#AND JUST SO YOU KNOW THIS IS ALL REGRESSED ME'S FAULT HE'S A LITTLE FREAK AND LOVES ANGST | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pookiepoodle · 3 years

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Finding out you’re a Little ft. Inarizaki

I don’t own any art (except the lovely swirly thing). Please check out my masterlist and send in requests. This is an age-regression piece, so expect that kind of content (all non-sexual). Aran’s involves diapers as a medical need.

Suna

You wanna watch cartoons after a long day of studying for your upcoming university exams.

Suna smirks a little but doesn’t say anything, shrugging as he pulls you up against his chest, the screen flashing with bright colors.

You don’t even notice the smirk and you can feel yourself growing smaller, your eyes shining as you giggle at the silly antics of the characters.

Now, Suna has a faint idea of what’s happening. He’s always on his phone so he sees a lot of different communities and right now, you’re reminding him of something.

“Ya know Princess, you’re acting really cute right now,” he begins, his hands wrapped around your waist as you stare at the TV. You feel rather small and you can’t help but giggle, snuggling back into his chest. Suna always makes you feel so safe, especially when you feel like this. Though, you don’t tend to regress in front of your boyfriend as he (at least in your mind) doesn’t know anything about your tendencies to do so.

“You feeling small?”

That question makes you sit up straight, the cartoons forgotten as you realise what Suna said. Suna knew. He knew you were an age regressor. There was no way he asked that and didn’t understand the implications of it. But… he wasn’t freaking out. He wasn’t grossed out or asking her to stop. So shyly, you nod, holding your breath as you wait for his response.

“Alright, how about we order some pizza for dinner and we just cuddle, keep watching your show?” he hums, making you smile brightly at the thought of having delicious pizza. But, even more so at the fact that your boyfriend knows you so well.

You’ll talk to him more about your age regression tomorrow, when you’re feeling bigger, but for now?

You simply cuddle him, watching your show with a happy heart.

Kita

You can’t stop staring at the coloring books during your weekly shopping trip at the grocery store.

Kita doesn’t say anything, letting you look over them all. He notices you keep going back to a specific one and will suddenly grab it, putting it into the cart.

You jump a little, blushing brightly when you realise that a) he caught you staring at children’s coloring books and b) he’s put it in the shopping cart, clearly intending to buy it for you.

Kita isn’t aware of what age regression is per say, so he simply thinks that you want to color.

“They also do adult coloring books, Y/N,” Kita says, pointing at some of the other ones, but you shake your head no. Those ones are too detailed, too finicky for when you’re little. You’ll only get frustrated and cry, so instead you prefer to use the ones meant for kids.

“That’s alright, do you need crayons or anything?” he continued, acting as if his girlfriend/boyfriend/partner wanting a kids coloring book was normal (AN: totally is).

“Kita, don’t you think it’s… weird?” you finally said, your voice small as you met his eyes. Kita was a straight-forward man and you expected him to be brutally honest with you.

“Why would it be weird?”

“Well… it’s a kids coloring book and I’m supposed to be Big-” you began, cutting yourself off at the last word. You’d meant to say adult.

“Big? Y/N, is everything alright?” Kita asks calmly, moving closer to you. You can feel his hand against the small of your back, a comforting gesture.

“Can… can we talk about it in the car?” you ask, trying to keep yourself calm. You knew it was time to tell Kita (you’d been dating for years now) but even so, it was a scary thought.

“Of course, we’re nearly done with the shopping,” Kita nodded, taking your hand as he led you to get the last few items. Throughout the process of paying and leaving the shop, you didn’t say a word to him, trying to figure out how to best tell him the truth.

“Just sit in the car, darling, I’ll load the shopping,” Kita insists, leaving you to twiddle your thumbs in the front seat, until you hear him get in next to you.

“Y/N, I don’t want to force you to tell me what’s going on, but I want to let you know that you can trust me.”

And with those words, you began to tell him everything about your little side, how you love to color and drink apple juice from your sippy. As you speak, he will ask questions as a lot of the terms you use are unfamiliar to him, but once you’re done, he gives you a small smile, reaching across to grab your hand.

“Y/N, when we get home, may I color with you?”

With a bright smile, you nod, relieved at how accepting your wonderful boyfriend is.

Aran

He finds your “protection” when he’s in your room.

He was really confused and tried to act like he didn’t see it, simply nudging the packaging further under the bed.

But you saw his eyes widen, his face grow red and you know that he knows.

With tears filling your eyes, you push him out your way as you run into the bathroom, locking the door as you sink to the ground, sobbing.

Immediately, he panics, trying the door handle but to no avail.

He has no idea what’s going on, but all he knows is that his beloved girlfriend/boyfriend/partner is upset and he just wants to comfort you.

You were a mess behind the door, sobbing your heart out as the events just kept replaying in your mind. He saw your “adult protection” which, let’s be honest, were just diapers. The fancy name always made you feel a little bit better when buying them, but now, it was just that. A fancy name for a humiliating product. There was no way that Aran wasn’t going to dump you.

“Y/N, please let me in!”

“No! J-Just g-go…”

“I’m not leaving until we talk about this, okay?”

Aran could be stubborn when he wanted to be and you realised that this was going to be one of those times. He wouldn’t leave until you talked to him, even if it took hours.

“C-Can we talk through the d-door?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” you heard him say, his tone gentle and reassuring as you try to pull yourself together.

You then proceeded to very shakily explain about your little space. Aran had his phone out and if he didn’t recognise a word, he quickly googled it as to not have to make you answer his questions. In little space, you sometimes had problems controlling your bladder at night and after waking up with wet sheets far too often, you’d decided it was best to get some form of protection. Once you’d finished speaking, there was a silence.

“I-It’s okay if y-you don’t w-want this, I g-get it…” you whispered, tears filling your eyes once more as you waited for Aran to agree.

“Why would I not want you?”

You immediately sit up, shocked.

“Y/N, I love you, a lot. I think it’s amazing that you’re able to find a way to relax and be happy, not everyone can do that. I think you’re adorable already, I can’t imagine how cute you are when you’re little. I’m so lucky, shoot, I’ve got the cutest girlfriend ever…”

“But what about… ya know…”

“The protection? Sweetheart, that’s not your fault. You’re so brave and smart and kind and amazing and I would be a jerk if I dumped you because of something as silly as that. Heck, I used to change my little sister’s diapers all the time, I’m not bothered by it.”

“I-I’m not asking for your help!”

“Ah, wait, I didn’t mean- like if you wanted or needed it, I’d love to take care of you, even if you need help with that, but only if you want to,” he panicked, bright red as he realised that he was probably being a bit too forward.

There was another pause before the bathroom lock clicked and the door opened.

“L-Let’s t-take it slow… but I’d l-like to watch a movie with you.”

Osamu

You were crying because your mom said she thought she accidentally tossed out your lovie/stuffie.

He was really confused because you were at Miya Onigiri and you just kept crying, so he immediately pulls you into the back room, glaring at the staff to keep them out as he just hugs you. You know that you’re regressing but you’re just in such a panic that you can’t really care, clinging to him as you babble, tears streaming down your face.

Instinctively, he wraps his arms around you, gently bouncing you on his knee as he pats your back, mumbling that,” Everything’s gonna be alright, Y/N, okay? Yer alright, just take a deep breath…”

After a while, you manage to calm down, though you’re still trembling in his arms as you catch your breath. Of course, Osamu isn’t the type to just let things like this slip and he will immediately ask if he can talk to you about it.

“Alright, we need to talk about what happened, Angel,” he sighs, shifting you on his lap so that you’re facing him properly, though he refuses to let you go.

“It’s not that big of a deal…” you mumble, your face now pink and tear-stained as you look away from him. You’d always tried to keep this side of yourself private but hearing that your Mom might have tossed out Bunny… Even thinking about it again was enough to make you tear up, which your boyfriend noticed immediately.

“It seems like a big deal to me,” he replied, moving to wipe away the fresh tears,” C’mon, Y/N, you know I don’t care if it’s embarrassing or something. Remember when I had to call ye because I got food poisoning and that bastard used all the toilet paper?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the memory, nodding as you let his thumb rub against your cheeks lovingly.

“So, please, I just wanna know,” he finished, giving you a pleading look.

So, you told him everything. He obviously had questions, interrupting you when you used terms he was unfamiliar with and when he just needed something clarified. You grew sadder when you started talking about your rabbit plushie, explaining what had happened and he hugged you to his chest gently.

“That’s awful, Angel, I’m real sorry,” he mumbled,” Listen though. I’m gonna learn more about this and if ya let me, I wanna be a part of it. I like taking care of ye already, so if yer willing to give me a chance, let me try, m’kay?”

You were so happy, you nearly started crying again as you nodded.

“How about helping me look for Bunny after work?”

And with a nod from Osamu, that’s how he became your Daddy.

(afternote: Bunny had fallen behind the bed and was found!)

Atsumu

You accidentally open the door with your paci in your mouth.

He notices it and smiles, wrapping his arms around you without even saying something, though he makes sure to close the door quickly so other people don’t see.

You don’t even realise that you’re wearing your paci until you move to give him a kiss, his hand moving to pull it out before giving you a small peck.

Immediately, you pull back, eyes widened as you try and grab the mouth piece back, humiliated.

Atsumu knows that look in your eyes and immediately gives it back, but not before grabbing your hand and dragging you to the living room, where he pulls you onto his lap for snuggles.

“So… nice paci,” he begins, watching you blush adorably as you hide it in your pockets.

“Thanks,” you mumble, unable to meet his eyes as you wish you could disappear right now or that a coconut would fall from the ceiling and hit Atsumu in the head. Just hard enough to wipe his memory of the last 10 minutes.

“Do ye use it a lot or just sometimes?” he asked. He wasn’t teasing you (as you had expected), seeming to be genuinely curious about your little habit.

“Umm… just sometimes, when I feel like it,” you continue, blushing, nervously playing with your hair as you try to keep calm.

“If ye wanna keep using it, go ahead,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You don’t think I’m a freak?”

“What? Has someone said something to you about it?!” Atsumu suddenly exclaimed, his eyes filled with fire. If anyone had teased you about this, he was ready to kick their ass.

“No, no! I was just wondering, most people think stuff like this is weird for an adult…” you mumbled, feeling self conscious. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t even feel Atsumu reaching into your pocket and grabbing your paci. At least, not until he gently pushed it into your mouth, making your eyes widen. You went to pull it out, but he stopped you gently holding it in place as he spoke.

“I think yer adorable, Y/N. I’m gonna do some more research n stuff, since I think I’ve heard about this, but only if ye want me to.”

You pause, thinking it over before gently nodding, making him smile brightly.

“Alright baby, lets just relax for now.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #little space #little reader #little space headcanons #haikyuu little space #suna x reader #kita x reader #aran x reader #osamu x reader #atsumu x reader

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justauthoring · 4 years

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No Reason To (44/50)

Prompt: “And I guess… when it comes down to it, I trust you.”

A/N: So, a couple days early! I couldn’t wait until Monday to post this chapter cause i’m so incredibly proud of it and I’m gonna be spending the weekend playing TLOU2, so there won’t be too many requests adn I hope this makes up for it :)

Also, because Tumblr is stupid, I added memories from past chapters as Y/N remembering Stiles in italic, but for so reason on mobile it switches between italics and not. I’ve broken it up though, so hopefully it’s not too confusing!

Nonetheless, I am incredibly proud of this chapter and I really hope you all love it as much as I do!

Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. As usual, I hope you all enjoyed!

AGAIN, remember if you’d like me to continue this series, just leave a little comment or an ask letting me know. I will NOT continue the series if no one wants me to.

Please don’t plagiarize my work!

Pairing: Stiles x McCall!Reader

Based off of: Teen Wolf 06x09 & 06x10

“So, how cold does this thing get?”

“Cold enough for a Hellhound,” Lydia explains with a puff of air, slightly breathless from both of you running around to make sure everything’s locked and prepped. “It’s not the same as the ice bath you gave Isaac but, it can lower your core temperature past anything a human can survive.”

“So, what does freezing our asses off have to do with our memories?”

“It’ll slow your heart rate,” Lydia explains to Malia with a breath, “and put you in a trance-like state.”

“Like hypnosis,” Scott adds, to which you nod.

“Hypnotic regression,” you agree. Then, slowly, you turn to large machine, swallowing thickly. “If we can figure out how to work it.”

Malia turns, glancing around before something catches her eye. “This says ‘start’,” she calls, pointing at the side of the machine. “So, maybe it not’s that complicated.”

Upon further glance, however, there’s a... lot of dials.

Meeting Scott’s gaze, you sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“So, optimistically,” Malia prefaces, “how much time do you think we need to do this?”

“As much time as Liam and Stilinski can buy us,” Scott answers, nodding at the three of you. Then, he turns, unlocking the latch before pulling open the door. It almost looks like a coffin, in a more technical, supernatural way.

Scott elected to go first.

And for that, you’re very thankful.

You blink in surprise as the machine starts to hum, clearly doing... something. It’s definitely on, that you know for a fact. Which means...

“Okay, it’s doing something,” Malia calls, meeting Scott’s gaze. “You ready?”

He meets your eyes briefly, as if for reassurance, which you offer the best you can, before nodding. He grabs hold of the door, stepping forward and into the machine, shutting the door behind him. You’re close behind him, waiting until you’re sure he’s completely in and ready, before locking the latch. He watches you carefully from within the machine as you do, and even though he tries to put on a brave face, you can tell he’s scared.

A little apprehensive, at the very least.

“Remember,” Lydia calls as you continue to lock and prepare a few more things. “This’ll get cold enough to kill you. So, if something feels wrong or like, it’s not working...--”

“It’s going to work,” Scott cuts in gently, voice muffled from behind the door. You frown at him, swallowing thickly.

“I hope you’re not saying that because you think I know what I’m doing,” you call, glancing over at your brother, before turning round to Malia and Lydia. “Or that any of us do.”

“I’m saying that because I know you can figure it out.”

His words are sure and, somehow, there’s no doubt in his gaze as he looks back at you. You only hesitate a moment longer, making sure that he doesn’t change his mind or get freaked out in the last second (which, you wouldn’t blame him for either) before moving to turning all the dials all the way round. There’s three, and you turn them quick before you change your mind yourself.

Almost instantly, Scott reacts.

“Oh, okay,’ he gasps, “all right, yeah, that’s cold. Really cold.”

Your eyes widen as the inside fogs up, blurring your image of Scott.

“So,” Malia speaks up, voice hushed. “What are we supposed to do? Talk to him? Help him remember? Wait till he turns into a werewolf freezy pop?”

Turning to Lydia with wide eyes, you wait for an answer.

“We need to guide him,” Lydia mumbles, nodding over at the both of you. “Keep him focused.”

They both look at you expectantly. And, even though you really have no idea what you’re doing, you step forward without fault. You inhale sharply before speaking, trying to get a good look at your brother. “Scott?” You call gently, but firmly, loud enough for him to hear you. “You have to think about him. Concentrate on Stiles.”

Through the fog, you watch as he nods.

“Try to picture him in your head.” Lydia adds, “think about what he looks like, things he said.”

The machine then hums, whirring.

“I don’t like this,” Malia calls instantly, shaking her head. “Something’s wrong.”

You move forward to stop it, but Lydia catches your arm, halting you. You turn to her in disbelief, but she simply keeps her gaze forward, head-on at Scott. “Wait,” she explains, “give it a few more seconds.”

“Lydia--”

You’re interrupted by a loud thump. Your attention is pulled in front of you at the sight of Scott slamming his hand up against the glass of the door, a gasp of pain, discomfort, something leaving his lips. You waste no time in stepping forward once more, worried and panicked for your brother, your hand reaching for the latch, “i’m getting him out of there,” but Lydia holds tight.

“Wait.”

You glance back at Scott, and you watch as his tense shoulders ease. His hand slowly pulls away from the door, and his face relaxes.

“Scott,” Lydia calls, “can you hear me?”

Slowly, his eyes flicker open and they’re glowing red.

But then his eyes start to weigh and you watch as his head lulls, as if he’s about to fall asleep.

“Scott,” you exclaim, pressing your hand on the door. “You can’t fall asleep. You have to stay awake.”

“I’m trying,” he mumbles, half-coherent.

“Wait,” you call after a moment, mind clicking with realization. “You’re not sleeping. I think you’re losing consciousness. And if you do that, I think we’re gonna lose you.”

“Scott!” Malia orders from next to you, her voice louder then your own. “Stay awake. Scott!”

His eyes flicker, his head rocks, but he doesn’t say anything. You watch with panic, concern, worry and all the above, heart racing, pounding madly against your chest.

But then he snaps awake, suddenly. His body stands straight, and he glances around, as if in search of something.

Someone.

“Scott. Try to find him.”

“Try...” You hesitate, thinking. “Try to find him in your memories.”

His eyes flicker every which way. His head shakes as if his mind runs a million miles per hour. He’s searching. Desperately searching. But Scott hasn’t found Stiles yet.

“Find him in any memory. Good or bad.”

And he starts to look panicked. Worried. Frightened.

“What’s happening to him?” Malia asks, panicked herself.

Lydia shakes her head; “I don’t know.”

“Well, he doesn’t look good,” you explain, “he looks... lost.”

“I think he is,” Lydia exclaims, frustrated. “I think maybe it’s too much information. Like, he’s getting buried under all the memories. Being overloaded by them.”

“So, what do we do to help him?”

“Did you hear that?”

You glance back, watching as Malia leaves your side and rushes over to door. She halts by it, hand hovering over the lock, her ear pressed against the door as she listens carefully.

“Thunder?”

Turning back to the both of you, Malia frowns; “maybe.”

Sighing, you turn back to Scott, your frown deepening at the distressed look on his face. He presses the palms of his hands against his ears, as if trying to block the noise from his head. You can’t even begin to imagine the amount of noise, memories more specifically, running through his head rapidly. Can’t even begin to imagine how that must feel.

“This isn’t working.”

“Then,” Malia says without hesitation, making her way back over to you and Lydia. “We have to figure something else out.”

“I know,” Lydia snaps, before easing. “I-I know.”

But Malia doesn’t relent, worried for Scott. “Is he gonna freeze to death in there?”

Frowning, you swallow thickly. “If his memories don’t kill him.”

“There has to be another way to do this,” Malia exclaims bluntly, turning to Lydia specifically. “Isn’t there?”

“I don’t know,” Lydia sighs, “this is my first attempt at trying to open a dimensional rift in space-time. So, i’m kind of fumbling around in the dark, okay?”

“Okay,” you call, trying to ease the tension. “It’s okay. Let’s just... think. We just have to think, okay?” You glance back and forth at the two of them, as if to make sure they’re at least trying to keep calm. It’s a lot harder then it looks. But then, something occurs to you.

Fumbling around in the dark.

That’s it.

“You’re not the only one.”

“What?”

“You’re not the only one fumbling around in the dark,” you explain, nodding over at Lydia, hoping she’ll understand what you mean..

“What does that mean?” Malia shakes her head at you.

But Lydia turns to you bright-eyed in understanding. “That’s exactly it, Y/N,” she nods at you.

“What?” Malia calls again, voice firmer in bafflement.

You turn to her with a nod. “I think we have to treat this more like actual hypnosis,” you explain, “they use images to guide you through memories. Like... a stairwell. Each step represents a new year. That’s how they regress you back.”

Malia’s eyes ease in realization. “I get it. So he needs to imagine something.”

“What do we tell him?” Lydia asks.

Pausing, you think for a moment, before stepping forward. “Scott?” You call gently, trying to grab his attention. “Can you hear me? Scott, listen. Imagine this.” You fumble for something. “Imagine you’re in the... high school. Visualize yourself in the high school, in the corridor where all the lockers are. Just try to imagine standing there. That’s where your memories are. They’re all in the lockers. They’re locked away behind each one.

“Every memory of Stiles is in a separate locker. Scott, you’re there. In the high school. You’re standing there now.”

And then, just as you finish speaking, his eyes snap open.

“It’s getting too cold.”

Your head snaps to Lydia at her words, before flickering your eyes up to the dial, lips parting.

Turning round to Malia, Lydia calls out; “he’s getting too cold.”

“What if it’s not enough to remember him?” She asks, baffling you at her words. “What if it’s some kind of a connection he’s supposed to make because of a memory?” Malia adds, your face easing with realization and understanding of what she means.

Lydia nods, “like an emotional connection?”

“That could be why it worked for Stilinski, right?”

Glancing back briefly at Scott, you nod; “he wasn’t just remembering something. He was remembering his son.”

Rushing forward, Malia calls out for Scott instantly. “Scott?” She calls gently, “Scott, can you hear me?” He doesn’t reply, but she continues anyway. “Listen, I remembered something. At the start of the year, Stiles said he was looking for a place for you guys to live after graduation.”

At the lack of response from Scott, she turns to the both of you panicked, asking for reassurance. You nod, quickly, eyes soft.

“He said you were getting an apartment together?” She recalls, voice doubtful. “And I remember saying something to Stiles. Something like... it’s not always a good idea to live with your friends. Even your best friend. But Stiles said it wouldn’t matter because you weren’t just friends.

“You guys were more like brothers.”

There’s a pause. Scott’s face eases, and you think it might’ve worked.

But then;

“His heart’s dropping.”

“What?”

“His heart rate is dropping, fast.”

“We have to get him out.”

“Quick, quick!”

“Get him out!”

Your fingers pull hastily at the latch, practically yanking the metal door open and just managing to catch Scott before he falls to the ground. You pull him round, meeting his eyes as he glances up at you in confusion, shaking his head. “What--What happened? Why’d you pull me out?”

“Your heart rate dropped,” you exclaim, shaking your head. “You were gonna die.”

Leaning forward, Malia nods; “we had to.”

Glancing back at the machine, Scott’s lips part. “But then,” he breathes, breathless. “But then, nothing happened, did it? It didn’t work.”

Malia tried. And it nearly worked.

Just... not enough.

You turn off the machine with a frown, turning all the dials back down to zero and locking the latch with a heavy click and a heavy heart. You really thought this would work. You thought Scott would be able to open the rift, and if not him, maybe Malia since Stiles was her anchor. But... it hadn’t. And you were two steps behind again.

“What are you doing?”

Turning to Scott with a frown, you shake your head; “it’s too dangerous,” you say simply. “We’re not going to save anyone by freezing you guys to death.”

“But it was working,” Malia reminds, voice firm, desperate. “Wasn’t it?”

“There was a light and a strange noise,” you explain with a shrug. “No Stiles.”

“But I can remember him now,” Scott argues, stepping towards you, letting his hands fall from Malia. “I can see him in my head.”

“So can I,” Malia nods.

“He’s more real now than he’s ever been.”

Brows furrowing at Scott, your lips part, trying to say something but not sure what.

“If we can bring Stiles back, we can bring everyone back.”

“There’s a huge difference in being a vivid memory and an actual corporeal human being,” Lydia explains for you, standing up beside you, to which you nod.

“I know,” Scott nods at Lydia, before turning to you, eyes never leaving your own. “Which is why I think it should be you.”

“I won’t last two minutes in there,” you say simply, shaking your head. You may be a witch, but you couldn’t heal and withstand the same things Scott and Malia could as werewolves and werecoyotes. That thing would kill you in seconds. It had nearly killed them.

“We’ll think of something else,” Scott says quickly, gesturing to Malia. “Malia’s right.” Then, his voice softens and so does his gaze as he meets your eyes firmly. “It’s all about the connection. When I was remembering him, I was also remembering the two of you together. I don’t think anyone had a connection like you guys.”

Lips parting, your shoulders fall. You’re... not sure what to say.

“I saw it, too,” Malia nods, looking solemn as she nods at you. “You have to try, Y/N.”

“But it nearly killed you two,” you whisper, “and it’ll kill me.”

“Well then,” Lydia speaks up, you turning to her in bafflement as she quirks a brow. “We have to do it the old-fashioned way. We’re going to have to actually hypnotize you.”

“My mother had a hypnotist who helped her quite smoking.”

You inhale sharply at Lydia’s story, glancing down at your hands, swallowing thickly.

“She had me see the same on when I was ten,” Lydia adds.

Scott turns to her, baffled. “You had to quit smoking when you were ten?”

“No,” she calls, appalled. “I bit my fingernails. Just find a lighter or a candle, please.”

Just then, Malia turns, a blowtorch in her hands. “Too much--?”

“--Found it!”

You glance over, eyeing the candle in Scott’s hands.

Lydia nods, and the three of them make their way over to you, at the table. Scott sets the candle down in front of you, Malia lighting it instantly, as you eye it nervously. Scott and Malia stay stood in front of you, watching you carefully, but Lydia takes a seat in front of you.

Meeting her eyes, you inhale sharply. “Is it scary?”

She instantly shakes her head, “you’ll be fine.” Then, she smiles softly, nodding. “I promise. Now, just... breathe. Take a deep breath.”

You listen without fault, inhaling deeply and slowly, trying to steal your nerves. Your shoulders fall as you do, and your face relaxes as you focus on calming yourself.

“Look at the candle.” Your eyes lower, falling on the lighted candle, licking your lips as you listen closely to the rest of Lydia’s words. “Feel the muscles in your body begin to relax. Your hands relaxing. Your eyelids relaxing.” At that, your eyelids fall shut, instinctively. Out of your control. Oddly, you don’t feel panicked.

You truly do feel relaxed.

“As you relax, imagine you’re sitting in your room.”

When you open your eyes, you blink at the sight of your bedroom. You’re sat on your bed, on the edge of it.

“In your lap is a photo album.”

Glancing down, you frown at the closed photo album held in your hands.

“Each photo holds a memory of your life. You can choose whatever photo you want to look at it. It gives you total control. All you have to do is turn the pages.”

Inhaling sharply, you slowly turn the page, and almost instantly, voices echo.

“Y/N... Are... Are you okay?”

And it’s almost like the picture comes alive before you.

You step forward, falling into Stiles’s arms. He doesn’t respond right away, almost as if surprised, then, his arms are curling around your waist, pulling you close.

The hug seems to last forever, but it can’t be more than a few seconds, before you’re interrupted by Jackson.

Turning the page slowly, you focus on the voices and the memory. Trying to stay calm. At ease.

A choked sob leaves your lips as your hands go to cover them. Shaking your head, you cry out; “i’m sorry,” taking a step back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-I-”

“Hey,” Stiles calls, keys falling on your counter, rushing over to you. He envelops you in his arms, holding you close as you move your arms around him, clutching onto the back of his sweater. You feel like a fool, acting so weak and letting your emotions get the best of you, but after spending a night in an empty house, without the comfort of your brother and mother and terrified that your father would come waltzing through the front door any second, you can’t help yourself. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you whisper, “I don’t… I don’t know what to do.”

Stiles pulls back, grabbing your face by the cheeks and pulling your eyes on his own. He looks just as rough as you, just as fragile, and it’s clear as day he’s putting on a brave face for the sake of you. “We’re gonna get them back, okay?” He whispers, “my father, your mother… it’s gonna be okay.”

“What if it’s not?” You question, shaking your head. “What if this time we fail? I mean, Scott’s with Deucalion. Deucalion…”

“We’re gonna find them,” Stiles says again, and you’re not sure if it’s to reassure you, or himself. Either way, the words to help calm your nerves just a bit.

“Stiles,” you call, “my father…-”

“We’re not worrying about your father right now, okay?” Stiles interrupts, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “I won’t let him near you. Not again.”

“Try to find a memory of Stiles.

“A memory where you felt a connection with him.”

“I’m sorry,” you say instantly, shaking your head. You force your body to ease, trying to ignore the slightly race in your heart. It hadn’t been Stiles’ fault, you repeat in your mind. He hadn’t had any control of his body and Void had done what he did best, cause chaos. He used your fears and Stiles’ against the both of you. “I’m sorry,” shaking your head, you sigh. “I shouldn’t have, I… I know that it wasn’t…”

“I hurt you.”

Your words halt, lips left parted as your eyes fall on Stiles’ own. He’s not staring at you, instead, staring down at his lap; at his hands.

“I… hurt Scott, I hurt Coach and so many others. But… I hurt you.”

“No,” you argue, shaking your head. “No, it was Void. Void did all of that stuff, not you, Stiles.”

“But it was my body,” he whispers, forcing the words out of his mouth. Slowly, he raises his gaze to meet your own, shaking his head. “It was my hands that stabbed Scott. My hands that set up the trap that hurt Coach and the bomb that blew up the police station. It was my hands that wrapped around your throat.”

It’s obvious Stiles is staring at your neck, tears in his eyes as he shakes his head.

“God, he… after everything with your father and then I–”

Taking Stiles’ hand in your own, you squeeze it tightly, keeping your gaze trained on his. “It wasn’t you.”

“It was Void,” you mumble, the words leaving your lips unconsciously. “It... It wasn’t you. Wasn’t... Wasn’t... you--”

“Find another memory,” Lydia cuts in, words echoing. “Keep looking for Stiles. Find another memory”

“Don’t ever do that again... I thought... I thought I’d lost you.”

You turn the page.

“I’m gonna go talk to my dad. I just gotta go talk to my dad.”

And another.

“I know that, uh, holding your breath could stop a panic attack. When I kissed you... you held your breath...

And another.

“I’ll always come back. I promise.”

And then...

You blink, and you’re in Stiles’ jeep.

“Y/N...”

“That’s when I remembered...”

Lydia, Malia and Scott blink, hoping flickering in their eyes.

“When... When I realized...”

“I’m going to be erased, okay?” You can’t say anything, your head shakes and your lips part, but you’re stunned silent. “Just like Alex. You’re gonna forget me.”

“No,” you cry, the word just spilling from your lips. “No, I… I won’t. I couldn’t forget you, Stiles.”

“Y/N… you will.”

“Y/N? What? What did you realize?”

“I tried to convince myself,” you mumble, eyes sliding open, slowly, lips parting. “I tried to pretend that I wasn’t...”

And you blink at that, heart breaking at the fact that he’s right.

“Just… try to find some way to remember me, okay?” His hand slips into your own again, threading his fingers through your own, gripping onto you tightly, firmly. “Remember… that it’s always been you… Remember that it’s never been anyone but you, from the first minute I saw you…”

Swallowing thickly, you let the words sink in, never tearing your gaze away from Stiles. These are the words you’ve been wanting to hear for months, wanting to know if you’re feelings for Stiles were one sided. If you were still the one he loved…. and now that you are hearing them, he’s about to be taken away from you.

“Remember that you saved my life.”

Lips parting, you whisper; “you saved me life too…” And then you shake your head, small, stiffly, and you feel your eyes water. “Countless times…”

He’s silent for a moment, gazing back at you, as if taking it all in for the last time. And then,

“Wasn’t what, Y/N?”

“Just remember… Remember that I never stopped loving you and…” He blinks, eyes never wavering from your own. “I never will.”

“Still in love with him.”

There’s an echo of silence, and then, he’s being ripped from you.

Meeting Scott’s gaze, you swallow thickly; “That I wasn’t still in love with Stiles.”

“Y/N...”

“I was there,” you cry, words choking. “I was there. I was the last person to see him.”

Lydia leans forward; “where? Y/N, where?”

“The Ghost Riders,” you explain with haste, eyes blurring as tears stream down your cheeks. “They... When they took him...”

Remember...

The candle burns out. And it’s silent.

Then, “I never said it back...” Swallowing thickly, you shake your head at Scott, biting your lip. “I never told him that...”

There’s an echo of silence, then, a rumble echoes. It intensifies by the moment, rumbling the entire ground beneath you.

Slowly, you stand up, making your way over to the door. You slowly unlock it, pulling up the latch, and then the door. Your lips part, eyes widening when you notice the bright light.

It’s the rift.

Rushing forward, you slow to a stop and you swear... you swear you see Stiles.

On the other side.

But... But right in front of you.

“Stiles?”

That night...

That was the night I realized...

I tried to convince myself, lie to myself...

that I wasn’t in love with you.

But I was.

I am.

I’m in love with you, Stiles.

“I can see you, Stiles! Don’t stop!”

Your hand reaches out before you, your feet inch forwards, because you can see him. See his outline. His figure. And you know it’s Stiles; without a doubt that it is. And he’s so close you can almost touch him, Almost reach out for him.

“Keep going! Stiles, keep going!”

But then, the light fades, and so does Stiles.

Your hand falls back down to your side, and it feels as if your heart is breaking.

“Stiles?”

But there’s no response..

“Y/N...”

You shake your head at your brothers voice, swallowing thickly. “Where is he?” And then you turn, spinning round to face your brother and your friends, nodding quickly and hastily. “It was working,” you explain. But you falter when you see the looks on their faces. “You... You saw him, right?”

With a sympathetic look in her eyes, Malia shuffles forward; “we didn’t see anyone.”

“No,” you argue, biting your lip as you turn back towards the tunnel. “He was here. I know it...”

A hand falls on your arm, and slowly turning your head back, you frown at Lydia through blurred eyes. You swallow thickly, trying to hold back your tears; your desperation whilst she simply just squeezes your arm, trying to offer any comfort she can.

All you can manage is the bleak mumble of; “Stiles was here.”

They help guide you back inside the room, making sure to keep a close eye on you.

And while you appreciate the support, you don’t notice it, your mind occupied with other thoughts. You found yourself doubting yourself again, because no one else had seen what you had. Not Malia, not Lydia and not even Scott. You were the only one. And it made you wonder if you were going crazy, if you had just imagined it all because you were so desperate to have Stiles back.

But you know you saw him. You know you did. And you swear you heard his voice, so...

“Liam!”

Spinning round at your brothers voice, your brows furrow at the sight of the younger boy. You would’ve thought he’d be taken. Like everyone else.

“There’s something you need to see.”

“You’re still here...”

“Yeah, but everyone else is gone,” Liam pants, shaking his head. “All of them. They’re all gone. Look, you have to come with me.”

Shaking his head, Scott’s brows furrow in confusion. “What is it?”

“I can’t explain it,” Liam stammers, “I have to show you.”

“Uh, all right,” Scott stammers, turning back to look at the three of you. “You guys stay here. Just in case.”

You just nod, numb. But Malia speaks up; “in case Stiles comes back?” And her words catch you by surprise, glancing over at her before meeting your brothers eyes who nods firmly at you.

“If there’s any hope,” he explains, “you need to keep trying.”

Your brows furrow when Malia rushes forward, not even a few minutes after Scott’s left, and opens the door.

Lydia seems just as confused; “what are you doing?”

She turns back to the two of you with a smile. “We’re gonna go find Stiles.”

“Scott told us to stay in case he shows up here.”

“Stiles isn’t coming here,” Malia argues gently. “If he was, he would’ve, and he hasn’t, so he’s not.”

Stepping forward, you bite your lip. “You believe me?”

Never wavering her gaze from your own, Malia quirks a brow in question. “You still think it worked, right?”

You nod without hesitation, “I know I saw him.”

“And I trust you,” Malia encourages, “you’re always right.”

Pursing your lips, you hesitate; “I wouldn’t say always.”

Shaking her head, Lydia steps forward; “but, right now?”

Meeting her eyes, then Malia’s, you nod, slowly. “Right now,” you begin, “I’m not wrong. Stiles is out there, I can feel it.”

“Then,” Malia grins, “what are we doing standing here?”

“These look fresh.”

“It’s from Stiles jeep,” Malia explains, “it must’ve just left here.”

Lydia pauses, brows furrowing. “Without his keys?”

You shake your head; “half the time he got it started with a screwdriver, so...”

“Then, he’s here,” Lydia nods, “we have to tell Scott.”

You glance over at Malia, but her gaze is caught on something else. Slowly lowering to help you up to your feet, Malia keeps her gaze ahead, frowning. “We should probably tell Scott about that, too.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, but a simple glance in the direction she’s looking and you understand.

There’s... train tracks in front of the school yard, leading into the school itself. Which just makes absolutely no sense. And definitely doesn’t mean anything good either.

Eyeing the many people sat in the library, now apparently a train station, your heart falls with the realization that the Wild Hunt was a lot further into turning Beacon Hills into a Ghost Town then you thought.

“Why is there a train station in the middle of the library?”

Turning to Malia, you sigh; “there’s also a train station in the Wild Hunt.”

“Any chance they’re connected?”

Stepping forward, you shake your head. “I would say high,” you begin, before glancing back at her and Lydia. “Like a hundred percent.”

The two follow after you quickly, though you’re not really sure where you’re headed or what you aim to do. It’s mainly the blind leading the blind.

“If there’s a train station,” Malia continues, “then there’s probably a train.”

Spinning around to the two of them, you meet Lydia with a similar look as her face falls with realization. “And if there’s a train,” she begins, “it’s going to the Wild Hunt.”

Turning around to the crowd of people, you swallow thickly; “they’re all going to be taken.”

“We can’t let them be taken.”

Malia’s face falls with panic and stepping forward, her mind races for a plan. “Um,” she mumbles, before raising her voice so everyone can hear her. “Okay. Listen up, everybody. We’ve all got to get out of here. We gotta go right now.”

Glancing round, no one moves. Or even really acknowledges Malia.

“It’s bad! We have to go!”

Stepping in front of someone, you crouch to meet their eyes; “hello!” She doesn’t move. Like, at all.

“Uh, hello? Sir!” Malia calls to another man, Lydia trying the same thing to another person. No one responds to either of you. At all. “How do we get them to leave if they can’t hear us?”

“Uh...” Lydia mumbles, before something -- or rather someone -- catches her eyes. “Maybe there’s someone who can.”

Following her line of direction, your eyes widen at the sight of Peter.

“Peter!”

Pressing a hand against your forehead, you watch Malia uselessly snap her fingers in front of her father’s face. It clearly does nothing. As everything else she’s tried does nothing.

“Malia.”

“What?”

“The only way we were able to break through the Hunt,” Lydia begins to explain, “is with an emotional connection.”

Malia sighs, shoulders falling with defeat. “Dang,” she whispers, “wish I could help.”

Meeting Lydia’s eyes, you sigh, before stepping forward. “Malia,” you call, voice firm, clear on what you mean.

She seems to understand quickly. And instantly, she shakes her head. “I’m not saying it,” she argues, determined. “I’m not saying it.”

“Okay, well,” Lydia shrugs, spinning round to walk the other way. “I guess everyone dies.”

Letting out a growl, Malia halts Lydia.

Turning to the former, you meet her eyes with a reassuring glance. “It’s okay,” you whisper, smiling gently. “You’ve got this.”

She only hesitates a moment longer, inhaling deeply, letting her eyes fall shut as she tries to prepare herself. Then, slowly glancing down at Peter, the word leaves her lips; “dad.” But not at all in the way you or Lydia meant it to. “Dad. Dad.”

“Say it like you mean it.”

Slowly crouching in front of Peter, Malia takes deep breaths. You don’t say anything, giving her the moment she needs to muster the courage to say it. It might just be a short and small word, but you understood probably better then most how hard it is to accept the man that’s supposed to be your father as your actual father. After everything he’s done.

And that’s why you understand how hard it is for Malia.

“Dad.” She whispers, voice soft, desperate. “Please wake up.”

He drops the newspaper, his eyes shifting. They become less distant.

Malia turns to you and Lydia with hope in her eyes, slowly standing up just as Peter does himself. Then, still silence echoes, uncertainty, and then, you watch as the edges of Peter’s lips curve upwards.

“Attention, all passengers, the train will be arriving in twelve minutes.”

You watch as all the passengers get up, circling around the four of you. Their feet seem to just lead them, having no real control over their bodies.

“Me?” Peter speaks up, pulling your gaze on him as he gestures to himself in disbelief. “You want me to stop them? You know how many there are?”

“Yeah,” Malia nods, “a lot of them. So get going.” Stepping forward, she grabs his arm, pulling him off his seat on the bench.

“There are hundreds of waiting rooms in this train station,” Peter explains, whilst letting Malia pull him. You and Lydia follow closely behind. “Which apparently now also serves as a high school library. It’s impossible.”

“We can try.”

“Where do you get this implausible optimism?”

“Definitely not from my father.”

Shaking your head, you rush forward, breaking the two apart. “We don’t have time for this,” you remind, grabbing onto Malia’s arm to pull her attention on you. “We need someone to just hear us.”

“I think we already did.”

It takes you a moment to process Peter’s words, and when you do, your eyes widen at the sight of a Ghost Rider right in front of you.

“We have to go!”

“But--”

Pulling Malia with you, you meet her eyes with a shake of your head. “I’m sorry about Peter, but we have to go!”

She chances a single glance back at her father, who currently is being held up off his feet by his neck by a Ghost Rider. He nods at her, encouraging her to follow you and Lydia and with that, she finally follows your lead, though reluctant, allowing you to help pull her along before simply just following you.

However, just as you rush out the door, she stops. And you don’t notice til you’re out, and when you turn back, the library isn’t there.

Meeting Lydia’s eyes, she nods at you, with the intent to follow after Malia and find her. But, just as you take a step forward, a feeling courses through you. And it’s a feeling you’ve felt before, many times. It’s Stiles.

It has to be.

“Y/N?”

Turning back to Lydia with a dazed expression, you shake your head. “Find Malia, get somewhere safe.”

She shakes her head, brows furrowing in bafflement. “Where are you going?”

“I’ve got to find Stiles.”

You rush off without another word, ignoring her bleak call for you as you pick up the speed in your step, all but running down the hallway. Your feet keep leading you, the feeling growing stronger and stronger by each step, until you find yourself in front of the girls locker room. Without hesitation, you push the door open, the first thing your eyes fall on is one of the Ghost Riders.

And then, you see Stiles.

Your lips part, and a yell leaves your lips as a burst of power flows through your body. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, unlike anything you’ve ever done before. Your powers feel stronger, unbelievably powerful as you push the Ghost Rider away from Stiles, knocking it back against a set of lockers. The glow of purple surrounds you, surging from your hands, and directed at the Ghost Rider only and completely.

It’s unlike anything you’ve ever done before and it’s more control you’ve ever had over your powers.

And, to your surprise and great shock, the Ghost Rider burst into a cloud of green smoke itself. Just like all the innocent civilians it’s taken over the years. You’re not sure how you do it, how you had that much strength and power to destroy a Ghost Rider. But maybe that’s why they’d been afraid of you, like they were Lydia. Only unlike Lydia, or really anyone apparently, you could... destroy them.

Then, you ease, and you feel your legs grow weak beneath you as a result. Your body feels exhausted, your mind as well, and your eyes dull for a moment as you feel yourself falling, but arms catch you before you body thuds against the ground.

“Y/N? Y/N, are you okay?”

You move your hands to hold onto the arms holding you, finding enough strength in your body to finally look up and meet Stiles’ eyes. The eyes of the man you’ve been searching for for the past few months.

“Stiles,” you breathe, hands falling to his cheeks. “Stiles, you’re here. I... I found you.”

His lips curve upwards gently, eyes never leaving your own as he nods.

“I love you,” you whisper, that being the first thought to leave your mind. You needed to tell him. You just had to. “And I never stopped.”

And, Stiles shifts, holding you closer up against himself as he lets out a gentle laugh. “I know.” He uses his right hand to brush back strands of hair that had fallen into your eyes, gently tucking them behind your ear with a soft and adoring looking in his eyes. “I love you too.” Then, he’s leaning forward, pressing his lips against your own. Something you’ve been craving this entire time, his touch. And he’s here, holding you, kissing you...

You instantly return the kiss, without hesitation, your back curving into him as you pour every bit of feeling you’ve felt for him since he disappeared.

Since you broke up.

His hands run through your hair and you hold tight to him, afraid that’ll he’ll disappear from your fingers once again.

But, he never does.

He’s here. He really is.

“How sweet.”

You pull back in surprise at the voice, eyes blinking over only to find Isaac. Or rather, the phantom Isaac that the Ghost Riders had created. That you knew now. Alarmed, Stiles helps you up to your feet, the both of you shuffling back in response as Isaac approaches, his eyes clearly set on you.

And only you.

“Is that Isaac?”

“I sort of brought him back...” You glance back at him, wincing lightly, “it’s a long story.”

“I hate to ruin the moment,” Isaac continues, his voice contorting, turning darker and muffled. You blink and suddenly, his face isn’t his own, messed up, and it’s then your thoughts and fears of the past couple months are confirmed. That wasn’t Isaac.

And you didn’t love what every he it was.

“But I thought you loved me.”

“Stay back,” you whisper to Stiles, pushing him back behind you.

Stiles glances down at you in concern, shaking his head. “Y/N, your powers--”

“I know,” you nod, continuing to shuffle back. “But I have to try.” Then, meeting his eyes steadily, you nod. “Be ready to run.”

He takes a moment, hesitating, before slowly nodding, stepping back to give you the room you need. However, he doesn’t run off yet, he sticks close, obviously worried for you as you slowly raise your hands up before yourself, inhaling sharply and deeply in preparation.

Isaac steps forward, a twisted smile on his lips; “don’t you love me?”

Letting your eyes fall shut, you harden your eyes, shaking your head. “I love the real Isaac,” you mumble, “but not whoever you are.”

And then your lips part and your hands jut out before you as a glow of purple surrounds you. Another cry of pain and exhaustion leaves your lips, forcing out everything you have within you. Everything you have left. Your muscles strain and contort painfully, and you feel your legs start to give out beneath you, but what keeps you going is the fact that it’s working.

If the panicked look on the phantom Isaac’s face is anything to go by.

With one last push, using all that you have left, you knock the phantom back. It slams against a set of lockers, and with just one final push from you, it burst into a cloud of green smoke.

Instantly, you’re falling once more. And like before, Stiles catches you, keeping you steady.

Your head lulls and your body is screaming at you in exhaustion. But you don’t much care now because you’re back in Stiles’ arms.

“How in the world did you do that?” Stiles breathes, glancing in the direction Isaac had all but disappeared. “And what the hell even was that?”

“It’s a long story,” you whisper, repeating your words from earlier, voice tired as you lean on Stiles, letting him guide you back up to your feet. “But, at least I know why the Ghost Riders are afraid of me.”

Staring back at you, astonished, Stiles blinks. “Afraid of you?” Then, a small smile curls onto his lips, and he almost looks proud. No, he definitely looks proud. “I love you.”

Laughing, you nod; “I love you too.”

He glances in the direction of the exit, wrapping his arm around your waist. “We should go,” he suggests gently to which you nod, trying your best to not let all of your weight fall on him. He helps guide you out of the locker room and down the hallway, however, you don’t make it far. Because just as you both reach the doors and Stiles moves to open them, a voice echoes.

“Stiles?”

Turning in the direction of the voice, you stare at the empty hallway.

“Stiles, is that you?”

“Mom?”

You shake your head when Stiles takes a step forward, gently pulling you with him.

“Stiles,” you call, voice weak. “That’s not your mom. Just like that wasn’t Isaac.”

“I know who it is,” Stiles mumbles, “I know her voice.”

“No,” you argue, desperate for him to understand. “That’s the Wild Hunt. They’re tricking you.” He only continues to walk forward, towards where the voice had originated, looking both astonished and lost at the same time. “The Wild Hunt brought her back, but she’s not real.”

He turns to you, confused; “what do you mean, ‘brought her back’?”

Before you can speak, Claudia’s voice echoes once more; “Stiles.”

And turning, you frown when she steps through the doors.

“I know what you’ve been through.”

Your grip tightens on Stiles, trying to pull him back. But he holds fast, relenting you.

“I know how much you love your father.” Claudia continues and then, like Isaac, there’s a shift and her face becomes contorted. Darkened. Not her own. And her voice does the same. “But I love him more.”

Swallowing thickly, you let out a shaky breath.

You don’t have the strength to fight her off. Not for the third time. And if you tried, you’re sure it could kill you.

“Even through the hunt,” she continues, voice distorted and echoed, “you somehow worked your way back into his memory.”

“Yeah,” Stiles nods, trying to stay strong. “Worming is one of my skills.”

Standing up a bit straighter, you pull Stiles’ gaze on your own. “That thing,” and you spit the word venomously, “is conjured from your dad’s pain. If he remembers you, he can’t believe in her.”

“That’s why you have to go.”

It happens in a second. Claudia steps forward and you move to stop her, even if you know you can’t, but her hand wraps around your throat, squeezing painfully. It blocks all air and you scramble, scratching at her hand but she’s too strong for your weakened state. And then Stiles steps forward, quick to help you, trying to pull her hands away from you.

“You shouldn’t treat your mother that way.”

You slump against the ground, a groan of pain leaving your lips in response. However, your focus soon turns on Stiles as it’s now his neck being squeezed by the phantom.

“You’re not my mother,” he whispers, voice straining.

She steps forward, quick, slamming him up against a wall. You try to climb up to your feet, hating how weakened you were by your own powers and desperate to try and help Stiles. But you can’t move fast enough. You entire body screamed at you in pain, your head banging in agony, your throat screaming out in discomfort.

“He believes in me. Dreams. So hard to kill.”

But then a figure steps past you, and your eyes widen in hope in realization of who.

“But not impossible.”

Stilinski attempts to shoot Claudia, but regrettably, it does nothing to her.

“Noah,” she calls, shaking her head. “Your bullets can’t hurt me.”

Finding your strength, you force yourself up. You ignore your own pain and suffering for the sake of Stiles, and the fact that you refuse to lose him again. Not again. You won’t let it happen.

Falling next to Stilinski, you swallow thickly, “fire again.”

He listens without fault, and with the help of his bullet, you push your hands forward, forcing your powers to surge towards her and guiding the bullet there as well. The bullet hits her, right in the chest, and like Isaac, she disappears in a cloud of green smoke, letting go of Stiles.

You slump forward, trying to keep yourself upright. The ground begins to rumble beneath you and you nearly fall, but Stilinski wraps an arm around you to keep you upright, helping steady you.

You glance around as everything continues to rumble, shaking violently, trying to find the source.

“Looking for this?”

Stiles jumps, surprised by your voice as he spins round fast to face you. You bite your lip to fight your smile at his reaction, pressing a hand against your lips to muffle your giggle. “Sorry,” you mumble at his half-hearted glare he attempts to send your way. “Your dad let me in.”

Setting down the book in his hands back on his dresser, Stiles turns to you completely, hand set against his chest. “You could’ve at least knocked.”

You only shake your head, electing not to say anything as you walk into Stiles’ room. You cross the distance between the two of you, slowing to a stop in front of the boy with a soft smile, before leaning down to gently grab his hand. You pull it up, turning it so his palm is pointed towards the ceiling, before slowly lowering the necklace his father had found for you into his hand.

Stiles glances down at the necklace, his eyes widening when he realizes just what necklace it is. “What...”

“Your father found it when you were...” You trail off, a light frown curling onto your lips at the memory of it all. “Well, you know. And he said you left it for me.”

Swallowing thickly, Stiles eyes the lily necklace in his palm for a moment before glancing up to meet your eyes. His gaze is soft as he glances up at you, reflective as well. There’s seems to be hundred of thoughts running through his mind as he stares back at you, emotions that you seem to understand well enough but can’t exactly place.

While things were better, much, much better... You and Stiles haven’t really discussed any of it. Any of it being what had happened before he’d disappeared. There seemed to be this wall that existed between the two of you, this wall that stopped you from talking about it; about the break up, about the secrecy and the lying... But you didn’t want to go on never talking about it. You didn’t want it to be a forbidden thing in your relationship.

If the two of you were going to do this, you had to be better about being honest.

About it all.

“Stiles--”

“Y/N--”

Letting out a laugh, you shake your head. “You go first.”

Stiles hesitates for a moment and he even looks a little shy as his lips part to speak, but he stammers for the right words. You let him take his time, listening carefully as he swallows thickly, mustering up the courage. “I was going to give this necklace to you at graduation,” he explains, “it was going to be my way of apologizing to you for how I treated you. About the way I treated you about Donovan and the Dread Doctors and Theo...”

You frown at the mention of his name.

But Stiles is quick to pull your gaze back on his own, hand falling under your chin and gently pulling it up. “I wasn’t there for you when you needed me and for that, i’m sorry. I should’ve told you, but I felt like I couldn’t tell anyone. I couldn’t even tell my own dad... And I didn’t stop to think that you were going through things of your own...” His hand moves, cupping your cheeks as his thumb softly brushes away the lone tear that had manage to fall past your defenses. “You deserved better then that. Better then me.”

You adamantly shake your head, without hesitation, taking his hands in your own firmly. “I don’t want anyone else but you, Stiles.”

His lips part, and he hesitates, then; “even after everything?”

“Our life is crazy, Stiles. Our lives have been crazy since Scott got bit... And yeah, we’re graduating, and I don’t know what the future holds.” You lean into his touch, your hand falling over his own with a soft smile. “But the one thing I do know is that you’re what got me through it all. And I don’t ever want to not have you by my side again.”

An echo of silence passes, and then, you lean forward, letting your forehead fall on Stiles’ own.

“You’re it for me, Stiles,” you whisper, “you’re all I want.”

Placing his hands on your waist, Stiles tugs you closer. “Good,” he mumbles, “cause you’re all I want too.”

You pull back with a smile, a bright one. There’s this race of happiness flooding through you that you haven’t felt for months. To have Stiles so close again, without all that tension that had once existed between you... it felt like a dream come true.

“Here.”

You blink at Stiles’ words, before understanding his meaning. Pulling back from his touch, you turn, pulling your hair out of his way as he slips the necklace around your neck before locking the clasp for you. Once it’s on properly, you turn to him with a bright smile, letting out a soft laugh as you eye the pendant. “I love it.”

“And,” Stiles begins, pulling you close. “I love you.”

“Hey.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

Smiling softly at the sound of Isaac’s voice, you glance down at your lap, biting your lip.

“How are you, Isaac?”

“I’m good,” he responds back cheerfully. “Things are really good.”

“Yeah?” You question softly in response, “i’m glad.”

There’s a pause, then, “how are you, Y/N?”

“I’m good,” you whisper. “I am. I promise.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you nod, even though you know he can’t see it. “I just really wanted to hear your voice.”

His actual voice.

“You sure everything’s okay?” Isaac hesitates, seeming unsure. “You seem off.”

“I’m good, i’m good,” you laugh lightly. “I promise. I’m just tired. Today was the last day of school and I still have no idea what I want to do for college.”

“You don’t?”

Shrugging, you fiddle with the sleeve of your shirt. “No, but i’ll figure it out.” Then, you brighten up. “What about you? You should be done school in France as well, right? What are your big plans?”

Isaac lets out a soft laugh. “I don’t have too many big plans.”

“No?”

“Well, actually... I sort of... maybe met this girl...”

“You met a girl?” You exclaim, excited. “Who? Who is it?”

“Slow down, Y/N/N,” Isaac chuckles, and you can imagine him rolling his eyes at you. “It’s just some girl from school. But I've taken her on a few dates and things are looking good... Really good.”

“Oh, that’s amazing, Isaac. I’m so happy for you.”

“Yeah, well...” Then he pauses, “what about you? Did Stiles realize the big mistake he made?”

Rolling your eyes, you glance back at the past out image of Stiles next to you, curled up in his blankets. “You could say that,” you snort, “we’re better.”

“You guys together, then?”

Smiling down at Stiles, you nod. “Yeah,” you whisper, “we are.”

Part 45?

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#Teen Wolf #Teen Wolf imagine #Teen Wolf x reader #Teen Wolf series #NRT #No Reason To #Stiles #Stiles Stilinski #Stiles Stilinski imagine #Stiles Stilinski x reader #Stiles imagine #Stiles x reader #Dylan O'Brien #Dylan O'Brien imagine #Dylan O'Brien x reader #Scott McCall #Scott McCall imagine #Isaac Lahey #Isaac Lahey imagine

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tardytothepardy · 3 years

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My Review of "A Court of Silver Flames" (because it's too long for Goodreads)

~`,Spoiler-free summary/review idk,`~

In "A Court of Silver Flames", the story centers around two characters that were previously in the "A Court of Thorns and Roses" series, Cassian and Nesta. As far as I can tell, this story takes place about a year after "A Court of Frost and Starlight", where Nesta is in a bad mental state. To cope with the events in "A Court of War and Ruin", she has taken to excessive drinking and sleeping with random people. The members of the Inner Court allowed her to do this for a while, but as the book begins, it is made clear that they won't let her do that anymore. It is decided that she will be taken to the House of Wind, along with Cassian and Azriel, so she can be separated from everything and heal. The reasoning behind putting Nesta in the House of Wind is that the only ways anyone can easily go to or leave the house is by flying or winnowing, neither of which are things she can do. There is a set of 10,000 stairs that she can take, but seeing as they are 10,000 stairs, it's pretty difficult.

Throughout the story, Nesta is forced to come to terms with her difficult memories and her powers, which she has pushed away in an effort to retain as much of her prior humanity as she can. It is soon revealed that her powers are connected to three ancient magical items, collectively called the "Dread Trove", and Nesta is tasked to find as many as she can to keep Briallyn, one of the human queens, who has a similar connection to the items, from obtaining them and wielding powers that could completely destroy the world.

While all of this is going on, it is revealed that Feyre is pregnant. It isn't all happy news, however, because it seems that complications (of the deadly variety) have become known, and no one knows what to do to save her (let alone herself because she's not even aware of it hooray Rice Hand you're doing fabulously).

I think as a whole, one thing that this book struggled with is pacing. For the majority of the book, I didn't feel that the characters were actively trying to stop The Bad Guys, it almost felt that they took action every so often, as if they randomly remembered that these events are happening. Most of the book is focused on the development of the relationship between Cassian and Nesta, and everything else falls around that, which would be fine if the other events were of a smaller scale, like planning a party or something (idk lmao), rather than the fate of literally the <i>entire world</i>, both the Fae and human world. A lot of the things that happened in this book seemed like they were resolved within the last 50 pages of the book, one after another, it just felt odd.

(spoilers for the entire book below the "keep reading"!)

~`,Spoilers from here on out,`~

So like I said in the beginning, it starts with Nesta in her house. It's from Cassian's point of view, so I got to endure two things that really fucking irritated me: first was where she was living. It was a similar line of thought from the "ACOFAS" description, that Velaris doesn't have slums, but if it did have a slum, Nesta would be living in it. But it doesn't have slums, but this place is still icky. Cassian acknowledges that he's stayed in worse, but this place is still icky, yucky, blecky, and gross. Second thing that irritated me was when he first saw her. He describes her as having "long bare legs, an elegant sweep of hips, tapered waist--too damn thin--and full, inviting breasts that were at odds with the new, sharp angles of her body" (10). She was thin, very thin, but not her boobs. Nope, those badonks were still (somehow) plenty large. This might be the fault of me trying to understand Fae bodies by comparing them to human bodies, but I simply do not understand how that is supposed to work. Boobs are made of fats and tissues, if you're losing weight, you're gonna lose boob. Whatever.

Cassian proceeds to take Nesta to one of (apparently 5. Rice Hand and Feyre have five houses, why) Feyre's houses, where it is soon made clear that an intervention is being staged. This has to be one of the worse ones out there, because oh my fucking god everyone is so goddamn hostile towards Nesta. Amren and Nesta were previously friendly, then they had an unresolved (and unexplained) falling out, and now holy shit Amren is constantly baiting Nesta, making snide remarks. Rice Hand seems to be offended by Nesta simply because she doesn't like him or Feyre, like I don't get why he's so aggressive towards her (and that shit continues for the majority of the book it's so annoying), but somehow everyone there is surprised when Nesta is aggressive, that she throws insults, that she's rude.

Anyway, after Nesta is toted to the House, she instantly tries to find a way out, and that's when the 10,000 stairs come in. (Tangent, in the book it says that the stairs are about a foot tall each. 10,000, 1 foot tall stairs. That would mean the House of Wind is at least 10,000ft tall, but seeing as the House has multiple levels, it's even taller than that. This building is so goddamn tall, did Maas even think about that? It's nonsensical! Anyway) She tries to go down them, but she fails miserably. She's underweight, I wouldn't be surprised if she's malnourished, she's in no state to climb down 10,000 stairs.

So that's where the training comes in. Cassian takes her to Windhaven, an Illyrian camp (place thing idk), to train, but she just refuses. After 3 days of her not doing anything, Cassian is ready to throw in the towel (I thought,,, I would think that since he's had to discipline out-of-line soldiers before he'd do better than 3 fucking days but whatever), but then he remembers what she's said about it all three of those times, that she's not gonna do it in front of everyone (because if you didn't remember, the Illyrians are massively sexist and so of course no one has anything better to do than gather round to see some random woman attempt to train but whatever), so he just has her train within the House. One top of the House, it seems. I don't know how big this House is supposed to be, but the roof at least would have to be huge to allow for multiple people to train and work out, spaced out evenly, and not be at risk for falling off. But he has her train there, issue resolved.

What is this training, you may ask? It's just basic stuff, like stretching, balance, strength training, and eventually grappling with so much sexual tension you can barely see your hand in front of your face (it's like a fog as far as I'm concerned), casual stuff.

Along with this training, Nesta is also assigned to work in the library, which is also a sort of refuge or something for a bunch of priestesses who have survived various forms of abuse or assault. It's one big safe space that also has old ass books. Sounds great. She has to work there for six hours, I believe, everyday, along with the training, and at the library she meets someone named Gwyn. Gwyn is a priestess, she's been there for a little while (it doesn't actually say how long, now that I think about it) and fun fact, she's a quarter river nymph. The person she works under is shown using that fact as an insult, but only once, because then Nesta lets her eyes go silver, which freaks them out, and then Gwyn doesn't have to deal with it anymore.

Speaking of silver eyeballs, let's talk about her powers. What are they, how do they work? What are the limits of her powers, etc.? It's not really stated, beyond vague stuff of her powers being derived from something ancient, before the Fae's time, and that she's really powerful. At one point in the book when Rice Hand had to go into her mind (she was having night terrors), he described her powers as "pure death". On one occasion as she was trying to go down the 10,000 steps (which is a recurring thing throughout the whole book), she fell partway down and when she caught herself, she saw that she somehow burned her handprint into the stone. At another point when she's a good way into her training, she's punching something and it is later shown that she again burned through the wood (it was a piece of wood wrapped in cloth which sounds like an absolute delight to punch for a sustained period of time), but somehow the burn mark was cold? Much later in the book she literally un-alives someone, like she didn't kill them, she regressed their age so much that they were un-alive. (She basically hit the "undo" button on their life) Additionally, since her powers that she got from the Cauldron have connected her to the "Dread Trove" items, she is able to find them very easily and use them without issue. With all this information, it's still not clear as to what the limits to her power are. I suppose she is the limitation, because she could choose to use her power to gather the items of the "Dread Trove" and use them to manipulate worlds and time and fucking death itself, but she doesn't. And honestly I'm not sure how I feel about that, I'm kinda iffy on the idea of a character having seemingly unlimited power (especially when they only use it a handful of times, if at all), but I suppose it doesn't really matter because by the end of the story, she gives back most of her power to the Cauldron anyway, so any questions about that are just,,, thrown to the wind.

The characters in this story were a pretty mixed bag. I can say full-heartedly that I did not like Rhysand (there, I said his actual name instead of Rice Hand, Rice Hand is funnier to me). I don't think I've ever particularly liked him, he was too smarmy for my liking, and then when we got a look into his mind courtesy of ACOFAS, all I got out of it was that whatever is going on in his head does not match his outwardly appearance and demeanor whatsoever. (On the outside, he seems like he'd be the one to smirk a lot, probably use lots of sarcasm, on the inside it seems like if someone said "boobs" he'd start laughing uncontrollably. Like, it's weird. Idk what was going on in that book, it was weird.) But in this book, I did not like him, from the beginning. He was so hostile, so aggressive towards Nesta, at any given moment. I don't know if he had any sympathy at all for her situation, because he certainly didn't act like it. At anything Nesta would do, he would push back.

For example, when Gwyn decided to join Nesta in her training, Rice Hand said in her mind to not do anything (in the book, he said, "You are to treat Gwyn with kindness and respect." (pg. 304)), and the whole thing angers me for two reasons, the first being that Nesta's kindness was the reason that Gwyn was there in the first place. Which leads to the second reason, that it seems that Rice Hand is so convinced that Nesta is an unlikable person that she couldn't have possibly made friends (or at least friendly acquaintances) during her time at the House and working in the library.

Following that remark, Nesta noted that it seemed that Rice Hand didn't particularly like the fact that she and Cassian were a thing, which also ticks me off. Am I a huge fan of Cassian and Nesta being together? They're fine, but it's again that idea that she couldn't have possibly warmed up to someone that she has to be around the majority of the time, and maybe someone that doesn't default their mentality of her as "whatever she's doing, it's wrong/bad". To give credit to Cassian, he did figure out that Rice Hand said something to her and chided him for doing so. He actually caught Rice Hand doing it a few more times within the book and got after him about it those times, which is nice.

But that's not the only reason why I specifically did not like Rice Hand in this book. There's another thing he did which I feel is so much worse than what he did or said to Nesta. That thing would be that he kept information about Feyre from Feyre, specifically about her own pregnancy. Now, I said in the beginning that she had a troubled pregnancy. Basically, her baby had wings, but her body wouldn't be able to safely deliver the baby because of those wings. Before you ask "Hey, doesn't Feyre have shape-shifting powers?" or "What about a c-section?", Maas tucked away those easy solutions by saying that Madja, the person overseeing Feyre's pregnancy, told her that shape-shifting might put the baby at risk for more complications, and as far as the c-section thing goes, they just uh, they just haven't seemed to figure out how to do that. These Fae people live for hundreds of years and no one has ever figured out how to properly do a c-section, I guess. Additionally, it seems that Illyrian wings are particularly special, compared to the wings of the other two groups of winged Fae, Seraphim and Peregyrn, because whereas the wings of the Seraphims or Peregryns can move, allowing for an easier birth, apparently (for some fucking reason) Illyrian wings are bony? Like, in utero, they're already bony and difficult to move, which is where all those complications come in.

He told none of this to Feyre. All she knew about her own pregnancy, was that there might be some complications, she didn't know that there was a gigantic mortality rate with pregnancies like this, nothing like that. He purposely kept this information from her, it seems that the whole fucking Inner Court voted on it, or some shit. When Feyre was told of this whole thing from Nesta, Amren said it was to protect Feyre, to keep her from getting stressed or scared, which could worsen things further. But I counter that Amren, with this: How fucking scared do you think Feyre would have been, when she was in labor and everything, and things were rapidly spiraling out of control? She would have been terrified! Don't you think that would've affected something, because I fucking think it would have! Was there ever any intent to tell her about this, or did all of them just decide to never tell her?

The reason why Nesta told Feyre about it was to hurt her, initially, but it was also because she found out that the Inner Court had made a decision about her, personally, because she had accidentally made more "Dread Trove" items by imbuing her power in three swords that she made while at a blacksmith. She found out (via Cassian's absolutely terrible way of bringing up the swords she made) that they were planning to take them away (or something, I don't specifically remember), and that's when she went to Amren's place and demanded more information. When Feyre was brought to intervene, Nesta told Feyre what Cassian had told her (despite the fact that he was totally supposed to keep that a secret but whatever dude). Feyre was shocked, understandably, but she wasn't angry at Nesta for that, and I can't tell you how happy I was about that, I am so happy that Feyre wasn't angry at Nesta for telling her about this. She actually was angry at the other people for deciding to keep this information from her. I just,, I'm really happy that she wasn't angry at Nesta. Everyone else, on the other hand, was fucking pissed at her, including Rice Hand. He was absolutely livid, but the funny thing is, that I don't give a shit, honestly. He should have never kept that a secret in the first place.

I think as a whole, his behavior is explained away because "his mate is pregnant", so I guess he has full clearance to be obnoxious and aggressive and withhold information without the knowledge of all parties involved. What happened to always giving Feyre a choice, Rhysand? What happened to that? Did she only get a choice when you decided to give her one? Because that is certainly what this felt like.

Another thing that Rice Hand did that I would place in between his bullshit against Nesta and his bullshit against Feyre, is another thing that he did to Feyre. So, back in ACOTAR, I believe, when Feyre was still with Tamlin, Tamlin infamously trapped Feyre in a huge magical bubble, where she couldn't leave Tamlin's house. Everyone agreed that that wasn't the best thing for Tamlin to do, and Tamlin's punishment was completely equal to the evils he committed, one-hundred percent. (Not really, now he's stuck in his beast form, roaming the Spring Court in a state of anger and pain. Sympathy for him is quite the commodity in the books.) But what does any of this have to do with Rice Hand? Well, he basically did the same thing to Feyre, except rather than being stuck in a building, the shield is on her, and it's so strong that even her friends can't touch her without being hit by the shield. And when she's asked about it, Feyre just says that Rice Hand learned how to make shields from Helion, the High Lord of the Summer Court, and like,,,, is testing them out on her?? And we're all supposed to think this is fine? The shield is so intense that they can't even smell her (which is a thing, in this series. Fae people can smell other people, they have scents, idk man I'm just going with it), so effectively he's masking her entire existence, and no one has a problem with it. It's weird. It's not as bad as the pregnancy thing, but it's still not great.

I suppose since I'm talking about characters, I should talk about Cassian and Nesta, seeing as they did totally, undeniably become a Thing in this book. Idk how to really go about it, honestly. For the majority of the book, at least one of them was sure that the other didn't like them, or that they weren't deserving to be with the other, so that was fun. I don't particularly remember when, but at some point they both just,,, decided? to have casual sex, that it meant nothing (when it did, in fact, mean something), and it was like,,, a way of distancing themselves from the other. That is particularly the case with Nesta, who felt guilty for constantly pushing Cassian away at basically every turn. Apparently her attention was caught on him from like,,, the first time that she even saw him, way back when she and Elain were still human, in their cottage. She didn't love him or anything, but it was a Notice.

Despite that Notice, she still pushed him away, as I said, because she just didn't feel like she was good enough. Over the course of the book, Nesta quickly became ashamed of the life she had been living since being put in the Cauldron, which was all the drinking and sex (and that's it? Like, a lot of people in this book made it out to be this whole thing but I think that's basically all she did. Part of me feels like the main reason the Inner Court was so bothered by it in the first place was that she was billing it to them, who really wouldn't even notice the money spent anyway, given how much money they seem to have but whatever), and this was another thing that caused her to push away. (And then violently yo-yo back it was incredible) She also has been harboring a fuck ton of guilt over her father's death, which I think was something I worried about after reading ACOFAS? Idk, but it wasn't terrible. She acknowledged that she couldn't really do anything, that it was all over before she could move, but the main reason she felt so horrible about it, was because all this time, since her mother's death (and kinda before it?), she had been mean towards her father, constantly snubbing him, acting with disdain, etc., but during the war (in ACOWAR, it's so helpfully acronymed), he came to help with a fleet of ships, and the one he was on, he named after her. It showed that, despite all that she had said and done to him for all these years, he still loved her, and she felt that she didn't deserve that.

She felt guilty about what had happened to Elain, and felt angry that she wasn't able to do more. Her relationship with Elain kinda soured at a point, because it went from Elain being the withdrawn, sallow, underfed and distant one, to her being that, except with Elain, she would just sit in a chair in an empty room and wallow in her own misery, whereas Nesta used other aforementioned ways to try to forget. Throughout a lot of this book, Nesta and Elain are at each other's throats, and they did, apparently, make up, but I don't know when. For how much of the book is spent about them being at odds with each other, there's an odd lack of them actually making up with each other and settling all that. It's weird.

As a whole though, the center of Nesta's issues stem from the fact that she feels helpless. As she put it, all these things happened to her, she didn't do anything about it. She didn't (in most cases, couldn't) do anything to get herself out of those situations. She felt she lacked agency, in essence. I believe that is mostly why she acted the way she did, because then she could control how others felt about her. The other reason why she acted the way she did, is that her mother trained her to do so.

When her family was still rich (and their mother was still alive), Nesta was trained to be absolutely vicious in the ballroom. She knew how to win people over with small gestures or expressions, and how to read people with a glance. She also knew how to dance, ridiculously well it seems. There is a point in the story when, to make sure that Eris, a member of the Autumn Court that they had been using for information, was still friendly with them, she was chosen to dance with him, to make sure that the Night Court was still in his favor. So, she danced with him. By the end of it, Eris apparently wanted to marry her, and you can fucking imagine how pissed Cassian was about that (I do think that at this point in the book, Nesta and Cassian were most assuredly a Thing, whether either of them acknowledged it or not), but the whole point of it was to show that Nesta was really in tune with music, and that she knows exactly how to meddle in the politics to win in her favor.

Her mother raised Elain to be a perfect princess, to be married off to someone with lots of money. Her mother raised Nesta to be powerful (but, from Nesta's own thoughts, she remembers asking her mother if she was going to marry a person the same way Elain was, but her mother didn't respond). As for Feyre, Nesta says that their mother seemed to mostly forget or avoid Feyre, because she wasn't quite right or something. I'm not sure.

There is a little thing where Nesta thinks of herself as a caged beast stuffed in a pretty dress, because she remembers that she's always had to restrain herself to make sure that nothing went wrong. When her mental health declines, it is equated to wolves encroaching her space, snarling her doubts and fears, and how she used to deafen them using people or alcohol. It wasn't ever enough, but it's what she did.

One thing that did help with the wolves was something she learned from Gwyn, called Mind Stilling (cough cough it's just meditation cough wheeze), a practice used by an extinct group of female warriors called Valkyries. (Yup, just like the Old Norse Valkyries.) Throughout this book, Nesta, Gwyn, and another Illyrian woman named Emerie (along with a few others but they basically only are present in theory) all trained with Cassian (and Azriel, he showed up later on, just in case Maas thought you forgot about him) to become the new Valkyries. It turns out that Cassian knew of them, I think most of the Inner Court knew them or at least knew of them (which is what happens when you're over five hundred fucking years old jfc) before they died in battle. There are a couple portions of this book that are mostly just training montages, with added notes of "it would have taken forever to build muscles as a human, but being Fae meant that Nesta could get stronger much faster", just in case you thought that 3 training montages was a lil too fast.

All this training does culminate into something by the end of the book, almost literally. I feel like a lot of this book is just watching Cassian and Nesta bounce off one another (in more ways than one lmao), and then Maas at some point realized, "Oh shit I have to actually make these things mean something!" and so the payoff for all the training, so to speak, and Feyre's pregnancy are both resolved by the end of the book, just barely.

The training thing is resolved by Gwyn, Emerie, and Nesta (in that order, it was specified that Nesta took like, three days after Emerie and Gwyn to complete her training because she was so busy probably staring at Cassian and thinking about... stuff. That's basically what both of them were doing for a healthy portion of this 700+ page tome) cutting a white silk ribbon that was tied up to a pole. I guess the idea was that if they are able to cut a piece of ribbon fluttering in the wind, they have mastery over themselves and their weapons. Personally, I get it. Ribbons are evasive as fuck and will gain enough sentience to move away from you just enough so you can't grab them. I know for certain that I would not be able to do this.

Now, I've mentioned Emerie a few times now, who is she? During the three or so days at the Illyrian camp, Nesta comes to know an Illyrian woman named Emerie. She's a shopkeeper in the village, and she likes keeping her store neat. Her family doesn't like that she owns the shop, and wants it to be carried over to one of her relatives. One of the times that Nesta visits her, one of Emerie's cousins is there, spewing stupid nonsense about how she can't run a store on her own. (He ends up dying, in case you were wondering.) She seems like a pretty interesting character, and she and Nesta bond over their shared interests in books, and that they've both been through some shit. In Emerie's case, her wings were clipped, so she can't fly. It is(or was?) a practice that was(is?) pretty common in Illyrian society, because clearly no one wants the wamen flyin around, who else is gonna do the cookin and cleanin and child rearin? Emerie ends up joining Nesta and Gwyn in training, with her main motivation similar to Nesta's: that she never wants to feel or be powerless again.

I've talked about the training a few times now, and I've mentioned how it led to something, without saying what it leads to, so I'll say it here: it leads to the Blood Rite, which is an Illyrian coming-of-age sorta thing, where the participants (typically the male Illyrians, like I said they just can't have the wamen beating them at anything it'd hurt their wittle egos) are put in this forest and they are tasked to scale a mountain (at least one) within a week, and fight off any monsters trying to eat them, or opponents trying to beat them. It's pretty common for people to die in these.

Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie landed themselves in this Blood Rite by being kidnapped, that's apparently how the participants are put in the Rite. There was something unusual about this one, however, in that someone (I think it turned out to be someone under the control of Briallyn) planted weapons all over the forest, which isn't allowed. Something that also isn't allowed in the Rite is magic, so the magic that Nesta has become accustomed to and now has a decent relationship with, is gone. Cool.

In the process of getting up the mountain, Gwyn nearly dies, she got shot in the leg by an arrow, and Emerie nearly drowns in a river. Nesta nearly gets stabbed by Emerie's cousin, the same guy who showed up in her shop that one time, but then he gets killed. Woohoo, violence!

Right as Nesta is fighting with Emerie's cousin, Cassian shows up, which is surprising because he wouldn't normally be able to be there: if outside forces help a participant get through the Blood Rite, it is then considered invalid, and both the participant and the outside person are promptly killed (Woohoo, violence!). Turns out that he's under the control of Briallyn, who shows up as well. She orders Cassian to kill Nesta (because of course), and rather than stab her, he stabs himself. This is when the un-aliving thing happens that I mentioned earlier. Nesta was so caught up in the rage and stress of being in the Rite, then the sheer fury of what was going on, and it was an instance of her mind going, "I will not let this happen to me" and so she slammed the "undo" button on Briallyn's existence. (Woohoo, violence!) All is well though, because apparently Cassian did not, in fact, stab himself.

All is not well though, because as this whole thing ends, Feyre's pregnancy issues begin. I won't go over in detail because I've already talked about it earlier, but basically she went into labor way too early, and things have only gotten worse. She's bleeding out, everyone is certain that she will die. And thanks to the fact that, in ACOWAR, Feyre and Rice Hand made a vow that, if one dies, the other will, there's also the risk that Rice Hand will die, and since the baby is so premature, so will the baby. So there are three lives at risk, and no one knows what the fuck to do about any of it.

Except Nesta. Well, she doesn't really know what to do, but she's trying something. She takes the items of the "Dread Trove" (remember those?) and she uses them to pause time, right before death (kinda like pausing right before your Sim's death to save your game), and pleads with the powers in the objects and within herself, to show her how to save Feyre and the baby, and she will give her powers back to the Cauldron from which she took them. The powers are basically like "k lol", and she saves Feyre and the baby (his name is Nyx, which is just,,, it's so fantasy fiction omfg), and she tells Cassian later that she also altered her fucking body so that it can carry an Illyrian baby. Has she, at literally any point in the series, let alone this book, ever even thought she wanted a child? Nope, but everyone gotta have babies. (I get that people change their minds, and Nesta seems to have a fuck ton of time ahead of her to think about it, but idk it just kinda came up out of nowhere. How about beginning research into situations like that and maybe learn how to safely perform a c-section, in this case, so that future situations don't turn out as they seem to have previously. Nesta fixing her own body won't affect the who-knows-how-many other people who might get into this situation. Then again, it's not on her to solve everyone's problems,,, idk man)

Rrrrighttt at the end of the book, it mentions that Cassian and Nesta are going to have a mating ceremony, which for all intents and purposes, might as well be a wedding they talk about it like a wedding some of the practices and traditions are reminiscent of a wedding, it's a wedding. But for some reason, they don't actually have the ceremony in this book, even though I imagine Maas could've totally done it. What's another few pages in a 700+ page book, right? So I imagine that the ceremony might come up again in the next book, because Something is going to happen then. I have no idea what that Something is going to be, but that's my guess.

I don't think I have many issues with this book in particular, it's more with just the series as a whole. I just have a lot of questions with this series, and I got even more questions from this book. Most of my questions circulate around the powers of the characters within the Inner Court, such as how does literally everyone's powers work?? Throughout this book, it kept referring to Cassian's magic, that he wears a bunch of thingies (they're called Siphons but they'll always be thingies to me) to contain that magic, but it never actually says what his magic is. As far as I can tell, there are like,, idk how to describe it but like kinda threads?? of magic, I guess, that come from his Siphons, but other than that it's just that he,,, punch? He fight good? I really don't know. From what I can gather, his abilities could stem from his life rather than any magic he has. (I think that could actually be more interesting, him not having any magic, and kinda lend another reason as to why so many fucking people in this book shit on him for being the way he is. They all throw "Prince of Bastards" or some similar title at him, as if he's the only bastard to have ever existed in Prythian like, bad guys, please come up with more insults. Call him a shithead or something like be creative I'm really not feeling it)

With Nesta, it also does a poor job of explaining her magic, it's just repeated that it's old, it's ancient, it's from another time, a time before the Fae, a time long forgotten, but like, bro, what is it. I guess I'll never know. Elain's power, which also stems from the Cauldron, is barely mentioned in this book, aside from them saying that it's either gone away, or gone dormant, so she's treated as though she has no powers (that is, whenever she actually shows up in the book. Elain is just,,, rarely in the series. What is she doing at any given time the world may never know).

I don't really think that Maas understands how many stairs 10,000 stairs would be. I don't think she gets how long 500 years would be, and what you would even be doing for the majority of that time. I don't think she has a scale for how much power she has flung at her characters, to the point of it all being nonsensical. Everyone has so much power, we're told that Rice Hand has a ridiculous amount of power, somehow Feyre has double his power, but Amren had even more power, but Nesta has even more power than that and it's just,,, can I please have a frame of reference because I simply do not understand. I don't think she even has much of an explanation for the powers she has given her characters, and two examples I can immediately think of are Mor and Azriel. Mor's powers have simply been stated as "truth", but have we ever seen her use that power? What the fuck does that even mean, does she have a freakin lasso of truth or some shit like I don't understand. Then with Azriel, he got some kind of shadow magic thing going on, but like even within the story, the characters don't seem to understand how it works. Even the people that have known Azriel basically their entire lives (Rice Hand and Cassian) don't understand it. So how the fuck am I suppose to understand?

I'm just going to end it here because jfc this thing is so long, it's 10 pages long in Google Docs, and I heavily doubt anyone is going to read this far. If you have, much thanks! To clarify, I do like the series (to some extent) I just,, I have a lot of questions. So many, I couldn't fit them in here because they didn't really have any answers in the books (any of them, as far as I'm aware). Idk. How do people write conclusions? It's beyond me. Agh, anyway, thanks for reading this.

#i write so much sometimes like where do these words come from #i didn't even know i thought about this series that much #but yeah this thing is wayyyy too long for goodreads but i didn't want it all to go to waste so i'm putting it here #also on goodreads but it's painfully shortened on there #it's tragic #wait lmao how do you tag these books i've never done it before #acotar #a court of silver flames #acosf #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #elain archeron #rhysand #cassian #azriel #gywn berdara #emerie acosf #acosf spoilers #long post

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quakerjoe · 5 years

Text

"Why are people so hostile towards President Donald Trump?"

Chris O'Leary:

Before you pass my answer off as “Another Liberal Snowflake” consider that 1.) I'm an independent centrist who has voted Republican way more often in my life than Democrat, and 2.) If you want to call someone who spent the entire decade of his 20’s serving in the Marine Corps a snowflake, I’d be ready to answer the question what did you do with your 20’s?

Why Liberals (And not-so liberals) are against President Trump.

A.) He lies. A LOT. Politifact rates 69% of the words he speaks as “Mostly False or worse” Only 17% of the things he says get a “Mostly True” or better rating. That is an absolutely unbelievable number. How he doesn’t speak more truth by mistake is beyond me. To put it in context, Obama’s rating was 26% mostly false or worse, and I had a problem with that. Many of Trump’s former business associates report that he has always been a compulsive liar, but now he’s the President of the United States, and that’s a problem. And this is a man who expects you to believe him when he points at other people and says “They’re lying”

B.) He’s an authoritarian populist, not a conservative. He advances regressive social policy while proposing to expand federal spending and federalist authority over states, both of which conservatives are supposed to hate.

C.) He pretends at Christianity to court the Religious Right but fails to live anything resembling a Christ-Like Life.

D.) His nationalist “America First” message effectively alienates us and removes us from our place as leaders in the international community.

E.) His ideas on “Keeping us safe” are all thinly veiled ideas to remove our freedoms, he is, after all, an authoritarian first. They also are simply bad ideas.

F.) He couldn’t pass a 3rd-grade civics exam. He doesn't’ know what he’s doing. He doesn't understand how international relations work, he doesn’t understand how federal state or local governments work, and every time someone tries to “Run it like a business” it’s a spectacular failure. See Colorado Springs’ recent history as an example. The Short, Unhappy Life of a Libertarian Paradise And that was a businessman with a MUCH better business track record than Trump. We are talking about a man who lost money owning a freaking gambling casino.

G.) He behaves unethicaly and always has. As a businessman, he constantly left in his wake unpaid contractors and invoices, litigation, broken promises, whatever he could get away with.

H.) He is damaging our relationships with our best international friends while kissing up to nations that do not have our best interests in mind. To his question “Wouldn't’ it be great to have better relations with Russia?” The answer is Yes. But it is RUSSIA who needs to earn that, who must stop doing the things that are damaging to that relationship, or we are simply weaker for it.

I.) He has never seen a shortcut he didn't like, and you can’t take shortcuts in government. “Nuclear Option, Remove the Filibuster, I’ll change the Constitution by Executive Order…Don…what happens when you remove the filibuster and the other side retakes the majority in the Senate? Suddenly want that filibuster back? What happens if you manage to change the Constitution by Executive Order and an Anti-2A President wins the next election?

J.) He behaves and has always behaved as an unabashed racist. Yes, I’ve seen your favorite meme that claims he was never accused of racism before the Democrats…Absolutely false. Donald Trump’s long history of racism, from the 1970s to 2019 See the Central Park 5, the lawsuits and fines resulting from his refusal to lease to black tenants, the 1992 lost appeal trying to overturn penalties for removing black dealers from tables, his remarks to the house native American affairs subcommittee in 1993. The man sees and treats racial groups of people as monoliths.

K.) He is systematically steamrolling regulations specifically designed to keep a disaster like the 2007 subprime mortgage crisis from happening again.

L.) He speaks and acts like a demagogue. He sees the Legislative and Judicial branches of government as inconveniences, blows up at criticism no matter how deserved and actively tries to countermand constitutional processes, not to mention attempts to blackmail and coerce people who are saying negative things about him

M.) His choices for top positions, with the exception of Gen. Mattis, who is a gem, have been horrendous. A secretary of Education without a resume that would get her hired as a small town grammar school principal, A secretary of Energy who didn't know the Department of Energy was responsible for nuclear reserves, an EPA head whose biggest accomplishments to date had been suing the EPA on multiple occasions, an FCC head who while working for Verizon actively lobbied to kill net neutrality, and an Attorney General who thinks pot is “nearly as bad as heroin” and asked Congress for permission to go after legal pot businesses in states where it is legal. (There goes that great Republican States rights rally cry again, right? *Crickets*) An Interim AG after Firing his First AG who’s appointment is probably unconstitutional.

N.) He denies scientific fact. Ever notice that the only people you hear denying climate change are politicians and lobbyists? 99% of actual scientists studying the issue agree that it’s real, man-made and caused by greenhouse gasses. Ever notice that every big disaster movie starts with a bunch of politicians in a room ignoring a scientist's warning?

0.) He does not have the temperament to lead this nation. He is Thin Skinned, childish, and a bully, never mind misogynistic, boorish, rude, and incapable of civil discourse.

P.) He still does not understand that the words he speaks, or tweets, are the official position of 1/3 of the US government, and so does not govern his words. He still thinks when he speaks it’s good ol’ Donald Trump. It’s not. It’s the PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. You have probably spread a meme or two around talking about how no president’s every word has ever been dissected before…YES, THEY ALWAYS HAVE. It’s just that every other president in our lifetime has understood the importance of his words and took great care to govern his speech. Trump blurts out whatever comes to his mind then complains when people talk about what a dumb thing that was to say.

Q.) He’s unqualified. If you owned a small business and were looking for someone to manage it, and an unnamed resume came across your desk and you saw 6 bankruptcies, showing a man who had failed to make money running CASINOS, would you hire him? He is a very poor businessman. This is a man it has been estimated would have been worth $10 BILLION more if he’d just taken what his father had given him, invested it in Index Funds and left it alone.

R.) He is President. But he refuses to take a leadership position and understand that he is everyone’s President. Conservatives complain about liberals chanting “Not my President” while Trump himself behaves as if no one but his supporters matter.

S.) He’s a blatant hypocrite. He spent 8 years bitching Obama out for his family trips, or golfing, or any time he took for himself, and what does he do? He was already on his 20th golf outing in APRIL of his 1st year in office. He constantly rants about respect for the military, yet can’t be bothered to attend the 100th anniversary of Armistice Day because of a little rain. (And that excuse about Marine One not being able to fly in the rain is HILARIOUS.)

T.) He’s a misogynist. It's not really ok in this day and age to be a misogynist, but it’s not a huge deal if you’re a private citizen. It’s a pretty big deal if you hate half the people you’re elected to lead. The disdain for women seeps out of his …whatever…. and he just can’t hide it.

U.) Face it. In any other election “Grab Em’ By the Pussy” would have been the end of that candidate’s chances. Back in the 90’s I used to marvel about how Teflon Bill Clinton was. I no longer do. The fact that he managed to slip by on that is as much a statement about how much people hate Hillary Clinton as it is about what is wrong with politics in this country right now.

V.) He has one response to a differing opinion. Attack. A good leader listens to criticism, to different points of view, is capable of self-reflection, tries to guide people to his point of view, and when necessary stands his ground and defends his convictions. Any of that sound like Trump? His default is not to Lead, its’ to attack. Scorched Earth. The Jim Acosta reaction is a good example. There was no defense of his convictions when Acosta was asking him repeated questions about his rhetoric on the caravan. His response was to attack Acosta.

W.) He takes credit for everything positive while deflecting blame for everything negative. Look at him with the Stock Market. He’s been bragging about it since day one, and to give credit where credit is due, speculation on coming deregulation early in his presidency did fuel some rapid growth, but to pretend that it’s all him, that we’re not in the 9th year of the longest bull market in history and THEN, when the standard market volatility that deregulation inevitably brings about starts to show up? Yeah. Look at yesterday. Hey! Stock Markets losing because the Democrats won! Do I need to bring out the Stock market chart for the last 10 Years again?

X.) He emboldens the worst among us. Counter-protesters are slammed into by a car while countering actual Nazi rally, and the response is there’s fault on “Both Sides” The media is at fault for a nut job sending them and Donald’s favorite targets pipe bombs. The truth is not all Republicans, not all Trump Supporters are racist, fascist lunatics. Many are just taken in by the bombastic personality and are living in an information bubble made worse by the fact that they unfollow anyone and ignore any source of information that makes them feel uncomfortable. People on the left do that too. The Biggest problem the right has right now is that the worst of the Right is the loudest and the most in your face, and the actual right, especially the Freaking PRESIDENT needs to be standing up and saying No. Those are not our values.

Y.) He seems to think the Constitution of The United States, the document that IS who we are, the document he took an oath to support and defend is some sort of inconvenience. He demonstrates a complete lack of understanding of Constitution, from believing he can alter the 14th through executive order, to thinking The free exercise clause in the first amendment somehow supersedes the establishment clause (not that he really understands either) or that the free exercise clause only applies to Christians. Or his attacks on freedom of expression and the press. He repeatedly makes it clear that if he’s read them, he does not understand Articles 1–3, and that’s something he really should have before he took the job, because they’re not going away.

Z.) I’ll use Z for something I do blame him for, but the rest of us have to carry the blame too. Polarization. This country is more politically polarized than I can remember in my lifetime. Some of you who are a few years older than I may remember how it was in the late 60’s when construction workers in New York were being applauded for beating up hippies, I think it’s pretty close to that right now, but that was before my time. And he is the cause of much of the current level polarization, but also the result. It didn't’ start with Trump. We’ve been going down this road I think since the eruption of the Tea Party in the early years of the Obama Administration. I do hope the tide turns before it gets much worse because the thing that scares me more than anything is what if that keeps going the way it has been? "

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lucy-ghoul · 3 years

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Mikasa Ackermann, Levi Ackermann, Amane Misa, Aeron Greyjoy for the charactet ask :3

SOMEONE HEARD MY PRAYERS AND NOW MY TIME HAS COME, tysm!!!!! <3

okay, let's start with levi (my beloved):

hogwarts house: gryffindor (maybe....?) | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

ugh, the hp sorting house system is way too reductive. he has qualities of gryffindor, slytherin, and hufflepuff - brave, astute, loyal to a fault, etc. so it's a hard choice. but if i really have to choose, i'd go for gryffindor. i know that his Bad Boy facade shouts slytherin, but while he has larger goals (killing all the titans, then saving the world etc.), he's got no actual ambition for himself. hufflepuff would also be a good option.

daemon (from the his dark materials series): (because i've just decided that's just way more accurate than the hp method) some kind of big feline. maybe a panther - a black panther would be the ideal - aloof, predatory, dangerous, fiercely independent.

best quality: besides his obvious strenghts as a leader and warrior, the way he cares for his comrades-in-arms. it's very hard to gain his trust and respect, but once you have it, it's forever. he's pragmatic and ruthless, yes, but he also has a huge capacity for compassion and friendship. not that he would be effusive about his affections, of course.

worst quality: none, he's absolutely perfect ❤ jklsdfhjk jokes aside, he really struggles to open up (a serious understatement), idt he ever talked about his traumatic past with anyone. i mean, maybe he mentioned it to hange and erwin (erwin knew him when he was still an undergound thug, so...), but... he's not great with feelings. despite his apathetic, intimidating mask, he feels and cares deeply, but he has a long history with losing the people he loves, so he tries to not personally care about his squadmates, which can be both a strenght and a weakness. of course, he spectacularly fails at this.

ship them with: well, it's not a secret that i'm a huge rivamika fan, this ship is almost literally consuming my waking thoughts lmao. imo they're perfectly compatible: very similar personalities (stoic, the strongest warriors, absolutely terrifying on the battlefield but with a soft underbelly), very similar pasts/experiences, so many parallels that it's actually ridiculous, etc. i love how they're both each other's equals and likeness (yes, i took it from jane eyre. no, i don't regret anything lmao). a lot of tropes i love, too: Terrible First Impression (the Pride and Prejudice vibes are so strong with these two, you have no idea), Kindred Spirits/Mirror Images, Veteran/Young Prodigy, The Last of Their Kind, even Height Difference lmao. i could write a whole rivamika manifesto, but this is already too long. (maybe for some other time 👀) i would've loved for their dynamic to be more explored in canon but alas, isayama clearly didn't give a shit about the ackerman legacy, he just used it as a plot shortcut to give them conveniently unique powers, since they never really talked about it 🙄 (and before some troll comes into my askbox shouting "you iNcEsT fReAk!!!!1!!", they're only very distantly related. we know shit about the ackermans but we know for sure that they've got at least several generations between them. biologically their shared DNA is 0%, obviously they don't see each other as family, all the eldians have a dead ass common ancestor from 2000 years ago so they're all basically ⁓related anyway. if you really wanna scream about i.ncest, go watch got/dark/the borgias and shut the fuck up please. or alternatively go outside and touch some grass) sorry for the rant, uh. anyway, i can also see levi/erwin. idk if i'd ever care enough to read a fic about them (i'm usually a huge multishipper, but for some weird reason not when it comes to rivamika? same with braime and kastle tbh), but still, i can see it.

brotp them with: hange and erwin, obv. veteran trio >>> ema trio, sorry not sorry (at least h. and e. died before yams had the chance to ruin their character arcs)

needs to stay away from: ...uh, filth, i guess? lmao

misc. thoughts: besides the stupid teenage fangirl crush i have on him, i'm genuinely fascinated by the man himself. he's a huge mess of a contradictions, and yet somehow it works: he's violent and brash and kind of an asshole, but also has a strong moral code and integrity; he's obv very skilled at all the killing/torturing stuff and yet he has a huge respect for life; he's got a potty mouth to say the least, and yet some very aristocratic manners/tastes (the way he sits, his preference for tea and usually refined clothes); he comes from what's supposed to be an illustrous bloodline, he's methodical and very precise, and yet he was born and raised in the underground, he's been used to filth and blood and poverty since he was a child, kenny of all people was his father figure, and probably has known no other life than a perennial survival mode existence. he's "humanity's strongest soldier", but while well-built he's also small, the david to the titans' goliah, and probably not what people would assume a born warrior looks like. he's also one of the few characters who stayed true to himself and his original characterization until the end, bless you smol king ❤

(okay, this is getting long!)

mikasa:

hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

this is actually easy: mikasa belongs to hufflepuff and no, i won't take criticism (just joking lol). enough with this "hufflepuffs are fluffy puppies/Cinnamon Rolls <3" thing: mikasa values loyalty and duty more than anything else. she's also hardworking... and fierce, strong, lethal. yes, hufflepuff and lethal are not mutually exclusive concepts.

daemon: (finally the better option) a she-wolf, fiercely protective of her pack.

best quality: loyal, brave, incredibly strong (alongside her more fragile qualities). practical and level-headed on the battlefield, at least when eren is not included in the picture.

worst quality: struggles to let go of the past (understandable, considering her trauma). tunnel-vision when it comes to eren, obv. extreme levels of delusions ("if only i spoke openly about my romantic feelings for him - as if i didn't made them abundantly clear in ⁓6 years - he wouldn't kill 80% of humanity :(((" lmao okay. just. okay), but that's more on the writing. she's sadly more static than any other main character throughtout the whole series.

ship them with: see above :) but recently i've also started to be intrigued by mikasa/annie and mikasa/sasha. also, i'm sympathetic to jeankasa fans, though i don't actually care for the ship.

brotp them with: EMA trio, especially armin+mikasa. their friendship is so beautiful and special. also sasha.

needs to stay away from: ...... eren, at least romantically. again, that's more on the writing than anything else, but e.remika unfortunately encompasses many tropes i loathe with all the strength of my old shriveled heart: childhood friends-to lovers where the (male) childhood friend doesn't acknolewdge/is completely indifferent to the other (female) friend's romantic feelings, she hopelessly pines for him for years without anything more than a cold shoulder... until in the last chapter it's revealed that he loved her all along and doesn't "want other men to have her!!! :((" (then why did you have no reaction whatsoever to jean's years-long crush on her while she was jealous of any vaguely female-shaped human being you were friendly to, including hange? are you that dumb, man?); the female character's development and entire arc 100% revolves around the male protagonist - she has no goals, no dreams of her own except staying with him forever and ever; the romance is based on an idealized childhood dream, therefore reaffirming those childish illusions would make the character regress, not actually grow up (and nope, epilogue!jk doesn’t count; that also lacks build-up - i would’ve said the same about rm as well, so it’s not about shipping, guys, it really isn’t - and mikasa needed an inner change; getting married to another man but still praying to eren’s shrine is not substitute to actual development lol). post-time skip she's never really frustrated/angry with him, they never get a confrontation about him becoming a, y'know, mass-murderer of gigantic (pun intended) proportions; she puts him on a pedestal, and never stops idealizing him/never sees him for what he actually is (the narrative framing him as some kind of tragic martyr/saint eren from paradis with zero agency and basically... no clear motivation for the abovementioned mass murder, and not the actual complex tragic anti-hero/villain motivated by revenge and righteous fury he deserved to be, does not help). it lacks a good or even decent build-up - it's basically all tell and not show. now, if they'd actually been childhood friends to enemies to lovers/mutually co-dependent... it could have been interesting. sadly, it's not my cup of tea. of course this is just my personal preference, no hard feelings to the shippers.

misc. thoughts: enormous potential. she's been my fav female character since s1 - and ah, i miss s1!mikasa, when she had actually other stuff to do besides mothering eren. i love that she's the strongest warrior (second only to levi, obv), that her skills are never called into questions despite her gender, i love how she stands up for herself and the people she loves, that she may seem cold and stoic and yet has a such a huge heart, that she's not perfect but also sometimes awe-inspiring. sadly, she never really gets out of eren's shadow; what she lacks is an arc focused on herself. that's why imo getting deeper into the ackerman lore would've helped (also, you cannot make the main female character and the most popular male character descend from the same Unique Bloodline or whatever, and never really make them acknowledge it out loud; as a writer, you just can't lol). my spite is so strong that i'm currently writing a ridiculously pretentious fic that's 70% development for her character, to give her a voice, and 30% ackerthirsting. (yes, that's the fic i'm always vagueblogging about lmao, rip @ my brain). if any other rivamika fan is interested… mind you, it’s in italian tho, and idt i have the skills to translate into english.

misa:

hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

daemon: mmh, maybe some kind of butterfly? beautiful, colorful, and short-lived.

best quality: glorious fashion sense, more inventive and ingenious than fans actually give her credit for.

worst quality: shallow, impulsive, and obv her dependence on/obsession with light (which stems from trauma btw, but still… the very opposite of a relationship between equals).

ship them with: rem, kinda (monster/human ftw!). also weirdly enough mogi, a little bit? she deserves someone who actually respects her… though she’s far from being a perfect angel. she may actually be crazier than light on some aspects. but in this house we stan evil ladies anyway, so i have no problem with that <3

brotp them with: uh, idk, maybe matsuda?

needs to stay away from: obv light. also takada.

misc. thoughts: a tragic victim of sexist writing. she may be… unhinged to say the least, but she didn’t deserve the abuse she got from light (and from the fans). the female characters’ writing in dn is so bad that idk if it’s on purpose, to kinda mirror the reality of women in a patriarchal society (dependent on men, housewives whose life entirely revolves around their husband/boyfriend etc.), or just casual misogyny lol. it’s even more baffling since we don’t know the author’s gender (they may be a man, a woman, nb, anything really). i tend for the latter option tho.

aegon greyjoy (now, i wasn’t expecting him lol):

hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

i’m so sorry, i haven’t the slightest idea lmao. maybe gryffindor? mind you, it’s been a long time since i’ve re-read the books, so i don’t have many thoughts about him.

daemon: maybe it’s cliché, but some kind of fish/squid lmao

best quality: ugh, i really can’t remember much from his chapters :(( he’s not a coward, i guess? (lame answer, sorry!)

worst quality: definitely his religious fanaticism.

ship them with: no one.

brotp them with: uh… his family, ig? except euron.

needs to stay away from: obv euron. brr ://

misc. thoughts: i genuinely like the greyjoys chapters, though i vastly prefer the martells (with the exception of theon and asha, bcs i love them). yes, they’re deranged. yes, victarion is… well, victarion lol. but the drowned god religion is actually interesting, grrm knows how to write trauma - every time aeron mentions euron and that freaking door i’m like… :// - and the tragedy of it all… just great writing all around.

okay, that’s the end lmao. thank you so much, love!!! ❤❤

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #asks #cafeleningrad #if *anyone* dares to start stupid wank on my super niche blog they'll be blocked on sight i'm warning you #snk salt

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onthevirgeofdestruction · 4 years

Link

Dreaming While I Wake

Sanders Sides Foster Care AU - Roman-centric Angst & Hurt/Comfort & Abuse Recovery

Roman tries to be upbeat and hopeful despite all the shit that’s happened to him. And a lot of shit has. Luckily, his new foster home is with two literal rays of sunshine (and a sarcastic asshole).

Words: 4,059 Warnings: Death Mention, Doctor Mention, Suicidal Ideation, Foster Care Issues, Anxiety Attack, Bad Self-Image, Bad Self-Talk, Self-Hatred, Stealing/Theft, Desire to be Punished, Food Issues Characters: Roman, Patton, Thomas, Virgil Universe: Dreaming While I Wake Genre: Angst/Family

Chapter 16

chapter 1 for new readers - ffn mirror

“Are you doing okay, kiddo?” Patton asked, sitting across the couch and looking at him with those damned kind eyes. Roman didn’t respond. He didn’t feel like he could even form the words without breaking apart. He didn’t even want to think about how not all right he was at the moment, much less articulate it. Patton seemed to get the picture after a lengthy pause, because he changed the subject. “So what were you looking to buy that you wanted a job for?” Patton asked politely. “If you need to sign it, just hold up the letters long enough that I can read it,” Patton added after a prolonged moment of silence. Roman held up his hand to sign the letters, but kept a hold of the glass of water between his legs with the other hand and didn’t look away from focusing on the melting ice cubes in the water.

“D…S…? Is that right?” Patton said, sounding very confused. After a moment it seemed to click with him. “Like the Nintendo? Kiddo, I think Tomathy had one in his office he doesn’t use,” Patton said plainly, sounding like he shifted on the couch. “I don’t think he’d care if you wanted to borrow it. What game did you want to play on it?” Roman looked up and scrunched up his face, trying to remember that one what had dragons and farming one of his old friends really liked. It took a minute, but he eventually raised his hand to sign the letters. “R-u-n-e-f-a-c-t-o-r-y? What’s that? F-a-r-m? Oh, one of those farming games? Did you want to play something relaxing?” Roman nodded and signed yes. Patton smiled lightly, but his eyes were still laced with concern. As long as he didn’t vocally acknowledge it right now. Roman signed why he wanted to play it. “B-e-d? Not in bed, I hope. B-4? Oh, before. I don’t think Thomas has that one,” Roman shrugged. He was intending to save up for a DS in the first place, buying the game was assumed.

“Thomas doesn’t have what?” Thomas asked, coming back down the stairs. He didn’t look too distressed, so hopefully that meant Virgil was okay. Part of him wanted to ask, but that meant that meant he had to acknowledge it as his fault and that he also wasn’t okay and Roman wasn’t capable of doing that at the moment.

“Run-e… factory, I think? Roman wanted to play it to calm down before bed,” Patton explained and nodded to Roman.

“Runny Factory?” Thomas asked, making a baffled expression and looked to Roman. Roman spelled rune again for him. “Oh! Rune Factory! No, I don’t have that. That’s a fantasy game, right? I’ve heard good things about it, the storyline and music are supposed to be superb,” Thomas said and Roman nodded silently. He just liked the fantasy element and thought breaking up the farming with monster murder would be more interesting than just farming. Breaking up the monster murder with something laid back also seemed cool. He took a deep breath and sipped his water again. His throat was still so tight it hurt a little going down, but he was feeling like maybe he could continue to be okay as long as nobody made him think about himself. “Hey, uh, Roman, did you know?” Thomas asked a little awkwardly and Roman looked up at him in confusion. “About… Virgil?” Thomas finished. Roman put the glass of water between his legs to free up his hand.

‘What about him?’ Roman signed.

“Are you having trouble talking? I’m not any further than learning the alphabet yet, I’m sorry,” Thomas said, sitting next to Thomas. Roman motioned for him to come closer and Thomas complied and leaned in.

“Know what?” Roman whispered. He could mange whispering right now. He was just trying his damnedest not to break down again. He was not stuck in the shitty boat Virgil was. He picked back up his water cup and held it with both hands.

“That maybe he also has PTSD from… other homes?” Thomas asked softly, looking disconcerted.

“What do you mean also?” Roman whispered.

“The ER doctor thinks you have it. Do you remember being in the ER?” Thomas asked, sounding concerned.

“Not much,” Roman said under his breath. This was going into territory Roman wasn’t so comfortable in.

“There’s stuff about PTSD I guess we didn’t realize until now, I guess. Like that it wasn’t just about certain triggers,” Thomas clarified. “Did he say anything to you?” Thomas asked with concern.

“He might have mentioned it,” Roman whispered. “He noticed I was… worried about you guys hitting me and he told me I was safe. Then explained that it’s why he noticed. He implied he didn’t like talking about it. I kind of agree with him,” He admitted. He didn’t want to talk about it right now, for sure, but talking about it any time wasn’t ideal.

“I wish one of you would have told us, but I can’t fault you for not wanting to think about it,” Thomas looked frustrated for a moment, but his face softened again when he saw Roman back up slightly. “Have you heard of age regression?” Thomas asked. That seemed out of the blue. It baffled Roman enough that he no longer was shying away from Thomas.

“That’s that thing perverts do, isn’t it?” Roman asked quietly and raised an eyebrow at Thomas, a little confused on why he would bring it up.

“What?” Thomas looked just as bewildered as Roman felt. “Oh, I hate having to google these things,” He muttered. “Not that. This is medical,” Thomas said more clearly and sighed, shaking his head. Oh, well, that’s good, maybe? “Sometimes certain triggers can cause age regression in PTSD patients. Do you know how I know how I know you had a gun pulled on you?” Thomas asked, looking like he was examining Roman now. It unnerved him a bit.

“No,” Roman muttered, watching Thomas nervously in return and gripping the cold glass firmly.

“Because you told me. You were a very mouthy 13-year-old. You also thought I was Satan for a bit,” Thomas said, sounding kind of amused. Roman stared at him for a moment while he processed what Thomas said. When he realized he that he might have cussed out Thomas, his eyes widened and he shut them tight, trying to to freak out. Thomas didn’t deserve his defensive bullshit. He had to put up an aggressive front or people wouldn’t take him seriously. It didn’t pay off for him in the end, though, and he regretted ever doing it.

“Sorry,” Roman choked out and tensed up.

“No, no, it was kind of cute,” Thomas chuckled weakly and looked to Roman reassuringly. Roman took a deep breath and tried to settle down. Cute wasn’t exactly what Roman was going for, but at least he didn’t hurt Thomas’s feelings or anything. “Well, Other than the fact that you were disappointed you didn’t die. You don’t still feel like that, do you?” Thomas asked softly, sounding sad. Roman’s shoulders flinched, and he swallowed hard.

“Doesn’t everybody?” Roman whispered, joking weakly. The small broken laugh that accompanied it wasn’t the most convincing thing he’d ever done.

“No, Roman, that’s not normal,” Thomas said, putting his arm on the couch over Roman’s shoulder’s without touching him. Roman could feel the heat from his arm but appreciated not being touched. He was even closer to breaking down now, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out. “You got a referral for a psychiatrist at the ER and I’ll be making you an appointment, okay?”

“No, Thomas, please! I’ll be good, I’ll try not to-” Roman started babbling loudly, shooting a desperate look up to him.

“Hey, kiddo, it’s okay!” Patton held his hands up and cut Roman off. Roman held his lips closed tight in a thin line.

“Why are you scared of the psychiatrist?” Thomas looked pointedly at Roman.

“My… They’ll know- The foster people. That I’m a bad kid. And then they won’t be able to place me, and then I’ll be stuck in one of those holding centers, they’re worse than the group homes, they’re really awful and that’s… I just can’t,” Roman rambled choked on a sob. He sniffled and dropped back against his cup, a tear breaking loose despite how hard he fought against it.

“Why are you worried about going to a holding center?” Patton asked, sounding concerned.

“’Cuz having mental health record is bad and harder to place since I’d be special needs,” Roman mumbled between his legs, starting to cry.

“Do you still think we’re sending you back on Friday, Roman?” Thomas sounded sad.

“Maybe,” Roman breathed.

“I missed that,” Thomas said. Roman looked up and glanced at Thomas.

“You should! I don’t belong here! I belong somewhere crappy where I’m too busy trying to survive to have to think about things. I never… I never struggled like this. At least not until I got used to not having Remus around,” Roman sighed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He and Remus had a shitty time when the memories were fresh, but losing Remus was worse.

“Actually, sometimes people who have been in a hard situation for a long time usually struggle in more positive environments because they’re not sure how to process love and support. Did getting separated from your brother really hurt?” Patton piped up, sounding very compassionate when he suggested an explanation. Roman barely understood what he meant, but he could follow the question easily.

“It was like they took half of me away when they tore us apart,” Roman grumbled.

“Maybe because it was the last bit of stability and support you had, you closed off and just tried to deal with the situation, and you’ve been doing that ever since,” Patton offered, continuing his explanation. Roman couldn’t completely follow, though.

“What?” Roman asked. His head hurt and he didn’t comprehend a lick of that. Some more tears broke free, and he sniffled again.

“I think you belong here,” Patton said resolutely. Roman could follow that much easier. Wait, what the fuck? No, he couldn’t!

“What?” Roman asked more incredulously, wiping his eyes.

“You love Disney and The Princess Bride and books and you’re kind and considerate and quick and Lita loves you. And Virgil’s opened up more since you got here, so I think he likes you, too,” Patton said, holding up a finger. “You fit in just fine! All the other stuff isn’t you. It’s what you’ve been through,” He smiled brightly, looking confident. That didn’t make sense, though. He was a fuck up for a castle keep full of reasons.

“I wasn’t able to sleep or keep track of time or sit still or do well in school before everything else. There’s plenty of stuff that I’m bad at, that’s all me,” Roman grumbled in objection.

“And there're ways you can learn to cope with all of that when you’re somewhere safe,” Patton provided.

“I can’t stay here,” Roman rested his chin on his legs and stared forward, feeling despondent. He couldn’t stop the stray tears, but he was too empty to freak out anymore. Thomas looked bewildered and sad out of the corner of his eyes, but he said nothing.

“And why is that?” Patton asked evenly, though his eyes looked sad.

“I’ll…” Roman dropped his head into his legs again. He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“You’ll what?” Patton urged him to continue.

“It’s selfish, and it’s unrealistic,” Roman grumbled, shifting to sip his water. A timer in the kitchen dinged and Thomas got up. Roman flinched from the motion and sighed. He was so on edge it physically hurt. He was buzzing with restlessness but too tired and sad to even start figuring out how he could fix it.

“How about I decide that?” Patton asked softly.

“I have to get to go to a home that’s willing to take two kids when Remus also needs placement. I’ll never see him again until we turn 18 if I don’t. If he doesn’t hate me by then, anyway,” Roman sighed again and looked up to the ceiling.

“I promise we’ll take you to see him when we can, Roman,” Patton said, and he sounded like he meant it, unlike most other times he’s heard it. Though he could never really trust adults meant it when they offered, though. He’d been burned too many times before. Patton probably only meant it at the moment, but it would be too much when the time came, just like always.

“But I won’t get to be his brother again,” Roman said despondently. “Whisper nonsense words and have him completely understand me. Play fight like the fate of the world depends on the outcome. Write stories with him that turn into whole universes. All the stuff we used to have. The brother stuff you can only have when you’re a kid and you live together,” Patton looked somber but didn’t say anything. There really wasn’t anything to say.

“I hope you’re hungry, Roman,” Thomas called from the kitchen.

“You know I’m not,” Roman groaned loudly.

“Too bad!” Thomas called back. Roman sighed and sipped his water again.

“I would miss you guys… I’m not trying to say I don’t… appreciate you being nice and stuff. As much as it drives me up the wall,” Roman chuckled weakly and Patton pouted at that. “I just… I’ve been going this long on the hope I’d get him back. I got through everything I did because I never let go of the hope of being reunited, you know? I just can’t let go of that. And I don’t want to make it harder to be placed and then lessen my chances even further of getting to be with him again. I’ll be good, I promise, okay? I just can’t have that go on my records,” Roman begged him.

“How about I talk to your caseworker about it when we see him Friday? See what we can do without it going on your state records?” Patton offered gently, looking strangely conciliatory for someone who did nothing wrong.

“I’m a ward of the state who is just staying at your house. They own my ass,” Roman bit, though there was very little energy or aggression behind it, mostly just tired frustration with his situation.

“Roman, I know you’re upset, but you don’t have to be mean,” Patton chided, frowning slightly.

“Sorry,” Roman sighed heavily. “Right after I said I’d be good and everything,” Roman muttered to himself sourly. Roman wished he knew how to stop being a bastard already.

“It doesn’t hurt to ask,” Patton said. “And I’m going to either way as your guardian, but I’d much rather you be on board with it,” Patton said gesturing with his hand.

“Thanks for your honesty, I guess,” Roman rolled his eyes. “I’m on board as long as it doesn’t hurt my chances,” It was just asking, not acting in it. Roman leaned back again and put his cup down on the side table. He was so fucking itchy still. Thomas couldn’t see him, though, it was just Patton in the room. He probably wouldn’t freak out at a little itch. Roman scratched at the edges of the bandages and exhaled in relief as he itched at the adhesive, which stung slightly.

“No scratching!” Thomas called from the kitchen and Roman froze in complete and utter bafflement.

“What the actual fuck, Thomas?” Roman groaned loudly enough to project into the kitchen.

“Dad powers,” Thomas said seriously. “Apologize for cursing,”

“Sorry for saying fuck,” Roman huffed and dropped his arms in defeat to the couch with a light thud.

“Roman,” Patton said firmly, furrowing his eyebrows at him.

“Sorry for saying it again,” Roman rolled his eyes and saw Virgil come back down the stairs. He looked pretty okay other than kind of tired, which was relieving.

‘Saying fuck in front of Pat twice?’ Virgil signed. ‘Props,’ He fingerspelled.

‘Nice to see your dumb face again,’ Roman signed back.

‘Can’t say the same to you,’ Virgil signed and smirked at him before sitting back down at his controller and starting to play again. He glanced over to Patton, who mostly just seemed to be considering something. Roman was just glad the conversation was over. He turned his eyes back to the TV screen to watch the game again. He slowly loosened back up as he watched Virgil play. The long scarf physics were really eye-catching, and he just let himself drift to that.

“Dinner’s ready!” Thomas called after an interminable period of silently watching the cloaked guy running through the level. Patton smiled at them and got up and headed to the kitchen. Virgil looked Roman up and down after he paused the game.

‘You don’t look capable of crime,’ Virgil signed and looked at him disbelievingly. Wow, Virgil didn’t beat around the bush.

‘Thanks?’ Roman signed, raising an eyebrow. Maybe that was a good thing?

‘Can you do anything other than sell drugs?’ Virgil signed.

‘You cut right to the point,’ Roman made a face at him. He wasn’t sure what Virgil was getting at, but it was weird to straight-up ask.

‘Can you?’ Virgil signed again.

‘I can pick pockets and pick locks,’ Roman fingerspelled. He could do other things, too, but he wasn’t as ashamed of those things as the others.

‘No shit?’ Virgil signed and some excitement in his eyes leaked into the disbelieving expression.

‘Seriously,’ Roman signed back and nodded.

‘You’re lying,’ Virgil frowned. Fucker. Roman wasn’t lying.

‘I’ll prove it,’ Roman signed, getting up from the couch. He had to talk carefully and tenderly to the kitchen on his fucked up feet, but found a stride.

Thomas was still at the stove getting things on to serving dishes and Patton was putting water cups at the table. This was too freaking easy. Roman picked Thomas’s wallet as he passed and nonchalantly slid it in his pocket. He sat down and smiled at Patton, who smiled back and sat down. Virgil joined them at the table and stared at Roman, clearly waiting for him to do something. Roman smirked and pulled Thomas’s wallet out, throwing it at Virgil. He caught it and looked between the wallet and Roman. Patton looked up from serving himself food and saw them.

“Virgil, why do you have your wallet at the table?” Patton asked, peering closer. “Actually, isn’t that Thomas’s? Did you find it somewhere?” Patton asked, taking it from Virgil’s hands. “Virgil found your wallet, Thomas,” Patton said as Thomas walked over with the last of the food and placed it down on the table, looking confused.

“What? I don’t remember taking it out. Thank you, Virgil,” Thomas said, taking the wallet back from Patton and sliding it back in his back pocket before sitting down. Roman leaned on the table and smirked, raising his eyebrow at Virgil in anticipation.

‘You absolute bastard,’ Virgil signed, looking extremely impressed. Roman took a bow.

‘Careful, it’s not all I can do,’ Roman sat back in his chair, looking concernedly at all the food now.

‘Don’t threaten me with a good time,’ Virgil signed back before reaching over to serve himself a giant pile of tater tots. He served a single tater tot to Roman with a smirk before reaching out to grab a piece of chicken.

“I’m not beyond serving you food and sitting here until you eat it,” Thomas eyed Roman. Roman sighed and grabbed a small piece of chicken and a single scoop of vegetables. “That’s half as much as Virgil is eating, Roman,” Thomas said critically.

“I’m 100% positive he’s powered by a black hole,” Roman objected sourly, motioning to Virgil.

‘Thanks,’ Virgil smirked and started eating.

“Teenagers are biologically hungry, and you are not exempt,” Thomas corrected him.

“It’s fine,” Roman huffed.

“I think we’ve successfully established you don’t have the best impression of what fine is, Roman,” Thomas said critically and leaned back in his chair.

“Thomas, sassing Roman isn’t nice,” Patton chided him. “Just take a tiny bit more, okay, kiddo?” Patton looked at him pleadingly. Virgil served Roman another single tater tot.

‘There. More,’ Virgil signed and Roman laughed. This fucking guy.

“Thank you,” Roman smiled and signed as he spoke.

“Virgil, don’t encourage him,” Thomas frowned and chided Virgil.

‘Sure. You suck, Roman,’ Virgil signed with a lopsided grin.

“Oh, I’m wounded,” Roman put his palm to his forehead and leaned back dramatically. It did actually start to smell good, at least. Roman began eating slowly, trying to get it over with, but the more he ate the easier it finally felt and the more his stomach woke up. It stopped hurting when he ate, and he ate more comfortably. “Thanks for dinner, Mr. Sanders,” He said absentmindedly as he reached out for another serving of vegetables.

“Um, you’re welcome, Roman,” Thomas sounded a little confused, but the food was good and Roman didn’t bother looking up from eating. He grabbed a second piece of chicken, as well, after finishing the first one. Virgil knocked on the table and Roman looked up at him.

‘Are you going to tell them you stole his wallet?’ Virgil asked. Roman put down his fork and swallowed.

‘Why?’ Roman signed back, confused. Tell them he stole from Thomas? That was dumb.

‘Because they won’t be mad and I want to see their faces,’ Virgil signed. Maybe they wouldn’t and everything would be chill. But if they did get mad, maybe he’d finally get punished and fell right in the freaking world again. It seemed like a win-win scenario with a bonus of amusing Virgil.

‘Fair,’ Roman shrugged. He finally felt awake and feeling impulsive. Virgil laughs, well, as much as he does, and Roman gets sent to his room without dessert or something assuredly way too tame for what he did.

“You didn’t lose your wallet, Thomas. I picked your pocket,” Roman said flippantly, eating one of his two tater tots. They both stared at him dubiously and exchanged a look before looking back at Roman. Virgil leaned forward to watch, looking amused already.

“…Why?” Patton asked after a quiet moment of confusion. Virgil did that silent laughing thing behind his hand.

“He didn’t believe me,” Roman pointed to Virgil. “I didn’t take anything. I don’t think it’s right to steal money. I just wanted to prove I could,” Roman explained with a smug smile and a little shrug. Roman had enough money stolen from him that he genuinely couldn’t bear to do it to anyone else anymore.

“Why can you…” Patton started to ask but trailed off. He probably answered his own question as Roman raised his eyebrow and leaned on his arm.

“I learned how to do lots of things,” Roman passed his hand over the tater tot on his plate and it disappeared. Roman passed it quickly behind his back and popped it in his mouth while they were all looking at the plate. “Magic!” He announced. Stoners fucking loved sleight of hand. He once got a fifty dollar tip from a guy who was completely blasted.

Lita weaved under his feet and he shivered from the dog fur through his sock. His feet were still feeling raw from his run this morning. Roman pulled them up and went back to eating his vegetables. Thomas looked shocked and Patton beamed in delight. Virgil looked unimpressed as usual and returned to going to town on the pile of tater tots.

“Do you know any other magic tricks, Roman?” Patton asked with a sparkle in his eye.

“I know sleight of hand and card tricks, not any magic-magic tricks,” Roman shrugged. “Nothing fancy,”

“Well, will you show me one after dinner?” Patton smiled, returning to cutting up his chicken.

“Do you know the four kings in the tower?” Roman asked, interested in getting to show off.

“No,” Patton shook his head, looking invested already.

“Then that it shall be,” Roman declared regally, twisting his fork in the air. He rolled his eyes at his own idiocy and returned to eating.

Personal Taglist: @bunny222 @elizabutgayer @prinxietyforever @kanene-yaaay-o-retorno @the-sympathetic-villain @croftersjam15

the taglist repository:

High school: @dragonwithproblems @starlight-era @averykedavra @potatsanderssides

Roman Angst: @k1ngtok1

Hurt Comfort: @callboxkat @nonasficcollection @supernovainthenightsky @evoodo123

Roman-Centric: @smileyzs @robinwritesshitposts @thatgaydemigodnerd

Fostering AU: @i-am-not-a-dinner-roll

literally everything sanders sides: @katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven @ananonsplace @ollyollyoxinfree

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reading-writing-revolution · 5 years

Text

A person asked the question, "Why are people so hostile towards President Donald Trump?"

Chris O'Leary:

Why Liberals (And not-so liberals) are against President Trump.

C.) He pretends at Christianity to court the Religious Right but fails to live anything resembling a Christ-Like Life.

D.) His nationalist “America First” message effectively alienates us and removes us from our place as leaders in the international community.

E.) His ideas on “Keeping us safe” are all thinly veiled ideas to remove our freedoms, he is, after all, an authoritarian first. They also are simply bad ideas.

G.) He behaves unethicaly and always has. As a businessman, he constantly left in his wake unpaid contractors and invoices, litigation, broken promises, whatever he could get away with.

K.) He is systematically steamrolling regulations specifically designed to keep a disaster like the 2007 subprime mortgage crisis from happening again.

0.) He does not have the temperament to lead this nation. He is Thin Skinned, childish, and a bully, never mind misogynistic, boorish, rude, and incapable of civil discourse.

//Meanwhile, I’m not a Liberal either, and I’m a veteran of 20 years with 13 deployments to combat zones.//

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shego1142 · 4 years

Note

Hi, um... so I saw your btd and infinity train post and just gotta say, super glad I'm not the only one that thought that! Now that season 3 is officially all out I'm really curious if you've seen it yet and what you thought.

Goes without saying but MAJOR infinity train season 3 spoilers below!

This is also discussing an 18+ horror-porn game which features a lot of gore and other potentially triggering subjects so dni if you are not 18 or older or if gore/murder/etc make you uncomfy!

I just watched the finale. I’m like... in shock?

I mean by no means was or is Simon my fave at all (he just looks a lot like my ultimate comfort character lol) but wow... just... wow

It is a lot different when like... comparing btd with infinity train too tho!

Like, I feel like the entire /point/ of btd is to let your morality go. Like, it’s a horror-porn game.

It’s meant to be like “what up u fucks, being murdered is sexy! Yes Strade daddy kick my fucking head in! Lawrence pls squeeze my actual literal beating heart you weird necrophile”

And meanwhile infinity train is like “we are all just a collection of our actions, we all deserve the chance to redeem ourselves but sometimes we may not be able to due to the trauma we’ve been put through and the finite amount of time we have”

And I personally believe that both of those facets of humanity are okay to explore in fiction. It’s healthy to explore them in fact.

That said like, yea Simon is an asshole but I still liked him. Still think he deserved to redeem himself.

Still think it’s unfair that the train even happened to him at all, because he probably would have been better off at 10 years old with people who could look at him and say “yo, kid, here’s a therapist” instead of him being led by someone who is just as much a scared kid as he is.

Him doing what he’s always been taught to do and suddenly being told it’s wrong... as someone who’s autistic I can tell you that that’s a world shattering circumstance.

Idk if Simon was autistic or not, tbh I was too freaked out by how much he looked like Lawrence to notice much else about him...

Idk personally I liked the finale even if I feel like it wasn’t fair. I like the story even if it ripped me up emotionally, even if it’s making me think about things I wish I weren’t thinking about (like whether or not I’m a good person and whether or not redemption is possible and whether or not somewhere somehow those who couldn’t redeem themselves in this life are able to redeem themselves elsewhere)

I feel hollow after watching the finale, but in a good way.

Yes I would adore beyond all belief to have like, a fic it fic or something that gives Simon a second chance... like idk, maybe he wakes up in the real world from a coma? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And maybe when she gets out (probably very soon) Grace finds him.

But maybe that’s just it. Maybe that’s the end, full stop, he died, he’s gone, he lived a shitty life from ages 10 to what? 16? 18?

Idk... you asked about my thoughts and rn the main thing I’m thinking is just how much I really do hate how the fandom is this big jumbled mess of completely missing the point.

But anyway, yea no I lost my absolute shit when I saw him in season 2

Like I was /obsessed/ because of how freaking much he looked like Lawrence. Still am, bc wow the hair down look was wild too!

Especially with the “he went insane” scene... very Lawrence.

I guess that brings me back around to what I was saying about btd and infinity train being ultimately so different too.

With Lawrence I personally am like “yes my horrible son, you are a bad socially anxious murder boy and your entire purpose is to murder. Continue your murdering. Especially if it’s me or characters I relate to because I’m dealing with some shit and imagining you murdering me helps me deal with it, you funky little weird coping mechanism you.”

With Simon I’m like “You’re an ass. It’s not your fault though. I would be an ass too if I had been taught from age ten to do things the way you were taught to do them. Your actions are horrible and if you had had a fair shot at learning personal responsibility I would argue that you should be held responsible for them. But since you didn’t, since you spent your entire time on the train without growing, staying stagnant and forcing yourself to regress because it’s what you’d been taught was right, what you thought was right, all I can do is pity you. Your purpose was to learn to be a better person and you failed and I’m sorry.”

They’re ultimately very different characters for me despite how similar they are (obviously the way they look exactly alike but they’re also mentally unstable, started killing at a young age, have anger issues, etc)

I adore infinity train, and all its characters honestly. I really do hope there’s some form of closure for Simon but I’m not expecting it either.

Right now I just wish the fandom wasn’t trying to tear apart those who want closure for him. That’s so... outside of the point of the entire show.

Idk this goes a lot into my philosophy on life in general too I think, basically I don’t think there are people who are irredeemable. Not on shows, not in real life. I think there are just people who need help. I think that people deserve to be treated fairly and with respect regardless of what horrible actions they may have committed.

I guess I’m just really irritated rn at how some of the fandom seems to think that it was Simon’s “right and just punishment” that he died.

It wasn’t a punishment. It was just something that happened. People die. It happens. He didn’t die because he was a bad person. At least I don’t think so.

And it doesn’t make me, or any other fans, or Grace, or the apex kids bad people to mourn for him. For his lost opportunities. He was a traumatised child and he’s gone now.

And the ghom? Wasn’t it shown in season one that the ghoms are Amelia’s fault anyway?

Personally I think the entire point of the train is to work out your problems, full stop.

I think the only way someone is /meant/ to be able to die from the train is to die of old age.

The ghoms are accidental. They’re the product of someone else’s actions.

And sometimes we fall prey to that. And I think it’s okay to look at that and say “well that’s not fair.”

Because it isn’t.

I don’t know if Simon could have gotten better. Maybe he could have?

In the scene where he loses his sanity there for a moment he really did show signs of immense remorse and even confusion.

But honestly? Even if he wasn’t able to get better he didn’t deserve to die. And it disturbs me that a lot of peeps seem to think he did.

Anyway sorry this turned into a bit more of a rant than I meant for it to!!! >~<

Like I said I /just/ watched it!

But yea as far as Simon Laurent looking like Lawrence goes, I’m still a bit freaked out by that. The amount of times I’ve gone to write “Lawrence” instead of Simon in this post is way to high lol!

Personally I wanna know how gato feels about him honestly! Like she’s Lawrence’s creator and Simon really does seem like such a nod to her character!

Thanks for the ask, I got to vent a good bit! Idk if this is the convo you wanted from me tho lol :P

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mmacabrera · 5 years

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Della & Launchpad: healthy rivalries and individual developments

I'm a sucker for funny one-sided rivalries in which one of them has absolutely no idea what's going on and it's friendly but the other one just freaking hates the other's guts (be that justified or not), but what actually attracts me about the idea of Della and Launchpad's rivalry is the potential for their individual developments, specifically the one that can be born from Della never actually liking Launchpad but simply accepting him as he is and from LP accepting that Della may never be his friend like everybody else and that is actually a growing point for him.

Let me explain this.

First of all, Della.

Part of Della's journey now back on Earth is for her to accept that time doesn't wait for anybody, and the things she thought she knew had changed. Her actions had consequences and she can't simply expect to knock down the door after a decade and find the things as she left them. Della is optimistic by necessity, if she's not determined to find the good thing in a situation or the right angle to get out from a bad place, she may fall prey to her anxiety.

She is finally home but things have changed, her expectations for her return shatter just like Scrooge's magic feather when he opens the door and sees her. But at least, in her mind, Della can be sure of some things that will never change, especially after she fought so hard to come back: 1. She is HDL's mother and 2. She is the pilot of the family.

Sadly, the first point is threatened by her own ineptitude as she never had to act like a mother before, and the job to be a mother is especially rough for her now that her kids are already grown up and they were never under the same parenting than Donald and Della's. She doesn't know who they are. As Scrooge said, she needs to adapt to all that since she is not their mother yet. And satisfyingly so, she is doing exactly that, slowly but surely she is learning to be a mother instead of a funny aunt and that's super great already.

The thing is that she is already anxious about being a mother and all her failures are starting getting to her, she is already scared that things are too different since she left and the only that may stay the same is that she is the pilot everybody will relay on. It's safe ground for her.

Yeeeeeaaaah, nope. Because in the many changes that time did to the McDucks there's one that could destroy Della's to her core, that could destroy the little confidence she still has in herself, and that one is another pilot on the family. This is because is the only thing she's gonna feel useful with if the whole mother situation doesn't end ok. And there's this person, yeah, a person that she doesn't know at all and appeared when she wasn't there, a person that's a pilot, a person that actually knows her family as it is now and knows how to treat them. In conclusion, a person that could replace her.

That's Della's breaking point for her anxiety.

If Launchpad is everything she thought she should be in the family picture then she can't be in the picture and isn't that terrifying? That after fighting so hard to come back to a family someone else seems to have taken your place? Someone you don't even know at all, that acts so freely and so undisturbed about it?

Unknowingly for Della and Launchpad, LP becomes a symbol for her, he is the embodiment of all she fears. Replacement, the time passing, the things she doesn't know yet. Launchpad is the enemy, and they don't even know how nor why.

Funnily enough, some of this is true the other way around, because Della embodies LP's fears too.

Replacement and being seen as the bad guy. And none of them knows that, either.

Being replaceable is one of LP's insecurities, he feels like that and when he's reassured that he's not, he's obviously very happy about it. It's consistent in 87!DT, 91!DWD and 17!DT. In modern depictions we see this in "Beware the B.U.D.D.Y system!" and in one comic of the 17!DT (I'm relying on memory here so I don't really remember what is called but I'm pretty sure it was a pretty arrogant pilot that made LP insecure, what a jerky individual). We see how being the McDuck Family's pilot/driver is really important to Launchpad, as he feels if he's useful in that way, he isn't going to be replaced.

Another trait of Launchpad is that he believes he is A Good Guy and he feels extremely taken aback when someone immediately doubts it (there's a better take about it on this post because I'm not going to expand on this too much here), and that combined with the fact the "He's Everybody's Friend!" and he's part of the McDuck family could get him in a dire situation when another Good Guy (in this case, Della) questions his intentions, especially when that good guy is part of the family he loves.

Launchpad is an extremely emotionally intelligent person, anyone would have been mad or show at least a little of annoyance at the unsolicited treatment he got subjected by Della, but as LP probably knows Della's situation, he is able to understand that her outburst was not born from meanness but from fear. He accepts it and hopes they may get another chance at being friends. To show Della he's family. Della, on the other hand, actively thinks LP is trying to replace her, to get her out of the family, maybe? And will probably question this in him repeatedly and push him to get out of the family because that's her place.

Thing is, everybody has a breaking point and if Della keeps putting Launchpad in the place of the Bad Guy when he has only been trying to be supportive, even him will end mad. His inability to make Della his friend, to not make her comprehend he's family too, to make her understand he isn't trying to replace her and he's a Good Guy may get to him more than anything.

He may need to actively fight Della because you know what? He isn't going to get replaced either if he can help it, and if he has to fight Della to show it then so be it.

It's not Della's fault, but it isn't Launchpad's either and he shouldn't just accept that, but he may need to accept she may never be his friend. He can't be everybody's friend.

Launchpad symbolizes for Della three obstacles: things she missed and doesn't know about, her old position in the family is threatened, and the most important, her relationship with her kids and her family.

In that regard, Della symbolizes three questions for Launchpad: can I still be part of the family if one of them doesn't like me? Can I still be part of the family if I'm not living there anymore? Can I be part of the family if I'm not useful to them?

Thing is, you'll never like your fears nor your anxiety, but you can learn to live with it and accept it.

Della may be scared to accept that things changed, to accept that she knowing her mistakes does not regress the lost time and to accept that she has a new place on the family, not her old one, a new one with new responsibilities and expectations. But in accepting that the past is the past and that she has to adapt 100% to her new circumstances, she can accept that Launchpad is part of the family, she doesn't like him but she wasn't there at the moment he became a part of the family, and that's symbolizes how Della finally accepts how all the things she missed are missed, that her position in the family is different but that doesn't mean she is not part of it anymore, she can't antagonize every bad thing or ignore it but she can learn to accept them, that they're now a part of her life and she can learn from it better than before. She doesn't like Launchpad but she accepts he gained his place at the family before she could do anything about it and that's maybe a bad thing for her in a way but it has given her a new thing, hey, she has learned that having an obstacle isn't that bad and it'll make her grow into her new position.

Launchpad may be disappointed in the fact that Della may never consider him a friend, but in accepting that he may be able to understand that Della not liking him doesn't mean he's not part of the family or that he's not a Good Guy. He's still part of the family, no matter if he's useful to them or not, if he's living with the family or not, if one member of the family likes him entirely or not. And in accepting that, he could be able to accept Della's proposed rivalry, making it mutual, making it a tool for them both to grow their ability as pilots and to reaffirm their position in the family.

And all that without having to become friends at all.

Everybody loves screaming at how we should have more m/f healthy friendships but we also should have m/f healthy rivalries that don't end in romance either or have an ounce of weird sexual/romantic tension. They truly feel something to admire and be better than the other, and their friction is born from that and not from some unnecessary hidden tension that doesn't add any depth to the characters.

Having a reason for the characters to rival each other that ends in individual developments without having to sacrifice their dispute instead of just making it about the simple "all good guys should be friends" is more fun and interesting to watch.

And it would be really cool if we could have that with LP and Della.

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #launchpad mcquack #della duck #toddy mumbles #long post

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saiilorstars · 4 years

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Next Stop, Everywhere

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: Female OC x 10th Doctor

(OC Face claim: Victoria Camacho)

// Story Masterlist //

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Chapter 6: New, New Beginning

Chapter summary: The Doctor take Joy and Rose on their first trip after his regeneration. Of course, the Doctor never imagined a hospital would full of terrors, including the return of an old enemy who’s taken to inhabiting the bodies of his friends.

"It's the year five billion and twenty three. We're in the galaxy M87 and this is...New Earth," the Doctor announced once we had a beautiful view of a new planet in front of us.

"New Earth," I whispered, my eyes frantically gazing from one thing to another, "Oh my god..." I walked a few feet ahead, "This is amazing," I looked up to the flying vehicles above us.

"This is amazing," Rose remarked, "I'll never get used to this. Never. Different ground beneath my feet!"

A sweet scent, but a familiar one, caught my nose. I began sniffing and looked down. "I know that smell," I bent down.

"A different sky!" Rose continued, "And...what's that smell?"

"Apple grass," I answered, standing straight and turning back with a smile, "Sweet apple scent."

She didn't believe me and glanced to the Doctor. "Apple grass," He confirmed, nodding his head.

My smile grew sweet, "I knew it!"

"Don't you always?"

I shrugged, "I've yet to be wrong, so..."

"Oh, I love this!" Rose brought back his attention. "Can I just say..." She glanced to him, a great and big smile plastered on her face, "Travelling with you...I love it."

"That's not the only thing she loves," I rolled my eyes, turning away from them.

Usually, there'd be some company from Mickey but I realized it was just me now. I had tried really hard to get him to come but he said no even though I had begged and pleaded. He believed, apparently, that with the least possible number of people the Doctor took on, the more noticed I'd get. Between you and me, that sounded pretty sad. But I will admit that in the short while I'd entered the TARDIS, I had been noticed a little more by the Doctor. However, his attention seemed to wander back to Rose whenever she made a comment.

So here I am, as the third wheel again, with the Doctor and Rose.

While the Doctor and Rose laid on his coat on the grass, I went towards a funny building. I didn't stray too much of course, but I was drawn to it. All the flying cards going above would drive back and forth but nothing would stop by this building. It seemed odd...

"I bet my life's savings there's something wrong with you," I pointed to the building, as if it would make a comeback. I thought I heard something behind but when I glanced back I just saw grass. Still, I looked around but there was nothing. "And I'm never wrong..." I crossed my arms, glancing at the building again.

"What do you think?" the Doctor called as he and Rose joined me.

"Do you want to know the city's name?" Rose asked, looking rather amused.

"New New York," I replied nonchalantly, ending her source of amusement.

"How?" She almost frowned I dare say.

"Because she's clever," the Doctor pointed at me with a grin.

"Or, and I'm just saying," I looked up to the flying vehicles, "Someone shouted it from above," I smiled. The Doctor shook his head. "What? That wasn't my fault."

"We have a hospital to visit," He announced, pointing to the building behind me.

"What? What for?"

"He was summoned," Rose replied.

"By who?"

"Psychic paper. Shall we?" He extended his hand to me.

I looked between him and Rose. "Um...no," I turned around and started for the hospital.

"Joy?" He called but I kept walking, biting on my smile.

"Let's go Doctor!" I said, innocently, seeing it was bothering him.

~0~

We walked into the reception area of the hospital where cats were walking around. And they were dressed like nuns!

"Woah..." I blinked.

"There's no shop!" I heard the Doctor's whine. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "I like the little shop!"

"I thought this far in the future, they'd have cured everything," Rose said.

"That's impossible," I turned around, "You can't possibly cure everything."

"She's right," the Doctor nodded, "The human race moved on and so did the viruses. It's an ongoing war."

Another cat walked by, causing me to stare with a goofy smile on my face,"Neat..."

"They're cats," Rose pointed, shocked as they went along.

I followed a few cats walking by, going back and forth...I wanted a close up!

"Now don't stare," the Doctor told Rose, "And Joy, don't follow them."

My smile would not erase, "I can't help it. They're actual walking and talking cats," I tilted my head, "Cool."

"Well, at least you're taking it somewhat better," He muttered, "Rose! Think of what you look to them all...pink and yellow."

I followed another cat...

"JOY!" He yelled, scolding me as well.

"Sorry," I quickly turned back for them.

"Look, that's where I'd put the shop!" He pointed behind Rose. "Right there!"

I rolled my eyes, "What's with you and shops?" I followed after him.

"I like the shops," He said, defensively.

"You're allowed to point here and there but I can't do what I want?"

He walked into what looked like an elevator, "Uh, yes."

"So then why can't I follow them?" I started for another cat.

"Get back in here!" He snapped, pulling me into the elevator.

I frowned, "You know, these are the first kind I'm not allergic too. Let me have some fun."

"Ward 26!" he yelled, "What was that?" he looked down.

I sighed, "Nothing important, I guess."

" Hold on! Hold on!" We saw Rose rushing to join us but the doors closed too early.

"Oh, too late, we're going up!" the Doctor exclaimed.

"It's alright, there's another lift!"

"Ward 26!" the Doctor shouted down, "And watch out for the disinfectant!"

"The what?" I looked around, slightly afraid.

"Watch out for what?" Rose called back.

"The disinfectant!"

Commence stage one- disinfection.

There goes one of my ears. "Doctor, what exactly do you mean by-" I gasped loudly when an icy-cold water hit my face. "Crap, that's cold!" I shouted, blocking the remaining water from making contact with my face.

The Doctor remained perfectly calm about this and only smoothed out his hair.

When the water finally stopped, a freaking powder puffed into my face. I coughed out and fluttered my eyes open. "This...is-"

And the final straw happened: Strong wind smacked me upfront. All my hair stuck to my arms and face as the wind blew.

When the doors finally opened, I dashed out, "What the hell was that?" I demanded, pulling strands of hair off my face.

The Doctor smiled, "Procedure, nothing to worry about."

"It's stupid!" I snapped, removing the strands off my arms.

"Mind you, I'd say it's pretty good if it got all that hair of yours dried up in less than a minute," he gestured to my long, very-much-dried, hair.

I mock glared, "I'm sorry, would you like me to get it cut short for the next time?"

"C'mon," he pulled me towards another one of those cats, "And can you not follow more cats?"

"I don't know..."

"Hello," he greeted the cat.

"I am Sister Jatt."

"You have a name?" I blurted, receiving a thump on the arm by the Doctor, "Ow," I frowned, rubbing my arm.

"Sh," he put a finger to his lips.

I rolled my eyes and looked away. It seemed the only attention I received from him was reprimands. I'd rather not get noticed then!

The cat led us into Ward 26, where the Doctor, apparently, needed to go. Right now, the Doctor kept rambling on about the stupid shop again.

"Doctor, it's a hospital," I reminded, "No time for that."

"She is right," Sister Jatt nodded, "The hospital is a place of healing."

He frowned, "A shop does wonders for people, Joy."

We stopped in front of man who was fairly large and laid on a bed. It seemed his skin was turning into stone.

"Excuse me!" the lady beside him exclaimed, "Members of the public may only gaze upon the Duke of Manhattan with written permission from the Senate of New New York."

"That's Petrifold Regression, right?" the Doctor asked the man.

"I'm dying sir. A lifetime of charity and abstinence and it ends like this."

"Any statements made by the Duke of Manhattan may not be made public without official clearance," Again, the lady spoke.

"Frau Clovis!" the Duke gasped. She rushed to hold his hand. "I'm so weak!"

Frau Clovis glanced to us, angrily, "Sister Jatt! A little privacy please!"

"He'll be up and about in no time," Sister Jatt led us away.

"I doubt it. Petrifold Regression? He's turning to stone," the Doctor shook his head, "A cure for that won't be around for another...what? Thousand years?"

"Have faith in the sisterhood. Is there no one here you recognize?" She gestured to the dozens of patients. The Doctor looked around but didn't say anything. "It's rather unusual to visit without knowing the patient."

"No, I've found him..." the Doctor said, distracted all of a sudden, "Joy," he held out his hand for me.

Confused, I took it. I figured out his distraction when he led us to the Face of Boe. "Isn't he..." I pointed, "From the..."

Another cat stayed by our familiar patient. Sister Jatt nodded to her, "Novice Hame, can I leave these two visitors in your care?"

She nodded, "Yes."

"Oh, I think our friend got lost," the Doctor stopped Jatt before she left, "Rose Tyler. Could you ask at reception?"

"Certainly," Jatt said then left.

"I'm afraid the Face of Boe's asleep," Novice Hame said, "That's all he tends to do these days. Are you friends?"

"We met just once on Platform One," the Doctor answered, "What's wrong with him?"

"I'm so sorry. I thought you knew. The Face of Boe is dying."

"Of what?" I quickly asked, looking with horror at the poor face.

"Old age," She looked to him, "The one thing we can't cure. He's thousands of years old. Some people say millions. Although that's impossible."

"How do you know?" I challenged, a teasing smile growing on my face. "The universe can be very mysterious."

"I'm here," the Doctor knelt before the Face of Boe, "I look a bit different but it's me...it's the Doctor."

I sighed, watching the two have a strange conversation. I turned for the great, glass window beside us. I walked closer to it, staring out into the city. It did looked wonderful.

"You're not from around here, are you?" Novice Hame asked me.

I glanced back, "Is it that obvious?"

She smiled, nodding, "You've got that curiosity gleam in your eyes. The city is very big and full of wonders."

"I can bet," I stared out, smiling at the thoughts of the city.

"Joy, I'm terribly sorry," the Doctor stood up, "I meant to bring you somewhere incredible to thank you but..."

"What are you talking about?" I raised an eye brow, "This is incredible."

He didn't seem to believe me, "But it's-"

I stepped closer, "New planet. New aliens. Talking cats," I said in a hushed tone so Novice Hame wouldn't hear, "Oh yeah, this is incredible."

"But a hospital?" He raised an eye brow, clearly disbelieving my statement.

"Well, I've dabbled a little in the med-department. Short internship, don't ask me how I got it," I shook my head, chuckling at the memory of that day, "I get to learn more!"

"Keep that brain building up," He smiled and I nodded, "Good."

"You two are strange," Novice Hame remarked with amusement, "And you know the Face of Boe?"

"Is it hard to believe?" I asked, curious.

She smiled, "No..."

"Are we the only visitors?" the Doctor looked around.

"The rest of Boe-kind became extinct. He's the only one left. Legend says that the Face of Boe has watched the universe grow old."

"That must be a pretty cool job," I smiled.

"There's all sorts of superstitions around him. One story says that just before his death, the Face of Boe will impart his great secret. That he will speak those words only to one like himself."

"What does that mean?" the Doctor asked.

"It's just a story," Novice Hame shrugged.

"Could be true," I suggested, "Tell us the ending?"

Novice Hame smiled dimly, "Well, it's said he'll talk to the wanderers. To the man without a home guided by his moon spirit."

"Now there's something intriguing, don't you think Doctor?" I perked up, unlike him who just remained silent.

~0~

As I walked around the room of patients, the Doctor went to give Rose a call. I know he said not to follow anymore cats but it was impossible! I was highly allergic to cats and to not be sneezing like crazy.

My staring was cut off by a loud laughter. I looked around and found it belonged to The Duke from earlier. The Doctor was still talking so I went ahead and walked to the Duke's bed.

"Hello," I waved sheepishly.

He and his friend, Frau Clovis, were holding champagne glasses. "Little pink thing!" He exclaimed, "Look at me!"

"You're cured?" I raised an eye brow, confused.

"Indeed. Have a glass!"

Frau Clovis handed me a glass of champagne. "Any friendship expressed by the Duke of Manhattan doesn't constitute a form of legal contract."

I nodded and took the glass, "Cheers..." I said, slowly raising the glass.

"No you don't," the Doctor took my glass and handed it back to Clovis, "You're not allowed to drink."

"Who says?" I raised an eyebrow, knowing for a fact he didn't even know my age.

"I do," he declared, raising the glass high up thanks to his newly-acquired height, "It's all just a bunch of toxins."

"Oh, now you care," I muttered, rolling my eyes and turning back to the patient.

"What did you say?"

"And it's the man!" cried the Duke, ending out short fight, "You two are my good luck charms! Come in! Don't be shy!"

The Doctor smiled, tugging on his ear. He didn't seem all too happy about this new found recovery.

"Winch me up!" the Duke ordered. With a press of a button on a remote, the bed lurches forwards. "Look at me! No sign of infection!"

"Champagne, sir?" the waiter asked the Doctor.

"No thanks," the Doctor answered, handing him back my glass, "You had Petrifold Regression, right?"

"That being the operative word! Past tense! Completely cured!" the Duke rejoiced.

"But that's impossible," the Doctor said, refusing to show any joy.

"How was he cured?" I asked, curious, "I thought you said it would take another 1000 years for the cure to arise?"

"That was the idea. What's in that solution?" He walked to the pouch of blue liquid.

"A simple remedy," a new, older cat approached us.

"Then tell me what it is."

"I'm sorry, patient confidentiality. I don't believe we've met. My name is Matron Casp."

"I'm the Doctor."

"I'm Joy," I waved, sensing the growing tension between the two.

"Matron Casp!" Sister Jatt hurried towards us, "You're needed in intensive care!"

"If you would excuse me," Matron Casp nodded, "Have a good day."

"That was a bit odd," I said afterwards.

"Yeah..." the Doctor stared after Matron Casp.

He took out his glasses again and began examining each patient that had been miraculously cured.

I followed after him, "Still gonna wear those?"

"Aha," He nodded, carefully looking into one of the pouches, "Can you go see if Rose is close by? I'm beginning to get worried."

"Sure," I turned for the entrance. I was midway there when she finally came out from an elevator, "There you are!" I hurried to meet her. "The Doctor's been asking for you."

"Has he?" She asked, her voice oddly pitchy. "Well, better go tell him I'm here. Out of my way," She pushed past me.

I blinked, making a face, "Okay...?"

I looked back and saw the Doctor take her to one of the patients and explain the situation. I couldn't make it out but something wasn't right with her. Her voice was all...annoying. And, as ignored as I am sometimes, she was never rude to me.

"I need to see how they do this," the Doctor walked towards me.

"Look for a terminal," I crossed my arms, "Don't they usually keep all that info in?"

"Yes!" He pointed, excitedly, "Because, if they've got the best medicine in the world...then why's it such a secret?"

"I can't Adam and Eve it," Rose said, coming to join us.

Both the Doctor and I looked to her, confused. "What's...what's with the voice?" the Doctor was the first to ask.

"Oh, I don't know..." She smiled, and wickedly I dare say, "Just larking about New Earth...new me."

"Who says larking?" I whispered to myself. "Rose, are you-"

She held a finger to me, her smile gone and replaced by a mean glare, "Shut up."

"Excuse me?" I stepped up, the Doctor having to grab my arm and restrain me.

"Why don't you go and look for that terminal?" She looked me over like I was some poor, primitive thing.

"Doctor, you better knock some sense into her before I do," I snapped, shaking his hand off my arm.

Before I did anything rash, I walked for the elevators. What the hell had gotten into her? By chance, I happened to have found one of those terminals on the way.

"Doctor?" I called, "I think I found a-"

"Oi, what did I say?" Rose interrupted me. "Be quiet. We're a bit busy."

"What?" I snapped my head at her, "Rose!"

"Mmm, aren't you just..." She ignored me and stepped closer to the Doctor.

Without warning, she pulled his face to hers, slamming his lips against hers.

My eyes widened, and oddly enough, I found myself feeling sort of...mad? "Hmph!" I turned away.

"T-terminals this way..." I heard Rose say after what seemed like an eternity.

She walked off in the direction I had found the terminal in. I looked back to the Doctor and saw he was just staring after her, completely dazed. This was exactly why I didn't want to travel with them. I'd be even more cast off, and frankly if this was going to be Rose's new attitude she'd be better off with me far away from her before I'd hurt her.

The Doctor smoothed his hair back into place, "Woah...still got it," he walked a few steps then realized I still stood here, "Oh...Joy..."

"Hmph...no, please, don't mind me," I raised my hands, "I'm just gonna go follow more cats..." I spat, rolling my eyes. I walked towards the terminal and had to stop when I realized my attitude. What had just happened? I was angry, but exactly what of?

"Joy?" The Doctor caught up a few minutes later. "What's wrong?"

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stop thinking of what had happened. "Nothing. Completely fine. Let's go."

"But-"

"I said let's go," and I continued to walk.

~0~

"Nope, nothing odd," the Doctor concluded after reviewing the patients' details on the terminal.

"It's missing something else," I said, looking at the screen, "I heard something about Inten-"

"The cats," Rose cut me off, "They talked about Intensive Care. Where is it?"

I frowned. That was what I was going to say. She wasn't making this easier for me.

"You're right, well done," the Doctor nodded and got to work.

That was my being right, and my congratulations.

"Why would they hide a whole department?" Rose continued, "It's gotta be there somewhere. Search the sub-frame."

"What if it's locked?" The Doctor asked.

"Try the installation protocol."

"Yeah, course. Sorry," he used the screwdriver and somehow made the wall reveal a secret corridor.

Rose walked straight into it. I blinked incredulously; this was not the trip I expected...

We found ourselves gazing up on rows and rows and rows of green doors. The Doctor walked ahead and opened one of the doors with the screwdriver.

I gasped when a man that was covered in boils and surrounded with smoke stared at us. "Oh my god..." I clasped my hand over my mouth.

"What's wrong with him?" Rose asked, disgusted.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor breathed, slowly closing the door, "I'm so sorry."

I noticed Rose holding her nose while the Doctor went to the next door. "Rose?"

She glanced at me, looking me over, "What?"

I rolled my eyes, "Never mind," I pushed past her, "What kind of disease is it?" I stared at the woman behind the new opened door.

"All of them," the Doctor spat, "Every single disease in the galaxy, they've been infected with everything."

"Oh my god..." I said sadly, "I...I don't know what to say..."

"What about us?" Rose questioned, "Are we safe?"

"The air's sterile just don't touch them," the Doctor closed the door.

"How many patients are there?"

"They're not patients," the Doctor walked over to the railing, gazing upon the millions of doors.

"But they're sick."

"They were born sick," he snapped, "Meant to be sick. They exist to be sick. Lab rats. No wonder the Sisters have got a cure for everything. They've built the ultimate research laboratory."

"A human farm," I walked along the doors, "How horrible."

"Why don't they just die?" Rose inquired.

"Plague carriers," the Doctor answered, "Last to go."

"It's for the greater cause," Novice Hame approached us.

"How could you agree to such a thing?" I rejoined them, "How?"

"The Sisterhood has sworn to help."

"By killing?" the Doctor shouted angrily.

"But they're not people. They're specially grown. They have no proper existence."

"What's the turnover?" the Doctor neared her, "Thousand a day? Thousand the next? Thousand the next? How many thousand? For how many years? How many?"

"Mankind needed us," Novice Hame remained calm, "They came to this planet with so many illnesses. We couldn't cope. We tried everything, believe me. All the results were just too slow."

"So you created a farm," I said, disgusted, "Say what you say, these are people." I pointed, to the doors, "Locked up and forced to carry every disease? This isn't a hospital."

"They're flesh," Novice Hame insisted, "That's all they are."

"No, they're alive," the Doctor corrected.

"But think of those Humans out there, healthy and happy because of us?"

"I'd rather die," I declared, "Knowing that someone else was going to pay the price for my health? I'd rather die and I'm sure these people would agree. No one's live is worth over another's. No one."

"But who are you to decide that?" She raised an eye brow.

"Human, thank you very much," I spat, proudly, "I may not have any special skills or powers but I've got a secret weapon: a higher authority, the Doctor."

"Really?" He glanced at me, genuinely surprised.

I smiled, forgetting my former irritation with him, "You know it."

Even ignored, even reprimanded, I knew he'd always have my back. I knew I was still on the same level with Rose in that department.

"Yes. And if you don't like me then that's too bad because I'm as high as the authority gets," the Doctor stepped up.

"Um, excuse me," Rose pushed me to the side again, "Just to confirm this...none of the humans in the city actually know about this?"

Novice Hame shook her head, "No, we thought it best not-"

"Hold on," the Doctor cut in, "I can understand the bodies. I can understand your vows. But one thing I can't understand, what have you done to Rose?"

"I don't know what you mean..." Novice blinked.

"I am being very calm about this," the Doctor continued, "And the only reason I'm being so very, very calm is that the brain is a delicate thing. Whatever you've done to Rose's head, I want it reversed. NOW."

"We haven't done anything," Novice Hame insisted.

"You have," I nodded, finally finding the world at sense again, "She's incredibly rude now and I wanna knock her out..and I never wanna knock out Rose."

I decided to let go of Rose's attitude during the Doctor's regeneration for the better. She was just hurt the Doctor had left her, even though technically he hadn't. So she lashed out on whoever was close...me. Though I had let it go, it didn't mean I wouldn't knock her out if she did it again...fully conscious however.

"I am not," the blonde snapped.

"Yes, you are," I turned to her, "You've been fairly rude to me and I'm biting my own hand to keep me from knocking you out!"

"Darling, it's not my fault I'm so much better than you."

"Then again...why restrain myself if she's not," I balled up a fist.

"See? Another thing," the Doctor pointed, grabbing and keeping a tight restraint on me, "They never argue. And, Rose would care about these people dying. What have you done?"

"Oh alright, clever clogs," Rose rolled her eyes. She pushed me away and pulled the Doctor back to face her. "Smarty pants," she pulled out his tie, "Lady killer," she leaned closer.

"I'm gonna kill her," I said, bluntly.

"I knew something was going on in this hospital but I needed this body and your mind to find out what," Rose gestured to herself.

"Who are you?" the Doctor asked.

She smirked, leaning to his ear and whispered, "The Last Human."

"Oh god, the piece of scrap?" I raised an eye brow. She glared at me, but I didn't care. Instead, I let out a short laugh. "Ha! You're not Rose! The world makes sense again!"

"You annoying little brat," she spat, walking up to me, "Do you know how idiotic you are? I don't care how clever they say you are, you're nothing but a little-"

"Oi, leave her alone," the Doctor cut in, stepping between us, "You got a problem, it's with me."

"Go in and save the little girl, why don't you?" She whipped out a tube of perfume and sprayed it to his face. He fell to the ground, unconscious.

"Doctor!" I dropped beside him, "What did you do?" I looked up to Cassandra.

"Free sample?" She smiled sweetly then sprayed that thing on me as well.

~0~

I woke to yelling and yelling. I realized my arms had been forced to a rail with a type of wire.

"What's going on?" I woke up my senses.

"Oh, you've woken up," Cassandra pretended to pout, "I sprayed double."

"Where's the Doctor?" I looked around.

"Right here," she patted one of the cell doors, "Ready to become infected as well."

There was pounding on the other side of the door, "CASSANDRA!"

"Let him go," I reached out for the door.

"Uh, no?" She rolled her eyes, "Stupid one inside, clever one outside."

I paused to think about that. Obviously, I wasn't as smart as the Doctor, but I decided to mess with her for a moment.

"Wait, shouldn't it be the other way around? Clever one inside, stupid one outside?"

I watched in amusement as she realized her mistake.

"Shut up!" She exclaimed.

"Cassandra, just let Rose go!" The Doctor yelled again, "Please!"

"Oh, I will," assured Cassandra, "As soon as I've found someone younger and...less common, I'll junk her with the waste," She patted the door again, "It's showtime!"

"Cassandra," I called, "...Go into me."

She raised an eye brow, suddenly confused. I couldn't believe I was doing this...

"Go into me and leave Rose alone. I'm younger..." I swallowed hard, forcing myself up against the rail, "And...I'm richer," by the sudden gleam in her eye, I knew I had caught her attention, "I swear to god I am richer. I will give you my credit cards-they're old Earth cards with money in it basically-but you just let Rose be and come into-"

"Is that a deal?" She smiled wickedly.

I took in a deep breath and nodded, "A deal. And I always keep my end of it. Will you?"

"Definitely."

Next thing I knew, I was gasping for air, my head feeling like it would explode!

"Oh, younger body..." Cassandra remarked, placing my hands on my hips.

"Get your hands off me!" I snapped.

"How are you speaking? I'm in control!"

"...I'm clever."

"Very, I can see through your brain..." she paused, and I actually felt her own mind creeping into mine, seeing thoughts and feelings, "I can see everything. Oh...you're so lost, aren't you?"

"Quit talking Crap. I'm letting the Doctor go," I forced myself to walk a few steps. I noticed Rose was on the ground, unconscious. "Rose! Is she alright?"

"Yeah, fine. She's weak."

"Oi, that's a friend."

She scoffed, "Okay..."

"What are you doing?" Matron Casp demanded.

We turned and saw her and Jatt standing before us.

Cassandra took control of my speaking skills, "Straight to the point whiskers. I want money."

"The sisterhood is a charity. We don't give money. We only accept."

"The humans across the water pay you a fortune for all this and that's exactly what I need," she stepped us closer, "Perhaps a yacht would be nice too. In return for which, I shall tell the city nothing of this. Deal?"

"I'm afraid not," Casp declined. Jatt pressed a button from a remote.

"I advice you to really think about it."

"No need. I decline."

Cassandra frowned, she became restless in our body. "I will tell them!" She pointed, "And you can't stop me! Not exactly Nuns with guns. You're not even armed."

"We have claws. Much more effective," Casp showed us her paw with sharp and filed nails.

When she hissed I managed to make my body jump. Cassandra, remained still with no emotions to show. "Nice try." She spat and turned us to a strangely patterned man.

"Chip! Plan B!" He pulled down a lever, making every door of every cell open.

"What have you done?" The Doctor demanded as he rushed out the door. He looked down to Rose who was just waking up. "Where's Cassandra?" He helped Rose stand. "Where is she?" Rose shook her head, still groggy. "Joy?"

Cassandra shrugged my shoulders and made sure I wouldn't speak. She turned us around and ran off somewhere.

"Joy!" The Doctor yelled after me.

"Oh, you don't like that. Do you?" Cassandra asked. "That's not who you are..."

She was giving me the ability to speak again and so I took it, "Shut up."

"Min-"

"Shut up, piece of scrap!" I yelled.

"Why don't you say something?"

"Where are we going?" I demanded. "And who the hell is him?"

We ran down the stairs, with the strange Nan behind us.

"Oh, that's Chip, don't mind him. He's harmless," Cassandra waved him off.

"Joy! Hold on!" The Doctor continued to yell after us.

"He just won't give up!" Cassandra frowned.

"He's my friend. You think he won't question why I'm not speaking and running away from them?"

"Are you sure he's a friend? I see he's been awfully rude..."

"Not to be mean," I said instantly, dead serious, "His mind is just...occupied with something else."

The Doctor and Rose caught up with us at the cellar while we tried working the elevators.

"It's not gonna work!" I yelled.

But Cassandra kept working, "Shut up!"

"It's a Quarantine! Nothing's moving!"

She groaned, letting our hands drop everything, "Would you be quiet?"

"No, I will not be quiet."

"Cassandra?" the Doctor stepped forwards.

We turned around, both fairly annoyed at each other.

"Do you mind? I'm having an argument with a pessimistic brat," Cassandra crossed our arms.

"You took Joy's body?" His eyes widened with horror, "N-n-n-n-n-no. You get out of there, right now!"

"Sorry, but she made a deal," Cassandra smiled wickedly, "And a deal is a deal."

"Joy?" He frantically looked into my eyes, "Can you speak? Are you okay?"

The flesh got into the cellar and advanced towards us. "Gotta run," Cassandra waved a hand and dashed off.

"She's getting away!" Rose yelled, running after us.

"Mistress!" I heard Chip call.

"Oh no, he's gonna be infected!" I tried stopping but my feet wouldn't budge.

I wasn't in control anymore.

We ran into a new room where Cassandra pretty much knew her way around. I assumed this was her hiding place. We rushed to another door and opened it only to find more flesh.

"We're trapped!" We turned back around, "What are we gonna do?"

"Who's saying that? Joy or Cassandra?" Rose asked.

"You are going to leave that body," the Doctor angrily marched up to us, "That psychograft is banned on every civilized planet!" He pointed to a contraption across from us. "You're compressing Joy to death!"

"Finally you take some importance of her," She crossed our arms.

"What?" He asked, indignantly, "What does that even mean?"

Even if I wanted to speak, there wasn't much I could say at this point.

Cassandra leaned forwards, a big smirk plastered on her face, "You know, I may be evil but I'd never do what you're doing, Doctor. That's just cold."

He blinked, stepping back as he studied me from head to toe. I thought maybe he'd capture something Cassandra had said but I was severely disappointed by his next words. "Cassandra, get out! I don't care where the hell you go, but you get out of my friend RIGHT NOW!"

"I can't go anywhere else," Cassandra shook her head, "My original's skin is dead."

"That's not our problem," Rose stepped up, "You need to get out of her. It's horrible what you're doing!"

"Give her back," the Doctor said, dead quiet, pointing his screwdriver at us, "And I mean now."

I saw what she was gonna do next but I had no way to stop her. "You asked for it," she said.

I felt myself become free from her control. I stumbled a little, almost falling back and rubbed the side of my head. "Oh wow, my head..."

"Uh...Joy?" Rose quietly said. I glanced to her and saw she was looking at the Doctor.

"Oh my," the Doctor's eyes looked around, "This is...different."

"Cassandra?" I raised an eye brow, "Don't you dare..."

"Goodness me, I'm a man. Yum! So many parts! And hardly used..." the Doctor wiggled around like crazy.

"Oh my god..." I stared, utterly stupefied.

"Cassandra you get out of there!" Rose demanded.

"Two hearts! Oh baby! I'm beating out a samba!" Cassandra/He continued about with radical movements.

"Get out of him!" I yelled angrily.

"What do we do?" Rose ran a hand through her hair.

"Ooh, he's slim," Cassandra/He ran a hand down his body, "And a little bit foxy!" Cassandra/He glanced to us, "You've thought so too," he started walking up to Rose, "I've been inside your head..." Rose became slightly pinker, embarrassed, "You've been looking..." he leaned down to her, "And you like it!" I chuckled lightly, looking away. "Minerva, I saw you gave him a look too...something's going on in that little head of yours and you don't even know it."

I snapped my head back to him, "Hey!"

"Who's that?" Rose looked between us, confused.

"Sister," I spat, fairly angry with Casandra. Rose was going to continue her questioning but the doors burst open. "They've gotten in!"

"What the hell would the Doctor do?" Cassandra/The Doctor shouted.

"He'd get us out of here," I snapped, glaring, "Too bad he's not around!"

"There's a ladder!" Rose pointed, "C'mon!"

Cassandra/The Doctor shoved past us and got to the ladder first. "Out of my way!"

Rose climbed after him then I. We climbed up but saw there was no other way around.

We would be stuck...

"Cassandra, if you'd get out of the Doctor's body, he can think of something!" Rose yelled.

"Yap, yap, yap," Cassandra/The Doctor swayed his head, "Got, it was tedious inside your head. Hormone City."

I rolled my eyes, "We're gonna die if-" I yelled when something grabbed my ankle. I looked down and saw Matron Casp. "Get off me!" I kicked her head.

"All our good work! All that healing!" She cried.

"Get off!"

"Go and play with a ball of string," Cassandra/The Doctor muttered.

I kicked Casp's arm down and finally got free. And just in time because one of the flesh grabbed her ankle, making her break out in boils. She yelled in pain then fell off the ladder.

"They're coming!" I cried as the flesh advanced on us. "Cassandra!"

We moved up and up but when we finally reached the top, the doors sealed shut.

"Now what do we do?" Cassandra/The Doctor looked down.

"Use the screwdriver!" I yelled, looking down to see how far the flesh were off.

"You mean this thing?" She pulled it out.

"USE IT!" I yelled angrily.

"Well, I don't know how. That Doctor's hidden away all his thoughts."

"Because he's smart," Rose snapped, "The Doctor can open it! You'll have to come back to me!"

"No way," Cassandra/The Doctor shook his head, "Hormone City?"

"It's either that or die."

"Hold on tight," Cassandra then leaped into Rose again, "Chavtastic again. Open it!" She demanded from the Doctor.

"Not til you get out of her!" the Doctor pointed his screwdriver at her.

"We need the Doctor."

"I order you to leave her!" the Doctor shouted, "NOW."

I looked down and saw the flesh were much nearer now. "Doctor...might want to hurry," my voice trembled.

"And don't you dare jump into Joy," he added, "Now get out."

"I'm gonna regret this," her little cloud rushed down past me to one of the flesh, "Oh sweet Lord, I look disgusting," she frowned.

The Doctor then opened the elevator and jumped in. He pulled in Rose then me. When my feet hit the new floor, I felt something inside of me again and I gasped, nearly stumbling back.

"A deal's a deal, brat!" Cassandra said...with my mouth.

"That was your last warning, Cassandra!" the Doctor shut the door and turned to us, "Get out!"

"A deal's a deal, Doctor. Let her be a woman of her word," She scoffed, "If she's considered one yet."

If she wasn't in my body, I would've smacked her. The Doctor had no choice but to leave her within me for the moment. We returned to Ward 26 where we were greeted with hostility from the other patients who hadn't been infected just yet.

"We're clean!" the Doctor held up his hands, "Look, look! We're all clean! See?"

"If we had been infected, we would've been dead," I said, rolling my eyes. And yes, that one was me.

"What's the status?" the Doctor looked around.

"I think we're the only ones left," Frau Clovis said, sighing, "And I've been trying to override the quarantine," she raised her contraption in hand.

"You can't do that. If they forced entry, they'd break quarantine."

"I'm not dying in here!"

"We can't let a single particle of disease get out!" the Doctor raised his voice, "Ten million people in that city would be at risk! Turn that thing off!"

"Not if it gets me out," Clovis gritted her teeth.

I walked up to her, quietly snatched her contraption and threw it to the ground, stomping on it repeatedly with my foot.

"Cassandra!" Rose exclaimed.

"No, no...I'm pretty sure that one was Joy," the Doctor calmly said.

I smiled sweetly to Clovis then returned to my spot. "If I'm going to die, it will not be in vain."

"You will not die," the Doctor said, "Get me intravenous solutions for every single disease! Move it!"

"No need to shout," I muttered to him then rushed off to get what was needed.

As we gathered the ingredients, Rose was helping the Doctor tie a rope around his body.

"How's that? Will that do?" he asked as I handed him the last of the pouches.

"What are you going to do?" Rose questioned.

"Oh Rose, be a little smarter," Cassandra snapped.

"That one wasn't Joy!" I quickly said afterward but Rose still glared.

The Doctor had moved to the elevator doors, opening them up with the sonic.

"The lifts aren't working!" Cassandra exclaimed.

The Doctor looked down on the shaft, "They aren't moving which is entirely different," he looked back at us then walked to Rose and whispered something in her ear. The two looked to Cassandra and I for a moment then Rose nodded and took steps back. "You're coming with me," he grasped my arm, "And I apologize Joy."

"What are you doing?" Cassandra demanded.

"I can't leave you in a room full of City officials and powerful patients, now can I?"

"That's a bit rude, don't yah think?"

"Joy knows what I mean," he rolled his eyes.

"Does she? Does she really?"

He looked into my eyes, "Why isn't Joy speaking anymore?"

"Because, I'm in control now. No more Joy."

He stared for a moment, silent and dead serious, "I refuse."

If I could smile, I would have...

~0~

"Now you listen up," the Doctor exclaimed, "I'm dealing with a much less clever girl now so I'll dumb it down," Cassandra frowned, "When I say so, take hold of this lever," he gestured to it.

"But there's still a quarantine down there!" Cassandra cried, "We can't-"

"I said hold the lever!"

As he went into the elevator to do his work, Cassandra and I remained on top, silent...at least for a moment.

"Why do you travel with him? He barely acknowledges you."

Because he's a friend, I thought.

"That's not a friend," she scoffed, "And yes, I hear your thoughts."

You can't live forever, Cassandra, especially in this body. You'll die even quicker in me.

"Please, you've lived twice as much. I think I'll be fine."

I'm young.

"Okay..."

"Pull the lever!" the Doctor shouted.

Cassandra did the task on command.

Commence stage one: Disinfection.

I knew exactly what would happen; he's saved them once more.

"Pass it on!" the Doctor shouted happily, "C'mon!"

"Pass on what?" Cassandra demanded, confused.

You idiot.

"Shut it, brat," she spat. The Doctor pulled us into the elevator. "What did they pass on?" She asked him."Did you kill them?"

"That's how you do things," he walked out into the reception.

He's cured them.

"He cured them?" Cassandra repeated.

"I'm assuming Joy figured that out," he stared at the flesh and smiled, "I'm the Doctor and I cured them!"

My mouth opened but only noises came out. Cassandra shut it and frowned, "No! I'm in control. Remember that deal."

~0~

"The Face of Boe!" the Doctor rushed over to our old friend. Rose and I followed behind him. "You were supposed to be dying!" the Doctor smiled.

It was true, he did seem just healthy as in the Platform.

There are better things to do today. Dying can wait.

"Oh I hate telepathy," Cassandra rolled her eyes.

"Sh!" Rose snapped.

I have grown tired with the universe, Doctor, but you have taught me to look at it anew.

"There are legends you know," the Doctor knelt down before the Face of Boe, "Says you're millions of years old."

That would be impossible.

"You know, I got the impression...there was something you want to tell me..." the Doctor said quietly.

A great secret.

"So the legend says."

It can wait.

"Oh does it have to?" the Doctor pouted.

We shall meet again, Doctor, for the third time...for the last time...and the truth shall be told. Until that day...

And like that, he teleported away. A few seconds after, he stood up and turned around. "And now for you,' he pointed at Cassandra and I.

"Everything's happy. Everything's fine...just leave me," Cassandra stood straight, "She made a deal."

"I could care less what she did. What I'm saying, is leave that body," he stepped closer, "You have lived long enough."

"So has she!"

"Don't," he shook his head, "Get out now."

"I don't want to die!" Cassandra started crying.

I forced my mouth open, making a few attempts to speak myself.

"She wants to talk," Rose said, "Cassandra!"

"No," Cassandra gritted her teeth, "I don't want to die."

"Mistress!" Chip ran forth, "I kept myself safe! For you, mistress."

Her thoughts began racing through my mind and I felt so sorry for Chip.

"Cassandra, don't you dare," the Doctor warned, sensing her plan before it was even finished, "He's got a life of his own."

"But it's a volunteer," she said, eyeing the patterend man, "And so I shall take it!"

Before I could attempt to stop her, she leaped out of me and into Chip. I gasped for air again as I fell back, feeling quite free now.

"Oh!" the Doctor caught me just in time, "You alright?"

I blinked, "Y-yeah..." I swallowed hard and forced my eyes to wake up. I felt my legs give out once again and down I went.

"Woah!" the Doctor helped me once more, "You just want to hit that floor, don't you?"

I shook my head, all my thoughts and senses finally returning to normal. I looked up and smiled, "Hello," I waved.

He smiled back, "Hello."

I couldn't stop smiling, and I was a little confused to feel my face become warmer. Was I blushing? Oh my god...I was!

"You refused?" I questioned quietly, recalling his words.

"I don't give up on you. It'd be shameful if I did," he answered, his smile softening, "I'd be ashamed if I hadn't learned anything."

I raised an eyebrow, a little setback by his choice of words...a very familiar choice of words.

Rose coughed from the side and I realized she wanted us apart. I quickly removed myself from the Doctor's arms and cleared my throat. "Hi Rose," I waved, hoping my blush was gone. She faintly smiled and waved back.

"Oh sweet Lord, I'm a walking doodle," Cassandra said from Chip's body.

"Cassandra, that's not fair," I frowned.

"You made a deal with me," she marched herself to me, "And you lied!"

"I know what I said-"

"Then why didn't you keep it?"

"Why did you try killing us?" I countered, "I didn't lie, by the way, but I'm sure as hell not re-offering that deal."

She opened her mouth but instead fell forwards. I quickly helped her up, "Are you okay?"

"I think...I think I'm dying," she gasped lightly, "But...but I think that's okay."

The Doctor and Rose joined and helped support her. "I can take you to the city," the Doctor offered.

"No, everything's new on this planet," Cassandra looked around, "No place for Chip and me anymore. I think you're right Doctor, it's time to die."

"There's one last thing I can do, though," the Doctor announced, "C'mon."

We were brought into the TARDIS. At first, I didn't understand what the Doctor was trying to do. But then I saw the new surroundings and recognized a specific blonde woman; Cassandra. I smiled, content, and let his plan go into action. I can't say I was glad to see death right in front of me, but it was a part of life. I wouldn't escape from it anywhere. I watched Cassandra at her beginning and very last moments all in one. After that, I ordered the Doctor to take me right home.

~0~

"I'm really sorry Joy," the Doctor opened the doors of the TARDIS.

I felt the fresh air of my dear planet greet my face when I stepped out. I turned around and smiled, "Don't be. It was pretty fun."

"I was supposed to take you into the city. Thank you properly for-"

"I didn't want it," I reminded, "I was pretty happy. I've been an intern for a hospital once and seeing how an alien one worked is a very good opportunity to learn more."

He smiled softly, "Always trying to learn."

I nodded, "Life's pretty short for me so I better make the most of it. Say bye to Rose for me, will you?" I hugged him, "Thanks for taking me on board."

"You're more than welcome to stay with us and you know it," he quickly offered.

I pulled back and shook my head, "Now more than ever I need to stay."

For both my life's sake and theirs. I would not be a third wheel...

I saw he was slightly hurt and made me feel bad, "You know, I've got a job now. A real and proper one..."

"Yeah..."

"And I actually got another raise," I continued, hoping he'd see it wasn't his fault I didn't want to stay...even when a good chunk of it was. "I think maybe by the year's end I'll have enough to finally move out. And I'm even ahead on my sch-"

"I guess I'll see you later then," he looked up, "Because you know I will come back."

I didn't even take offence he had cut me off again. He always did that. "Yes, I'll come on board once in a while. Just like always."

He nodded, hugging me, "Take care then, Joy."

"You too," I said, pulling back. He turned for the box, opening its doors and moving to go inside. "Doctor, wait!"

He glanced back, confused yet obedient. "You...your words earlier...in the hospital," I became nervous for some reason but I had to know, "You talked about being ashamed if you hadn't learned, those...those were-"

"Your words," he finished, smiling as I nodded fast.

"How did you...I mean, you were asleep..."

"It's a bit fuzzy," he began to explain and so I became silent, ready to listen, "I remember some parts now. Your voice happened to come into mind a lot for some reason, though..."

"I talk a lot..." I admitted, making a face that made him laugh.

"You do, but that's a good thing!" He exclaimed, trying to make it seem like it really was fine. "But the thing that stuck most in my head was you not giving up on me. And...I don't know, but you sounded really upset for the most part of the day. What were you upset with?"

I swallowed hard, knowing this could be my chance to finally let everything out and make him realize his mistake. "Um..."

"I get you were upset with Rose, but I felt like there was something more," he eyed me while I tried gathering some words, "Just know that while part of that day is fuzzy, I will remember it sooner or later."

"...you will?" I raised an eyebrow, my heart beating faster when he nodded.

"Yes, so if there's anything on your mind...you should probably tell me now."

I contemplated on my choice, and realized when it'd be the perfect moment...the day he remembered my words and put them all into place. Then he'd figure it out and then I'd confirm them. But it'd all lay with him.

"Joy?"

"No," I spoke up, almost authoritative, "I will not tell you anything."

"What?" He frowned.

"It'll come back to you sooner or later," I shrugged, trying to play it off as something nonchalant.

"What will?"

"That'd be for you to figure out."

"Joy, why don't you just tell me?" He seemed to be getting agitated. "I know you and there's something-"

I'm sorry but I just had to scoff at that, only increasing his annoyance. "Doctor, I think you should just go."

"What's going on!?"

"You'll find out, or realize one day," I opened the doors of the TARDIS for him, "See you around."

He was fairly irritated but muttered a low 'bye' and walked inside the box. As the TARDIS de-materialized, I couldn't help feel that there should've been more insistence on why I refused to tell him anything. But I figured he just didn't care enough to continue questioning me. Still, I had to admit it did feel pretty nice to learn that he had heard me on Christmas and made him thoughtful on why I was so upset. Who knew, maybe that 'soon' was much sooner that I thought it'd be.

But for now, there might be a 'new' Doctor, but it sure as hell didn't seem like it just yet.

#10th doctor x oc #noblecrescentedit #oc: Minerva Souza #oc: Joy Souza #fic: next stop eveywhere #10th doctor imagines #10th doctor x original female character #doctor who imagines #10th doctor #rose tyler #new earth

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seh406 · 4 years

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C.) He pretends at Christianity to court the Religious Right but fails to live anything resembling a Christ-Like Life.

D.) His nationalist “America First” message effectively alienates us and removes us from our place as leaders in the international community.

E.) His ideas on “Keeping us safe” are all thinly veiled ideas to remove our freedoms, he is, after all, an authoritarian first. He has shown that they also are simply bad ideas.

F.) He couldn’t pass a 3rd-grade civics exam. He doesn't’ know what he’s doing. He doesn't understand how international relations work, he doesn’t understand how federal state or local governments work, and every time someone tries to “Run it like a business” it’s a spectacular failure. See Colorado Springs’ recent history as an example. “The Short, Unhappy Life of a Libertarian Paradise” and that was a businessman with a MUCH better business track record than Trump. We are talking about a man who lost money owning a freaking gambling casino.

G.) He behaves unethically and always has. As a businessman, he constantly left in his wake unpaid contractors and invoices, litigation, broken promises, whatever he could get away with.

K.) He is systematically steamrolling regulations specifically designed to keep a disaster like the 2007 subprime mortgage crisis from happening again.

N.) He denies scientific fact. We’ve all witnessed this with the latest world disaster, the Coronavirus. He was warned by scientists and doctors very early on that this could happen but he totally ignored these warnings which has had un-reversible repercussions. Have you also noticed that the only people you hear denying climate change are politicians and lobbyists? 99% of actual scientists studying the issue agree that it’s real, man-made and caused by greenhouse gasses. Ever notice that every big disaster movie starts with a bunch of politicians in a room ignoring a scientist's warning?

0.) He does not have the temperament to lead this nation. He is thin skinned, childish, and a bully, never mind misogynistic, boorish, rude, and incapable of civil discourse.

P.) He still does not understand that the words he speaks, or tweets, are the official position of 1/3 of the US government, and so does not govern his words. He still thinks when he speaks it’s good ole’ Donald Trump. It’s not. It’s the PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. You have probably spread a meme or two around talking about how no president’s every word has ever been dissected before…YES, THEY ALWAYS HAVE. It’s just that every other president in our lifetime has understood the importance of his words and took great care to govern his speech. Trump blurts out whatever comes to his mind then complains when people talk about what a dumb thing that was to say.

R.) He is the President. But he refuses to take a leadership position and understand that he is everyone’s President. Again, this has been recently demonstrated with the Coronavirus Pandemic. Conservatives complain about liberals chanting “Not my President” while Trump himself behaves as if no one but his supporters matter.

V.) He has one response to a differing opinion. ATTACK. A good leader listens to criticism, to different points of view, is capable of self-reflection, tries to guide people to his point of view, and when necessary stands his ground and defends his convictions. Does any of this sound like Trump? His default is not to Lead, its’ to attack. Scorched Earth. The Jim Acosta reaction is a good example. There was no defense of his convictions when Acosta was asking him repeated questions about his rhetoric on the caravan. His response was to attack Acosta and he’s done this many times now with the

X.) He emboldens the worst among us. Counter-protesters are slammed into by a car while countering actual Nazi rally, and the response is there’s fault on “Both Sides” The media is at fault for a nut job sending them and Donald’s favorite targets pipe bombs. The truth is not all Republicans, not all Trump Supporters are racist, fascist lunatics. Many are just taken in by the bombastic personality and are living in an information bubble made worse by the fact that they unfollow anyone and ignore any source of information that makes them feel uncomfortable. People on the left do that too. The biggest problem the right has right now is that the worst of the Right is the loudest and the most in your face, and the actual right, especially the Freaking PRESIDENT needs to be standing up and saying No. Those are not our values.

Z.) I’ll use Z for something I do blame him for, but the rest of us have to carry the blame too. Polarization. This country is more politically polarized than I can remember in my lifetime. Some may remember how it was in the late 60’s when construction workers in New York were being applauded for beating up hippies, I think it’s pretty close to that right now. And he is the cause of much of the current level polarization, but also the result. It didn't’ start with Trump. We’ve been going down this road I think since the eruption of the Tea Party in the early years of the Obama administration. I was hoping the tide would turn before it got much worse because the thing that scared me more than anything is what if that keeps going the way it has been? Well, that ship has sailed given Trumps past record and the latest current events that have gone horribly wrong.

If you’ve read this far, thank you for reading my reasons which I hope has given you my insight rather than just some superfluous statement I could have made that would have been pretty meaningless of why I cannot and never will support this man as someone I respect, let alone support him as our President.

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 5 years

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Not-So Tiny Sides: The First Day After

A/N: Welp, it only took a year, haha, but we finally got up and finished this story! Forgive us for the delay or not, but, uh...yeah. Either way, we’re posting this. If you do forgive us, thank you for being patient!

Patton woke up the morning after they had all been cursed hoping everything was just some weird dream he had thought up. Then he walked out to the Common Room and found Roman in Virgil’s old clothes and Virgil biting his fingernails like he did when they were younger and he knew. That wasn’t a dream, that was yesterday, and the curse hadn’t worn off. “Hey, kiddos,” Patton said. “Where’s Logan?”

Roman looked over and shrugged. “He saw us like this, freaked out, and ran back to his room. I haven’t the faintest what he thinks that will achieve.”

Patton felt a sinking in his stomach. Already, he could feel himself slipping into a place where he would feel safer, but he couldn’t do that, not if everyone else needed him. He sat down on the table in front of the couch and sighed. “Well, we’ll make sure he’s okay in a minute. Right now, we have to do a little more research into what this thing is, exactly. And we should probably bring Thomas into it.”

Virgil whimpered at that and shook his head. “No. No no no.”

Patton rubbed the back of his neck. “I know you don’t want to, kiddo, but he’s gonna find out one way or the other. Isn’t it better for him to be prepared if something happens?”

Virgil looked him over, and Patton did his best to look entirely open without showing how scared he was about this whole thing. After an eternity, Virgil swallowed and nodded. “Okay.”

Patton nodded. “So, we have two options: get into what this is, and then tell Thomas, or tell Thomas first and then research with him.”

Roman shrugged. “I mean he’s going to know either way, why don’t we just tell him now?”

“‘Cause what if there’s bad stuff about it that we don’t know yet?” Virgil asked.

Patton was about to respond when he found himself sinking out of the Mind Palace and summoned into Thomas’ living room, where Logan was already standing, sucking his thumb. “Hey, Pat,” Thomas said casually. “Care to explain why, exactly, Logan is sucking his thumb, and what happened yesterday that he keeps mumbling about?”

Oh. Thomas was more than a little irritated, and that was not how Patton wanted to go into things. “I’ve only done a little bit of research myself, Thomas, but uh...Roman-took-us-on-a-quest-and-the-Dragon-Witch-cursed-everyone.”

Thomas sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Cursed you how, exactly?”

“Uh...she replaced something about our coping mechanisms so that instead of handling stress or work like we would normally, we go through this thing, as far as I know it’s called age regression? And it’s where someone basically acts like a child or has childlike behavior for whatever reason. Apparently one of the things Logan does is...he sucks his thumb.”

Thomas looked between Logan, who was staring at Patton with betrayal on his face even as he kept his thumb in his mouth, and Patton himself, who was starting to worry about Thomas’ reaction, and how the others might behave if he kept acting irritated. “You’ve got to be joking.”

Patton winced. “Uh...sorry, Thomas, but I’m dead serious.”

“I am going to kill Roman,” Thomas muttered.

“Don’t do that!” Patton exclaimed. “He blames himself enough! And besides, everyone is already only barely holding on by a thread! Do you really want to make someone besides Logan slip up? Virgil’s already jittery and Roman did not take everything well yesterday. No blaming anyone!”

Thomas just groaned and waved a hand toward Roman’s corner, causing the creative aspect to rise up, still in Virgil’s old clothes. Roman took one look at Thomas and immediately shrank back and away. “I’m-sorry-I’m-sorry-I’m-sorry,” he immediately started saying so fast Patton could barely make it out.

When Thomas held up a hand Roman stopped, but not without shoving a fist in front of his mouth, or unshed tears in his eyes. “You guys really like making my life difficult. Where’s Virgil?”

On cue, Virgil appeared on the steps, still chewing on his fingernails. “Don’t do that!” he whined. “I don’t like being alone suddenly for no good reason.”

Thomas’ eyebrows raised and Virgil shrunk in on himself slightly. “It’s Roman’s fault,” he defended.

“Is not!” Roman exclaimed.

“Is so!” Virgil said.

“You said yesterday it wasn’t my fault!” Roman shot back.

“He also was an adult when he said that,” Patton gently pointed out. “It’s a lot easier to blame someone else as a kid when you’re scared, Roman. Virgil’s just freaking out a little, which is completely allowed under the circumstances.”

Thomas blinked and turned to Patton. “Since when are you the mediator?”

“Since I’m the only level-headed adult left in the room,” Patton muttered under his breath. Out loud he said, “Well, someone has to do it, and they obviously can’t.”

Thomas shot him a look that Patton took to mean Thomas had probably heard what he said under his breath, but he was going to let that subject matter drop for now. “Okay, so that explains the why. Do we know the how?” Thomas asked. “And more importantly, do we know the how to change this back?”

“No and no,” Logan said, removing his thumb from his mouth. “There was obviously some sort of inhalant in the smoke that we were forced to breathe in from the Dragon Witch. Beyond that I haven’t the faintest what could have occurred, scientifically speaking, to cause this.”

“Hey, welcome back, Logan!” Patton said with forced cheer. Someone else was adult now, which only made him further feel like he had to slip. He scrambled for shreds of his adulthood but all the emotions running higher than normal just knocked him off his feet completely. Without warning, his hands starting moving rapidly left to right at the wrist joint as his anxieties rose.

Virgil looked over at him. “You good, Pat?”

Patton just forced a smile and nodded.

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “Liar,” he said.

Though there wasn’t any real venom behind the statement, Patton felt hurt, and he was sure it showed on his face. His hand rocking just sped up into overtime.

Virgil tentatively got up, walked over, and gave Patton a hug. Patton stiffened at the first touch, but soon melted into the embrace, bringing his hands around Virgil’s middle and trying to stop the shaking that had started to take over his body. “It’s okay,” Virgil murmured. “It’s okay, Pat.”

“No it’s not,” Patton said softly, but with conviction. “It’s not, and that’s the problem.”

Virgil sighed and nodded. “But no use working yourself up over it, now is there?”

Patton closed his eyes and a few tears leaked out, but he said nothing, only hugged Virgil tighter. Virgil rubbed circles on Patton’s back, and when Patton felt marginally better he pat Virgil on the back twice to let him go.

Virgil went back to his spot and Patton wiped his few remaining tears away. “Sorry,” he said. “Got a little carried away, there...”

“I fail to understand why you would apologize for merely expressing emotions, when logically speaking, that’s a majority of your function,” Logan said.

“Eh, it’s what the emotions say I should do,” Patton joked.

Logan squinted at him, and Patton shifted on his feet. Did he say or do something wrong? Was he not allowed to joke about this? What was going on? “You appear to be the oldest out of all of us when this thing...occurs. Any idea why that might be?”

Patton shrugged helplessly. “Nope. Do you have any idea why?”

Logan shook his head. “Were I under duress to find an answer, I would say that perhaps because you are used to indulging in childlike behaviors, you were affected less than those of us who put on a more forced sense of maturity. However, there is no way to test that hypothesis.”

Thomas sighed and shook his head. “Well that explains why my emotions have been everywhere and I’ve overall felt off-balance. What do we do now?”

“I would recommend looking into this more,” Logan said. “With knowledge comes the possibility of staving off whatever caused this until more opportune times.”

Thomas nodded, and looked everyone over. “Well, it looks like you and me might be the ones to focus on the research, Logan, I don’t know if anyone else is currently up to it.”

Patton dropped his head in guilt. He didn’t mean to cause a problem, honest, it just...sort of happened.

There was a hand on his shoulder and Patton looked up to find Thomas looking him over. “You can’t blame yourself for this, Patton,” Thomas said. “Any of it. And that includes how you feel. Come on, let’s look around the apartment for a bit, I’m sure we could find something that you might like to do. I probably have an old coloring book or two somewhere.”

Patton smiled and nodded at the offer. And such went the rest of the morning. Logan was doing research on the computer, Roman was scrawling stories in the margins of old papers, and Virgil seemed content to curl up under a blanket and doze.

By lunch they had a bit more information about what age regression was, and ways that they could find small releases if there was no way around feeling different, but had no idea what they could do to reverse this. It was around lunch that Roman brought up the possibility no one wanted to wonder about. “What if we can’t change this back?” Roman asked.

“Well, logically speaking, I suppose that we would set up some sort of...schedule for release from responsibilities so we’re not all stuck in various stages of regression,” Logan said.

“That’s not a bad idea to set up anyway,” Thomas pointed out. “Each day someone could have the opportunity to regress, and if they don’t take it there could be a second chance for someone else. And we just rotate through the week.”

Patton looked up from the paper he was doodling on. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” he said. “Maybe Logan could have Mondays, Virgil Tuesdays, Roman Thursdays, and myself Fridays? Weekends are fair game for everyone, and Wednesday is a day where we all try to be adult.”

Logan thought about it. “I could switch days with you, Patton. There’s no need for you to go last.”

Patton shrugged. “You said yourself I seem the least affected by the curse. Only makes sense that I would be able to mostly wait longer too.”

Logan looked like he wanted to protest but ultimately shrugged it off. “If you insist,” he said. “I can type up a schedule and save it to the computer so there’s no fights over who does what on which day.”

Patton nodded idly and everyone else murmured agreement. Already, Patton felt stuck inside his own head again. What would happen if they couldn’t change this back? What if the curse just made them worse and worse and it never stopped? There were too many ways this could go wrong, and Patton couldn’t account for all of them. He curled up in a ball and tried to force himself to think happy thoughts, but it wasn’t working.

Virgil came over and draped part of his blanket over Patton. “It’s gonna be okay,” Virgil whispered. “We all have each other, we’re gonna get through this.”

Yeah, Patton supposed that was true. Even if this curse lasted a while, they would still have each other, and that was important.

Okay. Yeah, he could get through this.

Tag List: @cjcipher666

#sanders sides fanfiction #patton sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #Age Regression #not-so tiny sides #our creations #ts agere

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