#My Drifting Superstition

[senorboombastic]

Live Review: Jade Hairpins at YES in Manchester 9 February 2023

Words: Andy Hughes The story goes that Jade Hairpins mysteriously emerged back in late 2018, an unknown outfit releasing a 12 inch on Merge Records. A coinky-dink for the eagle-eyed mind you, as life-affirming Canadian hardcore collective Fucked Up just happened to be releasing new album ‘Dose Your Dreams‘ on the very same day. We were somehow oblivious to all of this of course, only…

[taegularities]

some men are textbook villains fr

[pucksandpower]

I Have Needs Too

Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Summary: an old sports superstition claims that abstinence can help maximize athletes’ performance … your boyfriends decide to give it a try, much to your chagrin

Warnings: 18+ content

“I’m going to explode!” You whine dramatically, flopping down on the couch between your boyfriends. They exchange amused glances over your head.

“What’s wrong, love?” Lando asks gently, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You huff in frustration. “You know exactly what’s wrong! It’s been weeks since we ...” You trail off meaningfully, raising your eyebrows.

Oscar chuckles, slipping an arm around your shoulders. “Come on now, it’s not been that bad.”

“Easy for you to say!” You retort. “You two have your racing to distract you. I’m stuck here all day, bored out of my mind and craving attention.” You pout at them.

Lando shakes his head in mock exasperation. “We talked about this, darling. The abstinence has really helped our performance lately.”

“I know, I know,” you sigh. “And I’m so proud of how well you both are driving this season. But ...” You bite your lip, gazing up at them beseechingly.

Oscar brushes a thumb over your cheek. “We understand it’s not easy, babe. But just be patient a little longer. We’re doing this for the team.”

You nod reluctantly, nestling into Oscar’s shoulder. His warmth and familiar scent are comforting, even as your body craves more.

“Why don’t we watch a movie to take your mind off it?” Lando suggests brightly, grabbing the remote.

You suppress a grumble. As if anything could distract you from the delicious men on either side of you. But you acquiesce for their sake, snuggling into Oscar’s side as Lando queues up an action comedy.

Twenty minutes in, you’re fidgeting restlessly, acutely aware of Oscar’s fingers trailing idly along your arm. You glance over at Lando to find him watching you, mirth dancing in his eyes. Your breath catches at the heat in his gaze.

Unable to resist, you reach over and trail a finger down his chest suggestively. Lando inhales sharply, his eyes darkening. Beside you, Oscar goes very still.

You bite your lip coyly. “Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider this whole abstinence thing?”

Lando swallows hard, his eyes raking over you hungrily. For a moment you think he might give in. But then he shakes his head ruefully. “You know we can’t, love. Just try to be patient.”

You huff in frustration, crossing your arms over your chest. Oscar squeezes your shoulder sympathetically. “It’s only a few more weeks till the season ends.”

“A few weeks too many,” you grumble. “I have needs too, you know!”

Lando chuckles, the sound sending a spark down your spine. “Believe me, we know. And we intend to take very good care of those needs once the season’s over.” His heated gaze leaves no doubt as to his meaning.

You bite back a whimper, arousal coiling hot and heavy within you. “Promise?” You breathe.

“Promise,” Oscar murmurs lowly in your ear, his warm breath raising goosebumps on your skin.

You suppress a shiver with effort, knowing you won’t get any further with them today. With a dramatic sigh, you settle back against Oscar, trying your best to focus on the movie.

But as the minutes tick by, you grow increasingly restless. Oscar’s solid warmth against your side only fuels your rising frustration. You shift, crossing and uncrossing your legs in an effort to relieve the building ache between your thighs.

Oscar glances down at you, one brow raised knowingly. “You alright there?”

You bite your lip. “I’m fine,” you reply tersely.

His mouth twitches in a hint of a smile and he resumes watching the movie, his arm a tantalizing weight across your shoulders.

You do your best to keep your eyes on the screen, but your thoughts keep drifting to much more pleasurable images — memories of your boys’ hands and mouths lavishing you with attention. You clench your thighs together, suppressing a whimper.

Gradually you become aware of your hand drifting higher up Oscar’s thigh, seemingly of its own accord. You freeze, snatching it back, your face flaming.

Oscar looks down at you, his brown eyes darkening subtly. “Y/N ...” he begins, a note of warning in his tone.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” you babble, avoiding his heated gaze. “I just … I can’t help it, Oscar, I need ...” You trail off helplessly.

His eyes soften and he brushes a stray lock of hair back from your face. “I understand, love. Just try to hang in there a little longer.”

You bite back a whine of frustration and force yourself to sit on your hands, determined not to let them wander again. But as the minutes pass, you grow more and more antsy and on edge. Your whole body feels like a live wire, hypersensitive and aching for their touch. Unconsciously, you press your thighs together again, seeking some form of relief, but it’s not nearly enough.

Abruptly you get to your feet, ignoring Oscar’s questioning look. “I just … need some air. I’ll be right back.” Before he can respond, you hurry from the room on shaky legs.

In the bedroom, you begin pacing agitatedly, running your hands through your hair. This is torture, plain and simple. You’ve never felt so pent-up and on edge in your life. Surely no one could expect you to hold out much longer under these conditions?

Your gaze falls on the bed and you freeze, a reckless idea taking shape in your mind. No … you couldn’t possibly … could you?

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you shut the door behind you as quietly as you can. Then you begin shedding your clothes hastily until you’re down to your underwear.

You stand there a moment, nibbling your lip uncertainly. But the throbbing ache between your legs wins out over your hesitation. Taking a deep breath, you slide your underwear off and climb onto the bed.

Propping some pillows up against the headboard, you lean back and let your legs fall open. Your fingers trail teasingly up your inner thighs and you have to suppress a needy whimper. Slowly, watching yourself in the mirror across from the bed, you begin to stroke along your slick folds.

A breathy moan escapes you at the exquisite sensation. After weeks of deprivation, your swollen flesh is so sensitive that the lightest touch sends spikes of pleasure through you. As you work yourself higher, you let your eyes slip closed, losing yourself in the building bliss.

You’re so consumed by sensation that you don’t hear the bedroom door open. But Oscar’s sharp intake of breath jolts you back to awareness. Your eyes fly open to see him standing frozen in the doorway, his shocked gaze riveted on where your fingers are buried between your legs.

Heat floods your cheeks but you don’t stop, biting your lip coyly. “I tried … I really did. But I just couldn’t wait any longer.”

Oscar makes a strangled noise low in his throat, his eyes blazing. He takes a step into the room just as Lando comes up behind him.

“Oscar, what ...” Lando begins, then trails off as he peers over Oscar’s shoulder. “Bloody hell,” he breathes, his eyes going wide.

Your flush deepens at their rapt expressions but you hold their heated stares boldly. Oscar takes another step toward you, clenching his jaw.

“Y/N,” he warns in a strained voice. “What did we say about patience?”

You pout up at him beseechingly. “Please … don’t make me stop,” you whimper.

Groaning under his breath, Oscar rakes a hand through his hair. You can see his restraint hanging by a thread. Lando moves up behind him, gripping his shoulders.

“How can we resist when she tempts us so sweetly?” Lando murmurs.

Their hungry eyes devouring you makes moisture flood your aching core. Emboldened, you spread your legs wider, giving them an unobstructed view. Oscar makes a choked noise, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“You’re playing with fire,” he warns through gritted teeth. But his eyes are riveted on your fingers sliding slickly along your slippery folds.

Your strokes increase in urgency as your climax builds, whimpers escaping your lips. “Please,” you gasp pleadingly. “I need you ...”

With a growled curse, Oscar surges forward, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. His body covers yours and you sigh in bliss, finally getting what you crave. His tongue plunges past your lips, tangling fiercely with yours. You can feel his restraint hanging by a thread in the urgency of his kiss.

Lando joins in moments later, his clever hands trailing fire over your sensitized skin. Caught between the two of them, you’re surrounded by hard muscle and greedy mouths. The sweet relief of their touch after so long has you reeling.

You clutch desperately at Oscar’s back, urging him closer between your thighs. But he resists, keeping maddening inches between your bodies.

Pulling back from the kiss, his eyes bore into yours, dark with desire but firm. “Not yet, babe. You’ve been a naughty girl. Don’t think you’re getting out of this so easily.”

You whine in frustration, arching up against him beseechingly. But Oscar grasps your wrists, pinning them to the bed on either side of your head.

“Ah ah, patience,” he chides with a smirk.

Lando chuckles, trailing kisses down between your breasts. “Our minx deserves a bit of torment, I’d say.”

You whimper as their hands and mouths worship every inch of you except where you need them most. They lavish attention on your breasts, your neck, your inner thighs — everywhere except for your poor aching and dripping core.

“Please,” you gasp, writhing beneath their exquisite torture.

Lando looks up at you from between your thighs, eyes dancing wickedly. “Tell me, do you regret being a brat yet, darling?”

You shake your head desperately. Oscar tsks, tweaking a stiff nipple to make you arch sharply. “I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson quite yet.”

They continue driving you right up to the brink only to back off again and again, keeping you suspended in agonizing arousal. You’re a writhing, pleading mess beneath their skillful touches.

Just when you think you can’t take another second, Oscar’s fingers finally find your slick heat. You cry out sharply, cradled between them as he strokes you with knowing skill. Lando’s teeth graze the tender spot on your neck and you shudder, right on the precipice.

“That’s it, let go for us,” Lando rasps in your ear. His voice combined with Oscar’s relentless rhythm pushes you over the edge with a breathless wail.

You’re still trembling through aftershocks when Oscar captures your mouth again, kissing you deeply as his hands fumble at his belt. Understanding dawns through the pleasured fog in your mind and you still his movements with a hand on his chest.

“Wait,” you gasp out. At his bewildered look you offer a coy smile. “You two still have your little abstinence pact to uphold. Can’t have you breaking it on my account.”

Oscar stares at you incredulously for a moment before huffing out a disbelieving laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

Lando groans behind you. “Y/N, love, don’t be cruel ...”

You silence him with a finger to his lips, giving them both a mock stern look. “What? You made a commitment. I won’t have you compromising your performance for me.”

They gape at you in sexual frustration and dismay. Taking pity, you lean in and place a placating peck on each of their cheeks.

“There now, that will have to hold you over. Only a few more weeks till the season ends!” You pat their shoulders consolingly before sliding off the bed on shaky legs. Sashaying your hips, you head for the bathroom, their heated stares like a brand on your bare skin.

Pausing in the doorway, you glance back alluringly. “Of course, once the season ends, we can all properly celebrate … if you’re good boys for me.” You shoot them a cheeky wink over your shoulder, “Cold showers might help until then.”

You suspect you’ll pay dearly for such exquisite torture later on. But their reactions were well worth it. And the countdown to the end of the season has never seemed sweeter.

[suashii]

୨♡୧ TO WISH AND TO WANT — itoshi rin x reader. sfw. fluff.

despite his hardened exterior, rin’s features are quite delicate. there’s a softness to his face, in his jaw and in his cheeks. he looks younger, more innocent, when his eyes are closed and there’s no tension tugging at his eyebrows. it’s a sight only you are warranted, one you get to see every time he lays his head in your lap and lets your fingers run through dark, silky strands of hair.

your eyes flit between his face and the tv — it’s playing a movie rin puts on often. you’re sure that even though his eyes are closed, he can envision everything he’s hearing. you can’t say the same for yourself, gaze fixated on rin’s relaxed expression rather than the screen ahead of you. the concentration of your stare reveals an imperfection on his otherwise flawless skin.

it’s a long, dark eyelash that has strayed from the rest and fallen to the plump of his cheek.

strange — how this is the first time you’ve seen this, considering how distinctly the hairs frame his eyes. you don’t ponder on it too long, choosing to, instead, reach down from the top of his head to his cheek so that you collect the eyelash on the pad of your finger. you can feel his skin slightly twitch beneath you but he makes no effort to open his eyes.

you almost feel bad disrupting his peaceful moment but, before you truly know what you’re doing, you call out his name. “rin.”

he hums and you can feel the low vibrations of it on your thighs. a second later he lets his eyelids flutter open, revealing aqua irises. they stare up at you, question and curiosity swimming within them.

“one of your eyelashes fell off,” you tell him, holding your pointer finger near his face. he can’t see it unless he looks to the side, but you don’t want to risk losing the tiny hair.

he doesn’t—look, that is—and keeps his gaze focused on you. “so?”

“so,” you pinch his cheek with your free hand as punishment for him being petulant, “you can make a wish on it.”

it’s something you did a lot in your childhood, at least whenever you had the chance. it’s a bit silly now, knowing that it’s simply a superstition, but a little piece of you holds onto that child-like hope that maybe wishes do come true.

rin must not share that optimism because his eyes drift shut as easily as they had earlier when he first got comfortable in your lap. though, the words he speaks next are enough to tell you that you aren’t being completely ignored. “you do it.”

“no way. your eyelash, your wish.” you poke his cheek this time in an attempt to get him to play along just this once.

it takes a little more of your prodding and some pleading for rin to open his eyes again. the subtle pinch between his brows conveys his exasperation but there’s no maliciousness in his expression. in fact, the sigh that pushes past his lips is closer to one of defeat than anything else. he really can’t say no to you. you must know it, too. “what am i supposed to wish for?”

you shrug but there’s a smile pulling at your lips, courtesy of rin’s agreement. “a pony, to be able to fly—whatever your heart desires.”

he snorts at your suggestions—the first two, at least. he takes the last one a bit more seriously because, even though he doesn’t believe in wishes coming true, there is something that he desperately wants and he’ll do everything he can to make it a reality; even wishing on a meaningless eyelash.

“okay, i’ve got my wish.” he blinks up at you. “what now?”

“blow the eyelash off my finger,” you direct him, gently wiggling your finger to get his attention. he turns his head to the side and is greeted with your outstretched pointer. sure enough, there’s a small, dark hair sitting atop your unique print. 

rin doesn’t waste any time blowing a cool stream of air that sends the eyelash flying. he can’t follow its path but it surely ends up somewhere on the living room floor. with it out of his sight, rin returns to his former position, letting his eyes fall shut before he nudges your hand in a silent gesture for you to pick up where you left off playing with his hair.

you do as he wishes and run your fingers through his locks, lightly scratching his scalp with your nails. the peaceful look you’ve grown accustomed to is back and its appearance puts a small smile on your face.

you’re sure it’s because you’ve started toying with his hair again, but the tranquility painted over rin’s features has to do with something else this time — a promise he’s made to himself that, regardless of a wish, he’s going to spend as many nights as possible like this, with you.

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

[earthstellar]

Medical Staff Superstitions and Cybertronian Medics

I was just thinking: What superstitions might Cybertronian medical staff have?

For some real world examples:

-Deaths come in threes

-Tying the corners of a bed's sheets "keeps the soul in" (helps prevents a patient from worsening/dying)

-Preparing for certain procedures ahead of time wards off certain incidents from happening (crash cart, some surgical setup, etc.)

-Full moon means a busy shift

-Some staff can be "unlucky"; For example, if a certain doc/nurse is working that shift, you can expect X to happen

-Nobody should ever say the word "quiet", or things are about to get real, real loud (busy)

Superstitions in healthcare vary from region to region, and from speciality to specialty.

For example, in a maternity/birthing ward, a well-prepared birth plan means everyone should prepare for emergency c-section or post partum haemorrhage.

One of my friends who is a nurse in Mexico said that a picture of an upside-down cat or upside-down dog pinned on the wall helps prevent poor outcomes! (This is apparently often done with pictures of staff member's pets, lmao.)

I'm sure that Ratchet wouldn't (at least knowingly) lean into any superstitions that might exist in Cybertronian healthcare, but I feel like other medics might.

Perhaps it varies regionally across Cybertron, too-- Tetrahexian medics may have different beliefs compared to Praxian medics, and so on.

I can see First Aid, with his collection of Autobot badges, potentially putting one upside-down on his work station. It would probably drive Ratchet up the wall, but Velocity might ask questions about it and share some Camien medical superstitions!

IDK It's just fun to think about.

Ratchet might even engage in some superstitions unconsciously, just out of habit from centuries of working with other medics in Iacon etc. who would probably get upset if the superstitions weren't taken into consideration, lmao.

First Aid might call this out in front of Drift, who would then be aaaaabsolutely fascinated, lmao.

I'm at work right now so I might elaborate a bit on this later, just thinkin' out loud lol

[semperamans]

idk if you’ve ever seen austin’s show masters of the air but omg i need gale “buck” cleven as my pretty 1940s army pilot fiancé :((( he’s so handsome and quiet and thoughtful i love him

i LOVED masters of the air oh my GOODNESS :'( i have a lot of thoughts :( this turned poly because - well, everything i write tends to drift that way.

buck fell in love the moment he saw you which was pretty darn special because he doesn't believe in superstitions, y'know? doesn't rub rabbits' feet, never avoided a black cat, doesn't wish on stars n'he sure as heck doesn't believe in love at first sight - or well, he didn't until you came along. then he starts to think that maybe magic does exist because you cannot be an ordinary girl. no, you have a voice that soothes his woes n'eyes that bring him home and "what's your name? that's pretty." and now he will never forget it :( he goes to sleep believin' that he didn't catch lightning in a bottle, he was lucky enough to capture the whole storm.

then you meet bucky who falls in love with you for an entirely different reason. bucky loves you because, well, apart from himself, no one has an effect on the boy who appears so cool constantly. but you, oh you, you make buck smile. you pull the laughter from wherever it hides and volley it up to bucky and he takes it in stride. you spend many a'nights gigglin' like school children but it makes buck happy. happier than he's ever been n'it's thanks to you two acting like fools, poorly singin' karaoke and ruffling his hair and pressing kisses on his cheeks and he realizes that he wants this life forever when the three of you mosey into his hometown. the boys are on leave and buck is dyin' to show ya the cabin that he helped build when he was a boy. he lives there now n'this nice woman named mrs. bodine upkeeps it while he's gone. it overlooks a pond (where you later learn to fish) and the wildflowers that grow high and mighty have petals in colors you've never seen before. the nights are cold, but sandwiched between the boys you feel just fine. they can name every constellation in the sky but you can kiss every constellation on their faces.

it's a little life - but it's a good one n'buck knows it can all change. knows the balance of the world is constantly teetering and it may all go to shit - hell everything in his life always has - but you and bucky? you're real (somehow) and stable and his. what more could he ever need?

[smilesrobotlover]

Now I must know

What are your headcanons on how first became the FD

IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED ANON HEHEHEHEH

ok so. After the battle between Hylia and Demise, she decided to bring her people, the Hylians, up to the sky to keep them away from Demise’s wrath. He was sealed away but he was still on the surface where he could harm her people. The Sheikah stayed behind to watch over the seal and were blessed with protection from Hylia, and then skyloft was formed. However, any Hylian that was left behind on the surface were… let’s just say they did not have a good time. Unfortunately, First was one of the Hylians. Now he was dead, so ofc he didn’t go to the sky with the rest of the Hylians. But being on the surface instead of in the sky did something to his spirit. Instead of being taken to the sacred realm where he could rest, he was taken to a strange world. A world that was not touched by any of the golden goddesses. A world that was littered with demons and deities fighting for power. Termina. With his spirit taken to Termina, he was turned into the fierce deity due to magical bs powers. But he doesn’t remember anything. He doesn’t remember Hylia, his friends, or his past. I kinda wanna write a fic about fierce slowly learning about who he was in the beginning while fighting demons threatening the mortals of Termina (this is what got him the name Fierce Deity. He was a powerful fighter but was benevolent, so he wasn’t considered a demon to most people). The thing is, Fierce is too different from First. The core beliefs of protecting others isn’t gone, but the personality has changed. Fierce changed. But he does remember Hylia and the comfort she brought him.

I’m just gonna ramble about my Termina lore lol. Termina is a very stagnant place, very empty, and noticeably darker than Hyrule. Since so many demons and deities fought for power, a lot of sages in Termina used their magic to seal each deity and demon into masks. They couldn’t be destroyed, but they could be restrained. There’s superstition with masks since it’s believed that when you put on a mask, that deity or demon’s power is able to break free. The only way to ultimately free the demon from the mask is to destroy it. Luckily, the dangerous masks are hidden away, so most masks are harmless. Anyways, Majora was the most powerful demon and there was an ultimate battle between him and Fierce. In the end, Majora was sealed away, but because of Fierce’s power, he was sealed away as well since everyone feared his strange and neutral power. They didn’t know what he was capable of. The only deity that wasn’t sealed away was the mysterious Goddess of Time, and that’s cuz she never showed herself physically. She’s the ONLY deity that resides in Termina, but she’s not as powerful as the golden three (hence why she used to her time powers to draw in a hero from another world to save them from destruction if you catch my drift ;))

Now, I hinted at this in my fic with Fierce and Talon, but Fierce has grown bitter and hateful towards mortals. As First he was framed and imprisoned for years. As the FD, he was helpful and got sealed away. Mortals do not impress him in any way because they’re always selfish and unjust

But yeah, there’s a lot of lore surrounding my fierce and first haha XD I don’t care if I’m spoiling anything I’ve wanted to share this lore so bad. That’s why I’m stoked about playing MM so I can learn more about Termina more. To me, it CANT be another country in the world of Hyrule, I fully believe that it’s a parallel universe. But yeah.

TLDR; First’s spirit was taken and transformed into the Fierce Deity after he was left behind on the surface and taken to Termina since there was no godly influence to protect him. :)

[racheyace]

Mayday

G/t July day 10 – Alien

TW: some swearing, plane crash

Approx 2.3k words

Flying anywhere near Bermuda was never fun, the weather was so often unpredictable and even well-seasoned pilots with meticulous forward planning would still often get caught in the islands fluke storms. Raiden was currently navigating one of those such storms.

He was a solo pilot, and he preferred it that way, always seeing himself as a sort of lone wolf and taking carrier jobs where he could, this trip to Bermuda had been one of those such trips.

A devastating illness had been taking over the island recently and Raiden had been asked if he could deliver some much-needed supplies to the island.

The trip from Miami to Bermuda had been deceptively calm and he’d unloaded his cargo quickly and taken off again just as fast, headed back to Miami. Realistically he would be navigating dead East for most of the trip, skirting the dreaded Bermuda Triangle all together before then heading southeast to Miami.

Raiden himself never believed in the superstitions around the Bermuda Triangle, it’s been said that many pilots and sailors had gone into the triangle, never to return with no trace left behind. Raiden had always put that down to the chaotic weather systems within the triangle and not some supernatural force.

Even still, it was wise to keep away from the Triangle as much as possible.

Unfortunately for Raiden a rogue storm had seemingly come out of nowhere causing his navigation system to go haywire and steering him completely off course.

“Shit!” He flinched as some lightning struck his plane, causing the lights in the cabin to flicker.

Raiden glanced at the radar for the hundredth time, it blinked rather clearly, assuring him that the weather was clear and safe for flight.

“What the actual fuck is going on?” He growled at the radar, a supposedly reliable piece of equipment, capable of detecting storms nearby and navigating around them, not this time so it seemed. The sky had been clear when he’d left Bermuda an hour ago and then in an instant a bitch of a storm had formed around him.

Another bolt of lightning struck his plane this time proving more damaging, looking at the computer in front of him, the fuel tank light was blinking indicating that the lightning had damaged it.

“Mayday Mayday this is Saker 284 requiring immediate assistance!” Raiden shouted through the communication system, normally he’d have gone straight through to the Miami coms tower but he’d expanded the broadcast, hoping someone closer might be able to help.

Nothing but static. And he was losing altitude fast.

Archie’s day had started like any other, picking up his usual Mocha Latte from his favourite little café conveniently located just outside the airport before heading to work.

“Morning Arch, didn’t happen to get me one of those did ya? Nightshifts a fucking killer.” Kelsey groaned.

It was right on six o clock in the morning and time for change over in the air traffic control tower, Kelsey had drawn the short straw this week and had been given three-night shifts in a row. Looking at his coffee he felt a small amount of guilt that he hadn’t even thought of his poor colleague that morning.

“Sorry Kelsey, my mind was drifting this morning, busy night?” He asked, walking over to his computer, setting down his coffee and placing his headset on.

“Not really, though if it had been busier, it might have made the night go quicker, anyway I’ll head off, my bed is calling me!” She flashed him a tired smile before taking off her own headset and getting ready to leave.

“…mayday……mayday……assistance!” Archie’s eyebrows scrunched together in immediate concern, the voice in his headset was broken and full of static, he pressed some buttons to put the frequency on the loudspeakers and waved over the manager. Kelsey had also paused at the door and was watching with concern.

“Where’s the broadcast coming from?” Albert was the day shift manager, a large brooding man and a pain in the ass most of the time but under pressure no one could deny he knew what he was doing.

“I- I don’t know, the coordinates are going haywire it won’t zero in on his location.” Archie said watching his computer screen with interest, there was nothing on the radar currently, the next expected flight in this morning wasn’t due for another hour.

“Ask him his location.” Albert said bluntly.

“This is coms tower 349, please confirm your location.” Archie said calmly, though having Albert breathing down his neck didn’t help much.

“Saker 28… unknown…fuel tank’s gone….mayday” The line was broken and static continued to fill the speakers.

“There!” Archie pointed to the radar, an unknown aircraft had just appeared on it, seemingly out of nowhere, it was large, possibly a jumbo jet and it was only a few miles out and coming in at speed.

“I repeat this is Raiden Kalver aboard Saker 284, fuel tank is down and navigation system fried, requiring immediate assistance!” The voice on the line had become clearer now.

“Raiden, this is Archie Nugent in Coms Tower 349, we see you on our radar, the landing strip is to your left do you see it?” Archie asked urgently, the plane was fast approaching, heading straight for them.

“I see it, it’s too small I’ll miss it.” Raiden’s heart had stopped briefly when someone had responded to his call for help and then out of the fog he could see land below him, the storm had dissipated but now he was facing a whole new set of problems.

He’d lost basically all control of his plane, the left wing was smoking where the fuel had ignited it and he was going down, headed straight for an airport ironically.

“There’s a field directly behind the coms tower, veer to the right and slow down as much as possible, you should be able to make it.” Archie answered nervously.

They could see the plane in the distance now, the rumbling sound of the engine loud, they only had a minute or two and the plane would hit them if Raiden didn’t veer out of the way.

“Ahhhhhh!” Raiden yelled, his hand on the brake and pulling as hard as his sore arms would allow, veering to the right, the plane was turning slowly, and he could see the field beyond.

“BRACE! BRACE!” Albert shouted at the air traffic controllers that were still within the tower.

Archie remained frozen, watching with wide eyes as the huge plane sped toward them, it was veering to the right, and he gasped as the large wing glided over the coms tower missing it by an inch. A loud crash sounded out behind them, and Archie turned to see the plane had slammed into the ground, raining dirt and smoke all around.

“Get a med team down there now!” Albert shouted. “Good work Archie.” He gave him a thump on the back which reminded Archie that he still hadn’t taken in a breath.

Regaining his composure, Archie quickly climbed down the steps of the tower and followed the medical team, jumping onto their buggy without a word, he needed to see that Raiden was okay. That had been a close call for all of them and he imagined if Raiden was unhurt, he would at least be extremely shook up.

They approached the smoking plane and grew wary as it grew bigger and bigger as they got closer to it, Raiden hadn’t mentioned any other souls being on board. What was a plane this size doing here anyway, this wasn’t a major city by any margin, and it was extremely rare to get anything landing here besides a small passenger plane.

The aircraft was mostly mangled and it was hard to make out where the doors or even the cockpit were, they didn’t need to guess for long though.

A door at least fifty feet tall was pushed open roughly with a resounding bang and then a boot the size of a bus crashed down right beside the buggy. The medical team screamed and backed the buggy up only to bump right into a second boot.

“Holy shit.” Archie gasped, he jumped off the buggy and looked upward, a man, no a giant man stood taller than most of the buildings in his town.

Raiden had just crashed, he’d never crashed a plane before, he’d had some close calls in the past, but he’d never actually crashed. The force of the crash sent Raiden’s head slamming into the controls and after shaking the stars out of his eyes he looked around with urgency, the cabin was now filling with smoke, and he coughed as he pulled the handle on the door.

It wouldn’t budge so he threw his body at the door, kicking and punching it until it shifted just enough that he was able to pry it open. The sound of alarms rang from within the aircraft and Raiden quickly stepped out into the unfamiliar landscape.

Where the fields should have been green or brown even, he was surrounded by pale lilac coloured grass, something was not right. A sound came from where he’d placed his feet in the odd dark green dirt and he looked down, eyes widening immediately.

What looked like a toy golf buggy had just bumped into his boot and beside the buggy an impossibly small man stood staring up at him with wide eyes.

Raiden immediately took several steps backward away from the scene at his feet only to trip on the uneven ground and land roughly on his ass. The tremor caused by his fall could be seen as it tossed the small man to the ground and caused the buggy to tip over, more tiny people clambering out as a result.

“Man, I must have hit my head harder than I thought.” Raiden grumbled and put a hand to his still throbbing head.

Just when he was about to pinch himself, Raiden noticed the first little man he’d seen had now picked himself up off the ground and was walking cautiously toward him.

“A-are you Raiden?” The small voice reached his ears and he recognised it immediately as the man who had been on the intercom with him, Archie.

Raiden noticed now that the people weren’t exactly normal either, this little man’s skin was a pale green and his shaggy hair was a deep purple, where on earth had he landed? Was he even still on earth anymore?

“Yes.” Raiden answered, unsure of what else to do, they spoke English, he supposed that was a start, but he didn’t have any clue where he was or if these people could potentially be hostile.

“Are you okay?” Archie asked, stepping closer still, this man was so odd looking, his skin was a sickly cream colour and his hair a dull sort of brown, he’d never seen another person like him before, could he be an alien?

“Uh.” Was all Raiden could say before a loud bang like explosion came from the cockpit, the controls had now caught fire, they needed to get away now before the whole thing blew.

“Shit! It’s gonna blow!” Raiden warned urgently, he stood then ready to run and then remembered the little people wouldn’t be able to run as fast as he could.

“Ah, excuse me.” He said awkwardly as he grasped the small man Archie in a fast and scooped the rest around the buggy into his hands. With no time to marvel that about eight people were currently squashed between his hands, he held them to his chest and ran.

The aircraft finally engulfed by flames signalled it’s destructive end with a huge explosion, Raiden ducked down shielding the small people from the debris as it rained down around him. When the worst appeared to be over, he lowered his hands to the ground in front of him as the small people tumbled none too gently in the emerald soil.

“Sorry, I uh, I didn’t know what else to do.” He explained lamely.

Though the experience had been harrowing for Archie and the small team of medical crew, they were safely on land and largely unharmed save for a few bruises when the giant had squashed them together.

“He nearly killed us!” One of the medical crew shouted.

“He didn’t!” Archie shouted, though standing in the presence of someone so huge made his stomach church and his heart rate skyrocket, he found himself defending the injured pilot.

“In case you haven’t noticed, he crash landed here! He’s injured and despite everything he saved us from the explosion! So why don’t you do your damn job and check him over!” Archie couldn’t believe how authoritarian he sounded just then.

Though the giant was potentially dangerous, he’d done nothing thus far to show he meant any of them any harm. He could have left them there beside his aircraft, he could be an alien sent here to destroy them, but Archie didn’t think so. The mayday call had held real urgency, he didn’t think the giant had come here intentionally, wherever he had come from. He appeared just as shocked and confused as Archie and his colleagues did.

The medical crew stood shocked at Archie’s outburst, none of them moved an inch.

“Well!?” Archie urged, waving toward the giant who’d now laid down on his stomach to observe the small people better, and to be on more equal ground with them.

“It’s okay Archie.” Raiden spoke up then, noting the uneasy looks on the medical crews faces. “I’m not hurt, just a bump on the head really…uh but I do have some questions…” He said carefully.

“You and me both.” Archie laughed.

“I guess the main question is, where am I?”

I suck at endings, maybe because I never want them to end, so cliff hangers are a thing. Don’t worry this idea has been in my head for a loooong time, I have a whole story plotted out for these two but for the sake of G/t July and the theme of the day being ‘Alien’ I felt I owed it to you guys to share a snippet of this now. Hehe, stay tuned for more!

[cts-ryu-writing-desk]

Wedding Crasher

I started with a scene of a couple in the shower with the pregnant one getting sucked. And well aside from the scene itself, it needed a bit more. So of course there needed to be a birth scene with it.

Hope you guys enjoy this one!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The late morning sun shined through the partly open curtain into the hotel room. Micah groaned as the light beat down on his face. With heavy strain, he opened his eyes laying there and slowly opened his eyes. The night had been rough for him, it was filled with tossing and turning as sharp pains and discomfort plagued his attempts to sleep. Each time he tried to drift off, he would be jolted awake. He felt a surge of pain around his lower stomach as if the muscles were tightening to the point of causing pain. It would force him away and make it harder to get back to sleep. After such a restless night Micah groaned, trying to lift himself groggily. Scooting himself slowly out of the blankets and over to the edge.

As Micah sat on the edge of the bed. His hands wrapped around his rather large pregnant belly. He sat there looking at his tuxedo. It was still hours away from the ceremony. Finally getting to his feet, he waddled past his tux. It had alterations to make room for his ten-pound pregnant belly. He waddled and huffed over to the bathroom. Micah got the shower started. 

Micah adjusted the water to a more comfortable level for him, before stripping down and climbing in. Letting himself get lost in the running water crashing against his manly maternal body like rain. Micah let himself get lost in the sensation. He could feel it coming again. This surge of pain, but the water helped dull the sensation. He was so lost in it he didn't even notice the naked man climbing into the shower behind him. That was until the man’s arms wrapped around Micah's pregnant belly. Startling him out of his moment of peace.

“WHA-l?" Micah shouted 

He turned his head quickly. Surprised, he saw the stranger’s face. A nicely well-trimmed beard, chiseled features, and those hauntingly blue eyes. Micah knew them from anywhere. This naked man was his fiance, Val. Val pulled him closer to Micah’s body. Val’s arms cradling Micah and that huge baby bump; protectively while pressing gentle kisses on Micah’s cheek.

“Val? What are you doin-” Micah started softly over the water

Val was persistent in forcing his passion onto his pregnant fiancee. Kissing Micah’s neck and feeling up his body in all the ways Micah’s manly maternal body filled out. Micah could feel something poking into the underside of his pregnant belly. The hardness pressed against him. Val was very much aroused. Micah couldn't help reaching out to touch Val. His hands wandered his body and felt his veiny cock, throbbing, almost pulsing in Micah’s hand.

“Oh god,” Micah said softly

“Just one more,” Val said sweetly as he broke away from kissing on

"Val?" Micah spoke faintly, in a single burst of momentary defiance Micah broke free from Val’s growing passion. "Val, what are you doing? We're not supposed to see each other before the wedding!"

"I don’t care, I wanted to see you. Feel you," Val responded

Val’s words were enticing "But. But it's bad luck," Micah said

Val went back in again and kissed Micah passionately.

Breaking the passion momentarily for one last word in"I don't care about superstitions.”

Micah gave in to Val’s kiss. Their tongues engaged in a fervorous dance with one another. This simple act of passion ignited something new inside Micah, making his desire skyrocket, and causing his erection to grow harder than ever. Was it his hormones, or the water? Did he just want to feel his love one more time? Val’s erection continued to poke against Micah's pregnant belly.

Val broke the kiss, getting down to his knees. As if to himself Val spoke, “I’ve been far too neglectful of you my love,”

Val burying his face in Micah’s crotch. Micah could only feel Val’s lips kissing and caressing his cock. Making him moan in delight. Micah’s moaned. Val could taste the pre-cum Micah was oozing from his cock. It was like sweet nectar to Micah. It had been too long since he taste his lover’s cock. Micah’s cock fit nicely in Val’s mouth. The warmth was overwhelming to him.

“Oh god!” Micah moaned out in the shower.

The room felt like it was spinning spiraling Micah into his pleasures. He could already feel the pressure building inside of him.

“Val! Baby! Wait,” Micah let out

Val kept bobbing his head up and down on Micah’s cock. Val assaulted the tip of Micah’s cock. Micah could feel his cock throbbing from the sensation. The head of his cock flaring. He was on the edge. He could feel it. He was going to cum. Val didn’t let up. Micah whimpered. A passionate scream suddenly as he filled Val’s mouth with his cum. Val swallowed every last drop Micah’s balls could produce.

Micah felt weak coming down from his sudden high. Val placed his hand gently on Micah's swollen belly followed by his forehead letting the water wash over him. He could feel Micah's hands reaching at the top of his head. Val got to his feet. Going in for a kiss with Micah once again.

Breaking their kiss Micah said breathy "I love you,"

"I love you too," it was clear Val wanted more.

Micah put his hand on Val’s chest. Shaking his head. "Not now," Micah said softly

"When?" Val grunted in Micah’s ear

"After the ceremony," Micah told Val. Struggling to resist the urge to feel his fiancé. 

Micah could feel Val’s hard throbbing cock brushing up against him. He wanted to touch it. Val wouldn't let him. "I'm saving every drop." He got in close growling at Micah. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard, we induce your labor."

Micah became immediately flustered. His already spent and shriveling cock pulsed with life again. "Oh god," Micah’s voice was shaky.  Val took some soap and rubbed down all of Micah’s body. The touch of his hands, the feeling of his lips, the crashing of the water droplets against him. It was intense. Micah was practically whimpering loudly over the running water.  

When Val was done washing Micah, he turned off the water. The two stood there blanketed in the steam. Micah called Val a tease as Micah wrapped a towel around his wrist. He was leaving his bare pregnant belly exposed. A wicked smile came over Val’s face. Handing over a towel to his fiance, Val told Micah, "You bet your sweet ass,"

Micah's heart was in a flutter. The two needed to get ready their wedding ceremony was closing in fast. 

"Micah?" An older man's voice called out

Micah perked up, it was his dad. "I just got out of the shower Dad,"

Micah peaked his head out.

Micah’s dad came around the corner quickly spitting Val. "Couldn't wait huh?"

Micah blushed. Val played it off.

Looking at Micah, his dad replied, "Your dad and I were the same way."

Micah blushed. Val reached for Micah's hand. Micah's dad was continuing the thought of his wedding to Micah’s birth dad. Then suddenly Micah felt something. A wet feeling, and a sudden sound of water trickling to the carpeted floor. Micah and Val both looked down at the small pool soaking into the carpet. Micah’s dad paused. They all looked in shock as Micah's heart sank. 

"Oh god," Micah let out

"Was that?" Val asked

"Oh lord," Micah's dad said

"That was my water." Micah started to get into a panic "Oh God the baby's coming

A single frustrated "Fuck," left Val’s voice.

Val’s dad fiddled into his pocket trying to pull out his phone. Micah needed to get to the hospital. And something needed to be done about the guests gathering for their wedding ceremony. Micah wasn't due to pop for another two weeks. He didn't have anything ready. His hospital bag still being at their apartment. 

That moment dragged on. They needed an ambulance and quick. Micah couldn't go out naked into the hotel. Someone needed to get to the plaza where their ceremony was being held. Micah started to feel contractions beginning. Everything would need to happen quickly. 

"I'll tell the guests," Val said boldly. "Dad, you need to make sure Micah gets to the hospital. I'll handle everything here and be there as quickly as I can."

"No Val, I want you with me,"  Micah said, grabbing hold of Val’s arm.

Wrapping a hotel robe around him as best as they could they got Micah into the elevator. Val was half dressed wearing gray sweatpants.

"Ambulance will be in the lobby in ten minutes. They're coming as fast as they can." Micah's dad told them as the door closed.

The moment the two of them were alone Micah apologized. "Sorry, you blue balled yourself, babe,"

"It's okay," Val told him, "We'll make up for it later." 

Another contraction hit Micah as they got to the lobby. Micah screamed. He had never had a high pain tolerance to begin with. A bellhop and a front desk worker rushed over. They were called about the situation. With a wheelchair at the ready, they got Micah inside and rushed him to the lobby where the ambulance was pulling in. 

Micah screamed again as he got in. Micah was oblivious to the paramedics' questions. Val answered them all. He was in the early stages. His contractions just started. 

"Okay, we'll bet you there as soon as we can,"

And they were off.

The ambulance took off as they asked Micah in between contractions. It was several minutes. But he wasn't sure exactly how long. 

 "I had been feeling little cramps all night," he said innocently enough

"Those were probably labor pains sir," the paramedic replied

A contraction rushed over Micah. Giving the paramedics time to measure. It was pretty obvious how Micah's face showed the strength of the pain.

"Why didn't he say something," Val thought to himself hiding Micah's hand tightly

"I didn't think it was this," Micah said emotionally

Another contraction, this one came quicker. The ambulance darted through traffic, its sirens wailing. Another one hit him minutes later as they stopped. They had arrived.

A team of nurses got Micah from the paramedics and rushed him to delivery. The baby was starting to descend through Micah's birth canal. He was prepped quickly and his doctor arrived minutes after the procedure was to have started. “Alright let's deliver us a baby,” she said

Micah did as he was told and kept his breathing up. Relax his body. Don't tense up. His whole lower body hurt. He was whimpering as Val stayed close and held his hand tightly. Micah could feel the baby moving lower and lower.

“Alright Micah, give me a big push. On three. One. Two. Three. Push!” His doctor said to him

Micah prepared and pushed on just his lower body he could feel the baby pressing on his asshole stretching it slightly. His doctor encouraged one more. One big one. Micah was in tears whimpering to Val about how much it hurt. 

“You can do it,” Val encouraged holding Micah tightly

Micah readied. Deep breathes. One. Two. Three. And push. He was getting red in the face. But he was making great progress the baby was successfully crowning and as soon as he relaxed and tried to take a breath the head came popping out. Quite a surprise to everyone.

A nurse held up a mirror to try and let the expecting fathers see. Micah got a look at it and he could see the doctor checking the umbilical cord. She moved it away as the baby got it wrapped around them on the way out. With gentle hands, they braced the baby's head, “Alright Micah! Give us a few more pushes.” His doctor said

He counted aloud with his doctor. One, two, three push. He struggled his waist feeling numb and he was already hurting so much. After catching his breath Micah counted and readied to push. 

“Keep going the shoulders almost free.”

“I can't,” Micah said weakly

Val didn't give up, “you can! You've been waiting for this day. Now let's get our baby here and into your arms.”

Val was right. This was something Micah would talk about romantically. On the day of the delivery, how cute his baby would be. Micah nodded, as he readied himself. “one more,”

“yup one more and make it a big one.” his doctor replied

“big one,” he said back to her

They counted down from three. Deep breath. Two. Deep breath. One. Squeeze Val’s hand tightly and push. Micah grunted as he tried to push one more time. At the apex of his scream, the pressure was gone. Micah lay there weakly. Happy cheers filled the delivery room.

Micah heard it then. It was the only sound that was new, the only sound he'd waited to hear. It was their baby, crying. Micah got teary-eyed hearing it. As the doctor carefully passed the baby over to Micah he couldn't hold it back anymore. He cried and he cried about how beautiful their son was.

“It's a -” the doctor's voice was drowned out by Micah crying

“What?” He asked through his whining

“It's a girl!” The doctor exclaimed loudly

“A girl!” Micah said as he broke out into more tears than before.

Micah, Val, and their baby girl were eventually cleaned up and taken to a maternity room for Micah to rest. Their little girl Ashley was born nineteen and a half inches and weighed nine pounds twelve ounces. The rest of the day Micah rested and Val got to spend some time along with his newborn daughter.

The next day their family came to see them. No one close was upset about the canceled wedding. After all, as Micah's birth father put it, “This was more important,”

A week later after Micah was discharged and was able to stand alone again he walked down the aisle to be married to the love of his life. Daughter swaddled cozily cradled in his arms they took their vows to one another, a ring and a kiss. Made them official, but it was Ashley's arrival that made them a family.

[paingoes]

Crash Out

Superstition 

hi. this is personally my favorite part so far. hope u enjoy it too :)

(Content: drugs, bad trip, paranoia, psychosis, discussion of institutionalized child abuse and death, discussion of past abuse, blood, burns, guilt)

“Okay so we have to take it at the same time so our trips sync up.”

“I know. I’ve done it before.”

“How much are you gonna take?”

“We can just split it.”

“That seems like a lot.” 

Lorelai rotated the froot in her hand. She stabbed along the ring with the scout’s knife, revealing the soft green flesh within. The juice dripped down onto her arm. She resisted the urge to lick it up before they could agree on the dosage. 

“I think we split half. We can take more later if it’s not strong enough.” She worked the knife carefully through the half of it. She gave the quarter piece to Paris and took the other for herself. She stashed the unused half back into the cooler bag. 

“It’ll feel weird if you take more while you’re already tripping. Not pleasant.” He ate the piece he’d been given anyway. She took her own into her mouth. The texture was surprisingly gritty. Little seeds got caught in her teeth. It tasted salty and earthen. She set her timer.

“Okay, onset is an hour or so?” She glanced up at the orange sky. “We’ll be inside by then, probably. It’ll kick in just as it’s getting dark out. Spooky!”

=========

It was an entire hike just to reach the site. The main road was swarming with cop cars. Every other path was carved through the thick wood. In the darkening light, the edges of the dirt road blended in with the foliage. They saw several people passing through, just as lost as they were. Lorelai jumped as the bear trap caught on the raised heel of her boot, just missing her foot.

“Aaaaa?” She yelled softly, mostly in confusion. Paris bent down to undo it. 

“How did that miss you?” He squinted. The mechanism jammed shut again with a loud clanging noise. It was rusted in places, visibly worn down by the elements. He was surprised it still worked.

“Fast reflexes.” She unhappily examined the new dent in her shoes. 

The venue came into sight as the tree line withered. It was a large stone building — or it used to be. The walls were jagged and uneven at the top, the same shape as torn paper. The second story was gone, along with the ceiling.  Thick vines and lichen grew along the stone perimeter. Lorelai said they were fighting for dominance. It looked like the lichen was winning.

The inner walls weren’t faring any better. It seemed like there might have been plaster once, but all that remained now was stone. There were marks on the ground where other walls had been. Someone had long ago removed them to make more space to party. The only real structures inside were the DJ booth by the north wall and the bar on the east one. Where the ceiling had been before, there were now just rails that lights could hang from. 

It was dark when they approached — and the music had already started. People poured out onto the lawn and into the woods, drifting in and out of the fortress as they pleased. Security was lax and the walls were porous enough to facilitate the exchange.

His teeth hurt. The two of them did their traditional act, drifting in and out of each other’s spaces as the night progressed. Crowd anonymity was a wondrous thing. It made him tolerate the presence of other bodies in the space and the indignity of motion. The drugs helped with that too. Then they didn’t. 

He felt something slip away, some invisible measure of protection he could not name. Eyes, again. Of course there were. People were everywhere. Under the strobe, they all looked pale and corpselike. He remembered a story he had read a long time ago about the girl who only danced with the dead. He’d had his fair share of ghost stories; sailors loved shit like that, soldiers even more. 

He had not expected it to crawl. When he’d eaten the froot before, it had hit him all at once, and receded not too long after. It was fun, if a bit underwhelming. This high had creeped up so slowly that for the first two hours he did not even realize it had arrived. He imagined his own thoughts to be normal and uncontaminated. All it was was just unease and unease and the dead left there too. He thought he felt something shift just beneath his feet, but all that was there now was dirt. He was surer than anything that he was being watched, him specifically. He pulled off from the crowd and out through one of the jagged holes in the wall. Grass grew there. He walked without aim. 

There were enough people on the outskirts that he didn’t really feel like he was leaving the party, even as he drifted further and further from the building. He saw them all looking at him strangely as he passed; he would not learn until later he had been talking to himself the entire time. He would never learn what it was he had said. He ended up by the woods, still certain of something creeping and stalking and watching endlessly. Something was wrong. The dirt slipped out from beneath him and on purpose.

Something long and thin stuck out of the ground. He had thought it was a leg until he saw what it was attached to. It was top heavy, two legged, nearly furry with moss. The sign post was as overgrown as the building it described, but the letters were still readable beneath it. He stared up at it from where he was collapsed on the ground, reading it over and over and over again.

Beldam Institute. B-E-L-D-A-M I-N-S-T-I-T-U-T-E. He read it again, just to be sure. Beldam Institute.

“Oh fuck,” he muttered to himself, unknowingly interrupting the string of words he had already been muttering to himself.

He’d had his fair share of ghost stories; sailors loved shit like that, soldiers even more. Soldiers liked to think there was a life after death. They liked to think the people they killed would stay stuck there in the place where they had killed them, forever, their souls tethered to the earth and stood on display for all eternity. Tales of weeping ghosts and the undead children that searched endlessly for their murderers, reading to rend them limb from limb. Trapped together in the place where they had killed them, forever, their souls tethered to the earth and stood on display for all eternity. History couldn’t end, not really. History ate them all whole. The ground was heavy with bodies. 

“They buried them in the lawn the first few years,” Delta had admitted quietly, at the end of a long night, after Paris had spent hours prodding. It was the most he would ever say about it and the last time Paris would ever ask. “They had to stop, though. They ran out of space.”

His hand brushed up against something dry and brittle and thin like finger bones.

=========

“Whoa, whoa, buddy.” There were hands on his shoulders, trying unsuccessfully to stop him from flailing. Some douche with a tie wrapped around his forehead was trying to be helpful. He heard his own voice, but he couldn’t make out the words. His throat was hoarse and painful. 

“Here. Smell.” The dude held up a small piece of chalky material.

“Getthefuckoffme-“ Paris rasped. His hands were bloodied, somehow.

“You’re okay,” He pressed the chalk up to his own nose, taking a deep inhale, showing it was safe. Paris crawled back a few inches, breathing still irregular, fingers still twitching. The dude offered the chemical back up. Paris reluctantly hit it. The headrush was immediate, overpowering.

“Fuck.” He fell back onto the dirt. There was soil under his nails and furrows in the ground. 

“What’d he take?” A girl’s voice asked. He didn’t realize she’d been standing there. She was leaning back again the sign, totally oblivious to its meaning.

“This is a fucking mass grave,” Paris yelled, or tried to. His voice broke. “The bones are pushing up. Look!”

“That’s a stick.”

Paris collapsed flat on his back again, covering his eyes.

Only then did the two of them seem to notice the sign. The girl pushed off of it, clearing the view, studying the lettering.

“Hang on, I gotta look something up,” the dude said. The clearing was briefly lit in ghostly blue as he pulled out his phone. He typed slowly and methodically. Paris knew from experience that he was having trouble seeing the screen just a few inches from his face.

“Oh. Huh. Yeah, that’s what it is.” He nodded, looking perturbed. “I’d probably trip out if I saw some shit like that too, man. That’s wacky.”

Another set of footsteps approached without rhythm.

“I’m tripping balls,” Lorelai said. She had the gait of a baby deer. “Lol, is this where the party is?”

“Is this your man?” The girl asked.

“We’re all working through our feelings about institutionalization together,” the dude explained, “Your friend is having what we call a hard time.”

“What?” Lorelai collapsed down onto the mound just beside him. She pulled his head into her lap, combing her fingers through his hair. He wrapped his arms around her waist, totally helpless to do anything else.

“Beldam Institute. Where Delta went. It’s where they make them,” he muttered.

“Are you serious?”

They showed her the e-ncyclopedia page. Her jaw dropped.

“Wow. Oh my god, what are the odds? And they throw parties here? That’s…in very poor taste? Wow. What the hell. Wow.” She shook her head. He worried for a second she was getting caught in a thought loop. He made a silent vow to never taste froot again.

Yet another set of footsteps approached. 

“You guys good over here?” A wavering voice asked. Keys jingled loudly. For an awful moment, he thought it was the cops.

“Are you two the organizers?” Lorelai asked, “Why did you throw a rave where a bunch of children got tortured?”

“You’re talking about the Institute? I’m so glad you asked,” The other’s voice was slick, “We did a whole thesis on it. It’s a transformative project. We’re revitalize the space and making a statement on its history. All our proceeds go to our mutual aid fund for marginalized groups. We do it in the spirit of resisting imperial order.”

“Their bodies are still buried in the yard,” Paris muttered.

“What did he say?”

“He said their bodies are still buried in the yard,” the dude responded.

“That seems really fucked up,” the girl chimed in.

“We’ve been very conscientious about the whole thing,” the slick one responded, “I know it’s a lot to process, especially if one is, uh, open to the influences. Not exactly a pleasant trip environment. But that’s history for you.”

“Is he gonna be okay?” The girl asked.

“Yeah, he’s just sensitive.” Lorelai twirled his hair between her fingers. “I wonder if there was a basement?”

“There was,” the wavering one confirmed, “It was mostly cleared out by the time we got here. Very hush-hush. But we salvaged some stuff for the archive.”

Far away, the music changed. Lorelai shook his shoulder gently.

“Get up. I wanna dance.” Her voice was all swimmy. He can’t tell if the interference was on her part or his. She dragged him out of the woods and back onto the floor.

Despite how awkwardly she had stumbled, how failing her walk seemed to be, she danced with a surprisingly fluidity even in her drugged state. The air itself was fluid, heady, warm. He danced with her, quite sure she had never once looked like this before, that she never would again. The shaking in his own body stopped and the headache replaced it. All of it was dull and distant. There were whispers at the edge of it. Maenad, they warned.

Very abruptly, she dropped to her knees.

“Oh fuck,” she clutched her head, “I can see it.”

Paris half led, half carried her outside of the walls. She collapsed down on the dirt, looking all around her. Paris pulled the fur hat off her head. It was slick with sweat.

“Oh my god, I felt it. I think I saw the face of it. It was everywhere I looked. I could feel all the misery trapped inside of the walls.”

For a minute, he swore he could make out a skull and crossbones inside of her pupils. He hated froot. She looked terrifying.

He twisted the bottle open and held out both of her arms. The water poured over her exposed skin, bringing her temperature back down. She closed her eyes.

“More,” she said.

He poured the water over her forehead, letting it run down her face, smudging her makeup. She pulled her hair back in a bun. He poured the water down her neck. She gave a ticklish giggle.

“Oh, god,” she said, totally lost. He pushed the bottle into her hands. She poured the rest of it all down her throat.

===========

In spite of everything, the afterglow was incredible. They’d made it back to the room in one piece. He understood what the guides had meant about the aura. Everything felt soft and glowing. It wasn’t euphoric, nor to the point of mania. Just pleasant and calm. 

He could tell Lorelai felt it too, all smiles in the ship, even more after she showered. They both needed it badly, even without the time spent in the woods. The smell of smoke and alcohol had clung heavily to both of them. He washed the dirt out of his hair, his own blood from beneath his fingernails. The motel’s soap was scented lavender; he was sure he wouldn’t have noticed it before, but in the moment everything felt novel.

She’d crawled onto his chest when he laid down again, angling the phone so they both could watch. Some animated thing he couldn’t pay attention to. The colors were more vivid than they were probably meant to be. All he could focus on was her hair, the way the curls sprung back into place when he played with them. She nuzzled her face into his shoulder.

“Are you upset about Delta?”

Her voice was sleepy and entirely innocent. It was such a fucked up thing to ask when his walls are down. He’d been trying so hard to avoid it. She was a surgeon sometimes.

“I…feel bad that he died,” Paris admitted, “I don’t think it was my fault the way it happened. I didn’t know. But he was my responsibility. And I-” 

He cut himself off. It took him a while to find the words.

“…I don’t know. I hope it was quick. I hope he didn’t suffer.”

The image of Delta chained up and alone while that ship was going down flooded his mind. He squeezed her hand tighter.

Lorelai hummed, “You said it was a rebel attack? Did they say which one?”

“Their guess was Galatea.”

“Hm. Do you think he was the target? It seems a little terroristic for their taste otherwise.”

“They shouldn’t have known about him. All the intelligence just listed him as machinery for a reason. There was nothing in writing to indicate that he was alive.” He’d never had to write any of it himself, but he did read over the field reports. The opacity they achieved was impressive. Critical temperature reached. Damage to internals. Improvised shutdown. There was no good way to talk about it.

“You really didn’t have a file on him?” She clearly found this difficult to believe.

“His doctor did. It was carryover from the institute. It didn’t make it into imperial record. Not mine, anyway.”

“…It just seems like an odd thing for them to do.” There was nothing short of reverence in her voice when she spoke of the resistance. She was struggling reconcile the two thoughts. She had liked Delta a lot. He could see her there, trying to reconcile a lot of things.

==========

She’d had to track them down the next morning — and after that, she’d had to bribe — but she secured one of the large albums they had rescued from the basement. She flipped through the pages as she sat in the passenger seat. Most of it was typed, but a lot of it was written, and all of it was in thick and outdated Latin that she struggled to decipher even as a native speaker. It was the pictures she was really focused on, though.

In some of the photos, it just looked like a normal boarding school. The kids were lined up in rows or going about their day. There were photos of the classrooms and the yard. The next page over, there were photos of the laboratory and the operating room. There were straps visible on the table and along the chairs. 

In the training section, the pictures of the students were spliced indiscriminately with the pictures of their victims. Violence marked the both of them. On their victims, burns covered every inch of their skin. Their bodies were twisted at odd angles like they were toys bent out of shape. They wore bags over their head and chains around their ankles. 

On the students, the injuries were more subtle. Schoolyard incidents. Short circuits. Disciplinary infractions. Some of the worst ones showed scars tracing up and down their limbs, disappearing beneath the fabric of their uniform. In some, the scars were in the shape of flames. Some were shaped like vines. Most commonly, they were shape of electric discharge. Eyes and fingers were missing, even in the otherwise calm shots. 

“Oh.” Lorelai let out a soft sigh. “That’s him, isn’t it?”

She plucked the photo out from the plastic lining, bringing it up into the light. She held it so that Paris could see. 

The picture was taken on the side of a hill. The terrain was marked by large scorch marks. A giant dead thing laid in the center of it, the arc of its long neck spiraling out of sight behind the mass of its body. Several kids surrounded it, some crawling over it, others bent down and poking at it. They were all dressed for safari. One of them stood off to the side of the corpse’s thick tree-trunk legs. His hair hung in a long braid down his back, nearly sweeping the ground. His hand was wrapped tight with gauze. Delta couldn’t have been more than ten years old. There was the same frightful intensity behind his eyes, even back then. He was staring straight into the camera.

“Yeah.” Paris looked away from it. “That’s him.”

There were no other photos of him in the album.

…………

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety

[pacifymebby]

Cinnamon Girl / Bonnie Gold

Okay so this is a little one shot I wrote for @jomarch-wannabe and her follower celebration writing challenge!!!! Congratulations lovely, thank u for being such a bright little light in our writing community and also for being such a lovely friend to me!!! You were one of the first people to message me about my work and to become my friend on here <3 <3 <3

TW: cheating and vague reference to domestic violence. I went for my classics, hurt comfort and bonnie gold hehe.

🌜🍀🌛 🌜🍀🌛

You were kissing, it was secret, early evening. He held your cheek in the cupped palm of his hand and as his tongue pushed against yours he could taste cinnamon between your teeth.

You'd snuck away from your work mending holes in trousers and socks with the other girls your age to meet Bonnie in the woodlands when he was returning from his own work in the city. You didn't really know what it was the older lad did these days, it wasn't like your families to spend too long in the city doing business with gorjas and when he came home covered in scrapes and bruises, sometimes worse, you couldn't help but worry that he was getting himself involved in more than just a couple of boxing matches and a little horse trading.

Still, you didn't ask questions. That was part of the deal you shared. This unspoken pact, a set of rules which all tied into this secret love you shared. If you didn't ask questions about the city, Bonnie wouldn't ask you any difficult questions either.

Like when you were going to leave your boyfriend.

Or what you were doing sneaking around with him when you already had a man who loved you. A man who had recently begun hovering around you, standing over you like a shadow whenever he so much as caught you looking at Bonnie across the fire in the evenings.

No, it was better not to ask questions. Lately you'd developed an almost obsessive superstition over your secrets, convinced that the only reason you still had this slither of happiness to hold onto was that you were good at keeping secrets. That if either of you ever broke your unspoken rule and asked a difficult question of the other it would all fall apart. You would be discovered holding hands by one of the girls. Your mother would catch you kissing in the shade of the willow when she was walking with your younger brothers and sisters down by the river. Your father would follow you when you snuck out of the vardo in the early morning to meet Bonnie down where the wild herbs grew.

Someone would find you out. Something terrible would happen and you would lose everything you loved.

It was only a shame then that Bonnie didn't agree. A shame that the longer this unaddressed silence dragged on between you the further from you he felt. The more concerned he grew when you flinched away from his touch or got that fearful look in your eyes when you saw him with bruised and bloodied knuckles after a fight. When he found a new bruise on your wrist or arm, one which looked eerily like the bruises he returned with when he'd been in the ring.

No, the only reason Bonnie hadn't asked you any difficult questions yet was that he didn't know which difficult question to start with. He had a feeling you were keeping so many dark secrets hidden away behind those sad eyes, so many more than he wanted to imagine.

But the longer he stayed quiet, the longer he kept his questions swallowed down, the more scared of your answers he became and the further away from him you drifted. If things carried on like this one of these days you were going to flinch away from his kiss and never return to him. He felt as though you were slipping through his fingers and he'd never forgive himself if he let you get lost.

So that morning he'd made a vow to himself, a vow of honesty. He was going to tell you the truth about his work and then he was going to ask you to be just as honest with him. He couldn't keep watching you drift downstream further and further from his reach. So he was going to be honest, he was going to throw you a bit of driftwood truth to hold onto.

Only its easier to make vows to yourself in the hope of the morning, than it is to keep them in the evening when the sun is setting and your time is running out.

So you were kissing. He held your face in both hands, calloused palms holding you firm but gentle, as though you were the most precious girl in the world. Because to him you were.

He'd brought you a cinnamon bun back from the city as a gift and the two of you had shared it like children, sitting side by side under the willow tree that had become your favourite hiding place recently. You'd had a little blob of icing on your chin and he'd felt king of the whole world - never mind the boxing ring - when he'd brushed it up with his thumb and you'd sucked it clean, shyly taking his thumb between your lips and swirling your tongue around the sweet icing.

When you'd looked up you'd blushed to see him smiling at you and he'd cupped your cheek with his hand and leant in for a kiss you'd not pulled away from since. The two of you leaning further into one another, your hands gripping the collar of his shirt and then the hair at the back of his neck. His body was moving with yours, neither of you able to get as close to the other as you'd have liked, even when your teeth met his, clumsy and teenage, the kind of kiss of naive, first loves. And neither of you were naive. You were beginning to think that perhaps you were really in love for the first time. That is to say, in real love for the first time.

With your eyes shut, your nose pressed against his, his fingers gripping your cheeks as he held you close, you felt all thoughts blur, your mind soft white and daydreamy. It was bliss, the most comfortable you'd ever felt, your legs only untangling with his so that you could wrap them around his waist, so that he could lay your head down gently on the moss as he hovered above you on the downy woodland floor.

You opened your eyes for a moment, just to catch a glimpse of him, just to smile at the sight of his.

And then it happened again. His teeth grazed your bottom lip dragging you in closer to him, drawing a little whimper of pleasure from you, your desire running away with you for a second, snapping you out of the pleasant haze. Reminding you who you were and what would happen if the man you belonged to ever found out about this. The man your heart belonged to.

You went stiff in his arms, pulling away from him and pushing him away. Your lips left his and clamped tight shut, your eyes no longer flowing with love but with something like regret, something distant and sad and no matter how many times Bonnie tried to coax your gaze back to his, you wouldn't look him in the eyes.

So he fell away from you and leant against the thick roots of the willow, his head resting on one beside you which jutted out of the ground. You pulled your knees up to your chest and looked away from him, out at the river, the little drops of rain which disturbed the surface. His dark curls fell into his eyes as he pushed himself up on his elbows and looked up at you, silently willing you to turn around, to look at him and realise how desperate he was beginning to get.

"Alright," he said with a sigh, looking up at you, watching your hair move like a sigh around your shoulders when the breeze stirred between you. "Alright little dove this has gone on long enough," he said, his voice dark and tired but still gentle. It was that soft tone, almost sad, that made you turn around. You were trying to feign confusion, brows knitted, and because he could tell that things were pretty delicate, hanging by a thread, he let you get away with it. Pretended to believe in your feigned naivety.

"Don't like keeping secrets from you," he said with a small shrug, his own expression so serious then, so shadowed.

You remained quiet, your heartbeat quivering with anxiety as you chewed your bottom lip and tried to concentrate on breathing steady. On not crying. This was it, you could tell. He was going to ask you something difficult. You were going to lose him.

"The work I've been doin in the city..."

"Bonnie you don't have to tell me that," you said quickly, one last attempt at saving the two of you.

"I'm not tellin you cause I think I have to love," he said with a little chuckle laced with despair, "I'm tellin you cause I want to!' He said. His own final attempt at saving the two of you.

"But..."

"No," he said sitting up, one hand leant on in the dirt, the other daring to reach for yours which was lingering by your nervous mouth. "I don't like keepin secrets from you..." He said again, his voice lower, quieter, softer than it had been the last time he'd said those words to you. His eyes held yours and you were scared to find you couldn't look away, didn't want to tear yours from his.

"The work I've been doin in the city with me da, it's dangerous... Been workin for a gang dove, they're called the Peaky blinders they're..."

"Fuck Bonnie they're...they're..." You lost your words, the words which sprung to mind and set your heart beating too hard too fast in your chest too cruel for you to say out loud. Bonnie smirked bitterly.

"Criminals, thieves...murderers? Believe me I know dove... I ain't exactly proud of it y'know? I know it ain't right trust me... it's just the only way..." He said hollowing his cheek as he turned away and looked up at the trees mournfully, when he looked back at you you couldn't find any words for him. You were quickly realising now that you didn't know how to be honest with him - the most honest lad in the world.

"Ain't anythin else I can do..." He said looking at you with those dark and serious eyes, looking as though he were begging your forgiveness. Your mistake was in thinking he was asking your forgiveness for working with Birminghams most notorious criminals and not for what he was about to say to you...

"Bit like this..."

"What?" Your voice hardly sounded, the word lost to the space between you. But Bonnie could read your lips. Could see them trembling.

"This..." He said pointing his finger down into the dirt between the two of you. For a second he watched the soil he displaced and then he looked up at you. This time he didn't look away. "Me and you."

"Bon..." You started to say, a choked sob in your throat, your breath caught on the sorrowful lump. Even if he hadn't interrupted you you wouldn't have been able to speak.

"No," he said sitting forward a little, eyes locked with yours, voice still ever so gentle, so laden with care, "no don't say anythin little dove, not if you're gonna deny it... This between me an you you know it ain't right, you're an honest girl y/n I know you are so you know this ain't right, all this sneakin around, all these secrets we're keepin... I don't like it and neither do you I know you don't but... How can you be honest with everyone else if you ain't even honest with me..." he trailed off. He didn't look bitter, didn't look as though he were angry with you but his words had been. Bitter, angry. The kind of words which almost always lead to goodbye.

You tried hard to fight back a sob, your eyes brimming with tears you were determined not to cry. You opened your mouth to speak but when a sob escaped you clasped your hand to your mouth starring back at Bonnie in hurt and in shock.

He looked back, his own lips pressed tightly together, his own eyes a little watery, a little too emotional.

"Why are we doin this dove?" He asked, "you ain't engaged to him, you ain't even promised to him... You could leave him, could be with me the way two people are meant to be together..."

His eyes held something like hope holding on by a very thin thread.

You just shook your head. Longed to tell him how much you wished he was right. How desperately you wished you could just leave.

"Why?" He asked, his voice raised, teeth gritted in frustration for a moment before he realised and settled back down, forced himself to relax. "Why dove?" He asked softer then, those dark eyes a swell of emotion, troubled water eyes watching you, searching yours desperately for the truth.

You shook your head and placed your hands down in the dirt, fingers spread in the soil as you moved to push yourself up on your shaking legs. You were going to runaway again, you were going to put that final distance between you so that you would never be able to find your way back to one another.

Bonnie felt his chest tighten as you wobbled, his hand shooting out to rest on top of yours, his gaze holding yours imploring you to stay still. To sit back down in the dirt. You hesitated, couldn't drag your eyes from his. Couldn't ignore how much you wanted to tell him everything.

"Don't do that..." He warned, "don't go little dove, I didn't start this to lose you so don't runaway from me now..."

You bit your lip, pressed your palm to your eye to try and catch your tears unable now to stop them falling thick and fast.

"There's..." you started voice catching on a sob which took over and left you shaking your head. It was no good, you couldn't tell him...

"What love?"

"There's..." Again your voice caught in your throat, your heart racing, your mind racing too.

There's things I'd like to say to you but I'll just let you live...

That was what you wanted to say to him, that was what you wanted to tell him so that he'd give in, let you go. Go and find himself a good girl, a happy girl who didn't keep so many troublesome secrets.

But you couldn't bring yourself to say it, couldn't bring yourself to push him away because you loved him. Because his hand resting on your hand in the dirt was the only thing keeping you grounded. He was the only person who could look you in the eyes and see past all the lies, all the faked smiles.

You thought you'd been doing so well to keep your secrets for so long and yet now here you were, realising that Bonnie Gold had known all along. Seen through your little act. That he was the only one who really saw you at all.

"There's..." You tried again but you couldn't find the words and bonnie was beginning to lose hope. You were so close to him, so close to telling him the truth. He couldn't let you go now.

"C'mon little dove, talk to me sweetheart... I know you're trying to hide from me y/n, can feel it, you're always tryna keep me at arms length, always holdin somet back... But I don't wanna love you like that..."

He trailed off again, watched as you crumpled before him, your knees digging into the dirt as you dropped back to the ground, no longer hovering between staying or running away.

You sat lookin down at your skirts all covered in dirt. Felt helpless. Sniffled and took a breath, knowing that you'd lose him forever if you didn't speak now.

"There's things I wanna say to you Bonnie..." You said, shaking your head, giving up. A flash of desperation shooting through your body. A flash of desperation he saw in your eyes when you snatched his hands up out of the soil and placed them to your cheeks, held them there a little too tightly for a little too long without saying a word.

All Bonnie could do was look back at you a little hesitant, a little nervous. You were shaking, your hands clutching his, pressing his to your flushed cheeks. Your tears gathered at his fingertips.

"When you hold me like this..." You started, "you're... You're always so..." You trailed off again, a lump in your throat as you thought of the man you had at home. The one you should have been with. The one you feared with all your heart.

You were scaring him but Bonnie didn't say a word. Just slipped one hand free from beneath yours,pressed your own palm to your cheek, stroking his fingers gently over your knuckles.

"You hold me without hurting me..." You confessed, your chest squeezing so tight that for a moment you couldn't breath and then, as the words left your lips you felt the air return to you, the squeeze released, the weight on your shoulders lift.

"You're the first who ever did..."

For a moment then there was quiet, just your hand holding his against your flushed cheeks, his hand holding yours there too. The two of you looking back at one another ragged and emotional. His heart aching just as yours had been aching now for so long because he finally understood you.

There were tears in his eyes and he tried to blink them away. His hand which was resting on top of yours squeezing you for a second, not to remind himself that you were still there but to prove to you that he was. Still there.

He drew in a breath, sharper than he'd have liked, shakier than he'd have liked. It hurt to look at you. Hurt to look and to see you in such obvious pain. The anguish in your eyes riddling him with his own.

"Fuck," he smirked sadly, his voice a little edgy, his eyes hardening a little, moody and stubborn as he moved to get closer to you, shifting himself to sit beside you, his hand smoothing down your neck, his other holding your head and drawing you into his embrace as he spoke with a quiet determination.

"Don't cry dove," he said, "don't cry now alright its alright, I'm your boy eh, I've got you and you're all alright..." He said it as though he were making a promise to you, watching the river flowing behind you, his eyes focussed on the water without seeing a thing because his mind was elsewhere. His mind was focussed on you, on keeping you safe, on taking revenge.

"No one's gonna hurt you no more little dove, I swear it..." He said pressing a firm kiss to your hair, his lips lingering in your parting. His eyes never breaking their stubborn glare at the water.

If it had been anyone else saying those words to you you wouldn't have believed it but as it was it was him, and you trusted him more than you'd ever trusted anyone before.

"I swear it love, no one's gonna touch you," he said his voice thick with emotion, gritty. He was struggling against tears, struggling against letting his feelings get the better of him. You were the most precious girl in the world and it hurt him deeply to know he hadn't been everything you'd needed. Hadn't saved you when you'd needed saving. "No one." He said again before a sniffle escaped him, his voice cracking as he let out a long shaky sigh, trying to laugh as he swiped the tears from his cheek.

With your hand on his heart you pushed yourself up, pulled away from his chest just enough to look up at him and see the upset flush in his rosy cheeks, the tears which trailed down them. His long lashes tried to blink them back. He tried to flash you that boyish smile. Tried to shake his crying off as nothing but you weren't having any of it.

You cupped his cheek in your hand and brushed his tears away with your thumb, kissing them away delicately, pressing your lips gently over each tear, collecting them. You held his head in your hands and climbed up into his lap so that you could rest your forehead against his, so that he could close his eyes and hold your face in his hands, his lips meeting yours again so that you could kiss in secret knowing that this would be last time you had to.

"No more secrets now eh little dove, think I've had enough..."

"Yeah," you sniffled through your smile, "me too."

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Hi BPP,

I really enjoy your blog and your level-headedness when it comes to everything surrounding BTS and Jikook. You often post really good takes and answer asks quite comprehensively.

Which is why I'm sending my ask to you regarding that short clip of Jikook at the airport during the baghug.

First off: Jimin seemed to really need that hug, it seems, because he (a) seemed a bit subdued during the walking-in part and (b) ge literally barrelled into Jungkook. There was impact made even tho JK was barely bothered. Maybe that interpretation of desperation instead of affection is what makes me a bit sad about my observation.

That JK did indeed remove Jimin. It's not like similar situations when JK was still a teen - it was rather gentle. From another angle, it looked like Jikook both moved at the same time after that talk with their bodyguard. A simple "okay, now it's time for travel business" motion.

I don't even know why this makes me think so much? Why I circle back to the fact that it wasn't entirely wanted which is apso not true, since JK was going along for the majority of the clip. Even swaying. Especially when we know Jikook are just as close as they've always been. I don't think the physical separation during their individual album releases hurt them, they're too good of friends for that. There are bonds in your life, nothing but an actual intense disagreement can ruin. And didn't we still get Kookie flirting with Jimin, and Jimin joining his golden concert?

I think, whatever they're up to in Tokyo, it will give them a lot of time to spend together. Off-line. Recuperating.

----

I read somewhere that In The Soop was kind of conceptualised to counteract a drifting apart of the members during the pandemic. Maybe Jikook and Hybe came to the conclusion, that with their schedules being what they are, producing a show would be the perfect cover-up for spending time together with the added benefit of having enlistment content. If that's the case, it makes it doubly...interesting let's say, that it's not all four or just the Maknaes or any other combination going places. That no other member has been mentioned in connection to this.

*

Ask 2:

Idk if this will make sense, I'm the somewhat insecure ask from a few hours ago. Panicking about that dumb airport clip.

Well. I'm not anymore.

Because Jikook are allegedly headed to Sapporo (spelling might be wrong, sorry). The more we learn - even in snippets - about this trip, the more fuzzy my heart feels. Happy, even.

They went to Tokyo as close as they could probably manage to their last trip there, aka the GCF Tokyo anniversary. That last time was a "REAL LOVE" declaration during a time neither were in a really good place. Tokyo was an escape removed from the worries of their life and fame. A snow globe of happiness, you can shake every time your demons get to you. A gift from one person seeing the one always taking care of them falling apart, and deciding to take the weight of their shoulders. It's so fucking beautiful.

And now, after a year of emotional turmoil with their hyungs enlisting, of the physical separation that releasing two incredibly important albums brings, of duties and barely any breaks. Now they go back to Tokyo and Japan just before they have to enlist.

None of this is a coincidence.

To add to that Sapporo. Where it's snowing now. The implications for Jikook are big. We know Jimin loves snow, that JK knows that as much as we do, that watching the first snow together is a superstition for Korean couples. And now Jikook are there, in the first major Japanese city legalising same sex marriage - the city of love. While JK wore a rLOVElution hoodie, a line being dedicated to lgbtqia+ acceptance, just like during his NY outing with Jimin.

I could criticise everyone villifying their bond here, but now I don't want to anymore. Just look at what Jimin and Jungkook get to experience, even if only for a little time, and tell me that it's not the most beautiful thing.

The person having "please love me" tattooed on his body and the person singing "just let me love you". Serendipity and Euphoria. Black and White. Sun and Moon. Poets would weep cause they couldn't write a love this beautiful.

***

Anon,

After you sent in the first ask I started drafting my reply to you (pasted below the asterisk) but left the draft unfinished because I had life to attend to. Then you sent in the second ask, and what you've said in this second ask is so beautiful, I don't want to ruin it with my pontificating. So I'll leave my draft unfinished (I think you eventually answer in the 2nd ask what you're asking in the 1st).

Regardless of anything, jikook have a real connection, a real relationship, and a real history. What exactly that looks like I don't know, but I do know whatever it is, it's real.

*

Draft:

“I read somewhere that In The Soop was kind of conceptualised to counteract a drifting apart of the members during the pandemic. Maybe Jikook and Hybe came to the conclusion, that with their schedules being what they are, producing a show would be the perfect cover-up for spending time together with the added benefit of having enlistment content.”

Let's not dismiss this right away, because there’s a possibility you're right and this could be true. But I don't see any of this, in my opinion. I don't think this Japan trip is arranged by the company because they're drifting apart, though I agree it's being made for content to keep parts of the fandom engaged. My counterpoint to that though is that if BigHit really was making this just for greenbacks, it would've made more sense for this to be a taekook trip and not jikook - given taekookers are the largest and oldest shippers in the fandom, and this would've been an easy way for BigHit to capitalize on the recent bromance we've seen from them in chapter 2. But it's jikook, and there could be many reasons for why, maybe sometime down the road Tae joins them or we get a similar show with him, but right now, with everything that's led up to now, the easiest explanation for why jikook are going on this trip is because they want to.

And that's good enough for me.

[suashii]

FIRST SNOW

info ⭑ itoshi rin x reader ﾉ 0.9k wc ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff

note ⭑ there's a superstition in korea that experiencing the first snow with someone you like means you'll have a long and loving relationship with them! so i especially loved being able to write this for rinnie ❤︎‬

requested by @moonartemisia for my winter wonderland event (closed)!

it’s the second saturday of the month; one of the two days of the month that you and rin have designated to be your scheduled date nights. the itinerary often changes from date to date but the both of you agreed to enjoy a dinner out this time around. 

rin’s hooking the strap of his mask over his ear when the two of you exit the restaurant you’d just eaten at. it’s his attempt to keep his face concealed—so that your time with him is yours alone, uninterrupted by eager fans excited to have sighted the famous footballer. he offers you his hand when the mask is situated over the lower half of his face and you happily accept it, intertwining your fingers with his.

“is there anything else you want to do tonight?” rin asks.

you aren’t quite ready to go home yet but you don’t want rin to worry about hiding his face all night either. you hum as you think of the places you could visit that aren’t as busy as the heart of the city. an idea pops into your head and you turn to look up at rin. “wanna go walk by the water?”

“sure, if you want to.”

there’s a river that the two of you used to visit often when you were younger and rin drives you there. it’s been a while since either you have been so when you get out of the car, a wave of nostalgia washes over you.

it’s almost as though you can see your teenage selves walking along the water—your teary gaze when he told you he’d be leaving to train at blue lock and the way you bounced on the balls of your feet when he returned after what felt like an eternity away. you can practically hear all of your shared laughs drifting about the chilly winter air.

the sound of rin’s car door closing breaks you from your reverie, bringing you back to the present. the two of you meet in front of the vehicle and you hook your arm through rin’s, using your free hand to tug the mask down from his face to rest on his chin.

he levels you with a confused look at your action but you gesture to your surroundings, namely the lack of pedestrians wandering the trail at this hour.

rin cracks a small smile upon catching on to the reasoning behind your suggestion for coming here specifically. though, he starts leading you down the path before he speaks up. “that’s why you wanted to come here?”

“perhaps,” you drawl, resting your head against his arm. the sleeve of his coat is warm against your ear. “but maybe i just wanted to take a walk down memory lane. it’s feels like forever since we’ve been here.”

rin has never really been the sentimental type but when it comes to all the moments he’s spent with you, he can admit that he finds some joy in looking back at those memories. you represent a time in his life highlighted by comfort instead of competition, happiness instead of hopelessness.

he’s sure you know that by now, so he keeps his lips sealed and spares you the uncharacteristic show of sappiness.

his silence doesn’t bother you but the longer the two of you walk beside the water, the colder you get. you can feel goosebumps raising on your arms even under the warmth of your coat. it seems like you underestimated how cold it would get just off of the water. 

you’re ready to suggest turning around and heading home for the night when something wet hits your cheek. the sensation worries you that it's about to rain and the two of you will be caught in it without an umbrella. though, when you turn to express your concern with rin, you see white specks sticking to his dark hair before disappearing.

it isn’t rain, it’s snow.

“oh!” you exclaim, holding your hand out to catch the fluffy flakes in your palm, “it’s snowing!”

a snowflake lands on rin’s eyelash with your words, causing him to flinch away from the cold. you giggle at his cute reaction, stopping in your tracks to reach up and wipe away the precipitation from his eye with your thumb. 

his skin is cool beneath your touch but the contact warms you both and the warmth tempts you to stay where you are in front of rin. he doesn’t protest, choosing to place his hands on your hips. he leans down, touching his forehead to yours. dark strands of his hair tickle your face, drawing another laugh from your chest, a puff of white air appearing between the two of you.

the sight drags rin’s teal gaze to your lips and it takes only a short moment for him to dip his head down to capture them in a kiss. it catches you by surprise but you quickly reciprocate, thumb caressing his cheek as your lips slowly dance with his in the kiss. in the cold of this winter night, you’re beginning to be swallowed by warmth.

the frosty air is invasive when rin pulls away and you pout at his decision to do so.

he jerks his head in the direction where he’d parked earlier. “come on, it’s cold.”

you can’t argue there, so you sigh and nod in understanding. spending a short, pleasant moment during the first snow of the season with him is enough. and you suppose you can badger him for more kisses once you get home.

[nomstellations]

A bunch of fairies healing a sick pred from within?

The Enigmawood was a sprawling forest filled with magic, mystery, and all manner of strange and unknown creatures. People rarely ventured to it, as those who wandered too deep never returned, and most settlements didn't put themselves too close to it out of superstition and fear.

Arice was currently regretting her decision to live right at its borders, with the closest town a few hours away. Much to her dismay, even the most cautious of witches get sick every once in a while!

She could easily whip up medicine for herself, but her illness sapped the strength from her body and left her unwilling to move. She laid in bed feeling feverish, drained, and too uncomfortable to sleep...maybe her pride had gotten the better of her in choosing to live here, but the benefits usually outweighed the drawbacks. Unable to continue her research in this state, she opted to stay put and conserve her energy until she could get up and mix medicine for herself. If only a breeze would blow through her window, it'd offer some relief from the heat she felt...

"Arice~!"

"Miss Silverwood?"

"Lady Ariceeee! We're here to play!"

What blew through was not a breeze, but a dusting of fairies. She knew them all- they were the first beings she befriended after moving here, and it turned out that the fairy population of the Enigmawood was largely friendly. They enjoyed hearing tales of the world outside, and they helped her find useful herbs in return for the time she spent with them. But today the witch was in no condition to entertain them as they fluttered in, all crowding around her face. She groaned quietly, not even opening her eyes to look at them.

"Miss...? You're all red like a ripe berry!" A fairy chirped, moving to touch her face and quickly drawing away from how warm it was. "Farro..." She mumbled, gently brushing the fairy away. "I can't play today, I'm sorry...I've gotten sick. I don't have the strength to..." Their normally bright glow dimmed, and they turned to the others for help.

"Sick...that's bad, right?" "Duh, Bellflower! This happens to humans a lot! They can die if they don't get better!" Tiny gasps fill the air. "H-how can we help! Do the Grandfae know anything about humans...?" The fairies tittered among themselves. Arice found the gesture sweet, but it was just a nasty cold. She wouldn't die, but it's not like she could bother to explain...the fairy dust that drifted from their wings felt nice and cool on her skin, so she wasn't about to complain.

"Hey, why don't we use magic? We can make it go away, I'm sure!" Farrow exclaimed, their glow brightening up. "We're so small, though...how's that going to change anything?" There was a few moments of silence before Arice could faintly pick out some tiny whispers. They were too small to really make out, but one of them finally spoke up and got her attention. "Lady Arice! We're going to use some magic on you, okay? Don't panic, it'll be safe!"

"Freak out...?"

Her questioning provided Farro with the perfect opportunity to leap into her mouth! Arice's eyes snapped open all of a sudden, shocked by the fairy's quick movement. Too stunned to spit them out, they wriggled to the back of her throat, triggering her body's response to swallow. Farro easily slid down her gullet, with a cooling sensation making their descent felt. "Wh- what are you all doing...?" It was enough to shock her hazy mind, but it was too late for her to try and spit them out now. "My turn~ Think of this as a favor, miss!"

Bellflower was next, wriggling in with a bit of effort. She had a more sweet flavor compared to Farro, but...was she really considering the flavor of her fairy friends? She was too weak to really resist being fed like this, so it didn't take long for the next one to be sent down with a thick gulp. That left Thistle, the largest of the group, almost shyly rubbing their arm. "I think Farro's idea was kind of dumb...but we do want to help you. We'll be alright, so don't worry."

They waited patiently, waiting for Arice to open her mouth, and after a few moments she did. The fairies in her stomach seemed to be doing something, as a cool and almost tingly sensation spread through her body. Maybe this was the magic they planned on using? Whatever it was, it was chasing away her fever...so she felt she could trust this plan of theirs. Allowing Thistle to crawl inside, they were a lot more careful than the others with feeding themselves to her. They waited until she was ready, letting her take a few swallows to work them down her throat.

Arice felt full. Looking down, she could see a faint glow coming from her stomach. The magic only grew stronger as the last fairy filled her stomach, making her finally feel relaxed and comfortable. She didn't need to worry about eating for now, either...she swore she could hear one of their voices asking for her, but now with a full belly her fatigue was hitting her full force. She'll have to thank them properly...after this long-awaited nap.

[snapeaddict]

Snapetober Day 26 - Superstition

July, 1997

"I will meet you this evening, Severus", the Dark Lord said leisurely.

"Where, my Lord?"

"The Astronomy Tower."

-

There was no question he would go, none; no possibility to shirk, to evade, to lie.

He never lied, and that was the issue, the root of the problem. He simply did not say the whole truth - he projected small, minuscule truths as if they were whole, as if they were not part of a grand tapestry he would never show anyone.

What was he to do, then?

He would meet the Dark Lord in the Astronomy Tower. He should look proud, that was what was expected of him - the good and loyal servitor, having accomplished the most difficult task of all, proved his loyalty beyond any doubt.

But the Dark Lord always doubted. He smelled betrayal even in his most trusted advisors, and even Severus could not afford to rely on his new found position.

This was a test, the final test, and he was very well aware of it. But there was no pride in him: no pride, no contentment, not even relief, though he had thought there would be some.

He had used disgust to kill Albus. This, and hatred, and scorn, all accumulated over the years, all very much deserved, none even as remotely strong as the twisted love he felt towards Dumbledore.

He had found them in him nonetheless, and had used them successfully.

He was at an impasse, and he knew it.

He could not use the self-hatred, the fear or the shame, he could extract from his soul nothing of satisfaction for that crucial moment.

Still, he would go.

He went to the meeting that night, he climbed the stairs, he stood in front of the Dark Lord helpless, a cold breeze lifting his hair.

His master observed him carefully. He narrowed his horrid reddish eyes and leaned against the guardrail behind him, the very one Albus had stumbled upon before falling. Severus refused to look at it, refused to look at anything in front of him, to take another step.

So much was a stake and yet he feared, irrationally and in spite of his intelligence and will, that if he did so much as lift his eyes he would see a ghost. Albus' ghost, staring at him intently.

Voldemort noticed.

"Something troubles you, Severus. You are… ashamed."

Severus' heart missed a beat. He blinked, slowly. He fought with all his might to keep breathing at a steady pace, he relaxed, and looked up.

There Albus was, just beside the Dark Lord, pleading with him like in his nightmares.

"Severus… please…"

Severus looked at him for a few seconds. His lips tightened. It was like every night, every single night since it had happened - it was terribly and utterly pathetic.

Slowly, he turned his gaze away from Albus, and back to his Master.

"I… am ashamed, my Lord", he replied. "Though it is foolish of me."

"I do not understand."

He saw the Dark Lord's hand contract for a second, grasp his wand more firmly. He let out a small noise of contempt.

"I have spent 17 years in the close presence of Albus Dumbledore, my Lord. During this time, I came to admire him - I admired him as much as I loathed him."

To his relief, his master did not react.

"But before I killed him, he pleaded with me. He pleaded… and pleaded again… it was pathetic. Absurd. He was on his knees, he was weeping. It was unlike anything anyone would have imagined."

Again, his eyes drifted on Dumbledore's ghostly, teary face, and he noticed, in the corner of his eye, Voldemort's hand loosening around his wand.

"I feel no personal satisfaction concerning what happened, my Lord. No pride. Only a foolish sense of shame, because the man I killed was far from being the Dumbledore I had come to know, and wished to kill myself. I... merely murdered a helpless man."

Voldemort smiled.

"So if anything, my Lord..." He turned his gaze away from Albus, one final time. "If anything, I feel disappointed."

Slowly, the Dark Lord put his wand away.

"That is very noble of you, Severus. I suppose this is my fault - you have spent too much time with the old fool, and you have picked upon his dripping sense of nobility. You must feel relieved to finally be rid of him."

Severus smiled.

"Very much so, my Lord."

[tarnishedxknight]

FFXII Week ~ Day 6 Prompt: Family

{out of dalmasca} Disclaimer: This post may include canon-divergent interpretations of canon characters, info about OCs featured on this blog, and AUs that may not align with the canon plot/characters of FFXII and/or may contain triggering material.

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The concept of family is an important one in FFXII and it is a recurring theme that is seen with many of the main characters as they either navigate their current families, or deal with the repercussions of lost/estranged family. Many different types of families exist in the game, and characters have varying degrees of love and hate for their respective families. There's the toxic/competitive family dynamics of Houses Solidor and Bunansa, the lost/deceased family members of Houses Dalmasca and Nabradia, the broken/estranged family of Houses Ronsenburg and Gabranth, and the found/chosen families of Balthier & Fran and Vaan & Penelo.

I'd be here all day if I tried to analyze all the important types of families and how they affected several main FFXII characters, so I'll choose to focus on my top two favorite characters, Basch & Noah. I'll discuss their biological family and how it fell apart, their new found families and how they were supported by them, and their reconciliation at the end of the game. As always, some of this post might drift into my own headcanons, or from other sources such as the manga, but I'll include a lot of canon information as well.

Basch and Noah were very close as boys, but Basch was the more outgoing, while Noah was quieter and often slipped away to be alone. He brooded a lot, kept much to himself, and didn't like to outwardly show emotion, except perhaps for anger, to anyone but Basch. This was largely because he didn't get along with their parents at all.

The odds were stacked against Noah from the start. Landis, being remote and with most of the people being close to nature (mountains, forests, the sea, etc.), was a religious and superstitious land. There was a belief/superstition similar to that of the changeling concept, whereby if twins were born, the firstborn was the true child and the second born was a evil creature, like a demon. If permitted to live, the younger twin would slowly sap the strength and steal the soul of the elder twin until they eventually kill and replace them. Thus, when twins were born in Landis, the young child was done away with through religious ritual to protect the firstborn child, who was believed to be truly human.

Basch was the firstborn twin, and Noah was born several minutes after. Their father, who was Landisian and very religious, wanted to immediately have the proper ritual to do away with Noah, but their mother, who was Archadian and grew up in the Imperial City of Archades, vehemently refused to allow Noah to be killed. Their father reluctantly acquiesced to their mother's request to let both twins live, but from that moment onward, their father treated them differently from each other.

Everything was a competition. Noah was constantly being compared - and coming up short - to Basch for everything: sports, intelligence, social skills, usefulness, etc. Their father always made it clear that Basch was the favorite, he was better, and Noah would never measure up to him. Basch was aware of some of these comparisons and verbal abuse against Noah from their father, but to some extent he was blind to it because he didn't experience it himself and because Noah didn't talk much about it. Despite this, Noah didn't really hold it against Basch, and loved his brother dearly, to the point of being emotionally dependent on him.

Their mother was a fragile thing, a complainer, a hypochondriac, and a very needy person. She needed to be taken care of, to be coddled, to be praised, and to be the center of attention. She, too, considered Basch to be the favorite, and although she wasn't overtly abusive to Noah, she wasn't as interactive with and supportive of him as she was with Basch. If she needed something and their father wasn't home, she called for Basch.

All of this left Noah feeling rejected, unwanted, and like there was something inherently wrong with him or evil about him, which played right into their father's superstition, and that of their entire city. Everyone knew the changeling-esque superstition with twins, and so they were wary of Noah. Over the years many people kindof got over this, but some never did, and so there were some people who absolutely refused to interact with him at all. This only served to isolate him further as the years went on.

When the twins were sixteen and Landis was invaded, both twin and their father fought to defend their land. Noah, however, saw an opportunity to eliminate someone who had treated him poorly all his life, whether awakened by the stress of the battle or just that he'd been pushed to his limit. When their father was wounded and Basch was fighting elsewhere, he asked for Basch, disregarding the fact that Noah was right there. Something snapped in Noah then, and in the chaos of the battle, he struck down his father. With all the Archadian soldiers killing Landisians, this murder went unnoticed, and it is something Noah has never told Basch about. Basch believes their father was simply killed in the battle.

Then came that fateful time afterward, as Archadia was assessing the losses and destruction following the use of nethicite, when Archadia offered to take refugees to Old Archades. It was an olive branch that numerous Landisians accepted, not because they believed in the kindness of their conquerors, but because the longer they remained there, the more they would be poisoned by the Mist. That and there was nothing to remain for. The soil, water, and air was all poisoned and sterile.

With their father dead, the twins' mother wanted to return to Archadia, which was her homeland. Noah immediately agreed to go with her, since she was made very fragile by the Mist and needed assistance. Basch, however, refused to have anything to do with Archadia. He suggested they take their mother elsewhere, but she was adamant about returning to Archadia. Seeing an opportunity to please her, and assuming Basch would stay with him, Noah said they should all just get onto the airships being provided by a then very young Judge Magister Drace, who had been sent by Emperor Gramis to manage the evacuation of Landis following the invasion. Basch again refused, and despite Noah begging him not to leave him, Basch left Landis on foot alone. He assumed Noah would come to his senses and follow him, but that never happened.

The family was broken up, then, and it never recovered. Noah was forced to mercy-kill his mother, for she grew too sick to take care of herself and he couldn't dedicate himself to the Archadian military to make enough of a living to survive if he had to stay with her all the time. Plus... as her mind started to go, all she did was constantly ask for Basch, which made Noah angry at the both of them. He needed to make a clean break from his biological family, and with her death, he did. He took her surname of Gabranth, though, to distance himself from both his abusive father and the brother who betrayed him.

Fast forward twenty years, and the brothers remain estranged and have not seen each other in all that time. What's interesting, though, is that they both have acquired found families where their biological ones were lost, in some of the same ways and for the same reasons. Despite having this catastrophic falling out between them, the twins ended up with found families in similar fashions, suggesting that they both need and look for similar things in the people they surround themselves with.

Basch became close friends with Vossler, who helped him to initially get into the Dalmascan military and to be seen by Raminas through his connects to the king via his father's friendship with Raminas. That fast-tracked Basch to become a soldier/guard, a royal guardsman, a knight, and eventually, Knight Captain of the Order of Dalmasca. I know I've developed Vossler in a more villainous manner than strict canon does, but from Bach's point of view, until Raminas' assassination and the events of the main game, Vossler was a close friend who helped him immensely.

For Noah, that friend was Drace. She helped him enter the Archadian military, got him noticed by Raminas, and sponsored him to become a Judge Magister. Noah might have done all that on his own, but with Drace vouching for him, it fast-tracked him to be something of a rising start in the Archadian army, just as Basch was in the Dalmascan army. Noah and Drace grew closer and closer as the years went on, sharing the secret of Noah's abuse by the Empress and the knowledge that Larsa was actually his biological son. Eventually, they became lovers, and theirs was a strong and emotional bond behind closer doors, even if they had to hide the majority of it among their peers.

Basch found a father figure in King Raminas. With all his sons dead, Raminas favored Basch and gave him a lot of opportunities that foreigners might not have had in Dalmasca with regard to getting close to the King and holding high positions of power in the military. In addition to naming Basch Knight Captain over other more senior knights such as Vossler, Raminas allowed Basch to function more as a war general than his own aging generals sometimes did, and he trusted Basch with sensitive missions and information. Beyond that, Raminas cared for Basch as he would a son, even if he could never name him one of his heirs.

Similarly, Noah found a father figure in Gramis. An unlikely one, since it was by Gramis' order that Landis met its fate, but Noah needed a father who cared about him and his future, and Gramis needed a son that wasn't trying to kill him and some kind of redemption for Landis. They both found what they needed in each other. Gramis elevated Noah to the rank of Judge Magister at the youngest age anyone has ever achieved the rank, and he trusted Noah with the most sensitive and consequential Bureau in the Imperial Army: espionage and intelligence. They came to trust and value each other because of their shared desire to not have disasters like Landis and Nabudis keep happening again and again, and to bring an end to the war. They both saw, in Larsa, a way to bring Archadia into the future in a potentially peaceful way.

With Gramis, Noah felt valued and like he had an actual figure gently guiding him to be the best he could be. With Noah, Gramis felt he had someone who shared his vision for Archadia's future, someone trustworthy, and someone who would protect Larsa. A son, unlike his eldest three, who would not follow their own selfish, violent agenda. Gramis was even contemplating adopting Noah as his legal, legitimate son, something perfectly legal for Archadian royalty to do. That would have allowed Noah to take the throne after Gramis died before Vayne and then give it to Larsa when the boy came of age, something Noah would have agreed to. Unfortunately, Gramis was assassinated by Vayne before he could make any adoption of Noah finalized.

And finally, both brothers found someone to protect, mentor, guide, and love within the younger generations of their found homelands. Noah had Larsa, his biological son but also a Prince of Archadia. Although he couldn't be a true father to him, he could mentor the boy to navigate the cutthroat nature of House Solidor and prepare him for the Emperor Noah hoped he would become someday. This gave his life purpose, it made him happy, and it made him feel like he was doing something truly good with his life.

The same can be said of Basch with Ashelia. He helped protect and mentor her during her childhood when Raminas was a largely absent father. In her teen years, he was defying Raminas' orders to bring her books, maps, and to teach her the sword, something that would later save her life when Archadia invaded. By the time she married Rasler, Basch had come to love Ashelia, though he could never speak such thoughts aloud. Nevertheless, he remained dedicated to her, and to her father, long after Raminas' death. He was entrusted by Raminas to help Ashe prove her legitimacy as a descendent of Raminas and Raithwall, and despite her believing Noah's framing of Basch at first and treating Basch poorly, he stands by her, truly dedicated to her and her cause.

So both brothers were able to surround themselves with found families that included a new father figure, someone to protect and who would become a large part of their own personal legacy, and someone close to them who could act as a friend and confidante. But there was one component to a family that they could never replace for each other: themselves. Despite twenty years of estrangement, Basch and Noah still love each other. They are forever connected as twins, they share similar faces, and neither one can forget how close they were as boys, even if it all now seems so lost and tainted.

Death... is the great equalizer. Rivalries, betrayals, disappointments, abandonments, anger, sadness... they all fall away when someone is dying. In that moment, nothing becomes as important as making amends and hearing the final words of your dying loved one, and if you are the one dying, grievances fade and in their place is your desire to leave your loved with the knowledge that you forgive them. When Noah lays dying at the end of the game, his anger and hatred of Basch leaves him. Basch, despite them crossing blades not that long ago and despite having been imprisoned and tortured in Nalbina by Noah's order, holds his brother's hand, this time not abandoning him at all. This time... he stayed with him until the end. And Noah, deep down knowing that Basch could be trusted, made sure that he would look after Larsa for him. It hurt, heh. I cried. I'm sure many of you cried too. But it was also a beautiful moment of letting go of the past, forgiveness, reconciliation, and closure for both twins.

Family played such an important role for both Basch and Noah, and in the end, they were able to mend their relationship as well. They came full circle, and had both left their marks upon the new "families" they created. =)