#do you honestly really think nine was less arrogant or mean

[bronzeagepizzeria]

i'm so sick of seeing stuff about "ten fumbling rose" like forget media literacy whereee is your empathy. everyone seems to understand just how hurt and traumatised nine is after the time war but you don't want to extend the same understanding to ten! and for fuck's sake. he DIDN'T fumble her. he's the only doctor who ever got a happy ending

[robininthelabyrinth]

I really like your takes on the Nie brothers! Could you maybe do something with NHS being a sneaky little badass (not that he isn't always) and NMJ being all "wait, you thought I was the brother you should be afraid of? I'll be over here laughing while NHS wrecks you in all ways but physically". I know that's not a lot to go off of so I understand if this doesn't click with you

In Here, With Me - ao3 (chapter 3/3)

People never seemed to understand, and Nie Mingjue was honestly tired of trying to explain it to them.

He’d never been especially good with words, or at least he wasn’t on a personal level. He apparently had a talent for speeches, especially wartime speeches made to soldiers in order to buck up their courage and build up their morale; that was easy enough, standing up in front of them and telling them the same sorts of things he’d been telling himself for years whenever the dreary endless sludge of politics and other people’s unwillingness to move themselves even in their own best interest started getting him down. He could use his height to his advantage there, towering over people, and couple that the strength of his voice – he suspected that half the time people didn’t even really listen to him, just looked at him and made conjectures for the rest, and that was just fine by him. Whatever worked.

But when it came to explaining complicated things like his brother…

Yeah, he had nothing.

Nie Huaisang had never been good at the things the Nie sect usually prized – he was a weak cultivator and bad at fighting, and at some point Nie Mingjue had more or less entirely given up on trying to teach him the fundamentals of saber fighting in favor of teaching him a much more narrowly targeted set of skills, designed to help keep him alive in a pinch. Even with that, he’d whined and complained, dragged his feet and resisted…he didn’t even have significant scholarly talents to make up for it, not really. Nie Mingjue had no taste for art, but those who did suggested (in however polite terms they could manage) that Nie Huaisang’s poetry was wretched, his composition barely serviceable, his attempts at philosophy convoluted and contraindicated, and as for his painting skills…

Well, he could draw birds pretty well.

But he could play a mean game of weiqi, even against Nie Mingjue, and he was lively and personable - nobody ever disliked him, assuming they bothered to pay him attention at all. He liked to barter with merchants whenever he went shopping, and shopping was the one thing he really did do with a passion; he could make the most grim-faced cynic on the street break out into a smile, and collected half a dozen or more free treats every time he went to the marketplace despite them all knowing he could afford their wares if he so wished.

Nie Huaisang, in short, was good for nothing, but he was fun to be around.

He was also – and this was the part Nie Mingjue could never explain to people – one of the most persistent and vindictive sonofabitches to have ever been born.

One would think, wrongly, that Nie Huaisang would have learned to be more forgiving on account of his personal weakness, but in fact, it just seemed to make him even more inclined to get vengeance on those who had wronged him. He bore grudges without ever feeling the weight, as immovable as the mountains – there would be times when something would blow up spectacularly in Nie Mingjue’s face and he’d turn around only to find Nie Huaisang there, smiling at him and reminding him of some grievance from years before.

And that was if he were lucky – if he were unlucky, he’d find himself in some blissful situation, given everything he’d ever wanted, and find Nie Huaisang patting himself on the back for arranging it.

When Nie Mingjue had been forced by the Wen sect’s overweening arrogance to send Nie Huaisang to them for reeducation and indoctrination, about nine-tenths of what he’d felt had been terror, thinking about all the things that the Wen sect could do to his weak little brother who had nothing but good humor to defend himself with. The last tenth, though, had been the lingering thought that he’d been unable to fully banish: I don’t think they know what they’re getting themselves into here.

Sure enough, they hadn’t.

Now, Nie Huaisang hadn’t personally delivered any of the finishing blows there, but then, he never did, preferring to use other people to do it for him - even in vengeance and spying, he was lazy as always. Wen Chao, who had mocked him, had been left to the vengeance of Wei Wuxian with his brand new demonic cultivation; it’d been an ugly sort of death. Wen Zhuliu, who’d threatened him, had ‘accidentally’ gotten his hand broken when Nie Huaisang’s saber had temporarily ‘gone out of control’ and pierced the key meridian of his wrist – those few months of forcing Nie Huaisang to take classes on medicine had clearly not gone to waste – and then been executed by Jiang Cheng with his steely-eyed hatred. Wen Ruohan, who had murdered their father and made Nie Mingjue’s life a living hell for years, had seen his sons murdered, his empire destroyed, his war lost, and in the end had been stabbed in the back by a trusted subordinate.

Throughout, no one had paid any attention to poor little Nie Huaisang, preserved only through the Wen sect's desire to humiliate the Nie sect by using him as a clown.

Even Lan Xichen, who ought to know better, had persisted in comforting Nie Mingjue throughout the war regarding Nie Huaisang’s health, as if Baxia wasn’t full up on all the complaints Nie Huaisang could possibly fit in given the size of his saber and the quantity of his qi. Meng Yao knew, Nie Mingjue supposed, but that was because he was himself another object of Nie Huaisang’s vengeance – he’d find himself with everything he’d ever wanted, the poor man, and in Nie Huaisang’s eternal debt to boot.

Poor, poor man.

It was a good thing for everyone, Nie Mingjue reflected, that he was too virtuous to sic Nie Huaisang on people.

Usually.

“You promised me that Jiang Cheng would be made Chief Cultivator instead of me,” he reminded Nie Huaisang, who sighed dramatically. “Huaisang. You promised.”

“I promised I’d try, da-ge!”

Nie Mingjue crossed his arms and glared.

“It’s a work in progress, all right? I’m going to have er-ge suggest it.”

Nie Mingjue’s eyebrows went up. “Xichen? How?”

“As a wedding present to his new in-law –”

Nie Mingjue held up a hand. “Stop right there. Who’s getting married?”

“Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji,” Nie Huaisang said obediently.

Nie Mingjue thought about their respective personalities and started to detect the start of a headache. “Which one are you punishing for some unremembered petty slight, this time?”

“Neither!”

Nie Mingjue gave him a look.

“…Wei-xiong screwed up helping me cheat on a test, and Lan Zhan bit me.”

“He bit you? How old was he, five?”

“Six! Old enough to know better!”

Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes. “And which one is going to think that they owe you their lives for arranging this?”

“Lan Zhan knows I’m working on it,” Nie Huaisang said promptly, and Nie Mingjue nodded. That made sense: Lan Wangji was honorable and dependable, and would be easy to extract things out of in the future if things went the way he wanted. “Also, Mistress Wen promised to give me anything I want if I can make Wei-xiong stop pining.”

“Mistress Wen? You mean Wen Qing?” Nie Mingjue’s eyes narrowed. “She’s a doctor, isn’t she?”

“Her brother Wen Ning helped poison a whole bunch of Wen sect soldiers one time, very impressive, you’ll like him,” Nie Huaisang said, not answering the question. “It’s the least I can do, really!”

“Huaisang…”

“Listen, if Wei-xiong and Lan Zhan are going to start their own sect up, they’re going to need some support first,” Nie Huaisang said with great dignity. “We’re not taking in the Wen sect, we’ll just be housing them for a little while, that’s all!”

“Huaisang…”

Nie Huaisang grinned at him.

Nie Mingjue threw his hands into the air. There was really no point in worrying any more about Nie Huaisang, he decided – ever since he’d found his talent for spying, and for managing other spies, Nie Huaisang had decided that he was going to rearrange the entire cultivation world to his liking in just the same way he’d rearranged the furniture in his quarters in the Unclean Realm.

No, really, there was no point in worrying for Nie Huaisang.

Now it was time to worry for everyone else.

[dumdumsun]

Forever and Never

A/N: Thank you so much for taking the time to read this series ❤️ I’ve had so much fun writing this and am very proud of and excited for it, I can’t wait to see how people react to this. Um I know there are plenty of warnings for a first chapter, but I promise it’s not as depressing as it sounds. It’s just that this story can deal with heavy stuff sometimes, so I just wanna let you know that. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of marijuana, death, sexual assault and mental illness

Word Count: 3194

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One: Hi, My Name Is

“So, what was your time in Pennsylvania like?”

“Uh… I’d have to say it was the best… and worst time of my life.”

“Best and worst, huh? Would you like to elaborate?”

“Well, I, uh… I mean, I don’t really know how to, like… explain it. It’s a lot. I don’t even know where to begin… Or how I would even word it or anything.”

“Well, you told me you like television and movies, right? You know those shows and movies where the main character tells the plot as, like, their life story? Maybe you could try that.”

“You aren’t… You aren’t serious, are you?”

“You’ll know when I’m joking, trust me.”

“Oh… Okay, then. Well, um…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi? My name is… (Y/N)? This is my life story, I guess.

So, if we’re going to talk about my life in Pennsylvania, we’re going to have to start with my life in Kansas, first. I had two loving parents that soon turned into one at the too-young age of nine years, when my mom died. I remember her as one of the sweetest people I’ve ever known. She had this way about her that was so carefree, yet she gave a shit about everything. You could never pin a thought to her because she never let you in on what was bouncing around in her head. She was stubborn and patient and lively. I miss her so much. I don’t usually think about her unless it’s a particularly hectic day, which I then resort to talking to the ring I wear on my left pinky finger at all times. Wasn’t anything special, just some cheap ring with a little emerald inside she found at a thrift store. It used to be hers and she’d wear it on the exact same finger. My dad said she’d want me to have it.

My dad is my favorite person. He isn’t the most… present, though. His mind is never set in one place, always racing with hundreds of unrelated thoughts. It’s why when you finally drag him back into reality, he can’t repeat a single sentence spoken to him. Regardless, he’s all I had for a long time. I never really learned what he does for a living, but I just know that it forces him to leave town sometimes. Well, more like all the time. Before my mom died, it was easy for him to leave for weeks on end, but when he became my only guardian, he didn’t really know what to do with me. It was like he completely forgot how to take care of a child, his child. When I turned twelve, that was when he started travelling again. I would then be home by myself for a month to eight weeks. In these times, I had no choice but to learn to cook for myself, go grocery shopping and housekeep. I became pretty independent at a young age. It wasn’t like Dad left me totally alone, though. He would call every two or three days and he sent me two hundred dollars every two weeks. Like I said, I don’t know what my dad did, but he was definitely getting paid. At the end of eighth grade, Dad had a particularly long trip to go on, so he sent me to Pennsylvania, where his sister lived.

Pennsylvania was partially the best part of my life because of my family. My Aunt Pam was like a second mother to me. She was never able to have another child after my cousin Jacob and she’s always wanted a daughter of her own, so that’s what I was to her. The daughter she could never have. I’d often find her staring at me with a bittersweet smile on her face, watching my every move with a sense of pride, but when I’d ask her what was wrong she’d only brush it off as her admiring me. My Uncle David didn’t necessarily view me as a daughter, but he certainly treated me like one. When he wanted to spend time with Jacob, he included me as well. We’d usually go on drives around the town, but I always fell asleep to the soft and serene music that filled the car from the radio. On the weekends, we would head down by the lake and spend hours learning to fish.

I hated it, but I couldn’t complain. It gave me a sense of certainty to live with a father figure who didn’t leave me alone every two or three months.

Jacob was like a brother to me. He’s a year older than me, which, to him, meant that he had to protect me at all costs. I always assumed it was because he always wanted a younger sibling, and I was the closest he was ever going to get to that. I always felt as though I’d never be able to equal Jacob on an intellectual level because he practically had the IQ of Albert Einstein himself. I felt inferior to him until I found out how much of a joy he really was. On the weekends, he would beg me to accompany him in a movie marathon. I learned that Jacob was a huge fan of Tim Burton (his favorite was Beetlejuice). He’s the only cousin I’ve ever known. Mom and Dad didn’t like each other’s families, so I never met anyone besides this little family. Moving in with them meant that they’d have this huge burden on them.

Yes, I almost forgot to mention that I struggle with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, or OCD. It just means that my mind is flooded with these crazy and unnecessary thoughts and so my behavior is affected by them. For example, if I were to blink and felt I put more pressure on my left eye than my right, I would have to repeatedly wink with my right eye until they felt balanced. Sometimes I can’t enter a room until I have inhaled eight times. If I scratch an itch on my left knee, I have to scratch the right one in the exact same place. At the sink, even if I don’t use both knobs, I have to hold both in my hands. And when I turn them off, I often have to check about four times before I am certain they’re turned off all the way. I know, it sounds tiring. Just imagine being on my end, having it be a part of who you are. I can’t do anything to stop it, I wish I could. I was always afraid to make friends because of this. If I couldn’t be balanced, I’d freeze, and I mean actually stop whatever I’m doing and stand still, until my body felt as if I were balanced once again. Who wouldn’t make fun of me for this?

Apparently, no one gave a shit about it. After moving to Pennsylvania, I made quite a name for myself at school. Literally. My name was Zip. I have no fucking clue how that ridiculous name came to be, but that’s what I went by day after day. One could say I was considered popular, but it wasn’t like I actually spoke to anyone. When it came to extracurriculars, I only participated in theatre. I never was part of the cast, just the stage manager. Secretly, I wanted so badly to audition and be a part of the magic they created on that stage. Not to boast or anything, but I had the talent and potential to be a starring role. But I could never bring myself to break out of my shell. Nonetheless, being stage manager still got me quite the attention. Everyone was always so nice to me, so I felt a little bad for not considering any of them as friends. That was until I met Dina.

Dina was new to our school sophomore year. She had this sort of light to her that attracted the pesky moths that were our dull and boring school body. We had the same social status in school. People liked our personalities, so we were well-liked and accepted without doing much to prove ourselves worthy. She was sweet and compassionate and so fun. I didn’t mean to become her friend, but she was so welcoming, despite being the newcomer. We became close friends, but not best friends. We already had people filling those roles.

Dina’s best friend was Sydney Novak. Sydney moved to Brownsville around the same time as Dina, so the two became best friends quickly, but Sydney wasn’t very popular at all. She was shy and introverted, but I thought she was nice enough. I liked her and thought she was a pretty cool person. We weren’t necessarily friends, we were just well acquainted simply because we were both close with Dina. The transitive property, if you would. I just wish we could’ve talked more, our relationship was pretty much nonexistent.

Speaking of nonexistent relationships, let’s talk about Richard Berry. I honestly don’t want to even think about him, but he played a role in my life that was too vital to just offhandedly mention. For some odd reason, Ricky Berry was absolutely in love with me. It was so obvious to everyone except for me. Sophomore year, he expressed his love through the most arrogant and cheesiest of pick-up lines and compliments. I wasn’t so easily won over, if you could guess. I tried being good friends with him, but he’d always fuck it up when he tried to initiate intimacy. I didn’t want to hold hands with him in the halls or receive “friendly” cheek kisses. I’m not what you would call affectionate, especially towards people I’m not close to. It’s just never been comfortable for me. Junior year, everyone around me was buzzing with excitement when they heard Ricky was going to ask me to be his girlfriend. The cheerleaders, who got to know him through his high school football career, constantly pestered me with reasons as to why I would be so lucky to date The Richard Berry. Granted, he became less of a dick junior year, so I thought, Why not?, and accepted. Being in a relationship with Ricky was the most one-sided… anything I had ever been a part of. He was undeniably enamored with me, but I couldn’t find it in myself to reciprocate those feelings. He would show me off to his family and friends like a trophy, but if someone asked me if I had a boyfriend I’d go, “I mean, yeah. I guess”, so not a very healthy relationship. It also didn’t help that Ricky knew nothing about boundaries.

One night, we were in his bedroom, studying for a science test. Ricky wasn’t focused at all and kept trying to kiss and cuddle with me. I let him for awhile, but then he took my book from me and set it on the ground beside his bed. He suggested we have sex right then and there. Now, I was never a prude and definitely didn’t wait to have sex for the first time, but I never wanted Ricky to be my first. He hadn’t earned enough of my trust to even touch me suggestively. So, of course I refused. Ricky only took that as me teasing him, so he advanced, nearly forcing himself on me. Using all my might, I shoved him off of the bed. He stood to his feet, utterly confused, but I only gathered my things and left his house. He tried following after me, but I ignored him until he turned and went back into his home. The next day at school, he was holding me and kissing me and showing me off to everyone like he always did. As if nothing happened between us the night before. It was difficult to do, since he was so inconsiderate, but I managed to break up with him. He tried to deny that we were Splitsville for about a week, but everyone caught wind of our break-up. Once everyone knew about it, it became true for him. I never really felt comfortable with being intimate or open with guys after that.

Besides with Stanley Barber, of course. Stan was my best friend in the entire world. I told only my deepest, darkest secrets to him. And he told me his. The only things we really had in common were our lack of mothers and our hideous bacne. Stan lived a few houses down and was eager to get to know me a week after I moved in. I’d never met anyone in my life like Stan. He was so awkward, but loveable. I don’t know, I guess he reminded me of my mom. The way he didn’t care, but he so clearly did. Whenever I wanted to talk about something that was difficult to voice, we’d smoke to ease the tension. Of course, this wasn’t how we always communicated. Despite his nervous stuttering, he was easy to open up to. Stan provided a sort of security in my life. He was never going to leave me and that put me at ease when hanging out with him, which we did regularly. I don’t know when exactly I developed a crush on him, but I never wanted it to surface in our bond. He was to never know. It was just a stupid crush, right? He was a guy who wasn’t family and was so unbelievably caring towards me. It was bound to happen, but that didn’t mean he had to be aware of it. Though, it was a little hard to keep such a secret when we’d both made out twice already. The first time was while I was dating Ricky, the kiss was very awkward and ended after about a minute and a half. The second kiss was just half a week after my breakup. That time, we’d both known what we were doing. And I may be a little biased, but you couldn’t have even thought to fake the passion in that makeout session. We never talked about either of those kisses and remained friends both times. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me that we didn’t become anything more afterwards. It was for the best, though, because two weeks before spring break, my dad returned from his job in Georgia and moved me to Kansas again. The move was so abrupt that I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to anyone besides my family.

My life in Kansas for the second time was something I’d never want to experience ever again. Since it was a little late in the year, I finished junior year online. For some unexplained reason, my dad had us get new phones and new numbers, so I lost all contact with my friends. I had no one to talk to and it wasn’t like my dad paid much attention to me. I remember spending every waking moment with him when I was younger, talking or playing games or watching television. It used to be so fun being his daughter, but when we moved back to Kansas, I just felt like this huge burden in his life. Our relationship was strained and he clearly had other priorities in his life. Like whatever he left back in Georgia. I’d see his phone ring and the same number from that state would pop up before he’d leave the room and privately talk with whoever. It wasn’t the secrecy that was off-putting to me, it was the fact that it was so much more important to him. Once again, I was ignored by the one person in my life I wanted to spend the most time with. So, you can imagine the joy I felt when Dad had to go back to Georgia for work. I had been attending public school for my senior year and left not even a full month in. It didn’t bother me, I had no friends and nothing to leave behind. Mid-September was when I moved back to Brownsville with Aunt Pam. Everyone accepted me right back in. Especially my classmates. As I walked the halls I heard whispers like,

“Oh, my god, is that Zip?”

“Zip’s back! Where’d she even go?”

“I thought she died.”

The only person I really wanted to notice me was Stan. I missed him so much, I even got into his favorite band to have something to remember him by. I remember the day I got back to my aunt’s house. Jacob had picked me up from the airport and was driving me to the house. He was attending community college, but was still living with his parents. As we drove, he tapped his index fingers rhythmically to the shitty pop music that played on the radio. “So, what are you excited about for senior year?”

“Not much, I just missed Dina and Stan. Theatre, too. I wonder how they’ve been doing without me.” I chuckled. Jacob huffed in amusement.

“But you didn’t miss Ricky?”

“Fuck, Jake, you know I didn’t miss him for a second.” I frowned, waving my hand in dismissal. My cousin tauntingly laughed at me. Had he actually known about what happened between Ricky and I, he wouldn’t have teased me. In fact, Ricky wouldn’t even be alive that day if Jacob found out. No one knew about the incident, not even Stan.

Pulling up in front of the house, we got out of the car and headed to the trunk to pull out my bags. I tried carrying them in, but Jacob insisted that he do all the heavy lifting and simply asked me to carry my backpack and close the trunk. I did what little I was asked of and headed to the front door to greet my aunt and uncle inside, but stopped. In the corner of my eye, I saw movement from the Barber residence. Turning, my eyes locked on Stanley, who was frozen beside his car. He was wearing his work uniform and staring at me with the most bewildered expression on his face. It was like he thought himself to be hallucinating my existence. Smiling, I simply waved at him before walking back inside. When he got home from work that night, he headed over to my house and knocked on the door. I answered with a grin on my face. “Stan!”

“If it isn’t the famous Zip, showing back up in my life.”

“Ugh, do not call me that.” I rolled my eyes playfully before bringing him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his chin at the top of my head. I would’ve stayed there all night if I could’ve. When Stanley pulled away, my heart hollowed and a pit formed within my stomach. I felt unfinished, unbalanced. And I hate imbalance. He asked if I wanted to hang out and I accepted his offer. All we did was lay on his floor, listen to music and get high, but in that moment, that’s all I needed.

Bloodwitch, a joint, and Stan laying by my side.

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Taglist: @melinda-hargreeves @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit

[number5theboy]

Please elaborate on how Five could've turned into the most insufferable character to watch

Thanks for asking me to elaborate on this text post:

@tessapercygranger​, @waywardd1​ and @margarita-umbrella​ also wanted to see a more detailed version of it, and I ended up writing an essay that’s longer than some of my actual academic essays. So buckle up.

WHY NUMBER FIVE SHOULD BE THE MOST OBNOXIOUS CHARACTER IN TV HISTORY, AND HOW HE MANAGES NOT TO BE

Number Five: The Concept That Could Go Horribly Wrong

Alright, let’s first look at Five in theory in an overarching way, without taking into account the execution of the show. The basic set-up of the character, of course, is being a 58-year-old consciousness in a teenager’s body, due to a miscalculation in time travel. Right off the bat, Five is bar none the most overpowered of the siblings; by the end of Season 2, no one has yet been able to defeat him in a fight. He is a master assassin – and not just any master assassin, but the best one there is – and a survival expert, able to do complex maths and physics without the aid of a calculator, shown to have knowledge of half a dozen languages, has very developed observational skills and, to top that all off, he can manipulate time and space to the point where he can literally erase events that happened and change the course of history. And Five knows how skilled he is; he is arrogant, self-assured and sarcastic, and his streak of goodness is buried deep inside. David Castañeda once described Five in an interview as 90% chocolate with a cherry in the middle, meaning that you have to get through a lot of darkness and bitterness before knowing there is a good core, and I think it’s an excellent metaphor. However, Five is also incredibly, fundamentally terrible at communicating with anyone, and, because he is the only one with time travel abilities, the character a lot of the actual plot - and the moving forward of it - centres around. Also he’s earnestly in love with a mannequin, who is pretty much a projection of his own consciousness that functions as a coping mechanism for all the trauma he has endured. All in all, this gives you a character who looks like a teenager, but with the smug superiority of a fifty-something, who a) is extremely skilled in many different things, b) has a superiority complex, is arrogant and vocal about it, and most of the superiority is expressed through cutting sarcasm, c) has one very hidden ounce of goodness that he is literally the worst at communicating to other human beings, d) is what moves the plot along but is also bad at talking to anyone else, meaning that the plot largely remains with him, and e) his love interest is essentially a projection of himself. Tell me that’s not a character who is destined to be just…obnoxious, annoying, egocentric, a necessary evil that one has to put up with to get through this show. There are so many elements of this characterisation that can and should easily make Five beyond insufferable, but the show manages to avoid it, and I’m putting this down to three aspects.

That Trick of Age and Appearance

Bluntly put, Five as a character would not work if he was anything else than an old man in a 13-year-old body. Imagine this character and all his skills and knowledge, but actually just…a teenager. Immediately insufferable. Same goes for him being around 30, like his siblings, all of which are stunted and traumatised by their father’s abuse. If Five, being comparatively unscathed by Reginald to the point where he explicitly does not want to be defined by his association with his father, were 30 like his siblings, it would just take the bite out of that plot point and also give him a lot less time in the apocalypse, reducing the impact it had on him as a person. And making Five his actual 58-year-old self would make him very similar to Reginald, at least on surface level, with the appearance and attitude. Five and Reginald are two fundamentally different people, but having one of the siblings being a senior citizen that’s dressed to the nines and bosses his siblings around in a relatively self-centred way does open up that parallel, and would take away from Five’s charm as a character. Because pairing the life experience of a 58-year-old with the appearance of a teenager gives you the best of both worlds. You get the other siblings (and a lot of the audience, from a glance in the tags of my gifsets) feeling protective and paternal about Five, but his age and experience also give the justifications for his many skills, his arrogance, in a way, and his ability to decimate a room full of people. It’s the very interesting and not new concept of someone dangerous with the appearance of something harmless, a child. This is also where Five’s singular outfit comes in. I know we like to clown on Five to get a new outfit, but I think what gets forgotten often is how effective this outfit is at making the viewer take him seriously. The preppy school uniform is the perfect encapsulation of the tension between old man in spirit and young teenager in appearance. The blazer, vest and especially the shirt and tie are quite formal, relatively grown up. They’re not something we, the audience, usually associate with a teenage boy wearing; it makes Five just a little bit more grown up. But there is also a reason characters in this show keep bringing up Five’s shorts and his socks, because those are not things that we associate with grown men wearing; they’re the unmistakably childish part of his school uniform. Take a moment and imagine Five wearing a hoodie or a t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers; would that outfit work for him as well as the uniform does? Would he be able to command the same kind of respect or seriousness as a character? I don’t think so; the outfit is a lot more pivotal in making Five believable than a lot of people give it credit for.

Writing Nuance

The other big building block in not making Five incredibly insufferable is the writing. Objectively speaking, I think Five is the most well-written, and, more importantly, most coherently written character on the show (which does have to do with the fact that the show’s events are all sequential for him), and his arc and personality remain relatively intact over the course of the two seasons. More to the point, a giant part of what makes Five bearable as a character is that he is allowed to fail. He is written to have high highs and low lows, big victories through his skills and his intelligence, but also catastrophic failures and the freedom to be wrong. His superior intellect and skillset are not the be-all end-all of the plot or his character, just something that influences both. His inability for communication has not (yet) been used to fabricate a contrived misunderstanding that derails the plot and left all of us seething; instead, it’s a characteristic that makes him fail to reconnect with the people he loves. This is a bit simplified, as he does find common ground with Luther, for example, but in general, a lot of the rift between Five and his siblings is that they can’t relate to his traumas and he does not understand the depth of Reginald’s abuse, which is an interesting conflict worth exploring. Another thing that really works in Five’s favour is that he is definitely written to be mean and sarcastic, but it is never driven to the point of complete unlikability, and a lot of the time, the context makes it understandable why he reacts the way he does. Most of the sarcastic lines he gets are actually funny, that certainly helps, but in general, Five is a good example of a bearable character whose default personality is sharp and relatively cold, because it is balanced out with many moments of vulnerability. Delores is incredibly important for this in the first season, she is the main focus of Five’s humanising moments, and well-written as she totes the line between clearly being a coping mechanism for an extremely traumatised man and still coming across to the viewer as the human contact Five needs her to be. In the second season, the vulnerability is about his guilt for his siblings, it’s about Five connecting a little bit better to them. There’s also his relationship with the Commission and the Handler specifically – which honestly could be an essay on its own – that deserves a mention, because the Handler is why Five became the man he is, and this dynamic between creator and creation is explored in a very interesting way – their scenes are some of the most well-written in the entire show. And TUA never falls into the trap of making Five a hero, he is always morally ambiguous at best, and it just makes for an interesting, multi-faceted character, well-written character, and none of the characteristics that should make him unlikeable are allowed to take centre-stage for long enough to be defining on their own. I know a lot of people especially champion the scenes where Five goes apeshit, but without his more nuanced characterisation, if he was like that all the time, those scenes would not hit as hard.

Aidan Gallagher’s Performance is Underrated

But honestly, none of the above would matter that much if the Umbrella Academy didn’t luck out hard with the casting of Aidan Gallagher. I think what he achieves as an actor in this show is genuinely underappreciated. Like, the first season set out to cast six adults having to deal with various ramifications of childhood trauma, and a literal child that had to be able to act smart and wise beyond his years, seamlessly integrate into a family of adults while seeming like an adult, traumatised by the literal end of the world, AND had to be able to create the romantic chemistry of a thirty-year-long marriage with a lifeless department store doll. The only role I could think of to compare is Kirsten Dunst in Interview with a Vampire, where she plays a vampire child who, because she is undead, doesn’t age physically, but does mentally, so she’s 400 in a child’s body. And Kirsten Dunst had to do that for a two-hour movie. Five is a main character in a show that spans 20 episodes now. That’s insane, and it’s a risk. Five is a character that can’t be allowed to go wrong; if you don’t buy Five as a character, the entire first season loses believability. And they found someone who could do that not only convincingly, but also likeably. As I said, he is incredibly helped by the costuming department and the script, but Aidan Gallager’s Five has so much personality, he’s threatening and funny and charming and arrogant and heartbreaking. He has the range to be convincing in the quiet moments where Five’s humanity comes to show and in the moments where Five goes completely off the rails. Most child actors act with other children, but he is the only child in the main cast, and holds his own in scenes with adults not as a child, but as an adult on equal footing with the other adult characters. That’s not something to be taken for granted. But even apart from the fact that it’s a child actor who carries a lot of the plot and the drama of a series for adults, Aidan Gallagher’s portrayal of Five is also just so much fun. The comedic timing is on point, he has the dramatic chops for the serious scenes, the mannerisms and visual ticks add to the character rather than distract from him, and his line deliveries, paired with his physical acting, make Five arrogant and smug but never outright malicious and unlikeable. It’s just some terrific acting that really does justice to the character as he is written, but the writing would not be as strong if it wasn’t delivered and acted out the way Aidan Gallagher does. He is an incredible asset for this show.

Alright, onto concluding this rambling. If you made it this far, I commend you, and thank you for it. The point of all of this is that Five, as a character, could have been an unmitigated disaster of a TV character. He is overpowered, arrogant, uncommunicative and could so easily have been either unconvincing or completely unlikeable, but he turned out to be neither. It’s a combination of choices in the costume department, decisions in the writing room, and Aidan Gallagher’s acting skills that make the things that should make him obnoxious and annoying incredibly entertaining, and I hope you liked my long-winded exploration of these. Some nuance was lost along the way, but if I had not stopped myself, this would’ve become a full-blown thesis.

[nightshadedawn]

Writing prompts!!

Select one of the prompts and a ship and I'll write 300 words for it! I'll keep this open for a week!

Prompts are broken up into categories and further numbered within those categories to help everyone quickly find prompts, so please either give me the category and number of prompt or the prompt itself.

Fuck

"Fuck you." "You know what, [name], I've been trying but you haven't been cooperating." "What."

"I don't hate you." "You bought an entire fucking island to avoid me so we wouldn't be roommates our second year of college." "It obviously didn't work out well because we still ended up in Art History together."

"I'm fucked, I'm screwed. I'm gonna faaaaiillll."

"Well, fuck me and leave me to bleed."

"You're crazy." "Yeah, I'm fucking insane!"

"I have fucking questions!"

"You sir- are fucking hilarious."

"I love you but you're a fucking idiot."

"Love- fuck off."

"I'm cute as all fuck, but I'm an asshole if you piss me off."

"Insomnia's a real fucker, you know?"

"Fuck it- just- breathe! Breathe, damnit!"

"You and your bisexual ass can get the fuck out of here."

"Let's fuck the world over, 'cause that's all we're good for."

"Fuck it. We're not done yet."

"Occasionally I tell people to go fuck themselves just to mess with their puny lives."

"I didn't want anyone else. Fuck it, I just wanted YOU."

"You're a fucking bisexual disaster. Don't at me, brah."

"I'm just a sad, mostly human being that doesn't know what they're doing with their life." "Only mostly?" "Granny honestly got it on so who knows what the fuck Mom is."

"I don't mind if you call me a freak, just don't say it to my face. That's really rather rude." "You're a fucking idiot." "Yes, I've been told."

"I'm DONE! I'm done acting happy, I'm done pretending to be okay, I'm DONE playing this game. I am so. Fucking. DONE. With shits like you! Don't ever come near me again."

"The only reason I kept fighting was because of the people I cared about! And you took them all away from me! I'm not done fighting yet! I'm not done fucking fighting until your body is rotting in the fucking ground!"

"Giving a fuck what other people think about you is like giving them control of your life."

"Please don't pretend to give a fuck about me. I know better now."

"They said I can't." "Well, fuck 'em." "What?" "You're not weak. It's your life. Fuck 'em. Do what you want."

"I trust you about as far as I can throw you. Which is to say I don't. I can't. I'm weak as all fuck."

"I'm as cute as a cucumber. Wait, fuck, that's a kiwi."

Shit

"When you're a sarcastic piece of shit but people keep falling in love with you anyway."

"My sister is a huge piece of shit." "Awe, that's not nice. What'd the shit ever do to you?"

"Shit aside, this isn't the worst plan put into motion."

"Literally no one cares about that shit."

"I'm not a bitch, I'm an asshole. Guys still want to screw me even if all I spew is shit."

"Congratulations! You're in deep shit."

"You've shown great aptitude for bullshitting."

"Shit... I don't... I don't know why I'm crying... Just please don't leave me alone..." "Never."

"I'm one of those people that people regularly tell me not to do stupid shit and I do it anyway."

"I've lived my life watching through windows. I'm ready to go break shit now."

"I promise, I'm okay."

"You expect me to believe that bullshit!?"

"I'm just getting a little tired of having to deal with this shit!"

"Hey, I'm kinda feeling like shit tonight. You think you could... come cuddle me?"

"I don't see myself as someone who breaks promises, spills secrets, or tells lies. I'm not a great person like that statement would suggest. I just don't talk to people enough, and when I do, I don't give enough of a shit to care."

Asshole

"'Cause sometimes, people are just assholes no one else cares about."

"It was an accident! I didn't mean to-" "Now why don't I believe you?" "Because I'm an arrogant prick and an asshole." "At least you're aware of your short comings."

"No, I'm not getting high off lemonade. What are you drinking, bitch?"

"If you're not sucking cock for the fun of it, I don't know what you're doing with your life."

"Ten out of ten. Would bang again." "Please stop." "Love you, babe."

Forget

"I haven't quite forgiven you for that." "No, I don't expect you did."

"The most unforgettable stories are also the most unbelievable, don't you know?"

"I don't need you to hold me like it's okay to forget. I need you to hold me like it's okay to remember, to hold on, and then to let go."

"Sometimes people forget... I'm not normal."

"The world is a wonderful, beautiful, amazing place. That's why it doesn't matter if in thirty years, no one remembers us."

"I want you to remember what it felt like to fight against me."

"Do you remember what it was like when we were young and alright?"

"Do you remember what I promised? That we'd always be together. I don't break promises. Not to anyone, but never to you. As long as you'll have me, I'll be right here. So please, let me stay."

"I want you to remember this feeling; it will follow you all your life."

"Why don't you remember ANYTHING I said!?"

Pain

"Don't you ever wish we could ever be something different? Like, I don't know. Something less hellish?" "I don't know. Sometimes I welcome the pain."

"I just get so restless, and I can't stop moving, and when I have to sit down and focus... it's really hard because I just want to be up. It's genuinely painful when it strikes in the middle of class or something."

"Pain is what made me human."

"You don't understand all the pain we went through to get where we are now."

"I will break, I will burn, but I will not let you hurt me."

"Listen to me and this broken heart of mine."

"It's not your fault you've been hurt before."

"I don't enjoy hurting people." "Could'a fooled me."

"Does it hurt?" "Always."

“It’s not me you have to worry about killing you if you hurt our daughter, it’s my wife.” “Oh, honey, you know me so well.”

"I knew from the beginning I'd never be able to hurt you."

"I shouldn't care. Caring only hurts."

"Sometimes when people get hurt, they shut themselves away. They push away people and the things that hurt them. But I think it's more interesting when they fight back. Revenge is a bitter tale, but it's a more interesting story told."

"I don't want to fall in love. Falling means you get hurt. I want to grow. I want to grow to love someone, see them at their smallest and grow into their mightiest. I want to grow to love, because when something grows, it never stops growing."

"My head feels heavy and my heart just hurts."

"Don't stress the small stuff. It only makes your brain hurt."

"In the end, we were made of blood that could be spilt and bones that could be broken."

"'Broken,' he'd promised. And 'broken' he'd become."

Death

"I have been scared of many things. Surprisingly, my death has never been one of them."

"They're both very strong willed, bull headed, "death to all those who defy me" kind of people."

"Even the bravest close their eyes when facing Death."

"Death seems like the best option right now." "No. No, it does not."

"Touch my phone and you accept Death as your new best friend."

"You tend to just find death everywhere you go. Isn't that a problem?"

"Death is not a good look on you, honey."

"I've got about a hundred years worth of death on my hands and isn't that great?"

"Death comes to all those who wait for it."

"Murder, death, and mayhem are my favorite things to write about."

"You are an angel of death by association. This is your duty."

"I hope you've got some kind of special armor under that dress, 'cause with the way you're surrounded, if you don't, you're gonna die."

"We're gonna die." "That's the plan."

"How many times must she die before you're satisfied?!"

"This time, I'm not letting you die for me."

"Someone's gonna die tonight, but it ain't gonna be me."

"Fine. I'll let you die. I'll just have to bring you back to life."

"But why'd you have to die?"

"If I die, it's officially Your Fault."

"Welp. time to die again,"

"No! No! You don't get to die! You don't get to die and leave me alone!"

"Don't ask me that! Don't do that!" "Why?" "Because everyone knows that when you talk about the future right before a big battle, you're gonna die!"

"When it comes down to it, I want you to make sure I die."

"How did you save them?" "Easy- I died."

"I would live and die for you, but I'd never kill."

"We are not gods. But I shall die like one anyway."

"There was a time when I swear I was just waiting to die."

"I'd rather destroy myself than let her die for me."

"The truth is- I'm just tired of watching you die."

"I've died so many times, and I'm still falling for you."

"I am so done with children." "You have nine." "And I would die for each and every one of them."

"It's a miracle in itself that you haven't died yet."

"The explosion killed thousands. How are you alive?"

"You bother me." "I can't imagine why." "Surely it has nothing to do with the fact you've killed hundreds of people including my family. That couldn't possibly be it."

"I trust you, but the question is, do you trust me?" "I trust you not to get yourself killed." "I think you might be asking a little too much."

"How are you going to tell your sister you killed her best friend?" "I'm not." "That's no way to start a relationship."

"You are legit trying to kill me." "Oh darling, if I really wanted to kill you, I wouldn't be trying. You'd be dead already."

"I'm pretty sure I killed someone. But then again, I could be wrong."

"I'm going to kill someone." "Oh dear god, please be me."

"Ohhhhh, my sister's gonna kill me for this one."

"One time my sister tried to tell me I wasn't right. Valid, I wasn't. But I still tried to kill her anyway."

"Do what you will. But don't come crying to me if it kills you."

"Oh god, just kill me now." "As you wish."

"The next time somebody tries to kill, me, I'm gonna scream." "I should hope so?"

"This child threatened to kill me." "She threatened to burn the entire city to the ground. I don't see what your point is."

"We are all dead and it’s your fault!"

"Oh look. The sun is shining, nobody is dead- today's gonna be a good day."

"I swore I wouldn't do it again. But here I am. Wishing all of them dead."

"I guess being dead wasn't good enough for you. You wanted to erase me from history too."

"Who even knows if we'll be alive tomorrow?"

"What story did they tell you?" "That'd I'd never make it out alive."

"And if I refuse?" "Well, *chuckle* don't suppose you'll get out of this alive."

"You just need to survive."

"The world is a cruel, unfair place. But it's the one we live in, so we gotta do what we can to survive."

"You've done your best to destroy me, but I survived all along."

"I survive because there is nothing else I could do."

"The world didn't want me. But I survived anyway."

"I think I'm more surprised that you're telling me this than the fact that you survived it."

"We exist in this time and place. This isn't the end."

"You hide it in the corners of your mind like it doesn't exist."

"Once upon a time, there was a girl. A regular, ordinary type of girl. The kind of girl... that no longer exists."

"In any other world, we would not exist."

"Hell exists in ways you don't expect it to."

"I exist in your eyes, but not in your life."

"You weren't supposed to exist."

"I suppose that magic exists. In some way or another."

"Time is inconsequential. Unreal. It doesn't exist. All that exists is the here and now."

"The world only exists the way we want it to."

"The world need not know you exist. More importantly, the world need not know you exist as you do."

"Who's dying this time?"

"I've existed long enough to know this is a very bad idea."

"We only sort of exis

"There's something beautiful in the way you look at the world like nothing else exists."

"We exist to be tempered into impossible weapons."

"I am aware of worlds and things that should not exist."

"The difference you have to learn about the past and future is that the future gives us a reason to keep living... the past only exists to hold us back."

"You are the bane of my existence." "I'm the bane of existence in general."

"How many times have I thought about dying? Too many."

My entire life you've made me cry. All you're doing now is making me cry again.

"My room's a mess. Kinda like my life. But nobody's complaining about that."

"My life was wonderful. But it was better without you in it."

When life gives ya lemons, we find someone who has vodka and makes martinis.

"She's living her life in monochrome."

"There are some things in life that just get you down. And then there's her."

"I've been wrong all my life. This is just another instance, isn't it?

"Home is not a place. It's a feeling. Feeling of contentment, life, respect, safety. That is home."

"I live off of two things: spite and validation. I live to spite those who say I can't, but I need validation from those who say I can."

"Please don't live for tomorrow. Live for today."

"My favorite kind of people are the ones who live for themselves, and not for anyone else."

I knew we'd live forever.

"There's not enough time on Earth to see everything. We could go back a billion years and live every moment up to now, and even then we wouldn't see everything." "Nah. But with you, I'd like to try. I feel like I could do anything with you by my side."

[loving-all-for-loki]

Voiceless Love Chapter 6: Downfall

Loki x reader, Bucky x reader

Word Count: 3452

Warnings: angst, lots and lots of angst, some Loki fluff, swearing

A/N: I’m sorry. I cried while writing this and had to take a break to gather myself. It’s a rough one

Tag List: @caffeineoverloadandstudying @zizzlekwum @buckylokisimp @daddysfavoritesexkitten @lokiyoulittle @magicalpieex

You spend three days in bed with Loki resting after the Bucky incident. Even though you’ve been able to get up, Loki refuses to let you do anything and forces you to lay all day with him serving you hand and foot. The team watches in disbelief as Loki makes you lunch, gets you your clothes, and even slipped your fingernails once. They find excuses to walk past Loki’s room to spy on you two, but they always catch Loki reading to you or you asleep.

“You can’t be really mad at him. He’s taking care of her,” Natasha states. “Yes, that may be the case, but what are his intentions? She’s not a super soldier or a government trained assassin. She can’t defend herself if Reindeer Games decides to pull any tricks,” Tony pipes in.

“Tony’s right,” Bucky says, “She’s not a superhero in the sense we are.”

“You boys are so paranoid. Obviously, they got closer while we were gone. Is that such a bad thing? Loki finding someone who calms him and makes him kinder?”

“Yes.”

Nat rolls her eyes at Tony and Bucky, sitting down on the lounge seats. 

“What are we discussing? I heard my brother's name.”

Thor enters the room which gains everyone’s attention. Steve and Sam put down their sandwiches and tune into the conversation.

“We’re discussing Loki’s intentions with Y/N.” Nat informs.

“Oh, it is very sweet isn’t it?”

“Not to Tony.”

“It’s like he’s grooming her!”

Everyone groans in disgust. 

“Tony, I think you fail to realize how hard it is for Loki to connect to people, especially Midgardians yourself.”

“I don’t. I know he’s an arrogant prick whose head is shoved up his ass.”

“Yes, he thinks highly of himself, but he’s capable of feelings beyond pride and rage.”

“Most people aren’t like you Tony,” Steve jokes, which earns him a hard look from the billionaire.

“But with Y/N? Someone who’s so defenseless and vulnerable?” Bucky adds in.

-

Loki comes in with a bowl of mac n’ cheese, setting it before you.

“I had to get Thor to help me. I’m very good with Midgard technology. I’m not even sure what a microwave really is.”

You chuckle inside at Loki’s innocence and start eating the macaroni before he joins you on the bed, his arm resting over your shoulders. You lean your head against his as the two of you watch some history documentary Loki was intrigues by. Since you’ve been in bed for three days, you’ve only been watching shows and movies you like so you gave Loki a chance. He felt bad then complained about poor Midgard entertainment, but as soon as you showed him the history channel, he changed his mind.

You take your pen beside you and grab Loki’s hand that’s gently rubbing your back. On the side of his index, you write thank you for everything.

“Oh course, little one. You need to be well rested.”

Do you think I could get my own water?

Loki looks beside him to see your glass empty and sighs.

“I suppose you can.”

You smile up at him before getting out of bed. It’s weird to feel the cold floors on your feet after spending so much time under thick warm blankets. You shuffle your way over to the other side of the bed and take the glass. Loki keeps an eye on you as you make your way around, ready to pounce at grab you if you fall over and pass out. You give him a smile and pat on the shoulder before making your way to the door.

Taking your time, you walk down the hallway and hear your name come up in conversation. You stop right before the entrance to the living room, your hands shaking as you grip the glass cup tightly.

“But with Y/N? Someone who’s so defenseless and vulnerable?”

“I know it seems what you would say sketchy, but Loki’s intentions are honorable.”

“And Buck, you’ve seen the way she is with you. She holds onto your metal arm. She’s not afraid of most things other people are,” Steve adds.

Listening to them discuss you like they know you is irritating. Bucky goes on to talk about how weak and fragile you are and the others don’t disagree. They add comments about Loki that infuriate you. ‘He’s dangerous’. ‘He’s using her’. ‘He’s tricking her’. It didn’t feel like manipulation when he made you tea last night. It didn’t feel like manipulation when he explained book plots you didn’t understand. Why did they see him for someone he isn’t? Why do they still hold New York against him as if it was completely him?

You get pulled out of your thoughts when you hear Bucky speak again.

“I don’t like that he went after someone so innocent and defenseless like her.”

You step into their sight as soon as the words leave Bucky’s mouth. Everyone turns to stare at you, realizing you heard them talking about you. Bucky’s eyes go wide at the hurt expression written across your face, realizing he had messed up.

“How much did you hear?” Steve asks.

You slowly and nervously shake your head in disgust. Bucky takes a step forward to come near you but you stumble over your feet as you back up, falling and landing on your wrists. Tears start forming in your eyes as you look back up at the team, specifically Bucky who looks likes he just ran over someone’s dog.

“Y/N, you know I didn’t mean-”

You shake your head and run back down the hallway, ignoring Bucky’s pleads and the Avengers trying to diffuse the situation. Your vision was so clouded by the tears that you miss Loki coming up behind you and run straight into him.

“Woah, woah,” he gasps, grabbing your forearm as you stumble, “what’s-”. He notices the tears slowly falling down your face. “What did they do?”

You shake your head and push past him, retreating into yout room and under your blankets. Loki storms straight to the Avengers instead of with you.

“Tell me what in the nine realms you did to make her cry?”

The team is stunned as Loki raises his voice. There’s fury raging in his eyes, popping his veins out in anger. 

“She overheard something. It’s fine.” Sam says.

“Then tell me why she looks like someone hit her dog?”

Bucky puffs up his chest and walks straight up to Loki in a threatening manner, but Loki doesn’t react even an inch.

“Why do you care, huh? Why are you so attached to her? I thought you hated humans! That’s why you attacked New York right? You wanted to take control of us ‘weak humans’, but you failed, so what gives you the right to take her?”

“Are you implying she is weak?”

Bucky stays silent and holds his stoic look. 

“You are. That’s what you were saying, wasn’t it? She heard you call her weak.”

Loki scoffs at the soldier and looks to the other avengers for a sign of confirmation. They don’t meet his eyes with trigger alarms in his brain.

“You are all despicable. You know nothing about her. She is not as vulnerable as you think she is.”

“That’s not the point, Reindeer Games,” Tony cuts in, “The point is what are your intentions with her? Why do you want her so bad?”

“What? You think I’m manipulating or messing with her in some way. Is it impossible to imagine me liking someone’s presence?”

“Honestly, yes. We do. We’ve seen you do it in New York. Why can’t you do it now?”

There’s a deafening silence looming over the room. Loki’s eyes go cold as he clenches his fist, trying to not knock Tony out on the spot. Bucky still stands in his face, searching for some kind of vulnerable moment, but all he sees is fury in Loki’s face. He realizes they may be wrong in this situation. No one gets angry like this over nothing. They have never seen him like this before, so much so that even Thor takes a step away from his seething brother. Like nothing happened, Loki swivels and rushes away down the hall, but passes his room and goes straight to yours to find you balling underneath your sheets.

His anger does not go away, but only lessens as he removes the barrier between you two. He sees you curled into yourself, crying as if you had to get rid of every ounce of water in your body. No human has ever seemed so in need comfort to him before than now. Picking you up, he adjusts in bed with you on his lap, gripping your hands tight to his neck, burying your face in his chest. Loki pats your head and shushes you, trying to calm you down while his own burdens flash through his mind.

“I am absolutely outraged by those people,” he says, “how dare they speak like that about you. Do not listen, little one. You are stronger than you know and they are not aware. They do not know you like I know you.”

You continue to sob into him but the tears slow down. Heavy gasping turns into staggered breathing as your heart races less.

“I cannot fathom their incompetence. Pathetic Midgardians. I don’t think they’ll ever forgive me for my advances.”

“I forgive you.”

Loki snaps his head to look down at you, who is staring up at him, face flushed with tears. You had spoken.

Your voice. It’s unlike anything he’s ever heard and he only heard three words. Three so very important words he never thought he’d hear anyone say and you said it with such meaning. Such kindness and heart. It sounded like the heavens themselves opened up and relinquished its glory to him. He felt his body get a rush of warmth flowing through him, one that reminded him of being home with Frigga.

“Thank you,” he says, “I fear you may be the only one.”

He’s scared to say anything about you speaking and freak you out. If he has to go another lifetime without hearing your voice again, he’d never forgive himself.

“I’m tired,” you say sheepishly.

“Then go to bed, darling. I’ll still be here when you wake.”

-

You wake the next day to the sounds of crashing. Manly voices you have never heard before boom. Springing awake, you forget about Loki falling asleep next to you and accidentally elbow him in the face. “What the-”

“Loki, I’m sorry! I forgot-”

“It’s okay, little one. Accidents happen,” he groans.

The two of you get up off the bed for you to change. With a flick of the neck, Loki uses his magic to change into a three piece suit as he usually wears. You come out with a deep green overalls that makes him smile.

“I like it when you wear my colors.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Hearing your voice in the morning reminds him why he’s around. You’re so perfect in so many ways and that angelic noise only proves that more and more. The sounds of a male booming voice brings him out of his paradise. Taking your hand, the two of you enter the main room where the other Avengers are gathered with a man you’ve never seen before talking to Thor.

“Heimdall,” Loki announces, “what are you doing here?”

The man turns to see Loki standing next to you and doesn’t miss the interlocking of your hands. He turns to Thor who gives a weak smile and whispers something for only him to hear before looking back to you and the god.

“I am here to take you back to Asgard.”

“Father has requested you to come home and get punished for your actions on New York since you have been spending time here. He wants to take proper precautions on behalf of Asgard,” Thor adds.

“That’s ridiculous. He can’t beg for me now.”

“He can, brother, as I am afraid.”

You take Loki’s collar and bring his ear closer to you.

“Does that mean I won’t get to see you?”

“Don’t worry, darling. I won’t let them take me.”

Steve looks between Bucky and Tony who are staring wide eyed at your interaction with the god. Even Clint and Nat stare in awe as you have a private conversation, clearly speaking to Loki.

“What is happening?” Heimdall asks.

“She’s never spoken before,” Thor whispers.

“And she’s speaking to Loki? Why him?”

“I’ve said ‘I’m afraid’ many times and I’m going to say it again. I’m afraid they’ve bonded greatly. This will be an issue if All-Father intends to keep Loki in prison on Asgard.”

“Wonderful.”

Loki walks away from you and takes Thor’s arm, pulling him away to the side.

“Do you really expect me to fall for this?”

“For what?”

“Father wants me home. I know all he wants is to throw me in some cage for eternity. I’m not going no matter how much you plead or even if Father wants to come down here himself and drag me through the Bifrost.””

“There’s nothing I can do. Heimdall had strict orders.”

You walk over to Bucky who puts a protective arm around you, trying to ignore the pain of being second to comfort. He kisses the top of your forehead which you smile for. A glimmer of hope rests in Bucky’s heart that you still have feelings for him despite spending all your time with Loki. You hold to him tight, hugging him around his waist, in anxiousness. You can’t imagine if Loki is gone, the one person you trust the most, you haven't hurt before.

“I can’t leave Y/N,” Loki whispers, “I don’t think you understand that.”

“Brother, I understand your connection to her, but I-”

“Don’t say you have no choice. You can go back to Father and tell him that I’m not coming.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“There’s no point in arguing about this, Loki. You have to go home.”

“What will happen to her, then? She’ll be stuck here with people who treat her like a child.”

“She’ll be fine. She’s a big girl.”

“Not to them. To them she’s weak and useless. She’ll never be used for her powers properly. She’ll never be treated as an equal.”

“I’ll make sure that she does.”

“Brother, I’m the god of lies. I can see straight through you. You’re not going to do anything but sit by and watch them.”

“I’ll watch out for her.”

Loki’s chest rises as he takes in a deep breath, knowing his brother won’t do anything. He contemplates his options: either go with Heimdall or stay here and face worse punishment when he sees his Father one day.

“How long will I be gone for?”

“My hope is a month or two, but most likely two or three years.”

“I can’t leave her that long.”

“Then I will fight for your freedom or escape every day.”

Loki takes a look at you hugging Bucky. The exact image in front of his is what he fear most: losing you to the soldier who looks at you the same way he does. He knows he has no choice if he wants to face a lesser punishment.

“Fine. Give me a moment to say goodbye.”

“Of course.”

Loki walks to you who lets go of Bucky and hugs him. He wraps an arm around your waist and walks with you over to the entrance of the hall where no one can hear you.

“I have to go, darling.”

“Please, don’t.”

The team watches as you open your mouth and speak to Loki, proving to them there was a situation at hand with your attachment to Loki.

“Oh no,” Tony mumbles.

“We’re in trouble,” Nat agreed.

Bucky tries to drown out the anger and instead, a wave of depression over comes him. He knows he messed up with you, but seeing how quick you moved to the god makes him sad, knowing he could have had that with you had he not gotten hurt or even gone on that mission.

“I have no choice, Y/N, but I promise whatever happens, I will come back.”

“What do you mean ‘whatever happens’?” 

“There is a good chance I’m being locked away for some time. Thor said that if that is the case, he will help me get out and return to you.”

“You promise you’ll come back?”

“There is not a soul in the nine realms that can stop me from coming to you, because you are my home and you can’t rip my heart away from you.”

Silver tongue. You knew they called him that for a reason.

“I promise, my darling.” 

“I’m scared if you don’t come back.”

“I know. I am too. I fear that I’ll never forget you and spend the rest of my days in a cell longing for your touch.”

“Please, don't’ say that.”

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, “I take it back. I’ll see you in good time.”

Loki gives you a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You start crying on his shoulder, leaving dark spots on his suit. Before walking to Thor, Loki lifts your chin up with his hand, connecting his lips to yours. 

You taste like strawberries and wine. Loki thinks to himself that he could get drunk on your lips all the time, always thirsting for you. You’re so soft, like floating on a cloud. He thought your voice was the closest thing to nirvana, but he was wrong. He is just the same. He tastes like whiskey and is sensual with his touch. You can feel the butterflies in your stomach flying around, fluttering their wings and bumping into the insides of you. A chill runs down your spine as the two of you hold each other. You never want to stop kissing him.

Thor coughs under his breath, distracting you and Loki, breaking your kiss. Loki turns to his brother with sadness in his eyes that every person sees. The Avengers look at one another, seeing how painful this is for him, but they don’t dare to look at you. Tears roll down your face, flushing you over. They’ve never seen anyone look so desperate for help. It breaks them, but they don’t dare go against Odin’s word.

Loki walks over to Heimdall who places a hand on his shoulder. He turns back to face you across the room.

“Goodbye, my love.”

In a flash, the two are gone, leaving you a blubbering mess in front of the heroes. Bucky takes a step forward to console you, but you fall backwards shaking your head.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but Loki needs to take responsibility. He’s a criminal.”

“No!” You scream.

Everyone is taken back by the anger and desperation in your voice. Nat and Sam share a look, in awe of your vocal power. Bucky goes wide eyed, staring at you whose eyebrows are furrowed and mouth wide open. You’re choking on your own breath as you hyperventilate. No one dares to say anything as they urge you to break the silence, not wanting to miss a single thing you say.

“You don’t get to say shit!” You yell. “You don’t know him! You don’t get to say ‘he’s a criminal’! He’s a good man and you all are disappointing children! You’re children! Only mature people don’t try to hurt those who hurt them! They understand and listen and make them better! You’re only out to destroy! You’re not heroes fighting for vengeance! You’re villains wanting revenge! You disgust me! The way you treat him and me, so don’t say anything about Loki! People say things happen for a reason, so when I punch you in the face for ever saying anything bad about him ever again, remember I had a reason!”

You turn to walk away from the paralyzed group. They try to take in everything you said, shocked by your first words to them being rage over Loki. There’s no words they have left in them as you’ve taken all of them, except for Bucky. He stand there, heart shattering in a million pieces from watching you pour your heart out for a man who did his people wrong, for a man who is a war dictator. 

“Why do you care so much about him?” He screams at you.

You stop in your tracks, facing them with your face full of pain and sorrow.

“Because I love him.

[grayintogreen]

So I just finished watching Evangelion 3.33+1.0, which really solidified my belief that Matt based Cognouza/The Somnovem on the Human Instrumentality Project, because holy crap when you get down to brass tacks the goals are ultimately similar- the sole difference is that rather than all souls reduced to primordial goop being goopy in harmony, there is one (or nine) dominant souls who control the unification.

(Which ultimately makes the difference- if everyone is soup then you’re soup. If you’re soup and one person has full control over the soup and you have just enough consciousness to be useful in the hivemind… you’re gonna have a bad time,)

The end result is still the same though, everything is one collective. No boundaries, no discrimination, no judgement- all things that the Somnovem were getting left and right probably because they’re weird. More importantly, however, you can see why it would appeal to Lucien (on top of just being chosen which honestly part of me thinks the Somnovem could have even crazier goals and he’d base a cult around it if they told him he was special enough), who is someone that has definitely suffered long and hard at the hands of the world and would probably feel very strongly about being able to remove that kind of pain from the world.

It sounds altruistic! But it’s not. It’s selfish and extremely self-centered and maybe everyone would rather have trauma and depression than be flesh kudzu growing across Exandria being used to fuel a powerful being’s imagination station ego trip. Lucien doesn’t care! And that’s the thing. Is he chaotic evil? I think his GOALS are. I think what he’d DO to achieve them can be. But I don’t think he believes that either of those things are true (alignment is fucking weird, but I think statistically he’s either Chaotic Evil or Neutral Evil, trending more towards chaotic because he’s a lunatic, but just because you are that doesn’t mean you have to believe you are). He gives off the personality of a Not Nice Person, but up until he starts actively murdering people, acting like a paranoid cult leader, and abandoning his friends, he’s honestly about as much of a dick as some of the worst of the Nein. He’s just a guy! An arrogant college kid who doesn’t want anyone to know he came from the sticks and never went to Harvard. Who has superpowers.

Which is interesting when you get down to it, because it’s crazy to think that those goals could ever come from a good place, but they can! The whole point of Evangelion is the main character choosing to accept or reject Instrumentality based on how his personal trauma has shaken out. No, Lucien is not a good person- far from it, but I’m pretty sure his reasoning for everything came out of the same reasons why the Somnovem want to see the pattern spread and everyone united under them (maybe hate and disgust more than others, but I refuse to believe that Lucien has never been able to love or that love isn’t a driving force- it’s just selfish, unhealthy, extremely conditional love). It’s a clusterfuck of emotions that amount to one thing- people would be better if there were no clear social, racial, or class differences and were simply allowed to think and exist freely without barriers (while being controlled by the hivemind control brains whoops).

So basically continuing my theory that Lucien is a broken crown chosen one who got handed the keys to deciding the fate of the world and went idk man maybe there would be less misery and everyone would respect me if everyone was assimilated and I had full control. (Which Lucien has some serious control issues anyway. Hi, I’m Chris. I analyze Lucien A LOT.)

Anyway, tl;dr Matt is a nerd and this is definitely Evangelion levels of deep shit, and I love it. The Human Instrumentality Project is such a cool concept.

[welllpthisishappening]

Welllp These Are Books: the January 2021 Edition

Tumblr’s gif search leaves a lot to be desired, so there’s no actual gif of her slamming the book shut, which is—y’know, disappointing. Still, the continued ability of the public library system to send books to my Kindle ensures that I continue to read every romantic comedy and fantasy story I can find. Of which I have plenty of thoughts and opinions. But, like, what’s the point of having thoughts and opinions if you’re not putting them on the internet? There isn’t one, obviously. Books and links and feelings and more ridiculous headlines all under the cut. 

BEST BOOK AWARD WINNER OF A VERY WEIRD JANUARY THAT HELPED DISTRACT FROM A VERY WEIRD JANUARY

The Wrath & the Dawn by Renee Ahdieh Every dawn brings horror to a different family in a land ruled by a killer. Khalid, the eighteen-year-old Caliph of Khorasan, takes a new bride each night only to have her executed at sunrise. So it is a suspicious surprise when sixteen-year-old Shahrzad volunteers to marry Khalid. But she does so with a clever plan to stay alive and exact revenge on the Caliph for the murder of her best friend and countless other girls. Shazi’s wit and will, indeed, get her through to the dawn that no others have seen, but with a catch . . . she’s falling in love with the very boy who killed her dearest friend. She discovers that the murderous boy-king is not all that he seems and neither are the deaths of so many girls. Shazi is determined to uncover the reason for the murders and to break the cycle once and for all.

This was so good?!?! I finished the first book and them immediately started the sequel, like no break whatsoever?!! I wish they weren’t teenagers?!! But seriously I wish they hadn’t been teenagers. Like, I get it. It’s YA. That probably sells better, something about markets that I don’t understand. I don’t care. It was weird that they were teenagers. Also, some of the plot points just kind of...happened? And I’m not entirely sure they were ever resolved. (Although there are a bunch of short stories, so. Maybe I just haven’t gotten there yet.) Despite that, the writing was gorgeous, I remain as prone to swooning over sad boys patent pending as I was when I was sixteen and Shahrzad was a fantastic heroine. Nine out of ten (would have been ten if they weren’t teenagers) and have already put holds on other books Ahdieh has written. 

OBLIGATORY RAGE-INDUCING ROM-COM

Head Over Heads by  Hannah Orenstein The past seven years have been hard on Avery Abrams: After training her entire life to make the Olympic gymnastics team, a disastrous performance ended her athletic career for good. Her best friend and teammate, Jasmine, went on to become an Olympic champion, then committed the ultimate betrayal by marrying their emotionally abusive coach, Dimitri. Now, reeling from a breakup with her football star boyfriend, Avery returns to her Massachusetts hometown, where new coach Ryan asks her to help him train a promising young gymnast with Olympic aspirations. Despite her misgivings and worries about the memories it will evoke, Avery agrees. Back in the gym, she's surprised to find sparks flying with Ryan. But when a shocking scandal in the gymnastics world breaks, it has shattering effects not only for the sport but also for Avery and her old friend Jasmine.

I stopped reading it. Honestly. I got, like, 46% of the way through, kept complaining to Justin about how goddamn annoying Avery was and how no one had any personality and I wanted them all to fall off the beam and he was like—stop reading it, then? And I was like—I can do that? And then I did! Also, I understand it needed conflict, but the “shocking scandal” in the description is a sexual assault that was not only NOT my cup of tea, but felt like a massive attempt to be topical by using what happened at Michigan State without actually saying it was about Michigan state. 

PEOPLE WHO DON��T KNOW SPORTS WRITE SPORTS AND DO IT OK

Evvie Drake Starts Over by Linda Holmes In a sleepy seaside town in Maine, recently widowed Eveleth “Evvie” Drake rarely leaves her large, painfully empty house nearly a year after her husband’s death in a car crash. Everyone in town, even her best friend, Andy, thinks grief keeps her locked inside, and Evvie doesn’t correct them. Meanwhile, in New York City, Dean Tenney, former Major League pitcher and Andy’s childhood best friend, is wrestling with what miserable athletes living out their worst nightmares call the “yips”: he can’t throw straight anymore, and, even worse, he can’t figure out why. As the media storm heats up, an invitation from Andy to stay in Maine seems like the perfect chance to hit the reset button on Dean’s future. When he moves into an apartment at the back of Evvie’s house, the two make a deal: Dean won’t ask about Evvie’s late husband, and Evvie won’t ask about Dean’s baseball career. Rules, though, have a funny way of being broken—and what starts as an unexpected friendship soon turns into something more. To move forward, Evvie and Dean will have to reckon with their pasts—the friendships they’ve damaged, the secrets they’ve kept—but in life, as in baseball, there’s always a chance—up until the last out.

I am admittedly a sports snob. Writing about sports is my thing and I’m super particular about reading about it. But this sounded good and for the most part it was good. Emotional, too. Like, “jeepers, that was intense” kind of emotional. But also some of the things Dean talked about were just...not how sports work and that drives me nuts. Also another story that was, as mentioned, super emotional only to get tied up in this nice little bow. Which, cool, but also...not? Just felt rushed at the end. 

IN WHICH SHIPPING IS QUESTIONED AND I JUST LIKE BEN BARNES

Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo Soldier. Summoner. Saint. Orphaned and expendable, Alina Starkov is a soldier who knows she may not survive her first trek across the Shadow Fold—a swath of unnatural darkness crawling with monsters. But when her regiment is attacked, Alina unleashes dormant magic not even she knew she possessed. Now Alina will enter a lavish world of royalty and intrigue as she trains with the Grisha, her country's magical military elite—and falls under the spell of their notorious leader, the Darkling. He believes Alina can summon a force capable of destroying the Shadow Fold and reuniting their war-ravaged country, but only if she can master her untamed gift.As the threat to the kingdom mounts and Alina unlocks the secrets of her past, she will make a dangerous discovery that could threaten all she loves and the very future of a nation. Welcome to Ravka . . . a world of science and superstition where nothing is what it seems.

I wanted to like this so much. So, so much. And sometimes I did. Sometimes I did not. At all. World building is my weakness and this has got it in spades, but the characters are kind of—boring? I couldn’t really bring myself to care about Alina and I wanted to kick Mal in the shins sometimes. The only interesting one was The Darkling who’s like the embodiment of all evil and I am not here to ship-shame anyone, but it’s kinda weird to ship him and Alina. I pictured Ben Barnes the entire time. I’m still excited for the show. I’ll read the sequel at some point, probably. 

BEING A JERK IS NOT ROMANCE, YOU’RE JUST A JERK

Would Like to Meet by Rachel Winters It's Evie Summers's job to find out. Because if she can't convince her film agency's biggest client, Ezra Chester, to write the romantic-comedy screenplay he owes producers, her career will be over. The catch? Arrogant Ezra thinks rom-coms are unrealistic—and he'll only put pen to paper if Evie proves to him that it's possible to meet a man in real life the way it happens on the big screen. Cynical Evie might not believe in happily ever after, but she'll do what it takes to save the job that's been her lifeline . . . even if it means reenacting iconic rom-com scenes in public. Spilling orange juice on a cute stranger? No problem. Leaving her number in books all over London to see who calls? Done. With a little help from her well-meaning friends and the adorable father-daughter duo who keep witnessing her humiliations, Evie is determined to show Ezra she can meet a man the way Sally met Harry. But can a workaholic who's given up on love find a meet-cute of her very own?

I love cliches. Love ‘em. Want to read about ‘em, want to write about ‘em. Here for happily ever after. Much less here for the overused and antiquated cliche of dude doesn’t believe in love like girl does, dude ridicules girl’s belief, dude was secretly in love with her the whole time. It’s super dumb. And we should stop writing it. Also really done with rom com girl can’t figure out her life! she’s overworked! she doesn’t have time for her friends! Super duper dumb. I don’t know guys, this book happened. 

FAST-PACED ROMANCE ISN’T AS WEIRD WHEN IT’S WELL WRITTEN AND THERE’S A MOOSE INVOLVED

The Tourist Attraction by Sarah Morgenthaler He had a strict "no tourists" policy...until she broke all of his rules. When Graham Barnett named his diner The Tourist Trap, he meant it as a joke. Now he's stuck slinging reindeer dogs to an endless parade of resort visitors who couldn't interest him less. Not even the sweet, enthusiastic tourist in the corner who blushes every time he looks her way...

Two weeks in Alaska isn't just the top item on Zoey Caldwell's bucket list. It's the whole bucket. One look at the mountain town of Moose Springs and she's smitten. But when an act of kindness brings Zoey into Graham's world, she may just find there's more to the grumpy local than meets the eye...and more to love in Moose Springs than just the Alaskan wilderness.

This story of Alaska marries together all the things you didn't realize you needed: a whirlwind vacation, a friendly moose, a grumpy diner owner, a quirky tourist, plenty of restaurant humor, and a happy ending that'll take you away from it all.

I’m not one for slow burn, but I also have a hard time believing romances that happen in, like, a blink. Not the case here! It was so goddamn cute! There was a moose! Graham kept calling Zoey darlin’ and it made my heart try to explode in my chest! Stars Hollow-levels of small town with lots of side characters and a good plot and a restaurant that everyone always went to! You guys know I’m trash for everyone always going to hang out in the same restaurant! I’m reading the sequel now, so that’s how much I enjoyed it. 

AMAZON BOOKS THAT CONTINUE TO BE WAY BETTER THAN THEY SHOULD BE

Elodie of the Sea by Shari L. Tapscott (part of the Eldentimber Series) Eight years have passed since the marriage tournament that decided the fate of Princess Pippa of Lauramore and strengthened alliances between the kingdoms of Elden. The competitors have moved on with their lives. Some have found adventure; some have found love. Prince Bran of Triblue, however, has put his life on hold, preparing for his father's crown. Two days before Bran's winter coronation, just when the prince cannot afford distractions, a girl washes onto the Triblue shore. She has no memory of her past life, no clue who she is or where she belongs—nothing but a ring on her finger and a peculiar marking on her cheek. And the newly crowned king has more than a mysterious girl to worry about. The sea has become unpredictable. Storms claim ships in the dead of night, and sailors return with horrifying stories of monsters from the deep. It soon becomes clear the girl and the bizarre events are connected. The girl came from the sea... and the sea wants her back. But Bran isn't willing to give her or his kingdom up without a fight, even if it means he must request help from every corner of Elden.

Listen, sometimes you have to read about a mermaid who lost her memory and the soon-to-be-king who’s, like, immediately in love with her. I mentioned Tapscott’s books in the 2020 post and the sentiment remains the same. You ever read a book that reads like fic? Lots of banter, some romance, steady pacing. That’s what her books are like. There are five in the Eldentimber series, all about a different princess in a different kingdom, but they all connect so characters pop up again and again and then they kiss. It’s real good. 

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from the movie “Dogma”

“I’m as anatomically impaired as a Ken doll.”

“May I continue uninterrupted?”

“Mention something from a Charlton Heston movie and suddenly everyone’s a theology scholar!”

“Read that book again sometime. Women are painted as bigger antagonists than the Egyptians and Romans combined. It stinks.”

“So you were an artist? Big deal.”

“That’s why he’s the King, and you’re a schmuck.”

“ I repeat; this is not a drill. This is the Apocalypse. ”

“ We call this piece "The Fecalator.” One look at it and your target shits him or herself.“

” I just love to fuck with the clergy, man, I just love it.“

"Let’s kill people.”

“Ah, Sweet Jesus! Did you have to use the whole can?!”

“Or you’ll do what exactly? Hit me with that…fish?”

“Honestly, you bottom feeders and your arrogance, you think everybody’s just trying to get in your knickers.”

“Do you go around drenching everybody that comes into your room with flame-retardant chemicals?”

“I am to charge you with a holy crusade.”

“What’s the fine print?”

“I hate when people need it spelled out for them!”

“We’re here to pick up chicks.”

“Well, it’s a lot more compact than the flaming sword, but it’s not nearly as impressive.”

“How am I supposed to strike fear into the hearts of the wicked with this thing? ”

“What work did you do? You lit a few fires.”

“Mass genocide is the most exhausting activity one can engage in, outside of soccer.”

“You’re a man of principle.”

“We figure an abortion clinic’s a good place to meet loose women.”

“You’ll offer us sex as a reward?”

“Fucking Breakfast Club; all these stupid kids actually show up for detention.”

“Movies are fucking bullshit.”

“This is gonna sound really bad. I can’t believe I’m even thinking about this, but…”

"Someone told me I’d meet you and you’d take me some place I was suppose to go.”

“I feel like Han Solo, you’re Chewie, and she’s Ben Kenobi and we’re in that fucked up bar!”

“She’s the slut. Booong!”

“All right, well lets say we’re caught in a situation where we have like five minutes left to live. I don’t know, a bomb or something’s gonna go off; would you fuck us then?”

“Tell me something nobody knows.”

“When you do it, you’re thinking about guys.”

“Wars, bigotry, televangelism.”

“You’re saying having beliefs is a bad thing?”

“My eyes are open. For the first time, I get it.”

“Ours was designed to be a life of servitude and worship, and bowing and scraping and adoration.”

“You know, all I’m saying is that maybe one of us needs a little nap…”

“I think we may have to dispatch our would-be dispatchers.”

“See, don’t let your sympathies get the best of you. They did me, once. ”

“I’ve heard a rant like this before.”

“I have seen what happens to the proud when they take on the throne. ”

“Would you - could you - have believed me? You had to come to it gradually. Only now, after all you’ve seen, could you accept the truth.”

“I don’t want this. It’s too big.”

“It’s unfair! It’s unfair to ask a child to shoulder that responsibility, and it’s unfair to ask you to do the same.”

“I wish I could take it all back. But I can’t. This is who you are.”

“Everything I am is a lie.”

“No one can take that away from you, not even God. ”

“I guess this means no more cheating on my taxes.”

“Come on, demon, I wanna see you try that shit on someone who’s already dead!”

“And the pawns are moving into place as we speak…”

“But then your kind came along, and made it so much worse.”

“But true to his irresponsible nature, man won’t own up to being its engineer, so he blames his dark deeds on my ilk!”

“I’d rather not exist than go back to that…and if everyone has to go down with me, so be it.”

“The whole fucking world’s against us, dude, I swear to God. ”

“If I had a dick, I’d go get laid.”

“I think that God is dead.”

“I can’t wait to die.”

“Do you know what makes a human being decent? Fear.”

“I’m responsible for nineteen of the twenty top-grossing films of all time.”

“The humans have besmirched everything bestowed on them.”

“Don’t you think it’s time we went home?”

“No pleasure, no rapture, no exquisite sin greater… than central air.”

“What the fuck is this shit? Who the fuck are you, lady? Why the fuck did you hug my head? ”

“What the fuck is this, The Piano? Why ain’t this broad talking?”

“You of anyone should know that tits don’t make a woman.”

“But I’m a fuckin’ demon.”

“Guys like us just don’t fall out of the fucking sky, you know.”

“Beautiful, naked, big-titted women just don’t fall out of the sky, you know.”

“You’re Catholic, can’t you talk to them?”

“Consequences schmonsequences.”

“Snootch to the motherfuckin’ nootch!”

“Let it never be said that your anal-retentive attention to detail never yielded positive results.”

“You can’t be anal-retentive if you don’t have an anus. ”

“Ladies and gentlemen, you have been judged guilty of sinning against our almighty God, and I promise you, you shall pay for your trespasses, in blood!”

“I’m feeling a little exposed here…”

“Wings, now!”

“I know they were just kids, but we kicked their fucken pube-less asses!”

“Anyone who isn’t dead or from another plane of existence would do well to cover their ears right about now.”

“Are you saying you believe?”

“I’m telling you, man, this ceremony is a big mistake.”

“Go back to your paper routes, you Mighty Duck fucks.”

“Very basic strategy. If your enemies know where you are, then don’t be there.”

“Your continued existence is a mockery of morality.”

“You’re his father, you sick fuck.”

“You, on the other hand, are an innocent. You lead a good life.”

“You have more skeletons in your closet than the rest of this assembled party. I cannot even mention them aloud.”

“You’re awfully nude.”

“You know, maybe you’re wrong about this slaughter thing.”

“The major sins never change.”

“What, are you insinuating that I don’t have what it takes anymore?”

“Get me a… Holy Bartender.”

“Not born. SHIT into existence.”

“I can take anyone I meet and give a zillion and nine ideas a second, but I can’t keep any for myself.”

“I have issues with anyone who treats God as a burden instead of a blessing.”

“You people don’t celebrate your faith; you mourn it.”

“Your hearts are in the right place, but your brains got to wake up.”

“You were martyred?”

“I can’t believe we forgot about the magazine.”

“Smoke that motherfucker like it ain’t no thang!”

“NOBODY IS FUCKING ME! YOU GOT THAT!?”

“If you don’t pipe down, I’m going to yank your sack off like a paper towel.”

“Your hard-on for smiting has prevented us from negotiating what should be the relatively simple matter of catching or staying on a bus.”

“Well, I say we get drunk, because I’m all out of ideas.”

“Oh no, I’ve seen way too many Bond movies to know that you never reveal all the details of your plan, no matter how close you may think you are to winning.”

“You’re looking at eons of repression getting purged.”

“If only they’d let us jerk off.”

“Quit killing people, that’s high profile.”

“So do you do anal? Is it true that chicks fart if you blast ‘em in the ass?”

“The man was right about you. And I am going to go home and tell him so.”

“Quit leering at me. People are gonna think I just broke up with you.”

“You know, I hear pregnant women can have sex until their third trimester.”

“You’re a pure soul… but you didn’t say "God bless you” when I sneezed.“

"Holy shit, it’s the Pope!”

“Ever the fucking apple polisher!”

“Hey Big Bird! Wanna play the Counting Game? Count the shells, Sucker Duck!”

“Snoogans.”

“So this is all about revenge.”

“After the first couple million years, escape from hell became my all consuming reason.”

“You mean, I’m pregnant?”

“You think someone threw him out of a plane with a message written on him like in Con Air? You ever see that flick?”

“It’s the living dead! Kill it! Kill it!”

“Wait a second! Between guys with wings, guys falling out of the sky, and guys trying like hell to fuck me, I think I’ve been pretty patient so far, and I’m not taking another step until you tell me where the hell you came from!”

“I came from Heaven.”

“Is this why I had to come down here this morning, man? Is this why I had to miss my fucking cartoons?”

“Let me give you a little inside information about God.”

“People die for it, people kill for it.”

“His piece will be rubbing inside of your armor!”

“You know ,death is a worry of the living. The dead like myself only worry about decay and necrophiliacs.”

“I told them I was coming up on a routine possession.”

“'Makin’ with the love.’ It’s a nice way of saying boning.”

“Do I come off as gay?”

“I got half a stock when she kissed me.”

“I hope you’re the skeeball type.”

“Bow down, stupid!”

“It never ends!”

“What the fuck happened to that guy’s head?!”

“She’s a clever girl, that one.”

“You ready to make some of those changes I’ve been talking about?”

“One of the drawbacks to being a martyr is that you have to die.”

“All is being taken care of.”

“Why are we here?”

*touches nose and makes funny noise*

“I told you she was a woman.”

“She’s not really a woman. She’s not really anything.”

“She’s something alright.”

“Are you saying you believe?”

“Crisis of faith over?”

“Why don’t you name the kid after me?”

“We’re in Mexico?”

“I couldn’t help it, the bitch was hot!”

“You know, you can’t talk to me like that anymore, I’m gonna be somebody’s mother.”

“Yo, we should go to Quick Stop.”

[chchanging]

Oc Interview — Téa Ittai

I saw other people doing this and used the template for a few of my dragon age ocs, but I haven’t written for Téa in a while so~

Name “Full name: Téa Ittai. Lovelady, if I’m working.” She winks, leaning back in her seat casually. “Everyone seems to call me something different, nowadays—I’ve learned not to be picky.”

Are you single She giggles airily, unbothered by such a question. Her eyes sparkle with amusement. “Depends who’s asking.”

Are you happy “And why wouldn’t I be?” She asks slyly. It isn’t an answer, but it seems to be as much as she’ll give.

Are you angry “I could get there, if you really want me to.” Another wink, as carefree as the first.

Are your parents still married “I would assume so, although you’ll forgive me if I’m not in a hurry to dig them up and ask.” She smiles lopsidedly, either unbothered by the memory of them or very good at acting like it.

NINE FACTS

Birth Place “I grew up in Drummond’s Point. Nice little place...” Her voice trails off a bit, eyes glazing over before she shakes herself out of it. “Maybe it’s just the nostalgia talking, but I don’t think I’ve ever found a place quite like it.”

Hair Color “Ah, it’s pretty dark, isn’t it? I’m not surprised you can’t tell. It’s brown, actually—although a lot of people mistake it for black if they don’t get a good look.” It’s styled into braids, wrapped in a colorful silk scarf. She twirls the ends of the scarf in her fingers as she talks.

Eye Color “I understand it was something of a surprise when they turned out so light. This pale a green isn’t a common color for someone who looks like me.” She hums, “I suppose the little glow would be more easily missed if they were darker, but I’ve always sort of liked them.”

Birthday She grins wide, and it slithers across her face in a way that might remind one of a snake. “Are you asking my age?” A click of the tongue, teasing, “Awfully bold.”

Mood “I like to have fun and I’m easily bored.” She drawls, “My blessing and my curse, respectively. Not much else matters, I’d say.”

Gender “Now isn’t that a nebulous concept?”

Summer or winter “Such extremes! I hate both, honestly.” She snorts, “I’d rather take spring or autumn. Those moments in between, when the weather hasn’t decided what it wants to be, yet.”

Morning or afternoon “When it’s so early in the morning that it’s almost still night—that’s about as good as it gets all day.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE?

Are you in love She sputters out a little surprised laugh. “Good one.” She manages between strained chuckles.

Do you believe in love at first sight “If it does exist, it’s too rare to ever consider it a viable option. There’s too many other explanations for too many similar feelings.”

Who ended your last relationship “I did,” She mutters, casting her eyes downward for the briefest of moments. “Was better that way. I was leaving, and he...he had plenty of other options. Probably didn’t even notice I was gone.”

She sighs and reclines further, eyes cast skyward thoughtfully. “It’s been nice to see him again, but I don’t regret it. Not really. I’m not the type to get mixed up with for too long, if you know what’s good for you.”

Have you ever broken someone’s heart “I doubt that very much,” She laughs aloud, “I generally don’t bother the ones looking for something deeper. That’d just be cruel of me, I think.”

Are you afraid of commitments There’s a mischievous spark in her eye at this. “Who’s to say I’m afraid of anything? I’m a mage—things are usually afraid of me.”

Have you hugged someone within the last week “Of course!” Abruptly, she straightens up in her seat, face uncharacteristically serious. “I have a daily quota to fill.” It’s unclear whether or not she is joking.

Have you ever had a secret admirer She waves the question off, barely even sparing a second to think it over. “That would be awfully foolish.”

Have you ever broken your own heart Unblinkingly, she smiles. That’s all she does.

SIX CHOICES

Love or Lust “Well, one definitely comes with less entanglements.” She tilts her head, “Moving around as much as I used to, I didn’t often participate in much of either, to be honest.”

Lemonade or iced tea “Iced tea! Extra sweet, of course.”

Cats or Dogs “Don’t you think it’s kind of rude to ask a wild mage to choose?” She folds her arms behind her head casually, “But cats. Definitely cats.”

A few best friends or many regular friends “The more the merrier, right?”

Wild night out or romantic night in “I’m more used to being out and about at night. I’m usually working, now, though...or too exhausted because I was just working...”

Day or night “Night. Used to be that there were less people around to give me trouble if I was out and about. Now if I’m wearing the uniform it doesn’t really matter.” She shrugs nonchalantly.

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

Been caught sneaking out “If you can believe it, I used to be too worried I’d be caught to break rules too often.” There’s a wistful sigh to go along with the faraway look in her eyes. “Life comes at you fast, I guess.”

Fallen down/up the stairs “I refuse to answer on the grounds that Chase might be listening from somewhere nearby.”

Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt “My, aren’t you digging deep?” She tilts her head, tone nonchalant but eyes twinkling sharply.

Wanted to disappear “I’ve been disappearing periodically since I was a kid,” She kicks one leg over the other, stretching them out in front of her, “If I suddenly get the urge again—you’ll know in that you’ll never see me again.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

Smile or eyes “Eyes tell you everything you need to know about a person if you know how to read ‘em.” The look in hers is almost clinical in nature. A scholar studying her subject with incalculable experience. The careless smile she wears belies the intelligence in her gaze.

Shorter or Taller “I’m not picky—height never really seems to have much impact on overall appearance, I don’t think.” Her shoulders bounce again in an uncommitted gesture, “I’ve been attracted to people taller and shorter than me. It doesn’t generally factor.”

Intelligence or Attraction “You could be the smartest person in the room and it isn’t gonna replace what isn’t there. If I don’t feel it, I don’t feel it.” She tilts her head, “I’ve too often seen intelligence translate into arrogance or cruelty. It isn’t all that.”

Hook-up or Relationship She sighs heavily. It would seem that the subject matter is finally starting to weigh on her for some reason. “Turns out relationships aren’t for me.” Is all she says.

FAMILY

Do you and your family get along “We certainly did at one point.” The smile slowly returns to her face. It’s different than some of the others she’s worn since the questions began—softer, in some ways. “My parents loved each other, and they loved me. That’s all I really could have asked for.”

Would you say you have a “messed up life” She laughs out loud, seemingly caught off guard. “I’d say I’m pretty cursed, wouldn’t you? Or maybe I am the curse...I can never decide.”

Have you ever ran away from home “Nope.” She pops the “p” sound, smiling widely. “I was perfectly well-behaved. Sort of.”

Have you ever gotten kicked out “Nah, my parents were never that heartless. Can’t work out a conflict if the other half isn’t there.”

FRIENDS

Do you secretly hate one of your friends She snorts derisively. It looks as if the idea puts a bad taste in her mouth, the way she scrunches her eyebrows together. “Sometimes it’s useful to stay on good terms with people you don’t particularly like—but if I hated them I wouldn’t call them a friend in the first place. Even if I was that type, I’m not so good at lying that I could hide something as strong as hatred.”

Do you consider all of your friends good friends “All?” She hums thoughtfully, casting her eyes skyward and bobbing her head from side to side, “No, probably not. I do what I can to keep things sweet, but there’s a lot of us now, Y’know? Not to mention it’s unrealistic to expect your personality to mesh well with everyone outside of a working environment.”

Who is your best friend “Chase gets me.” She chuckles fondly as if recalling a pleasant memory. “More than people usually do, I mean. Didn’t think much of him to begin with, but he’s...alright.”

Who knows everything about you One corner of her mouth lifts bitterly. “I don’t believe anyone’s had the privilege, now that I think about it.”

[jeannedarkterraguard]

Hey your girlfriend sounds adorable. Might i ask how you two met?

Ok, I've gotten this ask a few times now so i guess i should make an actual post about it.

Strap in this is gonna be a long post. (TL;DR at the end)

So Lisa and I actually met on our fist day of elementary school. We were in the same class, were sat next to each other and we immediately... hated each other. She was an annoying goody two shoes while I already had my “who cares attitude” and general disrespect for any kind of authority. We didn't really spend any time with each other outside of class, but in class we were bitter rivals. She spend most of her time studying so she was always on top of the class and I was (without trying to sound arrogant) intelligent enough that I didn't have to study at all to do pretty much as good as she did (it also helped that we were both the only ones who already knew how to read before getting into school).

That was how it was for about a year until one day we were writing a test and somehow I didn't know the answer to one question. which was when she leaned over and... just told me the answer. Needless to say I was pretty perplexed. Up until that point I thought she was just a stupid teachers pet and then she just helps me cheat... I was confused... (I have since asked her multiple times why she did that and her answer was: “It looked like you needed help”).

That same day I was for some reason not going home immediately after class and instead stayed a few minutes late. That lead to me seeing something I wouldn't have seen otherwise... Lisa sitting on the ground surrounded by three boys who were clearly picking on her. She was crying and I... I just didn't like seeing that (not in a “only I get to be mean to her”-way but instead I just wasn't used to seeing her cry because whenever I said something mean to her she'd just shoot something back with a shiteating grin. Like when I made fun of how she eats her bread and she just grinned at me and said “at least my mom doesn't have to cut the crust of mine”) so I decided to step in.

I punched one of the boys in the face and threw my backpack at another one at which point they just ran away. I helped Lisa up and she thanked me but was afraid that they would just return as soon as I was gone. I offered to walk her home which was when I learned that she lived just a few houses down the street from me. On the way she told me that these boys did that everyday since pretty much the first day of school and we agreed to walk to and from school together.

Not a lot changed after that... or at least we didn't notice how things changed... we didn't exactly become friends, or even stopped bickering with each other but we started spending time with each other during recess and our conversations became a lot less mean. (honestly looking back I would say we were friends from that point onward but at the time we didn't think so)

The first time I actually thought of us as friends was when someone else invited me to their birthday party and said I should “bring my friend” and I was like: “What? Lisa? No, were not friends! Are we? Hmm... I guess we kinda are friends”

It carried on like this for a few years (we were 15 at this point I believe) until our soccer-team (oh yeah, we were on the same soccer-team since before we became friends I didn't mention that before because it really wasn't important but... well it becomes important now) was having a game against a team on norderney (a little island on the coast of germany about three hours from where we live) and since it was during summer-vacation our trainer decided we should make it a weekend-camping-trip instead of just going there for one day and coming back in the evening. So we naturally shared a tent (now before I continue I just want to say that if we somehow ever meet in real-life and you bring the next part of this story up I will deny it ever happened). But because this was my first time traveling without my parents I was really home-sick and couldn't sleep and Lisa calmed me down by... we were cuddling okay... don't make a big deal about it!

After we came back from the camp, I was really fucking tired but apparently my body had decided that, after one weekend cuddling with my best friend, I would never be able to sleep again without her. The problem with that was, like I mentioned, it was summer-vacation and Lisa was visiting her grandmother for a week so that wasn't an option.

So after a week of maybe 2 hours of sleep per day Lisa returned (Fun-Fact: to this day that is still the longest time we spent apart from each other since becoming friends) and when she came over she looked like crap. Turns out she also couldn't sleep without me.

All of that wasn't a big problem since we already had sleepovers all the time (we actually each had an extra mattress in our rooms for that purpose) so about another year went by where we not only spent pretty much every waking moment together, but also every sleeping moment.

Then after about a year she found herself a boyfriend and we spend less time together, like we still saw each other nearly everyday but she understandably wanted to spend time with her boyfriend too.

(not to go into too much detail but I wasn't having a great time back then. Because at that point I was already madly in love with her but also too afraid to say anything because she had a boyfriend and as far as I knew she was straight)

One night I was sitting in the living room watching TV when the doorbell rang. I opened to find Lisa standing there, crying. Turns out her boyfriend was cheating on her, or rather he was cheating on his actual girlfriend with her. I invited her inside, we talked and... well everything basically got back to how it was before.

Then a few weeks after my 16th birthday my parents weren't home and we were having a Harry Potter marathon, playing some drinking game. (only with beer but we're both pretty lightweight when it comes to alcohol so we were still getting a bit tipsy by the time we started Goblet of Fire). Somehow she was reaching for the chips-bowl in my lap and our faces ended up just inches from each other and... we ended up kissing (I'm still not sure who initiated it... probably me). We immediately stopped, shocked by what just happened and we started rationalizing it (you know we were a little drunk and all that) and decided that it was just an accident and should never happen again... five minutes later we were making out. By the time we stopped again we were halfway through the Half-Blood Prince. We decided to call it a night and talk about it in the morning when we were both sober.

So after a night with little to no sleep for both of us (remember we were not used to sleeping alone anymore combined with what had just happened soo... yeah) we met up again and talked for hours. In the end we decided to actually try a relationship, but keep it secret in case it didn't work out (we weren't really the best at keeping it secret though so after only a few weeks one of our friends asked us, and I quote “when are you two finally gonna pull those sticks out of your asses and just fuck already”). And... well that's pretty much it. We moved in with each other after school, got two cats and have now been together for about ten years

And now that I see that all written down I realize how much my life sounds like a bad fanfic.

(TL:DR: We met in elementary school, spend a year hating each other, then became best friends for nine years and then became a couple)

[carewyncromwell]

Hey, guys! So I don’t really have enough material in this most recent side quest to work with to create full roleplaying posts for it (largely because the writing for this quest was stilted as all get out and there really weren’t very high stakes)...so instead, I’ll be doing something a little different, and simply writing out my personal rewrite of the quest’s storyline, as performed by my MC, Carewyn. Most of the overall framework of what happened in the quest will still be there, but I will try to flesh out or rewrite some things to hopefully better develop the ideas and help them more smoothly fit into canon. Hope you enjoy!

When Lucius Malfoy first arrived at Hogwarts, Carewyn was immediately suspicious of him. She wasn’t familiar with the man, but she thought that his timing of coming to Hogwarts for an inspection only after the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher went on the run from the law reeked of the school governors and/or Ministry of Magic wanting to put forward a good show of looking after the students for the press, so that they couldn’t be condemned for their inaction.*

* = (Yes, I know this quest is supposed to be aimed at year 2, but...well...I honestly can’t justify why year 2 would be when an inspection would happen. I suppose the Ice Curse was still in effect, but it’s not like the Ministry or the school governors took any action in response to the danger of the Vaults, even though it seems like the perfect ammunition for Lucius to use against Dumbledore. He was able to coax all of the school governors to sack Dumbledore in the name of saving students during the Chamber of Secrets arc later on, so it feels like this could’ve been done here too, if the Ice Vault was still raging. Dumbledore would also have little reason to think we’re “good at solving mysteries” if this takes place in year 2, since we at that point haven’t even successfully dealt with one Cursed Vault yet. So in this version of events, Lucius has only just become a school governor in anticipation of his son, Draco, attending school in the next few years. And because the Statue Vault and Rakepick are currently being tackled by the Ministry already, Lucius doesn’t really have any more action he can take. It also makes very little sense for a five-year-old Draco to be brought along to Hogwarts. His mother Narcissa is a stay-at-home mother, and even in the films, it’s pretty clear she -- and Lucius, at least in the books -- wouldn’t want her precious bb boy being taken care of by a pair of strangers with no experience in child-rearing. And I don’t think either movie! or book!Lucius would want any “bad influences” like protagonist MC around his son at that age, either -- at least by age nine, Draco would be pretty locked into the pureblood beliefs he’s been raised with, and since he’d be attending school in two years, it would give Draco a good preview of what his school life will be like ahead of time.)

Carewyn’s suspicions only heightened when Flitwick summoned her and Ben to the Charms classroom and Lucius Malfoy was there talking to Professor Flitwick. She had been very flattered by Flitwick’s praise of her Charm work...but the way Lucius looked at her when he turned to her...

Even though yes, Carewyn didn’t like the mention of Jacob, there was something else she could sense in Lucius’s eyes -- something intrigued. Although he smiled very pleasantly, there was a definite marked interest in his voice, not unlike how Professor Tofty greeted her upon first meeting. Lucius had definitely heard a lot more than just about Jacob -- but despite this, Carewyn merely gave Lucius a very cool smile in return.

Lucius’s condescension toward Ben for his blood status only made Carewyn dislike Lucius all the more. When he’d left the room, Carewyn agreed with Ben’s distaste for the school governor immediately.

“Professor Flitwick,” she said slowly, “are the Malfoys an old Wizarding family?” Carewyn had heard plenty of stories about her mother’s family and their particular dislike of Muggles, so it seemed logical to think the Malfoys were like them.

Flitwick had confirmed that yes, they were, adding that Lucius could be difficult sometimes. “But he is one of the school governors,” he’d said. “So we simply must cooperate.“

After Potions class, Merula and Carewyn were both forwarded to Dumbledore’s office by their Head of House, Severus Snape. While waiting for Lucius Malfoy to arrive, Merula explained a bit more about Lucius Malfoy’s history with Voldemort, which thoroughly justified Carewyn’s distrust of the man. When Dumbledore and Lucius arrived, however, Carewyn and Merula soon found themselves roped into looking after Lucius’s son, the bratty nine-year-old Draco Malfoy.

Okay -- I know a lot of people liked how Draco was portrayed in the game and enjoyed how he (if you picked to protect his secret) expressed genuine admiration for MC, but...yeah, in this version of events, he’s not nearly so cute. (I mean, come on, in the books, Harry compared Draco to Dudley on first meeting -- this kid has some serious issues with empathy and a real selfish streak. He might be a lot more clever than Dudley, but in my mind, he should be pretty fun to hate at this stage, rather than cute.)

For one, because he’s older, Draco’s in less need of babysitting and more in need of guidance. Lucius thought it only fitting that two such promising students show Draco the best Hogwarts has to offer -- and Draco, being older and therefore even more entitled, arrogant, and condescending than he’s portrayed in the game, was sizing up his competition just as much as he was tailing after them. His father Lucius had told him all about Merula’s parents and about Carewyn’s reputation as a Cursebreaker, so he knew that both girls were incredibly powerful and thus were both people Draco should have in his circle, whether as allies or as pawns. While Lucius was at school, he became very talented at making connections, which has served him well in the present by giving him the power to either sway or pressure people into doing things his way -- and Draco not only is expected to do the same, but the young Malfoy heir is eager to follow in his father’s footsteps and already be the “big man on campus” when he starts at Hogwarts. Even if both Carewyn and Merula will be graduated by the time he starts school, those ties could still be very beneficial down the road.

That being said, Draco and Merula did still instantly end up at each other’s throats. Even if Draco was supposed to “get Carewyn and Merula in his circle,” thanks to his spoiled upbringing by his parents, Draco has no social skills whatsoever, and so has little idea of how to charm people without putting down others in the process. Even though (or perhaps because) Merula was a bully herself most of her school career, she reacted very harshly to Draco’s nasty attitude, and soon the two were verbally smacking each other around with barbed, personal insults.

Despite her growing dislike for both Lucius and his son, Carewyn did everything she could to be the mediating force between them and even successfully distracted Draco by asking about his interests and taking him to the Quidditch pitch. Not long after they arrived, Draco succeeded in snatching a spare broom and started flying around the pitch.

Merula sincerely hoped that he’d fall and break his neck, but Carewyn -- even if she didn’t particularly like Draco -- knew it’d be terrible if he did hurt himself. So she boarded her own Cleansweep (which she’d kept locked in the Slytherin Quidditch tent, in case one of Orion’s players needed a spare broom) and took off after Draco.

Once in the air, Carewyn kept her wand close in case something went wrong. Fortunately she needn’t have feared -- within a minute, she could see that Draco was a very talented flier. In an attempt to distract him away from fighting with Merula, Carewyn suggested that she could teach Draco some flying tricks. Draco was scornful at first, until Carewyn weaved through the stands and threaded the needle through all three goal posts before sweeping into an extreme dive and pulling up mere feet from the ground. She smirked up at Draco, folding her legs over her broom so she could lean back effortlessly with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Ready for a lesson now, Mr. Malfoy?” she called up to him coolly.

The young Malfoy heir couldn’t hide the greedy look in his eye at the thought of learning those cool tricks, nor could he hide how thrilled he was learning how to do an extreme dive.

Once the two had finally come back down to the ground, Draco asked Carewyn if she was on the Slytherin Quidditch team. When she said no, explaining that she just didn’t have the time to devote to Quidditch, Draco reacted with scorn.

“Because of those Vaults, I guess?” he presumed.

He said that his father had told him all about Carewyn’s Cursebreaking, and her family too -- that her brother was a delinquent and her mother had run away from home to marry a Muggle. Merula was actually a bit startled by this, not having heard that particular fact about Carewyn’s mother, but Carewyn herself kept her temper, even as her tone grew cooler and dryer than ever.

“My family may not be perfect, but I’m proud of it, all the same,” she said softly.

What she didn’t add out loud was, “I certainly wouldn’t be proud of my family if I were in your shoes.”

A bit miffed he hadn’t been able to get a rise out of Carewyn, Draco soon enough turned his attentions back to Merula. He ranted about how his father had said Hogwarts was going to the dogs and about how they had so many Mudbloods amongst their ranks. Carewyn stiffened very sharply at the use of the word.

“That is not a word to be used in civilized conversation,” she told him very severely.

“My father says it all the time,” Draco argued.

“Really?” said Carewyn, her lips turning up in a cool smile. “Don’t reckon that’s something you should admit too readily, given your own family’s history -- I wager a fair number of people at this school would hex you to belch slugs for using a word like that.”

Merula's face broke out into a smug smirk. “Don’t give me any ideas, Cromwell.”

This change in topic, however, led to Draco wanting a proper dueling lesson from Merula and Carewyn. Naturally, because Draco didn’t have a wand of his own and they certainly weren’t going to lend him theirs, the two girls refused -- and soon enough, they got word that Lucius was finished with his inspection and would be leaving the school soon.

Of course, that didn’t happen, because sure enough, Lucius’s wand went missing. The prime suspect? The Malfoy family house elf, Dobby.

Carewyn had little experience with house-elves prior to Dobby (only having met Pitts the previous year), so the poor elf’s maltreatment at the Malfoys’ hands greatly upset her. Determined to prove his innocence, she asked Dobby to tell her whatever he could say without hurting himself and -- upon Dobby trying to smack his own head against the ground -- she actually bent down and grabbed hold of him in both hands to try to wrestle him into not hurting himself.

“It’s okay, Dobby,” she kept telling him. “I’ll make sure you don’t get blamed.”

It didn’t take long at all for Carewyn to get to the bottom of who had taken the wand. If Dobby felt he couldn’t tell her who the thief was because he couldn’t speak ill of the Malfoy family, then there was only one possible suspect. Catching up with Merula and Draco, she confronted the Malfoy heir about having taken his father’s wand. Draco denied it at first, but pretty quickly came clean.

“I’m not too young to learn how to duel!” he said. “I wouldn’t have borrowed Father’s wand if you’d just lent me yours!”

After some prodding, Draco admitted where he’d hidden his father’s wand. It didn’t take long for Merula to find it.

Despite the younger boy’s bravado, though, Carewyn could still tell that Draco hadn’t meant for this whole thing to go so far. He wasn’t really sorry about the thought that Dobby could be blamed for something he did -- but he’d enjoyed what he’d learned so far and wanted to stay at Hogwarts a little longer so he could learn some spells.

Feeling some compassion despite herself, Carewyn sat down on the edge of the fountain next to Draco.

“If you give me your solemn word only to use this in a formal duel,” she said very seriously, “I will teach you one spell. Do we have a deal?”

His eyes once again greedy for knowledge, Draco nodded and eagerly agreed. Holding out her wand in front of her, Carewyn told Draco to put his hand on top of hers. Then she walked him step-by-step through the wand movements for the spell “Everte Sactum,” the Stumbling Hex.

“When you cast this correctly, it will hurl your opponent off their feet,” she explained. “That can then give you the time you need to get away, if you’re in trouble.”

Her eyes then narrowed sharply upon Draco’s face. “Remember your word, though -- you will only use this in a duel, not for fun. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Draco said breezily, but he was grinning from ear to ear all the same.

The group met back up with Lucius Malfoy and Dumbledore in the Headmaster’s Office. When Lucius asked Carewyn who had stolen the wand, she answered simply,

“No one, as far as I can tell. Merula found it on the floor near the Entrance Hall -- no thief to be seen.”

After all, Draco had only admitted to “borrowing” his father’s wand -- not stealing it.

”There’s no evidence that Dobby couldn’t have still taken it,” said Lucius.

Dobby shook his head frantically, wringing his hands desperately as he insisted he didn’t take the wand and never would. Carewyn very gently cut off Dobby’s denials by pointing out that house elves can’t lie to or speak ill of their masters without hurting themselves. The fact that Dobby was not hurting himself while claiming he didn’t take the wand was proof in itself that he didn’t commit the crime. And everyone must be considered innocent until proven guilty...right?

Lucius considered Carewyn carefully, his gray eyes oddly critical and shrewd upon her face -- then he inclined his head in an abridged nod.

“...Wisely said, Miss Cromwell. You could be an excellent lawyer, with sentiments such as those.”

His gray eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly as his lips curled up in a cool smile.

“I daresay that would please your grandfather quite a bit.”

Carewyn’s blood ran cold. Lucius Malfoy was in touch with her grandfather, Charles Cromwell? She’d never met her mother’s father before -- but given that Lucius Malfoy spoke highly of him, she wondered more than ever if she was incredibly fortunate in that...

For his part, Lucius seemed satisfied by how taken aback Carewyn was and, with a flourish of his cloak, swept toward the office door.

“Come, Draco,” he called over his shoulder.

Before Draco left, he paused, turning back to look at Carewyn.

“I won’t forget that,” he said. “What you did.”

He didn’t need to articulate what he meant.

“And I swear -- when we’re both done at Hogwarts, we’ll meet again, Cromwell. And when we do, I’ll be the greatest wizard ever -- greater than you could ever be.”

Despite the arrogance in his expression, Draco was still grinning from ear to ear in a kind of vicious determination.

Carewyn’s blue eyes grew a little smaller as she smirked in return.

“Good ambition. Just keep in mind -- there are many ways to be ‘great.’“

With an offhand scoff, Draco turned on his heel and followed his father, not fully able to bite back the smile still clinging to his lips.

When Dumbledore, Carewyn, and Merula were out of earshot, Lucius spoke to Draco at last.

“She knew you took my wand, didn’t she?” he asked.

Draco, although startled, reluctantly nodded.

“And yet she dared lie to my face,” said Lucius in dark amusement. “Rather effectively, too. Tell me -- what did you think of her, Draco?”

Draco shrugged offhandedly. “All right, I guess. She’s a decent flier -- and her spellwork’s okay.”

“Coming from you, that’s high praise,” said Lucius dryly. His lips curled up in a wry smile. “Seems I was right to think I should keep an eye on her advancement...”

Dobby was so grateful to Carewyn that he said that if she ever needed him, she only had to ask. Carewyn was very happy for that -- she had a feeling that she could use at least one friend in the Malfoy household, if Lucius really had such close ties to her mother’s family.

[softbuckismykink]

The Last Goodbye

So I read that^ and came up with a story and I started writing it... Then when I was about to post I realized opps I read the pronouns wrong... Can’t be bothered to change my story though...  so here it is... :)

Not an x-over just borrowing characters from another show. To play Buck’s ex is Clay Spencer from SEAL Team. Now I didn’t watch the show pass like episode ten in season one so I don’t know much about the character or his origin story. I’m just borrowing him cause I can’t be assed to create an O.C. just for a one shot.  If you happen to have knowledge of how military/navy works please suspend your disbelief, I did research but honestly it’s just me reading wikipedia so I more than likely have gotten the elements concerning SEAL training and other military stuff wrong. You are warned. Don’t get offended.

Another Warning: This is a Buddie fic but it includes intimate scenes (not sex) between Buck and Clay, if you are a Buddie purist, this is your warning. 

X-posted on  AO3

Inspired by a tumblr post by @theladyandthewolves​ (Sorry I forgot to add, I did the linky link thing in AO3 but forgot to add it here)

Summary: In which team finds out Buck has a husband, when said husband turned up out of a blue and asked for a divorce. 

********

We were almost beautiful A broken piece of art put on display But we were never possible Another perfect moment thrown away I know somebody out there will love you They'll be the forever we never were 'Cause we were everything that's right at the wrong time

I didn't wanna lose you Leave you with a broken heart But wherever we are, we're miles apart I know that we tried, but this is the last goodbye

Life is going good for Buck. He’s back at 118. His team forgave him and his best friend forgave him, and he’s on his way to forgiving himself. 2019 felt like a sucky year for him with the bombing, recovering from his injuries, the tsunami, the lawsuit, Eddie’s street fighting, Bobby’s being exposed to radiation and weeks of worrying about his found!father dying of either radiation poisoning, aplastic anemia, or some kind of cancer.  

Of course there’s no guarantee that 2020 is gonna be better, but Buck likes to feel optimistic about these things. He has to be since it feels like the rest of his found family are the gloom and loom type, so it’s his job to keep the spirits up or they’ll all fall into despair. He said as much to his team as they gather around the side of the fire truck, just having arrived for their shift.       

“No seriously look at what happened last year. I got that injury and I was admittedly surly for a while--”

“Oh you were more than surly, Buck.” Hen commented.

“Okay I was, but that’s not my point. My point was I not my usual happy self and you guys were all just affected by it. And I feel like it’s my fault.”

“Not everything is about you, Buck.” Eddie said, shaking his head, though clearly amused.

“I’m just saying, I’m on to something here because all bad luck started with me being injured last year. So this year part my new years’s resolution is to generate enough positive energy to drive away all the bad luck you guys attract.”

“Yeah right, we are the trouble magnets,” Hen gestures to herself and the rest of the crew, “not you who’s pretty much in competition with Chim for the Idiot with the Most Death-Defying Experience Award.”

“Of course, I mean Chim is still winning in that,” Buck said smugly, “which pretty much proves my point.”

“Okay, Buck. Whatever lets you sleep at night.” Chim shook his head, with a laugh.

The good natured ribbing continued until they all noticed a man standing by the entrance of the station. Dirty blond curls and a full beard, in tight henley and cargo pants, he looked out of place among the clean shaven firefighter crew but he walked inside with so much confidence that you’d think he owned the place. 

“Clay what are you doing here?” Buck asked as he walked towards the scruffy looking man. 

“Hi, Evan.” The man greeted as he met Buck half way, giving Buck a tight hug and, to the young firefighter’s surprise, a kiss on his cheek. Buck could feel the stares bore onto his back. “Sorry to drop in on you at work but I don’t have you phone number or home address.”

“You mean to tell me that years of working with CIA and you can’t even get my contact info?”

“I work as their muscle Evan, I don’t do the intelligence part.”

“We both know that’s bull, Clay. You speak six languages, you are more than just the muscle.”

“And you basically thought me five of those, though I speak nine now, not all fluently but I get by.”

“And you are still arrogant as ever.” Buck sighed, some things never changed. 

“Can we talk privately?” Clay asked when he noticed the peanut gallery behind Buck.

No. Buck thought, he didn’t really want to do this here in the station but it’s only the start of his shift and he can’t really leave so he said, “I can’t leave but we can talk inside, I got a couple minutes so it better be quick.”

***

Buck lead the man to the relative privacy that the locker room provides. It’s all glass enclosure and anyone from outside can see in but he knew his colleagues would know not to bother them or listen in. 

The moment they were inside the room, Buck turned his back towards the other man, taking a moment to close the door and gather his thoughts. Fucking Clay Spencer, six years and the man still has the ability to turn his day around, making him feel all out of sorts. Buck took a deep breath before facing his husband.

“Not to be morbid Clay, but I figured after I rang that bell the next time I’ll hear about you was when I get a death notification from a CACO officer.”

“Yeah I thought so too.” Clay admitted with a slight grimace. They were young, only 19 when they got married, but they both thought they’ll be together forever. “I mean I did promise ‘till death do us part. I always thought I’d at least fulfill the death portion of that promise. But I also thought I wouldn’t meet another person I’d want to marry again and I did. Her name’s Stella, she’s a grad student at Hudson State.”

“And now you want a divorce.”

“We were over years ago we just never got around to signing the papers for it.  I’m getting married in June so--”

“So what you figure you’d come to my place of work, greet me with a kiss like we last saw each other only this morning, not six years ago and what? Demand that I go sign the divorce papers so you could go on living your merry life?”

“Look Evan, I was an ass. Heck I still am, but I wasn’t the one who left. You did.”

“Let be real, we both know I couldn’t stay.” Buck said, because it was true. DADT was repealed but the prejudice lingers. When the instructors learned that yes Evan Spencer was related to Clay Spencer and no they weren’t brothers or cousins, well let’s just say things get ugly. “I was just holding you back. Being a SEAL was your dream.”

“And there was a time that it was yours too.”

“No, I-”  It never was. I did it to be with you is what Buck wanted to say but he knew that’s unfair to both of them so he said instead, “I did it because I don’t know what I want back then. But I what I did figure out is that I was never built for that kind of life, Clay.”

“I know. You were always too soft.” Clay commented. Buck glared which didn’t escape his husband’s notice. 

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way, Evan. I’m glad you never went through with the training. Of the two of us, you were always the saint--”

“And you are just digging a deeper hole, Spencer. You should quit while you’re ahead.”

“I should, but you know that’s not really my style.”

“You saying it’s mine?” Buck challenged, eager for a fight for some reason, but Clay didn’t rise to the bait.

“You’re putting words into my mouth Evan.” Clay step in closer to him, invading Buck’s personal space. “I never thought any less of you when you quit training. I was actually relieved that you did. You were so determined when you told me you wanted to be a SEAL and I couldn’t say no even if I wanted to. So much. Cause I knew it would break you in ways that I never wanted for you, in ways that would take the best part of you that I loved so much. It was why as much as I hate him, I had Dad pull some strings to get you out of your contract and discharged. I didn’t think you’d take that as a cue to walk away.”

“You think I’m fragile, Clay but I’m not.”

“No,” Clay denied, stepping even closer, close enough that Buck could feel the other man’s breath against his cheek as the SEAL look him in the eye and explained, “I treat you like you are fragile, because that’s how you treat something that’s precious. I’ll admit to that. But I know you are strongest person I’ve ever met, Evan. I loved that about you.” 

“Then why did you let go?” Buck said, his words are demanding but his tone is all but resigned.

“Why didn’t you stay?” Clay parried back, equally yielding. They both knew the answer to each other’s question, love isn’t enough to keep them together and that’s their reality. That doesn’t negate the magnetic attraction they felt towards each other.

The SEAL stepped even closer, their foreheads within a hair’s breadth of the other, as their lips slowly gravitated towards each other. Buck felt the brush of the other man’s dry lips against his own. The touch is so painfully familiar, but gone was the spark his memories insist had once accompanied such intimate gesture. Still Buck felt nostalgic and he was just about to give in and press back when he heard a knock. They sprung apart and Buck turned to the person at the door. Buck saw his best friend leaning against the doorway arms tight cross against his chest. 

“Buck, Cap wants you for the stand-up meeting.” Eddie said tersely informed Buck while glaring at the other man. “Upstairs kitchen. Five minutes.”

“Okay, I’ll be up in two Eds.” Buck nodded with a strained smile. “Thanks for letting me know.” 

“I don’t mind but you gotta hurry or Cap would get pissed.” Eddie said before walking away, but not without directing one last glare at Buck’s visitor.

“Did he just call you, Buck?” Clay asked as soon as Eddie left the room.  “You change your surname back to Buckley? Since when?”

“Not that it’s any of your business but about two years ago after the DOD finally let me back stateside, before I started at the fire Academy. Just for work and my direct deposit bank, for now. I never got around to doing it for anything else. I guess I have to now.”

“You don’t have to. No law requires it of you.” Clay made to close the gap between them again only for Buck to step back. “It would be an unnecessary hassle.”

“You are getting married, Clay. To another person. You don’t get to act possessive and ask me to keep a name I’m half way to dropping.” Buck shook his head, clearly Clay hadn’t change a bit, still one with the need possessively attach his name to everything. The sound of a ladder truck returning reminded Buck of the meeting he was called to, “Look I really need to get going. Give me your phone.”

“Evan I-” Clay started but at the firefighter’s impatient glare, he reluctantly hands over his phone. Buck quickly typed in his contact information.

“There you have my contact number.” Buck handed the phone back and turned to leave, saying over his shoulders, “I also put in my mailing address, so you know where to send in the divorce paper.” 

“Wait, Evan--” Clay called after him, most likely noticing that Buck never put in his home address. “This is a P.O. box.” 

“Where I get my mails delivered to and I know you know how that works.” Buck walked away before the other man could launch another protest.

***

“So Buck who’s the hunk of meat?” Hen asked as soon as Buck reached the landing of the upstairs loft where the kitchen is located. His crew gathered around the kitchen island where Bobby was preparing breakfast, not at all looking like they are about to have any kind of job related meeting.

“I thought we were doing stand-up meeting?”

“No that was just Eddie here letting out the green eyed mons--Ouch!” Chimney’s explanation was interrupted by Hen elbowing him in the sternum.

“You look like you needed a save so I intervened, I didn’t know I’d be interrupting something.” Eddie remarked, a touch snidely.

“You didn’t interrupt anything. Clay was just um, saying goodbye.”

“I didn’t know friends say goodbye with a kiss.” 

“Clay’s not exactly my friend.”

“Well, he’s not family not with that kiss. What is he an ex-fling? A phase? Is that why he calls you Evan?” Eddie asked eyebrows raised and suspicious.

“Yeah I wondered about that too, we thought you said everyone just call you Buck.” Chim said, scratching his head, “I mean even your sister calls you Buck.”

“Not exactly an ex. And he’s not a phase!” Buck protested, offended at the word phase. At the surprised looks that his friends are giving him for his unusual outburst, he mellowed, shrugged and said, “I mean Clay is Clay. He always called me Evan. Ever since high school.”

“Why?”

“Um, Clay didn’t like that the name Buck is short for Buckley. Some sort of caveman reason I guessed.”

“Okay so the guy is more than a fling then?” Eddie prodded, not letting the topic die like Buck had silently asking him too, with his pointed looks. So much for best friend telepathy.

Buck sighed, resigned to admitting something he has been mum about ever since starting at 118. “Clay Spencer is my husband, or rather my soon to be ex-husband, he’s filing for divorce so.” 

It took a moment for his words to sink in and 

“Wait, what the fuck?! You were married?! And you didn’t tell us?!” Eddie asked sounding a little furious.

“To a man?!” Chim added, confounded and unable to think.

“And now you’re getting a divorce?” Bobby said calmly but the twitch of his eyebrow and the way he straightened up clearly betrayed his surprise.

“Wow my gaydar’s needs readjustment,” Hen shook her head, frowning. “I just thought you were hetero-flexible not full-on freewheeling.”

His team spoke one after another, all shocked at his revelation which granted was a little unexpected coming from him, a reformed self-diagnosed sex addict who’s afraid of commitment. 

“So what happened?” Hen asked being the first one to recover from the shock of Buck’s surprising revelation.

“Between Clay and I?” Buck asked then continued at Hen’s nod, “Well we were together since freshman year, in high school. Um- we bonded over having absent fathers. I thought we’d be together forever but Clay also wanted to join the Navy like his Dad, so we’ve always kept our relationship low key-ish until DADT got repealed. After that, we said fuck it, and got married. My dad got so mad when he found out, which was more because we were only nineteen back then, not because it was so gay which didn’t help of course but yes more because we were just kids when we got married,” Buck explained trying for casual, as he sat himself in the couch. “Anyways Clay enlisted and got into SEAL pipeline program. I got in a year after him, but I had to quit, we separated, the rest they say is history.”

“So that’s why two you broke-up? Because you quit SEAL training?” Bobby asked leaning on the railing across the couch Buck was seated at. Besides the captain is his best friend, Eddie, who has a blank look on his face that Buck couldn’t even begin to decipher. 

“Um he wanted to be a SEAL and I knew I was just holding him back so...” Buck trailed off, noticing how his team look at him with pity in their eyes, “Shit guys don’t look at me that way I’m not some broken piece of glass okay?”

When the pitying looks continued, and Bobby moved as if to comfort him, Buck said, “No, seriously guys, I’m okay. I’m not at all broken up about this at all, so you guys shouldn’t be either. Me and Clay were done years ago. It’s just we got lazy and didn’t get around to signing papers until now.”

“You don’t have to put on front with us, kid.” Chim said moving on to sit in the couch beside his while Hen moved to sit beside him. “We are family, heck you are practically my brother.”

“Chim’s right, Buckaroo. It’s okay to be not okay. We won’t think any less of you if you for it.” Hen added, laying a comforting hand on his shoulders.

“I’m seriously fine. I mean I’m not gonna lie and say it never affected me or that  it didn’t hurt. Because I did, years ago when first broke up, cause I really thought we were forever. But now? I’m not even sad or anything.”

“But if you are, you know that we are here for you, right?”

“I know that Bobby. And I appreciate it.” There was a prolonged silence that lingered for  a couple of minutes as they all just looking for words to say. Eventually Chimney, as always, broke that silence with a joking remark.

“Okay but seriously how did you land some one that hot?” Chim teased Buck.

“Chim seriously?! Your bi is showing.” Hen smirked. 

“What? I’m just saying that is one beast of a man. I’m just wondering what he saw in our Buck.”

“Hey, quit it hobbit,” Hen slapped her best friend in the arm, “Our Buck here is equally as beastly looking if not more.” 

“Hen, not that I don’t appreciate the vote of confidence because I truly do, but I don’t think ‘beastly’ is a look I aspire to project you know.”

“Joking aside, did you really go through SEAL training? Did you mean like BUD/s?” Chim asked, curious about Buck’s past but knowing the younger man would rather not talk about his soon-to-be ex-husband. At  Buck’s nod Chimney asked again, “Isn’t that only for Enlisted Navy?”

“You said you weren’t in the Navy.” Bobby added, confused.

“I wasn’t, I mean not really. I mean technically I was one but only for like less than 180 days? Which meant I got like an ELS.” Buck tried explaining, only garnering more confused looks. “Entry-Level Separation. I entered the program through SEAL Challenge Contract. I got through ‘Hell Week’ at BUD/s but I DOR’d a week after that. So it was like only give or take 155 days before I DOR’d. Which was why I don’t claim to be in the Navy because I barely was in it.”

“DOR?” Hen asked.

“Dropped on request. Clay I guessed heard about it when he was in SQT,” Buck started but had to clarify again, “er SEAL qualification training. Anyways, the instructors were about to shuffle me into the fleet as an enlisted sailor, which is usually what happens when a SEAL candidate drops out. But suddenly I got an offer that the brass would waive my Navy Enlistment contract if I would agree to work as a civilian linguistic analyst attached to a joint operation between the DOD and DEA that’s based in Chile. It was an unusual offer but I figured Clay’s father who’s a retired SEAL pulled some strings. I took the offer and spent four years bouncing around between bases in South America doing translation work.”

“Wait you said you bartender’d in South America, not Schneider’d you way through it.”

“What’s Schneider’d? And when did I say that?”

“Cocaine Wars,” Bobby said as if that alone explains it but of course Evan ‘as far as I’m concerned the world started when I was born’ Buckley didn’t get that reference, so Bobby had to explain further, “Schneider is the name of the actor who is an undercover DEA agent working in South America. And you told me when you were pulling that worm out of that guy who ate a lot of sushi.”

“I wasn’t an undercover agent, I only did translation work in a black site in South America but can’t actually say that in front of strangers so I said the first appropriate thing that came to mind.”

“Bartending is the first thing that came to mind?” 

“Well no not the very first thing... um stripping was actually but that seemed inappropriate too?” Buck said, scratching his head. At the incredulous looks he is getting from his team he defended,  “What?! Bartending is believable job I could have been doing. I mean Bobby did believe it.” 

“That’s not what--” Chim wanted to explain but was interrupted by the sound of the alarms going off. 

****

“You were awfully quiet after me telling you guys about Clay.” Buck said as soon as him and Eddie were left alone in the locker room. “You barely talked to me all day too. Is there a problem?”

“No.” Eddie replied, abrupt and clearly not wanting to talk about it but at seeing Buck’s pleading gaze, he relented, “Okay I admit I was a little upset because I thought by now we told each other everything. But then I get a slap in the face and realize I don’t know you at all. I mean I didn’t even tell me you were married.  Or that you ex-husband is a slimy squid.”

“I’m still technically married. And I believe military term is frogmen not squid.”

“Well maybe  in the Navy, in the Army they are slimy squids.” Eddie huffed.  “Seriously though, Buck. Why didn’t you tell me? I mean we talked about our exes before. You told me about Abby. You know about Shannon. Heck I even told you about Alex from boot camp. So I don’t know why you thought you couldn’t tell me about your ex-husband Clay.”

“It’s for the same reason you didn’t talk about your ex-wife back when I first asked you.”

“You asked me that before we got really close. And she’s not my ex-wife, she was my wife. There’s a difference.”

“Exactly, she wasn’t your ex-wife. Just like Clay isn’t my ex-husband. I didn’t talk about him like he is my ex because he isn’t.”

“You were separated, you said you didn’t see each other for six years.”

“I know that. I know in my head we are over and truly broken up,” Buck said while gesturing to his head then he laid his hand on his chest, “But here. Well here it’s stupid, because here there’s hope. So I didn’t talk about him like he’s my ex because then it would be like admitting that it’s truly over, no takebacksies over. I was over Clay but I guess I hadn’t reach that point where my heart’s willing to acknowledge it.”

“You dated a lot after him though, that’s like more than acknowledging it. That’s moving on.”

“It’s adapting a coping mechanism. An unhealthy one at that. I had a long list of one night stands because felt rejected and needed validation. Plus I like having sex but I was determined not to let anyone in again. Then I met Abby, who made me realize I crave intimacy not sex, she made me feel safe to love again, but she left before I could commit to loving her. Which was fortunate cause I don’t know how would get over it if she left me after I learned to love her.”

“I don’t think loving someone could be learned, Buck. Either you do, or you don’t.”

“Maybe so. But my point was I didn’t talk about him cause I thought I wasn’t over him yet. And I would have when I’m ready. I didn’t know when I just knew that talking about him before that would be like--”

“Like poking an open wound.” 

“Yes exactly like that.” Buck picked up that metaphor and expounded on it. “What I didn’t realize was that wound long scabbed over. And I left it thinking that if I picked on it, it would bleed again. Only to find out today that it’s all healed.”

“What was the kiss then?”

“The what?”

“The kiss I interrupted Buck.”

“I’m not sure but it felt like a goodbye.”

“I’m not an expert, Buck, but when he kissed you it looked more than just goodbye.” If Buck didn’t know better, he’d say Eddie sounded jealous as he said, “He’s all over you.”

“He isn’t. He kissed me but I’m telling you now, that kiss doesn’t feel like it meant anything to him. Or me. It’s not like what you think.”

“If you say so.” Eddie looked to Buck tryin g to see the truth in his eyes.

“I say so.” Buck said determined as held the other man’s gaze for a few moments, before looking away and shyly admitting, “Besides there is someone else I like.”

The words linger in the air between them as their eyes locked on to each other’s yet again; and slowly they gravitated towards each other without either knowing it. Their foreheads touched, nose brushing. The moment their lips brush, Buck felt the tingle in up his spine making him slightly weak in the knees. He held on to the older man’s waist to help himself stay upright. Eddie lifted his hand to caress the back of Buck’s head as he leaned in to deepen the kiss. Buck can’t help the moan the escaped his lips. And Eddie took that as an opportunity to slip his tongue and explore the younger man’s mouth.  If it was up to Eddie it would have gone further further but Buck pulled away.

“I’m not--” Buck shook his head, trying to clear it from the haze. “I like you but you were just widowed, and I still need to get divorced.”

“Okay, but just so you know this,” Eddie said gesturing at the air between them, “this is gonna happen. I’ll be asking you out as soon as you drop the name Spencer.”

“Not if I  asked you first.”

“Fair enough. As long as I get to eventually marry you, that’s fine.”

“Sure as long as you don’t expect me to take your name.”

“Maybe I’ll take yours instead. Edmundo Buckley has a nice ring to it don’t you think.”

“Yeah, definitely.” Buck managed to spat out with a straight face. They both look at each other in the eye before laughing out loud at the name.

Fuck Edmundo Buckley sounds ridiculous, maybe just this once Buck would take one for the team and take Eddie’s name anyway. Evan Diaz after all sounded way better. 

[misssophiachase]

For Klaroline Valentine’s Bingo - Speed Dating - After a crazy bet ten years earlier, Klaus and Caroline find themselves speed dating together. 

Secret Love Song

Klaus

He’d almost left about five times. After all, there was nothing worse than sitting by yourself in a room full of people.  

It was crazy, right? He’d told himself that so many times but yet here he was looking like a creepy desperado trying to pick up younger women in a college bar.

The Heights Harvard to be exact. The same bar he’d frequented while at law school. It had been about nine years since he’d last visited but the place still looked exactly how he remembered it. 

Klaus was currently a successful attorney in New York City, a partner at one of the top law firms. A feat unheard of for his age. His career accolades had buoyed him considerably but the continuous one night stands and the revolving door of women had left him somewhat empty. 

Just like she’d told him all those years ago in this very bar. 

He wanted to prove her wrong and not bother showing up but Klaus also knew that deep down he had an ulterior motive.  And that in itself scared the hell out of him.    

He tore at his beer label anxiously wondering if this was possibly the stupidest thing he’d ever done. Probably so if the violent swirling in his stomach was anything to go by. 

Klaus Mikaelson didn’t do nervous. 

Until right now. 

10 years earlier 

“Speed dating on Valentine’s Day, really?” Klaus wasn’t a fan of the Hallmark Holiday as it was but witnessing the room full of singles play musical chairs in the hopes of trying to find love was too much to stomach.

“If they want to speed date what business is it of yours, Mikaelson?” He knew that melodic but annoying voice without having to turn his head. 

“Who invited you, Forbes?” 

“It’s a free bar,” she shot back and Klaus could tell she was rolling those expressive but annoying blue orbs in his direction. “And it’s not my fault if my best friend, who happens to be your sister, and her boyfriend, who happens to be your best friend, invited me.”

“Lucky me,” he growled, his arm reaching for his date and pulling her towards him possessively almost as a shield against her usual animosity. “How about a drink, Chloe?”  

“My name is Amanda,” she scowled, her dark hair whipping around fiercely and grazing his cheek in the process. 

“Of course it is,” he mumbled, trying to come up with an excuse as to why he’d confused his current date with the one he’d had two days earlier. Or was it the girl from a week ago?

“I’d probably have a better chance of meeting a nice guy speed dating,” she hissed, standing up and stalking away. 

“What did you do this time, Nikalus?” Rebekah inquired, arching her left eyebrow curiously. 

“Just the usual,” Caroline chirped, obviously enjoying his frustration. “You really should come with a warning.” 

“There’s that cute banter we all love, it’s like we never left you twenty-four hours ago doing exactly the same thing,” Enzo offered, taking a seat beside Rebekah. 

“Oh please,” Klaus groaned. “Nothing stick-up-her-ass Forbes and I do is cute.”

“Yes, that would be rather difficult with man-whore Mikaelson here.” 

“It’s not cute, Lorenzo,” Rebekah agreed. “It’s outright nauseous.” 

“Here I was enjoying a date on my own and then the peanut gallery had to arrive and ruin it.”

“I think you were doing that all on your own, Niklaus,” Caroline mimicked. Klaus winced knowing she only did that to annoy him and it was working. “Why don’t you try your hand at some speed dating, it looks like it’s about to start.”

“Now that I would pay to see,” Rebekah chuckled. “Can we please get some popcorn to go with the show?” 

“Surely two minutes of Niklaus Mikaleson is enough to scare those poor, hopeful girls away.” Enzo teased, helping himself to the bowl of chips Klaus had paid for. He pulled them forcefully away from Enzo’s greedy grasp.  

“You three are bloody hilarious.” Klaus Mikaelson didn’t do relationships, let alone speed dating to eventuate in possibly being imprisoned in one. “I will never speed date as long as I live and that’s a promise. I’m not that desperate.”

“Maybe not now, but what about ten years down the track when you’re no longer mobbed by giggling, immature sycophants who don’t know any better?”

“I’ll be doing just fine, Forbes. Have you seen this face? Anyway, we can’t all be bitter shrews who haven’t been laid in forever.”

“Well, when the pool consists of asshats like you, Mikaelson, I’d take celibacy any day. In ten years' time, when I’m happily married this memory will be a blip on my college radar and you’ll still be sleeping with randoms pretending everything is fine and you’re not at all empty inside.”

“Oh really?” He asked, trying to ignore just how annoying but adorable she looked when she was being judgmental. 

“Really.”

“Fine, prove it,” he shot back, the confusion on her face evident. “We meet up here in ten years if life hasn’t turned out as perfectly as you seem to think it has.”

“For what exactly?” Klaus didn’t respond immediately, just gestured to the couples over the other side of the room.

“We speed date.”

“That’s crazy,” she replied, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re crazy.” 

“Yeah, even I think you’ve gone a little cuckoo, Niklaus,” Enzo shared.

“Scared?”

“What are we? Ten years old?” She scowled, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly.  

“If you believe the future is going to be as rosy as you say then surely there’s nothing to be afraid of? After all, it is just a little speed dating with yours truly.” 

“Fine,” she conceded, reluctantly taking the hand he offered. Klaus didn’t miss the bolt of electricity he felt and judging by her reaction she hadn’t either. 

Present Day - Caroline 

“I’m not going in, this is nuts,” Caroline said into the phone, noticing her sentence end with barely a squeak. 

“You made this bet, Caroline,” she insisted. “The least you could do is go through with it.”

Caroline rolled her eyes wondering why she thought calling Rebekah was a great idea. She was his sister after all.

Klaus had actually made the bet but yet here she was readying herself for that sexy but annoying smirk when she walked through the door. Her mind traveled back to ten years earlier wondering why she thought putting herself through this humiliation was such a great idea. 

No, she knew exactly why.

Life hadn’t turned out at all like she’d planned.

She assumed Klaus would show, he was still a prolific womanizer by all reports and he had nothing to lose from showing up. Caroline knew the only reason he would be there was to torment her mercilessly because her unrealistic visions of a husband, two kids, a Golden Retriever, and a white picket fence had failed to materialize. 

She’d cry if it wasn’t so pathetic.

Caroline knew she was a workaholic; it was the reason she was currently a well-respected news anchor in London. After interning at the Boston Globe after college, Caroline had taken an assignment as an international correspondent covering anything from war zones to royal weddings.

Her recent promotion to news anchor of the most highly rated breakfast program in the United Kingdom was the result of hard work and long hours. The combination making it practically impossible for a personal life.

Even though every fiber in her being was telling Caroline not to meet him, there was an underlying niggling that had pushed her halfway across the world.

“I should have never come,” she murmured, forgetting that she was talking to her best friend. “You know he’ll never let me live this down.”

“You needed to find out, Care,” Rebekah replied honestly.

“That’s easy for you to say,” she grumbled.

Her best friend had a perfect life, down to the four-legged canine (just replace the Golden Retriever with a Cavoodle named Sonny). Not that she begrudged Rebekah and Enzo for being the best married couple she knew, she just associated their nuptials three years earlier with the scene of a very messy crime.

“You do realize that the best day of my life was supposed to be about me right? Not you and my idiotic brother? I’m seven months pregnant, Care, and the way I see it you have two choices. You sort this mess out now so as not to overshadow the arrival of my firstborn or you risk ruining another life-altering moment with your indecision.”

“Wow, you really have that guilt thing down. I pity your future children.”

“Thank you but stop changing the subject.” Before Caroline could deflect like she usually would, her phone beeped signaling an incoming message.

“Oh, I have a message, gotta go BFF,” she replied chirpily before disconnecting. She was expecting a lead on her latest story so assumed that would be it.

You realize I can see you pacing outside, right Forbes?

Caroline closed her eyes momentarily, although she didn’t recognize the number she knew it was him. After the wedding, Caroline had changed her number thinking it was for the best. She certainly didn’t want to rehash events again or risk repeating them.

How did you get this number?

Why don’t you just come inside and I’ll tell you ; )

You are insufferable, Mikaelson. And since when do you use emojis?

Speed dating is about to start, wouldn’t want you to miss out.

I hate you.

Oh, there’s that unapologetic venom I’ve missed. A bet’s a bet, love.

Ten minutes later...

“Feeling a little less hostile now, sweetheart?” He asked, those annoying but disarming dimples making an unwanted appearance.

“Hostility and you go hand-in-hand, Mikaelson, I thought you’d know that by now,” she shot back. “Two tequila slammers are not nearly enough to numb the hostility.”

“Well, I couldn’t have you too drunk for speed dating, I mean what if you meet the one and you’re too inebriated to notice?”

“You can’t be serious? We are not speed dating.”

“I’m deathly serious, I even registered us before you arrived.”

“There’s that smug arrogance I haven’t missed. How did you know I’d even show up?”

“Besides you pacing outside the bar for fifteen minutes?” He asked, cocking his left eyebrow teasingly. “I assumed had you met the guy to go with the picket fence scenario I would have at least scored an invite to the wedding. I mean we certainly have a good track record when it comes to those sorts of events.”

“Unbelievable,” she scoffed. “I really shouldn’t be surprised that you are exactly the same immature guy from all those years ago.”  

“And you are still the same judgmental girl, it’s like we’ve been transported back in time.”

“Um, excuse me? Speed dating is about to start,” a nervous-looking guy approached them.

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Caroline smiled, feeling suddenly invigorated. “I can’t wait to find a guy who is loving, kind and obedient.”

“It’s not ‘find your pet dog’ speed dating, Forbes,” Klaus growled. “Although it doesn’t surprise me that you’d like someone who’ll quietly put up with your constant attitude.”

“Says the guy who’d prefer a woman not to talk at all, wouldn’t want it to interfere with all of the meaningless sex, right?”

They were both looking at the organizer now for some sort of response. He chose that moment to scurry far away from their argument obviously hoping that they wouldn’t follow.

Ten minutes later…

“So, Chip, you like exercising?” Caroline was seated at the corner table trying to ignore Klaus making eyes at his current speed date.

“It’s, Chad,” he offered, his gaze following her distracted one. “And yes, I suppose being a personal trainer means that I enjoy exercising.”

“You don’t say, what a coincidence,” she smiled, trying to regain her composure. Klaus Mikaelson always had the annoying way of distracting her.

“I told you that when I sat down,” he reiterated. The bell sounded and he stood up, Caroline couldn’t miss the relief cross his face. Well, she didn’t like him much anyway, too many obvious muscles.

“I’m Chelsea.”

“Of course you are,” Klaus replied, trying to work out whether Caroline liked the guy with all the muscles she was currently paired with across the room. Why did he need to wear such a tight shirt anyway?

“But you called me Caroline,” she insisted. Klaus couldn’t help it. Sure she was pretty enough but he really wished it was Caroline sitting across from him, even if she was annoying.

Ten minutes later…

“I love dogs too,” Caroline cooed. “It’s great to find someone who likes the same things.”

“Because he’s the only guy in the world who likes dogs,” Klaus joked sarcastically. They were now seated at adjacent tables, only two minutes away from their very own speed date.

To say they’d both been distracted would be an understatement and everyone in the room had noticed. “Would you please mind your own business? Scott and I are trying to have an adult conversation, something you would know nothing about.”

“Excuse me? I have no interest whatsoever in your boring conversation. Hannah and I were talking about our shared love of parasailing.”

“You realize he’s scared of heights, right Hannah?” Caroline shared. “I wouldn’t want you to get your hopes up about someone who’s obviously a compulsive liar.”

“Says the woman who lives in a dream world? Scott, don’t be fooled. You might both love dogs but she wants a Golden Retriever called Brinkley after the dog in You’ve Got Mail, that’s non-negotiable. Do you really want someone making decisions from bad movies for you?”

“It seems like you two know a lot about each other,” Hannah offered. “Maybe it’s time we switched, Scott?” He nodded in agreement and before they knew it, Klaus and Caroline were seated together.

“Way to ruin my speed date, Mikaelson,” she muttered, not bothering to look at him.

“You were doing that all on your own.”

“What are we doing here?” She huffed, finally raising her eyes to meet his. “We are both successful professionals who don’t need to speed date, especially at a college bar with people ten years younger.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, you were right,” he said, his fingers tapping nervously on the table. 

“Of course I’m right, we are too old for this,” she muttered. “I think the tequila has well and truly worn off.”

“No, I meant you were right ten years ago.” Caroline raised her eyebrows curiously, not expecting him to be so candid. Klaus Mikaelson didn’t do honesty easily. “I do feel empty.”

“I probably shouldn’t have said that,” she conceded. “I always have this way of speaking before I think.”

“You don’t say?” Klaus teased. “I don’t think I realized I actually felt that way until three years ago.”

“If you’re messing with me...”

“You and I both know that I don’t do vulnerable, Forbes. But yes, you annoy me a lot but for some reason I can’t stop thinking about you, about what happened between us.”

“Way to flatter me, Mikaelson,” she chuckled, despite the relative seriousness of the subject matter. “Sorry, I joke when I’m nervous.”

“Why are you here really?” He implored, those blue eyes boring into hers earnestly, surprising her. 

“Okay everyone, switch partners.” Caroline had barely noticed the bell let alone the fact an over-eager redhead was edging her way towards Klaus. 

“He’s taken,” she said, not meaning to sound quite so possessive.  

“Easy tiger,” he smiled seductively in her direction. “Best you keep moving darling, she can’t be held responsible for her actions.”

“You’re an ass,” she scoffed, once the redhead had moved for her own safety. “But as you so eloquently put it earlier, I don’t have the life I so naively envisaged all those years ago in this very bar.”

“And apparently I have the life you predicted for me,” he murmured, placing his hand over hers. “I meant what I said and I’m not here to say I told you so and I’m definitely not here to speed date,” Klaus said, warning away Caroline’s next speed date with his eyes. 

“So, why are you here exactly?”

“Because I love you, Caroline Forbes, so much sometimes it hurts,” he admitted, a slight blush crossing his cheeks. “I think I probably always have.”

“Well,” she grinned. “You’re lucky I happen to love you too but the golden retriever is non-negotiable, Mikaelson. So is making you watch You’ve Got Mail until you love it as much as me.”

“I’m willing to put up with Tom Hanks on repeat if it makes you happy, love,” he joked, placing a kiss on her hand. “But don’t think I won’t make you do things too.”

“How about we get out of here and you tell me exactly what you want me to do to you,” she purred, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek before dragging him from the bar. 

When Caroline and Klaus announced their engagement three short months later, Enzo and Rebekah promised their speed date would get a mention in the wedding speeches. 

They didn’t mind given it was how they finally got together and lived happily ever after with their two kids and a golden retriever named Brinkley. 

[jvlicns]

julian amante , twenty - three , cis male , THE TOWER .

amusing , candid , resourceful , petty , cataclysmic , arrogant.

first of all HELLO !! im z. 25 / she+her / pst. im thrilled to be here and honestly a little shocked ?? my app was a rushed MESS but im so happy the admins understood my nonsense !! 

this is going to be a lil long so pls bear w me. im going to break it down into sections and eventually make an entire bio , but this will do in the mean time !

connections are here , & my discord is zvvf#1885 ! 

* tw for mention of drugs & alcohol

. . .

TAROT ━

the tower represents chaos , destruction , & upheaval. this change is usually sudden & unexpected -- & not always good. the tower itself is a symbol of ambition , but in this card we see it built on faulty premises & false beliefs , all of which are no longer useful.

the ruin of the tower is inevitable -- necessary for growth & groundbreaking renewal. it’s time to break out of the old ways.

AESTHETICS ━

cracked asphalt , bloody knuckles , tangerine sunsets. the smell of freshly cut grass . still , slow mornings. a neat row of fire ants , climbing up your bedroom wall. broken stained glass , an overgrown field. tears of laughter , the only you’ll ever shed. 

money in a yellow envelope , guilt in your eyes , pressed flowers , a string quartet , corruption , loss of morals , student debt , a yellow light , darkness , hellfire.

THOUGHTS ━

" you’ve got your orders & that’s enough. you don’t know who’s telling you to throw your classmates off the scent , but you’re getting paid to do it. maybe your moral compass would stop you if you didn’t struggle so much in the financial department , but hey. you’re doing what you have to do to survive. if only you didn’t have to go against your better judgment for it. "

GENERAL ━

assigned to REYNOLDS house 

fourth year -- senior .

currently working at the corner store as a cashier .

scholarship student -- 2.3 average gpa .

athlete , st. cade’s lacrosse team .

BACKGROUND ━

grew up in a small town in arizona , in one of those unfinished suburbs that ran out of funding halfway through a government project to “ upgrade ” that was met with widespread disapproval. it’s all empty pools & dirt lawns , a patchwork neighborhood of old houses mixed in with the new. 

former golden boy who peaked in high school : star athlete , prom king , voted best smile. eternally toeing the line between CHAMPION  & DIRTBAG.

well - liked , but known for being something of a hell - raiser. out every night , hungover every morning. it was less obvious back then -- he could easily brush it off as simple youthful rebellion , rather than a real personality defect.

his first taste of alcohol was in seventh grade. a summer night , with the sun retiring for the day but leaving her kiss on the still - warm pavement. his world -- previously filled with sunday school , tense family dinners , & 24 hour marathons of professional passive aggression , was forever changed. finally , the boredom slipped away. & not just that ! this was actually FUN. 

but for someone with zero impulse control . . . a door opened , & he never managed to close it.

from a young age , his parents were always involved in the church. they attended every sunday , no excuses. 

this lapsed as the years passed & the amante family found it more & more unpleasant to be in the same room together , but his parent’s beliefs never wavered. religion was used as a weapon in their home -- to shame & guilt. they claimed love , preached tolerance. what they practiced , however , was the opposite. as he grew older , julian managed to weasel his way out of most of their theological outings. he gained some freedom , in addition to the ire of his family. their disappointment in him grew from a tiny acorn to a mighty oak.

his parents had their own issues , long before julian came along. a marriage between two irreconcilable people. the love they should have shared mutated into something twisted , something that they could give only to their son. it was enough for them to feed him , clothe him , & put a roof over his head. anything else was simply asking too much. 

despite coming from a low - income family , things have never been particularly DIFFICULT for him. sure , they struggled. he’s lost count of the times the power got shut off , or the water. but julian was the type of kid who could charm teachers into bumping his grade up to a 71% , despite the dozens of half - finished assignments & failed tests. he didn’t really have to try -- they just wanted to help him. ( pity , perhaps ? he turns a blind eye )

he coasted through school. one of those natural athletes that coaches & admin treat like celebrities , focusing all their attention on a teenager they have high hopes for. higher hopes than he had for himself , in fact. 

julian never had dreams , not a plan for his future. all that stubborn arrogance fooled them : he’s spent the better part of the past seven years stalling. cutting corners & taking shortcuts , desperately avoiding reality.

he never expected to even leave his hometown , let along attend a prestigious college on a full ride lacrosse scholarship. somehow , he played enough games & passed enough classes to qualify for an opportunity that would pluck him from his sad , tragic storyline & deposit him on a shiny path to success. a fresh start. 

he didn’t want to go. fought endlessly about it with his parents , his friends , himself. his place wasn’t at some hoity - toity school , surrounded by do - gooders & the conscientious. julian may have a knack for delusion , for spinning a story that suits him in whatever moment is passing. but he’s smart enough knows what his future holds : drinking himself to an early death in the very house he was born in. you can’t fight fate -- but you can surely postpone it.

in the end , it’s the boredom that convinces him. he’s said & done just about everything he can here , exhausted all the options he cares to consider. made plenty of enemies , as well as friends. built & burnt bridges. 

the expectation of his teachers , his parents , were choking him. it’s foolish to think that this might be the way out – he’ll never change. but why not have some fun , while he’s still here ?

st.cade’s was a treasure trove for julian , filled with endless opportunities to amuse himself. despite his placement in reynold’s house & the mandatory church shit ( a part of his scholarship’s stipulations ) , it hasn’t been bad. another social scene for him to invade , conquests to be had , fights to provoke. the first few years were amazing : an intoxicated blur of his own little slice of this world. 

he lives in the moment , greedily gathering every experience he can. nodding off in class , smoking behind the greenhouse , collecting all the free alcohol he manages to sniff out.

he’s learned this : a loud laugh & bravado can get you far. but now , his actions have finally caught up with him. the school is threatening to terminate his scholarship , to pack up his bags & send him on the first train home. & while he has no idea what to do , he knows he can’t go back. god , no. 

even without what’s keeping him – the enticing mystery of helena’s disappearance , his friends , his freedom. he just can’t stand to go in reverse ; it would mean facing the consequences of every mistake he’s ever made ( & there are quite a few ! ) 

he’s a shark – he has to keep moving. 

that first letter came soon after the school - wide assembly. small , neat type. direct. there was no mincing words , the sender made it perfectly clear : this is his only option. if he wants to maintain this lifestyle , this is the way. so he burns the letters , following their instructions. almost relieved to be given direction. it’s a respite in the current disarray – something he used to enjoy , but now just feels exhausting. he’s the band , humming away as the titanic sinks. not my business , he thinks. but he’ll drown all the same.

PERSONALITY ━

he’s an asshole but a F U N asshole -- that makes it palatable , right ?? 

not a dumbass , but the lack of impulse control + arrogance could have fooled me ! his intelligence is only hinted at , invisible unless you’re looking : reciting keats from memory , listing off all 79 of jupiter’s moons. remnants of past & fleeting obsessions.

 has to actively undermine his own common sense -- for the laughs , of course !

selfish ; his needs & wants come before anyone else’s. a childish habit , yes , but one he’s been unable to break. ( not that he’s tried )

vacillates between aloof & dramatic. you can count on him to stir some shit up -- he adores chaos & just can’t keep his mouth shut. petty , to a fault.

he’s hot - shit & he knows it ; well aware of his pretty face & statuesque build. julian’s never been afraid of using it to his advantage , or even just reminding anyone around him of just how cute he is. ( listen up 5′s , a 10 is speaking ! )

 has a strong aversion to authority. “ don’t tell me what to do ! ” . . . * quietly takes your advice when you’re not looking * . . .

the good parts of him are buried deep. his loyalty , his gentleness. a warm heart that can easily empathize , but chooses not to. julians pursuit of superficial gratification blinds him , warping his reflection like a funhouse mirror.

aggressive & unrelenting. this could be channeled into something of a work ethic , if he cared enough. instead , he uses it to get what he wants. whatever that might be.

curious as a cat with nine lives , he won’t hesitate to ask the question everyone’s thinking. that bluntness is almost appealing , as long as it’s not directed at you. this makes him somewhat of a good listener , even if he’s only paying attention to satisfy his own nosiness. 

he’ll literally fight for the ones he loves. there aren’t many of them , but the sentiment stands. years of sports have taught him the value of teamwork , & he has yet to shake it. once you endear yourself to him , there’s no going back.

despite everything , julian manages to be a charismatic little firebrand. he’ll guarantee a good time , he just won’t help clean up the mess.

FUN FACTS ━

can fit his entire fist in his mouth

has The Loudest Sneeze Of All Time

once bit into an apple n saw a WORM inside so now he hates apples w a passion

right handed , but taught himself to be ambidextrous during the summer between fifth & sixth grade

promptly forgot he was ambidextrous & never uses his left hand

has surprisingly neat handwriting

can fall asleep ANYWHERE

likes country music ( will never admit it , tho )

his mother used to read him poetry , so he’s lowkey Very Into It

can’t carry a tune for shit , & his impressions are a w f u l. his british accent is just a cheap dick van dyke imitation , & his australian accent is what the british one SHOULD be

[haildoodles-writing]

Where the Sky Meets the Sea - Prologue 

A Detroit: Become Human fic. AO3

Summary:  It’s been nearly a year since the deviant uprising--since Markus and his followers protested peacefully for android rights and deviancy spread like a wild virus. Rose Huggins, an old friend of Hank Anderson, had helped along the sidelines, quietly doing all she could to aid the newly established people. And after months of hard work on both sides, androids and humans found some semblance of peace . . . 

But when sporadic disappearances occur and strange evidence begins to show up at the DCPD, everything is flipped on its head.  And Rose, for better or for worse, will be its turning point.

Word Count: 3758

Pairing: Connor (RK800) x OFC

CHAPTER WARNING: Content in this chapter deals with some elements of domestic abuse, and thus may be triggering to some readers. If you or a loved one are experiencing any sort of domestic abuse, please do not hesitate to reach out to those who can help and offer support. We are here for you, and we love you. 

A/N: Welcome to WTSMTS, aka the dbh fic I’ve been planning on making for an eternity. I honestly don’t know how people will take this fic, and if it’ll even gain traction at all, but it doesn’t matter--I’ve been having fun making it, and I wanted to share it with you anyways! Enjoy <3

* * *

Rose Huggins had been feeling like she was being watched. 

Lately, it had been as if the hairs on the back of her neck and the goosebumps on her arms knew something she didn’t--especially at night. She didn’t know why. 

Taking the backroads, though sometimes revolting, proved to be a much faster method at getting home in the evenings. And so after her shift at Jimmy’s Bar or the rundown Thai restaurant next door, Rose would slip through the back and onto the garbage-ridden alleys, avoiding the main streets completely. 

Sure, it was unnerving, and she used to jump at any rat crossing near her feet or trash bag shifting in the breeze. But after two years into working both jobs, she came to learn that the dreary atmosphere was better than being late. She had a dull ache in her pinkie finger and an Urgent Care visit on her record to prove for that. 

That night, a regular from Jimmy’s had slipped out the door behind her and managed to catch her off guard. He had drunkenly stumbled after her for the past few blocks, somehow keeping track of her despite his twisted footing. And the comments he threw at her, at the bystanders, at the world in general--

It was safe to say that Rose wanted to vomit. 

Had it been early enough into the night, she would have sprinted to the train station and avoided him altogether. But it was too late by now, and she didn’t have the cash for a cab, so had to resort to simply keep him at a safe distance as she led him away from her home. At least he was too drunk to notice she was practically hugging the main roads. 

Rose had managed to lose him for good when she finally calmed. Her clutch on her keys loosened enough to swing back and forth—she was back on track to the house now; maybe a few minutes away. Close enough to see the DCPD lights and parked police cars near the main road. If she had time, she could have possibly stopped by, perhaps say hello to Hank Anderson and Gavin Reed—likely still there at this hour— and maybe string enough words together to have a conversation with Connor. 

Connor, who had shown up a year ago to catch deviating androids, only to become a deviant himself. Connor, who practically became Hank’s own son after the revolution calmed down enough. Connor, who made her throat constrict and her chest feel like it was going to collapse every time she saw him. 

The thought of seeing them--seeing him--was tempting, and she slowed to a halt at the steps of the DCPD. But then her pinky ached again, as if a steady reminder, and she decided that stopping by wouldn’t be the best idea. So she hurried home, ignoring the buzzing phone in her back pocket and the omnipresent feeling that she was being watched. 

But no matter how much the back of her neck itched and how many creaks and shuffles sounded right behind her, she never found anything. Only the wind, and the snow, and the distant sounds of Detroit.

She managed to reach the townhouse safely, climbing up the steps and twisting the key into the lock before noticing that the door was already slightly ajar. 

It was strange--her father always bolted up, even when he was home. He was always paranoid.

But the television was blasting from inside and kitchen lights were on, so Rose knew her father was there, at least. 

So she cracked open the door and slipped through, careful to avoid the street lights shining into the doorway. 

“You’re late,” a voice sounded from the couch. Harsh and gravelly, as if sifting through cobbled dirt. Something stirred in the pit of Rose’s stomach, twisting, but she snuffed it out without thinking twice. 

“Sorry, Father. Work kept me a little bit later than usual,” she lied through her teeth, pulling her shoes off and placing them neatly in her corner. And then she headed directly for the kitchen, pulling open the fridge and grabbing a can of beer from the bottom shelf. 

“Well tell your work to piss off next time, Rosy,” her father grumbled. But then he heard the beer top opening and huffed, leaning further into the couch and holding a waiting hand out. 

Her chest seized at every can she gave him, every bottle he demanded with an open hand. But it was usually only at night--and he stopped talking, at least. Stopped berating her, for just a moment longer. Better drunk and incapacitated on the couch than drunk and throwing things. 

Or drunk, and missing. That was the worst one. 

Her father took the can and inspected it, slandering the brand name. “Why’d you have to get this one, Rosy? You know better,” he snapped, even though he already had a few of the same cans empty around his lap. Either way, he was the one who had bought it—or had stolen; she didn’t really know how he got his supply anymore. All she knew is that she never bought anything herself. 

“I’m sorry,” she said anyway. 

He merely grunted and sipped from it, ignoring her completely. She dropped her hand from the back of the couch, a breath escaping her—but then fingers shot out and gripped her wrist, squeezing. It was nothing she couldn’t handle — but his thumb was pressing on a bruise through her shirt sleeve, and it made her breath catch. 

He squeezed for a moment longer, sighing. “Clean this mess up,” was all he ended up saying, releasing her wrist to gesture to the pile of trash he sat in. But then he fell silent, and Rose nodded, leaving him to float between realities for a while. 

She crept upstairs, head low until she reached her room at the end of the hallway. Her chest heaved out a sigh, her shoulders dropping as she walked into the bedroom. 

And as she changed into her painting clothes and prepped her easel and paints in the corner of the room, and as she painted until she could finally feel, Rose longed for something other than this life she had put herself in. 

*  *  *

Whenever a case of his wasn’t improving, Gavin Reed became one of the usuals at Jimmy’s Bar. 

When she first met him over a year ago, Rose constantly had to fight the twinge of annoyance every time he chatted her up. She had to bite her tongue to keep from huffing when he would vent about androids, of all creatures, infiltrating the DCPD. But then, through his arrogance and ranting, he would sometimes pause. He would ask her about her day, about what she did, and genuinely seem interested in it. Something not a lot of people did that often. 

So she would withstand his . . . Gavin-ness, every time he came in. If only for those small moments that he acted like a decent human being. 

Today, though, didn’t seem like it was a good day for him—if the way he stormed in fuming said anything, at least. 

He ignored Rose for a minute as she started making his regular, fists clenched against the table and head bowed. From what she could see, every word in the dictionary was spewing from his mouth. 

Eventually though, after Rose was finished helping a few others, Gavin lifted his head. A fresh bruise adorned his cheek. 

“Bad day?” Rose asked quietly, raising a brow as she set a glass of whiskey in front of him. Neat, as he liked it. 

Gavin sighed, downing the glass before pausing. “Got no idea, sweetheart.” He signaled to bring more, so she poured him a double rye. 

“Let me guess,” Rose said. “Nines?” 

If she had brought up androids six months ago, Gavin would’ve spewed expletives and cursed androids--usually one specific Connor--until her ears bled. But then he was assigned a new partner, Nines, Connor’s prototype successor, and he  . . . well, cooled. He wasn’t necessarily nice to Connor, by all means, but he grew comfortable with Nines and his ever-present company.

Though Gavin would never actually admit it.

Gavin pointed at Rose and clicked his tongue, before collapsing in on himself again. “I think he’s turning into a housecat,” he said. “He never leaves--” 

Rose looked around, nodding to the Nines-less bar.

“He’s outside,” Gavin muttered. At that, Rose outright laughed.

She sobered herself enough to shoot him a look. “That’s not new, though,” she pointed out. And it was true--Gavin often complained about Nines trailing after him constantly, both in and outside of work. Some sort of annoying guardian, he had said. But it wasn’t something Rose hadn’t heard of before--no, something else was bothering him. Something that made him much more sour than normal.

Gavin gave a thousand-mile stare past Rose’s shoulder. “There’s another one.” 

Another android--at the station, she guessed.

That would be . . . three then, working at the DCPD. Connor, and then Nines—and now another one, evidently. 

Another RK model, she presumed. 

By how hard Gavin was clenching the glass in his hands, she knew she was right. Another “Connor” walking around in the precinct; another “Connor” for him to get used to. 

It was nearly a year after the uprising, and Gavin wasn’t cold towards androids any longer--but he wasn’t exactly warm, either. 

“Well, at least you get a break for now, right?” Rose tried to lighten up the mood, offering him another drink. He took it without thinking twice. 

But then Gavin bit down, a muscle flickering in his jaw, and ground out, “Not for long.” 

Rose was nearly about to question him before the doorbell jingled, two silhouettes slipping through the doorway.  

And then Hank and Connor appeared in the dim lighting, Hank calling out a “Hey, kid,” and Connor giving a polite wave. Rose smiled in return, trying to level her breathing at seeing Connor--it had been a while, anyway.

In front of her, Gavin clenched his hand around the glass even tighter — if that was even possible, at this point. He stared at her arm, heaving a deep sigh. 

“Well, if it isn’t Hank and the tin can,” Gavin slurred, seemingly more exhausted than miffed. At least he wasn’t biting; Rose wasn’t in the mood to break up a fight tonight.

Even though Hank and Connor weren’t affected by him—in fact, Hank seemed amused at his ex-protege—Rose still cringed at the nickname. 

Connor, unperturbed, greeted them. “Hello, Detective Reed,” was all he said before turning to Rose, stepping around Gavin. “Hello, Rosalind.” 

“Rose,” she corrected him, still smiling and ignoring Gavin’s visible irritation. No one ever called her Rosalind, save her own mother. And that was nearly a decade ago. 

Hank scoffed, throwing a hand against Connor’s shoulder. “You don’t have to be so professional during work. I mean, how many times does she have to tell you, kid? It’s been like, what—a year?” 

Connor didn’t have to pause. “Ten months, twenty-three days, fifteen hours and forty-four minutes.” 

He said it so bluntly that Rose choked on a laugh, her stomach fluttering. 

At the sound of Rose’s giggle, Gavin unfroze, stepping between the three of them. “Hank, we’re off the clock today. Get him out.” 

Hank began to step forward and open his mouth, but Connor cut him off. “We just need to ask Rose some questions for a recent case.” 

Deviancy had done Connor well, and emotions began to lace his words—his expressions, his stance, everything. But still, in the moment, Connor composed himself enough to seem nonchalant about Gavin’s presence. Enough to annoy Gavin further. 

Hank had bet money that Gavin was just bitter about getting knocked out by Connor two punches in back in the evidence room, nearly a year ago. But Rose often thought it was something else, though.

Gavin looked back at Rose, gauging her reaction. “Fine,” he shrugged. And then he yanked out his wallet and handed Rose a handful of cash, reaching for his remaining glass and downing it with a grunt. Then he winked at Rose, clicking his tongue. “You tell me if these runts give you trouble, yeah?” 

If she was being honest with herself, Rose was impressed. Gavin, with alcohol in his system, not starting a fight? It was nearly unheard of. 

She bit her lip and nodded, satisfying Gavin enough. “Good luck, sweetheart,” he called, stepping around Hank and slapping a hand on Connor’s shoulder. 

And then he was gone, the doorbell signaling he had stepped into the night. 

Rose sighed, throwing a curl from her braid loose with a shake of her head. “I’m sorry,” she told them both. 

Hank scoffed as he took a seat at the bar, patting the seat next to him for Connor. “Don’t know what you need to be apologizing for, Squid.” 

Squid--a name Cole, his son, used to call her when she babysat him. Before he passed, Rose would walk to Hank’s house whenever he was called in and take care of Cole for years. And whether it was in the dead of night or at midday, she would come with the hand-sewn squid Cole loved. 

She still had that little stuffed squid on her nightstand. 

Rose smiled at Hank’s comment, rolling her eyes playfully. After checking on the other customers, she went to offer Hank his usual, opening her mouth to speak — but then Connor shot out a hand beside him, nearly brushing her own fingers against the table. 

“He won’t be drinking tonight,” Connor said. Rose raised an eyebrow.

A noise sounded in Hank’s throat, but then he swallowed it. Evidently, by the look Connor gave him, they had already discussed the matter. 

“I tried,” Hank shrugged—and then sighed at Rose’s raised brows. “Only drinking on weekends, now.” 

Apparently, Connor’s passing comments of them “working things out” with Hank’s drinking habits had proven true. Hank had seemed more sober lately, anyway. It was a nice improvement.

Rose grinned, genuinely happy for him. But, nonetheless, “So I won’t be seeing you around here that often, then?” 

Hank nodded. “Yeah, thanks to this kid,”—he grabbed Connor’s shoulder again, and a smile pulled at both of their mouths. “But Sumo needs more lovin’, if you ever wanna come over to watch him while we’re out.” 

At the mention of the old dog, Rose nodded enthusiastically. Hank only lived a few streets down from her, anyway, right by the docks—and the precious ball of fluff always needed more love. 

Connor’s face went soft at the mention of Sumo, his eyes taking in Rose’s giddy expression with an odd look on his face. But then his LED quickly flashed yellow, and his face dropped.

“We came here to ask you something, Rose,” Connor said. And Hank, with the conversation having been steered back on track, grew somber. 

“Yeah, Squid. We, ah . . .” Hank heaved a sigh, tapping his fingers on the table. Avoiding having to talk, most likely—which made Rose’s chest seize a bit. 

When they asked Rose for information before, there was no hesitation to their questions. What was making Hank so quiet this time? 

Rose watched a customer a few stools down drop some cash on the table as he exited and stepped over to him, collecting the change and grabbing the empty glasses before she turned to Connor and Hank completely. 

“Well,” Hank continued, “we know a lot passes around through here, and we know you hear everything. . .” — which was true. Rose knew almost as many people as Hank did, having grown up in the outskirts of Detroit, and word tended to travel fast through tipsy mouths. 

But this had already been established. At this point, Hank was stalling. 

Likely sensing her unease, Connor’s LED flashed as he eyed her. He moved his hand to rest on top of hers, to soothe her. 

If he noticed how her heartbeat sped up instead, he didn’t mention it. 

“We need to know if you’ve been experiencing anything strange lately,” he said, and Rose’s heart rate immediately died down. “We . . . we have reason to believe that you are being followed.” 

Rose froze completely, her jaw going slack. Her mind flicking to every instance the hair on her neck raised, every fleeing form she witnessed that somehow always behind her . . .

More than once recently, she had felt eyes on her. Watching. Waiting, silent, as she walked down the streets of Detroit. 

Rose had thought it was her mere imagination. 

“Yes,” Rose eventually blurted out, eyeing Connor’s hand. “I mean, no, I haven’t seen anyone, or heard anything. But . . .” A curl fell against her cheek as she tilted her head. 

Eyes scrunching, Hank spoke up. “You think you’re being followed, kiddo?” 

It took everything in her to force the words out--They’re cops, she reminded herself. They have to know this stuff. 

“Yeah,” she admitted. “I . . . Sometimes a couple drunks stalk me, but only for a few minutes before giving up. But lately, I’ve been feeling like someone’s been watching me--the entire way home.” But then she shrugged, brushing it off. “But I haven’t spotted anyone, so it may be nothing.” 

Connor tilted his head as his LED spun. “Human minds can pick up on subtle cues outside of their direct field of vision and not be completely aware of it,” he blurted. “You may be noticing someone’s gaze without actually seeing it. There is a chance your brain may be sending false alarms, but it’s still better to be cautious.”

Taking in the information, Rose’s eyes fell to Hank. “Why?” she asked. “I mean, what’s making you think I’m being followed?” 

At that moment, Jimmy himself walked through the front door, the bell jingling and throwing Rose out of her thoughts. Her shift was up. 

Hank clenched his jaw for a moment, considering. 

It was Connor that spoke up in the silence. “We received photographs at the precinct the other day,” he breathed, lowering his voice. “Candid photos of people around the city.” 

“And you were the main one,” Hank muttered. His eyes were cloudy, his face somber. 

Rose felt her blood run cold. 

From behind her, Jimmy clasped Rose on the shoulder and nodded to Hank in greeting. “I’ll take it from here,” he said. “You’re good to head on home.” 

She didn’t move. She couldn’t, not when someone was taking pictures of her, following her, for some unknown reason--

“I’ll walk you home,” Connor spoke up, retracting his hand from hers and sliding off the bar stool. “Hank needs to finish up at the precinct, but I can stay with you.” In response, Hank nodded. 

Rose let out a sigh of relief and nodded. 

And so they left her to gather her things, Hank squeezing her forearm in a gentle farewell and Connor standing politely at the exitway. His LED didn’t stray from blue, even when he and Rose stepped into the winter night and the chill took over. Always bright, always flickering. 

She wondered why he never decided to take it out. 

For a few minutes, neither of them spoke, and Connor let Rose take the lead as he processed everything around them. Looking for clues, most likely. 

But then she couldn’t stand the silence anymore, and she spoke up. “I heard there’s another RK model at the precinct,” she said, eyeing him as he glanced around through the snow. At her comment, his eyes flicked to her and he smiled, polite and cheerful. 

Her stomach flipped again. 

“His name is Corvus,” he said as they rounded another corner. “He’s my successor by three models--and he’s the last one, evidently.”

“The last one?” She thought there were more--there were around ten Connor models made, right?

“After the deviant uprising, CyberLife gave orders for every active RK unit to return to the Tower and be deactivated. The rest of my successors, save Nines, were all destroyed.” His voice was soft, quiet, and Rose noticed that he was rubbing his hands together--a nervous habit, she realized. Something he developed after the uprising.

Without thinking, Rose tugged on one of his hands and intertwined her fingers with his. For a second, his LED flashed--but then it faded back into its constant, soothing blue. She felt his hand squeeze back, if only for a moment, before she released her hold. 

“Except Corvus,” she responded, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

He nodded. “He was already deviated from his time at the Salt Lake City Police Department, and he came to Detroit a few days ago.” 

“To meet you?” 

Connor’s lip twitched. “To meet Markus.” 

Oh. She should have assumed. 

The tension between Markus and the general public had slowly settled over time, leaving Markus the ability to establish a community for deviants, just north of Detroit. It seemed that deviants were still flocking to him, even now.  

“I think you’d like him,” he mused. 

Rose was about to comment more--but then his LED sputtered into yellow, and he returned his attention to his surroundings as he processed. Looking for hints again--even though, oddly enough, there were none. 

She stifled the nagging thought, that doubt that she had ever seen anything at all. Maybe it was just her mind playing tricks on her--Connor had brought up that idea as an option, anyway.

She remained quiet as Connor processed everything, completely content with just his company until they reached the front steps of the townhouse. This time, it was late enough that she was sure her father was asleep--something that made her heave a sigh of relief. 

Connor remained on the sidewalk as Rose slowly climbed the steps, her feet nearly dragging.  “Thank you,” she murmured, turning on her heel to face him. In return, Connor bowed his head. 

For a moment, he said nothing, simply staring at her with an odd look on his face. But then his LED blinked all over again, and his expression slowly faded. 

“Let me know if you ever need anything, Rose,” he said, so sincerely that her chest warmed. She nearly grinned at the way he said her name. 

But she didn’t trust herself to speak, so she nodded, turning to unlock the door and slipping in with a small wave of farewell. 

He called for her before she could close the door.  “Come to the precinct tomorrow, during Hank’s break,” he requested. It was likely to meet Corvus, and she faltered a little at the idea of seeing Connor’s face on someone else--but it was he who asked her, and she couldn’t say no.

“Okay,” she said. “Tomorrow.”

Connor’s responding grin made her laugh. 

* * *

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