shop? Today is Wednesday. Do you not remember rule 228?" He chides. Ace groans, rolling his eyes. 

"Not the weird rules again…"

"Ace."

"Yeeesss Housewarden…" The card soldier mock salutes with a deadpan expression. "I'll see if we can get some flowers at Sam's."

"You better, or else it's–" 

"-off with my head, I got it, I got it." Riddle seethes as Ace cuts him off and dashes out of his room before he could get another word in. So troublesome…

Still, there's nothing to do except wait for his card soldier to report back. He turns back to his desk, bringing out the crumpled letter from its hiding place. Running a hand over the crumpled pages, he attempts to pick up his pen again, but fails as his thoughts begin to wander. 

Riddle only manages to pen a couple legible sentences when his door slams open, banging against the wall. He almost falls out of his chair in shock from the loud noise. How was Ace back so quickly?

"Have you not heard of knocking?!" He scowls, turning around to see Ace panting and sweating as if he had run a marathon.

"Never mind that, Housewarden, I saw them!" Ace shouts. 

“What are you jabbering…” Riddle trails off in realization. “You better not be horsing around, Ace.”

“Do you think I would lie to you about this?” Ace retorts frantically. “I saw them at Sam’s shop working the cashier!”

For a moment, his mind races with this information. If you were working at Sam’s shop, it would explain why you weren’t showing up to classes, let alone in the hallways or rooms of NRC. It’s a clever ruse—classes may be over during this time of day, but nearly all of them were participating in mandatory club activities or study labs. No wonder no one else has caught on to this. Riddle rubs his chin in thought, settling back in his chair.

“What are you going to do now, Housewarden Riddle?” Ace asks hesitantly. His eyes are filled with some kind of anticipation and hope, no doubt wondering if he could get some leeway in his own agenda. Normally, he would go right away as there was no need to hesitate about these kinds of things.

But. Crowley’s stern announcement comes back to his mind and guilt starts to creep in. 

“First, we’ll go with your idea, Ace.” He responds. “The ban hasn’t been lifted, after all.” Ace opens his mouth to protest, but he holds a hand up to interrupt him.

“But if that doesn’t work, then I’m sure even Crowley can’t say anything about coincidences.”

viii. Calling Hours

“I’m not joking around, you two.” 

There’s very few times that the vice housewarden of Heartslabyul gets truly mad. His patience seems boundless, honed by years of taking care of younger siblings at home and then dealing with rowdy underclassmen in NRC. But even his saint-like patience could only stretch so far.  

“I told you, we didn’t do it!” Ace scowls with furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms. Meanwhile, Deuce is silent by his side, face twisted with conflicting emotions. “You don’t even have proof! You just singled us out just because!”

“Who else was around the kitchen when I left it?” Trey asks, voice starting to rise in anger. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you two lurking around before?”

The two freshmen began to speak out, voices rambling over each other and cascading into a loud shouting match that was barely intelligible.

“We just wanted to see if we could get something from the fridge, how were we supposed to know someone would-”

“Me and Ace just wanted to bring something along when we deliver the Housewarden’s invitation to-”

"You dumbass, don't just say that out loud-!"

It’s at this moment that Cater Diamond strolls in, takes one look at the mess of the situation and does a 180 back round to the door. But it’s too late, because the interruption is just enough for Ace to sink his hooks into him.

“Cater-senpai, you believe us, right?” Ace shouts after the orange head, making him flinch in place. “You saw us get the order from Housewarden Riddle!”

Cater turns around slowly like a door on rusty hinges, with an expression that screams of not wanting to be involved. "Oh Acey! Uhm, you mean the letter Riddle gave you two-"

"Yes!" Deuce interrupts in earnest, already trying to barrel his way to proving his innocence. "Housewarden Riddle entrusted us to deliver the tea party invitation ourselves personally." 

Cater turns to Trey, who is rubbing the bridge of his nose, eyes closed with a tiredness that seems comically reminiscent of an old man. "Well, I'm not sure what this is all about, Trey, but maybe you should cut 'em some slack and let it go."

The other senior nods in reluctant agreement and the two freshmen all but nearly trample over each other trying to run from the tension filled room. But they're stopped in their tracks when Trey calls out again.

"Wait, you two." The duo slowly looks back with cautious eyes.

"You wanted to bring something to the prefect, didn't you?" Trey tilts his head to one of the many strange topsy turvey cabinets in the kitchen. "I have some leftover cookies that I made yesterday. Take them. I'm sorry for accusing you guys like that."

Ace and Deuce exchange confused glances, and although Ace looks away in denial, Deuce nods in gratitude. They leave the kitchen just as chaotically, this time with the aroma of lavender following them.

A brief silence follows their absence, while Cater raises an eyebrow at Trey.

"Sooo…care to spill the tea?"

"Don't even start." Trey groans.

Cater seats himself on one of the stools near the counter, waiting. Trey busies himself with cleaning the stoves and counter, trying not to meet Cater's eyes. Silence falls, but it's with none of the comfort that Cater is familiar with. Giving up, he turns to his phone, refreshing his Magicam dash mindlessly. This continues for a good while until finally—

A low sigh, then– "Somebody took my candied violets."

Cater looks up from his phone. Another beat passes, and he realizes it's not a passing statement. 

"It's not like you to get this bent out of shape over your ingredients going MIA." Cater shifts his face onto the elbow meeting pristine marble while shoving his phone away. "You sure that one of the froshes didn't just end up taking them thinking they were for everyone?"

Trey lets out a rough guffaw. "You know better than I do that the others don't touch our stuff."

Cater taps his fingers on the polished white granite, hands already itching to grab his phone and check for updates, but he restrains himself. "That's…mostly true."

"That can only mean one of you guys has taken it." The hairs on Cater's neck raise at Trey's tone.

"Hey now," Cater grins, raising his hands in mock surrender, "you heard it from those two. I was with Riddle when he gave them that invitation."

"I know." Cater's fingers twitch as Trey carelessly tossed aside the rag used to clean the counter into a bucket. The soggy fabric makes a hollow sound against the wood, echoing rather loudly in contrast. "But Riddle would never do such a thing either."

Cater resists the urge to roll his eyes. It's true that their cute housewarden would hardly dare to stoop to thievery, but Trey's blind faith in him can be annoying at times. After all, didn't their little teapot tyrant threaten to kill the prefect at one point?

He supposes that was his fault, though.

"Then it's back to square one." Cater shrugs. "Besides, what were you even planning to do with them if you weren't gonna eat it?"

The baker runs a hand through his mussed forest green hair and frowns. "I was going to bake a cake with them as a peace offering to the prefect."

Cater's mouth forms an 'o' shape in realization. "That's pretty big brain."

"Yeah, but look how that turned out."

"It's fine~you were able to at least send cookies this time round." Cater finally cracks, digging into his pocket for the familiar grooves of his phone case. "All's well that ends well, right?"

Trey doesn't respond and Cater is too engrossed in his phone to look up to see his expression. He slides off the stool naturally, tapping through recent posts and comments, eyes laser focused on recent posts on his dash. 

"Cater." 

There it is. It's the most recent story reel by Ace(according to the time stamp, about two minutes ago). It's an inconspicuous black out picture with several cute teapot and teacup stickers decorating the screen. The banner message is short and sweet: 'Dorm tea party bout to get real this month 🤔����'

"Cater." Cater's attention snaps back and towards his friend, who gazes at him with dark eyes.

"Please don't lie to me next time."

With that, Cater watches as his long time friend finally leaves the kitchen. 

Thank the Seven he did. He might have been a decent actor, but Trey has been with him through thick and thin, and it's given him the annoying ability to see through his tells.

Really now. Trey knows that he hates sweets. Shouldn't that be enough of an alibi?

It's not fair that Trey already has everything to set him up for a good relationship with you. Even if they're all set back by their violent reaction to you arriving in this world, he's sure it would only take a couple tries with Trey offering genuine heartfelt food to get to you.

It's just not fair. 

Isn't he fun to hang out with? He consistently gets compliments online for his suave looks and easy personality. So why couldn't he compare to-

He shakes his head. There's no point in overthinking it now. Cay Cay #3 had easily taken the cutely decorated jar of violets and discarded it in the dorm dumpster. Like candy from a baby.

He knows it's petty. But for once, he feels much better, knowing that he upset Trey's original plans to ensnare you.

Now, he once again checks Ace's story reel and screenshots it, while quickly pulling up the search bar. He just needs to level the playing field.

-

There can only be one fake bitch in this house and Cater has had enough of the competition.

“I wasn’t aware that you were going to visit me, Cater.” 

The puppet tilts its head with a warm smile, but there’s a frosty undercurrent to the greeting. It’s clear that he’s not welcome, if the way it’s blocking the doorway of Ramshackle has anything to say.

“Yeah, I ended up losing something here. You mind if I look for it, Yuu-chan?” Cater asks innocently. “Promise it won’t take too long.”

“Hm, sure. But I don’t think you’ll find what you’re looking for.” Yuu's grin is sharp as a razor blade. It knows what he’s here for and it’s definitely taunting him. That little–

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to look~” He responds back airily. His fist curls around his phone in his pocket tightly. The puppet shrugs and walks off, leaving him standing in the doorway.

It’s been a while since he’s personally been at Ramshackle dorm. Cater remembers how Ace complained about the house being a real fixer upper, but then again, he doesn’t remember much of that, since Yuu always spent most of the time at Heartslabyul dorm. The renovations certainly made it much more pleasing to the eye and more importantly, livable by HOA standards.

There’s nothing to write home about the living room. The coffee table is bare and there’s no wrinkles in the sofa cushions at all. It’s a little eerie—as if no one even lived in the house in the first place. The only sign of living was perhaps the fact it is clean of dust or dirt. 

Nothing in the kitchen either. He gives a wayward glance to the second floor, searching for any signs of movement. Couldn’t hurt to be thorough. 

Rows of tall doors pass by as Cater opens each one of them. A storage closet, a spare room, an electric cabinet, another storage area–it all blurs by after the fourth door. There really is nothing, as if the whole house has been wiped of any trace of you. He's about to toss in the towel when an old, dusty memory crops up. His little freshman, Ace. Cater swears he had been making fun of Yuu for seeing strange things at night. Something about a mouse?

Right, their room! Why didn't he think of looking there?  

His feet take him rapidly from memory to the door that was the third from last in the hallway in the east wing. He manages to wrench the door open to see a regular bedroom, bed sheets barely stirred. Before he can even put one foot in, a throat clears behind him. 

"It's rather rude to go into other people's bedrooms, don't you think?"

You got to be kidding me. Cater turns around with the fakest smile plastered across his face. Yuu looks unamused, tapping its foot impatiently against the wooden floorboards. 

"Just wanted to make sure, y'know?" Cater replies. Yuu gives a tight smile back. It goes around him and shuts the door with a hard thunk.

"Ever heard about how curiosity killed the cat?" 

Cater shakes his head in surrender, "I guess I need to look elsewhere for my lost item."

The entrance doors slam shut behind him hard enough to startle several birds out the dead trees in the yard. Cater doesn't bother giving a look back as he strides out of the yard and past the gated fence surrounding the property. That glimpse was enough and much more. Cater smirks to himself, taking his phone out and sending a quick text message to the group chat. Yes, curiosity may have killed the poor kitty cat…

But satisfaction brought it back.

viiii. Eulogy

It might surprise people to know that Trey Clover's first real friend is Che'nya Pinker.

That's not to say that Trey had trouble getting along with others as a kid, oh no. Everyone in his neighborhood agreed that he was a very sweet boy, who looked out for others around him. When he wasn’t taking care of his baby sister, he would be asked by other parents around the block to look after their own children, whether that be playing soccer games with the more energetic kids or patty cakes with the quiet ones. So it isn’t a stretch to say that he’s friends with nearly everyone. But Che’nya was a special case.

Their first meeting is still burned into Trey’s memory.

“You see it too, don’cha?” The boy had greeted him while swinging upside down on a low hanging tree branch. Trey had half a mind to scold him for the dangerous action before he actually looked at him. 

The first thing that takes Trey off guard is that he has eyes. They’re a shiny yellow, just a shade lighter than his. His pupils are long and thin, not round like his at all. He supposes it must be like a cat’s pupils—for he’s never seen anything like it. Then it’s his unique colorful hair, streaks of light pink intermingling with dark purple, making a strange striped pattern across the chopped uneven hair. Trey faintly recalls a certain cat from their local legends, whose fur boasted those very same colors. 

“...What are you talking about?” Trey eyes him warily. The cat boy gives a cheeky grin. He vanishes and then reappears in front of him, albeit with missing arms.

“The people around us who wear the faces of strangers.” Trey’s skin gets goosebumps at the way the boy observes him. He is not looking through Trey, but at him. Their eyes are directly making contact. “But you’re different. You have the face of a friend.”

“And what do you mean by that?” Trey furrows his eyebrows. The boy's grin stretches wider in response. (His teeth were rather blunter than expected, but his canines were pointed.)

“You’re strange. I’m stranger. Together, we can both be strange,” the cat boy chirps back lightheartedly. “The name’s Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker. But you can just call me Che’nya.”

Something in his mind had clicked then. It’s hard to explain the feeling–just that it felt like a puzzle piece put into place. He hadn’t known it then, but at that point, the hands of fate had moved. 

Whatever the case may be, Trey was grateful to have Che’nya. Because now he knows that he isn’t crazy; not when he couldn’t see his parent’s faces nor his baby sister’s or even his other friends'. Che’nya too, only shrugs his shoulders when Trey asks him about his grandfather.

“The old man? Yeah, they say I have his eyes, but I wouldn’t know.” The statement is so casually delivered that Trey can hardly believe he’s talking about his only living relative and guardian. “His face does not mirror mine in my mind.”

Staring down at you, shivering with cold and hunger, he feels something churn in him again, just like that fateful day. 

He has his orders from Riddle: bring in the imposter alive. Trey isn’t a violent sort and nor does he enjoy boasting his strength over others like a sadist. And he cannot deny the feeling of cold rage that day when Yuu shuts down, fear inundating him that he may never, ever, get an explanation for the world he was born in. Why he and Che’nya were special, why he had to witness Riddle suffer under his mother–what was it all for?

Your face. There is no blank stretched skin—he can see your wide open eyes, bloodshot and fixated on him. Your mouth too, shaped in a pained grimace, lips bruised and bloodied from previous skirmishes. Surely, surely, there must be a reason why you were here. Why you bear the same face as Yuu. You hold all the answers, if you would just cooperate.

“Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Trey tries reaching out, but you scurry back into the hedges, squinted eyes wary and untrusting. You remind him of a frightened hedgehog, prickly spines bristled and body curled in to protect yourself. “I just wanna talk.”

“Go away, please,” the imposter quietly pleads. “Just pretend you never saw me! I swear I didn’t even know how I got here…”

Trey swallows hard. 

“Just come quietly. Please.” He is the one begging now. “It’ll be easier for all of us.”

“For who?” The imposter barks a sharp laugh. Trey doesn't miss the way they wince in pain from their wounds. “For me? Or for you?”

He doesn’t have an answer. The sound of running footsteps has him turning, and when he looks back, you’re already gone. The only traces that you were there at all were faint splotches of red blood and crushed grass.

Trey wonders if this, too, was meant to be fate.

—

Trey’s been lovingly dubbed as someone reliable. Some consider him to be an older brother figure due to his nagging and supportive care. It's ingrained in him at this point from the years he’s spent playing babysitter. Trey knows the students around him are not his younger siblings who need constant watching (although their actions say otherwise).

But he worries.

Just a bit. Trey knows better than anyone that you can take care of yourself just fine. He's seen how you carry yourself within those hedges. 

It's just that, he doesn't know if you're okay right now. How could he know? You've been silent even in the face of Riddle's unceasing letters. So of course he's just a bit unsure if you're actually okay, or if you don't trust them enough to say so.

Trey finds himself more frustrated with the ban they're under. Not because of the inability to see you, although that is part of it. No, it's because Riddle has managed to skirt around that rule to desperately grab onto you, and that was just enough to wear you down. 

He thinks if he was bold enough, he could've tried.

As if it wasn't enough, even Ace and Deuce find their own way to get to you, snatching up the chance to deliver the monthly tea party invitation. It takes everything in Trey to clench his teeth and let go—even when Cater ruins his plans. He can't get mad here because it won't get him any closer to you. He has to be the bigger person.

If there is one thing Trey knows about Cater, it's that he absolutely hates getting sweaty or dirty. If Cater wasn’t trying to get out of running those P.E laps, he would absolutely be shirking any extra work assigned. So he's more than suspicious when Cater bounces up to him with a grin saying he could help cover Trey's science club duty of watering plants. 

Trey likes to think he can tell when Cater’s lying. His close friend's happy go lucky demeanor often throws off others, but he’s been with him long enough to pick out his subtle tells. His eyebrow twitches when he’s particularly anxious and the corner of his mouth tends to perk up if he’s feeling particularly daring or desperate. Trey figures this must be something that even he can’t trust Trey with, if he’s going out of his way to take on extra work.

So Trey considers this repayment for letting him take his violets. He watches as Cater dashes off in labwear, waiting for a minute, before following after him. His duty was in the tropical zone of the botanical garden, so he has no worries even if he does lose him. 

He nearly does a double take when he sees you walking in the courtyard hallways by yourself. And before Trey could rethink his actions, he follows behind you, eyes not leaving your form for a minute. 

You look like you haven't slept well. There's dark circles under your eyes. He hopes you're brushing your teeth. There’s no signs of bandages or wounds that he remembers you in, which he supposes is one relief. Even if he so desperately wishes to cook you a proper meal—you look like you could fall over at any minute.

The realization your path is leading to the botanical garden comes just as Trey catches sight of the glass dome. He wants to rush in after you, but he stops himself just as the door swings close behind your form.

Cater is in there. It all makes sense now. Trey has to give it to him—Cater really does know every little happening in the school. But Trey knows him well too—and if he had to guess, even if Cater manages to talk to you, it won’t end pretty. His inability to be genuine will definitely only set you on edge and less likely to reciprocate. 

The waiting game he plays is nothing compared to the silence he had to endure before. Trey doesn’t have to look to know that you’re the one slamming open the doors to the botanical gardens, labwear dirtied and face twisted in a frustrated anger. He watches as you enter Professor Crewel’s office again and after some time, pop back out in completely different clothes. 

His chest tightens in longing as he continues to follow after (more from an instinctual drive now, rather than deliberate), trying to keep you in sight within the stone pillars. He wants to call out after you so badly and ask you what’s the matter, if you need help with anything. If there was anything he could do to make you forgive him for watching you bleed out on dewy grass. The sun is about to set, warm golden rays flickering between pillars and casting long shadows. Trey’s so enamored with following after you that he flinches back when the sun directly shines into his eyes, blinding him momentarily. 

He barely manages to get a hold of himself. By the time his eyes blink away the blurry blots, he realizes you’re looking back at him. His breath stops. Your eyes are wide and frightened as they are that day, and his heart drops to his stomach. Both of you don’t move, merely staring at each other. 

You finally break the connection, turning around and quickly walking away. Trey gasps, remembering to breathe, lungs screaming for air. 

What was that?

x. Entombment

It's a nice sunny afternoon in the Heartslabyul domain. There weren't any track club activities nor dreaded remedial lessons. If anything, this free time would have been perfect for a nap. He hadn’t been up to any large shenanigans like this since the whole fiasco of [First] and Yuu. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” 

Ace scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You got a better one, loosey Deucy? If we don’t do this now, then all of us are stuck until Housewarden grows a pair of balls.” 

Deuce Spade bites his lips. “I just think there might be a better way around this.”

“Yeah? And the sky is blue. Keep going, we don't have much time." Ace cranes his neck to the side of the bush, eyes warily looking out to make sure the coast is clear. 

Deuce grumbles but continues plucking, some roses already tucked within his arms. They chose a bush the furthest away from the dorm, in a hidden corner where no arched windows could overlook them. It was necessary, because today was Wednesday, and the Housewarden would have their heads for plucking his beloved roses out of all the flora.

His fingers are bleeding already, finger pads torn from repetitive tugging on the thorns and stems. They couldn’t afford taking any of the gardening tools, lest they be questioned for what they were doing with them. Still, even he had his limits.  

“Why is it that you aren’t helping at all?” Deuce snipes at Ace, who scowls back. 

“You want to be caught by someone, genius?” Ace replies snarkily. “Someone has to keep look out.”

“Doesn’t explain why I have to do all the work.” 

Ace rolls his eyes, deigning not to bother engaging in another futile argument that would lead to nowhere. Deuce is about to cut off a particularly stubborn rose when Ace pipes up again.

“...Did they ever respond to your texts?” Deuce only deflates in response. Ace’s mouth slants crookedly in an annoyed grimace. The two of them know full well what the answer to that was.

“Damn that cat…” Ace mutters bitterly under his breath. Deuce doesn’t say anything. He too, is finding it hard to not feel petty towards Grim right now. Weren’t they friends? He could’ve afforded to help them out somehow. But it’s no use. Their texts went unanswered. Headmaster had banned them from stepping foot onto Ramshackle grounds. It’s like you had closed everything off from them.

It’s why he doesn’t protest this plan, as reckless as it is. He’s not any better than Ace—he needs to see you. He and Ace were your closest friends, your first friends! He loved you. That had to mean something. If it didn’t, then…

“I think this is enough.” Deuce adjusts the messy bouquet in his hands, attempting to hold them without crushing the delicate petals. Ace looks over and nods in approval. He takes out crimson ribbons and a silk handkerchief and begins tying it around the stems in a very artful way that has Deuce’s eyebrows raising.

“Where did you get that?” Ace smirks in response at the interrogative question.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ace snatches the bouquet from his hands and slips in an envelope with the housewarden’s seal. Deuce silences the questions on the tip of his tongue. For whatever Ace has planned, he’s rather not know anything more troublesome than necesscary. 

What he failed to account for was getting caught. Housewarden Riddle was beyond furious for what they did. It was only by Trey and Cater's gentle reminders that what they did was for all of them, that he only calmed down.

Deuce supposes three days with the collar is better than a week. Even if it is a heavy thing that weighs on his very soul.

He only hopes that you don't notice the thorns they forgot to trim.

—

It’s a given that although Trey is the right hand of Heartslabyul, Cater is considered the left hand of Housewarden Riddle. It’s been that way since Deuce himself enrolled in NRC, and possibly even further back. He hadn’t understood it quite then, but after some time, he realized something that he should’ve realized a long time ago. 

To never get on Cater’s bad side.

There are events where the five of them gather outside of Yuu’s influence. Administrative meetings, monthly tea parties, and the occasional casual hang out. When you’re aware of how much of your life is affected from being not like the others, it’s common to side with those who are like you. 

Cater had called the meeting this time. It was a bit out of the blue, at least for him and Ace. It’s only when they’re all gathered around the playing table in the lounge, not another soul in sight, when Deuce realizes Cater has that gleam in his eye. One that screams that he got a viral lead on a hot topic. His upperclassman must have been investigating.

"Remember how mirrors are considered to be portals?"

Deuce's neck prickles.

"Your point, Cater?" Their housewarden is impatient, not aware of what the question poses. His arms are crossed with his eyebrows furrowed in a frustrated glare. Deuce realizes that he must have been the one to send out Cater.

"There's a mirror in the prefect's bedroom." Deuce blurts out, and Riddle’s steely eyes snap over in surprise. Cater nods in affirmation.

"Yeah. I only managed a glimpse, but Yuu covered their mirror." Cater says. 

“Hold on, you went into the prefect’s bedroom? Scratch that, to Ramshackle?” Ace asks. “Why are we just getting this now?”

“Because I just came back Acey,” Cater flicks his forehead, causing Ace to exclaim in pain. Trey smiles faintly at the action. “Also Riddle told me to keep it confidential—you two would have ran straight out if we had told you.” 

Deuce sheepishly rubs his neck at Cater’s pointed sentence. Riddle rubs his chin in thoughtfulness, eyebrows still furrowed. 

“But there isn’t anything magical about that mirror, is there?” Riddle asks, skepticism coating his tone. “The puppet could have simply covered that mirror out of an odd preference.”

“Acey, didn’t you mention that Yuu always mentioned seeing things in that mirror?” Cater responds, deflecting the question upon his underclassmen. Ace straightens as he and Deuce both exchange a glance.

“Yeah…something about a mouse in their mirror,” Ace answers slowly, face scrunched in an effort to recall memories. “I always thought it was just crazy dreams but…”

“Yuu was always insisting about it,” Deuce chimes in. “Said the mouse speaks to them and everything—that there was another world it was in.”

Trey and Cater share a furtive glance together before looking at Riddle. Their housewarden seems to be taking in the new information, closing his eyes in thought. For a while, no one dares to speak. 

“What do you think, Riddle?” Trey finally breaks the heavy silence, and Deuce breathlessly releases a sigh. Leave it to Trey to speak for all of them.

“If the mirror in the bedroom is magical, then that changes things.” Riddle pronounces with conviction. “If that mirror potentially holds a dimension, then that would be the perfect place to trap someone.”

“Cater.” The orange head straightens to attention at the stern command. “Find a way to get the puppet out of the dorm for a while. We’ll need to look into this ourselves.”

Cater smirks and a chill runs down Deuce’s spine. While Cater still has an easy going look, his jade green eyes have darkened with a sadistic gleam. 

“Roger that, housewarden!” His upperclassman chirps, already taking out his phone. 

Riddle is already barking orders that each of them are to take up within this mission of theirs. But Deuce nearly misses his task, eyes stuck on Cater’s face as he scrolls his phone.

He catches a glimpse of a photo before it’s quickly clicked away. Deuce snaps back to Riddle just in time for Cater to shoot him a wary glare, checking to make sure no one else was looking. 

Deuce is very glad he is working together with Cater.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #my works #damn this is the most ive ever written.....insane

[theemporium]

[2.2k] old memories are dug up when a familiar face shows up at a party with a keen interest on you. 

based off the prompt: “i’m yours” “say it again”

.

Steve knew that his friendship with Tommy H had no hopes of redemption when they parted ways, and truthfully he was okay with that. 

In his honest opinion, it took him far too long to realise what a shitty friend Tommy truly was, along with the rest of the stranglers in the group. They didn’t care about Steve, not really. He was just a figurehead, and they would’ve followed whoever wore the crown. 

And though broken friendships did sting a little, he had found him a group of people that truly cared for him. He found a family and he wouldn’t give that up for the world. 

Sure, things were a little different after the drop of King Steve but it wasn’t a feeling he mourned for very long. And for people like Tommy H and Carol, who had only clung onto him for that title, he couldn’t say any tears were shed after he parted ways with them at the end of senior year and hoped to never really see them again. 

Of course, that meant the universe had to reunite them in the most twisted way possible. 

You were young and fresh out of high school yourself when you stumbled into small town Hawkins, Indiana with no real purpose in your life and no real plans either. You were young and eager and not really ready to be tied down to a single place when the world was an oyster of opportunity and experiences. 

You had visited a handful of odd towns and cities alike so far since you left home, but none of them were quite like Hawkins. Something about the town charmed you, and you found yourself situated in Indiana town for longer than you expected and a part of that maybe had to do with the pretty boy with gorgeous hair that always seemed to blush at your compliments and flirt back when you stopped by the ice cream parlour in the mall after work. 

It was a summer full of lingering touches, stolen glances and puppy love that only seemed to exist between two teens. 

Things took a bit of a turn when the summer twisted into Russian bunkers, escape plans and the smell of burning flesh forever burned into your senses as you watched the mall you were so beloved off burn down. 

By that point, you would’ve been up and out of the town before the sun rose and the firemen were able to put the fire out. 

But something kept you in Hawkins—correction; Steve Harrington kept you in Hawkins. 

Months of realising that maybe scouting the globe wasn’t what you were looking for, maybe it was a feeling or a knowing thought: or maybe that epiphany was Steve with his pretty eyes and kind words and hair that just made you swoon. 

It led you straight into over eight months later, music and voices buzzing around the abandoned community pool. It was early spring, the temperature was warm enough to shed the winter coats and scarfs, and the adolescents of Hawkins deemed it something to celebrate. 

The pool was empty, the space now filled with rambunctious teens and kegs and chants that echoed off the tile walls. There were speakers set up on the lifeguard post, empty solo cups already scattered around the ground and the thrill in the air that they could be caught at any moment. 

Steve was hesitant to show up, knowing just how he was perceived at these events and just how far he had come since then. But you pouted your lips, flashed him puppy dog eyes and Steve couldn’t really say no to you. 

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” you said to him as you stood between his legs, your fingers dancing along the collar of his shirt. “As much as I love Dustin, we need to be around some people our age.” 

Steve had snorted but he didn’t disagree, muttering his answer under his breath as you pressed a sweet kiss on his cheek and quickly headed towards the beeping microwave that contained the popcorn you put in minutes ago. 

Standing amongst the dancing, drunk teens with cheap beer that went down far easier than he remembered, Steve thought you were right. You both needed this, a sense of normalcy and adolescent upbringing that was torn away from you between an array of different reasons. 

You deserved a night to just pretend everything was okay. 

Steve hadn’t even minded as people greeted and spoke, the small chat a bit awkward and repetitive but it was bearable. You had spent most of the night tucked under his arm, grinning against the rim of your cup as Steve whispered stories and random facts about the people he spent four years in high school with, and some of them years before that too. 

“I’ll be right back,” you whispered to him as you waved your empty cup. 

Steve didn’t say anything, simply nodding his head and giving your shoulders a soft squeeze before you made your way to the other side of the pool, climbing down the ladder to get to the kegs in the empty pool. 

His eyes dazed over a little as he listened to some kid a year or two younger than him ramble away—about what Steve wasn’t too sure—but the kid was passionate and he didn’t have the heart to walk away. So he stood there, nodding his head and letting out hums of acknowledgement as he sipped on his drink and let his eyes wander around the party every so often. 

It hit the five minute mark when Steve realised that you hadn’t returned with a drink, his eyebrows furrowed together as he scanned the area trying to spot you. 

It took less than ten seconds before he noticed you, standing beside the kegs in the empty pool, cup in hand and a smile on your face as you chatted away to someone. He couldn’t see the person’s face but Steve didn’t need to. 

He spent just under four years with the jerk. Steve didn’t need to see his face to know it was Tommy H. 

Steve muttered half-hearted apologies to the boy in front of him before he began shoving through the throng of drunk teens, his eyes fixed on you and his old friend. 

Your eyes caught his over Tommy’s shoulder and something in his chest stirred at the way your smile widened. 

“Steve,” you greeted with a smile as the boy quickly took up the space next to you, uncaring of the knowing look you flashed him as his arm around your shoulder pulled you closer. “I bumped into your friend.” 

Tommy only grinned at Steve, all feline and bad omens. “So many stories to share, huh?” 

“Tommy,” Steve eventually spoke, his voice blank and unamused. “Didn’t realise you were in town.” 

“Spring break,” he said with a casual shrug. “Thought I’d come home from college, you know?” 

Steve didn’t miss the jab. The small brag that whilst he was stuck in the same town lines, Tommy was off to some hotshot college he had no doubt his father paid for. 

“Mhm,” Steve hummed but didn’t say much else. 

“Quite the girl you’ve got there,” Tommy commented as his eyes focused back on you, the smile on his face was one Steve instantly recognised—charming and suave and the same one he used to make girls like Carol giggle and blush. “Very different to Nancy Wheeler.” 

Steve’s jaw clenched. 

“Is that how you small town folk measure people’s personalities?” you piped up, and to anyone else the question would seem genuine and innocent, but the glimmer of mischief in your eyes said otherwise. 

Tommy grinned. “She’s feisty.” 

“What do you want, Tommy?” Steve gritted out between clenched teeth. 

“Don’t be like that, Steve,” The freckled boy said in such a patronising tone that it was a surprise the cheap beer in Steve’s cup wasn’t splashed in his face at this point. “We used to be best buds. I just wanted to get to know your girl, make sure she’s taking care of my old friend.”

There were a million different thoughts racing through Steve’s head at that moment. The first being the audacity of the boy to talk about you like a caregiver, like you were simply partaking in a job and you weren’t a human with emotions in a relationship. The second was that Tommy H knew Steve better than he liked to admit, and he also knew what riled the boy up. And the third being that he knew there was much more to his reasoning than he was giving, the conversation with you purposeful and chosen to be done when Steve wasn’t present. 

And along with his a million thoughts were a million different responses Steve had on the tip of his tongue to deal with Tommy, feeling young and bitter and mean like he was back in his King Steve glory days. He felt a little disgusted at himself for the way his stomach flipped in anticipation for Tommy to be on the receiving end of the snarky comments this time around. 

But before Steve even got a chance to lay down his blow and hit Tommy where it hurt, you had already opened your mouth. 

“Oh yeah, no, of course,” you said as you nodded your head in encouragement, face remaining serious as you tucked yourself further into Steve’s side. “I mean, Steve has told me so much about his best friend from high school, it’s only right that I get the chance to meet him too.” 

A look of surprise flashed in Tommy’s eyes before it was replaced with the usual nonchalance. “See, Steve, your girl gets it.”

“Yeah, I mean it’s great to finally put a face to the boy Steve told me cried when he got rejected by three different girls and puked in his mother’s rose bush,” you stated so casually that it took Steve a few moments before he even processed what you said. 

Tommy let out a nervous laugh. “I—” 

“And he also told me about that time you pissed yourself during eighth grade basketball tryouts because you were so nervous,” you continued with a bright smile on your face as the boy in front of you started to pale. 

“I have no idea—” 

“Oh god, how did I almost forget?” you laughed as you playfully slapped your forehead. “You’re the Tommy! The one that spent your whole high school career so far up my boyfriend’s ass because you wanted to be him.” 

Steve could barely string a sentence together, something between a scoff and a laugh leaving his lips as he looked between you and his old friend with something quite like pride blooming in his chest.

“Whatever,” Tommy grumbled under his breath and didn’t say anything else as he quickly hurried to disappear into sea of partygoers. 

Steve watched him go, eyes glaring at the back of his head before he turned his head to look down at you, a totally innocent expression on your face. 

“Do you think he likes me?” you questioned, unable to bite back the grin that grew on your face as Steve let out an ungraceful snort. 

“You…” Steve trailed off, shaking his head and biting down on his lower lip to stop the ramble of words that wanted to escape. “You’re amazing.” 

You shrugged, cheeks burning a little but that didn’t shake your confidence. “I know.” 

Steve’s grin only widened. 

“You know,” you murmured as your arms wrapped loosely around his waist with a shit-eating grin on your face. “You get this adorable pout on your face when you’re jealous.” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t—”

You shot him a look.

“Okay, I was a little jealous,” he admitted with a heavy sigh, his hands locking behind your back and pulling your body closer to his. “I just…don’t like seeing you with him.” 

“I knew what he was doing the second he walked up to me,” you told him, the moment oddly sweet and intimate as you stood three feet away from what you were sure was someone’s lunch that came back up after one too many drinks. “He thought he was so smart, it was cute.” 

Steve’s nose scrunched in disgust. “Cute?” 

“Calm down, big boy,” you laughed as you watched his face remain unamused by your word choice. “I only have eyes for you.” 

Steve hummed. “Yeah, and then you go call other guys cute so…” 

“I’m yours,” you told him with a shake of your head, amused but not surprised at your boyfriend’s antics. “You know that very well.”

Steve’s eyes softened. “What was that?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m yours.”

A cheeky grin grew on his face. “Say it again.”

“I’m yours, Steve Harrington,” you said as leaned in close enough your nose brushed against his. “Even despite how much you annoy me.” 

“You love me anyways,” he murmured. 

You sighed. “I do.” 

But despite what you said and despite the way you may have muttered a few light-hearted complaints under your breath, you couldn’t deny you loved the way Steve grinned at you as he wrapped an arm around you, happily calling you his girl for the rest of the night as you mingled amongst the group. 

And you can’t deny the jealousy was worth the treat the were in for the second you and Steve were alone.

.

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things one shot #stranger things fic

[percheduphere]

How do you think Mobius will live his life in the timeline? Many theorize that something happens to Don and Mobius takes his identity so his sons live with a father. I prefer that Mobius reflects on his old life, realizes he can’t live it, and creates his own life.

Oh, boy, Anon. I have a lot of fanfic ideas for this, but let's get into the meta-analysis side of this before we get into the rabbit hole that is my washer-dryer machine of an imagination.

Mobius is not doing well. He is going through the stages of grief. I've written an extensive meta here regarding the darker aspects of his character and how he's at risk by the end of the series. I also wrote a brief meta here regarding how his grief might manifest.

With this in mind, I actively HATE the idea of Mobius spiraling to the point he becomes "corrupted". I don't what Michael Waldron did to Wanda. I guess you could make the argument that it would be interesting to see a man emotionally unravel in such a way, but I hold Mobius's unshakable kindness dear in my heart. I don't ever want him to lose it because it is essentially his superpower.

[Sidebar: comics canon House of M notwithstanding; Marvel and DC comics canon are consistently horrible in their characterization of exceptionally powerful women: Wanda Maximoff Jean Grey/Phoenix; Carol Danvers/then Ms. Marvel; Rogue; on and on; I'll throw Sylvie in here, too, because why not, it's true.]

I see Mobius mourning Loki for two years. Two years because, statistically, that is how long it takes for most people who've lost an intimate loved one to get out of clinical depression. During this period, I see him losing weight, wandering aimlessly between timelines, trying and failing to copy Don's life by taking a job that involves jet skis or aquatics more generally. B-15 would make a point to check-in on him and know he's not doing well, but Mobius, because he does not want anyone to worry about him, because he is used to being the person who keeps people together, insists he's fine.

MY FANFIC IDEA

I see Mobius eventually recognizing he needs a therapist, which he will find ironic and deeply troubling, but he's not about to give up on trying to live for Loki's sake.

And in his conversations with his therapist and B-15, Mobius will come to realize that he can still use his key strengths outside of the TVA: analyzing people, deconstructing what makes them tick, using that knowledge to help the other person, similar to a therapist but more active in support. Mobius is very well-suited to become a social worker of troubled and at-risk youth. I think he should pursue this and ...

Mobius will choose a branched timeline in the late 90s/early 2000s. There, he will meet a war-orphaned, thirteen year-old Wanda Maximoff, who is friendless and struggling to understand the nature of her powers (magic). Mobius is drawn to her right away. It takes time, but he eventually gains Wanda's trust.

Red. Red is Wanda's color. It's in her hair, her cheeks, her magic. Now that red reaches Wanda's eyes, filled with tears her anger stoppers. "You saw what I can do. What I did. The other kids call me a 'witch' 'cause that's what I am. A witch. A monster."

Mobius sits next to the young girl on the stoop. The sun winks at them through the green tree boughs, and he wonders, for a moment, what Loki might think of him now, finding solace in a child who needs solace.

"That's not true. You're not a monster, but I tell you what: witches are pretty cool." Mobius grins, knocking his knee against hers. The fabric of his slacks shakes, still too loose. "Y'know, my best friend has magic just like yours, except it's green instead of red."

Wanda peers at him, hopeful and dubious. "Really?"

"Yup. He had a tough time, too, being different." He leans closer to her, sharing a secret. "But things got better. You should've seen him. He was--is-- magnificent. You're magnificent."

Her lips purse into an embarrassed smile. She drops her head, thoughtful, and tucks her hands beneath the fold of her knees. "Where is he now? Do you still see him?"

The question is innocent, as all things are with a soul of thirteen. She doesn't mean to hurt him. Mobius knows this. So he takes the thorn of her words and presses it against his ribcage. His throat works. The ache comes and goes but never fully abates.

"Well," Mobius sighs. "He had to move on. Life is like that sometimes. People come and go. Things happen and ... there's not much you can do except hope they're okay. That they're happy and safe."

He can't look up. Not at the tree or the sun. He worries if he does, he'll start to cry, and that won't do when this girl who reminds him so much of his wily god has finally cracked a smile.

"C'mon," he says, rising to his feet. "Let's get you something to eat."

"McDonald's?" Wanda brightens.

Another thorn. He takes that one too and thinks of pretty roses.

"Whatever you want, kiddo."

#anon asks #asks #loki #mobius #lokius #loki series #loki season 2 #loki headcanons #my headcanons #my fanfic ideas #loki meta #my meta #lokius fanfic #wanda maximoff #scarlett witch #my writing

[twdeadfanfic]

Outsider Pt.12

Daryl Dixon x female reader

Summary: Daryl’s been out of Alexandria for two years, mourning the loss of Rick, looking for him, unable to go back to his family, when his dog finds a woman in one of his traps at the outside of his camp, a woman badly hurt, seeming about to pass out, looking more ghost than person…

…she’s been running away from a group that was more than bad news, having survived on her own for years, wary and afraid of groups after being mistreated by people, until she’s found by a stranger with blue eyes and a cute dog, a stranger that for once, might be a good person, someone willing to help, someone she can trust…

This has both Daryl’s POV, and Reader’s POV in third person.

The last time I updated this was one year and two months ago...if any of you even remember this fic, here’s an update...

***

It was spring and you were deep in the woods with Daryl and Dog, helping Daryl on another of his trips searching for his brother. 

You were going back to camp now, while also hunting to bring back some food, and so you had a rabbit hanging from your belt and Daryl a few squirrels. 

You both were speaking, but you stopped when you thought you heard something coming from among some trees.

“Did you hear that too?” You asked Daryl when you saw he was looking around too, crossbow ready.

At that moment, three men walked out of the group of trees, pointing their guns at you. You had met enough bad people to know those ones were bad news and dangerous, you had no doubt.

“I wouldn’t be shooting that,” one of them said when he saw Daryl about to shoot his crossbow while you got an arrow ready on your bow. “Even if you kill one of us, the others will shoot you dead before you can get another arrow on that thing.”

You knew he was right and so seemed to do Daryl, since he didn’t shoot the arrow, but he didn’t lower the crossbow. You wanted to take him and Dog and run away from there, but even if you weren’t sure what the men wanted, you thought they’d shoot you if you just run.

“Well, look at that…” One of the men said. “If it isn’t our old boss, Daryl Dixon.”

“Yes…yes, that’s right, it’s him!” Another said, making you wonder who those men who knew Daryl and talked about him like that were.

Daryl was focusing all his self-restraint on not pressing the trigger and putting an arrow into the skull of one of those saviors, afraid that, even if you got to shoot another one too, the other would shoot you before either of you had time to reload.

He hadn’t imagined he’d stumble with saviors there in the woods, he hadn’t seen any of them since the fall of the Sanctuary, when they were left on their own after Rick’s death…some saviors were accepted in the settlements, not many, while most decided to go on their own, or were kicked out, and Daryl had no wish to see any of them.

Carol had told him, though, that sometimes some people from the Kingdom had bumped into small groups of saviors who had decided to stay together to survive. They were as annoying as ever, dangerous, trying to mug people who went on runs, but in general, Carol had said they didn’t have many supplies or weapons.

It seems those three had gotten his hands on some and Daryl didn’t know what to do.

Dog didn’t seem to like them either, and he was jumping in front of Daryl and you, teeth bare as he growled, seeming ready to attack the saviors, and so one of the men aimed his gun at him.

“No!” You and Daryl shout at the same time, afraid that the savior was going to shoot Dog, and so you both lowered your weapons to grab Dog’s collar and pull him back.

Daryl stepped in front of you and Dog before you could stop him, giving you a look to try and ask you to handle Dog so he wouldn’t get hurt, while he aimed his crossbow again, he didn’t know why, he knew you both were outnumbered.

The saviors seemed amused, looking at him with mocking smiles, with just enraged Daryl more, but he knew he couldn’t lose his temper, couldn’t let his hate for them drive him, make him impulsive, or you and Dog would pay for it and get hurt and probably killed.

“Well…look at that…” 

One of those saviors looked from Daryl to you and Dog and back at him, before sharing a look with the other two, that amused, mocking smile on his face, and Daryl just wanted to punch him.

“Looks like our ex-boss, didn’t lose time…you got yourself a woman, uh?” 

The savior said, looking at you, and you wanted to get ready an arrow again but were afraid of letting go of Dog and him trying to attack the saviors and getting shot, while Daryl just wanted to bash his crossbow on the savior’s head.

“You weren’t with the boss before, were you?” The savior asked. “Nah…he was always sulking somewhere alone…hell, maybe if you had been with him, he wouldn’t have been so insufferable, maybe he only needed to get laid…but nah, he still got that bitter, asshole face!” The savior chuckled and you wanted to punch him, while Daryl wasn’t very sure of how long was he going to last without losing his shit.

The savior just kept going, ignoring yours and Daryl’s murderous looks, and seeming truly entertained.

“And he also got a dog! A damn Dog, can you believe that?” He chuckled, looking at the other saviors with that mocking smile before looking at Daryl again. “You got yourself a nice family, uh, boss, a woman and a dog, didn’t take you for the kind of guy who wants that…don’t tell me you also have a little brat running around the woods!” 

He chuckled again, but he scanned the woods, and you couldn’t be more glad that no, Daryl and you didn’t have a kid, your conversation with Carol going back to your head…you’d been right, this world was too dangerous.

“What the fuck ya want?!” Daryl snapped.

“Is that way of greeting old friends?” The savior kept mocking. “We’re just saying hi!”

“Then we’re sayin’ goodbye,” Daryl snapped and the savior just chuckled.

“Where’re you hole up now? The Kingdom? Alexandria?” The savior asked, studying Daryl and you. “Or you got a camp here? Some people said you got fuck in the head, that they saw you just leave to the woods… looking for Rick? That can’t be right…” The savior squinted at Daryl and then he chuckled again. “Didn’t you see him blow up? You can’t be that dumb!”

Daryl was shaking in rage and you were afraid that he was about to shoot that man. Not that he didn’t deserve it, you wanted to cut his throat, but if Daryl attacked him, the other two men would kill him. You didn’t want those men to know about your camp either, make you take them there, and so you spoke.

“We were out on patrol and Michonne also asked us to bring back some meat,” you said. You weren’t totally sure, but you thought you were close to Alexandria, closer than the Kingdom or Hilltop at the very least, and you hoped that close enough so it’d seem like a plausible idea.

“I see…so, what if we all go to Alexandria’s doors and trade with Michonne…she gives us what we want, we won’t shoot you both in front of her doorstep.”

Shit…you hadn’t thought he might want that and now you regretted bringing up Alexandria, and you hoped that Daryl wasn’t angry. 

He wasn’t, he knew you had just tried to help, and he too was trying to think of a way to get you and Dog out of this unharmed, but he couldn’t come up with anything.

“Michonne won’t trade,” he said. “She knows what she gotta do to keep our people safe, no matter what.” He wasn’t very sure but he wanted those assholes to believe it.

“Yes.” You nodded. “And the lookouts will kill you on sight.”

The men looked at each other and Daryl considered shooting, but they were still aiming their guns…part of Daryl wondered if they had bullets, those had been scarce already years ago, and he had the suspicion they didn’t, but he didn’t dare to risk finding out the wrong way if he was right or not.

It seemed the saviors didn’t want to risk a fight with Alexandria either.

“Okay…we won’t be visiting Michonne today,” the one who seemed the leader said. “But, she won’t be having meat either…give us that.” He gestured towards the squirrels that Daryl carried in his belt but Daryl didn’t move, just growled at him. “Oh, come on now, boss, be nice, uh?” The savior said while aiming his gun at you. 

Another savior kept aiming at Daryl, but the third aimed at Dog, and so Daryl growled again, shaking in rage, and even though he felt like an idiot, weak and humiliated, he took the squirrels and threw them to the saviors’ feet.

If it had been before meeting you, if he’d been alone, he knew he would have tried to kill the savior, no matter he might end dead too, but he didn’t  want to endanger you and Dog.

“Very nice…” The savior gave him a mocking smile before turning to look at you. “Now you, pass us that nice rabbit, darling.”

You hated how powerless and weak you felt, but as Daryl, you threw the rabbit to the savior’s feet. He looked at you, studying you, and you didn’t like it. It seemed Dog didn’t like it either, as he began to growl when the savior took a step towards you.

“You better control that beast if you’re fond of it,” the savior warned, before he took another step towards you, reaching out as if to take the bag that hung from your shoulder, still acting so smug, as if he wasn’t afraid of Daryl and you in the slightest…and why would he, he’d unarmed you both and held you at gunpoint.

“Get away from her!” Daryl snapped and the savior smirked, seeming pleased, and you had to wonder if he was getting closer and taking your bag instead of having you hand it to him just to get a reaction out of Daryl.

It seemed Dog had lost his patience too, and when he saw the savior trying to reach for you, he tugged at his collar so much that managed to break free, jumping on the savior, who fell backward with a startled cry, Dog on top of him, growling and biting, you had never seen him like that, not even with walkers.

You were already throwing yourself at them, trying to stop the savior from shooting Dog. You heard a gunshot and felt a biting pain on your arm, but you didn’t care for it, too focused on helping Dog.

You didn’t even realize that the only reason why a bullet had only grazed you instead of fatally wounded you was because Daryl had thrown himself at the savior the second he tried to shoot at you.

He was not struggling with him, and he knew it was more luck than ability when he managed to turn him around so when the third savior shot him, the bullet struck his friend and not him.

Daryl wasn’t so lucky the next time, the wounded savior managed to struggle out of his grasp just enough to fall onto the ground, bleeding from the bullet wound on his gut, and so when the other savior shot again, Daryl felt the burn and pain of the bullet on his chest, near his shoulder.

He grunted, vision turning blurry as tears filled his eyes at the pain, and he barely managed not to fall onto his knees. He was sure the next bullet would kill him, but then the savior was wheezing and falling down, an arrow embedded in his back.

Daryl saw that you had recovered your bow, somehow looking murderous and scared at the same time. It seemed that Dog had mauled the savior that had been struggling with you enough for him not to be a threat, and you had knocked the gun out of his hand.

He was lying on the ground, bloodied, Daryl didn’t know if he was dead or not, and he couldn’t check or ask before a wave of dizziness made him fall onto his knees, weakness hitting him as pain seemed to radiate from his shoulder.

“Daryl!” You cried out, running to him, kneeling down next to him, lifting his head to look at his clammy face, before trying to cheek his shoulder.

You didn’t think you had ever felt so scared, you could feel anxiety trying to grip you, almost making you feel light-headed, but you fought against it with all you had, Daryl needed you, and that was all that mattered then.

“Kill the saviors,” Daryl muttered. “Make sure they ain’t comin’ back.”

“That can wait,” you said, cheeking his shoulder, trying to be gentle when your touch made Daryl grunt, and he leaned against you as he could barely support himself, even on his knees. “You’re bleeding a lot”

It was being hard not to panic, you were checking the bullet wound but you didn’t know what to do, you had never dealt with an injury like that, and seeing Daryl weakening in front you, face pale and covered in sweat, his wound bleeding profusely, was terrifying.

“Daryl…Daryl, I can’t fix this with some herb balm,” you said, panic in your voice. “I don’t even think I can sew it and…it’s bleeding too much…” 

Maybe you shouldn’t be saying all that to Daryl, you should be trying to help, to reassure him…but Daryl was no idiot…

“Cauterize,”Daryl grunted.

“What?!” You shook your head, looking at him wide-eyed.

“Heat the knife, burn the wound, stop the bleedin’,” Daryl tried to weakly explain, but you kept shaking your head.

“No…no, we can’t do that…” You were trying to stay calm for Daryl’s shake, you knew you had to in order to be useful, but it was not easy. “It’s dangerous, it can get infected easily, you can go into shock, we could do more harm than good.”

“Merle did it, he was fine,” Daryl said, his eyes closing tight before he opened them again as if he was trying to not pass out. “I’ll do it…” He tried to reach for his knife but you stopped his hands easily.

“Daryl, no… even if the wound stops bleeding, I think the bullet is still inside.” You tried to check his shoulder, stopping when Daryl whimpered. “It’ll infect badly if we cauterize it...and you may have internal bleeding anyway…”

“Just take out the bullet and cauterize,” Daryl said, leaning more and more against you, weakening in front of your eyes.

“Daryl…I can’t…I’m sorry…” You were sure you’d do more harm than good, and tears filled your eyes as you despaired but you tried to think...you had an idea, even if it made you anxious, even if you weren’t sure it’d work… “We have to do something else…”

You reached inside Daryl’s bag, taking out his map. You took a deep breath, trying to control the panic in your heart and the grip of anxiety in your gut at your idea.

“We’re here, right?” You asked, and Daryl made an effort to open his eyes, nodding but reaching to reposition your fingers some centimeters, leaving some blood on the map. “Okay…okay, and Alexandria’s there. “ 

It was at walking distance, not far at all, though in Daryl’s condition, you knew it’d feel eternal.

“Love…I know you’re in pain and weak, but do you think you can make the walk? I’ll help you. Take you to Siddiq, okay?” You knew that was the name of his friend who was a doctor in Alexandria.

Daryl shook his head, eyes closed tight, and your heart sank.  “Nah…ya don’t…ya don’t have to do that…don’t have to go…” He murmured.

“Yes, yes I have to.” It scared you, your anxiety was over the roof, but you’d do anything if it meant helping Daryl. “I want to, and I’m going to, okay? So, I want you to try to get there, I know you’re in pain, but you have to try, for me and Dog, yeah?”

Dog whined, licking Daryl’s hand again.

You cupped Daryl’s head, gently lifting it so he could look at you. He opened his eyes, looking half unconscious and in so much pain that more tears filled your eyes, but he nodded, weakly leaning his forehead on yours.

“Okay…okay, let’s go…”

You couldn’t just drag Daryl with you while he bleed out through his wound, though, and so even if you knew you couldn’t stop it, you looked for a way to at least slow the bleeding a bit.

Reaching into your bag, you took your makeshift first-aid kit, taking some gauze out of it, and you pressed it against Daryl’s wound to try to stop the bleeding. Daryl grunted and whimpered, his eyes filled with tears, and you hated to hurt him, it hurt you too, but you knew you had to do it.  Dog whined, rubbing his head against Daryl’s hand, while Daryl tried to touch Dog’s fur but ended up just able to rest his limp hand on his head.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry…” You murmured to Daryl, who just grunted again, his eyes were closing now, his head hung low as he wobbled, seeming about to pass out, and you tried to hold him up with your free hand. “Daryl, you can’t pass out, please, love,” you told him, desperate and beyond scared. “We have to get to Alexandria, okay?”

Daryl didn’t say anything, seeming beyond words, but he seemed to be trying not to faint.

Working as quickly as you could, you got more gauze and clean cloth to make a bandage around Daryl’s shoulder and chest, covering and protecting his wound as best as you could. The bleeding had slowed but it hadn’t stopped, the first gauzes were already bloodied as you finished wrapping more.

You knew you had to get him to Alexandria quickly, as quickly as you could, even if you had no idea of how you were going to do it.

“Okay, love…” You cupped Daryl’s face when you finished with the bandage, making him look at you, but his eyes were so unfocused that you weren’t sure he was seeing you. “We have to get to Alexandria, okay? You can do it, come on…”

You helped Daryl up as best as you could, hating every grunt and whimper of pain that he let out, and trying not to topple over under his weight, that he couldn’t help but lean on you, weak and barely conscious.

*

Alexandria wasn’t really that far, you knew that, but the walk there felt eternal anyway. 

It took you longer than it’d have in normal conditions, way longer, with you having to support pretty much all Daryl’s weight, almost dragging him at times, stopping from time to time whenever his remaining strength left him and you couldn’t support him, both of you falling to the ground, while every time you had to fear that Daryl wasn’t going to get up that time, that he was about to die and you couldn’t do anything.

You tried not to let despair and fear overcome you, tried to focus on your mission, get Daryl to Alexandria, to his friends and family, who’d help him…but he seemed weaker and weaker, all the gauzes you had used on his wound were now red with blood…

Then, when you thought Daryl couldn’t keep going and you couldn’t help him, you saw it, coming out of the woods, the walls of what you assumed to be Alexandria.

“Daryl…Daryl, look, we made it…”

Daryl was past looking, though, and he seemed he couldn’t keep going, falling down onto his knees as you too toppled over under his weight.

“Love…love, no, come on, come on, we’re already here okay?” You cupped Daryl’s face, trying to make him look at you, but his eyes were closed as his body lay limp against yours. You had tried not to panic but you couldn’t help it anymore. “Come on, please, we’re here with your family, come on, hold on a little longer, we’re already here…”

To make it worse, a glance towards Alexandria let you know that you had been spotted by the people keeping watch on top of the lookouts, and now they were aiming rifles at you, some seemed sniper rifles and if they were a good shot, they could kill you on the spot.

You got up from your knees, hating how Daryl just dropped unconscious to the ground, and raised your arms.

“I…he…I….” You stammered, you were so scared you couldn’t raise your voice enough for the people to hear you. “It’s…Daryl, you know him…help…we need help…please…” Your voice was still too low, while Dog began barking, as loud as you were quiet. “Help, please,” you said a bit louder now, as if Dog had encouraged you.

You didn’t know if the lookouts could see and recognize Daryl or not, or maybe Dog, but they seemed to be talking with each other, and you heard voices as they seemed to yell something towards the inside of the settlement.

You were checking on Daryl again, terrified as he wasn’t waking up, when the doors of Alexandria opened. You didn’t know what to expect, if you were about to get shot or to get help.

A woman rushed out of it, and you had seen enough of Judith's drawings and had heard Daryl talking about her enough to know that she was Michonne.

Some people seemed to want to go out with her too, but she sent them inside. Dog ran to her, barking, while she ran to you, and you had to fight every fiber of your being not to run in the opposite direction. 

You’d never abandon Daryl when he was hurt and unconscious, not even at his family’s door.

“What happened?” Michonne asked, not even glancing at you as she reached your side, focusing on Daryl instead, kneeling next to him and looking scared…she really did care for him, then…she’d help you…but would she hate you? Hurt you? It didn’t matter now.

“They…they attacked us…” You stammered, you couldn’t help how terrified you were at everything. “The men…saviors, they were saviors, they shot Daryl…”

“Saviors?” Michonne looked at you at that. “Were they close?”

“Not close but…not too far…” You fidgeted, trying to breathe, anxious as you felt Michonne’s eyes on you.

“You’re Y/N, aren’t you?” She asked and you nodded. “We’ll talk later, now we need to help Daryl inside.”

You agreed, trying to ignore how your fear and anxiety told you that Michonne wanting to talk with you was something bad… Still, you were finding it hard to breathe, shaking as you tried to help her to lift up Daryl from the ground, who, to terrify you more, was not waking up.

“Hey…it’ll be okay,” Michonne told you, struggling under Daryl’s weight with you as you both tried to drag him into Alexandria. “We have a good doctor and medicine, we’ll take care of Daryl, we’ll help him, and he’s going to be okay, alright? And you don’t have to be scared, nobody will hurt you, you too will be safe here.”

You couldn’t say anything to that, you didn’t know if you could believe it, you felt like crying and throwing up, but you knew you couldn’t let your anxiety and fear take hold of you now.

Daryl needed you, and so you just focused on that, tried to mute everything else, as you kept trying to walk Daryl towards what you really hoped was safety, and the help that Daryl so desperately needed.

***

I have no idea where I’m going with this, but if upload again, it’ll be for the finish chapter, finally.

Please, leave me a comment if you have time, and reblogs are much appreciated.

As always, excuse my English.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon/reader #daryl dixon & reader #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon twd

[warrioreowynofrohan]

I rewatched the Alistair Sim (1950s) movie of A Christmas Carol tonight and wanted to jot down some thoughts.

The first part of the movie, up to and including Marley’s Ghost, is extremely faithful to the book - to the point of replicating most of the original dualogue, and also adding some of the lines from Dickens’ narration to the dialogue. About the only addition is Scrooge harshly refusing a debtor who begs for a few more days to pay, something which is in line with Scrooge’s typical behaviour - as shown by the couple in the Christmas Yet to Come part of the book, who are relieved by his death because they are unlikely to meet with another creditor who is so merciless - but which is not directly depicted in the book. There’s even a scene where a blind man’s dog pulls him up an alley away from Scrooge, like the narration in the book describes! And the change in music from Bob Cratchit joyfully heading home on Christmas Eve to Scrooge taking his “melancholy dinner in his usual melancholy tavern” perfectly conveys the change in mood in the book between those two scenes. The ghosts mourning that they cannot help the poor woman, at the end of the Marley sequence, are also included.

Oh, the other addition in that section is Scrooge’s statement that his nephew married “against his [Scrooge’s] will”, which is not specifically from the book.

The Christmas Past section is the part where the adaptation makes the most changes. Fan is an adult (or at least is, like Scrooge, in her late teens) when she comes to get Scrooge from the school; his relationship with her is given more centrality as he says she is the only one who ever cared about him, and that if he is not to be lonely then she must live forever. She is also shown dying after giving birth to Fred, and it is said that Scrooge’s mother also died giving birth to him, which his father resented him for. Also, Fan on her deathbed asks Scooge to look after Fred, but only after he’s left the room, so he doesn’t hear her; the moment he hears it is when we see the present-day Scrooge express real remorse. None of this is from the book - Scrooge’s mother clearly did not die giving birth to him in the book, as his sister Fan is much younger than him there. (Also, like all other adaptations I have seen, Scrooge’s memories of the joy he found in reading during his lonely Christmases at school are omitted.)

Scrooge’s business career is also expanded upon, with him (after Fan’s death, which is thereby implied to have embittered him) leaving Fezziwig’s employ for that of an unscrupulous man who also employs Mr. Marley; Fezziwig going out of business; and Scrooge later buying a controlling share in his unscrupulous employer’s company. I can see why the movie does this. The change lets it more dramatically show Scrooge’s change from the young man who worked for Fezziwig to the harsher, more ambitious, more avaricious man he became, rather than us hearing that only from his fiancée. For this reason, I’m more okay with this expansion than I am with the changes around Fan; I think the latter too heavily frames Scrooge’s later mindset as due to grief turned to bitterness, whereas in the book it’s more about greed borne of the desire for worldly respect and prestige.

Likewise, like The Muppet Christmas Carol, the movie shows Scrooge and his later-fiancée (here called Alice, not Belle) at Fezziwig’s party - a change which lets us see more of the relationship than just its end.

We also get a (rather unnecessary, IMO) deathbed-repentance scene from Marley, where hetells Scrooge they were wrong and to save himself, but Scrooge does not understand. There is nothing of the sort in the book.

There’s also another interesting shift. In the movie, Fezziwig says he’d rather go out of business than adopt the “new methods” of doing business, and then he in fact does go out of business. Alice says that when she became engaged to “they were both poor and content to be so,” full stop. In the book she says, “we were both poor and content to be so, until we could improve our fortunes by patient industry”. In a way, this feels like the movie grappling with a question surrounding the book - can one run a successful business in an ethical way? can one become well-off ethically? - that the book itself does not take up; but the movie ends without returning to the question and Scrooge’s later reformation indicates that yes, one can. Also in this vein, where the book shows Scrooge’s fiancée later on happily married with a houseful of children, the movie shows her caring for poor people on Christmas in something like a homeless shelter/food kitchen, which further dramatizes the differences between the paths they have chosen, that of avarice and that of charity.

The section with Christmas Present is very close to the book - the Cratchit family dinner again uses much of the original dialogue, and also integrates parts of Dickens’ narration into the dialogue. Christmas Present is almost exactly as the book describes him, and as the original illustrations in the book shown him, and even the celebration of the “miners, who labour in the bowels of the earth” is shown. Fred’s Christmas party is shown, and even the minor characters of Tupper and the woman he’s courting from the book (though in the book she is described as the ‘fat sister’ and here she is not fat). Fred’s joke about Scrooge is omitted and his goodwill to him is emphasized (the opposite of Muppet Christmas Carol, which focuses on the joke and on no one liking Scrooge; I think this versiondoes better in that respect).

The section with Christmas Yet To Come is similar to the book (though it starts off with Tiny Tim’s death - a good choice, I think, as it keeps all the material surrounding Scrooge’s death as a single sequence). The debtor family who are relieved at Scrooge’s death are left out, but the rest is similar to the book, and the rage-and-bone shop scene conserves a lot of the origibal dialogue word-for-word. This movie is where Mrs. Dilber as the charwoman - a small change from the book - and the expansion of her character comes from, and she is a good comic character with several great lines. The scene in the bedroom with the body is omitted, which I think is a necessity of film - even if Scrooge failed to recognize his own charwoman and his own curtains, film would make it too implausible that he could fail to recognize his own room.

Muppet Christmas Carol has a much better and spookier Spirit of Christmas Yet to Come than the 1951 film has - the faceless void is very unsettling, whereas in 1951 the spirit is clearly just a person with a black sheet of fabric over them (in one scene you can see the person’s face through the fabric). But that’s the difference between special effects in the 1950s and the 1990s.

Scrooge’s delight at finding he is still alive is dramatic verging on hysterical and gives some more funny moments, and, as in the book, he sends the turkey to the Cratchits’ anonymously and then goes to visit his nephew’s party (rather than showing up at the Cratchits’ with the turkey in person as in the Muppet version’s crowd song). And the depuction of him chuckling as he sends the turkey and writes the note is direct from the book. His apology to Fred’s wife feels like it has too much emotional emphasis given that he has never met her before; it’s as though the movie is treating her as a proxy for the apologies he would like to make to Fan and to Alice. But the scene on the whole is lovely, and the ending with Bob Cratchit is very good.

On the whole, this is a good adaptation - better than the Muppet one in some ways (particularly the Christmas Present scene, where it focuses on others’ celebrations as well as how Scrooge has made the Cratchits’ lives harder, whereas the Muppet one focuses on Scrooge being disliked). Its main weaknesses in my opinion are 1) an overemphasis on the role of Fan’s death in the younger Scrooge’s downward moral trajectory; and 2) Scrooge’s desire to change not coming until very later in the film, when he sees the callous reaction to his death.

I would recommend this adaptation to anyone who hasn’t seen it - it’s up there with the Muppet one as one of the best that has been made, and I was amazed at how many lines from the narration they had added to the dialogue, and how much of the atmosphere of the narration they captured (as one example, Bob is actually shown trying to warm himself at the candle). It’s available both in black and white and in a colourized version (as in, they later came along and physically coloured in the film reels; I can’t imagine how much work that must have been!).

#a christmas carol #dickens december #charles dickens #ebenezer scrooge #alistair sim

[intothemultifandom]

in spite of what critics are saying about the last few episodes of the the walking dead’s 11th and final season, there were a few things that just hit different especially with the finale: 

SPOILERS FOR TWD “REST IN PEACE” 11.24!!

.

.

.

.

.

.

. 

daryl barricading judith in the hospital the same way shane did to rick in 01x01 – like father, like daughter and even brother because he also carried her the same way rick carried carl when he got shot

 actually, daryl carrying judith into the hospital to save her life vs how he carried beth out after she was killed. the FEAR he must’ve felt given the last time he carried someone in/out from the hospital.

any scene between them + carol (keeping this short bc i can write a whole novel about their scenes) 

luke dying & being comforted by magna, yumiko, connie & kelly (his og group) during his final moments; even though he wasn’t seen for most of the season, dan folger’s acting + that of nadia hilker, eleanor matsuura, lauren ridloff & angel theory was TOP-TIER 

people always die in twd, but up until luke, the newish members of the group didn’t really suffer a sudden and harsh loss like the group from earlier seasons until now

that’s why his death + the group’s raw grief hit different when you consider how this is the first time we’ve seen them have to mourn one of their own so suddenly and with walkers literally banging on their doors

the team up of eugene porter & gabriel stokes = the two characters who, at one point of the story, were the weakest and most cowardly members of the group. i mean, the parallels of how they started vs. how they ended are insane:

eugene, who lied to abraham and rosita about knowing how to cure the infection almost making himself a martyr by telling the truth about the common wealth’s corruption, and 

gabriel, who locked his congregation outside his church to die being the first to open the gates for everyone even when pamela’s people had their guns pointed at him 

if twd did anything right, it was the development of these two characters

even if i didn’t know christian serratos chose rosita’s ending, i still would’ve thought she had a fitting end as one of the original (and last) big hitters for rick’s group on the road

it wasn’t painful and gory like abraham or glenn, shocking like sasha’s or even bittersweet like carl’s in the midst of war– rosita dies a dignified and otherwise peaceful death after all the bloodshed is said & done

she sees her people are safe, knows her daughter’s in good hands and finally lays to rest after fighting on the frontlines for so long

even with her gone, her final interaction with eugene at her side really cements that he is her and abraham’s legacy because “i’m glad it was you at the end” 

(someone make baby rosie looking up to older coco because her mom was her namesake + uncle eugene canon right now) 

this post-war celebration dinner mirroring the what-if dream dinner from 7x01 about what could’ve been (credit to this article for the pic: here) also makes rosita’s death so poignant to me because negan had likened the dream as something that wouldn’t ever happen

it’s not the same exact group and it wasn’t exactly her dream, but the sentiment remains the same

in the end, peace was possible for the alexandrians after all & i’m so glad rosita got to see this before she went & re-joined the others who are no longer at the table 

negan & maggie now established as two sides of the same coin: motives, beliefs and and now shared trauma of being unable to stop their partner from being killed (or almost killed, in negan’s case) as they’re about to start a family

maggie was never going to forgive him for what he did, but that in itself gives so much more substance to their spin-off and i can’t wait to see it happen 

rick “we are the walking dead” grimes + michonne “it’s true. forever” grimes – welcome back. 

#the walking dead #twd #season finale #episode 24: rest in peace #twd 11x24 #the walking dead spoilers #twd spoilers #rick grimes #rosita espinosa #eugene porter #gabriel stokes #yumiko #magna #luke #connie #daryl dixon #judith grimes #negan #maggie

[princesssarisa]

"A Christmas Carol" Adaptations: Top 5 Saddest Versions of Tiny Tim's Death (long)

@ariel-seagull-wings, @cliozaur, @warrioreowynofrohan

Since the Christmas season is almost officially over, and my annual hyperfixation on A Christmas Carol will need to be paused for another year, I decided to make this post while I still can.

These are my votes for the five saddest, most poignant filmed versions of the vision in Christmas Yet to Come of the Cratchits mourning Tiny Tim's death. A scene which fortunately never takes place in the real world thanks to Scrooge's redemption, but which is still heartbreaking as the Ghost shows Scrooge what might happen.

Honorable mentions include the silent graveside scene in Mickey's Christmas Carol (Mickey Mouse crying – enough said), the similar brief yet touching graveside scenes in Scrooge (1970), A Christmas Carol: The Musical (2004), and Scrooge: A Christmas Carol (2022), and the scenes in the 1938 MGM film (mainly for the quiet yet deep grief Gene Lockhart's Bob conveys under the brave face he wears) and the 1999 TV film (mainly for showing Tim's body as Bob sits by his bedside, the first version since 1935 to do so).

Scrooge (1935) (Donald Calthrop as Bob Cratchit, Barbara Everest as Mrs. Cratchit, Sir Seymour Hicks as Scrooge)

This is the most complete rendition of the scene from the book, and it's well done. From the opening as Mrs. Cratchit leaves Tim's bedroom in tears, through the subsequent slow pan through the house's main room, showing the gloomy children and Tim's empty stool and crutch amid gentle music, the poignant tone is established, and it increases after Bob comes home. This Bob avoids breaking down in front of his family, but as he slowly walks up the stairs toward the bedroom, alone, he's suddenly overwhelmed and sobs into his hands. Then he slowly enters the candlelit room, where – in a rare touch that no adaptation would repeat until 1999 – we see Tim's body laid out on the bed in full view. Ever slowly, Bob approaches, sits down, and murmurs "My little child," then kisses Tim's forehead. The whole sequence, underscored by soft choral music, has an air of delicate grief and reverence, similar to the famous scene of Disney's seven dwarfs mourning for Snow White that would premiere two years later. It might seem almost mawkish by modern filmmaking standards, but in an unabashedly old-fashioned and stagy 1930s film, it works. Meanwhile, the unseen Scrooge utters the narrator's words from the book: "Tiny Tim, thy childish essence was from God!" The scene ends with consolation, though, as Bob goes back downstairs and tells his family about Fred's sympathy, then gives his speech about how none of the family will forget Tiny Tim (holding Tim's crutch as he speaks it), and they all gather warmly around him. Dickens would have approved of a scene so faithful to his writing.

A Christmas Carol (2009) (Gary Oldman as Bob Cratchit, Lesley Manville as Mrs. Cratchit, Jim Carrey as Scrooge)

This CGI motion-capture film gives Tiny Tim the short shrift as a character, but it makes this scene effective through its portrayal of the family's raw grief and of Scrooge's horror at what his selfishness has caused. Whether to keep the scene fresh or due to changing social mores about grief, there's much less emphasis than usual on the family trying to be cheerful and hide their pain for each other's sake, and more open emotion. Most of the scene shows the Cratchits at a distance, without close-ups, but the pain can be heard in their voices: Mrs. Cratchit is crying, the daughters are crying, and even teenage son Peter is just barely restraining his tears. Then when Bob arrives, he makes only a brief, feeble attempt at cheerfulness before breaking down sobbing "My little child!" in anguish. Then comes the unforgettable moment, which takes full, rare advantage of the fact that the Cratchits can't see or hear Scrooge: Bob wanders to the stairs, where Scrooge is sitting, and unknowingly on Bob's part, the two men come face to face. Scrooge is horrified by the sight of Bob's exhausted, red-eyed, utterly broken face staring into his own. He longs to comfort him and apologize for failing to save Tim, and chokes out "Bob!" in an anguish-soaked voice – that single syllable may be Jim Carrey's best acting in the film. Yet Bob walks straight through him to go up to the bedroom, where we see just the shadow of Tim's body cast on the wall by the candlelight as Bob sits down and sobs at his bedside. Without losing Dickens' gentle touch, this is probably the most raw rendition of the scene.

A Christmas Carol (1984) (David Warner as Bob Cratchit, Susannah York as Mrs. Cratchit, George C. Scott as Scrooge)

This rendition of the scene is slightly more subdued than the above two, but its "tenderness and depth of feeling" (in the words of this version of Scrooge) stand out all the same, chiefly thanks to the acting of David Warner and Susannah York. As portrayed by York, Mrs. Cratchit is clearly the family's pillar of strength in this version, more so than in others; through her face is weary with grief, she restrains her tears – albeit not without a quiet struggle – and provides support and stability to her family. Meanwhile, Warner's Bob is warm and tender as always, and he tries to be cheerful, but his pain is closer to the surface than his wife's. As he speaks of visiting Tim's grave, he finally breaks down and weeps quietly into his youngest daughter's hair; then he tries to pull himself together and assures his family of how grateful he is to still have all of them, only to break down again while telling them about Fred's sympathy. But Mrs. Cratchit takes gentle command of the moment and encourages her husband: "Tim is part of all of us. For his sake, we must go on living. So long as we love one another, he will always be alive." Bob takes her words to heart, but he adds that surely none of the family will ever forget Tiny Tim, which the children all assure their parents that they never will. "I am a truly happy man" Bob concludes; despite the scene's sadness, we feel that he means it, with such a wonderful, tender family to support him through the loss and to always treasure Tim's memory. This scene stands out for the Cratchits' sheer warmth, tenderness, and quiet strength as they support each other.

Scrooge (1951) (Mervyn Johns as Bob Cratchit, Hermione Baddeley as Mrs. Cratchit, Alastair Sim as Scrooge)

This film is widely considered the greatest cinematic Christmas Carol, so naturally its version of this scene is especially poignant. It opens with a pan through the melancholy room as Peter reads a long passage from the Bible: not the Mark verse quoted in the book, but Psalm 91, which describes God providing strength and refuge. This change enhances young Peter's characterization, I think, showing his effort to support his mother and sisters through the tragedy. But he can only do so much, as we see Mrs Cratchit gaze mournfully at Tim's empty stool and crutch, and as their subsequent dialogue places Peter in closeup and makes his own grief for his little brother evident. When Bob arrives, the script departs from Dickens' dialogue as he tenderly describes his visit to the spot where Tim will be buried. He reveals that as he stood there, he seemed to feel Tim's hand slip into his own, and he felt comforted; he believes Tim's spirit was there, telling him that he's happy now and that the family must stop grieving and try to be happy too. But Mrs. Cratchit can only look at him with her eyes full of tears, and at the sight of her grief, Bob finally gives into his own. "Oh Tim! My Tiny Tim!" he sobs, burying his face in his hands. His wife kneels down and clasps him in her arms, and the scene ends as they hold each other in anguish. The musical score, with a gentle rendition of "Silent Night" underscoring Peter's Bible verse, and a slow version of Tiny Tim's theme – an innocent, music box-like tune – underscoring Bob's speech, adds greatly to the scene's moving effect.

And the #1 rendition of the scene:

The Muppet Christmas Carol (1992) (Kermit the Frog/Steve Whitmire as Bob Cratchit, Miss Piggy/Frank Oz as Mrs. Cratchit, Michael Caine as Scrooge)

Maybe it's sacrilegious to give my preference to a version of this scene where the Cratchits are frogs and pigs. But somehow, the Muppets and Michael Caine give it a poignancy like no other. The Cratchits go through the same motions they did in Christmas Present – Mrs. Cratchit and the children busy preparing dinner in the kitchen, the children all hugging Bob when he arrives, etc. But instead of happily bustling around, Mrs. Cratchit is crying; instead of comically tackle-hugging Bob, the children hug him tenderly and sadly; and rather than from church, Bob has come from the churchyard. He reveals that he chose a gravesite for Tim "where he can see..." but then stops, and explains that it has a view of the ducks on the river, which Tim loved to watch. Kermit's Bob has no "My little child!" breakdown – true to Kermit's character as a leader, he stays strong for his family – but his grief is still very clear. Each time he says "Tiny... Tim," he struggles as if he can hardly bear to say his son's name. Meanwhile, Scrooge is distraught. "Oh Spirit," he pleads, "must there be a Christmas that brings this awful scene? How can we endure it?" Finally, Bob consoles his children, saying "Life is made up of meetings and partings, that is the way of it," and that surely they'll never forget Tiny Tim. The tone of delicate yet deep sadness is only enhanced by the score, which gently reprises Tim's song "Bless Us All" throughout the scene. At the end, the camera slowly zeroes in on Tim's empty chair and crutch by the fireplace, as a horn plays the melody of "And in our prayers and dreams, we ask you bless us all." Making this scene even sadder is its subtext for the Muppets: the recent deaths of Jim Henson and puppeteer Richard Hunt. Kermit/Bob's "meetings and partings" speech is easily just as much about Henson and Hunt as about Tiny Tim. For that reason and others, this has my vote as the most poignant filmed version of Dickens' sad scene.

#a christmas carol #adaptations #comparison #tiny tim #bob cratchit #scrooge 1935 #a christmas carol 2009 #a christmas carol 1984 #scrooge 1951 #the muppet christmas carol #tw: death #tw: child death

[bayisdying]

Imagine being Slider's daughter (and Rooster's forgotten best friend)

TW: This imagine does mention Goose's death, cemeteries, headstones, funerals, etc.

Ron Kerner is a tough guy, okay? Slider doesn't cry. Not even a sniffle when his little girl is placed in his hands for the first time.

He misses alot of your milestones (first steps, etc) but your mom does a good job capturing the moments and putting them in your baby book for him to go through later.

He did however hear your first word, him and Ice were getting off the plane when he heard a sqeaul and a little voice calling out for "Dada"

No Ice he did not cry, he teared up, there's a difference.

When he gets into Top Gun, he is so happy but he knows it means leaving you behind again. You're only 4, but you've already been without him longer than most kids should ever be.

So when they let families come to visit? He flies you and your momma out to see him.

He literally is so happy to have his girls back with him. Again Ice, he's not crying. Slider doesn't cry. Shut up its allergies.

You love your Uncle Ice, and he loves you right back Little One.

Your Dad introduces you to a man named Goose, and you love him instantly. With his funny mustache,loud laugh, and piano skills.

Goose has a son who is only a few months older than you are and you two become attached at the hip.

Your best friend that summer is that sandy haired boy named Bradley Bradshaw. But you called him BradBrad and he was your everything that summer before your lives changed.

So many days in the sunshine, building sandcastles, wading into the vast ocean, and eating popsicles by the dozen together.

Literally went everywhere together. You hung out with your Dad's and the other pilots. You stick by Uncle Ice but you also like the guy they say is named Maverick.

The two of you are so cute, all the pilots love you two so much.

You remember July 29th 1986 for the rest of your life because of how broken you father becomes after Goose's death

You go to the funeral and hold your BradBrad's hand throughout the service.

Then you both leave the place where everything happened and don't see each other again until 5 years later.

Your Dad, Uncle Ice, and you go to Goose's grave every year. You try to get there early so your trio is gone before the real family shows up to mourn the man named Goose.

But on the 5 year anniversary you are met with the sweet woman Carole, and her son. Who is now taller than you, his hair a little darker, but the same kind eyes you saw in your dreams.

It was your BradBrad.

Carole comments how much you've grown since that summer, and reminds Bradley who you are.

You all go to a diner near the cemetery and catch up on the last 5 years. You decide that BradBrad is still the coolest person you know. He wants to be a pilot like his dad, and you happily agree with that plan.

Your Dad and Carole immediately shoot down that conversation.

It will be another 8 years and another funeral before you see him again. His mother's funeral.

You're both 17 now, right on the cusp between childhood and adulthood.

He's definitely taller now, his hair getting darker but still showing signs of the sandy hair he had when he was 4 years old, but those brown eyes were still the same.

You two make eye contact, but no words are said. You'd lost your own Momma a few years before, and still had no idea what to say to the broken boy standing there thanking guests for coming.

You didn't think you'd ever see the boy from your childhood ever again after that. Your last ties from that summer are pretty much gone.

You give your Dad a heart attack when you follow in his very large footsteps and join the Navy.

He is proud, don't get him wrong, but he wanted you to be literally anything else.

And once again, Ron Kerner did not cry. That wouldn't be very strong arms, great abs, himbo of him.

Your callsign is "Strike" because you're as fast as a lightning strike. You love that it's so similar to your Dad's.

When they call back the best of the best? Damn right you're one of them.

You make your way back to the place where it all happened all those years ago.

Walking into the Hard Deck you make a perch at the bar scoping out who else would be called back.

You see Hangman and Coyote playing darts in the back and have to smile because of course Coyote hasn't learned not to challenge him.

You watch as Phoenix walk in with two men who you don't recognize.

What you don't realize? A man in a leather jacket stealing looks at you, remembering you as the kid that he's watched grow up in the pictures in Ice's office.

Then the air completely changes when a man walks in with aviators on and a Hawaiian shirt on.

Your heart stops because for a second you are four years old again, and your Dad is introducing you to Goose.

You collect your thoughts and join the group.

"Well well Strike is here."

"In the flesh Bagman."

"I don't think we've met before, I'm Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw."

God if that didn't hurt you a little.

"Rooster this is Y/N "Strike" Kerner." Phoenix speaks for you. Hugging you close. You love the girl like a sister.

You don't see the look on his face, like he is trying to rack his brain.

You are a little shocked the next day when Maverick is announced as your teacher.

You hadn't seen the man in years but you knew your Uncle Ice still trusted him. So you trusted him

Until he started his bullshit and now you're wondering if Uncle Ice is getting senile in his old age. (And you may or many not text Aunt Sarah to make sure he's okay)

You put up a good showing but get shot down when you go up for the first time with Payback and Fanboy, who you've never worked with before but enjoyed.

You even help Hondo count their push-ups, because you're the one who warned them not to make a bet like that with Maverick.

"Lt. Kerner?"

"Yes Maverick?"

"You probably don't remember me much but.."

"I remember you Mav."

The older man looks stunned, but he wishes you luck on your next run.

You almost complete the course until Phoenix and Bob hit a curve too sharp and "crash" into the side of a mountain.

You're about to return to base when the bird strike happens. You watch they as spiral towards earth and eject when nothing else works.

You rush to the medical bay and breathe a sigh of relief when they are fine.

Meanwhile...

Maverick and Bradley are having their little fight and Maverick brings you up.

"What does Strike have to do with this?"

"Haven't you realized who she is?"

*cue confused Bradley*

Maverick pulls a picture out of his flight suit pocket. It's worn and torn. But there's a little Bradley on his dad's shoulder and a little girl on another man's shoulders. A little girl who looks strikingly like you (haha great pun Bay, you're welcome)

"Strike was the girl?"

"The girl who stuck by you that whole summer. Yeah that's her."

*cue confused Bradley again*

Bradley confronts you, and you two have a heart to heart.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to bring up bad memories."

"They weren't all bad that summer. You were there."

You accidentally call him BradBrad, and he laughs so hard.

"I'd forgotten about that!"

You're the only one allowed to call him that, Hangman tries once. ONCE.

So many hours just catching up and falling easily back into the friendship from many, many summers ago.

You find yourself slowly falling for him, but you're just happy to have him back in your life so you push away those feelings.

(Uncle Ice lives in this imagine because writing his funeral again is gonna wreck me soooo)

You're a Dagger Spare with Hangman. Just chilling on the tarmac hoping you don't have to go save any of your team.

Then Maverick goes down and you have to stop the scream that sits in your lungs. Uncle Ice will be devastated.

Then Bradley goes after him?

You let that scream out. You just got your best friend back you couldn't lose the boy with sandy hair and those eyes you had known and loved since you were 4 years old.

You and Hangman go save them in their bag of ass plane (thanks BradBrad)

When you land?

You forget where you are and pull Rooster in for a kiss many years in the making.

Maverick then shows you two a picture from 1986, you're kissing little Bradley's cheek. You both laugh at the little image

"I think we were meant to be Strike."

"I sure hope so BradBrad."

And no Ron Kerner does not cry when he walks you down the aisle to the man who looks so much like Goose it hurts

Ron Kerner may not have cried but he prayed that Goose and Carole were somewhere watching.

And also wondered if Goose found it as hilarious as he did that those two little kids in 1986 are now two grown up naval aviators in love.

God I love Slider so much, writing this was so fun.

Tagging the forevers: @kloofspeaks @notyoursbutlewis @roosterscockpit @callsign-milano @callsignthirsty

#top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #natasha phoenix trace #ron slider kerner #ron kerner #slider top gun #robert bob floyd #nick goose bradshaw #goose x carole #top gun 1986 #tom iceman kazansky #top gun imagines

[tarithenurse]

Consolation

Fandom: MCU

Pairing/starring: Loki Laufeyson x gn!reader.

Word count: 1487

Content: Mourning/grieving, death (nothing visual), sadness, fluff/comfort/consolation, referenced injuries, life threatening injuries, near-death situations, referenced combat, heartbreak...probably more sad stuff that I’ve blocked out. This is not a feel-good story.

A/N: Okay I’m really nervous what you’ll think about this one because it’s so different from what I’ve written before. Please let me know what you think. Also: sorry.

Consolation

... Reader ...

Not all missions go as they’re supposed to.

The mission you and Loki are returning from had been a co-op between Asgardian forces, the Avengers and the elusive Carol Danvers who had identified a hostile party of Sovereign. A splinter group out to bugger things up for both realms. And you had been honoured to be among the chosen ones that set out to combat them.

The plan had been to defeat the enemy.

That plan had been completed.

But at a steep cost.

There had been injuries, of course. It was to be expected when you’re up against a strong force that are unwilling to accept defeat, fighting until their last breath. But there had been fatalities on your side too. One for now but if the healers couldn’t help then the number would double.

A shuddering breath calls your attention back to the person next to you. Loki. He’s sitting with the elbows on the knees, dark leathers and creamy skin still smudged from the combat. He’s avoiding eye contact with everyone, just looking down at the floor between his boots, black tendrils of hair falling to shield his face.

From your seat onboard the spaceship, you glance towards the narrow cot where Fandral is lying, the white bandages already soaked through and with tubes sticking in and out of him – the Midgardian methods of healing are barbaric but they are all you have at your disposal right now.

Moving your gaze along it finds the figure lying completely covered under two capes – a red and a green. Immobile. Lifeless. Somehow your mind can’t quite see it and you’re not sure it would have made any difference if you’d gotten up to move the green cape in order to reveal the face: you’re not ready to accept the death yet.

You want to say something to him...but what can you do? Fandral, one of Loki’s few friends, is hanging on by a thread and...you glace once more towards the deceased. No, there’s nothing you can say. So you just sit, hoping that your presence will bolster the god just a little bit.

...

Loki gets up with zombie-like movements when the spaceship lands and he walks into the light of the setting sun without noticing the hubbub about him: healers rushing onboard with gurneyss to recover Fandral and help him, the returned heroes stepping off with tired movements – none of them celebrating the vanquish of the foe. But the victorious party does pause, all of them gathering up to watch Fandral and the covered body being brought away.

All of them with the exception of Loki.

You call for him gently, hoping to instill some hope or at least to get him to be checked by the healers himself...but your words fall on deaf ears.

Following the raven-haired god, you’re overtaken by Thor who clasps a large hand onto his brother’s shoulder, making him stop and turn. It takes a moment before Loki lifts his eyes to meet Thor’s gaze and you don’t hear any of them saying anything to precede the fierce embrace Thor gives.

By the time you come over to them, Thor has released Loki once more.

You trail behind Loki to your shared chambers and watch him lean against the door with his back. Slowly, his legs give way and he slides to the floor, his shoulders quaking but not a sound crosses his lips. Not even as his hands bury in his tresses, the long and strong fingers you love to feel against your skin now pulling at the strands.

Kneeling beside him, he doesn’t seem to sense your touch at first but at least it calms him after a moment and he picks himself off the floor. Rather than using his usual magic, Loki undresses piece by piece, discarding the clothes on his way to the bathroom.

Only as he stands under the cold water do the tears start falling, the salty trails immediately washed away from blueing cheeks. The frigid stream doesn’t bother you as you reach for him, your mind focused on consoling your love and easing his distress.

“I’m sorry,” Loki whispers.

“Don’t be,” you answer, stroking his back.

He keeps repeating the words.

...

He doesn’t bother to dry up, simply wraps a towel around his hips and then goes to collapse in a chair in front of the cold fireplace. It’s your favourite chair but this time you don’t insist on reclaiming it, knowing that Loki doesn’t need the squabble.

...

It’s late by the time a knock on the door rouses you both from the stupor you’ve fallen into.

“Yes?” Loki calls out, voice clipped.

The door opens to reveal Thor. He too has cleaned up though it hasn’t washed away the serious expression on his face. Stepping into the room, he looks around awkwardly before nearing his brother.

“What?” the raven-haired god demands though the usual emotion (often disdain) is missing. He sounds hollow. Broken.

Thor clears his voice. “Fandral will make a full recovery.”

You see Loki cock his head as though it’s the first time he hears the name. They briefly look each other in the eyes but then your love reverts to staring at the dark fireplace. “Good.”

It’s evident to you that Thor wants to say something yet he refrains and simply pats Loki on the shoulder before leaving.

“Darling,” you murmur once the door has closed, “you can’t stay like this.”

A shiver runs through him. Getting up, he brushes past you and only hesitates minutely at your side before magically dressing himself and stalking out of the room with you in tow once more.

He makes his way to the healers’ wing where he first visits Fandral who is lying unconscious in an intricate, golden cradle filled with the light of the healing magic. A healer explains that it will take time before the warrior will be well enough to wake up and Loki accepts silently.

Then the god turns and is pointed into a separate and cooler room.

There, covered in silvered and golden sheets, lies the only casualty of the mission. You can see Loki’s hands are shaking as he reaches out to pull the shroud aside and he hesitates.

“You don’t have to do this, my dear,” you whisper in his ear.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, tears streaming freely once more, “I can’t...can’t do this. Not yet.”

You understand. “It’s all-” you begin before with a flicker of indigo clouds, he vanishes from the room, forcing you to hurry through the castle to find him.

He’s not in your chambers once you get there and you have to hope that he’ll return on his own because if Loki doesn’t want to be found then no one can find him.

...

You don’t see the love of your life before everyone assemble at the docks where a single ship has been prepared to set out towards the edge of the world. It will be burning as it tumbles over, the pyre on board will see to that.

Loki arrives together with Thor and you take your place next to the younger of the brothers, fingers discreetly stroking his knuckles. He looks tired. Paler than usual. And you can tell that he’s been crying yet no one dares break rank and embrace him. Not even you.

Without a word, the crowd splits to allow half a dozen Einherjar to pass, carrying the shrouded fallen. Carefully, they lay the body on the pyre before retreating and allowing Loki to step up.

You shouldn’t follow him but you do and no one stops you. Everyone are too sombre to want to make a scene and after all...why shouldn’t you be there for your love?

“I’m so sorry....this is my fault,” he croaks quietly.

“It’s not,” you whisper.

And still...something seems off as Loki stands by the shrouded corpse. This time as he reaches out, his hands still shaking, he doesn’t hesitate to fold away the fabric to reveal a familiar face.

Your face.

It’s your forehead that he leans down to kiss, salty drops landing on once lively cheeks.

And you instinctively know: this is the last time you’ll see the face of your beloved so you keep close to him as he steps back on the docks. You don’t take your eyes off of him as the ship is set afloat, riding the currents. You memorize his features as the pyre is set ablaze by flaming arrows...

... Loki ...

His heart is breaking all over again, shattering into dust that never will be reassembled and he feels so unfathomably empty. Yet...the moment the burning ship tips over the edge of Asgard, a gentle breath of wind caresses his cheek and he could swear that for just a moment, the scent of his beloved is in the air and it consoles him.

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #Loki #mcu loki #loki x you #x reader #x gn reader #sadness #grief #MCU #mcu fandom #loki fandom #loki fanfic #loki fanfction #writing #fanfic #fanfiction

[starwarsloverpizza]

Again - 2

Maverick x Iceman x Reader/(Y/N)

Again: 1, 2, 

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Fighting, blood, bruises, cursing, somebody saying that genderneutrality isn’t a real gender to Fog, just in case you wanted to know. Slight sexual mentions, character death, someone calling the reader a whore so again just to let you know.

Taglist: @mobiusismyfav, @iceman-goose1​, if you wanna be added lemme know!

Notes: Readers callsign is Dragon, their R.I.O. is Ray “Axel” Jones, Fog is readers best friend, reader is a good fighter. Also, give me a word in my asks and I’ll give you a sentence for the next part that’s being made :D

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“What do you mean?” You asked slowly. You walked up to Tom and cupped his face in your hands. He wouldn’t meet your gaze, he looked down with shame laced into his features.

“Tom, love, whatever happened it wasn’t your fau-”

“No. They flew into my jet wash. I was so damn cocky, I just should’ve let Maverick take the shot. But no, I had to be a bitch and look at what I’ve done! Goose it dead…” He sobbed. His glassy eyes met yours, so many emotions and thoughts behind them. His brown eyes, his beautiful brown eyes, were laced with the deepest guilt you’ve ever seen. Sadness, regret, denial, grief, all of it.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him into a hug. He froze for a moment, unsure of what was happening.

“B-but, I killed him!” He cried.

“No, Tom, you didn’t, you can’t blame yourself, ‘aight?” You whispered firmly. You heard him chuckle lightly before giving back in to his sobs. You could feel him crumbling, emotionally, but also physically. 

While you could deal with this in bed, you couldn’t hold him up.

You let go of him and sat on the floor, back against the wall with lockers. He lowered himself to the floor and laid his head on your left shoulder as he weeped. Your sobs joined Toms as you clutched each other tighter. You two stayed there for god knows how long undisturbed. 

You kept thinking back to yesterday, you were just singing with him while he played Great Balls of Fire on the piano yesterday. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t fair.

But that’s what life does to you.

“Wonder where Pete is at,” You mumbled as you looked around. 

“M’right here,” Pete answered. His eyes were bloodshot and he was in regular clothes. You three shared a moment of silence. There were three emotions you could feel from this silence.

Sadness.

Guilt.

Fear.

The last two were coming from Tom. The fearless pilot was in a raging mental war. 

His father was never proud of him, ever. That’s what made Tom’s need to be perfect. It’s how he became the pilot he was. It’s also what tears him apart from time to time. There were other things he had wanted to do but never did because of his father. But the path he took led him to where he was now.

With you two.

“Pete, I’m so sorry for what I did,” Tom began, fresh tears streaming down his face. Pete looked absolutely heartbroken hearing this from him. He strode over to you two and cupped Tom’s face in his hands.

“My love, it’s not your fault. I do not blame you for what happened. I love you, nothing can change that,” He explained, his voice was hoarse. He proceeded to press a soft kiss onto Tom’s forehead. When he pulled away he laid his head on your right shoulder. 

In the silence you three mourned and cried.

You had to get it out before you saw Carole and Bradley again.

This morning you didn’t put on jeans and a t - shirt. 

Mav didn’t put on his leather jacket when he left your house.

Tom wasn’t swinging his car keys on his finger once he got outside.

Fog wasn’t cracking a joke. 

The four of you put on sunglasses as you approached your mustang.

The four of you were in uniform.

The four of you were leaving for Nick’s funeral.

Honestly, you were guilty for how fast this was going by. You guys had already given your speeches. 

Pete had already put the wings on Nick’s casket. This would hurt for him for a long time. You could tell even from where you sat that he wished that he would never have to do it again. After he knocked in the wings, he let his hand rest on Nick’s casket for a brief moment.

His final farewell.

Carole was being handed the flag, Bradley at her side. 

Bradley.

He loved his father so much. He’s so young, he didn’t deserve this. 

Goose didn’t deserve this.

A single tear escaped your eye once the reception was over. Nick was gone. One of your best friends was gone. Not on a mission and set to return at some unknown time, but forever.

Dead.

“Fuck,” You whispered through gritted teeth, only Fog hearing you. They could just tell what was up with you, when you were sad, when you needed comfort, even if you didn’t know.

“He’s still happy,” They whispered under their breath to you. You smiled, that's what you needed to hear.

Interesting.

“Bradley!” You called out to him. He cocked his head towards you and began to walk over to where you were standing. You kneeled down to his eye level and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t give up on your dreams. If someone tells you you can’t do it, holds you back, whatever else, you can. Don’t forget that,” You stated. The kid gave you a bit of a confused look before smiling and falling into your embrace. You hoped he took it to heart.

You really did.

It’s been two days since the funeral. You three had been carrying out Top Gun as usual. You all knew Maverick was having a hard time flying, but you didn’t blame him. Fog was still with you, thank god. It was great having them there. You four had been in your house until recently that afternoon, you left to go to the base to get a couple of things.

You ended up in an indoor common room, which was a main hangout for everyone other than the bar. There were a lot of people in the room. You waved that off.

All of your tears were spent, but you were still empty. Fog could tell. They might not have been as close to Nick as you three, but they continued to grieve with you. They were always by your side. They came over as soon as they heard, which was two hours after you three had left the locker room. They had raced to your house and went inside with their key. Fog being here for you, for the three of you, made you so happy you couldn’t even explain it.  

You were sitting on a table with Fog, Ice and Mav were leaning against it. Sundown walked up to you. You hadn’t talked to him much, simple greetings were all. 

“Hey, (Y/N), Fog, boys, I wanted to give you guys my condolences for Goose,” He stated. He was about eye level with you ‘cause you were sitting on the table. He was probably a couple inches taller than you. As was pretty much everyone. 

Except for Mav.

2 inches.

“Thanks man,” You said with a dry voice.

“I also wanted to tell you four something,” He added, venom seeping into his voice. The fuck was going on? 

“Fog, go fuck yourself. You and your ‘gender’ make no sense,” He began. As soon as he began you jumped off the table and got into his face. Even with Fog weighing it down, the table slid back a good four feet.

“Take that back right now! I do not have the self restraint to not beat you the fuck up if you continue,” You growled. Ice and Mav stood behind you.

“Maverick, you can’t fly! You were never meant to anyway. You and your family are a disgrace to the Navy,” He continued. You swung your right fist as hard as you could, aiming for his very punchable face. Ice caught your wrist. 

“(Y/N), he isn’t worth it,” He whispered. His voice was apologetic, he knew Sundown was way outta fucking line. You still needed to kick the shit out of him though.

“Ice, let me hit him,” You hissed as a warning, near harmonizing. Ice shook his head slowly, his eyes were filled with warning and worry. 

He knew you could fight. Hell, everyone did, Fog especially. You were probably one of the best fighters in the Navy. Whenever you got in a fight you always came out on top, always. Mind you, you had to have been in around 50 in your many years.

You groaned in annoyance, and swung with your left hand. You didn’t hit as hard with your left hand, and you weren’t able to carry out your momentum because Ice had a strong grasp on your right side. 

You were aiming for the center of his stomach, but Maverick caught your hand. Your eyes widened. You had never been held back from a fight before, and you weren’t gonna hurt either of them to get to Sundown.

You struggled against both of their grips, giving a good fight for it, but they held you where you were all the same.

“Heh, Ice has some sense in him. He’s still the fault for Goose's death, you three all know that. However, Maverick isn’t without blame-”

“You motherfucker! Take it back!” You yelled at him, tears forming in your eyes. You had the attention of many personnel right now. You struggled more against your lovers’ grips, but you couldn’t get out of them. You growled and kicked at Sundown, but he just laughed in amusement. You felt helpless, not being able to stand up for your friends in one of the best ways you could.

“Sundown! As an order from your superior, stop talking!” Fog said as they stood in between you two, causing you to stop kicking. 

“I don’t give a damn about what you say, even if you’re a five star admiral! Sit down bitch,” He exclaimed as he shoved them to the side. You yelled a string of curses and threats at him for that.

“Ha, aren’t you powerless right now,” He noted. This must’ve been an interesting scene for the people watching. Your feet were planted on the floor and you kept leaning forward against Ice and Mav’s grip as an attempt to even lay a single hit on this bitch.

With your fighting reputation, you would’ve at least shoved the people holding you back by now but you hadn’t. 

You wouldn’t.

You can’t.

“Let me hit him!” You pleaded one last time. You didn’t even look back to them, you knew they wouldn’t. You stopped struggling against their grip and stood still. They didn’t lessen their grip though. Smart decision.

“You better run the fuck out of here before they let me go. I’ll give you a ten second head start. When I get to you though, I will break your goddamn nose,” You bargained. Sundown laughed.

“I haven’t even gotten to you yet!” He said hysterically. Your eyes shot daggers at him as you panted. You used too much energy trying to get to him. You needed to gain some so you could beat him up as much as you wanted.

“You’re just gonna be another pilot to be forgotten once you're gone-”

“Same to you you cold-hearted fuck!” You retorted. He gave you a poison laced smirk before continuing.

 “You’ll leave no legacy or any mark of importance upon the Navy.” You could tell Ice and Mav were giving him a look, and seriously considering letting you go. 

“As for you and your personal life,” He began, leaning down to meet your gaze, “you’re nothing but another whore unworthy of actual love-” 

Your right fist connected with his nose. Your left fist to the side of his head. And you hit his nose with your right hand again. Blood was pouring from it. You kicked his stomach with your right foot and he staggered back a few inches.

You glanced at Ice and Mav, as a thanks for them for letting you go at him.

You smiled with the satisfaction of finally being able to hit him. You were drawing blood too, an added perk.

“Ok Dragon, let’s get out of here before things get out of hand,” Fog stated. It sounded more like a plea in a way.

“Too late,” Sundown replied. He ran at you, ramming you into the table you were sitting on earlier. You let out a grunt of pain when your lower back hit it.

“My turn,” He declared before grabbing your shoulders and pushing you down so your back was against the table.

Wait.

You knew what he was about to do-

He pushed you back against the table three times, head hitting it hard. Your vision blurred a bit and there was a faint ringing in your ears that echoed throughout your head.

You definitely had a concussion. 

Well, maybe. 

You didn’t know.

You shook your head, getting rid of most of the ringing.

Ice was about to hit Sundown. While you appreciated the gesture, no one interfered in your fights.

“Ice, don’t worry, I got this,” You slurred. Your head hurt so bad. You looked at Sundown with bloodthirsty eyes. You stood back up, swaying on the spot. Oh shit, hitting him wouldn’t be easy, but adrenaline seemed to help clear the blurriness a lot.

You looked at him, and even for all of his talk, you saw fear behind his eyes.

He should be scared. You gave him a smirk and the room filled with anticipation.

“Never,” you punched him in the face, “Ever,” You hit him in the face again, “Ever!” You yelled as you elbowed him in the gut. “Talk to me-” You backhanded him with your fist with so much force he fell to the ground, “Or any of them,” you kicked his stomach three times. He kicked you in the gut, but you grabbed his legs and stomped down on his gut with your right foot, “Like that-” He punched you on the right collarbone. “Ever-” You grabbed his right arm and punched his right shoulder back until you had dislocated it. “Again!” You had stopped your main rampage. You were kneeling on the floor and had his face pinned to the floor with your left hand.

“Understand Sundown?” You asked with sarcastic innocence. He growled as he punched you in the face with his left arm. It fucking hurt. You could taste blood in your mouth. You hit him in the gut again and pinned his left arm to the floor with your right foot and lined up a punch with his nose. From this angle it would break easily.

“Apologize and I’ll let you walk away,” You offered.

This is what made you unique when you fought. Before you would land the blow that would make them regret every life decision leading up to this moment, you would give them the chance to apologize and walk off with what they had.

Otherwise, they were gonna have an even worse day.

“I don’t take it back,” He growled with an edge of defiance. You shrugged and reeled back your arm. You drove it forward.

Crack

His nose was broken.

Job was done.

Murmurs fell across the room.

“Oh, I’m gonna win Top Gun this year too,” You said to him slyly. He was groaning on the floor, left hand cradling his nose. You looked over yourself. Your knuckles were bleeding and bruised. Your nose was bleeding and you had split your lip-

“Dragon?” You heard a voice ask.

“I copy,” You joked, leaning against a nearby table.

“Good fight!” You heard Slider continue. He was the person who called your callsign previously.

“Thanks bro. Also, congrats to all who witnessed! I’ll be giving out autographs next Tuesday,” You joked. A wave of laughter fell across the room, but only lightly among your nearby friends.

“Oh shit, (Y/N), you’re pretty fucked up,” Pete noted, his voice was laced with worry.

“Other than the concussion-”

“Not a concussion, doesn’t hurt as much,” You cut Tom off. He gave a relieved sigh before continuing. 

“You're bruised badly, bleeding from the face, and the back of your head,” Tom added. You could tell you were fucked up too. 

And why suddenly switching to their names? Dunno. You guess you were scared, so that explained it for ya.

“Thanks for letting me know, but I need to see Viper now,” You said. Fog had gotten some napkins for your face, which you took quickly. It stung a little bit, but it was better than having blood run down your face.

“I’m right here Dragon. Sundown, get the fuck out of here,” You heard Viper say. Sundown groaned before leaving the room. He might have to go to the hospital because of what you did to him, but he deserved it.

“Ah! Nice to see you sir!” You greeted him with a smile. You were holding the napkins against your nose so he could see it. He gave you one too, but his brows were knitted together.

“You fought well, I was watching,” He said with an edge of mystery. You nodded upon hearing that, not knowing how to respond. 

“Anyway, I’m gonna check if your head’s ok, but you’ll have to deal with the rest,” He explained as he led you four out of the room.

“Yea, I know, I know,” You trailed off, like you had said it before. Which you have, multiple times before. Mostly to Fog though, they were there with you for about 75% of your fights. They were the one who would patch you up afterwards if needed.

“Dragon, you should stop getting into fights, one’s gonna fuck you up bad!” Fog started as they came up to your side.

“No, no, no,” You grinned as you wagged a finger, “I know what I’m doing. Besides, you know my rule when it comes to fighting!” 

You two smiled at each other for a second.

“Whatever you do to me, I do to you tenfold,” You two recited, causing you two to burst out laughing.

“Does that rule apply to us in bed?” Tom smirked into your ear.

“Mother fuckerrrrrrrrr, you can’t do that to meeeeee” You whined as heat spread across your face.

“Especially while I’m around,” Viper added from ahead of you four. Your breath caught in your throat as you gave life a disgruntled growl.

“Forget you heard that,” Pete whispered.

#top gun #top gun 1986 #iceman #tom kazansky #maverick #pete mitchell #icemav #mavice #iceman x maverick #maverick x iceman #iceman x reader #tom kazansky x reader #iceman x y/n #tom kazansky x y/n #maverick x reader #pete mitchell x reader #maverick x y/n #pete mitchell x y.n #tom iceman kazansky #tom iceman kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky x y/n #pete maverick mitchell #pete maverick mitchell x reader #pete maverick mitchell x y/n #maverick x iceman x reader #maverick x iceman x y/n #fanfic #top gun fanfic #top gun ship #tom kazansky x pete mitchell x reader

[sophieswundergarten]

@nobodysdaydreams Come get your Notes!!!

(School is being. A Lot. But y'all know the drill: S.O.S., Amzing, Go read it, thank you)

Judgement Dayyyyyyyyyy

Sounds ominous

Flashback wrap up!! Yay!

MAYBE THINGS WOULD BE EASIER FOR YOU IF YOU WEREN’T CONSTANTLY SNEAKING AROUND, NATHANIEL

Ohhhhh

Milligan and Kate :( 

OH HE’S ASKING THE :LKJSD>

LITERALLY JUST STARTED FLAILING AGAINST THE KEYBOARD

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

TRYING TO CALM DOWN NOW

Oh, come on. TELL THE TRUTH. YOU CAN DO IT. PLEASE.

Come on. Come on, buddy. You can do it. Please.

NATHANIEL

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I don’t know what I was expecting. He’s still trying to make things fit into his ridiculous worldview, even though it’s a little better. Maybe someday…

Bods, I am giving myself nausea I am so invested in this story asjdfj

You are SO talented

Oh dear

Milligan’s wife

YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO MOURN THIS. ALL OF THIS. IT’S HARD. ANYONE IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD BE SAD. STOP YOUR NONSENSE.

Mr. Benedict being the best dad in the middle of all this ajdskjfd

(Him and Milligan, at least. The two of them are amazing)

They really need to tell the adults everything. It’s not exactly helping for certain details to come out at such inopportune moments

And now the secret’s out about him stealing the credit for her inventions…

Poor Garrison. Bods, I know you said she’s been “the villain all along”, but I just feel so sad for her. She’s such a special character and you’ve developed her so much I just want to give her a hug. She shouldn’t have done some of the things she did, but all of it is interlaced with such grief and melancholy I can’t ever really be mad at her.

Calling Sticky!!!

That detail makes me such warm and fuzzies. You couldn’t compromise the integrity of the plot to have him there, but they call him every chance they get and he’s genuinely caring about them and wanting to know everyone’s okay <3

Sticky’s Aunt and Uncle Mention!!!!

(They are just barely below Isaac on my list of people who are not at all major characters but I care about probably way too much)

Oh. He finally let go of some of it. That probably was hard, but felt kind of good. I’m glad he could do that.

An hour? He must have actually been pretty tired. I doubt he slept that night (Given he was experiencing a 24 chapter flashback asdhjdfj /j /silly)

SQ

OH, NICHOLAS DOESN’T KNOW, HERE IT COMES

“lovingly but forcefully preventing Mr. Benedict from jumping out of his seat and running off to find the nephew he’d just learned about, though he had no idea of his whereabouts”

Yep, that checks out ajsdfjd

Such a good line. You can always sum up the characters so well in just a single sentence

Constance’s turn!!

“The humility will help him grow”

Y’know what? Sure. That makes sense. Good plan asdfkj

SDFKJLDSDSFKJ:LDSFKJHDSFKJ:HDSFKJ:

SISTER TIME!!!!!!!!!!!

GOING INSANE

YOU DON’T KNOW HOW DESPERATELY I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS

I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS AND SDJFJHDSKJHDSJGD

Wait….

Is the sister psychic?

Ohohohohoho

Fake violets!

“You always did love drama and symbolism, so I suppose it does fit, perhaps as a pseudonym or an alias, but your legal name? Natty, I know method acting is a thing, but that really does take it a bit far.”

Is it bad that I think I like her a little bit too much?

Nessie!!!!

Afsjdkl; ads;kjasldfkj;;sdv lkj; asdf kj;lsadfkjl 

YOU NEED TO STOP IT. I CAN’T KEEP ABUSING MY POOR KEYBOARD LIKE THIS

SEYMOUR THE CAT

Bods, I am hyperventilating

Oh boy. She must have a pretty impressive memory. I’ getting a little spooked

Absolutely cackling that she’s shorter than him

Oh no, now he’s angry. I hope she doesn’t react badly…

OH NO. SHE’S REACTING BADLY. SHE DEFINITELY HAS SOME TRAUMA

Oh dear. Nathaniel…

This is starting to feel like your Christmas Carol AU, with the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come

Only worse

As much as she shouldn’t be hurting people, I’m kind of worried about Nerissa

(Also this reminds me of how fun and scary it was to play with her character blog!)

HAH. I don’t know why the adults think that politely asking the kids ot stay out of it is going to work.

Oh, Garrison

Constance is doing good at being intimidating, but she’s just a child. She shouldn’t have this kind of pressure on her, even if it mostly self-imposed

Pushing people off the roof? Are we taking cues from Cutter now? /j /silly /affectionate

Nicholas trying to be all surreptitious and spy on them adsjfjs

Ohhhhhh

They’re having a real conversation

Hugs for you, Bods

I know I haven’t really made any threats this time around, I’m just too enamoured with the story, so you and your possessions are safe for now

Nicholas makes a good point. She could easily just be a raving lunatic, but Nathaniel is usually sharp enough to catch a liar

I love how eager Nicholas is to hear Nathaniel’s nickname, it’s really sweet. And then Nathaniel is very upset and grumpy about it asjdfjs

It feels weird for me to see Nicholas speculate about whether or not their family used nicknames, because for me nicknames are an inherent part of family. You love someone, that just means you don’t always call them by their full name. My family rarely calls me my real name

Ohoh! And Nathaniel feels guilty about something, and he can finally share that. Very interesting…

AND HE IS HEALTHILY PUTTING HIS EMOTIONS INTO CONTEXT??? IS THERE HOPE FOR THIS MAN AFTER ALL???? /s /silly

I just really like that he uses the word “deduce”. It’s a good word.

OHHHHHHHH

THEY’RE HAVING A SIBLING HEART-TO-HEART!!!!!

I have so many sibling feelings right now. I could almost see this conversation happening with me and my sib. (If one of us were trying to take over the world asjdjasdk)

I really really do love redemption stories. They are so good and I love how sometimes you can “defeat the villain” with the power of friendship. I’m always on Nicholas’ side in that matter

I’m so happy to see all the callbacks to TOS. It makes me ridiculously and inordinately happy to see things starting to come together

SQ TIME

I’m so happy

Nathaniel is really deep in the guilt and self-bame hole right now…

Nicholas is always so ready to accept literally anyone into his family whereas Nathaniel has to be dragged and is so scared. Aw man, just thinking so much about them

Nicholas awkwardly asking about Curtain’s non-divorce akjdsdkjha I love it

PEDALIAN MY BELOVED

I’m really happy that Nathaniel gets to talk about them to someone now. I think he needs it

“you haven’t adopted any of your children” Yeah, maybe, but they’re still his children

I am getting more and more worried about SQ, Bods. He better be okay when we see him again…

Nicholas is having such a hard time accepting that it’s okay the Glenns made mistakes and Nathaniel having a hard time accepting his own mistakes in regard to SQ. THE PARALLELS, BODS, THE PARALLELS

ASKJLFDLKHUDF

AND VIOLET!!!

VIOLET AND JOHN!!!!!! I REALLY CAN’T WAIT TO SEE HOW YOU HANDLE THEM. I REALLY LOVE THOSE CHARACTERS

I love how you connected them with the violets. Just masterful work.

I’m really curious what happened between Nicholas and the Hopefields/John. I have so many questions

YEAH. PEDALIAN IS STILL HAUNTING THE NARRATIVE AKFDHDSFJJK

I AM TOO EMOTIONS TO GIVE YOU NOTES FOR THE ENDING

IT’S JUST TOO MUCH

WHOOOO!!!!!!!!! That was amazing, as usual. My brain is exploding. So, so many things. Most of this was a “live reaction”, save for the last scene because I got too excited and read ahead without stopping for notes. I just want you to know that I am beyond ecstatic to learn more about what you have planned. I cannot wait. You are such a wonderfully talented human, and I adore your thoughts and ideas. Thank you so, so, so much for sharing them <3

#s.o.s. #WHOOOO #I have to go to class now #But I shall be thinking about this for probably the rest of the day

[lola-andheruniverse]

SDCC got me in my feelings so much that I decided to rewatch The Walking Dead for the gazillion time. The first season is just a cinematography experience, isn't it? We have so many incredible scenes that put us on the edge of our seats! And every actor gives great performances, even those who appears only one or two episodes. So, because I love making random lists with gifs, here's my

🧟 10 highlights of TWD Season 1 in no particular order 🧟

1. Rick, Morgan and Duane just enjoying the hot water while showering on the sheriff's office. It's one of those simple and tender scenes TWD always knew how to do so we could connect with the characters.

2. Jacqui! Just every scene with her. She's funny and kind and brave. I love the little moment she has when she is sitting all alone on the Winnebago stairs mourning Jim. I would gladly trade her for a few characters that we've met later and are still alive on the show.

3. Glenn being Glenn: "Oops, let me get the cowboy/sheriff hat too!"

4. Andrea and Amy bonding time. Oh the coloring of this scene. How we the audience understand their whole dynamic by just watching this moment. One of my favourites!

5. Merle and how he's capable of saying something offensive on every single phrase that comes out of his mouth. I love him!

6. Little Carl and his little t-shirt with a dog paw.

7. Daryl's little angry fits and jokes. Zero patience, lots of sass.

8. Carol finding a grenade on Rick's clothes and going "hum, finders keepers" LOL Good for her cause then she proceeded to save TF asses for the first time.

9. The beginning of CARYL - not only because of the pickaxe scene, but how they start to be framed together from this episode on.

10. Rick's insistence on wearing his full deputy uniform. Yep, it's a metaphor of where his mind, heart and soul are on S1, holding on to order and civilization, yada yada. But I find it hilarious.

#twd #the walking dead #twd rewatch #caryl #twd season 1

[doctorwholover01]

So. I really don't know how I feel. I just feel numb. Mourning the loss of three thing being TWD, a show that dicked me about for 8 years but still helped me a lot. Carol, a character like no other that I will love until the end of my days who deserves the world and so much more and so much better. And Caryl, the ones who have helped me more than anything, who's ending again deserved so much more they should of gotten so much more. I think that's why I feel more numb than I'd thought. The I loves yous scene I'm ngl I felt like needed so much more. But it's more than I expected. But I still feel so unsatisfied. Out of all the characters, Carol and Daryl were the only ones, the only ogs left, that never got their happy ending which hurts more than anything. And still to the very last moment it makes no sense on why Daryl left the kids. Left Carol. After saying to Judith during the EP he wasn't going anywhere. But off he goes. The diolouge at the lake the I'm proud of you it made me hurt, she needed to hear that from him. The rest of it. It felt like a filler. Saying it'll be good for them if Daryl leaves, that Daryl wishes Carol goes with her, she looked upset about the job she is in but doesn't go. Makes no sense. Caryl still needed to be fixed as much as we got the i love you scene they were still broken. On several occasions they could of spoke this episode, during Daryl giving blood, while waiting for Judith to wake up from Tomi fixing her up. Even just a separate moment just one. For a talk to fix things.

I will miss Caryl so much, miss Carol and Daryl so fucking much. This numb feeling is not what I thought would be what I was left with but I can't stop crying because it hurts. For more reasons than more.

#caryl #daryl dixon #carol peletier #carol petelier #carol x daryl #twd #thewalkingdead #twd s11

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

Theres no real good reason for Natasha not to get a funeral in EG. I mean, instead of just a funeral for Tony, it could easily have been a double funeral with wreaths commemorating both of them being on display, cue the same line of mourners for them both. Even if Natasha wasn't buried on the Stark estate, they could have had a picture or a plaque or something... Heck, Clint and Wanda could have been shown standing in front of some sort of commemoration for her when they had their moment, with them getting a three minute scene where they talk about their favorite memories of Natasha, and where Wanda says that Natasha deserves to be remembered...and so should Vision. (And there should've been a scene of Wanda asking Steve what became of Vision's body after he died, to explain how Vision ended up in SWORD hands)

Damn straight 🙌

It was a conscious decision and the only reason they did it was because they wanted Stark and only Stark to get that tribute, the main point of EG was to give him a lovely send-off, it was never about the other heroes.

When you check what happened to the OG Avengers you got:

Steve's characterization completely ruined, sent to the past which is a huge regression of his character and he only had one short conversation with Bucky, didn't even tell Sam he was leaving, everything he did in that movie was ooc

Natasha is dead and all she gets is Bruce throwing a bench, and a story where she had been helping people during the 5 years was deleted

Bruce turns into Professor Hulk off-screen!

Thor is made into a joke, he's not shown compassion at any point, his "friends" make jokes and mock him and none of his story is even addressed

Clint becomes a cold-blooded assassin

The only OG Avenger treated with some form of respect is Stark even when he gives a Hydra speech not a single character says anything about it, he gets the final word time and time again. And while other characters such as Carol hardly make it to the movie because, as many fans put it, "she was too OP to be there", they think it's perfectly fine to have Stark magically solve time travel in his home.

They could have done many things: joint tribute, a funeral for Nat then another for Stark, the paintings on the walls could include both of them, Peter could be mourning Nat as well because they met in CW... they had many options. I do like that idea of having Wanda ask Steve about Vis though.

#anti tony stark #anti endgame #Natasha Romanoff

[twistedtummies2]

Good & Evil - Redeemed Villains

Welcome to Good & Evil: A Study of Heroes & Villains. I’m discussing different forms of heroic and villainous characters, different types of protagonists and antagonists, and providing examples of them each from various sources. Today, we’ll be talking less about a type of character, and more about a character arc. These are Redeemed or Redeemable Villains. Redemption is a powerful idea: reform and forgiveness go hand-in-hand with this concept. It’s one thing for a character to say they’ve changed, but they don’t necessarily have to mean it. And for those that do mean it, reformation means nothing unless the world is willing to give one a chance. THAT’S redemption: it’s not simply saying you’re sorry and you’re going to change, it’s that same sentiment actually having substance and being accepted by others. The concept of redemption is another idea that seems fairly revolutionary, but it’s been around at least since the age of Shakespeare, if not longer: in “King Lear,” the main villain of the story, Edmund, is a pretty nasty customer for most of the story…but in his dying moments, he repents and helps the heroes out, giving them a chance to try and stop the damage he’s caused. Indeed, many villains who seek redemption find it too late to enjoy whatever repentance they’ve experienced: even if they are mourned, they still pay the price for their evil deeds early on. Of course, not all villains who face redemption suffer for their crimes: some are able to enjoy the forgiveness and repentance they earn. Seeing these characters go from evil to good is the basis for some of the greatest stories in fiction.

Perhaps the most classical example is Ebenezer Scrooge, the central figure of Charles Dickens’ yuletide masterpiece, “A Christmas Carol.” At the start of the piece, there can be no denying that Scrooge is the villain of his own story, a Villain Protagonist. While he does nothing ILLEGAL, per say, his greed and his disdain for the world around him paint him out as a pretty nasty customer. He cares for nothing but his own profits, scorns the thought of true love, and, of course, sees everything good about Christmas as a mere “humbug!” When he is visited by the spirit of his former friend and partner, Jacob Marley, and the Three Ghosts of Christmas, not only do we come to learn why Scrooge is the way he is, which makes him more human and sympathetic to us…but we also see Scrooge change as a human being, as he begins to realize how badly he’s been living his life, and how his actions and inactions do have consequences on the world around him. In the end, not only does Scrooge decide he’s going to change his ways, but he sets out to earn forgiveness from a string of increasingly more difficult sources of that nectar, earning his chance to become a truly good man.

Not all villains face complex redemption arcs that span a whole story’s length, however. Many engage in what is termed “the Heel-Face Turn.” This when a character acts as the villain for the majority of the story, but towards the end of the tale, something happens that causes them to have a startling revelation. And this revelation inspires the villain to change and become good. Like I said before, many villains of this sort don’t get the chance to enjoy what happens later, but some actually do. For an example of this, look no further than Scrooge’s American Cousin, Dr. Seuss’ classic curmudgeon, the Grinch. In every version of “How the Grinch Stole Christmas!” - from the book to the cartoon to both of the feature-length film treatments (not to mention the stage musical) - the Grinch doesn’t turn good until right near the end of the story. Up until that point, he is a villain, plain and simple: a fiendish ne’er-do-well who revels in the misery he expects to cause, gleefully mocking and mangling the Christmas holiday as he seeks to eradicate it from Whoville. It’s not till AFTER he’s already “stolen Christmas” that the Grinch realizes the error of his ways. This realization strikes him so hard, the Grinch vows to change, and hurries to undo all the wrong he did up to that point.

For those villains that DO have a long redemption arc, the change from Villain to Hero is not always so straightforward. Sometimes they go through several stages and archetypes, as they steadily shift from evil to good. This is most common in television and in long written works with multiple installments; such stretched-out forms of media allow for characters to develop gradually, over the course of numerous episodic appearances. In the anime “FullMetal Alchemist: Brotherhood,” there are a few villains who end up being redeemed in the end (and a few who never repent or reform), but perhaps the most noteworthy is the Ishvalan extremist known simply as Scar. Scar starts off the show as a Villain, plain and simple: a serial killer who goes about killing alchemists in brutal fashion, due to some misguided, zealous beliefs. As the series goes on, however, not only does Scar show more and more sympathetic qualities to himself and his backstory, but he begins to change his morality as a person. He runs the full gamut, going from Villain to Sympathetic Villain to Anti-Hero to Flawed Hero…and finally, one would argue, to a full-blooded, true-blue Hero.

On that note, One of my favorite examples of a Redeemed Villain, and one of the most recent, is Varian from Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure (a.k.a. Tangled: The Series). This is because Varian actually goes through TWO different story arcs. He starts off the series as a Fallen Hero (more on that setup another time), and ends the show as a Redeemed Villain. When the series begin, Varian is a friend and ally to Rapunzel and Flynn Rider, our main protagonists. However, a variety of incidents and misunderstandings causes Varian to go…well…kind of freaking insane, to be blunt, and he transforms into the show’s first “Big Bad,” acting as the villainous main antagonist for the latter part of Season 1. When we next meet Varian, however, it turns out the young alchemist has had time to cool down and rethink his life choices, and he ultimately decides to turn over a new leaf and try to make up for his past misdeeds. This isn’t an element that goes away, as - post-Redemption - Varian still has to deal with his dark past and the consequences of his actions. He remains racked with guilt, and still has some dark sides to his personality that pop up here and there. By the end of the show, though, he’s truly become one of the Heroes again.

Some characters who face redemption may stop being Villains, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they stop being Antagonists. After all, old habits die hard. Actor John DeLancie has played at least two examples of such a thing: Q from the Star Trek franchise, and Discord from “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.” In both of these cases, these characters start off the show as chaos-spreading Villains, plain and simple, with few redeeming values to speak of. They’re entertaining, but they’re seemingly pure evil. HOWEVER, after a couple of episodes, both characters face some sort of crisis moment, and realize that maybe their philosophy of life is completely wrong, and there are things they’ve come to value they never valued before. It’s recognizing these new values that allows both characters to reform and seek redemption…HOWEVER, even after both of them “go good,” neither stops being an antagonistic presence. Q and Discord are each chaotic trickster figures: mischief-makers who may not always intend outright ill will towards anyone, but certainly cause plenty of trouble any time they show up. Even when trying to do ostensibly good things, their roundabout methods wreak havoc, and both are still selfish and egotistical creatures who don’t always make the right choices. In others words, while they CAN be Heroic characters, they more often play the role of Anti-Villain or Anti-Hero: still a sign of change, but clearly there are a few bugs in the system that need to be sorted out.

Redeemed Villains are unique because, in essence, they represent what Heroes ultimately represent: hope. However, because of the arc they face - starting off evil and becoming good again - they give us hope in a very different and unique way. Redeemed Villains teach us the basic lesson that it’s never too late to change one’s ways. As long as one is alive, there is always a chance to do something good, something better, with the life one has. On top of that, they also teach us that forgiveness, while not always easy to gain, is almost never impossible to earn: if thieves and murderers can be accepted and forgiven despite their past misdeeds, it makes us feel that we, too, can be forgiven for any trespasses we’ve done against others. Even if we can’t make up for it completely, and even if there’s always a chance we’ll still make mistakes later on, learning from our own wrongdoings is an important part of life. Redeemed Villains, in a way, teach us that, no matter what, there’s always room to learn and improve as people.

#good and evil #a study in heroes and villains #redemption #redemption arcs #redeemed villains #villains #heroes #protagonists #antagonists #character types #archetypes #analysis #the bad guys #mr. wolf #prince zuko #zuko #avatar #the last airbender #the grinch #how the grinch stole christmas #ebenezer scrooge #scrooge #a christmas carol #varian #rapunzel's tangled adventure #tangled the series #scar #fma brotherhood #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #discord

[kurt-wagner-official]

Post #113: UXM issues 230-231

Finally, we get to slow down and see Ororo rejoicing in her powers as she flies over Australia. Down below, Maddie is regaining her own agency in a nice parallel as she explores the Reavers' sophisticated computers. She's getting the hang of it and is proud to finally have a way to contribute to the X-Men, although tragically it comes much to late to heal the X-Men-related rift between her and Scott. Using the computers, she guides the X-Men through a sparring session, which goes very well. The team has finally learned to trust each other, and with Ororo back, they finally have a good leader (no offense Logan, but that is not your strong suit). One X-Man didn't show up though- Longshot's psychometry powers are drawing him to the Reavers' vault of stolen money and treasure. Some of the stolen objects have absorbed the psychic energy of their own violent history and have manifested as lonely spirits, which overwhelm Longshot and render him comatose. While he sleeps off the mental overload, Ororo cleans their base of operations, which is under a ghost town, and Anna brings a picnic basket of food to Gateway. It's a nice beat for her; other than maybe Logan, she's the loneliest X-Man, and unlike him, she's not content to wallow in loneliness, so it makes sense that she'd reach out. Longshot wakes up and tells everyone how much residual tragedy the Reavers left in their wake, and they decide to fix as much as they can by returning all of the treasure. After Longshot and Betsy have read and sorted every piece of loot, Gateway sends the X-Men all around the world returning the items in secret. Ororo's errands bring her to New York, where she sees the New Mutants miserable in a snowstorm mourning their mentors who abandoned them. Ororo gives their spirits a little boost by clearing up the weather enough for them to keep caroling. When the deliveries are finally done, the X-Men realize that, by coincidence or fate, they delivered all that stuff on Christmas Eve. As everyone relaxes and enjoys the good feeling, Anna takes some cake and a wooden recorder to Gateway as a Christmas present. He still doesn't say anything, but he motions for her to sit with him and plays her a song. This was my favorite issue in a while, and one of the sweetest ones. It was cool to see Longshot center stage in a dramatic role, and he was probably the one who got the most catharsis out of helping lost spirits. And the whole team got a reminder that no matter how dark their world has become, they don't have to stay edgy; they can spread joy just as well as justice. And Anna and Gateway is such a sweet friendship. This is the kind of one-off story Claremont was writing at his peek, and even though he's gotten a little too excited about plots and X-mythology lately, he can still write some really lovely character moments and a totally sappy Christmas story.

We open with a short scene of Illyana, dressed in fancy clothes and in a trance, being prepared to be eaten by a mysterious villain. Elsewhere and else when, Peter is letting off some steam by smashing Australian rocks. He's still unable to revert to human form, and he doesn't realize just how hot his steel skin gets in the sun until he picks up his sketchbook and it catches fire. He starts sobbing, until Ororo comes to cool him down literally and emotionally. He tells her how worried about his sister he's been, and how he can't concentrate enough to control his strength. Ororo doesn't think it's a good idea for him to break their cover with a visit, but the choice is taken out of her hands when Gateway offers Peter a portal. It turns out he sensed Illyana casting a necromancy spell from Limbo, trying to bring Peter to life, so he sends Peter there. He finds her battling S'ym for control of Limbo. Between the T/O virus from Magus and the army of rebel demons and enslaved Right members Illyana sent him, S'ym is approaching Illyana in power, and seeks to dethrone her. Peter attacks him, impervious to both his T/O and magic powers, but Illyana calls him back; this isn't why she brought him here. Earlier today, she was reading some Russian literature when some of the characters appeared in real life and kidnapped her to bring her before Baba Yaga, the Russian witch that eats kids. Illyana escaped, but Baba Yaga has cut off the mansion from magic, so she needed Peter to go save her team. He does so, beating up evil witch minions and destroying things left and right. To reach the kids, he has to use all his will to return to human form and squeeze through a gap, before reverting back to destroy Baba Yaga, whose weakness is metal. Illyana cures her friends of the precooking spells on them, and Peter compliments her on a good plan well executed. She says she doesn't deserve that, because she's evil and she only did this because she wanted to, and he tells her that's all good people ever do. She thanks him and releases him as Gateway takes him back. She thinks about resurrecting him again, but thinks about what he said and decides not to, knowing such a spell could corrupt her into Darkchilde forever. She goes back to the mansion, and S'ym monologues evilly about how Baba Yaga was one of his minions, sent to either kill or corrupt Illyana. It didn't work, but he'll only need to succeed once to take over Limbo. I liked this issue. It made me realize something; Ororo, in her attempt to become the leader and hero mutantkind needs, has placed herself above human emotion. She still loves and cares as deeply as ever, but it's a little aloof and detached, like a guardian angel rather than a mother. And of course, Logan has always separated himself from his emotions. But Peter refuses to feel any less deeply and humanly, despite being cut off from his human form. If the X-Men followed his lead- if they didn't cut themselves off from the New Mutants and X-Factor- Inferno would have been prevented. But of course, they don't know what's coming, and trying to live outside of the world has made them all the more blind to it.

#wes reads xmen