#completely unrelated side note but i wish i was dead

[mariusroyale]

isn’t it weird how the worst thing in your life can just happen to you and then it’s like. tuesday

[neko-naruto]

Camera Film (blurry and faded)

Summary: The last one alive, the only survivor of the wretched killing game- but, he wishes he was dead with the rest of them.

Warnings: major character death, body horror, mourning, machine gore (sort of???), check tags for further warnings.

Authors Note: @sobredunia THIRD KENIKARI FIC, FEATURING, UNFILTERED DETAH ANGST BECAUSE THAT'S HOW WE ROLL! *clears throat* I've been thinking about how much fucking guilt and trauma the survivor is gonna be left with, this is like, really short though compared to how much I usually write. Anyways, this fic is brought to you by waking up and Dunia showing me some quality Detah art and then I sort of, wrote this, and its completely unrelated to the art at that. If you read it please consider leaving a reblog as they really help with my motivation!

"No!"

His voice was raw as he screamed, desperately reaching for Lares hand but missing. She fell back first into the vat of acid, her clothing sizzled just as fast as her skin melted. He couldn't bring himself to look away as her form distorted, her cries came out garbled and broken, syllables slurred into each other. Only when she was entirely melted did he look away, slumping backwards onto solid ground.

"Congratulations!" The Mastermind cheered, a green screen lowering down from the roof. A tangle of wires and mechanical tentacles helped lower down her disembodied screen. The smugness she wore and the confetti on her screen meant nothing to Detah who couldn't bring himself to look up from the ground.

Detah choked back sobs.

"You're the last one alive, you should be cheering! You should be happy!" The Mastermind exclaimed, the screen lowered to pivot itself to be at Detahs side.

"I'm the last one," He barely managed to get it out, he shrunk against the red fabric a little bit more. Razor sharp teeth ground together as he stifled back tears threatening to spill.

The sound of metal doors opening rung out, moonlight filtered in, "And there's your way out; but don't worry!" She laughed maliciously as she spoke, "I'll make sure to get their graveyards location to you for later!"

Detah stood up, brushed himself off, and punched a hole directly through the green screen. He pulled back his hand and shook off the small shards of glass clinging to his skin, a couple punctures were made. Then he did it again, cords came out this time and what remained of the picture was crackling and blacking out.

"Fuck you," He spat the words with enough venom to counter the Geographic Cone Snail, if The Mastermind could still hear him he hoped she was cowering in his boots. He tossed the handful of torn and frayed copper wires into the vat of acid, "Just, fuck you, I would tell ya to suck my dick but you're too scummy for that honor."

He would've kept disemboweling the machine but the bitterness in his throat and the shake that threatened to render him motionless came out on top. He did tear the screen from it's mechanical tentacles and stomp it, spiked boots tearing through glass and machinery like a hot knife through butter. He gave it a reluctant shove into the acid, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

How is he supposed to live?

He was friends with them, and then he watched them die- he helped them die.

And now he just, has to go on?

Yeah, he'll manage, he'll live with or without them, he still has a sister to take care of at home. He can get a job, he could be a crime detective, he knows what bodies look like under all sorts of death scenarios. He would be great at it! He'll just do that until his sister can sustain herself on her own and then he'll figure something else out.

That doesn't stop his steps from staggering as he steps ever closer to the door. It doesn't stop his mind from going blurry as he edges ever closer to those metal slabs. It doesn't stop the tears from finally spilling over as he breaches the the gate, basked in moonlight and a chilling breeze.

He can't do this.

He turns to step back but the entrance is gone.

He's stuck out here now.

Detah took a heavy breath as he stared at the tombstones all laid out in front of him, he clutched the bouquet in hand a little bit tighter.

He laid one of each at every grave, he never found out their favorite flowers so he went on instinct. But his gut feeling about them has faded over time, it's been so long since he was given a chance to properly mourn and look over what they were like. It's been so long since he's last seen them, years at this point, it hasn't treated him well.

He places a sprig of blueberries on Blues tombstone, he can't quite recall much more than her name.

He drops a mangled strand of lavender on Murasakis, he remembers that he was an asshole.

He puts a white lily on Chuyos tombstone, white petals, a chilly feeling, he always wore snow gear.

He puts a small bundle of wildflowers on Makos, chaotic like what he remembers of her.

He places a blossom of a chestnut tree on Alexs, he knows that the Brit was regal.

He places bee bomb on Bees, she was too quiet for him to garner what else about her asides from names.

He places hyacynths on Uzomis, they stand out from the rest just like she did.

Lastly, he places a jar of moths on Lares, it isn't a flower, but he owes all of his moth knowledge to her.

He takes a seat by her tombstone and gives a heavy sigh, "I miss you guys."

He pops the cap off the jar of moths and urges them to crawl from their confines, they latch onto the rock making up the tombstone. A couple fly off, a purplish hue casts across the sky and reflects to the ground below.

"I could've saved you, one of you! But I didn't," He gives another deep breath and slow exhale, "I'm sorry."

He doesn't know why it still stings when he's greeted with silence despite the fact he knows he'll never hear them again.

[xaharadesert]

Immortal MC & Reincarnated LI - Headcanon Pt 2

Arcana Characters (Muriel, Asra, Nadia) x MC

A/N: Part 2 for the lovely @firefly-child! See part 1 for details, it should be the post just before this one! I swear I’ll learn how to make a master post one day :) Nadia’s part turned a bit more introspective than romantic, but honestly, it felt more interesting than simply repeating the same few points about eternal love that I used previously, so I hope you don’t mind!Thank you to everyone who reblogged and left comments on the last post, you’ve all really motivated me! And thank you to everyone who has sent in requests recently, that’s definitely a big boost to my confidence! Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammatical mistakes :) requests are open!

TW: mentions of death

💚Muriel💚

You would have to wait for Muriel to settle comfortably into your relationship before telling him about your immortality, but believe me, it would be worth the wait

At this point, he genuinely trusts you, and knows you wouldn’t lie to him (beyond a couple minutes where he thinks you might be trying to prank him)

He’s not entirely certain how to respond to the revelation and situation as a whole, so he simply… accepts it

Although he doesn’t really ask many questions about it, please don’t assume that he’s not interested

He is— but since you waited so long to tell him, he assumes it may be a sensitive topic, and wants to wait for you to open up at your own pace

His favourite tales from your past are the more mundane ones— he likes to hear about different creatures you’ve met, and places you’ve traveled to that no longer exist

But, to be perfectly honest, he would listen to you talk about almost anything if it made you happy

If you try to subtly hint about his past lives, it’ll go completely over his head

He’ll assume they were simply past lovers, unrelated to each other or himself, cherished, but long gone

So when or if you decide to reveal the nature of his own existence to him, he would be even more surprised than when you initially announced you were immortal

But once again, this ultimately leads to acceptance

A part of him is glad that he can be reincarnated by your side in an endless cycle, even if he can’t remember it

It means that the two of you were meant to be together, and that you would support each other come what may

He won’t ask about himself, and frankly, he doesn’t really want to know

Muriel doesn’t feel the need to compare his current self to his past selves, partially because he doesn’t want to feel as though he’s falling short

He still has days where he feels ostracized, like he doesn’t quite fit in with the life he believes you deserve, and the idealistic implication that comes with reincarnation is one he’d rather not taint

💙Asra💙

Shockingly, he wouldn’t believe you right away

You might think that due to his own connections to magic, he would be one of the first people to accept that you’re telling the truth

But he’s never encountered an immortal on the same plane of existence he lives his everyday life on (and the fact that you had died before did nothing to help)

However, his heart tells him that you’re telling the truth, and he already knows you would never lie to him about something so enormous, so, try as he might, he will eventually believe you

Once he comes to terms with it, he thinks it’s amazing— or more specifically, that you’re amazing

He loves to hear you talk about the past; adventures you’ve had, people you’ve met, places you’ve been, and especially magic you’ve learned

Magic is an ever-evolving concept, and although your old knowledge might not apply to the present, he stills enjoys learning about how it evolved (and it doesn’t hurt that your eyes light up whenever you divulge what you believe to be a particularly interesting fact)

Occasionally you mention a significant other from your past, and his heart seems to tug at him with a feeling he can’t quite place

Jealousy? Longing? … Familiarity?

One thing that genuinely bothers Asra is the fact that one day he’ll grow old, and pass on, and you’ll still exist, alone

So when you reveal to him that he’s been by your side almost as long as you’ve been alive, he’s thrilled

He has no issue accepting that he’s a reincarnation of your past lover, simply happy to know that the two of you are genuinely intertwined on a level that can never be touched by death

Asra rests easier at night knowing that nothing could ever truly separate the two of you, even if he was to die

A small, morbid part of his brain questions if his heart will return to him whole in his next life, or if you will continue to share it— and more importantly, how many more times could he split it in half if you were to be the one to pass away again?

For the most part, he doesn’t think about the possibility that you might be the one to die, but the though does occasionally come to him in the dead of night

And now, knowing that the two of you are so integral to each other that you would find him no matter what life he lived, he is fully aware that he would go to horrendous lengths to keep death from pulling you away

But of course, he tries to focus more on the relief he feels that he’ll never have to leave you, and you’ll always find a way back to him

💜Nadia💜

She doesn’t doubt you, even for a moment

You know infinitely more about magic than she does, and she trusts that you wouldn’t lie to her about something so important

With that being said, by announcing your immortality to her, you’ve just opened the floodgates to infinite questions

She wants to know everything about the past, no matter how mundane you may believe it to be

Nadia is a firm believer in the idea that history repeats itself, and she wants to learn from the past so she can help Vesuvia grow into a better future

She’s quick to make connections that even you may have never thought to make, and is clearly pleased with her own ingenuity (as she should be, she’s amazing)

She seems to be enthralled with even the most basic of knowledge you can provide about past civilizations, and makes a point to take as many detailed notes as possible

Questions about even the smallest details are a constant, so best of luck to you if your memory isn’t perfect

She tries to keep quiet if you seem to be particularly emotional about a certain tale, but sometimes she can’t help but ask for clarifications

You might need to gently remind her that you’re her lover, not a specimen

Setting boundaries about these questions is probably a wise choice

Nadia offers you a more official position as an advisor to make up for her work life bleeding into your down time together

It’s fine if you decline, though— the two of you can work out a certain time every day or two for her to ask whatever questions pool in her mind

When you finally reveal to her that she was alive during most of these past events as well, her initial response is frustration

She’s very much annoyed that she can’t remember her past lives, and wishes she could draw on past experiences to better herself in the present

Overall, her questions remain focused on general life and governments of the past, and she rarely asks questions about her past selves

She feels no need to hear about her old exploits, unless they contain something that you feel could be important to her now

Although she never feels the need to compare herself to her past, she does wonder if some part of her lives accumulated into what she currently was

And if that were true, what would she be like in the future?

In love with you, no doubt, as there was no way she could see herself alone, but would she continue to be good?

Would she always be someone in a position of power? Or would she step away from it in her next life, in exchange for more time with you?

To some degree, it soothes her to know that no matter what she does in her lifetime, she can make up for it in the next

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding XVIII

Part I - - - - - - - - - - - - - Part XV - - - - Part XVI - - - - Part XVII

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

All Conversation stopped when Obi-Wan opened the door.

The air crackled with energy as the assembled Jedi Masters (and Anakin) paused their obviously fierce debate. After a beat, their was the utterly distinct sensation of several Masters releasing their mixed emotions to the force in an overheated wave, leaving behind only serenity (mostly). Obi-Wan’s heart keened. Of course, at the time, the tendency of council meetings to devolve into petty squabbles had been a constant source of frustration but after three years where his only source of debate was haggling over stolen goods...well.

Obi-Wan smiled, aching softly at the sight of the friends and colleagues, miraculously alive and whole.

The Nautolan Healer- the person in the room with whom he was least familiar- cleared their throat and began speaking. “Master Kenobi, welcome. I want to start off by saying you are under no obligation to-”

Yoda cut them off, “A Jedi, Master Kenobi is, Obligated he is-”

“My patient, he is, Grandmaster,” they bit back. “I know soul healing might have been looked down on when you were in training, but I would have thought-”

Master Koth interrupted, disapproval permeating the room, “And we would have thought you would have more respect when addressing your senior Jedi.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Master Mundi blustered.

Chattering rang out as everyone in the room began talking at once.

“Master, are you alright?” Anakin asked urgently.

The conversation shut down again as the group turned to look at the man in question. Who was biting down on this fist and shaking slightly.

“I told you-” Adi Galia began. Argument erupted once more and Obi-Wan doubled over with laughter.

“Something funny, you found?” Yoda asked as Obi-Wan tried to stop laughing. “Share, you can.”

Obi-Wan inhaled sharply, wiping at the corner of his eyes and forcibly pulling himself out of his explosively giddiness, “My apologies grandmaster, i’m afraid it’s not actually that funny- I simply missed the unique tones of a high council meeting.”

“All council meetings are like this?“ Bant asked, sounding unimpressed.

“Some more than others,” Master Koon acknowledged, rubbing a hand to his forehead.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat, “Master Aerdo, I appreciate your support and while I am now doubt in need of the services of a Soul Healer- it is for rather different reasons than...outward appearances have let you to believe. Now shall we all have a seat?”

Koth frowned “All of us? I thought this was a council matter, not a personal one.” Bant and Anakin stiffened.

“It’s both.” Obi-Wan responded calmly. “But beyond that, I assure you, we will be needing the skills of everyone in this room. Master Nu, Master Che- I don’t wish to impose if you need to return to running your own domains, but I would very much appreciate your presence if your willing. I think you will find it worth your time.”

“I wasn’t planning on leaving even if you asked, so I’m pleased to accept your invitation.” Master Nu replied, cheerfully taking a seat. The rest followed and Obi-Wan joined them at the head of the holo table, eyes lingering over the assembled group. He took a breath.

“The first thing you need to know is that I have detailed knowledge of one potential future. A future I intend to prevent. A future I lived through...”

- - - - -

It is necessary to note that everyone in that room had led, in one way or another, a rather remarkable life. This was the main reason none of them could claim that the next two and half hours were the most shocking they had ever experienced. It is more than likely it was the most shocking meeting any had attended.

“We would have seen if the Sith had risen to such power!”

“Oh? Just as we would have seen if the Sith had survived at all? I remember having a similar conversation to this one 10 years ago-”

“We would have noticed- for force sake he’s visited the temple, we’ve all shaken his hand-

“Arrogant, the council has become. Seen this I have. Arrogant, I have become.”

“Skywalker may have a point about mind control, tactically-”

- - - - -

“If what you’re saying is true, though I still think perhaps some more time with Masters Aerdo and Che wouldn’t be unwarranted-”

“Oh, enough all ready Ki. We’re not going to get anywhere if you keep this up.”

“Wait- I actually have something that might help convince you that I do have overly detailed knowledge of the future- we- actually can I get some flimsi? Thank you, Anakin- a few months from now Master Mundi and I ended up trapped behind enemy lines for an extended period of time. It’s hard not to learn a few things about one another when that happens. Here you are-”

". . .”

“I told you that?”

“You, uh, didn’t really have much of a choice.”

“Oh gods.”

“Now, do you believe me?”

“Well...I suppose- I can’t really imagine how else you could possibly know considering you can’t possibly have spoken to-”

“Of course not! Honestly, how would I have been able, even if I wanted to?”

“I have never wanted to steal a message this badly in my life”

“Same”

“Yes, read the flimsi, we all want to. Welcome to, clearly we are NOT.”

Master Koth who had begun to lean suspiciously far back in his chair, fell forward with a clatter, rapidly releasing guilt into the force.

“Yes, well...hm...The force has obviously given you...an unusually wide window of insight. It would be...remiss of us to ignore it.”

“Kriff, we’re never going to know what that note said, are we?”

“No.”

- - - - -

“That’s utterly impossible- I’m sorry Obi-Wan but you’ve obviously been tricked.”

“I’m sorry Plo. Believe me, I know. I- I don’t think they were themselves.”

“If it happened suddenly enough...when we were all in the field, isolated-”

“Being surrounded by our troops is not the same thing as being isolated!”

“Agreed. Explain what you mean by ‘not themselves’”

“Well, I had just defeated General Grievous.”

“Oh, hey! Nice!”

“Thank you, Anakin. I was rejoining the troops after defeating the General- My Commander handed me back my lightsaber, which I don’t think he would have done if he was planning on- well. I began- .”

“Hold on a moment. Do you mean to say you defeated Grievous without your lightsaber.”

“I’d rather not get into the distasteful specifics-”

“Ha! That means he used a blaster.”

“Keep a better grip on your saber, you should.”

“Enough interruptions- please allow him to get to the point.”

“...Master Koon, perhaps you should take a moment to release your emotions.”

“I will do so in a moment, continue Obi-Wan.”

“Yes, Cody seemed completely normal when I spoke to him. I began riding Boga up the cliff face to meet up with a rendezvous when the force started getting...dark. Darker than it had been. I heard- distant screaming. Death. It-”

“Wait, Boga? Whoargh”

“MASTER KOON CALM DOWN”

- - - - -

“...My apologies Knight Skywalker. I have had an...abnormally mentally taxing morning. My control is somewhat damaged...”

“No worries, happens to everyone, right?”

“...Let’s return to the room and discuss this later.”

- - - - -

“To breach the temple, need a force user familiar with our protections, they would...My padawan...dead at this time, he was, yes?

“Yes, Master, Yoda. It- Anakin had technically defeated him four days prior.”

“Technically?

“You- I’m sure you did defeat him- I was unconscious at the time but I’m certain of that much at least- but it was a trap. We were on a rescue mission and- I think Sidious wanted him eliminated at that point, so he could assume full control over both sides.”

“...He really has arranged things to win no matter, hasn’t he?”

"Obi-Wan, the temple purge- how-”

“I- I wasn’t on the planet at the time...”

“Well, do you have any idea what he might have done to control the clones?”

“Yes, I do have one theory actually-  I didn’t witness any of these events first hand, but several months before the purge, one of the troopers killed Master Tiplar in a fit of madness- claimed not to clearly remember doing so and was sent to Kamino to be examined. Later, another clone- Fives- attempted to assassinate the Chancellor, accused him of working with the separatists as part of a conspiracy. The Chancellor’s medics claimed he had a tumor from a parasite on Ringo Vinda but in light of what happened after...well.

“...Why would we not investigate that.”

“Shaak Ti did, but her report was...vague. I only saw her two more times in person between now and the end. Her force presence was- shadowed. Not fallen, but...tired.”

“And you didn’t follow-up? None of us did?”

“...I can not even begin to express how much was happening at the time.”

“Nevertheless, Master Kenobi-”

“To be absolutely blunt I didn’t even remember the report until I was several months into hiding, with little else to do but meditate on the past. It just- fell into the cracks. Like a lot of things.”

“Force. We’re not assigning blame, we’re just attempting to understand. The knowledge of Palpatine...well it helps us understand a bit better how we got to where we are now. But how we got from here to there...”

“Yes, of course.”

“. . .”

“Obi-Wan?”

“Sorry- just...marshaling my memories. As I said before, the last year of the war was increasingly straining, with unrelenting pressure on the Order coming from all directions. None of us were at our best, but it in hindsight I was...still reeling...in particular. From- force I still can’t believe all that happened in six months- fuck. Sorry. Pardon my language.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about us- just keep going,”

“Krell betrayed us horrifically- I don’t think 501st or the 212th ever got over it. Immediately after that was that absolute clusterfuck of a mission- I spent a month in a Zygrian Slave Camp- I don’t even know what we were thinking dressing Ashoka like that- ”

“Wow, wow, WAIT-”

“We were trying to go undercover to rescue the Kiros colonists but obviously it blew up in our faces immediately. I was still healing from the, well, torture, when I had to go undercover as the assassin who killed myself in a Republic Jail to protect the Chancellor. I’d rather not talk about it but needless to say I was still physically and mentally not at my best when Maul returned from the dead-”

“I- Maul?”

“He wanted revenge on me for bisecting him on Naboo- turns out both sith and zabraks are very hard to kill, so that was a pleasant surprise. Didn’t really have time to meditate on that failure before we were training guerilla fighters on Onderara-”

“Wait, Naboo? You mean-'

“Yes. Anakin and Ashoka were still mad about faking my death during the ‘undercover thing’ so that made things- tense. Then Ashoka was sent to Illum for what was supposed to be a safe mission-”

“Oh gods-”

“She got kidnapped along with a number of initiates. Somehow befriended Hondo...so...that worked out fine. I guess. Then Maul and his brother. They. Well they got revenge. Satine died. They wanted to get back at me. I was still censured by the council for my actions from that incident at the time of the temple bombing-”

“You! Obi-Wan-”

“Which meant that when Ashoka was sentenced to death I could barely even speak a word in her defense, which is maybe just as well considering the blind faith we had in the senate-”

“WHAT!”

“Calm down, of course it wasn’t her, but after the sith hells she was put through she, understandably, had lost trust in the order and decided to strike out on her own. I was still trying to clean up that political mess, track her down, not to mention run multiple armies with even less help than before when I got the reports about the rogue clones. Obviously I should have done something with the information, but. Well, I didn’t.”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, rubbing his face with both hands. When he looked up to face the room, he was faced with various shades of shock and pity. There were several long moments of silence before Master Windu reluctantly spoke.

“... Let’s start with Krell.”

“Right. Right. Well, like I said the last year of the war was...hard. A number of people fell. Krell was the first, I think. His reasons were one of the less...hard to rationalize, even intellectually.”

“Pong Krell I suppose he always was-”

“Still I thought he had gotten over such things...”

“Oh, Kriff.”

“Relax Anakin, they haven’t taken off yet.”

“Oh, remember that one time when he was an initiate- that poor little Nautolan boy, what was his name?”

“Wait, taken off? Mace... who’s leading the my troops right now?”

“Master, before you freak out, they’re still on Coruscant.”

“Master Gallia, I don’t think that’s entirely fair- you can’t judge a Master by what they did as an initiate-”

“Ok, ok. I suppose take off must have been delayed due to my- well. When are they schedule to leave?”

“We can’t judge a Jedi by if they might fall, we could only judge them by their current actions.”

“Sundown? That- force. I had the start of a plan but- that’s enough time- but if you replace him...Sith Hells. I need things to proceed normally but kriff, there’s just not enough time. I- I don’t know if I can save everyone-”

“We’ll figure it out, Obi-Wan.”

“I- we’re coming back to this Windu- That was very well said Master Koon and I’d like you to hold onto that thought. We, we can’t judge our fellow Jedi for what they might do... good people can fall into darkness, when they’re pushed hard enough.”

“Then Krell...”

“Oh kark no, Krell’s irredeemable. Uh. That is to say. I’m reasonably certain he’s already been deliberately killing his men.

“Kriff.”

“Yes, quite.”

“...Can we go back to the brain parasite?”

- - - - -

“Alright, enough.”

“Agreed. We’re going in circles about the clone’s loyalty- once we finish this meeting we’ll start brain scans at once but for now- Obi-Wan the fallen. The purge.”

“I was on Utapau- I didn’t- I wasn’t there.”

“Master Kenobi, are you stalling?”

“Of course not, I- ok the next Jedi I remember falling was Depa Bilbaba.”

“. . .”

“That’s absurd.”

“Fall, anyone’s padawan can.

“Yes, but Depa-”

“It was a mission to Harun Kul- should I go into the details?”

“Damnit, Kenobi-

“She actually returned to the light, eventually.”

“Impossible!”

- - - - -

“Vos? I suppose he is a shadow...”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, boy-”

- - - - -

“I’m somewhat confused.”

“I wouldn’t say she fully joined the light but...she didn’t want to be dark anymore.”

“You don’t think it was just circumstances?”

“Well, two years after the fall of the republic I ran into her at a bar-”

“Of course you did”

“Oh shut up, like you wouldn’t drink after all that”

“Fair enough.”

“Anyway, she could have turned me in. The bounty on my head was obscenely high, but after all our history... she bought me a drink.”

“He’s definitely stalling.”

“Yes I know...”

- - - - -

“Luminara’s apprentice? She can barely stand violence, even in the hypothetical.”

“Yes...I think that was rather the point. She- she couldn’t accept the Jedi’s role in the war and she thought she didn’t have a way out...”

“Force have mercy on us all.”

- - - - -

“...Yoda...you have to understand, the darkness in the force was overwhelming at that point...you could hardly breath.”

“Master Kenobi, if you are trying to tell us that Yoda fell- I am- not going to have a mild reaction.”

“. . .”

“Obi-Wan?!”

“No, Yoda didn’t fall.”

“FUCK’S SAKE KENOBI DON’T DO THAT”

“Can fall, any of us.”

“DON’T YOU START”

“Deep breaths Master Koth, Deep Breaths.”

“I apologize for the confusion- I was just trying to explain that the last time I saw him, neither of us were in particularly sound state of minds-”

“KENOBI YOU ARE DOING THIS ON PURPOSE AND WE ALL KNOW IT JUST GET TO THE PART WHERE SKYWALKER FALLS INSTEAD OF DRAGGING IT OUT”

"KOTH!”

- - - - -

“...Things were fine. Things were- hopeful. Dooku was gone. We got word on Grevious’s location. I was assigned to go after him. Anakin wanted to come with me, to watch my back. He didn’t want to stay on Coruscant. The council- the council ordered him to spy on the Chancellor. He protested, was uncomfortable with the idea. But he agreed. We made some jokes as we were saying goodbyes. I left Coruscant. Got to Utatpau. Killed Grevious. Thought the war was over. The force got dark. I was shot off a cliff. All the Jedi were dying. My bond with Anakin got dark. My troops felt- like strangers. When I got back Yoda told me he- he was lost to the darkside. Was the new apprentice. Palpatine claimed the Jedi tried to assassinate him. I don’t- actually understood what happened, it was all just a few days... but I have to assume Palpatine...or the person who was controlling Palpatine! Please adi’ka, you know I-

“I know, Master. It’s...Kriff- I don’t- I’m sorry.”

“We shouldn’t have split up. I shouldn’t have left you.

“Obi-Wan...you can’t actually blame yourself for what I did, what I- haven’t done, technically"

“I...”

“Well. That explains-”

“Explains, what Master Gallia? Explains why we shouldn’t have allowed an elderly politician unrestrained access to a child?”

“Master! Don’t say it like that-”

“That explains your stalling Master Kenobi, be at peace. We’re not going to judge Knight Skywalker for unknown actions he has yet to take.”

“Mace! are you all right?”

“Headache. Talk about it later.”

“Tell us who may fall, you did. Judge them prematurely, we shall not. Watch them carefully, we will.”

“...With all do respect I’m not sure the council is capable of meaningfully distinguishing between the two.’

“Master Kenobi! Perhaps we should revisit the ‘attachment’ discussion we had previously agreed to forestall?”

“Oh that is such-”

“Anakin, please allow me. Mundi- shut up or let us read the note.”

“Master Koon!”

“For all the distress being vented, I feel there is a notable lack of compassion in this room and quite frankly I find it unacceptable.”

- - - - -

“So...you didn’t watch the security holograms?”

“Yoda said not to. I think that’s everything- we should start brain scans now.”

“Kenobi...”

“Yes?”

“When Yoda was fighting Palpatine...”

“Master Gallia- not right now”

“Yes, Master Windu.”

“. . .”

“Force Be With Us.”

“Indeed.”

“Quite.”

“Hm.”

“Council Members- if you’ll excuse me, I think I need to get back to the archives. I have a few things I’d like to dig into.”

“Of course. We trust your discretion.”

“Take care of yourself, Obi-Wan”

“You as well, Master Nu. I am forever in your debt for what you brought me.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“...Now what?”

“It’s going to break our ‘contract’ with the Kamonian’s but...we’re going to have to get a clone into the healing halls for a neurological examination.”

“I...might be able to help with that. Without going very far at all actually.”

“What do you mean by that, Master Eerin?”

“Sorry, terribly sorry, I just remembered I have to take care of something-”

“What?”

“This...is rather the part we were hoping for your assistance Vokara-”

“Stay, Master Che. Given everything- I think we’re past the point of needing plausible deniability.”

“You’re... most likely right. Apologies, force of habit.”

“Would either of you care to explain?”

“Well...technically the temple isn’t allowed to care for wounded clones. Doing so would violate their ‘warranty’. However...”

Part XIX

[sweetest-honeybee]

Down to Dust

Chapter 5

Fic Summary: Grian will have to keep the dragon egg secure for the Watchers. But, they’re not the only ones who want it. On a completely unrelated note, Mumbo will have to deal with a version of himself that's only amplified by his No Killing mindset.

Chapter Summary: After a semi-sleepless night with a mysterious and insult heavy voice, Mumbo admits to Grian that he wasn’t exactly honest when he said nothing happened to him before he gave back the egg.

TW: Sleep deprivation (just in case), insults/degradation, and similar things (it’s not a bad chapter but to those a wee bit sensitive)

Word Count: 1441

Notes: None I don’t think

Enjoy!

——————

Your idiocy astounds me.

Mumbo turned on his side and pulled his knees to his chest. It was still dusk, the middle of the night most likely. At least, it felt like he’d been up for hours. Just as sleep tugged at his eyelids in an almost successful attempt at letting him drift into a peaceful slumber, a voice, and a strange one at that, jabbed itself into the back of his mind. It did nothing more but insult him.

How’ve you become so gullible.

It wasn’t just any voice, he discovered. It was his voice. Of course, that’s what thoughts were most of the time, especially particularly degrading ones. However, it was different from his usual self deprecation. It was a deep, distorted echo of his voice, but he recognized it all too well.

And it wouldn’t stop talking.

He didn’t see you take it, you daft spoon.

It was likely just buzzing nerves after the egg’s outburst. His heart still raced at the very thought of it, and when the egg came to mind, so did the eerie voice. Weird things happened after he got his hands on the egg in the first place. Thus, the voice was a new addition alongside an aching in his limbs and an uncanny…guilt, for lack of a better word. Almost as if he’d done something wrong. Like a child that’s broken their parents’ favorite vase.

Must’ve been the leftover shame from Grian’s scolding.

He sat up, leaning his head back on the cold wall of the van and rubbing his eyes.

Grian’s lied to you like he’s done several times before. You’re a fool to trust him.

Mumbo didn’t feel like listening to the gravelly voice. He pulled his hand away from his face and held it in front of him. The fatigue left it blurred against the interior of the van. Only a soft golden light emitted from the windows behind it from the bases outside. It was a nice glow. A soft, serene warmth that he could almost…almost doze off to…

That egg holds a power unlike anything you’ve seen. A thousand times more than all the redstone you can imagine.

He lifted his head from its slow descent to his chest. Power? What was power to him if he was too tired to use it because the damned voice wouldn’t let him sleep. Half lidded eyes trailed towards the hand that was now in his lap.

Why don’t I get it for you if you’re so frightened of your little bird friend.

Mumbo was dozing again. In this state, he mumbled to himself.

“Don’t even know who you are,” was all that slurred from his lips. He decided to humor the voice anyway. “Just some thought.”

Who I am hardly concerns you.

“You keep insulting me. Why would I listen to-“

Mumbo, it snapped. If you wish to keep questioning me, it’s a futile attempt. My purpose here is to…make a deal of sorts.

“Deal,” the redstoner echoed with a short nod. “I must be very tired. I’m making deals with myself. Mhm, what kinda deal.”

I need a little bit more power. You retrieve the egg, then we can talk more.

“I can’t…get the egg. Grian has it.” He snorted. “If he hid it well this time. Didn’t you say you could just get it?”

If a vexed businessman with less common sense than a beached squid can find it, I’m sure you can. As for the offer, I unfortunately cannot get it alone.

“I’m not very helpful.” Mumbo yawned. “Just some stupid hermit.”

Believe me, I’ve heard, the voice sounded as if it were to roll its imaginary eyes. But, you’re the only stupid hermit that I have the capability to ask. I’m asking for your assistance. You want the egg, yes?

“I…do want the egg.” It just causes issues though, he added to himself. But, it could revolutionize everything if he could experiment with it. Test its limits.

Good, Mumbo, you can use it for all kinds of farms. You love farms. Farms, vaults, walking…bases. The voice cleared its throat. Many things, of course.

“Mhm. I do.”

Do we have a deal, then?

Mumbo nodded silently, more so to please the voice and get on with ending the conversation. But, he was just talking to himself, it wasn’t exactly easy to simply turn off your thoughts.

He pulled the blanket over himself. As long as he got some rest, things could go back to being as normal as Hermitcraft would let them be. It was already looking up for him. The voice quieted for longer and longer until he was successful at his final attempt to sleep.

The next morning, however, he was up much earlier than he certainly wanted to be, having been awake a mere four hours later to a knock at the van’s door.

He groaned, finally having just gotten comfortable in the small space. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed at his eyes with a wide yawn. He reached over to the other side of the van, opting to pull the door open from his bed. (Having spider-like limbs came in handy once in a while, he supposed.)

At the door was Grian who looked much more awake- no- alive than Mumbo certainly knew he did. The builder initially greeted him with a smile but before a word even partially escaped his mouth, he grimaced at Mumbo. Though, cringe seemed a better word.

“My god you look awful,” he hissed.

“Good morning to you too,” grumbled the redstoner as he pulled himself out of the van. He stretched, earning a chain of pops down his spine which ended in a satisfied sigh.

“You know, I’d say sorry but I’m not joking, you look like the walking dead. Did you sleep at all last night?”

“A bit,” came a simple answer.

“A bit,” Grian mocked. “When someone says they got a wink of sleep, it’s not a literal statement-”

“Do you need something?” Mumbo turned with a huff.

The avian cleared his throat. “Oh yeah, just wanted to check up on you.” The redstoner only raised a brow. “And you’re out of end crystals.”

Mumbo waved a dismissive hand, only to cover another yawn. “I’ll get those soon.” He began to walk to his potato farm when Grian stopped him with a tug of his arm.

“And I um-“ He sighed. “Sorry again about the whole egg thing. I hope that’s not the reason you look so tired.” Rather than ending in a snort or a giggle, he only looked up at the other with an almost regretful expression. A stark contrast to his mood seconds prior.

Ah, Mumbo guessed that he only came to talk more about the egg. The sentiment was nice though.

Too tired to try to lie, however, he shrugged. “Well, it kinda was but not much to do with you.”

Grian pulled away. “Kind of?”

“Yeah, can’t really explain it. Just nerves I guess.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to choose his next words semi-carefully. “But, I um- I wasn’t all that honest when I said nothing happened when the egg did what it did yesterday.”

This only earned a groan from his friend who accompanied the sound by pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jeez, Mumbo, of course you weren’t. What happened?”

“The egg…I don’t know. When that whole thing happened I was kind of…caught in it. I didn’t run fast enough to avoid this weird wave of energy. Weird stuff’s been happening since.”

“Oh,” was all that left Grian’s mouth.

“Oh?” Mumbo gestured for his friend to continue. “Am I- Is that a good thing? Bad thing?”

“Well did it feel bad?” The avian ran his fingers through his hair. His expression seemed a mix between confused and fearful. Still, wide eyes darted in every direction except the other man.

It only made Mumbo anxious. “What? Is something going to happen to me? Did I screw something up?”

“We’ll that’s the thing, I don’t know! The Watchers don’t know either and-“

The redstoner held up a hand to halt Grian’s answer (or lack of), now mirroring the wide eyed horror on his friend’s face. “Hold on The Watchers don’t know?! Grian you’re a Watcher!”

“Ah, not quite-“

“Not quite?!”

“Mumbo!” snapped the builder. He continued in a hushed voice. “Okay, no, we don’t know. Really, you won’t die but the likelihood is that you might’ve just started a potential dimensional war.”

“I did what.”

[ruubles]

A Bundle of Crimson Roses (Pt.1)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol , Cursing , Mentions of Violence , Suggestive Dialogue 

Word Count: 6,180

Chuuya’s eyes scanned across the scene unfolding inside the dim lit bar: Their vermilion blue watching as the patrons cheered and drank their sanity away with glasses of liquor. The source of their blissful unrest was a woman, her height far surpassing most in the bar as she held up a glass filled to the brim with what seemed to be vodka. Her smile seemed to radiate light even in the darkened room as she poured some of the liquid from her glass to theirs. A smile as pure as the chill that nipped its way through the skin, weaved in and out of view as she passed along the intoxicating drink to the numerous men gathering around her.

Though Chuuya had been to this bar many times, he’d never once seen a person who even reassembled the one passing along the beverage. Most of the time the bar was quiet and filled with a content array of individuals who sought only to drink away burdensome memories, but with every passing moment the number of rowdy men seemed to grow. The time of ease had passed long before he’d arrived, likely some time before midnight, and as the clock scrapped its way past three no one showed any signs of returning to the way it had usually been. He found it very annoying, his peaceful night disturbed by someone who he’d never seen step foot inside the bar he so often visited.

She was tall, towering over most men in the room by several inches, her height without heels would surely surpass six feet but with the added inches she was a head above all. The brilliant black hair bounced in curls as she swayed to the gentle music flowing through the unrelenting chatter of the men, even from afar he could see how well groomed the tassels of hair that fell across her face seemed to be. He could see why the men in the room had taken a liking to her, she was beyond beautiful in comparison to the woman who usually kept to themselves in the corner of the bar: Much like how he sat now, analyzing the woman who’d started this boisterous night so many hours ago. Even though he’d watched her take many a sip from the bottle in her hand, she showed no sign of intoxication, but with every added bit of alcohol entering her system the deep color of rust gleamed brighter in her eyes.

Looking down at his phone, the screen flickering to light in the palm of his hand, he took note of the passing of time. Nearly an hour had gone by since he’d made his way to the table nestled sweetly into the corner of the room, it was the best spot to sit for observation with a clean view of the entire floor. Several message notifications popped up but none important enough to tear him away from this night: Though he was not nearly as drunk as he’d desired to be, he still wished to eventually reach that point. The events leading up to this desire for a heedless night of drinking were long and tedious: Mori had pushed numerous assignments onto his hands, all of which were to be completed before the days end, thus making for a long strenuous day.

Sighing he clicked the button on the side of the device, its screen dying in the palms of his hand to leave only his own reflection staring back. Tiredness fluttered across his expression as he saw the way bags sat unmoving under his eyes and for a moment he contemplated leaving the bar. Had he gotten a second drink when he finished his first then this thought would be far gone, but with only the lightest bit of fuzz trickling through his mind it seemed to ring in the space between his ears. This night had meant to be calm and allow for a bit of relaxation but as the scandalous men continued to slur their speeches of undying love for the woman, it showed no signs of peace.

His head fell back, red hair falling softly atop the black leather of the bar seat as he watched the ceiling so high above head. Raising a hand he blocked the brightest of lights and focused on the ones that had burned out quite a long time ago: They had worked so hard to brighten such a dim shop and yet they were left for dead. It crossed his mind that maybe this would be himself. Chuuya had dedicated his life to the Port Mafia and continued to work everyday under Mori’s substantial leadership, but when the day was done all he could do was bury his head in a bottle of sweet, crimson wine. If he were to die now then all the work he’d put in would be outshined by those who had worked far less but held more natural talent than he: Though he held no plans to die in the near future.

The sounds of music drifted through his mind, gentle notes of familiar jazz bringing back memories of a life before this: One with friends that he’d thought cared dearly for him. Closing his eyes he took in the lingering smell of alcohol floating through the unending stretch of the bar: The spirituous smell of a strong vodka that likely belonged to the woman he’d been watching for such a long period of time. She’d captivated his gaze by so carelessly being able to move through a crowd as large as the one she’d pulled together with her bewitching beauty. Though the people who’d been enchanted by her seemed to have quieted in the short time he’d been resting his eyes.

Lost in a dark sea of thoughts, Chuuya had been too enamored with his own mind to realize the approach of another person. Their appearance at his table only came to light when, with one swift motion, tore his hat from his head. Shooting up his blue eyes held a threatening glare towards the woman who’d stolen his tattered old hat, her (E/C) eyes meeting his in an almost instant connection of infatuation. Sitting atop her nape of silken (H/C) hair was the article of clothing in which she’d chosen to steal from him. 

“If you keep scowling like that then your face might get stuck that way.” She let out a gentle laugh, pulling the hat from her head before using a hand to fix several strands of her untamed locks. Without a second of hesitation she sat herself down across from him, (E/C) eyes lit by the flickering candle in the center of their now shared table. His hat had found its way back atop her head and forced a shadow to cascade down upon her sharp features.

“Who the hell are you.” Chuuya’s voice rose above the gentle jazz still buzzing through the background, deep and clear as he calmly demanded an answer from the woman. His blue eyes that once sparkled with the life of the ocean were now as cold as ice, watching her every movement in hopes of finding the right moment to snatch his hat back. Though the task was simple, he’d much prefer to keep the conversation somewhat civil and not start a fight. 

“Just a lonely bar frequenter looking for someone to exchange words with.” Once again she let out a quiet chuckle, hands twirling together as she played with a diamond ring resting upon her finger. Since making her unwarranted appearance she’d been messing with her hands, but it wasn’t until now that he noticed the jewelry twinkling in the candle. “Though I guess I must come off as something far more rude after stealing your hat. My apologies.”

With one swift movement she pulled the hat off her head, holding the rounded black brims in her hand as she ran slender fingers across the snuffed edges. Not many people had enough confidence to steal from another person, especially not from a mafia executive, but she hadn’t hesitated for a single second. Perhaps it could be considered rude or even foolish to approach another person in this way but more than anything it was intriguing. A smile of true temperament spread slowly across her lips, tugging at the corners to form a look of a dolorous sight. Reaching out she offered back his most precious belonging, hand extended in a sign of peace when she’d realized just how truly strange her actions had been.

Quickly Chuuya snatched his hat back, rubbing away flecks of dirt before returning it to its usual spot atop his fiery red hair. The woman watched intently as if to not spark any incentive of harm and the short man seemed to understand as he leaned back, any anger slowly dripping away from his expression as he took a final sip from his now empty glass of fine wine. Its fruity flavor lingered on his lips; Soft and sweet as if filled with memories of delicate feet dancing through vineyards in preparations of a coming harvest. Perhaps it smelled of the same scent that it tasted, but the strong scent of vodka seemed to drip from the woman before him and made it near impossible to distinguish the smell of his wine.

Though it was clear that she had been drinking before finding her way to him, she showed no signs of insobriety. Behind her the crowd of men had begun to fade, one by one realizing the woman who’d been leading the charge of celebration was nowhere to be found. Without their loud, slurred speech the music began to drift through the air and back into his ears. The jazz had stopped and now a classic rock rumbled its way through his mind. 

“What makes you think I’ll accept your apology?” He was stern and unwavering as he threatened to form a new feud with her. She seemed so calm even as he laid the threat out for all eyes to see: So much so that she was confident enough for her gaze to finally leave him. With that crestfallen smile falling to her hands she finally stopped the irksome fidgeting of her ring. “This hat is quite important to me and I don’t take kindly to people touching it. Especially not a strange woman who I’ve never seen before.”

“You make a fair point but I have a feeling you don’t really want to be alone during a long night of drinking. What would it hurt if you talked with that strange woman until she became such a nuisance that you killed her?” The comment had come from a strange place, changing the demeanor of the entire conversation with such simple words. For a moment Chuuya’s mind turned towards his former partner: Osamu Dazai, a man obsessed with suicide that it entwined itself into his everyday life. He couldn’t deny the similarities in the way they spoke: Sharp witted with a hint of tease.

“Let’s say I don’t strangle you for touching my hat.” He leaned forward, eyeing her with suspicious vermillion eyes until she finally met his gaze. “What gives you the idea I’d want to spend my peaceful night drinking with another person when I could so easily do it by my lonesome.”

“Is that really what you want? Of course I’d understand, wallowing in your own self pity always makes for a great evening but wouldn’t it be nice to share a glass of wine with a beautiful and mysterious woman.” She reached for his glass and pulled it towards her. Much like she had with her hat, she ran a slender finger across its rim and Chuuya only continued to watch her small movements. A chip on the glass caught her skin and gently cut at her delicate (S/C) finger; A droplet of blood finding its way to the bottom of the glass. 

He took note of how she hadn’t flinched, instead watching as she flipped the cup upside down, her drop of blood running down along the side of his glass. “If you wish to drink alone then by all means tell me to go, but I’d truly enjoy it if you’d accompany me to the bar.”

Chuuya watched as she stood up, leaving his glass flipped on the table with her blood staining the clear glass a bright crimson. If it hadn’t been for another droplet of blood rolling from her fingertip and onto the black carpet, he likely could have viewed her blood as the wine that had once filled his cup. She was a moderate height in comparison to the behemoth of a woman who’d been passing out the vodka minutes ago: (H/L) (H/C) hair falling in tassels atop her head and swaying with the few steps she’d taken. It was obvious she wasn’t exactly dressed for the bar, unlike most of the women she wore a pair of patchy black flats and a white pantsuit that was more suited for a day in an office building than a night in a bar.

“Out of pure curiosity, what’s your name?” Chuuya hadn’t expected her to glance back at him. Her brilliant (E/C) dancing in the darkness as she dared to search for something more than the ruthless mafia executive. Perhaps she was wishing for someone like her: Lonesome and willing to take a gamble for a night of forgotten mistakes. Yet he couldn’t allow her to see that part of him.

“(L/N) (Y/N). Though (Y/N) is preferred.” She turned away once again, not wanting to impose herself more on his life than she already had. It was a sweet gesture to not force any questions onto what was already a tipsy man. Chuuya watched her make her way through the floor, dodging the free flying hands of the people still moving about. Eventually she had safely found a spot at the bar with no one sitting even remotely close to her.

Chuuya didn’t care much for small talk, especially when it included a person who’d had the credence to think that he was purely drinking to forget his troublesome day: Though it was partially the reason, he also quite enjoyed the taste of a nice fruity wine. A buzz tore him from his ire thoughts, his phone calling him with the notification of a message bringing the screen to life. Once again he pulled the object from his pocket and scanned over the brief words, ‘Meeting at three tomorrow. Mori wants everyone on time and please don’t show up hungover, it’s an important day.’.

His admiration for Kouyou was not something he hid and he would do whatever she wished of him, but for some reason the message had just irked something inside him. Today, well yesterday, had been yet another important day filled to the brim with banal tasks forced onto him by Mori. Had it been an order and not just a mere request from the older woman then he would’ve obliged without hesitation, but the smell of sweet alcohol called him from afar and pulled his eyes back to the bar. Still she sat alone, glass of wine in hand as another untouched glass sat to the seat to her right.

It was clearly set there for him but he could see several men throughout the bar eyeing the prize as if it were theirs to claim. There was no denying she was a beautiful woman and it was likely the men desired her more than the wine beside her; They were dogs begging for a piece of meat but he was more so a lynx relishing in the blood of its fallen prey. Returning his phone to his pocket, Chuuya left his table and the upside down glass behind to seek after the woman who’d offered a hand of help to those who desired to be drunk on this lengthy night. Any person who attempted to even near her was quickly warned away by his minacous glares.

“I didn’t think you’d actually follow me.” She attempted to hide her smirk by taking a long sip of her wine but the pride was riddling her expression. Chuuya rolled his eyes and picked up the glass, swirling its contents round in round as if the churning water held all the answers he ever wished for.

“The only reason I’m here is for the wine, nothing more.” He put the glass to his lips and took a long sip, the insipid wine running down his throat and bringing a sour look to his face. Rolling his eyes he placed the glass back down and shoved it further away from him. The girl watched him as he did so, though it was clear she had no desire to continue her own glass, took another sip. “That tastes like shit.”

“It’s a clearance bottle from the store down the street. Personally I’d prefer something a bit more… tasteful” Chuuya sat and watched as the woman jumped over the bar, her hand holding her weight as she swung herself across. It was quick and fluid motion that he hadn’t  entirely expected from someone like her: She didn’t seem weak but doing something like that was difficult for most normal people. 

The barkeep rolled his eyes but still gave her a gentle pat on the head, softly rustling her locks of hair before she tore herself from his hand. “When you disappeared I thought surely you’d have taken one of those men home.”

“As if I’d ever let those buffoons into my pants, I may be a slut but not even I’d go that low.” She retorted with an added bit of arrogance before ducking down below the counter to someplace Chuuya couldn’t see. “Is the password still the same Isaac?”

“Only your first night back and you’re already opening up one of your special finds, if this is what I”m to expect while you’re in town then I might need to stock up.” The bartender squatted down behind the counter and several quiet beeps filled the air before he came back up. Skepticism ran through Chuuya’s mind but before it could cause him to make any rash decisions, his eyes met the bartenders: Tall and lean, blue eyes brilliant as they burned in the dim light, and his long black hair pulled back to show his sharp features. He seemed to always be working behind the counter, serving drink after drink no matter what time of day it was, but Chuuya wouldn’t question it as long as he was served.

As if sensing the unease that laced itself in Chuuya’s brows, the bartender, who’s name he now knew to be Isaac, offered a small bow of his head for respect. It was commonplace for members of the mafia to come to the small bar tucked safely inside an alley and thus the bartender had become somewhat of an honorary member of the mafia. Personally Chuuya had never spoken to him but he did know that Kouyou loved his mijito’s. If she trusted this establishment enough to come here biweekly for such a simple drink then he should have no anxieties himself: Plus if things were to end in a fight he was sure that he could handle his own.

After what seemed an eternity the woman finally arose from the underside of the bar with two fresh glasses in her hand and a bottle of wine in the other. She spun the bottle by its narrowed top and Chuuya could only catch a glimpse of its moving label. It came to a slow stop and his eyes lit up, surprised by the bottle clutched in her deft hands. “A 1985 Leroy Ruchottes, expensive but fitting for a dreary night like this one.”

“Sharing your 1985 with someone you don’t even know.” Isaac huffed before he grabbed the two unfinished drinks, their bland contents going to waste as he poured them down a sink.  “You must have gone mental from staying in that barren iceland for so long.”

The woman, (Y/N), rolled her rousing (E/C) eyes and down the supplies in her hands. “Isn’t it against the policy for customers to be behind the bar, Mr.Newton? I wonder what would happen if the owner were to find out that their endearing manager had broken such a simple rule.”

“If anyone were to get into trouble it’d be you.” He huffed in annoyance before turning and making his way across the bar to serve another patron. This left (Y/N) and Chuuya alone, both a bit tipsy from their nights of drinking, but still comprehensive enough to understand how little they know of one another. They were worlds apart but somehow they’d found themselves across from one another: Not knowing why the other had found their way into the bar on this fateful night.

Chuuya watched as she poured the fine wine into a fresh glass for him. Her movements were soft enough to avoid any splashing of the wine, it was as though she’d been trained to do that very thing in an elegant manner. “If I’m splitting a two-thousand dollar wine with you, I’d like to ask a question.”

He raised an eyebrow at her words, not prepared for such a statement but fully intending on seeing where it led. “Continue.”

“What brought you to the bar tonight?”

The question was so simple yet so forlorn with his tale of a despondent day. He didn’t know what exactly to tell the women who brimmed with curiosity at his untold daily life. Once again he was reminded they were strangers, nothing more than passerby in the stream of life, she’d likely never see him again after this night so there was no point in sharing detail. Plus, of course, there were the dangers of sharing any detail of what work he did within the mafia.

“Just needed to cool down.” He picked the glass and spun the liquid round in circles, watching as the crimson tinted the glass. Skepticism laced through his vision in fear of tasting yet another crappy wine from some dollar store. “Though it didn’t go as planned with that outrageous entourage for that tall ass woman.”

(Y/N) laughed, a quiet sound resonating through her throat and filling the air between them. It was filled with the softness of honey and dripping with the warmth of a bittersweet dark chocolate: Perfect and prim. “She has that effect on people.”

“You know her?” Her statement had caught him by surprise. When his eyes had scanned across the room he’d taken note of all those throughout the building but never once had he seen the woman across the counter, so why had she appeared as soon as her friend had disappeared.

“You could say that.” Once again she gave a mysterious answer that hid any truth of what her business inside this bar was. She was generous with her questions to him, wanting to know more of who he was by offering a wine, yet she gave no information of who she was. Outside this bar he had no clue who she was. “So you needed to cool down? What could cause a man such as yourself so much stress that you want nothing more than to get drunk with a beautiful woman at your side.”

“Work is pretty shitty when no one seems to do anything correctly.” Chuuya took a sip of the wine she’d poured for him. It was perfectly chilled as it rolled through his lips and down his throat, the fruity flavor danced across his tongue. He was familiar with fine wines and this truly was one. “How about yourself? At this point you seem to know more about me than I do about you and I don’t think that’s entirely fair.”

“I guess I’m in a similar boat with the work bit. Four years away from Yokohama and my boss wanted me to drop everything to return here.” She took another sip of the wine before putting it down on the counter. Her (E/C) eyes seemed to soften and fill with a tiredness that matched her gruesome words from earlier this night. “Never thought I’d be back here after what happened.”

The last bit was not meant for his ears and he knew that well enough from the exhaustion bushed inside her tone, but he couldn’t just leave it at that. Curiosity brimmed in his head and with the haze of alcohol settling in his mind he couldn’t bear to not ask any questions. “What happened?”

She didn’t respond, eyes glazing in memories that flowed through her thoughts like water. A ring blasted above the music in the room and that was what finally tore her from her thoughts. (Y/N) was quick to answer her phone, pulling it from her white pocket and pressing it to her ear. “Yes sir, I’ll be there within the hour… No there isn’t a need for a car… Thank you, sir.”

“Your boss?” Chuuya took a large sip of the wine as he watched her pocket her phone and gulp the final ounces of her drink. “I guess this is where we part ways.”

“It would seem that way. Feel free to finish the bottle and if Isaac tries to charge you then just remind him that it was a personal bottle.” (Y/N) pushed the bottle further towards him and Chuuya was happy to take it off her hands and pull it beside his glass. A small smile rested on her lips from the sight of her precious wine not being wasted. She gave a small whistle then waved at the bartender, Isaac returning the gesture with a small flick of his hand. “It was nice talking with you…”

Her voice trailed off as she searched for a name she hadn’t been given. “Chuuya Nakahara.”

“Chuuya.” She tested the name on her tongue, its syllables weighed a hefty amount as they floated through the air. With that final call to him she turned and made her way to the door and left him alone sitting on a stool. He could’ve let her leave but it felt wrong to let this end on such a rancorous note.

“You ever steal my hat again I swear I’ll kill you!”

“Promise?”

~ x ~

The table was filled with a quiet chatter as everyone awaited the arrival of Ougai Mori who seemed to be running late this early morning. A meeting this large was uncommon to say the least, Chuuya couldn’t remember the last time that many people had been seated around this large table. Kouyou and he sat at the forefront on either side of where Mori should have been sitting, lining the sides were numerous ranked members within the mafia. What had originally meant to be a meeting among only him, Mori and Kouyou had somehow turned into this situation without his knowing.

Chuuya leaned back in his seat, resting his hat over his face to block the dim light fluttering throughout the room, but yet it did nothing to soothe the knot in his head. After finishing the bottle of wine given to him by the mysterious woman he’d blacked out and the hangover became inevitable. Kouyou had been sure to taunt him from the moment he’d slouched in the chair across from her, but she was kind enough to provide him with a glass of water.

“I hear you had a drinking partner last night, are the rumors true?” Her voice was chilled with the usual icy tone but he knew she meant no harm in her words. It was a procedure for them to keep up a distant attitude when people were around: Being executives had few flaws and having to be uptight during work hours was one of them.

“Partner is a strong word. She disappeared after her first drink and left me alone to finish a bottle.” Chuuya didn’t bother to move his hat off his head, using it as a cover to the prodding light. The whole room was filled with harsh utterance that hurt his all too sensitive hungover self. “Though I must admit the wine tasted great.”

There was no chance for Kouyou to respond as the doors to the room burst open, wide and unexpected to allow a bright light to flood the dim room. Everyone in the table straightened as their quiet chatters fell to a silent void. Chuuya pushed his hat back and leaned forward, hunched in hopes to not lose the little bites of food he’d taken before leaving his apartment this morning. Mori walked with Elise close on his heels, he stayed silent as the short blonde girl tugged harshly at his sleeve. Her pleas to leave the meeting were a screech in Chuuya’s sore head but he had no ability to fight back. 

“Good morning.” His words held a bit of joy laced underneath their serious air. “I’d like to thank you all for finding the time to attend this meeting.”

“Did we have a choice whether to attend?” Kouyou covered her mouth with a fan, teasing Mori’s kindness with the jab at his gracious thanks to the people sitting solemnly around the table.

“You always have a choice, but there are no promises saying you wouldn’t have been harmed if you chose not to attend.” It took a minute for him to walk the length of the table but finally his intransigent steps came to a halt and he sat at the head of the table. Like usual his hands adorned deep white gloves, but while they had usually been hidden beneath the table messing with one of his scalpels, they sat atop the gleaming wood as his fingers fidgeted with one another. The small motion tore at most people throughout the table as they realized just how serious this situation must be. “Before we start I’d like to make a few things clear. First off: The woman you are about to meet is dangerous and I am not able to guarantee absolute safety for any of you.”

Curiosity spiked within the room, everyone listening intently as for the first time in years Mori addressed all his high ranking agents in one message. The warning of an incoming dangerous person was intriguing and though a bit worrying they could not fight against his order. “Secondly: Information shared within this room is to remain within this room, if it discovers you leaked any bit of intelligence you will be executed.”

That much was obvious to even those who didn’t regularly attend meetings like this: Information within the Port Mafia was to be kept within no matter the cost. Dropping any bit of intel would result in a severe punishment if not your death. “My final word of warning is only to be heeded for Chuuya. Do not try and ask to change this situation, my word is final.”

“What are you saying boss? It seems like you‘re already expecting me to hate what’s about to happen.”

His laugh was chilling, cold and desolate in the curiosity implicit room. The smile that followed was fanatical as Mori faced down his executive. Though Chuuya would follow Mori to death and further he couldn’t help but question what decision he’d made this time. Kouyou also seemed to be wary of what their leader had gotten them into. Mori was a well thought man but from what he’d said in these few minutes it seemed as though he’d lost his intelligence to a crazed insanity. If not even he could guarantee the safety of those in this room then whoever this woman was had to be someone of high strength.

“I’ll keep this short: As of late, there’s been a drug circulating throughout the underground. One that has the capability of permanently robbing a person of their ability. I’ve brought in an old agent who I’m certain can help us uncover who’s behind this creation of this horrid drug.” Mori’s hands clasped together and sent a sharp clasp flooding through the air, it scraped through every crevice in the room and dared anyone to try and ask a question. He was yet to finish speaking but many people in the room had become restless upon hearing what he’d said so far. “She will be your new partner for the time.”

“With all due respect, I don’t need a partner; I’m perfectly capable of handling this on my own.” Chuuya’s words were held with an air of tempted duplicity: After what had happened with Dazai he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to be chained to yet another person as a partner.

“You say as much but I’m afraid even your ability isn’t a match for the challenges we are about to face. The agent I’ve called back used to be an executive much like you, ambitious and astute without a will to allow her to back down.” Mori stood from his seat and Elise was quick to push it in, the young blonde seeming to straighten her attitude as Mori’s air changed in a matter of moments. This was serious. “It would do you well to remember that she is of equal rank with both you and Kouyou. She is far stronger than she seems and I assure you that this partnership you will endure will be prosperous.”

His steps held an air of solitude, one after another as he made his way down the opposite side of the table to the large door at the front of the room. Around the table everyone watched his movements, people craned their heads in hopes of meeting his twisted stares to understand what exactly he was speaking of. As of now only two people were meant to talk: Mori and Chuuya. Kouyou understood this and kept her questions closed within herself.

“You said she used to be an executive, what happened? Am I working with someone who’s going to stab me in the back the moment she sees a better opportunity?” If Chuuya had to choose a single standard for a partner it would be that of trustworthiness. He was curious if this woman could live up to what should be such a simple standard, but most seemed to find it difficult to comprehend. 

“She received a promotion of sorts.”

“As for the betrayal bit, I could have easily done so last night. Yet I chose to kindly share some of my time with you.” A voice rang through the room, it was softer than it had been hours before. Chuuya was shocked when the woman who’d offered him a bottle of wine stepped through the door of the meeting room: Her white pantsuit had been traded for a black jumpsuit that covered every inch of her form, neck to feet, not leaving any crevice of skin to be seen. She was more rigid than she’d been, her shoulders tense as if relaying a sense of power, but her (E/C) eyed stare was far more gentle. “Did you enjoy your wine, Chuuya?”

“You- you?!” His hands harshly met the long table as he shot from his chair, utter disbelief coursing throughout his body as he watched her stand there. She seemed innocent, holding papers against her chest as Mori placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her to the open seat at the opposite end of the table. “What the hell! You didn’t think to tell me you were a part of the mafia.”

“As of last night I had no information on you or your relations within the mafia.” Mori leaned and whispered several words into her ear, soft spoken so as to not allow anyone else to hear. She responded with a simple nod and a smile twisted its way onto his boss's lips. “When Ogai requested me to return here I was told of our partnership. I’m happy to be working with you, Chuuya Nakahara. May our relations be affluent for both parties.”

This was a different woman than who he’d spoken with at the bar during the evening: She was sharp and witted without a wavering will, just by her earlier stance you could see that she knew she was well-acquitted with strength. It was as though the fun loving lady who’d stolen his hat had merely been a jest. Mori returned to her side and set a plate before her, beside the papers she'd brought with her, its content was a simple slice of cake. Her eyes which held a great deal of softness widened and a smile replaced the confident, thin-lipped look she had.

“You spoil me Ogai! A chocolate cake from Ms.Young’s bakery, how deliciously expensive a treat.” She took a bite of it, eyes twinkling with satisfaction as the treat nearly melted upon contact with her tongue. “Now that I’ve exchanged my pleasantries, I believe it’s time for us to get to business.”

[jincherie]

florescence | v

❀ — pairing: taehyung x reader x seokjin ❀ — genre: hybrid au, hybrid tae, hybrid jin, poly au, fluff, smut (future), angst ❀ — words: 6.8k+ ❀ — rating: sfw ❀ — warnings: a pinch of angst, some hurt n comfort, and a teensy bit of risque content towards the end.... yay for scenting!! ❀ — notes: There was a fair bit that I changed in this one so part way through i ran into a bit of a block-- gradually, I pushed through!!! here is the next part uwu, I dont have anything written after this so the next update may take a while. (also, for anyone still having trouble with this, I did add a read more)

Okay, so maybe you’re lonely, and maybe there is something missing in your life, a void that you maybe want to fill with a companion that may or may not be of human origin… You’re perfectly content not doing anything about it though, until your best friend calls you in desperate need for your help and you suddenly end up coming home with not one, but two hybrids that may or may not have been on the way to the chopping block had you not taken them in. They’re more than a little rough around the edges, and the situation is less than ideal but… maybe the best things don’t always come in perfect, shiny packages. Maybe they just need a little time to bloom.

— posted; 11.03.2020 // masterlist || prev. | next.

When you wake up, you feel so well-rested that you almost completely forget what troubled your heart the night prior. Almost. As soon as you sit up and your gaze flits over the window, weather uncharacteristically gloomy, you recall what has been troubling you the past week and a bit and all of a sudden you can physically feel your mood drop. Right.

Well— you attempt to stop the spiral before it can really begin— today is your chance to make things right. You have the whole day off! That, for one thing, is sure to cheer the boys up a little bit. If they’re still not in the best of spirits, like you feel they might be, then you have the whole day to come up with a plan.

Yawning and scratching your head, allowing yourself a moment of indulgence before you get up to dive into the day headfirst, you attempt to bolster your confidence at least a little. With a little perseverance, you can do this!

You can do it! x   x   x

You can’t do it.

You thought that you’d be able to keep a cheery mood going, that you’d be able to cling to some optimism, but as it turns out you were somewhat wrong and this situation as it is now at around midday has your glass looking half-empty.

You’d gone about your normal routine after getting up; showering and then cooking and cleaning a little. To your surprise, the boys hadn’t come out to beg and plead with you at all. Even as their behaviour in the evenings changed during the past week and a bit, their behaviour in the mornings never did. So, understandably, this new development filled you with an icky feeling that stuck to the sides of your stomach like tar. You need to figure out what you’re doing that’s actually upsetting them, but attempting to pull the answer out of them is like pulling teeth. And with nothing but the barest hints to go off, you don’t really know where to even begin your online search, either.

So, halfway through the day and already almost at your wits end, you suppose the only way to go now is trial and error.

Off the top of your head, there are only a few things you can think of that might be bothering them.  

First, there are the insecurities they have that you’re already aware about. You don’t think this is actually the only thing bothering them, but you have a gut feeling that it has something to do with it. Each day they spent in the labs after their creation, under the technical label of ‘failure’, clearly took its toll on them. They only had each other there, and you know that the men you met while picking them up would have done their best to take care of them but as employees in that institution there is a line that they couldn’t ever cross to really give them the comfort they needed. So you know that Seokjin and Taehyung both were deemed ‘failures’ within their batches, exceptions, and you know that this knowledge has brought forth entire complexes around inferiority and worth within them.

Knowing this, it has you wondering if those complexes are leading the two of them to feel as though they’re being slowly pushed aside, or as though they have become a second thought to you. They most definitely haven’t, but with their background you wouldn’t be too surprised if that is a conclusion they have come to. You really want them to know and understand that they are a part of your home now, but you also know it’s going to be hard to get them to that point.

Regardless, it’s difficult to know what is actually wrong with them without being able to talk to them, and as the morning goes on they prove persistent in their efforts to ignore and avoid you. It irks you and upsets you at the same time, but still you do your best to be understanding. They’re not going to come out and have breakfast for as long as you’re in the kitchen, so you make the slightly wounding decision to return to your room for a while so they have a chance to at least eat. Taking care of them from the shadows it is—you leave some eggs and toast on plates for them before you retreat further into the house in the direction of your room.

You really wish that for situations like this there was someone you could just ask who would have all the answers you want and more—not many of your friends know that you even have hybrids, though, and Seulgi is probably at work still. Plus, she’d probably just tell you to look it up yourse— oh!!

You have the internet!

Honestly you’re not surprised it’s taken you this long to realise you could just look it up instead of lamenting and stewing in your own confusion and worry. Flopped across you bed, you pull your phone up and get to work. ‘hybrids upset with me’ is the first thing you intuitively type, and it brings forth an array of results. As one might expect, about 30% of them are actually relevant to what you want. You open a promising-looking one and begin to read.

“When instilling absolute obedience in wayward hybrids, it is expected that at first there will be a little backlash and they may react in an upset manner. A firm hand and unrelenting—”

Well, you click out of that one faster than you can blink. A closer look at the site name, perfectingyourpet.com, makes you realise you really should have inspected it a little bit more finely before opening it earlier.

Back on the search results page, you skim over the rest of them with a more scrutinising eye. It takes you a while before you actually open one that isn’t a run-around or an instant dead end.

‘Just like their animal counterparts, hybrids can become stressed and unhappy from a number of things that we often don’t think of from a human standpoint. Certain foods, environments, smells—the littlest thing can sometimes impact your hybrid companion’s happiness.’

Now that you’re reading this and really thinking about it, that makes a lot of sense. You aren’t sure how you haven’t been coming to these conclusions much earlier, and feel a little stupid and ashamed.

Chastised, you read a little further, soaking up as much information as you can, leaving the things you think aren’t very applicable for your situation. Towards the end, you admittedly skim it a bit, but to be fair that is just because you’re antsy to get started on fixing whatever has fallen through between you and the boys.

Some of the causes of stress this site tells you about are things you don’t think you have to worry about – yelling, fighting, having lots of guests come through and an always busy house. You definitely don’t have to worry about those. But then, when you read through the others, nothing is really clicking into place like this, this is it. You aren’t sure as to the cause still but at least you have something to go off now, even if it will be a process of elimination and learning by error.

One of the first things the site says, in addition to those you didn’t really think were relevant, is that it could be something in the diet, the environment, or a smell—or any change really. Branching off of that thought has you realising that it’s possible your big faux pas here is that you introduced such a big change – you going to work for a few hours a day – so suddenly and abruptly. From what you’re reading, it’s more than likely unsettled them and made them feel a bit insecure in their positions once more.

So, as your first attempt to make things right, you’re going to do your best to include them all over again. With a sigh you rise from your bed and attempt to steel yourself before making your way back into the kitchen, your fingers crossed that they have at least come out to eat something.

You’re quiet in your movements, and you think that is largely what allows you to catch the two elusive hybrids in the kitchen as they chow through the breakfast you left for them. It makes you happy to see they’re still eating what you make, but still sad to know they refuse to do it in your presence.

“Good morning,” you greet softly, leaning against the doorframe.

You hadn’t meant to startle them, but that’s what you end up doing. Seokjin, who had been looking through the fridge (most likely in search of some juice), jumps in fright, one yelp escaping before he bumps his head on a shelf and another, louder one follows it. Taehyung doesn’t make any noise, but you see him jump in his spot by the bench, whipping around to face you with wide eyes and a mouth full of eggs.

It’s an odd mix of emotions that cross their faces, prefaced by a wash of guilt and then a myriad of others you don’t manage to catch in time. They’re still upset, but clearly seeing you has weakened their defences slightly. You quickly take advantage of it.

“I’m glad you’re up and about,” you say, shooting them both a smile and doing your best to make sure none of the hurt seeps through. “I was thinking we could all do something together today!”

Surprise is what greets you as they stare at you, then at each other. Seokjin voices their thoughts, “You don’t have work today?”

From just behind him, you can catch his tail beginning to sway in cautious anticipation. His ears are slightly lowered, as are Taehyung’s, but they perk up when you answer them with a shake of your head.

“I don’t,” you affirm, feeling slightly bolstered by their response. “So I was thinking we could do something… maybe go out to the park? Or a café? Or—”

Their ears flatten and its obvious they’re not too into that idea, surprisingly. You really thought that would be something they’d love! You quickly backtrack. “Or, we could just cuddle on the couch and watch Netflix…? Seokjin, that zombie show you like had another season added.”

At that, they seem much more enthusiastic. Seokjin’s tail begins to wag a little more heartily, if still somewhat tentative.

“Already?” he asks, eyes wide. “Oh that’s good, they left it on a cliffhanger last season.”

The few moments after he finishes speaking are almost awkward, but you step in before they can get to that point.

“Perfect, did you want to watch that now?” You pose the question, before recalling that you’d caught them in the middle of stuffing their faces. “I mean, after you’re done eating of course.”

“Yes!” Seokjin nearly yaps in his excitement, the mood of the two hybrids seeming to have taken a complete 180 now that they know they have your time all to themselves today. You wonder if the ‘cuddling’ aspect had much to do with it, since you’d noticed their eyes light up when you’d mentioned it earlier.

You turn your gaze to the side, and when you see Taehyung looking just as excited, you offer them a bright smile. “Great, well you guys finish up and I’ll wait in the living room. I’ll get it all set up.”

Both of their tails are wagging as you turn and make your way to the room in question, and you feel significantly lighter than you have all week. You just need to bond with them a little more, assure them of their place with you and that you care for them. You were too dramatic earlier, you can do this!

Going around the living room, you end up setting up the couch like a makeshift nest, their comfort the main thing on your mind. Netflix is on and loaded, and you tidy things just a bit in the extra time you have before you hear the two hybrids approaching the room.

They’re excited, you can tell from the second you catch sight of them. Taehyung especially looks like he’s trying not to smile too big, but his tail is whirring a mile a minute behind him.

Seokjin picks up the remote, before turning to you. “You sit down first.”

Apparently it slipped out before he’d realised, because in the next second his face flushes and he hurries to correct himself at how demanding he feared he sounded. “I mean, uh… please. So we can, um….”

He doesn’t have to finish for you to know what he wants. More often than not, the two of them wait until you seat yourself so that they then can flop down and curl around you. Smiling at Seokjin to let him know it’s okay, you sit in the middle of the couch and wait. Well, you don’t even have to wait—as soon as your ass touches the seat the two hybrids dive for a spot on either side of you, nestling against you, the blankets, and the couch.

Their actions stir up butterflies in your stomach and you have to marvel at yourself—wow, you’ve really gotten quite touch starved because of this whole ordeal, haven’t you? That’s kind of embarrassing…

Seokjin swings his legs over your lap and Taehyung presses his body to your side, head on your shoulder. You can feel his large hands fisting the material of your shirt needily, oblivious to the way he brushes the underside of your breast with the action. You ignore the skipped heartbeat that results and pretend it didn’t even happen. That’s a dangerous rabbit hole to go down if you follow that thought.

“What are we watching?” you ask, reaching a hand up to play with the curls at the back of Taehyung’s neck. His grip on your shirt tightens and he presses closer before the tension leaves his body completely, and he lets out the faintest noise in satisfaction. You’d do the same to Seokjin but his higher level functioning ceases when you play with his hair and you kind of want a response.

“This?” he proposes, eyes on the screen. You follow his gaze and watch the preview that’s played for you. “I added it to the list but haven’t, um… haven’t gotten to watch it yet.”

“If it’s what you wanna watch, put it on,” you reassure him, holding your hand out for the remote. He sees your hand and his cheeks warm—you wonder why before the answer follows, and he places his hand in yours, threading your fingers together.

You don’t even have the heart to tell him that you were asking for the remote, especially now that you feel your own face burning. God, what are these two doing to your heart today?!

What Seokjin chose seems to be some new anime with alternate styling to what you’re used to seeing, the mode of animation different but quite cool. Unfortunately, you only get to watch about a minute of it before something disrupts the peace and content beginning to settle over the room.

Knocking. On your door. It’s light but sharp and very persistent. Seokjin pauses the show, confused but alert.

“Who on Earth…?” you murmur to yourself, regrettably rising from the couch and parting from the warmth of the hybrids. There is an odd weight on your side as you stand, and you don’t realise that Taehyung has risen with you, clinging to your side, until you take a step and he bumps into you by accident.

Endeared by the way he dons a sheepish smile, you accept his company and make your way to the front door, wondering who on earth would even be making the effort to visit you on your day off. Rustling sounds from the couch, but you figure it’s just Seokjin getting comfortable and preparing to wait.

“Just a second!” you call out when the knocking stops, worrying the culprit is leaving. Did you order anything recently? Are you expecting anyone and just forgot? You really don’t think so. Taehyung trails after you, connected only by his loose grip on the bottom of your shirt.

You could have peaked out of the peep hole, but you don’t, going straight to opening the door instead. The figure waiting on the other side makes you halt in surprise. Taehyung shoots ramrod straight behind you.

“What are you doing here, rude cat?” you ask in surprise after a moment, teasing nickname tacked on by default. Changkyun gives you a borderline dirty look, but doesn’t speak for a moment- his attention is captured as he catches sight of the hybrid plastered to your back. His mouth forms an ‘o’, realisation dawning across his features.

“Ah, the unhappy audience….” He murmurs to himself, a glint entering his eyes that you absolutely do not like one bit. Before you can warn him off whatever idea has just entered his head, he turns his gaze to you and offers a bright, if somewhat cheeky, smile.

“Hey, y/n,” he purrs, taking a step closer. You’re suspicious immediately. “You left something at our house last time, and since we were driving past your place anyway the madame asked me to come bring it up to you.”

As he finishes speaking, he pulls something out from behind his back, holding it out to you. You can feel the tension of the hybrid beside you as you reach out and take it, eyes wide.

“Oh, my cardigan,” you mutter, holding up the dark pink article and pursing your lips in surprise. “I did wonder where it got to. Thanks, Changkyun!”

“No problem!” he answers, perhaps a little too easily, He rolls the ring on his bottom lip as he stands in contemplation for a moment. It’s as though he considers doing something, entertaining the thought for a moment before deciding against it. Instead, he offers you a sly smile, beginning to step backwards. “See you next week, y/n.”

You return the farewell, waiting until he is a good metre or so away before closing and locking the door. The second you do, you feel Taehyung pull away from your back. Surprised, you turn in question—the second your gaze falls on him though, you freeze.  

You’re not sure if you can describe the current look in his face in just a single word—there are many emotions that seem to flick across his features, but the one that seems to linger the most is hurt.

At the realisation you’re baffled, understandably, and while your brain attempts to put pieces together and figure out why Taehyung is looking at you like that, he pulls away. His brows are furrowed, bottom lip a split-second away from trembling fully.

“Tae?” you ask, tentative. At the sound of your voice though the hybrid shakes his head, expression even more upset than before. It makes your stomach drag down with guilt and a certain sense of anxiety. Taehyung steps back, looking at you for just a moment longer before he turns and flees.

A call of his name is stuck in your throat and you can only watch him go, hearing him pass through the hall and then hurry up the stairs. Absolutely boggled, you almost miss the movement from the doorway to the living room.

You turn your gaze just in time to catch a glimpse of Seokjin as he slips away, following the same path Taehyung laid through the house just seconds earlier. After the sound of him climbing the stairs passes, you’re confronted with the painfully familiar sound of their door slamming closed upstairs.

You don’t have to have seen his face to know that without a doubt, whatever you’d done to hurt Taehyung’s feelings so suddenly, the same applied to the older hybrid.

God—you don’t even know what you did!

This is getting utterly ridiculous and at this point you’re sitting and stewing in your own ashamed juices. You’d just been so close to mending things with them! How had things turned around so quickly?

It’s like a bag of rocks has been dropped in your chest, pushing your heart down to your stomach. You feel very crummy, suddenly. You don’t doubt they feel similar. They’re not going to sit and watch something with you now, and there’s no point in waiting for them to come down because you’ve been with them long enough to know that they won’t.

What are you supposed to do?

Fighting a sudden batch of irrational tears that have risen to sting your eyes and threaten to fall, you scrunch the cardigan in your grip and make a beeline for your room. You don’t bother going to turn off the TV because right now you’re too upset and it’s just going to remind you of how you’ve managed to ruin things, again.

As soon as the door closes behind you and you’re in the sanctity of your room, you let a sniffle escape. The silence that echoes off the walls is all that answers and you throw yourself onto your bed, phone in your hand.

Even though you’re sad right now and want nothing else than to just cry into your pillow a bit and get these horrible, heavy feelings off your chest, `you know you can’t let this go on any longer than it already has. Somewhat sulkily, you unlock your phone and open the browser, returning to your search from earlier. At this point you can only conclude that the problem is you, and that you won’t be able to find anything to help your plight online.

Of course, that’s the last thing you want to be true. And so you return to your previous search, going through all the tabs you opened up previously and rereading to see if there was anything you’d missed or misinterpreted. You’re not all that optimistic, though, and as you read you try not to think about the sneaking feeling you have that you’re not going to find anything to help you fix this new mess you’ve made.

X     x     x   x     x

An hour later you’re climbing hastily from you bed, standing corrected. You’d just found the answer and the solution you’d been looking for—the fact that it was in one of the first pages you opened earlier and you didn’t get it until just now is an incredible source of shame for you. At this point in time you’re very frustrated with yourself, but thankfully there are more pressing matters to attend to.

You know what’s been bothering your hybrids and upsetting them so much.

Of course, in retrospect it’s something so painfully obvious that you want to kick the ground and ram your head straight into the wall at the same time. You read earlier about how change and stress can affect hybrids more than humans, but it hadn’t really sunk in the types of changes and stressors they are especially sensitive to. Reading through one of the first pages again had something you missed the first time through smacking you in the face the second time round.

Your hybrids are unsettled because you’re their ‘owner’, and you’ve been going out and hanging around other people and hybrids, covering yourself in a myriad of strange, different scents, when they haven’t scented you yet.

Your face warms as you recall everything you’d read after clicking the hyperlink on that word in the original article. Scenting can entail a lot of things depending on the hybrid, but mostly its innocent, and something they need to feel settled and secure, something instinctive. Which explains a lot of things, honestly.

Again, you feel so stupid.

Now that you’ve… enlightened yourself, you have the decency to feel a little ashamed and guilty for not taking better steps to understand your hybrids and accommodate them. It’s on you that you didn’t know any better because you hadn’t done the necessary research, but at the same time you wish they’d come to you and told you what was wrong. Although, you know that considering their background, it’s probably hard for them. They’re never sure of their boundaries, where they can go and how far they can push—they’re too cautious and worrisome sometimes, you think. You have a feeling that that’s kind of what was happening behind the scenes here too.

Trying very desperately not to give in to the flustered blush that’s trying to heat your cheeks at what you’re about to do, you attempt to calm yourself by going through the motions as you normally would at this time of day. It’s late enough that you can justify changing into your pyjamas, and so you do—and although these are the clothes you usually wear to bed, the fluffy pants and thin-strapped singlet leave you feeling a little more exposed than usual. You know that you’re going to be more than a little embarrassed while doing this, but honestly you’re just going to have to push through it—it’s the least you can do considering your part in this.

Once changed, you kind of want to climb back in bed and procrastinate the inevitable a little longer, but you force yourself out of the room. It’s somewhat sheepishly that you emerge, attempting to be quiet with your door even though you know there’s no way they’ve left their room. The trip down the hall to their door is quicker than you remember and it isn’t long before you’re taking a breath to prepare yourself and knocking softly on their door. The response is instant.

“Go away!”

You fight a smile at the sound of Seokjin’s voice—his words say one thing but the waver and hints of a plea in his tone say another. It’s cute, the effort he’s putting into trying to show you he’s upset when you have a feeling he wants nothing more than to spend time with you as he usually does. You take a moment to steel yourself before letting out a huff.

“I’m coming in,” you announce, trying to keep your tone gentle, and then you open the door before he has time to protest. When you swing the door open and step in, it’s to the sight of him sitting on the queen bed with his knees tucked to his chest, his face red— although you can’t tell if it’s from anger or embarrassment.

“What do you want,” he grumbles, reminding you very much of a child with the way he averts his eyes and pouts. His tail twitches anxiously behind him, his ears pressed against his skull. Your eyes sweep the room, confusion flickering amongst your thoughts when you don’t catch sight of his younger brother.

“Where’s Taehyung?” you ask, head tilting. Seokjin answers you a moment later, albeit reluctantly.

“He’s in the shower…” he says, and now that he mentions it you can hear the soft sound of music filtering through the wall. The dhole hybrid likes having something soft and jazzy playing whenever he showers or bathes, you suspect it’s because it helps relax him a little.

You hum in acknowledgement, standing in the doorway for a moment, leaning against the doorframe as you simply look at him. He seems to flush under your prolonged gaze, desperately trying to avoid meeting your eyes. It takes you a moment to decide how to start, and you try not to keep him on his toes too long. It still startles him when you finally speak a few moments later.

You decide to just bite the bullet and jump right into it. “Seokjin, do the two of you feel comfortable here?”

The male balks at your question, eyes wide as he finally looks at you. His knees drop into a cross-legged position against the bed as he straightens, sputtering. “What? Of course we do, you’ve given us everything.”

You wonder if he realises he’s fallen out of his upset character but push the thought aside in favour of continuing your interrogation, setting the grounds so you can lead up to a certain point. Distantly, you register the sound of pipes creaking in the walls as water is shut off and the sound of jazz music disappearing to a muffle. You shake your head at the male, but smile at his words. “Seokjin, what I mean is, are the two of you comfortable— do you feel at home?”

At those words, the hybrid freezes, staring at you with wide eyes. After a few moments he attempts to form a response, the conflict behind his eyes making your heart clench painfully. “I… we…”

You sigh, offering the male a slightly sad smile. “Seokjin, it’s okay. I… I’m sorry. I realise that I could have been doing a better job, with this whole thing. I should have done more to ease you guys into this, and reassure you.”

The male is silent, his eyes glistening slightly. You continue, “I realised earlier that it’s possible you don’t feel like… like this is a permanent home for you, that you could feel as though I’m just a middle ground or a foster home and that you can’t really settle or feel secure here. Is that right?”

His mouth falls open, expression conveying just how completely caught off guard he is—you are right, it seems. He can’t seem to muster a response, but his features contort into an expression of guilt.  “y-y/n, I’m sorry—”

Realising the turn his thoughts are taking, you hurry to step closer and sooth him. “No, bub, you don’t have to apologise at all. This one is on me. This is as new for me as it is for you two, but that doesn’t excuse it. I need to do better, and I will. I…”

At the barest sound of shuffling, you turn over your shoulder and hold your arm out invitingly; Taehyung stands clad in his stripy pyjamas in the doorway and regards the two of you with wide, watering eyes, apparently having heard your conversation thus far. The second he sees your invitation he darts forward, perching on the bed in front of you and clutching the outstretched hand he’d grabbed on his way past.

You take a deep breath before looking both of them in the eyes, one at a time, and speaking. “I want this to be your home. I want you to feel comfortable, and safe, and loved. I want you to know that this isn’t a short-term commitment for me, okay? I’m not going to ever suddenly change my mind, I’m not going to stop caring for you or wanting you around.”

Your voice softens as you take in the way their eyes water slightly. “You can let go of that guard you have over your hearts, and you can let me in. I promise that I will take care of you. You’re safe here, alright? I’m not… I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.”

“y/n…” Seokjin’s voice wobbles, his chin trembling.  You reach up and wipe away the beginnings of tears, doing the same to Taehyung who moves and nuzzles his face into your touch eagerly. It soothes you to see his stormy mood from earlier has vanished completely.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to say anything.” A smile tugs your lips, a tender feeling warming your chest. “But… I do have something else to say.”

They both seem a little wary at your words, but relax when you cup their cheeks—Seokjin has long since moved over on the bed so you can reach him.

“I want to say I’m sorry, for not being more knowledgeable about hybrid things,” you say, catching the confused look in their eyes. “I’m going to do more research in the future, but for now…”

They seem to guess where you’re going with this, cheeks colouring. Seokjin mumbles, “You’re talking about how we’ve been acting, aren’t you.”

When you nod, he seems a little apprehensive and anxious. You speak before he can come to any drastic conclusions. “It’s because I come home smelling like other hybrids, right? And you don’t like smelling other hybrids on me.”

Now that you’ve voiced it, the two of them have the decency to appear somewhat embarrassed and chastised. They nod, heads hanging slightly, and you fight back a chuckle. At least they’re aware that it’s not an appropriate behaviour, though it’s not like they can help it. It’s instinct for them, and while its hard for you to wrap your head around as a human, you accept it. You accept them.

“You can scent me, you know.”

At your words, their heads whip up so fast you’re worried they’ll have whiplash from the sheer jerkiness and speed of the movement. Taehyung’s mouth has dropped completely open, eyes blown wide as he stares at you in disbelief—his whole face slowly stains pink and when you turn to regard Seokjin you find the fox hybrid in a similar state.

“Wh-what did you say?” he asks, so softly you almost wonder if you imagined it. He stares at you like he can hardly believe such words would come out of your mouth, like he’d never even considered the possibility.

“You can scent me,” you repeat, head tilting slightly. “I read that it’s something you need to do to feel secure, and comfortable… am I wrong?”

Taehyung’s mouth snaps shut and he shakes his head fervently, hands clutching yours at his cheek. Seokjin hurries to elaborate.

“No! No it’s not wrong, we… it’s an instinct…” he trails off, biting his lip. “We didn’t know… didn’t think you would be comfortable with it, b-because it’s…. it’s kind of weird….”

You tut, tapping your hand against their cheeks softly but enough to startle them. “You sweet fools,” you say, grinning—their ears perk up at the affection in your tone, tails twitching as though they contain the urge to wag. “I didn’t accept you unknowingly, I realised it would come with new territory and new things I hadn’t heard of or done before. Also, my cute boys, please don’t make my decisions for me. From now on, please tell me when something is troubling you, alright? Let’s keep honesty and openness as our policy. I really want the two of you to be happy.”

The two of them are nodding again before the last word even leaves your mouth, pressing their faces to your palms like eager puppies. It makes you giggle a little, and at the sound they both light up, tails giving a small wag.

“We understand, y/n,” Seokjin says, smiling and blowing you away for a moment with his beauty. “Thank you.”

You nod, appeased for now, and let a few moments of contented silence fall between you all before Seokjin is shifting suddenly, looking very much like he has something further to say. You look to him pointedly and he grows sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck shyly.

“Uh, about what you said earlier… c-could we…?”

You snort softly, sending him a reassuring smile. “Yes, Seokjin, you can scent me. Do what you need to do, pretty boys. I’m yours however you need me.”

The two of them are immediately visibly giddy at your words, though something foreign and dark sparks to life in their eyes. You don’t have enough time to decipher it before Taehyung is lurching forward, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you backwards onto the bed with him. Seokjin immediately shuffles back to accommodate, slotting himself perfectly into your free side when Taehyung nestles into the other. They seek out the crook of your neck on instinct, burying their faces there in sync and making you shiver slightly from the sensation.

They rub their faces against the skin, cheeks pressed to your shoulders, and keep that up for a while. You’re curious as to why that is all they’re doing; when you looked it up earlier, several sources said that certain acts embed the scent more deeply than others. Like rubbing their cheeks against you, versus licking, or even soft kisses as some sites had informed you. Different actions made the scent stronger. Although, you know that neither of them have been in an environment where they’ve been able to do this before, so you know this is all new territory for them as well and they’re unsure of their boundaries. Right on cue as you think this, you sense Seokjin grow slightly tense next to you, his movements slowing.

“y/n…”

You turn, pressing a kiss to the top of his head between his ears. “Seokjin, I know. Do what you feel you need to.”

With verbal permission from you, he sags in relief. At once he returns to clinging to you with a hand clutching your hip on the opposite side, worming beneath the edge of your shirt so he is closer to you. Taehyung shuffles on your other side, doing the same. You feel your heartrate pick up slightly from the way they nuzzle into you, lips brushing your sensitive flesh. It doesn’t help that all you read before is fresh in your mind and you know how scenting can go for hybrids of their type—the idea has your stomach flipping in anticipation.

Taehyung is the first to change his tactics. Burying his nose in your neck, he presses his lips to the skin in a soft kiss before you feel his tongue dart out. It swipes along your sensitive flesh in short strips, the tip of the muscle leaving blots of wetness in its wake—it’s a sensation that tickles slightly as much as it makes your heartrate skyrocket, and you can’t help the soft giggle that slips out as a result. You feel his answering smile moments later.

Seokjin has a similar idea, but his execution differs. His body curls around you, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hip as he begins to pepper soft kiss after kiss along the column of your neck. He pauses as he nears your hairline, taking a moment to bury his nose in your locks and bask in your scent—you shiver at the feeling and he holds you tighter in his arms.

There’s something about the act that seems to make them succumb that little bit more to their instincts. Unexpectedly, they quickly grow a little bolder. Taehyung pulls the thin strap of your shirt down so he can continue his trail down your shoulder and over the curve of your clavicle. Seokjin’s kisses turn open-mouthed, and he seems to have found a place on your neck just under the curve of your jaw where your scent is strongest—lightly, tenderly, he begins sucking over your pulse point. Your breathing hitches unwittingly in response.

At this point you think you’re going to have a heart attack; your pulse is off the charts and your stomach is a live pool of nerves. Even with what you read, your surprised and alarmed and shamefully a little excited at where this is beginning to go.  Through the haze beginning to permeate your brain, you realise you have to stop them in their tracks before they step too far and can’t go back. Still, it all feels so nice…

You’re only jerked into motion when Taehyung moves, shifting closer and holding himself slightly over you as his mouth maps over your clavicle and begins to move further down. Your heart jumps, and with a surprised squeak trapped in your throat you bring your hand to his head right before he reaches the start of your breast, almost at the edge of the singlet.

“Tae,” is all you say, but your tone seems to bring both of them back to the present a bit. Taehyung shudders, letting out a huff before simply dropping his body down half on top of you, head resting in the crook of your neck. Seokjin presses his lips to your skin in one long, final kiss, before burying his face there and relaxing against you as his brother did. Like this, they return to their earlier ministrations, before it began to get… yeah.

Now that they’re no longer making your heartrate jump to unhealthy levels, the longer you’re in their soft embrace the more sluggish and sleepy you feel—their warmth is like a blanket of security and safety thrown over you, their affection soothing any worries or stress you might retain from the week and day. The feeling is mutual; gradually, the two of them begin to slow in their movements, Taehyung’s soft lapping returning to the occasional press of his lips and nuzzle, Seokjin remaining still with his tongue darting out every so often. Without even meaning to, the three of you fall asleep there in each other’s embrace, tension soothed and worries mollified. One last thing crosses your mind before you drift off.

You really are starting to love these two hybrids with all your heart, but after this experience you have to wonder...

Is that the only thing you feel?

a/n: please let me know what u think,, and lmk if u enjoyed this with a like and/or rb!! also feel free to drop an ask, i’m keen to know what u thought! thank u for reading and supporting me!! <3

masterlist || prev. | next.

[shreddedleopard]

Twelve-million more reasons Historia and Levi are part of the Endgame. With Pictures.

You can read the first post I made on this here:

10 reasons it would make narrative sense for Levi and Historia’s character arcs to end together.

(This is the mega-evolved version.)

Okay, I’m going to put this out there now, and before you judge me, please just read the posts. You don’t have to agree. This is just an idea. But it makes a stupid amount of sense, at least to me. So here's your fair warning (and now I'm being bold): If you don’t want to potentially be spoiled, Do Not Read On.

Here’s the Theory:

Historia Reiss will give birth to a half-Ackerman child, and together with Levi, from the ashes and ruins of the world Eren destroyed, they will welcome the dawn of a new age for humanity, where Ymir’s curse and the power of the Titans is extinct.

I know. I sound like some crazy, Rivahisu nut. Granted, I am, but I’m not mad enough to make a claim like this without a shit-ton of evidence, because it’s such a damn twist it feels like it can’t be true. But just humour me.

Here’s the theory, then we’ll look at why it makes sense and how it might have been foreshadowed. Please note: I have less clue how this will tie in to Eremika endgame, so I haven’t mentioned this as much, but obviously that will be the other very important side of this coin.

10 months ago (In Japan, full term pregnancy is counted as 10 months), at the banquet celebrating completion of the new railroad, Levi and Historia, having had 3 and a bit years to bond over their shared experiences and become close, may have gotten carried away together and shared one night of being a bit more than friends. She’s well into her 18th year at this point, just to clear that up. This resulted in Historia getting pregnant. Okay just stay with me; I know. I know. I sound crazy. But hear me out. So this pregnancy, contrary to the belief of the MPs and rest of the damn world, was the complete opposite of planned. Historia tells Levi, and Levi immediately panics. Because, to steal Kenny’s famous line, Levi thinks to himself ‘I can’t be some kid’s dad.’

 Levi does what he always does best, and shuts down into business mode, telling Historia she will need to cover it up somehow. Historia does as he asks, probably reluctantly, because she really has developed very deep feelings for him during the timeskip, and finds some farm hand to take the blame, likely saying she made a silly mistake with some random and the father doesn’t want anything to do with the child, and so she needs a father for the child not to be illegitimate. Which is her worst nightmare, because of course, that’s what she was. Levi watches the exchange hidden in that famous hood, feeling very conflicted, because although he cares about her, he thinks it best if no one knows that it was him that got the Queen pregnant, and of course, he’s duty bound, with a vow to fulfil, so he has no time to be worrying about a family. (Silly Levi!) 

How ironic this conversation would be if this theory were true. Remember, Historia was completely willing to eat Zeke if needed. Instead, she got pregnant, unplanned, nothing to do with any plot or selfish wishes, just the result of a spontaneous act of love by two people who’ve grown to care for one another a lot. ANYWAY.

Because we know Levi actually has a good heart, he feels immensely guilty for all of this; he's just a product of his upbringing and thinks he doesn’t know the first thing about families, so it's better for all involved if he not be. See where this is going? The old cursed history repeating? Making the same mistakes as our parents? Plus, Levi is bound by his duty. He is incredibly important to the military still, and he cannot just abandon this for any of his own selfish wishes. He’s supposed to be the one to vanquish the beast titan. 

Cue ten months of Historia looking hella depressed and hopeless, and Levi being even more of an asshole than usual to everyone, and not really wanting to say too much at all, as well as making some terrible workplace decisions (lol) poor boy be distracted.

Look at his face 😭

Yes Levi. A month. Which means Historia is now due and you’re still stuck with beardy, without a solution and pretty soon no reason for the MPs not to turn the mother of your child into a Titan.

That’s what that face is. I thought he looked a bit weird first time I read these panels 🤔 He didn’t know about the wine. We see that later. Anyway, I keep getting distracted, stop. I’ll come back to this.

But fear not; Levi will have a choice to make. 

So this is where it gets a bit more iffy for me, because I'm not sure how it would work, so this could be a way off, BUT. I believe it will come to light that the combination of Royal and Ackerman genes will somehow cancel out a person’s ability to turn into a titan and connection through paths, thus making them truly ‘free.’

The founding titan has the ability to change Eldian physiology, according to what Zeke learned from professor Xavier. 

EDIT: Okay so here’s where I’ve had to tweak this a bit in light of there latest chapter. So we just had Zeke in PATHS. With none other than our second resident genius, and as proclaimed by Eren, the saviour of humanity: Armin. What do our boys have a conversation about? Reproduction and the importance of the small moments in life - it’s these little moments which matter, regardless of the desire or need to recreate. Interesting how both the leaf and baseball link back to what their ideas of ‘family��� became. If Historia and Levi were to be in the same scenario in PATHS, what would their items be? What truly means family to them both? 

Perhaps Armin and Zeke realise what is needed to lift the curse of the titans - maybe a blueprint for genes which can cancel out the connection to PATHS and the founder? If only they had a child with a new type of Royal-Ackerman DNA which might fit the bill ... 

Here’s Levi’s moment. He, with Historia, has created such a child - completely by accident, because of one of those ‘moments’ that both Armin and Zeke mention - moments that are simply just about enjoying what you have with no sense of how it might relate to anything bigger - a real rarity for both of them, considering their roles and constantly being asked to think about the good of humanity as a whole. What a beautiful irony, that in the moment they chose to be selfish and, to use freckled Ymir’s own words, really live for themselves, they set a chain reaction in motion that would ultimately save humanity. 

Where does this leave Eren and Mikasa? Good question. I believe Eren will die once the curse is removed, because tragically he is the character that has been forced to choose humanity over his own personal relationships. As Isayama has said before, Eren is a victim of the story. Mikasa will be the last thing he sees, hence the original dream at the start of the manga, where he wakes up crying. Something like this. But probably a lot better. Yeah.

Out of the ashes of the old world, a new one will be built, but through Historia’s kindness and love, and Levi’s guilt and understanding of what was sacrificed in the past, society will not repeat the same mistakes. The final panel could be Jean holding his child, perhaps with Mikasa, if she ever manages to get over losing Eren. That would be vague enough so that Isayama was able to show it to us already without spoiling much. Or maybe Jean’s dead and it’s not him at all. I don’t know. 😭

Right. Okay. So now you’re going, sweet story, but uh, there’s no way Levi could be the father. He’s so much older. Isayama wouldn't write a moment of romance like that. Not with him and Historia. YOU’RE JUST CRAZY.

Well this is where it get’s interesting. LET ME SHOW YOU. It’s foreshadowed literally everywhere. Right under our noses.

There is so much symbolism.

Dedicate your heart to what? has been Levi’s question recently. What are they all fighting for? What is he fighting for? How will he give meaning to his dead comrades sacrifices? Is killing Zeke really the extent of it? Is vengeance the true meaning of their sacrifices? Or is it something a lot more hopeful?

The answer is shown to us in the opening credits. And the ending credits. Several times. 

Levi says so himself - he keeps messing fulfilling the vow up - why? Why is he so worried about killing Zeke? 

Eren has the same questions to consider. Which PATH is the right one to take - revenge and violence with the rumbling, or love ... with Mikasa. We are literally shown what their choices will be in two virtually identically designed panels, which I’ll show you. Tragically, Eren’s choice is taken from him. He is a victim to the story - he must chose the path that saves humanity. Levi and Eren have been bound together through the theme of choices, and taking the ones which leave you with the least regrets, throughout this entire manga.

The upcoming anime episodes literally plot out the timeline of Levi and Historia’s changing attitude to one another, and then Historia’s pregnancy, it’s just so cleverly subtle. Isayama even tells us when/ during what event her child was probably conceived by just dropping dates in from other, seemingly unrelated plot lines.

Zeke gives pointed comments to Levi constantly - every other line of his is either a different jab at Levi about Historia’s pregnancy, a veiled question, or a reminder that he’s under the pressure of a 10 month time limit to do something about him, or Historia will have to eat him once she’s given birth. We start to see Levi unravel because of this, and make mistakes over and over.

It’s in official art. It’s in the soundtrack. Its in music videos. There’s interviews from Isayama that, when read in light of these ideas, suddenly take on a whole new meaning.

Isayama even trolls us. He’s laughing in our faces, the madman. Like, gotchu 🤣 suckers. While we’re all on Reddit and Twitter like, ‘Levi’s character has become so stagnated! He’s making such poor choices or not giving anything to the plot at all. All that’s left for him now is to give up and die! Be at peace, your story is over.’ OOF. Or, ‘Historia has just been forgotten! She’s become such a pointless character. Isayama just got bored with her and sidelined her.’

I’m going to try and write stuff up in the rough categories below, but these might change. I’ll link them when I’m done, and then pin this post. I’m a bit of a rambler so heads up - this may take a while 😅

There’s also a ton of people I have to mention who have contributed to this - I didn’t spot it by myself. I’ll tag them in the finished post too.

Historia and Levi’s Miscalculation: A manga tale featuring the Jaeger Bros., Pt. 1

Historia and Levi’s Miscalculation: A manga tale featuring the Jaeger Bros., Pt. 2

Historia and Levi’s Miscalculation: A manga tale featuring the Jaeger Bros., Pt. 3

Ackerman-Royal Bloodline and Levi’s Choice Pt. 1

Levi’s Choice Pt. 2

Suns, Moons and Songs

Akatsuki No Requiem - Right theory, Wrong guy

The Farmer and The Cattle Farming Goddess, or WHAT’S IN A NAME.

Mistakes of our parents and breaking the cycle

Memories from the future & Levi’s Guilt

Watch this space. And hold on to your pants. If I’m right, I’m getting very drunk.

[iceeckos12]

tma fic recs

I’ve seen a couple of fic rec posts floating around. since ive been reading so many excellent fic recently, i thought that id make one as well! please note this list is going to be 99% jonmartin. also buckle up, because this is going to get long.

Completed

the umbrella by Wildehack (tyleet)

"And to think—all of Jonah Magnus’ carefully laid plans, the centuries of scheming, the murders, the sacrifices, all of that work could have been completely undone if Martin Blackwood had gone back for an umbrella" - holdthosebees

Notes: This is probably my go-to fic if i want an apocalypse never happened scenario. The jonmartin is wonderful, as is the h/c.

Diary and Prenon-nous la main by luftballoons99

Diary summary:

Not for the first time since they ran away together, a camera reel of all the things they don't know about one another whirs behind Martin's eyes, and he can't help but look at all the sprawling magnetic tape and wonder if they’re going to wind up a romance or a tragedy.

or: Office parties, garage bands, and the joy of being known.

Prenon-nous la main summary:

They still haven't talked about it, any of it, not even to pass the time on the long train ride to Scotland. Instead, Martin fell asleep in the seat next to him, pressed into his side from shoulder to knee, and Jon thought about love confessions and verb tense and how the two fit together when you think you're dying.

or: Good cows, mediocre poetry, and other crucial topics of discussion.

Notes: Do you love impeccable safehouse jonmartin characterization? do you love characters grappling with the mortifying ordeal of being known? do you love softness so tender that it makes you want to weep? please read these fic. im begging you.

i’ll tell you about all the times i’ve smiled because of you by cryptidkidprem

Summary:

Martin thinks about their shoes, sitting beside each other on the floor by the bed. Thinks of the way Jon wears Martin’s cardigans more often than he wears his own, the way Martin’s started keeping elastics around his wrist because Jon always forgets his own when they go out.

He thinks about all the gentle touches and fussing over each other they’ve done, and how much is still to come over the next… however long Jon will have him.

They have a long way to go, an entire life to build out of the wreckage Jonah Magnus and Peter Lukas left them, but laying together in a comfortable, sleepy quiet, Martin thinks they’ve got a good start going.

Or, Jon quits the Institute, saves the world, and it turns out to be exactly what he needs in order to heal and start moving forward towards building a life with Martin.

Notes: how many times have i reread this fic? more than i can count. jon quits the institute and it’s just full of soft jonmartins. they get married! god i love them.

go softly by doomcountry

Summary:

And there is nothing else besides this.

Notes: every time i remember this fic i reread it. please heed the tags because martin is blinding jon, but he’s like. blinding jon in the most heartbreaking way possible. idk how the author made this so tender but i know i was certainly crying so!

The Reverb in These Holy Halls by  Wolftraps (AlwaysBoth)

Summary:

Undoing the apocalypse would have been enough for Jon, if all his people survived. Without them, Jon's only recourse is making it so it never happened in the first place. He's going to do better this time.

Notes: Do you like time travel fixits? i sure like time travel fixits. reverb is an excellent one. heavy on the h/c, I wanted to hug jon so so badly. 

Yesterday is Here by  CirrusGrey

Summary:

"Who the hell are you?" Jon could feel his hands shaking. The man laughed, taking a step forward and raising a hand to point at him. "I'm you, from the future!" he said, then swayed, eyes going unfocused, and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint. -------- Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.

Notes: Yet another time travel fixit! also excellent. the teasing was HYSTERICAL. also Im just going to say this now - CirrusGrey in general writes incredible tma fic. You can’t really go wrong.

unassigned supplementals by  bibliocratic 

Notes: I won’t put in a summary just because it’s a long series of oneshots, but bibliocratic’s writing is amazing. Again, you can’t really go wrong with one of their fic!

let the soft animal of your body by autoclaves

Summary:

Standing in the warm kitchen, slats of sepia light filtering through onto the counter in front of him, Martin doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He half expects them to go through the countertop entirely, glossy and solid as it is. He isn’t used to any of it, yet. The safehouse. Jon. Beams of sun pouring into his hands. After being deprived of everything of significance for so long, the longing that crashes over him is almost painful in its tangibility. He wants to laugh, to sob, to scream and hear it echoed back against the neat, square walls of the safehouse.

In the end, he doesn’t do any of these things. He makes eggs instead. He can do that, can’t he? Use his hands for something simple and plain and good.

(Or: In the safehouse after it all, Martin starts cooking.)

Notes: this fic really speaks to me a) because i project on martin like crazy and b) because food is also my love language. this fic is incredibly soft and it’s all about cooking!

“Have you tried turning it on and off again?” by shinyopals

Summary:

I hope you find your new role as Head of the Institute as rewarding as captaining the Tundra, wrote Elias Bouchard, to Peter Lukas. There are so many people working there: all with their own interesting lives, and all desiring your attention and support. I'm sure you will relish the challenge it will bring and enjoy every moment spent with the fine men and women of the Institute. In time I'm confident they'll become like a family to you.

The Magnus Institute has a new boss. The Magnus Institute also has a new tech support technician. These two facts are unrelated, except they both happen at the same time.

Meanwhile Jon's woken up from being dead for six months and for once he's trying his best. He just wishes Martin would stop avoiding him and answer his messages...

Notes: if you’re looking for a good laugh, this fic is SO SO SO FUNNY. i was dying. basically the magnus institute being an absolute bureaucratic nightmare.

hello my old heart  by  firebirdsuite

Summary:

Peter’s wrong, of course. When it’s all over, Martin does still want to tell Jon everything. It’s just—well, there’s a few things they need to work through first before they can get there.

Martin and Jon find each other again in Scotland.

Notes: it’s all about the yearning. and trust me, the yearning in this fic? im just. i sure do love jonmartin, and this is such soft, loving jonmartin it just makes you want to cry

two ships passing by pyrites

Summary:

Gerard Keay is 10 years old the very first time he tries to run away from home, right around the time that Jonathan Sims has just come into possession of his first Leitner.

Or: One dropped stone can change the way the whole ocean moves.

Notes: again, JONGERRY. MY GOODNESS. this fic is beautiful, the writing is absolutely breathtaking and it owns my heart. im so in love with it. the author said you’re going to have emotions about jon and gerry and jongerry and i said OKAY

Terminal Sight by viv_is_spooky

Summary:

Spider silk weaves through the visions of two Seers. Monstrosity is dawning on them both.

Notes: I’d never read a gerryoliver fic before this, but the execution is EXCELLENT and now im sold on the ship forever. This fic has wonderful prose and great characterization and i love it a whole lot.

Incomplete

assistant archivist au by  PitViperOfDoom

Notes: I won’t put a summary since I’m reccing an entire series, but. it is absolutely no secret that i adore jongerry. pit’s assistant archivist au slapped me over the head with some gorgeous jongerry oneshots and then gave me the gift of the main fic (which is still in progress) about head archivist martin. i love this au so so much

dustsceawung by  callmearcturus

Summary:

Martin had always been favored by the summer courts, and moving up north to the little village of Lacuna is a difficult adjustment. It's rainy and lonely and everyone seems to have a strange, distant relationship with the local faerie court.

However: there is a strange man in a cloak who walks past Martin's remote little cottage every few days.

However: there is a moth that keeps getting stuck in Martin's house during the rain.

These events are not as disconnected as they first appear.

Notes: you ever just read a fic that you didn’t know that you needed until after you read it? yeah. featuring the fae and moth jon and excellent characterization.

Illicio by ThatOneGirlBehindYou

As the new Archivist debates between life and death, the Eye ponders on what to offer him in order to avoid an encore of the unfortunate situation with his predecessor.

-----

Gerard Keay opens his eyes at what feels like fuck-ass in the morning, inside a room with far too little space and far too much dust.

Notes: This is also the moment where I reveal that im a sucker for jongerrymartin. please read this fic. gerry is brought back from the dead in s4 and everyone is far better off for it.

where there’s a will, we make a way by bubonickitten

Summary:

"So, what does happen if an Eye learns to See within itself?

What happens is this: the Archive Beholds the Watcher – and the Watcher blinks first."

________________________

Jon goes back to before the world ended and tries to forge a different path.

Notes: this time travel fixit is shaping up to be an absolutely incredible read. i love the way this author writes jon so so much, and the characterization is spot on. this whole fic just satisfies some little part of me. god. also!! bubonickitten’s writing in general? beautiful. please check out their other works.

The Timeline of Theseus by Applea

Jon tries to force the Spiral to send him back, but the Sprial's corridors never twist things quite the way you want them to. Back in 1996, Elias has no idea why or how the Eye made such a powerful Avatar out of an 8 year old, especially when said 8 year old doesn't actually know he has any powers at all. Clearly such a child cannot be left outside the Institute's care. 

Notes: This fic is legitimately brilliant. The author manages to capture the big ADHD mood and the precociousness of baby Jon while managing to write a wonderful storyline. Time travel! Elderly lesbians! A Jonah who is wildly in over his head but was walloped over the head with paternal instinct! Baby Gerry! What more could you possibly ask for?

rooms full of people who do not love each other yet by seaer

Summary:

“Wanted to ask about a book.” The boy has his hand on the counter, and he leans into it, nonchalant. The library is air-conditioned, but by no means frigid, and Jon can’t help but feel sweaty just looking at the layers he’s wearing; what looks like old leather over an olive-green Magnus pullover over his school shirt. “Do you have A Journal of the Plague Year?”

Jon says, tetchily, “We’re about to close.”

“I know. Do you have A Journal of the Plague Year?”

Notes: I am so in love with this author’s writing style and the way they write the characters!! The jon and gerry friendship is PERFECT and the character interactions are all darling.

if you read these fics please send the authors some love, they definitely deserve it!! 

[tloujm]

Part I: Going Home

Author’s Notes: This is the first chapter of my first Joel Miller fic. As mentioned in an earlier post on my main page, my desire was to veer away from canon and it does...like a lot. It still keeps enough details to make it familiar, but I rearranged it to fit the plot that I had in my head. This takes place after the events of TLOU. It does utilize some scenes at the end of the first video game, but most of the plot is inspired by the second game. The reader, you, is replacing Ellie. Instead of a father/daughter relationship, there is a romantic relationship between Joel and a more age appropriate OC/reader. The reader is still younger than him but an adult. Its up to your imagination how much of an age difference there is. I try to keep things vague regarding the physical description of his romantic interest to make it easily relatable for a variety of readers. It’ll probably get more specific in later chapters to help with imagery of certain scenes *wink wink*. I’ve proof read it, but let me know if things don’t make sense. Please show love if you enjoyed reading it! Even if no one reads this, I enjoyed pouring out my love (and lust) for Joel. 

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Summary:  Joel drove you to Jackson to live a more stable and comfortable life. It was his best way to protect you; that and lie about what really happened at the Fireflies hospital. His goal was to move on from anything Fireflies related, but you couldn’t quite do that. So many questions ate at you which caused your emotions to conflict. You wanted to trust Joel; you felt something deep for him. Unbeknownst to you, he came to terms with his love for you when your life was threatened at the hospital. It was you or them and he chose you.  

Ship: JoelxReader

“They stopped looking for a cure. I’m taking us home.” Joel said before falling silent on the car ride to Jackson. 

It was a long ride from the hospital in Utah to Maria’s settlement in Wyoming. You would drift in and out of sleep in the back of the car Joel was driving. Home. He said it so naturally as if Jackson was the destination the whole time. A home felt comfortable. The word gave you warm feelings as it was something you hadn’t known for a very long time. That sense of content mingled with the anesthesia allowed you to push away any more questions you had. 

They were still there, however; popping up more frequently in your head. After the car ride, Joel was careful not to mention anything related to the Fireflies or the hospital around you. His lack of transparency caused you to be a bit hesitant. The words just wanted to roll off your tongue; it was so close, you could taste it. Tell me everything. What did the test results say? Where are the other immune? How could they have given up? You remember the look in the eyes of the Fireflies back east. They were so eager to find a cure. 

Just a week ago, there was no one in the world you trusted more than Joel. Being around a group of strangers in a state that you’d never been in, Joel was a crutch. He trusted the place because of Tommy, so you knew you should too, but it wasn’t that easy. At the same time, however, you had the instinct to keep your distance from Joel. He caused an inner conflict with you. 

The settlement itself was easy to love though. The running water, electricity, stable of horses, fresh food and the list went on. It wasn’t easy to maintain these resources, but it was damn better than hunting and gathering out there everyday. Joel picked out an empty house within the settlement walls large enough for the two of you. He fully expected you two to sleep in separate rooms but he did not expect you to reject the house altogether. He may have been your social crutch, but you just felt better being in your own four walls. Being protective, he preferred to have you close, so the two of you made a compromise by agreeing that you live in the garage. It was quite large as it was a two-car. After a little while, you were able to make it up in a way that suited you. Soon enough, the only thing you had to share with him in the main house was the bathroom. It wasn’t that you wanted to avoid him completely. In fact, he peaked a certain interest in you which furthered the inner conflict. 

Having space from Joel was difficult because you hadn’t yet made friends. Between the anesthesia weakening your body and Joel’s air of mystery, people tended to tread lightly around you.The only other people you really talked to outside of him were Maria and Tommy. It was surprisingly easy to fall into a domestic routine of sorts. The two of you ate together, walked around outside together, patrolled together. Watching Joel sit on the porch or relax on the couch after a long day gave you a glimpse into how he must have looked before the world went to shit. After all that he’d been through, watching him rest warmed your heart. He deserved it, you thought. He didn’t smile often, but you caught him smiling more since arriving home. 

Laying in your bed, you thought back to the period right before you arrived at the hospital. It was probably the best part of the whole journey. The weather was just starting to get warm again, the scenery was lush and most impactful of all, the two of you were getting along. Not just in a civil way, but in a ‘something more’ kind of way. At least that’s what you felt and you couldn’t help but tread across those waters. Joel became more open with you. He would play into your flirtatious antics as if he wanted more. Despite knowing that the journey was nearing its end, Joel allowed himself to enjoy your company as you did his. You remembered that he even asked if you wanted to continue the journey further, at one point. He said that the two of you could turn back now and head north to Jackson. Sometimes, you wish that you had chosen that option instead, but you know that you’d just regret not choosing the hospital even more. 

Seeing Joel’s guard fall down, slow as it was, still is sometimes, made you happy because you liked the person that you saw underneath it all. It was still a struggle some days, though. A hardened look would appear on Joel’s face at the mention of the Fireflies, even if it was unrelated to you. Moments like those reminded you of the questions that formed not too long ago in your head. Moments like those prompted you to form new questions. Why did he look so defensive? What was he hiding behind those darkened eyes? 

After a few months of living in Jackson, you had finally mustered up the courage to talk to Joel about that day back in Utah. What was the worst that could happen? You were comfortable around him and he cared about you. He never said those words, but you knew that he did. You wouldn’t be in Jackson if he didn’t. 

“Joel?” You shout from downstairs. You entered the house from the back door without knocking like you usually did. He wasn’t scheduled for patrols today so you were hoping that he was home. 

“M’up here.” His voice responded from upstairs. You walked up the steps until you reached the hallway. The only door open was that of his craft room. 

“You making something?” You gestured to the raw piece of wood in his hand. He looked up from his whittling knife and turned to face you standing in the doorway. 

He shook his head. “I dunno what I should make,” He offered up a half smile. “Just shavin’ off pieces ‘til I figure somethin’ out.” He sat the knife down onto the workbench. “What is it, (Y/N)?”

You shrug casually. “Just wanted to see what you were up to.” You moved into the room and found a place to sit. Joel scoffed at his dinged up piece of wood before setting that down too. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you.”

“Shoot, darlin’.” His pet name for you always made the nerves that you had melt away, to an extent. You would constantly tell yourself that there was no reason to be nervous around him, but you saw the way he looked when he was triggered by certain words.

You let out a breath. “You know, back in Boston when I was bitten, I was not alone. My friend was there. She was my best friend actually.” You look down at the wooden floor. “Well, she got bitten too. We didn’t know what to do. We were scared. So she says, ‘Let’s just wait it out. We can be all poetic and just lose our minds together.’ She...I didn’t…” You shake your head. “I’m still waiting for my turn.”

“(Y/N)” Joel began before you cut him off.

“It was her, then everyone else I attempted to get close to after that. Why do I get to live when they don’t? Each time, others have had to take my turn for me and I don’t know why?” You pause. “Why am I immune?” It was the first question you had for the Fireflies but everything happened so quick and next thing you knew, everything went black. 

“(Y/N), that’s not on you.” Joel said gently. “I’ve struggled for a long time with survivin’.” He let out a sigh. “No matter what, you gotta keep finding somthin’ to fight for.” He made sure to look you in the eyes, even if you didn’t want to meet his.

“You don’t under---” You start.

Joel cuts in. “Now, I know that’s not what you wanna hear right now, but it’s---”

You speak up. “Back at the hospital...” You watched as his face began to harden. You contemplated what to say next. “Just swear to me. Swear that everything you said about the Fireflies is true.” He repositioned himself in the chair, never breaking eye contact with you.

His voice turned gruff. “I swear.” You stared at him for a long moment to read his face. He looked you dead in the eye and gave you his word. How much could you trust a man that would do that and still lie?

“Okay.” You nodded your head and left him alone in the room. Joel had half a mind to go after you, but decided best to give you space. You asked him to swear and he did.

*****

“(Y/N), You comin’?” Joel asked from the other side of the garage door after knocking. You didn’t forget that Tommy had invited the two of you over for dinner. After talking to Joel, however, you weren’t much in the mood.

“I’m coming.” You said with a huff.

You quickly threw on something nicer than what you usually wore and opened the door. You found him standing there waiting. He turned to you and smiled as if the most intense conversation you’ve had with him in months hadn’t just occurred. You offered a tight lined smile in return before walking off. The air was crisp and the temperature was just right. It didn’t take much for him to keep pace with you. Joel took glances at you every so often. You would only look back at him when he wasn’t. The thing was, you weren’t sure if he was actually lying. You could only translate the feeling in your gut. You stopped on the stoop of Tommy and Maria’s house as Joel lifted his knuckles to rasp the door. He waited a moment and glanced at you again.

“Hey!” Tommy exclaimed after opening the door. “Come on in.”

“Thanks, Tommy.” Joel muttered as he walked in. 

“Yeah, thanks for having us.” You followed. 

“Of course. It’s not often we all have a night off at the same time.” Maria chimed from the dining room. Joel grunted in agreement.

“C’mon, have a seat in here.” Tommy guided us out of the hallway. “Dinner’s just about ready, right hun?”

“I hope y’all like duck! I tried my best with it. I’ve never cooked duck before.” She brought a large roasting dish into the room and sat it in the middle of the table. “If not, there’s still mashed cauliflower and gravy right there and then some lima beans over there.”

“I’m sure it’ll taste really good, Maria.” You said.

“Now, where did y’all find a duck?” Joel inquired as a way to make conversation.

“I went hunting, brother mine.” Tommy replied, patting his older brother on the shoulder before sitting. Joel rolled his eyes and gave Tommy a pointed glare to which he chuckled. “Jesse told me about a new pond he discovered while out on patrol and well, you know, where there’s water, there’s life. So I decided to go see for myself and I took my rifle with me.”

“Shoulda told me. I would’ve gone with you.” Joel responded. He held out his glass as Maria came around with a pitcher of water. He nodded at her in gratitude.

“Nah. Wanted it to be a surprise for the dinner here. You ever had duck?” Tommy turned to you.

“No.” You shook your head. Tommy could sense there was something up between you two but he knew better than to bring it up at the dinner table. He wondered if Maria had caught on.

“Duck.” Tommy stated with a sigh, trying to think of something else to say. “Always thought it was a rich man’s food. Now look at us.” He carved into the breast of the roasted duck and began to serve portions.

“Next time, I’ll bring some caviar.” You spoke up. You saw what Tommy was trying to do, so you in turn tried your hand at comic relief. Luckily for you, it worked. The room broke out in laughter.

Maria sat down and grabbed her husband’s hand to her right and yours to her left. This prompted you to take Joel’s hand into yours. “We are rich in our blessings. We have food and we have each other.”

Maria quickly said grace before everyone at the table dug in. For something you’d never tasted before, it was good. It wasn’t your favorite meat but the dinner as a whole was delicious and fulfilling. You think back for a moment on how your full belly now contrasted to that of yours a year ago. The four of you sat at the table for an hour after finishing the meal. You had to admit that it was an awkward start but these were the people that you were most comfortable with in the whole town. That had to mean something. Even things with Joel subsided, if just for the evening.

The rest of the night was spent in the living room. The four of you caught up with each other. At times, the conversation included everybody and at others, it was just between Tommy and Joel which elicited Maria to spark up a conversation with you.

“How’s things going?” She gestured her head toward Joel. She caught on. “If you guys need anything, you know all you have to do is ask. We’re happy to do what we can.”

“Oh, we’re fine. I’m fine. I’m sure Joel’s fine but thank you.” You replied.

She looked at you for a moment. “Is there something going on between you two? I’ve seen the way Joel looks at you. Even the first time y’all came around to Jackson. I saw it back then and I know you live with him.”

You glanced up at him then shifted back to Maria. “Well technically I don’t...um no. There’s nothing between us. We’re friends.” You shrugged as if you had no idea what she was talking about. “I guess after traveling so far for so long, you just grow attached to each other, but that’s it.”

“I think he’s grown more than attached to you.” She shrugged as well. “But if he’s not who you want, then that’s fine. Just please don’t hurt him. Tommy has told me things about his past all the way down to their childhood. I don’t know what he’s shared with you, but he’s had it rough.” To this day, Joel hadn’t shared much with you, but you didn’t need to know exactly what happened in his past to know he’s had it rough. Everybody’s had it rough in different ways. 

“I could never hurt him.” You meant it. You just hoped that he could say the same about you. “I was wondering if I could ask you something.”

“Go ahead.” She replied.

“How do I go about changing my patrols? I don’t want to stop going out with Joel, but I would like to do it with other people. Make some new friends.”

She smiled. “I think that’s a good idea. Jesse is one of the patrol leaders as well as Tommy of course. Talk to one of them about it. They can pair you up with an experienced patroller to start you off. I know you’ve got experience patrolling with Joel, but it's just protocol when someone takes a different route than usual.” She paused for a moment to down the rest of her water. “Hell, Jesse might even take you out himself. He’s a good kid.”

“Thanks.” You replied.

[salarta]

What don't you like about Lorna's characterization in X-Factor?

Thanks for asking!

I believe in transparency, so before I get into that, I want to provide a little background on the point of view I’m coming from that influences my opinions.

I was opposed to Lorna being on X-Factor when it was announced. There was already a lot of bad blood and history for me with Marvel as a result of these past few years especially. I won’t exhaustively detail all of it, but the bottom line is, I was already in a place of having a low opinion of current X-Men comics in general.

Then when it was announced she would be on X-Factor, not even as the leader but just as a team member, that immediately grated on me. She’s been buried and sidelined for so long, and now she’s not only right back on the same title yet again after 30 years - that’s a second wave fringe title - she’s not even leading it, or doing other, more meaningful things outside it simultaneously.

Then I saw the interviews by X-Factor’s writer at announcement, which immediately gave me a couple red flags. One, the writer couldn’t seem to say a single thing about Lorna besides essentially “Magneto is her dad and Havok is her ex.” Not even about trauma, of which Lorna has tons of it. Yet she had no problem acknowledging trauma as an important story point for other characters. Two, in trying to form her opinion of Lorna, she said she talked to a couple friends, one of which she said put the Lorna x Havok relationship in a “new light” for her. Meaning she was limiting her fan input just to a couple people she knows and whatever biases those two have, at the exclusion of all others.

That’s my background. Before a single issue dropped. Now let’s get to the things I have problems with since it’s started getting published.

And I do welcome people correcting me if I’m incorrect about details of the book. Being wrong happens. The only true path toward a better future for Lorna is honest assessment.

My biggest problem with X-Factor’s characterization, as a whole, is that it completely disregards important parts of her history in the way she should think and act, and instead treats her like a blank slate.

This is clearest in X-Factor #4, the issue during X of Swords where Rockslide dies. Lorna is a survivor of the Genoshan genocide. We saw how deeply that wounded her. We outright saw her experience of being hailed as a sovereign princess by the people of Genosha, followed by those same people begging Lorna, specifically, to save them. Only for Lorna to be unable to do so, and unable to handle all the death and carnage and pain around her (note these pages are in order of her experiences, not publication order).

After the Genoshan genocide, we saw how not only did she survive this, she had those moments replaying constantly in her head and all around her until the other X-Men dug her out of Genosha’s ruins.

She suffered immensely from what happened to her. So much. But by the end, after dealing with the strain and trauma for so much time, she started to settle into a role from that experience somewhere in between Xavier and Magneto - which is extremely appropriate, considering her very first appearance in comics was all about her struggling between the “good of the X-Men” and the “evil of her father’s blood flowing through her veins” (as it was incredibly simplistic at the time).

This is the Lorna that came out of her hardships with Genosha. The one who felt the weight of those deaths and took them on to a point of being ready to fight for mutant rights.

In spite of this, Marvel has been ignoring the Genoshan genocide concerning Lorna’s history for 15 years now. Refusing to acknowledge it at all, as they let Jean fight Cassandra Nova on its ruins, and let Storm act outraged about its dead, and let Axis exploit it for Red Skull while Lorna’s written as off doing something completely unrelated.

The problem noted in the paragraph above is not X-Factor’s problem alone. It’s a running problem across all of Marvel.

But where X-Factor differs and is far, far worse is that X-Factor #4 not only completely ignored this event in her history. It had her behave as if she had no concept whatsoever of death and loss, had never received the development she did from the Genoshan genocide.

For over 15 years, Lorna’s been wiped from the Genosha story even though she went through the genocide and had served at Magneto’s side (before learning she was his daughter after all) during his rule. Not once in any of that time did Marvel allow the deaths of millions crying for her specifically to save them to impact their treatment of her. It’s been as if she suddenly no longer gives a damn about them.

But one mutant she doesn’t know at all dies nearby and she has a complete breakdown, running around unable to figure out what to do with herself, getting yelled at by her father to make the prophecies come out and later on wishing she could just disappear and stop being a part of anything at all?

That is not Lorna. Or rather, maybe it could count as Lorna from the 90s before Genosha ever happened. But it is absolutely not post-Genosha Lorna, the woman who endured the pain of millions dying all around her and came out of it a woman ready to fight through that pain.

Perhaps if this story acknowledged and incorporated the Genoshan genocide, did an incredibly good job justifying her behavior through that and making it all make sense, I would feel differently. But as it stands? This is an insult to everything she’s endured.

Which gets me to my other big complaints about this book. It doesn’t ACTUALLY acknowledge anything about her history at all.

This is where fans of the book will say “Oh X-Factor acknowledged Giant-Size X-Men when she built the base” and things like that. No. The book has only vaguely hinted at that history, which is very different from truly acknowledging and using it. The few times the book does this, such “acknowledgments” last for exactly one panel, and you have to be a real hardcore Lorna fan or long-time reader to have any chance whatsoever of seeing those statements as callbacks to her past. If you’re a casual reader, Lorna’s comment to Krakoa before creating the base could just as easily be read as that Lorna and Krakoa used to date and had a really bad breakup.

I’ve been asked before what would count as acknowledging her past. So here’s an example. Instead of the vague hinting with Krakoa, Lorna could’ve explicitly said something along the lines of “Hey, remember when Storm and the others helped me launch you out into space?” That would have been enough for a casual reader to know the amazing feat she did, its importance relative to current Marvel events, AND that she has a history with major known names in the franchise. 

But as written? It’s just a silly little joke of a character who’s apparently never done anything notable or interesting “before now.”

Aside from these problems, I’m not keen on what has over time appeared to be a running theme of “Lorna is stupid” on this book. It started with this simple “joke.”

An important note: this panel is out of context. It looks worse by itself, but I have since been corrected by a reader that what happened before this was Northstar trying to charge in, Lorna trying to stop him, both getting caught in this trap, followed by Rachel’s quip. And they do have a history from before X-Factor. They were on the same team, Starjammers, in the late 00s to early 10s.

If this was the only case I had, I wouldn’t be bringing it up. It’s fine taken in isolation. There’s a question of why Lorna’s the sole target of the quip when it was Northstar’s fault, and a problem that people could easily misremember this in the future as Lorna taking the blame. But a single moment is no big deal.

But then we have the scene from X-Factor #4 above where Magneto’s written as yelling at her, putting her down for not being able to get the prophecies out. Lorna even explicitly calls it a “fitting humiliation” during that story.

And then we have the most recent issue. Where Siryn outright calls Lorna dumb as the story has her act in a way that makes her being called that appropriate.

In other words, three times now, Lorna’s been presented as the object of ridicule. As a failure who isn’t able to make plans, think ahead, or handle these stresses that come her way. In essence, it’s wiping out the development she received not just from her experiences on Genosha, but also from her time as leader of All-New X-Factor. Would YOU expect this character, as presented, to be at all capable of leading her own team some day? Or of leading people in a movement, harkening back to when she was called the Queen of Mutants both post-Genosha and when she was initially revealed and Magneto was believed to be dead?

My expectations of X-Factor before it started releasing issues were low, as stated above. But as it’s been releasing issues, it’s just been confirming my worst thoughts about Marvel and how little they think of this amazing character who’s been through so much and never receives her due.

All it’s doing is exploiting her to sell the book and promote everyone else on it. That is my straightforward assessment and opinion of the book. None of the stories or moments truly address anything Lorna’s experienced. The initial story was about Aurora, setting up Northstar as the leader, and forming the team. The Mojoworld story was about Shatterstar. X-Factor #4 was about Rockslide and his death. The latest story is about Siryn.

And it’s great for all these other characters that they’re getting all this care and attention that they often don’t get. But it doesn’t have to come at Lorna’s expense. If she’s going to be on the book, it has to actually give a damn about what she’s been through and how it’s shaped her, and openly acknowledge her too often forgotten past spanning 52 years.  

I am not saying X-Factor taken as its own thing is bad. I’m not saying it treats any of the other characters bad. I’m saying it’s bad for Lorna, and she’s better off not on it even if she doesn’t get to join the new X-Men team. 

I will end off on a bit more of a positive note for people who happen to like this book. There are a couple things I do like about it.

I like the creative usage of Lorna’s powers in building the team’s base, and in having the prophecies encoded in electromagnetic signatures. Those are an excellent way to show she can be and do other things besides “bend spoons,” and she’s not just “Magneto with boobs” as far as power usage.

I also like that the book does not have a sexism problem in its treatment Lorna. Past treatment of Lorna had this problem in a big way, as demonstrated by this awful as fuck cover from X-Men Blue.

And I partly like the very last few panels of X-Factor #4, in that Lorna gets to do some public speaking among mutant colleagues. I loathe the treatment leading up to it, and I think it could’ve been much better if it followed the vein of one of the variant covers of Lorna holding up a sword in front of an army as if urging them onward to battle as a warrior queen would. But it was still better than okay.

But those few good bits do not in any way make up for the bad as I’ve seen it in this book.

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Pursue - Jim Hopper x Reader

Summary: How far can you push Hopper before he loses control?

Characters: Jim Hopper x female reader

Words: 5,310

Warnings: smut, language/dirty talk, light bondage, throat fucking, praise kink, implied age gap, I think that’s it? This is dirty smut so if that’s not your thing, don’t read. 

Author’s Note: This was written for sherrybaby14′s Fall Into You writing challenge. My prompt was to use the line “You want to be my good girl, don’t you?”

Pursue

Grinning with amusement, you twirled the phone cord around your finger and tried to sound innocent, though you both knew it was all an act. The mission was to drive Chief Jim Hopper mad with lust, and so far, your plan was working brilliantly.

 You had been teasing him all day, starting in the morning when he had received a call right as he got to the office. You could practically feel his surprise at your bold words, detailing to him how you were still laying naked in bed and wrapped up in sheets that smelled like him, wishing he was there to satisfy the lust you were currently feeling. He had growled out that you were going to regret teasing him when he got off work, and when you baited him further by saying that maybe you should just pull out your vibrator and pretend it was him, he gave a strangled groan and hung up. You had called about an hour later, and when Flo answered and said Hopper was busy, you asked her to relay the vague message of, “I took care of the situation myself.”

 It was now his lunch break, and you had, of course, taken advantage of the opportunity to call again, knowing that he couldn’t resist his curiosity about what else you’d have to say. You mentioned buying some new lingerie, a black lace teddy that clung to your curves like a second skin.

 “The neckline goes down a bit too low, so that I’m almost popping out. And I had no idea that the back would be a thong, but oh well, too late to return it now,” you said with an exaggerated sigh, listening intently for his response.

 Satisfaction darted through you at the unmistakable sound of increased breathing on the other end; you could clearly envision him in his office chair, leaning forward over his desk with a death grip on the receiver. The thought of him sitting there with a hard-on and trying to imagine what you looked like only served to ramp up your own desire, thighs squeezing together where you lounged on the couch in the aforementioned lingerie.

 “Don’t you want to know why it’s too late to return it?” you pouted, biting your lip to stifle a giggle.

 “Why?” His voice was raspy with desire, making it sound so low and commanding that you shivered.

 Giving a slow grin, you whispered, “Because I’ve been wearing it all morning, so it’s soaked from me thinking about you.”

 Dead silence. He must be holding his breath, body taut and unmoving. You knew because you were doing the same thing. Then, the smallest click...and the following silence lasted only a few seconds before the beep of a disconnected line sounded.

 He hung up?!

 Annoyed at the thought of him ending the conversation right as it was getting good, you redialed the station. Poor Flo was probably getting sick of transferring your calls to Hopper’s office, but she did so anyways. After the dozenth ring, it was obvious he had either left or was purposely ignoring you. Hanging up the phone, you puffed out an irritated breath that the game was over...for now.

 Getting up from the couch, you decided to make a sandwich for lunch. You grabbed your purple house robe and put it on over the black teddy before going to the kitchen to hunt down some lunch meat and bread. You really should go to the store later, seeing as how Hopper’s frequent visits had dwindled the fridge down to practically nothing. You and the Chief had officially started dating about six months ago, but it was only the past month or so that he seemed to spend more nights here than at his cabin.

 Getting the tall, brooding man’s attention hadn’t been an easy feat. It had taken weeks of you finding various excuses to stop by the station for him to finally get the hint. He later admitted that his cop buddies had all but begged him to ask you out, and that he genuinely hadn’t thought you’d be interested, the silly man. Usually you preferred playing a little harder to get, but from the moment you moved into Hawkins and met Chief Jim Hopper, you wanted him. And if you had to act a little too obviously interested to get his attention, then so be it. Otherwise he’d have never gotten a clue, since he’d had some warped idea that you were too young and pretty for him.

 But once you had gone on that first date, the rest was history. It had been hot and heavy from the start, especially after he’d asked what you were doing at Enzo’s with him and not someone younger and more carefree, someone who had their life together. You had smiled, grabbed his hand where it laid on the table, and told him that none of the youthful boys around town made you wet with just one glance, and none of them made you feel both recklessly turned on and completely safe at the same time. But he did.

 He had practically eye-fucked you for the rest of dinner, and you barely made it back to your place in one piece, Hopper unable to keep both hands on the wheel during the drive there. He had fucked you up against the wall right inside the front door, and it would be a miracle if the neighbors hadn’t heard your screams of ecstasy.

The chemistry between the two of you was off the charts, and it was by far the best sex you’d ever had. Just the thought of the things Hopper could do, of the reactions he was able to elicit from your body, had a shiver going down your spine as you cut the sandwich in half and took a bite.

 You had just finished chewing and swallowing when there came the unmistakable sound of tires screeching recklessly into the driveway, followed shortly by the loud slam of a car door. Putting down the sandwich, you walked from the kitchen into the living room. Right as you were starting to feel a bit alarmed, someone came up the front steps and crossed the porch, and your worry instantly turned into excitement. Those heavy, booted steps could only belong to one man...

 Standing there with bated breath, you heard the key you had recently given him turn in the lock, anticipation making your thighs clench. The door swung open and there he was, filling the entrance with his broad shoulders, gaze immediately zeroing in on where you stood in the middle of the living room. He walked inside, the door slamming slightly as he forcibly closed it with his boot. Dressed in his snug Chief’s uniform, your mouth watered at the sight of all that sexually frustrated man focused in your direction. His eyes trailed down over your form, nostrils flaring as he realized that all that stood between him and the lingerie you had teased him about was a thin layer of purple terry cloth.

 He took a step forward, but then halted when you danced backwards two steps. Brows furrowing, he took another step to test the waters, and sure enough, you backed up again. A teasing smile and cocked eyebrow signaled your enjoyment of the game, though Hopper looked far from amused. He suddenly came at you with a growl, but before he could get within arm’s reach, you turned with a squeal and fled.

 Adrenaline, fueled by a mixture of fear and excitement, pumped through your veins as bare feet darted from the living room and across cool kitchen tiles. The roles were suddenly switched from earlier, and the pursuer was now the prey.

 Skidding around the counter island in the kitchen, you grabbed the edge of the surface to help halt your forward movement, breath accelerated as you saw Hopper storm into the room only a second later. He eyed the counter with disdain then looked up and locked eyes with you, the intensity in his stare causing hair to stand up on the back of your neck.

 “You’re only digging yourself a deeper grave, sweetheart,” came the gruff warning.

 “That so?” you taunted back. “Guess you’ll just have to punish me then...if you think you’re quick enough, old man.”

 You saw the flash of anger in his eyes at your jab a split second before he charged around the counter on your right. Almost falling for it, you started to run to the left before realizing at the last second that he had only feinted going one way before abruptly turning around and charging the opposite. His intent was to cut you off before you could make it out of the kitchen, but you ruined the plan by skidding to a stop on the tiles. He was almost within arm’s reach when you flew back the other way, careening around the same side of the counter you had entered from and making a break across the kitchen back towards the living room.

 Heart in your throat, you sprinted through the lower level of the house, the bottom of the robe flapping out behind you like a beacon. There was a dart of euphoric satisfaction that you had thwarted him, as you beelined straight for the staircase with the goal of making it to the bedroom and closing the door. If you could get it locked in time, then it would be beyond entertaining to see what his next move would be. Images of him begging you to open the door and let him in flashed through your mind, making you smirk with sadistic glee. However, you should’ve known he wouldn’t let you get that far. Despite his size, Hopper was swifter and lighter on his feet than most people would suspect. In fact, you’d later look back and wonder if he had purposely let you think you were winning, and had actually been toying with you the entire time before waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in and capture his prey.

 You hadn’t even heard him gaining on you, so it came as a surprise when you only made it halfway up the staircase before strong fingers wrapped around your ankle, causing you to fall to your knees on the carpeted steps with a cry. Refusing to admit defeat, you continued to try and move forward, leg kicking against his grip, but he was unrelenting. You felt him come up the steps behind you, the presence of his large body hovering expectantly, waiting for you to turn over and accept your fate.

 “You should know better than to run from the police, baby,” he drawled in a raspy, lust-ridden voice.

 A shudder of arousal went through you at the words, and you slowly turned over onto your back, his hand still holding your ankle captive. He was looming over you, his broad frame blocking out the rest of the world. Looking up at his face, you saw that his pupils were blown wide with lust. The sight caused a smirk to twitch at the edges of your lips, satisfied to know that you weren’t the only one physically affected by all of this.

 “You think this is funny?” he growled menacingly, leaning down until his face was inches from your own. “Did you enjoy making me chase after you? Perhaps I should show you what happens to bad little girls who play games with the chief.”

 With that, his grip left your ankle as he all but tore into the tie of your robe, flinging it open and off your body. A groan of masculine arousal accompanied his hand diving between your legs, and you gave a soft cry at the feel of his fingers pressing into the soaked crotch of the teddy.

 “You weren’t lying about not being able to return this, baby. Even if the wetness wasn’t enough evidence, they’d be able to smell your cunt on it from a mile away.”

 Gasping at his filthy words, you were so focused on arching up into his fingers for more friction that you barely registered the sound of clinking metal. The realization of what he was doing hit a second too late, as Hopper lifted his hand from your crotch, grabbed both your wrists, and had the handcuffs clicked into place in the span of mere seconds. Even though it was futile, you still pulled at the cuffs, which only served to press the unrelenting metal into your flesh. You gave a huff of frustration that instantly turned into a squeal of surprise when he picked you up off the steps and threw you over his shoulder. Desire swirled in you at how his strength made you feel light as a feather, while the world also swirled as your head was suddenly upside down and staring at an absolutely delectable ass in tight, beige pants.

 Your own ass must’ve also been a distraction, as a warm hand came down with a smack on your left buttock that was bared by the thong of the teddy. He gave a second smack to the other cheek, causing you to groan and clench your fingers into the back of his shirt as he started up the rest of the steps and down the hall towards the bedroom.

 Once inside the room, he tossed you down onto the bed, back bouncing on the mattress from the force. Immediately trying to roll over and away, unwilling to admit defeat, your escape plan was cut short before it even began. His unyielding body came down over your own, thick thighs straddling your waist as he gathered your cuffed wrists in one hand and pinned them to the mattress above your head.

 Leaning down, he took your earlobe between his teeth before whispering, “Ah ah, baby. None of that. I caught you fair and square, and now you’re mine.”

 Shivering at both the feel of his mouth and the words coming out of it, your body squirmed underneath him with anticipation, declaring its surrender without your brain’s permission. Moving down to your neck, he sucked the flesh roughly, bringing blood to the surface so that you’d carry the mark of his possession around for days to come.

 The hand not holding your wrists captive ran down over your side, mapping the curves of your waist and thigh, his calloused fingers causing goosebumps to erupt on your flesh. He continued to skim past the places that wanted his touch the most, tracing fingertips lightly along the sides of your breasts in the black lace and along your lower stomach, before changing direction up and away from the part of you that wept for him. He caressed you slowly until every nerve ending was straining for him to do more, to give your body what it was craving. In response to your panting whimpers, he brought his mouth up to hover mere centimeters from your own, teasing you with his warm breaths.

 “What wrong, baby? I thought you enjoyed playing games?”

 Damn him to hell. You had no clue how he still had any control left, but apparently he was keeping a tight rein on his desire until he paid you back in full for your earlier teasing. You had meant to drive him mad with lust and be in control of the situation, but had apparently underestimated Hopper’s revenge tactics, which left you as the one panting and begging for more.

 Giving a groan of frustration when both large hands lifted from your body, you felt cold and bereft. Frustration turned to excitement at the sight of his fingers undoing the front of his pants, and you subconsciously licked your lips at the sight. Giving a deep chuckle at the motion, Hopper rasped, “Yea, you got the right idea, baby.”

 When the pants were unbuttoned and unzipped, he reached inside and pulled out his thick cock, the tip already weeping with desire. Unable to help the impulse, you lowered your hands towards it like a moth to flame, but they were grabbed roughly before you could even make contact. Shoving them back into the mattress above your head as he once more covered your body with his own, he leaned down and growled, “You want to be my good girl, don’t you?”

 A raspy moan and frantic nod was your response, the teddy becoming even more soaked at his words. A slow, arrogant smirk curled his lips; Hopper knew how much you got off on being praised, and he wasn’t afraid to use that knowledge to his advantage.

 “Then do as I say and keep your hands just like that, sweetheart. If you don’t move them while I fuck your pretty little mouth, then maybe I’ll let you come.”

 Another panting nod was all you could manage at the moment, your gaze fixated on the cock bobbing closer to you as he moved up the bed until he was straddling your shoulders. Grabbing his dick with one large hand, he gave a few slow, rolling strokes before placing the tip against your lips.

 “Open up, baby. Time to show the chief what a good little cock sucker you are.”

 You obeyed instantly, lips parting on a moan as Hopper fed you his cock. He started off slow and easy, barely moving his hips, which automatically motivated you to take control. Moving your head back and forth, you took him in with no added assistance. Grunts of pleasure fell from above as your tongue swirled around his tip and mouth worked his length. Looking upwards, you felt another gush of wetness between your legs at the sight of Hopper staring back down at you, heavy-lidded gaze focused on the sight of his cock disappearing between your lips.

Suddenly, he went from passive recipient to once more being in charge. His hand grabbed the back of your head and pulled forward while thrusting his hips. The movement forced his cock down your throat until his balls hit your chin and dark pubic hair tickled your nose, a strangled, fuck coming from the man above you. Eyes instantly watering as you gave a slight gag, you looked up at Hopper pleadingly, even though you knew the sadistic part of him loved watching you struggle to take him.

 It was all you could do to keep your wrists in place and not try to buck him off, but then his other hand came down and gently cupped your face as he rumbled, “What a good girl. You look so fucking sexy while choking on my dick, baby. I can’t decide if I want to come down your throat or wait until I get in that beautiful pussy.”

 His words caused your throat to instantly relax and loosen in submission, while your pussy clenched tightly with jealousy that it wasn’t the one being currently filled. As if he knew your body’s new dilemma, he reached back and down between your legs, which instantly spread to make room for his hand. Shoving the soaked fabric to the side, he ran a thick finger down your slit, causing your hips to buck and throat to moan around his cock, the vibrations wringing a strangled snarl from his lips. Two fingers easily slid inside your dripping cunt, his thrusts accompanied by the sloppy wet sounds of your arousal gushing around his digits. You felt dizzy, both with desire and the lack of oxygen, as you laid there with his dick down your throat, clenching on his fingers. Both your mouth and pussy provided him with a warm, wet welcome and begged for more, the two of you groaning simultaneously at the sensations.

 Disappointment and oxygen hit your lungs when he suddenly pulled out of your mouth, a long string of saliva hanging precariously between the tip of his cock and your lower lip before it broke and fell. Giving a cough and taking a deep gasp of air, you felt his fingers also leave your body as he reached into the front pocket of his undone pants and pulled out a set of keys. It was obvious by his pulsing, reddened cock that he had been close to coming but decided to wait until he got between your thighs, a decision which made your cunt pulse in eager anticipation.

 Jingling the keys teasingly between his fingers, he said, “You still going to be a good girl if I take these off?”

 Nodding frantically, you arched your body underneath him, panting, “Yes! Please, Jim!”

 Satisfied with your submissive response, he leaned up over your head, and you felt the cuffs fall away as he unlocked them. He set both cuffs and keys on the bedside table before taking a moment to bring your wrists down in front of his face, rubbing them gently while inspecting to make sure there hadn’t been any damage done. The gesture sent a flutter through your chest; even during intense moments such as this, Hopper’s protectiveness still reared its head, reinforcing that you were always safe with him.

 Once satisfied with his inspection, he moved off the bed before turning to fix desire-blazed eyes on you, thighs spread and chest panting as you awaited his next move. Without hesitation, he reached down and shoved the teddy’s straps off your shoulders, roughly peeling it down your body as if he were a kid tearing into a long-awaited present on Christmas morning. The fabric scraped down over your rock-hard nipples, causing a faint shiver, then was pulled off your hips and legs so that the cool air of the room hit your desire-glazed cunt.

 “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

 Smiling at his praise, you arched your back a little and cupped both hands under your breasts, offering yourself up to him.

 The animalistic sound that came from his throat sent chills down your spine, and he wasted no time in tearing off his uniform. You watched greedily as more and more skin was revealed, biting your bottom lip to muffle the moan of arousal when he stood naked and proud. You got a fine view of his muscled ass when he walked across the room to his chest of drawers, yanking the top one open and pulling out a condom. He came back but stopped at the foot of the bed, his sharp gaze searing a path down the length of your curves before lifting and locking onto your own.

 “Be a good girl and get on your hands and knees for the chief, baby,” he commanded in his best cop voice while tearing open the condom and rolling it down his throbbing cock.

 Body begging to be filled, you immediately obeyed, flipping onto all fours on the mattress, ass up and legs widely parted in presentation. Unable to resist a little teasing, you slowly rocked your hips back and forth while looking over your shoulder at him with a knowing grin. A jolt of excitement went through you at the expletive hissed from a clenched jaw, his predatory gaze raking downward, greedily taking in the way you were spread out on the bed and waiting for him. He had frozen for a moment with your movement, but quickly recovered and moved forward onto the bed at record speed, his body radiating heat and hunger as it came up behind your own.

 His rough hands trailed down over your sides while his cock bumped against your inner thighs, causing a shudder to ripple along your flesh. Arching back into him, you let out a whine of impatience, tired of the games and just wanting him to fuck you.

 Knowing you were getting desperate, he leaned down so his front fit to your back with mouth at your nape, as he whispered, “You ready for my cock, sweetheart?”

 His words stole your breath, so that you could only nod frantically before pulling enough oxygen to breath out a shaky, “Yes.”

 Unable to deny both of you any longer, he reached down with one hand to line his dick up at your entrance, and slowly pushed inside. Mewling with pleasure, you tried to widen your thighs even more on the mattress and gripped the bedspread as your walls stretched around his thick length. Fuck, but he was big, and your body never failed to remind you of that. No matter how many times the two of you had sex, that slight burn of possession always made itself known during that first thrust.

 Once he was balls deep, he went still for a few long moments, both of you savoring the feel of him deep inside. Then he planted his left hand down on top of your own on the mattress, the gesture dominant and possessive, yet also reassuring, while his other hand snaked around the front of your waist and dove between your open thighs. The tips of his fingers unerringly found your swollen clit, zeroing in with tight, fast circles in the rhythm needed to make you moan and instinctively push back into him. If there was one thing Hopper had learned over the past months of dating, it was exactly how to touch you in a way guaranteed to make come.

 And if there was one thing you had learned about Hopper, it was that dirty talk affected him just as much as it did you.

 “You can go again later, right?” you tried to sound seductive and saucy, but it came out as more of a breathless whimper.

 “Was that an insult, little girl? You think I can’t keep up with you?” he growled in your ear, fingers speeding up into even faster and tighter circles on your bundle of nerves.

 Shaking your head, you gasped, “I just really...w-want…I want to...”

 “Want to what?”

 Almost convulsing at the carnal, deep command in his voice, you panted loudly for a few moments before answering. “I want to finish what I started...suck you off. I want to feel you come in my mouth.” The words were puffed out in a rush at the end, head dropping forward from the overwhelming pleasure of his body over and in yours.

 “Fuck,” was the only verbal response, followed by the hand on top of yours lifting to grip tightly onto your hip. His thrusts increased until you had to clench the bedspread for dear life to keep from being forced face-first into the headboard.

 Even though it was usually him using filthy words to take control, to make you beg and come, the idea of turning the tables caused more wetness to run down your thighs. He might be dominating your body right now, but you had the key to dominating his mind.

 “Do you want that? Me taking your cock in my mouth, deep down my throat.”

 “Sweetheart…” he groaned warningly, his hips stuttering out of rhythm for a moment as he fought off his orgasm. The fingers at your hip dug in painfully as he jackhammered into you, while his other hand kept its punishing rhythm on your clit. Toes curling, you could feel him start to lose his iron-tight control, and fuck if that didn’t amp your own arousal up to new heights.

 “I want it...I want to suck your dick and...swallow every drop of your cum,” you gasped between heaving breaths.

 “Jesus fuck!” he cried, and a dart of triumph went through you as he upped his movements in a way that was pure carnal instinct, his control flying out the window and body taking over. Cock pounding so hard that his balls slapped your clit with each thrust, the wet sounds coming from your bodies was so obscenely erotic that you could only moan in response and hold on. The coil drew tighter until you were unable to speak even if you wanted to, knuckles turning white and every muscle in your body tensed as you hurtled towards the peak.

 With an animalistic groan, Hopper went over the edge, his large body shaking behind yours as the throes of ecstasy hit him. Not wanting to leave you behind, he kept thrusting, trying to drag you down with him. When his hand lifted away for a split second, only to then come down hard in a slap directed perfectly on your throbbing clit, you exploded. Sparks of pleasure radiated through your entire body, making your back arch and cunt pulse as you wordlessly cried out Hopper’s name like a litany.

 It took a while to come down from the high, both your bodies shuddering against one another with aftershocks. Giving a whimper when his now-limp cock left your body, you collapsed onto your side at the same time he also rolled onto the bed. Snuggling up behind you, his body spooned along your own so you could still feel his chest rapidly rising and falling, his breaths loudly puffed out against the back of your neck and causing goosebumps on your sweat-dampened flesh.

 You laid there in silence for a couple minutes, just soaking in the moment and allowing your heart rates to slow down to a more normal rhythm. Rolling over to face Hopper, you ran soothing fingers over his chest and looked up at him, happy to see his usual brooding expression had relaxed and the usual lines of tension he carried in his face and shoulders had eased.

 “So?” you asked expectantly, trying not to grin when his eyebrows raised in question.

 “So, what?” he grumbled, voice already taking on a sleepy quality that let you know he wouldn’t be conscious for much longer.

 “So...was I a good girl? Or do I need to try again?”

 His eyes, which had been drifting shut, shot back open and locked onto yours. He studied you intently, cop face firmly in place. “Ma’am, are you purposely trying to kill me? Because murdering a police officer is a serious offense.”

 Giggling with delight, which made his own lips curl upwards at the edges, you leaned in and whispered against his lips, “Even more serious than running from said police officer?”

 Closing the distance so that his mouth covered your own, he kissed you breathless before pulling back and murmuring, “They’re both serious, and you’ll be punished accordingly once I get feeling back in my legs.”

 Smiling, you traced fingers down along the side of his stubbled cheek and across his strong jaw. “I think it was only fair, considering.”

 “Hmm?” was the rumbled response, his eyes once again closed.

 “I just figured that after all the pursuing I did in the beginning to get your attention, it was about time you were the one who had to chase me.”

 Groaning in exasperation, he wrapped large arms around your waist and pulled you in close, body pressed full-length against his own. “You and the boys at the station are never going to move on and let me live that down, are you?” This was murmured in a low tone that let you know he wouldn’t be conscious for much longer, and you internally preened that he was so worn out.

 Since it was obvious he didn’t plan on returning to work anytime soon, you laid your head on the pillow next to his with a contented sigh. A quick nap couldn’t hurt before you roused him for round two and made good on your dirty words from earlier. You could hardly wait to try and make him lose control again, and maybe you could even sneak those handcuffs back in somehow.

 A soft snore broke the silence, Hopper unable to stay conscious long enough to finish the teasing conversation. However, knowing he was asleep made you bold enough to answer his question in a more honest way, the words a whispered confession of commitment.  

 “If it means more afternoons like this, then no, I won’t move on...ever.”

[wendibird]

SPN 15X14 Observations

So, for whatever dumbass reason, when trying to use my actual television, the cable refuses to work properly 8 times out of 10. BUT I was able to stream tonight’s episode on my computer with my cable network’s app. So, there’s that. Because of that, and since it’s easier for me to type on my keyboard than on my phone, I actually took quick notes and observations during commercial breaks. Here are those, then some more of my thoughts following. (And I’m sorry if any of these seem a bit incoherent. They were more my observations to myself. *LOL*  

(everything else under the keep reading line since I got a bit rambly, and just in case anyone wants to avoid spoilers)

- Brothers being written a bit like characters of themselves rather than just themselves. (trying too hard?)

- Love Mrs. Butters. Actress really good. And the minor ret-con works with what we've seen.

- Sam more concerned about Jack. I think he understands him better, even though he hasn't seen much of him.

- "Ignoring your trauma doesn't make you healthy." (or something like that.) Good quote!

- Waiting for the catch.

- "Enjoy the world you're fighting for." (compare with Kevin's similar line: "I can't enjoy a world I need to save.")

- Mrs. Butters knows Jack isn't human.

- BOY did the shoe drop! But it was Sinclaire involved. Not surprised he took advantage of her natural protective nature.

- Wanted more plot for WHY exactly they still have Thor's Hammer. Have they had it this whole time? Last we saw Sam dropped it in 8X2. Or did Mrs. Butters conjure it up because they might need it? Was cool though that Sam was using it. Because we already know he can.

- Jack figured out on his own how to use the projector. (love that boy!)

- liked hearing him talk about what happened with Mary and how he feels.

- Mrs. Butters knows from experience about needing "second chances" I think.

- Why were they ALWAYS wearing the same clothes during the "We got one!" montages? Assuming it was supposed to have taken place over several days at least if not longer. (I highly doubt they went out on THAT many hunts in one day.)

- Yeeeah... So I get she's protective, but JACK IS BABY! She can clearly see his power levels but she has to have seen how he he actually IS? But she gave him the smoothies from the start, so she's been planning it from almost the start. Hrm.

- idk what anyone else says, I'm thrilled that Sam and Eileen had a date. Also, THIS is where that sweater-vest comes from. Bet we'll see him going for his gun too. (That clip was hotly debated in one of the discord servers I’m on)

- Dean is obviously still having some issues with Jack, but he also seems to know that they're his personal issues and he knows that Jack is good. (Expanding on this thought post episode, I was seeing this as Dean recognizing the difference between what he knows and what he’s feeling. So, yey! Personal growth!)

- DEAN JACK IS NOT A BATTERING RAM!!!

- Dean sees Jack as a weapon. He used him as a battering ram. He'll use him as a grenade to throw at Chuck. (More on this after the notes.)

- Sam sees him as a person. His argument was that Jack was someone he cared about. That killing him would HURT him.

- Also, did they HAVE to go for the fingernails again?!

- Poor Sam, getting tortured. And being the "favorite" of something bad.

- Also, SAM WAS RIGHT! To be cautious of her at first. Too many times he's had things/people seem good and turn out opposite.

- And because Dean had decided it was all okay, they both stopped looking up on her.

- Maybe Sam will realize that he doesn't always have to follow Dean's lead. He can pursue his own paths. (Not talking about them separating. Just, if he wants to look into something, he should do it. If he wants to follow a different lead, he should check it out.)

- I know he lost a lot of confidence last season but I hope he realizes that he doesn't by default make bad decisions.

- Okay, that was a good resolution. I'm glad she's going back to her people.

- Interdimensional geoscope: Dean saw nothing. Because ALL the other universes are gone. *sad-face*

- Love Sam and Jack. Wish we got a bit more. But it was something.

- Also love that Dean tried. That felt real to me. (the birthday cake)

More thoughts! 

So. Overall I liked this episode. It was lighthearted mostly, but touched on some serious topics and wasn’t completely disconnected with what is going on with everyone, despite the random holiday montage. *LOL* (Yes, I know she wasn’t bending time or anything, she was just choosing to celebrate some holidays with her boys regardless of when this is all taking place exactly.) It did feel a bit to me, at the start anyway, like the writing at least was trying too hard to “Sound like Sam and Dean” instead of just them being them. I mentioned that at the start but what I mean is, in this season especially (but not exclusively) I’ve noticed a lot of times where it feels to me like the writing/directing/whatever leads to the sum total of what we see is trying too hard to present this idea of who the characters are, like caricatures of them. The things associated with them get emphasized, sometimes out of proportion. Though in this episode, it only felt like that during the opening scene and maybe a few places elsewhere. Overall I thought the writing and especially the acting on the parts of the main 3 guys and the guest actor were well done and had a lot of nuance when needed. Like, as an example, when Sam and Dean sussed out that this being that they didn’t even know was a bit behind the times, they were actually pretty gentle with bringing her up to speed. And her reaction to realizing that everyone she knew before was dead felt very real. 

I liked what we saw of where each of the characters were emotionally this episode. It was the first one after Jack has been re-souled and it had definitely been weighing on my mind how everyone was doing. (Though I REALLY wish we could have actually seen Sam and Dean’s reactions to Jack tearfully begging their forgiveness last episode. But lacking any other input, I’m headcannoning that Sam gave him a very long, warm hug.)  

I also agree with Sam, I think there’s something more that Jack hasn’t told them yet, probably some details about Billy’s plan that he or her are sure the brothers won’t like. (Now, what exactly that could be is very much up in the air. I can think of quite a few options, but the details aren’t really important to me just now. Just the fact that something about it is weighing on Jack. More than just Mary’s death and the prospect of having to kill God. Which, in and of themselves would be more than enough.) 

Speaking of Sam, I liked that we saw all those little nods to how he feels about Jack, how he’s still worried about him, and seems to understand him. 

I also get where Dean’s coming from. And I thought it was well-portrayed. And let me just say, I am GLAD that he just outright told Jack where he was at. He didn’t sugarcoat it, but he also didn’t blow up at him, or reply with sarcasm or bring up other, unrelated stuff. Dean knows that Jack is trying, but he himself has some emotional stuff he needs to deal with. That he is dealing with. And it’s going to take him some time. 

I do however stand by my observation made during the episode that at least at that point in it, Dean considered Jack a weapon. An asset. He literally used him as a battering ram, and in a more meta way, he’s planning on using him as a grenade to throw at God. Even when arguing with Mrs. B about it, his response was in reference to Jack’s usefulness. Whereas Sam was arguing that Jack meant something to him, that he cared about him, and hurting Jack would hurt him. Now, I do think that Dean’s POV had shifted a bit by the very end. Dean’s love language has almost always been shown by doing things for people, and taking care of them. So him making that birthday cake for Jack really felt to me like him trying to tell him that he does actually care about him. And I think Jack got it. And true, the cake might not have been as neat and pretty as Mrs. B would have made it, but I thought it was beautiful because of all the thought that went into it. (Dean’s more of a cook than a baker too.) 

As a side note, something I thought about after the episode: when Mrs. B stepped in, she kind of took over that care-taker role. AND the research role. She made them lunches, cooked them dinners, decorated for holidays, and overall made them feel comfortable and safe. And she also pin-pointed where monsters were and made sure they were all stocked-up and ready to go. All they had to do was show up and get it done. And yeah, it must have been a nice break from the norm. But I also think about how much Dean finds his identity beyond hunting in taking care of people. And how much Sam finds his identity in researching and figuring things out. And with her doing that, they both took it easy on those ends. Dean didn’t have to make burgers for everyone since Mrs. B made a roast. Sam didn’t have to research since she could tell them where the monsters were and what kind. I almost wonder if both of them were starting to feel like those parts of themselves were all of a sudden unnecessary. (Which makes me a little sad, because it reminds me a bit of the “two cakes��� concept in fandom. Who cares if someone else can “do it better”? If you do it, then there’ll be even more of the good thing!)  And as I observed above, Sam also stopped looking into HER. I mean, he didn’t even know what would kill a wood nymph. And I do think part of that also goes back to him having recently fallen back on letting Dean make the big decisions. Because last season so many of his blew up in his face. (Though I don’t think most of that was his fault. But Sam tends to blame himself for a lot.) And I do hope that maybe he’ll remember that he does have good instincts when he listens to them. And he can keep looking into something even if Dean thinks it’s fine. It’s not a betrayal to be prepared. 

ALSO! Being the absolute Saileen hoe that I am, even though we didn’t Eileen in this episode, I was thrilled that Sam went out on a date with her because she was in town! And true, we don’t know what all went down, but regardless, I see it as good that they’re at the very least still friends, and that hopefully Eileen is sorting out her own feelings vs whatever she might think could be Chuck’s manipulations. Even if Saileen isn’t Engame (and honestly, as much as I love it, I don’t think it will be) I would still like for them to be on good terms with each other. (And for her to NOT get fridged again!) 

Another thing I was pondering afterwards and a bit during: I wasn’t surprised that Sam held up to the torture fairly well. I mean, it still obviously hurt! (And again, WHY with the fingernails again?! As someone in one of my discord servers mentioned, we didn’t need THAT particular call-back to the Christmas Episode of Season 3!) But he was listening to what she was saying. And he understood the implications that she had been tortured into acting how they wanted her to act. And Sam understands torture, and how it can mess someone up. And despite what she had done to him, and was trying to still do, he validated what she had been through. He empathized with her. And that.... it’s just SO Sam! 

I will say that the resolution felt a little... abrupt. Like, her expression had changed a little during the fight/argument. Then back from the commercial break and she’s all packed-up and ready to leave and they’re all saying goodbye and wishing her well. I feel like there might have been some more scenes or parts of scenes that were originally there connecting things up more, but were cut for time.

I wouldn’t say this was a groundbreaking episode, but it WAS fun, and it did have some seriousness at it’s core, and I think it did what it needed to do. 

(And I apologize if this is just a big rambling mess. I’m not used to doing structured episode reviews. *LOL* Feedback and opinions are welcome though!) 

[popculturebuffet]

Loud House Reviews: Racing Hearts

Welcome back errbody. Continuing the Salauna trilogy with Racing Hearts. We’ve already seen the cute asking them out story , now comes the actual first date.. which ITSELF is massively important. Keep in mind even though Nick fully supported L is for Love and the crew put a lot of work into it given how good it turned out, Sam easily still could’ve vanished into Limbo. For it’s first 2 seasons loud house, the show HAD continuity: Once Ronnie Anne and Bobby moved away to set up their spinoff, there was an episode with Lincoln’s friends trying to help him deal with missing her in the first ep giving any of them  besides Clyde focus, a trend that would continue, they still showed up via video chat or in person where waranted and there was a full episode about Lincoln’s group of friends trying to help him deal with it... which also reminds me of a smiliar episode of ned’s declassified that was really damn good but unrelated to this... seriously that show is underated and I hope with the Netflix deal it shows up there.  Anywho back on the show we’re actually talking about, the show didn’t really have arcs, thigns that carried from episode to episode.. until Season 3. Season 3 is where the show REALLY hit it’s stride, with it now fully being an ensemble show and more continuity injected int, not interfering iwtht he show’s episodic nature but making it feel like events had meaning. Stella was introduced in “White Hare” and later got a full introduction that i’ll no doubt cover with “Be Stella My Heart” and afterwords rather than being forgotten entirely like the show used to do became part of his friend group in their episodes. Lynn SR. was revealed to have quit his office job to work at a restraunt and was working on opening his own, which while only a two episode arc, lead to the opening of Lynn’s table in the finale and it’s stuck around since. And Leni got a job at a clothing store she’s kept since and friends at said job who’ve shown up since.  See i’m fine with a show not having heavy duty continuity or serilzation, some shows thrive there but I love it when shows do this: even if it’s not all about plots, things progresing or being followed up on makes the show feel more vibrant and keeps it from stagnation in my book.  And as as show with a bunch of girls at dating age, it was invetivible theird’ be recurring romantic arcs, hence Chaz is mentoined as dating Leni, if not given any real focus so far hopefully that’ll change, while Luaan, in this episodes pairing brother, and most importantly Luna got followups on theres. And thus that brings us here to racing hearts,where nick earns the praise they got from l is for love by following up on it and showing in no uncertain terms the two as a blossoming couple.  I get to the actual episode under the cut:

We start with Lori being upset the bathroom is being taken up.... and that brings up a small issue I have: .. WHY IS THERE ONLY ONE BATHROOM FOR 10 KIDS. I do assume Lynn Sr and Rita have their own, and that it might be hard to put another one up there for plumbing reasons, but it still seems WEIRD to not have more than one up there or close to the stairs so that it dosen’t take 50 years for 10 children to get ready. And yes I said 10, Lily has a diaper and isn’t potty trained yet and any cleaning up or getting dressed, when needed, falls on Rita or Lynn Sr. But still it’s a LOT to ask for 10 children to share share one bathroom peacefully and it’s only through the power of not wanting to spend an animation budget on it that the bathroom isn’t a constant disaster area.  Anyways it’s actually Luna who, to her sister’s shock, is in a facemask getting ready to go to the Royal Woods Astonishing Quest with Sam for their first date. Naturally the other two are excited, and Luna, despite her usual nerves, is actually incredibly stoked and feels it’ll go perfectly. 

At any rate, she’s happy and Lynn comes in to kick everyone out to scrape off her callosuses instead of you know... having Lucy leave their room or doing it while she’s not there, butttt that little detail is actually a tell for later so fair play to you. Plus Lucy may just understandably find int gross and Lynn dosen’t trike me as good at picking up after herself. As it turns out to no one’s shock, Lynn was banned last year for being a sore winner and rightfully so as we see in flashback, but she’scome to terms with it... wink. But they agree to leave as the louds need to get over there anyway.  Cut to the ASTONISHING QUEST.. which turns out to be a scavenger hunt with admitely a great name. Seriously someone use that. But we see tons of returning charcters including Scootst, Pop Pop and his girlfriend, and... 

...........

I”d apologize for thatbut I feel that way any time I see the little weirners face. Be glad this dosen’t happen every time he shows up.  On the bright side he looks as dead inside as I do whenever I find out he’s in an episode, and Zack looks the same amount of dead inside.. probably because he realized a filing cabnet would’ve been a better partner. A review of your choice for the first person to get that reference and send it to me.  Thankfully my extesntial dread at seeing a Rusty cameo is lifted when Luna meets up with Sam and the two are awkard dorks together for a second as they figure out what greeting to do, settling on a handshake. It’s fucking precious. We then meet Royal Wood’s Mayor, voiced by Shirley! Now if she’d just show up on Ducktales already. Though hearing her reminds me I should do some Harvey Beaks reviews at some point... anyways, she announces the quest and Clyde and LIncoln make a fist bump while Lori and Leni stare down their parents like their about to start brawling in the streets then and there. What.. what have you guys done to each other over the years at these things? I want to know the history there. Have astonishing quest show up again in another season. I”d also love an Brooklyn Nine Nine style heist episode with this show .  Anyways, the rules are laid out: Each team is given an evelope with a clue, standard scavenger hunt contest stuff, and have challenges at each location to complete. The first team to finish wins the key to the city.. er a tiny trophy with you did it on it. Honestly that last one’s better anyway. Anyways after from trashtalk from Scoots and her partner Helen, who seems oddly familliar, we’re off! The first clue is easily figured out by Luna and the two old ladies quickly take advantage of Luna saying it loud where everyone can hear it by heading off: It’s off to Lazer Maze , the local Lazer Tag.  The guy there gives them their challenge: They need to get 500 points to get the next clue. Luna takes to it like a fish to water and easily tags Lisa and her friend Darcy... another nice little cameo. And it also shows something I like: not only are all the louds except Lynn, whose banned, and Lily, whose a baby, are competting on their own. And only Lori, who pops back up in a bit and Leni,whose partnered with her are plot relevant, but the episode easily could’ve left them out or used extras for the other teams but wisely decied to instead use characters we’re familiar with. It adds a nice touch that makes this feel like an actual event and make sme wish the show did more townwide events like this. Stars hollow it up. You have a fun character in the mayor, who was hilarious in her one minute here, you have your taylor. Just give her a quirky sidekick and have fun with it. Granted I want every series to have a little gilmore girls in it, but still.  Anyways Sam botches it and instead of shooting the golden girls shoots Luna by accient, though by the next cut they have their points, and the lazer tag guy encourages them anyway. Sam apologizes not being good at Laser tag but Luna happily shrugs it off: While she enjoys it it’s not for everyone. Anyways it’s Luna’s turn to be confused while Sam easily figures out the clue: IT’s off to the farm. And if you wanted the exact oppsite of my reaction to a Rusty cameo...

Yeah while my reactions to Rusty is “Why haven’t you died on the way to your home planet yet?” My reaction to Liam is pure joy. He’s like this generation’s stinky peterson and I love it and has a nice enjoyable personality instead of being my own personal Kahn.  Anyways LIam’s challenge is to get Eggs from the chickens. Which Sam does easily.. Luna however is nervous to start despite Sam’s reasssurances.. before totally freaking out. To be fair though, chickens can be downright terrifying. Just look at Poyo

. 

And why yes that is a chicken hell lordd whose also a cyborg  bisecting santac lause. And why no, you are’nt getting any more context than that, go read Chew.  Anyways theys till have enough eggs to complete the challenge, if now splattered in egg and with Liam disapointed with their shenanigans, but being a professinal about it. Total pro. Anyways, Sam is just as ready to brush it off as Luna, noting farms just aren’t for everyone. I also like this plot in general because while it has the series habit of “thing happens again and again and again then climax” it’s used to flesh sam out a bit. While she is there to be Luna’s love intrest, being a love intrest dosen’t mean a character can’t be good or fleshed out. Just look at tom from star vs the forces of evil for a good example of that.  Anyways it’s once again Luna’s turn to figure out the clue and we’re off to Werk It Dance studio.. I gurantee it was going to say twerk it but nick was like “oh honey no. “. The name is just awkward otherwise. Or maybe i’m just old. Also the twins are there. Just a nice thing to note and two characters I THINK are from an episode I haven’t watched yet but read about. Anyways, Luna’s pumped while sam has “oh crapbaskets” written all over her face and quickly does terribly. This one however is .. not as easy to brush of. Not liking going to farms or laser tag is easy, there just things not to do on dates. Not dancing.. is hard when your both musically inclined people whose taste in music is why you met in the first place. While they try to gloss over it, it’s clear this is an issue and worries them both.  Moving on you know the drill at this point: Sam gets the clue, Luna dosen’t, we’re off to rock climbing. Sam utterly loves it while Luna is terrified. Moving on We cut to Luna, whose sitting down feeling depressed, aka my natural state these days, when Lori and Leni show up. Lori even gave her a cute backpack for the quest.. that has a leash attached. I’d say it’s a bit extreme but i’m half convinced this happened at some point and is the reason Leni dosen’t wear laces. 

Luna is of course spiraling because it turns out she and Sam don’t have a lot in common. Lori however gives some really good advice: Turns out she and Bobby hit some of the same problems and she just suggest they both try embracing things the other person likes. Even if it dosen’t work, shocker given the episode is far from over yet, it’s not bad advice and I like that in relationsihp based episodes it’s Lori who tends to be the one helping out, having the most experince to deal with that and a, at least by this point early Lori could be a bit TOO asholish sometimes, really solid couple.  And if you read this before I apologize because for some reason Tumblr decided to EAT A THIRD OF MY REVIEW FORCING ME TO REWRITE IT. And yes i’m ranting a bit but in my defense I worked hard on this and to have most of it chewed up through no fault of my own pisses me off and thus I needed to rant a bit. Back to the review! So Luna tries Lori’s approach while Lori runs off to find Leni who got off the leash.. again. SHe’s probably just going to sniff some ground, eat the plants,she’ll be finnne Lori. Anyways Luna and Sam go to the local health smoothie shop, the kind of place that is my nightmare for people like me with Orangutan bods but makes sense Sam would be into, and the next challenge is identify what this smoothie is made of. I”ve played this game before: my guesses were fish bones,chicken bones, and dry bones.... seriously the glass was just purred bones. I never bought a smoothie from that guy again.. mostly because someone called the cops. There’s a lesson in that. Luna however spits hers out.  IN a break from formula the next activity is for Luna to come sail away, come sail away come sail away with Sam.. whose actually a pretty apt sailor. You can guess the rest. Luna botches it, they still get the clue, yadda yadda time for the sad part. The two have an honest discussion abotu the fact that despite chemstry being there, they seemingly have nothing but their music in common and are diffrent people, with Luna glumly resolving to finish the race as friends and neither being happy. WHelp my heart just broke, next episode.  So Mayor SHirley from Community greets the girls at the final challenge: A bake off... because apparently just being the first one there wasn’t good enough... then again i’ve seen far worse rule changes by a far smugger canadian man so i’ll let it slide. Thankfully the universe throws the two a bone: Neither can bake. What follows is a damn adorable scene: The two touch hands and blush over butter, before working in synch.. and Sam then procedes to cause their pie to explode in her face.. I could’ve phrased that better, but Luna giggles at it, Sam playfully tackles her giggling insues and the two end up on the ground, smiling at each other. Also Helen and Scoots win. Who cares. Luna realizes from this that she was an idiot to suggest giving up so soon, and proposes they simply try to find things they like together rather than focusing on their diffrences. Because as a coked out cat who sang a duet with a coked out Paula Abdul once said:  If things go wrong we make corrections, to keep things goin in the right directions, try to fight it but i’m telling you jack, it’s uselss opposites attract! By the way the show really dropped the ball not having Luna mention this song titles in one of her song refrence things she does this episode. Anyways the two decide to start dating and then hug. My heart.. it’s too full.  We end the episode on the reveal Helen is Lynn, a nice payoff for earlier as Lynn rides off on her elderly partner in crimes scooter into the sunset while Luna and Sam giggle and look on. Like any great love story. And we’re out.  Final Thoughts:  Okay second time around with this, and it’s a great ep. The repetition hurts it SLIGHTLY, but Sam and Luna’s chemistry helps the episode as does it’s terrific aseop: You don’t have to be exactly alike to love a person, or like the same things.. as long as you connect, and TRY to find things you both enjoy, you’ll be fine. The episodes also helped by plenty of nice little cameos, showing off the series new grasp on continuity, and Lori being Luna’s advisor and Lynn naturally being the douchey rival to them and everyone else. Overall a solid ep that was a natural step forward and set up a good status quo for Sam and Luna. The next ep dosen’t feel as natural a story step, but is still a nice one and the one that insipired me to take the leap and review these eps so join me next time as our faviorite couple bond with some cats and get into some scooby doo door shenanigans with “The Purrrfect Gig” Until then later days. 

[asherranceoftheheart]

My Housemate Might Be the Antichrist? - Drabble Series #1

Summary:   A series of little drabbles on the sitcom AU where Jack's a weird bastard who grew up with Anti as his only example of social manners, Chase Brody as the fussing mom friend and the only seal of the apocalypse, Stacy Anderson as an upcoming lawyer who has a tendency for violence and swindling other people, Anti who is Anti, and all the others who are watching the chaos that is that household and wondering how the fuck it hasn't collapsed yet. Character/s: Chase Brody, Antisepticeye, Stacy Anderson, Jack McLoughlin, mentions of the other egos Pairing/s: None, Chase Brody/Vacation/Advil Warning/s: None, Soft(?)Anti, Some Horror Cliches like blood on mirror but for comedic effect Genre/s: Humor, Fluff, Friendship Note: It would probably be easier to follow the entire thing if you read it from AO3 since it’d be in one link. But that’s up to you dear readers! (Archive Of Our Own Edition)

“So get this,” Jack didn’t even look up from his phone when his roommate burst into his room. “I think my room is haunted.”

“Dude we already talked about this,” Jack said with a flat tone that spoke of how many times they’ve talked about this exact topic. “I am not possessed. You are not possessed. None of us are possessed.”

“Tell that to the guy who looks like you but with green hair, completely black eyes, and a slit throat standing at the end of my bed at three in the morning while creepily smiling at me and I hear some unknown demonic language being whispered around me,” Chase whined and dropped his entire body on top of Jack’s stomach.

The older man grunted and half-heartedly shoved at the other who was now childishly pouting. Jack rolled his eyes at the pout and knocked his fist against Chase’s head lightly.

“You are exactly like a long lost annoying little brother,” Jack told his housemate dryly. “Besides, I told you. It’s just Anti, the whatever he is who’s been following me since childhood. He’s just playing a little sleep paralysis prank on you. That’s all.”

Chase turned his head to stare at him dubiously with those pretty baby blues and Jack couldn’t resist flicking him on his forehead. The younger man yelped and slapped his offending hand away with a glare while rubbing the reddening spot in the middle of his forehead sullenly.

“You say that as if it’s completely normal to have someone like Anti following you around.” Chase shot back while Jack shrugged nonchalantly because it is normal for him.

“Look on the bright side, Anti likes you. If he didn’t you’d have ran out of our shared room a long time ago when we were roommates for college.” Jack patted his head and ruffled his hair in a pacifying manner. Chase just sulkily slumped down on top of him and pressed his cheek against the soft cover of his bed.

“I thought you were pranking me and I was staying out of complete spite.” Chase bluntly said, looking him dead in the eyes.

Jack just patted his head like he was a cute little puppy.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

There was a weird guy wearing a cat mask and a cliché magician’s cape standing in front of their door. Jack had been playing Kingdom Hearts 3 in the living room when somebody rang the doorbell to their house. Originally, he was going to let Anti answer it for him but then he remembered Stacy’s threat about killing him in his sleep if they get another phone call about a possible serial killer in the house.

“Good afternoon sir,” at least the odd stranger seemed rather polite even though he kept staring at Anti who was looming behind him like an off-brand Slenderman. “I don’t know how to put this reasonably but… are you aware that an evil creature has been following you?”

Ah. This was one of those situations.

“We don’t accept solicitations,” Jack gave the man the friendly smile that he learned from Chase. 

Apparently, the smile that he grew up with after learning it from Anti belonged more to that of a horror movie’s villain.

Chase tried to bring it up gently to him by saying it’s rather unnerving while Stacy just outright said to his and Anti’s face that people would rather take the stairs than ride in the same elevator with him if he kept that creepy smile up.

As it is, he was already closing the door on the weird man’s shocked and outraged face. Hah. That one’s a pretty funny face. He could hear Anti snickering behind him.

“Wait—!” The man tried to stop him from closing the door but Jack was unrelenting.

“Sorry,” he apologized without a single shred of remorse or guilt in his entire existence.

The door was shut with a loud click. 

Jack flipped the lock for extra measure and briefly wondered if he had closed the backdoor.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Stacy emerged from her bedroom, her hair unkempt and flying all over the place, her eyes ringed with dark shadows from lack of sleep, and her body yearning for that sweet, delicious caffeine. The woman had been up all night for the past weeks reviewing for her law board exam in an almost panicked frenzy. If it hadn’t been for Chase occasionally forcing her to go the fuck to sleep, she was pretty sure she would’ve dropped dead by the first week of unending readings and memorizing that she had been doing. She could already smell that blessed nectar of the gods being brewed in the kitchen and she could hear Chase humming a cute lil song while no doubt shaking that bubble butt around while he’s cooking breakfast for all of them.

“Hey boys,” the sleepless woman grunted as she slipped into the dining room and sat down on the nearest seat. “How’re things going for you guys?”

“Anti threatened to kill me last night because I ate the last pack of cheetos.” Chase said as he exited the kitchen to place a mug full of that heavenly black as her soul coffee in front of her.

“Just add that to the millions of baseless threats that he’s given you for the past six years.” Stacy dismissed his words with a wave before she took a sip of that scalding coffee with a happy moan. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to live without your coffee, Chaser.”

Chase just patted her head as a wordless ‘you’re welcome’ before placing a breakfast plate in front of Jack whose face was completely smushed against the table while he’s completely passed out. He flicked his ear and smirked when the older man jolted up awake with a bewildered shine on his normally calm face before Jack realized that there was food in front of him.

“Rise and shine, Jackaboy,” Chase ruffled Jack’s hair, chuckling at the disgruntled grunt he received. “Good morning to you too, Creepy Bastard number one.”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Chase woke up to the sound of his alarm blaring through his room. He was half-tempted to push the snooze button but the consequences of having a cranky household—especially this household—is too much of a headache to even consider facing. He lazily rolled out of his bed, kicking away the blankets that were entangled around his limbs and landed on the floor with a soft thump.

The sleepy man fumbled for his way to his own bathroom and flicked the light on. He blinked at the red that covered his face mirror and sighed.

DON’T FORGET THAT YOU HAVE A 10 AM APPOINTMENT WITH YOUR THERAPIST TODAY.

“I promise I won’t Anti,” Chase mumbled as the bloody letters began to fade away now that its message has been delivered and understood. “Thanks for the daily reminders, buddy. I just wish you won’t do the blood schtick. Well, at least you clean them up yourself now. So great job on that!”

He knew that the creature was watching him and could feel the smug self-satisfied aura that was practically oozing out of the demon. Chase internally thanked all of the useful advice he read from all of the parenting books he bought from the bookstore that mentioned Positive Affirmation of good deeds is effective in helping the lessons stick. It took a few weeks of providing positive rewards such as giving Anti his favorite snacks, and giving him some leeways on the lighter chaotic actions for him to start making progress.

Who knew that parenting techniques are great at teaching ancient demons on how to be more civilized people?

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

Heart of Thunder - Chapter 05

It’s finally done! Sorry for the long wait.

Here’s the Link to AO3.

In which there are two awkward conversations.

Featuring: Cor catching the feels, Monica's exasperation, Regis being a good friend, Nyx being very nervous about all of this and the author's lack of restraint when it comes to worldbuilding.

List of words in Hadnissa:

Galahkari = people of Galahd kohna = swearword; along the lines of shit

Cor was tired. People wouldn't know by looking at him, he still wore the same serious frown he always did and there were no dark circles around his eyes to be seen. The only way people would know that Cor had spent the majority of the night either staring into the darkness of his bedroom or a cooling cup of tea was, if they knew him well enough to know his tells.

Those people would look at the way he had arrived at his office hours before he was supposed to, at the way he hoarded any cup of coffee he could get his hands on and how he would carefully refrain from snapping at the people around him. They would maybe offer him a fresh cup, shove packets of nuts and maybe a banana or two into his hands and then execute a strategic retreat.

Mostly he suffered sleepless nights due to nightmares, which Cor had plenty reasons to have. He had been dumb and reckless as a teenager and the trouble he had gotten himself into had often times been more than he had been able to swallow. Not that he had admitted that back then. Pitioss, he still had trouble today doing it with people he trusted explicitly.

Last night however, it hadn't been the nightmares keeping him up. It hadn't been the face of the first person he killed when he had been thirteen and Mors had found him, nor the countless dead he had been forced to assassinate for the dead king afterwards, or the absolute panic he had felt when he had first laid eyes on the hazy form of Gilgamesh. On the very bad days the hollow rasp of the ancient... being's voice followed him into his waking moments even so many years after it had happened.

No, last night hadn't been that.

Instead, what had kept him up had been the thought of his new fiancée. And even after a sleepless night and his third cup of coffee, he still had no real idea what he was supposed to do now.

Cor leant back into his comfy leather chair and stared at the bag of sunflower seeds Monica had left with a small stack of files on his desk not too long ago. He needed to get back to work, he knew that. A war didn't fight itself and there was a whole lot more paperwork involved than he had expected, when he had first been named Marshal.

Now he sat there, his eyes shifting from the files towards his latest cup of coffee despite the urgency he felt to get the work done.

With a sigh he leaned forward and unlocked the most private drawer of his desk. Normally he stored some of the more sensitive files he was working on in there, which consisted mostly of mission reports and the most recent information his network had sent him. Right now Cor wasn't interested in any of those. It was still well before the regular workday was supposed to start, so he still had some time.

On top of the small pile lay the personal file of one Nyx Ulric.

He had gone to retrieve it so early this morning that the secretary hadn't been there yet, the night guard had gone to take a smoke break – he was going to have words with the man – and he knew the access logs were rarely checked. Which was another worrying slip in security, but worked in his favour in this instance.

The filing room had been an organisational mess. Nothing had been misfiled exactly, but it had taken him longer to locate the file he wanted, than he was comfortable with. Back in his office he had put it in his most protected drawer and had tried to do some actual work.

Cor caught himself staring at it every few minutes.

With an exasperated sigh, and slightly irritated at himself, he put the folder on the desk in front of him. It sat there, innocently, its slightly yellow pages worn down further than he had expected. He scowled.

Cor knew this was probably not his best idea. In fact, a quiet voice in the back of his mind that sounded suspiciously like Clarus, continuously warned him against doing this. But he needed to know more about the man he would bind himself to – had already bound himself to. So he ignored his inner Clarus and opened the file.

The first thing he noticed was the slightly younger Nyx staring back at him. There were shadows in his eyes that shone through the threadbare mask of professionalism and told him of an inner rage he hadn't seen in the older Nyx. Maybe he was just better at hiding it now. Cor had no illusion of all of that pent up anger being gone.

The younger Nyx' hair was bound into a tail, the sides not yet cut short, with his braids hanging free. Otherwise he looked much the same.

On the next page was information Cor was more interested in at the moment.

A knock on his door made him look up.

“Marshal,” sounded Monica's voice as the door opened, “these just came in from the Border Patrol.”

His Lieutenant stepped into his office, another folder in her hand. She strode up to his desk without further ceremony and stopped in astonishment as her gaze fell upon the untouched stack she had left there half an hour ago.

“Marshal?” she asked, worry shining in her eyes.

Cor shook his head as a signal for her to leave it be. And normally she would have, he knew, but then she saw the file that lay open before him. An eyebrow rose in disbelief.

“Why do you have the personal file of a Kingsglaive on your desk, Marshal?” Monica hesitated for a split second before her face set into that expression she made when she was about to hunt down some security leaks. “Is there something I need to know?”

For a split second Cor wished there was a convenient MT near so he could cut it down with all due prejudice. Nyx – his fiancée – wasn't the leak they had tried to track for years now. The man was one of the most loyal soldiers he had ever met, and since he knew Clarus Amicitia that was saying something.

He shook his head. “No,” he said. “This isn't about the leak.”

“Then what? Marshal, unauthorized access to personal files of people not directly under your command can get even you in very deep trouble. Please tell me you didn't leave any evidence.”

Raising an eyebrow at his Lieutenant with a deadpan stare, he closed Nyx' file and watched as she sighed and sat down on the couch by the wall. Suddenly he got the feeling that this hadn't been a very good idea.

“Why did you pull the file?” asked Monica and managed to sound in equal parts exasperated and resigned.

Cor opened his mouth to answer and stopped. How was he supposed to tell her when he himself didn't really understand what had happened? He looked at her. She looked back. Monica Elshett was one of the few people he trusted absolutely.

“What do you know about Galahdian culture?” he asked at last.

Monica blinked, startled at the sudden question that seemed completely unrelated. She furrowed her brow as she started to seriously think about the question.

“Not very much, to be honest,” she admitted hesitantly. “It's all very basic knowledge. They have their own religion, as far as I can tell they don't deny the existence of the Six but refuse to acknowledge any authority they have. It's a magic flask waiting to blow, especially with the Bladed Temple. They organize in clans, have their own language and braids are important. But I cannot tell the significance or how it is decided who wears which braid. They are very insular and secretive over their culture in general.” She paused for a second. “What did you do?”

Cor didn't snort. No, he didn't. Why did everybody always think he did something?

“Do you remember the patrol I went on?”

“The poachers, yes,” she answered. “You claimed some of the skins as battle-spoils. Lords Hypocris, Caulis and Sagitta weren't happy about it.”

At the reminder of the three Lords he'd had to talk to yesterday, his mood soured. Cor knew there was something going on. He doubted it had anything to do with the leak in the military he had been tasked with hunting down, but corruption was corruption, and it happening so blatantly on his home turf was unacceptable. He made a mental note to look further into them over the coming days.

“Yes,” he hummed at last. “For the Galahkari – which is what Galahdians call themselves – coeurls are very close to holy animals, as far as I can tell. Last year there was a mission I was on with three of the Glaives, Bellum, Arra and Najad. There was a Niff patrol, bigger than had been anticipated, and we had two injured Crownsguard with us. They were gaining on us so we hunkered down in a forest to wait until they gave up the search. The patrol came upon a den that was home to a small pack of coeurls not far from us and the Glaive abandoned their cover to defend them. It was one of the stupidest things I have ever seen.”

Monica cast him a dry look at his last sentence, which Cor soundly ignored.

“Coeurls are important to their culture,” he continued. “So when I found coeurl skins among the poachers' prey, I thought it a good idea to lay claim on them and gift them to the Galahkari as a gesture of goodwill.”

“So that is why those three Lords wanted to speak to you. A single coeurl skin can be worth hundreds of thousands of Yen,” realized Monica.

“I selected the biggest and went to the Kingsglaive headquarters to give it to Nyx Ulric, explaining that the others would follow as soon as the investigation was closed.”

“Sir Ulric?” Monica asked surprised. “Why not Titus? He is their Captain and also half Galahdian himself. He knows the culture better than any of us.”

“True,” nodded Cor and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “But after the incident last year I heard Najad tell the Bellum and Arra that Sir Ulric would have any right to murder them, if they had let the coeurls die without trying to rescue them.”

What he didn't want to tell her was that he had wanted to give it to Titus at first, but he hadn't been able to find the man anywhere. Nor did he tell her that the pelt with its size and colouring was probably scratching the one million Yen mark when it came to worth. His Lieutenant made a disbelieving face but didn't say anything. Cor took a sip of his now cold coffee with a straight face.

“So you made Sir Ulric a ridiculously expensive gift in the hope to bridge some of the divide between the citizens and them. I'm assuming the file on your desk is his?”

The Marshal nodded.

Monica sighed. “This still doesn't explain why, Marshal.”

“We're engaged,” Cor not quite mumbled, but it was close. He wasn't embarrassed talking about this. He wasn't. But there was a strange pressure in his chest as he admitted his new status to his Lieutenant.

For a few long seconds everything was silent in the office as Monica stared at him with a blank expression.

���Marshal – Cor,” she started, each word carefully enunciated, as if she was afraid to have forgotten how to, “I must have misheard. Did I just hear you tell me you got engaged?”

He nodded.

“You weren't in a relationship yesterday.”

It was half a question and half a statement. He nodded again. Utterly exasperated his only close female friend pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

“How?” she asked into her hand with a tone edging on desperation. Before Cor could answer she continued. “No, forget the how. Why did you think it was a good idea to get engaged to a man as controversial as Nyx Ulric? If the success rate of his missions wasn't as high as it is and his magic compatibility so far above average it's not even funny, he would have been dishonourably discharged more than once already. Some of the stunts he pulled border on insubordination.”

Cor bit back the first comment burning on his tongue. Of course he knew what people were saying about the man. It was mostly the nobility at court wagging their tongues, but sometimes the press got wind of it. Cor himself had seen some of the mission reports. What Nyx mostly got accused of was the refusal to obey orders. Most of those orders involved leaving people behind or something similar. If he were honest, he wouldn't have followed those orders either. They were absolutely dumb. He had to wonder however when the rumours had grown so out of hand that even Monica seemed to believe some of them.

“I gave Nyx the coeurl skin in front of people he considers his family and in Galahdian culture that's enough for it to be considered a proposal,” he explained.

“I don't understand. And Sir Ulric accepted? Does something like this even count when you didn't to it with the intention to propose?”

She was absolutely baffled. He couldn't blame her.

“As far as I understand it, he couldn't say no without there being serious cultural repercussions. We agreed to go through with it.”

“And that's why you pulled his file?”

He didn't answer, feeling oddly guilty about it all of the sudden.

Monica sighed again. “That's not how you get to know your spouse, Marshal. That's what dates are for. Take Sir Ulric out to a nice restaurant, go see a play, Pitioss, take him out to kill some daemons for all I care, but by Bahamut's bladed wings, talk to him. This,” she gestured towards where the file laid on his desk, “is not how you built trust with the person you intend to marry.”

Cor listened seriously to every word she had to say, and nodded. What she said was logical. Getting to know his fiancée would take time, but it would be time well spent. Hmm, hunting daemons sounded like a very good idea, actually. There was a new nest in Leide that was encroaching on the bridge connecting Insomnia with the rest of Lucis.

When she saw him nod, Monica's shoulders sagged a bit in relief. He raised a brow as he watched her stand up from the couch and walk towards his desk in two long strides. She set the folder she still carried down on the stack she had brought earlier and plucked up Nyx' file with a determined face.

“Good. I'll put this back and make sure no one will ever find out about this. Please try to do some work done. Oh, and I better be invited to the wedding, Marshal.” With that she turned around and left his office muttering something under her breath he couldn't understand.

Well, he thought as he stared after her bemusedly, that was that.

The hours until his lunch break Cor spent reading file after file and signing more papers than he cared to count. Progress was slower than he might have liked, but he managed to go through with most of it and had decided it wouldn't hurt to get an hour or two of training in after lunch. He desperately needed to clear his head.

Maybe he could make a date out of an afternoon training with Nyx? After all, it was perfectly normal to do activities with your spouse you both were interested in, right? That's what dating was supposed to be about.

There was a knock on his door just as he set his signature beneath a form requesting the use of a Kingsglaive training ground. The word 'denied' was stamped in big, bold, red letters on top of the page. This wasn't the first time he had seen a request like this and it made no sense at all to him. The Crownsguard had enough space to train in. Most of those spaces were better equipped than the Glaives training grounds, too. Much to his ire.

“Come in,” he called and set the form aside.

The door opened and in stepped the person that had occupied the majority of his thoughts since they had went their separate ways yesterday, with a nervous grin on his face and still in his training uniform.

“Nyx,” said Cor in way of greeting.

“Hey,” greeted his fiancée and closed the door behind him.

Curiously he glanced around the office as he walked towards him. It was a larger room than Cor needed with enough space to fit at least two other large desks into it, but Regis had insisted. Something about status and publicity or some such rot. What had made him accept the office in the end had been his friend's pleading face when he had suggested it, after he had been promoted to Marshal.

Nyx was halfway around the desk when Cor remembered the Galahdian way to greet family and stood up. A bout of nervousness shot through his system. Their foreheads met gently and Nyx' nervous grin turned into a barely there blush and a pleased smile. Cor could feel the corner of his mouth tick up into a tiny smile of his own. His stomach lurched and a comfortable warmth spread in his chest. It was strange. He usually didn't like to be touched all that much. They took half a step back from each other a heartbeat later.

Cor cleared his throat to avoid the awkward silence looming above their heads. “Why did you come here?”

“Shouldn't I have?” asked the younger man, his head tilted towards the left like a curious cat and his tone abashed.

“No, no,” Cor hurried to say. “I have nothing against it. I just did not expect you to come.”

By Bahamut's scaly hide, this wasn't a great start at all. He wanted to kick himself. Why was it so damned hard to talk to this man? Nyx gave an awkward smile and tugged at one of his braids. It was a normally braided one with another strand of hair twisted around it. There were three beads in it in different colours and forms, all looked like precious or semi-precious stones. He wondered what significance there was to it.

“I came to ask something,” Nyx started and tugged at his braid again. It was clearly a nervous habit.

“Yes?” prompted Cor after a few seconds of silence.

“How fast can you get an audience with the King?” the Glaive rushed to ask.

Surprised, Cor raised an eyebrow. “At once, if it's an emergency. Did something happen?”

His fiancée shook his head, clearly searching for the right words and Cor was contend to let him. This was clearly important to him, so Cor had no desire to rush this.

“It's a culture thing, I think,” Nyx said at last. “I don't know how you Lucians do it but since you proposed to me in the tradition of my people I need to give you a, hmm, Gift of Acceptance – I guess would be the correct translation.”

Aha.

“What do you need the audience for, then?”

“That's the thing. When I give my gift to you, there need to be witnesses. It has to be family.”

“I don't have living family left,” Cor said with a frown and a smidge of worry.

Nyx blinked, clearly confused. “But you have family,” he stated like it was the most obvious thing.

Cor felt like he was missing something. “My parents have been dead for a very long time. I don't have siblings and neither had they.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Nyx. “No, family doesn't mean there has to be a blood relation. It's the people you are closest to.” He muttered something in the foreign language the Galahkari had, clearly searching for words. “Those you have hunted and fought besides. Those you have survived great odds with, that walked beside you and never abandoned you.”

At once he realized why Nyx had asked how fast he could get an audience. He felt kind of ridiculous that he hadn't realized himself what the other had been trying to say. It was so obvious in hindsight.

“You want to do it in front of Regis and Clarus,” he said and had to admire the other man's guts.

Nyx nodded. A determination shone in his blue eyes that set Cor's heart aflutter.

“When?”

“What?”

“When do you need the audience? And do I need to know something concerning this gift giving?” he added.

“Oh. Before the week is over would be best. Shortly after lunch break. I need to bring witnesses myself since your family isn't Galahdian and we need at last one other Galahkar to verify that you accepted the gift. It's more of a formality than anything else, but better safe than sorry. You don't need to do much, there aren't any traditional words or anything. Those fell out of practice ages ago. You just need to accept it and wear it,” Nyx explained.

“Wear it,” Cor asked, crossing his arms.

“Yeah,” said Nyx and lifted his hand as if to touch him, but let it fall to his side again. “Normally I would braid your hair, but that isn't going to work.” No it really wasn't. “The alternative is a necklace. The Gift of Acceptance can honestly be anything, but after the Gift of Declaration you gave me that's really the only answer I can give.”

So there was something very significant about that necklace. Cor was nearly afraid to ask. “Is there something special about this necklace?”

Another tug at the braid. “It's... ah, kohna. It's the most significant way we have to declare something. Way back, before my people settled on Galahd, we used braids as a means of communication. We still do, but then it literally was vital to our survival. It's how the different wandering groups warned each other of danger and passed news along when they weren't able to talk due to the high scrutiny of the Lucians. With the necklace, that's simply a substitute to a braid, I'm basically declaring you one of us.”

Which must be a huge fucking deal considering how insular the Galahkari as a people were. He couldn't help the feeling of fascination bubbling within him. Nyx talked about an era the historians knew practically nothing about with an ease and so matter of fact it was astounding.

“I take it doesn't happen often,” he stated despite everything else he wanted to ask. One thing at a time. If he understood his fiancée correctly, he had enough time to ask after the history records later.

A snort was his answer. “Try maybe once or twice since Galahd was founded. It's rare for a Galahkar to show romantic interest in an outsider and it's even rarer for the outsider to reciprocate those feelings. We're nothing but a bunch of faithless heathens, after all.”

There was something about the way he said it that made Cor's hair stand on end, that didn't sit right with him. He suppressed the urge to snarl and marched to the other side of the desk where his phone lay. Beneath Nyx' curious gaze he picked it up and hit the speed dial. It rang once, twice.

“Cor? Is everything alright?” sounded Regis' voice over the speaker.

“Regis, I need a favour,” he said and watched as his fiancée's eyes grew impossibly wide.

“Of course. What do you need?” the King agreed easily.

“Can you and Clarus spare some time later today? There is something I have to do that requires your attendance.”

“My next meeting is in an hour. Cor, what do you need to do that requires both me and Clarus there?” Regis sounded utterly baffled.

“You'll see,” he said, fighting to keep the laughter down. “It's very personal and important to me.”

The sound of rustling cloth and movement could be heard. “Let me fetch Clarus and we can be at your office in half an hour. Or would you prefer one of the private meeting rooms?”

“A private meeting room,” answered Cor after a moment of consideration. “And thank you, your Majesty.”

“It's always a pleasure to help a friend. Room 1-1 should be free for us to use,” the King said, a smile sounding in his voice.

Cor hung up and redirected his attention back towards Nyx, who was still staring at him, one hand braced on the desk.

“His Majesty will see us in half an hour in meeting room 1-1,” Cor stated.

Nyx yelped. “Half an hour?”

“Yes.”

That's all Cor could say as he watched his fiancée bolt for the door. Before he reached it however, he paused and strode back towards him.

“Idiot,” he murmured just loud enough for Cor to hear, fondness lacing his voice, as their foreheads touched for barely a second. Then he was gone.

Your idiot, Cor thought but couldn't bring himself to say. Even to an empty room.