#West's name is still up in the air i want something that has the vibe as Jazz and Prowl western is a genre of movie like jazz is music

[numberonetribble]

Picking out Alt modes for my Last Mile Marker AU

Bumblebee: 2008/Now

Breakdown: 2008/Now

Jazz: 2008/Now

Prowl: 2008/Now

Hot Rod:

Smokescreen:

Skywarp/Nova Storm: 2008/Now

Ratchet:

Piston:

Search Light: (Ambluon x Skywarp sparkling)

West: (Jazz x Prowl sparkling)

[cloverdaisies]

SLOW IT DOWN: LEE JUYEON pt 1

✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

# Slow it down, make it bouncy, 지금부터 fly좀 다른 spicy, 청양고추 vibe

✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

a lee juyeon x reader imagine

contains mature themes e.g risks, violence, dangerous driving, suggestive themes reader discretion is advised.

✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

hi (your name) you’ve been invited to play RACEFORTIME!

… \

Do you accept the invite YES OR NO?

✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

… \

CONGRATS! you chose the right option and escaped permanent elimination let me search for a party to put you in…

… \

FOUND! you are now apart of party 11.. enjoy the game…

“y/n i know you didn’t just join that fucking game” kevin, your best friend looked over your shoulder to the computer screen resting on the desk beneath.

“why not? it looks fun.” you replied with a chuckle watching as his face exploded in horror.

“it’s not fun until you’re either- you know- killed by it or I DONT KNOW killed doing something for it.” he choked on his words slightly, pacing the room and throwing his hands dramatically in the air.

“that’s just a myth, some people just get addicted to it and end up being killed because they go to far.” you rolled your eyes, turning around to scroll through the game rules.

"that's because you literally cannot the leave the game! do you not remember johnny? he tried to leave the game so he could go to his math exam and suddenly dropped dead in the theatre?- LISTEN i’m not even meant to mention that in case they end up coming for me for talking about it! why? why did you do thi-”

“listen kevin, it was my idea and johnny already had existing health problems it was just a coincidence, plus since school is over i’m bored and want some fun in my life.” you laughed at the boy’s concern and patted the top of his peachy little head.

“listen if you do this to yourself i want no part in it. you might be my best friend but i’m not risking my life for that game.” he sighed, but was shortly cut off by a jovial tune that hummed from the speakers of your laptop.

…/

hey! (your name) you have your first task to complete! remember there’s clues all over the city! don’t skip any pointers!

../

- find the key hidden in a mailbox the west corner of 67th street

…/

- your mode of transport is linked to a chain and lock near the bike shelter on west avenue.

../

- hop on and join a specific competition in town as a rider and win

…/

- meet player #109 without explicit mention of racefortime

../

you have 3 hours to complete!

./

WIN OR LOSE? good luck!

✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

“kev, you have to take me to 67th street now.” you turned around with a glimmer of adrenaline lighting up in your eyes.

“i’ve literally just said i’m not getting involved.” he folded his arms in an indefinite refusal, but softened his posture as your soft puppy eyes shone back up at him.

“i can’t drive! and there’s no way i’d get there in time without you. plus if things were like you said, wouldn’t i die if i didn’t complete the task.” you were using his own words against him, in a cruel way but yet you found it still unconvincing that a game had some sort of sorcerers ability to kill people

“fine. but that’s it! i’m out.” he grabbed his car keys, observing the 2:58:54 that lit up both your phone and laptop screen.

——

kevin drove you into the city, picking up speed wherever he could as the dark night had settled in and by the time you guys had reached 67th street the timer hit 2:36:43.

“it could be any of these mailboxes y/n! this is a death wish!” kevin put his face in his palms out of stress before exhaling and parking his car on the curb of the west corner.

“it’s a branded game kevin, there has to be a clue somewhere.” you laughed observing each mailbox, as you strolled past them until you saw a smiley face sticker with the eyes crossed out with graffitied handwriting which read “good luck!”.

“calabunga.” you smiled, using the lever to open the box and retrieve the black key placed inside. “let’s go.”

kevin huffed as you sprinted back to the vehicle eager to feel the adrenaline seep through your veins.

——

kevin dropped you off at west avenue, giving you a hug before explaining his reasons for not being able to stay.

“take care of yourself and don’t get hurt. please call me if you need me.” a line he had gotten used to saying at this point considering your lifestyle he was used to your flighty antics. but it seemed like this time you’d gone a little too far.

there were multiple bikes chained up near the bike shelter on west avenue, but it wasn’t like you had time to eliminate each one. one motorcycle stood out in particular, it was jet black, clearly a brand new build with a huge silver smiley face pad lock attached to a clunky metal chain on the side.

you inserted the key in hopes of it being the right one and sighed in relief when the chain loosened and lock burst open.

“nice bike.” a butter smooth voice hollered from behind you, you turned to see a pink haired boy behind you, covered in tattoos and piercings.

“thanks. just got it.” you replied with a chuckle, pushing the bike forward out of the shelter.

“do you know how to ride it?” he asked cocking his eyebrow up slightly.

“not really but my dad used to ride em, so it can’t be there hard.” you laughed nervously, swinging your leg over the seat and settling on board.

“how about i drive you into town, since i think i can see what you’re playing and you take it from there?” he suggested, watching your face contort as you battled the decision in your head.

“i don’t know. i think i’ll be fine.” you replied, not trusting his sinister appearance and judging eyes.

“how else would you get there without having a clue how to ride it?” he made suspicious eye contact with you, his facial expressions seemingly trying to tell you something.

he’s a player.

he must had been told to pick you up and take you into town.

“ah. i get it. yeah, sure you can take me into town.” you smiled, clocking his nervous movements and sigh of relief at your acceptance of the offer.

“thank you.” he puffed out in gratitude quickly hopping on the bike, and handing you the singular helmet hung on the side.

“do you not need this?” you asked hopping on the back behind him. he turned around with a look on his face that read “are you serious right now?”

“no, who where’s those? now quick we only have 1 hour and 50 minutes.” he shrugged off your words and with that he started the engine, waiting for you to pull the helmet over your head and place your hands around his waist before speeding off onto the main road into town.

——

hollering, yelling, the sound of smashed bottles and a heavily a intoxicated crowd lit up the nightlife in town as they all gathered round main street gearing up for one of the most exciting street races in town.

pulling on the brakes, the pink haired boy slowed arriving at the riders bay at the beginning of the street, there were multiple boys who were just like him, accessorizing in tattoo sleeves and thick silver jewelry.

“okay, the main race starts in 10 minutes. don’t talk to anyone, there’s some wrong people around here.” he told you within a genuine tone, seemingly as he frowned.

“why are you-” you were about to ask why he was telling you this information before he started the gas on the bike again.

“i’m sorry.” he spoke just above a whisper in remorse.

“for what? you’re not stealing my bike, are you?” your tone rose slightly, eyes lighting up red in the reflection of the brake lights.

“RIDERS GEAR UP.” a loud voice chanted through a megaphone as each motorcycle began lining up down the street.

“i have to.” he laughed, driving away from you as you attempted the run after the boy.

“shit.” your legs soon grew tired and it was no use running after him at this point considering he was driving away at what felt like 90mph.

if what kevin said was true, you were dead.

you had no bike to race with and time was ticking down like sand, 1:05:34, the clock on your phone read with a sad smiley face beneath it. “uh oh” a robotic voice echoed through your speakers. it knows my bike was stolen?

you shrugged it off, watching as girls jumped on the back of their boyfriends bike ready for the race to start. you ran past each rider, asking if you could just by any chance, hop on the back of their bike for the race. but you knew you couldn’t mention the game, or the time you had left in your phone and most of them refused laughing at you pathetically.

“hop on mine.” a sultry sweet voice beckoned from behind you, a jet black haired boy with sharp facial features and a silver lip ring faced you, seemingly catching a glimpse of your phone screen which read 1:0:30.

without a second thought, you stuffed your phone in your pocket and slid on to the back of his bike.

“thank you.” you sighed in relief, looking around for a helmet to wear but there wasn’t one. “do you not have a helmet?”

“RIDERS YOUR RACE BEGINS IN… ” the megaphone voice echoed through the street, riders reviving their engines and the crowd spitting, hollering in excitement.

“no. just put your arms around me. hurry the fuck up there’s no time.” his tone grew serious and you rushed to wrap your arms around him as the traffic lights flicked between red and amber.

“READY.”

“SET.”

“GO.”

each driver released their brakes, shooting down the street at speeds above 100mph with no fear of consequences.

that rush of adrenaline you craved, rushed through your vessels as the motorcycle sped through the night, passing each street lamp at exhausting speeds, eliciting high pitched whistles and screams from the crowd behind the barricade.

the kind boy driving you wasn’t rushing yet, he capped his speed at 90mph for the first lap falling to the back of the hoard of vehicles crowding at high speed.

“we’re behind. we have to win.” you yelled into the boys ear over the overwhelming sound of roaring engines.

“i know but just wait until-” he shouted back but was largely cut off by the sound of screeching metal and a silencing crash as two riders brutally collided.

“THAT. that’s why you want to be behind.” he silenced you as you looked back gobsmacked at the fatal scene. shards of metal and bike parts still flying in the air almost decapitating you and the boy.

it was almost the final lap, riders being eliminated by obstacles one by one, crashing and setting fire to their vehicles.

turning the last corner, the boy picked up speed, racing towards the front of the competition, neck and neck with the rider beside you. looking to your left you saw the familiar pink haired boy, racing on the stolen bike towards the finishing line. he smirked, leaning to his right and almost clashing with your vehicle.

“Juyeon doing charity work? Awhh.” he cooed over the racketing sound of his engine, giving a name to the boy that had helped you enter the race.

“Fuck off, thief.” you hollered back, watching him smile and and shake his head, eliciting an overtaking match between Juyeon and himself.

00:00:30

“Juyeon! We have 30 seconds left!” you shouted over to the boy in front, he nodded and ramped up the speed one more time.

with that, the pink haired boy fell behind, the finishing line within arms length, the thrill of winning biting at you.

a tacky horn sounded as you crossed the finish line,

00:00:00

YOU WIN!

your phone screen lit up with digital confetti, the flash light turning off in a staccato pattern as the bike came to a hault.

“Yes! We win!” you squealed, hugging the boy as a thank you, he smiled slightly looking up to something with a cocky grin.

“Yes, we did indeed.” he spoke mysteriously, you followed his eyes up to the large billboard screen on one of the skyscrapers in the city.

both yours and juyeon’s face lit up on the big screen with a banner that read:

“POWER COUPLE? RACEFORTIME BIKE RACE WINNERS”

you covered your face in embarrassment, shying away from the camera as juyeon wrapped an arm around your shoulder smiling and waving - eliciting the crowd of girls gathered around with their phones to squeal.

“remember to upvote me, as your favorite player!” he said into the camera, giving it a heart which contrasted his dark mysterious appearance, leather jacket and piercings.

your phone began to chime with notifications, follows on instagram, messages from classmates, and a score in the top right corner began to rise.

Congratulations! (your name), you’ve surpassed 1000 supporters on RACEFORTIME.

“you gain popularity from this?” you asked curiously watching Juyeon smile back down at you.

“hell yeah. you’re talking to the most popular guy in the game.” he showed you his screen with a proud glint in his cat-like eyes.

player #109: JUYEON LEE

WINS: 25

SUPPORTERS: 1.3m

“what’s your name?” he asked clicking on to the search bar of the app.

“y/n.” you replied with your name and username, a banner notification popping up at the top of your screen to say he’d followed you.

“thanks by the way, juyeon.” you smiled at him, watching him check his bike for scratches crouched on the floor.

“no problem, if you need anymore help let me know. it’s hard to survive this game.” he spoke solemnly, looking over his shoulder at the pink haired boy sat at the sidelines with his head in his hands.

as you began to walk off, you looked up to see kevin stood at the sidelines with a look that replicated death itself. an appalled, gobsmacked “o” for lips and eyes sunken in fear.

“you’re so dead when we get home.” he whacked you over the back of your head slightly, and escorted you back to his car despite distressing that he wasn’t coming to pick you up at all.

you turned back one last time to catch eyes with the mysterious juyeon lee, hopping back on to his motorcycle yet still watching you walk away.

you waved shyly, seeing a smile creep on to his face before he lifted his hand to wave back.

hopefully this wasn’t the last time you’d see him.

✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

hello my daisies !! dedicated to @winterchimez for a late bday present <3 ahhh i love this concept so much and hope you enjoyed too!! this is one of my favorite storylines yet <3

✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩ ✩˖ ࣪‧₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

[grandquest]

I’m still piecing together everything and taking it in, the story is just too captivating to me

Small details I understand/interpret/just rly liked seeing under the cut (spoilers)

Someone said the flashback takes place 6 years prior to now, I forgot whether or not it was stated early in the episode but it kinda checks out.

Orla and friede are childhood friends from kanto, she moved to hoenn, and they met again in paldea on ludlow’s fishing boat.

If anyone can PLEASE explain to me the puns(???) mollie and Murdock give before friede slides to the ground, do it, what I understood was “mimirol on a wall”, “metang playing shogi”, and runpappa caring abt SOMETHING

Ludlow is consistently called jii-chan by friede through the episode, whether this means they’re close and have a grandpa-grandson-like bond or if they’re actually related is unclear to me, I just like their back-and-forth while waiting for something to bite, reminds me a little of fishing with my dad.

After lucca calls friede(on a regular ass phone that is NOT a rotom), they meet up in medali’s treasure eatery(a small Larry cameo ensues), but I’m pretty sure friede and ludlow are fishing at the port on paldeas west coast.

The first thing said when the two meet in person is “it’s been a long time!” It seems a lot has changed since lucca was friedes teacher, she is very formal and calls him “friede-hakase” or “professor friede” at every given opportunity. He doesn’t react to this the same way he does in present day, it seems he took his title seriously until meeting pikachu.

Friede focuses in on Luccas wedding ring, relaxes a bit, you really get the vibe that two old friends just spent ages separated and are only now given the chance to catch up over drinks. He must not have seen her in person since she’s gotten married, or since liko was born, but he feels comfortable enough with his former teacher to meet her at the asscrack of dawn to go see that weird pikachu.

Idk how much time passed and for how long friede was watching pikachu, but it looks like he got tired of only watching, now wanting the action that should’ve come with the title of “pokemon professor,” and charizard seems to have wanted this as well. Charizard was mostly sleeping and flying low in the episode, but they jump at the opportunity to take to the sky for the first time in a while.

After catching pikachu, we saw ludlow raise his eyebrows for the second time in the episode(the first was to show amusement at friedes embarrassment in present day), looking proud of friede for doing something exciting. They head over to a construction site orla is working on and we get to see his outrageous request to her, as was alluded to previously.

She asked him if he was stupid LMAO

I like the short, sped-up montage of orla and metang working on the brave asagi but it does NOT make me feel any better abt how labor-intensive her tasks on the ship are now. Like she was building this shit ALONE day in and out and didn’t get paid by the childhood friend that asked for it in the first place. VILE….

Nevertheless, this was the start of the rising volt tacklers, which we now know is named very obviously for captain’s ability to rise into the air using a volt-tackle vortex. I couldn’t for the life of me understand what liko, Roy, and dot talked about at the end because of the music playing over it, but I appreciate orla still chatting and being silly with mollie and murdock off to the side.

The episode is beautiful, I’d watch it 100x over before subs come out, I side with the writer for this one and hope everyone watches it regardless of if they’ve been keeping up. Beyond excited to see someone who actually knows what they’re talking abt to translate this because I’m watching it with my best friend :).

[scary-movies-on-netflix]

“THE MOTHMAN REVISITED,” UNSOLVED MYSTERIES, SEASON 4, EPISODE 5 (2024)

The original “Unsolved Mysteries” was typically focused on true-crime stories, but every now and then the show would branch out to UFOs or monsters or other strange paranormal occurrences.  The new series, currently airing on Netflix, is following in the same vein.  This season we have an episode about…the Mothman!

We start off, naturlich, with some ominous quotations: “I’m still afraid to go outside at night.”  “I get scared that behind the closed curtains there is a face staring at me.”  Cue the creepy intro music!

We start off with a woman living in suburban Chicago.  She takes out her garbage, and Mothman is across the street, staring at her!  “I sensed that it was trying to get me to go over there.”  She ran back inside her house, and when she looked outside it was gone.  She told some family members and friends, who didn’t seem to believe her.  She went to the internet and discovered “the Mothman.” 

We next meet Tobias, a dude who sees shadow people, last seen in “Be Afraid” (2017).  He is now a paranormal investigator.  He explains that “present-day sightings of winged humanoids are becoming more and more common.”  Since 2017, numerous sightings have taken place in the Chicago area!  We then meet Lon, another paranormal investigator who’s been tracking sightings in the same area since 2011.  He’s old-school, having been studying these things since 1970.  He explains that the Chicago area seems to be a Mothman “hotspot.”  They generally describe Mothman or Mothman-like creatures: large, winged, red eyes.  Lon explains that he called the creature “The Chicago Phantom,” but the media started to use the name, “The Mothman,” which has stuck.

This leads us to a clip from the original series of “Unsolved Mysteries,” where in 2002 Robert Stack talked about the Mothman.  The clips (dated and a bit cheesy) recount a number of original sightings from 1966 through 1967 of the Mothman in Point Pleasant, West Virginia.  (You can watch that episode on Youtube or maybe consider watching “The Mothman of Point Pleasant” (2017) for a recitation of those historical details.)   This segment ends with a brief discussion of the collapse of Silver Bridge in December 1967, and we hear a newsman suggest that the Mothman is a harbinger of doom (which the locals in “The Mothman of Point Pleasant” explain was a later invention.) 

Anyway, we finally move on to the newest sightings in and around Chicago.  Tobias explains how investigators determine the “credibility” of a sighting, by trying to match a witness’s details with other provable facts, such as the weather or location details.  Lon explains how he also uses vibes to judge a person’s account.  So, the sightings:

Jonathan sees a shrieking creature sitting in a tree over his house.  “I saw giant red eyes.  They were so large and so deeply red.”  Jonathan runs inside. 

There are Mothman sightings around O’Hare airport!  But most of the witnesses don’t want to come forward, for fears of professional repercussions.

Sandra, mom, and Stacey, daughter, are hanging out in a field and see a strange being floating in the sky overhead!  They see a masculine profile, “like Iron Man,” with no wings, just floating in the air.  It disappeared into a patch of clouds.  They separately draw what they remember, and the drawings look similar!

A guy bicycling to work records something on his camera, but it’s just a stupid bird.  Some birds are really big.

Barbera, another mom, and Shana, another daughter, are eating fast food in the lot behind their apartment, and they see Mothman “crawling out of the canal and up the embankment”!  Confused, they get out of the car to look at it, and it flies away.  “You could hear the flapping of the wings,” mom says.

Tobias and Lon talk some more.  The Mothman doesn’t appear interested in communicating with us, and people are normally scared after an encounter.  They move on to a woman, Roxanne, finally recounting her sighting twenty years after the fact.  She explains that in September 2001 she was cleaning up outside after a meal.  She was looking at the moon, and not one, not two, not three, but four Mothmen flew overhead!  Roxanne explained that they were “standing” as they flapped their “massive” wings to fly.  The third Mothman made eye contact with Roxanne!  “When I locked eyes with this thing, you could tell it wasn’t something good.  You could feel it.”  Roxanne was spooked and ran inside.  She explains that she’s recounting her story now “because I don’t want to live in fear, like I have for twenty years.”

We circle back to some of the earlier witnesses, who explain that when they told people about their encounters, they were ridiculed or ignored.  Tobias and Lon talk some more about the Mothman appearing before disaster, such as before the nuclear disaster at Fukushima, a bridge collapse in Minneapolis in 2007, and even the Chernobyl nuclear disaster!  Lon explains that there’s “no consensus” in the paranormal community about whether the Mothman is actually a “prophet of doom.”  Then Tobias and Lon offer some theories on the origin or nature of the Mothman.  Tobias mentions that Lake Michigan “has been at the center of many strange and supernatural occurrences…there are many who believe the Mothman is just one more paranormal entity that calls Lake Michigan home.”  (We see a book by Tobias, for sale on Amazon!)  Lon thinks that they may be “interdimensional creatures,” based partly on the fact that they can “suddenly disappear.” 

As the documentary nears its conclusion, we hear once again from the witnesses, who explain that being heard helps.  “It was a nice experience being able to talk to someone who had knowledge about what I’ve seen.”  “It was nice validation, to know that other people have seen this.”  We see Tobias with some of the witnesses, listening and nodding.  We finally end with questions, from the witnesses and the investigators: what is the Mothman and what does it want?

This was ok.  We have no narrator; we only have the voices of the investigators and the witnesses.  Everyone appears compelling and sincere, and the recreations of the encounters are well-done, for the most part.  We also have some general animations of the Mothman, but a few of these look suspiciously like AI-generated art.  Boo!  It’s a successful documentary overall, focusing on the mysterious nature of the Mothman and how it leaves its witnesses in a state of fear and confusion.  (Viewers are encouraged to visit the show’s website if they’ve seen the Mothman.)  Right after this I went and looked out my window.  To my regret, I did not see the Mothman.

[sytokun]

there's so many cool but missed opportunities in rwby for their characters, like sun! yk how he's based of "sun wukong" from journey to the west? IK its FOUR characters to a team but i think it would have really been cool if they took more inspo from journey to the west and made HIS team journey to the west characters

Honestly I think that'd be really cool to base the rest of SSSN on the other Journey to the West characters, especially when the basis for a four-man team is already there. And knowing that SSSN was modeled after K-pop boy band Big Bang, imagining the Journey characters as modern hot boys already sounds like an otome-game level move that would fit RWBY pretty well.

That said, if you're making your own interpretation of SSSN, such as by rewrite or AU, you're free to do so. It depends on whether you put more stock into a more cohesive theme for the team, or their original canon inspirations.

...Which is a good opportunity for me to talk about the sketches I did for Sun's team in RWBY: Remnants some time ago. They won't be appearing for a super long time, but I might as well talk about them now.

Here, I renamed them as Team SNSD (pronounced "Sunset"), with Sun Wukong, Neptune Vasilias, Sage Ayana and Scarlet David. (yes, I am aware there is a K-pop group with the same name, the synchronicity is not lost on me) They're still based on their original allusions as I wanted to work within the constraints of canon here, but the full Journey team may be too good to pass up, so I'll consider coming back in the future to tackle it.

People have always been divided on Team SSSN's name, with many preferring to rename them as SSNS ("Seasons"). I do get it - Team SSSN ("Sun") has that kind of dumb, corny "how do you spell?" vibe that matches a team of himbos. But I think having three S's for one word is just going a step too far into... just plain dumb.

Sun is pretty much the same here, but I decided to dial back towards his Asian features and grey eyes - though they're black here cause I like black eyes too. I also added the Monkey's King's famous golden headband, the jǐn gū zhòu, around his neck.

Neptune is pretty much the same here - honestly I really like his original design and think it's one of those "if it ain't broke don't fix it" situations - but I do want to redesign him more in the future to better reflect his allusion as Poseidon.

For Scarlet, I wanted to lean more into their "pirate king" vibe and androgynous appearance, so of course the coat-cape slung over the shoulders is a must. I also wanted to change their Semblance into something similar to their canon one but... not boring.

Instead of just gliding, Scarlet can either control air currents (and I do mean that in a very loose, fantasy way) or affect the trajectory of any moving object their Aura recently comes into contact with. This Semblance is called Pixie Dust, and instead of a gun and cutlass, Scarlet wields two guns, either named Hook and Darling like in canon... or Faith and Trust (geddit). They can use this Semblance to fly, and infuse their bullets with their Semblance when loading them to cause them to curve in midair when fired. Yes, basically like that one movie, Wanted.

People who don't like physics breaking in live action movies hated the bullet curving mechanic, but I think it'd be a perfect fit in RWBY's universe. It adds a much-needed cool factor, and picturing Scarlet engraving smug comments and poetic farewells onto their bullets like lethal fortune cookies injects an element of charisma and playfulness to what I think is a really underutilised character, and one based on Peter Pan no less.

Now for Sage, he had a very ambiguous allusion. Some say he was based on an Aesop fable, and others on Hindu mythology.

Glad to know Miles Luna doesn't know the allusion to one of his own characters, especially knowing that SSSN is one of the earliest teams designed for RWBY, predating JNPR. But sure, let's give him the benefit of the doubt like we always do for CRWBY. /s

Given that this was so ambiguous and he also had no Semblance, I decided to take some liberties with Sage, and given his surname and appearance, I decided to look to Hindu mythology for Sage's allusion - a really cool but unexplored source of inspiration in RWBY. I was looking at some famous warriors and gods of myth like Arjuna, but I eventually settled on Kartikeya.

Kartikeya is the Hindu god of war. Known for riding a peacock and sometimes depicted having six heads, he also wields a spear with a leaf-shaped blade called a vel. In other countries he is named Murugan, and has a famous statue of him in Malaysia's Batu Caves.

I've redesigned Sage's clothes to more reflect Indian fashion (albeit a fantasy version of such) and with peacock feather motifs on his collar and chest. Sage here also fights with this spear instead of a greatsword, which you can see him holding in the sketch. His Semblance, Sanmukha ("Six-faced"), allows him to see in six different directions at once, having total 360° vision around himself. This vision can also pierce solid objects within a certain range.

While not immensely powerful by itself, Sage uses this to gain an almost unparalleled martial prowess, spatial awareness and foresight in combat, reflecting the god of war's own wisdom and skill. While I do really like the Roman numeral tattoos on his neck, I was also considering using Sanskrit or Tamil script - I should try that next time I go back to his design.

So yeah, that's Team SNSD from me! I'm pretty attached to Indian Sage, but next time I come back to them I want to take a shot at basing them after Tripitaka, Zhu Bajie (Pigsy) and Sha Wujing (Sandy) from Journey. I also need to be sure actual Hindu people are fine with him, since Kartikeya is still a widely-worshipped god in current times unlike Thor or Poseidon, so I hoped this portrayal of Sage as alluding to him is respectful enough.

[notallwonder]

...here we go... Criminal Minds 16x07 "What Doesn't Kill Us", directed by the lovely Aisha Tyler. I've been looking forward to this (at my own peril)!

Spoilers + nonsense under the cut...

oh I love this stupid show

I also love PB's voice in the previouslies (and in anything)

lol "SOMEWHERE IN WEST VIRGINIA"

oh nightmare. these types of buried alive plots always give me the heebie jeebies

dafuq? is she like in the air ducts? dafuq? screaming? eeep

WTAF IS GOING ON - so this crimey part has me hooked

HELLO HOTTIE!!! *waves*

oh..."a development"...

Attorney General time! pls be CCH Pounder pls pls

"after being assaulted, drugged, and killed in the line of duty, what's the worst that could happen?" LOOOLLLLL

okay, not CCH Pounder but still an authoritative Black woman as Attorney General

Aw, Dave. capisce?

Okay. First of all. AG calls our resident hottie by her first name. I am inclined to believe this means maybe they have some prior acquaintance, or the AG makes a point of knowing her people well (plus Emily is Bigfoot LegendaryTM). Secondly...Prentiss, really putting yourself on the line here offering your resignation! And Dougie boy backs her up, for the first time ever.

AG is right they have been getting tunnel vision. But also - they just had 2 agents blown up on the Sicarius case. Seems...appropriate to focus on it. ANyway

omg Emily's face - hilARIOUS expression. must rewatch 5 times.

(this feels like the episode that PB tweeted about shooting a while back, where she had to run around with a gun in a hospital in high heels)

return of awful expositional dialogue. my fav

WE'RE NOT SHORTHANDED EMILY??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN? IS SOMEONE ELSE HEEEEEREEE?

(I paused it here to cross my fingers for Agent Jordan Todd)

oh boohoo that was a waste of pausing. so we've conscripted Mr. Noodle. But like...does he have any investigative skills? I thought we agreed he was a hedge fund manager with a badge...I mean I know that was just a put down but...

Powerpoint Presentation Ken Doll Director Bailey is not the humor I wanted or needed. (Prentiss' sidelong glance at Rossi is a teeny bit funny)

Hmmmmm. Emily throws Noodle a bone, asking him to keep tabs on missing persons reports. A little thaw between them, since he's shown himself to be more on her side. I approve. BUT it makes me a teensy bit nervous that they might eventually smush these two characters together in a non-platonic sorta way. Hoping not.

Aw, the family that jokes about murder together...ruh roh.

"real reason" - did Elias kill his parents?

Aw, the family that fantasizes about murder together...ruh roh.

Luke is lookin' FOIN in that leather jacket this ep

"double boss" lol yes

Ok, may I just say, thank you to wardrobe for putting Prentiss in something other than those super wide-leg slacks once again? The wide-leg slacks looked great, don't get me wrong. But they're a different vibe (and I guess not as good for field work as jeans/skinny whatevers) (although we all know CARGO PANTS would be better for field work!! PLEASE UNIVERSE GIVE ME BACK THE CARGO PANTS)

And here we have a perfectly serviceable conversation among the BAU ladies (minus Tara) (plus a noodle). Yes, it's case-related. I still hope for an actual conversation between JJ and Emily that has something to do with not murder. But the vibes of this convo are great - upbeat, well-oiled machine and all that. Doesn't feel weird to me at all.

OKAYYYYYYY AHAHAHAA this scene!! I love it! *heart eyes emoji* Angry Emily! Emily & Garcia rapport! Garcia is funny but also came to her senses (SORT OF)!! Consequences! But yeah, that could be majorly problematic in a prosecution.

It feels like Noodle is working on his investigative Boy Scout badge. ...what, was he inspired by watching Emily's performance?

WAIT A SECOND. There was a jemily GLANCE!!! hallelujah, my lowest bar dreams have come TRUE!!! *dancing in the streets*

I still don't know quite what to make of Dougie Noodle's transformation into a sympathetic (?) ally... but I'm not alone in that, as evidenced by that glance between JJ and Emily. (y'all they did it! they did it! they glanced!)

the crimey wimey part is CREEPIN ME OUT BIG TIME

sigh of relief, Moose's owner is NOT dead! lucky girl.

this is an episode in which our heroes talk to each other, and I am here for it! Penelope supporting Tara. And then promptly fucking up her own life choices. Oh, babygirl. :)

Ugh Doug NOodle, that was SO CHEESY. "An FBI agent once told me..." I was ALMOST starting to like you.

Funny how they write the university admin guy objecting to sending personnel records to the FBI as a "liability issue" and not on the grounds that it's essentially a huge fishing expedition by the FBI from which the university might be inclined to protect its employees and students (lol, in a world different from the one in which we live).

ruh roh...Sicarius seems to be hurtling toward a break, a... devolution if you will

creepy fairy lights in the air duct, awesome, hate it. aw man this is fucked up. oh jesus that is way more than a lil cat-o-nine tails my god

this scene with Tara and Moose Girl is like...awkward. And sweet. Reminds me of my religious days lmao.

C'mon Penelope! Do the mature thing! OR, do the not mature thing! Pen's character development post-BAU strikes me as kind of a delayed adolescence. She's leaning into being more assertive and impulsive (and prioritizing her own pleasure). So it's perfectly understandable that she doesn't *want* to end things with Tyler. But girl, the investigation is on the line and that's a pretty big deal. What are you gonna do? (She does the right thing)

Yeah, Voit is LOSING IT. He obviously cares about his family but like... push comes to shove he's gonna kill them.

this girl Grace is METAL. it's nice to see the victims fighting back more effectively

Doug Noodle in a polo shirt? Now Kevlar??

(side note: Hogan's Alley reminiscing makes me think of Derek Morgan, of course. "out there, in the field, sorry doesn't bring people back!")

cringey feeling: WHAT ARE THEY DOING WITH PRENTISS AND BAILEY. are they becoming friends. okay that's a little cute. I just...I have trust issues, lol.

hohoHO "Come and get it, motherfucker." I felt that

actually I think it says a lot that Prentiss would go into a dangerous situation with Noodle on her six. She trusts him more than she did (or she'd rather he be her liability and no one else's?). And...where's JJ? Rossi and Luke went to other location, is JJ part of the backup? Oh JJ was sent to find the guy's ex. (that noodle better not friendly fire my love Emily Prentiss!!)

oh SHIT Emily you're going in ALONE??? baby nooo. I mean, you're super capable and a complete badass. but....be safe

Dougie Noodle's FBI coming of age is I'm sorry just a touch too melodramatic for me.

I naively thought this might be a Will free episode, completely forgot Josh Stewart's name in the credits up top LOL

How come everyone is getting haircuts all the time? Even Tyler Green looked freshly shorn or combed or whatever. I am so confused about the timeline of these episodes. Maybe men's hair styles just confound me?

An "adult supper" LOL

not Tara looking pensively at Willifer from afar as if they are #couple goals !

Unfortunately Tyler looks goofy with his hair combed.

Oh, Come On. "You made me want to live again" layin' it on thick there buddy. Unfortunately it seems to be Working. aaaagh

I can't tell if this is illicit yet sweet or if this is Jason Clark Battle coffee shop setup #2. I think it's supposed to be read as romantic? I was praying Derek Morgan would burst through the front door like the Kool-Aid Man to put a stop to this.

I think I don't like how this was intercut/edited - Rossi zeroing in on Sicarius with Voit digging up a kill kit. It's novel at least - I don't remember seeing this style in any other CM ep. But it feels weirdly extra?

Okay, overall, I liked the episode. It wasn't all that great frankly, but the crime was creepy as hell if underdeveloped. The worst sins are the criminal lack of screen time for Luke Alvez (he has been far and away the most underutilized of the whole cast), and the progression of the Tyler/Penelope situation. At least that will lead to more dramatics down the road. I'm not wild about how that storyline requires PG to have rather cavalierly tucked away her professionalism (such as it is), but to me it is not a wild departure from her prior characterization. We've seen her make big mistakes before when blinded by romance, mistakes which have also impacted her work (remember the RPG knight she was gettin' romanced by that hacked the BAU? granted...that was a million years ago in season 1). And sometimes people jangle our chemicals and we do crazy shit. It's kind of interesting, from a Penelope character perspective.

This episode had plenty of Prentiss, for which I am always glad, and it was kind of nice to see her dynamic with Bailey continue to shift. I don't really think that will tip into messed up heterosexual shenanigans territory but I admit to being paranoid about the possibility. Emily is way too familiar with the realities (headaches!) of intra-Bureau "liaising" not to mention I think she looks at Bailey as a young man in need of guidance/training. I was disappointed that Tara didn't have any conversations with Rebecca (not even a voicemail!), but I can wait. JJ and Emily felt more normal with each other, which was welcome. This episode was juggling too much, but that's the price of admission it seems with how they are trying to tell the unsub's story plus team lives etc. I'm glad they got renewed because I've basically given up hope on seeing Prentiss' personal life this season. *maybe* in the next season. And last - Derek Morgan was top of mind for me. It was nice to have his imaginary cameos, both in Emily's memories of Hogan's Alley and in his capacity as Penelope Garcia sense-talker.

WOW I DID NOT EVEN NOTICE THERE WAS A "POST"-CREDITS SCENE WTF. What is this, an MCU movie?

Um....... I'm just going to have to reserve judgment until I've seen the last 3 episodes. It will continue to be batshit I'm sure.

I did find it gross how he was laid out like a corpse on PG's kitchen counter covered in... cookbooks? Ok. 😂

[therealmintedmango]

Cerberus - Part One

Summary: ...”An eerie shadowy figure looms across the way making my murderous blood run cold. It looks smaller than a bear so the thought of running into a bloodthirsty wild animal leaves my mind. It looks not like a wild boar or cat. Wait. There appears to be not just one figure looming across the meadow but two. My eyes widen. The figures don't move but they both stand like humans would upon two legs. But they are bigger… Much larger now that I squint across at these two unknown figures. My stomach drops as I feel like a low growl is produced by the looming, unwavering figures… with… glowing amber eyes?...”

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Genre: Werewolf/ Shifter AU; Medieval AU; Strangers-To-Lovers AU; Heavy Angst; Soulmate AU; Eventual romance/ smut

Beta Read By: @justanothergirlfromeurope​ Thank you so much my darling for helping me with this! You are wonderful! Thank you! 💖

Rating: NC 18+, Explicit 

Words: 5,379 

Pairings: (Eventually) ot7 BTS x Human Female Reader 

Warnings: Dark themes; Possible Yandere Vibes in the future; Death; Gore; Murder/ Killing; Implied Incest (nothing happens - I promise); Mentions of being naked/ being seen naked; I think that’s it.

It’s late July in the afternoon, the hot sun baking boils on exposed skin if you are a brave enough soul to show any flesh. The cicadas cry, the large winged beasts screaming into the scorching air, sounding like terrible, angry monsters. My giggles cut through the loud droning of the winged beetles, pleased to my core I even let out an unladylike snort, shoulders shaking as Seungkwan tells the group of us a joke. I sit with a few of my brothers - the princes of the land in which father rules - in the shade of the maple when the laughing ceases as a shadow blocks the sun from roasting us further. The younger crowd of my brothers and I look up to see it is men from the king’s court, walking over to our shady spot in the garden, solemn features, shiny hats, and a loyalty to my father is the only thing they share. 

They say that mother has passed.

My brother Minghao gets up and asks where the older kin of boys are. The advisors tell him as he barks at us to stay here. The castle, they say. Infection, they say. Seokmin gasps, the bright smile like mother’s downturned at the news. Seungkwan’s joyful attitude dies. Vernon covers his face with his hands, a sob ripping from his throat. Youngest of my thirteen brothers, Chan, clings to me suddenly, tears welling in his large brown orbs as I hold him steadfast. 

The food sitting in my stomach feels rotten and cursed all of a sudden. All the sound dies from my ears, my mouth hangs open as the breath escapes me. 

Infection they say? How could they say such a thing? She was never ill, I think as people are running in and out of the castle, screaming and crying—something I wish I could do at this moment. I flinch, hearing my most vicious brother - Soonyoung - bellow a sound I wasn’t aware he was able to produce. 

I feel the same, but only in my heart for my lips cannot utter even a simple, single whisper. 

I was never close with mother even being the only daughter she had out of the fourteen children she created over the years with father when she was fertile - the only job a woman of nobility has in these times. And when she is finished having many children she is to still retain her youthful appearance which she did easily. 

They said that she gave her children a little piece of herself when she birthed us all. Chan has her sparkling eyes, Seokmin her smile, Junhui has her high cheekbones, Soonyoung has her unbreakable spirit, Minghao has her sharp tongue, Jeonghan has her cunning brain, Jihoon has her feisty attitude, Mingyu has her ability to be understanding and kind in the midst of her fire and passion, Seungkwan retains her strange sense of humor, Wonwoo got her cool intelligence, Vernon got her uncanny skill to be so young but so strong at the same time, Seungcheol has her unyielding stride, and Joshua her wit. And they say that I am a twin of my mother physically: her hair, her body type, her smile, eyes, her wide hips, sharp shoulders, feet, hands, legs, and even my fingernails. 

I only wish I had her spirit and fire my brothers bear, but perhaps they took it all before I was created in her belly? They say that children suck precious things out of you. Did I take everything else from her? Was my guilt eating me alive? 

My father, the king of this land, kept her locked away most of the time in the high tower of the west portion of the castle. I don’t know much about father but I know he is easily jealous. He wants the best whatever that may be: the most children, the best cloaks, the best military, the cleanest streets, the shiniest coins, the happiest peasants, the most beautiful queen in all of the land. Father hated when mother would talk to anyone that wasn’t close kin at dinner time or when we went to the market when she would merely look at the fruit seller man. She would be gone for days, no trace of her for a week or so, emerging with tired eyes, brushing the stray hairs from my face as she smiled sadly at me. Little did I know there was no fruit seller in the cobblestone market either. 

Still, my heart aches for a mother I had and hardly ever knew. 

The sound of the boisterous cicadas fills my ears, hearing returning to normal as brothers Jeonghan and Joshua come to collect us shortly after that, faces made of what looks like stone. 

-

It has been many moons since mother has passed. The air that was once ripe with colors and sounds is quieter now. It’s cool, my peacoat and shawl wrapped around me when I roam the garden in the afternoon with a different brother each day. It’s almost time for a harvest moon which comes in a week, Wonwoo told me on our walk yesterday. The demons and goblins of the underworld are said to have sprung up from the dirt and mud during these times. We sent mother away on a burning ship out to sea so I can’t help but wonder if mother is in the sky, the ground, or the sea still. 

My brother Soonyoung and I walk quietly together, the brown leaves crunching under our boots. It is a rare time when his voice is still. I know he is pondering what to say to me. 

What can one say to me? 

I love them deeply though, their touch and affection they still bring to me after each day. Sun up to sun down they coddle me. They have always coddled me, even the elder ones who are fit and strong and ready to be wed treat me as if I am a babe. I used to hate feeling like this, like I am small and unimportant, a babe who needs protecting. The only daughter the king has ever had. One of fourteen. I am no one to my father, to his people. But to my brothers now I see, I am their youngest sister. Something they only have one of. They cling tighter to me emotionally and physically now that mother is no longer here. 

I will take this feeling and hold onto it. I am important to them for that is why they treat me this way. 

The sound of horse hooves clattering up the path behind startles me. Soonyoung shields me, pulling me into his warm chest. I am comforted and protected. 

“Prince Soonyoung, Princess.” The captain speaks monotone. They do not call my name for I am a woman. Even of nobility and the pride of my brothers, I have no name besides my title.  

The captain’s lips move. I have no idea if what I heard was true. Soonyoung snarls and tells them that it's preposterous and evil and to shoo before he cuts them with his blade attached to his hip. They turn on their stallions and leave, a fog rolling into the garden as I feel hot and confused. 

Did I hear them correctly? 

They say that father wants to marry me.

They say that he will never be able to find a bride as beautiful and as perfect as my mother. They said that I will wed at sunset tomorrow. 

It is my turn to be made of stone as I fall into darkness. My breath is gone, a warm exhale hits the cool air, leaving my lips in a wisp before I pass out in my middle brother’s strong arms. 

-

When I awaken, my eldest brother, Prince Seungcheol, is heard pleading with my father in the political hall. His usually calm voice echoes against the rock of the building, the fire crackling in his basins as my thirteen brothers all object to me being my father's next bride. His brows are kit, furrowed as his lips speak my thoughts for me while father watches with mild amusement, seated at his holy throne. 

“She is not ready to be wed! She has not even bled yet!” He remarks, flinging his hands out to his sides. Little do they know, I have, I have just kept it a secret, becoming a woman is nobody's business but my own. “She is your daughter! Think, father! Think! How the kingdom will hate you for that! It is vile!” His voice cracks, tears swim in his brown eyes as my brothers shake their heads in agreement. 

Yes. How vile indeed, I think watching them all silently behind a pillar from above the hall. 

Father gets up with a wretched smile stretched upon his lips. I take a few steps forward, uncloaking myself from the secrets of the darkness in my nightgown a maid must have dressed me in, looking over the stone railing. “She is our littlest sister! Our only sister! She deserves to be married for love and only love-“

SLAP. 

I gasp as my stomach pits into itself. My brothers flinch. 

“How dare you talk like this to me, Seungcheol!” Father spits, anger flashing in his eyes like the fire in the torch basins. “She is a woman. She has no rights no matter who and what she is. She belongs to me.” 

“How dare you treat Y/N like an object and not like your daughter!” Soonyoung snarls, mothers fire lit inside of him like the hot sun. He is brilliant and strong like a tiger who burns through the forest in his powerful wake. 

Father raises his hand striking Soonyoung across his cheek with a sound that echoes in the corners of the hall. Something falls from his hands, though its clanking sound is covered up from the shouts that follow. 

“How dare you thirteen boys!” Father is shouting, my feet are moving on their own, rushing down the stairs to my brothers. “All of you are utterly worthless!” He shouts as Mingyu, the tallest brother, rage ablaze on his face as he moves toward the king, arms raised as he acts like he is about to slap father. 

Please, don’t! Is what I want to say, but I cannot. 

“Guards!” My father shouts into the hall as they come running in at his command. “Flog them all hundred lashes each!” He smiles a wicked smile as I run up to the scene with the ones carrying swords and pointed sticks. “And if they make a sound give them ten more!”

My brothers are being beaten and detained and my heart is breaking into fragile glass as the noise and blood coming from their mouths is too much to bear.

I do the only thing I can do. 

It is my turn to protect my brothers. 

Please mother, give me all your strength to stand up to this vile, evil man who surely killed you for the sport of it. My gut twists thinking of the peril I may face rising to the challenge that is our father. 

“Stop!” I say, my voice shaking as the next few seconds feel like hours and the eyes of all the men in the hall are on me. I walk toward my weathered and old looking father as he smirks a devilish grin down at me ascending the steps to his throne. 

“Father please, I beg you: I will marry you and do whatever you say, as long as you let them go now.” My voice does not shake now. My voice is calm and steady. Mother’s spirit fills me at this moment as I speak up to my father. Before this, I have not spoken to him before this for what feels like eons until now. 

“No!” Several of my brothers yell as I stand in false confidence, inhaling the iron from the red liquid that fills the hall. “No! No! No!” They shout as I stand in front of the man that doesn’t see me as a daughter. I am an object to him, whether I like it or not. 

He smiles, stroking his wiry, grey beard as he sits back on his golden chair, cloaks draped over his shoulders pool and spill over the seat behind him. 

“Whatever you say?” Father quips and I nod, hands balling into fists onto my sides, nails that are not mine dig into skin that is also not mine. “Then strip.”

My eyes grow wide, my lips part in shock, my blood which is mine boils, white-hot and merciless trapped in this skin that should belong to my mother. 

“Father, please!” Jeonghan, my father’s son and second eldest, pleads now. “Be reasonable!”

“She said anything, boys.” My father, the ugly worm that he is, states calmly. 

“Should a virgin be seen like this before she is wed?” Joshua makes a good point while father rips his pupils away from me as Jihoon, smart bugger that he is, recites the article of the kingdom where it is unlawful for a virgin to be seen in such a state before she is made another man’s woman. 

Father scoffs as he says, “Flog them two hundred times if they don’t like-“

“No.” I say, holding my ground, brushing hair out of my face. All eyes on me again as Chan starts crying. “I will do what you wish.” 

“Then do it!” Father shouts, banging his fist on the arm of the golden seat as he gets up. “Do it now and if anyone makes a noise: I will behead you.” 

I do it. I find the buttons on my yellow nightgown, my hands do not shake or waver as I shake the comfortable garment from my shoulders. My slip is the only thing that covers me now. My brothers close their eyes, look away, Chan choking on his sobs but the only thing I can hear is the roar of the crackling of fire. I step out of my nightgown, walking up to my father's throne. I see it. Glinting in the torch light. A stray blade lies upon the steps close to the devil king that is my flesh and blood. 

Praise the gods for the viscous middle brother I have. 

I step out of my white slip now, distracting the men who have their wicked eyes set upon me, hungry wolves ready to take any meat they can. I hold my father’s gaze as it travels down my body, making sure he does not look upon what my right hand is doing. 

I have it. I move quickly, the spirit of my mother now fully alive inside of the body that is said not to be mine. 

But now it’s mine. 

I am not a disrespectful child nor have I lashed out against my parents ever. I followed the rules without exception, never spoke out of turn and always let my older brothers go first for treats and presents. Always. I am a slave to my family and the system that I was born into. The ugly demons and snaggle-toothed goblins are really alive and well during this time as my brothers have said. The scent of strong ale hits my nose the closer I get. Maybe the beings of the underworld have possessed him? I am looking for a way out, a way to logically justify the way father is. But no. I know the real answer. 

This man is evil. Has always been evil. And he needs to be stopped. 

I am not a killer. But I am sick of the mistreatment of my family. I know my father killed my mother. There was no infection. None. 

Like a crazy witch with eyes burning like white-hot coals, whose blood is singeing to be set free, I plunge the pointed blade into my father’s throat. 

Blood spurts from his neck, squirting against my bare flesh, his eyes roll back as he gurgles profanity, my body blazing as my whole existence is overcome with the desire to end this cycle of corrupt injustice. 

“Run!” Vernon shouts as the guards descend in my direction. I drop the blade in haste, my brothers scream for me to run away as the guards scream mutiny. 

And I do. 

—

-Somewhere deep within the neighboring wood...-

“I’m hungry.” A clear tenor tone sounds off in the dark wood, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he resumes a human form in all his naked glory. Hoseok’s lithe body full of sweat glistens under the moonlight as he reaches for his purple cloaks under the large tree in the middle of the bog they just finished running around in. 

“Me as well, brother.” A deep bass vibrates off the trunks of the thick trees, his wolf form morphing into his handsome, tan body. 

“Taehyung, Hoseok.” A soft voice wafts through the air. “We aren’t to feast before the full moon.” The eldest quips, melting from his shiny fur, shaking his dark locks free from his collar as he dresses under the almost pregnant moon. 

“I can’t wait.” The second eldest grunts as he comes into the torch light that was burning on the stump next to their favorite tree. “The air is ripe with so much wildlife tonight.” He wets the edges of his lips, the thought of fresh, pink, juicy flesh at the forefront of his mind as well as his brothers.

“Where are Jungkook and Jimin?” Namjoon growls as he quickly morphs into his tall self, sweaty skin glistening under the light from the mother moon. Their run through the dense wood was very fruitful in the sense that they let loose and got a lot of pent up energy out of their bodies.

“Weren’t they behind you, Yoongi?” Seokjin questions as he scoops up the younger one’s clothes in his arms, signaling Taehyung and Namjoon to take the torch light. Yoongi shakes his white hair back and forth with a solemn grunt. “Very well,” Seokjin nods, twitching his nostrils in the air. “Hoseok, you have the loudest howl. Will you please call for the troublemakers?” 

The man with the hair as bright as cherry pie chuckles right before he sucks in a large breath. The third eldest bellows a howl that will be heard throughout the wood surely. 

They wait with bated breath for two of the younger brothers to respond. The wind whips around them carrying the smell of fallen, rotting leaves, thick moisture in the atmosphere, and the odor of something unfamiliar in the air. They all exchange looks in the torches' soft, orange glow. Something doesn’t feel right. 

The five brothers start to become uneasy. Taehyung shifts on his feet. Yoongi wets the edges of his lips more. Namjoon shifts his eyes between his brothers, swallowing uncomfortably. Hoseok frowns, kicking a few leaves in the dirt as he waits for the brothers to return his call. 

After another moment or two, the second eldest bristles, anger flashing in his amber orbs. “I swear if those wild banshees from the Twicelands have set another trap for us in our forest-“

The white-haired brother is cut off by the sudden cry of both of his brothers they were in search of, coming east off the dense bog.

“Come quickly!” Jimin yelps, his higher pitch ringing around the wood. “Come see brothers!” 

Meanwhile, Jungkook only utters one word that has the brothers taking off like bats out of the deep trenches of hell. “Mate!”

—

My skin is on fire, my fingertips numb, and my feet hurt as I run naked from the castle into the blackness of the night. 

I escaped through the kitchens, not a sane soul awake at this hour so I quietly slipped through the cracks. I hear more yelling and shouting but I cannot slow down. The blood of my father drips down my naked body, making me feel like a painted warrior. 

A shout is heard from the stable. The men on my father’s court call my name but it is not a happy sound. It is a sound of lies, of deceit, of pain they want to inflict upon me. I shudder when I hear Soonyoung scream a throaty battle cry into the evening air, on his way to find these men and rip them limb from limb surely. 

Under the almost full, pregnant moon, a blood bath is occurring in the usually peaceful castle.

I trip on an exposed root from a tree beyond the stables. When I gather myself, pushing up off the ground, I see a bed sheet hanging from a line out to dry and I snatch it from the air. I tie it, tugging it around myself loosely, giving my legs room to carry me off into the thick wood that lines the backside of the castle. 

Dread and fear taint my senses as I pad along the brush barefoot, trying to maintain a quietness even though I am running. The fallen leaves crunch underfoot, the earth cold. My naked body starts to shiver, the adrenaline of my actions wilting away as I fly through branches and bushes. I have no clue where I am headed, the pale moonlight guiding me. Wherever I see on my path I go next. 

My feet slip on the slick ground under my feet. I trip over my heel several times, mud and dirt covering my palms as I right myself. I must not look like a princess, so disgusting, covered in blood and unkept in this feeble, white bed sheet. 

I have to press on, I remind myself.

My breathing is ragged as I climb through long, pointed branches and under low shrubs. I stop for a second to catch my breath as I glance at the almost completely blackened forest. The nightlife of the dark wood whispering around me: bats screeching overhead, crickets that haven’t died out sing into the cold night air, even a pack of wolves howl out into the throes of the velvet evening. 

I suck in a cool gust of air, ready to trek along the unknown path once more. 

Wisps of my breath leave my lips as the cold night air stings my lungs. It feels as though I have been running for ages, the torch light not visible through the thickness of the tall trees. Have I run far enough? I think as I come to a little clearing in the wood, a meadow of soft, lush clover encompasses the land. 

An eerie shadowy figure looms across the way making my murderous blood run cold. It looks smaller than a bear so the thought of running into a bloodthirsty wild animal leaves my mind. It looks not like a wild boar or cat. Wait. There appears to be not just one figure looming across the meadow but two. My eyes widen. The figures don't move but they both stand like humans would upon two legs. But they are bigger… Much larger now that I squint across at these two unknown figures. My stomach drops as I feel like a low growl is produced by the looming, unwavering figures… with… glowing amber eyes?

 A wind whips through the meadow quickly, breezing from behind me, whipping my hair and the bedsheet about like a flag on a pike. 

I hear the sound of horses and I gasp, covering my mouth with the noise I just made. I shake my head, snapping out of my trance of looking to the almost human like figures. 

Have they found me? Have the guards and the men of my father’s court located me? My brothers were surely fighting, right? I pray none of my kin have lost their lives because of me. Or are they not men from my father’s castle? Would they hurt me? Torture me? Deflower me?

I shudder. 

I turn to run east, looking over my shoulder to the figures that have disappeared in the trees. A fog sweeping through the thicket, blocking my vision. It was probably a trick of my scared mind, I remind myself. 

Another thought chills me to the bone as I feel the exposed skin of my legs and arms slice under the thorn bush I accidentally stumble into, making more noise than necessary. I squeak in pain. The more I try and pry myself of the spikes, the more I become entangled inside of the nasty, winding plant. I want to call for help but I don’t want to alert whatever is coming near me. 

It is almost the harvest moon. The line between realms is blurred meaning creatures that normally I think exist in fairy tales are real at this time of year. Could it be a wandering herd of ghouls? A pack of wild demons coming to devour my flesh clean off my bone? My body shakes with uncertainty as I paw about the dirt. 

Ever since I was a little girl, my brothers have warned me about the wood. I should never go in alone. I should always bring someone. I should always have a weapon or a horse or something to protect me. Monsters are said to lurk in the bog that the wood surrounds in a thick sea of lush brush and vegetation. 

An owl hoots overhead as the sound grows thicker, heavier. The footfalls inching closer and closer by the second. The wolf’s howl sounds off again, this time the cries from the beast desperate - the noise much too close for comfort. 

No, I think as I freeze with a bone-chilling noise that vibrates off the trees around me. Not just one lone wolf howl. There are two very distinct animal noises that echo off the earth I lie bound to. One softer and longer. The other a little nasally and short - more like a bark than a howl. 

I should have run to the market, I think, body shaking from the cold and acute fear that plagues my mind. I should have tried to hide with a peasant or two until this treacherous act blew over or married a nobleman’s family in a neighboring town. Mentally I chastise myself as the thunderous noise draws closer and closer. Why am I so rash?

My heart hurts, it clenches in around itself as I look up into the shimmering moon hanging low in the sky. In a bed of thorns I lie, blood from wounds of my own and from my father still flows down my body, exhaustion overtakes me finally. I’m entangled, suffocating in the sharp spikes that pierce my body, choking me from the freedom I so desire. I can’t move my muscles, my body tense and sore, my feet blistered and cold. I’m weary. A tear rolls out of my eye and falls onto my dirty cheek as I snap my orbs tightly closed, the horses almost upon me, I think as I hiccup a sob. 

All of a sudden, the boisterous noise of what sounded like a hundred horses pounding toward me, stops. I suck in a breath and prepare for the worst. An eye for an eye, right? So they should slit my throat like I did to father.

It is my turn to die. 

“Little bird,” a soft, steady tenor of a voice purrs out above me that I don’t recognize. My eyes fly open, revealing a glowing torch light and a few handsome faces I cannot place hanging around me. “It seems you’ve flown far from your nest.” He simpers, flames dancing off his puffy lips as he gently brushes a stray hair away from my unkempt face. He shows no disgust, only empathy as he gazes upon me trapped in this tangle of wild thicket. 

I flinch as the long thorn branches I have ensnared myself in are being removed from my shivering body. The other boys, I’m unsure of how many surround me, take extreme caution, trying not to harm me as they pull the plants off of me. 

“Are you from Royaume des Diamants (Kingdom of Diamonds)?” His puffy, pink lips utter quietly in the night. I stare at his sculpted face, admiring his accent as I feel like the terrors of the darkness are melting away with his soft speech. I say nothing but look up into the rich eyes that seem to glow a golden-amber shade in the torch light. They bewitch me and I am in awe. “Little bird?” His perfect brows twist into an expression of concern and I take a moment to glance away from his otherworldly face and to his other features for a second. 

Dressed in rich purple with gold medals hanging from his broad shoulders, I can tell he was from a family of prestige. His lips are giant and lush but they are not out of place on his pale face. He appears to be a prince from those fairy tales I’ve heard so much about from the stories my brothers have told me since I was a babe. His dark hair envelopes his face, curling just at the ends, making him look far younger than I am sure he is. They finish uncovering me from the thorns and all gaze upon me covered in blood, dirt, sweat - looking positively disheveled - the farthest thing from a princess. 

“Hyung,” a deep bass speaks from behind the broad shouldered noble-man, “she’s shivering.” A tan boy with thick eyebrows observes above me. His velvety voice makes my cold body feel warm with the way his timbre seems to echo off the wood of the trees around me. 

“I know you are probably frightened and it looks like you have been through a lot…” The prince-like man holds an arm out for me to take. “...and even though your lips don’t speak, I do not wish for you to freeze out here in the wood.” The boys surrounding me shake their heads in agreement with the handsome one speaking. “Will you come with us, little bird?” 

I don’t want to die and I don’t want to die out here in the cold night. Even if they want to hurt me or worse, I don’t want to die frozen to death in the thicket. Somehow, I don’t think they are bad men, but my threshold of trust was high due to the internal struggle I faced with my family. Still, I feel oddly comforted by the seven who are mostly quiet above me. 

As I go to speak - to tell them ‘yes’, opening my lips slowly, nothing comes out. Not a peep or a squeak I can utter. The boys share looks of confusion at my lack of acknowledgment. My orbs flit from one handsome face to the next. Are they all princes wearing the same cloaks of purple and gold? I register you all, I swear I think in my mess of a mind. My body is too exhausted, not being able to do anything but nod once. 

That’s all they needed to collect me it seems.

“Come, little bird.” The soft voice purrs again as I am being propped up gingerly, carefully by one of the boys around me. I lull my head against his warm body, a blanket or a cloak (I haven’t a clue which) was placed upon my dirty body. This boy is strong, not struggling to hold me up in the slightest I think as my eyelids flutter. I look up to him. He has long, black-as-night curly hair that falls around his neck, smiling tenderly down at me, his nose is long and rounded at the tip, a little mole under his lip catching my eyes that flutter more and more with every breath I take. Sleep was overtaking my body now that I know I am safe. “We will take you to a place where you will not suffer any longer.” 

And with that affirmation, I nestle closer in the arms of the strong, young boy, believing the prince-like voice that hums a sweet lullaby. I yawn while he continues stroking my matted, tangled hair as I fall fast asleep against this stranger's chest.

I miss the seven smiles and nods, drinking me in with their sparkling amber gazes.

---------

PART TWO 

[oikawasbliss]

10 with iwaizumi bae fuck writers block all my homies hate writers block 👺‼️

ikr fuck writers block 😒 they're the worst, the bane of my existence.

— [ 12:37 AM ] camping with the seijoh boys

note: i got carried away this was supposed to be a drabble 😭😭 idek if this is considered fluff 💀 but please enjoy!

word count: 1.1k | tags: best friends to lovers(?), manager!reader fluff & unrequited love

please reblog if enjoyed!!♡

you were in your tent alone attempting to fall asleep but all you're doing is move yourself in uncomfy positions. the repetitive turns, east and west, you had a whole tent for yourself but you couldn't seem to properly rest.

so you sat, thinking of anything else to do while watching your phone clock pass a minute, there wouldn't be anything much to do considering how almost all of the vbc members are asleep and you didn't want them to wake up with their dreams disturbed. also if there were any server connection to where you are then maybe you could've done something to ease your boredom.

you then thought of just strolling through the woods in the middle of the night, seems relaxing, alone in the dark. sounds perfect.

you felt courage as your hand reluctantly slid the zipper open of your tent.

your eyes widen in surprise as you feel warm and spot a dim brightness of fire in the distance. is someone still awake? you thought as you stood up and walked, following that has been taken to your attention.

getting near you saw a figure sitting on a log, seeing the spikes of their hair made you think that it was either the vbc members kindaichi or iwaizumi.

still, you have to be cautious in case it was neither of them, though thankfully as you get close the person was indeed iwaizumi, having almost large arms and a more dangerously spikier hair than the first year, you immediately knew it was him, well he was your best friend after all.

“ hey.. ” you called him quietly, he heard your voice and turned to you in a flash feeling like he'd get caught for staying so late in the campfire and ordering him to go back to his tent.

“ oh hey manager. ” he responded idly, facing his head back to the light of the fire.

“ oh come on, just call me by my name. ” you then carely took a seat beside him, “ why are you up this late? ”

“ should ask you the same, why are you awake? ”

“ hmm… ” you slightly squint your eyes, thinking of a reason as to why you are still standing awake, you should've taken the question back to him but you felt like actually giving a reason for him to answer back. “ i can't sleep? well i was the first one to sleep but i just seem to not… you know? ”

iwaizumi lets out a short chuckle, “ i get it, don't worry. ”

after that the whole air between you two turned quiet, only the clicking of the fire burning the wood beneath it.

you didn't want to sleep and go back to your tent, you just got up and you're not gonna go back now because of the awkward silence.

you broke the silence and started making up a topic that you two will talk about.

and you guys did, talking and transitioning to a new topic as you guys go on. smiles plastered to both of your faces as one another tells their story, you didn't even have to check the time if it's late or not, you sure as heck don't feel sleepy at all, you want to keep talking and talking. well, it's always been fun talking to iwaizumi, you don't want this babbling to end.

after a long series of laughter you two stopped trying to consume more of the hot breeze made by the flame in front of you two.

“ it's been forever since we've talked like this.. ” the man brought up, raising both of his hands to warm them by the warm air.

you felt that this is getting in a deep turn, but it's also a relief that you two are able to be open to each other after days acting like you two have a neutral relationship.

“ well, it's mostly on me, i had a lot of things to work on and i guess i got too busy… ”

“ oh no! don't blame yourself, we were all really busy and didn't have time to hang out, oikawa really missed us three being together. ”

the edges of your lip curled slightly, grinning by the words the other said. “ it's been that long huh? ”

“ —if only that man is still awake maybe we'll have more fun together. ” your smile transitioned to a smirk, wiggling your brows making that bulb of his light up to get the hint, and he did.

“ wanna wake him up? ” he asked, darting his eyes at the tent the brunette's currently sleeping in.

“ it's like you read my mind. ” your smile becomes wider as you place your hands on the log, helping you to stand up.

“ wait— before we do that. can i talk to you for a sec? ” he intervened, you don't know if he's serious or not, regardless you still chose to stay and listen.

the truth is he likes you, a lot. but these feelings for you were only kept to himself, not telling anyone, not even oikawa, though he had this fear of losing connection to you even more considering how poorly you guys are getting along with the packed schedules that were assigned to both of you.

it would sound weird to confess immediately, for this was iwaizumi's original plan, to confess properly but he didn't think this was the good time to do so.

“ ha...hajime? ” you hesitantly tilt your head to see the other's face, lost in thought, what will he say? you thought. this sounds serious, it will totally ruin the vibe when waking up oikawa but… i still want to listen. you kept talking to yourself inside your head until hajime faces up and looks at you.

“ I don’t know if you know this but, I love you. ”

there was silence, you didn't know if he's serious at all, he just said that out of the blue.

if he was... who are you to reject him?

“ wha— huh?— that was so sudden. ” you gasp as if like a bulb above your head lit up. “ was that a confession?! ” you added in a teasing tone, your eyes widened, and your lips smiled subconsciously.

iwaizumi didn't know what he just said too, it just vomited out of his mouth.

he blinked, grinned and looked up to the stars displayed at the beautiful night sky.

“ whatever or however you understood it. ”

your hues quickly faced to the other, his eyes were glistening by the reflection of the stars above, however i understood it? you thought to yourself once more, well your first thoughts on what he said was a confession, confessing his love for you, but you didn't want to assume quickly, but he said that to you, the exact three words, then he probably really meant that.

you furrow your eyes in curiosity, you wanted to force him to say what he actually meant by it, but at the same time, your pride told you that it was indeed a confession.

you slowly lay your head onto his shoulder, a grin plastered on your face as you two continued to watch the stars

“ you know? i love you too. ”

[elphiej]

Be My Light: Prologue

*Pairing: Yoonig X Reader, possible OT7 X Reader (Undecided)

*Genre: Mafia, angst, eventual smut, slow burn

*Warnings: N/A (Yet)

*Summary: In the city of Central, a dark shadow rises as an evil from their past threatens to destroy the members of Bangtan and seize control of the city. While struggling against the rival gangs, as well as their own inner turmoils, they find their journey intertwined with a girl who’s past is a mystery, even to herself. She is lost and broken, but finds she has little choice but to trust the gang members as she becomes a target of the rival gang and drug lords. As they protect their new charge, the boys start to feel things they haven’t thought they would ever have. Can she help them fight against the shadows of their past? Can she melt the cold persona of Bangtan’s second in command? Can they be a beacon for her in own darkness? And can they help her unlock the secrets of her past and help her find her inner strength? 

(I’m terrible at writing summaries. Please let me know what you think)

              Be My Light 

               The last few stars in twilight sky illuminates the chrome skyline, barely a soul was awake, as a black SUV pulled up to the curb by a half-constructed office space in the lower part of the City. Hardly anyone who lived in the massive metropolis was about at such an early hour. Especially in this lower section of Central City, where it was mostly cheap apartments, shops, and construction. Central City- barely anyone remembered its true name after the ‘First’ Gangs bestowed the code name upon the citizens. The driver gazed across the empty street to the massive skeleton of a building that loomed in the fading twilight, not liking the ominous feeling that radiated from it like heat from the car’s air conditioner.  Nothing about this seemed right and his anxiety settled deep within his gut. This was not the usual drop zone and too far from their own territory. The construction cranes and bulldozers that were deadly still, like a warning, loomed about the shell of the shopping center the civil government thought would bring some life and safety back to this part of the city. The massive, five story building had too many unknown factors for him; there were too many places to hide, too many shadows, too many things to use against them should things go south. He sank lower into the driver seat, anxiety settling like a stone in his gut. It didn’t matter how many of these drops he had done or how many times he had seen things go one way or the other, he still got nervous. He turned his attention to the other member in the car, trying to distract himself.

               In the passenger seat, seemingly asleep and unbothered, was a young man who was older in years but shorter in stature than the driver.  He had pale skin and platinum blonde hair, dressed up in a simple black shirt and ripped black jeans, with a blood red, long hooded coat, that gave him a vampiric or bringer of death vibe. Fitting for what may happen, the driver thought. His arms were crossed against his chest and his head was leaning against the window. The eldest had been in the same position since they had left their garage a few hours ago. He seemed almost calm, which the younger allotted to his hyung’s experience with the rival gang.  However, quite the opposite was the presence in the back, who had stretched himself to lounge on the back seat. There laid an angelic youth with golden, wavy hair and a mischievous glint in his eyes. He was yin and yang personified to those who had seen him in action. The angel had his phone above his face, tapping furiously in a game, the light illuminating his innocent features and smile. The driver knew that once they entered the building that the innocent look would change to something scary once they entered the building. If looks could kill, the driver trailed off. Having both his hyungs with him and both seeming calm should help put him at ease. It was a good team they had in the car and had done much harder things before. But he still couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that loomed over him.

               “Hyung,” he said, softy, looking at the sleeping passenger. The other seemed dead to the world, so he repeated himself louder. Only when the other made a noise of acknowledgment did he continue. “Are we sure this is the place?”

               The passenger opened his dark eyes and looked across the driver to the construction site. His eyes moved to out his own window before nodding. The angel stopped playing his game and sat up longer enough to confirm with this companion. It wasn’t quite the reassurance the younger man was hoping to get.

               “Hyung, I don’t like this” he said. “This doesn’t feel right. We’re doing a drop, right? This isn’t hallowed ground. It’s a half-constructed building that none of us have any knowledge of. This can’t be the site.”

               “This is where RM said to go. This is the place the asshole wanted to do this. Said they feel safer here,” the passenger said, his voice low and rough from being woken.

               The angel leaned forward between the two of them, thumbs still moving quickly across the screen. “Those guys are just scared,” he said, his voice as light and airy as his appearance. “They keep losing men because they don’t train them right. Once their boss disappeared, they can barely keep their heads above water. They think being on their turf will scare us or something. Think we’re more likely to agree in order not to cause any trouble. That we’ll be too cautious to draw any blood.” His eyes shifted to the driver, and the devil within shone through for a moment. “Not like that would stop us, right Jungkook-ah?”

               “Ease the blood-shed, Jiminie,” the eldest warned. “This is just an exchange. We get in and get out. They promised a standoff, no weapons. So we should oblige the goons.”

               “Then why do we have a weapon stash with us” Jungkook asked with a playful, knowing smile.

               “Because we’re not stupid. Ji may have been bound by the Accords, but he was still a deceitful fuck, played by whatever rule got him to where he was. And he taught his dongsaengs to do the same. Now that he’s disappeared, they’ve gotten more chaotic. Look what happened to Hoseok last month when they jumped him in the middle of the street. They’re getting messy. We’re lucky Moonbyul and some X-ers were in the area, else Hobi and some civilians would have been worse off.”

               “Come on, Hyung. Are you tell us that if Choi’s in there, you’re not gonna give him a couple more bruises to match the old ones? I’m sure he’d like a matching set,” Jimin said leaning back in his seat.

               “We’re not gonna stoop to their level. We’ll show them how to act. But,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a switch blade, and smiled, “if he is there and wants to start shit with me, I’ll be happy to give him a scar like he tried to give Hobi.”

               Jimin and Jungkook looked at each other, grinning. Within their own group, they were all remarkably close, basically family. They all looked out for and took care of each other. But their Yoongi-hyung was even more protective of his younger brothers, always secretly doing things for them when they least expected it. On the outside, he was hard, quiet, and calculating. But on the side, they knew he was softy (though they dare not say that in his presence).

               Yoongi slipped the knife back into his red trench coat’s inner pocket and checked his watch. It was not quite time to meet with the Royals, though they knew them better as Goons or Jackasses. But it was time to check in with their secret surveillance. He pulled out his phone and made a call. Ringing filled the silent car through the speakers. It did not take long before the ring stopped, and deep voice replaced it.

               “Hyung,” it whined, “you finally call! I’ve been freezing out here since sundown, watching this damn building. I’m cold and lonely!”

               “Lonely my ass, Taehyung. You’ve been texting Jimin since you got there and playing that damn mobile game since two. You do realize you’re supposed to be look out. Or do I need to find someone who actually care about our safety to replace you next time?”

               “What? Hyung, no! I’ve been doing my job, I swear,” Taehyung said frantically, his voice wavering as if he was about to cry. “I can multi-task, I swear. We’ve only played a couple rounds, I promise. Please, Hyung, have mercy on me! You know I don’t like being alone. Please don’…,” his voice trailed off.

               Jimin grabbed the phone from Yoongi. “Taehyung-ah, it’s okay. Yoongi-Hyung is just kidding. He’s smiling, really.”

               “If that’s what you want to call it,” Jungkook laughed.

               As quickly as Taehyung’s sobbing began, it just as quickly turned into a deep laugh. “I know. I can hear it in his voice. Not nice, Yoongi-shi. We really need to work on your people skills”

               “Anyways, what is happening out there?” Yoongi loomed forward to look out the windshield to the building across from the meeting place. A top the highest building, he could just make out the body sitting there. Had he not known what he was looking for, or had an idea where Taehyung had positioned himself, he would have missed him. The lookout had positioned himself across from the back of the building where the Goons would be entering at, in order to stay a few steps ahead of them.

               “Barely anything has happened since I got here. Once the sun went down, all the people cleared the street. It’s been quite here. The civilians are probably worried about the Goons’ new recruits causing trouble at night. Only three cars have come down this way. And you’re number three. There’s some more construction to the west, some little family shops and alleys to the east, and a couple apartment housings to the north of here. So the civilians are safe from the cross-fire, if there is any.” He stopped talking for a sec, only to let out a loud, triumphant ‘yah’. “Got you, Jimin. That’s for cheating last round. I win! You owe me some honey rice cakes.” Said cheater threw his phone on the back seat with a growl, which only made Taehyung laugh more.

               Yoongi rolled his eyes and sighed deeply. “Why did I not ask Jin-Hyung to come with me?”

               “Because Jin-Hyung is taking care of Hoseok-Hyung. And RM-Hyung is trading that ‘equipment’ we picked up with Solar’s crew for some more fire power,” Jimin explained, leaning forward to rest his chin on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Besides, we’re the dream team right here. Taehyung’s a great lookout with his attention to details. And he’s a strong back up in a brawl. Jungkook’s the most daring getaway driver, next to Jin-Hyung, and is the muscle. And you and I are the best shots. How can you top that?”

               Yoongi shrugged Jimin off him. “Fine, but stay focused. No more games, you two.”

               Taehyung chuckled deeply. “Ok, Grandpa. I promise.”

               From his place atop the building, Taehyung smiled down at the SUV. After so many hours of nothing happening, their reunion had woken him up and gave him some much-needed energy. He listened as Jungkook started asking Jimin about the game, and Yoongi grumbling every now and again. He stretched his long arms up, and checked on the screens in front of him. The time of the drop was approaching but there had been no activity in the building across from him. He and Jimin had snuck into the building a few days earlier and placed some hidden cameras all over. He tapped a few buttons on his screen, switching from floor to floor, his eyes taking in every detail. No change. The building was just as empty as it was when he first got there. He checked the time in the lower corner of his screen; it was only a few minutes before the appointed time and still no sign of the enemy. If there was one thing Taehyung liked about the absent head of the rival gang was his attention to time and arriving to an appointment early. Time was everything and, without him, they lacked it

               You’ve got shit timing, a voice echoed from the farthest reaches of his mind.

               His fingers froze on the keyboard. Why was that making an appearance? That deep, sinister voice had been lurking on the edge of his attention ever since Hoseok was jumped. His hyung didn’t remember most of that attack, let alone who was the spearhead. He recalled being jumped from behind by some lower level recruits that he may have recognized, and that he dealt with a few of them before they pinned him on his knees. And he remembered a pair of expensive, designer shoes coming into his line of vison before a cane cracked him in the face. Moonbyul, a member of the Mama gang from the Northern side of town, had been one of the first to come to his aid. Taehyung had only met her once but remember that she was a strong and intimidating, and a fierce fighter. Joohyun and Shownu of the X-ers he knew better from all their gangs’ interactions. They had been looking for a good restaurant when they heard the commotion and sprang to help. Joohyun swore that he saw the elusive Choi there in fray, yet neither Moonbyul or Shownu were sure if he was there or not. Choi had always been like a shadow, appearing and disappearing when he pleased. No one had heard of his actions for almost four years. And, in the two-year absence his leader, Ji, no one was quite sure who had taken over as temporary leader. There had been clues that Choi could have returned to take over; he was the oldest member of the generals, had been a right hand man for Ji, and was more secretive of his doings then some of the other Generals would have been. The idea of Choi being back in Central made Taehyung anxious; old, painful memories had started to resurface. Things that Taehyung had worked through and had lapsed into a comfortable mindset when they thought that bastard had disappeared. Just the thought that Choi may be back made him wonder if that meant Ji was back too and what that may do to his members.

               Taehyung didn’t have much time to dwell as movement from one of the cameras caught his attention. He clicked into the camera that was stationed on the opposite side of the construction site, where the back-loading docks were to see three black Royces with their lights off came to a stop. Here we go, he thought as pulled a folded bandana from his jacket and slipped it up under his dyed gray locks.  Zooming in, he saw a few Royal members that he recognized from past fights. Some were boxers and a few MMA fighters, but they were slower than his trim and light members. The rest looked new, young and jittery. Maybe just a training run, Taehyung thought. It wouldn’t be out of place. RM and Jin had taken him on drops and exchanges when he first joined.  Altogether, there were twelve Royal members. That alone made Taehyung nervous; there were too many factors playing out in his head. He knew that between himself, Jimin, Jungkook, and Yoongi, they could deal with them if they decided to do something stupid. One member Taehyung, Chen, knew well enough from their encounters was a high-ranking member and was normally the leader of the squad. He was slightly decent about following the Accords. Maybe this will go fine.

               That was, until he watched Chen go to the third Rolls Royce and opened the back door.

               The first thing that came into view was a pair of expensive, silver dress shoes. Then a matching ornate cane. Taehyung could feel his breath catching in his throat. Out of the car, dressed in a light colored three-piece suit with a white fur coat draped over his broad shoulders, stepped Choi. His gloved hand ran through his quaffed frosted hair as he gave instructions to his minions. The little smirk that appeared through the computer screen was all it took for Taehyung’s mind to instantly transport him back to the worst night of his entire life. He could feel those gloved hands on his neck and shoulder while Choi’s companion laughed like a crazed child behind him. That sadistic smile was one of the last things he remembered seeing before he was shoved deep into the freezing darkness.

               Here’s your punishment for your disrespect. Do me a favor and don’t die too quick. My brother wants his turn to play with you. Now, deep breath, Choi breathed in his ear.  

                    His heart started to beat harder and panic began to grip hold of him. He didn’t want to think about it, not now. He thought he was past all this. But, with the chances of seeing the general who tormented him, only made his breath check in his throat. Get a grip, he mentally screamed, get over it. Don’t let him win! But all he could focus of was the wet, chill creeping up from his toes, his lungs restricting, the muted sounds in his ears…He gripped his phone like a life-line, running through what his team taught him when he got like this. Taehyung closed his eyes and tried to count. He tried to focus on a happier memory, but the onslaught of panic surged onward. He tried to force himself to take an unsteady breath, shaking his dyed gray locks from his sweaty face. Focus, breath. He kept repeating it. But his lungs felt like they were in a vice, like they were filling up with ice cold fear. There were hands gripping him, dragging him deeper into the dark memory. And he felt like he was swimming against a current. It wasn’t until Jimin’s voice seemed to cut through the rushing in his ears that he felt he had a lifeline. Where his silence may not have seemed like anything to the others at that moment, Jimin seemed to sense the change, even without seeing him. Taehyung clung to his best friend’s words and took a shaky breath into his burning lungs. Then, another and another. Just like he did when this same nightmare plagued him for an entire year. And as quickly as it came on, the dark hands pulled back into the deepest part of his memory.

               Jimin called out to him again as his eyes opened, and Jungkook’s followed asking if everything was alright. Tae let his eyes fall on his computer screen to ground himself back into his reality. Everything is fine. Focus on the screens. There were only two men by the cars now, blocking the loading dock from any surprise attack. Where did the others go? Tapping quickly on the keyboard, he cycled through the different cameras. The ground floor was only occupied by the large support beams and boxes of different building material. The second floor had empty shells for stores. The third and fourth were much of the same, with only scaffolding, tools, and more large boxes. The fifth floor was were the designer had wanted to put an event hall based on the layout; wide open with decorative columns lining the middle of the space, windows that looked out to the distant skyline of the city, and a marble floor that hadn’t been finished yet. Like the other floors, metal scaffolding and work tables littered the area, and unpacked crates and such were dispersed. At the edge of the camera Taehyung had placed by the entrance, he finally spotted Choi and the rest of the goons. As his eyes darted about the screen, taking in every detail he needed, he sat a bit straighter and shifted from the playful Tae into a different being. Now in the position of lookout and back gunner was V.

               “Tae, you ok up there? You’re too quiet. I think Jimin’s about to scale this building to check on you,” Yoongi’s voice rang through the phone, behind it was Jimin’s quite voice asking the same.

               “Suga-Hyung,” V voice was much deeper and serious than Taehyung’s, signaling to the car that something was up, “They’re here. Three cars at the back-loading dock. Two men stayed with the cars. There are thirteen in total.”

               “That’s more than normal for a drop like this,” Jungkook wearily said.

               “Hyung,” V continued, “Choi is with them.”

               From his place in the car, Yoongi nodded silently. That was all the info he needed to know that this wouldn’t be a normal interaction like they had hoped. The confirmation that Choi was, indeed, back in the picture meant that the game was about to be much more dangerous. He looked across to his younger friends, knowing from the look on their faces that they understood that too.

               “Where are they V-shi?”

               “Choi and the others are in the fifth-floor hall like they said. Their situated in the back of the room. Take the elevator on the ground floor and it’ll open into the space. There’s enough room to keep some distance between you guys and there are enough obstacles, in case. I can’t see from this angle if they’re true to their word about the weapons but there’s a couple boxes I didn’t see when I set up.”

               “Good job, V,” Yoongi said. “Once we get into the building, make your way down and to the back. Pay the two lookouts a visit. Then, keep low in case we need you. I’ll have the in-ear if something comes up. Jimin, you’ll stay with me. Jungkook, you stay a little behind with the package. Everyone just follow my lead and stay alert. Let them think we’re as dumb as Choi likes to think of us. Got it?”

               Yoongi had slid into Suga, the mafia persona he had adapted over the years. Suga was calculative, alert, intimidating to those who didn’t know him, and able to set the world on fire with a turn of phrase. He straightened his red coat and flipped up the hood to block against the cold as he pushed open the door. Jungkook let out a breath, nervous energy still rampant but his drive to succeed against all odd weighted it out. He mumbled a ‘goodbye’ to Taehyung and turned off the car, shoving the keys into his black hoodie’s pocket. He let his gaze wander in the rearview to see Jimin had already slid his rose-tinted glasses he had grabbed before leaving their hideout onto his face and ran his finger through his blonde hair. A bit of his bangs slipped back across one of his eyes. And with that simple gesture, the angelic, mischievous persona had been replaced with a devilish powerhouse one who wouldn’t stop until the job is done. The differences between normal Jimin to gang member Jimin would make anyone wonder if two different people. It still creeped Jungkook out when his hyung’s happy mask would slip when they got into a disagreement. Said hyung noticed Jungkook staring, and those dark eyes melted a bit when the younger’s doe eyes quickly looked away. He smiled a bit and reached for the black bucket hat that Jungkook had thrown into the back seat when they left.

               “Don’t look so worried. We’ll be good,” Jimin said, placing the hat over Jungkook’s long dark hair. The maknae wasn’t entirely sure if Jimin meant that the meeting would well or if that they’d behave. Honestly, he didn’t think it’d matter.

               Suga leaned his head back into the car. “Jimin, why don’t you let our guest out? I’m sure they didn’t appreciate all those pot holes JK decided to hit.”

               JK gave a small smirk as the wickedly, mischievous glint reappeared in Jimin’s eyes. He slid from the back seat and made his way around to the truck. He gave the metal a good kick before opening the hatch, the person inside letting out a surprised yelp as they were yanked out and down to the cold asphalt. The rat was blindfolded, gagged, and bound. He had tried to infiltrate one of their warehouses. He was young and inexperienced, trying to blend in with the new batch of recruits. And he almost went unnoticed, had they not had the best surveillance known to any gang in all of Central. Jimin almost felt sorry for him. Lord knows, he was treated better with them than his own group. But that wasn’t enough for Jimin not to scare him a bit more with a couple good shoves and breathy threats as they made their way through the crisp early morning air towards the uncertainty that lay inside the building.

               With each step towards the towering building, no longer were the three the friendly band of brothers who had spent the two hours driving around, laughing, talking, and singing obnoxiously loud to the radio. With each step, they were the most feared gang to walk the streets of Central since the Royals were in their prime. They were the most powerful group to rise from nothing to the greatest empires in the history of Central.

               They were Bangtan.

[clockotea]

Red Rhinestones Female!Reader/NickyValentino

Warnings- Whole lot of angst. Guns, swearing, death.

Plot- Nicky Valentino’s wife is pregnant and they both are extremely happy. It’s not until Nicky starts begging for Y/N to move west without him, does she start to think something is wrong. The arguments drive them both mad over time. What will happen?

Female Reader!

Words- 2,584 words

Date- Wednesday, December 6th-Sunday 10th(To write this)

Notes- Okay, so I happen to write a lot, but I never finish stuff because my mind is chaos. This idea came to me when I was listening to La Vie En Rose. This is based on the lyrics, but since the song wasn’t made until the 40s I had to do some rewriting. I don’t know if it will give you 2015 Wattpad vibes, I just thought it was cute. I made this a female reader because I originally was putting my friend’ss name for Y/N. This friend also helped with the quote you will see! I write fluff, yes, but today I was feeling like some angst. I feel like I rushed this so. Please, give me feedback on this. Grammar corrections, plot holes. Tell me! Enjoy!

  -Alx

TUESDAY 7:30 PM.

New York had always been the home for chaos. So, it was no surprise when no one felt on edge at the sign of war. It just needed a push to set everything into motion. Nicky didn’t want you near New York. He needed you to be safe. He attempted to ease you into the thought of moving west until the baby was born, but you said that you weren’t going to have this kid without him. It was all because of this baby. Nicky was extremely enthusiastic about this kid however, you couldn’t help but feel apprehensive. Sure, you wanted kids, just not this early. You didn’t want the epilogue of your movie to come so soon.  You and Nicky have only been wedded for 6 months, but it seemed as if you knew him for a lifetime.

The discussion about you having this kid away from New York put some strain on your marriage. It seemed to be occurring every other week. He would come back from a conference with the bosses and plead for you to move away. It kept repeating until today when he wasn’t begging but demanding you move west.

“Nicholas, you can’t demand me to do anything. This is my kid too. I’ll be damned if the kid is born away from their father!” you sneer.

“You ain’t listening to me Y/N. I’m needed here! The kid can survive without their father.”

You don’t respond. He chewed his lip, waiting for your response. You can’t help but wonder, what happened to the Nicky that couldn’t be away from you for five minutes? The Nicky, who was talking about baby names and what color room they should have? 

“Nicky, why are you so concerned about this, all of the sudden?” 

You sit down in front of him. You relax your palms on the cold glass. Your husband wasn’t familiar with exhaustion, and you could see it on his face. His pink lips no longer curved up into a smile. His cheeks were sunken and no longer a soft shade of red. His hair was frail and hardly stayed slicked back anymore. It tore your heart apart to see him like this.

A wave of emotions hit him at the same time. His eyes flickered up from your stomach to your eyes. You didn’t understand why he kept staring at you like you were going to pop. You didn’t look like you were pregnant yet. Which was a miracle. It was the only reason Nicky would allow you to walk with him sometimes. His lips pressed into a fine line, his eyes were cold.

“Y/N, I’ve always been worried about this kid.” His chest heaved up and down. His shoulders jerked back as if he had just touched something hot. 

Getting annoyed with him, you sigh, “Well, no shit, we both are Nicky.” 

“Then why won’t you go?”

“Nicky, I want to be with you. I can’t just drop everything and leave. I have friends.”

The friends you made around the block. You know it is a horrible excuse, but you couldn’t leave. Just because you were pregnant doesn’t change the fact that you want to be involved. Just because you were pregnant doesn’t change the fact that you should be involved. Right? Nicky snorts and crosses his arms.

“Really? You are acting so childish!” 

“I’m acting childish? I am?” He sits up and leans over the table to get a better look at you. His face relaxes when he sees the disgust in your eyes. He lifts his hand to caress your face. You go to lean into his touch when he draws his hand back.

“I’m going to go for a walk,” he whispers hoarsely.

You gaze down as you hear the legs of his chair scrape against the floor. An uncomfortable pulling sensation swells in your chest as you rest your head in your hands. Your head was spinning. You didn’t comprehend why he wanted you to leave. He said to keep you safe, but there was this unspoken rule where you can’t go for another boss’s loved one. So, why was he so anxious?

 Were you not perfect for him anymore. Was someone else catching his eye? You knew Nicky wasn’t that type of guy, yet the thought of him cheating was on your mind.

Maybe you both rushed things. Maybe having a child was too much. You shift to the kitchen. The faint glow of the lights glistens off the glossy counter. You could still hear the sound of Ralph’s and Nicky’s argument. It had raged on for hours. You felt guilty. Deep down, you knew Ralph was right. You hardly were a part of the family. Having this kid would change Nicky’s entire world. You weren’t sure if he was willing to drop everything like he was when he first met you. You clicked your nails on the side of the chair.

7:50 PM

You were about to get up to look for your husband when the door clicked open. Nicky walks to the counter. His nose was pink. His ears were the same color of rose petals, reminding you of how he blushes. Nicky softly loosens his tie and runs his fingers through his hair. You get up, the clicking of your heels piercing the silence. You run your hands on the cold counter as you turn the corner. When you reach Nicky, he doesn’t turn to look at you. You lean your head on his back. You could feel the warmth of his body trying to penetrate through the thin layer of cold air his jacket had absorbed. Under all the fancy jackets, he was just as nervous as you were to have this kid.

The scent of Nicky’s cologne clouded your senses. You drag your hands to his chest. The light flutter of his heart soothed you. His hands tangle with yours. His thumbs run circles around your ring. You incline onto the balls of your feet and kiss his shoulder.

“Nicky, what aren’t you telling me?” You feel his shoulders tense. He releases his hands and grips the ledge of the table.

“Nicky?” He spins around to face you. His eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed. Your hands make their way to his cheek. He sinks into your touch. He guides your hands back down to his chest and kisses them, as his hands enclose around yours.

“Toots, I don’t know how to explain this.” he sighs. “The rules have gone out the window. Floyd is aiming for loved ones for ransom. For power. He wants to become the boss of all bosses. The other bosses don’t agree with it, but somehow he’s succeeding.” 

Your breath hitches. Aiming for loved ones, “Nicky, he’s aiming for me. Isn’t he?” 

“Not, just you.” Strands of his hair dance in the air as he leans on your shoulder. Suddenly you felt as if your hands were numb. Your jaw hangs loosely, but your lips press into a fine line. Your fingers run through his golden locks as you wait for the silence to feel warm again. 

You kiss his jaw and lean your forehead on his, “Sweetheart, how does he know? Only we knew about the baby.”

Nicky gulps and closes his eyes, “We weren’t the only ones to know about the baby.”

 Your stomach feels like it has dropped into a cold windy pit. The only other person to know about the baby was Ralph. You knew Nicky and Ralph had gotten into a feud. It was about you and the baby. It was intense, and their shouts echoed against every surface in the house. You knew Ralph and Nicky didn’t agree on a lot of things. Yet Ralph always stayed loyal. You remember the first time you asked Ralph why he still talked and cared for Nicky. 

“No matter where you go, you will always find your way back home. Home isn't where the building stands but where your blood runs.” he had said. His fingers fumbled with a cigarette. He smiled and looked at you,  “Il sangue non è acqua. L'unità familiare non riguarda l'essere sulla stessa pagina allo stesso tempo, si tratta di essere nello stesso libro lavorando per lo stesso finale. Scrivi il tuo libro con il sangue.”

Blood is thicker than water. Family unity is not about being on the same page at the same time, it's about being in the same book working toward the same ending. Write your book in blood.

You just chuckled and sat back waiting for him to translate, but he never did. 

When Nicky said the same thing after explaining a story, he translated it. He said it was something his aunt had said to him and Ralph after a fight. One of their other cousins had told the police officers they had started it, and they both got walked home. Although the aunt was furious at the two boys, she was annoyed with the cousin. She had said the quote, and it stuck with the two kids ever since. 

You knew the quote, “Blood is thicker than water.” Your parents would announce it when you wanted to go hang out with friends during a family event. You once brought up the fact that the full quote was “The blood of the covenant is thicker than, the water of the womb.” Meaning the bonds you choose to have are the ones that matter in life, and they got irritated.

“Oh, Nicky…” you whisper. His lips graze over yours as his hands rest on your hips. He lets out an airy groan.

“And I was so excited to throw a party for the kid!” he pouts. You smile at his attempt to lighten the mood. You kiss him with smiles and lazy giggles between each breath. You kiss his cheek.

“You know… Since the last person, we wanted to know about our baby boy knows. We should just throw a party anyway,” you say grinning. You and Nicky have a bet. You bet the baby is a boy, and he bets they are a girl. He laughs. His arms clasp around your chest. He spins around with you in his arms. When he sets you down, he cups your face.

“Well, ain’t that a bright idea toots! I bet our girl wants to have a party in her honor.’

“And after the party… I can move west…” You mumble. Nicky’s face lights up with joy.

He grins and dips you. Your fingers dig into his shoulders.

“Nicky!” you laugh.

“Really? You’ll move west?” he asks as you attempt to flatten his hair.

“Mhm. Do you have a plan?”

“Rocky has family west. I want to invite him over and ask him if they can watch over you-”

“Nicky, I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Toots.” Nicky raises an eyebrow.

“Nicholas.”

“You get into a lot of trouble.”

“I do not!”

FRIDAY- 4:30 PM

You turn to the side, staring at your stomach. You can finally see the baby bump through your clothes. It made you pause and realize that you were about to give up freedom. You would be sitting at home with your kid as Nicky goes out and takes care of business. You would have sleepless nights, of trying not to wake Nicky because he has a meeting in the morning.

“Wow, toots…” Nicky says. His eyes rest on your figure. You cross your arms. 

“Maybe, I should go change,” You say, trying to walk past him. His arm wraps around your shoulders. His chest pushes and pulls against you. In the mirror, his eyes look over every curve on your body, admiring the gorgeous woman in front of him.

“You look like some… goddess,” He says, looking astonished. His free hand slips to your stomach. He rubs the fabric of your dress down. His cheeks were now a ruby red color. Nicky kisses your collarbone. He was happy.

Why shouldn’t he be happy? You made Nicky take a bath. You told him to shave and relax. Your husband was out by 7:30 every night since Tuesday. His teasing demeanor started to reappear the more he relaxed. He was eating more and spending more time with you. Everything was going to plan.

Rocky had congratulated you both on the baby and agreed to have his family check up on you. You made a joke about naming the baby after Rocky, and he said it wouldn’t be a bad idea. Nicky had just laughed.

“I’m nervous.” You whisper.

“Mm. About what?” 

“Everything.”

He grins and twirls your around, “You shouldn’t be. You are perfect. Everyone is going to be excited.”

“Not everyone.”

“Toots, everyone here is going to be excited about baby Valentino.” The new nickname for the baby comforts you. You cup his face.

“As long as the kid has your looks and my brain, everything will be perfect.” 

“Why not your looks and my brain?”

“I don’t want our kid to have a brain the size of an acorn!” You say jokingly.

“Oh yeah?” His hands make their way to your waist. He starts tickling you, “My brain is the size of an acorn.”

You let out a squeal as you try to get out of his grasp. When you get close to escaping, he pulls you back to him with a soft chuckle. You lean your head on his chest. The music from the other room, making you sway together. Nicky kisses your forehead and chuckles.

“Ready?” He asks. You nod and take his arm. You both walk out the door to visit with your guests.

6;15 Am Saturday.

Everything had gone to plan. When Nicky announced the face that you were pregnant, the entire house burst into congratulations and applause. You couldn’t help but smile at Nicky when the applause died down. Nicky was smiling and showing you off. The champagne in his left hand and his right hand on your shoulder. So there you sat, after the party, waiting to be dropped off at a private airport. Nicky sat next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder. He yawned as you ran your hands through his hair. 

He clicked his tongue and looked at his watch, “Damn, I ain’t got a clue where Johnnyboy is.” 

“Maybe he’s running late?” you suggest.

Nicky shakes his head, “No, none of my boys would be late for something like this.”

You snap your head to the screeching of tires. There it was, a gorgeous black car with a masked figure in it. The seats were a milky white. It wasn’t until the figure pulled out a gun did both of you realize what was happening. Nicky goes to push you out of the way, his hands barely making contact with you when a bullet hits his shoulder. His shoulder, his chest, his stomach. The shots echo throughout the chilly air. Blood splattered all over your dress, looking like red rhinestones. You let out a scream and reach for him only to be hit yourself.

Two birds with one stone, Floyd would say. You both were the final gear that needed to be pushed into place, for everything to start moving.  Romeo and Juliet always die in the end, no matter how much they love each other. You both were the Romeo and Juliet of new york, giving people hope. But Gangster movies never have happy endings. Yours was no exception.

[sacklerscumrag]

Part I of III: Stay With Me Series

Notes: Hey ya’ll so i decided to do a little three part Clyde series with some fall vibes! I’ve been feeling a little off lately so i wrote this last night to take my mind off things :) hope you guys like it, I'm already halfway through part 2 and its a long one 😅 There's something about Clyde and a bookstore that just gets me going. Enjoy :)

Summary: Moving to Boone County, West Virginia a year ago today, your entire life has changed. With owning your own bookstore and your favorite holiday around the corner, could love also be in the books for you?

Wordcount: 1.6K 

      The air was cooler, and the leaves had already changed. It was official, Autumn had arrived in Boone County, West Virginia. It had been a year since you moved here and started helping Sam out at your favorite bookstore. Until about a month ago, when he decided it was getting to be too much work for him to keep up with, so he asked you to take over. You headed to the bookstore early that morning to start decorating for Halloween and take in some new inventory for the holiday season. Hanging some orange twinkling lights along the frame of the windows and doors and setting up pumpkins with black tinsel on the bottom of the large window out front to display some books. The store was small and cozy, so there wasn’t space for much.

     You weren’t expecting too many customers today, seeing as it was Sunday, so you settled behind the counter with a good book and some coffee. Flipping through the last pages of your Frankenstein novel, you heard the door chime at around 11:00 am.

     “Good Morning, welcome to Sams” you said barely peeling your eyes away from your book long enough to see who came in. You stood up, setting your coffee down, and walked over to the entrance.

     “Good mornin’ Miss, uh is Sam around?” you turned your gaze to him, about to give him an answer but were taken back by the man standing in front of you. He towered over you with long, wavy, dark locks drizzling down to his broad shoulders that you just wanted to wrap yourself around and never let go. He had dark, sultry eyes with the most exquisite nose you had ever seen, his lips were full, plush, it made you want to drown in them. You noticed his mechanical arm but paid no mind to it, how could you when the man was built like a Greek god. You were sure you had never seen him in the store before, you definitely would’ve remembered.    

     “Ya alright there Miss?” his deep voice snapping you out of your thoughts, you didn’t even realize you were biting your lip, almost tearing at the skin.

     “Yeah sorry I-uh Sam’s not working anymore so I’ll be taking over. Is there anything I can help you find?” trying your best to compose yourself, interlocking your index fingers behind your back.

     “No ma’am its alri- well actually ya got any good books for Halloween? I’m always lookin to read somethin good for the holidays” he put his hand in his pocket, keeping the mechanical one tightly to his side.

     “Of course, follow me” you guided him through the bookshelves, his heavy footsteps following closely behind you. He was slightly hunching over to fit himself in between the shelves before you reached a small, black table decorated with spiderwebs in the back of the store.

     “These are all my favorite Halloween books I’ve read so far” stepping to the side to give him a better view of the array of books.

     “Ya read all o’ these?”

     “Yeah, I guess you could say readings a hobby of mine” you turned to give him a smile only to see he was already smiling at you. “If you need anything else, I’ll be by the counter” quickly walking away before he could see the heat rising to your face.

     About an hour or so later, he came back with two books in his hand and placed them on the counter along with a crisp bill.

     “On the house” you said pushing them back towards him.

     “I can’t let ya do that Miss I-“ he placed his hand on the books but you cut him off by putting your hand on his.

     “The only form of payment I’ll be accepting is your name” he swallowed hard, looking down at where your hands were still touching then looking back at you.

     “My name’s Clyde” you withdrew your hand from his, already missing the warmth, and settled back behind the counter.

     “It’s nice to meet you Clyde” you told him your name as he stuffed the money back in his pocket.

     “Well, that’s a beautiful name. It’s nice to meet ya. I better head on out then. Have a nice day, and thank ya again” you gave him a smile, noticing the flush in his cheeks.

      “Have a nice day, Clyde” he grabbed his book and headed out the door. It wasn’t until after he left that you realized how flustered he made you, releasing a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.

      The following week flew by and as Halloween approached the bookstore got busier. Finding yourself with less time to daydream about Clyde and those alluring eyes of his, you were dumbfounded as to how such a large man could be as shy and reserved as Clyde was.

     When Sunday rolled around, you were looking forward to seeing him again. You woke up that morning, did your hair and applied some light make up. Wearing your favorite pair of high waisted black jeans, throwing on a long black sleeve with a ghost in the center, and your black boots as you grabbed your coat and headed out the door.

     A few customers passed through in the morning, still giving you time to read through your book and tidy up the store a bit. Clyde came in at his usual time, looking as handsome as ever.

     “Mornin” your name sounded like honey coming from his mouth, you could listen to that man talk all day. He stood by the door, hands fidgeting with the sides of his jeans.

     “Good Morning Clyde, how’s your day going?” putting your coffee down to look at him.

     “Gettin much better now” he said looking down, a slight smirk appearing on his face “I loved the book ya recommended for me, finished it last night.”

     “I’m glad you liked it, are you back for another?” you made your way around the counter, suddenly needing to be as close to him as possible.

     “Yes ma’am, do you happen to have Frankenstein? Saw the movie last night n I been dyin to read it”

     “I just finished reading that one actually, it’s a classic. Did you see the original black and white film? That’s my favorite”

     “Yeah, it’s the only one I’ll watch, I love all em black and white movies. Thought I was the only one.”

     “Not at all, those are my favorite too” you said pacing towards the bookshelf, scanning it. “We actually don’t have that one in stock but” walking to the counter, returning with the novel. “You can borrow mine if you’d like”

     “Ya don’t have to, I’d hate to cause ya any trouble.”

     “Clyde, it’s no trouble at all” you said handing the book to him.

     “You have any favorites you can show me? I really wanted to take home more than one today” he clutched the book you gave him close to his side. You both made your way over as you showed Clyde your favorite section of the store. It seemed like hours passed as you both discussed your favorite books and authors. The more you talked, the more you realized you and Clyde had much more in common than you thought.

     After some time, Clyde paid for his book, mumbling something about being late to work as he walked out. Your heart raced watching him nervously fumble with the books in hand.

      Another week went by with Clyde on your mind. Before you knew it, it was another chilly, Sunday morning. You had picked up some cookies and pastries for some of your loyal customers and settled in with your book behind the counter. You saw Clyde’s truck pull into the parking lot a bit earlier than usual.

     “Mornin” Clyde walked in with a book under his arm and two coffee cups in his hands. He was wearing a navy-blue button-down shirt with a black undershirt and jeans that were too tight for your own good.

     “Good morning Clyde, back for something new?” he chuckled lightly at your response while walking towards you.

     “This if for ya” he places the book and a coffee cup on the counter “For lending me this, I appreciate it” the way he smiled at you making something ignite in your core.

     “You brought me coffee? Thank you, Clyde” you damn near melted at this gesture “Anything I can help you find today?”

     He approached the counter, arms tightly at his side and chewing on his lip. You could tell whatever it was he had to say was making him nervous. He placed a hand on the counter and took a deep breath.

     “I just came by to ask ya something. M’ sorry if this is too forward o’ me or if it makes ya uncomfortable but will ya do me the honor of goin out on a date with me? I been meanin’ to ask ya since the first day I came in. I know a girl like you can do a heck of a lot better than me but if you just-”

     “Clyde, I would love to go on a date with you” his eyes darted to yours, almost like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.     

     “How bout a movie then? At the drive-in? Their showin a black and white movie, Frankstein like the book ya been readin. Tomorrow at 7?” he cleared his throat, worried he sounded too eager as soon as the words left his mouth.

     “That sounds wonderful Clyde” he smiled at you before looking at his watch.

     “I gotta go Darlin but I’ll pick ya up tomorrow at 7 then” you nodded as he turned and walked out.

     Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

[readingismyoxygen]

Married to a stranger ch3

ch1 / ch2 / ch3

“Your what now?! Please tell me I heard that wrong!” Iris exclaimed.

“Sadly, no, you heard that right Miss. As Kid Flash just said, my hero persona is Ladybug, and I’m a hero in Paris, France. A  woman named Crow kidnapped both of us, and with the threat of bombing Central City, forced us into a marriage. How legitimate it is, I don’t know, but I rather not take the risk of losing thousands of lives again.”

“This is all so hard to believe. Crow is obviously not a real name, and the threat of bombs could be real so we’ll need  to search the city to be sure an- wait, you said again? What did you mean by that?” Vibe interrupted himself. The other heroes  had relaxed a bit after seeing the girl made no move  to attack, but tensed again when he asked her that.

“What I mean is that Paris was already attacked by her bombs. As the Wielder of Creation, I was able to reverse the damage and restore everything, but that left me so weak that Crow and her goons were easily able to kidnap me.” Ladybug said. But no matter how confident she looked, Wally could see the nervousness in her eyes and the unsteadiness of her legs. Well, after having saved her city, being drugged, being forced into a marriage, drugged again and then an interrogation of unfamiliar, threatening looking heroes, it was no wonder she was exhausted.

“Listen guys, Ladybug has no evil intentions, we need to make sure there are no bombs and I’m sure there are many more questions. Can we just sit down for a minute so everyone can explain everything calmly?” Kid Flash intervened.

“That might be best. Come on kids, this way.”

Cisco led everyone to the communal space/ living room they used when there wasn’t that much crime to deal with. As soon as everyone was seated, a pink light enveloped Ladybug, and where the masked hero was sitting a moment before, was now a young woman in black jeans, a navy blouse with wide sleeves and black heels. Her hair was in a braid draped across her left shoulder, almost reaching her waist, and before anyone could ask any questions she caught a red being from the air, said something to it in French and put it in a small black purse she suddenly had with her.

“I’m sorry about that, Tikki couldn’t hold it any longer.” She said to everyone. “My real name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I’m 19 years old and I live in Paris. Until recently, we had to deal with an emotional terrorist named Hawkmoth, who used butterflies infused with darkness to turn people with negative emotions into his puppets. He wanted the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous to make a wish, so he tried to defeat me and my partner Chat Noir on multiple occasions. We defeated him almost two months ago and he was placed under police surveillance while waiting for his sentence.”

Everyone  just looked at her, stunned.

“Sooo, you’re magical? Because nothing about this makes any sense and I’m pretty sure that being you just stuffed in your pocket was what powers your suit -it’s name was Tikki, right?- and I still have so many questions.” Vibe told her. Marinette had expected this, so with everyone paying attention to her every word, she explained the Miraculous, the Kwami (Tikki pooped up for a little to help with that) and everything else that had been going on. At the end of her story, almost all of them were still too baffled to make much sense of it, but they did relax a lot more than before.

~~

Wally was confused. Ladybug -Marinette- had been through so much as a hero, had faced a lot of hardships already, but she still chose to reveal her identity to them and tell them everything. He sensed no ill intent, and as he saw his teammates a lot calmer than before, knew they felt the same. Ultimately, it was just the question of what to do now that kept going around in his head, but someone asked before he could. Killer Frost asked her if she had any way to get back home, but Marinette shook her head. 

“I don’t have the Horse Miraculous with me, which allows me to make portals, and I don’t have the proper paperwork to be able to book a flight to Paris and get through the checkpoints at the airport.” At that, Vibe jumped up.

“You can make portals too? If you want, I could help you get back to Paris!” Before anyone else could answer, Tikki flew up from her purse. 

“While I thank you for the offer, I know it will not work. Your portals and Miraculous magic do not mix, and Marinette would die if she tried to go through. The same would happen if you tried to go through one of Kaalki’s portals.” At those words, everyone fell silent.

“So, what you’re saying is, Marinette is stuck here for the time being.” Flash asked Tikki.

“Yes, I’m afraid so.” At that, Joe decided to speak up. 

“If you want, you can stay with me for a while, until we sort everything out. I have a big house, but my sons and daughter don’t live there anymore and I don’t have a lot of company that isn’t already part of this group. As a cop, I can also see if there’s anything i can help with.”

The team exchanged some uncertain glances, but ultimately, it was the best they could do for now.

“Thank you for the offer, Monsieur West. I really appreciate it,” Marinette said with a smile. Wally had to admit that that was a very pretty smile. He had to admit that, while this meeting of theirs was very unusual, he was kind of glad that if he had to be arranged to marry anyone, it was this little spitfire of a  hero with an iron will but kind heart.

[originalhybridloverfics]

You Have Failed This Challenge

Summary:Felicity and Oliver take some unexpected time off to get breakfast with friends and show how a challenge is called.

A/N: This was a one-shot request by @rennywilson. Hopefully, its close to what they wanted.

I would like to put in as a side note that I do not know Ava, Kara or Lena's characters that well. I do not watch Supergirl. I stopped watching legends after season 2 and I stopped watching Flash after the bodyswap crossover.

“Sorry, we’re late,” Felicity apologized, taking a seat across from Ava and Iris.

Oliver took the seat next to her.

Everyone had gathered in Central City to spend some rare time with friends and Oliver and Felicity had agreed to meet up with Barry and Iris, Ava and Sara, Kara, and Lena.

By some miracle, everyone was in town at the same time, and things were quiet in the streets.

“Always running late,” Barry commented.

Iris smacked his arm and signaled for a waitress. “We were waiting for you to get here.”

“We didn’t know what you would want,” Ava said.

“That’s fine. We already ate.” Oliver said.

"Why did you go ahead and eat breakfast if we were meeting up here?" Kara wondered.

“Oliver likes to fix me breakfast in bed,” Felicity said.

"You trained him well," Lena smirked and Felicity laughed.

“Ollie, you cook now?” Sara grinned.

“I dabble,” Oliver said as the waitress arrived at their table.

Felicity snorted, earning looks from everyone and a smile from Oliver.

The waitress took everyone’s orders, Oliver and Felicity ordering just coffee for themselves.

“I have a hard time believing Oliver Queen can cook,” Barry grinned. “Didn’t you grow up with a housekeeper or something?”

“Raisa,” Oliver said.

"Why do you assume just because someone has money they can't cook?" Lena questioned.

"Statistics," Eva interjected.

“Oliver is an excellent cook. He gets any better and I’m gonna need a new wardrobe.” Felicity reached out, taking his hand. “It’s better than some restaurants.”

“I don’t believe it,” said Ava. “Sara can’t cook to save her life. I doubt Oliver could.”

“Hey, I can cook,” Sara protested.

“Microwaving doesn’t count,” Oliver stated, earning a half-hearted glare from Sara.

"Kara can cook," Lena offered. "I have no need for room service."

Kara smiled over at Lena. "You would like anything I would make full you even if it tastes awful."

"True," Lena smiled over at her girlfriend, reaching out to brush Kara's hair over her shoulder.

“Barry’s a great cook,” Iris smiled over at Barry.

“Who's better though?” Sara smirked. “I’m really not that bad myself.”

“Not bad?” Ava interjected. “Not bad. You can do a lot of things but cooking isn’t one of them.”

“Really?” Sara shot her a look in disbelief and Ava leaned forward kissing her in apology.

Felicity smiled. “Oliver is basically a five-star chef, I don’t see anyone at this table being a better cook than him.”

Oliver smiled at Felicity’s praise, he tugged her to his side and kissed her neck.

“I’m gonna have to disagree, Barry, is an unbelievable cook and he had a great teacher in my dad,” Iris said.

“Oh,” Barry leaned forward. “Why don’t we find out who is the better cook? Me or Oliver?”

Oliver leaned forward. “Prepare to lose, Barry.”

“I’m gonna prove to all that I can be just as good as anyone at this table,” Sara said, sending a smirk everyone’s way.

"I'm in," Said Kara eagerly. "This sounds like this could be fun."

“Where is the challenge going to take place?” Felicity questioned. “And when?”

“Tomorrow,” said Iris, sending Barry a look of encouragement. “We’ll meet at noon with the prepared dishes and we’ll hold a tasting to see who wins, with Ava, Felicity, Lena, and I acting as the judges.”

Everyone agreed and enjoyed their meals.

After leaving the cafe, Oliver dragged Felicity around to the market with the best fresh vegetables and fruits.

It took hours before Oliver was satisfied, throughout the day Felicity pestered him about what he was going to make but he insisted on not telling her until tomorrow.

They returned back to their suite. Felicity settled onto the counter as Oliver put everything away.

Their suite at their hotel was very much like an apartment with a full kitchen, bedroom, and living room.  

“You know you could always find out what Barry, Kara, and Sara plan on cooking,” Oliver suggested putting away the last of the groceries.

“Isn’t that cheating?” Felicity asked, sending him a sharp look.

“Don’t look at it as cheating,” Oliver moved over to her, moving in between her legs and tugging her to the edge of the counter, wrapping his arms around her. “Look at it as being prepared.”

“And I’m supposed to help you with this?” Felicity fisted her hand in his shirt.

“Yes, your Felicity, the one person I rely on more than anyone,”

“Stop, trying to sweet-talk me,” Felicity slid her hand up his chest and curled around his neck and tugged him down, till they were breathing the same air. “If you’re trying to persuade me you should kiss me.”

Oliver’s eyes smoldered. She never had to tell him to kiss her.

His mouth closed the last remaining distance between them.

Felicity matched his every move as the kiss grew deeper, their passion being felt through every nerve ending.

Felicity and Oliver forgot everything but their desire for one another.

                                                 ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Oliver was up first thing in the morning but Felicity absolutely refused to get out of bed so early when she was still exhausted from their activities the night before.

Not even the smell of fresh coffee in the morning was enough to get her up.

She fell back asleep, her muscles relaxing into the mattress.

However later she woke up to the pleasant feeling of Oliver, kissing up her naked back, his hands smoothing over her arms.

She let out a low hum. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to get up.” Oliver placed a kiss behind her ear.

“I don’t wanna. Too tired.” Felicity rolled onto her back and her eyes immediately took in Oliver's naked chest. She tugged him closer, her hands sliding over his abs and lower to the waist of his pants, her hands starting to push at them.

“I thought you were tired,” he tugged at the sheet covering her, pulling away from her body.

“I’m never too tired for you.” Felicity arched up, pressing her body against him, encouraging him to touch her, be with her.

Oliver pressed his mouth against hers, surrendering to their desires.

                                                   ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Felicity hurried and pulled on a sundress as Oliver went to get the door. They had just gotten out of the shower when the bell ranged.

She quickly ran a brush through her hair and pulled it up into her signature high ponytail. She slipped on her glasses before leaving the room to join Oliver at the door to greet their guest.

Oliver was closing the door behind Ava, Sara, Lena, Kara, Barry, and Iris.

“Morning.” Felicity greeted. “Who wants coffee?”

Everyone but Sara and Oliver raised their hands.

“Okay, I will get on that.” Felicity moved toward the kitchen, leaving Oliver to entertain their guest.

“I’ll help.” Iris squeezed Barry's hand before following her into the kitchen.

“Do you know how Ava, Lena, or Kara like their coffee?” Felicity wondered as she found four coffee mugs in the cabinet.

“No, but I would just keep it simple,” Iris replied. “Did we come too early?”

“No, why do you ask?” Felicity asked as she poured four cups of coffee and slid them down the counter toward Iris for sugar and cream.

“Your hair is still wet from the shower.” Iris shrugged. “Plus, your dress is inside out.”

Felicity looked down at her dress quickly and to her embarrassment Iris was right. “Frack, okay, yes, we were just getting out of the shower when you guys got here,”

“We,” Iris repeated, smirking.

“Get your head out of the gutter West.” Felicity wagged her finger at her.

Iris laughed. “Why don’t you fix your dress and I will finish up the coffees.”

“Thanks.” Felicity smiled. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

                                                ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

When Felicity rejoined them Oliver and Barry were already trash-talking one another. Ava looked slightly annoyed and Sara was smiling in amusement. Iris sipped at her coffee, scrolling through her phone, Kara and Lena were whispering to one another with sweet smiles.

Felicity took the seat on the arm of the chair Oliver was sitting in. “What have I missed?”

“Oliver and Barry arguing about who's going to win.” Iris looked up from her phone. “All the ingredients Barry and Sara are gonna need for their dishes was already brought in and the competition will be underway in an hour.”

Felicity let out a yelp as Oliver tugged her onto his lap without warning. He handed her coffee to her without once stopping his immature back in forth with Barry. “Barry, you are going to learn I can cook with the best of them.”

“We’ll see, Mr. I grew up with a Russian housemaid.” Barry snarked.

“She has a name. Raisa and she’s family.” Oliver defended with a scowl but his eyes gave away his amusement.

“Is this going to go on the entire hour?” Ava asked, pulling Sara’s hand in her lap and interlacing their fingers.

“Yes,” Sara answered. “It’s entertaining to watch. Like a ping pong match.”

"Reminds me of Alex and me when we were younger," Kara smiled.

"They do have that big brother, little brother vibe going," Lena commented.

Felicity settled back against Oliver, sipping at her coffee.

Oliver’s arm tightened around her, settling on her hip, his thumb brushing against her skin.

The hour passed in the same fashion. Barry and Oliver argued. Sara and Felicity got to talking about Detective Lance and Ava, Lena, Kara, and Iris started talking about work.

The women all decided to leave Barry and Oliver to their childish arguing.

                                                 ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

Felicity growled as the smell of food filled the air.

“Mmm,” Iris hummed. “Whatever their cooking smells good.”

“They shouldn’t all be preparing their dishes at the same time,” Ava said in disapproval. “It’s a disaster waiting to happen. Something’s bound to go wrong.”

“Probably but if Oliver can salvage my horrible cooking he can salvage any disaster in the kitchen that comes his way,” Felicity said confidently.

“You’re serious about him being a chef-level cook?” Iris asked in surprise. “I thought you were just saying that for Oliver.”

“Nope, Oliver is an amazing cook,” Felicity said. “You’ll see. Wait, does that mean you were just praising Barry’s cooking for his benefit.”

“I mean, he’s good but not restaurant good,” Iris said.

"What about Kara?" Ava wondered looking at Lena. "Can she cook or do you encouraged her to protect her feelings.

"I don't need to protect Kara's feelings," said Lena. "There really is nothing she's not good at. She's perfect."

“That's sweet." Felicity complimented. "What about Sara?” Felicity turned to Ava. “What is Sara’s cooking really like?”

“She’s passable,” Ava admitted. “But out of the two of us, I would prefer to handle the cooking.”

Iris and Felicity smiled and nodded along.

“Sara’s lucky then,” said Iris. “I can’t cook. Everything I cook tastes bad.”

“At least it’s edible,” said Felicity. “My cooking is likely to poison someone.”

The women laugh, sharing amusement in their shared failures in the kitchen, well Iris and Felicity’s case.

                                              ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ 

“Sara, what are you doing?” Oliver asked dumbfounded. “You don’t put pineapple in omelets.”

Sara shot him a glare. “Do I tell you how to cook? No, I don’t and it’s a Hawaiian omelet. Now shut up and make your plain old pancakes.”

“They are not plain. Their banana and chocolate chip and Felicity loves them.” Oliver defended.

Sara rolled her eyes.

“Would you two stop bickering? I’m trying to make grill cheese over here.” Barry complained, nudging them out of his way.

“Anyone can make grilled cheese.” Sara scoffed.

“Not Felicity,” Oliver muttered, his eyes shooting to the doorway making sure she didn’t hear.

“Hey, don’t mock my grill cheese.” Barry whirled around. “Like pancakes and omelets are so much better?”

"Keeping it simple isn't a bad thing," Kara interjected.

"Says the woman who is just making french toast," Oliver replies, staring at her toast with distaste, always a food critic.

Their arguments escalated slowly, voices growing.

                                                 ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Iris, Ava, Lena, and Felicity could hear their voice growing louder as they bickered like children but stayed out of it until suddenly the smell of burnt food filled the air and the smoke detector started blaring loudly.

Felicity rushed into the kitchen to see Sara waving her hands frantically through smoke from the stove. Barry grabbed for the smoke detector and Oliver soaked a sizzling pan in the sink. Kara was setting burnt dishes on the counter, her nose crinkled at the smell.

“What happened?”

Iris, Lena, and Ava burst into the room behind Felicity.

“It was Sara’s fault!” Barry and Oliver accused.

“Me? You're the two who couldn’t stop bickering with your constant need to best the other!” Sara defended. "And what about Kara?"

"I didn't do anything?" Kara protested.

Felicity walked further in the room, taking notice of the burnt food dishes on the counter. She scrunched up her nose. “If I didn’t know better I would think I was the one who has been in the kitchen cooking breakfast.”

“Very funny,” Oliver said but he couldn’t help but smile at her.

Felicity tugged on his shirt, bringing him closer to her. “Oliver?”

“Hmm?” Oliver was suddenly distracted by her close proximity, he could hear Iris telling Barry to leave the smoke detector alone and Ava complaining about the smoke, Lena complained about the smell of burnt food, but it all faded away with Felicity pressed against him, looking up at him sweetly.

“You have failed this challenge,” Felicity told him, her eyes shining with laughter.

Oliver opened and closed his mouth before burying his face in her neck laughing.

Their friends and their failed cooking challenge were forgotten, he pulled back and kissed her soundly.

A/N: I hope this was enjoyable.I am struggling to write through some writer's block but I'm trying to get through it.

Tags: @rennywilson @mariestark @omglovechrissie

If I forgot to tag anyone I apologize I am trying to get back into the swing of things writing wise. Feel free to remind me about tags. 

[aaronmaurer]

TV I Liked in 2020

Every year I reflect on the pop culture I enjoyed and put it in some sort of order.

Was there ever a year more unpredictably tailor-made for peak TV than 2020? Lockdowns/quarantines/stay-at-home orders meant a lot more time at home and the occasion to check out new and old favorites. (I recognize that if you’re lucky enough to have kids or roommates or a S.O., your amount of actual downtime may have been wildly different). While the pandemic resulted in production delays and truncated seasons for many shows, the continued streaming-era trends of limited series and 8-13 episode seasons mean that a lot of great and satisfying storytelling still made its way to the screen. As always, I in no way lay any claims to “best-ness” or completeness – this is just a list of the shows that brought me the most joy and escapism in a tough year and therefore might be worth putting on your radar.

10 Favorites

10. The Right Stuff: Season 1 (Disney+)

As a space program enthusiast, even I had to wonder, does the world really need another retelling of NASA’s early days? Especially since Tom Wolfe’s book has already been adapted as the riveting and iconoclastic Philip Kaufman film of the same name? While some may disagree, I find that this Disney+ series does justify its existence by focusing more on the relationships of the astronauts and their personal lives than the technical science (which may be partially attributable to budget limitations?). The series is kind of like Mad Men but with NASA instead of advertising (and real people, of course), so if that sounds intriguing, I encourage you to give it a whirl.

9. Fargo: Season 4 (FX)

As a big fan of Noah Hawley’s Coen Brothers pastiche/crime anthology series, I was somewhat let down by this latest season. Drawing its influence primarily from the likes of gangster drama Miller’s Crossing – one of the Coens’ least comedic/idiosyncratic efforts – this season is more straightforward than its predecessors and includes a lot of characters and plot-threads that never quite cohere. That said, it is still amongst the year’s most ambitious television with another stacked cast, and the (more-or-less) standalone episode “East/West” is enough to make the season worthwhile.

8. The Last Dance (ESPN)

Ostensibly a 10-episode documentary about the 1990s Chicago Bulls’ sixth and final NBA Championship run, The Last Dance actually broadens that scope to survey the entire history of Michael Jordan and coach Phil Jackson’s careers with the team. Cleverly structured with twin narratives that chart that final season as well as an earlier timeframe, each episode also shifts the spotlight to a different person, which provides focus and variety throughout the series. And frankly, it’s also just an incredible ride to relive the Jordan era and bask in his immeasurable talent and charisma – while also getting a snapshot of his outsized ego and vices (though he had sign-off on everything, so it’s not exactly a warts-and-all telling).

7. The Queen’s Gambit (Netflix)

This miniseries adaptation of the Walter Tevis coming-of-age novel about a chess prodigy and her various addictions is compulsively watchable and avoids the bloat of many other streaming series (both in running time and number of episodes). The 1960s production design is stunning and the performances, including Anya Taylor-Joy in the lead role, are convincing and compelling.

6. The Great: Season 1 (hulu)

Much like his screenplay for The Favourite, Tony McNamara’s series about Catherine the Great rewrites history with a thoroughly modern and irreverent sensibility (see also: Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette). Elle Fanning brings a winning charm and strength to the title role and Nicholas Hoult is riotously entertaining as her absurdly clueless and ribald husband, Emperor Peter III. Its 10-episodes occasionally tilt into repetitiveness, but when the ride is this fun, why complain? Huzzah!

  5. Dispatches From Elsewhere (AMC)

A limited (but possibly anthology-to-be?) series from creator/writer/director/actor Jason Segal, Dispatches From Elsewhere is a beautiful and creative affirmation of life and celebration of humanity. The first 9 episodes form a fulfilling and complete arc, while the tenth branches into fourth wall-breaking meta territory, which may be a bridge too far for some (but is certainly ambitious if nothing else). Either way, it’s a movingly realized portrait of honesty, vulnerability and empathy, and I highly recommend visiting whenever it inevitably makes its way to Netflix, or elsewhere…

4. What We Do in the Shadows: Season 2 (FX)

The second season of WWDITS is more self-assured and expansive than the first, extending a premise I loved from its antecedent film – but was skeptical could be sustained – to new and reinvigorated (after)life. Each episode packs plenty of laughs, but for my money, there is no better encapsulation of the series’ potential and Matt Berry’s comic genius than “On The Run,” which guest-stars Mark Hamill and features Laszlo’s alter ego Jackie Daytona, regular human bartender.

3. Ted Lasso: Season 1 (AppleTV+)

Much more than your average fish-out-of-water comedy, Jason Sudeikis’ Ted Lasso is a brilliant tribute to humaneness, decency, emotional intelligence and good coaching – not just on the field. The fact that its backdrop is English Premier League Soccer is just gravy (even if that’s not necessarily represented 100% proficiently). A true surprise and gem of the year.

2. Mrs. America (hulu)

This FX miniseries explores the women’s liberation movement and fight for the Equal Rights Amendment in the 1970s and its opposition by conservative women including Phyllis Schlafly. One of the most ingenious aspects of the series is centering each episode on a different character, which rotates the point of view and helps things from getting same-y. With a slate of directors including Ryan Bowden and Anna Fleck (Half-Nelson, Sugar, Captain Marvel) and an A-List cast including Cate Blanchett, Rose Byrne, Uzo Aduba, Sarah Paulson, Margo Martindale, Tracey Ulman and Elizabeth Banks, its quality is right up there with anything on the big screen. And its message remains (sadly) relevant as ever in our current era.

1. The Good Place: Season 4 (NBC)

It was tempting to omit The Good Place this year or shunt it to a side category since only the final 4 episodes aired in 2020, but that would have been disingenuous. This show is one of my all-time favorites and it ended perfectly. The series finale is a representative mix of absurdist humor and tear-jerking emotion, built on themes of morality, self-improvement, community and humanity. (And this last run of eps also includes a pretty fantastic Timothy Olyphant/Justified quasi-crossover.) Now that the entire series is available to stream on Netflix (or purchase in a nice Blu-ray set), it’s a perfect time to revisit the Good Place, or check it out for the first time if you’ve never had the pleasure.

5 of the Best Things I Caught Up With

Anne With An E (Netflix/CBC)

Another example of classic literature I had no prior knowledge of (see also Little Women and Emma), this Netflix/CBC adaptation of Anne of Green Gables was strongly recommended by several friends so I finally gave it a shot. While this is apparently slightly more grown-up than the source material, it’s not overly grimdark or self-serious but rather humane and heartfelt, expanding the story’s scope to include Black and First Nations peoples in early 1800s Canada, among other identities and themes. It has sadly been canceled, but the three seasons that exist are heart-warming and life-affirming storytelling. Fingers crossed that someday we’ll be gifted with a follow-up movie or two to tie up some of the dangling threads.

Better Call Saul (AMC)

I liked Breaking Bad, but I didn’t have much interest in an extended “Breaking Bad Universe,” as much as I appreciate star Bob Odenkirk’s multitalents. Multiple recommendations and lockdown finally provided me the opportunity to catch up on this prequel series and I’m glad I did. Just as expertly plotted and acted as its predecessor, the series follows Jimmy McGill/Saul Goodman on his own journey to disrepute but really makes it hard not to root for his redemption (even as you know that’s not where this story ends).

Joe Pera Talks With You (Adult Swim)

It’s hard to really describe the deadpan and oddly soothing humor of comedian Joe Pera whose persona, in the series at least, combines something like the earnestness of Mr. Rogers with the calm enthusiasm of Bob Ross. Sharing his knowledge on the likes of how to get the best bite out of your breakfast combo, growing a bean arch and this amazing song “Baba O’Reilly” by the Who – have you heard it?!? – Pera provides arch comfort that remains solidly on the side of sincerity. The surprise special he released during lockdown, “Relaxing Old Footage with Joe Pera,” was a true gift in the middle of a strange and isolated year.

The Mandalorian (Disney+)

One of the few recent Star Wars properties that lives up to its potential, the adventures of Mando and Grogu is a real thrill-ride of a series with outstanding production values (you definitely want to check out the behind-the-scenes documentary series if you haven’t). I personally prefer the first season, appreciating its Western-influenced vibes and somewhat-more-siloed story. The back half of the second season veers a little too much into fan service and video game-y plotting IMHO but still has several excellent episodes on offer, especially the Timothy Olyphant-infused energy of premiere “The Marshall” and stunning cinematography of “The Jedi.” And, you know, Grogu.

The Tick (Amazon Prime)

I’ve been a fan of the Tick since the character’s Fox cartoon and indie comic book days and also loved the short-lived Patrick Warburton series from 2001. I was skeptical about this Amazon Prime reboot, especially upon seeing the pilot episode’s off-putting costumes. Finally gaining access to Prime this year, I decided to catch up and it gets quite good!, especially in Season 2. First, the costumes are upgraded; second, Peter Serafinowicz’s initially shaky characterization improves; and third, it begins to come into its own identity. The only real issue is yet another premature cancellation for the property, meaning Season 2’s tease of interdimensional alien Thrakkorzog will never be fulfilled. 😢

Bonus! 5 More Honorable Mentions:

City So Real (National Geographic)

The Good Lord Bird (Showtime)

How To with John Wilson: Season 1 (HBO)

Kidding: Season 2 (Showtime)

Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt: Kimmy Vs The Reverend (Netflix)

[asmolbirb]

A Dandelion By Any Other Name

Pairing: Geralt/Jaskier Rating: K Word count: ~3.7k AO3 link in the notes (as I’m not sure whether Tumblr is still hiding posts with external links from the search)

“Something’s wrong with him. I need you to fix it,” Geralt growls. He’s holding Jaskier by the back of his collar, and he pushes Jaskier forward now, in case Yennefer had any doubt who he meant. 

“It’s really nothing,” Jaskier babbles. “A temporary affliction. I’ll be right as rain within the fortnight, don’t you fret.” He pauses. Then he goes limp in Geralt’s grip, causing Geralt to lose his balance for a split second. “On second thought, Geralt, I’m feeling quite weak, and also feverish, and there’s a strange ache in my right thumb. There’s nothing for it, I shall simply have to ride on Roach while I recover, though I warn you this illness is nigh incurable–”

“He seems fine,” Yennefer observes, speaking over Jaskier.

Geralt only shakes his head. He lets go of Jaskier, who crumples to the floor with a surprised cry, to shrug his pack off his shoulder and root around in its depths. After a moment, he pulls out something clutched delicately in a loose fist, and when Yennefer reaches out for it, he unfurls his fingers to drop a single dandelion into her palm. 

Jaskier has picked himself up off the floor by now. He brushes himself off with exaggerated gestures. He is conspicuously silent.

“He’s been coughing those up for at least a week. Maybe longer,” Geralt explains. “He won’t tell me when it began.”

Yennefer examines the bedraggled flower. Half of its yellow petals are missing, and the brown center is coarse to the touch. “He’s been coughing full blossoms for the past week?”

“He is right here, and he’s telling you, he’s fine,” Jaskier insists again. He is summarily ignored.

“Yes,” Geralt says to Yennefer. “Is it a curse?”

Yennefer huffs a laugh and rolls the flower between her fingers, watching as a few more petals detach from its center and float to the ground. “Some might call it that.” She turns her gaze to Jaskier, and Geralt does the same. Jaskier’s eyes are wide, a plea writ large upon his face. When he catches Yennefer looking, he shakes his head slightly. Whatever he is asking doesn’t seem to deter her, though, because she smirks and says, “Your bard’s in love. Rather desperately so, if the state of this blossom is any indication.”

“Fuck,” says Jaskier. 

“Love?” says Geralt.

“There is no cure,” says Yennefer. “At least, there is none that I can offer. The flowers feed on unrequited feelings; whoever he loves must return his feelings in order to starve the flowers of their fuel, and no potion in the world can force someone to love another. Now, I can offer a palliative measure--”

“No,” Jaskier says quickly, all humor gone from his voice. “I know the treatment of which you speak, and I don’t want it. I’ll deal with this myself.”

Geralt rounds on him. “You’re no healer,” he points out. “If there is a treatment, take it! Even a temporary reprieve may give you time to seek another cure.”

But Jaskier only shakes his head. “It isn’t that easy,” he says, and he sounds weary to the bone, stripped of all the pretenses he dons like a second doublet. “All magic comes with a price. Isn’t that right, witch?”

Yennefer nods. “The treatment temporarily removes the flowers by utterly eradicating the victim’s affections,” she explains to Geralt. “With nothing to root in, the flowers will wither. But the flowers are not uprooted entirely, and if he were to fall in love again, they would return, this time doubled in quantity. At that point, the only outcomes are true cure or death.”

“I would have to be a fool to willfully hasten my own death,” says Jaskier. Silence reigns for a long moment. Then Jaskier brightens, albeit with visible effort. “Do you both have cotton stuffed in your ears? As I’ve been saying all this time, this affliction is temporary, and this little detour was a complete waste of time. Come along, Geralt, you’ve got monsters to kill, and I, ballads to compose.” So saying, he heads for the door, leaving Geralt and Yennefer standing alone in the foyer of the abandoned cottage she has claimed for herself. 

“He will die without the treatment, unless he is able to eradicate his feelings himself,” Yennefer says as Geralt shoulders his pack once more. She holds the flower out to him, but he shakes his head in silent refusal, and she crushes it instead, releasing a shower of brown and golden dust. Geralt can just make out patches of faint yellow smeared upon her fingertips. “The disease starts with petals and progresses to full-stemmed flowers. For him to have been coughing blossoms for a week already… It would be kinder to put him out of his misery than let him suffer through the rest.”

Geralt grunts in acknowledgement. With a final nod of thanks, he turns to follow after Jaskier.

“Men and their pride,” he hears Yennefer sigh just before the door closes.

--

Jaskier refuses to stay with Yennefer, going so far as to threaten to steal away on Roach in the middle of the night if Geralt tries to keep him here against his will. 

“You could try,” Geralt says in a low tone. Nonetheless, he sets a course for the nearest town. It is a detour from the border they had originally been pushing toward, but Geralt would prefer to have a healer close at hand in case Jaskier’s condition deteriorates further.

If Jaskier notices Geralt nudging Roach further to the west, he says nothing of it. Instead, he keeps up a constant stream of chatter, pausing only to retch dandelions into the tallgrass every so often. They set up camp once the sun has sunk beneath the horizon, leaving in its wake a painted sky and a noticeable chill. As Jaskier works on setting a pile of kindling aflame, Geralt leaves to hunt down dinner; when he returns, wild fowl in hand, he catches Jaskier trying unsuccessfully to hide the growing pile of dandelion blossoms tucked in against his lute case. 

“Who’s the unlucky woman?” Geralt asks, stepping into the firelight.

Jaskier starts, dandelions spilling from his hands. He hastily brushes them away. “Gods, Geralt, must you always sneak up on me? This is why you have an image problem, you know. Don’t get me wrong, the whole tall, dark, and murderous vibe is fantastic -- really brings out the color of your eyes -- but the skulking tips you firmly into the realm of, well, somewhat unhinged.”

Geralt only glares at Jaskier, waiting for him to tire himself out, and sets about roasting the fowl.

“Anyway, killing my beloved won’t cure me,” Jaskier continues blithely, “so don’t even think about it. Not all problems can be solved by whacking away at them with those oversized butter knives you carry around.” He settles cross-legged next to the fire with his lute balanced across his knees and strums a few chords.

“Then how?”

Jaskier shrugs, picks out a quick flurry of staccato notes. It is not a melody Geralt has heard Jaskier play before, and with a flash of surprise, Geralt realizes Jaskier is nervous, is using the lute as a shield, seeking a familiar comfort in the midst of an uncomfortable conversation. “The same as any disease: by letting it run its course.”

“You mean to let it kill you.”

“Would you miss me?” Jaskier asks, and he sounds genuinely curious, as though he has no idea how Geralt might answer. “Would you think of me, from time to time? When you have to bathe yourself and can’t quite reach all the parts that ache, you’ll regret showing no thanks when I was there to handle such unpleasantries for you.” Jaskier clicks his tongue. “I can’t bear the thought of you downtrodden with guilt, wishing you had shown me proper appreciation while I was alive. For the sake of sparing you such a depressing fate, I shall fall upon the sword and graciously allow you to shower me with compliments. Go on, Geralt, do your worst.”

“How can you be so nonchalant about your impending death?” Geralt snarls.

Jaskier scoffs. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from you. Geralt, you have, on multiple occasions, willingly waded into the cavernous maw of a selkiemore. You have lost all right to comment on the nonchalance with which I may or may not approach my impending death.”

Geralt shifts uncomfortably. It’s different for him. Every bone in his body, every ounce of blood that flows through his veins, has been intentionally tailored to keep him alive even in the face of certain death. Jaskier, on the other hand, is indescribably fragile. Geralt could break him without expending any conscious thought. Quite a few things could break Jaskier without expending any conscious thought. Including, apparently, Jaskier himself. 

“Besides, this whole conversation is pointless, seeing as I won’t die of this,” Jaskier adds. “Feelings are ephemeral, as you well know, Witcher. These, too, will fade, and the garden in my lungs with them.”

“Then take the treatment. If you mean to cast off your feelings regardless, quicken the process and spare yourself this pain. This uncertainty.”

Jaskier smiles and strums another series of chords. Something about the notes infuses the air with a melancholy that lingers even after the song fades. “A fool’s errand. Have you ever been in love, Geralt?” He doesn’t wait for Geralt to answer. “You would find as many descriptions of love as creatures that have walked this soil. For a cuckolded husband, love is an empty promise, a harbinger of heartache; for the devilishly handsome man climbing out the window, love is sweeter than wine and indescribably more potent. And yet there is one overarching constant, and that is that love burrows into your soul. It builds itself a little house and plants its roots into your heart, until it is so intricately braided into the core of your being that to rip it out would be almost more painful than letting it tear you to shreds in the first place.” He looks up at Geralt, and his smile doesn’t reach his eyes anymore. His fingers dance absently across the strings of his lute, repeating certain sequences once, twice, before tripping into another partial melody. “I would simply be trading one pain for another, don’t you see? It’s as much a part of me as all the rest. And what good is a life without the things that make it worth living?”

Geralt watches him in silence. In Geralt’s experience, the things that make life worth living only carry meaning if one is alive to enjoy them. “No love is worth dying for,” he says finally. 

With a loud gasp, Jaskier clutches his lute to his chest and shoots a scandalized look at Geralt. “He doesn’t mean it, darling,” he croons to the instrument. His eyes flutter shut as he presses his cheek to its neck. “You are worth the world to me. I would face a coven of succubi without fear to keep you free of harm.”

Geralt studies Jaskier: the tension stiffening his shoulders, the way his lips are pursed as though to suppress a cough. After a moment, Geralt decides to allow Jaskier the out. “And where would you find a coven of succubi interested in enticing you?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re a horrible friend, Geralt,” Jaskier comments, but there is no heat in his voice, and his shoulders loosen fractionally. He turns away to litter the ground with more dandelions, and Geralt has an unsettling feeling that he has only acquired more questions in his quest for answers. 

--

Jaskier wakes up with a rasp in his voice and dandelions clustered on either side of his bedroll, evidence of a fitful sleep interrupted by his need to periodically clear his airways of detritus. The yellow blossoms are interspersed with flecks of green from leaves and budding stems that have joined the mix. Geralt frowns at the sight. Despite Jaskier’s protestations, it is clear his disease is worsening. The realization sits uncomfortably in Geralt’s stomach, like days-old meat or sour milk.

They break down camp in companionable silence, with Jaskier pretending his sleeplessness was due to the rough ground and humid air and Geralt pretending he doesn’t see the flecks of blood painting the ground near Jaskier’s lute. Despite the obvious pain Jaskier is in, he acts as though nothing is amiss, and he spends most of the day working on a ballad to commemorate Geralt’s recent victory over a pack of drowners. 

It is easy to let Jaskier’s voice fade into the background as Geralt mulls over what little he has gleaned in the past 24 hours. Desperately in love, Yennefer had said, and yet Jaskier has given no indication of having fallen in love at any point in the past few months; he has not slipped away to engage in any clandestine trysts, nor has he bemoaned the abrupt and dramatic departure of a paramour. He has prattled about fair-haired maidens here and there, but never for long. Certainly never to the extent of suggesting someone had built a home in his soul.

Nonetheless, some such suitor must exist. If the flowers were not evidence enough, Jaskier had all but admitted it when he’d cautioned Geralt -- rather unnecessarily, in Geralt’s opinion -- against violence the night before. 

That must mean, then, that Jaskier is willfully keeping the identity of his beloved secret from Geralt.

The irritation churning in Geralt’s belly grows. Of course Jaskier owes Geralt nothing, not company nor gratitude nor his heart bared upon his sleeve, and it is his right to keep whatever secrets he wishes. But Jaskier has never been one for discretion, has in fact made a point of oversharing and bestowing upon Geralt knowledge he had never asked for, and Geralt doesn’t know how to respond to being locked out by the bard now.

Anger coils tight in Geralt’s chest, leaves the taste of wood ash ground into the backs of his teeth. Would Jaskier have ever told Geralt that he had fallen for someone if Geralt had not seen the flowers tumbling from his lips? Would he have waited until his throat was bloody from the violence of his coughing, until he was gasping for breath between bouquets of dandelions? Or would he have left Geralt to wake up only to find Jaskier cold to the touch, lute cradled delicately in his arms, chest still, a spray of dandelions peeking between his lips-- 

“Oren for your thoughts?” Jaskier says, breaking Geralt out of his reverie. “You’ve been quiet today, Geralt. Quieter than normal. Don’t tell me my melodic stylings have finally wooed you! I appreciate you coming to your senses, of course, but perhaps you could delay that epiphany by a day or two? This unfinished mess of a song is hardly a shining exemplar of my talents. It would be the height of embarrassment to have rendered you speechless with this.”

Maybe Geralt still feels a little wrong-footed by realizing Jaskier is a better actor than Geralt had thought, or maybe it is simply the nature of things that churn in the belly to come rushing back through the mouth, but Geralt blurts out, before he’s quite figured out the rest of what he wants to say, “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Tell you what, exactly?” Jaskier asks slowly, sounding lost. “That the ballad is unfinished? I wouldn’t have thought you needed that made explicit, considering your two very functional ears and all.”

Geralt grunts impatiently. “Your disease,” he says. “You knew what it was from the start. Why did you hide it?”

That hunted expression is back, thinning Jaskier’s lips and hunching his shoulders and sending his gaze skittering sideways. “Because there was nothing to tell,” Jaskier hedges. “I’m simply a fool who has given my heart to another, and now I’m on a quest to retrieve it. It’s not really a team activity, is it?” His lips quirk up in the ghost of a smile.

A shadow passes over his face then, and he holds up a finger, says, “Give me one moment, please,” and disappears into the underbrush just as wretched coughs begin to wrack his body. 

Geralt nudges Roach to a stop and waits. Jaskier emerges some minutes later, breath ragged, a yellow floret clinging to his bottom lip. “What was I saying?” he asks.

Geralt’s eyes are drawn instantly to the splash of yellow, such a stark contrast against the pink of Jaskier’s lips, the piercing blue of Jaskier’s eyes. He is no closer to knowing who has planted dandelions in Jaskier’s lungs, nor why Jaskier is running away from them instead of into their arms, nor what Geralt has done to lose Jaskier’s trust and confidence so thoroughly. But it is becoming glaringly evident that Jaskier doesn’t want to talk about this, least of all with Geralt, and Geralt refuses to push him on the only boundary he has ever set for the sake of slaking Geralt’s own selfish curiosity.

“Hmm,” he says after a moment, instead of what if you’re wrong, instead of what if you fail, and he pushes Roach forward so he won’t have to see Jaskier spitting blood into his handkerchief. 

--

Moonlight illuminates the planes of Jaskier’s face, highlights the bridge of his nose and the expanse of his forehead peeking out from beneath messy night-blackened locks. The fire has died down to a pile of glowing embers littered with the bones of their dinner, and in the distance, Geralt can hear a coyote calling. Geralt can hear a great many things, actually, even without having consumed the appropriate potion: the rhythmic chirping of crickets permeating every inch of the night, the whisper of wind rushing through the foliage, the way Jaskier’s breath rattles in his chest.

He traces Jaskier’s recumbent figure with his eyes and wonders how long Jaskier will be able to sleep tonight before the need to breathe wrenches him awake. Nearly every blossom passing through his lips now is anchored to a stem, though the stems extend only a few centimeters before tapering to jagged ends sticky with sap. Even without knowing when Jaskier first started coughing up dandelion petals, Geralt can see that Jaskier doesn’t have much time left, but the nearest town is still a day’s ride away, and a longer journey by foot.

Getting Jaskier to a healer quickly won’t matter, though, if Jaskier refuses the treatment anyway. Jaskier seems hellbent on throwing his life away, and for what? The thrill of butterflies in his stomach? Some poetic notion of embodying the same grandeur he romanticizes in his songs? 

Respect may not make history, but dead bards tell no tales. Or something like that. Geralt has never been good with words, not like Jaskier. 

That’s why Jaskier was the one to finally rehabilitate Geralt’s reputation, after all, and that, too, with only a single song. Geralt has no doubt he would have spent his whole life trying unsuccessfully to outrun the shadow Blaviken had cast upon him had Jaskier not chanced upon him in Posada. It is Jaskier who can sway whole courts in his favor while Geralt stands aside and watches, Jaskier whose coin pays for rooms in inns and bath salts and new clothes. Jaskier is the one with the ability to grasp at straws and spin golden tales from them. 

It is not a talent Geralt has ever wanted -- silence is a powerful weapon in its own right -- but it is one he has come to appreciate. He cannot deny it is easier to rend a wyvern in half when he has the prospect of a warm bath to look forward to, and Jaskier’s gentle hands washing the grime from his hair besides. It is easier to stomach three nights of tasteless wild game when he knows Jaskier’s songs will earn them flagons of mulled ale at the next tavern. It is easier to shrug away the insults still occasionally hurled his way, the fear and disgust that so often paint the faces of the very people who hire him, when he has only to look to Jaskier to find admiration and fascination and laughter and--

“Ah,” says Geralt, realizing quite suddenly that there is a warmth in his chest, as though someone has snuck into his heart and built a home there, a crooked little thing with a furnace that heats him through to his core. Somewhere along the way, Jaskier has woven himself indelibly into the tapestry of Geralt’s life, and the thought of untangling their threads no longer fills Geralt with the relief it once did. 

And then-- “Fuck,” says Geralt, remembering that Jaskier is desperately in love with someone who isn’t Geralt, so deeply that he is willing to die for them. Come morning, they will both be coughing up flowers, side by side. And isn’t that disgustingly poetic, to offer a garden to someone who already has one growing in his lungs? The both of them hurt, both of them hurting, wanting and unwanted, together and yet both so utterly alone. 

The story of Geralt’s life: It’s like something out of one of Jaskier’s ballads.

--

Geralt awakens to Jaskier’s face blocking his field of vision. Jaskier’s eyes are wide, his lips slightly parted. It is a rare sight, as Jaskier has never been one to relinquish the comfort of a lazy morning without incentive, and Geralt immediately fears the worst. His gaze flies to Jaskier’s bedroll, where he prays he won’t yet see the long stems that signify the final stages of the disease. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t. 

In fact, he doesn’t see any flowers at all, only a handful of loose yellow florets scattered upon the ground, occasionally being shuffled about by the light morning breeze. 

“If you change your mind,” Jaskier says shakily, drawing Geralt’s attention back to him, “I’ll kill you. Not only for breaking my heart twice over, but for sentencing me to death by dandelion, of all the blasted flowers on the Continent. Do you know how few things rhyme with dandelion? I couldn’t have had roses or lilies or sage growing in my lungs, just waiting to be immortalized in song?”

“If I change my mind, I’ll give you the sword myself,” Geralt tells Jaskier, and drags him into a kiss that tastes of dandelion and desperation and something worth dying for. 

[jimmymcgools]

Idk if you’re still doing the fic meme but would love to hear your commentary on the afternoon scene at white sands!

i definitely am! ♥️♥️♥️ and so excited to get to talk about white sands. this turned into an extra long one, too, so brace yourself.  

fic commentary meme and my answers 🙌

this whole afternoon i’ve been trying to remember how i picked white sands. it must’ve been looking through photos of new mexico on tumblr? i can’t think of any fun origin story for it at least, and i definitely had no idea that it’d end up being such a turning point in the story. white sands! it stands in for so much now.  

He realizes that the haze he saw from afar was actually the white sand of the dunes, picked up by the wind and left hanging in the air like a fine fog. this specific detail is something i noticed on google streetview more than any photos 

so hazy!

The artwork in the visitor’s center had depicted mammoths and giant sloths in the grasslands around the lake, lush and vibrant. there’s a bunch of those streetview bubble things actually inside the white sands visitor’s center, so i snooped around in there. zooming in and reading all the info boards like a tragic version of a real tourist. 

It’s finer than any sand he’s ever felt—more like flour than anything, and it’s completely cool to the touch despite the afternoon sun.  i really wanted to capture the tactile feeling of being in this place, and luckily a bunch of tripadvisor reviews had described the feeling of the sand well enough that i could give it my best shot! 

“So I guess there used to be a big lake here,” Kim says, staring out over the edge of the dune. alternate take: kim and jimmy visit camp green lake and dig holes every day and eat raw onions. 

He wiggles his bare toes in the sand. “Fists with your toes,” he says. Kim chuckles. “Better than a shower and a cup of coffee.” kim and jimmy the movie nerds! jimmy probably should’ve done this as soon as he landed in abq, huh? at least he’s doing it now. the secret to surviving.  

“I wonder if Chuck’s ever been out here,” he says gonna go ahead and make that a definite “no”, jimbo. 

The first time I was just dumb and eighteen,” Jimmy says. “I was off and on with her all through high school ahh the infamous marriages. i wanted to preserve the vibes of like, stupid romantic-at-heart jimmy, especially because by now i had settled pretty firmly into an acb jimmy who looks at kim wistfully like 😍24/7, so i needed continuity with that. i think i actually included them in the cicero chapter, but “mr and mrs kimberly wexler” “do you make 25 foot signs? no!?” legal pad boy 100% seems like someone who was filling notebooks with a girl’s name in high school. 

i like the idea that he did some dumb, grand, drunken, romantic gesture while they’re all cutting loose in vegas. something that doesn’t look nearly as cool as he thinks it does.  

i have a little timeline for jimmy’s life, and so i knew that i could sync this marriage up with roughly the era his father loses the store and then dies. i liked the idea that this and other circumstantial changes happened and the teenaged relationship just couldn’t weather it. 

“College of DuPage,” Jimmy says, and he holds up his fist. “Go Chaps!” jimmy’s college years!! this is so interesting to me! did someone in his family really encourage this? was this an earlier attempt to get on the straight and narrow? all food for thought. either way, he didn’t go far from home, unlike chuck. 

Me and Lisa…we were pretty good. For a long time. She did theater jimmy should’ve just been a theater kid. get in a spotlight, get those eyeballs on him.  

“And the worst part is, I introduced them! Because he was dating Mom,” Jimmy spits i think i saw someone else use this somewhere, and i wish i could remember who, but as a way to tie in the step-dad thing from brba it appealed to me. i think ruth has that same playful/theatrical side to her as jimmy, so i liked that connection here, too. also it’s just so horrible and dividing

She folds her lips inwards and studies him, then tilts her head and gives a little smile. “I can’t believe you’re telling me this in your stupid sombrero hat.”  i hadn’t planned this at all when i had jimmy buy the dumb hat in the last chapter, but it ended up working well -- kim deflecting from the serious moment with some lively hat talk, jimmy loves hat talk, the perfect distraction

The white sands seem almost to reflect it, becoming nacreous with pink and yellow and orange, taking on the color of the world above.  as a little metaphor for jimmy, here. he’s just reflecting everyone around him. 

The brim of the hat casts a diagonal stripe of blue shadow over her face. ahaha oh god i had forgotten i’d included this sledgehammer-subtle parking garage scene reference

“I’m not ashamed of being from there,” Kim says crisply. She shakes her head as if to shake that thought of her mind. “Not at all. But I wanted a blank slate. i always go into writing a scene like this planning for her to reveal more than she does, but it never feels believable. but i wanted to make that distinction between her hiding red cloud and her being ashamed of where she was born. i don’t think it makes sense for kim to be the latter. 

“I guess they just wanted somebody to listen to them. But it bugged me. Like they expected me to fix the weather for for them, too, in between bagging their groceries.” this seems like a very kim trait to me. that rather than just listening and nodding along to these farmer’s chatty complaints, she feels like it’s on her to fix everything, when of course it isn’t, and i doubt any of these customers would expect it to be.   “There was a time when I thought I could get married,” she says. “It even seemed almost inevitable. Like getting wound up so tight and then released on a path. i think it was a friend who made this connection, but imo kim does this in bcs too. especially when you think about her career path at HHM and how it’s going in s1/s2, or her time with mesa verde. to her credit, she breaks off the rails eventually in those situations, but she does seem to ride these tracks long past the point when it’s clear she’s not on a good route. i guess you could say that about her relationship with jimmy, too? depending on how fatalistic (and maybe reductive?) you want to be. 

The sky around it glows amber. West, he thinks. “But you weren’t stuck in Red Cloud,” he says.   and kennedy’s head faces west, faces the future.  

he pauses for a moment, eyes drawn to the long shadows cast backward by the two of them, rippling over the white dunes. They stretch away so far they seem to vanish before they end.  something about this image seems perfect for the two of them. maybe that’s just the dumb jimmy romantic in me talking. kim and jimmy’s shadows dipping over the curve of the dunes, out of sight, before they end. 

hell, this got LONG! i’ll end with this quote i took a screenshot of in the visitor’s center. better call saul, anybody?