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cvntyworld · 1 month

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war of the worlds ( lucy maclean )

summary: in which a friendly yet naive to the wastelands vault dweller, offers some useful advice to a survivor that doesn't trust easy and thought vault dwellers were some myth that died out long ago. for once they decide to put their lack of trust on hold and give lucy maclean a single chance at accompanying them cross the wastelands, an offer of safe travel, because anyone who's anyone knows that vault dwellers don't survive for long up here and the small part of kindness left feels the need to help.

contains: usual fallout shenanigans, violence, character deaths, gore, cannibalism, reader kills a bird and eats it, slow burnish, strangers to friends to lovers, lucy has to stitch reader up with a metal bed spring, reader is beat up and lucy rescues them, kissing, mild language, dead dad mentions, also kinda long ngl, they also think that cooper howard is dead since he was an actor

With a mouthful of blood you grinned, teeth clenched in seething anger as you crawled towards the discarded yet worn down backpack a few feet away. The golden grains of sand turned red with each movement, wavering rains of hot red blood pouring out of your side as you reached out with trembling fingers, barely getting them to curl in on the backpack, a weak grip as you dragged it over and winced with pain, trying to breathe through it.

A harsh kick to the fleshy wound in your side caused an agonising cry to leave you, leaving you stunned against the sand, gasping out breaths as the golden grains had begun to stick to your sweating face that was pressing into the ground weakly. "Where did you think you were going?" The mocking tone pierced your ears and there wasn't even a raised voice, everything was heightened, everything hurt, but he didn't care, he would kill you or leave you bleeding out and be off with your stuff, you'd regretted taking this shortcut, the townsfolk warned of the stories of those that took the shortcut route, but in your mind it meant that there was rarely anyone here, a lone path, there would be trouble but nothing that you couldn't handle.

"You know, no matter how much those townsfolks cry and babble their stories about the shortcut to hell, the select few always think they'll have a chance." The man states, a scoff of a laugh leaving him as he turned you onto your side and pressed his solid boot down with a look of boredom when you glared up at him. "There is always someone as stupid as you that passes through and thinks they'll be just fine." Your hands reached up, nails digging into his filthy hands that blocked the air from your lungs, "It's a shame you didn't stand down, fiends would've paid good money, maybe I'll just keep you for myself, I haven't eaten in days, always thought human meat was better than an animals."

This was it, one stupid mistake and you were going to end up murdered and turned into food, as if you were nothing at all. You're whole life ending because there'd been a part of you longing for rest, a simple shortcut, townsfolks warnings ignored, you would die and not a soul would know, there was nobody to know. You stop, giving in and closing your tired eyes, this was it, you're going to die here.

"Leave them alone!"

Your eyes opened warily, head tilting to the side to see a wave of blue blur your vision. A woman stood, a strange gun trained on your attacker who turned his attention to her and laughed wheezily, an unhinged look of humour within his features. "No fucking way! A vault dweller, we haven't had one of you pass through here in a while!" A rattle of a cough sounded from him, his attention being focused on the woman dressed in blue. The grip he had on your ratty coat was dropped and your head fell back into the sands causing a winded cough to leave you, an instead hand pressing into your side as you attempt to keep pressure on the already terrible wound.

"I'll bet you've got nice skin." The man guessed and his words made your own skin crawl as he took slow steps towards the vaultie who didn't stand down, keeping an easy hand on the trigger. "I'll eat like a king tonight, you vault dwellers are always easier to skin, I promise to kill you first, last time it wasn't the easiest job skinning a gal that's still alive." His knife drew and just as he lunged at the vault dweller, she pulled the trigger, and a needle is planted right in his chest and leaves him stumbling for the few seconds he had and then he was collapsing to the sand beside you, eyes shut and unmoving. You grit your teeth together, forcing back the pain as the vault dweller approaches you cautiously. "Are you alright?" Vaultie asks with concern and a breathy laugh passes through you at the question. "Now that is a question I think you already know the answer to, Vaultie."

The vault dweller immediately shakes her head at this, as if realising her question to be a stupid one, "Sorry, here, I have a stim pack, I can help you." The woman was quick, shrugging her pack off and rummaging through it with a nervous laugh, "I'm Lucy, by the way, nice to meet you!" She greeted cheerfully and you stared at her, your brow drawing together dumbfounded at someone who kept a smile on her face despite the circumstances. The sharp needle was a familiar sight, you were used to seeing the injury pauser around but it didn't hurt any lesson when a wave of discomfort washed over you when Lucy pierced the needle into your wounded side. "You should start to feel a little better, I would offer to stitch you up but I was in a bit of a rush when I left home." You made a noise of acknowledgement, "First time on the surface, huh?" The vault dweller nodded at this, almost proud.

"I got something in my bag that'll take care of this." You stated, gesturing to the backpack nearby and Lucy has quickly grabbed it, glancing from you to the bag, "Is it a needle and thread?" She asks and you shake your head, "Not exactly, give it here." She hands you the bag with a gentle hand, helping you sit up and smiles at you when you give her a nod as thanks. Turning the backpack up, you let your contents stumble out into the sand, Lucy's smile fading in confusion as you pick apart the items, a lot of it looked to be junk, old scraps, gun parts, a box of empty bullets, a faded photograph, a canister that she'd assumed held water. A twirled piece of metal is held up, gripped in your hand, it looked clean, the cleanest thing amongst your odd supplies. Pouring some contents out of the canister, you turn to the vault dweller and hold it out to her, and that's when she finally sees what it is, an old spring, something that didn't have much use in her home, usually found in beds or furniture, this looked to be similar to the ones she would see on the trampolines when attending her gymnastics club.

She had a feeling of what you were going to ask when it was being held out for her to take, "Is this safe, I mean, I did take some time to brush up on health and safety for my journey but I don't even know if this can be used for stitching up something like that." You blankly stare, and force it into her hand harshly, "Look it's a spring, I got it for five caps, all you have to do is twist it around until it closes my skin up, simple as that." Lucy looks unsure at your words so you sigh at her, "If you don't do this, I'm gonna die out here."

As if giving in to your words, Lucy sighs, glancing from the wound on your side to the spring in her hand, a nod of assurance to herself. "Okey Dokey."

You screamed until the pain made you pass out.

You awoke to a crackling fire and a dull ache in your side. Eyes blinking away sleep as you sat up cautiously, tired eyes instantly flickered to the vault dweller, Lucy, holding her hands towards the flame to claim some warmth. The fiend was lying still, you assumed he was dead but it was obvious he wasn't considering he was tied to a rusted car nearby, twitching in his slumber. You would deal with him soon, your attention focusing back to Lucy who noticed you had finally awoken again. "How are you feeling? I was starting to get a little worried, thought you'd never wake up if I'm being honest..." She trailed off, watching as you'd lifted your soaked shirt, the white fabric stained red, you hummed at the sight of the spring, curled around tightly and keeping your flesh closed over for now. "Surprised, I was able to go through with that, I've never actually had to stitch anyone else up before other than myself, ruined a perfectly good wedding dress." She laughed quietly to herself and you tilted your head curiously, "Never would have thought I'd meet a Bridezilla, folks up here haven't given two shits about marriage, not for a long time." The vaultie looked confused, "Bridezilla?" You dismissed her when you realised she hadn't gotten the reference, "It's nothing, forget about it."

Pushing the fabric back down, you turned back to Lucy with an unsure stare, her kindness unsettled you a little, but you could tell it was genuine. "You shouldn't light a fire after dark, specially round these parts." You tell her, and she meets your gaze curiously, "Why, what's wrong with lighting a fire? We need some sort of light source." You stood up shakily, wincing at the pain in your side as you began picking at the guns from earlier, screwing on an unusual tool Lucy hadn't seen before, to you it was a silencer and you aimed it just behind her and fired, the sound of squelching flesh and a high shriek made Lucy flinch and turn, watching as you walked past her, your face curled when the slimey creature twitched beneath your hands, it's hard shell shattered as you carried it to the fire and dropped it in the flames, it's shrieks dying to a stop as Lucy stood up and took a step back. "What is that?" She questioned with a look of horror and you are quick to place your gun inside your inner coat pocket, a simple shrug as you gestured to it, "That's one of many things attracted to a fire at night, we're lucky that this is all that seems to be out here so far." Lucy adjusted her bag on her shoulders, "You mean more of those grossly large roaches could sneak up on us?" You shook your head, "There's far worse things than roaches out here." You told her and her gaze lowered to the fire as if she'd understood what you meant.

Soon after the crackling flames were stomped out.

You had wanted to part ways with the vault dweller but it wasn't as easy as you thought it would be. Even after you shot the man dead who had injured you, she stayed, even when you threatened her with death, she followed, you'd never actually kill her, she saved you after all. You hated it when you packed your bag in the morning and realised it, she thought that stitching you up gave her a travel buddy in the wastelands, someone who knew what to do when she didn't, someone to learn from.

And despite it all, you just couldn't say no, you'd rejected people for less, you didn't have travel companions, you'd never stayed in a place long enough to call it home or be considered anyone's friend. Lucy MacLean was different, in a way, you felt a sense of trust, not fully but enough to let her linger, just for a little while.

She was kind, a good soul, she looked like something out of the movies, the pretty smile, the doe eyes, clean hair, a wave of confidence. She wouldn't last out here alone and the part of you with a conscience would have felt bad so you let her travel with you, the deal being you'd part ways when you reached the next available town where you had not stolen from someone or conned another, anything to get by, you're surprised at your restraint in not just being an asshole and shooting the girl and stealing her shit, it's something you'd done in the past when desperate but a part of you didn't let you. She had saved you and that is what repeated each time a selfish thought occurred, she could have left you to rot but she didn't.

While the company was strange, you were aware of it an awful lot, Lucy had a lot of questions about the world, an awful lot of questions indeed. She asked about why you'd rather be alone than have company, she asked for a name and you gave it to her, she asked about the bombs, she'd asked about things as random as what your levels were when it came to radiation, asked why you had all of the junk you did in your bag, why you preferred travelling at night. She seemed to be quite the chatterbox and though you often preferred the silence, you answered her as best as you could, but you didn't have all the answers that she desired, especially the one that she wished you did.

She was looking for her father, you told her she was lucky that she still had one, she apologised for your loss, you'd dismissed it, your dad died a long time ago and you tried to avoid that topic, of course someone like Lucy opened up a part of you to vulnerability and you had let her, you were letting your guard down when you needed it to be held up high and safe.

There was something so safe about her and you didn't like it, maybe because safety was never something you'd ever thought of on your travels. Safe was new, safe was scary and you wanted to scrub it away, that feeling she gave you, but you couldn't do that if she's still here, you would part ways and it would leave you, you only hoped parting ways and leaving her alone wouldn't kill her, you knew vault dwellers didn't last. Good people always died in a world like this, you knew that better than anyone, if your father was alive he would be ashamed of the things you've done, who you've become. He died screaming at you to run, his bottles of liquid gold ran dry and you had blown his brains out while he cowered in a corner, trying to stay himself, muttering his name over and over until a bullet pierced his brain and mercy ended his life.

Safe got people killed, your dad felt safe when he had his medicine on hand, it stopped him losing himself until he eventually did. You saw it happen, the resistance to it, as guttural cries and growls mushed together, it scared you, it strengthened you, it hurt you, but it also made you the person you are now, alone and forgotten.

Lucy was talking to a bird, its wing bent oddly, she had a look in her eyes that she wanted to help it, she ran a hand down the dark feathers and this was your chance to push her further away, make her despise you, make her know a good person wasn't hiding within you. You stuck a sharp blade through its head, ending its life in front of her, she'd stared at you in horror with those big wide eyes and you merely looked away coldly, stripping away at its feathers and cutting it open with little care, you could see that she was upset, angry at you, she wanted to save the bird and you had ended it's life instead, turning it into food, she'd sat away from you when you lit a fire, twirling the carcass above the flame and letting it singe so you knew that not a part of it was raw.

Lucy didn't eat that night, choosing to go to bed hungry rather than have a scrap of what you had eaten, she was starting to understand it, you weren't a kind sole, you're just as bad, you hoped that was what she was thinking, hoped that when you drifted off that she'd leave, realise who she's travelling with isn't good, isn't safe, you hope that she leaves and lets you wake up alone.

When you awoke, she was still there. She was sat staring at her surroundings and had greeted you with the words of good morning and then smiled, offering you a drink of her water, claiming you had to stay hydrated if you want your wound to heal nicely. You felt like asking why she'd stayed, but you didn't, you remained quiet and gulped a gallon of water down your throat and started your walk for the day and she followed you.

That was five days ago and still she stayed with you no matter what you did to try and get rid of her.

By now, you had made it to a town and shoved a few of your caps to some old man renting rooms, Lucy decided a room shared would be fewer caps and you agreed with that, she also insisted it would be safer if you shared and you agreed to that also, which resulted in you lying on an old, worn down bed, Lucy lying on the one next to yours, and for once she was quiet. You wanted to ask her if she was alright, reach out to her, but you didn't want Lucy to think you cared, so you stayed quiet too, at some point, you knew she'd open up anyway, she had basically told a whole life's story to you over the week, varying from her wedding day ending in disaster because she was almost murdered by her new husband to her dad being taken to this, maybe she told you because you listened and didn't offer any comfort or apologies, or maybe she wanted to gain a friend out of you.

"I don't think I'll find my dad." She muttered out quietly, a strain in her voice as if she was holding back tears, "I feel like the people that took him probably killed him." When a sniffle could be heard from her side of the room, you sat up carefully and parted your lips to speak, unsure of how to handle her delicate feelings. You thought back to your own father, how it felt when he had died, how you felt, it left this wave of emptiness in you, like a part of you was ripped away from you. You wondered if that's what she'd been feeling since he was stolen from her.

You began by clearing your throat, "If they wanted to kill your dad, surely they would've killed him when they were attacking your home." You suggested and Lucy blinked at this, her eyes looked tired for the first time you'd seen her and it made you feel disheartened. "I'm sorry, Lucy." That made her turn to face you, smiling slightly but it wasn't a smile you were used to, it was a sad one. "No, you aren't." She replied before turning over, her back facing you and you frowned, you had expected her to say something like it's not your fault or there's nothing to be sorry for and in that moment you knew Lucy MacLean could read you as if you were an open book, she knew that you only said it to make her feel better, to try and get her to snap out her saddened feelings and change the subject, to ask some stupid questions like she usually does or to count out the rations she had left. She was challenging you, she knew you had something else you wanted to say, something she needed to hear but knew you would never discuss, a frown crossed your brow and you swallowed down your own overwhelming feeling of tears and took a breath, an unsure gaze fixated on Lucy before you spoke up with a tremble in your voice.

"Your dad isn't dead, Lucy." You began, "If he was dead, I don't think you'd still be out here, you'd be back home in your vault grieving." Lucy turned to face you once more, interested in what you had to say, "If he was dead then I think you'd know it, that part of you would feel lost, like someone ripped a part of your soul out." The MacLean is slow to sit up, "How would you know what that felt like?" She asks softly and you could see she'd already guessed, she was just waiting for you to open up for once instead of her. "It happened to me, two years after I was born, my old man got stuck for three days in a bad radiation zone, by the time I turned six his nose had disinterested and his skin looked like it was falling off." Lucy frowned at this yet stayed quiet, letting you continue, "When I was eleven he ran out of meds, we lived in the middle of nowhere so we would never get him that shit in time and I think he knew that it was time for him to go, he couldn't afford it and he gave up, told me to blow his brains out if he went crazy." You stopped and Lucy sat forward slightly, "I shot him in the face." You met her gaze, "The sickest thing about it is the next day, Davey, the guy who was dealing his meds, he showed up with a full box and I took it off him cause he said it was on the house." You laughed at this, it was a cruel thing that occurred but it made you laugh bitterly, "I took meds that stopped ghouls going feral and shoved it down my dead daddy's throat as if that would do shit. All those little vials could've gone to the ones who needed it and I kept them for him because I thought they'd end up bringing his ass back from the dead."

Slowing your rattly laugh, you lock eyes with Lucy, "While ghouls may be able to survive a lot of shit, getting blasted in the face isn't exactly on that list, I learned that the hard way." Lucy frowned at your words and made her way over to you, her arms reached out, embracing you and you fell still, realising that what you were being given was a hug, a thing you hadn't received in a long time. At first, you kept still, arms hanging as she hugged you and then slowly, an arm raised and wrapped around her then your other arm, you didn't even notice you'd closed your eyes, finding an instant comfort within Lucy Maclean, safety.

It made you wonder if this is what having a friend felt like.

You lasted in that rented room another week before caps ran low and you decided to leave, Lucy following after of course, she had acclaimed a drawn map from some lady on a stall, telling her of some places she might find Hank Maclean, her father. Not trusting someone with a rotten grin, you had taken the map from Lucy and scored out a few of the destinations, cannibals, raiders, thieves, all of the places were bad, you had stumbled across a few on your journey to nowhere.

Luckily, spending a week in that room gave you time to check over your wound, unscrewing the spring so that a proper sewing up could be done since Lucy had tracked down a needle and thread. She had told you of how she had been stabbed on her wedding day, her husband was a raider disguised as another vaultie and she'd ended up stapling her wound shut, something you felt squeamish at the thought of. Another thing that surprised you was how neatly she'd sewn you up, a perfect stitch and not a sign of infection. She was way smarter than what you'd first thought of her, you thought her to be naive but she could handle herself just fine, she could throw a punch if she had to, she knew how to use that gun of hers despite claiming she wasn't very good. It made you want Lucy to stick around a little longer but you knew as soon as she'd found her dad, she would be back in that vault and you'd be alone again, left to wander the lonely world.

You didn't know Lucy had other ideas, the way she spoke about her home, the way her eyes lit up talking about her family, her life, but you could see she craved adventure in it which is perhaps why she was so eager to follow you to whatever destination was next.

You didn't have a set destination, just away, forward, an old bed and shitty food, somewhere to sleep, that is the only thing you wanted, always looking for the next place, you didn't get attached much to those types of things, it was all the same everywhere. Lucy, on the other hand, is convinced that it's all great, a little scary but great, she'd had a look of curiosity whenever you landed some place new or had some story to tell, she always listened with a look of interest, eager to know everything that she sadly missed in the world. She asked so many questions and a part of you had grown fond of her daily dialogues, it was growing into a sort of routine.

"We're friends, right?" She asked, her gaze travelling over to where you walked beside her, you turn to her with this unsure look for a moment and then nod, "I guess..." Is the first thing you utter out, "Why do you ask?" Lucy smiled at the confirmation and kept her eyes on you, "After I've found my dad, would you wanna live with me?" You halt, stopping in your tracks, "You mean in your vault?" Lucy's quick to nod and you scoff out a laugh and begin to walk again, "No." She frowns and hurries after you, "Why? It's not like you've got places to be." You pull a face and stare ahead of you, "Oh, I've got places to be, just not in some underground cage." Lucy scoffs at this, "It isn't a cage, it's my home, would you at least consider it?" You shake your head again and walk faster trying to end the discussion at last, "No, now stop asking." Lucy pouts at your tone, then immediately follows up on your refusal, "Why not? Could you at least give me a real explanation as to why?" You'd stopped walking once more, turning to face her with this wary look in your eyes, "I've heard the stories about what went down in those vaults, there's a reason that a bunch of them are now empty." You begin to walk again, but her hand grasps your arm gently and you can see the look of confusion on her face, "What do you mean empty?"

You sigh at her question but her clueless expression had you answering her anyway, "A lot of those vaults were all only made as some fucked up experiment, I had a really old ancestor or whatever it's called, they were living in a vault and when shit went bad down there it went bad, it isn't you're fault, but from the stories I've heard I'd rather take my chances up here on the surface." You explain to her, glancing at the map when you saw her frown deepen at your explanation, "At least up here you got plenty of places you can run and hide, down in a vault, well... you wouldn't stand a chance."

Lucy frowned when you decided to keep walking, instant thoughts swimming in her head at your words, vault 33 is safe, isn't it?

After three weeks, you had given up hope that Lucy was ever going to find her dad. The only information that she had found was that the woman who took him was called Moldaver and everyone knew who she was but nobody actually knew where she was. It was an irritating thing, a majority of the puzzle solved but the single piece to add to it was missing and you and Lucy were growing tired of the dead ends and false leads.

You were in some shed for the night, a small lantern was being used as light, usually as soon as nightfall hit both of you, Lucy would sleep soundly but not tonight, she had a troubled expression and stayed awake with you, looking through an old box from the before when she gasped at something she'd found, "Oh, my Gosh!" She exclaimed in excitement and you turned to her with curiosity, "What's that?" You asked and she turned it to you with a grin, "I can't believe this survived after all these years!" She was quick to shuffle closer to you, handing you a worn down holotape, "Do you know who this is?" She asks and you peer at the cover under the light before nodding, "Yeah, he's some old actor from before, used to be known for those cowboy movies, my dad loved the movie with the dog." You admitted and Lucy grinned at this, "My dad is this guy's biggest fan, he has almost all the movies, we usually watch one of these during movie nights." With a hum of acknowledgement you glance back at the box in front of you, "What's his name again?" Lucy thinks about it for a moment before answering, "Cooper Howard." At the mention of his name, you raise your canister, "Well, I am about 200 years too late but rest in peace, Coop." A humoured laugh left Lucy as she raised her own bottle of water, clinking it against your own, "Rest in peace, wish my dad could've met you, he's a huge fan of your movies, even the cheesy ones." You scoff out a laugh, your nose is quick to burn when the water travels down your throat at a faster pace.

Lucy pretty laugh made you glance at her with a look of softness about you, the way her eyes crinkled when she's smiling, how her whole body moved when she laughed, it made you smile at her for the first time and when she had finally calmed her laughter down she turned to face you, a smile of her own when she realised you were looking at her without a facade. "You're pretty when you smile," She admits quietly and when your smile parts, she thinks she may have offended you and immediately backtracks, "I'm not saying you're only pretty when you smile, you're not, you're pretty all the time actually -"

Her ramblings are cut off when your lips press against her own, at first she froze at your move and then you felt her smile against you, bringing her hand up to your face with such softness that you almost didn't realise it was there, a part of you wanted more but another part needed to stop and make sure she wanted you in the same way you want her and so you broke your lips apart from hers and met a flushed face in front of you. "Is that offer still open?" Was your first question, "To come live with you in your vault?" Lucy immediately grinned and kissed you strongly before breaking apart, "Yes, of course it is!" She laughed out and you smiled back at her softly. "Well I'm thinking that we'd better be on our way to the next town, don't wanna move in without your dad's approval, right?"

Lucy stood up, a smile crossing her features at your tone, the hint of playfulness making her grab your hand tightly and open the door to outside.

"Let's go rescue your dad, Vaultie."

#fallout tv series #fallout tv show #fallout #lucy maclean #lucy maclean x reader #lucy maclean x you #lucy maclean x y/n #first time writing for her so bare with me #lucy maclean fanfic

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crienselt · 3 months

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So a few days ago I saw someone (elsewhere) questioning Zutara fans’ excitement about the scarf scene. It wasn't a mean comment, more general curiosity. And well, I didn't have time to get my thoughts out then. But they haven't gone away, so I'm getting them out here:

Here’s what everyone need to understand about Zutara shippers. We were baited baaaad during the initial run of the show–from the magazines to the shorts to the trailers and how they were cut. And Zuko and Katara’s relationship on the show certainly underwent a lot of development and featured objectively emotional–if not overtly romantic–moments between the two. We were well fed, and we had reason to hope. Right up to the end, we had reason to hope.

The shipping wars were the shipping wars, of course, with all the usual tensions; there are always going to be overzealous fans of each (and any) pairing willing to get toxic. Generally, I think Kataang fans were always jealous of Zutara’s popularity and Zutara fans, post finale, were jealous of Kataang’s, well, canon status. But really it operated much the same as any other large fandom’s shipping wars.

And then came Bryke and the panel where they showed and mocked Zutara fan art, some of which had been created by teens if not straight up children. Then came their, “Come on, kids! It was never going to work. Zutara is just dark and intriguing.”* And the pièce de résistance, their telling Zutara shippers (specifically girls/women) that they were doomed to have failed romantic relationships. Like, what? The thing with the art was arguably cruel, and the rest of it was oh, so condescending. Just all around not well done.

The after effect was that Zutara went from being simply a fanon pairing to a wrong pairing. The ATLA fandom at large became a far more hostile place for Zutara fans, who were now more commonly deemed delusional and viewed as lesser fans. The vitriol only got worse when the show came to Netfilx and the next wave of antis rolled up with their co-opting of legitimate socio-political terms to paint Zutara not just as wrong but morally corrupt if not evil. It’s all very puritanical.**

So Zutara fans need to be reminded that we weren’t delusional, and we aren’t alone. It’s why it means so much to know that Dante Basco and Mae Whitman shipped their characters. And that so many other VAs came out as Zutara supporters too: Jack De Sena, Michaela Jill Murphy, Grey DeLisle, Janet Varney--even the cabbage man. For it to be revealed that it was discussed in the writers room; that the writers fought over it; that it WAS a canon possibility. (And that writers Joshua Hamilton and John O’Bryan are perfectly comfortable admitting their preference for Zutara.) To know that the Elizabeth Welch Ehasz described Zuko and Katara as an “Avatar-style Mr. and Mrs. Smith,” in the script for The Southern Raiders, and used the phrase “Zutara-feuling synchronicity and cooperation” to describe their action sequences. To see Giancarlo Volpe, a Kataanger, admit Zutara might been the better pairing in retrospect and choose a quiet scene between them (to see their “chemistry”) as what he’d most look forward to in the live action adaptation. It’s why we cling to the artwork done by Korean animation director. We aren’t delusional. We aren’t alone.

But try telling that to the general fandom, right? Most are ignorant of a lot of this, particularly Hamilton and O’Bryan’s revelations re: the writers room. A lot of Zutara fans don't even seem to know. But being baited by Netflix on their official accounts? Oh, people see that. And we are reminded in a big way that we aren't delusional and we aren't alone. And everyone else has to remember it too.

So, of course, we're having fun clowning over the scarf scene. And I think most Zutara fans know we are clowning. I don't think most expect to get canon Zutara in live action because of one little scene or the fact that their Netflix icons are facing each other. (I headcanon that that was totally the doing of Zutara shipper on staff, though, lol. Because there are a lot of us, and we are everywhere.)

And this is okay. Zutara has been doing just fine as a fanon ship. Meanwhile, NATLA might actually do Kataang justice. It always worked better as a future ship. (Really all the pairings do. But I especially don't ever need to see another 12 year old kissing let alone making out, in animation or live action, ever again.) There's a reason Padme and Anakin don't get together in Phantom Menace, after all. Also, there's always the chance they could give us Dante's or Mae's headcanon of them basically suppressing their feelings and choosing duty over love/right person-wrong time. And the odds of getting some more moments to clown over are high enough.

Anyway, TLDR: Zutara has been made to feel like an out-of-nowhere crack ship and the live action crumbs remind us that it is not. And this is at least partially why we are enjoying it. (Because, also, it's just fun!)

*Side tangent: I’ve never gotten this dark and intriguing comment. Even during Season 1, the height of the capture fic era, Zutara was always a ship fundamentally about hope, predicated on Zuko's redemption. (Back in the day, there were also plenty of antis arguing that there was no way Zuko would ever be one of the gaang.) And they say “intriguing” like it’s a bad thing? Are we not supposed to be interested in the relationships of their characters???

**There have been some very good think pieces written lately on late stage capitalism and consumption as morality. Worth googling.

#Zutara #atla #natla

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wutheringmights · 2 months

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After I finished reading The Epic of Gilgamesh today, I entered a fugue state where I sat down and read the entirety of Alanna: The First Adventure by Tamora Pierce.

On the record, I have had a lifelong love and adoration for Pierce's Tortall books. I first read the Song of the Lioness quartet when I was 11, and they rewrote my brain. I love them so much. I reread them and the other Tortall books on a semi-frequent schedule.

It's been a while since I reread any of the Alanna books, if only because my sister took our shared copies when she moved out. I've been meaning to buy my own set for a long while now but haven't been able to justify the purchase. The other week, I just so happened to find the first two volumes at my local indie bookstore. I bought them immediately, as well as ordered the third and fourth book. (And discovered that the store owner knows me by name-- when I went to pick up my order, she saw me and said, Hi Frankie! I got your books over here.) (I may be spending too much money there.)

So I have been in a bit of an emotional rut these past few weeks. Work sucks. Life stinks. The temptation to run off to Tortall and curl up in the fantasy story that captivated me as a kid has never been stronger.

Ergo, I ran off to read the first book as soon as I could.

If you're looking for any critique of this book, series, or Tortall in general, I will never give it. Sure, it's problematic and dated, and in many ways imperfect, but someone else can list out all of its issues. They're all perfect to me.

Anyway, the book. I should say something about this book in particular.

One thing I appreciate about Pierce's writing is how she handles school settings in fantasy. Learning and training is so mundane. All of her heroines have to work hard and put in extra hours of study in order to improve, much less keep up with their peers. It's so normal that it circles around to being weirdly refreshing.

Also, there is still no other fantasy author who handles period talk and birth control the way Pierce does. We make fun of the trope of fantasy birth control nowadays, but I rarely see it presented as it is here: as a part of normal puberty lessons and given long before sex is in the girl's radar. And even today with the glut of YA fantasy stories out there, I still have yet to see menstruation be portrayed as frequently or as bluntly as Pierce writes it.

There was a period of time publishers really tried to push the Tortall books as straight YA, which doesn't work for that reason alone. You gotta market them to middle schoolers. They're the ones just starting puberty talks, and getting scenes like this is so good for their brains.

Moving on: I fucking love these characters. Alanna was an icon of brash, temperamental heroines that have shaped my taste to this day. I love how even in the first book, Jon is kinda shitty. I adore George Cooper. Talk about a taste maker the way this man sets a standard.

I just can't be coherent when it comes to any Tortall books. I have no thoughts. Head empty. I am going to binge the rest of this series as quickly as I can before my library book comes in. Then normal book content will resume.

Before I go, I need to talk about the book covers.

Growing up, my sister and I had these covers:

Which, god. I love them. The black is striking. The art is incredible. Alanna looks so good. They were the perfect pocket-size too. I was going to buy the same edition for my copies, but instead I got the 40th anniversary reprints:

Not bad at all! These books have had some seriously bad covers, and these look great! Very anime, which will appeal to the 11 year olds who need to have their socks rocked by this series.

But, man. I really miss those black covers. One day I will splurge and buy a second set of them just so that I can stare at the art.

#having a not normal time on tumblr dot come right now #alanna my beloved #if you were a deity i would worship you #me rambling #me reading #bookish #books and reading #books #bookblr #Alanna: the first adventure #the song of the lioness #tortall #tamora pierce

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aaroleswapau · 5 months

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Do you have any swap!franziska art? Wanna see more of her design

i unfortunately don't have any polished art of her bc i think when i drew this, my swap au hyperfixation was starting to wane, whoops! these are just some very quick sketches of what i wanted her new thing in the swap au to be.

(i will be putting old art of her old design if you want to see it under read more pftt [unfortunately not a lot of them bc i wasn't vibing with the old role i gave her so i wasn't drawing her a lot 😔])

oki doks, now time for a lore dump!!!!! (copy-pasting what i wrote on the bird app a long time ago):

ok, so the thing is, i gave a bit of redd white's role to mvk. my reasoning for that is since he's the one who killed gregory (who has mia's role), he'd have to take on that role too. when characters don't have any like, "exact" foils for their roles to be swapped with, i either make them stay the same or hobble some roles together. mvk's case was the latter.

so mvk runs a private eye that's connected to the prosecutor's office (he's corrupt bc have you seen that guy) and franziska happens to be working there.

mvk also happens to be one the people responsible for covering up the details about mia's death.

i wanted to change franziska's job from my first version of her bc she doesn't really have a connection to the supernatural, so i just gave her a job that works closely in the covering crimes too.

but yeah, fran has to meet gregory, and then she gets framed by redd white

and she's furious about it, of course! that fool works under her father, how dare he put the blame on her!

with how fran is supposedly cooperating with gregory, i think mvk would've really wanted her to catch the fall even with how much he cares about his daughter. he's an 'end justifies the means' kind of guy.

i don't think fran realizes until swap!jfa that it was her father who purposely tried to frame her and the one who ordered to kill gregory.

i think she'd feel really torn by that and the guilt with how miles defended her before knowing all that would've ate her up (the fact that gregory is dead, no spirit channeling or anything makes this more fucked up for them i think agfhhjh)

however, i still haven't figured out why franziska would agree to talk to gregory if he's investigating mia's death, and i'm not quite sure why gregory would've been investigating mia's death in the first place bc unlike mia in the regular verse, he'd have no connections to her case at least

(that would probably require some aai duology knowledge that i do not have right now ASKSKS)

my brain isn't fully working right now so i can't fully ramble on about her design, but i did think it was important to make her dress eccentric; and i know that everyone dresses eccentric in aa, but particularly that one point in turnabout sisters where april may should've remembered maya bc she dressed weird? i wanted the same for franziska ASKSKS roast her old-timey gothic looking ass!!!!!

and from my recent drawing of her, i think if i were to draw like, a polished ref for her, i would like to show the fact that her make-up is severe. again, 'eccentric' or whatever pftt

i originally had her be like a witch, some sort of seer who could communicate with the dead through her crystal ball. scrapped that and changed it bc it was just not digging my dudes asdghd a shame tho bc i'm rather fond of her big-ass veil witch hat thingy

#ace attorney #den's aa roleswap au #franziska von karma #aa swap au asks #aa swap au art

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horeformilfs · 5 months

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Dove

Mother Miranda x Fem! Maid Reader

TW: Bleeding, Injuries, Near Death, Major Character Death, Grief, Mentions of Torture, Negative Self Talk

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The grand hall of Castle Dimitrescu echoed with the authoritative voice of Lady Dimitrescu as she addressed her staff, the loyal maids who tended to the sprawling estate. Y/n, a reserved maid with a silent efficiency, stood among them, her gaze lowered as she listened intently.

"In three days, Mother Miranda will grace us with her presence for dinner. I expect nothing less than perfection from all of you. The castle must be impeccable, and any deviation from that will have severe consequences," Lady Dimitrescu announced, her piercing eyes scanning the assembly.

Bela, one of Lady Dimitrescu's daughters, stood by her side, her elegant poise matching her mother's. As the instructions continued, Lady Dimitrescu's eyes eventually landed on Y/n. A subtle nod from the imposing lady signaled Y/n's assignment for the evening.

"Y/n," Lady Dimitrescu's voice commanded attention. "You will be in charge of the kitchen and dining hall during the dinner. After serving the family, you will move to the sitting room to attend to us and Mother Miranda directly."

A murmur of disapproval rippled through the assembly, particularly from the maid previously in charge of the kitchen. She spoke up, "Lady Dimitrescu, it's unfair to have someone else take over our responsibilities. We are perfectly capable of handling the dinner arrangements."

Bela, always quick to defend Y/n, stepped forward, her voice carrying a regal authority, "Mother has chosen Y/n for a reason. She has proven herself time and again with her dedication and efficiency. We trust her to handle this important evening."

Despite the objections, Lady Dimitrescu remained resolute. "Y/n has earned this responsibility. You will respect my decision. The success of this dinner is paramount, and I expect you all to cooperate. Dismissed."

As the other maids dispersed, casting judgmental glances towards Y/n, Bela lingered, offering a supportive smile.

The three days leading up to Mother Miranda's dinner were a flurry of activity within Castle Dimitrescu. Y/n, dedicated to her duties, found herself working late into the night, ensuring that every corner of the castle was spotless. The sisters, keenly observant, had noticed her tireless efforts and sensed the underlying nervousness in her demeanor.

It was in the quiet expanse of the library that the sisters finally caught up with Y/n. As she meticulously dusted off ancient tomes, her eyes betrayed a weariness that didn't go unnoticed.

"Daniela, Bela, look who we have here," Cassandra remarked with a sly smile as the trio approached Y/n.

"Y/n, darling, working so diligently as always," Daniela chimed in, her tone a mix of curiosity and concern.

Caught off guard, Y/n straightened up, offering a polite nod. "Good evening, ladies. Just finishing up some cleaning in the library before heading to the kitchen."

Bela, ever the empathetic one, studied Y/n's face and noted the paleness. "You've been burning the midnight oil, haven't you? Are you feeling alright, Y/n?"

A subtle sigh escaped Y/n's lips as she attempted to brush off their concern. "Oh, I'm fine, really. Just a bit tired. Nothing to worry about."

Cassandra leaned in, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Tired? You look like you've seen a ghost. Are you sure you're okay?"

Y/n chuckled nervously, "I appreciate your concern, but I assure you, I can handle it. Just a little pre-dinner jitters."

Bela, sensing there was more to the story, spoke with a gentleness that contradicted her vampiric nature. "Y/n, we care about you. You don't have to carry all this weight alone. If there's anything bothering you, you can tell us."

Daniela, with a playful grin, added, "After all, we wouldn't want our favorite maid collapsing from exhaustion. It would be terribly inconvenient."

Y/n couldn't help but smile at their genuine concern. "Thank you, really. It's just the pressure of the upcoming dinner. I'll make sure to rest after it's all over."

Cassandra, not easily convinced, poked Y/n's side. "Promise?"

Y/n chuckled, "I promise. Now, I should check on the kitchen. Lady Dimitrescu expects everything to be perfect tonight."

As Y/n left the library, the sisters exchanged glances, silently agreeing to keep a watchful eye on their favorite maid.

The kitchen buzzed with activity as Y/n meticulously checked the final preparations for Mother Miranda's dinner. The air was thick with tension, and Y/n couldn't help but overhear hushed whispers among the other maids. They spoke in low tones, casting furtive glances in her direction.

"She thinks she's so special, getting all the attention from Lady Dimitrescu."

"I heard she only got the key to the distillery because she's the favorite. It's not fair."

Y/n clenched her jaw, choosing to focus on her tasks rather than the gossip swirling around her. As she moved gracefully between counters, ensuring everything was in order, the whispers persisted.

Meanwhile, the entrance to the kitchen swung open, and the room fell silent. Lady Dimitrescu entered, her towering presence commanding respect and instilling fear in equal measure. The maids froze, their eyes lowered in submission.

Lady Dimitrescu's eyes scanned the room before settling on Y/n. "You, come here," she commanded, her voice cutting through the anxious silence.

Y/n approached with a mixture of apprehension and deference. Lady Dimitrescu handed her an ornate key, its design intricate and foreboding. "Take this. It's the key to the distillery."

Y/n accepted it, her curiosity evident. "May I ask why, Lady Dimitrescu?"

The imposing figure of the lady leaned in, her voice a low, confidential tone. "Mother Miranda prefers a particular vintage for tonight's dinner. I want you to fetch it from the distillery. It's crucial that the wine is exquisite."

Understanding the gravity of the task, Y/n nodded. "Of course, Lady Dimitrescu. I'll get it right away."

As Y/n turned to leave, she felt the weight of eyes on her back. The other maids, seizing the opportunity, exchanged subtle glances and sly smirks. They had overheard Lady Dimitrescu's request and saw a chance to undermine Y/n.

In their huddled whispers, they concocted a plan. "Let's lock her in the distillery. She'll be too busy down there, and we won't have to deal with her stealing the spotlight anymore."

Unaware of the brewing conspiracy, Y/n made her way to the distillery, the key in hand. Little did she know that the shadows in the corners of the kitchen concealed the treacherous intentions of her fellow maids.

The dimly lit corridor leading to the distillery echoed with the soft footsteps of Y/n, unaware of the silent trio trailing her. As she reached the entrance, ready to unlock the door and retrieve the requested wine, she turned to find the three maids standing behind her.

Y/n furrowed her brow in confusion. "Is there something you need?"

The maid who had been leading the whispers stepped forward, a sly grin playing on her lips as she swiftly snatched the ornate key from Y/n's hand. "We just thought you should take your time down there, finding the perfect bottles for tonight."

Y/n, taken aback, instinctively reached for the key. "What are you talking about? I have to get the wine for Lady Dimitrescu."

The other two maids exchanged glances, their expressions betraying malicious intent. The one holding the key smirked, taunting Y/n, "Oh, you'll have plenty of time. We're just helping you relax a bit."

Y/n's eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping in. "This isn't necessary. Give me the key, and I'll handle the task."

The maid, now holding the key just out of Y/n's reach, chuckled darkly. "We've decided you could use a break. Down you go."

Before Y/n could react, the other maid forcefully shoved her, sending her tumbling down the narrow staircase. As Y/n descended, the sharp edges of the stone stairs greeted her with a painful collision, her head connecting with an unforgiving surface.

A groan escaped Y/n's lips as she struggled to sit up, her vision blurred from the impact. She clutched her throbbing head, feeling the warm stickiness of blood. Disoriented and vulnerable, she looked up to see the three maids peering down at her from the top of the stairs.

"You'll thank us later for the rest, dear Y/n," one of them sneered, and with that, they abandoned her in the darkness of the distillery, the heavy door creaking shut, sealing her off from the world above.

Over an hour had passed since Y/n was locked in the distillery, and Lady Dimitrescu's patience wore thin. The grand dinner was moments away, and there was still no sign of her trusted maid. The frustration etched on her face, she demanded answers from the other maids.

"Where is Y/n? I specifically placed her in charge of the wine, and she's nowhere to be found!" Lady Dimitrescu's voice boomed, echoing through the hallways.

The other maids exchanged nervous glances, their feigned innocence failing to deceive the imposing lady. "We... we don't know, Lady Dimitrescu. She was supposed to fetch the wine, but she never returned," one stammered.

"What?!" Lady Dimitrescu's eyes flashed with anger. "You had one task. I will deal with you later. Give me those bottles."

The maids handed over the three bottles of wine they managed to retrieve, and Lady Dimitrescu, seething with frustration, appointed another maid to oversee the kitchen. With a curt nod, she left the chaos behind and headed to meet Mother Miranda, her irritation palpable.

As Lady Dimitrescu joined the gathering in the dining hall, Mother Miranda's arrival signaled the commencement of the grand dinner. The opulent table adorned with delicacies lay in stark contrast to the tension in the air. The daughters, however, couldn't help but notice Y/n's absence.

"Daniela, where is Y/n? She should be here," Bela whispered, concern evident in her voice.

Daniela exchanged a puzzled glance with Cassandra, then turned to Lady Dimitrescu. "Mother, where is Y/n? Why isn't she here for the dinner?"

Lady Dimitrescu, struggling to contain her frustration, replied curtly, "I have no idea. She was supposed to handle the wine, but she's nowhere to be found."

Mother Miranda, intrigued by the conversation, turned her attention to Alcina. "Who is this Y/n that they speak of, Lady Dimitrescu?"

Alcina, maintaining her composure, explained, "Y/n is one of our maids, Mother Miranda. She has served diligently for years, but it seems she has encountered an unexpected delay tonight."

Mother Miranda's eyes bore into Lady Dimitrescu. "A delay? Inconvenient. I hope it doesn't affect the course of our evening."

The dinner proceeded, the absence of Y/n lingering in the minds of those present.

Y/n, still nursing the pain in her head, carefully navigated the dimly lit passages of the distillery. The air was thick with the pungent scent of wine and blood, an eerie ambiance that heightened her anxiety. Determined to find an escape, she tiptoed through the labyrinthine corridors, eyes darting in search of any opening.

As she ventured deeper, a faint noise reached her ears. Something shuffling, a low growl, and the clinking of rusted swords. Y/n's heart quickened, and she instinctively sought cover behind a stack of crates, praying she would remain unseen.

Peering cautiously from her hiding spot, Y/n's eyes widened as she saw the Moroaicǎ, grotesque creatures with twisted forms and lethal weapons. Their eerie, guttural sounds filled the air as they patrolled the dark passages, seemingly unaware of her presence.

Suppressing a gasp, Y/n tried to regulate her breathing, her eyes wide with fear as one of the Moroaicǎ turned its head towards her direction. The creature's cold, lifeless gaze met hers, and Y/n's heart skipped a beat. Panic set in as the Moroaicǎ, alerted to her presence, began to move in her direction.

Frantically, Y/n scanned her surroundings for a more concealed hiding place. She darted from behind the crates, hoping to evade their attention. The Moroaicǎ, sensing her movement, closed in, their rusted swords dragging against the cold stone floor.

With a burst of adrenaline, Y/n managed to find a niche in the shadows, holding her breath as the Moroaicǎ approached the spot she had just vacated. Sweat formed on her brow as she waited, praying they would pass without discovering her presence. The dim light flickered above, casting eerie shadows that danced around her, intensifying the suspense of her precarious situation.

The dinner concluded, and the group retired to the opulent sitting room, the daughters casting occasional glances towards the empty space where Y/n should have been. Lady Dimitrescu, masking her concern, informed her daughters of Mother Miranda's extended stay.

"Mother Miranda will be staying with us for a few days. We must ensure everything is in order during her visit," Lady Dimitrescu announced, her daughters nodding in acknowledgement, though their thoughts lingered on the absent maid.

As the night wore on, the maids diligently completed their final duties, a subdued atmosphere prevailing in the absence of Y/n. Lady Dimitrescu, growing increasingly uneasy, couldn't shake off the worry that gnawed at her.

Bela, the ever-observant daughter, spoke up, "Mother, shouldn't we look for Y/n? It's unusual for her to be absent like this."

Lady Dimitrescu considered the suggestion, her brow furrowed. Before she could respond, Mother Miranda intervened, "Perhaps a search is in order. Alcina, it would be wise to find your missing maid. I'll assist you in the search."

Lady Dimitrescu nodded, a mix of gratitude and apprehension in her eyes. "Very well. Bela, Cassandra, Daniela, you will search the upper floors. I will handle the ground floor. We reconvene in one hour."

The daughters, understanding the urgency, nodded in unison and dispersed to their assigned areas. As Lady Dimitrescu descended the grand staircase, her mind raced with worry, wondering what could have befallen Y/n.

Meanwhile, Mother Miranda turned to Alcina. "Let's begin below. We'll search the distillery and the dungeons. Time is of the essence."

With a determined nod, Lady Dimitrescu and Mother Miranda parted ways, each with a mission to unravel the mystery of Y/n's disappearance. The grand castle, once filled with regality, now held an air of uncertainty as the search for the missing maid unfolded in its echoing halls.

Y/n, realizing that hiding was not a sustainable option, mustered the courage to resume her search for an escape route. As she cautiously navigated the dim passages, the oppressive air weighed heavily on her. The scent of blood and wine intermingled, creating a sickening atmosphere that fueled her desperation.

Her heart raced as she stumbled upon the Moroaicǎ again. Panic set in, and before she could react, the sharp swing of a sickle sliced through the air, cutting into her arm. Y/n cried out, clutching the bleeding wound. The Moroaicǎ, relentless in their pursuit, closed in.

In a frantic attempt to evade them, Y/n pressed on, but another Moroaicǎ swung a rusted sword, cutting across her back. The pain was searing, and Y/n staggered, tumbling into the pooled mixture of blood and wine that flooded the distillery floor.

With adrenaline coursing through her veins, Y/n forced herself to her feet, the red liquid staining her clothes. Determination fueled her movements as she spied what appeared to be a potential escape route. The Moroaicǎ, undeterred, closed in once more.

In a desperate bid for freedom, Y/n lunged toward the passage, but before she could reach it, a Moroaicǎ struck her in the stomach with a swift, brutal stab. Y/n crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath, her hands instinctively clutching the wound as blood seeped through her fingers.

The pain was excruciating, and the distillery floor now mirrored the horrors of a macabre canvas, blood and wine blending in a grotesque dance beneath her. In her weakened state, Y/n fought against the encroaching darkness, the world around her blurred as the Moroaicǎ retreated, leaving her battered and bleeding on the unforgiving ground.

The three daughters reconvened in the upper level of the castle, their expressions a mix of concern and frustration. Bela spoke up first, her voice betraying a hint of worry, "I didn't find Y/n. Did either of you have any luck?"

Cassandra and Daniela exchanged glances before shaking their heads. "No sign of her. It's as if she vanished," Daniela replied, her usual playful demeanor replaced by genuine concern.

As they were about to discuss their next course of action, Lady Dimitrescu ascended the staircase, her towering figure casting a shadow over the hallway. "Have any of you found Y/n?" she inquired, her voice laced with urgency.

Bela, meeting her mother's gaze, shook her head solemnly. "No, Mother. We searched everywhere, but there's no trace of her."

Lady Dimitrescu's expression tightened, worry evident in her eyes. "I couldn't find her either. This is highly unusual. Where could she be?"

Cassandra, ever pragmatic, spoke up, "Mother Miranda hasn't returned yet. Maybe she's having more luck. We should wait for her."

Nodding in agreement, Daniela added, "Yes, perhaps Mother Miranda has uncovered something in her search. We can't lose hope just yet."

The group decided to return to the sitting room, a heavy silence settling among them as they anxiously awaited news of Y/n's whereabouts. The grandeur of the room seemed to amplify the uncertainty that lingered in the air, each passing moment intensifying the worry etched on their faces.

Mother Miranda pressed on through the labyrinthine passages of the distillery, encountering Moroaicǎ along the way. Her powerful abilities easily overcame the grotesque creatures, allowing her to continue the search undeterred. The echo of her footsteps resonated through the eerie silence of the underground.

As she delved deeper, she stumbled upon a haunting scene—a lifeless body lying on the wet ground, surrounded by the unsettling mixture of blood and wine. Mother Miranda approached with a sense of gravitas, turning the woman on her back to reveal her pallid face. The pain etched across Y/n's features tugged at Miranda's usually stoic demeanor.

Kneeling beside the injured maid, Miranda attempted to rouse her. "Y/n, wake up. Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters have been worried about you."

Y/n's eyes fluttered open, the pain evident in her gaze. She offered a weak apology, but Miranda hushed her gently, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "Shh, my dear. You'll be okay. We'll get you out of here."

As Y/n succumbed to unconsciousness, Mother Miranda cradled her in her arms, a fleeting but profound feeling of completeness washing over her. With each step, she savored the weight of the maid in her embrace, a sensation as if a missing piece had been found. The dimly lit passages of the distillery bore witness to this peculiar connection between the two women.

Emerging from the depths below, Mother Miranda ascended the staircase with Y/n in her arms. The grandeur of Castle Dimitrescu's main floor starkly contrasted the eerie solitude of the distillery. The daughters and Lady Dimitrescu, anxiously waiting in the sitting room, were taken aback as Miranda, with a wave of her hand, effortlessly opened the door.

The shock on their faces deepened as Miranda entered, cradling the unconscious Y/n. Lady Dimitrescu, momentarily speechless, found her voice, "Mother Miranda, what happened?"

Miranda's gaze met Lady Dimitrescu's, and she spoke with a calm reassurance, "Y/n has sustained severe injuries, but I can help her. We need to tend to her immediately."

With Lady Dimitrescu leading the way, they entered a makeshift medical room within the castle. Miranda gently laid Y/n on a nearby table, the gravity of the situation evident in the concern etched on everyone's faces.

Miranda, assisted by Bela and Cassandra, began to tend to Y/n's wounds. Lady Dimitrescu, ever composed, attempted to console the tearful Daniela, whose worry manifested in quiet sobs. The atmosphere in the room was tense, a blend of relief and anxiety as the fate of the missing maid hung in the balance.

In the hushed stillness of the night, Y/n stirred from her uneasy slumber, pain coursing through her body. The dimly lit room danced with shadows, and a sense of disorientation enveloped her. As she struggled to make sense of her surroundings, a masked figure approached, causing a jolt of fear to shoot through her.

However, to her surprise, Miranda calmly reached up and removed her mask, revealing her piercing blue eyes and chiseled features. Y/n, caught off guard, took a moment to admire the unexpected sight before her.

Miranda, with a slight tease in her voice, remarked, "Dove, it seems you're quite captivated by my features."

Caught in her reverie, Y/n blushed, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

Miranda chuckled warmly, her husky voice resonating in the quiet room. "No need to apologize, my dear. It's quite adorable how you get lost in thought."

Y/n's blush deepened, and she stammered, "I didn't mean to stare. I just..."

Miranda interrupted with a gentle laugh, "You have nothing to apologize for. In fact, I find it quite endearing."

As Y/n tried to hide her embarrassment, Miranda's reassuring presence eased the tension in the room.

Y/n's mind raced, and the overwhelming realization of the events hit her like a tidal wave. Panic set in, and her breathing quickened, chest tightening with anxiety. Frantically, she tried to get up from the bed, but her legs gave out beneath her. In the moment of vulnerability, Miranda swiftly caught her, gently guiding her back onto the bed.

"Dove, you need to rest," Miranda urged, her voice calm but firm.

Y/n's words stumbled out, frantic and desperate, "I... I need to apologize to Lady Dimitrescu. She'll be furious. I messed everything up."

Miranda, recognizing the distress in Y/n's eyes, gently cupped her face, directing her gaze to meet hers. "Listen to me, dear. Alcina will understand. Your well-being is the priority right now. We will face this together."

Y/n, still struggling to calm her racing heart, insisted, "But she trusted me with the dinner, and I ruined it. She's going to hate me."

Miranda continued to soothe her, "Alcina won't hate you. She cares about you. We'll explain everything to her. Right now, you need to focus on resting and recovering. The rest can be dealt with in due time."

Miranda continued her efforts to soothe Y/n, recognizing the persistent anxiety that gripped her. "Dove, you need to try and get some sleep. Worrying won't change what happened, and you need your strength to recover."

Y/n's restless expression revealed the inner turmoil she was experiencing. "I'm just too anxious, Miranda. I can't stop thinking about how Lady Dimitrescu will react."

Understanding, Miranda decided to take a more hands-on approach. She made her way to the other side of the bed, gesturing for Y/n to scoot over. With a gentle touch, she laid down beside her.

Y/n's eyes followed Miranda's movements, curious and apprehensive. Miranda, careful not to cause additional pain, pulled Y/n into her, cradling her in a protective embrace. Y/n, feeling the warmth of Miranda's body, relaxed against her, breathing in the comforting scent of her warm amber perfume.

As Y/n laid her head on Miranda's chest, Miranda's hand stroked her hair in a soothing rhythm. The calming gesture gradually eased Y/n's tension, and she began to drift back into a more serene slumber.

In the quiet intimacy of the moment, Y/n couldn't help but voice her curiosity. "Why are you being so caring, Miranda? Everything I've heard from the other maids told me otherwise."

Miranda paused for a moment before answering, "I'm not entirely sure. There's something about seeing you hurt in the distillery that stirred a protective instinct in me. You deserve care and kindness, especially in moments of vulnerability."

Y/n's heart swelled at the sincerity of Miranda's words. Miranda gently kissed Y/n's head before covering them both with the comforter. The room fell into darkness as Miranda extinguished the single candle, the subtle scent of warm amber lingering in the air.

As Y/n settled into the comforting embrace, Miranda whispered softly, "Rest now, Dove. We'll face whatever comes together." The quiet reassurance echoed in the stillness of the room, offering solace to Y/n as sleep reclaimed its hold on her troubled mind.

Y/n stirred from her slumber, the morning light filtering through the window. Her gaze wandered around the room, eventually resting on Miranda, who was already awake and watching her. As their eyes met, Y/n blushed and quickly looked away, prompting a soft chuckle from Miranda.

Before either of them could say anything, a knock echoed through the room. Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters entered, their eyes taking in the unexpected scene. Cassandra, always one for teasing, couldn't resist making a playful comment, causing Y/n to bury her face in her hands in embarrassment.

Miranda, with a fond smile, gently helped Y/n sit up, mindful of her lingering pain. Lady Dimitrescu, her expression a mix of concern and relief, addressed Y/n, "You've been relieved of your duties until further notice. Your priority now is to focus on recovering."

Y/n, still flustered, stammered out, "I'm sorry, Lady Dimitrescu. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

Lady Dimitrescu's stern exterior softened, and she placed a reassuring hand on Y/n's shoulder. "It's alright, Y/n. Your well-being is what matters most. We'll address the situation in due time. For now, rest and recover."

Cassandra, with a mischievous grin, added, "Who would have thought our dear Y/n would end up in Mother Miranda's arms?"

Bela and Daniela exchanged amused glances, and Lady Dimitrescu, while maintaining her composure, couldn't suppress a small smile.

Miranda, after a moment of silent consideration, addressed Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters, "I would appreciate it if you could give us some privacy while I check on Y/n's injuries."

Lady Dimitrescu nodded, her daughters following suit. As they left the room, Miranda turned her attention back to Y/n. "Let me see how your injuries are healing," she said, her tone gentle.

Y/n complied, allowing Miranda to inspect the stitches and bruises. After a careful examination, Miranda offered a reassuring smile. "Everything seems to be healing well. Just be cautious of the stitches, and don't push yourself too hard."

As Miranda finished her assessment, Y/n hesitantly asked, "Do you think I could go for a walk in the courtyard? It might help me feel better."

Miranda considered the request before responding, "I wouldn't want you to go alone. But if you'd like, I can accompany you."

Y/n's face lit up with gratitude. "That would be wonderful, thank you."

Miranda helped Y/n to her feet, offering a supportive hand. They walked together toward the courtyard, Miranda's hand gently holding Y/n's. The castle's grandeur unfolded around them as they stepped into the open air of the courtyard. The quiet sounds of the castle grounds surrounded them, offering a peaceful backdrop to their walk.

As they strolled through the courtyard, Y/n couldn't help but express her appreciation, "Thank you, Miranda, for everything. I never expected you to be so caring."

Miranda, with a soft smile, replied, "Sometimes unexpected bonds are the strongest. I want to ensure you recover fully. You're important to this castle."

The courtyard stretched before them as they continued their leisurely walk, the soft sounds of their footsteps blending with the tranquil ambiance. Suddenly, Y/n stopped, a subtle wince crossing her features. Miranda, ever attentive, noticed the discomfort and immediately asked, "Are you okay, Y/n?"

Y/n, attempting to downplay the pain, forced a smile and replied, "I'm fine, really. Just a little twinge."

Miranda, unconvinced, studied Y/n's expression. "We can stop and rest if you need to. Your well-being is my priority."

Y/n, determined to continue, shook her head. "No, really, Miranda. I'm okay. Let's keep going."

Miranda hesitated, her concern evident, but she ultimately agreed, "If you're sure, but don't hesitate to let me know if you need a break."

As they continued their walk through the courtyard, the atmosphere shifted when Y/n suddenly stopped, her eyes widening with recognition. Miranda, noticing the change, questioned, "What's wrong, Y/n?"

Y/n's gaze fixated on a group of maids, the same ones who had locked her in the distillery. Memories of that traumatic incident flooded back, causing her to step back, seeking refuge closer to Miranda.

Miranda, sensing Y/n's distress, turned her back to the maids, cupping Y/n's face gently. "Tell me what's wrong," she urged.

The maids, surprised by Y/n's unexpected appearance, attempted to approach her, pretending as if nothing had happened. Y/n, however, instinctively moved away from them, drawing nearer to Miranda.

Miranda, maintaining her protective stance, turned around to face the maids. "What's going on here?" she questioned, her tone demanding answers.

The maids, caught off guard, nervously attempted to justify their actions, downplaying the severity of their actions. Y/n, her voice filled with a mixture of pain and frustration, told Miranda what they had done.

In response, Miranda positioned herself in front of Y/n, a shield against the maids. "You locked her in the distillery? Do you realize the danger you put her in?" Miranda's irritation was palpable.

The maids, seemingly unfazed, tried to dismiss the gravity of their actions, claiming it wasn't a big deal and that nobody would have noticed anyway. Miranda's expression hardened. "You could have killed her! Do you comprehend the consequences of your actions?"

Just then, Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters appeared, the maids visibly trembling at their presence. Lady Dimitrescu, with a stern expression, questioned, "What is going on here?"

Miranda wasted no time in revealing the maids' transgressions, explaining how they had locked Y/n in the distillery, putting her in grave danger. The air in the courtyard tensed as Lady Dimitrescu's gaze bore down on the guilty maids, the consequences of their actions becoming increasingly apparent.

Lady Dimitrescu's gaze bore into the group of maids, her towering figure casting a formidable shadow over them. She questioned them with a stern tone, "Explain yourselves."

The maids, now realizing the gravity of their actions, attempted feeble justifications, but Lady Dimitrescu cut through their excuses with a cold precision. "Enough of your excuses. You endangered one of my trusted maids, and for that, there will be consequences."

Cassandra, Bela, and Daniela, standing beside their mother, wore sadistic grins as they anticipated the impending punishment. Lady Dimitrescu's words carried the weight of authority as she declared, "You will be punished."

The daughters, eagerly awaiting their cue, exchanged glances, their excitement evident. Lady Dimitrescu, without uttering a word, nodded slightly, giving the signal for Cassandra, Bela, and Daniela to take charge.

The trio approached the maids with a sinister gleam in their eyes, ready to carry out the punishment ordered by their mother. Cassandra's grin widened as she spoke, "Oh, you're in for a treat."

Bela added, "The dungeon can be quite... enlightening."

Daniela, the youngest but no less enthusiastic, chimed in, "And we haven't had visitors in a while."

The maids, now fully aware of the severity of their actions, cast nervous glances at each other, realizing that the consequences under Lady Dimitrescu's rule were not to be taken lightly. The castle's cold corridors echoed with a mix of tension and anticipation as the daughters prepared to escort the guilty maids to the dreaded dungeon.

Miranda, ever attuned to Y/n's well-being, turned her attention to the shaken maid. "Are you okay, Y/n?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.

Y/n, still processing the recent events, seemed a bit spaced out. Miranda, gently cupping Y/n's face, attempted to bring her attention back to the present moment. "Y/n, focus on me. You're safe now. Breathe."

Lady Dimitrescu, towering beside them, also expressed her concern. "Y/n, are you alright?"

Y/n, with a hint of distress in her eyes, replied, "I never meant for any of this to happen. I didn't think they would go so far."

Lady Dimitrescu, her stern expression softening for a moment, reassured Y/n, "You are not at fault here. The maids will be punished severely for their actions. This was not your doing."

Y/n, still grappling with the aftermath of the confrontation, looked at Miranda and Lady Dimitrescu with a puzzled expression. "I don't understand why you're defending me. I'm just a maid, and my role is to serve the house without questioning anything, to never talk back or question the decisions of my superiors."

Miranda and Lady Dimitrescu exchanged glances, both confused by Y/n's perspective. Miranda spoke gently, "Y/n, it's normal for people to help each other, to care for one another. You don't have to bear everything on your own. We are here for you."

Lady Dimitrescu, realizing the depth of the situation, added, "What you've described is not a healthy way to live. It's okay to seek help, to question things. We're not just your superiors; we're also people who care about you."

Y/n hesitated, realizing the ingrained beliefs she had carried for so long. "I never thought about it that way. It's just the way things have always been for me."

Understanding the sensitivity of the conversation, Lady Dimitrescu turned to Miranda. "I'll give you two some time to talk. It seems like there's much for Y/n to process."

Miranda, sensing the need for a more intimate conversation, led Y/n to a quiet bench where they could sit together. Y/n, seeking comfort, rested her head on Miranda's shoulder, and Miranda gently took Y/n's hand in hers.

As they settled into a moment of shared vulnerability, Y/n began to explain, "I've always felt responsible for taking care of others. It's just how I've lived, and I never expected anyone to take care of me."

Miranda, with a soft smile, asked, "But who takes care of you, sweet girl, if you're always giving yourself to others?"

Y/n sighed, "No one, really. It's not anyone else's job to take care of me, and I shouldn't expect them to."

Miranda's expression softened further. "It's normal for people to care for others and, in return, receive care. You deserve that too, sweet girl." She wrapped her arm around Y/n, embracing her as they sat together on the bench.

They remained in that comforting silence for a while, Miranda providing a sense of security for Y/n. Eventually, Miranda spoke, "We'll work on this together, at your pace. It's okay to let people in and accept help. You don't have to carry everything on your own."

Y/n, feeling a mixture of vulnerability and gratitude, whispered, "Thank you, Miranda."

Miranda pressed a gentle kiss to Y/n's forehead and held her a little tighter, both of them acknowledging the journey ahead, one that would involve breaking down the walls Y/n had built around herself for so long.

Later that night, with Y/n peacefully sleeping, Miranda sat beside her, engrossed in a book. Alcina entered the room, requesting Miranda's presence for a talk. Miranda, kissing Y/n gently on the forehead, agreed before quietly leaving the room.

In the drawing room, Miranda and Alcina sat together. The sisters, sensing the serious atmosphere, joined them, ready for the conversation. Cassandra, with a sinister grin, started, "The maids' punishment has been taken care of."

Miranda, curious yet composed, questioned, "And how was it handled?"

Bela, her tone matter-of-fact, replied, "We tortured them before ending their lives."

Miranda, acknowledging the severity of the situation, simply nodded. "As long as it's been taken care of."

Daniela, changing the subject, asked with genuine concern, "How is Y/n? Is she alright?"

Miranda, a touch of warmth in her eyes, replied, "She's healing. It will take some time, but she'll be okay."

Daniela visibly relaxed, and Cassandra teased, "Oh, Daniela was practically inconsolable when we found Y/n. It was quite the scene."

Daniela blushed, trying to defend herself. "I was just worried, that's all."

Cassandra, chuckling, continued to tease her younger sister, and Bela added, "It's good to see you care, Daniela. Y/n means a lot to all of us."

As the conversation continued in the sitting room, Y/n stirred from her slumber, wondering where Miranda had gone. Following the sound of voices, she discovered them gathered in the sitting room. The attention of the group turned to Y/n as she entered the room, her presence bringing a pause to their discussion.

Daniela, with swift enthusiasm, rushed over to Y/n, enveloping her in a hug. Alcina, ever the protective figure, reminded Daniela to be gentle. Blushing, Daniela apologized, and Y/n reassured her, "It's okay, Daniela."

With a playful glint in her eye, Daniela warned, "If you ever scare us like that again, you won't like what happens."

Y/n settled on the couch beside Miranda, engaging in the ongoing conversation with the sisters. Finding comfort in Miranda's presence, she leaned into her, appreciating the warmth and reassurance. Miranda, in response, gently took Y/n's hand, their fingers entwining.

The sisters, ever observant, noticed the subtle intimacy and exchanged knowing glances. Their teasing remarks prompted Y/n to look down, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Miranda and Alcina chuckled at Y/n's reaction.

Cassandra smirked, "Looks like someone's enjoying the company."

Bela added with a playful tone, "Quite cozy, aren't we, Y/n?"

Daniela, joining in the teasing, teased, "I didn't know maids got such special treatment."

Y/n, feeling the heat in her cheeks, mumbled a response. Alcina, in a motherly tone, playfully scolded her daughters, "Leave the poor girl alone."

As the banter continued, the atmosphere remained light, filled with laughter and camaraderie. Eventually, Alcina and the sisters decided to retire to their rooms for the night, leaving Miranda and Y/n in the quiet sitting room.

Miranda, still holding Y/n's hand, turned to her, "They can be a handful, can't they?"

Y/n, feeling a mix of emotions, smiled and replied, "They're unique, but I appreciate the company."

Miranda, recognizing the lateness of the hour, suggested that it was time for both of them to retire to bed. Y/n agreed, and Miranda walked them to the door of Y/n's room. As they stood outside the room, Y/n expressed her gratitude, thanking Miranda for everything she had done.

Miranda, with a reassuring smile, replied, "It was no problem, Y/n. You're part of this household, and I want to ensure you feel safe and cared for."

Y/n nodded appreciatively but hesitated, a question lingering in her mind. Miranda, perceptive as always, sensed Y/n's uncertainty and gently probed, "What is it, Y/n? You seem like there's something on your mind."

Y/n bit her lip, hesitating before dismissing the thought, "Oh, it's nothing. I'll see you in the morning."

Miranda, not willing to let it go, softly grasped Y/n's hand, turning her to face her. "It's not 'nothing.' Tell me, Y/n. What's on your mind?"

Y/n glanced down, feeling a bit foolish, and mumbled, "It's stupid."

Miranda, with a patient and caring tone, insisted, "It's not stupid, and your thoughts matter. Talk to me, Y/n."

Miranda, unable to catch Y/n's quiet request, noticed the hesitancy in her expression. Gently lifting Y/n's face with her fingers, Miranda asked again, "What is it, dove? I couldn't quite hear you."

Blushing, Y/n repeated in a hushed tone, "I was wondering if... if you'd be willing to stay with me tonight."

Miranda's gentle smile grew, and she replied, "Of course, it's not stupid at all. If it makes you feel more comfortable, I'm happy to stay with you." Her fingers softly stroked Y/n's face, offering a reassuring touch.

Y/n, still uncertain, sought confirmation, "Really? You're willing to stay?"

Miranda nodded with sincerity, "Yes, really. Now, let's get ready for bed."

As Miranda prepared for bed, Y/n settled into the softness of the covers. When Miranda returned, Y/n eagerly cuddled up to her, finding solace in the comforting presence.

Miranda, embracing Y/n, softly whispered, "Goodnight, dove."

Y/n, feeling a warmth she hadn't known before, replied, "Goodnight, Miranda."

Y/n, waking in the early morning hours, felt a sharp pain in her stomach. Touching the area, she discovered wetness on her hands. Panic set in as she looked down and saw blood, a significant amount staining her clothes and the bed. The realization struck her that the stitches must have ripped.

Freaked out and in a state of shock, she urgently tried to wake Miranda. When Miranda didn't respond immediately, Y/n rushed out of the room, her mind racing for help. Without hesitation, she headed towards Bela's room, knocking anxiously on the door.

Bela, expecting another maid, opened the door only to be surprised by the distressed sight of Y/n.

Bela, concerned by Y/n's distressed state, urgently inquired, "What's wrong? Y/n, please, tell me!"

In shock and unable to articulate fully, Y/n stammered, "Blood... stitches... pain..."

Bela caught the scent of blood and quickly noticed Y/n's clothes stained crimson. Realizing the severity, she tried to keep Y/n awake, urging, "Stay with me, Y/n. Don't close your eyes."

Before Bela could leave to fetch her sisters, Cassandra and Daniela appeared, having caught wind of the situation. Their worried expressions deepened as they saw Y/n.

Bela swiftly directed Cassandra, "Stay with Y/n. I need to get Miranda. Daniela, go get Alcina."

Cassandra, determined to keep Y/n conscious, gently applied pressure to the wound, attempting to stem the bleeding. Concern etched across her face, she encouraged, "Y/n, stay with me. Tell me about something, anything."

Y/n, weakened and in pain, mumbled, "I... I don't know... hurts..."

Cassandra, doing her best to offer comfort, helped Y/n lie down, cradling her head in her lap. "It's going to be okay. Help is on the way," Cassandra reassured, her voice a soothing presence in the midst of the crisis. "Just focus on staying awake for a little longer."

Y/n's voice, feeble and strained, whispered to Cassandra, "I feel... so cold and tired."

Cassandra, maintaining a reassuring tone, replied, "Hey, don't worry. You're going to be fine. You just need to hang on a little longer until Miranda and Alcina get here."

Y/n, shivering, continued, "It hurts... so much."

Cassandra, applying gentle pressure to the wound, acknowledged, "I know it hurts, but we're doing everything we can to help you. Just stay with us, Y/n."

Y/n's eyes flickered, a sign of her weakening state, "I'm scared, Cassandra..."

Cassandra, stroking Y/n's hair soothingly, responded, "I understand. It's okay to be scared, but you're not alone. We're here with you, and help is on the way. Focus on breathing, okay? In and out."

Y/n, her breathing becoming more labored, managed a faint smile, "You're... a good friend, Cassandra."

Cassandra smiled back, her eyes reflecting concern, "And you're a strong person, Y/n. We'll get through this together."

The frantic urgency in Cassandra's voice filled the room as she heard the approaching footsteps of Miranda, Alcina, and the other sisters. "They're coming, Y/n. Just hold on a bit longer, help is here."

Miranda and Alcina burst into the room, their eyes immediately assessing the situation. Bela and Daniela quickly explained the circumstances, with Alcina's gaze narrowing in concern. Miranda, with a soothing yet urgent tone, assured Y/n, "We're here now, dear. You're going to be okay. Just stay with us."

Cassandra, feeling a sense of relief with the arrival of help, informed Miranda, "She just passed out, but she was conscious a moment ago."

Y/n's limp form in Cassandra's lap heightened the sense of urgency. Panicking slightly, Cassandra shook Y/n gently, calling her name, "Y/n, wake up. They're here now."

Miranda, taking charge, directed, "We need to get her to the medical room. Alcina, can you assist?"

Alcina nodded, taking Y/n carefully into her arms. "Let's go," she said, her tone reflecting a mix of concern and determination.

Miranda led the way, with Alcina following, carrying Y/n through the corridors. Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela trailed behind, their worry evident as they entered the medical room together.In the stark medical room, the atmosphere was thick with tension as Miranda, Alcina, and the sisters worked desperately to save Y/n. However, it became increasingly apparent that Y/n had lost an alarming amount of blood, pushing the limits of conventional medical intervention.

As the urgency heightened, Miranda hesitated, grappling with the decision that could either save or jeopardize Y/n's life. The only option left was the cadou, a mysterious and potent solution with uncertain consequences. The weight of the decision hung heavily on Miranda's shoulders.

After a moment of contemplation, Miranda made the difficult choice to implant the cadou into Y/n. The room fell silent as they anxiously waited for any sign of change. However, seconds felt like an eternity, and the anticipated transformation failed to manifest.

A sense of despair settled over the room as Y/n's vital signs continued to decline. The heart monitor emitted a flatline, the sound cutting through the heavy air like a painful truth. The sisters, normally composed and poised, began to lose their composure. The reality of the situation struck hard, and panic set in.

Miranda, her expression pained and defeated, spoke with a heavy heart, "There's nothing more we can do. I'm sorry."

Daniela, overcome with grief, couldn't contain her emotions any longer. Tears streamed down her face as she pleaded with Miranda, "Do something, please! Save her!"

As the sisters reluctantly left the room, Alcina casting a sympathetic glance at Miranda, a heavy silence enveloped the medical chamber. Alone with Y/n's lifeless form, Miranda's emotions erupted in a torrent of sadness and frustration.

Tears welled up in Miranda's eyes as she looked down at Y/n. A mix of sorrow and anger consumed her, the weight of responsibility settling heavily on her shoulders. "I'm sorry, my dear," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I should have seen the signs, done something sooner. This is my fault."

She sank into a chair beside Y/n's still form, her hands shaking as she reached out to brush a strand of hair from Y/n's face. "You trusted me, and I failed you," Miranda confessed, her voice trembling. "I should have known how fragile you were, but I was too blinded by my own arrogance."

The room seemed to echo with Miranda's self-reproach, and she continued to speak to the motionless figure on the bed. "I've spent centuries, seen so much, and yet, I couldn't save you. I can't forgive myself for this."

Tears fell freely as Miranda took Y/n's cold hand in hers, a futile attempt to warm the lifeless flesh. "You deserved better, my dove," she lamented. "I promised to protect you, and I failed. I'm so sorry." The weight of regret hung in the air, and Miranda's sorrowful confessions echoed through the silent room, unheard by the one person they were meant for.

The days that followed Y/n's passing were filled with a heavy atmosphere, grief clinging to the castle like a persistent shadow. The funeral had come and gone, leaving behind a somber emptiness that seemed to echo through the halls. But for Miranda, the pain persisted, and she found herself drawn to the small secret garden on the castle grounds.

In the tranquil enclosure, hidden away from the world, Miranda sat beside Y/n's resting place, surrounded by flowers that mirrored the fleeting beauty of life. She spoke to the quiet air, her voice a soft lamentation that blended with the rustling leaves and distant echoes of the castle.

"I miss you, my dove," Miranda confessed, her tears falling to the ground like silent prayers. "I never imagined your journey would end so abruptly. I failed you, and I can't forgive myself."

As Miranda poured out her heart, unbeknownst to her, Alcina and the sisters had silently followed her to the garden. They watched from a distance, hidden among the foliage, witnessing the raw emotion that Miranda had kept hidden from the world.

Bela, Daniela, and Cassandra exchanged glances, their eyes reflecting the pain they felt for both Y/n and Miranda. Alcina, usually composed and commanding, couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the woman she had come to care for in a way she hadn't anticipated.

Miranda's voice wavered as she continued to speak to the silent grave. "You deserved more than this. A life full of joy, not cut short by my shortcomings. I failed to protect you, and I'll carry that burden for eternity."

The wind carried Miranda's sorrowful words through the garden, mingling with the delicate fragrance of flowers. The sisters remained silent, allowing Miranda the space to grieve, understanding that some wounds could never fully heal.

Miranda's estate, once a grand and imposing structure, now stood as a mere shell of its former self. The emptiness within the cold stone walls echoed the hollowness in her heart. Life had continued for everyone else, but for Miranda, time seemed to freeze in the moment she lost Y/n.

Each week, the journey to Castle Dimitrescu became a melancholic pilgrimage. The once vibrant secret garden now held the weight of memories that refused to fade. Miranda spoke to the silent grave, recounting the events leading to that fateful day, as if reliving the tragedy would somehow alter the outcome.

The hole in Miranda's heart persisted, a constant ache that refused to dull with time. Y/n, who had entered her life so briefly yet left an indelible mark, continued to haunt Miranda's thoughts. The pain she felt was reminiscent of the loss of her own daughter, a wound that had never truly healed.

Miranda found herself stuck in a perpetual loop of grief, reliving the day Y/n died over and over again. The vibrant colors of her world had faded to shades of gray, and the once powerful and enigmatic woman had become a mere shell of herself.

The grandeur of Miranda's estate, once a symbol of her prowess, now mirrored the desolation within. The grand halls, once filled with the echoes of power, now reverberated with the quiet sobs of a mourning soul.

As Miranda gazed upon the cold stone walls of her estate, the pain of losing Y/n weighed heavily on her. The fleeting moments of joy they had shared were overshadowed by the relentless sorrow that now clung to her like a persistent shadow. And so, Miranda remained trapped in the past, bound by the unyielding chains of grief, haunted by the ghost of a love that had slipped through her fingers.

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radawayghoul · 12 days

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So here's my idea babes...

i'm sorry for tagging this in the cooper howard/ghoul section y'all, i just don't want anyone to miss it, plz just keep scrolling if you hate me for it xxxxx

You are one of Lee's best friends and have been since you started the previous school year (the one immediately before the show starts). Y'all met when you started as a TA for Amanda/Ms. Snodgrass' English class. After your TA position ended, you wound up taking an upper level English teacher position when one of the old teachers left. You will be one of the only other of Lee's supporters outside of Neal and this allows y'all to grow closer and for you to be his person to lean on.

The fic would take place over the course of the show with minor details changed here and there to include you. I will likely be taking some liberties with ending as well. If you haven't watched the show, that is completely fine because I'm gonna be changing some shit anyway lol.

It will be slow burn. Like...ultra slow burn because Lee IS a married man, after all. It'll mainnnllyyy be your character lusting after Lee/being a supportive best friend for a majority of the fic until Lee & Christine's divorce. I KNOWWW we'd all absolutely love for it to be us in Christine's position without the divorce BUT, this will make it more interesting for me to write.

I am in no way shape or form condoning cheating or anything of the sort but we all know how Lee is so IF a kiss or two slips in there, blame Lee, NOT ME lololol.

Okay, let me know what y'all think of my idea and pleeasseee give me ideas if you have anything to add!! Love youuuu xxx

Artie x

#walton goggins #lee russell #vice principals #neal gamby #hbo vice principals #hbo max #cooper howard #fallout #the ghoul #lee russell x reader #vice principals x reader #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader

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banditomojado · 1 month

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I haven't seen anyone so far mention the Roger scene. It was perfect, gut wrenching Sci-Fi drama. My immediate reaction after watching Coop murder him mid sentence was "omfg, that was beautiful, he gave him a quick merciful death right in the middle of him reminiscing about his mother's cooking" like I legit had tears in my eyes. One of the few times throughout the show where his human self peeks through the monster. Poor Lucy must have been so confused and then disgusted by the immediate emergency survival tactics (cannibalism) used by Cooper. He plays it off as an example of his ferociousness and Lucy buys it and does her whole high and mighty vault dweller shit, which obviously pisses him off. The tone completely shifts and we're back to present day ghoul. How fucking tragic is that? A man who refused to shoot a fictional character because it was cruel, now forced to mercy kill his friend precisely because it's less cruel than letting him turn. My heart broke for him.

#fallout prime #fallout #fallout tv series #the goul #cooper howard #lucy maclean #im not normal about this show

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perfectfangirl · 8 days

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notes after rewatching fallout s1 ep1

so once again like a crazy person [i've done this with star wars sequels before] i've decided to take three and half pages of notes over the course of an hour. i've been a fan of the games for at least a decade and i'm actually always watching lore content between the installments though so while i do know some minute details, within the show, there was some things i was interested in and curious about that i just decided to jot down. some of this may be things discussed already and some of it might be something i wasn't sure if anyone brought up before but anyways! maybe i'll do the whole season, but here's my ramblings • them titling the episode "the end" was when i knew i'd love the show • ok but i really wonder if cooper can still do those party tricks? he was really good at them and lucy would probably love them too 🥺 • thinking back, the radio in the first scene mentions not knowing where the president is--- beginning to wonder if he was the guy sitting in on the vault tec meeting • just realized they introduced the mr. handy robot in some of the first scenes • ten years of nuclear threat according to anchor but the show is careful not to give away all the cards because why does the weather anchor make it seem like they know when the bomb will drop? idk but birthday boy mother turns off tv real "head in the sand" like • the nat king cole song that's playing though [wondering if the song is mirroring specifically cooper's feelings about barb despite everything hmm] • horse's name is sugarfoot 🥹 • him having to pay alimony... wonder what the prenup? was like... [still think he probably loves barb 😞]

• them calling him a pinko despite him being an architect of vault boy's persona, a quintessential presentation of a "man's man" acting as a cowboy, a real cowboy, a former marine--- wondering if there was a smear campaign after his situation with barb and vault tec, him working children's parties leads me to believe... • did the kid's say the birthday boy's name was boyd? [if so, there's another character in the games with this name and this is also the name of a character walton has played in another series, funny] • weather man show's up again distressed, wondering if we'll get more info about that day • everyone ignoring, cognitive dissonancing their own nuclear annihilation is so prescient if not disturbing and damning

• him teaching janey the thumb thing ☹️ • cooper's voice when he says "let me see if i can't rustle you up a piece" 😩 • janey being the only one to notice the first bomb • the fear in cooper's eyes • cooper being in denial one last time before realization sets in • people becoming animals the moment they realize what's happening--- one guy punches his friend not letting his family into the fallout shelter • people getting into their cars and cooper onto his horse to escape--- wonder how fast they could be since it doesn't seem you could outrun nuclear annihilation

• lucy being raised so well under the circumstances 😔 [hope she never becomes her father] • i haven't trusted steph since episode one • lucy being a teacher [amongst other things] and asking maximus about what happened after the bombs fell makes so much sense [and also much like another person suggested is an interesting juxtaposition to cooper's pre war knowledge] • lucy showing how skilled she is for being a marriage candidate when in reality we are seeing someone fit for the wasteland is crazy on second watch • is lucy not watching a cooper howard movie with her dad? hello??

• them reading "war and peace" in the family book club is rich • lucy [thinking] she's not good at guns, ironic • steph having to step in like a sisterly type because lucy's mom isn't there 😞 • the wedding dress on lucy being ill fitting, tight as symbolism for lucy not truly "fitting in there" and being constrained [foreshadowing] oof • the vault boy sign in the back saying "don't lose your head" lmao • didn't catch the "cousin stuff" until someone mentioned it on tumblr and twitter 💀

• the flashback we see of lucy ending up being almost a false memory, a misrepresentation of her actual memories, that she has been on the surface, in the sun • norm taunting lucy about her future husband being "anybody" and a "cannibal, crammed full of tumours" 😭 unfortunately for ghoulcy, this was some of the heaviest foreshadowing [the raider also could have been one too] • why didn't hank recognize moldaver? • so many things i still don't understand about vaults 31, 32, 33 • the growing realization they are raiders was pretty funny to me lmao

• moldaver having to sit through the disingenuous lies of hank ugh • norm going into vault 32 like they wanted them to know what was up? or is that just how vault doors work? they used lucy's mom's pip boy [that hank lied about burying] • lucy putting norm in a storage vault, she really is so strong • the handed down wedding dress getting messed up • i am curious if the raiders [shady sands survivors?] only mostly harmed vault tec aligners but maybe not • the way hank and steph retaliating a little too well • hank acting like he doesn't know moldaver when everyone really does know moldaver • moldaver telling lucy she looks like her mother is really such a tipoff

• realizing maximus is getting bullied 😭 • dane... might love maximus a little idk • from latrine duty to basically ruling over the brotherhood of steel • they really showed some dude jacking it lmao it's just normal i guess 💀 • maximus being defeated and having a rightful outburst of emotion, poor guy • the poster saying "the outside world can never harm you"--- funny • chet would've died up there 😭 • them not opening the vault back up for her, wondering if the vapourized bodies are from the initial bomb drop or the subsequent shady sands ones • dane almost gets maximus killed three times tbh • maximus joined the brotherhood of steel to get back at what vault tec did, essentially hank's doing, hank has many enemies • knowing the enclave, it makes sense why siggi is hunted • cooper the ghoul's introduction though • the bounty hunter saying his captors dig cooper up every once in a while to cut pieces of flesh off him 😞 no wonder cooper acts the way he does 😔 he's been taken advantage of, no wonder he doesn't trust anybody and is horrible to everyone • "why is this an amish production of "the count of monte cristo" or the weirdest circle jerk i've ever been invited to?" why would he say this 😭 • cooper's... been invited to circle jerks 👀 • does the bounty hunter know the ghoul is cooper howard?

• him not harming the chicken, him healing dogmeat, there's something there, folks • people only digging him up to use him again 😞 • what a coincidence he's dug up just as lucy leaves the vault • "i do this shit for the love of the game" he's a character, he's playing a character, real theatre kid • hence why cooper is introduced as "the ghoul", cooper is long gone • "us cowpokes, we take it as it comes" something about this lineee

#fallout #fallout show #the ghoul #ghoulcy #lucy #maximus #cooper #text post #my meanderings #the end

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stonemags · 11 months

Text

SUGAR BABY AU

Ch.6 Mishandle

Characters in this series: Reader, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Carol Danvers, Darcy Lewis, Maria Hill, Kate Bishop, Pepper Potts, Valkyrie, Shuri

Summary:How much can you trust people that are the closest to you? Can you put any trust into strangers? After being tricked so many times, you can be sure to trust one person ... yourself. You should have left it that way, to bad you give second chances like fliers on the street.

Warnings: age gap relationships, sugar mommy/sugar baby relationships, swearing, mensplaning, all story is gonna be +18, you are responsible for your own ass.

Word count: 8915

A/N: This one is coming out faster this time, to make up for the wait ive put you all on. I hope you will enjoy it. Feedback is always walcome! Previous chapter

Your desk is covered in papers, the screen too bright for your liking, your eyes are stinging after hours of sharp focus on the monitor, but this old computer is not really cooperating with you. Loud noises are distracting, making it hard for you to finish your tasks, and you have a lot of them. Your boss, Loki, has put on you a first adult-ish assignment. It's your chance to no longer make coffee, kind of work, even more that fresh inters came in so they are at the bottom of the chain right now. That's how it works. The amount of work stresses you out but you are not going to let the opportunity slide. You can finally edit a text that will end up in one of the less popular magazines, but it's still going to be out. Doesn't matter how insignificant it will be, your name will be on this work and you need to give a 100% out of you.

It's been 2 weeks since Carol's party, you haven't seen her or any of her friends since that night and to be completely honest you thought about Natasha and Wanda …. not more than once. When you came home and changed the bandaid on your hand the next day, you reminded yourself of how caring and worried they were, but also very smug and self indulgent, after that… nothing. You had school, work, shifts at the bar and your friends to care about. Not mentioning your phone caller issue that you will have to address and take care of at some point. Your life fell back into place after that night, gym, school, work, repeat. You have to keep the flow going or it's really easy to get lost in this kind of lifestyle. It's like running at full speed, you can't trip. The faster you go the harder you are going to hit.

“You better do it right yn.” That low voice scared you coming from behind your shoulder. Loki was always creepy, not in a perverted way but still creepy.

“Yes boss, on it.” Short and sweet, don't discuss with him, you have learned it the hard way. It's for the best to make him feel validated. You assume that he had a rough childhood by the way he treats other people and by the not so quiet conversations he has with his brother in the office. You can't help but hear them, all the workers do, and you learned to have some understanding towards him.

You are at your last working hour, the phone is thrown into the drawer so it won't occupy you but your smart watch is vibrating with the amount of messages you are getting. You ignore every single one of them even when the vibration is traveling up your arm, leaving goosebumps on your skin. Last ten minutes you spend on cleaning your desk and putting your stuff into the bag. As you run down two flights of stairs you think about your plan for the rest of the day. You are done with work for now, you have spent half of the night doing extra work for school to get a little bit ahead and it worked amazingly on your anxiety, or the lack of it. You decide on visiting Steve on your way home, even if you don't have a shift at the bar, you enjoy spending time with him. As someone opens the door in front of you to let you exit first, with a short “thanks” you are outside, changing your plans immediately after you feel the warm sun. At this time of the year it is rare and you are planning on using that antidepressant window. The skin on your face feels like it is covered in a thin layer of warmth getting deeper inside of you, embracing your brain in an endorphin hug. You will visit Steve later, for now you are going to grab a nice coffee from the bike/coffee stand near the park and have a walk with your headphones on, ignoring the whole world.

“Can you start picking up your goddamn phone!” You turn around just in time to stop an angry Darcy right in front of you. Her face seems worried just as she is angry. Right behind her there is Carol clearly having a laugh at her girlfriend's tantrum. When you see her smile you can help but join and embrace Darcy in a hug.

“Sorry Darcy, work stuff. What’s up, what's so important that you came here?” It's unusual for any of your friends to arrive at any of your work places, from your work friends they know only Steve as they hang out at the bar sometimes, but they dont push to get to know everybody around you and you are grateful for that. Darcy points at the car that her girlfriend is already entering and with a big sigh you throw behind you all the warm sunny plans you had and follow along. The car always smells new and you are wondering if Carol is actually exchanging her car for the same one, just new, from time to time. Seems like something she would do. Leather seats squeak under your touch and you take your place in the backseat and you hate every second of it. It's like wearing leather pants, for you it feels like biting a cotton towel, or having your sleeves getting wet, when you wash your hands. Uncomfortable at least.

Carol starts driving and Darcy looks at you with a really excited expression on her face.

“No.” You say to her, making her confused right away.

“I didn't even say anything.”

“But you are going to, and you are excited, which means i have to do stuff, and you could text me what’s all this is about, but you didn't, so kidnapping me is the only way for me to participate in whatever evil plan you made.” She seems almost offended but it lasts three seconds before she starts laughing.

“You know me so well.” She is slouching over the back of her sweet so she can face you and it makes Carol uncomfortable, worrying that if anything happens the seat belt would work correctly. With one hand on the wheel, Carol puts the other on Darcy's thigh and turns her around. She turns off music and with a steer voice starts talking.

“Yn can hear your love, don't do that please.” Darcy takes Carol hand into hers not taking off her thigh, just to confirm that she understood and she is sorry.

“Yes daddy, I'm sorry.” Carol is rarely mad at Darcy, she doesn't really have a reason to, they made for each other, at least in your opinion, but when she is Darcy will use any pet name she can to melt her girlfriends heart and get on her good side again, and it's clearly working wonders.

“You are having a date Yn.” Carol informs you and you know this is a way of hers to mess with Darcy, the fact that she wasn't the one to share the news infuriates her.

“I was supposed to, ugh…. I have an outfit for you at Carol's house and we will give you a ride to the restaurant.”

“That's amazing, thank you very much… but I have work. My shift at the bar starts in-”

“In two days Yn, I have access to your calendar, don't try anything with me.” Feeling defeated, you slouch back a little bit and let your eyes follow the world outside of the car. Carol turns on the radio again after a minute of silence, assuming that everything was said and it won't be irritating for anyone. For a second you even let yourself sink into music and the outside world. Sun is peeking through the small alleys between the buildings, falling on your face in a pattern. You remember briefly that when you weren't able to fall asleep as a child your parents, or someone, you can't really remember, was taking you into the car and driving a couple of times around the block. Street Lamps or the sun flashing from time to time on your face was making you feel good, safe, comfortable, like there is something so bigger then you and everything around you. You found comfort in unlimitless nothingness and even now as an adult you feel safe. You are able to fight the sleepy state, well maybe you drifted away a little bit, and as you see Carol's house you are fully conscious again, anxiety of what's coming slowly creeping in.

You enter the house, talk with Carol and Darcy about the last party and upcoming events, work stuff, your studies and Darcy's new projects at her school. You can never fully understand what she is talking about, too much chemical talk but you are so proud of her and happy that she can feel fulfilled with where she is. You are always interested in Carol's work and life, maybe that's why you are the closest to her among all your friends. She appreciates the way you treat her as her, not as Darcy's girlfriend or treat both of them as one, because as close as they are, they are still themself. They help you prepare, get your hair fixed, put a nice outfit together, and Carol even let you borrow some of her perfume. In no time you are back in the car going to the unknown location, to meet with a stranger. You are reminding Darcy that you agreed for half an hour of this show and then you are going to be even. She tries to extend it for an hour, using arguments like “ you can't get to know a person in half hour”, or “ you won't be even able to eat”. As you pull in front of the restaurant you see three Michelin stars in the front of it and you almost choke.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME? IN HERE I'M NOT GOING TO BE ABLE TO GET A GLASS OF WATER WITH MY BUDGET!” It was louder than you anticipated and the doorman put his focus on the car in front of him. He started going into your direction but Darcy opened the window at the right time.

“Everything is okay, we just need a second.” He smiled and without any words pointed at the parking spot a little bit further from the main door. Carol took a clue and parked there. Darcy took her seat belt off and turned to you, making you jump.

“Darcy this is too much, and why do I even have to get so dressed up for someone I will turn down in the first two minutes?” You don't want to do this, and you can't be more clear than that. As bad as it sounds you are planning on being just as honest with your date.

“Give them a chance, Jesus, why are you so negative, they're gonna pay for you.” She got out of the car and opened your door rushing you outside. The restaurant is far enough from your house to have a real struggle with coming back, so you have to rely on Darcy and you are not enjoying this feeling. Just when you stepped outside it came to you what she said.

“They!? What do you mean by They ?! Darcy is that -'' You can't even finish, Darcy closes your door, jumps back into her seat and as in a getaway car tells Carol to drive. You can only hear a faint have fun coming from her window. You run your hand down your face, taking a deep breath in and decide to get through it as ripping off a bandaid, fast but painfully. You straighten out your outfit, little crevices created by the short ride are easy to clean up and the cleaned up outfit helps you a lot with your confidence. You feel like you will need a lot of it during that dinner. Constant tag and pull with the redheads is exhausting and staying afloat as they try to drown you down feels like a survival chore. You can't help but be angry at Darcy, you know she wants good, you know you promised but you feel a little bit betrayed. You can't really pinpoint why but the feeling spreads uncomfortable through your body, or maybe it's just the cold that went back with the sun setting down. Beautiful purple color of the sunset lets you grab the last bits of energy, hope and the feeling of rest. You know it will end as soon as you turn around to enter the restaurant or when the sun will finally set. It's sad that you can't wait for the latter.

“Half hour Yn, just half hour.” You talk to yourself hoping it will help you feel the back bone of your character and get through it smoothly enough. What 30 minutes can do right?

You enter the building, or rather you are led by the doorman through two sets of doors. After the second one you are met with a man in a suit, he looks important, you are wondering if that's the owner, maybe a menager, they are always around right? He looks so elegant that his status needs to be at a high level. Little lost in your head you hear him speak when the doors are closing behind you.

“May I take your coat miss?” Miss? Coat? You thought that this man is… and he is just…. It's going to be long, thirty minutes.. This is not something you enjoy, not something that is a part of your world. You just need to survive this. You are wondering how the man will know which coat is yours. He didn't give you a number nor did he take your name. It's all strange and the coat belongs to Carol, you are worrying now about getting it back later.

Restaurant seems much bigger from the outside. The building is huge but the dining area pleasantly small. The kitchen must take a lot of space, you think to yourself approaching a Host of the restaurant. Small wooden desk in front of him looks amazing. Golden leaves decorating the legs as a vine. The whole place is in darker colors but it gives a more elegant and fancy look to it. Smell is not overwhelming which is usually a problem for you in the restaurants, not in this. You can hear a light chatter around,

“Welcome, do you have a reservation?” He asks you with his back straight, his tie carefully secured around his neck. Do you have a reservation? This whole thing feels so out of blue, catching you off guard in every single step, it seems.

“Um… I….” You can't recall their last name, why can't you recall their last name? You fall back into the memory, you follow the steps of the day you meet them. You went to work, bus ride, Wanda opened the door for you, she had her suit on, her shirt was open, she had a messy bun on top, she had this nice perfume on her, the same she used last time you saw her at the Carols party. You could feel it clearly when she was tending your wound. Darcy introduced them to you. She said their names, they are both lawyers or Wanda is a lawyer and Natasha is in finances, yes that seems correct. Did she say their last name ? You remember now, she didn't but they gave you their card…. which you didn't even look at, before throwing it away. Then it comes to you, you were supposed to text them last time after the accident, they gave you a new card and you actually have it on you at the back of your phone case. It is very embarrassing trying to get your phone out of its case but also necessary. Host is waiting for you patiently, his face emotionless, he was definitely well trained for his job.

“It should be on the name-” You finally take out a card and look at the last name. “-Romanoff, or Maximoff. One of those.” It's strange to see that they are married, but they still use separate last names, it might be just for business and you decide on asking them if you will have to speak at all. At least it's going to be something to talk about. You smoothly follow the host to your table, moving between the tables you can see all the food prepared for other guests and your stomach lets you know about its empty state. Smell coming from each of the tables will not be very helpful in the next 30 minutes, because there is no way that you are going to let them pay for anything, not with these prices. At the far left corner of the restaurant you can see Wanda and Natasha chatting between each other, their hands together on the table, Natasha is lightly smoothing her wifes hand with her thumb, laughing at something she said. It's the first time they don't seem like big, scary rich assholes, more human than before. You are afraid, or maybe you are sure it's going to drop as soon as they are going to see you. First to notice you is Natasha, she lets go of Wandas hand and stands up to greet you. You don't want to make a scene in the restaurant, so you kiss her cheek as her hand lingers on your waist and you do the same with Wanda. Looking at them, seeing how dressed up they are, you are glad that Darcy made you wear the clothes she prepared, if you would dress yourself, you would for sure stand out, not in a good way. You take your place on an empty chair when Wanda starts speaking to you.

“I hope you didn't have any problems finding us?” She sounds soft, soft enough for you to find it degrading.

“Except not knowing your last names it was pretty easy.” You say in a rough voice and that makes Natasha look back to the man that brought you to the table.

“You didn't have you, I gave him clear instructions. It's not that hard to do the only thing you are here for. I'm going to talk to him.” She drops the napkin on an empty table and stands up. You are not sure how you find your voice, maybe it's the nervous atmosphere that Natasha is adding to, or maybe your empathy for a fellow customer service worker, but you speak up.

“Sit down!” To your surprise, she does with a shocked face, while her wife laughs a little.

“Can we just order and get this over with? It feels like work.” You ask and that makes Wanda look at you quizzingly.

“What do you mean baby? Get it over with?” You put down the menu that you were reading and look her in the eyes.

“I promised Darcy that I will be here for at least half an hour. It started five minutes ago and I'm counting the time. I didn't want to be here and I found out just when she dropped me off that I'm meeting with you both.” She looks hurt and you need to address that before it gets more messy, even more that Natasha looks angry. You look between them and continue.

“Look-” You run your hand on your face, as it is supposed to take off the worry. “-I’m sorry, but i'm not looking for dates, or relationships. Any kind of relationship.” You say pointing your finger between them.

“Can we just spend this 25 minutes talking or whatever and I promise you won’t have to waste any more time on me.” That makes Wanda's face soften. She looks like she is about to say something but Natasha cuts in.

“Sure, let's just order something.” In the next three minutes you placed an order and as much as they pursued you to get something to eat you didn't get anything. You got a coffee which cost twenty five dollars. You regret that decision, thinking that you would be okay with the tap water. Your stomach starts to hurt with how empty it is and all the smells are affecting it in a horrible way. Wanda and Natasha placed their orders and food came in faster then it took to order it. They are really at the top in this restaurant. They start eating while you enjoy your coffee. Wanda tries to start a light conversation, to make it a little bit less awkward for all of you.

“So Yn, Darcy told us you were working today, was it a good shift?”

“Decent, I got my first article to do a final edit to.” You say and take a sip of coffee, looking at Wanda enjoying her pasta alfredo. You feel yourself salivating and you probably look too long at her food, because it makes her wonder if you actually want anything.

“Yn, are you sure you are not hungry?” Wanda says and her wife finally joins the conversation.

“We know we picked an expensive restaurant, let us get you something to eat sugar.” She is about to call the waiter to the table again.

“No. No, Natasha no, I'm really okay. Please don’t.” She looks at you, deeply studying your eyes, knowing that you are doing that because you are uncomfortable with the prices, but still she doesn't want to go against you, as much as she wishes she could. With each passing time she spends with you, she realizes that you can be destructive for yourself, and she would gladly take that away from you. You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket but you decide to keep it there for the next fifteen minutes. Time feels like it stretches itself, making you feel like it has been over an hour. You keep your fingers on the brim of your coffee mug, trying to make your legs stop shaking, and your muscles twitching. It's not that you are nervous, you are past that, but your medication is wearing off and you can feel it. At this time you would either take a second dose if you were at work, or with your friends, or just people in general, or you would take some actions to make yourself comfortable. Caffeine doesn't help, and it was a bad idea as it just makes you more and more sleepy with every second. Your left hand is laying on the table and the tablecloth feels awful against your fingertips. Material feels like it lingers on your skin even after you pick your hand up, it's too soft and too harsh at the same time, like a used sandpaper sheet. You wish you could pick your hand up but you can't. It feels embarrassing to do so, not because of the action but because of the reason to do so, so you force yourself to keep it that way. Only fifteen minutes longer. It feels like you said it to yourself an hour ago but with the time speed in your brain, it was only a minute. You are physically restraining yourself from counting seconds, numbers help you stay sane but you can't do that right now, if you would, everything that two woman in front of you are speaking about would go into the void, and as a center of entertainment for them right now you can’t allow yourself to drift off, they would notice. Clutter of silverware feels like it's happening at the front part of your skull, Lady at the table on your right has some good insights about new generations of doctors, she is a doctor too, she has her id clipped to her bag. Man to whom she is speaking is sweating a lot, he is nervous and it seems like they are on a date. One girl, a waiter, has had enough of today, she stands at the corner next to the bar, nobody can see her, or maybe nobody just pays attention, except you. Sometimes putting on a work uniform equals disappearing. She is running her hands on her thighs, looking up to the ceiling, she tries to stop crying. That makes you look around the room, a man in a big suit is red on his face, he was just yelling, or arguing since you didn't hear anything before. He shoves food into his mouth like it's going to calm his nerves.

“Are you even listening?” Natasha calls out and just then her voice breaks through all the loud noise around you.

“Hm? I'm sorry I just-”

“Wasn't listening. Look, I understand you don't want to be here, but a little decency wouldn't hurt you. We are trying hard to get to know you, not use you, not sponsor you, not even embarrass you, just get to know you. I don't understand what's so awful about it.” She throws a napkin at the table and stands up.

“I need to use the restroom, I'll be right back.” She looks at her wife when she speaks, she is mad, you didn't mean to make her mad, or disappointed, you really do appreciate the interest.

“Nat, I really didn't mean to- '' You are trying to defend yourself but she is already gone, you lie your head low and massage your traps with your hands, it's painful but helpful. You get this uneasy feeling inside your stomach and you can't say if that's the lack of food or the nerves. Just then you realize that you picked your hand up from uncomfortable table cloth and you make a mental note not to put it down at the same place.

Wanda swallows the food she just finished, your time is almost up and you are grateful for it, even more that since the moment you went into the restaurant you were doing nothing more but disappointing everybody, including yourself. You decide to speak to her, maybe try to explain yourself a little why you are acting that way.

“Im sorry Wanda.”

“I know.” A moment of silence lingers between you when she grabs her wine glass, not taking her back off of her chair, stretching her arm out.

“I'm sorry about her, I’ m not saying she is not right yn, i feel the same way, but my wife is just very frustrated by you.” You hang your head low, like a child being scolded, you tell yourself that you shouldn't care about their opinion, but it matters, everybody's opinion matters and you hate that about yourself.

“I wasn't aware that I was that irritating for her. That's just an additional reason for why you shouldn't waste your time on me Wanda.” She smiles at you and shakes her head.

“Sexually frustrated Yn, emotionally frustrated. She really wants to get to know you, and she is being on her best behavior holding back every second we are spending with you.” That makes you even more confused.

“What do you mean?”

“You are a precious one aren't you?” This time you can be sure it was degrading.You straighten up your posture.

“That little stunt you did at the party?” She leans in, making you once again lost in the smell of her perfumes. You don't say anything but she can see on your face how oblivious you are.

“You remember that moment when Natasha went to you to simply try and devour you? That little stunt you pulled with her belt? Please you had to see her reaction, she has the same look every time she looks at you, and to be honest i don't blame her. I had a fun night thanks to you baby, it's a shame you weren't there.” She finishes the sentence and then her wine. You feel like you have finished all the air, it's hard to breathe and it's too warm, and you don't understand those feelings, they put you in a fight or flight state, but at the same time you are glued to the chair, not able to move. Wanda puts her hand on yours and interlocks your fingers, you are not able to stop her or yourself.

“Yn, breath.” She looks a little worried but at the same time highly entertained.

“What's going on?” Natasha comes back to the table and her voice brings you back and makes you let go of Wanda’s hand like it's burning you.

“Oh nothing love, I just told Yn how much fun I had because of her after the party.”

“Wanda-” Natasha says in a scolding way, seeing the state Wanda put you in. “- I apologize for my wife's sugar. Sometimes she can't keep her mouth shut.” Their holding hands and being so tender with each other, it makes you feel like an intruder.

“I thought you like it wide open.” Wanda's comment makes you choke on your coffee and it goes down the wrong pipe, sending you into a coughing spree. A girl, the waiter you saw before comes right in to check on you. You assure her that everything is okay, but she still leaves a glass of water for you on the side, sending you a warm smile. Wanda and Natasha cut the topic seeing in what way it's affecting you and you fall into light conversation for the last couple of minutes. You ask them about work and they can't say much other than it’s classified sounding like from csi miami series, but either way you are very much interested in stories they encounter while being at work.

Your phone vibrates a couple of more times and at the fifth time you can’t not pick it up. You assume who is trying to reach you but as you pull your phone out of the inside pocket in your jacket you can see that you were very wrong. You have ten messages and five missed calls, all from Shuri, and she never calls you. You immediately get this worried look and they can see it.

“What's going on Yn?”

“Is everything okay?” You don't even pick your head up to look at them.

“I'm sorry I need to call back. I'm sorry.” You dial Shuri on your phone and call her back without getting up from the table. You just turn your body side to them to get a little bit more private. She pics up after two dial tones.

“Shuri!? Is everything okay? What's going on?” You are holding your phone with your right hand and playing with the rings on your left hand. Your voice is low trying not to disturb anybody's dinner or conversations, fortunately your table is far enough from others. Natasha and Wanda pay close attention to you, their hands together in a caring manner.

“Now?” You ask and look at your watch.

“I'm really far away from the city-” You pinch your nose with your fingers.

“- I can try to call a cab-” A moment of silence from your side let's Wanda slip a fast question.

“Is something wrong?” She whispers to you laying her hand on the table close to you. You look at her apologetically.

“-it's not about the money Shuri. I'm just limited right now. How much time do I have? An hour? Okay, yeah I'm going to figure something out, don't worry about it I got you, just send me the location.” With that you hang up the phone and start looking around to collect your things, which you don't have because everything is in your coat. You look at them and you don't know what to say, you are just about to cut short a 30 minute meeting in which you already disappointed them so much. They are both worried that much you can say but Natsaha is definitely clenching her jaw, it's not a good sign. You try to find in yourself the right words to turn them down one last time, but you can't, not with this level of stress.

“I need to go.” You stand up looking between both of them. You take thirty dollars from your pocket and put it under your coffee mug.

“I'm sorry.” With that you leave them and don't provide them any explanation, to be honest they didn't ask. You move into the exit and wait a second for the man to give you your, actually Carol’s coat. You thank him and go outside trying to figure out what you are going to do.

Natasha and Wanda, a little disappointed with how things went, decided to finish dinner and head home. Fifteen minutes after you left they exit the restaurant and wait for their car to be brought. Just as they receive keys from the worker they hear a loud conversation on the side of the building. Natasha looks around the corner and sees you packing around with your phone in your ear, for a second she thinks about leaving you but her wife walks past her towards you.

“I understand but I don't have enough cash! You know how far it is, i can cash app the money whats the problem?! No don’t- . Ugh!” Clearly someone hung up on you. You are looking at your phone typing aggressively, you seem worried out of your mind.

“Okay Yn what's going on?” Wanda asks when her wife joins her and you are surprised to see them. You take a second before you reply.

“I can’t find a cab, it's nothing really. Again sorry it turned out this way.” Your phone rings again and you pick it up so fast that the second ring tone doesnt come.

“Yes, yes I called. I need a cab to the city center-” You pace around not being able to stay in place, even more that you just got this feeling in your legs that you can't describe. Each night before sleep, when your medicine wears off completely your legs have this tingly feeling, like slight electric shocking waves going through your muscles. It's nothing pleasant. Usually a hot shower helps but the alternative is just to keep moving, so that's what you do.

“- HOW MUCH? Okay yeah, yeah you too.” You sit down, cross legged at the curb, your left palm is open while your right is holding the phone, lightly tapping it on your left. Natasha crouches in front of you and tries to catch eye contact. You don't look up so she snatches the phone from your palm.

“Hey!” You reach to grab it back but she already gave it to Wanda that stands behind her.

“Tell us what's wrong, sugar?” You look between them, they look at you gently, worried, trying to read your expressions while you are breathing heavily with stress, your upper back is tense and you would love to shake it off of you. Without giving them too much information you speak up.

“I need to pick up someone from the city center and I should be there-'' You look at your watch trying to figure out how much time passed from your conversation with Shuri. “- in forty minutes. I called a couple of companies but they either don't have anybody in the area, or they don't have a cash app and I don't have that much cash on me.” You explain carefully, trying hard not to sound crazy or overemotional, even if you feel your body shaking. Natasha is standing up, it makes you feel like she is hovering above you, and you don't have energy to fight for your phone. To your surprise she stretches her hand towards you and helps you stand up. You follow, and the feeling of her skin on yours is very different from Wandas. It's hard to tell if that's a good or a bad thing. With both of them your whole relationship, if you can even call seeing them three times, a relationship, you had an off feeling but at the same time some connection that wanted to be made.

“Come on, we’re gonna drive you.” Natasha says with her face straight, she takes the space leaving no room for you to decline. You are in the tight spot, Shuri is counting on you and you are needed, there is a big possibility you won't be able to do this without their help, and oh god how much you hate it.

“No, i'm going to- i will-” Wanda interrupts your protest already opening the front passenger door for you.

“You will do what? You are out of options, Yn. Get in.” And you do, with her hand on the small of your back you take the space next to Natasha. For a second you are confused about why you are sitting in the front seat.

“ Tell me where to go.” Natsaha doesn't even take a look at you, she seems pissed and you don't blame her, you would probably hate yourself in their position. ruining the date, making them do something for you, ruining their day schedule. They both probably have a thousand better places to be right now, and they are stuck with you. Awkwardness of the situation doesn't help the anxiety you have about the passing time, you are scared of running late, always, but in this situation even more. After giving them the address and helping with directions from time to time you are 5 minutes away from your destination.

“So who is Shuri?” Wanda asks from the back seat, taking your focus off of the road in front of you.

“Oh she studies at the university with me, she is Tony Stark’s best student.” You explain briefly.

“That Stark? What a small world.” Natasha comments taking a fast look at her wife in the back mirror.

“ That's nice, baby, but I meant who is she to you.” Are you imagining things or does she sound jealous? You can't help but wonder. You are not sure what makes you open up in front of them in any way, but you do.

“She is my-” you make a little pause, wondering what words you should use. “-friend, a really good friend.”

“Hm a really good one you say?” Wanda is pushing you a little bit trying to bring some more information out of you.

“Yeah, we were together for two years, she is like family to me. Actually her whole family kind of took me in, as a part of them.” Too much Yn, too much, You bite your tongue, probably a little too late, you are mad at yourself for revealing that much about your past, to total strangers. That was always an issue for you, if someone was willing to listen you were eager to talk. That's unfortunately not a safe thing to do, at least usually.

“So we went out to pick up your ex?” Natasha is straight forward, and strangely you respect that. At that moment you arrive in front of elementary school.

“Actually no.” You answer quickly and get out of the car, looking straight at the little boy waiting with his teacher near the gate. You walk in their direction.

“JUNIOR!” You yell out for him and the moment he sees you, his backpack is on the ground and he runs into your direction. You catch him into your arms and spin him around as he hugs himself close to your neck, securing his legs around your torso. You walk still holding him up to pick up his backpack. You didn't realize that both Natasha and Wanda got out of the car and were approaching you.

“It's been a while since we saw you miss Yn. Have a nice day.” Teacher sends Junior T’Challa a wave and goes back into the building. You are written down on the list to pick up Shuri’s nephew. It's not the first time for you to do that, but it's true that it's been a while. Boy refuses to let you go as you try to pick up his backpack. Before you can do it, struggling a little bit Natasha snatches it from the ground looking down at you.

“Yn? Who is that?” Junior asks you and to be honest you hoped that they would already leave.

“This is Natasha and Wanda, they drove me here, which I'm very thankful for, but now they have to go. Right?” You hope that the hint is not too small.

“Actually we have the whole day reserved for you Yn. You and this little boy now.”

“Im T'Challa Junior.” He says proudly, getting out of your arms at the same time.

“It's Shuris nephew.” You kneel down, fixing his jacket. The water proof material got stuck in the zipper. You take the piece out and zip it all the way up, trying to keep him nice and warm.

“She got stuck with Profesor Stark.” Boy gets visibly sad after that information. You are thinking for a second if you should do something with him, or just get him home and take care of your responsibilities, which to be honest are piling up. You got three texts about essays that are needed for tomorrow. All for the same class and the same topic, which is the worst case scenario for you.

“Don't worry, Yn here is actually taking you to the theme park. We are going to have a lot of fun.” Natasha throws information out of nowhere, without asking you, giving you any heads up, and taking full control over the situation, and you thought for a split second to get violent with her. How dare she use a little boy's emotions against you? Yes, sure, it's a nice thing to do, but you told them specifically that you don't have too much time, that you have half an hour for them and that's it, that you don't want to be near them or do more than necessary to keep your promise. Which part of that she didn't get? Wanda notices how angry you got after her wife’s idea, and as much as she thinks about resolving this issue, this also might be a good idea to show you that they are not so bad. She kneels down next to you to get to the boys and your eye level, her eyes are soft, apologetic almost.

“It's going to be fun, Yn. You’ll see.” Junior gets excited and follows Natasha to the car, you are right behind them with wanda. How are you supposed to take happiness out of his hands? You are not a monster.

“Cheer up Yn.” Wanda is walking on a very thin line.

“Cheer down Wanda, this is hopefully the last time I have to see you both.” Leaving shocked Wanda behind, you get into the place with Junior on the back and let Natasha decide where to go. Make him happy, and survive. That's all that matters right now. You would give your life for this boy, what's one day, even if it means you staying up all night to catch up with your work, because of course you agreed to take those additional papers for tomorrow. You need money, lots of it, so you need to work… a lot. Just as you were getting nervous about it and your bank account your phone started going off with text messages. One after another, drilling a hole in your calmness. You don't even read them, you decide to call right away and you can't be bothered enough that you are not alone.

“What do you want?” Wanda looks at you worried, but smiles at the little boy to keep him calm.

“No.” Some arguing can be heard through the phone on the other side of the call. Even when you put it on the lowest volume, it's so loud that they can hear.

“You do want me to starve, don't you?... At the end of the week, that's all I have to say to you. Leave me alone.” You finish your call and mute your phone, of course after filing Darcy and Shuri up on what's happening and where are you going. Wanda and Natasha didn't ask, hoping you will explain what the call was about, it didn't sound good.

The rest of the day passed good but horrible slowly. Junior had so much fun, riding with Natasha and playing games with Wanda, or sitting down and eating corn dogs with you. Seeing him happy makes you happy, but the mental load that you are carrying with you is heavy enough that you can't relax or enjoy this for even a second. Going through stuff in your head is a normal thing for you, but at the end of the day, when you're actually sitting down to do what you have to do you feel like you went through the same task five times already. It's simply dreadful, not mentioning the lack of any satisfaction when you are actually done.

Shuri tells you that she is already home, Junior is tired, and you are also so ready to go home. You asked Natasha and Wanda, who were trying so, so, so hard to get to you in any way, that it was irritating at some point, to give T'Challa a ride. Normally you would feel bad about it but it was their idea in the first place.

Shuris home is a little bit outside of the city, not far from the subway thankfully. When Natasha parks her car at the side of the street, you collect your bag and get out of the car. Walking to the other side of it you zip your jacket up, goosebumps all over your body, reminding you physically how cold it is at this time of year. Street lights give off your favorite time of the day vibe, even if it's far till three am. You open the door on the right side and slowly unbuckle Junior from the seat.

“Don’t.” You tell Wanda, seeing her undoing her seatbelt, also to go out and help you. Surprisingly she listens to you. You take the boy into your arms and let him hug you half asleep, you hold him up with your right hand and take his backpack with your left. It's heavier than it looks. Actually they both are, or maybe you are just really tired, it's been a long day. you go to the gate with him and Wanda and Natasha are watching your every move. You ring the bell at the gate and later the main doors are open. Two people go out of the house, the older woman takes the boy from your hands and the younger takes the back pack. Redheads can't hear a thing but they can see you talking with the younger woman.

“I don't know how to thank you. He texted me half way throughout the day, how much he missed you and how much fun he is having.” Shuri is so genuine with you, she always was, pretty tough sometimes, but always real, and you respect that.

“You know I love this boy, he is family.”

“And you are ours Yn. You have always been, and you will always be a part of this family.” These cheesy moments between you two is not something any of you are used to, even when you were together,” i love you” sounded more like a, “bye i see you later”, rather than “my heart is with you every second when we are apart”. Romanticizing your life much? Maybe, but how can you not, when you want to survive in this world, with your heart intact. Shuri hugs you for a goodbye, and gives you a light kiss on the cheek, which does not go unnoticed by your dates.

“I don't like it, Wanda.”

“Would you calm down Nat? You did everything today to push her away, and each moment I've been trying to fix the situation that YOU created, you were shutting me up.” That accusation is shocking for Natasha, and she will not back down from defending herself, even if it's coming from her wife. She almost starts talking again, giving her piece of thoughts on the topic, but she sees you walk away and that takes priority at this second.

“We are going to talk about it at home.” She points her finger at Wanda, her voice sounds like flowing out through clenched teeth, and she is definitely not agreeing with Wanda. She doesn't even point out to her wife what's happening, she just goes out of the car and walks fast after you, Wanda confused but right at her heels.

“And where do you think you’re going?” The force with which you turn around makes Natsaha stop immediately. Your eyes are dark, your jaw is clenched, as well as your fists.

“Natasha, calm down!” Wanda joins you at the side of the road, it's really quiet in this neighborhood, the only sound slicing the silence is the roaring of the car that was left with the engine running. You pinch the bridge of your nose, irritation, exhaustion, this feeling of wasted day get to you, overstretching your patience to the fucking limits. You don’t care, you can’t find in yourself to care, and your promise was fulfilled. You respect and love Carol, but it doesn't mean that you have to feel the same way about her friends.

“What are you, five?” This is definitely not something they expected of you. Even everything they have heard about you, always patient, collected, good, the view in front of them doesn't fit any of this.

“How dare you deciding about my day, my plans, and using feelings of a little boy to get me to do something, just because your fucking ego is bruised?” Natasha makes a step to your direction, bringing her finger up to defend herself and her wife.

“No! I'm not done!” Taken aback she doesn't interrupt you. As horrible Wanda feels about making you feel this way it's really interesting for her to see someone putting her wife into place.

“For the whole day you are talking so much, about wanting to get to know me, getting close to me, but you did absolutely nothing to make me feel comfortable in your presence. When you gave me the ride, seeing the position i was in, i though, just for a second, this can be good, we can try this out, and then…then you took your fucking place and made me feel like i have no say in my life.”

“You are being so dramatic Yn! We gave you and this boy a great day, you should be grateful!” Natasha had enough.

“I have a test tomorrow, an article to edit, and three essays to write, that should be done by now. And no, I don't have a second deadline, I don't have more time, and I will have to stay up all night, without sleep to get everything done on time. In the morning I have work, then a test at university and then my shift at the bar! You thought I had thirty minutes with you for fun? If that means that im being dramatic then fucking yes, I am dramatic!”

“You are working too much.” Wanda comments with this horribly soft voice of her, condescending reasoning, like it's so simple for her, like she can solve all your issues, if you are just willing to give them all control over your life. You scoff at her like she said something funny. Natasha takes out her wallet, and takes out two thousand in cash, you never saw this amount of money in cash, well maybe once when you were working in black.

“Is this enough to buy your time? Your pride? Is that enough for you to get over yourself and let someone take care of you or at least fucking try?” She steps close to you, so close that you feel warmth coming from her body, creating too much of a contrast with the weather, you feel sick. Wanda grabbed her wife's hand, but it wasn't enough to stop her from speaking a couple words too much. You look at the money in Nat’s hand. Couple of papers that would solve your issues for at least two months, something that means nothing to her, that she has too much of, something that would save you. The control that it has over you is not fair, but life isn’t fair, it never was, it never will be, and you are highly aware of it. You look her in the eyes, and you grab at the last bits of your control, pride you have for yourself, those bits of respect that you are trying to save.

“You ignorant fuck, you really dont get any of this do you? Fuck you Natasha.” You leave them and start your long way home, this was a mistake, and you are glad that it's over, finally you can focus on yourself again. All they did since the day you met them is make your life fall apart with every way imaginable. It's good that it's over Yn, you tell yourself and enter the subway, already starting writing your first essay on your phone, the topic power laughing at you, as the universe decided that you are its best comedy.

Next chapter

tag list : @autorasexy @lizziejolsen @natashaswife4125 @sayah13 @romanoffskisser @lijo-8 @jjiiuuisssagcebrcw @natashaswife4125 @dumbassbitchwithnotits @teenybean, @marvelwomen-simp, @ripofflizzie

#stonemags #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #marvel #shuri x reader #darcy lewis #darcy lewis x carol danvers #carol danvers #wandanat fic #sugar baby au #sugar mommy

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commsroom · 10 months

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i think it's worth noting how individualism and the "big picture" in wolf 359 are not opposite ideas, but in service of the same goal: people that serve systems, rather than systems that serve people. goddard's recruitment tactic (in its moderately less coercive form) is an appeal to meritocracy and exceptionalism. a once in a lifetime opportunity to be part of something, to matter. it's a lie, of course. but that's the promise.

goddard futuristics and the dear listeners are parallel forces with compatible goals. cutter's proposal is a humanity without humans (save for the select few, like him, who get to make the choices), and that's perfectly acceptable to the dear listeners, who have no concept of the individual. the dear listeners are the only truly non-human characters in wolf 359, and they're narratively presented as a hollow reflection of humanity - borrowing eiffel's voice + appearance, unable to understand music - the ability to replicate, but not create. i think the implications are pretty clear, in the context of wolf 359's anti-corporate themes.

back to goddard's recruitment: minkowski wants to prove herself, to be in command, but she's initially too caught up on doing things the right way to be a leader for the people around her. the only tip in the dssppm she forgets is the one about effective communication. even her musical: hera is the only one willing to take part, and minkowski will only give her a small role. hilbert is a scientist who seems to believe he alone can revolutionize medicine, with no outside input or cooperation. of course, he not only fails, but his research results in further harm. goddard selects for people with this type of self-centered ambition... and also for people who are deeply isolated. eiffel and hera were not recruited through flattery. they're company property, and they've always been aware that their 'choice' was either 'agree to this' or 'we'll make things worse for you until you agree.' even with such a small crew, this creates an underclass, and a very pointed attempt at division of interests. and explains a lot about s1 dynamics.

which isn't to say eiffel and hera don't have their own problems re: communication. goddard's AI program is inherently isolating and pushes for ruthless competition under threat of death. hera isn't used to being able to trust people, and is extremely reluctant to accept help, even while she's suffering. eiffel, as the communications officer, is an advocate for communication and an effective mediator, but he's also extremely self-centered. it's very purposeful that eiffel's part of shut up and listen is paralleled by maxwell's logs about the dear listeners: "i've spent so much time thinking about how we're going to get a message across, and i haven't been thinking at all about reception. but what if the first challenge is figuring out how to listen? how much have we already missed?"

wolf 359 is a show that highly values the individual, personal identity and personal connection, but with the condition that connection is key. every person matters, but no one can make it alone. at the heart of the show, what you have is a group of very willful, very disparate personalities who have to learn how to see beyond their own assumptions and understand each other as full people with their own lives and desires and interiority - and then learn to move forward together. ultimately, it all comes down to that exchange between hilbert and eiffel: "you did not beat me. you needed help from AI, from minkowski." / "uh, yeah. it's called being part of the crew. you ever meet anyone that could get things done all on their lonesome?"

#wolf 359 #w359 #had to get this out of my head while i'm still thinking about it

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warning-heckboop · 4 months

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The Day the Trolls' Music Died (and then Came Back Again)

Okay, so I've been thinking about the events of World Tour again, especially the scene in which Poppy destroys the strings and all members of all the tribes go grey. The question that I've seen quite a few people ask, including myself, is how did this event effect the trolls who weren't present at the concert at the time.

Now, before Band Together, there wasn't really any particular reason to assume that there were any trolls, of any tribe or smaller subdivision, who weren't at the concert, because Barb's plan explicitly involved gathering all known trolls to ensure that all types of music other than rock were eliminated. Of course it can always be assumed that there would be a few stragglers out there, but the thing that changed with Band Together was the confirmation that this was in fact the case. At the time, there were at least three individual trolls on their own (at least in terms of not being around other trolls) in John Dory, Bruce, and Floyd, and then a whole community in Viva, Clay, and the Putt-Putt trolls.

So lets say they all went grey as well when the strings were destroyed (there is an argument that they wouldn't've been affected, considering the explosion that happened when the guitar was smashed that took everyone's colors away only seemed to have a range of the stadium, but I'm going to proceed under the assumption that the effects were even farther reaching than that). Obviously it would have been a big shock, and confusing as all hell, but that's not my focus here. What I'm wondering about is how they got their color back.

Sure, we can just say they automatically got their color back suddenly with all the other trolls during the big glitter explosion that the leaders caused, but where's the fun in that? I'd prefer to think they got their color back gradually--and that they experienced the same realization that their color, their music, their life comes from inside them. When Poppy and Branch's heartbeats glowed to life, so did their siblings'.

But let's back up a little. My focus is mostly based on family bonds, and this is largely because of the first trolls at the concert who realize they still have music inside of them. If you haven't seen the movie in a while, it's not Poppy or Branch like you might expect. It's Cooper, who is then joined by Prince Darnell, and then also by King Quincy and Queen Essence.

This is something I threw together based on my train of thought. Cooper's heart is the first to come to life. When he then lets it play over the speaker system, any of the trolls present, including Miss-Main-Character Poppy, could have been the one to react to it and see that it was music. But it wasn't anyone--it was his brother. Cooper's light lit the light in Darnell's heart, and then both brothers making music together lit their parents' hearts as well, allowing the Queen and King to be the first two trolls to acknowledge the fact that the trolls all still had music within them. The way I see it, these trolls all have a sort of connection between them, because they're family. Strings connecting them, so to speak. That's why they don't need the six strings to give them music anymore--because the ability to create music now comes from the strings of their relationships with one another.

Cheesy, I know. But it's a kids movie. Stick with me.

So how does this apply to the trolls not at the concert? Well, just because these other trolls weren't there physically doesn't mean they didn't have bonds to trolls who were there. For Viva and Brozone, they have Poppy & her dad and Branch, obviously, but even for the other Putt-Putt trolls, it's pretty likely most if not all of them had some connection to someone at the concert, considering they were all once members of the Pop tribe too.

So, just like how Darnell and his parents were drawn to respond to Cooper's actions, I think these other trolls would be drawn to action by the trolls they have connections with, too--because bonds of family can't be severed, not completely, by time and distance.

When Poppy finally starts to sing, I think Viva does, too. They're hundreds of miles apart, but their hearts still beat together as one, and so too do their voices sing out. The same goes for Branch and his brothers, too, and all the other trolls who had connections to those back at the concert.

And so, through the same song, all of troll-kind, everywhere, got their color back--even if many of them couldn't truly understand what had even happened until much, much later.

(Bit of a shame, though, really. If Floyd had stayed grey, maybe Velvet and Veneer would have just seen him as useless and let him go. Ah well.)

#long post #trolls #trolls world tour #trolls band together #trolls brozone #trolls poppy #trolls branch #trolls john dory #trolls bruce #trolls clay #trolls floyd

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jacevelaryonswife · 11 months

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Do you need help, neighbor?

Tom Bennett was a problem you should avoid, but why was he everything you thought?

∴pairing: Tom Bennett x Fem!Reader

∴warnings and a note: kissing and flirting, also, english is not my first language. This story is a continuation of “Do you need help, ma’am?”, but I tried to make it understandable without having to read the previous part. 2,8k of words.

part one | other characters from ewanverse

It had been a short time since you moved to Manchester. Your house was nothing chic or modern, but the neighborhood was well located and quiet, everything a young woman needed. You didn’t used to leave the house much besides work and grocery store, worried about not generating rumors about your life to others, especially because you’re a woman who lived alone, without parents, husband and children. What could be worse than becoming a reason for lies and gossip?

There were worse things than that in fact, such as experiencing the war that was currently taking place, it was terribly scary for you to imagine a sudden Nazi invasion, but if it was already horrible just to think about it, imagine being present in all horror? You felt sorry for your neighbor Douglas Bennett for dealing with the constant fear of losing his youngest son to such brutality. He was a good man and a helpful neighbor, as was his daughter Lois, who became a good friend of yours over the weeks. Both facilitated your adaptation in the new home and were so kind.

That's why that day you decided to thank them for such generosity by making a dinner at your house. You knew that their financial condition wasn’t the most favorable, so you insisted that they didn’t worry about taking anything since your salary was enough to cover your expenses. But then, a peculiar event happened earlier, and his name was Tom Bennett.

When your sink had problems a few days ago you thought it would be fleeting, however, the insistence of the small leak in the lower siphon was starting to bother. Accordingly, you decided to turn to Mr. Douglas for help, but to your surprise, in front of his door — next to yours — was another younger Bennett, dressed as a sailor and holding a cage with a small bird. From then on, things became confusing, hot and daring. Tom Bennett not only solved the situation of your sink but also kissed you like no man had done before. He was a total menace!

You knew that this shouldn’t have happened, mainly because you were a respectful and single lady (and especially because you just met him), but all you thought about throughout the day was his lips on yours, hands running your body and sharp words in your ears. Unfortunately, you haven't stopped remembering what happened throughout the day...

"A pretty thing like you don't have a ring on your finger, were you waiting for me, ma'am?" he smiled maliciously.

While going to the local grocery store to buy some ingredients that were missing for dinner.

"What kind of thanks would you like to receive, Mr. Bennett?"

His smile wideened as he leaned his hand on the table behind you, very close to your waist. "One that only a man and a woman could do."

While cutting the onions and cooking the potatoes.

"This was surprising, miss, I didn't know you had all this," he provoked with his little side smile, hands, which were previously fixed on your hips now circled patterns around your waist. "But I would love to know more where this came from," he whispered close to his lips, returning the tightness in his body.

While going to the bathroom to pee (yes, you read this).

In fact, Tom Bennett was a problem you should avoid, but why was he everything you thought?

Fortunately Lois interrupted what could happen earlier, luckily for you Tom cooperated in the situation. If she suspected something she didn’t let it appear on her smiling face, but previously, in one of the many gossips in your kitchen, Lois commented on the reputation of her younger and rebellious brother, he was a problem boy with a good heart. And great lips and big hands too...

God, you were in trouble!

However, just as there was a chance of him appearing the opposite was also possible, and you counted on it, because it would be easier to pretend that nothing happened without him being present with that little shitty smile. You left the bread in the oven to keep it warmer while organizing some things in the living room and went up to take a relaxing bath on your day off. You put on a beautiful and modest blue dress with a pair of pearl earrings that matched your necklace, in addition to applying a little makeup to highlight your beauty (and for him to appreciate if he accompanied his family, which you hated!).

One wave of nervousness flooded your body after going down the stairs and sitting on the couch, waiting for them while pinching some cookies before dinner. Intentionally your mind wandered and began to imagine him on top of you right there, exchanging scorching kisses with each other.

Your thighs tightened for a second before the touches came from the door. It was them. You almost jumped off the couch and adjusted your dress before taking a deep breath and looking through the crack of the window to see if...

The bastard came! And I still had that damn smile!

How handsome he was... damn it!

You opened the door with a discreet smile, looking naturally at all three at the same time.

“Oh, hi! Lois, you didn't have to bother!" You said when you saw the medium lane she was holding, making room for the Bennetts to enter.

“I know, I know, but we didn't want to come with nothing and it's just a simple pie,” she smiled openly at you.

“Mr. Bennett, good night,” you greeted him with a handshake, then looking at the tallest (and most beautiful) Bennett without knowing how to greet him. Would Tom be too informal? Would Mr. Bennett be repetitive? You didn't know, so you decided to be simpler: "Hi, welcome."

“Thank you, miss,” he smirk with pout.

"Where do I leave that?" Lois asked, attracting your attention from the piece of bad path in front of you.

"In the kitchen," your voice failed a little, in the fortunately they didn’t seem to notice. You smoothed the dress before guiding them to the dining table, keeping yourself in front of and away from the sailor (who wore a gray sweater and pants in the same tone).

“The smell is amazing! Did you make bread?" She asked excitedly.

"Yes I did, I hope you like it." You put the soup pot in the center of the table along with the bread pan, without realizing that the moment you bowed over the stove your rebellious neighbor looked at your ass covered by the dress. A lovely and seductive little thing, according to him.

“It's nothing compared to what you did for me at that time, but thank you,” you looked between Douglas and Lois, sitting at the table after distributing the dishes and cutlery.

"Oh, it's not for that much!" She said before guiding you in a quick prayer. “Amen,” he echoed in unison.

And then, you felt a soft smoothing on your leg with a firm material like a shoe. On the other side of the table, right in front of you, he was with a cheeky and discreet smile. Bloody hell! Would be a long night.

“So, you have already met,” Douglas said to you and your son with a pleasant face.

Before Tom could reveal anything, you anticipated his answer. "Yes, he fixed my sink earlier, he was very kind."

“I'm sure so,” the eldest replied as he looked at his son, seeing his fun feature. So far the most feared Bennett was in a comfortable silence, but he decided to change things (to your concern).

“It's a sin to deny help to a beautiful lady,” he brushed your leg again under the table.

“Oh!” That's all you sketched in false animation.

"Don't mind him, Tom is very talkative, I don't know how you didn't get tired," Lois said, "and by the way, the soup is delicious."

Your response and that of the sailor were synchronized:

“Thank you!”

“Hm, I think she appreciated my company much more than you think,” he smirk.

You wanted to melt into the chair with what Douglas and Lois could think about the statement, so you pushed his leg away when he tried to reach yours again and countered: "he's pretty funny," you kicked him lightly.

Luckily for you, the silence that followed while you ate was quite comfortable, but not long lasting. A few minutes later Lois was responsible for being the magnet that brought things together. “So, how is the job with Mrs. William?”

“Good, it's close to home and the payment is good,” you replied.

“Do you work there? With the father or the son?" Tom asked, obviously curious.

It was a small accounting office run by a family, fortunately they needed extra help and ended up hiring you, but that was before you moved, which made it easier for you to get around.

“With both of them, actually, and Lisa,” you replied.

Taking advantage of the brief distraction of his family, Tom moved his lips in a dirty phrase without sound towards you: "naughty girl,"

When did your kitchen get so hot?

You hated being affected so easily by him, but how to resist those blue eyes and perfectly outlined pink mouth? What about his beautiful face and thin arms and attractive height? And the most aggravating thing: that damn uniform of before.

Another comfortable silence was established, luckily for you. Douglas and Lois spoke a few words about the bread and soup before starting a pleasant conversation about general matters. It was good to get together and entertain yourself with them — something that was needed when living alone.

Until a question made everything change.

“May I use the bathroom?” Tom asked.

"Of course, it's upstairs, but there's a problem with the door and sometimes it ends up getting stuck, if you need help just call," you said.

“Oh he knows, we were talking about the time I got stuck here the week before last,” Lois commented casually, being more revealing than Tom and you could expect.

It went unnoticed at the moment, but when a call upstairs was heard following a "I'm stuck", you were forced to go to it.

"Don't worry, I'll go there."

Poor summer child.

Going up the stairs and stopping in front of the door, you thought how comical it was for him to need your help and decided to play a little about it. “Do you need help, neighbor?”

"I think so, "He replied and you almost swore to see his little smile through the door. "Are you alone?" He asked.

“Yes?”

And so, the door magically opened, just so that your body was pulled into the small and humid room by Tom. An almost scream escaped from your throat when because of the action, your eyes more open. "What are you doing?"

"Is this all for me, miss? I liked it a lot," he smirk seductively, holding your hips and holding you against the door.

"No!" You lied out of breath, holding his shoulders. Ugh, he was so tall and handsome!

"And who is it for? My father? Aren't you too young for him? It will be strange to call you stepmother,” he provoked, making his brow frown with the thought.

"This is not funny! Let me go! Your family is below us,” you tried to keep your voice down.

But the bastard hadn't finished with you yet. The thought of being stuck against the door with his big hands on your hips was dangerous and exciting, and totally welcome at another time, but not now.

"I know, but I couldn't stop thinking about you all day, about your smell, your pretty face, your soft mouth. I know you feel the same way, doll."

He came even closer to you, hovering over your lips with your confident and attractive posture.

“You’re quite convinced, Mr. Bennett,” you murmured, determined to contradict him (well, only vocally).

"And you like that," and then he kissed you sensually, without haste or speed, containing his hands from going down to your ass. Obviously you melted in his arms and returned the slow and demanding movement of the lips, holding around his neck. You wanted this so much. You loved to hate the confidence that Tom exhaled, but what if he was like that with everyone? He had just returned from a horror show, what if he regretted it? What if he didn't want anything serious? You didn't want to be used or badly spoken!

“Stop! We can't do that!" You pushed him away scared and almost ran out of the bathroom, thinking you had left him behind.

"Why? What happened? Didn't you like it?" He murmured right behind you. "Do you have anyone?"

"No!" Before he could ask more, you anticipated back to the table.

Fortunately, your breathing more accelerated than normal went unnoticed by your neighbors who dined calmly. Tom didn't bother you again, but he was restless about what could have happened, it was noticeable. When the pie was broken, you praised Lois' culinary skills and she just said she was the family's favorite, especially Tom's. You asked for the damn recipe — not because of him, but in case things went forward...

And yes, he wasn’t a man who gave up easily, especially a pretty little thing like you, so after his sister and you washed the dishes and everyone got together to talk on the couch, he made a point of sitting next to you. He wanted to be seen by you. It was inevitable that the matter was directed to war, since not only him but Lois was in direct (in the case of himself) and indirect contact with the conflict. He didn't want to keep reliving that in his mind, he just needed a good moment of comfort in the arms of a beautiful woman. You weren't married and certainly found him attractive, so what was the problem?

Tom would do everything to find out why; so, late at night when his father and sister were further ahead on the sidewalk, he touched his pocket and pretended to miss the lighter he was carrying with him.

“I can look for it,” you calmly suggested.

To his surprise, Lois' attitude was favorable to the situation, however, it made him wonder if she would be suspicious of something. “Let's go in dad, it's cold out here,” she said, opening the door of the house next door, their house.

And then, you allowed him to enter again, but remained on your back all the time. There were two options he could venture into, the first: circle your hip and flirt with you until he was embarrassed and shy, which was a delicious sight. The second, a more mature attitude than he used to have, was properly chosen.

“I would like to apologize for what happened before, if I did something you didn't like or wanted, it wasn't my intention,” he said carefully.

“Thank you.”

"... I just wanted to know what happened in the bathroom. Do you have someone or just didn't like the kiss?" He insisted.

"It's not that," you turned to face him, "I'm a single woman, Tom, without a husband or relatives, and I'm new here! I don't need people to say things about me."

"Who cares what the others will say?" He asked.

“I do! I care about it and I don't want a reputation that doesn't fit me. It's not appropriate, and we just got to know each other." You justified it. "You're very handsome and confident, annoyingly confident, but we can't do that, I don't want to have my feelings hurt."

"Do you think I would tell someone?" He asked even more seriously than before.

"I don't know, I don't know you."

"What if you know it? What if I am nothing less than a gentleman who will invite you to dinner without ulterior motives? What if I want to meet my beautiful neighbor properly?"

Your surprised look was quite expressive when you heard his question, breathing a little deeper than before. Would you believe his intentions?

"Do you want to get to know me or is it just a way to make me give in?" You asked.

"You’re tough in the fall, I truly appreciate it in a woman," he joked, sending a look full of flirtation (it was inevitable). "Let's do the following, go meet me and draw your conclusions, nothing will happen as long as you don't want to and I promise that whoever says something about your reputation will take some soups. What do you say?"

And then his mouth opened before closing again. "Only if you behave properly."

Oh boy, you wouldn't regret it. "It's a deal, miss."

═════════════════════

I’m thinking of doing another part of this.

for this story: @inechoingsilence @bellaisasleep

general taglist: @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @kravitzwhore @partypoison00

ewanverse taglist: @aemonds-fire @partypoison00 @schniiipsel @fan-goddess

#tom bennett #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett x you #ewanverse masterlist #ewanverse #tom bennett x female reader #tom bennett x fem!reader #fluffly #flirting #kissing #world on fire #ewan mitchell

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