#sorry for drawing for so many fandoms you guys must be tired

[ellenchain]

I was trying to think of a good caption, something dramatic, but all I could think of when I was drawing was Nurse Crane's voice screaming for Dr Reid:

"DOCTOR? DOCTOR REID? Here's a man who claims to have too much blood in his tits?! Help, quick!"

---

And because I couldn't decide which version I like more, here is the vampire version of him:

.... because he would stand in the sun just to make a point to you.

#vampyr #geoffrey mccullum #I imagine him to be very much himbo #sorry for drawing for so many fandoms you guys must be tired #love you for staying <3

[nxrthmizu]

love in bubble wraps.

fandom | haikyuu!!

pairing | kuroo tetsurou x reader

genre | fluff

w.c | 1.9k

author's note | based on a real life experience... :)

Love, you think, comes in many forms. Sometimes love is a warm, home-cooked meal that is now cooked at least once a week because you told your mother you liked it. Other times, love is laughing and crying alongside the friends you’ve known since pre-school because everyone passed their highschool finals with flying colours. Throughout our lives, we gradually come to meet the different forms of love, because it comes in all shapes, colours, and sizes.

First, we learn that love is a roof that you can always turn to when a storm blows in. Then, we learn that love is knowing that there are people who will drop everything to help you when your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. Lastly, we learn to interlock our fingers with the one we wish to walk to the end of time with.

Then again, love varies from person to person— Just like how the goddess of love, Aphrodite, looks different to every soul that sets its sights on her; Beauty truly lies in the eye of the beholder. For some, love comes in the form of a warm body to cuddle next to on a rainy day. For others, love comes in the form of a jewelled ring. For you, love comes in the form of a 6’2 man who still doesn’t know how to tame his bedhead.

Tetsurou is often too busy for his own good, always running around here and there to secure contracts, ensuring that Japan can make a name for itself during the Olympics. He books train tickets to opposite ends of Japan at least once a month, leaving before the sun rises and returning after it sets. The sun never dictates his work day, because while his coworkers work from nine to five, Tetsurou works until he finishes his tasks.

Okay, so your husband is a bit of a workaholic. And maybe not just a bit.

“L/N-san,” Your colleague asks one day out of sheer curiosity. A group of women are gathered around the snack station, sipping on cheap, machine-produced instant coffee as they gossip about their marital lives instead of working. “Now that I think about it… I’ve never met your husband, have I?”

“Ah,” You sweat-drop nervously at this. Wonderful— Your parents are already pressuring you about how Kuroo rarely visits with you— And now your coworkers, too? “He’s quite busy. He works very hard to make sure that we’ll be well-off in the future.” You respond, knowing that your reply is just a thinly-veiled way of saying ‘He’s rarely home,’.

“Oh, that’s awful,” Wherever you go, there’s always a middle-aged lady who has nothing better to do than to prey on the weak spots of your life, “It must feel lonely. You must feel so sad when you see my husband pick me up from work.” A smirk dances up her lips as she waits for you to walk into her trap, smiling as widely as a spider watching its incoming meal.

“Not really,” A practiced smile counters hers as you take a sip of your coffee. “I know Tetsurou loves me— There’s an unbreakable trust between us. He might not be home often, but I know that he’s working hard so that we can have a better tomorrow… And that’s sort of comforting, in a sense. Knowing that Tetsurou wishes for a future where we’re financially stable, where we can just spend a whole day doing nothing in each other’s presence…”

A chorus of ‘awws’ makes you blush. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the middle-aged coworker huff in failure. You mentally fist-pump the air at your victory.

“Anyway, I heard that you got engaged last weekend, Shiho-san,” Changing the topic quickly, you smile when the attention of all the ladies instantly redirects to the said woman, who blushes fiercely as they all coo at her ring. “Congratulations!”

“Oh my! He bought you such a beautiful ring… Ah, Shiho-san, you’re so lucky!”

“My husband also bought me a new bag last week,” The middle-aged woman chips in proudly, cocking her head towards her cubicle, where the leather handbag sits atop a tower of documents. “It’s very expensive.”

“That’s nice of him! It’s been forever since my husband bought me something.” Sighs another lady. Most of the group hums in agreement, sharing sympathetic looks with those that share the same fate.

“At the beginning, when we were still dating, Hayato used to buy me so many things, now…” The coworker that brings homemade cookies every New Years’ party says, looking dejected. “It’s like once we’re married, they don’t have to worry about making us happy anymore…”

“Ah, what about you, L/N-san? Does your husband buy you things often?”

You groan internally when the attention shifts to you once more. Honestly, you’re just there to listen and enjoy your coffee— Must you keep getting dragged into the conversation? “Well, personally I don’t really need my husband to buy me things to keep me happy, but… He does bring back trinkets whenever he travels.” You think about it for a while, then brighten when you remember the latest thing Tetsurou brought back for you.

“What is it?” Your change in expression isn’t missed by your coworkers, who preen with curiosity, excited to know what made you brighten up.

“Ah, it’s nothing… I promise, you’ll be disappointed if I tell you.” You chuckle.

“Come on!” “Be a good sport, L/N-san!” “We’re curious now, you can’t not tell us!”

“Oh, fine.” You sigh, “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

[ Three days ago, Saturday ]

You were on the couch, binge-watching Grey’s Anatomy with the Netflix subscription Tetsurou got for you to occupy yourself with while he was out of town. Your cat, Kazume (nicknamed after your husband’s best friend) lazed on your lap, yawning once in a while and swatting at the stray threads from your sweater.

Somewhere in between your fifteenth and seventeenth episode, the front door chirped with the sound of someone inserting a key into the lock. You perked up at the noise, Kazume yelping in protest as he almost slipped off.

“Oh, sorry Kazu.” You said quickly, a smile widening your lips as the front door opened.

“I’m ho—” Before your husband could finish his sentence, you were already at his side. Kazume meowed loudly from the couch, complaining about you abandoning him for another man. Tetsurou’s eyes softened, the edges of his hazel irises worn down by exhaustion. You took his laptop bag from him, as well as the folders he has in hand, balancing them like how you would balance your three grocery bags when Tetsurou wasn’t around to help. “I missed you too, but are you sure you can carry all of my files with one hand?”

“Yes!” You replied confidently, showcasing your balance as you wobbled through the living room with all of your husband’s stuff. Tetsurou’s laugh echoed through the apartment as he followed you, his reflexes coming into play as he dived for a falling file. “Oops.” You giggled, helping him up after he practically hurled himself at the floor.

Tetsurou shook his head, sighing fondly while he hugged you from the back, taking comfort in the familiar smell of your hair shampoo. “I missed you.” He mumbled.

“Me too.” You hummed, reaching back to stroke your hands through his still-untamed bedhead.

“Oh, before I forget,” Tetsurou leapt up suddenly, chucking his backpack onto the ground. “I brought back something for you!”

“I already have like, twenty-five keychains from Hyogo,” You reminded him, “Please tell me it’s not a…” Your voice trailed off when Tetsurou proudly whipped his gift from his backpack, hazel eyes shining for your reaction.

“... So?” Tetsurou grinned widely, like a five-year-old child holding up his drawing for his mother to critique.

“Oh my god, I love you.” You declared in your 80 sq ft kitchen, grabbing the gift from him. “I’ll clean up your stuff, go take a bath and we can have dinner while watching the…'' You pursed your lips as you try to recall the information that kept evading you like an annoying fly. “... 15th? 16th episode of Grey’s.”

“You started that without me? I said I wanted to watch that.” Tetsurou pouted petulantly like a child.

“I finished all the other stuff I wanted to watch,” You told him unapologetically. “And Kazume wanted to watch it too. Now hurry and take a bath or I’m starting without you.”

Twenty minutes later, you were cuddled up to your husband, who did not bother to comb his hair (“It’ll just be messy later anyway,” His reasoning was). Every few seconds, he would scoop some cold mash potato out of the giant bowl (The two of you were too impatient to heat it with the microwave) and feed you. All throughout the episode, there was the constant pop-pop-pop of you working your way through the giant piece of bubble wrap Tetsurou had brought home for you.

“You know, I was thinking,” You hummed as Tetsurou pressed ‘Next Episode’. “If It were any other woman, they might have slapped you for bringing just bubble wrap home after a whole week away.”

“Well, then I’m lucky that you aren’t ‘any other woman’, am I?” Your husband smiled, pressing a gentle kiss onto your lips before picking up the mash potato bowl again. “Are we just going to have mashed potatoes for dinner?”

“I bought spicy instant noodles yesterday, we can have that later if you want.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

[ Present, Tuesday ]

“That’s actually so sweet of him!” Your colleague coos as you finish your story. “Wish I had a husband like that…'' Even the middle-aged lady begrudgingly nods in agreement. For a moment, you feel a surge of pride— It was your husband they were talking about— Your sweet, hardworking, dork of a 6’2 bedhead.

“You wouldn’t be able to survive.” Another lady snorts. “That guy is away for weeks at a time.”

You hum. “Well, at least he calls back every night, regardless of how tired he is.” In the corner of your mind, you remember that he makes sure to call his grandmother every weekend, and that he sends his parents (and grandparents) money every month, that he visits your parents the first Sunday after he’s back from his trips— Not to mention that he always brings a gift of wellness products (The most recent one was a box of abalone).

The group of women swoon once more.

“Well, I guess we should get back to work,” You dispose of your paper cup in the trash, brushing your hands off. “See you ladies later.”

The moment you’re back at your desk, you take out your phone to text your husband, who is, no doubt, going to be very, very confused.

[ y/n ] 2.37pm

— we have a problem

[ tetsu <3 ] 2.39pm

— what’s wrong???

[ y/n ] 2.38pm

— i may have accidentally caused 20 women in my office to fall in love with you

[ tetsu <3 ] 2.38pm

— what ???

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

you know it's love when your dad comes home with this giant piece of bubble wrap and your mom literally squeals and snatches it to immediately start popping it on the couch while browsing facebook on her ipad

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader fluff #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou x y/n #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x you #kuroo tetsurou fluff #[ris writes]—✧

[weaselbeaselpants]

Weird week behind me weird week ahead of me but I’ve done a lot of self reflection and came to the weirdest epiphany. The older I get the more I realize all my ‘problems’ with VivziePop - her thoughts on criticism;  the choices she makes in story telling; some of the people she’s worked with (not that any of that’s my business; I’m not her mom) really aren’t about Viv, but more about her fandom.

I’m speaking of the preHazbin era Viv here and as someone who’s only watch horny fish jump at the surface rather than jump straight into the Hazbin-fandom, but given my ‘noncritical’ fellow fans have told me that the Vivziefandom now is also terrible - I guess I’ll go over my experience and make the most out of what I do know.

I followed Viv in 2009 and fell off in 2013 cause I kinda just lost interest and found myself wrapped up in other fandoms. I’ve always felt amicable about her content; I could give or take designs or the way in which she wrote characters -- ((Zech represent!!!)) but it’s honestly surreal and really fun seeing this person I recognize make it big and improve so much. Like I’ve said before I am very happy and very impressed with Viv doing all she’s done in the span of TWO YEARS. wow gurl.

Trouble is, there was the particular breed of fan who really made me...uncomfortable. They felt almost possessive of Viv’s attention. They sang praises about her work in a way that just made me want nothing to do with it because I was worried if I drew those characters these people would be like ‘hey, I’M Viv’s fav artist, not you!”. They would  unironically write Viv messages like:

“you are a GOD” -- “I’m so not worthy compared to you” --“I wish I was as talented as you” -- “YOU ARE EVERYTHING AND CAN’T DO WRONG VIV”.

The kind of messages which were meant to sound flattering but, intentional or not, came off as gaslighting, like they were guilt tripping Viv about being better than them. This behavior, treating your favorite artist/internet personality like your superior and groveling like Starscream, it strikes a nerve with me; partly because I was this way with my favorite artists and influences back in the day,  but also because once I got a taste of that treatment myself I realized just how bad it could be:

There was once a girl on dA who was jealous of me because of the attention I got on my art instead of her. I told her that I wasn’t gonna stop drawing but also that there was nothing wrong with her art and she’d find her place. It was weird being put in that position where someone is very clearly upset at you but also looking for your approval.

The second was some scumball who I blocked in 2016. He wouldn’t speak to me, only write condescending, backhanded comments on my art; check on my profile daily; call me a bootlicker (cuz I took commissions) behind my back; redrew my art and would talk about me in his personal artist notes about how I ‘probably wouldn’t see this’ - oh yeah all the while he did fan art of my characters but again never spoke to me when I replied. When I finally messaged him about his behavior he said he thought I was “really overrated” and “bad for the fandom” cuz I took money and kept him from getting the love he deserved. It took messaging another person within our fandom, one I had been in spats with online before, to finally realize I shouldn't put up with that bs....

That guy who was stalking me btw did so while I was well under 1.K watchers and am still pretty obscure. Anyway, I had one guy unhealthily watching me for the wrong reasons. Just one. This is why when Viv says she “hates creeps” I 150% believe this woman and am not about to call her a liar who just can’t take criticism. Like, if you really think that, I’m sorry but you don’t know what Viv’s gone through from both her critics AND fans.

Of course, a lot of people will be like “I bet you’re just jealous and really just want that kind of attention yourself so you’re preaching to the choir”, but like...no. I am envious of just about any creator who’s the social butterfly I’m not, but, like, if I'm jealous of an artist none of that is that artists’ fault. Ever. It’s my own issues with being comfortable with myself are at stake. If I criticize Viv’s work it’s not because I see her as competition or my Squilliam Fancyson; it’s because I’m a critical fan of animation and cartoons and have my own thoughts to share on the cartoons of an artist I’m familiar with.  Jealousy/envy/mixed-admiration/godIwishthatwereme.jpeg feels are totally natural and valid emotions when you’re a creator. Envy becomes a problem when you internalize, weaponize, and scrutinize people on the basis of them being what you aren’t which -yes - some people do in the name of criticism. ((Although, I would hardly say some of the nastiest AntiViv folk are jealous as much as they are angry that this project they think is harmful is getting attention and using that as justification for some really shitty behavior of their own, which no, this post is not a part of by virtue of coming from a critical fan.))

Critique can come from either a good place or bad place; good critique can be used to bad ends and bad critique can come from a well-meaning place, and vice versa.   It’s the difference between many a criticalfan having a sour taste in their mouth regarding the Viv’s base but persisting in a critique+admiration separate of that, and this asswipemonster trying to weasel his way into Spindlehorse while also bashing Viv on a public forum for clearly vitriolic reasons. He was a creep.

So yeah um please stop insisting that every Hazbin critic is just jealous’ because a) there are people who have a past with Viv’s base and that clouds their judgement, but in a lot of cases that doesn’t invalidate their feelings or thoughts on her work separate from that, and b) I’ve seen what clingy gaslighting jealous fans are. Spoiler: they’re not so much Annie Wilkes as much as they are Tommy Wiseaus. You don’t want Tommy Wiseau following you.

Another bad vibe I really picked up on that I can kinda confirm is still probably the case now: people think that they know Viv and the Spindlehorse crew and have the right to send them shit they don’t need or WANT to be seeing.

Like, I talked with Viv once ages ago. I don’t remember what I said other than we were talking about Frankenweenie, I think. She was nice. Outside of that she said “thank you” to my comments on her deviations but that’s it. I DO NOT KNOW THIS WOMAN AND unless you’ve worked with or are a legit friend/mutual of hers, NEITHER DO YOU. But I don’t think every Vivzie stan/critic knows this. Whether it be people assuming she MUST think they’re headcanon is now canon-canon cuz she liked a comment they made; or some critic thinking they must have seriously hurt her pride because they’ve been blocked by her on twitter (or you know, maybe she and the rest of Spindlehorse is tired of getting @s and don’t have to time to read through your analysis so they’re gonna just block and move on cuz they’re busy).

Just because the creators talk with fans doesn’t mean fans are literally their best friends and have a part in the show’s direction. And yes, critics and reviewers fit that bill as well. Know your damn boundaries people.

If you find/make some kind of contribution as a viewer that’s awesome but you should never expect nor DEMAND the creator see it. The most obvious horror stories involving this and Helluva/Hazbin have been the Instagrams made by the crew being harassed by incestpedo enthusiasts, but it applies even to just @ing creators as well.

I’ve seriously had someone tell me to just take my criticisms directly to Viv and like...no. Why would I do that?

I respect Viv and the artists working with her enough to know that they’re working their asses off on an animated series and should not be bothered. I don’t want them to stop all they’re doing and reply to me. I want them to keep working. Also, that kind of logic makes me wonder how many critics Viv’s found because she found it on her own or if some obsessed fan told her about it - which is really messed up cuz if it IS just good critique you’re, again, just pestering her, and if it wasn’t critique but full on harassment WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU MESSAGE HER ABOUT THAT ANYWAY? I’m sure she doesn’t need to be reminded that people drew and said really awful shit about her on Tapatalk. My point being I’m sure what people think they’re doing is

“OOOoh Viv lookitwut this person is doing in our fandom we need to ban together against this toxic behavior”

but what they’re actually doing, and sounding like, is -

“Hey Viv I know you are working so hard on the show and you’re trying to figure out where to go from here but LOOKITWHUTTHISHATERSAID. LOOKATIT! VALIDATE ME VIV AND PUT’EM IN THEIR PLAAAAAACE!”

TL;DR Viv’s fanbase back in the day consisted of everyman artists and interests but there was this one breed of fan -who I hope was just a vocal minority- that ruined it for everything else.

Call it stanning or ‘simping’ or as it’s classically known, ‘white knighting’, whatever it was it really soured a lot of people on her because of those fans.

That’s why the DollCreep drama got so bad from what I can tell. Doll and Viv had a falling out and then called out eachother online where people who took it upon themselves to speak for them starting throwing mud.

Back in the day I remember Viv used to get mad at artists for ‘stealing’ her style. I think this attitude from Viv directly has vanished but I remember it happening because one of the people she thought was stealing her style did art for me at some point and they were basically shamed/chased off deviantART by a gaggle of these really nasty Vivfans.

inb4> “VIV WAS AWARE AND STILL WEAPONIZES HER FANS THO”

I don’t know that. And honestly, where I’m inclined to believe she’d do something like that then I think Viv is really different and has improved her business and public image from her college days. I’d be very disappointed in her if she was pulling a Butch Hartman or Derek Savage, but I just don’t think she is one, k?

Viv is more self critical and aware than any of these uber protective-gatekeeping fans give her credit for. She said on the Pizzapartypodcast that she knows the Hazbin pilot wasn’t perfect; she’s been able to identify the problems with old Zoophobia; this woman knows that criticism of all kinds need to exist and from what I see she sounds like she’s trying to get used to that.��It’s just, you know, when you have nasty antis badgering you, stalkers, obsessive yes-mam’ fans, opinionated shit posters, r34 artists, entitled shippers and the NDAs of a company alongside your own branded image - all that negativity, even the constructive bits, tend to clump together and you just want to scream at it so you can finish the damn cartoon already!!!!

TL;DR: PART TWO

VivziePop/mind is basically indie Tim Burton.  Her work is fun, shallow and made with love but is marketed as being for everyone when it’s really not. Parts of it I love to watch; parts of it drives me crazy cuz of reasonswhatev this isn’t a review.

BUT any fanbase where people tell me I should just “expect what’s coming to me” when I’m trying to argue against dragging creators into fandrama is troubling. People have a parasocial bond with fandoms and their creators and they need to learn when to back off.

#vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #helluva boss critical #critical fandom #I'm sorry to all the people I messaged n bothered over the past year bout my stupid thoughts #tw: stalker

[mrs-cavill-wife]

Forbidden Witch (2/?)

Pairing: Charles Brandon X Female Reader

Warning: Fantasy. Language. Forbidden Love. Tell me if I miss something.

Author's Note: This one is REALLY long chapter but here comes Charles Brandon, calm your tits! Hope you guys like it, if you do, please reblog it! I'm all ears to feedback and suggestions, thank you! DM or comment if you want to be on tag lists of Forbidden Witch!

Tag List: @lexyvaldez26 @thereisa8ella @natura1phenomenon @mrsavery @number1chonie @themanfromu @littlefreya @legendarywizarddetective @lovingbearherringhairdo @zealoushound @deangal-101 @everydaymultifandom @summersong69 @jgtfvhsg @tellingyouastory @sillyrabbit81 @nuggsmum @pussyverson @oh-for-fic-sake @foodieforthoughts @fanficlover91 @r-t-doll @its--fandom--darling @poledancingdinos @hlkwrites @rmtndew

Riding for a few minutes, the boy was fun, he had many stories but I was grateful when he stopped chattering. I think this adventure exhausted him.

We arrived in Aluma and it was not difficult to find the castle, in a short time, we were well in freight for the construction. Aretuza was a beautiful place, but I had never seen such a magnificent castle, it was big, people were probably lost there. I approached the entrance and came across three soldiers, who immediately aimed the spears at me.

"Stop! Who's coming over there?"

I looked at them alerting them to stay quiet and I got off the horse slowly, the little prince was already asleep and I didn't want to find him. I think almost turning into monster food was a great experience, he needed to rest.

"Tsc-tsc. I don't think that's how you supposed to treat a lady. Especially when she saved and is in charge of the safety of her future king."

One of them approached to look closely and then looked at the others.

"Go, fast! Let your majesties know, Prince Eric has been found."

One of them ran inside the door, faster than a fox and I, even with the little boy, still had to wait outside. I looked at the blondie, and he slept soundly, hugging my Atlas, as if je were the most comfortable of the mattresses. Which is probably something he must have. Based on the aesthetics of the Castle, they must have everything from the good and the best, and even more.

"Eric! My little warrior!"

A voice, clearly desperate, screamed and, faster than her guard, the queen approached. A beautiful lady, blonde, thin but with curves, a beautiful green dress with gold details that matched with her hazel eyes and, of course, a simple but remarkable crown with rubies on the top of her head.

She approached me and the little boy, affectionately touching her face and then brushing her hair with her fingers. Her features were clear, pure happiness, relief and tears that I think, have been there since the little boy ran away. Eric woke up quickly with his mother touch and smiled softly, still tired.

She grabbed the boy, without caring about his soaked clothes, giving him a giant bear hug while sobbing.

"Oh my little prince, why? You know how worried your Mom is when you run away like that."

She said now looking at him with teary red eyes. I have to admit I felt bad for her.

"I think I'll have to put soldiers in to watch you again"

Again? Yeah, he didn't lie, and by the nickname "little warrior", I think he was really a little adventurer and a big runaway kid.

"Mom, I'm sorry and I'm fine. The witch saved me. Without her, I would be monster dinner right now."

Said the little troublemaker and after the brief moment of mother and son, the queen noticed me, gave a big smile and I bowed in respect, but she soon shook her head and held my hand.

"You, my young lady, no need to bow. You saved my son, my greatest treasure, you don't know how grateful I am. What's your name?"

I didn't knew exactly what to say. I looked at Eric and he just smiled comforting me.

"Oh.. your majesty.. I'm Cassandra, Cassandra of Boudicca.. and I just.. I just did what any sensible person would do."

"One way or another, me and your majesty, the king, we are very grateful, and by the way the king would love to meet you."

Meet me? Oh Lord, I can't say no to a queen, right? She's being so sweet with me but I'm even dressed properly to meet a king?

"My queen.. I.. well.."

"No no, I'll be offended if you refuse"

I sighed and nodded. The soldiers led the way and the queen took me into the huge castle, holding my right hand and with her son by the side, but within minutes he ran into a room with large wooden doors, apparently the throne room.

I thought we would get in there but the queen is still walking and I had no choice but to follow. We arrived at a door, it was opened and it was a beautiful room, with a huge bed that would probably fit three people, a nice balcony, a dressing table, a shelf with some books. The queen took me to the room on, had a huge mirror, a beautiful bathtub, prepared with some foam and next to it, a black girl with a simple dress, braided hair and a beautiful smile.

"This is Juliette, one of my chaperones, she's a wonderful lady, she will help you bathe and get ready."

The lady Juliette bowed at me and I looked surprised at the queen.

"Your majesty, that's not necessary, I.."

She cutted me before I could say something more.

"Darling, you can call me Madeline and maybe it's not necessary but I asked my man to treat your beautiful horse and I think you need too, besides.."

She grabbed a little cloth and gently rubbed under my nose wiping it. Something a mother would do. And I saw a little of blood when she pull away the cloth. Fire spells always consume a lot of my strength, occasionally, my nose would start bleeding and on the worst situation, I would pass out.

"..You look very exhausted, please, let my lady help you.."

Alright, maybe I need it and won't hurt, right?

I nodded causing the Queen and her lady to smile widely at me.

"Huh.. At least, lady Juliette, can she let me take care of my bath? By myself, please? I don't want to be disrespectful to your kindly, but I'm not used to undressing in front of anyone."

The queen smiled softly and nodded at Juliette and soon, she were our of bathroom.

"Darlin, one question. What's your favorite color?"

"Black!?"

I answered a little confused and she left me alone in the bathroom. I undressed and went into the warm water.

I would not feel comfortable naked in someone's presence, at all, even if I were a man.. I imagine that some people think I can be experient, I admit that I have a beautiful body, at least I think that I'm beautiful, attracts many masculine looks, I have been courted but always by men who saw me with a piece of meat or out of curiosity to know what spell a witch knows how to do between four walls. Pathetic.

The truth is that I have never been with a man, I have never fallen in love. When I was younger, I used to imagine what my future husband would be like. I imagined your details, I remember everything I liked.. He would be a tall man, defined body, fair, strong, sweet, romantic, noble, fair skin, blue eyes like the sky in a spring morning, dark hair like the night, short or maybe curly, lips chubby that would always leave me wanting more, hands that when..

Oh my God, stop Cassandra, you're not a teen anymore.. and it's not going to happen.

I blew away those stupid thoughts and got up from bathtub, grabbed a towel and wrapped around my body. When i arrived on room, I meet Lady Juliette, holding a box and next to her, on the bed, a simple, but for my eyes, a really gorgeous black dress.

"Oh my God, that's..?"

Lady Juliette laughed softly and opened the box, revealing a necklace.

"The queen want you to wear this for tonight. She thought you would like the style and it's also a gift for saving her son"

I don't wanted to sounds dramatic but it's beautiful, the dress, the necklace. I grabbed the dress and ran back to bathroom to get dressed. I admired myself on the mirror for a second and quickly, Juliette was behind me, helping me with the necklace.

"By your smile, I see you approved. The queen will love to know. Your majesties await for you on the throne room, I'll lead the way."

I nodded and followed Juliette to the throne room

Charles Brandon POV

Another beautiful morning. I woke up and rubbed my eyes, yawned getting up and wearing a shirt. I went to the window, opened the curtains and let the sunlight in. Oh, fresh air. Honestly, I could not have chosen a better place to be my home, in freight to a beautiful and immense river, around the splendid nature, far from the city, that noise makes me crazy, horses running, people screaming, songs out of tune, poor people begging for help and old "relationships" knocking on my door. That's peace right here.

I looked to the side. Seeing my wife, Phoebe and my little princess, my daughter Mackenzie. Christ, she is growing up so fast, she is only six years old now but she is a very smart little girl, loves to read, write and draw. She is the most special thing in the world for me.

I remember when Phoebe told me she was pregnant, four weeks after our wedding. I have always been a man who lives in the present, the now. But at that moment, I cared about the future, about me, about being a better man, something I never was and my wife suffered a lot from it, she would pretend to don't mind sleeping all alone almost every night, pretended not see me arriving late, often drunk, lipstick and sweat on my skin. Today I don't like to talk but, loyalty was never on my list of tasks, not before Phoebe give me someone so innocent, so sweet and pure, someone who depended on me. There's a Charles Brandon before Mackenzie, and another Charles Brandon after Mackenzie, and long before that, long before I met Phoebe, I was just a farmer's son.

How do I become Duke? Well, I was always in love with horses and swords, my father died when I was little and my mother was a queen's lady. I practically lived in the castle because of my mother's work, and this work, gave me a chance to see the soldiers training, fighting, riding, I just loved it and the captain ended up realizing my admiration, despite my young age, I became a helper, simply started carrying things, gave a little help with the horses. My dedication took me far, in a short time I cleaned the armor and then I was sharpening and testing the swords and when I really became a man, after my mother died of natural causes, with the blessing of King Edward, I became knights, soldier, one of the best.

Going to war was incredible for me, it seems sick but I liked to cut off heads, tear apart, see blood and defend the kingdom that treated me like a son. King Edward had a best friend, a king from a distant continent. King Alexander. On one of his visits, there was a feast, and that's when we met. That same night, there was an ambush in the castle and unfortunately, the king in which I served since I was a child, was murdered, as well as several soldiers, I remained standing, even injured and saved King Alexander.

After all that, King Edward gave me a lot of support. He knew it was a big loss for me, I lost a lot of friends and he knew that King Alexander was almost like a father to me. He knew of my dedication and love for the royal guard, for being a soldier and he invited me to be part of his soldiers. I was reluctant but after thinking a lot, I really had nothing else, nothing to lose so, the next day, I am already on my way to Aluma, his kingdom. There I met his wife, he told me they were trying to have a baby, they hoped it was a boy, an heir, I honestly, I always thought it was bullshit but I wouldn't say that, I was treated like a son.

For a few years, I exercised my place in the royal guard, I became a captain, and of course, the title attracted several lovers. Redheads, brunettes, blondes, fair skin, black skin, a whole meal full of colors and tastes.. each dawn I got up from a different bed, and "finally", I met Phoebe, a young lady, from a noble family. At first, it was just a carnal thing but it ended up becoming a passion, and soon, we were married. Being a captain, having a wife and being a party boy. My favorite things in life, but they were colliding. Phoebe suffered from wondering if I would return alive from a battle and the other night, she slept alone while I had fun with some harlot. It got to the point where I realized that it couldn't be like that anymore, I had affection for the woman who woke up more than I want in me, so I made the decision to relinquish my post as captain of the royal guard. King Alexander tried to insist that I stay, it's true that we ended up becoming great friends but he ended up understanding my decision.

As a thank you for years of loyalty to him and his best friend, he gave me a title and his best builders would build my home, wherever I wanted. I chose, Sullfolk, a beautiful continent, full of nature. I became Charles Brandon, the Duke of Sullfolk.

"Daddy?"

I leave my daydreams of the past, hearing that sweet voice of my dear Mackenzie. I looked at the bed and saw her with a sleepy face and a smile in my direction. I walked over, sitting next to her on the bed and placing a kiss on her messy hair.

"Good morning, sunshine. how did my little princess sleep?"

"Good daddy, are we traveling today, right?"

I laughed softly nodding at her. Since King Alexander sent a letter, inviting me and my family to Aluma, my little Mackenzie is not holding on to happiness, she would ask me every night, "When are we going? It's closer daddy?".

It would be her first trip, she would know the place of my stories that she loved to hear. It would be a visit, it had been a few years since Alexandre and I had seen each other and he said he would prepare a banquet, talk about the old days, it would be fun for my family, a chance for Mackenzie to know a new place and Phoebe would review the place where he was born. In fact, we were all in stasis.

"I'll get ready and tell our servants to put our breakfast. Wake up your mother and meet me in the dining room. After we eat, we go to the road."

She smiled widely causing me the same action of affection and I left the room.

#henrycavill rp #henry cavill x female reader #charles brandon x you #charles brandon x reader #charles brandon #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader

[ko-fanatic]

Are You Going To Destroy It? (Part one)

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Danganronpa

Pairings: IshiMondo

Summary: Ishimaru is supposed to be perfect. He gets perfect grades, enforces the rules as hall monitor, and then goes home to care for his ailing grandfather while his father works long hours to support the three of them. But the simple fact is he's not perfect, and everything is unravelling his mental state more and more. Being forced to care for the man who ruined his life isn't helping.

TW: Suicidal thoughts, extreme bullying, self-harm, homicidal thoughts, family issues, mental health issues

Author’s note: Heavily inspired by Zankyou no Terror. Taka's storyline can be seen as an AU, but Daiya and Mondo aren't terrorists. Also, as a disclaimer: If you are aware someone is suicidal, DO NOT leave them alone. Mondo is just a kid, and doesn't know better, but now you do. If you or someone you know is struggling, please reach out.

For all Kiyotaka loved school, it could be hell. 

He was drawn to learning, to pleasing his teachers, following the rules… But the same could not be said for those times of day where he was offered no protection. Before school, breaktime, lunchtime, and after school. Those were torture.

“C’mon, Taka,” One of the boys by his side grinned wolfishly, arm slung around his shoulders in some faux-friendly action, when in reality it was simply to keep him from leaving. 

Had he expected any different when he was accosted and all but dragged to the pool behind the school building? Honestly, no. However, despite the probability that he could fight the boys off and run home, he… was tired. Too tired to push out of their grips and run yet again. 

Too tired to go home. 

Hence, here he stood, shoved to stand on one of the diving blocks - still in his full uniform - his classmates looming over him like vultures.

“Why don’t you go for a little dip?” The boy laughed as Kiyotaka resolutely stared out at the glistening water, so crisp and clear in the afternoon sun, “And then, well, not come up again.”

Ah, telling him to kill himself, yet again. They’d done this dance before (or was that another classmate? Their faces blur). He’d be lying, to say he hadn’t thought of it. Despite the utter terror that last instance had incited, razor blades thrown at him with jeering taunts to go cut up his arms some more, this is another level of intimidation. 

So painfully close to casual. 

“It’s what a filthy Ishimaru like you deserves.”

He was right about that, he supposed. Some time ago, he would’ve held his head up high and asserted that, yes, he is an Ishimaru, but he was going to fix his family’s reputation. He would drag his name out of the mud, and make it all better. 

Now, he just wants the exhaustion to end. 

“It’ll be just like falling asleep.”

The sentence rang over and over in his head, so similar to ones he’d thought on countless occasions; clutching bottles upon bottles of his grandfather’s pills, staring at the open blades of a pair of scissors, at the length of rope in the rotting garden shed that could easily be tied into a noose. 

And God, did he just want to sleep.

His body leant forward, without explicit permission but he had no will to stop himself, eyes closing as he awaited the burning sensation that comes with breathing chlorinated water -

“CANONBALL!!”

The yell was loud, startling all of them at the poolside, and accompanied with a large splash. Kiyotaka and his classmates got soaked with the tidal wave of water that had been dispersed, and Kiyotaka’s breath caught in his throat when he saw the cause of the disturbance. 

A handsome boy was in the pool, grinning ear to ear after his impressive dive from the roof above. His bleach blonde hair hung down in sopping ringlets, dishevelled out of whatever style it’d had before. His pretty, almost lilac eyes were heavily ringed in smudged, dripping eyeliner, but he didn’t seem to have a care in the world. 

“‘S too warm to stay poolside, guys!” The boy smirked, swimming up to them as Kiyotaka could only watch in confusion. Assumedly, his classmates were also dumbfounded, considering the utter silence that seemed to envelop them all like a thick fog.

That was when the boy grabbed him by the leg, pulling him into the water but never letting his head dip below. He wasn’t dragging him under to drown, wrapped in a cool embrace like his mind and peers had whispered to him over and over again. No, this seemed… friendly. Like the adolescents in the media, who play and rough-house, yet never want any harm to come to each other. 

He was still in the boy’s arms, head static and floating above his shoulders, reality a haze. He swore he could hear his classmates say something, though he doesn’t know what, and when he looked back they were gone. 

“Hey,” The boy smiled, much more subtle and subdued than the grin he’d previously flashed. Kiyotaka was lifted a little higher, placed gently on the side of the pool, his head lowered and rivulets of water running down from his short hair. 

“Are you okay?” The boy asked, “The things some assholes do… But you’re safe right now, yeah?”

He didn’t speak. He never spoke. 

“Sorry I pulled ya into the water,” The other spoke once more, leaning on one toned arm as the other scratched at the back of his mop of hair, “Thought I should put some distance between ya ‘nd those guys, and that was the first thing I thought of. Didn’t really wanna cause a fight with you in the middle, looking so out of it -”

“I’m -” Kiyotaka began, voice hoarse and so soft, quiet, and he paused to clear his throat, “I’m fine… Used to it, I suppose…”

“Well, then that’s not really fine, right?” The other posed, like it was the simplest thing in the world, “Name’s Mondo. What’s yours?”

He looked down at his uniform, thumbing the seam of his blazer sleeve, a million thoughts running across his mind but without any substance to actually grab hold of one. As noncoporial as a spirit.

“I… Kiyotaka Ishimaru…” He hesitantly put forward, his name feeling like molasses in his mouth, gluing to his teeth and oozing between his lips, “Thank you for helping me, Mondo-kun.”

It feels right, to thank him. Or, not right, but proper. A thing one should do. He cares a whole lot for propriety, has to, and the instinct kicks in fast. Mondo simply looks amused. 

“Ya don’t need to bother with honorifics, it’s cool,” He waves off, and a small pang in Kiyotaka’s chest murmurs ‘ah, to be so casual’. 

He’ll never be able to do something like that, because he’ll never have a friend to be casual with. He’s not being morose when he thinks that, either; at this point in his life, despite being just a few months shy of his fifteenth birthday, he knows that as empirical fact. He’s unlikeable, plain and simple, exemplified by his classmates attempting to gode him into suicide. 

That must mean he’s a special kind of hateful. 

Mondo looks up, then, at the roof. A man with dark hair stands at the railing, arm casually slung over the side, watching the pair of them from his vantage point. Something in Kiyotaka’s chest shrinks, but Mondo is quick to assure him. 

“My brother,” Is his simple explanation, “Are you… gonna be alright to get home? By yourself, I mean?”

The thought of going home makes him flinch. The soulless eyes, staring at the wall as he gives his near-catatonic grandfather his bath, feeds him his dinner spoonful by spoonful, gives him his meds and forces him to swallow. So helpless, dependent, pathetic…

An evil part of him screams to just hold him under the water, wrap his hands around the old man’s throat, give him too many pills at once. Because, for God’s sake, this man ruined his life before it began, and it’d be so easy to take him out. Like an old dog that has outlived its use, out behind the garden shed -

He cuts off those thoughts there. He’s truly a vile person. 

“It’s fine,” He lies, because it isn’t. He doesn’t know who he’ll snap and kill first, himself or his grandfather, and he still wants nothing more than to lay down in the water and breathe until his lungs give in.

“If you’re certain,” Mondo hesitates, looking like he wants to say more, but instead he just pulled himself out of the pool, “I should probably get back to my brother. Still, though, if those idiots come after you again… I ain’t usually one to agree with being a narc, but some things are just way too much.”

He nods, though his heart isn’t in it. 

“See ya around, Taka!” Mondo grins, giving a mock salute as he walks off. 

Nothing’s stopping him from shuffling off the tile, going down into the depths of the water and laying at the very bottom until the staff come by tomorrow morning. But he doesn’t. He’s not sure why he doesn’t, but he stands and walks out the pool gate, dripping water onto the concrete of the pavement and drawing odd stares as he treks home. 

Taka, he thinks, I like that. 

#danganronpa #ishimondo #Kiyotaka Ishimaru #mondo oowada #daiya oowada #are you going to destroy it series #my fanfiction

[princeanxious]

Part One; “A Wounded Snake Lies Still”

A continuation fic in the au i built from this art piece I did and this post that I’d written that inspired this whole idea. I don’t know how many parts there will be, but the plan is for it to be hurt/comfort? It’s just that the comfort comes in small increments, but I promise the ending will be happy!

Fandom: Thomas Sanders Sides

Ships: mentions of past healthy Anxceit, start of story begins w/ analogical, end goal is analoceit! Side royality, Remus is lowkey Aro.

Minor Trigger Warnings: in no particular order.. brief mentions of painful memory loss, brief food mention, Remus and Deceit as sympathetic characters in general, accidental revealing of a secret-Remus feeling awful about it and Deceit being completely forgiving on it. Deceit being sorta selfish but also being very selfless without realize it. Deceit lying when he speaks/ backwards talk.

Serious Trigger Warnings: (slight spoilers) Deceit ignores his own distress in favor of keeping up a nonchalant act around the others, and doesn’t process his inner emotions in a healthy way. Deceit repressing years of his own resurfacing emotional trauma that originally came from his separation from Virgil, Deceit also briefly relives said trauma in the fic and pretends nothing is wrong even though something Really Is. Patton has minor empath abilities in this au and accidentally gets hit with a ride of very negative emotions that Deceit is already internally feeling when he touches Deceit.

(Let me know if I need to tag something else!)

Summary: Virgil’s missing memories have always been a touchy subject. After Remus and Deceit gain their acceptance of from the Light Sides and Thomas, Deceit still seems to have a few secrets to hide. If you asked him, he’d tell you it was for the best that he kept them. Partially concealing the truth was a slippery slope, indeed. But, could you really blame him? When Virgil was dating Logan and finally seemed happy again? To him, All the repression of his own trauma was worth Virgil’s happiness. Their years of love were lost with Virgil’s memories of the past, and there was no way in hell Deceit was about to jeopardize Virgil’s current stability now, not when the only person at fault for losing was Deceit himself.(or, was it? He’s never sure anymore. Trauma is a fickle beast.) Well, one slip up from Remus is all it takes before Deceit finds himself faced with that exact dilema fast approaching, and he finds he is less than prepared to face the music..

[[MORE]]

“Ugh, gross. In front of my deodorant?? Could you guys like. Not?? Be romance-y in the living room?? You two remind me of when Dee and Virgie were dating.” Remus grumbled offhandedly, too tired to deal with his twin’s particularly loud and loving attention directed towards Thomas’s literal representation of the heart this late into the afternoon.

They’d been loudly and shamelessly flirting back and forth from across the room while everyone set up for movie night, Roman in the living room with the others and Patton in the kitchen with Deceit making snacks. It was only seconds later that the duke realized his slip up as everything and everyone around clattered to a halt, the other sides turning stare at him in confusion.

Three years. It had taken Deceit three long, painstaking years and counting to distance himself from the years of memories he’d spent in bliss, to separate his mind from the heartbreak of losing his only love. Three years to come to terms with the fact that his only love now held no memories of the time they spent together, to accept that his love now deeply loved another.

Three years to come to terms with the fact that Virgil would never know what it was like to watch helplessly as his love writhed in pain. To watch as The Line ripped the memories from his love’s very being, forcing Virgil into a clean slate. Three years to come to terms that Virgil would never remember.

Three years of patience and heartbreak and anguish and lies, telling himself that it’d be okay, telling himself that he would move on and heal eventually. Three years of painstakingly separating himself from the narrative he and Virgil used to share, and ensuring that Virgil never had any inkling to what had been of his past. It was the only secret Deceit ever asked Remus to keep.

Rest assured, he’d tried to respark Virgil’s memories many times in the first few months after Virgil crossed over The Line from Dark side to Light, having ultimately crossed for good. It’d only led to fight after fight, driving a wedge further and further between them with each escalated argument. With a bleeding heart, he’d eventually given in, and stopped any further attempts. After all, each attempt only seemed to fuel Virgil with irritation. It had been clear then, that whatever they’d had, was never going to be again.

Three years it’d been. He thought he’d nearly healed, really. Most days he found he could exist and interact with the others and not be reminded of the past, and be comforted that he himself would not be a reminder to the past. Repression had always been his strong suit, though, conciously or not.

The Line had diminished as of late, after Thomas had really begun accepting Deceit and Remus. They could cross The Line for long amounts of time now, and mostly be fine. Occasionally they suffered from a bout of fatigue when disagreements with the others briefly turned sour, feeling The Line tugging back at them insistently. It never lasted for long, but there was always that underlying worry that The Line would finally snap them back into the dark for good if one of them made a final wrong move. The Light Sides didn’t know about The Line, not even Virgil remembered stumbling away from it after all that had happened. And well, if it were up to Deceit? They would never find out about it. Too many questions, too many messy answers.

Three years later, Deceit finds his heart splintering once more, an ache sinking into his chest that he knows Patton feels as they stand nearby one another. Memories flood in harshly, a deep painful longing resurging from the depths of his mind as it always did when faced with his reoccurring trauma sinking its claws into his psyche.

It’s only been seconds, but the silence is starting to feel heavy. Instead of moving on from the previous comment, Remus glances to Deceit, eyes pleading and devastated by having made his mistake, breaking the only promise to Dee he’d ever been seriously asked to keep. And Deceit knows he must do what he does best to save face, there is still time to redirect the carnage.

“Remus, please don’t refrain from spreading lies, that’s certainly not my job, after all.” He teases lightly, keeping his tone precisely on the edge of amused confusion, though his eyes hold an understanding none of the others know to read for. “Next you won’t be telling me that your favorite animal is a squid, not an octopus. Not your worst try at shock humor, yes?”

Remus catches on after a millisecond, drawing out a full cackle. “Sorry, not sorry! You should’ve seen the looks on your faces though! Priceless!! Who knew a shitty joke falling so flat would shock everyone so good!”

Their reactions held the desired effect. Quickly, everyone around the room seemed to relax, Roman even firing back his own playful quip to further lighten the mood. In the end, it was just a bump in conversation, something Remus caused every once in a while as everyone adjusted and Remus learned. Not a single step amiss that wasn’t already expectedly out of line.

Still, he’d have to talk to Remus in private later. Remus was just as sensitive to rejection as Roman was, and paired with his inherently intrusive thoughts, it would come to no surprise if Remus already thought Deceit now hated him. He didn’t, it’d been an accident, and Remus’s first ever slip up in three years since making the promise. Even if Dee had been mad about the slip up, he wouldn’t have had any right to be. He’d be sure Remus was the first person he sought to soothe when they got a free moment alone, it wasn’t right to let those kinds of thoughts fester.

Remus first, Virgil next, as it wasn’t quite crisis averted. He could feel Virgil’s eyes on his back from the living room. He denied his bleeding heart the closure of meeting Virgil’s gaze, of sharing his expression. He was too vulnerable, even now the anxious side could read his tells far too well, often without even realizing why. There was no doubt Virgil would try and talk to him later about it, and no matter how good the terms they were on with each other now were, Deceit knew the conversation would be a rough one. Virgil knows he has missing memories, and only recently had he accepted Remus and Deceit’s vague answers when he’d asked lightly about his past. It was at least him acknowledging they had the answers to the past he doesn’t remember.

If he wasn’t careful, each and every brick in the wall that Deceit had carefully worked to build up in the past three years could crumble right before his eyes, leaving him stripped emotionally defenseless, his trauma bared for all to see. And who knew what the others would do if they knew so much? What would they think of him then? Deceit inwardly shivered at the thought. It would not come to that.

Slipping into the nonchalant act was an easy card to play, it being his strong suit and most comforting form of security, a version of his own little lie of omission to soothe the bumpy situation over.

What he didn’t account for, was Patton gently reaching to touch his arm when everyone else had settled and their attentions returned to their tasks at hand. Deceit fought against his immediate urge to pull away, knowing the moral side just preferred connection through touch when addressing another, and instead looked up to meet Patton with a questioning gaze.

Whatever Patton was about to say died on his lips as he suddenly seemed to reflect an absolutely heartbroken expression, tears welling up in his eyes. Pain and sorrow and surprise seemed to seep into the other’s expression, warring for dominance amongst the primary confusion. It was only then that Deceit realized that Patton was still touching him, his bare arm with an equally bare hand, to be exact. The memory that Patton bore minor empath abilities that were tied into his existence as the representation of Thomas’s morality and feelings sunk in two seconds too late.

Direct skin to skin contact, something Deceit sought often to avoid in general nowadays anyway, was a direct way for Patton to tune into another's current feelings through said abilities, often by accident. There were limits that Patton could control, of course, and Patton only ever seemed to struggle coping with that ability when faced with an overwhelming swell of emotions from the other side. And, well.. Deceit’s mind certainly hadn’t taken well to being reminded of his repressed past, seeping through his protective mental walls with all sorts of roiling negative emotions.

From self-loathing, to dread. From anger, to guilt. From longing, to grief, then to depression, and finally apathy. It just couldn’t be helped that Deceit, a master of disguise and deception, had had three whole years to perfect the act that hid it from the outside and controlled it all from within.

Carefully, Deceit pulled Patton’s hand from his arm, and gently tucked it against the moral side’s chest. Still, he keeps his gloved hand there, letting Patton grasp it with both hands to ground himself after such an emotional ride.

“Deep breaths, dear Patton. Whatever isn’t the matter?” He asks gently, still playing into his act but his eyes plead a different story. ‘Not now,’ they say, ‘I will tell you, but not here,’ they beg. Patton nods slowly, and Deceit carefully wipes away Patton tears. In a move he knows he might regret later if it raises questions, he slips his hat off to gently plop onto the moral side’s head, and gently presses against the others clothed shoulder with his own in a show of comforting affection. It has the desired effect of distracting Patton and lightening his mood, Patton’s lingering upset masked by a watery smile only they can share. Deceit silently mourns the loss of his safety blanket, but accepts that a few minutes of feeling vulnerable while comforting Patton is a good trade to escape having his distress found out. He couldn’t have the other sides cornering him into explaining why Patton had suddenly begun crying without reason. It certainly wasn’t the fact that he felt guilty for Patton having experienced second hand an echo of his painfully raw emotions, no, not at all.

Thankfully their little scene goes unnoticed by the rest of the preoccupied sides, who are far too busy bickering over the movies they want to watch. Well, unnoticed by all but the one who sits to the side. Said side keeps an unconcerned but intrigued eye on the two in the kitchen, glancing over every time he adjusts his glasses to avoid suspicion. Logan says nothing, but knows he has questions for his dearest Virgil when movie night is over. He can only hope that the answers Virgil gives will not raise more questions.

(..Unfortunately, they do raise more questions than answers.. However, they now know exactly who has the answers they seek. It’s only a matter of getting those answers that is a task far harder than they’d ever expected it to be.)

To be continued..

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #anxceit #past anxceit #tw angst #tw negative thoughts #tw trauma #tw past trauma #tw memory loss #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #tw cursing #eventual hurt/comfort #luka writes #luka’s aus #luka’s fics #tw emotional repression #tw emotional trauma #please let me know if i need to tag anything else

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (14)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

Rage... A sudden outburst of this emotion can turn a man into a real beast. A lot of things can make you get angry. Most often, it’s when someone is attacking your loved ones. And when you end up finding those responsible... let's say doctors have a hard time repairing some of the body members.

But when rage takes a narcissistic and sadistic assassin like Danny... Well, it's like you're treating of beast... A beast. He had spent the whole night looking for the one who stabbed you, thinking and imagining how he would take care of his "guest". He wasn't angry because that man wanted to steal the show by killing you, no... He was DRUNK with rage because that filthy bastard wanted to KILL you. If there's someone who has to scare you... if there is someone who has to hurt you... if there is someone who has to kill you... That's him. him and him ONLY.

He had fallen asleep in his office, passing his rage on the photo of McKellan who was unrecognizable, the knife planted on McKellan's forehead. He was lying on the couch with his glasses resting on the little table next to him, a plaid serving as a blanket. He moaned slightly and moved a little in all directions. Like when a child has a nightmare. And he had one. He remembered the long corridors, the nurses and doctors who passed through the rooms, the patients who were lying in their beds, others in wheelchairs and.... That door. This room: number 012. That's where she was... that's where she...

“Danny...”  

He awoke startling, drops of sweat beading on his forehead, panting as if he had run a marathon. The simple fact of having seen the façade of the hospital in which you are... brought him back bad memories. He thought he would never go back, he never wanted to go back... and yet... He got up, left his office to go into the bathroom, and put some water on his face. He needed to wake up. As he wiped his face with a towel, his phone rang. Mattew or Melina, probably.

“Hello?” Danny said, his voice sounded tired.  

“Hi Jed...it’s me Mattew... I know it's a silly question after what happened yesterday but...how are you? You seem tired. I don't mind you, do I?” said Mattew embarrassed.

“You never bother me, you know that. I... let's say I had better nights... I'm worried about (Y/N) . Even though I know she's safe there. How about you?”

“I didn't sleep better than you if it makes you feel better... Neither did Melina. The boss called me... you don't need to come to work if you don't have the strength. You can work quietly at home until you feel able to come back.” replied Mattew.  

“That's nice of him... I'll be back on Monday morning... I think I'll take advantage of this weekend to... to clear my mind. And go and see her. Until she got out of the hospital.” said Danny, rubbing his eyes.

“Do you feel able to go on your own? Do you want us to come with you? Because yesterday you were completely... paralyzed at the thought of getting inside.

If only you knew the reason, poor man...that's way too personal for Danny to talk about. But if he ever has to talk about it... there is one person, whom he "judges" worthy of being aware of.... It's you. Of course, he'll have to change two or three little things.

“Jed?” ask Mattew on the other line.  

“Sorry, I was somewhere else. I promised her I would go and see her. Then I'd go. Don't worry about me. I think I'll be fine on my own. I’m sorry but, I have things to do before I go to see her. Say hello to everyone for me. And don't forget to tell the boss.” respond Danny.

“Sure! Rest well Jeddy! See you Monday then!”

Danny hung up before returning to his office, putting on his glasses and removing the knife from his hunting board. He observed the photo, at least what was left of it, a bad look, but a crazy smile on his face. Oh, when he finally gets his hands on him... He's going to torture him like never before. A slow, painful, unbearable agony, before slaughtering him, tearing his skin, making him so unrecognizable that no one will be able to approach his corpse without immediately throwing up on him. He will no longer have the skin on his bones... it will only be a putrefaction heap.

Mike was a work of art... But McKellan will become a masterpiece. A bloody, twisted, disturbing masterpiece. The most beautiful trace of his existence, the most beautiful signature of Ghostface. And when it's over... He will ensure that no one comes near you. As I said, Danny does not share what belongs to him. And he intends to make it clear.

It's amazing that we found the headless body of the dealer but not the body of Mike as well as the photos... and his basement of fantasies. Danny had worked on it more than on the other and he felt a bit vexed. But sooner or later...someone will find him. And with the bloody arrows Danny left on the walls, he's not going to get lost. It's so nice of him that he surprises himself.  

Well... it's time for him to get ready, he said he'd come to see you, and he will. But first he had to go to the police station, witnessing what happened, the police asked him to come to hear his testimony as well as the description of your attacker. If only they knew who they were going to welcome, just thinking they were getting a poor witness... It's no longer taunting the police at this level, it's this openly mocking them.

And then he's going to do something he hasn't done in years... buy a bouquet of flowers. For you. Even if the beauty of the flowers will never surpass yours. His sweet little angel. What kind of friend would "Jed" be to you if he came with nothing? Of course, you wouldn't mind, but for Danny who has studied other people's stupid behaviours, bringing flowers is always well seen. And "Jed" is supposed to behave like that.

He tied his hair, put his glasses back in place, took his bag and left his apartment to go to his van. It’s not the desire that he lacked to go sneak into your apartment but, the police of this small town are not very friendly when the person they summon doesn’t respect the schedules. And for the moment he must not draw suspicions on him. Brush the police in the direction of the hair during the day, provoke them and humiliate them at night. So far, that's what he's always done. And that always worked.  

The police station... hmph. For Danny, getting in is like letting the wolf into the sheepfold, or a demon going to heaven. How ironic... But funny. He pushed the door and went to the reception to show his summons. The policeman showed him the way and knocked on the door of the man who was handling the case: Inspector Daniel Wilhelm. What a surprise... Wilhem was also in charge of the Ghostface murders... It's a small world. Or he did it on purpose.

“Inspector Wilhem...” said Danny with a smirk.

“Jed Olsen... Of all the witnesses who could have been there... You must have been in the heap. Are you going to follow me until I die?”

“I can turn the question over to you... But you didn't summon me to talk about coincidences and fate, did you?”  

“No. Take a seat. Coffee?” said Wilhelm turning his back on Danny to serve himself a cup of coffee.

“No thanks.”  

Wilhelm relocated to his office, taking out all the necessary to record the testimony and called a graphic designer for the description of the suspect. Danny told everything that had happened this morning, down to the smallest detail. Wilhelm asked questions as he went to see if there was a special connection between you and your attacker. Then came the portrait of the aggressor that Danny described without any problem, this idiot had his face completely uncovered... Amateur. The whole thing lasted many hours and once the graphic designer left and the deposition signed, Danny put his stuff in his bag.

“You said you suspect a certain... McKellan to be the instigator of this... attempted murder. Do you have any proof of that? Because such an accusation can cost you dearly if you're wrong, Olsen.” said Wilhelm looking at the file and then Danny.

“Well, he threatened her for a simple order that she could not carry out; And I know that this man is not the type to stop at the legal means to get satisfaction.” said Danny without looking away from the inspector.

“Always sticking your nose all over Olsen.... You're worse than a weasel. It will also cost you dearly one day …"  

“If it's to allow people to discover the truth down to the smallest detail, even the most disturbing, I don't give a shit about dying, Wilhelm...”

“Tsk...By the way Mike Harris' name must be familiar to you, right? It seems to me that he was working with you... Do you know if he had any connection to drug trafficking?”  

“I don't get myself into the lives of my colleagues... but recently I learned that he had big addiction problems, which would explain why he went after me and my colleagues... Why this question?”

“We found the headless body of a guy last night... autopsy revealed a high level of cocaine... and apparently after doing some research, we discover that he was a dealer and Mike was one of his regular clients. But if you don't know... I'm not going to hold you any longer. You can leave Olsen.”

Danny got up and left the police station after shaking Wilhelm's hand. Once outside, he insulted Wilhelm in a low voice before getting in the car and going to buy flowers. Then he drove to Zanesville Hospital. He went to the reception where he asked for your room number. He remained frozen for a few seconds when the young woman in the reception told him that you were in room 012...They say history repeats itself but... that's too much.

What are the chances that two people from his entourage, two women, will end up in the hospital, in the same room? knowing that this happens years after she... Danny clutched the bouquet in his hands and inhaled deeply before knocking on the door of your room. He waited for you to allow him to enter, to open the door and face you, his eternal angelic smile on his lip.

“Jed! I’m glad to see you!”  you said happily, as if nothing had happened.

“Hey...” he starts before giving the bouquet of flowers. “I'm not an expert in flowers... and I don't know your tastes but... I thought you'd like iris flowers.”

“Hawn you’re so sweet...you don’t have to Jed...Thank you. Don’t stay there, take a sit!” you said, taking gently the bouquet from his hands. “So, how are you? I must have worried a lot of people... I'm sorry.”  

“For what? To have been stabbed? Even if you didn't do anything or say nothing?  you don't have to apologize. And... I should ask you the question: How are you? What did the doctors say?”  

“I was lucky... the doctors took me just in time. The blade didn’t hit any vital points fortunately. Normally tomorrow or the day after tomorrow I could go out. But I'll have to be careful and not make too much effort. I owe you my life... Once again.”

“Good...You don’t have to thank me; you would have done the same for me. Mattew and Melina told me to say hello to you. they didn't sleep better than me.”

You talk for hours. Laughing about everything and nothing. That laugh... Danny could hear it for hours. And see you with that smile... that angel's smile. it reminded him of those same moments he spent with her. History repeats itself... but compared to her... You're alive and you're going out. But all good things have an end. And the time for Danny to leave came. He got up and prepared to leave when he felt your hand holding his arm.

“You... Will you be back tomorrow? I'd love to talk with you again.” you ask like a little child.  

“...Of course. Rest well.” he said, heading to the door before he stops and turn to you. “By the way who was this man...Parkson?”  

“Oh...He...He’s my banker! I told him I would call him when I was settled and ...as it had been a while, he preferred to travel in person to see me. I know it's not common but... He's a little weird. But I can trust him. Just like I trust you.” you respond with a smile.

Danny nodded and, waving his hand, he left the room and then the hospital. He still had a lot... A lot to do. He was not going to go after your attacker, knowing that Inspector Wilhelm had his robot portrait... But a little visit to McKellan's house couldn't hurt. And he's going to leave him a little passing gift. Nothing very extravagant... a little bloody on the edges... But something simple. or maybe go back to the traditional method of phone calls?

In any case, don’t face a man until you know all the details about him. A little surveillance in the middle of the night, that's Danny's favorite activity. He got into his van and went home to pick up his other bag. The one that contained his outfit and his mask. No Ghostface for you tonight... Too bad. But don't worry, you'll have plenty of time to make up for lost time when you're in your apartment.  

He picked up his mail, went back to his apartment, put his belongings in his office and then picked up his other bag to leave. He went back on the road to McKellan's house, he had carefully searched for his place of residence, which frankly is not very hard to find. Look for Roseville's most eye-catching home and you'll know this is where McKellan lives. Quite isolated from everything and everyone which did not surprise Danny, when you saw the oversized ego of this rich rotten up to the marrow.

He parked in the little corner of the forest that hid his van to perfection, put on his outfit and mask before getting out of the vehicle. He observed the building that stood in the distance, the mad look and a bad smile on his face. Tonight, is not your time McKellan... You're lucky...

But soon...The devil will come and get his prize...

Your screams and your death.

***

(And it’s done! My head hurts as if a monkey had taken me for a bongo. But everything's fine! I'll be able to rest on my weekend! hoping you'll like this chapter! See ya!)

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

[pebblysand]

OF CRYSTAL ROSES (EXTENDED AUTHOR’S NOTE OF CHAPTER VI. OF CASTLES)

-- TO READ THE CHAPTER ITSELF, SEE HERE ON AO3 --

well, well, well. here we are. spoiler alert, gryffindors make plans they don’t stick to, lolz. all the good intentions in the world, i had. study, i said i would. yet, here were find ourselves, eighteen thousand words later. this appears to be how i roll. slept about five hours last night, too, so apologies if i’m slightly non-sensical/rambly. this chapter ought to be sponsored by deliveroo and teapigs tea, a brand of tea that appeared in my local supermarket a few moths ago and that i steadily refused to buy because - can tea really be worth this much? low and behold, once you’ve tried it once, it appears to be addictive. i’ve, while writing this chapter, worked my way through about four packs of their different teas - they are just this good. i have a job interview tomorrow so wish me luck in gaining employment which will hopefully fund my expensive habits.

now, before we get into the nitty gritty of the chapter, itself, i just needed to say this: i cannot thank everyone enough for the incredible response on last chapter. i’d kind of grown accustomed to getting a couple of reviews for each of them and to writing in my little corner of the internet but boy, you guys are bloody legends! i am so overwhelmed with gratitude for everyone who commented, kudo-ed and generally gave love to this fic in general. i really didn’t expect such a response and it’s meant the world to me. i think it’s probably also the reason why i’m posting so early because i kept being like, god, i can’t leave this many people waiting in this cliffhanger hell. i think this chapter ends on a more positive note (although, i’ll let you judge), one that might be more conducive of a few weeks’ wait (more on that below), haha.

this being said, as i explained on here before, i come from very tiny fandoms where basically everyone knows each other and the number of people reading would usually fit in my flat. the fact that over 80 people are now subscribed to this fic just blows my fucking mind. you’re all magnificent and i love you. i try to respond to all the comments so let’s keep chatting if you feel like it (although, no pressure - comment if you want to, but do know that it makes me very happy when you do :)). you’re all fabulous and i wish you all the best!

anyway, spoilers for castles, chapter vi under the cut.

guys, guys, guys, i am so tired. i’ve spent four days editing almost 20,000 words and my brain is fried. but, we are officially at the halfway point of this story, yaaaay!!! my plan, at this point, is that we’ll have six chapters on each side but even if i do end up splitting this one later (more on this below) i’ll end up with seven chapters on each side so either way - yay to the end of act 1!

i think that’s also why i tried to turn this chapter around this quickly. to me, i always kind of saw this fic as having two parts. part 1: the immediate post-war aftermath with the heartache and the love-fast/burn-fast start to harry/ginny. part 2: a slow and actually healthy rebuild of their relationship, and of the world around them. i have genuinely been writing towards that last harry/ginny scene in this chapter for months. it feels like such a relief to finally have that weight off my shoulders. and i actually do think it’ll allow me to focus on study later. act one is finished, and act two can wait a bit, i suppose.

now, obviously, given that i already apologised last time, part of me still wants to apologise for the length of this chapter, even more so, actually. it sits at about 18,000 words which, by nanowrimo’s standards, is over a third of a full book, wtf. yet, you guys also said last time that you didn’t actually mind long chapters, so perhaps i shouldn’t beat myself up too much?

as i said in the a/n, this is a little bit of different set up than chapter v. though. i know exactly where to split this. as you’ve probably seen by now, there’s a very natural split point after harry has his breakdown on the couch with ginny, before Christmas properly "starts." the reason i didn’t split this one there, though is: a) selfish: i needed to get this out. stop working on it. i need to study. when it’s out, i’m not thinking about it anymore. it would have been a bit non sensical to split this just for the sake of it and post two chapters at once, which means i probably would have held onto the second part for another couple of weeks, and fuck that. additionally, b) you may not have noticed this but: the chapter titles rhyme. why did i bring this additional difficulty upon myself, i do not fucking know. especially because i will soon run out of one-word construction materials to draw from, lol. as a result, though, i need an even number of chapters to close out this story and because i’m sort of planning six chapters from now to the end (more on that below) i can’t really split this one right now. like, if i end up with another overlong chapter in the next few months, i probably will take that opportunity and go back and split this one, just for readability. but at this stage, at this stage, because i don’t know how many chapters i’ll have for act two (six or seven), i’m keeping this chapter like this for the time being. i kind of hope i end up with seven chapters on the other side and am able to split this one down the line, but we will see. in the meantime, my most sincere apologies to the folks who read fanfiction before bed and it’s now 4 am by the time you’ve finished this. i’ve been there before, believe me.

from a personal standpoint, though, i have to say, this chapter (compared to the last one) was incredibly easy to write. i think i’d spent so much time imagining and writing these scenes in my head as kind of a culminating point for the first half of the story, that it quite simply poured out. i did have a little bit of an everything is shit crisis yesterday and today, but sure look, that always happens. overall, i am quite happy - i think - with the end result.

now, when i say "easy to write" i mean, technically, easy to find words to write down what was in my head. i do not mean: easy to write on an emotional level. oh boy. i’m generally not a crier. i have been asked, a number of times, by people who said my writing made them cry: do you cry when you write, too? and my answer was always ‘no’. i don’t judge, but i’m just not that kind of person. i know people who cry every day but personally, we are in the middle of a pandemic, my father recently passed away, i’ve lost my job and am studying for an exam my life is pretty dependent upon, and i haven’t cried in months. yet, i swear, there were a couple of times, both writing this and editing it, when i had to step away from the screen because i could feel a lump in my throat. that had never happened to me before. i didn’t, like, bawl or anything but god i felt it. i don’t know if it’s because it’s my first time killing an oc, someone who was really mine but boy. giulia. i kept trying to find ways not to kill her, or apologising to her. to me, she’s tom’s last victim and that really, fucking hurts. if you’re hurting too, i don’t really know what to tell you. i’m sorry, i suppose. her death was needed for … plot purposes, lol. god, i’m the worst haha.

re:harry/ginny: i must say i really like where they end up, at the end of this. i had planned this to a certain extent. i was always under the impression that they would talk over christmas, but not get back together. however, the reason why they weren’t getting back together, in my head, was initially quite different. i initially didn’t have ginny dating someone else. i think i mentioned i was toying with the idea in the a/n for last chapter, but at the time i wasn’t truly sold on it. then, i ended up writing the scene i’d originally planned for them and it didn’t quite fit. what i’d planned, at the time, felt rather ooc for ginny when actually on paper. on the other hand, harry, under my fingertips, kept trying to kiss her and i kept hitting the delete button. i swear, i know it sounds weird to people who might not be writers but sometimes, your characters really do seem to have their own agendas. when i caved, let him kiss her, then the scene took on a different meaning, and, i hope, a better one. i think something clicked there and it feels like a good place for act one to end. obviously, they’ll get back together cause this follows cannon so you know, not much suspense there. it’s more about the how than the what, to me.

re:ginny’s letters: this idea came to me a while ago, actually. i was thinking that they’d need to talk about what happened last year, but i was kind of struggling on the how. having character a tell a story to character b is always a bit difficult, in writing, because it can quickly end up being boring. like, when ginny tells harry about christmas last year and lupin, in this chapter, telling that in dialogue is already rather long an laborious, and it’s overall such a short story. for harry, it’s easy. i’m in his head so he can just say ‘he told her about the hallows’ and the dialogue can be about their reaction, rather than the events itself. but ginny, she needs to share facts, as well as feelings. and doing that through long monologues just didn’t appeal. first, it’s quickly boring and second, it’s also kind of ooc. she’s not giulia, you see.

i did entertain the idea of completely skimming past it. ‘she told him about last year and he was horrified.’ - moving on. but, i don’t know, that didn’t feel quite right either, because i think they need to exchange, and talk, and that just felt like a copout. also, to be honest, it’s a very difficult story to tell. like, i’ve seen people in fics being like ‘so, harry sat down all of the weasleys and told them everything the trio did in seventh year,’ and i’m like that’s so difficult, though. sitting someone down and telling them all about your trauma, with little preamble, just setting it all out there, i can’t imagine ginny (or, frankly, most people) actually doing that, you know? we reveal bits of ourselves bit by bit, not all at once.

then, it hit me: she’s a writer, isn’t she? at least, she is canonically in first year, with not only the diary but also the poems, then writing for the prophet. obviously, the diary thing would have riled her up a bit but i do think in the end, she would probably have been like: no, i won’t let him take writing away from me, you know? so yeah, letters. daily letters. you won’t see all of them in next chapter, but probably quotes from the most important ones, things that harry reads. that’s where he gets his facts about her story last year, and then they can focus on their feelings about it. fab! something to look forward to, haha.

now, re: the future. as i said, we are entering act two. act two will gradually become more "fun" and fluffy, i suppose, but i won’t lie, we will be keeping the same happy/sad vibe that a lot of you have commented on with this fic. it exists for a reason (as i said, life is about sex, but it’s also about funerals). as i said before, this fic is, above all, an exploration of what ‘all was well’ actually means.

this being said, this isn’t an 8th year fic. there is a very specific future pov from which this fic is being narrated, and that’s in october 2027 (i know, precise). obviously i have 28 years to get through in act two so that will affect the way that the timeline is designed. it will obviously be more spread out, especially in the later chapters. this being said, while i have about a million of ideas for all the space in between and a very clear view of what the last chapter will be, the exact layout of each chapter is still slightly blurry. i haven’t sat down to put all my ideas in chronological order yet, as well as into some sort of chapter structure, which is also why i can’t really tell if it’ll be six or seven chapters in the end. all of this to say, there’s still quite a bit of work to be done.

this means that, as i said in the a/n, i don’t think you’ll get next chapter until at least, may. please don’t think that this means i’ll be abandoning this fic or anything, it’s just that i’ll be doing work you probably won’t see. i’m probably going to take the rest of march off writing to study (bar maybe a roar-series Harry&Hermione friendship one shot? maybe) then take april to plan and write as much of the next chapters i possibly can. ideally, by the end of april i can have a first draft of the whole thing. i desperately want to write as much as i can now that I’m jobless in the hopes that when i do find a job (again, interview tomorrow, pray for me), i can just have editing to do at the weekends. but we all know i relate to harry on a very deep level when he says ‘when have our plans ever worked, anyway?’ so we will see, haha.

anyway, these were all the thoughts off the top of my head, re: this chapter. if you have any questions or other things you’d like me to ramble about, feel free to send in questions, my ask box is always open. i know i probably think about this fic (and hp) way too much but i’m an extrovert and my hobbies used to include travelling, pints at the pub, dating and, well, there’s none of that anymore, is there, lol? the uk has stolen our vaccines (fucking brexit) so here’s to being obsessed with fictional worlds i wish i could live in for a while longer,

i will now go and endlessly refresh my email for reviews and kudos, like the attention seeking basic bitch i am haha.

have a fab evening, everyone!

#castles #is out baby #whoop whoop

[ambersky0319]

Dumb idea from a tired Rayne: Logan, who doesn't want to date Roman, keeps telling him "___ and then maybe I'll date you" so later you have Roman looking practically like a fucking clown as he tries to recite Shakespeare in full garbwhile also trying to speak in a perfect accents with the mind palace looking like a galaxy, only for Roman to find out after while he was practicing his brother and Deceit asked Logan out and he said yes, and he tried to tell Roman but he refused to listen.

This doesn’t have a happy ending, but it’s also not a bad ending?

Ships : One-sided Logince, Platonic Logince, Romantic Intruloceit

Warnings : Leading people on, miscommunication, let me know if there's anything else that I should add!

Masterpost 

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

It wasn't that Logan didn't like Roman. He did, in complete honesty, Logan loved spending time with Roman, he loved being Roman's friend. But that's where it ended.

Being Roman's friend.

So when Roman confessed that he had feelings for Logan, he didn't know what to do. How do you reject someone, and then say it's because he just got into a relationship with said someone's brother and his partner?

But that's the thing. Logan tried to say that. But every time he got near the answer 'no' Roman would fall into another round of rambling that lasted anywhere between five to twenty minutes. It got to the point that Logan just... Gave up on trying to outright reject him.

Instead, he started giving Roman impossible tasks to do.

He didn't expect it to backfire so terribly on him though.

Logan sighed loudly as he collapsed onto the couch within the dark commons, right by Deceit who set his book down to console his annoyed boyfriend. Remus was nowhere to be found, probably in the Imagination. Logan just wished he could cuddle them both right now, that would surely cheer him up.

Deceit gently pulled him into his arms, pressing soft kisses to his temple as he started to massage Logan, slowly drawing circles on his back. Logan made a soft, strangled noise as he curled closer to Deceit.

"What's happened now?" Deceit hummed. He and Remus knew of Logan's predicament, and both knowing how well Roman took rejection, weren't able to give Logan any ideas on how to tell Roman that he wasn't interested, not without letting their own relationship slip.

"He- He actually learned Latin and performed not five, but ten original poems! And! He actually changed his sash to that awful gray that he hates!" Logan let his head fall into Deceit's neck, huffing and shaking his head.

"I told him that he needs to perform an entire Shakespeare play all by himself looking like Pennywise using time-accurate accents and in garb and that the entire mind palace must look like a galaxy."

Deceit began threading his fingers through Logan's hair. "What are you going to do if he actually succeeds in this one?"

"Honestly?" Deceit hummed in confirmation. "I have no fucking clue."

Silence filled the dark commons for a long while. Logan was far less tense now but refused to move out of Deceit's lap. Not that Deceit minded. But then Deceit broke the comforting quiet.

"Remus and I were talking earlier, about maybe to put a stop to this we just... All come out."

Logan shifted only slightly, frowning against Deceit's neck. "I thought that's what we were trying to avoid?"

"Well, we've been dating for what, four months now? And Roman has been doing this for about three. No matter how the others react, we'll stay together, and Roman can work on moving on and accepting that you aren't interested." Deceit continued to run his fingers through Logan's hair, no knots remained but he knew it was helping Logan relax. "We're ready to come out. If you aren't though, that's fine, and Remus and I can always help you come up with something-"

Before Deceit could finish, there was a crash as the Imagination door slammed open, and Remus came stumbling down the stairs cursing up a storm.

"Remus?" Logan asked hesitantly when Remus started to tug at his hair and pace. Remus barely glanced at them.

"I fucked up, guys I fucked up royally- Roman's pissed, he's so incredibly pissed oh my god, guys-"

"Hey, hey, Remus," Logan shifted out of Deceit's arms a bit for the first time in quite a while. "Come sit down, and maybe explain what happened?"

Remus did, settling down on Deceit's other side and welcoming the embrace from both Logan and Deceit. He then went on to explain how Roman had unconsciously wandered into Remus's part of the Imagination, where Remus had been talking with Hope about Deceit and Logan, getting suggestions from Hope on how to handle the situation if Logan didn't want to tell anyone yet. He described how Roman now knew that they were all together, and how he looked so incredibly heartbroken but also so pissed, and Remus wasn't able to tell if it was at Remus and Deceit, or Logan.

Once he was done, Logan groaned loudly, head falling back to hide in Deceit's shoulder. He said something, but it was muffled by Deceit's shirt. Remus clung to Logan, burrowing his face in Logan's hair. "Maybe we can just give Roman amnesia, y'know, and no one will know!"

"I don't think giving your brother a concussion is a good idea, Remus."

"At least it's an idea!"

Logan shook his head, taking a deep breath. "No, I'm going to have to talk with him. But... but I think I'll talk to Roman tomorrow. Hopefully he'll be willing to listen, I doubt he will be right now."

"You sure, Lo?"

Logan nodded, moving so he could press a light kiss to Remus's cheek. "I just really want to spend time with you both. And maybe this'll be safer."

"Alright..."

-

The next morning, Logan rose up in front of Roman's room. It was too early for Patton or Virgil to be awake, but Roman often got up around the same time as Logan. He knocked lightly on the door, and it took a minute and Logan was just about to knock again when he heard a lock click and the door slowly opened. Logan bit his lip as he felt his heart figuratively break at the sight before him, Roman with irritated eyes and hair so tangled one brush would never be able to help tame it. He looked so pale, too, and he wobbled slightly in place as he processed just who was at his door.

When it finally caught up to him that it was Logan, Roman attempted to shut the door. But Logan stuck his foot out to stop it. "We really need to talk-"

"I don't want to see you, Logan."

"Please, Roman?"

". . ."

"I just want to explain things. You don't need to actually respond, but you need to hear me out. And then, if you no longer want to be friends, then I'll just leave you alone from now on. I won't even take long, I just need five minutes."

Roman hesitated, before sighing in defeat and he sulked back into his room, letting Logan enter. He sat on the bed and just stared at Logan. "Five minutes. Go."

Logan took a deep breath. "First, I wanted to apologize. It was wrong of me to lead you on like I did, getting your hopes up that I might reciprocate your feelings when in fact I wasn't only not interested, but was seeing other sides.

"Next, the only reason why I kept doing that is because any time I tried to tell you no, or that I wasn't interested, you would cut me off, or refuse to listen. I tried each and every time to get you to listen and I failed, so I gave you more and more ridiculous tasks thinking you would eventually give up. And then you didn't. And I just had no idea what to do, because I still wanted to be frends, I love being friends with you, but I don't like you how you like me and I just- I'm um, I'm just really sorry, Roman."

Logan held his breath as he watched Roman for any reaction, holding Roman's gaze. Roman took in a shuddering breath, before glancing to the side, frown tugging at his lips.

"And you were with my brother and Deceit the entire time...?"

"... Yes."

Roman closed his eyes for a moment, processing everything that Logan had said. When it seemed that he finally did, he exhaled slowly, still not looking at Logan.

"I'm still mad, Logan, I'm still hurt. But... But I don't want to not have you in my life. I still want you around. It wouldn't be the same with you gone- and I- fuck, Logan, I'm sorry for not listening... I should have, this all could've been avoided." Roman held his head in his hands. "Just... can, can we come back to this in a few days?"

Logan nodded hastily. Roman glanced at him for a moment before looking back down at the floor. "I'll see you later, Logan."

Logan hugged himself as he left Roman's room, summoning a water bottle for him before he left. God, this wasn't how he wanted things to turn out...

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#logince #intruloceit #one-sided logince #romantic intruloceit #platonic logince #logan sanders #remus sanders #deceit sanders #roman sanders #ts roman #ts logan #ts remus #ts deceit #ts sides #sanders sides #sympathetic roman #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #sympathetic logan #miscommunication #leading on #ambersky ask #amberskywrites #ask #dante #dante anon #prompt #angst #Logince angst

[taikeero-lecoredier]

i literally feel like I’m getting punished for being such a procrastinator

Back in 2017,I had such an overflowing energy to discuss septic egos/ mark egos ideas and stories with my friend.And because I was such a procrastinator,i never ended up drawing or making fanfics out of those storied,despite me saying stuff like “oh i should draw that”I feel like I missed so many opportunities,and this year,despite me saying I’d create more (which I still intend to do) i feel like..I’m too late.The community seems to be tearing itself from the inside,people dont want to be associated with Sean anymore (i dont wanna go into the specifics again,and honestly,i cant blame them for wanting to do that) and so many people recently would rather turn their versions of the egos into ocs rather than keep them as egos on their own (which,again,i understand,as its a different sort of outlet to use your creativity flow,so all the more power to you,im not making this post to bash people turning the egos into ocs,itd be so fucking ridiculous)But I cant help but feel so distressed by all of this.Because before,people weren’t turning away like that en masse. Like many people,I also ask myself this question.What hapenned?Why is this happening? I’d rather see people saying they lost interest and move on,rather than leaving because they resent Sean,or JSE stuff in general.It would be such a better ending to this. And now,that im planning on thinking off art events to let people go wild with their creativity with the JSE egos,people are leaving. And..it hurts.And i regret so much not starting interacting more with people sooner. I feel guilty. I’m not planning on leaving or disconnecting myself form the septic egos myself anytime soon,but its just so painful to watch. I’ll never regret joining the fandom,because through this,I was able to meet some of my best friends. (You know who you are,and I love you guys so much) It just stings so much that,a place that used to be so warm,and welcoming,and full or fun stuff is turning up like this,because of multiple factors. And I have the bad(???) habit to try and reassure EVERYONE I come across being sad regarding this situation that “hey,maybe its just a bad moment!Maybe things are super shitty right now,but since things can’t stay the same forever,surelly that must mean there’s still hope,right?” Right? But people can only stay hopeful for so long.And who can blame them? Im just..so sad,and tired. And now that i’m kicking myself in the butt so I can actually do something with the egos,and that i’m seeing what’s happening with the fandom,its like I’m being told: “Aha!Too late!You waited for too long to get moving and do something with your ideas,and now everyone is leaving because of those bad stuff happening!Its your fault for not starting to draw or write seriously earlier!!Too bad!!You should have created when things were good and stable before!Sucker” Thats literally what i’m feeling right now,and its literally eating me away. I feel a bit bad making this post after I just talked to my friends about this,and they already gave me advice,like stop going in the jse tag,and other things,but.. ... I hate making people worry because of stuff I feel,but If i keep bottling things up,its just gonna explode at some point. Im sorry for posting this in the main tag,but ..I just..I just want for those who are unaware to.. be aware of what’s happening. I really,really want people to understand. Some people don’t understand why people are upset toward Sean.Or why they’re unhappy with the community. Its simply because people who brought up genuine concerns are sometimes being bashed by others who can’t stand seeing negavitity,despite being in their right to speak about those issues in a civil manner. People who speak up get unfairly placed in the same category of those “hateful tea blogs” who treat people who still have hope in Sean/are still in the fandom as the literal devil. (and other stuff,but Im too done to talk about these blogs in depths) For a fandom that was so accepting,encouraging,and welcoming?It feels bad to see so what’s happening.I feel bad. I feel even more bad when i remember that one person,who was such a sweetheart,and so creative with the egos.What would she think of this situation if she were still here? Would she have stayed regardless?Would have she turned her versions of the egos into ocs?Would she have resented Sean and left completely?Or would she have made some uplifting and hopeful posts? I dont know.I’ll never know. i miss her. I miss the old times. ... So please..We can’t rely on jack to make everything all better in the community,it seems.So.. Please. Let people who are worried speak up in peace.Don’t put them in the same basket as those who shit on jse fans and put down sean just for the sake of putting him down. Let them speak. And please,don’t pull the “If you dont like Sean anymore than fucking leave/stop watching him if you dont like the content” when they’re literally calmly saying “Hey i dont like [x] thing Sean did recently.I’d like for him to adress this tbh!” This. This would be the first step toward a better future for the community,if you stopped doing this. Please stop driving nice people away from the fandom by doing this. Please. I want 2020 to be a good year. People should be allowed to criticize things Sean does respectfully.it does not equal hate automatically. ..This is starting to be long. So i’ll just end by saying..For those who wish to stay regardless of this amdness..Don’t hesiate to send me asks okay?..I want to keep enjoying the egos.And seeing people’s creations.I will always give feedback and reblog if i see an edit,fic,art,etc,that i like. I will get that prompt list done.I swear.In the meantime..Stay safe,keep creating and..

Be civil.

#jse critical #jse cc #jse constructive criticism #jsecrit #negativity #taike speaks #taikeero-lecoredier #vent #jacksepticeye #i cant just leave #i cant #long post #the egos means too much to me #i cant separtate myself totally from them or sean #i really cant #but i could always separate me from sean and enjoy the egos however i want #withotu turnign them into ocs #cuz if i do that #then theyre not the same characetrs i loved to gush about before #how ironic that thuis pma mentality is becoming the downfall of this place.. #hhh #i ca #nt sotp crying about this

[five-wow]

here are some thoughts from my (first, somewhat late) watch of 10.15!

we start off with adam intimidating a minion and threatening his life while they’re reburying three bodies. cool. this is totally something he can come back from.

joanna! danny’s mystery woman has a name! i very vaguely caught some annoyance/confusion about her name here on tumblr because apparently somewhere else (outside of the episodes, i assume?) she’d been called something else, if i understood correctly? but seeing as i missed most of that, i’m honestly just glad she has a name now.

also! joanna texting her sister/friend (i don’t really know who she is for sure?) that she met a guy at a bar - thank god, tbh, because last episode it looked like she just randomly had sex with a stranger (which is fine) and then got into his car to let him drive her home (which is not fine, because we may know danny is an okay guy, but she had no earthly way of knowing that).

“it wasn’t your fault. you did everything you could. it means a lot to me that you’re here.” kudos to sister/friend for not falling into the trap of blaming danny and piling onto his guilt subplot!

STEVE is WAITING OUTSIDE when danny leaves the morgue, oh god. that makes total sense and i’m glad for it, but i somehow didn’t expect them to show that.

steve: “you wanna talk about it?” nothing super clever to say here, but it just make me really, really happy every single time steve asks danny if he wants to talk about something (or just pushes him into it, ocassionally) because!! that’s good!! that’s healthy!! that’s a really good friendship, and i’m proud of steve. (on a slightly related note, i’ve been watching a lot of 9-1-1 and reading some fic and while a lot of that fic is really fun, i kind of feel like many of the writers in that fandom give eddie at least double the capability to deal with emotional turmoil in himself or others that he is shown to have in canon. eddie diaz is basically what danny sometimes accuses steve of being, only eddie is actually closed off and struggling with repressing everything he ever feels that much, and steve has by this point had years to learn healthier ways of coping and he is not that person anymore, at all. he knows how to talk about emotions and he does it, too, and the funny thing is that i’m pretty sure he learned a lot of that by making danny talk to him about danny’s emotions, which steve did all the time right from the very start because he cares about danny and wants him to be mentally happy and healthy, and tl;dr, steve and danny’s friendship makes them both happier, more emotionally stable people and that makes me emotional.)

tani teaching a class at the police academy and bonnie (grover’s niece) absolutely acing all her classes and tani and bonnie hanging out and getting lunch together and tani subtly mentoring bonnie IS ALL VERY GOOD.

fdjfkdjkfd oh god. i was so happy with this scene and then suddenly bonnie has a boyfriend and it’s the dude who buried bodies with adam a moment ago. so... is he a bad guy (i hope not, because i’m already a little tired at the idea of another cool female character getting in trouble all the time because she’s dating yakuza and that’s for some reason the most interesting thing the writers could think to do with her), or is he undercover? is adam undercover? are they BOTH undercover but they don’t know it about the other guy so they just keep committing crimes to look like badass criminals when really they’re just both trying to catch the other in a seriously bad crime?

oh god, there’s this whole scene with the academy recruits on the shooting range and tani keeps drilling them on shooting faster (which i have... thoughts about, too, but let’s not get into that) and they make it really explicit that bonnie is the fastest and definitely faster than her boyfriend and this, uh, really looks like foreshadowing for bonnie ending up having to draw her weapon on the boyfriend at some point.

adam to lou: “thanks for the coffee date.” i must say, very unexpected ship they’re pushing now. :p

adam: [starts saying things, possibly making up excuses] lou: “no, no, come on, you don’t have to explain anything to me.” let the man talk, lou!!! if you don’t want to hear it, i do.

ahhhh, lou is keeping adam occupied while steve searches adam’s apartment. things are making more sense now. (though lou does call steve to tell him to wrap things up like a minute after his coffee date with adam started, and also at most a dozen feet away from adam where chances are definitely above zero of adam being able to hear him, fjdkdf.)

steve had “a feeling” about adam. no need to be so jealous, danny.

wait, wait, adam is back on five-0? i... they probably showed or mentioned that in a recent episode, i think, but apparently i’ve really just been turning my brain off during this subplot because i do not remember that at all. (this is why i like bingewatching things, because at least then i have a clearer picture of what happened in the episodes right before, gosh.)

danny: “... but the point is that if i was a human being...” love it. love the subtle implication that danny is not a human being, but in fact an alien from new jersey, which as we all know is in outer space.

bonnie’s boyfriend is not officially bonnie’s boyfriend yet and she thinks he might be seeing someone on the side, and this is sad because as viewers we all know that that someone IS ADAM (and three dead guys). just not like that, though. probably.

bonnie: [tells tani her potential bf has two phones] tani: “hm, okay. this one’s easy: run.” YES. PLEASE DO.

quinn!!! i was starting to wonder if this was one of those mysteriously quinn-less episodes.

oh nooo, bonnie sneaks around potential bf’s house and then STEPS ON A TWIG. c’mon, girl.

fdjkfd the guys catch her and now i remember that this episode description said she was going to get kidnapped and adam would help get her back. this will be... interesting.

quinn’s awkward face while lou is yelling in surprise about bonnie having a boyfriend is absolute gold.

lou yells at tani for not telling him anything about the boyfriend yesterday but honestly, she does not deserve that.

also: all those dramatic shots on adam’s face, oh dear. is the rest of the team seeing that expression he has? are they seeing all these close-ups?

adam threatens his yakuza rival in an effort to help get bonnie back. is this supposed to be redemption for adam? i’m confused.

lou says it’s not tani’s fault and he apologizes! this is an episode of people realizing they shouldn’t put the blame on innocent bystanders (instead of one that attempts to heighten the drama by milking misplaced anger for all that it’s worth) and i like it.

siobhan has been tied up in some shed in the woods and endo (the potential boyfriend) is feeling bad about it but is unwilling to untie her, god. (quick detour, though: i’ve been wondering this since the beginning of the episode, but how is siobhan even at the hpd academy now? i was under the impression during her first appearance this season that she was in her last year of high school, so when did she even graduate?)

i do feel for endo (which i like! it’s cool to see a Bad Guy be not pure evil but believably conflicted), but leaving your almost-girlfriend in a cabin in the woods for your godfather to “take care of it” with a sad look and “i’m really sorry” is not the best of moves, my dude.

tani and quinn: we have good news! hpd intercepted endo and steve and lou are about to question him! adam: [sweats]

endo lies his ass off in interrogation which makes him interesting but also costs him a lot of sympathy points from my end.

lou pretty much assaults endo while he’s cuffed to a chair in the interrogation room. i get why these emotions make for good tv, but uh, hm, maybe five-0 should at some point consider a policy of not letting people who are personally involved in cases near suspects, because this does kind of seem to keep happening.

jfdkfd, adam confronts endo in lock-up, endo taunts him and says adam can’t tell anyone in five-0 what he knows because he’d have to tell them how he knows endo, the team finds out that endo has yakuza ties and go to confront endo about it and he’s gone. omfg, adam, how are you managing to fuck your own life up this effectively in such a short amount of time, after you fought all those years to get away from everything you’re doing now?

siobhan gets herself free!!! and then runs right into guys with guns outside the cabin, of course, because this is tv timing, but still, WELL DONE.

fdjkfdkjfd, adam’s brilliant plan to solve the situation is to call up the rival yakuza boss and threaten to kill his godson out of revenge. this is. this is maybe not a great idea.

adam: “in case you haven’t been paying attention, kenji, i’m not afraid of much these days.” oh adam, buddy, don’t brag about misplacing the entirety of your common sense.

the team is watching adam load endo into the back of a car on tape and it’s honestly kind of hilarious. steve asks danny how he would explain this and that’s hilarious, too, because they’re seeing their (ex-?)friend load a stolen suspect into a car to run off with him, thereby betraying all of them and everything they stand for, and steve is taking this opportunity to turn to danny and go “see, i was right”. fjdkfd.

steve’s gut says adam will come through for them in delivering siobhan, and we all know steve’s gut is secretly psychic, so that’s a spoiler. :p

and it does happen!!! i’m glad to see bonnie back in a safe place.

oh god. adam randomly appears from between the foilage to look serious and share a meaningful nod with steve. is he... is he officially on the other side now? they’re not still going to let him be part of five-0, are they?

domestic steve and danny in the(ir) kitchen!!! steve is giving eddie danny’s breakfast!!! and then there’s something about endo having hacked into hpd’s database, because of course they need to attach some ongoing threat to this, but honestly, who cares about plot when there’s “don’t shame my dog. i’m cooking you eggs, alright?” and danny saying steve doesn’t have to cook him eggs but steve already doing it anyway while danny is once again randomly sitting on the kitchen counter and steve cuts danny off before danny can request his eggs a little burned because steve already knows how danny likes his eggs, obviously, because steve is a stalker when it comes to danny. yes!! this is stuff i like a lot.

danny is saying he could probably get out of steve’s space soon and steve has the excuse of very intently (and yet somehow also very badly, it looks like) scrambling those eggs, but he’s also definitely, 100% avoiding looking at danny in that moment, and then he starts saying how there’s no paint yet and that’s bad and danny should stay. just. just move in together officially, you guys. just do it. nobody would be surprised. you know it would make both of you very happy. this is not even a ship thing, but just, oh my god, these two humans so clearly want to be in each other’s space and they keep coming up with excuses and getting this close to admitting that maybe neither of them wants danny to leave and then yelling at each other about eggs and how it’s not bacon day. it can be bacon day, steve. it could even be pancake day. it could be pancake day every day for the rest of your natural lives if you just told danny you wanted that.

overall, this was a very fun episode! i’m honestly just really happy with this season in general - quinn being added to the team does maybe not look like much progress on the subject of female characters, because she’s just one person, but there have been SO MANY scenes of her and tani together by now and genuinely, their friendship is healing my soul and watering my crops. i’m still not sure what to make of the adam subplot, but if they’re doing what it kind of looks like they’re doing - permanently putting him on the other side of the fence, back with the yakuza - that could actually be somewhat interesting. i’m just really, really scared that even after all of this they’re going to try to give him some kind of redemption arc that just has no chance of making sense anymore after everything that’s happened.

#h50 #10.15 #* #i've been even more absent from tumblr than usual and if you've been waiting for a reply i'm really sorry #and will try to get around to it asap!

[gumnut-logic]

We’ll Be Home For Christmas 3.2

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Day Three - If not for the courage of the fearless crew – Part 2 Prologue | 1.1 | 1.2 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 2.3 | 3.1

Author: Gumnut

23 - 27 Dec 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 2909

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Artist!Virgil, Minor various ships, mostly background.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos we haven’t seen it yet.

Author’s note: For @scattergraph. This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic :D I hope you enjoy it.

Okay, you’ve almost caught up with me and I go back to work tomorrow :(  So, unfortunately updates are going to slow as work takes over my life for the next five days – it is my double weekend where I work both Saturday and Sunday and I will whinge appropriately. I have been fortunate to be off work from Christmas to New Years and have churned out somewhere around 15,000 words in an attempt to finish this fic…and I failed (It is currently at 32,000 words and climbing). Getting there, but my writing speed will drop dramatically as RL takes over ::pouts::

Happy New Year to all you wonderful Thunderbirds peeps. Thank you for all your support on this fic and all the others I’ve played with throughout the year.

Many thanks to @vegetacide and @scribbles97 for cheering me on and their wonderful support through this craziness. And to @onereyofstarlight for geeking out with me over the setting.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

 “You’re going to be talking gibberish. We don’t speak whale. You could do more harm than good.”

“I have to try.”

“This isn’t about you.”

“I know that, John.” A harsh indrawn breath. “Please. It might be just enough to cause a distraction to draw the mother away so Gordon can do what needs to be done.”

John glared at his brother. It wasn’t an angry glare, but a worried one. Virgil was acting odd. His attention kept focussing elsewhere, his expression troubled.

But John trusted Virgil, so he set up the audio interface with the buoy, giving both his brother’s mic and his keyboard access to the amplifier and transmitter currently hanging in the water column. He looped in full control over the frequency and amplitude and duplicated the buoy’s holographic feed onto Virgil’s tablet so his brother could see what was happening.

Gordon appeared to be in a glaring contest with the mother whale.

Virgil played the first note.

John held his breath.

And his brother began to sing.

-o-o-o-

Virgil recited the notes of the distant whales’ answer to the mother’s distress call in his head as his fingers touched the keyboard. It had a pattern in both the math and the music bouncing around in his brain. He couldn’t duplicate it, but he could harmonise with it.

At first he echoed it a little, getting a feel for the extra dimension of the lower frequencies and the fact he couldn’t hear it when the computer calculated it below human range. Then he improvised.

The mother’s call still echoed through his body, its pulses sharp and poignant. Whales were mammals. Humans shared a relatively recent ancestor and if there was one constant amongst all the mammals on this planet, it was emotion. It might not be quite the same, but if he could feel that mother’s anguish, perhaps she could feel his reassurance, his hope, his need to help.

He wasn’t one to sing often, but in this case he felt the need to connect beyond the electronic and create the sounds only his voice could communicate.

So after a few initial attempts to align his music with the language of the great whale, he let himself go.

-o-o-o-

Mamma whale continued to stare at Gordon.

His brother’s voice echoed through the water around him, the melody fractured by the parts Gordon could not hear.

“C’mon, beautiful, you gotta like that. Virgil is a great musician.” Please.

She moaned again.

Virgil’s melody acknowledged her even though Gordon knew his brother had no idea what she was saying.

The music pleaded and even Gordon felt its draw.

Mamma muttered and drifted a little closer to her calf, nuzzling her as the little girl whimpered.

Calming notes and his brother’s voice slipped into a fragmented resemblance of a familiar lullaby their mother had sung when they were children. No words, just notes, his tone softer, his voice deepening.

Gordon edged closer to Mamma.

She didn’t move.

Still staring, her beautiful eye fixated on him.

Closer.

A little more.

He reached out and touched her.

Still she stared.

He brushed his gloved hand across the folds above her eye. “That’s it, beautiful. I’m from International Rescue. We’re here to help.”

The water vibrated around him as she punctuated his statement with her voice.

Moving slowly, he took off his right glove, removing the barrier between them.

Her skin was wrinkled, yet smooth to touch.

Her eye kept staring at him.

He kept stroking.

Virgil kept singing.

They stayed that way for a period of time Gordon wasn’t quite sure he could measure, when Mamma suddenly let off a grunt and a whine before backing off a little, opening the distance between her and her calf.

Oh, thank god.

“Thank you, Mamma.”

She didn’t answer, but also didn’t stop staring at him.

Gordon edged closer to the calf and when she didn’t intervene, he moved even closer, approaching the little one where she could see him, her frantic eye darting between him and her mother.

Net was snagged up half her face and wrapped around her pectoral fin.

Gordon swallowed and approached, reaching gently up in a parrot of the movements he had made with her mother.

“Hey, sweetheart. Who did this to you? Hey?” He reached out and touched her eyebrow ever so gently. “I’m so sorry.  We’ll make it better. I promise.”

His bare fingers brushed such soft skin.

She didn’t pull away.

“Hey, Scott. You and Alan, in the water, quietly. Either side of this little one. Let’s get her free.”

His brothers’ FABs were ever so quiet.

Gordon stroked the little girl’s eyebrow, muttering reassurances as his brothers materialised quietly beside her. It was no surprise when it was Scott who took his side between calf and mother.

Mamma moved a little, but didn’t protest.

Keep eye contact.

Keep stroking.

Keeping his voice low. “It is wrapped around her fin and caught in her mouth. Scott, see if you can free her fin. Alan, cut away the netting on that side and I will manage it on this side. She is very tired. Who knows how long she’s been stuck here.” His stomach roiled with anger again.

“FAB, bro.”

Scott’s hand landed gently on his shoulder and squeezed.

Virgil was still singing.

Gordon kept stroking.

Scott made short work of the net on her fin, cutting the cursed nylon rigging away with a very sharp knife. Alan signalled that he had cut the netting on her left side.

“She’s looking at me.” Alan’s voice was quiet.

“Al, she’s scared. Show her you care.”

Gordon was still stroking her eye ridges.

“How?”

“Reassure her. She’s a rescuee like any other.”

As Gordon turned to the net caught in her mouth, his little brother started murmuring reassurances.

“Okay, sweetheart, let’s get you free.” He put his glove back on and with a final brush of her brow, he set to work cutting netting away from her throat folds.

In places it had gouged deep into her skin.

His heart flickered between sorrow and anger.

Scott moved in to assist and between them the majority of the snag was cut away.

That only left the tangle in her mouth. She was actually free to move now, but she stayed where she was, perhaps unaware of her freedom, perhaps because she still had net in her mouth.

Bubbles danced on her skin as she stared at him.

He brushed his hand across her eye ridge again, ever so gentle.

Scott settled beside him and tentatively reached out and touched her flank. “She’s beautiful.”

Gordon sighed. “That she is.” A pause. “Stay here. Keep her calm as much as you can. I need to look at her other side. Removing that last piece will probably hurt.” He swallowed. Ignoring the emotion roiling in his gut, he turned away and dove under her.

Alan was splayed across her left flank, still murmuring reassurances, his arms wrapped around her as much as he could.

Gordon bit his lip, not sure whether to laugh or cry at the sight of his little brother hugging a whale.

Ultimately, he did neither and simply approached her other eye beside Alan and gave her a reassuring stroke.

The net had worn into the corners of her mouth as she struggled against the snag. He could only pray it wasn’t caught in her baleen.

Gritting his teeth, he nudged the net a little, testing it to see if he could pull it out. Once slipped from the groove it had cut into the poor calf’s skin, it did move...just enough to give him hope.

“Okay, guys, be wary. This might hurt.” He reached over and caressed her eye ridge again. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry, but this has to come out. We’re almost done.” Another caress.

Her eye fixated on him.

He tugged on the net.

To his surprise it slid easily, the majority of it just thin nylon rope.

Then it snagged.

The calf let out a sharp groan, her pectoral fins flailing.

Shit.

Alan narrowly missed getting tossed.

“Woah!” Scott yelped from her other side.

“Scott, you okay?”

“I’m good. That must have hurt. Have you got it all out?”

“No.” It was a rush of exhaled air.

Mamma moaned, then clicked at her daughter, but she stayed where she was.

Gordon returned to her eye. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” His hand stroked her again. God, he wished he could communicate with her. Ask her to open her mouth so he could take the blasted net out safely.

As if the thought was a magic wand, she did exactly that, slowly opening her mouth just a crack.

“Oh, that’s it, sweetheart, yes.” His hand brushed over her rostrum, gently encouraging her to open just that little bit wider. Her sheets of baleen emerged and Gordon refused to acknowledge his awe of this moment, knowing if he did, he would get lost in it.

Reaching in, he gently slid his fingers between the brush-like filaments of her feeding filters, ever aware he was probably either the first or one of very few to have ever reached into a live whale’s mouth. His fingers followed the netting until he could feel what it had caught on. And yes, it was caught in her baleen.

He swore silently and, as gently as he could, he fiddled with the rope, desperate to get it loose.

The calf shifted in the water, agitated. Mamma called out again and Virgil, still playing, still singing, answered best he could with a gentle note echoing through the water.

“Almost there, sweetheart.” He said it more to reassure himself than the calf. He wanted to swear. Unable to see the snag and relying on touch, he failed to locate the tangle. Frustrated he removed his hand and then removed his glove. He needed more information.

Placing his bare hand into a whale’s mouth was an experience. But it gave him the information he needed to unhook the netting from her plates. Something soft and squishy brushed against his palm and he had the distinct impression that he had just been licked.

In any case, he was able to remove his hand and the netting along with it.

The relief was a physical thing, his whole body wilting.

He handed the net fragment to Alan and with a brush of his bare fingers across her rostrum again, he returned to her eye.

She stared at him.

“You’re free, sweetheart.” His fingers touched her eye ridge and to his astonishment, his vision blurred.

Aw, shit. Crying underwater was not a good idea.

He blinked madly and straightened himself out. “John, Virgil can stop playing now. She’s safe.” Scott swam up beside Gordon and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

The calf’s eye flickered to his brother and back to Gordon.

Virgil sung one more note, long and plaintive, then faded into silence.

Water lapped at the calf’s flanks.

A quiet click.

A moan.

And Mamma was moving in.

Gordon grabbed Scott and Alan and dragged them backwards, out of range as Mamma took her place beside her offspring. There were several more clicks and moans.

She draped a pectoral fin over her baby.

Nudged her gently.

A flick of a tail and they were both moving. The calf was still exhausted, but she was no longer snared and the injuries should heal, though likely scar. Gordon thought briefly back to the sunfish he had seen yesterday. One of the lucky ones. His anger surfaced again.

Mamma groaned loudly and a wave of something washed over them. Gordon felt it in his gut. It was as if she had reached out and touched him with her voice.

They stayed there until the blue of distance swallowed the pair.

As the last of the adrenalin left his system, Gordon found himself shaking. But it wasn’t over yet. He turned towards the inflatable. “John, I need Four out here, now.”

-o-o-o-

It took John to snap him out of it.

Soft words.

A hand on his shoulder.

An end to the music.

Virgil found his throat aching, his abdomen complaining and his whole musculature system pissed at him for holding his position so long, wired with so much tension.

He let his shoulders drop and groaned. “God.” His hands on his face and he bent over the keyboard.

“Virgil?”

“I’m fine.” It was automatic and muffled by his palms.

John’s hand was back on his shoulder anyway.

Virgil sighed and pushed himself upright, looking up at his brother. “I’m okay, John, honest.”

That earned him a copper frown. But John was forced to turn back to his controls as WASP called in.

Virgil rubbed his face.

His holographic display showed the mother and her daughter turning back onto the south-easterly migration route. His eyes latched onto them.

The mother let off a groan and a wave of intensity washed over him. His bones sung with it and he gasped out loud.

Then it was gone.

“Goodbye.” It was a parched whisper falling from his lips.

John was shooting more worried looks at him.

Virgil pushed away his keyboard and struggled to his feet. Yes, he was going to pay for this little jamming session. His abdomen complained extensively.

But his head was so...full.

“Vir-“

“I’m fine!” Okay, it came out sharper than it should have. Another sigh. “Sorry. I’m...” He waved a hand in the direction of the back of the boat. “I’m just going to see if Gordon is okay.” His brothers were making for the inflatable on his display.

“Take it easy.” John’s expression was still annoyingly worried.

“I’m good. I promise.” He just needed a moment to think.

Gordon called for Four and John turned to action the request. Virgil took the chance for what it was and slipped out of the room, one arm wrapped around his middle.

-o-o-o-

By the time Gordon made it to the inflatable and dragged himself and his brothers out of the water, Two was on approach.

He glanced at their yacht and sure enough, his second eldest brother could be seen climbing the steps to the bow of the boat. He was hunched over just a little more than Gordon was comfortable with.

He nudged Scott and gestured in Virgil’s direction.

His big brother’s lips thinned.

Two’s VTOL fired as she braked mid-air and levelled herself out. Tin was brusque, keeping conversation to procedure, no doubt as unhappy with the reason for this callout as the rest of them.

Virgil straightened on the bow of the yacht and stared up at his ‘bird.

“I’m going to fish that net off the ocean floor before it can hurt anyone else. You want to field our musician?”

“FAB.” It was muttered as Scott eyed his artist brother across the water.

Okay, it wasn’t fighting fair to target Virgil with smother-brother number one, but there had been something in that music that even Gordon and his tin ear could pick up. He would check on the man himself, but that net had to be removed immediately.

Two dropped her module with a splash and Alan engaged the inflatable’s engine to dart them over to it. Gordon jumped off onto the open module ramp, the sight of his ‘bird, as always, lifting his spirits.

He rolled his shoulders as Alan turned the inflatable around and bee-lined for the yacht.

“Okay. Let’s do this.”

-o-o-o-

“I’m fine.”

Virgil said it loud enough to be heard above the roar of Two’s VTOL the moment Scott set foot on the top step leading up to the bow. His wetsuit was still dripping, blue neoprene leaving puddles in his footprints.

He raised his hands defensively. “I didn’t say a thing.”

“You thought it, though.”

Scott shrugged and took the remaining steps to reach his brother’s side. He eyed him sideways, noting the tension knotting the muscles in Virgil’s shoulders through the light shirt he was wearing.

An arched eyebrow and Scott reached out, letting his arm drape across those tight shoulders. As expected they flinched the moment he touched them. He pushed the matter and pulled his brother into a damp one armed hug, regardless.

Some of the tension slipped away.

Target result achieved.

“That was some performance.”

“Hmm.” It was distracted and barely acknowledged, Virgil’s eyes still on his ‘bird.

“John says WASP was able to grab a good percentage of the onsite perpetrators. Penny reports she has some good leads on the financial sources. We will find those responsible and they will pay.”

“They can rot in hell.” The hate and acid in Virgil’s voice was so uncharacteristic, Scott had to stop himself from taking a step back.

“Virg?”

He turned away, pulling himself out from under Scott’s arm. “I’m going to go lie down. And before you ask, yes, I’m fine, okay and completely dandy. Just...a little tired.” Virgil ran a hand across his face.

Scott eyed him, completely unconvinced, but knowing if he said anything it would be either brushed off or his brother would explode. “Okay.”

Virgil looked up at him and Scott was taken aback by the anguish in those dark eyes. But Virgil reached out and squeezed his arm before brushing past and heading back towards the steps off the bow.

Scott’s eyes followed him as his brother braced his side and made his way down.

Yes, they could rot in hell.

-o-o-o-

End Day Three, Part Two

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Alan Tracy

[ethereousdelirious]

Ask and ye shall receive

Fandom: T.he G.reat G.atsby

Characters: N.ick C.arraway, T.om B.uchanan

Pairings: N/A

Tropes: hangovers, heat exhaustion

Summary: N.ick, battling a vicious hangover, goes to New York with T.om only to get heat exhaustion. (It’s honestly pitiful how bad I am at writing summaries but that’s what happens ghgdjhgdz)

Warnings/Notes: there’s actually no emeto in this one believe it or not

More notes under cut

Uh yeah so I wasn’t really feeling inspired by the prospect of writing yet another Natsby fic, so I decided to explore Nick’s relationship with Tom? I really like Tom as a character for lots of reasons but in this context because, while he’s genuinely awful and has no redeeming qualities, he’s never really antagonistic toward Nick (or Jordan, for that matter). You can tell he doesn’t think of himself as a bad guy and that’s fucking fascinating to me, especially in terms of his ability to form connections with people he doesn’t perceive as beneath him.

ALSO I was kinda exploring his toxic masculinity vs Nick’s gentler, less threatening masculinity and Tom’s ability to express affection within that hypermasculine framework.

God sorry anyway. You didn’t come here to read an English paper. Here’s the fic. it’s short.

--

In New York, surrounded by temptation at every turn, it was so hard to not overindulge. 

In weaker moments, Nick would reflect that at least his occasional night of drunkenness had far fewer negative consequences than a night spent in the arms of a strange woman, or under heroin's hazy spell.

Today, however, no such excuses filled Nick’s head, only an arrhythmic pounding that worsened significantly when he had to stand up to exit the cab he had taken over to East Egg.

The flat soles of his leather shoes crunched in the white gravel of the driveway, grinding against his eardrums.

It wasn't even the worst hangover he'd had, not by a longshot, but it was certainly enough to make him wish he was back in bed.

Oh, well. Nick sighed as he approached the door. There was nothing to be done about it now.

Tom was waiting for him just beyond the heavy, oak door of the Buchanan estate.

"There you are," he said, his booming voice filling the hall. He pushed past the butler and wrapped his arm around Nick's shoulders. "I was beginning to think you'd never make it."

"Oh, I thought I was on time," Nick said, struggling to check his watch, but Tom wasn't even listening.

"I want to introduce you to some people," Tom said as he steered Nick back down the driveway. "You need connections if you're going to get anywhere in life."

"Oh," Nick said flatly, his head buzzing. Still, he knew from experience it was pointless getting irritated with Tom. "Thanks," he added. His mouth was dry and still tasted vaguely of gin.

"No, no. No need to thank me, Nick," Tom replied loftily. "We look out for each other, don't we?" He gave Nick a long look, the kind that indicated this was not a rhetorical question.

"Of course we do." Nick tried to smile.

"Good." Tom patted him on the back and pushed him toward the passenger side of the coupé. "Now let's go."

The drive into the city was a welcome rest, a sort of calm before the inevitable storm of heat and light that was New York proper. Tom talked the whole way with Nick chiming in at the appropriate pauses, usually to agree. Tom Buchanan was not the sort of man you could argue with.

Nick didn't even bother to ask where they were going when they got out of the car, just followed along in Tom's wake and tried not to walk into people.

It was hot. Even with his hat and the light material of his suit, Nick could feel the sunlight pouring down on him, heating him inside and out.

The light alone would have been enough to exacerbate his headache to the point of agony, but the noise was almost unbearable. Dimly, he could make out Tom's hulking form beginning to disappear into the crowd and he tried to speed up again.

It was too much. He stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk and tried to catch his breath, to get the buzzing in his head to calm down.

"Nick?" Tom's voice was suddenly near. "What are you doing?"

"Sorry, I--"

"Do I have to lead you along like a dog? Come on." Tom put a hand between Nick's shoulders and all but shoved him forward. The crowd obligingly parted for them and Nick allowed Tom to march him forward. It was just easier.

Tom was a fast walker. Usually it was no trouble for Nick to match his pace but today even keeping himself upright felt like a struggle. His face was almost painfully hot and the throbbing in his head was starting to make him feel sick. The hot dryness of his breath irritated his cracked lips and he couldn't help but lick them, wincing at the taste of blood. Nausea rolled threateningly in his stomach and his vision wavered.

"Where're you taking me, New Jersey?" he tried to joke.

"Very funny. We're almost there, just a few more blocks."

Nick fought the urge to just let himself fall down on the sidewalk. He was starting to get dizzy, like he was stuck on one of Coney Island's thrill rides.

Without warning, Tom led him around a corner and Nick stumbled. The vertigo left him unable to right himself and fell heavily against Tom before hitting the wall of the building next to them.

"What's the matter with you?" Tom glanced around like Nick was embarrassing him.

"I..." It was so hard to think, let alone speak. Nick's head was swimming with the severity of the pain hammering at his temples and the base of his skull.

To his credit, Tom did look concerned. He pressed the back of his hand briefly to Nick's cheek, then looked him over. "Must be the heat. My fault, really. You always were delicate."

Nick's knees buckled as if on cue. He slumped half-conscious against Tom's chest, loathing that heat generated by their bodies' proximity but unable to move.

"Okay!" Tom hauled Nick to his feet and arranged his limbs so he could lean against Tom's shoulder. "Think you can make it back to the car without fainting on me?"

It took a long while for the word's to permeate the static buzzing in Nick's ears. They were a ways down the sidewalk when he mumbled an affirmative, more of a sound than a word.

"Good man."

Nick made it to the car without blacking out, but it was a near thing. The world was a blur of pain and noise, stimulus with no clear edges or details. He didn't even notice he was lying down in the backseat until they were halfway over the bridge, and then he only closed his eyes. If he could just sleep.

He couldn't. Even the slightest movement of the car jostled his aching head and brought him closer to the verge of vomiting. It was all he could to not cry out. He doubted Tom would appreciate it.

His breathing must have changed because Tom said, "Hold on, we're almost there," and accelerated.

Even through the feverish haze clouding his mind, Nick couldn't help but be surprised. Tom had always had a soft spot for him, but he would have expected his affections to fade by now. Nick had always lacked the commanding hypermasculinity that Tom always projected. Tom would certainly never allow himself to end up in this position.

Nick was still dwelling on this unhappy line of thought when the car came to a stop. He sat up slowly and stood up even slower.

Tom was waiting there by his shoulder, ready to catch him and give him a paternalistic pat on the shoulder.

"We'll get you sorted out inside, don't you worry."

Only then did Nick notice that they were back at the Buchanan's estate. His heart sank. "Oh, Tom, really, it's okay--"

"Nonsense. You're coming inside and you're not leaving until you're back on your feet again."

Nick was too tired for a proper protest, especially knowing that this was not an argument he could win. But desperation prevailed. "Really, I can just go--"

"I won't hear a word of it."

Tom continued to pull him along at a speed much faster than Nick could manage. His heart was pounding painfully in his chest, hard and rapid. He knew he ought to thank Tom, but he really didn't want to.

Still, he tried to move his lips to form the words and found them numb and tingling. The noise of the birds and the wind faded to radio static.

There was an odd pressure on Nick's stomach, preventing him from drawing a full breath. His feet weren't touching the ground.

And he still felt awful.

Confused, he opened his eyes.

Tom had him in a fireman's carry and was walking down one of the many hardwood halls of the Buchanan estate.

Nick sighed, his face burning with shame.

"I can walk," he croaked.

"Nonsense." Tom tried to glance at him, craving his neck awkwardly. He turned, maneuvering through a doorway, and deposited Nick onto a bed.

Nick arranged himself so he was on his back. He didn't have the energy to do much else but stare at the ceiling, although he did notice a pitcher of water on the bedside table.

"You're gonna be just fine," Tom said. He moved to Nick into a sitting position as easily as a child would move a doll, then poured out a glass of water. "Drink."

"Thank you," Nick said. He downed it without even passing for breath. The quickest way out of here would be to get better, and the quickest way to do that would be to drink. So he did. His head was still pounding and fuzzy, too much so for conversation. His eyes were starting to slide closed of their own accord.

Tom's blue gaze appraised Nick with the cool detachment of a predator assessing prey. "Get some rest," he said, reaching down to ruffle Nick's hair. "If you're not better by morning I'm sure Daisy will have a whole army of doctors in here, and I'd rather avoid the hassle." He gave a half-smile.

"I understand," Nick murmured, not able to bring himself to fake a laugh.

He sank back against the pillows and closed his eyes. Before drifting off, he could have sworn he felt Tom gently removing his shoes and bidding him a quiet "good night."

#ethereous writes

[kyurilin]

2010-2019 Or The Overly Non Dramatic Story of How Kyuri's Decade Went

Technically this isn't a part of this decade review but I'm posting this on December 24th specifically because 10 years ago today I spoke to @mist-over-water on the phone for the first time after having known her for three years and I'm pretty sure we both cried

2010

met @mist-over-water for the first time in person. Took her to the beach where she promptly got roasted by the sun. Took her to the mountains. Took her out to practice driving in a local high school parking lot because why not. I cried so hard when she had to go home and God help me I'd only known her four years at that point.

Flunked a math class for the first time. Funny enough, it was because I'd been put in the advanced math courses for years and that was the year I both had a teacher I hated and could no longer reasonably fake my way through understanding math. Don't put your kids in advanced courses unless you're certain they can keep up with it people I only really was an advanced reader.

My dog Scruffy passed away :(

Started my senior year of high school

2011

Managed to graduate high school on time despite having to take 2 whole math courses during senior year (and with @mist-over-water 's who will now be referred to as Gabby because simplicity buddies sending me 'GRADUATE' messages so I'd have the motivation to go see her in person)

Got to go to England to see Gabby which, dream come true. Had a blast. Met the two precious nieces she had, her brother who's accent I couldn't understand, her mom who is one of the sweetest people, and her grandparents who I got to watch a lot of old British gameshows with.

Saw Wicked from second row seats in London.

Saw Cars 2 three times with Gabby which is why I'm still emotionally invested in Cars 2 because boy getting to see the sequel movie to the movie that ended up allowing you to cross paths with someone you really clicked with is AN. EXPERIENCE.

Cried when I finally had to leave because I was 18 and terrified of the future and didn't know when or if I'd ever see my friend in person again.

Started at community college in the film and video program

2012

Finished my first year of community college

Wrote my first original novel that will honestly never see the light of day. It's terrible ya'll

Through circumstances I still regret started losing my friendship with Gabby and boy do I hate who I was a person during that time

Started my second year of community college

2013

Worked on the X Factor as a production assistant.

Probably around this time that Gabby and I stopped talking which was better for us at that point. Still took an emotional toll to lose a friend that I'd known for 7 years at that point but in the long run we did need the distance (and I'm sorry to throw it all out here like this Gabby if you want it edited tell me I'm just putting it all out lmao)

Through a cosmic aligning of the universe by which I mean a special interest in both Minecraft and Achievement Hunter at the same time, I found a small Minecraft server that I could play on and met some really great people

Started my third year of community college

Oh yeah met @inspector-starfish from the Minecraft server for the first time in person, me and my brother stole her from her college and took her to the state fair with us.

2014

Started easing into talking to Gabby again (I remember the message with new baby Imogen!!!) Which was a blessing

I can't remember if it was 2014 or 2015 but at some point Gabby also hung out with me on the Minecraft server with my other buddies

Worked on Catfish as a Production Assistant for like 2 days and I still think I was fired lmao

My dad was arrested. Which is... The hardest thing to type out. Because everything before 2014 feels so distant because of the events.

He got put in jail and we bailed him out, but a month later he got arrested again and we couldn't bail him out this time.

God help me I'm so glad I had gotten back to talking to Gabby at this point I vaguely remember a sobbing Skype call between us.

I don't even remember what classes I was in at community college anymore that's how bad it is.

I basically dropped out though.

I stopped writing, I stopped drawing, I stopped... Being. That's really what it narrows down to. Only one of my real life friends knew what happened and I broke down everytime I thought about it so i'm pretty sure at one point I had a panic attack on my way to hang out with Friend A, who knew, and Friend B, who didn't.

I did start talking to @rhysispiecess that year. Through a post on here actually (we were also on the same Minecraft server but because I didn't really play that much that I remember after this whole thing I kinda forgot who he was).

I think (maybe???) I also met @belle-sourires and @youllthinkofsomething that year.

We moved from the house we'd lived in 13 years to a little rental house where we had the sweetest neighbors

2015

I spent a lot of time reading and crying in 2015 lmao

Also spent a lot of time talking to @rhysispiecess (the FNAF AU years God bless them for being a much needed distraction from real life)

Dad went to actual prison and boy that's an experience having to visit him there every week

We moved again this time to a small apartment

Got my first real job that wasn't being a production assistant (the same job I still have!)

Started to make actual attempts at writing again but struggled with it a lot

2016

For the first time since 2014 I actually wrote more than a simple one off story of the course of a month

Saved up my money and went to California to meet @rhysispiecess and @27thousandlizards.

Confused the shit out of Luke's (@27thousandlizards ) grandma

Was so tired I cried when I saw how little Corgi puppies are

Got to see @inspector-starfish and @youllthinkofsomething in San Diego where they were doing a robot thing as usual

Got to see the end bit of Route 66 cause wouldn't you know Rhys lives right near it (and as a huge Cars fan oh my God FATE)

Had an absolute blast with both Rhys and Luke and cried when I had to leave them because boy do I love friends

2017

Cars 3 came out and I transcended to a higher plane of being

Okay not really but I'm sure ya'll remember the days where I was mostly a Cars blog

100% I know I've said this before but all of the Cars movies have hit with specific messages at exactly the point in my life I needed to hear those messages so like. Poetic cinema.

Made some fantastic friends from those days

After 11 years of attempts at writing a redemption arc for a certain Cars character I finally wrote one and IT WAS GREAT

Cars 3 also managed to make me write again which has continued to be a struggle since 2014

Oh yeah became single again I was in a relationship but that ended TIME FOR ALONE (learned I'm still a terrible person who doesn't handle relationships well so hey not bad I'll leave people out of my overly anxious 'they must hate me' mentality)

2018

Fell out of writing again after the Cars 3 hype died down enough lmao

Got to meet @whipplefilter and @the-kings-tail-fin for a road trip around NC which was fantastic

Played way too much Nintendo Switch

Gabby got engaged and I absolutely cried for like an hour because how the fuck do you not cry when someone you've known for so long gets engaged (I'm still so happy for her @onetruejonsey seems like a really wonderful guy)

Oh yeah we moved again we have a real house now but the neighbors are redneck assholes

2019

Thanks to FNAF Help Wanted, I got whiplashed back into that fandom BUT I did start writing pretty regularly again. In fact I've written more this year than all the years since I stopped COMBINED. Which means I was both in the right headspace to actually want to write again as well as being able to keep myself focused on it.

Met Jodie Benson (ARIEL!!!!!!), Daniel Logan (KID BOBA FETT) and Christopher Sabat at GalaxyCon. Right. I went to my first convention despite being terrified of it

I cried like a bitch meeting Jodie Benson and she hugged me. I told Daniel Logan I'd had a crush on him as a kid and that Attack of the Clones was still my favorite Star Wars (which it is I wasn't lying) and he hugged me. Got to hear Sean Schemmel call Christopher Sabat out for being so friendly that his line was ridiculous which was great because boy did I not have enough money to meet more than three people. Christopher Sabat was fantastic too.

Went to DC with my 3 closest IRL buddies I've known since like 2008 and despite some arguments none of us killed each other. Nearly destroyed my feet from all the walking though. Don't know how we'd survive a trip to Japan which they all want to do.

Started formulating my next novel idea

It's been a long decade. Really the first half feels like it happened to another person.

I want to say, more than anything, if it weren't for Gabby I never would have had the courage to meet so many of my other online friends. She flew over here to meet me when I was 17 and she was 15 going on 16. We were so young and my dad and her mom worked so hard to make sure that we could actually meet each other and I'm forever thankful for that. I went across the ocean by myself at 18, an autistic disaster of a human, and somehow I didn't panic or get lost or anything. Without those experiences I never would have had the courage to do a lot of the things I've done since.

I'm still terrified of the future though. I have no idea if I'll even save enough money to go to England to see Gabby again (and God we actually need to talk more because I feel like a terrible friend ALL I DO IS SEND GIRAFFE PHOTOS). I don't even know what I want out of life.

Here's hoping though that I can continue to have some adventures and meet more of my online buddies in the next decade!

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S3 Ep 44-45: Bakura‘s Back for More of This Nonsense

Man, I can’t believe we’re closing in on the 4th season of this show (still in shock I’m still able to make these.) Seems like just yesterday I felt like I had no idea what was happening, and now I’m like “they put in freakin Sans into Smash but not Bakura???” I’ve become one of those people now.

It’s been interesting how, because I have slowed down to watch these, I think I’ve been able to have a much more positive experience with the show. People have been talking about how binging has kind of changed TV from a place where fandoms could chat to a place where...you just watch it all in a weekend and hope no one spoils it and then wait for the next big thing to consume a week later.

But, when you’re watching a 15 year old anime you don’t have to worry about any of that. So it’s like a kind of nostalgic experience of a pre-streaming era despite the fact I’m totally streaming this.

But back to the show, now that the deep and reflective moments for Marik are over, my favorite storyboarder went home and left the rest of this to the night team who are clearly in a real rush to get this all finished. Again, the Yugioh whiplash is going from that high of “damn this is so goo-” then to the reality that the rest of the art direction in this show is “-acceptable. I meant to say acceptable. It’s perfectly acceptable”

Yugi Muto is still strung up by weird shadow magic restraints that must also be around his legs for some reason. I mean...it wouldn’t be so kinky if it wasn't also around his feet. More bits and pieces of Our Boy have been removed over the course of this endless card game, and he’s doing pretty good considering.

Joey has decided he’s had Enough Of These Damn Ghosts.

And so Marik decided that he’s been shamed by Joey Wheeler enough that he will just go away like Joey asks. This may be the only person who was actually bothered enough by Joey Wheeler to walk away in all of Yugioh.

(read more under the cut)

They....

Legit no one told her what had just happened.

They........

Just want to note that while Yugi’s leg burst out a stream of weird purple gas and Yugi screamed in pain, when his crotch disappeared, he did nothing but patiently look over at Pharaoh, who awkwardly winced. I guess the animation team knew better than to animate gas exploding out of that one particular spot, but it is still a rather funny contrast.

Marik has achieved his final form of so many veins, and it is a still frame every time it’s on screen. You cannot animate this. You cannot.

On the other end of the field, Odion has somehow made it down these extremely steep stairs, only to look up and see so many more stairs.

And back on the field is so many cards. So many cards, including the Card Poem. This awful Card Poem I tried so hard to forget.

Bro brings up that maybe this poem sounds way cooler in Japanese but like...I doubt it, right? Like this was a poem that the writers threw together in 5 minutes and were like “we’re never going to actually say the shame poem, right?”

But anyway more cards things happen but why talk about cards when this eventually happens.

I feel like Pharaoh was attempting to use Shadow Magic on Marik like just a few episodes ago so he could have done something now but...maybe he forgot? I dunno. Pharaoh didn’t feel like participating in this particular fight, maybe because his alter ego is holding on to life solely by having extra long emo bangs to count as lifepoints.

and so, Odion gives Marik a pep talk--and I kid you not, this is all Marik needed the entire time.

Yeah.

That was it.

Like maybe Odion had to be awake since Odion has a spell or whatever on Marik but still it’s like...all you had to do was say “This guy is not even a person, Marik--you are the person, just nix him and we’re good”

And so the two alter ego’s fight with eachother in the same body and that must have been a treat for everyone watching.

Man, it’s a good thing Mokuba already has so many PTSD situations under his several belts up to this point, because otherwise I’d be somewhat concerned about this very young kid who is privy to all this type of magical abominations every time his brother just wants to play cards.

and then...Yugi plays a bunch of cards and...um......

......don’t ask me what happened........

After the big group hug, Marik and Marik switch places.

This was because bad Marik was fused with a monster card--which turned bad-Marik into...the definition of a Monster.

So, if you kill the monster card then you can...

...switch places with your alternate half...

...yes...

Basically it’s a more complicated version of what Pharaoh did to Ryou and Bakura in S1, except in S1, Bakura played Ryou as a card and Pharaoh just slammed his hands on the table and was like “Screw it, Bakura! I’m so tired of this! We’re all so individually tired of this! I’m just going to use my Shadow Magic and switch you with Ryou and then we’re all going the HELL BACK TO BED!”

This time it just had to be so much more complicated although we have seen Pharaoh willy nilly switch souls before just two seasons ago.

So, just like Bakura did to his evil side in S1, Marik banishes his evil side to the shadow realm in a card game.

Which worked super good last time, amiright?

I guess we’re all just going to assume that this works now? Even though this absolutely did not work in season 1? Like Bakura went right back to a life of murder immediately?

Then again, Bakura’s an actual dude, and Marik’s alter Ego was a figment of his anger or something?????? Maybe that’s the difference? Maybe that’s why we can be rest assured that this works now?

Maybe they’re just tired of the Marik plot line and are like “listen, he’s kind of hard to draw and we don’t want to do it anymore. He’s dead now.”

For realsies though, from what I’ve been told, Marik never goes cray again and gracefully exits the show. But, if they ever want to continue Yugioh back in this direction, you can just have him snap at any time you feel like, we all know this type of exorcism is wholly reversible.

Anyway, the clouds are lifted and we are reminded that it is still hardly even lunch time.

It is at this point that Marik turns to his Brother and his Sister, who all three have no world skills outside of scamming museums and filtering sewer water, and waxes long about all the great times they’re about to have in the future.

Like what future though? You have to go to 20 years of actual real deal school, Marik, you can only read one Egyptian text. Hell knows how many people you possessed in order to get that motorcycle permit. You for sure aren’t ever allowed to play cards ever again. Like what are you going to do, Marik?

...dude what if he just goes back on the boat and just sails away for the rest of his life with his cultists who are equally unqualified to live in the real modern world. OMG what if that’s the real Marik’s Boat Time all along?

Ah. 

I almost forgot about you, Bakura.

Just in time for the British Bake Off to start updating episodes on Netflix, just in time, Bakura.

And following this is actual real thing that happened which, if you told me about, I would have just assumed was a joke or an edit to make it appear like this is happening. But no, it’s strip time.

the hell?

Yo can you believe that like a week ago I was like quoting “One Week” for kicks in these recaps and then this week Marik is, indeed, “in the history of taking off his shirt” ?

Anyway, Marik reminds us that his only purpose in life is to uh...be a book. A book that no one can read because Pharaoh didn’t have the foresight 5000 years ago that no one would be speaking Egyptian anymore and also that his reincarnation would be a 14-16 yo Japanese boy who’s entire brain power is used for selecting cards and selecting matching belts.

I just...Pharaoh’s mind must have been in a real place 5000 years ago and that was before he ever became a ghost.

Also, it is kind of amazing how many times it has come up how illiterate Pharaoh is over the past season and he still hasn’t decided to do anything about it. Like, he’s just kind of hoping that someone else (probably Kaiba) will feed the answer to him like a baby because that’s just how this show has been up to now.

In this case he has a one-ness moment with the tablet and gets the sense of “It’s fine, we’ll figure this out later” which um...

I’m really happy that in this scene, Pharaoh is still tripping balls but everyone else is so used to him doing stuff like this, they just completely ignore it.

So glad I had 2 seasons to build up this back tatt in order to figure out that Marik’s back didn’t help Pharaoh at all. The tablet yes, the back tattoo--no, completely unnecessary. Congrats, Pharaoh’s mole people servants, you screwed up and did this weird ass ceremony on 12 yo’s for 5000 years trapped underground for NO REASON.

Anyways, preteens rejoice, Marik without a shirt is randomly 10 lbs more buffed now, which I’m pretty sure was never a thing when he was wearing that itty bitty pink hoodie. Like maybe the animators are just used to really buffed anime and this is them toning it the hell down, but uh...no actual 16 year olds will ever look like this, sorry to break it to you, preteens.

Man, the horny line running through this show lol.

Letsee, Yugi now has the puzzle, Ishizu’s necklace, the Ring, the Rod, the...

...where’s the freakin eyeball?

Did...where is it? Where is the nastiest of the golden objects?

Did Bakura never bring the eye with him to this trip? Like...is it just hanging out in his desk at home near his secret stash he super hopes that his Mom doesn’t find?

Guys, where’s the eyeball?

Anyway, now that Mokuba has decided Seto can feel joy and smile again, he gives Seto the A-OK to blow the hell out of this moneypit island that has already been violently blown up just a few years previously.

Like this begs the question, why even build this tower if you wanted to blow it up? But then again, that is the equivalent to a small child that builds block towers just to knocks them over, right? Like that part of Seto just never grew up?

So........

My bro, while looking this over, gave me the best spicy bro headcanon I’ve ever heard, and it’s absolutely too ridiculous for this blog that is mostly about what actually happens in the course of this show, but I’mma gonna share it with you anyway. I’m pretty sure this isn’t a common headcanon, but if my bro got it from some random fic he read off Ao3, I don’t know any better. So bro kinda squints at Roland, Seto Kaiba’s most incompetent bodyguard (if “bodyguard” is even an accurate description for the weird fake not-a-job that this guy has to do) and is like “do you feel like Roland has Noah’s hair color?”

and I was like “Bro, if you are suggesting that Roland is the illegitimate son of Gozobura because his hair is the same shade as the darker parts of Noah’s hair, that is one wild headcanon and I love it”

So--using Bro’s logic, lets say Gozaboro had a really stupid illegitimate son he had to hide from his wife. So he just...gives him a fake job. Considers “maybe I can use this son on A.I. Noah?” but Roland ends up being too much of a dumbass to intimidate Noah, so instead, he keeps Roland around on low-tier jobs so he gets keep an eye on him, torture him, etc.

And as the company falls out around him, Roland gets slowly promoted, as Seto and Mokuba fire basically everyone who worked with Pegasus and the Big 5. And Roland, who is just so bad at everything, forgot to attend the Pegasus coup (and would have no idea what is ever happening), so when the Kaibas returned from Pegasus’ island they still have Roland...sitting there at that long table covered in 4 identical idiot salads and orange juice he laid out for them in his patchy green moustache and his huge Gozaburo shoulders, they’re like “well.....I guess we have to take care of him now.”

And that’s the story my brother has in his head now every time Roland is on screen. It’s not canon at all that Roland is the secret 4th Kaiba brother but damn. What if he’s just the 4th Kaiba brother but has no idea, and Mokuba and Seto do, and that’s why they drag him all over the world with them? Hilarious.

I mean...Seto and Mokuba fire everyone. But they don’t fire Roland, their biggest dumbass. What a headcanon. (and if this joke ends up being real I’ll be very happy)

ALSO, new thing, the necklaces around their necks with the cute picture of eachother that they had up till now to remind eachother of their forever brotherly love--also keys used to blow up things very violently.

I should have expected this.

Anyway, lets check up on Mai---oohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Y’all this was WEIRD.

WHAT. THE. HELL.

So after that extremely insensitive joke that made us doubt if bringing back Mai was a good thing, lets have a reminder that we brought back someone else even worse, who, like a parasite, was devouring everything that they love.

(Bakura’s font color has been changed to blue stripes because before he was just too similar to Joey’s yellow and my white. Eventually I will find the right system for coloring everyone’s font legibly, although I know that the patterns are sometimes harder to read for people that aren’t colorblind.)

Ah, local nasty boy is back. I’d love if they had shown more of the food he ate, but they wisely decided to crop that huge spread out of frame. Bakura eating all of the donuts is canon though. Somehow every donut aboard this blimp fit inside of that small boy’s endless stomach.

PS Kaiba Corp makes their own milk. At some point, Seto Kaiba was just leaning back into his work chair, Mokuba on the couch watching TV, Roland completely unable to reload the Keurig, and Seto was like “But what if...I made CHEESE.” (BECAUSE YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THESE KIDS LOVE CHEESE) and Mokuba was like “OMG you could sell the company back to them at 2 times the price for each share” and he was like “I KNOW.”

and so he marched down to the nearest cheese fields to buy some cows, only to find out that the agriculture market is so strained you can’t sell the shares at a times-two profit now and he‘s like “Ah dammit! I have to do real business! This freakin blows!”

Makes you think.

Anyway, then Ryou throws some shade at us about “PS, I was in Hell! I love you, too!”

Anyway, so it’s about time we ended this season, so how about it? How about we take off, watch it all blow up as a symbolic representation of all the hopes and dreams Kaiba had at the beginning of this tourney, and end this crazy ass season?

Oh wait, that relies on Roland being able to do even one thing competently.

So, that’s where we leave off.

Really truly, honestly, we need to get everyone on this show matching cuff radios because the number of times they’ve needed to call Kaiba is insurmountable. Could have solved so many problems. Really surprised that Roland can’t like...call the Kaibas right now, but now that I think about it, we clarified several episodes ago that Mokuba forcibly kicked Roland off of the radio because he was unable to work it properly.

Good job Roland, the best Kaiba son.

Anyway if you just got here this is a link to read just the Yugioh recaps in chrono order

#yugioh #ygo #episode recap #photo recap #yugioh recap #S3 ep 44 #S3 Ep 45 #welcome back Bakura #I'm starting to see why he's associated with food all the time in fanart #yugi muto #seto kaiba #mokuba #marik ishtar #ishizu ishtar #mai valentine #tea gardner #joey wheeler #tristan taylor #odion ishtar #did I forget anyone #roland I guess #I don't think anyone's searching in the tags for Roland though #oh yeah #duke devlin #can't believe I forgot about duke again #enjoy the thursday update I'm just so excited to see the end of this season that this one got done early

[blackroseaki38]

Lonely Tower

@badthingshappenbingo

Trope: Isolation

Fandom: Sofia the First

AN: This was nice to write. Expect more bingos today. I have been at work constantly for weeks. I have been continuing to write and draw, just never had time to post bc I like to beta my work many times, by others and myself, before I do. Hope you guys like.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sofia the First characters or anything in this fic. 

Cedric was used to being alone. Being alone used to mean being away from bullies and more difficulties in his life. It used to mean protection from others. But that was in the past and currently,  the silence is painful. Before the silence, he used to have Wormtail. Now he has no one, not that he needed anyone.

So, he stayed in his tower. He didn't need to talk to anyone to be happy. He was used to being alone before he received Wormtail.

He worked and worked on the various things the King needed for the kingdom. With the troublesome things happening around them, Roland requested the palace's wards be redone along with many other increases in their magical security.

So, Cedric did those tasks and much more. Before, he used to be worried and would always mess up on anything the King needed to be done.  Now, it didn't matter anymore. Either he did well or not. It didn't matter since he shouldn't need the acceptance of a King who did not care about him. Besides, he’s failed so many expectations that another failure to his already lengthy list did not change much in his disappointment of a life. 

Cedric had already told Baileywick that he would be busy this week and that he would pick up his own meals from the kitchens, so no need to send them up to him. He also asked him to let the kids, mainly Sofia know, that he did not want to be disturbed because he needed strict concentration on this type of magic. Now that he would be uninterrupted for the week, he would be able to get his work done in peace.

He updated the wards and tended to the magical security covering the palace. Once he was finished with all the magical defenses, he turned to new projects. He worked on new energy potions for the soldiers and growth spells for the farmers. He did everything he could think of to keep busy. He didn't need sleep or food. This was enough. Maybe it would be enough . . . . to 

Cedric continued to work, ignoring the silence around him. He tried his best to stop talking out loud, but it was not working. So, he took out the old stuffed toy his niece left the last time she visited them. It was a little stuff owl, but it was better than nothing. He used a sticking spell to get the owl to stay in place on the wooden bird stand near his work station.

He didn't care that he looked crazy, talking to a toy. But, he couldn't help himself. He needed to talk to someone, something! It just had to talk, just so many the voices inside his head would finally shut up.

'You don't deserve to have anyone. Nobody wants you.'

"No! Princess Sofia! She likes me!"

'Oh really? Then why hasn't she come to check on you? Its been two weeks already. You know she doesn't exactly listen to your requests to be alone before. She must have finally realized you're not worth having around.'

"No . . .  it can't be. She wouldn't."

'She wouldn't? Well, if really cared. She would be knocking on the door as we speak. You and I both know she left, just like everyone else.'

"No..." Cedric whispered. He couldn't let the voices get to him, but he couldn't help it. No stuffed toy would ever make this voice stop. It wouldn't defend him back!

'Your mother....'

"..No.."

'...Your father...'

"....NO..."

'... Your sister...'

"... No, no..."

'.... The royal family ...." '

"N-no! It can't be. I can't... be alone?"

'Your probably locked up, in this tower. This was their chance to finally lock you up and get rid of you. '

Cedric fell to his knees and finally let the tears fall from his eyes. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm down. But, nothing was working. He just had to accept it. He was alone and he would always be alone.

--elsewhere--

'Sofia? Do we have to visit Cedric? You know what Baileywick said! He's busy with an important project. You know how he gets when he is interrupted!'

"I know Clover, but I can't help myself. You know how Mr. Cedric can get when he gets all busy with his work. He told Baileywick he would get his own meals on time, but I just asked the kitchen if he came for any meals. They haven't seen him come get any food. And he's been locked up in his lab for 2 weeks. We need to make sure he is okay and force him to get food," the princess said as she walked up the long stairwell towards the tower where Cedric resided.

'Alright, alright! But, don't look at me if he scolds you for not listening.'

"Thanks, Clover!" Sofia said, with a pat of on his furry little head.

'Yeah, yeah. I know. Clover is the best.' the bunny's ego inflated even more. 

----

Soon, she had arrived at the top of the steps. She knocked on the large wooden door. When no one opened the hair, she got a little bit worried.

"Mr. Cedric? Are you in there?" she called out loudly. 

When she got no response, she turned to Clover. 

"Clover, do whatever you can to get someone else up here. Something's wrong."

The rabbit didn't object or anything but just ran off to do the task he was just assigned.

Sofia turned back to the door, wondering how to open it.

"Mr. Cedric! Please open up! I'm worried!"

Finally realizing no one was going to open the door, Sofia looked around to see if there was another way in. Then she noticed the welcome mat under her feet. She checked underneath it and was relieved to find a spare key there. She would talk to Mr. Cedric about getting a better hiding place for his keys later. Right now, she needed to find him.

Slowly, she opened the door and slowly wandered it. There were broken test tubes and beakers on the group. Sofia carefully navigated through them and finally found her way to the restroom. She could hear the shower running, but she just couldn't wait for him to leave, so she opened the door and stepped in.

Inside, she found Cedric, fully clothed, and sitting under the freezing cold water raining on him.

"Mr. Cedric?"

Cedric turned to look at her, his eyes slightly glasses over like he wasn't quite there. He tilted his head in confusion. 

"You're not real. So, why are you acting concerned."

Sofia stepped closer and turned off the water. 

"Mr. Cedric, I am real. Sofia, remember?"

He looked at her confused, but his eyes sparkled a bit like he recognized her voice.

"Remember that one time, that you chased the Griffin through the castle when he stole my amulet. Or that time, you..."

Sofia slowly continued to recall all the fun and sometimes ridiculous situations they have been in together. Some, might shake their heads and call her crazy for all the things she listed down. But, somehow, Cedric kept listening as every word as he made more and more connections in his head. Finally, his eyes were clear and he was shivering from the cold water he had been sitting for hours now.

"Sofia? What? Where?" he asked mindlessly.

"Mr. Cedric!" she cried out, pulling him in a tight hug, not caring if the front of her dress was wet now. She was just happy he was better now.

Cedric was confused, then he remembered what happened. He told Sofia how he had forced himself to try to accept Wormtail's absence in his life.

Sofia looked into Cedric's shiny gray eyes.

"Mr. Cedric, I know I'm just a kid. But, I promise you that from now, you will never be alone again. We'll do whatever we can to support you, but please don't close yourself off like this again. I know no one wanted today anything, but everyone was worried."

"Sofia, I'm glad you care for me. But, who else cares for me.---------- No one here wants me! I should just leave and go far away, somewhere I will not make any trouble for anyone else!"

"No, Mr. Cedric! I know it may seem like, no one cares about you. But, they do. Just you wait. I've sent someone to get help. I bet you'll be very much surprised to see how many people really care about you."

"Sofia, I'm glad you think that but I'm not so sure-" his words were cut off as Baileywick ran into the room, along with the Queen.

"Oh dear! Cedric, what are you doing? Let's get this water turned off," Baileywick exclaimed as he rushed to turn off the water.

"Sofia, sweetie. Your father is trying to clean up the glass in the laboratory. Can you and your siblings run off to get some towels? We'll be needing them," her mother directed the little girl, who promptly ran off to do her assigned tasks.

Cedric wasn't sure what to say. He couldn't believe what was even going on. The queen was here? And Baileywick? The king was cleaning up his lab? Was this a lucid hallucination or something?!

The queen crouched down to Cedric's position and pulled him into a hug, even though they were separated by the lower half of the tub. She ran her fingers through his two-toned hair. 

"Cedric, I'm sorry we didn't see what was going on sooner. However, I promise you that from now things will be different. We'll help you get past this, no matter how long it takes, okay?"

Cedric wasn't sure if this was even real or not, but after weeks of no social interaction at all, it was nice to be treated like this. He closed his eyes and nodded his head, even though he didn't believe himself at all. A few tears escaped his eyes as he finally felt more loved than ever before.

Soon, before he knew it, he was whisked off to his room. He was too tired and hungry to notice who dried him from his wet trip to the shower. He did remember the Queen vaguely trying to feed him soup. He slept for a few days straight. Every time he would wake up, he wasn't quite awake. But, he would always make sure someone was with him and then promptly fall back asleep. 

Finally, after a few weeks of a lot of people taking care of him, the young wizard had his first awakening without being confused or loopy. 

Cedric was surprised to see the room full of flowers, letters, and similar things. He tried to sit up when he realized someone was holding his head. It was Sofia. She was sitting on a chair next to his bed and was gripping his hand in her sleep. 

Cedric smiled, as he finally took in the things around him. The voices were definitely wrong. If no one actually liked him, then he would not have so many things sent to him. Maybe Sofia was right. People did care about him, at least somewhat. He finally laid back, realizing that he did not have to be alone anymore. He had all these people to keep him company. He didn't need Wormtail. Not when he had so many friends . . . and family.

He looked at the young princess next to him and smiled gently. 

"Thank you, Princess Sofia. Thank you."

#sofia the first #sofia the fandom #cedric #cedric the sensational #cedric the sorcerer #cedric the great #wormtail #princesssofia #king roland #baileywick #isolation