#he’s my guy. I will excuse everything because he’s hot and powerful and the Chosen One

[daxromana]

The thing about Anakin in TCW is that he has already committed atrocities. He killed an entire village for what happened to his mother, a village of a species that he chose to regard as animals. So any AU that diverges before Anakin goes full Dark Side still has to grapple with that!!! He’s still a murderer, on a scale and in a way that is extremely hard to be sympathetic to.

[scarareg]

Percy Jackson and The Olympians Season 1 Review (1/3)

What I like:

It has color! Disney tends to do their live actions shows/series dark or gray ,so I am pleasant to see colors popping up on the screen. Walker's eyes and the orange shirts are a highlight for me!

Set design is impressive! The team behind it did an excellent job. Each cabin is INSANE! Olympus is sooooo marvelous as well!

I was doubting of Lin being casted as Hermes but he proved me wrong and he did a great job

NICO DI ANGELO'S VOICE!

The credits are so cool and cute! Love the art!

Like the casting for Ares, Dionysus, Poseidon, Sally and Hephaestus

NICO DI ANGELO SCREAMING "BIANCA"

I can see why Walker was chosen as Percy. He fits the character so well,has the vibe,the mannerism,the eyes. My only complaint is the hair,they could and should have made him wear a wig. If Miley Cyrus could do it, Walker can! They have the money to buy one,there are not excuses

Seeing the Mythomagic deck was super cool! Love the design!

Cerberus!

In all seriousness,they foreshadowing the di Angelo siblings using their voices was smart AF, because casting them at this point requires a lot of hard work,time and money that may not pay off

Percy driving scene,love it!

The scene of Grover being pulled to Tartarus is really well done and faithful to the books, truly makes you feel the tension of the moment!

Sally in the rain while Logical by Liv Rodrigo is playing is incredible,completely in love with that scene! My girl just wants to feel a ounce of how she felt while being with Poseidon,it is so tragic!

The Lightning Bolt and Hades Helmet are sooo cool, really well design,I want them!

Ares bleeding Ichor!

The interaction between Poseidon and Percy was cute and I like what Poseidon said about Percy having trouble following rules, but that it was his fault because that is how the ocean is . Super wholesome moment!

Percy calling Kronos grandpa is hilarious

Stuff I feel conflicted about:

Even if I love to see what Mythomagic looks like, I feel that making it a demigod stuff instead of Nico's precious hobby takes away from him. The game is in part a connection to his past, to his era, his sister and a side that divides him from the rest. Nico feels like an outcast even among outcasts, and the other demigods feel he is kinda strange. Even Percy, who tried to be friendly, thought Mythomagic was lame. I don't know, I just think it should be only his stuff

What I dislike:

The entire cast looks nothing like their book counterparts and it is distracting to me. I am going to compare it to the One Piece Live Action to explain my feelings. With OP I did not need to be told who was who ; and I already was fangirling that Coby was in the background,or Buggy will be next episode, or Helmeppo is hot for some reason,etc. Here I was like "some dudes are looking at Percy,is he supposed to be Luke? I do not know. He may be,but I am not sure." And hey,look at that ,he turned out to be Luke!. I don't know,I don't love that, it takes away from the experience and characters

Percy was angsty in a way that feels out of character to me. Like,in the books he was sad that his mother "died",obviously,but he still had his kindness. Here, his anger was more reminiscent of Harry after Sirius died in the books. Trashing everything,yelling,full of fury. And it felt wrong for Percy to act like that. For example: in the books when Percy finally wakes up, he tells Grover that they are still friends and that he know he did everything in his power to help him and his mother. In the show Percy is super cold and actively distances himself from Grover until the quest is going to start, and it feels like Percy chose Grover to go with him because that's how the book go, yet Show Percy dont feel particularly excited for Grover to be there,he dont seems to miss him after their fight , nor thinks of him as his best friend. He said himself "finally I have friend" referring to Luke and the other guys in camp,meaning Grover was not. Which takes me to the next point

Grover is treated awfully by the writers. Everyone keeps telling him to go away. Chiron and Mr D. seem tired of him. In Lotus Casino, Percy and Annabeth acted like they were forgiving him for forgetting them,even if they knew it wasn't his fault that he didn't remember. The writers made the naiad give Percy four pearls only to make Grover lose one, which was unnecessary and just makes him look stupid or incompetent. The list goes on,you get the idea. Grover is not treated with respect by either writers or the narrative

We were told but not shown Annabeth's fear of spiders (that is another problem of the show,it tells but don't show), they didn't mention her passion for architecture and dreams of becoming an architect. Also,I don't love the idea of her listening to Luke's plan. My girl is supposed to still have hope for Luke to change his mind,she believes in his kindness and is in negation and defends him when people calls him "evil" for four books in a row. They taking away all these details ,plus she not having a crush on Luke feels like they are taking away what makes Annabeth herself while removing the side of her that is just a teenager girl. She is supposed to be kind as well, that is why people like Frank feel safe asking her for help because he knows she is not going to laugh of him. Here she is way more stoic. You can be smart and warm at the same time,Rick. It is possible, you wrote it that way 18 years ago

Sally yelling to Percy. I know that people say we should not trust Book Percy's POV because he sees his mom as perfect (fair point) but I think that if Percy has such a great perception of her is for a reason. Also ,I am willing to believe that if Percy says his mother never got mad and screamed at him for being expelled from schools,it's because is true. In the show almost all the flashbacks are her shouting at him. Book Sally don't do that because she understands,she knows who Percy's father is,she knows what having a child of him would mean,she knows that the magical and strange stuff that Percy experience is not his fault; that is why she is patient and kind,and what makes her such a great,mature,kind mother; and they took that away from her.

The acting was not the best in the first episodes. Now ,it got better as the show went on, but in the first 3 episodes legit feels like they are reading the script from a carbon board. I do not know if it is because of the directors or lack of experience playing the characters and that is why it improves later on or what, but it is really noticeable

They are skipping or cutting scenes really weirdly , just fading to black and showing the aftermath of situations. Like Sally's car crashing after the Minotaur attack. At one point we see the Minotaur coming, then the screen goes to black and next scene they are crashed. Or with the animal escape we see them in the car and next scene they are in the streets free. It makes the pacing feel strange, takes away the momentum and feels kinda lazy coming from such a big production.

They tell us but do not show the magic in this world and is frustrating! For example, in Narnia no one tells Lucy or us the rules but we see it. With the music cue we know the Wardrobe is special in some way. The she gets inside it and walks backwards,and keeps going and keeps going and keeps going, which is weird, and there are trees! Later, when Mr Tumnus plays his flute, we see that it's magical and makes Lucy fall asleep; and after that she returns to the normal world and we know hours have passed yet Peter is still counting, meaning in our world just have been seconds. In the Percy Jackson's world an easy way to show the magic is with the Mist, but instead they decided to just tell us everything with endless,boring exposition dialogue

Connected with the prev point,they never figure out who any of the creatures/monsters are (except from Echidna) and is boring. Every scene is the trio meeting them and immediately going "you are Medusa", "You are Crusty and here is all the information about you". Yes,the characters know them from myths, but each creature/monster has gone through changes to blend in modern times,making it tricky to be immediately recognizible, that's the fun of the books.

I also feel the world building was lacking. Like people who are watching the show without having read the books do not know there is no Hades Cabin or which Cabin is for which God. Bet some of them think the first three Cabins are for Zeus, Poseidon and Hades but no; Cabin 2 is Hera's and is and always will be empty because she is the goddess of marriage, meaning she is 100% loyal to Zeus. And please correct me if I am wrong, but they did not mention the Mist nor Ambrosia,isn't it? Because I genuinely can not recall. All these details are important and are missing. They are also wasting the opportunity of foreshadow future characters. Like how cool would be to see an 8 year old Will! Or get know Cabin 9 and Beckendorf, that would give Percy a connection with him earlier than in the books and make us book readers hype to see Leo's Cabin!

The friendship with Luke feels underdeveloped. Percy says "finally I have friends" but I feel he barely knows him and we dont even know the name of the other dudes who supposedly are his friends. The show could have benefited from having two full episodes taking place in the Camp and moving the flashbacks from episode 8 to episode 2, it would feel more natural

Luke not having his scar. The reason I think it is important is because for Luke looking himself in the mirror is a constant reminder of his father, his grudge towards him, his quest and the failure it was and the shame he feels about it. All those feelings boiled down inside him and is the reason he joins Kronos. Taking the scar away takes that complexity. See it as the equivalent of Zuko's scar in the Percy Jackson universe

Part 2 • Part 3

[wretcheddthing]

If ur looking for excuses to talk about Venali! What were her first impressions of her party members, and how has her opinion of each of them changed? (Gale especially!)

for u. from me. btw. besides the fact it's super thoughtful that you're asking about Ven unprompted, this is a FANTASTIC question

it's all going under the cut :) (also if you have any OCs from literally anything i'd love to hear about them !!! don't matter from what i'm curious about the things you like too <3)

In Order Of Meeting

Lae'zel She appreciated how direct Lae'zel is as soon as they met. No questions asked, they're in a situation and they need to get out of it. She appreciated the brevity and resourcefulness Lae'zel showed on the nautaloid. As she learned more about Lae'zel and eventually Vlaakith, she started to become kind of protective of her but in a subtle way. Sorta like, "Hey not to give you my two cents unprompted but I think probably this whole 'chosen by Vlaakith' thing may not be that good for you based on the whole. Everything about her." Was also SUPER flattered when Lae'zel came on to her because who doesn't love being hit on by a hot githyanki warrior, even if she did ultimately turn her down for the wizard. By end game, I think they're fairly close. Ven would kill and die for any of her friends, Lae'zel is no exception. She was so, so proud of Lae'zel when her quest was resolved and how much she'd learned and grown.

Shadowheart Ven fought demons trying not to pry into Shadowheart's past before she was ready to share. I mean, Ven has her own secrets. She didn't begrudge Shadowheart for having hers. She is very snoopy, though. She was touched when Shadowheart started to open up to her more, and learning her deal with Shar was pretty similar to learning about Lae'zel and Vlaakith. Like, "heyyyy worship who you like I'm not gonna judge but I think probably this is not beneficial to you in any way." and she was right. It honestly broke her heart seeing how all her friends displayed resolve because it never really helped any of them. She also completely ignores how her own resolve is detrimental to her, but she's very much a "do as I say, not as I do" person. Ending Shadowheart's quest hit hard for Ven if only because seeing the change in her as someone with a mission and little else to someone with some sense of self but no direction really started resonating as she started coming to terms with appreciating the magic she was given.

Gale

She likes Gale :)

She has a lot of experience with wizards and was ready to have the exact same annoying, ego-battle interaction with this one before she learned who he was. She was pretending to be a prodigy herself, so she certainly knew of Gale of Waterdeep, former chosen of Mystra. Ven isn't particularly religious herself, but of course has heard just about all she can about Mystra, good and bad. She already wasn't huge on the goddess because it seemed to her that she was just kind of a dick (based on stories told to her from people who weren't active worshipers - thank you Minsc for talking shit about her also. Ven agreed.) Learning of her relationship with Gale, the power imbalance of it all, and the lengths Gale felt he had to go to please her left a very bad taste in her mouth. Try as she might, she couldn't help but be charmed by the guy, though. His hobbies are so domestic, it lines up with her interests Perfectly. He just also has a whole complex because he was groomed by an Actual Goddess since he was a young man. She was pretty quickly entranced by the passion he has for talking about his interests and honestly didn't have any problems helping him out with his little hunger problem because magical items are So easy to come by (also i know my playstyle well enough to pick and choose items i know will never be used. easy gale snacks). Plus, they're both huge history buffs - there is no shortage of topics for discussion between them. He also surprised her a bit with what he approves and disapproves of - his neutrality on some things aligned with hers in a way I personally didn't expect. She was already half in love with him by the time gandalf showed up to eat their cheese and tell gale to kill himself, but it Really solidified her beef with Mystra and want to stabilize Gale, both literally bc of the bomb in his chest, but also mentally. Like noooo don't kill yourself you're so hot (and also important to me) aha. When he chose her over the world at the end of Act 2, she really thought she'd marry him like right then. And Then he was like "oh hey, i can become god! wouldn't that be cool? to be god? i can probably do it better than the other gods." Man, if she weren't head over heels in love with him she would have been Way less tactful about calling him an idiot. She indulged him as far as she could without netting negative approval, but she really had to put her foot down when he started talking like it was a done deal. As far as Gale had helped her come to terms with her magic and its utility, even to some extension the beauty of it, she needed him to find the same appreciation in the mundane. And so they balanced each other out. I haven't actually finished Ven's game yet (i'm going to later tonight ;-;) but I DO know Gale will propose and she's going to accept. Without question. Just in time to see the new epilogue. I'm going to lose it. I'm going to lose it.

Astarion: She did NOT like that guy at first. Not because he's kind of an asshole just as a personality trait, but specifically because his first act toward her was an immediate betrayal (tricking her into thinking he needed help before pulling a dagger on her). Not! Cool! Sure, it was handled pretty quickly after that, but he was on thin ice for a while after. Granted, he didn't like her that much either because she kept offering to help people. She was very, Very distrustful when he tried hitting on her because as far as she knew, he couldn't stand her. It made no sense. I don't think there's a fleshed out convo for it, but Ven as a character would immediately see he's not being genuine and she also would Not appreciate the angle he was taking in trying to get her on his side. Learning his backstory changed things pretty quickly, though. She finally understood the motivation behind his previous actions and defended his autonomy at Every point she could. When he started being like "Hey so this ascension thing.... sounds pretty good for me! No downsides to that, I think" she was like. Hey what's the deal with all of my friends desperately wanting things that are actively bad for them? Sure I don't have a great sense of what's good for me either, but that's different. These guys are trying to kill themselves. In Gale's case literally. I think after dealing with Cazador, they had their first genuine heart-to-heart where they realize that there's no way they're getting rid of the other. They never become Super close, but by the end of the game there's an unspoken understanding that if one needs help, the other would come. They'll never be rid of the other. Silent ride or dies.

Wyll It's hard not to be immediately charmed by Wyll, and she didn't try to fight it. That guy is Dashing. Proficient duelist, superhero backstory, good with kids - what's not to like? He does unfortunately have the same problem as everyone else where he's resolute to a fault, but something she finds refreshing about him is that he is fully aware of this fact. He made his choice with Mizora, stands by it, and would do it again if he had to. Hell, he was punished severely for not killing Karlach and takes it in stride. He is the embodiment of a hero to the people, and she loves that about him. She just also wishes he would prioritize himself even once. Even One Time of his own volition. But since he wouldn't, she helped him shoulder some of that responsibility. She also really felt for him since her situation with magic-granting entities is very similar to that of a warlock. Since she has no easy way to control her issue, she vowed to help him with his. She talked him out of his pact with Mizora, Begging Wyll to trust that she wouldn't let his dad die as a result. And she didn't! She saved them both like she promised she would. She really loves the guy and just wishes the best for him going forward.

Karlach I will never make a character that hates Karlach becuase it is impossible for Me to hate her. Even in a pretend way. Besides, Karlach is another one of those characters it's So hard not to be charmed by. You get this whole impression that she's some murderous devil hellbent on destruction and then you actually meet her and she's just super funny and has such an upbeat physicality about her it's infectious. Ven isn't in love with the fact that Karlach would rather ignore the pressing issue of her heart exploding than think through her next steps, but she also can't fault her for wanting to live as much life with as little worry as possible given the whole Absolute thing. If only there were time to handle both with the appropriate care. Karlach's quest also hasn't been resolved yet bc. I haven't finished Ven's first playthrough, but I don't think she's gonna let her just die. Karlach doesn't deserve that. She actually stands out to Ven in that she needs to fortify her resolve to keep going. I think Ven will admire her greatly for that, despite feeling guilty that it's the only way to keep her alive. She'd wonder if she has the strength to accept her own issues the same way Karlach has.

Gonna go fast for the non-origins characters bc I just realized I wanna see the epilogue so so so so bad which means I’m about to do the final quest with Ven for the first time which is going to drive me up a wall.

She likes Halsin well enough but he had no lasting impression on her other than “man that dude is Huge”. Also she wasn’t as flattered by his interest in her as she was with Lae’zel, but it wasn’t outright insulting like with Astarion.

She really likes Jaheira and they keep up the playful ribbing dynamic throughout. I like to think Jaheira becomes Venali’s confidante. Someone she can go to for anything. Advice, to vent, someone to speak some sense into her. I also really like Jaheira. I really like Jaheira.

Ven also likes Minsc and talking to him leaves her in a better mood. If only bc he says something that no one else in the entire world would ever come up with organically and it makes her laugh.

And that’s what I got! For now! I’ll probably be posting more later tonight once I finish the game and see the epilogue. It might change me as a person.

Edit; I forgot about Minthara I didn’t get her in Ven’s first game but . I’m out of my mind about her so I’m also playing her in another playthrough and bc of patch 5 I’ll have a chance to recruit her for the first time! So thoughts on that Down The Line

[soulmate-game]

Well, here is the stupid thing I was alluding to. It’s mostly a filler chapter, but yeah.

Harley’s Plea for Help, Chapter 3

“Well, that took a while,” a relatively deep female voice smoothly drawled. The plants placed right next to the window pulled away, no longer blocking the pathway inside. The two figures who were perched right outside the windowsill took the invitation and climbed inside, the shorter of the two looking at the woman who had spoken and smiling widely.

“Auntie Ivy!” Marinette happily exclaimed, making the redhead across from her grin back.

“That’s me. It sure is nice to actually see you in person, little Marigold,” she held out her arms for a hug, which Marinette instantly ran in to accept. “Video calls are never quite enough, are they? You’re so tiny! Are you sure you eat alright?”

“Auntie Ivyyyyyy,” Marinette whined, knowing full well that Ivy was just teasing her.

“So, what took you all so long?” Ivy asked Red Hood, even as she kept her arms wrapped around her soon-to-be daughter in law. “Usually you bats are all about getting back on the streets to punch people, we didn’t think you’d be bringing her in at almost one in the morning.”

Hood shrugged, thumbs hooked in his pockets. “Your little garden fairy nearly gave us the slip. Went straight out the back exit instead of doin’ anything showy like we half expected and we almost missed her.”

“I stopped as soon as I noticed who they were, I swear!” Marinette pulled away from Ivy, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “I didn’t expect Momma to send them to babysit me before our first full day being in Gotham. In hindsight, though, I really should have.”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” Ivy agreed with a smirk, ruffling Marinette’s hair and making her pigtails go a little crooked. “And I know for a fact that you’ve done some stunts off your balcony back in Paris, so at least I know you can be responsible and hold yourself back from doing the same here. Must get that from me, because we both know it doesn’t come from Harley.”

Marinette and Hood both had to laugh at that. Being responsible was definitely not a trait that Marinette could have inherited from anybody in her family tree, that was for sure.

“Are ya makin’ fun of me in front of my daughter?” the comically scandalized voice announced the arrival of one Harley Quinn, who walked into the room in white onesie pajamas with a poker print on them. All of the “joker” cards were crossed out heavily with red sharpie, and a few of them had black-sharpie devil horns and handlebar mustaches vandalizing them. Marinette even caught one such card with a googly eye on it, the matching eye having fallen off and leaving only a small circle of since-dried hot glue where it used to be. “If you guys are gonna be that way, fine! Ivy dyes her hair!”

“No she doesn’t,” Marinette deadpanned, clearly fighting against a giant grin. The corners of her lips gave her away, they never stopped twitching with repressed mirth. “But you do. I got the pictures to prove—- aah!” Harley tackled her daughter to the ground, attacking her with tickles immediately.

“Take it back! My hair is naturally blond!”

“Yeah, naturally— hahahahaha! Sandy blonde! You— hahaha! Have just as much brown— stop I can’t breathe! hahahaha!— as yellow!”

“Hmph,” Harley finally backed off, crossing her eyes and looking away from Marinette with an exaggerated pout. “How dare you reveal my darkest secret?”

“I was a natural redhead even before I got my powers,” was all Ivy had to say, looking all too amused at this turn of events. “Your original costume completely covered your hair.”

“Don’t worry, Harley,” Red Hood butted in, reminding the three girls that he was still here. His tone suggested that he was definitely smiling under his helmet. “We found out about your hair dye years ago.”

“I just cover up the brown parts! It’s not like I’m changin’ much,” she argued before standing up again. “Thanks for gettin’ my cupcake back safely, little birdie. Oh, that's right! I made cupcakes! Hang on, lemme grab one for your trip back!” with that, she span on her heels and ran back further into the apartment. Marinette dashed over to Hood, immediately shoving him to the window.

“Quick, save yourself! Momma can’t bake for her life!” she whispered urgently. “I’ll say you were called away for an emergency, just hurry!”

“It’s not even a lie, getting away from Harley’s baking is an emergency,” Ivy agreed, waving as the vigilante took their advice and fled. It was only three seconds later that Harley slid back into the room, nearly falling due to the feet of her onesie having pretty much zero friction. Her face immediately fell when she saw that her victim was gone, leaving her standing there with a cupcake that was about twice as much frosting as actual cake, covered in sprinkles like a kid’s craft project that was smothered in glitter. The frosting was also shapeless, just heaped on the cake like a half-melted scoop of ice cream. She sighed in despair.

“There goes my chance of giving a bat diabetes. You guys warned him, didn’t ya?”

They both nodded shamelessly. “We’re not that cruel, Harley,” Ivy defended, getting up from her spot on her cushioned armchair and wrapping an arm around her fiance’s waist before she kissed the top of her head gently. “Hood got our little Marigold back safe and sound, and he’s even started a garden at his apartment. He doesn’t deserve to be poisoned by you.”

“I thought you said he got a single cactus at the flea market last month,” Harley deadpanned, making Ivy shrug.

“Might as well be a garden for him, and it’s something he’s not likely to kill so that’s a plus to me. He’s actually taking really good care of the little baby.”

“Speaking of garden!” Marinette gently took the sad excuse of a pastry away from her mom and sat it down on a side table before ushering both of them over to the living room and onto the sofa. “My garden back home is growing so big, I don’t think I can keep everything much longer. I barely have room to walk on the terrace, with all the vines and leaves and branches. Got any ideas of what I can do?”

“Of course! Do you have pictures, Marigold?”

—*—*—*—*—*

Slipping back through her hotel window at six in the morning was risky, since it involved climbing the wall and hoping nobody saw, but her classmates were so unpredictable that it was the only way she could be sure nobody would find out that she had violated curfew and snuck out. Of course, having Red Robin waiting outside her mom’s apartment’s terrace to escort her back helped. At least she knew that no street cams would record her comings or goings, and his grappling hook made the whole scale-the-hotel-wall business much more efficient.

Once she was inside, she sighed happily. “Thanks, now—“ her apology was cut off as Red Robin held up a finger to tell her to wait.

“Hold that thought, be right back. Don’t move.”

Thinking, rightfully, that something was wrong, Marinette obeyed. She watched Red Robin leap off of her hotel balcony and disappear into the streets. Immediately, she began a search to make sure her room had been left untampered— everything important had been packed in the backpack that she had taken to her mom’s place, but still. Could never be too careful. By the time she finished checking for bugs or any signs of snooping, Red Robin landed back on her balcony.

“Here we go.”

Turning to face him, Marinette opened her mouth to ask what the problem had been— only to tear up a little and walk over to the vigilante.

“Oh, my hero. Truly, my one and only savior. Knight in shining red Kevlar. I’m running on two hours of sleep and you have read my mind!” The pigtailed drama queen eagerly took the coffee that he offered her, and he sipped from a larger cup that looked like he had grabbed it from the same place. Marinette almost instantly sighed in gratitude when the hot drink lightly scalded her tongue. This. This was the elixir of life.

To his credit, Red Robin was able to restrain himself to merely an amused smirk. Probably because he was running on just as little sleep as she was. “Sorry it’s only a small, I figured it was best to have something you could finish quickly and easily hide the evidence for. If you need more caffeine, I happen to know that Wayne Enterprises has a very good coffee shop in their main hall. You’ll be touring there today, right?” He asked, taking another sip as he waited for the answer that he already knew.

Marinette nodded absently, drinking in the euphoria of her coffee as she tried to both savor it yet finish it as quickly as safely possible. When she came up for air, she said; “Yeah, that’s right. We’re touring Wayne Enterprises for most of the day, having lunch there, and leaving for dinner after the tour. Then we have a visit to the Gotham Museum of Fine Art, and we’ll stay there until about eight-thirty before heading back to the hotel.”

Red Robin nodded, then turned and looked out the window at the slowly rising sun. Sunrise was always a bit later in Gotham, partly because of the abundance of high-rises and partly because of the thick cloud cover and ever-present fog on the edges of the city making everything seem darker than it should have been. He had to be at work soon himself, which is why he had been chosen to escort her to the hotel in the first place, but that meant that he had to be heading off.

“Alright. We arranged for a bodyguard we trust to keep an eye on your class during the WE tour, but he doesn't know who you are or that we’re the ones who asked. We’re still in the process of arranging someone to shadow you after the tour, but we’ll tell you about that once it’s solidified. Until then, follow the usual self-defense procedures if you suspect anyone of following you. You have the panic button we gave you?”

Marinette nodded, gulping down the last of her coffee and carefully putting it in her room’s tiny trash can. “Got it. Thanks, again. Seriously,” she met his eyes— or, probably did since they were hidden behind that weird white film that the whole Batfam had covering the eyeholes of their masks. “I mean it. For listening to me, for listening to Mom. It means a lot. I’ll keep the panic button on me, and I’ll use it if I think I can’t handle a situation on my own. I’ll cooperate with the people you get to watch over the class, and I’ll do my best to not get into any trouble. No promises, but I’ll do my best,” she maintained eye contact until Red Robin nodded, hiding his expression behind his coffee cup. After a second, he cleared his throat.

“Well then. We’ll contact you once we have anything to say about your intel. Until then, I gotta go. And by the way?”

Marinette tilted her head curiously as Red Robin paused for just a moment on her balcony railing, aiming a smirk back at her. “Yeah?”

“Welcome to Gotham.”

And if she couldn’t help but smile widely as he grappled off into the fog-veiled sunrise? Well, only she had to know. She wasted no time closing and locking the glass balcony door, and pulling the curtains over it completely. Once that was done, she couldn’t help but do a little shimmy of Joy. She was caffeinated, she met Auntie Ivy in person for the first time, she got to sleep next to her momma— and she was in Gotham! Technically her hometown— or town she was conceived in? Didn’t matter. Point was, even with the chaos and dark energy clouding the very air, she couldn’t help but feel like she belonged in that city. Like that was where she was always meant to end up, where she could thrive and the environment that she was made to thrive in. The environment that she was born to start fixing.

She beamed at herself in her bathroom mirror as she gave herself one more once-over. Yeah, so far her visit to Gotham was going much better than she could have hoped. Now, she just had to make sure it stayed that way.

Three businesslike raps sounded against the door to her room, just in time for Marinette to feed Tikki one more cookie and straighten her purse on her shoulder. Madame Mendelieve’s voice called out from the other side of the door in her usual no-nonsense bark;

“Dupain-Cheng! Room check! It’s time to get up, we’re meeting down in the lobby in ten minutes.”

Marinette ran up to the door, not quite able to contain her energy, and swung it open with her trademark large, beaming smile.

“Way ahead of you, Madame Mendelieve!”

Her science teacher blinked, adjusting her glasses on her nose as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

“Ah. You’re already awake and ready?”

Marinette giggled and nodded. “Yup! I was so excited for the tour that I could barely sleep! Does the hotel breakfast include free coffee?”

—*—*—*—*—*

The hotel breakfast did, in fact, include coffee. What it did not include, however, was free coffee that Marinette could reasonably stomach. Especially after the heaven in a cup that Red Robin had gotten for her earlier, the watered down motor oil in the hotel lobby had been unbearable. She had barely managed two sips before regretfully throwing the rest away. Which is what brought her to stand in line at the very same coffee shop that Red Robin had mentioned was in the main hall of Wayne Enterprises, as the rest of her class mingled and waited for their teachers to check their tour group in and their tour guide to arrive.

“Hmm. Sorry, this is my first time ordering here,” she apologized when she reached the counter, gaining a slight lopsided grin from the barista at the register. “Um, I usually like strong coffee, with a lot of caffeine, but I also like something sweet. I don’t need anything too complicated though, do you have any recommendations?”

The barista gave her a customer service smile that seemed just a tad softer at the edges than usual. “Sure! So, we can add an extra shot or two of espresso to any of our drinks, to make it stronger and give it an extra kick. If you’re looking for good sweet flavors, the classics are our white chocolate or caramel. But we also have a seasonal syrup right now that I personally love, which is our cinnamon butterscotch. Did you wanna try that?”

Marinette smiled widely. “That sounds delicious! Then, if I could have your largest size café latte, hot, with… two extra shots and that syrup? Does that sound good?”

The barista actually let loose a soft laugh, already keying in the order. “If you’re a coffee lover and a sweet tooth at the same time, then you’ll love it. If not, come back during your tour’s lunch break and I’ll make you something else.”

Marinette made a little more small talk as she handed over the proper cash for the order, and grabbed her drink after just another minute’s wait. She turned around, taking a sip of the unsurprisingly heavenly coffee and started off to join her class.

Only to realize none of them were where she had left them. She sighed, starting to reach into her purse to see if anyone had texted her about where they were going, but a heavy presence stopped her. She could feel him approaching from in front of her, slightly to her right, but she couldn’t hear him at all. On guard, she straightened up and turned to observe the potential threat.

A security guard. Marinette blinked, running over what she had been told earlier that morning. Was he..?

He seemed to notice her instinctually defensive posture because he raised his hands to show he meant no harm. “Sorry, didn’t mean to catch you off guard,” he apologized. “I’m the guard that was assigned to your tour group. I offered to stay behind until you got your coffee while the rest of your group went ahead and got the run-down on all the boring rules and whatnot of the tour. Figured you’d already know everything they had to say anyway, you’re the class president right?”

Marinette relaxed her posture, nodding and sending the man a relieved smile. “Yeah, that’s right. Well, that explains why they left without me then. Usually Madame Mendelieve is strict about following rules though, how’d you convince her to go on without me?”

The man chuckled, jerking his head to show that she should follow him as he began to lead the way to a side door. Marinette kept her guard up just in case, but wasn’t too worried. If nothing else, she was still in the middle of a super crowded building and the other security guards around didn’t seem concerned. She could easily yell for help if she needed to.

“Well, can’t you tell it was my devilish charm?” He teased, grinning. He waited until she rolled her eyes to continue; “but really, I’m like a second tour guide. She made me show a lotta proof that I’m actually assigned to you guys and not just faking it, not that I can blame her. Eventually she saw the logic in my suggestion and agreed. See, there they are,” he pointed casually ahead of them in the large side hallway they had entered. Sure enough, near the end of the hallway was her class at what looked to be the tail-end of a standard rules-and-guidelines speech from the tour guide. “By the way,” the guard spoke up again, holding his hand out. “My name’s Jason. You’ll be seeing me more often, since I’m supposed to guard you guys for all of your visits to the Tower. Call me if you need help with anything, ‘kay kid?”

Marinette grinned, now positive that this guy really was the guard that Red Robin had said was assigned to her class. She switched the hand she was holding her coffee in so that she could properly grab Jason’s hand for a shake.

“Got it, Monsieur Jason. Let’s both hope I don’t end up needing your help though, I think that would be easier on both of us,” she joked, earning a chuckle from the large man. And— yeah, now that she was relaxed, he really was big, wasn’t he? Then again, Marinette didn’t always realize when people were a bit larger or more buff than they should be. Living with her dad had seriously skewed her perception of the normal size of an adult male (which, she learned when she was seven, most definitely was not almost seven feet tall and muscled enough to make a pro wrestler jealous). But she would like to think she had gotten better in that aspect, and Jason was definitely a big guy. A little over six feet tall, she thought, and though the guard outfit hid a good portion of his physique, she could tell he carried enough muscle to do serious damage if he wanted to.

With a wave, she left him to join her class and sipped at her latte. She had figured that the Bat Clan’s criteria for civilians that they would put to guard her class had to be high, but now she had to wonder just how high. Most police officers or security guards were fit, sure, but not like Jason. Casting a quick glance back at him, she confirmed that he had quite a few faded but visible scars. Again, more than your average officer even for Gotham. Who had they tasked with her class’ safety, exactly?

An elbow in her side distracted her from her thoughts, forcing her to blink and stop her cup from going back to her lips. The grin of none other than Adrien Agreste greeted her when she snapped out of her own head long enough to pay attention to her surroundings. He jerked his head to indicate that the class was already starting to move off.

“Come on, Mari or you’ll get left behind again,” he teased. She grinned back at him, rolling her eyes but falling into step beside him as they followed at the back of their class. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were gonna marry that coffee. You haven’t zoned out that badly in years,” his tone was light and cheery, but Marinette didn’t miss the concern in his emerald eyes. She sighed, gently bumping her shoulders against his in silent reassurance.

“I’m fine. Just didn’t get much sleep last night, that’s all. But this really is good coffee. Elixir of the gods,” then, just to provoke him, she took a giant gulp of the still steaming hot drink. Adrien grimaced in pained sympathy even though Marinette didn’t seem affected at all.

“Oww, Marineeeeeeeeeette,” he whined. “Don’t do that, my throat hurts just watching you guzzle hot coffee like that,” he complained, rubbing at his neck to make his point clear.

“Wimp,” she teased, unrepentant. Adrien just groaned dramatically.

“I’m not a wimp, you’re just concerningly used to burning your throat from the inside out,” he accused. “Anyway, how’d it go?” He was being deliberately vague, but it was obvious to her what he meant. He was only one she had told about visiting her mom, after all, just in case she needed a quick getaway.

In fact, he was the only one of her friends that she had even told about her biological parents. Alix knew too, but only because of time shenanigans. Marinette was fine with it now, but still.

“It went great,” she smiled widely at him, keeping her voice low but casual. “If I have a chance, I’ll introduce you sometime during the trip. I have a feeling you’ll love Auntie Selina, but I have to meet her first. All I have so far are stories.”

“Fair enough,” Adrien agreed easily. “But you don’t have to, you know that right? I’d love to meet your family, but I’m also fine just being your pseudo-brother like I have been up until now. I know it might be a bit… uncomfortable, for you.”

“Nah,” Marinette shrugged. “Nerve wracking, maybe. But that’s also about half the things that I do in my life period, anxiety is no joke. I’ll catastrophize for a while, but I know you’ll love them and they’ll love you.”

“Sounds like they have paw-some taste,” he didn’t even miss a beat with his puns, earning a playful glare for his efforts.

“Never mind. You’re a heathen. Disowned. Who are you?”

“Mariiiiii,” he whined, causing them both to laugh for a while before focusing on the tour.

So far, so good, Marinette thought.

—*—*—*—*—*

Part 1 Part 2

@emotionalsupportginger @alysrose-starchild @emistar0 @kibastray @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @alyssadeliv @blackroserelina @blackstarlight-co @readingalldaysleepingallnight @maanae @aespades @jaybird-and-co @fleursroses @probably-a-hologram @misterpianoman @deathssilentapproach-blog @user00000003 @frieddonutsweets @blur-of-colours @prettylittlebutterflie @ladyqnoirr @a-star-with-a-human-name @mizzy-pop @laurcad123 @dorkus-minimus @chocolatecatstheron @tazanna-blythe @golden-promises @literaryhiraeth @asrainterstellar @hewantedbeefintheparkinglot @miraculous-trinity-leo @missanalysis @lovelyautumnsunflower @lolieg @ann0631 @whitetiger1249 @meow-now @toodaloo-kangaroo

[ttttaehyungie]

secret santa | kth x reader

secret santa | kim taehyung x reader

genre | bff2l, fluff

summary | What you thought was an ingenious plan to figure out the perfect gift for your secret santee turns out to take a whole bunch of wrong turns, but with the best outcomes.

rating | NC-17

word count | 6.2k words

warnings | some profanities (it’s like... once LOL), mentioned breakups, it’s Christmas in the context of a pandemic

a/n | Merry Christmas everybuddy 🎄✨ here is a lighthearted (or at least it was until i hit the 6am point of the night while writing slkdjflkjd) lil christmas gift to everyone, but mostly to myself LOL bcos I’m finally posting a fic about the one who owns my heart in its entirety 😌

Christmas without you would just not be Christmas at all

Bright mistletoes up above us, it’s just you and me

-- V, Snow Flower

“C’mon, ____,” Taehyung whines. He plops down on the couch next to you and puts his big, round eyes to good use, giving you the puppy dog eyes treatment.

Well too bad for Taehyung, having known him for the last decade has granted you immunity against his pouty antics. There’s a couple of things that Taehyung employs in a bid to get what he wants. First, he’ll whine. Next, he’ll attempt to reason it out with you… or as much as he can convincingly reason with the pout still laced thick in his tone. If that fails, he’ll try bargaining. And finally, if none of the aforementioned has managed to sway you, he’ll just pout in silence.

“That’s the thing about Secret Santas, Tae, they’re supposed to be, y’know, secret.”

“Well, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me who your santee is!” he exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

There it is. Stage two.

You ignore him and return to scrolling through Amazon in what you hope is a nonchalant manner.

“What if I guess who it is?” he tries.

When you don’t reply, he continues, “Is it Hoseok?” He runs a hand through his golden locks in thought. “No, buying for Yoongi is easy because all he ever wants is practical things like planners. You wouldn’t need help with that. Hm… Is it Seokjin?”

He rambles on about different kitchenware that could make a good present for Jin, a ramble that would have been really helpful if only Jin were actually your secret santee.

Taehyung gasps and falls silent, shocking you into finally looking up from your phone. His already round eyes are even rounder, wide as they are in shock. A hand hovers over his mouth as he goes still.

Then, as suddenly as he had gasped, he relaxes into a laugh.

“For a moment, I thought your secret santee was me,” he says, chuckling. A jolt runs through you, and your breath hitches in a way that you pray is unnoticeable. “But you’re too shitty a liar to do that.”

“Hey!” You jab his side playfully and he yelps. “What do you mean? I’m a great liar.”

“That’s a blatant and unconvincing lie right there.”

You fold your arms and turn away.

“I know you’re not actually mad, ____,” comes his sing-song voice, crossing his arms behind his head and reclining into the couch.

Letting out another huff, you turn further away. So when he grabs your hands and pulls you to face him, it startles you a little.

His eyes search yours, and you can’t help yourself from stumbling into their depths. The seriousness in his gaze holds yours intently.

But just as you think he’s about to apologize, his eyes melt into little crescent moons as he grins. “So. Who’s your secret santee?”

His cry comes out muffled under the cushion you hit him with.

An exasperated groan leaves you the moment you close the front door. Tipping your head back to rest against the solid wood, you shut your eyes. You hear footsteps pad closer.

“I take it your plan didn’t succeed?” Irene says, leaning against the wall as she takes in your defeated stance.

“Nope,” you say, picking yourself back up and hanging up your scarf and coat. Your roommate’s still in the same fuzzy pyjamas she was in when you’d left for Tae’s earlier in the day, and honestly, she’s got the right idea. You’re ready to get back into jammies too.

A Lifetime movie plays in the background, and you’d be willing to bet your life’s savings -- not that there’s much when you’re but a struggling student -- that she’s got a mug of hot chocolate to accompany her.

“Another Christmas movie?” you scoff in mock disgust. “How are you not sick of them yet?”

“What else are we supposed to do during a quarantined Christmas?”

“Don’t kid yourself. You’d be doing this even without the quarantine.”

“Hey. If you detest it so much, I heard that Taehyung’s place has many vacant rooms right now.”

You roll your eyes. She got that information from you. Both his roommates were gone from the apartment for the time being, one went back home for the holidays and another had chosen to attend the entire semester from home since everything was online anyway, leaving Taehyung with the luxury of the entire apartment to himself.

Meanwhile, Irene was making full use of the ongoing situation to evade going back home for the holidays. Too much family drama to allow her to binge-watch her holiday flicks in peace, she’d said.

And you? It’s kinda awful, but you’ve chosen to remain in your apartment just slightly off-campus so that you could get a head start on your research for your thesis, the campus library’s offerings much more vast than the local neighborhood library of your small town hometown.

Upon hearing this, Taehyung had offered to stay to keep you company over the holidays. “We’ve spent every Christmas together ever since we were kids, Christmas would just feel too weird without you,” he’d said. “And then we can join the gang’s Zoom Christmas celebration together too! I heard that’s what Namjoon and Jin will be doing since they’re both in the city over Christmas.”

How you’d managed to keep yourself from melting into a puddle of goo at his casual selflessness was a real feat. Taehyung had always been close to his family, and often missed them intensely while you guys were miles apart from home each college semester. So for him to give up a trip back home so you could still have a piece of home with you over Christmas was not a small sacrifice.

“Hellooo?” Irene waves a hand in your face. You jump, jolted out of your thoughts. “Are you actually daydreaming about it? Ooh, staying over at your crush’s place with no one else around… saucy things could happen, ____.”

Although that wasn’t what you were thinking about, you still feel the heat rise to your cheeks at being caught daydreaming about Taehyung. Instead, you give a feeble excuse to get Irene off your back, “I’m just thinking about secret santa gifts again. Ugh, why’d I have to draw him of all people?!”

“Are you sure you aren’t overthinking this because of your feelings? How difficult is it to think of a gift for a guy you’ve been friends with since you were kids? What about his interests?”

“That’s real tough. His hobbies are so whimsical and oftentimes just impulsive. Remember the phase with the film camera? And then the short-lived violin phase? And the piano phase? The only outcome of that phase is him playing the Chopstick Waltz every single time we pass by a piano.”

“Well, what about something that’s been a constant in his life then through all the phases?”

You purse your lips in thought, weighing the thought. It’s not a bad suggestion, but what has been a constant for him all this time?

Coming up with naught, you sigh and turn to head to your room. “I’ll think about it while I get changed back into my jammies.”

When you described Taehyung’s ideas and interests as being whimsical and oftentimes impulsive, this is exactly what you meant.

“Tae, I don’t think it’s gonna fit. Why’d you get such a big one?”

“You just have to believe, ____. We just need faith, trust, and- well actually, maybe just faith and a really good, hard thrust.”

“I feel like there’s so many that’s what she said jokes to be made here.”

“Wasting your energy on that line of thinking is the reason why we haven’t gotten this christmas tree through the door yet.”

With one more solid push, the widest part of the tree finally makes it through the narrow doorway of Taehyung’s apartment, and the two of you go stumbling forward with the extra momentum.

“We did it!” he exclaims, wrapping you up in a hug. “You believed!”

Internally cursing yourself for the way your heart has the audacity to stutter at his touch. The hug is nothing- the warmth that seeps from his body to yours is familiar because hugs are nothing special in your friendship. Even in your grade school memories, Taehyung had always been a tactile person, giving out hugs generously and demanding them in return by simply throwing himself at people to be received in an embrace, coerced or not. As you and your peers grew older, Taehyung became more aware and withheld himself from his sudden hug attacks, especially towards the other girls. But not you. He felt no need to skirt around things with you, and you found a quiet hum of satisfaction in knowing that Taehyung could be his tactile self with you. Hugs were just an expression of your friendship. Nothing more.

That is, until you wanted them to be more.

You shake the thought away. You’ve dealt with this successfully for more than a year now and you can continue on.

Taehyung loosens his hold but keeps his arms around you, leaning back to look at you. The soft puffs in his cheeks and the light creases around his eyes as they bunch up in happiness are just some of the little things you adore about him. The contentment practically radiates off of him. It’s just like him to get this excited over a christmas tree.

“Shall we get to setting it up?” you ask and he nods, releasing you completely then to get to work.

After the two of you find the perfect spot, situating the tree in the corner of the living room by the windows and in reach of a power socket, you grab the bag of decorations.

The oddly small and light bag of decorations.

“Tae?” you ask, pulling out the single box of baubles. “Is this all you got?”

Grinning sheepishly, he nods. “I didn’t have much left for decorations after I chose the tree.”

“Why’d you choose such a big tree then?”

“What’s the point of getting a tiny tree? It’s only nice and festive if it’s large!” he exclaims.

“Well, what’s the point of getting a big tree that will be bare except for six baubles, Tae?!”

“I was thinking we could improvise the decorations.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Improvise?”

“Yeah, like- wait,” he says, running to his bedroom. His voice floats over from the narrow corridor, “just hang on!”

After a little rustling and rummaging, Taehyung emerges with two shoeboxes and a few scarves thrown over his shoulders. Grabbing one of the shoeboxes from him, you open it to reveal a bunch of keychains. Souvenirs from his friends’ travels and some of his own too. In there, you recognize an eiffel tower keychain you gifted him after your family’s holiday to France.

“Here, look!” He grabs a few and begins hanging them on the tree. “Decorations!”

You laugh. It’s a classic Taehyung move, and honestly it doesn’t look half bad. Picking a few keychains of your own from the box, you join him in placing them around the tree.

“What are you going to do about the tree topper?” you ask.

He smirks. “I’ve already got that all figured out.” Unboxing the second shoebox to reveal his collection of polaroid photos, he rifles around till he finds the photo he wants. Brandishing the polaroid of Yeontan, he grins. “Both an angel and a star. Perfect.”

You can't argue with that logic, and you say as much before vacating the step stool so he can clip the polaroid to the top of the tree with a wooden peg. Eyeing the pile of scarves on the couch, you ask, “What about the scarves?”

“Scarves? You mean ribbons?” he says, and begins draping them across the tree. You giggle and reach for one. The soft material is plush, caressing your skin as you run your fingers over the material. It's much nicer than the other scarves, you notice, and way too nice to be stuck on a christmas tree.

“Hey,” you say, “isn’t this cashmere? Are you sure you want such a nice sweater on your tree?”

Taehyung shrugs. “It was a gift from my ex. It’s not like I’m going to wear it anymore.”

His ex. The words hit you like a punch to your gut.

Taehyung's ex, Samantha, was a pleasant person to be around, easygoing and bubbly with a sunny personality that matched him well. At least, from what you could tell based off the first two months of their relationship that you got to witness firsthand. You're not quite sure who exactly initiated the distance -- whether it was from your own courtesy that you gave them space, or whether Samantha had, directly or indirectly, requested for it -- the memories were all too foggy by now.

What you do remember is that one moment they were happy together, and the next they were broken up, the relationship lasting just a little over six months. Taehyung never spoke much about it and when you did probe, he would brush it off with scant excuses that they just figured they weren't compatible after all.

That had been some time in the spring. Briefly, you wonder how many wears the scarf had gotten, and how much sentimental value it held. The quality of the material hinted towards a relationship that had been going strong.

Yet, you muse over it as you drape the luxurious material over the prickly christmas tree, Taehyung brushed it off with such brashness that spoke otherwise.

“Hey,” Taehyung breaks the silence that has fallen between you, clearing his throat in a self-conscious manner as if he’s feeling guilty over the awkward turn that the conversation had taken. You look at him, half-hidden behind the tree pines, his eyes pensive. Maybe he’ll finally open up about the relationship -- it’s been eight months after all. But then he flashes his usual elfin grin. “Any luck with your secret santee gift yet?”

You groan, partly because no, you’re still clueless and stuck on what to get him, and partly because he’s once again evaded the topic of his ex.

The incessant buzzing of your phone gets ignored, vibrating almost violently in its spot on the tinyass coffee table next to your feet which you’ve kicked up ever so demurely. The consecutive, rapid-fire notifications can only be from an overly enthusiastic Taehyung.

Irene nudges foot with her own socked one. “Aren’t you gonna check your phone? I can pause the movie if you want.”

“Nah, I’ve watched Home Alone enough times to not care about missing anything. And it’s probably just Tae being all excited about secret santa gift suggestions.”

“Ooh, how’s that going? Finally got him to spill what he might want?”

An exasperated sigh escapes you. “No, he’s sending me individualized suggestions for everyone that are so well thought out and personalized that I can’t get them for anyone else.”

Grabbing your still-buzzing phone, you flick through your texts. Just as you’d predicted, Tae’s sent you a bunch of Christmas socks he found on Amazon that he thinks would make a good addition to Jin’s collection of festive socks, a set of really nice paints that would pair well with Yoongi’s newfound interest in painting, and an anthology of time-travel short stories that he thinks would fascinate Namjoon.

“Hm, d’you think he’s called your bluff? Intentionally sending you suggestions that wouldn’t be helpful?”

You shake your head, frowning. “Tae’s not like that. Honestly, it was just a bad move on my part, hoping that he would give some generic gift suggestion that would let slip what he really wants. Tae is too thoughtful to get people generic gifts. He puts his heart and soul into the presents he buys for others.”

Reaching over, Irene pinches your cheek lightly as she coos at you, “Awww, you’re so in love with him. I can feel the cavities forming.”

“Pretty sure those are from the hot chocolate with extra marshmallows you love so much,” you say, tipping your chin in a gesture to the mug in her hands.

Irene sticks her tongue out and takes an extra large sip in typical defiance.

As much as you mock Irene for her love for Lifetime holiday movies and hot chocolate, you do have to admit that there’s a certain appeal to it. Curled up on the lumpy couch in Taehyung’s apartment, cupping the hot beverage in your hands, even the uneven lumpiness of the cheap piece of furniture begins to feel comfortable.

The entire room is dark, save for the glow of the television. Taehyung has always insisted that this is the best way to watch movies. Maybe it’s a good thing your makeshift decorations on the christmas tree -- still standing proudly in the corner of the room -- didn’t include christmas lights after all.

Outside, the snowfall has gotten pretty intense, the temperature dipping significantly compared to the previous few days. It is well and truly winter, the cold showing no mercy to anyone who wasn’t prepared for it. You’re thankful to be inside and with a nice hot drink.

But as the film runs on, you get so engrossed in the plot that you don’t even realize you’ve finished your drink till you drain the last of it. Oh.

Looking over at Taehyung, you could always request for more and you know he’d be more than happy to make you another cup. But the movie is at its climax and the way his eyes are glued to the screen, his mouth slightly agape with how invested he is in the film, you can’t bring yourself to interrupt him now. So you try to ignore the way the cold begins nipping at your fingertips.

Soon enough though, the once warm mug that was a pleasant source of heat became stiff cold ceramic between your equally stiff fingers. Scrunching your toes, you wish you’d thought to bring an extra pair of socks over, especially when you think about the pair of socks you’d stuffed into your boots, soggy and cold with melted ice. A shiver runs through you at the thought.

“Are you cold?” Taehyung asks, and you jump. You didn’t realize he’d noticed.

“Yeah, a little.”

He pouts. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? C’mere,” he says, and lifts the edge of his blanket, revealing his plaid pants and sweatshirt combination.

Crawling in quickly, you tell yourself that you’re only complying because you know he’ll put up a fight if you don’t, and you don’t want the cold air getting into the cocoon of warmth he’s created with his blanket. Not because you’re excited to snuggle up with Tae. Definitely not. But now that you’re here, you may as well make the most of it, you figure.

Taehyung yelps as you press your icy toes to his warm thigh. Your arms wind their way around him, desperately seeking out the warmth of his body heat. Nuzzling lightly into the crook of his neck, you sigh, finally getting some relief from the cold.

The tiniest of groans escapes him. Then, a tight gasp. Stiffening, you peer up at Taehyung carefully.

He’s turned to look at you too, his attention that was once rapt by the movie now focused directly on you with equal intensity. Nervous energy accumulates within you and your heart rate skyrockets, now keenly aware of every hard plane of his body against yours. The logical part of you regrets the way you launched yourself at him and gave no regards for personal space. But you’re only dimly aware of that. The part of you that just wants Taehyung, the part that you’ve kept under lock and key, now fights against the restraints you’ve tied yourself into, unravelling you. You gnaw at your lip unsurely, and you watch as Taehyung’s gaze drops to your lips, heavy-lidded as they linger there, then darting back up to meet yours head-on.

The hand that he has on your hip grips you a little tighter, and you clutch the front of his sweatshirt in response. Your heart is pounding now, and the headiness of it all makes you feel swirly. Is he leaning clo-

Slam!

Both of you jump. The noise from the film startles you both, and you accidentally head butt Taehyung’s chin in the midst of it. He yelps in pain.

“I’m so sorry!” You frantically rub the spot to soothe it. “Are you ok?”

He laughs it off in his usual carefree manner. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure? It doesn’t hurt?”

“It’ll be fine in a bit,” he says, pulling you into his chest, his warmth emanating from his chest to your back in a comforting manner. “Let’s continue watching the movie.”

With his arms wound around you, you wonder if he can feel the way your heartbeat continues to beat erratically. If he does, he says nothing about it. And underneath you, you can feel clearly how his heartbeat matches yours in its stuttering pace. But you say nothing about it. Not for the duration of the movie, not when it ends, not when you stand to leave, and not when he wishes you goodnight at the door.

The next day, you wake up with thoughts of yesterday sending your mind into a spiralling whirlpool. You decide it’s time to make an emergency call.

Also, it’s five days to Christmas and you still haven’t thought of a suitable gift for Taehyung.

“Hello?” comes a chirpy voice over the line.

“Jiminie!”

“____! What’s up?”

“Listen, I need your help. It’s about the secret santa thing.”

“What about it?”

“I need a suggestion for a gift for your best friend.”

Jimin chuckles. “Isn’t he also your best friend?”

“Well, yes, but…”

You take him through your original plan to covertly ask Taehyung what he would like by asking what would make a good gift, and how it got completely derailed, to which Jimin just laughed. And then your discussion with Irene on finding something that has been a constant in his life. Since you’re on the phone with Jimin, you take the chance to rant about your annoyance with yourself at not foreseeing Taehyung’s thoughtfulness and the personalized gift suggestions that he’s been giving you.

“____,” Jimin interrupts you mid-rant. “The answer is right in front of you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe your plan didn’t really fail. If Tae is suggesting personalized gifts, then…” he trails off meaningfully.

You gasp. “Oh. You’re absolutely right, Jimin, you genius!”

“This was your own plan, ____.” He chuckles. “Now as for what has been constant in his life… Do you really not realize?”

Oh.

“Jimin, you’re a genius, y’know that?”

“So I’ve been telling everyone.”

“Ok, I gotta go now,” you say, excitement zipping through you as your mind fills abuzz with different ideas now that Jimin has set you on the path.

“Seeya on the 25th, you dork.”

“See you!”

Belatedly, you realize you missed out on telling Jimin about what had happened the day prior. But you shrug it off, figuring that you could tell him about it another time.

---

But as it turns out, you don’t. The hectic rush of preparations for Christmas keep you and your friends so busy, you’re thankful everyone’s blocked out Christmas night for each other or you’d just miss each other completely otherwise.

Days on from the eventful movie night you had with Taehyung, the distance has already caused the memories of the night to go slightly fuzzy. You wonder if it had really even happened, or if you were just overthinking everything as per usual.

And since Taehyung never brought it up, your friendship carrying on in the easy status quo, it was simple enough to chalk it up to your own imagination.

The rush towards Christmas keeps itself up even till Christmas day itself. You’re huffing a little as you squeeze yourself and your grocery bags through the doorway of Taehyung’s apartment. The lopsided feeling of your beanie sitting askew on your head is just one part of your disheveled state right now.

“Tae!” You set the bags down and replace the spare key in its hiding place. “I’m here!”

He comes bursting out of his room and running over to help you with the bags. “Is it time to bake?” His tone is bright and shimmering with anticipation. Baking Christmas cookies with each other’s families was a tradition the two of you grew up with, and a tradition you both intended to keep even while away from your hometown.

Pulling the cookie cutters out of the bag, you wave them with a grin. “Shall we? We still have to prepare dinner after this and make sure we log onto Zoom on time too.”

The afternoon is filled with a flurry of flour and butter and sugar, cookie cutters and oven mitts, and a whole lot of messy icing. You pipe out a beautiful blue and white star, if you do say so yourself, taking pride in the baking skills you’ve honed over the past twenty years. Meanwhile, Taehyung scribbles Yeontan on a star-shaped cookie of his own. He adds this to his collection of alien cookies and rabbits on the moon.

When you’re both done decorating and the icing is left to set, you get to work on dinner. It’s a simple affair, just some mashed potatoes that you set Taehyung to work on, some lightly roasted veggies, and a rotisserie chicken from the supermarket in place of the usual Christmas turkey your families would normally have.

Grabbing plates to serve up your dinner, you can hear the chorus of hellos from the living room as Taehyung sets up his laptop to join the Zoom call. It fills you with a warmth you didn’t know you were missing, the cacophony of noise from your friends still as familiar as it always is even though it’s filtered through the speakers on the laptop. If anything, it may even be more chaotic than ever, with everyone speaking over each other, the social cues becoming even harder to read over the virtual platform.

When you finally enter the room with your two plates, the noise only gets louder, everyone shouting to greet you. You say a quick hi and slip back into the kitchen to get the tray of cookies to show off to the rest over the webcam.

You take your place next to Taehyung, seating yourself next to him in a similar cross-legged position, your knees knocking together as you both squeeze to get into frame together. Memories of the movie night come back to you, but Taehyung seems unfazed. Feigning calmness, you try to focus on the ongoing exchange instead.

The conversation drives itself, years of friendship and months spent apart from each other fuelling the chatter. With small talk on how Christmas day was for everyone, quick catch-ups on how everyone’s doing, inside jokes and references to shared experiences of the past, the atmosphere feels just like that one year you all went on a camping trip together and sat around the bonfire on the final night, swapping stories and jokes in a breezy fashion.

Just as the conversation slips into an easy placidity, Hoseok suggests you all move on to the secret santa bit of the night.

That’s when you gasp. Amidst the manic pace of the day and its activities, you’d forgotten to retrieve your present from where you’d stowed it in your apartment. In the same way that you treated Taehyung’s apartment like your own, so was your apartment to him. Taehyung could walk into your apartment any moment, whether you were present or not, and you needed to find a good secret place for your present. Stashing your prepared present in an unused cupboard in the kitchen, you remember commending yourself for having found such a great hiding spot. Turns out, it was so excellently hidden that even you had forgotten about it till this very moment.

But your internal struggle and the guilt that plagued you went unbeknownst to the rest, each taking turns to open their presents. A whole range of reactions and sound effects went on, Hoseok thanking Taehyung for his gifted sunglasses with such sincerity that transcended the boundaries of the webcam and screen. Yoongi had bought Jin a new fishing reel, and the boys were in the midst of discussing their next fishing trip.

But it was Namjoon’s reaction and the chaos that ensued that truly had you relaxing a little from your anxious-frustrated-guilty state.

“Snacks? And wet wipes?” Namjoon’s expression is incredulous as he pulls the items out of the brown paper bag. “Who’s giving me all these freebies?!”

“FREEBIES?!” Next to Namjoon, Jin smacks the table, causing him to jump. “I’ll have you know that those snacks were selected after careful observation, and I even went so far as to scout out for the specific brand you like and some even required shipping from elsewhere because the grocery stores near us didn’t stock it, and I got you wet wipes because you’re always spilling things, or maybe you could use them after you’re done snacking while on the go, but you still have the AUDACITY to call it FREEBIES?!”

At the sight of Jin gone red in the face, the snickers that the rest of you had been holding in came bursting out.

“Ok, I think we’re the last two to open our gifts,” Taehyung says, reading the room and moving on quickly before Jin could get even more agitated. “____, this is yours from your secret santa.”

Ripping open the wrapping paper swiftly, you find a brown leather-bound journal with your initials embossed on them in gold.

“Oh! This is beautiful,” you gush. “And since we’re the last two, this must be from Jimin!”

Even through the screen, the sight of your friend’s smile, eyes all scrunched up with the sincerity of it, has your heart swelling.

“And that means… that I’m your secret santee!” Taehyung gasps. “No way. And this whole time I was calling you a bad liar.”

He rambles on, explaining to the rest about your sly method of attempting to discreetly ask him what he might like for Christmas. The whole time, you’re chewing on your lip, trying to find the right moment to interject and explain what’s happened.

“Ok! So,” Taehyung finally pauses, looking at you expectantly, “I’m ready for my present!” His hands are cupped and ready to receive the present… that will not make it to him tonight.

You place your hands in his, lowering them gently and taking in his obvious confusion. “I’m so sorry, Tae, I left your present back at home. I promise I’ll bring it over tomorrow! Or you can come over after this to grab it if you want.”

“Oh,” he says, puppy dog pout hitting you full-force with guilt. “But I still want a gift now, so…”

Grasping your hands that are still in his, he tugs you forward into his chest, and plants a soft kiss on your lips.

Silence. Both from your brain, and from everyone around.

It lasts for two seconds -- your group of friends has never found it easy to shut up after all -- and then it’s an eruption, pulling you back to the reality that the two of you are not alone.

You can hear Jungkook screaming, “GROSS!” and Namjoon yelling in confusion. But Jimin’s tinkling laughter, filled with unmistakable joy, cuts through the noise along with a raspily muttered, “It’s about fucking time.” from Yoongi.

In the background, you hear Jungkook asking, “Waaaait, so does this mean that Seokjin has to give Namjoon a kiss now too?” and Jin’s immediate, “NO!”

The noise jump starts your brain back into motion. You attempt to pull away from Taehyung, highly aware that your friends are subject to witnessing all of this, but he tugs you back, anchoring you to him with an arm wrapped firmly around your waist. The laughter from the laptop speakers turns into cries of outrage and then an abrupt return to silence with a click, and you realize that Taehyung must have closed his laptop, ending the Zoom call.

Looping your arms around Taehyung’s shoulders, you begin to respond to his kiss, eyelids fluttering closed. It’s new, it’s electrifying. But it’s also like something deep inside has finally clicked, like you’ve finally arrived. You’re home.

“Did you know?” you ask. “About me having feelings for you?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung admits. Heat rises to your cheeks at that, and you hide your face in his chest. Now that you don’t have to be seated on the floor to be in frame for the Zoom call, the two of you opted to move to the lumpy but still much more comfortable couch.

The gentle strokes of his hand in your hair is familiar and comforting, reminding you of the infinite patience he’s always shown to you. It’s a reminder that this is Taehyung. The boy you grew up with through thick and thin. Your best friend. And that gives you the boldness to continue despite your embarrassment.

“How? And when?”

“Honestly,” he trails off slightly, in thought, “I think it was Samantha who made me realize it.”

A pang of jealousy hits you. But you’re immediately wondering if it’s even warranted, now that you guys are… Well, what exactly are you? You make a mental note to clarify that.

“She was jealous, y’know,” he continues. “Didn’t want to say it at first, and tried to put up with it because she understood that our friendship is not something she could just expect me to give up.

“But it got to a point where things just couldn’t go on any longer. What she initially saw as discomfort that she would learn to overcome with time, soon became an awareness that the two of us were crossing the line of just friends, even if we hadn’t realized it at the time.”

Taehyung sighs, causing you to look at him. He smiles down at you, and skims your cheek with his thumb affectionately. “Maybe it’s because you’ve been here by my side all my life, that it was such a gradual thing and neither of us really realized it.”

“Yeah,” you mumble. “It was only after you began dating her that I realized how not okay with that I was. I thought it was just me being the possessive best friend trying to get used to having to share you. But then I realized I didn’t just want my best friend back. I wanted what she had.”

Swallowing hard, you remember the bitterness of the jealousy you felt back then, and that still recurs from time to time.

“What about you then? How did you come to recognize your feelings?” you ask.

“Samantha made me face up to them.” There’s a faraway look in his eyes. “One day she laid it all out, about us being more than just friends. And when I denied it, she asked me, would I choose you over her if I were forced into making that decision. The answer very nearly rolled straight off my tongue. And that was when I knew.”

“Is that why you broke up?” you ask. Taehyung nods. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, you silly girl.” He boops you on the nose. “I’m just thankful that Samantha was as understanding as she was about it. I think that’s why it took me a long time to get over it -- knowing that I’d hurt someone as wonderful as she is with my own blind ignorance.”

“And you too,” he says, leaning down to lay a soft peck on your lips. “I hated knowing that I’d hurt you because of my lack of awareness of my own feelings. That’s why I had to take my time this time around, to make sure that I know for sure.”

“Do you know for sure now?”

“Yes,” he says, holding your gaze with seriousness that has you swimming in its depths. “I’m yours now. Purely and fully.”

When you returned to your apartment the next morning, Irene was waiting to grill you on your whereabouts. It didn’t escape her notice that you hadn’t come back to the apartment the previous night, and she joked about how the vacant rooms in Taehyung’s apartment probably didn’t matter because you could always spend the night sharing his bed anyway.

And when you, blushing madly but holding your own nonetheless, informed her that she was right, well, you should have anticipated her squeals of excitement. “Tell me everything!” she had demanded.

You also should have anticipated the endless teasing that she would put the two of you through, especially in the Christmas season. After a trip out to the stores, finally taking a break from her Lifetime holiday movies marathon, she’d returned with copious amounts of mistletoe to hang all around the apartment, insisting the two of you make up for lost time.

But what Irene doesn’t need to know is just how much the two of you agree with her. Stealing a tiny sprig of mistletoe from around the house -- there’s so much that she wouldn’t even notice anyway -- you pack it into one of the clear baubles you’d bought for Taehyung’s Christmas present, nestling it into the box alongside the other clear baubles that were customized with pictures of the two of you.

[buckyownsmylife]

t r e a c h e r o u s - chapter iii

for general warnings, author’s notes and disclaimer, please go to the fic’s masterlist

if you’re interested, you can join my taglist

A/N for this chapter: we’re in the smut, finally! From this chapter until the end, it’s just a sucession of smut smut and smut, pwp really. Hope you guys enjoy it!

Chris’ P.O.V.

“What are the rules?” I asked Sebastian, my gaze fixed on the sinful woman sitting on the bed before me. I had never felt this attraction to Y/N before. Sure, I knew she was hot and desired by men worldwide, but having met her when she already was with Sebastian, I never really allowed myself to pay much attention to her, choosing to focus on the fact that she was so young, instead. 

She was forbidden territory. That should have been enough to keep my wandering thoughts away. But everything had changed since Sebastian came to me for advice. Since that day, I had found myself wondering how he could ignore her allure, not feeling in the slightest the sexual grip his girl had. It had been so hard for me to ignore it and there he was, completely oblivious to it. 

After our talk in the bar, I finally allowed myself to think of her that way. And that very same night, I dreamt of her. I had her spread out on my bed, under me, and I pounded her like the dirty little whore I finally allowed myself to imagine she was. I mean, I had heard her songs. I saw the way she moved on stage. There was no way that girl didn’t like to be fucked hard and the fact that she had begged Sebastian to relent and try anything necessary to give her what she needed was only proving my thesis.

And by God did she look the part. Her breasts were spilling out from the top of the little black lace lingerie she had chosen to wear and despite the fact that she looked at me with the most innocent doe eyes I had ever seen, I couldn’t ignore the image I had briefly caught of her ass on the tiny excuse of a panties she had put on. 

I licked my lips, eager to finally get my hands on her.

“I don’t know. Whatever, man.” Sebastian interrupted my train of thought and I had to think for a few seconds to realize that he was answering my question. I’d forgotten I’d even asked it in the first place. “I trust you. You do whatever you feel like it’s appropriate, whatever she agrees you can do. I think it’s the only way for this to work.” And with that, he found a spot in one of the chairs in one corner of the room, crossing his ankle over the knee and settling his piercing gaze on us. 

Turning my attention back to the woman waiting for me, I noticed she shivered as I approached her on the bed. Cautiously, I let my fingers caress the skin of her arm all the way to her jaw, smiling to myself as goosebumps raised on the path I had traced, loving the way she rested her head on my open palm as I took her face in my hand.

“You okay there, princess?” I asked, my face mere inches apart from her as I searched her eyes for any signs of hesitance there. I couldn’t find any, only a lust so powerful that almost took my breath away.

“I’m okay,” she whispered, her eyes never travelling away from mine. Her breathing was coming out from her lips in short pants, and I absentmindedly realized she must have been really desiring me for her body to be reacting that way.

I forced myself to be reasonable, remembering she hadn’t had anyone touch her in a sexual manner since before she started dating Sebastian. This didn’t mean she had any special feelings towards me, one of her closest friends, only that she really needed to get laid.

“I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” I asked, briefly glancing at Sebastian, almost waiting for him to jump up and stop this, at least to say that it was a far too personal move, but nothing. He truly was about to let me do whatever I wanted to his girl, I realized. 

Oh well. I wasn’t about to lose this opportunity. Sitting down by her side, I carefully wrapped my hand around the back of her neck, feeling how tense her muscles were under my fingers. “Relax, babygirl,” I whispered, leaning into her and pulling her gently to me. 

I tried to ignore how electrified I felt the moment that our lips touched. Such a simple gesture, still so pure, and yet a carnal need I had never felt before suddenly arose from the depths of my being, urging me to swallow her whole. I separated from her for a bit, trying to catch my breath and control my emotions, but her concerned eyes made me remember what had brought me here. This was a girl who was struggling with her own self-esteem, thinking that there was something wrong with her for her boyfriend to not be able to fuck her, and by restraining myself, I was probably making her think that I wasn’t really interested in her.

So I let go of my carefully constructed control, pulling her to me once more, for a kiss that was all tongue and teeth and pure, unbound desire. I could think it was only from me, but the truth was that I felt her hands roaming my chest and the warmth that emanated from her was unbelievable. When we pulled away to catch our breaths, her pupils were dilated to the point I could barely see the color of her eyes.

So I kissed her once more, carefully laying her down on the mattress as I positioned myself between her legs. By now, I had completely forgotten about the man seated on the other side of the room, my best friend. I could only focus on the goddess in front of me, the way she tasted, how she felt underneath me. One of my fingers teased the edge of her bra, making her release the sweetest little breathless gasp as I slowly went to tease her nipple over the lace still covering it.

“Can I take this off?” After her nod, I did just so, briefly remembering Sebastian was watching us as I threw the undergarment his way. Luckly, he seemed to have thought that I had thrown it directly for him, and he caught it with a chuckle.

I tried to forget about his presence again. I thought it would be hard, but then her breasts came into view and my mind could only focus on her. I slowly rubbed her nipples with my thumbs, our eyes meeting as I silently asked if it was okay to continue. When she once again nodded, I didn’t hesitate to envelop her hardened bud with my mouth.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

It was hard not to moan at the simple sight of Chris trying not to smile at my instinctive reaction to chase his mouth by arching my back. That was something I never thought I’d get to see in my life. This was my boyfriend’s best friend, for God’s sake.

Still, Sebastian was the last thing in my mind as Chris swirled his tongue around my nipple, cautiously sucking it into his mouth. I wanted to scream. God, it had been so long. It felt so good to feel the touch of a man on my skin again. And the way Chris was touching me… It was like he really desired me. It wasn’t love, no, but I’d been frustrated for so long. This passion would serve just fine.

Chris continued with his kisses over my belly after he gave my other breast the same treatment he had given the first one. His kisses were wet, he tasted my skin as he went further down, until his lips danced just over my underwear. This time, he didn’t ask, opting simply to connect his eyes to mine and see if there was resistance before pulling it from my body and throwing it away. 

He returned his spot between my legs, but his face was now eye-level with my glistening pussy. I watched as he licked his lips, his attention now clearly fixated on the task at hand, and I tried not to shiver as he softly ran the palms of his big hands on the inside of my thighs.

The first lick was torture. He did it so carefully, only testing the waters, making sure to check my reaction. But the thing was, that simple touch was enough to awaken that part of me that I had put to sleep, in an effort to save my relationship with Seb. That one movement went straight to my brain and then I was nothing but a puddle of red hot passion, desperately in need to feel pleasure running through me.

And Chris noticed.

So he immediately latched onto my little nub and sucked, eventually going down to slurp on the wetness pouring out of my hole before coming back to languidly lap on my clit again. It didn’t take long for him to bring me to the edge, and when he noticed it by the way the muscles of my thighs quivered and I forcefully took a hold of his hair to keep him against my pussy, he pushed one finger into me and started thrusting, throwing me off the cliff of desire completely.

I had to bite my tongue so I wouldn’t scream his name.

Looking down, I noticed that Chris had been watching my reactions with a predatory glint in his eyes. It took my breath away. With one last kiss right over my clit, he started to climb up my body until he was hovering just over me once more.

“I wish I could take time with you,” he whispered before reaching for a condom I’d left on the bedside table. I didn’t have a lot of time to ponder about what he meant, because then he was pushing inside of me.

My mouth fell open at the feeling of him invading me. Once again, I’d never thought I would get to experience this. I held him tightly by the shoulders, terrified that he would second guess this moment and leave. Because at that second, I didn’t want to remember what it was like to live without him inside of me.

Chris kissed my cheek, my jaw, until he reached the crook of my neck while he waited for me to adjust to his size. Only when I tried to force him to move did he actually do so, but not without hiding his face against my skin, his hands finding mine and forcefully securing them against my head. 

It was a gesture far too personal for something that was supposed to be only sex.

His hips were the only thing moving, and I felt the way his mouth fell open against my skin as he started to thrust into me with all he had. I was being effectively fucked into the mattress where I was used to laying with my boyfriend, by someone who wasn’t my boyfriend.

Once again, it took everything in me not to moan Chris’ name out loud.

He fucked me so good, I was seeing stars behind my closed eyelids. And the only reason why I was keeping my eyes shut was because I was scared of meeting Chris’, scared of what I would find there and how it would make me feel. Of what it would bring out of me.

He might have thought the same, because he kept his head safely hidden in the crook of my neck, whispering my name so lightly it was impossible for Sebastian to hear over the sounds of Chris’ cock slipping in and out of my wet pussy. His horse voice was enough to bring me to that delicious edge again, and when he met me there, one of his hands came up to pull on my nipple while he bit on my shoulder to suffocate his own scream of release.

But he covered his teeth with his lip, mindful to not leave any marks on a body that didn’t belong to him. Still, that bit of pain was precisely what I needed to cum around him at the same time I felt him filling up the condom. Then we just stood there, catching our breaths for a moment, uncertain of how to behave around each other now, especially since Sebastian was watching.

Seb’s P.O.V.

One thing was sure, after that little show, I didn’t know if I was more horny or jealous, but the fact was: I was horny. And for the first time, I felt the pressing need to bury myself inside of my girlfriend.

“Chris…” I started, rising up from my seat. My friend immediately got out of the bed, struggling to look for his clothes. “You know where the bathroom is, right?” I continued, but my eyes were fixated on Y/N, who looked slightly out of breath, still spread out in bed. He didn’t say anything, but I assumed he nodded, and before long, it was just my girlfriend and I in our shared bedroom. “Baby.” I leaned down next to her, caressing her head to call her attention to me. “Do you think you can handle one more round?”

Her eyes grew big as she stared at me in surprise.

“You mean…?” Grinning, I nodded.

“Yeah.” She nodded slowly, her eyes traveling from mine to the bulge barely contained in my jeans. “I can handle one more round.”

“Let’s do it. I can’t wait to be inside of you.”

[karimac]

…in the details, Part 3

A/N: Warning for this series: 18+ audience (minors DNI), some cinematic level violence, some fluff and angst. Doubt that smut will be involved, but it may be implied. I’ll make sure that is noted clearly if it pops up.

All relationships, at this point anyway, are platonic.

Please do not repost or translate my work. Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

A bit about the OC Kari

Part 1

Part 2

All mistakes are my own.

Word count: 3,556

Well, that was not exactly the best idea, was it?

Dr. Darcy Lewis, unlike her colleague, Dr. Erik Selvig, was not a big fan nor an authority on any form of mythology. And the Irish history ask was a longshot at best.

So, here you were, in the coffee shop smack dab in the middle of Westview, talking to Dr. Lewis and getting nowhere fast.

“And, that’s not happening,” the astrophysicist grumbled as she set down her phone and took another sip of her beverage. It was some weirdly sweet concoction that looked like what humans thought rainbow-colored unicorn poop looked like. This world was not ready for what real magical beasts looked like. Most authors had not gotten all of that right in their books. No surprise there. No human really needed to see such things on a daily basis, and whoever had been the muses for those authors had covered up a lot.

“I take it Dr. Selvig has no clue on the Celtic Pantheon?” you asked as you sipped your very boring, light, non-sweet hot coffee. The barista probably wanted to laugh when you ordered it, but he did his best to stifle his snicker. “It was a very long reach on my part, Dr. Lewis. I’m sorry I roped you into this.”

“You can call me Darcy because you actually acknowledge my academic status,” the brunette said as she flipped her phone over again. “So, Thor is off in space. You don’t want me calling Falcon or his pal with the metal arm. Captain Marvel isn’t on your contact list. Ant Man and The Wasp? They can be sort of science geeks, right? Wait. Banner? Is he OK to call?”

Before you could open your mouth, Darcy was texting Banner off her own phone. “You know Bruce?”

“I met him at some meet and greet at MIT before the world went poof,” Darcy replied as she set her phone back down and seemed to be praying Banner would actually return her text. “Stark was there, too, but Banner was the one I got coffee with. Sweet guy, you know, even if he gets all green sometimes.”

As you sipped your coffee, you noticed a few people giving you odd looks. It made you very nervous. “Maybe we should finish up and get back on the road?” you asked Darcy as you quietly motioned toward the other patrons getting their daily fix of caffeine.

“Yeah, bubbe isn’t answering me anyway,” Darcy said as she picked up her phone and got up from her chair. By now there were several residents blocking the exit. “What is your problem? We paid. We’re busing our table. Then we’re leaving.”

“Are The Avengers going to hunt her down?” one woman in the back of the group asked as Darcy looked back toward you and mouthed the word “Help” before turning back to the crowd. The questioner was loud, but you couldn’t see her because of the big delivery man standing in front of her with a huge pile of Amazon packages. “Why did you come back?”

It was time to vamp. With an apparently faulty memory, this was going to be interesting.

“Before you all ask about what is going to happen regarding Wanda Maximoff, I want you all to know I have no authority to speak for The Avengers. I have never been a true member of the team. I helped them at a time when things were beyond bleak for this world. It was an honor and a privilege. But I am not a spokesperson. I am not a team leader.”

“Then why did you come here?” a man with glasses, holding a briefcase, asked from the line where he was waiting for his order. “Then and now?”

“I came the first time because I was looking for my friend. I was pulled into that nightmare just like you were. I wish I had been able to help her before any of this happened.”

“But you have powers, right? Couldn’t you have shut her down, hot stuff?” the first woman added as she moved to the front. Then you recognized her. Agatha Harkness. If Wanda kept her alive, there was a reason for it, and all the pain you had rising in your core had to be tamped down fast. Harkness had hurt Wanda, and that would have to be addressed one day. You were good at playing the long game.

“Taking her out in any sort of power stunt could have jeopardized your lives. I was not sure what she did to make it all happen, and I was not going to risk your lives. I’m sorry it wasn’t put to an end sooner. Now, if you will excuse us, we need to get to a meeting regarding the incident here,” you said as you and Darcy pushed through the crowd and back out to the street.

“OK, what was all that? Spin? Or are you remembering something?” Darcy asked as you got back into her car. You had left your rental on the outskirts of town. Better to travel as a unit until your business here was concluded.

“I remember a couple of things from that mess,” you said as you tried to keep your hands from shaking. “I remember Wanda and Vision’s sons. Billy and Tommy. I remember the house where I lived. Can we drive out to where Wanda had her house? Maybe that will help?”

Darcy pulled out of the parking space and made the lefts and rights to the lot where Wanda’s house had been. The one you were living in was in a lot right next to it. It was empty now, too, but you got out of the car anyway and stood in the center of the patch of dirt. You closed your eyes and held your breath as you tried to piece together what had happened. And then you started to cry as you fell to your knees.

“Whoa, slow down,” Darcy said as she ran and knelt beside you. “What did you see?”

“It’s weird. Wanda came over one day and more or less apologized to me because she couldn’t give me my real happy ending. I can show you, if you’ll let me…”

“Go into my mind?” Darcy protested before you could wave her off the idea. “No Vulcan mind melds for me today, thanks.”

“No, I carry this mirror, and you can see memories in it. Trust me, I do not use telepathy as a first line of anything. I tried it once, to help a friend, but it just caused more problems,” you groaned as you pulled the mirror out of your backpack. You waved your hand over it, and Darcy could now see what had happened with Wanda.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t find them and bring them here,” the Sokovian said quietly as she walked around the 1980s version of what was your living room. It was way too pastel for your liking, but the hints of fuchsia, orchid and teal in the overall cream and light gray design weren’t so bad. You had a couple of cats there with you. One was an orange tabby with a penchant for eating tuna at any given moment. He was warm and affectionate and just a ray of sunshine dressed in fur. The other was as white as the driven snow, but his own cuddly disposition came through. He was the one who would leave you weird gifts every morning. Rocks, feathers, and yes, the occasional dead mouse would be at the foot of your bed each sunrise. You’d find out at the end of that nightmare that the cats were only constructs of Wanda’s chaos magic.

“I know you miss the three of them,” she continued as she pointed to a framed picture of Steve, Bucky and Sam, all decked out in appropriate 1980s clothes that made them look like they ran away from some cop drama. “It’s probably better that there aren’t too many Avengers here anyway. Vis is getting concerned. And this way, well, no one needs to know which one you would have chosen. I know. You know. So you can always talk to me. Like we did before. But I gave you the wedding ring to make sure no one came on to you. Just in case I can get him here soon.”

As you showed Darcy the memory, a tiny part of you was screaming that this whole scenario seemed wrong. You watched Wanda’s crimson glow float around you as she spoke. You vaguely remembered The Morrigan trying to kick some sense back into your addled brain, but Wanda’s world was much too enticing to let your other self come to the fore. You wanted the damned happily ever after with the husband and the house and everything that meant in the modern American ethos. You had rationalized things for years in such a way that you’d never let yourself get it. That was why no one was here to hug you at night like Wanda had Vision. Maybe that fact alone was enough to crack Wanda’s hold on you a bit more than she realized?

But you also had to admit that you wanted to be there for Wanda in case things went south. That much was clear from the moment you showed up in Westview the first time.

“How come you didn’t just zap her? Fight back?” Darcy asked as you fully shifted to the present day and paused the memory.

“Because she wasn’t wrong. I did miss Bucky, Steve and Sam. I missed Banner, too, because they were, in the end, the ones still here that cared if I lived or died. And Spider-Man. Which is random and weird, but he did. And frankly, what I said in the coffee shop was true. I had no idea what my powers would do to her spell. I could have leveled the town. That was not an option.”

“So, that Agatha woman…” Darcy started to say and then stopped. “Wait. That was her? In the coffee shop? That was why you were acting so weird?”

“Yeah. Wanda could have killed her or taken Agatha away with her to imprison her. She didn’t. After what Agatha tried to do to Wanda, to try and take her powers, Wanda had every right to finish her off. But Wanda doesn’t likely know all that yet. There are rules set up from ages ago. Things witches can and can’t do to each other under specific circumstances. So Wanda left her trapped here—for now anyway. But, whatever happened with them, it affected me, too. I got hit with stray magic blasts. I’m betting it messed up my powers in ways I didn’t realize. And maybe my memories as well.”

As Darcy knelt there, her phone finally chimed. It was some weird little R2-D2 chirpy beep, and she looked elated as she showed you the message. “Seems Bruce still cares if you are OK or not. I don’t think bringing him here is such a great idea…”

“Did anyone send him data about what happened here?” you asked as you got to your feet, pocketing some of the dirt from the lot before you stood up. “Air and soil samples? Readings from the residents?”

“I can get them for him. Trust me, Jimmy Woo and Monica Rambeau would be more than happy to help. I’m glad that loon Hayward seems to have gone into hiding or was hauled away to The Raft,” Darcy noted as she checked her phone again. “Seems the doc is working out of a Stark lab here in Jersey. Road trip?”

You really didn’t want to go see Bruce. You had no idea how you’d explain any of what you did to him.

++++++++++

You rehearsed what you planned to tell Bruce a million times in your mind as Darcy drove along the Garden State Parkway to a place called Woodcliff Lake. Stark Industries did indeed have a lab there, and it made you want to scream as you walked into the facility. You did not need yet another reminder that you could not save Tony Stark’s life at the end of that final battle with Thanos. That was part of why you were in this mess in the first place. It was also why you had a screaming fight with Stephen Strange, but no one else knew about that yet.

“Dr. Banner? We’re here!” Darcy yelled as you walked toward what had to be the research wing. The lack of security in the place was a bit disturbing, but then again, there were probably booby traps built into every square inch of the place. You could just hear Tony now as you got closer to the lab area. It would likely have been close to the speech you got the first time he talked to you at the compound.

“Hey! Lucky Charms! Don’t touch any of the expensive stuff. I guess that means don’t touch anything. I still have no idea why you are hanging around the team except that Steve wants you here for some reason. Maybe you’re tied to…his friend…and I just don’t want to face that? Still have issues with all of that, even if the man is dead. Pepper and Morgan said I should be nice to you, but I’m not quite there yet after what happened in Berlin. They are better people than I’ll ever be.”

“Earth to Kari?” you finally heard Bruce say as he waved his massive green hand in front of your face. Then he realized why you were likely spacing out. "Dr. Lewis, can we have a minute?”

“You can call me Darcy, if I can call you Bruce?” Lewis said as Banner nodded to her. “Cool. I’ll go find the little scientist’s room and be right back,” she added as she left the lab.

“So,” Bruce started as he pointed you toward a set of chairs at one side of the lab, “Darcy filled me in via text. I have no idea what happened with Wanda, and I know none of us know where she is. I did call a friend who wants to help,” he noted as a swirling circle of yellow light formed near the window that looked out over the parking lot. “I figured you’d listen to him, and he knows more about this stuff than I do.”

“What did you do?” Wong shouted as he exited the portal. “You usually listen to reason. Why did you go after Wanda all alone?”

“I went to help Wanda. She was hurting. She watched Vision die twice. She lost Pietro. I can relate to all that very, very well. My twin Branan died in front of my eyes, too, and I’ve buried two husbands. Both died in battle. I just wanted her to know she wasn’t alone. But she…she hit all my vulnerable points. And she was under attack at the same time. From a woman named Agatha Harkness and from the director of SWORD. Some martinet named Hayward. He built another Vision. I think Hayward was using Wanda’s powers to bring him to life. Darcy is going to check in with some of the people who worked with her to get you more intel, Bruce.”

“Another version of Vision? Great,” Bruce muttered as he looked over at Wong. “As for this Harkness person…”

“The name rings very small bells, so I’ll need to do some research,” Wong noted as you bumped your left fist against your forehead. “What?”

“Harkness is a succubus. And she is old. Not as old as I am, but she is still a good 400 years old, give or take a day. She apparently survived the Salem Witch Trials. Wanda spelled her and left her in Westview. I think she is, at least in small ways, aware that her world is all wrong. I didn’t want to press it when I saw her in that coffee shop. We do not need an angry succubus flying around. Wong, they got into an aerial battle, and Wanda was using sigils, runes, whatever you want to call them, to focus her power. I think she picked that up from good old Aggie. I never showed her anything like that on purpose. I always suspected she had magic in her bones, but it wasn’t my place to start that fire. The bigger issue is that Wanda conjured up two children while she was there. She created cats for me, so anything is possible. I got knocked out by the end of the fight, so I have no idea what exactly happened in the end other than Wanda running off and Agatha being left behind for some reason.”

“And?” Wong asked as he started to look you up and down. “You did a spell? And it went bad? Your aura is all messed up.”

“I…I tried to do a spell so The Avengers would think of me less and less, and then eventually I’d just be a fleeting memory. I felt walking away in the dead of night, the thing I usually do when I am leaving town, would not be good enough. The spell got botched, and now I’m connected in some fashion to Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. Looking back at it, I spent more time with them in the days leading up to my departure. Steve and Bruce were there the day I left, and so were Sam and Bucky. And…I’m carrying a lot of guilt about Bucky after his accident in 1943.”

“All this on top of the magical circus Wanda made? Are you insane?” Wong yelled as he started to pace.

“And the fight I had with Stephen on the day of the battle. Yeah, I guess I am insane,” you replied as Wong threw up his hands. Bruce had gotten extremely quiet, and that was not a good thing.

“Before we get to dissecting your spell, Kari, was this because of what Tony said? About you not being an Avenger because you were…?”

“Unstable? Yes. And the fact I could not bring anyone back from the grave, especially during that last battle. And the fact about who killed his parents. Buck did while under Hydra control. Steve found out and never told Tony. I ran into The Winter Soldier a few times over the decades, so there was the chance I could have prevented their deaths, too. Tony really had no reason to ask me to join the band.”

“Once we get your spell problem sorted, then we will address this, too,” Bruce said as he looked toward Wong and shook his head. “I loved Tony like a brother, but he was wrong…”

You winced a few times as you tried to listen to Bruce and Wong, now joined once again by Darcy, as they tried to figure out how to fix or reverse that spell, and they hashed out what might have happened to you during that first trip to Westview. You were really trying to focus on their questions, but you felt a tug that no one else could ever have possibly felt.

“Baltimore,” you mumbled as you pulled out your cellphone and debated texting the person you felt tugging at that damned invisible string. No. That would have ended badly, especially since your original spell had gone haywire.

“Bucky Barnes was arrested?” Darcy asked as she showed you her phone alert. “I bet he punched that new fake Cap in the nose. Sorry, but that guy looks like he has no clue. I saw him on Good Morning America. Total cheese fest.”

“Wait. What?” you asked as you took her phone. “Sam didn’t keep the shield? I just hope Bucky didn’t punch Sam and wind up in jail for that!” You gave Darcy back her phone and looked at yours again. It was buzzing. “Anyone here know who the hell is Christina Raynor?” you asked the trio in front of you. No one had any clue about that. You hit the speaker button as you answered the call.

“Hello? Ms. MacOrish. I’m James Barnes’ therapist, Christina Raynor. Sam Wilson said I should give you a call and ask you to join us in Baltimore. As quickly as possible, if you can. I don’t think Mr. Barnes wants to spend the night in a holding cell.”

“Oh no, you are not going to Baltimore,” Wong said as he crossed his arms and got a stern look on his face. “Not while your head is all over the place. You could portal to Baltimore in the 1800s for all you know. You could end up eating lunch with Lord Baltimore in the 1700s. You really shouldn’t do this.”

“Wong, what better place for me to go than to see a therapist?” you said with a smirk as you opened your own portal, this one a lovely shade of emerald green, that went to where Raynor was waiting for you—outside an interrogation room at the city jail.

“Mr. Wilson said you’d be fast. He did not tell me you were one of the powered class,” Raynor said as you went through the portal, looking back to wave briefly as you heard Darcy’s last comment.

“What about your rental car?”

[revengeisourlullaby]

If I Never Knew You Pt.5

Pt.1  Pt.2  Pt.3  Pt.4  Pt.5  Pt.6

Warnings: 18+, angst, secret relationship plot, kinda royal au, arranged marriage plot, fighting

a/n: Hope everyone is doing well. Here is the second to last part. I’m going to upload the final part right after I upload this one. Just so y’all aren’t waiting for the resolve :)

Word count: 1.7K

Loki x female!reader

Feeling the pebbles roll under your feet, you felt your legs begin to shake with anticipation and dread. The panic that you were holding off while with Loki was beginning to come back and you wanted to turn and run the other way. You knew you needed to do this and finally come clean to your parents but the idea was just so awful you wanted to run and hide away forever. 

Before you knew it you were standing out front of your childhood home feeling a bubble of unease build in your throat. Breathing deep and exhaling hard, you put your hand on the doorknob and stepped inside your home. Your family once again sitting at the dining table talking amongst one another.

There was someone you didn’t recognize sitting in what was normally your seat. You felt the energy shift around you and suddenly you felt something worse than panic settle in your gut.

“Y/N, there you are! We were so worried when you didn’t come home last night. You haven’t done that in a while. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Your mother rose from her chair, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug. Your father looked at you with disdain on his features, obviously trying to figure out where you were in the night.

“Glad to know you’re alright, Y/N. Come sit down and meet who we think might be a perfect suitor for you.”

Your heart sank to your stomach. You felt your face get hot and your emotions were mixing with intense anger and despondency. You didn’t want to have to fake interaction with someone you knew nothing about let alone didn’t care learning about. It would be adulterous to Loki and you couldn’t bear the thought of engaging in such horror. You found your courage and finally decided to put your foot down in this situation.

“Actually, that is what I was coming to talk to you guys about. I found someone. I have for over a year now.”

“What?! Y/N that’s amazing but why haven’t you told us anything.”

Your mother’s eyes lit up in curiosity wondering why you were so private with something that was causing you such trouble. 

“I’ve been fearful of your reaction to whom it is I have found boundless love with.”

Your father’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion waiting for you to continue your declaration. Your mother on the other hand was just overjoyed that her dearest daughter had found somebody. You opened your mouth again before your mother cut you off,

“Well, what’s his name? I want to know everything about him!”

You sighed, the next words you had to speak feeling like lead on your tongue. 

“Y-you know the all-father?”

“Y/N! Are you courting Thor??”

Your father tapped your mother’s hand in discipline,

“Let her speak and you will find out. Stop interrupting her”

You sighed again, playing with your fingers out of anxiety about what you were about to say next.

“I-it’s actually his brother. Loki.”

The air became suffocating. Loki’s name always putting a sour thought in people’s minds because of his notorious behavior. You felt the excitement in the air turn to disappointment and rotted curiosity. 

“We met in one of the gardens a year ago and something about us was magnetic and drew us together. We started out with a friendship and a few months in he asked if courtship would be a viable option to further our relationship. I said yes reluctantly because I feared your responses so deeply.”

You decided to lay it out all on the table hoping that maybe it would persuade their opinion of someone that they felt so little for.

“He cares for me with such truth. I’ve never felt this with anyone before and the way that he understands me makes me feel like I have finally been found. He loves me with such ardor that I feel complete finally. All that was thought of him is something of the past. He has matured indefinitely and the feelings I have formed for him are incessant and I can’t let that go.”

Finally letting out all the extra air in your lungs you felt such a weight lifted off your chest. You still feared what their answer would be regarding their approval but they knew now. If they cared for you like they said they did they would be able to see your admiration for your current partner. And you hoped that would be enough to not have your parents strip that from you.

“Y/N...of all the people you could have chosen. That treacherous excuse for a god is where you let your feelings reside?!”

Your father’s response made you feel sick. This is exactly what you were predicting what would happen. But your mother was unusually silent. Her eyes drifted off to space on the floor and it was difficult to read what she was thinking of. Your father stood up from his chair and spoke again, his voice thick with dismay.

“Loki?! How could you let yourself stoop so low? He’s nothing but a troublemaker and you for some reason have become so weak to fall for him. Where did I go wrong wit-?”

“-Alright that’s enough, dear.”

Your mother finally spoke up and cut your father off. He looked at her incredulously and at that moment you began to feel such regret for the man that was still stuck at the table. Falling victim to the conflict between you and your parents. Your mother spoke again,

“Maybe, just maybe dear, we were wrong about him. Our daughter is not a halfwit. She has such a powerful mind and she has waited this long to find a suitor for her to make her happy. Perhaps we should give them our blessing. If she’s happy then that is all that matters. It is not our life to live.”

“No! I cannot and will not allow that dope to spoil our daughter. Let alone create a family with him. I don’t care how luxurious that tower it is you stay in with him but get your last visit in-”

“Father.-”

“This is non-negotiable. My heels have been dug-”

“Father, I may bear his child.”

The silence that fell over the room was deafening. You could hear the rise and fall of each person’s breath and it was haunting. You hadn’t yet known if this was a possibility but with the night's previous endeavors, it wasn’t a shot in the dark. It was your last-ditch effort and you were willing to do anything to keep Loki in your life.

“You what?”

Your father stepped closer to you trying to find the lie in your demeanor but it was never found. 

“Dear, please do not chastise her. What is done is done. We must give the blessing now. Child out of wedlock is not something I want to be stained on our or his family's name.”

Your mother stood up and came to your side, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you to sit down at the table. Wrapping her hands around yours she spoke with such serene.

“My Y/N. You are like an untamed bull. Your headstrong nature will catch up to you one day but with that being said. I am more than happy that you have finally found your person. If he treats you as well as you say he does then that is all I can ask from him. I can only hope to meet him soon and that he knows he is welcome in our home. The blessing you seek is already had.”

“Says who?”

Your father chimed in

“She needs both of our blessings to go through with his eloping and as far as I am concerned. I have yet to give her the go-ahead. I am not giving away my daughter to someone who has yet to show truth and consistency in something other than mischief. I will not allow it! And that’s final!”

The tears that were once falling in joy were now falling down hot in fear. 

Why must he be like this? My happiness matters too.

Pointing to the man at the table your father spoke through gritted teeth and told him to get out. He had no business being there anymore anyway. And with the direction the conversation was going, it wouldn’t be fair to have him in the mix.  

“As for you. You aren’t to see that man again.”

“No! Dad, wait! You can’t do this. Please, he’s the only person outside of you guys who has seen me for me! Please do not take that away from me!”

Your heart was doing backflips in your chest and it felt like you couldn’t breathe. Everything that you had built up was beginning to crumble. 

“You aren’t to see him until my mind is made. I’m beyond disappointed in you and at the root of it all, I am unsure of what to think.”

“Dear if she is to be with chi-”

“I KNOW! But that doesn't mean I feel any different towards the bastard. For all I know he took advantage of her, knowing her situation and now we're stuck with the consequence.”

“Father, it’s not like that I swear!”

“Enough! You have said enough today.”

Removing your hands from your mother's, you hung your head in your hands. The tears now overflowing as you hit your breaking point. 

“Your tears will not alter my decision any faster so you can give that a rest, Y/N.”

Standing up from the chair you were overcome with anger. Your voice was meek because of all the pressure built up in your throat but you made sure to make your point delivered. 

“If you ever pretended to care about half as much as you say you do, all those snarky remarks you make would be void. You cannot control me forever. If you loved me outwardly half as much as you say you do, you would’ve listened to me, but you never did.”

Walking toward your bedroom you couldn’t bear to speak anymore or be in the environment of the main room. It was deadly and you needed to rest. Closing the door you flopped on your bed. Hot tears falling down your cheeks and absorbing into your hair that was splayed out underneath you. You moved up to the top of your bed and hugged your pillow, pretending it was someone else to provide you with comfort. You sniffled and your eyes became heavy and you drifted off to sleep. The energy completely stripped from you.

_______________________________________________________________________

Taglist: @mad4marvelloki​ @lightmelikeamatch​

[immortalonus]

Where You Belong: Chapter 3

A/N: I hate this chapter so, so much. Unfortunately, I also couldn't find any way around it. If I got anything wrong, chances are I just missed it, so feel free to let me know.

Read on AO3 here.

“...Humans with ghost powers!? Crazy, right?” Valerie snorted, then paused.

“Or humans that turn into ghosts, or ghosts that—stay human when they die or whatever. The important thing is that there was a part of Ellie that was real. And if it hadn't been for Phantom, I'd have just left her there with Plasmius, to do whatever—to hurt—to—”

Valerie took a moment, struggling to admit out loud what she had already begun suspect for herself.

“—kill her. he was gonna murder a little girl, mama, and if Phantom hadn't convinced me she still had some human in her, if I hadn't listened to a ghost, I woulda let him.”

Phantom, if she hadn't listened to Phantom, specifically. It was a detail that still irritated her every time it came up.

The ghost boy had been so persistent, for so long in his charade of being a “good guy,” that most days, she simply tuned him out.

And truly, was that so wrong?

Up to that point, Everything Phantom had said in his own defense had been nothing more than talk. Oh, he said sorry, he said he felt bad about it, but at the end of the day, what had he done?

Ruined her fathers job and her life, then fled the scene like the criminal he was.

Stole for the hell of it and couldn't even be bothered to take the blame when he got caught.

(Valerie still had no idea why the ghost thought an “evil mind controlling clown guy,” was a reasonable excuse, at all, for anything.)

Who was always ready to fight, but never to help.

Never, not once, in all the wretched aftermath of the Grey's financial dissolutionment, had Phantom come to their aid. Not in the immediate events that came after, nor during the process of her father's dismissal, when he could well have stayed his expulsion simply by appearing, proving Damian Grey's assertions of spectral interference months before he would have been otherwise believed.

Not during the move from her childhood home to her current residence down in Elmerton. Too strapped to hire assistance, it had been down to Valerie, her father, and Fenton, who had taken his weekend off to help her move instead.

No haunting the creditors who dogged their every step, even now.

Hell, he couldn't even be bothered to tell the public that it was his fault her life was ruined! In private, yes, where he knew no one could hear. But never where it mattered, to whom it mattered, since that would require Phantom to actually give something up for once and admit what he did was wrong. Which he would never do, because Phantom, like all ghosts, was a fundamentally egotistical creature, right down to his very core.

No, Valerie had good reason to believe that she had Phantom all figured out: A showboating prig, full of hot air and false excuses, distinct from other ghosts only in his capacity to fool the masses into believing he was ever anything more.

Then Elle happened.

The ghost girl's mere existence had managed to throw Valerie's world into a whole new tailspin, leaving her reeling even as events conspired to yank more and more of her footing out from under her, teetering on the edge of her own understanding as all her convictions suffered blow after blow.

Living ghosts.

Ghostly humans.

Friends acting as enemies.

While enemies acted as friends.

“I woulda let him kill her.” She repeated, “Just like I let him kill—end—All those other ghosts I gave him, just handed 'em over for whatever freak experiments he had cooked up.”

Just like she had snuffed out who knew how many other specters during her own patrols.

How many of them were still alive in there, she wondered, underneath the ghost?

Her mother's brows seemed to furrow in response, worried, no doubt, over what exactly her daughter had done.

“I didn't mean it mama, it wasn't my fault! It was all Plasmius, you know Plasmius? That knockoff Nosferatu all the time picking fights with Phantom. He used me and he lied, and—“ Valerie licked her lips futilely seeking moisture from a mouth gone dry.

“He played human to do it.”

Valerie felt a flush of rage and shame wash over her at the words. She had been used all over again, played for a fool and manipulated just like her so-called “friends” had used her before, dangling control and importance in exchange for the very essence of her soul.

To learn that she had struck the same deal with a different kind of devil, that all her power was a tool in someone else's hands had curdled into an ache that rivaled the raw burn of a whole new betrayal.

Because unlike the A-listers she'd run with not too long ago, or even Phantom, who she'd always hated, Vlad Masters had been a man she'd seen fit to trust.

“Plasmius was Masters, and—God, they even share the same first name—My sponsor, the guy who gave me my first suit, trained me up, even kept me and daddy off the streets when things were at their worst. And me stupid enough to think it was 'cause he cared.”

A hard exclamation escaped her throat at the thought, to forceful for a scoff, too sharp for laughter.

No such thing indeed.

“Everyone's out for something. Masters—Plasmius, he was out for Phantom, and I was just the pawn that was supposed to get take him out.”

That's part of what scares me too. Why was Plasmius so dead set on Phantom? Why'd he sink so much money into taking him out? Why does Phantom hate him back?”

And it was peculiar, how much Phantom seemed to hate Plasmius. Valerie had thought for a long time that it was some kind of territory dispute, a conflict over a rare and valuable thin spot between realities. After years of chasing after Phantom, however, it became more and more clear that the ghost boy's resentment of Plasmius went beyond that of simple competition.

The mere mention of the vampiric specter was enough to turn Phantom tense and snippy, as though the mere thought of the other ghost irritated him, somehow. After witnessing the two up close, Valerie's suspicions had cemented into certainty: Phantom hated Plasmius, and he hated him personally.

“There's so much I don't know, and no one to tell me. Plasmius doesn't know that I know, and until I get out from under him, that's how it's gotta stay.”

How Valerie was supposed to get out from under Plasmius was another question entirely. Plasmius, in Vlad Master's guise, was the sole reason the Grey family had managed to keep on top of its debts for as long as they had. To make matters worse, he also provided most of the materials Valerie's suit consumed for its more elaborate systems and weaponry.

Even so, the temptation to throw it all away and smash Plasmius' smug face against her boot was a strong one, stayed only by the fear of what would happen to her father if she tried.

“Phantom went squirrelly on me too,” she said. “I thought maybe I could get something from him, since we never ended that truce. But in the end, he was still just a ghost.”

She hadn't wanted to go to Phantom, in those days between Elle's escape and her decision to plunge into the Zone, had felt too much like would be admitting something, somehow, to do so. Had it not been for the fact that Phantom was her sole and only choice, she was sure she would never have asked at all.

Once she'd made the decision to do it, he'd been easy enough to track down. She found him—where else?—but In the middle of a fight, duking it out at altitude with one of the countless animal ghosts that regularly made their way across the paltry excuse for a veil stretched across Amity Park.

The fight had been easy, the conversation that came after it, much less so.

How could someone be alive and dead at the same time? Were they alive and dead at once? all the time? Did they alternate at will? Were they born? Were they made? How many were there? A lot? How did she spot a human-ghost if she saw it? Was there a way to tell? Or did you have to guess?

Phantom had been the one to tell her that these human-ghost, ghost-human things could exist in the first place, which had lead her to expect, rather despite herself, that perhaps he could explain them, too.

So it was only natural, really, that in that moment precisely, he had chosen to clam up. He knew nothing of these miraculous hybrids, could find out nothing concerning them, and as to finding them, he had no clue at all. Nevermind that it had been he who had first told her such beings were possible in the first place, the ghost was a veritable well of ignorance, utterly unable to aid in her pursuits.

“Ghosts are narrow minded and selfish, they go round everywhere like they've got blinkers on both sides of their head. You stick an idea in front of their nose, and they grab it if they like it, and shove it away if they don't. They don't consider where you got the idea from, they don't think about why its there, they don't even goddamn care why you picked it up in the first place. All that matters is somethings blocking their little slice of the world, theirs, specifically, 'cause they wouldn't never consider any other kind.

That was Phantom's problem, he wanted a truce yeah, but his way, not mine. A truce for beating things up, not a truce for trusting and talking or or anything that might give trouble to him. That wasn't how he wanted it to work.

He was even worse with Elle. She's the only other one I could talk to—not counting you, ma—who could tell me anything about anything about what was going on!

And Elle, I couldn't track her down. When she said she had places to be, I thought she meant like Phantom when there wasn't anything fun for him to hit, not just gone! I tried tracking her, I did, but it didn't work. Either staying human hides her, or she's run too far to track.

Stupid Phantom wouldn't help me with that, neither. It was just 'oh she's fine,' this and 'why do you care' that, like I can't worry about a human girl wondering on her own without nobody to make sure she's even fed!”

Not only had he been absurdly reluctant to answer her questions, but even had the audacity to wonder if they were at all related to her continued association with Plasmius. It was an insult, beyond all doubt, as though he didn't know how little choice she had.

As though he wasn't the one who forced her into making it.

“I guess so far as he figured, if Elle wasn't being kidnapped, then she was fine. It didn't matter that she's a kid, or alone, or was stealing apples just to eat. She was strong enough to survive on her own and not melt, and that was good enough for him. He just sat there when she left, too, watching her scat like any other ghost."

Did he know how far she intended to run, or simply fail to understand why he should care?

"No matter how well he thinks he means, Phantom can't help the human parts of her. Just because she could beat any man that tried to take doesn't mean that she doesn't get—scared, or lonely, or—“ Valerie wriggled uncomfortably in her pallet of dust. “—Or that she doesn't need people. Phantom can't give that, and Plasmius is a sick piece of shit, so that left me. Just me. If I let that go, then Elle'd be alone for real.”

The worry in her mother's gaze didn't lighten, exactly, but it did shift, consternation giving way to curiosity mixed with a hearty topping of concern. It was easy to imagine the question she would have asked, if she could but speak.

“Then what is it do you think you're doing all the way out here, hm?”

Valerie sighed. This, at least, she had a clear answer for.

“I'm on a mission. There's this thing called the infini-map. Don't have all the details, but with a name like that?” She scoffed, “don't need 'em. Whatever it is, its good enough to send Plasmius into a fit just at the idea of laying claws on it.

If I could get something like that, imagine, I could find Elle in a heartbeat. No more lookin', no more running blind and hoping for luck. And when I find her, I could use it get out from under Masters thumb for good. Use it, sell it, whatever, with that thing, it would be easy. Me and daddy could be set for life.”

At the time, the idea had seemed brilliant. With her search for Elle stymied, and rental payments approaching their inevitable due, she had latched onto the idea of a Ghost Zone mission the instant her so-called benefactor had brought it up. It was a chance to bleed “Mister Masters” of a little more of his money, without actually having to tolerate his presence for any length of time. Even better, it presented an opportunity to do right by her father while staying far away from the quiet anger, the soft, dispirited sense of regret that had seemed to overtake him as jobs remained scarce, and Valerie continued to hunt.

Perhaps most selfishly, it was the opportunity for the Red Huntress to become what Valerie had had always wanted her to be: A free agent, no puppet masters, no expectations, just the world, and herself within in it.

It was one thing she truly did not regret, even now, lying in the dirt looking up at the memory of a memory ripped to tatters in her hands. Whatever else happened in this strange, wild place, it was her decision, her choice. She was finally in control.

Thinking of control, there was another reason why she wanted to speed up her search for the ghost girl.

“Elle's a good kid, but she <i>is</i> a kid, with a ghost in her she don't even know to fear. I'm not sure how long she can fight it like that without anyone to tell her what's going on. She needs someone who knows about ghosts,who can show her how to fight back, 'cause if she doesn't, I'm not sure how long she'll last until she ends up Plasmius."

“Or Phantom.”

It was an ugly theory, but explained a great deal. The identical looks, the raw antipathy towards Vlad, in particular, or how a full ghost could see himself as related, somehow, to a being that was something so much more.

All ghosts came from somewhere, and Valerie rather doubted Elle was truly Plasmius' only attempt at capturing a hybrid of his own.

“'Cause I think they're the same kinda thing. It explains why Plasmius wanted her so bad, and they change the same way, too. They go from being a ghost, ectosignitures and all, to being alive. Not some fake, but breathing, heartbeats, everything. There's something in them that's really, truly alive.

Plasmius and Elle, they're both alive," she whispered, "but only Elle's human, and I don't know how long that's gonna last.

I can't stay stupid about all this ghost shit, neither. There's so much they won't tell me, and Elle's my ticket to figuring it out. If I can find her in time, I could fix it. Bring her to the Fentons, maybe, take out the ghost before it gets too big, make cash, move out me and daddy and Elle all together. Either way, this is how I do it, right here, right now. This is my chance.”

No more being lead around like a particularly witless donkey for his carrot wielding master, no more suppressing every violent impulse that threatened to take her over any time she chanced to look “Mister Masters” in his insufferable face, no more long, interminable periods of her nose against a grindstone day after day, scraping her fingers bloody against poverty's wall in the way her father seemed convinced was better, somehow, for all the pain it so obviously caused him.

“I know it's risky, but it's worth it, it's gotta be. If I can get the infinimap, then I can fix everything, all at once. I won't owe nobody nothing, and I can start fixing things again, for everyone.”

And perhaps her mother agreed, as the shadow that had gathered against her brow seemed to ease, relaxing back into something more serene.

Valerie smiled, running her thumb over the place where her face once was, pointedly ignoring the sensation of absence in favor of the smiling visage still shining across her display.

“See, I knew you'd see it my way.” Valerie was pretty sure she'd had to have gotten her sense of adventure from somewhere, after all. “It's hard, but I'm fine. And when this is all done, it'll be more than fine, it'll be better.

Just you wait.”

Overlay image: Session end.

The memory of Theresa Grey vanished slowly, victim of her daughter's own reluctance to see her go. But vanish she did, sunshine grew pale and laughter faded, memory crushed into data and erased of meaning, and Valerie was once again alone.

She sighed, finally allowing herself to lower the photograph as she reached over for her other parcels, which she began collecting into a small bundle atop her chest.

Technically, she could reach over to put her mother with her boots and rations instead of the other way around, but found herself suddenly disinclined to do so. Without the stress of the day to keep her going, she found exhaustion pushing down at her very bones, keeping her pressed against the meager comfort of her body warmed hollow of dirt.

No, lifting herself up as little as possible seemed a very enticing proposition indeed.

She grabbed both her boots, then her gloves, peeled off to reveal the same skintight leather which coated the rest of her, the remains of her wallet, and a single, battered bag, too smooth for leather, too thick for silk: All supplies from her earlier run in with the thieving insect from before, pared down to those goods and supplies she could actually use.

She chose not to dwell on how few of them there were.

Her mother came last, placed gently at the head of the pile, where she could look it over one last time.

She should have done this sooner, she knew, perhaps even the moment she entered the Zone. Keeping the photograph on her physical person was too much of a risk, one born of foolish sentiment and thoughtless desire. She had just wanted so badly to keep one good thing with her, somewhere tangible and real, she'd disregarded the threat she put it in.

Because if there was one thing death was guaranteed to do, it was steal everything and everyone it thought was yours.

Valerie placed her hands over the small collection, reaching once again into the inorganic hum prickling ever at the edges of her mind.

Unit_1 selected (Gen_Storage:)

Report

Status: Stable (20% full)

Contents (See details)

Intake request:

Intake selected? (Y/N)

>Yes

Processing…

A flick of her mental fingers, and it was done. Boots, bag, and all turned into their own kind of mist, dissolving into the small pocket dimension that followed her always, shadows diffusing into the surrounding light, the weight of them dissipating until nothing but the memory of their pressure remained.

Valerie brushed her fingers over the space they left behind, a half smile tugged at the corners of her trembling lips.

“Goodnight, Ma,” She whispered. A grief like seaglass hung heavy on her heart, smoothed over edges cut no longer, though the heft of its sorrow lay leaden even yet.

“Sleep good now, you hear?”

No voice answered in response.

Valerie no longer expected it to.

Deep in the realm of the dead, a figure turned on its side, curled against itself on its small outcropping of stone. Legs up to its chest, arms clenched tight around its shoulders as it heaved, breath by mortal breath, seeking some moment of repose.

[eryiss]

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Teen

Prompt: Two Bros Chilling in A Hot Tub/Lightning Struck

Summary: Freed knew he had a lot to learn about being a professional wizard, and when he was paired up with Laxus for a mission he expected to learn a lot. He didn't expect to spend a day with him in a hot tub, and he certainly didn't expect to get an entirely unrelated education about life and about love.

Notes: Hi everyone. Fraxus Week is at an end, and I really enjoyed writing everything this year. The AU's were a lot of fun and canon writing it always enjoyable, I hope you liked what I've written, and make sure to look at @fuckyeahfraxus to see everyone else has made.

Links: Chapter One ||| Event Masterlist ||| Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction

Chapter Two

Laxus was many things, but patient wasn't one of them. Honestly, it was miraculous he'd lasted a week before it had come to this.

He stormed into the apartment building that Freed lived in, walked to the address Makarov had given him, and slammed his hand against it three times; loudly. He was bouncing from foot to foot slightly, hearing the shifting of movements from behind the door as Freed walked towards it. He was taking his time, and Laxus felt the urge to slam his hand on the door again a few times to make him hurry the hell up.

For a week, Laxus had wanted to do this. He'd stopped himself for seven long, long days, but it was getting too much. Laxus couldn't go to sleep another night knowing that Freed was living twenty minutes away. That if the rune mage stopped with this shit, they could be repeating that kiss.

That fucking kiss!

He'd never been kissed like that. He doubted that anyone had been kissed like that. It had been so… so… The words couldn't come to Lauxs. It was all encompassing. Overwhelming. It was like standing in the centre of a thunder storm, letting the lightning burn across his skin and explode in his throat as he consumed it. Freed had been against him, attached to him, but battling him in a way Laxus couldn't understand.

Realistically, he knew it was for the mission, but he couldn't help but think there was more to the kiss. He'd caught a few of Freed's glances at his body – how Freed hadn't noticed Laxus doing the same thing was miraculous – and the reactions throughout the day seemed to suggest Freed had been just as affected as Laxus had.

But then the rune mage had just shut off. Any semblance of relaxation was gone the moment they pulled apart, and all Freed seemed capable of thinking of and speaking about was their mission. He spent the next hour avoiding Laxus, stating that they'd spent enough time together for plausibility and that it would be better to spread out. Laxus had agreed because he wasn't going to push things if Freed wanted to focus on his work then he could understand it, but for the rest of the afternoon he'd found his gaze drifting to him whenever his mind wandered. The press of the man's lips against his was like a haunting: inescapable and unforgettable. Laxus had wanted to storm over to the man, kiss him properly and say 'to hell' with the mission.

He'd never felt like this before. It was exhilarating.

But when the mission had ended, and Freed fell back on his habit of taking missions and spending no time in the guildhall, Laxus realised that Freed was avoiding him. Laxus was damn insulted by that.

Freed was into him, Laxus knew that, and he hoped that the passion with which he'd kissed Freed and the many times he'd lost focus because he was checking Freed out was enough for Freed to know the attraction was reciprocated. Freed didn't, for a second, seem to be a coward. Not about fighting and not about his own feelings, so why the hell was he avoiding Laxus? It took Laxus a full week of thinking over the situation for him to realise what was actually happening.

Laxus was an old hand at wizardry, and knew how to have a life outside of work. Freed didn't. Hell: when Laxus had reported the mission's success to Makarov, he'd asked the old man why he'd chosen Freed to spy on him, and he'd been told Freed needed to balance his work and life better, and Laxus was meant to help him.

So, as he stood at Freed's door, Laxus was going to do that.

The door opened, and Freed was revealed. He was wearing nothing but his white shirt, unbuttoned and sightly ruffled, and the trousers he'd worn during work. For a moment, Laxus allowed himself to relish in the sight off the man in a rumpled and domestic state, with his hair tied up high and his eyes still sleep worn because of the early morning. He shook his focus and met Freed's eyes.

"Laxus," Freed said with a frown. "What are you doing here?"

"Bored of this whole avoiding me shit," Laxus grunted, placing a hand on the wall to lean against it. "Pack a bag, we're going on a mission for the weekend."

"Excuse me?" Freed said, almost laughing. Laxus understood that – coming to the man's house unannounced and demanding his presence for a weekend was pretty arrogant – but he wasn't going to let that be an excuse. "What makes you think I'll do that simply because you tell me?"

"Because I haven't finished the paper work from that spa mission, and since I was meant to teach ya how to be a mage during the mission and it's not over, I have authority over you," Laxus grinned, knowing that Freed was not going to take that level of bullshit. He smirked when Freed went to argue back, and cut in before he could. "Besides, if you don't come with me, I won't be going on any missions with you, and all that S-Class money goes away. Wouldn't want that, huh?"

It was a dick move, but a means to an end. Freed glared at him, and that was all the agreement Laxus needed.

"Train station at nine AM," He informed Freed, turning, and walking down the hall. He spoke without looking back. "See ya there."

---

The train juddered to a stop, and Laxus felt his stomach settle almost instantly. He closes his eyes, swallowed down the small rising of bile that crept up his throat, and ignored the amused expression that Freed was looking at him with.

"Feeling a little sick, Laxus?" He taunted gently, and Laxus faux glared.

"Peachy," He grumbled.

Any lingering annoyance from earlier in the morning had gone when Freed had reached the train station. Laxus had brought him a coffee, bagel, and pastry as a peace offering. He'd been forceful about getting Freed to leave with him - he felt like it was necessary to kick Freed into action - but he couldn't have Freed pissed at him. If Laxus was right, and played his cards well, he might end up with Freed before the weekend was over. He wanted to do it properly.

"You look it," Freed taunted, taking his bag from the overhead rack and handing Laxus his rucksack. "May I know what the mission is now?"

"Not yet," Laxus dismissed the request.

They climbed off the train, and Laxus was thankful to be on solid ground again. The town they'd arrived in was a small one, tucked away high in the mountains; something that had not helped Laxus' motion sickness. He'd looked the town up on one of the guild's many maps before leaving, so knew exactly where to go and started following the roads without hesitation. Freed kept in step with him, clearly waiting for Laxus to offer some explanation.

He wouldn't get it. Laxus had spoken with Makarov about Freed once the mission had finished. The main thing he'd learned was that Freed needed to sort his shit out, because he was damn near hitting his limit. He also seemed like the kind of guy to refuse help, so Laxus was going to make sure he couldn't.

Once they got to the hotel, Laxus would confess. Until then, they were on a 'mission'.

"Could you at least tell me the type of mission?" Freed pushed the matter because the smartass needed to know everything. It was kinda funny seeing him getting pissy about it. "Eradication, interrogation, reconnaissance or escort?"

"You actually use those terms?" Laxus quirked an eyebrow as he chuckled, and subsequently walked into a wall of runes. He stumbled back, and rubbed his nose as he mumbled "You quick castes that? Damn."

"Why are we here Laxus," Freed insisted

"Who trained you how to cast, because that was impressive," Laxus ignored the question, walking forward when the wall dissipated. "You're gonna be a damn powerhouse in a few years."

"Answer the-" Freed cut himself off. "What do you mean 'going to be'?"

"You think you're powerful now?" Laxus taunted.

"I know that I am," Freed narrowed his eyes for a moment, before laughing at himself. "You're rather good at distracting people, aren't you? Perhaps you're smarter than I thought you'd be."

"You thought I'd be dumb?" Laxus asked.

"Yes," Freed said unflinchingly, and Laxus barked out a laugh.

"You should spend more time with the rest of the people in the guild," He smiled. "You're as much an asshole as the rest of 'em."

"How flattering," Freed said, voice droll. "You still haven't answered my question though. Why are we here?"

Laxus could see the hotel, and decided that it would be best to not push his luck with Freed. He thought about how he'd say it, and decided that he might as well jump into it rather than pissing around and avoiding the issue. Hell, if he couldn't be honest he'd be a damn hypocrite.

"I lied about the mission," He admitted, and Freed frowned. "We're here for a weekend break."

"A what?" Freed asked as if the concept was foreign to him. Given how much he worked, it might be.

"A weekend break. The place we did the mission for has a branch out here, and as a thank you for our work they gave up some coupons that we can use here," Laxus explained, reaching into his coat pocket, and pulling out the two tickets, handing one to Freed. "You clearly need a break from the work before you get sloppy on a mission and it ends up getting you hurt, and I'm not gonna turn down a free weekend in a luxury resort."

"And why didn't you tell me this from the beginning?" Freed demanded, clearly irritated.

"Because you wouldn't have come if you didn't think you'd make any money from it," Laxus shrugged as they walked into the lobby of the reception. "Like I said this morning, until the paper work's done, I'm meant to be teachin' you how to be a mage. Biggest obstacle for that right now is you not treating yourself right. Until you do it on your own, I'm gonna force you to do it."

They were at the front desk, and Laxus was speaking with the receptionist, before Freed could get a word in. Laxus made sure to confirm that both rooms would be required, and the receptionist assured him that their cleaning staff would have them prepared as quickly as they could, telling them both that they had access to all the amenities and facilities the resort had to offer in the meantime. Laxus thanked him, signed the book to confirm his booking, and stepped back to look at Freed. Again, he spoke before Freed had the chance.

"You don't need to live mission to mission anymore," His voice was softer now. "If you don't give yourself a break, you burn out. I'm sorry I lied, I'll make it up to you somehow, but enjoy this place while you're here. You put in a lot of effort since you joined the guild, treat this as your reward."

Freed looked like he wanted to argue, but halted. He sighed, ran a hand through his hair and nodded. "I would enjoy a break."

"I know," Laxus said bluntly, placing a hand on Freed's shoulder. "And when you're ready, we're gonna talk about what happened on the mission. Because I don't wanna forget it ever happened, or push past it, or do whatever it is you thought could happen when you were ignoring me."

"I wasn't-" Freed began, but Laxus stopped him.

"We'll talk later," He said softly, before grinning. "I'm gonna take a swim. You can come with me if you wanna ogle me again, but I think a massage would do you good. You look really tired, basically dead to the world."

Laxus was walking away with a grin before Freed could respond to the teasing, and when he came face to face with another runic wall, he simply laughed. His stomach did a little flip when he heard Freed laughing too.

---

"I'm ready to talk now," Freed said, and Laxus nodded.

It was the evening now, and the two men had spent the day in different parts of the resort. Sometimes apart, sometimes together, Laxus had underwent almost all of the treatments available, as well as spending a good few hours in the pool, sauna, and hot springs. He'd retreated to his room when the relaxation had brought on a bout of tiredness, and had been napping until Freed's knocking on the door woke him. He'd adorned a robe and answered it, feeling weirdly excited when he'd seen it was Freed.

He looked good. Obviously, he had made use of the facilities, as he looked well rested, without the stress marks that bordered his eyes, and was holding himself looser. His hair was damp and tied up high, perhaps from a recent shower, and Laxus again revelled in the sight of a domestic version of Freed Justine.

"Take a seat," Laxus said, motioning to the chair as he sat on the foot of the bed.

"Thank you," Freed said, voice relaxed and without fear. Good. "When you said we needed to talk, I assume you meant about the kiss."

"I did," Laxus agreed. "But before you start, I wanna say something. Give you a piece of advice about being a mage that it takes a lot of time for most people to get," Freed thought for a moment, but made a gesture for Laxus to continue. "When you become a mage, you give up your safety, your stability, and your time. Sometimes you don't know when you'll next be paid, and sometimes you don't know if you'll make it out of a mission alive. When you get into wizardry you have to change how you live, act fast and do what your gut's telling you. Your instincts aren't just important in the mission, they're important in your personal life too. Sometimes you just have to follow them."

"And this relates to the kiss how?"

"If you don't want to be with me, then go with that. Don't worry about offending me, or pissing me off, or me stopping the missions together, or anything. If that kiss was just for the missions, and I've misread things, then don't fuck around being polite. Rip the band aid off and tell me straight."

"And if you didn't misread things?"

Laxus grinned, leaning back slightly. "Then follow your instincts."

Freed did just that, by standing up, tipping Laxus chin upwards, and bringing him into another earth shatteringly perfect kiss. And this time, there was no doubt. The kiss was for him, and there would be many others.

---

Ten Years Later

Laxus groaned as he submerged himself into the bubbling warm water. It was late at night in the early spring, and the hot tub he submerged his body into was in beautifully warm contrast with the cold evening air around him. The feeling of half-healed injuries and tense muscles seemed to weep for the hot water, and he closed his eyes in relaxation.

He needed this. He'd needed it for weeks, and now it was finally happening.

Obviously, taking over as guild-master would lead to an adjustment in his life, and teething troubles had occurred. There were more responsibilities than he had expected, everything from paperwork to ensure the building was fixed every time one of the brats damaged it, to arguing with the local councilmembers about how the good that Fairy Tail did greatly outweighed the bad. Honestly, trying to explain that an idiotic fire mage had literally saved their lives multiple times and therefore had earned the right to blow up the occasional fountain or set fire to a random ornamental tree was not a fun task to take.

Admittedly, he didn't make life easier for himself. He insisted on taking at least one mission a week, something that almost everyone in the guild deemed to be idiotic. But he was only thirties, he was an incredibly strong mage, and couldn't simply just hang up his profession because he was in charge of the guild.

"You're back then?" Freed asked amusedly from the patio.

"Yeah," Laxus nodded, opening his eyes, and smiling at his husband. "Wanna join me?"

"Sure," Freed nodded, and made work on removing his clothes.

The hot tub was something they'd brought three years prior, two years after they'd brought their marital home. After the odd inclusion of spas at the start of their relationships, they'd become reliant on their facilities after a hard mission to relax and untense their bodies. When they'd moved, the distance from their house to the nearest spa had been too long, so they'd invested in a hot tub of their own and learned how to massage one another. The latter advancement in the relationship had been a fun, fun few weeks for them both.

Laxus grinned a little as he saw Freed remove his underwear, and he raised an eyebrow at the man. Freed noticed, laughed a little and playfully kicked the man's thigh as he climbed into the tub, sitting beside him. Laxus raised his arm slightly to wrap it around his shoulders, pulling him close.

"The mission went well, I assume?" Freed asked, idly playing with the surface of the water.

Laxus halted, before looking down at Freed and speaking slowly. "Was fine, no problems."

"No problems at all?" Freed probed.

"Not one."

"You are aware that you are my husband and Bickslow is one of my best friends," Freed continued playing with the water, voice equally annoyed and amused. It was a tone only Freed could manage. "And if my husband collapses in the middle of a fight due to exhaustion, my best friend is going to tell me."

"Fucking traitor," He muttered, before sighing and looking to Freed. "I'm fine. I'm back here, so no problem."

"Laxus, you passed out because you're overworking yourself," Freed chastised, placing a hand on Laxus' thigh and stroking it softly. "You can't keep doing this to yourself."

Laxus knew he couldn't, of course, but it wasn't that easy. "I know," He admitted, sighing. "But I just can't give up working as a mage, not yet. I always thought it'd be what I do, y'know. I thought I'd always be the guy who goes to a town, fixed their problems, burns through my magic, and that's all. And I knew that eventually it was gonna end, but, well, I've been a mage for twelve years. It went by too fucking quickly and it feels…" He thought for a moment. "Being a mage is all I have, and I don't wanna let myself slip if I ever need to fall back on it."

"I do understand that, Laxus," Freed sighed. "But as you are now, you're losing you're edge not because you've dropped the sword, but you've used it so much that it's starting to shatter."

"I get that," Laxus whispered, nodding. Freed hand clasped on his thigh and patted him. "I'll stop going on 'em, it's time. I know that."

"You don't need to stop altogether, I've no doubt your grandfather didn't when he was young," Freed smiled, resting his head on Laxus' shoulder. "Perhaps you take it down to one mission a month, maybe not always go on S-Class missions. Only allow yourself to take what you can handle with your new responsibilities, not what you were able to do ten years ago."

"You're right," Laxus nodded, pulling Freed closer and kissing him on the top of his head. "When d'you get so smart about this shit?"

"I had a good teacher," Freed chuckled.

It was almost ironic. Almost exactly ten years to the day, here they both were again. Sat together in a hot tub, side by side, one of them struggling with the responsibilities of their new life while the other tried to advise them on how to deal with it. Laxus could almost laugh at the cyclical nature of it, but was distracted when Freed's roaming hand slid up his stomach and his husband moved closer to him.

"You know," Freed began, voice a little naughty now. "If you ever need to burn off some energy, I could teach you a few techniques that have proven useful in the past."

"Oh really?" Laxus quirked a brow, hand roaming down Freed's back, stroking his spine.

"Indeed," Freed nodded. "I'm sure you'll become quite the addict though."

"I can risk that," Laxus smirked.

And when Freed shifted so he was straddling Laxus, the blonde grinned. He leant up and pulled Freed into a passionate, explosive, lightning-filled kiss. A kiss he would indulge in anytime, anyplace.

[thanksjro]

Dark Cybertron Chapter 11: The Word “Logic” Doesn’t Even Mean Anything Anymore

Our issue opens up with a flashback to establish some things.


Because despite the six literal issues of prelude, and all the ham-fisted exposition we’ve gotten throughout the “Dark Cybertron” event, we still don’t have all the information we need to understand what the hell’s happening.

I have a feeling this won’t quite cut the mustard, either.

Anyway, back during the events of MTMTE #1, when Rodimus was making his call to action to his fellow Cybertronians (and by “Cybertronians” I, of course, mean “Autobots”, because prejudice is a hard habit to kick, even for the best of us) Brainstorm was doing science on Hardhead. He was doing this science to make sure that the Dead Universe hadn’t killed him without him realizing. This is a very common issue in the world of IDW2005 Transformers, considering that zombies are a part of canon, so it’s just best to be sure. Nova Prime’s lifeless body sits in the corner like the world’s worst coffee table book.

This will take some explaining, because this is Phase One related.

In Spotlight: Sideswipe, Nova Prime beefed it, except he didn’t, because his “essence” returned to the Dead Universe. This is because he was chosen by the Dead Universe to enact its will on the other, much cooler, Not-Dead Universe. In short, he’s a weird robot zombie-ghost with a save point in the Dead Universe.

Brainstorm has his corpse in his lab to make sure this bastard is true and proper dead, or that the body he left behind is at least. That, in combination with Hardhead proving to be very much alive, means that today can be counted as a win for everyone! The “Alive-People-Counter” machine proves it!

…This is why we can’t have nice things.

Brainstorm being undead does have some precedence within the narrative, given what happened in MTMTE #3.

Though I can’t help but wonder what the guy’s been doing for the last year and a half, that he didn’t notice being dead, when his soul is a large, glowing orb with physical presence. I dunno, he just seems like the sort of guy to keep up to date on that sort of thing, if only for scientific purposes.

In the present day, in the beautiful city of Iacon, everything’s gone to shit, and Whirl’s gotten hot for some reason, as billions of Ammonites fall out of the sky.

Who friggin’ drew this-

I should’ve known.

Up on the Lost Light, Ultra Magnus is breaking out the fancy swears, as a… tornado, I guess, of Ammonites hits the underside of the ship. Bumblebee wants to evacuate the friggin’ planet- which, I don’t know if you know this, would be a little difficult to do, even with a ship the size of NYC. Unfortunately, that’s not gonna fly, however, because all the stars in the sky are blue-shifting.

Wikipedia tells me that this is probably a bad thing, and Perceptor agrees, calling it “the end of everything.”

Over in Shockwave’s Lair of Villainy and Magical Bullshit, everyone’s favorite purple science gremlin has stabbed a “time drive” into his chest. Galvatron is laying dead on the floor in the foreground, but this isn’t about him. Shockwave orders Jhiaxus to activate the time drive, I guess because he doesn’t have long enough arms to do it himself. Jhiaxus warns Shockwave to be mindful, lest he lose himself in time, and then we get a return to a Roberts writing staple that we haven’t seen in quite a while.

Waxing poetic on the nature of time- this time, in a visual medium!

Awful lot of fixating on your ritualistic amputations there, Shocky-boy. I suppose this is ONE way to try to cope with a lack of control in your life.

Of course, to those on the outside of Shockwave’s brain, this doesn’t look nearly as impressive- it actually just looks like him screaming really loud at the ceiling. Bludgeon isn’t sure that this course of action is a healthy one to take, but Jhiaxus is too busy being sapiosexual to worry about that.

I-

Sure. I’m not even going to bother trying to understand this anymore.

Jhiaxus orders Monstructor to go keep the Autobots away from Shockwave.

Also, Galvatron isn’t dead. Good for him, I guess.

Over inside Metroplex, Windblade’s face seems to be stuck in the generic “I am a nice, nonthreatening female character who is also pretty” position, as Ultra Magnus tells her that the universe is ending. Chromia watches in the background as this happens, likely wondering if being relevant in modern media again is worth this bullshit.

Hearing that Bumblebee plans to take the fight to Shockwave is enough to get Metroplex back on his feet, which is good, because I don’t think we have a lot of time to convince the guy to do anything- this event ends next issue.

As Metroplex windmills his arms through swarms of Ammonites, the Lost Light lands, and Bumblebee, Megatron, and all their experts disembark. Bumblebee makes an unsolicited comment about Megatron’s body. They go to meet Soundwave, who isn’t terribly thrilled with Megatron having become all buddy-buddy with Bumblebee. Megatron mentions that the Decepticons are going to have to rethink their strategy once this is all over, with the implication being that they’re going to- gasp- work together with the Autobots.

Then Starscream shows up with Metalhawk, Skywarp, Rattrap, Waspinator, and Scoop for some fucking reason, in tow. Skywarp is going to teleport everyone into Shockwave’s Bastardization of the Concept of Science House, even though he pretty clearly isn’t feeling too well. What a guy.

Starscream and Megatron have a bit of banter that won’t set your hair on end with how awful they are to one another, Metalhawk tries to apologize for attempting to kill Bumblebee, and we really don’t have time for this shit right now. The narrative knows this, because it shifts to focus on Prowl and the Constructicons. Things are looking real rough just about everywhere, and it’s coming down to the wire, so they gotta do the thing.

The thing Prowl really doesn’t want to do.

The thing he said that he wouldn’t do again.

So anyway, they form Devastator.

As Monstructor gets ready to get punched in the face by a bunch of construction workers and a cop, everyone down below is firing off laser blasts and gearing up for a teleporting adventure. However, there’s a small problem- there are too many people to teleport! Oh no! The only solution is for Soundwave and his cassettes, Scoop, Getaway and-

Excuse me, Hook?

Hook, my dude? What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You’re supposed to be a leg right now, motherfucker, why are you here? GO HOME, HOOK.

Anyway, I’m really glad we wasted the time establishing that Soundwave and his band of merry little men were coming along on this trip, only for them to not come along after all. Love that shit.

I don’t actually love that shit. I’m sorry for lying.

With the load lightened, Skywarp teleports the rest of the gang to where they need to be, and Waspinator is immediately stabbed with a massive raging poisoning sword of doom. Bludgeon’s here to greet everyone, and Metalhawk is gonna try his damnedest to get the guy to come around to their side.

You remember when Metalhawk did things like connive, and scheme, and actually had more depth than a sidewalk puddle? Because I remember. Now he’s just... Beast Wars Silverbolt, but he’s not even attempting to be charming. I bet he wouldn’t even call his evil girlfriend “my soul’s delight.” Lame.

Bumblebee, Megatron, and friends book it for Shockwave, while Magnus and Skids get ready to kick some ass. Brainstorm isn’t feeling so hot, but this isn’t about him.

Starscream is having a minor crisis over the fact that Scoop stayed behind in a literal war zone for Starscream’s sake. I dunno that he did it specifically for Starscream, but Starscream seems pretty convinced that he did, and who am I to argue with the leader of a whole friggin’ planet?

The gang makes it to Jhiaxus’ ship, where they find-

I swear to god, if there’s not a fucking explanation for what the shit is happening right here I’m going to scream.

…So anyway, Metalhawk and Jhiaxus start beating each other up, Starscream gets bent out of shape by Jhiaxus’ trash talk, and we get an explanation for his new look.

Which, y’know, thank fucking god.

Jhiaxus has new reactive armor, which takes anything thrown at him and adapts it to his own body for personal use, which feels like some Grade-A Kids Playing Pretend bullshit, but WHATEVER.

While this is going on, Megatron and Bumblebee have run into the center of Shockwave’s Laboratory of Morally-Abhorrent Mystical Buffoonery Masquerading as the Scientific Method. Dreadwing tries to make a case for self-defense of his property, but unfortunately he doesn’t understand how property rights work, and gets blasted for his troubles. Galvatron reveals himself to be alive to Megatron, who immediately grabs the dude by the throat.

Galvatron’s feeling pretty down about having inadvertently helped end the universe, and is throwing himself a little pity party. Megatron’s not having it, however, tossing the man into the ground and revving up to fusion-cannon him to death. Bumblebee stops him, for some reason, and then starts rambling, I guess STILL trying to be Optimus Prime 2.0.

Bumblebee, you put bombs in people’s heads to make them fall into line. You don’t get to talk to Captain Warlord about moral nuance. And weren’t you also berating Metalhawk for trying this same thing not five minutes ago?

Bumblebee’s words reach Megatron, and instead of annihilating Galvatron, he offers the dude a hand up.

Then Bumblebee gets shot and dies, while Shockwave just… stares menacingly, I guess.

Cool.

The death of his very best friend in the whole wide world sends Megatron into a rage, and he punches Shockwave in the face. This doesn’t really faze him much though, as he bats Megatron across the fucking room like he’s made of papier-mâché and dreams, going on about how the universe will save Cybertron by being its power source “in an endless forever.”

Shockwave, you’re a man of science. You ought to know that “forever” as a concept, doesn’t fucking WORK scientifically. It’s nonsense. You’re nonsense, and I hate you.

Back with the Bludgeon Ass-Kicking Squad, Brainstorm’s having a bad time, while everyone else sort of awkwardly poses. Skids gets stabbed. Skids falls down. Brainstorm falls down. Ultra Magnus is concerned, but he’s too busy not being stabbed to help anyone.

Brainstorm’s in a lot of pain, and then a hand bursts out of his chest and-

GODDAMMIT JAMES.

Fucking- Team -Imus burst out of the Dead Universe from Brainstorm, who I will remind you, is undead thanks to Dead Universe lightning bullshit, making him a link between it and the much cooler Not-Dead Universe. Everyone is posing, even Cyclonus, who absolutely should think that sort of thing is beneath him, but whatever.

That’s the end of the issue. Go home.

[jokertrap-ran]

[Drama CD]   AGF’19  Uta No Prince Sama: Sweets Vampire ~Key towards your heart~ Side: Kotobuki Reiji

Company: Broccoli CV: Morikubo Shoutaro ( 森久保 祥太郎 )

*Commissioned by @utapriciation, Thank you! *Spoiler free: Translations under cut

Commissions are still open!

A place where only the chosen can tread upon; a forbidden mansion. The enthralling scent of sweet chocolate and freshly baked confectioneries drifts in the air, enticing and ensnaring the poor souls that dare step foot into the mansion.

And sleeping within the tightly enclosed chocolate coffins…

Were none other than Vampires. Eternal, immortal, immaculate and seeking love forevermore. The only things that can awaken these slumbering being are a secret key and your sweet, delicious love.

And that key, is proof that you’ve entered a contract with one of the dwelling vampires in the mansion. Such an innocent and pure love you bring; so much power. Thus, the vampire will wait upon you. In exchange for the immense power they gain in return.

Now…

Use that burning passion of yours to melt these glacial icy hearts that never beat…

For a sought after, never-ending, immortally eternal love. I wonder if you know how long I’ve waited for such a moment to come. You’re the main character from the moment that key landed in your hand.

Sweets Vampire: Key to melt your heart

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ༻ ✩ ༺ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Mnngh…? Just a little...Let me sleep for a while more. Let me slumber till later in the da- no, I suppose it should be early in the day now. I’ve been up writing all day long. It’s still early in the night so I can still have the excuse of laying back a little easier, right? Besides, I don’t think it’s ethical for you to be coming all the way here without informing anyone beforehand. Even I have conveniences to meet, despite how I look, I’m actually quite the busy person.

There’s no need for you to apologize that much. Everyone makes mistakes. How about this then; My head hurts from the lack of sleep so could you rub it gently for me? Treat it as an apology of sorts, if you have to.

Is this the first time you’re meeting a vampire? You don’t have to be that terrified. Look, see? I’m not that different from a human now, am I? How nice. You might have a knack for massaging heads. There; you’re finally smiling. That suits you much better. Here, come closer so that you’ll be able to reach better with your massage. Heh, caught you. See? I lied about my head hurting. I mean, look. I’m a vampire, so there’s no way I could ever be suffering from sleep deprivation. I’m dead, after all. See? My heart doesn’t beat now, does it? You already know that and you want me to release my hold on you? Nope. I wish to stay close to you for a bit longer.

Yeah. Huh, I can’t believe this excuse actually works. Your innocence and naiveness is an attractive feature in and off itself but this means that you’re an easy target for trickery...and that’s not very good...I’ll be very worried in the future so I’ll educate you well. You can’t ever go onto a guy’s bed as unguarded as you are now, okay? Because someone like you will only be gobbled right up. Just joking~ Did you think I’d actually kiss you on the lips? I’m a gentleman so I’ll settle for doing it on your forehead. Well, I can understand why you’d fall for that though. I used to be an actor in the past. So this means that I’ve yet to lose my acting prowess. Hm? You want to hear more about my past? Wow, you’re really brimming with curiosity when it comes to me, huh.

Sure. I’ll tell you everything; until you eventually get bored of it.

Just like I told you before, I was an actor before I became a vampire. I was part of a theatrical troupe, writing stories to entertain the folks and those of higher class. Stories about affection and love were the hot favourites. Things like gossip, maybe. I’m sharp, so I pick up on these things easily. Plus, there’s no end to it on the streets so I had plenty of references to work with. However, somewhere along the way, I felt an emptiness in my heart. I write to support myself, so I have to be aware of what the recruiters would want to see. I’d write what they’d want and not what I, myself, wanted. So I was troubled for quite a while, thinking if the works I made were actually things that I personally wanted to write. And then came a genius, who eventually became my rival while I was still conflicting with myself. I was in a hurry, panicking about the new rival. So I made a story, one with a hint of spice, based off a real incident. Something different from the rest of my works up till now. Something taboo. And then...Somebody poisoned me. Alas, that’s how I came to be standing here right now. I guess I dug my own grave since I used the story of someone else as a stepping stone to elevate myself from the masses in a fit of wild panic.

While I might have used unorthodox methods back then, I learnt one thing from that fatal experience of mine. Vampires aren’t the scary ones in the world; it’s humans that you have to be afraid of. Because just a little of anything, a small misstep; and they’d kill you off without batting an eyelid. But!! That might be what makes humans so alluring. All that power they hold in their hands, one that can end another’s life despite what a small minute existence they are. Now, I wonder how far that story has traveled after my death. Perhaps it may be still alive, moving around the streets through word of mouth. Maybe more popular, now that I’m no longer a part of the living. I guess that might just be what amounts to the stage equipment in a play since the world’s just like one gigantic stage in my eyes.

Who killed me? Was it me? Was it a Sparrow? Or was it someone, who noticed me and eventually grew to despise me? Now, here’s a story. You can only count how many there might be that arises. This story is one where people who have died turn into vampires and are revived as such. Those who still hold onto the strings of feelings so strong that they’re able to return to the land of the living. Different, but amongst them. And now, with how I am right now! I can write and research anything I wish, freely. I’ve been writing, just as I have been before I died. It’s a life that I could only dream of before. And what colours my life now...That’d be Tokiya and Syo. They were turned into vampires way after me, but they’re an interesting duo, those two. Tokiya was a doctor before he turned. A genius, researching immortality. If he lived a little longer...his research might have been stolen by others. But I don’t know what happened now that he’s firmly out of the picture. Syo’s his friend. He’s still as bright and honest as ever, despite having turned. Now, if only I was like that. I’d probably be going down a different path in life and I probably wouldn’t have been poisoned to death either.

In exchange for pulling a few strings here to allow them to live in this manor, they exchanged their life stories for a roof over their heads. And now I’m free to use their stories to make my own. Although it’s a little hard to swallow because you’re writing stories about how pitiful the lives of others are. Tokiya even brought up how he wasn’t such a chatterbox. And Syo got mad real quick and yelled about how I shouldn’t be writing him off as a midget.

Although I personally think that’s only but the truth, but that might be why they’re in denial in the end. It’s still a happy incident, though. Freedom after death. Everyone can enjoy the stories of anybody to their heart’s content with no fear of any drawbacks whatsoever. 

Ah...Sorry, this conversation went on a little longer than expected. Let’s end the small talk here and get to the real topic at hand. What I actually want to talk about right now is our story. This new story of ours that is about to unfold. It might be too early, but how about one of love and romance with a little flair of the dramatic? It’s up to you to decide how this story turns out in the end. With you as the master and how this romance with the underling blooms. How about we start it off like this? It was love at first sight. Me, the underling who’s subjugated under the master, wakes up to see a cute, lovely girl. And she wasn’t just cute but she was innocent as well. Those bright sparkling eyes that’d look at me as she’d hear everything that I have to say. The owner of a beautiful heart. I wonder how I can make someone so lovely fall for me. Even though I want to treasure you and treat you as the treasure you’re supposed to me, there’s a part of me, somewhere within. Something greedy and ugly that wants to take you all for myself. Even though I’m normally smooth around others, I just don’t know what to do with myself when I’m around you. I’m no good, aren’t I?

That’s not the case at all? Really? No lying. You just, can’t. Even if you’re trying to be nice. Haha. You don’t have to deny so vehemently, I get it. I know fully well that you mean it. Besides, the sound of my heartbeat is drowning out everything else when you gaze at me like that. You’re just as lovely and nice as I thought you were. I can never win against something like that. Even if I try to shy away, you’d just open more doors into more possibilities. Heh, that’s right. I can’t just be hiding and running away from everything. I have to throw away this veil of lies and deceit and show you the real me that’s hiding behind this facade that I created. That’s right, I’m not the one that needs this veil right now. Perhaps you’re the one that requires it most. This veil, set atop your head, whit and flowy. And then a profession of love that’s not far behind. Ah, yes. The end of this story will be nothing short of a happy ending. Clapping’s forbidden, though. How strange for me to be this muddled when it comes to you. So much that my mind blanks out and I can’t think of anything else. I never knew that it was such a wonderful feeling to be able to trust someone from the very bottom of my heart like this.

I think the final and last part of this story has already been set in stone. And so, the duo shared a hot passionate kiss and lived on happily forever. Now, here’s the kiss to seal it all. I love you.

[turtletotem]

If he wanted you, he'd ask for you

A/B/O fic for Cherik Week! Set post-XMA, or... almost-post-XMA. A little over 2k words.

Erik thought things had been going well.

He, Charles, Jean, and a team of architects were elbow-deep in plans to rebuild the mansion, with certain enhancements; it would all happen very quickly once it began, but had to be planned down to the centimeter, first. All the students who could be sent home safely had gone; the remainder, along with Charles and Erik themselves and a smattering of other adults, were staying in a camp of startlingly luxurious tents down the hill from the mansion site, alpha and omega students kept separate by the larger section of betas in the middle. No one had commented on Erik and Charles sharing a tent; everyone was sharing with someone, and if Hank McCoy had muttered something under his breath about keeping enemies closer, Erik had chosen not to hear it. He knew he had plenty to make up for.

But he was making up for it, he thought, in some small way. Helping with the students, helping with the mansion, helping Charles. It wouldn't bring back the entire city of Cairo, but nothing else would, either, including his death. Those were Charles's exact words, over a chessboard in the privacy of their tent, when they talked about the diplomatic efforts Charles was making on his behalf, and the scars inside Erik's mind where Apocalypse had used some form of persuasion power to steer Erik, Storm and the other horsemen in the direction he wanted them to go.

Erik had thought that too much had happened between them for him and Charles to ever return to the easiness, the deep understanding and connection they had once had, before everything went wrong. Instead, he was shocked speechless sometimes by how much of it was still there—and how much more of it he could feel waiting, behind scars and defensive walls, inaccessible now but still there, if they could find a way to bring it out of hiding again. They slept in their separate beds on opposite sides of the tent, but small touches were beginning to reappear—fingers that brushed as they passed a dish, hands clapping shoulders to celebrate a good joke or small breakthrough. Three days ago, Erik had dared to swipe his palm across the newly bald expanse of Charles's head and call him Professor Eggsavier. Charles had laughed and pushed him off, letting their hands linger together.

The next day, Charles moved into another tent, alone.

He hadn't explained it beyond a casual mention that they had a spare now that the Letson twins had gone home after all. He hadn't reacted to Erik's surely visible dismay and hurt, had acted like he didn't hear his stammered questions. He had simply disappeared into the other tent, and not come out since.

"You don't think someone should check on him?" Erik demanded, at the little outdoor kiosk that mostly served as Hank's office.

"He's fine." Hank sounded baffled by Erik's anxiety. "He's keeping in touch," he gestured at his temple, "any time I need him. He just wants a day or two to himself. Heaven knows he's earned it."

"Of course he's earned it, but you don't think it's out of character? He's not the kind of man that just takes a day or two to himself, he's always up to his eyebrows in everything that's going on—"

"What would you know about it?" Hank said irritably. "When have you ever been in his life for more than a month at a time? Leave him alone, Erik. If he wanted you he'd ask for you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to get done."

Talking to Raven was just as frustrating.

"Let me get this straight," she said, barely looking up from the math tests she was grading, because somehow lessons had to go on. "The man you've nearly killed multiple times, who is putting his neck all the way out trying to get you pardoned by multiple governments for the unforgivable shit you did in fact do, and that we can't prove Apocalypse manipulated you into doing—this guy has made himself somewhat less accessible to you, and you consider that some kind of emergency?"

"He's not 'somewhat less accessible,'" Erik snapped, "he's basically disappeared! He hasn't come out of that tent in three days now, not for anyone or anything. Not for Storm's nightmare, not for Carlo's broken arm, not for a potentially disastrous supply problem with the construction—"

"You make it sound like he's ignoring everyone! We've heard from him whenever we needed to." Telepathically, she meant. And they had, everyone had. Except Erik. Erik hadn't heard a word. "Leave him alone," Raven said, pinning him with a gold-eyed glare. "He'll come out when he's ready. You're the last person in the world who should push him."

She was probably right. But Erik was an old hand at ignoring good advice.

The fourth night, he dreamed that Charles was calling for him, calling for help. When he woke, there was nothing—no psychic echo, nothing—to indicate that it was anything but his own dream. He got out of bed anyway, and slipped through the camp to Charles's tent.

He felt resistance as he approached, a telepathic shield trying to turn him away. But Erik was too accustomed to the feel of Charles's telepathy; he wouldn't say he was immune to it, but he had the ability to question it, counter it. He clenched his teeth and pressed forward, into the tent.

It was silent inside. Erik stood still, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness, more complete here than out under the stars. Nothing seemed strange or out of place; the tent held all of Charles's expected belongings, his wheelchair waiting by the bed where Charles lay still and peaceful.

Too peaceful. Too still. Absolutely nothing unexpected. And telepathy was still buzzing at the edges of Erik's mind.

"You're altering my perceptions," Erik said. "Stop it. I don't know what you're hiding, but I'm not leaving until I find out."

"I could make you leave." Charles's voice, his physical voice, hoarse and strained; so the image of him asleep in the bed was definitely an illusion.

"Do it, then," Erik said, and waited.

After a moment, he heard a sigh—half-agonized, half-relieved—and the illusion melted away.

The tent was a shambles, Charles's books and papers randomly piled if they weren't thrown around the floor. The bed was a mess of tangled sheets, Charles sitting up against the headboard with his face flushed and chest heaving, and everything was heavy with the smell of—

"You're an omega," Erik breathed, staggering back against the wall of the tent.

He had never once considered that Charles might be an omega—and wasn't that strange in and of itself? Charles clearly wasn't an alpha like Erik himself, but Erik had always assumed he was a beta; betas were more than twice as common as either alphas or omegas, and his scent had never hinted at anything else. It wasn't as if Erik really cared. His feelings for Charles would have been the same, beta or omega or fellow alpha, and anyone who wanted to argue about it could meet the sharpened point of Erik's favorite paperclip. It didn't matter, but—some deep instinctive alpha part of Erik was thrilled beyond words, was already thinking about things like bonding and scenting and children, they could have children—

"I once hoped that my paralysis might at least mean being spared this," Charles said, panting and dashing sweat irritably from his eyes, "but it only makes it harder to ever—be satisfied."

"You're in heat."

"Yes, thank you, I am an omega in heat," Charles snapped, "do you have any other obvious facts to share with the class?"

"Why did you hide it? You've hidden it all this time—or do the others know?" They'd been so unconcerned with his withdrawal into solitude…

"Only Raven," Charles said. "I keep the rest from suspecting…" He tapped his temple. "As for why I hide it, I think you have enough of a brain to speculate."

"There are certain disadvantages, yes," Erik said slowly, stepping closer almost involuntarily, "but to go to these lengths…?" It had been hundreds of years since omegas were treated as chattel, decades since they faced serious prejudice. One might still encounter the occasional tasteless joke or even raging bigot, but that hardly seemed like enough to make an out-and-proud mutant live a lie.

"These lengths," Charles said bitterly, "ensure that no one tries to take advantage of my heat. No one can abuse what they don't realize exists."

Erik stopped, only a few steps away from the bed now. Charles's scent, sweet and smoky, was intoxicating—but his words had a dampening effect on any desire Erik felt. "Take advantage," he repeated. "Charles, who took advantage of you?"

Charles didn't answer, not aloud, but images flickered in Erik's mind of a stocky, brutish young man with greedy eyes. Erik had never seen him, but if it was who he suspected, Charles had once described that young man as having a mind that had never once thought of anyone but himself, in all his life.

"Your stepbrother," Erik said.

"He was an alpha," Charles whispered. "He knew what I was before I did. Only my powers kept him away—mostly. Usually."

"So you learned your only safety was in hiding." Erik didn't realize he had come closer again until he saw his own fingers trail across Charles's hand. He tried to pull back, but Charles caught his hand, held it tightly. His skin was fever-hot, and Erik's body wanted desperately to answer that fever with his own. He swallowed, forcing himself to stillness.

It was still incredible to him that he'd never known this. He'd shared Charles's bed for weeks, before Cuba—but an omega experienced heat only two to four times a year. Luck, good or ill, had kept Charles out of heat during that time, and during their brief reunion in Paris a decade later. His scent should still have given it away, but Charles was uniquely situated to disguise that, not in physical fact but in everyone's perceptions of it.

"So you've never had anyone," Erik said, "to help you through a heat? No one?"

"No."

"That sounds miserable."

"It is." Charles laughed blackly, writhing half-consciously against the headboard. He was, of course, naked—Erik couldn't imagine his skin tolerating clothing right now—and in a state of arousal intense enough to make Erik wince even as the sight made his mouth go dry. How much could Charles feel, there, now? He knew Charles did have some little sensation in that area, and with the increased sensitivity of heat…

"You're staring," Charles said.

Erik forced his eyes away. "Yes. I'm staring because you're beautiful."

"Beautiful? This is beautiful?" He had never sounded more bitter and broken, not even in the plane on the way to Paris.

"It could be." Erik looked down at their joined hands, where his thumb was stroking the back of Charles's hand, gentle as breath. "You have someone to help you now. If you want me."

"If I want you? You could be anyone right now and I'd want you! You understand that, don't you? Of course I want you, someone, anyone—but I can't trust anyone—"

"I can't do anything to you that you don't want," Erik said, tapping his own temple. "Everything's in your hands, Charles. You can even wipe my memory afterward. You could even wipe my memory right now, send me back to my bed with no idea this conversation ever happened."

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't."

Because you took my hand. It was too delicate to say aloud; Erik knew Charles would hear him regardless. You let me see the truth, and you let me take your hand.

Charles pulled him down and kissed him.

 In the morning, Erik woke sore and exhausted and contented down to his bones, at peace in a way he couldn't remember ever feeling before. The windows in Charles's tent were tied shut, but sunlight peeked around their edges and glowed faintly through the material of the tent itself, giving the space a sepia haze of morning. Charles was breathing slow and even, nestled against Erik's chest. His heat had peaked and broken, sometime during the frantic passion of the night. Charles had been overwhelmed enough to cry with sheer relief. That had never happened before, apparently; he'd always had to endure days of the heat slowly withering and trailing off, unsatisfied.

Thinking of it, Erik couldn't help tightening his arms around Charles and brushing a kiss against the crown of his head. He hated that Charles had suffered so much, so unnecessarily. Hated that he might suffer just as much again, next time, without Erik…

"That's up to you, love," Charles said sleepily, and Erik looked down in surprise.

"What?"

"Whether you're here next time," Charles said. "That's up to you."

"You're not going to wipe my memory and send me away?"

Charles snorted. "I don't think it would work now even if I wanted to. Or haven't you noticed we're bonded?"

"Is that what that is?" He could feel it now, the subliminal hum between them, the way their scents mingled together, the deep rightness of Charles's skin against his. Bonding wasn't the be-all and end-all that the poets tried to paint it as, Erik had known that for years. But… everyone agreed it was nice. If this was what it was, it felt nice.

"Look at that smile," Charles murmured, tracing fingertips over Erik's mouth. "I wasn't sure I'd ever see that smile again."

"You can see it anytime you want," Erik said, and drew him in for another kiss.

[thehoardofthegreatdragon]

Urahara Kisuke: "Come on baby, I know the law" But Actually Illegal

Hello and welcome to Coco has Too Many Feelings Hour. Today, it’s a character analysis of Urahara Kisuke because what gave him the fucking right to be so cool? WHAT GAVE HIM THE RIGHT?

Anyway. This is going to be half based on his dialogue, and half based on general action patterns, since both are damn interesting. There will be spoilers for most things but I’ll try to keep things after the Aizen arc vague. Also, it should go without saying that this is all my interpretation and very biased (extra biased because I Love Him). 

[AKA: This is like, just my opinion, man.]

Now before we begin can we just pause to appreciate how beautiful he is? If you haven’t, stare at this picture for at least a minute. Go on, I’ll time you. 

Now we can move on. 

Kisuke is, in a word, complicated. If I had to describe him (and considering that’s the point of this entire goddamn document, I better try), I’d say he’s a man with unstoppable curiosity and a heart that is far too soft to handle the fallout of his own invention. 

No matter where you put him, no matter what time he’s born into, he will create a weapon he shouldn’t have. He has this strange bit of naïveté about his science at first, but it fades as he sees what his science has done to people he cares for. He has a good heart-- a soft heart, under it all-- so he can’t just accept the damage he’s done and move on. He turns that genius to invention, so that he can fix the things he broke. He wants to help everyone he can, because he hurt so many. 

But that doesn’t ever make the guilt go away, and it doesn’t stop him from using people when he has to— we see this happen with Ichigo in the Soul Society invasion arc. Kisuke uses him to achieve his goals, but he is far from happy about it and apologizes afterwards. 

Alright, into the meat of his character. I’m going to skim over the fact that he is arguably one of the strongest characters in the entire show, a man who plans for every eventuality compulsively because he understands that people die in battle (people die when they are killed), and so intelligent that he was one of the few people Aizen actually was wary of. I’m skimming it, because otherwise this already too long essay would be three times as long and wax rhapsodic about every way that he is, in fact, an incredible badass. 

[IM SKIPPING IT FOR ALL OUR SAKES OKAY.] 

He will and does help people, but he’s very guarded. It makes a terrible kind of sense, because he worked in the Omnitsukidō, and I don’t think anyone can come out of a spy and assassination agency without some jadedness. The exile doesn’t help either, because now he’s been forced to deal with the fallout from a betrayal and the loss of his home too. 

That being said, the exile also made him more of his own man. Freer, in many ways. More able to be the eccentric self he wants to, better adapted to life, more likely to see how people could use him and less likely to let it happen. I think the living world suits him in a way that Soul Society never really did. 

At his core he's a good person, but he built walls upon walls around himself. And those walls never come down, and some of them are mirrors, and some of them are smokescreens that don’t look like walls, because he can never be simple and he doesn’t want to be understood. And even if someone does see part of who he is, he wants them to only see that particular part. 

He is an eccentric free spirit whose drive for invention cost him more dearly than anything else. His will to create, his truest self— the scientist, with inventions to make and the world to explore— started a war. It ruined the lives of people he wanted to be friends, and people who were friends. 

And as a scientist, that’s the greatest blow of all. It’s like Oppenheimer and the atomic bomb. He created a weapon he couldn’t control, but he did it with something he loved with his whole heart. It hurts twice as deeply, when it comes from love. 

He’s also a follower more than a leader. Kisuke is the support type, for all his fighting skill— he’s ready with backup plans and transportation and research, but he needs a person to follow into battle. For a long time that was Yoruichi. Then he stood on his own as a captain, but the way he did it was by structuring his division into a support division rather than a truly fighting one (his own way of coping with new leadership, imo. He turned the 12th into the division he wanted it to be, rather than really learning how to lead a fighting division). 

Then he had to stand on his own, in exile, and he did. I imagine this was mostly fueled by guilt and determination, because he had to fix the mess he had helped create and defeat Aizen. But even still, he still kept to the shadows and planned Aizen’s downfall, rather than stepping on the battlefield and doing it himself (for many reasons, of course— Aizen was still in Soul Society’s good graces and it would have been suicide, Kisuke is not a foolish man who would throw away the best chance at success for a fight). 

And at last, he chose Ichigo to follow. But this is doubly interesting because at first he is uses Ichigo to achieve his goals. Supposedly, Kisuke himself couldn’t have gone to Soul Society to rescue Rukia (because of the exile, though let’s face it Kubo’s world building doesn’t explain how Yoruichi could go so who really knows. And Kisuke being Kisuke, would have found a way into Soul Society if he thought it would help their fight against Aizen. Anyone who doesn’t believe that can see the TYBW arc and Fight Me). 

But there were many people who had a better chance of going in his stead, and many ways to save Rukia that didn’t involve a straightforward invasion. This is not to mention that Kisuke used Rukia too, with the intention of forcing Aizen’s hand. 

So when Ichigo and Kisuke first meet, he views Ichigo as a tool (and a person, because he’s a good man and never free of the guilt).  

But with each battle, we see how Kisuke trusts Ichigo more and more. This progression continues until the last battle with Aizen, and then after that Kisuke stands behind Ichigo with absolutely no hesitation. Throughout the last arc, throughout the remainder of the manga, when Ichigo needed him, Kisuke was there— with supplies, with research, with a path to Hueco Mundo, hell even with a path to the big palace up in the sky. And Kisuke trusted Ichigo absolutely— see the panel where Ichigo asks Kisuke to hold out until he gets there, and everything will be alright because Ichigo will handle it. And Kisuke’s response to that is just a smile and a single word— “Understood.” 

The trust between them is absolute. This is surprising, if you think of how few people Kisuke has really trusted over the years, and how few he trusts to this extent. 

[It’s also very interesting that of all the people Ichigo choses to tell to “wait for me,” it’s Kisuke but that’s just my loyalty kink showing up don’t mind me.]

Once the guilt of using him was gone, Kisuke could follow the leader he’d chosen. And he did, endlessly. 

On that note, Kisuke’s dialogue choice with Ichigo develops in a very interesting way. In the beginning its challenging and on the ruthless side (“don’t use her as an excuse to kill yourself,” for example), into something much more trusting and less challenging (the “understood” for instance, or the “what would you like me to do” ). This evolution tracks with the evolution of Kisuke’s changing attitude towards Ichigo. 

We move from Kisuke only promising to help when he extracts something in return (“Do you really think, there is no way to get to Soul Society? I’ll tell you, on one condition.”) to Kisuke offering to help Ichigo before being asked (“My my, you guys sure are having an interesting conversation. So, this Hueco Mundo trip. Shall I arrange it?”).

[Imagine how much literally anyone else would pay to have a scientist of Kisuke’s caliber basically on retainer. And Ichigo gets it for the low low price of absolutely free.]

All this is to say, that I think that Kisuke can and is always ready for any eventuality but that it’s only after his trust is earned by Ichigo that he gives his plans so easily to other people. He has chosen a king, so to speak. 

[Don’t call out my power kink or I will personally end you.]

Moving on to dialogue in general, we see many damn interesting patterns. Perhaps intentionally, Kisuke's a bit on a different wavelength, and no one expects the answers he gives to any questions. Its eccentricity, but honed into a weapon and very self-aware. He often interprets questions in different ways than expected, like he’s purposefully setting people off guard. 

Consider the following response he gives to an enemy in later chapters (TYBW arc): 

“Asking me such a personal question, is really more of a second date thing.”

He’s never met this person before in his life, and his response is to just, straight up flirt. THIS IS FLIRTING. KISUKE. WHY ARE YOU FLIRTING. HE’S NOT EVEN HOT. 

Anyway. In general, Kisuke has two broad categories of speech patterns: completely serious and teasing-playful-fake-humble.  Unlike many other characters who use a baiting tone and words against enemies (Frankenstein from Noblesse comes to mind as an example), Kisuke uses them on friends and enemies alike. And his tone isn’t really mocking but fake-humble and fake-playful.

Examples of this—

“Oh? You know of me. What an honor.” (Said behind fan)

“It’s wedged in their rather fatally, Yoruichi-san!” (Said to Yoruichi’s ass)

[Seriously, who does this asshole think he is? Yoruichi kicks him and I’m glad she does.]

He's very often cheerful, and usually smiling as he speaks. I’d say his eyes are the biggest giveaway to his emotion because they dont really ever soften. (And because Kubo has a Thing for drawing them covered in shadows and looking badass, see Exhibit: Oh No He’s Hot, pictured below)

In this playful mode, even when he apologizes it’s usually in a way that somehow makes it worse. He’s constantly either annoying people or throwing them off guard or a combination, but in a much more cheerful eccentric way than say, Frankenstein. For example, after he says the line above to Yoruichi (in the middle of a battle, I might add), he says this:

“Why would you kick me? I came to help. I’m sorry, perhaps the expression “wedged in” was a bit vulgar.” 

He’s managed to repeat the thing that made her kick him, in a way that almost makes it worse, but in a way that makes it seem like hes trying to apologize. It’s very clever, and also ideal for pissing people off, intentional or not. (But who are we kidding, this is Kisuke. It’s definitely intentional). 

But he can also switch to a serious mode quite quickly, seemingly able to interweave the two modes without really needing to break between them. This most often comes out when there is someone to save or protect.

[Because he's secretly a softie, as mentioned above, god I love him]

For example, when Masaki is in danger, even tho he's never met her or the soul reapers before (and when his very existence should make him avoid Isshin), he says this:

“We dont have time to waste. Both of you, please come with me. I will tell you the choices you have to save her.”

It’s to the point, succinct, polite, and also filled with a desire to save. It’s also completely at odds with his playful tone when he speaks in other times. I think this dichotomy is the core of Kisuke. Of course he's playful and eccentric— and this makes him the delightful character he is— but at his core he's a man who cares about people and wants to help. He doesn’t hesitate to apologize when he is in the wrong either, kneeling before Ichigo after the Soul Society arc and not asking for forgiveness but explaining why he is sorry. (Ichigo forgives him, because Ichigo will always forgive him, and that hurts even more). 

But even when there are threats to life, if they've been dealt with and he's in a controlled environment, he pulls out the playful act again, though it often has an edge. For example, after he saves Ichigo for the first time he says this:

“What? You sound upset. Didn’t you want to be saved?”

It’s on the edge of teasing but its also much more pointed than anything else he's said to Ichigo at this point. It’s followed by some of the rawest and cruelest lines of dialogue I’ve ever read, because Kisuke doesn’t flinch back from being harsh when he has to be. 

Even his cruelty, when he is forced to use it, comes from a place of care and a desire to help. Doesn’t stop it from stinging like hell. 

It’s at this point where I descended into crying about Kisuke and how good he was and how much I love him, and so decided to stop.

In summary: Kisuke is a good man who couldn’t stop himself from inventing the most destructive weapon to exist. But he’s a good man, and so he spent a century crafting his own penance. 

General Kisuke Dialogue I’ve collected, in case people find it useful:

Stop fighting, you two. It’s my fault, I should have disposed of it. 

We have no choice. We’ve got to find it and neutralize it before it causes any trouble. 

No way, accidents happen! Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything. There now, its okay. 

Good, let’s move! Operation “recall”

Well look here. We finally find you, and you’re already incapacitated. What a waste. We lugged all this stuff here for nothing. 

I’m going to destroy it. Hmm. I’m not sure how to answer that. 

This is serious. I won’t take the fall for you. 

No no, Kurosaki-san. Your wounds have barely closed. If you move around too much, you’ll die <3. 

Do you really think, there is no way to get to Soul Society?

I’ll tell you, on one condition. For the next ten days, you must allow me to train you. 

You don’t understand. What I’m trying to tell you is they’ll kill you.Could you win? If you fought them as you are? I allowed you to fight them this time, because I thought it would make it easier for you to understand. At your current level of ability, you wouldn’t stand a chance in soul society. You’re weak. For you to venture into enemy territory now would be suicide. You want to save Kuchiki-san? Don’t make me laugh. Don’t use her as an excuse to kill yourself. 

Of course. If you wish to save Kuchiki-san with your whole heart, then you have at your disposal a power stronger than iron. But if your resolve is half-hearted, forget it. For the next ten days, I’m going to put you through the wringer. 

What? You sound upset. Didn’t you want to be saved?

He went home. His wound bled a lot, but it wasn’t severe. 

Couldn’t you have come up with anything better? [how lame]

Looks like I was a step too late.

What would you like me to do? Shall I book a ticket to reiokyu? It may take me some time though. [to ichigo]

We dont have time to waste. Both of you, please come with me. I will tell you the choices you have to save her. 

My my, you guys sure are having an interesting conversation. So, this Hueco Mundo trip. Shall I arrange it?

[I] its usually like this with Urahara. [K] you know me too well <3

Oh? You know of me. What an honor. (Said behind fan)

To be included in such an esteemed group, I don’t know what to say. Its an honor, but he’s giving me too much credit.

It’s wedged in their rather fatally, Yoruichi-san!

Why would you kick me? I came to help. I’m sorry, perhaps the expression “wedged in” was a bit vulgar (makes fake apologies a lot)

Asking me such a personal question, is really more of a second date thing.

You see, even if I don’t tell you, you’ll be up close and personal with it soon enough.

[misterbitches]

some thots. having a bad time so this is rougher than usual. oh well

....

i guess he really does know hiim best cos if that was my mans (man specifically cos if anyone else did that id take it more srsly) i would be like oh my god ur singing me a love song? i would love it but i woudl SCREAM in embarrassment. UNLESS it was a really deep love song that's about us dying together.

like i want to eat ur skin type of thing (drain u nirvana) lmaoa but i really like this song it reminds me of that velvet underground song (the only one i know cos of juno lmao) and nico or whatever 'i'm sticking with you)

my adhd would be out of fucking control i had to spend my time listening to this looking around i kept getting distracted by a tissue and thinking "wow this song is nice but i wish it would end bc i am getting distracted" and lo and behold i paused it and i have to pee and i know it's gonna take forever to undo this

ok about 12m later i turned it back on and they kissed and then he bit the corn then that night li chen also lost his virgin teas after watching gay porn and being like "hm interesting" and he'll be like "i see, ur dick is not medium sized"

i'm honestly gagging i cannot at this 12 year old marrying his mom

beautiful theyre beautiful

ayea you fucking psycho we do too because he was 17 and we had to witness it (or well, other people did cos i didnt watch the show even tho wayne song is [BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP BEEEEEP BEEEEP] and i want him to [BEEEEEEEP] and ppl even liked it which is fine like i get it in theory but they put this in my eyeballs so i'm gonna make fun of it bc it's fuckin DUMB lmao like i can't I CANNOT and he said "u were so persistent" BITCH UR 30??!?!???!?!?!?)capi hve it on mute and i tried to get a screencap of li chen and mu ren like together and not just his face but i cant find the timestamp and seeing their faces as they get married is literalyl traumattizing i'm like scremaing at my screen going "HE'S 5 HE'S 5 HE'S 5" and every time theyre like "we acn live forever together" like no bitch ur bones rae creaking

also is the officiator white? if anyone knows why or if that's common i'd love to know more. EDIT: HE ISN'T I JUST THOUGHT HE LOOKED LIKE MOBY FROM THAT ANGLE

anyway here

i'm almost done with this fucking bullshit and i am in a really ould mood and usu they make it a bit better but imo it's kind of....annoying i guess balancing all these story elements and introducin gother couples (even in the periphery) since the story in itself can't focus. i feel like all in all the time spent with these two is a lot more limited and we get the feel for the rship because of their chemistry as actors, irl chemistry as friends and colleagues, and hopefully being happy and working on a good set. so it isn't the strength of the writing or production.

for some reason they get like less dynamic ways of being together which i think is part of their charm, they do things their own way, but the writers really should have substantiated this more. it's really just the way everyone in the show has managed to deliver these AWFUL story lines and production decisions (like seriously who the fuck was on costume? lighting?)

like maybe hot take but all the moments that are cringe and insane in the show are not pleasant, per se, because they aren't thought out clearly. so they're not a joy to watch in the normal sense but the actors are good enough to pull it off. i didn't cringe at the talks they had because it felt like actors like acting these lines out instead of us being embarrassed for it and you CAN TELL theyre embarrassed.

this is a huge kudos to the casting director and the actors and whatever crew that actually did a good job. i don't particularly like watching bo xiang and his grandfather husband not because of the content but because i feel like, to me, they're so awkward even though they have chemistry. i don't have that issue with xing si and his rapist brother boyfriend because watching them is actually really pleasant, it's intimate. this isn't to do with the story though because when it hits you how devoid this other person is and how stupid the situation is it changes (for me, for me, for me, this is all my opinion think whateverrrr u want im not telling u 2 ok!)

so truly kudos to this cast. idk if i'm misremembering here but imo the most cast appropriate series in this was crossing the line and close to you. one is a decent atmosphere and execution (yes even with that brother story line, notice the major key differences though because that's a sincere false equivalence. they try to execute power imbalances soooo badly and then fail every time but here's one meant to shock too and it was just likelmao ok girl?)

it may not make sense to say either in a writing way or for the character to do it but i believe that whoever the characters these people are supposed to be especially those super not well written on the page still get that message aacross (yong jie's actor is a good ex. not sure if i should ccongratulate him for having the worst job on earth and the worst character and his character is flat but. ostensibly they should let their actions speak for themselevs but what they do is they back themselves into a ccorner with unsuretyabout their characters or a dilemma that pops up they just want to excuse it. well guess hwat u couldnt do enough legwork. but to some extent the disposable side couple works here on a um "our eyes see them and get it" way

also to me it seems like they chose this story just to have this specific wedding. like it's a timely topic and i'm pretty sure like another provision? (correction? idk) was made WRT taiwanese same-sex marriage so it's topical but it isn't like a "papa and daddy" situation where they're interacting in it and there (for ex: the pride parade) and there being like real life terms and consequences. here it seems like they were like ah yes wedding ah yes dumb couple from modc bc we kiled off the other one sooooo (then outsource them to life love on the line u__u) then hamfisting in some fucking message which is funny bc

- despite the hints peppered in and the clear attraction they both acknowledge ur like ~not gay just him~ even tho...i mean i just. again they dont read over what they write i don't think considering. but wahtever.

- the only gay dude (verbally said) is with his rapist brother with an awful power dynamic oh or IS a rapist (gao) (or his brother but i think it was just a "im a psycho so it's him" thing unless they said it. in which case idc cos i wasnt paying attn but that's also not great) or i guess the wedding but like....that's also a ridiculously inappropriate and dumb relationship taht it's built on. i mean i don't really see much respect her so i dont particularly want to hear abt gay weddings being important when they didn't even utilize it in the story beforehand and have we ever. this is a huge indication to me that it was a reverse engineered chosen story beforehand (if it was one) or thought of

soooooo

so reversal of that....it didnt give us enough time to breathe with these two at all but for both of the actors they can capitalize what's on the page and the writers didn't. like their dynamic is very i give/you give like taking car eof each other etc that's why

again, no artist worth their salt will ever say their work meant nothing. that's a cover up. i'm sick of lazy production and then getting away with it claiming being subversive or attacking an issue by not doing anything. we show crazy shit all the time but it has a POINT and ur point is "i like the gays" then girl.....i mean it's not great

but the acting really carried it. i have a feeling if this series continues it might continue to use more experienced actors cos maybe the budget goes up but they also have less inhibitions now when it comes to acting. i like the way li chen expresss himself and teng teng too. i like anson a lot and there's some angles that did not do any favors and i think eh has to get more control of his body movements (bc he's SO LARGE and thin) but he wasn't bad at all and there were real human tears. of course i, personally, favor charles tu. he has more control over his body because he has...less to work with and he's a bit bigger and he was really great in this role. he's a himbo a bit of a meathead but you like him. you like them. there's some things i think they had them say and do that they wouldn't let happen if they stuck to the characters and the story (mainly liking that dumb idiot rapist)

what i notice is that the reprehensible actions people criticize others for in the show and in real human life lalways gets turned around. teng teng being surprised that this boy's grandfather boyfriend met him when he was a junior in high school and he's 12 years older and him apologizing for being shocked and then whatshisface going "ur better at it than most people" and then the convo about gao with whatshisface and then rapist brother comes to pick him up. they are admonishing gao but thinking that rapist brother is noble for doin gwhat he did (and oh rapist brother shows up) like the hypocrisy and the decisions are immense. so now it's like "guys see he's a great guy" like girl STICK TO SOMETHING but whatever so i live in this universe where muren and li chen do everything right and have lots of different interesting fun seex with all their friends. i would write this but i cannot i am dying

[deadmomjokes]

For me, part of being asexual means that I get really, REALLY grouchy about a lot of romance in media. Rather, the obsession with romance, sex, and sexuality in media. I am that person that will roll my eyes and turn off a movie if it looks like it’s turning into some steamy nonsense, and I will never willingly sit through a romcom even if you paid me. Sex scenes? I’m out. Passionate kissing? Peace, I’m going to the kitchen, want anything? Call me back when the actual story gets back on. Ridiculous ‘ooh they have such SEXUAL TENSION and chemistry, let’s see how close we can get to making them kiss and just have them breathe heavily in each others faces to get our audience all bothered’? I will end you all. I HATE when books or movies or shows throw in a romantic or sexy subplot just for the lols, at least what I perceive as the lols. Basically, a romance has to be really super duper well-crafted for me to get behind it and not be just utterly enraged or completely turned off from the story.

(Also please note that when I use the term romance in this context, I’m using it as a catch all for ship-based storylines that, due to our culture’s obsession with sex, usually include or hinge on sex or kissy scenes.)

That being said. When a romance is done well, and I mean really well, I absolutely 100% lose my mind. I feel that mess in my soul.

So with that introduction, allow me to lay out a few of my favorite (and, in some instances, most maddeningly painful) romances/canon ships in media.

(read more because I went off. like I said, I feel this way too deeply when it’s done well.)

Winry Rockbell and Edward Elric in FMA:B. Slow burn, mutual pining, mutual cluelessness, what’s not to love? So soft and tender and funny all at the same time, and the mad respect Ed has for Winry is absolutely delightful. She does her own thing, and he’s totally supportive, just as she is of him. And a happily ever after??? UGH, I can’t, it’s perfect. The most straightforward and least convoluted of my whole list, and it’s comparatively easy to breeze through. FMA:B is great anyhow, so do yourself a favor and go watch it.

Audrey Parker/ Nathan Wuornos in Haven (with major caveats). Caveats first: they went overboard with the sexy stuff in my opinion. It got too smutty for me, but my tolerance for that stuff is super low, and it did still air on TV, so evidently it wasn’t as bad for the target audience as it was for my sex-in-media-repulsed self. I also find the final seasons to get a bit stale and repetitive in terms of them trying to advance the love story narrative (all the plot points for it got addressed in earlier episodes/seasons, so why are we going over it again??). They also have a bit of an issue in some episodes with dragging out conflicts because the characters just won’t talk to each other like adults. But overall, taken as a whole, it hits hard. Again, we have a slow burn, mutual pining dynamic that starts as a genuine platonic friendship, and transforms into a dimension and time defying chosen soulmates love story for the ages. The things they would do to save each other, even if it means they can never be together, just so they have the joy of knowing that their beloved is okay. The tiny ways they take care of each other- Audrey testing Nathan’s coffee to see if it’s too hot, Nathan slowing down so he doesn’t out-pace her, it’s just adorable.

Faramir and Eowyn in The Lord of the Rings BOOKS. This is an interesting one because it happens really quickly and between two minor characters. But Tolkien did this really interesting thing where he established these two characters separately, and then brought them together and played off what we knew about each of them in context of everything else that had happened with the main story, and suddenly it has, as one of my professors would say, “the illusion of depth.” Faramir absolutely falls head over heels for Eowyn but won’t act until she can deal with her own crap and be emotionally available. Eowyn realizes that she was hung up on ideals, illusions, and false dichotomies. Faramir has been through a lot and is looking for peace. Eowyn is looking for who she really is when she realizes she has more than two choices in life. They find healing together, and in the process, find what they were looking for in each other. And all that happens in the space of, like, 4 pages. I LOVE IT.

Sam Carter and Jack O’Neill in Stargate SG1. This one will hurt you to no end. You will hate life. But gosh dang if they aren’t perfect. This is the slowest burn and most mutual pining of all slow burn mutual pining ships to ever grace media. I’m talking 8 seasons of these two sharing feelings but being unable to express it for one reason or another. What are those reasons, you ask? Jack is her superior and respects her too much to put her in that position. No fraternization on the team. Sam has career aspirations, he won’t ruin her life. He’s got his own issues to work through and knows he isn’t emotionally available. Sam is clueless for a while, then when she realizes she has feelings for him but it couldn’t be because of their work dynamic and because he’s still dealing with his own crap, she tries to move on but keeps coming back to the unspoken fact that she still loves him. To the point that she breaks off her own engagement to a great guy because she realizes she was only trying to move on-- and wasn’t successful. They are clearly in deep for each other, and yet they keep making excuses why they can’t say it.

In the whole series, they never officially get together, and I HATE THAT. There are multiple alternate realities and timelines where they are together, and happy, but in the main timeline, they can’t get over themselves, and it hurts so bad because they’re so perfect. Jack knows she’s the smartest person in the room, and he supports her and defends her and listens to and defers to her. He respects her first as an expert, then as a colleague, and then as a woman whom he deeply loves even though he can’t find it in him to love himself. She appreciates his experience and leadership, and trusts him implicitly. She knows she’s got more book smarts, but relies on his judgement and ability to remain calm under pressure. She also knows she can be real with him, and he knows that when she calls him on his BS he better listen. She is his conscience, and he is her backbone. And in between episodes where they’re clearly pining for each other, and even during, they’re really great friends and a great team. I could seriously write an essay on why this ship is both perfect and intensely frustrating, but then again, you could just watch a great and classic series and see what I mean for yourself. (Then you’d also get to meet the perfection that is Teal’c, and watch Daniel Jackson’s transition from Milo Thatch in Space to sassy beefcake demigod who still loves archaeology.)

Beren and Luthien, Tolkien part 2, electric boogaloo. A love so powerful it transcends death, fate, hell and heaven all at once. It’s kind of wild and not what you’d expect if you’ve only read LotR (or only seen the movies), because it’s more a classic fairy tale than anything, but hot dang if it isn’t still one of the most powerful, moving, deeply impactful love stories in all of writing. It’s even a “love at first sight” narrative and I STILL fall hard for it. This story legit moves me to tears every dang time I read it, or even think about it too hard.

It starts as a simple “forbidden love” story, but these two loved each other so much that they defied one of the most powerful kings in all the world at that time (who was also Luthien’s dad, oopsies), defied Satan himself and marched into Hell just for the chance to be together, and then changed the very way the world works forever just so they could stay together and not be parted. Luthien is a total BEAST, while never giving up her gentle, loving, and tender nature. For the love of this man, she defies her father’s wishes and breaks herself out of her own dang tower to go rescue her prince instead of the other way round, she sends Sauron (yeah, he’s here too!) scurrying with his tail between his legs, wrecks his house, and frees all his slaves and prisoners just to try and get to Beren, drags his butt out of heck part 1, then willingly walks into literal, actual Hell with him and proceeds to enchant Satan and all the demons within. Then she gets her bf outta there after he loses his hand, and goes back to face her father unafraid. Basically, Beren undertakes a literally impossible task just for the chance to be with Luthien, but Luthien is the one that makes it happen because she loves him too much to sit around knowing he’s going to die. She’s willing to die with him rather than live without him, but more willing to dare death to come at her and get some because ain’t no way she’s losing him.

Then, at the last, when all should have been their happily ever after, everything goes wrong and she loses her beloved, and instead of mourning forever, she yeets off her mortal coil out of pure “Oh no you didn’t, not after all we went through” just to go stand before the God of Fate and the Dead and plead with him to change the rules of the universe itself just so that she can be with Beren. And he does it, because their love is so strong. Just for them, all of existence is rewritten so that they might never be parted.

And if you don’t think that’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard, consider also: these two crazy kids were so wonderful that the Goodest Boy in all the world, a functionally immortal and super-intelligent dog sent from heaven itself by a literal god, willingly turned on all his masters and spontaneously learned intelligent speech just so he could help them out and be their Good Boy til the bitter end, thus (in Tolkien’s mythos) starting the whole “man’s best friend” thing with dogs. So yeah. And, uh, Tolkien based it on him and his wife, to the point of ripping their first meeting frame-for-frame from real life. It’s too much y’all.

Anyhow, this post is way, way too long, but I was just feeling the need to get that out there. Maybe I’ll have more in the future, but for now, this is what was on my mind. Particularly the last two.