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oneheda · 4 days ago

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hello !! may i ask a neteyam fic wherein nete has been trying to win the reader's (s/o) affection again for days and reader just saying "hmp" or ignoring him because of something that he did that made her feel upset :-P silly && comfort pls! :3c

THE RISK. | ➶ neteyam sully

── .✦ a: ONE-SHOT

w.c: 3.9k

pairing: neteyam x fem!na’vi!reader (aged up characters for plot purposes!)

story description: ever since olo'eyktan training cruelly took away a significant amount of time with you, neteyam has been desperately trying to win back your warmth and affection after he’s met with cold steel from your hurt. his longing for your touch and care only deepened from within as time and your silent resentment—a reflection of the quiet yearning that had you undoubtedly tethered to him—had kept you two apart.

contains: established relationship, slight angst that ends with silly fluff (lots!) <3, or otherwise known as hurt/comfort, teyam’ gifting you tons of flowers, him being obsessed with you, calling you yawne a lot, you guys’ chasing each other, falling into a river, being wet (oh.) and in love!!

warning(s): quite suggestive towards the end, but still very PG! 😏

a/n: omg this request is soooo cute and such an imaginable trope for neteyam, given that we all know if he stayed in omatikaya he’d be so busy training for olo’eyktan likeeee? i’ve read so many one-shots with the reader being mad at him before, and him making up for it, and i loved every single one. so, i’m so excited to try this one out in my writing style and mind! +while planning this i kept thinking about—what would you as his omatikayan lover be like? wouldn’t you be hesitant about falling too deep in love with him, knowing you’d miss his busy ahh sooo bad because he’s away like almost all the time? isn’t that risky? seriously, kudos to all those who take that risk IRL fr. ✊🏻

It started with flowers. Not just one or two, but a small, growing pile of them. Each time you turned around, there’d be another tucked behind your ear, balanced on your hammock, woven into a little bracelet left near your food.

Neteyam had been relentless in his attempts to win back your affection over the past few days. It wasn’t as though you didn’t love him because you did, with every fiber of your being. But you were still upset about the argument you’d had earlier in the week. The argument arose from the widening distance between you, a gap carved by the relentless demands of his role as the future Olo’eyktan. You nodded as he explained, telling him you understood—because you truly did. Every decision he made was for the good of the clan, for a future that included you, too. But understanding didn’t soften the ache in your chest. It didn’t quiet the longing for the moments that used to be yours alone.

You didn’t want to seem selfish, didn’t want to feel like a burden, like someone relegated to the edges of his life. But how could you not yearn for him when he was the very heart of your own?

You didn’t need grand gestures or impossible promised, just to feel like you mattered, like the bond you shared wasn’t something easily pushed aside. It wasn’t too much to hope for, was it? If it was, he shouldn’t have assured you that time would always find a way to make room for the two of you.

He shouldn’t have told you he could love you without limits.

Still, you weren’t angry, just quietly hurt. So, you let him sit with the weight of your silence for a little while longer, unsure if he truly understood how deeply you longed for his presence. If he cared, he would be honest. He would decide whether he could meet you where you stood or not.

And Neteyam, true to form, was determined to make the effort.

At communal dinner, he hovered like a shadow, his golden eyes constantly flicking toward you. You pretended not to notice, focusing instead on your food, the stars overhead, and occasionally the random crack in the floor. Anywhere but his face. Neteyam, however, was not easily giving in. With a deep breath, he reached over, gently prying your hands apart from where they were clasped in your lap. His large, warm palms enveloped yours, his thumbs brushing softly against your skin. You stiffened but didn’t pull away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of melting under his touch.

“Yawne (beloved),” he whispered, voice low enough that only you could hear over the chatter of the gathering. His brows knit together in concern. “Are you still upset? I’m sorry, okay? I’ll make it right. Just give me time for a few weeks.”

But your only response was a soft huff as you turned your attention to your plate. His ears drooped slightly, and his shoulders sagged, but he didn’t give up.

Neteyam had taken to foraging during his hunting trips, returning with blooms in every color he could find. Each one seemed chosen with care, as if he had combed through Pandora’s vast forest just to find the perfect match for you. This morning, you found a particularly delicate one—a deep blue petal with flecks of gold, so soft it felt like velvet—waiting for you beside your water. Its placement wasn’t accidental; he’d laid it carefully, as though it were a gift meant to soothe whatever rift had come between you.

“Do you like it?” His voice, deep and warm, came from behind you, startling you slightly.

You turned, fingers curling instinctively around the flower. He was leaning casually against a tree, his bow slung over his shoulder and his skin dappled in the soft morning light. He looked relaxed, but his twitching ears and the slight shift in his tail gave him away.

You rolled the flower between your fingers, trying not to let your heart leap at the sight of him. “It’s pretty.” Your voice was nonchalant, almost dismissive, but your gaze lingered on him for a moment too long.

He smiled, slow and knowing, but didn’t press further. Instead, he stepped closer, his shadow falling over you. “Pretty, huh?” he murmured, his tone teasing but soft. “Just pretty? I thought it was beautiful. Like you.”

You scoffed lightly, a weak attempt to mask the heat rising in your cheeks. “Is that what you’re doing now? Comparing me to flowers?”

Neteyam tilted his head, a playful glint in his golden eyes. “Only the rarest ones.” His voice dropped just slightly, and the way he looked at you made your stomach flip.

You tried to turn your attention back to the flower, but his presence was impossible to ignore. He crouched in front of you, his movements unhurried and fluid, and his hand reached out to tilt your chin up gently.

“You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “I don’t just bring these to make you smile. I bring them because I want you to know I think of you. Always. Even when I’m away.”

For once, you didn’t have a clever reply. And he smiled, small and boyish, as if your mere attention was like handing him all the stars in the sky. “You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered. “I already know.”

That night, during the clan’s celebration, you spotted him at the edge of the gathering. The music swelled, and instead of joining the other warriors in the dance, Neteyam was there, balancing precariously on a low branch. His arms flailed dramatically, as though he were imitating a bird taking flight.

You cocked an eyebrow and took a few slow steps toward him. “Is this what future Olo’eyktan training looks like? Because if it is, we’re doomed.”

He turned sharply at the sound of your voice, pretending to wobble before hopping down with an exaggerated flourish, landing directly in front of you. His grin was wide and unapologetic.

“I’m trying to make you laugh,” he admitted shamelessly, his amber eyes bright. “I’ve missed your laugh, yawne.”

You tried to hold firm, but when he clumsily twirled and struck a ridiculous pose, your laughter broke free. He straightened, a little victorious puff to his chest.

“There it is,” he teased gently, his chest still puffed out with mock pride. “I knew it was still in there.”

Your resolve cracked, but you still rolled your eyes for good measure. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re worth it,” he said without hesitation, so sincere and immediate that it caught you off guard. He extended his hand toward you, palm up to offer you a dance but he didn’t push. He just waited, his presence steady and patient.

“I’m still mad at you, you know,” you muttered, more for yourself than for him. You didn’t move, but your fingers tightened slightly around your forearms.

“I know,” he said gently, his voice low enough that only you could hear it over the celebration. “And I’ll keep earning back every bit of you until you’re not.”

For a moment, you hesitated, your heart warring with your pride. Slowly, your arms loosened, and though you didn’t take his hand, you let it rest there between you, a quiet truce in the making.

“Said you’d earn it back, huh?” The teasing tone in your voice had a sharp edge, and you couldn’t help the way it made his eyes sparkle with mischief. He tilted his head, a playful glint in his gaze, as if trying to predict your next move. “Then prove it.”

Without another word, you turned on your heel and dashed into the back of the forest, heart pounding with the rush of adrenaline. The sounds of the celebration faded behind you, replaced by the rustling of leaves beneath your feet. You couldn’t suppress the laugh that bubbled up from your chest as you glanced back over your shoulder. “Catch me if you can!”

His reaction was instant, his own laugh ringing out through the air as his long legs carried him quickly in pursuit. Neteyam’s voice came, warm with determination, but also with a clear, boyish excitement. “Oh, you know I will.”

You risked another glance behind you and saw him gaining, the playful smirk on his lips matching the wild spark in his eyes like a predator closing in on its prey. The challenge, the thrill. It was all there in his gaze.

You’d darted across the massive branch that spanned the glowing, bioluminescent river below. Your heart raced as you pushed yourself faster, the wind rushing past your ears, but it only made the sounds of your laughter spill out even louder.

It felt like freedom, like nothing in the world could touch you in this moment.

But just as you rounded a turn on the massive branch, his speed bested yours. Toned arms circled around your slim waist, pulling you back against him with such effortless power that it knocked the breath from your lungs. You gasped, his chest firm against your back, his body radiating warmth in the cool, humid air.

The glowing river far below shimmered with blues and greens, but the only thing you could focus on was him. Neteyam’s breath tickled your ear, unsteady from the chase but layered with soft, husky laughter that sent shivers racing down your spine.

“You’re not getting from me away that easily, yawne.” he murmured, his voice triumphant, teasing, as his arms held you close. His arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer, and you swore you could feel every inch of him pressing against you. His heat, his scent, the way his hands seemed to burn through your skin.

Neteyam's breath brushed over your ear, warm and unstead, sending a hum of heat through your veins as the hairs on the back of your neck rose. You fought to steady yourself, but it was impossible. Your knees felt weak as a warmth blossomed in the pit of your stomach. It wasn’t just from the chase anymore. It was from the way he held you, so firmly, with the way his lips lingered so close to the curve of your neck so teasingly that left you dizzy in his hold. He chuckled once again as if hinting at the promise of laughter and surprises yet to come.

Before you could retort, before you could even think, he moved; both of you toppling sideways off the branch. You barely had time to gasp as he leapt, carrying you with him into the air. The drop lasted only seconds before you plunged into the river below, the cool water swallowing you both in a burst of bubbles and bioluminescent light.

You surfaced with a gasp, your laughter echoing across the glowing expanse as you pushed the wet strands of hair from your face. “Neteyam!” you exclaimed, half scolding, half incredulous.

He emerged just beside you, grinning like a mischievous child, his braids dripping water and his golden eyes sparkling. “You looked like you needed to cool off,” he teased, his voice thick with playful arrogance.

Well, you did need to cool off the hotness in your core… but this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind.

Without hesitation, you launched a spray of cool water at him, the droplets shimmering with the river’s glow as they scattered in radiant arcs. His reaction was instant; a burst of deep, joyful laughter that echoed through the humid air, rich and unrestrained. The playful challenge sparked an electric excitement between you, drawing you both into a frenzy of splashing and dodging. The world then began to blur into the glowing water and your shared laughter, a symphony of carefree chaos where nothing else mattered but this moment.

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this alive, this carefree.

Eventually, your laughter guys laughter faded into breathless quiet. His eyes found yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to still. He moved closer, his face only inches from yours now, his wet skin glistening faintly in the river’s glow.

You let out a little laugh, your fingers finding it’s way on his chest, not sure whether to pull away or pull him closer. "You're insufferable, you know that?"

“I’m yours,” he corrected, his voice low and serious for just a moment as he stared deeply into your eyes, drowning in them as if they were the river instead. “And I’m never letting you go.”

Soon enough, Neteyam’s once-constant efforts seemed to slip away, fading into nothing more than fleeting memories. His presence, once a constant source of warmth, began to diminish with every passing day. The flowers he had once brought you—each one an offering of love and hope—became fewer and fewer, as if the color was draining from both the blooms and the moments you shared.

Once again, you understood and didn’t blame him, or at least told yourself. After all, your own responsibilities as a healer had grown burdensome, the increasing frequency of skirmishes and the unrelenting demand for resources leaving you with little time for anything else. Your days blurred into a haze of tending wounds and gathering herbs, each task an anchor that dragged you further from the quiet joys you once had even with yourself.

The strain of hunting weighed heavily on Neteyam too. Gone were the days when he would wander through Pandora’s vibrant forest, carefully selecting the most beautiful flowers to weave into thoughtful bouquets. Now, even the act of picking a single bloom seemed beyond his reach, a bittersweet reminder of the tenderness that had once come so effortlessly.

The communal dinners you had once savored together became strained, short-lived affairs. He would excuse himself early, his duties as the future Olo’eyktan demanding his attention, dragging him away before the last bite of food could even be tasted. He needed rest, they said, to prepare for the challenges ahead. And though you understood, the weight of his absence pressed heavier on your chest with every night he left, his absence a constant ache. The time you once had—those stolen moments of laughter, of closeness, of being seen—became rare, almost impossible to hold onto. The spaces between you grew longer, the silences more deafening.

You began to wonder if this was just how it had to be now. If love, no matter how deep, could survive when it was stretched thin by duty and distance. But fear began to creep in, insidious and unwelcome. It was twofold: the fear of losing Neteyam to the weight of his future, and the fear of losing yourself entirely to the relentless tide of duty.

It seemed that love or leisure took a backseat and only the ceaseless demands of survival drove up-front. Maybe, maybe, everything was silently nearing the end of you and him.

You missed him, so very much. But a part of you couldn’t bring yourself to let go of your pride or admit just how much you missed him. Perhaps you thought you were being unreasonable, that it shouldn’t hurt this much when he wasn’t around. So you turned away from him, convincing yourself that this distance was dignified, that it was better to seem indifferent than desperate.

Yet deep down, the fear gnawed at you. You were terrified of being too much, of clinging too tightly to the man destined to lead and maybe eventually leave you like he always did. Either due to the familiar duties or worse, death. If you moved closer, if you let yourself reach for him, you feared you wouldn’t be able to let go. And worse, you feared the day would come when you’d find yourself begging, pleading for him not to leave, not to hurt you ever again, and that would shatter you in a way you weren’t sure you could survive.

You awoke one day after he finally joined you in your hammock for the first time in many nights, and as expected, the warmth of his body pressed against yours was gone, leaving only the faintest memory, as fragile as dew kissed by the morning sun. Could it have been just a dream? The thought clawed at you. You hoped not, but the possibility felt plausible. After all, exhaustion had blurred the lines between reality and fantasy. Perhaps your sleep-deprived mind had conjured it all: the weight of his arms around you, the gentle press of his lips, the whispered words.

But just as the doubt began to settle, a soft rustle pulled your thoughts back to the present. The sound grew louder, and you turned your head to see the heart of the matter approaching your hammock once again. Neteyam.

The warrior, as if returning from a long combat, emerged from the soft morning light, his smile radiant and disarming, as if the very sight of you was the highlight of his day. In his hands, he held a woven pouch, bursting with herbs and dried flowers, their scents already filling the air between you.

“For your hammock,” he said, his voice warm and full of affection. He knelt in front of you, holding it out with both hands like an offering. “So that it smells like the forest… and not, you know.” His grin widened, boyish and unguarded, as if he couldn’t help but tease you just a little.

You blinked at him, surprised. “Did you… make this?”

“Of course,” he said proudly, a light laugh escaping his lips. “Well, okay, I asked Grandmother for help. But I picked the flowers myself. Only the best ones, paskalin (sweet berry).”

You brought the pouch to your nose, inhaling deeply. The scent was a perfect blend of calming herbs, delicate flowers, and something distinctly him—earthy, grounding, and utterly familiar.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. For once, you didn’t try to hide the smile tugging at your lips. “But it’s so early. How’d you find the time?”

Neteyam’s eyes softened as he looked at you, and he reached out, brushing his fingers gently against yours. “Yawne,” he began, his voice steady and full of conviction, “I will always find time for you. Even when I’m busy, even when it feels like the world is pulling us in every direction, you are the first thing on my mind. And I pray you never have to wait so long for me again.”

Before you could respond, he leaned closer, his smile deepening. “It’s always going to be me at the end of the line, no matter what. Remember that for me, please?”

And as if he knew what you had been thinking, his words hit you like a wave, sweeping away most of your doubt like it always did. Before it inevitably crept back in, of course. Yet something entirely else stirred within you as Neteyam leaned in closer. His proximity was disarming, his golden eyes holding you unexpectedly captive. His scent, warm and woodsy, wrapped around you like a second skin, and the sight of him this close—lips parted slightly, his sharp jawline catching the soft morning light—sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded slowly, but it was more out of reflex than control. Your hands tightened around the woven pouch, clutching it as though it could tether you to reality, though your mind was already spinning. Your breath hitched, heart thundering in your chest as you couldn’t ignore how weak you felt under his gaze, knees threatening to buckle even though you were sitting.

He tilted his head, studying you with a faint smile tugging at his lips, so achingly handsome that it sent heat rushing through your cheeks.

“Yawne,” he murmured softly, his voice like a caress, “Are you alright?”

Your throat felt dry, and you cursed your inability to speak. You could feel the burn low in your core, an ache you didn’t know how to soothe, and you prayed he didn’t notice the flush creeping up your neck. But the way his eyes flickered over you—intently, as though he could read every thought you didn’t dare say aloud—made you wonder if he already knew.

“I, uh… I’m fine,” you managed to whisper, though your voice wavered, betraying you. But you summoned a smile for his grace, despite it all, “Thank you, Ma’ Teyam. For this, for everything.”

“Always welcome.” His smile grew, softer now, but laced with that teasing edge he reserved just for you. “Are you sure you’re alright?” His tone was light, but his hand reached out, fingers brushing against the side of your hip down to your thigh. The simple contact made you feel as though your whole body was alight. It was maddening how much power he held over you, how even a fleeting touch could leave you unraveling. You wanted to look away, to collect yourself, but the way he was looking at you—with that intoxicating mix of love and desire—had you rooted to the spot.

“Because,” he added, leaning in just enough for his breath to ghost across your lips, “you look like you’re about to fall apart. And, paskalin, I’m not sure if I should hold you… or let you crumble, just so I can pick up every piece.”

His words sent your mind spinning, and you realized then that you weren’t sure whether you wanted to push him away or pull him closer. All you knew was that the heat of him, the weight of his gaze, was utterly consuming, and despite yourself, you wanted to burn.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

Instantly, you demanded, “Pick me up. Bring me to your tent.”

There was no hesitation, no need for clarification. He knew exactly what you were asking, and it sent a flicker of something dangerous and thrilling through his golden eyes. His lips curved into a knowing smile, one that made your stomach flutter and your breath catch in your throat.

Without a word, Neteyam scooped you up effortlessly, his hands firm against your thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck. The ease with which he held you made you feel small and completely at his mercy, and it only heightened the ache that had been building inside you for far too long.

“Missed me that much, huh?” he murmured, his voice a low, velvety tease as his forehead brushed against yours. The warmth of his breath danced across your skin, igniting every nerve as you struggled to keep your composure. “Almost thought you’d never ask…”

Your fingers threaded into his braids, pulling him just a little closer, your lips barely a breath apart. “Don’t make me regret this, ‘Teyam,” you whispered, though the tremor in your voice betrayed the longing you’d been trying to keep hidden.

“Regret?” He chuckled, a sound so rich and full it made your head spin. “Yawne, you’re about to remember why you never could.”

He carried you swiftly, his steps purposeful as the tension between you crackled like the air before a storm. Every glance he stole, every squeeze of his hands against you, eventually ended with a peck on your lips. And by the time he reached his tent, Neteyam set you down carefully, his eyes burning into yours with an intensity that stole your breath.

His thumb brushed along your cheek, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent chills down your spine. “Loving me might be dangerous, syulang (flower),” he said, his lips ghosting against yours, “but you’re the bravest thing I’ve ever known.”

And in that instant, you knew. You were going to fall for the risk of wanting him as long as you wake, no matter how perilous the drop.

AHHHH thank you for reading!! once again—likes, comments and reblogs are very deeply appreciated. 💞💞

i was wondering, should i have made them kiss? but then i was like nahhhhhhhhhh. i like how the story points to how love can be shown beyond just mere physicality (even if it gets suggestive at some point). it’s cute, don’t you think??

ANYWAYSS, i hope you guys enjoyed and thank you so much @aamircoeur for the request! i’ve definitely gotten a few in the mailbox lately & i’d love for more because i’m on a looooong vacation so i would love to write while i’m free!! if you have any ideas (esp your craziest / complicated ones as long as it’s PG) send em right up! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

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comfortless · 10 months ago

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sylly (like silly yk yk) what are your könig hcs? 🌹

SYLLY?! i…. Ok…. fair warning this is a little long… all that i do is think about this guy someone get him out of my head.

tread carefully reading this! there is a lot of sensitive content here: mental health stuff, abuse, mentions of sex and pornographic material, suicidal ideation, etc etc.

Generic, silly headcanons:

He prefers coffee (black) over tea, but he does have a bit of a sweet tooth (will never resist caramel if it’s presented to him). Honestly, he’s pretty self-reliant when it comes to food, too. On lazy days, he makes enough to where a takeout bill is hardly a concern, but for the most part he cooks! Not a chef by any means, but nothing he ever makes is bad!

Definitely wants a big, loving family, the polar opposite of what he had growing up as an only child in a far less than perfect household. Not a dealbreaker, but he does yearn for all of the love that he’s missed out on and then some.

Not big on video games, but… I do think he is absolutely spending every lonely leave playing Elder Scrolls. Would be so easy to convince to go larping or to a renfaire. I see everyone’s car/bike guy headcanons and I raise you… obsessed with fantasy König. He loves history and myth!! Why not combine the two and see him in chainmail.

The scent & kink posts. But to add… he’s an affectionate biter. (,: Knows the correct places to do so that won’t cause damage or hurt too terribly much. Likes to sniff you just as well! The embodiment of the “merge souls with me” post; in love, he just wants to feel you any way that he can and have some part of you lingering on him, even if it’s just a stray hair or your scent clinging to his shirt or pillowcase.

Cheating is never on this guy’s mind when he’s in a relationship. If he’s found a lady not running for the hills the second she catches sight of him, that’s his one and only. Sure, he may find himself attracted to someone else at some point or other during the duration of a relationship, but he’s devoted and disciplined! There’s never the fear of anyone coming in between he and his lover. He’ll spoil you with gifts, clingy to a point it’s overbearing, always giving you the utmost care… but is not opposed to bullying you into being a submissive, trembling mess either. He’s balanced!

Adores animals. Like any of them. There’s a special place in his heart for cats, but having a constant companion that he can take on hikes like a large dog would be ideal. Would definitely consider owning a tarantula or a snake, too. ^^ He isn’t scared of anything, let alone a creature that most are misinformed about… (he projects a little..). He would treat them just as well as anyone would treat a more “normal” pet. Understanding if you wouldn’t want to hold a giant arachnid (they’re delicate and you squirming over it would make him a bit protective over the poor thing. ): ), but it would mean a lot to him if you were more accepting.

König would not be a pretty sight (to most people) the majority of the time… I doubt that he takes care of himself past training his body and his allotted one-two minute military showers. His character description describes what is rumored to be under his mask as scary. Let him have his buzzcut, and scars, and teeth or old wounds a little too fucked up to fix! Unconventionally attractive is still attractive! (i think his ‘face reveal’ is actually so cute…)

Lots of sporadic little thoughts, but… Ambidextrous, can not ride a bike, whistles/hums to fill lapses of silence, flexes his fingers/cracks his knuckles when he’s nervous, definitely snores (loudly), brushes his teeth like 3-4 times a day (when he can) because he eats so much, not a picky eater at all, thinks it’s cute if you’re affectionately a little grossed out by him from time to time, absolutely the kind of person that thinks fuel and fire smell good, fluent in English and German but certainly knows many words and phrases from other languages.

Kind of clumsy. Overthinks the way his body looks to the point where sometimes his movements are a little stiff. Overestimates how tall a door frame may be if he’s distracted in the presence of others, hits his head and plays it off like he didn’t even notice. He’s (obviously) highly confident on the field, but in regular circumstances it’s totally reversed.

Though. Yeah. Sometimes this does translate onto the field. Can’t stay in one place for too long, once knocked an enemy soldier out by barreling into him. He’s a quick shot, skillful with any weapon that falls into his hands, but his focus can get a little skewed.

He collects some things. Nothing exactly pricy, but antique knives, coins, and a pocket watch or two. And he isn’t the most apt at putting things together in an appealing way… The first time you’re allowed into his house it looks like he’s robbed some vintage hunting shop/is planning something nefarious with the way he’s just got a few daggers strewn about his kitchen table. Just push them to the side, it’s fine! (His favorite is certainly one with a handle carved from a stag’s antler.)

Definitely takes a physical approach to bad feelings. @melancholic-thing mentioned to me that he bites himself when he’s feeling dejected or frustrated and yeah. (All of Ghost’s hcs for him are factually correct.) Not going to punch a hole through the wall but may aggressively slam a door or raise his voice before he can catch himself.

I have many thoughts about König’s childhood/early adulthood. Like, too many. But to summarize…

I think that everyone experiences bullying to an extent but what would make it so bad that it managed to make its way into the scraps that we do have of him? What made him so fundamentally unlikable to his peers? /: With my König I’ve settled on it being a blend of neurodivergency and a nightmare home life and alienation from his peers.

Height is predominantly viewed as a good trait. I don’t think it was necessarily his appearance at all that got him picked on so heavily (albeit… I do think that he would have had some scars, crooked teeth, regular facial bruising or cuts from scraps with other children/his father). Perhaps not the most conventionally attractive guy around, but normally viewed as a solid 5/10, just average. The kind of person who you wouldn’t remember from just a face alone.

His personality was always memorable though.

Whilst the other children/teenagers were interested in the regular trends, sports, whatever was shown on the television or heard on the radio at the time, I think he probably would have had a great interest in escapism!!

Comics, books, researching history and geography, etc, anything that could keep him from thinking of where he was/what other people viewed him as. He had a lot of strange things to say: odd facts (like the kind of person to tell you the longest word in the dictionary because he thinks it’s cool, “um actually—“ to correct something, monologuing about some bug you’ve just squashed and how it was not just a pest but very useful in nature, borderline concerning reactions to being shunned (feigned threats of violence that he would laugh off, things he’s probably heard from media and his own parents), over explaining himself for the simplest of misunderstandings, and… quoting his Oma’s very old-fashioned turns of phrase (think of little Kö regularly saying “Du gehst mir tierisch auf den Keks.” when he’s annoyed whereas the others say things far less dated like “Du gehst mir auf den Sack.”)

With him being difficult to relate to and having the most uncanny things slip out of his mouth, others probably did view him as a bit of a freak. He didn’t particularly stand up for himself often either apart from a few fights (and would never hit a girl). He would stay quiet, pretend to focus on his studies or whatever else was before him while the other children jeered and taunted. Regularly a target for fake confessions and offers to hang out outside of school, too.

König did have crushes, did have people he thought were cool and wanted to befriend, but after the third time of showing up someplace that he had to walk to on his own to find that no one had actually wanted to spend their time with him, he gave up.

I don’t think he had a good relationship with his parents or much of anyone. Seriously, leaving for the military at seventeen sets off a ton of alarm bells! He left the week of his Oma’s passing, because what else was there for him — no girlfriend, no prospects, hardly a relationship with his mother or father.

His father was your standard shit parent— womanizing, loud, physically abusive towards König. “Bonding” activities with him always had a heavy lean towards violence: hunting and arguing that usually resulted in fist fighting his own son seemed to be his favorites. A small man with an equally small ego— he probably would have boasted about his affairs to König, exposed him to pornography as a way of making sure his son wasn’t anything other than straight (which: never stopped his curiosity). He would never hold back from telling König that he would never in a million years find a girl willing to put up with his supposed stupidity and shortcomings. Generally just viewed his own son as utterly worthless if not for use as a punching bag.

In turn, König always loathed him, would dread hearing the bastard just walking around the house because he knew he would always find something to bicker with his wife or son over. Nothing that they ever did would be deemed correct, and his social anxiety initially developed from his dealings with him.

His mother was withdrawn, emotionally neglectful. König was just… there to her; another mouth to feed, another person begging for the attention she would have rather spared on herself.

She wasn’t a bad mother and she did try, but the product of dealing with his father’s nonsense + letting her own mental illness go unchecked (as in, his father controlled the family financially and why would he let her blow through their funds to see a therapist and “lose her lucidity with pills and ridiculous talks”). There were some days when she would be feeling more like herself and take König along with her for walks through the park where she would try to ask him about his life, about school, and… he would end up spilling his guts to her only for her to return to silence. Still, those were his favorite days. His fondest memory was picking a flower for her on one of those walks, one that she kept pressed and later framed.

There were never family dinners, no movie nights, no day trips or vacations. The most blissful of days were spent in the comfort of his room where he could keep the door locked and muffle the sounds of his parents arguing with loud music.

So, König did not have much of a safe space within his own home, but he had his Oma and her cluttered little house. She had books and plenty of food, even a cat, too. Though she was like his mother, stern and withdrawn, she would at least sit with him and tell him stories of her own life. She would at least tell him “Ich lieb dich, Käferchen!” in her quiet voice, stroke his head where he would sit with his nose buried in a book beside her. She would show him her dusty antiques, her old photographs, and in turn taught him to be a proper man by making him tend to what needed to be done around her house. And the garden. He loved his Oma’s garden, full of orchids, petunias, and tomatoes she would mash up to make him goulash or tomatensalat!

With Austria’s leading religion being Catholicism, I do think his Oma would have dragged him with her to service plenty, too. Not that he ever particularly enjoyed it… just zoned out with a plastic soldier in his pocket to fidget with or some trading card he spent the money he earned doing chores for her on. He’s never considered himself religious, thought himself to be bound for Hell no matter what, even if most of the time he felt that he was already there.

You take a puppy that’s been beaten down his entire life, but still remains eager and throw him in a barrack with people more horrible than any bully he’s ever had, though…? He starts taking his father’s advice more and more then. He wouldn’t harm anyone that he didn’t view as deserving of it, but it didn’t need to go that far that often, anyway. König is aware of the space he takes up by then, aware that all of his training has made him more broad and sturdy, and those playground fights are nothing compared to what he’s capable of now.

He gets his callsign from a quip about him owning nothing. His barrack is empty, devoid of pictures or any sentimental belongings. He rarely checks his phone, there might be the occasional missed call from a spam number, what is there to even see? He has no social media presence, every leave is spent in a shitty apartment only a days travel from his hometown, and he is utterly silent when the other soldiers invite him out for drinks. So yes, he’s a king. The king of absolutely nothing.

One of these rowdy boys does eventually coax him into talking to a woman. He loses his virginity in a disgusting bar bathroom, where he asks her after the two minutes he’s spent inside of her if it means anything to her at all. She laughs, washes herself in the sink and calms him down, but doesn’t give him her number or anything more than her first name.

He’s starved for love, utterly miserable without it, but doesn’t have much of a desire to seek it out, either. He’s seen how people are, how they treat him. But time and time again he will grapple onto any thread that may lead him to a pinhole of hope when it’s offered to him. For the most part, he has his hand and a perpetually almost-empty bottle of lotion.

And it’s not much of a surprise that König has contemplated suicide more times than he can count. It has never culminated in any way, only fearing that he would disappoint his men, even further disappoint his parents, maybe even a small part of him still believes in a Hell; that maybe with enough vigilantism on his part he’ll earn his way to a pleasant afterlife, one he teeters on the separation of believing in and not.

He doesn’t think about his mental health, always haunted by his father’s words, thinking that assuredly it would make him weak if he were to seek help for something like his own thoughts. So he overexerts himself during workouts, bottles everything other than rage and love inside: no one is going to see him cry, not ever again after being laughed at for him hundreds of times during school where he sat being called an “ugly giant” a “daydreaming freak” and an “idiot” near daily where silent tears did escape, only spurring further laughter.

Though I do not write him with these things in mind for every au, there are always subtle hints scattered about. ^^ I could probably prattle on forever about him, but I will leave you with this for now…

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yiiyiiwrites · 8 months ago

Text

JJ Maybank x burnt out, overachieving Kook

She comes from a large family, always compared to her siblings. Doesn’t matter how hard she works, she can’t quite get the approval or praise from her family. She wants it so bad, wants to be seen.

She’s ruined herself trying to live up to the family name, wasn’t her fault she had a full on mental breakdown at the country club and is banned temporarily. That kook ex boyfriend had what was coming in her eyes.

There’s rumours swimming around that she’s addicted some sort of drug but little did they know it’s just in the form of a tall blonde guy who allows her the space to breathe.

JJ Maybank sees her across the perfect lawn he’s cutting. Her shoulders drooped, arms crossed making her appear smaller as the housekeeper shouts at her to stay outside till the kitchen floor is dry. He doesn’t know that’s the only bit of attention she receives at home.

He hasn’t seen her before, apart from later that day when she’s chucking anything she can get her hands on at the kook that angered her. There’s a fire in her eyes that he’s all too familiar with, the helplessness clawing out, so she lashes out the moment someone hurts her because she’s at the end of her tether. Holding on, to god knows what.

Then there’s the meet cute. JJ’s hanging round the back of the club after his shift, smoking off the stress of the day when she crashes through the fire escape door. Her hands resting on her knees as she catches her breath. The blood drumming in her ears and the thumping in her head seem to silence as his voice filters through the mess in her head.

He doesn’t say anything else just gives her his joint and pats her back. She watches him zip away on his motorbike, the burn on her fingertips reminding her of his gift balancing between them.

The second time he runs in to the her, she’s kicking the shallow edge of water with her boots. He’s wading out of the sea, surf board tucked under his arm. She’s not dressed for the beach, clunky boots, heavy clad in short overalls that showcase her broad shoulders perfectly. The bucket hat hiding her eyes, nose slightly bigger but fit her face and accentuate the shape of the Cupid bow lips. She’s not alone though, an older sister calling her from the row of towels accompanied by some more girls topping up their tans.

The third times the charm though. JJ hears her soft voice, not the scratched scream he first heard in her moment of rage. They might not be from the same place but they’re cut from the same cloth. Tongues dripping with hatred for their fathers, last names weighing them down.

She doesn’t know how long it’s been since she could breathe. The knot in her stomach disappearing as soon as she sees his smile. The comfort they give and find in each other.

JJ pushes her out of her comfort zone, gives her space to feel her way around and find herself. There’s so much potential in the unknown, the expectations set by her family falling off like shredding your armour after a big battle.

The moment to be still. To relax in his embrace, to be held. She just wanted to be seen and held.

You can read the other outer banks character prompts with burnt out over achiever kook on my profile. - Yiiyii

#obx fanfiction #obx fic #jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank prompt #outer banks fic #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x reader

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whumptober · 4 months ago

Note

Question for the mods because I'm curious :)

What are all of your fave prompts to write about/draw/edit/whatever creative thing you do??

Thanks for the ask anon! It was really fun for us all to come up with our favourites! And for a little more fun, at the end we've added a poll for you guys to let us know which mod's interests best align with your own!

Kitty - My favourite whump tropes are definitely captivity and torture, followed by burning buildings with of course smoke inhalation and oxygen masks and all that, vehicular accidents, and hypothermia (especially when paired with nearly drowning or falling through ice)! I absolutely adore anything with family feels too, especially found family, and although I don't write it much I love a good bit of enemies to lovers too. Characters dealing with mental health issues can also be very therapeutic for me. And of course my whump needs to have a good amount of comfort at the end, so recovery is a very good trope too!

Also, alternate universes are my jam!

Yenn - I love body horror and I go feral for mouth sewn shut. I don't know why that one fascinates me, but I love the horror and helplessness of it. I also deeply love sleep deprivation, maybe because I'm generally sleep deprived (I have nightmares every night). Coming in at a close third is probably Doomed by the Narrative, but only when it's done well, because I can usually spot it from the opening sequence and the fun becomes figuring out how we'll get to the fall. I'm all hurt, little or no comfort.

Surro - Found family will forever be my favourite trope, especially if the dynamic contains that One Whumpee that ties them all together. Parental figures who just so happen to let the One Whumpee get under their skin are also my jam as it makes the comfort that much sweeter. I go ham for misunderstood/outcast characters who sacrifice themselves for the team (and the team get to them just in time). But I also love writing for emotional angst, characters with anxiety (as it’s therapeutic for me) setbacks in recovery, head injuries, angst surrounding scars, and of course BEDSIDE VIGILS! (Especially if those watching the whumpee are wracked with guilt for abandoning said whumpee)

Personally I lean more towards the platonic/comfort side of Whump, but I make sure my characters go through hell to finally get their respite.

Vanne - I’m really unfaithful to tropes most of the time and normally have about a million WIPs going at once. I normally end up going back to more emotionally charged tropes every time though. I write a lot of doomed romances with a lot of emotional angst. I know that’s super vague, but honestly give me tears, rejection, loneliness and a character’s internal struggles and I’m all set. I’m so up for any kind of emotional trainwreck. I also really cycle through tropes that are relevant in my life at a given time, so it’s hard to list specifics. I’m definitely either all in on the hurt, or all comfort depending on the day. I rarely find a balance between the two.

#whumptober #asks #poll #favourite tropes

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gffa · 8 months ago

Note

Do you have any Sith!Obi-Wan fics you can recommend? 🙏

Hi! You can do a search for Sith Obi-Wan in my bookmarks which brings up several or you can start with the novel-length ones that still live rent-free in my head even years after I've read them: Equinox by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 95.9k During the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan and Anakin crash on a remote planet and take shelter in the ruins of a grand estate only to find they are not alone. This fic was written for me, so I'm biased, but it's genuinely my favorite for the trope because Lily put all this thought into the undercurrents going on between the characters, because it gives such care about why any version of Obi-Wan would fall to the dark and what he would be like, because each chapter had moments of foreshadowing and care given to lush, beautiful descriptions and the creeping dread of the place. It's a gorgeous fic and I think even if someone doesn't usually like Sith versions of the characters, the way this one does it (created reflections, not that our characters are falling, so it's scratching the itch of how it's an extension of our characters, but our characters are not on that exact path), I would gently suggest this one.

Lex Talionis by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 187.1k Or, how Obi-Wan and Anakin fell to the dark side, obtained their revenge, and saved the galaxy in the process. My other favorite Sith Obi-Wan fic, this one is about how these characters fall to the dark, and the author takes his time with how it happens step by step, but also how these massive, galaxy-spanning changes happen, how it's a combination of how sexy the dark side can be but also how awful it can be, how much pain and hurt it can cause. There's so much care and effort put into this story, it spans such a huge story, that it's one of those fics I want to physically print out in special binding because it deserves to be a pretty set on my bookshelf.

wicked thing by imaginarykat, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 124.2k the story of how Anakin exists in a perpetual state of intense embarrassment, Kenobi is enjoying it a little too much, and everything is, generally speaking, a gigantic mess. This is an AU where Obi-Wan never trained Anakin and is already a Sith when we meet him, and there's a reason it's one of the most famous fics in the fandom, because it is the most charismatic thing I've just about ever read, the sheer amount of dark side sexy charm coming off Obi-Wan is incredible, the tension between him and Anakin is delicious, and the writing/plotting of the storyline is superb. I could not put this fic down when I read it, there's a reason this fic helped really popularize the trope, because it's just so goddamned addicting and glorious to read.

Soldier, Poet, King by Glare, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, time travel, 106.4k wip Second chances are very rarely given, but the Force smiles upon two of its favorite children and returns them to a time before their actions have met their consequences. Anakin Skywalker, also known as Darth Vader, seeks redemption while Obi-Wan “Ben” Kenobi, disillusioned with the Jedi Order and its Code, falls to the Darkness. Trapped out of time, Master and Apprentice must once again work together to stop Sideous’ plans from reaching fruition and bring Balance to the Force—all the while dodging the Jedi, the Sith, and their feelings for each other. I think this might even have been the first Sith!Obi-Wan fic that I read and I know it remains dear to me because I reread it a year or two ago and got sucked in just as hard as before. Obi-Wan is dropped back into his younger body, feels like the whole thing is a bunch of bullshit, gets sucked into dark thoughts, and just goes full dark side dom on Anakin and fixing the galaxy through machinations and foreknowledge. It's so fun and it does such great service to Anakin's level of power, that this guy is an absolute dragon in the Force, but that he also very much wants Obi-Wan's hand on the back of his neck to force him to kneel to the one person he loves. Hnngggg, it really cemented me as a fan of this trope because of how well it scratches the sexy dark side dom/sub while they're both badass dynamic, I love it so much.

I'm still making my way through a lot of Star Wars fic, so if anyone has any more recs, feel free to jump in, especially if you have some gen ones, since I mostly read pairing fic for Sith!Obi-Wan (because I'm personally after the sexy dom/sub dynamic with it)!

#lumi.txt #star wars #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #obikin #fic recs #star wars fic recs #sith obi wan

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ochrearia · 3 months ago

Text

8 BFs In a Room

Hell on Ochre technique is making myself balance 8 characters in one drabble because I feel guilty about leaving anyone's BFs out when they're on my list. Have fun shenanigans with a gut punch of angst at the end (sorry) <3

BFs in this drabble: PoPr!BF (Biff, mine), cs!BF (Beefer, mine), fc!BF (Boyf, Keyy's), wyd!BF (Beef, Karl's), sfa!BF (Peacock, Shed's), S2!BF (Bee, Isaac's), Candy!BF? (Blue, Slushgut's, unsure of a prefix for now), Yourself (YS)

“Why did I ever agree to this?” YS grumbled, rubbing a hand across his throat. “Fucking hell, I’m going to have such a sore throat tomorrow morning because I decided to indulge you shitters.”

“Well no one said you had to do them all one right after another, that was you, dumbass.”

YS glared at Boyf. “Oh and how else was I supposed to comprehend the request? Not a single one of you looked willing to wait your turn. No concept of patience in this room.”

“How am I supposed to have patience when you have such a cool song?! I got excited and so did everyone else!” Blue complained, contrasting the grin on his face.

“At least it was only six times and not seven. I had my turn months ago.” Biff was grinning as well. “Though I also had the thought in the back of my head that you wanted to kill me, potentially, so it was nervous fun.”

“I wasn’t gonna-” YS huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No, fair enough, I literally smacked you across the room. Sorry. Have I ever actually said I was sorry for that? I’m such an idiot.”

“You were forgiven a long time ago, I don’t care.” Softer tone from Biff now. “Though I think you should have recreated the experience for everyone else. Or at least Beef.”

“What the fuck is your problem?!” Beef hollered, making angry faces at Biff. “Fuck you in particular!”

“Fuck you also!”

“I’m not smacking everyone across the room.” YS said bluntly. “I’m not going to be physically hurting any of you on purpose, thank you.”

“Aaah, big guy cares about us.” Peacock teased.

“Okay you’re making me consider going back on what I just said.”

“Can you reconsider that for Beefer specifically I kinda wanna see who’d win between you two.”

“He’s a literal dinosaur?? Who the hell do you think is gonna win?” YS asked incredulously.

“I haven’t figured out how to go into battle mode yet and I’m too nervous about how my situation’s playing out to ask yet.” Beefer shrugged. “If that makes you feel better. I can’t do much other than bite and scratch without it.”

“Can you hurry up and figure it out a little faster though? I’m not the only one who’s curious about all of that you know. I want to see what a dinosaur me would look like!” Insisted Bee, practically stars in his eyes.

“Hey I thought the specimen here was YS, not me!”

“You guys aren’t actually fucking calling me a specimen right. I wasn’t even awake for that shit you can’t just decide that’s one of my nicknames.” YS complained.

“Biff was the one who said it, and also laughed about it.” Peacock pointed.

“Snitch!”

“Holy fuck, you’re all toddlers. All seven of you, I swear to god. Why am I in charge of any of you? Isn’t that what your Picos and GFs are for, I should not be responsible for this.”

“What’s wrong with putting you in charge? You have the best ideas out of all of us.” Blue insisted. “I haven’t been here for too long but you’re pretty cool! The rest of you are too!”

“Him? Cool? Nah, just wait until he’s scared of upsetting you and he starts getting all subdued and nervous.” Boyf snarked with his phone.

“Wait until you find out that he’s-”

“Beef you better not finish that fucking sentence or the dumb corner will PERSONALLY have your name on it.” YS threatened.

“Blame Biff for talking his shit man, that wasn’t my fault.” Beef grinned with a shrug.

“Can you guys stop keeping all these secrets? I want to know the YS lore too. Sharing is caring!” Peacock asked. “How come Biff and Beef get to know but the rest of us don’t?”

“Because Biff’s an asshole and figured it out on his own because he has the same issue.” YS huffed, crossing his arms. “And he decided it would be a wonderful idea to tell Beef, who doesn’t have that issue, and who would sooner exploit it instead of being a kind person.”

“We were doing it to cheer you up, shut up man, you ruin my life with the same problem and I’m at a disadvantage because your tall, lanky ass can pick me up like I weigh nothing!” Biff countered, anger playful.

“Anyone else feel like they’re missing a couple seasons here?” Beefer asked to the rest.

“Sounds like we need to interrogate those two for some info.”

“Beef, we’re buddies… you can tell me!” Bee tried to tempt him. “We played Nun Massacre together that one time, come onnnn, tell me!”

“You tell anyone about that and I’m actually going to go back on what I said earlier. I don’t need anyone else knowing that there’s a way to incapacitate me and you two knowing is already bad enough.” YS hissed.

“Why would you say that though?” Peacock laughed. “Now we know there’s a way to incapacitate you. Yeah, you’re definitely one of us if you can’t think that far ahead to realize saying that’s only going to make us more curious.”

“Fucking- Shut up. Forget I said that.”

“I’m still stuck on the mental image of him picking Biff up like a toothpick.” Laughed Blue. “Can you do that with all of us? Oh, oh, how many of us do you think you could pick up at once?”

“I am not doing that.”

“Oh my god, this guy is so fucking grumpy and boring. Would you just live a little?” Biff sighed, standing up from his place on the floor. “Think fast chucklenuts, you better catch me or we’re both going to the floor!”

“Biff-!”

Biff ran at YS, jumping halfway there and practically slamming into the taller’s chest. He stumbled, frantically trying to keep himself steady and also make sure the small asshole didn’t crash to the ground between his hands.

“Jesus fucking- Why. Why are you like this. Don’t do that again or I will just drop you on purpose.”

“Nah, you wouldn’t do that, you care too much about your little brother to let him get hurt.” Biff teased snidely.

“Just saying, YS, if you wanted to reconsider him being your first little brother, you still can.”

Biff glowered at Boyf like he’d just tried to commit murder. YS snorted out a laugh, shaking his head at how ridiculous things got when all of them were in the same room.

“So wait, Biff’s not the only one who can have little brother status?” Bee asked. “Wait, where can I sign up?”

“Is there a form we have to sign, or…?” Peacock questioned with a hint of mischief.

“Wait, I want a big brother too!” Blue butted in.

YS wanted to be swallowed into the ground in sheer embarrassment over how happy this was making him. The bloom of warmth in his chest was still so unfamiliar, but incredibly addicting for the times he actually had felt it. Starting right in his heart and aching in the best way, spreading across his chest and successfully chasing away his cold body temperature for a time.

“I’d say me too, but I don’t think he can handle hearing one more of those with how his face is starting to turn red.” Beefer snorted. “You’re so bad at hiding the joy on your face, man. But I think it looks like it belongs on you, to be honest.”

YS couldn’t stifle the groan when his arms were still occupied by Biff, who was an annoying little asshole for jumping at him, causing this to happen all at once, and expose him for how happy he could get over the sentiment of having them all as little brothers. Of course it would be the littlest brother that could cause so much damn chaos in a matter of seconds.

“Shut up…” He protested feebly, but what was he supposed to do when Biff moved closer to give him a proper hug now? Fuck this guy, knowing how to derail everything. He wasn’t used to feeling so loved, hadn’t felt anything like it in a good while.

“I didn’t know this guy even had the capacity to blush. See, these are the things we should be telling each other, every little bit of information is going to help if we have any chance of helping him out like he does with us.” Peacock seemed like he was going to make a list of things at this point.

“True! Even the little things help paint a better picture. Makes it feel like the puzzle we’re solving is an actual person instead of some stranger.” Bee added in agreement.

“You’re all so-” What could he really say? All of them seemed so determined, like they’d all already had this conversation to agree to care. Maybe they had and YS just hadn’t noticed. He didn’t always read every message they sent in the group chat, especially since they could get rather loud in there. The sentiment all directed at him made him lose his words entirely.

“He’s thankful.” Biff answered for him with a softer smile. “Emotionally constipated idiot. I told you, man. Told you everyone was going to come to the same conclusion. You made a point to reach out to everyone in this room and the first thing you said to them was how you wanted to help them. First impressions aside, did you really think we were just going to take your help without wanting to give it back?”

“Man, you really are dumb if you thought that.” Boyf teased. “It’s okay, you’re still the smartest one. Probably. Blame yourself for getting us so addicted to your hugs. As if we weren’t going to start caring about you when you were so insistent to give out such affection.”

“Dude thought giving hugs to the group of idiots who are suckers for physical touch wasn’t going to make us care about him too.” Beefer snorted. “Are we sure we can call this guy the smartest?”

God I hate all of these idiots… no I don’t. YS thought, almost cringing at how fast he went back on his own thought. “Well it wasn’t originally part of my plan to make you guys care about me, I was making the support network for everyone else. So that you’d care about each other.”

“So you’re extra dumb then, because that was not fucking happening.” Stubbornness, the universal attribute. Peacock was a victim to it as much as the rest were.

So… did he have seven little brothers now? What a chaotic family. YS supposed one of them could have been joking and he just wouldn’t know. If they were serious about it, he was too scared to ask still. They’d have to talk to him about it like Boyf and Beef had. He felt a little guilty for forcing them to be the first to bring it up when realistically he wanted to be able to treat them all the same like that. Talk about being addicted, he was addicted to the idea of being family. Addicted to being kind to them, addicted to the idea he’d get so much more affection turned his way if he could just be honest and ask about the brother stuff.

They were all looking at him with soft looks, expressions also teasing for some of them.

They’re so determined and happy to do this. YS thought, a twinge of guilt stabbing through his chest. I can’t tell them what I’d planned for the support network when I connected enough of them… They care too much about me now, I can’t tell them I was supposed to be… gone… by now.

They didn’t need to know. That plan had gone out the window weeks ago anyway. YS knew he cared too much, as selfish as it was. But now, knowing how much they cared about him too? He couldn’t. And it was fine. They didn’t need to know the extent of it. It was fine.

YS was sure they could tell how much he cared about them all by now anyways. Apparently he was terrible at hiding the joy from his face.

#rgbfverse #8 dumbasses in a room #never let me do all 8 again my brain hurts and I might've mischaracterized in my own stupid haze

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lilacsnid · 1 year ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐦 | 𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙔: Y/N has been assigned on a solo undercover mission. Infiltrate the warehouse, secure the flash drive, and evade detection; seems simple enough. But what happens if she gets caught by a dangerous criminal & her life hangs in the balance?

𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙨: she/her pronouns used, mentions of violence, blood & gore, near death experience, guns & shooting.

𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨: this is a work of fiction; any names, characters from slow horses, places & incidents will either be a product of my imagination or used fictionally.

✘ ✘ ✘ ✘

“You’re not going,” River's voice cut through the space, making Y/N flinch in surprise as she stood at her locker in the team room.

She glanced over her shoulder, finding River standing in the doorway, his expression stern and his arms crossed.

All she could do was scoff in response, turning back around to face the wall as she rolled her eyes at him. “And since when have you been the boss of me, hey Cartwright?”

“You do realize how dangerous it is going after this guy by yourself? He could be armed, you don’t know what he might have waiting for you,” His concern was evident and his gaze remained locked on her, even as she turned away.

“I’m a big girl,” Y/N retorted, trying to maintain her composure, “Besides, it’s an undercover mission. All I need is that hard drive, I’ll be in and out before he even knows I’m there.”

River sighed, the weight of worry apparent in his features. “And what if he’s there waiting for you?”

“He won’t be, I’ll make sure of it,” She stated, closing her locker shut, the sound echoing throughout the room. There was a sense of finality in her actions.

He watched her prepare, tightening her holster and checking her gun. But his concern remained, and he refused to back down.

“No, look-“ He stepped away from the door, closing the distance between them. “You can’t go, it’s too risky. Let me go, alright? I’ll cover for you with Lamb.”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed at his words, her frustration starting to get the better of her. “Fuck off! This mission was assigned to me, okay? And I don’t need you to make my choices for me.”

“This guy is dangerous, do you understand?!” River raised his voice, the intensity in his words mirrored the concern that etched across his face.

She shrugged, attempting to mask the nerves that she was beginning have. “And so what if he is? It’s nothing any of us haven’t handled before.”

“What if you get hurt?” His voice softened, the tension in the air was thick and heavy as they stood face to face, only mere inches away from one another.

Y/N's eyes turned glassy, her emotions slowly coming to the surface. “Why do you care?”

His shock was evident as it seemed his words failed him for a brief moment. Because despite the nonchalant exterior he always perceived, the truth was that he did care. Very deeply. He cared about her safety more than he could express. He wanted to protect her, to be the one in harm's way instead.

“I-well,” He struggled to find the right words, their proximity heightening the intensity between them.

Y/N closed her eyes briefly, checking her watch as she let out a sigh, “I have to go.”

River held her gaze as she walked past him, “I’ll be on OBS the entire time with Ho, just in case. Good luck.”

She nodded silently, the weight of their unspoken feelings lingering in the air as she turned and walked away, leaving River with his worry and concern that had been gnawing at him, hoping against hope that she would return safely.

✘ ✘ ✘ ✘

Y/N pulled up in her car, parking a few buildings away from the location. The mission instructions were simple: infiltrate the warehouse, secure the flash drive, and evade detection. The night enveloped her, and the lack of streetlights provided cover as she hugged the shadows, using the darkness to her advantage.

As she approached the warehouse, she did her routine check in with Ho who was on observation with Louisa and River back at Slough House.

“Alpha One to Base,” Y/N pressed against her radio that was strapped to the inside of her stab proof vest, waiting for a response from control.

She inhaled deeply, scanning her surroundings before a response crackled through her earpiece. “Copy, go ahead Alpha One,” Louisa's voice sounded in her ear.

“I have visual on the target building,” Y/N reported, eyes fixed forward, “On foot and approaching.”

“Alpha One, received,” Louisa acknowledged.

As Y/N drew closer to the building, she couldn't shake the unnerving atmosphere surrounding the warehouse. It was concealed from the bustling streets of London, a secluded spot that was perfect for an escaped criminal trying to lay low whilst still carrying out operations.

“Alpha One to Base, I’m outside the warehouse on Carrington Street,” Y/N whispered into her radio, glancing cautiously at her surroundings, “So far so good.”

“Understood, Alpha One,” Louisa advised, her voice a reminder of the potential danger, “Avoid trouble if possible and stay alert. This bloke’s a right nasty twat, best to keep out of sight.”

Before Y/N could respond, she heard River’s reassuring voice filtering through her earpiece, a sense of comfort settling over her at the thought of his watchful presence.

“Remember, Alpha One, Ho’s hacked into the CCTV. No one inside will have access to the surveillance, but we'll have eyes on you,” His voice conveyed a calm authority as Y/N glanced up at the cameras scanning the warehouse's exterior.

“Roger that, out,” She affirmed with a nod.

Despite being briefed on the warehouse's layout, Y/N began to feel overwhelmed. It was far larger than anticipated, with more rooms than she remembered from the briefing. Despite the team back at Slough House watching via the camera system, there was an eerie stillness that lingered, and she couldn't shake the feeling of another presence.

As she opened the door to the expansive warehouse, the power abruptly cut. Darkness enveloped her, forcing her to rely on her adjusting vision.

"Alpha One, do you copy?" River's voice crackled through her radio.

"Yeah—" Her response was cut short as a strong arm seized her, a hand clamping over her mouth.

River jolted forward, his eyes fixed on the screen that had now been dark for the last few minutes, silently waiting for Y/N to respond. His fingers pressed against his lips as he whispered urgently, "Come on, Y/N, answer your bloody radio."

The insufferable silence dragged on, his anxiety growing by the minute. With no visual on her, the tension lingered throughout the small room, the only sound being the audible breaths through their headsets. River's gaze remained glued to the screens, leaning closer to catch any faint sound.

He could feel his heart beating hard against his chest as her whimpers suddenly pierced through the radio. "Alpha One, do you copy?" He asked once again, attempting to mask his worry as he stared intently at the monitors, awaiting a response. A surge of relief hit him as he heard the sound of her voice.

But then he then froze at her words. "H-He’s…he’s going to kill me," Y/N's voice crackled before the line abruptly went dead.

It was then as if time was moving in slow motion. River threw off his headset and snatched his gun from the desk in front of him. “Louisa, call it in!”

His hands shook as the adrenaline shot through him, running as fast as he could out of Slough House and into his car. Louisa followed suit, jumping into the passenger seat as she called for reinforcements. His foot slammed down on the accelerator, weaving through traffic with urgency. Y/N's words echoed in his mind, relentless and haunting as they played on a loop in his mind. As he got lost in his thoughts, he barely registered Louisa's attempts to reassure him.

"She’ll be alright," Louisa offered solace.

He shook his head, completely consumed by determination. "No, she shouldn’t have even been there in the first place!"

He honked at obstructing cars, muttering under his breath, "She can’t die, she can’t die. She can’t."

As they pulled up outside the location of the warehouse, a number of police units were already on scene. River ran up to one of the commanding officers, showing his I.D as he spoke. "Agent Cartwright. What’s going on? Has anyone been sent in?"

The officer hesitated, “We’re still awaiting authorization and are assessing the situation.”

River's frustration erupted as he squared up at the officer. "Assessing what?! She’s service, she might die. What the fuck are you waiting for?!"

"River, stop!" Louisa's grip tightened on his shoulder, but he was already turning away.

Y/N's voice echoed relentlessly through his head as he turned to look at the building she was being held in. Frustration boiled over, and before anyone could stop him, he muttered fuck this and ran into the warehouse with his weapon drawn.

✘ ✘ ✘ ✘

“I’ve had enough of you fucking stupid agents trying to take what’s mine,” the man hissed into Y/N's ear, his grip tightening around her neck. She tried to respond but was instead violently thrown to the ground, a groan escaping her lips upon impact with the unforgiving concrete. Her head throbbed painfully from the impact, sending jolts of pain through her.

Despite her distress, the man continued his assault, his glare unrelenting as he completely unleashed.

He began to kick her in the stomach with the brute force of his foot, yelling in-between kicks, “Always getting in the fucking way!”

A part of her wished she was dead already. She felt like she was in the depths of hell and the pain that was running through her body was beyond excruciating, she was terrified.

He lurched forward and picked her body up like it was a rag doll, throwing her against the wall with his hands gripped around her throat, beginning to choke her. She mustered up whatever strength she had left and clawed desperately at his hands, trying anything to get him to stop.

He threw her to the ground again, causing her to cry out in pain. He then grabbed her by her vest, forcing her to stand to her feet. His grip supported her weakened form, preventing her from crumbling to the ground.

“And now,” He seethed with gritted teeth as he snatched her gun from her waist and pointed it into her side, “You’re going to die.”

A voice boomed through the empty warehouse, one that Y/N recognised.

“MI5! Drop your weapon!”

"River," she managed, her voice only a fragile whisper.

The sound of a gunshot then shattered through the air, and she felt like her body was on fire. The pain was intense and was coursing through her veins, leaving her gasping for breath. She let out a scream, knowing in that moment that she had just been shot.

River heard her cries and didn’t hesitate. He pulled the trigger of his gun, another bullet ringing throughout the warehouse, striking her attacker and making him drop to the floor, completely motionless.

“Y/N!” He yelled, rushing over to where her body was sprawled on the floor. He fumbled for his phone with trembling hands before dialling 999.

“Cartwright, agent number 5263. I need immediate medical assistance. Warehouse on Carrington Street. I have an officer down, gunshot wound to the torso. She’s in a really bad way.” He relayed to the operator, his breaths ragged.

Dropping to his knees beside her, River’s hands shook as he checked for a pulse. His voice quivered as he called her name once again. He sat down behind her with tears blurring his vision as he pulled her close to him, cradling her as his heart wrenched with regret.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” He implored, brushing the stray strands of hair away from her face, “Open your eyes for me, come on!”

He heard her let out a slight gasp, her eyelids fluttering open slowly as she glanced up at him. "River," she choked, her voice strained as she was struggling to breathe. "You're here."

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Help’s coming, I just need you to stay with me, okay?” He pleaded, ripping off her stab-proof vest, and pressing his hand firmly to her side to apply pressure to her gunshot wound.

She cried out in pain, tears starting to pool in her eyes as she fought to focus on him. “I’m… I’m,” she struggled, each word a heavy wheeze as she could feel her strength starting to leave her.

River shushed her gently, wrapping his free arm around her, “Hey, just try not to talk.”

She could hear the distinct quiver in his voice, a vulnerability she had never witnessed in him before. As he held her, she could feel him shaking. She weakly reached for his hand, a fragile connection in that harrowing moment. Meeting her gaze, he gently squeezed her hand back.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, his voice breaking, “I should never of left you go alone.”

"It’s okay," she murmured, her voice barely audible, "You're here now."

River held her close, tears streaming down his face, whispering words of reassurance, pleading for her to hold on as they waited for the ambulance to arrive. He applied more pressure to her side with his hand, taking notice of the blood that had stained his hands and his gaze fixated on her closed eyes.

“No, hey,” He pleaded as he shook her gently, desperately trying to get her to open her eyes, “You need to stay awake, come on.”

“I….can’t,” She uttered slowly, her breath beginning to leave her as she struggled to speak.

“No, you have to!” River’s voice rose in urgency, pulling her up against him, “Please, Y/N.”

Gasping for air, she spoke softly, her breaths growing shallow. "I'm scared."

“It’s okay,” He assured her, his voice soft as he whispered in her ear, “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

"Y/N?" His voice trembled, panic clawing at his chest as he felt her growing limp in his arms, unresponsive.

"No!" His cry echoed, holding her tightly. "Come on, Y/N! Please!"

Tears flowed down his face as he fought to keep her awake, searching desperately for any sign of life. "Stay with me, Y/N. Please, stay with me."

Through the windows, blue lights and sirens pierced through the darkness, signalling the arrival of help. River heard his name being called as the doors were opened. His heart raced, but his gaze remained solely on the girl in his arms.

"We're here!" he called out, desperation lacing his voice. "Help!"

River stood by, feeling utterly helpless as he watched the paramedics swiftly take charge, assessing Y/N and lifting her up onto the stretcher. His eyes stayed fixed on her, a mixture of dread and determination etched across his features.

“Is she going to be okay?” He asked as he walked alongside the stretcher, his steps matching the hurried pace of the paramedics as they loaded her into the ambulance. His hand reached out, wanting to hold hers, but he restrained himself.

“We’re doing everything we can,” One of the paramedics spoke, “But she needs to get to hospital now.”

“You go with her,” Louisa spoke gently from where she stood beside him, patting his back reassuringly, “I’ll meet you there.”

Inside the ambulance, River sat beside Y/N, his gaze never leaving her. The urgency in the paramedics' actions sent a chill down his spine. They worked quickly, trying to stabilize her condition.

The abrupt sound of the heart monitor flat lining made his heart drop, and he watched in horror as the paramedic rushed around the ambulance, saying words that he didn’t understand. The tears fell silently as he watched the paramedic begin to perform chest compressions on her as they neared the hospital. There was no longer any doubt that she was now fighting for her life. River just prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that she would live to survive another day.

He felt a knot tighten in his chest, a sense of powerlessness starting to overwhelm him. His hands trembled, fingers tightly clenched into fists, a silent plea echoing in his mind, willing her to hold on.

✘ ✘ ✘ ✘

Louisa called the office number to Slough House, informing everyone of Y/N’s condition before making her way to the hospital to meet River. After asking for directions from the front desk, she navigated her way through the corridors until she eventually found him in a waiting room, hunched over in a chair with his head in his hands.

"Hey," she spoke softly, causing River to lift his head. His eyes were bloodshot eyes and his appearance dishevelled.

"How is she? What's going on?" Louisa's asked, concern evident in her voice.

He shook his head, inhaling deeply, trying to gather his thoughts. "I don't know. She's in surgery. They've asked me to wait here. It might take hours... I just... I don't know."

"Why?" Louisa inquired.

He shook his head again as his breathing hitched, “The nurse said they are having to remove her spleen and something about a haemorrhage, the bullet didn’t leave an exit wound.”

Louisa, taken aback by the severity of the situation, murmured softly to herself. She stole a glance at River, taking notice of the silent tears tracing down his face as he stared down at the floor.

“What is it?” She pressed, sensing there was something else he needed to say.

River drew a shaky breath in, his gaze distant and eyes glassy, “Her heart stopped beating, they had to resuscitate her twice in the ambulance. So, I don’t know.”

Louisa pulled him into a brief hug, offering him a small moment of comfort before he pulled away, collecting himself with a sharp breath.

"Would you like a break? I can stay here if you need some time," Louisa offered, concern etched in her words. But he shook his head, his mind already being made up.

"No," he replied, settling back down into his seat. "I'm not going anywhere. I don’t care how long it takes, I need to know if she’s going to make it.”

✘ ✘ ✘ ✘

As the night wore on, the whole of Slough House slowly started pouring into the waiting room. Six long hours had passed with an almost agonising sense of anticipation and uncertainty as Y/N remained in theatre, doctors desperately trying to save her life.

River remained seated in the same spot he'd occupied throughout the night, his leg nervously bouncing up and down in an agitated rhythm as he stared into the void. Raising his hands slightly, he glanced at the lingering traces of blood staining his palms, a harsh reminder of the whole ordeal. Thoughts of her consumed him, and the fear of losing someone he cared about gnawed at his core like never before, he had never felt so scared of losing someone.

It had felt like an eternity before the surgeon had finally entered the waiting room, full of Y/N’s colleges and friends. An anxious anticipation filled the room as he took off his surgical scrub cap, everyone standing to their feet and looking at him expectantly.

"She's pulled through the surgery," The surgeon announced, a collective exhale of relief echoing through the space. River, overwhelmed with emotion, closed his eyes briefly and sighed in relief. She had survived; she was alive.

“But she has been under anaesthetic for a long time, so it might be a while before she wakes up. You’re all welcome to wait here.” He said before nodding and exiting the room, leaving everyone to their own devices.

Gradually, one by one, the others departed for the night, leaving only River and Louisa behind. A nurse eventually approached them with the long-awaited news that Y/N had woken up and that they were finally allowed to see her.

As the pair neared her room in the ICU, River stopped in his tracks as he caught sight of her small and fragile figure resting on the hospital bed, a wave of different emotions crashing over him.

"You go ahead," He murmured to Louisa, his voice strained. "I just need a minute."

Leaning against the corridor wall, he desperately tried to gather his thoughts, taking a few minutes to compose himself. Just mere moments later, Louisa emerged from the room, wearing a gentle smile.

"I'm heading out," She informed, slipping on her coat and gesturing towards the room. "She's asking for you."

He managed to shoot her a faint smile, watching and thanking Louisa as she left, leaving him alone to gather his thoughts again before stepping into the room.

He stepped inside, taking note of how quiet the room was, the only noise to be heard was the beeping of machines. Y/N's eyes fluttered open as she sensed his presence, a faint smile touching her lips as she glanced over at him.

“Hey,” she whispered softly into the silence.

River took a deep breath as he lingered in the doorway, “Hey yourself.”

He approached her bedside, his voice faltering for a moment, “You know, you scared the shit out of us all today, you nearly died.”

"You know me, always the dramatic," She joked, wincing from a shooting pain in her broken ribs as she attempted to laugh.

River chuckled softly, shifting his weight uneasily as his gaze drifted over the array of tubes and the IV connected to her. A number of bruises scattered on her skin, with cuts littering on her face and neck.

She watched as he shook his head and followed his gaze downward. When his eyes met hers again, she noticed the stray tear that fell down his cheek. The memories from the incident flooded back to her almost instantly. She remembered him crying, the fear in his voice and his desperate attempts to keep her alive from the moment he had found her.

“I thought,” River sighed, “I thought I had lost you.”

She smiled softly, shaking her head gently, “You’re stuck with me.”

He watched as she lifted her hand, reaching out and beckoning for him to come closer. He sniffled as he closed the gap between them, gently clasping his hand in hers.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, intertwining their fingers as he stared down at them, a small smile tugging on his lips.

She shrugged lightly, “As good as one can be after nearly dying.”

“You almost did, Y/N,” River murmured, letting out a sigh.

"But I didn't," She countered, gently stroking the back of his hand with her thumb, "You made sure of that."

"I don't think I'll ever want to let you out of my sight again." Another smile formed as he spoke, but his voice held a somewhat serious tone.

Upon returning the smile, she took careful notice of his appearance and glanced at the traces of her blood that still stained his hands.

“Have you been here all night?” She asked, her brows furrowed in confusion as she waited for him to respond.

He nodded, clearing his throat, “Yeah.”

She shot him a perplexed look, “It’s been hours, you must be exhausted!”

River shook his head, his eyes filled with an intensity, “I’m fine, okay? I had to. I needed to see you.”

A silence settled between them, a fragile moment full of uncertainty. He kept her hand in his, his touch gentle and filled with unspoken emotions.

“Look, I uh- need to tell you something,” River's voice trembled slightly, as he held her gaze, “I should've said it sooner, but I couldn't... I care about you, Y/N. More than I've ever admitted. You mean everything to me. And watching you get shot... I’ve never felt so helpless.”

Y/N's eyes glossed over with tears, her hand squeezing his in response, a silent acknowledgement of their shared emotions.

“I know,” She whispered, a faint smile tugging at her lips, “I've always known. I feel the same way.”

River sat down beside her on the bed, pulling her into his arms protectively, assured of her safety this time. As they gently pulled away from their hug, a fleeting moment passed before River found himself inching closer. His gaze met hers, silently seeking permission before he leaned in to kiss her. Their lips met in a tender, tentative kiss – both of their emotions pouring out. It was soft, as if he was scared he was going to break her. As they parted, their eyes met and their foreheads rested against one another, an unspoken understanding passing between them.

Y/N smiled, pulling his hand to rest against her chest, “Did it really take for me to almost die for you to admit that?”

River chuckled, shaking his head as he kept his forehead pressed against hers, “Yeah, probably not the best way to go about it.”

©𝙇𝙄𝙇𝘼𝘾𝙎𝙉𝙄𝘿

4080 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨

#river cartwright #slow horses #apple tv #jack lowden #jack lowden x reader #river cartwright x reader #river x reader #slow horses fanfiction

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dramadramallama · 11 months ago

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Love Supremacy - brain rot part 1

So I have a problem. I enjoyed the first half of Love for Love's Sake without knowing I would get absolutely bowled over by the second half. I have so much to say holy fuck, I'm all over the place.

Unfortunately for everyone, my brain has been love supremacied, and I'm unable to move on. The show has a high rewatch value. It’s full of details; big, important ones, and small, insignificant ones, but they all add a lot of weight to the story. I need to exorcise my thoughts for my own sake. I guess if I have to intellectualize it somewhat, I really liked the show cause it’s perfectly balanced in terms of structure, and its themes. Judging from the amount of notes I have made on this show on my second watch, it’s safe to say it’s got some substance. It cleverly uses a mise en abyme, “a story within a story (within a story)” to really stack all those layers, and answer an age-old, quite difficult question: “what’s crucial to a happy life?” Dialogues, scenes, characters, and motifs all echo, mirror, and circle back to one another, giving the story enough dimension to avoid banalities.

Simply put, the thesis of the show is surprisingly philosophical, with universal themes. It posits that life is neither fate nor chance, and the answers are in mundane details of life. "Happiness is hidden somewhere in each of our days."

It’s obviously about love; a double love story even. Myung-ha learns to love someone else, and himself too. It's about life, and it's about death, new beginnings, and everything in between. The show made me feel like this, and like this, and like this, and...

▶️1. Mirrors/Symmetry

2. Fate, Free Will, and Happiness

3. Game/Reality

The story structure is very symmetrical. Circular almost. I LOVE IT, I EAT IT UP LIKE A HUNGRY, GRUBBY GOBLIN. Things begin where they end, elements keep repeating themselves like a series of mirrors.

By going through the game, Myung-ha finds himself on the other side of the mirror: he is supposed to find his own happiness, and will to live.

Yeo-woon is introduced to the audience as a sad side character in someone else’s story, victim of his “fate.” He almost perfectly mirrors Myung-ha: his background is eerily similar to his. He was raised by his (recently deceased) grandma, with an absent mother and a dead-beat dad. He’s lonely, unhappy.

When Myung-ha first meets him, Yeo-woon is resolutely standing on top of a building, about to fall or jump, which directly parallels Myung-ha's own suicide. In this new iteration of life, in this “game,” he saves Yeo-woon from hurting himself, which is the start of his own salvation. Saving Yeo-woon, the poor guy who didn’t get his happy ending, is saving himself. Yeo-woon is like a version of him right before he lost control of his life, after his grandma died, and he felt abandoned by all. It’s the core of the game, and the core of the drama, but Myung-ha (and we, the audience) can’t understand it right away.

Several details, in retrospect, show that he is the driving force behind this "game", and that it’s, by lack of a better term, both a test (as in, an exercise, a learning mechanism) and a Test (as in, an exam you don't wanna fail.) Myung-ha’s main, most important mission is to “make Yeo-woon happy.” Which he happily and enthusiastically tackles. He does what we all do: he takes a liking to the character most relatable to him. Time and time again, the way he reacts when presented with someone who struggles the same way he did is very telling.

He provides comfort. The comfort he lacked in his own life. (distant sounds of my heart shattering.)

But Yeo-woon isn’t the only one mirroring elements of Myung-ha’s life. Sang-won is a careless, tough-looking student, who seems slightly directionless. He picks fights easily and has a reputation at school for being “crazy.” He also smokes and rides a motorcycle (both illegal lol). His mom having abandoned Myung-ha, it’s also relevant to note Sang-won doesn’t seem to have a very good relationship with his own mother, and craves her attention. Although, he is your typical badboy, he is overall nice, sensitive, and has good intentions.

Myung-ha himelf appears to have been quite the turbulent student, with his own “mad dog” nickname. He, just like Sang-won, knows a thing or two about school fights, also drives a bike (lmao 100% sure he didn’t wait to have a license to drive though). Although he berates Sang-won for his rebellious side, with the patronizing tone of someone who’s done it all before, he shows genuine care.

Finally, Kyung-hoon. To me, he’s like another facet of Myung-ha’s personality. An absolute sweetheart, without friends, but always ready to help, and open to be befriended. While Myung-ha seems nonchalant about speaking badly of himself, he cannot stand it from others. He makes him his friend on the spot.

Once again, he provides like-minded friends the safe space he probably would have liked as a troubled, most certainly depressed teenager. Of course, it turns out Yeo-woon hates himself the most too (and by extension, dislikes everyone else.) It's the first clue for Myung-ha to realize some self-love might be the answer.

As it will become increasingly clear, Myung-ha has no issues protecting, providing for, and loving others, but fails to realize he should do the same for himself to achieve balance, and maybe, a little bit of happiness. The journey to get there makes him care for someone else the way he should care for himself, love someone else, like he should love himself.

The last episode does a wonderful job of confirming what seemed to be threaded through the whole show, and explaining very clearly, in no uncertain terms, what it was all about.

However, the interesting aspect of this “mirror world," is that all of them, and Yeo-woon in particular, flip the script, in more ways than one. They all are a reflection of Myung-ha's life, but transcend their condition of “fictional character.” They’re not virtual. Yeo-woon is not made of something unreal, and he’s not a messed up copy of someone else. He has his own needs, desires, and quirks.

I don't think I can name them all here, but one of my favorite circular storytelling moment happens when Yeo-woon parallels Myung-ha by running to "find his fave." That moment in ep 8 counterbalances the one in ep 1.

Nothing is written in stone, and both of them set off to build their own happiness, against fate.

#love for love's sake #lfls #love supremacy zone #love for love's sake meta #the number of rambling sections i had to cut out #i'm feral :(#there's a part 2 and 3 coming too like i need help

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noobiestnoober · 6 months ago

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A Complicated Love (Reader x Damon x Elena)

The story is set in 1994 Prison World, when Y/N (female) is a character in TVD who is stuck with Bonnie and Damon and starts developing feelings for Damon Salvatore and vice versa, despite Damon being still in love with Elena.

This is my first time posting a one-shot fanfic. I hope you enjoy it. <3

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

Prison World

Y/N didn't anticipate that she'd find herself in such a place as Prison World, a desolate, eerie double of Mystic Falls. It was supposed to be another Mystic Falls mission, with her tagging along with Bonnie and Damon. They found themselves in this alternative dimension, lost in the fight for survival, and most desperately struggling to find a way out. Days turned into weeks, and finally, weeks into months. During all of this, Y/N looked to Bonnie and Damon. They developed a connection out of difficult circumstances, and mutual reliance on each other's strength went beyond friendship. Weeks became months, and Y/N, well aware that Damon had affection for Elena, began to harbour feelings for him.

It complicated their bond even more now that they shared their days with another prisoner in the world: Kai Parker, a sociopathic but kind-of-charming guy who seemed to be thoroughly dangerous. Kai took an interest in Y/N from the first day, and his flirtatious ways and smooth talking made Y/N's skin crawl. Damon saw how Kai wouldn't let up with the flirting, and he felt something rise inside him towards Y/N, but he would shake it off.

One evening, Damon stood in between Kai and Y/N when Kai pushed too close.

"Stay out of it, Kai," Damon's eyes flashed furiously.

Kai grinned, flinging his palms up in a fictitious surrender. "What? I'm simply enjoying myself a little.”

"Fun's over," Damon yelled. "Get someone else to torture."

Kai turned to leave, grinning, and Y/N thankfully glanced at Damon,"Okay, Damon. I appreciate your help, but I can manage Kai."

Damon eventually turned to look down at her, "Yes, you can take care of yourself. I know. I don't want you to suffer, though.”

A wave of feeling came over Damon like a tsunami when he gazed into her eyes at that same instant. He cared about Y/N deeply, more than he had allowed himself to admit. It wasn't just about protecting her; it was about falling in love with her. He found himself in love with Y/N, and the thought both exhilarated and terrified him.

They eventually succeeded in getting out of Prison World and back to Mystic Falls. Now entangled, their complex feelings overshadowed their relief at returning. Elena was completely unaware of the growing bond between them as Damon and Y/N struggled to balance their newly formed feelings against the implications of their return.

______________________________________________________________

Salvatore Boarding House

One could cut the tension in Salvatore Boarding House with a knife. Damon was pacing and agitated, his unusual vulnerability taking precedence over his confidence. Arms crossed, Y/N stood by the hearth, trying to make sense of the tornado of feelings rolling deep within her.

"You can't love me, Damon," Y/N said. And even her voice seemed to shake a bit, "You are in love already!"

Stopping his incessant pacing of the room, Damon slowly faced her, and his deep, piercing blue eyes contrasted fiercely, “Who said I could only love one person?”

The heart in Y/N leaped furiously. While she knew Damon had a difficult past with Elena, she also knew he harboured affection for her.

"Damon, this treatment isn't fair to anyone. This is unfair to Elena, to you, and to me."

Damon took a step closer, his expression earnest, "Y/N, I can't deny my feelings for you. But loving Elena doesn't lessen what I feel for you. My heart is big enough for both of you."

She could feel a lump developing in her throat. "This is much more complex. This will be hurting a lot of people."

Damon takes her hands in his, “Maybe. Love is never easy, I've learned. It's a messy thing with twists and turns, but that makes it more real. In the least."

Tears formed in Y/N's eyes as she looked at him for any signs of hesitation, “Are you sure? That this might… work out? And that we'd be able to move past these feelings without completely falling apart?"

With that, Damon tightened his grip just a bit, "The real question, Y/N, is: Do you love me?"

Y/N's breath hitched. She had been avoiding this question, afraid of what it might mean. But Damon was right in front of her, his vulnerability exposed, and she could not dispute the facts, “Damon, I do, for sure. Still, I fear that..."

Damon drew her into his arms and held her there, "So am I. We could, however, manage to go through this together. Someway."

Y/N felt him open, in his arms at last, felt the warmth and power of his hug, and buried her face in his chest, “I know I want to be with you, even though I don't know what tomorrow may bring."

Heart pounding with both terror and hope, Damon kissed the top of her head, "You and I will work everything out. One step at a time."

They knew the road would be difficult, but they had each other to inspire them to face whatever came next. Just as they were about to turn around, they heard a soft creak. Both turned to see Elena at the room entrance, her face white, eyes widen in shock, and shining with moisture. She had heard everything.

"Damon," Elena whispered, and her voice broke, "Is it true? Do you love Y/N?"

Damon's heart sank at the hurt in Elena's eyes. He let go of Y/N and took a step towards Elena, "Elena, I..."

Elena shook her head; tears streamed down her cheeks. "I thought… I thought we were working things out. And now, I don't know what to think."

Y/N flinched, stepping back. She couldn't bear to come in-between Damon and Elena. Partly feeling guilty.

Damon struggled with conflicting emotions, "I really do love you, Elena," Damon said in a raspy voice, "Still, I love Y/N as well. Even though it didn't happen as planned, it did. What can I do!?"

With a wipe of her tears, Elena tried to gather herself, "You're going to have to choose Damon. This isn't fair to any of us."

He looked helplessly from Elena to Y/N. He had loved them both. He loved them both deeply, yet he was unable to hold onto them both. He had to make a choice, and it was tearing him apart.

At last, Damon muttered, "I need some time to think." His voice was almost audible above a whisper, "I have to think what is best for every one of us."

Slowly nodding, Elena says in a sad tone, “You take your time, Damon. Please do not keep us waiting for too long.”

Elena turned and left, and Y/N watched, both relieved and saddened. She knew that it was far from over, and whatever choice Damon made would change their lives forever.

Standing there by himself and torn, Damon understood how difficult and messy love was. And someone would suffer no matter what decision he took.

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the-misfit-star · 2 years ago

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Cookie run x reader who's like the collector(toh) pt.2

●This story will include Twizzly Gummy Cookie , Time keeper cookie, Pancake cookie, and captain Ice cookie

●Again the relationship between you is strictly platonic

●Readers pronouns are they/them

●Some parts will not include you telling your back-story because I don't know what to make certain characters respond.

⭐Twizzly Gummy Cookie 💥

● I don't even know where to start with you two.

●Twizzly Gummy Cookie is pure chaos so clearly you two fit each other perfectly.

●Two energetic mayhem creating besties!

●You like time jumping with her and her crew and distoy worlds with her.

● You hate it when the T.B.D (Time Balance Department) ruins your fun creating danger in the other worlds. I mean seriously! It's not your fault you were bored and wanted something exciting to do with your friends!

● She thinks your powers are perfect for creating chaos and danger in other dimensions. Imagine all the mayhem you can cause with your magic!

● I headcannon that both of you have anger issues and destroy everything in sight of you. So if you're going to be angry then atlest destroy something with her to make you a little more . . .calmed down?

● Your relationship with her is like little sibling and older sister. (Except you're technically older than her) And I mean she's a cool older sister and not a lame one.

● "I HATE the T.B.D they're always ruin our fun !"

● "I wish I just get rid of them! Permanently!"

● "Yeah me too- Wait. Y/N cookie you could just use your powers to destroy them!"

● "You're right Twizzly I could use my powers to get rid of them! But they would just find a way to stop me . . ."

● ". . . Well, I wouldn't hurt to try!"

⚙Timekeeper cookie ⚙

● If you're the Collector then she's Bill cipher.

● She can literally travel and alter time, she practically unstoppable. Just like you!

● At this point no one can stop stop you because Timekeeper can just change the past to make sure that cookie was never made.

● The members of the T.B.D are so scared of you two for a lot of reasons. I mean honestly

● A very powerful deity child and a unstable cookie who can travel through time, even having the power to bend and change it at will? Who wouldn't be scared?

● If you wanted to change your past, all you have to do is tell Timekeeper cookie and you'll forget everything! And everyone who wronged you! All you you have to do is ask

● Overall a fantastic cookie to play with if you get bored! (And God knows NOBODY wants to remember the last time you were bored. Everyone was atlest a little bit traumatized after that)

● " Y/N cookie, we should go back in time to undo all previous mistakes you have and will do!"

● " Timekeeper doesn't that sound kinda dangerous? I mean what if we undo something that cause a "time rip" or whatever?"

● "Exactly. That's what makes it fun."

●"Okay!"

🥞Pancake cookie 🌰

● He is just as enthusiastic and energetic as you! 9/10 friend! (It would be 10/10 if he didn't ask you for stuff all the time . . .)

● The best part of being his friend is the fact that he always wants to do something fun with you!

● You always do stuff for him, that is what best friend do right? Always do things for each other?

● I mean, you do always play his games, and he likes to play your games to so clearly you guys are good friends!

● You find it silly that he depends so much on other cookies when you're right here!

● Oh, he wants Acorn jellies? : you can just snap your fingers and make some appear. He wants to fly? : you can easily just give him the ability simply by clapping!

● Honestly it's so funny how he could want any other friends when you're literally the best in the galaxy!

● " AHHH- Y/N cookie put me down!"

● " Hey! You said you wanted to go higher!"

● "I didn't want to go this high!"

🧊Captain Ice cookie❄

● Just like Pure Vanilla cookie, she's a mother figure to you.

● She doesn't trust you around or to be honest touching the ship.

● Even though you're powerful you still look and overall act like a child, and especially since the ship has a lot of dangerous objects it's not that much of a shock she doesn't trust you.

● You constantly explain that you're " mature enough" to at least be on the ship! If you broke anything you could just use your powers to fix it!

● She gets tired of you constantl complaining.

● Her crew likes you though! They think that you could just snap away any threats! But she thinks differently.

● Eventually when you DO manage to convince her enough to let you on the ship she has very, very , VERY strict rules about what you can and can't do. (Most of them being not touching anything)

● It just gets very boring.

● "Y/N COOKIE! You are not permitted to touch that!"

"I wasn't even gonna do anything!"

● "That does not mean I trust you anywhere near a canon."

"UGH! You're rules are so boring! It's not my fault for being bored on your dumb ship. . ."

● " . . . Go to time out . . ."

● "BUT I DIDN'T EVEN-"

●"GO to time out."

● You learned not to question her authority even if you were more powerful than her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Fin~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N : this took very long to write but I'm glad it's finally done :) I also don't think I will make part 3 of this because I'm making fanfics for other fandoms but if I do make part 3 there will be about 2-4 I will write for 💛

#cookie run x reader #child!reader #deity!reader #toh the collector x reader #toh collector #crk x reader #crob #this took longer than it should have

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marley-manson · 6 months ago

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BJ Papa San may be about BJ but as a Hawkeye fan first MASH fan second my main takeaway from the episode is the way Hawkeye cautions BJ about getting too emotionally invested.

He's a bit player in BJ's plotline so I doubt it's meant to significantly reflect on him as a character - someone needs to caution BJ against getting too involved for the sake of foreshadowing - but it's interesting. Like, he's speaking from experience, but not experience he's since tempered himself lol. He still gets too emotionally invested. I mean, a few episodes after this he mutilates a colonel to save a hundred kids <3

I think partly it's another instance of Hawkeye giving advice tailored to a person in a specific situation, regardless of whether he personally follows it. BJ needs a warning because Hawkeye can see that he's setting himself up for an emotional blow, but that doesn't mean Hawkeye's less emotionally invested in the lives being destroyed around him lol. (In fact usually their roles are reversed, a la Give Em Hell Hawkeye, The Grim Reaper, Depressing News, Tell It to the Marines, etc)

It's also Hawkeye in the role of dude who's been here the longest warning the newer ones, the way he cautioned Charles about his insomnia in Dr Winchester Mr Hyde, or the way he occasionally played mentor to BJ in BJ's earlier seasons. It's a bit late for this dynamic between them, but it doesn't not work.

But what I think is the most interesting potential takeaway from this is that it suggests Hawkeye is self aware about his own emotional investment. Like, not necessarily, you can give advice without realizing it also applies to you lol, but Hawkeye is a self aware kind of guy, and he's demonstrated that awareness before. Like in Sometimes You Hear the Bullet when he recognizes that he was numbing himself to the situation and does a 180, wondering why he hasn't cried for everyone who's died and immediately sending Wendel back home instead of cavalierly letting him risk his life to impress his girlfriend.

There's also moments like Hawkeye describing his state of mind in Depressing News as "mania," perfectly aware that he's not in a good emotional place but rolling with it, all the dark jokes about being more like a mechanic than a doctor, his willingness to talk to a psychiatrist in several episodes, etc etc.

He's not invested in this particular family in BJ Papa San, but he gets invested in many, many other doomed causes. And I gotta wonder if in some way he picks and chooses his battles. If he can tune it out, essentially, the way he says he was doing before Tommy died in Sometimes You Hear the Bullet, but he doesn't want to be that numb to it all so he actively tries to find a balance. If maybe part of the reason he gets invested in his causes is like, as a form of emotional release, to demonstrate to himself that the constant death around him hasn't stopped him from feeling it.

After all, at the end of the episode he does tell BJ that he expects him to turn around and help someone else anyway. And that's probably also speaking from experience. It hurts to stay emotionally invested, and you can't be at full emotional investment all the time or you'd fully lose your mind in a week, but I think Hawkeye knows that getting invested in doomed causes over and over is better, like for him as a person and his own self-respect, than the alternative of keeping his head down and trying to stay as emotionally uninvolved as possible.

And it's interesting to imagine him like, semi-logically coming to this conclusion. Rather than his campaigns being pure irrational emotion, they're something he knows he has to throw himself at now and then to remain himself.

#i watched this ep a few days ago but my thoughts on hawk have been percolating since #honestly that little mini arc from callous to emotional in sometimes you hear the bullet really does inform a lot of how i see hawkeye #mash #marley on mash #hawkeye mash

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zootopiathingz · 1 year ago

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My prediction for Zootopia 2

So as I’ve mentioned in a previous post, there’s an interesting Wildehopps dynamic where Judy is more case-focused while Nick prioritizes safety, which I can maybe see being used for conflict in the next movie. (Cuz if there’s going to be conflict, it needs to be done right for development and not just for the sake of having characters argue…please take notes, Disney)

I imagine the movie starting out with the two of them working flawlessly. They know just how to take down criminals together without exchanging a word. Then one day they’re given a simple interrogation case that quickly escalates and long story short Judy ends up getting hurt. Nick rushes to help her, and she urges him to go after the criminal. He hesitates, but he doesn’t relent and ends up taking her to a first aid kit, frantically bandages her wound, then pursues the criminal along with backup. But by then it’s too late, the culprit is nowhere to be found. At first Judy’s a little frustrated, but she can’t be too mad at him for saving her. Chief Bogo, however, will be furious, and while he is sympathetic about the specific situation they were in, there’s still a dangerous mastermind on the loose. (And then there’s some kind of lecture about balancing work and safety of your partner, etc etc)

Throughout the movie there’s a sort of back-and-forth between “which is more important”, as well as some budding romance because yes. And then at some point the two are forcibly separated by The Bad Guys™️ and are forced to find a way back to each other. However these mammals have done their research. They didn’t just choose two random cops to kidnap for fun. They know who Judy and Nick are and plan to use their dependency on each other against them. For the sake of evil plot and angst the Bad People demand that Judy tell them some Important Information about whatever and when she refuses, they pull the old “if you don’t give us what we want you can say goodbye to your partner”. Naturally Judy’s intimidated by the threat, but she knows they’re just saying it to get in her head. Never let them see that they get to you, after all.

It isn’t until The Big Fight when she finds out they were not bluffing, as when she refuses again one of them ends up attacking Nick right in front of her. She frantically rushes to his side, trying not to panic as she hears the cruel words of their captors; “We warned you. It’s sad, isn’t it? Having to choose between our missions and the ones we love most? We fail either way. That’s why you’re better off working alone”

Then some kind of trap is activated in the room, with limited time until it sets off, and the Bad Bitches escape leaving the two to die tragically. Judy tries to push Nick up, but his injuries are more fatal than they appeared. He can’t move, he knows this. He urges Judy to leave while she can, to stop the criminals and return home safely. And it’s at this point Judy finally understands his point of view. If the roles were reversed he would be carrying her to safety, regardless of the matter at hand. She can’t leave him. She won’t leave him. So she helplessly begins dragging him with all her strength, forcing back tears as there’s a tiny voice in the back of her mind telling her it’s pointless and that they’ll never make it out alive together. (Insert some kind of dramatic “I can’t leave you! I love you!” scene here or something)

Somehow they’d make it out obviously, and they’d have some kind of heart-to-heart moment while he’s getting treated for his injuries. Ultimately they decide that no matter what happens from that point that they’ll put their fears aside and work together to take down the Big Bad, because that’s what they’ve always done.

#cheesy asf but I think it could work #maybe slightly less gorey/graphic considering its modern disney lol #zootopia #zootopia 2 #disney sequels #judy hopps #nick wilde #wildehopps #character analysis #movie predictions #zootopia 2 predictions #long post #lady luxo rambles

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creativriot · 1 day ago

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Oughhh considering everyone is posting their sonic 3 thoughts

Basically it was better than I expected but not exactly a cinematic replacement for SA2

-I keep seeing people referring to the “Talk about a low budget flight! No food or movies? I’m outta here!” As a snapcube reference like no babes that’s from the original game I-

-upwards akira slide goes crazy

-absolutely adored the visual nods to the Shadow the hedgehog game. Also love how it looks like they tried to get the shadow meteor to look as black-armsy as possible considering Black Doom was absolutely not going to show up here.

-I honestly feel like they executed Maria’s death the best way they could, finding a balance to have it be like…caused by GUN without having a soldier absolutely lock in his shot on a child. Bro said fuck them kids fr 💀

-while #notmygerald the writing for the dude was better than I initially anticipated.

-there are moments where the film just doesn’t feel…confident? Like it cuts to a joke after having a serious moment way too quickly instead of letting the moment sit, and it’ll flashback to a scene that wasn’t too long ago to make sure you remember what they’re talking about. Straight up the moment where Shadow points to his chest telling sonic to finish him off only for Sonic to realize what he’s done would’ve been way more impactful if it wasn’t interrupted by a flashback.

-While I would prefer to have the beast in the flesh, having the biolizard be a goofy b movie kaiju in an old film was kinda cute ngl.

-insert joke about shadows punch not being enough to kill Tom. Like yea I knew they weren’t actually gonna do it but c’mon man don’t play with me like that- (/j/j/j if you like the human characters that’s more power to you)

-as excited as I was to see the GUN Robots in love action, it wasn’t really that good of a replacement for the Final Hazard fight but like! It still did what it needed to do! And honestly I’m a sucker for robots. and honestly even though it isn’t the perfect translation to Adventure 2 to the big screen as I had wished it’s not like I can’t play SA2 anymore.

-while I’m absolutely elated they didn’t chicken out and make GUN the good guys, I feel like their moral ambiguity could’ve been fleshed out a bit more. Like initially when commander Rockwell (had to google her name lmao) was looking for the Eclipse canon key and seemed frustrated that it wasn’t on the commander I was expecting the twist to be she had plans to use it for her own goals and it was gonna be a three way race between Sonic, Egg-men and GUN.

-to be honest there are plot points and whatever that felt like they needed more time to be developed but this is a movie so whatever

- THE SCENE WHERE SHADOW LOOKS SO CONFUSED, SCARED AND HURT WHILE BEING PUT INTO CRYOSTASIS??? /pos

-personally didn’t get the scorpion Vs mantis thing? Like I get the part that they’re scientists, brains over brawn and whatever but the exact choice to execute it like that felt a lil…idk strange? But anyways I wanna believe the whole Gerald scorpion thing is a potential nod to Spinball- I wanna believe.

-dunno how to feel about Gerald’s death like as funny as just ceasing to exist was nothing is ever gonna top that he deadass canonically died by firing squad 💖

-Yea like a Pavlovian bell I started getting emotional when the soundtrack started referencing the Final Scene track from SA2. SA2 was such a good game dude I hope it gets some sort of remaster at some point. Fuck dude. But on that note THE CREDITS SAID CITY ESCAPE? I MUST BE DEAF AS FUCK I DID NOT HEAR THAT SHIT 😭

POST CREDIT THOUGHTS

-As much as I expected Eggman to get killed off because of the whole Carrey retiring situation, a tad bit bummed because In my mind the perfect metal reveal would be if sonic & co. Didn’t know, and during a confrontation with ‘eggman’ the Liquid Metal melts away to reveal our favorite metal blue boy. Alas 😔

-yea obsessed with Metal showing up in the post credits sequence. I’m not sure if it’s implied sonic went fast enough to travel to the future? But like. I’m hoping that it’s not JUST Amy and she like takesss sonic to meet her friends so we can get a live action big n cream? I heard some people hoping for blaze and like yea.

-please I need SCU big. He better have whiskers and he better be the sweetest boy under the sun.

-METAL OVERLORD IN SONIC 4 OR BUST 🗣️

-felt the shadow reveal was abit lacking. Like yea ofc they’re not gonna kill off the biggest cash cow SEGA has. They could’ve at least used the “he’s still alive” reveal to introduce at LEAST OMEGA. On that note I’m curious how they’d execute his character IF they do 🤔

TLDR JUST PLAY SONIC ADVENTURE 2 /j

#sonic #scu #sonic cinematic universe #sonic 3 #sonic 3 spoilers #sonic 3 discussion #dunno if the moments I disliked were genuine poor film choices or if I’m just expecting too much #“you’re biased/blinded by nostalgia #(Avdol voice) YES! I AM!#also keep in mind that infact my feelings abt things do in fact change #and again if you liked something I don’t congrats! /gen #more power to you : )

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