#I love this fic but I keep struggling to write it

[zyafics-recs]

reblogging comment review by @zyafics

im currently writing rn and i love gigi's dialogues the most, so i'm back here to read and get inspired from her amazing words (long annotations below) ⬇️

Neither of you ever mentioned that night again, as if it had never happened.

pussy

Self-sufficiency had long been your norm. Growing up with Luke meant mastering the art of tending to your bruises from a young age. 

my poor baby who had to take care of herself for too long (love love this sentence)

Every time your paths crossed, it dragged you back to that regretful moment—the feeling of his hands, the memory of his presence inside you—

the butterflies i felt from reading this line

“Yeah, yeah, isn’t it always?” he replied, dismissively waving a hand, “Just try not to get shot this time.” "You think you're so fucking funny, don't you?"

i love their banters fr

“At least they’re not murder—”

one thing i love is how this fic is similar but deviates from the original canon plot and i love that you managed to capture the same essence!

"What are you doing?" you asked, your brow furrowing in bemusement as you eyed his outstretched arms.“Helping you.”

when the bare minimum got me kicking my feet 🤭

As you entered the motel lobby, the air was thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener.

this is such a standout line when i first read it cause i love how u captured the atmosphere of cheap motels (LOL)

When you reached the door to room, he released your hand with a reluctant sigh.

CAUSE HE DIDN'T WANT TO LET GO OUT HER HAND 🫠

"Yeah, well, appearances can be deceiving," you replied, trying to keep your tone light despite the underlying edge of irritation. "But let's save up the pity for later. I'm more interested in asking you why the fuck you got just one room with one bed."

the one BED TROPE YES

In the next second, you were gasping for breath as Rafe's hands closed around your throat in a vice-like grip. Shock and fear surged through you, your body instinctively fighting against his hold as you struggled to break free.

one thing i love more than the one bed trope is the nightmare one that follows it 😈

"Fuck, fuck," he whispered, his voice trembling with fear and disbelief. "Shit, shit. I didn't mean to—I didn't know—"His words were choked off by a strangled sob as he buried his face in his hands, his entire body shaking with the force of his sobs.

MY POOR BABY OHMYGOD

But then, instinct kicked in, and you reached out to him, wrapping your arms around him.He practically dragged you into his lap, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other tangled in your hair. He only shook his head, his sobs growing louder as he buried his face where your neck and shoulder met, his entire body wracked with tremors. All you could do was hold him close, offering whatever comfort you could. Eventually, his sobs began to subside, his breathing evening out as he clung to you like a lifeline. 

i love love LOVE how you write intimate moments like this

You held him close, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, “Better?”Rafe nodded against your shoulder; his breathing still ragged but gradually steadying. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the soft sound of your heartbeat. "Yeah, I think so."

his voice so soft, just above her heartbeat? shut up your writing EATS

It served as another reminder that despite his tough exterior, he was just as human as any of you, with fears and insecurities that ran deep. And it terrified you, because up until last month Rafe Cameron was not capable of emotions to you, only violence. 

YOUR CHARACTERIZATION OF RAFE I LOVE SO SO SO MUCH

Rafe hesitated, elbows dropping to the table as he searched for the right words. "I don't know," he repeated, his voice softer this time. "You just...are pretty, Maybank, everyone knows that." You felt like there was more to the story.

yeah 🤨

Rafe's jaw clenched, his expression turning steely as he locked onto your gaze, "I don’t want to be your fucking friend, Maybank," he retorted, his tone laced with irritation. "I'm protecting myself. And if you can't handle that, then maybe you're the one who needs to reevaluate things."

damn shit, because he wants to be ur bf 😉

“No, I fucking won’t. You’re the one who punched me on that ship, your guards were the ones who shot me, your father is the one who wants me dead,” your lips quirked in a small, humorless smile, “And you want to talk about protecting yourself?”

me, reader, "damn that's so long ago why won't u forget about it" me, irl, *i've held year-long grudges against people for stealing my pencils*

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched into every line of his face. "You have no idea what it's like. To carry that weight, to know that everything you touch turns to shit.” His voice was probing, his eyes scanning your face with a scrutiny that made you want to run out the door.  “And you—Shit, you’re just searching for some confirmation that I am as horrible as everyone’s made me out to be. Newsflash, I am."

he's so insecure 🥺

“Right,” You swallow, finding the carpet of the room suddenly all too interesting, “Good enough to fuck, not to trust.”

DAMNNNN

Without another word, he closed the distance between you in a single fluid motion, his movements graceful yet filled with an underlying urgency. His hands found their way to your face, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. His touch wavered between tenderness and roughness, with soft, gentle kisses blending seamlessly with fervent, desperate ones, as if he was unable to choose between cherishing the moment and giving in to his desires completely. You melted into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. It felt different from the first time you kissed. Less violent, less primal, more…intimate. It was as if he was trying to convey everything he couldn't put into words, everything he had been keeping bottled up inside, and you welcomed it. 

INTIMATE INTIMATE INTIMATEEE 💘

“You can’t kiss me to avoid questions, Rafe.”"I know," he murmured, "It's just easier than talking."

reminds me of that specific scene in 10 things i hate about you

"I know," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with emotion. "But for now, can we just...be?"You nodded, "Yeah," you whispered, "For now, we can just...be."

my poor babies i love; they r unfortunately stuck in a situationship 😭

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - two

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

WARNINGS: maybank!reader x sorta canon!rafe; doesn't exactly follow the real plot line but...it does?; am i turning this into a series? maybe.

word count: 6k...

Neither of you ever mentioned that night again, as if it had never happened. It couldn't have happened; it must have been a figment of your overactive imagination. 

There was no way in hell you would have let Rafe Cameron have you on top of a dining table, living up to the derogatory "dirty pogue" nickname. You were better than that. You knew better.

Despite that...You found it impossible to look at him for the next forty-eight hours. In fact, facing yourself in the mirror became a challenge, so much so that you refused his help in tending to your wound. Self-sufficiency had long been your norm. Growing up with Luke meant mastering the art of tending to your bruises from a young age. 

Initially, there was an undeniable tension between you and Rafe.

Every time your paths crossed, it dragged you back to that regretful moment—the feeling of his hands, the memory of his presence inside you—but there were bigger things at stake, and so, you pushed the nagging feelings aside, focusing on one thing only: getting out.

You and Rafe didn’t mix, oil and water, two stubborn bastards with heavy emotional baggage. Sometimes it was tricky to work together, but other days, it flowed so easily it gave you whiplash. In the time that followed, you both worked tirelessly to plan your getaway, meticulously plotting every detail to ensure success and not another round of bullets. Your job was to sit around and act innocent, while Rafe had to ensure you had a way out and enough money to pay someone off. Avoiding Ward was easy enough since he spent most of his time in Guadalupe.

Rafe scoffed; his arms crossed over his chest as he eyed the small, weather-beaten boat skeptically. "I'm not getting into that piece of shit. No fucking way," he declared, voice dripping with disdain.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the knot of frustration building in your chest. He was so fucking insufferable. 

"Oh, so you've got a better suggestion?" you shot back in defiance.

He shot you a glare, but you can't help but notice how his eyes caught the shimmer of the clear night sky, "I do," he retorted, gesturing towards a sleek motorboat moored nearby. "That one looks like it might get us somewhere without sinking halfway."

You followed his gaze, your entire face scrunching up as you took in the sight of the motorboat. It was certainly more modern and well-maintained than the rusty old dinghy you had been eyeing, but something about it made you uneasy.

"Hell no?” you hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip nervously. "It seems a bit...too much. We don't want to draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves."

Rafe rolled his eyes, his frustration evident in the way he tugged at his hair, "C'mon,” he scoffed, his voice tinged with impatience. "This isn't the time to be playing it safe. We need to get out of here, and that boat is our best chance."

You bit your lip, torn between your instincts and Rafe's seemingly reckless impulsiveness. On one hand, you didn't want to take any unnecessary risks, but on the other hand, you knew that time was running out and you needed to act fast. Ward was coming back to the island soon enough and if he dragged Rafe away with him…you were a lost cause. There was no third chance. 

“What about the guards?” your voice dropped to a whisper as you glanced around nervously. The last thing you needed was someone overhearing your plans.

Rafe’s stare flickered with a hint of irritation,  “I’ve got it covered,” Your skepticism must have shown on your face because he stepped closer, lowering his voice, “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but I’m not about to let us get caught. I’ve been dealing with Ward’s security my whole life. I know how to slip past them.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration, “Fine. But if this goes south, it’s on you.”

“Yeah, yeah, isn’t it always?” he replied, dismissively waving a hand, “Just try not to get shot this time.”

"You think you're so fucking funny, don't you?"

"Keep your voice down."

The tension between you two was palpable, but there was no time to dwell on it. You both turned your attention back to the task at hand. The sleek motorboat gleamed in the fading light, its potential for escape glinting like a promise of freedom. As night fell, you both moved with practiced stealth, with a reluctant nod, you followed him towards the sleek motorboat. The docks were eerily quiet, save for the gentle lapping of the waves against the hulls of the boats. Your heart pounded in your chest as you kept a lookout for any sign of the guards. Rafe moved with the confidence that you envied, quickly untying the boat and preparing it for departure. You glanced around nervously, half-expecting to hear the shout of a guard at any moment. Every shadow seemed like a threat, every noise a potential alarm.

“Hurry up,” you hissed, glancing over your shoulder.

“Calm the fuck down,” Rafe muttered, though he did quicken his pace. “We’re almost ready.”

Your anxiety spiked. This was it. No turning back. Rafe started the engine, the low rumble sounding like a roar in the silent night. You winced, half-expecting the noise to draw attention. The sound was louder than you expected. But luck seemed to be on your side.

“C’mon,” He whispered urgently, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of trouble, “Get in.”

You climbed aboard, your hands shaking as you settled into the seat. 

“Go!” you urged, glancing back at the docks nervously. Rafe didn’t need to be told twice. The boat lurched forward, cutting through the water with surprising speed. As the island receded into the distance, you felt a surge of hope. For the first time in months, freedom was within reach.

As Rafe guided the boat out of the harbor, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. 

“See? I told you it’d be fine,” Rafe said, a hint of smugness in his voice.

“Just keep your eyes on the water,” you retorted, refusing to give him the satisfaction of being right.

He adjusted the throttle, the boat picking up speed. "Relax, Maybank. Enjoy the ride," he said, his tone dripping with mock concern.

You shot him a withering look, gripping the edge of your seat. "Just focus on getting us out of here in one piece.”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, a muscle in his jaw ticking. "You think I don't know what I'm doing?"

"Frankly, I don’t care what you think you know. Just keep us moving," you snapped back, your voice tense.

Rafe's hands tightened on the wheel, but he said nothing. The silence between you was a common thing, the hum of the engine the only sound cutting through the night. Minutes passed, each one stretching longer than the last. The coastline was a distant memory now, the open water vast and foreboding. You kept scanning the horizon, every wave a potential threat.

"You're acting like we're about to get ambushed by pirates," Rafe finally said, his tone lighter but edged with irritation.

"Better safe than sorry," you muttered, refusing to meet his gaze.

Rafe let out a sharp laugh. "Always so paranoid. That's what gets you in trouble."

You whipped your head around to glare at him. “No, your family got me in trouble. In case you’ve forgotten.”

His face hardened, the easy bravado slipping for just a moment, “Huh, right. ‘Cause your friends are such fucking saints”

“At least they’re not murder—”

You cut yourself off before you said it, but the damage was done anyways. Rafe's jaw tightened, the muscle there twitching as he ground his teeth, lips pressed into a thin, unforgiving line. He didn't respond verbally, but the anger radiating from him was answer enough to you.

He turned his attention back to the horizon, his grip on the wheel tightening until his knuckles were white. The boat's engine roared louder as he increased the speed, the vessel slicing through the water with renewed urgency. The waves splashed higher, and the night air became colder, but Rafe didn't seem to notice. His focus was absolute. Yeah, he was pissed.

What could you possibly say? Apologize? There was no way in hell you were apologizing to him. Not after everything his father had put you through. If anyone owed an apology, it was him. And you knew you'd see the world end before Rafe Cameron ever uttered those words. It was infuriating. There he was taking a step forward, leaving his loyalty to Ward behind and he still refused to show remorse if not between four walls with you. Never out in the open, never too loud.

The sound of the engine became a steady thrum, drowning out any other noise, as if creating a barrier between you and the rest of the world. You sat in silence, each lost in your thoughts, the weight of the past pressing down on you like a lead blanket. It was done. And although you wished things had been differently, they weren’t. 

Despite the chill in the air, sweat prickled at the back of your neck, tension coiling in your muscles. The night stretched on, like a never-ending path.

After what felt like an eternity, a sliver of light appeared on the horizon, signaling the approach of dawn. You breathed a sigh of relief, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. The worst was over, for now at least.

Rafe glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, “We’re almost there. Keep an eye out for any patrol boats," he instructed, his voice curt and businesslike. He was all focus still, facade slipping away to reveal that calculating side that had always unnerved you. 

You nodded, scanning the waters diligently. The further you went, the more the reality of your situation sank in. You were out there, in the middle of nowhere, relying on a Cameron to get you to safety. The irony was almost laughable.

“Where are we heading?" you asked, breaking the silence. Your voice was softer, the edge of anger dulled by exhaustion.

Rafe glanced at you, his expression unreadable. "We'll head south, find somewhere to lay low for a while. I've got contacts who owe me favors."

“Uh? We’re not going back to The Outer Banks?”

He shook his head, attention fixed on the horizon. “No. Not unless you want to get killed.”

The Outer Banks, once your home, now felt like a trap waiting to snap shut. You should’ve figured Ward would send someone after you the minute he figured you were gone. A loose end. Shills ran down your body as you remembered your close encounter with death. 

"Your contacts won’t sell us out?"

He smirked, though there was no humor in it. "They know better than to cross me. Criminal, remember?”

You sighed, ready to jump into the water if it meant a little space from the unbearable atmosphere. Despite everything, you couldn't shake the nagging feeling of guilt that twisted in your gut. 

“You know what I meant, Rafe.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Listen,” you began, your voice faltering as you struggled to find the right words. He glanced at you, his expression guarded, but you pressed on, determined to break through the wall of resentment that had formed between you, “I don’t care, okay? Not right now. What matters is that you’re here, not with him.”

Rafe's face softened slightly; the hard edges of his demeanor were momentarily blunted by your words. He looked away, his jaw working as if he were chewing over something in his mind. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more subdued than before.

“If you say so.”

As you drew nearer to the shore, details of the island began to come into focus. Lush greenery blanketed the landscape, punctuated by towering palm trees swaying gently in the breeze. It was oddly like the place you’d been stuck in for months, but this time, there was no sense of dread in you. The boat slowed as Rafe expertly maneuvered it into a small cove, sheltered from prying threats by rocky outcrops and overhanging foliage. With a soft thud, the vessel came to a stop, the engine sputtering into silence.

Once he was done, he stepped onto the water, knees deep as the sandy shore still lay a little ahead.  You blinked in confusion as he turned to you, his arms open wide in a gesture that left you momentarily perplexed. The water laps gently against the sides of the boat, its surface reflecting the golden hues of the setting sun.

"What are you doing?" you asked, your brow furrowing in bemusement as you eyed his outstretched arms.

“Helping you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his simple gesture of assistance. It took a moment for his words to register, and when they did, a faint blush tinged your cheeks at your slowness. In all fairness, you weren’t used to this side of Rafe. You’d only seen it a few times and it was…something else entirely.

“Right.”

As Rafe's hand brushed against your waist while helping you out of the boat, your skin prickled in goosebumps, despite your efforts to remain composed. You quickly brushed off the sensation, chalking it up to nerves from the situation. With a grateful nod, you stepped onto the sandy shore, feeling the warm grains shift beneath your feet. The island stretched out before you, its landscape dotted with lush vegetation and towering trees. It was larger than you had anticipated, much bigger than Ward’s private hell.

"We should find a place to sleep,” you said, turning to Rafe as you scanned the horizon for any signs of civilization.

He nodded in agreement, his gaze following yours as he surveyed the landscape. "Let's head towards the center of the island. There should be some motels.”

With a shared nod, you set off along the sandy shore, the waves crashing against the beach providing a rhythmic backdrop to your footsteps. The warm, humid air carried the scent of salt and seaweed, adding to the coastal ambiance. As you walked, an uneasy feeling crept over you, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling, maybe it was just the paranoia that had become like second nature to you over the past year.

After a while, you noticed a winding path leading into the dense foliage of the island's interior. Without a word, you and Rafe followed it, venturing deeper into the heart of the island. The sounds of civilization faded, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds. 

Finally, after what felt like hours of walking, you emerged into a clearing. Before you stood a beat up motel, its faded paint and weather-beaten facade blending seamlessly into the surrounding landscape.

"This should do," you said, nodding towards the building, "I guess."

“Yeah. Good for a night or two, my contact won’t be here till then.”

As you entered the motel lobby, the air was thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener. Rafe followed closely behind you, his expression unreadable as he glanced around the dimly lit room. You approached the front desk, where a bored-looking clerk sat slouched behind the counter, flipping through a magazine with half-hearted interest.

"Hi there," Rafe said, flashing a charming smile as he leaned casually against the counter. "My wife and I are looking for a room for the night."

His what? Your eyes widened in surprise, but you quickly masked your reaction, playing along with his impromptu act. It was obvious it wasn't the first time Rafe had pulled a stunt like this, and you had to admit, he had a knack for getting what he wanted. To pretend and lie his way out.

The clerk glanced up from his magazine, peeking over the two of you with mild curiosity. "Sure thing," he said, his tone disinterested. "How many nights?"

"One for now," Rafe replied smoothly, reaching into his pocket to produce a wad of cash that you hadn't even realized he had. It was a substantial amount, more than enough to cover the cost of survival for at least two weeks. 

The clerk took the cash without comment, handing Rafe a key with a grunt of acknowledgment. "Room 203," he said, gesturing towards a staircase in the corner of the lobby. "Upstairs, second door on the left."

"Thanks," Rafe said, pocketing the key with a nod of gratitude. He turned to you; his expression unreadable. "Let’s go, baby.”

Baby?

He must've been out of his goddamn mind. His hand found yours, rough fingers intertwining with yours in a gesture that felt oddly intimate. You glanced at him, confused, but he simply squeezed your hand reassuringly, focused on the hallway ahead.

When you reached the door to room, he released your hand with a reluctant sigh. That always happened with him, there was always something new you couldn’t pinpoint, but eventually got used to. The charming, panty-dropping posture was gone in an instant, replaced by his usual brooding demeanor as he unlocked the door and pushed it open, revealing a modest but comfortable-looking room.

“After you.”

You swallowed your surprise at his manners and stepped into the room, grateful for the relative privacy it offered. Rafe followed close behind, closing the door behind him with a soft click. It was sparsely furnished, with a queen-sized bed dominating the space and a small television mounted on the wall opposite. A worn armchair sat in the corner, and a narrow window offered a glimpse of the night sky outside.

"It’s a fucking dump,” Rafe said, his tone light but with an underlying note of exhaustion. "But it'll do for now."

You sank onto the edge of the bed with a weary sigh “Better than my room back home.”

“Really?”

"Don't act so surprised," you said with a wry smile, a hint of defiance creeping into your tone. "We're not exactly living in luxury over there."

You could see the realization dawn on Rafe's face as if he’d forgotten your background, “Didn’t think it was that bad for you.”

"Yeah, well, appearances can be deceiving," you replied, trying to keep your tone light despite the underlying edge of irritation. "But let's save up the pity for later. I'm more interested in asking you why the fuck you got just one room with one bed."

“I can sleep on the floor, relaaax.”

You shoot him a skeptical look, eyebrow raised in disbelief. "Seriously?" you ask, a hint of incredulity coloring your voice. "You'd actually sleep on the floor?"

He shrugged, "Why not? It's not like I haven't slept in worse places."

You didn’t want to delve into that. Instead, you only studied him for a moment, searching for any hint of insincerity in his expression. To your surprise, you found none. Moments like these reminded you that he was human, and you hated it.

“Okay.”

With a weary sigh, you rose from the bed and began to remove your shoes, the events of the day finally catching up with you. Exhaustion settled into your bones, dragging you down like an unbearable weight.

Rafe watched you for a moment before turning away to rummage through spare sheets and pillows, preparing a makeshift bed. There was no time to change clothes; you had left the little you had behind. As you slipped beneath the covers and closed your eyes, you couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the calm before the storm. It felt too easy.

You heard the rustle of sheets as he settled onto the floor, making himself as comfortable as possible, “Don’t fucking snore, Cameron.”

Rafe chuckled softly, the rare sound carrying through the darkness of the room. "Wouldn't dream of it, Maybank.”

Hours later, you woke suddenly, your heart pounding in your chest, the remnants of a nightmare still clinging to the edges of your consciousness. For a moment, you lay there in the darkness, disoriented and trying to make sense of your surroundings. Then, you heard it—a low, murmured voice coming from the other side of the room. Turning towards the source of the sound, you saw Rafe lying on the makeshift bed on the floor, his face twisted in a grimace of pain. 

He was tossing and turning restlessly, his brow furrowed as he muttered incomprehensible words under his breath. Concern gnawed at your gut as you watched him, the sight of him trapped in a nightmare and it weirdly stirred something protective within you. Despite everything, despite the walls he put up, you didn’t like to see him in pain. It felt so familiar, and for a second you were back home, in your room, rocking yourself back and forth after waking up in hysterical screams.

Moving quietly, you slipped out of bed and crossed the room to kneel beside him. Gently, you reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake.

"Rafe," you whispered softly, trying to rouse him from his restless slumber. "Hey, wake up."

In the next second, you were gasping for breath as Rafe's hands closed around your throat in a vice-like grip. Shock and fear surged through you, your body instinctively fighting against his hold as you struggled to break free.

"R-Rafe!" you gasped, your voice coming out in a strangled whisper as you clawed at his hands, desperate for release. But he was lost in the grip of his nightmare, his grip unyielding as he continued to squeeze, his eyes wide and unseeing.

Panic took over you as the world blurred around the edges, darkness creeping into your vision while your lungs burned for air. Frantically, you tried to call out to him, to wake him from whatever hellish nightmare held him in its grasp, but your voice was little more than a choked rasp, "Rafe!"

Then, as suddenly as it began, the pressure around your throat vanished, leaving you gasping and wheezing for breath as you collapsed against the bed. Blinking away the tears that pricked at your eyes, you looked up to see him kneeling beside you, his hands shaking as he stared at you with wide, horrified eyes.

"Fuck, fuck," he whispered, his voice trembling with fear and disbelief. "Shit, shit. I didn't mean to—I didn't know—"

His words were choked off by a strangled sob as he buried his face in his hands, his entire body shaking with the force of his sobs. It was a startling sight, seeing the usually composed and confident Rafe Cameron reduced to this, his vulnerability laid bare for you to see. For a moment, you were frozen, unsure of what to do or say in the face of such raw emotion. But then, instinct kicked in, and you reached out to him, wrapping your arms around him.

He practically dragged you into his lap, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other tangled in your hair. He only shook his head, his sobs growing louder as he buried his face where your neck and shoulder met, his entire body wracked with tremors. All you could do was hold him close, offering whatever comfort you could. Eventually, his sobs began to subside, his breathing evening out as he clung to you like a lifeline. 

You held him close, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, “Better?”

Rafe nodded against your shoulder; his breathing still ragged but gradually steadying. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the soft sound of your heartbeat. "Yeah, I think so."

You remained silent, holding him close as he slowly calmed down. The weight of his body against yours was oddly comforting, grounding you in the present moment and pushing back the memories of his violent outburst just moments before.

After a while, Rafe pulled away slightly, his eyes red-rimmed but clear as he looked up at you "I didn't mean to hurt—”

You reached out and brushed a stray lock of his blonde hair from his sweaty forehead, your touch gentle and reassuring. "I know," you whispered softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "It was just a nightmare. I have them too.”

You don't know why you offer him that solace.

"You do?"

You nodded, though you knew he couldn't see it in the dim light. 

"Yeah," you admitted, your voice soft but steady. "They’re pretty bad too.”

There was a brief pause, filled only with the sound of your quiet breathing and the distant hum of the night outside. Then, Rafe spoke again, his voice tinged with curiosity, "What do you dream about?"

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. But something in Rafe's earnest expression urged you to be honest, to let down your guard just this once, “Luke. You?”

Rafe's immediate reaction was defensive, hands pulling away from your body, “Doesn't matter."

You felt stupid for asking him such a personal thing. He wasn't like you.

“Do you want to sleep in bed with me? It might be better than the floor."

"I'm fine on the floor. Don't worry about me."

But you weren't about to let him off the hook that easily. With a sigh, you reached out and gently grasped his arm, turning him to face you again, "Rafe," you said, voice borderline pleading, “Just sleep on the bed. Okay?"

For a moment, he hesitated, his gaze flickering between you and the bed, but with a reluctant sigh, he nodded, his defenses crumbling. 

"Okay, okay," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Fine."

With that, he rose from the floor and cautiously joined you on the bed, his usual bravado replaced by a rare hesitancy. You shifted slightly to make room for him, and as he settled beside you, a wave of warmth and comfort washed over you, “Don’t snore.”

“Not more than you do.”

The rest of the night passed in a blur of fitful sleep and restless dreams, but somehow, with Rafe by your side, it felt more bearable. When morning finally came, you awoke to find he was already gone, his side of the bed cold, no traces of his presence, and a messy scribbled note left behind on the bedside table.

"Picking up food and clothes, brb. Don't open the door."

You felt relieved that he hadn't disappeared without a word and was instead putting in the effort to rely on you. Deep down, you knew he had left as soon as he woke up, probably sprinting out of the room to avoid waking you and having any awkward confrontations about last night. It was going to be a long day, especially if he was determined to hide his emotions and weaknesses. You knew the old, bad Rafe Cameron would make a reappearance.

Pushing aside your conflicting emotions, you rose from the bed and stretched. The events of the previous night began to fade into the background as you focused on the task at hand: a shower. You stank. It had been two days since you had washed, and the thought of having gone to sleep in such a state made you want to hurl. You’d have to ask for another set of fresh sheets if you stayed another night.

As you stepped into the bathroom, the warm water cascading over your skin felt like a soothing balm, washing away the remnants of fear and tension from the previous night. The steam filled the small space, enveloping you like a comforting embrace as you took your time, allowing the water to ease the knots of stress from your muscles. You focused on the simple act of washing away the dirt and grime, letting the familiar routine ground you.

Yet, even as you lathered soap onto your skin, your mind couldn't help but drift back to Rafe, to the way he had clung to you in the darkness, his vulnerability laid bare. It served as another reminder that despite his tough exterior, he was just as human as any of you, with fears and insecurities that ran deep. And it terrified you, because up until last month Rafe Cameron was not capable of emotions to you, only violence. 

You stepped out of the shower, the steam still lingering in the air and with a towel wrapped snugly around your body, you stepped back into the main room of the motel, feeling refreshed.

“Huh, good morning to you too.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, “Fuck!”

Rafe stood leaning against the doorway, something similar to a playful smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he watched your startled reaction. His arms were laden with bags of groceries and a few articles of clothing.

"Didn't mean to scare you. Just wanted to make sure you were alive in there."

You stared at him incredulously, “Turn around!”

He scoffed, walking into the room as he closed the door with his foot, “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

He said it so casually, it irked you. As if you two hadn’t been purposely ignoring that night ever happened. You shot him a withering glare, snatching a towel from the nearby chair and aiming at his face, full force.

"That's not the point, Cameron," you grumbled, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment, “And you didn’t see shit. I was dressed.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, catching the towel with ease before tossing it back to you "What's the matter, Maybank? You shy all of a sudden?"

“Will you shut up?”

Rafe held up his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening as he leaned against the nearest wall. There was no point in getting into a pointless argument with him, especially not when you had more important things to worry about. Instead, you focused on drying yourself off and getting dressed in the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.

As you emerged again, fully dressed and composed, Rafe had already begun unpacking the bags of groceries, laying out an assortment of food on the small table in the corner of the room. The sight of the makeshift spread made your stomach growl in anticipation, reminding you just how long it had been since your last meal.

“Hungry?” Rafe asked, glancing up from where he was arranging the food.

You nodded eagerly, making your way over to the table and helping yourself to a plate of fruit and plain toast. As you ate, Rafe filled you in on his plans for the day. It was strange, hearing Rafe talk so casually, without insults, without fear, or threats. For so long, you had seen him as nothing more than a spoiled, entitled rich kid, content to coast through life on his family’s wealth and influence. But ever since that night, you couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of respect for him. He wasn’t Ward.

When he finished speaking, you glanced up from your plate, “Sounds like a plan,” you said, your voice steady and confident. “Is your contact here, yet?”

“Nah, only tomorrow.”

“Great. So, we’re on our own for now?”

“Yeah, you and me, Pretty Maybank.”

"Hey," you began, your tone light as you tried to sound casual, "I've been curious—why do you call me 'Pretty Maybank'? Is there a story behind it?"

Rafe's gaze flicked up from where he was picking at his food, a hint of surprise in his expression. He seemed taken aback by your question as if he hadn't expected you to bring it up.

He shrugged, "I don't know," he admitted his voice casual but tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "Just seemed fitting, I guess."

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, "Fitting? How so?"

Rafe hesitated, elbows dropping to the table as he searched for the right words. "I don't know," he repeated, his voice softer this time. "You just...are pretty, Maybank, everyone knows that.”

You felt like there was more to the story.

“Oh.”

He leaned back, now sat in the old chair, “Might start calling you snoring Maybank though.”

Your lips twitched, fighting back a smile, “You’re not funny. At all.”

“Sure.”

You tilted your head, studying him intently. He looked like a completely different person from last night, “Do you feel any better?” 

“About what?” He feigned innocence, avoiding your gaze, as his fingers started tapping nervously on the table. You knew what that meant. 

You leaned forward, expression softening as you reached out to touch his hand gently. “Uh—Y'know, last night, your nightmare.”

“Don’t,” Rafe's abrupt change in demeanor catches you off guard, his walls shooting up in an instant, his tone laced with defensiveness and irritation. You straightened up, your expression hardening as you withdrew your hand, a wall of your own rising to match his. 

"It’s not important," he snapped, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "Just drop it, okay?"

You recoiled slightly at his harsh tone, the sting of his words making you want to slap him across the room. It was clear that he wasn’t in the mood to talk about whatever demons haunted him in the night, and you knew better than to push him when he was like this. But you were feeling inspired.

“Why do you always do that?” You blurted out, frustration bubbling over. You needed some sense of security around him, and every single time you were close to getting it, he backed out.

He stood up straight, rolled his shoulders back, and narrowed his eyes at you “Not doing anything.”

"You always shut me out," You continued, words coming out in a rush as you struggled to articulate your feelings. "Every time. You say a few words, and then bamb, gone. We’re not friends, that’s fine. But I need to know you’re someone I can rely on, okay? You can’t be doing this. One moment you’re all trusting and the other…I don’t even know what the fuck you are. You can say no nicely, you don’t need to act like a dick.”

Rafe's jaw clenched, his expression turning steely as he locked onto your gaze, "I don’t want to be your fucking friend, Maybank," he retorted, his tone laced with irritation. "I'm protecting myself. And if you can't handle that, then maybe you're the one who needs to reevaluate things."

The words stung like a slap to the face. Resentment flared within you; the color drained from your face.

"Protecting yourself?" you shot back, your voice rising with each word. "From what, exactly? Me?"

He didn’t move, didn’t so much as toss a glance your way as he responded, “Keep your voice down.”

You shook your head, standing up from your seat. He'd said the same exact thing before you got on the boat and you were tired of being pushed aside like a toy.

“No, I fucking won’t. You’re the one who punched me on that ship, your guards were the ones who shot me, your father is the one who wants me dead,” your lips quirked in a small, humorless smile, “And you want to talk about protecting yourself?”

Rafe felt himself flinch, noting how his brows seemed to furrow ever-so-slightly. There was a feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t make out yet, but it was heavy and made you antsy.

"You think I don't know that?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You think I don't carry that guilt with me every single day?"

His words caught you off guard, the raw emotion in his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched into every line of his face. "You have no idea what it's like. To carry that weight, to know that everything you touch turns to shit.” His voice was probing, his eyes scanning your face with a scrutiny that made you want to run out the door.  “And you—Shit, you’re just searching for some confirmation that I am as horrible as everyone’s made me out to be. Newsflash, I am."

You let out a groan, the sound scraping against your throat. "I’m trying to help you! Are you stupid? Oh my god.”

"I don't need your help!" he snapped, standing taller than you, "I don't need anyone's help. I've been doing just fine on my own."

You stepped closer to him, pushing against his chest with your finger, "Fine? Is that what you call it? Living on the run, constantly looking over your shoulder, never knowing who you can trust? That's not fine, Rafe. That's not living."

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist tightly, “I don’t know how to live. I know how to serve, that’s it.” His grip on your wrist tightened as if he was trying to anchor himself, "I just...I can't."

Can't trust you, you think that's what he wants to say.

“Right,” You swallow, finding the carpet of the room suddenly all too interesting, “Good enough to fuck, not to trust.”

His grip loosened slightly, his hand falling away from your wrist as if burned, “I never said that.”

“You don’t have to. Dirty pogue, remember?”

His breathing mirrored your own, both erratic, leaning in closer, breath hot against your skin as his nose brushed against yours, “You think I’d risk my life for you if I believed that?”

“I don’t know. Would you?”

“You have no idea," he breathed, “Do you?”

"I don't understand you."

"Neither do I."

Without another word, he closed the distance between you in a single fluid motion, his movements graceful yet filled with an underlying urgency. His hands found their way to your face, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. His touch wavered between tenderness and roughness, with soft, gentle kisses blending seamlessly with fervent, desperate ones, as if he was unable to choose between cherishing the moment and giving in to his desires completely. You melted into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. It felt different from the first time you kissed. Less violent, less primal, more…intimate. It was as if he was trying to convey everything he couldn't put into words, everything he had been keeping bottled up inside, and you welcomed it. 

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours.

“You can’t kiss me to avoid questions, Rafe.”

"I know," he murmured, "It's just easier than talking."

You sighed, your hand coming up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly against his stubbled jawline, "It's wrong."

He closed his eyes, his breath hitching slightly at your words. For a moment, you thought he might pull away again, and retreat into his shell. But then, to your surprise, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss.

"I know," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with emotion. "But for now, can we just...be?"

You nodded, "Yeah," you whispered, "For now, we can just...be."

Neither of you knew what you were doing nor the consequences to come. 

[itsyouch]

some fanart for a fanfic I read called "Death is not an option here" by @ineedafuckingbreakpls! + more :]

BANGER name btw!!!

see... im a whump connoisseur and this fanfic hit every spot fr,

i love how fast Chosen just broke, it makes since because, if you think about it, Chosen had to deal with Alan's torture, fight Dark, get out of Alan's PC, then he has to kill his friend, and right after (probably) he gets captured by Victim and tortured all over again and its still because of Alan, even when he tried to forgive Alan he still is connected to his suffering, he never really got the chance to be free.

the way you made Chosen die in the very beginning AAAARRRRGGG OMG IT WAS SO GOOOD. AND VICTIM REALIZING THAT HE COULD SUMMON HIM BACK AND KEEP KILLING HIM WOWIEE!!!

this fic took me so long to read cuz every exciting thing that would happen, I would just immediately start jumping on the walls and yapp abt it to my friend (who recommended this fic to me)

this is my first time on ao3 so this fic being my first just WOWIE! YIPEEE! WOWZRERS! OMGA! I HOPE EVERY FIC I READ IS THIS GOOOD!

honestly I was so invested in this that when victim pulls up with some new torture method, I would just feels this perfect dread, I never get skirmish when I see/read gore, but when Victim started using the spiked whip, and you described it like

"He was trembling and struggling against the rope, trying to not pay attention to the chunks of his own meat stuck to the ground"

it made me shiver lol. but that was EVIL making Chosen count every time he gets hit with it (BUT GENIUS) also I had this idea I just wanted to share, you know the how Agent put the select box on Chosen's arm to stop him from moving? what if Victim just spun the box and snapped his arm off. ,':'p

you know, I have a lot to say abt this fic but I suck at expressing how I feel in writing💀

im yapping to much

[tbyfandoms]

Birthday Blues | Austin Butler x Reader

Pairing: austin butler x f!reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary: noticing her struggle with the loss and memory of her brother on his birthday, austin helps and comforts y/n with the celebration of his special day (requested)

Warnings: mentions of deceased siblings, descriptions of grief

Masterlist/Request Form | Ask/Tell/Request

A/N: it’s been so long since I’ve updated and I’m so sorry for that. I’ve missed writing so much and hope this is me getting back into my groove. I started this request ages ago but just now finished it. it’s felt so weird rounding out this fic about grief after hearing the news about liam (for any of my fellow directioners) and it’s just crazy to me how so many of the feelings and instances I wrote about in this fic have been a reality lately. I hope you’re all doing well whether you’ve been affected or not, and please remember to keep those you love close and to let them know how much you love them. to the anon who requested this, I hope this fic brings you comfort, thank you so much for requesting <3

Today’s the day. The day you’ve been anxiously awaiting for a while now. Every year it’s the same, it never seems to get easier for you no matter how hard you wish it would.

It’s your brother’s birthday, and it’s been a while since you’ve gotten to celebrate with him in person. He passed away and every year on his birthday you find yourself unable to function properly. Everyone tells you it gets better with time, but you’re still waiting for that to start kicking in.

There are some days where you find yourself so overcome with grief you can’t even find the right words to describe it, and there are other days where for a little while you almost forget he’s not here anymore. You yearn for those days, those days that feel like you’re floating and there’s nothing but calmness surrounding you.

You wish his birthday was one of those tranquil days.

As you move mechanically around the kitchen, doing your normal tasks as you would any other day, you find yourself trying not to fall apart.

Grief is a really funny thing. At times you believe your mourning period has passed and that that part of you that’s now missing has been patched and you’ll be able to handle this day on your own without any consolation. Other times you don’t even know how you’re able to stand up on your own and be expected to continue on. It’s like a balancing act, never knowing which way the scale is going to tip. Calm or devastated. Good or bad.

Pouring yourself something to drink, you think back on all the happy memories with your brother that you can. You know in your heart he wouldn’t want you to be sad today, or any day really. It’s just incredibly hard to not notice his absence, especially on his special day. It’s hard when you miss him so much and want nothing more than to celebrate with him instead of without.

Over the past few days you’ve tried not to focus too much on your brother’s birthday. You’ve kept busy and continued business as usual but you can’t deny the moments of sadness that crept in unannounced. You’ve talked to other family members about it and some of your friends too, a lot of them knowing what this day means to you and how hard it can be. You always keep up a brave face but it’s easier said than done on some days compared to others.

The sound of padded footsteps coming from your right breaks you out of your thoughts. When you turn your head you’re met with the soft smile on your boyfriend’s face. It’s impossible not to reciprocate it. You don’t know a soul on this Earth that’s ever been able to withstand a smile from Austin Butler.

“Hi, baby,” he says as he wraps his arms around you, his warmth and familiar scent immediately settling over you. Your body instantly relaxes against him, comfort beginning to course through your veins.

“Hi, Aus.” It comes out almost like a whisper and you curse yourself for already showing a sign of weakness. You promised yourself last night that you’d try to get through this day on your own, not wanting to distract Austin from any of his work or typical routine. Alas it’s not turning out how you hoped. That’s the thing about grief though, no matter how hard you try, you never do know when it’s going to come creeping back in.

Busying yourself with cleaning up, you ease yourself out of Austin’s grasp. For some reason you feel that if you stay that close to him, it won’t be long before your walls start crumbling down and you’ll both end up wrapped in devastation.

To be fair, you don’t even know if your boyfriend realizes what today is. You know you’ve mentioned it in passing, but with not wanting to make a big deal out of it you never really went into detail. You’ve talked to Austin about your brother before whether it be reminiscing about childhood memories or recalling an inside joke, but you always try to keep that devastation at bay.

The blonde hasn’t said anything about it recently and with his hectic schedule lately, you’re sure it hasn’t even crossed his mind. You’re not hurt by it, if anything you understand and appreciate it. It’s probably best if you handle today alone, in your own way.

A small frown adorns the corner of your lips and you make sure to turn your head so Austin doesn’t notice it. One thing about him is that he’s always able to pick up on your emotions and can tell when something’s wrong. Best plan of action is to just proceed as you normally would. You’re sure the actor has a million and one things to do today, so he should be out the door any minute now and you’ll be able to tackle the day however your head and heart deem fit.

“Are you hungry?” You say as chipper as you can while you start to open up a cabinet, ready to whip up anything your boyfriend would like. “I can make you your favorite or if you have to leave soon I can just make you something to take on the go.”

“No, I’m okay, thank you. I-I’m not working today.” You nearly bash your head into the cabinet door as you hear this. Your boyfriend was practically always working, especially now. So him saying this totally takes you by surprise.

“Why not?” You turn around and face Austin and just based off the look on his face you can tell he remembers what day it is. His eyes are so sincere and you nearly burst into tears because he hasn’t even said anything and yet you know exactly why he isn’t working. Why he most definitely told his manager and whoever else that today specifically was off limits for any meetings or shoots.

“I took the day off. I know I haven’t brought it up lately and you probably thought I forgot, but I know what today is, what it means and how important it is to you. I just wanted to be here with you and to let you know if you need me that I’ll be right here. I won’t let you deal with today on your own, sweetheart.” His tone is soft and he reaches out to caress your cheeks, wiping a tear you hadn’t even realized slipped out in the process.

“Austin I-,” you gulp, emotion rising fast in your throat as you look into his blue eyes and feel the empathy radiating off of him. “You didn’t have to do that. I know how busy you are and I know it must’ve taken a lot to have your day cleared. Really, it’s fine if you want to go to work. I-I can handle it, I’m fine-“

Your voice cracks and in that same moment you feel like part of your heart does as well.

Austin’s hands are tangled in your hair in an instant as he pulls you in close, holding your head against his shoulder as you begin to fall apart in his arms. There it is, one of those grief stricken moments you swore you wouldn’t allow to take over you today. So much for holding it together.

Clearly your boyfriend doesn’t seem to mind though, and for that you’ll be eternally grateful. You let yourself go, let your emotions go, as he whispers affirmations in your ear. Softly shushing you and assuring you that it’s ok to let it all out. It’s almost scary how easy it is for you to do this as well. To let yourself be vulnerable like this. But honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way. If you’re going to fall apart in anyone’s arms, there’s no one better than Austin’s to do it in.

After a while of being wrapped up in the blonde’s arms and after your sobs begin to turn into soft hiccups, you feel collected enough to take a small step back and start to wipe away any remaining tears.

“I’m sorry, Aus,” you whisper, feeling a little bad for just falling apart like this. You know he doesn’t mind, he wouldn’t have taken the day off if he did, but even still.

“Hey, hey, hey, do not apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for.” Austin reaches out and swipes his thumbs underneath your eyes, collecting tears that haven’t yet fallen. “I’m here for you, and if that means being a human tissue for the day then I’m fine with that.”

A small laugh bubbles out of your throat and the sound makes Austin smile. He loves your laugh and he’d do anything to hear it, especially on a day like this.

“I hope you know how much I appreciate you. I know you’re no stranger to grief when losing a loved one, but I still appreciate you taking this in stride and just being there for me. This day it’s-it’s-,” your breath catches in your throat, but you clear it, not wanting your emotions to take over again. “It’s hard, but you certainly make it a lot less difficult to deal with and for that I’m grateful.”

“Of course, baby. I’m here for you, always. When you lose someone you love, it’s difficult enough to deal with, yet alone trying to deal with it on your own. I promise you I’ll always be here for you on this day and every other one you may need me for as long as you’ll have me.”

A small smile breaks out on your lips and you don’t know a better response than wrapping your arms around Austin and squeezing him with all the love and appreciation you can muster. You can’t even imagine a day without him. You’ll have him forever if you’re able to.

Once the two of you break apart you watch as Austin begins to say something, but then appears to hesitate. His eyes meet yours and you start to wonder what it is he wants to say to you.

“Now I don’t ever want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable, but over the past couple days I’ve been thinking about what we could do to celebrate your brother today. If you’re okay with it, I’d like to take you somewhere.” The blonde takes a breath and then reaches for your hand, squeezing once before continuing. “You trust me, right?”

You’ve never felt more sure of anything than you do right now in this moment when you say, “Yes, with my whole heart.”

Your boyfriend smiles and you feel your stomach flutter with both gratitude and anticipation for what he has planned. No matter where it is he ends up taking you, you know with one hundred percent certainty that he’s doing it because he loves you and cares for you in a way you never even thought possible. That fact alone is what carries you out of that kitchen and through the front door.

*****

When Austin pulls the car into the parking lot of the flower shop connected to the cemetery your brother is buried in, you feel your heart begin to swell.

On the drive over, you began to brainstorm ideas of where it is your boyfriend was taking you. There was a small part of you that hoped he wasn’t driving you to some restaurant or your family’s house to try and take your mind off today, but that he was taking you right to this very place. In your mind, there’s no better way to celebrate and remember your brother than celebrating with him as much as you’re physically able to.

Not a lot of people find comfort in visiting a grave in a cemetery, but it’s one of the only ways you’re able to feel some sort of closeness to your brother. He might not be visible to you, but there’s something about sitting there and just talking out loud to him that allows you to feel some semblance of peace.

“Now I know everyone feels differently when it comes to visiting graves and doing stuff like this. So if you’re at all uncomfortable being here, you just let me know and I’ll turn this car around, we’ll go right back home, and I’ll apologize for the rest of my life for ever crossing any boundaries with you.”

A breathy laughs escapes you and you shake your head as you reach out and hold Austin’s hand in yours. “No, this is perfect. I very much appreciate you even thinking of doing this. I haven’t been able to come out here in a while, especially not alone, so I’m grateful you brought me here and that you’re willing to be by my side during it.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he smiles.

Austin turns off the car and the two of you make your way inside, the smell of fresh flowers instantly hitting your nose and you breath in deeply, wanting to hold onto it. It’s crazy to think there could be something so beautiful and alive surrounded by a place so sorrowful and morbid. Somehow, you think there’s something poetic to be found in that.

Both you and Austin wander around the shop for a while, taking in all the gorgeous arrangements decorated specifically for different types of family members. You see plaques for parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, and then finally siblings. It hurts your heart to know people lose their loved ones in a blink of an eye every day. No one is safe from the horrors and unfairness of the world, but you wish with everything you’ve got that they were.

You wish nearly every day that your brother had been.

As you walk further down the aisle, you find yourself getting stopped by a bouquet. It stands out from the others, it’s almost as if the colors and arrangement of it were calling out to you. One look at it and you know instantly it’s the one you’d like to get for your brother.

“Aus, this one’s perfect,” you say softly, stopping your boyfriend in his tracks. He looks over at it and smiles fondly. He thinks it’s perfect almost as much as you do.

Austin instantly grabs it and the two of you walk over to the checkout counter. You reach into your purse so you can grab your wallet, but the actor holds his hand out and shakes his head. “Let me, for his birthday.”

Tears immediately spring to your eyes at the sentiment and all you’re able to do in response is nod your head slightly and give Austin a wobbly smile. You don’t know why you’re so surprised over all of this. This is who Austin is, it’s who he always has been, and it’s who he always will be.

*****

The gravel road that winds every which way through the cemetery causes the car to shake just slightly as Austin follows your instructions to get to your brother’s grave. You’re not entirely convinced that’s the sole reason your stomach starts to knot though.

Even though it’s been a while since you’ve visited this place, the moment Austin pulled up to the gates it was like you were here just yesterday. The landmarks are all too familiar, the shapes of other people’s headstones, and the view of other grieving families scattered around bring everything back instantly.

As you look around and tell Austin to pull over to the right up ahead, you start to feel a little lightheaded. In your mind you can see the day you buried your brother so vividly. You can hear the sniffles of family and friends and feel the slight breeze in the air as he was lowered into the ground.

Even though you appreciate being able to still somewhat spend time with your brother here, it does make it all seem so much more real. When you don’t come and visit, sometimes you’re able to pretend that he’s still here, still alive. But the minute you see that headstone, you’re reminded that he’s not, and it gets harder to shake the sadness.

Austin puts the car in park and you both sit in silence for a moment. He watches you look out the window, knowing all too well the emotions running through you right now. He gives you a minute more before speaking up.

“Do you want me to wait in the car or is it okay to come with you?” His deep voice breaks you out of your thoughts and you blink several times before looking over at him.

“No, come with me, please? I-I want you there.” Austin nods his head and exits the car, coming over to the passenger side and helping you out of the car as you hold onto your brother’s bouquet.

Grass crunches under your shoes as you walk the few feet to your brother’s grave, and a soft gasp passes through your lips as you come face to face with the headstone that’s seared itself into your mind forever.

Kneeling down, you brush off the small bits of leaves and grass that’ve taken residence on the light gray stone. Your fingers trace over the letters imprinted within it and with each passing letter you feel your heart squeeze inside your chest.

It’s so unfair how life can change so drastically in an instant. You remember the last conversation you had with your brother and you wish you would’ve known that would be the last time you spoke to him. You would’ve said more, would’ve memorized more about his voice and the way he laughed. You would’ve held on to anything and everything you could if it meant keeping even one more tiny thing of him close to you.

Lifting up the bouquet in front of you, you make sure everything in it looks perfect before placing it by the headstone and then standing back up by your boyfriend. The flowers look beautiful and you hate that you can’t physically give them to your brother on his special day. You just hope he’s somewhere looking down at you and seeing how loved he still is. How he’ll always be celebrated.

Suddenly, you feel Austin softly place his hand on your lower back and begin to rub circles on it. This is something he often does when he can tell you’re sad or getting overwhelmed and just need some sort of comfort. It always helps calm you down and you appreciate Austin doing it in this moment.

Austin truly cares so much for you and it blows your mind every single day how lucky you are to have someone like him in your life. Everything from the grand gestures to the smallest little things he does for you, you find yourself being so grateful for it all. He’s such a wonderful guy and you smile thinking about how well he would’ve gotten along with your brother.

You know instantly your brother would’ve adored him. He’d definitely try to play the protective brother card and give off the impression he’d never approve, but in your heart you know Austin would’ve had him wrapped around his finger, much like how he has you. You could see them hanging out and watching sports together, talking about music and films, and overall finding such a genuine friendship within each other.

The thought brings a smile to your face and you let out a small laugh thinking about all the chaos they’d get up to together.

Austin notices and his own curious smile adorns his lips as he wonders what you could possibly be thinking about. “What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“I know you never got to meet him,” you start, a small tear trailing down your cheek as you take your eyes off the headstone in front of you and look towards your boyfriend. “But he’d really like you.”

A small puff of air leaves Austin as he takes in your words. In an instant he has you wrapped in his arms and his lips pressed against your forehead. “Oh, baby. I wish with all my heart I could’ve met him.”

You nod your head silently against him, knowing with everything you’ve got that he genuinely means it.

“Thank you for bringing me here, Aus,” you whisper, your words a soft rumble against the blonde’s chest. “You have no idea how much this means to me. I appreciate it so much.”

“You don’t have to thank me, but you’re welcome. I’d do practically anything for you—especially this—and especially today.”

You know Austin’s unfortunately no stranger to grief. He knows the pain of losing a loved one just as much as you do and you think it’s so kind of him to do all of this with you when you know it probably puts him back in his own memories of loss. The thought alone makes you squeeze him a little harder and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “I love you, Austin.”

“I love you too,” he smiles. “Y’know if you wanna do this every year for your brother’s birthday, we definitely can. If you want to, that is. I know it’ll never change the fact he’s no longer with us, but maybe celebrating him like this and coming to leave some flowers at his grave every year can help you feel a little bit closer to him in a way.”

“Yeah, I’d really love that. I think he would too.” You smile up at your boyfriend and take in his thoughtful proposition. You’d love to come visit your brother’s grave like this for his birthday every year. Like Austin said, it’ll never change the fact he’s not here with you anymore, but at least it gives you something to hold onto. It gives you something to keep your brother just a little bit closer to you, and you’d do anything to make that happen.

“It’s a deal then,” Austin says before leaning down and kissing you on the forehead. After pulling away he crouches down and plants himself on the grass. “C’mon, no more birthday blues. Let’s sit for a while. I’d love for you to tell me more about your brother.”

Your heart soars at his interest. Most people would want to flee this situation. Get as far away from a place like this and ignore the fact someone’s passed on completely. Not Austin. He faces it head first. He knows it’s hard, but he also knows it can be healing to do and it can mean a lot to someone too. He can tell by the look on your face he’s made the right call, and he’s grateful he’s able to be here for you in whatever way you need him.

“Well, where do I begin?” You wonder as you sit down next to the blonde. You rack your brain and try to decide on what story or fun fact you should share first. God knows you have an endless supply of them tucked away in your memory. Some funny, some sad, and some downright disturbing in the best way possible.

You glance over at Austin, settling on one and as you go to start sharing one of your favorite memories of your brother, you watch as your boyfriend completely tunes in to whatever it is you’re about to say. Nothing else seems to matter in this moment to him and that alone makes you want to wrap your arms around him and never let go.

Yeah, you think in your head, in a way speaking to your brother. You definitely would’ve liked him.

[glisten-inthedark]

I can see this so vividly in my head and I would love for it to happen:

during a mission that Byler is on with some other party members, they encounter a Demogorgon. Everyone gets accidentally split up as they hide from it, and we focus in on Mike, who only has a single Molotov cocktail left. Then, Mike spies Will across the way, hiding behind something and armed with a rifle but unaware that the Demogorgon is closing in on his location. Mike begins to frantically try to light his Molotov, but his lighter had gotten wet or gunky and isn’t starting.

We flip between Will, the Demogorgon closing in on him, and Mike still trying to light the cocktail. Finally as the tension reaches a peak and we’re focused on the Demogorgon, we hear Mike shout “HEY ASSHOLE” and the Demogorgon turns, and we see Mike with a lit cocktail. He throws it and it lands at its feet, setting it on fire but not dousing it completely. The Demogorgon shrieks and flails about, and Mike screams at Will to run, which Will does. Mike tries to follow him, but trips and crashes to the ground, maybe smacking his head or twisting his ankle.

The Demogorgon, still partially aflame or smoldering, advances on Mike. Mike struggles to try to get to his feet and run, but he’s bleeding or his ankle keeps giving way beneath him. Then, suddenly, Will is there, standing between Mike and the Demogorgon. And in a parallel shot to s1e1, he raises his rifle against the Demogorgon, but this time, he’s pissed and he’s determined, and he shoots the Demogorgon either right into its open maw or through a piece of burning, weakened, raw flesh, and Will Byers kills the Demogorgon.

Triumphant music plays and Mike stares at Will in complete awe and overwhelming love.

I’d love for Will to be the one to cast fireball and throw the Molotov lol but I also want a parallel shot of Will holding a rifle but for him to look determined and for him to kill a Demogorgon and essentially conquer the monster that took him in the first place. Obviously the overall monster is Vecna and the Mind Flayer but for 12 y/o Will, the monster he hid from was a Demogorgon.

Anyways I’d love to write this as a fic but I don’t think I could get the same emotional effect as it visually playing out just ‘cause when I picture it I imagine it as scenes not sentences if that makes sense

(But if anyone reading this wants to write this go for it lmao)

Hello! OMG but with the way you described it I could also see it in my head and I absolutely love it!

If anyone wants to write I'd be so happy 😊

[ssivinee]

Which would you read first ?

OKAY, so here's the run down rn. I have four fics planned out and I need you guys to choose which one will be posted first.

But there is a catch. Whichever fics that aren’t chosen will be posted AFTER chapter 3 of Ambivalence (which will likely take a while to finish bc i tend to have a rough time finishing series chapters for some reason🤩)

PSA about the last listed fic btw:

I haven’t decided on who ill write for but it is between a member of Twice or RV so keep that in mind!

Before picking, i think it’s only fair to share a bit about each fic:

❥ Broken Glass - AESPA Giselle x f reader (Angst?) One is a struggling actress, while the other is in a mentally draining, broken home. The two of you meet and get close, but once the other finds some luck, the other begins to suffer even more.

❥ A Book About You - LE SSERAFIM Chaewon x f reader (Fluff) In a world where, by the age of 18, you and your soulmate are gifted a book that links you to each other. You disliked the thought of a book dictating who she’ll spend the rest of her life with. Meanwhile, after years of owning the book, Chaewon realized you didn’t care to write in the notebook, using it as her personal diary, ESPECIALLY when the idol industry was beginning to fuck her over.

❥ [REQ] Pretty… Clueless - tripleS Yooyeon x KIOF! f reader (HELLA FLUFF) In a music bank waiting room, tripleS’ visual takes an interest in you due to syncing comebacks. What she didn’t know was, with your little sister’s recent debut, you decide to drop a visit to make tiktoks with her, and Yooyeon is there with her pretty self… being clueless.

❥ [REQ] Ungranted Wish - N/A x f reader (ANGSTYYYY) In an era where life only seemed perfect for royalty, magic existed. You were a mere baroness in the ranks but in love with the crowned princess of the land. It felt impossible, but the two of you became friends, and it slowly turned into something more. Yet what if the words of a Wizard, almost like a curse, stop the both of you from finding true happiness.

⚠️ Both angst fics are planned to have VERY heavy topics that may be triggering to some readers.

[inkedinfusions]

the imagery for that whole paragraph is STUNNING! I can imagine it so perfectly in my mind with the way you describe it. Istg the way you describe things is pure art in and of itself

!!!Thank you!! I find that I really like writing descriptive scenes. That is also why I struggled a little with the dialogue in the beginning, because up until the key, all the short stories I've written have no dialogue at all. I love love love describing spaces, feelings, and the character's metal state. I think they can be used by the reader to better insert themselves in the scene.

I love that you added this in cause I’m betting a lot of people might’ve been questioning if it was Zeke too

Yes! Its a logical conclusion on a surface level, but we must not forget that the Scouts had absolutely no idea that the Volunteers were a thing, and much less that they worked under Zeke. Also, it would be impossible to send anything to the island prior to Yelena's ship, as there were no other shipments to the island from anyone else, and Paradis does not have any radio technology yet.

same Reader saaaame! I can imagine it so perfectly in my head too the little smile he gave us 🤭 got me giggling and shit

Meeeee!! My sister is used to my bs so she didn't question me when I started giggling in front of my computer lmaoo

so I’m guessing then based off that line that I was right to have guessed last chapter that it is due to his future memories that he knows Readers name. That’s so interesting and I’m curious to see Eren potentially tell Reader all about that and just see what he knows

Ding ding ding! You were right on the money. I like the idea that, just as aot is a timeloop of sorts, fics are timeloops too. So I incorporated than into the key. My reasoning is: if Y/n is going to be an important part of the story, and future!Eren sends key memories to his younger self, then why would she not appear in the memories? Kinda spoilery but not really because its an Eren fic, he knows (being the Attack Titan) how the government or military would react to a random girl, much younger than any of the Volunteers, arriving to the island, and then becoming close to The scout squad. So in order to ensure her safety he ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■ (<- you can probably guess but I'm keeping it hidden for my own enjoyment lol)

AHHHHHHHH THE TAPESTRY LINE AGAIN!? it’s so gooooddd!!! I’m so happy you used that metaphor again! I love especially that you used it for this line here “…a loose thread will ultimately be pulled by an unknown force, sending you tumbling down once again.” It’s just such a good metaphor and I love the way you’ve been using it

Tapestry metaphor! Tapestry metaphor! Tapestry metaphor! Metaphors and anaphoras my true loves.

girl I don’t know why you were scared about writing the scouts wrong! I love the way you wrote Hange. I thought you captured her more… eccentric and dramatic (idk what other words to use) personality really well and I also loved how you wrote Levi’s distrust of the volunteers

Aughhhh thank you! I always get nervous when writing new characters but they always end up writing themselves. Levi is def not trusting the Volunteers, but does he trust Y/n? probably not guess you'll have to wait and see.

oooo that’s interesting. I’m excited to see what they wanna do with Reader

:DDDDDDD

Anyway, thanks for writing out your thoughts! I always look forward to reading what you thought about the chapter, as well as any theories you have for me. Thank you for reading!

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐲 | eren jaeger chapter 8

⊱𖣂⊰ | In which you fall into a fictional world with the key to Pandora's box.

⊱𖣂⊰ | masterlist

⊰– prev   next–⊱

𝟎𝟖 | 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

chapter word count: 3.3 k

content warnings: blanket warnings

a/n: So we are doing this again, where I say that I'm too busy and the next chapter will take a while and then I turn my back and upload on schedule. Anyway. I hope ya'll enjoyed last chapter's cliffhanger!

Thanks for reading!

𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 are taken aback is a gross understatement; you’re utterly stunned. Your eyes widen a fraction, and for a millisecond the air, the ocean, and your heart all still. 

Never in your dreams –well, maybe some of them– would you have thought that your name would come out of his mouth seconds after meeting you. There are no introductions to serve as prelude to his words, no past interactions to serve as crutch for rationalization. 

The gleaming moonlight is suddenly much more brilliant, bathing you both in silver rays. Your hair sways in the salty ocean breeze, and so does his, matching yours in a gentle rhythm. The wind is much calmer than the storm that heralded your arrival, air strangely warmer despite the environment that would suggest otherwise. 

Your name in his lips is not a question, but rather an answer. 

He, somehow, knows who you are, as his tone does not ask if that is your name, but instead states it with the certainty only someone familiar with another can. It is strange, how his eyes speak of understanding, how his stance speaks of kinship.

You are frozen in place for what seems like eternity, but is likely just a couple of seconds. Hange’s enthusiastic voice is lost in the pulse of the sea’s waves, in the drum of your heart, in the whisper of breath of your unasked questions. 

How? Is the first one your mind asks.

Zeke, you reply, before discarding the idea. It is neither logically sound nor something coherent with the instructions and warnings you were given. The Scouts never knew about the Volunteers before they set foot on the island, never considered such an organization's existence in the first place, and much less one that Zeke led. 

Invariably, you know him. 

Unexpectedly, he knows you. 

“What?” you instead ask out loud, when you notice that he is searching your response for confirmation.  

You hesitate with your question, not unlike when you first asked Yelena who she was. It is terrifying how, just when you feel you have a grasp on what is happening, the rug is pulled from your feet and you are left dazed and confused on the floor. 

It makes you think that when you reweave a new carpet from your loom, when you believe you can see the whole picture it depicts, a loose thread will ultimately be pulled by an unknown force, sending you tumbling down once again. 

You are a bit embarrassed of yourself when he gives you a small smile and your stomach flutters just as your cheeks heat up. Maybe this is a dream you think, and it's not the first time that you are hesitant to accept reality, but it is the first occasion that you don't compare it to a nightmare. 

“Don’t pretend like you dont know me,” he says, further baffling you. “We both know way too much for that.”

“We do?” you ask, before correcting your tone. “We do.”

Eren tilts his head slightly, transferring his weight from one foot to another. “Yeah.”

You’ve noticed that there is a lot of space for silence in your life. Whether it contains unsaid secrets, unasked questions, or unresolved doubts, it always lingers behind you, never broken, never explained. 

And yet now, even with the uncertainty with which you approach the newborn conversation, there is implied solidarity in his words, in his actions. Eren didn’t try to pretend he was ignorant of you for the sake of having aces under his sleeve, nor did he attempt to trade that tidbit of information for another. 

Instead he came down the hill –because you are certain he was given explicit orders to not approach the ship’s crew– and talked to you, making it known that you had a connection. One that may only be just brought forth, but that came to life months before your first meeting, when he received his medal and his memories and his burden, and when you watched his story and his rage and his salvation.

You hear a whistle in the distance, and you whip your head towards its source, the sand and rock shore where the two Volunteers and two Scouts remain. You glance at them, too far away to distinguish their faces, their number, but knowing anyways who it is that stands there. Or maybe not, but you couldn't bear to think that your information was now obsolete. 

“I have to go,” you confess as if it is a great sin. 

Eren, who also turned his eyes to the shrill whistle, looks at you again. You swear his eyes soften, and gleam with something akin to… beholding? As quickly as these thoughts enter your mind you dismiss them, because, even if he could claim to know you through his future memories, it doesn’t excuse what you think you see. And so, you conclude it must be a trick of the light and of your perceived closeness to him through his story. 

He nods, not moving from his place between the dunes. You swallow, also not wanting to withdraw, but then you blink and the spell is broken on your end. The sand once again crunches underfoot, but then you stop when he calls your name again in a soft voice that is carried your way by the salty breeze. And so you cast your eyes upon him again, humming questioningly.

“Tell them your name,” is what Eren says after a moment. “They don't know,” he continues, infusing the word with weight, “but they learned.”

And it should be painfully awkward, how blunt questions and half finished answers are being thrown about, but there is no discomfort in the exchange. You know, and he knows, and you hadn’t realized how refreshing it was to just be, not relieved from the burdens but breathing in spite of them. You wonder if he has come to the same realization. 

“I will,” you say. “Thank you.”

“I’ll find you later,” he says. 

“Yeah,” you answer, almost tripping over your words. “Okay.”

You dont think to ask why until much later, when your feet have already taken you to the other side of the pier, sand crunching rhythmically under your robotic footsteps. Why he would tell you, and why now, and why in that way. But the more you delve into it, the more obvious it becomes. 

Eren knows what is supposed to happen (giant footsteps and crunching bones and the spray of blood and–) and is, in his eyes, powerless to do anything but follow the path already established by his future self, who is likewise chained by the same revelations. Perhaps you are as well, if the haunted look in his eyes is any indication of the unstoppable future that will be realized in a little more than three years. 

Still, everyone seeks salvation, even those who sacrifice themselves in order to save others. You and him are no exception. 

You will save him from his preordained fate, determined by his past, by his future. He will save you from your uncertain destiny, shrouded in mystery and paradoxes. 

Maybe you don't need to reweave a new tapestry just yet; maybe it's enough to only untangle the yarn. 

Hange Zoë is no less enthusiastic than the character you used to watch on Tv. Levi Ackerman is no less distrustful than the man you read manga about. They haven’t greeted you yet, as you’ve only just arrived to stand behind Yelena, next to Onyankopon. 

He glances at you when you arrive, silently asking with his eyes what held you back. You shake your head almost imperceptibly, imploring that neither he nor Yelena press the issue. 

“Is that her?” Hange chirps, curiously referring to you. 

You almost want to look behind you, to see if there's anyone else they might have been talking about, but you know there is no one else in your vicinity, and you're the only one who has approached recently enough to warrant the question. 

“She is the last one.” Yelena says. “Please excuse her tardiness.”

“Oh! Well, in that case it's so nice to meet–” 

“Four eyes,” Levi interrupts. “Now's not the time for chit-chat.” He turns to glance at you, before returning to look at Yelena, the de facto leader. “Expect the ship to be searched while we escort you three to our base.”

“I would expect nothing less,” is what Yelena responds. “Your caution is commentable.”

“Sure,” Levi says dryly, not an ounce of belief in his voice, signaling unnamed Scouts to march onto the ship and its crew. “Get walking.”

You all file in, walking amongst the dunes and rocks, with Yelena at the helm of your little group. You feel eyes on you, but when you turn to look no one in your direct vicinity is watching. Instead, you trip when going up some slippery rocks, too preoccupied with searching for nonexistent eyes, but fortunately Onyankopon catches you, grabbing your arm to prevent your fall. 

The rifle slung over his shoulder rattles with the commotion, and you feel how the others turn to look at you, before registering both your actions as non threatening. 

“Careful there, kid,” Onyankopon says. 

“Thanks,” you say breathlessly, heart still reeling from your near slip. “Sorry for the, uh, tardiness.”

“It's all good,” he reassures you, although you know your notoriety for being late is only growing. 

You also know –well, maybe not know, but you are smart enough to deduce– that Onyankopon does want to ask you about your reasons for not heading directly to the pier after the Volunteer in charge of letting you out of your small cabin reported to his post. 

But he won’t pose the question right now, where there is a great chance of being overheard, and where exchanging secrets would only cause more suspicion from the Scouts. 

There is no idle chatter as you make your way to the multiple tents that make up the Scout’s base, scattered around an open field in an orderly fashion. Small yellow dots light up the entrance flaps of each green structure, and there are multiple barrels strewn around. 

You once again feel eyes on you, only this time you are aware of who those eyes belong to. It is a given that the other soldiers would be apprehensive about the Volunteers sudden appearance, but you notice how their attention lingers a tad too long on you. 

You force yourself not to squirm under the weight of their curiosity, of their judgment. Yelena and Onyankopon get noticed as well, but it is you that garners the most attention. Because, well, adults are what they expected Marley to send, but a teenager? Even if you are older than some of the recruits and Marley didn’t actually send you, it was still something they didn’t account for. 

So it is strange, even to you, who was made aware of this prematurely, how you are included in the small group with the proclaimed leaders of the Volunteer faction. Yeah, you can see why all eyes are primarily on you. 

Hange reaches a tent that seems larger than all of the others, and enters through the flap, and the rest of you follow, flanked by Levi. They grab at the knob of the hanging lantern and the space is coated with light. On the inside there is a table and red chairs, two on one side, two on the other. Hange brings a third one from a corner, raising the total to five.

“Sit, sit!” they usher you, taking their place on the other side of the table. 

“Weapons on the table,” Levi says, less enthusiastically. 

You don't have any weapons to turn in, so you walk towards the chair on the far right and sit, fiddling with your thumbs before you remember to quash the anxieties bubbling inside of you. There is a strong sense of deja vu when you reach for one of the teacups gingerly placed on the table, noting with some sourness how bitter tea always seems to follow you in interrogations and introductions. 

You disassociate for a moment, choosing to retreat into your thoughts, rewinding your earlier interaction with Eren over and over again, not unlike what you used to do with his older brother. 

What sets it apart is the intention with which you are dissecting it, turning his words upside down to squeeze more of that refreshing understanding (You know, and he knows, and you hadn’t realized how refreshing it was to just be—) out. 

There is silence again, but this time it is filled with tension. You blink, unsettled by the lack of discussion between the two Volunteers and the two Scouts, only to find the later ones looking at you expectantly, Levi’s expression disguised with more finesse than Hange’s.

“…Sorry, what?” you ask. 

“Your name,” Hange clarifies. “I asked for your name.”

“Oh,” you say. “It’s Y/n.”

There is something almost imperceptible in the way Hange fiddles with Yelena’s gun, a recognition in both their and Levi’s eyes that you might’ve missed were it not for Eren’s insistence in presenting yourself with your name. 

You risk a glance at Yelena but her eyes are on you, not them, as are Onyankopon’s, so you let yourself breathe, halfway convinced they didn’t notice.

Hange does not miss a beat. “It’s nice to meet you Miss Y/n!” they say, drowning out your protests of Just Y/n please— and placing the gun back on the table, next to the rifle.

You nod, hesitant. “It’s nice to meet you too, uh, …?” You trail off, not remembering if they already introduced themselves or not.

“Hange Zoë, at your service!” They say, nudging Levi when he doesn’t say anything.

“Levi Ackerman.” And if you notice the distinct lack of add on like Hange’s introduction, well, that is to be expected.

Yelena takes the opportunity to steer the conversation away from pointless (to you) introductions and unimportant (to her) dialogue.

“So, about our proposal…”

She launches onto the plan you rehearsed and memorized with Zeke, drilled into your mind enough times as to prevent any slip ups of the scheme only him, Yelena, and you know.

It’s not different at all from the one presented in the series, and although you now have it branded deep in your mind, back home you had to watch several videos and read several posts in order to understand. 

The beauty of Attack On Titan was in the convoluted yet intriguing plot and themes, yet sometimes you needed outside help to comprehend half of the stuff that was going on. The fact that each character has their own motivations and their own secrets on top of the changing allegiances do nothing to help.

Still, hours and hours spent scraping the wiki and watching compilations finally pay off, and you’re confident in your ability to not only remember each plan, but also the people involved and the moments in which their loyalties shifted.

The motions are well rehearsed; Zeke will contact the nation of Hizuru, and Hizuru will contact the outside world, advocating for Paradis, as well as provide the blueprints necessary to help advance the island’s technology.

The plan would take around fifty years to reach completion, the amount of time that is estimated as enough to take to bring Paradis to a similar level technology wise to the rest of modern society. There would be a small-scale Rumbling to show off the island’s power, acting as a deterrent for nations with wishes to invade. 

Hange takes the gun again, pointing it directly at their face. It is unloaded, but it still unnerves you. You weren’t a gun savvy by any means, but the first thing you had been taught by Zeke when going over gun safety was to never ever point the gun at yourself, not even when it had the safety on, not even when it was unloaded. 

Yelena lists off the numbers of personnel in the army, counting all the divisions; the infantry, the navy, and aerial forces. Despite Hange’s and Levi’s best attempts, it is evident how frazzled they are by the revelation. 

One million foot soldiers, three fleets of twenty one battle ships each, new technologies and aerial weapons. Those are the new enemies that they must now fight against, a stark contrast to the mindless but brutal titans they are used to dealing with. 

“If Marley had such capabilities the whole time, why haven’t they attacked in over a year?” asks Hange. 

“There are two main reasons,” Yelena begins. “One; the Pure Titans. Even with the latest weapons available to Marley, they would hinder a land assault. Quite ironic that the very thing that is used to confine Eldians to the island also protects it from outside forces.” 

“Yeah, well, ain’t that funny,” Levi says. 

Yelena sips her tea. “Still, I’m impressed.”

“Impressed?” Hange asks.

Yelena doesn’t answer, choosing instead to take a sip from her cup. She looks at her right, directly at you, as if she wanted you to answer in her place. And you can't and won't ever be able to read her mind, but you’re pretty sure you can guess what she is playing at. 

“It's almost dawn,” you point out. “And we are sitting in a tent drinking tea. There is no commotion outside, no one hurrying to their fighting posts. There are also no protective structures around the base, suggesting that you have exterminated almost if not all titans on the island.”

It's clear they weren't expecting you to speak. Even if Eren told them something, the most logical approach to your presence in the tent was as a buffer, something for the Scouts to pick at, to find weakness in. Yelena is helping you overcome that, because, even if it would be easier to infiltrate them if you are deemed as non-threatening, the trust that would be placed upon you should you be assessed as capable makes them want to take the gamble. 

“And the second reason?” Hange asks. 

“Currently, Marley is at war with multiple nations,” Yelena says. “The loss of the Colossal and Female titan, as well as the defeat of their Warrior unit has given many of their enemies the chance to unite and retaliate against Marley.”

“If you guys are secret agents who infiltrated Marley, I’m guessing you came from conquered nations?” Hange asks. 

Yelena’s and Onyankopon’s faces harden– one fake, one true. 

“Oh, I’m right?!,” they exclaim after. “I bet you’ve got some pretty big backers to go up against Marley then.”

“Not quite,” Yelena says, and after a moment she clarifies. “Onyankopon and I are from conquered nations, but Y/n is Eldian.” There is only one truth in her whole statement, a new record. “We were powerless, forced to play soldiers for the nation that took our homes, but Y/n was deemed a devil the moment she was born.”

The fake backstory you're using makes you a little uncomfortable, but it sure was convenient. They wanted to paint you as smart, but not too intelligent as to outsmart Paradis. Dependable, but not a pushover. Eldian, just like them, facing obstacles even when outside the walls. 

You tune out Yelena praising Zeke for organizing the Anti-Marleyan Volunteers, calling him a god amongst mortals. You hoped that small, subtle discomfort showed in your face, so the two members of the Scouts present would notice that you weren't lost in reverence for Zeke. 

“We are the Anti- Marleyan Volunteers,” she finishes. “Our goal: To free the Eldian people.”

Levi and Hange share glances, no doubt discussing the answer they would give. 

“We would like assurance of your allegiances,” Levi says. “You will not be able to contact Eren, or any of the others for that matter, but we want the girl to come with us.”

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[shade-pup-cub]

It is still WIP Wednesday somewhere!! A snippet I added to the up coming Chapter 2 of Same Yet Different- Extended

...

Flora seemed more relaxed with that cleared up. “The guardians are the first thing Ganon will corrupt as he claims the castle. If you don’t know how to parry the beams away, Wild will teach you as well as Link. Shortly after we had fled the castle, the Divine Beast were taken over by Blights.”

Wild took over. “Each Blight is in control of the responding element of the Beast it is in. Ruta has the Waterblight. It has a spear that can reach long distances and can send blocks of ice your way. Break them with a weapon or arrow. Rudania has the Fireblight, though fire is its weapon, it can have a protective shield. Naboris will have the Thunderblight with extreme speed and lightning, but it is also hurt by lightning. Medoh has the Windblight who produces tornadoes and has tracker beams. None of these are a walk in the park and they play dirty.

“Each Champion will need extra fighters.” Wild looked to his brothers. “I know this is why we are here, but I do not want to ask any of you to do this.”

“You don’t have to ask us.” Sky began as he looked to the others. “This is our task and we will do it.”

Regret still filled Wild as he told each of them their stations. “Time, Legend, you two will be posted on Vah Ruta with Mipha. Sky and Wind, with Revali on Vah Medoh. Warriors and Twilight go with Daruk to Vah Rudania as Hyrule and Four go to Vah Naboris with Urbosa. Myself and Flora will stay on the ground with Link and Zelda.”

Evander placed his hands on the table, uncanny resemblance between father and son(s?). “What do you need me to do?”

“The closest place to the Castle is Castle Town and here and will be the first place to be attacked. The king will not make such an announcement, but the whole area will need to be evacuated. Mo-” Wild stopped before he got the full word ‘Mom’ out, looking at Link. This was Link’s family, not his. “Mrs. Malon, Dela and Jax need to leave before dawn to make it to Hateno.”

Link signed, ‘My house has enough room and I’m not there too often, but it is stocked up. The bridge was finished a few months ago too.’

No way. “You own the house on the hill, across the bridge?”

‘If it is also in your era, we, built it.’

“I was told a soldier from the time of the Calamity owned it, but never came home. It sat there vacant until not long ago. I just didn’t know it was mine that whole time.” Wild’s mind raced, but he shook his head. “Yes, they will need to go there. Get word to any major influencers in Castle Town that the people need to leave there.”

“What if they choose not to?” Zelda asked.

“That is what they choose, we can’t force them.” Most at the table knew how these things worked and paid no attention to Zela flinching at the unspoken death sentence that would come with that choice.

Mipha came forward asking, “Should we at least tell the King of our plan?”

Legend glanced around the room. “Pretty sure that we are all wanted at this point.”

It was Flora who surprisingly agreed with Mipha. “The ground team can while you all get to your stations. By no means are we stepping foot into the castle.”

Knowing how this could be turned into the Chain’s adventure instead of who it was, Wild added one last thing. “Link, Zelda, this is your adventure. We will help you as much as we can, in any way that we can. When it comes to advising, we are limited due to the choices going forward are yours to make. Your orders are final, we will follow your lead.”

Zelda, still not as confident as Flora, looked to her hero. “I will follow you.”

Revali turned quickly from the others, feathers going over his beak as if in deep thought. Wild could fill the storm brewing with him, but Urbosa spoke first. “Alright Revali, what has your feathers twisted?”

“Hyrule’s King chose us to perform this pivotal task. It will be my honor to excel, as always.” Revali boasted, before returning a glare at Link and Wild. “Then there's you, the one part that doesn’t add up.” Link stayed stoic as they squared off. “Why should this nobody be trusted to lead us in the coming battle?”

“It doesn’t matter who the leader is. We are all in this together, right?” Daruk tried to reason.

“You are, of course, mistaken. My Divine Beast is the key!” He walked a little ways away, his back away from them still. “Really now, it makes no sense.” He mumbled not to himself. “Well… My one comfort is that your reputation will be completely ruined once you fail. The Fallen Knight. Ha! Seems fitting since your twin half really was the Fallen Knight or even the Fallen Hero.”

Time is the one to step in, both eyes open. He looks every bit of the Fierce Deity that he held in his travel bag. “You should hold your tongue on things you know nothing about. Especially in regards to Heroes and things we have had to go through to save our homelands and the lands of others.”

Wild walked over to Time’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You might not be the exact same Revali I knew or maybe you are. You once patronized me over having to merely assist me all because I had the Master Sword. You talked big about being the best archer in all the Rito, therefore making you the best warrior of all the land. I just keep thinking, how asinine it is to think so narrow minded.”

A few members of the Chain, including Link, tried to hide their snorts of laughter, not used to the bold sassy talk coming from Wild.

Revali puffed up his chest with a smirk, “Care to prove me wrong?”

Link tapped the table. ‘He did call us a pathetic knight.’

Legend came over and elbowed Warriors. “That’s some fighting words, Cap.”

“That it is.” Warriors leaned a bit onto the Vet, elbow on the younger’s shoulder. “Care to place a bet?”

Wild grinned. “I accept.”

Outside, they gathered in the center of the arena, bets made. It was a bit tense, but Wild just hoped that this would settle a few scores and bring the bird's ego down. Speaking of the bird, Revali fiddled with his bow, not looking at Wild as he talked. “So, hero, how do you want to do this, targets or-”

“Fight.” Wild coldly stated. “First to yield. Use anything you want.”

“Hmph, fine. You’ll need all the help you can get.”

Evander leaned in close to Wild’s ear. “Don’t hold back.”

Wild kept his lightest shield in his hand and a standard broad sword on his back along with his treasured Great Eagle Bow from Teba, a handful of arrows at his hip. Wild closed his eyes, slowing his breath and blocked out the background noise. Reopening his eyes, all he saw was Revali, his opponent, circling him. He knew the Rito would take to the sky and mock him for his inability to do the same. Predictable. 

Wild tossed a square bomb onto the ground, went to shield surf over it, but set the bomb off instead. He launched himself into the air, drawing his bow before reaching the full distance he would be going. Time slowed down as he pulled back to string, knuckles lightly brushing against his unscarred cheek. Letting go he met his mark, Revali’s bow. The arrow’s momentum took it right from the other’s feathered hand.

Wild allowed time to return to normal, still rising high from his bomb trick. Revali had squawked, chasing the beloved bow downwards, but Wild drew back another arrow, forcing his surroundings to slow once again. He inhaled, held, breathed out and let go. This arrow flew so close to Revali that even in slow motion Wild could see his head feathers move with the pulling gust. The second arrow split the first down the middle, embedding itself deeper into the bow.

Paraglider deployed, Wild glided overhead to line himself up with where Revali was swooping down still. He took out his sword and arched it over head to swing down in the Rito’s direction. Revali’s eyes grew wide as he grabbed his bow and rolled out of the way. He barely made it five feet when Wild’s sword made contact with the ground, sending dirt everywhere.

He forced Revali to block or dodge his strikes, not giving it his all at the moment. That was until the bird blocked with his bow and reached up with his talons, cutting into Wild’s chest. Hyrule was going to be pissed, but there wasn’t time to think of that since Revali went back into the air, but this time he had bomb arrows ready.

Three arrows were loosed and Wild dove out of the way for the first two, bringing his shield up to bash the third one away. The last arrow blew up near his feet, throwing him backwards onto the ground. He was still sore from the midday lashing, back screaming in protest once again due to the same person.

“No more tricks up your sleeve, Wild?”

A single bomb arrow came Wild’s way and he pulled out the tricks. Shield raised, Daruk’s protection surrounded him and the ghostly figure of Daruk exploded outwards on the bomb's impact. Daruk’s response was a thunderous laugh and a, “Look at that!” At least his response to seeing the gift was positive. How would Revali respond to his? Only one way to find out.

Crouching down, the wind whipped around Wild to create an updraft. With it ready to go, he shot into the air with his paraglider, Revali’s ghostly form spinning around him to pull him upwards with the gale. The living Revali was outraged to say the least. 

...

[hajihiko]

Nice night 🌘

[highlordofkrypton]

I'm super hyped for this game because I think about Modern AUs a lot for Tamlin? It's not normally my genre, but he just gets the muse flowing!

I have a couple variations of MODERN AU that I like for Tamlin! I guess they're more related to scenarios/fic ideas than Tamlin-specific headcanons, but I wanted to share anyway because I'm excited about them.

AMERICANA / HIGH SCHOOL TAMLIN: Tamlin comes from a long line of guy's guys. You know, the typical American dream. His father and his brothers were some kind of sports stars throughout their schooling, then went on to work for their father's company (which was passed down from his father, a lot of nepotism). All Tamlin wants is to take music class, join the school band and maybe take a poetry class because he really loves the arts, but he's build like a Ford F-150 so obviously, he has to be on the football team. Enter the rich kids (the IC). Everyone wants to be them, they're super popular and very cliquey. The leader of the group is the very stylish and spoiled Rhysand. This, my friends, is how we get a classic 90's high school romcom where it turns out both of them are more than what they seem, and they find honest little moments between them hidden away from the prying eyes of their classmates, their fathers and their expectations. Very soft AU.

In most of the Modern AUs, I imagine there's a lot of Tamlin forced to follow in his father's/brothers' footsteps which is always something he isn't passionate about, usually business (sometimes shady, sometimes not).

MERCENARY x RETURNING STUDENT AU / BL-INSPIRED: I don't know if this counts, but it's a self-indulgent headcanon (and fic that I'm writing for myself). It's more urban fantasy, but set in modern times. It's heavily inspired by my favourite BL manhwas. Tamlin's family died in an accident while Tamlin was in university, and shortly after his mother fell ill and into a coma. His father was rich, but dealt in shadier/criminal business, so when he died along with his would-be heirs, his rivals basically tore his company apart and now Tamlin is in a lot of debt. He worked for years to pay back as much as he can, and manage his mother's bills, but now he's in a place where he can go back to school (so he can get better jobs). Moving back into a small college town, he accidentally ends up being roommates with a mercenary-in-disguise (Johan, it's Johan) who initially wants nothing to do with him. Little by little, Johan notices the way Tamlin is struggling to exist, so he helps him out and more and more until they fall in love. In this AU, Tamlin was originally pushed to take business in school because of his father, but he was very passionate about folklore, specifically Fairy folklore (he grew up listening to his mother's stories). When he returns as an adult student, he's in computer science (for the comedy) and sucks at it, which gives room for his mercenary boyfriend to help him. It's very cute. I also love Tamlin being older than all the other students and just not keeping up with the trends.

Anyway, those are my thoughts! Long story short, my kink is writing scenarios/fics where Tamlin is absolutely adored!!!

Welcome to our Tamlin Community game: Headcanons!

Every headcanons post, we'll drop a prompt asking you for your take on the prompt and our beloved Tamlin.

Fun fact: Did you know headcanons posts count as submissions during Tamlin Week? Headcanons are a great way to participate if you don't have time to create more time consuming submission and we love, love, love hearing all the different ways Tamlin is perceived!🤩

This is a space to share your adoration and your creativity, so don't be shy -- reblog or chat with fellow Tamlin enjoyers in the notes!

What are your MODERN AU Tamlin headcanons?

[luxaofhesperides]

Childhood friends to lovers ; requested by @starlightcat04!

Duke’s grandmother lived in Illinois when he was a kid, years before he and his parents were captured by the Joker and the news of it sent her to a hospital that she didn’t leave until Death arrived for her. But before all that, before his life upended and tore itself to shreds in front of him, Duke used to visit her in the summers.

His parents didn’t want to leave Gotham, but they also didn’t want him to grow up there amid all the crime and rogue attacks. The solution was to drive down to his grandmother’s house, suitcase in the trunk, and stay with him there for a few days before they returned to make sure no one broke into their house. 

She lived in the outskirts of Amity Park, a town smaller than Gotham and much, much quieter. The change in scenery always blew his mind, and he spent most of his childhood summers running around the woods, accidentally scaring hikers. 

There were other kids in Amity, further in towards the suburbs, but he never got along with most of them, too strange, only here for a month or so, and carrying an awareness and sense of danger that all Gothamites had. 

He didn’t really have friends in Amity Park, except for one: Danny Fenton, local outcast due to his scientist parents'… everything. His only friend, a boy named Tucker, would always be gone in the summers as well, visiting family in Chicago and Pennsylvania. 

They gravitated towards each other, as lonely kids tend to do.

Danny helped make those summers fun, full of laughter and skinned knees and smuggled tech from the Fenton household to mess around with. They shared stories of their lives, comparing Amity Park to Gotham, arguing over superheroes and getting distracted each time by how cool heroes were. 

The last summer he ever went to Amity Park, Danny had gotten his first cell phone and eagerly gave Duke his number. Any time they weren’t together, they were texting until they fell asleep, phone still in hand.

The time they spent together was always limited, but Duke could swear that no one in the world knew him as well as Danny did.

He still misses him. 

They still text and call when they can, but it’s gotten hard over the past few years. Duke was caught up in foster care and searching for his parents and being part of the We Are Robin gang and then becoming the Signal. Danny, from what he’s shared with Duke, went through similar things of recovering from a lab accident and then having his town be overrun with ghosts, of all things, which had the government get involved and cause problems.

The few times they were able to find a quiet night where they could just talk and be Duke and Danny again were nights he always treasured, though they left an ache in his chest when it was over. 

It’s just been so long since they’ve seen each other in person. He doesn’t even know what Danny looks like anymore! And, sure, he could always ask for a picture, but it feels awkward. They know what they looked like before. And they’ve heard each other’s voices, know the basics of what’s going on in each other’s lives…

They still know each other, but Duke is all too aware of the distance that’s grown between them.

“Duke, seriously, what’s got you spacing out so much?” Steph asks, pulling him from his thoughts. 

He shrugs, smiling sheepishly. “Just thinking. Sorry about that. What were you saying?”

“I was saying,” she says, “That you should do a road trip. Or just like, travel around. Check out college campuses. Enjoy your last summer vacation of high school! Trust me, you’ll want the break before going into senior year.”

“Just because you’re two years older than me—”

“Excuse me for trying to impart my wisdom! See if I help you again when I’m older and wiser.”

“Sure, Steph,” he says, “Whatever you say.”

She squints at him. “What’s with that tone? I’m being helpful right now!”

“Mhm.”

“Geez. I should have let Dick talk to you. Anyways, I already told Bruce that you wanted to do this, so he’s agreed to fund it.”

Duke jerks upright in his seat, nearly falling out of it. “You did WHAT?!”

“You’re welcome,” Steph grins, unrepentant. 

“Steph, come on. This is unnecessary. Isn’t it better for me to help out more in the summer? Train more, work with the team on stuff, you know, important things?”

“Duke.” Steph’s voice suddenly turns serious and he can’t help but give her all his attention. “Listen to me. Your life is more important. If Gotham survived when Bruce was the only cape around, then it’ll survive while you prioritize your life. And that means touring colleges to figure out where you want to go.”

“I could just stay here and go to GCU.”

Steph just stares at him, unimpressed, and he has to admit, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not gonna do that.”

“Just enjoy traveling around, okay? And if you want someone to go with you…” she nudges him with her shoulder, repeatedly, very clearly hinting at something.

“I’ll be sure to ask Cass,” Duke says, and Steph rolls her eyes, but doesn’t deny that Cass would be a great travel partner. 

Their conversation comes to a halt when an alarm on her phone goes off and she drops her head with a groan. She grabs her bag and takes off with a quick explanation that she has to get to class, one she hates but is determined to ace just to spite the professor, and in no time at all, Duke is alone again. 

Without Steph providing him a distraction, Duke has nothing to do but read through his texts with Danny. It hasn’t been that long since they last talked; four days ago is nothing compared to the months of silence that went between them a few years ago. They’ve gotten better since staying in contact since then, and make sure to text at least once a week. 

It’s not perfect, but it’s better than nothing.

He considers asking Danny where he’s planning to go. Maybe they could go to the same place together, live in the same apartment, be able to finally stick together. Not that it’ll ever happen; the more likely outcome is that they’ll be accepted into different universities, chose places closer to their respective homes, and still be far apart.

An idea begins to form in his mind.

They’ve had summers together before. Maybe they could have one more.

First, he needs to talk to Bruce.

He’s working from home, thankfully, typing away at a laptop in his office when Duke knocks on the door and pokes his head in.

“Duke,” Bruce smiles, pushes his laptop away. “Come in.”

“Hey. Steph said she talked to you about me traveling this summer?”

“Yes. She was very insistent that you go visit any universities that pique your interest. I’ve already agreed to fund everything, and I can take care of plane tickets and hotels as well.” 

Duke nods, trying not to look too nervous. “Yeah, so about that. Could I travel with someone? Would that be cool? Or is this a thing for me only?”

Bruce blinks. “I promise cost is not an issue. Adding another person won’t be a problem. Who is it?”

“Ah, no one you know. He’s a childhood friend of mine who lives in Illinois, and I’d like to spend a summer with him again.”

“Who is it?”

Oh boy. Bruce is definitely going to find everything he can about Danny and his family and start interrogating Duke about him. But if that’s going to let him travel the country with Danny, then he’s more than willing to deal with it.

“Danny Fenton, from Amity Park. The town with the ghost problem.”

Bruce leans back in his chair. “I’ve heard of them. The League discussed investigating it when the news first got out, but Constantine warned us to stay away due to risk of possession. It seems that the local hero, Phantom, has it all in hand.” Bruce nods, already thinking deeply about his next steps. “Alright, I’ll need to do some research. And send me a list of the universities you’d like to visit so I can plan your itinerary.”

“Cool. Thanks, B.”

Duke leaves as quickly as he can after that, letting out a relieved breath  once he’s sure no one is around to hear it. 

Step one is done. 

Now for step two: communication.

duke: hey, are you free for a call anytime soon? danny: yeah! we can call now if u want :)

Well! That was way faster than he was expecting. 

He all but sprints through the halls to get to his room and locks the door behind himself. It won’t do much to stop anyone from actually coming in, but it is a sign that he wants privacy. Once he’s sure no one is going to be listening in and interrupting, Duke pulls up Danny’s contact and hits the call button.

It rings twice before Danny’s picking up, greeting him with a cheerful, “Hey Duke! What’s up?”

“Hey Danny,” he replies, unable to help the way his voice softens with affection. “So, this is totally out of the blue, but if you could spend this summer going around the country with me, would you?”

“I mean, yeah, obviously. You know I’d do anything to spend more time with you! Why?”

Duke grins. While he was sure about what Danny’s answer would be, that didn’t stop him from worrying about a rejection. “Well. Bruce has offered to fund the entire trip and bring someone along.”

“Wait, seriously? You want me to go with you?”

“Who else? Dude, you know I love spending time with you, and I’ve missed you like crazy.”

“Oh my God, you’re serious. Duke! Yes, I want to be your travel buddy! Are you kidding me? In what world would I say no?”

“Hey, man, you can’t blame me for making sure. Are your parents going to be fine with that?”

Danny goes quiet, and Duke feels his heart drop. “Danny? Is something wrong?”

“No,” Danny says, followed by a bitter laugh. “They won’t care. I’ll just tell them I’m going traveling with a friend and that’ll be enough. They’re too busy to care much about what I do, these days. They probably won’t even notice that I’m gone, now that Jazz isn’t here to remind them that I exist.”

“How is Jazz, by the way? We could visit her.”

“She’s doing fine. Really loving Harvard. And I’d love that Duke. You’re the best.”

The mood of the conversation eases and they fall into the usual rhythm of catching each other up, chatting about their lives and any other thought that crosses their minds. It’s easy for the hours to slip away with Danny, and before he knows it, there’s a knock on his door as Alfred calls him for dinner.

He hangs up with a quick goodbye to Danny, along with a promise to send him the itinerary once it’s made. 

Somehow, news of his summer plans get out by the end of the day. Which means Steph blabbed and feels no remorse about it. The next week of Duke’s life is overtaken by nearly every trying to help him plan and prepare for his trip, while lightly interrogating him about Danny. By the time he was heading off to the airport, agreeing to take one of Bruce’s smaller private planes which was piloted by a man who definitely wasn’t Jason going by the name 'Todd Jameson'. Of course not, that would be silly.

(Duke sighed very, very loudly when he saw Jason waving at him from outside the plane. He should have expected the guy to take advantage of Bruce needing a pilot and teasing him about Danny.)

He can’t bring himself to be too bother by it, though, when it means he’ll get to be with Danny again soon. Duke would pay any price to be with him again, so this is hardly anything.

They set off with a wave from Duke and Jason flipping the bird to the rest of the family. And then Jason is up in the cockpit, blasting his playlist of songs from musicals, and Duke is left to wait impatient for the next few hours until they reach Illinois. 

The hours pass far too slow but also much too fast. Duke feels like he barely has time to prepare himself before they’re landing smoothly and Danny texts him to let him know he’s at the airport.

Jason sees him off before heading out to take a call from Roy, telling him to find his own way to his hotel. Duke barely pays him enough mind to say goodbye, grabbing his suitcase and hurrying into the airport, searching for the terminal Danny’s at. 

He doesn’t find Danny first. Danny finds him and slams into him like a freight train. It’s only his training that keeps Duke from toppling over, dropping his suitcase to hold Danny. They cling to each other tightly, as if they might never see each other again. Danny’s got his legs wrapped around Duke’s waist like a koala, and Duke would be happy to carry him forever. 

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” Danny murmurs into his ear. Duke shivers, holding him tighter, and smiles.

“Yeah. I know. Man, you don’t know how much I’ve missed you.”

“I think I can take a pretty good guess.”

Danny pulls away, dropping his feet back to the ground. 

Duke is finally able to see Danny for the first time in years, and he’s pretty sure he stops breathing for a solid minute. Danny grew up fine. He’s got the bluest eyes he’s ever seen, and soft black hair that’s a little windswept and messy, and his grin is as bright and beautiful as always. For a moment, Duke wants nothing more than to kiss him.

Then Danny steps back and the thought fades. 

“Ready to go? We’re going to UChicago first, yeah?”

“That’s the plan,” Duke says, falling into step with Danny as they make their way out of the airport. “Then a day just to hang out in Chicago before we head to Harvard.”

“Cool,” Danny grins. “Hotel first, though, right?”

“Yeah, man, catch up time is essential.”

Danny glances over at him, something unreadable in his eyes, but he smiles when he sees that Duke is already looking at him. “Let’s get going, then.”

Danny drives them in a car he apparently made himself, which explains why it’s a model Duke’s never seen before. It drives like a dream and Duke is very tempted to get Danny to make one for the Signal, maybe even wrangle up a contract to have him work with Batman Inc. 

They spend the two hour drive chatting and laughing as if no time has passed at all since they last saw each other in person. All the years seem to fade away and they’re just Duke and Danny again, spending another summer together. 

Check in goes smoothly, and the room Bruce has booked them is large, with two beds, a seating area, and a dining area. A glass door leads to a small balcony with two chairs and a fantastic view of the lake behind the hotel. They set both their suitcases on the luggage rack, and Duke only has time to turn to Danny to ask which bed he wants before he finds himself pressed up against the wall, Danny’s hands on his cheeks.

“Tell me if you don’t want this,” he whispers against Duke’s lips.

Duke doesn’t bother replying. He just leans in, closes the minuscule distance between them, and kisses Danny. It’s soft and sweet and everything he’s ever wanted.

Then Danny makes a small noise in the back of his throat and deepens the kiss. It goes from soft to heated and desperate and all consuming instantly. Duke slides his hands around Danny’s waist, pulling him impossibly closer, and thinks I never want to leave you again.

He’s completely lost track of time when Danny pulls back with gasp. They both take a few seconds to catch their breath, and Duke realizes his cheeks feel cold.

“Sorry,” Danny whispers, pulling his hands away. Duke catches them before they can go too far and holds them together.

“Sorry for what?”

“The frost,” he says, wiggling his fingers lightly. Duke glances down and sees that his fingertips are lightly coated in frost, spilling down his fingers.

“You have powers?”

“Came with the lab accident.”

“Man,” Duke says, “We have got to catch up properly. There’s a ton I haven’t told you.”

Danny laughs lightly, breathlessly. “Oh, for sure. But later. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for years.”

“Danny, baby, you can kiss me all night if you want.”

“I intend to,” he says with a bright grin.

What else could Duke do but lean in and kiss him again?

Nothing else exists in that moment except them. Duke is so, so glad he’s got the rest of summer to spend with Danny. He’s going to take him on dates in every city they visit. 

They’ve gone years without seeing each other. Duke refuses to let it happen again. Whatever future awaits them, he’ll do all he can to keep Danny in it. 

But for now, he’s got his cute childhood friend to kiss and all the privacy a hotel room can offer. He fully intends to make the most of it.

. . .

[send me a ghostlights prompt!]

[gardenofnoah]

cw: implied sexual trauma, panic attack, intimacy struggles

You don’t notice it happening until it’s buzzing under your skin. Loud and unavoidable, the only thing you can pay attention to is the irregular flutter of your heart and the way it seems that all the air has been vacuumed from the room—

“Hey.”

You blink, and Katsuki is no longer above you. He’s not touching you at all—you turn your head to find him next to you, propped up on an elbow and only worried.

“Too much?”

The panic flares at the question, because what if this is the last time? What if he’s tired of this?

Your exhale is shaky—your laugh is forced and sounds out of place. “No, it was fine, I just—“

“Oi—“ he says, gently, “tell me the truth.”

The truth burns your eyes and keeps them on the ceiling, away from his. You nod, helpless and resigned to whatever comes next.

“What’s goin’ on in your head?”

You feel the tears spill over before you can catch them. You swipe them away with the back of your wrist. It’s still numb. “I’m just sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin it.”

He grunts a little in acknowledgment—a displeased, ugly sound—and then there’s movement that finally draws your eyes to him. You watch him cover himself with your duvet—all the way up to his chin.

“S’it okay if I hold you?”

He reaches for you and you let him pull you in. His hands stay above your shoulders and pointedly avoid your neck—cradling your head, letting you hide in the curve of his throat. His pulse is steady and constant against your forehead—or you imagine it would be, if it wasn’t muted by the fabric.

“Nothin’ is ruined,” he murmurs against your hairline, “s’my job to keep you safe.”

Your chest shudders against the cushion of the blanket and you feel a little guilty about crying all over it but Katsuki keeps you there, tethered to him. The ringing in your ears subsides, just a little. Just enough to hear the panic in your own voice.

“I promise I want it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m sorry—“

“Hey, hey,” he shushes you, careful not to tighten his arms around your shoulders. “Nothin’ to be sorry for. S’too much today—that’s all.”

It’s quiet, then, save for your sniffling. He keeps his mouth pressed to your hair, and his arms wrapped around you. There is a noticeable absence of his fingertips tracing along your skin—you don’t feel them there at all, and it’s on purpose. He’s considerate and it makes you anxious.

“Can hear you thinkin’.”

“I just—“ you inhale, trying to be brave, “I don’t want you to leave. I know I can’t—give you this—“

“Oi,” he gruffs, a little sharply, “I don’t give a shit about that. M’not a barbarian.”

You feel the expansion of his lungs as he draws in a slow exhale, and lets it out against the crown of your head. “Don’t think so little of me,” he murmurs, tone laced with hurt.

“You’re right,” you whisper, because he is, “I love you.”

“Love you.” He kisses it into your skin, soft and barely there. “Always will.”

[just-french-me-up]

If you'd still like Dreamling kiss prompts, how about 7 or 17?

@martybaker asked : Hello, your fics are so lovely! May I humbly request ‘A kiss to shut them up’ if you’re still taking prompts? 👉👈 @anonymous asked : Thoughts on dreamling 7 or 17 (to shut them up or to distract - maybe even both at once?) for the kiss prompts?

We're shutting him up, yall! This is a Retired!Dream one, in which Dream struggles with the human body and human condition, and can't see how he can measure up to his old self in Hob's eyes. Angsty you say? Deceivingly horny I raise you! I kept this sorta M rated but... hey if there's more to come *winkwink* who knows?

The human body was a curious thing. It required constant attention, fluids, fuel, maintenance, care. And yet it was so... limiting. Morpheus could still remember how it felt, to think of a place and feel the ground shift under his feet without ever having to move. There had been no hunger then. No thirst. No itching, for his skin had never had the notion that it could be too dry.

If he had ever felt those things, it had been because he had chosen to.

Now the world imposed itself to him, there wasn't much of a choice.

Urges baffled him the most. The dryness coating his mouth on a particularly hot day, his mind conjuring up images of cold, condensation-weeping bottles. The drowsiness taking hold of him after dinner, weighing on his eyelids. The burning, devouring heat flaring in his abdomen as Hob would step out of the shower, a towel lazily tied around his hips, the line of hair trailing down his navel guiding Morpheus' gaze downwards.

It was a strange thing, to be overcome by such sensations. An infuriating thing, really. He ought to be able to resist them. He had been able to resist them, once, to ignore them, dismiss them into nothing if he so chose. How vexing it was, to be a creature of wants and needs, when your existence had been nothing but careful control.

He would not tell Hob, but he could not help but feel... lesser. How clever could his mind be, now that he only had access to his own? How good could his hands be, he who had been able to breathe life into dream clay, fashion lands and castles with a single thought? How pleasing could his touch be, now that he was barred from his lover's unconscious? How could he compare to who and what he had been, once?

They had not made love ever since his encounter with the Kindly Ones. Hob had never pushed, reading Morpheus far better than Morpheus ever could, now. There had been times, here and there, when Morpheus had thought they would, with lingering kisses growing deeper, embraces in bed tighter, but something had held him back. Some bitter gnawing feeling at the pit of his stomach. Yet another thing he could not seem to control.

Yet he wanted. Desperately, frustratingly so. The most mundane things would strike him as the most erotic sights he could fathom. Hob drinking his coffee in the morning, his Adam's apple bobbing as he'd swallow. Hob reading the day's papers, his gaze intent, focused. Hob reaching up to grab this or that from a cupboard, his shirt riding up and showing his navel, while his tired pajama bottoms hung from his hips, revealing the slight dips there, a hint of hair...

Morpheus' body would betray him often, subjecting him to fantasies and erections that, much like the rest, he held little control over. Unlike food, lust was a hunger he never seemed to satisfy. It only grew.

If Hob had ever caught him staring, he never said anything. Instead, he was highly skilled at noticing when Morpheus' mind would start spinning on itself, feeding the loop of existential dread looming over him. He had taken to giving Morpheus tasks, then, something to focus on. Although it would not quite clear the storm, it muffled it somewhat.

Perhaps he'd sensed another one of Morpheus' spirals that night, when his voice rose from the bedroom.

"Oh, bollocks! Love? Might need a hand here."

As he stepped inside the bedroom, Morpheus found Hob standing by the mirror, struggling with his button-up. He flashed a quick contrite smile at him, emphatically tugging at the fabric.

"Can't manage to button those buggers off," he explained.

"Allow me."

The human condition was one thing, but buttons he could handle. Morpheus' touch was methodical, surgical almost, as he focused on the task at hand, yet three buttons later, he could not help but feel his focus slip. He could feel Hob's warmth under his fingertips. His heartbeat. As he breathed in, Hob's scent filled his lungs, distracting him further. By the time he was done with the shirt, his mind had gone elsewhere.

Hob wore an undershirt, a thin, almost see-through thing. It required barely any effort to see his chest in spite of the fabric. Morpheus' eyes trailed down, heat flushing his cheeks. Mindlessly, his thumb traced the line of hair down Hob's abdomen, his mouth filled with want. He could feel hot breath against his lips. Humans were not meant to withstand such hunger.

They were kissing before Morpheus could articulate another thought, Hob's mouth warm and soft against his, the coarse brush of his stubble adding fuel to the fire overtaking him. No doubt Hob had meant for this to be tender, but Morpheus was famished, taking, and taking, and taking all that was offered until his lungs might explode. He found himself gasping against Hob, nose to nose, forehead to forehead.

"Hey," Hob whispered, gentle to a fault. "It's okay. There's no rush."

Morpheus swallowed hard, feverishly catching his breath. Hob's palm was invitingly cool against his cheek.

"I will keep," he continued. "We don't have to―"

"I want to," Morpheus rasped, weeks of frustration pushing the words out of him. "I want you. I just―"

"Just what?"

The patience in his voice was the lifeline Morpheus held onto as he sighed, embarrassment flooding through him.

"This form, it feels... finite. Flawed. Lacking."

Fallible, he did not say. He watched as Hob's eyes grew round, ridicule joining embarrassment.

"Duck―"

"I am not as I once was," he continued, overcome with the need to justify himself. "I am no longer suited to anticipate your every want. I can not satisfy you to the degree I once could. Everything I have to offer is bound to disappoint in comparison."

Hob's stare felt heavy, too heavy for Morpheus to hold, but as he looked away, Hob took his chin between his fingers, directing his gaze back to him.

"Love, I―. Sex is not about making some kind of... of ranking."

"Your unconscious would rank it, regardless."

"Fuck my unconscious. It's my conscious self who wants you, magic dick or not."

The corners of Hob's mouth twitched at his own joke, but seriousness soon took over.

"I love you," he said, prompting Morpheus to look away again. "I love you. I would love you Endless, I would love you human, I would love you if you were a tentacled monster and hell, you've been that before if you'd recall!"

Morpheus fought back the smile creeping up on his lips.

"I never cared how we'd fuck. Well, I did, but― I did because it was you. I wanted to be with you. I still do."

Hob sighed, and they stood in silence for a moment, looking at each other.

"At least now we know that mind of yours is well and truly yours and not a Dream of the Endless exclusive."

"An unfortunate discovery."

Hob's hand settled on Morpheus' waist, his thumb brushing the fabric of his shirt.

"I do want you," he said. "Whenever you're ready. If ever. But I don't want you holding back because you've convinced yourself I may not enjoy it well enough, according to some cosmic standard you've set for yourself."

Morpheus nodded slowly, his own thumb back to tracing the happy trail on Hob's stomach.

"I have always found you pleasing enough, after all," he dared, shooting a tentative look at Hob. "As human as you are."

Hob made a face, pulling him closer by the waist.

"Your compliments need work, duck. But I do think there's a silver lining to this whole human condition you are overlooking."

"Is that so?"

Hob smirked at him, fully conscious of how devilishly handsome that made him. He had had, after all, centuries to hone those skills. How long would it take him?

"You no longer have access to my unconscious, right?"

"I do not."

"Which means you can no longer anticipate my every want, as you said."

Now that was rubbing salt into the wound.

"Yes," he conceded with a frown.

"Well imagine how arousing it is, my love," Hob said, his eyes darker by the second, "to be able to surprise you."

A warm shiver went down Morpheus' spine, sending his pulse into a frantic race. He swallowed thickly, holding Hob's gaze.

"How arousing?"

"Very. Cock-achingly, one might say."

Morpheus glanced down, finding Hob's trousers tight, his hard cock pressing against the fabric, making his knees weak. The human body truly was weak in the most delicious way.

"I could dare you to surprise me," he teased back, his breathing loud in his ears.

"You could."

Gods, that mouth of his, Morpheus was quite certain he could be undone from that tone alone. But still.

"But should you find me displeasing, you ought to―"

The rest of his words were swallowed into a kiss, unheard and discarded, replaced by tender sighs and wanting hands, and after a while, Morpheus found he'd forgotten what they even were, his mind blissfully blank save for pleasure.

The human body was a curious thing. A highly pleasing thing, at times.

Send me a kissing prompt?

[parafic]

Mostly it's that I've been reading and absorbing fandom personalities for them (Izuna dramatic and showy, Hikaku The Sane One) for... however many years, and I'm trying to do something a bit different with their personalities, but those standard ones are still ingrained.

So for Izuna, what caught my attention is that apparently he's described in the data book as something that gets translated as 'peace-loving' or 'harmonious' (and probably other things, but those are the ones I've seen). Which is kind of a contrast to the very little we see of him, in which he seems very eager to fight and distrusting of peace.

It could just be that he's in favor of peace generally, but distrusts the Senju specifically and we just don't see his opinion on peace otherwise. But I think, combined with how Madara and the Uchiha fell apart without him, it's also reasonable (and to me, more interesting) to interpret that as a reference to someone who values/is a source of interpersonal harmony. Izuna is the one who notices and redirects a conversation before an argument starts, soothes ruffled feathers, listens to peoples' concerns and persuades them to give Madara's latest strategy a try, finds an excuse to have a celebration when people need to be cheered up, notices if a clan member is being excluded and figures out what's up and how to fix it. He keeps morale up and everyone working together.

But the flip side of that is someone who's really conflict averse (emotionally speaking), and to do all that effectively for a whole clan, he's constantly putting on different personas. So like, that common characterization where he's dramatic and demanding might be how he acts around Madara, because Madara likes having a baby brother, but he doesn't do it around anyone else. And he'll have a bunch of other different ways of acting for when he's around younger shinobi, older shinobi, various groups of elders, kids, parents, etc, based on what they expect of him/like him to be. (Everyone does this to an extent, but I'm thinking Izuna does it a lot more than most.)

And at the same time, when things upset him, he's likely to let them go because he doesn't want to start an argument, people would be upset if he asked them to stop, etc, and if he just ignores it then nobody's upset so no harm done, right? So the end result is an Izuna who's barely (if at all) more aware of his own emotions than Tobirama is, he just has a very different mask.

So from a writing perspective, that is a complicated character to write anyway, and it overlaps enough with the popular characterization I see that sometimes I'm not entirely sure which I'm writing. Also this is a weird and extreme situation that Izuna has no preestablished way of acting for, so in-story he's struggling to figure out how to act to begin with. So it's a lot to balance, basically.

Hikaku is a little simpler! The way I'm characterizing Izuna overlaps some with Hikaku's usual only sane man/The One Who Gets Things Done role, so I want to give Hikaku some other traits so that he doesn't feel redundant. I also think he deserves to get to be Uchiha dramatic sometimes too, but I don't want to just give him a copy of Madara's/Izuna's/Sasuke's usual personality.

So I'm aiming for him being quieter than they are, but without just being calm, and more willing to argue and criticize (or just snark) than Izuna usually will be. But he's also starting out in an extreme situation that has him very off kilter emotionally, so he wouldn't be acting exactly like himself anyway, so I'm trying to figure out like, his baseline personality, and also how that's going to be affected by what's going on at the same time, so it's kind of doing two steps at once. (And is part of why I've been using his POV so much; it helps me work all that out when I can just write out all his thoughts as I go.)

Honestly the tunnel visioning is probably most of what ADHD Tobirama will mean for this fic; it's more that I just looked at how I usually characterize him and went 'yeah that sounds like ADHD'. Though Hikaku mentioning that Tobirama is "even rapidly bouncing his heel against the floor the way he seems to do when deep in concentration" is a bit more deliberate reference to Tobirama showing ADHD symptoms (since fidget toys are not exactly abundant in this setting, and he'd probably consider them too undignified to use himself anyway).

The sensing bloodline limit is all me! One of those headcanons that technically kind of contradicts canon a little but like. I prefer it. (Though @domoz is using a variant in the Hanahaki-adjacent AU!)

Basically the idea is that usually, a person's chakra system is like the circulatory system: it's more or less closed off from anything external, your body produces and uses it, but anything from outside is going through the stomach or lungs or something first.

But in the Senju, chakra is a little more permeable. It's a little more like, say, the water in a bay: it's distinct from the ocean but it's not cut off from the ocean by any means, and there's always some amount of flow back and forth.

So, because they're always having a little bit of chakra flow back and forth with the chakra around them (both natural and other Senjus' chakra), they get passive sensing. Which is not entirely as useful as it sounds; range is based largely on how much chakra a person has (though they can extend it or pull it back with conscious effort) but learning to distinguish chakra signatures and place their location is difficult and much rarer for someone to be good at. Hashirama for example technically has a bigger sensing range than Tobirama, but he can't distinguish signatures or estimate distance well, so it's not much use for him. (Though he will be able to tell that Tobirama is still alive while he's trapped on the island.)

All Senju (with this trait) do have the advantage of being able to feel when another chakra signature is present though, since basically no one else knows this is a sense to hide from. Senju can also read shifts in peoples' chakra the way that other people might read facial expressions, which again other people don't usually learn to control or hide, so the Senju get a nice edge there.

(In this headcanon the sensing jutsu, which Hikaku uses in this fic and is used in canon, was invented in the past to both give allies access to some of the same information the Senju had, and to cover up that what the Senju were doing was not a jutsu. Which is why both exist.)

Senju might also have a bit of an advantage at using elemental and/or sage jutsu, because their chakra is always a little bit bleeding back and forth with natural chakra, so it's more familiar to them. Not a huge advantage though.

The vulnerability is poison. Most poisons target the physical body and very few target chakra itself (with the exception of chakra suppressing poisons, which are more common). But when a Senju is hit by something that turns their chakra toxic, it will spread to every other Senju in their range, and then in all those Senjus' ranges, and....

So best case scenario an entire team gets wiped out. More likely it's several teams in the same area. Worst case scenario someone gets hit with something while Hashirama is alive, it spreads to his chakra, and from him it spreads to every other Senju with the same trait, and that's how the Senju clan disappears.

Tobirama escapes because he happened to be in his lab at the time, which is shielded against chakra going in or out, in case he accidentally invented something chakra toxic. And some Senju, presumably including Tsunade and Nawaki, just don't have the trait to begin with so they survive. But most of the clan falls over dead within about an hour, which Senju generations ago more or less saw coming, which is why they kept the bloodline so secret and tried to breed it out.

(Some non-Senju in allied clans that intermarried would probably also have had the trait and died along with the Senju too, but I have not planned anything detailed about that because that is the bad ending AU and I don't enjoy those.)

a lot more focused on the results of interaction than the often annoyingly intricate path to get there "correctly", except people put a lot of stock on the "correct" path of behavior and WILL react weirdly if you don't follow enough of it.

Yeah! Tobirama is very focused on efficiency and getting things done, and he thinks everyone else ought to be equally focused on practicalities, so he has no interest in wasting time on being indirect.

I do think he can be polite if he has to--he's a clan heir, he's going to get stuck doing politics and diplomacy to some extent, so he doesn't really get a choice about learning this, and he's the type to learn how to be excellent at it because it's important even if he hates it. (And he's aware of appearances, demonstrated by scolding Hashirama about dignity in public and such.) But getting him to use those skills when he's not in an explicitly diplomatic setting (or maybe in disguise) isn't likely.

(Which does again make him kind of the opposite of Izuna; Izuna is compulsively diplomatic, because he sees value in building rapport and connections with as many people as possible. Izuna is building a tightly-knit community while Tobirama runs a well-oiled machine.)

You're welcome, I'm glad you like the songbirds! If you haven't read it, you might like @denialcity's hanahaki AU, for adoration grow. Somewhere in there is a scene where Izuna sings for Tobirama and Tobirama discovers that music can make him Feel Things.

(I also have equivalent headcanons for the Senju and Uzumaki collective hobbies, but they're not musical.)

Sparring will lead to yet another culture clash, in which the Uchiha decide the Senju are insane and Tobirama is judgy (after he gets over being freaked out).

The Uchiha aren't having too difficult a time; Kagami isn't old enough to know most sharingan secrets, and Ruri is old enough to know what not to say. Plus there's a general politeness norm among shinobi of not asking about clan secrets when clans are interacting in a polite way, so all the kids generally know not to ask (and probably don't know too many secrets even if they were asked).

Tobirama is having a bit more difficult a time keeping Uzumaki seals hidden, because the Uchiha can copy any seal they see him make and that would be that. But again, the Uzumaki kids are mostly either too young to know seals or old enough to remember not to share them, so Tobirama mostly has to hide his own work. Which is a bit inconvenient, but he can just tell the Uchiha to leave so he can make a seal, and can sense whether anyone is close enough to watch him, so it's workable.

They also don't really care much about other clans' secrets. If a kid from one water country clan gives something away to a kid from another, that is not their problem and they have bigger things to worry about. Rescue your own kids next time if it bothers you. Aside from the Uzumaki the clans here are too distant to be allies to either the Senju or the Uchiha, so they have no obligation to care and are already doing these clans a huge favor by rescuing their kids, keeping them alive, and eventually returning them.

Thank you! The jutsu definition headcanon is mostly Domoz's, although I did adopt it immediately.

And there actually aren't really secrets to worry about in that case! The Uchiha know that if a Senju uses a jutsu, that Senju will probably also know several 'related' jutsu; that's not something the Senju could or have attempted to hide. It's basically a semantic difference; the Senju label something on jutsu and the Uchiha label it a cluster of related jutsu, but everyone's still aware that the options exist.

Izuna specifically has been expecting Tobirama to show up with a 'new' water dragon jutsu for some time, so his reaction is more along the lines of 'of COURSE you can do this now'. Though he WILL be annoyed at Tobirama insisting that they're all one jutsu. Izuna takes pride in how many jutsu Tobirama has invented to fight him with, stop trying to ruin his score!

(It will probably come up very late, though; the most likely prompt for this is Tobirama being introduced to the Uchiha jutsu library, and that is a post-relationship thing motivated maybe by Izuna and Hikaku innocently trying to give him a gift and possibly by hopes of interesting him in the sex jutsu section.)

Tobirama has at minimum collected some hints about Uchiha organization! He's trying to figure out exactly how hierarchy works between Izuna and Hikaku, and who Hikaku is that he seems to sometimes have equal authority to Izuna.

The Senju have basically one hierarchy: Hashirama at the top, Tobirama second, and everyone in charge of various things they've delegated answering to them. War and missions are all built into the same system, and shinobi are sent where their talents are needed, because the down side to having a wide variety of talents is that you often only have one or two people that can do any specific thing. So a Senju who's good at sneaking in and stealing things, for example, will be sent to steal the enemies' battle plans and that valuable vase some lord wants but can't buy.

The Uchiha basically all learn the same style of fighting, the same types of jutsu, etc; obviously there's some variety but nothing compared to the Senju. They also might just have more people in general. So they have basically two hierarchies; the war/battle shinobi (who are led by Madara and Izuna) and the mission shinobi (who Hikaku is in charge of). The two operate in parallel, and shinobi generally only are part of one, not both (other than kids/young shinobi still figuring out where they fit).

(This could also have gone the other way around, and had the clan head running missions primarily and someone else handling the war. But uh, Madara and Izuna are both very war-oriented. In other generations it's been different.)

As a result of that, since they're on a mission, Hikaku is actually officially in charge here. But Izuna is the clan heir (and functional co-clan head) in addition to co-head of the war, so Hikaku is used to deferring to him and Izuna is used to being in charge, and Tobirama's presence is another argument for Izuna to take the lead because Hikaku has no personal experience with Tobirama. So Hikaku and Izuna are kind of unclear on who's in charge here, which is fine because they trust and respect each other and agree on their goals.

So that's what was going on when they're trying to plan how to attack, and Izuna says he's outvoted and makes Hikaku do the negotiating instead; if Izuna was actually in charge of the mission he couldn't be outvoted. And Tobirama doesn't know exactly what's up there but he's sure something is, so he's Observing. (And also why he asked about whether Izuna would follow the plan he and Hikaku made; he expects Izuna to outrank Hikaku the same way Tobirama would outrank any teammates he had on a mission, and Tobirama wouldn’t necessarily be obligated to keep an agreement/follow a plan any other Senju made, so he thinks it’s weird and suspicious that Hikaku is making the plans instead of Izuna.)

He was also fishing for information during the "you deserve to suffer slightly less than bloodline thieves" exchange; he's trying to figure out Izuna's opinions on peace/alliance, since that's a thing Hashirama wants.

(But also yes, he feels very bad about giving away the healing jutsu thing and will try to apologize to Hashirama about it when he gets the chance.)

That works really well for the limits on Hiraishin! It did always seem odd to me that two unrelated people could use it but no one else. (Though for Typhoon Island it's just not invented yet, otherwise Tobirama could teleport off the island and we wouldn't have weeks of pining to inflict on them all.)

...are you trying to show off for the pretty guys, Tobira? >__>

XD Not quite yet! (I mean, he might have been trying with the first fish, but that was general pride + "see I am a Useful Ally, now how about we stop this whole 'war' thing".) With the second fish he's just very sneakily being a little shit, because he thinks them freaking out over An Ordinary Fish is funny. (And unimpressive. But he can judge them AND laugh at them just fine.)

(He won't admit it. But this is the Tobirama version of a prank.)

You're welcome, and thank you! I'm really enjoying getting to talk about all this.

@starstuffduster You are SO right about needing distractions, unfortunately I am working overtime so it will be even later than usual before I can write

(Do send me lots of asks though! I'm off tomorrow so I can write plenty then)

In the meantime, have a couple of incomplete later scenes from Typhoon Island (which will probably get rewritten but they're fun for now)

Hikaku finds Tobirama sitting under the ledge, where the rain is blocked but some light still filters in.  His eyes are closed, and his face is perfectly blank as he traces ink blindly over his face and throat.  A seal, clearly, though what it’s meant to do, Hikaku can’t imagine.

Tobirama is too skilled not to have noticed him, even rapidly bouncing his heel against the floor the way he seems to do when deep in concentration.  How Tobirama managed to train his skills so that he is always aware of the people near him, but has missed sunrise, sunset, food placed beside him, and being rained on, all in the few weeks they’ve been here, Hikaku still hasn’t figured out.  But a surprised shinobi reacts violently, and Tobirama is no exception, as proven by the times a sudden movement has startled him.

So Hikaku knows Tobirama is ignoring him for several minutes.  As Tobirama is currently placing the most intricate seal Hikaku has ever seen on his own face, and doing it blindly, that’s more than reasonable.

Tobirama stops abruptly, his heel landing sharply on the stone.  Hikaku doesn’t glimpse the handseal that pulls rain into a bubble over Tobirama.  The bubble bursts and splashes over Tobirama’s face, blurring most of the seal and drawing the ink in distracting trails down his throat.

Hikaku sets that aside for later.  “Difficulties with the seal?” he asks.

“Obviously,” Tobirama says shortly.  He wipes some of the water off of his throat, smearing the sealwork there further.

Hikaku still doesn’t know whether Tobirama is aware of his own rudeness.  He has learned that ignoring it is usually enough to end it.  “Would a mirror help?”

Hikaku doesn’t have a mirror, and neither does Izuna.  But they could probably work out something adequately reflective, if the seal is important.

“Hmm.  Unlikely,” Tobirama decides.  He unfolds from the rock he was sitting on and starts back toward the main cavern, and he’s still somehow taller than Hikaku remembers.  “The seal is meant to be used in groups, applied to each other.  The difficulty is in applying it backwards.  Seeing it would likely be a distraction.”

Hikaku will never comprehend the Senju mind.  “What sort of seal is it?”

Tobirama hums.  It takes several seconds for him to answer, and they get close enough for Izuna’s voice to reach them, slightly distorted, singing a children’s training song.  Several of the children have joined in, with a much larger range in skill than Hikaku expected children so old to have.

Mostly in the direction of less skill.  Do other clans teach their children nothing except to fight?

“It is a snorkeling seal,” Tobirama says.  “By drawing on the user’s chakra, it draws air from the surface into their lungs, and allows them to remain under water indefinitely.”

An incredibly useful seal, then.  It would be a deeply concerning one as well, except that most of its uses are pointless in Fire Country.  Fire Country has many streams and creeks, but even the Nakano, which is the largest river in the country, is only rarely deep enough for a person to truly hide in its depths.  Mostly, a submerged shinobi would only look like a fool, trying to hide a few feet below the surface of clear water.

But in a place like Water Country, much less these Whirlpool islands… Hikaku is glad that the Uchiha so rarely venture outside of Fire Country.

Still, it gives him an idea.  “If it is not given chakra, does it do anything?”

“No.”

“So it’s safe?”

The question earns a quick flick of Tobirama’s eyes in his direction, before they return to the tunnel ahead.  “Children use it.”

“If you were to draw it on me, then,” Hikaku says, and even having concluded there would be no danger, his heart rate picks up, “Izuna could watch, and draw it on you.”

Tobirama pauses, a fractional delay in his steps as he glances in Hikaku’s direction again, this time longer, almost actually looking.  But he shakes his head.  “It is an Uzumaki seal.”

“I have not yet found a limit on the complexity of what the sharingan can copy,” Hikaku says.

“The Uzumaki are protective of their secrets.”

Ah.  A different issue than Hikaku assumed.  The Uzumaki are Senju allies, but it’s not a seal for war.  “Is it that valuable?  I can’t see it being used often in Fire Country.  I’ve never seen a river or lake large enough to hide in.”

“Fire Country doesn’t have lakes; we only have ponds,” Tobirama says, as if reciting the opinion.  “Every seal is valuable.  If not for its own effect, then for what it will teach about sealing.”

“I see.”

Izuna stops singing the moment they reach the cavern, and most of the children break off after him, uncoordinated.  Kagami continues alone, his voice clear until he finishes the verse.

“Izuna-san is teaching us Uchiha music!” [Uzukid] announces.  Izuna’s face goes strained.

“Is it very similar to Uzumaki music?” Tobirama asks, apparently interested, which sets all the kids off.  Uchiha music isn’t much like Uzumaki music at all; the [idk water bloodline] have some similar music but it’s not [waterkid]’s favorite; the Hyuuga have the same song, with only a few different words.  Tobirama listens with solemn interest.

As soon as every child has shared their comparisons, Tobirama focuses on [Uzutween].  “[Uzutween], are you familiar with the snorkeling seal?”

She nods, looking slightly confused by the question.

“Good,” Tobirama says.  “Come with me; I am going to use it to go fishing, and I am not able to apply it to myself.”

--

“Look!  Abalone!”

[Uzukid] is grinning when Hikaku glances over, holding up a palm-length, brown shell with six holes in a line and oddly triangular spots.  She, of course, is looking at Tobirama, who pauses in his demonstration of prying mussels off the rocks to seriously examine the shell she hands over.

“Very good,” Tobirama says, and hands the shell back to her.  “Your family works with abalone, don’t they?”

“Yeah!”

Tobirama nods again, and turns to include the other children in his explanation.  “We likely won’t find many abalone here, but they’re valuable and harmless, so collect any that you see.  [Uzukid], would you like to explain how to identify them?”

“Yeah!”

The rest of the kids cluster around and [Uzukid] holds up the shell, pointing out the shape, colors, and shiny interior.  The Uzumaki eat the snails, and make the shells into all kinds of jewelry and decoration.

Tobirama listens, but his eyes keep sliding away, scanning the pool and the area nearby.  Izuna glances over, sharingan flicking on to catch the image of the abalone’s shell, and then goes back to hunting through a pool closer to the water.  Hikaku listens while he keeps prying mussels off of stone and tossing them up the beach toward dry land.

The kids spread out again, now mostly ignoring the abundant mussels as they stick their faces in the water and peer under rocks in search of abalone.  [Uzukid] turns rocks over a little more strategically, and keeps chattering.  “An’ when you grind the shells up really good, you mix ‘em in with ink and make star seals!  That’s what my family does, for the whole village!”

“What are star seals, [Uzukid]?” Tobirama asks.

“You’ve seen them!  On the roofs!”

“I have, but not everyone here has,” Tobirama says.  “Kagami, do you know what star seals are?”

“Not yet!” Kagami chirps.

“They’re sparkly!  And bright!”  [Uzukid] gestures, hands flying out in a burst of implied light.  “We put ‘em on the edges of the roofs so the old shinobi don’t fall at night!”

[Uzukid]’s descriptions make it sound as if every day is a festival in Uzushio.  It’s a shame, Hikaku thinks, that he won’t get to see it.  But the Uzumaki have been the Senju’s allies almost as long as the Uchiha have been their enemies.  Hikaku will no more be allowed to see Uzushio than Tobirama’s bedroom.

“What if they’re too bright?” Kagami asks.

“They’re not!” [Uzukid] declares indignantly.  “They’re star seals, not… not sea-glare seals, or something!”

Kagami nods seriously.

“Seals that create a bright light as their primary effect are called flash seals,” Tobirama says.

“Yeah!  They’re not flash seals!”

“But flash seals are one of the primary types of seal which Uchiha encounter,” Tobirama says.  “So it’s reasonable for Kagami to think of them.”

“And fire seals,” Kagami adds.

“Explosive tags,” Tobirama corrects.

“Izuna-sama hates those,” Kagami shares.  “He says fire’s ours so it’s not fair Senju can fake it without learning real jutsu.”

Tobirama smirks, a flicker at the corner of his mouth that vanishes before he raises his voice enough to make it carry.  “Well, next time he says that, you may tell him that Senju use fire jutsu, too; he just hasn’t seen.  And he should know better than to make assumptions like that.”

Kagami grins and nods.  A few other children giggle.

Izuna looks thoroughly annoyed, but he turns away instead of saying anything.  He’ll have plenty to say later, Hikaku is sure, once Tobirama and the kids are out of hearing, but for now he tosses his hair back and peers deliberately into the water.

“Are there lots of kinds of seals, Senju-sensei?” Kagami asks.

“More than I can list at once,” Tobirama says.  “Seals are even more varied than jutsu, only less commonly used.  Now, how many mussels have you found?”

The Uchiha are collectors of jutsu.  Every jutsu that any Uchiha has seen since the beginning of the clan is recorded, both in written form and in memories passed down across the generations.  Many of those jutsu are useless—there are dozens of campfire-lighting jutsu, invented by different clans in different countries and different generations, and the Uchiha only need one.  But they are kept anyway, for any who want to study jutsu creation, or in case an Uchiha needs to disguise themselves as a member of another clan.

Among those jutsu are thousands that have no use at all in war.  Jutsu to make food more flavorful, to shape wood and metal and stone with greater precision than a handheld tool, to send messages, to embellish dance, to amplify music or sensation.  Most Uchiha learn a handful of them.  Jutsu for singing and sex are the most popular, and those that are useful with various crafts.  Hikaku has at least glanced through most sections of the library, looking for interesting options.  Each recorded jutsu also records the source, and every Senju jutsu Hikaku has ever seen is for war.  Hikaku used to be sure that meant the Senju simply didn’t know or use jutsu for anything other than battle, sabotage, and the like.

But once this season is over he’s going to have to go home and add an entire new section to the library for jutsu that heal.  Not merely by shaping a needle out of a broken blade or pulling gravel out of wounds, but actively.  It’s still technically for war, but it’s an entire category of jutsu that the Uchiha didn’t even know were possible, which the Senju seem to have been using for generations, the way Tobirama acted about it.

So maybe, being a Senju, Tobirama doesn’t know the full variety of uses jutsu can have.  Or maybe the Senju are very good at keeping secrets, and seals can do things Hikaku hasn’t even imagined.

It really is a shame that he’ll never see the Uzumaki compound.

Hikaku pries the last mussel worth eating off the rocks, tosses it into the pile with the rest, and straightens.  The children are enthusiastic, but very distracted by all the unfamiliar creatures in the pools, and Tobirama is similarly distracted by watching and teaching them all.

Hikaku and Izuna, then, will have to do most of the foraging.  Which isn’t worrying, really; Hikaku is no longer concerned about starving while they’re trapped on this island.  But he’d rather not eat every meal from the same single fish for a week again, nor would he like to see what bigger fish Tobirama could possibly find. 

[this is followed by Hikaku picking up a blue ringed octopus, and Tobirama being Totally Rational And Calm And Not Panicking in response. As he always is, of course]

[fallenseaofstars]

Argenti headcanons

🌹 Tags: Afab g/n reader, Smut/Fluff, established relationship, obsessive Argenti once again 😍, size difference kink, belly bulge, creampie, idk what else to tag 💔

🌹 A/N: sorry I tried making him as accurate to canon but he's a bit of a freak in my eyes (not in the kinky way but in the questionable way)

Argenti is a gentleman, he loves to be sensual and treat you like royalty, so naturally the aftercare is top notch! No matter how tired he is (unlikely that he's tired to begin with) he'll always make sure to clean you well, get the bed ready and pepper you with many many kisses <3 He will never leave until you're fully taken care of

Raging size difference kink. He can't quite pinpoint why exactly he's so into it but all he knows is that he can't help himself when he sees just how much smaller you are to him- believe me he has had to learn a new level of self control around you...

He's really big and absolutely loves seeing you take all him, has accidentally overstimulated you before but can you blame him? The way your pussy takes all of his cock and how his cum drips down you ... one round is not enough to please him.

Belly bulge is almost a guarantee everytime he fucks you and yes, it makes him very hard seeing how deep he fucks you

Pleasure dom but can also be sub. He absolutely loves spoiling you no matter how greedy you get, but he also enjoys being spoiled! He won't outwardly admit this however so make sure every once in a while you take good care of him, he deserves it~ ❤️

Worships you like a god(dess) regardless if he's top or bottom, it's almost embarrassing hearing his over the top compliments but he means every word! He loves spending a while just kissing your entire body, his kisses are so soft and full of love, and they linger in the areas that you're most self conscious about! To him, everything about you is beautiful, no matter what you think of yourself!

Loves it when you take the lead, he'll do whatever you ask of him like an obedient little puppy~ just kiss him a few more times and he's already head over heels for you! (Not that he already isn't though) When you ride him and threat him like a whore he cums even faster than usual. He can't decide if he prefers when you're gentle and loving or when you're mean and harsh.

Big praise kink, even when you're mean to him you should still praise him~

Into bondage as well, loves it no matter who's the one tied up! When you're the one tied up he loves to blindfold you as well and whisper to you everything that he will/is doing to you. He's very comforting when you're blindfolded but you can feel his voice go deeper than usual which makes you all the more hot for him

Now when you tie him up...he becomes a complete mess. He whines and moans, his body shaking so much that you almost feel bad for not letting him touch you, but that's just part of the fun, no? Again, cums a lot faster in this state

He cums a lot- and quickly too. You're lucky he has so much stamina since he cums way before you even come close. After you're both done the bed/wherever you fucked is very very messy- makes him a bit embarrassed but also loves seeing it as a way of claiming you as his own~

Also has a breeding kink, even if you can't have kids hes simply just obsessed with the idea of filling you up and having so many kids with you~

CW: Dub-con and cnc (roleplay kidnapping)

Overall he's very loving, no matter how you want him to fuck you he'll do it and praise you so much while doing so! You're his beloved little rose and he absolutely loves everything about you! ❤️

Although you're his priority and he wants to make sure you enjoy every second of it, he's still quite...obsessive over you- which can lead to him forgetting that this is reality and will fuck the living light out of you to the point that it's just painful- at some point he'll make sure you're okay but he's quick to go back and fucking you dumb

He's a bit addicted to roleplaying as if he kidnapped you, tying you to his bed and just fucking your pretty face drives him insane <3 You spend a lot of time before hand making clear each other's boundaries, and even while roleplaying he can't help but ask if your ok and compliments you so much

[wikiangela]

last line tag

tagged by @jesuisici33 @thewolvesof1998 @daffi-990 @jamespearce9-1-1 @lover-of-mine @hippolotamus @disasterbuckdiaz 💖💖

___

It’s a good few weeks, and it feels like everyone’s back on track, settling into their lives again, figuring everything out one day at a time. Buck’s happy. He has his awesome girlfriend, his best friend seems finally more at ease, even if the divorce is adding some stress, and his other best friend is happier than ever with his mom around. Everything’s finally starting to go great.

And then it all gets disrupted again.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @diazblunt @911onabc @spagheddiediaz @housewifebuck @gayhoediaz @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @exhuastedpigeon @weewootruck @loserdiaz @evanbegins @steadfastsaturnsrings @ladydorian05 @malewifediaz @pirrusstuff @theotherbuckley @911-on-abc @spotsandsocks @hoodie-buck @giddyupbuck @wildlife4life @fortheloveofbuddie @nmcggg @diazpatcher @jeeyuns

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Lmao ignore me if u want but I have two questions

How would Kai be as a werewolf alpha???

And if he was a demigod like percy Jackson would would he be the son of???????

Here is a picture of our pookie as an apology

First of all, that gif is making me absolutely FERAL. Second, I want to bite him. [you have a lovely clavicle; i'm a neck person; that's just silly, you can't stop being a neck person] Third, you never bother me, I promise! I love answering these & talking to you through them (& comments)! I've just been so out of sorts lately with my home life and work life - both chaotic - but desperately have been needing to get back in the swing of things in terms of writing / posting / answering!

Now, to tackle these questions that have both brought hearts to my eyes... (and I was so excited, I made dividers to split them up)

tw: some nsfw (can I even write that on tumblr anymore?) on the wolf portion, but no warnings on the demigod part

#1 - werewolf alpha kai

FUCK

do notttt get me started on wolf kai; how the fuuuck have I not wolf-i-fied him yet 😭😭

okay. I had it down so bad for jacob in the great edward vs jacob debacle of the 2000s. I was OBSESSED with wolves / werewolves in general, too

funnily enough, I don't give a damn for the wolves in tvd. Tyler's fine. Hayley is fine in TO (not tvd tho lmao). The rest in TVD / TO are whatever; the ones in Legacies are HORRID

BUT wolf!kai would be sooo hot; alpha wolf kai especially, oh heaven help me

this man is already dominant & controlling, and with his SO, protective, but add that wolf gene and he's tenfold

he'd be an absolute menace... to damon, to tyler, to mystic falls in general, & maybe even to klaus... & to my ovaries...

starting off, let's just picture him as a wolf

i was actually thinking about this the other day... what if the actual reason that he was "an abomination" was if he had the wolf gene on top of the siphon gene somehow. like, joshua wasn't his real father, or his mother wasn't his real mother, idk, but joshua HATES him for it (kinda like klaus)

kai's childhood is the same - violent, abusive, isolated - and he ends up in the '94 PW the same way, but while kai shows damon and bonnie his ability to siphon, he never reveals the wolf part

when he gets back to the real world, he's going to have to transition again, bc he's no longer on a repeating loop of the same day, so he carefully plans for this

he makes sporadic disappearances throughout the month, so that no one ever catches on to him being absent on full moons

the only reason he's caught, is because [reader] stumbles upon him entering / coming off his transition, but lucky she's been crushing on him or is a wolf herself

if i were to write this out, this is as much plot as i've developed. i would add a bit in there, too, where she mentions klaus, maybe she has a connection to him, and they both can commiserate on their similar childhoods together

but that's all i've got so far; idk if i'm doing anything with it

regardless, wolfy kai!

SO

he'd be so much more temperamental & combative

if damon were to know, he'd be like, oh ffs not another one

but this gene also makes him stronger than if he were just a witch

imagine Tyler's fondness for fight picking + Kai's own flirty / cocky attitude + werewolf lore behavior + alpha behavior, and you've got a dangerous mix wrapped up in one very attractive man, i mean, just look at the gif

whether you're a wolf or not, he puts himself in charge of protecting you, even if you're quite capable of defending yourself

he has to have an arm or a leg wrapped around you, too, and is always on alert, even in his sleep

is also a very cuddly sleeper, is a big spoon, and will throw a fit if he can't sleep with you for some reason

when he's alone with you, he's his usual goofy self, and maybe takes a second to get himself under control in serious situations

but also as an alpha, still knows when to snap into his dominant demeanor when the situation calls for it

now... i've thought up several different scenarios where we could have wolfy kai... and since i'm me, i also have an nsfw section

...so here's that one first

breeding kink would be off the charts

especially as an alpha, where it's so innate, and if he has a pack, a desire to keep it going & keep it strong

and like tyler mentioned, "being horny all the time"

huge biting kink, but only if you're a wolf, too

play bites as a way to show affection, but bites during sex, too

bites in places visible to others; always marking you as his

again, dominant, and would be one to pin you down or keep a hand on your throat as a means of control

would be so into praising you, during & after, telling you how well you did & how proud he is (& how good of a mom you're gonna be jfdsnls)

on the flip side, i don't think he'd be much into exhibitionism / voyeurism because he'd want you all for himself & would not want anyone to see you in one of your most vulnerable states

however, if you were in a pack and someone was hitting on you & not taking any hints that you're taken, he'd probably engage it in to some degree just to teach that someone a lesson that you're his

wolf!reader x wolf!kai

when you're nesting, he's already getting excited. tries to stick his nose in your business, though, and several times, you've bitten his nose to get him out of your space, but he just gets more excited

when ~the time~ finally comes, he tries to control himself, but sometimes gets lost in the pleasure

you have to safeword somewhat often, which he always respects

and his aftercare is always perfect, regardless if you used the word or not

outside of the sexual realm, you are always together

it takes some time to sink into his stubborn head, but you protect him as much as he protects you, and he's very grateful for it

the two of you are your own little pack

and tyler is very jealous of it

eyes roll all across the room when you enter, because the MF gang is pre-preparing for the sass and stubbornness they're about to face; you compliment him well, much to their dismay

but on the bright side, he kills much less, and only threatens or kills if someone threatens himself or you

on a side note, i can see tyler trying to recreate your bond with liv, and her not wanting any part of that wolfishness

she will date him but she won't engage with that, especially considering tyler's wolf-associated anger issues, and kai being her brother who she wants nothing to do with

...but, she has to hand it to you for getting him under control & to her absolute disbelief that it could happen, loving him the way you do (jo, too, is practically astonished, however grateful - he is her twin, after all)

non-wolf!reader x wolf!kai

now, if you're a vamp, he has to be very careful not to bite

tricky during sex sometimes; difficult when you insist on helping him transition

it's much of a caroline x tyler thing; you refuse to leave him but he's terrified of hurting you

whether you're human, or a witch, or a vampire, he could hurt you, and the thought terrifies him

is insistent on a buddyship with damon or stefan, so that they can call klaus if an emergency ever occurs

both are reluctant, but are friends with you, and if something ever does happen, they'd hate for you to suffer, so they do

klaus gets involved & he and kai bond more than anyone would've anticipated

maybe kai reminds klaus a bit of himself - his childhood, his difficult relationships with his siblings, his fancy for one person in particular; maybe kai also reminds him a bit of kol, his own brother with a head full of sarcasm & jokes and a penchant for violence

although, if this is alpha!kai, klaus would notice that immediately and would have an, oh shit, this kid's powerful, moment that would knock him off his feet

kai might not even realize the strength he has, or he does, but doesn't let on to anyone that he knows how powerful he is

regardless of which, klaus knows he has to stay on his good side, and maybe he tells stefan to do the same for his own good

as long as no one becomes a threat, kai keeps his cool, but that alpha side comes out when he's protecting you or himself

and that, for whoever poor soul, is fucking terrifying

#2 - demigod parent

alright... first thought was Hades bc he's so dark & eerie

then I was like nah, way too much of a basic answer, just to tag anyone with a closed off personality and dark clothes as a Hades' kid (don't get me wrong, I love Nico, but in comparison, he & Kai are nothing alike)

Kai just doesn't have the personality of Hades' kids; he is way more than the dark witch he's made out to be by writers

he's extremely talkative, rather lively, & outgoing

ofc he's got that unpredictability & hair-raising ability to slink around like a cat without being noticed (i.e. stalking damon and bonnie for 4 months without their knowledge), but he doesn't scream child of Hades when we learn how talkative and touchy he actually is

so then, bc I haven't read PJO in 6 years, I did some research

Ares became a possibility... he's got some anger issues & is good with a knife

however, he doesn't seem like a child of war

most of his childhood, we can assume, he spent trying to avoid his father's anger & disapproval

sibling murder was the last resort for a depressed, distanced kid who was taught life didn't matter as long as the coven survived

and as vengeful and argumentative as he is, I wouldn't put him in a box with Clarisse, who picked fights 24/7

Hecate came to mind, but as a siphon, I think maybe not

if it was Hecate, he'd probably be outcasted by his half-siblings (and then I'd have to fight them, and it'd be a whole thing), so I took Hecate out of the choices

then, after more research, the obvious answer became Hermes

Kai is such a little shit

he's funny, sarcastic, and just seems like the guy to love a good prank

he's very smart, and can be manipulative if he wants / needs to be

his half siblings would more or less equal him in intelligence and personality, so he wouldn't feel the need to slice & dice them

(and also, doesn't Hermes have the most kids? bc his parents had a fuck ton of kids, so Kai would totally be used to having SO MANY siblings)

(plus unclaimed kids stayed in Hermes' cabin & Kai knows what it's like to be a family reject; they can commiserate)

not to mention, Luke was a child of Hermes, and I vaguely remember he went a little dark & crazy, too

granted, that could happen to anyone, but I can see Kai & Luke being like, hey, half-sibling, ~you're just as sane as I am~

now...

I also considered Aphrodite, and stay with me, bc he's so fucking gorgeous (I mean, again, look at that gif), and it would be cool to have a child of love with his emotions so turned off

imagine his father was so abusive (which he was), that Kai was so shut off when he got to camp

everyone shared rumors about his parentage; whispers of Hades circulated the most

but then it's Aphrodite who claims him, and everyone, Kai included, is shocked

for awhile, his siblings kinda outcast him & he's feeling it; he has definitely considered running away

but someone gives him a chance, maybe someone who feels equally unlike their godly parent approaches him & gains his trust, or maybe it's someone who doesn't like to see others treated the way his half-siblings are treating him

either way, he slowly opens up to them & begins to trust them; they return these feelings to him

with time, he gets fiercely protective & caring towards that person; he shows love in his own ways

eventually, his siblings start to see it & open up to him

once Kai realizes they're being genuine, he shows them similar attention, care, & protection

he might not be the typical child of Aphrodite, but his dulled emotions start to come through once he's given a chance & a safe space

... But as much as I love this headcanon, I say he's 100% child of Hermes. He just fits the bill completely, and I freaking love it.