#There's also heavy coughs which brings me great pain lol

[iamespecter]

I'm currently in that weird in between of 'I'm still sick, but my body feels like it can already run a mile but I also know I'll fucking collapse if I do that literally'

[beneathashadytree]

Hi 👋 I was wondering if you could do a Sherlock x fem reader from Moriarty the patriot (or multiple characters what ever u would Like to do) but the reader is really sick (like with scarlets fever or something because that was one of the main sickness in late 19th century) and Sherlock (or whoever) gets really worried and stuff like that, lol sorry it’s not more descriptive 😅 anyways I hope u have a great rest of your day

SEALED VOWS - SHERLOCK HOLMES X READER

Warnings : this is set pre-timeskip, general mentions of illness, implied death, reader uses she/her pronouns!

Genre : fluff but also pretty angsty

Word count : 0.7K words

Additional notes : Thank you so much for requesting! Since scenarios take up so much time, I usually write one character per piece, and multiple in headcanons only. Sherlock was a great choice, seeing as how he dabbles in chemistry. Don’t worry, you were perfectly descriptive! Too many details intimidate me tbh so you’re good 🥰 Hope you enjoy this, and hope you have a wonderful day! 💗

Requests : Are open! Check the rules over here.

Want to support me financially? Here’s my CashApp!

Masterlist

“Don’t fiddle with the bandages,” Sherlock’s voice was firm as he tightened the white wraps around her midsection, “You’ll only end up scratching yourself.”

She looked like she wanted to moan out that they itched so bad, but with her current state could do little more than weakly glare at him.

Her lover arched his eyebrow. “If you’ve got any complaints to make about my bedside care, there’s a notepad and ink to your right.”

With all the strength she could muster, she pushed herself up in bed and began to scribble onto the paper, as Sherlock took the wet cotton from her forehead, quick to replace it with another cooler one in hopes of bringing down her fever. By the time she was done, he was already seated in his chair, stirring an ominous-looking beaker of… something.

When she flipped the paper back to him, he set the beaker down and leaned in to read.

You’d make a terrible nurse. You would get sued for client dissatisfaction, and misconduct.

He snorted. “Now I don’t remember any misconduct from my end.”

You ripped my shirt open. That’s assault.

“Because you were using the bloody thing to scratch at your rash,” he grumbled, picking up the beaker with the liquid in, “Never liked that shirt anyways. Now open up.”

She eyed him nastily, to which Sherlock rolled his eyes, “Honestly. I know it tastes horrible, but it’s just carbonate and nitrate silver.”

She quickly scribbled down on the notebook, You’re trying to poison me.

“Actually, I’m doing quite the opposite. That is, counteracting the poison caused by Scarlet Fever,” he sighed, pushing the beaker insistently against her lips, “Please? I know it’s got to be awful, but I can’t stand the sight of you bed-ridden.”

She hesitated for a few moments, before showing him another message with shaky hands.

Will you ask Mrs. Hudson to make me that broth I like?

He nodded. “I’ll even tolerate her nagging me about the rent if I have to. Just please take your medicine.”

Begrudgingly, she let her lover feed her the damned thing that had her spluttering and coughing afterwards, eyes water at the pungent smell and disgusting aftertaste.

“I’m sorry,” he winced as though he himself were the one ill, a heavy look in his blue eyes as he did; looking as if it physically pained him to see her like that. And it truly did, with the way his chest clenched at every thought of her struggling, of her deteriorating overnight, of her leaving him—

A burning hand curled around his fingers, which he hadn’t noticed were trembling visibly. He swallowed thickly, tortured by worries that clouded his mind and left him shivering in fears he’d tried so desperately to lock away. Somehow, though, that single weak hand that held his tucked every concern in the back of his mind once again.

Sherlock looked up from his lap to meet her eyes, which were a little hazy with the drowsiness that came with the fever, but also still laced with fondness and warmth he’d only ever received from her.

She opened her mouth, taking in a shuddering breath. “W-whatev—“

“Don’t, you’ll open the ulcers in your throat—“

Squeezing his hand to stop him from interrupting her, she went on, determination brimming in those tired eyes. “Whatever h-happens…” she croaked out, “P-Promise me. You’ll be… you’ll be f-fine.”

He knew. He knew what she was saying; what she was implying. He knew the possibilities she was entertaining; the chances that things could go disastrously wrong. She’d avoided saying “we”, because she’d known that there was a very real possibility that it would become a “you”. Just him and these four walls.

Sherlock despised his own weakness. Here he was, wallowing in his own misery, when only God could ever know how terrified his lover was. And yet she selflessly set that aside, just to falsely comfort and reassure him. How pathetic was he?

“P-promise me.”

Blinking back the tears that had unknowingly collected in his eyes, he gritted his teeth and dug his nails into his free palm. It was all he could do to thaw the ice threatening to freeze his heart.

With a shuddering breath, he sealed the vow. It was the least he could do to repay her for the immense strength she’d shown for his sake the entire time. “I promise, my dear. I’ll be alright.”

Taglist: @sherlockscumslut @lilias-highlights @thispersoniscrazy

[gaiuswrites]

King of Cups || Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Tower

Archive: ao3 | masterlist | two

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: You’re apart of the Refugee Relief Movement, an intergalactic organization providing aid throughout the systems, and you find yourself assisting at a resettlement camp in Lothal when disaster strikes, changing your life forever, intertwining your path with that of a certain Mandalorian bounty hunter.

Word count: 3.7k~

Rated: Mature

Warnings: descriptive violence, blood/injury mentioning, danger, mature language

Notes: Hi y'all, welcome. This fic is going to be set during Season 2 of The Mandalorian, and will be what I like to call ‘canon adjacent’. ALSo, this chapter is very much so Reader focused, setting up the scene and the general pacing of the story, but naturally, Din will be more and more featured as things progress. I’m a sucker for backstory and a slow burn, so ye be warned. Please feel free to reach out to me. :) I’d love to hear from you lovely little beans. Be safe out there, friends.

Lothal was a planet all too familiar with occupation.

You remember seeing a quote somewhere that read ‘Look no further than Lothal if you want to see what happens when the Empire takes control of an entire world’; and although the Imperial chokehold had loosened when the Empire fell, the planet, even all these years later, still found itself gasping for breath. 

Off world migration from the Core Worlds had been popularized since the expansion of the Imperial government bureaucracy, which brought booming business opportunities for the fortunate few, but as the rich became richer, the poor grew poorer. The Lothalites were forced out of their homes, off their own lands—refugees on their own planet; forced to resettle and relocate with nothing but the clothes on their back and the possessions they could cram into their pockets. The only heirlooms passed on from generation to generation were that of poverty, tall tales of former splendor, and the greatest of ancestral traumas: disillusionment.

The truly desperate turned to crime, and what couldn’t be solved by back-dealings and blaster fire was managed with fear mongering and the bitter flair of xenophobia. There was always a species to blame, and it was always the one who seemed to be doing better off, no matter how slight the margin. 

Greed. Fear. Despair. These are the currencies in which the galaxy trades. 

And so it was then, and continued to be, cycle after cycle. History, always finding clever ways to repeat itself.

On bad days, pollution still loomed heavy over the atmosphere—remnants of the fires from the Imperial occupation still clinging on to Lothal’s weary bones. She had been stripped during that time; gutted and strung up by her feet to dangle from the Empire’s meat hook, exsanguinated slowly, drop by drop, until she had nothing left to give. Her resources and minerals and ore and water and seed, robbed. Pillaged.

She’s free from it now, but the scars remain— the planet remembers. Her people do not forget. Like muscle memory, they all ungulate to this synthesized rhythm they can’t seem to shake, day in and day out, wandering. Forever unsettled.

The planet had always had a diverse population and had become something of a safe haven for other abandoned people fleeing their home worlds, determined to find somewhere - anywhere - for them to survive. Lothal provided that for them. It wasn’t rich or bountiful by any stretch, but it was simple and safe—safe in the way hidden things in plain sight are. One could blend into the crowd of many, unique faces, of all races and backgrounds; you could be anonymous, if you wanted. You could be free.

That’s how you’ve found yourself here in Jortho. You had been with the Refugee Relief Movement for the better part of what felt like forever, and they had transferred you to this planet not six weeks ago. You were out on rotation; the RRM sends someone new twice a cycle for the span of a month or two to varying locations to supply rations, aid with the influx of refugees, organize resettlement lodgings, and generally be of assistance when and where you could. However, your tenure on this temperate planet was coming to a close, and soon you’d be flying back to the headquarters on Coruscant before being bounced to another post somewhere out among the stars. 

You love your job. You know it’s unpopular to say, but you do. It’s fulfilling and impactful and indescribably special. The individuals you meet, the stories you hear, they’re invaluable— priceless and precious, like handmade trinkets crafted by the fingers of a child; you press them all to your heart, holding them there. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t get to you— the weight of it; the plights of all of these people, all of these lives, burdening your conscience. It isn’t always painless— you aren’t immune to it. Even so, on most nights you manage to sleep easy, tucked away aboard the transport freighter you flew in on with the batch of settlers newly assimilated into town knowing Maker, at least you were doing something— anything— everything you could.

And really, to call Jortho a town would be an insult to all towns everywhere—but ‘town’ has a certain charm to it that ‘refugee camp’ simply did not, and it gave the people hope. Pride, even. That they belonged somewhere.

You suppose that’s all anyone wants. To belong. 

A feather soft gust of wind tickles the golden blades of prairie grass as the sun, bleary and tired, starts dipping from the sky. The crickbeets begin their song early, trilling, sensing Lothal’s moons still coyly tucked away, hiding somewhere along the horizon. A smile adorns your face, private and serene, as you bring a bowl of broth up to your lips, humming when the warm liquid meets your tongue. You sigh, contented, taking in the sights before you; how the dusk blurs the aromatic air, making it opaque, the shuttles docked across the way from you casting long purple shadows onto the flat plains, the snowcapped mountains in the distance bordering the cant of the planet’s surface, nestling Jortho in a shallow valley.

You feel calm, at peace, and take another sip.

An easy moment passes, and it’s the last one you get before silence stalks up from behind you.

You don’t notice it at first, like any patient predator, it goes undetected: the white noise, the nothingness— until finally, you do and then suddenly it’s everywhere. On top of you. Smothering you. Goosebumps stipple your skin and you bristle. The insects have stopped chirping. The breeze has stilled. The air hangs dead. 

And then—

Chaos.

You’re hit with a blast of crushing heat, the sheer power of it picking you up off your feet and onto your side, sending your body careening into a nearby structure. Your shoulder takes most of the blow, but your neck still snaps backwards unnaturally, the back of your head colliding with the stone wall behind you with a dull thwack. You let out a groaned cry at the impact, the wind knocked out of your lungs as you crumple to the ground.

For an instant, your vision goes white, stars popping and fusing out in front of your pupils, and it’s like you can feel everything and nothing all at once, hollow but overwhelmed, and all you want to do is close your eyes and drift asleep— Maker that would feel like a luxury, just right here on the damn dirt. And you almost do, you almost let yourself slip under and sink— until you hear a piercing scream from somewhere close. 

Immediately your eyes shoot open, desperately blinking away the blurriness that threatens to over take them, and you try pushing yourself up by the heels of your scraped hands, failing once - twice - before finding your footing. You’re shaky at first, uncoordinated and dizzy and redownloading bipedalism, before that sweet drug of adrenaline starts to course through your veins and finally, finally, you take in your surroundings. 

The ships that once stood across the field are gone, obliterated, and in their place only metal ribcages remain—empty carcasses like dead birds splayed on their backsides, imploded from the inside out, their bits strewn all around you. 

Your breathing comes hard and heavy, fighting down panic, and cloudy eyes search through the thick black smoke billowing up in stacks, trying to pin point the source of the scream you’d heard just moments ago. You cough a strained wheeze, sputtering against the charred air, and wade your way through the debris— it’s only then that you realize the magnitude of the explosion. It’s not just the landing bay, it’s half the kriffing village. The buildings that neighbored the airfield had been decimated, burning roofs and crumbling fixtures, homes collapsing onto themselves, scorch marks and shrapnel branding the outsides of the shanties left standing.

It looks like a battlefield. You’ve seen holovids of this—what war can look like, how it can ruin a people… But you’ve never had to stand in the middle of it, head on. 

Your heart drums against your chest as you break into a hobbled run, desperately scanning the area for any signs of life, up and down, left and right, straining against the waning daylight. It’s then that you hear your name, urgent and frantic, and you whip your head in it’s direction, knees nearly buckling in relief. You immediately recognize your friend Hareem, brandishing her arms at you, waving you over to her. 

“Thank the Maker, you’re alright!” the Balosar cries out, trembling hands finding purchase on your shoulders, bracing you. You don’t know if its for your benefit or her own, but either way you’re grateful for the grounding pressure; for the first time since the initial blast, you feel solid, like you won’t just float away, atomized and weightless. Worried, you look her over. A sliver of fresh scarlet blooms from her scalp, a small line trickling down past her temple, but she otherwise looks relatively unharmed. You grasp onto her wrist, squeezing firmly.

“What the hell happened?” You ask, voice low and pitched, wide fearful eyes drilling into her.

“T-There was a man-” And she shakes her head, mouth clamping shut, deep wrinkles framing her face.

“Hareem,” you reassure, giving her another squeeze. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.

She tries again with a steadying inhale, “I-I saw him. A-a man. He had a device with him, and he set charges, and Maker I don’t know— I don’t know— it went off a-and he ran towards the center of town!” The Balosar is in hysterics, tears spilling down her dirty cheeks, and it takes your brain a moment to catch up, to wrap your mind around the words she’s stuttering out. 

A man. 

Device. 

Charges.

A bomb. This wasn’t an accident; this was an attack—and he’s still kriffing here. You cup her cheeks, thumbs rubbing against the pale skin, smearing away the blood that’s nearly dripped to her chin. Your friend’s gaze is flighty, everywhere and nowhere, and you try giving her a smile, but you’re not quite sure you manage it.

“Hareem? Hareem. Hey, shh, you’re okay. You’re alright…” You peel your eyes off her to glance around hurriedly. “We need to find cover.”

///

You’re holed up in one of the few remaining homes on this side of the encampment, crowded into the small space with three other survivors. All four of you, packed in and silent and petrified. Unsure of any further threat, you stay completely still. Helpless. Laying here, idle, for whatever awaits you behind that feeble, wooden door. You feel like prey for the wicked, just passing the time.

Minutes inch along like this—or maybe its hours; time moves eerily different when you’re attempting to become invisible—and eventually, you almost begin to relax.

Almost.

But a new sound breaks the din, hard to recognize at first, indistinct from all the commotion outside their hut, but you hear it. You all do. The youngest of you, a teenaged Devaronian, grips onto the hem of your shirt, knuckles creasing with anticipation. You tense, spine going rigid. Footsteps. They’re slow, guarded, but they’re getting closer. You bring an arm up, for all the good it’ll do, creating a human shield in front of the boy at your side. Closer. Someone behind you muffles a whimper. Closer. A Bardottan you hadn’t even met until today let’s out the faint whisper of a prayer, lips barely ghosting over the phrases. Closer- 

and then, nothing.

They’re here. You can sense him, see his shadow sweep across the gaps in the entryway. You all hold your breath, as if the air is being syphoned out of the space… And the door is flung open, nearly breaking off it’s hinges as it slams into the inside of the house, shuttering the rickety walls with a jarring bang. 

You don’t know who looks more astonished: you four, or the Mandalorian before you, dripping head to toe in silver plated armor, pointing a blaster directly at your head.

“Where is he?” He asks, hard edged and modulated, and it’s more of a demand than a question—but he lowers his weapon all the same, holstering it at his side. You gape at him, guppying wordlessly. “Volcur X’elo. The bomber. Where?” He hasn’t moved an inch out of the doorframe but he’s still managing to loom over you, completely filling up the archway, shoulders set and impossibly intimidating.

You gulp, finally finding your voice. “In town, i-in the center of town…” Kriff, you had not idea if that intel was good or not, but it’s all you think to say. Seeming satisfied with your answer he turns on his booted heel, cape whipping behind him, leaving just as soon as he arrived. The dust barely has time to settle as the door teeter’s on its hinge, its rusty squeaks filling the void in the Mandalorian’s wake.

“Fuck,” you hiss, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, doubling forward, propping your palms up on your knees.

///

After deliberating it with your group, you all come to the agreement of braving it outside. Better to be out under the open sky than die under a concaving apartment, clambering over each other to get to the exit. After all this, at least your dignity was still partially in tact— normally, you reckon you’d chuckle dryly at that. But you don’t. 

Can’t. 

You lead the pack through the mazelike streets. The sights that once seemed so familiar after weeks of living here become like strangers to you, and you sleepwalk through Jortho, snaking down paths marred by rubble and fallen wreckage— you haven’t seen any bodies, but maybe that isn’t true. Maybe you’re just too scared to notice them. Maybe they’re there, hovering just outside of your peripherals, haunting the corners of your vision… 

You keep your head fixed forward, jaw clenched.

Your feet move on their own like this, only vaguely aware that the red-skinned boy still hadn’t let go of your tunic. You forge on. Have to. You have to. Your only purpose on this kriffing planet was to help these people, to bring them aid, and if that means simply planting one foot in front of the other, then so be it. You take side alleys, double backing here and there, ducking under canopies, looping around yourself, only stopping when you catch a glimpse of beskar, the orange setting sun glinting off the surface of his helmet.

And he’s not alone.

You freeze suddenly, as do the rest, and the Devaronian bumps into you, stumbling under his lanky legs. Some paces in front of you, the bounty hunter has the other man, this Volcur X’elo, by a punishing grip on his shoulders, shoving him forcefully out in front of him; his wrists are bound and he’s fitful without the stabilization of his arms, his feet staccatoed and flailing wildly beneath him as the Mandalorian marches him forward. 

The wind shifts, and on it you can hear the bomber rant madly, only catching snippets of the vile nonsense that spews from him.“- like swine, they are a plague to the system! And they must be purged from this planet, and the next, and the next— every last filthy one!” You spare a glance to Hareem, to find her watching the scene in hypnotized horror, but your eyes snap back at the sound of something maniacal, drawing your attention. It’s laughter. The zealot begins to laugh a twisted, mocking cry that makes you want to vomit. “You might have me in binders Mandalorian, but you’re too late. You’re too late. This isn’t over!” He’s practically giggling, gleeful and demented. Disturbed. “You’ve only found one.”

Your blood runs cold. 

Only one? Oneoneoneone, one what-

The realization hits you with a punch to your gut. He’s only detonated one of his bombs. Somewhere, nearby, there must be another.

Without another word, the Mandalorian whips the smaller man around, pulling him sharply by his collar to collide with his breastplate, completely dwarfing him with his beskar frame. “Where is it, X’elo?” Nothing. Only laughter. High pitched, terrible roars. He tries again, patience ebbing. “The bomb. Now.” X’elo’s head tilts back and he howls another crowing shriek, keeping private his own sick joke, as if clutching a secret to his chest with slimy hands. 

The bounty hunter had heard enough. He clearly wasn’t getting anything more out of him, and with a quick strike, he rears his blaster and pistol whips the terrorist with it. The body drops. Volcur X’elo crumples, unconscious, blood streaming from where he was struck. You hear the Bardottan behind you stifle a cry with her fist. 

And with that, Lothal’s sun disappears completely, stealing away the last of it’s light as it furls into itself, shrinking out of sight. The dark ushers a new wave of dread, creeping over Jortho like a miasma, poisoning the very air.

The Mandalorian wheels around, searching for his heading in the labyrinth of the town. Others have gathered now, poking their heads around corners, stealing glimpses through windows. He turns, his head on a swivel. “Where is your power generator?” he demands, addressing the small crowd, but you’re all too stunned to speak. “Anybody. Generator. Now.” There’s something new in his voice, something muddled, and it takes you a moment to interpret it. It’s desperation, you realize, tinny and deep through his vocoder, and with a surge of adrenaline you move forward, furthering yourself from your group. You swallow. “I-Its this way.” Upon hearing your voice, he spins around, his visor latching on to you, and with a nod you both set out. 

“Watch him,” the Mandalorian growls past his shoulder, stepping over the bounty’s limp body.

///

You’re still not really sure how he knew where it’d be, you wonder to yourself, gravel crunching under foot as you both trudge on, an eery quiet settling over them. You’d say it was a lucky hunch, but judging by the way the Mandalorian carries himself, you doubt luck had much to do with it. 

You had led him to the power generator hub on the other side of the sad excuse for a city, traveling in tense silence, and when you came upon that tall, bulky machine he sprang into action, circling it until he found what he was looking for. The bomb. You stood back, rooted there, and after some grunting and rewiring— or maybe he just hacked at it with a vibroblade, you had no idea; his wide frame engulfed his work and you couldn’t tell what he was up to, all you knew was that his methods proved successful— the man managed to disarm the second device. You had thought you noticed his shoulders release, slumping with relief, after the red flashing lights on the rudimentary interface flickered and then went dark.

And so here you are. The two of you, bathed in the bright light of Lothal’s twin moons, their bellies hanging full in the blue-black night, illuminating the trail of blood staining the dirt beneath your boots as the Mandalorian roughly drags the body by his ankle behind him— through the exploded rubble, through the fragmented lives of the people around you, already displaced and estranged. They’ll all have to move, you think, pack up their lives, or what little is left of them, and relocate. Again. The thought sinks in you like a stone, sobering you. 

Even with the weight of a fully grown man to lug, the bounty hunter is still a few long strides in front of you and your eyes are trained on the unconscious form, taking in the way his mouth lolls open like an animal, his hair matted with thick blood, eyes rolled back into his head. You’re talking out loud before you even realize it.

“How sick do you have to be,” you mumble, transfixed. Your voice, it’s not angry; no, shock has effectively robbed you of that— it’s not anger, but bewilderment. Quivering, broken bewilderment.

“H-How hoodwinked and warped you’d have to be, how disturbed... For you to think like that. To do all... all this...” 

“Hey,” his gruff voice shakes you from your trance, and you blink up at him, tearing your eyes off the body. “Focus,” he urges, and you can only nod dumbly back at him, suddenly feeling a ripple of nausea slither through you.

The ramp to his ship is lowering as they come upon it and you plant yourself at the base, feet seeming to stop on their own accord, and frankly you’re not really sure why you’ve even followed him this far in the first place— always a step behind him as he hauled his bounty all the way through the vestiges of Jortho, across the arid prairie to where he first touched down. Maybe it’s because you feel untethered, unmoored, and all of his steeled surety is like a lighthouse, a beacon, guiding you away from the rocks. 

He heaves X’elo up the ramp and you’re left standing there, staring unseeingly into the durasteel, becoming more and more aware of the ringing in your ears. The longer time passes, the more it’s as if you’re underwater, the background blurring into the foreground, sound gargled and far away. A high pitched buzz pinches your ear drums, and it takes you a moment to realize the Mandalorian is calling out to you, trying to get your attention.

“— Dala.”

Does he sound annoyed? Kriff, you think he might... If you had your wits about you, you might be able to recognize it. But as it stands, you don’t. You’re not here, not all of you. You’re splintered. Suspended.

“Hmm? Sorry, what..?” Your mouth is as dry as Jakku— parched desert tongue darting across your cracked lip, tasting soot and ash and something metallic. Brow furrowed, you touch a shaky finger to the flesh and when you pull it back, crimson red dots your skin. 

Oh, you think, numb. Huh. 

Your eyes skitter back up to the Mandalorian, towering over you, nearly at the apex of the incline, and his stance is broad and his fists are clenched. You’re almost positive he’s glaring down at you through his visor, and you don’t even know the man, can’t even see his damn face, but you can tell he’s peeved— Maker, just how long had you been ignoring him?

A scratched noise comes through his helmet’s vocoder and his next words are clipped, punctuated. “I said, do you have a way off this skug hole?”

[thisisgonnafuxkinkillme]

POV: You Got Wayyy Too High

Warnings: Drug use (weed lol)

Aizawa Shouta/ Eraserhead

“Hey, what are you doing?” asked Aizawa as he plopped his bag at the door. You were trying to smoke weed from a pipe, but instead of lighting the actual herb, you were trying to heat it up from the bottom of the pipe.

You’d never smoked weed, but wanted to try it and bought the supplies from a local smoke shop, as well as buying some good stuff from your friend.

Unfortunetly, you also didn’t bother to look up how to actually use a pipe, instead just relying on knowledge you gained from drug documentaries.

This meant that you only knew how people heated up heroin with a flame under the spoon, which meant that surely you could do the same with weed.

“No, no, no, no. Stop that,” he ordered. You were his age, but nonetheless still buckled under his stern tone.

“Look, do you need me to show you how to do it?” he asked, gently taking the glass pipe from your hand. You nodded.

“Watch carefully,” he ordered, as he properly lit up the herb as he inhaled the smoke. He then passed it to you, watching you carefully to make sure you were doing it right. Soon, you got the hang of it.

Even sooner, though, you were a coughing mess.

“Calm it down, there. Don’t take huge puffs. You’re not impressing anyone here, y/n,” he scolded, taking another puff. He did it effortlessly, as if he’d done it for years. (He has.)

You wanted to impress him, though, even though he seemed to not care what you did. You just wanted to prove to him that you were ~cool~.

Well, this ended up in you looking very... uncool.

While Aizawa was chilling with a pretty decent high, you were laid across the bed, starfish style, blasting music in your ears. You were honestly vibing though, so Aizawa didn’t mess with you. For now.

The next day, he definitely teased you a little bit about how totally out of it you were, and how you listened to the same song on loop for 3 hours.

“How did you know that?” You asked, cocking a brow.

“Uh, because your headphones weren’t plugged in?”

Yagi Toshinori/ All Might

He was smoking when you came home, and though he tried to hide it, you smelled it. He acted as if he was just caught as a 17 year old in his mom’s house.

“Uh, no, it’s nothing! I...I don’t do anything like that!” He insisted.

“Toshi, come on. I can smell it,” you smiled. He covered his face.

“Please, please, keep this between you and I...I only do it because it helps with the pain and-”

You cut him off, “ I dont care why you do it, just lemme have some already!” 

Of course, you were just teasing him, and he knew that, but he couldn’t help but ask, “...You smoke?”

You shook your head playfully.

“If you’ll let me, I’d like to try some, though!” 

He passed it to you, and you took a way-too-long drag. Instantly, you were doubled over, coughing and hacking your lungs out. 

He patted your back firmly.

“Since this is your first time, you’re gonna cough a little. Just try to take smaller puffs and take deep breaths. There you go.”

Once you recovered, and Yagi got his turn, he handed the joint back to you. It continued to be passed back and forth between you two until it was finally no longer than a centimeter. 

For a moment, you both just chilled out on the couch together, just vibing. That was until Toshinori noticed your goofy, dreamy facial expression. He chuckled to himself, but that was all you needed to become hysterical, laughing so hard that you couldn’t breathe. Seeing you laugh so much of course made Toshi a mess as well, which only added to your decent into utter madness.

Eventually, though, you both calmed down, and Toshi excused himself so that he could go take a quick bath. He often did this whenever he smoked, so that the warm water could aid even more in soothing his aching muscles and creaky bones.

So you were left alone. Totally unattended. At first, everything was totally fine.

However, as you started to actually feel the effects of the herb, you began to panic.

Is this normal? Does everyone else feel like this when they smoke? Oh God, this isn’t right...oh fuck, I’m gonna be the first dumbass to OD on THC...fuck...

Thoughts whizzed past your brain, every single one making sure you knew how totally fucked you were.

Tears streamed silently down your cheeks as you counted your pulse with two fingers on your wrist, but you coulnd’t find a pulse.

oh fuck...i’m probably going to pass out any minute now...it’s all over...

Images of your final goodbyes to everyone you loved flashed just behind your eyes.

“How’re you holding up, pumpkin?” asked Toshi, coming back from the bath, in a robe and his golden hair still damp.

You looked at him, your eyes red and puffy.

“Toshi...I’m...I’m dying...I love you, okay?” you murmured. He would have laughed, all except he saw the genuine fear in your eyes. 

He sat down next to you, surrounding you with all of his lanky limbs. 

“You’re not dying, honey. What you’re feeling right now is totally normal, I promise. Take some nice, deep breaths for me. Come on. There you go. Good.”

He cradled you there for a good while, until he felt your tense muscles finally slacken, and your breathing evened out.

Toshi made a mental note to never let you smoke that much ever again, guilt pinching at his sides.

Fatgum/Taishiro Toyomitsu

You had taken an edible cookie from your friend. She told you it was just a small bit in there, just enough for you to feel something.

You decided to be modest, eating just half of the cookie. You didn’t notice any effects, and out of sheer boredom you decided to go ahead and eat the rest of it. No harm in that, right?

Well, an hour later, it kicked in. You were expecting to feel something interesting, but you definately weren’t expecting anything like this at all. 

Everything seemed so far away. Even your breathing sounded like it was coming down a long corridor and echoing to your ears. You could feel your soul swimming in your body. 

Fatgum, who you lived with, luckily finished his hero duties early, and walked into the house joyfully as usual.  He called out your name. You didn’t reply.

His large footsteps could be heard, but you were too busy thinking about how weird breathing sounds to notice. 

Fatgum soon found you collapsed on the bathroom floor, face pressed against the cool tile.

Immediately, he propped you up against the wall, looking into your eyes with great concern.

“What did you take? Y/n, look at me. What did you take?” 

You lazily looked at him, your face completely serious. As serious as it could be, anyway.

“...i...it was...edible...” you mumbled out. As soon as he understood, he was laughing hysterically.

“s..stop...s not funny...” you grumbled, punching him in the gut. 

“Alright, alright... let’s get you into bed. You’ll feel much better once you wake up,” he smiled, picking you up and bringing you into the bedroom. 

You quickly were comforted by the warm, heavy comforter. Fatgum took a moment to look at you in your groggy state, trying his best to hold back a laugh. It was so painfully obvious that you’d never done anything like this in your life. His only regret was not being around to witness your ascent into cloud 9.

Soon, though, you had drifted into dreamland.

Hizashi Yamada

You locked yourself in your bathroom, sneakily lighting up the joint you bought off of your friend. Your boyfriend was in his room, playing Fortnite or some shit, and frankly, you were embarrassed to smoke in front of him. You knew that he’d definately find something to roast you about, and he was relentless.

A couple minutes after you lit up, though, the door was basically busted down.

“HEY, HEY! You better be planning on sharing some of that!” yelled Hizashi, his hand already out and waiting. He still had his headset on, but you saw with relief that his mic was turned off. You passed it to him.

“Augh! Where the hell didja get this weak shit, y/n? Nah, this ain’t gonna cut it,” he complained, putting it out. 

“Hey! I got that from my friend, dude! What the hell?” you frowned. Before you could be too mad at the waste, though, Hizashi pulled out a small wooden box from under his bed. Opening it, he revealed his stash of entirely too much pot.

You covered your mouth, stifiling a laugh. How the fuck could you have not smelled it? 

Within five minutes, he’d rolled up a blunt, and was passing it to you, already lit. 

It was gone after a little over half an hour, and you could already feel the effects. Your eyes were dry, your stomach craving junk food, and your brain craving chill vibes.

He returned to his game, unbothered but his volume definately toned down about 5 notches. He was a lot more chill than you’d ever seen him act, ever.

You found your way into the kitchen.

Once his game was over, he met you in there. You were in front of the fridge, pulling out thing after thing. By the time he’d gotten to you, you had eaten half a jar of pickles, three pieces of cake (with your bare hands), drank a bunch of soda, and you were headed for the chips that were sitting idly on the top of the fridge.

“oh, God...what the fuck are ya up to, dude?” he groaned. He did not want to deal with this mess.

You grinned at him.  “I dunno, maan... look dude could you just get me these up here? please bro...” you giggled. He sighed dramatically, taking them.

However, instead of handing them over to you, with your dirty little fingers, he ate them.

“stoppp, bro, please lemme get some!” you pouted. He acted as if he couldn’t hear you, leaving the kitchen. You followed after him, kicking him in the shins. 

Still, he didn’t seem to notice.

“Hizashi, come on, maaannnn!” 

He laid himself on the bed, covering himself with blankets. He pulled out his phone, calling you.  “Y/n, I miss you so much, man. Come chill out!” he spoke into the phone, trying his best not to break the act. You were absolutely furious at this point, punching at him.

“I’m right here, you doughnut!!” you groaned.  Dramatically sighing, Hizashi frowned, “I really wish y/n was here to sesh with me...” all while still eating the chips. You jumped on top of him. 

Finally, you caught him off gaurd, grabbed the chips, and locked yourself back up in the bathroom. 

This time, though, he just left you be. 

[ynainna]

The Grave of Cecilias

synopsis: Despite it having been several hundred years since the end of the Archon War, Venti’s heart is still heavy with the grief of those he’s lost.

word count: 1,800

pairing: venti x f. reader

genre: angst

warnings: some spoilers from the recent last archon quest (aka the ver 1.1 story update), bad writing lol, angst (but not really I think?)

notes: look, originally my first fic was going to be a Diluc fic so it would be a perfect catalyst for my dumbass self but Venti is just perfect for some angsting time. Sorry in advance for my writing lmfao. I also think some of these facts are inaccurate but I’m a bit stupid and didn’t completely connect some dots from the wiki that I should’ve and due to the fact, ya know, p l o t. Feedback is also welcome but pls be nice about it. This is also extremely bad and  I high key think this is horrible lmao. It’s so bad.

In the days of the Archons, years before the eruption of the Archon War, Gods roamed. Each God was responsible and represented different things, often symbolizing what their powers were. In which there was the God of Dust and the God of Blizzards. Gods had been abundant that it isn’t a surprise that there was once a Goddess of Flora. 

It is no secret that gods gained their power from the worship of others. Due to the Goddess of Flora often being pushed aside to give way to the stronger gods, she had very little following from the people of Teyvat, making her one of the weaker gods. Instead of growing bitter at both her situation and her people, she had embraced her lower status. She was often heard saying, “It is better to be loved by a few who love you for yourself than to be loved by the whole for greed,” in response to them asking about it.

In her small following, there was a civilization that had worshipped her the most. The small civilization had been the ones responsible for the creation of the Cecilia Garden, their gift to the ancient god who had favored the common white flowers, Cecilias, as her favorite.

Cecilias, in the age of the Archon War, wasn’t a rarity and was often the cause of the white sea. The only traces left of the said white sea in the records were from the Cecilia Garden where it was said that it was such a common flower that it was written as “the sea of white flowers”. 

The legends tell very few stories about the fate of the Sea of White, often only found in the debris and faded writings in the ruins of old. Cecilias of this day and age are often only found to grow in the high cliffs, specifically numerous on the infamous Starsnatch cliff. 

Not many know the history of Starsnatch Cliff. Long before it was Starsnatch Cliff or the place where the last of the Cecilias grow, it was simply the plains. 

Cecilias were abundant in the age of the Archons, never far from your sight at every turn. It is a wonder to a few on how a flower had only grown exclusive to one area. 

While not many know the history of Starsnatch, the most one would have to know is it was where the end of a love story between two gods, torn apart by war, was.

Venti’s favorite flower is Cecilias. It’s not his favorite flower due to its simple beauty or even its rarity but due to its history. Prior to the Cecilias, his favorite had been the Dandelions, which was no surprise to others. He had only started to favor the Cecilias near the beginning of the Archon War and even then that was only due to you.

Starsnatch Cliff is many things but to Venti it had only been a reminder of his grief. 

To Venti, it’s your grave.

Venti has lived for more than a thousand years so it’s a given that he would have a few missing memories of the past and a hesitance to recollect any memories from the age of the Archons. Despite it, there are a few he remembers very vividly.

He remembers your smile. It was a soft curve accompanied by cheeks tinged with a faint glow of pink. He remembers your eyes, twinkling, crinkling in the corners in your glee. 

And while he remembers very few things now, he has always remembered every part and memory he has of you, good or not.

The last he has of you was near the beginning of the Archon War.

The first he has of you were at the end of Decarabian’s reign and the death of his dear friend.

He remembers, mourning his death, readying his burial when you appeared with your gentle hands and kind understanding smile. In your hands had been Cecilias, freshly picked.

With your hands you guided him to a place and helped him bury his friend, silence was the only thing between you. You were kind enough to ignore the tears and the sniffles. You finished at sunset. The only trace of you that was left was the picked Cecilias he had first seen you with. Despite his grief, Venti felt the corner of his lips tug up to a small smile.

He doesn’t ask until later on in your friendship about why you had given his friend the Cecilias. You only answer with a small smile at his question. To this day, he still doesn’t know why but he has a feeling.

He treasures the memories of him loving you and mourns the memories he retains of everything of the love lost between you.

The Archon War had not been kind to anyone, even to you and to him. 

It is common knowledge that the Archon War had killed off a lot of gods, many of whom are buried under the grounds and some being sealed off. It was a time of turmoil, you don’t expect or hope to come out of it alive, you only fight and hope it is enough to survive another day.

You were the Goddess of Flora, responsible for the growth of the world’s vegetation. Due to such low status, your responsibilities were very little. The growth of vegetation, the worry for the changing of seasons, and your people had been the only things that were your responsibilities. 

You had no desire for power nor anything more. You had only wished to care for your people to the utmost best of your abilities and to continue living the way you had lived.

But war does not discriminate.

It didn’t matter if you didn’t have the desire to fight others. You fight or you die. You, a god once often seen at the sidelines or invisible, was pushed into the fighting ring built by greed and arrogance.

While you may have not wanted to fight in the war, you had to, if not for you, for your people. In your death, your only thought had been about your people and Barbatos. It had only ever been them.

It’s raining. Venti thinks the world is laughing at them or maybe the God of Storms or Rain is mocking them for being weak, for falling in love at a time like this where it is a sign of weakness.

His hands are bloody and shaking as he holds you closer to his body. His sight is blurred by his tears that are blending in with the rain. Grief is clogging his throat and he can’t breathe. There’s not enough time for anyone to save you.

The previous battle had taken a toll on both of you and Venti. While Venti’s were only fatigue and mild injuries, yours were fatal. You had taken a wound to your gut and while it isn’t often a major injury to gods, your powers had been drained and the fatigue you feel is what makes it fatal. There’s nothing that can fix it.

You know it.

He knows it.

But despite this, logic can’t seem to get through Venti’s panic. His mind is going rampant and he can’t seem to know where to put his hands or what to fix. 

You look at him with your heavy eyelids, lips quivering as you strain your body to move. With great difficulty, you bring your bloody and mangled hands towards Venti’s cheeks, landing heavily. Venti freezes, his eyes wide at the contact.

With a heavy heart, he turns his head towards you to meet your eyes. His hand slowly creeps up to the hand on his cheek. He feels his grief to come back up, scratching and clawing at his heart. When your eyes meet, you smile. Strained and quivering, but a smile nonetheless.

He feels his breath hitch at your smile. You smile like the sunset, the gradual end. The tears come up again, you had only ever smiled like the sunrise and to see it grow smaller, to see it fade is another type of pain.

“Love, no,” he whispers, throat dry as he looks at your eyes. “Don’t leave me. Hang on, please. You’ll be okay. Please. Please. Please...” Venti pleads, voice growing hoarse as the grief creeps back up with ravenous hunger. 

“Barbatos...” you wheeze out, eyes slowly fluttering as you try to hold on for him, just for a few seconds, “I...I... I love...you. T-Thank you...for... for-for lo...ving me.”

“No love, stop. Stop trying to say goodbye, please, no. No. I love you. I love you so much so please don’t leave me. I can’t do this without you,” Venti heaves out with a raspy voice, clutching your hand with a harsh grip in hope of keeping you here, with him.

“Don’t leave me” he cries out.

Even with your injuries and numbness, the sight of his tears and grief caused a pang of pain to erupt. 

“Love,” you rasp out, tears pouring out of your eyes, that were once glittering and now dull, “you have... to let me go.”

“NO!” he denies your pleas. 

“Please... just give me more time with you... anything for you. Please.”

You cough, blood coming up and the cold hands of death creeping closer to you.

“I love you... so much. L-Live on for me... please.”

You don’t hear anything after that, not your lovers sobbing and pleading for you to come back, to hold on.

Not long after, you fade into a million different golden dust. No body left to bury.

In your death, the Cecilias slowly disappear from the world despite your followers trying their utmost best to keep it from dying away. But without their god and with no protection, even they eventually fell. With their fall, the Sea of White was no more.

In memory of you, the world created a grave for you. 

Due to his love and memory of you, Venti caused the winds to only carry the Cecilias seeds to only fly around your grave and causing your grave to be the only place where Cecilias grew. Despite it having been several hundred years since the end of the Archon War, Venti’s heart is still heavy with the grief of those he’s lost.

History doesn’t write of the Goddess of Flora, there isn’t a lot of text written about her in fact. No hints about a possible connection with the Anemo God. And no one needs to know.

All who does is Venti. It’s all he has left of you that’s his and his alone.

In your death, the winds had howled and grew rough and sharp. 

Long before Starsnatch Cliff was anything, it was your grave.

It was the Grave of Cecilias.

[sixeyesgojo]

Team Gojo as flowers

Summary: Gojo, Yuji, Megumi, Nobara and Sukuna as types of flowers

Characters: stated above

Content warning: mild manga spoilers

Word count: -

A/N: I’d appreciate feedback here (and in general) because I’m not sure whether to do this kind of hc for other JJK characters or not. I am thinking of Toge in particular because I love my salmon boy. Also fyi, this was some time after 135 but before 140 for sure.

Gojo Satoru  - Nemophila

I just saw these and immediately thought about how good they would suit him???

another name for them would be baby blue eyes (no, I had no idea beforehand)

they symbolize prosperity, victory, success or triumph over an enemy

flashback to Gojo beating Jogo tf up... but add a nemophila field in the background <3

That being said, his profile literally states that he is perfect in every way (except for his personality but we still love that, right?), so if this isn't success in every way then idk

This flower's essence is also said to be helpful for those who put up a mask over their painful sensitivity

Gojo also displays characteristics of cynism and mistrust towards the higher-ups

Furthermore, I think he is a little anti-social - doesn't have a lot of friends. As someone from the secret Jujutsu World, he's bound to be hidden in a way. This is enforced by the fact that he is the strongest, so a lot of people and curses are out to get his head. I'd think he doesn't keep anyone too close to him so that they do not become a target for anyone. Must be traumatizing to be him.

This flower helps soothen the soul's conflict, healing it slowly, which is exactly what Gojo needs imo

it really is the perfect flower for him

but it's native to North America

Yeah, watch him teleport there to bring back a bouquet of them for his s/o

Itadori Yuji - Protea (orange)

This kind of flower comes in many different shapes, which is why it's a symbol of transformation, which is exactly what Yuji embodies by going from a regular human being to being a Jujutsu sorcerer

Diversity: Yuji is open to anything, Gojo even described him as "having a few screws loose up there". I don't even think he questions how he is being taught by Gojo or anything for that matter?

Yuji also embodies courage and is known to be daring and i don't think i need to explain this one further

I mean, the boy literally jumped right into a curse to rescue Sasaki and Iguchi and help Megumi while not even knowing what a curse is

Orange proteas represent cheerfulness, joy and happiness - if that isn't our sunshine boy, then idk. After what happened to Junpei, he seemed a little down at first but recent episodes have shown that he will not slow down because of that and will keep on being the energetic fluffball of joy that he is.

moreover, they also symbolize unlimited possibilities as his cursed technique so far probably isn't even his final technique yet - compared to Nobara's hammer and Megumi's shikigami. All we know is that Sukuna's techniques are going to be his over time but we don't even know the full extent of the said curse's power yet

If anyone ever mentioned all this to him and showed him the flower, he would think it looks weird at first but will grow to find it interesting (especially the shape). It's not like the flower is native to Japan, so he most likely wouldn't have seen it anywhere.

Gets really excited if you were to give this baby one of these flowers

Fushiguro Megumi - Anemone (purple)

hear me out

The most common symbol for the purple Anemone is 'protection against evil'. While it's Megumi's primary focus in his line of work as a professional, you ought to know he became a sorcerer in the first place because of his sister, Tsukimi.

Fragility: While Megumi shows a lot of potential for growth, it's also said that he will most likely stagnate due to the mental aspect. He's pretty insecure about his own abilities and doesn't think much of himself but that doesn't mean he won't use his powers in order to protect someone.

Anticipation: As previously stated, Megumi shows a lot of potential as a sorcerer, even to the point that Sukuna (mind you, the creature that only cares about himself) has praised him and will not hesitate to make Megumi a pawn to whatever his big, mysterious plans may be. With that being said, if Sukuna himself is interested in our blue-haired boy, we can anticipate great things from Megumi in the foreseeable future.

This specific flower seems to be a double-edged sword in terms of symbolism. In some cultural circles, it is believed to be a symbol of bad luck, whereas in other areas it's seen as a lucky charm (in which we hope this is the one for our boy). I see the same principle applying to Megumi's descent and his mysterious technique - not gonna elaborate further though (feel free to ask though)

a rather dark symbol for this particular flower: "death of a loved one". In this case, I am referring to Tsukimi, his step-sister. She may not be dead but it is indicated that she is in a comatose state due to being cursed. It seems that Megumi does not know when - or rather whether - she will wake up or not. Knowing this boy, he probably has tried anything and everything in his power to wake her up (hell, he probably even consulted Gojo) but nothing worked so far. This poor boy is anxious about it all the time.

he's surprised anyone would even associate him with flowers but wouldn't mind it

Kugisaki Nobara - Orchid (mainly orange)

I had some trouble finding something for her but orchids seem to suit her best

couldn't really pick a particular color though but I am leaning towards orange

orange orchids represent: pride, enthusiasm and boldness

Nobara is very proud of who she is. She strikes me as a person who is not afraid to tell her story, even though she despices the countryside where she is from. She also takes pride in staying true to herself all the time, to the point of admitting that she only enrolled in Jujutsu High so that she could move to Tokyo to Yuji, who was basically a stranger at that time

She is also very enthusiastic about her own future. She knows she won't ever like having to exorcise curses but somehow, being a Jujutsu sorcerer excites her.

plus points for her being enthusiastic about winning in the Kyoto Goodwill Event Arc and just beating up the Kyoto students

I don't need to mention her being enthusiastic about shopping and sightseeing in big cities, do I?

Bold? Oh, she is bold. She has no filter when it comes to speaking her mind and would never hesitate to put anyone in their place. I see her going places in Gojo's revolution... and cussing at the superiors.

Yellow symbolizes new beginnings and friendships. Nobara does not have any problems making new friends, she adapts fairly well in new environments. There's also the way she mourned for Yuji, despite "only knowing him for two weeks" and I don't even doubt for a second that it was her making him hold the black funeral picture frame when he came back lol

Pink: grace, femininity, joy + purple: royalty and admiration

There is no doubt that Nobara tries to enjoy her life to the fullest *cough* moving to Tokyo

Moreover, there is something about her that just screams "queen behavior" to me and I don't even mean that in the slang sense. Have you all seen how graceful this girl moves? (I would like to thank MAPPA at this point)

Nobara shows respect where it's due - I'm just gonna mention Maki here - but is a very admirable girl herself

probably has an orchid plant in her room, ngl

Ryomen Sukuna - Snapdragon

please, the name already sounds a little dangerous

This flower shares a certain character trait with him: being unique

Snapdragons are usually associated with strength due to the way they even grow in rocky areas and if that's not screaming Sukuna's name, who is all about strength, then correct me

Deviousness is practically Sukuna's second name, so this symbol isn't exactly off the track either. Let me remind you about the way Sukuna and Mahito laughed at Yuji??

Graciousness: just like Nobara, he possesses some sort of grace that makes me percept him as a majestic being

but maybe that's just his throne of bones and title as King of Curses contributing

and him owning a shrine???

or maybe that is just the way he majestetically killed that special grade lol

"Only large insects like bumblebees can pollinate snapdragons because the petals are too heavy for smaller insects to push apart." I read this and if you reverse it a little, it somehow reminded me of the fact that Sukuna's fingers need to have a powerful vessel aka small fry won't do because they will simply die away.

Deception: despite being given the minimum amount of information about Sukuna in general, I just don't see him being anything but egoistic and evil. I just cannot picture it. So yeah, put everything evil in a pot, stir a little and don't be surprised if your result is not the Powerpuff girls but a four-eyed multi-talented and deceptive curse that is out to kill you for fun

[thevoilinauttheory]

Fire

[ FFxivWrite2021 Prompt 2: Aberrant ]

The Five Part “In the Dreams of Ashley” series is done! Go read the others here! {Prelude} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Wind} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Fire} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Water} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Earth}

[ HEAVY CONTENT WARNINGS - THIS PIECE IS TO EXPLORE ONE OF MY DEEPEST FEARS CONTAINING: mentions of death/blood, regrets surrounding said death, nightmares, detailed suffocation, detailed description of burning to death, suicidal ideation ]

[ also decided to do a music theme this month and all of these will have musical accompaniment lol ]

To dream that you or someone is being burned alive suggests that you are being consumed by your own ambition. To dream that you are being burned by fire indicates that your temper is getting out of control. Some issue or situation is burning up inside you. If you are setting a fire to something or even to yourself, then it indicates that you are undergoing some great distress. You are at the brink of desperation and want to destroy something or some aspect of yourself.

==

“So how did you even get here?” Ashley shoved a dumpling into his mouth, having yanked it from the pot as soon as he realized it was ready. Ruta had set up a fire, a large heavy pot on top of it, filled to the brim with broth and vegetables. He didn’t question where she got it, or even how she carried it - though common sense dictated that she borrowed the pot from the fishermen in Isari, as well as bought the food; they *were* set up right outside it, of course.

“Hm?” Ruta had her mouthful already, slurping up what noodles were left in her mouth. It took her a good minute to finish chewing so she could talk; and in that time, Ashley had already taken to swishing thin slices of fish around until they were cooked enough to eat.

“Y’know, get here. Back in the cells, you said you were from Kugane… but, uh… no offense, but.” “Because I’m Xaelic?” “...Yeah, sorry. That’s rude of me to point out.” Ruta only laughed. “Yeah… I left that part of me in the Steppes. I was capable, but… I thought, as a kid, if they’re gonna leave me tied up to a tree, I might as well go my own way. What’s to say that it’s not going to happen again?” “Tied to a tree? Oof, that’s rough.” “Made it all the way to Kugane and ran into some nice folks who thought ‘who in the hells let this child run around on her own!’.” She laughed. “They adopted me. Real nice people.” “They still with you?” ”Hope so, it’s been a few years.”

He stared at the flames, leaning back on his hands after he filled himself up on food - thinking about her words, how everyone he knew would have moved on with their lives without him. “Where’re Colette ‘n’Hunter? They’ve been gone a while.” “I think they went ahead to scout for a boat. We gotta leave in the dead of night, if we want a chance at getting past those pirates. You know how to swim?” “Uuhh… I’m gonna say “I’ll figure it out”.” He laughed. “Grew up in a desert, don’t really have time to learn to swim.” “You might have to! If we have to jump off the boat and swim our way there. I’m sure Hunter wouldn’t mind dragging you with him - guy loves to swim.” “Does he?” “I mean… he’s told me as much, at least.” “Hm.” That grin on her face only told him how much she was judging him. “What! Leave me alone! Stop staring like that, gods, it’s weird.”

==

“Don’t y’think you’ve been “retired” long enough?” Ashley leaned back in his chair and kicked his legs up on the table in front of him; he stuck the tiniest crumb of paper under his tongue, then closed his eyes. “Nope.” “Kid, you have to *move on*. Shite like this? This happens all the time - you’ve been sheltered way too long--” “Who died and made you th’boss of my life, huh? If I’ve been sheltered, then y’leave me to be the little bitch I am until I’m *ready* to “move on”. You haven’t experienced what I have. I haven’t experienced what you have.” “How’re you going to make any money to live with an attitude like that.” “Off my savings? My life ain’t your business - you can either sit here and enjoy a drink with me, or you can piss off. I don’t care either way, I ain’t working yet.”

==

He didn’t really need the road down memory lane - but it helped ease the pain, just for a little bit. His boots crunched over the shells and rocks that made up the shores of the Ruby Sea, staring at the water as he strolled. He had always questioned why they had referred to it as “ruby”, there was nothing as brilliant or red about it… back then, of course. He had taken its beauty for granted. The crimson kelp that made up the depths against the sparkling reflections from the sun, everything was so… peaceful. To a degree. He couldn’t account for the Garlean control over the area, and had to be on his toes because of it, but it was nice.

He wished his friends were around to witness it - it was dark when they were able to see it, if one could even call it “seeing”, as much as it was a black pit of unknown they were diving into.

He made a stop in Crick - he wasn’t necessarily welcome, but he wasn’t unwelcome either. They regarded him with impassiveness there, letting him relax as he wished or needed to - which happened to be in front of a fire with a pot attached to it, boiling water. How much longer could he stand to be here? The memories were starting to hurt now, they ached, and suddenly he felt ill to his stomach. That was when he decided it was best to leave, standing up to turn back the way he came - watching the ocean once more with the unevenness of the shore beneath his feet yet again.

There was a fisher’s boat floating in the middle, a small Auri woman casting out a line with a basket of fish next to her. Living a carefree, or… mostly carefree life. Living life as she could, and it seemed she was doing well enough. She turned her head and made accidental eye-contact with him-- those eyes, that face.

“Ruta?” He questioned softly, then smiled brightly and waved. “Ruta! You’re safe! Gods be!” As he watched the woman wave back, his vision blackened - flashes of the body of his fallen friend bleeding out on top of her girlfriend’s, looking behind him as he ran.

The next he knew were flames - and only flames. His whole body was searing, the heat too much for his skin. He tried to pull his foot from the ground, to try and run for the ocean, but he could not move. He stayed in place and it only seemed like the relief of water got further and further away the more he longed for it. It started with his legs, that’s where his eyes turned to next. One foot stood solid in the slowly creeping fount of lava, threatening to take the next one over. What happened? How did he get here? There was no way he would have done this of his own volition, was there? But no, he did - he stepped right into it, a wonder, no, a *knowing* of what the consequence would bring. A solace in knowing that this would be the price he paid for his inadequacies.

Even as he tried to change his mind - tried to scream for help that could not hear him, the fire climbed only higher. All he could do was cry out in pain as he watched his clothes set ablaze, and his skin begin to blacken and peel. The pain of it all, the searing pain of his skin melting from his bones wasn’t even the worst of it; it was the agony of seeing it happen slowly - the scent of the hairs and flesh charring; the popping, bubbling, cracking noises that followed until he was swallowed whole by it. Each scream, each breath, he was forced to swallow the flames until they choked him - then each cough cooked his lungs; his vision was nothing but reds and oranges until it had gone black, and what was left of him could only fall to try and drag itself to an escape out of pure need for survival. Only to be overtaken by the slow and searing pain of pure fire covering the entirety of his body - the last he heard was not the crackling of his bones like tinder, but the paddles of a boat hitting the still water as it passed right by him.

==

His awakening was a slow one this time, feeling the tears that had dried against his cheek. He woke up next to the flames of the dying fire, left alone by the people of the town around him. He was disoriented, confused. When it finally settled that it was a nightmare, he let out a heavy and relieved sigh.

Not quite the same as the last, but no less painful and terrifying.

[msmarvelwrites]

The Winter Soldier - Part 15

Info: A Devastating car crash causes you to lose your memory and start over. The only thing left in the wreckage was the horrific nightmares which plagued your mind. If you knew what today would entail you would have just stayed in bed. But you didn’t and because of that, everything you knew was about to change.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: swearing, gun violence. 

W/c: 2.9k

A/n: I’m double posting for @kalesrebellion​ because she called me out. So here you go babe. Also, I did an embarassing amount of research trying to come up with the basics for the serum. But I concluded that this is fiction and it doesnt really matter. But if you’re ur a science major and this doesnt make sense please dont come for me lol

There are moments in your life that define you. Moments you look back on after everything and wonder, if you had listened to your gut, maybe it would be different. This was one of those moments. Bucky’s world shattered around him as Natasha’s words rang through his comm. 

“We’ve been compromised, Buck. I’ve been hit. They got Y/n.” Her voice, broken and solemn. 

No. 

Dammit, NO.

This isn't how this was supposed to happen. This was an easy job. Only a few Hydra agents resided in this compound. The whole thing felt like a dream. One he was completely and utterly unprepared to handle. How could he let this happen. He should have been there. 

“Dammit. What's your location? I'm coming to you.” He shouted. His blood began to boil and he heard your heavy breathing on the other side. You were running. “Y/n, please come in. Please, doll. Where are you?” Bucky hated how broken he sounded. He knew the rest of the team could hear his begging, but he didnt care. He couldn't. He just needed to get to you. 

“You always were a fighter. Right till the bitter end.” A man’s muffled voice came through his comm. He didn't recognize it as anyone he knew, but there was something familiar about it. A distant memory he couldn't quite piece together. Before he could speak, your voice broke though, a small whisper shattering his heart and sending him into a blind rage. 

“Bucky” You breathed, choking on a cough. 

“Y/n. I’m coming to you, doll. Don't worry, I've got you. I’m going to get you out of this. Don't worry, I’m coming.” He pleaded, but was only met with static, and then finally silence. The rest of the team kept quiet, waiting for any kind of sign of life from you. When none came, Nat spoke up. 

“Guys, we gotta get out of here. They've set off a security alert, this place is going to blow in three minutes.” Her voice was now back to its usual tone, but Bucky knew better. She was scared, he could hear it.  “ There’s no sign of her out here. She’s just… gone.” He could hear that she was running now.

“Bucky, we gotta go.” Steve spoke from beside him. Bucky’s head snapped to his friend, eyes wide and body still frozen. 

“We can't leave. Not without her.” He all but begged. 

“You heard Natasha, she’s on her way.” He paused, “Nat, you got the files?” He spoke into his earpiece, motioning Bucky to follow him to the entrance they had come through. 

“Yeah, I have them. Thanks for asking by the way. I’m great, two more bullet holes in my gut, but yeah, files are more important.” She scoffed, causing Steve to roll his eyes.  “I’m headed to the entrance right now.”

“No, I’m not leaving without Y/n!” Bucky tried to pull away from Steve, but he was stronger. A fact he would never admit to the guy, his head was already big enough. 

“She’s not here Buck. They wouldn't blow the compound with her in it.” He persisted.

Sam’s voice interjected, “Jet’s fired up, you guys better get the fuck outta there. We have less than a minute.” 

Bucky and Steve ran through the dark hallways together until they almost slammed into Nat’s small frame. He gasped when she appeared in the hollow moonlight. Her face was contorted in pain, something he was all too familiar with. Guilt.

“I lost her. I’m so sorry, it was my job to-” She broke off into a sob. Bucky wanted to agree. Yell that if she was a better agent- a better person his girl would be coming home with them. But he couldn't... This was on him. He knew it was a bad idea to bring you on the mission. He deserved all the blame. 

“She’s not dead. Not yet anyways. But we will be if we don't get out of here.” Steve yelled over the alarms blaring in the hallway. 

Bucky and Nat both nodded, and followed Steve across the field. Before they could reach the jet, the warehouse behind them rumbled before letting out an earth shattering explosion, sending the two of them flying into the ground. Without hesitation, Bucky grabbed Natasha's hand and pulled her from the ground. He wrapped her arm around his shoulder and all but dragged her body onto the jet. 

“Vision’s been alerted we need medical. He’s been staying at a safe house in Munich. We can be there in thirty minutes.” Steve spoke urgently, rifling through the cabinets of the jet looking for the first aid kit. 

“Seriously guys, it's a flesh wound. I’m- Ah!” Nat screamed in pain as the jet hit a spout of turbulence. 

“Like you were saying.” Wanda smirked, placing her hands carefully on Nats' wound. Her hands glowed a deep red as she tried to relieve the pain. The spy’s face relaxed, but only for a moment before she was back to worried. 

“He’s alive, Buck.” Nat spoke, and when she did, he could hear the fear in her words. 

“Who?” Steve demanded, but Nat’s eyes stayed put on Bucky’s. 

“Tommy. She said his name in the hallway. It was him, Buck. He’s not dead. He’s the one that shot me, the one that took her.” Nat flinched in pain as Wanda's hands fell from her side. 

“That’s not possible.” Bucky shook his head. “Steve found my mission file. I killed him. I remembered it. You just don't walk away from that.” 

“Well, clearly you do.” Nat spoke sarcastically, pointing to the gushing holes in the body. 

“So Tommy’s alive? And he’s Hydra now?” Wanda asked, suddenly realising her hands were not on Nat’s wounds anymore. She placed them back silently apologising. 

“And he’s got Y/n.” Bucky added, his jaw clenched in anger. 

“We’ll get her back.” Steve spoke. He placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder which he quickly shrugged off, pacing back and forth through the small aircraft. 

“I know we will. And i’m going to finish the fucking job and tear that prick in two.” He seethed, mostly to himself. 

He tried to focus on the task at hand. Desperately brainstorming how to get to you, but his mind was spirling. How could he just leave you? How could he have been so stupid? The sound of his name leaving your lips echoed around him, only fuling his growing rage. 

“All our tactical suits have hidden trackers in the sleeves. We will hear it go off, but until then we wait. They cant have gotten far.” Steve started as the jet began its descent. “We're almost at the safe house. We’ll track her from there. In the morning, we’ll head out.”

“Morning? That's too long. She could be-'' Bucky cut himself off, too broken at the thought to finish that sentence. “I’ll find her myself tonight.” He grumbled. 

“Oh no you don’t. We’re a team, Buck. We do this together. Vision will be able to enable her tracker. But we need to work together. We can't lose anybody else to impulse decisions.” Steve scolded. 

He knew his friend was right but it didn't make it any easier to agree. All Bucky wanted to go but get you back. Keep you safe and never let anyone touch you again. He tried to keep his distance before, he really did, but that was out the window now. There wasn't a chance in hell he was leaving your side after this. As for the man that ripped you from his grasp, oh boy… He tried not to make a habit out of fantasizing murder, mostly as it resulted in the Winter Soldier coming out of the shadows, but if that was the case with Tommy, so be it. Only when Bucky stood in a pile or carnage and gore and blood would he finally feel peace again...

“We're coming up on the safe house. Y'all ready to bail?” Sam's voice tore Bucky out of his thoughts, and thankfully so. He was sure it was leading to a very destructive path. 

“Buck, help us get Nat inside. Wanda and Sam - sweep the area, make sure no one has followed us. I’ll fill Vision in on what's happened and see if he can turn on Y/n’s tracker now.” Steve commanded as he hopped out of the jet. 

“Can you stand?” Bucky asked, dipping down to tuck Nats arm around his shoulder, helping her up. She nodded reluctantly, wincing in pain as she moved. 

The safe house was a small cabin in the middle nowhere. Munich was only a few minutes down the road but the thick coverage of trees that surrounded the cabin made it feel secluded and hard to be spotted from above.  If they weren't followed, no one would ever know they were here. 

Bucky helped Nat inside, letting Steve and Wanda take over once they were through the door. Before he could enter, he stopped, taking a moment to gaze upon the sun rising over the mountains. In a few hours, he’d be with you again. He just had to make it until then, and pray to whatever god would still have him, that you were alive. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Продолжай копать. Нам надо её найти.” Keep digging. We have to find it. The voice rang in your mind, waking you from the recurring nightmare. Visions of Tommy and that boyish smile that once brought so much happiness.. His voice, the way it used to say your name, now only causing you ache. 

“Wait, rewind there! Вернись. That’s it.” The voice spoke again, echoing around the room. You opened your eyes slowly, taking in your surroundings, but all you were met with was darkness. You could feel movement around you, but the blindfold tied around your eyes masked their faces. 

“I’m positive she told me what was in that serum.” His voice caused your heart to just about leap from your chest. You knew that voice anywhere. 

“You better be right. You're as good as dead to me otherwise.” Another man spoke. 

“No I’m sure. Wait! Right there. Replay that part.” Tommy asserted. 

Suddenly a headache burned through your temples, scorching the inside of your eyes. You screamed in pain as it coarsed though your body until an image appeared in your mind. It replayed over and over, making you dizzy. 

“Whatcha doing?” Tommy cooed, taking a seat on your desk. 

“Just trying to find the right components.” You spoke, not taking your eyes microscope as you examined the petri dish below. 

“Cummon, baby. You've been at this for hours. Come eat something.” You looked up, Tommy stood there with that big goofy smile you loved so much. 

“I’ve almost got it. Just a little longer.” You reassured him, rolling in your chair and picking up another sample and analysing it. 

“What exactly is, it?” he asked, emphasizing the word. 

“If I mix the steroid with-” 

Another shrieking jolt of pain seared through you as the memory disappeared, leaving you trembling. 

“Go back, we almost had it!” Someone yelled from beside you. 

You tried to scream, to beg them to stop, but it was no use. Before you could try again, the same horrible pain erupted through your body, ripping you back to the distant memory. 

“If I mix the steroid with human blood, it does as it's designed.  But taking into account the theory of nuclear transmutation, we can assume given the right element we can use the serum to absorb its surroundings, right?” You spoke, like it was common sense. 

“Sure…” Tommy chuckled. 

“So, strip down the original serum, add radiation to its compound, now it needs the ability to absorb energy… What element do we know has that power?” it wasn't a question, nor did you think Tommy would know the answer so you continued, “Water, and our bodies are basically made of that. So in turn, if we can create the original serum mixed with high levels of radiation, inject the person, granted you're not killed by that high levels of toxicity, we're looking at a new type of Super Soldier. One that could, in theory, mutate around the serum and absorb its surroundings!” You finally finished.

“I have no idea what any of that means… But it sounds cool. Now put the vile down, and eat something.” He laughed, grabbing the sample out of your hands and carefully placing it on the table next to you.

“Thats it!” Someone shouted. “Of course, why didn't we think of this. Call the commander, tell him we found it.” 

You felt your body twist in agony, but soon the memory left, leaving you back in the dark with disembodied voices echoing around you. 

“What do you want me to do with her?” a man asked. 

“I don't care. убить её?” Kill her? You froze at his words. Even if you could move, your hands were tied down to the chair. Gentally you wiggle your fingers, careful not to draw any attention to yourself. Not that you would be able to tell. The ring that Shuri had made you was still there. If you timed in right, and you still had Wanda’s borrowed power, you could use it to untie yourself and hopefully get the fuck out of this hell hole. 

“Kill her?” Tommy choked. “You didn't say anything about killin’ her?” 

“You should be thankful. The girl’s been sharing a bed with the same man who killed you once before. In fact, I’m so pleased with your work developing this memory decoder that I’ll give you the honour.” The man spoke, shuffling around the room. “Here, tell me when you're done having your fun.” A few heavy footsteps later, and you finally heard the door close. The silence was deafening, but eventually, Tommy let out a deep breath and took a step towards you, ripping your blind fold off. 

You squinted as you tried to acclimate your eyes to the lighting of the room. It was small and dark, but a few dim lights hung above you illuminating Tommy's features. Once upon a time you would have described them as strong and rugged. Now they seemed to loom over you, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, softer than you expected. You quickly clocked the pistol in his left hand and tried to suppress a scoff. 

“Am I okay?” You gawked at him. “You just dug through my head like a sand pit. No- no I’m not okay you shit head!” You screamed. 

Tommy chuckled, using the gun to scratch the back of his neck. “Touché…” He spoke, pulling up a stool and plopping himself down on it infront of you. “I missed that attitude baby. Really, these past couple years have been hell without you. These guys are really scary, but I told em- I said, my girl will know what to do. And you did, baby. I never doubted you.” His voice was like honey. Thick and sickenly sweet. 

“What are you talking about?! I thought you were dead!? I mourned you, asshole. And you've been alive this whole time, working against me?” You couldn't believe how cavalier he was being about this. Tommy only shrugged, fuling the rage inside you. 

“Nah, it's not like that. I was dead, really I was. But then Hydra came and BOOM I was back. They promised me that they’d keep me safe, as long as I could help em get that serum you were always talkin’ bout. Said they wanted to give it time in your system, make sure it didn't kill ya.” He started, narrowing his eyes slowly, “You grieved me? That's a funny way of putting it. Cause from what I saw in that head of yours, you were pretty chummy with that Soldier.”  

You couldn't stifle the scoff that erupted in your mouth. “You're kidding right? Jesus, Tom. They brainwashed me. And I don't need to explain myself. You're sick, you know that?  How could you do this? Do you have any idea what they're going to use that serum for?” You fired the questions off like explosives into his chest, but he didn't even flinch. 

“I don't really care. They told me if I gave em’ your little recipe, they’d let me go.” He shrugged. 

“And so what? Now you're going to kill me?” 

“No… Maybe. I haven't really decided yet.” He looked down at the pistol like it was the first time he really noticed it was there. Contemplating your death like he was deciding between his morning coffee. 

“I would get going on that if I were you.” You lifted your hands, wiggling your wingers playfully “Really, Tommy, you're not cut out for this line of work.” You spat, jumping from your seat and landing a hard kick to his gut, sending him flying back. The gun ricocheted off the ground and hit the wall, but before he could react, you grabbed it. In one swift move you turned the safety off and placed your finger on the trigger. 

“Cummon baby, let's talk about this.” He raised his hands in surrender. “You wouldn't shoot me.” 

You cocked a brow, “You sound really confident in that statement. Especially for a boy who was debating my death a moment ago.” You argued. 

“Dont take it personally, baby. Anything you can do, I can do better. Remember?” You smirked. 

................................................................................................................................

A/n: Another Cliff hanger? Yes. Do I know how to wrote anything else? No... My bad lol. I hope your enjoyed this one as much as I did writing it! As always, @cutie1365​ is the bomb dot com for editing this for me. Tommy sucks, we both agree. I hope he gets whats coming to him... please leave some love and reblog if you read it! 

@kalesrebellion​

@projectcampbell​

@calwitch​

[shadow--writer]

And I'm Gonna go There Free, Like the Fool I am and I'll Always be

How chaotic can one Shade with the ability to word get? just learned to do a fancy thing too look at me go

The answer is very. Will I make a series after this? Who knows it’s very tempting. God I should make a post about this au as well lol. I pounded this out in one sitting btw. (song btw). 

--Maeve x Lucas (WITH some Amani x Zora in there too bitches look at me)--Modern au but not fight club lol my own kinda modern au-ish--4.2k words holy shit--

TW: none!

Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, tHEY ARE SO CUTE OMFG, Amani is a shithead, good lord I hope I got Zora’s character right, dancing, how much domestic fluff can I fit into one fic, FRIENDSHIP, dorks in love

In which dance lessons take a...different turn. Also Amani breaks into Maeve’s apartment and steals a barstool.

@mineshaft-birdie @dela-png

The day was a slow one. It was midafternoon and they had just finished up spring cleaning. 

She swayed her hips, humming along to the music playing. Lucas watched her from his spot on the couch, his off tune hum making her smile. She arched her back, leaning back with another sway. Her fingertips brushed the floor before she brought herself back up to her feet. 

He clapped making her giggle. “Amazing,” he said, a smile clear in just the tone of his voice. 

“I can teach you, you know,” she said, looking back at him. He held out a hand for her to grab, leading her to sit down on his lap. She straddled his hips, tucking her feet under his thighs. “How to dance, I mean,” she said, kissing his cheek. 

“You’ve seen me dance.”

“Exactly. You’ve seen me cook and yet you still try to help me. I want to do something for you in return.”

“Like teach me to dance?”

She leaned back, smiling. “Yeah! It’s fun. It’s great to let off steam, and it’s quite a workout. Besides I just...want to see you dance.”

“...I look like a dead fish a little kid is playing with.”

“Whoa that was specific.”

“...mmmmhm.”

She snorted, kissing the tip of his nose. She was not going to ask.

She pushed up off his lap, shrugging her jacket off. He let out a low whistle, making her laugh as she tossed the jacket aside. 

“Didn’t know it would be this kind of dancing.”

“Oh hush.” She shot him a look over her shoulder, throwing her hair up into a messy ponytail. “Can you help me move our furniture? Unless you want to move to my studio?” Her aerial silks studio. Only reason she bought this apartment. 

That and the nice view (along with walking distance to work but shush). 

“...I might wreck your TV.”

“Studio it is then. If you want to get changed that’d be good too. Jeans aren’t uhh...the best to learn a dance in.”

He let out a low sigh before getting to his feet. “Studio?”

“Yeah I just need to clean it up a little.”

“...you’re not gonna back down from this, are you?”

“Nope! Now go change.” He ruffled her hair against her protests, steps heavy as he walked to their bedroom. “The shirt is optional!” she called after him. 

He snorted, yelling back. “So is yours!”

She bit her lower lip to keep from grinning, fixing her ponytail. She grabbed her phone, going over into the studio to pin up her silks. On her way she picked up a little green box from the table in the hall. That same table Lucas kept bumping his legs against. 

She giggled at the thought, feeling nerves and butterflies flutter in her stomach as she looked at the box. She told Amani about what she was planning to do and today felt...right. 

Shoving it in her pocket she went to pin her silks up. 

He walked into the studio by the time she was finishing pinning the last one. She knew he had walked in due to the laughter. 

So yeah maybe she was on her tiptoes on a ladder. 

Har de har har.

“You know if you needed help you could’ve just asked,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. She turned to look at him with a little huff, the ladder shaking under the abrupt movement. 

“Well I’m sorry I was cursed with being short.”

“You sure you don’t need help?”

“I’m doing just fine thank you,” she sniffed, turning back around. She finished pinning the last silk, climbing down and putting the ladder back where it was. Smoothing down the front of her crop top she turned to look at him. 

“Okay now. That’s done, we can get into it!”

“...hurray.”

“Oh come on a little more pep please.”

“...hurray?”

“....that’ll have to do for now. Now where do you want to start?”

“Something easy?”

“...hmm wanna try mambo?”

“Is it easy?”

“Well not easy easy but it’s not that complicated. We can start with some of the simple movements, like the forward back step. If you’re feeling up for it I can also teach you how to dip.”

“Dip?”

She pursed her lips, walking back over to him. He had shed his jacket and opted for sweatpants. She was a little disappointed he still had his shirt on but she could wave it off. They both were in socks, making mambo a little harder but she was up for the challenge. 

“Here I can show you…” she said, grabbing his hands. He just watched her as she shifted one of his hands up on her shoulder, the other on her upper arm. She did her best to keep her hands on his upper back, leading him into a small side shuffle to lead into the dip. 

Keeping her body straight she shifted her weight into dipping him. His hands gripped her arm and shoulder, eyes widening. 

Good gravy was he heavy. 

“The hell are they feeding you?” she breathed. 

He blinked before laughing. “Ouch firefly, that stings.”

She rolled her eyes, lifting him back up. She let out a little huff of air as he kissed her softly. After pulling away he stood upright. “So that’s a dip. Think you’d be up for learning it?”

“It doesn’t seem super hard.”

She brightened. “It really isn’t! When you do dip me though, don’t lean close, it hurts my back.”

“Ah! Gotcha.”

“For now it’s forward backward mambo steps!” She grinned a little, adjusting the ribbon in her hair. He stared at it for a moment, the deep blue bringing out the darkness of her hair. She smiled, grabbing his hands again. 

“Where’d you get that?” he asked. 

“Aislin bought it for me a while back. Haven’t had the chance to wear it.”

“It’s beautiful on you.”

“O-Oh,” she stuttered, her cheeks warming. She ducked her head a little, embarrassed. She still wasn’t used to his out of the blue compliments even after being with him for so long. 

He coughed, squeezing her hands. “Dancing?”

“Yes! Right! Dancing!” she chirped, head snapping back up. Her brows were set with determination. 

She was going to get him to dance well. She would or she’d die trying. 

“So...where do we start?” he asked, just standing there awkwardly. 

“Well first with foot movements. Then hand placements. Put it together. Forward and back are the easiest steps, but it gets harder with more complex hand movements and spins.”

He looked horrified, she quickly cut back in. “For now though, forward and back. After you learn to dip me maybe we can learn side to side.” 

He nodded, a stubborn gleam sneaking into his eye.

“So first is how you move your feet.” She let go of his hands, moving to a spot in front of him. “We start on the second beat, and when we dance together we start on our right foot.”

She stepped forward on her right foot, brought it back to the middle with her left, back behind her, and finished by bringing it back to her left in the middle. 

“Oh that...doesn’t seem all that bad.”

“When you move faster it gets a little tricky, but yeah! Not super complicated. When you add the hips in…” she repeated what she did, but swaying her hips side to side along with her arms. “Now you try it with me!”

His movements were a little jerky, and he kept overstepping the middle but…

“You’re doing great!” she said with a large grin, backing up to set up music on her phone. Soft riffs of a guitar played as she shuffled her playlist.

“Can we...try it together?” he asked, eyes lighting up at her praise. He held a hand out for her to take. She walked closer to him, his hand warm and all encompassing around hers. 

“Sure. Arms.” He squeezed her hand once before letting it go and held his arms out. She lifted his left arm up, lacing their fingers together. She moved his other hand to the small of her back, resting her arm on top of his, not quite reaching his shoulders. One issue with a height difference was that dancing would be a pain. 

“Like this?” he asked, fingers tapping on her back. She squirmed a little at the touch, making him smile.

“Yeah! But not as tense,” she said, starting them off. He fell into it pretty quickly, what she dubbed his ‘focused face’ coming back into play. She felt a dopey smile climb across her face as she looked at him. 

When he got closer she shifted him back with a small glare. “Dance space, my love.” She let go of his arms to gesture. “This is mine.” She made a circle with her arms, he did the same. “That is yours.”

She grabbed his hands again. “No looking down,” she said with a giggle. “My eyes are up here. You can do this.”

They quickly fell into a rhythm, he was catching on quickly.

Then his arms got too loose. And he got very grabby, his hands traveling down south to her butt. 

“Noodle arms!” she gasped, moving her arm from his shoulder to swat his hand. “No wandering hands!” He pretended to pout, falling back into the dance again. 

He went in for a kiss, she moved her head so he got her chin and neck. His lips traveled down her neck as she squirmed, pushing at his chest with a laugh. “You are invading my dance space!”

She let go of him, pointing to her space again. “This is my dance space.” She pointed back to him. “That is yours. Let’s try it again.”

They went back to it for another moment, her eyes darting to her feet, before he tugged her closer, tilting her head up. “Don’t look down,” he said, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Look right at me.”

She snorted, stretching up on her toes to kiss his neck. “Hey now! Dance space!” he said with a laugh, pushing her back into position. His hair was escaping the little ponytail he had tied at the nape of his neck. She fought the urge to run her hands through it as it curled around his face in an adorable way. 

After their laughter quelled they settled into the movements. His tongue peaked out from between his lips as he concentrated, brows furrowed. He was slowly getting the loose but structured part of the arms, them moving in sync. 

Then ‘Toxic’ started blasting. She started humming along, lip syncing to it. He snorted, losing the rhythm a little as he watched her lose the mambo, moving her shoulders to the beat.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You love me.”

“Very much, but you’re still ridiculous.”

She arched her back away from his hands, spinning out of his grip, lip syncing but with passion. He laughed, moving back closer to her. She held and shook her head at ‘spinning round and round’ as he hooked his fingers through the belt loops of her pants. 

“Do you feel me now?” she sang softly, smiling. He rolled his eyes once before kissing her. She giggled, swaying back and forth in his arms. 

“What’s up bitches!” someone yelled from behind them. They jumped apart, Lucas yanking his hands out of her belt loops, her tripping over her own feet, face burning crimson. Toxic still merrily played behind them. 

“Amani, you spooked them.”

“Good.”

Maeve spun to look at the intruders. Ah. Of course. Amani. Oh but Zora was with her. That was great. The only voice of reason in this fucking group had just broke into her house. Ah yes that bode well. 

Maeve rubbed her temples before cracking an eye open. “How the fuck did you get into my- ...is that a barstool from my kitchen?” 

“Yeah,” Amani replied with a shrug. 

“...you just broke into my apartment, grabbed a stool from my kitchen, and brought it into the studio with you?”

“Well there’s no other fuckin places to sit in this studio besides the floor and I’m not an animal!”

“...yeah. Sure.”

“Maeve!” Amani gasped, offended. 

“Well sweetheart, we did break into her apartment.”

“Not my fault she keeps the spare keys by her bed!”

“So that’s where they went!”

“...Zora I can’t believe you fed into this,” Lucas said once he got himself together from the embarrassment of being walked in on. “I thought you were the smart one.”

“Oh no I’m the one who acts smart but is the worst out of all of you.”

“WHY ARE YOU IN MY HOUSE?!”

Amani had set the stool down and was sitting on it the way a man on the subway would sit. 

Aka Legs spread and looking like she was going to melt right off of it. Maeve could feel a headache coming on. 

“Was bored,” Amani offered. 

“...so you decided to commit a crime?”

“Yeah.” 

“Amani I’m gonna need a better answer than that for I am three seconds away from throwing you out a window.”

“Ouch Maevey that hurts.”

“One...two.”

“Got bored and decided to say hi. ‘Sides I brought the keys back.”

Maeve turned to look at Zora. Not the answer she wanted but it would do. “And you. What is your excuse?”

“Amani dragged me along. I was also bored.”

She turned to look at Lucas. “So these are the people we surround ourselves with?”

“Apparently.”

“Look without us you two would’ve been gettin it on in the studio. Woulda made a mess,” Amani cut it. Maeve felt her ears go red.

“We were not,” she sputtered. “I was teaching him to dance!”

“...uh huh.”

“That’s it!”

“It’s true! She’s teaching me mambo.”

“...can he actually dance it though?”

“Amani I’m hurt by that statement.”

“Well can he?”

“We’re learning forward backward steps Amani. He can’t mess those up.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Amani I thought we were friends!”

“Exactly.”

“Amani!”

Maeve snorted, looking over at Zora who was trying not to laugh. “Bored you say?”

“Well that and Amani just wanted to see you two.”

“...see us?” Lucas asked. “Why?”

“Uhh to congratulate the happy couple on their engagement, duh.”

“Amani!” Zora hissed, gesturing to both of their very empty ring fingers. Amani didn’t see her girlfriend’s increasingly panicked hand movements. 

Maeve felt her heart stop and sink straight into her feet. All the colour drained from her and Lucas’s faces. 

“...engagement?” Lucas peeped. 

Amani watched their reactions, face growing more confused. “What? You did ask her, didn’t you?”

“...no.”

Amani’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “Oh SHIT.”

Zora smacked her forehead. “Oy vey,” she muttered. “Amani, baby, I love you but-”

Maeve didn’t hear the rest of her sentence, she only turned to look at Lucas. He still looked broken, she swore she could hear dial up streaming from his ears. 

“Darling?” she asked softly. He turned to look at her, cheeks reddening. 

“I have something to tell you,” they both sputtered at the same time.

She blinked. “You first.” Again said at the same time. 

“No you,” she said.

“No no, yours sounds important.”

The box in her pocket grew heavier with every heartbeat. God damnit Amani. 

“Well I...um,” she looked away, fidgeting. She never really felt nervous like this but...it was a big moment. 

She turned to shoot a low glare at Amani who only offered up a small nervous smile. God fucking damnit. 

“Well I was planning on doing this while we were alone,” she huffed, looking back at Lucas. She shoved her hand in her pocket, trying to fight the stutter out of her voice. “But apparently we had two guests coming over.”

“Just get it over with- OW!” 

She looked just in time to see Zora elbow Amani in the side. Amani muttered bitterly about how that ‘fuckin hurt’. Zora only shot Maeve a smile and a thumbs up. 

While she appreciated the sentiment…

She looked back at her boyfriend, letting out a low sigh. “I love you.”

“...uh oh.”

“Oh hush you.” He chuckled. It was like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. “Fuck, I love you,” she whispered. He blinked, almost shell shocked. “I want to marry you,” she blurted out. 

“Yeah I love you- w-what?!”

She pursed her lips, letting out a little sigh. “Goddess I’m no good with words. Sometimes I wonder how I even got to date you. I’m blunt and mean and rude and vulgar but…” she dragged the box out of her pocket. “I managed to fall in love with a dumbass and a dork so it isn’t all that bad, right?”

“Maeve?”

“Holy fuck Lucas she’s asking you to spend the rest of your lives together!” Amani yelled from where she was sitting. 

No yelp, in fact Zora was nodding. The look Maeve shot her said all she needed to know. “What? Ami isn’t wrong.”

“You two are the worst,” Maeve groused. 

“You want to...marry me?” Lucas finally let out. 

She opened the box she was holding, rolling her eyes with a little smile. “Well yeah. After I kill Amani.”

“HEY!”

The ring itself was simple. It was only an engagement ring after all. Her grandfather made it a while back when she brought up the whole ‘getting married’ thing (he talked her ear off too. Her phone bill spiked). It was a silver band with a deep green stripe running through the middle. The green shimmered into something lighter when she moved it. 

“That’s funny,” he said, hand disappearing into the void that was his sweatpants’ pocket. He could shove both her and his hand in that thing. Of course she was jealous of it. 

He pulled out a ring. Not just any ring but her mother’s wedding ring. 

She felt tears well in her eyes. She had told him about it a while back when they first started dating. She didn’t know he remembered. The ring was a simple small silver band. It was braided into a celtic knot with a little turquoise at the top where the knots met. 

“I was gonna ask you the same thing.” He shot her a lopsided grin, her heart skipped a beat. “I uhh...I’m also no good with words but I love you, firefly. Of course I wanna spend the rest of my life with you.”

“I fucking love you giant.”

“There she is. I was getting worried with all your sappy talk.”

“Oh shut up,” she laughed. 

“But I didn’t get an answer.”

“Neither did I.”

“Well mine is ‘of fucking course’.”

“Hey you stole my answer!”

He chuckled as she slid the ring onto his hand. She rolled her eyes. “Fine. My answer is yes.”

“You don’t sound too happy about it.”

“You stole what I was gonna say.”

He laughed again, kissing her knuckles as he slipped the ring onto her finger. “You love me.”

“I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t.”

“FUCKIN FINALLY!”

“Amani you’re the one that almost ruined it.” “I DON’T CARE!”

A little sigh. “Sometimes I wonder why I love you so much.”

“For my stellar personality obviously.”

Zora giggled, Maeve turned in time to see her plant a kiss on Amani’s cheek. “That and just because I love you.”

“I cannot believe Amani almost ruined this,” Lucas muttered. She turned back to him, laughing as she got closer. She grabbed his left hand with hers, liking how their rings glittered when they moved. He ran his thumb along her knuckles, pausing at the jewelry. 

She lifted her head up, him leaning down to kiss her. 

Then Amani started screeching like an alarm. “THIS IS THE PURITY UNTIL YOUR WEDDING NIGHT ALARM. No handholding of any kind.”

Maeve giggled, joining in on the tomfoolery. Lucas sighed. “No need to worry, I am pure. We haven’t even shared a kiss.” 

Oh yeah they all knew that was a fucking lie.

“Oh? Not one kiss?” Lucas asked, grinning. 

“Nope. My lips are innocent. Saving them for my wedding.”

He bent down close, surprising her with an open mouth kiss. She let out a little squeak as his tongue tapped her teeth once before he pulled away. “That good enough for a first kiss?”

“Well it was supposed to be on my wedding night but…” she smiled, fiddling with the ring on her finger. “It’ll do.”

Amani let out a dramatic gag. “You two are disgusting.”

“Imagine what they’d be doing if we weren’t here,” Zora said, love clear in her tone. 

Amani gasped. “You’re right! Defiling the name of marriage I say!”

“Oh like the two of you are any better,” Maeve shot back. “Do I have to recount the amount of times I’ve caught you two in the storage closet at the pub?”

Zora chuckled. “Well you and Lucas in the pantry aren’t any better.”

“Let’sjustcutitandsayifanyofuswerecaughtbyourbossatworkwe’dbefired,” Lucas sputtered out, face going red. 

“Aww, but baby I thought you liked the thrill,” Maeve cooed. 

He shot her a low glare. Amani cackled. “Degenerates!” she yelled. 

“Amani, my love, my sweetness. Pot. Calling. Kettle. Black,” Zora said.

Amani gasped, melting completely off the stool. “My own girlfriend! Betraying me! Oh woe is me! The agony!”

They all giggled at Amani’s actions, she and Lucas scooting closer together. He wrapped his arms around her waist, swaying back and forth. The music and dancing lessons were long forgotten. 

“How about we go out for dinner tonight,” Maeve offered. 

“What? Like a double date?” Amani asked from her spot on the floor. Zora was laughing too hard to help her up. 

“Hmm...no. More like a party!”

Amani’s eyes lit up. “HELL YEAH A PARTY! We gonna get smashed and cause chaos?”

“...well sure.”

“Fuck YEAH!”

“...you are making my life so much harder,” Zora sighed, smiling. She looked back at Maeve again. “Who knew a pip squeak like you could hold your liquor so well.”

“I am not that short!”

“I will beat you at one of those games Maevey!”

“Maeve, you are the shortest out of all of us. You look like a kid.”

Maeve pouted. “Yeah I can still drink you all under the table. Yes even you Amani Ms. ‘can’t-play-guitar-sober-but-somehow-can-drunk’.”

“OH SHUDDUP!”

Lucas laughed, squeezing Maeve’s hip before going over to squat by Amani. 

Zora walked over to the now abandoned Maeve. “Well...how are you feeling?”

“Like I’m gonna wake up any second?”

“That’s fair.”

“You think you and Amani will do this?”

“What?”

“Get married.”

Zora’s eyes remained on Lucas now crying about how gravity was increasing on him. Amani let out a squeal as he fell on top of her. 

“Well...maybe. I haven’t thought that far. I love Ami but who knows where our future lies.”

“A wedding with you two would be pretty chaotic.”

“Oh yes definitely. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“LUCAS GET OFF ‘O ME YA SEMI TRUCK!”

“Amani that hurts my feelings!”

“GET OFF!”

“For that comment? No!”

Maeve and Zora giggled. “I am happy for you and Lucas. Sorry Amani almost ruined it, don’t think she realized.”

“Oh no I’m more mad about the fact you two broke into my apartment again. You should just take the key.”

“...you sure about giving us the key?”

Maeve sighed. “You’re gonna take it anyways. I can just get another spare made.”

“Amani is gonna take that as an invitation to come over as often as she can.”

“Good to know. My room locks will be changed.”

Zora snorted. “Once again, congrats. Sorry you had to do that infront of us.”

“Remind me to strangle Amani later.”

“...mmm fine but don’t wreck her pretty face.”

“Noted.”

“When are we gonna go! I wanna party!” Amani whined from where she weaseled out from underneath Lucas.

“You do realize this is a celebration of mine and Maeve’s engagement right?”

“Yeah it’s also an excuse to tell embarrassing stories.”

“...oh no.”

Maeve perked up. “Oho? Stuff I don’t know? Let’s go.”

“First we’re gonna give you a makeover,” Amani said, walking over to drag Maeve out of the studio. 

Zora untied her blue ribbon, handing it over to Lucas. “Milady’s token of her affection,” she said with a curtsy. Maeve’s protests went unheard. 

He bowed, making Zora smile. “I thank you for the token of her affection. I will treasure it always.”

“You better be planning to give that back later,” Maeve groaned as Amani dragged her away. 

“Depends. It is a token of my love’s favour.”

“Ugh I hate you.”

“But you’re still marrying me~”

She sighed. “Of course. How could I forget.” She looked back at Amani. “And the fuck are you doing?”

“Gods you need your ears checked. I am giving you a makeover for your engagement party.”

“What? Why?! I look fine!”

“Well the high waisted pants with your crop top is cute and all, I want to make you so fucking hot Lucas kneels over.”

“She does that every time I see her,” Lucas called from the doorframe. 

Maeve glared at him. “Don’t encourage her.”

He only smiled, waving at them as they made their way to her room. Zora was making sure Maeve wouldn’t escape. To her short ass it was like two very tall amazon ladies were her escorts. 

Or in this case prison guards. 

“I’d like to see them try to make you even more gorgeous,” he said with a wink. “It’d be a fun challenge.”

“We have Zora on our side!” Amani grinned. “You get dolled up too and then we go cause a ruckus!”

Maeve sighed. 

It was going to be a long, chaotic night. 

[vrainsrewatch]

episode 19 thoughts

this is... the most screenshot heavy post i’ve made so far, lmao, so please bear with me. as i’ve said, this is one of my favorite duels, and there’s a lot that gets covered here. like, seriously, i haven’t written this post out yet but i can guarantee this will be my longest so far lmao.

the beginning of the episode starts off fairly standard, and mostly dueling:

i really do love the pacing of this duel. i was glued to the edge of my seat while watching these episodes. i remember it so clearly, too, because i’d been binge watching from episode 16 that day, and got to like, 24 by the time i stopped, lmao.

ai does a lot of cute/funny stuff this episode, to help break up some of the more dark tones of the rest of it, like this:

it really makes me miss hi in this form :( i really like his soltis form, don’t get me wrong, but i miss him on yusaku’s wrist lol. i would say when things were less angsty, but, well. lmao.

we very quickly get akira’s rad boss monster summoned out:

and seriously, i just love the animation for it. it’s so sick. the door, the fire, how it looms behind him at first.... aaaaaa. so cool.

and of course the classic:

the worst part about this line is it’s said so often (esp in arc v LOL) that i actually. have slipped up and said it in normal, day to day conversation before. my boyfriend looked at me for like a minute and gave me the deepest sigh i’ve ever heard the first time i did that pff.

also:

i couldn’t not screencap this, given what my blog is for LOL

every time something reminds me of that painful final duel, i have to screencap it and make you guys sad with me. if i have to be sad seeing all this stuff, knowing where their relationship goes and how the series ends, so do you.

also, though, i forgot how often this was brought up before the bohman duel lmao. it makes that theory look a lot more credible, so it’s cool that it had all these little hints towards it, even if it ultimately wasn’t true.

seriously, my heart. i don’t think i need to talk much about this scene to make y’all sad, but really. they went from this to i loved you. ugh, god, i’m so sad thinking about it lmao.

there is so much to talk about between akira and playmaker and even blue angel in this episode, so i guess we’ll start here.

it is hard to decide that you want to take control of your trauma and do something about it. it is not easy. to see yusaku fight for that right so thoroughly is incredible, and really, really validating.

more sadness! seriously, this is too much. this deck was created specifically for him by ai. i don’t like this anymore lmao

but even besides that, often times the protag’s decks mean a lot to them, obviously, but i love that it wasn’t built strictly by yusaku. his cards were literally made by ai, and i think that’s such a cool twist. 

but then, akira’s speech:

i talked last time about akira wanting to handle things himself, and i briefly touched on him thinking he knows best...

but i really admire how calm yusaku stays at that tbh. he gets angry, reasonably so imo, but he takes this so well. i know i was a much more volatile kid then he is, so respect lol

i’ve spoken at length already about akira, but i also want to talk again about how oblivious he is. he is so blinded by his own thoughts and feelings on the situation that he doesn’t stop to think about how yusaku might be feeling -- and worse, honestly, how his sister might be feeling.

it was why he was so visibly shocked when emma mentioned a few episodes ago that aoi wasn’t just a little kid anymore. it’s so clear that he still, at the moment, sees her as the six year old girl he swore to protect, and not the sixteen year old person she’s become. he doesn’t think about how she might be feeling towards his actions, or why she does what she does.

this is highlighted as early as episode 6 iirc, when he asks her why aren’t you happy? as much as i, personally, dislike his character, i can’t deny it’s very realistic and well written.

speaking of aoi:

i love how she’s written in this episode, too. but her entrance here is great, and i love how she stands up to him about this. it’s minor, but it’s still a good step. when she’s blue angel -- or blue girl, or blue maiden -- she feels comfortable doing that. at least a little, and it obviously grows throughout the series. i hope that transfers over to the real world for her, too.

and then, we finally get the full story:

i remember flinching when he started talking about it, remembering the shots of yusaku getting electrocuted from his duel with revolver.

i really love this. i said it last episode, but vrains handles yusaku’s trauma so realistically and it’s amazing.

i remember originally staring open mouthed at my tv screen while this part played. we got a bit of it from the other episode, but the full context truly shocked me. where’s that post that says “who thought this was an acceptable backstory to give to a card game protag” bc honestly??? YEAH

it’s still hard to watch. it’s still hard to see play out, even if it’s only fiction. even though i’ve seen these clips so many times, and written about them in detail a few times too. doesn’t matter lol. watching it in context actually still made my stomach drop.

which leads me to talk about reactions to this, actually:

the two that vrains focuses heavily on are blue angel’s and kusanagi’s, and they contrast really well here imo.

blue angel’s is a normal reaction. it’s horrified, both at the thought of it happening and at the fact that someone would actually do that to another person -- a six year old child, no less.

kusanagi’s is strained. he is angry hearing about this, thinking about jin. we’ve been told, and have seen in the last few episodes, how much the lost incident impacted kusanagi and his brother, but i really love that the show tells us that here, too, and shows the difference between hearing about a tragedy and being involved in some manner.

i did not expect it at all when first watching vrains, and honestly, it still impresses me how gracefully they handled it coming off of arc v (cough, shun i love you but really cough cough). no hate on arc v at all, it’s my third favorite ygo very close behind gx, but the difference between the two on how they handle these things is staggering.

this whole section makes me thing that ryoken talked to yusaku fairly often, after the first time. which is something i don’t see brought up often? but that’s so important imo. it meant that yusaku had someone encouraging him not just once or twice, but on the regular, but also it meant that ryoken was constantly risking himself to comfort that child. 

we don’t see too much of ryoken when he’s a kid, but we do see him scared and crying over the lost incident. the fact that he was able to talk calmly to this child so many times is really amazing. it also makes more sense as to why ryoken feels so guilty over calling the police -- he probably felt that maybe if he had just kept up his encouragement, the kids would’ve all gotten out okay and his father wouldn’t be in a coma. 

this was so powerful. it’s obvious, and i think anyone with half a brain would understand that the LI isn’t something that a kid would recover from easily, but i love this anyways. 

he wasn’t saved. and even if he was in body, it’s still something he and all the other victims will live with for the rest of their lives.

this also is something i don’t feel like people bring up enough, but does this mean that yusaku went around asking the kids at the hospital when he was rescued? it’s not hard to believe they were all put together, at least for a short amount of time, but it’s still something i feel like people overlook. 

i also love this, because it’s nice foreshadowing to how revolver feels. he’s not captured, not like yusaku and the lost kids were, but he is a prisoner. and just like ryoken saved yusaku, way back then, he is determined to repay the favor.

not just because of that, either. because that voice meant so much to him. because that voiced saved him. because that voice understood him, and was there for him in his hardest moments. god i love them.

i love this shot. it’s so dramatic, how the match the drum beats with flashes of everyone’s reactions.

but it drives home his point, and while i know most of akira’s development came through emma and aoi, i’m sure this helped, too. 

i’ve sung vrains praises this entire post, but i’ll do it again -- this is incredible. this is so realistic. it’s so well portrayed. and it’s really honest to god incredible that we got a protag in ygo who was shown going to therapy. 

ygo has always dealt with some pretty dark subject matter, and it’s never really been shy about showing it on screen. i’m not saying that at all. arc v obviously dealt with some pretty heavy stuff, and while i haven’t seen zexal (keep shaming me please) i know it does, too. 5ds obviously has the dark signer arc, and the later arcs concerning bruno and also yusei’s father, and gx has... well, it’s entire third and fourth season. 

but we see everyone healing via card games. we see those shows talk about these things, but kind of at the same time, skirt around the subject matter; or if they do go deep into it, they pull out (ie 5ds) or the characters don’t get resolved properly (ie arc v). 

idk where i was going with this but i just really love that this happened, this was shown on screen, and they stuck to yusaku’s character. they didn’t just... up and make his trauma and his world view disappear at the end. he has a bittersweet ending, but it suited him and his development. a lot of people were mad about it, and i get it -- i wanted him to be happy, too.

but that’s not always the case, and it’s really important to me that vrains doesn’t pretend it is.

anyways, though, i’m almost done with this episode i promise lmao. before the episode ends, we get this:

and i think it’s honestly kind of cruel that akira says this, after everything, and still maintains his point of handling it himself. he has heard, first hand now, how horrible the incident has scarred yusaku for life. and yet, he still is stubborn in refusing to relate or at the very least empathize.

what i mean by that, since we obviously see him attempt to last episode, is he refuses to look at it from someone’s else’s perspective or in a way that might make him uncomfortable. the way my boyfriend describes these kinds of people is that they “haven’t had their bubble popped”.

everyone has a bubble when they’re born, and that bubble shields you from realizing that the world is a cruel and hard place. even if you go through hardships, sometimes your bubble stays put, and you think that is the worst of what can happen. 

i’m explaining this very poorly, because i’m running on not much sleep and i’ve been typing about this episode for like, far, far too long, but essentially, he refuses to step out of his comfort zone and recognize, in playmaker’s case, that he doesn’t have a right to interfere and that playmaker’s desire to handle it himself is justified and helpful for his healing. and in aoi’s case, that just because he does a lot of good for her doesn’t automatically mean ignoring her for work and keeping her locked in their house is an okay trade off. and also that she’s not a child anymore -- she’s nearly an adult and she deserves to be treated as one. 

those thoughts seem to unsettle him. you can kind of see it in how detached he is after hearing all that come from playmaker. blue angel is visibly shaken up by what he’s said. akira doesn’t even flinch, because he’s not really listening right now. 

i’m glad he learns to, or at least learns how to start, later on.

anyways, i think that’s enough for this post lmao. this took forever to type up, so let’s hope i actually have time to cover up to 21 here today LOL. if you read all that, thank you for your time on my kind of dumb vrains thoughts :’)

[bigchaoswombat]

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Lime for certain. That's the best taste however not overwhelmingly therefore whatsoever (runtz rainbow). Effectively stabilized along with a combo of a nice amount of orange, a little grape, a little grapefruit, a little bit of mango (!), and also perhaps a little ache of apple even, although that may have been my self-deception.

- I smoked coming from a well-maintained bong along with cool canned water. The smoke cigarettes is heavy and also creamed. Not harsh. I had the capacity to take huge favorites without a coughing from the smoke itself. It is actually hassle-free. It is actually also extensive, which carried out get me as soon as. Lol. Great, delightful on the scheme smoke cigarettes that is actually hassle-free enough to blast of your nose, which I carry out to assist me gauge the taste.

So I claim that due to the fact that "kind of buzz" is actually "form of hype as it impacted me directly." Companion this is various for everybody, right? Thus from a, the news is pretty properly balanced and also bends highly sativa for me. rainbow runtz thc level. It's analytical, and is actually mosting likely to be actually terrific pot to bind on.

I definitely would not say it was actually almost as strong a body system hype matched up to the mind, although that may be actually a feature of my good friend's tendency to harvesting at all milky/no brownish-yellow, as evidently these were. (My choice as well) Coming from a, I am actually no physician yet I know what work with my neck and back pain (rainbow runtz).

This one, after about five mins, delivered me a visible level of comfort. Therefore wherefore it deserves, it had a favorable health care result for me. rainbow runtz strain review. I would certainly contact it midway in that respect, a minimum of for me. Detectable comfort, certainly not difficult. Most definitely good enough to call it a plus though.

As I kind this it concerns an hour as well as an one-half eventually and also I have however to feel any sort of much less stoned than I performed in the beginning. Maybe a little bit much more body as the buzz happens. Efficacy - As it did certainly not originate from a dispensary and has actually not been checked, I do not actually recognize the numbers or official effectiveness.

Indicators on Source Rainbow Runtz You Need To Know

It is actually plenty highly effective. Certainly not novice buddy through any ways. - Prematurely to say just about anything other than that it had a visibly good result on my level of pain in the back after a couple of minutes of cigarette smoking, therefore for me that's the absolute best medical make use of (rainbow runtz genetics). - I right now recognize why Runtz is one of the current most prominent tensions in the U.S

This weed DESTROYS the dispensary grass in this state, which is actually part of why most of us expand I'm certain - rainbow runtz strain info. It is actually a flavor festivity in your mouth. It is actually lovely. It's powerful along with a terrific, lasting buzz. It scents impressive. I will certainly be growing this asap, as I have to possess so much more of the.

I am actually 55 and also I am hardly very amazed. rainbow runtz strain effects. Great job on my pal's component, yet the This is actually the only Runtz stress I have actually ever before made an effort thus regrettably I can't compare it to any of the currently wide variety of Runtz crosses that are out certainly there. However I will suggest this strain majorly and readily.

Given that my buddy grew this and our experts talk numerous times a week, I observed his develop with interested interest (rainbow runtz effects). As such, I possess some images of the real vegetation on its own that generated this exam bud. Or at least the vegetations the bud stemmed from. So I posted four photos in chronological purchase.

The 2nd is actually the end product he made coming from the vegetation as well as delivered to me. The third is actually several of the buddy broken up in the mill but not yet ground, which hopefully reveals the crystal through and with. The last is actually an ultra closeup (as near as my technician are going to let me receive) of the ground weed, which hopefully presents the unbelievable violets in this particular strain.

Madness, the runtz craze is taking The United States through hurricane but just recently a buddy of mine put me on to rainbow runtz. Shit possessed me spaced out with eyes reduced momentarily. To become straightforward it was surprising, it had been actually a moment since I've possessed a great low eye long-term weed. rainbow runtz effects.

More About Rainbow Runtz Marijuana Strain Information

What is Rainbow Runtz? It is actually a cross of Runtz and Rainbow Sherbert - rainbow runtz review. Personally the Rainbow Runtz is much more memorable to me than the Runtz pressure however that's simply me, aight. Everybody is different when it concerns buddy, in some cases what reaches someone properly is various for another individual. Hows it really feel tho? Hang on, allow me take a few even more snaps as well as ill tell you.

There are various other smells in there but immediately it's hard to recognize since I maintain smelling it and also at this moment my nostrils is actually just bewildered. Lol Sense free to state on the scent account PLEASE! Review! The End result, Of the Snaps Exactly how it was actually smoked Well-maintained beaker bong with no percolator or ashcatcher.

This exactly how it feels tho? Narcotic, heavy headed eyes low. It is actually hilarious because earlier I was smoking this stress - rainbow runtz strain yield. My eyes experienced reduced at the opportunity nonetheless when I initially began smoking to write this post I felt like wtf! This is actually ineffective! my eyes may not be experiencing heavy in all.

It is actually just the kind of tension where you may simply captivate on your own. But where it definitely sparkles is in it is actually ability to space you out while you delight in a bunch of the traits you appreciate carrying out outdoors (rainbow runtz). For example, right off the bat I can tell you this is a great warm springtime stress.

[renaroo]

Surrender (1/27)

Disclaimer: Red vs Blue and related characters are the property of Rooster Teeth. Warnings: Language, Canon-typical violence, PTSD, Psychological Manipulation, Dubious Nonconsent, Sexual Content Pairings: WashingtonxFelix, WashingtonxTucker Rating: M Synopsis: [Canon Divergence] In a world where Wash, Donut, Sarge, and Lopez end up with the New Republic, and Felix and Locus’ strategy to manipulate Chorus takes major adjustments. And Felix isn’t above exploiting a new found weakness.

A/N: Well. This is going to be.... something different, that’s for sure lol. Okay, so this is going to be much darker than a lot of my other fics, I’d say probably all of my fics, and it’s been something I’ve put off fully fleshing out and writing for ages now, but thanks to some encouragement from good friends, I’m about to bring some unwarranted filth to this fandom again. I am sorry but also not at all sorry.

I cannot stress enough PLEASE LOOK AT MY TAGS AND WARNINGS IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE. This is not going to be a pleasant fic once we dig into things, and it’s going to touch on or fully dive into all of the elements mentioned in the warnings. I do not want accidentally trigger people so please take some self care if any of the situations mentioned bother you. 

There will be explicit sexual scenes in the future.

And a special thanks to @goodluckdetective, @secretlystephaniebrown, @powerfulpomegranate, @a-taller-tale, and @littlefists for the encouragement/bullying to actually write this fic :P

A Subtle Change

"No one shoots my men but me!” Sarge roared from his position. 

The canyon they had been holed up in for the past several weeks was overflowing with members of the Federal Army that this Felix guy had been warning them about and quite frankly, it was difficult to not think of them as less enemy combatants and more canon fodder considering how unbelievably well their fortifications were holding up.

Well. All things considering since CeeCee had gone and mutinied on them with Dos-point-oh. 

All those considerations that were certainly no fault of Sarge’s own, of course, they were doing incredibly well prior to Donut being hit with the recursive blast of some sort of grenade. Which simply would not do! It wouldn’t do at all for anyone to be responsible for the untimely demise of Red Team that wasn’t either by Sarge’s own hands or by that of the hands of their forever immortalized enemies, no matter what Agent Washington tried to trick them into believing, the dastardly devils of Blue Team!

“Do you hear me? No one’s allowed to take out my men unless they want to take out me! So bring it, you cowardly, well organized, unthinking, white demon spawn!” Sarge continued to howl, getting up on top of his cover so as to make sure that the enemy had to look him in the eye as he slaughtered them wholesale!

“Sarge! What are you doing!?” Agent Washington snapped from below, yelling over his own return fire.

“Making sure the enemy retreats in the face of my boldness!” Sarge answered firmly. He then glanced up only to be dismayed by the lack of white retreat.  “Double damn! I told you that we should have made time for warpaint! It’d be working if you’d only listened to me, Agent Washington!”

“We didn’t have time for anything thanks to your fucking robot mutiny!” Wash snarled. “Now get down before you get yourself shot!”

“Ha!” Sarge called out eagerly. “One afternoon without that dirty Blue armor and you’re already talking insubordination like a true Red, Agent Washington. I knew that yellow stripes are a part of our dubious code. I went to Space Woodstock, after all!”

“Shut up and get some cover!” Washington snapped again.

Sarge made a few shots from the hip, feeling only emboldened by their position. His chest swelled with pride. “Looks like we’ve got this under control—“

He heard the crack of the sound barrier before he could feel it.

The sound was so loud and so sudden, it built the pressure around his head to the point that even with a helmet firmly on, Sarge’s ears painfully popped.

By the time the force of the hit was catching up with him and Sarge realized that his chest had been hit hard enough by the blast that it had knocked him to the grass, Sarge was utterly winded. His lungs were so empty that his chest was painful and as stunned as he was, he couldn’t manage to even gasp for air.

His vision doubled — nay, tripled — before him, and Sarge was left with his limbs flailed to his sides as he laid on the ground. It was a good day to die except even as the sky above him spun and blurred and tripled until nothing was quite making sense anymore, he could somehow still hear Simmons screeching at him.

“Sarge! Get up! I can’t…. Someone help! I can’t pick him up on my…”

The ringing kicked up a few notches and something or someone changed Sarge’s position because his scenery changed entirely, dazing and confusing him even more than he already was.

“Get the wounded!” a voice Sarge could not even begin to recognize managed to break through the surreality he was experiencing.

Everything was waited and heavy, he wasn’t sure how the bruiser managed to get Sarge over his shoulder and take off at the speed he was, but he could see he wasn’t alone.

Two other figures in tan and green were lifting Donut’s limp and charred form between them, heading in the same direction.

They passed Grif and his stupid useless Future Cubes.

“Grrrffff,” Sarge attempted to scold, unable to hear what stupid things Grif was screaming as he threw the cubes at the ever increasing enemy. “Grrrrff.”

The orange figure was disappearing more and more, only to reemerge.

It wasn’t Grif, though. It was the other orange that he hated. The not-Freelancer who helped end their quiet peacefulness in the canyon. That Felix fella. That…

He had Agent Washington hanging over one of his shoulders, half limping with him forward, half dragging. Washington’s head hung low, his helmet cracked.

“Are you getting to the cave?” Tucker’s voice burst through the ringing, he was racing up with his sword out. A fact that should have let itself open to more than a few jokes but Sarge could feel his spinning head slowing again. It was too much to take in.

“Yeah, get on in there, we’re gonna have to close up the cave to make an escape now,” Felix ordered. “I mean that like twenty minutes ago yesterday now. So come on—“

“Yeah, I hear you. Tell me who’s still not in the cave!” Tucker demanded angrily. “I’m not fucking around, Felix, tell me who’s—“

“Grrrifff,” Sarge coughed out, getting Tucker and Felix’s attention simultaneously.

“Right, which also means Simmons,” Tucker concluded, correctly. “Do you have Caboose yet?”

“We have Agent Washington,” Felix answered, like it was remotely the same thing.

“Okay, great, then give us a few minutes and I’ll get the others, too!” Tucker claimed, turning to leave when Felix roughly grabbed his wrist and yanked him hard enough to nearly send him dipping backwards.

“We don’t have minutes, you insufferable—“ Felix tried to hiss out only for Tucker to free himself and race toward the fight. “Fucking idiot!”

Sarge chuckled, despite how much it hurt. He had a begrudging respect for the thin mint. Leaving no men behind. That was almost Red Team worthy—

“Set the charges,” Felix ordered. “We’re getting out of here with who we’ve got.”

The words were unimaginable, catching Sarge not only off guard but they were so… wrong. The only thing he could muster out was a solid “No.”

The word was apparently enough as Felix looked around before focusing on Sarge. He tilted his head and leaned forward. “You’ll thank me later, Old Timer,” he declared before reaching forward and then—

Everything went black.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

Washington wasn’t sure how, but he was reliving his greatest nightmare. Flat on his back, chin tilted back, head throbbing like his skull had been cracked open and splintered into a thousand pieces, a monitor beeping quietly nearby but not quiet enough.

Vision came to him in fish bowl lens flashes. A face he never knew, then another, then both. Muffled words, medical in nature. The sort of interest in his body and less his person that could leave even the boldest of men with a chill down their spines. Most of the time it was only a light, glaring into him, making him feel empty and bare to its insight.

What wasn’t a flash of vision fading in and out of his surroundings was overwhelming numbness. Darkness.

Things were not well. Things were not what they were supposed to be.

It was years beyond Freelancer, months since the nightmares, weeks since the nightmares returned with an altogether different ship crashing and an altogether different team being failed by his same hands.

So why was he surrounded by doctors in masks and hospital machinery again? Was anything in between the two dreadful memories real?

They had to be. They were. Tucker and Caboose. They were real. They were his team. He was a Blue and—

Sarge had been shot. They were in a canyon. Donut? Was he even alive? There had been a firefight.

They were winning. They were losing.

Washington was behind cover. But he couldn’t see Locus, and Locus was the one he was supposed to keep his eye on most and then…

Then his cover didn’t cover much anymore.

He was dead, surely, but rather than that reality he was faced instead with a gulping breath of air as his eyes snapped open. Someone was touching his throat. His throat was bare. He wasn’t in his armor or his under armor mesh. He was exposed and the hand was at his throat and he had to make it stop—

“He’s awake!” the woman’s voice called just before Washington grabbed her hand at the wrist and rung it back, twisting her forearm painfully until she let out a shriek. “HELP! ORDERLIES! PLEASE!”

His head was still painfully throbbing and he knew what calling for orderlies meant, he knew more than almost anyone else by that point in his fairly unjust life. Wash gritted his teeth and held tighter to her wrist. “What were you doing to me!?” he demanded.

“No need for orderlies, ma’am! Double-Oh Donut’s on the job!”

Before Washington could even process who the comment was coming from, two arms looped themselves under his armpits from behind and hoisted him back, nearly flattening Wash’s own back out against a broad chest. Almost immediately, Washington began to thrash without letting the doctor’s arm go.

“Let go of me!” Wash ordered. “Let-Let…” he struggled less, looking over his shoulder and being met by a very familiar, though looking particularly empathetic, look. “Donut?”

“That’s right, Washington. You’re with friends,” another sly voice said before a hand closed around Washington’s own. “So how about you let go of the nice doctor here without breaking any arms today, huh?”

Washington looked back toward the voice and saw Felix, in full armor, standing by him. Then he looked to the doctor’s look of sheer terror and pain, a disturbing flip in his stomach giving a measured response. “I… I am so sorry,” he said, releasing the doctor’s hand. “I…”

“You… were in shock, and had a violent reaction,” the doctor tried to explain, rubbing her reddened wrist while taking an extra step away from them. “It’s underst—“

“What the nice doctor means is that it’s totally understandable that you’d have a reaction like that,” Felix cut in. “I mean, look at your record.”

Wash stiffened again which prompted Donut to hold onto him tighter. “What record?”

“All of you with Project Freelancer. None of you have exactly had it easy, have you?” Felix remarked almost gently.

There was nothing Washington could think to say to that, fortunately, Donut was still holding on for dear life.

“You’re telling us!” Donut responded with a bit of a huff. “Heck, I was even supposed to be on shore leave!”

Felix’s gaze stayed locked on Wash’s despite the fact that it was Donut talking. Something about it was… unnerving. “Huh,” he said. “You look younger than I thought you would.”

The comment took Wash aback so much he physically came to a stop, which apparently had been the sort of reaction Donut was waiting for as he finally released Wash’s arms. “Excuse me?” Wash asked, still dumbfounded.

“Just a compliment, you look younger than you sound, crazy of a compliment as it seems,” Felix continued lightly with a shrug.

“Is it a compliment?” Wash asked sharply which then caused Donut to move toward him until Wash held up his hands and stopped Donut by his chest. “I’m fine. I’m not… going to wig out. I’m just…”

“Disoriented and greeted by someone who tends to be a bit too flagrant with his language,” a stern voice offered. A woman walked through, armor a military tan with bright, light blue accents. Her helmet was at her hip as she walked through, showing a distinct military haircut and eyes that were sharp enough to remind Washington of an old drill sergeant. “I apologize for Felix. When he was hired we were not aware that a mouth was coming with it.”

“Aw, Kimball,” he snorted with too much familiarity, though surprisingly the woman didn’t seem to mind even though her looks would say otherwise.

Washington could feel the beginnings of a headache already working on him so he shook his head once and waved his hands. “Okay, I need to know who you people are, what you did to me, and most importantly of all, where the hell my men are,” he ordered with as much ferocity as he could manage. “Because believe it or not, this is about as compliant as I am without any of that information, and my patience is already wearing thin.”

Donut tilted his head. “Jesus christ, Wash,” he muttered before growing overly excited. “That was amazing. You should give speeches like that more often!”

“Donut,” Wash hissed.

“You have a right to all that information, Agent Washington, and more,” Kimball addressed him, genuinely surprising the former Freelancer. “After all, we’ve all read the stories about you, seen the reports. We know that all of you have worked tirelessly to bring war criminals to justice and to bring yourselves to the honors you currently have earned. Yet you would, of course, know nothing of us.”

“You’re right,” Wash said impatiently. “We don’t know anything about you but the briefest of descriptions your paid mercenary gave us when he found us.”

Felix, leaned back against the wall behind Kimball, shrugged. “I’m not hearing a whole lot of thank yous going around for that, by the by,” he said smoothly.

“You want a thank you?” Wash snapped.

“Felix,” Kimball said thickly without even looking in his direction.

“Shutting up,” he replied.

With her attention fully back on Washington, Kimball took a breath and stepped forward, closing the gap between her and Washington. “My name is Vanessa Kimball. I am the general of the New Republic Army of Chorus. We are a small fraction fighting a large enemy, attempting to save our people and their freedoms from the former oppressive regime that would have seen us starve and die of disease after the UNSC forgot our colony. It has been a long and bloody war between the two fractions, and only hope has been fueling my soldiers throughout this all. And hope, as you can imagine, has been hard to find. But I believe in hope, and I believe that things happen with reason. Which is why, when Felix came across you and your men, I knew we needed you — we all needed you — to give my soldiers something to believe in again.”

Beside Washington, Donut wrung his hands, taking a deep breath. “Aw,” he said. “I’ve never been someone’s only hope — well, I’ve been someone’s only hoe but this is definitely the first time I’ve been an only hope—“

Washington was significantly less moved. “General, I can respect that you are an authority here, and I can respect that your conflict is heartfelt and well fought for,” he said, using every bit of patience he could to not let his anger accent every word. “But you are not our authority, and if you were, well, we don’t deal well with most authority figures. I’m not anyone’s beacon of hope, I’m just a leader of my men. And you still haven’t answered where they are.”

Donut leaned back. “Snap.”

“Damn, balls of steel,” Felix snorted again. “Even I don’t talk back to you like that.”

“Not now, Felix,” Kimball said, her eyes still locked on Washington’s. Her lips pursed in a way that told Wash everything he needed to know. Her hesitation spoke volumes.

“No,” Wash said darkly. “Where are they?”

“Your Sergeant is a room over, he cracked a few ribs and the doctors have him on bedrest for now,” Kimball answered.

“And… he’s staying in bed?” Donut asked, finally sounding half as skeptical as Washington felt at the moment.

“There is also… some sort of robotic unit that some of my men brought with them from the canyon you all escaped,” Kimball continued. “We don’t have many engineers to spare so one of our lieutenants who was a four-year battle robotics winner is handling it for now.”

“I hope that’s Lopez the First and not Dos Point-Oh,” Donut stage whispered.

Washington ignored Donut’s interjection for a moment, waiting for Kimball to continue with listing off their compatriots. When her lips pursed again, the fire already lit in Washington’s chest grew monstrously.

“Where is everyone else? Where the hell are my men?” he demanded.

“I wasn’t at the scene, I only have the reports,” Kimball answered reluctantly. “But from what we can tell, Privates Michael Caboose, Richard Simmons, Dexter Grif, and Private First Class Lavernius Tucker, did not make it to the caverns in time to follow the escape route—“

“No,” Wash said lowly.

“—and so did not make it to the rendezvous point prepared for the rescue mission,” Kimball continued/

“No,” Wash said louder.

“It is our current intelligence that they are captured by the enemy but alive,” Kimball quickly responded.

The heaviest of silences fell between all of them in the room.

It was terse and angry, though Washington suspected that a decent amount of the anger was purely from him at that time. And loathe as he was to be predictable, he concentrated it squarely on the only authority to be found in the room.

Surprisingly, even for Wash, though, he was not the first one to shatter the silence.

“That’s terrible,” Donut announced, a bit of a waver in his voice. “Like… That’s bad. I’d personally be ashamed if I scored anything less than fifty percent. You’re at… what?” he glanced momentarily at Washington as if somehow Wash was supposed to be following along with his logic, let alone computing for it. He then turned back to the general and mercenary. “You’re like at twenty-five percent! The only percentile lower than that that I claim is the proud-and-out eight-to-ten. Which is totally not the same thing and is way cooler.”

Washington’s mind was racing to process what he had just been told, and for the first time since… well, since he could remember at all, he was grateful to have Donut at his back. Figuratively speaking.

“Please, we understand your frustration, but as long as our objectives align, I believe we should try to work on our problems together,” Kimball pressed.

“No. You don’t understand our frustrations. And, frankly, you can’t. No one can,” Wash snapped, sending a deathly silence over the others in the room. “You say the others are alive. That’s what we needed to hear.”

With the ease of an expert, Washington pulled himself free of drips and monitoring equipment and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He anticipated the wooziness but pressed past it. Everyone seemed to flinch at the action but, at least in Washington’s mind, it was smooth as silk.

“Come on, Donut,” he ordered. “We’re getting Lopez and Sarge.”

“Alright!” Donut responded cheerfully enough. There was still a note of concern in his voice, but it was something Washington was ignoring.

His people were out there. His people were in danger. And there was something about all of it that left him unsettled and angrier than usual.

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” Felix called out after Wash, arms folded unimpressed across his chest.

“As long as the others are alive? I don’t care,” Wash answered without so much as looking in their direction.

Instead, he and Donut left right out the door.

Felix wasn’t sure if he was feeling more impressed or more enraged at the former Freelancer as he walked right out the door and nearly ruined everything he was working toward.

He made a mental note to determine which it was once he was away from Kimball and able to more freely be himself. Until then, he had an image to protect.

So he looked at Kimball in a somewhat charming fashion, gingerly tilted his shoulders in a shrug, and eased a quick, “Well, that certainly could have gone worse.”

The general was not having it, though she bought into the persona as well as usual. “I can’t see how,” she said icily. “You fucked up, Felix. You fucked up big time.”

Tersely, Felix reminded himself of his role, of his play. Still, he allowed himself to square his jaw and bite back on his molars before letting out a tight, “I know.”

“You’re not getting your full payment,” she reminded him, assessing that to somehow be punishment enough.

“I know,” he repeated, his temper flaring just beneath the surface.

“And I expect you to somehow make this right,” she warned him. “You heard what he said. They are invested as long as their friends are still alive. Of course they are, who couldn’t be? That means, we can still do something. We can still offer them help in return.”

“Believe me, Vanessa,” Felix breathed out calmly, the cool satisfaction of a plan forming in his mind, “I know what to do. And I’ll be keeping an eye out for our Agent Washington especially.”

[wreckthelist]

‘cause talk is cheap: bangtan brings my butter pt I.

I hate butter.

Not the song, obviously. I hate the grease, the vomit-inducing odor. How it dissolves and coats, lubricates the pan with all that... fat.

But love means never hesitating and unconditionally welcoming whatever’s in store with opening arms, weathering the storm and soldiering through world-war I trenches side-by-side, that sort of shit.

And so. When my beloved boys (everyone’s - yea, I hear you) released the first blindingly piercing yellow - like that obnoxious cheery shade, you know it- teaser logo for the 2021 single butter, I did welcome it with open arms.

The twitter TL was yellow. Thai ARMY’s in particular. Cough, ahem ahem.

Then came the first set of teaser photos, which were... lackluster and underwhelming, to say the least. The boys’ charms and looks alone were pretty much carrying the shots.

It took a couple of days to realize they were in an elevator. And then the comparisons with Dope started.

This glow up! Pssst. Precious.

The concept clips and second set of teaser photos threw everyone into a frenzied spin.

I mean, what in the fresh hell?

The jewelry. The props. The leather. Skin. Fresh cut shorts, bare arms. Explosive hair colors. 

Skin.

Please never, ever, ever cease being you, Kim Taehyung. Whatever you view you to be at that point in life. Because I adore you.

I dunno what sort of awkward family photo this is. But it just is.

Auras from Hoseok and Seokjin - we are not surprised. We’re just in respectful awe.

Now, 하자, here’s the main dish.

Of all the teasers, the trailer definitely hit me the hardest.

I mean. Are you kidding me? 

Those shimmering jacket flaps. Performer streaks dying to break out. Dancey dance bass beats, boys covering their mouths bopping their heads to each beat like they’re relishing being great teases they are at holding back a secret they can’t wait to spill.

God. Yes.

Color the whole clip in black and white and I’m weak in the knees.

Then, as you may have guessed by now, knowing me, I made pancakes the morning of May 20th, 1 day before the comeback.

The logo didn’t quite come out as designed. But still. Kind of. Okay.

So I coated the pan with butter, maybe for the first time in my life. And I (and Dad) let the it melt. We had the heat turned up too high, and I never did get the butter melting instagram worthy content I wanted the minute I decided to side step (ha ha) my own ongoing diet and asked Dad to buy the After You wholewheat (I tried. It’s not Makai Acai’s Oat pancakes but I tried.).

But what I could tell you was butter sizzled. It melted and crackled and dissolved into little bursts of exploding fireworks, little tszzz teasers of sounds that attacked you in minuscule jabs, mini dynamites, almost.

And that’s the way BTS’s butter smoothly melted its way into your hearts. Even non-ARMY’s.

When we think, ‘smooth,’ we think one-shot motions, uninterrupted movements and cool guy swagger. An exact, precise sort of soft, pillowy flow that messes with nobody and elevates in a class by itself.

Butter is all that and more.

There’s power in using a singular word as the title, one that rolls off the tongue and can be British (but-tah) and American (butt-ter) at the same time.

It grabs you. Pulls you in. And seeps, makes its way in.

Start with a simple backdrop (there’s a high chance that, if I were chatting with you on Microsoft Teams at 11am, May 21, I was humming along to Butter) - then bring in Jungkook, just as I’d been afraid that the whole MV would be minimal as per the teaser.

Then the beat drops and in walks Jungkook - doing what he does best.

(and more. because, you know, Golden Maknae.)

And bam. We got a Michael Jackson reference right off the bat. Of course.

Hey, thanks Dynamite for getting us together, I’d hold off no limits too.

How can I even begin to describe the swag that’s oozing and flowing in his screencap?

When asked by Zach the radio host what it means to be ‘smooth like butter,’ Jungkook replied, ‘like Jimin,’ and boy, is he not wrong.

Center!Jimin in white, white!Seokjin right behind him and surrounded by all men in black? I’ll take one, please.

Look at that neck.

And those wrists.

The jewelry on them. His rings, the watch. The dangling earrings.

This man did not come to play.

Taehyung’s index finger, Namjoon’s fist, Jungkook’s hand-gun(?) in Jimin’s direction and pouty lips ready to spill secrets, Yoongi’s inward-curling hand and fingers (for what? we’ll never know), Hoseok’s gaping duo fingers and pushed up, swaggered lips. Booyah, baby. We in for something special.

Only the second line, but the MJ reference carries. Jungkook’s oozing swag, still, and he’s in character.

The lyrics continues, emphasizes the theme of ‘a smooth criminal’ that’s only too exemplified by all that JK swag we’ve come to know and love and adore to the point of charmed unadulterated worship.

Lips pressed together, eye brows closed in.

Hello, mister.

The word ‘undercover’ is a grand slap bang to the first mini bomb dropped by Butter, just 12 seconds into the song (intro included), transporting the ‘smooth criminal’ phrase into some furtive operation (to steal ARMYs’ hearts! but let’s not get ahead of ourselves), even boasting (with swag) that in disguise, under the outspoken, openly announced pretense of being someone else, bangtan will still manage to---

The money shot. We’re not ashamed of watching and rewatching this for 100M++ times. Never.

Let’s never stop gabbing about how much I love and adore KookV. Not only the portmanteau, or shipping, or anything platonic or imagined romantic bond or whatever. Just. Them.

Them being them and all this chemistry. This bond. This relationship.

Look at Taetae glancing over his shoulder, index finger pointing at Jungkook sneaking up behind him, that extended long hair curved over his adorable round face, the cheeks filling up the frame. Jungkook’s heels pointed at the floor and one shoe raised, about to walk on by in Taehyung’s backdrop.

What’s amazing about Bangtan, always, is that they never seem to steal each other’s spotlight. The harmonic coexistence, chemistry, and tangible, implied closeness is even captured in a still screencap.

“Gon’ pop like trouble,” at first listen reminded me of bubbles, to be honest, but then naturally I got to thinking of those bubbly (Hi, Colbie Caliat, lol) blisters of oily Butter that went tsz tsz tsz soon as the butter melted on the pan.

It’s not deathly harm. It’s just heated scratches - warm enough to wake you up, explosive enough to make you pause, and tinges enough to poke and nudge you to listen. 

Never imploring. Not forcing. Never heavy-handed. Because this, ladies and gents, this is swag.

So they’re hinting (adorably - because I view Jungkook and Taehyung through adoring, fond lens) that they’re about to cause trouble, wreck havoc, bring the pain (I’m kidding), but in that soft, self-contained imagery of the word ‘pop’ that dissociates, dissolves within seconds before you know it, before you could prepare or get ahold of yourself.

The butter pops. BTS’s buttery bubble pops. And the world’s no less than prepared.

Gratuitous shot of us with Jungkook. Look, we are right there on his palm.

 Also, because I am in love with this smile.

(It’s such a typical MV shot, but I’ll let it pass. Because. You know. Jungkook.)

(Yes. That word in and of itself is the answer.)

(No takebacks.)

At this level of detailed inspection, I can’t help wondering if Namjoon’s looking to Hoseok or someone else to check the beat. I would’ve done the same, Joonie.

But yes, right in my weakness for synchronized, uniformed (preferably suits) boys performing.

(I heard you.)

We lose.

There’s nowhere to go.

They’ve caught us.

Center!Hoseok and Jimin looking down like that to the left of the frame. Men in black in a grouped cluster behind Hoseok, Tae looking down to the middle of the left, Joon to the right, and Jungkook to Tae’s back of the neck. Seokjin almost dancing and Yoongi’s half profile turned to the camera for that reveal of this gorgeous bodyline curve in a tailor made suit.

Ok, yea.

so criminal. very swag. dead arresting.

I am taken.

So. Back to the lyrics.

“Breakin’ into your heart like that,’ they’ve told us and told us when introducing Butter that the track would melt and dissolve its way into ARMY’s hearts, and right here is Jungkook himself singing about “breakin’“ making his explosive way into the listener’s heart.

“Breakin’“ continues the theme of ‘smooth criminal,’ and ‘undercover [psst. disguises]’ committing a crime, invoking violence, splaying black on a white canvas, creating impact just to be noticed. The imagery this evokes in my head was some kind slamming, a crash-course collision, banging (what a banger! lmao) its way into someone’s innermost, close emotional space they hold dear: the heart. (An important, standout word to note: “in” - once someone is in, he/she is “in.”)

But be not afraid. This criminal is bangtan.

Taehyung’s pursed lips are the “cool” stunners here.

Side note: of course people noticed only Tae and Yoongi are the ones sporting sunglasses (me! want! give! please!... but why? in this pandemic... why....). #Taegi #GaV forever.

Cough.

Love how he enunciates syllables, rolls them like babies in his mouth for us. This almost-wet(?) look, fashionably messed up head of hair, and the ~$287K one-sided dangly Chanel earring I would kill for.

(I’ve been in love, satan, but not like this.)

Again, notice that Yoongi’s sunglasses are more Wayfarer Classic (doesn’t look as cool on my face, unfortunately. Boo.), while Tae’s is that intoxicating vintage, tinted, rounded ones. 

I’m just being basic and linking to Ray-Bans but they’re so clearly more sophisticated brands.

How perfect to intercut the horizontal group shot here (hit them where it hurts - with everything and all you’ve got.)

“Cool shade stunner” - got to hand it to the lyricists for stringing long the theme so smoothly (heheh). Here we’ve got the blatant juxtaposition of “cool” against the imagined warmth of butter, or the implied (if any) undercurrents of hot, swaggering criminals blazing their way into your hearts with violent undertones.

We all know ‘cool’ is an ironic contrast in itself, a way intrinsically defining (and inducing) a calm, collected demeanor which doubles as a slang for swag. 

“shade stunner” (guess what!) - the alliteration slips off the tongue like a charm. One of the reasons I’m in love with sunglasses is their fix-all, cure-all makeover magic for transforming the wearer into a cooler (ahem) person, arresting to eyes and a focus point for onlookers, and that’s exactly what it says on the tin here.

Tae gets two screenshots because he’s Tae.

Just going to speculate here that Taetae might have come up with this choreo reflecting the lyrics (looking to the heavens, thanking the ones above/’mother’ at the higher-up place of respect). 

Those veins. The long fingers you’d like to be wrapped around yours, and the pursed lips. This defined jawline.

Oh, please.

Of course, we love a grateful Mama’s boy (biased lens, narrow and restricted context as specified). 

“Yeah, I owe it [the swag] all to my mother.” 

World, meet Kim Seokjin.

Kim Seokjin does not need to meet the world. Clearly. Because he already owns it.

Where do you think you’re going, with one-eye closed and finger pointed directly at me? Where do you think you’re leaving to?

A pictorial representation of Taehyung’s double-edged cuteness: deathly adorable.

The wide-open lips, his palm spread out, hand in pocket.

“Hot like summer,” a phrase sung here as in direct aural reply to “mother,” (the ‘er’ sound echoing off the walls) but also a no-brainer inclusion to this song so advertised repeatedly as a summer banger.

(#BUTTERSOTY LET’S GO PEOPLE!)

Add to the fire, let the flames burn. Make ‘em hot. Keep the thirst traps and tabs open. Like they’ve never thirsted before.

Like this rolled tongue here? Criminal.

Just another day in the life of a talented visual.

And you know, way, way superior to a look that I’m only beginning to grasp in my mind as Arctic Monkeys-esque.

Aaand - scatter! Yoongi’s such a flying cat. Jimin’s halfway through a dance move. Hoseok’s side-profiling also perhaps a dance move (THOSE. WAISTS. I’m a girl and I’m blushing!). Jungkook’s half turned, wide-open shirt.

This is only 24 seconds in.

Who gave this man a lollipop? I repeat. Who put our tiny, fragile, self-loving lives in danger? WHO GAVE THIS MAN A LOLLIPOP?

STOP.

HOLD IT.

.... [deep breaths] oh god. That was a trip.

And I may not be physically sweating through my pores - but hell, I was sweating through the pores in my heart, my head, and my mind.

It’s hold-your-breath-and-don’t-notice-it-but-just-let-go split second vibe.

The Dior sunglasses just intensified this whole marvelous split second lollipop sucking debacle of Kim Taehyung.

aaand that’s it. I will not say a word more.

His jacket’s flapping tail! I cry!

Ok. Focus. Lyrics.

Last week the temperature in my home office shot up to a staggering 36.7 C degrees, and, if Bangtan’s comparing their hotness to a sweltering summer when sweat popped up on tanned skin, this unbearable hint of *ahem**cough*ahem* smexy (i went that way, I’m sorry) tension, this was exactly it.

Namjoon whispers this, I’ve learned.

It’s the phrase right before the pre-chorus (you’re here, finally, oh my god. Hahaha I hear you.), a typical (again) phrase signaling a deeper dive into the lyrics or taking a closer zoom into them boys (because, please) and what they’re saying (inviting, selling us on).

The boys’ exact same pose mirror this. Tae’s already had his palm spread open like this a few seconds ago, and here he’s doing it again in unison with the group.

Yoongi’s and Seokjin’s are at the same degree/height of hand raised.

Jungkook’s more soft, innocent “hey, I hear you.”

Hoseok’s the cautiously curious, “What’s goin’ on, folks?”

Jimin’s is straight up, “i’mma power-moving you today, bitches.”

Taehyung’s showing off his boxy smile teeth, and Joon’s all, “I’m here. hold up, hold it.”

Everyone’s talking about Seokjin. But it was a crime to ever have stopped.

Let’s talk mug shots.

One - side profile. Two - plunging neckline on a v-neck dark tee. Three - necklaces.

Babyyyy, why’d you shut your eyes like that??

He knows what the sleeveless top does. He knows.

One squinted eye, blown up blonde hair, a hand raising his blazer at the back. He knows.

TBC. seems like Tumblr’s hit a photo limit.

[rqs902]

wow im like 2 mins into the first round and they’re introducing fruit planet and im already convinced tencent did a better job at making this finale ep than youku did for snzm LOL 

oof these questions hit home right away. wow xiao zhi changed a lot to become the leader he is today, someone who wants to see his band grow together. you can tell youzi has done some serious reflecting too, to call himself too unrestrained before. ughhh you can just see how much they love runze and how much he loves them. i love parents. xiao zhi really gave runze the confidence he needed and they all gave qiang ge the encouragement he needed. im surprised the suo na worked as well as it did with the disco song and im so happy to see how happy they were on stage. 

LOL muji is the real one to rein in szb and is harsh on him bc he needs it. the way muji says hes not afraid to get on people’s bad side and be the bad guy kinda reminds me of huang enyu

hope hyt and xiao xiong have really learned through their growing pains (same to ljt and szb) does that mean fruit planet is the only group where the main duo’s main fight wasn’t against each other but tencent? lol i cant imagine xiao zhi fighting any of his kids? wow i still find it amazing that zhao ke can so proudly say that 熱帶低壓 was his happiest times in front of the rest of 氣運. like thats legit love he feels for 熱帶低壓 and they respect that. wowowowow hyt’s “i can be strict towards myself, but i gotta let go for them” is like the ultimate lesson for micromanagers and he’s learned to believe in and respect his teammates and not feel like he needs to control everything. good for him.

maybe im just biased but the pitchy-ness of 氣運’s singing (xiao xiong and ma zhe /cough) just bugs me so much ugh it makes me sad bc the song is nice and id like to add it to my playlist otherwise, but i cant listen to this without frowning at the vocals. to be totally transparent, I didnt like the 午睡 song much at all (sorry ljt TT) and disco is not my style (sorry fruit planet) but at least the fruit planet perf was fun. im just kinda disappointed by these perfs in general :\

tencent putting the order as fruit planet first and 午睡 second and 氣運 last is a sign they already know 氣運 is gonna win... bc fruit planet was first place last week but if they go first that puts them at a disadvantage aka no one will be a match for 氣運 lol 

lol wat is this intro video.... the plushie fruits hanging from their suits LOL im gonna have to go look up footage of their busking!! watching this second perf... this is a song i will add to my playlist :) i just love seeing xiao zhi jamming out like hes enjoying it from the beginning to end, and i esp like the contrast when wsh switched to his drum set and the part where youzi sang! his vocal tone is such nice contrast to yrz’s. and i love how theyve figured out how to incorporate qiang ge’s suo na into their music. i will say it was kinda messy in terms of runze’s rhythm and they messed up some of the lyrics but for the amount of time they had to prepare im happy with this last perf :’) 

aw idk how i feel about ljt voicing that he’d rather do a band than be a soloist... but LOL MUJI a gentle but cruel real talker lol okay. who came up with these intro videos wtf???? 

OMG I CANT BELIEVE THEYRE DOING “I WILL MISS YOU” ARE THEY ALLOWED TO DO THIS SONG??? omg omg thats such a attack in the feels tho wtf this is such a throwback ugh i still remember this song from when zyx and ljt performed it on the first mrzz and now ljt’s bringing it back? omg but it has so many memories from the first mrzz kids and wow idk how i feel about this. i mean i know its HIS song so he’s perfectly entitled to perform it but its wild bc this song is so mrzz1 its kinda strange to bring it back for mrzz4. like does it feel like the mrzz1 kids are being replaced? or maybe i should take it like ljt is singing it in their honor and bringing it back to where he began. lol like zzn and mby know the lyrics bc theyve performed this song themselves before :’) okay so the beginning was a tiny bit pitchy but ljt is the best singer compared to everyone else!! the way he sings 揮揮手 with such power is so oof and i still just love his vocal timbre. one thing i like about 午睡 in particular is that none of them are trying to fight ljt to be a vocalist, which is unlike the other two group, and i think its nice that he can just be trusted to handle the vocals and it keeps it cleaner bc hes a capable vocalist on his own. im happy to see muji on bass too bc its cool he can be so versatile. LOL LJT introducing everyone in the middle of the song i love him hes so funnn. i will say, the arrangement of the song felt a little frame-heavy? idk if that phrase is the correct way to describe it, but i felt like there wasn’t enough sound filling the song, but jym is really jamming out in the background (im so happy whenever i see a glimpse of his drumming smile) and ljt is carrying with the vocals in the foreground. maybe its just bc im not used to this arrangement so it sounds strange to me. AW ljt going to zzn and mby to get them to singggg and AWWWWW muji running to yingge, sam, tyler, ruiyang they look soooo happy to hug him aawwwwwwww i love roommateesssss and also i still see them as this crowd of misfits who dont really fit in but can find solace in each other. can you imagine what wouldve happened if 太空餐廳 had stayed in this race? wild, i feel like they couldve made it to the end too. LOL ljt really treating this like a finale on a concert, such a pro LOL. OMG IM SO HAPPY TO SEE MAOMAO TALKING AND LJT TALKING BACK, i looove their friendshippppp awwww

wait i just had a random thought, but are the clothes they’re wearing like their own clothes? bc some of these 氣運 kids have a flashy wardrobe if so LOL 

omg xiao li’s written 78 songs for 氣運????? LOL CAN WE TALK ABOUT THESE INTRO VIDEOS BC 氣運 ‘S WAS SO NICE WTF HAHAHAHHA its so biased???? like wtf were the first 2 intro videos nonsense, and then you get to 氣運 ‘s and theirs is all artistic and pretty and dramatic and nice???? what???? hahahhahaha oh my goodness they even shipped hyt a drum set in the middle of a freaking grassy field wtf

okay i honestly think xiao li is the best singer in 氣運, maybe im biased but even he started a tiny bit pitchy but he adjusted quickly and his voice is just so nice and he puts a lot of care into his vocals even while playing piano! 

unrelated to the music, but honestly i thought i liked xiao li with short hair better but i do like the bangs he has framing his face here. i just prefer the back of it to not be so long LOL 

WOW i said all that about xiao li’s voice before xiao xiong started singing (and i immediately wished xiao li would sing again.. oops sorry to xiao xiong, but he gets off key easily when singing soft and low contrast pitches) and then xiao li SANG THE CHORUS AND WOW his voice is so nice i like it so much!!! i really hope he feels satisfied with this perf, as its their last perf and hes said before that he couldnt face their songs straight-on yet. wow i just have to go back and listen to him sing the chorus again wow the way his voice sounded on "傷心" OOF. 

what is zhao ke looking at when he raps? lol i feel like hes always looking off in a random direction but maybe im just not remembering correctly. but also the vocal effects they put on his mic make it hard to understand what he’s saying? but he also sounds like he has an accent. I dont know much about zhao ke like where he’s from or anything, but im curious if thats just bc of the vocal effects or he actually has an accent. 

UGH im sorry but then xiao xiong starts singing again and hes still off key and im still cringing..... i mean id noticed he was pitchy in previous episodes but this episode seems particularly noticeable?? im not sure if its bc they did any autotuning in the past but idk xiao xiong’s kinda not doing so great today :\ also the transition from zhao ke’s rap to xiao xiong’s singing was weird??? okay xiao xiong is fine once he starts projecting and puts more strength behind his voice, and then his vocal color is pretty nice! but prior to that.... 

lol am i think only one who thought it was weird that they recorded the guitar solo instead of having someone play it live? was it xiao li that played it on the recording? also zhao ke outside of rapping is basically a accompanying bass vocalist at this point lol 

im happy to see hyt being so happy jamming out back there, but his drum set is legit WILD. 

i know xiao li isn’t super popular but i wish people could acknowledge that 氣運 would be nothing without him. ugh he does so much for their music and sound, look at how much he was involved with in the credits for this song gosh. 

thank you to nana for voting for fruit planet, even tho we could kinda guess she would. but honestly not voting /cough/ is basically voting for 氣運, because everyone knows theyre gonna win the popular vote sooooo 

XIAO ZHI IS A TOTAL DAD NAMING HIS KIDS, staking his claim to xiao xiong, runze and tyler L O L its cute that he told them they dont need to grow up 

also can we talk about how xiao zhi said fruit planet wouldnt be here without youzi.... yooo their friendship is so real 

LOL xiao li yelling at hyt REPEATEDLY that hes a flamingo LOL 

im really torn about his hair length, still thinking about whether i actually like it.....

these are the superficial side thoughts that are going on in my head as i watch this show, yes. 

OOF qianye saying qiang ge is 優秀, not just his suo na aww i love seeing qiang ge laughing at pengpeng’s yelling at him and getting all this love and encouragement bc it feels like its taken him a while to open up but im glad he really seems to have

i like this yelling segment, will have to go look for more clips of it

wow this last performance really giving a visual demonstration of the group splitting is kinda sad for 銀河 bc they dont get to show up until the very end and theyre not even one of the last groups standing oof but also gives you a visual representation of how it’s been especially difficult for qiang ge, muji, and zhao ke, and also the others who had to go through group splitting. 

muji and sam smiling at each other at the end is all i need to see to smile. 

LOL ZZN’S WELCOME TO WJJW IM CRYINNGGGG rip 

aw im kinda surprised (but not) that fruit planet came in third loll what can i expect from tencent. but also its nice but also sad to see them cheering for themselves. i think they knew they wouldnt win but i think they deserved better

lol the fact that they had a banner for 氣運, and 氣運 won by like a HUGE margin, lol everyone already knew who would win 

lol can we just talk about how all the kids and teachers are just like in their own world talking and hugging behind the kids giving their winning speeches LOL they give no effs to this live broadcast LOL 

LOL IS THERE ANOTHER EPISODE NEXT WEEK BASICALLY?

LOL THE THIRD ANNOUNCEMENT IS LITERALLY A PLUG FOR MAOMAO’S CONCERT HAHAHHAHAHHA THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH 氣運, BUT OKAY HAHAHAH 

well its over. now i can go watch the recording of yingge’s livestream from sunday without fear of spoilers LOL

honestly looking back, this was a good show. i started it not really thinking id get invested bc i was also simultaneously watching snzm and since snzm is an idol show i knew id naturally get more invested in that. BUT these mrzz kids have really grown on me. theyre good kids and theres lots of talented kids among them. im curious how wjjw will deal with having 3(?) bands to promote now, but who knows, im just hoping to see more of fruit planet, ljt, and xiao li’s music in the future. i went into this show for ljt, and i came out of it with more music on my playlist (which is always great) and a high appreciation for xiao zhi and xiao li. hoping to see more of them in the future! 

[worstmissionever]

similarities/parallels between bates motel and lost because everything happens for a reason

and i’m a huge lost nerd with too much free time and too much feelings for both tv shows. this post is a mess and it’s just a list of things. there are topics but the single points don’t appear in any order. I WILL SPOILER YOU BOTH SHOWS COMPLETELY, like, the fucking end. 

i do this for fun. carlton cuse both worked on lost and bates motel as a show runner and that’s my only connection. if i see too much, well, that’s me then but it’s FUN.

even if you don’t care about lost or haven’t seen it, it might be interesting...? you could at least read THE RULES until the lost part begins if you want to avoid spoilers.

index: 1. The Rules (BM & Lost part) 2. Dylan Thomas and Romero 3. Mental Institution/Hurley’s and Norman’s Question 4. books and poems 5. alpert vs. romero 6. shapeshifter 7. moving on 8. mother/jacob/men in black vs. norma/norman/mother

1. The Rules + games between certain people

in both shows an important reaccuring theme is the set of rules. rules between people or in certain places, in science... some people play games with each other and have to follow the rules. i start with bates motel.

BATES MOTEL

a) in bates motel you have norman and norma playing their relationship as a game (according to norman in 2x08), to love each other unconditionally. that is the goal. then there were rules which norma changed because the loss of trust between them.

example, 2x08:

norma: Nothing has changed.

norman: Everything has changed. You changed the rules.

norma: What rules? What are you talking about? 

norman: I don't trust you anymore, and that changes everything. Okay, it's all up for grabs now. You no longer know who I am either, because we're different.

norma: What? Stop it. Stop. Stop it, Norman.

norman: It was all just a game. The game was that we were devoted to each other, and no one could ever come between us, that we loved each other more than anyone could ever love another person.

norma: But we do love each other.

norman: Do we? Do we really, mother?

a powerful example of how the rules have changed or maybe what has been part of the rules all along is in 2x10:

norman: How can you ask me to live with this? 

norma: Because I will die if you leave. I will, I'll die, Norman. We're like the same person. If you kill yourself, I'll be there one step after. We have to be together. We're supposed to be together. No matter what, I will be with you every step. I will be right by your side, and we will face this together. Please.

norman: All right, mother. You win.

norma brought up the rule ‘if you die, i will die’ and norman says ‘you win’ when he decides not to kill himself. for her. off-topic: these two situations have been such a turning point for the show, everything changed after that, especially after norman says norma had won. like...another game starts and both of them don’t know the rules yet; if some of the old rules even apply anymore. i loooove that.

b) norman and mother have a similar game ongoing but it’s more vague and the first rule and also goal that stands out is mother’s need to protect norman. norman starts with not wanting to know the truth, with oblivion to what is happening/has happened, then he changes somehow the rules because he wants to know the truth, because their relationship doesn’t work that way anymore.

5x06:

mother: Like Adam wanting all the knowledge and eating the apple in the Garden of Eden, you get the truth, but you also see the pain. We are partners now, Norman. You have no choice. We are on even footing.

their ‘game’ ends when norman knows everything and mother doesn’t need to protect him anymore. somehow they both win in a....tragic way...lol not lol.

5x10:

mother: You know everything now, and there's nothing for me to protect you from.

c) everyone who is involved with the drug business, so basically the whole town. it only works (somehow) because people follow the rules they made up, especially in the beginning it’s ‘an eye for an eye’.

one example in 1x02:

shelby: The people in this town, they deal with things in a different way, but it gets dealt with.

norma: And what about the guy who was burned?

shelby: It'll be dealt with. An eye for an eye. It'll get handled.

you also have sheriff alex romero whose job seems to be to make up cover stories for situations like this.

d) chick mentions the rules in 3x02 when he meets dylan and caleb after they shot his dog.

chick: You know, there's rules, right? We respect the rules. That's how we respect each other, right? If we all understand the rules, then we can coexist. Isn't that right, Dylan? Yeah.

dylan: Yeah, I guess.

e) other rules. of course there are other rules. rules in the police station, ‘standard procedures’. rules in the mental institution, you can see the rules printed there on the wall. 

LOST

a) i will keep it short, lol. ben linus and charles widmore are rivals. charles wants to find the island (again) and ben wants to stop him. when one of widmore’s people threaten to kill ben’s daugther, ben believes that she won’t be harmed because of the ruuuuuules they seem to follow up to this point (4x09)

ben: So if you want to kill her, go ahead and do it—  [long story short, she gets killed] He changed the rules.

i love ben linus and i love norman bates and they say the same, gosh. later in that episode ben finds widmore and confronts him.

widmore: Have you come here to kill me, Benjamin?

ben: We both know I can't do that.

well that is one big rule. he stands right in front of the guy that killed is daugther and is bound by rules. i won’t go into lost-lore to give explanations, lol, that’s not the point right now.

ben: I'm here, Charles, to tell you that I'm going to kill your daughter. Penelope, is it? And once she's gone... once she's dead... then you'll understand how I feel. And you'll wish you hadn't changed the rules.

that sounds a lot like an eye for an eye to me, right? 

widmore: That island's mine, Benjamin. It always was. It will be again.

ben: But you'll never find it.

widmore: Then I suppose the hunt is on for both of us.

and that’s another example of a game that two characters play.

b) *heavy sigh* okay, another set of rules is brought to you by...MOTHER. yes, you’re still reading the lost part and it’s part of the biggest lost/bates motel parallel EVER, i tell you, i almost CHOKED ON MY EXISTENCE when i noticed it, but more later. first of all:

mother set up rules between her two surrogate children in 6x15:

mother: If they [other people] found you, they would hurt you.

jacob: Why would they hurt us?

mother: Because they're people, Jacob, and that's what people do.

boy in black: But we're people. Does that mean that we can hurt each other?

mother: I've made it so you can never hurt each other.

another imporant things mother says is that they can’t ever leave this island and that both of them ‘don’t have to worry’ about death, meaning they won’t be able to die (that easily, cough). rules.

the boy in black aka the man in black aka the smoke monster’s goal is to leave the island, desperately trying to find a loophole.

which brings us to 

c) the game between jacob and the man in black when they were LITTLE. they played an ancient senet game (imagine old chess or blackgammon). jacob moves a stone on the board, also 6x15.

boy in black: You can’t do that, Jacob.

jacob: Why not?

boy in black: Because it's against the rules.

jacob: You made the rules.

boy in black: I found it. One day, you can make up your own game and everyone else will have to follow your rules.

which brings us to

d) the game between jacob and the man in black when they were OLDER. like i said the man in black wants to find a loophole to leave this island. also, he really wants to kill jacob.

man in black: Do you have any idea how badly I wanna kill you? 

jacob: Yes. 

man in black: One of these days, sooner or later... I'm going to find a loophole, my friend. 

jacob: Well, when you do, I'll be right here.

there’s more about the three of them in the very end because it’s...a long one. and a messy one.

2. DYLAN THOMAS and Romero

i admit it, it’s...probably made up out of thin air but i love it, okay, it’s my little precious secret lost reference in the end of bates motel and i’m still laughing about it.

5x10. you remember the woman with her two children checking in after norman nearly died in the woods? one son was called dylan. NO, wait for it and hear me out.

norman: His name's Dylan? I have a brother named Dylan.

woman: Yeah? We named him after Dylan Thomas. The poet.

dylan thomas. so i googled that guy. he wrote a poem called ‘and death shall have no dominion’. WAIT FOR IT. 

I will quote wikipedia on you.

In the Season 6 soundtrack of Lost the piece which shares its name with the poem is played while detailing Richard Alpert's life.

Richard Alpert is played by Nestor Carbonell.

HAHA. THIS IS DELIGHTFUL.

Anyway.

3. Mental Institution / Hurley’s and Norman’s question

in both tv shows a character get’s treated in a mental institution and said character sees people that don’t exist but heavily influence their behavior. you got hurley in lost and of course norman in bates motel

but the funnier parallel is in a question both characters ask:

hurley: Did either of you see a guy run through here... in a bathrobe... with a coconut?

norman: When when she was in here, was she with anyone? Or maybe a man, very dark hair, eyes, 6', maybe with the look of an escaped convict?

in both situations, the questioned person somehow doubts if the other one is doing quite well. ok i think it’s funny...

4. book and poem references

in lost and bates motel you will find a lot references to mentioned books and poems, i already wrote three posts about examples in bates motel. (great expectations, fire and ice, the titanic one.)

in lost you have books like mice of men, carrie....and so much more, seriously, it’s lost.

5. Romero in Lost vs. Alpert in Bates Motel, ah shit, the other way 

as you might now, nestor carbonell plays sheriff romero on bates motel and richard alpert on lost and yes, there are similarities.

i want to mention a certain scene in 2x10 bates motel.

romero: I think you're smart enough to understand how things work around here. What you can do, what you can't do. And right now right now, there's a vacuum. Somebody's gonna fill that vacuum. That's as inevitable as the sun rising in the morning.

dylan: I'm not your guy. I didn't sign on for any of this.

romero: Well, somebody's going to, and I want to be sure that person who fills that vacuum, Dylan, understands the rules, because the rules are what make it possible for all of us to live here together in a peaceful manner.

So once again you have the rules here. but also romero who wants to recruit dylan to fill an important role. romero can’t take this job for himself so he needs to find someone who can do the job, someone who knows the rules and keep the balance. 

in lost richard alpert is an advisor to the leader of the island. he can’t ever be leader himself but he helps choosing one. he’s the person between jacob, basically his boss, and the people who come to the island. the scene of romero and dylan in bates motel very much reminded me of his role in lost. and romero is always in the middle between the drug business and the law/the town.

6. shapeshifter

the man in black appears in the shape of different people for the crashed people on the island, to manipulate them. i REALLY need a fanfic where norman lands on the lost island and sees the smoke monster as his mother. that’s just...i have so many feels about that.

7. Moving On

Oh, that’s a nice one, too. in the end of lost, it’s all about moving on. the losties meet in this flash sideways world, get together because they shared such an important part of their lives together, and together they move on. 

that’s pretty much what norman does in the end. when he sees himself in the woods, running towards norma. that’s his moving on. like the losties, norman and norma were always meant to be together and now, joined in the after life, they can move on together.

8. Jacob, the Man in Black, Mother vs. Norman, Mother and Norman

that’s my last one and it’s a tricky one and i won’t be able to give a proper conclusion because you can see it in a lot of different but very interesting ways. it’s long and messy and basically just a mind game so if you’re not into lost and that topic....no shame if you skip it.

6x15 lost plot:

a lonely island. claudia, pregnant, arrives on the island. she gives birth to jacob and another son, we call him the boy in black/man in black. a woman called simply mother (for realz) kills claudia and raises the boys. jacob is blonde, more innocent, does what mother says, wants to be good, in some way. the boy in black is dark haired, the opposite, asks questions, wants more autonomy. one day he learns that mother killed their real mother claudia and wants to join other people on the island. mother doesn’t like that because other people are BAD and forbids it but he goes anyway. he desperately wants to leave the island. meanwhile jacob and mother live their life. jacob sometimes chats and plays board games with the man in black. then mother learns that the man in black almost has found a way to leave the island so she kills every other person he was living with (my guess she’s a smoke monster btw). the man in black then kills mother. jacob is angry at him, throws him into a certain cave that turn people into something “worse than dead”. the man in black becomes a smoke monster, now is REALLY unable to leave the island. the dead body though still exists and jacob puts the man in black’s body next to mother’s body in a cave.

jacob and the man in black (he can take his old form) then live in a game-like world. the man in black tries to find a loophole to escape. meanwhile jacob brings people to the island to prove that they’re not mean. the man in black says everyone’s mean. lol  i put it very simple. 

let’s just start with one option.

jacob - norman

the man in black - mother

mother - norma

if you’re really into lost, bates motel and that topic, you can try to start playing with the idea. switch between characters. who could be who. 

or:

jacob - norman and mother - mother. then mother’s (lost) sentence ‘now you and i are the same’ would be a great reference to 5x06 bates motel right before norman kills sam. or you can say man in black - norman and mother - norma. so the man in black runs away because mother lied to him. and then he kills her.

or:

claudia is norma, mother is mother and both jacob and the man in black are parts of norman.

i know, i know, it’s messy, like i said. but i love to think about it.

-----------

ANYWAY. that’s it, i am done!

i can’t believe i wrote this post, lol.

if you have any suggestions or comments, let me know.

[wristic]

Okay so, I'm new to the Sister Wives (heyyy!) and I LOVE your writing for Vikings (actually, al of it, but whatever), especially your Ivar series. Which brings me to my little question! I'm looking at doing something where the character comes from a Celtic background and I was wondering if you had any reference suggestions? I don't want to fling anything out there that sounds absolutely, totally ridiculous, lol! 🤦🏻‍♀️😂

Well first off Welcome to the Filthy Pain Train! (should it be chariot? doesn’t have that nice a ring to it tho) And thank you for enjoying my work! 

���I don't want to fling anything out there that sounds absolutely, totally ridiculous”  *coughs uncomfortably* yeah yeah I hear ya, I t-totally didn’t throw things out there myself on occasion...

Thing is about the druids, the Celts, the Picts, is that pagan practice and religion was mostly wiped out by Christianization. It was only recently with neo-paganism that it was brought back and romanticized so when you do research you can get a lot of conflicting guesses and speculations on what could have been. You see, The Romans came up to old England, busted down the door and screamed, “HAVE YOU HEARD OF OUR LORD AND SAVIOR JESUS CHRIST!?” and with that began the destruction and withering away of the druid practice. It was a long process spanning over centuries, and recording didn’t happen until after the arrival so it’s all very shifty ground to stand on.

For instance, amongst the country itself there are many similar gods and heroes with slightly different names, looking at the Wikipedia page alone can be daunting.

A personal favorite for inspiration was bouncing back and forth between The Nexus Druids and The Celtic Connection, then from there jumping to Wikipedia if I needed some more in depth description of the Gods and Goddesses I was writing about. Something to keep in mind is the number three being an important fixed number in many religions around the world, but especially with Druids. They have many triple deities, (multiple gods that...share a same spirit. Often either siblings, gathered heroes, or simply a god that splits from itself.) The Triskelion for instance is all over the place in ancient Ireland yet the truest meaning has been forgotten outside of speculation.

Animal sacrifices were common as blessings and protection of houses and lands (people are still finding dead cats under their estates), but human sacrifice is highly debated. You see, while there are eye witness accounts by Julius Caesar of the practice, I’ve read in a few places (that I frustratingly can’t seem to find) that no one has really found definitive evidence of human sacrifice in pre-Roman England. As this link suggests, Julius Caesar had reason to start propaganda painting the Druids as barbaric compared to him, he was conquering them. Much like the English saying Vikings were dirty nasty and terrible when most weren’t taller than 6 feet due to malnourishment, bathed so often all the English ladies were after them, and took great pride in manicuring themselves. BUT ITS JUST SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE THE DARK AND THE DIRTY SO DO IT ANYWAY IF YOU WANT! 

To help with characterization, the women back then were the shit, and yes, there are accounts of Pict warrior women and Queens. This page is hard to read so I’ll just highlight my favorite passages:

“In some early Celtic tribes the descendence of the mother seems to have been predominate and the women seem to have been free, proud and sexually rather promiscuous. Caesar reports, that in Brittany some women shared several husbands among each other. When rebuked by the Empress Julia Augusta because of her loose morals, the wife of the Caledonic Prince Argentocoxus answered: "We fulfill the necessity of nature much better than Roman women do, for we have intercourse openly with the best, whereas you are abused secretly by the least."

“(After he raped her) He then offered, to assuage his shame, to ransom her back to her people, sending one of her slaves, also a captive, with the message. Her countrymen came to the appointed place with the ransom, The exchange took place on a riverbank in neutral territory. When the centurion was busy picking up his gold, Chiomara assented, with a nod, according to Plutarch, or by speaking to them in their own language, according to Livy - that her kinsmen were to cut off his head. She then took his head in Celtic fashion to her husband, in the folds of her dress.” (yeah fun fact, cutting off heads and presenting them was common and a mark of victorious pride)

"A whole troop of foreigners would not withstand a single Celt if he called his wife to his assistance. The wife is even more formidable. She is usually very strong. She begins to strike blows mingled with kicks as if they were missiles from a catapult...The voices of these women are formidable and threatening, even when they're being friendly."

"The women of the Celtic tribes are bigger and stronger than our Roman women. This is most likely due to their natures as well as their peculiar fondness for all things martial and robust. The flaxen haired maidens of the north are trained in sports and war while our gentle ladies are content to do their womanly duties and thus are less powerful than most young girls from Gaul and the hinterlands."

In hindsight it probably wouldn’t be shocking if your Celtic lady hides a dirk under her skirts.

When writing characters with heavy druidic and Celtic backgrounds you have to acknowledge that by the shows standards Druidism is long gone, pushed out and if it’s surviving, it does so reclusively and in secret. (I read somewhere that some of the folklore myths may have been started by people practicing in secret to keep outsiders away from their sacred woods). That stigma probably would exist between the thriving druidic celt and the christian saxon. 

And you can totally play things loosey goosey when it comes to writing about them. The show itself does so all the time (like the brothers in the show are not at all the brothers in the saga) Ivar could have very well been nicknamed Boneless because he was asexual and had nothing to do with his legs. They aren’t even sure Boneless is the proper translation. So when writing, take ideas, experiment with them, have fun, you are far from the only person whose making things up for a more impressive story!

If anyone wants to add or correct me go right ahead! Things like these are super fun to learn and help give all kinds of inspiration to fellow writers!!