#and who knows maybe she’ll surprise me. she seems to be going through an arc of finding honor and the importance of family

[zeb-z]

I’ve got several bones to pick with the latest decisions of the Armorer and Bo Katan this last episode - one of them being how ridiculous it is that she can remove her helmet and walk both ways, but Din, rightful Mand’Alor, is an apostate for the same crime under dire circumstances, and went through hell to redeem himself - and it all comes back around to the hypocrisy.

Bo Katan is told she can remove her helmet, walk both ways, unite the Mandalorians. She is quite clearly the worst possible candidate for this. This isn’t an attack on her character in particular, she’s proven herself these last few episodes to have some care and honor.

In the beginning of the season, she said it herself, how the rest of the Mandos she had gathered had left her because she did not have the dark saber. She had given up because of this, changing her mind on a lot of beliefs because of this. Why would they follow her now? Why wouldn’t she even mention such an obstacle?

I think that now she feels empowered again. Now she has more of a basis to lead, with a mission from someone as important as a Mandalorian Armorer. She can unite her people now that it’s convenient. And there’s certainly some character development after she has seen the mythosaur and spent some time with the Watch - and I’m sure more to come - that she feels some sort of obligation and loyalty, I hope.

It’s similar to the Armorer and her decisions on what is acceptable and what is not in terms of the creed. What redemption is impossible, or not even needed - based off of convenience. She had let Bo Katan in knowing she did not willingly walk the Way. Knowing that her bathing in the waters wasn’t purposeful but a technicality, not even bothering to find out if she respects or follows any of the other tenants that seem just a little more important - yknow, the care for foundlings and all that?

Yes, Bo Katan proves herself later on - but not at first acceptance. The scene where she’s welcomed screams of cult tactics is all I am saying, which I might bring up in another post because there is a lot to unpack there. The point is that if this creed is law, and you start making exceptions, where is the line drawn after? Why is it alright for newcomer Bo Katan to be the exception to maybe find more Mandalorians, but Din wasn’t forgiven for considering his foundling more important in the order of tenants? What does it mean for the rest of them to now follow this creed, when it isn’t so strict in its honor?

It’s just. The hypocrisy of it all. Bo Katan, barely upgraded from outsider to Mando in the Watch’s eyes, getting the pass to take off her helmet because she’s walked both ways while anyone else would be shunned and exiled, given a task for redemption that is impossible in their eyes to complete. It is impossible for anyone else to have walked both ways, sans Din. And Bo Katan willingly upholding this duty so soon after she threw fits about how these same people fractured the Mandalorians, how it’s their fault they are all scattered. After the rest of the Mando’s had left her because she doesn’t have the dark saber.

Not to discredit what character development that Bo Katan has seemingly gone through, but past patterns only go to show that this will not last. It reads like just another quick turn around of her beliefs and morals.

[sarah-yyy]

what: period cdrama // 40 eps, roughly 55 mins each  where: youku (you can also dl the app) // youtube // coming up soon on viki (usual disclaimer that i do not use eng subs so i don’t speak to the quality of subs) why: do you love watching a poor little meow-meow get tortured in a variety of ways before he decides to go fuck it, i’ll be a demon lord and kill everyone who wronged me?? do you like enemies to fated to kill you lovers??? do you enjoy PAIN AND SUFFERING??? this is the show for you

meet tantai jin, the cdrama fandom’s newest obsession 

cursed prince of the Jing kingdom who was sent as a hostage to a neighbouring kingdom. he’s been unloved and bullied all his life - think, discarded and left to die by his own father, kicked around by servants, begging for scraps of food, abandoned and slowly betrayed by everyone around him... it’s NOT GOOD buddies, you will watch his life unfold and you will become attached and want to let him do whatever the fuck he wants 

surprise surprise this sad pathetic man will one day become

THE demon lord who destroys all of humanity etc etc. look at this wardrobe upgrade??? amazing. beautiful. bad for humanity but great for him. good job, bud, you did well.

ANYWAY this show opens with demon lord tantai jin (affectionate) going on his lil’ murder spree (understandable). the fate of humanity as we know it to be rests on the shoulders of one li susu

to defeat tantai jin, she will transmigrate to the past into the body of ye xiwu (tantai jin’s evil wife who whips him every night (not in the fun way sorry buds) and tortures/bullies him for because it pleases her) to try to kill him while he’s weak, before he turns evil and amasses power. this is for the good of humanity!!! but also he’s truly so pathetic in the past that she can’t quite seem to put her heart into it (there’s also this whole finding his evil bone and getting rid of that before she can kill him problem but HMMM) and decides that?? maybe if she shows him some care and love??? she’ll subvert his murdermurdermurder tendencies????

this is the gist of the show!! there are a few arcs that we go through like all good xianxia cdramas, so we get to see them live through a few different lives (think: ten miles of peach blossom, pillow book etc etc), and every single dynamic between them is SO GOOD!!!!! we have spicy enemies to lovers!! cutesy arranged marriage between strangers to lovers (who don’t communicate enough for them to be happy)!!! star-crossed lovers fated to kill one another!!! 

the show is so goddamn pretty!! the aesthetics!!! the cgi!!!! the costumes ohmygod, i have never wanted to buy so many headdresses before

LOOK AT THIS!!! HOW PRETTY WAS THIS!!!!

he’s got this whole demon look LOCKED IN who else does it as well as my boy tantai jin

this show is very PRETTY but make no mistake there will be a lot of angst!!! that’s part of what makes it so good!! luo yunxi does Tortured, Feral and Deranged™ SO WELL i weep every time i see him on screen, i have truly not been Okay since this show started airing, buddies please join me in till the end of the moon hell, you will not regret it, promise 😇✨

⚠❗ few post-finale thoughts so y’all go into it with full disclosure (and can’t yell at me for inflicting pain on y’all, just know what i am also Suffering™) - stop reading from here if you want no spoilers for the show at all. 

trigger warning: there is some dubcon in ep 14 (stretches between approx. the 25:00-27:25 min mark) between ming ye and sang jiu 

we were all hoping for a happy ending, but this ends on a bad-open scale, depending on how you look at it. @minmoyu​ has helpfully directed me to a happy audio-epilogue which was apparently shot but didn’t make its way into the episode?? we still dk if the footage will be released as an extra?? we can all form a prayer circle and HOPE i guess

the plot is HMM the further to the end we get, probably because they had to cut the eps down, so it’s a little choppy, esp the last few scenes??? idk idk. it’s a bit exhausting to watch towards the end, because you root for ttj so so much and he tries so so hard and SIGH. i need another few working days to digest this, i’m still a bit :/ about the ending

would i still rec the show, post-watch? yes! this show starts off really solid, and luo yunxi carried the show throughout. like. y’all thought lyx was good in ashes of love?? watch him in this. every single micro-expression was flawless. bai lu’s acting is always so dependable, and it’s the same with this show!  

this show has an a+++ ost (i mean it’s got the king and queen of cdrama osts liu yuning and zhang bichen, literally how could this be bad)!! and CERTAIN side characters are so so good (pian ran my baby girl, ye qingyu who grows on you, decidedly NOT bingchang/tian huan/mo nv although i will concede that chen duling’s acting in this show was Incredible). 

[the-littlest-goblin]

*shows up to @essek-week 6 days late with all the prompts shoved into one fic*

based on this post by @slayerscake​

___________________________________________________________

Essek, for all his magical skill, had very little experience being a fighter. But you pick things up when you travel with a group that gets in as many scrapes per day as the Mighty Nein—you don’t necessarily learn how to fight well, but you certainly learn how to fight alongside the Mighty Nein.

While Jester is a cleric, try to go unconscious near Caduceus. 

“It’s not that she refuses to heal,” Fjord explained gently as he inspected the gash across Essek’s sternum for signs of poison. They were all a bit paranoid now since discovering that their previous monster encounter had, unbeknownst to them, injected a slow-acting venom into every bite. “She just prefers to take the enemy out first. It’s a strategy thing, you know. Save the healing for after the fight, once the danger’s gone.”

Essek turned his gaze over to Jester. In their post-battle huddle, while Caduceus hummed a healing prayer for the group and Fjord dressed Essek’s wound, she was several yards away helping Veth saw off one of the beast’s talons as a trophy.

 Fjord continued, “Of course, if you’re like, actually dying in front of her, she’ll heal you. I mean…” he trailed off. Sure, Essek hadn’t exactly been dead-dead when he’d collapsed next to Jester during the fight, but he wasn’t far from it. The last, ironic thought he’d registered before consciousness slipped away was how fortunate it was to fall in battle right next to a cleric. As his eyes fell shut, it was with anticipation that he would be up again in a second to rejoin the fray. 

When he had finally awoken, it was Caduceus’ face smiling over him, not Jester’s, and the ferocious monster had long since been turned into a carcass.

“Mm-hmm.”

Fjord sighed and sat back on his heels. “Just, maybe next time, if you have to go down, try to go down closer to Caduceus.”

“Noted,” Essek grumbled, watching with nauseated fascination as his skin knit itself back together in time with the melody of Caduceus’ spell.

When in doubt, polymorph.

“I am a bit surprised you don’t already have this in your repertoire. I have found it to be incredibly useful.”

Essek shrugged, shoving off the automatic sting of embarrassment that came with admitting ignorance. He didn’t need to feel that way around Caleb.

“Well, I have rarely found myself in a position to fly over rough terrain or transform a terrifying monster into a sloth. Until now, that is.” 

Caleb laughed lightly. “Such is the adventuring life, I suppose.” He smiled, taking a break from flipping through his spellbook to look up at Essek. Even this brief moment of eye-contact felt so charged with energy that Essek had to avert his gaze, the sense-memory of guilt welling up in his throat threatening to choke him. The intensity of Caleb’s undivided attention was still difficult for him to bear. His fingers twitched to rub at the burning spot on his forehead. Instead, he gripped his pen tighter. 

“Here.” Caleb flipped his book around to show Essek the page dedicated to the Polymorph spell, covered in transmutation runes. Essek recognized a few of the symbols in passing. “This should be easy for you to copy down. Then we can practice a bit. I think you’ll find casting it on yourself makes for a rather enjoyable pastime.”

Buff the lesbians. 

Essek’s eyes darted between Caleb and Caduceus, unsure how to interpret this piece of advice. “Um, can you be more specific?” 

Caduceus blinked at him, seeming confused. “Specific how? You mean like, which spells you should use on them?”

“No, I meant specific as in to whom you were referring. I just…” Essek glanced awkwardly around the table. Most of the group was distracted, digging into the enormous feast provided by Caleb’s clowder of feline servants. They were all worn out from a long day of hard travel and enjoying the warm reprieve of the tower.

Essek cleared his throat, trying to discreetly lower his voice without making it obvious that he was being secretive. “I have not exactly been given a briefing on all of your individual sexual preferences.”

“Oh, I can fix that!” Jester cut in. Apparently Essek’s attempts to be clandestine had failed, as they always seemed to with this group. “Caleb is—”

“That is alright, thank you,” Essek swiftly cut her off. His cheeks were already burning red-hot. “Can you please just tell me who ‘the lesbians’ are in this circumstance?”

He could feel Beau’s glare boring through him all the way from the other end of the table as she stared incredulously over her magical flask of whiskey. “You should really be able to figure that out yourself, man.”

Squishy wizards stay away from fights.

“Stay. Here.” Yasha’s growl was twice as terrifying as the insectoid beast screaming over their heads, and Essek was pretty sure the force from her shoving him behind the rocks was going to leave just as big a bruise as getting smacked by the creature’s tail, if not bigger. “Hide.”

“I was trying to help,” Essek muttered, a mixture of shame and indignation pushing him to defend himself to her.

“I know. You can help by staying alive.” A hint of softness entered Yasha’s gruff voice, although its effect was mitigated when she hefted up her massive sword. Essek instinctually slunk away from the arc of the blade. “Fighters get close, wizards hang back. That’s how we do things in this family.” She smiled at him, and another layer of the ice around Essek’s heart melted. “That’s how we keep you and Caleb from snapping like twigs. Save the close-range spells for when things are really desperate.”

Essek nodded his affirmation. Yasha turned and began running back into the melee, letting out an almighty roar. Just before she went out of range, Essek reached out his hands, whispering the incantation and twisting his fingers around the fabric of time that surrounded her large frame. Yasha paused for a moment as the effects of the Haste spell hit her, then turned to flash Essek another smile and a thumbs up.

That’s how we do things in this family.

You have to look sexy when using spells.

“I really do not understand the purpose of this.”

“We’re just trying to help you out!” Veth grinned at him mischievously. Somehow, the ghost of a goblin’s snarl showed through her straight halfling teeth. “Every good adventurer knows aesthetics are crucial to effective spellcasting.”

“That’s not—”

“Plus, we’re not fighting in the cold anymore,” Jester added. “We don’t want you to get overheated in the middle of battle.”

“That… really isn’t an issue.” But he knew resistance was useless when it came to these two. Resigned to his fate, Essek dutifully lifted the mantle over his head and began undoing the fastenings of his cloak. 

Outer layer discarded, he lifted his arms up half heartedly to show his self-appointed image consultants the results. “Is this satisfactory?”

“Hmmmm,” Jester tilted her head to the side, considering him. “Can you try rolling up your sleeves?”

“I’m not taking off my shirt!”

“No one asked you to!” Veth hopped off her chair to circle around Essek, studying him with an intensity she usually reserved for things she was about to shoot. “Now, show us your stance.”

“My what?”

“You know, your sexy fighting stance.” Veth stopped in place, whipping out her crossbow and striking a dramatic pose. 

“Um…” Essek attempted to mimic her, one hand on the meteorite pendant that served as his arcane focus, the other reaching out as if he were about to cast a spell. “Like this?”

Jester tapped a finger to her lips thoughtfully. “You know, now that I’m thinking about it, that tank top did look really good on you, Essek.”

Essek put his head in his hands.

If you get charmed there is going to be a very high chance of Beau punching you to snap you out of it. 

A constellation's worth of stars swam in Essek’s vision, pain bursting through his head like a reverberating drum; he could feel the nasty bruise blooming at his temple where Beauregard had struck him. Blinking away the stars, he turned just in time to see Beau’s fist heading towards him once again, this time making expert contact with his jaw. The force of this second blow sent him hurtling toward the ground, knocking the wind out of him. 

Amid the pain, a sense of clarity slowly came over him, cutting through the pleasant, misty haze that had overtaken his faculties. It gave him just enough presence of mind to scream an indignant, accusatory, “Ow!” at Beau.

She flashed him a cocky grin, seemingly amused by his tone. “Look man, this is what happens. Get charmed, get hit. Now square up.” 

Essek held up one hand in an attempt to stave her off, gasping for breath. The buzz in his brain was receding; somehow, Beau had punched the spell’s effect right out of him. “No really, I’m fine now, it worked—”

But she was already going in for another punch. Helpless to stop her, Essek braced himself for the hit, thinking that if nothing else, he had to admire her thoroughness. 

[the-passenger-if]

one of my favorite angst tropes is someone breaking up with their partner in order to keep them safe! how would the ros handle this if newman did this to them? (also, would any of the ro’s break up with newman to keep them safe?)

combining it with

How would the ROs react to Newman who just texts them out of nowhere and the message just say "I love you always bye sorry" as if Newman was in a hurry and no matter how hard they try to contact them, no one picks up.

also

some angST!! How would the ROs react to Newman breaking up with them after being together for a looooong time?

and

ROs reaction to Newman wanting to break up with them after a while of being together?

Jonny and Horizon would break up with Newman to keep them safe. Fiama knows she can keep both of them safe, and Roach will do their best but if they have to die then they will die together xD

Combining Newman just up and disappears one day with Newman breaks up with RO after being together for a long time.

Long angsty scenarios under the cut.

“Mommy… kisses me… on the… cheek. Cheek. Cheek, Bruno. Listen, cheeeek. That’s chek.”

Bruno mutters the word ‘cheek’ under his breath a few times before adding another ‘e’ just on top of the first one.

“No,” Fiama tells him. “Erase the word and rewrite it. Well this time.”

Her son scowls but he does as he’s told. His round eyes slip away from the exercise book to the front door and stay there.

“Bruno,” she calls him. “Bruno.” He looks at her, and she knows. She just knows what he’s thinking about. Who he’s thinking about. “Cheek.” She points at the book.

He writes down the word very slowly and forcefully on the page. She still can read the wrong word under it, but she decides to let it go.

“The chick eats corn,” Fiama continues, “The… chick… Chick, Bruno.”

He bites his lower lip, staring at her.

“Remember the chicks? Grandpa took you to see them…”

Bruno mutters ‘chick’ under his breath a couple of times, then his eyes go to the front door again.

“Bruno,” and she doesn’t want to lose her patience like this, but she’s tired and she wants to… she doesn’t know what she wants to do yet, but doing homework in the living room with a very distracted Bruno isn’t it.

Her boy scowls at her, pencil shaking in a tiny angry fist. He opens his mouth to retort when someone knocks on the door. His eyes widen, the scowl vanishes. He jumps off the chair, homework and pencil and Fiama completely forgotten.

“Bruno!” she calls out, but he’s already dashing to the door and yanking it open.

“Oh! Hi there, rabbit,” Fiama’s mother says.

“No!” Bruno replies trying to close the door again.

That’s when Fiama stands up and grabs him by the arm. “Don’t you shut the door in your grandma’s face!”

“Don’t you grab him like that!” her mother yells at her, and she lets go of Bruno as if he was a hot iron.

“Why are you here?” Bruno screams at Fiama’s mother. “I wanted it to be them!”

“Bruno!” Fiama scolds.

“No!” her boy yells at her. “This is your fault! You did this!” Then he’s running off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Fiama isn’t the type to care about metaphors, but right now she completely understands what people mean when they say 'it felt like a bucket of cold water'.

The one that breaks the silence is her mother. “Well, didn’t I tell you this would happen?”

“Not now, mom.” Fiama grits out.

“Let us hope it doesn’t affect Bruno too much…”

“I said not now.” The glare she sends her mother’s way is enough for the woman to shake her head and turn away.

Fiama closes the door very carefully, and then rests her back against it, scowl set on the table where Bruno’s homework was left unfinished. A thought like a flash; the table toppling over, books and pencils, and the ceramic fruit basket flying in the air. It passes quickly. Fiama is taking slow deep breaths. She still remembers what happened the last time she let her emotions get the best of her. That familiar wave of shame and guilt washes over her as she remembers Bruno’s stunned silence when he found her sobbing in her room, sat in the midst of broken pieces of whatever she had lying about in there.

A single tear rolls down her cheek, one Fiama swiftly washes away. She promises herself this is the last she’ll ever waste on them.

---

There's one lonely cloud floating in the blue sky and Jonny's eyes have been following its snail-like march for the last ten minutes or so. His neck is starting to feel stiff but he doesn't shift his position; watching the lazy parade happening outside of his window has kept his mind in silence. Sweet, sweet silence.

It isn’t surprising that it doesn’t last. Somebody is knocking on his bedroom door and Jonny really doesn't have the energy for this. He closes his eyes shut, focuses on the inverted shadow cloud burned in his tired retina. The door clicks open and he keeps still on his bed, chest barely moving. It's childish, he knows this, but it's the only thing that seems to keep Joaquin and Lucia from asking how he's doing or commenting about his love life, or even worse, trying to give him advice.

The visitor lingers there where they stand for another moment, before closing the door again. Jonny thinks he’s been left alone to go back to what apparently has become his favorite hobby as of late, when he hears approaching footsteps.

“I know you’re awake.”

“Don’t tell me they called you,” he says in a drawl, opening his eyes and fixing them on the man sitting on the bed across from his. Quino has the same green eyes, straight nose, and wavy brown hair Jonny has, however, his twin chooses to wear it shorter and well out of his face. He is, after all, the good-looking one.

“They didn’t,” Quino assures him with a conciliatory smile. Jonny’s skepticism must be written all over his face because his brother crosses his heart and shrugs.

“Why are you here?” Jonny knows why, but he also knows Quino too well and his twin has never been the type to start awkward conversations unless Jonny opens that door for him first.

“Do I need a reason? Can’t I—?”

“They broke up with me,” Jonny cuts him off, “I’m feeling like shit, I just want to sleep until I forget I ever met them, but every time people ask about it I think about them, and every time they tell me ‘it will pass’, and that I’ll ‘find someone new’ I just want to jump in front of a car.” Quino doesn’t say anything, he just nods while picking at his nails. Jonny rolls on his back, stares at the ceiling. “I know I’m way too old to be acting like this, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“You aren’t too old to feel like shit, Jonny. You loved them, and they left you. It’s completely understandable.”

He presses his lips together. He did love them. He does love them still. Stupid, so stupid.

“If you want to cry—“

“Screw off.”

“Not in front of me, heaven forbid,” Quino says with mock horror, “but you should cry sometimes. Crying is good for you, you know?”

Maybe it is, Jonny guesses, but he might have cried himself dry the night Newman broke up with him over the phone. Over the fucking phone, of fucking course. He rubs at his dry eyes. He doesn’t want to think about that. “Yeah,” he mutters.

The silence stretches until Quino clears his throat. “So, do you want to know why I’m here or not?”

Jonny turns his head and then frowns at the tickets in his brother’s hand. He blinks twice, recognizing the iconic font printed on them at once. He sits up an instant later. “You’re shitting me.”

“No, I’m inviting you to see Metallica in Columbia.”

“Their last two albums suck,” Jonny says, yet he still takes the ticket from Quino’s hand.

“What doesn’t?” his twin asks with a laugh, and this time Jonny can feel himself smile.

---

One of the humans is awake. Shit. Roach thought they had at least another hour or two, now they’ll have to deal with them and their overfamiliarity and their hands and their faces.

The stub between their lips trembles and they realize it has gone out. They take it, frown at it and then flick it off. It flies in an arc, landing among its dozen of dead brothers. Roach knows at least ten of those are theirs—not that the parking lot of this dingy motel could look any worse by having more dead cigs lying about.

They look for their smokes in the denim jacket they are wearing—a gift from a trucker with a tendency to comment on people’s appearances and leave his jacket behind when going to the restroom—and almost drop the entire pack when the door at their left opens.

“Those things will kill you,” says the woman coming out of their shared motel room.

“Life is killing me,” Roach replies without missing a beat, but they don’t smile; she won’t see their face anyway, not when the sun has yet to come out, and the only lightbulb over their head suddenly burned out.

“Do you have another one?”

She comes to sit next to them on the bench and Roach doesn’t need light to see the deep crow's feet at the corner of her eyes and the dark circles under them. Their conquests always look immensely better under synthetic lighting, once outside, once they’ve used one another, it’s like the spell breaks.

Roach holds two cigs between their lips and lights them with practiced ease. They offer one to their broken Juliette. It’s the least they can do; they do remember biting her hard at some point in the middle of their sexcapade… or maybe they bit one of the others, they aren’t sure anymore.

She accepts it with a thanks and takes a long drag. She sighs out the smoke, peers at Roach as if she could somehow pierce through the shadows and take a good look at them. “You are young, darling,” she croaks out. “Way too young to be doing this shit.”

“Smoking?” Roach asks innocently. Words read out from a script, tone sweet, face immobile. The face of a ghost really, one that haunts and judges them.

The woman shakes her head and then points with her thumb at the room behind them. “I bet you aren’t even thirty yet.” She tilts her head at them, eyes narrowing and still trying to see. “Whatever happened to you… you can opt out. It isn’t easy, but you can move on, you can leave your old self behind. It’s never too late…” A coughing fit interrupts her fortune cookie monologue, and Roach is super ready to skedaddle now.

They stand up, rub their hands together. “Speaking of,” they exclaim with fake enthusiasm, “I should hit the road now. It was a pleasure, really,” they add just as if they were wrapping a 5-cents bow around used pair of socks. Here, happy birthday.

Roach jogs off before she can add anything else.

“Hag,” they mutter around their cigarette. They stop as they catch a glimpse of their reflection in the window of a stripped car. The face scowling at them is silently judging them for stealing it and then using it to lure in humans. “It’s poetic, ok?” Roach explains with a tense grin. “You fucked me over so this is my way to return the favor, pet.” The reflection doesn’t reply, but Roach doesn’t care. They don’t care. They never cared, actually. Who said they ever did?

---

Slow, deep breaths. Inhale, one… two… three… four. Exhale, one… two… three… four… five… six…

Horizon opens their eyes. They are crouched in front of the ceremonial pitcher. Looking down at their reflection in the water makes something like a thumb-size metal ball roll in the back of their skull. They wince in pain and lose whatever little balance they had before. Horizon doesn’t yelp when they fall back on their ass; the sudden waves of nausea coming up like lava inside a volcano could turn a bad situation into a nightmarish one at the flip of a hat.

“Ah,” they whine in a whisper, “if there truly is anything out there, up there, or around, please make it stop.” They run a hand down their face, suppress a fiery belch.

They blindly look for the pitcher and submerge their other hand in the cold water. Dominus Dove and Domina Basil would blanch in horror and anger, but right now, this is the best Horizon has felt since Velour dragged them out of bed, wrapped their robes around them, and pushed them into their office.

Running wet, cold fingers through their messy hair is the best feeling in the world, so they continue this little ritual for a while… and another while… and a little longer…

The door opens just a crack and Horizon’s gaze jumps to Velour’s so fast that the metal ball comes back with a vengeance. An arrow piercing their brain back to front.

“Ahh!”

“This isn’t happening,” Velour hisses as they slink into the room and close the door behind them. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

“This isn’t happening,” Horizon mutters trying to smile through the pain. They open their eyes to find a very frowny, very serious Velour staring down at them. The smile slips off their face like a slug going down the drain. “I’m so sorry, Velour.”

“As you should,” they reply coldly, and Horizon wants to cry because there’s so much more to their tone than just scorn; they are truly disappointed and they have all the right to be.

“I’m a mess,” the words sound strained to Horizon’s ears, and they can feel new tears threatening to spill down their face again.

Velour’s jaw tightens before they crouch down shaking their head. “You are drunk,” they whisper in a mellow way. “And we can’t let anyone know that.”

“No, we can’t.”

“Alright, I’ll tell them you are indisposed. Wait here, and please, stop playing with the sacred water, Domini.”

Horizon can feel themself blushing in embarrassment, but they nod nonetheless and almost don’t wince when the metal ball ricochets around their skull.

Velour steps out of the room, their voice booming in the cabin, “Domini Horizon has fallen ill with a fever. Today’s prayers will be under my supervision.”

“Are they ok?” somebody asks.

“Yes, but they are very tired and would appreciate being left alone in their cabin. Any concerns or questions you have can be brought to me.”

Efficiently, they march into the office again. “Lean on me, Domini,” they instruct and Horizon does as they say. A few moments later, The Domini is back on their feet and being herded out of the office and through the cabin. They keep their head down, letting their hair cover their face.

“Poor Domini,” another person loud-whispers, “they are drenched in sweat.”

Next to them, Velour tenses up, but they don’t let their discomfort show in any other way.

Once in Horizon’s cabin, their assistant sits them on the bed and fetches them a glass of water.

“They aren’t worth any of this, Domini,” Velour says, and Horizon keeps still, lips barely touching the water. They look up at their assistant but say nothing. “That’s all I wanted to say, and that’s all I’ll say on the subject.”

Horizon puts down the glass on their lap, both hands holding it still. They lower their gaze before softly replying, “Noted.”

Velour makes to leave. They open the door before saying over their shoulder, “And stop drinking. If I come back to find you drunk again, I swear I’m leaving. For real this time.”

Horizon nods slowly, and doesn’t look up until Velour closes the door behind them. Once they are out, the Domini puts the glass down, next to the bed, carefully lies down, and lets the ugly sobs come gushing out of them like muddy water from a broken levee.

[noneatnonedotcom]

Dark rwby smut:

Raven has Yang and Weiss hostage and won’t release them. It’s up to Jaune to challenge the bandit leader for the sake of his friend’s freedom.

A knight strode into a bandit camp with purpose.

It sounds like the start of a grand story, some fairytale you’d tell children before bed.

The truth was very different. Jaune Arc had long since abandoned the ideals of heroism. But there was one idea he held onto even now.

An Arc always kept his word.

That’s why he was doing this, he’d sworn to help his friends no matter what and by the gods if he had to take on the most dangerous bandit tribe in fucking Minstral then he would do so. An Arc NEVER went back on his word.

He ignored the squelching mud under his new boots. Or the way his armor sat a little heavier on him than he’d like. The new gauntlets were closer to a robotic hand than the armor most people thought of. A side effect of telling ruby that he was off to save her sister. He’d only just avoided muscle armor. Still, there were worse things than having a suit of armor tailor-made for you by the best blacksmith this side of the afterlife.

It at least let him look the part.

Still, he’d stalled long enough, time to deal with reality.

Raven stood before him.

“You’re a long way from home, boy,” she said, not looking up from the drink she was enjoying. The scantily clad Weiss poured for her. Both her and Yang were chained around the neck.

“I’m here for them”

“Then you have the ransom?” she asked with a raised brow

“Yeah, I'll just be giving it to you in steel rather than gold,” he said, working hard to keep his voice calm as he drew his blade. He didn’t deploy the shield; he'd need the element of surprise if he wanted any chance of surviving this.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Raven was worried, she’d heard about the arc family, hell she’d gone to school with the boy's father. There was a good reason why the area around the arc ancestral lands was so safe. Everyone who crossed the family died, or worse.

And his mother was definitely worse. A tribal just like her she’d fought Arc to prove a point, now thirty years later she was still a breeding sow for the family. Her warrior stock probably only made them more powerful. And now here he was ready to take her daughter and the Schnee.

If she had it her way she’d just give the boy both and be done with it. They weren’t worth her head. But that wasn’t an option. No, instead she’ll just have to offer something better than the satisfaction of her death.

“Very well boy, I'll take your steel. And if you manage to beat me I’ll even give you my body as well”

She only prayed that the Arc would accept it

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jaune wasn’t sure what to do, frankly, he wanted nothing to do with a woman who abandoned her daughter but if he didn’t take the deal then he’d likely be jumped by her entire tribe, who had begun forming a circle around the last patch of dry grass that hadn’t been turned to mud from them walking through it.

“Fine,” he said, annoyance in his voice, he just wanted Yang and Weiss back home with the team where they belonged now he’d have to deal with this too.

He took his place across from her, taking his sword in a two-handed grip that his father had tried teaching him when he was a boy. It was Pyrrha who taught him how to fight with a shield. Who taught him to protect others but jaune wasn’t looking to protect here. Only to slay.

There was no signal, Raven just rushed him. Normally he wouldn’t have been able to react to the speed. But months with Nora had taught him to use her peripheral vision. The added context to the attack that was about to hit him prevented panic and allowed him to dodge the blow as an ear-splitting screech tore through the air as dust-enhanced steel met angled armor. It was only sheer luck that let his pommel slam into her chin.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The boy was strong, Raven had a habit of toying with those weaker than her but for strong opponents, she tried to end it in a single strike. Using her aura to launch herself like a rocket at her enemy then causing another boost of aura to swing her blade fast enough to make a sonic boom like a bullet.

Not only had this jaune blocked it, but in the same fluid motion, he’d counterattacked. And now he was coming at her.

Gods’ why didn’t she just give him the girls?!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jaune stumbled forward catching himself just in time to almost run but not quite. Still, he was out of time bracing his shoulder he jumped forward slamming into her gut just as her sword would have split his head.

He’d told ruby he needed a helmet!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Raven was knocked on her ass and fear began to take hold, she couldn’t die here, this boy, this man was too strong and

NO!

She would defeat him, rolling to her feet she charged as much aura as she could into her blade and swung down, she’d be exhausted but the monster would be dead. Off to the side, she noticed that her daughter had freed herself and the Schnee. That would be a problem but it was too late for her to save her little boy toy.

Just as her daughter screamed the world went white

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jaune felt more aura coursing through him than ever before. And down there in front of him, on her back trying to crawl away in fear was raven.

“I give up!” she screamed as jaune lifted his sword, “please just take them and go!”

Jaune glared at the woman “I’d love nothing more than to leave your weak tribe and be fucking done with this” he said honestly. The longer he stayed here the more likely it was these guys would jump him. And even if he got lucky with raven he doubted he could take all of them “but unfortunately I made you a promise”

With that, he began to unarmor himself. Taking a step toward the retreating woman with each thunk of the heavy armor falling away until as he stripped his pants and showed off his cock to the world he once more sighed pulling raven back by her legs to him. He hoped yang and Weiss weren’t watching, he was pretty average and didn’t have much to show off. Then again, he didn’t have much to compare him with.

All the guys at beacon refused to shower with him in the locker room

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

OF COURSE THE BOY WAS A MONSTER, HE WAS A FUCKING ARC!

He was carrying around a foot of cock and it was surely gonna ruin her. But as Raven tried to crawl away, her own aura utterly depleted she felt him drag her back in front of him by her ankle. Her hands pulling up tufts of grass in vane as she tried to avoid her fate

“Just hurry the fuck up and strip raven, I have better shit to do!” came the annoyed voice of the monster behind her

What?

She froze and jaune growled in frustration ripping her clothes apart and lining himself up with her snatch

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She was tight, that was about all Jaune could say on the subject as Raven squirmed and struggled underneath him. He really wasn’t enjoying this. She was too shallow, too unused to him and SHE KEPT FUCKING CRAWLING AWAY!

Like, he got it, it was probably annoying to have to deal with him shoving himself into her, but damn it this wasn’t his fucking idea. And an Arc always keeps their word, so here he was trying to hold this whining bitch down so he could finish up and be done the entire fucking thing.

Finally getting tired of her bullshit jaune wrapped her hair around his hand and pulled her back into him. She screamed louder as he hammered into her, probably pissed that he was touching her hair like yang would be. Damn it he was starting to lose his boner! Think about Ruby Jaune! Think about that big, bubbly, Rubooty!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Raven was going to die, she was sure of it, his massive cock was sticking out of her stomach and she could feel her body struggling to accommodate him as he shoved that fucking pillar deep into her. Having already gone as far as her womb.

Then he told her he was halfway in! The fuking idiot didn’t seem to get that there was NO MORE FUCKING ROOM FOR HIM.

She screamed as her body was flooded with pleasure as he pulled her hair. Bringing her back into him as he fucked her like a common whore. Her daughter was watching with her friend and… oh gods he just got bigger!

He must have seen Yang masterbating to this.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He smacked Raven’s ass, disappointed it didn’t jiggle like Ruby’s when she ran, and struggled to maintain the fantasy. With a grunt, he pushed in deeper and held her there as his first orgasm finally came.

Thank the Gods’

Only two more holes to go.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Raven thought it was over when she felt herself fill with cum, groaning in relief as jaune pulled out of her now leaking cunt. Ruined for all the world to see. But then she felt herself being pulled up by her hair. And suddenly she was being throat fucked, her vision filled by a sneering Jaune.

She felt herself cum again as he used her

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was official, raven sucked at this. It was a fucking blow job! How hard could it be? Nora had given him plenty when she was bored on the road and Ren couldn’t keep up with her anymore. Let alone when he imagined Ruby to be able to do it. No, that wasn’t fair. Maybe she was just out of practice. After all, it's not like many guys around here would give her the time of day.

Okay Jaune just lay close your eyes and imagine Ruby, you can do this

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He was thinking about someone else, Raven was sure of it now, the way he kept his eyes closed. The way he tried to force her deeper. Was it Yang? Was that why he was here to save her? She didn’t know she didn’t care. Right now that massive dick was being used for her, it was hers!

Her nose filled with his scent, her tongue slipping out from her mouth to lap at his balls. Oh gods what a man. To take her so utterly. To ruin her and have her be just another of his conquests. She wept with joy as she felt him cum down her throat.

She couldn’t give this up

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jaune stared down at the clearly delirious Raven, he was a little worried that he’d gone too far as he had forgotten to let her breathe. Normally he’d just wait for the tap on his thigh but she obviously didn’t know about that.

Oh well, just anal left and he could head home with yang and Weiss. He hoped they weren’t too bored.

“Turn around slut,” he said, trying to sound authoritative. He’d heard girls like that, and he was willing to try with Raven since it didn’t really matter if she didn’t like it. Not like he was ever gonna see her again

He was pleasantly surprised to find he was right as he watched Raven squeal in glee before she put herself face down into the grass. Huh… good to know, maybe Ruby would like it if he used his leader’s voice?

Lining up with the older woman’s ass Jaune decided it was about time to wrap this up so he wasn’t gonna go with the slow and steady pace he had before

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Raven’s world was one of sensations alone as she felt her master slam his cock into her ass. Her eyes swam with colors and her body twitched as she felt orgasm after orgasm. Pain and pleasure mixing in a delirious cocktail that her brain drowned in. and her hands, no longer being used to hold her up, Rubbed along the imprint his cock made in her. Trying to give him the same pleasure she felt

Every breath was praise for him.

This was heaven.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Raven was annoying as hell.

“iloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouILOVEYOU!”

“Please just shut the fuck up Raven!” Jaune screamed back as he tried to finish himself off. Groaning in relief as he felt another set of mouths on his balls. Turning around he saw Yang and Weiss doing their best to help him through this chore. They were great friends and jaune owed them for this.

What they lacked in skill they made up for in enthusiasm. And Jaune soon found himself about to cum slamming home in the bandit queen jaune moaned in relief as he flooded raven’s body with his seed. Slowly pulling the still hard cock out of the twitching mess of a woman and letting Yang and Weiss try to clean him up.

Oh yeah, he owed these two a lot. Though he did come to save them in the first place. But that was only to help his friends so yeah, he’d still owe them.

Nodding in agreement with his train of logic, he said out loud “welp time to go home” to his surprise the Raven opened a portal to …. Qrow?

OH HEY, THERE WAS RUBY!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ruby was a very happy girl, her sister was safe, as was her bestie Weiss. And Raven had even learned the error of her ways. Yeah, today was great.

It was also great because she was slamming her nice thicc ass back on Jaune’s dick like nature intended. Honestly, what was Raven thinking trying to take a dick this amazing with an ass like that? At least Yang had the common sense to use her tits to get jaune off. And Weiss…. Weiss was willing to help however she could.

So that’s why she let her sister and friend join in on her fun with her boyfriend.

Slamming her ass down on his dick faster, Ruby relished the attention that was on her as Raven whimpered in the corner.

Yeah, Yang and Weiss got to help, but Raven had to study hard if she wanted to be a good slut. That’s why she was being forced to watch her and Jaune go at it for hours on end.

It totally wasn’t because ruby liked putting the snobby bitch in her place. Ruby would never do that.

Moaning in pure pleasure as she arched her back and Jaune came inside her. Ruby smiled before resuming her work with a kiss from Jaune.

And they all lived happily ever after

[yamalegacy]

prompt eleven with mirko 😳

i've already done 11 with midnight but idc, i love buff bunny too much not to do it! and well, considering how it aligns with the godly possessive!rumi hcs, it's way too tempting anyway! so here goes!

prompt: #11 from this list  “I bet you think you’re real cute letting them put their hands all over you. We’ll see how cute you look later when I get you home.”

pairing: mirko (usagiyama rumi) x gn!reader

cw: SMUT. afab reader. rumi is a possessive bunny. brat!reader. dom/sub dynamic. hair pulling, spanking, dirty talking, slight degradation & praise kink (yes, both at the same time, don’t underestimate rumi), fingering, strapon, slight anal fingering. oh boy this really is the filthiest thing i’ve written in a loooong time.

word count: about 3,7k words WOPS I GOT CARRIED AWAY

⚠️ MDNI reminder for minors to not interact with this post ⚠️

   Your phone buzzes exactly seven minutes after you started a conversation with Keigo— he insists you call him Keigo, because Hawks is too professional and Takami is too formal, his own words. Seven whole minutes (yes, you’ve been keeping an eye on the time during the whole conversation). It’s over six minutes later than you’d expected, really. It buzzes again almost immediately, and you make a point to ignore your phone for a bit as you glance at Rumi, on the other side of the bar, over the rim of your glass.

When she arcs an eyebrow at you, visibly losing her patience, you give all your attention to Keigo again and offer him a smile before pulling your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans to check the messages you’ve no doubt received from the Rabbit Hero.

fluffy butt 🐇🤍

i bet you think you’re real cute letting him put his hands all over you we’ll see how cute you look later when i get you home

It’s almost disappointing how predictable she is with these things. Almost. Rumi is way too hot when she gets jealous for it to actually be disappointing. You want to remind her that she is the one who invited you to that bar and who left you alone to get drinks, that she is the one who got distracted by a conversation with Ryukyu, but you decide to leave her on read and see what happens.

From where you stand, you can see Rumi’s internal struggle not to just abruptly cut Ryukyu in the middle of what she is saying so that she can get right between you and Keigo. It’s quite the amusing sight, from her flattened ears to her thumping foot, her attitude reeks of frustration. You can’t help but wonder what will tick her off so much that she will intervene — Keigo has only touched you shoulder and given your arm a light squeeze and Rumi is already seething, so it seems likely just about anything would set her off.

“I can hear her thump from here,” Keigo comments, a lazy smile adorning his lips. “I’m surprised she hasn’t tried to murder me yet.”

You chuckle at his words.

“I think she’s trying to see whether or not looks can kill.”

He leans closer to you (and you know it’s much too closer to Rumi’s standards because you can smell the minty alcohol on his breath), “I sure hope looks can kill. It’d be a lot less painful than her foot up my— well, wherever she fancies shoving it, I guess.”

You don’t even have time to give him a reaction that you can hear heavy footsteps approaching, so you lean away from Keigo just enough to properly look at your girlfriend as she marches over to you. It’s only now that she is right here that you notice she’s opened her leather jacket, revealing one of her favorite crop tops — black, sinfully tight and exposing just the right amount of cleavage and abs to make your mouth water. 

God, her skin always looks so tempting, you want to reach out, to put a hand on her waist, under her jacket, but she grabs you by the wrist before you can even try to move a muscle. Her eyes are fixed on you, and, to your surprise, she doesn’t even acknowledge Keigo.

“We’re leaving,” she says, her tone stern.

“Rumi... it’d be rude to leave so early,” you tell her, smiling at her with all the innocence you can muster (enough to fool anyone who doesn’t know you well), “and you are the one who wanted us to come here in the first pl—”

“We’re leaving. I remembered I have something to do.”

You want to push, to tease, to see how far she’ll go, so even if her tone leaves no room for argument, you open your mouth again.

“But you—”

“Now.”

She tugs are your arm and you follow as she takes a first few steps away from Keigo, only to turn around and face him.

“I hope you choke on your fucking feathers, birdy.”

“Always nice to talk to you, Usagiyama,” he simply smirks and gives her a small wave of his hand, “and I hope something,” he glances at you, “will enjoy getting done.”

Rumi doesn't give you any time to say goodbye to him, or to any of her hero friends, and she drags you out of the bar, heading straight for her car. She doesn't even let you register how forceful she is being that you've already been shoved in the passenger seat.

The ride home is short (too short; Rumi drives way too fast for a Pro Hero who is supposed to set an example for those around her) and awfully quiet. She didn't even look at you, didn't glance your way at least once like she usually does. Rumi's ears are still flattened in annoyance when she opens the door of her house to push you inside.

She kicks off her sneakers and takes off her leather jacket to leave it on the back of chair, then heads to the couch, sitting down nonchalantly, arms crossed under her chest in a way that pushes up her tits. All you can do is stare, unable to form a coherent thought as you settle down next to her.

“You had fun flirting with Big Bird, baby?” she asks, and the question would be innocent enough if you didn't know your girlfriend better.

You move so that you're facing Rumi on the couch, your knee bumping into a strong thigh — and maybe, for a moment, you get briefly distracted by the thought of these rippling muscles on either side of your head.

“Come on, Rumi, you know there was no actual flirting. We were just having fun.”

She leans closer to you, invading your personal space, face so close to yours that all you can see in the harsh coldness in her eyes. You barely have time to blink that one of her hands is at the back of your head, her grip on your hair surprisingly gentle.

“Oh, because you think I don’t know what little game you were playing with him there?” she is nearly snarling at you, and this time, her grip on your hair tightens, deliciously painful, and she tugs. “Why do you think I waited so long to grab you, uh?”

So, she knew? The whole time you spent talking with Keigo, flirting with him and allowing him to flirt to get a reaction from her, she knew? And it still didn't stop her from getting jealous and acting possessive in the middle of a bar, surrounded by numerous other Pro Heroes.

Her grip on your hair tightens once more and she brings you closer to her body.

"I just wanted to see how far you'd take your little game," she explains, words nearly spat through her gritted teeth. "But I couldn't take it anymore. You're mine, understood?" she asks, but the way she pulls at your hair clearly tells you that she expects no reply.

"I thought we agreed that I was my own person?" you smirk, even as she yet again tugs at your hair. "We said we don't own each other even if we're dating, didn't we?"

It is true, it's something you've talked about pretty early in your relationship together, after Rumi admitted that she could get jealous easily, but hated that she got jealous. It led to conversation about acting possessive during sex and marking, and you know that's what Rumi is going on about right now, and not some sort of ownership that she'd have over you because she is your girlfriend. But you can't help it, can't help wanting to push all her buttons and see what kind of punishment it earns you.

"You're playing smartass with me now, uh?"

She tugs at your hair again, forcing your head back slightly, but you hold eye contact, refusing to let her get the submission that she wants from you just now. You've already earned yourself a punishment, might as well make the most of it, right?

"I would never."

You smile innocently and bat your eyelashes at her, even if the pain tickling your scalp is starting to blur your sight.

She lets go of your hair without saying anything, and for just a second, you think she might be too annoyed with your act and drop the issue entirely to move on and do whatever she feels like doing for the rest of the night. But she wraps her strong fingers around your wrist and pulls, her free hand pressing harshly between your shoulder blades to push you down onto her lap, face into the couch cushion and ass up, perched over her thighs.

Well, shit.

The first spank comes unexpectedly fast and hard, you have no time to brace yourself for the impact, and your jeans do little to absorb the shock and the pain spreading through your cheek.

“Shit!” you groan through gritted teeth, trying your best not to get too loud, which is most likely exactly what Rumi wants right now.

“Got something to say, baby?” Rumi asks, and you can hear the smirk in her voice.

“Nope. All good,” you mumble.

A second slap comes, matching the first one in speed and strength, leaving your ass numb from the pain. If there’s one thing you can never expect from your girlfriend, it’s for her to go easy on you.

“All good, you said?”

“Yup,” you whimper pathetically, your voice having none of the bite you wish for. Two spanks, and Rumi already has you trembling over her lap, it’s ridiculous, but you should have seen it coming, really.

She spanks you again, twice, and takes the time to brush the palm of her hand over your sore cheeks, the gesture almost soothing. She repeats the movements again, and again, before stopping to give your ass a squeeze. With each spank, you pant, forcing yourself to swallow the moans that threaten to fall past your lips.

“You’re taking your punishment really well today, baby. Trying to be good for me?” she teases, her hand now comfortably lodged between your thighs, too close to your aching core and yet not nearly close enough.

“Or maybe you’re not hitting as hard as you think you are.”

You aren't sure why you said that, aren't sure what you're doing right now, all you know is that it's dangerous because you're just provoking Rumi — it's always a recipe for disaster in the end.

She doesn't spank you though, but she snakes a hand between her lap and your stomach, pressing her fingers into your skin and pushing up until you put your weight on your knees and lift yourself up enough for her to get access to the button of your pants. Rumi hooks her fingers at the hem of your jeans and tugs, dragging them down your thighs along with your underwear.

She doesn't give you time to adapt to the cool air against your exposed bottom, doesn't let you collect your thoughts or even take a breath, before she is spanking you again. She marks no pause between each strike, just spanks and spanks and spanks. Lost in the rapid fire of her assault on your sensitive ass, you can't stop yourself from moaning — and that's when she pauses.

“Did my baby just moan?”

You stubbornly refuse to respond, clenching your jaw. You know a spank is coming, but you still aren’t ready for the pain.

“It’s okay to admit that you’re just a slut, desperate for me to touch you,” she coos, her calloused fingers gently brushing the raw skin of your ass. “Even if I’m just spanking you, you want me to touch you, don’t you? Because you’re a needy little whore for me, uh?”

Her words cause a shiver to run down your spine, straight to your core, but you press your thighs together and bit your tongue. You’re well aware what she wants you to do, what she wants you to say, but you don’t want to give it to her today. You’ve decided to play, and you won’t back down just because she’s spanking your ass raw. At your stubborn silence, she all but growls in your ear, her annoyance obvious as she slaps your burning cheek once more.

“How long do you think you can resist, baby?” she asks as her fingers trace little patterns on your back, your shirt riding up as her hand slowly moves higher. “How long til you act like the good little slut you are for me?”

You muffle your whine in the cushion, which is starting to feel uncomfortably wet from your tears and drool under your cheek. You hate it, but you can’t give in now. Rumi would be too pleased.

“Just say you’re mine, baby, say you’re my perfect good little slut,” she says, her fingers trailing down your back to settle between your thighs, an inch from where you need her most, “just say it and I promise I’ll fuck your pretty cunt so good you won’t be able to walk.”

She runs a finger along your drenched fold, and you hear her hum in delight. You hate how wet she’s making you; you can’t deny that this is all for her, that it’s the effect she has one you. Met with only silence once again, Rumi harshly pinches your clit between her thumb and index finger.

“Aaah! Rumi—” you gasp, whole body quivering.

“Say it. Say you’re my slut. Beg me to fuck you.”

“Please,” you whimper weakly.

“Uh? What did you say? Didn’t hear you, baby. Stop hiding in the couch and gimme a proper sentence.”

You nearly sob as she tightens her grip on your clit before releasing it.

“I’m your slut! All yours!” you feel your whole face burning at your own word, at the desperation in your voice. “I need you to fuck me! Please... Mirko... please fuck me.”

She chuckles, all too amused to your liking.

“See? Ain’t so hard to be good, is it?”

Before you can register what’s happening, Rumi has hoisted you in her arms and thrown you over her shoulder and is making her way to your bedroom. Your pants still down the middle of your thighs and ass bared, it’s the most embarrassing ever but you can’t even find words to express it; you can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs, sticky and embarrassing.

She tosses onto the bed as soon as she is close enough to it.

“Be good and strip for me, baby. Take everything off.”

You hurry to obey, pushing your pants further down and kicking them off your feet before you start working on taking off your shirt. Rumi’s disappeared into the bathroom, so you sit patiently to wait for her, back leaning against the headboard.

When she comes back, Rumi is dressed, and you take the time to admire her beauty. The size of her strong arms obvious through the thin material of her long-sleeved crop top, the delicious expanse of tan skin of her stomach, her tight abs, the curve of her hips— you notice it only now, the thick bulge hidden under her jeans. You look up at her face, surprise written all over your features, and the smile she gives you is playful, she even wiggles her eyebrows at you.

Rumi unbuttons and unzips her pants, freeing the thickness of her strapon from them before climbing on the bed. She sits, legs spread, and beckons you closer with the simple movement of a finger.

“Suck it,” she demands, “get my cock nice and ready to fuck your cunt.”

You crawl over to her and wrap a hand around the hard silicone as soon as it’s within reach, your lips closing around its head. You circle it with your tongue, lick it, and look up at Rumi’s face, the dildo snug in your mouth. She can’t feel it, but she always enjoys when you put on a show for her.

Long gone is your little rebellious act from earlier. All you want is for Rumi to take you here and now, to have her fuck you until you pass out.

As you take more of the silicone cock into your mouth, she puts a hand on your head, and soon enough, you can feel her tight grip in your hair. You’re almost halfway when she tugs and pulls you away from her cock.

“Ass up. Face down. Now.”

You do as she orders, resisting the temptation to look up when you feel the bed dip next to you. You hear her open the drawer of the nightstand, then the sound of the lube bottle being opened. From the loud clang that follows, you know she’s thrown the bottle back in the drawer rather than bother putting it down.

Her fingers are cold when they press against your entrance, slick with thick lube that she spreads over your folds, over your clit, before pushing two fingers inside you. You grip at the sheets, low moan leaving your lips.

“Look at you, being all good for me now,” she comments, her tone teasing. “Taking my fingers so well.” This time, her voice comes from much closer, and you feel her chest pressing against your back. She kisses your neck and shoulders as she starts moving her fingers, slow and deliberate. “You want my cock, baby?”

You whimper at a particularly harsh thrust of her fingers and tighten your grip on the sheet to try and keep yourself anchored, balanced.

“Yes, please! I want your cock in me!”

She pulls out her fingers, and your cunt clenches around the emptiness. You can’t help but moan miserably. She coos above you, amused by your desperation, of course.

She pushes the thick head of the strapon against your hole, but instead of pushing further into you, she guides it up and down your folds, several time, painfully slow, spreading the slickness of your arousal mixed with the lube. You whine and push your hips back, seeking what she is refusing you. A big mistake, and you know it even before both her hands hit your ass, still raw from the spanking she gave you.

“Don’t try that again, baby,” she warns, squeezing the flesh of your in her hands as she presses the dildo against your entrance again. “You gonna be good for me now?”

“I promise I’ll be good! So, please, please fuck me!”

She pushes into you slowly, just the head, then pulls out and repeats the movement, carefully stretching you. She eases more of the strapon inside you with each move, and while you are grateful for how careful she is being, you wish she would just fuck you into the mattress already.

Finally, you feel her hips against your ass, and she pauses for a moment as her hands rest on your waist.

“You ready, baby?”

“I am.”

The pace she sets is fast, the movements of her hips quick, precise and harsh, almost unforgiving. The material of her pants feels rough against the sensitive skin of your ass, and you suspect Rumi of having kept her pants on merely to torture you that way.

Within seconds, Rumi has you panting and moaning.

“So good for me, taking my cock so well.”

She slows her quick pace to focus on deeper, more forceful thrusts. You can’t even form a coherent sentence, or even words, to respond. And when one of her hands leaves your waist, you clench your teeth and brace yourself for an impact that doesn’t come. Instead of spanking you, she is gentle as she places her hand on your ass. She doesn’t leave you time to consider asking her what she is doing that her thumb is pushing against your hole, and she keeps it set firmly in your ass as she quickens the pace again, fucking into your cunt ruthlessly, her hips slapping your ass with each thrust.

“Fuck! Mirko! Please!”

You’re babbling, unsure if the sounds that come out of your mouth are even the ones in your mind, but you can’t bring yourself to care when all you can feel is your girlfriend fucking you like your lives depends on it. And with each thrust bringing you closer to the edge, you moan, you mewl, you pant, you aren’t sure which, the lewd, wet noises of your pussy overwhelming your senses.

“Look at you, baby,” she croons, “being such a good slut for me, making such pretty noises just for me. So pretty and perfect. And all mine.”

“I’m so close! Please! I wanna come!”

She stills her hips, “then do,” she simply says, punctuating the short sentence with a strong thrust before resuming her quick pace.

It only takes a few more thrusts of her cock and her thumb pushing a little further into your ass for your muscles to clench desperately around her strap as waves of pleasure crash through your body, your limbs quivering from the unadulterated bliss clouding your mind. 

She is gentle as she pulls out, kisses your back as she eases you down onto the mattress and lies down next to you.

You turn your head to look at her, and she is grinning at you as you lay limply on the bed. She caresses your cheek, soft and loving, and shifts closer to kiss you on the nose.

“You did so good, babe,” she whispers, her smile only broadening, “I’m so proud of you.”

Feeling the exhaustion invade your body, you close your eye and focus on enjoying her gentle touch as she runs her fingers along your back and shoulders.

“Let’s get you in the shower in a few minutes, yeah? I’ll have to take care of your ass. I really got carried, sorry ‘bout that.”

You chuckle sleepily at her apology.

“Don’t be sorry, you know I liked it.”

“I do know. I mean, you fucking dripped on my pants, there’s still a spot on my thigh.”

You groan in embarrassment, and you would cover your face with your hands if your muscles weren’t still twitching from your orgasm.

“Just carry my lifeless body to the bathroom.”

“Gimme a break, I’m tired too. I fucking wrecked my hands spanking you so hard, ya know?”

“You really want to compare the state of your hands to my ass?” you mutter, frowning, eyes barely opening.

It’s her turn to chuckle.

“Yeah, okay, no. Just, lemme take a breathe and I’ll take care of my baby.”

[poisonousquinzel]

https://lady-ha-ha.tumblr.com/post/160715688748/is-that-comic-before-the-reboot-and-which-one-is

(I have not read this comic) Is this true? (if so, ivy deserves someone better).

Post

Kay, first off both of those people are Jarley shippers so take everything they say with a grain of salt and then some, cause no. that part isn't about how much Harley loves Joker and will always choose him over Ivy. Literally you can tell ops don't know what they're talking about cause her whole thing in those issues is going to kill him for years of graphic abuse but ultimately falls back with him once she’s face to face with him.

Like wow, congrats on missing the fucking point again but not surprised from people who ship her with The Fucking Joker.

also, ffs, can anyone please have basic comprehension skills and realize that Harley and Ivy are both fucked up sometimes because they’ve got issues and that’s not comparable to Joker’s long ass history of graphic and disgusting abuse.

Harley and Ivy are villains, they're not a wholesome cookie cutter, White Picket Fence, super vanilla ship with no bad moments. They're both bad guys with a fuck ton of trauma that they both have to work through, and have done so at this point. 

Gotham City Sirens was published between 2009 - 2011, Harley and Ivy weren't blatantly romantic at this point nor had they had anywhere near the development that they’ve had at this point.

Like don’t go into Harlivy content expecting them to be the perfect wlw rep with no flaws during their arcs from BTAS to current time cause that’s just not realistic. They’re both deeply flawed people who’ve got a fuck ton of trauma that they need to (and have) worked through. 

I have talked about the BTAS issues here and this post is good at explaining them too. 

X

X

Harlivy is not and has never been a purely wholesome, goody-goody ship. They’re messy, they have issues, and they have bad moments sometimes, but they both worked through their seperate trauma and came out stronger and better because at the end of the day, they care about each other. 

Harlivy has messy, toxic moments sometimes, but they’re not, and have never been, abusive. There’s a difference between unhealthy moments and a ship being abusive. 

That’s completely different to how Joker acts Constantly, because he does not care that his actions towards Harley are abusive, because he doesn’t give a shit about her. 

He enjoys hurting her. He enjoys ruining her. 

Jarley has always been intended to be written and shown as a domestically abusive relationship.

This is also the first instance where it's directly referenced that there's something more than platonic between her and Ivy, other than the reference in Batgirl Adventures. 

Gotham City Sirens is also not connected to any verses.

This didn’t happen in the timeline we’re in rn with Harley Quinn (2014)/(2016)/(2021).

Comic timelines and shit are stupid and make everything more confusing and awful and I hate it sdfjdksksdkjsd

-

this is gonna be a long post since ops wanna just cut and paste random bits of the issues like jarley stans always do (cause jarley never has good moments that aren’t entirely surrounded by him abusing her) I’m going to show them in full context. *added a keep reading cause it is a lot

(All panels shown are from #15, #18, #19, #20, #21, #23, #24, #25)

So, Harley's entire thing at this point in the GCS comic in that she's been triggered by flashbacks of Joker's abuse and she breaks into Arkham with the intent to kill him.

The entire thing in these issues is showing her smarts and how she knows people's trump cards to get under their skin so she can break into Arkham. 

She’s trained to identify these things in people and she's fucking good at pushing people's buttons. 

this is also just one of my fav Harley covers so I wanted to show it jsdjksdks

“Trump cards. Everyone has one. Places where the armor we build around ourselves is weakest.” 

She’s right. And it’s now shown that Harley’s willing to use those below the belt trump cards if she has to.  

And frankly, I’d say this is worse than what she says to Ivy. And I’m not surprised she did it. She didn’t want to, she tried to get him to just open the door - 

“Don’t make me do this, Aaron. There are some secrets that should stay hidden. Things you should never learn about your own life.” 

but she’s also entirely fueled by rage and the desire to kill Joker. She came here for a reason and she’s not leaving until she’s done it.

“I’m going to kill you. For everything you’ve done to me. All the times you’ve made me feel useless and small. For all the times I will never forget. For all the things I can never forgive. All the memories -”

“Hello, Harley. I’ve missed you.” 

“Memories. That’s all I have left. The past is gone and all I have is... memories. 

Memories.

Memory. 

Gone.

I guess I too have a trump card.”

“Oh, Ivy. You know exactly what my answer is going to be. But you’re hoping you’re wrong, aren’t you?”

She’s also right about this, they already mentioned this in #18.

“How did I become the bad guy?”

“You’re the one choosing a man over her girls.”

“Are you kidding me? You would never say that to Harley, and we both know she’d dumb us in a flat second if Joker called her.”

“Hey! That’s not fair-- Actually, that’s probably true.”

“The difference is, she can’t help it. You can. And she’s working on it. You’re not working on it.” 

“Too easy, Ivy. Too easy. I know your weak spots. Now I just need to push.”

This is exactly what she’s been doing since the starting point of this post. She’s still in that mindset and she knows she can’t beat her on a regular battle field. Neither of them can. 

“Like I said-- You beat me in any level playing field. But I don’t fight on those fields.” 

Harley’s biggest strength as a villain is her ability to completely mentally stall her opponents and learn their weak spots. She wouldn’t win against the majority of the Big Bads if she didn’t fight on a different field than they are. 

so, like yeah, out of context what she says to Ivy seems awful and completely screwed up, and it is, but it’s also built up really well and it’s completely in character for her at this point in her fall during these issues. 

Is what she did fucked? absolutely. It’s not painted that it’s not. 

Ivy Literally Goes To Kill Her For It.

In the end of this all three of them are recaptured by Catwoman and Batman and that’s where we’re starting off at again. 

“Oh, Harley.

The only human I’ve ever called a friend.

To what lengths will I go? Where are my own limits? She is the Strangler fig. And I am the tree, choking underneath. 

Without me, she could never grow. 

But without her, I would fall if I grew too tall.” 

“Will she ever stand by herself? 

Will she ever be ready? 

She is in throes of madness. She sees him, her brain flooding with adrenaline, it makes her excited, nervous, then the feelings start to fade, and she needs more. And more. 

She sees it as passion. She sees it as love. 

But it’s not. It’s addiction. And she’s relapsing.” 

Ivy is well aware of the nature of their relationship. She’s not stupid and she’s been shown already to know that it’s something that takes time. It’s not a one off break up and it’s over. That’s not how abusve relationships work. 

What do I do?

I could use my pheromones to alter her brain chemistry.

I could leave her behind abandoning her to the wilds of her own mind.

I could kill her right now.

Show her how red Nature can be.

There's one other option.

It would require patience.

Even love.

Maybe I'm more human than I want to admit.

"You have one chance to answer this."

I know, if she agrees, she'll be doing it for revenge. For him.

"She put us behind bars."

But maybe if I get away from this place, if I give her something else to think about. Maybe she can break the cycle. But it has to be her choice.

"I'm going to kill her. Come with me."

So yeah, it’s definitely not a just “Harley hurts her and runs off with Joker and it’s just a plain ol’ her choosing him over everyone and that’s that.” 

Jarley shippers love to just reduce all her scenes and arcs down to their “epic love” and shit, but that’s taking away literally everything about her and reducing it down to the 3 panels that they’re “cute” in. Her arc in this part is fucking heartbreaking to read.

And Ivy damn well knows what’s going on with her. She’s smart and she’s the one that’s been there throughout all of this. She found her in the park after he shot her out of a rocket. 

And she knows it’ll take time for Harley to get over and through his manipulation, that’s just how it works with abusive relationships. 

But she’s also not forgiving at first, she’s mad and rightfully so, until she sees the sate of Harley’s cell and realizes how bad her addiction is at that time.

A lot of the unhealthy moments on Harley’s side when it comes to them are directly caused from the effects of being in an abusive relationship with Joker. Because she’s always in this area of her journey in those moments. She’s never fully over him or emancipated. 

And that’s realistic. It’s hard sometimes to be friends with someone who’s in abusive relationships like theirs, having to watch them return to that person time and time again and it’s frustrating after a while. 

I know from personal experience, it’s really hard to watch someone you care about go back or forgive someone that continues to hurt them. 

But abuse victims desperately need a support system outside of their abuser. It’s a crucial part of being able to escape, because when they do try to get out they need someone there or they’ll literally have no where to go but back into their abuser’s arms.

It’s heartbreaking and it’s really rough for everyone effected, but that’s just how it is most of the time. Especially in their case, as they’re not just regular folk dealing with this. 

If she doesn’t have Ivy, Harley has no one else to go to but Joker, on more than just an emotional level. 

She’s lost her job. Her income. Her home. Her livelihood. Her everything.

Most of the time she has no other choice but to return to a life of crime after she’s released from Arkham because she can’t get a job, she’s a notorious criminal and she’s got a lot of issues that don’t just disappear with a bit of therapy. 

She has no other choice but to return to Joker because the other alternative is the streets. At least she knows what to expect with him. 

And that’s not even getting into the manipulation, gaslighting and degrading abuse that he drills into her constantly. 

He’s made her believe she’s not anything without him. That she’s not smart or useful or anything. 

And that’s why it’s so damn important for her to have a support system and why he’s so damn against Ivy. 

Because Ivy is the good voice on her shoulder telling her he’s wrong and that she doesn’t deserve that. 

-

And on Ivy’s side, she’s aware she gets very near cutting off all parts of her humanity. 

She’s a plant goddess, she’s insanely powerful and she feels everything through the green. Frankly, she’s not even on the same playing field as these villains. She’s significanty more powerful than Harley and Joker. 

Her connection to Harley is what keeps her humanity in tack, because despite everything, she does care about her. She was the first person she let in, the first person Ivy called a friend. 

The person that was able to get through to her in #14/#15 when she was losing herself. The one that was able to get through to her that the dude was manipulating her. 

“Ivy, I know you think you love this guy... but you’re just gonna end up strapped to his rocket!”

She had to knock her out for the dude to trust her / not attack them anymore. But Harley got through to her by mentioning how they first met in the park when she saved her after Joker shot her off in a rocket.

And Ivy is understandable turned off towards humans considering her origin and trauma around that. 

She’s got a lot of trust issues.

But both of them work through their seperate traumas over the years because their affection for each other is stronger than the issues their trauma has given them.

-

and also, sometimes, they just have shit writers. that’s an issue overall in comic fandoms. Some writers just fucking suck at getting any of the characters right, let alone LGBT characters, who’re notoriously treated like garbage by DC. 

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

Alex + Julie "You didn't deserve that... You deserve so much better."

you sent me this prompt a million years ago i'm sorry it took me so long to answer it. warning for friendship breakup angst. there's no carrie redemption arc in this fic but there IS alexjulie friendship.

with love on their throats | g | 1.7k | alex&julie, past julie&carrie

ao3 link in reblogs!

--

Julie doesn’t mean to ignore the boys all afternoon, but Carrie’s birthday was hard last year and so far, this year doesn’t seem to be getting any easier.

She has the foresight to turn her phone off, at least, this year. She can’t handle the social media posts from everyone else at their school. They’re probably in Carrie’s pool, in her kitchen, in her living room. Probably throwing around the throw cushions that Julie’s mom taught her and Carrie to sew covers for when they were ten. Maybe even smashing the glasses Julie used to drink Trevor’s homemade iced tea out of when she would come to visit before Carrie got home from sport in the evenings. The idea of seeing these familiar spaces still just… out there, existing, rather than stuck in the past along with her and Carrie’s friendship, makes Julie nauseous.

Plus, there’s the added bonus of not being able to text Carrie something reckless she might regret.

So her phone’s switched off. Her dad knows not to bother her today anyway, since he had a front-row seat to whole Carrie mess when it happened. He just shot her a sympathetic glance over breakfast and hasn’t spoken to her at all. Carlos is at a friend’s house, and wouldn’t bother her even if he were home.

It’s just the ghosts Julie is avoiding, locked her bedroom door, perched on her window seat with her headphones on, watching YouTube on her laptop.

Which means it scares her half to death when Alex waves a hand in front of her face.

She yanks her headphones off and curses, sharp and a little louder than she means to, and Alex jumps back like he’s been burned. “Julie! Uh, hi, hey. Sorry to scare you.”

“Why didn’t you knock?!” she demands, still breathless. “It’s you, you know better! Boundaries!”

At least Alex has the decency to look shamefaced. “I know, listen, it’s just -- we were worried about you! And we did knock, a lot, actually, but I don’t think you could hear us? So I said we should give you space but Luke and Reg started psyching each other out, and Luke’s never been able to handle space the same way since the Caleb Covington Kidnapping Incident--”

Which, okay, yeah, that’s fair enough. Julie still shudders at the memory of the Caleb Covington Kidnapping Incident.

“-- so then I got nominated because, well, Reg worried you might be getting changed or something, and that makes me the obvious choice, not that I wanted to be the obvious choice, just that -- okay, I’m doing a bad job, what I mean is --”

Finally, she decides to put him out of his misery. “Alex, stop. It’s fine.”

Relieved, he lets out a breath and leans on his knees, looking up at her with pretty, apologetic eyes. “Still. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to frighten you, we just… got worried. And wanted to see if you were okay. You’ve been in here all day.”

Julie nods and looks back at her laptop, where the YouTube video is still playing, and pauses it.

She hasn't looked back over at Alex when he says, cautious, "Are you okay?"

When she replies, “Yeah,” it isn’t because she wants to lie to him, necessarily. It’s more because she doesn’t know how to untangle her feelings enough to lay them out in front of him. More because it’s hard to explain why she still misses someone who she knows hurt her, who she knows should have known better.

It’s hard to explain why she feels guilt, and grief, over something she chose to let go.

The window seat dips when he sits down next to her, fingers twisted together in his lap, shoulders rolled forward. He’s offering her the tiniest, encouraging smile in the form of a little quirk at the corner of his mouth. Julie loves him so much that it softens the heartache, just for a moment.

But then it returns. Just as strong. Just as unreasonable. Just as painful.

“It’s Carrie’s birthday,” she tells him, without even knowing why she says it.

“Oh,” he replies, which seems fair. She doesn’t know what she’d say in his position. He chews his lip, a crease forming in his brow. “You guys used to be friends, right?”

God, can she talk about this out loud? It’s easier to joke with Flynn, to make fun of the situation, because Flynn saw it all play out, held Julie when she cried, stopped being friends with Carrie in solidarity. Explaining the situation from start to finish, to someone new, just feels impossible.

So instead she says, “Do you ever miss someone you know you can’t have back? Or not that you can’t. But you know you shouldn’t. You know that you can’t get them back, or you’d have to give up too much for it and it wouldn’t be worth it.”

Because sure, if Julie was really committed, she’s sure she could grovel her way back into Carrie’s inner circle. But as much as she misses her, she’s not prepared to do it.

Alex nods, understanding. “Yeah,” he says plainly. “Yeah, I do. Tons of people.”

Julie’s surprised, but she supposes she shouldn’t be. The boys talk about Alex’s family the way Julie’s mom used to talk about ghosts -- never directly, otherwise they’d hear her and be summoned -- and after the whole thing with Trevor, well. It makes sense.

“Can I get it to stop?” Julie asks. “I had to turn off my phone before I did something stupid like text her. What would I even say? Why would I want to say anything?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. He leans over so their shoulders bump together, and she leans her head on him. “It’s okay to miss her, you know. You guys had good things in your friendship -- I mean, I guess, right? That’s why you miss it?”

Julie nods, closing her eyes. There are so many good memories she doesn’t even know where to start. Running in the park. Sitting at the piano together. Fashion shows for their dads and Julie’s mom in the living room of the Wilsons’ huge house. Sleepovers with Flynn full of bickering and giggling and pillow fights. Birthday parties, their whole lives.

“But that doesn’t mean you didn’t have a good reason for stepping away,” Alex says.

That’s true, too. Julie’s pretty sure they didn’t have that good stuff for a while before their friendship ended, in reality. Carrie was becoming… snappish. Self-absorbed. All she wanted to do was boss the other girls in dance class around, and she didn’t ask to hear Julie’s songs anymore. Julie knew that being a good friend meant weathering the good with the bad, but she gave Carrie what felt like a million chances, and she wasn’t getting anything back. When she’d tried to bring it up to Carrie, things had… exploded.

She explains as much to Alex, in fits and spurts, and finishes with, “She just… blew up at me, she told me she’d been sick of me for ages and asked why I hadn’t noticed. Like I was just supposed to realise that we weren’t friends anymore without her telling me.” Sucking in a shaky breath, she manages, “And then my mom…”

“Oh, Julie,” Alex murmurs softly into her hair. She’s trying not to cry, she really is, but it feels all bubbly at the surface of her chest, and the way he puts an arm around her and squeezes tight shows that he can tell.

“I know it’s silly,” she chokes, “but it feels like we broke up, or something, even though we were just friends. It hurts so much just thinking about her.”

“It’s not silly,” he assures her, and wraps his other arm around her, too, so he’s hugging her close to him with her head against his chest. “There’s nothing less important about friends, and a friendship ending can really suck. Especially how she did it.” He presses a kiss to her forehead, and doesn’t draw attention to the few tears making their way down her cheeks. They sit like that for a moment, then Alex says quietly, “You’re a wonderful friend. You didn’t deserve that. You deserve so much better.”

Sniffling, Julie rubs her sleeve across her eyes, wiping away the tears. The thought dawns on her like the sunrise after a long, sleepless night. “I have so much better,” she realises out loud. “I have Flynn. And Dad and Carlos. And you and Luke and Reggie.”

“We are pretty fantastic,” Alex agrees, faux-smug, but his eyes are still cautious, and affectionate. “But it’s okay to be upset anyway.”

“I know,” she says. And she does. “But I think I’m almost done being upset. For now, at least. Maybe we could run through a few songs?”

“I’m sure the boys would love that,” Alex tells her, smiling, and he goes to stand up but she holds on tighter, so he won’t leave the hug.

He just feels so steady, and comforting, and she’ll never really get over being able to actually hold them. “Can we just. Stay here for a moment, first?”

Easing himself back down, Alex grins and pulls her closer, tucking her head under his chin. “Of course,” Alex says. “We can take as long as you need. Just us, or the others, too?”

She pauses. “The others, too.”

Alex closes his eyes, and Julie knows he’s reaching out to the others, through their one leftover remnant of their time in the afterlife, tugging at their leads until they come to find him. A moment later, Reggie and Luke both pop into presence in the middle of her room, puppy-eyed with worry and hope.

“Julie?” asks Reggie quietly, fiddling with his fingers.

“You good?” Luke asks, on the balls of his feet.

“Yeah,” she tells them. “Just needed a hug.”

Within moments, they’re all around her and Alex, Reggie’s arm around her waist, Luke’s leg somehow, inexplicably, over her lap. Alex makes an insulted noise, but he’s so relaxed, Julie knows he must not mean it. When she presses her ear to his collarbone, Julie can hear his heartbeat, solid and alive, miraculous. Her friend’s heartbeat. Her friends, all around her.

Things are still bittersweet, and it’s still Carrie’s birthday, but Julie is still surrounded by love, enveloped in it, living in it. She can be sad for what’s gone, and be grateful for what she has, at the same time.

[phantomwarrior12]

Old Wounds

How long has it been since she's been home?

Lord Shaxx watches as the Young Wolf materializes mid-stride, her ship battered from the floating wreckage of the Glykon. A rifle he hadn't seen before slung across her shoulders doesn't go unnoticed and the Warlord smiles behind his helmet.

Of course she'd return with a new gun - what actually surprises him is that her vault can still hold the litany of weaponry she's recovered over the years. His amusement ebbs after a moment, gaze drifting along her frame for any semblance of damage as the Young Wolf pauses beside the Tower's chief mechanic. As she allows her Ghost to relay the extensive damage to Holliday, Shaxx takes note of a few singe marks that hadn't been there before, a few new dings to her armor. Altogether, she seems fine - humoring the playful chiding from the mechanic before she finally turns to face him. The air around them shifts, sparking with Arc and Solar Light as their eyes connect.

How long had it been since she's been home?

He strides toward her and he swears it's relief that washes over her frame. She moves - albeit slower - toward him. She must be exhausted. All the more reason for Shaxx to scoop her up in his arms, her smaller frame weighing next to nothing for the Titan.

"Welcome home, Guardian," he says softly, clinking his helmet gently against hers.

Her only response is wrapping her arm around his neck and clinging to him. It's then that he realizes her Ghost had transmatted the weapon from her back and he is grateful for its foresight.

Over her head, Shaxx notes the nod of approval from Holliday, a genuine smile tugging at the corner of her mouth before she turns and sets to work on identifying which part of the list Ghost had given her warranted the most attention.

"Time for bed, I think," he chuckles and he can see more than feel the shift of her hood against his chin. She'd nodded, of that he is certain. Sometimes he wishes she'd speak, utter a single word of confirmation here and there. But he understands why she doesn't. Ever since Cayde-6, she...well, words are sparse. He does miss the sound of her voice - it's been so long since he's heard it. Even before Cayde's death, she hadn't spoken often, but it was often enough when they were alone.

Many things have changed since then, the Young Wolf, especially.

But there is a constant in all of this. Something he has no doubts of even after all this time. Something he clings to: her feelings for him. They are apparent in every interaction; every touch, every kiss, she cares for him deeply and that is all the Titan requires. He can survive without her words because her actions, her touch, every subtle movement of her lean frame tells him the same: she loves him and that has not changed.

It doesn't take long before he's carried her back to his quarters, setting her down and she gives him an appreciative pat on the chest. He watches her move off to go shower away the spore residue and Hive fluid while the Titan gets changed for bed. His helmet is set on the desk in the corner of the room before shutting off the light and sliding beneath the blankets just as the water shuts off.

He listens to the rustling from the bathroom before the door slides open and he looks over. With the moonlight streaming into the room, he can make out an oversized tshirt - that is no doubt from his top drawer - hanging over her frame like dress. His eyes follow her as she deposits her helmet beside his on the desk. Her back is to him and yet, he can see her head is turned toward the window that faces the hanger.

He knows where her thoughts lie on nights like these. Post-missions are always the most difficult. She'd grown used to giving reports directly to Cayde. They'd been close friends after all, and dare the Titan suggest, like family. Without him, there's a void in her heart, like a key piece of who she'd been is gone.

But then again, she tries to suppress it. Tries to power through because it's what he would've wanted. There's so much Shaxx wishes she'd tell him, starting with what it is he can do to ease that ache. Vengeance had only done so much - in fact, the only time the Warlord had been even remotely wary of the Young Wolf was the night she brought Cayde's body back to the Tower.

The chasm in her eyes, the silent determination. It wasn't the Young Wolf he'd fallen in love with and what came back still has a tendency to toe that darkened line. But she holds on, if not for him, then for Cayde.

It's then that he realizes how long it's been. A matter of minutes at most, but it feels like an eternity. At last, he finds his words, lifting the blankets as he does so. "Come to bed, dearest."

She jolts as if he'd broken a trance and she pivots. Soft rays of moonlight cast across her features and the sadness she's trying so damned hard to conceal glints in emerald eyes.

"Come on," he beckons softly and she shuffles slowly across the small room toward the bed. Usually it's only a few strides and she's there but there's a reluctance to her gait. Slow and measured and meandering all at once.

It's unlike her.

Perhaps some discussion of her mission will calm her, give her the sense of giving a report to someone she trusts deeply without actually having to do so. Or perhaps it will simply give him some insight into what jarred her on that mission.

"Your ship looks to have been damaged." He begins awkwardly, his eyes watching her every movement.

She manages a slight shrug and a vague gesture of the hand to signify dismissal.

"I suppose it was a wreckage, that's to be expected."

She nods her agreement as she climbs onto the massive mattress and slips beneath the covers he'd held up for her. But she doesn't move close to him like she usually does, just lays on her back, eyes trained on the ceiling above her.

What had gone through her mind in that shower that caused such a stark contrast from the hanger?

Lord Shaxx lays down beside her, resting on his side. "What are you thinking about?"

She shrugs again, tugging the blankets up to her chin.

"You can talk to me, my little Hunter. I'm right here," he props himself up on his elbow, studying her intently.

She appears to hesitate, take a deep breath as her eyes flicker to and fro on the ceiling before she can finally find the words.

"Found the Guardian onboard. Torn to pieces, strung up." She says softly.

"That must have been a gruesome sight." He rests his hand over her forearm beneath the blankets. He can feel the tremor of her muscles beneath his fingers, feel the subtle flare of solar energy cascading against calloused skin. She's barely keeping it together and now he needs to know why.

She nods after a moment.

"...there was something else, wasn't there?" He pries softly.

She shakes her head, gathering herself to speak. "No, just - I was too late. Always too late, Shaxx. I couldn't save him like I couldn't save--" she trails off and he can see the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.

So, there was more to it.

He shifts closer, slowly leaning his head down to press a kiss to her forehead, "I know. I know it feels that way. But you made it in time to save Osiris and Crow. You aren't always too late--"

She looks up at him for the first time. She doesn't believe a word he's just said, he can see it in her eyes. But there's something else, relief, perhaps? Appreciation? No. It's tired but acknowledging all at once. She gets his point but doesn't believe it in that moment.

It's a look he rarely sees, especially from her.

There is nothing he can say to correct that voice in her head - nothing she'll believe anyway. So, he settles for the only thing he knows will bring her comfort: cuddles.

He gathers her against him; strong, solid arms wound tight around her small frame as he holds her close. "It'll be alright," he assures her softly and she clings to him. He can feel her nails digging into his shoulders, the pain dull but there - he doesn't say anything. She breaks down and still, he holds her. Waves of solar energy cascade in soft waves against his frame and still, he holds her.

What she saw took her back to that fateful day in the Prison of Elders. Of that, he is certain. The powerless feeling must have been overwhelming and he wonders for a moment if the slow gait in the hanger hadn't been exhaustion, but grief. Now that he thinks back, she had seemed to stare past Holliday, not responding when the mechanic had looked toward her.

It doesn't matter now.

She's begun to drift off in his arms, sniffling softly as her forehead rests against his chest and there is no Light washing over him. Sleep will do her good, just as those tears had done the same. She's a long way from recovering entirely, but this is a step. She's reopened an old wound and perhaps - perhaps this time she'll face those demons rather than suppress them.

Perhaps she'll speak again, maybe even smile that playful grin he hasn't seen in three years. He can hope but he knows one thing with absolute certainty: he will be at her side through all of this.

The Crucible doesn't have time to consider loss. The only way is forward. But, perhaps, just this one time - loss must be the focus.

For her sake.

--------------

Forevers: @halo-2 @reaped-winnower @genken64 @sugarcoated44 @cayde-6 Shaxx's Guardians: @ataraxia101 @squirrel-stars @rain-wolfe

[avatarmerida]

Walking Home

This is inspired by @buggachat’s Bakery AU. I hope this is okay because I love this idea so much and I loved the winery arc. I wrote this assuming Adrien also lives at the bakery, though I don’t know.

——————————————————————————

“Okay no, no first of all they did NOT kick us out because I spilled. But IF did they did then that’s your fault!” Marinette exclaimed as the four of them left the restaurant.

“I didn’t mean that time,” clarified a bubbly Adrien as he ran ahead. “I meant when you kept turning the glasses into microphones and trying to get everyone to sing when they were still pretty full.”

“No! No! No!” she insisted, running up to him and giving him a gently tap on shoulder. “It was because you kept making chicken noises and they were awful!”

“They were amazing.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever heard a chicken,” she said smugly as she attempted to suppress her laughter at the memory. “It was so high pitched.”

“Bawk bawk bawk,” said Adrien quietly. Seeing Marinette suppress more laughter, he kept going and got louder. She couldn’t stand still, the laughter causing her to bend in half unable to catch her breath. Making her laugh was somehow so addicting and so he kept doing the awful chicken noise, getting higher and louder and faster. Passerbys gave them strange looks and rolled their eyes. Alya couldn’t help but smile at the thought that everyone who saw them must assume they were lifelong friends. Maybe even more than that.

“Oh wow I didn’t realize how late it was,” announced Alya, pretending to check her phone. She was fairly certain the two forgot her and Nino were there. “Ugh, I’ve got an interview scheduled for the blog at 8am.”

“Yeah and I’ve got to wake her up otherwise she’ll never get there on time,” added Nino with a laugh, catching on quickly. Adrien and Marinette snapped out of their bubble, seeing suddenly how ridiculous they must seem.

“We should do this again soon though,” said Alya. “All of us,” she added, looking at Adrien.

“Yeah, this was fun,” said Marinette, sneaking a glance at Adrien (though he didn’t notice) before turning back to Alya. “Are you okay to get home?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna grab a taxi,” said Alya. “What about you two? Are you okay? You didn’t switch to water when Nino and I did.”

“That was water? I thought you guys just switched to white wine,” asked Adrien. Nino chuckled and handed Adrien his phone so the two could make plans to hang out later in the week.

While the boys talked, Alya pullled Marinette into a hug to supposedly say goodbye.

“No girl, for real are you okay to get home? We can drop you off,” she whispered.

“No it’s okay you guys live the opposite way and you need to get up early,” whispered Marinette back. “The bakery isn’t that far and It’s not like I’m walking alone.”

“Exactly,” said Alya, pulling away but making sure the boys were too distracted by their conversation to hear theirs. “I know tonight was fun but you didn’t start the day being Adrien’s biggest fan. You’re okay walking home with him?”

“Yes Alya I’m fine,” she hiccuped. “I’m not even that drunk.”

“Marinette!” Adrien called suddenly, very excited. “Can we make pizza at the bakery?!”

“Oh my god pizzaaaaaa!” She exclaimed far too loudly, throwing her hands in the air. “Yes, yes let’s go! Bye Alya!”

She ran ahead and Adrien excitedly and instinctively followed her, the two a collection of giggle and hiccups stumbling between the street lights.

“Text me when you get home!” Alya called after the pair. They were quite a sight. She couldn’t help but smile at the fact that this morning Marinette couldn’t say his name without grimacing and now they were rushing off into the night. She wondered how Marinette would feel about the blonde boy tomorrow.

“Pizza, pizza, pizza!” The two exclaimed as they trudged down the sidewalk.

“Okay I know we have dough and cheese I don’t know if we have any pizza sauce,” said Marinette raking her brain. “Do we want toppings? Because I think we just have sprinkles, maybe we-ahhh!” Suddenly the ground came rushing at her, but before she had time to process what was happening she was stopped inches from the pavement. She looked up and saw Adrien had caught her in the knick of time. His hands were on her waist as if he was dipping her in a some eleaborate dance. The streetlight above him reflected on his golden hair like a halo.

He really was a good model, she couldn’t help but think as she found herself drawn to his light like an innocent moth.

“Sorry,” he said realizing the position they were in. “Force of habit, I guess. I didn’t mean, I mean I-.”

“Don’t apologize,” she breathed, not attempting to remove herself from his grip. “You’ve just got like catlike reflexes.”

“Yeah, I maybe??” He laughed. He couldn’t even explain her own pun to her as he pulled her to her feet. “Hehe, uh sorry if I distracted you again.”

“No, no it’s my own fault, I’m extra clumsy when I’m drunk,” she explained, bashful suddenly for some reason. “I’m a regular public menace. But thanks for not letting me fall on my face.”

He smiled. “Anytime,” he stood up straight and offered her his arm. “To ensure you don’t fall again,” he explained.

The logic of his reasoning negated any objections her former view of him held at the ready. He didn’t have to be kind to her when it was just them, and this must be why she held onto his arm so firmly and allowed herself to be so close as they walked. She suddenly felt guilty for her ulterior motives in inviting him out. The skeptic in her wanted to point out that maybe he was faking being drunk, or was so well versed at deception that alcohol had no affect on his ability to lie. But a larger part of her just wanted to rest her head on his shoulder as he led her home, contently listening to him ramble.

“Okay but why isn’t pizza a pastry?” he continued. “Like a lot of baked goods have cheese, they all have dough. Is it the sauce? But donuts have filling and the tomato is a fruit, I think-?”

“Maybe pizza can be your menu speciality,” she murmured, following the voice that told her to rest her head. “But you can give it a fun name and make it look different so they won’t know it’s pizza until they taste it. You’d think of a good name, you’re funny.”

“I’m funny?” he asked, genuinely surprised and flattered.

“I’m drunk, who knows what I’m saying,” she joked. “I’ll deny it but yes you are funny. I like when you write puns on the specials board.”

“Really?” He chuckled. “I didn’t think you’d be a fan of bad puns.”

“I’ve heard worse,” she murmured, her mouth moving faster than her mind. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Like what?” he tried, trying to careful in this new territory, but fighting his catlike curiosity . “Are you a secret comedian?”

“No, no but I was in love with a boy who made puns a lot,” she said quietly, almost just to herself. “It seems so silly but now whenever I hear a good one I write it down so I don’t forget. So I can tell it to him. But I’m never gonna see him again. That’s so stupid isn’t it?”

He saw tears forming in her eyes. “I think it’s sweet,” he said. “Is he someone you meet in New York? On your internship?”

She stopped, her mind had brought up another similarly between him and Chat Noir and that was extra confusing right now. But she hadn’t had anyone to talk to about Chat and it felt nice to share something about him aloud. She had to tread carefully though.

“I’m sorry if you don’t wanna talk about it,” said Adrien before she could find the words. “It’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” he continued, gently removing his arm from her. “You’ve already done so much for me, helping me at the bakery, letting me into your home, inviting me out tonight . You’re a very kind person Marinette and I’ve invaded so much of your space already, I shouldn’t be invading your privacy.”

“No, Adrien please it is okay,” she insisted. “I brought it up. And I... I’ve never brought it up to anyone before, to be honest. And it must be because... I like talking to you. Because-.”

“-of the wine?” He offered.

“-because we’re friends,” she finished, looking up at him with soft, truthful eyes.

“I think it is the wine,” he joked, only half certain.

“Here, I’ll prove it,” she said, keeping her purse and rummaging through its contents. Finally she found what she was searching for. “Here,” she said, placing something in his hand.

“What is this?”

“My lucky charm,” she said proudly, as he opened his hand to reveal a simple keychain composed of colorful beads. “I made it during my internship, it helped me when I had deadlines or a creativity block. I take it everywhere.”

“And you’re giving this to me?”

“Well I still plan on needing it and having it close by, so I wouldn’t just entrust it to someone I don’t want in my space would I? It’s probably not as flashy as the friendship bracelets Chloe made you but-.”

She was cut off as Adrien pulled her into a tight embrace. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

She hesitated, but returned the gesture. “You’re welcome,” she said as the two stood in the middle of the sidewalk, embracing for probably a little too long. “Adrien, since we’re friends, I think I should be honest with you.”

He pulled back to face her, his face still holding a smile despite her dismal tone. “What is it?”

“Today, when I invited you...” she began, her pride almost too big a pill to swallow. “Well, I had ulterior motives for inviting you.”

“Really?”

“I thought, oh god I’m so embarrassed,” she pushed through. “I though you had ... a secret.”

“A secret?”

“Yes,” she buried her face in her hands, utterly embarrassed. “Ugh, and I thought it you got drunk enough you would blurt it out. And that’s so awful of me and I know it’s dishonest, but I promise you it’s not like that anymore. I was paranoid, I guess. I don’t know. But I’m so sorry. really do enjoy spending time with you-.”

“What kind of secret?”

“Huh?” She said, surprised he wasn’t mad. “Oh, i-it doesn’t matter. It was still wrong of me.”

“Well why couldn’t you ask me about it before?”

“I didn’t have any sort of proof,” she admitted. “Only a hunch.”

“Why?” He asked. He wasn’t mad but she couldn’t place his tone. People must have accused him of this before. She knew now he wasn’t his father, he was more than whatever his past held, and he didn’t deserve another faker. She knew he’d ask what she suspected and it would ruin everything but maybe she could make it less awful if she kept apologizing?

“Nothing major, just because of how you acted around me-.”

“I see.”

“-but I know now I was completely wrong,” she quickly went on. “Getting to know you tonight and spending more time with you at the bakery, I know I was wrong.”

“Oh,” was that all he could say? Oh?!

“Because you’re just so nice!” She went on, her drunk brain turning to rambling. “You’re actually a really great guy, and you’re just quiet at first, you’re ... a friend...”

“Just a friend?” He asked, the word holding his attention tight.

“Yes,” she said, hoping he was considering accepting her apology. “And I- oh darn it.” Suddenly, a raindrop fell onto Marinette’s cheek. Then another. Without warning the sky began to pour, and the pair sought shelter. Adrien took off his jacket and placed it over Marinette’s head to attempt and shield her from the rain, a fruitless attempt as the jacket immediately became soaked and heavy and helpful to no one.

As they made their way through the waterfall that claimed the sidewalk, an abandoned umbrella leaning against a building caught Adrien’s eye. He swooped in to grab and quickly opened it over Marinette’s head. “Ugh, I can’t see,” she cried, the rain causing her eye makeup to run and sting her eyes. She wiped it away, only to smudge it and give cover her face with a charcoal color. Adrien laughed.

“Mademoiselle Hamster, you look more like a raccoon now,” he wheezed. Before Marinette could offer a clever response, she saw the rain continued to fall on him as she was safely covered.

“You’re going to catch pneumonia,” she stated angrily.

“It’s not a very big umbrella,” he said, still laughing.

“Nonsense,” she said, yanking the umbrella handle to spin him in. “I’m not about to let you get sick and stick me with all the work at the bakery.”

But the umbrella was very small. And in order for them both to be covered, they had to stand very close together.

“Fine by me,” breathed Adrien, looking down at Marinette. She stood in front of him, her hands landing instinctively on his chest as if they were slow dancing. She was aware of this, but did not remove them. Her eyes went to the ground, not being about to handle the closeness with eye contact. In one hand Adrien held the umbrella, the other one slowly went to removed a strand of wet hair from her face. A bolt of lighting graced the sky.

“You were right you know,” he said quietly, the rain almost drowning him out.

“About what?”

“About my secret,” he said with a chuckle. “I thought I hid it well, but I guess I made it really obvious.”

“What?” Said Marinette, looking up at him is disbelief, her hands trembled. “No, no you’re still drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying. No, no I know now... after everything that happened it can’t be true.”

“Do you... not want it to be true?”

“I guess it doesn’t really matter what I want,” she admitted, bowing her head again. “Either it’s true or it’s not.”

“I promise you, it’s very true,” said Adrien, his voice softer than she had ever heard but somehow insanely familiar. He placed his free hand under her chin and lead her to meet his gaze.

“Wait, what did you think I-.”

“Marinette, I’m sorry that I couldn’t be more direct with you,” he began. “But I didn’t think I’d ever feel this way again since... you’re so amazing and I- I’m done keeping secrets; I do have feelings for you.”

“W-what kind of feelings?” she asked, a tiny portion of her intoxicated little mind convinced he was angry with her.

Adrien closed his eyes and leaned in close to her and his lips stopped mere inches from her own. Hesitating. Waiting. Silence. She looked at him, no streetlight caught his hair now but the shine remained. The glow was just him. He wasn’t a spy, he wasn’t a traitor, he wasn’t a villain. Her mind ran with things he was not until suddenly she realized what he was. Kind. Handsome. Funny. Charming. She had taken these things for granted before and thought they were lost and locked away forever. It was like they were reincarnated, her heart fluttered in an nearly forgotten familiar way as if to say she had been here before. As if to say this is exactly where she was meant to be.

Lighting crashed in the distance.

She chased the feeling and eliminated the space between them, drawn to him like he was magnetic. She could could blame it on the wine. She could blame it on the rain. She could blame it on the way his eyes were so gentle and vibrant at the same time like a lush green forest she wanted to explore until she was hopelessly lost. But she crashed into him like a she was a tidal wave, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled herself up to kiss him. He stepped back, surprised but pleased and tossed aside the umbrella in favor of having both his arms around her as he eagerly kissed her back. He lifted her off the ground, perhaps a little too overzealous, and the pair found themselves on the ground in the middle of a puddle. Only then did they break apart, like a dream they were rudely awakened from, and Marinette found herself laying on top of him.

Adrien looked at her, eyes wide and curious, awaiting a sign of how she felt. Even now, with her eyeliner smudged and her hair soaking wet, his heart skipped a beat in way it hadn’t done in years. What was she thinking? Should he say something? His mind raced with what to say next, he had imagined this confession thousands of times since he realized his feelings, but none of his scenarios went quite like this. He didn’t want to risk ruining anything, if there was even something to ruin. He played the last minute over and over in his head like a romantic film scene. He smiled a wide smile and if Marintee didn’t know any better, she could have sworn he was purring.

Marinette took that as her signal to lean forward, slower and more graceful than the first attempt and kissed him again. It was less rushed and more gentle, but also more certain. The umbrella was carried away by the wind, the two seemed to have forgotten about the rain or any storms between them.

The next day, Marinette awoke feeling sicker than she had ever felt in her life. Not only did she have a massive hangover, but being stuck in the rain had given her a terrible cold as well. Her body couldn’t decide which unpleasant feeling to focus on so she remained in bed, cursing the world.

“Hey girl,” came Alya’s voice from the doorway. “Heard you weren’t feeling too good.”

“Alya I’m dying,” moaned Marinette.

“Were you so busy dying that you couldn’t text me that you go home safely?” laughed Alya, removing the pillow from her face. “Omigosh you didn’t even wash your face last night. You really were trashed.”

“Ugh I don’t even remember it raining last night, but I woke up soaked,” complained Marinette.

“Wait, you don’t remember it raining?”

“No, after we said goodbye to you and Nino the night it a total blur.”

“Oh, does Adrien remember the rain?”

“I don’t know, we don’t talk,” Marinette reminded her, covering her head with a blanket. “I don’t know what I said to him on the walk home, but my throat is killing me so it feels like I was yelling.

“Wait, you don’t remember anything from the walk home?”

“No,” repeated Marinette. “Why? Did I drunk dial you or something?”

“Uh, no,” said Alya with a mischievous smile. “But when it started to rain I told the cab driver to drive by your place to see if you guys got caught in the rain and I’m so glad I did because I saw something very interesting.”

“What?”

Alya simply handed Marinette her phone and braced herself for the reaction she knew was coming. Marinettte had to do a double take at first. But there was no mistaking this was a picture of her. And Adrien. Kissing.

“WHAT?!” She exclaimed, giving herself a worse headache. “Ouch. Ugh, Alya please tell me this is photoshopped, this is a joke right?”

“Not this time, I am an eyewitness,” assured her friend. “I saw everything.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe he kissed me,”

“Well you shouldn’t because if you go back a little bit you see it’s clear as day who kissed whom,”

“What?” But it was true. She swiped back and forth and there was no arguing that she pulled him in, she reached up, she kissed him. Twice. “Oh no.”

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed,” said Alya taking back her phone. “If kissing a former model in the rain is the worst thing you’ve done after drinking, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. I don’t see why you don’t like him anyway, you two got along so well yesterday.”

“Oh no no no I just thought it was another dream!”panicked Marinette.

“Another?” Teased Alya. “So you often dream about kissing Adrien?”

Only when he’s working with his supervillain father “I’m never drinking again,” vowed Marinette, burying her head in her hands. “Please tell me no one else saw those photos.”

“Just me and Nino, but I’m keeping them for blackmail,” confirmed Alya as she headed for the door. “Or to show at your wedding.”

Marinette threw a pillow at the door, just missing her friend as she took her leave. What had gotten into her? Besides copious amounts of wine, that is. She prayed that Adrien’s memory of last night was even foggier than hers. She wished she had Tikki with her to talk her through this without any judgment but she just had her. And all she could do was panic.

“Hey, are you up?” Came a small voice accompanied by a knock on her door. “I just saw Alya leave and I wanted to check on you if that’s okay.”

It was Adrien. “Um yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, I guess,” she replied. He didn’t come in, she didn’t invite him. He was still wary of her. That must be as good sign, right?

“A headache?” He chuckled knowingly. “I had one too. I made a smoothie and that kind of helped. I can bring you one. Or leave it in the kitchen for you.”

“Thanks,” she said awkwardly. Silence stood between them for what felt like hours.

“Listen, about last night,” Adrien said at last. Marinette braced herself for the worst.

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to say thank you,” he said outside the door. “It meant a lot, you guys inviting me out. I had a lot of fun, well the parts I remember anyway.”

“Do you... remember walking home?”

“Hardly,” he admitted. “Apparently it rained?”

She laughed. “Go figure,” she said. She cousins sent he was right: she did enjoy the parts she remembered. “But um thank you too for helping me get home safely. You’re a good friend.”

The sound of the word made him blush, he was grateful she couldn’t see his face. “Anytime,” he said. “Feel better, I guess I’ll see you later?”

“See ya,” she said, as she heard him walk away from the door and flopped on her bed in relief. Crisis averted.

Adrien made his way down the stairs, Marinette’s keychain in hand. The moments of last night replayed in his head. It was blurry to him as well, but a few moments stood out to him. Mostly, the way she said ‘lucky charm’ and the way her smudged makeup resembled a mask.

[blkgojo]

Two Superheroes, One Bed | Carol Danvers x Reader

In which, you and Carol hate each other, but have to share a bed. 

Request: Anonymous

Despite popular misconception being a former terrorist does not make people like you. If anything, it makes them hate you. Despise you. Question you incessently with things such as, "Why did you do this? What is wrong with you? How could you have justified those acts?" And to be honest, your answer was less than satisfying. There was no tragic backstory. No great villain speech. Just you and your hatred for the government.

Living in the Avenger facility did little to change that.

See, the thing about Carol Danvers was that she wasn't an "Earth" hero. Logically speaking, there should've been no reason you disliked eachother as much as you did. You didn't work for the Kree. You had no squabble with saving refugees from colonial rule. On paper, you two were two peas in a pod. Both looking after people who didn't have others to help them, but you hated her the moment you laid eyes on her. Carol Danvers with the huge ass ego. Carol Danvers who somehow was fighting an intergalactic empire, but saw no problem with the way the US military conducted business. She hated you because honestly, who likes a murderer. Redemption arc be damned. You know how it goes.

"I just feel like I've done nothing to deserve this."

"You've killed hundreds of people."

"In total, the Avengers have killed like 2000 so, I don't really see how that's relevant."

Natasha sighs. Steve steps forward and when you cut your eyes at him, he raises his hands in plea.

"Half the universe's population is gone. The US government just needs a win."

You nod slowly. "And sending me across the fucking galaxy with-" You gesture vaguely to the blonde who until that point had decided to be quiet. "- is somehow a win."

"I hate to say this, but I agree," Carol interjects. "I work better alone. Y/N will just hold me back."

"We just need someone to go back to the planet where the infinity stores were destroyed. Make sure there are no remnants."

"It'd be quicker if I did it by myself."

"Y/N is the only one with the ability to replicate organic life," Steve retorts. "If there's a possibility she can locate some particle of infinity stone and replicate that, we need to take that chance."

"It'd be good publicity for her image and it'd bring us one step closer to bringing them back," Natasha continues.

"The world needs you to put aside your differences for the mission."

That was another thing you regretted about joining the Avengers. Steve had no shortage of motivating speeches under his belt. The good thing about villains was that they weren't much for conversation - there was no need to give motivating speeches when the odds were in your favor.

But, people were gone. Wanda, the only one you remotely liked, was gone. Snapped. Looking at Carol now, it looks like she must've lost someone, too. Her unpleasant face looks somehow more restrained than it usually did.

You sigh and fold your arms. "Fine."

All Carol does is nod.

--

It would take two earth days to reach his planet. Two. There'd been complications with the engine and so, it would take not the twenty four hours you expected, you know the time span that was customary for light travel, but it would take two days. Between that and the ship having to lower the heat to maintain proper oxygen levels, it wasn't fun.

"I could fly us there," Carol offers.

"Are you forgetting I can't breathe in space?"

Carol shrugs. "You replicate organic life right? Just replicate yourself a new pair of lungs."

"Fuck you."

She smirks, takes the only other available chair next to you. At first, she seems content to annoy you by tapping her fingers against the dashboard. Then, she grows bored. Worse, she tries to talk to you.

"Isn't all of this stuff automated?"

"Yes."

"So," she begins, stretching out the word. "You don't actually need to be here monitoring it. You can get on the cot." She shrugs. "Take a nap."

"I'd rather keep watch."

You think that'll be it and she'll be done, but she continues. You never would've pegged her as the type to not like silence. But, maybe that's not even it. Maybe, she just wanted to squeeze information out of you. God knows you weren't exactly open with the other Avengers when Fury made you join.

"You ever been to outer space?"

You shake your head. "When you're flagged as a global liability they tend to prefer you on the ground."

"A global liability? Is that what terrorists call themselves?"

"At least, we don't give ourselves cutesy nicknames like Black Widow or Captain Marvel."

She scoffs. "No. You guys just blow up innocent civilians."

"Yeah, I guess accidentally killing them is way better." You smile thinly. "For the greater good and all, you know?"

She stares at you long enough that you don't think she'll actually speak. Finally, she looks away and out to the empty abyss in front of you. "I don't pretend to know what the Avengers did while I was off-world. I see them now and they're good people."

You don't respond and she continues. "You must agree. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here."

"Fury said it was either this or experimentation."

"Fury didn't say that."

You laugh bitterly. "He didn't, but he didn't need to. The governments experiment on all mutants - that's how we got Steve and Wanda - they just don't talk about it anymore." You spare her a glance. There's nothing in her expression that would tell you what she's thinking. "So, I chose the Avengers. And here we are."

"You could've escaped."

"Where?" You lean forward in your seat and prop your elbow on the dash. "Please tell me. Where can someone who's wanted internationally hide?"

She squints her eyes. "I'd help, but unfortunately, my knowledge of ideal vacation spots is pretty limited."

Carol's lips seem to be trapped in a permanent smirk - the corner always tilted up in vaguely hidden amusement. Even now. Her snark never stops. You feel your own anger dissipate as quick as it came. There was no point being angry with her. She loved it. Fed off it like a parasite or leech.

"It's almost like you're trying to piss me off."

She places her elbow on the console, leaning forward to shrink the gap between you two.

"Would it make you more angry if I was?"

One time, you and the raccoon had a bet. Whose eyes were more blue: Captain America or Captain Marvel? Like this, you'd have to say Carol. Her eyes had their own halo wrapped around the rim, highlighting the blue and making it fluorescent.

You rub your lips together and lean back in your seat, turning away from her to once again, look at the controls.

The ship breaks down when you reach his planet. You and Carol spend the first ten minutes after landing, arguing back and forth, blaming eachother. The next fifteen, Carol leaves you. Fucks off like a glow stick and searches the planet. When she returns, you haven't moved. Haven't left. You opted instead to lie down in the flowers. It was a beautiful planet. Perfect for retirement. The air was pure, almost light enough to get high in.

"I found his cabin."

"Great." You jump up. The blood rushing to your head and spotting your vision briefly, almost enough to cause you to wobble. "Let's go."

She steps in front of you, quick. You stop just short of bumping into her. Your faces are inches apart. That same infuriating smirk on her lips. Your eyes dart down, down to her chest - she was quite muscular, you could see that even through her clothes-  down enough that she has to clear her throat.

"It's too far by foot." When your eyes meet, she's trying to not look smug.

You arch a brow. "Well, we can't fly."

"I'll have to carry you."

You groan.

"Believe me. I'd be more than willing to do anything else."

"Fine. Do it."

You step back and gesture at her to turn around. She rolls her eyes and in a breathe you didn't know you were holding, throws your arm around her shoulders, wraps her arms around your waist, and jumps. You scream. Through the rush of wind, you think you hear her laughing or perhaps, that's a lie and it's you. Laughing hysterically. No. You are screaming. Hitting her chest. And she's laughing. Fuck Natasha. Fuck Steve. When this is over, you're quitting.

When your feet touch the ground, you bend down and kiss it. Pray to it.

"Anyone ever tell you you're dramatic?" She asks.

"Anyone ever teach you about consent?"  

"You told me to do it."

"I don't care!"

The two of you spend hours looking for remnants of the stones before you finally give it up and return to the ship. You were careful not to drift too close to his cabin. The Avengers never recovered the body. The rot of Thanos was thick, enough to gag over if you got too close. This planet wasn't used to death, not the harsh meat of Thanos. It had been months and he was still there, newly rotting as if it had been a week or two.

"I'll look again tomorrow before we leave." Carol pops a chip in her mouth, her feet kicked on the co-pilot chair while you lounged on the cot. "For now, you should get your rest."

"Don't you need to sleep, too?"

"I have been." She gestures to the chair.

You stare. Frown. The chairs were nowhere near comfortable.

"We can switch. I'll just take the blanket," you offer reluctantly. The nights here were cold anyways. Much colder than space. You involuntarily shiver.

"I prefer to sleep sitting up."

"Is that a military thing?"

To your surprise, she laughs. "Why?"

You shrug the blanket higher - the thin layer providing little comfort. "Cap likes to do that too."

As the sky gets darker, the cold filters in the cracks of the ship and between the layers of your comforter. You snuggle tighter within yourself, curl your knees up to your chest, burrow your hands underneath your pits. When that doesn't work, you shift again. It was always something. The blanket doesn't cover your feet here. You're uncomfortable there.

"You still up?"

You peek up to glance at Carol. She's leaned back in the chair, her head propped back against the headrest. When you shift, she pops one eye open.

"It's cold," you respond. "Are you cold?"

She shakes her head. "Temperature stops being a concern when you get superpowers like mine."

"Oh, yeah. Forgot you're a glow stick."

She snorts. "You talk a lot of shit for someone whose close to being an icicle."

"Bravado under pressure. It's my best quality."

You think she's gonna retort with another snort, but she stays silent. You make a move to stand, but she stops you.

"It's colder over here. See." She breathes out and you can see the cloud of her breathe. You frown.

"I can't sleep like this."

You think she's gonna do something like procure a blanket or throw you her jacket. You even think she might use her powers to heat the ship. It would make sense. Now, that you thought about it - she could've flew your ship to Thanos's exact location. You open your mouth to say as much, maybe, even yell at her as well, but she surprises you by standing.

Her head tilts to the side. Her mouth opening and closing again as if she's mulling over her next words carefully. If it were brighter, you might say this is the closest to nervous you've ever seen her get.

"I could lay down next to you." You blink. "My body generates a certain amount of heat due to -"

"Your powers. Yeah, I get it."

Slowly, you scoot over in the small cot. There wouldn't be enough room. You'd be touching regardless, but if you didn't turn over, it'd be okay. You could pretend instead of Carol, it was some space heater next to you.

"Come," you order.

You feel her weight in the cot, the warmth of her sinking in and spreading across the fabric. It hasn't even been a minute and already the cold has been dissipated. You could sleep if you wanted to. But, you don't. No matter how much you had wanted to pretend she was just some space heater, she was Carol. She felt stiff like a board and she was unbearably loud in her stiffness, her unwillingness to move.

"You can relax you know," you mumble.

"I sleep on my side."

You wonder now if she's smirking.

"No one's stopping you from doing that."

She moves and you know without looking that she's facing you. Her breathe tickles the hair on the back of your neck. You wouldn't be able to sleep like this. She's thinking so loud that whatever thoughts she's having are sure to interrupt your dreams. You turn over towards her - your faces are a hair apart. She's not smirking. Her lips are parted and her eyebrows raised, her expression torn between surprise and delight.

"You're making it difficult to sleep," you say simply.

"Am I?" She retorts. There it is. She's grinning. "That sounds like a personal problem."

You don't take the bait. "You know why you're making it difficult?"

She shifts her head slightly to imply 'no'.

"You're too far away. I'm still cold," you say.

She arches one brow. "This is too far away for you?"

You nod.

She shifts closer. Close enough that there's no room for you to glance at her lips. There's only her eyes staring into yours.

"This good enough?" She whispers.

"No."

"You're proving difficult to please, Y/N." And you can tell she's trying to be smooth, but right now, you just want her to shut up.

You barely have time to open your mouth to say as much before she's kissing you. Pressing her soft lips to yours, her hand finding its way to your hip and resting there. She tugs you closer to her until your bodies are flush against one another. The soft pecks growing longer. Light sparks from her fingertips, burning the trim of your jacket. She fists it as she presses you into her. Her touch still gentle if demanding.

You pull away slowly to breathe. To catch air. You forget why when your lips stop touching.

"Been wanting to do that for awhile," she says with a smile.

"I didn't know I wanted to do it honestly," you respond because it's true. All you knew was that Carol was infuriating. Still is. Only now you want to kiss her, too.

"Really?" Carol asks. "You didn't know you wanted me?"

"You find that hard to believe?"

"I do," she grins. "You know the raccoon and Groot have a running bet on which one of us would crack first. Groot bet on me."

"Groot lost, then." You mean to kiss her, but she pulls back.

"You're the one who invited me into bed with you."

"Because you offered your services."

"Because you complained about being cold."

You groan, snuggle into her chest so you don't feel the need to respond to her. Thankfully, she stops. Her spare hand strokes your back and slowly, you drift into sleep.

[extraterracetrial]

hello fellow runners five/runner fives/idk, some of you seemed amused by my m36 post and i’m having fun and your :)s and shit are making me nervous so i thought i’d post some predictions/thoughts about the rest of s2 ranging from totally serious to not serious at all. i’m just gonna jot them down as they come to me and post this before i play m37. pls don’t say if they’re right or not tho

-8′s “dog bite” is actually a zombie bite and van ark gave her some experimental long term treatment for it. this one’s pretty serious but it’d also balance nicely with paula if she’s on his side purely because she believes in his cause so idk.

-alternately she volunteered for one of his experiments and her version turned out to be more stable and van arc’s and paula’s

-i think she might die? whether van ark lets her turn, she’s killed by the prisoners, 5 or another runner kill her in a fight, or something else, idk. i just kinda Have A Feeling. i hope not though, i am mad but i also think she’ll be a fun antagonist so i want her to hang around for a while.

-i don’t think anything’s gonna happen with paula anytime soon, but i’m starting to lose faith in her. i mean, she didn’t have to go through with the sabotage, even if she wanted to rescue 5. she also could’ve escaped with them, if 5 had time to get away so did she. van ark wouldn’t have found out she didn’t do it until they were both long gone.

-whatever was on that ship 8 was on comes back to bite abel and new canton in the ass. i’ve been Anticipating this since that mission but idk. it looks like the prison is gonna be the whole final arc of the season so unless it’s near the ocean i’m not sure how it would. then again “a disaster happens at abel while you’re gone and can’t get back” seems very in line for this game. anyway, i’ll be surprised if nothing ever comes of that

-the informant is someone from that ship. i still don’t know what happened to them and this is another thing i’d be surprised if nothing ever came of. maybe the captain, he seemed extra shady.

-8 kills the informant to keep them quiet and pins it on 5. i’m almost sure she’s gonna kill them, i mean, why wouldn’t she? she has everything to gain and nothing to lose. i’m sure most of abel (except maybe sam) will believe her over 5, she’s been there longer so i’m sure they trust her more. and she’s the major’s favorite 🙄

-i don’t really trust the major either but i don’t have much to say about that i just don’t like powerful people who hide things and are willing to sacrifice kids

-8 tries to kill 5? whether directly or just abandoning them in the prison, again, why wouldn’t she? 5′s the only one who knows for sure she’s the traitor. it does seem like van ark wants 5 alive though but like, i could be wrong or she might do it anyway, she seems to be building up to loose cannon territory.

-i don’t think abel will fall two seasons in a row but i wasn’t expecting the first one either sooooo... i dunno, 7 comes back, loses control of his plane/gets shot out of the sky, and crashes into the township ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-i do think 7 might come back at some point, but probably not this season

-“new canton gets rocket launchered by zombies” is too repetitive to happen but again, wasn’t expecting it the first time (i mean, i was expecting the rocket launchers to come back, but it was one of those super fun slow horrific realizations as it was happening). i wouldn’t be super surprised if it fell at some point though. it’d be pretty disastrous, there’s no way abel can take in every new canton resident.

-most likely though, i think 5 will end season 2 trapped in the prison or in van ark’s custody, with no way to contact abel. so no way to know if something happens to either town.

-also not a lot to say about this but i’m very excited to see what’s up with zombie len. obviously something’s different about him and i can’t wait to find out what it is

[mrs-tsunderemeitantei]

Recently, the author Gosho Aoyama has claimed that the ending of Haibara will be " Surprising" for everyone ?? What does that mean ?? It is not clear if it is a bad or good ending !!! Do you think that Haibara will never come back to her adult form as Miyano Shiho and stay as a kid.. and make a relationship with Mitsu ?? And if Haibara take the permanent antidote.. do you think that she will be punished and jailed since she was a member of BO?? or she dies in the end ??

Oh good God there is a lot to unpack here but thank you for your questions and I'm soo glad you brought them up! I’ll try to answer them as best as I can 😄

So yes, Gosho did say Haibara’s ending will surprise everyone but I also remember him saying Detective Conan’s ending will be happy. Not to mention Haibara is a veryyy popular character (if not the most popular female character on the show), so I find it hard to believe that she’ll just end up being killed off. I don’t think Gosho would do that to us.

Now when it comes to her remaining as a kid, I kind of talked about how I feel about it here . In short I believe she deserves to regain control of her life as Shiho and not remain as Haibara. Also this fan comic about Shiho explaining to Shinichi why she didn’t want to remain as Haibara is beautiful in every way and I think you should take a look at it. 

But to add to that, I refuse to believe she’s willing to remain as Haibara. Whenever people say she’ll get a chance to relive a proper childhood it irritates me 😂 I mean she’s still mentally an adult. I cannot imagine having to always act like a child, go to school and relive high school (diabolical if you ask me) when I’m mentally grown up. 

Personal opinions aside, there is one moment where it was hinted she’d be willing to stay as Haibara.  In the movie Captured in her Eyes she basically said she'd love to stay as Haibara IF she lost her memory. This is not canon and she did say after that she was joking but she tends to "joke" when she actually means what she says.

But since then, Haibara’s character has grown significantly. And these developments ⬇️ have me believing she's most likely going to take the antidote.

Jodie interpreted why Haibara refused the witness protection program was because she found a family in her friends. So with that logic, shouldn't that make sense for her to stay as Haibara? Ummm not really. She didn't just stay for the friendships, in fact she was so moved by Ayumi's words that she realised she has to face her fate and keep fighting. If she doesn't take the antidote, she's basically accepting what she was forced to become because of the organisation without facing her struggles and embracing her past. She'll technically be running away from her true self and erasing any link she has to her family whom she loves so much.

And tbh if Gosho decided she should lose her memory and remain a kid, I’ll be extremely disappointed. That would be a very poor and rushed ending and all her character developments would have been for nothing. Also I don't understand why some people equate her returning as Miyano Shiho to her cutting off the detective boys from her life. If anything, she'll probably continue living with the professor who she now looks up to as a father figure, while still remaining close and looking after the detective boys.

Now for the relationship with Mitsuhiko, I just can’t see how that can happen. He is a child for God’s sake! No matter how smart or responsible he is, he is still a CHILD. And whenever people say she should be with Mitsuhiko it makes me wonder, do they expect it to happen right now when she is still Haibara or are they saying when they eventually grow up? The first one is no way because she’s mentally an adult and he is a child and that is a crime waiting to happen. The second option means she’ll stay a child and I already expressed how I feel about that. Also I hate to break it to the AixMitsuhiko fans but Haibara loves all the detective boys like her younger siblings. She is the older sister / senpai of the group and she’s never displayed any romantic feelings for Mitsuhiko, nor do I think she’d develop them in the future simply because she views him as nothing but a baby brother.

Now on to the juiciest question that you asked, “Will she be jailed because she was an ex BO member?” I have a lot to say on this so please bear with me😁 

We now know that Rei was planning on handing her back to the BO in the Bell Tree Train arc (see here). Thankfully, that didn’t happen thanks to Conan’s big brain thinking making Rei believe that Shiho died. Now, he is yet to meet Haibara and discover the truth about her (I cannot wait for this to happen!) but when he does, this is how I imagine things will go down: 

He’ll despise her because he’ll think of her as a criminal who worked for the BO and developed a deadly drug. However, he won’t be able to hand her back to the BO since he was the one who confirmed her death. Handing her back would only have the BO question his credibility / loyalty and possibly jeopardise his future there. Therefore, he’s left with one option; take her into PSB custody and interrogate her. But, there’s no way Conan, the Kudo family and even quite possibly Akai would just stand aside and not intervene. At the same time, I doubt Rei will simply believe her if she said “she was forced to make a poison” (even Conan didn’t believe her when they first met). So how will he back off? These are my theories: 

I feel the tapes Elena recorded packed way more than just the drug’s true purpose. She may have also recorded what the organisation forced her and Atsushi to go through. And with the fact that Vermouth seemed to blame her animosity for Shiho on her parents, it is quite possibly Elena mentioned Vermouth on the tapes. If Haibara brings up those tapes and Rei heard them, first of all he’ll get closure (because he loved Elena as his own mother) and finding out about Vermouth’s link to the Miyanos, he can investigate them more. I don’t think it’ll be difficult for him to uncover the truth about her family especially since he knows Vermouth’s secret and that couldn’t have been easy.

If Haibara doesn’t bring up the tapes, I think Akai will step in by asking Rei to hand over Vermouth (since she’s an American citizen) if he wants to take Haibara. Rei would never agree to that because Vermouth provides him with invaluable help and support in the organisation, so he’ll be forced to let Haibara go.

And for my final theory, just like how the Kudo family struck a deal with Rei to work with Akai (I reeaallly want Gosho to reveal what their talk was about), they’ll probably do the same thing to protect Haibara and in time, Rei will learn the truth about her past. 

So basically in the end, I don’t think she’ll be arrested. I’d like to think once Rei learns the truth about her and her family’s past, he’ll be relieved to have received closure (because he loved Elena so much) and subsequently decide to protect Haibara. Also Gosho hinted Rei and Haibara will eventually get along so the probability of her being arrested is low.

Haibara’s ending is something I’m really looking forward to and I’ll be crushed if she isn’t given the ending she deserved (there is plenty of room for her ending to be ruined so fingers crossed that doesn’t happen). I picture her returning as Shiho, staying with the Professor, slowly warming up to Mary and Sera (I can’t begin to imagine how she’ll feel when she finds out they’re related) and maybe even go on to be a narcotics agent. Why narcotics agent? (All explained here ). When it comes to her love life, God knows what will happen, but the Mitsuhiko pair is highly unlikely to happen. Also, I don’t see why she has to end up with someone. Her happy ending doesn’t necessarily mean she’ll be with someone. In fact...

Having a family and friends she cares about. 

Being free to live her life without constantly looking over her shoulder

Confronting Gin for killing her sister and whatever history they shared (I’m so mad GinxSherry has fizzled out without being answered. I need to know the truth about their past!!)

Finding peace and accepting her past

....are all enough reasons to give her the happy ending she deserves to have.

I hope this long speech helped answer your questions 😂. I honestly enjoyed writing it so, thank you so much for letting me do this 🖤😁

[neonthewrite]

Field Trip

Another contest prize! The request this time was for some quality fluff between Jacob Andris, a human, and Vel, a young wood sprite of Wellwood. Jacob is the gentlest giant around, so it's no wonder that little sprite wanted to hang out with him!

Reading time ~5-10 minutes

~~~~~

Jacob smirked when Bowman flitted towards him. As he predicted, the fussy sprite wasted no time scolding him. “Could you be any more of a stompy giant?!” he complained, banking in a wide arc around Jacob’s long, striding gait. “You’ll scare everyone off before you even show up.”

Jacob had put a lot of work into walking carefully enough to avoid that exact situation. Even knowing he could do more, he was confident in his skills. Naturally, that did nothing to stop Bowman from scolding him. Jacob would worry about the little guy if he ever kicked that habit. “Nah, I won’t,” he countered. “I had you to warn everyone I was coming. They know I’m on the way. Bet I’ll even have a big welcome party.”

Bowman scoffed. “Welcome party or not, you’re blasted loud, Jacob. No storm clouds to be seen and yet there’s thunder.”

That earned another chuckle from Jacob. “Dude, what’s got you so worked up? Trying to convince people you trained a giant again?”

Bowman groaned, and Jacob spotted the look on his face before he could flit away. “Bowman, you don’t need to fret about it. I’ll be on my best behavior, like I always am. No one will find a reason to scold you, at least not from me.”

Another little scoff. This time, Bowman swooped close so he could land on Jacob’s shoulder. With his perch claimed, he finally admitted “Fine. You’re right. But if someone gets upset, I might just get chased out of the village. Last visit a nestling climbed into your hood but I’m the one who got bopped for it!”

Jacob laughed, though he tried to rein it in with Bowman perched on him. “Dude, they wouldn’t do that. And if they did, you can just chill with me. That’s not so bad, right?”

“Ha. If any nestling gets in trouble, I’m pointing at you, giant.”

Jacob rolled his eyes, but wasn’t surprised. “And if someone tries to bop you, I’ll probably have to let ‘em. Wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m not trained, right?”

“Oh, climb a dead tree. And then behave. We’re almost there.”

~~~

Jacob had visited Wellwood several times before. It never went as badly as Bowman assumed it might, though not for lack of griping. Most of the residents of the village trusted Jacob to be near their vulnerable homes; he’d stood up for them against other humans before, after all. He protected the secret even from his own family. Even those who were still wary of him didn’t begrudge others a chance to visit with him. Jacob had no intention of forcing someone to be around him if they didn’t want to, anyway. He had plenty of visitors as it was.

True to his word, he behaved well. He put up a calm front for Bowman, but in reality Jacob was careful to watch every move. He didn’t want to break that fragile trust he’d built up with the wood sprites of Wellwood.

While some of the younger sprites came to see Jacob, with their parents nearby just in case, Bowman had spent some time wheeling about in the air, chasing or being chased by other sprites his age. It was a pleasantly uneventful afternoon, as far as Jacob was concerned.

He made his way back to his clearing near dinnertime. While the sprites all wandered home to eat, Jacob wanted to be well away from the village. Seeing him eat made them nervous sometimes, and it made him feel awkward. He’d go have his dinner at his camp and the sprites needn’t be bothered.

The clearing, his temporary residence whenever he visited, was just as he’d left it earlier. His tent waited to one side with some firewood piled next to it. A plastic cooler sat in the shade next to a bucket for water. He had a sturdy line tied between two trees to hang up some of his other belongings, particularly food he didn’t want some forest critter to drag away.

He took a few steps towards that line only to halt in surprise at the sound of a giggle. The sound startled him enough that he swayed in place from the sudden stop. It was not a sound he expected out here, not with the village so far behind him.

“Alright, very sneaky,” he said to the open air before looking down at the pocket on the front of his hoodie. An innocuous pouch of fabric, it fascinated most of the sprites that encountered it. They didn’t have pockets on their clothes at all, so he didn’t have to wonder why.

Gingerly, Jacob reached a hand into the pocket, wary of bumping into tiny wings at the wrong angle. A small figure shifted away from his fingers and another giggle emitted from the pocket, and he couldn’t help a faint smile of his own. Whoever it was, they were young and quite pleased with themself for their deception.

A deception Jacob would take the blame for, he was certain.

“C’mere, kiddo,” he said, scooping his hand beneath the miniscule sprite and ferrying them out into the open. Little movements fluttered on his palm as they settled, and before he even had them in view he felt little hands clinging to his thumb for stability.

It turned out to be one of the nestlings, an absolutely tiny child with wings too small to do more than flutter along on the ground. His light brown hair was mussed and staticky from the pocket, and his wings stretched out as soon as he was back in the sunlight. He grinned at Jacob as he rose to eye level with the would-be giant. “Hi, Jacob! I was hiding!”

“I noticed,” Jacob replied, amusement coloring his voice. “You’re … Vel, right?”

If possible, the boy’s grin brightened. “Yeah! I’m Vel! I wanted to see your, um, your camp! So I was real sneaky.”

That exuberance was hard to deny, so Jacob only shook his head ruefully. “You don’t need to be sneaky to come visit me here, Vel. I’m sure your parents wouldn’t mind bringing you, but you should have asked so they’d know where you went.”

The boy stuck out his lip in a defiant pout, and his little wings flared open in a show of confidence despite the way his arms still wrapped around Jacob’s curled thumb. “But I wanted to be sneaky! And my mama wouldn’t have said yes, not when it’s dinnertime. But I thought, maybe, I could just have dinner here! Then when we go back she won’t get upset!”

Oh she’ll be mad alright, Jacob thought. Just probably not at you. It looked like Bowman’s worrying earlier would come to pass and Jacob would earn a few tiny bops.

He looked over his shoulder as if he might see a pair of angry sprite parents darting out of the woods right then and there. When he looked back, he was met with some very potent puppy eyes from Vel. “Okay,” he conceded, earning another enthusiastic grin. “But you’ll have to be good, and you have to promise me you won’t hide in my pocket again, okay? It’s not safe for you to be in there without me knowing.”

Vel nodded vigorously. “Okay! Yeah! I’ll be good, Jacob, I promise!”

“Good, we don’t want to make your mom worry any more than she already will,” Jacob replied with a faint smile.

Jacob had no doubts the kid would do his best, but really the responsibility all rested with him. He sighed and determined not to let that thought worry him; it wasn’t like he would let Vel wander into something dangerous, and the kid really couldn’t go all that far on his own. His wings were still small, occasionally fluttering involuntarily.

He moved his hand closer to his chest, offering his tiny guest better stability as he continued towards his hanging food bags. “You might end up having a dinner of human food, I can’t remember everything I brought,” he warned.

Vel didn’t seem worried. “Yay! Is it candy?”

Jacob had to chuckle at that. He grabbed one of his bags down from the line and made his way to his dormant campfire to have a seat. “No, I’m not gonna feed you candy for dinner,” he chided. “You need something healthier to make sure those wings grow big and strong.”

Vel pouted up at him, but didn’t have any further arguments. He clung tighter to Jacob’s thumb as he settled himself on the ground. He watched the sturdy food bag curiously, eyeing the zipper as Jacob opened it up.

First things first, Jacob rummaged in the bag with his free hand until he found a handkerchief, little more than a worn swatch of cloth he’d meant to use as a napkin. This he set on the ground before finally lowering Vel down. “Here you go, bud. You can sit here so you’re not right in the dirt, sound good?”

Vel scooted himself to the edge of Jacob’s hand, pausing to survey the offered picnic blanket before he hopped down. His wings fluttered and his arms shot out to his sides so he could prevent a stumble, and then he grinned proudly up at Jacob. “Thanks, Jacob! It’ll be fun! I’m gettin’ hungry! What’re we gonna have?”

Jacob couldn’t help an endeared smile. He gently nudged at Vel’s tiny stomach, earning a burst of giggles. “Hungry, huh? Let’s see what I have, maybe we can fill that tummy right up.”

“I betcha have a lot,” Vel mused, dropping to a seat while Jacob searched through his bag. “That bag is big enough for a whole house! Maybe two!”

“It’s pretty big alright,” Jacob agreed. “Gotta have a lot so I don’t run out while I’m visiting. Then I’d have to eat leaves, and those don’t fill me up as well as they do for you sprites.”

Vel giggled some more, but was distracted from responding when Jacob produced a few clear baggies from the large canvas bag. Raisins, granola, trail mix, and a few other things that kept well were separated into the bags; Jacob set aside a few that definitely wouldn’t work (thankfully Vel didn’t notice the M&Ms in the trail mix before it was out of sight again). Jacob picked out a raisin and a broken shard of a banana chip, thinking they’d be plenty to get the kid started.

He held them out and Vel, his eyes wide, took both in his hands with an endearing kind of reverence. “Thanks, Jacob! These look really good! This … what’s this yellow thing?”

Jacob helped himself to some granola, but before eating any he explained the food for Vel. “The yellow thing is a dried piece of a banana. It’s a kind of fruit. The other thing is called a raisin. It’s a dried berry. They’re still good like that, I promise.”

Vel wrinkled his nose in thought, then eyed up the two unusual fruits in his lap. “That sounds like winter food,” he pointed out. “But they’re not cold!”

"Nah," Jacob agreed, keeping an eye on the fascinated little sprite. "Maybe they were cold when someone dried them out. I don't know how they make 'em."

Vel nibbled at the banana chip and pondered it. Jacob took the kid's distraction as a chance to sneak a few more bites of granola. Vel didn't seem as worried about it as most of the adult sprites, but Jacob didn't plan to take any chances upsetting him. The kid had an innocent trust in the would-be giant in his midst. Breaking that trust would be deplorable.

After a few minutes of quiet, Vel finally had a verdict. "I like this banana thing," he announced, holding up the piece he'd barely made a dent in. "You said it wasn't gonna be candy, but this is just as good as candy! It’s kinda hard but I don't mind 'cause it's really yummy!"

"Well, good," Jacob said with an endeared smile. "It’s good for you. Much better for those wings than candy would be " To punctuate his claim, Jacob nudged one of Vel's fluttering wings with a fingertip.

Vel squirmed away on his makeshift picnic blanket, clutching his banana chip close to his chest as he did. “Wait, wait, I wanna try the other thing too!” he said in between giggles.

Jacob relented and nodded pointedly at the raisin Vel had left behind in his scrambling. “Oh, that thing right there? I thought you were leaving it for me.”

Vel gasped and dove for it. “Nooo, I still want it! I promise!”

“Alright,” Jacob conceded, doing his best put-upon expression. “Go ahead and try it out. Whatever you don’t manage to fit in your tummy can go home with ya, okay? Maybe your parents would like it.”

And maybe a peace offering will get me out of trouble, he amended silently.

Vel fidgeted to settle himself comfortably again. “Yeah! I bet they’d like to try it. Winter food that isn’t cold is so weird!”

Jacob hummed thoughtfully. “I bet it is,” he said, sneaking some more of his own food while Vel was preoccupied. “I wonder what your mom and dad will say about it.”

~~~

Soon enough, it was time to head back to the village. The sky was turning orange at the edge of the horizon. No matter the begging faces he got, Jacob’s resolve only wavered a bit. He really couldn’t let the kid stay out too long without his parents knowing where he was.

Arriving back at the village, he had a feeling he knew which of the trees held Vel’s home. A number of adult sprites fluttered around it in agitated patterns. They barely noticed his return to the village.

Until he cleared his throat. “Um. Hey, guys.” He held up his hand, fingers curled for the security of the nestling sitting on his palm. “I had someone sneak back to my clearing with me when I left for dinner.” Vel waved at the nonplussed adults.

Several of them darted over to Jacob, heedless of his size. Among them was none other than Bowman himself, who came to a hover right before Jacob’s face. “What did I tell you about behaving?!” he scolded.

Jacob blinked and leaned back. “I did behave! Vel here is very sneaky. So I gave him some dinner before bringing him home.”

Vel was grinning at a sprite woman that had landed right on Jacob’s hand to check on him. “I was so sneaky, mama!” he announced. “We had fun! Jacob let me keep the leftovers!”

At least he had Vel to smooth things over. Jacob could tell by Bowman’s narrowed eyes that he’d be bopped later. “It was just a little field trip. Won’t happen again without permission, I promise.”

“It better not,” Bowman warned, as if that was all it took to keep a nestling from misbehaving and landing Jacob in trouble.

[pillage-and-lute]

The Courting Ways of Wolves (Part 2)

It’s back! Dumb boys in love! Also Grandpa Vesemir gets some feels and Geralt does some math. Part 1, (here) Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Epilogue

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Watching Winter at Kaer Morhen melt into early spring was always a beautiful process, but this year brought Geralt trepidation as well. Watching Ciri train had been wonderful, helping her learn the basics kept all the wolves on their toes, for the first time in many years actually thinking about motions that normally came from muscle memory. 

Yennefer had flourished into her role as “Aunty Yen,” not sweetly nurturing, the way one often thought about with children, but a clever tongue and tough love that Ciri, granddaughter of the Lioness, seemed completely at home with. 

Geralt was doing his best too. Ciri had started calling him dad about halfway through the winter, the first time happening at dinner and he’d very nearly choked on his ale. It sent something warm running through his veins every time, like good brandy that burned all the way down. 

He was trying, words still didn’t come naturally, but somehow Ciri always seemed to be able to see exactly what he meant. Maybe it was Destiny, maybe just a hurt, lost child clinging to whoever was consistent in her life, but Geralt hoped it was more. More than anything, he hoped Ciri truly understood how cared for she was, not just by himself, but all the wolves, Jaskier, and Yennefer.

Ciri had whispered to him one day, still panting after training, asking if he thought Yen would mind if she called her mom.

Geralt had replied that he didn’t think Yennefer would mind at all.

Yennefer came to him later, a tender look in her eyes. There was something, not fragile in her eyes, but Jaskier had pointed out in a marketplace once, a beautiful porcelain vase that had been broken and artfully repaired with gold. Yen’s expression reminded him of that. 

They sat for a while, then Yennefer said, “Will you be able to let go of her in the spring?” 

“Yes,” Geralt said, although he was less than sure that parting from Ciri would be so easy. “She needs you, and time away from me. And to be around women.”

Yennefer nodded, gave Geralt a pat on the shoulder, and left. Geralt stayed, cloak wrapped around him as he sat looking out over the walls. 

There was much that would happen in the spring, and his life, which had been pretty stagnant before, was changing more in these past few years than it ever had. He felt like Kaer Morhen itself, built to last and yet crumbling still, the weight of change and time and destiny tearing down walls. 

He watched the sun go down. 

Vesemir joined him, carrying two bowls of stew. Geralt took a bite of his and winced. It had been Eskel’s turn to cook. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Vesemir’s mustache twitch with a hint of a smile. They ate the oversalted meal in silence.

“You know,” Vesemir said, and in the starlight the crags on his face looked carved in. “I come up here to think too.” 

Geralt knew, but Vesemir wasn’t interested in talking about the battlements, he could tell. 

“I think, most nights, about the ghosts within these walls. All of the little boys who died so that the School of the Wolf could be.” The wind picked up, howling like, with an excellent sense of the dramatic, a wolf. 

“The Trials haunt me, Geralt. More than anything in my life, and it has been a long life indeed.” 

“You saved me,” Geralt said. “Saved Eskel.” But he too remembered the still bodies carried out and buried in the night. How few boys remained. Remembered the screaming in the night, unsure how much of the sound was torn from his own throat, and what came from his brothers dying around him.

“I let them put you through it twice. That wasn’t salvation, lad.” Vesemir sighed. “I couldn’t have put a stop to the Trials, don’t know if I would have if it were possible, there have to be Trials to be witchers, and the world needs us, whatever it may believe. But maybe there was a better way. A kinder way. You were boys, little lads who went through so much pain.”

Geralt was startled to see a tear fall down the craggy face, burying in the moustache. Witchers could cry, but it happened rarely, tears could blur vision in a fight, and only very strong emotion, the sort they had been taught to suppress,  could override the mutations. 

And then Vesemir put an arm around Geralt’s shoulder and gave him an oddly nice hug. It could have cracked a boulder.

“Someone should have held you boys more,” Vesemir said, a touch abashedly. They looked out over the walls some more and Geralt wondered if the conversation was over, but Vesemir didn’t take the arm away.

“Ciri called me Grandpa today.”

Ah. That would explain a lot. Watching Vesemir interact with Ciri over the winter had been a delight and a surprise to the wolves. He’d even sat her on his knee and told her stories of when Lambert, Eskel, and Geralt were young like a, well, like a doting grandfather. Jaskier had been enthralled as well, naturally, but seeing Vesemir so soft, and sometimes looking a little sad, around Ciri, had been an education for the men who would always think of themselves as ‘Vesemir’s Little Lads’.

“She won’t be a witcher,” Vesemir said. “Couldn’t be even if we would want it, and I never would.”

“No,” Geralt said.

No,” agreed Vesemir. They looked out over the darkened landscape.

“I never wanted a family,” Vesemir said after a while where their breaths hung in the air before them. “‘O course, witchers aren’t supposed to, but you’ve built a nice little family for yourself, laddie. It’s not as may be, not like you’d find in villages or in your pet bard’s fancy songs. But you’ve a brave and rather headstrong daughter, and she has a mum, and a dad, and two already very protective uncles.”

“And a grandpa,” Geralt cut in.

“And a grandpa,” Vesemir agreed. “But a family needs a little more than that. There’s gotta be someone to teach the lass how to love.”

Geralt was about to protest that he’d seen plenty of loveless marriages, but then considered the results in the children. Jaskier was one, he knew. The sort of lost way Jaskier sucked up approval, when they’d first met, the way he’d drank up compliments like a man with water in the desert, whenever Geralt thought on it there was a sort of humming ache. He’d consulted with Eskel on the feeling, concerned it was illness. Apparently, it was just what happened when someone you loved was hurting and it wasn’t something you could kill or fix.

“It doesn’t need to be romantic love,” Vesemir said, obviously seeing Geralt’s face. “And she’ll know how to love family fine, and how to love friends, as you and Yennefer figure that out between the two of you. But your bard loves you, and the way you love him can teach her how to love others and herself. And if Ciri has another dad maybe you can worry less.”

Geralt chuckled. Ciri could have fifty parents, and Geralt would still lose sleep worrying. Vesemir smiled back at him, eyes crinkling and moustache lifting like a bristle brush that had learned to fly. Then he slapped Geralt on the back, and Geralt, the White Wolf of Rivia, Butcher of Blaviken, the witcher who had twice survived the Trials, felt his spine compress like a spring and he was sure he felt a rib creak.

“Love Jaskier, lad. Hold tight to him. We rarely get good things.”

Then Vesemir walked back inside and Geralt stared after him. There weren’t many old witchers, dangers of the job and all that, but Vesemir was proof that witchers, like oak wood, only solidified with age. 

Geralt followed him inside. 

The next days passed in a flurry of activity. Ciri had been let off of training with the wolves to pack for her journey with Yennefer, and to be quickly given the rundown of the basics of magic. The wolves were packing as well, preparing to leave Kaer Morhen. In between final preparations and weapon repair, Geralt checked over The List.

The List was supposed to help him court Jaskier. It was the combined brainchild of everyone (except Jaskier, of course) at Kaer Morhen. More importantly, his intention to court Jaskier met with Ciri’s approval. 

When the day arrived, Geralt felt a curious lump in his throat. He watched Ciri say goodbye to Eskel and Lambert, the latter picking her up and swinging her in an arc, letting her joyful whoop echo about the courtyard. Then she hugged Vesemir, and he crushed her very gently to him. And then she turned to him and Jaskier. 

He was thankful that Ciri bade Jaskier goodbye first, watching the bard wipe a surupticious tear away as he held the blonde girl. It was Geralt’s turn and he didn’t know what to do. He cleared his throat.

“Follow Yennefer’s instructions,” he said. That didn’t seem like enough. “And don’t talk to strangers,” he said. It still seemed insufficient but he was out of advice so he stuck out his hand to shake. Ciri laughed and leapt at him, throwing her arms around his neck.

He held her there, reveling in hugging his daughter, his child surprise, who was so full of surprises and he felt, for the first time in many years, the feeling of rather full tear ducts. He blinked them away. 

“Good luck,” Ciri whispered in his ear. Jaskier wouldn’t have heard, but the witchers with their enhanced hearing surely had. Geralt nodded and set her down.

He coughed awkwardly and pulled out a little packet wrapped in burlap and some rough twine. Ciri beamed and pulled at the string so that the packaging fell away. A long piece of metal, bent into a thin U shape lay in his palm, the ends were surprisingly sharp. Ciri picked it up and examined it, then looked up at him questioningly. 

“Hair pin,” Geralt said gruffly. “For your hair. And stabbing.” He mimed a clumsy, underhanded stab. “Eskel helped me silver plate it. For monsters. But also men, if they’re close enough.” He trailed off, knowing he sounded awkward. Who gave a self defense implement as a gift?

Ciri beamed at him again. “I love it,” she said, also miming a few stabs. He supposed that as a parent he shouldn’t be so proud of the light in his daughter’s eyes when she talked about stabbing, but he was almost certain that she got that trait from Jaskier, who tended to get...pointed about disagreements in pubs.

Yennefer stepped forward and carefully took the hair pin from their daughter, swooping her silver blonde hair back into a twist and sliding it in place. She placed a hand on Ciri’s shoulder and smiled at Geralt, and he was reminded again of that vase, stronger and more beautiful for the cracks in the facade. She then gave him a quick side hug and and even one for Jaskier, and opened a portal.

Geralt stared after his friend and his daughter long after the portal closed, until Jaskier, hand wrapped in a heavy mitten, gently took his wrist. They waved to the other wolves, and left, Roach walking obediently alongside. 

And then it was just the two of them. Again. Just like the last twenty years. That thought occupied him as they made it down the Killer. The path down from Kaer Morhen was deadly, but that year Geralt made it down without thinking, keeping half a thought to Jaskier’s ambling form as he went.

How old was Jaskier? 

He’d been eighteen or so when they met. Eighteen plus twenty-two was forty. Forty wasn’t that old for a human but Jaskier didn’t look too much different than he had at...Geralt did the math. Twenty-five? But there were signs. A few lines here and there, although Jaskier was insistent about his skincare. A line of silver, just a few hairs, probably unnoticable except to Geralt’s enhanced eyes. He was aging better than a human should.

Or perhaps not. Time was tricky for witchers, never staying in one place, never knowing people long enough to watch them age, he didn’t really know what to compare Jaskier to. 

He did know how long humans lived though. And at the base of the mountain he came to a resolution, felt it settle in to his bones as deep as his mutations, deeper, even. 

Twenty years, or nearly, where he hadn’t known Jaskier. Twenty more where he hadn’t admitted they were friends, or that he loved him. Eighty years in a human life span. And Geralt would love Jaskier, and make sure he knew he was loved, for the next four decades, give or take. He looked at his companion, paused as they were to give their feet and Roach a rest. The weak, watery sun of the early spring day fell on Jaskier’s face, dappled through the branches, which as of yet held no buds.

He pictured lines appearing, laugh lines, smile lines, crinkles carving themselves into the landscape of the familiar features. He pictured silver through the hair, more, in thicker streaks at the temples. Geralt saw a lifetime, Jaskier’s lifetime, in an instant. Silver covered warm brown, strong legs grew shakey, lines crowned a forehead and swept about clear eyes. 

What would happen, Geralt thought, when Jaskier could no longer keep up? But Geralt knew what would happen. He’d take Jaskier to Kaer Morhen, or go with him to Oxenfurt, and spend his days with him. It had been a few short months since he’d realized he was in love with Jaskier, but that was only because Geralt’s skill with emotions was roughly similar to Jaskier’s apparent self preservation. Why had he let the lad talk to him in a pub? Had he loved him then? He remembered the shock of not being feared, of looking into clear, bright eyes and seeing admiration, the fierce protectiveness that had flared when he woke and saw the fool tied to him in an elven lair. Had it been love? 

Watching Jaskier whisper softly to Roach as snow melted around him, Geralt was sure it had been. Destiny, Fate, the two bit tart who kept fucking him over, had given him his greatest blessing in a form that Geralt, up until that very second had considered a myth. Love at first sight. Love had brought him Jaskier, and Ciri, and a fast friendship with the most powerful mage on the Continent. Love had brought him a family in the form of a wayward bard with bread in his pants. And Geralt had forty more years to cherish him. 

Step One the list had said in Eskel’s clear writing. Kiss his hand. Being mindful of Step Two, to mind his manners, Geralt crossed the clearing to Jaskier and took the thick woolen mitten in his gloved hand. 

“May I?” he said. Jaskier gave him a baffled look, but nodded.

Geralt pressed chapped lips to a palm wrapped in knitted wool, and Jaskier smiled, albeit a little confusedly. It didn’t matter. Geralt wanted to spend the next forty years wrapped in that smile. 

Then Jaskier asked him if he was feeling well.

[shes-an-oddbird]

A Very long list of Season 5 Predictions/Wish List

I tried to hit as many of the characters as possible so this is really really long

The trickiest thing about this show seems to be the ever growing cast creating several stories at once and the fact that it’s a show about first responders so even characters that don’t seem like they would follow that career choice end up there and those that don’t sometimes feel out of place.

This is not to say that I don’t LOVE AND ADORE FIREFIGHTER ALBERT HAN! (but really kind of thought it came out of nowhere and yet I’m not surprised because what else were they going to do with him?)

It seems unlikely they’d assign Albert to the 118 unless Bobby requests him like he did with Eddie, but I think Bobby might have some hesitations about that. They’re already as close as family and sometimes make dangerous decisions because of it. He might feel its better for Albert to be with a different fire house or maybe Chimney would.

But he’s a regular so putting him with the 118 would be the best way to give him screen time

I personally think he’ll be assigned to the 133 since we’ve seen a bit of them this season. I’d love if there was a fun rivalry between the two firehouses (whichever one Albert ends up at.) I’ve said it before that the 118 is probably notorious at this point for the weird situations they get into. The teasing and the taunting would just be so much fun to watch. Albert talking to Chim or Buck and just being like, so the guys told me about this time…

Actually can we take a moment to appreciate that the 118 got ANOTHER firetruck destroyed and this one wasn’t even theirs. The 133 spends FIVE MINUTES with Buck and Eddie and their truck is in shambles.

On a more serious note, we might meet Chimney and Albert’s dad. I’m thinking he’s not going to be thrilled about his youngest joining the fire department and show up to talk some sense into him and scold Chimney for letting him do it.

I’m so confused about how much time has passed? How long does it take to become a firefighter? They must have some sort of plan for him because cutting out him going through training seems like a lost opportunity. It’s a story we haven’t really seen through anything but montages. Is it difficult? Would he try to quit? I’d have liked to see him making the decision in the first place.

putting the rest under here because its really a lot

We’ll also miss Eddie recovering (and Bobby too actually), which I’m a little bummed about but not devastated. It sounds like we won’t see much in the way of the effects of either shooting but can’t do anything about that now unless they flash back and have them work towards that moment on the roof.

My biggest concern with the time jump is missing literally any of Maddie’s story. I don’t know much about PPD or if its called recovery or overcoming it but I do want to see Maddie work through that and Chimney and the others supporting her.

I think her leaving the dispatch center will be temporary but it may take half or all of next season for her to return.

Maybe she’ll take over for May, if she does go off to school

Or May might continue working at Dispatch and going to school.

If she doesn’t go to school Athena is not going to be very happy with her. But maybe we could get Maddie and Josh being big siblings to May which is an underappreciated dynamic. Maybe it will help Maddie cope with how useless she’s feeling with Jee.

I’ll need to rewatch to see if they say what May wants to do but maybe she’ll study journalism or something that will keep her in the loop of the main characters the way it does Taylor.

And speaking of Taylor, she is actually a very interesting character, whether you like her (morally) or not. I think we’ll see more of her in season 5 and I genuinely think she’ll fall hard for Buck. And I think everyone needs to chill about how it’ll destroy her character.  We’ve already established that Taylor is like the female version of Buck (with a bit more sense maybe but a mirror if him non the less). If Buck is allowed to grow and want an actual relationship, is anyone really surprised they’d have Taylor go through that too.

She’s just a few steps behind, like he’s in relationship phase and she’s just coming to terms with her own feelings for him

My big concern, since they like to break Buck’s poor little heart, is that she’ll leave. She’ll get a job opportunity and pick it over Buck. I think it would be a hard decision for her but in character. Or maybe they’ll surprise us and make Buck and Taylor endgame (I know a lot of people don’t want to hear that but I could see it happening that way)

On the flip side I don’t know what’s going to happen with Eddie and Ana. I know she’s pretty much hated but its super unclear what the plan is other than that they’ll eventually break up per what Carla implied. I suspect they’ll be together for a bit of season five until Eddie figures out what’s up with what his heart wants. I don’t think Ana is some awful witch so the break up will probably be mutual or at the very least Ana won’t be surprised.

But hopefully we get more than just that as far as Eddie goes. The episodes we do get that are focused on him are really some of my favorites. They are wrapping up his moving on from Shannon arc which is cool. The trying to be a good father to Christopher will always be there, that’s something that will never change and always be a growing/learning experience.

I’d love to meet one or both of Eddie’s sisters. They don’t have to stick around long term like Albert did but to have them pop up with some crisis would be interesting and we could learn more about Eddie and the dynamic with his family which seems loving but strained.

Maybe we will see Eddie working more with Hen too. I was wondering if they’d make Eddie a full paramedic to take over for her eventually, which I decided they probably won’t do. But one episode of Buck distressed over the fact that he and Eddie wouldn’t be partners anymore would be fun drama.

The two really are just at a loss without each other and I love that. They get so pouty when they’re apart.

I don’t know what other plans they might have for Buck next season. I suspect we’ll see him worrying over Maddie and I’d kill to see him watching Jee-Yun.

I don’t know how old she’ll be because of the time jump but can you imagine Buck watching the baby and it just being an absolute disaster. So he starts calling everyone in a panic and we get firefam taking care of Baby Jee, maybe while Chim and Maddie are at a therapy session or just a weekend away for themselves.

I’m convinced the Baby would love Eddie. I think its just me projecting my desire for Eddie and Maddie to interact more. But like Hen teasing him because of course the baby loves him, all the girls love Eddie, he’s got the pretty face. Buck being super jealous that Jee likes him more. Eddie being genuinely surprised because he felt like such a failure when Chris was a baby. 

Denny, Harry and Christopher are all getting older too so there has got to be a story there with at least one, if not all of them. Harry was sidelined this season but I love that kid, he is the spawn of Athena and Michael and we already know he’s a little trouble maker. Match that with Christopher who is sassy and too smart for his own good and Denny who is clearly the good kid of the bunch. I don’t know, it’s another lost opportunity if they don’t do something with that.

They could assign Karen and Hen an older foster kid who’s maybe not such a good influence at first. Unless they opt for just younger ones, I’m not really sure how that works. But they could get one that’s not as easy as nia and they have to work for that bond.

Might be they adopt them at the end

I hope we see more of Hen’s mom and med school friends but not like a crazy amount. The cast is already too big but I love them so an occasional appearance would be welcome.

I love David and Michael too but they always seem like the hardest to work in because, as stated, they are not first responders. David is a doctor though so maybe we’ll see some interaction with him and Hen. And all the Bobby and Michael content is welcome.

I NEED A WEDDING NEXT SEASON! Just pick a pair and marry them please!!! Maddie and Chimney!!! Michael and David!!! Someone, please! Even just a proposal?! Maybe? Please?

And there will be another crossover event which is exciting because I really enjoyed the first one. I wonder if they’ll come to LA this time and what would bring them there. With the scheduling of the shows next season they won’t have to tie them together so much time frame wise. They literally could just be popping in for a visit. I’m not gonna lie when I thought about another crossover I really wanted Bobby the self-taught chef to meet Charles the actual chef but now I can’t have that and it makes me so sad.

Putting all this out there is a really good way to insure it never happens, but still, they seem like logical places to go as of the finale.