#Lol little float now but he’ll be able to do much more in the future

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #142 Part 2

His parents had spent years working on their portal, to the point where they were neglecting their own children. Danny didn’t know any better, neither did Jazz. To them it was just how their family ran and for the most part it worked for them. It allowed Danny to really study space and the Stars. His room was covered with different ship models on the shelves, glow in the dark stars on the ceiling and posters on the walls.

Jazz had similarly explored her own thoughts and topics as she studied Psychology. Her room was more feminine but still had a certain scientific decorum to it.  

He never thought that he’d suddenly be ripped from all the things he loved. But here he was with the trench coat man, instead of taking some biology class or something.

“What happened with the portal?” Danny asked.

The man took a long sigh, “listen… quite a lot of shit went down after your accident.” 

“That tells me nothing,” Danny glared at the man.

“I get your upset kid, but let me at least know your name. Mine's John Constantine,” 

“…Danny,” Danny muttered after a moment. He wasn’t sure he trusted the man but he guessed he had no choice. He was also noticing he felt a bit off, it was the weirdest gut feeling and Danny was having trouble telling exactly what the feeling was. It was like the feeling was telling him to trust John, although at the same time John had this weird feeling about him that had Danny feeling weary. He decided to trust John just a little, hopefully it got him back home, after a moment Danny spoke again, “…Can you at least tell me if the portal worked?”

The room was silent for a moment and then John spoke “Alright, fine, I’ll tell you what happened but some background first, do you know who the ancients are?” 

The name didn’t sound familiar, “Ancients? Like Ancient Aliens or something?” 

“No, no…” John took a swig from a flask in his pocket and then started fiddled with an unlit cigarette he pulled from a different pocket. He then looked Danny up and down, “You don’t know the first thing about the infinite realms do you?”

“The what?” None of this was making any sense and the more Danny talked to this guy the more he was getting a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Something about this conversation felt wrong, like Danny should know all of this already but he just didn’t. 

“Right well… I guess the easiest way to explain this is the portal your parents made was to the infinite realms.” John said, putting the cigarette in his mouth.

“My parents called it the Ghost Zone.” Danny muttered.

John seemed to chuckle at that, “I mean it is mainly inhabited by ghosts, however they aren’t the only ones, far from it in fact. I’m sorry but… I couldn’t allow your parents unlimited access to the realms. I had to disable it and prevent it from being reactivated.”

Danny felt a little disheartened after hearing that, he guessed John was probably right though. He remembered hearing his parents talk about how they’d dissect every ghost they found to study them. The bully’s at his school often bullied Danny over it especially after his dad and mom would continually embarrass him on parent teacher nights and on field trips.

Danny let out a small sigh, “so when can I go home?”

John looked a little surprised, his eyebrow quirked up, “so you're unaware of your situation right now?”

“Situation?” Danny trailed off, he remembered getting shocked and then he remembered waking up here, “where are we?”

John let out another sigh, “shit, well from my research you're supposed to know everything about your powers when you wake up.”

This made no sense to Danny, powers? Danny didn’t have powers, he didn't have the meta-gene.

“Powers? I don’t have the meta-gene. I think you have the wrong person.” Danny stated as he folded his arms in front of himself.

“Then how are you floating?” John asked with a smirk.

Danny looked down and he indeed was floating just an inch off the bed, he wondered when that started but the feeling threw him off a little as he stumbled a little trying to keep himself upright. It didn’t work and he fell back down on the bed with a little thud. He turned to see John watching him with a small hint of amusement in his eyes. 

“What am I?” Danny asked, his voice small and a little panicked.

“You, Danny Fenton, are an Ancient. I know the term makes it seem like you're old but the term is more because your people are ancient in age.” The explanation made no sense to Danny but he could somehow float now. He thought the term ‘Ancient’ was a little much for some floating powers.

[nagito-kissmaeda]

Yandere Komaeda Headcanons submitted by Chaos under the cut (y) Warnings: Slight nsfw, yandere behavior, stalking, mention of suicide, masturbation (not very explicit.)

Yandere Nagito probably wasn't very Yandere before you came along. The unlucky boy was probably still the funky little creep to his classmates as always but as soon as you step through the doorway of 77-B's classroom then he kind of just thought, "Oh, they're pretty." And continued with his day. He didn't think too much of you.

If you were an ultimate who walked into the classroom, he wouldn't have thought much of it besides the idea that "YoU wErE sPrEaDiNg HoPe 😩"

If you were a reserve course student, on the other hand, he would think he is slightly superior. So, if you talk to him he'll feel like he's better than you but won't say anything except under certain circumstances (ex: You ask him for his opinion of you, his opinion on reserve course, that kind of stuff. At least, he's honest :/) But keep in mind, he only really acts like this when you two first meet.

After getting to form a friendship with you (however that happened, I'll leave that up to you), his crush on you takes shape quickly.

He mostly just did small stuff that made it obvious that he liked you (whether he realized it or not.) If you weren't around he'd be asking everyone in sight if they knew where you were. He'd linger uncomfortably close to you whenever you two were together. The unlucky boy also tended to...✨follow✨ you.

Bestie, run while you still can 🏃‍♀️💨 because after he kidnaps you you're gonna be more like ♿

(I guess that's assuming you can run at all...sorry if I offended someone ._.)

When you two are hanging out, he eventually opens up to you about his illnesses and past. All of what he told you would probably be a lot to process so the only thing you can think of besides, "I'm so sorry that happened to you," is that you just hug him. Now he's shocked. You're both shocked. wOAH! Nagito doesn't move at all during the hug and probably forgot to breathe because c'mon...homie hasn't received any form of physical affection for God knows how long. He's drawing a total blank and the first words that spring to his mind are, "I'm going to marry them."

You cannot tell me this man doesn't want to get married one day. Yes, his luck sucks fat juicy butt but it's just something he craves and can be selfish about. Nagito's opinion on his want for having a spouse goes back and forth, like how the fitness gram pacer test works (I bet some of you don't even know that this is something outside of a meme lol.) He probably got this desire from seeing how bad his parents' relationship was.

Nerdy headcanon stuff you don't have to read: So, it isn't canon that his parents had a bad relationship but I imagine that they did because Nagito mentions that his mom had never complimented him and he gained a massive inheritance after his family's death. Let me explain my logic on those. Nagito's mom probably never complimented him because she didn't like or want him. I also headcanon that his parents were in an arranged marriage which is why they were so rich and why I think they had a bad relationship, because let's be honest, not all arranged couples are comfortable with one another. The arranged marriage also could've been the reason why his family was wealthy, it could have had to do with business and work. So to wrap it all up, Nagito's parents are rich because of an arranged marriage and they don't really like each other and they had a kid that neither of them wanted so now it's a broken family with a fucked up kid. I know that sounds like a stretch but that's why it's a headcanon and not actually canon lol.

After that one hug, that's when he truly sees you as some sort of ethereal Deity that he was sure he was going to wed in the future (Hell, he'd probably settle for right there, right now.) He no longer cared if you were an ultimate or not because now he saw you as something even greater. Of course, he still views himself as scum but even scum has desires that they are willing to do anything for.

After Nagito had come back to his dorm, the realization hit him that if he was going to marry you, he would have to be worthy of your hand in marriage. So, he prepares. By that I mean he starts stalking you a lot.

You two were already friends on social media so you probably didn’t dwell too much on it when you found him accidentally liking old posts. He’d go on your socials and scroll through it looking for every little bit of information he could find on you. Sometimes he'd strike gold and other times he'd dig up dirt. Nagito began talking to you a lot more so he could gain some information on your likes and dislikes. You only assumed that he was more comfortable with talking to you now because he confided his troubles in you but in reality he was planning your future life with him. Once in a while you'd invite to your dorm whether it was for hangouts, study sessions, or just sleepovers (he absolutely LOVED it when you brought those up.) The only opening he had to steal stuff is when you went to the bathroom and when that happened all he'd do every single time is go to the closet, grab another one of the pillow cases that the dorm provides, and switch them out with your current ones. When the pillowcase stops smelling like you then he just sticks it in the school's laundry basket where things like bed sheets, pillow cases, and blankets that belong to the school go.

After weeks after weeks of obtaining bits and pieces of information on you such as food you like and dislike, what your family is like (If you/your oc has one), your favorite movies, music genres, and clothing, etc., He eventually realized that he lacked three more things. Romance, experience, and…"performance."

The one thing he absolutely needed to learn first was "How to kiss." Even though no one sees his search history besides him, it was still very  embarrassing to put those words on his computer. He typed those three letters into the google machine and ta-da! A wikihow page and a YouTube video were apparently his best options. He opted for the latter and watched as a lady and her boyfriend demonstrated how to perform different types of kisses. Intimate and sexual. He feels awkward just watching this and he feels like he should practice but...on what? Luckily for him, there is a perfectly good pillow lying on his bed.

...This was definitely weird. His chapped lips were pressed against the plush pillow as he imagined he was french kissing you. This doesn't seem like the greatest method but Nagito doesn't seem to have any other choice.

The pillow in front of me was wrinkled and slightly wet from where I had last kissed it. It felt beyond awkward to kiss a pillow and imagine it was your future partner. I couldn't imagine them walking in on me as my face was buried in a pillow while moaning out muffled noises. It would be far too embarrassing but, I've faced worse. Practice should continue or else my mouth will never come as even a fraction of pleasure to my love. I approach the pillow and lay, stomach down, on my bed again. While this has been an awkward situation, my insides are starting to feel like they're on fire! It's probably just the thought of Y/N floating around in my brain. I take a deep breath before cupping my hands at the corners of the pillow and diving my mouth towards the pillow once more. I start off with a short kiss but continuously start moving my lips against, what I imagine to be, their lips. I move my bottom lip more often than my top. Imagining I'm trapping their lips against mine. Just the thought of trapping them makes me grind my hips against the mattress a little. Even though I'm soft I still let out a little whimper. Does Y/N even like it when their partner makes noise? I wasn't able to find any information on what she likes in bed so...with my luck, I'll just leave it to chance. My kisses get more sloppy and desperate. I begin swiping and swirling my tongue against the pillow thinking about just what it might feel like to make out with them. Their hot, wet mouth pressing up against mine while our tongues rub against one another in an attempt to touch each other. I moan seemingly too loud at that thought and start humping the bed. Everything feels so hot.

Maybe combining kissing practice and "performance" practice would be a good idea.

Once he starts performance practice, his browser is constantly on sex related websites. But more on the education side...he wants to know how to make you feel good and how to make himself last longer. Once in a while, he does go on the hub though so he can pretend it's you and him having sex on the screen. He tries his best to look for ones where it sounds like you or looks like you. He prefers the ones where it sounds like you so that way he could just close his eyes and imagine you and him are together. 

Just a random bonus I thought I'd add in: He got a boner during class once and sat there for like ten minutes just waiting for it to go away. So he just ended up palming himself through his pants and struggled to not make any noise. He liked to imagine you were under the desk pressing your face against his clothed crotch and just rubbing your face around that area. Luckily, he came without letting a single noise slip past his lips. Unluckily, Nagito cums a lot. So everyone could see the enormous wet spot on the crotch of his pants when class was dismissed.

He happens to have a weird habit of doing domestic and soft things with a hint of creepy. For example, one of his favorite things to do as of recently is print out a picture that has your face in it, tape it to his pillow, and fall asleep cuddling it. This sounds fine if you two were dating but… you aren't. He'll give it kisses, cuddle with it, fall asleep with it, and, of course, it's what he uses during his performance practice. He also enjoys eating meals with it and watching movies while cuddling it too. He perceives it all as practice for when you two are wed.

I'm going to assume you aren't an oblivious idiot and just say that you probably began to notice how weird he'd get around you. You tried distancing yourself a little bit but enough to still stay friends. He noticed the change in how often you'd hang out with him and his anxiety skyrocketed. Nagito would feel he had only a couple choices left. And that was to kidnap you, get rid of any obstacles that didn't allow him to spend every waking moment with you, or just flat out kill you so that way no one could have you. He already knew he wouldn't be able to even breathe without you so he'd likely kill himself as well in the process.

Author's Note: I'll probably be discontinuing that one Nagito x reader chapter 2 because I wasn't able to finish it before the school year started and I was just dissatisfied with the chapters BUT! I do have plenty of headcanons on yandere Komaeda! Message me if you want some far more nsfw headcanons because I have a lot for this guy.  I'm also very open to crackfic oneshots.

[shima-draws]

Hiro is here!! We've all been waiting for him!!

You know the drill by now, all the yummy details about his background are under the cut ;) Also be warned it is VERY long I went a little feral writing his backstory lmao

Hiro

Age: 17

Hair color: Orange

Eye color: Pink

Element: Psychic & Forest

Okay so a lot of this is gonna be stuff I'm pulling from posts I've already written to make it easier on myself and so I don't have to repeat anything.

Before he was born, the Novune Forces approached Hiro's parents because they knew that he would be born as a dual elemental. Part of their goal was to raise several dual type children to become human weapons--they targeted dual type babies specifically because they're said to be more powerful since they can use more than one elemental type.

It was the perfect opportunity for Hiro's parents because at the time they were not ready for a child despite agreeing that they were going to have it. Ofc the Forces did not reveal their plans so to them it turned into a nice surrogate parent situation where Hiro's mother would give birth to him and he'd immediately be given up for adoption afterwards. It was definitely hard for them to part with him but they trusted he'd be in good care. Well. That turned out great, as you can probably tell :')

Hiro, along with Kaz and Mallary, became the Forces' iconic trio, with Hiro considered to be the golden child and the most dangerous between the three of them because of his high intellect and skill in combat. He grew up under a very strict regimen and would spend hours each day dedicated to training both his mind and his elemental powers. He's an extremely gifted psychic elemental and took to his abilities almost immediately--he’s able to read his opponents movements and set up traps before they can even get to him. He’s usually airborne for most battles he’s in; he finds it easier to strategize from a higher vantage point, and he also just likes to float around and dodge enemy attacks and act like an ass lmao. He’s a pro at immobilizing his enemies so they can no longer move, ending his battles swiftly and cleanly. Physically he’s not very powerful so he uses a magic staff to fight. His intelligence more than makes up for his lack of super strength!

He has a special power like Kaz’s extra dragon typing (and, like Kaz, he has a streak in his hair from the experimentation)—Hiro gets visions of death, basically predictions of the future, and his visions are never wrong. He’s able to see who dies in battle and the Forces use this to their advantage so that they can prepare around any casualties. Hiro hates getting these visions because he doesn’t like seeing people die, he witnesses their last moments and it’s certainly traumatizing for him;; and like Kaz, this power was something he only unlocked through lots of experimentation on him, so he usually passes out for hours after getting a vision since it’s not a “natural” ability he was born with.

As for his second typing, it was something he never really clicked with. Forest elementals have to be very attuned to nature and are generally more kindhearted and gentle people, but since Hiro grew up in a base with only limited access to the outside (and because he’s forced into acting as an antagonist), his forest elemental powers were repressed over the years. He’s already powerful enough as a psychic elemental so he doesn’t feel the need to resort to a second power, especially since his superiors viewed his second typing as useless and he never received proper training on how to use it. He's already a huge threat as he is so they said good enough. The Forces believe that if something is useless, throw it away, so they eventually abandoned any hope of him succeeding in bettering his forest powers, and focused solely on enhancing his psychic abilities and making his death visions clearer.

Before Hiro became the cold-hearted and snarky colonel that the Forces know him as, he was actually a very kind child with an aversion to violence, and cried often. That got forced out of him pretty quickly though--he learned right away that disobedience means punishment and the only way to pay for his mistakes is by verbal and physical abuse. Poor baby :'( He and Kaz and Mallary go through a LOT of unfair shit as kids. The event that really drove home his intense determination and flawless record was the first mission he was ever sent out on.

This happened when he was around 13. Usually members of the Forces don't get to go out on solo missions unless they have a high position or are old enough to, but he was the exception because of his talent and because it was an experiment to see if he could handle it. His mission was to infiltrate a small, family run guild and basically gather intel and find out what their agenda was, as there were rumors they knew of some of the Forces’ plans. Upon Hiro’s arrival to the town where the guild was situated, he ends up rescuing the Guildmaster’s daughter, Lorelai, who is around his age. Unknowingly, he triggered his forest elemental powers, which caused them to land in a field of flowers he’d bloomed. Because of this, Lorelai starts to call him Flower, since he couldn’t come up with a codename in time and he doesn’t have a real name anyway lol

A couple weeks pass and Hiro spends more and more time with the guild, growing closer to Lorelai and being lulled into a false sense of security. He becomes extremely jealous of how the guild lives, and is very emotional at how much of a family they are, and how sweetly they treat him. Hiro starts to ponder over whether or not he should be sneaking around behind their back, when one day the guild is attacked while he’s out. When he returns, the village is set ablaze, and when Hiro demands what’s going on, his superior informs him that he was merely a decoy to get their defenses down, since apparently the Forces had definitive proof that they knew of their plans. His superior orders Hiro to search the village and kill anybody who was left.

Hiro, panicked, searches for Lorelai, and finds her hiding in the forest nearby. He apologizes to her and has a mental breakdown, blaming himself for all of her misfortune. Lorelai realizes that he’s being kept in the Forces against his will and begs him to run away with her. Hiro knows that he’ll be hunted down if he does, and Lorelai could get hurt, so he tells her he has to stay with them. In the midst of this, they are confronted with the current colonel of the Forces, who encourages Hiro to kill Lorelai. Hiro refuses, and the colonel calls him out for insubordination. The colonel then decides to kill both of them in order to get a promotion. Hiro leaps to defend both Lorelai and himself, and in the scuffle, receives the scar on his head, and accidentally kills the colonel. Traumatized, bloodied, and terrified, Lorelai is the one to apologize to him as he cries his eyes out. Hiro numbly reassures her and tells her to run while she can. Lorelai admits that she loves him and bids him farewell, hoping that they can meet again, and that she’s sorry she can’t do more for him.

This is when Hiro decides to become the perfect agent—dangerous, cruel, and flawless, so that something like this never happens again, and so that he can have enough power to make the decisions rather than just following orders to mindlessly kill people. From then on out he does what he’s told without any complaints and has a record for never failing a single mission the Forces have given to him. Any enemy considers him to be absolutely ruthless because he does not hesitate in battles and will neutralize with no questions asked. He’s a cocky little bastard around enemies lmao he loves to snark them and tease them. He’s strictly against killing after what happened to the colonel, so instead, if it’s a high risk operation, he erases the memories of his targets to reduce the threat. Because he’s so uncomfortable with the thought of death in general he reasons that losing your memories is better than dying, and that makes it easier on the Forces as well since they’ll leave less of a trail rather than just killing people left and right. 

Growing up, Hiro didn’t interact with Kaz very much, and they usually just saw each other in passing. However they both respect each other a great amount, and they sympathize with each other, being in the same sort of situation. Both the Hiro and Kaz hate their upbringing and hold a grudge against their superiors for their treatment and experimentation on them;; As for Mallary, Hiro became enamored with her because she reminds him a lot of Lorelai (who he later admits to being his first love). He finds her strength captivating and the way she doesn’t give a shit about other people’s opinions admirable. Hiro eventually falls prey to her manipulation and falls over himself to please her, which bothers Kaz because he knows Mallary’s just toying with him.

After the Forces’ plan to kidnap Ginni and use her as a hostage blows up in their face, Hiro finds out that Kaz had escaped with her, and commends him on the extremely smart decision to do so lol. He wonders if he should start considering leaving the Forces as well, seeing as he’s mature and responsible (and smart) enough to make it on his own. He’s ordered to retrieve Kaz which was a HUGE mistake on the Forces’ part because they didn’t realize Hiro’s loyalties lied more with people on the outside. Hiro meets up with Kaz and Kaz eventually convinces him to desert the Forces and work with him to stop their plans. Hiro agrees to work as a double agent for a while, leaking all of the Forces’ information to Kaz, Ginni, and the guild. In the midst of all this, Hiro meets Olivia, who pretty much calls dibs on him and she’s like “Listen Ginni got to give Kaz his name so can I give the colonel a name?? Please???” So she starts calling him Hiro! And finally baby boy smarts up and starts crushing on a girl that actually gives a damn about him and god dammit it’s the cutest fucking case of puppy love since Dusk/Nozomi. Hiro absolutely adores her, but he’s too nervous to actually do anything about it because he’s got huge abandonment issues (thanks again bad parenting! And Mallary!) and doesn’t want to ruin one of the only genuine friendships he’s ever had. But he is head over HEELS for Olivia and it’s so……softe.

Mallary finds out that Hiro’s acting as a spy, and retaliates. Hiro realizes just how awfully she’s treated him and defeats her, allowing him to escape and officially join up with the guild.

After that it’s a whole bunch of crazy action stuff as plans come together and they get to take down the Forces. Hiro falls harder and deeper for Olivia while she remains oblivious (at least, for a little while, until she finally starts noticing). He grows closer to Kaz and Ginni as well, and begins connecting with Kaz on a deep level because of their shared history. (They’re kind of like brothers, and Hiro considers him to be his best friend :’) )

Once the Forces are defeated, Hiro and Kaz both decide to go on a journey of self discovery in order to better themselves and learn more about the world they haven’t seen due to being locked up for so many years. Kaz and Ginni are already on the verge of forming a relationship, but with Olivia and Hiro it’s still tentative since she’s unsure and he still feels inadequate as a romantic partner. Olivia admits that she likes him and Hiro is so happy he’s ready to burst, but then he realizes it’s not the right time for them to be together so he gently rejects her. (Olivia takes this as an actual rejection tho not a “I’m not ready to be in a relationship with you yet tho I WANT to” and Ginni’s like YA’LL ARE SO DUMB I S2G).

Hiro and Kaz go their separate ways, and Hiro travels around for a while! He eventually settles in a lovely little village where he learns about his forest elemental powers and how to use them better. He’s finally able to connect with other people and essentially becomes way softer around the edges, revealing the true personality he had when he was a kid. A year or so passes and suddenly Kaz, Ginni and Olivia show up to reunite with him, and not long after that Hiro and Olivia FINALLY get together and start dating 😔👌 (Ginni: TOOK you look enough, god)

At some point the four of them go on a journey together and Hiro runs into his biological parents again…!! And he finds out he has a younger sister and they all reconnect and it’s SO EMOTIONAL

Other than that I think that’s all I have 🤔 Thanks for reading though this epic rollercoaster ride of a story plot lol!

Extra personality traits

-Hiro’s sarcasm and snarkiness is a defense mechanism to prevent anybody from seeing his vulnerable side, and also a way to trick the fear inside of him. Kaz is the one to point this out actually lol

-Despite that he does enjoy teasing people lightheartedly and being sassy, once he gets comfortable enough with them! There is a difference between his snarkiness towards enemies compared to that towards friends

-Is EXTREMELY loyal to the people he cares about. At first he tends to act prickly and kind of standoffish towards people he doesn’t know well. Over time he becomes more open to trusting others. Once you earn his trust and he deems you worthy of his friendship he instantly becomes softer and kinder haha, it’s like a switch

-Often dismisses people that he thinks aren’t worth his time or aren’t smart enough to hold an intelligent conversation with him

-Spends a lot of time reading and gathering knowledge. He is very book smart—but not very people smart :’D He and Kaz will spend hours in the guild’s library, since they’re both very thirsty for information outside of what they studied during their time in the Forces

-Touch starved as FUCK. He flips his shit every time somebody touches him in a friendly way, and will melt into a puddle if he gets hugged

-He can be very nosy and insensitive sometimes, prying into other people’s personal affairs if he thinks he can solve the issue

-Absolutely a tactics expert. He calculates all of his moves very carefully, and uses prediction tactics to leave no room for error. He enjoys coming up with mock battle situations to challenge himself.

-Very self-sacrificial;; he views the lives of those he cares about to be far more important than his own. He’ll lay his life on the line for his friends in an instant

-Is the person in the group who is the least fond of violence. If he can find a way around injuring someone, he’ll do it. He prefers to restrict his enemy’s movements or slow them down so they can’t fight back. He is VERY good at neutralizing opponents before they can even register it

-SUPER speedy. Due to his small size he’s very quick, most people don’t see him coming

-He’s really sensitive about his height fjmaksldmas he snaps at people who make fun of him for it

-Tends to levitate when he’s in deep thought. Olivia finds this very cute

-Blooms flowers when he’s happy/embarrassed

-He’s actually. A very talented dancer :0 During his year away from the guild he learned a lot of folk dances at the village he was living in, and when the others witness it they get really starstruck because it’s super mesmerizing!! He blooms flowers as he dances

-At his core he’s a very compassionate character!!

-After escaping from the Forces, he’s able to express his emotions more openly, and goes back to the way he was as a child. He’s a crybaby :’) He cries whenever someone he cares about gets hurt

-The only person in the group with the fucking brain cell, and the most rational one. Unless Olivia gets involved, then he gets stupid and flustered lmao

[attack-on-kiwi]

Are you still doing the fluff alphabet? If so, would you be willing to do it for Bertl? I'm not sure if you write for him, it's okay if you don't.

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Bertholdt is indifferent to what the two do. Most activities that his s/o points out are okay in his book, though he isn’t a fan of anything that forces him to stand out too much. As long as he’s spending time with them or watching out for them, he’s happy to do anything. That said, he does have a particular fondness for hiking or fishing. Both activities are peaceful and let the two enjoy mild physical activity while basking in one another’s company. There’s no stress to speak as they can just focus on their tasks at hand. 

Cuddling is nice once he’s over his nervous disposition. If his s/o doesn’t mind his clammy hands and overwhelming warmth, he likes to have them secured in his arms, playing with their fingers for countless moments. Perhaps the stilling of time is why he is drawn to such an innocent passtime.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Bertholdt is drawn in by their smile. He doesn’t deserve such kindness- definitely not from someone as beautiful and admirable as themselves.It’s no stretch to say that Bertholdt’s idea of his s/o is quite inflated by how he imagines them to be an all superior and perfect individual. He’s too overcome by feelings of insecurity and stress that he’s latched onto their kindness. That smile draws him in and promises a moment of respite in this unnerving hell of an existence he bears. 

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

He tries to ground them. He will not take any unnecessary touching in the case that they do not respond well. He’ll instead look to calm them by speaking in a level tone and guiding them through their episodes. He hates seeing them upset or panicking, and he would rather not set them off even more. Bertholdt will assess the situation as best he can, but don’t expect a passionate embrace or overly comforting words. He will just remind them that they are here and he is here. The two can sort out the issue if need be and go from there. If the situation calls for it or if his s/o approaches him for physical comfort, he has no problem embracing them for several minutes, quietly letting them seek whatever it is that is going to help them come down.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Bertholdt is too nervous and aware of his fate to give much thought to a future with his s/o. Ideally, he would like to have weekend breakfast with them and his father before taking a light stroll to a park that’s filled with happy children. He wants to take them out for sweets and to walk fearlessly hand in hand. Nothing too extraordinary. A secure life where they can live comfortably with their loved ones and enjoy their mundane lives would be ideal.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Bertholdt isn’t entirely submissive, but he does prefer his s/o to take charge. He’s a bit of a pleaser when it comes to the relationship, so he’s willing to do most things his s/o wants. 

However he does have limits to his patience and if he wants something done, he’s not afraid to mention it. He’s not a shy and nervous wreck all the time, after all. If his s/o and he have been together for a while, he is much more comfortable speaking out and suggesting they try something new. It takes a lot of patience from his s/o, and most of his demands are too subtle to even give a second thought.

If Bertholdt feels like something is not going how it should, he’s quite skilled in putting a stop to it.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Getting Bertholdt angry is hard enough in the first place. His s/o either put their life in extreme danger or crossed a boundary with hi,. Bertholdt will not stand for it and will have to take time for himself. During this period of tension, he’s prone to guilt tripping and manipulating his s/o into feeling awful about the fight. Whether they played a large role or not, Berhtoldt feels the need to really emphasize that they can’t be hurting him because all he does is to ensure the two can be happy.

He doesn’t mean to be so erratic when he’s angry, but he rarely experiences anger, and being hurt by someone he finally let in scares him to no end. It’s no excuse for his irrational (at times) behavior, but it’s important for the two to have patience with one another.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Once he gets past the initial guilt of being in a relationship when he’s got the mission he has, he does feel something akin to gratefulness. If anything, he just feels immense selfishness for getting involved with someone. His mind is constantly in overdrive and is unable to rest for a moment enough to really see just what his s/o puts up with for him.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

His entire identity is a secret. Regardless of whether his s/o is from Marley or Paradis, he keeps his true self under wraps. Bertholdt is conditioned first and foremost to put his own freedom and wishes first. That means that his mission comes first, and unless he has known his s/o for years or feels extremely strong about them, he will never share anything remotely incriminating. Even if he does feel comfortable enough to share, information will be scarce and seemingly irrelevant to the bigger picture. He can’t help this tendency. He has had to be careful of every word that comes out of his mouth as it could mean life or death, and he’s not willing to risk more than necessary as he feels he’s already pushing it too far.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

The fact that he was even open to having an s/o shows that they’ve brought down the many walls (lol) he’s put up around his heart. Bertholdt’s defense mechanism is to hide and to put up a front, so when someone is able to give him enough confidence that he’s willing to love them even remotely, they can say they’ve impacted him in a way most others never have. 

Bertholdt is someone who will usually partake in activities if asked, so there’s not much on the path of trying new things, but trying them with his s/o definitely feels more fulfilling to him. Even if it’s just an evening hike or going to a market when allowed, Bertholdt feels more vulnerable. His s/o is usually unaware of this until he is caught smiling at them shyly, a glimmer of his true feelings dancing across his expression. 

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Yes and no. 

Bertholdt will get jealous if someone is getting too friendly and touchy with his s/o, but it takes a lot for him to step in. In fact, it’s the rarest sight to catch him towering above someone, using a steel glare and his notable height to intimidate whoever is making heart eyes and assorted moves at his s/o. 

Though he is prone to jealousy due to fear of his s/o leaving him or finding out they don’t want to be with him, he is still most likely not going to step in. Bertholdt has resigned himself to the idea that he is not worthy of a long term partner and to always be prepared in the event that his s/o will leave him. When in private, he might try to guilt his s/o by saying they made him feel jealous because of how close that person was getting to them, but most times he will just hide in their neck and huff when prodded with questions.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Bertholdt never kisses anyone long enough for there to be a cohesive report on the topic. His kisses range from split second pecks to softer slightly dragged out kisses. There’s never anything fancy going on. 

He likes it when his s/o has to work to get to his lips, be it they are too short or too tall to comfortably reach him. He thinks it’s endearing that they would want to kiss him even tho it can be an inconvenience to get to his lips. 

Kiss his neck and he will pass out from the blood running to his cheeks. Oh, yeah. He’s a huge blusher when it comes to kisses.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

It’s likely Bertholdt never utters the words until his last moments. He doesn’t have the luxury of expressing his true feelings. Whether or now his s/o is by him during those moments, their face flashes in his mind and while he’s wailing for someone to help him, he’ll think to himself, “I didn’t even say it! I didn’t even get to say it!” And then you guys know how the rest goes.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Bertholdt wants to get married. The idea of sharing his life with someone who is his better half warms his heart. If he were to propose, he’d like to do it on an evening where he and his s/o have just had dinner and are floating on a little boat through the waterways. He’d have a whole speech planned out, but the anxiety of asking would eat away at him and he rushes into the stuttering question. When his s/o says yes, he’d be too terrified of picking up the ring since he’s sweating so much, so he’d ask them to take no offense and put the ring on himself. He doesn’t want it to slip and fall into the water.

Marriage with Bertholdt is traditional. He’d like his s/o to live a carefree and comfortable life, so he’d prefer to be the one working while they stayed home or took part in whatever they aspired to. He could see his s/o opening up a bakery. They would have two pets, a dog and a cat, or maybe just two dogs that roam around bringing comfort and joy to their early morning patrons.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

He sticks with calling them their name or a short variation of it.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

When you strip away the nervousness he is inevitably feeling, Bertholdt is as sweet as one would think plus some more. He has a difficult time verbalizing just how he’s feeling, so he takes to making sure his s/o doesn’t need to deal with more than they have to.

This means Bertholdt will pick up chores or errands they haven’t had time to do or he’ll patch up their clothes. He makes sure that they don’t come back to more work. If they need to be held, he’s there for them. All they have to do is initiate it- that’s all he asks. He’s good at comforting them. He’s warm and large enough to fully embrace most people. He never feels like he’s doing enough or if he’s doing what he should be, but he means well.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Most people will never know Bertholdt and his s/o are an item unless his s/o is upfront. He’s not going to actively hold their hand or kiss them in front of anyone, but he won’t push them away if they want to cling to his arm. Having Reiner as a friend helps- the guy is more than happy to tell people to piss off when they try flirting with you or Bertholdt and if Bertholdt is okay with it, he’ll even tell others so they are in the know. 

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He’s smart and picks up on cooking easily. If his s/o wants a certain food, it only takes him a few moments of studying a recipe to get it correctly. The food always turns out delicious- better than the recipe itself, some would say. He uses this to his advantage when his s/o is particularly upset with him. It’s hard for him to really put into words how sorry he is, so he hopes the food is a good segway into the conversation.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He tries to be a classic romantic, but it’s hard when you have a whole can of worms eating the back of your mind at all times. 

Bertholdt likes bringing them flowers when he can, and if that’s impossible, he will try to get his hands on some dried/pressed ones and see if he can encase them in resin and accessorize the items. He likes giving them gifts that last long, so they have a small collection of trinkets from him. 

He is always there to lend them an ear. Even though he can’t talk much about his own problems, he is more than happy to help them sort out their feelings. Even if he could speak to them about his problems, he would rather focus on them. In a relationship, he’s overwhelmingly giving so long as his s/o stays by him no matter what it takes. 

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

If he has any reservations, he will let them be known, but once he is convinced his s/o is not just saying something but willing to see it through, they have his whole support. He will be willing to go through great length to help them succeed. 

However, if their aspirations interfere with his own goals, he will try to subtly sabotage them or try to convince them to focus on something else. This will cause a huge rift in the relationship

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Bertholdt is content as everything is. He’s fine with having an s/o and living the same day with them. It’s peaceful when it can be, and he’d rather not risk all of that for something that may not be worth it. If his s/o wants to try something out, he will follow along but will step in if he feels they might get hurt or get the two of them in danger. 

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Bertholdt knows his partner inside and out. The way he knows every detail about them is pretty relative to how little they know about him. As a way to make up for not being completely honest with them, he does his best to get to know them and everything about them so that he can accommodate them reasonably. He doesn’t feel too bad about this either. He’s more comfortable giving, so he enjoys seeing his s/o light up when he remembers a tiny detail about them. 

Though Bertholdt is knowledgeable about his partner, he is not the poster boy for empathy. Most of their concerns feel minor compared to the larger pictures, so he has a difficult time finding the mental capacity to even care. This surfaces in how he will tell them to be logical or offer them more realistic advice on their concerns.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

His relationship is not the most important thing to him. Though it is true that he values his partner immensely, he is sadly anchored to the fact that his mission comes first and that his selfish desires of wanting solace for his loved ones will have to be but a byproduct of a successful mission. No matter what, his life and his future are going to be most impacted by said mission, so once everything is dealt with, he will prioritize everyone else. 

That being said, just because his mission comes first does not mean that Bertholdt is immune to slip ups regarding his personal life. There are times when the stress and fear of losing his s/o will push him to do something ill advised so that he can secure their safety. If they ended up dying as a result of his mission and actions, he’d never recover.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

If his s/o starts complimenting him between their sweet little kisses, then Bertholdt will begin blushing and trying to escape. He doesn’t straight up run away, but he’ll cover his face with his hands as his cheeks heat up. If they ask him what he’s doing or coo to him he’ll try to choke out a flustered “I’m fine” while clearly not being fine. His s/o has the power to make him weak in the knees and must learn to utilize said power to the fullest.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Bertholdt isn’t going to initiate any form of intimacy, but once his s/o has him in their arms, he’s actually a cuddle bug. His favorite is to quietly hug them and rest his face in their neck. Sometimes he’ll kiss them wherever he can. The feeling of their hands dragging over his back and their nails scratching his scalp helps him forget that the world is terrifying just for a moment. If he falls asleep on them, it’s said that he can go the whole night without fumbling or kicking anyone.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He’s good at putting those thoughts in the back of his mind. He doesn’t really give into missing them as often as he could, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss them. When he has a chance to breather, he’ll offhandedly wonder if they miss him too. 

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Unless he’s decided they are important enough for him, he won’t go out of his way to put his life on the line or anything. As I’ve previously mentioned, Bertholdt’s way of prioritizing his relationship is by prioritizing his mission.

[ghoularts]

Let’s talk about the future chapters and fates of some characters!

Oh boy so this is gonna be a long ass post but I just wanted to discuss things about the ‘war arc’!

First, I’ll start off with Hawks/Keigo Takami.

Status: Unconscious/Severely burned, escaped to the forest away from the mansion

Hawks has become quite the controversial character in the fandom. It’s up to the reader to decide whether they believe his actions was right or wrong. There is no correct/clear answer here. I won’t dive into any of that right now, instead I’m going to focus on what his arc holds in the future.

Since he hit his head on the concrete, he was knocked unconscious and could possibly go into a coma. (Because we know Horikoshi likes to drag things out when it comes to the possibility of Dabi being Touya.)

I do not believe Keigo will die. Especially now that he holds important information about Dabi. We also don’t know Keigo’s whole backstory yet nor do we know what really happened with Jeanist. The recorder he had got burned up with his jacket or was destroyed by Dabi in this panel:

You can see a little piece go flying from his hand just above his staples.

What I do believe is Hawks will die. His hero persona. Now that his wings are gone, the Hero Commission will most likely drop him just like that. Keigo will live on with the guilt of killing Twice. He really wanted to save Twice, trying to get him to surrender, only aiming to incompacitate him until, well... you know.

When Dabi calls him dirty, he doesn’t deny it. It’s probably going to impact him a lot when all this is over. The best direction for him is to have a talk with Tokoyami about his actions and break away from the HPSC. He should expose them since they groomed him as a child into a weapon, sent kids into a war, etc.

Personally, I’d love for Keigo to become a vigilante. It suits him much better at this point. I don’t think he’ll be able to regrow/regenerate his wings. There’s nothing left, plus he could only regenerate the feathers when there were his little stubs left. Also if you remember Endeavor talking about his blue flames it makes sense; “Carbonized cells can’t regenerate.”

Next up we have Tokoyami!

Status: Alive, slightly burned, escaped to the forest away from the mansion

I’ve seen many posts about how Tokoyami was brainwashed. This is simply not the case. The Hero Commission seems to kind of despise UA or doesn’t have all to that much influence with the school. Except for the time they didn’t want the cultural festival to take place (at least that’s what I remember). Many of the teachers have their own thoughts about the Hero Commission such as Midnight in the teacher’s conference saying that the kids shouldn’t be put in battles like this. Aizawa has his suspicions about the organization as well.

Tokoyami respects his mentor because Hawks taught him many things about his Quirk and gave him good advice. (“If you’ve got wings, you should spread them out and fly. Don’t be confined to the ground.) Hawks means a lot to Tokoyami so of course he’d come to his rescue. When Dabi points out Twice’s body, Tokoyami looks horrified. When flying away and telling Hawks he did the right thing, he was running on emotions and shock. His mentor needs medical attention and fast. Caleb, a translator for the manga, notes that Tokoyami drops his edgy tone when he says these things to Hawks. Tokoyami is panicking. He just wants Hawks to be safe.

Also, his experience/interactions most likely play a role in his thinking. These villains tried to kidnap him, kidnapped a classmate, killed multiple people and plan to kill many more, and attacked his class on several occasions. Why would he believe Dabi right away when Dabi has burned alive dozens of people, thugs and innocent heroes like Snatch, and is trying to actively kill his mentor and Tokoyami himself?

Again, I think Hawks and Tokoyami will have a talk after this and Tokoyami will have to question Hawks’ actions. Keigo will probably tell him something along the lines of ‘Don’t support what I did’ or ‘Don’t follow in my footsteps.’ Call me crazy, but there’s actually the possibility that the HPSC will take notice of Tokoyami’s power and the risks he took to save Keigo. They might offer him training to be a ‘special hero’ like Keigo was. 

Miruko!

Status: Missing arm/part of leg, bleeding severely, in Jakku Hospital

Oh man where we last left off with the rabbit queen herself was her bleeding on the floor out of energy. Endeavor cauterized her wounds so at least it stopped most of the bleeding. It is worrying to know that she’s still in the hospital when Shigaraki is about to wake up and destroy everything. 

Though I don’t think she’s going to die. Especially since that color page showed mechanical limbs in the same spot where she lost them. Horikoshi also loves drawing her, so let’s hope he likes drawing her enough to keep her alive lol. She’ll probably be in recovery for a while before resuming her hero work with her new prosthetic limbs. 

Endeavor

Status: Alive, in Jakku Hospital

Endeavor was taking on Nomu with Ryukyu in chapter 269. He is also in range of Shigaraki being in the hospital with all the other heroes. Many people believe he has huge death flags, but I seriously don’t think he’ll die this arc until we know what happened with Touya. Hawks might ask him about Touya if the black speech bubble was Dabi saying that he’s Endeavor’s son. This will both crush Keigo’s admiration for the flame hero and make Endeavor realize just how badly his abusive behavior affected his family. Perhaps he’ll go public with it? Or maybe the villains will use it against Endeavor one day and the public will turn on him? 

Gigantomachia/Kirishima/Ashido

Gigantomachia is truly terrifying. He could wipe the floor and completely wreck the heroes. He has finally stood up and will be on the move, heading in Shigaraki’s direction because of his ‘Master’s Scent.’ Since Shiggy now possesses All for One, Giganto will follow his orders.

What’s even scarier is that this guy was introduced way back in Kirishima’s and Ashido’s backstory. Which means those two could possibly face this giant. Kirishima wouldn’t be able to make a dent, but Ashido could wear him down over time with the exposure to acid. I’ve also seen theories floating around about him being Crimson Riot. So Kiri facing his idol?

I’ll touch more on other characters later (Deku, Shiggy, Dabi, Mic, Aizawa, Kaminari etc.) but I’ll tell you guys which characters I think will die:

Xless (I mean, come on, Shiggy’s gonna kill this man)

Crust (we have no attachment to him, plus he hasn’t been fairing well with the Nomu. Not to mention he’s near Shigaraki as well)

Anyways, what do you guys think? Have anything to add like other potential outcomes of their arcs?

[bellafarella]

⚠️This is very long so you don’t have to read it or post it I just wanted to share how I thought the ending would have made people at least satisfied with the ending ⚠️

How each persons storyline should have ended

Frank’s-good ending. The floating was weird. I’m kind of upset that out of his all things his (dementia,alcoholism,overdose, his failing liver) they decided to kill him with COVID something he showed no symptoms of.

Liam- it should have shown Liam reading Frank’s letter. Seeing him read the letter and getting emotional over what frank said about him and Frank’s voiceover as he smiles when he reads his part in the letter would have been great. The idea of the letter should have been to have the one person that cared about him read it, which was Liam. People may say this would have hurt Liam but I think it would have gave Liam some sort of closure just letting him know that frank loved him and cared for him more than the Gallagher’s and Liam did care about frank more than anyone so for Liam this may have just made him happy to know that his mission of helping frank and making sure Frank felt loved was fulfilled.

Ian and Mickey-This may be a little controversial but I think Ian and Mickey should have ended their story with getting married. The whole relationship and really what made people love this relationship was the fact that nothing could break them up because what they have is special, it’s true love. Them being sperated so many times and being brought back together so many times was kind of what people loved. Not so much the being torn apart part but more of the coming together because they love eachother and that they have true love that can’t be broken. Them getting married is the perfect way of showing that it’s real this time they will be together till death do them part. JW’s ending was great on paper. Mickey telling Ian how he felt about being a dad, Mickey acting like he forgot about their 1 year anniversary when really he wanted to surprise Ian. Great on paper but unfortunately JW did an awful job of showing this finale storyline he could have had an emotional, important, and impactful storyline but instead he had a storyline about Mickey arguing about a potato masher, Mickey talking about getting a blow job, deleted important scenes, and just a underwhelming ending overall. I’m still mad there was no mutual ily. Since they got married last season and there’s nothing we can do to change that now I think the last scene was great, them dancing around in the alibi where Mickey came out celebrating their 1 year anniversary. I just wish JW did a better job at adding a more emotional or just impactful finale rather than a bunch of scenes that meant nothing and two important scenes

Lip- It should have ended like it started. Lip being happy fixing his house. I think it should have been him in his new house looking at it from the outside and seeing that his hard work has finally paid off. Jw decided to leave lip broke with a kid on the way and still having to support Liam considering he promised Liam a home (which as we can tell he is not getting anytime soon), having a job as a delivery driver, and started smoking again. Again very sad and underwhelming storyline that Jw managed to mess up.

Debbie- the season shouldn’t have been purely Debbie angry at lip I feel like they should have had Debbie be angry at lip for about two episodes max and then her finally coming to terms with having to move so she ends up buying the apartment that she was looking at with Franny. The last episode should have been her at her new apartment and lip comes to visit her and she expresses that she feels alone and lip tells her that he is right there next to her and just because they don’t live under the same roof doesn’t mean that he won’t be there for her and that he is just around the corner and whenever she needs him or any of the Gallaghers they will be right there. This would then give Debbie some peace of mind and the last scene should be Debbie hugging Franny maybe sitting on a couch watching TV, both with a big smile on their face.I feel like this could have gave there be a more emotional storyline rather than a petty unimportant storyline which would have caused less hate towards her.

Carl- his ending was good the whole episode was terrible with his storyline but at least they gave him a good ending where we can imagine him in the future buying The alibi and running it and possibly saving up money to buy a home and starting his life

Kev and V-The episode should’ve ended with them agreeing to move to Kentucky because we know that they will be fine in Kentucky considering Kevin already has a job there promised to him and V potentially has a job in government this would have let the viewers imagine their life in Kentucky and leaving it up to the viewers to imagine how their life in Kentucky would be while still leaving us with a good and secure ending considering they are planning to buy the condo which already leaves the viewers with imagining a stable home and job in a good neighborhood for Kevin and Veronica and their kids .

Hi so I read all of this and your ideas are good! But I do have to say that you're expecting too much from a show that's done nothing but disappoint fans for years lol

I thought that considering how this show has been going the last few years that the ending we got was as good as it was ever gonna be.

I do think they could have given us at least 1 more episode just to tie some things up like this finale felt more like the penultimate episode instead of the series finale it was

For Frank, the floating thing is dumb but it's symbolic. It's his soul watching over his family and friends and seeing them happy and knowing they'll be okay eventually.

I liked that the letter was read by him. It was a very nice callback to the pilot and that's def why they did it. And why they had them sing that song since it was also in the pilot.

Liam reading it would be a nice way to end his whole sl with Frank but ultimately, frank was a neglectful shitty parent, maybe not to liam but to his other kids and I think their objective with not having any of the kids know in that moment that frank died is because frank never cared about them and they learned not to care about him so the point of them not finding out, imo, hit the mark. This show was never about the children wanting the parents love and approval, it was about these children taking care of each other and being there for each other because their parents were neglectful

I do agree that frank dying from covid was fucking bs. Like now we don't know if the kids or any of them got covid cause they were in contact with him like you're giving us this entire sl of how dementia is slowly killing frank but then he dies cause of covid??? I get he'd be way more prone to catching it and it actually killing him but then why heavily show his decline with dementia only for covid to take him out. That's def a big fault I have with the finale

As for Lip, I think it would have been nice to see him get a legit offer or him with his new place but I like that his ending was very open. As we know, Lip is a genius. Even after years of not being in school or working with computers he was still able to help that guy with his exchange thing in 2 seconds. And like frank said, lips just too stuck in his own way. I think with him possibly having a 2nd kid, it will kick him into high gear and he'll find a way to get them a house and get himself a good job to support them. His ending shows that yeah he might be down right now but don't count him out because he will find a way to support his family.

For ian and mickey I def disagree with you. I absolutely loved seeing them as husbands this season. Yeah they bickered for too many episodes but it's also accurate af. Couples bicker. My parents have been married over 30y, they bicker constantly. But aside from bickering we got to see them grow as a couple. We saw mickey attempt to get a legal job because it would ease Ian's mind. We saw Ian want a better life for them. We saw them get an apartment and start their own business together. We saw them communicate about what they want within their marriage. We saw them discuss children and past traumas surrounding that. We saw Ian comfort mickey when terry died. We saw Ian comfort mickey when he said he didn't wanna be like terry or that he would be a shitty dad like terry. I think their ending was definitely the best one out of everyone. They're happy, in love, just celebrated a year of marriage, they have a business, a home, and the door is open for them to have children. I thought that it was a great way to end their story. It left it open enough for us to imagine them in their new home and discussing kids then making the moves to try and have one.

Debbie I fucking hate so idgaf how her story ended lmfaoooo but what I did hate was how she kicked sandy to the curb for wanting them to ditch but then this new psycho bitch Heidi says the exact same thing and she's all maybe. I hope she goes and leaves franny and Ian and mickey adopt her lol

Carl's whole cop sl was annoying af but I did like his ending. I like the idea of him potentially buying the alibi with Tipping and yeah a cop bar is not ideal but I think it's nice imagining him getting back to his roots u know? Living in the south side, working at a staple of the South Side. He could even live in the apartment above it. I rly liked his ending. It gave us a lot to imagine or hope for for him.

Liam, we know he's going to be great. We saw future him in franks hall of shame and he's this successful beautiful man and he looks happy. He deserves it. But also he said they all have money in the Gallagher future so that's why I'm just thinking of that and that's why I'm okay with how it ended cause I know they'll all be okay

For kev and v, I agree we should have seen them moving already but I get why they didn't. The Alibi didn't sell yet but we know they'll move. They sold their house, they put a deposit on a condo across from Vs mom, they have jobs lined up. I'm good with their ending cause we know what they're going to do and we know they'll be happy, even if it's not a permanent stay, they'll make anything work together.

Thanks for coming to me with your thoughts or hopes for how it should have ended. Sorry I steamrolled and told you my opinions but I figure it'd be okay since you came to me lmaoooo

[lastbluetardis]

I really, really want to say all of them cause I love love LOVE all your writing and fics, but I'll leave something for others and say 2 and 8 (of course, if you'd like to feed into my obsession with your marvelous fics and do them all, I'd absolutely love that! Lol ;p :)

Haha! Thank you, sweet Nonnie! :D Several people have been playing along with this game and there have been no repeats so far, so hopefully you see my answers to them so you can see more of those WIPs.

#2 = PM Rewrite. This is the document I’m using to work on my rewrite of my fic Perfect Match. So far I’ve rewritten and reposted the first three chapters, and I’m nearly finished with fixing up chapter four. I first wrote PM back in late 2016, and it’s incredible how much my writing style has changed and grown over the last 4-5 years. So I decided to work on cleaning up that fic and adding new scenes and making it not sound like 22-year-old Ashley’s writing anymore 😂 I’m running into the problem that I want to add so many more scenes that these chapters are nearly doubling in original length 😂

Snippet from Chapter 4 of Perfect Match Rewrite:

Though his parents reassured him otherwise, James felt no better about their impending separation, especially when he noticed his parents becoming more subdued as the week went on. He tried to make himself scarce to give them time alone, and he didn’t even have the heart to tease them when he overheard them being intimate together nearly every night before he and his mum were due to depart for the UK.

Finally, the fateful morning came. He and his mother had an early flight to Heathrow, and so, at four in the morning, he was shaken awake by his father’s gentle hands and ordered to get dressed. James was practically a zombie as he pulled on the jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt he’d set out the night before. He splashed his face with cool water and brushed his teeth, but that was all he could muster before he joined his parents in the kitchen. The smell of coffee was nauseating so early in the morning, and he wrinkled his nose at the offer of breakfast.

“We’ll eat something at the airport,” his mum said. “Grab your bags, Jamie.”

James shuffled to the front door and grabbed his backpack, which would be his carry-on item, and his suitcase that was filled with just enough clothes to get him through the summer. The rest of his clothes were packed up in boxes to be shipped to San Francisco.

The drive to the airport was mostly silent, with James dozing in the back seat while his parents talked quietly. His dad fussed with them, making sure they had everything they needed, namely their passports, their tickets, and their in-flight entertainment in their carry-on bags.

#8 = Soulmates AU Scene Dump. This is the doc I’ve kept all of my ideas/outlines/random future scenes for my Soulmates Series (Perfectly Matched). I have had so many ideas for this family, and I’ve written so much future content, out to Baby #6 for the family. I’ll have to rewrite a lot of these scenes when I eventually get to the point of being able to use them, because this family has grown in different directs than when I first jotted down these scenes. But it’s a great starting point for me.

Scene Dump snippet:

“Can I get a kitten?”

James blinked at his eldest, then peeked over at Rose from the corner of his eye. She looked just as taken aback as he was, letting him know she was on the same page.

“Darling,” he said gently, “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

“Why not?” she demanded.

“Well, the house is a little busy, right now,” he said. “There are three babies in this house. What if a kitten wants to play rough and accidentally hurts one of them? And kittens take a lot of work, and Mum and I don’t have that kind of time to spare.”

“But I’ll take care of him!” she said earnestly. “You and Mum won’t have to do a thing. He’ll sleep in my room and I’ll keep him away from the babies. But he’s really sweet, he wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

Ainsley’s cheeks flushed red and she bit her lip before dropping her gaze to her shoes.

After a beat of silence, Rose finally asked the question that was floating in his mind. “Ainsley… have you already gotten a kitten without telling us?”

“Not technically,” she whispered sheepishly.

“What does ‘not technically’ mean?” James asked sternly, trying to ignore Ainsley’s big, pleading eyes.

“I didn’t technically get him… I found him,” she answered softly. “In the woods before supper.”

Thanks for asking!

curious about my wips?

[guardianofjunmyeon]

Finding Atlantis (part 6)

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Action/Adventure, Enemies to Lovers, PirateAU

Description:   20 years ago the seas became angry. Unruly and unkind to any sailor,  to  any ship that dared venture too far out in her waters. Many a man  has  heard the tales of Atlantis, the lost city, the key the ocean. But  fewer  men know the tale of it’s missing child. The key to the ocean,  the key  to Atlantis but a lost little one. The power one would hold  should they  find this child would be nearly that of Poseidon himself.  Thus, the hunt  began.    

A/N: I meant to update last week but my VPN wasn’t working! I couldn’t access tumblr bc it’s blocked here in china but i finally got it fixed lol. This one is long! WARNING(s): Smut + Character Death (??)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

After hours of discussion and blindly heading southeast, you all were finally able to somewhat crack the code of the rhyme and the map.

“Follow the sound of your soul, she’ll call out to you to bring you back to your shoal. That’s clearly about the Atlantis return song. It’s the most important part of all of this. If we don’t get a better handle of when it appears and when it doesn’t we won’t get through the rest of the trails.”

“Trials?”

“Yes, there are three different trials masked in the lyrics of the song. The way back isn’t easy. If you leave Atlantis, you have to prove that you truly want to return,” Yeri replies.

You squint at the map now covered in writing.

“She’ll fight you to prove that your heart is true, to crush you and build you back stronger in her darkest shade of blue,” Sehun reads. “It’s about a storm. A very big one by the sound of it.” He points to an area of the map with nothing but water. “You see this area? It’s known for its unruly currents and unnatural weather patterns. It ranges from snow to thunderstorms large enough to wipe out entire islands.”

Junmyeon grazes his fingers over the map, passing the spot Sehun mentioned and further southeast. “Beautiful songs will call out to confuse the path, to distract you, but remembering your heart will get you through…if we continue beyond the location of the storm we’ll be set to approach Isla de Sirena within a week.”

“Shit,” Baekhyun murmurs.

Yeri looks on in confusion. “Why shit?”

“Isla de Sirena is an island known for luring ships underwater. They crash ships among the rocks with song. They appear as the most beautiful creature that you can imagine; whatever you subconsciously find the most alluring. I don’t know how they do it. Different people can look at the same one and see different things; they trick you that way. Mermaids…sirens, whatever you want to call them. Freaky little bitches.”

“Baekhyun,” Junmyeon admonishes.

“What? They are!”

“So we’ve got to face…beautiful singing women? Oh no the horror,” you gasp jokingly.

Baekhyun pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are so horny, and so stupid all the fucking time.”

“You’re one to fucking talk-”

“Children!” Junmyeon scolds. “Can we please hold off on the flirting until this is over?”

“We aren’t flirting-”

“Anyway!” You and Baekhyun close your mouths in embarrassment. “We’ve gone near Isla de Sirena, once,” Sehun adds grimly, eyebrows pitching angrily. “If you’re able to ignore their voices then you can see them for they are. They’re the ugliest creatures I’ve ever seen in my life.” He shivers.

“So what’s the final trial?” Baekhyun asks, back to contributing to the conversation and not being a pain in your ass.

“She’ll finally take you in her arms again, cradled and safe where all life began…” Yeri reads. A sigh. “We aren’t completely sure. It’s something about a rebirth?”

You scratch your chin.

“Maybe it’s about being drowned.”

Everyone turns their eyes to you.

“What?” you ask; your wide eyes look back at everyone staring at you as if you said something crazy. You point to the map in the general area where you think you all may end up. “There’s no land anywhere near here, and the city is underwater. Born from water, taken away from water, and then reclaimed by the water. If you leave, you must be drowned and reborn into an Atlantian again right? Why else would you forget your memories and connection to the sea the longer you’re away?”

“You are reborn in the place where life began…” Baekhyun mumbles. “You might be right. The final trial is a drowning of some kind. There’s a reason only Atlantian’s are the only people who can reach the city.” Baekhyun smacks you on the shoulder. “You’re not completely useless!”

You frown and hold your shoulder.

Bastard.

~~~

Candles cover the deck of the ship as the sun sets on the horizon. You watch somberly as each member of your crew places an object that reminds them of Taemin, of Amber, of Kun, and of Jaehyun in each of the four caskets meant to sail them to the other side.

Their bodies are wrapped in cloth to save everyone the trauma of facing their decomposing faces. Flowers, candies, articles of clothes surround each body with the things that made them who they were in life.

And will hopefully comfort them in the land of death.

Your most artistically inclined deckhand, Ten, places a portrait of each of them in their respective boat. An image to match the body.

“Jaehyun was always smiling; he worked hard as a gunner. He’d hoped one day to be master gunner of the ship.” Mark stands over the casket. “He uh, he never said much but he had the most imaginative mind of any person I ever met,” he says with a sad smile. “When the cannon backfired and killed him, it was quick, so at least he didn’t suffer for long. Farewell friend. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Luna takes over where Mark left off, standing in front of Amber’s casket. “I’ve known Amber since we were kids. She was a strange one,” she laughs. “She was very head strong and opinionated even when she was wrong. We both knew that working in the artillery was going to be rough, that it would be dangerous, but I know that she loved this job more than anything. She had a family with us, and she died where she would have wanted, I think.” Tears fill her eyes as she sits back down in the circle of crewmen.

“Kun…was like an older brother to me. He would tell me that I was getting on his nerves, but he would always take care of me…uh…take care of all of us in the best way he could. Every meal he served, every wound he healed, was done with care. Unfortunately, sickness isn’t as kind. He tended to Taemin with his last breath, tried to heal with all he had until he had nothing else to give. I’m going to miss him and his cheesy magic tricks.” Ten takes in a deep breath to keep his voice from wavering. “I hope he’s taken care of with as much love as he gave us.”

You can hear people holding back their tears. Sniffles and soft sobs escaping into the air every few seconds.

This time you stand as the representative to send off Taemin. You avoid everyone’s eyes and focus your gaze on his wrapped body and the trinkets around him. “Taemin was one of my earliest crewmen. I may have owned the ship, but Taemin was the one who knew best how she moved. He piloted with a grace and confidence I have still yet to achieve. I don’t have a single doubt that he’ll be able to guide himself to the other side without issue. He had a natural skill for movement.” You focus on an object nestled snuggly at his side. “I just hope he doesn't lose any of the things we’re sending with him the way he always loses his money pouches.” You manage a smile.

A couple of people chuckle softly, sadly.

“As Captain of the Storm Chaser, I release the four of you from duty.” You raise your gun in the air. “I couldn’t have asked for braver, hardworking, and loyal men.” You fire a single shot into the air.

It rings through the night.

Everyone stands, begins to close the wooden coffins, and Junmyeon soaks them in gunpowder and oil.

You watch the coffins get lowered into the water one by one. As they begin to float away, you, Mark, Luna, and Ten line up along the edge of the ship.

“Ready,” you all cock your guns. “Aim.”

“Fire.”

The coffins alight with flames. Yixing lights a single firework and it shoots into the air and covers the sky in bright yellow sparks.

May these lights guide them on their future paths.

No one moves until the coffins are far out of sight, their flames no longer visible. Until nothing but darkness rests in the distance. With heavy eyes, and heavier hearts, you all pull away from the railing.

Those who were close to the ones sent away cry openly and you allow everyone the rest of the night to rest and mourn as they see fit. Crying, shaking, screaming.

People cope in different ways.

As everyone disperses below deck you see Yixing rubbing Jongin’s back as the two of them cry clinging tightly to the other.

You know that Yixing grew up with Taemin. Yixing had been the one to recommend him for the crew because of their shared history. Knowing now that Yixing knew Jongin at the same time, you realize that Jongin must have known Taemin closely as well.

Leaving them to console one another, you walk away.

The stories of their deaths, of their lives, makes your heart a bit less heavy. Knowing that they died doing what they wanted, and not because life was stolen from them in situations counter to their personality eases a bit of the pain.

Minutely.

It still hurts, but the anger is no longer there. Just sadness.

This is the life of pirates after all.

Junmyeon has hidden himself away somewhere on the ship, as he always does when he wants to cry without being found, so you make your way towards the food storage for a drink. You need it after today.

People cope in different ways.

The stairs creak as you descend. One of the lanterns is already on, bright near the liquor storage. It shouldn’t surprise you. You wouldn’t be the only person who wants to drink to numb a bit of the pain.

What does surprise you is who you find hunched over with his face in his hands.

“Baekhyun?”

His head lifts and you immediately take notice of the red in his visible eye and face in the dim lighting. He seems alarmed to have been caught. He looks away in shame.

You sit down in front of him.

The bottle of whiskey at his side is half empty; you reach for it and take a sip.

For your men.

Silence shrouds you both.

You feel the need to speak. To clear the air. Whether you are doing it for him or for yourself you aren’t sure. “No one blames you, you know,” you say so softly that it almost blends into the silence. You hope he doesn’t hear.

But of course he does.

He looks over with anger. “I never said it was my fault.”

“You didn’t have to. You’re down here drinking alone after a funeral. This screams ‘this is all my fault’ you emo fucker.”

He snatches the bottle from your hands.

“Look, okay. No one thinks it’s your fault. You heard the stories. Yeah, you guys shot my ship, but their deaths weren’t directly a result of that. Things went wrong; I will accept that it was just a shot to immobilize us. If any of us thought you a murderer, in this case, we would have hung you by your neck long ago.” You forcefully grab the bottle back with a frown. “There’s plenty of other shit for you to feel guilty over. Like the time you shot me…or stabbed me…or left me on that island for dead.”

“I swear to the Gods-”

“The point is…this one isn’t on you. You don’t need to carry this guilt. Not this time.” You take a quick drink. “If however,” you point your finger at him menacingly, “this was on purpose, then I take all that back and I will kill you right fucking here I swear to the Gods.”

The bottle is taken back. “It wasn’t,” he admits, softly, angry. A swig. “It wasn’t on purpose,” he says again tiredly.

His honesty takes you by surprise. Baekhyun has killed just as many people as you have in your life. If he had tried to kill them, well that would be expected. But for him to be this affected by the accidental deaths? That’s surprising.

“What are you doing down here anyway?” he asks.

“Do you really think you’re the only person on this ship who hides down here drinking? You’re talking to the master!” you boast. “And it’s my ship you ungrateful wrench.” You finish off what’s left of the whiskey and reach for a bottle of golden rum tucked securely on a shelf. Uncorking it with your teeth, you hold it in the air between you. “To Taemin, Kun, Amber, and Jaehyun!”

It burns like hell itself going down.

You hold it out for Baekhyun with an expectant eyebrow raise. You wait.

He grabs it gently. “To Taemin, Kun, Amber, and Jaehyun,” he repeats in a murmur. He makes a noise of pain as the alcohol burns its way down his throat. “What the fuck is this?”

You shiver as the alcohol settles uncomfortably in your stomach. “It's the bad rum I think.” You cough violently. “Oh fuck I think I’m going to die,” you say clutching your stomach.

His wild laugh echoes in the dark space. A bit of the gloom lifts.

You let your hands fall from your stomach while you take in the relaxed happiness on his candlelit face. His eye crinkled in a crescent, shining with mirth. You don’t think you’ve seen him laugh like that since the first time you met him.

He’s pretty. You’d have to be stupid not to admit it. From his soft and shiny hair, to his cheeks that bunch up when he smiles. From his big dumb ears to all of the little moles that dot his body.

The bottle goes back up to his ridiculously pink lips and he laughs as it hurts his throat just as bad as the first sip.

All it takes is a second of thoughtless, drunken courage for you to lean forward and quickly press your lips against his, cutting off his giggles.

When you pull pack, the happiness on his face has made way for shock and then once more to nothing.

“Don’t kiss me,” he says tonelessly. His voice is serious, but you see the spark of challenge in his eye.

Ignoring the part of you that always tells you that jumping headfirst into him is a bad idea, you lean in again, slower. You brace your hands on his thighs and feel them tense beneath your palms. He stares at your lips and you watch enrapt as his tongue pokes out to wet his bottom lip.

You can feel your skin vibrating from the proximity to him, and you freeze; a breath away from meeting skin with skin. Your eyes glance up to meet his and you can see the want, the restlessness, and something else you can’t quite place in the dark.

As if waiting any longer would be torturous, he leans forward impatiently to press his lips against yours. The bottle of rum falls to the ground and spills onto the floorboards of the storage room.

You don’t care.

You push harder; open your mouth to let his tongue slide against yours in a way that sends tingles through every nerve in your body. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the touch of sadness, but something feels different about this time.

You crawl onto his lap, driven purely by instinct and press every inch of your body against his. Heat seeps through your clothes and you pant longingly as he pulls you closer by your neck, his other hand grabbing you roughly by your ass. A wanton moan escapes your mouth and he pulls you closer, rougher. Breaths puff into each other’s mouths as you messily connect your lips over and over again. It’s uncoordinated. It’s wet. It’s exactly what you need.

You thread your fingers in his hair and yank his head back; diving to lick and suck along the column of his neck, to the sensitive spot behind his ear that you know drives him crazy. His grip on your body tightens as he releases a shaky groan and rolls his hips up against yours. Anticipation thrums through your body. To every noise, to every touch your body responds in earnest.

This is nothing but a distraction. For you. For the both of you, you don’t care. Neither of you have to think as clothes are removed. The sadness can be ignored as you claw against his skin and coax his tongue into your mouth. It’s all movement. All feeling. All lust.

People cope in different ways.

It always happens like this. You argue. You fight. You threaten each other. You fuck until you’re both exhausted and too tired to care about the years of hatred between you. For these few moments all you are, are bodies. Bodies moving in tandem, kissing the right places, touching the right spots, connecting at the right angle. Like this things are easy, wordless.

You each just understand how the other works.

Every movement is matched in urgency, in desperation. Touch for touch. Kiss for kiss. Sound for sound. Push for pull. Gasps, moans, whimpers are muted as best you can in the quiet of the storage. You don’t realize that you’re subconsciously avoiding aggravating the stitches that lie there, still fresh, in his side as your hands leave burning paths along his skin.

Just for now, you can allow yourselves to feel that maybe you don’t hate each other as much as you let on.

~~~

“Get your own fucking telescope!”

“Where am I going to get one? We’re in the middle of the god forsaken ocean; do you expect me to pull it out of my ass?”

“You should have brought yours with you if you wanted to use one so bad! That doesn’t give you permission to just take my shit whenever you feel like it. You aren’t Captain here.”

“Oh, bite me.”

“I’ll do worse than that. Seulgi, get me my pistol.”

“Captain I don’t think-”

“You think you’re going to shoot me? Chanyeol where’s my gun?!”

“I’m gonna shoot you right in your last fucking working eye you dirty fucking son of a-”

A hand covers your mouth before you can finish your curse. “Baekhyun, you’re needed in the kitchen. Kyungsoo is asking for you.” You and Baekhyun share one last deadly glare before he stalks off and you’re released.

“What the hell Minseok?” You turn on your gunner, anger from your argument with Baekhyun being projected instead onto him. It has to go somewhere.

He crosses his arms over his chest, unbothered.

“So you’re in love with him right? That's why you’re acting like this?”

Your eyes bulge out of your skull. “I’m sorry, what did you just ask me?”

He sighs, grabs you by your arm and drags you all the way to the infirmary. You’re forced to sit down stupefied as Minseok stares at you expectantly. “The two of you are exhausting to watch. If you weren’t two of our most capable men we would have tied you both up and put you in the brig until we found Atlantis days ago,” he says evenly.

You scoff, mouth agape.

“I would tell you to fuck and move on, but seeing as that seems to be what triggers a fresh round of arguments, I’m going to ask that you two refrain from ever having sex on the ship again in the future.”

You splutter embarrassed. Your skin heats at having been called out so boldly. “W-what?! How- Wh- How’d you find out?”

“Any time the two of you have sex, you spend the next month or so telling all of us how much you hate him, how you’re going to kill him, blah blah blah. After a while you stop being as vocal about it, but then we make port, usually at Arae, and he happens to be there, then BAM we're back where we started. You’re obsessed with each other.”

You flush. “We are not,” you try to deny. His face is unimpressed. “I don't know where you got the idea that either of us feel anything but pure hatred for the other. Okay yeah, we’ve had sex a couple of times. So what? It doesn’t mean anything. I’ve had sex with half of Arae.” You cross your arms defiantly.

“As soon as this is all over, we’ll part ways...in 6 months we’ll go to Arae for a bit, as we always do, you’ll have ‘angry hate sex’ yet again and then spend the next month being pissy over his existence. No one who genuinely hates someone spends so much time a) around them willingly and b) obsessing over them when they aren’t around,” Minseok says matter-of-factly. “I think you should both admit you’re in love with each other so we can all move on.”

“Minseok!”

“I agree,” Jongin’s head pops up from behind the singular bed in the room.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, heat again filling your cheeks at the extra witness to this interrogation.

“I work here?”

“I mean hiding behind the bed!”

“Oh…I uh tripped and then the door opened and you guys started talking and I was too afraid to get up and interrupt,” he says quickly.

You squint in judgment.

“This whole…” Minseok waves his hand around as he searches for the word, “…archenemies thing is getting old, Captain. If you really wanted to kill him, you would have done it already. And I’m sure the same goes for Byun. Right Jongin?” he turns to face the younger.

“Yeah,” Jongin agrees with a shrug.

You can’t believe your ears. “He just…hasn’t done anything worth actually killing him over yet. He’s useful sometimes…for information…” you murmur lamely. The excuse is weak even to you.

“You are both dumb and annoying…and also super transparent. Whenever you injure the other, it’s always in a place that won’t kill or do permanent damage. Don’t act like it’s just been luck that you’ve both managed to miss any kind of serious blow from the other. You’re both deadly fighters, you know how to kill someone if you want them dead.”

“He ditched me in cuffs on that island-”

“You had the key to the cuffs,” Jongin chimes in unhelpfully.

Minseok rolls his eyes at your words. “Yes, and again, in a survivable situation. Was there not food and shit on that island?”

You open and close your mouth pathetically.

“Exactly. It’s not like you’re an incompetent dumbass. You would be able to find your way off even if you hadn’t been found. He didn’t blow the ship to bits like he could have a month ago, you haven’t slit his throat like you could have many months ago. You both dance around injuring each other, making the other’s life difficult, and fucking. You’re in love, please just accept it. I don’t care if you’re into BDSM and blood play or whatever freaky shit gets you guys off, but I would at least appreciate it if you kept it in your bedroom.”

Jongin nods from the back. “I just think it’s obvious,” he adds simply.

“Pff…Psh…Tch…I’m-I am appalled that you would talk to your Captain like this.”

“I know, I know. You could have us hanged, shot, thrown in the ocean, whatever…but the fact of the matter is that you aren’t going to do any of that, and you know that we’re right. Now, I’m going to go make sure Chanyeol hasn’t shot any of my men with any of my valuable pistols, and I’ll leave you to your duties, Captain.” Minseok nods his head with finality and exits the room.

Mutineer…

You glare at Jongin for ganging up on you. He flushes timidly. “I’m uh…gonna go see if Kyungsoo needs any help…Captain.” With a nervous smile he dashes from the room.

This is mutiny…

~~~

The ship sails southeast for days before anything alerts you all of the impeding first trial. The weather is normal, the water is normal, and then all of a sudden, the winds become violent.

“Captain, I think we’re getting close to whatever the first test is…” Yixing says tremulously.

The wind whips around you and the sails of the ship flap violently. There’s no way to tell which way the wind is blowing from as it whips from what feels like every side simultaneously. The ship tilts dangerously to one side.

“Junmyeon…that song telling you anything right about now?” You ask anxiously.

Your first mate looks out on the horizon with worried eyes. “We’re going the right way…” is all he says.

“Helpful,” Yixing murmurs sarcastically.

There is no visible sign of a storm; nothing seems out of the ordinary outside of the unnatural winds. The crew is already reefing your regular sails and raising the storm jib and trysail. If the winds get any stronger, which they will, they’ll catch your regular sails and capsize your ship before the waves even begin to hit.

“Who can man the helm? Who’s the best pilot on board right now?” you ask Yixing.

Yixing looks around a bit panicked. “I don’t know… I don’t know Captain.” The ship lurches to the side.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” you scan the ship. Most of the men are working on preparing the proper sails, securing any moving parts, and making sure the wind alone won’t turn the ship on her side. You see Baekhyun working with Wendy on securing lose lines. You haven’t talked to him since your lecture from Minseok all those days ago. “Junmyeon, go check to make sure we have enough ballast in the hold. We’re going to be rocking and we need to pray that we have enough weight to keep us as stable as possible.”

He rushes away; you try to think of what else you can do to prepare. There’s no way to tell how long this storm is going to last, how bad it’s going to be, and you would rather prepare for the worst.

A sea anchor.

“Johnny!” The boatswain is immediately at your side. “Take whoever you need and deploy the sea anchor. We should have one somewhere in the hold. I need you to work fast, but be thorough.”

The ship is going to have to sail against the wind and against the waves. The wind will push the ship off course, but to survive a storm like this the ship needs to keep its bow to the waves. If a wave catches the ship on her side or back, there’s no chance for survival. You’ll have to use your sea anchor and just pray that the Gods are feeling merciful.

“Baekhyun!” you shout. He turns immediately at the sound of your voice. “How good are you at the wheel?”

“I’m decent.”

“How’s your tracking? Your jibbing? Can you keep the ship from capsizing in this storm?”

He looks up in the sky when the sound of thunder shakes the floorboards. “My jibbing isn't the best, but I think I can keep her afloat,” he promises.

The feeling of static fills the air. The hair on your body rises to attention. Another rumble of thunder rolls across the ocean, louder than before. The sky is darker than it was 5 minutes ago.

There isn’t much longer until the storm hits.

“I need you at the wheel. I’m trusting my ship to you. Don’t let me down.” With a determined nod, Baekhyun is off. You see your first strike of lighting. Bright blue and not far off.

Chanyeol runs up to you to assure you that all of the cannons, ammunition, and artillery are properly secured. “Tell Minseok to get all his men below deck in the storm rooms. Secure any hatch and pray to the Gods that we make it through this,” you instruct. He nods and runs off.

When a storm hits, it hurts more than it helps to have people above deck. Three people would do the job just as well as all 20. Half of weathering a storm is the training and skill of the crew; and the other half is just pure luck.

The beginning patters of rain begin to pelt the ship. You run back up to the helm where Baekhyun has stationed himself.

The ocean gets choppy, picks up ferocity. The ship leans starboard. Baekhyun has never steered your ship, and truthfully, you have no idea whether or not he can actually steer through a storm. You’ve never seen him at the wheel of any ship in all the years you’ve known him.

“Do you think we’ll make it through this?” you ask.

“Honestly…I don’t know,” he admits. “We have enough sea room; we won’t crash into anything this far out. I just hope we can pick up enough speed before the waves start to grow.”

Junmyeon reappears, with Kyungsoo at his side, both out of breath. “We’ve prepared all that we can. The sea anchor is deployed, we’ve got a decent amount of ballast, the jib is ready to be backwinded, and the crew is all prepared for the rocking. What’s the plan?”

“Heaving to,” Baekhyun says simply. He swipes at his bangs, heavy with water and clinging to this forehead. “We keep the bow to the waves, keep close to the wind, and then lock the helm in place.”

“Won’t we broadside?!”

“No, if we were to lie ahull, we would broadside,” Kyungsoo supplies, blocking his eyes from the rain picking up in ferocity. “By heaving to, we can keep the ship from going parallel to the waves and capsizing. We’ll have to stay above deck to correct it if the wind or waves suddenly change. Since you’ve got a sea anchor we’ve got more chance of keeping the ship sailing straight into the waves rather than along them.”

“If heaving to doesn’t work, we try to run off downwind. As the wind increases we’ll have to slow down the ship as much as we can so that we don’t dive straight into the wave in front of us.” A bolt of lightning hits the waves. The rain gets harder.

“We would die…” You say unhelpfully. Lighting blasts in front of you and the waves crash angrily against the ship’s sides.

“Exactly. So if we run off, we’re going to need more than the four of us to throw whatever heavy lines you have off the stern,” Baekhyun’s voice rises to be heard over the increasingly loud winds and waves.

“As a last result, we’ll lie ahull and just fucking pray that when we capsize the ship holds for long enough to keep all of us alive,” Kyungsoo shouts.

You exhale shakily as another three bolts of lightning flash across the sky.

Poseidon be kind to us all.

You leave Baekhyun with the job of steering the ship against the waves that grow in size and power by the second.

At Kyungsoo’s instruction, Junmyeon is in charge of keeping the jib backwinded, and you reef the trysail as soon as it becomes clear that it’s going to be a hindrance in the grand scheme of things. Kyungsoo stands at Baekhyun’s side correcting course when he gets thrown off balance. Baekhyun does the same as Kyungsoo is knocked to the side in turn.

The waves become brutal, rocking the ship so hard that it’s nearly impossible to keep on your feet for more than 10 seconds at a time.

The wind finally sets in a single direction, fiercer than anything you’ve faced, and the general direction of the waves becomes apparent. The ship rocks violently from side to side and then immediately forward and back. You’re thrown into the foremast by the unexpected direction change with enough force to knock the wind out of your body. You gasp in pain. You get up on wobbling legs and try to breathe even as the water falls so fast and heavy around you that it feels equivalent to drowning.

You can’t see more than two feet ahead of yourself.

Think. Think.

There is rope at your feet, secured to the mainmast of the ship. You untie it with cold, wet fingers and hold it tight as you walk to the helm. The ship crashes into another large wave and you fall to your knees as water washes over the bow of the hull, covers the deck in freezing water and pitches the ship forwards. You stand up, shivering but determined. You tie the rope around your own waist to help you keep note of where you’ve come from.

Getting to the helm is a challenge, but you make it. Junmyeon is helping Baekhyun and Kyungsoo lock it in place.

“We should head below deck!” You shout as loud as you can. Thunder and lightning work in tandem to drown out your voice. To remind you of who is louder. Who has more power. You’re soaked to the bone.

Each man above deck is in a similar state. “We’re going below deck!” Junmyeon shouts. “We think heaving to may work.” The ship lurches dangerously to the right.

“Quick! Let’s go,” Kyungsoo screams, hair clinging to his forehead in inky black tendrils.

You use the rope to guide you. It feels as though you’re swimming through the air with the amount of resistance the winds and rain are putting up. Kyungsoo makes it to the hatch that leads below first. You follow behind, climbing down the ladder with shaking limbs. Water leaks through the boards, but it’s a welcome change from the brutality of facing Mother Nature directly.

You gasp for breath, finally able to breathe without also inhaling water, and look around the space for the ship’s emergency supplies. The ship dips, your stomach lurches.

Freezing water streams into the room from the open hatch above. You realize belatedly that there are only two of you in the compartment. Baekhyun and Junmyeon haven’t made it down.

You’re thrown to the ground when the ship dips without warning.

Clattering catches your attention as Junmyeon is swept into the room with a fresh rush of water. “Baekhyun fell overboard!” Junmyeon screams. He crashes against the ground. The sky screams.

What?

Kyungsoo turns away from opening the hatch down to a lower level of the ship to gape at Junmyeon’s words in horror.

Gasping, soaked, Junmyeon looks around the compartment frantically.

You’re moving before you have a chance to think.

You vaguely hear your name being called out from behind, but you don’t turn around. Rope still secured around your waist, you run, slip, stumble, over to the closest life boat. As fast as your shaking hands can work, you cut yourself free of the mainmast and tie the end of the rope not tied to your body to the dinghy.

You slice through the thick ropes holding the dinghy to the side of the ship with an urgency you’ve never felt. Water hits you head on, chilling you to the bone.

The final rope snaps and you and the dighy fall into the water with the force of landing on cement. Something is broken, but your adrenaline is pumping so violently that you can’t feel the pain. It doesn’t register.

Doesn’t matter.

You look around frenzied. The water is pitch black and moving too fast. The rain pelts your skin. It stings, burns, blurs your vision.

The waves are too big for him to survive out here on his own.

They’re too big for you to survive in your search for him.

The sky roars.

The waves crash, flip your boat once, twice.

You settle upright for the second time when, by the grace of the Gods, you see his white shirt illuminated against the dark water by a strike of lightning. You row frantically as a wave begins to swell. You nearly scream in relief when you reach him, but the sound dies as your heart sinks.

He’s not moving.

And he’s face down.

With all the energy you can muster, you pull him into your little boat. You take a few seconds you catch your breath, then you realize the height at which the wave has lifted you. It begins to cascade down; instinctively, you wrap your arms around Baekhyun’s unmoving form and brace yourself for the crash.

It’s dizzying.

It hurts.

It’s terrifying.

You hold your breath, close your eyes, hold onto the man in your arms with all you have, and wait for the water to stop jostling you around so violently. The water seems to calm slightly, so you open your eyes.

The water is dark, and then bright. Black, and then illuminated by lighting.

Your chest tightens as your need for oxygen reaches desperation. You maneuver yourself beneath the water enough to hold Baekhyun with one arm and swim to the top with the other.

You break the surface and gasp for air desperately.

You pull your rope and the boat appears at your side, thankfully upright. You lift Baekhyun aboard first, and then with heavy limbs, you topple on top of him. You don’t give yourself a chance to catch your breath before you’re leaning over him checking for signs of life.

You lower your ear to his chest. You can’t tell if he’s breathing. If his heart is beating.

“Come on Byun. Don’t die on me like this,” you beg. You repeatedly push against his chest, the way you were taught to restart a heart. After a few beats you press your ear to his chest again to listen for a change.

Nothing.

“Fuck. Come on…come on,” you pant.

You pinch his nose and lean down to cover his mouth with yours, filling his lungs with the air that he’s unable to take in on his own. His chest rises each time you exhale into his mouth. You go back to pumping your locked hands against his chest. A wave knocks you on your side. The boat stays upright.

You exhale into his mouth again, once, twice. You beg the rain to let up. You beg the waves to grow smaller.

You beg his heart to start beating.

He jerks and water spurts from his mouth. Relief hits you so hard that all the energy left in your body is expelled and you sag forward and land directly onto his chest.

You can finally hear the dull thumping of his heart. You can feel the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

At last, you can take a second to just breathe.

The small boat continues to jerk around, but it’s clear that the worst of the storm has passed. The waves now are shallow and choppy. The rain has lessened to nothing but a drizzle. The thunder rumbles farther and farther in the distance.

And Baekhyun’s heartbeat gets stronger.

You close your eyes, and let exhaustion overcome you, lulled into sleep by the beat of his heart and the rocking of the boat.

[tirednotflirting]

on a summer evening (baby, you’re the end of june)

please enjoy more soft lashton that i wrote for stress relief after another week of job applications

special thanks to @another-lonely-heart for giving this a read last night and saying such kind things about it and also @calumcest bc she yelled at me enough the other day to convince me to start actually posting my writing lol. 

The early summer, golden hour sky is dark with swirling gray clouds and a windy rainstorm when Ashton realizes he’s in love.

There hadn’t been any rain in the forecast for the day. It was four days past the solstice so it should have been miserable out, but LA decided to give its faithful citizens a little treat in the form of a light breeze so sitting outside with a cool drink and a guitar was quite pleasurable. Which is exactly why when he received a text from Luke asking if he could play through some of the melodies he had been playing around with the past couple of weeks, Ashton replied to tell him that the front door would be open and to grab himself a drink before coming to the back deck.

Ashton locks his phone and turns when he hears the sliding door open and attempts to control the blush he feels rise to his cheeks when he watches Luke step toward the chair beside him in a white linen shirt that floats against his chest, one hand holding the neck of his guitar and a beer in the other. His hair is back in a tiny bun and his sunglasses threaten to fall off the end of his nose. He's a vision of a nice summer day, like the one they’re having right now, Ashton thinks to himself.

They spend the next couple of hours working through some of what Luke had come up with that he plays for Ashton from piecing together bits from voice notes on his phone. Luke giggles at the older boy whenever he stumbles over some of the more technical patterns, still not a native to the strings like Luke. (And okay, yes, maybe he was faking some of that a little bit. But it made Luke laugh in the way that his nose would scrunch up far too adorably so there was really no harm to it, he thinks.) The stuff he’s been working on is really good, Ashton repeatedly tells him. He can see all of them ending up in their future singles.

They've just started working on one of the last voice notes that Luke has when a raindrop splashes off of the body of the guitar Ashton was holding from when he had run down to his studio about halfway through the list. A matching pout appears against the lips of both boys as they gather up everything they had brought out as the raindrops pick up, their clothes dampening as they hurry through the glass door.

It’s within the next couple of minutes that the storm neither of them had noticed previously really rolls in and picks up. It's still relatively early, only about 4.30, but as Ashton stands just inside the sliding door looking up at the sky, he knows this is going to go on for a while. His weather app confirms the thought and Luke groans when he looks at the screen Ashton is holding out toward him. “Guess I should head home then?”

Ashton turns from his spot just inside the kitchen where he’s just plugged in his phone to the charger at the island. They’ve had a really good afternoon and for some reason he really really does not want it to end. “I mean,” he starts, a hand running through the hair at the back of his neck, the ends now wet from their escape out of the storm. “I wouldn’t mind the company. Unless you’ve gotta get back to Petunia?”

Luke shakes his head quickly, a small smile appearing as the curls that have escaped his bun fly around like a little halo. “I dropped her at Cal’s place on my way here for a playdate with Duke, I'm sure he wouldn’t mind her being there awhile longer.”

Ashton tries then to control the deepening of his dimples as he nods at the response. “Well, we should change then and maybe we can break for a bit and make an early dinner?”

Luke agrees to the plan and follows Ashton down the hall to his bedroom. Ashton hunts around for a pair of sweats and a long sleeve with the band’s logo from the previous tour, the current weather allowing him to ignore the calendar for the time being in terms of wearing something cozy. He turns to face Luke and gestures towards the closet as if to say “have at it” and changes on the opposite side of the room, leaving Luke to do the same inside the walk-in.

They all practically grew up living out of suitcases in shared hotel rooms, so naturally, all four of them have pieces that belong to the others in their closets. Knowing that any of his pants would run just a little bit too short on Luke, Ashton assumes Luke would go digging through the drawers for a pair of his own that are inevitably tucked away somewhere. He figures he’ll do the same with his t-shirts. So it comes as a surprise (though not one he’s even the slightest bit upset about) when Luke steps out from the closet with one of Ashton's bigger hoodies covering his upper half. The sleeves hang a bit long on Luke, his fingers able to wrap around the cuff to make sweater paws.

(Ashton silently prays that the lack of light in the room due to the storm blocking much natural light from entering will obscure the blush he knows is boldly sitting on his cheeks at the sight of the cozy boy.)

“Is it cool if I borrow this? Kinda chilly,” Luke asks.

“Yeah, no, of course,” Ashton nods back, knowing he answered the question far too quickly.

Luke grins his thanks. “Let's make something, I'm starving.”

Ashton soon realizes that when Luke asked if they could make something, what he really meant was if Ashton could make them something. Not that he minds at all, knowing that growing up as they did made learning skills around the kitchen a little difficult on the blonde. He needs to go to the store soon so he pulls out what odds and ends he can find - some chicken, some rice, random vegetables still in his produce drawer. Ashton sets to work cleaning and chopping up the vegetables after figuring out the spice situation for the chicken.

Luke watches him work silently from where he’s hopped up onto the counter, telling Ashton stories from his week. He talks about Petunia, talks about the call he had with his parents and brothers. They discuss plans for the Fourth of July (ignoring their lack of American citizenship in favor of lighting sparklers and eating loads of good food in Michael's backyard). It’s a nice, lazy (incredibly domestic, Ashton thinks) activity, catching up on the week while Ashton makes them a meal. He wonders if the simplicity of it all has Luke feeling as warm as he does.

Luke decides he wants a mug of hot chocolate and pulls the powder and milk from their respective spots, despite Ashton's complaints that it was too much sugar before a meal. Luke is stirring the powder into the microwave-warmed mug of milk when his phone starts playing a tone letting him know he’s getting a call. He drops the spoon in the sink before reaching into his hoodie pocket and swiping his thumb across the screen. He smiles as he brings the phone to his ear. “Hey Cal, my girl behaving?”

He picks up the mug and walks out from the kitchen, standing at the sliding door that leads to the backyard, a bright smile lighting up his eyes despite the lack of sunshine from beyond the glass, obviously laughing at something Calum has just told him. Ashton reduces the heat on the pan he’s just tossed the sautéed vegetables into with the chicken, knowing the rice needs a few more minutes. He turns then to lean against the counter and look at the boy standing in his living room as he wipes his hands on a dish towel.

And it's then that he feels it. Watching Luke giggle softly through his response to whatever he’s speaking with Calum about, his mug held close to his face to warm his cheeks, Ashton feels something. He’s watching Luke comfortably move through his home, wearing Ashton’s clothes, talking to their friend as he sips from his designated favorite mug while Ashton makes him dinner. It's a scene that has a mob of butterflies flying through his stomach straight up to his heart and taking over his thoughts because Ashton suddenly finds himself knowing he would give up anything to watch this exact moment play out everyday for the rest of his life if he could. Watching this person he cares so so deeply for be warm and safe and happy and with him. Ashton had always thought he had been in love before but now as he watches Luke's eyes squeeze shut as he laughs against the rim of the mug, the porch light illuminating his face with a soft yellow glow, he knows this is new to him and it’s love.

He's given about three seconds to process all of that before Luke turns to him. He's still smiling but his eyes give Ashton a confused look, as if asking if he’s okay. Ashton's lips turn up and he waves his hand as if to tell him to dismiss his concern. Luke lifts his mug to acknowledge the response as he lacks a free hand and turns away as he wanders to the couch, phone still pressed to his ear.

Ashton turns back to the stove, attempting to force himself to focus on plating the food he’s made rather than the thoughts swirling and racing through his mind about the man on his sofa. He’d come to terms with this crush a long time ago, not permitting himself to ever think about it for too long for this exact reason. He’s internally blaming the long spring of being cooped up inside his house with his thoughts when he feels a presence behind him. He moves to turn to face Luke, to try to make some joke about why he’s bugging Ashton while he cooks, when a gentle hand is placed against his left hip to hold him in place while Luke holds out his phone in front of Ashton's face.

“Look at Duke and Petunia,” he coos. “They’re cuddling.”

And the picture is incredibly cute, the two dogs cozied up together on the floor in front of Calum’s couch. Ashton tells Luke this in a tone that the drummer realizes probably sounds just a little too strained to be talking about dogs napping together. The tone must have been recognized by Luke as a puzzled look falls on his face as he squeezes the hip his hand rests at and bumps his head against Ashton’s temple. “You all good?”

Ashton reaches up, rubbing at Luke’s messy curls teasingly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just hungry.” He steps out of Luke’s hold then as he turns and hands him a plate, gesturing over to the bar where they can eat (his dining room table being covered with papers since the band’s tour meetings earlier in the week) and asks Luke to grab him a water while he finishes making his own plate.

They eat relatively quickly, neither of them realizing until they sit down that they never bothered to eat lunch before working on music earlier. Luke volunteers to clean up while Ashton flips through Netflix for something to watch while they wait for the storm to pass, the radar predicting the heavier part should be past the city within the next few hours. 

Behind him, Ashton hears the dishwasher close and start a cleaning cycle as he clicks play on some indie movie that’s been sitting in his queue for awhile. He takes a seat close to one of the arms of the couch as he watches the opening credits roll. Luke flicks off the kitchen light, leaving the room dark aside from a lamp near the hall that leads to the foyer and the glow of the TV. He takes a seat beside Ashton on the couch, his head immediately falling to rest against the shoulder of the other boy. 

Ashton tenses for just a moment at the pressure against his shoulder and the smell of Luke’s conditioner hitting his nose before he relaxes some. He sits up just a bit so Luke isn’t having to bend over to a weird angle to allow the position. Luke hums his thanks and pulls the sleeves of the hoodie back over his palms. 

They watch the characters on screen go about their lives in pretty normal situations that indie movies tend to be fond of romanticizing. Ashton still feels warm with all of his feelings and butterflies flapping around in his body when he feels a hand reach over, fingers slipping into the spots between his own, a slightly smaller palm pressing against his. He turns his head just slightly but makes no move to change the position, only moving their clasped hands to rest against his lap as Luke’s thumb rubs gently against his first knuckle.

“Days with you are nice,” Luke says softly, so much so that Ashton barely hears him over the dialogue happening between the characters on the screen. “And slow.”

Ashton lets out a laugh, one he hopes doesn’t sound as nervous as he feels. “Slow?” 

“They feel slower, but like,” he stops the motion of his thumb for a minute and Ashton lets his head tilt some to rest against Luke’s curls. “But a good kind of slow? Like the universe is allowing more time to fit into the hours somehow.”

Ashton’s heart is soaring at his words. It practically leaves him at a loss for them himself. “Nice of the universe to let us have that, I guess.”

“I feel pretty lucky, yeah.”

That’s all he says then, his focus returning back to the screen. Ashton isn’t quite sure what the short exchange just then meant but he can tell that it meant something and for now he decides that’s good enough. He wants to be big and bold but it’s obvious that Luke likes slow things. And Ashton really likes Luke. So he can do his best to do slow, for him.

He lifts his head then and shifts some to allow his hand to stay pressed against Luke’s but moves to rest his head against the fluffy arm of the sofa on his left. It’s still pretty early but Ashton suddenly feels so sleepy. He’s silently debating with himself about whether or not the exhaustion is due to his racing mind or the cluster of butterflies still flying between his head and his heart when he lets his eyes drift shut.

(It’s about twenty minutes later that Luke carefully slides a pillow under Ashton’s head and drapes a blanket over him, knowing he’s prone to getting cold during the night. He quietly moves about to slip his boots back on and leave his empty mug in the sink. He considers going back to the bedroom to change into one of the shirts he knows actually belongs to him in Ashton’s closet before heading out. But then he catches a whiff of the other boy’s sunshiney, bright cologne on the collar and thinks about the look in Ashton’s eye when he saw Luke walk out of the closet in it earlier and decides he can’t bear to part with it tonight - the hoodie of course, not the way he felt from that look. Definitely not the look.)

*

[ikevamp-shrine]

It’s a match up baby

Hello there, I hope that you've had a great day 😊 I saw that you were opening match-ups and i'm really excited uwu 🥰😍 so here's like ask 1/? because i've too much info lol, hopefully not too tmi. I'm a female on the libra-scorpio cusp and a Slytherin, I used to be an ENFP but now I'm an INFP. Appearance-wise, I'm 5'2, i've brown eyes and caramel brown hair. I also wear glasses and I'm also quite tanned from being out in the sun all the time...

Thank you @i-sleep-like-napoleon​ for requesting. I hope you enjoy it and have a good day.

I MATCH YOU WITH...

Le Comte Saint German

He has always had an attraction to exotic and beautiful items, people included, so when he saw your adorably cute height, tanned skin, carmel hair, and your brown eyes that were covered by glasses that seemed to enhance your beauty... well let’s just say he didn’t sleep all that soundly that night. (His pants were too tight lol)

He would enjoy how enthusiastic and interested you were in history and science and this thing called anime he happened to learn about through Sebastian

and if you happened to go into a ramble about what you loved he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from melting inside

He would find your ambitions and competitiveness refreshing

after all he happens to be competitive too, though in a more controlled way, and finds competing with you quite fun

Comte doesn’t exactly like how you would sometimes place unrealistic expectations on yourself, leaving you mentally exhausted and stressed, but he has always found those who push themselves inspiring

So basically he’ll scold and support you all at once

He loves your openness, and doesn’t mind going fast at all- at all.

He would find your possiveness incredibly sexy- I mean he has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop him from pushing you up against a wall and... is it getting hot in here or is it just me?🥵

Good news! Your involuntary intimidation causes you and Comte to look like the best power couple, like people can’t help but watch you two walk past from the power that radiates off you two

You don’t have to worry about being awkward when he is around I mean he is the perfect gentleman so he knows how to get you out of a situation you don’t want to be in

When you start acting wild he just stands off to the side and smiles at you like a proud mother would stare at their devil child

He finds your sensitivity towards others and giving nature endearing but he always has the small fear that someone will take advantage of your kindness

He agrees with your taste in music and you two tend to sit outside and listen to Mozart’s music drift down from the window- you, of course, are drinking coffee and he is drinking tea while the butterflies and gentle breeze floats around the two of you

Comte is very good at reading people so when he notices you are starting to feel insecure or think you are worth less than any other person he won’t hesitate to grab you and cuddle you on the bed, whispering gently in how beautiful you are and how much you have changed his long, never ending life

and of course he would kiss every part of your body and say how much he loves you

He would want you to be comfortable so he would hire the best tailor (is that who made clothes?) in town and pay them to make clothes suited to your wants and likes but when you do get all dolled up -especially in something he picked out- he gets butterflies in his stomach

Don’t get me wrong he adores the comfortable, tomboy look you sport mostly each day but there is still something about seeing a person change their appearance completely and put more effort into how they look that makes Comte so proud and turned on

He would have to agree with you that you... well.. aren’t the most gifted when it comes to singing or playing the piano but you best believe this man will be the first to support you, cheer you on, and clap with pride

He would think your passion, curiosity, and protectiveness is so freaking attractive

He would be a little on the fence about your pushy side, mainly because he has certain secrets and past experiences he wouldn’t want you to know about and he would absolutely hate himself for fibbing to you.

Though he does truly appreciate how you know when to stop.

Thankfully Comte wouldn’t be too into PDA also because he believes that affection towards your lover in a romantic way should be saved for the bedroom but he wouldn’t mind stitching it up on you every once in a while and leave you a trembling, begging mess in public

He would hate that you have trust issues and wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about how much he wants to hurt the people who hurt you-badly- and because he knows the feeling and knows how much it hurts to feel like you aren’t good enough or feel like you can’t trust someone just because someone from your past screwed up

He will constantly, lightly, scold you for forgetting to eat all while setting a plate of warm food in front of you and kissing your forehead

If you even think about sassing him... don’t... just don’t

He feels like he will lose control and ruin you when you snap back at him because he finds it so... exciting

Same thing with your fiesty moments

Um sassy, fiesty, but still caring, and giving woman- check please

All he can do when you’re being dramatic is laugh and shake hi s head

He wouldn’t push you to talk about your emotions but he would still try to explain to you that he is there if you ever need him and that bottling up your emotions is not exactly the healthiest thing

And he would know from personal experience

don't really think before you speak or act and it makes you come off as a rude or unfeeling? No problem, Comte knows how to swoop in and save you each time

You and him would constantly eat sweets together while drinking your respective drinks

He wouldn’t hesitate to hold you close while watching a horror movie (if y’all were in the future)

Comte would absolutely take advantage of your hopeless romantic side

Gifts, treats, dates, small gestures, words of love, brushing his hand against your’s as you two pass he would do every trick in the book just to see you smile or blush

When you tell him about your knee he would immediately get down on his own and kiss your knee to make it ‘better’

Later he would talk to Arthur to figure out a way to help the pain

Comte might have baby proofed the mansion just for you when he found out how truly injury-prone and clumsy you are

He hates seeing you hurt so every time he would see bruises or small scars he would feel like the worst partner ever

You like sneakers? Fantastic. Comte likes buying things if you couldn’t tell already.

Once you told him you were bad at math and physics (if you wanted to get better) he would ask Isaac to teach you but tell him not go too hard or be too strict cause like you know, you’re his baby lol

OTHER MATCHES INCLUDE:...

Leonardo da Vinci or Vincent Van Gogh

I couldn’t really think of another match beside Comte but I think Leonardo would be able to keep up with your quirks and passions and would find your giving, caring, and fiesty personality interesting. He would also help teach you anything you would want to know. I also thought you would go well with Vincent. His gentle aura would mix perfectly with your feistiness. (Opposites attract) Your giving nature would make him blush and your possivness would remind Vincent of his brother so he would find your presence comforting. 

MASTER LIST

[bearfeathers]

For the Fanfiction Trope MASH-UP: pregnancy au + time travel + kylux 🥺🥺🥺 (i would be very grateful if there’s mpreg kylo cause im a sucker for that trope, and if you don’t like mpreg it’s fine but i still want to hear about your time travel au :D)

(So, I don’t really do mpreg. There is a child in this, but I just chalk her up to some Kaminoan something or other LOL. Also this turned out WAY fucking longer than I intended it to. Also also: Hux’s mum deserves a fucking name, goddammit.)

Read on AO3

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Lying on the cot in his cell, Ben listens to the storm raging outside. Hux had once told him about his first few years on Arkanis—how it rained and stormed nearly at all times. He had only seen one sunrise there, he’d said, but never a sunset.

Now he never will.

Ben tries not to dwell on how long the general’s corpse had sat in the medbay before the ship was inevitability brought down in that great, final battle. Pryde had been a mistake. He would say he didn’t know what he was thinking by appointing him Allegiant General, but that’s not true; he’d wished to embarrass Hux. To put him in his place.

Petty foolishness. That’s what it was. He can see that now. Of course, he hadn’t planned on the arrangement lasting forever. He’d thought he could reign Hux in a little after he’d pulled a blaster on him as he’d laid unconscious on the floor of the Supreme Leader's throne room. It was only fair, he’d reasoned. And once Hux had been properly punished… then he would extend the offer to rule beside him.

There had been a time when they had gotten along. It feels as though it had happened in some other lifetime, but it had happened. Deep down, despite the way they fought for Snoke’s favor, he had hoped they could return to that time one day. Hux wanted it, too. Ben had sensed it from him. But pride kept them apart, only allowing them close enough to be at each other’s necks.

But he can change all of that. Or… he can try at least.

Time travel is an ability rarely spoken of in Jedi texts, though Luke had discussed the theory with him on several occasions. There haven’t been any recorded instances of time travel in thousands of years, and even those that had been recorded were suspect, to say the least. Still, Ben has been practicing every day since they had put him in this cell. It’s not as though trying will hurt—he can’t escape his past as Kylo Ren and he has no future here.

But something about this storm, something about the way the Force flows around him tonight… he feels confident.

As he closes his eyes, the world around him slowly fades. He knows not what awaits him, whether he will be successful or simply fall deep into a slumber he never wakes from, but he welcomes oblivion with open arms.

 Ben chokes on air and rain, the coppery tang of blood on his tongue as he feels it gushing from his nose. The ground is muddy beneath his hands as he struggles to push himself upright. All around him, people are running and screaming, only adding to the dizzying buzz in his head.

But he knows he’s done it. He’s exactly where and when he’d planned to be. Well… perhaps not exactly. He doesn’t actually know where Hux is, as he’s relying on memories that aren’t his own but rather something whispered to him in confidence years and years and years ago. Trying to reach through the Force to locate him brings a searing pain to his head and he staggers against a shop wall to keep himself upright. Alright, so he’d overdone it with the time traveling, clearly. The thought sounds ridiculous even as he thinks it­—of course the fucking time travel had overdone it, fuck’s sake. In any case, means he’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way.

Grabbing the arm of a fleeing resident, he asks, “Can you tell me where Hux manor is?”

The man looks at him as though he’s insane. But muddy, bloody, and drenched, perhaps that’s what Ben looks like.

“I don’t know, maybe the enormous kriffing building up on the hill?” the man answers him sarcastically.

He yanks himself free of Ben’s grip, cursing him and calling him a lunatic before taking up where he’d left off in getting the hell out of town. Ben sighs wearily, seeing the distance spread out before him. But he’s not going to get any closer sitting here and bemoaning his situation, so he sets off, trudging through the wet streets and onto grass that he can’t believe hasn’t drowned with how much it rains here.

Unfortunately, that’s where things stop being easy. As it turns out, walking up a hill in the pouring rain is actually rather difficult. On hands and knees, clawing his way to the top and slipping more than his fair share, Ben has to wonder what this is all for. He knows why he’s doing it, but he doesn’t know what the end result will be. Assuming he does what he came here to, what happens then? Does he change the future? Does he create an alternate reality? Does he even return to where he’d been or does he merely cease to be?

It’s in the midst of these musings that Ben becomes aware of the fact that he’s being followed. Of course, he’s not fool enough to turn around and find out who it is, but he doesn’t feel he really needs to anyway. He can sense their presence easily and finds it to be… oddly familiar. He just can’t put his finger on why that is. Regardless, the presence is soft and non-threatening in its nature in a way that reminds him of Leia. It’s motherly, he realizes. That’s how it feels.

The person it belongs to means him no harm and so he puts them far from his mind for the time being. He has much greater things to concern himself with.

It feels like eons before Ben pants on hands and knees atop the hill. The grit seems permanently wedged beneath his split and bleeding fingernails, but even the dull throb of pain feels somehow detached from him. As though it belongs to someone else. As though it belongs to this body, but not Ben himself. Ben is merely occupying it for the time being.

“What the fuck does that even mean,” he asks himself, hoisting himself up onto his feet with a pained grunt. “You’re losing it. Or you’ve lost it. Either way, you’re standing here talking to yourself like an imbecile.”

It sounds ridiculous, talking to himself like this, but it feels like the only thing keeping him grounded. Like a balloon in a child’s grasp, mere moments from floating away, held in place at the will of a pudgy hand gripping its ribbon. Ben finds himself moving forward, his steps heavy and leaden, sloshing through the sluice of dirty water that has risen amidst this unholy downpour.

He is weary. Beyond weary. The thought of being bone dry and warm, somewhere soft and safe, causes his steps to falter. He could stop to rest, just for a moment … but no. No, he came here with a purpose. And he doesn’t know how long he has to see it through.

As he looks up, the Hux estate looms before him, dark and imposing in its architecture, as cold and unwelcoming as he had pictured it to be. Ben can almost imagine Hux growing up here—it would certainly explain a few facets of his personality. But it’s no place for a child. He knows that. No child should have to call this prison their home.

Shouting draws him away from his thoughts, loud enough to be heard even above the storm. He moves along the wall, hurrying towards the sound of voices in the hopes that his search may have come to an end.

There is a large man dragging a flailing child out towards a ship, both of them screaming. The shock of red hair on both their heads is a dead giveaway. It had always made Hux stand out to him, a bright beacon amidst the darkness of space and the First Order’s fleet. Hux would hate to hear him say it, he’s sure. But now isn’t the time for idle thoughts. He isn’t sure exactly how he plans to act right up until the moment he sees the man reel back to strike the child.

By that point it feels more like the will of the Force than will of his own as it surges through him, lifting the elder Hux off his feet and slamming into the ship's paneling. He falls to the ground in a crumpled heap and does not move. Ben feels a sudden tidal wave of nausea and grabs hold of the building’s wall as he retches violently. His mouth tastes of blood and bile and his head swims.

He wants to sleep. He wants so terribly to sleep. He’s tired and cold and he aches, but he’s not finished here. Not until he’s sure Hux is safe. The child doesn’t move from where he’d fallen to the ground after his father had been violently ripped away from him. He watches as Ben draws near, mouth agape and shaking in the heavy rain—from cold or fear, Ben isn’t sure. Likely both. Eyes the color of spearmint leaves stare back at him, wide and round in his small, pale face.

And he’s small, Ben realizes. So small. Hux was never a large man, not like his father, but Ben had never quite pictured him to have been so… fragile looking. Like a baby bird. Stunted and runt-like.

“It’s okay,” Ben says, raising his hands peaceably. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

The boy shakes his head, doing his best to scuttle backwards and away from Ben. Waves of fear assault Ben’s senses, so overwhelming in its nature that he nearly losing his footing once more. Hux has always been a torrent of thoughts and emotion within a cold, unfeeling wrapping but this bald terror is new to Ben. Such a show of emotion would no doubt mortify the general were he to know Ben had ever been witness to it.

“Armitage!”

The cry startles him as someone comes hurtling from behind him. The presence he had felt earlier following him up the hill rushes past him and towards the frightened boy.

“Mother!” he hiccups.

Mother.

Of course.

Hux’s mother. The kitchen woman. It’s why her presence had felt familiar—because some part of Hux came from her. The part that the elder Hux had never quite been able to fully beat out of him. Ben stands back and watches the woman cradle the boy in her arms and as he does, he realizes her hair is red as well. Hux’s hair was not the rusty red of his father’s but rather the fiery red of his mother’s. The longer he looks, the more Ben realizes that the elder Hux’s hatred of his son were for many more reasons than first glance might supply.

He startles when the woman rises from the mud, clutching the boy to her breast as she approaches him. Even in the rain, Ben can see the tears in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she says earnestly. “I don’t know who you are or where you’ve come from—”

“You don’t need to,” Ben says, waving a hand absently.

The woman nods, holding her son closer. The boy’s arms wrap tightly around her neck, his face pressed to her chest and away from Ben’s sight.

“You should go east of here. The Resis—the New Republic will take you both in,” Ben instructs her. “They’ll take you away from here, they’ll take you somewhere safe.”

“Yes, I know,” the woman says, fruitlessly attempting to dry her eyes. “I just couldn’t leave without… without trying. I was afraid I would be too late.”

“Well…” Ben says haltingly. “You’re not. Be thankful for that.”

“I am,” the woman assures him. Her green eyes convey a gratitude that she isn’t sure she can properly express, but Ben feels it, powerful and warm that cuts through even the piercing chill of the air around them. “Thank you, Mister…?”

Ben isn’t sure how to answer that. He has had many names, none of which feel suitable to this moment. But then… perhaps one is. Perhaps this is a chance for his name to be used in penance. He had worn it as a cloak to his darkness, his cruelty, his selfishness. Now, he offers it upon the metaphorical altar before him.

“It’s Ren,” he tells her. “Just… Just Ren.”

“Mister Ren,” the woman says, nodding to herself as though to commit it to memory. “My name is Palla Myn. On behalf of my son, you have my gratitude. If there is anything I might do—”

“That’s not necessary,” Ben says. He waves a hand slowly before her face. “You will go to the New Republic troops and you will forget my face.”

Her eyes glaze over as she echoes his words and turns to leave once more. He watches her as she reaches the slope of the hill and continues watching until her form has disappeared entirely. Only once she has gone does he allow his exhaustion to take over and he falls back upon his rear with a loud splash. He drags himself just far enough to rest his back against the side of the estate wall, but knows he is capable of nothing more.

Ben is tired. And now, with his work done, he can sleep. Forever, he thinks. Perhaps it will be forever. Perhaps it is done now. And as his heavy eyelids drift closed, he thinks that might just be alright.

“Daddy! Take me with you to the temple!”

Ben wheezes as a heavy weight drops on top of him, jarring him from his sleep.

“Padmé, let your father wake up please.”

Blearily, Ben blinks his eyes, which seem to take eons to clear. But when they do, he’s greeted to the sight of Hux picking a small, red-headed child off of his chest and setting her on the ground beside the bed. With a sort of dumb fascination, Ben watches as a man he has known only to be cruel and ruthless gently pat the child’s head.

“You’ll spend plenty of time in the temple when you’re of age,” Hux informs her. “Now, go see that your things are packed. You don’t want to keep Poe waiting.”

Poe. Poe Dameron, he means. And father…? Him? Ben sits up slowly, his head foggy and his body heavy. The bed he’s sitting in is large, built for two, and the room is bright and sunny. He feels immensely stupid as he gazes about him, wondering where—and when—the hell he is.

“Ben? Are you alright?”

His gaze returns to Hux, who watches him with a concerned frown.

“Hux,” he says, his voice rough.

“Solo,” Hux snorts with a smirk. “Are we doing last names now? I thought you dropped that habit at the altar.”

“Altar,” Ben echoes dumbly.

He looks down to his hands and finds a slim, inconspicuous band around his left ring finger. When he manages to look back up, he finds a matching band around Hux’s. This is a dream. Some kind of fantasy that the last of his firing neurons has conjured up as he eases into death. Suddenly there’s a weight on the bed beside him and Hux is sitting beside him. Ben watches with open astonishment as the general—is he still a general here?—reaches up and presses his hand to Ben’s cheek, his thumb brushing gently along his cheek.

They have had a bond through the Force since nearly the moment they had met. But it’s never been like what Ben feels now. It’s so strong, so all-consuming that he could drown in it. Hux’s wild emotions are distilled into things Ben had never even dreamt he might feel from him—affection, devotion, admiration, concern. Love. Such ardent love that Ben’s eyes begin to sting at the mere thought of it.

“You don’t seem well today,” Hux says quietly. “Perhaps you’re coming down with something… Why don’t I send word to Luke that you won’t be well enough to join him? I’m sure he and Tak can handle the younglings without you for one day.”

Ben nods slowly. Luke. Tak. Temple. Younglings. His mind is whirling with questions chasing questions, but for the moment… He reaches out, wrapping a hand around Hux’s wrist. He’s afraid that this will disappear the moment he lets his guard down.

“Could you… stay? With me?” Ben asks hesitantly. “Please.”

He feels a lump rise in his throat as Hux’s face pulls into the gentlest, most earnest smile he’s ever seen. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful, glowing and healthy in a way Ben had never seen him before.

“Of course.”

Ben doesn’t know if he deserves this, whatever this is. But as he pulls Hux close and listens to the redhead murmur quietly about his mother inviting them for dinner this weekend, Ben decides it’s a question that can wait until later.

[iamtaran]

Notes on episode one

Sometimes when you’re feverish and hopped up on Niquil you just gotta rewatch the Witcher and type out your feelings in the notes app on your phone. “Writing down things I noticed” quickly became “writing more meta”, so! A look at how Geralt is different in this episode, and his relationship with Renfri the Shrike, Witcher dogma, and choice.

(in my defense i tried to keep things short by writing in bullet points but lol that’s cute)

-Geralt is so much softer in this episode. He is more open. He is by no means chatty or friendly, but he wears neutrality well. It’s obvious he expects people to treat him badly and turn him away just as much (or more) than he expects cooperation, and he is willing and able to accept either. He is a man doing a job. He asks for the alderman’s house, is inoffensive and neutral when the man chases off the helpful barmaid and tries to turn away. He tries to de-escalate— just tell me where it is and I’ll go. When that still doesn’t work and they threaten him, leave or on the end of the rope, he rolls with it, even jokes, “not a hard choice.” He isn’t angry, doesn’t even seem more than slightly annoyed, really. He’ll go. He had been open to the possibility of things working, and to the possibility that they might not, so he takes the hand dealt. This Geralt is so different to the one we see in future episodes, who is much more jaded, cynical, even bitter. He’s not quite as able to meet people with that same neutrality.

-This Geralt is much more ready to accept the outstretched hand. He jokes in this episode. Look at his first interaction with Renfri when she helps him. He is slightly wary, but accepts the beer she buys him with curiosity. At her self-deprecating mention of a horrified mother, he jokes, “Our secret, then.” Earlier in the episode, there’s his humor and scorn for Stregobor, “All the good predictions rhyme.” He listened to all Stregobor’s bullshit with neutrality, likely trained as Witcher’s are to hear out people even when the job isn’t one a Witcher does. He doesn’t pander; he is straightforward, but also not purposefully offensive or aggressive until it is deserved. Even then, he works to remain even tempered— his greater and lesser evil speech, his blandly delivered disdain for Stregobor’s admissions of kidnapping and killing innocent women. His emotions break through now and then, but he gets them back in check. He keeps his distance.  But the humor. We see Geralt’s sense of humor in later episodes as well (“these views” to Triss comes to mind) but it is so much more freely given in this episode. Or it’s less surprising compared to his more open stance. He is utterly charmed by Marilka, he enjoys the back and forth with Renfri, he smirks when they cross verbal blades over what it means to be a monster and she tries to get a rise out of him. He is amused when she posits “what is they come after you?” Because for him that’s a given; that’s part of the Witcher job description! Of course people fear the mutant warriors. Of course he gets chased away, turned away. Of course they have come after him, and he was trained to be ready for that eventuality and to accept it like any other part of the job, not with violence and resentment but with a shrug and then to move on. So much of what changes between episode 1 Geralt, who is maybe in his mid forties, and later Geralt, in his 50s-80s, is that he is not as readily able to keep that neutrality in him. He is not able to keep his carefully trained emotional distance, no matter how badly he wants to or how well he puts up the front. He has become jaded to the fear, the hate, the misunderstanding. (And it goes the other way, too, with softer emotions. He is definitely not keeping his distance when he fights to be allowed the save the Striga princess, when eh tries to gift Renfri’s brooch to her, for instance.) And a lot of it starts here, in Blaviken, where Geralt saved the innocent citizens of the market by killing a woman he had in fact liked and understood to an extent— and still he gets a stoning for it.

-Geralt just all around feels younger here. When do Witcher’s first leave Kaer Morhen to walk the Path? 18? 20? 22? The way he describes his first monster to Roach and the line “Yeah... I thought the world needed me, too;” I can definitely believe he was that young. (Imagine 18-20 year old Henri Cavill as Geralt. Imagine, I dare you. It’s darling.) So he’s been on the Path for 20, 25 years maybe. Wandering with his horse, seeing much of the continent for the first time, taking jobs and facing down monsters, many of those for the first time, too. A heavily trained young man who had been prepared for a hostile world, for monsters and money, to live a job and take what is given. Witcher training is quite practical and unromantic when it comes to how they are trained to view and interact with the world. But it is still a romantic version of young Geralt we find in his tale. So ready to save a young woman, hotheaded and with messy strikes against a mere human when the Geralt we know is shown as nothing less than controlled and precise. The quite unromantic response of the rescued pokes fun at himself, completed with his self deprecating jibe, “yeah. I thought the world needed me, too.” Grown up from his first days on the Path, this Geralt is still young, comparatively. Before the episode is done we see him grow up a bit more. Also, just the way he interacts with Marilka rings so much like an older brother. That little smirk!

-So Geralt is younger, less jaded, more open. He is also more vulnerable, or at least he reads that way. Rewatch that kiss and tell me that their closeup doesn’t frame Renfri as the initiator and Geralt as the vulnerable, soft-eyed receiver.

-dang it, he just likes Renfri. Almost immediately. Maybe two lines into their dialogue and his wariness fades. Renfri is young, but she burns brightly. She is fierce and firm in her handling of the situation and her men, wry and a little sardonic, she isn’t afraid of him and even teases him— shouldn’t have taken the back roads, should buy some new clothes. Then she draws closer and flirts as she pours him another beer when the barman refuses to serve them both. (And that line before Marilka interrupts, along the lines of “Seems everywhere I go I find more and more monsters these days,” its so obvious she was about to broach the topic of Stregobor with him. Or is that just me?) In the woods, her presence doesn’t alarm him when she approaches. He lets her keep his back, even knowing what Stregobor had told him. He goes back and forth with her on the matter of monsters and one’s own actions— which, phew, the commentary that gives on Witchers. An inherent conundrum of being taught that they, mutants, are inherently monstrous compared to humans yet must in their line of work, as traditionally neutral parties, remain neutral or risk acting the part of the monster. Their strength should not be turned against anything that is not a monster and a danger or it risks becoming monstrous, being used to monstrous purpose. “Great power, great responsibility.” Regardless, he enjoys going back and forth with her. He liked her fierceness, respects it, sympathizes with her and views her as the wronged party in the affair with Stregobor. Yet still he tells her, the responsibility is hers to walk away from the violence. Go live your life. A truly Witcher response. He doesn’t stop her following him to his camp. He doesn’t even stand when she floats in on his heels, lets her sit with him, listens when she speaks. He seems pleased when she admits that she will be leaving, receptive. Look at how his face softens when she speaks of her mother. Remember, this is the young man whose mother abandoned him at the foot of Kaer Morhen. It’s still raw all this time later, and will be a few decades on, as we see when he confronts her hallucination/vision. Geralt understands at least part of Renfri on a terribly personal level. He turns and lets her kiss him, not the other way around. Of course, she lied. He dreams, or hears from within his dream, her prophecy. I’m not completely clear as to whether the show meant to imply that she used some kind of magical ability to put him to sleep, and if inside that spell her inadvertent prophecy came through. Regardless, he is beyond grim when he goes to town to stop her, and I do believe his expression when given the ultimatum by her men is very speakingful. If not enough for you, however, then of course there is his quiet, resigned, disgusted, “Fuck.” But a Witcher accepts what comes from humans, good or ill. They walk away from attacks and hostility when they can, but defend themselves when needs must, and here it does. But that’s the catch, see. When he decided to come into town, Geralt wasn’t following his Witcher training. Think of what he told Stregobor— it wasn’t his problem, Witchers don’t deal in human affairs, and Geralt himself prefers not to choose at all when faced with lesser, greater, middling evil. He would rather be the true neutral. But he likes Renfri, empathizes with her even as he disdains and dislikes Stregobor. Geralt is the kind of man who was a young hothead bent on saving the world one young woman at a time. He likes bold, impetuous children and horses. His base instinct is to protect people and to side with the victims— we see its suggestion in this episode, and it is realized in full during the season. He isn’t neutral, as much as he wants to be. So he chooses, and hates himself for it, because he will never know if he was right. (And it doesn’t matter if he was right. Because right or wrong, killing Renfri wounded him and he carries it for decades.) It reinforces his belief that it is better not to choose at all. He was wrong to have chosen. He believes he should have walked away, let human affairs fall as they may, and yet we the audience know he will never be able to walk away from a massacre, do nothing, and still remain himself.

-Stregobor is the worst and that’s all I have to say about that.

-Renfri’s stepmother was 100% a lying turd and I will bet hard cash on that. “Yes her step mother told me she did this awful stuff, proving the mutation i had already decided existed anyway. Obviously she wanted to protect her own children so she hired me.” Are you???? Fuckin kidding me dude???? “Beep boop good thing there are no cautionary tales about jealous or cruel step mothers who hate their royal step children. Good thing no one would ever want to nerf said royal step children to open up the royal throne to their own get by, say, telling some teeny weeny lies to a gullible sorcerer who drinks his own koolaid” I s2g

-OH oh I almost forgot, one more thing. Just. One more. Fucking. All of Henry Cavill’s acting in the final scene and fight with Renfri. That hurts, sir. Every look and expression screams how badly he does not want to do this. I’ve said it before in another meta (and, like, in countless tags) but the terrible, breathless vulnerability and dread in Geralt’s face when Renfri reveals herself and her hostage? How slowly and carefully he draws closer, sword turned down and away, free hand open and soothing, as he tries to convince her to stop? Tries to use axii on her, and the softness of his voice, the clench in his jaw that says even as he seems to plead and beg with his eyes for her to stop that he is preparing for what will happen if (when) she won’t and despises every moment of it? It’s like the culmination of the audience’s introduction to What A Witcher Is (or perhaps better, What A Witcher Does). We see it throughout the episode. What a Witcher is, is neutral. They take what they are given. What they do is their job and nothing more. They kill dangerous monsters that threaten others and themselves. With humans, they defend themselves when necessary and that is all; necessity. There is no choice, it is simply what a Witcher does in a world where they know that sometimes the worst reaction a person can have doesn’t stop with angry words and threats. It is just another part of the life. They will back out, they will leave, they will sleep in the woods when they know they’re not welcome. They don’t push. They have been trained to avoid fighting humans wherever possible. They are not the aggressors, when blows come to blows. It is not what they do. Renfri cannot stop. Geralt must know this, after the intensity of their conversation in the woods. It is not Geralt the Witcher who made the decision to follow her to town; the Witcher would have left. Geralt the man, well, we know what he would do because we see it. When Renfri attacks him, however, he reacts as a Witcher does. As he did against her men. Controlled, precise, eliminating the threat. No cruelty or hatred. Just training. -Unlike his fight against the men, which is largely one long, smoothe dance, the fight against Renfri is riddled with pauses, stalemates where they lock eyes and we are shown closeups of their silent, intense exchanges. Neither wants to be there, but neither is willing to back down. -In my last meta I mentioned how Geralt clearly had the upper hand throughout their fight and doesn’t utilize multiple chances to finish the fight and critically injure Renfri. He instead tries to de-escalate-- strikes out with a slap, pins her, parries, defends, disarms her. These pauses in the fight for their eyes to meet and the little moments of silent communication seem an extension of this. More so, if I’m going to work with the Geralt the man vs. Geralt the Witcher dichotomy, then I would say these moments are Geralt the man breaking through. Communicating how he can’t let her go through with her plan. Begging her to reconsider, to walk away. Frustration, dread, a nonverbal don’t do this and don’t make me do this. Especially that last closeup. With Witcher efficiency and neutrality, he reacts to her final attack by turning her dagger back on her and sinking it neatly into her throat. Threat eliminated. Save... they both react with a long pause of breathless shock, before he wrenches it back out and she begins to bleed. There is a final close up from over her shoulder, her hair half obscuring Geralt’s face as he gazes presumably into her eyes, as he brings one hand up to her cheek— Geralt without speaking makes very clear how much pain he is in. He does what a Witcher does, but even as his hands did the work he is himself a gutted man. Regret. Pain. Love, of a sorts, whatever love can grow for someone you’ve known in such a short time yet felt such empathy and enjoyment and appreciation for. That is the young Geralt we saw, vulnerable and open and humorous, and this is where he ends. Look at his face as he leaves Blaviken. Geralt has become who we will follow for the rest of the season. -(If you look, really look, Marilka is not angry when she tells him to get out of Blaviken and never come back. Her eyes are soft, and sad. She is a clever little girl in a village too small, who knows the people there better than Geralt, and who knows he will never get more than a stoning. Maybe Geralt would have fought Stregobor for Renfri, maybe not. But Marilka tells him to leave, and he does.)

[artificialqueens]

just let me adore you (branjie) - holtzmanns

(read on ao3) | (tumblr: plastiquetiaras) | word count: 4136

AN: Haven’t written a boy fic like this one in a while, too caught up in all the lesbian aus. Thank you writ and barbie for helping me with this and making me laugh my head off while writing it. Hope you enjoy it, and let me know what you think if you want to! Title from ‘Adore You’ by Harry Styles. Thank you writ for betaing <3

Brock’s new LA apartment, despite being half the size of his Nashville place, feels bigger. Emptier.

Maybe it’s all the boxes he hasn’t gotten around to unpacking. Maybe it’s the way his cats are still nestled in their kennels despite the opened doors, too afraid to leave the fleece blankets and explore their new home. Or maybe it’s the fact that even though he’s spent a lot of time in LA, he’s always had somewhere else to go back to. Somewhere else that’s considered ‘home’.

Except now, LA is his home. Or it will be, eventually, once he gets used to it.

The move makes sense, career wise, because being anchored to Nashville when he’s outgrown it isn’t logical anymore. It’s a city of too many bachelorette parties at his home bar and way too much country songs playing on the radio, and the subtle southern twang in everyone’s voice that he’s been afraid of accidentally adopting himself, these last few years.

LA is where his booking manager is based out of. LA is where he can make stronger connections that’ll help catapult his career in the direction that it deserves to be in. LA is warm - as warm as Nashville, yes, but now he’ll have regular access to the beach, a chance to let his curls get wilder than usual in the ocean air, and to let his skin get a sunkissed glow, provided that he won’t burn to a crisp first.

Brock doesn’t have any connections left in Nashville anymore, either. Most of his friends have moved on to bigger things, left the city that had kept them in touch in the past. His family isn’t in Nashville, and neither is his work. But LA has many fellow queens and some friends, too, and even some distant cousins and-

Jose.

Brock hasn’t told Jose about the move. They haven’t really been talking much, and it makes sense that they’re growing apart, no longer tied down by NDAs and keeping up a storyline or by having to share a tour bus. It’s given them space to breathe, yes, but it also feels strange, no matter how freeing it is.

Brock doesn’t get a morning text when he wakes up anymore, texts that used to be filled with so many nonsensical emojis that he would have no idea where Jose even found them. But then again, Brock doesn’t send any himself, either. He and Jose don’t have their late night phone calls or facetimes that they used to when they’d miss each other just a little bit too much, and it’s not out of the ordinary, the fact that they’ve drifted. Because it’s been awhile, and the rubber band that had tied them together has snapped. They’re free floating, and apparently the paths drawn by their newfound ability to move aren’t meant to cross with one another.

Why would they? When they both travel, they both are free to involve themselves with other people, and they used to be based in different cities. Except that they’re not anymore.

They have the same home base now, because Jose lives in LA too.

Brock thinks back to a year and a half ago, when they were sprawled on Jose’s couch in his apartment and Jose had been poking his shoulder, trying to convince him to move to LA. Saying that it would be a good career move, and why was he still in Nashville, anyway?

Back then, things had been so fresh and new. They’d finished filming Drag Race, and their season wouldn’t air until the next year. Being able to wrap his arms around Jose, hold him close without any cameramen trying to capture the moment had been thrilling, almost freeing, even. But it had felt too soon. Too soon to leave Nashville because it still had been his home.

But now? It’s not Brock’s home anymore. Not when being able to perform, to do what he loves to do and dance every night gives him that same feeling of comfort, of security, that his bed in Nashville used to provide. The fact that he’s in control, the fact that he doesn’t have to be tied down to a certain place, but rather just needs that feeling of satisfaction in his heart to feel like he’s complete.

Brock wonders what the Jose from a year and a half ago would think. He wonders what Jose will think now.

He debates on whether he should tell Jose. Let him know. Do exes do that? Let each other know that they’ll be in the neighbourhood for the foreseeable future? A warning of sorts, or maybe a homecoming?

Brock’s not sure which one it’ll be, which one he even wants it to be.

The clock on his oven is reading 11:00 pm and he’s tired, way too tired to unpack much more than some of the clothes and toiletries and silverware and plates he’d gotten to taking out earlier, stuff he’ll need sooner than later. Everything else can wait for the morning daybreak, when the flashing lights of the cars outside are replaced with the LA sun that burns just a little too bright for his night loving eyes.

It would be too late to bother Jose, anyway, if they were in any other profession. Except all of their work is done in the evenings and nights, when the lighting is just a little bit more forgiving on their harsh makeup and the loud beats of the music are socially acceptable. Still, texting Jose to say that he’s in town feels a little bit strange, a little bit presumptuous.

He’s going to pull a Gatsby instead. Hope that Jose gets the message.

Instagram story posted by @bhytes. A panning shot of an empty apartment, stacked high with boxes against the walls and two kennels with open doors, one which has a grey tail sticking out of it. Location: Los Angeles.

It doesn’t take long until Brock’s phone lights up with an Instagram direct message notification. He’d fiddled with his settings to have most notifications turned off, his account too bustling to handle the onslaught of fan comments and messages and likes. Most of them, that is, except for his close friends, his family members, and Jose.

He’d never gotten around to turning Jose’s notifications off after they’d broken up, not when he dives for his phone the same way that he used to, back then.

vanessavanjie: LA huh

vanessavanjie: ur ass finally listened to me

vanessavanjie: all those boxes, ur ass just get here or what

bhytes: something like that

bhytes: drove over yesterday with everything, finally free of the u-haul

vanessavanjie: damn i thought it was only lesbians who u-hauled lol

bhytes: you around LA these days?

vanessavanjie: i see u watching my stories bitch u already know

bhytes: fair

vanessavanjie: u tired of unpacking everything or what

bhytes: a little, honestly

vanessavanjie: come out

vanessavanjie: can’t be a hermit already before ur even properly moved in

Brock doesn’t know why he says yes. Maybe, just maybe, in the back of his mind he does, because the lack of inhibitions from some alcohol and loud music creates the perfect setting in which to see Jose in again, after months and months of only seeing his face behind an Instagram profile. A club setting means no need for the awkward small talk, no conversations about the weather that always happen with people that feel too far away, unreachable, when they used to be close enough to touch.

Jose’s not hard to find. Not by the way he’s yelling up a storm in the corner of the club with a drink in each hand, surrounded by fellow queens and dancers and spinning in place as if no one’s watching him. And it’s true, no one really is, too busy wrapped up in their own conversations and dance moves.

Except for Brock, because Jose’s like a magnet, one that grabs his sight from far away and refuses to let him go and be free from his pull. Brock can’t tell if his heart is beating faster and faster because of the deep bass of the music, or because of Jose’s smile that lights up his whole face, one that Brock used to see all the time. He fiddles with his baseball cap as he walks over, because his curls had been too hopeless to be tamed by any amount of pomade.

Not that Jose really cares. He never did, not when Brock used to wear the same sweater for days in a row because he didn’t feel like rifling through his closet, not when Brock couldn’t tell apart Jose’s various outfits even if he tried. Brock’s energy for styling himself is just enough to get himself looking decent in drag. Out of drag? It doesn’t matter much to him.

Doesn’t matter, until Jose spots him and drops his drinks into the hands of those beside him, walking over with a glint in his eyes and a onceover that’s enough to make Brock pull in a breath.

It’s irrelevant that they’re not together, that they’re better off not as a unit. Because there’s something about Jose that’s magnetic and always manages to pull Brock in, makes him want to sidle up to him, close enough that the familiar scent of Jose’s cologne washes over him from head to toe and makes him close his eyes.

“Sleeping already? You on LA time now.” Jose brushes his fingers along Brock’s wrist and it feels like an electric current, one that travels straight to his heart.

“Moving is tiring.” Brock’s a bit distracted as he answers because Jose’s features are still so stunning, so precisely cut, balanced with the delicate flutter of his eyelashes, the soft curve of his mouth.

Jose looks the same as he always does, still as if it’s two in the afternoon and he’s fresh after a nap, rather than taking on the weariness that adorns the features of their colleagues from all of the travelling that comes with the job.

“Ain’t thought about asking me for help? We in the same neighbourhood now.” Jose raises one perfect eyebrow and Brock has to resist the urge to reach out, smooth it over, the way that he always used to.

“Didn’t think your small frame would be able to handle the giant boxes.” Brock grins and the light dig is worth it, because Jose lets out a little yell, swats at his arm, the ice shattering as it always does if they spend more than thirty seconds with each other.

“Forgot what a shady ass bitch you were.” But Jose’s smiling, the kind that reaches his eyes, and Brock knows that he’s not really mad.

Brock catches at Jose’s hand before he lets it drop, turning it over. “Damn. So the tattoo is real, huh?”

He’d had his doubts, because the ink had looked extensive. But Jose’s impulsive, guided by his heart and rash decisions and so it makes sense. The lines are deep within Jose’s skin, pretty patterns along the top of his hand and his wrist and Brock would be mesmerized by it, he would, were it not for the flashing lights of the club making it difficult to clearly see.

“You think I’d play with some Sharpie just for fun?” Jose lets out a scoff as he wiggles his fingers, letting Brooke get a view from all angles.

“I distinctly remember the time on the season eleven tour when you drew a mustache on Silky while she was sleeping, so yes. You’d play with some Sharpie.”

The memory makes Brock grin, remembering the cramped tour bus and the things that the queens would get up to in order to pass the time. It feels like a lifetime ago, one that’s been marred by tours that followed and geographical distance and other flings in between.

“Don’t know if you’d be able to scribble so nicely, though.” Brock flips Jose’s hand over again and Jose pulls it back with a huff, a little pout on his lips.

“I’m a modern day Mother Teresa and invite you out and this is how you treat me. Hateful, truly hateful.” Jose crosses his arms, taps one of his feet and Brock snorts, because it feels like old times. How they always used to act.

“Want me to kiss it better?”

Also how they used to act.

Maybe it’s a good thing that the dance floor is so crowded, that the WeHo gays have come out in full force on a Sunday night. It lets Brock pull Jose flush against him, a hand on the small of his back, without worrying about cameras or anyone else’s opinions. Because right now, the way Jose is looking up at him is all that matters.

Rihanna herself, Jose’s patron saint of music is blaring over the speakers and maybe that’s why Jose’s keening into his touch, losing himself in the music. The heat is radiating off of Jose’s body like a fire, and Brock’s not scared of getting burned anymore because he wants it, nights like this. Because he’s here in LA, and Jose’s here in LA, and there’s no rule that says that it’s bad to hook up with an ex after months and months and months, even though his sober mind likes to pretend that there should be.

Jose’s lips form the familiar pout that Brock knows so well, knows how to answer to. It’s as easy as breathing, kissing Jose. So familiar and right and yet somehow it still makes Brock’s blood pump just a little bit faster, makes his heart skip a beat when Jose whines into his mouth.

Brock ruts his hips forward slightly into Jose as he nips at his lower lip and it makes Jose gasp, open his mouth more as he deepens the kiss. Sure, they’re doing things on the dance floor that would make any good Christian woman weep but Brock doesn’t care, not when Jose’s in his grasp and so pliant and so willing to be there, wanting more and more.

Sue him, he’s missed this. Missed the way he can undo Jose so easily, pulling him apart with a strong touch and lips upon his skin. Not discounting how Brock can feel himself unravelling too, his brain only focusing on Jose and his cologne and his hands tugging on Brock’s belt loops and the way his stubble is gently scratching at his skin.

It’s inevitable, really, when Brock palms at Jose’s crotch, feeling the way he’s already halfway hard in the damn club, not unlike himself. Brock nips at Jose’s jaw before whispering right by his ear, close enough to be heard over the music.

“I’d invite you to mine but my mattress is sitting on the floor. No sheets, either.” Moving is hard, after all. Making a bed takes effort.

“Now ain’t you living like a prince? Mine, then. Reacquaint yourself with that headboard you chose.”

Brock tugs on Jose’s arm in lieu of an answer, already typing in Jose’s address for a Lyft because he still has it memorized, of course he does.

“When did you get that new mirror?”

“That really what you focusing on right now?” Jose tugs Brock’s head back down towards him, his kiss biting, taking, and Brock gives into it, lets himself get reacquainted with Jose’s breathing, his smooth skin along his hipbones when Brock pushes the edges of his shirt up.

“You redecorated, that’s all.” Brock lets Jose push him up against the wall beside the entrance closet, because he gets the feeling that Jose needs this just as much. This bit of release that no one else can even come close to providing, an itch that only the two of them can scratch for each other. The quickies in bathrooms and the rare nights in hotel rooms on tour that were so cathartic, so draining in the best way.

Brock needs it again now; they both do.

He pulls Jose close with fingers in his belt loops, catching the little hitch in Jose’s breath that matches the way his pupils are blown, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“You missed me, huh?” Brock bends down, kissing along Jose’s neck and oh, it’s already starting to bloom in maroons from Brock’s lips at the club. He knows Jose’s going to be pissed later, but he doesn’t care, not really, not when it’s so satisfying to see them there.

“Don’t get cute.” It comes out in a groan, an arch of Jose’s back, a flutter of his eyelids.

But then Jose regains his breathing as his eyes clear, and he’s pushing on Brock’s shoulders until he’s against the wall, like he has an agenda, like he wants to see it through. Jose’s on his tiptoes in his sneakers but Brock’s not going to make it any easier for him by bending down, because he likes it, seeing how bad Jose wants it, needs it, and is willing to make it happen. Except that he nearly does when Jose’s unbuttoning his pants and tugging on his zipper, dropping onto his knees, and it’s a miracle that Brock is able to keep himself up when he’s missed this sight more than he wants to admit.

Jose wastes no time in wrapping his hand around the base of Brock’s dick, swirling his tongue around the tip when a bead of precum leaks out and Brock has to squeeze his eyes shut, pull in a sharp breath because Jose’s too good at it, so close to making him come undone before they’ve even done anything. When he opens his eyes Jose’s looking up at him, keeping eye contact as he twists his hand, coordinating it with the movements of his mouth and Brock has to reach down, tug on Jose’s elbow roughly to pull him back up because he doesn’t want to come so fast, not like this.

Jose’s lips are swollen and his eyes wild and he looks satisfied already, and Brock kisses him partly to wipe that expression off of his face, and partly because he loves the low groan that leaves the back of Jose’s throat when he does.

Jose’s bedroom is the same when he tugs Brock down onto the mattress. There’s an unfamiliar scent of cologne coming from the pillow on what used to be Brock’s side, once upon a time. But Brock ignores it, pushes it away, preferring to focus his attention on Jose and on tugging his shirt off before pulling off his own so that they’re finally, finally pressed up against each other. Jose’s all taut underneath him, his skin hot like coals and it burns Brock in the best way, the heat warming his chest in a way that nothing else can.

“Hurry up.” Jose’s voice is gruff, his head lifting from his pillow to try and capture Brock’s lips but Brock pulls back, kissing down Jose’s chest and ribs and right above his hip bone. The broken noise that Jose lets out as Brock tugs on his shorts and underwear is worth it, a sound that Brock wants to be able to hear over and over again.

“Still kept in here?” Brock opens the first drawer on Jose’s bedside table and the lube and condoms are still there, like Brock remembers.

It’s a weird sense of deja vu - they’ve fucked all over the world, on tour and in between gigs but somehow being back in Jose’s apartment brings a feeling of familiarity, from when they were just beginning, when everything was still fresh and new. Kissing along Jose’s skin, the salty tang of sweat a taste that he remembers from their very first time, one that hasn’t changed.

Brock holds the condom packet up in question, and Jose shoots him a look. “What, you want me to do it for you, or something?”

“So impatient.”

“Shut up.” But Jose’s words are cut off in a groan when Brock pushes his legs open, teases his lubed up fingers by his entrance while he presses kisses along Jose’s hipbone, the crook of his thigh.

He loves seeing Jose come undone like this, so not in control of himself when he’s arching up from the bed, curses falling from his mouth already as Brock curves his fingers, along his prostate. Brock’s close enough himself, already on the edge because his own dick is leaking and he has to focus on the motions of his own fingers to distract himself, to keep going.

Brock pulls his fingers back when Jose whines, tugs on his arm until he crawls back up and captures his lips again. He lets Jose control the pace of the kiss, lets him deepen it but then hooks an arm under the small of Jose’s back, flips him over so he’s on his stomach, gasping and squirming underneath him.

He pushes Jose’s legs apart again after he rolls on the condom, kisses up Jose’s spine and by his shoulder until he’s right by his ear. “This okay?”

“Why you taking forever, bitch-”

Brock pushes into him suddenly, drawing in a breath because fuck , it doesn’t matter who else he sleeps with, who else he has close like this, because it’s different with Jose. Everything he feels so much stronger with Jose, and it makes his own body feel so much more electrified, so much closer to being bowled over. He tugs on Jose’s hips until he’s off the bed slightly, as close as possible so that he can drive himself deeper, faster. Jose is a mess of moans and swear words that blend into one another as his shaky hands fist in the sheets, his face burying in his own elbow.

“Fuck B, fuck-”

Brock makes up for lost time, the distance that’s been between them over the past few months, burying his face in juncture of Jose’s neck and gripping at his skin hard enough to leave bruises. Jose’s letting out broken noises beneath him that make Brock squeeze his eyes shut, push faster, harder, until the headboard is bumping up against the wall. Brock knows Jose’s close, he just needs a little bit more-

Brock lifts Jose’s hips up a little bit more so he can grab his dick, pump it while twisting his hand just the way Jose likes it, not letting up the motions of his hips. And then Jose’s whines become higher in his throat, until he’s coming all over the sheets and on his own thighs. Brock pulls his hand back, grabs at Jose’s hip again and speeds up until he’s gone too, shaking and trembling and trying to catch his breath, his lungs empty and gasping for air.

He turns Jose over, licks the come off his skin and crawls up until he’s at Jose’s lips, kissing him again and it’s less desperate from both of them now, slower. Calmer. Brock rolls off of Jose, rests on his side, and Jose’s the most beautiful man he’s ever seen, all breathless and fucked out but with eyes that are sparkling, warm.

Brock’s never going to tire of the sight.

“I just washed these sheets this morning, you ho. Gonna have to wash ‘em again now.” Jose’s voice is gravelly, a smile playing on his lips as he trails his fingers mindlessly along the veins of Brock’s forearm.

“I’ll help you in the morning.” The words roll off of Brock’s tongue without effort, as if it’s a given that he’s staying over, that trekking back to his own apartment as if this is a one night stand doesn’t make any sense. As if this is a normal occurrence for the two of them.

And maybe, just maybe, Jose’s on the same wavelength too, because he smiles, drops his head on his arm on the mattress. “You better.”

Brock should be worried, freaking out like he normally does, because this isn’t a random city on tour or an unknown dressing room backstage somewhere. It’s Jose’s room, Jose’s bed, somewhere dizzyingly familiar but Brock’s mind is clear, free of the buzzing thoughts that normally turn his brain into a highway of sorts.

It doesn’t have to mean anything, not yet, nor does it ever have to. Maybe it’ll just lead to their paths intersecting more often, crossing with one another more frequently because now they’ll have the chance to, living in the same city. They’re not tied down, nor do they have to be. But the way Jose’s already starting to drift off curled into Brock’s side, an arm over his waist, doesn’t feel restricting, not like it should. Not like it used to. It feels more like a homecoming, because Brock can already feel roots burrowing down into the LA soil and taking hold, anchoring him here, making it his home.

[lordsicheng]

could you do the catching someone's eye with seongwoo too, please? like the one with minhyun you did!

Sure~ 

Again, like the others I have already made, I will focus on his personal placements especially the venus, moon and a bit of his mars

For reference, he has a Leo Moon / Virgo Venus / Libra Mars

Well, well. The ever so good looking Mr. Ong, even his expressions of love and emotions would play a significant role to how to build a stable relationship. Now, I personally believe that he is somewhat an air sign rising (sociable, very attractive both physically and practically, etc). I would be lying if I’d say his features weren’t definitely sculpted by the gods, this boy knows his angles and knows what looks best for him. This is a very common thing for Virgo venuses– they want to look their best. And if they know they’ve got the goods, they’re not afraid to show it. He’d love, love, LOVE compliments from his future s/o. He’d love drowning in them. It very much makes him feel wanted. He’d give back, for sure.

Combination-wise, he can be picky with his romantic choices. Not because he has high standards, rather he wants to look at the pros and cons of dating this person to the next. He’d want to try and test someone who seems to catch his eye if they could handle his whole self. He wants to explore different options, he is likely into doing casual dates first before going serious in relationships. Might even have to go to at least 5 dates before officially going off the market with someone. 

But once he does commit, he’d be very loyal and stable, and will only look at his partner. I think he would like someone who had strong values and is attentive. Attentive as in, they know what’s up with the world and, for Seongwoo, knows at least the things he may like and not like. He has a Leo moon, after all, so he may often talk about things he prefers and not (together with his often nitpicky Virgo placements, tbh.) without even realizing it. Bluffer? Totally. It’s his specialty. Leo moon, hello.

Like Minhyun, I can also see him with someone who has a bit of a motherly side. Someone who can totally show him that they care and value him, someone who compliments him and his hard work and someone he would want to come home to. 

First impression, though, he’d be a true gentleman with a kick of flirtatiousness that he wouldn’t even realize himself on doing. He is the type who is likely to date anytime, anywhere. Very much likely the member of the hyung line who has had flings and all. Experiences keep his ego up into boost. He has airy desires, he loves having many options even though he may come off critical in choosing. But with his venus sign, he would desire one who would be able to depend on him and give him the attention he needs. Doesn’t mean he needs too much attention as in wanting to be babied around, but enough attention to let him know you love and trust him. Someone who can keep his feet on the ground, despite his ever so airy desires.

How to talk to him/get his attention?

I would say to always just be yourself, like the others. 9 times out of 10, he’d be the one who would approach you first tbh. Like I said, he likes exploring and weighing in options, even if he becomes too critical with himself. He’d ask details, for sure, but he’d try to keep only the common things out, and all the privacy inside. He’d only open up to his future partner once he feels the connection with them, he wants loyalty and trust. He wants someone he can rely to at all times. He’s also very dependable, so I’d say trust is the biggest thing he’d value in a relationship.

Just try to befriend him, it’s not that hard. Another reason why I still believe he is an air rising is because of how easy it is for him to make friends. He is able to adapt and vibe with people, all ages and sexes, in a short span of time. He’s also very kind, he shows his humble side very often. But something that would make him float up with emoji hearts around is when someone would compliment him, and his hard work. Sure, complimenting how handsome he is in person is also a plus, but he would make it a point that his work is what’s very important to him. Also, like I said, he may tend to bluff at times– keep yourself grounded on it. Someone who’d shut him up (not in a mean way, of course) and try to snap him out from his bluffing? Attraction shall grow stronger, I tell you.

So, how to win his heart?

At first, try to play hard to get. He’d love a challenge as he finds this much more interesting when trying to pursue someone. Mr. Ong would very much not back down on trying to get your number if his eyes are laid on you the whole night. But even if you try to play hard to get, don’t be mean to him– he’d be turned off. Instead, try to flirt back once he does flirt with you, but keep the mysteriousness going. My, my, he’d love a bit of a mystery here. Makes him want to go on and crave for more. 

Appreciate all of his efforts. Whether it’s work or how he expresses his love, as long as he’s the mastermind, there is nothing better to him when he is given credit for all of it. He’d adore someone who was very appreciative of his efforts, even if they’re the tiniest things. He’d give back and compliment just as much, however, also try to stay humble through it all. He’d be a bit intimidated by someone who was also much of a bluffer as him or even more.

Again, with regards to his bluff, be responsive. He doesn’t need overreactions on times he’d likely boast a little, but keeping his feet on the ground and someone humble would make him want to be the same. Yes, he is a humble person as it is, he would often just bluff for the amusement majority of the time. But reminding him of his roots and how blessed he is for being successful as it is? Big fat yes to his heart. Wouldn’t hurt to laugh at his antics of wanting to entertain, honestly. He’d love genuine reactions rather than over-the-top ones.

Get adventurous! He’d very much love dates that don’t fit into the norm of “boring relationships” as he would or may call. Sure, he’d love staying at home and being with you while doing other stuff, but adventures with him would definitely be a blast. He believes the source of strong commitment is the bonds of what two people have in common or love doing during their pasttimes. In this case, even just going to new cafes and restaurants or hangouts at the mall up to going on hikes can keep his ever so overworked self feel much accomplished, especially with his partner.

Learn to be understanding of how much attention he actually needs. The combination of his Virgo placements and Leo moon crave for assurance and he wants to be comforted for when he feels like he isn’t doing things just the way he planned. Encourage him, support him, do small things that he likes to make him feel better, care for him, and just be there for him whenever he needs someone by his side. Once he realizes your loyalty to him is what keeps things going then he’d feel like the happiest person in the world. If you push him away, however, he’d likely not take this lightly and would start an argument from 0 to 100 in just five seconds. He’d be very baffled and feel disrespected.

Speaking of, he wants mutual respect, personal space and freedom. Even though he may act as if he’d want a routine for both of you, he values freedom of expression and wants all odds to be respected between you two. Doesn’t mean that he wasn’t want to be with you 24/7, but doing different things you both like, he’d believe it’d be a very healthy sense for both of you as you both can get ease of mind. Example, you may like reading and he’d prefer playing video games, he’d want you to respect his own decisions as well as he respect yours. He believes the balance of similarities and differences is a healthy source for a strong commitment as it is able to balance two people out. He’d very much like it if you respect personal space, too. But playing video games with him or suggesting him a book as examples, would also be just as good. You’ll get the git on this. He’ll just come running back to you in no time anyways.

Don’t reprimand his stubbornness and often aloof personality. That’s how he often shows his ego. There is a difference between “reprimanding” and “correcting”. He may not like the idea of being put down because of those traits he has (everyone has positive and negative traits, it’s normal) but if he is going way overboard, don’t be afraid to correct him and telling him the consequences. He will always understand your point, especially trust is strong, but it may take time for him to adapt into your points of what is supposed to be right from what he had done wrong. Always remember, mutual respect is important, so don’t lash out on each other– instead, just talk it out and give your points together. Mutual understanding is just as important as anything.

There are so many things I could write for Seongwoo, honestly, because the combination of his venus and mars is very interesting. I’d probably go on and on for hours, but I don’t want to bore anyone and I am starting to lack words for substitution for the ones I’ve typed (some have been said over and over, as you can tell lol). So yeah, I hope you’re satisfied, anon!

[vorthosjay]

Let’s Talk About Return to Dominaria Episode 9

This one is a fast one, because it’s late, but I feel like there’s a lot to talk about. Here’s the story link. I got exactly what I wanted from Jaya and Karn, but the compressed timeframe for the story and some transitional problems become apparent here. Sorry it’s late, but it’s been a super busy week at work and I wasn’t able to fit it into my usual lunchtime routine.

Chandra’s Outburst by Yongjae Choi

Chandra paced back and forth on the loose dirt near Karn's crater, waving her hands. "Are you kidding me? You've been lying all this time? Why?" They were surrounded by piles of smoldering trees and pieces of wrecked automatons, the air heavy with smoke. Furious, she faced Luti. Or Jaya. Or whoever this was. "Why would you do this to me?"

"Not everything is about you, Chandra." Jaya was annoyingly calm.

I already love Jaya. I’m very, very happy with how this reveal was pulled off, and I’m glad Jaya is way more than her Mother Luti persona.

Jaya sighed. "A long time ago, I went to Regatha, helped a few people, got drunk, talked a lot, apparently did some very impressive pyromancy, then left. Two hundred years later, I went back and found they'd started a religion based on me." She folded her arms and admitted, "It was all a little embarrassing, frankly."

This is quite possibly the best quote ever.

"I didn't want to be a religious icon, but I had to make sure they weren't misrepresenting me!" Jaya said, as if it was obvious. "And I thought I owed them a little guidance. Where do you think the monastery kept getting those 'long-lost writings of Jaya Ballard' from?"

This is EXACTLY what I called out in Jaya Ballard Returns. I love that this blows Chandra’s mind.

Jaya laughed. "Oh, don't look like that." She sighed and her expression turned serious. "I felt guilty. I never meant them to take me that seriously, but there they were, years later, treating me like an all-knowing deity. But I liked the work they were doing, helping young pyromancers. I'd been aging for sixty years, and I wanted to do something worthwhile for what was left of my life." She eyed Chandra. "You have some idea of how hard it can be to help those kids. They're impatient, reckless, refuse to listen to anyone . . ."

THE SHADE. Jaya is like

"And now I'll let you tell me what I need to know to be a more powerful pyromancer."

Jaya took the goggles, and her expression turned hard as stone. "Absolutely not."

"When I was Mother Luti, you dismissed me as a useless old woman. As Jaya Ballard, suddenly I'm worth listening to."

"What are you digging for?" She had been so busy arguing with Jaya yesterday, she hadn't even thought to ask.

"The Cylix," he told her. "It was created by Urza to help defeat the Phyrexians. I intend to take it to New Phyrexia and detonate it there."

"So it's like a bomb? A giant bomb?"

"Exactly like a giant bomb," Karn said.

A couple notes here.

Urza did not create the Golgothian Sylex. I can absolutely see why history would think he did.

“Sylex” is not a real word. Everything after antiquities has used Cylix. This is not an error but the fixing of an error.

"Yes, to help protect the excavation from Multani's attacks. In his semiconscious state, he senses that the Cylix is being uncovered, brought closer to the surface, and he fears it. For good reason; it caused great damage to him.

Ha! I apparently called this one, almost exactly, last month.

"Yeah." Still watching Karn, Jaya shook her head a little. "Everyone I've talked to thinks the Phyrexians aren't a threat anymore, but . . . He needs to do this. I just wish he didn't."

Chandra frowned. "They destroyed a whole plane, so why is destroying them a bad thing?" The problem with interplanar threats was that by the time you realized you were in danger, it was generally too late to do anything about them. Or that was how it had worked with Bolas on Amonkhet.

"Because it means he'll have to go back there." Jaya grimaced. "And that could be a disaster for a number of reasons."

It could be! We don’t know what effect it will have on New Phyrexia. A mission to New Phyrexia, in general, is fraught with dangers, not the least of which is Karn’s recapture.

But Chandra looked back at Multani. Karn had said he was semiconscious, that he would never do any of this if he was awake and aware. She didn't want to leave him like that. And she thought she knew a solution. "No, you two go. I want to try to fix this."

"Fix it?" Jaya asked, startled. "How?"

"Something a friend of mine showed me."

They’re leaning into Gruulfriends here a bit, aren’t they?

She said, "I know you can hear me. I know you don't want to be like this, you don't want to hurt people. That's not what you are. Think about water, still cool water. Flowing over your skin, your bark, into your branches and leaves. You're a light, floating on that water."

Just saying the words like Nissa had, visualizing them, made Chandra feel calmer. I miss her, and I don't know if I'm ever going to see her again. Chandra imagined the light floating on the water herself and let her emotions still into a calm sadness. She remembered what Jaya had said about knowing your true self and added, "I know you don't want to hurt anyone. Sink into the water, find your true self waiting there. Remember—remember who you are . . ."

"I don't want to fight with you, Jaya. I'm sorry about how I treated you and I understand why you don't want to help me. I wouldn't want to help me, either. But I hope we can still be friends."

Jaya eyed her, a small smile tugging at her mouth.

Hey, more character growth for Chandra, that’s not all that common so I’m happy with this.

Teferi lifted his brows. "Karn could help. But you forget, I'm no longer a Planeswalker. Unless Bolas comes here . . ." He trailed off as Jhoira lifted her pendant and opened it. His eyes widened.

"I'd never forget that," Jhoira said, watching him gravely. The Powerstone in the locket was reflected in Teferi's eyes. He had recognized it immediately, felt its call to him.

Karn leaned forward to look. "It's your spark?"

Teferi's brow furrowed. "How?" he said.

"The Mana Rig." She held it out to him. "Will you take it back?"

Lol, okay, so this makes it pretty clear we’re not getting the metaphysics for how this happened. Just accept that it did. That’s fine, I doubt any attempt to explain the metaphysics of it would actually help in any meaningful way.

Teferi expended his spark on Shiv to restore it. I’m sure that if Jhoira could detect the dispersed power, she could charge a powerstone with it somehow. Not a big deal.

"He didn't tell you about the Black Blade," Liliana said, with an irritated glance at him. "It's a sword that slew an elder dragon, and Gideon is too delicate to allow us to use it."

I’m pretty sure this ends with Gideon using it (which we know from the flavor text) because he doesn’t want anyone else to make that sacrifice.

A thump of displaced air made him flinch, then with a sudden blaze of blue light, someone else stood in the compartment.

Gideon shoved out of his chair and grabbed for his sword. Jaya was already on her feet, Liliana threw herself back against the wall and lifted her hands to cast a spell, and Chandra vaulted on top of the table, fire already crackling around her hair. Then Gideon froze, recognizing the aether trail almost before he recognized the newcomer's face. "Jace!"

This is heavily incongruous with the time frame presented in the Ixalan story, where Jace has been for about five months.

The time from HOU to this story, as presented for Chandra, is less than two weeks.

That’s not a small discrepancy. A few days are whatever, a few months are... significantly confusing. 

I talk a bit about my unhappyness with this continuity error here.

Basically, I’m of a few minds about it. I don’t like being the continuity police, and I’m willing to overlook quite a bit. Dominaria is weird because there is a lot of deliberately misremembered history, too, so it’s not always clear whats a continuity error and what characters don’t actually have their facts straight.

I think what happened here is the timeline for developing Dominaria and Rivals of Ixalan’s stories overlapped, and some details were lost in translation. It’s entirely possible that, simply, no one realized the timelines didn’t match up. Ixalan was a labor of love by Kelly and Alison, along with editor Gregg Luben. Those credits show an incredibly short staffed creative team that’s only gotten more so. It’s possible that simply put, no one had time to triple check for continuity errors like that. The Jace scene, as written, isn’t a big deal because that kind of thing happens all the time in serialized stories like this, but there are a few other questionable bits of continuity in the stories for Dominaria that I’ve mentioned in this series as ‘huh?’ moments.

Ultimately, I’m going to chalk it up to growing pains. I’m looking at getting an interview with the new Senior Narrative Franchise Designer so we can get a better idea of what the story development process looks like these days.

*STRONG LANGUAGE WARNING, SKIP AHEAD IF NECESSARY*

And honestly, I’ve thought about it a lot, and you need to understand how much of a continuity clusterfuck most of Magic’s history is, especially regarding early Magic history. The difference of a few months is a big continuity error to us today, but that really just speaks well to the current creative team because once upon a time timelines didn’t line up, characters existed in different forms across different novels centuries apart, and the same location existed on completely different continents, among other shenanigans.

Dominaria’s issues are incredibly minor by comparison.

Jhoira smiled faintly. "I don't know what the future holds, and this might be a moment we both regret later. But this is a weapon you should have." She pulled the pendant off her neck and dropped it into Teferi's waiting palm. "Welcome back."

How does he get his spark back out, though? Does he eat it? I imagine this is going to be another one that’s just not explained.

[swiggity-swump]

Out to Pasture

(the title’s really dumb lol)

@sad--ghost--kid I finished your prompt!! :D I hope you like 2600 words of hurt and minimal comfort. (This is actually pretty unusual for me since I lean towards comfort but I really had a lot of fun with this.) I hope you enjoy it!

Prompt: “danny breaks his arm in a ghost fight, and even though he can reset the bones with intangibility, and has fast healing (at least as i hc it), it will still take a few days for his arm to fully heal. how does he handle school the next day? hopefully it’s cold enough that he can wear long sleeves to cover the bruises, but that’s only one aspect of many regarding hiding a broken arm that doesnt even have a cast ;)”

Danny’s always been a pretty smart kid. He’s followed the rules, kept himself safe. He doesn’t run on wet floors. He looks both ways before crossing the street. He wears his helmet when he rides his scooter.

Unfortunately for him, he probably should have been wearing more than that.

He’s not sure at first what it is that makes him fly off of his scooter, but the chances are good that it’s another ghost. He’s actually relatively calm in the moments between when he’s knocked aside and when he hits the ground. There’s no reason to believe that this should be anything other than a routine battle. And then-

crRACK.

The sound Danny makes when he hits the pavement is somewhere between a gasp, a wheeze, and a whimper. Hot pain flares along the length of his left arm, with the worst concentrated just below his shoulder. Tears fill his eyes and he focuses on blinking them away, so much so that it takes him some time to realize that he’s been holding his breath.

His subsequent attempts to breathe evenly are cut short by a blow to the face that leaves a deep gash across his cheek. Danny jerks his head sharply away and scrabbles backwards, slowed by the fact that his injured arm is cradled tightly against his body.

Once he’s put some distance between them, Danny is finally able to get a good look at his attacker. He feels the smallest pinprick of relief that it’s not one of his more powerful enemies, just a mook, but he’s still on guard - the big bad could still be somewhere nearby. As it is, what he’s facing down now looking to be some sort of ghostly… buffalo? He doesn’t know. He got a C in Biology.

Well, whatever it is, the thing is pawing the ground with its razor-sharp hooves like it’s ready to charge. Danny’s going to have to transform, despite the throbbing in his arm.

He closes his eyes and breathes as deeply as he can. “I’m going ghost,” he murmurs, more to get himself in the right frame of mind than anything else. It takes an immense amount of willpower, but he forces his thoughts to the transformation.

The relief that comes once he’s transformed is immediate; the searing pain is replaced with a cool, tingly sensation. A cocky grin crosses his face. “Time to put you out to pasture,” he taunts, a plan already forming in his mind. He stares the ghost down, crouching as if prepared to wrestle with it.

The ghost’s red eyes narrow and it snorts angrily before leaping into a charge. The speed takes Danny by surprise, but he holds his ground as the specter bears down on him. He waits… waits…

And at the last second, he goes intangible. The buffalo doesn’t have enough time to stop - instead, it crashes headfirst into the wall behind Danny. He wastes no time in uncapping the Fenton Thermos and pointing it at the dazed ghost.

He races to come up with a witty send-off as the buffalo is absorbed into the Thermos. All that he manages is “Bye, son.” He winces at his own joke - even he knows that was bad. Are bison and buffaloes even the same thing?

He should have saved the pasture joke for the end. Now that one was good.

Reluctantly, Danny turns his mind from the puns. He has a more pressing issue to deal with. How, he’s not sure, but he can’t exactly waltz home with a broken arm.

Is it even broken? He hopes not, but given the pain that he was in earlier… On a whim, Danny lets his injured left arm go intangible.

Shit. Shit. That’s definitely broken. He squeezes his eyes shut and inhales shakily, desperate to get ahold of himself.

Okay. He’s gonna have to deal with this no matter what.

Danny tries to mentally detach himself when he opens his eyes again to get a better look at the fracture. It looks like a pretty clean break, at least, and the bone isn’t sticking out of his skin. A closer inspection reveals that there are a few fragments of bone floating freely. Danny figures that he should try to remove those first.

Very carefully, Danny reaches into the intangible arm and closes his fingers around a sliver of bone, extracting it easily. He stares at the tiny white chip in his palm, smaller than a dime, with morbid fascination. I just pulled this out of my own body.

Not sure what else to do with it, Danny lets it drop to the ground and goes back in for the next one. He falls into a surprisingly easy rhythm of removing the fragments, one at a time, one after another.

Eventually, all of the fragments lie piled at his feet, glinting dully in the harsh illumination of a nearby streetlight. There’s no ignoring it now, Danny knows. He’s going to have to deal with the real problem.

His upper arm bone - the humerus? - is jaggedly split a little below the shoulder joint. The two pieces are unaligned; the one connected to his elbow seems to be pointed too low.

Danny hesitates, then closes his eyes and gives the displaced bone an experimental tug. The sensation that results certainly isn’t pleasant, but it’s not quite painful, either. He can only describe it is a stretching sort of feeling, as if his muscles are slowly catching up with the bone that they’re attached to.

Time crawls by as Danny resets the bone, inch by inch. He keeps his eyes shut tight, going by feel instead of sight, forced to wait longer and longer periods of time for the muscles to match the bone. Soreness creeps into his arm despite the natural anesthesia that his ghost form seems to provide, and he dreads the agony that he knows he’ll be in once he switches back.

At long last, the edges of the snapped bones grind together. Danny opens his eyes and peeks at his arm, sighing in relief when he sees that the bones appear relatively normal. He would have appreciated a diagram to be sure, but he’s working with what he has. Which is nothing.

Only now that he’s finished setting the bone does Danny realize that he’s quaking with anxiety. He lets his broken arm return to its tangible form and lowers himself to sit on the curb, in desperate need of a chance to process the night’s events. His mind drifts to other things - how late it is, the homework that he still has to do, doesn’t he have a test coming up this week? - so that when he transforms back he does so without thinking about it.

This was a mistake.

The scorching, sickening ache tears through him anew, just as intense as the initial impact had been. Danny bites his lip to stop himself from screaming, so hard that the skin splits under his teeth and blood rolls down his chin. Nausea roils within his stomach and he tucks his head between his knees, frantically dragging air through his nose as his entire body tenses up.

Danny becomes acutely aware of the pounding of blood through his veins, almost deafening in the silence of the night. He latches onto it, grounding himself with the constant thump, thump, thump until it fades away. The pain lessens alongside it - not by much, but enough to be bearable.

Danny wipes the blood off of his chin with his shirt sleeve, wincing a bit when he presses the still-fresh wound against his teeth. He stands up decisively, glad to find that he’s much steadier on his feet than he would have predicted when he leans down to retrieve his scooter using his good arm.

As he sets off for home, pulling the scooter along behind him, it occurs to him that he’d been in the beam of a streetlight the entire time. It’s a real stroke of luck that no one had walked by and witnessed all that; he’ll have to be more careful in the future.

It takes him longer than he would have liked to walk the last block home, but on the upside, the house is dark and no one bothers Danny on his way upstairs, not even Jazz. It’s an absolute relief. He’s bone-tired and not in the mood to be interrogated, and he definitely doesn’t have enough of his wits about him to make up an excuse for a broken freaking arm.

Danny melts into bed without bothering to shower or change into his pajamas. His broken arm forces him to lie uncomfortably on his right side, with his injured arm tucked tightly against his body. It’s a completely unnatural position, and despite his exhaustion it takes Danny at least an hour before he finally is able to acquiesce to sleep.

-----

Danny feels like roadkill when he wakes up the next morning. His left arm is the worst of it, but the rest of him is stiff and achy from the awkward sleeping position. On top of that, he’s just plain tired. It’s as if he hasn’t slept at all.

He slides out of bed and stumbles to the bathroom in a daze. His face reflected in the mirror is a miserable sight - he’s pale and drawn, and the bags under his eyes are so swollen and blue that they look like bruises. His lower lip is crusted by a messy scab, which he cautiously probes at with his tongue. The only good thing that he can say for himself is that the cut across his face is completely healed.

The rest of him doesn’t look much better. A dark streak of dried blood stains the right shoulder of his shirt, which is torn in various places from the brawl the night before. He catches sight of a dark shadow underneath his left sleeve and rolls it up, apprehensive.

A mottled mosaic of bruising in various shades of yellow, purple, and black covers a huge portion of Danny’s shoulder. He runs his fingers over the area as lightly as he can, wincing when he notices the swelling.

Danny pulls the sleeve back down. He knows that he’ll need long sleeves to hide it, but there’s no way he’s lifting his arms up to change his shirt.

It takes him a while rooting around his room with one arm to find his red hoodie, and even longer to pull it ever so gently over his injured arm. The hoodie is old and a little small, and for a minute or so Danny thinks that it won’t fit over the swollen shoulder, but finally he prevails. Once the hoodie is zipped up, the injury is well hidden.

Danny zeros in on the medicine cabinet once he gets downstairs, intent on a pain reliever. There is no way he can make it through the day without one. He’s focused enough that he doesn’t notice when Jazz comes up behind him.

“Danny?” She places a tentative hand on his shoulder - the wrong shoulder. Danny flinches away from her.

“Don’t touch,” he snaps, more sharply than he means to. Jazz obligingly draws her hand back, concern painting her face.

“Danny, you look awful. You should be in bed. Did you check your temperature? If it’s more than a hundred it’s an excused absence.

It takes a second for Danny to understand the situation. “Umm…” he stalls, mind whirring. Then it clicks. “Uh, yeah, I did, it’s only ninety-nine. Point four. Um. And I have a test today… English test. You know how Lancer is, just won’t let up on us hardworking students!”

It’s a total lie, and Danny worries that his rambling cover-up will make his sister suspicious. Luckily, she seems to chalk it up to his supposed illness.

“Okay, okay, if you say so,” she relents. “But if you get worse you need to go to the nurse so she can send you home. And here, take these. They work best for me.” She grabs a box from the cabinet and sets it on the counter in front of him.

Danny deflates when he realizes that it’s cold medicine, not a pain reliever, but he knows Jazz isn’t going to let him back out of this unless he comes clean. He scarfs down a granola bar and mentally crosses his fingers before taking a small dose, hoping that it won’t have any adverse effect.

“I can drive you,” Jazz calls from the door. “I’ll be in the car when you’re ready.” The door slams behind her.

Danny doesn’t bother trying to get his injured arm through the backpack strap as he walks out the door.

-----

The cold medicine doesn’t kill him, at least, but it does make him very, very drowsy. As hard as he tries to pay attention, he finds himself nodding off, his head pillowed on his good arm. To his tired gratitude, his teachers all let it slide. Even Lancer, after an appraising look at his wan face, ghosts a comforting hand over Danny’s shoulder. “You can make this up another time,” he whispers. “Do you want to go to the nurse and take some medication?”

“I already did,” he mutters. It’s not technically a lie.

Mr. Lancer’s concerned look doesn’t lift, but he doesn’t press the issue, moving down the aisle to pass out the rest of the tests.

Danny’s sleep is fitful, disrupted by the sharp ache of his arm, which the meds haven’t made a dent in, and the noise of the students around him. He stumbles to each class more tired and disoriented than the time before. It’s a miracle he doesn’t get lost before his last period - gym class.

That miracle comes in the form of Sam, who carefully grabs Danny’s good arm and steers him towards the boys’ locker room before peeling off to go to her own. Vaguely, he recollects filling in her and Tucker on the details of last night and that morning.

Tucker finds Danny staring dully at his locker, groping for the combination to open it. “It’s all good, Danny, I talked to coach, he says you don’t have to participate. Honestly, all of the teachers know already, I’m surprised they haven’t sent you home yet.”

He gets the gist of what Tucker says to him. After his friend changes into his gym uniform, Danny lets Tucker lead him into the gym and to the wall. He immediately slumps against it, tilting his head back and drifting once again into a doze.

The class has hardly started when Dash’s voice rings out above the clattering din of the gym. “Looks like Fenton caught a cold. But can he catch this?”

Catch what? Danny forces his eyes open, but he’s too groggy to move, not even after he sees the football spiraling through the air toward him.

Yet another mistake in a long line of them.

The point of the football connects with the break in his bone. With sickening clarity, Danny feels it displace for the second time in as many days. A choked sob escapes him, and his eyes swim with tears. This time they fall, tracking freely down both sides of his face. His jaw clenches and his teeth slice open the cut they made last night. It’s all too much at once.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Dash!?” Sam’s voice, deep and throaty and fierce, like it gets only when she’s worried about something. About him.

Danny comes the the hazy realization that he’s balled up, lying facedown on the gym floor and cradling his abused arm. As black spots dance in front of his eyes, his pain and misery fade into relief.

At least I won’t have to hide it anymore, he thinks, before passing out cold.