#13 reasons why scenario

[eunjidrabbles]

30 Reasons Why

Chapter 13: You deserve an award for...

Warning: None

Word count: About 1k

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You really shouldn't be here despite all the members badgering you to sit in on the practice session. You knew that the company didn't like it when you could be easily seen by the public but the members didn't pay it any mind. So here you were sitting in a corner of their studio and watching in awe as the group ran through their dance routine part by part, pointing out even the slightest of errors in their movements.

It wasn't long before they decided a break was needed and the majority of them just plopped onto the ground with little to no intentions of moving while your girlfriend was nice enough to gather their bottles of water for them after coming over to give you a quick peck. Seeing the display of affection, Bora hopped over to where you were seated to push Yoohyeon back to the members and to grab at both your hands, enthusiastically encouraging you to join in on learning the choreography. All it took was a gentle smile and a shake of a head saying that you want for them to focus on their dance practice for her to pout at you before going back over to bother your girlfriend.

You watched as her affectionate member got a little too much for her before Yoohyeon wriggled her way out and hid behind her leader, complaining loudly that they should all be saving their energy to practice. That was when the teasing started from the youngest in the group, chiming up asking since when was she so serious about light practice. Picking up on the ploy, the rest of the group ganged up on her teasing, bringing you into the conversation all the while you were happily sitting by the side spectating the whole bullying.

Yet despite all the playing around, the moment one of the older members mentioned that it was time to go back to practicing, your girlfriend could only have the time to spare to shoot a pout your way at the lack of intervention before the music started playing. As the clock ticked by, you could also tell the patience and energy running low with everyone’s tones as they correct little parts of the routine to perfection. Perhaps it wasn’t a good day but you could tell everyone tried to make the best of practice they could, and you watched with increasing worry as Yoohyeon went around during each short break they took to compliment and cheer up the other members when they got quiet. At one point of time, she even had the main dancer to chase after her again as she ran around the room despite being tired from the practice which led to a more lively run through of the routine right after.

Practice ended when everyone ended on the studio floor panting from a full day’s of work and the energy died back down again as murmurs of what to get for dinner were shared. Watching your girlfriend pluck herself off the ground at the mention of food, you couldn’t help but chuckle and her eyes immediately flickered onto you as she gives you a big grin before attempting to sexily slow crawl her way towards you. It only led to a whole bunch of screeching as the younger members direct the attention away from the topic of food and onto her. Giving up on holding a straight face, you fell to the ground cackling along with her members as Yoohyeon whined and quickly got up to run next to you in an attempt to hide behind you. Seeing how her pout deepened, you quickly gathered yourself and passed your slightly upset girlfriend her bottle before pulling out a towel to wipe away her sweat, gently booping her nose at the end. You got yourself a nip on the finger for daring to linger longer as you looked into her eyes.

You were both dragged out from your own world when you heard the teasing sounds of cooing and gagging from the group. Choosing to ignore them this time, you rolled your eyes as the rest picked up their belongings; choosing to abandon the bottles which were behind the both of you as they slowly started to empty out of the room, leaving the two of you alone.

There was a moment of silence where the both of you were staring at one another before the automatic lights flickered out but you stayed staring at her in the dark. Without the ability to look at her, you could only feel the intimate warmth of her presence and hear the sounds of both your breathing.

You could barely feel the brush of her lips against yours before she pulled away slightly and whispered, huffs of breaths teasing you yet her words spoke otherwise.

"Let's out on a date."

Raising an eyebrow questioningly, you chuckled at the sudden change of mood.

"Right now? Where to?"

There wasn’t a moment of hesitation before she leaned in to close the gap once more leaving you slightly light headed at the affection. Grabbing at her back of her shirt to hold on as she leaned further into you, you could feel yourself being pushed backwards with her weight on you and knowing it was inevitable, you let the both of you fall onto the ground. Giggles and embarrassed whines were shared as the both of you sat back up and Yoohyeon clambered off of you before leaning back in again, this time more careful of her weight distribution.

Even through the darkness, you could feel the way her lips curled into a smile against yours as she nuzzled into you again before pulling away. You could almost see the way her eyes shined as she stared at you adoringly before pulling you up onto your feet and tugging you towards the door excitedly.

“Yes, right now! Anywhere you want to go as long as it’s with you.”

You deserve an award for brightening up everyone’s day

[the-bibrarian]

I see a lot of incomprehension online about our pension reform and the anger it generates in France, and what it often boils down to is "why are they so angry, 64 is plenty young to retire?"

I don't agree, but even if I did I would still oppose the reform. Here are some of the reasons why:

We already need 43 full years of work and tax contributions to be able to retire. Which means college-educated people were never going to retire at 64 anyway, let alone 62. This reform is aimed at people who start working early, mostly in low-paying jobs.

There's very little provision made in this law for hard/dangerous/manual labour.

There's no provision made for women who stop working to raise their children (51% of women already retire without a "complete career," which means they only retire on a partial pension, vs. 25% of men).

At 64, 1/3 of the poorest workers will already be dead. In France, between the richest and the poorest men, there's a 13 years gap in life expectancy.

Beyond life expectancy, at that age a lot of people (especially poorer, non-college educated) have too many health-related issues to be able to work. Not only is it cruel to ask them to work longer, if they can't work at all that's two more years to hold on with no pension

Unemployment in France is still fairly high (7%). Young people already have a hard time finding work, and this is going to make things even harder for them

Macron cut taxes on the rich and lost the country around 16 Billions € in tax revenue. Our estimated pension deficit should peak at 12 Billions worst case scenario.

While I'm on wealth redistribution (no, not soviet style, but I think there should be a cap on wealth concentration. Nobody needs to be a billionaire.): some of the massive profits of last year should go to workers and to the state to be redistributed, including to fund pensions. The state subsidized companies and corporations during the pandemic, Macron even said "no matter the cost" and spent 206 Billions € on businesses. Now he's going after the poorest workers in the country for an hypothetical 12 Billions??

Implicit in all of this is the question of systemic racism. French workers from immigrant families are already more likely to have started their careers early, to have low-paying jobs, are less likely to be college-educated, more at risk for disabilities and chronic illnesses, etc., so this is going to disproportionately affect them

This is not even touching on the fact that he didn't let lawmakers vote on it, meaning he knew he wouldn't get a majority of votes in parliament, or that 70% of the population is against this law. Pushing it through anyway is blatant authoritarianism.

TL;DR: This is only tangentially about retirement age. The reform will make life harder for people with low incomes, or with no higher education, for manual workers, for women—mothers especially, for POC, for people with disabilities or chronic conditions, etc. This is about solidarity.

Hope (sincerely) this helps.

[pincushionx]

Blood warning!

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I see lots of fanfics that talk about the Grimwalker stories and myths as Grimwalkers being these predators that hunt witches and are these monster that feed off of flesh, but all of these are usually false and like I said just myths.

So what if that wasn’t the case? What if Grimwalkers were the flesh craving beasts everyone thinks they are. Aka me giving Hunter the Tokyo Ghoul treatment (kinda)

This image takes place during Thanks to Them, he’s hunting and consuming animals to sustain himself but they can only do so much. He keeps it a secret because he’s ashamed, scared and full of self loathing. Unfortunately you can only sneak out and wash your clothes so frequently until you get caught.

…

The craving flesh started around the time Hunter started hitting his second stage of puberty, so around 12 to 13 years old. It started off as spouts of aggression, weight loss and odd carvings that he suppressed until he eventually snapped and attacked a scout. Once he consumed flesh, there was no going back.

This happened with a few Grimwalkers, typically one made around pubescent years due to this being a natural development. Grimwalkers who are made as adults don’t get this since get miss that developmental period. A reason why Belos made Grimwalkers strictly adults for hundreds of years before trying out a new experiment.

When Belos made Hunter, he was aware of this and rather than kill Hunter off or just make an adult Grimwalker, he decided he can benefit from a “monster” needing a source of food.

Hence, Hunter picking up a reputation for being “feral.” Belos supplies Hunter with blood and flesh but not enough to satisfy him, just the minimum to keep him alive. This is to keep Hunter at a state where he’s willing to do more work to earn more food but unfortunately this just results in cases of Hunter going “too far” aka mauling different beings (witches, beasts, demons, ect) during missions on the accounts he’s literally starving and being triggered in fights.

He can eat normal food but his sense of taste is bit dull and doesn’t give him the nutrition he needs. He can eat and eat and it will do nothing. He learns to satisfy himself through eating animals he hunts during missions. When he gets to the human realm he eats his food with an overwhelming amount of seasoning just to taste it.

He also has a very strong jaw and sharp teeth, like hyena type stuff.

(Imagine a scenario he pauses a mission mid way to go hunt some voles and eat them raw and the scouts just standing there like-)

After Hollow mind Hunter struggles because now he’s has little source of witch or demon flesh (he raids the healing classes for blood and kitchen for uncooked meat)

So during thanks to them he’s forced to live with three witches, a basilisk, two humans who are somewhat similar to witches and oh boy he struggles. His friends are concerned. Camila notices Hunter eats a lot but still looks like he isn’t gaining weight, Gus notices that he sneaks out, Vee smells something wrong with him, Luz sees how on edge he is, Amity catches on to his burst of aggression (caused by hunger and stress) and Willow notices he avoids them.

They all already knows something is off with him (heightened senses, unusual teeth and jaw strength, glowing eyes, unusually tight and powerful muscles despite how gaunt he is) but only Luz knows he’s a grimwalker but hasn’t quite put the peices that’s he’s a unnatural, natural predator to witches and demons. The witches, Vee and even the humans feel a slight primal fear around Hunter but they can’t quite put the reason why, he puts them on edge even if they love him but something’s off.

Despite the fact that all of them are willing to give him blood, even some flesh if they could, the boy just refuses, since he sees himself as a literal monster that needs to be locked up.

This is me giving Hunter Grimwalker trauma x100. Anywho this is my late Halloween post aka my billionth AU idea. This was inspired by Tokyo Ghoul, Ginger snaps(2000) and the fic [redacted] Hunter by ApaMonkey on ao3! Yall should read it!

I have a weakness for flesh craving characters who aren’t villains but they aren’t so common so of course I had to project that love to my own skrunkly!

[miaoua3]

I Know You…Or Do I?

Pairing: vernon x gn!reader

Genre: fluffiest fluff to ever fluff, a little bit of comedy, first kiss scenario, childhood best friends to lovers (finally)

Synopsis: vernon decides to give you a heart attack and kiss you for the first time.

Note: i always thought that vernon would be such a friends to lovers guy and 2 minus 1 solidified that so here i present to you how i think a first kiss with this guy would go, enjoy!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

it is clear to anybody who has known vernon for longer than one minute that he’s a bit…on a peculiar side. that wasn’t an insult, but rather a truth acknowledged by a wider audience.

you, of course, knew what was an usual and an unusual behaviour coming from him. this skill didn’t come up all that easily to you, but rather from knowing him since you were but an infant. you both had your mothers to thank for that, considering that their own history goes years beyond your births.

knowing someone for that long of a period is certainly admirable. you’ve always looked up to your mom’s and auntie melody’s friendship, ever since you were a child.

but now, you are an adult yourself, with your own decades long friendship.

you could confidently say that you knew vernon better than the back of your hand. so, as already mentioned, you know what’s usual and unusual for him, even though everything about him is a bit unusual.

for example, for usual behaviours we have his weird thoughts that he would message you at 2am, his weird food combos and his weird way of texting that nobody really gets except you and sofia, his angel sister that you love (sometimes more than him), to name a few.

for unusual behaviours we have the fidgeting when he’s nervous, getting unusually quiet (i mean, sure, he’s more on the quieter side as it is but…there’s just certain times when his quiet is just…off, yknow), trying to hide himself behind you in uncomfortable situations and not answering your messages for longer than 15 minutes.

oh, and kissing you out of the nowhere in your kitchen for the very first time to thank you for getting him his favourite snacks, apparently.

you’re not very sure if this has really happened or if you maybe accidentally did coke and this is just a weird hallucination as a side effect, but it got you so shocked to you just stood there, in your kitchen, with his favourite cookies in hand that you started to unpack and put on a plate before he waltzed in.

see, the reason why this is a really big problem and why it got your heart beating faster than a a racing car is because you have had the biggest crush on your best friend since you were 13. and you did such a good job at hiding your feelings and acting normal around him, even when you wanted nothing more to kiss those plush and soft lips of his.

and now it will all go to waste because how do you go back from this? how do you go back to being his friend now that you know how his lips taste, how soft they are and how much it makes your heart race?

see, you were always under the impression that, other than your friendship, vernon wanted nothing more from you. it seemed like he was perfectly okay with just having you as his platonic partner in crime.

or apparently f*cking not.

after another few second, you quickly finish platting the cookies and go back to the living room, where he’s sat, watching the movie he picked, without a care in the world.

you sit a respectful distance away from him, just watching him watch the movie, apparently feeling perfectly fine.

if only you knew.

with what must sound like the tone of a dead person, you more-so inform him “you’ve kissed me.”

the beautiful bastard has the audacity to not even turn his head in your direction, he just answers “i did”.

pondering over all the possible reasons as to why he did it, you gulp, and with all the courage left in your body, you hopefully ask him “do you like me?”

his answer makes you want to punch him…with your lips against his own, either very aggressively or very gently.

snorting, he answers “have for the last 10 years, thanks for finally noticing.”

you don’t give him any time to prepare or to see it coming for that matter-as soon as the last word leaves his mouth, you are pouncing on him, arms going around his neck, lips colliding with his, clumsily, at first, until you find your balance and climb on his lap.

it is clear that he both didn’t expect you to pounce on him like a wild animal and that he has been waiting for this moment for a very long time.

because as soon as your knees are on both sides of his hips, he’s wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as the universe will allow him to and kissing you back like a starved man, like he’s dying and you’re the only antidote that could save him.

your hands finally-finally-sink into his silky soft brown hair, scratching his scalp to see how he would react.

and his reaction doesn’t disappoint-he immediately groans in your mouth, his hands starting to wonder themselves, squeezing your thighs before they travel over your butt, over your back all the way to the nape of your neck, pulling your head closer to his so he can deepen the kiss.

your own arms tighten around his neck, your bodies so close that there isn’t a single part of your body that isn’t touching his. your thoughts are both running and are nonexistent. thinking “finally, this is all i’ve ever wanted to know-the taste of his lips and the strength of his love”, but at the same time, your mind is nowhere to be found, it’s probably floating somewhere between the cotton candy soft clouds.

after many minutes, your kiss turns from hungry and rushed to intimate, soft and tender, until it eventually comes to a stop, your noses still touching, foreheads leaning on each other.

in what must be the softest whisper you ever heard him speak in, vernon says “took you long enough”.

you lightly pinch his cheek and smile “could say the same thing to you. been waiting since we were 13 for you to finally get your head out of your ass and kiss me.”

his heavy eyes fall on your mouth, inviting him to get himself lost in them again “well, the good thing is that now that i finally did, i don’t plan on ever stopping”.

and he never did.

as it turns out, you didn’t know him as well as you thought you did-there were still some things you had yet to find out about him. luckily, his kiss was officially off that list.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

(somewhere, not that far away, your mom gives auntie melody 10$ for losing their bet that they had going since you and vernon were both 10.)

[yanderecrazysie]

If your still open. May I please ask for a scenario with yandere Miya twins in a soulmate au where the first words of their soulmate is on their arms and theirs says ‘eat a dead dog and die’

The Miya twins always get the butt end of my soulmate hcs XD Now they get to suffer in a one shot!

Title: Disgust

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x Reader; Miya Osamu x Reader

AU: Soulmate AU

WARNINGS: yandere themes, swearing, aged up characters (last year of school)

Disgust

/noun/

a feeling of revulsion or strong disapproval aroused by something unpleasant or offensive:

“Who’s the ugly chick?”

“You’re in the way. Move.”

You knew those words were coming since you were 16 years old. One sentence in chicken scratch and the other in perfect penmanship, both scrawled out on your arm. Somehow, 13 years later, it still took you by surprise. 

The Miya twins were well-known throughout the school for many reasons. For one, they were handsome. Two, they were great at volleyball, bringing the team to nationals every year. 

Three, they could be utter assholes when they felt like it.

Osamu had a penchant for thinking he was better than everyone else. He was far too blunt and rude, saying cruel things with the blankest of faces. Atsumu was easily worse. He would lie shamelessly to your face, he was rude to everyone, and he cheated on both girls and schoolwork.

You had fantasized about meeting your soulmates since you were little, always picturing something romantic despite the words on your arm. Maybe you’d both reach for the same book or you’d bump into them at a party. Somehow, these words had to be a joke…

Tears filled your eyes. Not because of the insults, no, you’d heard worse. It was the fact that the universe had decided that, more than anyone else, you deserved to have the Miya twins. It was so unfair- surely there was a better match out there.

“Who’s the ugly chick?” Atsumu asked again, shit-eating grin on his face.

“I don’t know, she never talks to anyone,” said the girl clinging to his arm.

Atsumu’s grin didn’t fade as he held out a hand, “Nice to meet you, piggy.” The girls around them laughed as Osamu snorted.

Anger rushed through you, freezing your veins with fiery ice. Before you knew it, you were yelling, “Eat a dead dog and die, Miya!”

The twins’ smiles disappeared immediately, identical expressions of surprise crossing their faces. Smugness turned to panic and their personalities immediately did a 180.

“Whoa, whoa!” Atsumu raised his hands in surrender, “We didn’ say anythin’ wrong! We were just bein’ honest!”

“Honest?” you scoffed, “Well thanks sooooo much for your truthfulness.”

Osamu’s eyes darted to your arm, which you quickly hid behind your back. “We’re sou-”

“Don’t,” you snapped harshly, “Don’t you dare say it.”

And with that, you turned on your heel and stormed away, ignoring the calls for you to come back. Your hands curled into fists as the tears that threatened to fall now slid down your cheeks.

Those two arrogant, cruel assholes were your soulmates? Then you’d rather die alone.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------

“Did ya see the look she gave us?” Atsumu whined during practice, “Like she hated us or somethin’...”

“Can ya blame her?” Osamu snorted, “You called her ugly and I told her to move like she was an obnoxious fly.

“We didn’t know she was our soulmate back then!” Atsumu scowled.

Osamu didn’t respond. He couldn’t stop replaying the moment over and over again in his head. Your face had twisted in anger, eyes filled with unshed tears, as you rebuked them. For once, he felt guilty. Usually he was able to shake such a response off, but this was different.

You were their soulmate!

“Maybe we should, y’know, apologize,” Osamu suggested, tossing a volleyball to his twin.

Atsumu caught the ball and stared at his brother, “Apologize?” He said it as though the word was foreign to him. “Why the hell would we do that?”

“‘Cause we were assholes, ‘Tsumu.”

Atsumu’s brow drew together and a pout appeared on his lips, “I’m not apologizing for somethin’ I didn’t know at the time. She’s just makin’ this harder than it has to be.”

Osamu frowned. Deep down, he knew Atsumu felt just as guilty as he did.

—------------------------------------------------

The Miya twins were nothing if not determined. Atsumu wanted to use the direct approach- cornering you and forcing you to talk to them, but Osamu overruled that idea. They didn’t want to scare you off, after all.

First, they wanted to find out everything they could about you.

They watched from a distance as you went about your day, studying your habits and facial expressions, taking notes on your friends, and even figuring out what snacks or drinks you got from the vending machine.

Next, they wanted to make themselves useful.

Atsumu crashed into you, sending your books flying. He apologized and then forcefully offered to carry your books for you. Osamu went to the cafe you worked at part-time and left huge tips. Soon, their presence was everywhere, all at once.

You couldn’t escape them.

At first, you thought it was just bad luck, running into them so often. But as time went on, it was clear these weren’t coincidences. You got the creeps when you realized they were following you.

No matter how polite or charming they acted, you couldn’t forget your first meeting. You heard their snarky words over and over again, saw their smug grins floating through your mind.

Every time you turned around, they were there, offering help you never asked for.

It was suffocating.

—----------------------------------------------------

“She’s still giving us the cold shoulder,” Atsumu whined, flopping onto his twin’s bed with a dramatic sigh.

Osamu scrolled through the pictures he’d secretly taken of you on his phone. “She’ll come around.”

Atsumu’s eyes narrowed, “And if she doesn’t? What if she hates us forever?”

“She won’t,” Osamu said firmly, “We just need to show her we’re serious.”

“We swappin’ over to my plan?” Atsumu grinned.

Osamu’s lips curled into a knowing smile, “Exactly.”

You belonged to them- fate itself ordained it. 

They weren’t about to let you slip away.

[konpeitonom]

can u do curly jealousy hdcs >_< i love your works btwwww

jealousy headcanons for captain grant curly.

sfw — lowercase intended ^_^

fem reader —

requests are open and heavily encouraged, i write for every mw character ^.^

notes; thank u that’s very sweet. i’m happy people are enjoying my writing, as i’ve not written fics since i was maybe 13..

scenario is you work with him.. but this is not on the tulpar, maybe pre space travel preparation activities. and ur friends outside of work of course:) not proofread as alwayysss.. hope u like it anon it’s extra short..

— curly is the kind of guy who .. does not get jealous easily. he feels safe and secure in your relationship, so he doesn’t have much of a reason too! jealously is a feeling that is like, ‘i envy what they have�� .. but he already has you.

— if he does get jealous while you’re dating, he wouldn’t tell you. he’d feel too bad. but he would have a conversation like “i don’t really like when __ does __…”

— he’d get a bit clingy touch wise. like after whatever event went on, and you’re alone together, he’d coddle you just a bit to remind you that he’s there! pay attention to him!

— but pre-dating is a bit of a different story! he likes that you have male friends. but just not too much, you know? he doesn’t want any competition, because then he’ll feel as if he’s already lost

— he can get a bit heated when it’s a guy he has no relation with. like if it’s jimmy, he knows jimmy could never do something like that (lol) but some random guy? that he can’t justify the actions of? it gets him upset..

— would use his authority a little to make sure you don’t work with guys he doesn’t know well. or guys that are kinda known to hit on the other girls. subconsciously he does this.

— like if another guy is helping you out he’ll place his hand on his shoulder nicely like, “no need for that. i’ll show her instead, get back to work.”

— “just ask me next time, okay?”

— his jealousy is not angry, it is more.. i’m so sad, i feel so guilty. i'm so, so horrible, i don’t own her in anyway so why? kind of jealous. haha

— it causes him to spiral a bit, i won’t lie.. even more so if you’re apparent in your interest in him. like are you like that with every guy or are you genuinely interested?

— vents to jimmy about it and he’s just like. okay bud, first world problems. just tell her you like her. and is alll bitter about it.

[loveandleases]

Hi there another question from me! So saw this on a different Tumblr account but I have to ask fake-out-make-out scenarios. If your happy to do them.

How would the RO's react to MC doing this trope, in the like crushing/yearning stage.

Doesn't have to be too spicy whatever your happy with if you don't mind. Please and thank you

As far as I know this is the first time I've actually gotten this question? So I'll definitely answer it! (Will be crushing stage) Below the cut for more~

❤️ Cam- (if Cam was your first kiss) As you pull away Cam’s eyes open, searching your face, for what he isn’t sure. To see if you hated it? Or more precisely, to see if you hated that it was him you kissed.

“Sorry, I didn’t know what else to do.” He notices the shakiness to your voice. He notices your lips moving, how they’re red and swollen and wet with saliva, knows you’re explaining the reasoning behind it. Likely to do with the person who asked you to dance earlier that night. The same one who decided to leave right after seeing you kiss.

It doesn’t sink in what you did, not fully, not until you feel a finger tracing along your bottom lip. You turn your gaze to look at him, at your best friend, the best friend you very much just kissed in a room full of people.

Cam places his hand over yours, still resting on his chest. Worried that you might feel how fast his heart is beating, how much it’s quickened in your presence, in your actions. “It’s okay. Besides it’s not like it’s the first time we kissed, right?”

That gets your attention, and he mentally pats himself on the back for it. To see the way you scrunch your face when he teases about, that. He’s not sure how well he’s hiding his smile, he doesn’t feel his cheek tighten from his dimple. Maybe he’s better at hiding some of his emotions than he thought. Yeah, right.

“Cameron Clarke! We were like 13 when that happened, you can’t compare that to now.” Your hands now rest on your hips, something his eyes take in happily. Maybe he can get his heart under control before you figure out just how much he actually liked that little kiss.

“More like 16.” He scoffs, his eyes dart to your lips, the way your tongue darts out to lick off the saliva, to the furrow of your brow, the look in your eyes. One he isn’t quite sure on how to read. You don’t look disgusted, regretful. Not how he thought you would. He’s able to read you better than anyone else, except this time. This time, even Cam can’t figure it out.

“You’re never going to let me live that down. That was bec-”

Stepping closer to you, Cam’s other hand reaches up to your face, his thumb rubbing along your bottom lip as it does so. Your words dying in your throat. Then he slowly slides his hand along the side of your face cradling it gently. Cam swallows, tilting your head so that you look at him, his lips inching closer.

“Cam..”

“They’re still there.” No they’re not.

“Just this once.”

Cam nods, just this once.

💙 G - “What do you mean you see Chris?” You try to keep your voice low, hoping to not be overheard. With one hand on the side of your face, in hopes of concealing your identity, which you have to admit must be pretty damn laughable considering how hard G is trying to hide their smile. You try to look behind you, but G’s grip on your arms tighten.

You can’t recall what you two where bickering about, something to do with proper pet bedding, an argument that was quickly forgotten when G stood frozen and mentioned Chris was behind you, on their way to the very elevator you two inhabit.

You turn in hopes of slamming a finger on the button to close the elevator door, but once you turn to look you freeze. Chris sees you, and you them. Their step falters and their eyes go to G and you.

Fingers gently grab your chin, turning you to look at them. G smiles, a sad smile, one you know they have given you before, but unable to recall when. They look torn, as if what they're about to do will undo them entirely. Maybe that's why it takes you by surprise, maybe this was not something you ever expected to happen between the two of you, at least not again.

G bends down slowly, you know you have time to pull away to stop what's about to happen. But if you're being honest that's the last thing you want to do.

Out of the corner of your eyes that Chris grips their hands, and your eyes close. Chris all but forgotten as G’s hand slides to your waist.

A low groan sounds in their throat, and they push you backward, your back against the walls of the elevator as the door finally closes. Chris no longer witnessing the exchange. You think G will pull away, this little charade done and over. But they don’t.

Their fingers dig into your side, their tongue sliding against your lips for permission, and you give it gladly.

After several minutes the two of you pull away, trying to catch your breaths, and G pulls away, as if having several feet between the two of you would help any. They're unable to look at you, wiping at their lip softly, "I..didn't know what else to do."

💚 Kara - For as bold Kara can be, when her lips claim yours it feels as if she can break at any moment. Her fingers are laced into your hair, and she has you pressed so tightly against the wall of the bar that it's even hard to breath. There's a hint of urgency there, underneath the fear. "Chris is going to kill me." She murmurs against your lips, but doesn't stop herself from going in for another kiss. The person who had been bugging her scoffed and walked away as soon as her lips touched yours. She doesn't seem as confident in her kiss, almost as if each soft peck was testing the waters, trying to see where you would stop. But you've been thinking about kissing her for awhile now, Chris be damned.

💛 M - "For fucks sake man. Can't you see they're not interested. Hello, am I invisible sir? Am I?" M is clasping your hand tightly, fingers intertwined and are now waving them around. The man looks taken aback, M still giving them a glare since this is now the sixth time the guy has asked for your number. Not looking as if they're going to back off M turns to you, so many emotions flicker over there face in a span of a few seconds. "M-mmph!" It's clumsy, it's messy, but it's M. Their teeth sinks into your lip briefly eliciting a moan from you, which only causes your mouth to open allowing their tongue to slip in. For as reserved M can be about things, you did not expect this. Not the way their hips press against you as if searching for more than just your lips. Their lips are minty thanks to the tea now laying forgotten on the counter of the cafe. "M...p-people are looking." They pull back just slightly, eyes heavy lidded and looking you over, "What?" The confusion on their face is something endearing, well it would be any other time. Your eyes shoot around, and they suddenly drop your hand, cheeks tinting under your gaze. "I...need....I..hot" Is all they can muster before you have to drag them out.

💜 Isaac - You're not sure who Isaac is hiding from, you just know that as soon as they saw them, they grabbed you, pulling you against their chest as their back rests against the car. "This is just a kiss alright? Don't...don't think of it as more." Isaac is quick to pull you towards them, hand falling on the back of your neck and lifting you upwards. For being "just a kiss" Isaac is putting far more feeling in it than you could have imagined. Especially given the low groan that makes its way through their throat. "Isaac, they're gone." You know they hear you, can feel their lips tighten ever so slightly as if wanting to frown, but Isaac pulls you in again. Their hands slightly shaking as they skim your sides, eventually resting on your hips. You pull back just enough to look at them, the way their eyes lock onto your lips as if that's the only thing they can see. "Not yet." They say, pulling you in for one last kiss, one last languid kiss that they think about for the rest of the night.

🖤 Ardent - "Oh, my goodness Denny! Is this them? This the one your uncle Nik mentioned you been bringing around, oooh aren't they cute." You had every intention of telling Ardent off today, you would be lying if you remembered why you were telling him off, you just remembered being pissed at him when you went to bed. So, surely it was for a good reason. Well, that was until you came across her. Who you assume is Ardent's mothers if her looks were any indication. She practically hangs off Ardent's arm, almost attempting to reach over and pinch your cheeks as she looks between the two of you. "I..I'm not sure what Nik said but I'm not-" Before you could speak another word Ardent yanks you to him, pulling himself away from his mom in the process. "Oh, well darling if you wanted privacy, you should have said so." She quickly smacks him on the back, making her way out the door. But not before inviting you to dinner later that night. "Don't forget to be safe sweetie!" Ardent's mom yells through the hall. Ardent kisses you even harder, as if her words angered him...but something tells you it was quite the opposite in fact. It's a rough kiss, one that leaves your lips sore and teeth slightly red from the way his teeth sink into your lip. "Think she's gone now, Denny. You know if you just wanted out of talking to your mom I could have sent Cam over." "God, do that and I'm raising your rent." He blows a breath, pushing the loose strands of hair from his eyes. "Oh yeah, well for doing that," you point to your lips then to his, "I expect a hell of a lot more than free rent for a month." "Is that right?" He places his arms on each side of you, pressing you flush against the wall. "What were you thinking, trouble?" You don't mind stirring him up, in fact it's become one of your favorite past times, but sometimes Ardent just doesn't back down, no matter how hard you tease him. "Ah...ah, oh coming Cam!" You duck out from under his arm and head toward the door. "Wait, be ready by five, I"ll pick you up." "For?" He doesn't say anything for a moment, instead picking up Cupid and holding her in his arms, honestly the man couldn't look more horrifying. Like a villain with an accomplice, that being Cupid. You don't miss the way his lip curls, the faintest of smiles on his face. "Dinner with the family."

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

If you're down for disaster fics, I'd love to see something where the team finds out Buck and Tommy are back together (it's been a secret ssshhhhh) after they get into a car accident together and they respond to the call. (Maybe Buck asked off for ~reasons~ and wouldn't tell anyone.)

Signed,

Actually V88SY

There’s this sound, a high-pitched whistling. Like shattered glass, its fragments rubbing against each other’s edges forever and ever. The sound shuts out everything else, even thoughts, though memories remain. This isn't the first time Buck has heard that tone, is it?

He’s twelve, almost 13, when he sneaks into the club through the backdoor; there’s a rock concert, and there’s a girl he knows will be there. Buck doesn’t have $40, he just has a crush, and there’s nobody at the backdoor. In the end, he stares at the bartender for a long time, fascinated by the guy’s long blonde hair and the clear kohl line around his green eyes. The girl he's interested in is somewhere in the crowd, and as Buck pushes his way through the dancing and jumping people, he ends up at the stage. He doesn't know the band, they're just a couple of loud musicians as far as that's concerned, but the bass booms through the speakers next to which he’s standing, and the strobe light burns into his retinas. It's exciting, at least until the next day, when there’s this high-pitched, loud whistling in his ears that just won't go away. He's tired from the long night, but using the noise as an excuse to miss school is a mistake. His mother drags him to the ear specialist, who diagnoses a hypersensitivity to high-pitched sounds, but that doesn't stop Buck from sitting in class by noon.

It sounds about the same now. Everything else is faded out, even... somehow, his body. He’s probably lying in bed, in that fleeting, foggy state just before falling asleep. Maybe he went to a concert? Maybe Buck decided, twenty years later, to make up for what he did as a teenager and actually pay for a band he likes. It’s just, he’s not a big music guy. Tommy is, though.

Why, of all people, Tommy is now creeping into his mind he doesn’t know, but why not? Why shouldn't he think of Tommy just before falling asleep, something he’s been doing for months anyway. About a week before the breakup, they talked about a concert, didn't they? Buck remembers smiling and nodding, watching Tommy enthusiastically talk about a band he had loved since he was a teenager, and who were actually playing a concert in L.A. A day later, Buck bought tickets without telling his boyfriend. Tommy never asked him to go to the event; he just assumed that Buck wouldn't be interested, and although Buck's secret was heavy on his tongue, it was easy to keep it because Tommy seemed to have forgotten about it. But that was months ago, and then they had broken up. Maybe, just maybe, Buck has gone to the concert alone, if only to remember what Tommy loved. He likes that thought. As it often does, one thought leads to another, and he remembers other times, other things. Places they’ve been together, people they met, things they’ve done. And things they would have liked to do, it all gets mixed up, a special cocktail. Ingredients: dreams and memories.

Buck is sleepy, warm and almost comfortable, if it weren't for that relentless whistling. He can't feel his body, which must mean that he has sunk deep into the mattress, his limbs heavy from a long shift. After the breakup, Buck spent so many days and nights lying in bed, watching Tommy’s traces vanish bit by bit. Then he thought of how the soft surface under Tommy's body had given way, sometimes leaving a hollow the next morning; a hollow with Tommy's outline that disappeared as the memory foam slowly returned to its original shape. Often he imagined they’d reconciled, realizing their split was the wrong move. In this scenario, Buck had fought for it, had demanded they’d talk, tear-streaked and desperate, but with vigor.  And then, after more and mutual tears, long talks and confessions, they'd have pressed new hollows into the mattress, together.

Those fantasies never really stopped, they went on, he remembers every single one of them. Why now? He can’t say, but they’re sure distracting him from the sound in his ears. All these daydreams are as real as memories, and just as painless, which is the best part. There’s this one day when they make love on the beach, in a tiny, secluded cove that is rarely visited at this hour, or at any other hour for that matter. After that, they lie there, grains of sand on their skin and salt on their lips from the spray, when Buck’s phone disrupts this peacefulness. “An emergency,” he says regretfully after glancing at the display, “a large-scale operation, I think-” He doesn't get a chance to finish the sentence, as Tommy's phone starts buzzing, too. It’s the moment when they both realize that they don't want to destroy the magic. Not the magic of the moment; duty calls, that will always come first. No, the wonder of what they’ve recreated, this delicate plant that needs to be nurtured. Trust that must be earned, love that must be protected. It’s the moment when they decide to keep this new relationship secret.

Buck finds this decision not only logical, but proper. All of his friends, even his sister, advised him not to call Tommy, told him to take his mind off the matter, tried to persuade him to jump back into the pool after just a few weeks. This advice had always been welcome in the past, but now it aroused his mistrust. It was a small but constantly festering wound: no one recommended that he – a man in his 30s who had only just discovered his sexuality anew – talk things over with Tommy. Buck had never fought for many things in his life; he had accepted, given up, reoriented himself.  He had always left, had made room, but this time he wanted to stay. The daydream feels so real, Buck seems to remember that they decided to keep their love a secret. That he went to work and acted as if he had spent his day off at home, “are you still brooding over Tommy?” someone asked, and he shook his head. A shake of the head can mean many things, not just refusal, and so it was not a lie, just as on many days and occasions later he never lied, he only bent the truth.

The dream memories come crashing down, raining down on him like broken glass, each shard carrying an image. Here’s Buck, gently smiling when his colleagues and friends ask him for his plans for the night; whatever story he’ll tell, truth is that he’ll rest his head in Tommy’s crook. There's Tommy, opening the door, his smile scrunching his nose as Buck crushes into his embrace. They're both in dozens of these memory shards, laughing and loving and learning, together. This should hurt, all the things that could have been, shouldn’t it? Yet, it doesn’t, it is a pleasant cocoon. Maybe a little tight, though. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Buck wakes up and finds himself completely twisted in sweaty sheets, as if he had tossed and turned in his sleep. Maybe he isalready sleeping, and these are not the minutes before falling into the land of dreams, but the flash of his consciousness between two phases of sleep.

Another sound mixes with the high-pitched whistling, disrupting the beautiful memories and dreams, a siren. The sound of his life, somehow. There was probably an accident. Maybe they need AirOps, and Tommy is already hovering over it all, looking at the world from above as if he is untouched by what’s happening below. But he isn’t. Tommy, Buck knows this now, tried to protect his heart precisely because it is so sensitive. Somehow the thought hurts now after all, weighs on his chest as if it wants to crush him. It's getting uncomfortable, time to wake up and fix the sheets, or his life, because…

Buck opens his eyes, and he remembers. He remembers everything.

“You really have tickets?” Tommy asks in disbelief, although Buck is already waving them in front of his eyes. 

“I've got tickets. Have had them for months, ever since you mentioned the band is playing in the stadium. It’s a bit intimidating, I’ve got to say, such a big-”

Tommy shuts his mouth with a fierce kiss. Then he pushes him gently at arm's length, scrutinizing his face. 

“When I told you about it... shortly after that we broke up, Evan.”

“Yeah,” Buck says, smiling. The memory no longer hurts. 

“Why didn't you sell the tickets?”

Buck looks at him, pondering, and then he decides, after a long breath, to simply tell the truth. That's one of the things they agreed on when they decided to try again. To do it right this time. And it’s easy now, easy with Tommy’s large and warm hands on his shoulders, grounding him. If he wanted to, he could let himself fall into these arms now, he’d be safe, and that's what matters. 

“I believe I was thinking of one of those rom-coms you like so much,” he finally says, completely without irony, because it’s true. Tommy, this big beefy guy with hobbies like Muay Thai, is a sucker for tv romance.   “I thought that if I kept these tickets, it would be a reminder of what you love, and that, somehow, connects us.”

He watches Tommy’s gaze become soft; eyes so blue as a mountain lake in summer, one of Buck’s fondest memories. 

“I thought maybe I'd work up the courage to go alone,” he continues.  “I don't even know the band, that's not the point. I would have recognized you in everything, that’s it. At some point, they’d play a sentimental love song, and I’d turn around to see you in the crowd. You’d see me too, your eyes would light up…”

“Do I look sad?” Tommy asks softly. 

By now they’re intimately entwined, so close that a sheet of paper wouldn't fit between them. They look like they're dancing. A few hours later, they actually will be, because the band is playing a love song, but it’s not sentimental at all. 

“A little,” says Buck. There's nothing embarrassing about the fantasy, it just shows that his thoughts have always revolved around Tommy, who immediately gets it and even plays along. “Like a man who regrets his decision upon seeing me.”

“Pretty smug,” Tommy replies with his lips on Buck's neck. 

They leave a little late because fantasy and reality mix in the most pleasant way after this, but they still arrive on time. The concert is actually fun, it’s a captivating band, and Tommy is so happy. Perhaps Buck will never forget the moment when Tommy actually left him, his petrified face with this it’s for the best-look. But he also saw Tommy's eyes on the brink of tears, and that's what he clings to for weeks. The thought that Tommy didn’t want this, that he might regret it grows stronger every time people tell him to get over it. They have a lot of catching up to do when they get back together, half a year of ignorance that they both need to work out. But now they're happier than ever, because going through difficult times together brings people closer. Buck knows this; he just should have remembered it sooner. 

A lot of time has passed since they broke up, but even the attentive Hen hasn't noticed when Buck stopped baking cakes and bread. Nobody, not even Maddie, would’ve been able to tell the exact moment when he stopped looking sad, when he started to laugh again, to live again. Another reason why he chose to not tell anybody, as if it were like the silly saying on the station’s coffee mugs, taken literally: bad mojo, if you don’t get enough of what you need. All firefighters are superstitious, to a certain extent, and maybe Buck just doesn’t want to jinx it. Not even Eddie knows, who has left a gap in Buck's life – a different kind of loss, and a different kind of pain. Eddie is happy, he’s content now, and it would have been easy to share this secret with his best friend, even more so with all the miles between them. A part of Buck that he's trying to leave behind now that he's happy with Tommy again, at least that part of him is resentful of Eddie. But… maybe, this loss upon losses was just the final straw, the last drop on a bucket full of sorrow. Just what he needed to feel anger again about life, choosing to not be fair to him once more. Only this time he used the anger constructively, not turning it against himself. He used it to understand that the world didn't revolve around him. It was the moment he realized that ultimately, everything had always turned out well for him, that there had always been someone to catch him; family and friends who were always there for him in one way or another. Tommy had never had that. It was only when understanding finally dawned that Buck began to see behind the façade. 

They dance at the concert like lovers do, oblivious, as if there weren't this surging crowd around them. They hold each other's hands, and Buck watches Tommy's face fascinated as he sings along loudly to lyrics Buck doesn't recognize. Has he ever been so carefree? He’s different, now that they’re back together, and still the same. Still reliable, calm and endearing, but also more open, more… himself. It’s a side of Tommy that makes Buck’s heart ache with warmth. For the first time in his life, he realizes he can make people happy. He’s long since become more than the worthless spare parts he saw himself as for so many years. He’s a firefighter, a friend, a brother-in-law and a brother, and now he’s a lover again, and it’s beautiful. Buck is watching Tommy’s lips move without even hearing him sing, it’s just too loud, and he draws him close and seals those lips with his own.

The concert lasts almost three hours, the band plays overtime, encore after encore rushing over the ecstatic crowd. It’s almost midnight when they finally hit the road again, and Buck is so overstimulated by everything that he’s glad Tommy is driving. It's not easy to get out of the parking garage; thousands of people are moving towards their cars, and the line at the exit is long. Buck rolls down the window as they inch along the freeway behind all the concert-goers. L.A.’s air is rarely fresh, but today it is at least crisp enough to calm his overflowing thoughts a little. He can still feel the bass booming in his ears. Buck knows that the ringing in his ears will only get worse; it will probably plague him throughout the next day, and he will need an excuse if he can't hear well during his shift. But there’s this smile on Tommy’s face, even if his face is focused while driving, and Buck thinks that it was worth it. 

The ride is slow, but that doesn't matter; Tommy has a CD with the band's latest album in the car, and thus the concert continues for a while. It’s a good time, almost surreal, as if time has stood still. At least until the moment when the traffic suddenly starts moving again. A cool breeze wafts around Buck’s heated face, and he feels larger than life, invincible. This night, the ride home might last forever, and he’d be fine with it.

Except it doesn’t, and he’s not. 

The noise in his ears is getting louder, a whistling much shriller than the sound of the airflow from the window. But louder still is the bang that ends it all.

It does not end. 

The world returns like the sound in Buck’s ears; all of a sudden, as if to say surprise, it's not over yet. The weight on his chest is not the result of gloomy thoughts, but of the seat belt cutting into his skin. This will leave marks, deep bruises in various shades of blue, and it will continue to hurt for days. Buck's arms are heavy, and he wonders why they're the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes, until he realizes that he reflexively extended them as if the firefighter part of him knew there was going to be an impact. His hands are pressed into the airbag, and a doctor will later remark that it’s a miracle he didn’t break both wrists. It certainly feels like it, but his hands are only, if heavily, bruised. He regards the impending swelling almost clinically, like any first responder who has to create a catalog of injuries in his head in order to assess the situation. 

It’s very quiet, and that seems strange, somehow. Part of him clearly understands what has happened. You don't need to be a psychic to work out that there has been an accident, a multiple pile-up on the highway. Later, it will be known that one of the drivers who left the stadium was drunk. Intoxicated and impatient, because the traffic jams kept coming. In a few weeks, one of the people involved in the accident will sue the city and the stadium owners because what kind of security concept is it that allows thousands of people to try to leave a place at the same time, without anyone advising them to use the other exits, the other arterial roads? It’s unlikely that the accident could have been prevented, but the lawyers are making a good living out of it.

Right now, that moment is still a long way off. For now, Buck is alone with the whistling in his ear and the otherwise eerie silence, with his aching arms and hands, and…

Except he’s not alone, is he? 

There's a cracking sound at the back of his neck as Buck turns his head far too quickly. His eyes widen as he realizes what seems inconceivable: the airbag on the driver's side hasn’t deployed. It seems like a cruel twist of fate, but Buck has given up on blaming destiny. It's a coincidence, a painful, stupid coincidence, that his airbag deployed and Tommy's didn't. Tommy's head was flung forward by the impact, onto the steering wheel, with nothing in between to soften the crash. Not that it would have helped much; now that Buck's almost clear-headed again, his hands are reporting a thousand pinpricks, as if his limbs had fallen asleep and were now struggling to come back to reality. They’re pinpricks now, he knows it will get so much worse in a couple of hours. He can hardly move them, but he has to. There’s a narrow but horrifyingly distinct trail of blood on the steering wheel. 

Buck forces his fingers to move, sending instructions through his neural pathways with pure willpower. He’s surprised when his hands actually come off the airbag, and even more surprised that there’s still feeling in his fingertips, because when he puts them on Tommy's carotid artery, he feels a pulse. It’s steady, not too weak; relief washes over Buck, momentarily pushing all the pain into the background. His fingers glide gently across Tommy's cheek, “Tommy,” he urges, “open your eyes for me, will you?”

He can't lose him. Buck knows he won't, he just felt his pulse, the man will come around; such a thick skull, it will withstand a lot. But reality crashes over him like a wave, washes the hardest of all truths up on the beach of his thoughts: those who love have something to lose. There it is, the last missing link: admitting it to himself. He loves him, and he wants to hold on to this, to them. Really hold on to it this time. 

Tommy stirs. Buck almost holds his breath, realizes it, and then coughs in shaky spurts. Tommy's shamelessly long eyelashes twitch. It seems to take an eternity, an eternity during which the world outside awakens – screams and sirens in the distance can be heard, and perhaps the hissing, ominous sound of fire. He blocks out all the rest, concentrating only on the here and now and the narrow, now even smaller space and on Tommy, who finally opens his eyes. His lips twitch in a vain attempt to form words, he blinks and raises his head very, very slowly. Analytically, but also with concern, part of Buck notes that Tommy's pupils are different sizes. He looks at him, and as his mind and mouth catch up, he says, “My airbag didn't deploy.”

“It didn't,” Buck confirms.

“Are you all right?”

“I'm fine.”

It's just a little exchange, and they both know it's not true; neither of them is doing well, but this kind of white lie is perfectly fine. They only have to look at each other to know that everything will be all right. Actually, this is one of those situations where they would normally both jump out of the car, ran out to see where help was needed. But now help is needed in here, now they will be there for each other. The sirens are getting louder, getting closer.

“It wasn't a dream,” Buck suddenly says, and Tommy's brows – one of them bloodied, the tear above it will require stitches – rise questioningly. “They were real memories, right? We’re… we are a thing. We’re together. We’re a couple.”

“Evan?”

Tommy suddenly looks worried, and Buck get’s it; he stammers and acts like a man with a concussion, even though Tommy is the one who hit his head on the steering wheel. 

“Just tell me it's true,” Buck breathes. He needs to hear it now, before the last bit of adrenaline leaves his body and fear will creep through his veins. The shock will inevitably come if he lets the sounds of the accident, which can still be heard, get too close to him. 

“Of course it's true,” Tommy replies, even though his usually charming smile is a little crooked with pain he can’t really hide anymore. 

Buck heaves a sigh, “Great, because I'd be sorry if I confessed my love to a mirage.” 

“You… what?” 

“Oh, don't think it's just oxytocin that wants to distract my brain. This is real, you confirmed it, so I will confirm it too: I love you, Thomas Kinard, my first, my last, my everything.” 

“You're quoting a song.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

They smile at each other, and Buck already knows. It’d be nice to hear it, but maybe he doesn’t really need to hear it. Maybe his life finally teaches him, who spent his life chasing love, that love doesn’t always express itself loudly. 

“I don't want to say it now, not here,” replies Tommy. ”I even have a sore tongue, it’s not fair. I want to tell you when we’re both without pain, alone and…”

“But we are alone,” Buck interjects with a smile, but Tommy shakes his head.

“Not for much longer.”

Sure enough, when Buck focuses, he can tune out the whistling in his ears; there are squealing tires, orders being shouted, a fire hose being rolled out. 

“Oh,” he says, ”Oh. There will be questions.”

“Maybe it's not the 118.”

“You don't believe that yourself.”

They’re arguing like an old couple, Buck realizes, a soft kind of bickering that warms his heart. They’re not old, but they are a couple.

“Maybe it’s time to tell them,” he says.

“You sure?”

It seems difficult, but Tommy manages to raise a hand and put it on Buck's. That must have hurt, but he did it anyway, and maybe that’s their new motto: to do it anyway. 

“I’m sure.”

My heart is sure.

[AO3 version] Thank you so much for this prompt! It turned out a bit different than what you probably imagined, but I still hope you like it.

[protagaster]

Hello, all! My hyper-fixation and maladaptive daydreaming scenarios are currently centering around the fantastic EPIC! the Musical, created by the amazing Jorge Rivera-Herrans!

However, because I have a female main character bias, I tend to imagine the songs as if they were sung by my current best girl: Penelope.

Thankfully, two artists went ahead and drew this into reality: @vioofc and @too-much-flynnolium. Inspired by their works of perfection, I have gone and wrote the first of many vignettes based around this Warrior Penelope AU!

There is also a version on Ao3, if you prefer that platform over Tumblr!

EDIT (10/7):

Hello all! I'm in the process of heavily editing this AU in order to have it:

A) Make more sense

B) Fit the timeline better

You'll notice some changes here and there in the story! Some of the content was cut, but don't worry! I'm gonna add it into a fic of its own in the future, so look out for that! ;)

(Credit to @w3ndytheraccoon for an excellent idea of theirs I included in this AU! You'll see it towards the end!)

A King with no Queen (EPIC! Swap AU)

Odysseus is trying to cope with many things. 

His failure forced his beloved Penelope to fight the Trojan war in his stead, leaving behind all she ever knew and what she thought herself to be. In turn, the King was left to run his kingdom and raise their daughter all by himself. 

This is how things have been for the past 12 years. And now, to make things even harder, the first of his suitors have made themselves at home in his palace…

~

Odysseus is a rare kind of man. 

In fact, it was not uncommon for the King of Ithaca to be compared to a single drachma coin. There seemed to be two completely opposing sides driving him:

On one end, Odysseus was the alluring, cunning, quick-witted man that achieved many impressive feats throughout his life. 

He was deemed ready and crowned King of Ithaca at the young age of 13, despite his father being very much alive. He passed her challenge and was gifted the guidance of the Goddess of Wisdom herself, something he very much boasted to all who would listen.

He even fell in love with a Princess of Sparta!

And, despite the warnings of those closest to him, she too fell in love and accepted his hand, regardless of how small and lacking his humble Ithaca was compared to the grandiose and luxurious Spartan kingdom. 

Yes, despite being relatively smaller and having considerably less strength when compared to his fellow Greek man, Odysseus was a warrior with an arguably more valuable and sought after prowess: a warrior of the mind. 

So why, even with these innate talents and gifts of intellect, was it not enough to keep him from harm during that first year of war? 

Why was it not enough to keep her, the only person whose life he desired more than his own, to have to pay for his hubris? 

That was where the other side of Odysseus’ drachma came into view, a side of despair. A side of longing. A side that waited… 

~

“Your Majesty…”

Eurylochus waited for a moment, staring at the king from the double-doors of his bedchamber balcony. 

… 

Nothing. 

“Odysseus…” Eurylochus tried again, if not for a response then hoping for at least some form of acknowledgment.

… 

Still nothing. 

Eurylochus was unsure of what to do. 

It was far too early for his liking; the sun was still in the oceans’ embrace, the sky a dark indigo with only a few streams of orange light penetrating its serenity. 

The day was only just beginning. Any other morning Eurylochus would most likely still be asleep, albeit prepared to wake once the early light illuminated his dark and lonely bedroom. 

However, this day was not like any other. 

And so, with great reluctance for more than one reason, Eurylochus woke early to fetch his king. One of his best friends. His brother. 

And this made him nervous. 

Not to wake the other, mind, as Odysseus always woke within the first instances of Helios’ light. 

No, Eurylochus was nervous because of what the day represented. 

And so, in an act that could have been either futile avoidance, petty rebellion, or a sad mix of both, Eurylochus allowed his brother to have this one moment of disassociation. 

Meanwhile, on the other end of the balcony, Odysseus continued to sit peacefully in his kline. He had chosen not to respond to the call of his name, despite knowing the urgency behind Eurylochus’ visit. 

Instead, Odysseus chose to stay true to his personal morning ritual: sitting in silence with morning’s first light.

He had honored this custom for more than a decade; he did not want today to be the one time he disturbed his routine, nor did he want to leave the comfort the balcony’s kline brought him. 

Every morning he sat in silence, waiting. Every morning he sat in his designated seat, the left side of the kline, soothed by what it represented. 

After all, it was Penelope’s very first contribution when brought to her new home. 

Odysseus remembered when the young couple had picked out the kline upon their first week of engagement, with Penelope first to declare that the right side belonged to her. Odysseus remembered laughing, saying that it made sense "considering she is always right". 

The kline was placed on the left side, on the farthest corner of their bedroom balcony. In this place the loveseat had a perfect view, with Ithaca’s beaches on one side and the villages of the common folk on the other. Penelope always loved this spot, for if she wanted she could see the sky kiss the ocean and embrace the beaches from above, or the hustle and bustle of her people, satisfied and content with their lives, down below. 

At first Odysseus did not understand why Penelope would subject herself to wake so early in the morning simply to gaze upon the rising sun. Now, only after she had been forcefully sent away, did he understand how something as simple as the day’s first light could bring an instance of happiness to an otherwise age of despair. 

And thus led to his daily ritual, one he has promised never interrupted no matter what.  

Every sunrise for the past 12 years, starting from the moment he woke, the King of Ithaca would spend a few minutes staring at the various views outside his bedroom balcony; it was never too long, but the minutes always lingered with a heavy sense of despair and longing.

...

How long has it been, Odysseus couldn’t help but wonder, since he last saw his wife lounging in their kline. When was the last time she beckoned him to join her with a wave of her delicate hand, appreciating the open air whilst the kingdom was in a state of silent calm and peace. 

Too long, Odysseus concluded to himself. 

“Ody…” 

Odysseus flinched, knowing the other only called him by that name when all other options failed. 

Finally turning to acknowledge his visitor, Odysseus saw Eurylochus leaning against the door frame. His best friend, his brother, was watching him with a sad look in his eyes. 

“It’s been 3 years,” Eurylochus' voice was sad, betraying the attempt of stoicism in his eyes. “They aren’t coming back-”

“You don’t know that.” Odysseus yelled out sternly. Unfortunately, he immediately regretted it when he saw Eurylochus let out a heavy sigh with his shoulders slumping in unison.  

“Eury… I-I’m sorry-” 

“It’s okay, Ody,” Eurylochus said with a smile that was not at all genuine. “I know.” 

Odysseus wanted to kick himself. After all, he and Eurylochus were stuck in the same horrible situation. 

Both men waited, longing for someone that was no longer by their side. Both men woke alone inside their isolated, dark, empty bedchambers, at one point naively unaware of how large a bed could be until that fateful day 12 years ago. 

Both men waited, longing for the return of their wives: Queen Penelope of Ithaca and her best friend and second in command, Princess Ctimene.  

It had been 13 years since the Trojan war officially began, a petty debate between the Gods leading to Helen’s abduction. Menelaus and Agamemnon drafted Helen’s suitors to help in her rescue, using Odysseus’ proposed oath to defend her husband against those who would dare to challenge him. 

Odysseus had tried to avoid this draft through various means, but each attempt ended unsuccessfully. He was required to fight in this war, forced to take with him only the best of his Ithacan warriors. He remembered his tearful goodbyes to Penelope and Telemachas, filled to the brim with sorrow at having to leave his beautiful wife and newly-born daughter. 

From then on, since he first set foot on Trojan soil and every subsequent battle thereafter, Odysseus would pray to the Gods to find a way to end his term in the war. Anything to return back to Ithaca as quickly as possible. 

The Gods were quick to grant his wish. 

That first year of war no one could have expected things to turn out as they did. 

The men had secretly infiltrated the Palace of Troy using various spies, successfully sneaking Helen out and tucking her aboard the first ship back to Greece. Unfortunately, the Trojans were quick to discover her disappearance. 

The Trojans took their revenge the next night. The Greek army, beyond ecstatic that their primary goal had been achieved, went to sleep that night with their bellies filled with meat and cups poured with more wine than water. 

None of them noticed the dead quiet of the nature surrounding them. 

The Trojans, with their own spies implanted in the Greek army, had found their hidden camps. Before the men of Greece realized it, they were too late. They were struck without mercy, the etiquettes of war no longer a priority.  

The Greeks, despite their night of festivities, put up one hell of a fight. The battle took hours, lasting from the darkness of night up until the early crack of dawn. 

The Trojans quickly retreated once early light hit. However, the damage was done.

In the struggle Menelaus and his closest brothers-in-arms were taken prisoner, held as a form of ransom. Odysseus was the only one in Menelaus' circle to avoid this capture, for Eurylochus and the rest of his Ithacan crew refused to allow the Trojans the glory of kidnapping their king whilst under their watch.

Though there were few deaths, the Greek men were maimed and damaged beyond repair. 

The lucky ones had escaped the confrontation with more scars and wounds littering their bodies, though they were the ones likely to return to combat after a short time of recovery. The unlucky ones, the majority of the men, had been struck deep in the flesh. Their injuries sustained left no meager scars or wounds, but permanent physical hindrances to their limbs and muscles. 

Odysseus was speared in his left shoulder. Though the gash had closed and relatively faded 12 years later, he could no longer maneuver his arm as easily as before. Without his weekly massages and leather brace, which he wore only when surrounded by those he trusted, he couldn’t even wield his bow as effortlessly as he once did. 

Eurylochus was sliced in his left eye, leaving him permanently blind from that view. He had also been struck in his leg, though it was not as severe as his previous injury and had already come to a full recovery.

Regardless, the state of the current Greek army was too grave to ignore. 

A few handfuls of the men, those deemed fit and well enough to continue combat, were left behind to hold down the front lines. The rest, consisting of practically their entire army, were sent back home to recover and sustain what little dignity they still had. 

Though he had been permanently damaged, Odysseus couldn’t help but see a small silver lining. Even if it wasn’t how he expected, the Gods had granted his wish. Now, he was able to stay by Penelope’s side and raise their daughter together. 

If only he had known then what he knew now. 

Even though the men could no longer partake in battle, Greece still needed an army. And of course, for the sake of their own petty interests, this is when the Gods intervened. 

Almost immediately after he had returned home, the God of War himself stood before them with his signature spear in hand. However, he was not there to speak with the King. 

He was there to make a demand of the Queen. 

Ares ordered his student, Penelope, and her unofficial sisters-in-arms, women trained in combat with the blessings of the God of War and Goddess of the Hunt, to fight in the war against Troy on his behalf. All of this was to “make up” with Hera, after first siding with the Trojans on Aphrodite’s request. 

Odysseus remembered how he pleaded, begging to return to the battlefield in his wife’s place. Pride and flesh be damned! 

Odysseus knew what Penelope’s life would look like in Troy, having experienced it himself for the past year. Even if she had sufficient knowledge in the art of combat, trained by her life as a Spartan and student of Ares, she was still a traditional woman who enjoyed traditional womanly activities. Fighting and killing in the name of the Gods as a woman had never been heard of before that point! 

And then there was Telemachas, their beautiful baby girl who was only a single year old. What would her life look like, growing up without her mother to guide her through the trials of womanhood? 

Unfortunately no amount of begging and pleading, nor the King’s friendship with Athena, could spare his wife of her mentor’s decree; neither could it spare the many other women trained in the art of defense. 

Within the next two month a portion of Ithaca’s women, those of age and combat experience, boarded the ships to war. 

The next 12 years consisted of a mixed flurry of emotions. 

Of those 12 years it took 9 before the war came to an end. Helen, once nothing more than a damsel in distress, proved her strength to everyone with her contribution to the war. After rescuing Menelaus and the other captive men, the royalty of Troy were killed off to the last drop of blood. Rumors circulated within the Greek world that Penelope had a great hand to play in their victory, but the specificities were never clarified. 

Eurylochus, along with the people of Ithaca, recalled the look of pure joy in their King’s eyes when the messenger gave them the news. Many thought their King’s happiness was due to his wife’s battle prowess being praised by all who could speak, but those closest to Odysseus knew the truth.

Odysseus was ecstatic that his wife was finally coming home. 

Penelope would once again be inside his arms! Her warmth, her voice, her scent, they all would no longer be reduced to a distant memory. The people of Ithaca would once again have their Queen, and Telemachas could finally meet and learn from the mother she had heard so many wonderful stories about. 

That’s how things should have been by now. And yet, 3 years after the war’s end, the wives and daughters of Ithaca had still not returned. 

Many held out hope in the beginning, thinking that the womens’ delay was only a momentary setback. They believed it would not be much longer, that the women would return any day now. 

However, days turned into months. And those months quickly became years. 

With their hope dying alongside their wives and now presumed to now be widowers, the husbands and fathers of Ithaca reacted in very different ways. Many remarried, desperate to once again have their homes filled with the comfort of a wife and care of a mother. The rest could not bear the thought of remarriage, taking up vows of celibacy in honor of their fallen wives and praying to the Gods that their love alone would be good enough for their children. 

The one thing they all had in common: they had lost hope of their wives ever returning to Ithaca. 

This was where Odysseus differed from them all. 

His people, Eurylochus, and now even Polites had tried telling him how likely it was that Penelope perished at sea. They reminded him that as the King of Ithaca it was his duty to find a new Queen. The kingdom needed a female role model alongside the male, to help him rule and lead their kingdom to prosperity. This was the standard procedure for royalty in Greece.

But Odysseus was never one to follow the standard procedure. 

“Some of our… visitors… are making themselves at home in the throne room.” Eurylochus finally broke the silence once again, reminding Odysseus of the very thing he was trying to disassociate from. “They’re asking when you’ll go to see them.” 

Odysseus couldn’t mask his frustration. 

3 years. That’s all those selfish dogs had given him to “mourn” for the love of his life, for the mother Telemachas never had the chance to know. 

And now that the 3 years were up, they expected him to move on just like that. 

“Already?” Odysseus commented as he rose from his left seat, almost feeling impressed with the desperation of his so-called guests. “Helios hasn’t even finished placing the sun in its morning spot.”

“C’mon, you and I know human nature better than anyone.” Eurylochus scoffed, having to turn his head to get a proper view of the palace yards beginning to pack with various women and their guards. “Who would ever resist the chance to obtain more power?” 

Odysseus let out a scoff of his own as he walked back inside his bedchamber, practically identical to Eurylochus’. Though his expression was quick to change into one of concern. 

“What of Telemachas!? Is she-” 

“She’s still sleeping. I went to check on her before coming to get you.” Eurylochus answered calmly to Odysseus’ growing anxiety. “I knew you’d ask, so I figured I’d get it out of the way.”

Odysseus let out a sigh of relief. Eurylochus was one of the very few people he trusted with the keys to his palace, which meant he was one of the only few with the ability to open the doors of the royal bedchambers. 

If Telemachas was still asleep, then that meant she would be spared of the wrath and judgments of the “guests” below. For now. 

He would have to check in on her later, for both their sakes. 

Meanwhile, for the sake of maintaining peace, Odysseus had a duty to greet his guests and show them hospitality. Even if he didn't want to. 

And he really, really didn't want to. 

~

Odysseus, now wearing his royal chiton and elegant gold crown, walked down the halls of his palace with his head held high. Eurylochus walked by his side, hand strategically placed near the handle of his broadsword, ready to protect his King from strangers with ill intent. 

It did not take long to make their way to the palace throne room. Given how small Ithaca was as a kingdom, it made sense for the royal palace to look smaller in comparison to neighboring palaces. 

However, even with the relatively small structure, both men shouldn’t have been able to hear commotion within the throne room from 4 halls ahead. This was an immediate indication to Odysseus of how many women were already vying for his kingdom. 

Once the two men stood close enough to the throne room’s closed doors they were able to hear the muffled voices from before much more clearly. 

“What’s the hold up!?”

“We’ve been waiting for hours!” 

“Why can’t we find the King ourselves?!” 

They all sounded feminine. And very annoyed. 

“Ladies, please!” A man's voice, Polites’, called out from the other side of the doors. “The King will arrive in just a moment! So, in the meantime, why don’t we all conduct ourselves in a polite, orderly fashion?” 

A chorus of exasperated groans; if there were any words spoken then they were undecipherable due to the sheer loudness of the crowd. 

Odysseus saw Eurylochus toss him a look, one that had “I told you so” written all over it. 

Nevertheless Odysseus let out a deep breath, praying to the Gods above that he looked much more confident than he felt. With a nod to the other, Eurylochus made his way to the double doors of the throne room. 

He threw the doors open, attracting the attention of every guest within the throne room. Welcome or otherwise.

Eurylochus’ booming voice could be heard from every corner of the large room:

“Presenting His Majesty, Odysseus, King of Ithaca!” 

Everyone within the throne room, friend, suitor, or guard, either kneeled or bowed at the sight of the luminous King of Ithaca. 

Odysseus paid them no mind. He opted to stare straight ahead, looking at nothing in particular. He sat on the left throne, despite royal customs declaring he sit on the right. The right seat belonged to Penelope and Penelope only. 

He would make sure every suitor in his palace remembered this. 

Meanwhile on the opposite side of the room, while Odysseus prepared to address the crowd, Polites was slowly inching his way to Eurylochus’ side. Eurylochus did not notice the younger approaching him, only realizing when Polites had placed a hand on his shoulder. 

Polites gestured to the third member of their friend group, mouthing a silent “Is he okay?”. 

Eurylochus blanked, unsure of how he should answer, before opting to shrug his shoulders; Not necessarily disagreeing but not entirely agreeing either. 

Polites understood. Odysseus was somehow both managing and not. 

Polites couldn’t help but grow somber. He could sympathize, but never fully understand. He will never fully understand the pain his best friends shared when it came to the misfortune caused to them by the Trojan war. 

Polites was one of the lucky few spared of permanent injury on that fateful battle 13 years ago. Any wounds and scars he attained had long since faded, their only proof of existence reduced to mere memory. Meanwhile, Odysseus and Eurylochus had sustained injuries that would affect them for the rest of their lives. 

Odysseus and Eurylochus were also victims to the whims of the Gods, for the divine ordered their wives to war in their stead. How must it feel, to know the love of your life was forced to act as your replacement simply because you allowed yourself to be moved by premature pride? 

Even though it was painful to Eurylochus, Polities knew it was pure agony to Odysseus. He had lost both his younger sister and wife due to a rash victory party… 

Odysseus suddenly shot his best friends a look, silently indicating to them that he was ready for his speech. 

Polites and Euylochus stood straight and gave him their undivided attention. They were ready to lend him their support, regardless of the difficult decision he made. 

“Greetings, my friends.”  

Odysseus took mental note of the amount of women littering his throne room. 32 in total, so far.

“I am delighted to see so many new, cordial faces in our humble kingdom on this day,” 

The suitors weren’t stupid. They all knew Odysseus did not mean a word of what he was saying. He was just spouting flowery nonsense for the sake of appearances. 

However, it mattered not what he felt. All that mattered was his submission to the expectations of Greek royalty.  

That included his remarriage. 

“Now, let’s not beat around the bush.” Odysseus gave everyone an easy, nonchalant smile. “You all want to know who I will take as my new Queen.” 

That threw everyone for a loop. 

Those who knew Odysseus, his guards, servants, and slaves, were surprised at how readily he addressed the issue he tried so desperately to avoid. 

The suitors, along with their guards, were also shocked that he was willing to address the issue without hesitation. Were the rumors about him and his loyalty to his wife all false? 

Polites and Eurylochus, who had known Odysseus for practically their entire lives, couldn’t help but feel a semblance of worry with his words. Odysseus was not one to just give up so easily, especially in matters concerning his heart. 

Just what was he planning? 

Odysseus, for his part, did not betray a single one of his thoughts with that easy smile of his. He stood still, waiting for the commotion to cease, before once again speaking to the crowd. 

Polites and Eurylochus, along with one mysterious suitor, were the only ones to notice the mischievous glint in the King’s eyes. 

“However, in respect of honoring the deceased, I regret to inform you all that I can no longer discuss the matter anytime soon.” 

“WHAT!?” 

A chorus of angry voices were quick to make themselves known at the end of his declaration. Two or four voices quickly became 31, each one demanding to know why he couldn’t choose a new wife right then and there. 

Again only one of them was silent, leaning against the side of the wall with her arms crossed. She watched the King with an intense stare. 

Odysseus raised a single hand, prompting the angry voices to silence themselves. 

“As I was saying…” The King’s smile dropped, replaced with an expression of stoicism. “I plan to honor and respect my wife in death as I did in life. And so, in her memory, I will carve a wooden statue in the form of the late Queen. This will be done carefully and with precision, achieved by my hands and my hands only.” 

Another chorus of annoyed and angered groans sounded from the women. They all knew it was bound to take a long time before the statue was even close to completed. 

Eurylochus and Polities were a mixed bag of reactions, one impressed with the cunning of his friend and the other filled to the brim with worry. They both knew Odysseus was talented in the art of carving; As a symbol of his long-standing love to Penelope, he had made her a bridal bed from the inside of a long-lasting tree. However, that was before his injury to his arm. How long would it take, to carve out a wooden statue that could rightfully honor the beauty and grace of Penelope of Ithaca, all with a bad shoulder, a kingdom to run, and a child to raise? 

It was the perfect plan. 

Odysseus had been scheming ever since he heard talk of his “inevitable” remarriage. The king knew he had to delay choosing a new wife, if not for his fidelity and loyalty to Penelope then for the sake of his daughter. 

Who knows what would happen to her if he remarries, for what Queen would allow the daughter of her predecessor to take the throne? 

No, he needed to be smart and tactical about this. He needed to use the gifts of quick-thinking and feeling calm under pressure bestowed to him by Athena. Telemachas was already 13, well on her way to 14. All he had to do was keep his suitors at bay for a few more years, until the Princess was deemed ready to be Queen. Then Telemachas would be allowed to ascend to the throne without any complaints from his adversaries. 

This statue was the perfect excuse. He will spend as much time as he needed carving it, forever if he had to. 

He could do this. He will find a way. For himself. For Telemachas. For Penelope. 

~

Odysseus was so caught up in his thoughts he didn’t notice how one of his suitors was looking at him. She stared at him quietly, intensely, glaring at him from the moment he walked into the throne room. 

She couldn’t look away from his body. His tanned, toned, delicious body. She noticed the way Odysseus’ chiton stuck to his waist, showing off his firm, fit figure. 

When he lifted his hand to silence the crowd, the fabric of his clothing was forced to rise up; his naked body, only briefly displayed, was shown to anyone standing at a certain angle. She was the one lucky enough to stand at this angle. 

She could see his torso from where she stood. She saw his v-line fade into his abdomen, some single stray beads of sweat drip down in that path. She saw a set of prominent abs, mild but still very much there, that shuddered with each breath he took. And finally, before he lowered his arm and his torso was covered once more, she was able to see his pectorals in full view. They were flat, but still round; oh, what must it feel like to take a bite of that flesh, to watch as the man underneath was fully marked and claimed?

There was no doubt about it. He was beautiful. He was perfect. 

He was hers. 

Based on what he just declared, accompanied by rumors circulating the palace, it appeared that he planned to make his remarriage a difficult process for his suitors. 

That was fine.

She can be patient. 

No matter how long it took she’d find a way to force him to accept her, even if she had to hold him down and take him by force.

After all, she was blessed by Zeus himself. Though not his child, and by definition having no divine blood, one would be forgiven for assuming differently based on her ability to look forever young despite her age. The King of Gods gave her this gift, saying he knew her to be a kindred spirit. 

The point was anything and everything she ever wanted would belong to her.  

Ithaca. 

The Right Throne. 

Odysseus.

No matter what it took, no matter what she had to do, one day all of it will bear her name. 

Calypso.

[joltai-showa]

Exhausting day, so let's yap about something fun.

I've seen a post floating around that went something like "imagine Naruto releasing now, Akatsuki gang would be called woke" and I wanna take this concept another step further and talk about how generally these S-rank criminals are surprisingly tolerating of each other.

(though side point nothing will ever help these men and Konan beat the fruity friend group allegations, like they are wearing matching coats that are TERRIBLY impractical when you are working as, you know, a fucking ASSASSIN. and the nail polish? can anybody explain how that idea came about? like, I guess it's not surprising that members like Konan and Deidara aka Ms. and Mr. Insane Make Up Game of the Terrorist World would paint their nails, but why is Nagato sitting Pain's bodies down for a manicure? The local 195 cm tall fishman agreeing to a pedicure? Why the fuck is Uchiha "killing readers with boredom that I evoke with my 13 hour long yapping about despair and hopelessness" Obito still doing his pedicure in KAGE SUMMIT ARC? BRO, LET GO OF THEM, YOUR BESTIES AREN'T COMING BACK, YOU SENT THEM ALL TO THEIR DEATHS, YOU PIECE OF SHIT, EVERYONE IS 15 SECONDS AWAY FROM MURDERING EACH OTHER, WHY ARE YOU PAINTING THE NAILS ON THE ARM YOU ARE ABOUT TO ATTACH??? omg🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄)

Because I am a lore nerd, I am completely fascinated by the sheer difference between the members. And I speak both of the age and the geographic differences, which, realistically, should create some absolutely wild scenarios between the members.

So let's start by separating the gang by age, because they've actually got three pretty definitive clusters in their group when we look at them from that particular parameter.

Kakuzu is in his own subgroup, being *checks notes* jesus christ 91. Kakuzu is actually older than the village system itself (Kishimoto can't count, so it was either founded 60 or 80 years before the events of Shippuden, and either way Kakuzu spawned in this world on hardcore difficulty way before the clans in Land of Fire decided to stop terrorizing each other and chose to terrorize everyone around them). Mind you, the characters from the major Hidden Villages that were constantly joked about as being these ancient fossils and those who have seen the dawn of fucking civilizations were people like Chiyo (73 years old in Shippuden) and Onoki (79 years old). And. Like. Shinobi generally don't live that long even in the villages where they can live in relative protection and have an opportunity for retirement. Kakuzu's out there collecting his retirement fund from any unlucky motherfucker who gets his face plastered into a Bingo book or something. And he was probably doing that even before becoming a member of Akatsuki. Which. Lmao.

And considering the fact that he was in some sort of fighting age whenever fucking Hashirama was still alive, Akatsuki's old man is likely actually written in the history books that they read in the hidden villages (do kids even learn how to read? I'm pretty sure the villages value kunai throwing more than reading huh). Or at least in the history books of nukenins. Wait, scratch that, he is probably one of the people who is the reason behind a lot of the operating procedures that the villages have whenever you got a deserter or a general terrorist running through you territory. What I'm saying is, the guys from the major villages (meaning Sasori, Deidara, Obito, Kisame and Itachi) have probably known of Kakuzu just off the stories they read in the Academy/heard from older shinobi. I'm not mentioning the guys from minor villages because I am not giving them enough benefit of the doubt to have something like a decent system of education or ninja living past 30😁. I imagine that must be quite the bizarre experience to abandon your village, become a nukenin and meet the OG guy. Like, as OG as they get.

And one last thing I wanted to point out before moving onto the next generation of our fruity terrorist is how weird it must have been for Deidara to meet Kakuzu for the first time? I don't mention the other two from Akatsuki's kids aka Hidan about whom we don't know much about and Itachi who's relationship with old men in his life can be summarized by "they exploit me, I try to get the best things out of this🙂", but Deidara, being Onoki's student, in canon is shown to constantly refer to him as "old man" in various degrees of insultingness (insert a meme about 18 year old Kurotsuchi's broke "maybe you should retire, old man" vs 10 year old Deidara's woke "KILL YOURSELF OLD MAN" *some bridge in Iwa fucking explodes*) and like. He's like 13. And gets to meet Kakuzu. Who is like 85 at the time. Just imagine the experience that Deidara got. He's been hating the old man as long as he remembers, and then gets to meet THAT. Local teenager meets an actual dinosaur moment.

So know we get to the second generational group and it's by far the biggest one in this pretty small organization, and I like to title them "the ones that were born some time around the Second Shinobi World War and got completely fucked over by the Third one😁". This group, obviously, includes Konan and Nagato (both 40 in Shippuden), Sasori (35), Kisame (32) and Obito (yeah yeah I remember that he's been stated to be like 31, but for timeline purposes I prefer to have him at around 30, because otherwise like twenty events get funky). The Second Shinobi World War can only be approximately estimated, but given what little is known of about the characters involved in it, Ame orphans' year of birth is a pretty good estimate of a starting point for shit starting to go down, while Konoha suddenly started having a lot of kids right around the time of Kakashi's generation, meaning that their parents suddenly started having a lot of time to procreate and did not have to run across the border to beat shit out of someone else🤭Either that, or Konoha got the money to pay the shinobi for every kid they manage to pop in the next five years lol.

Anyway, the Third war followed pretty soon (around 18 years after Ame trio's birth, actually), and we certainly know that Obito got pulled into it (because of the, you know, the successful pancake challenge) with Konan and Nagato too, but on Ame's side (the Third War would actually be the best and prime time for the original Akatsuki led by Yahiko to operate, as they would be both old enough to organize something and be strong enough to maneuver between Hanzo and the external enemies aka Konoha, Iwa and Suna). With Sasori it isn't exactly confirmed straight away, but considering that his nickname is "Scorpion of Red SANDS", and when you are a nukenin why would you stay in the desert where there's a lot of sand it's coarse and it gets everywhere in your puppets (c), so most likely Sasori would have gotten this nickname while he was still living in the village, and mind you he was 15 when he left the village with the dead Third Kazekage in tow, all of which would have taken place right around the middle of the Third War, so it isn't much of a stretch to assume that he got a good chunk of murder experience during it.

Kisame is a weird one, because we don't know anything about his life until he's like, adultish? At least that's the vibe I'm getting off his pre-death memories, which are obviously way past the Third Shinobi World War, however, thankfully, Kishimoto can't fucking count, so we have a pretty decent confirmation that this wonderful thing called the Blood Mist would already be in place come Kisame's childhood and youth (regardless of how much Kishimoto repeats the Blood Mist = Fourth Mizukage = the mysterious entity controlling Yagura = the one and only Uchiha Obito. unless, of course, there's a Kamui+ subscription that Obito had when he was younger that allowed him to teleport back in time too, exclusively to be a bigger fucking bitch to everyone). I can't remember the exact calcs, but it's actually thanks to Mei (the Fifth Mizukage) that has a mention that she had to take the wonderful murder exam as a genin, and based off Mei's and Kisame's ages it actually becomes clear that Kisame would have had to graduate from Academy right around the time of Mei's exam or they were literally taking the same exam, something like that. Point being, even if we don't know for sure that Kisame took part in the TSWW, but we do know that he has had to deal with all of that mess related to growing up in Blood Mist🙂🙂🙂🙂So I guess we can call this generation "were born during the SSWW, most got royally fucked over by TSWW, but some of them also got fucked over by Blood Mist".

So these guys, I would say, can be characterised by them having a certain period of peace and purpose in their lifes that they ultimately lost during the subsequent wars, oftentimes suddenly, leaving them with psychological traumas for the rest of their lives that they WOULD make everyone's problem, so what ends up happening is a generation of deluloids that are running around with their grand plans of fixing the world or finding the ideal form of themselves. Ironically, I would say that Nagato and Konan have the most... er... realistic ideas regarding the whole "fixing" thing that others in their generation seem to have. Yes, the guys who say they are a God and an Angel. Because selective nuclear annihilation is a surprisingly effective way to dissuade most people from starting shit with each other😇🙏

Then we have Obito and Kisame both of whom worked for the whole Eye of the Moon thing... I'm not even gonna go in detail about it, it's just so fucking stupid. You listen to it one time and it really becomes apparent that this shit was concocted by a crazy old man with his ex's face on his tiddy and his dead little brother's eyes in his eye sockets that was living in a dank cave for about 50 years all alone. I mean, Obito got brain damage from going on a field trip to Kannabi bridge, I'm not surprised he though that was a good idea, but Kisame has no excuses, yeah, I know you've lived a horrible life that you took as a norm and suddenly all those deaths that you witnessed and contributed to turned out to be completely meaningless, just like pretty much your entire life, but that's not an excuse to listen to this masked dude's yapping about making a PowerPoint Presentation of his Sharingan on the surface of the fucking moon and go "Woah...😳🤩"

And finally we have Sasori, who's less bothered by doing the whole changing the world thing and moreso got his own idea of what an absolute ideal form is supposed to be, and he is going full murder hobo achieving it in his immediate surrondings. And it all stems from that time when his parents died after meeting Hatake Sakumo. Ah, speaking of that.

So back to the original topic of this post as in Akatsuki members are surprisingly chill with each other, regardless of the circumstances of their previous lives? Well, there's a thing with these guys that Kakuzu wouldn't have - a sort of developed sense of loyalty to the village and animosity or coldness to people from the enemy villages. Again, Kakuzu is older than the village system itself, and he would have left pretty early on (considering the whole fiasco seemed to have stemmed from that attempt on Hashirama's life, and Hashirama couldn't have lived past 20-25 years after Konoha's foundation), so he doesn't care for any of that, a guy with a bouty on his head goes into the retirement fund regardless of what headband he's wearing. But for kids that grew up in this system I think it would be at times pretty jarring to suddenly sit on the work meetings with someone they would have considered their mortal enemy just some years ago.

We don't know much about with whom in particular Sasori and Kisame were fighting while in the villages, but taking a look at the geography... I mean, Suna might have been going at it with both Iwa and Konoha lol? Imagine Pain asking Sasori what does he know of Iwa ninja, Sasori goes on to list all the squads he murder and dismembered back in the good old Third War days and then the boss hits him with "Yeah, yeah, anyway, we are getting you a new partner. It's a child from Iwa. He's now yours. Raise him and don't let him kill himself before he turns 18."

Or just Kisame and Sasori generally dealing with the existence of Konoha lmao? Obito's obviously not piping up about his origins, but I like the idea of Itachi getting interrogated on what he knows about Kakashi in particular (who is the son of the guy who killed Sasori's parents. and granny Chiyo went for his throat on fucking sight. not to mention her mass murdering grandsonny).

"Itachi, do you know this Hatake guy?"

"Er, yes, we served in ANBU together?.."

"Good. Tell me where he lives, at what time does he go to bed, what he eats for breakfast and how is he with his Sharingan."

Or just chatting with Kisame and the topic of Kakashi pops up

"Oh, I would love to fight him one day. Is he really that bloodthirsty and insane as they say?"

"Er, no, what gives?"

"He has been in Kirigakure's Bingo Book for years! Oh, and there was this one time when he massacred an entire squad on his own, ripping guts and all. Come to think of it, that was also about the time when we lost one of our biju. What a weird coincidence, huh."

"Oh yeah, I think I know that one. That was about the time when one of his teammates died too. What a weird coincidence, huh."

(somewhere in the corner Obito is furiously chewing on the wall)

Because Kishimoto is such an incredible writer that gives only his best when it comes to Obito, especially when he needs to write the conflict and relationships for a 30 year old guy and comes up with nothing but shit that concerned him when he was 14😁😁😁😁😁so he's stuck with nothing interesting for his entire Akatsuki life period, but I still think it's pretty funny that of all the people Obito could have gotten partnered with it had to be the only guy from the village that freed him of the burden of having a right side of the body🙏

But I think by far the most interesting ones would be Konan and Nagato as people of Amegakure, a village, as you remember, that kept getting run over by the major powers surronding it, I believe that in Nagato's flashbacks we even get the confirmation of the conflicts that Nagato personally had with Konoha and Iwa ninja (one for his parents' murder and another whenever Yahiko got in trouble as a kid). To them as part of the original militia Akatsuki the shinobi of the major villages (Iwa, Konoha, Suna in particular) are invaders and pretty much just enemies. But then obviously "Madara" pulls up and starts Uchihasplaining them how the world is wrong (duh) and how they must fix it. Obviously, following the change in management of the organization, they had to recruit new members, and while the official materials don't really have anything regarding this process (no, the videogames/light novels/whatever other bullshit produced by people not called Kishimoto Masashi don't count), I believe it's reasonable to assume that Obito, Nagato and Konan would at least sit down and chat about who they are bringing on their world-fixing-terroristic tour. And like. It must have been quite the experience to just sit there with this guy (who's supposedly one of the founders of the entire system they are currently living in) and get a bunch of candidates that they are supposed to invite even if just some time ago they would have been their enemies lol.

(and to be fair out of all the people that they have from the above mentioned villages two of them (Itachi and Deidara) were like 5 and 3 years old at the time Yahiko got killed, not to mention the whole TSWW, so I guess it would have been more weird to watch "Madara" turn their organization into a daycare rather than watch their headbands. but Sasori absolutely could have been to Ame back in his Suna days during the Third War. though again the nickname suggest that he was likely fighting a defensive war)

And, finally, we got what I like to call the kids generation meaning Hidan, Itachi and Deidara, all three of whom were born during the Third Shinobi World War, and, well, let's just that the defining feature of this group is just mental illness. Like, yeah, everyone's not okay in Akatsuki, but these guys? Fucked over since, like, toddlerhood. At least based on what limited information we have on them, with Itachi's extensive biography throught the plot it's obvious, Deidara was taken in at about the same age as Itachi did and was already on his manic pixie boy yapping about art with a "resume" so long that people three times his age would have trouble competing with the bullshit this young teenager already did. Hidan's the only one of three who was taken in as an adult, but... yeah... the whole cult and mass murder thing probably says nothing good about his childhood.

And just imagine being this young nukenin, only starting to become infamous for your crimes, and then you get dragged to join the organization with some of the strongest terrorists in modern shinobi history. I like to imagine there was this tiny sense of giddiness at achieving something like that? Like whenever a kid gets to do adult things, and there these guys are, on the same level as big shots. Well, at least for Deidara and Hidan, Itachi's too depressed and thinking of his foolish little brother. He can at least be happy that he's got the chillest guy as his partner.

(and on the other hand you got the rest of Akatsuki members confused why the fuck did the Leader get two 13 year olds in quick succession. like. yeah they good at mass murder but do we really have to raise them? is having ninja zoomers on the staff that important for the world domination plan?)

[tetsunabouquet]

Attack On Titan: Babydaddy Headcanons

A/N: This is just me thinking about how many they'd have, the gender and how they would raise them, etc.

Levi

-This man is a girl dad in the sense he only had one child and its a daughter. -It was a conscious decision. Whilst he loves you and would never deny you the joy of a child if you wanted to be a mom, he's also a man that lives a life of danger. Even if he's humanity's soldier, he has enough emotional awareness to know there are times where you or your daughter will worry and he wants to keep the number of people worried about him as low as possible. -He's not overprotective because she's an Ackerman but if someone even thinks of laying a hand on his daughter he'd chop their fingers off before they even reach her scalp. -As soon as she's old enough to fight, Levi will train her just like Kenny taught him because he knows the world is that cruel. However, any titan she interacts with until she's actually old enough to be a soldier will be none except for Hange's test subjects so she can see the danger she might choose with her own eyes to make an informed decision. -A secret reason he also shows her Hange's test subjects is that he wants to provide her with an example how not to interact with titans in Hange.

Eren

-Was a girl dad until his final kid popped out as a boy. -Armin pointed out the funny coincidence of his family unit being inverse to his own childhood; considering Grisha used to be a boy dad until adopting Mikasa. -Low-key looked good whenever his daughters would do his hair. Sometimes you wonder if looking like Carla is why Eren looks good with the sloppy feminine hairstyles. -He doesn't loves his son any less though. If anything, the way his daughters act towards him reminds him of how Mikasa used to treat him so whenever his son feels smothered, he understands his son and has his back. -In this scenario, his titan form obviously doesn't come with the 13 year curse limitations so he's somewhat worse as Levi when it comes to harming his kids. Because Eren would just squash them like bugs in his titan form.

Zeke

-Only becomes a father because he got drunk with you, who he already felt conflicted about loving. So like Levi, he makes the conscious decision to keep it at that one kid. -I do think Zeke would have a boy though. -He would play baseball with his son every day and try to be the father Ksaver was to him. -Zeke's plans to euthanize the Subjects of Ymir morphs into a plan to mutate all Subjects of Ymir into the same condition as the Ackerman clan and destroy the titan ability itself which would leave him as the final inheritor of the Beast Titan (speaking of which I might someday make a post with all the alternatives to the Rumbling that Isayama couldn't think of when he wrote himself into a corner) -Because of his negative experience with education and indoctrination, Zeke actually is an advocate for unschooling to a certain extent. He will teach his kid to read, write and basics but he's not fond of certain subjects like history because its in their world just filled with propoganda that Zeke is tired of.

Reiner

-Was very insecure about becoming a dad considering his own was happily a deadbeat but once he started having kids he couldn't stop at one so he had 4 kids. -Has two boys and two girls. -Because he was raised by a single mom, he works extra hard to be a good husband and father not just for the sake of the kids or his love for them. No, its also out of his devotion to you and not wanting you to know the hardships his mother faced in the slightest. -The sort of father who proudly displays the artwork of his children around his Vice Chief office at the Marleyan governmental building. -Teaches his sons to be better men and not make the mistakes he did as he teaches his daughters not to allow men to use them for their bodies in the way his mother was used and discarded. The way he goes about their gender roles and preparing them for life can be quite feminist for the time period AOT is set in but due to his upbringing and knowing so many powerful women, it shaped him quite a bit.

Armin

-A boy and a girl -Armin really wanted a mini you so when your first was a boy, he tried again and got what he wanted. -Not that he doesn't loves his son though, and thinks he's way cuter then he ever was as a child, which he reasons is your genetic makeup's doing. -Touch his children and he will find a way to poison you. He's way more clever and sneaky when it comes to taking revenge compared to Levi and Eren. -Similar to Reiner, he eats up anything his kids make and finds the most horrible drawings of a cat to be the best amazing artwork ever.

Erwin

-Just like Levi, being part of the scouts made him restrict himself to one child. -However, unlike Levi, he has a harder time as your child tempts him into wanting more of them as he loves seeing the union of yours and his features. -It's a boy -Hange often teases you and Erwin that he and Historia's daughter might become an item as they grew up together as babes of the Scouts regiment. -Has a habit of dropping asleep right next to his son after he's come home after a long day of titan slaying and reports about it.

[princessanonymous]

When Night Comes

Platonic Yandere Vampire

Previous Part | Next Part

First Chapter

Trigger Warning: A bit of gore and death

13. 𝓒𝓻𝓲𝓶𝓼𝓸𝓷 𝓟𝓾𝓷𝓲𝓼𝓱𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽

A soft knock echoed through the room, yet it was met with a disheartening silence. Undeterred, he entered, his presence a commanding force in the quiet space. "You cannot confine yourself in your room all night," the vampire declared with stern authority, a hint of frustration lingering in his tone. 

She responded only by rolling in her bed, seeking refuge under the covers. He tried to ignore how this reaction crushed a small part within him. 

"Tell me," he pressed on, "what did you expect to get out of this? Did you wish to die in the cold?"

His mind revisited the events of three nights ago. She had almost died. That was the cold harsh truth. It was sickening, horrifying even. It had terrified him in a way he hadn’t expected. Scenarios of what could have happened made dread gawk at his inside. The fact was that he had been lucky to find her, Dorian could have tried searching for her in the opposite direction. She would have been attacked and there would have been no one to protect her from that vermin. After bringing her back, he had remained by her side all day as she slept, the events of the night having left her completely drained of any energy. He had listened as she let out soft expirations, as her mortal heart beated and watched as her chest slowly rose and fell. 

So weak…

Her existence was so ephemeral.

That night, as these thoughts had crossed his mind, Dorian had inched closer to her neck. He could fix this. He could make her better and everlasting; eternal. His daughter – his sweet doll – could forever remain safe and unaltered by time. But he didn’t. He couldn’t turn her at this instant, no matter how much he wished to. It was forbidden to do so to a child her age. He had to wait.

Tonight, as he stepped into her room, he wanted to tell her that, had he not been there to save her, she might have met an untimely demise. That this was the reason why she hadn't been allowed to go out. Yet, the words remained trapped in his mouth, sealed between his lips.

Resigned to the persistent silence, he seated himself on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixed on her form cocooned beneath the covers. "It didn't hurt you. It is gone now," he spoke with a gentler cadence, seeking to comfort. 

Dorian liked when the child was calm and well behaved, but this depressing silence was not what he had wished for. Her response was an unyielding silence, prompting him to rise with a sense of resignation.

"What," she started with a scratchy voice, breaking the silence, "was that ?"

He halted, turning back to her with a glimmer of hope at the sound of her voice. "What do you mean, starshine?" he inquired, his tone inviting conversation and relieved that she was willing to engage.

"The monster," she whispered, a tremor of fear evident in her voice.

He sighed, grappling with the decision of whether to disclose the truth. Eventually, he settled back down, choosing to take advantage of her sudden willingness to speak. Refusing to answer would only make her retreat into her shell once again.

"To complete the process of turning a person into a vampire, that person must drink the blood of the vampire that bit them. A Sanguini, the thing you saw, is what results if that last step isn't taken. Slowly, these creatures turn into ravenous beasts, going mad with bloodlust. They aren't vampires, but rather something far more disgraceful and pathetic. The shame of our world."

Silence persisted as she absorbed this revelation. The vampire lifted the covers, unveiling her tear-streaked face. His fingers traced the contours of her cheek as he admitted, "I feared for your safety," his voice betraying a hint of vulnerability, emotions surfacing against his intentions.

She turned her back to him. "I want my mum," she mumbled.

His hands clenched involuntarily, resentment tinged with regret at how even in death, the woman retained significance for the girl. "I am here," he declared, the unspoken words ‘And she isn't’ hanging in the air.

Her response was silence. "You have me," he asserted more firmly, his fingers gently threading through her hair. "And you need me," he added, a subtle plea beneath his words. She needed him. Just as much as he needed her.

⊱ ────── {⋆☾⋆} ────── ⊰

The atmosphere hung heavy with a somber hush, disrupted occasionally by the clatter of utensils against porcelain as she quietly partook in her meal. Her eyes would intermittently dart toward the vampire sharing the table, yet they swiftly retreated back to the contents of her plate. It marked their first shared dinner since the harrowing incident a week ago. As she cautiously chewed her food, the unspoken tension in the air lingered. Did the vampire across from her anticipate a gesture of thanks? Did he expect acknowledgement for his actions, or was he simply indifferent to her feelings? Gratitude, however, was a complex sentiment to navigate when mixed with the knowledge that he was also the perpetrator of her parents' death.

Leaving during the cold winter night had been reckless, even perilous. The storm's cruel embrace had slowed her journey, and she found herself fortunate to have escaped the clutches of the biting cold. The storm had slowed her down and she was lucky she hadn't died from the cold… or that awful beast. She finished her meal in silence, rising without uttering a word. As she moved to leave, he halted her with an unexpected announcement.

"I have something for you."

With a subtle yet firm touch, the vampire guided her towards the door of the basement, a realm she had yet to explore. There was an air of mystery about the descent into the lower levels, an uncharted territory that piqued her curiosity. Descending the stairs, she couldn't help but notice a serene smile gracing the duke's face, adding an enigmatic layer to the unfolding scenario. 

The pathway, illuminated by the flickering light of torches lining the walls, exuded an eerie chill that seemed to cling to the air. As (Y/n) and the vampire continued their exploration, a distant door loomed at the far end of the corridor shrouded in shadows. However, they never reached it. The journey paused at a second door.

The first thing that came to her was the putrid smell. Next, was the figure slumped against the wall opposite to her. The duke widened the door, ushering light into the room.

She recoiled, a futile hand pressed against her mouth, but the horrified scream still erupted. Mary, the servant who had unwittingly aided her escape, lay there. (Y/n)'s eyes collided with vacant sockets. The girl slumped in the corner, bathed in blood. (Y/n)'s gaze trailed down her face, fixing on the throat. A crimson grin seemed to mock her. The slash across her throat emanated more life than her lifeless, gaping mouth.

One arm and one leg were bent at awkward angles as though she was a marionette that had been carelessly dropped. The remaining limbs lay a few meters away, severed from the rest. Entrails spilled unceremoniously on the floor.

(Y/n) crumpled to her knees, legs weakened. The world around her blurred as waves of anguish crashed over her, threatening to engulf every ounce of composure she possessed. In the midst of her torment, she unleashed a guttural scream of pain and despair that echoed through the emptiness around her. Tears streamed down her face as uncontrollable sobs wracked her body.

Two hands steadied her shoulders. "Take this as a warning," he declared, the words carrying a weight that extended beyond their immediate meaning. His grip on her shoulders tightened, the pressure a physical manifestation of the gravity of his words. "Actions have consequences, my dear."

The vampire leaned closer until his lips almost touched the girl's ear. His voice, low and intense, carried a chilling warning. "Don't you dare try to leave again," he hissed, the words spoken with a sense of finality. The proximity of his threat sent shivers down her spine. “I will find you. I will always find you. And everyone involved will have to pay for your foolishness," he affirmed, the weight of those words emphasizing an unwavering determination

He rose, leaving her sobbing in the wake of his departure, the door closing behind him.

(Y/n) clutched her chest, sobbing harder. This was her fault. She had brought this upon a poor girl who had done nothing wrong. And here she was now; forced to confront the consequences of her actions. She wept until no more tears flowed, until her voice became too hoarse to continue.

[thefandomenchantress]

(Sorry for not just answering this in the comments, I had a feeling I was gonna go over the word limit (I was correct haha) and figured maybe I should just make a post about it).

Spoilers for Chapter Two Episode 13!

I'll be honest...I am very scared for Ace right now. A lot of his trial behavior is kinda suspicious if you squint, but then again, he's Ace, so he's always going to be hastily throwing around suspicion and be generally incompetent when it comes to solving the murder. And after watching all of chapter two...I just can't accept that it's him.

Now, it's fair to say that's just favoritism on my part. After all, I'm willingly to make a lot of stretches to keep on believing in my Eden's The Culprit agenda. And...Yeah, true, you are kinda right. Even if I was in a scenario where I couldn't find a single objective reason for him not to be the culprit, I still wouldn't be able to accept it was him until he was executed.

But I can't help but think I do have at least a little evidence to prove Ace isn't the culprit.

I actually made a post a while back about the Ace culprit theory, and how I don't think it works. And I'm going to reiterate a point I made there, since I'm not sure if I conveyed what I meant all that clearly.

This is about the tape.

Yes, yes, I know. Everything's about the tape these days, but I still think it's important!! After all, the grippy tape was used in the murder mechanism, and disappeared while only Ace, Eden, and Teruko were in the room. Meaning one of them has to be the one connected to the murder, (meaning they are at the very least an accomplice).

Teruko and Eden both technically could've taken it, Eden much more so than Teruko, but this isn't about them, so I'll skip that. I'm sure you've heard stuff about that before somewhere, anyhow.

Let's get to the main point:

Could Ace have taken the tape?

Okay, okay, fine, real answer time. In my opinion? It doesn't make much sense to me. After all, if Ace took the tape, we have two options:

Ace was planning to murder someone and already had a plan in mind when he took the tape, knowing he'd need it for a mechanism.

Ace didn't have a plan in mind and wanted to murder Nico when he took the tape.

Now, let's take those one at a time so I can tell you why I don't buy them.

Let's start with option one.

Ace knew he was going to murder someone with the tape down the line and took it.

Now, let's put this into perspective for a moment. Ace is actively being murdered. Even if we assume that Nico is not the true person behind Ace's almost-death, we can assume that someone was cutting Ace's neck open before this. And if Ace was conscious, he wouldn't wait for them or anyone else who can take advantage of his weakened state to come back. So Ace must be unconscious at least until Teruko and Eden make Nico run away.

That means the only time Ace can be having even sort of coherent thoughts is in the minute or so Teruko is investigating his body. He is actively bleeding out, someone just tried to murder him, and everything has gone to shit. On top of it all, he's a character who's usually rather impulsive.

And in order for him to have known he'd need the tape for his new murder plan, he'd need to have thought of a whole murder mechanism scheme while under those conditions. Seems a little iffy, but let's assume, for the sake of this post, he's secretly a murder-plan-making genius! So of course he easily thought of that entire extremely complex murder plan that far in advance!

That means Ace has a plan when he manages to get the strength to stand up. He knows he needs the tape, so he grabs it, while knocking Eden over and shouting in hopes it will distract them enough to not notice he took it (Let's also ignore that Teruko is watching him this whole time and probably would've noticed him taking it). He then pretends he's going to go kill Nico immediately, while secretly plotting to kill them or someone else in the future.

But if Ace isn't planning to murder Nico immediately like he says, then why is he so insistent on it? Non-culprit!Ace readings make this easily understandable; Ace's emotions are running high from the murder attempt and he's running off to find Nico because he's angry and thinks they tried to kill him. However, if Ace doesn't actually want to kill Nico, why does he bother putting on such a big act pretending he does?

If this is an act, color me impressed. Ace has, in the past, shown himself to be a pretty terrible liar who is also not very good at keeping secrets. So him being able to pull this off while bleeding out...Yeah, he definitely deserves an Oscar, haha. Because he really sells it. He's banging on Nico's door, yelling in a very aggressive and convincing manner, and tells Levi he is going to murder Nico almost nonchalantly. If this scene was later revealed to all be an elaborate 4D-chess move by Ace, I would be super surprised.

And none of it is even that necessary if it is an act. Ace could've stomped out of the room without telling them he was going to kill Nico if he wanted to, it's not like it was necessary for his plan. After all, if he was planning a murder, why would he purposely prove that he would be willingly to commit one? It's way better to play into his scaredy-cat tendencies here, instead, if he's trying not to gain suspicion. Like, imagine:

Eden: O-oh my god! Ace, are you alright?!? Y-you're bleeding a lot, let's go to the infirma--

Ace: Get the fuck away from me! I'm not trusting any of you fuckers to get anywhere near me! I was totally right to not trust any of you in the first place, you're all gonna try some shit like this eventually! You probably think that now's the perfect time to strangle me while pretending to help, huh?! Well, too bad! I can do it myself.

(Cue Ace getting the fuck out of there before they can realize he took the tape).

I mean, why would he possibly think that pretending he's going to murder Nico while secretly planning another murder is a good idea?! Even if people don't connect the tape to him, they're going to think that he's completely capable of an act like that if he's desperate enough. If he hadn't done this, his classmates might've kept on thinking he was too much of a scaredy-cat to seriously consider hurting anyone, which would help his chances of winning the trial.

You could say he did it to disguise the fact that he had a plan to murder someone later. No one would suspect that he was planning to murder someone later if he pretended to try to murder someone now. But no one was accusing him of plotting anything in the first place? So I really don't see how it's necessary. Better to play it safe than to risk actually running into Nico when he doesn't actually plan to harm them. His little charade can only go so far. The only way this even sort of benefits him is if in the trial, people say maybe he was plotting something, and he can refute with his reckless behavior here. But, uh...Would it really be realistic to say Ace, of all people, thought that far ahead and meticulously planned out every detail in the mere moments he woke up from the turpentine? I don't know, seems like a little bit of a stretch to me.

Let's remind ourselves that, in this scenario, Ace is most likely scared for his life. He is scared someone else is going to murder him now that Nico tried, and that is why he is planning a murder now. In that case, I think the most important thing is that Ace's primary emotion is that moment is fear. Which he doesn't have a very good track record of hiding. When Ace is scared, you will know. So if Ace was scared and planning a murder in result during that moment, I don't think he'd have masked it as well as he did. Ace doesn't seem scared, just angry. Because he hates that, in his eyes, Nico was able to make him vulnerable like this.

I just...Don't think the dialog of Ace in the hallway scene after his almost-death would work as well if he was secretly not trying to murder Nico and only refusing help from the others because he was planning a different murder, and not because of his own character flaws. None of his lines seem disingenuous in the slightest to me. Which is weird, considering all the other times Ace has lied, it's pretty easy to tell.

In short, I simply don't understand why Ace would do the things he did if he was just secretly planning to murder someone. To me, his behavior makes much more sense if he's actually blinded by rage instead of secretly planning something super smart and complex.

...Alright, let's move on to scenario two.

Ace was actually planning to murder Nico when he took the tape, but plans change, and he uses the tape for murdering Arei instead.

Unsurprisingly, I don't buy this either.

If Ace really did plan to murder Nico in this moment and was admitting it full-heartedly, with no qualms about getting caught, why would he hide that he took the tape? He tells Levi he's going to murder Nico upfront, so obviously he doesn't care that they know what he's doing.

In that case, he wouldn't have stealthily picked up the tape while Teruko wasn't looking and put it in his pocket immediately (Both of Ace's hands are seen in his sprites, so it's not like he was just holding it in his hand, if he did take the tape he took it as quickly and unnoticeably as possible, hid it somewhere on his person, then didn't mention it).

If he's planning to murder Nico and hasn't thought about what happens afterwards, or knows he will be executed and still doesn't care, then it's not like he has anything he's going to do with the tape after he murders Nico. Meaning the only reason he would take it, is if it had something to do with murdering Nico.

And in that case, Ace doesn't care about how much the others know when it comes to how he does the murder. So he wouldn't be shy about admitting he was going to use the tape to uh...Idk, strangle Nico? Or restrain them? I don't even really know how he would use only grippy tape to murder them anyways. It's not like he'd use it to put over their mouth to keep them quiet, he's shouting threats to them in the middle of the hallway for everyone to hear. He could not give less of a fuck about who knows Nico is in danger.

Ace has literally no reason to be secretive about taking the tape in this scenario. The only way it would work is if Teruko and Eden just so happened to not notice even though Ace wasn't bothering to be subtle, which is...Kinda weird, since Teruko's usually pretty damn observant.

Plus, Ace has a lot of blood on his hands during the gym waking-up scene, but maybe he managed to get the tape in his pocket before any blood could get on it? Since there wasn't as much on his hands before he woke up? Idk, possibly still notable.

To summarize this whole section a bit, if Ace was planning to murder Nico when he took the tape, he'd have little reason to take it and no reason to take it sneakily. If he was secretly planning another murder, it's hard to justify why he pretends he wants to murder Nico in the first place, or how he even thought up his murder plan so quickly and under such intense circumstances. And since Teruko was presumably looking at Ace the whole time, Ace would have a hard time even picking up the tape in the first place without Teruko noticing.

(I've also seen people say that if Teruko and Ace can't 100% confirm each other's witness testimony about the other not taking it while Eden was on the ground, you can't really prove who took it in the trial).

...So that's it with the tape, I think. All in all, I don't think Ace taking it makes much sense, or at least not as much sense as Eden does.

That's my main reason for being doubtful of Ace being the culprit, but I guess there's maybe some other things I could mention...

Ace is supposed to be the Mondo of the Chihiro-Mondo = Nico-Ace murder situation.

This can be seen by how the almost-murder takes place in the gym, and how Ace is the one who wants to be strong despite feeling deep down that he is weak. He's also the one who is afraid of getting hit by cars, and the one who's friend mysteriously died...

Yeah, I'm willing to bet Ace's friend being dead and Ace weirdly mentioning being afraid of cars hitting him in chapter 1 probably means his friend met a similar fate to Mondo's brother. Except without all the biker gang stuff, haha.

Which, uh, isn't good if we're trying to make Ace not the culprit, since that secret was one of the major reasons Mondo killed and all that. And I was worried about that...Until Ace just sorta brought Taylor up unprompted in the middle of trial. Like, if that was a big, personal, secret reason for why he murdered Arei, not sure why he would just randomly bring it up now when the DRDTdev could just--Have him talk about it later, when he's the culprit. And if we assume Ace thought that Taylor dying was his secret and killed so that secret wouldn't get out, then that wouldn't make sense, since Ace brings it up in conversation without hesitating. Even Ace wouldn't kill for a secret and then blab about it only a day later. So I doubt Taylor's death is going to play any sort of role in Ace's motive to murder.

(Unlike Eden, who's secret does include someone she was close to and probably regrets not being honest with when it came to her feelings and--okay okay fine I'll shut up now sorry--).

Plus, Ace having Mondo parallels doesn't mean he has to be the culprit. Nico wasn't the victim just because they had Chihiro parallels, so the same can be true for Ace. It does make him a little more suspicious, though, sadly.

Also...

I wonder how this would pay off if Ace died? I immediately assumed that oh, Levi will die, and Ace will realize that this statement was not true. But it could go in way more directions than that.

This line has to be pretty damn important if it got the bold yellow letter treatment. That statement is going to affect Ace or Levi (or both) in a very major way.

If Ace dies, then...I guess I'm not sure if that statement would affect Levi as much without Ace being there. Levi has already said that he would not care if Ace died. It would simply be as if he never knew him, like he was a stranger. And I guess, in my mind, it makes a lot more sense if Ace is a living embodiment of what he said to Levi than him just being gone.

I mean, imagine if Levi threatened Ace and then Ace was the culprit in chapter 1. Levi would not care nearly as much about what he said, because everyone thinks Ace did a bad thing by framing Teruko and not admitting to the class that he murdered Xander, even if it was with good intentions.

Now imagine that Ace is the culprit of chapter two. He murdered Arei with not-good intentions, framed Eden, and never admitted he did it until the bitter end. No one liked Ace before, and they certainly don't like him now. He took advantage of Arei's trust in Eden and for that no one will forgive him. Ace was not a good person, and most of Levi's classmates will reinforce this. So if Ace wanted Levi to die, it doesn't matter, right? Levi tried his best to help him, and he failed, but he tried his best, like Eden said.

What I'm trying to say is that if Ace dies here, I'm not sure how one would make it so that this line really resonates with Levi enough to make a significant enough impact on him that it's highlighted. If Ace is gone and made out to be a no-good murderer by the killing game system they're trapped in, and no one thought Ace was a good person as is, Levi wouldn't put stock in Ace's opinion nearly as much as he would, say, Eden's. Ace was a bully and a murderer, so his opinion doesn't matter, right? I doubt anyone else in the killing game will disagree, so I'm guessing none of them will be ecstatic to defend Ace's honor if Levi asks anyone about it in chapter three.

Long story short, this line makes a lot more sense to me if both Levi and Ace survive trial two (Or I guess if Levi gets executed because of that 'all murderers must pay for their crimes' rule but still).

Other than that, a few other points that make Ace being the culprit less likely are that we have no evidence of Ace knowing about where to find Hu and Teruko's old clothes and that sort of thing. Then there's the spelling mistake I don't think Ace would make given how he acts in the investigation and trial, as I said in another post (Would they really make a point to have Ace of all people correct Teruko's language twice only to have a sticking point be that a word was misspelled in a letter he wrote?).

Plus there's the fact that, allegedly, the culprit made the time ambiguous so that no one would know they did the murder at AM not PM, and Ace didn't have an alibi for either time slot. It'd be weird to do that and then not get yourself an alibi for the fake PM murder time. If the culprit didn't do that on purpose, then I guess they just got really, really lucky when no one found the small piece saying pm or am. Like, that's a smaller piece, so it's not surprising no one found it, but it being such a small piece of the note makes it look like it was ripped out purposefully.

Honestly, the only thing I'd sort of like about Ace culprit theory is that it would confirm Ace writes all fancy and nice, haha. Which would be a really funny subversion of expectations, but not funny enough for me to not be sad he's the culprit and is going to die.

Another thing I've seen floating around is that if the culprit really did copy/reuse the Nico-Ace murder contraption, they would need to know how it works. And if Ace was in the gym that night, that would mean he knows how it works and would be able to replicate it!

But this entire time, we've gone under the assumption that Nico (or whoever almost-murdered Ace) knocked Ace out with the turpentine, and that's why they stole it. Ace is pretty strong physically, so someone needing to knock him out to overpower him isn't too unbelievable. And in that case, Ace wouldn't have gotten much of a chance to look at the crime scene, since he was unconscious for the whole murder attempt. The only time we saw him awake was in the time he woke up bleeding out. And seeing as Ace isn't exactly the brightest, I doubt he could've just looked around while actively dying and immediately have known exactly what was up and how he almost got murdered. And on top of all that, if he was secretly planning a murder, he'd have been focusing on his whole pretending-to-want-to-kill-Nico thing, too, further dividing his attention. Whoever set up the mechanism or saw it for a longer period of time without bleeding out, probably would've had a better shot at knowing how the mechanism worked.

Oh, and before I go: I've mentioned this before, but "All That Glitters" and "A Good Person" aren't really themes that I think would suit Ace as a culprit. After all, they mean 'not as good as it seems' and 'being a good person'. Unlike some other characters, Ace hasn't had any involvement in the Good Person dilemma except telling Levi he's not one. And I don't think anyone thought Ace was 'good' in the first place, let alone not as good as he seems.

I could probably go more in-depth...But I'm tired so short, straightforward theme explanation it is, haha.

I...Think that's all? Honestly, I might be able to think of more reasons in the future...But for now, I think I'm done. I refuse to accept the culprit is Ace, so I'm just trying to point out any evidence I can that it's not him. My heart wouldn't be able to take it...

Still, I don't judge anyone who does buy the ace culprit theory, I just don't buy it personally. So there's the answer you were probably looking for, in way less words, haha.

[weirdkpopgirl]

Waiting | Dream Reaction #13

Reaction: when their gf wants to save sex for marriage

Genre: Um mostly fluff

Warnings: slightly suggestive, making out in Jeno's, and mentions of sex (but nothing graphic at all)

Word Count: ~2.9k

Author's Note: I feel like it's been so long since I wrote a Dream reaction. The following scenario was a request sent by someone. To be honest, I was a bit hesitant about doing it because I know this concept isn't that popular today. However, it is a personal value I hold and I'm not trying to impose it on those who have different opinions. But it is something I've always secretly wanted to write about. So here you go, I hope you like it ^ ^

~ ~ ~

mark

After being under the weather for weeks now, Mark thought it was time to get you checked up. That was how you found yourself sitting in a pristine white room on a Monday morning. You scanned the room anxiously, nervously drumming your fingers against the chair’s armrest. However, the nerves you were feeling calmed down a little when Mark placed his hand on top of yours.

Finally the door creaked open, and the doctor exchanged polite greetings with the two of you. Taking a seat at her computer, the doctor ran through the customary procedure of inquiring about your symptoms and any recent changes in lifestyle.

“Have you two been sexually active recently?” the doctor asked, causing a slight shift in the atmosphere. 

Heat instantly rose to your cheeks as you turned to your boyfriend with a surprised glance. 

“Oh—no, we haven’t even…” Your voice trailed off, almost as if you were too flustered to finish your sentence.

The doctor nodded understandingly and moved on to the next question. Once the check-up was finished, she just advised you to get some more rest and take some time off work to recover.

Back in the car, you and Mark burst into awkward laughter, finding humor in the unexpected nature of that encounter.

“I was so embarrassed,” you cried, covering your face, “I thought I was going to die back there.”

Mark laughed along, “Yeah me too. I don’t know why I was so surprised when she asked us that.”

A brief silence hung in the air as Mark steadied his hand on the wheel, and you gazed out of the car window. Although you believed you handled the situation reasonably, some more serious thoughts lingered in your mind. Even though it’s only been a few months since you two started dating, the doctor’s question made you realize that you hadn’t discussed the subject before.

“Speaking of though,” you said, broaching the topic cautiously. “I actually want to save sex for marriage.”

You were already bracing yourself for a negative reaction when Mark didn’t respond right away. But then he shrugged nonchalantly and said, “Okay.”

“Really?” You stared at him wide-eyed. “You’re okay with it?”

Mark nodded thoughtfully, “I mean, I can’t say it’s going to be easy. But if waiting is important to you, then it’s important to me too.”

A wave of relief washed over you, comforted now that this conversation went a lot smoother than you had anticipated. 

“Thank you, I really appreciate that,” you said, a smile lighting up your face.

Mark reached over to squeeze your hand. “No problem, babe.”

In his mind, it really wasn’t a big deal. He definitely planned on marrying you someday, so he saw it as something to look forward to in your future together.

‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿

renjun 

He was the only one to actually bring up the subject first. Although it wasn’t something he had greatly dwelled on beforehand. After being together for a few months, your relationship had proven to be relatively stable. However when it came to physical intimacy, the two of you never progressed beyond making out. While Renjun wasn’t particularly bothered by it, a sense of curiosity lingered in his thoughts.

One evening as you both walked back to your place after a date, he decided to bring it up. “(Y/n), can I ask you something?” he asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Curious as to what this was about, you nodded. “Sure. What is it?”

“I just…I was wondering when we’re going to have sex?” He scratched his head, as the words awkwardly tumbled from his lips. You observed his cheeks turn a light shade of pink, and you could also feel your own face warming up coincidentally.

You knew this conversation was inevitable, and you’ve spent a decent amount of time preparing what you would say if it came up. Despite the mental preparation, you were a little wary of what Renjun’s response might be.

“I’m glad you brought that up,” you said, attempting to mask the nervousness in your tone. “The thing is, I want to wait until marriage for sex. I hope that’s okay with you.”

To your surprise, his response came quickly as he nodded in understanding. “That’s no problem for me. I'm happy to wait for you,” he assured.

“I know people might think we’re crazy,” you continued with a sense of unease in your voice.

Before you could finish your thought, Renjun stopped walking to cup your face with his hands. “I don’t care what people think. Our connection and the boundaries we set are more important than anyone else’s opinions,” he said assertively. “I respect your decision, and I’m here with you no matter what.”

As his words sank in, a grateful smile formed on your lips. Sighing, you leaned in to place a sweet peck on his lips. 

“What did I ever do to deserve you?”

Renjun chuckled and affectionately patted your head. “Cutie.”

His hands intertwined once more, and the two of you resumed walking back to your apartment. The both of you felt a lot better now that the topic had been addressed.

‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿

jeno

The evening started out normal, really. You were having a movie date in his apartment, which was a regular occurrence for homebodies like yourselves. Yet, an almost suffocating tension lingered in the air, subtly bringing the two of you closer.

Before you could blink, blankets were tossed aside and you found yourself lying on your back as Jeno’s lips devoured yours in a series of passionate kisses. His hands found their way to your waist, and yours wrapped around his neck, drawing him nearer. The room was filled with a soft hum of your chemistry, creating a moment that seemed to make time freeze.

Your conscience started to come back as you felt Jeno’s hands begin to roam your body. Although a part of you didn’t want to stop, you placed a hand on your boyfriend’s chest and gently pulled away. Jeno glanced at you with a puzzled expression. 

Sighing, you sat up. “I’m sorry…it’s just…there’s something I think we should talk about.”

You hated seeing Jeno’s face flicker with confusion. But he nodded for you to continue.

“If…if it’s okay with you, I want to wait until we’re married to have sex,” you admitted, your gaze unwavering. 

Jeno’s eyebrows furrowed in surprise, and it took a bit to process your words before responding. “Oh, okay,” he said in an understanding tone.

You looked at him, searching for any sign of disappointment or frustration. “You’re not upset about it?”

Jeno shook his head, as if it were obvious. “There’s no rush, baby. And I would never want to pressure you into doing something you’re not comfortable with.”

“Thank you for understanding,” you expressed, eyes softening with gratitude. You had expected a different reaction from him, fearing that he might feel restricted. But his kind words put you at ease.

Jeno returned your smile, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “But we can still make out, right?” 

The mischievous sparkle in his eyes made you laugh. “Of course we can,” you chuckled, pulling him down with you.

That was all Jeno needed to hear before his lips were on yours again. The chemistry from before was quickly reignited, and the two of you savored the intimacy of the moment.

‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿

haechan

The two of you were just cuddling in his bedroom, after he had convinced you to take a break from studying. Nestled comfortably in his arms, he traced lazy circles on your back, creating a soothing rhythm to accompany the moment. You snuggled against him happily, enjoying this peaceful moment with your boyfriend.

“(Y/n),” he spoke suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

You glanced up in response. “Hm?”

He stared at you momentarily, tenderly brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. You were curious as to what he had to say, you found it hard to read his expression.

“Have you ever thought about…you know, when you want to have sex?” he asked, deciding it was best to just be straightforward. 

Your cheeks flushed slightly, caught off guard by his question. “Um…well I think I want to wait until marriage,” you admitted.

Biting your lip, you searched Haechan’s expression. The corner of his lips curled into a teasing smile. “In that case, will you, (L/n) (Y/n), marry me?” he asked dramatically.

“Lee Haechan, don’t joke about that,” you scolded, smacking him on the shoulder. The boy laughed, and pulled you closer to him. 

“Okay, okay I’m sorry,” he apologized, giving you a quick kiss on your forehead. “We’ll take things at your pace, baby. You don’t need to worry.”

You murmured a thank you, relaxing into his arms once more. As playful as Haechan was, you were grateful for his understanding. There really wasn’t much to worry about when you were with him.

‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿

jaemin

The gentle glow of the candles sitting on the coffee table created a warm and inviting atmosphere in Jaemin’s living room. You sat snugly on the couch with his cats, waiting for your boyfriend to come back from the kitchen. Although you appeared calm on the outside, as you ran your fingers through Luna’s soft white fur, your mind buzzed with anxious thoughts. You wanted to have a serious conversation with him tonight, but you were a bit apprehensive about it.

Your heart began to race as Jaemin reentered the room, carrying two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. It only took a single glance for him to detect your unease. Placing the cups on the coffee table, he took your hand in his and offered a comforting smile.

“Is there something on your mind, love?” he asked with such tenderness that it almost made you feel guilty.

Exhaling briefly, you tried to return his smile. “Yeah, there’s actually something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”

Jaemin’s eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and concern. “I’m listening,” he replied, reaching over to gently scratch under Luna’s chin.

You took another deep breath, gathering your thoughts. “It’s just that we’ve been together for quite some time now, and I know you’ve probably thought about this. But I want to share with you that I’d like for us to save sex for marriage.”

There was a brief moment of silence as Jaemin absorbed your words. Afraid of a negative reaction, you started to back yourself up.

“It’s just that I’ve never done it before, and waiting until I’m married has always been important to me,” you continued, going on a slight tangent. “It has nothing to do with you or an attempt to restrict you.”

The warm smile Jaemin gave you felt like a game changer. He lightly squeezed your hand, his eyes reflecting nothing but understanding. “You don’t have to worry, Princess. I understand completely, and I agree it’s best to wait too.”

Instantly relief began to wash over you. “Really?”

“Absolutely,” he nodded, his smile unwavering. “I want our first time to be something we both cherish. And when we’re both ready to take that step, I promise it will be a special moment for both of us.”

His eyes gleamed with a sincerity that made you want to burst into tears. Suddenly, you questioned why you were so nervous in the first place. Every action of Jaemin’s was out of love and kindness from the depths of his heart.

“You’re so sweet,” you murmured, cupping his face with your hands. “I wish all men could be as understanding and caring as you.”

Jaemin’s gaze softened more, and he leaned in to leave a lingering kiss on your lips. “You give me too much credit, princess. As your boyfriend, it’s my job to ensure you always feel respected and loved.”

“Stop it, you’re going to make me cry,” you exclaimed, using your hand to fan your eyes.

He chuckled in response and pulled you closer to cuddle. As you remained in his embrace with his cats nestled around you, you realized how lucky you were to have Jaemin by your side. 

‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿

chenle

You had been avoiding the subject for as long as possible, mostly because it was a little awkward for you. This was your first serious relationship, and you were sure Chenle’s thought about it before. But he was waiting for you to say something first.

Then came an evening where the two of you were watching a movie at his place. You didn’t exactly plan on talking to him about it that day. It kind of just slipped out.

Neither of you had a specific preference for what to watch, so Chenle randomly selected something on Netflix. However, halfway into the film, a provocative scene began to unfold. A knot tightened in your stomach, and within five seconds, you averted your gaze. Chenle chuckled nervously beside you, wisely opting to change the movie.

Even though something new was being played on the screen, you found yourself making occasional sideway glances toward Chenle. The realization struck that you had been putting off this topic for so long, and the nagging feeling inside you knew it would keep bothering you if you didn’t address it now.

Before your nerves could get the better of you, a heavy exhale escaped you. “Chenle, there’s something I want to talk about.”

His eyebrows raised slightly in concern, sensing the apprehensiveness in your voice. “What’s up?” he asked.

The movie’s ambiance served as a backdrop to your hesitancy. But determined not to chicken out, you closed your eyes and blurted out, “I want to wait until marriage for sex!”

You opened your eyes to see Chenle’s face swiftly transition from a surprised expression to a more composed one. For some reason he thought you were going to break up with him or something. So when he processed your words, in his head he was like “oh, that was it?”

“Okay, that’s cool,” he said, figuring that was all and leaned back on the couch.

His nonchalant response left you looking at him in disbelief. “You’re not upset at all?”

“No, why would I be?” he chuckled, playfully nudging you. “Sex isn’t everything. If waiting until marriage is important to you, then I’m on board with that.”

The way his eyes reflected genuine sincerity, gave you more reassurance. “Gosh, you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that,” you exhaled.

He grinned, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He couldn’t resist teasing you a little.

“Well what can I say? You’re dating a great man.”

You rolled your eyes, earning a laugh from him as he pulled you closer. Secretly, you had to agree that Zhong Chenle was indeed a great man.

‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿

jisung

It really wasn’t a big deal to him. But he did think about it from time to time. The both of you were somewhat new to being in a relationship. However, after being together for a few months, Jisung thought the two of you should’ve had sex by now. 

He was almost afraid to ask, because the two of you had never directly discussed sex before. But the desire to know your thoughts was becoming overwhelming, and Jisung knew that he’d explode if he didn’t bring up the subject.

As you lounged together in your living room, Jisung absentmindedly fiddled with the drawstrings of his hoodie. Occasionally he stole glances at you, who was scrolling through social media posts on your phone. He almost choked when you said something.

“Is there something on your mind, Jisungie?” you asked, without even looking up from your phone. It was as if you could sense he had something to say, solely by his body language. You had to hold back from smiling in amusement as his eyes widened in surprise.

The boy beside you laughed nervously as he sat up a bit straighter. “I—um want to talk about us. You know in terms of…”

“Sex?” you finished his sentence, throwing him off even more. 

Jisung looked at you with a perplexed expression. “Are you a magician? How did you know that was what I wanted to talk about?”

“I don’t know, lucky guess?” you chuckled, casting your phone aside. “It’s also something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about too.”

“Really?!”

You nodded, flattening your hands across the blanket on your lap. “I know we’ve never discussed it before, but I think it’s best to be transparent with you. Is that okay?”

 “Of course,” Jisung answered right away. “I want you to be honest with me, Jagi.”

Lowering your gaze, you took a deep breath before confessing, “Well, um—I want to wait until marriage for, you know, sex.”

It took a moment for you to gather the courage to look at Jisung again. When you did, you were met with an almost relieved expression.

“You know what? I think that’s a great idea,” Jisung said, assuringly. “We can just take our time, with no rush.”

You smiled in response, “I’m glad we’re on the same page then.”

Jisung’s shoulders visibly relaxed and he sank back into the couch. “Ugh, I feel so much better now that we’ve talked about it,” he said, covering his eyes.

Shaking your head with a laugh, you observed the boy in amusement.

“You’re such a dork,” you murmured, snuggling against his hoodie. Jisung smiled and snaked his arm around to hug you.

Jisung was genuinely relieved that you were both honest about your feelings of intimacy. In fact, he felt like having this conversation brought you even closer. Although you were both young, he felt secure knowing your relationship was built on a sense of connection and trust.

‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿︵‿୨✧୧‿︵‿

[orphiclovers]

*strokes my nails on velvety couch* any more thoughts on hsycest.... food for the people perchance?

My favourite hsycest to think about is during the pre-scenarios era.

I headcanon, at least a couple of times, not often, 1863 forcibly took control of young HSY to prevent herself from making mistakes - this is the time traveler's prerogative, after all. She watched her younger self live her life every day for 13 years. Like anyone seeing their past, she probably cringed at some events and wished they didn't happen, while some memories were traumatic - of course she would try to prevent them when given the opportunity. She is a regressor, after all.

And this goes into my young Han Sooyoung headcanons.... we know her father was a politican and mother an actress and that they didn't raise her, left her alone in a huge apartment with houskeepers. Basic neglected rich girl backstory.

I think Han Sooyoung age 16-17 entered her rebellious phase and started acting out, subconsiously seeking her parents attention. Drinking and partying and perhaps experimenting with drugs and the like - rich kids don't get in trouble for that. Just a total edgelord.

I can imagine 1863 possessing her in the moment where HSY's consciousness is blurred by alcohol and keeping her safe at some party she shouldn't be at. She's cold and mean to HSY's "friends" and tells everyone to fuck off. And if Han Sooyoung has blank spots in her memory later, she'd think nothing of it as that's a normal blackout experience.

Then, by 20-21 she's calmed down a little, in uni and writing. This is where her dating troubles become apparent (read Ch.487). I think some of it was 1863's fault lol

1863 thinks of young HSY as naive and childish and a bit of an idiot - plus, she has seen the future and already knows how all these relationships will end. What's the point wasting time on these men? She knows none of these jerks are worthy of her, so even if one DID stick around for a bit... well, it's not hard to 'scare them off', which only proves her point. She knows what is best for them both.

That's how 1863 justifies her protectiveness and possesiveness. If there are other reasons she doesn't like the idea of young HSY dating well... she won't acknowledge those.

Young HSY doesn't get why all her boyfriends run away calling her a 'crazy psycho bitch' but just sighs and resigns herself to staying single.

This is what I meant with that "all her relationships fail because her true soulmate is the time travelling older self possessing her" post🤭

[fluffernuttermushroom]

KND Community Challenge

1: when did you start watching the show?

 I think it was near the end of 2023? I was introduced to the fandom by one of the comics that @fallen-gabrielle posted. I was a fan of old fashioned cartoons already and loved the unique art style! A few comics and several episodes later, I was hooked!

2: favorite season?

I haven’t watched trough the entire series yet(Currently on season 3). But Iike season three for all the new characters introduced!

3: favorite episode?

T.U.R.N.I.P.

T.H.E.-F.L.Y.

Q.U.I.E.T.

G.R.O.W.-U.P.

D.O.G.F.I.G.H.T.

F.U.T.U.R.E.

U.T.O.P.I.A.

4: hated episode?

P.I.N.K.E.Y.E. (ick)

5: favorite character?

Favorite character(s)!

Rachel(I often feel her ‘I have been everyone’s councilor at this point and I am tired of people’ feeling. Is this an INFJ thing?),

Hoagie(He reminds me of my cousin + we have the shared love for bad puns & dad jokes!),

Abby(Cool!),

Sally Sanban(I am obsessed with her for some reason),

Nigel’s grandson(Same reason with Sally. Dunno why), 

6: did you cry when you watch OP INTERVIEWS?

I didn't cry but It felt quite bitter sweet. I’m the sort of person who watches the end before finishing a series. So I kind of scrolled through the entire wiki and watched I.N.T.E.R.V.I.E.W.S. before actually watching the C:KND. It is an inevitable fate for all kids to grow up to grow old and gray at some point. But I have never seen characters grown up in a cartoon before. The whole episode made KND hit a bit too close to home to me. 

Ironically the episode that made me upset the most ended up being one of the reasons that I like about the KND. 

You will grow up

But you will never grow out of some things

7: funniest moment?

Wally saying “C’mon she already has every single rainbow monkey there is!”

And then watching in horror as the rainbow monkey aircraft coming into view before saying;

“Oh yeah, except that one.”

8: saddest moment?

Abby giving up in Operation M.A.U.R.I.C.E. after facing that every one she knows and loves in the KND will turn into teens & forget about her eventually. 

9: favorite KND artist?

Again, can’t pick just one! This is going to be long so the list of artists and why I like them are listed below

10: favorite canon KND ship?

3x4 and 2x5

11: favorite headcanon KND ship?

Ummm... can’t choose! Straight, Gay, Lesbian, Pan, Poly, Platonic I love & have them all!

I have a lot of different head cannons for different scenarios.

But the ones in my fanfiction are currently 1x362, 60x86, 2xAce(the kid), 83x84, 23x35

12: what's one thing you love about the fandom?

The thousands of fan theories, fan fiction with their own interesting head cannons, multiple aus and crossovers, and of course the beautiful fanart with unique art styles!

13: what's one thing you hate about the fandom?

Those weird pedo & insest shippers that keep spawning out of nowhere

14: do you wish there were more die hard KND fans in the fandom?

YES. A thousand times YES.

15: when did you start drawing KND art?

Near the start of May 2024 and have been drawing almost daily ever since! But It’s mostly animation plans and sketches so I don’t post often nowadays 

:P

16: how old were you when you started drawing KND art?

Hm, will answer that on my birthday.

17: how old are you now and are you still drawing KND art?

Same with the answer above! I will answer on my birthday

18: what's one thing you wish would stop in the fandom?

The pedo & insest ships, art thefts, rude requests and just disrespecting other people.

19: quick pick your favorite 2×4?

M.A.R.B.L.E.(Mustardy Armament Releases Big Loud Explosion) and 

G.A.R.G.O.C.Y.C.L.E.(Granite Augmented Rocket Glider Outstandingly Creates Your Cool Looking Escape)!

20: what's your Codename?

Numbuh 9.24!

(KND Community Challenge Template Credits To @arudan)

+Answer to question number 9

@fallen-gabrielle: The one who brought me into the fandom + has a lot of lovely AUs!

@midnight-the-goth-artist: Satisfies my inner goth, has helluva boss inspired art

@gen-toon: Beautiful angles & poses

@numbuh02: The scratchy art style!

@artsygirl0315: Her OCs remind me of ENA! And they interact with the fandom often

@elijaheldridge: FLOOF EVERY WHERE

@mixxxerlyishere: OC with a unique design! 

@scarlett-v-the-fox: The head cannons for minor KND characters are really intricate

@bluccoli: Rare fellow Korean KND artist & takes a lot of requests!

@gettan49: Still reading ‘Operation:  BEYOND’ it’s a really well made fanfiction

@parasite-doll: Always love the creepy art style

@mixx0: The sillies (OCs)

@kandykatz: Uses the tumblr aesthetics to it’s full extent + draws hair really well!

@bluepastels29: Insane attention to detail to her cloth designs

@numbuh900: G:KND OCs!

@numbuh-72: Great at KND edits! It looks like a part of the show if I don’t look closely

@ohlookanothercartoontofallinto: Lineless art. LINELESS ART.

@kndrules: Sector V as grown-up comics!

@sok-knd: Uses brushes really well & has a lot of different art styles 

@kukiiisblog: 3x4 art in webtoon + old cartoon style

@numbuhinfinitys: Reyna and their  cute shenanigans with the delightful children

@your-genious-artistic-girl: I dunno how she makes line arts that clear! Mine are always squiggley

@pennywhistle2021: Numbuh 30c art! Most of the fan art of 30c that I find on deviant art is theirs

@knd1234isme: Numbuh 4 in every form possible

@torra-and-the-toons: Has really specific Nigel head cannons + old cartoons!

@spicedwatermel0n: Not picky with ships & is understanding with others 

@kidsnextdoor-doodles: Moonbabies :)

@pinkmeanschaos: KND genderbend everything! And a fellow 60 x 86 shipper

@bugtoonz: Pastel art! Their art is always easy on the eyes

@rubiisun: The art style always gives me a fluffy feeling

@kommandonuovidiavoli: Everyones favorite grandma :) Penny’s chaotic nature always tickles me

@rainbowbeam231: Uses colors really well with her OCs!

@totallynoteggos: Unique concept with making the (Y/N) self insert as and OC!

@some-loozzr: Good with lighting! + The spank-happy sector V members look so scrappy I love them