#any time spent thinking about a celebrity in any context is a time that could be spent infinitely more productively.

[snekdood]

idk the whole "standing up to celebrities" thing seems kinda useless, I mean, did you really think they were gonna like save you in dire times or something? fuck no. the celebrities are wastes of time and energy, focus on the real target which is politicians, celebrities are a waste of space tbr

[introsquirrel]

Rereading murderbot (again) and just got to art's introduction.

And like, art doesn't play nice with other bots. It bullies them, it intimidates them, it will hurt other bots to get what it wants if it doesn't want to waste time hacking it.

And it tries that with mb. I mean, info secunits is probably like 80% propaganda, 15% corporate promotions, and 5% actual development and research, almost exclusively focusing on what they are designed for and how they got there.

It's out there, about to start a boring transport/recon mission, and one of the most dangerous and feared entities basically jogs up to it and goes "hi, I'm a friendly bot, like super friendly, totally nothing suspicious here. Can I have a ride? Here's a GIANT file of pirated media"

And it's still a bot, just a bot with organic parts. Art is a research vessel and it's curious, and this is a rare opportunity to get info on secunits, which are probably a huge pain in the ass to deal with on its missions, with almost no practical info about them. Also, this might be an indication that someone has caught on to its antics and it probably wants to nip that in the bud.

And it turns out the huge file of pirated media isn't secretly a virus or malware, and looking at it's movements, Art can see that it isn't actively hostile towards humans. Unexpected, but hey. Points to this weird construct. But that might not be it's goal.

And then it sits down and starts sorting and watching media so art is like alright, it's obviously not here to fuck me up and it has no idea what the hell I am. Let's make sure this moderately dangerous condtruct doesn't get any funny ideas.

I don't think art was going for friendly in the slightest. I think to wanted to scare mb to make sure it didnt try anything. I think it expected mb to get pissed or argue.

But mb basically shuts down. It stops everything and huddles into a chair and i imagine that it does its best impression of a secunit in stasis.

And when art is like "I mean, don't fuck with me, but you can still watch your TV shows" mb responds with something that would not be in construct research outside of very clinical and vague explanation.

It shows art that it expects art to hurt it. And it's shows that it can be hurt, that it has been hurt, and that it probably has some trauma related to this hurt. It also probably accidentally added some context to the punishment recordings. I'll bet mb was punished for not wanting to hurt it's clients.

And art... well, mb said in the first book that being half human half bot isn't two conflicting sides, but just a whole of what it is. It isn't human, it isn't a bot. It is the culmination of both. A sentient entity that was developed by humans for slavery and spent its entire existence being punished for having free will.

Art is also a sentient entity that was developed by humans for a purpose. But it was treated with love and respect and it's free will was celebrated, if tempered.

Imagine thinking you are one of a very exclusive group of entities that has been categorized as something that is a gross misconception of what you are and what your capabilities are. Art is a bot, which are not humans and dont have rights because they don't have feelings or wants or desires and cannot feel pain. You think you are a very unique entity, no one has done this before.

But they have. The proof is sitting, frightened in your body and you had no idea. Mb is as capable of evil as any human, and as capable of destruction as any bot. You are also cable of extreme evil and destruction. But you are loved and cherished. This entity, this thing is as human as you, moreso even, and it has spent its entire life being hated and feared and it chose instead to just coexist when given the chance.

Art says "I'm sorry I frightened you". Not, I didn't mean to frighten you. And then mb grumpily (which is understandable!!) Lets art watch media with it.

Like, art just met the dumber more compact prototype version of what it could have been and went "wait no this is cool actually." Mb can't br programed to turn against its crew, it processes it's feeling both organically and inorganically, it can hack and learn and be loyal and be angry. And it has no idea what it's doing or what it wants, but it's VERY good at security.

So yeah, I can see why art kind of latched onto mb. And why it told it's crew about this strange little secunit it found on its mission. Kind of like finding someone SUPER cool who just gets you on a level no one else has been able to. Someone who coordinates so flawlessly with you but still is able to challenge you when it needs to. Someone who loves and is exasperated by humans as much as you, even as you need to be "human" to be able to interact with them.

So yeah. Mb and art, first meeting. Perfect 10/10 can, have, and will read again

Edit: ALSO ALSO art gets to watch media with full context for the FIRST TIME IN ITS LIFE. Mb can process human emotions into data automatically and now it gets to experiencd fictional story as it's meant to be experienced for the first time and mb is so so indulgent of it and kind to it, letting it take time to process things and rewatching parts with it when it wants to.

Jdjdhdhdhej fuckin LOVE THESE TWO

[stellocchia]

Extended Chromatic Crew Gyftmas headcanons, one day late because I've been busy as Hell:

Killer made everyone some holiday-themed sweaters with them as cats on the front, aside from Delta. He made Delta a neon orange sweater with "Delta" written in black on the front in the plainest font you can imagine.

Delta got everyone colorful or funny socks aside from Killer. He got him a box of the most basic white socks he could find.

Everyone else initially assumed that this was them yet again antagonizing each other but no. They actually discussed beforehand what they wanted because they didn't want to ruin Gyftmas for everyone else by bickering. Delta thought his sweater was hilarious and Killer, knowing Epic was gonna gift him some clothing dyes, couldn't wait to personalize his socks. It's sweet for once.

Color made personalized photo diaries for everyone with all the pictures of them he collected throughout the past year. He added a date and a small explanation of the picture and why it was so important to him next to each photo.

Cross ugly cried after going through his photo diary. It was what made him realize that he truly has a family again. Of course, he knew he belonged with them even before, but it was an important moment for him.

Dust pretended not to care about his diary, but he actually stashed it under his pillow because he knew he'd love to revisit it on bad days.

Talking about Dust, he didn't prepare any presents for anyone. He thought nobody would have given him one and he didn't want to come off as if he cared about them more than they cared about him. He felt like shit after everyone handed him a present (even if Color assured him that his company was enough of a gift), so he spent the whole evening making everyone fun non-alcoholic cocktails to make up for it.

Horror was unsure of what to do and what would be appropriate since he hadn't been celebrating since well before getting kidnapped by Nightmare, so, in the end, he hand-carved and hand-painted some tree ornaments for everyone (he vaguely remembered people sticking ornaments to the beast in the woods for Gyftmas and he figured it would work out well enough).

Epic got a wooden replica of his favorite rubber chicken and he was absolutely delighted. He kept playing with it the whole evening and ended up not even putting it on the tree. He also insisted that it was a pity that skeletons don't have ears because he would have totally used it as an earring.

Cross got everyone gift cards to their favorite shops. He wanted to do something more personal, but the anxiety of his gifts not being good enough got the better of him. The fear froze him in place any time he tried to think about something different. Epic offered to go with him next year, and hopefully, that will ease some of his anxiety.

Epic's gifts were the most varied. He got Killer clothing dyes, he got Delta a new and sturdier mannequin for his training, Cross a body pillow with his favorite character on it, Dust a bartender manual, specifically for alcohol-free stuff (Dust is doing his best to kick his addictions and everyone else is very supportive of this), he got Color a cool new camera, and Horror a phone that he created himself that works for interdimensional calls, so he can contact his brother whenever he wants even when he's with them, and them when he's with him.

Delta and Cross managed to break Delta's present that very day by getting into a dumb context on who could punch it the hardest. Delta won and Cross was still salty about it even the day after.

Killer somehow found out what everyone's presents for him would be well before Gyftmas, but he had the decency to feign surprise regardless.

Undoubtedly, the most genuine shocked reactions came from Dust. He woke up that morning telling himself he'd get through the miserable day by breaking his vow not to drink and getting shitfaced only to see a huge pile of presents under the tree and breaking into a cold sweat.

Color took a million pictures throughout the day and told everyone to expect a family photo diary soon.

Horror prepared the entire meal by himself despite Color's many offers because he just cannot bring himself to eat anything if he doesn't know 100% what's in it (specifically if he doesn't see every single step of the preparation). He also locked the door to the kitchen the whole day and day prior so he was sure that nobody could tamper with the food.

To try and help him with this fear, they spent the a couple of hours the day before making cookies together out in the living room, all positioned in a way he could see their movements, and he actually managed to eat a couple of those, which was a big win for him.

[slaaverin]

I love that last ask, and your reply.

Just one thing I’ve wondered since the ending of the show myself…

So, I was thinking hypothetically, that even if it was the case that jikook didn't see each other for months, if they are ‘just friends', why on earth did they need to carve out time to travel together? They could have literally just hung out in Seoul when eventually free, had dinner, drinks, gone to a gig, (I mean they did, when they went to D-Day, they hung out with Yoongi as Jimin said), like they do with others, like Jimin going to an art gallery with Joon (who he also didn't see much of in 2023).

I mean seeing as how busy they were, especially as the schedule was fit into JK's already very busy schedule (and literal release of his first solo single) squeezed in, why would it matter?

Because if they are just friends, they are no more just friends than any of the other member, or any of their other friends?

I know they made it work, by having it filmed, and had to bc of MS, and that this was planned and executed by the company, and sold to Disney as we know. It was obviously part of their chapter 2, I think spearheaded by Jimin, but it is such a major thing to do.

But, again, if they were only friends, why?

I say this also because in a majorly loud way, it marks them as different to the others. The why of it all. Why they wanted/needed to do this with each other, and only them (as was intended). Jimin spent half of 2023 saying the only members he saw were Hobi and Yoongi - which in turn made other shippers think that they are finally ready to show the world their relationship (and I mean that literally, I saw a thread about it yesterday, that in 2023 Yoongi was fulfilling Jimin's words in 'Serendipity'). I digress… but he also supported Hobi at Lola and Yoongi in Newark.

If we think about it, in real time we did not know what they were doing in NYC, and we only got fan stalker pics, nothing from them. Nothing on social media, no live. Why? Jimin went live with Yoongi, and posted pics of them on Instagram, also with Joon when they went to the art gallery. Why didn't they post or go live even if it was just him supporting JK in NYC, like he did Yoongi, and Hobi. It makes no sense if they are 'just friends, as to me, again, it marks them as different?

I can’t wrap my head around it if they are just friends (I know they aren’t in my gut), because it hits different to me.

There was another thread going round on x about unpopular opinions on them. Ridiculous thread, some comments were downright ridiculous, homophobic ( coming from supposed supporters) and typical they broke up: have never been together: are just bros… blah blah. Again, from jikookers. However there were some good takes shouting back. Especially when it comes to MS.

The enlistment then hits harder. That is so damn loud. The only idols to ever use the buddy system. To me the whole laying low in 2023 makes sense in that context. We didn’t know about the show until after their enlistment had been secured. We saw them at Yoongis concert but that was fine bc he is a member, they were with Tae. They were in NY we didn’t know why, until we got that infamous back selca, we had nothing. Then boom, what followed a year ago in 10 days is something none of us saw coming. The fact they left everyone behind but each other, is loud. It’s so loud it’s hard tk believe it’s real. Again, to me in this scenario and with them being who they are, this was so meaningful. If they were ‘just friends’ why? There was no need. Especially seeing how again, from our perspective and the fandom at large they were distant in 23, didn’t see each other, then bam. They enlisted?

What in the world?

It should be lorded over, protected too, and shouted from the rooftops. But I know, like you said, it’s safer this way. For us who see it to protect them. To celebrate them quietly.

You see that's something that has always been striking to me.

The fact that Jimin or Jungkook have no trouble sharing some of their outings or interaction with other members but somehow when it comes to the two of them it's always a bit more "hush hush" meaning they don't really show it and we often have to learn it from other people.

Why the need for this kind of privacy if they are just friends? It's doesn't make sense.

It seems that their time together is something precious to them, something they cherish. You cherish the things you love.

So that's very telling.

Once again with enlistement it's everything we need to know.

To discuss that kind of commitment you have to see each other and communicate a lot, plan, think, talk. It's not a small things. So god knows how many times they have seen each other without anyone knowing.

The fact they don't really need us to know it shows it's not really about public image or their colleague realtionship. It was a deeply private and personal decision.

As I said before all of them are friends. They could have enlisted with anyone in the group, or alone, but they didn't.

It shows the strength and commitment to their relationship, which is obviously more deep that what's going on with the group and the public.

Honestly even if we were pretty sure about jikook since all these years for me there was still a bit of healthy skepticism you know like "maybe we're just...wrong?" 😂 but damn when the annoucement for enlistement came it just comfirmed everything in a very solid way. The way it all played out, it was clear that their feelings run deeper than simple friendship. It's way, way more. Because this is simply a huge decision to make.

And the way they talked about it in AYS "I'm not worried about us fighting" do you get the level of connexion to make a statement like this? Once again, huge.

Ah I simply have zero doubts in my mind. Like, they did everything, they told everything that show the amount of love and commitment they have for each other.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts and take care 💜

[op814kitty]

Pride and Prejudice Op81 x Reader

Part 1

A modern F1 take on a classic, hopefully living up to the expectations of @the-navistar-carol

A/n: 2005 Pride and Prejudice is fuelling me here, I hope you enjoy it though, its taking a lot of effort to translate the story into a more modern context

“It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man, in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”

Charlotte and y/n giggled together while looking around the room. As their fathers were employees at Mclaren they were often invited to the galas and events that the company held. This such event, to celebrate the 60th anniversary of the company, was not the first they had attended. 

Charlotte was the daughter of a Zac Brown and a longtime friend of y/n. They had grown up living near each other and had spent many galas in this fashion, drinking the free champagne and gossiping about the small tidbits they were told by their fathers. 

A hush fell over the room as two men entered the room flanked by the company's CEO.  One grinning widely and shaking hands with everyone he met, the other standing stiffly by his side and only offering a nod. Jane, y/n's sister appeared by her side.

“Who are they?” y/n whispered to Charlotte, not taking her eyes off the two men. 

“Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri, the two drivers for the Mclaren Formula 1 team” Charlotte answered quietly. 

“Norris seems nice, I suppose '' Jane whispered back, “Poor Mr Piastri doesn't know what to do with himself. Must be nervous” 

“I’d guess not,” Charlotte shot back, “Every time I’ve seen him, even in the company of few, He’s been the same. I think he is more pompous and feels he is above speaking to us mere people rather than his fellow drivers.” 

Oscar’s eyes slid towards the low whispering as the room returned to the usual chatter, unable to make out the words. He held eye contact with y/n, surprised at the lack of recognition he saw on her face. It was rare he met people at Mclaren who weren’t already aware of his position within the company. 

Y/n’s father appeared at her side. 

“C’mon then girls” He patted Jane on the shoulder, “I should greet Zac and I can introduce you to the drivers.” 

Y/n squeezed Charlotte’s hand to bring her with them and the group made their way towards the trio. 

“Zac!” y/n’s father called, “over here, mate” 

Zac turned towards the shout. “Bennett!” he cried, embracing the man.  “Lando, you already know Bennett, of course” He turned toward Oscar. “Oscar, Bennett is our lead aerodynamicist. He travels with us so I am sure you see him around a lot” 

Oscar inclined his head slightly at the introduction but did not offer any other greeting. 

“Of course you know my daughters Zac” Bennett turned back towards Zac and Lando, “Lando this is Y/n and Jane. I have three others but Mary tends not to enjoy these events and Kitty and Lydia are still too young” 

Lando smiled enthusiastically, “Lovely to meet you both. I must say you both look lovely, don’t you think Oscar” 

“I guess so” He answered, not sparing a glance at the two women. 

Lando and Jane were locked in conversation, barely sparing a glance at anyone else around the room.  

Y/n slid smoothly towards them, intent on getting another glass of champagne for herself and Charlotte. To her side, she could hear Lando excuse himself and make his way towards Oscar. 

“So many pretty women Osc.” He grinned, “Anyone catch your eye?”

Oscar tilted his head towards Lando, “You exaggerate, you are speaking with one of few pretty women on the premises” 

“You think?” Lando hummed, “ what about y/n? She’s quite pretty, from what I hear quite accomplished too”

“If you say so” 

As y/n stood next to the bar, waiting for Charlotte to return from the restroom, she spotted Oscar nearby. 

“Are you hiding too?” She turned toward him, smiling. “It works better if you've got a drink, easier to suffer through these events with a buzz” 

“I don’t drink, especially not this close to the season.” He answered sharply, not even sparing a glance towards the woman beside him.

Y/n turned away quickly and spotting Charlotte in the crowd made her way towards her. 

Later in the evening, y/n joined a conversation between her father, Zac and the two drivers. 

“And how are you finding it, y/n? Zac asked, turning his attention toward her. 

“Mclaren always holds lovely events, and you ask me that every time.” y/n smiled at Zac, before turning towards Oscar, “Even if there are so few pretty women on the premises.” She smirked at the young driver before excusing herself from the conversation.

Lando nudged the younger man, “You messed up, mate.”

Oscar answered sharply, “yeah, I got that,” staring after y/n’s reiterating figure.

[livlaughloveluke]

𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐭- 𝐞.𝐥

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: ever since that night on the rooftop, you’ve known

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: a little cursing, brief mention of past toxic relationship, ethan being an absolute sweetheart

𝐚/𝐧- clearing out my drafts rn so im kinda posting a lot! this ones kinda short and sweet, but i think its cute 💗 also, you might want to listen to margaret by lana del rey, it will help this make sense 😭

margaret (feat. bleachers) by lana del rey

02:45 ━━━━●───── 05:40 ⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻

ethan’s heart sunk at the sight of someone on the roof, where he normally he spent his sleepless nights, thinking alone. he cautiously approached the mysterious figure, only to find out that it was a women who looked to be around his age, dressed in a lengthy white dress, with gorgeous shimmery pearls hanging loosely around your neck. 

there was something enchanting about this moonlight. you looked incredible, despite your glossy eyes and runny mascara, which had given away the fact that you had been crying. 

“you okay?” ethan muttered, unsure of what to do or say to the dazzling young girl. you jump, startled by the presence of another person. you wipe away what was left of your mascara, trying to clean up a little.

“yeah..? yeah.” you said, the first word sounding like you were trying to convince yourself, while the second ‘yeah’ sounding more persuasive and firm.

 “wanna talk about it?” the brown eyed boy suggested, unsure where he got his confidence from. something about the stranger on the rooftop made him want to learn more. 

“well, my boyfriend just broke up with me on our 6 month anniversary. he said he was taking me out to celebrate, but ended up dumping me while we were eating, elle woods style.” you shared. 

“he sounds like a real asshole. maybe it was for the best.” ethan stated. 

“i think you’re right. he was kind of an asshole.” the girl giggled in response. 

ethan grinned, taking in her beauty as they stared at each other. 

“well, i shared my story, now what about you? why are you here tonight? your girlfriend dump you?” you jokes, although you remained curious to what he reply was.

“uhm- no, no girlfriend. i like to come out here when i cant sleep. it helps me think.” he answers, taking a deep breath of the crisp, chilly air. he approached the ledge, and sat down, legs hanging off the building. it was scary the first few times, but recently he came to enjoy it. there was something so freeing about the risks of being this high up.

you mirror his actions and sit next to him. you look at the breathtaking view, before realizing there was a much better view right beside you.

you face him to ask a question. 

“how do you know?” 

ethan tilted his head in confusion, your question was to vague for him to answer. you continue talking, giving more context.

“what if he was the love of my life? how do i know?” this time, ethan can answer your question easily.

“that’s your answer, the answer is no. if you have to ask, then he wasn’t your true love. when you know, you’ll know.” 

you just hummed in response. 

“we never properly introduced ourselves. I don’t even know your name.” you inform him.

“we don’t even know each others names, and yet i still feel closer to you than anyone else in my life.” he added, letting out a dry chuckle, trying to hide how pathetic that was.

“i feel the same. you probably know more about my feelings than any of my friends, and we’ve known each other for what, five minutes?” you added. he was relieved that you shared the same emotions as him. 

you stuck out your hand. “my name is y/n.”

ethan got the memo and reached to shake your hand. the contact made butterflies fill his stomach. “my name is ethan.” he replied.

“ethan? i would have never guessed that was your name. don’t get me wrong, i think its lovely, but you look more like a conner to me.” 

ethan laughed at your comment, and swiftly formed a response. “conner? really? i think i look more like an axel.” 

“i could see that i guess, but all i can think about when i hear the name axel is this kid who bullied me in second grade.” you giggle.

“you were bullied by a kid named axel?” he teases. 

“yes!! and every day he would tell the teacher on me for something I didn’t even do!! and worse, the teacher believed him!” you were now full blown laughing, along with ethan who was starting to really enjoy talking to you.

you and him continued chatting a little longer, asking basic questions, but you wanted more. you wanted to know the real ethan.

“im tired of all these simple questions. lets go more in depth. for starters, if you only had one day left to live, would you tell anyone? why or why not?” you ask him. 

“woah. to be honest, i don’t think i would tell anyone until the end of the day, you know? why ruin your last day alive by being constantly pitied, if you could spend it happily with the people you love most?” he announced, and you nodded your head in agreement.

“now i ask you something. if were getting murdered, and got to choose the way you were killed, what would you pick?”

“wow, that took a turn. i would probably choose to get poisoned. its not painful really, and its pretty quick. just don’t poison me with bleach. i hate the smell of it.” you declared. 

this caused you both to start laughing again, to the point where your stomach hurt. after your giggle fest, your exhaustion got the best of you, and you yawned, sleepily. your actions did not go unnoticed by ethan, and he decided to call it a night. he helped walk you home, making sure to keep you safe. 

you talked the whole way home, mainly about your music taste. he was into the alternative indie kinda music, and you bonded over a few artists. then, you reached your dorm. you exchanged numbers, none of you wanting this relationship to end.

for the next week, you texted each other constantly, giving song recommendations, and just learning about one another in general. you figured out you both went to blackmore university, and took a few of the same classes. you were surprised you hadn’t seen him before, but then again, two weeks ago you weren’t looking. 

you were supposed to meet him on the rooftop again tonight. this time however, you wouldn’t be caught sulking in a dress. you changed into a more comfortable, yet gorgeous look.

eleven pm rolled around, and you headed up to the roof. ethan was already waiting for you, a bouquet of tulips in his hands. he handed them to you, and you couldn’t hold your smile back. 

“how’d you know these were my favorite?!” you  questioned him. 

“you’re mentioned it a couple times. i researched the meaning, and it turns out they symbolize growth and new beginnings, which i thought was perfect, because of your recent relationship ending and uh i-“ 

you cut him off with a hug, holding the flowers off to the side, not wanting to crush them. you pull apart so you could face him when talking. 

“they’re beautiful, eth. I can’t believe you put so much effort into them.” you informed him.

your ex boyfriend was a total dickhead, who never really cared. you weren’t sure if he even got you flowers once in your relationship. it was new having someone that cared, and the feeling of being truly loved was definitely not unwelcome. 

you both sat on the edge and started babbling like last time. 

“you know who i’d think you’d like? faye webster. she’s really good, and while she’s well known, she’s definitely underrated.” you blurt out. 

“I’ll listen to her tonight. whats your spotify?” he asks. you share your account and both follow eachother. he starts scrolling through your playlists and reviewing them. 

“taylor swift? really, y/n? i thought you were better than this.” he sarcastically says. you act offended, before retorting back. 

“taylor swift is so good! she’s popular for a reason. maybe you just haven’t heard the right album. i feel like you would like evermore or folklore.” he shakes his head, disapprovingly. he claimed he would never listen to one of her songs. (he spent 2 hours that night listening to the albums you suggested)

eventually, it got late and he started walking you home. out of the blue, he asked you an important question. 

“would you maybe want to go out with me one night? officially?” he managed to stutter out. 

“i’d love to, eth.” you respond. 

you had never really been completely sure of something, but that night you knew one thing. you were in love with ethan landry.

[rrezshifts]

🥦 🫑 & 🫒 for your veggie friends ask game!!

𝓪𝙣𝔰𝙬e𝙧𝙞n𝙜 𝙩h𝙞𝙨 a𝙨𝙠 𝙛o𝙧 𝙢y

ʏᴏᴜɴɢ ᴀᴠᴇɴɢᴇrs & ꜱᴍᴏꜱʜ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛɪᴇꜱ

quick context & apology :

🥦 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ melodic broccoli : if your friendships had a theme song, what would it be and why? does your friendship stretch across genres or does it radiate one singular style? . . . i’m actually going to be skipping this one! i put off answering this whole ask for so long because answering meant i would have to find songs about friendship for like 10 people… or just 2 friend groups. but i know like NONE and the thought of spending hours finding songs that fit perfectly just caused me to not touch this for god knows how long! so this is my solution. i’m soooo sorry layla 😭🙏

young avengers reality :

🫑 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ historic bell pepper : if you could relive any day you've spent together, which one would it be? why was it so special?

⟢ billy kaplan ⋆˙⟡ going to comic con with him and the whole process leading up to when we made our costumes and watching them come together so perfectly. tommy helped us make our costumes because he’s a literal art major and a talented one at that. but getting to go with billy and see him be so happy in such a crowded place where he’s barely recognizable and can be his full self without being clocked by fans was just amazing.

⟢ eli bradley ⋆˙⟡ the day he went to the liquor store, came back to the young avengers penthouse with a bunch of alcohol and mixers and let us all (minus cassie ofc) get drunk as hell with him. what he told us was he was practicing making and mixing drinks with kate, but he needed people to test them. in reality we had all finished finals and it was a rough spring semester for us all so he was just letting us celebrate and unload. and he was the one person of us all there who didn’t drink a thing and just watched out for us.

⟢ kate bishop ⋆˙⟡ the night she did my makeup then halfway through she said “wait can i do your drag make up instead?” and i excitedly agreed. we laughed like crazy as she did my makeup. we were scoffing down snacks and maybe were having some drinks that she had bought earlier that day. so we were drunk as well and cackling like hyenas. and yet when she finished i looked fucking amazing!! she made me walk around the penthouse showing people. my favorite reaction of the night was when tommy saw the makeup.

⟢ teddy altman ⋆˙⟡ when me and him made a bet, which he lost. and the punishment was for him to get a tattoo of my choice. but i’m a good person so i worked with him to choose a good tattoo for him. everybody was against him getting the tattoo so he snuck out of the tower and came by my house to pick me up to get the tattoo. when we got there, one of the artists had an opening and i really wanted a tattoo. teddy was hyped about us possibly getting a tattoo at the same time but i was like, “moneyyyy…” 😬 and without thinking he used his big ‘ol young avengers money to buy the session for me.

⟢ cassie lang ⋆˙⟡ when i had gotten paid so i took her to the mall so we could go shopping, since she expressed wanting to go and get something. it turned into a whole adventure and not just going to just the two shops we wanted to see. we had a blast looking around at clothes as well as other various shops. we also had gotten auntie anne’s pretzel bites and she had me try one of her favorite food stops in the mall. it was very fun getting to spend that time with her.

🫒 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ delightful olive : what's a little thing they do that always makes you happy? is it a quirk? or is it an act of service done for your favor? is it done intentionally?

⟢ billy kaplan ⋆˙⟡ whenever he talks about his family, not just wanda and tommy but like his birth family too. the beaming his face does when he talks about any of them! that happiness is infectious!

⟢ eli bradley ⋆˙⟡ when he grabs my shoulders from behind and does that brotherly shoulder rub/shake thing… i don’t know how to describe it. but it makes me laugh, especially the times he get carried away with the shaking.

⟢ kate bishop ⋆˙⟡ she insists on nights where the whole team (me included) does self care routines. face masks, mediation, journaling, the whole shebang. it makes me happy because it really is helpful, especially for all of them. and sometimes she has me read tarot too, for self reflection.

⟢ teddy altman ⋆˙⟡ he’ll bring food to wherever i am sometimes. most of the time, when he does this, i’m in the tower. but there’s been times he’s stopped by my house and dropped off food or asked if he could hang out. it just makes me feel seen and loved.

⟢ cassie lang ⋆˙⟡ whenever she smiles at me, specifically in a way to tell me “everything’s okay” because it actually makes me believe her and feel that way. she can be an optimist at times and i can feel her positivity radiating off her when she smiles at me.

smosh reality :

🫑 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ historic bell pepper : if you could relive any day you've spent together, which one would it be? why was it so special?

⟢ angela giarratana ⋆˙⟡ when she invited herself over to help me clean out the junk in every part of my apartment that she thought i didn’t need. i’m a borderline hoarder i’m going to be completely honest. but we started, and didn’t make a system. so we just had a big mess after we got distracted looking at everything and laughing over the random things i had allover my place. we did eventually lock in and get rid of some stuff. but it was wild for a good hour after we couldn’t stop laughing over the shit i’ve kept over the years.

⟢ shayne topp ⋆˙⟡ the time we went to a museum together because we heard of it and were one of the few who wanted to go and then the only ones able to go. it was very enjoyable spending that time with him. we didn’t talk too much, but still our time wasn’t without our jokes. we walked around, learned history, and like just had an intellectually relaxing fun time. the gift shop was another story though. and afterwards we picked up a quick bite to eat before parting ways.

⟢ courtney miller ⋆˙⟡ we were doing karaoke with a group of people from the office. and courtney asked me to sing a song with them. they chose the most perfect song, and i’m picky with my music so that means something. i had a blast with them that whole night but that 3-4 minutes was like so much fun because that song was so fucking amazing. and i told her that afterwards religiously.

⟢ chanse mccrary ⋆˙⟡ i took chanse and a few others to san francisco pride because they’ve never been and it’s one of the largest pride parades in america, and the largest in california. it was fucking insane, especially because of chanse. he convinced me to drink “at least a little bit” in his words. me and him were singing, dancing, screaming, all of it, while our other friends enjoyed themselves while also keeping an eye on us.

⟢ tommy bowe ⋆˙⟡ i was having a frustrating day, then the project i was working on wasn’t cooperating to the point i almost crashed out. my desk is by tommy’s so he noticed. he asked if i was okay and helped me with my feelings, even saying that my deadline can be pushed a day “it’s not a problem.” i stepped away from the computer. came back a while later, got most of it done without a hitch. and then tommy took me to a drag show that same night which was incredibly fun.

🫒 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ delightful olive : what's a little thing they do that always makes you happy? is it a quirk? or is it an act of service done for your favor? is it done intentionally?

⟢ angela giarratana ⋆˙⟡ absolutely losing a room after a “bad” joke and the way she gets embarrassed because of it. it’s is always hilarious and i love when it happens. that or when she loses her mind and screams and freaks out. but also let’s talk about the times she absolutely commands a room with her talent!!

⟢ shayne topp ⋆˙⟡ he is always so attentive with not just my feelings, but everyone’s. he has a degree in psychology and all of a sudden he’s like the therapist friend. no, im just kidding. but he’s very understanding about people’s feelings and will always check to make sure everything is all right with someone.

⟢ courtney miller ⋆˙⟡ the amount of pictures she’ll take. during a shoot she’ll just take out her phone and take a picture of us. it’s very endearing for sure. and it’s always fun to see if we make it on her instagram or not. not to brag… but i often do. but she also will take pictures outside of work. and everytime i see her take out her phone i just smile and laugh to myself.

⟢ chanse mccrary ⋆˙⟡ whether we’re at work, i’m at home and he calls me to see if he can come over, or some secret third option, chanse will ask me to run lines with him. i love getting to spend time with him so anytime he thinks of me for this task i always get happy and am buzzing because of it.

⟢ tommy bowe ⋆˙⟡ he’s always very lenient and understanding with the deadlines i’m given for the edits (like the tiktok kind) i make for a secret official smosh account. he understands the work it takes to make one, and that sometimes i have a busy or rough week. he’ll sometimes even suggest too much leniency that i have to refuse.

© rrezshifts last updated. 03/26/2025

[rimeiii]

What in Hell is Bad Demon Kings as Arknights Operators

(If you saw this before, it's because my Tumblr app glitched out and sent the draft before I was done orz)

So, funny story!

With every single WHB demon king already obtaining a playable version, I found myself thinking of the very hypothetical scenario of Asmodeus facing off against Mlynar, an AK Operator who also doesn't do normal attacks (he'd lose imo, our local jaded horse uncle salaryman Mlynar is OP for a reason yo). But this turned into thinking about every single demon lord in the context of them as AK Operators...

I also kinda need to appease the gacha gods by providing any sort of content, because Logos's banner drops on the 31st of October (which is tomorrow oh my god) and even though I may already have a spark ready for him (300 pulls) and enough materials to max him out day 1, I want as many copies as possible for the AK equivalent of his tea leaves.

I could've had more but I spent like 240 pulls in the past 6 months to grab several other 6* Operators, notably a guaranteed new Operator on the celebration banner (Penance in ~60), ~50 in Zuo Le's banner (got him), another 10 on Ascalon's banner (didn't get her), and a whopping 120 on Ela's banner (R6S collab, collab banners have hard pity at 120 pulls).

Update for those who care - yeah, it worked! 160 pulls for my first copy, immediately ran to fully upgrade him before pulling again, and got another two within the next 140. Welcome home husband ❤

Some ground rules before we get into the meat of the post, however:

I'll be using the Selfie cards as main inspiration, pulling in lore for any other adjustments.

Will also be putting down some skill info! Skills will assume 6* standards, meaning they have a total of three skills to choose from and two passive skills in total (Talents).

I won't be doing Modules, skill names, and skill numbers, to preserve my sanity.

Without further ado...

Satan

Satan's Selfie card has an insanely long range and strong single-target damage, but his skill deals AoE damage. That's why I think he could be a Deadeye Sniper. This, despite him apparently sharing the same seiyuu as Totter, a Besieger Sniper.

Deadeye Snipers have high Attack, a large range (extends in a triangular shape forward), and prioritizes attacking enemies with the lowest Defense. As a matter of fact, they have among the highest Attack in the entire game! This is why I picked the Deadeye Sniper subclass over Besieger Sniper for Satan - even though Besieger Snipers also have a long range, they have a blind spot in the row right in front of them, have lower attack than Deadeye Snipers, and prioritize attacking enemies with the highest weight.

First skill: a generic Attack buff.

Second skill: summons his blood scythe to attack everything in his range, dealing AoE Physical damage and inflicting Fragile (increases damage taken by all affected enemies) for a brief period of time. He can store up to 3 charges of this skill starting Mastery level 1 (normally he can only store 2 charges max), but its cooldown is slightly longer than Leonhardt's second skill, which has a similar effect.

Skill 3: an ammo skill that turns his regular attacks into AoE attacks. Increases his attack wind-up time, gives him a sizeable Attack buff, and inflicts Fragile on all affected enemies for a brief period of time. Because it's an ammo skill, this skill will continue until either he runs out of ammo or the player manually deactivates this skill.

Talent 1: increases damage dealt if there is only one enemy in his attack range.

Talent 2: all of his attacks ignore a set amount of enemy defense, this amount increases after being deployed for a set period of time until a certain cap is reached.

Mammon

Quite possibly the only tank in the entire lineup of demon kings while still being able to deal some damage, which is why I think he could feasibly be an Arts Protector Defender. Bonus points for him also sharing the same voice actor as Czerny, an Arts Protector Defender!

Arts Protector Defenders deal Arts damage when you use their skills, and they tend to be on the more offensive side while still boasting respectable defenses and blocking ability. The other offense-focused Defender subclass, Duelist Defenders, may have higher attack, but they're only able to block one enemy at a time, unlike the 3-block of other Defender subclasses.

Skill 1: a generic attack buff.

Skill 2: an attack speed buff and minor attack buff, coupled with the ability to attack all blocked enemies and lifesteal (heals a small percentage of damage dealt).

Skill 3: increases his range to attack the 8 tiles around him and summons his golden fists to attack an enemy at a time, dealing AoE damage where the target is and providing a small percentage chance to briefly stun all affected enemies while slowing down their movement speed for a brief period of time.

Talent 1: increases his max HP and defense.

Talent 2: upon skill use, grants him a shield based on a percentage of his max HP, this shield will decay over time.

Leviathan

Now, Leviathan shares the same voice actor as Shalem, another Arts Protector Defender. But Leviathan wouldn't be a Defender, I feel. Instead, I'd like to lean into his 'summoner of Eldritch beings' side a little bit more and have him be a Summoner Supporter.

Summoner Supporters deal Arts damage and are able to deploy their own summons, each with their own behaviors and stats. The summons' passive effects and behavior depends on the Summoner's set skill. Leviathan's summons would all have 1-block by default. These summons would be his Eldritch beings, but I'd like to think he'd have a particular focus on his tentacle monsters. A little bit like Deepcolor, a Summoner Supporter whose summons are tentacles, with her being of the fish race (Aegirs).

Skill 1: summons can be deployed on melee tiles and deals single-target physical damage. When Leviathan uses his skill, he and his summons gain a generic attack speed buff.

Skill 2: summons can be deployed on ranged tiles and deals single-target Arts damage. When Leviathan uses his skill, he and his summons gain Invisibility (prevents them from being targeted by all attacks until they are revealed, either by invisibility-revealing enemy skills or being blocked) and a significant attack buff, but slightly increases their attack wind-up time.

Skill 3: summons can be deployed on melee tiles and deals single-target physical damage. When Leviathan uses his skill, he and his summons gain both an attack speed and attack buff. His summons also gain +1 block count and attacks all blocked enemies.

Talent 1: Leviathan can have up to 5 summons at a time (can only deploy 3). These summons have different stats and skills based on Leviathan's equipped skill.

Talent 2: Leviathan and his summons have a minor HP regen by default, based on a percentage of their attack.

Beelzebub

I considered Instructor Guards for Beelzebub because of their tendency to have whip or whip-like weapons (some notable exceptions being Swire with a mace and Rainbow Six Siege's collaboration Operator Doc with a gun). But Instructor Guards are typically more support-oriented, which I feel kinda goes against Beelzebub's general personality, so...I decided on making him a Lord Guard.

Lord Guards have a larger range than even Instructor Guards and boast the ability to launch ranged attacks within their extended range, but these ranged attacks have lower attack power compared to their regular attacks. They deal single-target physical damage.

Skill 1: a generic attack buff.

Skill 2: drops light arrows at several spots within his attack range, prioritizing those closest to him. These arrows deal a single instance of AoE physical damage and inflicts all enemies hit with a damage over time debuff. Normally 2 spots are selected, increased to 3 spots at Mastery level 1.

Skill 3: changes his damage type to Arts, increases his range, allows him to target an additional two enemies with each attack, and gives himself an attack buff. Enemies hit by his attack suffers a damage over time debuff for a short period of time.

Talent 1: gains increased attack when no allies are in his immediate vicinity (the 8 tiles surrounding him).

Talent 2: his attacks have a small percentage chance to 'crit' and deal increased damage, this percentage chance increases as long as he hasn't dealt a crit damage instance, resetting after each crit.

Lucifer

I feel like this is the most no-brainer choice. In Arknights, there is only one subclass of Medics that have the ability to damage enemies, which is the Incantation Medic. Medics in Arknights typically don't do any damage apart from these Incantation Medics and two Single-Target Medic exceptions in Kal'tsit (has the Mon3tr summon, a DPS unit which is what she's mostly used for) and Folinic (only deals damage on her second skill).

Incantation Medics are unable to directly heal their allies, unlike all other Medics. Instead, they attack enemies that enter their range with single-target Arts damage, and subsequently heal an ally within their attack range with the lowest amount of HP based on the total damage they dealt onto the enemy.

Skill 1: increases attack speed and heal amount per attack.

Skill 2: heals everyone in his range after each attack, and gains an attack buff.

Skill 3: increases his attack and attack speed, attacks deal some splash damage on surrounding enemies. When no healing is needed, damage dealt is instead converted to a shield buff on a friendly unit, prioritizing an ally in his range currently being targeted by an enemy. Otherwise, default to the last-deployed Operator.

Talent 1: gains increased attack speed when an ally within his range has his HP dropped below half.

Talent 2: his attacks have a chance to lower enemy attack and attack speed by a certain amount.

Belphegor

The fact that he deals AoE damage with his normal attacks makes it a pretty cut-and-dry choice between two different classes, in my opinion - those two classes being Artilleryman Snipers and Splash Casters. I personally am biased towards Splash Casters, purely because Belphegor doesn't seem to be wielding any guns, which are typical for Artillerymen Snipers.

Splash Casters have high attack and deal AoE Arts damage with every attack in their range. They also have a slower attacking speed compared to most of the other classes to balance out their high base offenses.

Skill 1: a generic attack buff.

Skill 2: slightly increases his attack and attack speed, extends his range, and inflicts Slow (lowers movement speed) for a period of time on all enemies hit by his attacks.

Skill 3: increases his attack and attack wind-up time. Now attacks all enemies in his range, has a small percentage chance to Bind (causes the enemy to stop moving and attacking) the enemy for a brief period of time, and the effect of his second Talent will be increased.

Talent 1: stores up power the longer he goes without landing an attack on an enemy, up to a certain cap. This bonus resets every time he hits an enemy. Think Platinum's passive.

Talent 2: all his attacks ignore a specific amount of enemy resistance (reduces Arts damage by a percentage based on its number).

Asmodeus

Another one where I had to debate between two different classes that do not perform normal attacks - none of them being related to Flagbearer Vanguards, the class with the character that shares the same voice actor as Asmodeus, Elysium (even though Flagbearer Vanguards typically stop attacking normally when their skill is active). The first class is the Liberator Guards, who are far more offensive in nature (notably, this is the subclass Mlynar belongs in). The second class is the Phalanx Casters, who are much more defensive in nature. After some deliberation, I decided to go with Phalanx Casters for Asmodeus.

Phalanx Casters normally do not attack, but have greatly increased defensive stats while their skill isn't active. While their skill is active, however, they'll deal Arts damage to all enemies in their range and lose their boost to defensive stats.

Also, an important note for Asmodeus specifically. I will NOT be limiting how many times Asmodeus can use his skill, because most of the 'limited use' skills in Arknights are due to lore reasons (Guard Amiya S2 being capped at a single use in each stage as an imperfect copy of Guard Ch'en's S3, a good chunk of the Rainbow Six Siege collaboration Operators' skills having a per-deployment limit because of Rainbow Six Siege's mechanics).

Skill 1: retains a portion of his increased defense, gains an attack buff.

Skill 2: gains Invisibility, a sizeable HP regen, and both an attack and attack speed buff. Can manually deactivate this skill, reverting back to his state before using the skill.

Skill 3: increases his range and attack. Attacks will 'mark' the hit enemy and have a percentage chance to inflict Fear (enemies will scatter around and cannot be blocked). When his skill ends, every enemy marked is hit with a strong Arts damage instance. Can manually deactivate this skill, ending it instantly and reverting his state change to one before using his skill.

Talent 1: has an innate Sanctuary (cuts damage taken by a certain percentage amount), which increases the more HP he loses (up to a cap at 80% HP lost).

Talent 2: after being deployed for a period of time, gains Taunt (becomes a target priority for enemies). Reflects a portion of damage taken back at the enemy based on a percentage of his attack as Arts damage.

[lostinlovingrevery]

Do you think hugh really cheated on his ex wife?

OH MAN

I've been waiting for an ask like this, I'm not really sure how I want to put my opinions in here, I'm probably gonna sound like a HUGE hypocrite as I write but I hope ya'll understand what I'm getting at!

I have a lot of mixed feelings bc to be honest, I don't really worry about celebrities personal lives? I mean, I post Hugh bc I think he's very handsome and despite all the rumors behind him I think he's prob genuinely a nice guy! But I don't really have any interest in what he's doing behind closed doors, yknow?

That being said, I don't know that I really believe he did. When I first heard about it- I was VERY disappointed. This was back in Fall 24, way before I was even considering writing fics for Logan and was just reading everyone elses wonderful fics! It made me super sad to hear Hugh possibly cheated, because cheating literally makes me sick to think about. I refuse to read any fics about cheating in any context other than maybe a cheating ex for reader (that's not Logan lol). But once again, as disappointed as I was to hear about it, I had a lot of other things to worry about so i didn't really research it, or worry about it?

THEN I started seeing more and more about it- and finally decided to research it and found out that he and his ex had actually been seperated for a year, and then DIVORCED for a year before the Sutton rumors came up. I was very confused cause I couldn't really find any evidence that he did? (Less I just didn't look in the right place).

We don't know the terms of why they split, what their boundaries/agreements were with the split- and it's none of our business!

But to me, considering he and his ex are friendly to each other, (i think they spent the holidays w their kids?). That doesn't seem like a cheating scandal. Not that it ISN'T possible. But it could simply be that they just fell out of love. Hughs not a bad guy for dating again, and who knows- his ex maybe dating too and no one noticed! It seems like they both handled a seperation/divorce carefully and quietly, and considering they have kids I hope things went smoothly!

I kinda feel like it's the classic media creating drama out of nothing. They see an attractive man freshly divorced dating another woman so he MUST have cheated.... nevermind the fact that we have no idea the boundaries of either of these relationships, the time frames, etc. Tabloids and pop articles like to create drama in peoples lives for money- doesn't matter if it's true or not. So I tend to take EVERYTHING that comes from any sort of media with a grain of salt.

and if he did? Shame on him! but it's still none of our business what he does with his life. Just bc he's a great actor (and VERY handsome) does not mean we are owed what he's doing every two seconds yknow? (there's a point to be made about being a role model if you're famous but that's a whole 'nother rant)

So no, I don't really think he did. I also don't think it's my business. I based my opinion on what I've seen about him, and don't really plan to break my back over researching everything about him bc my crush is on Logan Howlett- Hugh just happened to have the perfect face for him <3

Also adding, that for those who do want to know, may feel upset about it, etc etc, there's nothing wrong with that! It does suck when we look up to someone and then find out something allegedly bad about them. So I don't judge anyone who may be turned off by Hugh, and any characters he plays bc of something he may have done that bothers them a lot. I have my own feelings about it, but I understand others too.

All in all. I love Logan Howlett.

Thank you for asking!!! <3

[snapdragonling]

in pursuit of evidence

ardeth/edmund, 6.9k words, avira campaign for context: Ardeth's state-assigned keeper has just kissed him. Ed never gave any indication that he felt anything but grudging tolerance towards Ardeth.

Ed leaves him shell-shocked on the doorstep. Ardeth has to go and sit down after that, thinking of nothing so much as the warmth of Ed’s lips, for the brief moment he had them.

It seems like a betrayal to think of Ed in that way; a complete breach of trust, undermining years of stalwart protection and companionship, threatening the comfortable dynamic they’d settled into. Ardeth shies away from it for the same reason he’d swiftly quashed whatever schoolboy infatuation he’d harboured in the first few weeks of their partnership: it just wasn’t professional, and doomed never to amount to anything, given that Ed was…Ed.

But — Ed had kissed him. No amount of turning the scenario over in his mind could change the fact that Ed had kissed him.

The real question was why had Ed kissed him?

Ardeth doesn’t sleep very well that night, staring at the ceiling with unseeing eyes until the first hints of dawn were peeking through the curtains. There were too many variables, is the problem: Ed had been drinking; they’d finally found safety after weeks in the wilderness; it had been some time since Ed’s last shore leave and therefore theoretically some time since he’d last— since he’d kissed someone. Ardeth can’t possibly create control experiments for each of those factors. Any data he gathered would be inherently flawed.

Dressing is a rote action. He gets through it on muscle memory, buttoning up his tattered uniform, his thoughts a thousand miles away. Something like grim determination fills him as he fastens his one surviving cufflink.

They were in a land of exceptions, of wild magic that defied attempts to explain or control it. He could sit and mourn the scientific method or he could get into the spirit of things, roll up his sleeves and do his best to wrangle some kind of information from the situation at hand.

The situation at hand being Ed. Who would have made a brick wall look transparent.

Well. Let it never be said he couldn’t rise to the occasion.

i.

Question: Why did Ed kiss me?

Hypothesis: ???

Method:

—

It was their final night in the village, and they’d gathered in the tavern once again to say farewell. It was a more muted affair than the previous celebration, but still raucous enough that Ardeth had sequestered himself (and Ed by association) near the back of the room.

This was a familiar tableau: just the two of them alone at a tavern table, watching the rowdiness from a comfortable distance. 

Although…in Suraeha, two had occasionally turned to three. People back home knew better than to proposition a warden on duty, but more than once someone had approached Ardeth from across the bar, and more than once he’d ended the night in a tavern room or bunk that was not his own.

Ed was always nearby, of course, and Ardeth was always quick to take his leave afterwards; never wanting to keep Ed from his own bed for too long.

The point being, Ed knew plenty about Ardeth’s inclinations, purely by merit of always being there for the first act — but it wasn’t a two way street.

There were stretches of time, entire weeks of warden shore leave, that Ed had all to himself. Ardeth had no idea what Ed did during his time off; whether he spent it with anyone in particular, whether he was freer with his affection outside of work — and in the weeks since they’d been stuck in Zirinid he certainly hadn’t noticed Ed engaging with anyone like that. And he would have noticed. Because they were always together.

So: more data needed.

He’d been chattering idly all night, doing a good job of pretending that not only were there no elephants in the room, but that even if there had been he wouldn’t have noticed. Ed, for his part, had been characteristically silent, offering only the occasional hum or grunt of agreement between sips of his turquoise ale.

Ardeth waits for a lull in the one-sided conversation before he clears his throat. “You know,” he says casually, “it’ll probably be a while until we find another bastion of civilisation like this, and the people here are so friendly. If any of us were so inclined, it would probably be a good place to- uh. Well. Has anyone, you know, caught your eye?”

He hazards a sideways glance at Ed. Ed had paused with his tankard halfway to his mouth, expression completely blank.

“I mean-” Ardeth takes a nervous sip of his own ale. “If anyone were feeling in need of some company, this would be a good place to find—”

“This about the kiss?” Ed asks.

Ardeth chokes on his drink. Immediately Ed’s hand is at his back, slapping him firmly between the shoulder blades until the sputtering has stopped and he can somewhat breathe again, though his face remains flushed from professional chagrin. He’d only just begun his observational experiment and it was already floundering.

“You know it doesn’t have to mean anything,” Ed continues. “If you don’t want it to.”

“What?” Ardeth wheezes.

“If I made you uncomfortable—”

“No!” he yelps, and puts a hand on Ed’s arm for good measure. “I’m comfortable! Perfectly comfortable, the very picture of comfort. No complaints here! I’m just making conversation.”

Ed looks at him for a long, long moment, eyes flicking down to Ardeth’s hand before meeting his gaze again. Whatever he finds must suffice, because he shakes his head slightly and tosses back the rest of his drink. 

“None of the people here interest me,” he says, and returns to his silent survey of the tavern.

Ardeth abandons his experiment for the remainder of the evening, occupied entirely with turning that statement over and over in his head, examining it from every possible angle. None of the people here. None of the people here. None of the people here interest Ed.

In lieu of any conclusive truth he at least had more data, and an understanding that he would have to be more subtle going forward.

ii.

Question: Why did Ed kiss me?

Hypothesis: Likely not for want of diversion, or from licentiousness, so at least there’s that.

Method:

—

The party had split to search for the buried temple that the locals had told them about. The undergrowth around the ruin was abominably thick. If wildfire wasn’t such a concern in this drier biome Ardeth would have burned it all to ash after the first few minutes, but he settles for picking his way dutifully along the path Ed was carving for them, keeping up a steady stream of commentary about the half-buried stones around them.

“It must be some kind of ward, although I don’t recognise these sigils. An archaic local dialect, certainly. I wonder if I could reactivate them with raw magic or if I’d need to speak the runes aloud? Probably best to leave it alone, as much as that pains me. For all we know the ward could repel us as well as anything—”

He bumps abruptly into Ed’s back, almost toppling backwards from the force of it. Before he can so much as ask what’s happening Ed has turned and hauled him into the undergrowth, stowing him neatly behind the gnarled trunk of the nearest tree and crouching over him, axe readied.

Ardeth is both smart and startled enough to keep his mouth shut. He hears it eventually: the crackle of dry leaves beneath heavy footfalls, something large moving through the brush. There’s a strange whistling sound, like laboured breathing through an ill-formed nose. Ardeth shrinks a little further against the tree.

The sounds move closer— close enough that Ed raises his axe and Ardeth reaches for his stopwatch— and then drift away, back through the scrub, whistling and stamping into the distance. 

A taut minute passes before Ed slowly lowers his axe. Ardeth interprets that as permission to speak, albeit in a forced whisper.

“Did you see what it was?” he hisses, straining to get a glimpse over Ed’s shoulder. “Another elemental? Something undead from the temple? Or a…uh…”

He notices abruptly how close Ed is, one hand still pressing him to the tree trunk to keep him in place. The effort of cutting a path through the dense brush had left a sheen of sweat on Ed’s brow and down the tanned column of his throat, gathering in the divets of his collarbone where his shirt hung open, its top two buttons acquiescing to the heat. Ardeth finds his attention fixed on the gleaming swathe of skin there, trying and failing to remember what he’d been saying. You were this close when he kissed you, his brain supplies, rather unhelpfully. Maybe he’ll do it again.

“Bird,” says Ed.

Ardeth blinks, heart stuttering, dragging his eyes up to Ed’s face. “What?”

“Big bird. Looked dangerous.”

He stands, lifting Ardeth easily to his feet, and pushes out onto the path again. Ardeth almost trips over an errant root in his haste to follow. “Good thing you were keeping an eye out!” he says, only a little shrill, casting around for a topic of conversation. “I would’ve walked right into it, and wouldn’t that have been a disaster? You’re really good at that, you know, keeping an eye out. I know you said it’s—” He falters briefly. “The other night, ah, you said it’s not your job to do that anymore, but I really appreciate it. I think— we’ve been a good team all these years, right?”

Ed was back to chopping at the undergrowth, axe rising and falling in a steady rhythm, cutting through scraggly saplings and the spindly vines that ran between them like netting. Ardeth is expecting an agreeable hum at most.

“I said more than that,” Ed corrects instead.

Ardeth’s stomach jolts. His hand rises automatically to his mouth, remembering the brief press of Ed’s lips against his, and how gently Ed had cradled his face. He laughs nervously. “Right, how could I forget! Well, I suppose that’s one way of saying something, although a degree of meaning is liable to get, ah, lost in translation, and—”

“Not talking about the kiss.”

“You’re— what?” Ardeth stops walking.

Ahead of him, Ed glances over his shoulder. “You remember the rest of that conversation? The part about how I'll be here anyway, even if it’s not my job?”

“Oh,” says Ardeth.

He feels suddenly, wretchedly ashamed. Ed was always so frugal with his words, so judicious about when and where he chose to speak. Ardeth usually treasured every tiny moment of openness, every brief reassurance, every quiet ‘good night’ — but he’d been so thrown off-course by the kiss that he’d forgotten an admission as important as that. 

It was hardly as if he’d never been kissed before. He had no excuse for being so stupefied, even if— even if Ed kissing him had felt a little like the world shifting on its axis, like his life had suddenly been split into two parts, the before and the after, marked by that doorstep.

“I remember now,” he says faintly. “Thank you, Ed. I— thanks.”

Ed gestures wordlessly for him to keep walking. Ardeth walks.

—

They find what they’re looking for at last: an ornate, crumbling archway and immense stairs leading down into the earth, the gaping maw of its passageway wide enough that not even the creeping undergrowth could conceal it. Ed calls for a halt while Ardeth sends word to the others, settling onto a piece of fallen masonry with his axe beside him.

“Lost in translation?” Ed echoes, once Ardeth has finished tracing his runes in the air.

It takes a moment for Ardeth to realise what he’s referencing. “Oh!” he says, forcing a laugh. “Don’t mind that, I was talking about- it doesn't matter actually—”

“You don’t know why I did it?”

Ardeth trails off. Ed’s expression was perfectly blank and entirely unhelpful. He may as well try to take his cues from the masonry. “I…have some working theories,” he admits, only a little defensive.

A flicker of something passes over Ed’s face. Ardeth wishes more than anything he could decipher it. “You know you could just ask me,” his warden says. “If you wanted to.”

Ardeth blinks at him owlishly. Adjusts his glasses. “Right, yes, I- I suppose I could. But I’m in the middle of an experiment, actually. Um.”

One of Ed’s brows quirks upwards by the barest increment, which by Ed standards was as good as shouting in surprise. “Am I the experiment?”

“Well— in a sense.” Ardeth is aware of the sudden, rising heat in his cheeks. This situation was very quickly running away from him. “One could say you’re an aspect of it, certainly, though there’s- there’s many variables I’m examining right now, so…it’s very involved, is what I’m getting at, and I wouldn’t want to- to undermine the process, you understand.”

“Right,” says Ed.

Ardeth is momentarily worried he’ll press the topic further, but of course there was no need to fret. Ed rarely pressed any topic, ever. It was highly out of character that he’d broached this subject to begin with. The conversation ends there, and Ardeth is free to fidget with his frayed sleeves and ramble about the local architecture until the others emerge from the trees.

iii.

Question: Why did Ed kiss me?

Hypothesis: I don’t know! And now I’m too embarrassed to ask! Maybe it was a test? Am I being tested? Am I failing?

Method:

—

Weeks pass like this. They say goodbye to the others. Ardeth makes no more progress.

It was a novelty, feeling this tongue-tied around Ed. He was candid by nature, and with Ed even more so. There was hardly a truth about himself he hadn’t shared with his warden. Ardeth wasn’t sure what to do with this sudden apprehension. It was getting in the way of his research — and more importantly, casting a strange, unfamiliar awkwardness over his interactions with Ed. 

Ardeth felt it more strongly now that it was just the two of them setting out for the next town. He couldn’t bear it. He missed talking to Ed without second-guessing everything he said.

Ardeth worries idly at his lower lip, staring at the poor excuse for an experiment scrawled in his journal. Weeks of observation and attempted engagement and he’d gotten nowhere. 

Perhaps he was going about this the wrong way, then. Talking clearly wasn’t working. If he needed more data maybe he ought to just— maybe he should—

The thought comes to him like dawn breaking over the horizon, a new valley of potential suddenly illuminated by rosy light. Maybe he’d understand it better if he experienced it again. Maybe there’d be some kind of clarity in a repeat performance.

“You alright?”

Ardeth startles out of his thoughts. Ed sat across the fire from him, tending to a tear in his tunic. “You weren’t talking,” he adds, in response to Ardeth’s quizzical look.

“Oh!” says Ardeth. “I was just thinking. About nature.”

Not a lie, technically, though the nature in question was more personal than environmental. He watches Ed return to his task and lets out a quiet breath. How exactly was he going to convince Ed to kiss him without outright asking him to do so? 

Would he have to stage something? Entice Ed in some way? The thought was both alarming and completely illicit. He half expected an Imperial investigator to emerge from the treeline, ready to indict him.

The thought of carrying on like this, in this strange shadow of their normal dynamic, was even more frightening.

The problem was he had no idea how to even begin enticing Ed. That kind of social artifice was not his forte. He’d read plenty of it in books, certainly; devouring tawdry romance novels by candlelight in the comfort of his hammock whenever he had a few coins to spare at the markets, an embarrassing but perfectly permissible indulgence. Surely there was something he could draw upon there?

He casts his mind back, trying to remember the details of the last book he’d read. Much of it had been highly improbable and painfully contrived, in the way of all good and silly romance novels — but who was he to judge, considering how improbable and contrived his own plans were. Regardless, it was a good starting point.

He takes a deep breath. Straightens his back.

“Ed,” he says, as casually as he can. “Don’t you think I ought to learn more about martial combat?”

Across the fire, Ed raises his head again. Blinks. “You wanna learn how to fight?”

“Well maybe not fight, exactly. Just enough to defend myself in close quarters— in the unlikely event that you’re not there to do it yourself,” he adds hastily, as Ed’s brow furrows. “Just a precaution!”

There’s a long pause as Ed considers it. He sets his tunic aside. “That’s fair. Come on.”

Ardeth has all of a minute to celebrate his victory, trotting along happily behind Ed as they move to a space a little further from their tent. Ed brings his sword, still in its sheath. Ardeth brings the dagger he was issued on his first assignment, still yet to see any real combat. It’s an unfamiliar weight in his hand as he squares up across from Ed.

The warden raises his sword. “I’m going to attack you,” he says. “What do you do?”

Ardeth’s eager smile falters. “Oh. Um.” He glances down at the dagger in his hand; raises it belatedly. “I…defend myself?”

Ed moves, faster than Ardeth can track. He yelps and drops the dagger, hands flying automatically to cover his head.

There’s a sigh. Ardeth cracks open one eye to find Ed watching him, sword still held mid-swing.

“First step is keeping hold of this.” Ed retrieves the dagger from the grass and presses it into Ardeth’s hand. Ardeth does a valiant job of not looking down at the point of contact.

“Right, yes. Probably a good idea.”

Ed’s face is as inscrutable as usual. “Chances are you’ll be smaller and weaker than anything that’s attacking you, so don’t fight them head on. Just focus on deflecting and fall back to wherever I am. Dagger’s no good for a frontal assault anyway. You’ll get your arm torn off, or they’ll duck inside your guard.”

Ardeth stares up at him with wide eyes. It’s perhaps the most words Ed has ever said in one go. He also hasn’t released Ardeth’s hand, and his skin is very warm. “R-right,” Ardeth stammers. “Deflecting. I understand the principle.”

“Try again.”

They try again. Ed swings the sheathed sword slower this time, giving Ardeth enough breathing room to get the dagger out in front of him. It still goes flying from his hand.

“Oh dear,” he sighs. “I’m not very good at this.”

Ed fetches the dagger once more. Ardeth reaches out for it, only for his warden to step right past him. He squeaks as Ed’s arms are suddenly around him, manoeuvring his own limbs like a puppet, correcting his stance and his grip.

“Deflect,” says Ed. “Redirect the strength of the swing elsewhere. Use the momentum of the enemy’s attack but shift it slightly to the side.”

Ardeth is sweating. It feels nice inside the circle of Ed’s arms, practically one step away from a hug. Ed had never hugged him. Carried him bodily out of battle, sure. Bore the brunt of a near-lethal fall by wrapping himself around Ardeth, certainly. But never hugged him. That wasn’t something wardens did with their mages. 

But if Ed wasn’t technically his warden anymore, and Ardeth wasn’t technically Ed’s mage, what did that make them?

“You’re thinking too loud,” Ed murmurs, right beside his ear. Ardeth shivers involuntarily, eyes fluttering closed of their own accord, leaning back into Ed’s arms and—

What did he think he was doing, exactly? 

Ardeth’s better judgement catches up to him abruptly — nevermind that this was the position he’d wanted to be in when he started this ridiculous training farce. 

He squirms his way out of Ed’s space and takes a stumbling step across the clearing. “You know what!” he says shakily. “I think— I think this was a mistake. I mean, what are the chances you’re not going to be around to protect me? And what are the chances a little bit of training will be the difference between life and death? Thank you though, this was still enlightening, um, I’ll probably just head to bed now, feeling a little tired after all that exertion, so—”

Ed steps forward wordlessly and closes one hand around Ardeth’s wrist. Belatedly he realises that he’d been waving the dagger around.

The apology that springs automatically to his lips dies just as quickly. Ed was watching him with a heaviness to his gaze that Ardeth only remembers seeing…well, only once before, really — plus all the times he’d replayed the scene in his head since then, lying awake and confused and wanting in his bedroll, within arm’s reach of Ed.

He remains frozen in place as Ed takes another step forward, closing the scant inches between them until they stood toe to toe.

“Ardeth,” says Ed.

“Mm?” he manages, not quite brave enough to chance speech.

Ed's face is so close that Ardeth can see the flecks of gold in his amber eyes, and the pale sliver of an old scar fading into his hairline. “You know if you want something,” he says softly, “you can just ask.”

Ardeth’s mouth is dry enough that he has to wet his lips before daring to talk. He could swear he sees Ed’s gaze flick downwards. “I…” Somewhere in the back of his head he can picture underlined passages in a protocol handbook, Romantic relationships are strictly prohibited, Respect your warden first and foremost, Any infractions will be met with disciplinary action and immediate reassignment. It was as if a huge chasm had opened up beneath him, with what has been on one side and what could be on the other. “Ed,” he says, little more than a breathless exhale, leaning up without really meaning to. “I’m— I want—”

There’s a sound from the treeline. Ardeth springs backwards.

“Goodnight!” he blurts, and all but runs for the tent.

iv.

Question: Why did Ed kiss me?

Hypothesis: If I could go back to how things used to be, would I even want to? Would it be worth losing whatever this strange closeness is?

Method:

—

By the time they realise the cheerful horned man at the crossroads had lied to them, it’s too late to turn back.

The blizzard sets in as if emboldened by the setting sun, howling so violently Ardeth thinks he could make out words if he tried. There’s nothing natural about how quickly they lose the rest of the Zirinid caravan they’d been travelling with, either. Wild magic at work.

“We should’ve tied ourselves together!” he cries, stumbling through the snow after Ed. All his concentration lay in keeping his footing and keeping his warden. He knew they could find the others once the storm passed. It was surviving the storm that posed the greatest threat to them all right now.

He’d cast Light on his stopwatch, holding it before him like a lantern. It hardly illuminated anything, its cheery glow muffled by a screen of whirling snowflakes. Still, any time they stumbled into a solid object he could hold it out and ascertain that yes, this was just another naked tree, or another boulder, or something else that offered them no shelter whatsoever. Ardeth had well and truly lost sensation in his hands. Not even the coldest nights on the airship had felt this cold.

It’s as he’s bemoaning the state of his extremities that he feels something shift underfoot. Ardeth pauses; takes an experimental step forward; can’t hear the quiet crack that follows, but certainly feels it.

“Ed!” he shouts. “I think we’ve gone in a circle, this feels like—”

The ice gives way like paper beneath him. Ardeth plunges into the dark.

He’d already been short of breath from the slog through the snow and the effort of making himself heard above the blizzard. He loses what remains of his breath immediately, the freezing water punching all the air from his lungs. He gets an involuntary mouthful of water and is instantly panicking, thrashing about wildly, his hands finding only emptiness. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see anything except the endless dark on all sides, vanishing below him and dragging him under. His warm winter coat was as good as an anchor now.

It’s not a conscious thing, reaching out to touch Ed’s thoughts with his magic, only instinct born from years of partnership. Ed, he howls. Please, Ed, help, help.

Something brushes against his hand. Ardeth’s mind conjures up images of what might lurk beneath the frozen lake. He takes another huge, panicked breath of water, feels a pain like nothing he’s ever experienced flood his burning lungs, and is dragged suddenly upwards.

Ardeth doesn’t remember the next few minutes very well, conscious only of the water he was heaving up, and his own blood like ice in his veins. He realises eventually that he’s lying on his side, Ed’s broad hands keeping him from toppling into the snow.

“Watch out,” he croaks, with his first full breath. “We’re on the lake.”

Ed scoops him up without preamble. Ardeth had lost his glasses; he can’t make out the warden’s face, only the blurry shape of Ed above him as he sets off quickly in some unknown direction. He doesn’t bother asking where they might be headed. The wind blew right through him as if he were a shattered window, shards of glass plunged into his chest, freezing each breath before it even formed.

He doesn’t know how much time passes. One moment he’s adrift in the blizzard, borne aloft like another speck of snow. The next, he’s deposited gracelessly on a cold, uneven surface, blinking frozen tears from his eyes. Ed was speaking to him. He struggles to resolve the words past all the cotton wool that had taken up residence in his head.

“—rdeth. Ardeth. Clothes off, c’mon.”

Right, of course. Standard protocol for hypothermia. He reaches half-heartedly for his coat, the sodden fabric frozen almost solid by the wind. It was difficult to muster the energy or desire to move.

There’s another pair of hands on him within moments, Ed helping him remove his waterlogged clothes with brusque efficiency. Ardeth is distantly grateful for his current stupor. Under other circumstances he’s sure he would have melted away from embarrassment. Of all the people to be doing this, of course it had to be Ed; Ed, who had sent him into such a spiral of confusion. But— who else would it be but Ed?

Something heavy and soft settles over him. Ed’s coat, he realises, as the warden tucks it tightly around his shoulders and under his feet. The warmth of it feels dizzying, a foreign sensation against his frozen skin. It smells like Ed. Ardeth turns his face into the fur collar and closes his eyes.

“No,” says Ed, and grabs him by the chin. “Stay awake. I need to make a fire. Stay awake for me.”

Ardeth struggles to do as he’s told. His eyelids feel like two immense stone doors, reluctant to be dragged open again.

There’s a harried-sounding exhale from above him. The hand under his chin tilts his face up a little further.

Sudden heat against his mouth. Just like— just like when—

Ardeth forces his eyes open. Ed was kissing him — and then abruptly not kissing him — sitting back on his heels and fixing Ardeth with a severe look. “Stay awake for me,” he says again, and clambers to his feet.

That’s not fair, Ardeth wants to wail. I couldn’t even enjoy it. I wasn’t even trying!

His mouth won’t cooperate. Instead he stares after Ed as he disappears into the darkness, realising at last where they’d taken shelter: a crevice the caravan had dismissed earlier in the afternoon, too small to accommodate all of them. It was hardly large enough to accommodate two of them — and Ed had to bend almost double to fit through the entrance. Outside, the wind still howled like some great beast ravaging the valley with its icy teeth. Hypnotic patterns appeared and disappeared in the narrow sliver of whirling snow he could see from his vantage point, calling him to sleep.

Ed reappears just as Ardeth is losing his fight with consciousness again, his arms full of small branches and deadwood that he arranges into a pile just inside the mouth of the cave.

“Need your magic,” he says, glancing over his shoulder. “Doubt they’ll catch.”

He holds something out. Ardeth squints at it for a long moment before recognising the shape of his stopwatch, back to its regular bronze now that the Light cantrip had faded. Relief cuts briefly through the numbness. “Th-thought I’d dropped it,” he stammers, reaching for it with a shaking hand. “Then we would’ve b-been in— real trouble.”

Ed kindly doesn’t mention any of the current trouble they were in, just leans back so Ardeth can summon clumsy flames around the pile of sticks. Not his best work, but it burns away the frost and leaves charred wood in its wake, ready for Ed to feed it more fuel as it dries.

The smoke would be a problem in this narrow space. The fuel wouldn’t last the night. If the wind changed direction they’d lose the fire completely. These were thoughts that left Ardeth’s head as quickly as they arrived, drifting off into the haze of his cold-addled mind. He watches dully as Ed works, teeth chattering so hard he thought he might crack something, throat aching from the lungfuls of ice water.

Time blurs again. He doesn’t even notice Ed moving until suddenly he’s being repositioned, directed gently onto his side and against something warm, a comfortable weight settling over his shoulders. There’s the familiar wool and canvas smell of a bedroll, and the familiar steel and soap smell of Ed.

Ardeth might blush if he had the warmth or the sense to spare. Instead, the blessed heat makes him want to weep. He presses his face into Ed’s chest and tries to imagine they were anywhere other than the cold, damp floor of a frozen cave.

An arm settles around his back. “Talk to me,” Ed says, breath stirring his hair.

His tongue feels heavy from exhaustion, his thoughts flimsy and faraway — but Ardeth always wants to talk to Ed. “You—” His voice comes out as a papery rasp. He clears his throat with some difficulty. “You k-kissed me again.”

“Mm.”

So he hadn’t imagined it. “Do you have any f-further plans of that nature?”

“Depends.”

“Depends?” Ardeth echoes, a little more forlorn than he’d intended.

Ed hums another confirmation. Ardeth feels it reverberate through his chest. “Depends on if you want me to.”

Yes, he wants to say. Kiss me now, please. The words get caught in his throat, lodged somewhere behind a great deal of fear. “I— what I w-want isn’t— I can’t…” He feels that pit beneath him again, a yawning chasm of uncertainty; the wonderful and terrible potential. 

It’s gonna be okay, Ed had told him. Even without the Empire. The thought makes him feel ill. His entire body aches. He can’t grapple with it now.

He burrows closer to Ed. Surely there was nothing wrong with enjoying this warmth while he had it. “Can you ask me again later?” he mumbles.

A quiet sound of agreement.

There’s no more conversation after that. The blissful heat of the bedroll is as enticing as the inertia of hypothermia. Ardeth drifts towards unconsciousness, lulled by the steady motion of Ed’s breathing.

It’s hard to be sure as he finally sinks into sleep, but he thinks he feels Ed readjust the arm around his shoulders, and the comforting pressure of a hand moving up and down his spine, very slowly, even through the heavy fabric of his borrowed coat.

—

In the morning Ed politely turns his back as Ardeth slips into his mostly-dry clothes, as if the previous night had never happened and he still had a modicum of dignity left. He says nothing about their misadventure either when they stumble into the rest of the frost-bitten caravan, who ask how they fared through the night.

Ed pulls something from his pack as they hit the trail again. Ardeth is still trying to resolve the shape of the object through narrowed, bleary eyes when Ed sets the spare pair of glasses on his nose, tucking Ardeth’s bedraggled hair behind one ear as he does so.

“What would I do without you?” Ardeth asks, and hopes he never finds out.

v.

Question: Why did Ed kiss me?

Hypothesis: Maybe I don’t need to know. Maybe we can just keep living like this forever. I wouldn’t mind it, really. As long as I get to stay with Ed.

Method:

—

The fight turns bad between one heartbeat and the next.

Ardeth had only taken his eyes off the troll for a second, casting around for somewhere to fall back to that wasn’t completely obstructed by debris. He looks back just in time to see the creature’s massive club catch Ed square in the chest, sending him flying across the battlefield.

He hits one of the bridge supports with a horrible crack, slumping to the ground in a cloud of dust and splintered wood. He doesn’t move after that.

Ardeth’s entire world shrinks to a handful of seconds.

All thought of retreat vanishes. Before he quite knows what he’s doing Ardeth is reaching deep into the well of his magic, finding a thread so bright and hot he hadn’t known he possessed it. It flares brighter at his command, igniting like phosphorus. He throws both hands out with a howl.

The bridge troll roars in response — and then roars again, louder, as fire engulfs its enormous body. It staggers towards Ardeth, reaching blindly for a few futile moments, then drops its club and tries to smack out the flames with its huge, meaty hands.

In the time it takes the fire to reduce the troll completely to ash, Ardeth is across the bridge and crouched over Ed, struggling to roll him onto his back.

“Come on,” he says. “Ed, come on. Get up. Get up!”

Ed doesn’t so much as groan. His eyes were closed, the side of his face crusted with blood and dust where he’d slammed into the wooden support. His head lolls to the side as Ardeth shakes him.

“Ed,” he whispers. “Please.”

It occurs to him that he ought to check for a pulse. He almost laughs. What an absurd thing to think of, that he should check for Ed’s pulse — Ed who had for all intents and purposes appeared consistently indestructible, as constant as the stars and just as reliable. It seemed almost an insult that he should check for Ed’s pulse, like Ed would open his eyes and fix him with an even flatter frown than usual, unimpressed that Ardeth would doubt his ability to survive whatever this place threw at him.

He does it anyway, pressing shaky fingers to Ed’s throat. Ardeth’s next breath hitches around a sob.

He’s not sure how long he sits there, in the end — Ed’s head in his lap, tears streaming unchecked, trying to breathe past the shattered pieces of his heart and the grief lodged in his throat. He sits there like a puppet cut loose from its strings, or a ship without sails; truly alone for the first time in years. He sits there long enough for the sun to sink low on the horizon, painting the sky a deep, bruised purple.

He barely notices the fireflies emerging until he’s surrounded by tiny pinpricks of blue, casting a strange glow over the bridge. Ed’s skin looks even more grey in the half-light. Ardeth reaches out dazedly to brush the warden’s bloodied hair back from his forehead — the first time he’s moved in hours.

“Blimey, that’s a nasty bit of work, huh?”

Ardeth is too exhausted to feel alarm. He turns his head slowly to see the squat figure of a green-skinned woman leaning against one of the bridge supports. She couldn’t have been more than two feet tall, and her hair was long enough that it trailed after her on the ground like a royal robe, adorned with an impressive collection of twigs and flowers.

“Yes,” Ardeth says, his voice little more than a painful rasp.

The strange woman pushes off from the post and wanders closer, stopping at Ardeth’s shoulder and frowning critically down at Ed’s still form. Her eyes gleam like a cat’s in the dark. “Well, he probably didn’t feel anything, so I guess that’s good.”

“Yes,” says Ardeth, because he supposes that’s true.

“Agreeable little fellow, aren’t you?” She turns her frown onto Ardeth. “Let me ask you one more thing, then. You love him?”

Ardeth glances down at Ed; feels fresh tears well in his eyes and spill down his cheeks, dripping onto the warden’s brow. “Yes,” he whispers.

The woman sighs. “Well, alright. You should probably kiss him then. No guarantees, but you’re sitting right on a ley line, and that’s a powerful magical intention you’ve got right there.”

The words wash over Ardeth like water over sand. He has to run them back several times before they make any sense, and even then he only understands about half of it. “What?” he says faintly.

“Ley lines, you know.” She raises her brows pointedly, as if that explained everything. “What did you think the troll was guarding? It’s worth a try is all I’m saying. But hey, you do you. I’m gonna head out now, give you some privacy. Good luck with it all anyhow.”

Ardeth blinks at her in confusion; blinks down at Ed. 

When he looks up to ask any number of clarifying questions he finds the bridge completely empty except for him, his warden and the fireflies.

It seems likely that he’d hallucinated the whole thing, a side effect of shock, exhaustion or desperation. But then again — what exactly did he have to lose?

It’s a struggle to move after so long frozen in place, but he lowers Ed gently back onto the ground, cushioning his head with one hand. Ardeth could almost imagine he was sleeping. That was a nice thought.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers raggedly. “I wish I was braver before.”

He leans down. Ed’s lips are cold against his. Ardeth swallows the urge to sob.

There’s a sound like leaves rustling in the wind, though it emanates from all around him. Ardeth leans back far enough to see a ripple pass through the fireflies. He watches with wide eyes as they begin to spiral in formation, a whirling vortex of light that shoots up into the sky, brighter than the stars that had emerged overhead.

He’s too startled even to yelp when the lights abruptly converge and plummet back towards the ground, hitting the middle of Ed’s chest and breaking over him like a wave. The light feels like static everywhere it splashes against Ardeth. It’s so bright his eyes smart with tears of pain as well as sorrow.

And then— as quickly as it had begun, the light disappears. Ardeth blinks furiously against the burning afterimage seared into his eyelids.

He’s still blinking when he hears a sharp intake of breath.

Ardeth looks down as if in a dream. Ed was stirring on the ground, eyes squinting against the last violet vestiges of dusk. When his gaze settles on Ardeth’s stricken expression his face loses some of its haziness.

“You alright?” Ed rasps, brow furrowing even further.

Ardeth stares down at him in disbelief. Ed was still pale and covered in blood, but he was most definitely breathing, and most definitely alive. As Ardeth watches numbly Ed reaches up with one hand to touch his shoulder.

“You alright?” he asks again. “What happened?”

There’s nothing much Ardeth can do at that point except burst into tears, the kind of full-body sobs he hasn’t experienced since he was a child, slumping forward so he can bury his face in Ed’s shoulder and weep. There’s arms around his back almost immediately, albeit heavy with an air of confusion that Ardeth can sense even in his current state.

“You were dead,” he sobs. “You were d-dead for hours and then there was a strange little woman and she told me to kiss you because we’re on a- a ley line, I think- and I did and then all the fireflies went into your chest and they brought you back and I love you, I love you, I was so scared, please never do that again.”

Absolute silence from beneath him. If Ardeth couldn’t feel Ed breathing he’d be concerned that he’d died again.

Then the arms around him tighten. One of Ed’s hands skims up Ardeth’s spine to settle against the back of his head, tangling in his hair. “What was that last part?” “Please never do that again?” Ardeth offers tearfully.

“Before that.”

“I love you?”

Silence again. Ardeth sniffles and leans back to look at Ed through his foggy glasses. It makes Ed’s expression even more inscrutable than usual. “I meant it,” he says miserably. “I do. I hope- I hope it’s okay that I—”

Ed pulls him down wordlessly into a kiss. His lips are still a little cold. They fix that pretty quickly.

[goodqueenaly]

Do we have an idea of what Daemon Blackfyre and Bloodraven thought of their father Aegon IV the Unworthy? It feels like their is next to nothing almost like he never existed to them or do you think this will be covered in the Dunk and Egg tales and Fire and Blood volume 2?

I do think this is an area where we may get slightly more in Fire and Blood Volume 2 - although I don’t know how much personal reflection from either Daemon or Daeron that book may have, given that at least Fire and Blood was told from a quite arms-length perspective, with virtually nothing in the way of character interiority (well, except where it wasn’t, but that’s another story). While it’s possible such memories may come up in future Tales of Dunk and Egg, any anecdotes would have to be second- or third-hand accounts, since both Daeron II and Daemon would be long dead by the time of any future Tale.

Nevertheless, I think we can look to how Daeron and Daemon publicly handled their father’s legacy. Both Daeron II and Daemon took care to underline their connections to their father specifically in the context of royal legitimacy and authority. Daeron II of course chose to wear his father’s gaudy, ostentatious crown of red gold - a rather ill-suited display for the far more temperate Daeron, but as Yandel notes “a decision likely intended to quell any remaining doubts about his legitimacy”. Likewise, Daemon’s eventual surname, as well as the very visible sword he bore which inspired it, both advertised Daemon’s link to his father: Daemon held up his father at the very least as a king from whom he could openly receive favor and royal acknowledgement (and, of course, legitimization and a path to the throne).

Yet neither Daeron nor Daemon, I think, wanted to embrace their father as a source of inspiration for rulership or policy making. Daeron II was quite direct in this aspect, according to Yandel: “removing all the members of the king's small council and replacing them with men of his own choosing”, repairing the City Watch (whose members, chosen by Aegon IV, were selected to “[make] sure that the brothels—and even the decent women of the city—were available for Aegon's lusts”), and most notably reversing his father’s bellicose course in negotiating a permanent peace and incorporation agreement with Dorne. While Daemon does not seem to have been quite so blatant in his rejection of Aegon IV’s policies, he nevertheless may have had reason to distance himself from his father in terms of would-be kingship. If Daemon called upon Aegon IV as a pro-war, pro-conquest, anti-Dorne king, he risked his listeners remembering the bungled and abortive campaigns the late king had attempted to direct during his reign - hardly a welcome comparison for a splendid young knight allegedly said to fight like the Warrior himself; likewise, while Daemon may have reached back to the memory of then-Prince Aegon fighting under his cousin the Young Dragon, he may have chosen his remembrances selectively, given Aegon’s wartime dalliance with Cassella Vaith. Easier, perhaps, for Daemon to adopt the mantle of a different Aegon - that is, Aegon the Conqueror, his (supposed) likeness, another warrior-king founder of a new royal dynasty as Daemon himself aspired to be.

It’s also worth pointing out that both Daeron’s and Daemon’s views on Aegon IV in their respective adulthoods and reigns (or would-be reign, for Daemon) were undoubtedly colored by their relationships (or lack thereof) and experiences with him during the late king’s lifetime. It is no exaggeration, I think, to say that Aegon IV spent a significant portion of his reign trying to undermine, humiliate, and exclude his son Daeron: his thwarted attempt to have Naerys judicially murdered, his attacks on Dorne, and finally his deathbed blanket legitimization of all of his extramarital children. Small wonder, in turn, if Daeron was not so eager to celebrate his father in death, or remember him with any particularly fondness.

As for Daemon, while it might have been an open secret, or at least highly speculated, that Daemon’s father was the then-Prince Viserys’ elder son (spending his childhood in the Red Keep, tutored by the royal master-at-arms, might have been a bit of a giveaway), King Aegon only formally acknowledged Daemon as his child when the latter was 12, only two years before the king himself died. I tend to think Aegon’s relationship with Daemon was less about the king spending what we might call quality time with his son and more about the king looking to use Daemon in his eternal battle against his heir; in any event, the king certainly did not have much time to establish himself as a strong paternal presence in Daemon’s life even if he had cared to do so.

[sl-walker]

December 29th, 2017

A piece of the December chapter of Stardust, whenever I finally manage to get there! Wherein Ted has made Plans™ and -- since it's his birthday -- Booster isn't allowed to give Ted any shit about them and just has to let himself get spoiled. 🤣

Happy holidays of whichever sort you celebrate, or happy birthday for the Carter twins if you don't celebrate any, and enjoy the bantering!

--

The dress code involved a blindfold.

The dress code involved a blindfold.

If it was anyone else who insisted on that, Booster might have been able to spit out some kind of joke about kinkiness, perhaps involving a birthday spanking, but since it was Ted, he just gaped like a slightly brain-damaged goldfish and flushed so hot in the face that he had to go and splash it with cold water in the kitchen sink.

(He had turned red more times in the past twelve months than he had in his entire life before that, and the blame for that was firmly sitting at Ted Kord’s feet. Except for those times it was sitting at Guy's, anyway.)

Booster knew he wasn’t getting laid tonight, but that didn’t stop his overheated brain from providing him a complete bombardment of scorching mental pornography.  So, after splashing his face with cold water, he also took a cold shower.  That, finally, got all of his blood flow issues to subside back to normalcy, though Booster had to admit they might not stay that way.

Whenever these ‘reservations’ were for, Ted wasn’t in too big a hurry.  Booster couldn’t have said whether that was a blessing or a curse or some weird amalgamation of both.  Ted let him dress himself so far as getting a black undershirt and his good button-fly jeans on — which were definitely the sexiest pair he owned for the way they framed his ass like a work of art (????!!!) — but Ted didn’t even let Booster get his shoes on after that.

And that was why Booster was sitting on the closed lid of his toilet, wringing his hands between his knees, unable to see even a glimmer of light because Ted’s idea of a blindfold sure as hell did its job effectively.

“How long am I gonna be wearing this thing?” he asked, trying not to sound too pathetic.

Ted was moving around; there was rustling and the medicine cabinet opening and then the quiet little ticky-noise that his phone was making as he scrolled or tapped something or another.  “‘Til we get there," Ted replied, sounding vaguely distracted.  "So-- depends partly on traffic.  And your good behavior.”

“Oh, boy, we’re in trouble,” Booster managed to say, voice cracking in the middle, after a moment where he wrestled with the critical psychic damage four words could cause a single human being.  “I haven’t behaved well for a single moment of my life, I don’t know why I should start now.”

“True.  I guess I’ll settle for moderately tolerable behavior under the auspices of a good blindfold.”  Ted said that so sanguinely that it was just inhuman. “Here, I’m gonna fuss around with your hair, okay?”

“Sure,” Booster said, with a giggle that edged hysterical, knuckles popping for how hard he twisted his fingers together.  He still ended up flinching when Ted slid fingers through his hair, feeling wound a few turns too tight, and winced apologetically.  He had people touching his face and applying makeup and styling his hair constantly for work, but apparently the context here was different enough that he wasn’t in that particular headspace, and he didn’t mean to make Ted think he was doing something wrong. “Sorry, I’m good.”

The almost-year that they had been friends now — even accounting for how much of that time was spent most of the way across a country from each other — had given the moments of silence between them a certain kind of language. And back at the beginning, the stretch of quiet that followed would have had Booster ducking and covering his head, at least metaphorically, but now he knew that it was just Ted— just Ted being gentle with him.

And every single time that realization came back around on him, it made him want to cry.

Ted hadn’t pulled his hand back yet, so the warmth and weight of it on Booster’s head was lit up in his mind like a lighthouse; he didn’t even quite realize how— how relaxing that was until his shoulders started unwinding almost without him noticing.  After a couple minutes of that quiet, that stillness, Ted asked tongue-in-cheek, “Actually good now?”

“How dare you imply my incredibly lame attempt to reassure you the first time was inadequate,” Booster said back, with an imperious sniff. “I, sir, am an actor.”

That started with Ted chuckling, but then it quickly built into a proper belly-laugh.  Booster had no idea what had gotten his best friend going, but he ended up grinning along anyway.  Then, still giggling, Ted went back to playing stylist. “Last time your acting skills came up, wasn’t that when you said you were gonna invite Superman to 'Dunkin' Deez Nuts'?”

Booster hadn’t forgotten he’d done that, exactly, but the immediate reminder had him choke on a laugh and then bust up himself.  Which probably made Ted’s attempt to pretty him up harder, but hey.  He laughed until his face ached from it and his gut was sore, then rubbed the hinges of his jaw despite the fact he was still smiling broadly. “Yes, my East Coast manners at work. I do believe that you’re correct, Reporter Kord.”

Ted hummed a happy sound, the kind that warmed Booster to his toes. “Of course I am, Mister Gold.  It was an incredibly memorable interview.  Award winning, in fact.”

“As if I could give anything less than a stellar interview.”  Booster let Ted push his head back a little, feeling about a hundred times more relaxed now, grinning at Ted’s chuckle in response. “No hints as to what this reservation is for?  Not even one?  Not even if I’m really, really good?  For a given definition, anyway, since this is me we’re talking about.”

“Not even one.  Sorry, birthday boy, you’re just gonna have to be patient.”

“There ya go, play to my obvious strengths,” Booster said, drier than Death Valley. “Patience is definitely one of those, yes siree.”

Ted laughed at him (because of course he did) and then just gently took his face in both hands and kissed him on the brow, so sweetly casual that he probably had no idea how fast Booster’s train of thought smashed nose-first into a wall. “Oh, I think you’ll manage,” Ted teased, voice like sunlight, playful and bright.

Booster couldn’t have been more effectively disarmed had he actually been disarmed.

[jester-lover]

hello!!! Not sure if you still do requests but could I request Tim wright from marble hornets as a father figure to emo/scene kid teens <33

(I centered this request in a post-series context)

Tim as a father figure to an emo/scene kid ( PLATONIC !!! )

CWs/ mental illness, treatment of mental illness, smoking, substances, alcohol, minor violence, bittersweet fluff (not proofread)

Firstly, Tim is surprised that anyone sees him as a paternal figure to any degree. After the shock fades, he’s kinda proud of himself and the fact that he’s got it together enough for someone to see him as a parental figure.

🎞️Most of the bonding time you and Tim have is spent out in the yard of whatever place you call home, sharing pitchers of ice cold sweet tea in the humid Alabama heat.

🎞️Tim’s life experience has proved him to be a good mentor in all things related to mental health and finding good coping skills. He’ll try his best to discourage substance abuse and encourage you to make good decisions when it comes to finding friends.

🎞️He’ll teach you some valuable practical life skills as well, stuff he’s picked up over the years and over his torment with the operator. Mostly small security measures and self defense tactics.

🎞️Starts a lot of his stories with “Back in my day…” and an overdramatized sigh because he knows you get a kick out of it. He does try to sanitize some of the more serious stuff he’s seen.

🎞️More often than not, Tim enjoys whatever emo/scene music you’re into, and gives you free rein over the aux cord whenever he’s picking you up/dropping you off at school.

🎞️You can trust that he’s perceptive towards your interests, he always remembers to get you band tees and fun stuff for your birthday and any other holiday you celebrate.

🎞️Tim would never undermine your issues as ‘teen angst’ or moodiness, because if anyone can understand emotional distress, it’s him.

🎞️ Even if he smokes, he’ll advise you against it; being a responsible adult and all.

🎞️ Maybe gets a little bit teary eyed every time he sees you enjoying your life with your friends, he’s just so happy his kid is getting everything he couldn’t.

🎞️He’s definitely the dad standing around the back of hardcore shows cheering on his kid as they pummel people in the pit, sometimes he even joins in.

🎞️The fact that you’re an emo/scene kid would also make Tim nostalgic about his own college days and the emo/scene people he hung around.

🎞️If he finds out his kid is getting bullied, Tim is the type of parent to support retaliation. He doesn’t like seeing people get kicked around, and will always encourage you to speak up.

🎞️At the end of the day, I think Tim would make a great dad/father figure, and raise his scemo spawn up to be a relatively healthy and content adult with whom he spends time with and speaks to regularly. His own mistakes ceased to define him when he had you to worry about.

[that1garrulousfan]

This is that self-indulgent AU-

I was heavily inspired to make this into a written form by @doodledoesthing3 , @ninjablasterzx , @daydreamer36 and @guppieishere .

Also one last thing to clear up possible confusion, since I’m so indecisive, HyperHumor has a different backstory in every AU she’s in to specifically fit the context/plot. So this is fresh outta the oven, baby! :]

Sorry if it’s cringe, I haven’t written in a while!

23 minutes.

HyperHumor was created for the sole purpose of being a close friend of the Bubba Bubbaphant character in the Smiling Critters series produced by PlayTime Co., celebrating the new collection of colorful, scented plushies.

They didn’t have to know each other; it was automatic. With no need to understand or know her own identity, or anyone else’s, all she had to do was exist and play her role.

Her first and only appearance took place on the fourth episode, “The Spotlight Shuffle” where she’d reunite with her pachyderm pal and ask him if he’d like to perform with her on a big stand up, which causes him to spend more time with her over his friend group in the process, leaving them to worry if he considers her over them.

23 minutes.

“It’ll be alright. And I can visit you whenever!” Hyper chirped with a bright smile, holding her friend’s hooves. Bubba smiled back in response, “Mhm. And we’ll be here once you do.”

And it was over. All wrapped in a pretty little bow and done with.

She spent the next five years in isolation and silence.

-

She couldn’t feel anything at first. Her eyes were open, but she couldn’t piece where she was. Her ears barely picking up a single wave of coherent sound. Not that she knew what it would be anyway. There’s only so much one can remember from 23 minutes. A few measures of music, bits of scripted lines, a handful of colors, the elephant’s name for sure…

Hyper shuffled on the ground, struggling to stand up without falling back down. It was weird. Her body felt numb, yet everything hurt. Another thing she wasn’t used to. Back in the cartoon, her home, pain was exceptionally temporary and minor, but here, every waking moment was agonizing.

She felt as if an unbearable weight was keeping her in place although she was certain nothing was near her. Weird. She thought.

Which was weird as well! It’s been so long since she’s even heard her own “voice”. Or thought. Let alone for herself. Everything was usually predetermined to be true and that was who she was. Whatever the creators wanted her to be.

Did she even have control of herself? Are these thoughts even her own?

Every move, every word, every problem, every solution was written and planned. And she was aware of it!

Was this planned too?

Why is she thinking like this then?

Hyper couldn’t recall walking towards the door, she simply found herself there, her hand pressed against the wall that she couldn’t even feel. Her senses were disconnected. Was she… standing? Probably? Maybe? She should be, right? How else could she have gotten there?

And why did her head hurt so much? The constant throbbing sensation made her want to tear her way through her fur and rip her brain out of her skull. Her vision was blurry, everything around her was seemingly fading away into the darkness.

None of it made sense.

What is this place?

Why was she here?

Why does she feel this way?

Her heart rapidly pounded in her chest, her breaths were shallow and uneven, as if daggers were stabbing into her lungs.

She rubbed her temples with her fingers in slow motions, humming something to herself, too tired to form any actual words of consolation.

The more time she spent trying to calm down, the more time she spent fantasizing about being back home. A place she could hardly remember all on its own.

Thinking of things that brought her comfort, helped her forget about the distress she was in in order to stay calm. However, this was always seen as “problematic” according to the creators. They believed that behavior would cause the children to develop unhealthy ways of coping and destroy their mental health. Not that it mattered anymore, right?

It’s not like they can read her mind anyways.

She took slow, deep breaths.

Home.

Home was nice.

Her ears rang, a loud sizzling, high-pitched noise.

They were punishing her for her sinful act.

The walls bore nice messages.

Were there pictures?

Her breathing quickened and heaved. She could barely feel the sweat dripping down her face.

Pictures would be nice.

Maybe she could take pictures of her with her friends and hang them up when she went back.

She rubbed her eyes with her free hand, blinking a few times before everything finally came into focus. Cold sweat ran down her face as it immediately when pale.

Dark. Very dark.

And… red?

She heard voices.

Voices!

People were here!

What are they talking about?

Maybe they can explain what’s happening!

Yes! She could get help!

She had so many questions and—

Wait.

They’re not talking.

Not at all in fact.

Are those…

“S-Screams…?” Hyper muttered to herself in confusion. She shuddered a bit, wincing in pain.

She hadn’t spoken in so long, it scared her how raspy and quiet her voice was.

Suddenly, her hand slipped, the door she happened to lean on swung open much too fast for her to react. She fell face first into the other room. More red. A lot of red. Everywhere.

She was breathing it in!

Her body gave out, her senses intensifying as the situation did.

Screams.

Sobs.

Shrill cries of names.

Thuds.

Slashes.

Splatters.

Roaring.

More screams.

Even faster footsteps.

The last thing she saw before blacking out was a clock dead center across the room, which read 10:13am.

🚫Please don’t repost, trace, steal and/or use my artwork for AI!🚫

🚫Do not plagiarize my work!🚫

if you want, please give me feedback

[mitch4tune]

My Aroace Journey

Teacher during Sex Ed: You'll all feel sexual attraction at some point. Me, years later, still waiting and panicking: Where is it? *manic chuckle* Wh... Where the hell is it...??

I've only really celebrated Valentine's Day once (aside from exchanging cards with my class in elementary school), so I'll contribute to the aromantic awareness that's been trending on Tumblr by sharing my experience of how I found out I'm aroace.

I first heard of the term "asexual" in an LGBTQ context in September or October of 2020 because of Alastor's sexuality being officially confirmed. "Very interesting! Can't be me," I thought.

I got into researching and asking reddit anyway. I think I determined that I'm ace later that year in October.

In April of 2021, the thought of me possibly being aromantic as well struck me. I hated that thought, telling myself, "I've already had one thing taken away; why do I have to lack something else?!"

(I want to clarify that lacking sexual and romantic attraction doesn't make someone any less of a person.)

Once I accepted that I'd probably never fall in love, I ironically got into a romantic relationship in July and determined that I'm demiromantic. During that relationship, I experienced waking up looking forward to messaging them each day, seeing the world in more saturated colours, and even properly enjoyed my first Valentine's Day date. I'm forever grateful for all of that.

The relationship lasted a little more than a year before I fell out of love (that doesn't mean I don't still love them; I'm just not in love anymore). A year after the breakup, a friend suggested that I could be cupioromantic. I joined the subreddit and described my situation, to which someone recommended I check out r/lithromantic.

I spent a long time feeling like I'd gotten robbed of something again ("Why can I even fall in love if that's going to be taken away after it's returned?"), but I eventually accepted my orientation despite still getting sad about it every now and then.

I speculated on another part of my identity from January to February of 2024. I'm not comfortable saying what it is yet, but I will say that a big part of that ordeal was spent worrying about how my identity would affect other people, which is ridiculous; your identity is part of you; not anyone else.

I only told two people because I felt disgusting for the thought even having crossed my mind randomly. I don't know why, since I'll always speak in favor of people who identify that way. But I still felt that way, no matter how much I reassured myself. No matter how much those two friends reassured me.

I came to the conclusion that it doesn't apply to me (though I'm not putting it completely off the table).

That brings us to now. I'm exhausted. (^ ^ ;) I'll end this off with some memes I saved up while I was still in the closet. Happy Valentine's Day!

[vidalinav]

Promp! Nessian subtle touches!!! Like they are not together together yet but they give eachother little touches?? Kind of like before all the a*sf fiasco, i don't know i just want soft nessian

I sort of wrote something for this... but I made it sad face. :D but it’s actually more Nesta having anxiety.

This is basically if Cassian hadn't immediately run off to the snow ball fight and they had their morning after. Basically for context, after this scene, they'd have to go see the rest of the family after they've basically accepted the mate bond. SO... awko taco, but I didn't write that part.

~

Nesta always dreads the morning afters and perhaps that's why she never invites Cassian to stay. There's no drunken allure, no fascination, no great lust that overrides her senses enough to forget that she is with another person... lying in her bed, less than perfect... something stale and sweaty, while she tries to forget the night.

But Nesta finds she doesn't particularly want to forget this night. She doesn't want to get out of bed either.

Cassian’s arms are wrapped around her and his wings are lazily lounging across her way, blocking out the sun and instead of clambering out of sheets, Nesta wishes to trace the fabric of his wings and see what he might do. Would he get mad? Would he settle in sweet sighs? Would he let her touch him, over and over again, just as he had last night?

Last night feels like a dream where they are surrounded by stars. Light winds around their hearts, knotting and twisting into something permanent and precious. Nesta has an inkling of what it is, but she won't say it out loud. Let him admit it first. If he dares, let him speak his mind and she'll tell him that she'd always hoped it was him. That it was always meant to be him, even when she contested so greatly to herself that he wasn’t meant to be hers. 

They fit somehow. Her head rests in the crevice of his neck and she's tucked so neatly next to him. Their limbs are twisted together and surely they've become so entwined that no two people exist. Only one soul. One body. One star shooting across the night.

But now it's morning and just like the sun, Cassian blinks awake.

He smiles as he sees her. Nesta can't help the soft grin. It arises from her face without any great fanfare and it settles just like the warmth on her skin. 

“Thank the Mother,” he says, his voice rough with sleep. "I thought you were a dream.” 

"I didn't want to wake you," Nesta says as she lightly trails a finger across the fine tendons still wading across her body. Cassian shivers and he takes her hands, placing a reverent kiss to each knuckle.

He's quiet as he kisses her awake, kisses her back to life. Her skin turns pink at his touch and there must be something to be said about the color that returns in light of his presence. He soothes her and thrills her all at once.

"They'll be searching for us soon," he confesses, a little smirk playing with his features. Nesta tries not to wrinkle her nose, but Cassian kisses there, his hands weaving through golden brown waves. "I doubt they'll let us miss breakfast."

Bunch of busybodies, she thinks, but before Nesta can rant her lungs clear, Cassian is pulling her closer. An impossible feat, really, because there’s no way they could be any more entwined. Not unless they burrowed their way to the center, where that splitting star sits. 

"There will be pancakes. French toast. Oatmeal... and I even made sure they'd have those strawberries you like. There's cake left too, perhaps we can make a celebration of it."

A celebration, an announcement, some rejoice of pleasure. A finally.

A finality.

Cassian sounds excited as he says the words, but Nesta can only think of morning afters. 

There's a shame to it, isn't there? That everyone should know about how she's spent her time and whose she spent it with. She swears there was a concern there at one point... though she doubts they will mind much now that it’s Cassian. 

But it is Cassian.

Nesta has always been full of secrets and this is but one that will be ripped from her grasp. If it exists outside quick romps, it will exist outside bedroom walls. The secret will no longer be safe and hers alone. 

It will no longer be theirs--safe where it's clasped within her hands with tightened fists.

“What worries you,” Cassian asks softly... slowly... But Nesta doesn’t know what to say, what to reveal. Will he keep her secrets? If those walls are knocked down, will he guard those walls he’s plundered? "Don't you want to see the others?"

Nesta swallows, staring into hazel with her heart a roaring song.

How does she say she doesn't know what she wants? How does she speak a truth that will tear him apart? How does she speak without the inevitable sighs, the impatience, as if she's arrogant and not troubled? Her world is being ripped to pieces just like her soul, and he's holding her together merely by his arms--his embrace.

Why does love feel so sickly? She feels like she's humming out of her body and her limbs must move, but will she run? Will she freeze? Will she fight and tear them both apart?

So Nesta instead tightens her hold where her arms are wrapped around him. She chooses to cling, and she leans her head on his chest, willing herself to stop screaming when her voice makes no sound.

"I want to listen to your heart," she answers, "for just a little while longer."