#also i’ve been feeling Terrible about the way i look hence the body hiding all-black outfit

[evermoredeluxe]

#im laughing in the top right pic because i was tryna show the sleeves of the top lmao #also i’ve been feeling Terrible about the way i look hence the body hiding all-black outfit #hinge boy #arshia talks

[the-dimitrescu-seamstress]

I Won’t Be Long - A rather long one shot

(I have been working on this, what I call “Magda’s Worst Day”, for a while, and I only recently was inspired to finish it. Hence why I’ve been rather quiet in terms of posts. I can only torture my muse so much.

Basically, this story came about because of the “What have you done to my daughter?!” line. Alcina was in her chambers while saying that, therefore unable to see or know that Ethan was outside. So how did she know what happened to Bela, and who told her? 

My answer? Magda.

I did my best to follow the game’s timeline, but there might have been some condensing or stretching in order to make things fit. I’ve also included some brief cameos from other OCs Magda has interacted with. 

Please note, this is not an “Ethan Hate” story. Magda is simply reacting as one would in their given situation. Is this a sad story? Yes, in parts. Will you hate me for writing this? Maybe. Will you still enjoy reading it? I hope so.)

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“You must hide. The man is a danger, and I wish for you to be safe. Do your best to keep out of all this. If he approaches you, play the helpless victim. Do not help him, but please do not hinder him either.”

“But I want you to stay safe.”

“You know that I always do, dearest. He is nothing but a man.”

“You literally just said he was a danger.” The press of Bela’s lips against Magda’s was enough the hush the smaller woman and soften her demeanor. “Kissing me in order to maintain the last word is technically cheating, you know.”

“True, but I did learn it from you,” the witch smiled. “I won’t be long.”

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That conversation happened a little over an hour ago. Since then, Magda had quietly paced the floor of her workroom, occasionally stopping to listen for any sound outside her door. She prayed she’d hear the familiar drone of flies, but nothing came. Everything was unnervingly quiet. Magda did her best to reassure herself. She kept telling herself that the man was outnumbered three to one, that the girls would work together and remove him as a threat, that they couldn’t be killed.

The sudden barrage of nearby gunfire and shattering glass ripped away any comfort she had tried to retain. It wasn’t terribly close, but then again it wasn’t terribly far either. Worse yet, there was no celebratory laughter that accompanied the silence that soon followed. Worry gnawed at Magda’s insides, and she did the one thing that Bela had asked her not to do. She unlocked the door to her workshop, and left her hiding place.

Magda went through the halls in sock feet, wanting to make as little sound as possible. The last thing she needed was to run into the man by accident. Thankfully, the courtyard was deserted. Freezing, especially without shoes or a coat, but it was empty. Even better, the door leading to the dining room was still locked. That meant the intruder had not found a key or harassed one of the few servants who had a skeleton key to the various entryways. Magda was one of those servants. Being a seamstress, and a trusted one at that, gave her a few perks.

As much as she wanted to rush in, Magda knew better. She turned the key slowly, as the locks were heavy and made a distinct and rather loud click when undone. The door she also took time opening, just in case there was an armed madman standing on the other side. Finding none, she closed and relocked the door behind her. Best to keep him confined.

Cassandra’s laughter coming from the Main Hall signaled that she was keeping the intruder well occupied and, rather than risk an interruption, Magda turned to the much plainer door which lead to the kitchen.

Normally the kitchen was a warm place, full of the sounds and smells of cooking food for the human staff, but the rush of cold air that blew in as she entered confirmed a fear she had. Hurrying past the preparation table and ducking under the cuts of drying meat, Magda stopped short in the doorway to the connected storage room. What she saw squeezed her heart like a vice, making it difficult to breath.

Shattered glass and the remains of broken boards framed a large, collapsed pile of frozen flies. The room wavered and suddenly felt hot, despite the open windows. Maybe… maybe this wasn’t Bela, she tried to reason. It wasn’t Cassandra, as she had heard her laughter not moments ago. A small, hateful voice in her head whispered that this was Daniela, that Bela was still alive inside the castle, perhaps happily carving up the man with her sister, and what laid before her was Daniela. Magda hated to even think that, but right now she was mental begging the powers that be for that to be the truth.

Step by hesitant step, she approached the pile, acting as a windbreak when she knelt between it and the broken window. Tears began to cloud her vision as she saw pale yellow flies mixed in amongst the brown and black insects. Again, her heart wrenched inside her chest. Her skin burned and the walls of the room closed in as her anger grew and burst forth in a ragged scream of rage, sorrow, and anguish.

Why?! Why did he do this?! How did he even know?! Did he just get lucky with a stray bullet breaking a pane of glass? Why did he kill her? Why did he go after her? The cold would have been enough to stop her! She would have stopped the chase, and he could have gotten away, but he still decided to kill her! He killed her while she was hurting! He killed her while she was cold, alone, and separated from everyone. He killed Magda’s stea mică… her little star…

He didn’t give a shit about anything or anyone.

Magda’s guttural scream was echoed by a rasping, undead one crawling up from the once boarded up passageway that led to the dungeon. In her emotional state, she hadn’t put two and two together. The boards were smashed going into the storage room rather than out into the passageway. The man had come up from below, meaning he had created a potential access point for the thralls to get upstairs.

“Căcat!” she cursed, scrambling as quickly and as quietly for a container in the other room. It would take the thralls a bit of time to coordinate and stumble their way up the stairs, but they would eventually make it and Magda was not about to let those disgusting things trample all over what was left of Bela.

She would also need to tell the Countess.

Grabbing one of the large basins used to hold drained blood, as well as any discarded towels or cloth she could find, Magda carefully moved every single fly she found into the container, scouring the floor for any the wind may have blown about, but always keeping a careful eye on the dungeon passage. The last thing she needed was to be attacked by those damn thralls as she finished.

The basin was… not as heavy as she thought it would be. That knowledge made her stomach sink and made her feel that much worse. She was carrying her love’s body, and it wasn’t heavy. It needed to be. The woman was seven feet tall! It should have been heavier! These stupid, unimportant thoughts made her tears start to once again fall as she returned to the dining room. “Dammit. I’m sorry, Bela,” she mumbled as a few hot tears fell on the flies.

One twitched in response.

Magda stopped at that. She was seeing things. In her grief, her mind was clearly playing tricks on her. Bela was dead. The cold killed flies. She was dead and the tear hitting the fly only made it look like it moved.

That was when the worst feeling in all of creation latched itself onto her.

Hope.

Leaning in close, she breathed a few times on a small clump of flies, letting her warm breath roll over them. And then she waited… Her heart pounding in her chest as she watched for something. Anything.

…A leg spasmed.

It was small, almost imperceptible, but Magda took it as a sign. A possibility. A tiny one at that, but she grabbed onto it and refused to let it go. Hope was evil like that.

Covering the basin to shield the flies from the cold, she ventured back across the courtyard and towards Alcina’s chambers, locking any and all doors behind her because fuck this man and his doings. Make his shit life harder.

The Countess’ chambers were empty, which sent a chill of dread and terror down Magda’s spine. Had she fallen to the man as well or was she simply hunting him along with her daughters? Should she wait for her to appear? Right now, searching the castle was not the ideal thing to do, as she was unarmed, human, and she had no idea if the intruder would have mercy on her if she encountered him. Thankfully, her questions were answered as familiar heavy footfalls were heard coming up the stairs. Now all she had to do was explain to Alcina what she thought was possible. And hopefully not die in the the telling.

“If I can’t, I’ll do my best to bleed on you as I die, sweetness,” she told the basin of flies, trying to make a joke and do her best to smile. The latter crumbled as soon as the chamber door opened.

“Countess?” Magda’s voice was weak and shaky, full of fear, and she immediately regretted opening her mouth due to the look on Alcina’s face. It was one of surprise mixed with displeasure, which made sense as Magda should still be locked in her sewing room, not running around as she was currently doing.

“Are you not aware of our current situation, Magdalena?” Her tone was cool and reserved, as if she were waiting on Magda’s answer in order to decide the best manner of action to take.

“I am very much aware of the situation, Countess. Which was why I came here as quickly as I could.” she replied, uncovering Bela’s remains. The candelabra the taller woman had been holding streaked towards Magda’s head and the seamstress barely had time to duck.

“What have you done to my daughter?!” she roared, lunging forward and grabbing Magda by her neck. For a moment, fear and terror filled the seamstress’ mind, but she somehow managed to find her voice despite the vice-like grip upon her throat.

“It wasn’t me… the man… did this… the flies… not… not dead…” Darkness had started to creep around the edges of her vision before Alcina finally released her. Landing on the ground hurt, but the deep breath of fresh air she took afterwards was incredibly sweet.

“Explain yourself,” Alcina growled, stretching out those two words in a low and menacing fashion, one not at all suitable for a woman of her standing, but perfect for a mother seeking justice for her child.

“I heard the fight,” Magda rasped, throat still sore. “It was in… the kitchen. I found… Bela. I thought she was dead… but some flies reacted to my tears…. and warm breath. There’s a chance. That cold state they go into. She told me about it. Bela might not be dead. Only hibernating. If she can be warmed, maybe she can be saved.” Magda watched Alcina, eyes never turning away or blinking too rapidly. She didn’t want to give the woman any excuse or reason not to believe her.

The quiet between them lasted for what seemed an eternity, only to be interrupted by a low rumbling and draining of liquid coming from the next room over. They both heard it, though Alcina only gave the most subtle of glances in its direction. The pool in the Hall of Ablution had been emptied. The Countess’ iron grip was suddenly around Magda’s arm, pulling her back to her feet.

“You will take my daughter back to your workshop and you will keep her warm,” she hissed. “You will not leave her side, not even for a moment. Should I find you disobeying my instructions and wandering these halls while that impudent wretch is still in my castle, your life is forfeit. Is that understood?” Magda nodded, fear in her eyes. She picked up the basin, replacing the cover before being roughly escorted out of the chamber.

Once safely back in her workshop, Magda set about gathering her thickest fabrics; the wools, flannels, gabardines, and anything else heavy she had. She removed the blankets and comforter from her bed and did what she could to form a nest or bed for the flies. For a moment, she even considered cutting her forearm and dribbling some blood onto them, but if they weren’t moving then they weren’t feeding, and the last thing she wanted to risk was them somehow drowning in her own blood.

Magda did her best to obey the Countess’ instructions, as she was not about to risk Alcina’s wrath, not with her life on the line. However, if she did end up being wrong about Bela, maybe it would be better to join her in death. What was she thinking? Magda likely would die anyways. But, in terms of when, it would just depend on Alcina’s mood. So, the seamstress sat in silence, waiting and praying to hear the soft buzzing of fly wings as they slowly warmed up.

Instead, she heard someone faintly plinking the keys of the piano in the Opera Hall. Rather badly at that. Naturally, the all too familiar footfalls of an enraged Alcina soon followed. He must not have realized she was hunting him, Magda thought. Because what idiot would actually take the time to play the piano if they were actively trying to stay hidden? The brief retort of gunfire seemed to prove her point. Although she could only hear what was going on, Magda still had a brief chuckle as she imagined the man scrambling for his life away from Alcina.

Not that he had many places to run to. It was either to Magda’s workshop or the library, and as the noise of confrontation began to distance itself from her hiding place, she breathed a sigh of relief. The library it was then.

“How has this man managed to survive this long?” she softly asked Bela’s remains. As if in answer, gunshots rang out once more and the seamstress stood, wondering who he was fighting now. The previously reassuring knowledge that bullets couldn’t harm anyone in this house re-entered Magda’s head… but it was quickly dashed to pieces as she glanced back at Bela. Who had he gone after now? She needed to know.

For five long minutes, Magda stood at her sewing room door, with it cracked open enough to listen. But she heard nothing. No footsteps, no gunfire, no sounds of anyone.

If Alcina caught her, it would be death, a voice in her head reasoned.

So she simply would avoiding getting caught, another replied.

The distance to the library wasn’t far, and she could easily hear the Countess’ footsteps well in advance, allowing her to hide as she approached.

“I’ll be back soon, stea mică. I won’t be long,” she softly told the flies. A few seemed to twitch in response. God, she hoped that she was right in the foolish ‘not dead, only hibernating’ theory. Basin and flannel cloth in hand, Magda made her way to the library, hoping she wouldn’t need what she carried.

Her heart sank upon feeling the chilly air inside. Papers were scattered, vases lay shattered, and, near enough to be in the light cast from the glass skylight which acted as a central decorative point for the room, was another large pile of immobile flies. Magda actually needed a moment to sit and collect herself with this discovery. Little flies, whose bodies glittered in the light, matched Daniela’s hair color.

Alcina will weep, Magda thought as she did her best to keep her own tears from falling once more. Gathering up these remains took longer than Bela’s, but not because they were scattered about. No. For as messy and wild as Daniela was in life, she had collapsed in a neat little pile. It was the weight and knowledge that this was the baby of the family which made this such a long and arduous task.

“You’re not alone, Dani. I’m not letting you be alone. I’m taking you to your sister. You’ll be safe in my sewing room,” She told the flies. Could this have been the first sign of madness? After all, Magda was talking to a container full of potentially dead insects. She recalled the character of Renfield from Dracula. The man went mad in an effort to serve and worship his vampire lord. Perhaps she was becoming something along the same lines. Perhaps she was already dead; killed by the intruder, and this was her own personal hell of gathering up mounds of flies throughout the castle for the rest of eternity, all the while avoiding Alcina. If Bela’s nest was not in the workshop when she returned to it, Magda figured this terrible thought would be reality.

Thankfully, upon opening the door to her workshop, the comforter and blanket that Bela was nestled in was still where the seamstress had left it. So maybe she was not dead and this was not hell. Little miracles were all she could hope for right now.

Magda took her time making Daniela’s nest, listening for anything that would signal they were victorious and this man-thing was dead and gone. She shook her head a little as she used that term. Normally, Magda did not join in on calling men that, but this was a special case. This individual didn’t seem human. The fact that he could best two of the daughters worried her, and a dread feeling that, unless mother and daughter combined forces, Cassandra could fall as well filled Magda’s stomach like a lead weight.

The daughters were monsters, yes. By the classic definition, that’s what they were, and Magda did not deny any of it. Blood stained dresses, screams and laughter coming from the dungeon, or even the rare times when Bela’s kisses had a slight hint of copper or something raw tasting to them. They weren’t normal. Alcina was also a monster; perhaps even more of one. The height, the claws, the gray skin that she hid beneath layers of foundation. All four of them shared that same inhuman appetite for blood and flesh. But, they also had human tendencies. They laughed, they cried, they screamed in fright the odd times they were scared or taken by surprise.

Then again, humans could be monsters as well. History showed how terrible they could be. Magda was certainly no angel, and she had the odd feeling that this man wasn’t entirely a good person either. Maybe she was wrong. Magda didn’t know. All she knew was that she was trying to save the small group of friends and family she had left in this world.

Minutes ticked by and still her wing of the castle remained quiet. The longer it stayed quiet, the more she worried. If the man was dead, Alcina would have come to her workshop to see to her daughter. But if the quiet persisted? Magda didn’t want to think on that.

“Should I go out and search?” she asked her charges. Of course, no reply came. Magda thought she saw more movement from Bela’s flies, but she had no idea if they all needed to be restored to a proper temperature, like a hive mind, before they could respond. With the way Magda had layered everything, they would warm up slowly and naturally. No artificial heaters or fires were being used, as she didn’t want to risk damaging them. After watching both mounds for a few minutes, the seamstress nodded, knowing once more what she had to do.

The castle had an unusual quietness, a stillness she had never felt before. There was always at least some sort of background noise; the shuffling of servants, the daughters’ laughter, the general noise of a home being lived in. Where was everyone? Had the man killed them all? Or were Sylvia, Andre, Samuel, Bianca, and the rest hiding in the servant’s quarters, having barricaded themselves in? Vulga likely would have escaped into the walls upon hearing the first gunshot, so she was probably safe.

At least there would be some survivors of Castle Dimitrescu.

Finding Cassandra took a long time. Besides hiding from both the constantly patrolling Alcina and the seemingly trigger happy mad man, Magda had to think like the middle child, who had the tendency to spend time in the oddest of places. While Bela and Daniela could be found in seemingly normal locations in the castle, Cassandra explored. She found hidden areas that were unknown to most of the inhabitants, hard to get to, or simply dilapidated enough and impossible to access unless you could fly. Magda assumed she enjoyed being hard to find.

The seamstress had searched damn near every room, after having briefly hidden for a few heart-pounding minutes in one of the dressing room wardrobes upon hearing Alcina’s approach. Currently, she was sitting in the back hallway, taking a moment to try and mentally collect herself. Magda hated failing, and right now she was absolutely in sync with the idea that she was a failure. Cassandra, as far as she knew, had simply disappeared. Had the man shattered a window and thrown her outside? If that was the case, then the chance of finding the young woman dropped to impossible odds. The castle was surrounded by woods and cliffs with sheer drops. Maybe… if the snow and cold somehow preserved her through the winter, Cassandra would show up in the spring, like crocuses.

At that thought, Magda let slip a sharp little laugh while, at the same time, her eyes began to water. Cassandra would hate being compared to a flower. She would absolutely have hated it. And for as much as Magda wanted to continue to both laugh and cry right now, it would certainly draw unwanted attention from one of two parties currently in the castle. Possibly both.

Wiping her face with her sleeve, she allowed herself a few calming breaths before pushing herself back to her feet and continuing this fruitless search.

The slight draft blowing on Magda’s hand from beneath the door stopped her. Yes, castles were drafty, but not this one. Alcina made certain to insulate everything as best she could so her daughters could survive the winter in relative comfort. But, there was a definite bit of air movement coming from under this door.

Opening it, Magda found the Statue of Pleasure…. with an animal skull in place of the sacrifice’s head. Not even Cassandra or Daniela would be foolish enough to ruin one of their mother’s statues. So, on top of being a murderer, this man enjoyed defacing both art and private property. What the fuck was wrong with him?

The indignity aside, the windows in this room were intact, so where was the draft coming from? The only other option was the fireplace, but if the chimney was that badly cracked, why wasn’t it sealed? Crouching in front of it, the reason quickly became apparent as the entire back of the fireplace has been removed, and the hole led to a set of stairs.

“Cassandra, you little shit.”

Crawling through the passageway, Magda entered what looked to be the remains of a hidden armory, or at least a place to stash and work on things a certain daughter didn’t want her mother to learn about or her sisters to interfere with. It would have been a lovely little room had it not been for the gaping hole in the wall, letting in all the cold air. And there, near enough to the stairway, laid what was left of Alcina’s middle child.

“At least you were smart enough to fight him in a room without windows,” Magda commented as she gathered her up. Cassandra was vicious and violent when she wan’t to be, but she was also calculative and observant. Perhaps that’s why she lasted as long as she did. Had she sacrificed her sisters in order to study this man? If Magda were the girl’s mother, they would definitely be having a talk about that later.

With the last of the Dimitrescu daughters safely bundled up, Magda began to make her way back to the workshop. As it was nearly on the other side of the castle with no direct route, she took great care to move as quietly as possible. She paused repeatedly, and scanned the Main Hall, looking for signs of the the woman in white. For as large as she was, Alcina was a stalking beast. She could be incredibly quiet if she wished to be.

As she crouched in one the small balconies, Magda heard movement coming from below her on the floor of the main hall. However, it didn’t sound… right. It couldn’t have been the intruder, unless he was gravely injured. But If that were the case, Alcina wouldn’t have been far behind, and Magda didn’t hear her at all. Speaking of the Countess, it certainly wasn’t her, as the noise was far too small to be anyone remotely her size.

Chancing a look, Magda peeked over the edge, and a soft gasp of surprise, sounding so devastatingly loud in this silence, escaped her lips as she saw what was beneath her. Luana, the castle’s head servant, the personal watchdog for the Countess, laid collapsed on the marble floor, clothes stained red with blood. Where had they been all this time?! Magda had scoured entire castle… Had they been outside and only just now managed to get in? This just made her life ten times harder. Not only did she have Cassandra to carry back, but now there was the issue of Luana as well.

She could have left them where they were. She could have. After all, Magda was currently disobeying orders and Alcina was already displeased by her previous actions. She should have taken Cassandra back to her workshop and then returned. By then, perhaps Alcina would have discovered Luana herself and… done what? She was hellbent on hunting down the intruder. Would she even have stopped and tended to her servant? Magda couldn’t say. She also had no idea what would have happened if the man found them first. Would he finish the job he clearly started? In all likelihood? Yes.

Tucking Cassandra safely in an out of the way corner by the top of the stairs, Magda made her way down to her fellow servant, glancing into the Hall of the Four as she went.

The doors leading to the Temple of Worship were open.

In all her years there, Magda had rarely seen those exterior doors stand open as they were now. The Countess was strict in her orders about that portion of the castle being forbidden to everyone save herself, and now the seamstress was watching her tall figure ascend the temple stairs. An unknown fear filled Magda with dread at that sight, and she hurried towards Luana.

Rolling the head servant over onto their back, Magda gave them a quick look over. Buckshot, and a few normal bullet holes, peppered Luana’s blood soaked torso. A normal human would have been dead from such injuries and blood loss, but Luana was thankfully not fully human, rather a Lycan-cross. They usually preferred not to speak of their heritage, but Magda hoped they would be happy to have it just this once.

“Luana? Luana, dear, can you hear me?” she asked, opening their eyes to check for any sign of life. She was met with slurred, half-conscious Portuguese. “You know damn well I don’t speak that, but right now any response is a good one, so I’ll take it.” The bleeding had stopped and their breathing seemed normal from what she could tell; no gurgles, bloody froth in the mouth, or sounds of difficulty.

“…Apologies…” they said in Romanian, doing their best to sit up.

“You’re fine. I’m just happy to see someone else, aside from the Countess, alive,” she replied. Their uniform already ruined, Magda removed Luana’s jacket and began tearing off bandage strips. Or at least she started to, as a distant crash and a devastating roar from outside quickly stopped her efforts. Whatever injuries seemed to be afflicting Luana were momentarily forgotten as they did their best to stand, only to collapse almost immediately. As they attempted it a second time, Magda moved to support them. She didn’t even say a word or caution them to take it slow as the two of them made it to the open doorway.

And what they saw? There were no words.

It was huge. A great beast, vast and terrible, with an immense wingspan, lashing tail, and a toothy, gaping maw circled the top of the temple tower; sometimes flying, sometimes crawling along the stonework. It was pale white with streaks of pink flesh, slick and glossy looking as the sun hit it. Muscles bulged as if barely contained by the skin, as tendrils curled and whipped about in an independent fury. It looked both cancerous and incomplete while at the same time horrifically beautiful and awe-inspiring in some inexplicable way. And to top it off, as if in an absurd gilding of the lily, Alcina’s upper torso, looking flayed and monstrous, erupted from between the beast’s shoulder blades. Her voice was distorted, both by rage, vengeance, and sorrow, but also by this transformation. She was lost in this madness, fully given in to it.

Magda’s knees gave way, and she fell to the floor, unintentionally bring Luana down with her. The seamstress was lost. How was this even possible? How had Alcina become this gargantuan beast? Could she change back? A sudden sick feeling rolled over her as all these questions and more filled her head. She was sure Luana was thinking similar things.

All they could do was watch this battle as it unfurled. Stonework and roofing tiles fell freely as the dragon creature did its best to pursue its quarry. Gunfire was heard regularly as Alcina taunted, threatened, and cackled in her torment. The fight moved steadily upwards, with more and more of the building being destroyed until a bloodcurdling shriek was heard and something structural gave way.

Multiple somethings.

Large plumes of dust, broken window, and cracks forming in the side of the building were the indication that the dragon had fallen through all of the interior floors of the temple, landing with a massive crash.

Magda and Luana looked at each other and then back towards the temple. “How about we wait and listen for movement?” the seamstress started to offer, but the head servant was already stumbling towards the building, trying desperately not to once more fall onto their face. They didn’t get very far before collapsing, but Magda was there to lift them back up. “How about a compromise? We get to the temple door and listen before barging in?” At that, Luana nodded a little sheepishly.

If Magda had thought the castle had been quiet, the inside of the temple was a veritable tomb. She just hoped it wasn’t a literal one. At least not for Alcina. Let the man be buried under all that rubble. Unfortunately, her wish was not yet granted, as she saw the limping figure of a man leaving through the lower level door. All she needed was a gun. Why didn’t she or Luana have a pistol? One bullet through the back of his damned head, that’s all that was needed and all this terribleness would be over with.

But instead, Magda just stood there, watching him leave before her gaze turned to Alcina’s body. It was still that dragon creature, but she had just come to accept that this was the Countess. Luana was already making their way down to her, carefully using the broken rubble as a stairway. Magda reluctantly followed suit.

The beast may have remained, but the human torso that was Alcina? That was gone, crumbled to ashes. The body was also still. Seeing that, Magda sat down hard, shocked by it all. Luana at least made it to the corpse, but they soon collapsed as tears began to fall.

Theirs was an ugly crying, one that Magda had never heard from them before. It was a full body shaking, heaving from the gut sort of crying. Luana had been serving House Dimitrescu since they were a teenager, and they saw Alcina as a mother figure, so Magda could only imagine what they were going through.

Letting them grieve for a few minutes, Magda eventually stood and walked over to Luana, placing a hand on their shoulder.

It was then that the beast took a great, shuddering breath.

Instincts quickly took hold and Magda scrambled backwards, not wanting to risk being eaten, while Luana did the opposite and moved closer, overjoyed to see some sign of life coming from the creature. She expected to hear a scream or cry of pain from Luana, imagining the creature lunging forward and devouring the head servant in one or two gulps. But instead, when the seamstress looked back, she saw Luana petting its head, saying soft things to it in Portuguese as it just laid there, barely making any noise.

“You are either very brave, very trusting, or very stupid to be petting that thing,” Magda hissed, keeping her voice down low, as if raising it would trigger the beast to attack them both.

“It knows me… us. It won’t hurt us,” Luana replied calmly.

“How do you know that? How is it even still alive?! Alcina’s torso is gone! The thing should be dead!” In response to Magda’s outburst, the thing growled, slightly turning its head in her direction. “… All right, I’m clearly wrong in my assessment of life and death. But that still doesn’t explain why or how.”

“Separate functioning systems? Maybe it all… pinched shut when the torso disintegrated? Like a limb or a tree branch that’s dying? Save the main body?” Luana offered.

“I would have thought Alcina would have been the main body. Can she regenerate from this?” Magda asked. Luana simply shrugged.

“We take her back to the castle and see what happens over the next few hours or days.”

“Easier said than done,” Magda replied, gesturing to the rock they scaled down and the all too small door was the only other exit.

“If it is a simple creature, then it will respond to simple things like food. She will need to eat anyways. We lure it back with food,” Luana reasoned.

The kitchen was thusly raided and a good bit of the meat that was there removed; both cured and what was still fresh. Amazingly, despite having heard the shrieks of the thralls earlier, the kitchen was now devoid of them. Had they wandered back down into the dungeon after finding no prey? Or were they all dead? Magda could only wonder as she glanced towards that corridor, her eyes wanting to linger on the spot where she found Bela. No, she thought. No, Bela was safe in the sewing room with her sisters. Magda had made a brief detour to deposit Cassandra there, as well as retrieve a pair of shoes for herself, before joining back up with Luana in the kitchen.

Along with the meat, they also brought along two barrels from the tasting room, placed at strategic points along the route back to the castle, in case extra bribery was needed for the beast. By the time they had finished setting everything up, the Alcinadragon… for what else would you call it?… was on its feet, clumsily walking around its temporary enclosure. Naturally, after throwing down the first piece of meat, with it being consumed in a single bite, the beast’s attention snapped to the two of them as it began the effort of climbing its way up towards freedom.

Magda knew better than to run. After all, doing so would likely trigger hunting and chasing instincts. But still, once the massive forelimbs appeared and the beast pulled itself up and over the lip of the hole, she made sure to be a good distance away, keeping Luana between it and her.

While this was something she normally would never state, on pain of death, it was rather easy to lead this version of Alcina around by her stomach. So long as they had a trail of food, she was easy to please and keep relatively docile. In the end, they only needed one barrel as a treat, though it wasn’t quite that. As they passed it on the bridge, the creature must have smelled the contents, or perhaps recognized the shape…. but how that was possible, Magda had no idea, as it had no discernible eyes right now. Either way, the tooth lined maw easily engulfed the barrel and bit down, splintering the wood and draining the contents quickly. Afterwards, the creature seemed more agreeable.

Maybe it had just needed a drink.

By the time they had entered the Hall of The Four, the remaining castle staff had emerged from their hiding places. There were no reprimands or excuses given, only looks and sighs of relief. Bianca, Sylvia, and Mihaela quickly flocked to the form of the Countess who was currently gorging on wine and meat. Samuel latched themself onto Magda with a tight hug; one that she was not exactly ready to receive, but she was also not about to deny them this comfort. Vulga also soon joined in, likely in an effort to make Magda feel even more uncomfortable.

“If you two insist on being this close to me, I will be putting you to work,” Magda told them both before taking them to her workshop and retrieving the three sisters. Sam took Daniela, Vulga carried Cassandra, and Magda held Bela close. The urge to place the daughters next to their mother was great, but caution won out instead. Who knew if or how the Alcinadragon would react to seeing her children as nothing more than collections of flies? Yes, they were becoming more active, but there was no indication they were on their way to reforming back into their human shapes. They just need time, Magda thought. That’s all. They’ve been through trauma, and they just need time to recover.

Even though it was not yet midday, It was decided that everyone would spend the night in the Main Hall. It was the inner most room, central to most of the castle, and it was big enough to house all of them comfortably, even a dragon with a massive wingspan. There would be safety in numbers.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” Magda asked Luana quietly.

“No. As far as he is concerned, everyone here is dead. Whether that is true or not…” They paused, not wanting to say the unthinkable. Understanding, Magda nodded and finished their sentence.

“…It’s best to keep up that appearance.”

“Precisely. We keep everyone centralized for the time being. Close off and safeguard the exit points, stay quiet, and wait. With any luck, things will be different twenty-four from now. Or at least there will be an indication of a difference.” The look the two of them shared was one of tiredness and threadbare hope. There wasn’t much left to run on, but so long as the lady of the house still drew breath, no matter what form she took, they still had their duties to attend to.

“Even if the man isn’t coming back, no one is going down to the outer gatehouse and drawbridge by themselves. One of the lords is currently weakened, you are still recovering from being shot multiple times, and while my mind may be playing into the medieval hierarchy of things, I wouldn’t put it past other things going wrong and our current situation being taken advantage of. We’ll go together. It’ll be faster that way.”

Despite initial outward appearances, the castle was rather impenetrable once locked down. A drawbridge, three heavy doors of varying designs dividing the exterior gatehouse, a massive portcullis at the Carriage Gate, and a smaller, but just as fortified, portcullis on the interior of the entrance hall that kept the front doors closed from the outside. For all intents and purposes, they would be safe and secure.

More of the staff wanted to assist in the closing of the gatehouse, but they were dissuaded by a few other duties; securing the door leading to the temple, keeping an eye on Alcina, and gathering up any supplies they would need for the night. They were also greeted by another unexpected task upon opening the castle doors.

In the middle of the Carriage Gate rested four crates; three of a similar size and one that was noticeably larger. Nothing had been ordered, and the Duke had packed up his caravan, vacating his usual spot some time during the battle with Alcina. Yet the note tacked onto the larger crate was in his elaborate, flowing script:

I’d wager these treasures are of more use to you than I. Think of this as a thank you for your years of patronage, as well as a farewell gift for the time being. Keep them safe.

Bonne chance,

The Duke

The lids came off easily, and inside, nestled amongst packing material were… statues? Odd ones at that. Beautiful, crystalline, and perhaps a bit macabre, they were three busts and one massive torso with what seemed to be very familiar proportions. Either the Duke had a sick sense of humor or this was something else.

“Take these inside,” Magda instructed, still a bit confused as to what they were. “Be careful with them. Don’t damage them.” She then hurried to catch up with Luana who had decidedly not stopped to investigate the crates.

While neither of them ventured out into the village, the lack of the noisy day to day life that would normally filter up from it was obvious and more than a bit unnerving. Yes, there were the occasional barks and growls from whatever lycans were still prowling around the buildings, but there were no sounds of people. That lack of background noise twisted Magda’s stomach and made her raise the drawbridge that much faster.

“Tomorrow… Tomorrow, we will search the village. Look for survivors,” Luana reassured her.

“I don’t think there are any other survivors,” she replied morosely, as her thoughts immediately went to the one person outside the castle that Magda actually cared about. Stay safe, Donna. Please God, keep her safe.

With each barricade put into place, Magda felt both safer and more alone… cut off from everything. But this was what needed to be done. As the final portcullis fell into place in the entrance hall, a burden lifted from her shoulders. There was still that sick feeling in her stomach, but her back felt lighter.

Why? She didn’t know. She didn’t deserve to feel better.

Everything was starting to blur together, and she didn’t care anymore. Magda remembered entering the Main Hall and seeing the Alcinadragon curled protectively around the crystalline torso that shared the measurements of the Countess, growling at anyone who came near it. She didn’t care or wonder why. Someone called out her name as she climbed the stairs, but she ignored it, legs carrying her faster and faster as she went. She didn’t want to talk. Her head, neck, and chest felt hot. She felt smothered and unable to breathe. She needed to get away.

By the time she was in the Hall of Joy, Magda was running. The library was a blur, as was the opera hall. Her eyes were open, but they saw nothing, as if her brain was on automatic. All she cared about was getting away.

She slammed the door to her workroom shut, turning the lock as well in order to keep herself physically, mentally, and emotionally away from everyone. She managed to go a few steps into the room before her knees gave way and she collapsed into a heap. That’s when the floodgates of emotion just opened up. She screamed and wailed, tears falling uncontrollably. All the pain and the burdens accumulated from this day, from these past few hours, came roaring out.

She had no idea how long she cried, nor how many in the castle heard her. She didn’t know if anyone knocked on the door to check on her, nor did she care. She would have ignored it anyway. At one point early on in her anguish, her stomach heaved. Only bile came out, as she had eaten nothing this entire day, but the wretching continued until even that was entirely discarded from her system. She cried until her tears ran dry; until only hiccuping breathes and weary, burning eyes remained.

Throughout all of this, there was one constant in Magda’s mind. She knew that if anyone, and she did mean anyone, interrupted her in this moment, there would be hell to pay. The staff had seen her mad and frustrated before, but they had never seen her rage. If anyone tried to comfort or hold her right now, they would be met with punches, thrown objects, and a slew of filthy, hate-filled words that she would likely regret at a later date. Perhaps even shears to the intruder’s throat, if she could reach them in time.

She didn’t want comfort. She wanted this pain. She wanted to hurt.

But most of all, she wanted her Bela.

Eventually though, the pain did subside. It slowly dulled and dissipated. To say it was completely gone would have been a lie, but it had settled for the time being. Magda’s body ached, as did her head. The floor beside her was a mess, but she made an effort and took the time to clean up the bile. She couldn’t stand having such a thing lingering in her workshop, no matter her mood or the circumstances. The process also helped the seamstress return to a semblance of herself.

After a change of clothes, a quick washing of her face and brushing of her teeth, Magda made her way back to the main hall. Samuel was lingering in the hallway, shuffling around a bit in an effort to entertain themself while probably waiting for Magda to re-emerge.

“Hey, Magda? Are… are you okay? Do you need anything? A hug maybe?” they asked, holding their arms open. Magda just shook her head and continued on. “Ice cream, maybe? We could sit and watch a movie together Not a scary movie or anythin’, but I’ll sit and watch something you’d like if it makes you feel better.” At that, Magda just sighed.

“Sam? Right now, what I want? I can’t have. So, please? Just let me go sit in peace next to what is left of the woman I love. All right?”

“Yeah, um…. about that? Okay, so we brought the statue things in like you said, but as soon as we did, the dragon thing that Lady D turned into? Yeah, she got real defensive and grabbed the big statue and isn’t giving it up. So, we then took the smaller ones and the fly piles got really active. Like super, super active. I mean, they’re not buzzin’ around like normal or human, but-“ Magda didn’t even wait for Sam to finish. Once more, she was off and running.

The daughters were on the opposite side of the fireplace from the Alcinadragon, though pretty much everyone was on the opposite side from her, as she took up an entire length of the hall. Samuel had actually been right, as the flies were more active since the last time she saw them. While not swarming, they were crawling over the statues, or rather, individual statues. Now that she was able to look at them properly, Magda could discern the shapes of the daughters in the torsos. Bela’s she knew well enough, and Daniela was a bit slighter than Cassandra… and all the while the appropriate flies were crawling over the appropriate statues. She still had no idea what they were for, but clearly they held some importance.

Whether it had been intentional or not, someone had set Bela in the alcove under the stairs, allowing a bit of privacy and seclusion if it was needed. Obviously, Samuel or someone else had taken Magda’s breakdown into consideration. Normally, the seamstress did not enjoy having special things done for her, but at the moment, she was not about complain.

Sitting on a blanket with her back against the wall, Magda actually managed to take a breath and relax for the first time that day.

They were alive.

Whether due to the added heat, time to recover, or whatever these odd statues were, the daughters were alive and moving around. They would be all right. The Alcinadragon had a forelimb curled around her own statue, surrounded by her favorite maidens, and was practically asleep, if her breathing was any indication. She would be all right. None of the servants had been gravely injured in the long term. The current state of the castle was an odd miracle, but it was a miracle nonetheless.

Looking at the crystalline statue beside her, Magda gently placed her fingertips upon it, in hopes that it would pulse or feel abnormally warm. That wasn’t the case, but one of the pale yellow flies that had been idly traversing the torso’s clavicle almost immediately changed direction and climbed onto her hand. Smiling, either from happiness or exhaustion, she brought the insect closer as it proceeded to march into the palm of her cupped hand. It happily buzzed and bumped its head against her skin, settling down in the warmth as Magda gently stroked it.

As if energized by her touch, the fly took to the air and landed in the hollow of the seamstress’ neck, where it buzzed and bounced around more; its little wings tickling her just enough to elicit a soft laugh from Magda.

“Hi, stea mică…” she said softly, body instinctively relaxing to that sensation. Magda wasn’t sure if it was her exhaustion or something else, but as her eyes closed and sleep began to take her, she could have sworn she heard Bela’s voice in the drone of the fly.

I won’t be long.

EPILOGUE:

“Magda? Magda, wake up. Somethin’s happening,” Sam’s voice cut through the blackness of sleep. The seamstress groggily rubbed her eyes and looked around, remembering where she was. Instinctively, she looked over at the Bela statue, worried for a moment at that she would find. The concern was unfounded as it was mostly covered by a swarm of flies, more than what she had seen prior to falling asleep.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked, standing up. The Alcinadragon was still asleep, her harem of maidens still tending to her. If it was possible, she too looked healthier.

“There’s something goin’ on in the village. Luana told me to get you. They’re in Lady D’s bedroom.” That made sense. The Countess’ chambers had a view that overlooked the village. It was a smart place to scout from.

Making her way there, Magda discovered that night had fallen, meaning she had slept most of the day away. Why hadn’t they woken her up sooner? She didn’t need to have her sleep schedule even more messed up. However, the not so far off explosions made her decide otherwise, as she quickened her steps up the stairs.

Luana was out on the balcony of Alcina’s chambers, watching a veritable firefight going on in the village. Massive waving tendrils were erupting from the ground, knocking what looked like military helicopters out of the sky as explosions and gunfire rocked what was left of the buildings.

“Have they come towards the castle?” Magda asked after taking it all in.

“No,” Luana replied.

“Then unless they come towards the castle, it’s not our fight. I’m not about to start something with a group that has guns, explosions, and…” An airstrike briefly interrupted the seamstress as she talked. “Whatever the hell that is!”

“I simply thought you would like to be made aware of this. It was wise that we closed up everything when we did.” Magda didn’t know why Luana was making her seem more important than she actually was. They were the head servant. She was just the seamstress.

“…… You’re going to sit out here until it’s over, aren’t you?”

“Of course.” At that, Magda sighed.

“I’m not staying out here all night. It’s too cold. I’d suggest that you come in from the cold as well, but you’re just as stubborn as I am. I’ll be inside on the chaise lounge if you need me. Please don’t freeze out here, Luana. I’m not about to lose you after keeping you alive.” With that said, Magda went back inside and made herself comfortable on the Countess’ furniture, something she’d never do normally, but this wasn’t exactly normal circumstances. Come to think of it, the large hole in the floor was also out of the ordinary. That hadn’t been there earlier today… What had happened here after she left with Bela?

She must have fallen asleep, since the next thing she knew, Magda was woken up by the sudden slamming of a door, followed almost immediately by being rocked off the chaise lounge by an earth shattering explosion. Broken glass rained down on her as the shockwave smashed the windows. For a brief moment, she thought a nuclear device had gone off and she waited for the incineration wave to burn her to a crisp. When none of that happened, and the castle remained standing, she looked around.

Luana was crouched against the door leading to the balcony, covering their head out of instinct. Brushing the glass from her hair, Magda cautiously stood up and looked out the window. Smoke filled the air, but as the wind carried it away, she could see a decently sized crater in what had been the ceremony site. There was nothing left of the tendrils from last night, just like there wasn’t much left of the village.

“What in the hell happened?” she mumbled. “Do you even now think there are survivors?” she asked Luana. In response, they simply pointed to the distant shape of a quickly retreating helicopter. For a moment, anger blossomed in Magda’s chest. If that man was on that thing? How dare he be able to escape so easily after causing all this destruction. But the feeling and hatred vanished along with the helicopter. If he was gone, then so much the better. Better for him to be gone and forgotten than to remain a problem for them all.

“Goodbye and good riddance, stupid man-thing,” Magda said, before turning her back on the sunrise and returning, with Luana, to her family.

#drabble #one-shot #LONG oneshot #bela dimitrescu #Ethan Winters #alcina dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 1-16: 命运的拐点 Destiny’s Turning Point Translation

“Destiny is like a gust of wind… Red leaves flutter, flying away in the face of it.  And it is when the winds pick up ― That you meet once more…”

“Rather than daydreaming all day, thinking about how you can soar higher, perhaps you’d be better off first learning how to walk.”

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

I failed. And right when I was just a step away from becoming the champion too.

I felt an odd sense of heaviness overwhelm me during the long time it took for the curtain call to end, something that I’d never felt before. It was sort of a mixture of both an inexplicable sense of dissatisfaction and suspicion.

I don’t know how or when I got myself off the stage.

Sariel’s words echoed in my mind. He said that I’d completely disregarded the essence of what it means to be a Fashion Designer… But what exactly does he mean by that?

All the contestants walking in front of me were relieved beyond measure that it was all over now, but the more I thought about it, the more confused I got. I walked towards a quieter place alone.

The courtyard garden at the foot of the corridor appeared serene and mysterious at night. The bright moonlight filtered down, shining upon the flowers and leaves alike. The night breeze carried along with it the faint fragrance of flowers.

❖☆———————————★❖

I lowered my head and glanced at the potted plant by my feet. It was a flower yet to fully bloom, with many smaller flower buds hidden beneath its wide leaves, which were gently rubbing against my ankle.

It was akin to a small pet that was showing affection to its owner in a bid to comfort them.

Despite knowing that the notion of comfort was merely an illusion caused by the night breeze, I still couldn’t help but feel my heart warm.

MC: Thanks…

It was then that I heard the squeak of the glass doors opening to admit another.

Illuminated under the moonlight, the lanky figure gradually walked closer

❖☆———————————★❖

A crisp white suit and a pair of icy eyes.

MC: Sariel…

He looked a little appalled to see me here, but that flicker of emotion was soon concealed.

Sariel didn’t speak. He directed his gaze past me, staring at the plants within the garden. His eyes reflected the faint moonlight, appearing as beautiful as coloured glass.

He looked surprisingly serene here, compared to the frostiness he’d displayed back up on stage earlier.

However, the cold comment he’d given me immediately flashed back in my mind just as I was musing about this.

❖☆———————————★❖

Sariel: You absolutely do not understand the meaning of your given theme at all.

❖☆———————————★❖

My head had been in a mess back then, so I totally missed the chance to enquire further about it.

Perhaps his being here right now was fate’s way of giving me another chance to do so.

MC: M-Mr. Sariel…!

Sariel silently turned his gaze over. His eyes were as calm as ever, the only difference was his slightly furrowed eyebrows.

MC: I’m (Y/n), one of the participating Fashion Designers of the contest today.

Sariel: I know.

MC: I really like your works, and I’ve always seen you as my role model.

Sariel: So?

MC: So…

★Night Choice: Read his body language and remain silent. 

I lapsed into silence the moment I met his gaze.

That look on his face spoke volumes. He didn't even bother hiding the fact that anything I said would fall upon deaf ears.

Sariel: Are you presuming that I'll understand just what it is you're trying to express in your work if I give you a chance to explain yourself?

I looked at him in surprise, nodding.

The sides of his lips immediately curled up into a sneer.

Sariel: The organizer prepared hundreds upon hundreds of material choices. You clearly had the choice of choosing a more suitable material, yet you still used the most unfitting material: 80 twist Black Chiffon.

MC: That's because I wanted to express the tenacity of "Fashion Designers".

Sariel: You're only creating this to realize your idea.

Sariel: Be it high twist Black Chiffon, or those blasphemous roses that clash so terribly bad that it leaves people speechless...

Sariel: Everything merely falls under your own "Design Ideas", with no consideration whatsoever about whether this is the right way to go about making it into an actual product.

☆Light Choice: Explain your design choice

MC: So, I want to know why you think I don’t understand the theme. I hope I can explain just what the ideas that went into my design are.

I originally thought that he’d outright refuse me, but he never interrupted me, and neither did he leave. He’d only watched me calmly as I rattled off. Does this mean that he acquiescences with me?

I mustered up my courage and started rattling off my explanation.

MC: I chose to use Black Chiffon with the highest twist available, 80 twists high, not just because it can attain and support the design I wanted to go for.

MC: It was also because I felt that it was a good representation of the tenacity of Fashion Designers.

MC: And as for the rose ornaments… I chose it because it represents why I initially wanted to become a Fashion Designer.

MC: I don’t know others will go about interpreting what the term “Fashion Designer” means, but to me, I feel that…

MC: There is no one answer to this, and there’s also no way one can take it too far in any whichever direction.

After hearing me out, the sides of Sariel’s lips curled into a blatant sneer.

Sariel: So, you think that the problem here lies with the way you think, and hence, your idea. That’s why you’re trying so hard to explain and make it clear to me, am I right?

MC: …Is it not?

Sariel: Your sheer lack of understanding is astounding.

Sariel: 80 twist Black Chiffon might be able to support and display the design you wish for it to. But for something that’s being made into a top hat, this high twist amount is the most unsuitable for the task.

Sariel: You’ve chucked the elegance aside, completely disregarded the volume it is supposed to have, and most importantly, it is utterly uncomfortable to wear.

Sariel: There are better ways you could represent “Roses” if you so wished. You shouldn’t have forcibly added this artefact that clashes with the whole outlook of the piece to your work.

Sariel: Only mediocre people will wish to attain recognition through their explanations.

Sariel: Everyone out there will only be able to grasp what it is you’re trying to convey through your work.

Sariel: In your work… That’s if we can even call that a piece of work…

Sariel: I don’t know why you have placed so much sentiment into it. So much, that it has totally lost its purpose as a hat.

He was surprisingly serious when it came to talking about design itself, much unlike the arrogance and iciness he’d displayed back on stage.

Sariel: Designers ought to know just what the product is being created for.

Sariel: You do not yet hold the qualities of what it takes to be a good Designer.

Sariel: Rather than daydreaming all day, thinking about how you can soar higher, perhaps you’d be better off first learning how to walk.

His words were like a bullet, piercing me right through the heart. I stared at him, stunned and unable to form a single word.

He was absolutely right. I’d always gone straight for the concept. Whilst my heart wanted to explore new concepts within the given theme, it’d also ignored the most important thing.

I bowed to him in utter seriousness.

MC: I understand. I will do my best to correct that. Thank you.

Sariel: … What you intend to do from now on is none of my concern.

It was as if he’d reverted back into the judge, atop a pedestal and far out of reach. A completely different person from the one who’d been seriously discussing my design with me just moments earlier.

Watching his retreating figure, I felt nothing short of conflicted.

It was almost as if I’d gotten the answer to the question that had been nagging at the back of my mind for some time now in this unpleasant exchange of ours.

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 1-14) | Next Part: (Chapter 1-19 Light) / (Chapter 1-19 Night)

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #萧逸 #Osborn #齐司礼 #Sariel #陆沉 #Evan #查理苏 #Charlie #夏鸣星 #Jesse #For Light and Night

[pretend-writer]

Invisible Man (Diego Hargreeves x reader)

Summary: Y/N confesses her crush to her best friend, Diego who happens to be someone who he is very familiar and close with.

Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x reader

Title Reference: Invisible Man x 98 Degrees

Word Count: 2.3k words

Warning: swearing, mention of death, fluff

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

Diego’s POV

This man was all Y/N talked about, always wondering if this superhero was hiding among us just like us human beings. Was he a waiter at a local restaurant or was he working as a business man? 

My response was always ‘Yeah, maybe you’ve already met him.’ She would always laugh and say ‘No, there’s no way. I would know if I’ve met him.’ 

What she doesn’t know was that the guy she’s crushing over was me. Not me, me. But me in disguise.

The superpower I had was in my blood since I was born. My siblings and I were adopted by a man who raised us as a group of heroes that would stop crimes around town. 

Father named us by numbers, we never had a name. Until our "robot" mother decided to give us a name, since then I've been called Diego. To my father however, I was always Number Two.

He treated us the way he named us, some object for his experiment. Me and my six other siblings were nothing but a tool for his amusement. I always enjoyed fighting crimes because it made the rest of the town happy but I missed every single childhood that "normal" kids had.

Growing up in this household, I started to realize I had enough of my father's experiment. When I was old enough to leave my father and this "fantastic group" that he would call The Umbrella Academy, I walked through that front door and never looked back. That was the day I decided to throw away everything I was and live as Diego Hargreeves, a normal man with normal dreams.

But it wasn't for long.

I missed the feeling of accomplishment and the sense of worth I had when I fought the bad guys; the only time I felt like I was something, like I mattered to the world. That was when I decided I was going to be Number Two once again.

This time, I kept it a secret and hid my identity. Showing my true self would've been exactly what my father wanted; fame and fortune. I didn't want that, however; I did it for me and to save the citizens of this town. I didn't care for all of that other crap. Besides, Diego was the new me and I couldn't give that up.

Then I met Y/N, the person I've been in love with since I've laid eyes on her. She came by for boxing lessons one day and from that moment I knew she was someone special.

We've grew closer, eventually going to places like watching movies or mini-golfing. She would even invite me to her friends' house for parties and introduce me to them. This was the first time I felt like a part of something important, a family.

I always had that thought in my head where I told myself "Maybe she feels the same way." There were moments where I wanted to tell her the truth; my true feelings toward her. Then that one day when I planned everything out, that was when she started talking about Number Two.

"Number Two is so brave."

"I wonder if he's alone and needs a friend."

"He's always saving everyone, that's the most selfless thing anyone can do."

It was just so hard to see someone you love talk about another man. Especially when that person was someone you were really familiar with.

Some days I wanted to tell her that I was him. The person who she was looking for, the man of her dreams was right there in front of her.

But how can I?

She loved the man that was selfless and caring, saving everyone in the city one by one. Y/N loves the thrill of the mystery behind Number Two, his hidden identity and figure out who he can possibly be.

Not only will that ruin her fantasy, she would be disappointed that it would be me. Seeing her reaction would just crush me. It also wasn't worth losing an amazing friendship over. There was no way I could live without her, I couldn't lose her.

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

'A ski trip?' I questioned Y/N as I sipped my coffee. 'It's in the middle of January, probably the coldest time of the year. You sure you want to go?'

'Diego, I've been planning this trip for months. You know how much I need this.' She did her puppy dog face, knowing there was no resisting.

Rolling my eyes, I chuckled. 'You'd go anyways even if I say it's a little dangerous. There's no stopping you.'

'That's right.' She grinned, 'Besides, it wouldn't be as tragic if something happened to me anyways.'

'Why would you say that?' I frowned, not waiting anything bad to happen to her.

'Number Two might come and save me.' Her grin got wider as she fantasized about being rescued. 'Wouldn't that be romantic?'

Faking a smile, I nodded. 'I guess but I wouldn't know though, I don't know anything about romance.'

'You don't have anyone you admire, Diego?'

'No.' Maybe I answered too quickly as I tried to hide my feelings. It didn't really matter because Y/N knew me too well and detected my fib easily.

'Well, whoever the girl is Diego, she must be really great.' She giggled.

'Yeah, she's amazing and beautiful.' I smiled but deep down I wasn't feeling alright. All those words were towards her but she didn't even know how great she was.

Y/N finished her coffee as she started eating her pastry. 'You know, we can invite you to the ski trip and maybe you'll be able to hit it off with this mystery girl.'

'No, no. I'd prefer to enjoy my Y/N free weekend.' She gasped and hit me on my arm playfully. 'I'm not joking.'

'Har har. I know you'll definitely miss me, Diego.'

'Yeah, I will.' This time, I didn't joke. It was only for a few days away from her but I know I'd think about her all the time.

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

Y/N’s POV

Diego was right

I hated admitting he was right but dammit he was. I was walking around a snow storm which of course had to be on the day when my friends and I decided to snowboard.

The vision was terrible and I couldn't see anything but snow on my goggles. I knew that my two friends weren't near me because I haven't heard them say anything for a few minutes now.

No matter how much I shouted their names, I got nothing. They were most likely long gone and who knows, they probably lost each other too.

The longer I was here all alone with nothing but the sound of the wind blowing, the more scared I got. I've walked everywhere but I could be just walking in circles. At this point, I didn't know anymore.

Suddenly, I felt a grip on my wrist and heard whispers in my ear. 'Follow me, I'll help you.'

With the wind blowing strongly, I barely heard what he said but I knew for a fact it was a voice of a man. I had no choice but to follow him, it was either go with him or die in the cold snow.

As the man led me to God knows where, I silently followed from behind him as he continued to pull me through the snowstorms. Even though I had a sense of relief of someone actually saving me, I could've gotten kidnapped by some freak. I still didn't feel a hundred percent safe.

After a few more minutes of hiking, I saw a small shed where the man took us both in. The place must of been some kind of equipment storage as I saw a few things they sold to us down at the lodge.

As I patted some snow off of my face and the rest of my body, I laughed. 'Thank you for saving me back there. Or kidnapping me. Either way I'm out of the snow for now.'

I heard the man chuckle but hasn't said anything else. He looked around the snow equipments with his back against me as though he was highly intrigued, I could tell he was listening but wasn't much of a talker.

Deciding to have a good look at him, I took off my goggles. Getting a clearer view, I've recognized the black outfit, it was practically engraved in my mind. Granted the journalists never had clear pictures of the man, we all knew the signature mask and the outfit he always wore.

'Number Two? Is it really you?'

He stopped moving and froze in place as I figured out who the man really was. He still didn't want to turn around but I wish he did so I could officially thank him.

'I thought I was going to die out there so thanks for saving me, uhm sir?' I bit my lip and face palmed, thinking to myself "way to go dummy. what was I thinking saying that!?"

Number Two paced towards the door, about to leave me in the shed. I went up to him to try to stop him. I tapped on his shoulder, 'Wait!'

'Oh, oops. I didn't mean to touch you I'm so sorry sir. Anyways, uhm. I really admire you and your work so the fact that you came all the way here to save me means so much. Just thought you should know.'

Number Two continued to just stand there, frozen in place; He hasn't said a word either. I didn't want to move either especially because scaring him away was the last thing I wanted to do.

As I was about to give up, he slowly turned around, revealing his face with a mask covering around his eyes. This was the first time that anyone has seen Number Two upclose as in the articles, they all say he would vanish right after he saves the people in need. Hence the lack of photographs of him.

If there were pictures of him however, I would've definitely recognized the superhero as his face was too familiar. 'Diego?'

'Surprise?' He mumbled, looking down on the ground shyly as he avoided eye contact.

My mind froze as I was still trying to put two and two together. 'Wait... so all this time, it was really you?'

Diego nodded as he scratched the back of his head, 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lie to you.'

'No, it's-' I stuttered as my mouth didn't keep up with my mind. After all, there were so many thoughts running through my head.

'Don't worry, I made sure your friends were safe too. They're back in the cabin but they were really worried about you.' Diego spoke softly, knowing that I was still processing everything.

There were more I wanted to say to Number Two but now that I found out he was Diego all along, I didn't know the right words to say. Everything was confusing at first but as it gradually started to sink in, I realized who my feelings were really for this whole time.

Reaching for Diego's arm, I pulled him closer to me and stared into his eyes, 'Who's the girl?'

He cocked his head, confused on the change of the subject. 'What do you mean?'

'The girl you said that was amazing and beautiful. Who's the girl?'

Diego sighed, fighting in his mind whether to say it aloud or not. It took a lot of him to turn around and reveal his true identity, he wasn't sure if he was ready to reveal his feelings.

'It's okay, just say it.' All this time I was blinded by my infatuation for Number Two, I blocked out my real feelings for someone else. 'Tell me.'

'Y/N...' He had a nervous look on his face, having second thoughts about blurting out the next words. 'It's you, Y/N.'

I caressed his cheeks, inching slowly to his mask as I took it off of his face. He licked his lips which gave away that he was feeling vulnerable. Diego and I knew each other so well, we knew the body languages of one another. 'You're not fucking with me, right?'

Diego eyed me up and down, then shook his head. 'I'll never do that to you.'

With my hand back on his cheek, I pulled him in for a kiss. Diego was surprised, not expecting this outcome as he paused to take his new reality all in. As the realization hits Diego, he cupped my face and finally kissed me back.

Slowly pulling away, I breathed heavily. I looked into his eyes and smiled. 'Number Two was some crush I fantasized about but it was always you, Diego. I'm sorry it took me until now to realize that.'

'Don't apologize for anything. I just want you to be happy.'

'I am, I really am. Especially because you saved me from freezing to death or flying away in the snowstorm.'

'Glad I helped you when I had the chance.' The cute grin slowly turned into a chuckle.

Furrowing my eyebrows, I asked. 'What are you laughing about.'

'"Uhm, sir. I admire you so much."' Diego mocked me and laughed louder.

'Ah, can we not relive that please.' I scrunched my face, closing my eyes as if that would help the memory go away.

'Nu-uh! That was too funny. You know, I was this close to laughing my ass off, Y/N.' Diego crouched and held onto his stomach, dying of laughter.

'Oh my-' I covered my face from embarrassment. 'I was nervous okay! I didn't know what to say.'

'Okay, okay. It was cute though, don't worry.' I gave him a death glare, knowing that he'll never drop this conversation.

The cute and romantic moment was over, but I'm not surprised because of course it was. It was Diego for crying out loud, the boy who thought "romance stinks." But man, I loved my best friend so much; I couldn't hate him.

He bit his lip to stop himself from laughing again. 'Fine, fine I'll stop. We'll just talk about it again tomorrow.'

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

taglist; @seiraswriting​

#the umbrella academy oneshot #diego hargreeves oneshot #tua oneshot #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves fic

[bgnmagic]

Frozen Dreams - Merlin Fanfic

Summary: MODERN AU

Arthur, Merlin, and the boys (the knights) rent a cottage by the sea during winter to take a break for a bit. The only problem is when Merlin discovers the heat in his room is broken and he nearly freezes to death on the first night. Arthur comes to the rescue and helps him warm up.

Notes:

All I wanted to do was whump my boi Merlin. Hence this odd premise of renting a cottage by the sea with malfunctioning heating, in winter no less. Places can be fun to visit in winter too! lol I also wanted more bromance, they are so soft with each other I just can't help it. Pretend it's shippy if you want but I'm all for them being nice and sweet cause they are besties.

----

A heavy thump roused Arthur from sleep. Unsure if what he’d heard was merely part of his dream, he waited. Turning over to face the door Arthur shivered despite being covered in a down comforter. This place felt abnormally frigid; hopefully the rest of their trip would still be fun. After a few minutes Arthur didn’t hear anything else and decided to go back to sleep. It was far too cold to go outside in the hallway to investigate anyway.

Burrowing down into the bedding Arthur let his eyes slip closed. Then, he heard it again; there was something or someone in the hallway. Who in their right mind would be out in the middle of the night trying to break into their rental cottage? Everyone had drunk enough at dinner to be passed out right now. Easing out from under the covers Arthur bit back a hiss at the cold floor. Even wearing socks didn’t help dampen the sensation.

Sneaking over to the door he listened, but it was silent save for an odd chattering noise. Great, did they have a mouse problem to deal with as well? Unfortunately, nothing prepared Arthur for what he saw when he slowly pulled the bedroom door open.  

“Merlin?!” he half whispered in shock. His friend was sitting partially crumpled on the floor, hugging himself and shaking. Upon hearing his name Merlin lifted his head and looked about ready to cry. It was too dim in the hallway to really see clearly but it seemed as though Merlin was wearing his coat over his pajamas. “What’s happened? Are you hurt?” Arthur tried again. Merlin shook his head and attempted to shrug, although it looked more like an invisible force was shaking him violently.

Springing into action Arthur grabbed Merlin by his arms and hauled him upright. The younger man barely held his own weight as Arthur dragged him into his room and set Merlin down on the edge of the bed. Reaching out Arthur nearly knocked over the bedside lamp fumbling with the switch. When a soft yellow light set the room aglow, Arthur felt his insides twist. Merlin looked terrible.

His friend was pale and his lips almost looked blue. Panicking for a moment that Merlin had gone outside Arthur began checking for injuries. Maybe he’d been sleepwalking? However, they’d been friends for years and Merlin had never admitted to such behavior.  Finding nothing out of place after a cursory check Arthur decided to address the most pressing matter, Merlin was freezing.

“Come on let’s get you warmed up okay?” Taking stock of what Merlin was wearing revealed a thin pair of cotton pants and a button down flannel shirt. All of this had been topped off with Merlin’s ridiculously large puffy down coat. “Um, can we switch out the coat for something less bulky?” Arthur asked as he held Merlin by the shoulders. The lack of response was beginning to concern Arthur. It was almost as if Merlin had checked out mentally.

Too focused on Merlin’s well-being Arthur flinched when the door suddenly creaked and opened. Lancelot poked his head in looking a little worse for wear, “Wha’s going on?”

“Merlin’s not well, you can help actually,” Arthur replied reaching out and dragging Lancelot into the space. “I found him in the hallway a few minutes ago and he’s nearly frozen.  What’s the best way to help him warm up?”

Lancelot sobered immediately once he laid eyes on Merlin’s still shaking form; he took his job as a nurse seriously even when he wasn’t at work. “Do you have a spare jumper? Extra layers will help considerably. Then we can get him back to bed with some more blankets.”

“No, no, no, m’n-not going b-back in that ice b-box,” Merlin exclaimed, shaking his head vehemently.

Relieved that Merlin was at least communicating with them now, Arthur was still confused. “What are you going on about?”

“My r-room, is fre-freezing, c-can’t sleep.”

“I’ll go check, you help him change okay,” Lancelot offered before he disappeared through the door.

“P-please don’t kick me o-out,” Merlin begged.

“Idiot, I’m not going to kick you out. My bed is big enough, we can share.” Merlin slumped in relief and nearly fell off the bed in the process. Scrambling to catch him Arthur sat down and put an arm around Merlin’s shoulders. “Get that lumpy coat off and I’ll give you a nice cozy jumper instead.”

Merlin nodded and shrugged out of his coat. Arthur was already in motion, peeling off his own jumper; it was warm and just what Merlin needed.

‘C-can’t take this, it—it’s yours,” Merlin protested weakly.

“Shut up and put it on, I’ve got more.”

Merlin didn’t argue as he took the garment and quickly tugged it over his head. The small smile that graced Merlin’s trembling lips was enough to spur Arthur onto his next plan.

“Get under the covers, no need to be sitting here when you could be getting even warmer.” Guiding Merlin backward Arthur pulled the covers aside and watched as his friend burrowed into the bedding.

“R’thur, this is s-so warm,” Merlin mumbled quietly.

“I know, I’ll grab another blanket, just stay there,” Arthur was happy he’d thought to tuck Merlin into his side of the bed. It was already warm from earlier. Lancelot came back when Arthur was unfurling the last extra blanket he could find over Merlin. The look on Lancelot’s face was worrying. “What’s wrong?” Arthur asked.

“The heat stopped working in that room, plus I found a draft. A whole chunk of one of the window frames is missing. The curtain was hiding it!” Lancelot hissed. “No wonder Merlin was freezing, that room really is an ice box.”

“Shit, he could have frozen --, “Arthur trailed off, he didn’t want to think about the worst case scenario if Merlin hadn’t woken up in time.

“Keep an eye on him tonight and make sure he warms up, if anything changes come get me,” Lancelot instructed.    

“Should we be worried about Merlin getting sick or anything?” Arthur asked.  

“Merls, how ya feeling bud, any better?” Lancelot asked of the lump on the bed, by way of an answer.

“M’warmmmm,” was the garbled response.

“Tell us if you need anything okay?”

“Mhmmm, m’good now, m’warm.”

“I think you found him in time, we can talk more in the morning. One thing is certain no one is sleeping in that room. It’s not habitable in this weather,” said Lancelot.

“Oh, I’ll be calling about that in the morning, this is unacceptable,” Arthur huffed.

Lancelot nodded and went back to his room. It appeared they’d not woken anyone else up, that was a blessing. Arthur knew Merlin hated to be the center of attention. Turning back to his friend all Arthur could see what a tuft of black hair sticking out. Merlin had made himself a cocoon with the blankets, guess he was feeling better.

Quickly grabbing another jumper Arthur wasted no time in crawling back into bed and turning off the light. No sooner had the room plunged into darkness did Arthur feel something cold touch his hand under the covers. “God Merlin your fingers are still ice,” he hissed. Taking Merlin’s hand in his own he held it tight. Merlin didn’t say anything but Arthur felt him squeeze back once or twice.

After a few minutes Arthur deemed his job complete and let go only to have the other hand thrust his way. Smiling Arthur took hold and warmed it up as well. “I’m not holding your feet, so don’t get any ideas,” he teased. Merlin snorted softly but kept quiet.

When Merlin’s hand wasn’t ice cold anymore Arthur assumed they’d both go back to sleep, but the younger man kept fidgeting next to him. Something was still on his mind. “Are you warmed up yet?” Arthur checked.

“Mostly, but can I um, can we um, sleep back to back?”

“I’m onto you Merlin, you’re trying to leach more of my body heat off me,” Arthur complained halfheartedly as he turned around in the bed to do as Merlin asked. The minute Merlin’s lithe frame leaned into him Arthur heard a content sigh. When two cold feet started to tangle with his own legs Arthur flinched but stayed put. “How are you this cold?!”

“Dunno, but this feels really nice.”

“Think you can sleep now?”

“Yeah, thanks for helping, I was so cold I didn’t know what to do,” Merlin admitted.

“Don’t worry about it, you know you can always come to me for help, you’re my best friend Merlin.”

“I know, I didn’t want to bother you though, I --,” Merlin paused to yawn loudly before he went quiet.

“You what?” Arthur asked, “Did you fall asleep over there?”

“Hmmm, ur’warm.”

Chuckling Arthur shook his head and gave up trying to continue the conversation, Merlin was clearly very tired. “Go to sleep, we’ll talk more in the morning.” A faint hummed acknowledgement was all Arthur received followed by the sound of Merlin’s breathing evening out. Thanking god he’d found Merlin in time, Arthur pushed back a little more and wrapped the blanket tightly around his shoulders. The extra warmth from Merlin helped lull Arthur back to sleep.

--

Something heavy on his chest prevented Merlin from taking a full breath. Struggling to move he soon realized the great weight he was feeling was Arthur. The man was tucked neatly under Merlin’s chin with most of his upper body pinning him in place. Their legs were tangled together and if Merlin were being honest, he’d have to say this was the best way to wake up, warm.

Wondering if Arthur would agree with this sentiment he stopped moving and enjoyed the feeling. Last night had been terrible; this little moment of bliss was well deserved. The room he’d picked seemed fine during the day but once the sun had gone down it got down right unbearable.  Stupid cottage by the sea, this was supposed to be a fun getaway with his friends, not a death wish.

A soft knock on the door roused Merlin from his thoughts. Answering back he waited to see who would appear. Lancelot came into a view a second later and smiled when he saw them. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“So much better, I don’t ever want to go through that again, I’ve never been so cold in my life.”

“Do you need some help moving him?” Lancelot laughed pointing at Arthur.

“Noooo, he’s my human blanket at the moment, if you take him away I’ll get cold again,” Merlin whined.

“He’s not gonna stay that way forever, I think he was really wanting to explore the cliffs down by the beach later today.”

“All well and good Lance, but I’m not waking him up.”

Lancelot laughed and shook his head, “you’ve been warned. I’m going to go see about getting some breakfast started, I’m hoping Leon will get up soon and come help. Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival probably won’t be getting up anytime soon after all the shots they had last night.”

“That’s what they get for playing a drinking game!” Merlin huffed. “They’ll be in bed till noon most likely.”

“Hey don’t pick on them too much, it’s nearly eleven and you’re still in bed.”

“Is it really that late? Wow, I guess I was more exhausted than I realized.”

Arthur suddenly groaned and lightly pinched Merlin in the side, “Shut up, m’tryin to sleep. Lance, go away you’re makin’ my pillow move!”

Merlin rolled his eyes for good measure even though Arthur couldn’t see. After sharing a look with Lancelot he kindly waved him off and settled back into the pillows. “Can I sleep in here for the rest of the trip? I’m worried it’ll be cold downstairs if I try and sleep on the sofa.”

“Merlin, what did I just say? Shhhhhhh, and where else would you sleep, idiot, it’s ten times warmer when we share anyway.”

“Prat,” Merlin mumbled softly already drifting off again.

“Clotpole,” replied back Arthur fondly.

Merlin was far too gone to argue that ‘clotpole’ was his word. That conversation would have to wait until breakfast, or lunch for that matter. He was warm and relaxed. Maybe this little vacation wouldn’t be so bad after all. https://archiveofourown.org/works/33627802

#merlin #fanfic #bromance

[bowsie22]

Pingxie Week 2021 Day 2

Summary: For a city with such a high rate of criminal activity, Wu Xie has always been safe. Now if only he could figure out why? Photography student Wu Xie/Triad leader Xiaoge

It was weird. Despite being open for eight months, Wushanju had never been robbed. The stores around it had all been robbed multiple times in that period. He’d never been attacked on the street, despite multiple robberies happening every day. Pangzi put it down to Wu Xie’s stupid luck, but Wu Xie thought it was weird. Anytime he was cornered, or a Triad member came into the shop for their protection money, there was always a moment. A moment where the men would stare at him like they knew him from somewhere and they’d run. Literally run from him like bats out of hell. It made no sense. And he knew it was a weird thing to be upset by, but he was.

Which led to now. Wu Xie, in a moment of stupidity, decided to go into the city at night to complete one of his final projects for a photography class. Sure, he had his own store/gallery/studio, but that was more due to his uncles making sure he could look after himself. And to a lesser extent, Pangzi. But he still had to finish college, no matter what Sanxing said. And after taking his two-year break, possibly due to an emotional and mental breakdown after the disappearance of the love of his life, Wu Xie was more determined than ever to ace his courses and make his uncles proud. And again, to a lesser extent, Pangzi.

Hence the moment of stupidity. While the city was beautiful at night, it was also dangerous. Especially for someone was still trying to get himself back to full health after the aforementioned disappearance. Not that Wu Xie couldn’t defend himself. He had learned something from Heiye and Pangzi.

So, he wasn’t too nervous about being followed by the two men creeping behind him. Honestly, they weren’t subtle. He wasn’t surprised by the bruising grip on his wrist, as the men pulled him into an alleyway, slamming him against the wall. Wu Xie groaned as his head bounced off the wall, attacker one holding him against the wall, attacker two standing in the mouth of the alleyway, cutting off any escape attempt.

“Ok, suppose my luck had to run out sooner or later.”

Pangzi always said that his sarcasm would hurt him. Never mentioned a mugger slapping him around the face though. Spitting out the blood, Wu Xie realised a second too late that he should have aimed away from the expensive looking shoes.

“You little bitch.”

A punch to the gut had Wu Xie gasping for air, the one to the back of his head had him on the ground and the following kicks to his stomach and chest had him spitting up more blood. Typical. The first time he gets robbed and he’s going to get murdered too. Attacker one grabbed his hair, forcing Wu Xie to his knees. That was a knife against his throat. Oh God, he was really going to die here.

“Whatever you’re doing, make it quick. Traffic is starting to pick up.”

At those words, a car drove past, Wu Xie wincing as the lights shone in his eyes.

“Shit!”

He was thrown to the ground, the two men backing away from him. Looking up, Wu Xie could make out the scales tattooed on their necks meaning that they were from the Zhang Clan. Shit, why were the Triad attacking him, he thought robbery was a bit beneath them? More concerning, why weren’t they doing anything anymore? The two were staring at him, wide eyed and pale. Wait a minute, why were they scared? They were the ones who attacked him!

“Shit, it’s him. We’re not meant to touch him. He’s going to kill us!”

“No, he’s going to torture us and kill us in the most painful way possible. The top of the list. The one person in this city, this country that you are not meant to touch and you chose him!”

“We were behind him! It’s not like we were given a picture of his ass! Look, don’t worry I know what to do.”

Wu Xie had a head injury. That was the only explanation for attacker one to slip a business card into his pocket and beg him to visit their boss and explain that this was all just some terrible mistake. What kind of self-respecting Triad member did that? Reaching for his phone, Wu Xie decided that it would be a tomorrow problem. Right now, he needed to contact Pangzi and make sure neither uncle heard about this.

“Are you serious? No!”

Pangzi swiped the card from his friend’s hand, glaring at the younger man.

“Like hell you are walking into a Triad building. To do what? Speak to the boss, demand reparations of some kind?”

“Of course not Pangzi. I just want to know what happened last night.”

“You didn’t hit your head that hard Tianzhen. You got attacked last night and had to be treated for bruised ribs, a sprained wrist and get stitches on that head wound.”

“I know all that. I meant after that.”

“After that you were concussed and probably imagining things!”

“So, I imagined that business card into reality?”

Groaning, Pangzi dropped the card in front of Wu Xie, recognising the stubborn pout on Wu Xie’s lips.

“There’s nothing I can say is there?”

“You can say that you’ll drive me there and wait outside like a good friend.”

“Damnit Wu Xie.”

Wu Xie was used to people staring at him. He was emotional, loud and the nephew to two of the wealthiest people in the city. But something was different about this. Normally people looked down at him, the rich boy who used his uncle’s money to open his own shop/studio. Or he was looked at like something to be used. Get into the Wu heir’s good books and you have an in with the brothers.

Here though, people looked afraid of him. Steeling himself, Wu Xie stepped away from the entrance, heading for the receptionist. Taking the card out of his pocket, Wu Xie pasted his biggest, friendliest smile on his lips and waited for the young man to hang up the phone. Considering he worked for the Triad, the man looked fairly unthreatening. Long hair, glasses, nice jaw bone, Wu Xie supposed he was attractive, if not a bit twinky. Hanging up, the man smiled nervously at him.

“Hello sir. The boss will see you now.”

“What?”

“Kan Jian here will show to you to the head office.”

Wu Xie was so distracted by the man’s blazer with the sleeves ripped off that he was standing in an elevator before he knew what was happening.

“I’m sorry, what the hell is going on?”

“Don’t worry sir, the boss will explain it all. Just two more floors aaaannd here we are!”

The elevator doors opened onto an office that even his uncle Erbai would be jealous of. A wall of windows looked over the city, there was a fully stocked bar against one wall, a couch beside it, while a large TV took up the majority of the wall opposite. Directly across from the elevator doors stood a large, wooden desk, mahogany if Wu Xie were to guess, these desks usually were. More importantly behind that desk sat the boss, the head of the Triad. And Wu Xie’s waste of an ex who had abandoned him two years ago.

“Xiaoge?”

His ex-boyfriend was the head of the Triad. And still, Wu Xie was annoyed to say, stupidly handsome, especially in an all-black three-piece suit. Wu Xie had always been weak for a man in suits, especially when it was Xiaoge.

“It always felt like you were hiding something from me. Never would have guessed this though.”

Accepting the drink from the other man, Wu Xie tried to ignore the eyes running over his body and the frown on Xiaoge’s face.

“Wait! You’re why I’ve never been robbed or attacked. Until now at least. Why?”

Xiaoge settled onto the couch beside the younger man, an odd look on his face. Wu Xie knew Xiaoge, knew that he always needed a minute or two to think over his words.

“It was the only way I could keep you safe. I always knew I’d have to take over. Zhang Rishan gave me a few years to be normal. I wasn’t expecting to meet you and fall in love. When I took over, I sent out a picture of you and informed everyone that touching you meant instant death. Clearly, not everyone understood.”

“This is why you had to leave, isn’t it?”

 “This life isn’t safe. If I involved you, you’d be in danger. I had to keep you safe Wu Xie. You were and still are the most important person to me. If you got hurt because of me, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“Wasn’t that my decision to make!? Xiaoge, I was a mess after you left. I didn’t eat, I didn’t look after myself, I dropped out of university! You leaving ruined me. And now you tell me it was to protect me and you did it because you love me so much? What am I meant to say to that?”

“Tell me what to do. Wu Xie, please. I’ll do anything to make it up to you if you’ll let me.”

Wu Xie looked at his ex, mind racing. He knew what Xiaoge was expecting. That Wu Xie would give him some impossible task. But damnit, Wu Xie loved him. The last two years had been the most difficult of his life. Wu Xie had spent the entire time feeling like something was missing, searching for Xiaoge in every crowd, dreaming about him every night. Even just being in the same room as the other man made him feel better.

“Dinner. At the fanciest restaurant in town, tonight.”

Xiaoge looked at him, a small smile on his face, the one Pangzi always used to call his Wu Xie smile.

“Dinner, that’s it?”

“That’s it. And a very long, overdue conversation.”

“I can do that.”

“Good, see you tonight Xiaoge.”

Wu Xie turned to the elevator, making sure to add extra sway to his hips, aware that the older man was watching him. When the elevator doors closed behind him, Wu Xie realised that Pangzi was going to kill him for this.

Eh, worth it.

#pingxie #pingxie week 2021

[thattimdrakeguy]

Why people aren’t liking Tim Drake’s soon to be costume

I see people curious as to why people aren’t enjoying Tim Drake’s new costume. The most simple way of explaining is just to say it’s just bad character design.

This is the costume people aren’t liking

Even ignoring the color scheme, because the color scheme can work for some characters. It’s worked for characters like Wolverine before. So it’s not that the color of the costume is brown, black (maybe gray), and yellow. 

It’s just that it’s not a good character design for Tim.

--

A character design is supposed to let people know a lot about the character when you look at them.

With animated movies or shows it’s a little easier, you can make them look more menacing or sweeter just by the expression on their face, but with live action, and to a certain extent comics, costume design matters a lot.

Not to say how you draw the person doesn’t matter, it matters a heck of a lot, you draw the character in a way that doesn’t represent the character well and you’ve ruined the perception of them, but

costume design matters a heckuva lot too, because comics is a more realistically styled medium of art.

Indiana Jones as a teacher dresses in tweed and smart glasses because he’s highly intelligent.

Indiana Jones as an adventurer wears dusty practical clothes, and carries around a bag to keep his stuff in so it’s on him at all time, because he’s a (mostly) serious and practical adventurer.

You get a really good idea of who Indiana Jones is just by looking at his costume.

It works the same way for superheroes in their costumes if they’re done well.

With Batman he’s dark, mysterious, and practical. The cowl doesn’t let you see too much of his face, his costume is typically colored to make it easy for him to blend into the shadows, and his cape allows himself to hide himself more. It fits the whole entire aura the character is suppose to give off.

Spider-Man wears a thing full body suit, because he needs to hide his boyish face, and he needs to be able to hide it under his street clothes. It’s also has bright and bombastic colors that allow him to be seen at night because his personality is pretty loud himself. So it’s just very fitting in that way.

--

To use an example of this in the very same comic: Conner Kent has good character design, you feel like you know who he is when you look at him with a leather jacket with spikes, and an overall punk-ish look. You know he’s rebellious and not very shy about himself right away.

Even with Bart: it’s simplistic, easy to run in, and more or less just features a basic lightning bolt. He’s’s a simple thinker (which matches with the simple design), he’s fast so the tight look works, and he’s full of energy which also works well with the lightning bolt, it just works. It immediately gives you an idea of how Bart conducts himself.

Tim’s last costume even: Boyish with the short sleeves, slick, ninja-esque, with armor. He’s 16, dweeby and acts comparatively average so a boyish look really works for him. He has to be sneaky, he’s been trained to be like a ninja, and isn’t as strong as his other teammates. It had bright enough colors to let you know he wasn’t as shy or mysterious as Batman is, but it’s still dark in the right areas like his cape and tights to show that he’s at least still a little bit mysterious plus good at the sneaky stuff, and it also doubles as making his costume being more practical. It’s excellent character design through and through.

Amethysts costume is pretty much a BAMF princess. That’s her character.

Cassie and Keli are casual, street clothes, with only a shirt that tells people who they are, because they’re pretty freaking casual generally laid-back people (except when you get on their nerves).

and well, Jinny’s a cowgirl, she dresses as a cowgirl.

--

With good character design you just feel like you know about them from just one good look at them.

Red Robin was a good costume for Tim at the time of Red Robin even, he wasn’t acting like himself, so he didn’t dress like himself. It was sort of the whole point of the costume and especially the cowl. It worked well because of the story, but not so much the character all the time, as in, that costume wouldn’t work anymore.

Batman’s costume works all the time, because besides minor changes to fit the character at the time or what was the tastes at the time, the dark, mysterious vibe just always fit him. So that’s a different story.

--

Tim’s soon to be costume doesn’t have any character to it, I’ve seen people say it makes him look wiser, older, more dangerous, but that’s not his character right now.

He’s teasing more, he’s 16 still, and besides one page he hasn’t really been all that dangerous either.

So as a character design it just doesn’t work for who he is at the moment.

--

When you look at Tim’s soon to be costume, it tells you nothing about him. His costume is going to be colored in a way that’s more considered old fashioned, rough, and been around since it’s brown.

Hence why it works for someone like Wolverine, who is all of those things.

Brown can also mean loyal, safe, and dependable though.

Which does fit Tim quite a bit.

But there’s also the matter of his story now,

because the colors also mean, sad, isolated, and lonely at the same time. 

Which is the complete opposite of the personal story he’s in. Which is warm and fuzzy.

His story is finding his friends, getting his life back, and finally learning to be happy again.

The color brown doesn’t fit what his story or character is, and not enough traits of the color warrant it’s inclusion in his costume.

Making it a really poor choice.

--

Even when looking past the colors and you just look at the costume, there’s nothing to it. It’s a basic modern superhero costume.

It has more noticeable armor to restrict it from looking like the basic tights of a classic superhero costume, and there’s also random yellow lines all over it.

They don’t set up much of a vibe for his character.

It does nothing that a good costume design is suppose to do.

--

When you take away the colors of the other teammates costume it doesn’t change the basic details the design gives them. They work about the same if the comic was colored in nothing but black and whites (or at least for the most part if the style of the comic needed it, the colors are the finishing touches after all).

Conner still looks rebellious, Cassie looks casual, Jinny’s still a cowgirl, Amethyst’s a princess, Bart’s simple but hyper, and Keli is practical, while previous Tim was a boyish but slick ninja.

With Tim’s new costume you get nothing out of it one way or another, it’s bizarrely chosen color scheme is the only reason it sticks out to anyone, and the colors don’t work for the character at the moment.

It just has yellow lines. There’s nothing to the design that make it all that good to make it stick out as a character design. It feels like it has nothing to do with Tim, and what you could stretch to feel like Tim is typically because of the color and the color itself presents way more things that make it feel like a terrible Tim color.

So there’s nothing there that works for Tim as his costume. Which is why people really aren’t liking it.

--

The bases of good character design just aren’t there in Tim’s new costume.

It says nothing, and it’s color choices don’t fit the character it was made to be worn by.

Tan works for an old fashioned cowgirl who just lost her mom like Jinny, but it’s not for someone who’s learning to be happy and find his friends again like Tim.

--

If the theories of it being a costume Naomi gave Tim are true, then it could be excused a bit more, but if it’s his permanent costume, it’s still a bad choice of costume for him.

Being the colors of motor-oil and gasoline isn’t a color that should be the first thing people notice about Tim and his costume.

No one involved with the comic is even saying if this is gonna be his permanent costume, but the lack of anyone saying anything else just isn’t pleasant either.

--

Saying “it’s not that bad” doesn’t take away the natural vibes that the color brings to the table, or the lack of any personality to be seen in the costume with it’s detail.

“It’s not that bad” doesn’t make it good. It just means it’s not that bad to you. Which doesn’t take away from how that’s your opinion, but when I’m seeing “it’s not that bad” used to it’s defense, it starts to get annoying, because it feels like a lot of the obvious (or I suppose not so obvious for some) is being ignored.

You can like it though, that’s not why I’m upset, and making this post.

It’s just starting to get annoying because I see ones talking about people being upset at his new look like it’s completely silly to be upset, when there’s enough reasons to not like it.

When you really care about a character, he just had his own best design in years even, and it’s already being taken away after not having it that long to begin with to be replaced for something that really lacks in everything, it’s majorly disappointing.

--

Young Justice seemed really promising when it was first being advertised, and even in it’s first couple of issues, but when you start taking away the things that make it promising, of course people are going to be disappointed.

Don’t treat people like it’s silly to not like a costume just because you don’t think it’s that bad. Not every type of upset equals firey impractical rage.

Sometimes it’s just frustrating disappointment, because it keeps happening too much.

Tim deserved better, and a lot of people just seem to think so.

Even if people get used to this costume, and quiet down because nothing’s changing. That still doesn’t mean they did a good job on the costume, or that it’s good costume design for Tim.

That still sticks.

#Tim Drake #Bat-Family #Bat-Fam #BatFamily #BatFam #DC Comics #Robin #Wonder Comics #Young Justice #Young Just Us

[schiste-argileux]

Idw Prowl is an evil SOB (took him two years to send the Wreckers to Garrus-9 and help Maxy (who was protecting all the war crimes the Bots did), put Maxy’s torturer and a war criminal on board the Lost Light cuz why not, sent Pharma to Delphi knowing it was DJD territory)

Prowl... Prowl’s creation and competence in his area of work is astounding. He is brilliant, creative, and defiantly apathetic of this world. But, he is very human in his own way. IDW Prowl is selfish, yet not. He is a unique in that aspect because most people make decisions like his for the sole reason of benefiting themselves. But Prowl’s sole reason of existing is to create PEACE. 

Peace. Peace can only be done when people are complacent, happy, and satisfied. When things are stationary. Stable. 

But life is never stable. Elements desire to form bonds, yet are almost always leaning towards to instability... Prowl’s form of PEACE is a world where there is no fighting. But everything sentient requires to fulfill its desires. As long as there is desire, people will fight. 

A world of PEACE would be a world of full control, there are no surprises, no change. Safety, routines, and constants. No creativity, no development... nothing. stagnant. 

But I must admire Prowl’s tenacity and dedication to this world! 

He sacrifices everything for the sake of the directive, preserve cybertron, PEACE. He sacrifices his morals (Robot Gets Bullied By a Human), his dignity (Recent News, Cop Accepts Orgy For The Means of Establishing Peace, his body (Recent News, Cop gets Molested by A Spider for The Autobot Cause), and of course, thousands of lives (Not Recent News). :D Prowl respects and understands that there will always be chaos and instability, and he is so very flexible around it all! He literally can maximize everything and anything he has. He is the embodiment of consequentialism with a lil dash of politics. I wish my group project members were 1% as productive as him! Prowl tries to put everything black and white, and he gets upset when things get far more tricky, and wants to get everything in control so people can stay safe and remain in peace and not fight! And that’s a respectable goal! Control can be good, it means one understands and is able to retain themselves and the thing they are controlling. But Prowl doesn’t want to accept that there are things out of his control. And Prowl likes to think he’s justified when he controls the uncontrollable. 

I mean, yeah, if he didn’t do what he did, the autobots would have been six feet under A LOT EARLIER. Optimus is not a good leader, preserving organic life over his own soldiers? Psh. Look at Spike, he’s got valid points and can I understand why he left the ‘bots. Prowl’s probably thinking everyday, DAMN, OP, WHY R U SO DUMB. LISTEN WE NEED TO FEED OUR SOLDIERS AND PRIORITIZE OUR SPECIES LIVES INSTEAD OF THIS FUCKING CARBON BASED CIRCLE. HELLO??? And literally Prowl could have been like I’m gonna get ya assassinated so I CAN HAVE IT MY WAY. But Prowl was BORN for the RULES. To follow, to MAKE PEACE. Killing the prime figurehead is against that, even if it would make his life way easier! (hence, not that selfish and also sad that your life is the rules. That’s a short leash, but he makes due)

Honestly I feel bad for Prowl. Must suck to be so big brain that everyone hates you when you say the truths (but also you could learn some more tricks from Jazz to be nicer and hide the truth, but that’s scary because a nicer prowl means more people he can trick and use. Thanks Prowl for being so straightforward! Now people can avoid you easier). He's so straightforward about things that need to be done, he’s in constant denial about the grey area of life!

That’s why when Spike slapped Prowl with reality slaps, Prowl lost some of his shit. Remember, nearly everyone had the edgy depressed time in their teens or young adult years where you realize the world is truly unfair and nothing is black and white? Yeah. Slap that on a 6+ million year old robot with a battle computer and is capable of big brain CPU-age, and was literally built for the sole purpose of enforcing rules and making peace? And no one really cared about Prowl enough to understand him and his background. So Prowl goes through his angst moment alone with his huge titties, frustrated. THIS. IS. WHY. YOU. COMMUNICATE. YA DINGUS. 

Prowl doesn’t become a school shooter like Pharma cuz hes got bigger brain and a lot more power and control over himself, but he literally becomes Shadow The Hedgehog (Even if the world’s against me I’ll fight like I’ve always have). HE’S GONE ROGUE. MA’AM, SIR, THE FUCKING OREO COOKIE HAS TRANSFORMED AND ROLLED OUT.  like. OP was the one thing holding prowl back, which was good! But now prowl’s on the roll and bumblebee is too nice and passive to hold him back. + the bombshell brainwash? feels so bad. being prowl sucks. because Prowl is a necessary evil. 

At least he’s wonderfully blunt about his goal to create a peaceful cybertron, which makes it easier if you want to avoid him or smth. meanwhile you have fake people IRL that smile their way through and then slit your throat and you won’t even know it was them (hey jazz, no offense, but that’s what spec ops does). Fakers are the scariest enemy, but Prowl is still a threat, just not as big as a someone who fluffs you up on a balloon and then pops it. Prowl would just be like, hey, you’re really useful, come over here in my white van i wanna show you something and then maybe you get destroyed. But hey! You were the one with the highest chance of surviving compared to other people! Isn’t that great? You’re so skilled WOW. (Prowl gets punched. Again!) Prowl represents the necessary evil in society. We WILL ALWAYS HAVE EVIL people in this world. But Prowl is a far better evil than people who do evil for their own selfish reasons. It’s like how we have law enforcers and politicians . It’s basically giving them legal rights to do illegal things (lmao). BUT we need them regardless. We need those people to get their hands dirty, possibly killed, so that people can live in innocence and peace. 

I don’t think Prowl ever realized that he was a necessary evil, and when Spike showed him that, he was bitter. But he accepted it. Which I respect because most people can’t be bothered to understand themselves and just throw themselves in denial, and point fingers for their flaws. Prowl sucks up and understands who he is, and he makes the best of it to achieve his goal.  I mean, honestly? Prowl is probably a miracle worker. Not in a Ratchet sense. But look at the way modern governments run, nothing gets done, everything is stalled because no one has the guts to make sacrifices. Prowl would have gotten a shit ton of things done, man, and take quick efficient action. Even if he sacrifices many things for it.  (Warning. I do not condone any taking of lives, NO ONE has the right to judge whenever a person should live or die.)  Prowl reminds me of 秦始皇 (Qin Shi Huang), the king who unified China and sacrificed millions to make the Great Wall, canals, and road systems that last to this day. If it wasn’t for these accomplishments, China wouldn’t have been what it is today. Was it a good thing? For the future residents of China? Hell yeah. But the costs? Those are sins that can never be erased, and they are horrible and shouldn't be done ever again. Was it necessary? Perhaps. But that’s another discussion. Is Prowl evil? Depends on your definition of evil. Perhaps he’s justified, perhaps in his world, he’ll go down as the Qin Shi Huang of the Cybertronians. Regardless, Prowl like Pharma, is an EXCELLENT example to study on public ethics, and administrative officials should analyze him and learn from his mistakes and sins.  I think Prowl is not evil in a sense that he wishes to harm others, but evil in a sense of his apathy. Prowl is a necessary component to a functional society (someone to plot, to use people, to enforce rules even if some are sacrificed, someone who can get their hands dirty). He lives a terrible and sad fate, and I do not wish ANYONE to live a life like Prowl’s or look up to Prowl. Yes, he’s so clever and brilliant, but that kind of power will make you the loneliest person on Earth.

Thanks Prowl for taking the entire load of sin on your shoulders! Big MVP! You get nothing from the world except hate and contempt.  I would go on about him more but I have IRL stuff to do. I love Prowl as an example to tell people that MODERATION. COMMUNICATION. AND COMPASSION are important factors to have a healthy and good mental state. Prowl is the perfect example of someone who doesn’t want to empathize (haha so many people are like this today), who doesn’t want to try to use more braincells and friends help to make better plans that are more moderate and not extreme, and who doesn’t want to talk to anyone thinking its a waste of time or have difficulty explaining things.  BUT I LOVE G1 PROWL because he has far more patience and manners, and doesn’t take a darker, route for his goals. awhohdohd he’s baby,,, i wish all cops had patience and manners and in general open-minded yet cautious enough not to be taken advantage of,,,, perhaps then we wouldn’t have so much polarization and fighting with authority in this world.... 

uwuwwuwuwuw they did prowl so dirty in idw WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ;____;   Again, you are welcome to disagree or agree! I wrote this really quickly so I’m sure there will be points that could be clarified or edited. Prowl’s really complicated and I do not like to talk about current IRL problems, but Prowl represents a lot of problems in society. And I think it’s critical if we try to look at both perspectives to get an understanding on WHY people do these things, and is there a solution to AVOID making those same mistakes? There’s a couple of controversial things in this short essay I wrote, esp. about cops IRL. So feel free to have at it! Or ignore it! Whichever is more comfortable for you! Thanks for coming to my ted talk! Again, Prowl is a bad influence and a sorrowful life to live. please do not try to be like prowl. xD I won’t intrude on you if you do, because you have a right to live the life you want as long as you’re not hurting other people’s interests and wellbeing! 

#prowl #transformers #idw #asks #omfg #prowl is so horrible to write about #ugh #oof #idw prowl is the bane of my existence #i love g1 prowl

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Chromosomal Rearrangement

(Read Anne as Courtney!Anne)

A sequel to this fic

Word count: 3804

Prompt: “Would it help if I stayed?”

TW: Vomiting

———————

“You can leave...” Joan mumbled.

“Would it help if I stayed?” Anne asked. She doesn’t look away from George, who has his bony snout resting in her hands.

“I don’t want to upset you further.”

“I’m already upset, Joan.” Anne said. “And you hiding anything else will only upset me even more.”

“There’s a lot to know.”

“My schedule is clear.”

Joan’s bottom lip trembled, but she wiped her eyes to stop any more tears from coming out. She took a deep breath and nodded.

“Alright. If you really want to know everything...”

“Joey!!”

“...then we’ll start with that.”

Anne’s head finally snapped up from her brother and she looked around frantically. That voice sounded alarmingly human and very young. The thought that Joan might have experimented on a child makes her stomach turn.

“Who is that?” Anne asked. “You said there were only four!”

“Four that I wanted you to know about...”

Loud thumps came from the overhead vents, and then something was lunging down from one of the hatches and clinging to Joan’s face. The sudden appearance causes Anne to scream and scramble backwards. George’s arms fling out at her panic and he wraps her in a protective embrace. They both watch as Joan attempts to pull a furry mass off of her, but fails as it squirms from her hands and clambered onto the top of her head, then squeezed her skull with all four limbs in a hug of sorts.

“I missed you!” The new creature chirped, and it's clear, understandable English startles Anne because, out of all the things she’s seen, this one looks the least like a human.

It’s about the size of a house cat with a round body resembling a wooly sheep, but instead of wool, it had dark purple, almost black fur that stuck out in every direction. The wrists and ankles is where the fluff turns to flesh. It has human hands on the front legs and rat feet on the back. A long, hairless, pink rat tail also swished behind it. And, like George, it had an animal skull for a head.

“Hi, Eddie,” Joan smiled thinly, reaching up so the thing could nuzzle her hand.

“Eddie...?” Anne muttered.

“Oh! You’re Anne Boleyn!” The creature shouted excitedly. “Hi! I’m Edward! Jane’s son!”

“Jane’s son?!” Anne exclaimed.

“Surprise!” Joan said weakly. “Anne, this is Edward, as he said. He is my most...intriguing creation.”

Edward puffs out his fluffy chest proudly. His little child hands curl into Joan’s hair for balance. Seeing them on such a creature doesn’t sit right with Anne- it makes her skin feel weird.

“He... Well, a rat sorta jumped into the Gene Pool when I was working on bringing him back.” Joan tried to explain. “Hence why he looks like this.”

“It was kinda weird at first, but four legs is a lot more mobile than two!” Edward helpfully added.

Anne is silent for a moment. She looks from Edward and Joan, to the other three creatures, and then up at George, who is still holding her. He looks down at her and his mouth opens in a small, bony smile.

“I don’t— Joan, you have to explain all of this. Now.” Anne said. “What’s a ‘Gene Pool’? How did you get them to come back in the first place? I need answers!”

“Okay, okay! Calm down!” Joan said. “I’ll tell you, just—“ She hurried over to the door and locked it, seeing as they would be down there for awhile.

“But, like— don’t test anything on me.”

Joan looked at Anne with sad, wide eyes. She looked down as she turned the key in the lock.

“I wouldn’t do that to you, Anne. I wouldn’t do that to anyone.” She said. “I’m not like that...”

She sighed, shook her head, and began walking further into the boiler room with her creations tailing after her. Anne hesitates, then she and George follow.

“It was raining when we all came back,” Joan began. “So I assumed that water had to have played a part in our return. I don’t know why, I don’t know how, but water is like a base substance for this all. So that’s what the Gene Pool is. It’s water.”

She stops in front of a large tank with a step ladder pressed against one side of it. Joan glances at it for a moment before feeling around in the darkness and finding a desk. She uses a lighter resting there and lights a candle, then flips on a switch. The overhead lights crackle to life, but are still very dim. However, Anne could now see the complete mess that was the table.

Journals and papers stacked a mile high with even more books about human anatomy and anthropology open up to diagrams and explanations. Sticky notes and pages are stuck to the wall, too, with various notes written down by Joan, along with pictures and graphs. She really was putting a lot of work into this twisted project.

“I’m assuming the water isn’t just regular water, right?” Anne asked.

Joan smiled slightly. “Now you’re getting the hang of it.”

She reaches up and pats Edward’s leg, causing him to jump off and onto the table with a scatter of several papers. Isabel makes a small disgruntled noise at the mess and leaned over and began picking up. Anne notices how delicate her touch is; she’s being careful so she won’t rip any of the papers with her pointed fingers.

“The water has to be...enhanced, I guess.” Joan said. “You can’t just fill up your bathtub and have a person from the Tudor era appear. There’s a process.” She grabs an arm-length glove from the table and slipped it on, then stepped onto the ladder. “It’s called a Gene Pool because the water needs DNA to ‘activate’, as well as other substances like bones or certain herbs that are used in black magic. Stuff like that. You and the queens are what I call Organic Cadavers. You were brought back by those college kids through literal necromancy.”

“How does that make us ‘organic’?” Anne asked.

“Because there was no necrotic process to your reincarnation.” Joan answered. “No DNA or bones were needed. Some teenagers just drew some symbols and chanted a spell and BAM! You were back. However, me and the other ladies in waiting are Inorganic Cadavers. A Gene Pool wasn’t needed, but we weren’t summoned, either. Your existence drew us out of the Abyss. That’s what I call the place where the dead roam, by the way. And a Gene Pool is a direct gateway to it.” She pats the edge of the tank with her gloved hand, smiling slightly. There seemed to be pride glinting in her eyes.

“What are these then?” Anne looked at the creatures surrounding her.

“Incomplete Cadavers.” Joan specified. “In which, something went wrong with the creation and they turned out like so.” She gestured to them. “And so they ‘wear’ these false forms to shield their core.”

“Wait— false forms?” Anne furrowed her eyebrows. “This...isn’t what they actually look like?”

Joan looked her in the eye and said, “No.”

Anne swallowed thickly. Her skin was crawling, but her own intrigue kept her listening and asking questions.

“They’re made out of a compound called Necrosis—or that’s what I call it.”

Suddenly, Joan plunged her gloved arm into the tank. She leaned far over the edge, jerking slightly like she was struggling with something. Then, she pulls back swiftly and shows Anne the writhing black mass with dozens of red eyes in her hand.

“Necrosis is an inorganic material that’s created through the mixture of water, DNA, some base materials for stabilization, and just a little bit of black magic.” Joan said, literally winking as if she weren’t holding an ungodly abomination in her hand. The gooey thing opens up a mouth and makes a terrible gurgling cry that twists Anne’s stomach up in knots. It squirms slowly as if it were drenched in molasses, and a thin, inky tendril slid out from its bulbous body with a horrid smacking noise and whipped around one of Joan’s fingers, pulling on it sluggishly. “It gravitates toward living beings and life force so it can feed. Once it finds a source, it latches onto the sentient being and begins to basically parasitize and replicate the cell structure until it’s a near direct copy. Then, it, well, breaks down the person, essentially deteriorates them, and takes over their body. But that’s on unregulated conditions! That’s why you always have to keep bare skin covered up when dealing with these little guys because even the smallest bit of Necrosis on a living person can end in their very painful demise.”

Joan let Anne look at the mass of Necrosis for a moment longer, then dropped it back into the tank. She shakes her arm over the top to rid the glove of any goop, then stepped off of the ladder and walked over to a bucket of a whitish liquid, which she dunks her arm into. Anne watched as the surface hisses and bubbles in reaction.

“Salt water kills the bacteria,” Joan clarified, noticing the queen’s expression. “Now, I bet you’re wondering about what happens when Necrosis is regulated. Well,” She gestures to the Incomplete Cadavers. “this happens! Or, well, it shouldn’t happen. They should be more human, but—but I’m working on it!”

She momentarily searched her desk and then pulled out a piece of paper with a diagram of a human on it. Necrosis seemed to be melting from the body.

“You see, when combined with certain DNA, Necrosis will begin to form into the closest thing it can locate in the Abyss to the DNA given. So when I threw in clumps of your hair, he came out.” She nodded to George, who looked up and waved. “He’s the closest thing I’ve gotten to a full Inorganic Cadaver. He just has that skull because a deer skull was one of the base substrates I used for stability in the formation.”

Anne studied the paper she was given, not quite understanding, but trying her best. Then, her head snapped up.

“Wait— when did you get clumps of my hair?!”

“Why is that the thing you zeroed in on from all of that?” Edward asked from where he had been observing her confusion. He has his head tilted at the queen. The glowing orbs in the skull’s sockets blinked.

“Your hairbrush.” Joan said as if Anne should have known that. “It’s not that hard to get DNA when you work in a theater, Anne. I just go to your dressing room and pull out the hair in the brush. Simple! Of course, blood is the best reactant for Necrosis, but asking for that would just be weird.”

“Yeah...” Anne agreed. She hands the paper back to Joan, who puts it on the table.

“Moving on,” Joan said. “After the Necrosis has finished locating a host from the Abyss, I’ll pull it out and place it on the ground. There, it’ll begin to grow into whatever form it chooses. So I can’t really tell what age they may be in. The Necrosis chooses what’s easiest for it to replicate. And once it’s done with that, the substance should melt off and the Inorganic Cadaver will be there, good as new!”

“But that’s not what happened with these guys?” Anne said.

“Bingo,” Joan said. “I tried it too fast with John. I was too desperate and too stupid to regulate what I was doing. So I tried again with Juana. But I went too slow and so she didn’t come out right, either. Then a rat fucking jumped into the tank when I was working on Edward, and I don’t even know why Isabel is so tall!” She sighed and rubbed her temples. “And they’re not even the worst ones.”

Anne looked at Joan fearfully.

“Oh, Joan, no... Who else is here?”

Joan shuffled her feet nervously.

“Joan.” Anne said sternly.

“Maggie’s brother.”

“Thomas-?!”

“And your sister.”

“MARY?!”

A deep, guttural snarl sounded from further back when Anne yelled her sister’s name. They both look in that direction worriedly. George passed them and walked over to a labyrinth of pipes, then stopped. He appeared to be looking down at something.

“Mary and Thomas are not my best attempts,” Joan said, wincing. “They’re not in pain, so don’t worry. They’re perfectly okay, they just—” There’s another low snarl. She gets to the point. “I call them Necrotizing Fasciitis’.”

They walk over to the outstretched pipes and Anne meets her sister for the first time in five hundred years.

Mary wasn’t recognizable at all. She was a long, bestial mass of viscous black material- it couldn’t even be called fur or scales or feathers or flesh because it wasn’t. It wasn’t skin or a pelt it was just a material that coated her body. She was covered in clumps of red eyes that just stared in various directions aimlessly. There are several human arms that act as her front legs, while the back are huge and monstrous, fit with sharp talons curling out from the toes. A dozen more limbs are growing out along her spine, and a long, vertebrae-shaped tail lays curled across the floor. Her head is shaped into a snout and adorned with a mane of bone fragments. Three real eyes, although still deep crimson, actually blink and move and see. When she opens her mouth to growl, there’s several rows of reddened teeth inside.

“Mary, be nice.” Joan said. “This is Anne. Your sister.”

Unlike George, Mary seemed less than happy having to see Anne again. She merely sneered in a monstrous way and laid her head back down on her front legs. Her tail flicked back and forth in an agitated wail.

“You know, I expected nothing less,” Anne said, somehow managing to make a joke. Perhaps she was starting to ease up on seeing everything. Nothing would shock her after this, that’s for sure.

Mary hissed, and it sounded as if several people were trying to imitate a cat at once. George made a chuffing noise back at her and she glowered at him.

“She’s a little grumpy.” Joan said gently. “Here, I’ll show you Thomas.”

The man in question could barely be considered a man anymore. Stomach down, he seemed to be completely normal, but then you looked up slightly and got to see the writhing mass of Necrosis engulfing his head and torso that was covered in so many red eyes that it looked almost scarlet. Like Mary, he had human limbs and a few crags of bone fragments sticking out of the substance. He was sitting against the far wall, just staring at the floor—or maybe he couldn’t see at all. Anne wasn’t sure where the Necrosis began and ended on him.

“Hey, Thomas,” Joan said, causing him to look up. “You remember Anne, don’t you?”

Thomas held up one hand, had it hover in the air tentatively for a moment, then gave them a thumbs up. Edward bounds over eagerly and latches onto Joan’s arm. He scrambled up the side of her body until he could sit on her shoulder.

“I taught him that,” He said proudly. He gave Thomas two thumbs up with his human child hands (which still made Anne uneasy). “Good job! Now you’re getting the hang of it!”

Thomas made a blissful moaning noise, reminiscent of a happy whale.

“What happened to them?” Anne asked. “Why do they...?”

“Look like that?” Joan finished for her. “I messed up. More than I did with the others. I added too many base materials and not enough DNA, so, even though they were pulled out of the Abyss, they couldn’t create a proper body at all. Nor can they take a false form like the Incomplete Cadavers. So they look like this.”

Mary peered at them from where she’s lying down, made a sigh-like noise, and crawled out. She makes sure she “accidentally” flicks Anne with her tail as she’s walking to Joan’s side.

“Wow,” Edward commented. “She does not like you.”

“Yeah...” Anne said. “We didn’t have the best relationship growing up.”

Mary growled and then began making a variety of noises, and Anne realized she was doing her version of talking. If she listened hard enough, Anne thought she could almost hear the pronunciation of certain syllables and the slur of words that have th.

“I think I’m being yelled at.” Anne laughed, then yelped loudly when her foot was stamped on by a miasmic human hand. She leapt backwards, but George caught her before she could completely topple over like the buffoon Mary was trying to make her into.

“Mary!” Joan scolded. “Don’t do that! You could burn her!”

Two of the arms on Mary’s back made an innocent shrugging motion.

“Burn me?” Anne asked as she’s rubbing her foot. “She didn’t...feel hot?”

“Not burn like that, silly,” Joan said. “Blight Burn, Miasmic Burn—it’s what I call when someone is injured by Necrosis. It could lead to that whole body deterioration issue I was telling you about earlier.”

“How do you know?”

Joan smiled wryly.

“Brace yourself.”

She tugged down her shirt slightly to reveal three long, thin scratch marks just below her left shoulder. The interiors were completely black, showing no evidence of regular skin inside. Several other black patches and splotches and claw mark-like formations stretch up to her shoulder, a few speckle her breast, and one even wrapped across the nape of her neck. Most of them were connected by webbing and tendrils of an inky substance that was permanently stained in her flesh. There were also the red dots in each of them— the eyes. When a few of them blinked, Anne nearly threw up right then and there.

“Oh my god!!” Anne shrieked with a gag.

“I know!” Joan cried back. “I can’t change in front of anyone, now. And if I ever want to get laid, I may have to do that with my shirt on. Oh, and swimming is now a no go without a shirt on. This shit doesn’t go away.”

“Does it...does it hurt?” Anne asked. She couldn’t help but reach out in morbid curiosity. “Can I...touch it?”

“Yeah,” Joan said. “Just be careful. And gentle, please. It’s still sensitive.”

Anne gently touched one of the weavings of burns along Joan’s shoulder. It was warm to the touch and strangely bumpy, like the texture of inflamed acne on someone’s face in a weird sort of way.

Beneath her fingertips, Anne felt the sensation one would feel when they touched their eyelid and tried to blink at the same time, and she realized something was blinking. The eyes were. And the miasma around the was writhing in Joan’s flesh, and that’s what finally got Anne to vomit on the floor.

“Eww!” Edward cried, crawling onto the top of Joan’s head like he thought some of Anne’s lunch would somehow get on him. He was nowhere near as close as George and Mary were, who both leapt away in an instant. George, however, quickly snapped out of his panic and went back to Anne’s side to rub her back with his clawed hands while making gentle beast noises.

“Forgot to warn you about that part.” Joan said mildly. “It does that. Are you okay?”

“Are YOU okay?” Anne reprimanded after she finished spilling her guts on the floor. “That— oh my god! That’s disgusting!”

“Says the one who just threw up in a dingy basement.” Edward commented helpfully.

“Does it hurt?” Anne asked worriedly.

Joan shrugged. “Not anymore. Usually. It’s just itchy sometimes.”

“What does it feel like?” Anne prodded further.

“Umm...” Joan went to run a hand through her hand, only to touch Edward, instead, so she just rubbed the back of her neck instead. “Do you remember what it felt like when you were pregnant? Like, the feeling of something moving under your skin?”

Anne nodded with a grimace.

“Kinda like that. But obviously not in the stomach.”

“What happened?”

“Like every other time, I messed up.” Joan answered.

“No offense, but how is it possible for you to fuck up so often?”

“No clue. And none taken.” Joan started to walk back to the Gene Pool and her desk. Mary tags along with her, and the slap of her human hands against the floor makes Anne’s stomach churn all over again. “I was trying to bring back someone related to Cathy, but the Necrosis lashed out when I was trying to get it out. I was lucky to have gotten hit in the shoulder and not the throat because a vital area like that would have gotten devoured instantly. But anyway, it hurt at the time. Like, ‘I want to die so I don’t have to feel this pain anymore’ level of hurt. It was bad. But, luckily, I was able to get to the salt water in time and doused the infection. So now I’m safe, but scarred permanently.”

“Wow,” Anne muttered under her breath. “That sounds...”

“Horrible?” Joan smiled slightly. “I know. It really is. Dangerous, too.”

Anne glanced wryly at the tank behind Joan and her mind flashed back to the Necrosis that had been pulled out.

“Nothing can, like, crawl out on its own, right?” She asked uneasily. The thought of demonic goop dropping on her head and eating her alive during a performance sparks anxiety in her mind.

“Not that I’ve seen,” Joan said. “The Necrosis is relatively tame without any reactors.” She pats the tank, and that makes Anne even more nervous. “And I’m always monitoring it when it is spawning things.”

Anne nodded slowly. She glanced at all the Cadavers and then momentarily stared down at her own hands, wondering for just a moment if she had that stuff churning beneath her flesh and she just didn’t know it yet.

“So this all just...stays down here?” She asked.

“Yup,” Joan nodded. “I mean, sometimes I’ll let them out and wander around the theater at night, but they mainly stay down here.” She frowned slightly. “They have to. I can’t let them face other people. Not yet.” She tentatively took Anne’s hands. “So I can trust you to keep this a secret, right? You won’t tell anyone?”

Anne swallowed thickly. She looked at all the creatures again- Juana and Isabel dozing against the wall, John snoozing on an overhead pipe like a sleepy hairless monkey, Thomas in the back corner, Edward on Joan’s head, George at her side and Mary glaring at Joan’s, and even Joan herself, who didn’t seem as human as she used to be.

Then, she nodded in agreement.

#six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six fanfiction #six fanfic #six fic #anne boleyn #nana boleyn #joan on the keys #george boleyn #mary boleyn #boleyn siblings #edward vi of england #juana of castile #john astley #isabel leigh #thomas wyatt #gene pool #tw: vomiting #tw: vomit #tw: body horror #chromosomal rearrangement

[temilyrights]

the case of us (chapter four)

Jack Sloane x Reader

Word Count: 3244

A/N: A fluff filled chapter, who’d of thought it was possible? It's canon that Jack likes reality TV but the only thing I watch is Queer Eye, hence the reference! Anyway hope you enjoy, and as always, feedback is always welcome :)

Read On AO3

Chapter Three  Chapter Five

It’s been just over 2 months now since Sam was killed. You haven’t spoken to Felicity since that day you went to visit her but you still speak to Robert. You try to meet up with him every couple of weeks for lunch and you’ve been slowly rebuilding the relationship you once had.

Work has been surprisingly quiet for the whole week, and everyone is taking full advantage of it. You’ve been out of the office by 7 pm every day and spirits were definitely high.

It was nearing 6 pm now, and you were just finishing up your final report of the day. “We should go for drinks!” Torres announces. Bishop quickly agrees but you hesitate, the idea of getting into bed and eating junk food sounding very appealing. “Come on Y/N! It’s Friday!” 

At your unconvinced look, Torres adds “What about if I buy you your first drink?” 

Your face spreads into a wide smirk. “Deal.” 

—

An hour later the whole team is sitting in the fancy new bar Torres had been raving about for the last couple of weeks. The drinks were overpriced, even for DC, and you’re grateful Torres is buying your first one. 

You’re sitting in between Kasie and Ellie. With Jack opposite you and Gibbs to her left. Torres ends up buying the whole team a round, and you wince in sympathy for his bank account. 

“Thank you” You grin, taking a sip of your drink as Torres takes his seat next to McGee. 

Everyone falls into easy conversation, laughing and joking. You chat with Kasie for a bit about the forensics convention she’d been to the previous week. Her eyes light up with enthusiasm as she tells you about the new technology that’d she’d been able to trail and how she was going to ask Vance to update the lab. 

“Yeah, good luck with that,” McGee quips, overhearing your conversation. “I’ve been trying to get the computers and wifi updated for a good year with no success.” Kasie’s smile dims slightly and McGee notices so he quickly back peddles. “But hey, maybe you’ll have more luck!” He goes on to ask about some technology he’d heard was being announced and Kasie barely can stay still in her seat as her excitement takes over.

You use the dull in conversation as an excuse to go get another drink and despite it being a Friday evening it doesn’t take long for you to be served. When you get back to the table, McGee has moved to your spot, still talking to Kasie,  you roll your eyes at him playfully and look for an empty space. The seat next to Torres is free but he’s chatting to Gibbs about something sport-related and you’d rather throw your head into a wall than listen to that conversation. Your eyes then find the free seat next to Jack and your face brightens. She’s currently talking to Ellie. Both blondes flash you a smile as you slip into the seat. 

“I was just telling Jack about that terrible date I went on last week.” Your face fills with sympathy, remembering the story. “How about you Jack, any dates recently?” Her voice lowers to a whisper as a smirk pulls at her lips. “Maybe with a certain grey-haired agent…” Her head signals to Gibbs, who’s thankfully still talking to Torres and is none the wiser of the conversation. 

Jack’s cheeks tinged pink and both you and Ellie start laughing. “Seriously guys there isn’t a ‘thing’.” Ellie just rolls her eyes but Jack’s face turns serious. “We’re just friends!” It comes out a lot louder than expected and the rest of the table turns to face them as Jack’s face flashes bright red. 

“Okay. Okay…” Ellie holds her hands up in mock surrender but you can tell she doesn’t believe Jack. Jack notices too as she just rolls her eyes, leaning back in her chair and huffing before finishing off the rest of her drink in one large swig. She looks serious, so you flash her a sympathetic smile, squeezing her hand slightly. Her lips tip up into a smile but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

A drink and a half later, and Torres is trying to convince everyone to get on the dance floor with him. Ellie and Kasie quickly jump up to join, dragging Jimmy along as well despite his protests. McGee ducked out a little under half an hour ago claiming tiredness. Gibbs mutters something about getting drinks and leaves the table, leaving just you and Jack. 

Jack subtly tries to hide a yawn, turning her head away from you and covering her mouth with her hand. You start laughing and the blonde turns back to you, rolling her eyes playfully. “Tired?” 

Jack sighs, slumping back into her chair. “I’m just thinking about how I could be at home, in my pyjamas, catching up on Queer Eye and not in a loud crowded bar.”

“No way!” You grin brightly, sitting up excitedly in your chair. “You watch Queer Eye?” 

A look of disbelief crosses Jack’s face as her own smile spreads across her lips. “Are you telling me I’ve worked with someone for the last year and didn’t know she watched one of my favourite shows!” 

“I can’t believe it!” You’re grinning. “Are you free this weekend?” 

Jack’s eyes light up as she realises where you’re going with this, she hadn’t had someone to chat with about reality tv since, well, Jessica. “Tomorrow evening?” 

“I’ll bring the take-out” You grin, nodding your head excitedly in agreement. Gibbs comes back to the table then, placing a drink each in front of you and Jack. You both nod your thanks, you were starting to feel the buzz. 

Ellie comes back to the table not long later, sweaty from dancing and starts gulping down her drink. Your eyes widen in shock, knowing she was very much going to regret that in the morning. She drops her now empty glass on the table before aiming a sly smirk at you. You shuffle in your chair, dread filling your stomach. 

“No! No!” You exclaim, as Ellie slowly moves around the table. You try to move further away and end with your back pushed against Jack's side as you squirm in your chair. Jack’s laughing lightly and you can feel the chuckle as it vibrates through your body. Ellie quickly grabs your hand pulling you from your chair and you’re surprised by her strength, your expression must reflect as much as now Jack’s laughing harder and even Gibbs chuckles from next to her. 

You keep shooting looks back at them mouthing ‘help’ as Ellie drags you to the dance floor. They just continue to laugh, Jack waves, smirking brightly and you roll your eyes Traitors. 

Once you’re on the dance floor you don’t fight it anymore. You dance, enjoying the freeing feeling as you bounce around the space. You freeze when you notice Jimmy’s comically bad ‘dad dancing’ and try to hide your laughter behind your hands. Jimmy notices, face brightening, he moves over to you and exaggerates his already embarrassing dancing. You break into laughter, joining in with Jimmy as he does the robot. 

--

When you wake up the next morning you feel surprisingly good. Only a dull headache which can easily be fixed with some paracetamol and food. You quickly shower, changing into black leggings and an oversized jumper before heading to the kitchen in search of food. 

You’re just sitting down to eat when your phone buzzes with a text from Jack. 

Hope you’re feeling alright this morning. We still on for tonight?

A wide smile spreads across your face as you read the text and you quickly type a response one-handed as you continue to eat with the other. 

Surprisingly good, thanks! Yes, if you’re still game. Pizza or Chinese?

You know both Ellie and Nick are going to be regretting their actions this morning and make a mental reminder to contact them later to see if they’re still alive. Your phone buzzes again, and you’re drawn from your thoughts. 

Awesome, 1700 at mine? And surprise me, I’m good with whatever!

You shoot back a quick text agreeing to the plans. Leaving your phone on the counter, you clean up your mess from breakfast and continue with your day. 

It’s early afternoon when you finally call Ellie. She answers the phone after only a couple of rings and proceeds to release a long whine. You start laughing, imagining her still in bed, hiding under the covers to protect herself from the harsh light of day. 

“So, you are feeling about as good as I expected then?” You tease. 

“What do you want?” Ellie grumbles, causing you to laugh again. 

“Oh, was just calling to see how you’re doing. I’m going to check in on Nick next.” 

“I’ll save you a phone call then,” Ellie shouts out Nick’s name and then proceeds to groan at the loud noise. You can distantly hear someone stumbling around, a loud crash followed by ‘fuck!’ and then a door opening. 

“What?” Nick groans, and you can hear the bed creak as he throws himself onto it. 

“Y/N called to bask in our pain.” 

“Bitch” Nick mutters. You just laugh again. 

Ellie brightens up when she gets to explain the story of how Nick had nearly thrown up in the taxi and the taxi driver had refused to continue driving them so he’d ended up crashing on Ellie’s couch (and also bathroom floor as he spent a lot of his time with his head down the toilet). Nick spent the whole time muttering under his breath and you laugh at them both. You finally finish the call an hour later with a final comment about drinking responsibly. Nick groans while Ellie just blows a raspberry at the phone and hangs up. You sit on your couch laughing for the next couple of minutes, wiping tears from your eyes, excited at the prospect of teasing them all come Monday morning. 

You decide on Chinese for dinner. You place an order, selecting your usual and as you aren’t aware of Jack’s regular order, choose a few extra dishes that you feel she might like. You don’t bother changing from your comfy clothes, just slipping on a pair of trainers and tying your hair out of your face. Before grabbing your keys and bag and heading to your car. You pick up the food on the way and pull up to Jack’s house at 5 pm on the dot. 

“Always on time,” Jack smirks when she opens the door to you, her face brightens even more when she notices the bag of Chinese food and you’re happy you made the right choice. Jack welcomes you into her house, taking the bag of food from you as you kick off your shoes and place your bag down. You look round the room, taking in the space, this was the first time you’d been to Jack’s home. 

“Wow, you have a beautiful home.” Jack’s lips tug into a proud smile as she enters the room again, now with plates. 

“Thanks.” She leads you to her living room and places the food and plates on her coffee table as you’d done a couple of months prior. She sits down on the couch, legs crossed. She’s dressed in yoga pants and an old t-shirt, her hair tied up in a ponytail and feet bare from any shoes. You grin, taking your own seat next to her and begin to unpack the food.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked so I went with a variety.” Jack’s face lights up when she sees the amount of food you’d ended up getting and you bite your lip self consciously. “If you don’t like any of it-” 

“You got a couple of my go-to dishes so we’re good.” Jack laughs and begins to fill her plate with food. You breathe a sigh of relief before doing the same. The TV is all set up, Queer Eye just waiting to be played, and once you’ve both filled your plates and are sitting comfortably she clicks start. 

You fall into an easy silence as you watch the show, only occasionally breaking it to make comments and laugh. However, you’d forgotten how emotional this particular episode was and feel your eyes begin to well up, you try to blink away the tears sighing at yourself. Jack notices and reaches her hand out to place on your own. You turn to look at her surprised to see watery eyes reflected back at you. You both release sad chuckles and you stop trying to hide your emotions, allowing the tears to fall down your face as you go back to watching the show. 

“Wow…” you chuckle, wiping the tears from your face as the episode ends. “I forgot how emotional this show is.” 

“Tell me about it.” Jack comments, huffing and rubbing the tears from her own face. “I’m going to make some tea, want some?” Jacks asks, standing from the couch. You nod, thanking her and she disappears to the kitchen. You pack up the food, there’s still a decent amount left. You separate the boxes into two piles, giving Jack all the food you’d noticed she’d enjoyed the most. 

She comes back a few minutes later, two mugs in hand. She passes one to you, which you accept with a smile, before sitting down closer to you than before. “I never asked how your day was.” You take a sip from your drink, revelling in the warm feeling that spreads through your body. 

“I had lunch with Izzy”

“Oh?” You have to bite your lip to stop from laughing, having heard stories of Izzy and Jack’s relationship. “How was that?” 

Jack sighs, rolling her eyes but a small smile pulls at her lips anyway. “Eventful.” She tilts her head in consideration. “Although, It is nice to have someone I knew from San Diego around.” Jack shakes her head as if to dispel memories. Her smile widening “How was your day?” 

“Uneventful.” You shrug. “Spent most of it doing chores I’ve neglected over the last couple of weeks…” You smirk, thinking back to your phone call with a certain duo. “Although, I did have a lovely conversation with our dear Ellie and Nick.” 

Jack laughs, moving slightly so she was sitting facing you, her legs crossed under her. “How hungover were they?” You explain the story, about Nick nearly throwing up in the taxi, their obvious pain and whining and how you didn’t even feel slightly bad for them. Jack offers sympathetic laughs. 

“Don’t feel sorry for them! I thought you’d enjoy their misery too, well Ellie’s at least after bringing up the whole Gibbs ‘thing’!” You laugh, not noticing how Jack’s own laughter has cut out and she’s no longer looking at you. Your smile falters when you finally notice. “Sorry I didn’t mean-”

Jack sighs, cutting you off. “No, it’s fine. I just-...There really isn’t a ‘thing’. We’re good friends but there’s nothing romantic there. We’ve both been through a lot and told each other some serious stuff...” Jack trails off. She hasn’t looked at you since she started talking so you reach out your hand placing it on her own. She finally meets your eyes. 

“I’ll get the others to lay off. And I’m sorry for teasing. You shouldn’t have to defend your friendship. It’s nice you have each other.” You squeeze her hand once more before letting go, the tension in the room dissolving.

Jack offers a smile. “Now, how about another episode?” You laugh, settling back into the sofa as Jack presses play. 

--

“Knock, Knock.” You speak, as you hold two fresh cups of coffee in your hand. Jack’s currently sitting at her desk looking at something on her computer, she’s chewing her lip and absentmindedly twirling the pen in her hand. The second she hears your voice, she places the pen down and turns to you with a large smile. 

“My lifesaver” Jack breathes, readily accepting the coffee cup. You laugh lightly, taking the seat in front of her desk and taking a sip from your own drink. 

“How are the profiles going? I heard Warrick’s team have a hard case this week.”

Jack sighs, head dropping into her hands.  “Yeah, a Navy officer and his 10-year-old daughter were found shot in their home.” 

“Oh god, that’s horrible. Suspects?” 

“There’s a couple.” She signals to the case files, taking a sip of her coffee. “I’m just narrowing down which one, if any, I think could’ve done it.” She looks at the clock noticing it’s already 7 pm and sighs. “It’s going to be a long night.” 

You offer a sympathetic smile. “Rain check on dinner tonight then?” 

“Oh! I completely forgot! I’m so sorry-” Jack sits up in her chair, as she rushes to apologise.

“Hey,” You cut her off, trying to calm her down. “It’s fine really, that’s the job.” You shrug and you see Jack begin to relax again.

“I’m still really sorry, I’ve been looking forward to finally tasting your cooking all week.” Jack’s shoulders slump and she smiles sadly. 

“Well then it’s probably good we have to rearrange, postpone the inevitability of me giving you food poisoning.” You quip and Jack laughs, rolling her eyes at you playfully, a warmth spreads across your chest and a small smile pulls at your lips. You say goodbye after that, leaving her to finish the profiles so she’ll hopefully be able to leave at a somewhat reasonable time tonight. 

McGee, Torres and Bishop had long since gone home, but Gibbs is sitting in the darkened bullpen typing away at his computer. You make your way to your desk, grabbing your bag. Gibbs shoots you a curious look. “Everyone else went home over an hour ago.” 

“I know.” You shrug. “I was meant to be having dinner with Jack and was waiting for her to finish. She’s still helping on Warrick’s case though so we’re rescheduling.” 

Gibbs is looking at you slightly weirdly now and you don’t really understand what’s happening. Was he smirking? “Right well...Night Gibbs.” You wave goodbye, sparing Gibbs one last look as he grumbles something along the lines of ‘have a good night’ and you head off to the elevator. 

The doors are just closing when your phone pings with a text notification. 

Now I can’t stop thinking about food.

You laugh, biting your lip lightly as you respond. 

I could get you something from that pizza shop around the corner?

Would you?

And then…

Get something for yourself too! We can eat and work.

The only paperwork you had to do you’d planned on doing tomorrow morning, so really you had no reason to stay and work. However, the idea of spending the evening eating pizza with Jack was appealing and to be honest you were slightly disappointed that you’d had to reschedule dinner.

When you reappear in the office 20 minutes later, Gibbs is still sitting at his desk. You pass him a pizza box before going to your desk and collecting the paperwork you needed. Gibbs’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He thanks you for the pizza, watching you walk upstairs and isn’t surprised when he sees you heading in the direction of Jack’s office. He smirks, shaking his head. 

You never did care much for his rules. 

#jack sloane #jacqueline sloane #jack sloane x reader #reader insert #ncis #the case of us #chapter four #multi chap #slow burn #maria bello #fem!reader

[imagitory]

The Cast of Yu-Gi-Oh...Sorted!

Hey guys! I’ve done several other posts like this for other fandoms and I’ve even Sorted some of these characters in other Sorting Hat asks in the past, but...well, I just decided, why not compile all of those thoughts in one big post to answer the question: where would the main cast of characters from Yu-Gi-Oh: Duel Monsters be Sorted, if they attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?

Yugi Mutou ~ Hufflepuff!

I’ve seen a lot of fictional Sortings favor putting “the hero” in Gryffindor with his “best friend” types all being in Hufflepuff, but Yugi, in my opinion, is a perfect example of how heroic Hufflepuff values can be. Whereas Atem uses clever strategies to outwit his opponents and save the day, Yugi’s greatest strength and magic is his compassion. It’s what transformed a bully like Jounouchi into a loyal comrade, what opened up fiery, distrustful Rebecca to friendship, what strengthened the bonds between the many different friends he’s made, and what moved the ruthless spirit of darkness inhabiting his body so much that that spirit saw him as his partner and equal. Like many Hufflepuffs I know, Yugi always puts his friends first, putting their safety and well-being over his own every time -- self-sacrifice is a tenant of Hufflepuff house, and Yugi has that in spades. Still, Yugi is just and noble enough to also protect those who might not necessarily “deserve” his help: he values all life, regardless of whose it is or how terrible that person has been to him. Yugi is warm, dedicated, loyal, and modest, and being a connoisseur of games, he also esteems fair play, hence why he reacts so bitterly to Insector Haga throwing his grandfather’s Exodia cards off the boat in an underhanded way to keep Yugi from using them to win any more duels.

Yami Yugi / Pharaoh Atem ~ Slytherin!

Atem is the yin to Yugi’s yang, the darkness to his light, and therefore the Slytherin to his Hufflepuff. Whereas Yugi’s soul room is light, airy, and open, Atem’s is a dark labyrinth of endless tunnels and traps -- and yeah, Hufflepuff’s and Slytherin’s commonrooms, despite both being underground, have that same dichotomy, with Hufflepuff’s being sunny and cheerful with a location next to the kitchens and Slytherin’s being dark and dungeon-like by the underground lake. Atem’s eternal goal is to win every game he plays, regardless of whether or not he initiates the game or not, and he will do anything to win, even if it ends up compromising his morals. (See his duel with Kaiba during Duelist Kingdom or the Orikalkos duel with Raphael for evidence of this.) When he or his friends are threatened, Atem also retaliates ruthlessly and mercilously, as Insector Haga or any of his Shadow Game victims from the early manga or season 0 can tell you. Fortunately, despite his intense drive to win at all costs, Atem does always follow the rules of whatever game he’s in and he almost always wins because he’s both clever and resourceful enough to outwit his opponents. Appropriate to Slytherins as well, he has a great desire and focus on his past, wanting to learn more about it so as to better understand who he is, what he’s supposed to do, and how he can approach the future. If Yugi showcases Hufflepuff heroism with mercy and kindness, then Atem showcases Slytherin heroism with brilliance and passion.

Katsuya Jounouchi ~ Gryffindor!

Admittedly Jounouchi does fit the hot-tempered, aggressive, yet noble stereotype of Gryffindor pretty well off-the-bat, but there’s more to it than that for me. Jounouchi is a very active person, ready to jump in to protect his friends from whatever slight is thrown their way -- all of the Gryffindors I know have a very “knight”-like affect to them where they just can’t sit back and do nothing when people are being mistreated. I would also argue that in the series, Jounouchi is motivated to become a stronger duelist not just because of him wanting to help his sister (which is why he entered Duelist Kingdom), but because he wants to improve himself. As he tells Kaiba at one point at the end of Battle City, even after he lost to Marik on a technicality (JOUNOUCHI SHOULD’VE WON THAT DUEL AND BECOME THE OWNER OF THE WINGED DRAGON OF RA AND I WILL SCREAM THAT ‘TIL THE DAY I DIE), “his Battle City isn’t over,” because he hasn’t yet earned his Red Eyes back from Yugi in the duel they promised to have after the tournament was over. And honestly, I’d say Jounouchi’s “Battle City” will probably never be over for him, because every duel he fights only makes him love the game more and makes him push himself to become even better. Jounouchi’s nobility also shines through multiple times in the show, whether it’s promising to save Ryuzaki’s soul from Dartz after he defeats him in their duel, ordering his Red Eyes Black Dragon to protect Mokuba from a blast from the Five-Headed Dragon even if it meant dooming himself, or getting Yugi the last piece of the Millennium Puzzle back after he threw it into a pond. 

Hiroto Honda ~ Hufflepuff!

Honestly, thanks to his lack of character development in the Duel Monsters anime and the shifts in his limited characterization between his manga, season 0, and anime selves, this Sorting is really tricky. In season 0 exclusively, Honda is portrayed as more of a rule-keeper and is the head of the “beautification department” (which I guess is sort of like a janitorial thing, but for students?). It hints to a love of order that seems very Ravenclaw-esque and could’ve been an interesting twist to set him apart from Jounouchi and the others, but alas, it’s something that really isn’t reflected that much in either manga!Honda or DM!Honda’s characterization. In all three mediums, though, even though he’s depicted as having been Jounouchi’s friend long before he met Yugi and Anzu, Honda still comes off as more level-headed and cautious than Jounouchi. If Jounouchi is a raging hothead, Honda is the down-to-earth voice of reason. We also see in all three mediums that Honda has a romantic side, whether it’s with classmate Miho Nosaka or Jounouchi’s little sister Shizuka, and really, it’s in that capacity that we see that Honda can be pretty darn stupid too. (Not trying to bash Honda, truly, but this guy does not know how to play the game of love at all.) In the end, no matter which series we see him in, Honda’s main motivation is sticking by his buddies. He’s no duelist and he has little interest in being so, but he deeply cares about his friends’ safety and will always be right there to protect them and cheer them on however he can. So as much as I lament that I don’t have more to work with when it comes to Honda, his loyalty and down-to-earth demeanor do seem very consistent with Hufflepuff. 

Anzu Mazaki ~ Gryffindor!

Anzu is another character whose characterization fluctuates between the manga and the two anime series. In all three mediums, she’s a dedicated, romantic person who although not being talented in Duel Monsters herself is always there to cheer her friends on in their struggles. In the manga, she’s depicted as a little more flighty and girly, using love charms and getting her romantic fortune told, and at one point even recklessly putting herself in danger in the hopes that “the other Yugi” will appear and rescue her. In season 0, we see her being braver and more vocal in standing up to people -- she tries to protect a girl from punishment after she gets caught trying to confess her feelings to Jounouchi in a love letter; she helps catch a criminal hiding out in the fast food restaurant she works in by lying about what ingredients are used in their burgers; and she resolutely decides to have her soul transferred into a doll alongside Yugi and her friends when Yami Bakura challenges them to a Monster World Shadow Game. In the Duel Monsters anime, some of that courage is shaved off of Anzu and she’s depicted as less reckless and more grounded, but there are still points where her nobility can shine through, like when she decides to fight in Yugi’s place to win Mai’s star chips or she stops Atem from attacking Insector Haga over and over again after he’s already won. Although I could very easily see Anzu fitting into Hufflepuff as well (especially in the Duel Monsters anime), upon a lot of reflection, I think that, since I would put two out of the three versions of her in this house and even the third version could still work there, Gryffindor is her ultimate best place. 

Seto Kaiba ~ Slytherin!

I’m sure a lot of you were expecting Ravenclaw, and yes, I do think Kaiba is on the cusp between Ravenclaw and Slytherin, but let me explain why Kaiba is a Snake in my mind and not an Eagle. Kaiba is a very intelligent person with a great love of achievement, yes, but his sole focus is always on getting what he wants, whether it’s defeating Yugi, winning all three Egyptian God cards and then defeating Yugi, opening up his own theme park where he can defeat Yugi -- LOL, okay, I’m partially kidding, but...yeah, Kaiba’s focus is solely on what he wants, even if it is to win at something. Ravenclaws tend to have a very “worldly” view of the world and try to find their own distinct place in it, whereas Slytherins don’t give a damn about the rest of the world as long as their inner circle is safe. Throughout the series, Kaiba consistently chooses his little brother and the well-being of his company over everything else. In fact, in the Japanese dub of the Duel Monsters anime, the reason Kaiba barely reacts to all the crazy magic stuff going on around him isn’t because he doesn’t believe it’s happening like English!Kaiba, but because he simply doesn’t care. All he cares about is beating Yugi and looking after his company and brother. Everything else going on in the background, even if it does involve unknown magics that could shake someone’s entire world view and their place in it, just isn’t that important to him. Plus Ravenclaws aren’t just known for their intelligence and love of achievement -- they’re also known for wisdom and open-mindedness, both of which are very unKaiba. Kaiba is incredibly judgmental of everyone he meets, only deigning to show respect to those very few people he deems as being on his level, and although in the Japanese dub of the Duel Monsters anime, Kaiba showed moments of deeper thought and good judgement, the only wisdom English!Kaiba showcases on a regular basis is his assortment of snarky wisecracks. But if we look at Slytherin’s values, I think they line up with Kaiba and his characterization a bit better. Ambition -- well, considering that he challenged a CEO to a game of chess just to get him and his brother adopted, forcefully took over that same CEO’s arms and weapons business, and turned the whole thing into a gaming company complete with its own gaming products, Duel Monsters tournaments, and friggin’ THEME PARK, all before he even became a legal adult, I’d say that fits. Resourcefulness -- as Kaiba brings up to both Amelda and Ziegfried, he started off with nothing and could only use his talents and smarts to outwit his stepfather, take over KaibaCorp, and make it successful. Cleverness -- Kaiba may not be the King of Games, but he’s probably the only duelist who truly stands toe-to-toe with Atem in the dueling arena without cheating. Even Bakura, another one of Atem’s most prominent rivals, has to cheat in both the manga and the anime series to try to stay ahead of him. A certain disregard for the rules -- honestly, Kaiba tends to follow the rules of whatever game he’s playing, BUUUUT he does still seem to find joy in bucking other people’s expectations and doing whatever the hell he wants because he can. I mean, this is the guy who bought an entire city to host a gaming tournament, quickly wrote a ridiculously high check to a car salesman before driving off in one of his cars without another word (does he even HAVE a driver’s license??), and who blew up his own Duel Tower on KaibaCorp island just so he and Mokuba could fly away on their Blue Eyes White Dragon jet out of the rubble. (There is a reason why in Yu-Gi-Oh Abridged, his catchphrase is “screw the rules, I’ve got money” -- just sayin’.) And honestly, as much as Kaiba claims he doesn’t look back at the past, he is still clearly haunted and defined by it. The wounds of Gozaburo’s mistreatment were so deep that Kaiba felt like he had to blow up the ruined remnants of his old headquarters just to try to move on with his life. Atem defeating him affected him so much that he spent five whole seasons and an entire movie obsessing over their rivalry and how he would eventually defeat him. Hell, in DSOD, he even tried to put the Millennium Puzzle back together in a vain attempt to get Atem to come back and duel him again, and when he failed in that, he actually made a device so he could crash Atem’s friggin’ AFTER-LIFE just to try to duel him! “Bury the past,” my ass! As much as I could see Kaiba fitting pretty well in Ravenclaw too, I think part of the reason he and Atem are so at each other’s throats all the time is because of their two massive Slytherin egos constantly trying to one-up each other.

#sorting hat ask #yu-gi-oh! #yu-gi-oh #yugioh #harry potter #hogwarts #gryffindor #gryffindor pride #slytherin pride #hufflepuff pride #hufflepuff #slytherin #opinion #analysis #oh boy here i go #yugi mutou #yami yugi #atem #seto kaiba #katsuya jounouchi #hiroto honda #anzu mazaki #joey wheeler #tristan taylor #tea gardner

[real-fakedoors]

You must have gotten this question a lot but... how did you get the idea for star-crossed? And how’d you develop the world? I was really inspired by how you detailed your story to create such an amazing image for us readers of the world; especially when it got down to politics, the watches, characterizations and the planets-turned-countries. I’m currently writing (or trying to write) a book of my own, and I’ve been struggling with how to incorporate those kind of details. Do you have any advice?

hello & thank you for the ask! what a wonderful question, and an even more glowing compliment!! my heart is so full :,)

it’s a mixture of a few things, and I’m happy to break it down further if you’d like, but allow me to lay out my basic approach to writing in general & this fic specifically. I’ll try to address each question the best I can!

1. Ideas born from ideas

Music - I’m one of those people who draw on other sources of inspiration – especially music. All three of my most popular stories were at least first thought of by songs. (star-crossed was inspired by Constellations by The Oh Hellos).

Reference material/research - I’ve tried to be as explicit as possible in star-crossed when I describe/utilize the design of another creator for the basis of my work (like all of Lance’s pretty outfits), but in general, having reference material is the MOST IMPORTANT thing. I’ve done a ton of research on medieval culture, cuisine, buildings, and courts. A good example of this is from Chapter 16: The Prisoner’s Dilemma, I had no freakin’ idea how to describe a battlement, or what that even was – hence me googling “what is the top of a castle wall called” > they’re called battlements, got it! > google image, battelments 

There, I found this:

and from that, I wrote this:

Quietly, they climbed until the highest reaches opened around them, a large plane of dark stone, stained by ombre rust to near-black on opposing ends of the terrace. A very small amount of snow had gathered, but most of it had blown away in the wind –  some small catches had gathered in pockets of shade, where the perimeter wall was buttressed by columns of scaffolding that each came to a point. They were massive structures, like stone arrows pointing towards the heavens; vaguely, Lance remembered one of his mother’s stories about a fletcher’s workshop for the gods; the sweep magnificence of the architecture, certainly lent itself to a sense of the divine and otherworldly greatness.

Linear plot - In terms of figuring out what I want to accomplish in the story, and in the chapters, I quite literally depend on my notes. I tend to get over-eager and want to do a lot in one chapter, so I force myself to map things out in accordance to time rather than events, and that helps me maintain something of a regular pace.

There are a few things I knew I had to have happen in the story, and some of it filled in naturally as I began writing. Here’s a picture of my office from the week I began writing star-crossed.

(the text on the sticky notes doesn’t really matter; but pink are plot points and yellow are narrative themes)

If you squint – an example – Tuesday was supposed to be the day of the bombing, originally. All of the tension and build up and worries about the murder plot were never actually going to happen, as it was going to be wrong-place/wrong-time as a bomb went off in the city. Lance was always intended to get caught up in it instead of Keith as the target, but that obviously didn’t end up happening.

Why? As I wrote the beginning chapters, I had to remind myself that Keith is the Prince of Marmora, of which their expertise is spy networks and information. It didn’t seem feasible to me that such a large scale attack could occur in Marmora without the Blade knowing about it, which is why the attention ended up shifting towards the ball specifically.

Prompts - I am also of the belief that there is no reason to reinvent the wheel. There are wonderful, wonderful authors and writers out there who generate material specifically designed to help writers kickstart ideas; I collected a huge Google Doc of these when I first started star-crossed just to keep my head in accordance with the right themes. Rarely do I use a prompt word-for-word because they never really fit exactly what I’m writing, but the tone of the language often helps me in moments when I’m stuck. Here’s a sampling (and I am sorry, I didn’t think to mark the original blogs I took these from:

“The world was in flames. People were in need of laughter.”

“The world was in flames” helped me to derive some of the terrible disaster that came on the third night of the ball. I just really like that visual, so much orange and red light, and the unbearable heat.

“You can feel the world blooming and withering around you while you’re in prison.”

This sort of… live-and-die, questioning mortality thing, while in “prison” helped me to build Lance’s internal monologue while he was in the cellar.

“If I ignored destiny, so can you.”

Because Klance.

“I was waiting for a chance to ask you to dance with me, but you were gone.”

A knife-twist of how, though this was loosely inspired by the premise of Cinderella, Keith only got to ask Lance to dance twice over the course of three days – in part because Lance was always gone or with someone else, but also because Keith was equally tied up in the expectation that he was to dance with anyone who asked him.

The watches - That was my hope of tying in the paladin’s bayard. It was theoretically impossible to have a magical weapon appear in the hands of four teenagers and an adult without it raising many conspicuous questions, so I needed something a little more subtle. There’s still some… [redacted] about time that has to [redacted] before [redacted] can [redacted], so I can’t say much more than that. :,)

Pomp, Circumstance & Politics (oh my!) - okay, sorry, I couldn’t resist. heh. but, yeah, I don’t know if I can point to one specific thing in particular that gave rise to the political quagmire of this story. It’s definitely been inspired by an array of existing media – Downton Abbey certainly helped shape the “upper class” vs. “lower class” treatment. I also really enjoy historical readings. fiction or nonfiction, pertaining to wars: Ken Burn’s Vietnam War, for instance, helped remind me of the massive impact the decisions of few can have on the many. Whether or not you support a war, or a policy in Marmora’s case, can have devastating after-effects for the people beneath you. Keith and Krolia happen to be very conscious of this. But even so, there will always be a level of detachment from their view of the “many” (in which Lance, Hunk and Pidge fall), and this is never so apparent as when things are told from Lance’s POV. He’s just another person. He’s just one person. One of the hundred of thousands that would be effected by the daily decisions of Keith or Krolia, and it is that constant tension between “big picture” and “small picture” that I try to draw out in the on-going struggles had by the characters.

2. For me, the character’s are the world. 

That’s not me being poetic or anything – let me explain.

Imagine this: Suppose there is a person who has been devoid of all of their senses, all of their life – no touch, no smell, no hearing – nothing. Then suppose, one day, they are shaken from this catatonic state for the first time. Their senses now free, how would they experience this scene I am writing? What is so prevailing to the senses that it demands to be included in the narrative?

That is how I write my my worlds, at least descriptively. I try to pick out a few key things someone wouldn’t be able to help but notice.

This is great for characterization, too, because I can tweak the premise of the “feelingless individual” to suit how I imagine my characters. 

Keith, for example, from star-crossed – a few things I keep in mind when writing him: he is constantly frustrated by his inability to act on his impulses, so when he does it is extra satisfying. He’s keenly aware of the mannerism of others because of his upbringing in the court – if they have a weapon on their hip, for instance, is something he would notice in a heartbeat.

There were certain ticks to look for in a person trying to get too close: the ways their eyes moved, where their hands sat, what sort of clothing they wore. Was it something trim and fitted to make for an easy escape, or something bulky with a dozen pockets to hide any manner of weapon? Were those chemical burns on their hands from working with unstable materials? Did they look restless, liked they’d been up all night debating with themselves to go through with such a monumental act?

Maybe it was just learned paranoia, but these were the small enough traits that most people wouldn’t notice.

Keith, however, was trained to notice.

Lance, on the other hand, is a little more indulgent but easily overwhelmed; he has been restricted his whole life, so he indulges often and easily, but that puts him in a vulnerable position that can (and has) left him open to being hurt by the world around him. He’s one who is going to notice the weather, the quality of the air, because those were things that held meaning to him when he lived in the mountains – he’s one to fixate on his own mistakes, because he’s used to them being pointed out to him.

Lotor wanted to take off his mask so it was one less thing getting in the way, an obstruction to peeling back Lance’s sense of self, his ideas and interests and beliefs balled up in and thrown in a bin, along with his name and his past, so that he could be some fucked up little prize for the guy’s own enjoyment.

The fucking betrayal of his own body, too. The flushed cheeks, the friction of his hips over Lotor’s… ugh. It wasn’t —  he didn’t want it, it didn’t feel good, but the physical sensation was demanding and his body literally could not do anything but respond, and the memory of that alone was enough to have him clutching his head between his knees, legs drawn up to his chest.

Why was this so confusing? It shouldn’t be, and that only made Lance more frustrated. Lotor was a selfish asshole who tried to use his title to his advantage and force Lance to do things he didn’t want to do. Lance had even succeeded in pushing him away and standing up for himself, but the triumph was bittersweet.

This mindset was especially critical when writing Chapter 14: Twenty-Six Hours, because it was the first time we delved into the consciousnesses of the other characters! (I’m just really happy with the way that one turned out *sob*)

Also, a note on villany: I really dislike one dimensional villains. I prefer when my evil comes with a healthy dose of “fuck I sort of agree with that… to an extent?”

Which is why writing Lotor’s big monologue in Chapter 16: The Prisoner’s Dileema was such a challenge. I had to make his treatment of Lance seem, in some fucked up version of reality, justifiable. Because really, Lotor is a product of circumstance; he was raised with his beliefs of the poor and especially of someone of Lance’s “status,” and was acting in such a way that reflected that up-bringing. Now, Keith was raised in similar circumstances and isn’t a huge piece of shit, so there’s no excuse for Lotor’s behavior – but it’s at least logical. You can imagine buying an ox that’s for sale at the market, and then using said ox to plow your fields; we don’t see that as cruel or as mistreatment. Lotor sees Lance as little more than that, and so, in giving him lots of attention and “validation” (something that we know canon-Lotor was unfortunately lacking), it stands to reason that he was in fact trying to be kind to Lance, to treat him with a warped sense of respect.

…okay, that’s all for now! I really hope this helps and wasn’t too long-winded, like everything I do. you’ve effectively made my morning, anon, and I hope you have a wonderful day. my best wishes and luck to you while writing you story! 

#writing things #writing inspiration #ask answered #inside my head #klance #klance fanfic #keith kogane #lance mcclain #vld fanfic #voltron fanfic

[abimckeag-blog]

In Detail, part one

now that I’ve identified the bulk of the experiences I’ve had throughout my life, I feel it’s only fair to explain how I’ve delt with them and what caused them to begin with.

I can’t always identify the roots of my issues, but I can normally come pretty close to knowing what triggered any self destructive behavior or negative mindset.

In this post I want to discuss my struggle with suicidal thoughts.

I know this is a topic that doesn’t get discussed as freely and often as it should.

according to an article written in May of 2017, over 9 million people in America alone consider killing themselves every year.

and to me, that number seems small.

I know several people who have also struggled with thoughts of suicide and unfortunately I knew several people who lost their battles.

I hope that if you are struggling right now you can draw inspiration from my story to seek out help, you should never have to deal with this alone.

before I continue I’m going to leave the number to the suicide hotline here, in case anyone can’t remember the name of that one Logic song, and because it’s a great outlet right at your fingertips, please take advantage of it if you feel the need.

1-800-273-8255, there’s an online chat option if you feel like a phone call would be uncomfortable, remember it’s anonymous, and NO ONE is ever going to judge you for taking care of yourself.

now onto my story.

until I was, around 9 I had no idea what suicide was, I didn’t realize that was an option.

I had a fairly standard childhood, I don’t remember that much to be honest.

I know my parents loved me and my siblings, but I also know they weren’t around much.

both of my parents worked full time and on call as anesthesiologists at the hospital in North Platte and we had a nanny to watch us during the day.

the bulk of my childhood memories revolve around time spent with babysitters and nannies and being forced to go to piano lessons and volleyball practice and dance lessons and the typical childhood stuff.

when I was young I didn’t want to partake in a lot of the stuff my parents signed me up for which I think is normal for young kids, I really wish I could go back in time and tell my younger self to suck it up and accept the blessings they were giving me.

but as a little 7 year old being forced to play soccer when all I wanted to do was build forts in my backyard, I couldn’t see how privileged I was to be given these opportunities.

to me, it seemed like the only time I saw my parents was when they were taking me to and from these things and even then my nanny took me to the bulk of the activities, so you’d think I’d enjoy going out and playing sports cause I got to see my parents, but that wasn’t the case.

I wanted to quit them so that we’d have time to stay at home and play hide and seek and just normal kid stuff.

as a little kid though you have no way of conveying that’s what you’re thinking, instead, all you can do is throw a fit and come off as a total brat.

so growing up with your parents not around is kind of rough and I think that really set me up for some not so great life experiences.

I never learned how to communicate with my parents, I never talked with them about important things like religion, boys, puberty, etc.

they sure tried to talk to me about it, but I never reciprocated that connection, I thought if I kept all my issues to myself then I’d seem stronger and more put together.

now all this detail about my childhood, which honestly was a great childhood, I am truly blessed, I know there are so many people out there with stories so so so much worse than mine, anyways, this just explains how I never learned to communicate or find a healthy outlet for my emotions because I only wanted to talk to my parents about all the cool stuff I did that day and not serious issues.

suicide had never crossed my mind until I was probably 11 or 12, I was a really early bloomer and my hormones basically turned me into a tyrant.

I was constantly mad at everything and I found that rebelling against my parents was going to be my new outlet.

I died my hair, I smeared black eyeliner on, I bought black lipstick, I wore all black clothes (still do, but it’s fashion), I listened to loud, angry music, I painted my nails black, I quit going to church, or when I did I was mad about it, I turned into the stereotype you’re already probably picturing.

but the thing is, I wasn’t just changing my outward appearance and physical state, my mental state was deteriorating.

it takes so much energy to be mad all the time and it was exhausting me.

I felt terrible about myself, I turned to starving myself and cutting myself and then eventually binge eating hoping it would somehow make me feel better.

I had a voice in the back of my head telling me it would all go away if I just ended it.

on several occasions I remember raiding our medicine cabinet hoping to find something I knew I could overdose on.

I remember holding a handful of ibuprofen up to my mouth hoping that if I swallowed it I would just disappear, but God was watching me.

he’d been with me this whole time no matter how many times I denied him.

something told me it wouldn’t be worth it, I told myself it wouldn’t work, I’d just end up getting my stomach pumped, and then everything would be worse afterwards.

I didn’t do it.

moving to a new town certainly saved my life in some aspects, for those that don’t know, I moved right before my eighth grade year, I transferred from a lutheran school to a public middle school.

it was quite the shock, it definitely was beneficial but also detrimental for my mental health.

I continued to struggle with the thoughts of suicide all throughout high school.

my junior year of high school was when everything peaked.

I’d made a dumb mistake that summer before without thinking about the consequences.

I lost a lot of friends and those that were once my friends were now the closest thing to bullies I’d ever experienced.

it made me sick to wake up in the morning knowing I’d have to go to school and see them everyday.

the things that were said to me were unbelievably cruel.

I remember driving around late at night just debating if I should drive my car into a light pole or a ditch, I remember considering driving head on into the oncoming traffic on many occasions.

but everytime I almost made the worst decision of my life, God intervened.

now I have never been an extremely religious person, I was raised in the church, my mom has always been on the worship team wherever we were, and my father is an extremely spiritual man, but it never translated to me until this summer.

so during this whole time, I never once sat down and prayed and asked God for advice, yet he somehow still got me through everything.

eventually, junior year ended, and there I was.

still standing.

I met a boy and I fell in love and we were together for my entire senior year, and then in late December, my self esteem dropped.

my mental health was beginning to deteriorate and thoughts of suicide rushed through my brain.

I tried to explain to him what was happening to me, but I couldn’t find the right words and he had issues going on in his life he needed to cope with, and eventually after struggling with thoughts of killing myself for 5 months, I couldn’t take it anymore.

I had a full mental breakdown in May and after months of living in a broken relationship, torn apart by my inability to love myself, we ended things.

it destroyed me for a few weeks, but I invested myself so heavily in my job and I changed gyms and started hanging out with friends whenever I could, I just sort of ignored it.

it was when nobody was around and I was home doing nothing that feelings of immense depression overtook me.

I struggled with the worst season of binge eating I’ve ever experienced this summer.

I wouldn’t get out of bed until 1pm on a good day, I’d stay out till 5am, and then repeat the cycle.

then I had my awakening, God was still watching me, he was hoping I’d find him on my own, but that wasn’t the case.

he sent one of my best friends to save me.

I spilled out everything, every bad thought, every raw emotion I’d been holding inside, and I felt free.

they told me about God’s grace and mercy and his never ending forgiveness.

they said “if God can forgive you, why can’t you forgive yourself?”.

I started to look in the mirror and instead of hating the person I’d become, I started appreciating myself for overcoming what I’ve been through.

instead of hating my body, I appreciated it for all the amazing things it’s capable of.

instead of living in regret for past decisions, I let them go.

I stopped dwelling.

but here I am today, laying on my bedroom floor, and I’ll admit that yesterday I wasn’t happy with myself, and the day before that, and the day before that, and even right now I know I’m not 100% content with myself.

and that’s okay.

I still struggle with thoughts of suicide, I have been for 7 years.

I will never be perfect.

I may never stop having dark thoughts, but I will never give in.

I know I have a purpose, I know I have worth, I know I am not useless.

and neither are you.

none of us are.

we are all beautifully and wonderfully made and God loves us so much, it’s completely unfathomable.

if you are struggling today and you need someone to talk, feel free to talk to me, I am here for anyone, but before you talk to me,

I want you to pray.

ask for guidance, ask for forgiveness, and know that you are loved, no matter how far you think you stray from the Lord, he is always right there beside you, just waiting for you to call on him.

now I know there’s a lot I didn’t cover in this, even though it’s very long, but I will continue posting these, hence why this is only part one.

each one discussing different issues I have dealt with and I’m sure some of you are experiencing.

I really hope this helped you, even if it didn’t, I hope you can understand for just a second that God loves you, he always has, and always will.

[geffbob]

Togger

The Excited Dwarf

 Togger got out of bed at 6am sharp, like he does every morning and like he will continue to do until he’s too old to mine anymore. Dwarves are interesting creatures in the sense that they wake up the second the sun touches their faces. Humans usually spend minutes or hours in bed rolling around instead of doing what they’re supposed to do. Dwarves, on the other hand, hate sleeping, you can’t get drunk if you’re asleep. He jumps out of bed, stretches, and gets ready to go. There’s no need to shower, considering that dwarves usually work in sulphur or coal mines, which means upon 10 seconds of entering the mine they’re already smelling like something awful. This will be Togger’s 500th day at the mine starting today, and he’s excited to see what will happen.

 On his way out of his house and to the mine, he runs into an old friend of his, Jhonny, a human. Normally humans are a rare sight in a dwarven village, but Jhonny is different. He’s part of the Adventure’s Guild, which means he’s probably down here in the dwarven capital to collect a bounty. “What the bloody hell are you doing here you pink looking bastard?” Togger shouts; (as far as Dwarven culture is concerned, that is one of the politest ways a Dwarf would greet a human). “Not much mate. Just came to turn in something” Jhonny replies. He holds up a brown leather sack containing something that’s round, pointy, hard and clearly bleeding. It’s tightly bound together with string at the top and there’s some flies buzzing around it. Considering Jhonny is a certified monster hunter, Jhonny hazards a guess as to what it could be. “Is that the soddin’ goblin leader that’s been nicking sheep?” “yep! I’ll be seeing you”- Jhonny shouts, briskly walking away. “Typical human” Togger thinks “always in a fekkin’ rush”.

 Upon reaching the mine, Togger is greeted with a small surprise coming from the mouth of the mine; “HAPPY 500TH VISIT YOU OLD SOD!” -Shout 1000 workers in unison. Dwarves are known for being in sync with many things, shouting absurdities at other Dwarves is one of them. “SHUT IT YA PACK OF WILD ANIMALS, DGARD OV NON REKKEN” he shouts down the mineshaft, which I shall not translate as humans should try their hardest not to learn Dwarven insults. “Sodding heck lad” says the senior manager, slowly exiting the shaft’s head and walking towards him, “you’ve really been here 500 times?” “yep” Togger replies “now, could you sod off cause I’ve got a lot to do and your daft expression is slowing me down” (insubordination is not a word in the Dwarven dictionary). The senior manager chuckles and moves out of the way. Togger walks forward, grabs a pickaxe off the rack and heads down the dark mine.

 Dwarven mines are a sight to behold, but only if you can see in the dark (which Dwarves can). They’re massive, known for being bigger than most cities. This mine in particular is over 5km in circumference- quite small as far as most mines are concerned, 5km of hollowed out ground in which thousands of workers come to extract minerals and materials. The mine is littered with support beams holding up the earth, either natural beams that were excavated around or metal beams that were transported inside. Stairwells and paths are jotted everywhere, seemingly at random but are clearly labelled as to not get lost. The main pathway (the one Togger is walking on) splits off into many different directions, all leading to different areas. Some paths lead to a hollowed-out part of the wall, which is used as break rooms, offices, med bays etc, other paths lead up or down to places with high concentration of minerals where miners usually work. Some paths lead to black stairwells which take you down to the excavation site, a place where gigantic drills smash up rocks at the bottom of the hollowed-out mine, looking for rare materials or oil. The drills are lava proof- obviously. Togger takes the 6th pathway he sees, which leads him down a 45-degree angle to the right, where a small hollowed cave section awaits him, with 30 dwarves in there, looking right terrified.

 “what are you lads and lassies waiting for? We got a quota to take care of and I’m not about to miss it!” barks Togger (he’s not a manager, just likes yelling). “Look Tog mate, happy 500th and all, but we’ve got a problem. Some rockmanti (mantises made of rocks) have taken up residence in the space below, they’ve got their greasy claws on a bunch of sapphires down there”. Togger looks at them in surprise, rockmanti don’t usually come this close to the surface, and they certainly don’t go after sapphires, one of the worst tasting gems out there, unless they’re absolutely starving.

 “Odd” replies Togger “rockmanti don’t usually nab sapphires, they’re more into hard diamonds or emeralds. “Yeah” replies the frightened dwarf, “that’s why we’re scared. If they’re hungry enough to be going after sapphires, then they’re hungry enough to attack anything that gets close”. Togger looks closely at the dwarf in front of him. A dwarf about 1m tall with bright green eyes, loose fitting overalls and an assortment of grease and tools over their body. This dwarf is around 90-100 years old (Dwarves live to 200 years on average) and has a long 70cm bushy brown beard, put into braids. Female.

 “HELP!” shouts someone a few hundred meters down the hole. The group look up as they see a stubby human running towards them. Humans aren’t commonly found in dwarven mines, but this one is well known. He’s Bob, an exiled human, forbidden to ever enter a human settlement again, exiled humans usually work in other race’s settlements as they cannot work for humans again. Humans are terrible workers, but they’re adaptable and mostly immune to poisonous mine gasses. Also, they’re expendable. “THEY’VE GOT JIMMY”. Togger widens his eyes, Jimmy, a young git, got himself in hot water again. Togger picks up his pickaxe and draws a dagger, seemingly out of nowhere, and heads down the hole.

 “GET OFF ME FEKKING LEG” shouts Jimmy, screaming in pain. The rockmanti have him in a corner and are stabbing at him. As Togger bursts into the dark opening, he sees what he expected. 7 manti, all about 1.5m tall, 2m when standing on hind legs. Grey and coated in a hard rock-like exoskeleton (hence the name, rockmanti). 4 of them are eating blue gems, chomping them down with sharp hard teeth. The other 3 are surrounding Jim, who’s lying in the corner in a pool of blood. One of his arms lies a few meters away from him, clearly torn off his body by something a lot stronger than him. He wastes no time, he quickly jumps towards the closest one, swinging his pick over his head vigorously into the head of it, smashing it into pieces, causing blood, sapphire and rocks to splatter into the ground. The second and third manti lunge towards him, trying to bite off his arms. Togger swings in a full 360-degree fashion, knocking 2 legs off the second one and smashing the third one against the wall. The other manti notice his presence and start heading towards him, snarling and spitting. Togger deftly avoids the spit and stabs the 4th one in his thorax with the dagger, smashing the thorax into bits. The 5th and 6th manti swing wildly at Togger, but he rolls underneath their claws and breaks his pickaxe over the head of the 5th one and throws his dagger at the 6th, impaling it against the wall. However, suddenly, he feels a sharp pain in his lower back.

 “DGARTH” he shouts and spins to see what struck him. The 7th mantis, which he didn’t see before, had snuck behind them and had bitten off a small chunk of flesh from his bottom. Looking at the mantis dead in the eyes, he notices that his pick is smashed to bits and his dagger is about 10m away, perforating the wall and the head of a rock mantis, unusable. The mantis shrieks at him and lunges, aiming for the neck. Togger has no choice, he closes his eyes, raises his hands, and mumbles an incarnation. “hun got yeth no wor dem ya” he whispers, pointing his empty palm at the mantis, opening his eyes, suddenly full of magic, and shoots. A fireball slams into the face of the mantis, melting off its flesh and burning the inside of the brains to a black crisp. The impact launches the mantis a few meters off the ground and into the open hallway. Retrieving his dagger, he runs over to Jimmy, who’s suddenly gone quiet. “Dgarth” he whispers again, and launches another, smaller, fireball down the hallway. Which explodes at the end like a flare, a sign for medical aid. Within 2 minutes, a team of dwarven doctors come and pick up Jim and his arm. Leading him towards the med bay. Togger follows them up to the surface and makes sure nothing follows them. Before he loses sight of him in the ambulance, Jimmy opens his eyes, and whispers “thank you”.

 Togger spent the rest of the day receiving praise from his peers, all dwarves can use magic, but only a few of them can use combat magic. The majority just use magic to carve rocks out, not attack other creatures. After 10 minutes he got fed up and yelled to be left alone, this request being ignored completely. After an hour, he started feeling dizzy and decided to cut the rest of the day short. He headed out of the mine, past the showers (where he received a brief 10 second squirt down by a young dwarf with a hose) and into town. Stopping at the nearest bar, he spent the rest of the day drunk before heading home. Dwarves don’t get drunk to hide emotions; they mostly get drunk to think about things. He didn’t want others to know that he was in the army, he just wanted to be left alone to smash rocks to bits. Upon arriving home, he notices a card in his letterbox. “Oi Togger” it begins “Jim here. Cheers, don’t worry, we already knew you were an army nut, nobody else would head towards 7 rockmanti without hesitation and even less would rescue me. If you don’t want people to say anything, they won’t.”

 Smiling, Togger heads inside, turns on the telly, pours himself a scotch, and spends the rest of the night watching anime.

#short story #fantasy

[bxcketbarnes]

Switching Sides

Pairing: Mitch Rapp x Reader

Author: @ninja-stiles

Words: 3542

Warning: NSFW (18+)

Prompt #20: Are you trying to seduce me by anonymous

Author’s Note: A big thank you to @mf-despair-queen for helping me with the plot cause I had no fucking clue, lol. Also, a thank you to @rememberstilinski for proofreading this for me! Enjoy!

I’ve been working with Ghost for quite a few years and he’s trained me to be quite the hit woman, not that I wasn’t a great one before; because I was. I’ve killed over a hundred people that was in danger of exposing what Ghost had planned and I haven’t been caught yet, which has impressed a lot of his men since I’m a woman. I’m the one person that he trusts the most, hence why I’m always at his side when he goes on missions. We arrived in yet another country, Ghost obviously running from something as I try to figure it out, but not succeeding in any way. I’d contemplated on asking him, but that’s probably not a good idea. He hates talking about his own demons. I walked up to the receptionist in the hotel lobby, giving him a charming smile as he smirked, looking my body over.

 “How can I help you miss?” He asked and I leaned in, showing a bit of cleavage, motioning him to come closer. He leaned in, licking his lips as my lips are pressed to the shell of his ear.

 “I’m in dire need of a room, but I don’t have any money. Maybe… you can help me out and I can repay you in another way.” I nibbled his earlobe as he shuddered, a moan escaping his lips, nodding his head vigorously. When I pulled away from him, biting my lip as he stumbled over his footing, a bulge present in his pants, grabbing a key for me. I read his name tag, Luke, as he handed me the key, his eyes drifting towards my breasts again. I blew him a kiss as I walked away, getting into the elevator pressing the number forty.

 “I got it,” I mumbled, walking off the elevator as I unlocked the door, walking into the suite. “The number’s 47.”

 “Great job, Y/N. I knew I kept you around for a reason.” I rolled my eyes at his statement, sitting down on the bed in one of the bedrooms. Kept me around. Motherfucker, you need me. I heard the door to the hotel room open, deep voices flowing throughout the whole room as I stood up, going into the bathroom to wash my face. There was a knock on the door to the room I had claimed and I dry my face off with the towel that’s hanging up before walking back into the room, seeing Ghost leaning against the doorframe.

 “Sir? Did you need something?” I asked and he nodded his head, motioning me to follow him. We walked into the living room area where his men started setting up computers and shit.

 “I need you to go out and eliminate this man. He compromised himself and I want him dealt with before he has the chance to talk,” Ghost mutters and I take a closer look at the laptop, narrowing my eyes as I take in the man’s looks, remembering every detail.

 “Yes, sir,” I mumbled, taking out my phone, snapping a picture of the man before walking back into my room, placing my suitcase on the bed, unzipping it. I pull out the various guns I own, laying them onto the mattress as I pulled off my shirt, throwing it onto the floor near the closet. Slipping my leggings off, throwing it in the same spot as my shirt, I put on a pair of black skinny jeans, pulling a white tank top on over my head, adjusting my breasts before placing my brown leather jacket on. I sat down on the bed, pulling my army boots on, tying them before tucking my throwing knives into them. I make sure my gun has bullets before inserting it into the back of my jeans. I let out a small sigh as I left the hotel room, getting into the elevator, getting a ride to the lobby. My phone went off, tugging my phone out of my back pocket, I saw Ghost had texted me details of the target’s location.

 “Mid Rise restaurant, huh?” I locked my phone, shoving it back into my pocket as the elevator dinged, the doors opening, revealing the beauty of the lobby. I waltzed out of the hotel, walking down the street towards the restaurant, keeping my head down, so no one can actually see my face. I find the restaurant in the distance, crossing the busy street quickly before walking inside. I scan the dining area, looking for my target when I find him dining with a woman. I scoff quietly before smiling at the host.

 “Hi, cutie. Table for one please,” I asked politely and he smiled, nodding his head before taking a menu, guiding me to a table that’s a few feet away from Muhammad. I glanced at the back of his head before turning my attention towards the waiter that had walked up to my table, looking me up and down.

 “Well, hello, pretty lady,” the waiter smirked and I gave him a flirtatious smile. “I’m Ryan and I’ll be your waiter for the evening. Can I start you out with anything to drink?”

 “Hmm, what would you recommend?” I asked, leaning forward a bit as my breasts are pushed together and I noticed his eyes gazing towards them, giving me a smirk.

 “Well, I would recommend a night with me. I’d rock your world.” he winked and I fake laughed, shaking my head. I was about to answer with a sarcastic comment as gunshots went off, making me dip under the table and the waiter running out of the restaurant. I saw Muhammad run out of the restaurant, into a fancy black mercedes, driving off.

 “Dammit,” I muttered, getting out from underneath the table, running out of the restaurant towards the hotel. I walk quickly into the tall building, making my way towards the elevator, getting in it quickly, pushing the button to our floor. I tapped my foot against the floor, wishing this damn thing would move a little faster. Once the elevator doors open, I ran to the room, shoving the key card into the door and it unlocks. “Ghost, we’ve got a problem,” I told him, walking into the living area as he stood there with my target, both of them pointing a gun at me.

 “It seems like you’ve failed me, Y/N,” Ghost mentioned and I furrowed my eyebrows in anger, resting my hands against my hips.

 “Failed you? This was a fucking test?” I asked, anger laced in my voice as he just shrugged, a smirk on his lips. “I’ve killed hundreds of men in your fucking honor and you have the audacity to test me? Before I even started working for you, I killed twice as many,” I spat, one of my hands, resting against the butt of my gun. “So, what? You’re gonna kill me?” I asked and he shook his head, pointing his gun towards my room.

 “No, not yet,” he muttered and I begin to walk towards my room, furious with this guy. “Leave your weapons,” Ghost demanded and I stopped in my tracks, pulling the gun out of my jeans, tossing it towards them. I winked at the men before walking into my room, locking the door behind me.

 “Fuckin’ ridiculous,” I muttered to myself, pulling the knives out of my boots before taking them off, needing a hot shower. I ripped off all my clothes, walking into the bathroom completely naked as I turned on the shower. I jumped in, feeling the hot water bounce off my skin. I let out a sigh, placing my face under the shower head, softly rubbing my hands over my face. After my hot shower, I dried off my body, walking back into my room, digging through my suitcase finding my lacy black bra and matching thong. I put on my sheer robe, leaving it open as I walked towards the window, looking out at the city, admiring the view I have. I stand there for about a minute, hearing commotion in the living area of the hotel room and I walked back into my room, hiding under my bed, in case something terrible happens. I saw someone walk past my bed, my eyebrows furrowed together, wondering who it was and how they got into my room. I held my breath, waiting for him to leave my room.

 “Kill him!” I heard Ghost yell before a door slammed shut, signaling that he must’ve fled the room. Loads of guns went off and I crawled out from under my bed, pressing my ear against the door, hearing grunts and punches being thrown before hearing heavy breathing. I throw the gun on my bed, pushing my breasts together to make them stand out more, opening the door before walking out into the other room. The young man turns around, pointing his gun at me and I put my hands up in defense, his eyes roaming my body as I gave him a innocent smile.

 “Please don’t shoot,” I called out and he tilted his head to the side, analyzing my face. He narrows his eyes at me, wondering if he knows who I actually am.

 “Why shouldn’t I?” He asked and I walked closer to him, moving my hips as I walk, taking my bottom lip between my teeth, one of the sleeves of the robe falling off my shoulder a bit.

 “Well, why would you want to shoot an innocent girl? They’ve held me captive,” I muttered, giving him puppy eyes as I stood in front of him, lightly touching his chest. “I’m so glad you’re here. You’ve freed me. What’s the name of my savior?” I asked, looking up at him through my lashes, trailing my hand up his chest, laying on his bicep as he lowered the gun.

 “Mitch, Mitch Rapp,” He muttered, looking down at me with cautious eyes, his guard still up as I smiled flirtatiously at him, gripping his bicep.

 “Wow, Mitch. You’ve got quite the muscle. God I bet you’re an animal between the sheets,” I whispered, my body pressed against his as I moved him towards the couch. The back of his knees hit the couch, falling onto it as I laid my hands against the back of it, leaning forward, my breasts almost falling out of my bra. “How can I repay you?” I asked sultry, straddling his hips, pressing my tits into his face as my lips touched his ear lightly. “I’ll do anything.”

 I heard a groan escape his lips, his hand wrapping around my throat as he hovered over me, pinning me to the couch, pointing his gun at me once more and I let out a huff. “Are you trying to seduce me?” Mitch questioned and I licked my lips before biting into it, my hand gripping his wrist.

 “Well if it’s working, then yes.” I smiled at him, my robe opening more, my breasts fully on display as his eyes glanced down at them. My other hand pressed against the bulge in his jeans, a quiet moan escaping his lips. “And you’re pretty excited. C’mon, don’t be afraid to touch me. I like it rough,” I whispered as his hand around my throat loosened, running my fingers through his chocolate locks, pulling his face down towards mine, kissing him roughly. His hand moved down towards one of my tits, squeezing it roughly, moving the fabric down, exposing my hard nipple. Mitch began trailing his lips down my neck, leaving wet kisses along the way as his long slender fingers pinching my nub. I let out a moan, arching my back as he smirked against my skin.

 “Oh, you like that huh?” He whispered into my ear, his teeth grazing against the outer shell before moving down my body a bit, his lips pressed against my collarbone. I nodded my head, feeling him repeat his action, sucking on my skin. “Say it,” he demanded, looking up at me with a fire in his eyes.

 “Y-Yes,” I groaned, his lips connecting with my nipple, one of his hands reaching under me, unclipping the bra before throwing it across the room.

 “Yes what?” He asked, pinching my other nipple as his tongue swirled around my nub. I gripped the cushion, looking down at him, his eyes still on me as I bit my lip.

 “Y-Yes, sir,” I moaned quietly, my fingers gripping his hair as he bit down. A gasp escaped my lips as my arousal begin to pool in my thong. He kissed down the valley of my breasts, biting softly as his lips stopped at the beginning of my panties. Mitch’s fingers pressed against my covered clit, rubbing roughly as I let out a squeal, my hips writhing underneath him. “Mi-Mitch,” I mewled, leaning my head back as he glanced up at me, smirking. Mitch moved my panties to the side, licking his lips as he eyes my glistening folds.

 “You’re so wet already, baby,” Mitch growled, leaning down before licking up my folds, tingles flowing throughout my body. His tongue delved through my folds, connecting with my clit as I moaned out once again, arching my back as he pressed two of his fingers against my entrance, pushing in slowly. He began pumping his fingers in and out of my, whirling his tongue around the sensitive nub, sucking on it lightly. Mitch’s fingers hit my sweet spot, connecting with it every time he pushed his fingers into me.

 “F-Fuck, sir, I’m gonna cum soon,” I muttered, feeling the familiar feeling of bliss course through my veins, my legs begin shaking as he bit down against my sensitive clit, making me cry out, gripping the couch cushion. I became very close to letting it all go when he pulled his fingers out of me, his lips removed from my clit as I breathed heavily. I looked down at him, eyes widened as he stood up, pulling his shirt over his head, beginning to unbutton his jeans.

 “On your knees, now,” he demanded and at first I didn’t move, still surprised that he just denied me of my orgasm. My lips parted as I looked over his sculpted body, swallowing hard as he pulled his jeans off. His hand gripped my hair roughly, bringing me to my knees as I let out a painful groan. “When I tell you to do something, you do it. Understood?” Mitch growled, his face inches from mine as I nodded my head. He pressed his lips roughly to mine for a hot second before standing up straight. “Now, suck me off, princess.” I nodded my head excitingly, turned on at his roughness.

 “Yes, sir,” I mumbled, pulling his boxers down, exposing his length. My mouth watered at the sight of him, licking my lips slowly as I glanced up at him. His eyes filled with lust as his hand ran through my hair, gripping it in his fingers. He stepped out of his boxer briefs, stroking himself slowly, a smirk on his lips. I took his length into my hand, his hand resting against his side as I lick up the underside of his cock, my eyes never leaving his. Mitch let out a groan as I swirled my tongue around his tip before taking him between my lips.

 “Oh, such a good girl,” He moaned, hollowing my cheeks around him, taking him deeper, his tip hitting the back of my throat. I gagged a bit and Mitch began moving my head, pumping his length in and out of my mouth. I placed both my hands against his thighs as he continued thrusting into my mouth. I pulled my head off his cock, panting heavily as I stroked his length, licking up his shaft a few times.

 “You have such a big cock, sir,” I moaned, taking him back into my mouth as I bobbed my head on his length, taking his balls into my hand, massaging them gently as consecutive moans left his lips.

 “You love my big cock don’t you, princess?” Mitch moaned and I nodded my head, running my tongue over his vein. “I’m gonna cum baby girl,” both of his hands rested on the back of my head, fucking my mouth as I gagged on his length, feeling him tense up. Mitch grunted, thrusting sharply as he reached his release. He held his cock in my mouth as I swallowed all of his cum. He pulled himself out of my mouth as I breathed heavily, looking up at him and he pulled me to my feet, bringing me behind the couch, bending me over it. Mitch pulled my thong down my legs, rubbing his fingers against my pussy lips, his lips pressed against my shoulder.

 “Mitch, please, I need your cock,” I moaned and his hands disappeared from my folds. His hand came down onto my ass cheek, making me moan out loudly.

 “Don’t worry princess, you’ll get it,” he growled, stroking his tip through my folds before finding my entrance, pushing in slowly at first. His fingers grip my hips, pulling my ass back onto his cock, pumping in and out of me faster as I grip the edge of the couch, moaning loudly. Mitch slapped my ass once again, thrusting harder as his balls slap against my cheeks, one of his hands rubbing up my back, pulling on the back of my hair. I moaned his name as he pulls my head back by my hair, roughly pumping his cock into me.

 “O-Oh fuck, sir,” I moaned, my eyes rolling back into my head, his lips pressed against my ear, hearing small groans escape from his lips. Mitch pulls out of me and I turn around, pushing him onto the couch, climbing on top of him as I begin to position him at my entrance. He wrapped his hand around my neck, pushing me onto the couch, hovering over me like he had done earlier, anger surging through his face.

 “I don’t think so, princess. I’m in charge here,” Mitch growled slipping his length into me again, pumping hard and fast, his tip hitting my cervix. I let out a small scream, arching my back, my hands searching for something to grip onto. Mitch’s hands pushed my knees towards my chest, pumping his length faster, small grunts leaving his lips as his thumb connected with my clit. A gasp escaped my lips, bucking my hips up as he pinned my hips against the couch, animalistic noises released from his throat.

 “O-Oh my god. I’m gonna cum!” I screamed, squeezing my tits together, the bottomless pit feeling in my lower abdomen.

 “Me too, baby. Cum with me,” Mitch moaned, leaning down, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips before pulling me into him while he pumps his cock deeper into me, hitting my sweet spot with every thrust. My toes begin to curl, leaning my head back as I moan out loudly, gripping his hair tightly as my walls clenched around his length. Mitch grunts quietly, thrusting sharply into me as he stops his thrust deep inside me, cumming. I moaned out as I reached my high, arching my back, cumming all over his length. He pumped a few more times as my walls milked his cock, releasing everything inside me before pulling out, laying his head in my neck.

 “Holy shit,” I breathed, my heart pounding against my chest as I felt his breath hitting my skin. I closed my eyes for a second, feeling him sit up and I heard a gun being cocked. My breath hitched, opening my eyes as he pointed the gun at me and I shuffled, sitting up, grabbing my robe, tying it around my body. “M-Mitch, wait,” I muttered, placing my hands out.

 “No, how stupid do you think I am? I know you work with Ghost,” Mitch muttered, narrowing his eyes at me. “You’d be one less problem if I kill you now.”

 “Mitch, please. I-I don’t work with him anymore. H-He sent me on a test after two years working under him. He doesn’t trust me, but I know all his secrets. I can help you,” I stumbled, kneeling in front of him, feeling the barrel of his gun against my chest. “Give me a chance,” I whispered, glancing up at him, his eyes staring down at me, his lips parted. Mitch put the gun down and I let out a sigh of relief, closing my eyes as my heartbeat starts to slow down a bit.

 “Go get dressed. We have to go meet my associate then we’ll discuss Ghost’s plans, alright?” I nodded my head, getting off the couch as I waltz towards my room.

 “Um, Mitch?” I questioned and he turned towards me, a small smile on his lips. “Can I take a shower first?” I asked and he nodded his head, biting his lip. I untied my robe, letting it fall off my shoulders as I licked my lips. “You coming?”

 “Fuck yes,” Mitch mumbled, running after me as I let out a scream, his strong arms wrapping around my waist as he carries me into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

#mitch rapp #mitch rapp smut #mitch rapp imagines #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp fanfiction #mitch x reader #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagines #dylan o'brien smut #dylan o'brien fanfiction #dylan x reader #dylan o'brien x reader #stiles stilinski smut #teen wolf #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski imagines #stiles stilinski #stuart twombly smut #stuart twombly #stuart twombly imagines #stuart x reader #stuart twombly x reader #the internship #dave hodgman smut #dave x reader #dave hodgman #dave hodgman imagines #dave hodgman x reader #the first time #thomas

[calliecat93]

Okay, I need to vent this out. The ‘Ruby is really Qrow’s daughter’ theory baffle me for MULTIPLE reasons. Now if you believe the theory, that is fine. Who am I to kill others enjoyment? It is a fun theory with character development opportunities for everyone involved if true... but there’s still various issues with it. If it’s true, great. But there’s really no hinting or anything to confirm it and it breaks a lot of logic. THis is a critical post looking at the reasons that, inmy opinion,t he theory jsut doens’t work. It’s only my opinuon and youa re free to agree or disagree with me. Thank you, and now lets get this out of my system.

1. Genetics

This is probably the most common argument I’ve seen. When you look at Ruby, she doesn't really have anything matching Tai the same way Yang does. Now we’ve seen a photo of Summer, and Ruby does take after her in various ways (silver eyes, body structure, wears a hood). But her appearance, wearing a lot of black and red, matches Qrow more. Her fighting style also closely matches Qrow and he’s the one she’s closest to, even above her father. 

But... here’s the issue with that. Ruby takes after Qrow because she chose to. Qrow trained her to fight and he is someone she idolizes due to it. She isn’t good at hand to hand, hence why Tai and Yang’s styles was probably something she chose not to take on. She is best with weaponry, and Qrow taught her to use a scythe, which IDT is exactly an easy weapon to use. And as far as looks go, yeah she doesn't look a lot like Tai... so what? I mean not counting fashion choices, the only thing Yang got from Tai was his hair color. Looks wise, she looks FAR closer to Raven. Heck, Ruby's fashion choices (red and black) can also match Raven more closely than Tai, but I don’t see any ‘Ruby is actually Raven's second daughter’ theories going around. Ruby just matches Qrow because she admires him and was taught by him and she just got mroe form her mom in terms of looks. But her personality, being a kind, caring person with some quirkiness, she definitely got form her dad because he raised her right. So saying that Ruby is Qrow’s real daughter because she looks more like him... doesn't work. 

2. Portrayal 

This is the biggest reason I can’t like this theory. So... lets say that Qrow and Summer did like each other. Okay, I’m fine with that. I have no issues with Qrow having feelings for Summer at all and due to his Semblance, it creates a tragic situation where he can't truly be with her. But for Ruby to be conceived... ti would mean that Summer cheated on Tai. And that would mean that Qrow... made love to Summer despite knowing that she was with Tai and knowing that the guy already got abandoned by his first wife. Tell me, does this make either Summer or Qrow likeable? At all?

Okay, maybe you can argue that Summer got with Tai after she got pregnant. Maybe Qrow had to leave due to his Semblance/his duty and Summer turned to Tai because of it. That's... still horrible cause she’s turning to another man when she should fully know the reasons why. heck, with her silver eyes she was probably even mroe central to the conflict. Moment of weakness, maybe. But that would also make Tai look horrible for taking advantage of a pregnant woman going through a hard time. Something that he would NOT due, especially since he would know better than any of them how being betrayed by a lover sucks. Now we don’t knwo a lot about Summer, but from what little insight we’ve gotten we know that she was a caring person who never gave up hope, ala Ruby. We’ve seen that Tai and Qrow are good guys, even if Qrow is kind of grumpy an jaded. Sure, maybe they grew up, but even so it doesn't really fit them to act that way. It just makes STRQ look like a bunch of terrible jerks who ruined their loes for stupid reasons. Yeah their team fell apart, but I don’t think soap opera cliches are the reasons why.

It just makes more sense and makes everyone still be likable if after Raven left, Summer tried to help Tai with Yang out of the goodness of her heart. It led t the two falling in love and having Ruby. Maybe Qrow would have been sad cause that killed any chance with Summer, but he accepted it and viewed Ruby as his niece as much as he did Yang. So then you’re left with people who are flawed, but still good. It just makes for less pointless cliched drama, is all I’m saying.

3. Family 

One reason I’ve seen people go with this theory si because of how many moent Ruby and Qrow have had. He treats RUby like a daughter and as I alreayd mentions, she modeled herself after him. We’ve never really seen her relationship with Tai outside the V3 finale and RUby implying that he’s overprotective. So it feels like that there’s a stronger connection between RUbya nd Qrow.

This is my issue with tat. Yes, RUbya nd Qrow are close. He does treat RUby as if she was his daughter and it’s adorable. So... why does that mean he has to be her father? Why can’t he just be her honorary uncle? That doesn't undermine the relationship at all. In fact, ti strengthens it. Neither Ruby nor Qrow are related by blood, but Qrow took on his niece because he wanted to help her get stronger and he taught her how to fight, strengthening her resole to become a Huntress. He’s known Ruby since she was born and watched her grow up, even if sometimes from a distance. He’s shown that he cares deeply for both of his nieces, he just expresses it in different ways. With Yang, he talks to her like she’s an adult. He knows that’s how she wants to be treated. Sure it can sound harsh, but it’s what she responds to and he understands that. It’s also why he told her where to find Raven. Yang is an adult and should be able to face her mother. He knows that she’ll make the right choice about her life and that she should be allowed to have that knowledge and do what she wants with it. 

But Ruby isn’t an adult. She doesn't respond to that kind of talk well. While she is growing up, she’s not as tough and it’s best to be mroe gentle and laid back when talking to her. SO Qrow treats her as she is, a young girl still growing. he doesn't talk down to her, but hes far more gentle and light-hearted with her than he is with Yang. It’s because he knows how these girls respond to things, and talks with them on the level that works best with them. Why? Because he’s their uncle and has been there since they were babies. He doesn't need to be Ruby’s father to care about her. He cares about her because he has been a par tof her life since she was young. He couldn't always be around, but he still made an effort. It shows that he’s overall a good person and does care about his nieces deeply. It doesn't matter what the relation is, it’s the type of person he is that matters. It’s why Raven is Yang’s mother only int he sense that she gave birth to her. Otherwise? She left her daughter when at least a few days old and made little effort to be with her. Due to it, Raven isn’t considered family by Yang and doesn't deserve to be at this time. Qrow is seen as the girls uncle because he still made the effort. And there is nothing wrong with that.

4. Logic

While my second reason is the reason I can't like the theory, this is the biggest reason on why I can't believe the theory Okay, lets pretend that the theory is confirmed. It turns out that Qrow is indeed Ruby's real father. He hid it form her because... because... ugh... huh, why did he hide it form her? That the biggest question I have with this. If this is true, why is Qrow hiding it? Okay, lets say it’s due to his Semblance. He’s a danger to Ruby, so he has to keep away form her... yet we know from Yang in V2 that he WAS around in their lives. We know form Ruby’ own words that Qrow trained her. Look, yes Qrow’s Semblance sucks, but it’s not an excuse to hide from Ruby that he’s her father. All that would nee dot be said is ‘my Semblance means I can't be around for long, so while I’m gon you get to lvoie with Taiyang and his daughter.” Why lie about it? Why have Tai pose as her real father to not hurt her? Even though the truth would eventually come out and hurt her anyways? Why make her question everything she knew all because he thought that not telling her the truth was better than just simply explaining why he was away so often, but assure her that he still loved her. Plus he STILL made an effort to be a part of her life, which kills the reason on why he’d keep back to begin with. 

Lets go with another theory. It’s possible that Qrow didn’t know that Ruby was his kid until she was born... but I think it wouldn’t take very long to do a DNA test (which I assume the kingdoms have) and find out. Which Tai would confront him about this since that would mean Summer cheated on him and... yeah this leads back to pointless drama. Which would mean that Qrow was ashamed or something and chose to hide it because of it. Which is arguably an even worst reason. Maybe Summer would still let him be involved in Ruby’s life, but why would she go along with it then? Why lie to her own child about her actual father? Sure, Summer died when Ruby couldn’t talk so Summer couldn’t explain it to her. But why would Tai hide it then? That make shim look no better than Qrow. Why would they both be that incredibly stupid and selfish? Heck, going off the ‘Summer cheated on him’ theory, why would he still BE with her? And if we go with the ‘Tai stole Summer’ theory, it just makes Ti nd SUmmer looks like terrible people keeping aman’s daughter away from him just to be dicks. WHich goes against their character and... UGH this is breaking my brain/

Lets stick tot he ‘Qrow is hiding it cause of Semblance’ theory cause it’s the most logical... and is still stupid. Qrow is NOT that STUPID or HEARTLESS. He would NEVER put Ruby through that kind of pain. He would never lie to her that way. It goes against his character and make shim look like an asshole on par with his sister. And do you think that Tai would go along with that? No, he wouldn’t. Especially since that would still mean that either he stole a pregnant woman from her lover or his lover went against his back. He would maybe still take Ruby in cause it’s still a kid who did nothing wrong, but he wouldn’t lie to her about that after the shit he went through. Its just OOC for both of them to hide that with little regard to how it would affect Ruby. Sure, they haven’t gone in to how Summer died so that may hit her hard, but that’s due to a larger conflict. Not because of stupid personal problems. There is just no real good reason for Qow to hide that he’s Ruby's father. If it’s true, maybe the show will come up with an explanation. But as it stands right now, ti would just be stupid, make zero sense, and would only serve in breaking Ruby for no good reason. And as much as I lie a good emotional character arc, it needs ot be for better reasons than that.

As I said, I’m not attacking those who believe the theory. You are free to keep believing in it. Hell, maybe I’m missing something and others have better evidence and explanations on why it does work and make sense. Fair enough. But to me, it’s just stupid, pointless, and makes everyone involved look like assholes. And it is why, unless CRWBY does make it canon and give a good reason why, I cannot and will not believe this theory. Thank you for reading.

#rwby #okay I fel better now #thank you venting