#definitely does not hit dead on some very specific 'hi that scarred me for life and i don't think it's particularly fucking funny' buttons!

[thecottageinthedark]

#sdmi#scooby doo mystery incorporated#velma dinkley#shaggy rogers#SDMItag#cws in post#sdmi velma lies at the intersection of A Lot of Hard Feelings for me; in ways both inherent and personal#so she is viscerally upsetting to me in a lot of ways mostly re: framing; and that makes it difficult to analyze her in a sympathetic light#even though i recognize she is very much a depiction of a hurting; traumatized person lashing out in nasty and interesting ways#but the older i get and the more perspective i gain; and the more i unpack and understand about my own experiences#the more important it feels to me to talk about this stuff#i still want to try writing fic sometime about newniverse velma and how she ends up being a non-abusive; less shitty person#without just *being* a completely different person who's All Nice Sweet Sunshine with No Hard Feelings About What She's Been Through#and about the confusion and grief newniverse marcie goes through when one day her loving girlfriend is gone#and in her place is someone who is so much like her and has clearly been through a lot; but is Different in ways that hurt more and more#that marcie keeps trying to justify and make excuses for; and sits in the pot and slowly boils#until she finally has to face that this isn't the girl she fell in love with; that that girl will never come back; that this is velma now#i'm totally not working through anything here lmao#and a nasty; pretentious; controlling; insecure young adult who's up their own ass about Being Super Intellectual and Telling It Like Is#abusing a teenager to make them stop saying 'like' because it's Annoying and What Stupid People Say and Not Gramatically Correct(tm)(tm)(tm#definitely does not hit dead on some very specific 'hi that scarred me for life and i don't think it's particularly fucking funny' buttons!#anyway. protect shaggy and marcie and daphne while we're at it#SDMIcrit tag#the crit files

i think one of the things that upsets me the most about velma and shaggy's relationship in sdmi--and boy there is a lot--is that not only is her constantly ''correcting'' him for minor, harmless, and usually completely reasonable things with physical and emotional abuse, well. abusive by itself. but so many of the things he does that she treats him that way over are very autistic things, and what she subjects him to is textbook abuse aimed at autistics in particular. (including the part where she gets more and more pissed whenever attempts at said emotional abuse fly over his head, because he's too bad at picking up cues for them to land fully.)

[cws: anti-autistic ableism, ABA, self-harm, physical and emotional IPV, victim-blaming, and abuse apologism. it's a lot and it's really fucking bad lmao]

-

like. there's a lot of examples there; shaggy's behavior coming across as autistic is worth a whole post of its own, and a lot of media depicts abuse targeted at autistic traits because ✨️hooray ableism.✨️but she straight up tries to Fix Him (read: force him to perform a Presentable Personality) by forcing him to wear clothes that are sensory hell, and trying to condition him to self-harm every time he does some small harmless, reflexive thing she thinks is Poor Socialization until he stops. and to catch himself doing it, and punish himself, without being prompted. i cannot fucking overstate how fucked up that is.

they even got down the fun little aspect of ABA where the methods of conditioning-through-pain are presented as toys and kiddish things: she gives him a rubber band to wear on his wrist, and tells him to snap it as hard as he can every time he says 'like.' 🙃🙃🙃🙃

like. this does not begin to scratch the surface of the abuse she puts him through in general. and again, characters being abused for autistic traits with the approval of the narrative is a common thing in media, which sucks. but holy fucking shit! they really took the 'violent ableism that is done to autistics irl' to the next fucking level here!

.......and it's portrayed as kind of cringey, immature teen drama on both sides. the self-harm, his dread over how much he knows it'll hurt, and the extreme pain it causes him to the point of screaming are all supposed to be funny. and her arc is all about learning to accept that she deserves better, because she was repressed and had low self-esteem and therefore putting him through fucking DIY ABA didn't make her happy.

🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃

anyway if you couldn't tell i can't fucking stand sdmi velma and i have a lot of words in me about it. when one of your main heroes would have made a way more compelling villain as they are, on a more mundane level compared to all the wild fantastical shit they go up against, holy shit go back to the drawing board you have fucked up. she could have been genuinely good representation of a marginalized person dealing with the trauma of her experiences in some shitty ways she has to grow past, and an interesting flawed character, without being absolutely despicable--hell, she'd have made a great foil to pericles if they'd handled him decently too. they have a lot of parallels, which only gain more depth when you add their respective parallels with cassidy into the mix. and it really fucking sucks that we got this instead.

[quirklessidiot]

Title: first meetings [ii. the small pink-haired boy] Genre: just angst, drama, romance, historical fiction Pairing: Sorcerer!Sukuna x gn!sorcerer!reader (heian era; pre-curse sukuna)

Synopsis: in which you befriend the slave boy you’re supposed to spy on.

Warnings: not canon stuff, future dark themes,, smoll manga spoilers, slavery, whipping, mentions of rape, language and violence Notes: im kinda back i guess skksks also these are pretty much random au’s of my own take of sukuna’s back story uwu, theyre arranged in no particular order and you can read them in any order. This started out as a random one shot and i couldnt get it out of my head lol ksksksks, def not canon btw but it is canon that sukuna used to be an all powerful sorcerer before he turned to the dark side or smthng.

lil dictionary: non-person-  usually what they called slaves during the heian era.

masterlist [for other parts] ;; taglist 

“That’s beautiful.”

Contrasting to your rather clean and prestigious appearance, the young boy was dressed in rags and had dirt painted on his face. You could tell by his uncommon red eyes that he didn’t want you here nor did he even want to be associated with you.

“...the boy is rather prideful.” your otosan recounted a few nights before, you’d usually have conversations like this since you were quite close with him and he did like to confide you with these things,“but he has spirit, he’d be good for a ward.”

“What are you doing here?” He spat, being a part of and the sole heir of your family meant you were also treated with dignity and respect, it seemed like this boy wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone, this made you grin wildly much to his disdain, “Oi, stop grinning like that. You’re creeping me the fuck out.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“And I don’t care.” 

“Has anyone told you that you’ve got quite the temper?”

“Well, has anyone told you that you’re being an annoying bitch?” he bit back, five minutes into your first meeting, this strange boy seemed to want to get furthest away from you. He seemed to be rather ignorant to his overflowing cursed energy, your father was right, this boy was definitely no joke. 

“That’s sad.” You pouted, “All I wanted to say was how beautiful that Kimono is.”

“I was at a store, looking for some clothes that best suited you when I saw a young boy of your age…” your otosan narrated, “Who had a rather high cursed energy, he seemed unaware with it. He works as an errand boy, I believe, he carries heavy clothes and silk… His looks are hard to miss Y/N, so I’m sure you won’t miss him...try to talk to him…”

The boy looks up to you, completely annoyed, “Well, you said it. Now fuck off, yeah?”

You chose to ignore him and just bend down to his level, you had no training for today so you might as well join the boy for a moment since you had time to kill, “You know, if you keep keeping that attitude up, you might scare the customers away.” you mumbled, loud enough for him to hear.

“Yeah?” he clicked his tongue, “Looks to me that you aren’t even here to buy anything.”

“He seemed rather…” Your otosan described, “perplexed...so you might as well go in my stead…”

“Ah.” your grin doesn’t seem to fade despite his rather rough way of speaking, “You just seemed around my age so I got interested.”

“No shit, now buzz off. I got no time for kids like you.”

He talks as if he was older than you, it’s no surprise. Boys like him tend to think they know quite a lot.

“Do you wish to tell me your name now?”

He was silent for a moment.

That’s when realization dawned upon you, why he seemed perplexed around your otosan, why he thinks you were an annoying buzz, and why he couldn’t reply when you asked for his name. You feel yourself inwardly cringe at your mistake, it seems like the boy your father took interest in is a slave with no name, “Twenty.” he mumbles, shrugging nonchalantly.

“What?”

“They call me twenty.” he recounts, his voice is still rough around the edges, remaining uncensored by his identity.

“Right…” you tilt your head, “Twenty…”

“You’ve got silks to bring to the next town, boy!” a loud voice calls out, cutting you short, making the pink-haired boy put the pretty kimono down and back for display. Without even sparing you a glance or a word, he retreats to the back and you’re left squatting there alone. You watch him from behind, specifically at the bandages that peeked through his wrists.

The boy had piqued your interest to the point that you made it your weekly agenda to visit him and a-some-nights agenda to watch over him. He still ignores you and seems to be annoyed by you every time but he doesn’t seem to be doing anything about it so you just sit there. 

You were also still in awe by how much raw energy he possessed, you’d ask your otosan if he knew any sorcerers with lost children because it surely seemed as if this boy wasn’t ordinary.

“Just keep an eye on him,” was all your father said as you watch the boy close up shop late at night from on top of a roof, “He might make a great sorcerer and shift the tides.”

Your otosan was not one for gambling on people but it seemed like he made a large bet on this boy. 

As usual, you’re watching over him close up. It’s late and the owner of the place walks out, a pipe on his lips. Right then and there, he slaps the pink-haired teenager right at the face, “You should’ve joined the customer awhile ago in the dressing room, boy.” he growls, “It would’ve been quick…”

You feel the negative energy emit stronger than ever and your grip on your knife is tight, “Don’t get involved, Y/N.” your otosan’s warning echoes in your head, yes your otosan may have been interested in him but he was never one to dwell in human affairs, saying they were annoying and a mess to clean up.

“...It seems like the lesson a few nights ago wasn’t enough.” you snap back to reality and watch his boss stretch out a whip with its pointy ends and you feel your blood run cold. 

‘Don’t get involved-’

You ignore your otosan’s words in your head and throw a stone right at a nearby sign, resulting in a booming clang, making the cat nearby yelp outloud. The pink-haired boy jumps on the spot and so does the older man at the sound.

“Ah fucking-” the older man curses, tucking the whip back in, “No food for you for three days. Know your fucking worth, non-person.”

Your grip on your nodachi lessens as you let out a sigh of relief, whatever legal terms your father must be talking about needs to be done quickly.

On the next day, you’re on your way to visit him again. Carrying the bento box that you know he’ll refuse again because of his ‘pride’ yet you stop dead on your tracks when you find his owner and an older man talking, Sukuna seems to be standing behind them, looking quite uncomfortable.

It didn’t take two and two to guess what was going on, the amount of cursed energy leaking on him was strong so you could only guess this was the man who wanted to get his way on him yesterday. Your nose crinkles in absolute disgust, “Don’t get involved-”

Once again, you ignore your otosan’s words.

“Hey!” You call out, you see his red eyes widen, “What are you doing?”

The older man frowns at your sudden appearance, “None of your business brat. Now go home-”

“I said,” You repeated, your voice dangerously low, “What are you doing to him?”

“He’s a non-person, kid.” his ‘owner’ growls, you notice his hands dangerously close to his whip, “A fucking slave in simpler terms, now get the fuck out before I beat him and you.”

“You don’t scare me.” Your eyes are narrowed, truthfully, no one ever scares you. You were the heir of your clan. It was to be expected and drilled since your curse energy manifested when you were five that fear would come last, “Now unhand the boy.”

“This bitch-”

“Now, now.” The other man smiles, cutting the pink-haired boy’s ‘owner’ off,  “Maybe I can take that young child with me too. After all, they seem to be good friends. Two is better than one…”

You watch the other older man snake an arm on the young boy’s shoulder and you could feel the fear leaking out, it was harder to mask and hide now. 

“Is it alright to put a little scar on’em? So that they’d know-” He gets ready to take out the whip while your fists are clenched, this would be easy. You could get away with this later, at least you’d take the boy away from this place and help him control his energy after. 

Yet before you’re able to land a blow, the pink-haired boy yells at you to move as his ‘owner’ takes out a whip to whip you.

For someone who didn’t seem to like your presence, he was rather quick to defend you, having his face get hit in the process by the sharp whip. Your eyes widen in surprise, “Ah, shit… Y/N, run!” he yells but you’re staring at his very bloody face.

It would obviously leave marks like the wrists and who knows which parts since he was always covered by that very loose raggedy kimono.

You clench your fists tightly and look up from his blood features, the ‘owner’ stops on his tracks when he meets your very cold gaze, “Do you know who you just messed with?” you asked, “You really think I won’t tell my otosan that you planned to make me your prostitute?”

“Y-Y/N, jesus christ just fucking run-” he tried to stutter out, any evidence of the prideful and strong boy who tried to shoo you away was now gone.

Yet like the stubborn child you are, you ignore him and instead take out your family seal and drop it in front of them, ignoring the pink-haired boy’s plea’s and watching the two men in front of you turn white as a ghost as they see the nameplate, “My name is Ryomen Y/N.” You stated, voice loud and clear, “And you better hope that I’ll let you out here dead or me and my otosan will hunt you down for the rest of your life.”

taglist [if your name is crossed out, i cant tag you!] @shinhiromi ;; @hcn421 ;; @airybnb ;; @coldbookworm ;; @kristineyoshaii ;; @frankenstein852​

@iguessimastannnow

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

time travel aus, amirite? since we’ve all decided to start talking about our ideas, i thought i’d throw my hat into the ring. i’ve actually had this idea for a while, i just wasn’t sure what to do with it because i barely have the patience for one-shots, let alone the continuous plotted longfic this would need

it’s not my idea, of course, i’m incapable of original thought. it’s based off this can-i-really-call-it-a-genre-if-it’s-two-fics-with-the-same-premise where some combination of maedhros, maglor, elros, and elrond land in the blessed realm before - even the unchaining, in my take, when the ambarussa are still children and the world is blissful. it’s more specifically my take on this fic, which takes elrond and elros from very early in their captivity and maedhros from just before the silmaril theft and maglor from several centuries into the second age. i just plugged my own characterisations into it, and, uh. the specific setup this not-genre uses is that maitimo and makalaurë *~mysteriously disappear,~* throwing their extended family into chaos, blah blah blah, and then a few decades later -

well. with my characterisations, we have a nightmare hellbeast who’s burned up everything he used to be in singular pursuit of an unreachable goal and has carved his very self into a weapon, a completely drained beaten-up husk barely cognisant of reality past the screaming in his mind who’s so utterly broken it’s debatable if he even counts as an elda, and two extremely young extremely traumatised children in a completely unfamiliar land- and skyscape whose only adult they can maybe-kind-of trust is currently bleeding from the eyes and shrieking wordless notes of utter despair

yeah, this au’s Fun. elrond and elros have maybe eight words of quenya between them, most of which are obscene, maedhros will act completely normal until he suddenly stabs himself in the arm because can’t this stupid hallucination end already, he has a character arc to tank, and maglor seems completely unaware he’s not still on the beach having the same cyclic arguments with the ghosts of the people he failed. the elves of valinor aren’t completely unprepared to deal with this, at least not the ones who remember cuiviénen, but it’s still a massive shock to see two of the children they came to the land of the gods to protect twisted and scarred like the worst victims of the dark. especially since noone can figure out why

so yeah. i have trouble finishing oneshot collections, so i doubt i’ll ever write this out in full, but i do have a lot of Scenes. fëanáro staring in utter horror at the oath, whispering ‘i made this.’ elros and elrond’s somewhat hole-filled explanation of their backstory devolving into a sindarin argument, and when the family asks tyelkormo what they’re talking about he freezes before saying ‘they’re arguing about whether maitimo killed their mother.’ the moment maglor finally managed to get through what happened after they got the silmarils to maedhros, who immediately switches from off-the-cuff self-harm to well-planned suicide attempts. the five-minute period the family hellspawn’s working theory was ‘they’re maitimo and makalaurë from an alternate universe where we’re evil’ (‘is there an evil version of me??? does he eat kids???????’ - tyelko) finwë going full bulldoze taniquetil in the background. fun times, might write some snippets in the future

but i like to think through the mechanics of this kind of time travel story too much, so i started wondering where maitimo and makalaurë, yanno, went. i quickly came to the conclusion that they probably swapped places with their evil future selves, giving me three time travel aus for the price of one! technically four but (a) i’m not sure if or with who the twins would swap and (b) if they did their alternate selves are probably having a really bad time and i don’t particularly want to think about it. the stories maitimo and makalaurë are in... they’re not necessarily any happier, but they are a lot more wtftastic

maitimo falls asleep under the light of the trees, on a relaxing retreat from the demands of court life and family-induced disasters. he wakes up in a world that’s almost completely dark, surrounded by plants he’s never seen before and wearing clothing designed for a much warmer climate, the scent of death in the air. now permanently separated from all his old problems, maitimo rapidly acquires several exciting new ones, including but not limited to:

everyone he ever loved being dead or worse

the lone possible exception, his last surviving little brother, being an almost unrecognisable blood-drenched kinslayer who hates everything in the universe especially himself

said blood-drenched kinslayer almost immediately imprinting on him like a grouchy murderous duckling

his future self having apparently wanted to kill even more people, why

getting dogpiled by like thirty dudes in full armour the instant they showed up at the army of the west’s camp to surrender

getting soul-scanned by eönw two minutes later. not fun

arafinwë pulling him into an enormous hug and then bursting into tears

the subsequent explanation as to just what happened to him and his brothers, which somehow got worse after he’d already thought they’d hit rock bottom like four separate times

proceeding to lose a staring contest with findaráto

the way everyone in camp looks at him like he’s an incredibly dangerous wild animal that might bite at any time

how if half of what arafinwë said is true he can’t even blame them, fuck, fuck

the twin half-elven(?????????????) princes he and his brother apparently kidnapped and held hostage for years, inflicting unimaginable cruelties as far as anyone knows

his first meeting with the kids happening when elrond broke into where they were holding maglor to scream at him in very loud very fast very angry sindarin for like half an hour

maglor just staring at him, eyes wide, ears pinned back, the whole time, and then trying to maul the first guard who mocked him for it

getting saddled with kinslayer containment duties in the aftermath of that whole incident

elrond punching him in the collarbone when he tried to apologise, shouting ‘you weren’t there, don’t you dare try to tell me what it was like’

elros’ visible half second of pure terror after the blow hit home

elros then using recognisable techniques from maitimo���s debate team circuit during a speech to the edain

like, clearly some shit did happen, but it’s obviously not what the local leadership’s afraid of

this sour-faced scar-covered warrior slipping out of the shadows in an unpopulated part of camp, kneeling before him, intoning ‘the swords of the host remain at your disposal my lord’ and then immediately vanishing

he didn’t recognise them until after they’d left but they were definitely one of his philosophy club friends, what even

just generally having woken up in a future a thousand times worse than his darkest nightmares

his natural instinct is to try and fix things, but how?? what’s even left to fix????

maglor sometimes goes into these unhinged desperate spiralling rambles directed at the older brother who exists in his head rather than the one in front of his eyes. whatever’s left of maitimo’s biggest little brother is clearly in so much pain

all the things he’s trying extremely hard not to think about because if he slows down enough to he’s pretty sure he’ll collapse

all the people he’s never met who hate him for pretty understandable reasons and whose social structure he now has to learn to have any hope of making it out of All This

the edain’s collective insistence on calling him pasthros

curufinwë isn’t even a hundred how does he have a kid

makalaurë, on the other hand, wakes up on a beach beneath a giant glowing orb. finding himself in a land so much barer than what he knows, among people whose souls don’t even work like his, his initial working theory is he’s been abducted by aliens

[nothing-more-than-hot-leaf-juice]

Ok modern zuko would be an expert at breakdancing and sokka would be the guy who just bi-panicks whenever he does

(whoops, my hand slipped and I accidentally wrote a modern au headcanon turned zukka karate au one-shot) 

Okay but consider this instead: Zuko doesn’t know how to dance for shit and has horrible rhythm, but he is a GOD at martial arts. He’s been doing some type of style since he was a kid and is a full black belt by the time he hits high school. Martial arts was always something he excelled at, but it was also something that made him feel more secure. It was something he could work on to help him protect himself from his home life, even if it wasn’t enough most times. He specifically excels in weapons forms (I’m thinking twin sais) and you DO NOT want to spar with him. Because he may be skinny and shorter, but he’s quick and can hit hard at just the right spots. 

When he was younger he was obsessed mainly because he felt that belt rankings and trophies from competitions were a way to prove himself to his dad, but when he moved in with Iroh (who encouraged him to keep it up and was so proud of how talented and passionate he was about it), he basically used it in place of talking about his feelings. He didn’t talk about his home life or the shit Ozai did, instead, he put all his energy into his black belt levels, learning new weapons forms, and eventually into teaching new students as a junior instructor. 

At school, he’s awkward and asocial and just doesn’t have the energy for people. Zuko has little patience for asshole classmates who ask intrusive questions about his scar or spread rumors about where he got it. He eats lunch in his English classroom and would be a complete shut-in if Iroh didn’t get him to work part-time at the Jasmine Dragon. But in the dojo, he’s focused and is able to direct his energy into improving his forms and teaching younger teens. 

One of his newer students transferred from a different dojo after moving from a different state. He’s actually a freshman at Zuko’s high school but it’s not as if Zuko really interacted that much with him. This kid, Aang, is as talented and dedicated as he is, but has a long way to go to learn all the new katas. Zuko’s been dubbed the ‘scary’ trainer at the dojo. He’s the serious one who will yell if someone is goofing off and everyone’s seen that he has no problem using full force in a demonstration (little kids love him and he’s super nice to them, but he teaches the 12-15 age range). Plus there’s that scar, which doesn’t make him the most initially welcoming person. But this new kid Aang just latches onto Zuko immediately. He says hi to Zuko in the halls at school and works on his katas outside of regular practice times. At first Zuko thinks this sickeningly positive kid is annoying as crap, but warms up to him. He likes that Aang cares about martial arts and isn’t nice as a show, he’s just genuinely nice. 

And maybe he sees Aang hanging around school with a sophomore girl and her brother who just might be in Zuko’s calc class and English class. 

And maybe Zuko thinks this guy is insanely attractive and somehow incredibly funny even though most of his humor consists of the worst puns imaginable. 

But obviously, Zuko hasn’t attempted to ever actually talk to this guy. The most that he could classify as ‘talking’ to the cute, funny guy on the robotics club is the one day in English class when he had to respond to someone’s dumbass comment about Macbeth with what ended up being a ten minute spoken essay about obvious motifs and symbolism. To which Mr. Puns and Ponytail was very obviously paying great attention to and even gave Zuko a smile and thumbs up for. 

Zuko knows it’s pointless to engage. After all, he’s a senior and he doesn’t have any friends anyway. There’s no point in making any this year. Crushing on this guy from the comfortable position of the other side of the room is totally good enough for him. Totally. This is fine. He’s fine.  

Besides, he’s got competitions and if he doesn’t secure the regional championships this year he’s never going to get the chance after he goes to college. And he’s got his kids to train. Aang in particular is gearing up for his first debut into this area’s tournament. 

The tournament’s in October and usually, Zuko focuses on his own matches and performances, but Aang really wanted him to watch his set. So on this day, he stands on the sides of Aang’s zone instead of obsessively going through his katas in a corner.He’s not going to be able to watch the whole set because it overlaps with his own weapons portion, but he stands on the side and gives Aang a reassuring look that, ‘don’t worry, you’ll do great, you’re a talented kid,’ when his student looks over to him nervously. 

And wouldn’t you know it? Aang brought some friends to come watch. And one of them is Mr. Zuko’s Big Gay Crush. 

“Oh, hey Zuko,” are the words that come out of this guy's mouth that give Zuko a near-stroke. And damn if this guy’s eyes aren’t blue and pretty and he usually wears his hair in a ponytail at school, but now he’s wearing it down and Zuko wishes he could take screenshots with his brain because holy moly. 

“Hey.” Is the best that Zuko can get out of his dumb mouth. “You’re Sokka.” 

“Aang invited us to come watch,” Sokka nudges his head to indicate the ‘us’ includes his younger sister, who Zuko doesn’t know the name of. “How do you guys not get heatstroke during these things? It’s like a million degrees in here.” 

“Oh the gi’s pretty cold, I mean, it’s got air and stuff.” 

Zuko decided right there that he would be completely fine with being struck by lightning. Of course, that’s what his stupid brain would come up with. Of course, that’d be the thing he’d say in front of one of the smartest guys in his class. 

They watch Aang perform his set for the judges. Zuko recognizes that Aang took his advice when he said that he wasn’t putting enough force into his hits. He’s never seen Aang be as, well, aggressive isn’t the right word, but he’s definitely putting more power into his form. Zuko wouldn’t admit it, though, but only part of his attention was for Aang at the moment. The other part was for Sokka, who was smiling bright and pumping his fists when Aang completed a row of kicks. 

The small part of Zuko’s brain that wasn’t being taken up by watching Aang or trying to act normal around his crush noticed the clock on the wall indicating that the weapons portion would be starting in five minutes.  

“I’ve got to go do a thing so I’ll just, um, go do that now.” 

“Are you competing too?” Sokka asked. 

To this question Zuko just holds up his sais and raises his eyebrow as if to say ‘it’s a tournament, what do you think?’ Because yeah, he knows Sokka’s super smart, he’s seen him churn out calc answers at the speed of light and noticed his name on the robotics club awards update on the school’s website, but he’d also seen Sokka eat 5 packs of fundip at once on a dare and unironically wear a ‘women want me, fish fear me’ t-shirt for most of junior year. Somehow he had managed to fall for the smartest dumbass on earth. 

“Oh yeah, right.” Sokka eyes the sais and then looks right at Zuko’s face, “Aang says you’re really good.” 

Zuko decides that thinking about Aang talking to Sokka about him was something he didn’t need distracting him during his set. That was something he could anxious about later. 

“Hopefully good enough for those five assholes,” Zuko replies, gesturing to the panel of judges in the weapons section of the gymnasium. To his shock, Sokka laughs. It’s a nice laugh, too. And Zuko really hoped he could blame the blush that was one-hundred-percent creeping up his face on the lack of AC. 

“You know, you’re pretty funny man,” Sokka tells him. Zuko has no clue how to take that compliment, but he really does need to go. 

“Right,” he grins nervously and shifts his left foot around to bounce away, “well I have to go do my thing.” 

“Good luck!” 

That’s where Zuko thinks the beginning and end of his interaction with Sokka would be. 

The weapons portion thankfully goes by age. And since Zuko’s one of the youngest competitions, he gets to go first for his sai katas. This is what literal years of training have prepared him for. At regionals last year, the second advanced kata got him placed high enough to qualify for states. This is what he’s good at. He tells himself that a thousand times before starting his set. 

There’s not a thought in his head as Zuko goes through the form. The sais glide through his fingertips with every jab, block, and hook. The imaginary opponent doesn’t stand a chance. He’s cool and competent and graceful. It’s therapeutic in a sense. There’s enough adrenaline to make Zuko feel like he’s worth something, but more importantly, he knows he’s nailing this. Whatever the judges say about it, he knows that he’s perfected this form after practicing it at least a thousand times over three years. 

The judges agree with him. He’s the first competitor of the weapons portion but there isn’t really a doubt in their minds about who’s going to place. 

Zuko zones back in to the gym after bowing to the panel. He walks off, feeling lighter and letting a satisfactory smile take over his face. 

He expects the hug from Uncle and the proud smile from Sensei Piandao, but what he doesn’t expect is to see Sokka, eyes wide as globes, staring at him from the other side of the mat. 

Because what Zuko doesn’t know is that the second he turned his wrists in his first form during his hooks, Sokka’s brain went into Full Bi Panic Mode. 

And Zuko thinks the one conversation where he couldn’t talk like a human and wanted to die for most of it would be the only time Sokka would decide to willingly talk to him. Zuko is dead wrong. Sokka, in fact, has decided that this, this is the guy his Disaster Bi Brain has decided to latch onto. Sokka’s brain and all his squishy feelings have apparently decided to attach to this aloof kid with the scar who reserved his voice for eloquent, impassioned speeches about dramas and was apparently an actual god with weapons. Sokka decides that Zuko could roundhouse kick him in the side and he’d thank him. And right now Zuko’s looking at him with a dumbfounded expression, prompting Sokka to remember how to function so he can go over to congratulate Zuko and maybe ask if his dojo provides a free trial. 

So yeah, that one conversation ends up decisively not being the end of anything. 

[faerienextdoor]

general relationship hcs with (some) pastas

Fair warning, I'm using and hinting at mine and my friends’ writing for these creeps :) enjoy  also as soon as i figure out how to open an ask box, I’ll be accepting requests

Brian:

- oh where to start with this absolute himbo

- he melts around you. like he's your bitch, and you're his.

- he's the type of boyfriend that takes you out in the snow and shoves a handful down the back of your jacket, and laughs until you shove snow in his face

- it is snow war

- it ends with you cuddling him, wrapped in a blanket and content in front of the burning fire he got started just for you <3

- but he also has some weird... habits.

- drinks pickle juice.

- gets his hand stuck in the jar.

- looks at you like 🥺 until you sigh and help him. for the fifteenth time.

- he can cook some basic breakfast foods, and happily breaks out a cookbook to prepare you something as a surprise or to learn something with you!!

- baking with him would be a mess. he forgets flour goes everywhere and now you both look like you took a bath in cocaine

- but the cupcakes are mediocre at best. they aren't absolute garbage, so... cupcake points!

- he worries about how hoodie treats you. he doesn't remember anything when he regains control, but you've reassured him hoodie is just fine.

- and he is

(hoodie)

- hoodie is like a rottweiler or a doberman.

- protective. intimidating. energetic.

- but also a giant fucking baby.

- this large ass man lumbers over and drops to his knees. places his chin on your lap and stares at you from the fabric of his mask until you stop what you're doing and stroke his head awkwardly

- you could swear he does those happy grumbled a rottie does.

- hoodie is silent but shows he loves you just as much as brian does. He strokes your hair silently, even places a kiss to the crown of your head as you sink into his beefy arms.

- he smells nice too. surprisingly.

- but that raises the question: if hoodie showers, does he shower with that damn thing on?

- you won't get an answer if you were to ask.

- brian introduces you to his grandma julia. and she dotes on you.

- the immortal old lady remarks that you’re the best s/o brian has brought to her yet.

Tim:

- a lumberjack man with biceps like a fucking tree trunk

- how'd you land him? give me your secrets (/j)

- he's such a love bug. a tired stressed love bug.

- he finds /every/ excuse to have physical contact with you. it's like a little touch from you reassures him that you're real. you're like a dream to him.

- he's the best for cuddles. He holds you to his chest

- and you get special access to his moobs

- and he gently strokes your head, traces shapes into your back, etc. it's a special intimate moment each time.

- my man's is italian-american but can't cook to save his fucken life

- he always gets your favorite microwave meals though!! he never forgets.

- not feeling good? dw baby he's making it for you <33 shitty low tier bean and cheese burrito coming up

- slowly he learns the basics and surprises you with lunch or even dinner if you're lucky!!

- he loves you so much. and wants you to feel it and know it. all the time.

(masky)

- god where to start with this bitch

- he's not jeff levels of bad ofc, but he's silent and... weird. creepy, some may say. he doesn't mean to be.

- and he's a hard ass. far more strict than tim.

- he follows you around like a giant fucken puppy and will spook you by grabbing you abruptly and holding you tightly

- you can't escape him. he really utilizes his physical strength

- he loves lifting you up and just... holding you. or carrying you off.

- protective and overbearing.

- but tim keeps him under control.

(angst)

- he wouldn't want to lose you like he lost his last wife.

- you find pictures of a woman laying around and a small girl that bears a striking resemblance to her and tim.

- tim goes quiet and questioned but eventually caves and tells you about his family

- or what he used to have

- his wife died and his daughter disappeared.

- it broke him and you're all he has left now

- constantly needs your affection in return to his own

- pls love him

jeff:

- why the fuck would you date him

- he's the absolute worst in so many aspects. But he genuinely tries for you.

- even if his gifts are shitty, it's nice to know he thoughts of you, right? even if it's a half dead flower or a rib torn from a deer caraccas.

- but you get the butt end of his shithead antics. ranch bath, specifically. he smelt like spoiled milk for a week after and you had to cuddle that fucker.

- and don't get me started on mayo bath

- but he still loves finding himself in your arms. or finding you in his. he's demanding affection wise, and will yank you into him for some cuddles. whether you like it or not.

- he isn't one for a lot of pet names, but calls you curse words or "sweetheart" in polish.

- and you get to see the side of him that only shows when he breaks down.

(bit of angst)

- he misses his family and the life he used to have. he'll reminisce what it was like in poland with his mom and family with you, and you sometimes swear you can see his brown eyes gloss over at the memory of her.

- he never talks about his dad, you've noticed.

- don't ask.

- he brushes off heavy conversations with some dumb quip ("wanna see my renegade?")

- he sucks at cooking. god awful at it. but he really tries for you. manages a bowl of oat meal that's edible.

- but he overloads it with sugar and for some reason, salt.

- he's confused. he thinks that's normal (it isn't)

- his idea of a date is napping with you. or rather, forcing you into nap time.

- I mean it when I say this man is strong in a weird fucken way. latches onto you with that iron grip and you won't be able to leave for at least a few hours.

jane:

- ethereal wlw woman.

- could break you with her heels. or a flutter of what eyelashes she has.

- you're lucky to have her, and she's just as lucky to have you!

- she's sweet and charming. very smooth and takes good care of you.

- her love language is a mix of physical touch and acts of service.

- she'll cuddle you all night, and then make you breakfast in the morning.

- she loves showering with you when she's comfy enough around you! it's super intimate and she washes your hair.

- massages the soap into your hair, suds spilling down your neck and back as her fingers scrub circles into your scalp.

- it's heaven on earth. such a domestic life.

- it'll take a while for her to settle enough in the relationship for you to see her without her mask

- you make her feel so loved and wanted

- secure, even.

- she's protective but not controlling or overbearing. shes that type of girlfriend that's just a worrywart and relaxes as soon as you're curled up in her arms. you fit there perfectly, too. like you belong there.

- which you do. at least in her mind

- she has such a gentle touch and hold on you. like she's afraid you'll combust in her arms if she holds you too tightly.

- she loves stroking your hair and having you nap

- using her tiddies as a pillow 👌

(angst)

- she needs affirmation from you when it comes to her scars.

- she thinks that jeff ruined her. permanently marking her once spotless body.

- and she thinks you'll hate her or find her disgusting.

- that's why she freezes if/when you gently slip off her mask.

- she stares at you with those teary green eyes. then leans in and kisses you

- you make all of her worries disappear.

- she's also financially comfortable, but not really rich (on that topic: eat the rich)

- she spoils you every chance she gets. gifts, a nice dinner date, you name it

- she almost spoils you as much as she does her cat Emory

- little shit has the sparkliest fucken collar and acts like he's the shit

- he's your fur baby too now

Helen:

- oh my god this disaster of an art boi

- he's convinced he's the luckiest man in the world (and he might as well be!!)

- he obviously wouldn't have been the one to confess. but it was really obvious by how he painted and drew you constantly, that some feeling for you was lodged into his beating heart.

- he treats you like the finest china. with the most care a man can manage.

- he's the definition of clingy and affectionate from the very start.

- he curls around your sleeping form perfectly when y'all cuddle.

- his hand dances in your hair, soothing you into a dreamless sleep each night without fail.

- he has a magic touch and a gentle voice.

- and he cherishes you so fucken much. (like a simp /j)

- he shies away from kisses at first, but will hold your hand and melts if you hold his face in them!!!

- he's greek, and often speaks sweet things to you in it. he's so comfortable around you that he speaks in his native language to you. that's an accomplishment.

- he loves when you baby him. helen loves being cradled and loved.

- taking a nap with his head on your chest also hits different. he's so in love with you

(angst)

- he's afraid of losing you. who wouldn't be? you're amazing and you love /him/ of all people

- he thinks very negatively of himself. please scold him for self deprecating.

- he always worries he'll wake up and you'll be gone.

- so he holds you extra close at night. and follows you around when you leave for any reason. Trails behind you like a lost puppy in need of a gentle kiss.

- which, is what he essentially is

- and also: pls steal his sweater and wear it. he'll cry over how cute you are.

[wordsablaze]

13/13 - goat string of fate

A Dozen Denials Soulmate-identifiers exist to make things easier unless you’re Jaskier, who’s equally as deep in love as he is in denial. But there’s only so many excuses you can make to avoid the truth… (aka jaskier’s soulmate is definitely a witcher, just not the one he first assumes)

A/N: what we've all been waiting for... undeniable red string of fate, but with goats for eskel's sake ;) @alllthequeenshorses @eskel-loves-lilbleater

previous chapter

-

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!”

Jaskier’s heart breaks.

He knows that Geralt isn’t lying because the words don’t show up on his skin and he knows that Geralt isn’t just saying that for the sake of it because his pulse is as steady as ever under his wrist and he knows that Geralt isn’t thinking with a clouded mind because he can’t feel any intense emotions at the back of his mind.

The only logical conclusion to make is that Geralt really means it.

“See you round,” he says, even though he’s not sure he will.

It’s nowhere near the first time he’s had his heart broken but somehow this time hurts so much more than every other time, probably something to do with the fact that he’s leaving his very soulmate behind as he walks away with blurred vision and wobbly steps.

He doesn’t walk very far, though; he just can’t bring himself to.

-

There is a building on fire.

And there is a witcher trying to help.

Nobody asked him to help and yet he runs into the building because he can hear the panicked heartbeats of four humans inside.

He hands over a frightened child to their mother and runs back in.

He hands over a man to his grateful sister and runs back in.

He hands over a crying girl to her father and runs back in.

There’s one more racing heartbeat inside the building but he can’t find it, it doesn’t belong to anyone he can see, and even though he tries his best because he can’t let anyone die - he just can’t - he has no choice but to leave when the roof caves in and smoke fills the air.

It’s only once he can breathe again that he realises the heartbeat has followed him out.

The last person wasn’t in the fire after all; they’re under his skin.

-

Jaskier doesn’t get the rest of the story from the others in the end.

He wants to - he’s a bard so of course he wants to - but he knows that his own story having just found such a bitter end means that he won’t do the dragon hunt any justice so he leaves its tale to the dwarves.

He’s tired and he kind of wants to cry and he doesn’t know which way he’s meant to go so he doesn’t even try to subtly follow the others back down the mountain. Instead, he walks and walks and walks and hopes he doesn’t fall to his death.

And he doesn’t. But he does stumble over nothing in particular and end up rolling over himself until he hits a tree, gasping for breath and curling around his lute because he doesn’t have any other source of comfort.

The last thought he manages before he drifts off - read: passes out - is that he’s incredibly glad his lute hasn't broken the same way his heart has.

-

There is a funeral.

And there is a witcher trying to mourn.

But there is something giddy in the back of his throat and something bright behind his eyes and something exciting at his fingertips and he cannot focus his emotions.

There is a fight.

And there is a witcher trying to concentrate.

But there is a puzzle in his lungs and a question on the tip of his tongue and a mystery in his every bone and he cannot tell if he knows what move to make next.

There is a festival.

And there is a witcher watching quietly.

But there is a heavy grief in his stomach and a heavy doubt inside his mind and a heavy pain within his blood and he has no idea why his body is telling him to be upset.

-

Jaskier wakes to the taste of oranges.

For some reason, it just makes him want to cry.

“We are not dying on some godsforsaken mountain,” Jaskier mutters to his lute but also to himself because if he is to die, it will not be at the hands of heartbreak.

A lot easier said than done, though, because he ends up lost. Horribly lost. So lost that he wonders if someone had moved him while he was sleeping because there’s no way he could end up so clueless when he’d been pretty close to their original path the day before.

And he’s not unfit but he must have bruised himself more than he can tell while tumbling because he doesn’t get further than the duration of half a dozen ballads before both his muscles and his lungs force him to stop and rest in danger of retiring altogether.

Still, he keeps going. He can’t find anything edible but he hangs onto the taste of oranges from his stolen dream as he pushes forwards, begrudgingly thanking Destiny for giving him at least that from his soulmate.

-

There is a town with a contract.

And there is a witcher who almost regrets accepting it.

The monster is easy enough to defeat, nothing that takes more than a day. No, the monster isn’t the reason he chooses to disappear for almost a month afterwards - that would be the mirror.

Or more specifically, what he sees in the mirror: one of his eyes is the wrong colour.

He thinks he’s delirious at first but one potion and two hours’ worth of meditating later, his eyes are still inexplicably mismatched.

His left eye is the colour of the sky. The colour of the ocean. The colour of a privilege that he was never allowed to have. And he’s read just about enough poetry to know how that means he has a soulmate out there somewhere.

All that does is drown him in a blue hue of guilt.

-

Jaskier has just started playing his third song on the lute when something crashes into his legs.

He yelps, springing to his feet and almost tripping over whatever it is that’d crashed into him, which turns out to be a goat. A goat, of all things.

“Right, well, if you could not do that whole attacking thing again, that’d be great. You have rather pointy horns,” Jaskier huffs, settling on the rock once again.

To its credit, the goat seems to listen, munching on grass instead of stepping on his toes as Jaskier starts playing again. Confused but not entirely against the company, he continues singing about whatever comes to mind until the sky begins to darken and the air turns cold.

He sighs, putting the lute away and gently reaching out to stroke the goat, smiling when it doesn’t just headbutt him and bleats happily before settling in his lap. “At least you seem to want to stick around,” he mumbles.

Too tired to find anywhere more sheltered, Jaskier pulls his doublet tighter around himself and hugs his new best friend as tightly as he dares. For a moment, the goat lifts its head and stares at him and he fears he’s about to have his eye poked out, but then it just burps and settles again.

This time, he falls asleep laughing.

-

There is a hearth.

And there is a witcher sat beside three other witchers.

And despite the warmth of the fire and the warmth of his family, he is cold.

He is colder than he ever is, colder than when he is submerged underwater during a fight or when he is caught unawares in a storm or when he is kicked out of a tavern because he brings down the mood.

There is no explanation for why he is cold because he is home and he is safe and he should be warm but for some reason, he is not.

He is rarely warm.

And if he is warm, he doesn’t understand why.

There is no explanation for why he is warm when passing ruins he’s never seen before or when camping in the middle of nowhere just to be away from people or when being told the last copy of the book he’d been looking for was just sold to someone else.

Eventually, he gets used to the confusion, pulls on a cloak, and moves on.

-

Jaskier is probably losing a few of his marbles.

With nothing better to do, he follows the goat as it travels along a seemingly random path to find nothing in particular, stopping every so often to munch on something or the other.

“I can’t believe I’m following a goat,” he mutters to himself as he brushes grass off his arms, “and it’s not even a cute little baby- what’s a baby goat called? Hmm, I should really know that… Or should I? It’s not like I’ve met any farmers lately. Or anyone, for who am I meant to meet atop a mountain? Well, a goat, apparently.”

Said goat bleats at him as if asking him to hurry up.

“Yes yes, I’m hurrying. Some of us don’t eat grass, you know? Oh, but how would you know when all you can think about is the next patch of moss you’re going to eat? Is that what life is to be, travelling from patch to patch and-? Hey, that could be a wonderful name. I dub thee Patchy, my dearest goat friend,” Jaskier declares, grinning.

Patchy bleats again and headbutts his shin but it’s okay because it doesn’t hurt in the slightest and he only wobbles a little bit.  

“I’m taking that as your approval!”

-

There is a woman.

And there is a witcher lying in bed next to her.

They are both tired and not quite awake and she is gently running her nails along his arms because she has never seen anyone with so many scars.

He is waiting for her to fall asleep but she sits up and frowns, pointing out the words that have appeared on his skin: but I didn’t take any honey.

She must be able to tell he’s just as confused as she is because she gives him a funny look but doesn’t pry, though he leaves in the dead of night while she’s still asleep to avoid any chances of her asking questions.

But the words keep appearing and he ends up with plenty of his own questions anyway.

When he’s mending his armour: it doesn’t even hurt anymore; when he’s hunting: I love you more than I love getting drunk; when he’s brushing his horse: I assure you I have a perfectly good explanation; when he’s buying new gloves: I’m afraid I don’t know you; when he’s stitching up a wound: of course I was given permission to be here.

And on and on and on.

He wonders if this person is even human at times because they seem to lie more in a week than he even talks in a month.

-

Jaskier is exhausted.

“Hey, Patchy, it’s been lovely to know you but I think the time has come to part ways because I simply cannot take another step,” he mutters, leaning against the closest tree and sliding to the floor.

Patchy leaps into his lap with an oddly angry bleat.

Jaskier shrugs, ripping up a bit of grass and letting her eat it off his hand before sighing. “I fear it is indeed my fate to perish here. Perhaps life does grant blessings after all, hmm?”

His stomach rumbles and Patchy seems to take offence, startling and jerking sideways, the goat’s horns catching on his sleeve and causing a panic that leads to a large tear in his doublet and a mercifully smaller tear in his skin.

Still, he winces, pressing a hand onto the cut and half-heartedly glaring at Patchy. “Really? You’re lucky the material is red anyway, you menace.”

He regrets his words when the goat stands, spins on the spot, and makes a strange noise before sprinting away. Somehow, that abrupt departure stings far more than his actual injury.

-

There is an ocean.

And there is a witcher who has never been to the coast for a good reason, and still hasn’t.

He doesn’t belong in this scene, he’s borrowing it from someone else without even knowing how, but he can’t look away from the waves as they brush over the sand and over his toes before retreating once more.

There is a cane.

And there is a witcher who has never suffered this kind of punishment, and still hasn’t.

Although the injuries are not his and the crime - if it even exists - has nothing to do with him, he can’t escape the burning pain and the sharp throbbing as someone makes sure the wood meets its mark, again and again.

There is a cat.

And there is a witcher who has never been able to see one up close, and still hasn’t.

He’s not the one touching the tiny ball of fluff that curls up in his palms, he seems to be experiencing someone else’s amazement, but the feeling of soft fur and quiet purring stays with him for no less than a week.

-

Jaskier is ready to give up.

He truly has no idea where he is or how he’s meant to get back to flat land. The berries he’d found in the morning have done very little to provide him with energy and he’s about to declare himself as food for the wolves or something when he hears bleating.

“Patchy!”

And it is.

The goat barrels into him hard enough to knock him over but he’s too busy trying to hug his horned friend to care. He’s also too busy hugging his horned friend to notice that he’s being watched. That is, until someone clears their throat.

He freezes, looking up.

There’s a very long moment in which his heart drops about a mile into his stomach as he catches sight of a wolf medallion but then he sees the amber eyes and the spiked armour and the hesitant smile and his lungs remember how to work once again.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” Jaskier says, grinning.

The witcher frowns at that, glancing over him in clear concern. Before he can reply, Jaskier looks away to tug his sleeve out of Patchy’s mouth and winces as he pulls on the not quite scab that had developed over the goat-inflicted wound.

“Oh, is he yours?” the witcher asks after a minute, and gods is his voice deep enough to sink into forever.

Jaskier blinks, pulling himself back to the matter at hand before he spirals into a daydream and shaking his head. “I didn’t even know he was a he, to be honest. Thank you for that, by the way, at least I can sing him a more accurate song of gratitude now.”

The witcher chuckles and steps to the side, revealing another, smaller goat that immediately bounds over and settles on his leg; Jaskier has never been so innocently afraid to accidentally move in his life.

“She’s called Lil Bleater,” the witcher says, promptly cursing when said goat starts nibbling on the sleeve Jaskier had just saved from being eaten by Patchy.

“It’s not like I was planning on wearing this doublet again anyway,” Jaskier says, but he still feels incredibly guilty for letting such fine tailoring end up as food for a pair of goats.

-

Eskel has never been so confused.

He feels like he recognises this stranger from somewhere but he can’t place it, the knowledge is almost like smoke slipping between his fingers before he can grasp it properly.

“It looks like it’s seen better days anyway,” he says, immediately regretting it when the other man blinks at him.

But then he laughs - perhaps the nicest laugh Eskel has ever had the pleasure of hearing - and holds out a hand, amusement sparkling in his eyes. Eskel leans forwards to shake his hand but Lil Bleater chooses that moment to get up and charge at him so he steps back and picks her up instead, offering the man an apologetic look.

“Not to worry, my hand will live a little longer without the honour of yours in it. I’m Jaskier, and you have my eternal gratitude for appearing out of nowhere when I was about a day away from forgetting what other people’s voices sound like,” the man says sincerely.

“Jaskier?” Eskel echoes.

He knows Geralt has mentioned this bard in the past and he’d have to be living under a rock not to know of him at all, what with the songs that are sung his way whenever he ventures into more populated towns, but he can’t fathom why someone so famous would be spending his time with a mountain goat.

Jaskier grins up at him. “Ah, so you’ve heard of me! I wish I could say the same but I don’t believe we’ve met before?”

Eskel shakes his head. “I, uh, I don’t do… crowds.”

“You and every other witcher, it seems,” Jaskier says, but he doesn’t sound like he’s trying to insult anyone. If anything, he seems almost sad.

“The crowds seem more like your style, bardling. What are you doing up here?”

The bard opens his mouth to say something before closing it again, then sighs. “I got lost and ended up following a goat until I got even more lost?”

Eskel chuckles, then puts Lil Bleater back on the ground before leaning down and offering Jaskier his hand because it feels odd to continue the conversation while he’s still sitting down. This time, the goats don’t get in the way and he manages to pull them both upright.

-

Jaskier gets about five seconds of being upright before he keels over.

Everything hurts.

The world blurs around him.

His knees hit the floor with a dull thud.

Everything really hurts.

There’s something under his skin.

His body is on fire.

Everything hurts so very much and he has no idea what’s happening and the sky has disappeared altogether and there’s water rushing past his ears and he’s in so much pain and he’s going to die without even having learnt this gorgeous witcher’s name and he can’t feel his hands at all and it’s way too dark and-

“Breathe, Jaskier!”

He already is.

Or maybe he’s not.

He unclenches his jaw and gasps desperately.

“That’s it, just breathe, you’re okay.”

But he’s not.

Or maybe he will be.

He groans and reluctantly peels open his eyes.

“I’ve got you,” the witcher murmurs, and he has; his arms are practically cradled around Jaskier and the two of them are kneeling in a tangle of limbs on the ground.

Jaskier exhales.

“You’re not going to die, I promise. And my name’s Eskel,” the witcher whispers, at which point Jaskier mortifyingly realises he must have been panicking out loud.

Slowly, Jaskier uncurls his limbs.

He stretches his fingers out from where they’d been squeezed into fists and waits for a moment before accepting that whatever the blinding pain had been is over before looking up, intending to thank Eskel.

But Eskel gasps before he can say anything.

And Jaskier immediately panics again, wondering what could possibly be wrong. He doesn’t need to ask though, because Eskel lifts a hand to ever so lightly tracing his finger down the right side of Jaskier’s face and it doesn’t take a genius to work out what he can see.

“No no no no no,” Jaskier breathes frantically, “this cannot be happening.”

He pulls himself out of Eskel’s arms and shakes his head but his gaze lands on his hands as he uses them to balance and his breath hitches. Without wasting a second, he shrugs off his doublet and rolls his sleeves up, eyes widening at the sight of silvery scars he’s never earned, silvery scars he’d once had and once lost.

“No, I- I already know my- Geralt was- is- no, no, no no no no, wait. Wait. This can’t be right, it can’t- it- you can’t- I mean, we can’t be- nope, no no...” Jaskier’s words can’t seem to form themselves properly as he struggles to breathe.

-

Eskel has no idea what’s happening.

Except he does.

There’s only really one explanation for why the marks that had suddenly revealed themselves on Jaskier’s skin are an exact copy of his own scars, there’s only really one explanation for why the colour of Jaskier’s eyes had seemed so familiar, and there’s only really explanation for why he feels like someone has cast igni inside his heart.

Unfortunately, Jaskier doesn’t seem to like that one explanation.

He waits, though. He waits until Jaskier remembers how to inhale and exhale properly before offering the bard a small smile. “I’m sorry.”

Surprisingly, Jaskier looks confused at that. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, “I don’t blame you for preferring, uh, Geralt. Or anyone else, for that matter. I wouldn’t want to be stuck with me either.”

Even more surprisingly, Jaskier shuffles closer and punches his arm with a surprising amount of strength, his confusion having been entirely replaced by anger. “I don’t know what in Melitele’s name you think you mean by that but I demand that you stop… thinking it. I’m not- I- I just thought- I’ve spent years, so many years, thinking that I knew and I- I don’t know… I can’t-”

He cuts himself off, his chin wobbling, and Eskel has the inexplicable urge to hug him.

So he does.

Jaskier stiffens for half a second before he seems to forget that he has bones and all but melts into the embrace, burying his head into the crook of Eskel’s neck and throwing his arms around him as if his life depends on it.

Eskel has never felt so pleasantly warm in his life.

He wraps his arms around Jaskier in return and pulls him close, pretending that he can’t hear the sobs the bard is trying so hard to stifle and marvelling at the fact that he gets to hold his soulmate in his arms at all.

His soulmate.

He’d never thought he’d actually get to meet them.

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier mumbles eventually.

Eskel pulls back only enough to frown, brushing the tears away from under Jaskier’s eyes before tilting his head to the left. “You have nothing to apologise for.”

-

Jaskier feels like a fool.

He leans into Eskel’s soft touch for a moment before cupping the witcher’s face in his hands. “I’m sorry I never looked for you. I’m sorry I didn’t realise I was wrong. I’m sorry I almost just insulted you. I’m sorry for wasting so much time. I’m just so, so sorry.”

Eskel shrugs. “You didn’t know and I don’t blame you. It’s not your fault. I… I knew and I didn’t try so perhaps I ought to be the one apologising to you.”

But Jaskier did know.

To some extent, at least.

He’s known for long enough that not everything was adding up and he’d ignored it, he’d done nothing about it because he’d been terrified of losing Geralt, of losing his soulmate, of losing a life he’s loved, and it turns out he’s been losing everything he didn’t even know he could have had instead.

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier mumbles again, letting his forehead fall against Eskel’s as he closes his eyes.

“How does getting to the nearest inn sound?” Eskel offers.

Jaskier laughs and meets Eskel’s eyes, nodding. “Sounds like a plan I can’t argue with.”

“We’ll start with getting you to a proper bed and then go from there.”

He tries to resist that, he really does, but Jaskier simply cannot stop himself from smirking and raising an eyebrow. “Straight to bed, darling? Aren’t you even going to buy me a drink first?”

The endearingly sheepish look on Eskel’s face is almost worth all the pain.

“Though you really should buy me a drink first, for one reason or the other; I am a little dizzy still,” Jaskier mutters, having forgotten all about that because of the unprecedented pain.

Eskel curses.

Before Jaskier can even process the emotional whiplash, Eskel has lifted him to his feet and turned around, dropping to one knee. “Let’s go.”

Jaskier blinks. “Are you asking me to… climb on your back?”

Eskel turns to look at him with half a smile. “I really don’t think you’re capable of walking more than a mile more without collapsing, Jaskier.”

Well, that’s probably true. He grabs his lute and swings that onto his own back before looping his arms around Eskel’s neck, his legs locking around the witcher’s waist as he stands up effortlessly.

-

Eskel smiles as Jaskier settles on his back as if he were born to do so.

Which, quite possibly, he sort of was.

He smells like the comfort Eskel gets from when the dreams he borrows are good ones and it feels impossible that he gets to experience it in person. But it’s very much not impossible because Jaskier is a steady weight around his waist and on his shoulder and against his neck.

It’s a little overwhelming.

“So you’re the one who was dreaming of a succubus then?” Jaskier asks out of the blue.

Eskel stops walking for a second, narrowly avoids accidentally kicking Lil Bleater, and clears his throat. “Dreaming? No. No, that’s not quite how we spent the night.”

There’s a moment of silence before Jaskier laughs brightly. Eskel can feel the way his shoulders shake with the force of his amusement and it’s almost a miracle that neither of them overbalance.

“You’ll have to elaborate on that at some point, it’s going to make a great song!”

“You want to write songs about the succubi I’ve met?” Eskel asks, confused. Surely the bard could have asked Geralt about them over the years, it’s not like witchers can afford to designate who takes care of which creatures or anything.

But Jaskier snorts, pokes Eskel’s cheek, and shakes his head. “No, I- I want to write songs about… about my soulmate.”

That feels like a confession and Eskel is honoured to have received it. He hums in acknowledgement and gently squeezes one of Jaskier’s legs. “Not to worry, we have all the time in the world.”

“We do?” Jaskier asks.

Shuffling the bard’s weight a little bit, Eskel lifts his right hand so Jaskier can see his wrist and more specifically, the ouroboros etched into it. He hears Jaskier gasp before there are gentle fingers around his arm that almost make him shiver, a warm finger tracing the symbol over and over until Eskel hears quiet sniffling.

It takes a while for Jaskier to exhale softly and give Eskel’s hand back to him, after which he goes back to supporting his weight more evenly. He has plenty of his own questions but he figures it’s best to leave them for later, when they’ve both recovered from the shock.

The town comes into view sooner than expected, or perhaps Eskel had just been unknowingly pushing himself to walk faster because he can feel the way Jaskier’s grip has slowly relaxed to the point where he’s practically just draped over him like a very strange sort of cloak.

As much as he doesn’t want to let go of Jaskier, he has to when they get to the stables. Both goats are more than happy to be secured near Scorpion, who huffs at Jaskier just hard enough to send him stumbling into Eskel’s side with a small yelp.

“I’ve got you,” Eskel chuckles.

-

Jaskier grins.

“That you have,” he agrees, “but have you got a room?”

Nodding, Eskel leads them both back to the inn. But instead of going up the stairs, he guides Jaskier to the table in the corner. “Stay here, I’m going to get some food.”

Jaskier blinks, used to this scenario playing out the other way around. Eskel is gone before he can even think of replying so he just yawns and waits, shuffling over when the witcher returns because if he doesn’t lean against someone, he’s probably going to fall into his meal.

Eskel pauses for a second before sliding into the seat beside him, placing two bowls of stew in front of them. “I know you’re tired but you really should eat.”

“How ever will I repay such kindness?” Jaskier mumbles before following Eskel’s instructions.

Jaskier is immensely grateful that Eskel doesn’t mind being leaned on because almost counterintuitively, eating only makes him want to fall asleep even more. By the time they’re both finished, he can barely keep his eyes open.

“Almost there,” Eskel says, at which point he realises they’re now halfway up the stairs.

Yawning again, Jaskier keeps a tight hold of Eskel’s arm as they get to his room, thrown off when they stop by the door instead of somewhere more suitable for sleeping. “What’s wrong?” he asks, frowning.

Eskel places the lute Jaskier apparently hadn’t been strong enough to carry himself down before gesturing around vaguely. “I didn’t know anyone would be staying with me so…”

Jaskier laughs, throwing his head back. He has no idea what compels him to do so but he cups Eskel’s confused face in his hands and places a soft kiss on his nose. “Eskel, darling, you are literally my soulmate. I think we’ll be alright sharing a bed.”

He can actually feel the way Eskel smiles under his hands and can’t help grinning back, but then his knees decide to buckle for no apparent reason - aside from the general exhaustion and probably clumsy bruises, of course - and Eskel is once again the only thing keeping him upright.

He’s not entirely sure what the sequence of events is after that but he doesn’t care to puzzle over it because he ends up with his head on an actual pillow and Eskel’s arms around him and he’s never felt so comfortable and safe and content in his life.

“Don’t leave without me,” Jaskier mumbles even as he can feel himself drifting off, only slightly embarrassed at being so obvious about it.

Eskel hums quietly and brushes the pad of his thumb over Jaskier’s cheek before moving his hair away from his forehead, smiling softly as their eyes meet. “I would never even think of it,” he promises.

And somehow, despite everything else in his life that’s somehow gone wrong and fallen apart and proven that perhaps he shouldn’t be so blindly trusting of what he thinks may be the truth even if he has plenty of reasons to believe otherwise, Jaskier can't bring himself to doubt the witcher’s words even in the slightest.

If there’s one thing he knows, it’s that Eskel has always been his destiny.

-

i apologise if this finale was a little messy because i was indecisive and couldn't choose just one pov but i am so hyped to have finished !!! i hope this ending was worth all the chaos <3

-

thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher blog: @itsjaskier

[alecmagnuslwb]

A Multiverse of Possibilities

Read on AO3

John watches as Zatanna, but not his Zatanna, picks up the little girl that’s the spitting image of the woman he loves. All except for the eyes, she’s got his eyes. The other him, a him with way less scars who managed to quit smoking cold turkey the day that little girl became a reality, walks over to them and kisses both girls on the head.

John looks away it feels like a private moment he isn’t supposed to see. He turns to see his Zatanna leaning against the doorway watching the same scene as him moving to meet his eyes and smile at him. She’s gorgeous in torn black jean shorts and fishnets. The jacket she stole from him years ago is slipping off one of her shoulders, her black and blue lace button up showing just a bit of that beautiful skin underneath; looking at her grounds him to reality, to their reality.

They’ve been at this for, well he’s not sure how long now hopping against their will from earth to earth. It all started in a fight against Nick, a spell got blasted at them and here they are. Upside they’ve sorted it’s a spell with a time limit, downside the time limit hasn’t been reached yet.

It’s a distraction tactic so Nick can no doubt steal something from the house of mystery he absolutely shouldn’t have his hands on. It’s a fifteen earths situation at best they estimate and they’re only halfway through.

They’ve met a version of themselves that were in a band, a lively duo that couldn’t keep their hands off each other; an evil edition of them that weirdly put some of his own self worth into perspective for him; a version of them with no magic. And of course there was the earth where he’s fairly certain they were both long dead and a very benevolent Nick was ruling it all, trying to take out another Zatanna and John for fun.

They even hit a world where he was alone, where he’d lost her years ago and was basically living every day to try and get himself killed too.

Somehow though that world where he saw quite possibly the worst most depressing version of himself hasn’t been the hardest. This one has. This one where they’ve been happily in love since they were nineteen, where they have magic but it’s not an apocalypse a minute, it’s just fun. This world where there’s photos of a small wedding that worked just right for them and baby pictures of a little girl that they had the safety and ability to bring into this world.

This world is reminding him of all the things, all the peace they’ll never get to have. It’s not that he thinks they should have kids or get married or any of that. It’s not that he’s not happy with her, that he doesn’t love her because god does he ever. He sure as hell doesn’t want to be the kind of guy that wears khaki shorts and even though any version of her is beautiful, he doesn’t really know how to come to terms with a Zatanna that wears pastels.

It’s just the possibility of it all, the possibility of this kind of safety he’ll never be able to give her that’s bugging him.

Zatanna takes his hand and tugs him along to the room that they’ve been set up in for however long they’ll be here. This version of them has been very hospitable and helpful in figuring out this spell, much more than any of the others before.

Zatanna shuts the door behind them quietly leaning back against it. She stretches her arms out in front of her and sighs in relief when her shoulders make a delicate popping sound. John looks at the bed and bypasses it shuffling over to the wall beside the large window.

John runs his hands through his hair with a sigh sliding down the wall slowly to sit on the floor. He rests his elbows on his knees and hangs his head between his legs moving his neck back and forth in the hopes of releasing the tension.

This earth hopping stuff is really getting to him.

He hears the familiar sound of Zatanna’s chunky heels come his way. She follows his lead sliding down the wall to sit beside him, her legs stretched out in front of her crossed at the ankles. From the corner of his eye John watches as Zatanna slowly twists the zipper of her jacket between her fingers.

They’re quiet for a while John still stretching his neck back and forth. After a few minutes Zatanna huffs reaching out a hand and placing it on the back of his neck. She moves her fingers slowly, rhythmically in circles that feels just right. She whispers something he can’t quite make out under her breath and the tingle of her magic joins the rhythmic motion. He melts into her hand, into her magic like butter feeling the tension in his body evaporate.

Eventually he lifts his head when her magic subsides, but her fingers stay in place playing small circles into his skin.

“Do you ever think we could have had it better?” he asks surprising himself a bit with saying the words out loud. Her fingers fall from his neck and she turns her body to face him moving in a little bit closer. She looks a little forlorn and John reads it as her thinking he’s not happy with her, with what they have which is the last thing he wants.

“I don’t mean to say our life sucks or anything,” he quickly adds on and the concern on her face washes away just a bit. “But just seeing all these other versions of us, of how it could have gone I just think about how much easier it could have been for us.”

He sighs dropping his legs and tilting his head to the side to meet her eyes.

“I mean maybe if I just made a few damn better choices we could be living like this,” he says gesturing around them. “White picket fence and a kid and all that happily ever after. Maybe we wouldn’t be stuck in a damn earth hopping spell cast on us by our evil ex best friend that’s already nearly got you killed once.”

Zatanna tilts her head in thought while she twines her arm around his. For a while it’s just the quiet silence of her thinking and the soft chirping of crickets outside.

“Maybe,” she says eventually. “Maybe it would be easier or maybe it’d be harder. Maybe this world has something easier than we did, but maybe there’s a world out there that’s had it far worse. Hell, we’ve seen it.”

“Yeah, but-“ he starts but she stops him lifting her free hand to his lip to quiet him.

“No, no but’s, and hold in that joke you’re dying to make for a minute please,” she says with a teasing glint in her eyes as she drops her hand. He stays quiet even though he smiles just a bit. “We have the hand we were dealt, and yeah we could have done some things differently and sometimes I wish we both had.” She says emphasizing the both, never allowing him to take on all the blame of the things that have gotten in their way over the years.

“But we didn’t and I could spend days thinking about one thing or another that could be different, obsessing over all the worlds I know that might be out there, some that now I’ve seen. About how it could have been easier, or worse, but if I did that I’d forget to embrace what we have,” she says lifting up a hand to gently move along the stubble on John’s face. “It hasn’t been smooth sailing for us, it probably never will be, but it’s what we have. It’s us and I can’t change how it’s happened or what will happen, and honestly I don’t think I’d want to not in the long run.”

“Really?” he asks entwining his fingers with hers as her hand drops from his face.

“Really,” she says with an affirming nod. “Would you?”

“I mean I’d like to have a few less scars, maybe not so many near death experiences,” he says.

Zatanna huffs. “Well, okay, but where would be the fun in that.”

John laughs at that a low rumbling chuckle that he feels deep in his chest, the kind only she can bring out in him.

“It all got us here,” she says and John raises an eyebrow at her. “Well, maybe not specifically here since I’d really love to just go the fuck home, but you know here,” she emphasizes squeezing his fingers and using their joined hands to gesture between the two of them. “That’s all that really matters at the end of the day.”

She’s right he realizes, maybe it’s been a little fucked along the way, but the end destination has still been the same. It’s them. It’s always them. John resituates them so that she’s cradled more against his chest, his arms wrapped around her keeping her close.

“You’re right and you’re too damn good for me, you know that?” he says pressing a kiss to her hair. She pulls his arms tighter around her.

“I’m always right,” she says tilting her head back just enough so that she meets his eyes with a smile.

They sit quietly again John playing shapes on the palm of one of her hands.

“Plus, I don’t ever want to live in a world where you wear khaki cargo shorts,” Zatanna says suddenly tilting up her to look at him with a joking smile.

John laughs tilting his head back against the wall.

“Yeah, those are definitely a choice aren’t they,” he says still chuckling.

“You’d be a nightmare with that many pockets,” she muses. “Filling them with cigarettes and magical totems no one should be casually carrying around in their pockets.”

John huffs fake offended. “Hey now, I’d keep some snacks in one of those pockets too,” he defends. “You always get so hungry when we get stuck in earth hopping curses,” he teases with a smirk.

Zatanna giggles at that settling in even closer to him. “It burns a lot of calories.”

John smiles pressing another kiss to her hair just as the now familiar circular shaped glow of orange, red and yellow appears beneath them. He sits up more fully at the same time she does bracing his arms around her as the bottom drops out, sending them toppling into the next world.

And for the first time it feels a little less daunting, they’re halfway back to their lives. Their lives that he’s glad to have and wouldn’t trade for anything.

[even-after-a-millennia]

Here Through the Dark and Beautiful

The third and final part of my What We Do For Family series is done!  You can read it down below or over on ao3 here!

(Also, there’s a scene in a club and I definitely put together a self-indulgent playlist of what I wanted to play, so here that is as well.)

Five years into Nile Freeman’s immortality, her immortal family took a break from fighting and from each other.  Well, sort of.  Nicky and Joe went off to Malta, smiling profusely as they drove off.  Andy and Quynh were going to stay right where they were, in the safe house in Greece, where if they looked out the window, they could see the glittering sea.

Which left Nile and Booker undecided on what they were going to do.

Nile didn’t even consider going somewhere on her own.  She turned to him and shrugged.  “I’ve never been to France?”

He chuckled, looking relieved.  “Ma choupette, you will have to be a little more specific than that.”

She smiled, conceding the point.  “The Louvre?”

“Nerd!” Quynh called from where she was sitting on the couch, her wife’s legs in her lap as Andy sprawled across the cushions.

Nile very maturely did not stick her tongue out at Quynh.  She did wrinkle her nose at her, but that was not the same.

“Very well, Nile,” Booker said, smiling.  “I will take you to the Louvre.”

After they packed their bags and headed out the door, Nile began to realize just what she had agreed to.  The team had agreed to take a month off before they would reconvene at Copley’s house near London and get briefed on their new assignment.

So she would be spending a whole month with Booker.

Alone.

Which was fine!  It was!  It was just… once Nile had become an immortal and helped save Booker from Merrick, ever since that early morning conversation they’d had about taking care of their mental health, they had become friends.  Surrounded by couples who loved them, they were the two loners.  That morning’s conversation had been the first of many, spanning countless cups of coffee and missions.  At this point, spanning years.

Nile loved her whole immortal family.  She loved Nicky’s gentle warmth, his inability to let her go without food for a long period of time, his small, proud smile when she had finally disarmed him in a sword fight.  She loved Joe, who painted with her and prayed with her, who would sleepily be there for her when she awoke with a nightmare.  She loved Andy, her fierceness and her kindness, her mentor who listened when Nile spoke and asked Nile how to use technology.  She loved Quynh, her fellow trickster, who clothes shopped with her and let her feel like a sister again when they did mischief together.  

Nile loved Booker, who had been sober for four years now and worked every day to pull himself away from the darkness that had swallowed him five years ago.  Whose scars on his heart were so similar to her own.  Who understood when she gasped awake clutching her throat sometimes, even years after her first death, because he sometimes did the same.  Who felt the ache of missing his family in a way that echoed hers.

She loved all of them.

The trouble was, she was falling in love with Booker.  It had started slowly, based on their shared experiences and the friendship that they had built as the years had gone on, but she had felt herself start to fall for him about a year ago.  A mission had gone bad and she had died very slowly.  She had woken in the back of their escape vehicle with her head resting in Booker’s lap.  His eyes, filled with worry and then relief, were the first thing that she saw.  In that moment, she realized that she wanted to wake up looking at him, without having to die first, for the rest of her immortality.

And that terrified her a bit.

Nile was surrounded by some of the greatest love stories in history, not that history would ever know that.  She knew it.  She saw it.  A love so deep it could span centuries of disagreements and fights and deaths.  A love that could go to the bottom of the ocean and back.  And through all that, to still look at the person who was their everything with love and certainty.

It was awe-inspiring.

She just didn’t know if she could ever have that.

But with Booker, she wanted to try.  And that was what scared her.  

“You okay, Nile?  You’ve been quiet since we left,” Booker asked as they flew towards Paris.

“Hmm?  Oh, sorry.  Got a lot on my mind, I guess,” she said, trying to shrug it off.

“Wanna talk about it?” Booker asked, leaning closer until their shoulders brushed.

Nile smiled softly, but shook her head.  “Nah, just thinking of all the art I’m going to see soon.”

Booker looked at her like he knew that she was bullshitting, but didn’t call her out on it, for which she was grateful.  Even though they confided a lot in each other, they knew when not to press.

“Ah, yes.  What are you looking forward to seeing most?”

“You did not just ask me that.”

Booker chuckled, holding up his hands.  “Sorry, you know art isn’t my expertise.”

“Oh sure, mister forger, I’m sure there aren’t any art replicas out there that came from you,” Nile teased, poking him in the side.

Booker ducked his head.  “I plead the Fifth.”

“You’re not American.”

“You are, are you not?”

“Well… technically, I guess.”  Nile looked out the window, melancholy lancing through her.  “Don’t you have to go to your home country every once in a while to claim citizenship?”

She felt Booker’s hand on hers.  “I’m sorry, ma belle, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Nile took a deep breath and shook herself, trying to dispel the tidal wave of emotion that had hit her.  Her movement jostled Booker’s hand and he pulled away.

Damn.

“It’s fine.  I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“I understand.”

She knew he did.  Which is why she took a chance and slid a little closer, leaning her head on his shoulder.  He was tense for a moment, then relaxed as she settled in.

“Sleep, Nile.  I’ll wake you when we get there.”

“Thanks, Book,” Nile said, letting her eyes close and trying not to be obvious that she was breathing deeply, both to calm herself and to revel in the slightly pine-like smell that wafted off Booker’s neck.

________________________________________

Nile stood, ignoring the people walking around her, mouth open slightly as she stared at Nike’s statue.

“Isn’t it called The Winged Victory of Samothrace?” Booker asked from beside her, looking at the map in his hands.

Nile waved a hand at him, not looking away.  “Nike means victory, Book.  Keep up.”

“Ah.  Of course.”

Nile couldn’t stop looking at the statue.  “This has existed longer than Joe and Nicky.  It’s older than Joe and Nicky combined.”

“Still young compared to Andy, though.”

Again, Nile waved a hand at Booker.  “A lot of things are young compared to Andy, Book.  That’s not a fair comparison.”

“True.  I wonder if they have miniature versions of this in the gift shop,” Booker mused.

“Huh.  Maybe,” Nile said, finally turning away to grin at him.  “If not, I can just have you make one for me, huh?”

He laughed, throwing his head back.  “You are overestimating my abilities.”

She laughed with him as they started moving again.

There was so much to look at that Nile had only ever seen in books before.  It was almost overwhelming how much history they were looking at.  She was happy that she could tell Booker about a lot of the art, to the point that he put the map in his pocket so he could just listen to what she was saying.  Someone, another tourist, came up to her and asked her for more information once.  

Nile was having the time of her life.

Then, as they were walking through a crowd to get to the next exhibit, she glanced across the room. 

Standing there, unmistakably, was her brother.

Her hand shot out and grabbed Booker’s arm, gripping it tight.

“Nile?  What’s wrong?” he said, going instantly on alert.

“That-”  She couldn’t get the words out.  She cleared her throat.  “That’s my brother over there.”

“What?!”

Booker had turned to look too, but none of that mattered.  Jordan turned, maybe sensing the eyes on him, and looked directly at Nile.  And she got to watch as confusion, recognition, and devastation crossed over his face.

“NILE!” he shouted as he started to rush toward them.

“We need to leave,” she said through numb, unmoving lips.

“Go,” Booker said, putting something in her hand.  “I’ll be right behind you.”

Quynh had taught her how to melt into a crowd and disappear her first year of being an immortal.  Physically, it was so easy.  Mentally, every step away from Jordan hurt her.  But she couldn’t tell him the truth.  She couldn’t come back to her family after five years of being dead and expect them to be okay.  She couldn’t watch them get old, or sick, and die in front of her.  Not while she didn’t age a day.  It was better if she just stayed dead to them.  

But God, it hurt.

She got far enough away to feel safe and ducked behind a pillar.  She turned to Booker, only he wasn’t there.

“Book?”

But he was nowhere to be found.  She felt something in her hand and looked down, remembering that he had put something there before she had left.

A comm earbud?

She quickly put it in her ear and heard her brother’s voice shout her name again.  Nile sagged against the wall, a hand over her heart.

“Hey, man, can I help you?” she heard Booker say, only he didn’t sound like Booker.  He sounded… American?  What the hell?

“My sister, I just saw her here.  Did you see her?  Black woman, slim, with braids.  Name of Nile Freeman?” her brother demanded.

“Nile Freeman?  Wow, that’s not a name I’ve heard in a while.”

“You know her?” Jordan asked.

“I did.  We were in the Marines together.  We were on the same base.  I’m really sorry, man.  She was an amazing person.”

Jordan didn’t say anything.  Nile strained her ears to hear anything.  What was Booker doing?!

It sounded like Jordan let out a gust of air.  “Yeah.  She was.  I’m sorry, I was sure I’d actually seen her this time.”

God, hearing that, Nile’s heart shattered.

“Grief sucks like that,” Booker said, and his voice was rough.

“Yeah, it really fucking does.  I’m Jordan, by the way.  Nile’s younger brother,” her brother said.

Booker huffed out a laugh.  “Did your parents love rivers or something, to name both their kids after two?”

“My dad’s idea.  My mom humored him.”

“From what Nile told me, she is a formidable woman.  I’m Seb.  Nice to meet you, Jordan.”

Nile jerked at Booker giving a form of his real name.  Seriously, what was he doing?!

“Nice to meet you too.  So you were on the same base as Nile?”

“Yeah, for what- eight months?  I got shipped home just before...  Well.  You know.  Heard about it from a buddy of mine.  I’m truly sorry.”

There was silence, and Nile mentally begged Booker to keep talking.  Luckily, he did.

“Nile was one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.  She radiated that to everyone.  Kept candy in one of her TAC vest pockets to give to the kids she met.  Strong too, just like her mom.  I was lucky to be able to work with her, however limited a time it was.”

Jordan let out a gust of air.  

“Nile would have loved it here,” he said.  “She wanted to go to art school after her deployment, did she tell you that?  Was always into this stuff.  My mom didn’t know much about it, but wanted her to chase her passion.  Just, we couldn’t afford it.  So Nile enlisted.  Scared the shit out of Mom, not that she would ever admit it.”

“How’s she doing?  Your mom,” Booker asked.

“She’s a fighter, just like Nile was.  There are still hard days, but she can look at Nile’s photo next to Dad’s and keep going.  We can talk about her a bit more, now.”

Nile knew where her dad’s photo was.  On her mom’s dresser, so every morning and every night, she would see him.

Now Nile’s picture was next to her dad’s.

She couldn’t stop the sob that emerged from deep in her chest.

“Could I get a picture?  My roommate will never believe that I ran into Nile Freeman’s brother otherwise,” Booker said.

It sounded like he was distracted, wrapping up the conversation.

“Of course!”

“Hey man, good talking to you,” Booker said, voice warm.

“Yeah, thanks for the stories.  Gotta keep her alive somehow, right?” Jordan said and Nile focused on his voice as hard as she could.  This would probably be the last time she heard it.

“Definitely.  Someone as amazing as Nile should never fully die.  Take care, Jordan,” Booker said.

“You too, Seb.  See you around.”

And he was gone.

Nile couldn’t stop sobbing.

“Nile, where are you?  Nile!  Please, you have to answer me,” Booker said over the comm.

Nile looked around the column she was hiding behind and gasped out the closest piece of art’s name.  

“I’m coming, don’t move.”

A hysterical laugh broke through the sobs for a moment.  Where would she even go?

Then he was in front of her.

“Oh, Nile.  Can I hold you?” Booker asked, his voice breaking.

Nile threw herself into his arms and truly let go.  She buried her face into Booker’s chest, hoping to contain the sounds of her sobs.  They were secluded enough to avoid awkward stares, but she was still aware of the spectacle she must be making of herself.  She started to take deep breaths, trying to stop crying.  

It was only when she started to calm that she could hear Booker’s soft murmurs of “I’m sorry, you’ll be okay, I know how you feel and I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, ma chérie, we’ll get through this together…”

It only made her hold him tighter.

Finally, she calmed and straightened from being hunched into Booker’s chest.

“I’m so sorry, Nile, I should have just come with you.  I thought- well, it doesn’t matter.  I’m truly sorry,” Booker said.

When she looked up at him, she saw his eyes were wet too, a few tears making their way down his cheeks.

She shook her head, reaching up to wipe his tears.  “You gave me my brother back, Book, for however short a time.  Thank you.”

Her hands were still on his face, cupping his jaw.  She slid them over his jaw, to the back of his neck, and pulled slightly.  Booker was almost half a foot taller than her, but he compressed himself to be shorter until their forehead met.

She closed her puffy eyes and just stayed there a moment.

“Thank you,” she said again, whispering this time.

“You’re welcome.”  

She felt the puff of his breath against her face as he spoke.  It would be so easy to lean a little bit more in, close that distance...

But she couldn’t.  Not right now, when she still felt like she was dying a bit inside.

Pulling away, she said, “I think we should go.  That okay with you?”

“Of course, Nile.  You didn’t even have to ask.”

They got back to his flat, not talking as they walked in.

“You should know, I recorded the conversation with Jordan on my phone.  And um, here,” Booker said, holding out his phone.  “I thought you would want to have this.”

Nile took the phone, knowing what she would see.  It didn’t hurt any less as she looked at Jordan’s face, smiling with his arm around Booker’s shoulder.

She was crying again before she even realized it.

“God, Book.  I miss him,” she sobbed.  Her legs gave out and Booker scooped her into his arms and carried her to the couch.  He sat and pulled her close, starting to murmur comfort again as she lost herself once again.

It took much longer to even begin to pull herself together this time.  It was dark out and she felt exhausted, mentally and physically.  Booker’s leg had to be asleep underneath her, but he just kept brushing his hand up and down her spine, trying to soothe her.

“I think we should leave Paris tomorrow,” she said, her voice hoarse from crying.

“That would probably be best,” Booker agreed.  “Where would you like to go?”

Nile buried her face into his chest, overwhelmed.  “Can I decide later?”

“Of course, Nile.”

“Or you could choose this time,” she said, voice muffled by his shirt.

He paused, thinking.  “We have a safe house near Amsterdam.  There are many art museums there, including the Van Gogh Museum.  If you would like.”

This is why I love you.  The words are on the tip of her tongue, but she keeps them there.

She pushed herself up so that she was able to look at him.  His hair was flopping into his face and she didn’t stop herself from pushing it back in place.  Booker’s gaze changed somehow, from caring to… a closed off kind of caring, where he wasn’t sure what was going on, but still cared about her.

“I would love that.  Thank you, Sebastien,” she said.  Then, before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

She pulled away quickly and didn’t look at him as she stood up.  “I’m gonna go lie down, try to sleep for a bit.  Can you make arrangements for Amsterdam?”

He grunted in affirmation and she fled down the hall.  She couldn’t stop herself from glancing back before she left the room, only to see Booker staring at nothing, his hand on the cheek she had kissed.

Well, that’s promising.

It wasn’t until she was in bed that she realized she had called him Sebastien, not Booker.

Well...

Shit.

_____________________________________________

They didn’t talk much as they traveled to the Netherlands.  Nile didn’t mind, she was too tired to tackle any of the emotional options that could have been topics of discussion.  She could feel Booker glancing at her every now and then, but she just pretended to fall asleep against the train’s window.  

She couldn’t consider falling asleep on his shoulder again.  She was already feeling fragile.  Putting herself out there was not in the cards right now.

They took a taxi to get to the safe house from the train station, paying the driver in cash when they arrived.  Booker thanked him in Dutch, which was not a language that Nile had started to learn yet, and they walked up the steps to the front door.

“Booker, wait,” Nile said, grabbing his arm.  She had seen a figure through the door’s frosted glass.  

There was someone inside the house.

“It’s okay, Nile,” Booker said.  “It’s just-”

Andy opened the door.  “Hey, kid.”

Nile blinked at her.  “You’re supposed to be in Greece.”

Andy shrugged.  “All that sun wasn’t agreeing with me,” she said drily.

Nile turned on Booker.  “Book…”

He held up his hands.  “I just told them what happened.  They wanted to be here for you.”

“They?!”

“Hello, little sister,” Quynh said, coming forward from behind Andy.

Nile swallowed hard at the endearment, emotion swelling in her chest.  “Quynh…”

“May I?” Quynh asked, holding out her arms.

Nile could only nod as she stepped forward into Quynh’s embrace.  Andy’s hand came to clasp Nile's shoulder as they hugged, and Nile took a deep, shaky breath.

She disengaged, wiping a stray tear that had leaked out.  “I’m glad, I thought when Book said ‘they’ he meant-”

A car door slammed behind them.  

“We’re here!  Sorry we’re late, Nicky was driving for a bit and suddenly we were in Belgium,” Joe’s voice rang out from behind them and Nile turned to see him and Nicky coming up the walkway.  Their car was parked haphazardly at the curb.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she muttered, tearing up against her will.

As Nicky and Joe got closer, she took a deep breath, overwhelmed.  “I need a minute,” she said abruptly, darting past Quynh and Andy into the house.  She went into the first room she could find and shut the door.

Turns out she was in the bathroom.

She gripped the edges of the sink, hunched over the basin.

Nile wasn’t entirely sure what she was feeling, the emotions were twisted inside her so much that she couldn’t parse them out.  She made herself breathe and think. 

Okay, Nile.  What’s wrong?

She thought about the most obvious answer, her brother’s face as they made eye contact, and flinched away from the memory.  She had missed her family for so long that the emotional wound had scabbed over.  It was always there, she always felt the pain and some times were worse than others, but she was able to keep going.  Seeing Jordan had ripped that scab off.  She felt like she was bleeding internally.  Even though she was glad she had been able to hear Booker talk to him… even that hurt.  She was aching for her family.

So why was she not glad to see her immortal family?

She hadn’t asked them to come.  Hadn’t wanted to bother them from their vacations.  And she knew that she could handle this by herself.  She had survived the pain of losing her brother and mom this long, why did they seem to think that she couldn’t get through this?

Oh.

Nile understood what she was feeling now.

She was sad, yes.  But she was also angry.

When she had first joined Andy’s little band of immortal warriors, she had felt the difference of age between them and herself.  Andy to this day called her “kid.”  Thank God Booker had gone away from saying the same, that would have made any feelings she had for him incredibly awkward.  It wasn’t like she wasn’t aware of how young she was compared to the others.  But she was a goddamn adult.  She had gone through loss before and knew she would go through more, but she also knew that she could get through that herself.  For everyone to drop everything and come here made her feel like they thought she couldn’t.

That was what was rubbing her the wrong way here.

Nile took a deep breath and turned on the hot water.  She found a washcloth in the cupboard under the sink and wet it once the water was warm.  Slowly, gently, she washed her face, breathing deeply as she did so.  She wrung out the washcloth and dabbed her face dry on the hand towel hanging on the wall.

Then she looked back into the mirror.

The anger had lessened, now that it had been acknowledged.  The pain was still there, right below the surface.  But she straightened her shoulders and nodded to herself.

She’s got this.

The other immortals had moved from the doorway into the living room.  None of them were sitting, though, and they all turned immediately when she walked into the room.

“Sorry about that, needed a second to go to the bathroom.  Hey guys!” she said, opening her arms and pulling Joe into a hug.

“Nile-” Nicky said as she turned to embrace him as well, so she hugged him extra tight, just to quiet him a moment.

“You guys didn’t have to rush here and ruin your vacations,” she said, making sure to keep the smile on her face, to keep the edge out of her voice.

“Nile-”

“You couldn’t have even gotten to Malta before you were turning around to come here,” Nile continued as she pulled away from Nicky.

“Nile, per favore,” Nicky said beseechingly.

Nile swallowed and looked at him hesitantly.  His eyes were attentive and tired.  “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

Nile slumped into herself.  She sat on the chair, away from the others and they followed suit, sitting around the room.  Nicky, Joe, Quynh, and Andy squeezed onto the couch and Booker took the other chair, the closest seat to Nile.

“No,” she answered honestly, feeling weighed down with grief and anger.  She forced her chin up, her shoulders square.  “But I will be.”

There were nods around the room.  Nile made eye contact with Booker and could see the understanding radiating from his eyes.  She gave him a small smile.

“We should have asked this from the beginning.  What do you need, Nile?  What can we do?” Joe asked.

She considered.  What did she want?  There were hard answers to that question.  She wanted to see her mother.  She wanted to hug her brother.

She wanted to forget for a bit that she was immortal, and all the hurt that came with that.

Nile went with the easiest answer.

“I wanna go dancing,” she declared, raising her chin as she said it.  

The others blinked.  

Booker let out a chuckle.  “We are in Amsterdam.  I’m sure we can find somewhere to dance.”

“Don’t you think that we will stand out?” Nicky asked.

Nile shrugged.  “Honestly, probably not.  You just jump up and down all night, that would be enough.  I’m sure you can figure out grinding in about two seconds or less, so that’s two dance moves right there, one for slow dances and one for fast ones!”

Andy shrugged.  “Alright, but don’t get mad if we are bad.”

“We’re really going?” Quynh asked, looking excited.

Everyone looked around and nodded.

Nicky sighed.  “For Nile, yes.”

“For Nile!” Quynh shouted, raising a fist in the air.  Nile smiled, thinking how many times Quynh might have rallied that way throughout the centuries.  She shook herself.  No, tonight was to forget about immortality.

“Alright, we’re going to need supplies to do this right,” Nile said, pulling out her phone and starting to write a list.  “I’ve got an outfit that’ll do, but I’ll need to look at your guy’s luggage to see if something works.  Book, you brought that dark blue button down, right?”

He nodded.

Nile stared at her phone as she said, “Your eyes pop with that and it makes your muscles look fantastic, so that would be a good choice.  The pants you’re wearing will be fine and your boots.  Quynh, can you show me you and Andy’s options?  Joe, I’ll send you the list.  Get Nicky something that isn’t a cotton t-shirt when you’re out.”

Joe grinned at his husband who looked less enthused at the idea.  “With pleasure.”

“Okay, let’s get going!”

Nile helped pick out Quynh and Andy’s looks as Joe and Nicky grocery shopped.  Joe and Nicky brought back groceries, including alcohol, and outfits for themselves.  The grey short sleeved button down did wonderful things to Nicky’s eyes and Joe went with a black tank top, which showed off his shoulders.  

Sidling up to Booker as he helped put away groceries, Nile whispered, “Ten bucks that Joe and Nicky start defiling the dance floor?”

Booker laughed loudly.  “I don’t make bets that I know I will lose, Nile.  That’s Nicky’s job.”

Nile pouted, but soon rallied.  “We are all gonna look so good, people are gonna be so jealous when they realize Joe and Nicky, and Andy and Quynh are together!”

“Ah,” Booker said, looking down at the counter.  “Nile.  If you wish to go home with someone tonight, I only ask that you keep your phone on you.  Just in case.”

Nile blinked.  She hadn’t even thought about that.  Hadn’t planned to try to pick anyone up.  She was trying to forget about her immortality, right?  Just for the night?  That could be a good way to help forget.  But… she didn’t want to.

“Thanks, but that’s not what I want from tonight,” she replied, keeping her tone light.

Booker nodded.  She did notice his shoulders relaxed as she walked away.

They had some down time before they should start to get ready, but Nile couldn’t settle.  She ended up doing her eye makeup while she waited, wanting something to do.

Andy knocked on the open door of the bathroom to announce that supper was ready.

“Awesome, just gimme a minute and I’ll be good to go,” Nile said, curling her eyelashes.

Andy leaned against the doorway.  “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth,” she said.

“For what?” Nile said, now putting on mascara.

“For treating you like a kid sometimes.  When I first saw Joe’s drawing of you, I thought, ‘she’s just a baby,’ but you’ve proved time and time again that you can handle yourself.  We should have considered that.  I think,” Andy cut off, sighing.  “I think we wanted to be there for you, the way we hadn’t been for Booker.  To make up for not noticing how bad it was for him.”

Andy looked at Nile, who stared at her, shocked and touched.  “We were thinking of ourselves and what we needed more than you.  That wasn’t fair to either of you, and I’m sorry.”

Nile put the wand back in the mascara tube and dropped it on the counter, not caring where it fell.  She hopped off the counter and hugged Andy.  She felt Andy’s hand cup the back of her neck and relaxed into the embrace.

“Thank you for that, Andy,” Nile murmured.

She let out a breath and felt the last traces of her anger fade away.

___________________________________

Nile was decidedly tipsy as they made their way to the nightclub that Booker had found for their night out.  With her fast healing, she’d had to pregame a lot more than back when she was younger and well, mortal - no, she wasn’t thinking about that - and had drunk about half a bottle of vodka to feel as loose and happy as she did right now.

Booker himself hadn’t touched the alcohol and Nile felt a stab of guilt for getting so much, when he had been so good at staying sober.

He must have noticed her expression, as he shook his head at her.  “It’s fine, Nile.  I want you to have a fun night, and if you wish to imbibe, I understand.”  He gave her a crooked grin.  “I won’t give in to peer pressure.”

She was suddenly overwhelmed with pride and affection for him and didn’t stop herself from going up on tiptoe and kissing him on the cheek.  “Proud of you, Book,” she murmured as she pulled away.

Everyone else in their immortal family saw it, but no one said anything, for which Nile was somewhat grateful.

She also really wanted to talk to someone about Booker.  She was relieved when Quynh leaned against the doorway, much like her wife had done a few hours ago, and asked Nile as she was doing her contouring, “So, you and Booker, huh?”

Nile bobbled the brush she had been using but caught it before it could truly fall.  She turned and closed the door, then turned on some random playlist on her phone, then turned back to Quynh.

“Quynh, I don’t know what to do,” she said honestly.

“Talk to me, little sister,” Quynh said, reaching out to hold one of Nile's hands.

Nile took a deep breath.  She hadn’t ever said any of this out loud and the prospect of it being out there, acknowledged by someone else, was terrifying and exhilarating.

“I love him, Quynh,” she said in a rush.  Her eyes grew wide and she felt tears start and covered her mouth with her free hand.  “Holy shit, I haven’t said that out loud before.”

“How’s it feel?” Quynh asked with a small smile, like she was holding it in until she heard Nile’s answer.

“Amazing,” Nile said, lowering her hand so that Quynh could see her teary, but wide, smile.

Quynh’s smile mirrored her own.

“I love Sebastien le Livre,” Nile murmured, looking at the door.

“Do you have a plan?” Quynh asked.

Nile shook her head.  “What if…  I mean, he was married before.  I don’t even know if he feels the same.  Or if he does, if he’ll let himself start anything.”

“Well, Nile,” Quynh said, “it sounds like you should sit down and talk with him.  Talk about what you want.  See if he wants the same.  At least after that, you will know.”

Quynh’s grin returned.  “But maybe do that later.  Tonight, we dance!”

The atmosphere in the club was exactly what Nile needed as they walked in.  It was dark and the lights flashed often enough to give people momentary identities before they were mostly cloaked in darkness again.  The music was pumping out of huge speakers.  

The other immortals didn’t look as enthused as Nile was, but they dutifully followed her onto the dance floor.  It was just EDM playing at the moment, so Nile took the time to show a few moves that Quynh took great pleasure in replicating.

Soon though, a new song came on and Quynh’s eyes lit up with an idea.  She grabbed Andy and they started to swing dance, right there in the club.  It fit strangely well with the music, even though it was very much a modern song.  Joe and Nicky started to do the same, grins on their face.  Booker held out a hand to Nile and she took it eagerly.  She replicated the steps that Andy and Quynh were doing and followed Booker’s lead, laughing loudly when they got off from the beat and Booker swore as he spun her out and back to reset them.

By the time that song faded out, Nile was breathing heavily and her cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

The next song came on and it was slower, at least at the beginning, and Nile heard the lyrics, “I pray to God, I just don’t know anymore,” and felt like a sledgehammer had hit her over the head.  That had happened that time in-

No, tonight was about forgetting!  She wasn’t going to think about that!

She danced noncommittally to that song, even when it picked up.  The next song started up and Nile recognized it instantly.  “Turn Down for What” had been featured at far too many dances for her NOT to know it.  

Nile took great pleasure in shaking her hips from side to side as the song continued. 

“TURN DOWN FOR WHAT?!” she roared along with most of the club.

The moment that the next song’s first notes came on, the club went wild.

People all around the world went crazy for Beyonce.

Nile wrinkled her nose at the line about Monica Lewinsky, cause she was a cool lady it turned out, and didn’t deserve to be turned into a synonym for a blow job.  Otherwise, she rolled her body and even let a guy come up behind her and grind with her.  The moment that the French section of the song came on, though, her concentration broke and she looked for Booker.  He was bobbing from side to side and as the French section continued, his head cocked to the side and his eyebrows went up.  He looked over at her and she smirked at him, gesturing to the part of the dancefloor that Nicky and Joe were currently defiling, just as she had predicted.

He looked over, then back at her, and shook his head.  She could tell that he was laughing, his shoulders going up and down even though she couldn’t hear him from this far away.

She broke away from the guy she had been dancing with, giving him a small smile, and made her way to Booker.  As she moved, the song changed and she grinned.

“You know when I said you just jump up and down?  This is a great example of that!” Nile shouted to her little group.

The entire club was bouncing as the chorus rang out.  If Nile didn’t heal, she knew her calves would be sore tomorrow.

No, she wasn’t thinking about it!

Nile let herself dance mindlessly through the next few songs, not understanding one song as it was in Italian and willfully ignoring the next one that sang about being lonely together.  She didn’t want to think about why she was lonely.

Then the next song came on and she started jumping along until she heard the lyrics, “Party til we die!”

Except she couldn’t die.  She was immortal and she had lost her family just as much as they had lost her and God, it hurt.

She didn’t realize that she was just standing there, staring into space, until Joe’s hand brushed against her arm.  Nile shook herself and shouted, “I’m gonna go get another drink!”

She made her way through the crowd to get to the bar before any of them could respond.  Once she got there though, she ended up just asking for water.  She didn’t want to follow the path of self-loathing and self-destruction that Booker had taken before he had nearly destroyed himself entirely.  While it might be melodramatic to think that a drink in a club would lead down that path, Nile didn’t want to push herself.

She did, however, block out the rest of the song until it finished.

“I love my friends and my friends love me.  Like all the time, they’re right beside me.  We’ve got each other for eternity.  Like all the time, they’re right beside me,” the new song sang.

Nile let out a shaky breath.

She wasn’t alone.

She turned and saw her new family across the room.  They looked back at her with love in their eyes, and suddenly, there was too much space between her and them.  She pushed gently through the crowd until she was back in their little bubble.

They closed rank around her and wrapped their arms around her.  They swayed slowly to the song even though it was fast paced and Nile felt so loved.

“Thanks, guys,” Nile said, smiling around at her immortal family.

They broke apart for the next song and Quynh grabbed Nile’s hand so they would dance together.  Nile ended up cackling at the exaggerated come hither faces that Quynh made at her and pulled Quynh in for a hug.  

“Thank you, Quynh.  For being my big sister and for just.  Well.  Being here.”

Quynh’s arm wrapped around her and pulled her in tight.

The song that came on next was slow and beautiful and as Nile listened to the lyrics, she knew she had to find Book.  He was watching Nicky and Joe sway back and forth with a small smile on his face.  She walked up and tapped him on the shoulder.

He looked at her and his smile gentled even more.

“Wanna dance?” she asked.

“Yes, ma belle, I would love to dance with you,” he answered.

“I never thought in a million years, in a million years, oh It would be you,” the song rang out.

Nile hands ended up on the back of Booker’s neck, as Booker’s hands stayed firmly on her waist.  She did see his eye flutter shut as her fingers scratched through the short hairs there, and she smirked.

“I just can't get you out my mind, So infatuated.”

Okay, the lyrics were a bit too on the nose, but she just pulled Booker closer and let them sway.  She could hear his heart from where her head rested against his chest, and was suddenly so glad that their immortality existed because there was no other way that they would have been able to meet.

She couldn’t stop thinking about it.  Immortality was a fact of her life, like the fact her dad was dead and the sky was blue.  Some things couldn’t be changed and fighting her immortality would only hurt herself and her new family.  She had seen the worst of what fighting his immortality had done to Booker.

She would make a different path for herself.

It would be painful and there would be days that she would feel like she was dying inside.  But she knew that she could do it.  She was strong.  She had already been through so much and she was still here.  And she had her family to reach out to.

Nile had Booker to reach out to.

The song wound down and Nile placed a kiss where she had just been resting her head.  Booker’s hands tightened minutely, then he let go.

“Forever young, I wanna be forever young.”

Okay.  Who had chosen this song.  Nile started laughing and she couldn’t stop.  Her hooting attracted some attention but she didn’t care.  The irony was just too much.

“You good?” Andy asked, smiling slightly as she raised an eyebrow.

“Yes!  Sorry, I just - ahahaha - this song!” Nile answered incoherently.

She calmed as the song continued, though giggled as Joe busted out some truly ridiculous disco moves.  Nicky looked at him with love in his eyes, even as he too, laughed at his husband.

 Nile looked around and felt suddenly content.  She hadn’t been expecting it.  But as she watched her little family indulge her need for normality, or what used to be her version of normality, she felt okay again. 

She reached out and grabbed Booker’s hand and squeezed.  He looked startled at first, then saw her smile and returned it without thinking.  

“Home we’ll goooooo, home we’ll go.”

Nile turned her grin to the entire group and nodded.

“I’m ready to go home.”

_____________________________________

It didn’t take long for Booker and Nile to be the only ones left in the living room when they got home.  Nicky and Joe were up the stairs in a flash, and Nile definitely saw a little ass grabbage as they made their way up to the main bedroom.  Quynh and Andy had some water, then Quynh gave Andy a look and they were off to the spare bedroom.

“The couch is a pullout, by the way,” Andy threw over her shoulder as they went.

Nile laughed.  “Cheers.”

She turned to Booker, still laughing, but he was looking at the couch with trepidation.  

“I can take the floor,” he offered.

“Book,” she huffed.

“It is the gentlemanly thing to do,” he insisted.

She rolled her eyes.  “I don’t remember asking you to be a gentleman, Sebastien.”

His eyes darkened at her use of his real name.  He swallowed and looked away.

Dammit.

“If that’s what you want, Book, I’m not gonna stop you,” Nile said, going to her bag.  “I’m gonna get ready for bed.”

She emerged, clean and without makeup, about half an hour later.  The bed was out and Booker was sitting at the dining table, a cup of untouched tea in front of him.  Nile settled in the chair next to him and stole the tea, taking a sip.

“Talk to me,” she said.

She had said the same thing so many times over the years that they had known each other.  They had been there for each other while they were both going through therapy, on anniversaries of things that made it hard to get out of bed that day, and in so many other ways.

He let out a gust of breath.  “Tonight was fun for you, right?”

Nile considered.  “It was hard at times.  I had gone to forget about immortality and my family, only to realize that there was no forgetting.  But you guys being there helped.  It was nice to dance.  So yeah, I had fun.”

Booker nodded.  “I noticed, there was that man you were, uh, dancing with.  You didn’t change your mind?  Want to go home with him?”

“Nah,” Nile said.  She decided to take a chance.  “Even when I was dancing with him, I started thinking about you.”

He stared at her.  “Me?”

“Yeah, Seb.  I don’t think that going home with that guy would have been very fulfilling.  I think...” she said slowly as she stared down into Booker’s cup of tea, slightly anxious, “I think that no one out there could compare to who I came home with anyway.”

She plucked up her nerve and looked right at Booker when she finished speaking.  He was staring at her, eyes wide.

“Ma chérie, you don’t believe-”

“You calling me a liar, Sebastien?” Nile said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“No, I would never, but-  I mean - I’m just.  Nile,” he said, flabbergasted.

She leaned towards him, putting a hand on his arm.  “You’re worth a whole lot more than you think, Book.  I see how hard you try to be better, for yourself and for everyone else.  I see how much your demons cling and how you still get up every day and keep going.  I see you.  And I think you’re worth everything.”

Her heart was pounding.  This was as close to a declaration of her feelings as she had ever come to.  Though he had given promising signs in the past, there was no actual guarantee that Booker felt the same towards her.

“Nile, mon ange,” Booker breathed, pulling her close and resting his forehead against her.  “Forgive me, I am a little overwhelmed.”

“Take your time, Book,” Nile said sincerely, closing her eyes and listening to her heart beating and his breathing.

They sat there silently for a while, forehead to forehead.  As time passed, Nile calmed and all she felt was content.

He reached up and stroked her cheek as he pulled his head slightly away from hers.  “I think that I started to fall for you the moment that you pushed Merrick out of the window and fell to the street with him,” he admitted.  “I fought it for a long time, because of shame.  Shame in myself.  Shame at what my family would think.  And then,” he stopped, looking away from Nile and took a breath, blowing it out in a gust.  “I finally talked about my feelings for you with the therapist that you helped me find.”

Book turned to look her in the eye and Nile felt like she could melt at the warmth in his gaze.  “She said that loving you wasn’t replacing the ones that I had loved before.  That I could love them and love you.  I don’t have to choose between one and the other.  And suddenly, I heard my Marie’s voice in my head for the first time in a century.”

His eyes filled with tears and Nile reached up and cupped his cheeks, wiping a tear that fell.  He smiled gently at her and pushed on.  “She told me that I was the love of her life, but I will live many lifetimes, and she didn’t want me to be alone.  I used to hear her all the time, before.  She was my conscience and my guiding light.  Ever since I lost her, and our boys, I’ve been lost.  I love our immortal family, please don’t mistake me.  But I used to feel alone, even when they were all in the room.  That feeling led to terrible things.  And then you led my new family to me and saved me.  And since then, I’ve found a new source of light.”

Nile’s eyes filled with tears too.  “Sebastien…”

“Mon dieu, Nile, I love when you say my name,” Booker breathed.

She grinned.  “You gonna kiss me, Sebastien?”

“Mon bonheur…”  His eyes were wide and she could see his heart in them.

“I don’t know that one, Seb.  You’re gonna have to translate.”

“My happiness,” Sebastien said with a small smile.  

Nile smiled and her eyes crinkled, it was so wide.  The tears that had collected in them spilled over and she realized that Sebastien was crying too.

His hand cupped her cheek gently, almost reverently, and they closed the distance between them.  At first, their lips only pressed together.  Then Nile’s hand came up to the back of Booker’s neck to pull him closer and the dynamic changed.  It was still slow but their mouths moved together.  Booker’s tongue laved at her lower lip.  Nile trapped Booker’s lower lip between hers and sucked it into her mouth.  She remembered how much he seemed to like it when she ran her fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck and did so again, then gave a soft pull.

He shuddered.

“Seb,” she whispered, kissing his cheek and then leaning closer to speak into his ear.  “We don’t have to do anything tonight, but do you want to go lie down?”

Booker nodded eagerly.  

The pull out bed wasn’t very comfortable.  But Nile lay half on top of Booker and he pulled her close, kissing behind her ear, down her jaw, and back to her lips.  And then everything else didn’t matter.

She woke up the next day still in his arms.  Remembering the thought she’d had, realizing she wanted to wake up looking at him for the rest of her immortality, Nile smiled.  

This morning was the start of an eternity of waking up together.

She kissed his chest before extracting herself from his arms.  He grumbled in his sleep, then settled.

Quynh and Nicky were already in the kitchen when she stumbled in.  Quynh smiled widely at her and Nicky raised an eyebrow.

“Hi guys…” Nile said warily.  The look on their faces made her want to go crawl back into bed.

“So, do you want us to clear out today so you can start your sexcation?” Quynh asked with a shit eating grin on her face.

“Oh my god,” Nile said.  She hadn’t even had coffee yet.

She filled a cup and chugged it.  Nicky’s eyebrow joined its fellow near his hairline.

Nile set the cup down.  “Maybe.  We aren’t there yet.  But I’d rather not get there with you guys in the next room.”  She refilled the cup and started drinking again, slower this time.  “Not like you don’t have sexcations to get to of your own.”

Quynh nodded and Nicky’s eyebrows finally went down as the corners of his lips curled up.

“Also, that pull out is made out of lumps and I’d rather have a better bed for our first time.  Though I don’t really care about the location that much.  Just that it’ll be him,” Nile said thoughtfully.  

There was a sound of someone choking from the hallway.  Nile turned to see Booker standing there, his face going a deep red color.

“Good morning,” she said, ignoring the fact that he had heard her.  “Want some coffee?”

“Nile,” he said, his voice rough from sleep and emotion.

“Yes, Sebastien?”

“I-  You-  Merde,” he hissed, taking two steps and leaning down to kiss her where she sat.  She met his lips gladly.  This was no gentle press.

Well.  It seems once she got passed the gentlemanly facade, they could really have some fun.

She pulled away from him long enough to look at Quynh and Nicky and raise an eyebrow.  “Don’t you have somewhere to be?  People to get out of bed, woo, and get into a different bed at a different place?  Please?”

Quynh laughed.  “Subtle, little sister.”  She stood and flapped her hands at Booker until he took a step back.  “Sisters before misters,” she teased before she gave Nile a hug.  “We’ll be out of the house in less than a half an hour.  Think you can wait that long?”

Nile giggled, then nodded.  “Thank you, Quynh.  I love you.”

Nicky was next, once Quynh pulled away.  He kissed her forehead.  “We’ll see you in a month, Nile,” he said, his eyes smiling at her.

“Enjoy Malta.”

He smirked.  “We will.”

Nile stayed at the table and Booker made her toast and eggs.  Quynh and Andy were out the door first, Andy stopping to give both of them hugs on the way out.  Joe took longer to rouse, so Nicky was going to drive first.

“We’ll call you for directions when we end up in Lithuania,” Joe said with a sleepy smile as they said goodbye.

Nile laughed.  “See you soon.  Love you guys.”

“Love you, our little river!” Joe called as he got into the vehicle.

She shook her head at them but waved as they drove away.

Closing the door, she found Booker doing the dishes from breakfast.  She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his stomach.

A sudsy hand rested against where hers were clasped.

Nile let out a huge sigh.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, nuzzling his back.  “Sometimes it just shocks me the extremes of emotions that people can feel at once.”

“Talk to me,” he said and she smiled and pressed a kiss against his spine.

“I love this family.  So much.  And they exasperate me and challenge me and take care of me and I love them.”  She took a deep breath, then forged on.  “I love my family.  I miss them so badly sometimes it makes my chest ache, and I know that pain will never fully go away.  But I’ll carry it with me cause otherwise, I can’t carry my love for them too.”

She paused and raised on tiptoe to kiss his neck.  “I love you,” she said.  “And that feels a bit like a miracle still.  Maybe someday it’ll feel as naturally as breathing like it seems to be for the others.  But for now, I just want to revel in it.”

Booker was shaking.  Nile could feel it against her chest.

“Seb?  You okay?”

He sniffled.  “Oui, mon bonheur. Ça va bien,” he murmured.

He turned in her arms until she could see the tears on his face.  “You just put how I feel into words.  I love our new family.  I miss Marie and our boys.”  He took a deep breath and looked down at her.  “And I love you.  I love you so much.”

“Seb…”

They pulled each other close and Nile let her own tears come.

Immortality would bring with it times that were hard and times that will be beautiful.  She knew she could handle them.  Especially with her family by her side.  Especially with Sebastien with her.

“Oh, by the way,” she said, pulling back from him a bit.  “I think I’m finally going to go to art school.”

She grinned.  “Wanna model for me?”

Translations: Ma choupette - my little cabbage, in an endearing way Ma belle - my beautiful Per favore - please Ma chérie - my darling mon ange - my angel Mon dieu - my God Mon bonheur - my happiness Merde - shit Oui, mon bonheur. Ça va bien - Yes, my happiness. I'm okay

[super-hero-girls-netflix]

How about both if you want? If not you can choose.

Emotional questionnnnn: What if a superhero died (including Batman and Superman cause why not >:))?

Uhmm...I'm going to talk mostly about if they just witnessed the death of the others since I don't think I'm ready to unpack the emotional baggage of killing a friend. ( But if you also about a specific kill with specific details on how it happened you can bet I'll give you a specific answer.)

It's clear in the aftermath of Superman vs Barman that Superman's death would take a toll on the civilians. He's iconic that way, I think it would be especially hard on Kara. And it would be terrible for Gotham morale and Batgirl especially, if Batman dies while being a hero.

It'd be terrible if either hero died. Both are incredibly strong and intelligent. If either died it would mean a villain strong enough and reckless enough to simply murder any adversary.

It would be pretty scary to all if Superman died....after all Cryptonien's are supposed to be indestructible, no?

Kara would take the death pretty hard. In denial, probably. Insisting that there is a way to bring him back.

If one of the Invincibro's (yo bros) died then it'll hit hard.

It'll hit differently depending on the counterpart. And the situation.

For example, if Hal died both sides will mourn. And the Invicibros will be a mess (I suspect that Steve and Hal were co-captains, if anything Steve is a bit of a figurehead). Speaking of 'captain' the school, whoever knew the confident brunet will be in shock because Hal always seemed a little invincible. Many would mourn him since he grows on you....like fungi. Jess will be wrecked and she'd blame herself because of course she would. She was his partner, she should have been there. 'And oh gosh she was alone now, she'd have to defend the space sector alone. And even if she's assigned a new partner it wouldn't matter because they weren't an obnoxious, confident, self-centered Hal'. And yes, there will be a certain dampness in the atmosphere for both teams.

If Barry died both teams (the whole city even) would mourn. Barry was beloved as both Barry the dessert slinger and the Flash, superhero speedster. Barry was kind of the kindness of the group. The one who did good for no other motive than the fact that he loved deeply and wanted to keep everyone safe. The team would keep chugging along with this mindset...but I don't think they'd be able to eat at Sweet Justice anymore. It would hit Babs' hard because he was her best (guy) friend and they swore to have each other's backs (in my AU) and she didn't have his and now he's dead. I think the girls would prefer to just move their headquarters since Sweet Justice was painful enough to just think about.

If Carter died I'm afraid no one will notice. Hawkman's death will be acknowledged but not Carter's. Carter's death if given any attention at school would be a mystery much like he was. Same with Hawkman, his death will be mourned but he'd be considered a mystery death because of his quiet nature. This will drive the boys mad because Carter Hall was DEAD and no one seemed to care. How can they not realize that everything has changed? Carter was more or less the level-headed one of the group. It would be particularly terrible for Karen since Carter was big and strong and knowing he's dead? Yes...she wouldn't take it well. She'd most likely try to avenge him.

If Oliver died it would be a bit of a scandal. I'm sure he has quite the fan base as both an aspiring actor and the charismatic Green Arrow. He was always the *cue dramatic gasp* dramatic one of the bunch. His death will be, you guessed it, terrible. Since happy, confident, loyal Green Arrow was killed. The atmosphere around the team would tune quiet, if a little hollow but they'd keep chugging through since Oliver wasn't friends with quitters. And it would hit Zee differently because the last thing they did was fight (of course they did) and now he's dead and she realized that she had fun arguing with him and their rivalry made acting so much more fun and now how is she supposed to perform when her co-star was dead? When the idiot who would make rude faces behind the curtains and then grudgingly admit she did 'decently' was dead?!? It would hit hard because Oliver and Zee shared a passion and they both left a stain there. She'd forever associate her love for the stage to her complicated friendship with a dead actor. (I think she'd hate when in the future people forget Oliver Queen's name). The whole girl said would mourn but they didn't know Oliver as well as Zee and Zee's a wreck so they'd channel their grief into comforting her.

God help the idiot who murders Steve. If Diana hasn't already killed you, the team will. The Invincibro's, I mean. Steve is a bit of a figurehead so kill the queen and they will make it their life mission to avenge him. That is all after the grieving, of course. Steve will be mourned heavily by both teams, especially by Diana and the Invicibros. Diana will be confused at first because she never even thought that Steve could die. Never crossed her mind. She never asked for anything, wanted for anything, but she wanted him. Him to be alive. How is that even possible??! Jeez, I don't see much of him so that's all I can really say.

If Garth is killed well... Both teams will be horrified and heartbroken. It's just that Garth is so innocent and sweet. And he was killed. The whole school I think would notice because the football team will mourn (in my AU) him. The city might be a bit indifferent because despite his confidence he never demanded as much attention as his team. But the team will never be indifferent to it. The Invincibro's will be furious to hide the fact that they are wrecked because yes, Garth can handle himself in a fight but he was only fourteen. He had plans and he was their friend, goddamit. (I really want to go in depth about how the girls and guys would react but I'll resist.) Kara will react similarly because how dare they take her little brother away?? One thing is letting him handle himself when he's getting bullied but killing him?

Okay...this is a quick peek at how the team and counterpart will react to their death....now for the girls!!

(they are all killed, okay? No different or accidental deaths)

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

If Jess were killed the team would be a wreck, of course. Jess, I like to think, was the mom friend and medic of the group. The girls will mourn and healing will be hard. Very hard. They'll remember all the things she holds dear. I have no doubt they'll participate in protests like Jess has been bugging them to do when she was alive. The Invincibro's will be sad too, of course. Initially, then they'll be pissed. Won't rest untill they help the SHG defeat the killer. And Hal? He'll be feral, of course he would. He is very possessive and very loyal. He'd be in denial at first (they all would) because how can Jessica Fricking Cruz, passionate kind selfless Jess be dead?? That's not possible. She cared too much, had too much to do- she can't be dead. But I feel like halfway through his revenge rampant he'll remember that Jess was a pacifist and he'll...I dunno.

If Babs died the team will be swinging from horrified, to unbelieving, to furious. They'd be sad because Babs loved being a superhero and she loved helping people and now she was dead and- they'd be a mess. And don't even get me started on how Barry would take it. Wanna know how he'd take it? Very badly. Why? Because Babs is his best friend and his counterpart and he's supposed to watch her back and she's gone for real and this is terrible and he's so sensitive and everything is fallings apart it seems. He'll definitely be a little more jaded, a lot more protective and burst into tears when anyone orders a candy cake triple ripple tower with rainbow sprinkles. But then overtime it'll turn into a sad smile. Man, the Invincibro's will also be horrified since Babs was close to pretty much everyone.

If Karen died? Absolute pandemonium. The team will be equal parts blaming themselves and torn with guilt and sorrow. They will tear the world apart looking for a way to fix it somehow. Fix it the way Karen would have. The boy team, because despite all their teasing, will be in uproar because no one messed with Karen but them!! And Carter? He'll be at war with himself, because he should have protected her, the pipsqueak was too young and small and fragile to be able to hold off evil by herself and how dare she put herself in that situation? How dare she just leave them like that?? I feel like he'll be in denial for a long time, working through everything to avoid processing his grief but when it does it'll hit hard. Probably because of something small but subtle. Like getting electrocuted because Karen had quite a few fractal scars from her experimenting and super heroing. Or when he realizes he got stung by a bee- it's the little moments when it strikes deep.

If Zee died it would be a bit absolutely scandalous of course. Not only will the girls be horrified and heartbroken but so will Zee's fanbase as an actor and her father's assistant. The girls will have quite some time to even begin to adjust but soon enough they will jump straight into plotting their revenge. The boys will be livid of course but none more that her counterpart Oliver Queen. Oliver won't quite believe it, I don't think, he'll just think that Zee will just magically resurrect herself because the annoying actress who liked hogging his showtime couldn't possibly be dead. She was like a cockroach! No matter how many times squashed beneath your shoe those wretched little things will just come back. All the time...she couldn't be gone. And truly he didn't hate her, he just liked having a goal. To outshine Zee Zatara. So...how could she be dead? This will hit especially hard when he doesn't have a counterpart to fight with. Or when the leading lady role goes to someone new. Clear to say that Zee Zatara's death will be every bit heart wrenching.

If Diana dies be prepared for hell. The girls will fall apart with grief after avenging their leader. I feel that Babs would try to keep everyone together at least. The boy team will be furious because Diana was their battle plan leader too! And how- they'd be confused because how can the immortal Diana Prince die? The school would definitely have a service for the mystery top student. How would Steve react? He'd be horrified and lost, and confused but then he'd help the girls avenge W.W and live the rest of his life upholding Diana's values. (I'm not quite sure how he'd handle the grief.)

If Kara dies then there will of course first be the mourning (at least according to the show). Then the shock. Then the doubt because hasn't Kara 'died' before? And that would lead to hope which will make the moment of confirmation the most painful. For both teams. Garth will be completely blindsided with grief and anger because how dare they take his big sister? How dare they hurt moody, cold, rude at times, big softie at heart, Kara? And well I guess we'll discover that rage is also a prominent feature if the ocean, is it not? So yes, this will be an emotional rollercoaster no doubt about it.

✨✨✨EXTRA EXTRA✨✨✨

This extra will be non-super hero's who will also mourn and attempt to avenge the lost one.

Diana- she is the princess of an island of immortal warrior woman. Her mom is 'a final boss'. She will have plenty of people to avenger her (not that she would want that, per say). I kind of have a suspicion that Queen of Amazon's will either be overly sympathetic ('my daughter has chosen her path, now we can only honor her') or furiously because they were part of her daughters dream that got Diana killed (may you pray we never cross paths again or I will curse you as you have cursed me).

Karen- not sure... but maybe her parents??? They can make a suit too??

Kara- Her cousin because family is family and that's period and she's like the only survivor who doesn't want him (genuinely) dead. And Alex, her step-sister- maybe.

Jess- Green Lantern Corp.? Dexstarr?

Zee- her DAD, remember they are super close and he's super powerful and yeah....

Babs- Her dad- who's like a cop and even though he shown to be extremely lazy I have no doubt that he'd drop the donuts to find out what happened to his precious pumpkin pants. Might even call I'm Batman. Harleen, yes Harleen who tried to murder Robin because he embarrassed Babs will definitely go after her best friends murderer (even after finding out Vans secret identity)

Okay for Steve and Carter I genuinely don't know.

Garth, I'm not sure but if he's actually underwater royalty than you can expect a whole lot of flooding, earthquakes and sea monsters.

Hal- starfire is coming for your but

Oliver- Mortimer Drake, maybe? They are sort of bro's

Barry- DA WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD

Well...this was fun, wasn't it? Thanks for the beautiful ask, as usual @thedevilsmusicbox and I look forward to hearing from you. 😁🙋

[giorgiastastes]

El hoyo (2019)

"The message needs no carrier" (spoiler: it actually does)

"There are 3 kinds of people; the ones above, the ones below, and the ones who fall. "

I've just watched this small masterpieces and here's my own interpretation.

Obviously the whole movie is a big metaphor. Both an analogy about our society and one about the Afterlife are present.

First of all, in my view, the place they're kept into is like a Purgatory between heaven and hell. The protagonist entered there voluntary because after the six months trial he would have expiated his sins and would finally be ready to enter Heaven. The old man is an accidental killer, therefore he doesn't deserve Hell, but definitely can't go into Heaven either, and his punishment is longer than Goreng's because he did in fact end a life.

Also Goreng is referenced multiples times as the Messiah, and his travel towards this purge tower is quite similar to Dante's one.

Each prisoner wakes up the first day of the month in a different position, which represents our birth. Some are born in better environments, families and countries and all of it is just luck, fate.

Then, since everyone knows that each of higher floors will likely take advantage of their position, our selfishness takes the best of us.

The higher floors know that the lower ones will literally eat their leftovers, while the ones under know that they better take as much as they can, otherwise they won't be able to survive. There's no altruism or generosity in the society.

You're placed high, you sh*t on who's below. You're below, you dream to reach above.

Each of the characters represents something.

The first roommate, the old man, is someone who's very aware of their surrounding, who's tired of fighting and knows very well how the world works because he's been in a better as much as a worse situation.

The lady coming from the Administration is a middle class representative, trying to change the world but also completely unaware of what's happening right under her nose.

The fact that she keeps on saying that a baby cannot be there and there are 200 floors is just further proof that we blindly lie to ourselves that things can't be that bad, that the world isn't that evil and the rules are respect, being delusional of course, to help us sleep at night. That's why when she hits lower than what she was told was possible, she killed herself.

She's also a vegetarian, with a big love for animals. She obviously represents both an activist that is trying to tell others that they shouldn't eat more than they need, because that means that who's lower won't have anything left, which is such a big innuendo to climate change, but at the same time she's also a privileged person who's never been lower than a certain point and thinks that anyone can easily "just eat less" without caring about other's issues (it reminded me of some vegans who cannot accept that veganism is not accessible or sustainable for the majority of the would population)

The last roommate, the one with the rope represents a religious person, who endures the hardship without giving up because of his faith.

Another pragmatic sequence in my opinion was the one where the two, while descending the tower, met an ill man with a companion with the Down Syndrome (I'm sorry if I'm sounding insensitive is just that I don't know how else to better describe the scene to make it recognizable to you) who said that he will proceed to suffocate his cellmate to also eat what went into his stomach even while being no more hungry himself, I mean, can you better descrive greed than this sentence?

Now, coming to the final scene, which left many of the viewers disappoint or confused, here's my idea.

The deranged girl who claims to have a daughter is definitely crazy, but not completely gone. I do believe there is a baby there, and the Administration is probability unaware of that because there's someone higher than them, and they're being lied to, also. But I don't think the protagonist actually saw the little girl.

I think that he reached such a place of histeria that he convinced himself that the baby was alive, hallucinating, to have a last strand of hope as he was dying. Notice how the baby is perfectly clean and well nourished, that would be impossible. The little girl is long gone and dead God knows in which floor but he convinced himself that he saw her as a way of also hoping that some kind of humanity is still left, that they wouldn't kill and eat an innocent and innocuous creature. But that's not the case.

Notice how he reaches the 333th floor and then walks like he doesn't even have a scar. Now multiply that number for each room residents, which are two. He's dead and has now reached Hell. There he finds his first roommate who's also in Hell since they both damned themselves letting their selfishness take over. The lady is obviously absent, since she never hurt a thing or specifically ate someone's flesh.

The baby was all part of his imagination and she doesn't reach the 0 level, simply because she was never there in the first place.

The girl could have been the message if she reached the top, since it would have proven how flawed the system is, but she never will. Some people claimed that it is not possible to reach the top because of how fast the platform goes, that it will just crash on the ceiling. I do not agree. There's no point in letting the platform crash each time so it will probably slow down enough to reach level 0, in facts we don't even know how tall level 1 is.

Someone also claimed that it's impossible that no one else ever reached the top through this method, which means to go all the way down to then come back up. First of all, it could have happened and that person could have been sent back down, but what I find most reasonable is that no one knows how deep the hole is, probably up to hell, and no one is brave enough to do it because no matter how bad your situation is, you're still afraid of having it worse. It's a suicidal mission which led to crazyness and then death even our brave characters.

Another reference I've loved is when it's mentioned that usually the poorest kill each other's to survive, while the richest have the highest rate of suicide. Why is that? Easy, they have nothing to endure, to live for, they have everything, they're not longing for the hope of food plus there's frightening in knowing that the next month it can only worsen.

So now the question remains: What is the ending then if the baby doesn't reach the top? The finale guys was right in front of our eyes, around the middle of the movie. Remember when the chef complains to other cooks about the hair in the pannacotta? That's the real ending: the pannacotta reaches the top (further proof that the platform won't crash) as the message but instead of being interpreted as a statement of insurrection, the level 0 workers believe it was sent back because there was a hair in there. This is the ultimate slap in the face, the final proof that those people are so out of touch, so blind towards what's happening downstairs that they think that was the issue, the hair in the pannacotta, without realizing that people are literally eating each others down there.

So, there was actually a satisfying finale which gave us answers, it's just that the finale was not at the end as usual.

[thattimdrakeguy]

Why, uh, do ppl hate Tim so much? I just fell down a hole of anti tim and I can’t find a..valid reason for the hate besides that fact tht hes rich and white?

From my experience it’s one of those things where Tim has antagonistic relationships with other Bat-Family members like Damian, Jason, and even partially Steph. So they just crap on Tim, because it’ll make their favs look better.

Like that’s genuinely been the main reason I see, and they use the fact he’s rich and white to make it seem like it’s a social justice thing, even though in the end it really isn’t.

I sort of rant for the rest of the post going in more detail, and mentioning things I’ve been shown, and why I think a lot of it is dumb, but basically it’s just people being petty and insecure, and being unable to handle things in any other way than childishly.

For some Jason fans I’ve seen them talk about how much they hate Tim because they replaced the poor kid with a rich kid, but I’m really freaking poor myself. Obviously I’m not homeless, but there was a time in my life where I slept on the floor, and later on after I did have a bed my bed room had a hole in the floor. But, they’re just looking too deep into stuff just to find a problem anywhere they can.

I’ve also seen some say Tim bullied his way into being Robin after the poor kid died. When 1) that isn’t even an accurate description of what happened and 2) they’re obviously just trying to word it the worst way possible, because they’re pretty freaking childish.

Damian fans try to make Tim and his fans out to be racist cause Tim doesn’t like Damian, when that’s actually because Damian got so close to killing Tim I’m pretty sure Tim actually did nearly die from bleeding out. I think also because Tim once said “what about his biology” when referring to Damian, when Tim wasn’t referring to his race, he was referring to how he’s related to criminals and Damian literally had his biology messed with to make him a fierce warrior and a good body for Ra’s.

Steph fans also try to make Tim and his fans out to be sexist. But their reasoning is really weak, because it’s literally just boiled down to Tim being mean to Steph sometimes, but it’s not like that’s cause of her gender for that to make sense. It’s because in context she is an untrained citizens constantly putting herself and potentially others in-danger without any training to feel safe with her constantly being out there. Plus she flirted with him so much to the point it made him uncomfortable and fit the literal definition of sexual harassment.

And they always do that thing where they gotta make their favs sound better, and Tim sound worse. Which admittedly Tim fans do the same thing, but I’m not really here to pick a side. I’m just here pointing out how freaking annoying fandoms can be, because ultimately I don’t really care what fandom does it. At the moment though I can confidently say, that other fandoms are doing it a lot more than Tim ones lately, because I’m in the Tim tags at least twice a day most days and I’ve barely seen it lately.

It’s kind of a thing to project a lot of stuff on the Tim fandom for the same faux-social-justice kind of jargon they try to do. When you see it from a view like mine, where I’m not on any side of any fandom, even if I am a Tim fan (cause I never really been into deep fandom stuff), it just comes off as hypocritical frankly.

(If you want to hear some dumb things some Tim fans do to even it up, they make him the most frail, emo, emotionally unstable kid ever sometimes. They can focus way too much on making him sympathetic (but even then, literally every fandom does that, but the Tim fandom always does it in a very notable depressing way). They also focus so much on coffee and practically act like he’s all pilled up on anti-depressants he just acts weird that it just seems obsessive and very out of character.)

Like as some examples they’ll bring up how Tim doesn’t trust Damian and put him on a list of potential threats. But Damian literally nearly caused Tim’s death, nearly caused it again in the same story, and at the end it’s shown that Damian isn’t on there because Tim considers him a villain, it’s because he has potential to be dangerous. Wonder Woman and Red Tornado are also on the same list.

To me, I just look at that story as ridiculous, because Damian isn’t dumb, and Tim literally spoke against contingency plan stuff before. Damian’s going to need more than to be on a vague list as a potential threat, especially when he’s visibly on the hero side of it. Damian’s not that thinned skin. He’s got a temper, and obviously really doesn’t like Tim, but even when he felt Tim was insulting him or being patronizing to him before he didn’t try to kill him then immediately. He tried to kill him because he thought that’s what he was supposed to do to earn his place beside his father.

The story’s just dumb in-general.

And then they pull out the New 52 story where Tim is just being a dick to Damian for no good reason, but it’s the same kind of thing. Tim was never that much of a dick without being provoked. The only time I think Tim started a fight was in Red Robin where he was on pills that messed with his mental state, and again had everyone out of character regardless. Because 1) Dick wouldn’t just give away Robin from Tim, because he knows better than that. 2) Damian acts like he’s happy his dad is dead and just acts like a generic child and not even like Damian. And 3) I legitimately can’t see Tim just hitting a kid, even Damian, unless a fight already breaks out.

For Steph fans they point out how Tim is passive aggressive to her, constantly doesn’t want her to be Spoiler, and yada yada. Probably because her Batgirl run portrayed that as being mentally scarring to Steph. Even though one of the panels they chose of Tim being upset and not wanting her to be Spoiler, was after Steph caused Tim to be disfigured and on the pills that messed with his mental state to begin with. Which inadvertedly just makes her look self-centered and narcissistic. But again, I don’t even consider that in-character, because 1) I don’t buy that Steph would listen to Batman especially when it puts Tim in danger, because she never gave a crap about what Batman said till they needed to villainize her before she died. 2) Steph can be arrogant and self-centered, she has it in her, but she wouldn’t ever be that self-centered, to the point she just looks narcissistic. 3) I’m pretty sure at the actual time it happened, Steph is shown being aware she messed up. 4) Steph never cared what others thought. She trespassed on other people’s property to party. She’s a very confident person the majority of the time. Batman tells her to knock it off, she might as well flip him the bird because she just finds him more annoying than anything else. It’s literally in her origin that she doesn’t even like Batman.

There’s also the context for in the 90s when Tim first started doing it. Steph was portrayed as a reckless citizen that could potentially get herself and others into harm because she didn’t know what she was doing, and didn’t have the highest morals. That’s not anything any of the bats would encourage. If Tim was extra passive aggressive, he’s a literal thirteen to fifteen year old boy during that time, no duh he’s going to be immature. That still isn’t a sexism thing. Steph may had saved him twice, but that wasn’t portrayed even in-story as a sign she can handle it like a pro. It was always portrayed as “thank goodness she was with Tim at that time, and knew where he was to save him”. Not to say she was completely unskilled, because I’m not taking that far, but just speaking in generalizations.

She was originally added into Robin to be a very specific foil to Tim, and be a general pain in his side. That was their dynamic. If that makes it seem weird that they eventually had them date then I agree.

And at the same time for both of their characters they also ignore what the character they’re trying to defend has done, because Damian literally nearly killed Tim. They act like Tim should just get over it, because Damian was a kid in a cult, but that explains why Damian did it, it doesn’t excuse it. When something like that happens the person who was nearly killed is probably going to be traumatized (rather or not Tim was can be argued, I’m not saying he was or wasn’t), and not ever trust the person. Like that is the natural and most accurate response for it.

It’s just villainizing for the sake of being petty.

With Steph they ignore the fact she essentially sexually harassed Tim all the time and straight up emotionally abused him for an arc. Which her fans hate to hear, but that is stuff that happened. It was written by her creator. I don’t really care if Tim took her costume away or kissed her first, because I’m aware, and I know the contexts, and it doesn’t take away from what she’s done, because that’s not how that works. They also ignore she caused Tim to be disfigured by saying she was just doing what Batman said. But at that point she was also an adult, and would know better.

Like Steph can be reckless, that’s part of her character, but she isn’t an idiot.

In the end, from what all I’ve seen, it’s literally just fandom pettiness. There’s a lot of fans out there that act childish, treat people like idiots, blatantly lie about things, or exaggerate stuff.

It’s all very dumb, but I find it hard to take serious, because if they can’t acknowledge what their own favs have actually done, it just comes across like they genuinely don’t like the character and can’t admit it. They prefer to stay in their candy land so they gaslit others instead.

For me it’s as easy as paying attention to the story, seeing the contexts, and a lot of the time it’s not even a thing that’s in-character for any of the characters involved, or at least the very least not nearly as serious as they treat it.

Especially for around the past 15 or more years or so. By then the care in making everything is crafted and makes sense went down the drain so it’s often that a story doesn’t even make sense to begin with.

They think fandom is about making everyone else look bad apparently, or at least they sure act like it.

Like it’s comics. I think the fandom in-general that gets so worked up over stuff needs to relax, deattach yourself to look at it from the grander view, and calm down over it. Because things aren’t always what they seem. People try to convince themselves of so much stuff, or bully others for so much stuff, and it’s all so petty and unhealthy.

My personal philosophy in the fandom to avoid any toxic behavior is to just keep it real. I don’t lie to myself, I give everything the same standard, I definitely don’t bully or gaslit anyone, I don’t treat my favorite like they’re a real dang person either, and I look at it all like how it is, fiction.

It’s the reason why I get upset at writing and not fictional characters. I don’t ultimately care when a character does a bad thing, unless it’s out of character. To me the only thing I get upset with is the writing, because it’s the only thing that’s real.

Don’t be obsessed, and keep the peace essentially.

[twdmusicboxmystery]

FTWD 6x11: The Holding

Wow! Where to begin with this episode? We had some super-stellar parallels going here. I don’t think it was any secret that I wasn’t thrilled with last week’s episode. It was fine, but also kind of meh. I LOVED this week’s episode. So much good stuff!

***As always, spoilers for 6x11 abound below. Don't read until you've watched!***

So, we learn about these “end is the beginning” people. They’re staying in a place called The Holding, which is really an underground parking garage. (Um…cars, anyone? Let’s recall that Daryl and Carol walked through at least one parking garage in Consumed while looking for Beth. They also passed lots of above-ground ones, including one that had a red car with its door open in front of it. Also, the fact that it’s underground could make it a symbolic tomb/grave.)

These people are composting walkers to grow food underground. (People do use blood and bone feed to fertilize gardens. Like compost and waste, it really does help them grow. Of course in our society it’s ANIMAL blood and bone. Using walkers/humans is definitely more sinister and cringy. And they have proven that eating various parts of humans leads to things like Mad Cow’s Disease, so I do think Alicia’s question about food being grown that way being healthy is viable.)

But moving on.

It’s important to note that the showrunner called this group a cult, so are not they meant to be “good people.” Most of those that live there aren’t sinister, but they’ve been brainwashed into thinking their leader is a good man and that what he’s trying to accomplish is good. They’ve drunk the koolaid (or eaten the walker food?).

So, we have the ivy walker.

There really couldn’t be a more clear parallel to the blond girl Daryl saw on the tree in 5x15. Plus all the green ivy around her.

I believe we saw a promo of this walker early on. Like maybe nearer the beginning of S6. Which, thanks to Covid, was more than a year ago. I’d pretty much forgotten it, but we actually do see it in this episode.

The dogma of this group (“the end is the beginning”) is that from death springs new life. This walker is meant to represent that. Life growing out of death. And on its own, it doesn’t seem like an overly negative mission statement. After all, this world is full of death and people are trying to survive. But it quickly becomes obvious that there’s more sinister stuff at work here.

So what does this have to do with Beth? I think she’s the ultimate symbol of life springing from death. So, not only does this foreshadow her, but they’re also using her as a symbol here. I don’t know how this group may feed into future story lines, or if they’ll just be a FTWD thing, but it will be interesting to watch.

Some of the major things in this episode: a Sirius reunion, a Daryl/Merle parallel, Grady parallels, at least two major Beth/Bethyl proxies, and some tantalizing hints for what’s to come involving both this group and the CRM. (See why I loved this episode?)

Let’s dive in.

First, let me acknowledge all the background symbols. There are tons of them, and I don’t want to go into tons of detail about them. But we see cheese (think Morgan/Eastman), tomatoes, eggs (lots of food). We also see fire extinguishers, lots of green (especially paint), an elevator. You get the idea.

The first big thing that happens is Wes meets his brother, Derek, whom he thought was dead. 

Welcome to the first Beth proxy.

Okay, I didn’t remember much of this backstory or how much of it was told when we first met Wes. I do remember talking about his brother as a possible Beth proxy, but beyond that, I didn’t remember details. But they rehash it all here. Care to take a guess?

Wes went out for supplies and was overwhelmed by, you guessed it, a walker horde. He ran into a shed but it collapsed (becoming something of tomb) and the walkers were beating on the outside, trying to get in (think Beth and Daryl in the trunk). He passed out and woke up in The Holding.

That’s exactly like what happened with Beth, actually. She told Gorman she was fighting a walker and everything went black. She woke up at Grady.

The difference here is that Beth never bought into what Dawn was peddling, but unfortunately, Wes’s brother did. We eventually learn that he’s a true follower of “Teddy,” the cult leader and condones the murder that’s being done.

And of course that’s also what we think happened during the missing 17 days. Overwhelmed by walkers, left behind. Perhaps she woke up back at Grady, or somewhere else.

But the actual reunion between Wes and Derek is very on-the-nose. Because Wes truly thought this brother dead, he even says things like, “You’re alive?” and “What the hell?” Probably things that will be said about Beth when she finally shows up.

There’s also a serious/Sirius mention when they sit down to talk. And Derek keeps mentioning his bike. Like Daryl, he had a bike that Wes took when he thought his brother dead. But the fact that he mentions “bikes” like five times in this conversation is important.

I wanted to mention coffee. We’ve seen coffee as a symbol before, specifically around Carol. We first noticed it when Paula told her little story about the carrot, the egg and the coffee beans going into the water in 6x13. She said the coffee beans changed the water itself. So, coffee = a catalyst for change. But this episode made me realize it’s a catalyst for a change that’s not necessarily good.

Apparently, the supplies Wes’s brother went out for was coffee creamer. The change that came was not only him being left behind and presumed dead, but changing into a person that no longer empathized with other human beings. (Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t we see Carol making and drinking coffee just before they went to the caverns and Connie disappeared?)

There’s also a huge eye/sight/see theme. They take everyone over to see this green-ivy walker and ask them what they “see”. The idea is that they should see life and possibility springing from death, but it’s just a way to indoctrinate them and check to see if they’re willing to go along with what the cult’s beliefs are. Lots of talk of eyes (opening your eyes), what one can and can’t yet see, etc.

Later, we see walkers with their mouths sewn shut. So we have at least the see no evil, speak no evil themes. There might have been hear no evil that I didn’t catch.

The second major parallel is to Daryl and Merle, since these two are brothers. 

But it’s more than just that. Wes took Derek’s bike after he disappeared (same as Daryl and Merle). When Wes found his brother again, he was with a bad group (with Merle, it was the Governor) or rather a group of decent people led by an evil man. Derek has a skewed mindset, and is working for Teddy. Remember that Merle not only worked for the Gov but even tried to kill Michonne at one point. And how they die is…similar. Merle’s, in the end, was more chivalrous, as he died to help save Daryl and TF. That wasn’t the case with Derek, but his death resulted from him pretending to work against Teddy. Unfortunately it wasn’t real, and he betrayed them, but there are still parallels/anti-parallels between the two stories.

How is this place like Grady?

There’s the underground tomb aspect, the fact that they grow their own food. At the beginning, Alicia’s group keeps asking them questions about the community, which Riley (Nick Stahl) pretty much refuses to answer.

One of them is, “Are we allowed to leave?” or “Is anyone allowed to leave?” That, of course, instantly reminded me of Grady. Now, they never answer it directly, and at one point, Riley says they can decide if they want to stay or not. But by the time we get to the end of the episode, I’m pretty sure that’s BS. So, like Grady, no one’s really given the choice to leave. Even if they tell people they can.

They’re taken into a room with medical equipment at one point. It just looks a lot like Grady, though I could tell it wasn’t the same kind of medical equipment. We’re told that it’s embalming equipment.

In fact, Al says something that should catch your ear. She says, “they must have hit the funeral home.” Naturally all our minds will go to Alone, but she’s talking about the funeral home she and Dwight (I think) were at before. I don’t remember which episode, but we talked about it looking a lot like the funeral home in Alone. So, I think Al is saying these people, The Holding, raided that funeral home and took the equipment. Kinda makes me think the funeral home in Alone will come back into the picture at some point.

And it turns out, The Holding is embalming walkers. Al’s group ends up in a room with dozens of walkers strung up by their wrists (kind of like Daryl and Michonne were in Scars). They’ve been embalmed and their mouths have been sewn shut.

So, here’s where the plot becomes super interesting. I mentioned above that Riley told them they could choose to leave at some point, right? Al was saying that everything they’ve set up is impressive—food, power, water, they’re very self-sustaining—but it felt like they were preparing for something big.

He admits that they are. He says they are planning to soon close the doors permanently. He says they never want to go topside again, and the new way to live will be underground.

Later, when talking to Morgan, Al sort of implies that maybe it’s not so much about them choosing to go underground as that something will drive them underground for a long time. Almost like they’re preparing for a nuclear winter or something. But we don’t know exactly what it is.

I think what we’re supposed to infer is that they’re collecting walkers to use as compost in coming years. (They even call the walkers ‘posters.) They’re embalming the walkers to keep them “fresh.” Riley says the walkers last about 2 months in the composter before they break down entirely, so putting away 20 or 30 walkers really will last them for years.

CRM Ties

Wes and Al snoop through Derek’s room. They find maps of different communities and some of those transparent overlays that have the three rings of the CRM on them. That’s how they know that this group is attacking communities (like Tank Town) and that Derek knows all about it.

The other thing Al figures out from looking at Derek’s maps is that the group seemed to be tracking the CRM’s drop sites. She thinks they want to get their hands on a helicopter. (So, when it comes to Nora’s group, who was in the high rise, this group wasn’t after them. The roof was a helicopter drop site and that’s really who they were after. Though, they might have set the plague on Nora’s people because they are trying to kill humanity.) And given that this cult might be planning the end of the world, clearly them getting a hold of a helicopter would be a bad thing. 

Al tells Dwight she’s going to go look for Isobel and warn her. I think she’s just planning to go to the drop sites and wait for a helicopter to show up.

So, we have more potential interaction with the CRM through Al. And I’m really hoping we get some good Bethyl symbolism and clues through this storyline. I’ll definitely be keeping an eye on it.

Morgan and Burning it Down

Wes confronts him and talks him into leaving with them. At one point, Wes mentions Morgan. I think he just does it without thinking, because what would Morgan mean to his brother, right? But Derek instantly gets weird when he hears Morgan’s name, and Wes doesn’t really notice.

When they try to leave, they get caught, and it’s obvious Derek set them up. They’re taken to the embalming room, and Riley asks where Morgan is. They won’t say how they know him or why they want him, but they’re VERY interested in finding Morgan. 

I was thinking it might just be because Morgan killed those two guys in one of the early episodes when they attacked him in his truck, but they both died and wouldn’t have known his name from that encounter anyway. So I’m not sure what this is about. There are the tapes they were leaving at gas stations and such. Maybe that’s it, but it wouldn’t explain why they would want Morgan more than the others.

They’re taken to the embalming room and threatened with death. Derek takes Wes back to the ivy walker to see if he can “see” what Wes does. 

A fight ensues, and Wes throws Derek into the walker where he’s bitten. He shoots his brother so he won’t turn. The thing about this part is that it doesn’t show it. It instead shows the (somewhat yellowish) mural Derek was working on before, and Teddy’s voice is talking about how light comes from darkness. Then, we just hear a single gunshot. 

That gave me *major* Beth vibes.

Wes then goes back to the embalming room to rescue the others.

Wes’s reaction at this part reminded me a bit of Daryl/Merle too. Not so much at Merle’s death, but back in 3x10 when Daryl returned to the prison. It just struck me that, while Wes did cry when his brother died and clearly mourned him, he got over it really fast. He went back to where the group was and no longer seemed terribly broken up about it. I was just thinking he seemed to have figured out who his true family was and where he really belonged, and that that was more important than his brother’s warped mindset. Much like Daryl and Merle.

When he goes back, he takes Riley hostage briefly and they all escape into another room and bar the door. This room is full of the hanging walkers full of embalming fluid. They have to walk between them toward an exit on the far side.

Al Parallels Daryl in 5x15

Here’s another super interesting parallel. Al sees one walker hanging that has the black CRM gear on it, including the helmet, so she can’t see its face. She walks over to it and lifts its helmet, clearly looking to see if it’s Isobel, which it’s not. Such an obvious parallel to Daryl looking into the face of the blond walker on the tree. It even lunges at her and she kills it, like Daryl did with that walker.

What I liked here is that Alicia freaked out about it. She said, “what the hell was that?” Aaron didn’t say that to Daryl, so they weren’t drawing as much attention to it there as they did here. But clearly we are supposed to notice that, without knowing more, that behavior is bizarre. And here, we the audience know that Al was worried it was Isobel. But Alicia doesn’t. Where the blond walker on the tree is concerned, the audience is in Alicia’s place, not being terribly clear about what’s behind Daryl’s behavior. (I mean, TD is, but most of the rest of the fandom isn’t.)

So then Alicia says they should take this place down. When Al stabbed the CRM walker in the neck, embalming fluid poured out. Embalming fluid is highly flammable. So, long story short, Alicia stays behind to “burn it down” and the others escape. (I don’t have to explain that parallel, right? ;D)

It all happens really fast. We see Alicia light the match (which Al had; just reminded me of Daryl having matches in Rick’s hallucination in 7x01, and clearly Al = Daryl in this parallel), and then it skips to Al, Wes, and Luciana back with Morgan telling him what happened. They say the fire was huge and burned hot, and Alicia could have gotten out, but they couldn’t FIND her. They also don’t know if any of the Holding people got out.

So Morgan just says they’re going to go back and start at the Holding location to look for Alicia. I’m assuming that will happen next episode.

So, we aren’t exactly clear on this group’s dogma or what they’re trying to do, but it does seem that they want to kill off everyone who lives up top. Which is, you know, everyone. And once again, that makes them a lot like the Wolves. They believe killing people is saving them. I’m not saying these are Wolves or anything (they might be; after all, both groups tied a blond walker to a tree and believed similar things about killing off the remnants of humanity) but rather that the Wolves were a foreshadow of other groups to come.

And the next question is, are they part of the CRM? Because of the CRM walker, and what they implied about them trying to hijack a helicopter, I’m thinking not. But there’s clearly a lot of entanglement going on.

Alicia = Beth

So, in the final scene, we have some interesting developments. This may be the scene that got my mind spinning the most, just in terms of symbolic Beth potential.

We see Alicia, very much alive, and still in the embalming room, though now all the walls look blackened. So obviously the entire place didn’t burn down. (That doesn’t surprise me. It’s an underground parking garage. It takes a lot to burn down cement.)

She’s being held hostage in there. Riley comes in and says some weird, cryptic things. He says new life springs from death, for MOST people, and that they plan to preserve Alicia exactly as she is. It’s obvious they mean to kill and embalm her.

But I had the thought that maybe they meant her to take the place of the Ivy Walker. We don’t know what happened to that walker. It might have burned in the fire, but they didn’t show us either way. I was thinking that it would make a twisted sense for them to embalm Alicia (who tried to take their community down) and put her in its place. Which would make her a Beth proxy.

Riley leaves her alone with the embalming guy, but she stabs him in the eye (Sirius) and then, after a brutal scuffle, sticks him in the neck with the embalming needle, killing him.

It’s then that we finally meet Teddy, the leader of the cult. We hear about him and hear his voice a lot during the episode (they play tapes of him talking throughout the garage as people work) but this is when we first see him. It’s John Glover. I don’t know if everyone’s familiar with him. He was on Smallville back in the day. I totally forgot he was going to be on the show. He’s usually a villain, but more of a funny villain than a scary villain.

Anyway, he basically tells Alicia he has a special role for her and that he’s been looking for someone like her for a long time. He seems convinced that he can convert her to his philosophy, but he’s also fixated on the fact that she sacrificed herself for her family. So, it doesn’t say what he means by “someone like you” but I’m assuming someone who is brave or else self-sacrificial.

But here’s the thing. I’ve been thinking recently that they haven’t really done much with Alicia lately. She’s one of the few surviving originals for this series, and one of the most well known actors going into it, because she’s been on other highly-watched tv shows, but they’ve kind of been ignoring her.

So, I think this is the beginning of a big arc for her, and I think it will be a major parallel for what happened with Beth after she was left behind.

Alicia becomes a proxy here for Beth, not only because she’s in the Grady-like medical room, and stabs a guy in the eye, but Teddy totally razzes her about being left behind.

He says, “they left you behind.” She says, “I made them.” He says, “Yeah, but they obliged.” And then goes off about how they’re her family and family is sacred and they shouldn’t have done that.

And in my head, I’m screaming, “Beth! Beth! Beth!”

So yeah. Super intrigued by this episode. They’re setting up some really intriguing things and it will be very interesting to see what happens moving forward.

What did everyone else think of the episode?

[manychocolatefactories]

CatCF Ruby Chocolate: Part 1, Kids and characters

This version is the last of the "four main versions". It is named after the new, fourth type of chocolate discovered in 2004 but only publically released in 2017. It is a modern version, supposed to take place in the 2010s. In this version, there are six Golden Tickets released in the world.

First Winner: Augustus Gloop

(Based on: Augustus Gloop)

This version of Augustus was inspired by the 2013 musical, more specifically by the idea of a cute little boy that eats "pigs limbs from limbs", and also swallows whole little dogs. So, something quite dark.

Augustus has a very cute face. A chubby, angelic face, like the puttis of the Renaissance paintings: blond curls, puppy eyes, a radiant smile. If he wants, he can make your heart melt like the video of a little kitten purring.

But Augustus is hungry. All of the time. He eats and snacks all day long. He dreams of food. He sleep-walks to eat. And while he adores candies and chocolate, there is one thing he loves more than anything else: meat. Meat and blood. He is a true carnivore, for him every meal rhymes with "meat". And if you leave him unattended, he will try to get meat by himself. For exemple, by attacking a living pig and devouring it on the spot. Or by biting off the fingers of a plump woman. But, of course, all of that with a cute smile and while saying sorry in the most adorable way.

Nowadays, if your cute you must be innocent, and thus forgien.

Augustus' body is not as cute as his face. It is said to be a "bloated mass of pink flesh", actually very similar to the body of a pig. His fatness is described as "ill-fitting", as if it was "forced" onto his body. His overweightness is not natural. It is puffy, flabby, bloated, but doesn't feel "natural".

Augustus also always wear ill-fitting clothes and suits.

Mrs. Gloop is a tiny woman, usually wearing a pale pink skirt suit, with her hair arranged in a crown of braids. She might be tiny, but she is bold, energetic, and speaks both clearly and loudly. She has so much presence, she often intimidates people. She keeps reminding others of how cute her son, and how eating makes him grow strong. She insists that she is a good mother who makes sure her son eats of everything (to have a balanced diet), eats well (by giving him only the finest and best-quality products (such as the Wonka bars and not their cheap rivals knock-offs), and of course, she only feeds her son because he "needs nourishment".

And don't dare criticize her, or she will scream so much, so hard and so high your ears will bleed. Just like the "original" Mrs. Gloop, this one keeps pointing out the "hooligans", saying it is better to stay at home eating food than being a violent thug on the street. My iteration sincerely believes that violence and criminality is due to poverty, hunger and lack of food, and if everyone was well-fed the world ould be at peace.

(For her, think of Mrs. Gloop the original, mixed with Bernadette from the Big Bang Theory )

Mr. Gloop (full name, Gordon Gloop, parody of Gordon Ramsey) is the son of a butcher, and the grandson of a slaughterhouse worker. He was always knee-deep in blood, and as a result grew accustomed to killing animals and cooking them (in fact the sight of blood makes him peckish). He is a tall and strong man, but suffers from a bad sleep due to his wife's horribly loud snoring.

He tried to teach his son the refinment of haute cuisine, for Mr. Gloop is a world-renowned cook, but to his disappointment Augustus only cares for raw meat and drinking blood-dipped candies. Mr. Gloop is so obsessed with having good dishes and best-quality ingredients, he keeps at the back of his house a little barnyard full of cattle (if he ever has to serve some steak or ribs to his guests). Trouble is, Augustus keeps sneaking into said barnyard to devour the poor animals.

Second Winner: Elvira Entwhistle

(Based on: Veruca Salt)

Veruca Salt being a pretty solid and complete archetype in herself (the girl who wants it all and has her parents buy her all), it is quite hard to reimagine her. So, I tried thinking about "why" she wants things - given the actions are settled and confirmed, it is the goals that are important, the motivation. And , in our time of modernity, what makes people want things? Trends, fashions, what is "in".

This reinterpretation of Veruca, named Elvira Entwhistle (after one of the old drafts names), is a mix between Chanel Oberlin from Scream Queens and Esmé Squalor from a Series of Unfortunate Events. She is a girl living for trends, for fashions, buying and acquiring all of the latest things "in", only to discard them as soon as they are "out" or not trendy anymore. Spending her time on social media, following models and influencers, she keeps going to luxury shops with her "personal assistant" (a nice name for what is a modern slave) to buy accessories, jewels, clothes, pets and whatever corresponds to the current trend.

Spoiled, impatient, self-centered and short-tempered, she needs to have the latest fashion NOW or she will get insanely angry. She also doesn't hesitate to change her personal appearance to fit all the new trends (for exemple her hair changes color and shape every week). Of course, she got her Golden Ticket because it was the current trend. Everyone was searching for it, so she had to get a Ticket to be the most "in" person around.

 Third Winner: Mike Teavee

(Based on: Mike Teavee)

For this version of Mike Teavee, I wanted to get away from the usual hyperactive and hyper-violent kid. I wanted to take back this common idea that television makes you stupid and sluggish, by making Mike the perfect embodiment of a couch potato (even though he was designed to look at the same time like a mushroom and a zombie).

Mr. and Mrs. Teavee are hard-working people, who spend their entire week working and only come back at home for very brief periods of times (usually in the week-end) before going right back at work. As a result, Mike barely knows his parents. He doesn't even know what kind of work they do. To "babysit" their son, the Teavees bought an enormous, high-definition television with a 666 channels pack, and kept telling him to not go outside due to the outside world being "dangerous" and filled with crushing bikes, killing cars, kidnappers and the like. This is how Mike began his life as a shut-in.

Spending his days looking at the television, never going outside, he ended up closing all shutters because light bothered him. Living in the dark, barely lifting his body from the couch, he only survives on candies, snacks, television-plates and microwaved/defrosted food (and the Teavee family can afford to buy a lot of it, because they are really, really rich - Mike has accounts in three different banks).

The result? A chalk-white boy. A bloated ans shapeless body. A full-moon face covered in craters and scars due to a bad case of acne. Two dead, sunken, small eyes. Speakin slowly, and often pronouncing only half of the words, Mike refuses to answer or talk to anyone while television is on : he only speaks during "uninteresting advertisements". The only thing muscular in his body are his fingers, that got a lot of muscle mass due to twitching frenetically all day long on the remote to channel-hop.

Mike is actually a very intelligent boy, but all his cleverness and intellectual gifts are buried and wasted by the brain-washing of his shut-in life and his television obsession. He got his Golden Ticket because his parents often buy him Wonka bars as "television snacks". Even though, in his own words, he prefers food that "tastes like plastic".

Fourth Winner: Violet Beauregarde

(Based on: Volet Beauregarde)

What is Violet, originally? She is a girl that seeks fame and attention, that is snarky, that is nasty towards people, and that does stupid records. What reflects that perfectly in our day and age? Reality television shows!

Violet Beauregarde was strongly inspired by the most brainless and "sassy/nasty" stars of reality television and the Internet. She is a teenage girl wearing clothes of such bright, flashy and clashing colors it often hurts people's eyes. Her face is covered in makeup, her hair is covered in extensions and her hands are covered with fake fingernails.

She thinks she can be as rude and horrible as she wants, as long as she calls it "sassy". But on the other side, she considers "rude" anyone or anything that doesn't please her, or that is too "ugly" or "dirty" for her. She is the kind of girl that keeps screaming loudly "YAAAAAAASSS, bitches!" and "DAAAMMMNNNN", that calls herself "the queen", that chews ferociously on her gum all day long, and that says "Why are you touching me? See, you're touching me again!" while she is the one hitting people. She hates everything "old" and "boring". She keeps publishing musical albums that nobody actually buys, because she sings badly mere words (her singles being titled "Lalalala" and "Heyheyheyhey" - she never understood a song needed to have lyrics). Finally, her biggest dream is to be part of a TV-reality show.

Her father, Mr. Beauregarde, feeds his daughter's "bitchy diva" attitude and her delusions of grandeur by acting as his agent (just like in the 2013 musical). He is also the "ringleader" of Violet's circus (because Violet, with her clothes of ridiculous colors, and her enormous amount of makeup, has a clown subtext). As a result, Mr. Beauregarde is like a ringleader in acircus, a showrunner in a freak show, and also an agent. He "sells" his daughter, he organizes her interviews, he has people pay money for "extra time" with Violet, he shows her around, and finally he uses his whip (yes, he has a whip) to attack all those that try to "touch the product".

He is a short, flabby and balding man, that smokes very long and thick cigars, wears enormous rings and clothes that are garrish and clownish - his over-the-top and ridiculous fashion sense is clearly a compensation for what he lacks in height, hair and health.

 Fifth Winner: Marvin Prune

(Based on: Marvin Prune)

In the original drafts of Roald Dahl, Marvin Prune was a Mr. Know-it-All, a too-perfect schoolboy obsessed with studies, an arrogant bookworm, a haughty teacher's pet, you named it. In this version, i decided to keep the idea of Marvin being a "know-it-all", but instead of using school, books and the like, he rather uses modern technology and the Internet.

Marvin is a tech-obsessed boy. He lives for, with and through technology, to the point of neglecting to live in the real world. He thinks his over-use of technology, and all the knowledge it can provide him, make him an "intelligent" and "superior" boy (when in fact it does not).

He thinks he can claim to have been everywhere in the world because he visited virtually all the most important landmarks of the world. He claims he can speak all the languages in the world, but in fact he uses translation websites. He keeps tracks of all his bodily functions thanks to health monitors (heartbeats, blood pressure, cholesterole...) but not because he is concerned for his health, merely for the sake of knowing more things. For him, Googling something is the best solution to all your troubles, and as a result he is a self-centered and pompous boy.  

Due to his technology dependance, Marvin is actually quite a weak boy. Since he doesn't do any sport or physical activity, and since he rarely leaves his house (due to always ordering things online, having classes online and visiting places virtually), he is a quite thin and frail boy, if not emaciated - at least, a good chunk of his muscle mass has melted away.

The original parents of Marvin Prune were, in Dahl's works, teachers and school principals. I decided here to go with the opposite of a teacher : Mrs. Prune never does anything herself, and always blame it on others. There are problems in the world? For her people should fix it, but they are too lazy to do it - while she herself does nothing about it. Her son acts rude? "Someone should teach him good manners" she says. She loses all of her money? "That's because the people in charge of the economy are all incompetent!"

Mrs. Prune thinks of everything and everyone as stupid because it allows her to blame all of her problems and flaws on other people. But ultimately she never takes any kind of action herself. If someone should teach her son good manners, it is "those lazy teachers at school", certainly not her! She also dislikes things that are "foreign".

Marvin found the Golden Ticket when he ordered by mistake a chocolate bar in France : in truth, he wanted to buy a "tablet" (in French a tablet is tablette, and a chocolate bar is also a tablette de chocolat).

Marvin will also be incredibly frustrated inside Wonka's factory, because in there numeric devices mess up, stop weirdly or disfunction totally (the same way UFOs tend to mess up phones, radios, computers and the like). As a result, he becomes powerless and helpless.

 Sixth Winner: Charlie Bucket

(Based on: Charkie Bucket)

Here, I decided to really twist things up. To have a Charlie Bucket that isn't thin or malnourished, but fat! Yes, here's Chubby Charlie! (No, not Fat Charlie, this one is copyrighted)

Charlie's story is deeply linked to the story of the Wonka factory. The town Charlie lives in was built around the Wonka Factory a bit before the 20th century - it was a "worker town", created to allow the workers of the factory to live with their family next to their place of work. For more than fifty years the Factory was the only occupation and work of the town. But somewhere in the 1950s or 1960s, all the workers had to take an early retirement. They were kicked out, and the Factory closed to the public. The Factory was still working, but not hiring anyone anymore. This was an enormous blow to both the town's economy and moral. There was an economic crisis and poverty (since people were trained only to work in a candy factory).

But there was one good thing: since it was the town Wonka's products were created in, they were sold at must cheaper prices than anywhere else in the world, and all the ex-workers of the Factory got in exchange for their work coupons and reductions for themselves and all of their families - reductions on the Wonka products, of course. This was seen as a chance, because the Wonka products were world-renowned candies, even luxury goods in foreign countries. It was like being able to buy haute-couture as daily clothes and eat gastronomic cuisine every week-end.

But this good wasn't so "good". Indeed, given the poverty and lack of job in town, the ex-workers and their family relied more and more on the coupons and reductions, their diets filled with candy and sugary products. As a result, from the 1970s to the 2010s, the number of people suffering from obesity, diabetes and teeth problems blew up.

[ This background is actually a mix of two different real-world fact. Real-world fact 1: the Menier Chocolate Factory in France, aka the real-life Wonka Factory, was revolutionary for creating a town for its workers, and taking care of their health, education and the like, but closed after World War II, to the deception of everyone. Real-world fact 2: Coca-Cola, Nestlé and other big food industries tend to pay their employees with extra-sugary and extra-addictive if their own products in poor areas, such as South America - resulting in sicknesses and diseases.]

As a result, in this version Charlie is fat. Because in modern days, and in developped countries, poverty and malnourishment actually leads to obesity and diabetes, due to the cheapest food being candies and junk-food.

This version of Charlie is a very nice kid, but a kid addicted to the Wonka products. He grew up on the coupons, due to his family all being ex-workers. Grandpa Joe and Grandpa George both worked at the factory, but were too old or sick after being fired to find a new job ; Mr. and Mrs. Bucket had been trained for the factory and could barely afford new studies after its closing. Mr. Bucket became a street cleaner, while Mrs. Bucket became a receptionist and secretary for a dental office (due to the rise of tooth diseases, dental offices boomed in town, but most are actually crooked or scams).

Charlie grew up in a very humble home, with two parents working really hard to have enough money to buy food for everyone. Of course, fresh or good food is too expensive. Charlie tries to help his family the best way he can with his part-time job (making people fill surveys) and by working really hard at school. But as the years go by, his weight and his health are beginning to cause problems. Due to not having any money he can't do sports, wich makes him gain weight, and the fattest he is the hardest it is to do sport, it's a vicious circle. Every year, the scale reveals he puts on more and more weight, and faster and faster - if he doesn't do something quick, he may end up obese.

And, as I mentionned before, Charlie is truly obsessed with the Wonka products, it is an addiction. He dreams of them at night. He sticks Wonka bars wrappers on the wall of his room like posters. He drools at the mere mention of a Wonka bar. He isn't spoiled, cruel or nasty, but he is too addicted for his own good. In fact, when he finds money in the stret and buy chocolate bars with it, it is a pure act of selfishness, because he doesn't have the willpower to turn away from the candy shop and go back home.

[fatesdeepdive]

Entry 10: Geneva Convention Speedrun

Before doing anything else, I built a Prison in the castle so I can test out Orochi’s personal skill. Birthright allows the player to replay old maps for EXP, so I tested it out on one of those maps. I had Orochi go up to a random enemy soldier and use her Capture ability, which knocked him out. When I got back to the castle, he was imprisoned. I had my most terrifying, intimidating soldier, Sakura, go into his cell and convince him to join us. She screamed a bunch like she was being murdered and then walked out with our new soldier: Kenshi the Oni Savage.

Kenshi

Why am I even doing a character profile on this guy? He’s a generic enemy I kidnapped. Whatever, he’s part of the team now. I shall treat him with love and respect.

Hey, minor thing that’s unrelated to anything that I feel like mentioning: the Geneva Conventions forbid forcing POWs to fight for you. Corrin is a war criminal. I mean, that isn’t big news, considering the fact that Sakura is by definition a child soldier, but still. So many war crimes.

Speaking of child soldiers, we got Hayato at the end of last chapter.

Hayato

Hayato is another Diviner and the son of Fuga, the buff dude we fought last chapter. His personal skill makes him fight better against higher level opponents, which is fitting for a character with an inferiority complex. Personality wise, he seems kinda rude about characters treating him like a kid, which is dumb because he is a kid. Maybe the game will do something with his wanderlust. Is it just me or does Hayato look a lot like Ricken from awakening? I mean, they aren’t identical like CERTAIN CHARACTERS, but they’re both short young mages wearing blue with red hair and brown eyes. It’s weird. Speaking of his design, I think Hayato’s is fine? It isn’t bad, it’s just kinda okay. Way too similar to Ricken’s though.

Support: Azama/Setsuna

C: Setsuna does chores and Azama sarcastically mocks her. Setsuna is too stupid to understand that he’s being a dick.

B: Setsuna tries cooking. She makes food that is unholy.

A: Setsuna, thanks to Azama’s sarcastic advice, goes into a zen state and creates the greatest meal Azama has ever had.

S: Setsuna proposes to Azama.

Review: A very shallow support line, admittedly. Setsuna’s incredible stupidity is amusing, but Azama comes off as a jerk and the two of them do not work as a couple.

Support: Kaze/Saizo

C: Kaze asks Saizo about his quest to avenge their murdered father, pointing out that Saizo is motivated solely by his desire for revenge and loyalty to Ryoma. Saizo hints that there may be something else fueling him before running off.

B: Kaze challenges his brother to a duel, under the condition that Saizo comes clean if Kaze wins. Saizo decides to just explain things to Kaze. Years ago, Saizo confronted the man who murdered their father but failed to kill him, losing his eye in the process. Saizo hid this fact for years out of shame.

A: Kaze apologizes for allowing Saizo to carry the burden of his revenge alone and vows to make amends, promising to become Saizo’s new eye.

S: This is a great support line that expands Saizo’s backstory, explaining his scars and grumpy mood, while also establishing a solid relationship between the ninja brothers.

Support: Hinoka/Sakura

C: Sakura, while watching her sister train, laments that she isn’t brave and tough like Hinoka.

B: Hinoka praises Sakura for her kindness, stating that their love for their family members is what they have in common.

A: Sakura and Hinoka decide to train each other. They hug.

Review: A sweet, but ultimately lacking support line. I do like Sakura’s feelings of inferiority and desire to have Hinoka be proud of her, but ultimately this support line is just the two of them explaining things we already knew.

Support: Corrin/Hayato

C: Hayato is sending charms back to the Wind Tribe. Corrin encourages him to send a letter with them. Hayato freaks out, because he’s never written a letter before.

B: Corrin helps Hayato write a letter, recommending that he tell his family that he isn’t scared of ghost stories any more. Hayato objects, and instead writes about his battle prowess. On Hayato’s suggestion, Corrin also decides to write a letter.

A: Hayato sends off his letter and Corrin gives him hers, which is filled with her gushing about how awesome he is and embarrasses him. Hayato decides to write an embarrassing letter for Corrin in response.

S: Hayato writes a letter about how cute Corrin is and how he’s in love with her. They get engaged.

Review: This support was...weird. It’s a “comedic” support, but it isn’t very funny. The letter writing concept is odd, but I suppose it makes sense for Hayato. I will say that this one flows into the S-Rank conversation better than most, but that’s about all that works.

Paralogue 1: Tragic Start

Fire Emblem games often feature side levels called Paralogues. Most of the Paralogues in Fates are linked to a specific route, so I’ll be doing them after their route is done. The exception is Paralogue 1, which is available for all three routes and will be done now.

The chapter opens by showing a herd of faceless destroying a small village and killing the mother of Mozu, one of the villagers. Team Corrin hears the screams and runs in to save the day. They find Mozu cowering in a thicket, hiding from the faceless. Corrin comforts her over the death of her family and Mozu decides to fight to avenge her family, joining the army.

Mozu

Mozu is our obligatory small child who can’t fight but has really good stat growths because of her personal skill. Like Donnel from awakening. Honestly, identical to Donnel from Awakening. To be fair, she does have some characterization about her being the sole survivor of her village, which might come up in supports. Her design is fine; a bit plain, but that works for her character. I am unnerved by how young she looks for a character in a game about soldiers and marriage, though.

The enemies in this chapter are fairly weak. I bolted Corrin over to Mozu with Subaki and recruited her. I decided to try and have Mozu kill as many faceless as possible, to avenge her dead family. Mozu can’t take a hit and does one damage, or zero in some cases, but it was doable. I positioned her next to Corrin, made sure to only fight one enemy at a time, had Hana weaken enemies with a kodachi, and healed Mozu constantly with Sakura. After thirty-three long turns, Mozu killed all of the faceless and reached level eight. Still, it was worth it. Those seven levels of high growths made her go from doing one damage per hit to doing five.

After the battle, Mozu is left wondering what to do with her life since, you know, everyone she ever knew is now a corpse. Corrin suggests she join the team, but only until they find a good home for her, because Mozu is a child and they are an army. Mozu decides to join their cause, despite having literally no idea what they’re fighting for.

So that’s another child soldier. God, child soldiers, forcing POWs to fight for you, invading Hoshido and killing border guards, killing enemy medics...Corrin’s speedrunning the geneva conventions.

[kaluawoo]

OC Character Ask

Tagged by @nyanberri​! I have too many OCs to choose from so I’ll uhhh just take Lexy/Lexie/Lexi I guess bc she’s my KH OC and I’ve met you through KH. and bc I need to flesh her out more Putting it under a cut for length and some KH spoilers until like KH3-ish

Tagging @silverfeathers to do it too :3

1. Do they have a morning routine that they do to get ready for the day? What about a night routine?

Aside from the standard get dressed, brush teeth, etc, not really.

2. Is there anything specific that they need before they go to bed? A night light? Warm milk? Maybe a story?

She didn’t before, but after she and her family got attacked by Shadows, she started writing a journal each night, and some nights she needs a night light.

3. Do they have a skin care routine? If so is it long or short?

Not really skin care, but she’s tried out a lot of scar creams. I’d put more info but all google gives me is “How to get rid of scars” and not “How to make sure they don’t feel uncomfortable”

4. Do they like tight clothes or loose clothes?

Either is fine as long as it’s colorful, she’s basically a walking rainbow.

5. What is their favorite color?

Do you have to make her choose...? I guess if she has to, she likes dark blue, the sky just after sunset. Or the red of Axel’s hair and the black of his coat

6. What kind of stuff do they dream about? What do they have nightmares about?

Most of her dreams are those weird dreams that make you go “????” but when you think a bit you can easily decipher which happenings during the day caused what part of the dream. Nightmares, though, usually have to do with her or people she cares about getting cornered by a hulking black mass with piercing yellow eyes.

7. Do they have any special talents? Singing? Dancing? Playing an instrument?

Well it’s definitely not playing poker, Lexi can’t do a pokerface to save her life lmao. She’s gotten a little bit of training with different weapons, but not much, like, Sora’s experience with wooden swords was probably better than what she can do at the start of her journey.

8. Are they active? If so what do they do? Workout? Play a sport?

She’s gotten Axel, Demyx, Roxas, and Xion to teach her a little bit of fighting cringe is dead my OC is friends with half the Org deal with it but not a lot tbh, especially since it’s several different fighting styles that she now knows the basics in, but none she’s actually good at.

9. What is something that they are really passionate about?

“Listen Nobodies DO have emotions, I HAVE BEEN HANGING OUT WITH THEM FOR AGES, EVEN THEY REFUSE TO BELIEVE IT because they’re all IDIOTS, but trust me I know that!”

10. Do they ever have a self care or 'me’ day? If so, what do they do?

Lexy is a total extrovert and loves company, so a “me” day usually still involves hanging out with other people. Maybe if she really just wants to relax, hanging out with Demyx specifically and listen to him play the sitar.

11. What’s something they’re secretly really insecure about? Is it something physical or maybe something related to who they are or what they identify as?

Her non-existent fighting skills. Lexie kinda-sorta joins Sora’s group for the timeline of KH2, and she tries but especially at the start she’s just... Not good at it. And if she faces Shadow Heartless she has almost no chance because she tends to freeze up then. She does get better at fighting over time though.

12. Have they ever dated? If so, how did their last relationship end?

She’s probably had a few dates as a teen, maybe a partner, but nothing too serious. She’s (with almost no success) trying to hide that she’s got a crush on Axel/Lea, and they finally get together around DDD.

13. Do they care about quality or quantity with their work?

When it’s for friends, quality, otherwise she’s kinda just “eh, good enough” for stuff.

14. What is their favorite scent?

The smell of a campfire. Heat in general is nice (hot water smells different than cold water I swear), but campfires especially.

15. What is their favorite genre of music?

Lexi’s fine with whatever tbh, but it varies a bit on her mood. If she’s stressed or just wants to chill, she’s taken a liking to sitar music, otherwise she really likes pop.

16. What do they usually have for a midnight snack?

Nothing, usually.

17. Have they ever snapped because of what someone said or did to them? If so what happened? Do they regret it and did they apologize?

Theoretically that scene isn’t written yet, buuuut. Lexie’s best friend is Demyx. Sora is not exactly sad about killing her best friend. I’d say it’s pretty damn understandable for Lexie to get pissed off in that situation. She’s very emotional in general so probably snapped at people in general when it came to the topic of Nobodies; sometimes she’d apologize, but not always.

18. Do they have any kind of medical condition? If so what? Asthma, kidney disease, etc.

Well I’m pretty sure having her parents and almost herself killed in a Heartless attack could’ve caused PTSD, so I need to do some research on that before writing more with her.

19. Have they ever had a panic attack? If so, what caused it and how were they able to calm down?

Well, I’m pretty sure seeing the monsters who killed your parents and seeing your friends and crush killed in front of you can cause those - The Shadows moreso directly, while the friends/crush stuff usually needed a while to really hit. Like, so much happening it once, that a few hours or days afterwards it hits her all at once and she just. Curls up somewhere.

20. What are they genuinely afraid of?

Shadow Heartless, and losing people she cares about (yeah she’s gonna suffer). As for the Shadows, she knows there’s stronger and more dangerous Heartless around, but the Shadows scare her the most.

21. How organized are their living spaces? Do they keep things clean or are they disorganized?

“Damn girl you live like that?” Her room’s chaos, but somehow she always knows where stuff is.

22. If they ever had a YouTube channel, what would they make videos about?

Pretty scenery videos around Twilight Town. The view from the clock tower, pretty places in the woods around the city, etc.

23. Do they have a birthmark or any scars? If so how do they feel about them and how did they get their scars?

Lexi’s pretty much covered in scars. Her family wanted to get out of Twilight Town when the Heartless started becoming more and more, but didn’t make it all the way to the train station - Lexy’s parents got killed in the attack, and Lexy almost died. Her little sister is the only one who got away without physical damage.

24. Are they the type to start or finish fights?

Hm... Neither and both. Lexi can get worked up quickly, so arguments with her might get heated, but she usually wouldn’t start an actual fight, especially since she calms down pretty quickly, her emotions burn hot and bright but not long.

25. Do they like cuddling? If so are they a big spoon or a little spoon?

Yes.

26. Do they prefer baths or showers?

Baths, though she usually takes showers because it’s quicker.

27. How do they sleep? Do they stay in one position all night or do they toss and turn? Do they snore or talk in their sleep?

Lexi sometimes mumbles in her sleep, and she moves around a lot. That’s how you can tell she has a nightmare: She moves almost not al all when she has one.

28. How touch starved are they? Would they like a hug right now?

Technically not touch starved, but yes, she’d love a hug.

29. What are their favorite kinds of foods? Sweets, sour foods, salty, etc?

She likes all of them on occasion, but she’s especially fond of spicy food and all kinds of curry.

30. Do they still have anything from their childhood? If so what and why? A stuffed animal, a piece of jewelry, a book, etc?

She’s got a stuffed animal that belonged to her little sister, and a few of her own. Other than that a few trinkets that were gifts from friends, but most of them are too recent to be called “from her childhood”.

[moonflower-31]

A Wish Your Heart Makes - Gabriel x Reader

Warnings: Language, definitely. Mention of sex? For you ace folks. And description of stabing? Its a djinn hunt, so you get the picture.

Character(s): Gabriel, Dean, Castiel, Sam, + alternative versions of all of them. You'll see.

Pairing: Gabriel x Reader

~~~~~

"Come on, this is like, the biggest hunt we've been on since... since Amara. We should celebrate." Dean says, grinning widely.

You shook your head and laughed. "I don't know about that. That hunt down in Kentucky was pretty wild." You point out. Sam smirked.

"Really? You think, Zombies, was the biggest hunt? When we just fought like three Djinn?" Sam asks, walking towards the Impala with you and his brother.

You rolled your eyes again. "Wendigo, Samuel. It was a Wendigo, not a zombie. I should know. I was the one who saved your ass." You remind, pointing at Sam with your blade that was dripping with lamb and Djinn blood.

Dean chuckled and clapped his hands. "Oh Sammy, they got a point." He points out, smirking at his brother as he gets into the Impala.

Sam rolled his eyes and got in, ignoring his brother. "Forget it. Let's just go. I'm sure we can celebrate at the bar near the bunker." Sam grumbled, and closed his door.

You laughed and moved to the trunk to put the blade away. You popped the trunk and slid the blade away as you heard a wrustle in the bushes. You immediately grabbed a flashlight and shined it into the woods, finding nothing. You shrug it off as being some strays or wildlife and get back into the car. 

~~~~

"Come on Sam! They've got a two for one deal on whiskey shots! You wanna go?" Dean asks, challenging Sam to some shots.

You snicker as you climb out of the Impala after the brothers. They had been bickering as to who got the last kill on the hunt on the way there, and then you had suggested that they all get a few shots then go home. That's what led to this conversation. 

Sam rolled his eyes. "Come on, Dean. We aren't 27 anymore." He protests, closing the door to the Impala. "But fine. I can drink you under the table. As long as you let Y/N drive us home." Sam says, walking up to the door with Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Fine. But only this once." He says, pointing at Sam. "If you scratch or even put a single dent in her, you're dead, hear me?" He says, looking at you with dead seriousness in his eyes. You expected nothing less.

"Of course Dean. What? You think I would take this chance to damage her as much as I can without a drunk Dean noticing? Do I look like I wanna get skinned alive?" You reason, raising an eyebrow and smirking at him.

Dean ponders this for a moment before he nods. "Fine. Okay. Just don't wait up, alright?" He says, patting Sam's back before racing into the bar with Sam trailing behind him.

You chuckle to yourself as you begin walking towards the door yourself, before you see something move along the side of the bar. You furrow your eyebrows, following the noises as you take out your knife.

One step in front of the other, you make your way towards the side of the bar, trying to see with the limited light of the neon bar signs. You curse your eyes silently, for not being adjusted to the night as you walk slowly forward.

The closer you get, the more uneasy you feel. You feel tempted, to call out for someone to answer, but reconsider. You fish out your phone and dial Dean's number, and hear it ring once, then twice, as you look around. Then you feel your body being shoved against the brick wall of the bar, making you drop your phone.

You cry out in pain as the brick scrapes against your skin and you feel someone touch your temples. You look forward and see a younger Djinn, who smirked at you as the blue light began to emit from your fingers.

"Close your eyes sweet thing~" it warned, as you felt your eyes close unwillingly, and you fell unconscious. 

Suddenly, you open your eyes and jolt up in bed. Your chest heaves with fear. Was... was that a nightmare? That...

Now nothing was coming up. You couldn't recall anything of your dream. Your breathing didn't slow down though.

"Sugar?" You hear. You furrow your eyebrows and look up to see Gabriel, in his red boxers and a white, clean tank top. You blush a bit, and look up at him, and into his eyes. They were full of worry, but still shone their natural whiskey toned wonder.

"You alright? You were screaming in your sleep, cupcake." Gabriel asks, coming over to your side. You rubbed your eyes for a moment, blinking a few times as Gabriel wrapped an arm around you.

What was going on? He never did this. He never even attempted this before. Sure you, had your crush and Sam and Dean teased you about it, but you never told Gabriel how you felt. Why would you? It was a silly, puppy crush. That lasted for around 8 years now. But who's counting?

You furrow your eyebrows for a moment, and look up at him. "What are you doing? You...never hold me like this." You ask. Gabriel looks at you like you just said the weirdest thing in the world.

"Haha, what?" He asks, giving you a questioning look. "Sugar, I hold you every chance I get. So I can feel that sexy body of yours. And keep you as close as I can." He smirked, winking at you. You second guess yourself for a few minutes. Yeah... yeah that was right. You two were together...but why were you in a bed that wasn't in the bunker?

"Where...are we?" You ask. Gabriel chuckled again.

"At home, Sugarplum, where else would we be? I bought this place myself. Of course with your help." He says, as if reminding you. You focus your gaze forward for a moment, and then look back up at Gabriel.

"O...okay... uh... I'm fine... yeah... just a nightmare." You say, looking into his eyes. He smiled, almost in relief. 

"Good. I gotta get to making the apple pie. Dean is going to kill me if I don't make it right." Gabriel smirked and kissed your cheek as he gets up and starts walking out of the room. You stand up in confusion.

"W-why?" You ask, standing up from bed. Gabriel again looks at you.

"The party? Why else? Did you hit your head when you got up last night?" He asks, chuckling a bit as he walked back over and kissed your forehead. "Try to rest a bit, okay Sugar? We'll leave in a couple hours. If we're late again Cassie will shoot me." He chuckled. 

You looked at him in confusion, tilting your head as you pondered what he said. Gabriel then chuckled.

"Hey, you could rival him in cuteness with that head tilt. You could have a whole contest." He insists, smirking before he leaves the room.

You shake your head a bit. This was odd. Everything felt...right. Gabriel was... what you guessed was human. He was your boyfriend.

You look down at your hand and widen your eyes. Scratch that, husband.

You look around the room for a moment, and then down at yourself. You didn't have half the scars you were supposed to have from hunting.

Then.you look up and turn towards your side of the bed, and see a picture frame. You sit down and take it up into your hands. It depicted Dean and Cas, you and Sam, and Gabriel. All in weird Christmas sweaters with a very Hallmark like 'Happy Holidays!' across the bottom.

You smirk a bit. "I must've fought tooth and nail to get Dean into that..." you think for a moment. Then you put the photo down. You smile a bit to yourself before you look next to it, and find a packet of condoms. You widen your eyes and blush brightly. So apparently you two were sexually active. Perfect.

You pick up the condoms and put them in the nightstand drawer, and then promptly close it. You move over to what you guessed was Gabriel's side of the bed and looked to see a pile of candy wrappers on the table. You smirk to yourself, chuckling. You didn't dare open Gabriel's nightstand drawer as you stood up, and walked over to the closet. You opened it and pulled out an outfit you knew you owned. You smiled to yourself. Maybe all of this was right. And you were just imagining things. Yeah. Probably.

~~~

"You lost them?!" Gabriel asks, clutching at his hair. He was pacing the room as the two mutton heads tried to explain where the hell their friend was. 

Dean sighed, rubbing his forehead. "We didn't lose them, they were taken." Dean says, looking up at the two angels that were now in the room.

"How does that make anything better, Dean?" Castiel asks, his eyebrows furrowed in anger.

Sam sighed. "It... it doesn't. But at least we know that they didn't just walk off." He adds.

Gabriel was fuming at this point. He growled and turned towards the two. "Yeah, they didn't. They were freaking taken! By father knows what because you two were too drunk off your asses to answer their damn phone call!" Gabriel yelled, growling lowly.

Sam and Dean looked down in shame. They knew it was their fault. If they hadn't been so focused on their drinks and celebrating, they would have heard your phone call and have probably been able to help you. But now you were Chuck knows where and were probably being used as a food source.

Gabriel snarled a bit, beginning to pace through the room. Castiel sighed and tried to get Gabriel to calm down.

"Why are you so mad Gabriel? You don't usually show this much care to anyone. Let alone any human." Dean asks, looking up at Gabriel. Gabriel shoots Dean a glare, as if he should know.

"They're my soulmate, Dean. I told you to keep them safe!" He hollered, his eyes slightly glowing with his grace. Castiel held Gabriel back, to keep him from attacking Dean.

"What? Angels... angels have soulmates?" Sam asks. Gabriel rolled his eyes.

"Why do you think that the moment I saw them with you that I took such a specific interest in them? Its a feeling. The one, true feeling that I'm allowed to feel. It draws me to them. And I can't feel it right now. So if they're dead? You're both next." Gabriel deadpans.

Castiel sighed. "Gabriel, please, calm down. You can still feel their life force, correct? Their soul is connected to your grace." Castiel asked.

Gabriel sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I can still feel 'em... I just... I can't feel the draw to them. Thats usually how I locate them." He sighed. "They might be warded..." he suggests, running a hand through his hair.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Wow, and thats the second biggest piece of information I've heard all day." He says sarcastically, getting a glare from Gabriel.

Sam sighed, moving back and forth through the bunker. Then it hit him. "Dean, are you sure we got every Djinn last night? They mentioned being a family. That would mean..." he starts, looking at Dean.

Gabriel furrowed his eyebrows. "You guys were hunting a Djinn and you didn't think to tell me?!" He asks.

Dean sighed. "We didn't think ig was relevant information at the time, okay archdouch?" He asks, grumbling to himself.

Gabriel felt his vessel's blood pressure rising. He couldn't take much more of this. "You listen to me, both of you. Where, the hell, did you two hunt these Djinn? Hm? And where, were they hiding out?" He asks.

Dean looked at Sam and sighed again. "A small town about 3 hours north, and in an abandoned warehouse." Dean answers, looking slowly from Sam to where Gabriel once was, and took a double take when he realized the archangel immediately ran off once he knew what had taken you. 

~~~ 

"Come on, Sugar, we're going to be late!" Gabriel calls from the kitchen. You giggle a bit as you run a hand through your hair, and look yourself over once.

Gabriel's arms wrap around your middle, pulling you against his chest. He kisses your neck playfully, making you squirm and pull away from him.

"Okay okay! Stop it!" You insist. He wiggles his eyebrows at you. "Tease." You add.

Gabriel chuckled. "Come on, Sugarplum. Dean's already gonna shoot me for using Granny's apples instead of the orchard ones he sent me." He says with a laugh as he takes your hand and leads you out of the house and towards a silver car in the driveway. You smile to yourself, laughing a bit as you get in and the first song that comes on the radio was 'Candyman' by Christina Aguilera. 

"Perfect song for you." You tease. Gabfiel lets out a laugh and his hand finds your thigh.

"That, was the old me. Sure, still love sweets, and sex, but only with one sexy person." He purred, booping your nose. You immediately giggle and turn to look out the window.

As Gabriel drives down the road, you begin to see flashes of a world you didn't recognize.

"Where were they?" An echoing voice that sounded like Dean's asks.

A different version of Gabriel lays was looks like you, onto a small couch in a bunker of sorts.

"Warehouse, like you said. The Djinn was a teen. Barely out of it's blue diapers." The other Gabriel says. "But he got to them first. We have to wake them up."

You shook your head as the visions faded. What the hell was that? And what did Gabriel mean by wake you up?

You shook it off, it was probably nothing.

~~~~

"And you're sure this will work?" Gabriel asks, wary of the glass with the 'Dream root' as Dean and Sam called it with bits of his soulmate's hair in it. He turned his nose up at it, groaning at the smell.

Dean sighed. "Yeah. This'll work. It's worked multiple times for us. So yeah. We'll watch your vessel. Just get them to kill themselves in the dream, and then they'll be brought back here, topside." Dean answers. Gabriel exhaled a bit in anger. The mere idea of suggesting that to his soulmate, when their dream could potentially be a good one? What they truly want? He didn't want to take that away, bug he also didn't want them to be taken away from him.

Gabriel nodded in clarification, and sighed, and closed his eyes, taking a large gulp of the drink, and feeling himself get woosy soon after, falling asleep right where he stood, and soon after fell.

~~~~ 

You smile to yourself as you hear the loud noises from inside Dean and Castiel's house. Apparently they were together. Shocker. You climbed out of Gabriel's car and smiled, letting him wrap an arm around you and kiss you softly. You kiss him back, happy for once.

"Oh, I should go say hi to Riot. Ill meet you inside, okay?" You say. Gabriel rolled his eyes.

"I swear it's like you like the dog more than actually being here." Gabriel teased. "Go ahead Sugar. I'll be right inside." He says. You smile and kiss his cheek as you head to the side of the house, only to be hugged tightly by...Gabriel?

"Gabriel? I... I just saw you go inside, why-?" You start.

"This isn't real, Y/N. All of this. It isn't real. That me? Isn't real it's all in your head." This Gabriel explained. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

"Gabe... I don't understand-" you start again.

"You were attacked, alright? By a Djinn. He put you in a dream. Only you can wake yourself up from it. And everyone inside will keep you from doing so." Gabriel warns.

You look at this Gabriel with confusion. "A Djinn? The blue man?" You ask.

Gabriel smiled at your recognition. "Yes! Yes that's exactly what I'm talking about! You need to wake up." He says again.

Yoh shook your head in confusion. "I... I don't... I don't know how..." you ask, looking back up at Gabriel and feeling a strange sense of calm as you looked up at him.

Gabriel sighed and pulled out a knife and handed it to you. "You know how, Sugar. Dean's told you how he did it. Just do it soon. Please. I can't lose you." Gabriel warns. You sigh a bit, and nod to him. You wield the knife in your hand for a moment to plunge it into your stomach, before the other Gabriel started to wrestle with the one you were talking to. You suddenly look up, seeing the other Gabriel and now Dean trying to hold Gabriel away from you.

"Gabe? D...dean?" You ask, taking a step back.

The other Gabriel looks up at you and smiled. "You can stay here, Y/N. You can stay here and be with me. Have kids, get a normal job, get a dog. Maybe a Corgi. You don't have to go back. It's full of suffering. You know that." The other Gabriel says, walking towards you as Dean wrestles the real Gabriel to the ground.

"D-don't listen to them Y/N! Do it!" The real Gabriel cries out, grunting as Dean holds him down.

You furrow your eyebrows as you think, the other Gabriel not giving you time to do so.

"You don't have to go back to pining over this asshat. You can stay here, with me, and we can be together. Like you want. You don't need that. Why don't you give me the knife, and this can all be over." The other Gabriel says, nodding to you in a way the real Gabriel wouldn't.  You instantly furrow your eyebrows farther, taking a step back.

"No-" The real Gabriel starts. "T-this... this isn't real, but y-your feelings are... please, listen to me Sugar..." he starts.

You bite your bottom lip, debating your choice of words. "Are they? Really? Or has this Djinn made those up? Make me believe you'll never really love me back-" you start.

The real Gabriel breaks free for a moment. "They are real, Y/N. I love you. I really do. Alright?" He says, Dean grabbing his arms again.

You widen your eyes for a moment, and look down at thw blade in your hands.

"He doesn't mean what he says. But I mean what I do. You don't have to go back. There's nothing worth going back for." The other Gabriel says, walking forward.

You clench the knife's handle in your hand for a moment, stealing a glance the real Gabriel's way before saying, "Yeah, yeah actually, there is." You say, plunging the knife deep into your chest.

~~~~

You wake up with a jolt, finding yourself in the bunker, and on an old couch. You felt drained, and exhausted. You looked down, not seeing a stab wound. You sighed in relief, and looked up, seeing Sam and Dean who soon came in closer and hugged you tightly.

"Oof... what warranted this? Is it national Winchester hug day and I slept through it?" You tease weakly. You laugh a bit and look over to see Gabriel slowly getting up. You smile a bit at him, although weak.

"Definitely." Gabriel says, smiling at you as he stands up and walks over to you, pulling you into his arms.

You widen your eyes again for a moment, before you leaned into his embrace. It felt right.

"Just, just rest, okay Sugar? They're will be plenty of time to hunt down more monsters tomorrow..." Gabriel says, rubbing your back. "I love you..." he whispers. 

You sigh to yourself, but you give in, and you fall asleep in his arms.

Was the life perfect? Hell no. But was it was good enough. Especially when being carried. But you loved it. And you loved him. And something, deep down inside you, believed he loved you the same.

Perhaps you were right.