#And I still see those effects to this day.

[bamfkeeper]

Texture.

RQ: 'I don't do requests a lot cause they make me nervous, so forgive me if its kinda all over the place. I was curious if you could do headcanons about kurt with like an autistic s/o who finds comfort in like listening to him speak in his language or like the feeling of his fur if that makes sense? Fuzzy textures help calm me a bit when im super anxious or overstimulated.' - @bunnysarts

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!reader // Warnings: None

A/N: Cute hcs with Kurt are my guilty pleasure, especially when dealing with things like this. I think he'd be so, so good at it. One of those who'd be extremely considerate and go out of his way to make you feel comfortable <3

Kurt is very conscious about your needs. He tries his best to learn and understand them.

Growing up, he didn't get a lot of knowledge about mental disorders or mental health much at all, so coming to the mansion she seeing that there are a lot of students effected with them, he did his best to learn about them to be more helpful.

More so with you.

He researched and learned, discovering what could help you the most during hard times.

He realized things like textures help a lot, so he bought you many things to toy with in your hands when you were feeling overstimulated or anxious.

Kurt would try to bamf you out of stressful situations too, but he knew that some of those things were unavoidable.

So instead, he pulled your hands up to him and under his uniform, letting your palms feel his velvety, fuzzy chest. "Ah, das ist gut, ja? Focus on me, liebe....focus on my body. On my voice. Alles ist in Ordnung..."

You just have to lean into him and feel his arms and tail wrap around you while he slowly calms you from a high strung panicked state. He does his very best.

"Atmen...just like that. Du machst das so gut." Kurt soothes and rubs your back, using his arms to shield your head and ears to muffle the sounds coming in.

Feeling his fuzzy chest and his heartbeat would help you a lot, his tail wrapped firmly around you, maybe even letting you mess with his spade.

If you like scents too, he'd do his best to smell like the specific scent you like the most. I mean, he does kinda always smell like brimstone, but...he'd try. For you.

"How do you feel now?" He asked, looking down as you pulled back from him. He gives you a gentle smile, his hands rubbing your arms and ensuring you were okay.

"You did wonderfully, liebe. So well. Ich bin stolz auf dich." He praises as you come down from your stress. It makes you smile, he helped you come down from a scary state of mind and you felt much better now.

"Yeah, I do, thank you Kurt...you're the best." You whisper, still a little shaken up but you're doing much better thanks to him.

He sticks by you for the day, making sure you're really doing okay like you said.

He's pretty protective over you, so staying at a distance isn't' something he wants to do.

You wouldn't want that either.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[enwoso]

lovie seeing katie’s new ad and making fun of her every time she’s around😂 she’ll run past and yells out

“neowwww🏎️”

“woosh 💨”

“vroom🚝”

“zing🛎️”

NOISE BOX — alessia russo x child!reader

lil something something, trying to find my mojo for writing again🙃

grumpy masterlist

“katie, katie!” you called out as the irish girl walked along the training pitch, her water bottle in her hand. a sweet smile appearing when she looked towards you who was stood at the side calling her name, flaying your arms around.

“tiny! you okay?” she asks as she gets a little bit closer as you nod your head a little dramatically. the rest of the girls packing up, training being finished for the day.

“i see your ad- avert-“ you began but getting yourself in a muddle trying to say the word, katie keeping her patience as she tried to prompt you into the word.

“advert?” katie tried as you nodded, “yep that one!”

“did you now?” katie laughed a little as you began to imitate the noise effects that katie had made in the mini advert for adidas.

“neowwww” you giggled as you ran around katie in circles your arms kept in by your side before changing your noise effect to the next one, “wooooshhh” you called out loudly this time your arms going out a bit like a plane as katie just laughed, it was actually quite cute.

alessia hearing your giggles came to inspect what was the cause, seeing katie stood still as you ran circles around the irish girl. alessia wanting to also make sure you weren’t being annoying.

“lovie, your not being little monkey are you?” you heard your mummy’s voice as you stopped in your tracks, a little mischievous smile appearing in your face as you shook your head.

alessia’s eyes moving to look at katie who shook her head, “no she’s just copying my noises from my advert”

an understanding nod came over your mummy as she giggled a little, knowing that some of the girls on the team had taken the mick out of katie for those sounds. it being a little comical that now you were doing the same.

“well come on lovie, let katie finish her cool down” alessia held out her hand for you to come and hold but not before you rushed past katie, “ziiingg!”

a small chuckle came from katie as well as alessia as you ran in front of the two, most likely trying to catch up with some of the other girls in front. it being very easy to hear the noises you were making as you ran ahead.

“i’m never going to escape that am i?” katie looked to alessia as they then both looked to you still running around making the noises. a small shake of the head coming from alessia as she popped her lip.

“nope i don’t think you are mac- you’ve got your own little noise box now” alessia smirked as she nudged katie.

[shortkinglogan]

Comparing Wade and Logan's healing factors

I keep reading fics that seem unsure about how their individual healing factors work and differ so I'm making this post to help clear it up for anyone who cares (if you just wanna make stuff up for fun more power to ya)

Let's start with

Logan

As far as what he can heal from, it seems as long as there is a small amount of his genetic code, and as long as it gets enough energy, he can regenerated from just about anything.

He needs tons of calories to maintain the healing factor normally.

He can even regenerated from just a skeleton and it only takes a few minutes to happen.

He isn't seen reattaching limbs but I'd assume this is possible under the right conditions, for the same reasons Wade can do it.

There's also the rest of his abilities that are directly effected by his healing factor.

Without the admantium on his bones, his healing factor isn't constantly working, and his senses and instincts become more powerful, making him more likely to go feral. He also cannot regenerated the admantium because it wasn't a natural part of him to begin with.

Feral Logan is like a mental state he regresses into, he has been without the admantium and still not fully feral, seemingly because he has some people to anchor him, though he is still more animalistic like this. He can even be pulled back out of that mental state by just the scent of someone he cares about.

Wade

His healing is very similar to Logan's, yet also very different.

Wade also can regenerated from just a drop of blood if it can get energy to do so, for Wade, instead of an energy crystal thing, it's Logan's energy, growing off him like an ear on a mouse.

His healing factor works about as fast as Logan's as well able to regenerated quickly when needed. Unlike Logan though, Wade has been seen reattaching limbs instead of just growing them back, but it makes sense both could do it, Logan just keeps getting those dismembered limbs thrown miles away or destroyed so he didn't get a chance as far as I know to do the same as Wade.

Now this i see being weirdly interpreted and I feel like I know what's going on.

Its not a "dying factor" it's still a healing factor, it's just weird because of how CANCER works. Cancer is not dead cells, it's mutated constantly growing cells, so a healing factor would not pick that up as something to kill off or heal from, so wades cancer just spread until his entire body, skin bones and all, are nothing but cancerous cells, and stopping the cancer stops the healing because it stops the cells from regrowing, this, stopping his healing (of he wasn't made of cancer he may still be able to heal even if the cancer was stopped)

What his healing factor is constantly working on however is the effects of all this cancer on his body, he probably experiences a different organ failing on him and regrowing almost every day. So what would happen if he had no cancer to make his healing factor constantly work? Could he go feral too?

Short answer no, in fact, Logan's feral state is more because of his other abilities than the healing factor, I feel like a Wade without the cancer would be like Nicepool, not in constant pain and trying to cover it up, not mentally unstable due to many brain tumors, and doesn't really have a reality hole in his brain.

Also in the comics at least, not MCU Wade, he is cursed with immortality by Thanos cause he was jealous Wade was with death romantically, so he literally cannot die, and the healing factor is no longer even a real player in his inability to die.

So in conclusion

Their healing factors work basically in the exact same way, just has a different effect on each of them due to their respective personal traits (cancer brain vs animal brain)

Neither is better than the other, they are equals, at least until Wade starts mackin on death and becomes immortal.

You just can't kill them without starving them first, and even then we know Logan will eat himself (and feed his flesh to Wade) before allowing either to starve.

Side note, they definitely can age (or at least, Logan does, Wade being immortal and all can't now) even with the healing factor, it doesn't stop aging, but it does make him able to live WAY longer than any normal human. Gotta give some love to old man Logan.

If anyone thinks I've missed something or has theories for things that aren't solid confirmed that differ from my own please lmk! 💙💛

[magnets5581]

bedroom (dynamic 🙈)

ok so my personal favorite flavor of carcar is Oscar being a possessive bastard, and I think that would be so yummy translated into the bedroom.

Oscar is still still in disbelief that he has the Carlos Sainz Jr. in his bed most nights; the other nights he’s the one in Carlos’ bed.

Because the thing is, Oscar isn’t blind. He sees the way Charles looked at Carlos in those fucking Fifty Shades of Ferrari PR videos, all lips parted and fuck-me-eyes. He is painfully aware of how Lando, even now, will stop a conversation with whoever he’s speaking with just to give his full attention to Carlos when he walks by. It feels like everyone in the damn paddock will take any chance to touch and tease Carlos, and the fury simmers deep within Oscar because that man is his.

In bed, Oscar is always pushing the limit of how high up on Carlos’s neck he can leave a hickey or a bite mark. On media days, he’ll send Carlos out in a pair of panties of his choosing with the promise that they will be unusable with the things Oscar wants to do to him. Back in bed, Oscar is obsessed with the mirror that always catches how beautiful Carlos looks in the heat of it all. Oscar cannot help but grab, and claw, and feel Carlos in whenever they have time to themselves, because what he wants is just too indecent to do in public.

Carlos loves that he has this effect on Oscar. The man is usually so reserved and withdrawn, but not when it comes to Carlos, and it makes him feel so wanted.

—

~* ask game!

[jjonglemons]

Mr. CEO

Jongho / NSFW

You’ve been working at a new company as a Marketing Manager for nearly a year. It’s clear that Choi Jongho, the CEO, has taken a liking to you throughout your time there, and vice versa. Finally, your subtle flirtations with each other reach a boiling point.

WC: 2.8k

Warnings: smut, female reader, boss!employee, dirty talk, praise, bdsm, some fluff

Enjoy :)

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

“Finally,” you exhaled, reaching the office building with three minutes to spare. Not that your boss, Choi Jongho, was very strict to begin with, but nonetheless, you always valued being punctual when it came to your job. Unbeknownst to you, the trains were operating on an alternative schedule due to maintenance, so naturally when you reached the station at 8 AM sharp as you always do, you began stressing when you saw the timetable. Thankfully, there weren’t any delays for once and you made it to work by the time it said you would. Today, you had a very important presentation that would be disastrous to miss.

“Good morning, Miss!” The secretary greeted you cheerfully.

“Good morning,” you nodded back, smiling kindly before making your way into your office.

For the first time, you were in a position where you weren’t stuck in a cubicle, tightly snuggled in an overcrowded space of a fire hazard quantity of colleagues. You inhaled, letting out a deep sigh and closing your eyes for a moment to ground yourself for the day. Suddenly, you heard a light shuffling of footsteps that stopped in your doorway. 

“Good morning, Y/N.” You opened your eyes to see a smirking Jongho leaning against the doorframe, “how was your weekend?”

“Not too bad. I spent most of it wining and dining by myself.” You winked playfully, leaning forward to rest your chin onto your intertwined fingers. “What about you?”

“You want the honest answer or a lie?”

“Whatever you want.”

“I was babysitting my brother’s kids,” he sighed, “I love them and all, but trying to get work done while a three and five year old are screaming at you to play with them isn’t ideal, to say the least.”

You chuckled at his annoyance. That’s something you’ve dealt with yourself, being an aunt to three little ones. “I get it. Well,” you continued, “I hope you can find some time to let loose this week. I’m sure it was stressful, and only more so that we have this huge meeting today.” You knew that wasn’t going to help him feel any better, but the blunt side of you spoke up before you even realised.

“Ugh,” Jongho groaned, extra dramatically for effect, “don’t remind me. I still have some last minute tasks I need to finish.”

“Then you better get to it,” you commanded, clapping your hands and shooing him away jokingly.

He shot one final smile in your direction before taking his leave. “Catch you later, Y/N.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

“All those who vote no, raise your hand.” Jongho, said as the discussions from your presentation concluded.

You felt your throat drop into the pit of your stomach upon seeing eighty percent of the room raise their hands. You expected this. This new campaign idea of yours was a risk, but nonetheless, seeing it actually fail in front of you, despite all of the hard work you put into it, punched you in the gut. Hard.

“I think she had a lot of wonderful points,” Jongho added, “would some of you care to reconsider?”

The room stayed silent, no one seeming to change their minds. Your cheeks grew hotter as your embarrassment increased, unsure whether you wanted to scream at everyone for insulting your work or cry about being a failure. You gulped, sneaking a glance at Jongho beside you. His face was stoic. Of course being the CEO, he had to save face, but you couldn’t help but notice the concern in his eyes. You could tell he genuinely liked your idea and felt empathetic to this ordeal. But unfortunately, in order to keep democracy in the company, he couldn’t just ignore everyone else's opinions on the matter.

“Seriously?” He murmured, noticeably aggravated. No one seemed to hear or notice, though, other than you. He cleared his throat. “Okay,” he sighed, “then this idea is scratched. Todd, you will be presenting on Wednesday, okay? Everyone’s dismissed, thank you for your time.”

You stayed behind as everyone filed out, needing a minute to process your humiliation. You knew it wasn’t out of hostility, but it was hard not to take it personally, especially since this idea was one of the few you were really proud of. You truly hoped it would have been a game changer.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t realised Jongho was still in the room with you. “I’m sorry,” he expressed, continuing to clean the whiteboard, “I know you put a lot of thought into this from the little bits you’ve shared with me throughout the month. I wish I could have done more.”

You smiled, some of your unpleasant feelings fading into a sense of affection towards your boss. He may be your authority, but he’s always treated you as an equal. As a friend, not just a colleague. You’d admitted to yourself already that you had a crush on him, but it would likely pose an issue if you were to attempt to pursue anything. Though, you weren’t stupid; you could tell the feelings were mutual. 

“It’s okay,” you sighed, “Honestly, I’m pissed. I wanted to tell everyone how much they sucked,” you laughed, “but obviously that wouldn't have helped anything. I really loved this idea.”

“I’m mad, too,” Jongho said, gritting his teeth slightly, “you’re the best marketer in this fucking company and I’m tired of people not noticing that. Or ignoring it, I don’t know. Whatever it is, you deserve so much better.” He was inches away from your face now, “If I wasn’t trying to be a good boss, I’d say “fuck it” to the votes and have your idea plastered everywhere immediately.”

Thankfully the meeting room was windowless- even the door was lacking a peephole- because if someone were to walk by at this very moment, the way you two were standing would raise suspicion. 

“That’s sweet of you,” you said softly, lightly biting your lip.

Jongho stared at you for a moment, watching your movements. He had a million thoughts running through his head. He was angry on your behalf, at how much the colleagues seemed to undervalue you. He was angry at himself for not doing more to help, but realistically, he knew he couldn’t do that without turning into an inconsiderate boss, and he never wanted to be one that didn’t listen to nor care about his employees. He kept thinking about how beautiful you are; how kind and attentive you’ve been towards him, and everyone, since you started working there. He couldn’t forget the fact that you always stood by his side when rumours about him would spread around the office, giving him the benefit of the doubt. 

Despite only knowing each other for just short of a year, you truly saw him. All of the times you’d peak into his office when you’d stay late, noticing the art doodles that decorated his notebook as you quietly said goodbye to him. Or the times he’d fallen asleep at his desk, so you’d carefully organize his folders into a nice pile just so he’d have less to think about when he’d wake up to go home. All of the little things that made him Choi Jongho as a person, not just a CEO.

Suddenly, it didn’t matter that he was your boss. All he wanted was to show you that he cared and was proud of you, even if no one else did. 

And that’s when he lost all sense of reason and forgot you were anyone but Y/N, his friend and the person he was surely falling in love with.

“Can I kiss you?” Jongho asked, his voice coming out as a gentle whisper.

You blinked a few times in shock, unsure whether you had misheard him or not.

“Sorry, that was uncalled for,” he added, scratching his head shyly as he stepped away from you. He blushed, darting his eyes towards the wall. 

“Yes,” you said, interrupting the train of self-deprecating thoughts that were beginning to form in his mind. “Please kiss me,” you finished, adding more confidence to your tone.

Jongho inhaled sharply with nervousness and excitement for a moment before his lips found yours. He cupped your chin to bring you deeper into the kiss, but he suddenly stopped and pulled back, leaving you confused.

“The door,” is all he said before rushing over to quickly lock it and return back to you.

You gripped at the lapels of his suit, pulling him closer so that your bodies closed the gap between the two of you. Your tongue found its way into his mouth rather quickly, earning a muffled moan from him. 

“Shhh,” you giggled between kisses, “you have to be quiet.”

“I know, I know,” he assured, gripping your hips so he could push up against your core, “will you be, though?” he teased. He trailed his fingers along your hips to reach the button of your trousers, tugging at it lightly.

“Is that a challenge?” You baited, biting down on his lower lip. He whimpered, causing you to erupt into a giggle again, “damn, seems like you’ve already lost.”

Jongho’s eyes became clouded with a lustful glare, your taunting pressing him in all of the best ways. He flipped you over, pushing you against the meeting table. He gripped your hair and pulled your head up so it was flesh with his chest, his head dropping beside your ear. You could feel the heat of his breath trickling down the side of your neck. “I don’t think so, love,” he smirked. 

He used his free hand to unbutton your trousers, moving his fingers closer to your sex painfully slow. You hissed, wriggling beneath his grip. “Don’t tease me, Jongho,” you scoffed, “I’m already mad, so don’t make it worse.”

While this fact was true, you both knew you were just using those words as an excuse to rowel each other up even more. He chuckled as he reached your dripping core, fingers sliding between your folds as he began to make circles on your clit with a slow, yet urgent pace.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Jongho breathed, “I knew you liked me, but I didn’t know it was this much.”

“Who said I liked you?” You hummed, fluttering your eyes shut.

“Ha,” he scoffed, pushing one finger into you, “you couldn’t lie about that even if you tried.” 

Your moans began to grow in volume as Jongho pressed the tip of his fingers against your g-spot, sending shivers through your entire body. He slowly entered with a second finger, being careful not to hurt you. He began to curl his fingers, feeling your arousal increase with each movement. “You’re doing so well for me, baby,” he hummed, watching the way you twitched beneath him. He used the weight of him and the resistance of the table to keep you steady, moving the hand that was gripping your hair to now cover your mouth. “As much as I want to hear those pretty little moans of yours, I don’t need either of us getting fired.”

“Aren’t you the one who fires people?” You managed to get out through the shifts of his hand from the movement of your bodies.

Jongho didn’t respond. He was too engrossed in the feeling of your wet pussy around his fingers. He pushed a finger into your mouth, earning a slight gag from you. You began to bite down and suck on it, causing him to hiss. He started to pump his fingers faster, placing his thumb on your clit for more stimulation.

“Fuck, Jongho,” you whined as quietly as you could, “I’m going to come too soon if you keep this up.”

“I want to see you unravel,” he paused briefly to turn you once again so you were facing him. He picked you up to sit you on top of the table, quickly pulling your trousers down to your ankles so he had full access. He kept his hands steady on your thighs, deciding to take a seat in one of the meeting chairs so his lips could meet your sex. He sucked on your clit, making sure to add a bit of teasing by playing with pressure and taking small breaks to tug at your lips. "You deserve this, baby," he moaned as he continued to taste you. 

You could feel your orgasm building up more and more by the second, but you didn’t want to cum without feeling him inside of you first. “Baby,” you moaned, “please fuck me. I want to cum with you in me.”

Jongho didn’t waste any time as he quickly stood up, pushed the chair away, and unbuckled his belt as he placed kisses on your nose and lips. You pushed his hands away from his throbbing member so you could give him some foreplay, too. You slowly moved your hands up and down his shaft, feathering the touch when it reached his tip.

“Shit,” he inhaled sharply, losing his balancing ever so slightly he had to grip the edges of table to keep him steady, “that feels so fucking good, love.”

You kept going as you slowly inched yourself towards him so your core was now hovering over his hard cock. He placed his hands onto your hips, lining himself up with your entrance.

“Can I?” He asked through heavy breaths.

You nodded, guiding him inside of you. You both let out a hum of release simultaneously, taking a moment to just savour how it felt to be connected in such an intimate way. 

“I never thought our first time together would be in a meeting room,” you joked, tugging on his arm so as to tell him he could start moving. He began thrusting into you steadily, sighs of pleasure dripping from his lips. “It’s fun, though,” you added, with a near ungodly tone as he reached the right spot at that same moment. Your mouth hung agape in pure bliss, your eyes alternating between absorbing his fucked out face and watching how he fucked you.

Your wetness engulfed his cock, Jongho choking on the moans he so desperately was trying to hold back. “I’m so proud of you, taking my cock like this.” He bit down on his lip, hard, hoping it would stop them from escaping. “Baby, I could do this every day,” he said, quickening his pace, “I could live inside this sweet pussy of yours.”

“It’s only yours, Jongho.”

Something about you willingly handing yourself over to him triggered the possessive, animalistic part of him, and he began to thrust into you deeper with one hand reaching up to grip your neck.

“Oh, fuck,” you screamed with a whisper, placing your hand over his on your neck to keep it right where you wanted it, “please, Jongho, more.”

“I might break this table if I do that,” he growled, squeezing your neck a little harder.

“Then just fuck me on the floor.”

Before you knew it, he had your legs thrown over his shoulders, back pressed against the carpeted floor. Who knew how many people had walked on it with their gross, outdoor shoes, but at that moment, you didn’t care. All you wanted was for Jongho to keep fucking you and make you cum for the remainder of the work day. 

“Baby, I’m going to cum soon,” Jongho said, pulling at your ankles to keep you as close to him as possible so he could keep pounding into you relentlessly, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he repeated over and over with each thrust. “Look at you, so perfectly fitting around me.”

A scream began to escape from your mouth, so you threw your forearm up to it to bite on for suppression. Your muffled whines and convulsions underneath of Jongho pushed him further to his climax, his eyes beginning to roll back as your body shook more aggressively. “Fuck, Y/N” he let out a loud grunt with one final, deep thrust, throwing his head back in pure bliss as he filled you up. This final thrust sent you over the edge, flailing beneath him. You screeched quietly, gripping his arm tightly as you spilled your juices down the sides of his cock. The two of you laid there for a moment, heavily breathing as you came down from your highs. 

You looked at each other, beginning to grin as you both reentered the present. You propped yourself up onto your shoulders, leaning up to kiss his cheek gently. He blushed, pulling you up so he could fall back onto his butt and have you seated in his lap. He wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling himself into your neck, peppering kisses along your shoulder.

“So,” you said after a few moments of quiet, “how are we going to explain this when we leave the room?”

[edutainer2022]

An angsty Bereznik-timeline-Jeff story snuck up on me. I got to write it out in the campus bomb shelter, awaiting the strike of Dagger-class missiles. But in the end, a glimmer of hope won over. As always, many thanks go to @janetm74 for incessant support.

MESSAGE

Colonel Tracy walked up to the GDF Headquarters. It was the military training, a familiar grid to fall back on, that got him there. Not through it. Nothing could get him through it. But he kept his back ramrod straight, looked ahead with glassy eyes, put one foot in front of the other and got there. Jeff Tracy was summoned to collect Captain Tracy's, status updated to KIA, personal effects, sent from the Airbase, so Colonel Tracy reported on time, as told. Because Jeff Tracy, the father, wasn't available. Captain Tracy's father, previously Scott Tracy's, Scooter's, and Scotty's father, was prostrate, still and numb, all out of voice or tears, or wits, or strength, or a will to go on, over the charred remains of an F-18 fighter jet, somewhere on the outskirts of a thick Moravian forest. Indefinitely.

They could have just mailed Scott's things home to Kansas, but for some reason his old combat friends Lord Hugh and Major* Casey were adamant he came in person. Not that there could be much classified about well-worn Yale t-shirts, a dress uniform and spare fatigues, faded jeans, Scott's favorite running shoes and, it could be presumed, a copious number of snapshots of little brothers over the years Captain Tracy kept in his locker and in every available pocket at all times. But his friends (and the boy's superiors) insisted, so he showed up. The empty hull of him, at least. It became apparent why when Lord Hugh offered him a seat and entered a personal passcode into a secure comm unit. Val Casey's face was stricken with anguish. Through the cotton cloud of numbness Jeff could distantly register his heart constrict - he could hardly process any more agony those days. Already hit and anticipating a takeover, Scott managed to send out the last message. Jeff knew the drill since the last war: the pilot would access a unique classified frequency they were to use only once - when chances of survival were zero to none. The message was to contain whatever usable intel the pilot could offer on the ground behind enemy lines. It would be recorded into a cloud, scrambled and bounced off different servers so as to not give away the pilot's or the jet location. Jeff was summoned to be played the "unclassified" portion of Scott's last ever holocall. He took Hugh up on his offer of the seat as his knees buckled.

Dark curls were plastered to the boy's forhead, drenched in sweat. Or maybe blood. Scott's face was covered in soot and there was a gush over his brow, but even that combined with the bluish tint of the holo couldn't hide the pallor.

"Hi, guys!"

The ready smile, ever there when Scott was talking or thinking of his brothers, faltered. Haunted eyes squeezed shut briefly against a painful grimace and reappeared, brimming with moisture.

"God! I love you all so much I wish I could just message my heart to you! Allie..."

His son's face mellowed at the mention of the baby brother and in an instant it was Lucy's hologram in a torn and blooded flightsuit, shivering from strain and emotion. And onsetting shock. Val Casey by his side was crying openly.

"Allie! You be good for me, alright?! Listen to Dad and Grandma! Know that I'll always be there for you! ALWAYS! Gordie, you go on training! I'm so proud of you! Go get 'em, Squiddo! Johnny... I know, I know... but hey! I get big brother perks! You're so smart, kid, you can do anything! I'll see you in the stars, I KNOW you'll make astronaut! Virg... Virgie, you listen to me - don't let ANYONE doubt you! Least of all yourself! You do what your heart feels right, ok? I believe in you, brother! Gosh, I could just hug you lot and never let go!"

Jeff's knuckles were white, his grip on the edge of the conference table so tight he could snap a slab off. The expression on the holo-tinged face shifted to something hesitant and so, so impossibly young.

"Dad! I'm so sorry! I let you down... I know you needed me for the Project. It's gonna be AWESOME! Dad... I'm scared... I love you!"

An explosion off screen distorted the signal and the feed was cut off. Jeff was on his feet by then, a flimsy office chair kicked to the side. That didn't last long, though, as he reached both hands to the empty space where a gossamer image of his son just revealed feeling guilty and afraid, all alone, seconds before dying. In a place he ended up only following in his father's footsteps. Jeff's battle with consciousness and gravity was lost before it even started and the hardwood floor rushed close in a flash.

***

[He was in the hallway of their Kansas farmhouse when a flash of auburn practically collided with his chest. Lucy was winded, eyes wild, hands twisting his shirt in a frantic grip.

"Have you found him?! I just checked the treehouse - he's not there! Jeff, we need to find him before dark! It will be too late!!"

He grasped his wife's shoulders instinctively to calm her, but Lucy was adamant, stepping out of his embrace.

"New plan! I'll take the basement - you go on and check the barn! We need to find Scotty!"

With that she was gone, feet pounding down the stairs. He took his cue and went out to the old barn. It was empty. Dark was gathering in the corners, making the bits and pieces of equipment look distorted, grotesque. Menacing. He knew better than just to call the boy's name. Overwhelmed or upset, or tired - little Scooter could hide with the best of them. He searched the nooks and crannies, checked beneath the crates, then made his way to the back wall. It was then that he heard the scream. His son's voice, calling for him. Pleading for Dad's help from beyond the wall. Old wood turned to dark filthy bricks beneath his fists as he tried to let the boy know Dad was there. No matter how hard he flung himself against the wall - it didn't budge as the voice calling to Dad got fainter.]

***

He came to Lord Hugh and Casey propping him from both sides, helping to sit up. Val's gaze was full of worry and reprimand.

"Hey, Jeff! Easy! When was the last time you ate anything? Slept?"

He didn't have time for any such nonsense! Sleep or sustenance stopped being remotely meaningful concepts since they told him his son was dead. But now? He needed to be in a hurry! The vice grip on his friend's hand made the usually cast iron Lord wince. Jeff needed to get up and rush. He needed to go find his son! Before it was too late!

----

*Sometimes I headcanon Casey (and maybe Lee Taylor) might have been demoted a rank for participating in a very off the books (and maybe not entirely smooth) black op of getting Scott out of Bereznik captivity.

[midnight-bay-if]

(Follow up to the RO reaction ask where the MC had to do some fake dating for a mission, but it wasn't with the RO)

This is mostly for Taj and Umbra who were very unhappy about it but didn't directly comment on it to the MC like N as they can't enter their head. Though of course if you want to feel free to do it for everyone, as for the others I guess they may feel sort of guilty for their previous thoughts on it for different reasons and what not.

So... what if immediately after the mission, as soon as it's done and MC is back with the RO, they are like "sorry, do you mind waiting a bit before we chat, I need to take a long shower after that!" and going to do so without waiting? Cause like, they acted super professional and convincing about the whole thing during the mission, but it still made them feel utterly disgusted AND disgusting and they are literally miserable now. And well, it clearly shows just how bad MC feels about the whole thing - they can't even enjoy the feeling of a job well done after that. Though just as a mention, the person they had to do the pretend-date with didn't do anything wrong or bad! I'm really just talking about a MC who feels absolutely awful about even pretending to date someone who isn't the RO even if they were good at their job on the spot.

(So sorry about the wait! Hopefully, this is what you wanted. I turned them into two short stories. :) And they turned out much longer than I was anticipating, haha.)

Taj: Taj leans against the closed bathroom door, quietly listening to the water running from behind it. The moment you returned from the mission, you insisted on showering to wash away the icky feeling left behind by having to play pretend with someone else. Your response humbled them greatly. They felt... embarrassed. They were so angry, ready to pout, groan, and dwell in their self-doubt.

They never even considered the possibility that your experience had been even worse than theirs. Selfish. Idiot.

Taj sneaks a glance at the clock on the wall, pondering. It isn't too far away. If they run, they might make it.

With the decision made, Taj grabs their keys, pulls their favourite hoodie over their head, and rushes out of the apartment door. With quick footsteps honed over years of practice, they rush down the apartment block stairs two steps at a time.

At the bottom, Taj yanks open the main entrance for the apartment block, ready to rush out. The overcast sky doesn't appear particularly inviting, but if they are quick, they should make it before suffering its effects.

Pulling their hood tighter over their head to disguise their ears, they rush out into the street. Their feet pound against the pavement, sprinting to try and beat the trappings of time itself.

As they round the corner, they see the stand being gradually packed up. Taj picks up the pace, desperate to reach the elderly gentleman before he leaves.

"Wait!"

The man turns to look at them, eyes slightly wide as they take in their dishevelled appearance. "Can I help you?" He asks.

Taj inhales deeply, desperately trying to catch their breath as they take in the collection of homemade confectionaries on display. It's a stand you've spoken about often. The old man sells his homemade cakes, jams, bread, and an assortment of other goods all day on his stand to make enough money for his family. You always speak of the town's resilience with such... pride.

"Uh, yes," Taj says, biting their lip as their eyes search the goods. When their eyes are set on what they know to be their favourite treat, they sigh with relief. "I'll have two of those, please," they add slightly shyly.

The old man breaks into a grin. "Of course, of course," he replies, carefully bagging the items. "I've seen you before, haven't I?" He continues, scrutinising them carefully. "With MC."

Taj feels their cheeks warm slightly. "Does MC know everyone in this damn town?" They mumble irritably.

The old man laughs. "Pretty much. Those of us from this town take care of one another. Remember that."

Taj understands when they are being given a warning. "I will."

With that, the old man holds out the bag to them, a warm smile on their face. "Good luck to you, then. I know an apology when I see one."

Taj scoffs, though their eyes twinkle with something akin to amusement before setting off back down the street. They sprint as fast as they can, their eyes deadset on the direction of their destination.

Suddenly, the heavens open up, ready to serve their punishment. Rain pelts hard against them; they feel the water soaking through their hood and shoulders to the skin beneath.

"For fuck's sake."

They try not to bristle, keeping their feet moving despite droplets blurring their vision. Without thinking too hard, Taj shoves the bag beneath their hoodie to keep it safe from the elements.

With the apartment block finally in sight, they rush back into the building and up the stairs with superhuman speed.

Water drips onto the apartment floor as they fling the hoodie over their heads, keeping the bag tightly in their hands. The curls of their hair didn't survive completely unscathed, with water droplets gathering at the ends and dripping down to the floor below.

Taj runs a hand through the dark curls, shaking the water droplets out.

"Taj?"

They freeze, bag clutched tightly. They dare glance in the direction of your voice and see you standing there, towel wrapped firmly against you. They try not to stare. They have something to say first.

"Eh... I just... I-- Fuck," they groan, getting frustrated at their own stuttered speech. They hold out the bag to you instead.

"What's this?" You ask, gently opening the bag. The moment they see your eyes light up at its contents, they breathe a sigh of relief. "Is this from Mr. Dales stall?"

Taj coughs, rubbing their arm. "Yes? I couldn't remember his name. But I remembered you telling me about him."

The feel of your arms pulling them into a tight embrace, with a wide smile on your face, makes the wet hair, the burning in their thighs, and the uncomfortable conversation with a stranger entirely worth it.

"I'm sorry. I acted like a prick today," they mumble, tucking their face into the crook of your shoulder.

"You did?"

Taj scoffs. "In my head, I was an ass," they confess sheepishly. "I don't want to be that with you anymore. I want to do better. I won't always get it right... I'm fucked up, angry and petty, carrying a lifetime of hatred, but I want to try. With you. For you."

You stumble backwards slightly, a smile on your face. "Enough of that, you dummy," you say, caressing their face. "Let's enjoy these together, shall we?"

Umbra: Umbra paces the hallway outside of the bathroom. They hear the water running from the other side of the door, and the sound soothes the aching ball in their chest. It's not enough to stop their feet, but it's still pleasant to listen to. With pale fingers, they prod at the marks of their face, trying to determine whether they still stick in the ugly mask they wore at the event. They don't want to turn it on you, after all. It was for them. The one who prodded at you, laughed with you, dared to whisper so close to your ear...

No, no, no... Do not think of it. It was hard enough to smooth out the lines of their face the first time.

They find their mind catching on the way your lip curled in disgust the instant you returned home. You threw down your bag and coat onto the couch, mumbling and disgruntled. They didn't want to intrude on this moment with yourself, but they heard it regardless.

You didn't like pretending. It felt wrong.

It shames them. Seeing you with someone else created an ugliness in them they chose not to control, all while you were struggling to keep the smile on your face they cherish so greatly. How do they make up for that?

Before Umbrs can even question it, they pick up your mobile phone and search through the contacts, one button at a time. They hit the call button as soon as they see the name they were looking for. They can't afford to talk themselves out of this.

"MC? Is everything okay?" The gruff voice sounds out on the other end after just two rings.

"I... It is not MC."

"Umbra?"

"Yes."

Alek sighs, and Umbra can imagine how they are rubbing their face exasperated. "What is it? Why are you ringing from MC's phone?"

"I do not know what else to do."

"All right. Out with it. What's happened?"

"I... I am realising all the small ways I fall short. MC was unhappy today, and I did not see it. What good am I if I cannot even see that?"

A pause. A shuffle of material. Then, an exhale.

"Tell me about it, kid," Alek whispers, barely forcing the words through his breath. "It's a part of being alive. We don't always see the obvious."

Umbra almost quibbles with that bit of observation, but this conversation isn't about them. It's about you. "How can you tell? How do I ensure MC's happiness?"

"If I knew that, kid, these past ten years wouldn't have been so gruellin' for them."

Umbra shakes their head, clenching their free hand into a fist. "I cannot be you."

"Charming... but you are right. And you already aren't. Look, I don't know what happened today, but sometimes people are just unhappy. It happens. You can't always fix it."

"That doesn't seem fair."

"It isn't," Alek says through a sigh. "Now get off the phone to me and go talk to them. You have a habit of making a mountain out of a mole hill. Whatever it is you feel MC is upset about won't be solved by trapping yourself in your own head."

"I... Yes, I should. I am sorry."

"Stop apologising. You know how MC feels about the apologising."

"Right. Yes. Erm... Thank you, Detective Graves."

"Don't call again."

With that, the line goes dead.

Umbra tucks MC's phone back where they got it, just in time to hear the shower shut off from the bathroom. It doesn't feel like enough time; they still need to prepare what to say, how to express how today has made them feel, or how to prepare themselves to hear how today made you feel.

None of it matters the instant the bathroom door opens, and you are standing there, hair dripping, with a towel wrapped tightly around yourself. You are perfect—you are always so perfect.

"Umbra? Are you... all right?"

Umbra nods, then takes a deep breath. "Yes... Are you?"

MC raises a questioning brow. "Is this about earlier? I'm sorry for my mood. Today was just... a lot, and not a particularly enjoyable experience."

Umbra shakes their head, gently taking your much warmer hand in theirs. The feeling in their chest blooms as their pale, bony hands press against yours, and you do not pull away.

"It scares me," they begin, choking out the words. "The ugliness I feel when I see you smiling with another. It's grotesque."

"Umbra--"

"But I promised to be a person for you," they continue, a smile inching at the corners of their mouth. "I am sorry. I let my ugliness take hold today. You must have felt very alone." Umbra steps forward, pressing their forehead against yours. "If you like, we can talk through today together, or simply curl up together and forget about it all. Whatever you want, I will follow."

[tgmsunmontue]

Caring, Keeping and Collecting Transformers - A Guide 9/?

Maverick is unknowingly surrounded by Transformers. He knows something is up though. Just not quite what it is exactly.

Bradley and Jake, having never met, are embarking on their own journeys and will have to learn to deal with the fact that they've both been adopted by Transformers.

Despite having years more experience, Maverick is no help at all.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT

NINE

                He wakes up early, but the bed is sans Jake Seresin. Hopefully he didn’t kick him or whack him in the face during the night, he’s not used to sharing a bed. Either way, he feels well rested and heads for the shower, hanging his uniform up and hoping the steam will help. It’s got fantastic pressure, which is what he’d expect for Ice, he’s always been particular about his showers. He pulls on his jeans, not bothering with anything more than a white tank, he’s going to need to iron his uniform, the steam not even having any effect on the worst of the creases. He’s a little bummed that he’s going to have to pull on his uniform not even a week into his leave, but balanced against the fact that he now knows for certain his car is a Transformer it’s a small price to pay.

                He shouldn’t be surprised when he walks into the kitchen and Ice gestures toward the garage with his cup of coffee. He pours a cup for himself and heads in the general direction Ice have indicated. He finds Bronco, Dustdrift and Ninja all lounging around in a circle with Mav talking to them; Jake is there as well, eyes wide and mouth split in a grin as he follows their conversation. Bronco looks funny, sitting like a toddler with his legs bent underneath him but he also doesn’t seem as angry or upset so he walks in and settles down beside him.

                “Morning…”

                “Dustdrift is pretty sure that Jetfire’s wings are two days travel north of here. We can go and pick them up after out meeting this morning!” Jake says, and Bradley raises an eyebrow, looks to where Ice is standing in the doorway watching them all with a twist to his lips.

                “Let’s see what the meeting brings about hmm? I imagine the US Navy can probably manage picking up some wings and transporting them here.”

                “I wouldn’t bet on it…” Mav mutters, winking at him and Jake.

…            …            …

                Unlike with Maverick, he doesn’t have to chivy either Bradley or Jake along. They’re both presentable and ready to leave well before Tom actually wants to depart, leaving him yelling at Mav to hurry the fuck up. He tries to ignore Bradley’s eyeroll and smirk, because it hurts a little to have almost a decade of time lost between them. They used to share those looks about Mav when Bradley was a teenager and seeing it now makes his heart ache.

                Finally, Mav is ready, looking disgruntled about having to wear his service uniform but he still looks good and when Mav catches him looking he grins and shoots him a wink. It’s a good thing he did tell Seresin about the status of their relationship, anyone with two eyes and a slightly less-than-straight view of the world would see what there is between him and Mav. Fortunately for them most of their peers and superiors are oblivious, or, definitely in some cases, simply turn a blind eye.

                “I’ll drive,” Tom says, and they all follow him out to his car. He stands there looking at it, wonders if his boring beige sedan is suddenly going to come to life. It’s going to take him a while to not expect everything to have a hidden second-form. Hound is also parked just out in the street, and if a car could look insolent it would look like Hound in that instant. He suspects today is going to be a challenging day.

                “It’s just a car,” Dustdrift says, and their voice is scratchy sounding and Tom thinks it may be the first time he’s heard them speak, but it’s also a relief to know that he’s been in control of his car this entire time and not just had the illusion of control. He doesn’t think he would take it anywhere near as well as both Bradley and Maverick have regarding their favorite modes of transportation.

                “I’m not leaving Bronco here.”

                The look of relief on the blue trucks face is immense and Tom shrugs. Technically he cannot order the Transformers to do anything, not as far as he understands it. There is an unwritten memorandum, and as he understands it the human race is only alive because a particular faction of Transformers seem to prefer them that way.

                “Fine. You and Seresin in Bronco, I’ll go in Hound and Mav, you’re driving my car.”

                “Uh, why do we need all three vehicles? Can’t I take Ninja?”

                “We can’t let Hound or Bronco just drive up to the gate without drivers!” Tom snaps, and of course Mav’s eyes go wide with delight.

                “Why not? Wouldn’t it be great?”

                “No! We’re meant to be keeping their existence a secret, not turning it into material to prank people.”

      ��         “You spoil all my fun…”

                Tom knows half of what Mav says he does simply to wind Tom up and get a reaction, but some days he wishes he could have a more peaceful existence. He knows he’d get bored far too quickly and dismisses the thought usually within seconds, but today he just has the additional worry of something going a certain way which he had never thought was possible. Having Mav know about Transformers is one thing, but to also have Bradley and somehow another young man drawn into it makes the weight of responsibility feel unbearably heavy. He really hopes there is someone higher up he can pass it on to, but is also smart enough to know it’s unlikely, not with his friendship with Mav and relationship with Bradley. They’re going to want him involved in some way at least, even if any final decisions won’t be his because of his potential emotional investment.

…            …            …

                Sunday morning and he’s up early enough to be going to church with his family, and instead he’s on the other side of America, dressed in Admiral Kazansky’s old khakis and pretty sure he’s about to be indoctrinated into something much higher level than he ever expected, especially given his age and rank. He’s thrumming with nerves and excitement, no idea how or why Bradley seems so calm, although he supposes he’s grown up surrounded by all this, so maybe there isn’t the additional novelty factor for him.

                Hound had driven into a specific hangar, the doors opening and closing behind him automatically. Admiral Kazansky’s sedan looks so mundane in the space, and he can tell Captain Mitchell was itching to run around and check everything out and Jake can’t blame him. Wants to do the same and only his training keeping him tightly in control. He follows after Admiral Kazansky and Captain Mitchell, down corridors lined with photos and Bradley is at his side, cool as a cucumber and Jake tries to imitate him.

                “Gentlemen. Welcome.”

                Jake swallows, suddenly very aware that he is by far the lowest rank and also the youngest in the room. There are another eight Admirals of differing levels, and then the fucking Secretary of Defense is there, and he notes even Bradley’s steps falter. Holy shit. This is big. He already knew it was, but this is the proof and he wonders if he’s going to meet the president. Because this is something the president would know about. He follows the instruction to sit and then listens as they all talk, and he tries to follow the conversation.

                What he quickly learns is that Cain is an asshole and that there are two camps of belief in the room that are being voiced. One that the Transformers should be subservient and do what they, the humans, want. Jake thinks that is laughable but keeps his mouth shut. Then there is the second camp who think that they have a partnership, are allies, with the Transformers. And okay, Jake thinks that’s more plausible at least better than the first.

                However he thinks he might need to set up a third camp, where he, as a human, knows about Transformers only by their grace and any relationship they have is not based on how useful they are to each other. At least he doesn’t think so. Sure, Starscream definitely only tolerated Jake in the beginning because he was useful to him, said he’d help find Jetfire’s parts and help rebuild him, or find people that could. He feels it’s shifted a little, suspects that Starscream doesn’t exactly have a lot of experience with humans; he’s seen Bronco and Sally and Ninja now and they’ve got deep loyal streaks and it’s not entrenched in military orders at all. In fact, with Sally and Ninja he’d go so far that they like Maverick because he’s so averse to following orders. It’s something of a revelation.

                “May I ask a question?” Bradley asks, and Jake has missed the last little bit of discussion and is annoyed at himself. Then Bradley simply goes ahead, clearly feeling like he’s immune to anything they could say or do and… holy shit. He guesses they sort of are. “Why are we deciding on anything when the other party who has to agree isn’t present?”

                “The leader of the Autobots is going to be meeting us at the airstrip. We need to provide a united front.”

                Captain Mitchell snorts and doesn’t even try to look apologetic. Admiral Cain looks annoyed simply by the fact that Captain Mitchell and Admiral Kazansky are there and he wonders if there’s a history there; scorned lover or power struggle.

                “With all due respect sir, what weight do our wishes have here? We could all decide to retire from the service as soon as our current posting finishes.”

                Jake slides his eyes to Bradley and then to Admiral Kazansky, because Captain Mitchell has a point, but it somehow also sounds like a threat. He doesn’t want to leave the Navy, however if they ground him? Then what’s the point? He wants to fly.

…            …            …

                “We have a research base located in Fallon, which suits our cover story, which is that we’re sending the both of you to Top Gun. Along with Captain Mitchell. There is also some other training which isn’t so well known about which aligns with your interests.”

                “A research base?”

                “Where we work on understanding the Cybertron technology more in-depth.”

                Bradley frowns, wonders why they simply don’t ask if it’s all meant to be a reciprocal relationship, and a quick glance shows him Mav is thinking the same thing. Ice looks almost bored, his face difficult to read in this type of context, closed off and serious. Jake is looking skeptical which is reassuring, he hopes they’re on the same page at least.

                “Of course we want to utilize your skillsets for as long as you’re willing to share them with us…”

                “Our what? Sir," Mav asks, the sir tacked on like an afterthought and god Bradley loves and hates him.

                “Clearly there is something about the three of you which draws Transformers to you, we’d be interested to see if that is biological or –”

                “You want to run tests on them?” Ice asks, his voice cold and dripping disdain and huh, this might be part of why he has the callsign he does.

                “If we refuse?” Mav asks, his eyes narrowed, and Bradley is glad they’re both asking, because he feels like this is a dangerous area to start arguing with his superiors. Ice and Mav will both ensure anything that is proposed is above board and he’s so glad that they’re there right now.

                “Everything is completely voluntary.”

                Bradley holds back a groan, because that’s like saying breathing is voluntary, and they can stop any time.

[spywhitney]

How I sleep knowing I'll never trust anyone that hates Sydney but worships Richie:

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[dragonsarecats]

To be fair CF is just as much about found family than VW

Hi anon! I'm gonna link the post I talked about the Golden Deer here for clarity's sake lol.

I think when discussing themes of found family in different three houses routes, it's important to talk about Byleth. In a game where the single, main variable between possible futures is Byleth's interference, it means the story has to be written in a particular way--I mentioned this before when talking about character supports and endings; each character needs to be able to have a romantic ending with Byleth, which affects how their supports are written. In the case of the Lord's, this means you're given tangible reasons why you should've chosen them.

I mean. Let's be real here. Claude has the highest survivability rate of any character in the base game. He can't die if you're completing Verdant Wind (for obvious reasons), or Blue Lions. He's heavily implied to live to see another day in Silver Snow, and you can spare him in Crimson Flower! Edelgard and Dimitri die without the professor's stabilizing influence--but Claude? What does he lose without the professor.

That's sort of how I determine subtler themes of each route in a way--by comparing what you get with and without Byleth.

So when I argue that Verdant Wind is the most about found family, I mean it thematically; the other routes don't have tangible less found family, but without Byleth members of the Golden Deer just blatantly disappear unrecruited post time skip in several routes!

Without Byleth, the option for found family is removed for Claude in a big way, I personally feel, and not just by full recruitment runs lol. Not completely, of course--even in Crimson Flower a recruited Lorenz laments having to face off against Claude and Hilda is willing to die in defense of him and the city--but enough that it was blatantly shocking to me that if you don't recruit Marianne, she does not appear at all post time skip, no exceptions.

In a narrative sense, perhaps slightly unshocking; but in a practical sense? This leaves Claude without a healer.

Claude can't hold onto all his Deer even if you don't recruit any of them in the Academy phase. Silver Snow, Azure Moon, Crimson Flower--Marianne will always be gone; consistent, non variable. Depending on the route other characters like Lorenz might disappear as well.

The themes of found family are prevalent in all the routes, but since each route is pretty much defined by the Lord who leads it, I feel as though their personal relationship with the found family is most defining, if that makes sense.

People stand by Edelgard, Dimitri, and even Rhea for better, or for worse. Even recruited, characters like Felix make it abundantly clear that switching sides doesn't change the immense emotional attachment they have to their original lord.

This just. Isn't true for Claude.

Without Byleth, he doesn't get to keep everyone together. Without Byleth Hilda is recruitable in two routes. The idea that you could ever do the same with Hubert or Dedue is blatantly laughable.

Byleth's presence is what enables Edelgard, Dimitri, and Rhea to remain the most of themselves, if that makes sense. Edelgard's war strategy in Crimson Flower is a lot less aggressive and scorched earth then it is in the other two routes because she's had the professor as an emotional rock. Similarly for Dimitri, he's able to recover because Byleth is there to keep him alive and safe. And then Rhea will blatantly die in the Verdant Wind route where she doesn't in Silver Snow. Byleth, in every sense of the word, keeps these three characters alive and well.

But without her? They still inspire loyalty and devotion--unquestionable, again, if no recruitment takes place. Dimitri, Edelgard, and Rhea can all face up against you as enemies with the full force of their houses/allies (save for, oddly, Annette).

Claude does not.

Claude's whole route is about learning to trust others in a way that allows them to trust him. The Deer are devoted to Claude in Verdant Wind in a way they just, textually aren't otherwise, and that's due to Byleth's influence, both as a Professor to these individual students, and to Claude.

When I say that Verdant Wind is the most found family thematically to me, I mean it at a very base level. Claude knows he doesn't have what Dimitri and Edelgard seem to take for granted. It seems almost effortless, in Verdant Wind, the loyalty and devotion he inspires in his friends despite how often you, as Byleth, are told that Claude appears to be an untrustworthy and sneaky individual.

But it's easy to see in routes where you don't chose him that without Byleth, that image mantains. Claude is an outsider. And maybe he doesn't need Byleth in the way the other lords do to survive or achieve his dream (after all, there's nothing saying he can't open diplomacy with his former classmates after he goes back to Almyra so long as he lives to do so), but just as Byleth is uniquely able to be a peer to the Golden Deer, so can Claude uniquely trust and gain the trust of his house in full.

It's not as dramatic as the other two houses, and I think it's the point. Edelgard and Dimitri have already built a solid foundation of devotion and loyalty. Ferdinand and Felix (your "rival" characters in those houses) are loyal without Byleth, even if Ferdinand claims it's to guide her or if Felix complains every step of the way. Lorenz isn't. In Verdant Wind, you sort of take it for granted that everyone will be there at the reunion if they survived the Academy phase. Of course they will--they promised, didn't they?

But outside Verdant Wind, it's clear to see that you as the player took it for granted. And that's why I think Verdant Wind is thematically the most found family. It's not because the other routes don't love each other as much or aren't as complex or there isn't devotion. It's because fundamentally Verdant Wind is about Claude, for the first time in his life, having a group of people he can rely on and who will rely on him without hesitation. It's about the formation of found family, and how Claude doesn't need it to achieve his dreams, but man, does it give him something to achieve those dreams for.

[sysig]

Some scribbles :) (Patreon)

[gynaiko]

ㅤㅤㅤSTELLA   IS   NOT   A   GOOD   MOTHER,   AT   ALL;   QUITE   NEGLECTFUL,   ACTUALLY.   THE   KIND   TO   SAY   ‘THAT’S   NICE,   DEAR’   WHILE   NOT   EVEN   LOOKING   AT   VIA.   HOWEVER,   I   DON’T   SUBSCRIBE   TO   FANON’S   GENERAL   INTERPRETATION   WHERE   SHE’S   APPARENTLY   WILLING   TO   KILL   HER   JUST   TO   SPITE   STOLAS.   WE   STILL   HAVEN’T   SEEN   HER   INTERACT   WITH   OCTAVIA   BUT   IF   SHE   TRULY   HATED   HER,   SHE   WOULD   HAVE   THROWN   A   FIT   WHEN   ANDRE   POINTED   OUT   VIA   WOULD   GET   EVERYTHING,

ㅤㅤㅤ&   WHEN   SHE   WAS   SCREECHING   AT   STOLAS,   ASKING   IF   HE   WAS   ‘TURNING   HER   ( VIA )   AGAINST   HER   ( STELLA )’   —   CLEARLY,   SHE   CARES   FOR   VIA.   AGAIN,   SHE’S   NOT   A   GOOD   MOTHER,   PERHAPS   NOT   CODDLING   OR   ‘MOTHERLY’   BUT   ENOUGH   THAT   VIA   HAS   GOOD   MEMORIES   OF   HER   ( PER   THE   LOO   LOO   LAND   EPISODE ),

ㅤㅤㅤREAD   THE   TAGS   FOR   MY   TINFOIL   HAT   RAMBLINGS ,

[seaofreverie]

I actually made 9 drawings in 2 days

[toastsnaffler]

I slept rly deeply last night even tho it took me a while to get to sleep but I think that was bc I had acid reflux and I'd been playing videogames too late not anything else.... still only got 6 hrs but doing pretty okay all things considered 😚

[adore-gregor]

study smart not hard (altough both is best actually) this saying is so true