#he also keeps giving pointless advise
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hi, hello. Are you still doing requests? If that's the case, can you please do a little sketch about Fetch practicing makeup trends on Delsin and Eugene?
hiii, here you go! and thats so fun, i imagine fetch as an artist would want her makeup to really show off her style, and those two are nice subjects for experiments
#delsin wanted the coolest wings#now he has to sit there forever and wait for fetch to finish#he also keeps giving pointless advise#they ask eugene what he thinks about it#he cant see anything without his glasses#but he cant put them back on either bc its bot dry yet😭#fanart#infamous second son#delsin rowe#infamous requests#eugene sims#fetch walker#polyconduits
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He's the Calm One
“Give yourself to the dark side,” Vader advised, as he stalked through the darkened areas of the throne room. “It is the only way you can save your friends. Yes, your thoughts betray you. Your feelings for them are strong. Especially for…”
He paused.
“Your sister,” he said, interested. “So, you have a twin sister. If you will not turn to the Dark Side, then perhaps she will!”
“No!” Luke shouted, springing out of cover, lightsaber held ready.
Vader moved his own blade in a block, then stopped a moment later as he realized Luke wasn’t actually attacking.
“You mustn’t make her turn to the Dark Side,” Luke said, voice laced with urgency.
“I must not?” Vader asked. “That is not up to me-”
“No, father, that’s not what I mean,” Luke replied. “It’s a matter of safety. Personal and… galactic.”
Vader’s expression did not change, because he was wearing a helmet.
“You realize that I have no idea what you are talking about,” he said. “Who is your sister?”
Luke paused.
“Leia,” he said. “You should know that, father. Maybe now you’ll understand.”
Vader’s helmet tilted slightly.
“What?” he asked. “I never felt a thing. Her emotions never betrayed her.”
“She didn’t know,” Luke pointed out. “I didn’t know until you told me.”
“Still…” Vader mused. “The Force can be strange… but you seem insistent on keeping your sister from the Dark Side.”
“You’ve met her, haven’t you?” Luke asked.
Vader paused, giving that due consideration.
“...I suppose she would probably be suited to the Dark Side,” he said. “She would make a good apprentice.”
“You’re not listening,” Luke complained. “She would be a terrible person to have as an apprentice in the Dark Side of the Force, specifically.”
Vader attempted to glare at Luke. “You fail to understand the value of passion to the Dark Side.”
“Why have you stopped fighting?” Palpatine demanded, from the other side of the throne room.
“We are having a moment,” Vader called back. “I am attempting to turn Luke to the Dark Side by using his family members against him.”
“Very well!” Palpatine said. “Continue! That usually works.”
Vader inclined his head, slightly, the only sign of what was probably a frown under his helmet.
“I may need to think about that,” he said, under his hissing breath, then returned his attention to Luke.
Who was gesturing for emphasis.
“Maybe I’m not getting this across properly, Father,” he said. “But perhaps… you sent Han to Jabba the Hutt, didn’t you? You knew him?”
“I do not know Jabba the Hutt, son,” Vader retorted, his voice dark with rage. “I know who Jabba the Hutt is. But I fail to see the relevance.”
“As part of the plan to rescue Han, she got captured,” Luke explained. “Jabba chained her up and made her a dancing girl. The moment I began to fight during the rescue, she cut the lights and strangled him with that very chain.”
He stared into the eyes of Vader’s helmet, unblinking and unbowed. “Do you understand, Father?”
Vader considered that, then nodded, very slightly.
“I begin to see your point,” he said. “Damn.”
“If Leia turned to the Dark Side and was made an apprentice to you or the Emperor, it would be extremely bad for the health of everyone inside this room,” Luke summarized. “And also for the galaxy, more generally, though it would at least be run efficiently.”
“The Emperor has brought order to the galaxy,” Vader said, in a sort of distant voice like he wasn’t fully paying attention to the conversation.
“Have you seen how much he’s spent on pointless superweapons that get blown up by the Rebellion?” Luke shot back.
Vader held up his free hand, and for a moment Luke wondered if his father was about to use the Force… only for it to mean nothing more than a request that Luke be silent for a moment.
“...humour me, son,” Vader said. “What, exactly, is your plan here?”
“With surrendering myself to you?” Luke asked, and got a slight nod. “I hoped to be able to convince you that you’d done something wrong, and that you could realize that there was still good in you. That you were not trapped in the Dark Side, and could ��� if you truly wished it – return to the side of good.”
He paused. “...I will say, Obi-Wan and Yoda both told me it was impossible.”
“They do that,” Vader said, still sounding distracted. “And my daughter was raised by Bail and Breha, and she ended up… hm.”
“...Father?” Luke asked, after several seconds of silence had elapsed.
“I am just realizing that you are, apparently, Padme’s child of the two of you,” Vader said. “She killed Jabba the Hutt? Really?”
“Really,” Luke agreed. “Since you send Han to Jabba, we came up with a plan.”
He twirled his lightsaber. “First, I gave Jabba the droids C-3P0 and R2-D2, after concealing my lightsaber in R2. Then Leia turned in Chewbacca for the bounty, while disguised as an Ubese, and threatened to set off a bomb. Finally I came in to ask politely for Han’s release, offered Jabba one last opportunity to free us while about to be thrown into the Pit of Carkoon, and when he refused I killed… about half of Jabba’s entourage. Leia got Jabba and the other half when she rigged his sail barge to explode.”
“...this is a new feeling,” Vader said, almost to himself. “This must be paternal pride. Damn.”
“Have you turned him yet?” the Emperor called, waspishly.
“I’m working on it!” Luke called back.
Vader missed a breath, then his respirator worked overtime to recover.
“I still want to turn my daughter to the Dark Side,” he said, once he’d recovered. “But mostly to find out what would happen.”
“Fair,” Luke admitted. “I’m curious as well, but I don’t want to be in the blast radius and I’m fairly sure the entire galaxy would be the blast radius. Even if we were both trained Jedi I’d insist on being the one who came along, because I’d rather see you alive instead of a sort of faint ozone sheen in the air.”
“What is taking you so long, Vader?” Palpatine demanded, stalking over. “By this point, someone in this room should be dead. This delay is entirely tiresome!”
“All right,” Anakin replied, and pushed Palpatine off the bridge.
“...do you think that counts as dark side or not?” he added, glancing at his son. “I’m genuinely not sure, he was a very old man…”
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In healthcare, we learn a saying: "If you treat a disease, sometimes you'll win, sometimes you'll lose. If you treat a person, you'll win every time, no matter the outcome."
I can't help but extrapolate this to House and Wilson. House who has studied every infectious and genetic disease under the sun who fights and fights and fights for life, who pretends he doesn't care about his patients, who even says, "I don't get paid to treat people, I get paid to treat diseases, the fact that people have to be involved is a downfall," who admits he takes every loss personally and feels it's his fault because he failed. If he had been faster, they would have lived. If he had figured it out sooner. House who believes he deserves misery because of this, who thinks chronic pain makes him a better doctor because if he's less pliable as a person he's more likely to find The Answer when The Answer is all that matters.
On the other hand, you have Wilson. A practiced oncologist, someone who has long ago learned it is impossible to beat every disease but it is possible to bond with every patient, to the point that he advises other doctors on techniques to make bonds with their own children, because the point of medicine is in the humanity. Wilson who fights for life but also fights for comfortable death, to whom palliative medicine is no stranger. He takes hits, of course, and the losses hurt, but he also finds comfort in the journey from one space to another. He acknowledges that he believes in the In Between from life to death and though it isn't often expressed (particularly to House, as this elicits too many volatile reactions), he thinks something happens after the meatsack stops working and the chemical computer in the brain shuts off. He believes people are something more than neurons.
And their roles are foils of one another throughout the series. This is always clear in their medicinal acts. House fighting for life, searching for answers, and Wilson rolling joints, rigging PCA pumps, committing MAID illegally.
They only swap roles for each other in the finale.
In the final act of their friendship, Wilson knows he is going to die. He knows his options are shorter and painless or longer and painful. He wants painless. But House needs him. "I don't think that's a bad thing anymore," he says. He is ready to go for the long haul. He knows it isn't a cure, that he'll still die, but sometimes love is worth the pain, and more hours with House (even in agony) will be worth the pain. He's going to fight, knowing he'll lose, knowing it's pointless except to say that he spent another few months with his best friend confined to a hospital and a clean room.
And in this final act of their friendship, House knows Wilson is going to die, has spent days pleading with him just to keep fighting for more time, you could make it another two years instead of five months. Until Wilson is ready to start chemo. "You're the only one I listen to. You're smarter than me." House gives Wilson what he wants: painless and quick, the final five months spent together. House rages against the terminal acts of dying bodies all the time, but he can destroy that instinct to love Wilson better. He can make Wilson comfortable until the very end. He can treat the person, not the disease, just this once.
And that's what medicine is all about.
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Kratos, Thor and Odin realizing their feelings for you.
a/n; we start with the first time they, oh so sadly, realized they loved you. sometimes... a God loving someone is nothing but a curse for them.
Kratos
Kratos would first have no idea of his own emotions. Brushing it off simply because you were traveling with him and Atreus cared for you, which led to him also caring for you. The moment he saw you become hurt for the first time, when he realized you had to rest, and when he felt his heart constrict at the prospect of losing you, he realized what was happening. No, this is not possible. He would be bewildered by his emotions. There was no time in Kratos' life for romance or temptations because he had left that life behind and he would not give in to any desires. He also had to take care of his kid. However, watching you faintly grin at him and advise him to part ways so you wouldn't slow them down on their exploration let him forget all of his fears. It was just... an act of compassion to thank you for everything you'd done for him and his son. He couldn't, wouldn't, leave you to take care of yourself if you were hurt and alone. While out hunting, Atreus would casually touch the matter with his father, shyly expressing his admiration for you as a mother and as a person. Kratos would nod slowly, being careful not to say how he really felt for you, much to Atreus' displeasure. How could he learn to open his heart to love once more when all he allowed himself to indulge in was a gentle touch on your cheek while you were asleep?
Thor
There must be a joke here. Thor noted that he could feel his own body betray him when you complimented him, sending blood racing to his cheeks and his heart skipping a beat. In order for you to not notice any changes in his attitude, he made sure to maintain his composure and turned his face away from you. However, his atypical thank you, which he murmured very softly and almost in a whisper, revealed his entire play. He would overanalyze the scenario and conclude that you couldn't possibly be able to love someone as similar to him. He would even deceive himself into believing that you were merely being friendly if you ever flirted with him. If he told you "good job on your mission," wouldn't it appear like he was attempting to persuade you into a relationship? He is continuously on edge whenever he sees you and is wary of saying or doing anything that might put you on edge because of his new, developing affections. Wouldn't it appear as though he was attempting to seduce you if he complemented your appearance? To name a few of his thoughts in those circumstances. Little does he realize how much you genuinely adore him; he gives you a yearning glance from a distance and apologizes right away if you ever catch him gazing.
Odin
Odin experienced fear for the first time in a very long time when he first understood he was in love with you. He despised the unexpected, thus he didn't want this emotion to start developing within of him. He avoided you for a long time, sending you on pointless missions to keep you away from him in the hopes that whatever feelings he had for you would eventually fade away. Persistent feeling, he cursed at himself. Although he could blame you, he didn't want you to face any consequences for what was clearly his responsibility. He wished he had someone to blame other than himself. Odin just couldn't help himself, your personality shined for him, you were like a oasis he had been waiting for all his deserted life - a breath of fresh air. He'd be damned if anyone found out about this, even so when he had so many enemies that were way more powerful than you. The thought would make him uneasy leading to a lack of sleep, making him even more frustrated with himself - how could he fall in love with you? He'd be living a torment inside his head, a conflicting fight between wanting to make you his and protect you from all or letting you go so you had no ties with a God like him. Would you grow apart if you knew he'd choose to be selfish and pursue you?
Do not copy or translate my works.
#god of war x reader#gow x reader#odin x reader#kratos x reader#thor x reader#god of war ragnarok x reader
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Hello, Thank You For Being Here (Pt. 3)
other links: twitter | twitch | bluesky | neocities
side blogs: @toocoolforghoul & @in-the-woods
old pinned post
hello. my name is biddy. my pronouns are whatever, but you can use he/him if that makes it easier. i am a degenerate Anarchist dog from the Midwestern United States. i am 34 years old and taken (@thatcrazywitch). i am AuDHD, i suffer from anxiety, cptsd, depression, and dyspraxia.
this blog serves as the primary source for my thoughts, feelings, ramblings, shitposts, life happenings, art, and whatever else crosses my mind. the topics will vary wildly, but you can expect a lot of the following:
anarchist and leftist agitprop
general us political news and opinions
world news
climate change/environmental news
poetry, prose, and other writing
random personal diatribes
animals
memes
silly text posts
photos of my dog
i find DNIs pointless, but i would ask if you are a TERF, transphobe, zionist, hardline religious zealot, or otherwise a fascist, for you to unkindly go fuck yourself. this blog is an unyielding ally to all marginalized and/or oppressed peoples, including but not limited to trans folks or any other queer-identifying individuals, Black and Indigenous peoples, and many others. you get a block immediately when interacting with my posts. i will not engage, so please do not waste anyone's time.
here are some tags that i frequently use. i am terrible at keeping up with them and i largely reblog without tags and then go back and add them later when i have time.
Text Posts: #text, #bork bork thoughts
Ask Responses: #borking back
Tumblr-Related: #meta
My Dog: #sweet princess peregrine
Other Dogs: #anarchodogism
Cats: #cats on the bork blog
Anarchoposting: #anarchy, #anarchism, #anarchist
OC Graphics: #oc, #learning photoshop through play
OC Poetry: #oc, #poetry
Non-OC Memes: #memes, #not oc
Wholesome Posts: #happy borks
please be advised: if i fail to tag something appropriately or reblog from someone detestable, please message me or send me an anonymous ask and let me know. DO NOT REBLOG MY POSTS WITH PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE COMMENTS. i treat people with respect when they treat me with respect. but i will publicly dress you down if you break this rule and then block you. this is the only warning i will give. no exceptions.
otherwise, please feel free to like or reblog anything i post. if it was too personal to be reblogged, i wouldn't share it. so don't worry about breaking tumblr protocol. i'm too old and tired to care about that.
my sense of humor is also very deadpan/sarcastic, so please keep this in mind when interacting. if something seems out of character, ask me for clarification and i'll provide it. there's a good chance that i'm probably just being silly. i love you, enjoy your stay.
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Happy Holiday Truce! @ectopal So sorry for the wait, life got away from me for a bit but I hope you enjoy the fic!
Be careful what you wish for...
It had been months since the Nasty Burger incident and Vlad has announced that Danny is now his ward. Some people take it better than others...
Content warning: This fic contains somewhat graphic depictions of violence and self hatred. Discretion is advised.
Word count: 2,946
Danny tugged at the collar of his dress shirt with a scowl, chattering of business men and women, socialites, wealthy people, and important members of Amity Park’s community filling the air around him. He hated coming to these events with Vlad, even before the accident, when his father would bring him along as a kid, he would find them stuffy and boring. Now it just served as another reminder of what he'd lost. Because at least before he could talk with Sam and make fun of the other guests with her, now…. It also didn't help that everyone kept giving him pitying glances or the bolder ones would come up and give their condolences even with the glare he would direct at them. It was pointless and it was infuriating. ‘Why did Vlad have to drag me here anyways…’ he mused as he readjusted his tie.
Danny remained near the back of the grand hall keeping to the shadows as best he could without his powers. He hadn't used them since the accident and would honestly prefer them gone, but Vlad had insisted on him keeping them, so refusing to use them became the next best thing. It was because of them that his family was gone after all.
In the crowd he could see Vlads figure bobbing and weaving through the crowd as he talked with various people for something or other. Danny hadn't really been paying attention to his explanation on what the event was about, just something about getting investors for some project. Every once in a while Vlad would turn in his direction as if checking to see if Danny was still there. He didn't know why he bothered, it wasn't like he had a license to take the car.
Soon it was time for the dinner portion of the event. As everyone started filing into the dining room and taking their assigned seats, Danny noticed some of the A-listers among the crowd of people. ‘Oh crap, this is bad, this is really bad….’ Glancing towards Vlad he hoped to find some excuse to leave right this second but found that the billionaire was already seated. Sighing deeply Danny surveyed the room. From what he could see only Paulina, Star, and Kwan were at the gala. ‘It could be worse,’ he thought, ‘Dash could have been here-’ as the last of the guests piled in, Danny spotted Dash with his father, the chief of police for Amity Park. “Fuck…” He muttered under his breath as he sank into his seat next to Vlad.
For now it seemed like none of his classmates had noticed him so he hoped to keep it that way. Since the incident his social life at school hadn't really changed much. If anything it had gotten worse in a way. Without Sam or Tucker or heck even Jazz to act as a distraction, the bullying from Dash got worse after about two weeks. The other students avoided him like the plague and some of the nerds started to verbally harass him, since they, rightfully, blame him for Mr. Lancers death. Honestly the fact that he was Vlad’s ward hasn't reached the rumor mill was a miracle. One that was probably about to run out. But hey, when did Danny ever have goodluck?
Once everyone had been seated, servers started to bring out plates of food for everyone. The dishes themselves didn't really look appetizing, even though they looked like they came straight from an episode of MasterChef. Picking at his food Danny glanced around the table, it seemed like for now none of the A-listers had noticed him, all of them too busy talking to each other. Breathing a sigh of relief he went back to his food.
~~~~
Once all of the courses had been served Vlad took his glass and stood tapping it to get everyone's attention. “Friends, I'd like to take the opportunity to formally announce something. As you all know it has been months since we had lost valuable members of our community, they had been our friends, role models, and children, and their loss has left a hole that hasn't yet begun to fill.” Danny kept his gaze low and shrunk into himself trying to not draw any attention to himself. He didn't like where Vlad was going with this. "As you may not know, some of the victims of the Nasty Burger incident were close friends of mine, Jack and Madeline Fenton, along with Jasmine, their daughter, were very dear to me and I miss them with my entire being.” Some of the guests started to murmur as some glanced over at Danny. “Which is why I was so delighted to learn that their son, and Jasmine's brother, Daniel had survived. So, all of this to say, I would like to propose a toast to Daniel, my new ward!” Vlad finished as he raised his glass, his gaze firmly on Danny.
Danny felt his blood and ectoplasm run colder than usual as everyone in the room raised their glass to toast him. Their expressions ranged from shock, polite, genuine joy, and on one face, barely contained rage. As Danny dared to look Dash in the eye he knew that he was probably screwed. Breaking eye contact with his number one bully Danny glared up at Vlad who was looking down at him, his expression seemingly showing genuine care. As the room erupted into applause Danny stood giving the crowd a strained smile before excusing himself.
~~~
Leaving the dining hall as quickly as he could Danny tried to calm his racing heart. ‘Of course this was why Vlad brought me to this stupid event. He had just wanted to rub it in my face that I was now his kid!’ Rounding a corner he crashed into something hard and fell to the floor. Hissing Danny rubbed at his forehead as the last person he wanted to be alone with spoke up. “Well if it isn't Fenturd! Just the prick I was looking for.” Dash said as he picked up Danny by the front of his dress shirt and brought him up to his face. “You've got some nerve showing up here, now I don't know how a scrawny loser like you got Mr. Masters ear but it won't change anything. You're still a loser freak who isn't worth shit. It's a shame that you survived the blast, but at least we don't have to deal with your insane parents anymore.” Dash said as he threw Danny to the ground. “Honestly that blast was a blessing in disguise! I mean it got rid of the town crazies, that stuck up teacher Mr. Lancer and two losers!” He continued with a laugh. “It's too bad you were the one that survived and not your hot sister.” Danny gritted his teeth as rage coursed him with every word Dash spoke. He was growing sick and tired of Dash's bullshit. “Anyway, you're going to tell me exactly how it is that Vlad Masters took an interest in you, and if I don't like your answer I'll just beat it out of you.” Dash finished as he leaned close to Danny's face.
Danny just glared right back at him. He was so tired, tired of the bullying, tired of the pity, tired of being alone. He had these ‘amazing’ powers that turned out useless when he really needed them. His family was dead and here was Dash spitting on their names and laughing about it! “Well might as well get to swinging cause Vlad already explained why he took me in, his little speech explained it all really.” Danny scoffed as he pushed Dash's face away.
Dash's face turned red at that. “There has got to be another reason. There's no way someone as important as Vlad Masters could have been friends with your loser parents!” He exclaimed, causing Danny's mood to sour even more.
“You don't know anything about me or my family so back off or you're going to regret it!” Danny growled.
Dash laughed at that. “Yeah right, a loser like you?”
Danny chuckled darkly at that. “Oh I'm the loser right? Just an orphan who lost everything in a fiery explosion. But hey, that's probably preferable to being the kid of the most incompetent chief of police Amity Park has ever seen. Who feels so emasculated by a teenage superhero that he goes home and beats you just to feel better.” Danny took a step forward. “Who is so forgettable that if it weren't for the fact that you're good at throwing a ball people wouldn't look at you twice. Who is so pathetic you keep chasing after Paulina even though she has made it clear that she is not interested in you.” Danny could see Dash start to shrink in on himself, his smile grew sharper showing off his fangs. “You're just a pathetic little man who is so stupid and worthless that the only chance of making something of yourself is to grovel at the feet of the people better than you. And the only way for you to fool yourself into thinking that you can be something is to take out all of your insecurities on the people you deem worthless. Just like how daddy does to you.”
Dash took another step back, his teeth gritted in barely concealed rage. “You're one to talk, Phantom probably could have saved everyone that day but he didn't. Probably he was stuck saving your pathetic ass.” He said trying to regain some control. “Hell, maybe the reason no one has seen him in months is because he's ashamed of saving you.”
Danny paused at that before he started to laugh. Broken, near historical laughter that echoed across the hall as he curled in on himself. “Maybe you're right there…” He said between laughs. He glanced up at Dash through his bangs. “But what do you know? He's just a pathetic “hero” who was too slow. Too cocky for his own good. Only good for beating up the ghosts he let loose in this town.”
Danny suddenly felt himself being grabbed and thrown across the hall. Skidding across the floor he slammed into a nearby pillar. “You take that back Fenturd! Phantom is an amazing hero, he never brought those ghosts here, it was your fucking parents who built the portal that brought them here. He has just been cleaning up after you're pathetic folks mess!” Dash growled as he went to grab Danny once more.
Danny grinned as he looked up at Dash, his fangs on full display and his eyes now an ectoplasmic green. He watched as Dash froze in shock and maybe even slight fear as Danny's transformation slid over him. “You know what,” he started as he pulled himself out of Dash's grip. “I have a lot of pent up energy I need to let out, I haven't really been doing much ghost fighting you see.” He said as he lit up a ball of ectoplasm in his hand. “Maybe I'll let off some steam by beating up one of the people I hate the most. I'm sure you're used to it already, right? Dash…” He said, watching with twisted delight as the blood drained from Dash's face. “Let's put those “skills” of yours to good use!” He exclaimed as he threw the ectoball at Dash.
~~~
Dash shouted in alarm as he dodged out of the way of the projectile, glancing back at Fento- no Phantom he gasped as the hero came flying right at him. Jumping out of the way he whipped around as he saw Phantom preparing another ectoball to throw his way. His mind was still spinning from the information that the hero he'd idolized for years was attacking him. Who seemed to hate him so much that he spat all of that venom at him. ‘This can't be true!’ He thought as he dodged another blast.
“Come on Dash! Is this the best you've got? Where's the guy who would shove me into lockers after beating the stuffing out of me huh?!” Phantom roared as he aimed a laser at Dash.
With a yelp Dash sprinted out of the way, dodging behind a pillar. “Well this isn't exactly fair! You have powers for God's sake!” He yelled back as he felt a slam against the pillar.
Suddenly Phantom’s face was right next to him. “That's never stopped you before.” He growled before grabbing him and throwing him across the hall. Yelping in pain Dash scrambled to stand up as Phantom approached slowly, his ghostly aura flickering in the dark hallway giving off an eerie vibe. “Oh I am going to enjoy this.” He said with a sharp grin as he lunged forward.
Dash panicked as he dived out of the way panting heavily as he tried to keep his distance from the hero. His mind reeling as the gravity of the situation sunk in. He had pushed too far, and now he was reaping what he sowed.
~~~~
Danny couldn't help but laugh as he continued to attack his bully. The fear wafting off of him was intoxicating as with each successful hit he became more and more fearful for his life. ‘Is this why all the ghosts crave to scare the shit out of humans? It's so delicious I want more!’ He lunged towards Dash again, the other was starting to get tired he could see it in his movements, and he was starting to get sloppy.
Grabbing him Danny started to land punch after punch on him, much like Dash would do to him since middle school. “You know,” another punch lands, “I'm starting to get,” he gets him in the stomach, “why you enjoy this so much,” another one to his face, “this is really fun!” Another one lands in his chest, leaving Dash gasping for air. Dash was starting to look bloody as the hits kept coming. Danny could only feel his rage as he continued his onslaught.
But suddenly a hand grabbed his elbow as he readied another punch. “I think that's enough Daniel.” Vlad’s voice cut through the haze as he kept hold of Danny's arm. Glancing back, he saw the billionaire staring down at him, his face scrunched up with worry.
“Oh what do you care, Vlad? Shouldn't you be happy I'm finally acting like you?” Danny spat as he wrenched his arm away from Vlad’s grip.
Vlad shook his head. “No, I am not pleased. This is not like you Daniel, you are supposed to be a hero, and hero's don't go around beating up people who can't fight back.” He said, crossing his arms as he gestured towards Dash.
Danny scoffed as he threw Dash to the ground. “Oh like you are one to talk about being a hero, remind me, who was the one who was always trying to get my dad killed? I'm sure you're just thrilled he finally kicked it! You're just sad you couldn't get my mom to yourself!” Danny growled his anger getting directed at Vlad.
Vlad flinched at that, his frown deepening. “Believe it or not, I haven't wanted to kill your father for a while now, least of all like this. And the fact that both your mother and sister were lost also saddens me deeply. Not to mention your friends and teacher.” He said as he approached slowly, like one would do a cornered animal. “I was jealous of your father, yes, but I never wanted something like this to happen, especially after I have seen how it affected you.” He said as he placed a hand on Danny's shoulder. “You are a good boy Dani- Danny, a good boy who has gone through so much and now has lost his only real support. And I'm sorry that I haven't shown you sooner how much I care about you.”
Danny glared up at Vlad, but as his words started to sink in that anger that he was holding since Dash first confronted him started to dwindle, only leaving the hurt and the grief behind. As his transformation washed over him once more Danny sunk into Vlad as sobs wracked his body. “I miss them so much!!” He wailed into his guardian. “I was right there and I should have done something!! I have all of these powers but I couldn't save the people I care about the most! What use do I have for them if I couldn't do that one thing?!” He wailed as the grief and anger at himself he had locked away inside himself flowed through him. He dimly felt Vlad patting his back as he wrapped him in a hug.
“It’s alright Little Badger, I've got you. We'll work through this together.” Vlad comforted as he held Danny closer. “As for you.” He said, turning his attention to Dash. “We are going to have a little discussion about what happened here. And I trust that you are smart enough to not breathe a word about this anyone, am I understood?”
Danny hears Dash scramble to stand up. “Y-yes sir, not a word…” He stammered.
“Good, now go get cleaned up, and if anyone asks, you fell, is that understood?” Vlad threatened.
Dash audibly gulped, “yes sir!” He yelped before scrambling away.
Vlad sighed as he turned his attention back to Danny. “Come Danny, let's get you cleaned up before heading back home.”
Danny pulled back from the hug nodding. “Okay, sounds good… Thanks.”
“It’s no problem at all Danny. Now come, we have some work to do to resolve this little hiccup.” Vlad reassured before guiding Danny away.
#holiday truce 2023#danny phantom#danny fenton#vlad masters#dash baxter#eevee writes sometimes#long post#3/1/2024
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Between the Lines
Summary: Hermione Granger is probably the last person Draco would want to be stuck in a closet with. Hermione liking the situation no more than him. Will spending time alone push them further apart or somehow bring them closer?
Finally part three of my prequel series, the last part in fact! This takes place during the third movie. I also mention things from the book and a little from my other writing which can be found here. It ended up being way longer than I expected but thanks for taking the time to read.
Hermione entered Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop in search for extra parchment and a new quill. The school year was coming to a close and while Ron stayed behind on this particular trip to Hogsmeade, being ill-advised to accompany the other students while his leg continued to heal. Harry, on the other hand, hid amongst the others while his invisibility cloak covered his body, joining to keep her company and because both boys were still under the impression Draco intended to get back at Hermione for hitting him. All the while, she thought it pointless to worry.
It didn’t take long to reach their intended destination. They thought it best for him to wait outside given the crowd gathered within. He’d be far more prone to bang into people in a large group and she planned to take no more than a few minutes.
To her surprise, adults filled the space, making maneuvering rather difficult. Some famous author took it upon herself to sign books, much like Hermione remembered Gilderoy Lockhart doing back before second year. The excitement reminded her of a crush she had on the professor. It all seemed so trivial now. Sending him a Valentine’s Day card, blushing whenever he came in sight and going as far as treasuring anything he wrote on (even keeping his get well soon letter tucked under her pillow after the Polyjuice Potion incident).
Of course, Hermione kept his books and maybe even stashed the notes inside, nonetheless she was well over any lingering adoration. Certainly, at this point, the events of the year overtook most her thoughts, leaving little to no room for a man who once stood on a pedestal in her mind. The truth of his memory charms were, after all, enough to shoo an abundance of his admirers away.
Her thoughts shook free of him after spotting a head of blond hair in the mass of people. His voice reached her ears as well, coming off as a muffled sort of shout, demanding others to get out of his way. It appeared as if Draco came in as unprepared as she did regarding the swarm of women and men.
The store owner directed Hermione to the back supply closet for the specific quill she sought and well advised her not to close the door. Apparently, certain classmates of hers thought it funny to lock their brother inside, making it so only those on the outside could free their captive. Instantly, she knew the culprits were Fred and George having a bit of fun with Percy, severely angering the other Weasley in the process. He complained about it nonstop in the common room, giving them an earful.
A small smile creased her lips upon the memory as she stretched on her tiptoes to reach the yet to be displayed box, pausing mid reach when another got unintentionally shoved inside by a group, who sounded like overly enthusiastic fans. The door got shut amongst the rushing adults, the slam echoing loudly.
A gasp escaped in a single breath. Despite the warning, Hermione dashed forward trying to turn the knob. “Oh no,” she spoke in a whisper, more in disbelief than anything else. “I can’t believe this is happening. We’re locked in.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” An edge of vexation roughened his tone. “Move aside.” Draco attempted the same as Hermione until he resorted to banging his fist on the wood itself.
“That’s not going to work. We’re going to have to wait until someone realizes we’re trapped.” She assumed Harry might take it upon himself to search for her, if a sufficient amount of time passed. Not that she could mention it, seeing as he wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place.
“Yeah, I’m sure the cavalry is on their way,” Draco sarcastically commented as he leaned against the wall, aware a small amount of space rested between them. No more than an arm’s length at best.
Otherwise, a single light hung above their heads. The room itself held racks stuffed with boxes, new items on one side, older on the back wall.
Silence engulfed them.
Hermione reluctantly lifted her gaze to look upon him. The two of them hadn’t been alone in quite a while. He grew a few inches in height over the summer, his frame holding an intimidating impression (more so from the way he purposely held himself).
She liked his hair much more than his sleeked back style. It hung freely, bright blond locks falling slightly past his brows. It shaped his face differently and while Hermione would never admit to admiring his looks, especially while a soft, golden glow overtook his hard-set mien, she didn’t want to tear her prolonged stare away.
Despite her reservations, an immediate desire to ask Draco if he remembered their first meeting on the train bloomed in her chest. Where she’d done the same type of scrutinizing study. Did he recall sharing his candy with her or maybe even their moment in Lockhart’s classroom when a mere second of contact caused electricity to fly between them?
She found herself every so often reminiscing the sensation of a fleeting, enamored sort of fondness for Draco Malfoy, feeling it in the pit of her stomach. It still came in waves, yet easily smothered the moment he sent a glare or rude comment in her direction.
Hermione forced herself to look elsewhere before he took notice, trying to instead, come up with a solution to their problem. It started to get warm too, which left her slightly uncomfortable.
Rather than a Hogwarts uniform, she wore a dark navy pair of shorts and a blue button up blouse. Draco took on his typical black attire. Both sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, the material light enough for the oncoming summer weather. The color heightened his pale skin tone but he seemed to prefer the dark shade.
“Will you stop pacing.” If he could even call taking a step every few seconds that. It irritated him more so than it should.
“I’m trying to think. Unlike you who’s just standing there.” Draco said nothing, only crossing his arms in return. “Oh, I’m sorry I forgot I was so beneath you, me saying anything to you is practically considered an insult. Except, of course, if you want to complain, then you don’t seem to care at all.”
Both hands fell on her hips, yet he remained silent. Huffing in aggravation, Hermione settled herself on the ground, bringing her knees close to her chest.
Ten minutes passed in agonizing muteness between them. Muffled voices passed under the door but the myriad of people’s attention may as well be miles away.
He eventually followed suit, taking a seating position across from her. They might be locked in the tiny closet for hours. Crabbe and Goyle wouldn’t think to look for him in here, the two probably too busy at Honeydukes to notice he left their side in the first place.
Draco started feeling restless after a while, so he turned to shift so his forearm rested on his raised leg while the other stretched out.
“I can think of so many people I’d rather be stuck with than you.” His comment came with a condescending sneer, mostly because the silence started to grate him.
“I’m not exactly thrilled to be here either.” Hermione rested her head on the shelf behind her. “I’d probably have more fun facing a Boggart.”
A scoff escaped him. “Getting a bad grade, how horrific. Really shocking fear for you. It’s almost as funny as Potter being terrified of Dementors.”
“And exactly how much trouble did you get in for dressing up as one and trying to scare Harry during a Quidditch match? Not your best plan. It came across rather silly.” She and Ron found themselves in the middle of a fight at the time, but that didn’t stop her from attending.
He got detention, had points taken away and endured an extensive reprimand by several professors. His parents weren’t happy receiving the letter sent home either.
“You go on about it as if he’s so innocent.” He turned his head from her, falling into complaint. “Showing off his Firebolt. Like people have nothing better to do than going around praising him, still being impressed by his stupid scar too.”
Hermione never quite understood his jealousy towards Harry. The boy who lost his parents, had to stay with an aunt, uncle and cousin who treated him dreadfully, who faced terrible things every school year. She supposed mentioning it would be futile.
She took a breath, venturing a different approach. Hoping to possibly gain some understanding. As to why try at all? Maybe she was tired of being combative or perhaps she needed a shred of proof his whole character didn’t lock itself in a singular mold. She saw glimpses already in the past, after all.
“I’m not scared of getting a bad grade specifically.” Hermione heard him sigh, but pressed on. “Sometimes a Boggart can get an exact image. Although every so often the concept can’t take solid form. For me, it’s less about a test and more being told I’m a failure. That I’m not good enough.”
Certain people saw her as someone less because her lineage. And while a compulsion to raise her hand in class existed, it wasn’t always due to knowing the correct answer, rather to keep herself in check. If she slipped from the compliment of being the “brightest witch of her age” who’d she be then?
Hermione went on a bit tentatively. “It’s the same for you, isn’t it? You’re not frightened of your father. You’re afraid of disappointing him… I might be wrong, but I think the reason goes much deeper –– ”
“Don’t act like you know anything about me,” Draco interrupted, leaning forward ever so slightly. A blaze of anger ignited in an instant. “How about you keep that Mudblood mouth of your shut about things you don’t understand.”
She dug too deeply and it stung. Maybe he did try to emulate his greatness, always searching for his father’s approval. Lucius maintained an air about him that nobody came close to. People respected him, knowing severe consequences followed if crossed.
If Lucius needed to give him a few good whacks with his cane every now and again to get results (because in spite of himself, Draco didn’t always listen), he had the right, didn’t he? Luckily, he tended to move his hands fast enough to avoid a blow. For the most part, anyway.
Tension slowly left his muscles, the heat not allowing him to keep his aggravation in place.
Not until Hermione saw his features lose their tightness did she attempt to say more. The weight of the insult remained, yet she tried to rise above it.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Fear is a tricky thing for others to understand. Ron’s scared of spiders and Neville of Professor Snape.” Her voice eased to a lighter measure. “It was rather funny to see him wearing that ridiculous hat.”
Draco ducked his chin, fiddling with his ring.
He intended not to reply until the image came flooding back. Somehow it washed away his persistent insouciance. “People were snickering behind his back for weeks. If he as so much caught a hint of a chuckle, he’d take away ten points immediately.”
It fell out of line from the traditional things he found amusement in, a far cry from sending him to his knees, pounding on the ground because he couldn’t contain himself.
But he laughed regardless. Alongside Hermione Granger no less.
It surprised her. The two of them sharing a moment of levity in a dusty storeroom of which the strong and distinctive smell of fresh ink overtook. While witnessing a brief softness in his open mirth, she felt a spread of warmth in her chest and trace of heat along her face.
It was, however, short lived.
Draco caught himself and stifled his laughter, forcing his legs to push him upward and direct his energy elsewhere. What has it been? A half hour? Longer, perhaps? “This is getting ridiculous. There must be something in here that will help us get out.”
He started searching through a few boxes, tossing them aside rather recklessly in need to do something, anything to vanquish whatever sensation he sensed coursing through his veins.
“Careful, you might break something,” Hermione chastised, quickly getting to her feet.
“As if I care.” He needed to get out now. What did it matter to him if parchment and quills flew everywhere or ink bottles shattered? If only he brought his wand, then perhaps he could’ve unlocked the door right away and avoided this whole thing.
Because he certainly intended to banish the entire ordeal to the back of his mind. He just needed to get away from her first.
In his rushed movements, Draco stumbled over a box, causing him to bang into Hermione and take her down with him.
The crash sounded earsplitting and the fall? It was far from graceful. More painful given Draco’s elbow slammed on the ground. It stopped his full body weight from landing on her completely, though he felt his knee jab into her leg on the way down, which caused a sharp but quick scream upon impact.
Hermione may have lost her ability to breathe after finding herself unexpectedly pinned beneath him, but Draco seemed to be acutely aware of their tangled legs and position of his hands. One rested above her shoulder, the other more so on her arm.
Given his previous claims, any form of physical contact should repulse him or at the very least trigger a hasty drawback. Eventually his fingers loosened their grip so his palm slipped to the floor. Touching her sent prickles along his skin, which threw him off a bit.
And for the first time Draco noticed the color of her eyes, a detail he not once bothered to remember.
He never saw brown eyes glow before, but hers did, like morning sunlight shinning on the bark of a redwood tree. Probably due to the low lighting above, yet in the moment, he believed even within the castle the dancing flame of a candle could ignite the same appeal. They radiated a warmth far surpassing his own pair of blue of which she stared into.
In his mind, Draco knew he needed to move, but the ability to direct his muscles failed him miserably.
Hermione spoke, only for her words to be drowned out by squeaking hinges. The door finally opened.
“What’s going on? Get off her.” He recognized Harry’s voice as a hand gripped his shoulder and somewhat clumsily pulled him upright, the maneuver a tad difficult.
“Let go of me!” Draco remarked, pushing Harry into the wooden frame. His gaze narrowed, noting the accusative tone. Giving the compromising position and knowledge of Harry’s dislike of him (returned, of course), he expected nothing less. “What kind of guy do you take me for, Potter?”
Harry helped Hermione up, speaking matter-of-factly once he gazed upon the blond again. “From the look of things, I have several ideas now.”
While Hermione didn’t blame the reason behind his conclusion, having picked up on it as well, she quickly attempted to correct it. “We fell, nothing else happened, I swear.”
Protective tension kept its hold. Harry cared for her deeply, their friendship built itself into a relationship he held close to his heart. Much like felt he with Ron and Hagrid.
He took her word for it, letting the impression leave him. Draco might go out of his way to torment them, but he really couldn’t picture him being the type to force himself on another. His mind simply jumped to the conclusion seeing him on top of her.
“What are you even doing here?” Draco questioned, breaking whatever silent conversation the pair seemed to be having. “Sneaking into Hogsmeade? I wonder how you managed to pull it off. Maybe I should let the professors take a couple of guesses.”
Harry slowly hid the invisibility cloak behind his back, hoping it went unnoticed. “I think I’m beginning to get the urge to tell the story of how Hermione hit you in the face.”
That was about the only ammo he really had.
“Oh yeah, terribly funny. I’m sure everyone would believe you.” It surprised him how none of them mentioned it, not that he’d be fond of it spreading now. Draco advanced on Harry. “If that’s your attempt at making a threat, it’s pretty weak, if you ask me.”
Before he managed to get too close, Hermione got between them. “Stop. You’re both starting to draw attention. That’s the last thing we need.”
And sure enough, people were beginning to look in their direction.
Draco caught her eyes again, confused on how they still held an alluring call. He forced a glower full of as much loathing he could muster, prior to directing his words to Harry. “Consider yourself lucky the school year’s nearly over. What a waste of time this is.”
The warning held a hollow meaning, the words placed to provide him ample reason to walk away.
Hermione watched him disappear from the shop into the warm sunlight. She suppressed the strange want to go after him and veered her attention back to her friend. “We should clean this up before we go. I’d feel awful leaving it a mess.”
Harry took on the task to help, knowing better than to suggest otherwise and asked for more details. “How’d the two of you end up in a closet in the first place?”
Hermione rattled off a few things between putting boxes away, making sure the door stayed open, yet her mind drifted elsewhere. She witnessed a different side of Draco. Again, but slightly different than before. He looked so, for lack of a better word, dissimilar to his usual self. His laugh rang free of any mocking undertones. Almost, well, mellifluous.
She’d probably never be given a second opportunity to hear it.
She doubted Draco took in the other moment the same way she did. His lips were so near to hers, hovering about an inch or two away. Hermione glanced down at them, finding herself, at the time and all the more so in the present, wondering what it may have felt like if he brought his mouth onto hers.
But kissing Draco Malfoy? What an aimless thing to consider.
#dramione#hermione granger#draco malfoy#harry potter#the prisoner of azkaban#it's been a month since i last posted something i wrote XD#i try i really do#still a bit nervous to post#but here it is#nice comments are always appreciated#sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes
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Also Shell midnight/nightmare (they’re pretty similar so either or) and hate
Also got long teehee^^
midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?
-Well it is mostly debilitating stress, neither team cares much for admin but if they don't perform well enough or fuvk around being friendly for too long there's a non zero chance their contracts will be terminated prematurely. Not ideal. You can't fucking escape the administrator, you either finish your contract or perma die on the job, not always at the hands of the other team. The blus know this and its scary thought no one wanted to acknowledge that's why shell was voted team leader, unfortunately someone Did have to think about it. Both teams are usually pretty good at doing their jobs but sometimes there's off days and sometimes there's lazy days and no one knows when admin is after them until its too late and shell worries. It's been a slow week, is the pointless war still entertaining? Have they done enough? He worries. That's why the teams came together to knock out as many security cameras as possible
nightmare: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?
-Shell lived with hir gran for most of hir life (most of hir salary goes to ol granny) and whilst they do have telephones if anything happened to her the news would still take awhile to reach shell. Sometimes he dreams about coming for a surprise visit only for the house to be empty. He doesn't tell anyone
hate: What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred?
-Well, he wouldn't call it hate, its a very strong word but ah.. its a very similar situation to milk, the whole 'I love my team, hate how they make my life agony though', being team leader means two things: 1. Worry about all our issues and 2. Everyone is going to heed your advise Less. Yknow those pictures of parents with like 5 kids on the little kiddie leashes who are having the worst time? Yeah. Shell joined the team and became friends with rosa and was like 'ok! This guy has issues but this is only person I'm making myself responsible for' and then and then. Shell doesn't hate anyone or anything and if he did he wouldn't admit or show it. Give it a couple years though
#gamer txt.#al ocs#you are encouraging me you know that sal? youre doing great thank you#there's a reason for blu teams very own walking chimney to be that way#you dont chain smoke that bad for no reason#shell
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Tea + "I'm listening."
bad day prompts: accepting
He should have stayed in his dorm.
The nausea had persisted from last night and it was bad. When he'd sit still it felt a little better, as if each motion was stirring the bile stored in his gut from the hefty workload. Because Suguru had come to realize that his true self has come to pass and gods forbid he becomes present in this moment and stir the cadaver awake. Nowadays, he preferred to stay dead and motionless.
It was his dear misfortune that one Shoko Ieiri was far too experienced around corpses.
She must have put Satoru up to this. He refused to believe that his resolve had grown so weak as to allow his true state to reach someone as dense and self-involved as him. There was a deep shame attached to looking so emaciated and Suguru was too aware of it. There were days when he didn't like how he looked in the mirror but the fatigue made it hard to do anything about it. He'd blamed it on the seasons, on the influx of curses or the lack of any good new movies lately — but ultimately he was still only able to hold down the bland food of the cafeteria. So when he disappeared for an hour into the izakaya bathroom after sampling the yakitori, Shoko must have slipped Satoru a note or something.
She must have assessed the extent of his problem when he asked her for more dramamine the other day. This is the last time he's making friends with a doctor.
The boiler's hiss comes to a whistle; Satoru gets up from the windowsill and Suguru only curls up into himself further — coddling the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, looking outside into the dreary sky. Knees press to his chest, coiling as animals do to preserve their warmth. When his friend returns to offer some liquid comfort, his mind momentarily reflects on the state of his room. There's a few empty ramen cups here and there, second-hand smoke lingering on the roof ( Yaga-sensei has stopped giving him notices when he smoked indoors ) his bed is not made — but overall it is in a better condition than most days. His shoulders straighten up within an exhale with that.
He accepts the mug mumbling a 'thank you' and meets a starkly blue gaze for the first time. It's so bright. Suguru's chin heaves to meet it, the mug nursed between his palms but not indulged yet. What is he supposed to tell him? That he feels disoriented? That's hardly a topic someone like him can give him direction with. Or should he ask him how he feels about the sorcerer profession; when he's been groomed to embody it? It was the only thing Satoru knew how to do. And he was the best at it; but ultimately, it had never been his choice to begin with. So how could he advise someone like Suguru on what to do?
On who to be.
Because the old him was gone. And he could not keep on moving as a bloated corpse anymore. If Shoko would be the one to pick up his ashes, Satoru could never make something of them — a sole look at his expression ( those soft features honed into a sharper edge when he smiles nowadays, always a little scatter-brained in the way religion books describe those who become maddened with divine enlightement ) would attest to it. So, Suguru decides he won't let him into any of that — because it's pointless. But the more he looks at him as though they're caught in another one of their infamous staring matches, the more his expression steels with the realization that there is also something else.
❝ You have been neglecting our friendship. ❞ His brows raised slightly, adding a pleading tone to the declaration. He pauses, expecting the other to cut in; appreciating it when he doesn't, for once. Violet eyes gleam a warmer shade under the light of a dying sun. ❝ I understand you were investing time in your training. But, Satoru — you forgot about the premiere for Pirates of the Caribbean, you've stopped picking up the phone and you left me alone for Haibara's birthday. When you know I couldn't win the karaoke without you. ❞ He had looked awfully stupid trying to sing both verses at once.
Suguru found wicked relief talking about this instead of everything else that had been weighing on him; yet at the same time, it felt awful. Because even though he could not contain it in words ( and he was not expecting to get any words back from Satoru, either ) this expression of interest from his friend had at least rekindled the warmth between them. Suguru latched onto it as if it were the last match in his matchbox. But would it suffice to reignite the fire that had died inside him? There was a softer tone as he lead on, a cant to his head releasing grown out strands atop his sweater, lips curling into a small pout.
❝ ... What do you have to say for yourself? And be pragmatic; in your opinion, am I justified to feel this way or not? ❞
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followed u for motogp/f1 stuff but i noticed you watch football as well and i’m trying to get into it. do you know of any explainers/guides that i can read through to understand the basic lore? i’m so lost rn😭
hiii first and foremost it's my moral duty to advise you to run. football is the devil's sport & it'll only make your life worse, don't do this 🥹
secondly in my experience the best way to start watching a sport is to just...watch it lol. the commentary will do most of the explaining for you, and what you don't understand you can just google afterwards!
if you're looking for beginners explainers/guides r/soccer on reddit has a pretty good list of resources in their wiki. i know it's reddit 🙄 but in general i've found the majority of post-match threads (i usually avoid the match threads; they're full of trolls) to be quite technical & informative & there's a LOT of lore discussion in the comments. of course since it's reddit 🙄 discussion will sometimes devolve into pointless arguments; at that point just walk away it's not worth your time.
on youtube tifo football is good for lore/history & they also have a separate channel tifo irl which is good for technical analysis. there are also hundreds and thousands of biographies/auto biographies/documentaries if you're interested about specifc players/clubs (90% of them are trash though lol). one writer/journalist i really like is sid lowe, his Fear and Loathing in La Liga is a must-read for la liga/barca/real madrid fans, and some of his write-ups in the guardian are really good too. (pity he mainly writes for la liga, I would give an arm & a leg for him to write a book about the prem :(((
P.S. just keep in mind that all this is meant to introduce you to football; a lot of the stuff out there is pretty subjective so take everything with a spoonful of salt. once you're more familiar with the game you'll get better at judging what's useful & what's bullsh*t.
also don't forget at the end of the day football is!! just another sport!! it's completely fine if you're just in it for the drama &/ male athletes being sluts and whores; you don't need to memorize the entire rulebook or be versed in decades of lore™ to watch it!!!
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i-land: the final fourteen
masterlist | wattpad
italics dialogue: english | bold + italics: confessionals
slight plothole: in 'ayez being the softest duo,' jungwon was said that he had to switch his part with heeseung but i had to change it 😁
"I'm guessing you want a one liner?" Alice asked me quietly.
"Nope, part six," I adverted my gaze from the screen to look at her. "What about you?"
"Part three's lookin' good," I could tell that she wanted part one. The outcome of today's performance must have given her the confidence.
Though I can also tell that she's not confident the guys will agree.
"You can go for part one," she just shook her head.
"They're not gonna give it to me," she mouthed so the audience and editors won't catch it. I could barely read her lips, but I understood the message.
My girl can sing and dance powerfully with great stage presence but there's just this unspoken bias because they've only known the female trainees for mere weeks.
Alice believes that they trust me as centre because of my 'scary' aura and that I was one of the best dancers.
"You don't want to try?" I asked her, to which she replied with a shake of her head. "Okay," I gave her a soft smile.
Kang Della: Because this is my last chance, I wanted number one or five at first. But then I figured it would suit someone else more, so I wanted part six because I get to sing in the second chorus.
I did get part six in the end, and fortunately for Alice, she got her part three too.
"Oppa, are you feeling okay?" I asked Seon when I saw him struggling again. The choreo is our hardest yet and he had asked me for help.
"No," he let out a sarcastic smile.
"You should take like a fifteen minute nap-"
"No no, I need to get this done," he walked towards the tablet.
"I'm serious though. Just for fifteen minutes and I'll wake you up. Learning this over and over again while you're like this is almost pointless," it might sound harsh but really- he needs to clear his head or he won't get shit done.
"You'll wake me up?" he still looked unsure.
"Heck- I'll accompany you and clear my head too. Come on," I cocked my head to the door.
"Can you play with my hair?" I let out a small chuckle.
"Okay, oppa."
❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆
"Does honey work better than propolis?" Kyungmin looked at me as I consumed my honey.
"I.. don't know... I've been using honey for forever," I looked at the bottle. "They both come from bees anyway."
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"What are you doing?" Geonu scooted closer to where I sat.
"I'm familiarising myself with the song," I paused the song still playing on my left earpiece. "All the different layers and details to it."
❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆
"Keep your eye contact. Eye contact is very important. In fact- if possible, don't look down at all," I advised Jungwon as he kept practicing for part five.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Sunghoon, Jake and EJ turn their eyes away from us and repeating the move they were rehearsing.
❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆
"So you would practice all night the day before a performance then not practice at all the next day?" Youngbin suddenly asked.
"Excluding group practices, yup. I mean- that's just me. I like to keep a clear head or my nerves would be too visible," I explained.
Byeon Euijoo: Della's expressions are very idol-like. In my opinion, she has the best out of all the trainees.
Jo Kyungmin: She's one of, if not the top trainee at the moment.
Choi Seon: Della has consistently been at the top of the pack, her evaluation scores are always very high. So I think that all of us are trying to learn a thing or two from her.
Lee Youngbin: Della does things a bit differently from the rest. We were wondering if some of her tricks would work on us too.
Kang Della: Work smarter, not harder.
"You got this?" Jake flexed his bicep to the mirror.
Jesus fucking Christ. Can this man get any finer?
I felt Alice nudging me slightly and the action made my cheeks warm up more.
"Shut up," I mumbled, earning a giggle from her.
Sunghoon, who was the nearest to Jake, lifted up his sleeve to show off as well.
Lord have mercy, this ex-athlete is hot as fuck too.
It's not like I've never seen his arms but that doesn't make it any less impressive.
Suddenly Jay decided to walk over and join them.
Okay- back the fuck up. This is too much for me.
I just found out that I also have a crush on this guy and now everything he does feels like an attack.
"Cute. You guys look like madelines dipped in different flavours of frosting," Alice blurted out. "Strawberry, chocolate, glaze."
"What?" the three '02 liners and I laughed at her random comment.
As we were laughing, we failed to notice our oldest hyuppa prepping to show his hard work.
"WOAH!" everyone reacted at the view.
"Wahh, that's truly amazing," Alice's eyes widened.
"It's like bread rolls," I mumbled.
"Bread rolls," some of the other I-Landers chuckled.
"Bread rolls..." Alice trailed off.
As the boys were attempting to get a better look (and feel K's abs), I noticed his eyes shifting towards Alice a few times with a barely visible smirk on his lips.
Oh I get it. He's trying t-
"Bread rolls!" Alice exclaimed while touching my abdomen out of no where. Her eyes lit up and she had the most adorable look on her face.
"Oh my God," I couldn't help but laugh when I understood what she meant.
"What? What?" Jaebeom asked.
I untucked my tee and lifted it up to confidently reveal my bread rolls (as how Haneul referred to them as).
"WAHH!" I'm sure all of the guys' eyes widened.
"Can you get any more perfect?" Heeseung whispered near my ear, touching his own stomach.
IS THIS MAN MAKING MY HEART FLIP ON PURPOSE? Fucking hell- I'm trying to be cool here.
I bit back a smile as I pushed my waistband down to display more. Act cool, act cool, act cool.
"Wahh, that's so cool!" damn right, I worked hella hard for these abs.
All the guys are real sweethearts. To avoid making me uncomfortable (but still get a closer look), they came forward towards the mirror and relied on the reflection.
They're so sweet, it's making my heart ache. If I make it to the end, it'll be an absolute honour to debut with these people.
Even if I have a crush on three of them.
"Honestly speaking, I think Della has amazing charisma and she has shown it multiple times. I feel like part five would be a good fit for her," Geonu spoke up during our discussion. "Can someone else share their opinion?"
Poor Jungwon. It's like Jay all over again. Perfect in every aspect except one detail.
Lee Geonu: Della has consistently showed great charisma in her performances. She also sings and dances really well so I thought that part five would be a perfect fit.
"I think Della will give the team higher points if she takes part five instead of the part she has now," K agreed. "What do you think, Della?"
Oh God. What can I answer to that?
"I have to be honest- I would love to take part five. Especially now more than ever," I couldn't seem to look at anyone in the eye. "But since I already took the killing part during Fire, I feel like either Alice-unnie or Heeseung-oppa would be a nice choice."
Fucking hell- why did I say that? Why did I let my dumb intrusive thoughts and insecurities take away my chances of debut? Am I that unfit to be in a survival show?
How did my year long ex (who I haven't even seen in over two years) effect me this badly? Why is it so hard for me to be selfish?
You dumb fucking bitch. How do people even put up with you?
"Della- there's nothing wrong with taking a big part," Alice's eyes held a subtle 'are you insane?!' feel.
Kang Della: I really wanted to take it but something in the back of my mind says that it's a lot of pressure. I have the highest accumulated score at the moment, and with a big solo like part five, everyone's expecting me to do well.
"Maybe Jungwon can practice a bit first and we'll keep talking about it."
"Then I'll do part six. Rather than be mediocre, it's better to do it properly. So I think part six is the right decision," Jungwon finally concluded.
"Let's try it that way," K said softly.
"Yes," oh my God. I feel absolutely terrible.
"I'm so sorry Wonie," I stroked his arm. "It doesn't mean that you weren't good, yeah?"
"Thank you," he smiled slightly. "I just needed more time to perfect it. Time that we don't have."
"Why don't we perfect your part six then?" I stood up and held out my hand. "We have a date with the practice room."
"Eh?" K furrowed his eyebrows, trying to hold in his laugh.
"WITH the practice room, WITH. Not at," I slapped his arm.
"With, with," Jungwon said at almost the same time as me, though unable to tame the tint on his cheeks.
❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆◦❅◦❆
"Jungwonie, fighting!" so I was planning to (only) accompany him to his room after practice, but it somehow turned to us hugging things out on the edge of his bed. "You're amazing, you know that?"
"Thank you, Lala," he rubbed the side of his face to my hair. I heard him let out a sigh while his fingers played with the tips of my hair.
He gives amazing hugs. Absolute top tier cuddles.
Is it the shoulders? He has very broad shoulders, especially for someone his age.
"Do you want me to stay until your roommates come back? Alice is probably asleep," my voice was muffled with his shirt.
"Yes please. Can we lie on the bed? And hug some more? I'm really tired," he pulled away to stretch a little.
"Just relax, Wonie. You had a long day. I'll be right here, don't worry."
taglist! @afiaaaa19 @riikiblr @one16core @4sahii @toriluvsfics @i90snoo @danyxthirstae01 @seulgifted @clar-iii @hiqhkey @nichmeddar @jiwlys @duolingofanaccount [@studioreader @sarang-wonie @fairydosii @hoonstrology @jaetint]
requested:
— that one bicep show off jasuke did
#kang della#enhypen ff#enhypen reactions#enhypen scenarios#enhypen x oc#8th member of enhypen#enhypen 8th member#enhypen added member#enhypen eigth member#enhypen female addition#enhypen female member#enhypen oc#kpop added member#kpop oc#enhypen female oc#enhypen imagines#enhypen poly fic#enhypen poly
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hello i see requests are open 🥺 can you write an angst to fluff with suna 💞💞 maybe som ething related to birthdays/anniversary’s, or just feel free to take creative liberty. thank you i love your work 😖💞
“birthday” suna rintarō.
a/n : i hope you enjoy, if so please support by liking & reblogging <3
warnings : angst, implications of a toxic relationship, mild swearing, me not proof reading sorry.
you had been sitting against the hardwood chair for hours now, it felt pointless to even count, time was blurring slowly and you couldn’t help but fade away with it. you would have never imagined your day would go like this, from the moment you had woken up your boyfriend suna hadn’t been in bed next to you, granted that was something you were used to. however, you thought today would be different, considering it was your birthday.
since suna went pro he seemingly had less and less time for you but you could tell he was making as much as an effort as possible, that’s probably the reason that you failed to address it multiple times regardless of the way it had been eating away at you. how could you get in the way of your boyfriends dreams? he had finally accomplished everything he had wanted since high school, he was playing for a division one team, he had the apartment he’d been dreaming of, the car he had saved on his pinterest board since he was seventeen, and now even though he never cared for fame he was definitely famous.
and you were there for the entire ride, you were there when he first decided to try out for inarizaki’s volleyball team in first year, even though you weren’t dating then you still encouraged him to go for it. you were the one who showed up to his first practice to ease his nerves even though he tried to act brave. you were there when he went to nationals for the first time, the look in his eyes was indescribable, it was beautiful and it’s when you knew that you were slowly falling in love with suna. you were there when he lost his first official game comforting him as much as you could. you were there in second year when he lost against karasuno, you were there when he got his first girlfriend advising him what to get her even though you were completely whipped over him. yes, you were always by his side, thankfully the two of you made things official in third year.
but now looking back thinking on all of it you realised one thing you had never even considered is that this would happen, that once suna achieved everything you would no longer be his priority. you weren’t going to lie to yourself, it hurt, it seriously hurt. especially when you had been anticipating him to leave atleast a note wishing you a happy birthday saying he would be back in a couple hours to celebrate with you. but no, there wasn’t even that. no note, no text, no phone call, nothing.
and here you thought you would take the burden off his hands by planning something for the day, you had spent hours preparing a three course meal knowing that once suna was back from practice he would be on the verge of knocking out, the last thing you wanted was him dragging himself to some fancy resturant across town at your benefit. yet, it didn’t matter how much you considered his feelings since he wasn’t even here to show an ounce of gratitude.
it was taking everything in you to hold in your tears, had he really forgotten? even his own teammates had taken the time to text or call you to wish you a happy birthday, but right now it was anything but that.
what probably hurt the most was the crushing realisation of how unimportant you were becoming in his life, why were you even still in it? did he even want you around, even if he does then that didn’t mean you should necessarily stay, afterall it was becoming clearer and clearer that you deserved better even if you cursed the thought of saying it outloud. well, you atleast deserved someone who could remember your special day.
your head darted to the door as you heard the sound of keys and the lock clicking, it was almost as if suna’s very presence could pull you out of any trance.
“rin?” you smiled, why were you smiling? you shouldn’t be smiling. were you really so hopelessly infatuated with your boyfriend that you would let all your thoughts melt away at the sight of him alone? come on now, this is disappointing.
you deserve better.
you launched yourself into his arms in which he embraced you tightly, it wasn’t anything special, he did it everytime he had come home to you, but you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach as if you were still in your honeymoon phase when it came to rintarō.
“are you hungry? i made some food.” you pulled away taking a glance at his face, even when you were right in front of him it didn’t even seem like he was acknowledging your presence. his eyes were trailing between empty space, not even looking down at you. you couldn’t help but sigh to yourself, why had you gotten so excited?
“nah.” he shook his head attempting to make his way over to your shared bedroom. he looked tired and you weren’t surprised, afterall being a pro player was no easy task but you hoped at the very least that he would say something. secretly you were hoping that this was all some shitty prank that he decided to play on you and any second now he would jump out saying happy birthday and offering to spend some time with you.
“but rin i-“ you could barely finish your sentence before he decided to cut in with a tone so sharp that it was offensive.
“not now y/n, i’m not in the mood.” he sighed.
“i understand that but-“
“are you really going to keep talking? don’t start this clingy shit right now i said i’m not hungry.” and with that he didn’t even bother turning around, not even one glance at the food you had prepared before he disappeared down the hallway.
oh.
so he really had forgotten, even though the two of you would joke around a lot you knew he would never take things this far. not to the point where your eyes were glued to the floor and it felt like you couldn’t breathe because of the way your heart was literally breaking in your chest, not to the point where it felt like the person who you deemed the most important on the planet didnt give a shit about you.
suna clicked his tongue running his hands through his hair in exasperation as he thought about the way he just treated you. truly, he didn’t know what his problem was, there was just so much pressure on him lately and it seemed to be building up from every corner of his life, except from you, so why did he always take things out on you? the one he cared about most? the one he would do anything for? maybe it’s because he knew there would be no serious consequences, or so he thought. regardless, he would apologise to you soon when he calmed down, you didn’t deserve all the shit he was putting you through and he would make sure you knew exactly what you meant to him.
but what he didn’t know is how you were standing in the kitchen with a hole in your heart. there wasn’t much you could do now, he barely let you speak and you weren’t really up to reminding him of the fact it was your birthday, especially if he didn’t care to hear it.
you sighed making your way to the fridge pulling out a chocolate cake, you had gotten it because you knew it was suna’s favourite flavour and he was particularly picky when it came to cakes even though it was your birthday.
“i might as well still celebrate.” you mumbled to yourself, tears making their way down your face. maybe for another day you could pretend that everything was okay.
you picked up some candles from the drawer and stuck them into the cake softly, it was a miracle how you could still keep your composure regardless of what had just happened. sighing you lit them up, in a way it was such a tragic sight to see. in everyone else’s eyes you had everything you could have ever wanted in life, people looked up to you and yet here you were, feeling like the most lonely person on the planet.
“happy birthday to me.” you whispered with a sad smile and glossy eyes before blowing out the candles.
tragic indeed.
“y/n?” suna turned the corner raising an eyebrow at your state. he could tell you were crying and as much as it hurt him it also shocked him, he had said mean things to you before but you didn’t usually cry over them even though they clearly caused you pain. it took everything in him not to hit his head against the wall right now, you were in this state because of how he dismissed you.
you looked up at him, your eyes were void of the excitement they held when you had saw him earlier and he took note of it. “oh rintarō, do you want cake?” your tone was curious but your expression was deadpan, and to suna it was scary.
“i came to apologise.” he began making his way towards you glancing at the cake several times, why were you blowing out candles?
that’s when it hit him. what day is it today? he wasn’t sure he hasn’t been very perceptive of time lately but he did know it was your birthday month.
his heart dropped.
had he really neglected you this much lately that he had forgotten your own birthday? and he had the audacity to call himself your boyfriend.
“y/n, i’m so sorry i don’t know how i forgot-“
“save it rin, i see things clearly now, thank you.” you turned to make your way out of the kitchen but he was onto you before you were even able to.
“you see things clearly? what do you mean? y/n, i know i’ve been a shitty boyfriend lately and forgetting your birthday is unforgivable but please don’t say what i think you’re about to.” he clenched his jaw pulling your hand into his chest.
“what do you want me to do? ealier you didn’t even let me speak, is it something i did? do you hate me?” you asked with tears streaming down your face, you couldn’t pretend anymore.
“no, no, don’t ever think that, you’re perfect, you’re everything i could ever ask for, you’re not the problem you never have been.” he embraced you, wrapping his arms so tightly as if the moment he let go you would be gone.
“so why don’t you care about me anymore?” the broken tone in your voice was sending suna off the rails, he couldn’t believe he was the cause of this, he hated himself.
“that’s not true, i do care about you, i love you, you’re everything to me, you don’t even know how much you mean to me.” he pulled away to cup your face, this time you could see the sincerity in his eyes, the genuine interest, the adoration. “fuck, i’ve just been under pressure and i’ve taken it out on you, i can’t even tell you how sorry i am.”
“give me another chance to be better to you y/n, please don’t leave me i can’t live without you.” he fell to his knees, still holding your hand in his.
“rin-“
“please” he begged, a look of anguish prominant on his features as if he expected you to say no.
“get up rin.” you watched as he rose slowly, anxiety engulfing him as he couldn’t anticipate your answer. “i’ll give you another chance, always.”
“thank you.” he kissed your forehead before bringing you back into his arms.
“what are you doing?” you frowned watching as he brought out his phone and began texting.
“i just told my coach i’m taking a week off, i swear i’ll make this up to you, happy birthday y/n.”
you smiled at the thought of having your boyfriend to yourself for an entire week for the first time in ages, maybe your birthday wouldn’t be so bad afterall.
“tell me what you want princess, anything at all.. do you want to go out of the country? you wanted to see paris right?”
you chuckled at his words as he wiped your tears, looking at you with eyes full of love. “i don’t care what we do, as long as i’m with you.”
“well first how about i have cake with the love of my life?” he turned to the chocolate cake on the dining table before relighting the candles. “how about you do this properly this time hmm?”
“i would like that.” you smiled.
#haikyuu#anime#haikyuu angst#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu season 4#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!!#haikyuu suna#hq suna#suna fluff#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintaro imagine#suna rintaro scenarios#suna headcanons#suna rintarō#suna x reader#suna rintaro fluff#suna rintaro angst#suna angst#suna rintaro x you#inarizaki#ejp raijin#suna fanfic#sunarin
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I Am Alive (chapter 30/?)
Chapter 30: Where the Skies End
Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content
Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20 • 21 • 22 • 23 • 24 • 25 • 26 • 27 • 28 • 29 • 30 • more coming soon
[ You can also read on AO3 ]
Unsurprisingly, and much to your frustration, Connor had finished the move without you. There might not have been much left to move at that point; but, it was your stuff at a house that you rented, and not Connor's responsibility in the slightest.
But, there was no telling the android that, and you knew that he would have been well equipped with plenty of reasons as to why he could handle the rest of the move alone: you needed rest, he didn't require sleep, etc, etc.
When you stepped off the elevator into the android's - and now your - apartment, Connor had a look on his face, as if you had come home for the first time in years. You had only spent a week at Hank's place, and only a day and some odd hours at the hospital prior to that, and Connor had been nearly inseparable from you the entire time; yet, it felt like ages since you had been here.
It was only then that the weight of your near death experience became apparent. Before, your life, or the loss of it, wouldn't have impacted anyone else. It was just you in that little house, trying to make a living, picking up the pieces of a war and watching humanity change astronomically.
Now, there was a life that would be changed if you were gone. You let yourself imagine how Connor would cope, what would become of him, and struggled to keep the sorrow to yourself.
Perhaps, for the first time in your life, you knew what it was like to be needed.
Your wound healed remarkably in the weeks that followed. The scar left behind was star shaped and your skin was darkened around the sunken surface. But, you didn't find yourself hating it as much as you thought you would.
It wasn't something you looked at with pain or regret, but rather something prideful. Maybe there was something masochistic about it, not that you found yourself bothered by that realization.
Your coworkers thought it looked 'pretty cool' and declared that it made you 'quite the badass'. Now, you could wear the badge of 'I've been shot', with a bizarre story to tell. You didn't care if people thought it was strange, letting yourself get shot for an android.
Connor was much more than 'just' an android. He was the man you loved, who carried an astronomical burden you could barely understand. Sure, you could judge the weight, the pressure; but, you, an ordinary human, couldn't possibly understand what he felt as the target of a revolution that would change humanity forever.
The thoughts became clearer as you and Connor stepped into Haven for the last time, and you took in the emptiness, the quiet, and the cold.
"One moment," Connor advised you, stepping away and into the open space in the center of the room.
RK800, like all androids, had no true sense of temperature. Connor couldn't feel cold the way humans did. His artificial skin wasn't going to prickle with goosebumps and his muscles wouldn't shiver from the discomfort.
His HUD could report the weather if he enabled it and he had various feedback modules to inform him of how the temperature would affect a human, with the rightful assumption one would be in his presence.
Yet, despite this very well known limitation of his being, Connor couldn't explain how he managed to feel so cold as he stood there in the very abandoned Haven.
He was aware that warmth could be metaphorical, symbolic of belonging and comfort. His sense of cold was both literal and figurative in this sense. Without any machines running, all the lights turned off, Haven had become very cold. The halls, once busy with androids, were now empty, and the building was silent if not for the creaking walls.
-until someone walked through the distant corridor, their quiet footsteps rattling in Connor's acute hearing module.
There was an apology on the tip of Connor's tongue when he caught the sight of Markus. However, the RK200's stare wasn't cold or untrusting. There was something undeniably regretful on his face, conveying sympathy to the fellow android.
Markus' mismatched eyes caught the sight of you over Connor's shoulder, and spared a sad expression.
The two androids had agreed to meet here, for the last time in circumstances like this, hopefully. Once the final bill was passed, and androids would be proper citizens, there would be no need for this.
However, Connor had yet to obtain a definitive lead on Reaves' accomplices. This, at the very least, could provide some security for the androids that came before him.
"I know you didn't want me to," Markus began. "But, I will tell them it's from you. They should know."
"It's... your choice," Connor replied quietly, hoping to mask the uncertainty in his tone.
The two androids took each other's wrists, pushing the fabric of their jackets out of the way to touch skin to skin. Connor knew that Markus trusted him. He took the file without even bothering to scan it first. Only once it was already saved on his local system did he bother to analyze it.
The detective android had worked on that during your recovery week, while he laid beside you in low power mode. He reviewed the log files on his internal firewall over a thousand times, and crafted additional security protocols, specifically designed around write protection. Factory defaults, if he could help it, would be near impossible.
Markus could share this new code with other androids. If Connor failed to stop it in time, at the very least, their memory modules would be protected from brute force attacks, cyberlife certified or otherwise.
As their hands parted, Connor seemed to understand why he felt so cold. He had grown accustomed to how your skin felt - how human skin felt. Even when you weren't acutely aware of it, you were always warm.
"You're one of us," Markus declared, his hand dropping to his side. "We couldn't have done this without you. Your sacrifices need to be known."
"Sacrifices," Connor parroted quietly, doubtful.
He thought about Reaves' disbelief, at how he prioritized saving your life over securing the future of his kind. He could have killed you, carried on the mission, secured all of the chips and brought the android protestors to absolute surrender.
But, he didn't.
Before you, what had he gambled, if not his own life? A life that, by the very words of his creators, didn't exist, was meaningless, just programs executed in succession. He had questioned the very existence of his own life, but so had every android before him.
Still, the determined look on Markus' face didn't falter.
"Until we meet again," he offered, nodding at his fellow android. His eyes landed on yours before he turned away, and you offered him a sad, small wave.
As Connor passed, he took his hand in yours and guided you out of the building with careful steps. It was unnecessary to bring you here, but he understood the importance of goodbyes, and didn't want you to believe your efforts here had been in vain.
You expected to be driven home after that; however, as you climbed into the car, Connor asked, "would it be alright if we went to the park for some fresh air?"
"-'course," you replied softly, shifting your gaze from the android's face to look out the window.
Connor was uncharacteristically quiet during the drive, his hands gripping the steering wheel in a death lock. You didn't pay much mind to it, figuring he was stressed after everything that had happened. You had been the one on death's door; yet, Connor was the one seemingly always on the edge of a nervous breakdown.
It was worrying; but, you knew he needed to work through it in his own way.
At the park, Connor had hoped you would head straight for the bridge, to a place you had cherished so much. If his research was accurate, this needed to be done at a special place. As he followed you slowly up the curve, feet tapping against the boards, a wave of doubt washed over him.
You looked stunning, standing upright for the first time in weeks, with pep in your step, the sun soaking up your hair. Could he really have this? Could he even think himself allowed for such a thing? Could an android truly understand the needs of a human?
"You alright?" you called out to him, pausing before you reached the apex of the bridge.
It snapped him out of his stupor, and Connor replied softly, "I'm fine."
You continued and he followed, counting the steps despite how unnecessary it was. The android knew he had never been this scared in his life. This type of sensation was really, really unpleasant. His processors were giving him ridiculous warnings that didn't pertain at all to the situation.
He shut off the alerts and met you at the top of the bridge. His hand slid over the railing, analyzed the material as a strong timber, coated with a lacquer color called 'cedar brown', manufactured by-
Connor quickly closed the analyzed results, realizing how pointless that was. He was distracting himself, busying his processor with his manufactured purpose to avoid something he was definitely not made for.
At the top of the bridge, you turned to the man standing beside you, just in time to see him deactivate his human skin. His gaze met yours, and you smiled at the sight of RK800, as he was made, without the imitation of human-likeness.
For a moment, he stood there and let the heat of the sunlight catch on his sensor processors. The human tone of his factory issued skin flickered back on briefly before shutting back off, as Connor mentally questioned if he should do it like this.
The sudden nervous expression on his face, and his flickering pallet, had you concerned. In the sunlight, you could catch the subtle flaws in the design of his optics: the faint glimmer of a camera lens hidden beneath the almost perfect human appearance.
"Are you sure you're okay?" you asked, suddenly reaching for him. Your hand fell into the curve of his elbow.
"There's-" Connor began, stopping himself when a jogger passed the bridge. He was silent until they were gone.
"There's something important I need to ask you," Connor explained, his voice quiet and hoarse. "I'm sorry for not being more forthcoming. I was afraid."
Despite the obvious implications of what that question was, your head swarmed with the worst possibilities. The detective android, who had stormed a building of armed men to rescue you, who never hesitated to take a bullet for anyone, was afraid of something?
"Connor," you murmured, his name falling from your lips without purpose. The concern, however, was heavy in your tone.
"Before I ask, you need to know that you can refuse. There is no obligation, despite what we have been through. I won't hold any negative feelings towards you. From my research, this is premature, and I apologize for that," Connor babbled.
"What?" you blurted. "Connor, what are you - what's wrong?" you insisted, pitch rising as you started to panic.
"Nothing is wrong," he replied sharply.
He stepped back, just enough to create a few inches between you. You watched him reach into his coat pocket and pull out a small box. Mind hazy with the aftermath of Reaves' attack, you feared Connor was going to present you with evidence, that the case had taken a dangerous turn, or even inform you with the worst possible news.
But, then, Connor, cupping the small box in his palm, knelt down onto one knee. He looked up at you, brown eyes bright in the sunlight, android skin white as freshly fallen slow, failing to conceal the crease in his brow as worry sank in. The box opened, but you were too focused on his face to bother looking inside.
"Will you marry me?"
You could have laughed, at yourself, really, for thinking he was going to talk to you about Reaves, about factory-resetting computer chips, and the potential downfall of androids.
Instead, you let out a choked gasp. It was pathetically wet and embarrassingly loud. It all came pouring out before you could even think to stop it. Connor's nervous expression melted into panic when you started crying hysterically.
He was shifting to stand up, an apology hot on his tongue. He could feel his processors heating up, threatening to lock up at the sight of your tear-soaked face. It had his internal processes soaring, questioning if he had misinterpreted your relationship, your feelings for him.
You flung yourself into him before he could stand up, knocking the jewelry box right out of his hand. It clattered noisily on the bridge. If Connor was human, he would have followed; but, he was sturdy and, even unprepared, managed to stay upright as you crashed into him. His knees hit the bridge and his hands cautiously cupped your back.
"Yes!" you cried out, pressing your cheek into his coat, some odd centimeters from his thirium pump.
Your arms squeezed at his back, hands clawing into the thick fabric of his coat. Connor was unmoving, stiff where you clung to him. The artificial movements he made to appear more human had ceased, and you briefly feared he had powered down.
"Yes," you declared again, softer this time, squeezing him even tighter.
Finally, his systems relented and he properly relayed to his processor what you had just said. His arms wound around your back and, for the first time in weeks, Connor hugged you tightly, as if he wasn't afraid that he might hurt you. You could feel the tightening of his fingers tugging at your blouse, the thirium pump in perfect beats inside his chassis.
"Yes," you said again.
His cheek fell against your hairline and he closed his eyes. He wanted to dig his fingers past the fabric of your clothes, to feel your skin in a hopeless attempt to interface. Even if he could only reach your body, even if your mind was out of reach, that was good enough.
"Yes," again.
For now, the ring laid forgotten in its case, the jewelry box sitting some odd feet away, flipped on its side.
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Do you have any thoughts on how the guardian role is handled lore wise? Would you change much about being the guardian?
Oh yes I do and there's so much that I would change up.
The more we see of the Guardians, the dumber they are and the more pointless they are. To a point it's a wonder if they were worth the inclusion as they don't amount to much and are just useless. I'm putting this undercut as I just go off.
- Lore wise, they set it up that adults are naturally more powerful, so why did Fu pick two kids to fight his battles for him? Why not adults? Why did he leave them on their own instead of offering them some means to have an edge over HM?
- Of the Ladybug and Cat, we have yet to see anything unique that the Cat brings to these fights that the other 15 miraculi that Fu has with him couldn't do. You need a distraction that's going to mess up the akuma? Monkey and Fox. You need a protector/aggressor? Bee, Turtle, or Dragon. Ladybug is a must as its the only cleanser so far and has ML to boot, but Cat doesn't need to be out there, and as soon as HM had quite publicly stated that he wants LB and Cat, Fu should've reclaimed the Cat immediately to secure its safety and that HM won't get both. Another or two could go out to replace it.
- Why was picking Adrien a good idea? If Fu had just arrived in Paris, ok, but Backwarder reveals he's been living in Paris for a while. And with that, he's seen Adrien's face everywhere.s Adrien is potentially the most well known kid in Pari. Technically, for Fu's want of secrecy, why pick the most iconic face in Paris to get a miraculous? That sets up one of your heroes to always have attention on him. Fu picking Adrien doesn't make any logical sense.
- Why is Fu ok with endangering one kid but not the other? Why does Marinette get a test set up that risks her life and Fu's if it hadn't gone well and Adrien just helps an old man up, a common decency that most would do. It's like two extreme differences that don't work well in comparison as Marinette gets the risky test and Adrien it looks like he got his miraculous on a silver platter as he got the far easier one that takes the least effort to be a decent human being.
- Fu being a terrible mentor and hero picker in general and the whole shebang with Syren. If Adrien is not meeting his standards or if he doesn't trust Adrien at all, why is Adrien being allowed to continue as a hero? Or if he really wants Adrien to stay, why isn't he doing anything about Adrien? Why isn't he telling Plagg to encourage Adrien to step up and get serious? If he can take on the role of being Adrien's Chinese teacher, why not do that to try and guide Adrien to improvement so he can also be trusted with Guardian secrets too and truly help Marinette out. He's got two options when he doesn't trust Adrien or finds that he's meeting his standards: he takes the miraculous back or he addresses this issue himself.
- I also call big BS about him not doing anything at all when he comes upon Adrien detransformed on the roof with Plagg. Cause he's risking himself going out to find Chat Noir only to find him detransformed. That realistically should raise some brows and concern him. Adrien at least should've gotten a lecture or warning.
- Also the reveal that kwamis aren't allowed to know about their own power. that to me is off putting. It really stresses that kwamis are beneath them, these very ancient and powerful beings that have probably seen a lot. And canon validates it by making them children (which to me is the writers being lazy so they don't have to do complex characters).
- The whole thing with Fu's backstory. Dumbest backstory I've ever heard and it just paints Guardians in a really bad light, and by extension, real life monks. Monks didn't go to people's homes to take children. If they did take kids with them, those kids had nowhere else to go and offered them a place to stay until old enough to be on their own. And that test, omg, wtf. Ok, I can get the idea of a test of temptation, but there are other ways to perform it without starving a kid. Especially leaving said kid alone unsupervised with 19 powerful miraculi two of which have wish granting abilities. How would the Guardians even know if Fu used a miraculous as they left him alone with mriaculi. If Fu wanted to, he could've made a wish to never be picked.
- Fu didn't even do shit when he finally had a chance to face off against HM. He just sat in his damb ball and allowed himself to get knocked around. At least try and roll over him! Be a ping-pong ball! DO SOMETHING. Like, why did you even pick Turtle??? Turtle wasn't able to do anything against Butterfly! I thought it could as Fu had been ready to go in Origins, plus the 5 are based off Wu Xing, by set up, Fox and Turtle should have some sort of an edge over the Butterfly. But I guess that means there could be other options aside form LB and we can't have that, Marinette's miraculous needs to be the only thing to take on the Butterfly to really stress on the fact that it comes down to only her.
- The memory wipe thing that's an apparently must when you retire from being the Guardian. Honestly I think that should've been saved as a last resort if you're ever captured and could be forced to leak info, not when you retire. Doing so removes a valid source of advisement that a new Guardian can rely on. History is there to learn from it and this tradition removes a source of history to learn from, either from having guidance or seeing what the old did and how you want to change things. This also makes me concerned as I see Adrien taking advantage of an amnesiac Marinette.
- I went off about the NY Special revealing there's more Orders here.
- And lastly, Su-Han, the other Guardian to see aside from Fu. And with him, it solidifies how stupid they all are. When the Butterfly is being misused in Paris, why is someone aggressive and judgmental coming to Paris? Why is this guy even working with kids when he doesn't like kids? And the reveal that Guardians don't use miraculi at all. That just makes that test all the dumber with testers being unsupervised. And for Guardians not meant to use miraculi, how come Marinette gets a nice perk as LB that she can pull a miraculous out of her yo-yo? They're probably playing that she's "the first" to do so but realistically, I'm pressing x to doubt. In the long history of miraculi and when Guardians were around, you expect me to believe that Guardians never used miraculi themselves? What if there was no one to turn to, do they just the disaster happen? ...Well, based on how terrible canon is setting them up, I wouldn't be surprised.
SO.
There is a lot I would change up about the Guardians and for this, I'll adjust canon.
- Adrien gets the ring another way, maybe a gift from his mom or aunt or grandparents. Realistically, there's no logical reason for Fu to pick Adrien. He just has too much attention on him and Chat being an unexpected miraculous user can make him wary, adding to him only trusting Marinette.
- I'd have Fu be more present in Marinette's life, a customer who comes in a lot. This way he can offer advise when needed but not take away from Tikki. And this has him more closely keeping an eye on things.
- I'd change up Fu's backstory. He got separated from his family in a flood, the previous Turtle saved him, tried to help him find his family and with no luck, took him to the Temple, but only the section where other orphans are where they work to help take care of it, oblivious to the miraculous near them. After a year, Fu is one of the few selected to be entrusted with miraculous knowledge. He's surprised but not all that for it as he'd rather go find his family still. Idk how Temple falls but its not that. That was just dumb and avoidable.
- I wouldn't have Adrien meet Fu at all. In truth, it actually could've been cut out entirely as Adrien meeting Fu didn't amount to anything. He doesn't help with Guardian duties, doesn't help pick heroes, hasn't stepped up at all in his role as a partner. And he's not as torn up about Fu's loss as Marinette is. Adrien meeting Fu was pointless in the grand scheme of things. Nothing was progressed or changed from Adrien meeting Fu.
- I'd have HM ONLY getting an edge on Fu because Mayura was there to help him, catching Fu off guard. I want to see the Turtle truly in action, to see what else it can do cause sitting there to be smacked around was just unimpressive. And if Asstruck even did as much research as he could, he'd know that in Chinese mythology, the Turtle is a boss. It's the keeper of history and symbol of immortality, and it's up there with Tiger as an animal that can go toe to toe with the Dragon. And of the Four Symbols (associated with 4 seasons), the Black Turtle is also known as the Black Warrior. There should've been a lot more to Turtle than just sitting in your shell and allowing yourself to be knocked around.
- Su-Han I'd drastically change up. I'd keep in him being critical and stern, but he approaches things smartly and patiently. Before he dives into aggression and accusations, he wants to know what's going on. Why does this 14 yo have the Miracle Box? How was the Butterfly obtained and misused? And what the hell is going on??? How are these people so small and how did they get into this thin glass box?? Computer? What's a computer??? Essentially, have fun with the fact that Su-Han is essentially a time traveler and one great bonding experience to have with Marinette while also offering some good comedy is him learning about the modern time and her acting as his guide. Su-Han can give her guidance that Fu hadn't been able to give, and Marinette can offer her own in a way that Su-Han will need. Which by extension could remove Marinette having a near mental breaking point and revealing herself to Alya, and could avoid some of that drama of what's coming.
- Speaking of which, Adrien. I'd use Su-Han to finally address the issues with Adrien as a hero and partner. Su-Han prioritized Marinette as she has the Miracle Box, but Adrien is someone he'd take the miraculous away from. Adrien would get a very clear warning and call out for his actions and role.
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erejean | pretty
RIVALS TO LOVERS SUPREMACY
i’m so sorry i just love erejean and i could go on about why i think they actually have a beautiful friendship in canon
edit: i wrote this while half asleep so i’m sorry
warnings/notes: cursing, college au!, eren’s personality doesn’t change too much, hopeless pining, this is short, this is messy, internalized homophobia, coming out, gay awakening
eren and jean have been rivals ever since they could remember. no one really knows how it started, but the only thing they did know it that one out of the two of them were acting a little weird.
unlike usual, he was oddly silent towards one another and often faced each other with flushing faces. he gave the other longing looks when he wasn’t looking.
eren genuinely didn’t know what was happening. for the past two to three years, jean’s always irritated the hell out of eren. eren’s even the one who came up with the ridiculous nickname of ‘horse face’.
but now, he thinks jean’s pretty... and handsome. eren doesn’t exactly know what happened, he just knows that ever since the end of senior year that his annoyance for jean has decreased almost into nothing.
okay, eren is kind of lying to himself.
eren still is annoyed by jean, but it isn’t like before. eren never used to be annoyed at how jean’s eyelashes were long and pretty. he never had been annoyed about how his hands were bigger in comparison to his own, he’d never want to hold them. he’d never been annoyed about how jean’s body wasn’t against his, encasing eren with his odd ember fire.
he hated how jean looks so pretty whenever he thinks to himself, he hates how jean looks so stupidly beautiful whenever he’s drawing. he hates how pretty jean looks whenever he laughs, and he hates that he wants that smile to stay there forever.
but what eren hates the most is that he isn’t even gay.
eren’s never really found men attractive growing up, but that didn’t exactly mean that he found girls attractive. eren had only ever dated one girl, who was now a lesbian with a girlfriend and also his close friend.
the only boy eren ever thought was cute was armin. but eren always brushed it off since the two of them were childhood friends. usually childhood friends find each other cute right? and cuddly? and... y’know what, nevermind.
eren sits in his room beside his bed, crying into the palms of his hands from confusion. he’s tried so hard to feel something for girls, any girl that would throw herself at him, but it didn’t work. eren can’t even get hard if he thinks about girls in a sexual manner, but finds himself doing so when thinking of men.
he’s so confused. he’s never been so confused in his entire life.
“eren, do you want anything from... are you okay,” eren looks up to see armin’s face bunched up with concern.
eren wipes away his tears even though it’s pointless because the tears keep flooding over. he can’t help but sob now, too embarrassed at how he’s feeling. armin’s on the floor beside eren within seconds, arms wrapping around eren’s broad shoulders and pulling him into his chest.
eren’s hands weave themselves into the loose fabric of armin’s forest green turtleneck, finally letting everything he’d been holding in out.
eren hates how he confused he is. armin’s shushing him while tracing circles into the fabric of his hoodie, and eren knows that armin is anxious. before eren can try and calm himself down, there’s a gasp from his doorway and the sound of footsteps coming closer. he assumes that mikasa is home, to which he’s correct.
“eren, what’s wrong,” she asks gently, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.
he chokes out a sob, digging his head further into armin’s shirt.
“just wait until he’s calmed down to ask,” armin advises, continuing to trace patterns into his back.
it takes a few minutes for eren to be able to speak, and even then it’s difficult.
“eren, what’s wrong,” armin pulls his knees to his chest, ignoring the dampness on his shirt.
“i’m... i’m confused,” he sighs after a sniffle, hand wiping away a tear.
“about what,” mikasa questions with an eyebrow raised.
“fuck,” he hisses from frustration, “i don’t know what i like.”
“like? do you mean hobbies?”
“no.”
“things? stuff like books or cheese?”
“no.”
“food?”
“no!”
“people?”
eren stays silent, now pulling his own knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. mikasa and armin give eren a sympathetic look, they both had gone through this as well.
“you think you like men,” mikasa treads carefully, not wanting to upset eren even more than he already is.
“yea,” his voice shakes along with his hands.
“what boy?” armin tilts his head back to lean against eren’s mattress.
“jean,” eren sighs, already feeling himself start to tear back up.
mikasa hums in confirmation, “i see.”
eren’s crying again, absolutely ashamed of himself.
“he just... i hate him ‘cause he’s so pretty and caring. whenever i’m angry, he tries not to make it worse. he pays attention to the stupidest little details, like how i like the crunchier parts of the bread on chicken. he’s so warm, it’s like he’s constantly on fire and i just.. i wanna be surrounded by it. he’s actually really thoughtful whenever he’s not trying to be a douche, and i hate it,” eren cries while he puts his head on mikasa’s muscular shoulder.
“and there’s nothing wrong with being gay, i mean literally nothing. i just hate that i’m confused. what does this mean? i haven’t felt like this towards him before, so why now,” he sniffles, “fuckin’ stupid.”
“y’know... armin and i once felt like this before,” mikasa says, a small and comforting smile coming up onto her face.
“about marco and annie,” he asks, and shifts his gaze to armin.
“yes. whenever i first realized in sophomore year, i was so confused and upset. annie was so pretty, and boys weren’t. at the time, it all felt so wrong, like it wasn’t meant to be that way,” mikasa explains with hesitance, “i told armin i like girls, and he told me he liked boys and that he felt the same way during freshman year. we hated how confused we were, and we hated that we liked the same sex.”
“but all it takes is acceptance from yourself,” armin smiles, “it’s okay to be confused, eren. you’re still 19, you’ve got so much time to figure out who you even are. also, even if you say there’s nothing wrong with being gay, there’s a chance you’ll have internalized homophobia towards yourself. it’s okay to be a gay man named eren yeager. and it’s okay to be confused. you don’t need to rush it, set your own pace.”
“armin’s right. eren, we love you no matter what. you mean the world to the both of us, even if you’re confused with your identity. it’s okay to explore those feelings, and it’s okay to be wrong about them. either way, we love you so much, eren,” mikasa wipes a tear from his eye with her thumb.
eren wants to cry again just from how loving the two of his friends are.
“thanks you guys, i love you too,” he chuckles as they’re all pulled into a group hug.
————
two months later, eren’s telling all of his friends. they accept him with open arms, which isn’t too surprising, but it makes him happy nonetheless.
another month, he’s telling his superiors at his work. they’re the closest eren has to parents since his mom and dad died, and they accepted him happily. he wasn’t too surprised, but even so it made him cry. knowing that he was loved no matter what made him emotional.
another month later, he’s telling one of the most important people in his life. his brother, who raised him and mikasa since his parents died. he’s once again accepted with open arms, and is even reminded that zeke has brought home boys whenever they both were younger. he’s so lucky.
but even after all this, he’s still crushing on jean. only now, he’s more accepting of how he wants jean to kiss him.
eren also thinks jean is an idiot.
eren has made multiple moves on the muffin top, but he hasn’t even realized. eren’s linked pinkies with jean while his face reddens, he’s fed jean, he’s even resorted to telling him horrible pickup lines.
what makes it worse is that jean thinks this is a rivalry thing again, god knows how.
what’s even more annoying is the fact that jean so obviously likes eren back, but eren is also too stupid to notice. eren, somehow, doesn’t notice how his face shows up in jean’s sketchbook more than it should. he doesn’t notice the flirty innuendos that jean tells him.
and it’s so annoying.
everyone feels this is even more annoying then whenever the two were at each other’s throats 24/7.
jean yawns while he stretches his arms towards the sky, pencil falling from his fingers and onto the paper of his sketchbook. he’s been outside drawing for two hours now, practicing landscapes and drawing under a short amount of time.
eren’s sleeping beside him on the grass, head resting on jean’s book bag while his arms hold his hoodie to his chest. some of eren’s hair is falling out of the bun it’s in, swishing silently as the wind begins to blow softly against their bodies.
jean thinks eren looks so pretty. with a cautious hand, he tucks a strand behind eren’s pierced ear. eren’s skin his warm against jean’s hand, even though the wind has been blowing gently on eren’s snoozing face.
jean brushes eren’s baby hairs out of his face, softly smiling at eren’s serenity. and before he can stop himself, his cheek is in the palm of jean’s large hand.
jean’s thumb strokes his cheekbone while the rest of his fingers get tangled into eren’s hair.
“pretty,” jean mumbles while he smiles.
for some reason, jean doesn’t pull his hand away. even when eren eyes start to flutter open and look at him. even whenever eren’s cheeks darken.
“you’re pretty, y’know,” jean says, ignoring how the setting sun was starting to get in his eyes.
“you’re not too bad yourself, horsey,” eren snickers while jean rolls his eyes and scoffs.
they’re left in a comfortable silence as jean finally pulls away and turns back to the sketchbook in his lap.
it showed no progress of landscapes and random people, only a drawing of eren sleeping.
————
eren and jean find themselves looking at the stars while standing in the lake a month later. it’s hot during june, even during the late nights where the sun has been put to rest.
which is why they came up with the bright idea to go swimming in a lake at 12 in the morning. the idea wasn’t even planned, eren decided on a whim and just decided to drag jean along.
jean points up towards the stars, “the big dipper.”
eren follows his finger, a huge smile spreading across his face at jean’s correct assumption.
“there’s the constellation of gemini,” eren says while pointing.
“makes sense since it’s june.”
eren nods, looking towards jean.
he looks so pretty in the moonlight.
“hey jean.”
“yeah, what do you wan—!”
eren interrupts jean by splashing him with water, hearty laughs echoing through the terrain as goes on.
“not cool,” jean tries to say angrily, but ends up laughing.
he splashes eren back and then retreats deeper into the lake. eren follows behind, tackling jean under the water. they both laugh once they come to the surface, pointing out how the water now reached their thighs.
“that’s why we’re here, jean. to get wet,” he raises an eyebrow while putting his hands on jean’s shoulders.
“yeah, heads up!” jean shouts while he dunks eren under the water while on top of him.
they’re once again laughing when they resurface, both trying to catch the breath that had been taken out of them.
“you’re hair looks good wet,” eren says while gesturing to jean.
“i always look good,” jean jokes, eren snorting obnoxiously afterwards.
“whatever helps you sleep at night, man,” eren shrugs.
the two goof around for a few minutes longer, laughs echoing against the trees and back into their ears.
neither of them want this to end.
eren has an arm wrapped around jean as he holds himself up, laughing stupidly at god knows what. jean laughs as well, heart fluttering sweetly at the sight of eren’s pretty smile.
and jean doesn’t know how to think.
so, he pulls eren straight up, grabs ahold of his plump and warm cheeks and gives him a sweet kiss.
the sweetest kiss eren’s ever had.
eren reciprocates shyly, pushing his lips back against jean’s. he grabs at jean’s bicep, wanting to ground himself just to make sure that he isn’t dreaming.
jean pulls away whenever they need air, resting his forehead against eren’s.
“i love you,” he whispers to him breathily, moving his hands to hold onto eren’s.
“i love you too,” eren chuckles and stares into jean’s eyes, “even if you’re an idiot that looks like a horse.”
jean rolls his eyes, and instead of replying to eren, he gives eren another kiss. he’ll tell eren that he’s pretty after.
#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#snk#aot fanfiction#snk fanfiction#snk eren#eren aot#attack on titan eren#eren yaegar#eren x jean#erejean#jean kirstein#jean kirschstein#jean aot#snk jean#aot jean
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I am at your side
Words: 4k
Tags: Angst(?), argument, fluff
FemaleReader x Galadriel
As her maid, it is your duty to report informations to Lady Galadriel, even if they might break her...
First Age
It was such a beautiful morning. Autumn offered its shimmering colors, red and golden leaves contrasted with the whiteness of the early frost on the grass.
You were standing at a window on the Menegroth’s Palace, taking some moments to appreciate the beautiful landscape of Beleriand before going back to your work.
You were Lady Galadriel's maid, the one who organised everything around her so she wouldn’t be interrupted in her duties by something trivial. You were at her service to anticipate every need she might have and to provide a solution to any problem she might encounter in her everyday life.
Needless to say you were constantly by her side and a great trust had built between the two of you over time, so much that you were introduced to the other members of the court as not a mere servant, but her lady companion. You take great pride in this and in your abilities in your work.
Your gaze was fixed at the sunrise, progressively illuminating all the realm of their Royal Highnesses Thingol and Melian.
With your eyes closed and your arms opened, you take a deep breath of the early fresh air and let the mist caress the skin on your face as it fades away before the sun.
You were glad to be able to move here with your Lady. Due to your trade you didn't really have the occasion to travel around the world. You were delighted to hear Lady Galadriel required your presence during her residency in Menegroth, and you were determined to make this stay the most refined experience for the both of you. After all, not everyone got the chance to learn from Queen Melian in her own city.
It had been almost a year since you both moved to Menegroth, and though at first, Lady Galadriel dedicated all her soul to her duty, you could say that her beautiful enthusiasm had slightly... faded.
She still assumed her charges with great rigor, but you could see that her heart was not there anymore.
It wasn’t your place nor your right to ask her about it ; if she wanted you to know she would have already told you. You knew the best way to help her out was to do your job properly and you were determined to do it impeccably.
Luck was on your side as the royal couple had to gone to inspect the Girdle of Melian, the work schedule of your Lady is reduced. She could take a day off to enjoy all Doriath had to offer and relieve some stress.
When you opened your eyes again, Arien’s ship illuminated the realm before you and her light slowly reached the Palace. It was now time to get to your work. As you walked away from the stone arches to the stairs, you started thinking about the morning of Lady Galadriel. A hot cup of tea in a cold and relaxing bath would be perfect to start her day.
You walked down the stairs and corridors, your feet following the rhythm of an old melody the King Finrod once taught you.
He was always nice to you when you were young, and even as a king he seemed so approachable and open minded. But still, he was an odd character. He always seemed pleased, whenever the circumstances were and you find his...interest for mankind misplaced. You didn't hate humans, far from that, but the less they interfered with the Elves, the better the both species lived. Everything was fine in the royal family before Princess Lúthien met that man... Berin? Beran? It didn’t matter. King Finrod also seemed to have him in sympathy and it worried your Lady, but there was nothing to do about it. You just hoped her older brother was alright, with his oath to accomplish.
You finally reached the kitchens. Everyone has already started their work and you had to prepare the light meal while trying to avoid all the agitation. You almost got hit by a plate on your head, but a quite fair waiter flew to your rescue and you avoided a catastrophe... But not a sideslip on the floor... With some condiments... With the waiter.
“Dear Lord! I am sorry Miss, this platter is truly heavy and I couldn’t concentrate on obstacles on my way, I should have paid more at—”
You stopped him with a gesture of the hand. Obviously he was new on the job. It was pointless to start a scene in front of his colleagues. Even if his clumsiness had just ruined your dress.
“It's alright, boy. Just remember to watch where you’re going and always distribute the weight correctly,” you said, rearranging what was left of the items on the silver surface to illustrate your words. He watched how your experienced hands moved to learn from them.
“Here! Just like that,” you added with a comforting smile. He smiled back at you with embarrassment and gratitude before his boss called him back to hearth with vehemence and he flew away to his task. You watched with amusement until his superior glared at you, clearly inviting you to get back on track.
While you were gathering some fresh fruits in a cup, you couldn’t help but to observe her methods to lead the brigade of servers, and Valar... You thought you were hard with your subordinates, but you have room for improvement! Maybe you should borrow some of her methods... No, your subordinates would hate you for sure.
The poor boy, thanks to this little misadventure, had caught her attention and she was ready to scold him at every minute mistakes he could make, barking at him in front of all their teammates, who had the decency to mind their own business. You guessed that perfection and adamancy are prices to pay to be able to serve the greatest people in the world. It reminded you of your own debut as a maid—how many times had you had to keep your jaws crushed closed in front of your superiors? Too many for your taste, to be honest, but you were the boss now, thanks to the discipline and the abnegation they taught you. It was hard, but it was worth enduring.
Before you left, you glanced back at the servant and the barking butler. She was still harsh but demonstrated more efficient ways to navigate through a crowd with weight. You smiled to yourself. He would be alright. He just needed time to gain some experience. And you, you missed time to change your clothes. Bad luck ; it would have to wait. You had already run out of time, and picked up the pace.
On your way, an ellon between some columns caught your eye. The Lord Celeborn. You had already noticed Lady Galadriel’s interest in him, and his in her. Or rather, you had "unintentionally" overheard a conversation where he admitted it to one of his friends. And you were maybe, or maybe not, the reason behind some of their encounters in some strangely convenient, quiet, intimate places.
He surely didn't suspect a thing from you ; you know how to make yourself transparent next to your Lady. But you were almost certain that she knew.
She just let you plot. Surely it amused her : she once told you that your sneaky side reminds her of her cousins, some redheaded twins. She went quiet when you implied you didn't have the pleasure to know them. You didn't try to know more.
You would have loved to learn one or two other things about Celeborn, but you were already late and in a messy state. How unlike you!
While you traveled through an unreasonably huge room near the entrance, you heard the sound of a massive wood door slamming against a wall and a bunch of rushed footsteps. You overheard some hushed and stressed voices among the clatters of armor. Had something happened to their Highnesses? If so, your duty would be to inform your Lady, so she can advise for the future.
As you got closer to the entrance, some other attendants and companions of the nobility were already gathered with some guards, undeniably those who have just returned. The moment you reached out to them, the leader of the patrollers was silencing the little crowd, a broad smile on his face.
"Peace! Peace, please. The divine providence has given us back our Princess!"
Murmurs and prayers of relief browsed the assembly. At last, the Princess was finally home. You also felt relieved. The eight of months of worries and sorrow will finally be removed from the shoulders of their Royals Highness!
The captain hushed the group again, with a more concerned expression.
"You! Go find the healers and conduct them to the Heir and her human consort. They have been injured during their journey. You! Take a horse and gallop to the King and Queen, hurry!"
The Princess was injured? Assuredly it's not a pleasant thing, but she was alive and with her loved one. The House of Thingol was now safe… So why did you feel a pressure in your throat? When you looked at the captain, you felt a deep unease, as if he would add something terrible. You waited, holding your breath.
He seemed to seek someone in the crowd with a concerned gaze.
“Is someone here under the order of the Lady Galadriel?” he asked.
Valar… Here we go. You cleared your throat and responded with a confident voice.
“I am!”
He spotted you in the multitude and started approaching you while the others followed his orders. You straightened your back, to give an assurance. He guided you away from the other and you asked under your breath.
“What’s the matter?”
He looked at you dead in the eye and replied.
“Miss, it is about her brother. Something happened to King Finrod…”
--------------------------------------------
You felt sick, your feet guided you through some corridors to Lady Galadriel's apartments but your vision was blurred. You couldn't stop thinking, so much information swirled in every direction in your head…
The Princess, the silmaril, the tea, your dress, your Lady, the oath... King Finrod… You felt the nausea rising in your throat.
How?
Why?
Your head spun so much you had to take support on the wall, the heart right behind your lips. How were you going to announce this to Lady Galadriel ? Her dear brother. They didn't deserve this fate.
The rest of the court has been warned the Princess was back, but the truth about King Finrod was confidential, at least for now. You distinguished yourself from the opulent cheerfulness and felicity with your pale face. All the songs of gladness couldn't reach your heart, closed by the truth.
Now, stay focused! You had to inform your Lady. What kind of aid faints while giving news to their master, as bad and terrible as the news could be?
As you get back some senses, a light tune reached your ears. The crowd in the Palace was singing in joy and among every melody in existence, they have chosen the one Finrod taught you. What were the odds…
You finally reached Lady Galadriel’s door, heavy hearted. As your hand was about to knock, all the past few weeks with her instantly flashed in your mind. Her odd affliction who grew up so suddenly, tainted her fëa. And now this…
You took several seconds and a deep breath before knocking. You waited again for several seconds before hearing a response.
“Come in.”
Her voice was firm as always, but a little muffled. You swallowed and entered the room with the most neutral face you could feign. You definitely couldn’t step in with a huge smile like nothing happened, but you couldn’t alarm her either.
You found her in a chair by her balcony. You were glad it was oriented to the waterfalls of the mountains and not to the inner garden were everyone was singing, at least you had some privacy.
“Good morning, milady. How is the view today?” you asked, walking to a table to serve the tea.
Okay, you surely had more inspired lines before.
“It’s nothing new,” she replied.
She, also, had better comebacks.
You observed her while you brought a cup. Seated on a low chair, she silently observed the horizon. Her complexion reflected her exhaustion, with darker tones under the eyes and waxen cheeks. She hugged herself, and you mentally traced the circuit of veins under the skin of her arms that were now visible.
The blond of her hair was now dull, you remembered from the last time you groomed her mane: the comb emerged with many wires of fallen hair, which is highly unusual for elves. You tried to inform her casually, and she then refused to be curled by someone else than herself since.
Your throat twisted more at the sight of the elleth who once was an unwavering lady.
Even thought she was able to disguise her state under a mask of dignity and fool everyone else, inside her room, in the intimacy of her private cocoon, you could only watch the diminishment of her health. Day by day you saw her fading with a constricting feeling of helplessness.
“Are you well?”
Her question brought you back to reality, you realised you were standing next to her, silently staring at her while she waited for her cup. Now that her face was turned to you, you could see the fatigue in her eyes…
"I'm sorry, my Lady. I'm fine… " you answered, "... While you savour your tea, I will prepare you a bath for you to relax."
You desperately needed time to clear your mind and prepare yourself. This was also her last peaceful morning before long, she deserved some time for herself before you broke her heart definitively…
"Wait."
You stopped dead on your tracks.
"My Lady?"
"Stay with me, I would enjoy some company this morning."
Without a word you filled an empty teacup and took a chair beside her.
"Thank you. My tea always tastes better when I drink it with a friend," she added with a sweet but low voice.
You gently clattered your cups and admired the colours of the waterfalls under the morning sun. You just took a cup for the act, to please her, but felt like you could never take a sip of it. While you both remained silent, you could sometimes hear the sound of footsteps rushing towards the hall with some giggles. You played nervously with your goblet, knowing that you couldn't keep the truth from her eternally, that you should tell her now before she hears it from someone else in a far less convenient situation…
But you couldn’t…
You were out of words.
Everytime you tried to tell her, your words got stuck in your throat or disappeared the moment they reached your mouth.
How could you possibly tell her that her beloved brother, the most gentle soul you had come across in your millennium life, was dead? His body was buried so far away, she wouldn't be able to mourn him at his sepulchre…
You looked at her, to engrave her vision in your memory. She looked so frail at this moment, would the news finish her off? Would she lose her will and seek to join him?
And you? Would you be able to endure it? To lose her?
After the death of the brother, could you handle the loss of your Lady?
Your...
oh...
so dear...
Lady
Your sunshine.
A gentle touch on your cheek wakes you up from your trance.
Your gaze was still fixed on Lady Galadriel, as she brushed off a single tear rolling out of your eye.
“Talk to me, my dear. What happened? You are usually so jovial, but your fëa is submerged by shadows today.”
You couldn't help but to rest your head in the warmth of her palm.
You were deplorable, she was the one who lost her brother and she was the one comforting you. You clenched your jaws and removed all your tears with the back of your hand.
“My lady, I am sorry to present myself to you in such an inappropriate state.”
You take a deep breath as you rose up from your seat to gather yourself.
“My Lady, I do have something to tell you!”
Your own words seemed to strangle yourself, but you were able to keep an assured voice.
“This morning, her Highness Princess Lúthien came back with her human consort to the court, safe and sound."
You were about to continue when you saw her cower. Somehow, this information seemed to trouble her immensely.
You watched her shudder, unsure how to continue this conversation now.
And then…
It just clicked in your mind.
Your eyes widened, dead silent before your sudden realisation.
"You knew..."
———————
She looked up at you, with a silent pleading in her eyes.
You didn't want to believe it, but it would explain everything.
"You knew… He would never return, and you just let him go."
"I did not just let him go!" she replied with a voice filled with anger.
She let a frustrated sigh escape but remained calm.
"I did know what was going to happen. I foresaw it the day he described to me his first encounter with mankind."
You just sat in silence on your chair again. You didn't want to interrupt her.
"I warned him his passion towards mortals will harm him, but he just stayed still with the most elated smile I have ever seen…"
She looked right in front of her, reviving the instant, as if King Finrod was really there with you.
"He just said: Let it be, sister, for if it is my destiny to die at the side of men, I will take it as an honor.He was so confident, so determined. I knew I wouldn't be able to make him reconsider… I'm sure you know it is impossible to say no to him when he makes up his mind...”
Oh yes, you knew.
“It happened such a long time ago… I even convinced myself my vision was nothing more than a projection of my fears and not a fragment of the future. I even.... managed to forget about it. Until he announced to me about his oath.”
Her voice cracked while speaking of this... accursed oath. You started to sense the ire slowly rising in your veins. Why did she had to suffer all of this ?
"Everything came back in my mind with such force. I tried to convince him one last time, but… I knew I wouldn’t succeed. For his destiny was already decided… his death was for a greater good that I can't see yet."
She stopped, out of breath, as if speaking required too much energy.
You both jumped out of your skins when some younglings started to bange at all the doors of the corridors while gigglings and yelling about the return of the Princess. It looks like celebrations revealed the most silly side of the younger generation.
Lady Galadriel stood up to regain a certain composure, her gaze at the horizon.
A strange silence between you hung up in the air after the laughs of the younglings, deafening and stifling but it was still more comfortable than the reality of your situation. You had the childish thought that if you didn’t speak about it then it wouldn’t be real anymore, that you could open the door of her apartment and King Finrod would have been behind it the whole time, just wanting to surprise his cherished little sister.
Alas, reality has rarely resorted to such niceties. Happy endings are for old melodies.
Surely this is why we sing them…
"It pains me greatly… Never again I will wake up to his harp morning practice. He loved so much to see his city awakening under his notes. Never again he will come to me to aid him with his accounting." She chuckled a little. "He hated it!"
"I know! I spent several sleepless nights helping you because he couldn't help falling asleep while working on it," You added while joining her side on the balcony. "I am sure we both know the economic state of his kingdom better than himself!"
You both laughed at those memories.
It felt right, it felt… liberating.
But she quickly became silent again.
"When we were children, he promised me he would guide me to the altar the day of my wedding if our parents couldn't… He already had his costume ready, way before I found my soulmate."
Indeed, it sounded just like him.
"Now I would have to descend the aisle alone. It is the only promise he won't be able to accomplish."
Tears fell down silently from her exhausted face.
You were sympathetic to her but you couldn’t fully understand the depth of her pain and distress for none of your loved ones had died. You could only imagine what she was going through and offer her warmth and little comfort.
"It pains me so much it is killing me. I can feel it, deep in my flesh. It started..."
“... when your brother died,” you guessed.
“Yes. The very moment he passed away, his voice reached me. I heard his wail in my sleep and his last scream keeped me awake for the rest of the night until you came in the morning.”
You remembered. You found her sitting on her bed oddly straight and tense. Her gaze was fixed in front of her, but seemed lost to the void. Her ailment started to appear the day after. You scolded yourself for not investigating more and accepted her excuse of a "bad night," even if she wasn't properly lying.
To be awakened by a loved one's final call must be the most dreadful experience.
"I still hear him, you know? Everytime I close my eyes, his pleading haunts me. Every night, his cries reach me." Her voice began to be more erratic and she began trembling again. "I see him in every shadow, I catch his silhouette in the corner of my eyes but he is never here when I turn my head."
She was fully crying now. You had never seen her like that, in such distress.
So you overstepped your position and took her in your arms. You held her in a tight embrace to support her, for she could not fall apart.
"Please my Lady, calm down."
She did not respond at first, but you finally felt her arms around you, pulling you even closer as if you were her last grasp on reality at this instant.
"I see him everywhere. I know he is not here, but I can not let him go…"
You stayed silent again, while wanting to say something. Anything. But words are vain in those moments. Only time is able to cure such wounds… If they could heal at all. So you just held her tighter and let her head rested on your shoulder while feeling her tears soaked through your dress. She buried her face in your neck.
You weren’t sure how much time passed that way and you just started to cradle her gently. You were certain it was inappropriate but you feel like if you didn’t have to follow the protocol and the etiquette for once, it would be now!
You listened to her, made her sure you were attentive to her pain and offered the warmth of a presence.
However, you were not prepared for what she was saying next.
"I am sorry…"
Her voice was so low and hoarse, you were not sure of what you had just heard.
"For what, my Lady?"
"For my lack of bravery… I have to be strong for my people, particularly now, with the chaos that is to come. But… I feel so helpless! I can't clearly see the threat which rises upon us, I have not been able to prevent the death of my brothers… …”
You moved away from her, incredulous, and locked your eyes to hers.
“You are brave! Braver than most of us, many could not do your duty as well as you did under mourning. Don’t lose faith in yourself. We are all with you… I am with you.”
You took a step back and knelt before her. She watched you quietly in confusion.
“I wish to reassert my loyalty and take an oath of allegiance to my Lady.”
Head bowed and right hand closed over your heart, you started to declaim your vows with an assured voice.
“Here, I swear on my head I shall faithfully perform my duties to the best of my abilities. I shall never embarrass or bring shame over the House of my Lady and her Blood...”
You raised your head to see her face with a sight full of determination.
“But above all, I swear to follow you everywhere, in Light as in Darkness, in Arda as in oblivion, in honour as in infamy. To be faithful to your Person and your Name, and to never leave your sight at any given time during our earthly lives and beyond death.”
Galadriel listened to you respectfully, her tears drying while she regained her composure.
She silently gave you her hand, which you kissed and brought to your forehead almost religiously.
“Rise up.”
You obeyed, now determined to protect and serve your Lady at all cost and your instinct told you that it will happen sooner than you could imagine.
She observed you quietly as she was taking the measure of your words. She placed a chaste kiss on your lips to seal your vows.
You secretly wished the kiss was more lingering, but you kept it for yourself.
“Thank you,” she responded.
Her breath was still short, but her voice had regained her assertiveness.
You both turned back to the waterfalls, the songs slowly reached your ears again now that the emotion started to come down.
In fact, everything seemed more clear now. You felt lighter, as if a blindfold had been removed from your eyes as the fog dissipated under the rays of a morning sun.
You had now faith in the future.
At the side of your Lady, together, you felt confident you could face anything destiny had prepared for you.
--------------------------------
Specials thanks to @arofili for their help during the entire process ! ❤️
This is my first fic, constructive criticism will be much appreciated :)
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