#some of you have been fortunate enough to not have had a monster to fail at 'parenting' and it shows

[chiisana-sukima]

Oh when you used to sing it to sleep

@jinkieswouldyoulookatthis and @blue-chimera - thank you both for your kind and thoughtful replies to my reblog of this post. The og post is getting quite long and also I don't want to put too much writing effort into a reblog that's susceptible to disappearance, so I'm continuing here instead.

I agree with you both that Dean's parentification and Sam's continued acceptance of vs rebellion against it as an adult are an important part of their dynamic. Dean's dying words in the finale attest to this beautifully (as well as many other things throughout the course of the show); I love you so much, my baby brother. To a certain extent Sam is Dean's baby and always will be.

I think though to a large extent, the framing by both Sam and Dean of Dean as Sam's parentified elder sibling is a mutually employed, mostly cooperative sanitization of the central and most damaging aspect of the roles they internalized through their upbringing: Sam is a monster and Dean is the tool to "take care of" it (double reading of "take care of" 100% intentional on my part). Because of this, while readings of spn through the lens of Dean's parentification are definitely valid, I do think they sometimes risk distorting or leaving out important aspects of the characters' personalities, motivations, and relationship.

Jinkies, in my fruitless quest to process without reblogging a take I knew the OP wouldn't appreciate, I had listened to the interview before posting, and I think while Jensen is being flip, he's also getting at what he sees as a truth in the brothers' relationship. I think he's right from a Doylist/co-creator/actor's perspective--Sam is the protagonist who we see through Dean, the deuteragonist's, eyes. Dean, as a piece of the narrative artifact, Supernatural, is there to save Sammy in a way that Sam (up to that point anyway) is not a piece of the narrative artifact whose purpose is to save Dean. From a Watsonian/in-universe perspective though, I think he's mistaken, and that his mistake is the reason his take sounds uncharitable, even aside from the flippant part.

It's just not a very convincing analysis imo to frame a character who spends the first few seasons rejecting immoral power, the next few in an arc that ends with him willingly subjected himself to eternal torture for the good of the world, and the one after that intending to sacrifice himself dramatically to rid the world of one particular species of monster but doesn't because Dean asks him not to, as self-absorbed or not particularly concerned with his effect on others, including on his brother. Likewise, Dean holds up well as a parentified older sibling with no sense of internal self and abysmal self-esteem in some ways, but in others not so much. He does have interests and priorities and a sense of purpose outside Sam. They're all over spn every day, much more so in fact than Sam's are. They're just not enough to override his Sam prioritization.

The main place I think this analysis fails on Dean's side though is that he, as an adult, is just not a very good parent. Obviously as a child he couldn't be expected to be a good parent (or a parent at all) and as an adult he's already damaged and so it's understandable that if big brother-ing Sam is how he chooses to spend the rest of his life, he may still not be equipped to do it. But he fails on such a fundamental, obvious level at the the most basic aspects of parenting--providing safety, unconditional love, and preparing your child to go out into the world as an independent adult--in ways that once he's a grown up are absolutely within his power to at least attempt (for example: if he wants Sam to be safer, it would ultimately have failed because of Fate, but the logical thing to do first would be not hunt. Dean could've followed Sam to Palo Alto. He could've told him to go to Harvard Law if he can't tolerate Stanford after Jess dies. Could've refused to support him throwing his life away of a mission of revenge. Bought him his own car, encouraged him to have his own tastes. Told him convincingly that trusting Ruby was a bad decision but Lucifer is still not his fault).

None of that is meant to be insulting to Dean though, because I don't think that parenting Sam is Dean's real job--even from Dean's perspective--and I don't think his real job is palatable enough that it would be better for either of them if he admitted what it is head on. What his and Sam's real jobs both are imo is being a container for Sam. On Dean's side, this means holding Sam in his arms with love or if that's not enough, holding him in the panic room, which, from this perspective, is also an act of love. Substituting his judgement for Sam's is an act of love. Not encouraging Sam to hold his own interests first or to grow towards independence are acts of love. Given the nature of (what I believe to be) Dean's actual job, they are effective and competent acts of love undertaken under impossible circumstances, even if the results are sometimes pretty horrific. Because they're still better than the alternative.

Likewise on Sam's side, doing his job well means being a model monster--go to an Ivy, exercise, eat healthy, cultivate empathy, don't have desires of your own, hold yourself to an impossible standard, suppress your anger, kill other monsters when they get out of line. And in the moments he can't manage all that--because who can?-- submit to Dean. When he does those things, he's succeeding at his job, and while it would be nice if "let your brother hit you" or "jump in the Cage with Lucifer" wasn't his job, in the world of spn, it is. He is right to be contained by Dean and wrong to have opinions or priorities of his own unless Dean approves them first.

I do think this sometimes ends up looking like Sam has better self-regard, because Dean's job is to "take care of" Sam, and Sam's job is also to "take care of" Sam. But actually they both have absolutely abysmal shit self-esteem. "I should submit to eternal torture because it's my fault someone else is going to do terrible things he could choose not to do if he wanted" is not the thinking of a person with healthy self-regard. The reason neither of them could fill a thimble with their self-esteem or healthy boundaries imo is because neither "monster" nor "blunt instrument" is a person. Neither of these roles is better or more healthy than the other. Fundamentally, if you don't see yourself first and foremost as a human person, then your life is going to suck horribly. And neither of them see themselves that way.

#spn meta #sam winchester #dean winchester #my meta #discourse in the linked post #long post #i am ofc like all of us to some extent projecting #some of you have been fortunate enough to not have had a monster to fail at 'parenting' and it shows

[thejujvtsupost]

Hello, I am a first timer here. I would like to humbly request something. Can I please request for a Platonic Nanami and adopted daughter reader. The reader is not used to a normal environment and they are used to fighting and surviving

Girl Dad Transformation

I’ve been stewing over this so hard bc it’s been giving me the cutest ideas!!!! And ofc Yuuji is so big brother coded here.

Notes: F!reader, brotherly!Yuuji, Nanami and his adopted daughter 🥺. That’s it.

Nanami didn’t think about the long term impact of adopting the orphaned sorcerer. Surely he wouldn’t change that much…

All he knew was there was a 5 year old girl clutching her only toy- a stuffed bear, who could see ‘scary monsters’ and no longer had any family, thanks to the curse that was tormenting humans for fun; he was just a little too late.

The poor thing was terrified. In the blink of an eye his hand was seized by a freezing, much smaller one with a death grip.

Nanami got you looked at by Shoko and you refused to let go of him the entire time. By the looks of it, you were malnourished and you frequently got injured from curses. Your home life was fairly unstable too, financial issues and absent-detached parents. Shoko got a lot more information from you than he ever expected, piecing together some of your history from your seemingly unrelated answers, as children do.

“She’s going to have to stay for observation, probably several weeks until we can get her healthy enough. She’s going to need a special diet too, I haven’t seen a case this bad in a long time and she’s too young for cursed energy.”

His heart was crushed for you, when was the last time you had somewhere stable? “Why are you telling me?”

“You found her, she’s clearly attached to you and you know you can’t turn away now. You look at her like she’s Itadori. It’s just until I can find a place for her at a home or foster.” Shoko never fails with her dead pan demeanor and sass.

She was also right.

He looked back at you, you were passed out in your hospital bed covered by several blankets and hugging your bear. Finally, you were warming up. Finding you a home could take months if you went to a foster or orphanage… “Don’t bother,” he swallowed thickly, “I will adopt her.”

Shoko’s face softened further, “You can’t go back on it, you already earned her trust. If you’re really sure then I think this will be good for both of you.”

He did his best to be at your bedside when he could, and you were quiet but clearly in need of comfort. Your favorite thing to do was have him read to you with cartoons on a low volume in the background. “Nami, book?” Nanami picked up a book off the stack Shoko brought and started reading. No complaints, and after the first few days he didn’t bother hiding his smile anymore.

He spent a fortune on converting his spare bedroom into yours. He didn’t even know what 5 year olds liked, but according to the first years and Shoko, he needed to make sure you had various toys (he bought everything Yuuji pointed out to him- Yuuji definitely went overboard but Nanami didn’t stop him), clothes and of course you’d need signed up for school.

When the adoption was final and he brought you home for the first time, he was thoroughly instructed how to parent by then, he was ready.

You… weren’t. Not yet. You didn’t know that your room was yours. All the toys and clothes, everything was yours. ‘Nami’ kept the ‘scary monsters’ away too…

“Hey it’s okay honey, I know it’s a big change.” He wiped the tears from your chubby cheeks and smiled softly. “You belong here, you’re safe now.”

A grown up was taking care of you, for good this time.

It was a journey every day but worth it as you came out of your shell, and he encouraged you with a gentle hand. Of course there were setbacks too. He wasn’t perfect, he definitely wasn’t good at laundry at first.

He was new to parenting and it was exhaustingly difficult to navigate yet he was completely whipped for you, never turning down a tea party or invitation to watch cartoons together. He became a complete girl dad overnight.

All it took was, “Nami! Play!” And he’d be on the floor in the living room playing with the doll you handed him.

You started eating more, even requesting different meals when he asked what you were in the mood to eat. “Nami, can we have soba?”

Nanami couldn’t say no to you. “Soba sounds great.” He’d have the softest smile on his face too.

You played more often, and eventually made friends! Yuuji claimed the title as your first friend but you were encouraged to make more- he helped you practice asking your classmates about themselves and how to invite them to play with you.

And Nanami… he never forced you to call him dad. He loved you more than he ever thought possible. He was always proud to call you his daughter, bragging about your excellent kindergarten grades and your recent achievement of becoming the line leader at school for the week.

But the first time you did happened a month in, while doing your bedtime routine and picking out a night night story. Instead of ‘Nami’ he was gifted: “Daddy, can you read the star book?” He let out a tear and hugged you tight.

Nanami tucked you in, kissed your forehead and sat on the edge of your bed, “Yeah honey, I’ll read you the star book.”

Thinking about making a request? Check my bio to see if they’re open and stay tuned <3

#asks 💌 #request answered #request #no use of y/n #jjk x reader #reader insert #platonic #girl dad #nanami fluff #adopted reader #jjk nanami #parental nanami #accidental baby acquisition #itadori yuuji #nanami kento #big brother Yuuji #jjk requests #Yuuji is so big brother coded 🥺🥺 #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen

[chuulogy]

. . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 HOME IS WHERE YOU ARE ; an akutagawa ryuunosuke fic.❞

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . ahhhhhhhh finally the man i simp for is here!!

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . tw ; fem!reader, angst, comfort, hurt/comfort, husband!akutagawa, father!akutagawa, wife!reader, akutagawa siblings and their slight bonding time, akutagawa is insecure and feels he is a worthless shit, dazai angst (mentioned for aku regarding the older and his mentorship), slight suggestive ending and that's all i remember tbh

oxygen is absolutely essential for human survival and so are some more external factors which extends further then what a human's basic needs may require. however, we aren't talking about human needs but rather what one's humanity needs.

in initial years even the strongest man alive would need a father, a pillar of support and a bundle of knowledge.

of course the mafioso never had the privilege of having this one figure and rather he was this figure for his sister but only his sister knows if he played the role right or failed.

what he, the mafioso who is now on his way to exit the slums he grew up in, is sure of, is that he is failing as an actual father and as a husband.

"maybe if it was a daughter  . . . instead of a son then . . .  maybe you could've seen gin in your child and loved it." were the words you uttered in despair a week ago to him, what resulted in these words being spoken was the incompetent man himself who felt himself flater when he picked his  son and the nearly one year old began crying. he wasn't scared or else you would've not wasted a second in taking him from akutagawa's arms but rather it was the feeling of finally being adored by the man whose appearance he takes after greatly that moved the naive heart of his son.

akutagawa couldn't take the horrifying resemblance out of his mind. the way your chin wobbled and lip quivered as you tried not to burst into tears and the eyes glossed over with tears which screamed of despair was what he found on his son's face as well. and he wondered, truly he did of who is more starved of love ; him, his son or you?

his only regret was that he stood like he always did whenever faced with the outburst of someone he is close to though the one who made him adopt such a habit isn't here anymore with him and the next morning, akutagawa had to leave for a week long mission overseas with his sister and of course he would crumble and his facade would break when gin found him staring at a picture of you and his son on his phone one night when he was fooled to think his sister had already submitted to her slumber, she didn't, she watched the previous and the night before it as well but waited for the cause of her brother's despair.

akutagawa pushed his hand into the pocket of his long coat and felt for the small velvet box as if the object could help to soothe his nerves and anxiety.

he told gin everything for who else if not her whenever something concerned you? when the topic revolved around you or around your son, the only person akutagawa trusted enough was his own flesh and blood. and he wonders why gin respects, admires and loves him so much when all gin felt was admiration for the man she feels fortunate to call brother.

but akutagawa doesn't feel so. he is but failure in the rawest form. a tragedy and a utter ugly and horrible mess of his past self which was broken by the mind of curiosity and joined back in a way he (akutagawa and the man who was once his mentor) knew there was no going back to who he was before. but that's fine after all, akutagawa had been a monster since birth.

akutagawa's hand left the box which oddly provided him with strength as he stood infront of the door behind which lied his home, he punched in the pass code before hearing the click of the lock unlocking and the cold of the metal he pushed down on felt a bit too chilly today.

or is this because he is scared of failing? of disappointing and of loosing the only chance he has of having a family of his own and proving to himself that he can be something more than a tossed aside toy?

akutagawa shook his head as he entered the apartment and closed the door behind him with his leg to see the boxes containing many items ranging from clothes to toys and teethers and various other items which akutagawa bought himself for his son with the assistance of his sister during the last two days after the mission was completed.

akutagawa took off his shoes and quietly strolled into the nursery room. he stood infront of the crib and peered down at the face of his son. akutagawa gulped as why was it that such an innocent soul was cursed to have features similar to him but just softer?

akutagawa's hands turned to fists by his sides as he continued to stare down at his son with a longing and he pondered for a while.

after what seemed like five minutes of contemplating, akutagawa saw his son stir in his sleep and he got alarmed thinking the little one would wake up at any moment. the little boy turned to face akutagawa and opened his eyes and oh.

akutagawa's heart beat fastened and his eyes widened at the innocence and purity in his eyes. he had this innocence once too. so did gin and maybe, maybe dazai did too?

akutagawa ridded himself of all these thoughts before he leaned down to pat his son's back, the latter looked up at akutagawa and the father had to brace himself and use everything in him to not cower under the pure stare of his son whose face brightened at the sight of his father. the boy giggled and the father closed his eyes, the combination of his son's giggles and his own heartbeat is oddly not that bad or unbearable to hear.

when akutagawa opened his eyes again he saw the boy raising his little chuuby fingers to akutagawa and he hesitantly raised his own hand towards his son as well but before the boy could take his father's finger in his hold, akutagawa flinched and pulled his shaking finger back.

the boy pouted but blinked for how can his young brain comprehend the horrors and anguish his father is experiencing?

akutagawa stared at his fingers and then at his son in horror, he couldn't let the soul filled with hope and dreams to be tainted by touching his hands which are daily stained in blood.

but when his son began to whine and babble as he made grabby hands at akutagawa, the mafioso could only stand his ground for a few seconds before his resolve crumbled and he extended his hand for his son to hold.

the little boy immediately latched his hand around akutagawa's fingers and giggled, a smile appearing on akutagawa's face as well. he turned to look towards the door to see you standing there, leaning on the doorway with your head against it and arms crossed over your chest.

akutagawa found it hard to breath but so did you. how were you supposed to talk to the one you are afraid of disappointing and how were you supposed to talk to the one who felt too scared to be cared for?

but one more glance at your husband's finger gripped by your son and your heart melted like it always did and you smiled in defeat at akutagawa, letting him know you had let your walls down again and are ready to talk to him again. the man widened his eyes slightly in surprise because truth be told, he seriously thought he failed and messed everything up this time and that this is the last time he would be able to see his son or you and hence he tried to savour the moment.

slowly and very faintly, akutagawa smiled back and tilted his head.

"i missed you."

there it is again, the feeling of hope of having a future brighter then the past when he read what you silently whispered and akutagawa nodded before he awkwardly looked at his son again, pursing his lips but then he looked at you and muttered,

"gin missed you both . . . and so did i."

the words makes you smile as you nod and turn around to leave the man alone in the company of his son. only lord knows how hard it must've been for your stoic husband who is generally bad with dealing with feeling and emotions to utter these words to you.

you smile as you sit on the couch and take your phone out to ask gin when she would be returning at night as the woman was immediately called to the port mafia headquarters for what you assume as her reporting her end of the mission. you hit the send button and scroll up to play the video again which gin sended you two nights ago, the video showed akutagawa with furrowed eyebrows as he compared two different types of rattling toys before looking at gin and shrugging, he said something along the lines of "both looks shit. how on earth do kids play with these?", before he tossed both into the shopping cart behind him as gin giggled.

you remember how when you saw the video for the first time and read the caption gin added 'looks like papa is trying to make up to his baby and wife.', made you smile and your anger immediately evaporated.

it must have been ten minutes later when you were leaning back on the couch with your legs on top of the coffee table infront of you when the door to the nursery was quietly closed, you turned your head to see akutagawa approach you after what you assumed was him putting his son to sleep, the thought itself made your heart swell with adoration.

". . . i put him to sleep." akutagawa whispered albeit he remained unsure of what to do. should he sit on the couch next to you or continue awkwardly standing infront of the coffee table under your gaze which seemed to see way beneath the layering of his clothes and skin and made him feel utterly exposed to you?

he decided on the former.

akutagawa sat next to you and you tilted your head in his direction as he contemplated before he extended his hands to grab your thighs and place your legs on his lap, it gave him a sense of security as he tricked his mind into believing he is being restrained until and unless you two clear the tension between you two but you both knew it was mostly so he could have something to focus on rather then looking into your eyes with the fear of his stoicism slipping away.

"it's not that you are a bad father." you began after concluding that he wasn't going to make the first move, you looked down as you picked on your nails to distract yourself, "you are trying. and that's what hurts ryuu. you are trying and i see it, i see your efforts but our son . . . he is not even one yet, he doesn't and won't understand it. us trying isn't enough for him because he will grow up to despise us both because he doesn't know you like i do, he hadn't seen you struggling and . . . and he won't see you as a father but as a man he shares the same features and last name with." you confess.

your voice isn't soft nor is it gentle, it is shaky and unstable, raspy and filled with sorrow. but akutagawa was never into that type anyway, the calm before the storm? yeah no. akutagawa knew the storm and felt calm in it for he is the one who grew through the storm and lives in it.

safety and protection is a luxury he never received but is trying to give.

". . . i know." he answered after a long moment of silence and you looked at him, thickly gulping as the nimble and lithe fingers of your husband traces over your thigh. he pushes your nightgown upwards to reveal more of your skin to him. "maybe your biggest misfortune was falling for a monster like me."

the words hit you and you feel the effects of it physically, your breath got stuck in your throat or did they even ever travel through the windpipe because maybe the latter can explain why your eyes are getting teary.

your brain sighed at the way your heart is making these baseless excuses to explain its sadness at the words of the one it dances every day and night for.

akutagawa sadly looked at you and he felt time blurring around him, your eyes filled with tears were shining or maybe it was the light reflecting it?

okay but how will he explain his own heart beating faster as if mimicking your's to not let your heart dance the waltz of sorrow alone?

"then change my misfortune into fortune." your voice cracks as you look at him through teary eyes, head tilting as you smile in defeat and in response, akutagawa comfortingly squeezed the flesh of your thigh.

"what good is in having faith in a lost case?"

"what good is not looking past your exterior? i just . . .  love you alot to even think of you as a lost case." you answer before you look down as you part your lips but close them again before gathering the strength to look up at akutagawa, "are . . . i thought about this alot but  . . ."

you take a deep breath, "am i holding onto you against your wishes ryuu?"

you were going to clarify your meaning and feelings more but it all disappeared the moment you saw akutagawa stare at you in utter surprise on his usually stoic or sad and almost lost face. you take a few shaky breaths to not burst out crying as that'll just hinder your conversation and so instead, you shrug and try to smile admist your quivering lips.

"what made you think that?" he asked, voice uncharacteristically soft.

". . everything since the past few days." you answer and watch akutagawa pat your thigh as an indication to ask you to move closer to him.

"i told you i am a lost cause. i'll hurt you and disappoint you."

but how can he when even the tone he is using with you is one which felt as if it's a feather tickling you?

"i also told i don't care, i can take it as long as you love me." you mutter out, moving near him as you hide your face against his shoulder and akutagawa gripped your hips to lift you up before adjusting you to sit sideways on his lap.

"can you take it? are you ready to wait for an excruciatingly long period of time?" akutagawa muttered against the top of your head, his hand smoothed the nightgown cloth against your legs.

"always." you breath out, closing your eyes.

akutagawa looked down at you and shook his head, leaning down to kiss your nape before he mumbled against it, "you really are an idiot for saying this."

"let me be one then. a idiot in love." you peek up at him and akutagawa took it as an opportunity to cup your jaw and pull you towards his mouth.

"does this make me the fool trying and disappointing you every time?" he whispered against your lips and licked his own.

". . . you are a good father and a good husband. you . . . i just i don't know."

"you don't know?" akutagawa's lips curled up into a small and amused smile. you leaned near him and the distance between your lips and his is enough for someone watching from a distance to assume you two are kissing.

"i just know that i want to spend my life with you even if it means waiting for you, i just want to appreciate your efforts for me and our son but . . . that'll only be possible when you stop viewing yourself as a monster."

"and what am i if i am not a monster?"

"my husband." you close your eyes as you lean to kiss him, akutagawa hums before raising his hand to massage the spot behind your ear while the other gripped your thigh to pull you more onto his lap.

akutagawa closed his eyes as he repeated the words 'my husband' in the back of his head. the title fills good and soft on his tongue and maybe it's why his shoulders relaxed as he moved before laying down on the couch with you still on top of him as he didn't break the kiss for even a second.

━━━━━━━  🎀  end.

#bsd #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs x you #bsd x y/n #bungou stray dogs fanfic #bsd fanfic #bsd x female reader #bsd akutagawa #akutagawa ryuunosuke #bungo stray dogs akutagawa #akutagawa x reader #gin akutagawa #akutagawa x you #akutagawa x y/n #akutagawa angst #akutagawa siblings #akutagawa fluff #⋆˚࿔ nie #for you angel 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️ Ranking Richonne

#8: Must've Been Something Else Then (S3E16)

I adore this scene to the moon and back. 😍 It's at this moment that Rick officially lets Michonne know she's a part of the family. And of course, he does it with a dash of flirtation. 😋 Truly, this lovely scene feels like the earliest moment of the two hinting that there’s something oh so special between them...

I love the staging of the scene as it opens with Michonne looking up at Rick as he walks down the stairs. And there's just something sweet to me about the way they walk alongside each other in those color-coordinated outfits. 😊

It’s always commendable seeing that Michonne is so understanding of the difficult position Rick was put in with the Governor's deal about her. And it’s great that she directly addresses it rather than tiptoe around it.

Not only is Michonne understanding, but she’s still so completely on Rick's side and it shows how much she has always seen Rick for the good man he is. They trusted each other before they knew they trusted each other, I’ll say it over and over. 😊

And it’s nice that Rick gets to be met with compassion when so many other times characters have not given him this kind of genuine compassion.

Then it’s good to hear Rick give a sincere sorry for how close he came to giving her up. Michonne proceeds to do what she’ll do many times in their relationship and reminds him of the good in him when she tells him “But you didn’t.” She’s confident that giving her up is really not what Rick wanted, and she’s right.

Once they got past their initial sussing-you-out tension, Michonne really did become Rick's bond that flowed with the most ease of all the characters. And she built him back up at every turn, even here in season 3 by affirming he's still a good person.

It’s nice cuz I feel like Rick is a character who can take on a lot of guilt, so it’s great seeing another character so assuredly relieve him of guilt to remind him that he might make controversial choices but he’s not a monster.

(& I have a feeling in TOWL, Rick will again be wrestling with a lot of guilt since he feels like he "failed" at getting home, but fortunately, the one person who can most restore him and relieve his guilt is on her way to save him both literally and emotionally 🤗)

So Rick nods and then I love this silent little lingering look they have. The chemistry. 😏 I always think one of the cutest elements of Richonne's pre-canon days is the way they both so clearly feel this attraction to each other but are trying to keep it at bay - but like that passionate tension between them can’t help but seep out because...

And in this subtle lingering moment, you can feel that while Rick and Michonne are in the early stages of their relationship, something more is absolutely brewing between them underneath. Anytime they look at each other long enough, that becomes clear.

Then Michonne acknowledges she never thanked him which is kind that after everything with the Governor deal, she actually wants to thank Rick. And it's also nice cuz the first thing Michonne ever said to Rick was, 'I didn’t ask for your help.' So it shows she's had some growth since then to now want to thank Rick for the way he helped her. And he significantly helped her by bringing her into this new family.

Rick asks, "For what?" and Michonne says, “For bringing me out there that day. Taking me in.” And I know they’re talking about the initial day he brought her in but “taking me in” also feels like thanking him for the way he slowly brought her into the fold of their family.

I’ve always felt that part of the Clear run with just him and his son was Rick's attempt to really know that he could bring Michonne into the fam like he deep down wanted to. And I think Michonne knows that despite all his talk of sending her away, Rick really did continue to take her in more and more.

Also, I just like the wording of it cuz Rick’s eyes also always seem to be taking her in too, as he does in this very scene. 😋

Rick responds saying, “If you didn’t have that baby formula, I wouldn’t have.” And Michonne and us both know...

(Also I love that this early pre-canon scene features Rick and Michonne talking about the baby formula for their daughter 😋) 

And again, I love that Michonne doesn’t let Rick run from the good man he is when she looks at him and perfectly delivers the line, “You could’ve just taken the formula” It's true tho. And people like the Governor would have done just that. Michonne knows that in this world, what Rick did for her was a gracious act, and she doesn’t let him downplay it.

And then hearing Michonne say that is truly all it takes for Rick to drop the act and let her know that she’s right. I love how quickly he folds here. 😋 And why this moment makes this list is largely because of what Rick says next.

Cuz those Richonne tones make an appearance as Rick looks at her and just sends my heart soaring when he says, “Well, must’ve been something else then.” 

I hadn't happy danced in these Top 30 posts yet, but this line right here is gonna do it for me every time. 😋 Ahhhh, I adore this response and the delivery of it. This is such a classic line in Richonne's story. 👏🏽

It's so special, especially because after these 5 words, Rick really fully accepts Michonne and is never hostile to her ever again. Richonne's connection has been powerful and magnetic since they first laid eyes on each other, and this is the moment they stop actively resisting that undeniable connection. And from here on out, they never look back. They only grow more and more fond of each other until they fall head over heels in love.

Low key, if I could ask a fictional character from the show something, I’d be Iike, Rick, friend, what exact thoughts were going through your head when you said this line right here? Like...

Because no matter how I look at it, it just feels like it’s a moment of Rick deep down knowing something special draws him to Michonne.

I mean it’s factual to say the man is super attracted to her and, as I've often said, their love story was a slow burn but the attraction was instantaneous - so this line just felt like Rick coming close to telling on himself that he might like her more than he even understands at this early stage.

I love that there’s something flirty about the fact that Rick makes the statement more ambiguous. He’s not showing all his cards just yet, but he’s clearly okay with Michonne knowing at least “something” is there between them. 

I know my Richonne brain is going to see this as so romantic-coded, but even if I were to turn my Richonner side of me off, this still just feels really telling that Rick can sense deep down that Michonne is something special and that he has a unique connection to her.

I'm just looking at Rick in this telling scene like I definitely know you are feeling her, and since it's still early...

So I love the line but then I especially love Rick's reaction after he says it. 😊

To me, Rick's reaction after is almost more telling than the line. Because some would say the "something else" he was referring to was strictly Carl making the call, and that is definitely the larger aspect of it for sure, which is sweet in and of itself - but Rick's look after the line suggests that the "something else" really could have to do with his external and internal attraction to Michonne as well.

First Slick Rick looks down and then not so slickly tries to play off checking her out by looking up and around. Idk, if you ask me, I feel like something in him knows what that look down was about, and that’s why he so quickly tries to play it off by unsubtly looking every which way. Like what was on the ceiling that homeboy needed to look all the way up like this lol??

Y'all, all that looking around was because of "something else" between them, if I do say so myself. 😋

But then, as Rick often did at the beginning of his relationship with Michonne, he tries to play off his own liking of her by letting her know that his son also has grown fond of Michonne.

It's sweet to see Rick give credit to his son Carl, who is also Michonne's future son and bff, for making the call to bring Michonne in.

Rick tells her, "He said you belonged here." And I like how talking about Carl and baby formula for Judith makes this whole moment with Rick and Michonne feel even more familial. #DestinedToBeFamily.

And then I always loved that while Rick lets Michonne know it’s Carl who embraced her and made the call to bring her in, he then says, “You’re one of us.” 

He could have added, 'that’s what Carl said,' or whatever, but instead Rick says it as an outright statement because Carl isn’t the only one who thinks this. Rick knows it’s true that Michonne is one of them, and I love that he tells her this directly as something he also believes.

And, of course, it’s extra great knowing just how true the statement will become as Michonne becomes Mrs. Michonne Grimes, the invaluable and beloved Grimes family matriarch.

Michonne, who always can communicate so much even without words, just gives Rick a look in response to this, and I love the look.

Michonne is someone who can read people really well so I wouldn’t be surprised if in this exchange she somehow could read that the energy between them here is different.

Her look at Rick before she walks away is low-key giving...

Lol no but being for real, I am not saying Michonne or Rick are yet aware of their deeper feelings for each other at this point. And they’re definitely still in a healing stage from their past traumas that would prevent them from fully realizing that their ultimate love story is right in front of them.

It's just that Michonne's look suggested that somehow she sensed a little something between them, even if not yet cognizant of what exactly that something was.

And I mean, Rick couldn’t really ever hide that she has an effect on him so it's not like he was all that subtle - which I’m always here for whipped-out-loud Rick. 😋

I know Michonne also really appreciates receiving this ultimate seal of approval from Rick that she truly is a member of tf and a very valued member at that. She's officially home. And you just knew Rick and Michonne would remain united through thick and thin after this.

Then Michonne walks away after their lingering look and Rick silently watches her and I love the little entranced spell Michonne seems to always have on him. And the scene ends with Rick following in her direction, as he’ll do many times in their journey going forward. 😊

Y’all, this moment is just top-tier, and the spark between them was evident as early as s3. Like, you can't tell me this scene didn't shine a blinking neon sign that said Richonne’s story is a love story.

Season finales pretty much always ensured we were fed with great Richonne content and this is the first Richonne season finale, setting the tone for all the greatness to come. I love that Rick and Michonne always end each season closer.

This moment, with Michonne showing so much understanding and compassion, and Rick so willingly telling on himself by letting her know that on the kismet day the universe brought them together there was something else, something deeper, that led him to bring her in, is a wonderful contribution to their love story and a glimpse into what they will become to each other.

And I’ll forever be grateful that Rick and Michonne weren’t brought together just to be partners in crime but rather to be something else too - to be soulmates with the best possible love.🥰

#richonne #top 30 #Also I know as we get closer spoilers and leaks get harder to avoid but I wanted to reassure you I won’t put any spoilers in these posts #I’ve been avoiding them too so I don’t really have any spoilers to reference anyway since I want to go into TOWL as fresh-eyed as possible #So unless it’s a reference to something from an officially released TOWL trailer then you don’t have to worry about any spoilers here 👌🏽 #top 10 #number 8 #rick x michonne #reveling in richonne #twd 3.16 #twd towl #the ones who live

[lurafita]

Evilist of all evil, Magnus the Evil

(Super crack)

Magnus was evil. The big bad. The evilist. The biggest, baddest most evilist around. Totally. Super evil, diabolical genius with magic who was gonna rule the world!!!

... right after he gets that little girl's kitten out of that tree.

Or, how a possibly slightly crazy-ish Magnus fails at being evil, and instead finds a familiy of choice and the love of his life, in these people he keeps accidentally helping out.

(Originally posted in a Malec Discord server, where one other member added this little jewel):

Magnus is like "But I needs to do the evil today?!?🥺"

Alec: "Umm…I saw you get up to help an old lady with the groceries not 10 minutes ago AFTER you were done feeding kittens on the street…?"

Magnus: "🥺 But…evillll"

Alec: What if you were evil to the bad guys?

Magnus: They're not bad they're just misunderstood 😔

Alec : 😒

(Which made me add this as well):

(Magnus saying the bad guys are misunderstood got my brain going like): Magnus: "Like those guys that kidnapped me earlier." Alec: "You were kidnapped?!" Magnus: "Yes, see, they lured me into this white panel van with promises of 'a good time'." Alec: "Hasn't anyone had the 'stranger danger' talk with you?!" Magnus: "Of course. I'm a danger to the stranger, because I'm evil. Now, back to the gentlemen in the van. As soon as I was close enough, three of them grabbed me and one tried to chloroform me. Which of course didn't work, because I'm much more evil and therefor stronger than them. So after I beat them, we had a long talk. Turns out they got me confused with some rich heir to some family fortune, who they wanted to ransom back to his parents for lots of money. Money which they then wanted to use to pay off the hospital bills for the kid of a dead friend of theirs. Turns out the widow is badly in debt because of that and might lose the house, and then she and the kid will be homeless. But you know how much can go wrong with kidnappings, especially of people who are very rich and well connected. And these guys clearly weren't cut out for that. So I helped them rob a bank instead." Alec: "…"

(And another)

Alec gets home one day to the sight of Magnus rocking a toddler on his lap. The toddler is giggling happily, inbetween sucking a big lolly pop. Magnus has a similar lolly pop between his lips. Alec is… concerned. Alec: "Magnus? Why is there a child?" Magnus: "Well, it all started with me stealing the lolly." Alec: "You stole candy from a kid?" Magnus: "It's the evilist thing one can do, so I had to. It's the law. Anyway, I swapped out the kids lolly with a new one, because I may be evil, but I'm not a monster. And then I realized that the kid's lolly had been poisoned." Alec: "Oh my god are you okay? Should I call Cat?" Magnus: "Don't worry, Darling. I'm much too evil for this weak kind of poison to affect me. But the kid would have bit the dust, no question. A little investigating then led me to the kid's uncle, who is the legal guardian of the little one, and tried to get rid of him to get his hands on the money the dead parents left the kid in their will. So then I sent the uncle to my father and stole the kid."

#magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters tv #malec #malec prompt #crack #cracky evil Magnus #can I tag it 'accidental baby acquisition' if there was nothing accidental about it? rofl #Magnus “I stole a lolly and then a baby” Bane #and Alec “whelp guess we have a kid now” Lightwood #Yes. I have a similar prompt like this. #I just have too much fun with this concept

[thr-333]

Lol I can totally see big Leo and the kids in the events of the movie... oh wait, that's bad 😨😱

Deep breath in, out slowly, carefully. The difference between meditative breathing, stealth and panic attacks wasn’t all that different. Which was fortunate because Leo was currently multitasking.

“Move quietly,” He ordered, voice low enough to only get picked up by April and CJ by his side, “We get in, get it, get out, if they catch us before we reach it, retreat,”

“We have to get the key no matter what,” CJ reminded, tensely staring down at where it had already been placed in the keyhole, waiting to be activated.

“We don’t have enough fire power to go toe to toe with the foot,” Leo shot right back, “If we’re found out stealth goes out the window, I’ll portal right to it, but you two retreat,”

“Roger,” April said with only a half mocking salute. CJ nodded, determined.

“Get the key, stop the Kraang,”

Leo motioned for them to move out. The three slipping quietly through the shadows while the foot soldiers listened to their leaders speech. Leo kept his gaze locked on the key. The thing that would let through apparent monsters set on destroying the world. Past him had failed to stop it. His little brothers had grown into teens among the apocalypse.

Future Leo had sent CJ back, alone. If he was able to send anyone back to safety it would have been one of his brothers. Which meant only one thing:

None of them were left to send back.

Leo was not letting that happen. Ever. He was taking this mission seriously, which meant the kids had to stay behind. Despite their arguing, this wasn’t some villain of the week they could have a playdate with.

They reached the platform where they no longer had the benefit of a crowd for cover. From here out it was solely reliant on the shadows. CJ looped around to the other side when Leo signalled. April stayed watching his back as Leo skulked onto the stage. He melded with the shadows, the key in his sight, it was in his reach. The secret to his brothers safety and happiness-

“Hey! You villains!” Every eye in the warehouse snapped up towards the hole in the ceiling. A little turtle standing proudly with two more at his side, “Get ready to be pounded like a boss!”

“RapH!” Leo’s voice cracked on the yell. Most foot soldiers distracted by the little snapper dropping down in the middle of the crowd. The leaders by the stage however noticed Leo, cover blow.

“You!”

“Me,” Leo smirked, snatching the key. He didn’t have time to make a portal, jumping over foot brute and flipping to the edge of the stage.

He looked out scanning the frenzied crowd for hints of color. There were flashes of orange, and explosions in purple. Red was everywhere, on the foots masks, being spilt on the ground, red, red, red, RED!

“Raphael!” He shouted his little brother bursting out of a dog pile, red projection wavering around him.

“Hi Leo!” He smiled, snaggletooth catching the light.

A foot soldier was running up behind him, like the leader was towards Leo. The foot leader grabbed hold of the key at the same moment Leo tried to jump after his brother. It was a split second decision, they key or his brother. It was ultimately the wrong decision but Leo would always choose his brother.

He let go of the key, jumping and landing inbetween Raph and his attacker. Their blade got parried to the side, and received a punch to the face for their effort.

“Raph what were you thinking!” Leo shouted, turning to his brother. Slashing out in the same moment to drive back their assailants.

“You needed help!” Raph shouted right back, little face screwed up in a furious expression, “We’re helping!”

“This isn’t helping!” Leo kicked a foot soldier, ribs cracking under the blow, “Helping would be staying home! I told you to stay at home!”

“You were doing something dangerous and you wanted me to stay home?!” Raph got pushed back by Leo as he manoeuvred the little turtle around deadly blows, “What if you got hurt?!”

“That doesn't matter!” Leo growled, sparing a moment to look Raph in the eyes, “It’s not about me!” 

“Yes it-” The ground shuddered, Leo pulled Raph in close, blue light arcing around him. 

Pink light flooded the place, drowning out the blue glow of his ninpo. Leo pressed Raph’s shell in tight against him. Eyes wide at the the creatures silhouetted by the light. The worlds doom.

“Tough guy you need to get going,” Leo said gently, grip on his sword tightening.

“What? I’m not leaving you!” Raph shouted, trembling. It made them stand out against the sea of foot soldiers bowing to their new masters.

“Raph please,” Leo begged, standing up instead of comforting his brother, stepping between him and the threat. 

Leo could see CJ off to the side looking at the Kraang stricken. April was with Mikey and Donnie, shielding the two with her bat. Leo was front and centre.

“Leo please,” Raph gripped onto his wrist, hand trembling. The Kraang were approaching. 

“Everything will be ok,” Leo looked back, smile strained at the edges, “You need to trust me alright?”

Raph didn’t answer, Leo shook him off. Swords drawn with the intent of being the only thing standing between the future and his brothers.  He aimed for a fleshy appendage, only for his blade to glance off. The pink tentacle apparently being made of something other than flesh and blood, closer to steel.

“Leo!” a little voice called, probably Mikey. Leo recognised that before he registered he was being thrown back, the pain of the blow coming seconds later.

“Stay here!” Was heard off to the side, “Aprrrillll O’ NEIL!”

A bat came down on the appendage reaching for him. Leo rolled to his feet as April defended him. He looked to the side, eyes locking with CJ. His eyes flicked to the key. Casey read him like they had been fighting side by side for years, apparently Leo dosent change in some regards. 

The future boy started sprinting after the key as Leo made portals to distract the Kraang. One here use their own tentacle to hit themselves. Another, under their ‘feet’  throw them off balance. Jump through that one, strike hard, strike fast, disappear again. Portal in front of April, protect her. He needs to make one for his brothers, wherever they are. Send them back home, away from this battle. But he can’t get a moment. Strike after strike comes he needs to stay on the move, focused on the two aliens while CJ tries to stop the third.

Where are his brothers. Where are his brothers. Where are-

“Like a boss!” Anywhere but there!

Raph came flying in, half formed projection around his fist. It made an impact but did nothing except make Leo’s heart beat three times as fast.

Raph got slammed right in the plastron by an appendage. Leo jumped catching and cushioning the other with his body.

“Leo!” His other little brothers called, voicing sounding closer.

“Stay there!” Leo barked, bodily pushing Raph behind himself.

“Do you care for them?” The head Kraang mocked, slithering closer purposefully slow and imposing, “Your compassion will be your undoing warrior, just like those before you, this thing you call love, is meaningless in the face of Kraang,”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Leo held his sword readying for a fight. Then he threw it hard and fast past the Kraang. “Casey now!”

The key was ripped from its hold at the same time the katana stuck into the ground next to the human. Casey jumped through the portal no hesitation, Leo remotely closing it right behind him.

“NO!” Kraang screeched as their self made fleshy portal slammed shut.

Leo took the opportunity, Raph tucked under one arm. He threw his next sword as he ran it wedged in the ground next to Mikey and Donnie. The two clinging to each other for dear life.

“Go now!” Leo yelled to break them out of their stupor. The Kraang attention snapping back to him. Mikey was the one to pull Donnie in, Leo closed the portal before the Kraang could give chase.

“You pest!” Leo managed to dodge around the strike, putting Raph on his protected side. 

With one hand he fished around in his med pouch. Keeping an eye on the Kraang as he jumped backwards towards April.

“Leo I can help!” Raph wriggled in his grip.

“Not now tough guy,” Leo breathed, fishing out one of his scalpels.

 It went from small knife to full blade in a flash of blue. Another one had a portal made and was redirecting a tentacle back at their attacker.

“April!” Leo called throwing the sword the rest of the way. It lodged into the ground next to his sister but she didn’t jump in.

“Leo hurry!” He was trying he was really trying.

 He gave up on looking back making a full sprint towards the portal door. He had almost made it, they were so close. Then a screech tore though his body. The kind of ear bleeding sound that sent you off balance.

Worse than the pain his portal flickered.

He could feel his ninpo like a candle flame. Barely there he sheltered it trying to keep it alight long enough. When April saw him make the last jump there she followed. Disappearing as his portal wavered at the edges.

Leo let himself fall forward focusing all his energy into keeping the door open just a second longer. A little bit more. Then he felt something pull him back. No, not him-

“Raph!” His brother was ripped out of his arms, spikes slicing along the length of it.

Leo twisted around as he fell watching terrified as the tentacle wrapped around his little brother pulled him back. To the sharp snarling smiles of their enemies that had killed him in another timeline.

He saw his own fear reflected back. Eyes rimmed with panic as Raph reached out. Desperate like the toddler who had slipped over on Leo’s I’ll advised ice skating trip when they were kids. Tears welling up in his eyes as a precuorser to a terrible sobbing cry. Leo tried to grab him back but he was a mile off. His hands met empty air as his vision filled with blue.

The candle within him flickered out.

#Yes... that would be... terrible #big bro leo #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #asks #asks welcome #I don't have a whole lot planned for this au #(I can't belive I made another au) #so now is the time to send in questions and ideas

[acapelladitty]

Firefly/Killer Moth - Emergence

Summary - Freshly escaped from Arkham, Drury meets up with an old friend for a new beginning. A lovely valentines gifts for the even lovelier @gethrax who deserves it! ❤️

Even now, hours after both men had started sinking back beers like they were going out of fashion, both Garfield and Drury were maintaining enough restraint to allow for the night to continue long after they were typically passed-out in drunken stupors.

Drury, his hands locked around the neck of the cheap, shitty beer which Garfield preferred, could feel the weariness in his bones as his fingers shook with the mild effort. His escape from Arkham had been a total mess; some damned Joker explosions allowing for those who were in transit between cells to slip away with just a little violence.

The guard he had left unconscious, Mills, wasn’t too bad of a guy. He didn’t have the same power trip as most of the guards and he was a bit more lenient with the blankets when it came to the colder Winter nights. Swigging from his beer, Drury privately hoped that he hadn’t been killed in the ensuing chaos.

Free of that shithole, his first instinct had been to find Garfield and crash with him until things were more settled. A familiar go-to plan which hadn’t failed him yet as he transitioned from his months behind bars. It was never too hard to find Garfield, he was a creature of habit and often haunted the same bars and shitty apartments in the same even more shitty parts of town.

Garfield Lynns.

Firefly.

Drury’s best friend - not that either man would ever vocalise such a thing. They had been very good friends for years now, both men coming up in Gotham at the same time and quickly finding out that real monsters, ones which both tactfully avoided where necessary, shared those same streets. Friends in the game were necessary and their camaraderie was good fortune and little more.

That said, Drury was a man comfortable in his own skin and with that comfort came an acknowledgement that his opinion of Garfield had long been muddied by an unspoken attraction which had planted itself in his mind long ago and never quite withered out.

Garfield was a strong man; his body thick and gnarled like an old tree and Drury had watched that strength in action many times during their time together as Garfield lifted things with an ease that made him envious. His skin was very rarely put on display but in those odd moments where he changed between clothing or was forced into the Arkham showers same as everyone else, Drury had observed him quietly. The scarring was expansive, almost all of Garfield’s skin being an angry shade of mottled red, but beneath the surface damage lay strong muscle and a broad chest that defied any imperfections.

“What’re you thinking about?” A gruff voice interrupted Drury’s thoughts and he startled.

“What?”

“You look like you’re thinking hard.” Garfield repeated, leaning back on his chair as he adjusted the cuff of his long-sleeve t-shirt.

“Nothing.” Drudy denied quickly. “Just planning what comes next.”

“Well, me case es tu casa until you get sorted. Least I could do.”

“Thanks, Gar. I ‘preciate it.”

Reclining in his own seat, Drury took a moment to glance around the apartment. It was as bare as could be, sad in its own way as there were no personalised touches to indicate that anyone lived there. Casting his gaze over to Garfield, he paused to admire the tight navy blue t-shirt and the dark, comfy pants which wrapped around his thick thighs and calves.

“What do you have coming up?” Drury asked. “Anything planned?”

Tilting his neck until a satisfying pop echoed through the room, Garfield shrugged.

“Got Cobblepot on the horn, asking for some ‘help’ with a little project he has coming up. Says that there are some buildings in need of a kiss from the flames.”

“And he thought you were the man for the job?” Drury chuckled, sarcasm lacing his tone. “I suppose I could see it.”

Expecting a matching chuckle in response but receiving nothing, Drury cast his eyes over to Garfield but frowned as he took in the almost pained expression which graced his features.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Skin feels tight.” Garfield grumbled, rolling his shoulders in position.

“Haven’t been keeping up with it like I should.”

“What do you need?”

“I need to keep up with the cream shit the docs gave me or it gets tight and itchy as hell. Makes it hard to focus, y’know?”

Drury winced at the thought, imagining the discomfort.

“Where do you need to go to get them?” He asked. "I could pic-"

“I have ‘em, I just haven’t been keeping up with putting them on. It’s hard to reach my back without help and it’s not like I have a line of babes waiting their turn.”

“I could do it.”

The offer slips free before Drury can truly think about what he’s saying and an immediate burn alights in his face as he realises the implications of the words. His gaze slips to Garfield with an almost apologetic look as he desperately attempts to reject the phantom sensation of finally getting to run his fingers along the scarred skin.

“Sure.” Garfield says slowly, a strange look crossing his face as he indicates the top drawer of a nearby sideboard. “Just be careful not to drop it. Costs a fucking bomb.”

Drury moves quickly, his heart hammering as an almost surreal sensation sits in his chest. The pot of cream is heavily in his hand as he plucks in free of the rickety drawer and he stands before Garfield with an awkward gait, unsure what to do next.

“So, how do you want to-” Drury trails off, allowing Garfield to set the moment.

With only a slight hesitation as his eyes sweep across Drury, Garfield pulls his long-sleeved t-shirt overhead and drops it in a messy pile to the floor. He moves rapidly, shifting his body from the chair to the corner of the bed in such a way that he can perch over the edge and allow Drury to stand behind him and apply the cream.

“This’ll be fine.” Garfield says, his words low and almost slurred.

Wordlessly, Drury approaches his from behind, drinking in the sight with an almost breathless intensity. Gnarled and pocked, the reddened skin held a texture which made his fingers itch to touch it and his hand shook slightly as he opened the pot of cream. The cream itself was cool and surprisingly thin in consistency and he held a glob of it on his fingers as he carefully placed the pot down on the bed.

The room is painfully silent, as though the air itself knows that some unspoken barrier is about to be breached, and Drury takes a short inhale as he rubs the cream between his hands to warm it up before laying the flats of his palms on Garfield’s back.

The heat is the first thing which he notices. Garfield’s skin is unbelievably warm and it sparks a heat in his own body as he considers how it would feel pressed against his own. Shaking his head to dispel the thoughts, he focuses on the task at hand as he runs his hands along Garfield’s back with a methodical precision to ensure that no area is left untouched by the cream.

“Feels nice.”

Garfield’s words are quiet, so quiet that Drury could choose to ignore them if he wished.

But no.

“I’m trying to be gentle.” He replies, the words coming out in a breathless rush.

“Don’t need to be gentle,” Garfield counters, “and ‘specially not with me.”

Taking the words at face value as his mouth goes dry, his hand presses roughly into Garfield skin, following the natural curve of his shoulder blade and Drury swears he feels his heart stop as a slight groan slips free of Garfield’s lips at the sensation.

“Gar?”

As things often do, everything seemed to happen in an instant.

One moment, Drury was still behind Garfield with his hands rolling across the scarred skin and in the time it took him to blink, he found his arm gripped by Garfield’s hands as he used his strength to pull Drury around to fall into his wide lap.

“Gar?!” Drury repeated, the name coming out a little higher than he would have liked.

However, any follow-up to the question was swiftly cut off by the feeling of Garfield’s lips on his own as Garfield pressed him for a gentle, almost questioning kiss. The taste of beer was strong in their mouths and Drury adjusted his body to something more comfortable as he kissed back with a force that surprised even himself.

Vague imagination and fantasy come to fruition, there was no way in hell that Drury was going to pass on the opportunity to finally taste the man who had haunted his thoughts for so many years.

It wasn’t a filthy kiss but it certainly wasn’t chaste either. There was a familiarity to it which made Drury’s heart leap in his chest as the chapped lips of Garfield held the strength and delicious texture which he associated with the other man.

Before too long, they broke apart and Drury met Garfield’s eyes as though seeing him properly for the first time that evening as Garfield opened his mouth.

“How long-”

“Too long.” Drury cut him off, having no interest in explaining his mild pining.

Reaching off to the side as his thick thighs flexed to hold Drury in place, Garfield picked up the remnants of his beer and inclined the neck of the bottle to Drury’s flushed face.

“Like a moth to the flame.”

Sinking the last of his drink, Garfield enjoyed the sting of the beer as it trickled across the scarred skin of his lower lip, the flesh there never quite healing due to its constant movement and overuse. He then dropped the empty bottle back to the floor as his arm returned to support the weight of Drury as he struggled to keep balance on his lap.

A defeated groan filled the air as Drury rubbed at his temple with the lower heel of his hand, tactfully avoiding getting the antiseptic cream over his face.

“Christ, Gar, don’t start with that shit.”

“Why not? Makes me laugh.” Garfield chuckled back, tilting his chest forward to press the wide expanse of his scarred skin against Drury’s t-shirt as he grunted in his ear. “It’s almost romantic in a way.”

“Mmm.” A hummed response as Drury once more went in for a soft kiss, greedily chasing this sudden development with a hidden smile as the reality proved to be much better than anything he had imagined.

A moth to the flame indeed.

#firefly #killer moth #firemoth #killerfly #ship name? #drury walker #garfield lynns

[queen-scribbles]

break, midnight, skin for Vikkari?

Ooooh, excellent questions for the Angel Boy >:3

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

Losing someone he cares about and was supposed to protect. (So Priya, Ember, Seelah she argues this, Etain in the AU with her, Lann he also argues this, Woljif, etc) Especially if he was in a position where he could or should have been able to help them but failed for whatever reason. :) Even if that reason is, like, magically being restrained and he couldn't do anything in the moment, he'll still feel like since he promised to protect them and was present, he should have found a way to keep his promise.

He would either go catatonic or highly focused rage of levels that put a barbarian to shame and he didn't know he had in him, it would depend on the circumstances, I think. Fortunately, that hasn't happened, so no one's seen him like that bc I think he would hide in shame if it was the rage side of the coin, and he'd have them really worried if it was the catatonic state.

(ALSO: the reveal about what... influence Areelu had on you was really hard for him, bc he's grown up being aasimar and thus special, so the "Divine Powers" were just one more thing that was Special. He's spent 15-odd years working on his pride problem, but it's still really easy for him to accept something about him being special/a goddess specifically blessing him bc of his childhood, so there was definitely a little brooding when it came out the powers were actually from demonic experimentation and soul manipulation :) Seelah and Arue talk him out of his funk)

midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

Prior to becoming Knight Commander, nothing really bothered him enough to keep him up at night. After… if he dwells too long on how many people he’s responsible for, or if there’s a report of something particularly awful happening in the territory the Crusade is protecting(demons or hellknights or bandits or slavers wipe out a village or caravan or whatever) the guilt will definitely keep him up.

When he’s up late like that he either goes and sits on the ramparts to look at the stars or whittles or both.

skin: How comfortable is your OC in their skin? Do they grapple with anything that lives inside them—a beast, a curse, a failure, a monster? How do they face the smallest, weakest, most horrible version of themself? Are they able to acknowledge it at all?

Vikkari is very comfortable in his skin, lol. Maybe too comfortable thanks to the childhood circumstances. 😅 He has done some grappling with pride issues bc of that, but nothing like a literal curse until finding out the source of his powers after the Abyss. 🙃 He keeps them—he’s too attached to Aivu, he’s using them for good regardless of where they came from—but there are times he wrestles with knowing the woman who made the Worldwound is the one who made him (currently) Special.

I don’t know if he has faced the smallest, weakest, most horrible version of himself yet tbh. He’s had to face down and work on some flaws, but I don’t think you could call it the weakest or most horrible or anything.

Not-So-Nice Asks

#not so nice asks #Vikkari damson

[aquietwritingcorner]

Title: Can’t Stay Awake       Day: Febuwhump 2023, Day 18: Can’t Stay Awake   Fandom:  TMNT 2003 Word Count: 2355   Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating:  K/G   Characters: Donatello, Leonardo, Raphael, Michelangelo, Splinter, Leatherhead Warning:     Summary: After being cured of his secondary mutation, Donatello just can’t seem to stay awake. It was understandable at first, but as his recovery stretches on and his need for sleep persists, his family can’t help but worry that something else is wrong. Fortunately, Leatherhead may have some answers.   Notes:  Occurs after the Good Genes Arc. Did I do five minutes of research on turtles and light, and the write this as I’m fighting staying awake myself? Yes, yes I did. Please pardon any inaccuracies. This is not my best work.   ff.net || AO3

_______________________________________

Can’t Stay Awake

It hadn’t concerned anyone too much when Donatello couldn’t stay awake on the helicopter ride home. He had been raging as that monster for days, refusing to eat or drink a majority of the time. Before that he had been sick. Changing back had to have taken a great toll on him, especially when combined with everything else. So when he tried but failed to keep himself awake as they flew back home, no one thought anything much about it. They were just thrilled to have him back with them.

No one even thought much about it when they got home, and he had trouble waking up or keeping himself awake long enough to get inside and to their medbay, where Leatherhead could monitor him. Don had basically been asleep on his feet, and Leo and Raph had supported him pretty much the whole way there. He had passed out almost immediately after they laid him down and slept through pretty much all of the tests that Leatherhead had run.

No one had even been too concerned when he slept for pretty much the whole next day. They hadn’t been too concerned when, after that, even though he was up for small periods of time, he had fallen asleep easily and quickly, often in bizarre places just because he was that tired.

But when it persisted after a week, they began to grow concerned.

“Where is Donatello?” Splinter looked at his other three sons, but none of them seemed to have an answer.

“I haven’t seen him since last night, Sensei,” Mikey said. “When he went to bed.”

“What time was that?” Splinter asked.

“Uhh… pretty early, actually,” he said. “Maybe… seven-thirty? Maybe eight?”

“Don never use’ta go to sleep that early,” Raph said, casting a worried look towards his brother’s bedroom door.

“I know,” Splinter said, worry in his voice.

“I knocked on his door this morning,” Leo said. “He responded, so I thought he was awake.”

Splinter hummed. “Leonardo, go get your brother.”

“Yes, Sensei.” Leo wasted no time in getting up and heading towards Don’s room, clearly just as worried as the rest of them.

The three remaining family members waited in silence, all of them listening to make sure that nothing was wrong. However, after a few minutes, Leo returned with Don in tow, and they all relaxed a little.

“Sorry, guys,” Don said, sheepishly. “I guess I fell back asleep.”

“We will discuss it later,” Splinter said. “For now, join your brothers in morning meditation.”

“Yes, Master Splinter,” Don said, and sat down with his brothers, settling between Mikey and Leo.

While meditation wasn’t Don’s strongest area, he was usually fairly decent at it, so long as he focused on it and not on the hundreds of projects and problems he was working on. He usually took it pretty seriously, even more so after the Triceriton invasion. So, when he slumped over onto Mikey, startling him out of his meditation, it was a bit surprising.

Mikey yelped, Don startled, and everyone else jumped up, only to see Mikey with his hands on Don, helping the sheepish turtle to sit up.

“Sorry,” Don, apologized again.

“Are you alright, Donatello?” Splinter asked him.

Don nodded. “Just… tired.”

Splinter nodded. “Perhaps some physical exercise will help to stimulate you. Leonardo. I want you to start with the basic katas I told you about yesterday. Help your brother through them.”

Don looked a little insulated. “Basic katas? But that’s stuff we learned when we were kids.”

Splinter leveled a look at him. “Nevertheless,” he said. “Your body had been through something horrific and traumatizing. We will build it back little by little and start with the basics. When I feel you are ready, you will move on.”

Don’s shoulders slumped slightly. “Yes, Master Splinter.”

“Come on, Don,” Leo said, clapping a hand on Don’s shoulder. “It won’t be that bad!”

“I guess not,” Don muttered, but allowed Leo to lead him away.

While Splinter worked Raphael and Michelangelo through more rigorous training and exercises, Leonardo led Donatello over to the side, where they started with some basic stretches and practice. It was more to loosen up than anything else, but it still allowed Leo to keep an eye on Don. He was still tired, of course, but aside from being a little tight in his stretches, physically he didn’t seem that bad off.

They finished the stretches rather quickly and then moved on to the very first kata they had learned as children. Don still knew the kata well, but his forms in it were not as crisp as they needed to be. Exhaustion seemed to pull at him as his arms sagged, and his stances were shaky. It was clear that Don was aware of it, and that it frustrated him. It was also clear that the more he did it, the worse it became. Don seemed to become more and more tired, more and more frustrated, until Leo wondered if they should stop. Don looked asleep on his feet and—

Leo leapt forward as Don stumbled, and practically fell down. “Don!”

At Leo’s call, the others stopped, hurrying over. Don was sitting up, Leo’s arms around him, and trying to wave off his family’s concern, but the exhaustion was just too much.

“M’sorry,” he said. “I’m just so tired.”

“That is enough for the day,” Splinter said, finally giving into his worry. “Leonardo, Raphael, take your brother to the medbay. Michelangelo, please call Leatherhead, and see if he will come. I fear that something is not right, and I want him to check Donatello over.

There were a series of acknowledgements, and then his sons moved, doing as he asked of them. Donatello mumbled out another exhausted “I’m sorry” as his brothers took him away. It was only when they were all out of sight that Splinter allowed himself a moment. They had saved his son from being that monster, but he worried it was not enough.

Leatherhead was quick to come over, Michelangelo going to get him so that some of his equipment could be brought back to their home. Once again, Leatherhead ran Donatello through a gambit of tests, although he did seem to add a few more that he hadn’t before. While they waited on the results and for Leatherhead to interpret them, everyone loitered in the medbay, wanting to keep an eye on Don as he slept. Fortunately, Leatherhead did not seem too bothered by having an audience watching over his shoulder as he interpreted the results of the test.

“Most things remain just as I told you before,” Leatherhead finally said. “His cells, while retaining some damage from the secondary mutation, seem to be settling in nicely with the cure. Its has gone into his DNA and turned off the genes that allowed for Donatello to experience the secondary mutation. Part of his tiredness is from his body adjusting to that.”

“But LH, it’s been, like, a week!” Mikey said. “Shouldn’t he be, I dunno, not falling asleep in his Wheaties every morning?”

“Yes, that is a concern,” Leatherhead said. “Which is why I ran a few additional tests.” He paused for a moment, using Don’s computer and an old projector to put the results of the test up on the wall. “When Donatello mutated for the second time, his body went through many changes. He grew in size, his shell changed shape, and he gained other features. When he was changed back, there were similar results, just in reverse.” He tapped a projection of Don’s shell. “How much do you know about the needs of turtles when it comes to growth?”

The three turtles looked at each other, as if trying to figure out where Leatherhead was going with this. Splinter was the one who spoke up. “They require heat and sunlight,” he said. “When my sons were young, I noticed that if I could get them into heat and sunlight, they faired better. They seemed to grow more and be healthier in general.”

Leatherhead nodded. “Yes. Turtles need sunlight to produce D3, which helps with bone and shell growth, as well as help in digesting food. Being mutants, the need in your sons would not have been as great, as the mutation would have reduced the need for that. But it was still good for them.”

“Is that why layin’ out at the farm feels so good?” Raph asked.

“Most likely,” Leatherhead said.

“But what does this have to do with Don falling asleep all of the time?” Leo asked.

Leatherhead turned back to his reports. “With the changes that happened in him, his entire body is having to restructure. You are feeding him the diet I recommended, correct?”

“Yes,” Splinter confirmed.

“And it is clear that he is getting adequate rest. Yet his body seems to be slow to recover and exhausted.” Leatherhead looked back to his friends. “It will not account for all of the exhaustion, but I think that what Donatello’s body is going through is similar to a period of rapid growth. However, to grow properly, he needs exposure to UVB light and sunlight. Exposure to that will not only bring him warmth, but allow for him to properly digest his food and help to build his shell and bones. When you combine that with the general trauma and Donatello’s previously unhealthy state, I believe this could account for his inability to stay awake. Put simply, his body is putting all of his energy into growth and recovery and trying to compensate for a lack of resources.” Leatherhead looked back at Donatello. “It is only a theory, you understand, but it the best theory I have.”

“Hm. It is one that makes sense,” Splinter said, bringing a paw to the end of his muzzle as he contemplated Leatherhead’s words.

“So whatda we do?” Raph asked, stepping forward. “We can’t exactly go layin’ around in the sun.”

“No, but… maybe we can bring the sun to him,” Leo said. “What about heat lamps?” he asked, turning to Leatherhead. “Would those make a difference?”

“You would need UVB lights, too, but it would be a start,” Leatherhead said.

“Wait!” Mikey snapped his finger. “Hang on, I think Don was talking about something like that before all of this. He was actually, uh,” he looked over at Leo. “He was actually thinking of way to help your shell heal faster and stronger.”

There was a beat of silence as no one quite knew what to say to that, but everyone knew that it was just so inherently Don that it made sense.

“Anyway,” Mikey continued. “He was working on some lamp or something up in the garage, I think.”

“He was!” Raph said. “I remember draggin’ him away from it a few times, because he wouldn’t rest.”

“Let me see them,” Leatherhead said.

It didn’t take long for Leatherhead to look over the lamps and pronounce them exactly what they needed. He had to make a few minor adjustments to them to finish them out, but it wasn’t long before he had two working UVB lights and the brothers were transporting them down to the infirmary.

“Will this work, Leatherhead?” Splinter asked as the other adjusted the lights over Donatello.

“Perhaps,” Leatherhead said. “It should allow for him to process food better, getting more nutrients from it, which will help. He will still need to rest a lot,” he said. “But hopefully this will help speed the process along.”

“Whether it does or not, we are grateful to you for your help,” Splinter said.

Leatherhead shook his head. “No, my friend. I am more than happy to help.”

With the lights on him, Don woke not too soon afterwards. The situation was explained to him, and he agreed to stay under the lights quite frequently. For the next week, they watched him closely, noting that he seemed to have more energy and a bigger appetite. He still napped frequently and tired out much quicker than before his second mutation, but it was an improvement.

Casey and April had been thrilled to see Don’s improvement as well. After learning that Don seemed to be out of danger and that sunlight was a major factor in allowing his body to recover naturally, a trip to the farmhouse was proposed and accepted.

For a few weeks, Don lounged about up there, laying or working in the sunshine as much as possible. His brothers often joined him, and slowly but surely, Don seemed to come back to himself, his progress outpacing what Leatherhead had predicted from the lamps alone. By the time they returned to the city, Don was nearly ready to hit the ground running, even if his brothers weren’t quite ready for that.

There was still the question of the lamps, though.

“What are you going to do with them?” Leo asked as he watched his brother move about the medbay.

“Keep them,” Don replied, looking for a good place to store them. “Even if we do get more sunlight now than we used to, it’s still not a bad thing to have lying around. Besides,” he glanced at Leo. “I want to see if this can help your shell heal.”

Leo shook his head. It was just like his brother to already be planning on how he could help his brothers. “I’m not so concerned about that,” Leo said, slinging an arm around Don’s shoulders. “I’m just glad that you’re feeling better.”

Don leaned into the arm a bit, and then playfully headbutted Leo. “Yeah, well, still. But thanks. I’m glad things are finally going to get back to normal.”

Leo grinned, but tightened his hold on Don, turning into a light headlock. “You say that now, little brother, but just wait until Mikey’s coming to you all the time with something he broke.”

As if on cue, there was a crash, and then Mikey’s voice going “..Oops,” and Don couldn’t help but laugh. Even if he was still a bit tired, he was more than glad for life to finally get back to normal.

#febuwhump #febuwhump 2023 #febuwhumpday18 #tmnt #tmnt 2003 #Donatello #Leatherhead

[ginger375]

LUtober

See the full collection on AO3.

Day 27: Bonfire

Hateno decided to hold a harvest festival once the Calamity was finally defeated. The first festival was a tiny affair; just the townsfolk gathering near the communal cooking pots and setting up a decent sized bonfire. People brought out baked goods and snacks to share, and a few others played some music.

Wild had attended with Zelda that year, it was her first real outing with other people and was the perfect sized crowd for a woman that had been locked away with a monster for a century. Wild had baked apple tarts, which were a huge hit amongst the townsfolk.

Then word had gotten out to the rest of Hyrule.

The second year saw more Hylians showing up, coming along in wagons with food and other wares to sell or trade. Some came from Lurelin with salted fish that would keep well over the winter, while others came from Kakariko with vegetables that would do the same. They set up along the main road and Hateno residents were thrilled to share their own harvests with their neighbours.

Zelda was much more at ease that year, Wild had been pleased to see. She even dragged him up for a dance or two around the bonfire, which lightened his heart as he spun and laughed with her.

“Thought you said this was a small festival, cub?”

And now, here he was with his brothers, where he warned them it was just a small event, only to see it had taken over the entire town.

“It used to be,” was all Wild could say to answer Twilight as he stood at the town gate, mouth hanging open in awe.

“This is so cool!” Wind exclaimed. Lanterns lined the street over stalls featuring everything Hyrule had to offer – Rito were there with down quilts and warm winter clothes; Gerudo had handmade jewelry and clothes; Gorons saw the opportunity to sell raw gems; Zora had ornaments carved from luminous stones; Hylians and Sheikah took care of the food.

“Let’s go drop our stuff off at home first,” Wild said as he led the group past the first few stalls. “Then you can all go nuts.”

“It all smells so good,” Sky said as he drifted towards a stall selling pumpkin pies. Warriors pulled him back to the group before he went too far.

Upon crossing the bridge leading to his house, Wild could tell Zelda wasn’t home. The lamps were out, but still warm, so she couldn’t be too far. Wild walked through the house, seeing if there were any clues to her whereabouts. So wrapped up in his search, he missed everyone dropping their stuff and running back out the door.

Twilight put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go find her, yeah?”

Upon getting down to the main thoroughfare the size of the festival was even more prevalent. Wild was stunned at the number of people.

“Any idea where she might be?” Twilight asked, looking at a table with bags of honey roasted chickaloo nuts.

“If I know her, she’s probably at the bonfire,” Wild said as he bought one for each of them. They continued up the street, munching their treat and taking peeks at the wares on display.

The closer they got to the bonfire, the easier it was to hear the music. And not just a couple random instruments; there was a full band this year and people were taking the opportunity to let loose and dance.

Wild looked around but couldn’t see any sign of Zelda. Maybe he was wrong and she wasn’t at the festival? Maybe the crowd was too much for her and she was hiding out at the lab up the hill? He thought perhaps he should head up the hill and check.

That is until he heard a voice scream “LINK!” The next thing Wild knew a body was running into him with enough force to knock him to the ground. Fortunately, he managed to save his bag of nuts from spilling.

“Where have you been?! You’ve been gone for months and I thought I’d have to dance alone tonight but now you’re here!” Zelda cried into his shoulder. He hugged her back and looked up to see Twilight trying not to laugh out loud but failing miserably.

“I’ll tell you everything once you let me up,” Wild laughed as Zelda climbed off him. He got up first and helped her to her feet, which swayed a bit once she was up. “Have you been drinking?”

“Pumpkin ale! It is delightful, you should have some!” she declared before turning to Twilight. “Who’re you?”

“I-I’m, uh… you see...” Twilight stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. Zelda walked right up into his personal space, looking up into his eyes as if he held the answers to the universe.

“Oh my word,” Zelda breathed as realization dawned on her face. “Are you really?”

“Uh, yes ma'am,” he said quietly.

Wild wrapped an arm around Zelda’s shoulders. “Leave him be for now, Zel. You can pick his brain later,” he leaned in to whisper in her ear, “along with the others.”

“There’s more?” she questioned as Wild nodded. “Alright, dance now, questions later. Let’s go!” She yanked Wild off to dance with her around the bonfire.

Twilight smiled fondly and shook his head. Their little group was in for a barrage of questions from the inquisitive princess, but for now, he deserved a pumpkin ale.

#lutober #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu wild #lu twilight #lu flora #harvest time #can’t have a harvest festival without a bonfire #ginger writes

[starsinshadows]

RPC Dev Tea Room ++ Winter Rush

Day 3 :: ice skating in the park when you see a figure sneaking off into the trees

     When Steve had gone from some popular jock kid without a care to being alert, aware of potential dangers in an environment and tired, he wasn't entirely sure, but he was willing to blame part of it on his 'babysitter' status and the rest on the very big change to his lifestyle that had come with the lycanthropy. Whatever it really was, it meant that the idea of the kids playing on the ice around the lake or even skating on it worried him more than he wanted to admit.      Somehow, he'd still agreed to take them and the afternoon had been a good time with no accidents involving children falling through the ice, there were two new snowmen standing guard by the lake edge, everyone had been pretty cold and drenched by the end of the day and there had been no more than 5 ice ball related snowball fight fouls. Steve himself had taken one of those particular hits to the shoulder and he wasn't sure exactly who had thrown it, considering he'd straightened up with a shout to try figuring out the culprit and immediately got hit in the face with another snowball - this time fortunately without the ice. He'd let it go with only a blanket warning to the group. No ice!      Yeah, like that worked. He was pretty sure Max packed one specifically for him right after, but he couldn't prove it and even Eddie had shouted from his spot on the other team when Steve got pelted with the thing. The bruise wouldn't last, but that had definitely been a great reason to call that particular game before someone ended up in the ER. Damn monster hunting kids were too ruthless for play fights.      Steve couldn't pretend that he wasn't worn out by the end and extremely grateful that there were parents picking up their respective kids, if only for the fact that his car was spared all of their wet clothes and the snow crusted boots that would have been dragged through the entire thing worse than they already did all winter. Theoretically, he could drive himself home and get a nice, hot shower before relaxing the rest of the night, and he should have been more tired, but he had about a week and a half before the next moon, so it felt nice to shed some excess energy. He wasn't sure how Eddie felt about it all, considering it sounded like the guy had been dragged into the day's activities by the combined efforts of Dustin, Mike and Lucas and it was probably more concentrated time outside than the guy had endured in at least a year, but he'd seemed to be high energy and spirits all day.      For not quite obvious reasons, Steve had actually been surprised by Eddie's presence. He'd seen the guy in school so he obviously knew Munson could come out during the day, but he hadn't been entirely sure and he still wasn't quite certain if the theory he and Robin had been cooking up had any merit. He knew Munson smelled off, that his body temperature didn't feel warm enough and that there was a scent of blood added onto his already confusing smell often. Vampire, Robin had guessed, and yeah, it seemed totally possible after fighting and being turned by werewolves, but Steve was still cautiously waiting to figure it out.      For that reason among others, he absolutely noticed that Eddie's van was still parked nearby and glanced around after shipping the last child off, apparently just in time to watch a dark figure disappear into the woods alongside the frozen lake that looked suspiciously like Eddie Munson. It was only natural to follow, and even on two legs, he was fast and quieter than was likely expected. It meant that he appeared about ten feet back from Eddie in time to watch a failed grab for a rabbit that darted away like a little furry rocket, and cleared his throat a little more loudly, just to be sure he was noticed before speaking.      "You, uh, need a hand?" he asked, making every effort possible to ignore the fact that Eddie had just taken a face full of more snow than even the kids had managed in the snowball fights that had broken out over the course of the day in a spectacular dive, and he wasn't so sure the bush that had been the rabbit's previous cover would survive any better than Munson's dignity.

@firelightfables​ can Eddie come out to play?

#⭐ steve harrington; interactions #firelightfables #⭐steve harrington || when the wolfsbane blooms and the autumn moon is bright [v. werewolf] #rpcdev

[aerisleis-fics]

2023 Writing in Review

I did an ao3 wrapped thing and mostly this is closer to the art wrapped where its one piece from each month. Some months don't have pieces (and that's okay.) I also kind of want to take a moment to reflect on what I hope to accomplish next year and what I (feel like I) accomplished this year. That'll all go at the end.

Total number of works posted this year topped out at 36 choosing one work for each month was hard as hell. But I tried to choose the one I was most proud of or felt like I did something that stretched my skill in. This feels long so under a cut it goes.

January-March: Nothing posted. Creative hibernation, if you will.

April: Nightmares and Horrors (RWBY) Speculative Post Volume 8 ending. Ruby wakes up alone in an unfamiliar world, wounded, tired, and terrified. It doesn't get a lot better from there.

May: Aligned Between Us (FFVII) Zack and Cloud finally have a real conversation about everything. Also featuring Tifa being a good friend!

June: Beginning Where We Ended (FFVII) Instead of waking up in the church after his (near) death at the hands of Sephiroth’s remnants, Cloud wakes up on the wasteland outside of Midgar over two years before. Zack faces down Shinra’s infantry, and Cloud finds he has the strength to change history.

But to do that, Cloud has to face it all again, while warring with his own splintered psyche. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to do it alone, if only he’d remember that.

July: Moments of Peace (FFVII) Quick meeting with Reeve of the WRO and Tseng of the Turks, and then the Boys have a Night in the Costa Del Sol home before the rest of their trip.

August: Unrealistic Expectations (FFXV) After nearly failing the trial of the Tidemother, Noctis stands precariously balanced between his duty, his emotions, and his body’s need for rest. The Prince fails to heed Lunafreya’s warning about taking it easy, and his friends find the hard way that Noctis hasn’t been truthful with them.

September: What Makes a Monster (FFVII) With only hours separating Zack from the massacre of Nibelheim, he does the best he can to stop it from happening.

October: Saving the Hero (FFVII) A pair of scenes centering in on Sephiroth saving Zack, and Zack - in his own way - saving Sephiroth in return.

November: Recordings for Sleeping (FFVII) At first it had been disheartening - was he that boring to talk to? But over time, Zack had come to understand that it wasn’t that it was boring. It was that Sephiroth had come to associate Zack talking with a sense of peace and the fact that things were okay, so he could relax - and, subsequently, could rest. It was incredibly touching, now that Zack understood it better.

December: Pause, Rewind, Restart (FFVII) Cloud and Marlene are visiting the church when they find themselves pulled backward into the past. With no way back home, Cloud sets himself to doing the best he can to make sure that this future goes better than the one they came from because he can't just do nothing.

Reflections

This year was kind of wild, I ended up absolutely hip deep in a fandom I have loved for a really long time but avoided for a number of reasons. And I didn't just wade in slowly, no I dove right in and I'll admit I'm kind of having the time of my life. As can... probably seen by the sheer number of fics for that specific fandom that I've posted. I crossed the 75 fic marker this year! And I'm so close to the 100 fic marker that I'm vibrating. It feels big it feels like I've accomplished something.

In the new year I want to get better at interacting on my social media again. I want to post snippets and thoughts and ideas rather than just appearing for long enough to like. Drop the newest fic and disappearing into the void. I also, of course, look forward to writing (and finishing!) more projects. I've still got a lot sitting in wip land that I look forward to sharing with everyone.

I don't know what 2023 will hold but I'm thankful for all the support so far and I look forward to seeing where it brings me next year.

#my writing #writing in review #2022 in review #ffvii #rwby #ffxv

[mrfancyfoot]

Astarion x Evie (f!humanOC) | Rating: E/varied | WIP | AO3 Chapter 1

Chapter 35 of Patchwork is up!

Thank-you for reading <3

Rating: M-ish / SFW-ish Word Count: ~1.9k Chapter Warnings: Minor character death (non-graphic), Angst

In which Astarion is forced to share his past.

‘-In the night came the killers with the cross…-’

“This is Powerwolf - one of the OGs of melodic powermetal!  Actually, they have a song about vampires.”  Astarion perked to that but her attention was suddenly diverted elsewhere.  She picked up the quiet crunch of measured, booted steps in the dirt from a near distance.  “There’s someone ahead.”  As Evie said the words, she caught sight of a man.

Astarion eyed where the path was forking.  “We should avoi-”

“Too late, he’s seen us.  Act natural,” she quickly said and adjusted herself into a relaxed, open posture as they halted.  “Well met!” she called out in a greeting that still made her feel out of place and time.  Best to just be friendly and be on their way.  As the man approached, a strong smell hit her nose and she flinched.

"Well met, strangers!” he readily replied.  “Ah!  Forgive the aroma.  Powdered ironvine.  Monsters will think twice before making a meal of me.  An old hunter's trick - if you can’t mask your scent, spoil it."

To her surprise, Astarion casually stepped around her, his posture stiff with an unease.  "You're a monster hunter?  I'm surprised - I thought all Gur were vagrant cutthroats."  Some sort of recognition, then.

"And more-”

.

.

Evie was happy to let Astarion take lead as he seemed keen on doing - he wasn’t immediately calling to kill the other man, anyway.  She focused on listening to what was said - and unsaid - in the exchange.  

The Gur appeared relaxed - more so than many would be in a place like this - which spoke to his experience and confidence.  And their fortune.  He wasn’t suspicious of the man next to her being the same Astarion that he was hunting because his experience was telling him that a vampire couldn’t be walking around in the daylight.

But Astarion was being defensive and slightly cagey.  What truth was there in the words of the Gur?

.

.

"-We should do something about this threat."  It seemed Astarion had heard enough to make a conclusion and she easily caught the hidden meaning in his words.

Evie grimaced.  Her poker face had failed when the Gur had mentioned Astarion's name.  His eyes had trained on her and his elaboration had been to garner sympathy from her so that she'd spill what she knew.  She’d need to grill Astarion on the situation herself, but now wasn't the time.  This Gur was only going to keep coming after them unless they did something.

"I'm sorry.  You seem like a fine guy and I wish we hadn't met under these circumstances."  She gave a goodbye wave to distract from her hand at her hip.

But Astarion caught the cue and was quicker on the draw, cutting down the Gur before the man hardly knew what was happening.  She felt awful but it was going to come down to one or the other eventually and this was one of those scenarios where life wasn't fair enough to give her all of the information up front and dragging it out only increased risk.

"You're such a bleeding heart, dear.  But I owe you an explanation after all that."

"Oh, most definitely,” she emphatically agreed.  “We should deal with his body maybe first though.”  Astarion looked around and positioned himself to move the body.  She made a sound at the back of her throat and he paused, looking to her.  “Have you learned nothing from me?  We go through his pockets first.”  She tried to keep a straight face but was failing.

His blank confusion morphed into a grin.  “Ah, yes, how could I forget?  The looting of the corpse for any goodies!”

“In case he has information about any others that may be out here or coming after you,” Evie rebutted.  “Though that crossbow looks pretty nice.”  She knelt and turned out his satchel, scrunching her face.  “Eugh, can’t stay close for long, though, or we’ll end up smelling like him.”

“Yes, that would be tragic.”  From his face, she doubted the Gur would be making Astarion’s meal plans.

No information and, honestly, not a whole lot on the guy.  She cringed as Astarion kicked him over into a ditch where his body would be hidden by overgrowth.

She backed up to lean against a rocky outcropping and placed her hands on her hips.  “Okay, Mister Vampire-Spawn-Named-Astarion, start talking.  What’s your piece?”  Evie realised she just gave him a lot of time to think on how he’d spin his own story.  She trusted him to give her at least part of the truth.

“Not how I pictured having this…discussion.”   He slowly walked towards her, his eyes flitting between her, the ground, and some unseen spot in the distance, and stopped a few feet away - a safe distance.  Evie wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him so uneasy before and it made her want to tell him that he didn’t have to share anything, but she bit her tongue.  She had to look out for herself, too.

“I’ve had run-ins with Gur before," he hesitantly began.  "None of them pleasant.  And there will probably be more sent after me.  My past isn’t exactly a happy story.”  He turned and paced a few steps, then turned again and walked back.  “The mindflayers weren’t my first kidnapping.  Nearly two hundred years ago, I crossed Cazador Szarr - a powerful vampire lord in Baldur’s Gate.  The patriarch of his coven and a monster obsessed with power, with controlling people completely.  He captured and turned me.  I became his spawn and he became my tormentor.”

In a corner of her mind, she knew roughly how vampires were created, either willingly or unwillingly.  It didn’t surprise her that Astarion fell into the latter category just based on how he acted - like he’d been released from something and was constantly looking over his shoulder.  “So, what’s a spawn here- like…a slave?” 

“A vampire spawn is less than a slave.  They’re a puppet.  We have no choice but to obey our masters’ commands.  They speak and we’re forced to react - it’s all part of the deal.”  He looked away.  “Sometimes he’d order us to submit to torture.  Sometimes he’d have us torture ourselves.  However his whim of the moment decreed.”  There was a haunted, faraway look in his eyes and she didn’t want to even imagine what he’d been forced to do, what was undoubtedly going through his mind right now.  Two-hundred years of abuse and never knowing choice or autonomy…  It made her own past seem…quite mild.

He straightened, a renewed determination and resolve pulling him back into the moment as he met her eyes.  “But this tadpole has been a gift.  It broke his hold of me.  It gave me strength to take my own freedom.  I’ll never have to grovel to him again.”  His hands rose as though to reach for her but he seemed to catch himself and pulled away, “Don’t you dare start crying!”

She’d felt the urge building with her empathy and was evidently failing to hide it as she fought it back.  She sniffled but managed to keep her voice steady, "I'm sorry- No-one deserves that kind of existence, Astarion.  But this has given you a blank slate!  You can be better than what he made you be!”

“Exactly!” he beamed.  “I can be better than him.  Stronger.  More powerful.”  She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped as he misinterpreted her words.  “More-  Oh, you meant like ‘be kinder’ and ‘gentler’ and all that?  Frolic with puppies, that sort of thing?  I have no objection to being nice, of course.”  Grinning with self-satisfaction, he added, “Once I have the power to bend others to my will.”

His response would be comical if his words weren’t such clear flags of deep trauma.  She could practically hear her therapist clawing at the aether between planes.  "I get wanting to be stronger than him, but…wanting to bend others to your will is just perpetuating that cycle.  And you can be better than that!"  But that was a whole other conversation that she was not mentally prepared to sit down with herself in this moment.  She shook her head.  "We can address that later.  You’re free now and that matters.”

He didn’t seem so sure, losing his prior burst of confidence, “Does it?  What good is freedom if I’m always watching the shadows?  No, I’ll be safe when I’m powerful enough to grind Cazador into the dust.  Powerful enough to do whatever the hell I want!"

He was free but not truly free…and wouldn't be until this Cazador was completely out of the picture.  To him, getting rid of the tadpole meant returning to that horrific life.  He was still living in fear.

Evie squared her shoulders.  “What do you need?  How can I help?”

He blinked at her in surprise.  Had he still thought she wouldn’t help him?  They had their differences and frequently argued, but one of his chief complaints was how she was always trying to be too helpful.  His tone changed dramatically then and she got the impression that this was something he’d already put thought into and maybe even rehearsed, “You’re such a sweet thing to offer.  We need to be stronger to take on Cazador - and anything else that may be hunting us.  I’m embracing this new power we’ve been gifted - you should, too.”

“I can’t do that without knowing more about it.”  She held a hand up when he started to interrupt her.  “I’m all for risky magic but this is beyond that and so far, no-one knows exactly what these slugs, tadpoles, whatever, really are or what their purpose is.  If that changes, I may be more open-minded.  And if you’re ‘embracing it’ and don’t, y’know, turn into a mindflayer any faster, that’s…encouraging.”  She self-consciously ran her fingers along the brim of her hat.  “I’m still playing catch-up anyway.  My brain’s kind of the only thing I have going for me.”

Now, more than ever, she still wasn’t sure why she seemed to be the one Astarion was latching onto.  Anyone else in their group was far more capable than she was…at just about everything.  But maybe that wasn’t the actual drive behind it.  After two-hundred years of being controlled by Cazador, what he really needed was people he could trust and she liked to think that they had become friends in the time they had been together.

“Just…know what we may be up against,” he sighed and set his hands on his hips.  “The mindflayers aren’t the only monsters out there.  And they might not be the only ones hunting us.  Keep your eyes open, darling.”  His eyes drifted back up the path as he shuffled restlessly from foot to foot.

Evie sensed that this conversation was over.  He had conveniently left out mentioning anything that the Gur had brought up re: kidnapping children, but she didn’t have it in her to dig back into that at the moment.  That would have been from the time he was still under Cazador’s control and, while its own problem, she couldn’t find herself able to blame him for actions he was compelled to do.

Pushing herself off the rocks, she waited for him to take the cue to start walking again.  “We got this,” she assured.

#baldur's gate 3 fanfic #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x OC #patchwork plots #mrfancyfoot

[alienorstyx]

A bouquet of roses

Precedent chapter: 6

Act 3: The bells rang twelve times

  December 24th 1949

1

A grey smoke came out of the chimney of the little train, it was one of those old steam locomotives that were not used much anymore, as we preferred the diesel model, faster and more reliable. But also they had a more modern aesthetic compared to this old rusty scrap pile that sometimes struggled to advance. The war had not been easy for him. Yet it was the only train available to cross the German moors lands. As all of the more modern trains had been requisitioned either for war or for the acceleration of the Final Solution. So, when the time had come to put this locomotive back on the tracks, there was no time left for a makeover, and so we wondered how it could still hold on to the tracks. The falling snow did not help the adhesion of the old machine, which with difficulty tried to stay on the road. Normally, this illustrious train would not have be needed to leave in such a weather, and we would have preferred to delay the delivery, alas it was an order of the Third Reich in person. And with anguish the railwaymen put him to work, under the gaze of the Wehrmacht soldiers, hoping that the old loco would like to start. Fortunately, this was the case, and since it crisscrosses the valleys,and at every turn the railway workers prayed to their Lord for his grace. Every kilometer they went, they got closer to the terminus and the sooner they could get off this infernal train the sooner they would be safe. In the meantime, they pushed each of its cogs to their limits, in the distance you could hear its breath gasping, its cogs jumping at every turn, its brakes failing to release at any moment. Inside the panic was at its peak, everyone pushing in all directions, a real mess. An unexplained panic while everything was so quiet outside. The soldiers were making fun of this commotion. Some soldiers had opened crates filled with seized wine. The caps jumped and the alcohol flowed freely.

France heard this spectacle, although she could not see it. She could easily imagine it. If they're drunk enough, I might be able to escape. I have to remove these damn cords first.

The position in which the young woman found herself was far from comfortable. Her body was folded in a chest. The box being neither very high nor wide, France found herself in difficulty to make the slightest movement. Her knees were touching the top of the chest just as her feet were bent against the upper part, it had hurt her at first, but now she felt almost nothing except a few tingling. Her head was just below the level of the heavy wooden lid. While her shoulders touched both sides of the box. Each of her movements gave her fractions of pain, which made her moan of pain. Her complaining whispers were cut off by the cloth covering her mouth. By making these few movements, she was trying to recover the dagger that was in the pocket of her nightgown. Before leaving, France had discreetly slipped it in the pocket. That evening, she hesitated to plant it in the back of her monstrous husband's skull, yet she changed her mind, fearing for her daughter's safety. Realizing a few seconds later that this bastard had not come alone, two big men, probably some SS, were waiting for them on the doorstep. Yes, if she had killed him that night. Her darling little daughter would probably have been kidnapped or worse. They would have made her the face of this bloody, despicable regime and stained her with their cruelty. She would have become a monster. Yet, by disappearing, would the result not be the same? Would they not corrupt her, if she were no longer there to protect her poor daughter? She had failed before, to protect her little boy. And East must now be hating her, perhaps even more than her father. She could have, should have, thrown herself at her husband as he was about to strike their son. Taking his life so cruelly. Yet she did nothing. She let him do it. Her only thought was not for her son, but for her daughter, hoping that she would get away from all that monstrosity, and that she would be finally free. Yet she, her darling little daughter, had returned that night. But that disastrous evening, she had great difficulty holding back her anger against her own daughter. To contain, the words she wanted to yell at her. "WHY DIDN'T YOU LEAVE!! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN FREE!" Yet these words were addressed to her own guilt as an unworthy mother, a woman too weak to act and too terrified to do so. Why didn't she leave earlier? She could have saved them both! Now it was too late. It was over. After her son's funeral, she felt guilty, of feeling relieved not to see him anymore. It tormented her. As he looked so much like his father. More innocent, more cheerful, more loving. Yet he looked like this monster. She hated him for it. And she loved him because he was her son, an innocent child who had asked for none of this to happen. But now he was dead. And she'll never see him smile again.

Higher up, the white clouds covered the sky with a thick mantle. As the locomotive continued its way towards a doom fate. One could see through its windows, a landscape that seemed to come out of a postcard, the snow began to cover the plains, the few green grasses that remained formed a Swiss cheese. We could see some grey mice running at full speed in these small green holes, desperately scratching the ground hardened by frost. Not realizing the danger hovering over their grey heads. A hawk pitched. Taking one of these daring mice into his claws, while the others fled into the snow, scattering on several meters away.

Just like the inhabitants of the train, who heard only too late the high whistle of the missile hitting the old train. The explosion was brutal, stopping the crazy run of the locomotive. The sound and breath of the explosion sounded for about ten kilometers. The mice fled in the other direction, and the hawk unexpectedly dropped his dinner. For a few minutes, all the animals moved away from the area. Then it was an atrocious silence. It seemed to last for hours. Everyone watched for the slightest noise. The front of the train began to burn, followed by the first car. After the shock, cries were heard, breaking this terrible silence.

An individual man stumbled out of one of the train windows. From afar, the poor machine was completely overturned on its left side, completely distorted and caught in flames. Pieces of metal and irons lying down in the snowy fields. It was a pitiful spectacle. The survivor drew what appeared to be a heavy brown crate. His face was covered in blood, little pieces of glass were scattered all over his body. He had a rough face. He tried to blow the padlock with his pistol, a Walther P38. The second bullet was the right one. It sounded at the same time that another survivor was struggling to get out of his cabin. The one who we'll be calling to as the brute, opened the lid of the chest. Joyfully discovering the beautiful gift there. A young woman, whose mouth was covered with a red cloth.

The bully quickly observed France, who was wearing a pale pink nightie, from the neck to the knees. On the edges, there was English lace in the shape of small flowers. More creamy. The long winter nightie floated due to the wind. While the brute detached the prisoner's hands and feet.

Who is he? An ally? An enemy? A sadist? I have heard rumors of people being forced to walk in the snow until they die. That Nazi dog could do that.

The thread of her thoughts was interrupted by the contact of a cold metal against her forehead. Shyly, she looked up, hoping deep in her heart not to see the barrel of a gun pointed at her. Yet it would have been too beautiful, too surreal. In such a context, a defenseless woman facing a Nazi  could not end otherwise.

Suddenly, the soldier dropped her to the ground. He smiled, seeing her moaning in pain. The contact with the ground was not soft, the snow was as hard as a rock. France felt her teeth tense on the impact. She did not want to cry in front of this stranger. Her gaze met the eyes of that beast, she could read there all his ecstasy, he had when he hurt her. That he was going to continue. Her body stiffened. While in her head, France shouted, "GET UP! GET UP!! DON'T BE A VICTIM!". Yet her body no longer seemed to obey her thoughts. She felt like a porcelain doll that could be dressed, played with, mistreated at will. And it didn't matter that her arms were missing, that one of her eyes was in a thousand pieces, that there were holes in her beautiful hair. She was just a doll. An object of desire to which one could make everything, making her suffer infernal torture one after the other and she would always smile at the end. Because by the time her smile disappears, she will be useless. She will be guillotined. And Hop no more unhappy faces, as we can always sew a smile on her.

The brute tore her nightgown in one shot, revealing to the whole world the wounded body of France, on her breasts traces of bites barely healed, her nipples were hard because of the cold. Her belly showed traces of stretch marks from her delivery and the many miscarriages that followed. You could see traces of blue on her thighs, but also long lines still blushing, which were the work of a whip. Her private parts were covered with a simple white panty, protecting them from the surrounding cold and the sight of this brute.

Unfortunately, this spectacle excited the awful soldier who threw himself on her. Dropping his pistol next to him. He directly attacked his victim's fine neck, biting it. It made him even crazier to feel her shaking in fear at every move. He felt the metallic taste of blood on his lips, which made him smile. The bully glanced at his victim, for his greatest dissatisfaction her beautiful eyes looked at the sky. To remedy this, the brute strongly pinched her right nipple. Nothing. Not a noise, not a tremor. He tried to get up but a sharp pain burst into his chest. By reflex, the brute carried his hand. It was hot. A liquid was flowing. Yet, he didn't carry anything liquid on him. The smell of blood marked him. That little bitch, she got me. Shit, I should have checked her ...

He watched her escape from under his powerful body. The brute no longer had the strength to stop her or he would have already blown her head off with his Walther P38. The wound being rather wide, in a few minutes all it would remain on this ground, would be a frozen corpse.

While the soldier was dying on the ground, his victim stumbled into the field, still holding the murder weapon in her left hand. The magnificent bloody dagger shone with an evil luster, as the blood beaded on the blade, staining the snow with immaculate white.

2

Report of 25 December 1949

Secret Defense.

The bombing took place on a moving target, an old locomotive, as confirmed by our intelligence , several high dignitaries of the Nazi regime, had been found on it. The individuals were confirmed dead last night. We've heard a rumor that might interest you about the woman F., wanted by English services. A number of soldiers talked about a special delivery. And a particular box. We found the empty box. A prisoner told us that the corporal who was found dead next to the box, he had opened it. And he would have tried to do something on the woman but she struggled against him and he must have died of his wounds. An hemorrhage. Research was done this morning with the dogs. A long piece of tissue was found, it was  pink with brown spots (probably blood).

Should we run some tests?

There is no more footprints, everything has been covered by snow. The survival rate is very low. A small team was sent with dogs. We await for your orders.

The rest of the report concluded on the various discoveries made  in the rubble of the locomotive, including boxes filled with works of art stolen from Jewish families and museums. America put the letter in the pocket of his cotton jacket, he will give orders in the day for the prosecution of this case, but before that, he needs to speak with the United Kingdom. It should be done while the little girl is busy,  to avoid her hearing the conversation. As they shouldn't give her false hope.

#countryhumans #Fanficcountryhumans #fanfic #countryhumansfrance #countryhumans united kingdom #A bouquet of roses

[percontaion-points]

TVD chapters 14 & 15

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 14

If anyone asked Benedikt Montagov the one thing he wanted out of life, he had a very simple answer: to paint the perfect sphere. Ask anyone else in the White Flowers and there would be an array of responses. Fortune, love, vengeance—all of these and more, Benedikt wanted too. But they faded into the background when he was painting, thinking of nothing save the movement in his wrist and the arc of his paintbrush, a task so careful, so tedious, so beautiful. 

So I have a speech for this. If you’ve been around the blog often enough, you’ve probably seen it before.

But under any circumstances but the circumstances presented in this book, this would be interesting character development. 

However, this is the book that we have. Where after every line of dialogue, the narration screeches to a halt to tell us that the character was eating a sandwich and how many fucking seeds were on the crust and how many flakes of tuna were in each bite, and how many times that the character chewed. And it’s only after this that the author somehow remembers that there’s plot to be had, and mosies on back to it. 

So circumstances for if I enjoy reading certain things depend on the rest of the story. Something that I wouldn’t even think twice about in literally any other book ends up being yet another mark of pointless prattle that continues to bog the actual plot down in THIS book. 

The elderly woman’s fingers tightened until Kathleen could no longer feel her circulation within her palm. “Please,” the woman whispered. “Protect us.”

Chapter 14 summary: Hope you weren’t actually expecting to see some actual plot in the first part of this chapter. Because it’s literally Ben and Marshall at their own home being like “this city’s gone to shit.” Aside from not contributing anything to the plot in this book’s usual fashion, it also goes on for too long. (And again, I’m normally in favor of letting characters exist outside of the plot, but holy fucking shit. We’re 130 pages into a 400 page story. Stop.)

They go out to try and find a living victim of one of the madness attacks, but they find it to be a wild goose chase. Which, again, I don’t mind the narration showing them trying and failing. What I mind is that this was yet another two pages of padding that could have been spent on literally anything else. 

Then the author suddenly remembered that she has to get back to the actual plot. After six pages of padding. We jump over to Kathleen, who is having about as much luck talking to the bankers as the boys are finding a living victim. Some more padding is sprinkled in to talk about the banking district and Kathleen’s search up until this point…

And then a random old woman comes over to Kathleen to tell her that she saw the monster. That she was leaving a bank with her son, who had gone to fetch them a rickshaw to get home. As she was waiting, she saw a thing come out from the water. A fisherman tried to shoot at the thing. Then it disappeared. The woman sent her son to go look around for it, but of course it was gone. Although she did say that there was a man randomly in the water, and Kathleen has no idea how the man survived such a thing. 

The woman asks if Kathleen is from the Scarlets, and begs her to keep everybody in the city safe. 

Chapter 15

“That’s not a necklace, is it?” 

“It is not, Bàba.” 

“That’s garrote wire, isn’t it?” 

“Indeed it is, Bàba.” 

“How many other weapons have you concealed on yourself?” 

“Five, Bàba.” 

Lord Cai pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, “Wǒde māyā, have mercy on my soul.”

You don’t get to raise your daughter up as the heir to your gang empire and then somehow be disappointed when she goes to a party with concealed weapons. 

The Larkspur. Juliette’s tapping fingers halted midmovement. Lā-gespu. Larkspur. That was what the old man in Chenghuangmiao had been trying to say. Hearing one lunatic scream about a mysterious cure, claiming he had received a cure for the madness, was unworthy of notice. Hearing that same mysterious cure mentioned twice in a few days was strange.

There has been so much goddamned padding in this that I literally forgot about the madman on the bridge Juliette encountered. 

They dropped—Scarlets and merchants and foreigners alike. Those who had not been infected attempted to run. Some made it out the gates. Some succumbed as soon as they skidded onto the pavement outside the gardens, the madness kicking in with delay. Juliette’s lungs were tight again. Why was it spreading so damn fast?

Literally the only thing keeping Juliette, Roma, Tyler, etc etc alive in this scene is simply because they’re named characters. 

“One meeting,” Juliette repeated, as if his hearing had been the problem. She wiped the blood off her face. “That’s all I can promise you.”

Chapter 15 summary: Juliette and her STILL UNNAMED father go to the party. There’s this really long scene where they listen to some foreigners complaining about Shanghai and Juliette chewing them out, and then daddy chewing Juliette out over how “rude” she was. But like… It’s so fucking tedious and takes away from the actual plot, so I’m pissed off at that scene, too.

Anyway, she tries to get away from the drug dealer’s son, Paul, but the dude catches up to her and then refuses to accept that she’d probably rather chew her own arm off than talk to him for a second longer. He’s not even interested in drugs, he’s only interested in her simply because of the power she holds. He doesn’t even seem attracted to her as a person, but only because he seems to think her “exiotic”. Gross. 

Roma saves her from having to slap a bitch, and the two of them dance simply because it’s necessary. As they’re doing this, Roma begs for the Scarlets to work with the White Flowers simply to get to the bottom of this. Juliette refuses. This goes on for a while.

Tyler shows up then and points a gun at Roma, screaming about how he’s a Flower. But Roma is wearing a mask AND a wig, and Juliette can say “he’s only some Frenchman. Please don’t make a fucking scene.” But then Ben and Marshall show up and it’s weird. 

However, before this can become a gang war, a woman collapses due to the madness, and then that triggers so many other people to succumb to it as well. Juliette tries to stop some random dude from clawing his throat out, but Roma kills the dude, and warns Juliette of how it seems to spread. 

Juliette then agrees to have a meeting with him about this. 

#These Violent Delights series #These Violent Delights (TVD 1) #chapter 14 #chapter 15 #Nobody fucking cares #I would ask where the editor was but I think we all know there was none #random background characters are random #i don't care anymore #Juliette Cai #so much padding #bad writing is bad

[ask-hauyne-and-orion]

If you both are still accepting color asks, buttermilk, fog, onyx, and midnight

Buttermilk Orion: No preference for either. I'm not particularly fond of sweet foods. Hauyne: Pancakes. Especially if it has chocolate chips in it.

Fog Orion: For me, it was during the League's crusade against Team Meteor. When I first learned of their original mission of protecting Reborn's history and culture from being lost to time, I had a lot of doubts about whether I had been doing the right thing. I had mulled it over many times on sleepless nights, and for a while it even impacted my ability to battle effectively. It wasn't until I shared my doubts with my comrades and listened to their thoughts did I rebuild my resolve to fight... because it didn't matter what their original goal was, in the end.

They were terrorists; committing acts of terrorism in the name of some noble cause justifies nothing, only inflicting more pain and misery onto the c. They had unknowingly become a threat to the land they were supposed to protect, because they were so blinded that they've let the real enemies - the monsters-in-human-skin who only cared about themselves - manipulate them for their own selfish gains. In the end, they had to be stopped for Reborn to finally be restored to glory. Hauyne: Plenty, especially when you're the Interceptor who knows how things are going to turn out because you've seen them countless times before. However, I think my most profound experience in regards to this topic would be when I thought about telling everyone the truth: about my true origins, that I knew about them and their fates... because I had played witness to them - multiple times - through the detached lens of a game.

The emotions I felt back then... it went beyond mere terror; it was a grotesque amalgamation of a myriad of confusing emotions. It was more than enough for me to keep on delaying the inevitable, out of a deep-seated fear of rejection, until I could no longer play the fool... and, like a coward, I ran away from them instead of facing it head-on. I had never felt so much regret, fear and confusion up until that point. It had been my partner Pokemon, Kali, who had helped me brave through it all. With her encouragement and advice, I was able to muster up the courage to return and spill the truth no matter what.

I was very fortunate that my friends ended up forgiving me for keeping this from them for so long. Regardless, it had been a powerful memory to me.

Onyx Orion: It's weird... but I often have nightmares about Team Meteor winning. The nightmares always play out the same way: me never coming to Reborn, Fern taking my place as the "hero", him jfighting against Team Meteor with nearly the entire League... but no matter what they did, they failed, and Reborn fell into ruin. Just as all hope seemed lost, a shooting star - the brightest one I've ever seen - streaked across the night sky, engulfing everything in brilliant white light; next thing I knew, I was reliving the train ride to Reborn. Come to think of it, it was pretty much word-for-word with what that fortune teller told me...

Hauyne: I'll pass. This is too personal.

Midnight Orion: I like to think of myself as a morning person. What’s not to like about rising together with the sun? Hauyne: I prefer the night. It’s calm and quiet, the perfect time to reflect on everything that’s happened thus far. 

#askorion #askhauyne #pokemon reborn #pokemon rejuvenation #rp askblogs #original characters #oc roleplay #reborn rp #rejuv rp