#i wrote this... sorry for any errors

[sprinkler-ashes]

the great war // aaron hotchner x reader

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

words: 5.5k

description: in which aaron hotchner thinks you’re hot-headed. inspired by the great war by taylor swift.

warnings: angst w/ a happy ending, one (1) steamy car makeout, cursing, typical cm violence depictions

a/n: long time no see, and i’m sorry about that. to make a long story short, summer was very awful on me; i had a breakup and am now back in school + drowning in work. I love this fic so much; it’s probably my favorite i’ve ever written and i hope you love it too <3 also!!! if you have a request for a fic to a song, please send it my way! taylor swift is my go-to, but i am open to any song request <3

you drew up some good faith treaties

i drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone

you said i have to trust more freely

but diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire

You should have known better than to date someone you worked with. No, actually, you should have known better than to date, of all people, your boss.

Date was a loose term.

You weren’t really sure when the lines between co-workers blurred into friendship and when friendship blossomed into early morning coffee dates and late evenings in the office together doing paperwork, and even later nights spent at dinner tables being hours deep into conversation. You knew it hadn’t happened out of nowhere. This thing between the two of you had been building up for years – years of pining.

There was a voice in the back of your head telling you that it was all too good to be true, but you pushed it back as far as you could. Besides, the two of you hadn’t even called it dating, but it sure did feel like it.

But it hadn’t felt like that in a really long time.

Aaron had put a stop to whatever was going on four months ago. He had given you some bullshit excuse that he was your boss, it was wrong of him to be doing whatever the two of you were doing with his subordinate — blah, blah – but you had stopped listening when your heart became so heavy you thought it was going to physically weigh you down.

You had been through breakups before, even some serious ones, but nothing had ever felt like this. 

You tried to stop him, but he was also a man who had made his mind up; it was impossible to get through to him that you didn’t want to end it.

So you went back to work acting like nothing had happened. And it was about to be the death of you.

However, you were a professional. It’s not like the team even knew about you and Aaron. You acted the same as always when you were at work. No one suspected anything because no one knew what you were going through.

You didn’t talk to Aaron unless you had to. Truthfully, you hadn’t spoken to him for anything that wasn’t work-related since he basically dumped you on a random Wednesday evening for reasons you couldn’t fathom, but that didn’t mean you didn’t try.

In the beginning, you tried reaching out. You called, you texted him a couple of times, and you had even been so desperate one night that you sent him an email. Each time, you were met with rejection, and him saying something along the lines that both of you should just forget about everything.

So you did by cutting all contact. You thought to yourself, I’ll show him, but it really did nothing. If it bothered him, he never showed it.

It seemed like nothing bothered him until now. A whole whopping four months later.

“Not only did you blow our cover, but you walked into a hostage situation with no weapon to defend yourself; you didn’t even strap a vest on. You are lucky that no one died or was seriously injured.” Aaron wasn’t yelling – he was actually just slightly an octave below yelling – but it sure as hell sounded like he was screaming because his voice had never been like this towards you.

You frowned, not liking the way he was calling you out in front of everyone – in front of a group of people that you greatly admired and respected. “What else was I supposed to do, Hotch? If I hadn’t gone in there, that woman would have died. I was trying to save her life.”

“Save her life?” he asked incredulously. “From the moment you burst through those doors, you put her in even more danger than she was already in. Not only could she have died, but you also could have.”

“Why are you giving me so much shit over this?” you asked, throwing your hands up in anger, not paying attention to the awkward glances your team was giving each other. “I’m not the only one who's done this, and I won’t be the last. I don’t care to risk my life trying to save someone else. I’m sorry that I blew everyone’s cover, but I won’t apologize for saving her.”

Aaron shook his head, his demeanor that was normally unreadable was completely gone. “You’re on probation, effectively immediately-”

“What? I, Hotch-”

“You will not physically assist in any cases for the next two weeks. You will still travel to cases, but you will work directly from the police department. You will not be allowed to go in the field.”

He kept talking, his mouth moving a mile a minute listing off all the things you were allowed to do and what you couldn’t do, but you couldn’t focus on anything he was saying. You were so tempted to slap your boss across the face and if it wouldn’t have technically been workplace harassment, you probably would have.

“Hotch, we’ve all made mistakes,” Derek Morgan said. “No one ended up hurt tonight. With all due respect, I think a two week probation is a little harsh.”

You wanted to thank Derek for sticking up for you, but you couldn’t form words at that moment. Your feet were on the move faster than you could even think as they took you to the SUV that you’d arrived in, not wanting to hear Aaron talk to Derek about you. All you wanted to do was get on the jet, leave the small Arkansas town you were in, get back to Quantico, and try to stop thinking about Aaron Hotchner.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t as easy as you liked to think.

You rode back to the hotel with Emily and JJ, who had let you sit in the front seat, and didn’t dare look either of them in the eye. Emily tried to make small talk to lighten the mood, but you could barely even think about anything other than your probation and the way that Aaron had talked to you in front of everyone. She eventually took the hint, and the three of you rode back to the hotel in silence.

You finally turned to Emily once the SUV came to a stop. “Do you know if we’re leaving tonight or in the morning?” Normally, if you finished a case late, you always preferred to spend the night in the hotel in order to get some rest, but there was nothing you wanted more than to just go home now.

“Uh, tonight,” Emily said with a grimace. “Sorry, I know you usually hate leaving immediately after.”

You shook your head. “Not this time. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to go home more than I do right now.”

Emily eyed you up and down, taking in your slumped, exhausted body. Her eyes flickered up to the mirror, catching JJ’s eye who was giving an equally worried look. “Do you want to talk-”

“Not right now, Emily,” you interrupted. “I’m going to pack my stuff up. Can you send me a text when it’s time to go?”

Emily looked like she wanted to say more, but she didn’t, sensing you obviously didn’t want to talk about it right now. “Yeah, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “See you guys soon.” With that, you were out of the SUV before either of them could unbuckle their seatbelts and on your way to the entrance of the hotel you were staying in along with the rest of the team.

Typically, you shared a room with someone, but luckily for you, it was your turn to get your own this time, which you couldn’t have been more thankful for when you swiped your keycard and finally got to be alone for a minute.

You knew that Emily meant well. She had been one of your closest friends since you had joined the team. You felt a tinge of guilt at how closed off you had been to her in the car when she was just trying to make sure you were okay. However, you really weren’t okay, and you really didn’t want Emily to know the full extent of what was going on.

After hastily packing your things and grabbing a quick shower, you received a text from Emily that it was time to go. On your way down to the lobby to meet her, it was finally setting in that you were, quite literally, exhausted. You’d been awake since before daylight and a quick glance at the time shining on your phone reminded you that you had been awake for nearly seventeen hours.

You rode with Emily, JJ, and Rossi to board the jet, but ended up napping the entire short duration of the drive. Truthfully, you hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep until Rossi had nudged you awake.

When you were finally in the air, you allowed yourself to catch a glance at your infuriating boss who was still, as usual, in his suit with his tie and jacket discarded, writing in a file.

Probably writing me up, you bitterly thought to yourself. You knew you had done a not-very-smart thing, but by the time you figured out that the original plan the team came up with wasn’t going to work, it was too late. If you hadn’t darted through the door and startled the unsub, the poor woman who was taken hostage was going to meet a very similar fate that four other women faced.

You could admit that it was a rash, last minute decision, but you didn’t regret it. You saved a woman’s life and helped capture an awful man who would have never stopped if not caught. It felt like Aaron was punishing you for something that wasn’t the decision you made tonight. Two weeks on probation felt a little extreme to you.

Twenty minutes into the flight, Derek, Rossi, and JJ were already asleep while Emily looked like she was close to following. Spencer was nursing what you thought was his second coffee in the short time on the jet, a pair of headphones in as he watched something on the tablet he had propped up.

That left only you and Aaron sitting in silence.

This had been a particularly hard case that had to be solved in under seventy-two hours in order to prevent any more victims since you, with the help of Spencer, figured out that the unsub operated on stalking and kidnapping his victims on a specific schedule. Hardly anyone had gotten much sleep in an attempt to solve the case as soon as possible – hence why nearly everyone was asleep.

Aaron finally spoke after nearly fifty minutes into the flight from his seat in front of you after Emily and Spencer had finally drifted off, though you weren’t sure how Spencer was even sleeping considering he had downed two coffees. “You should get some rest.”

“Don’t worry about me,” you said bitterly, keeping your eyes straight ahead. “I’ll be getting lots of rest in the next two weeks considering I can’t really do anything else on probation, so thanks, but I’m good.” The words were tumbling out before you could even comprehend what you’d said. In a normal situation, you’d be worried that speaking to your boss like that would result in its own consequences but considering you were already on probation, what was the harm?

He said nothing.

—

It was nine days into what felt like the most excruciatingly long probation known to man, and you still had five more days to go.

You had just gotten back from a case in Maine where you, unfortunately, barely got to do anything other than help out at the police station. In addition, you had to finish several online modules assigned to you by Strauss on safety in the field, which was, in your opinion, ridiculous considering you had been at the BAU for a good amount of time – long enough to know all about safety in the field.

“I think I’ve gone past the point of exhaustion,” Emily said as you came off the elevator as she stifled a yawn. “Is that a real thing?”

“Yes, my beautiful friend who I am so happy to see. That means you need to get home and rest.”

Penelope Garcia was there to greet you at the elevator, a warm smile lighting up her face as she gave Emily a hug then turned to you. “How are you doing?”

“I’ll be fine in five days when this stupid probation is over,” you told Penelope, watching her give you a sympathetic smile.

“I’m heading out, but you have my number if you need me,” she told you with a comforting pat to your arm. “Goodnight ladies.”

Penelope was on the elevator to leave as you and Emily, after waving off Penelope, filed off to your desks to pack up to go back to your apartments.

“Got a hot date tonight?” Emily asked jokingly.

You laughed and shook your head. “Haven’t had a hot date in a long time. What about you?”

It was true. The last date you had been on was four months ago with the man who also happened to be your boss and who also happened to be your number one enemy right now.

“Just with Sergio.”

You and Emily were already on your way out to leave for the night officially until you stopped in your tracks when you reached the elevator. “Ugh, I just realized I left my phone charger at my desk. You can go on without me.”

“You sure? I don’t mind waiting,” she said as she stepped into the elevator.

You nodded. “Go on; it’s late. Have a good night, Emily.”

A huff left your mouth as you turned back on your heel to walk back to your desk. Your hands grasped the charger laying under several files that you (probably) needed to look at, but tonight was not the night for that.

However, you realized it was definitely not your night at all when you tried to turn your car on, only to be met with a sound of spluttering.

“Not tonight,” you groaned, repeatedly trying to turn your key to start the engine, but the car never started, much to your luck. “Are you serious right now?”

Your car was by no means brand new, but it was a good car and not often did it give you problems. Except for tonight. Or in other words, the one night you desperately wanted to go home, take a shower, and go to bed.

You weren’t really sure of your options. You could probably call Emily. She couldn’t have gotten too far down the road. Maybe she could give you a ride since her apartment was on the way to your place. Another option was calling an Uber, but –

Your car door opening knocked you out of your train of thought. Your brain immediately went into fight-or-flight, and you chose fight as your hands instinctively reached for the pepper spray on your key ring.

“Hey! It’s just me.”

It was Aaron with his hands outstretched into a surrender position, his suit jacket hanging from the crease where his arm bent. “Why are you sitting in the parking lot in the dark with your car unlocked? Do you know how easy it would be for someone to-”

“Come up and kidnap me? Yeah, I learned all about it in my online safety training this past week as if I didn’t already know,” you sassed with an eye roll. “I think my battery is dead. I usually keep jumper cables in here, but I cleaned my car out last week and must have taken them out. I’m probably going to have to call an Uber.”

You didn’t know why you were telling him all of this. The small voice in the back of your head knew why, but you weren’t willingly to actively think about it. You had enough on your plate right now.

“I’ll give you a ride home.”

“Like hell you will,” you told him.

“You do know I’m your boss, and you technically can’t speak to me like that?”

“You won’t fire me. You'll just put me on probation.”

He paused, his eyes closing momentarily before opening them again and going back to his stoic demeanor as usual. “Let me drive you home, so I will know that you got home safely. Please.”

You wanted to say no, but it was late and getting a ride home from Aaron meant that you didn’t have to bother Emily or lose money on an Uber. The only thing you’d be losing, in your opinion, was what little dignity you had left when it came to Aaron.

It’s just a ride home, you told yourself in your head.

“Fine.” You had admitted defeat. “Give me a second.”

He turned his back to you and started to walk away from your car. When you knew for sure he couldn’t see you, you positioned the rearview mirror so you could see yourself in it. Before you could stop yourself, you attempted to fix your hair as nicely as possible and then took a moment to stop what you were doing. You scoffed at yourself and shook your head.

“What is wrong with me?” You asked yourself aloud. “He doesn’t care. Neither do you.”

However, after you grabbed your things, you did sneak one more look in the mirror before getting out of your car and locking it. You were glad when you took another look to see Aaron not looking in your direction. 

 You made your way over to Aaron’s signature parking spot, the same one he parked in every morning, and met him there, his hands typing something out on his phone until he noticed your presence.

Without missing a beat, he opened the passenger door for you. You wanted to tell your heart to stop when that familiar flutter came back like it used to all those months ago. You opened your mouth, but he stopped you before you could say anything.

“No need for a remark. I’m just opening the door for you.”

“I was going to say thanks.”

A ghost of a smile danced across his face as he shut the door. It was so quick if you weren’t paying attention then you wouldn’t have seen it.

Your eyes adjusted to the interior of Aaron’s car, déjà vu hitting you from the first time you were ever in his car. But you forced those thoughts back down with a grimace and a reminder of how that ended the first time.

With one hand gripping the wheel and the other holding onto the back of your seat as his torso turned, eyes watching behind as he backed out, you thought you were going to throw up. Not because you were sick, but because Aaron was so damn attractive in doing the simplest things like backing up a car.

“You can turn on the radio if you want,” Aaron told you. “Your cord is still in here.”

You bit your lip, eyes locking onto the green cord still plugged in. “I’ve been looking for that everywhere. I had to buy a new one for my car.”

Back when you were frequently with Aaron, and he was typically the designated driver when you went places, you often complained about the lack of music in his car. He only listened to whatever was on the radio. He had no CDs nor did he have an AUX cord, claiming something about never being in his personal car long enough to deal with music in it.

After that day, you put your AUX cord in his car the next time you were in it and controlled the music, often giving him a performance to your favorite songs in the car as he drove. Aaron never complained like a lot of guys would. Instead, he would watch you belt a heartbreak ballad with an amused smile.

But that was months ago. And things were much different now.

“I would’ve given it back to you, but it’s slipped my mind. Feel free to take it with you.”

The happy memories that the AUX cord brought back were pushed to the back of your head again at his words. He told you to take it because there was no point in it anymore. You two were done.

You didn’t plug the cord into your phone. You didn’t play a song. You sat in the terrible silence, wishing it wasn’t silent like before, but it was silent, and Aaron was acting like nothing was wrong. 

Another awkward moment passed as he kept driving, the route to where you lived engraved as he had driven there many times. Aaron didn’t have to ask you where you lived because he knew. He knew from all the late nights he dropped you back off. The thought of all the previous times you’d been on this exact same drive under different circumstances made your head hurt.

“Why did you put me on probation?” The words slipped out before you could stop them.

“You know why I put you on probation. You comprised the safety of yourself, the team, and-”

“I compromised the safety of myself, the team, and the victim, yes, I know, but you put me on a two week probation when I can name off countless times that others on the team have done worse and didn’t get put on a two-week probation,” you argued back. “I know I messed up, but at the end of the day, it feels like you’re punishing me for something.”

He nodded, his eyes staying trained on the road. “I am punishing you for something, and that something is compromising-”

“I swear if you say compromise one more time-”

“Compromising your safety and the safety of others.”

You didn't say anything. Your arms were crossed as you looked out the window and into the dark as objects moved past you, reaching closer to your destination.

Aaron spoke your name, but you didn’t want to look at him.

“What?”

“Look at me,” he said as the car came to a stop at a redlight.

You reluctantly looked over, not prepared to see him already looking at you. You swallowed, trying to keep your gaze on him.

“I’d rather you be angry with me than even thinking about the possibility of you getting hurt.”

You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to because he kept going.

“When I saw you run into that warehouse, it was one of the only times in my life that I have been so scared that I couldn’t think straight. I put you on probation because you did something reckless. All of us outside thought we lost you when we heard the gunshots. I know you and a few others thought probation was too harsh, but it’s important for you to know that if you’re going to storm a hostage situation, you have to communicate with us. The team cannot lose you,” Aaron told you, his eyes never leaving yours. “I can’t lose you. Understood?”

You were pretty sure that at this point your voice was gone. You simply nodded.

The light turned green, and Aaron started driving again, his eyes finally breaking contact. “Finish out your probation next week and then put it behind you.”

There were no more words spoken. It was silent. You didn’t know how to respond to anything he had just said to you.

Except you did have one question. You weren’t even sure if you wanted the answer to it.

“If you can’t lose me,” you started, fiddling with the sleeve of your top, “then why did you end things?”

“It was for the best,” Aaron said, breaking your heart all over again. “I’m your boss-”

“You being my boss didn’t seem to be a problem when your mouth was on mine every time you dropped me off from dinner.”

He didn’t seem to have an answer for that. You sat smugly in your seat waiting for him to say something.

“You want the truth?”

“I’ve only been asking you for the truth for four months now,” you shot back.

“I fell in love with you.”

Aaron said it so casually that you had to do a double take, your mouth slightly opening. Out of all the things he could’ve said, you did not in a million years think that would be it. Your heart was pounding, and there was a moment where you thought that you had imagined him saying that he fell in love with you, but he really did say it.

He continued. “I thought it was best to end what was going on between us because things would’ve only escalated, and I didn’t want people to think negatively about you. You’re a strong woman in a male-dominated field. You’ve worked hard to get to where you are. You should be taken seriously and unfortunately, going out with your boss doesn’t look good on paper. I hurt you, and I’m truly sorry for that.”

You hadn’t even realized it when Aaron had finally pulled up to the huge parking lot of your apartment building, which was surprisingly vacant for a Thursday night. The words he’d said were dancing around in your head. You hadn’t done anything wrong. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

Even after everything, all you really wanted was him.

“Aaron,” you said as you turned to him when he put the car in park, “I mean this with all due respect, but that’s not just your decision to make. I should get a say. I wish you had told me because for the last four months I’ve been going crazy with overthinking. That’s why it hurt so much when you put me on probation. I thought you were punishing me for something between us. Please don’t shut me out because I’m in love with you, and quite frankly, I don’t give a shit about what people say about me.”

“But people will talk about you-”

“So?”

“And there’s also Strauss-”

“Who we can deal with. I’m not afraid of Erin Strauss,” you cut him off again.

He raised his eyes before you spoke again. “Okay, maybe I’m slightly afraid of her, but that doesn’t change anything. You don’t choose who you fall in love with. If people want to talk about me for being in love, then let them. I just want to be with you, so please stop trying to protect me. I can handle anything.”

“Okay,” Aaron said after a minute. “Okay. If you want to do this, there is a lot to discuss work-wise.”

“That’s fine. I have a lot of time to discuss things. I’m on probation.” 

Every other time you had brought up your probation, it had been with anger, but this time, there was only a grin on your face. Even though you were still mad about that damn probation, which was another conversation for another time, you figured you might as well make a joke out of it.

Aaron couldn’t keep a straight face. “Yes, you are for five more days. You still have one more module on safety in the field to complete.”

“Screw you,” you said half-jokingly.

“You wish,” he shot right back.

“You’re damn right I do.”

It was as if there was a shift in the air. You’d spent four months without him and in that moment you had decided you never really wanted to go another second without him. There was still a lot to talk about between the two of you, but for now, all you really wanted to do was kiss him.

Even when the two of you were “seeing” each other, or whatever it was, there wasn’t much physical affection. Aaron always kissed you before dropping you off at night, but it was always short, sweet, and simple. Tonight, you didn’t want short, sweet, and simple as your goodbye kiss.

“You should be getting in. It’s late,” he told you, but neither of you made an effort to move. In fact, it felt like you had only gotten closer. You could feel Aaron’s breath fan your face.

You leaned even closer, your face only inches from his. “You gonna tell me goodnight?”

Aaron never replied, only moving to close the small gap between the two of you, his lips pressing against yours in a way that almost felt desperate.

You were the one to take it a step further as your mouth opened wider and one of your hands slid up to rest on his shoulder. Aaron gladly took the hint. His tongue was in your mouth and before you could process it, one hand had moved to cup your face while the other rested on your thigh.

He pulled back for a moment, but only to mess with something under his seat. You gave him a confused look, still breathing heavily. “What are you doing?”

Aaron’s seat had scooted back further to open more room between him and the steering wheel, and you realized what he was doing now. He simply shrugged. “The console is in the way.”

With that, you laughed and maneuvered yourself across the center console that Aaron seemed to hate at the moment. His hands instinctively grabbed your waist in an attempt to help you move over and onto him – literally.

You took in your current situation for a moment. You were straddling Aaron Hotchner in his car in a parking lot. If you had told yourself earlier in the morning that this is where you would be, you would not have believed it.

His lips were back on yours before you could think about anything else, hands still gripping your waist while yours moved to his hair. You were pressed against him, your chest to his, and left no room between the two of you.

“This okay?” He mumbled as his warm hands snaked underneath your shirt, now resting on your bare hips. He pressed a kiss to your jaw while you nodded, a deep breath leaving your mouth. He smiled against your jaw before reattaching his lips again, but this time to your neck.

You couldn’t think of the last time you felt like this. Your body felt like it was literally on fire, and Aaron’s mouth wasn’t doing anything to extinguish that fire – only making it worse.

As much as you loved the hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, you cupped his face, guiding him back up to your lips. Your hands slid to tangle in his hair, earning you a throaty sound from him, which only encouraged you further as you smiled against his lips before going back to kissing him.

Aaron pulled back only a few seconds later, both of you breathing heavily in a hot and flustered state. “As much as I’m enjoying this, we probably shouldn’t get too carried away in here.”

“What? Car sex isn’t on your bucket list?” You joked.

He laughed as you leaned into the hand cupping your face. “You deserve better than a car the first time.”

“So what I’m hearing is car sex after the first time?”

Aaron gave you one of his rare grins, and it lit up your entire world. “You are impossible.”

“I’m just kidding,” you said, giving him a peck on the cheek. “I really should be getting in the bed. My boss is making me come in at eight-thirty tomorrow for a meeting.”

“Oh really? He sounds very smart.”

You playfully rolled your eyes and with the help of Aaron, you moved back over to the passenger seat. “I will see you bright and early in the morning.”

“Looking forward to it.”

You gave him one last kiss before gathering your bag and opening the car door. “Goodnight, Aaron.”

“Goodnight,” he told you.

You shut the door and with a smile on your face, waved to him one last time before making your way towards the entrance of your apartment building.

However, before you could get very far, you heard Aaron’s voice calling your name. You turned around to see him with his window down.

“Did I forget something?” You called to him and watched confusedly as he shook his head.

“Your hair looked fine earlier. You didn’t have to fix it just for me.”

[azu1as]

—a tangcheong reincarnation ficlet set during the shaolin tournament arc 👍

»—————————–✄

Part 1 2 3

baek cheon didn't think much of the loud commotion being made in the audience stands as a large family entered the arena.

"huh? what's all that noise over there?" yoon jong voiced out.

the rest of the mount hua disciples turned their heads in the direction yoon jong was pointing at and they watched as people unabashedly stared at the person in the center of the group.

"you missing a cousin or something, samae?" one of the disciples joked.

the man in question looked closer to a tang than he did his own family members who walked beside him. whereas their hair were varying shades of light brown, his was dark and closer to tang soso's own color.

tang soso frowned, narrowing her eyes as she tried to peer at his features which were slightly too far to distinguish properly.

"I don't recall having any cousins in shaolin..." she mutters as yu iseol also tilted her head in question.

the man's gaze sweeped lazily across the arena. even from afar, baek cheon could tell that the man's gaze was contemptuous.

he didn't need to use his qi to enhance his eyesight to know that the gaze that was thrown towards the sect leaders' stand was absolutely scathing.

jo gul scratched his cheek. "he must be the rumored son of the zheng merchant family. see the crest on his robes?"

"what do you know of him?" baek cheon asked. he doesn't really understand why but a part of him felt like he had to be on-guard towards the strange man.

"not much," jo gul winced, "just that he's a bit older than us and that he...mildly poisoned one of the daughters of another family in sichuan."

"..."

they all turned towards tang soso.

"are you sure he's not part-tang or something?" yoon jong asked.

their conversation is abruptly interrupted by loud shouts cheering for shaolin.

the disciples of mount hua shared resolute nods as they began marching forward, letting the praises pouring out from the audience straighten their spines and walk more resolutely.

chung myung seamlessly slipped back into their fold, the money pouches he brought with him noticably emptier than when he had arrived.

it felt as if the cheers for them rang louder than those for shaolin. it was a very ovewhelming feeling and all of them could feel the pressure on their shoulders.

once again, they watch the reliable back of their sajil as chung myung finally sets foot on the stage, gazing up.

the current head of the zheng family was not influenced by the excitement that seemed to radiate from his fellow tournament-goers. rather, his eyes were locked on the face of his elder brother who he had never seen look as emotional as he did now.

there was disbelief on his face. he wore a strange expression which wavered between hope and doubt. unfathomable emotions swam in his eyes.

"ge, is everything alright?" he worriedly asked. "if you wish to leave, we don't have to—"

"no." zheng bo cut him off. "we're staying."

he shared concerned looks with his other siblings, but they silently agreed to let it be.

their eldest brother had always been distant, but he was never unkind to them.

they could never understand where the weight zheng bo seemed to always carry on his shoulders came from, but he never lashed at them.

they had never known zheng bo to be anything other than melancholic, so seeing the way the beginnings of a lively spark enter his eyes...

it was as if they were watching him transform into someone else for a moment.

"hyung...?" zheng bo murmured as he practically threw himself over the railing to get a closer look.

luckily, their youngest sibling, about the same age as the youngest second class disciple of mount hua, managed to pull their eldest brother back by the robe.

"zheng bo, what's gotten into you?" their mother worriedly clutched at him.

a string of incomprehensible muttering escaped zheng bo's lips. "...a descendant? no, he—a wife? no, as if..."

questioning stares were thrown their way from other audience members, but they were quickly distracted by the start of the deciding battle between the two finalists.

it was a battle that no one could have ever expected.

it felt too one-sided and the zheng family, as with the rest of the spectators, found themselves at a complete loss over the practically one-sided battle between shaolin's hye yeon and mount hua's chung myung.

there was heavy and glooming feeling charging the atmosphere. the previous racuous and excited cheers turned into silent feelings of apprehension and confusion.

“this is nothing compared to what mount hua has been through.”

zheng bo let out a pained, heartaching noise.

"ge," the second zheng son started, still lost. "do you know what he's talking about?"

it seemed to him that chung myung was talking about something beyond the prior slow decline of their sect.

zheng bo seemed to be too overcome with his own emotions to answer.

they all turned back their heads to the stage and were graced with the sight of a soft curve of a blade that arched beautifully, tearing apart all the golden winds thrown towards its weilder's way by hye yeon.

"beautiful..." someone in the audience behind them mumbled.

and it truly was a mesmerizing sight to see.

and it became all the more so when plum blossoms pink, an unstoppable multitude, bloomed from chung myung's sword.

tang bo crumpled where he had was standing.

happiness, guilt, and, most of all, /relief/ wrapped themselves around his heart—his heart which, for the longest time, for over three decades, had been hollowed and emptied out of any possible feelings.

"you're here too."

tang bo didn't have to be alone anymore.

[writeshite]

*John (after hurting his bf) in his homelander pose with his fake homelander smile, standing next to a big ass bouquet, with petals on the ground to form "I'm sorry"* "So, can I get some cuddles and maybe some milking or it's too soon?"

You blink once then twice, and for a second John is confident he's about to be showered in kisses and hugs. But his hopes are squashed when you take the bouquet and throw it at his face, walking back into your room and shutting the door.

John is baffled; why aren't you hugging and kissing him like the rom-coms? Why aren't the two of you laughing and cuddling on the couch, having makeup sex? Maybe you just needed some time to let his apology sink in. Yeah, after an hour, he’ll be snuggling next to you and watching a movie or something, right?

[stjernespiller]

Another eye

Can also be found on AO3

You can’t see anything.

Blood drips from your face. You think it hurts, in that distant way everything does now. You try to get it out of your eye, just enough to see the fight, but your vision stays dark through the wet sounds of blood and flesh.

Stupid, you think to yourself. Stupid stupid idiot, zoning out in a battle. Should have just looped forward to the king instead of taking that bathroom break and fighting the floor boss. Couldn’t even blinding cry, so what did it matter?

Your family members are speaking. They don’t do that much in battle. You should probably listen.

Bonnie is crying.

Mirabelle heals you again, a light feeling drifting over you that does nothing to take away the weight in your stomach. You don’t know why she did it again, you just need to get this blood out of your eye and you can go back to the fight, stop zoning out just enough to beat the sadness blocking your way to asking the king the question you’ve been dreading.

Isabeau is saying something very close to you. You think it’s him, at least, from the deeper tone. You can’t hear it. Can’t fight can’t see can’t hear. You’re pathetic.

He touches your face.

It’s- new, strange, unexpected. You flinch, and he takes his hand back, like your family always does because you’re so weak you can’t even handle being touched. But the hand only leaves for a moment before it’s back again, holding your cheek. you stand very, very still.

Is the fight over? It has to be. You almost had it before you got distracted and let yourself get hit. Maybe Isabeau and Odile got it while Mirabelle was healing you. He wouldn’t be touching you like this if the sadness was still attacking, back turned to where it stood.

He wipes the blood away from your eye, unstained hand doing a much better job than yours had. You still can’t see. You still can’t hear what any of them are saying. He sounds close to tears, though.

Ah. You know why you can’t see.

It clears your hearing. Fear, for some reason, leaves when you exhale. You breathe deep in, again, and a full sense of calmness fills the space of the fear you breathe out.

The blood hadn’t covered your eye, it was coming out of it. Stupid Siffrin didn’t pay attention to the fight and lost another eye.

Isabeau is cursing, voice wet with tears. His other hand cups your jaw, keeping your head in place. He wipes more blood away, touching your eyeball with so much gentleness you feel it should heal it. Mirabelle crafts another healing spell, and Odile asks Bonnie for the one sweet tonic you picked up this loop.

You pick up your wooden arms, raising them slowly, like through a thick fog, to land your hands on Isabeau’s. He drops his hands from your face. You’re speaking to your whole party when you say, “It won’t work.”

Bonnie sobs. Someone, likely Odile, pours a tonic on your eye anyway.

You just need to get to a frozen tear. You don’t remember where they are, but maybe you could convince your family to lead you to one. If you could find some excuse. Or just swing your arms around until you hit one.

“The head housemaiden could heal you,” Mirabelle whispers, voice just as teary as Isabeau’s. “I should have taken more healing classes. Studied more on my own. I can’t do it. And by the time we get to her...”

She trails of. Crafts another healing cure. It works just as well as the others.

Healing of this scale needs to be done quick. You know, because you all talked about it when you lost your first eye, and when Isabeau showed you a small scar on his bicep. Go more than an hour or two without the right healing craft, and it’ll be permanent.

An idea lights up in your mind. You turn your head, but it all stays black, and you can’t look anyone in the eye.

“We can find a tear. Freeze me.” It’s so perfect. You almost have to stop yourself from grinning. The best excuse you could have ever asked for. “when you beat the king and everyone unfreezes, someone can help me.”

The lie is easy, as easy as all the others you’ve filled these two days with. They won’t beat the king without you. You won’t unfreeze with everyone else, and the head housemaiden will never help you. But you need to see to fight, and you need to loop to see, and you need a tear to loop.

It’s quiet for a moment. “Will that work?” Odile asks, voice strangely soft.

“It’s worth a try.”

“We’ll find a tear!” Bonnie yells. They either stamp their foot or jump in place. “We’ll defeat the king and you’ll get your eye back!” their voice is still wet. You don’t know why. Are they scared of fighting the king without you? Now you’re thinking about the loop you let them go alone. Stars, you really are an awful person. Of course they’re scared when you can’t keep fighting, and just before the king, too.

“Let’s bandage it until then.” Mirabelle says, and a piece of cloth presses against your face. It’s nice and cool. “Your coat is all dark know.”

Odile, you think, listening to the footsteps, start walking. “We can’t go back,” she says, “hopefully there will be some tears further in.”

You walk after her. The corridor is as familiar to you as the rest of this blinding house. You don’t need an eye to know the way.

Isabeau still hovers beside you, steps heavy but careful. He doesn’t offer to guide you, probably afraid to touch you, but you can imagine his arm reaching out, hovering above your shoulder, ready to steer you away from the walls or the floor or what else you might kill yourself on. Fragile little Siffrin, can’t walk on his own.

Bonnie is to your other side, rushing ahead for two steps at a time before falling back again, never straying far. They hiccup, and audibly sniff their snot in. You feel awful. The tear is close. You just need to loop.

Mirabelle walks in front of you with Odile. You can almost feel her continuously looking back at you, footsteps irregular in that familiar pattern. You don’t know why it’s familiar, and when you try to remember, it slips away like lightless sand between your fingers.

The air is tense. You slip into your mind, a little. Claude is up ahead, frozen in time with the secret ingredient. You turn a corner, and don’t think about how strange it looks to your family for you to walk through the corridor like this. Isabeau calling you graceful is there, memory pushing itself to the front of your mind, but you don’t force yourself to act as if you don’t know this place better than yourself. They won’t remember.

“Does it hurt?” Bonnie whispers besides you. You instinctively look towards them, but still see nothing but darkness around you. “Sorry, stupid question. Of course it hurts.” Their voice is still wet. They sniffle. “You just act like it doesn’t.”

You’ve been acting a lot. Almost everything feels like a secret, a lie, a play. This isn’t one of them. “It’s just an eye.”

It’s the wrong thing to say.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN JUST AN EYE?!” Bonnie yells, and their voice is still wet, but it cracks in fury. “You always do this, you don’t care about anything! It’s your eye, you can’t see, you lost both of them now! You have to care!”

They hate you. You remember, now, that they don’t love you. You couldn’t get yourself to help them this loop, too tired from hearing the same thing again and again and again. In this moment, Bonnie hasn’t hugged you. In this moment, you haven’t talked with Bonnie about losing your first eye. In this moment, they still hate you.

But it’s fine. You’re on your way to a tear. You’ve all been walking this stretch for a while, Mirabelle should see Claude soon, and then they’ll find the safe room, and after that - you think you’ve seen tears there before.

“It’s just an eye,” you say again, because you can’t bring yourself to pretend any differently, that it matters to you more than having to loop and run through the third floor again. “I’ve lost worse.”

Bonnie doesn’t respond. Claude has to be here soon, right? Was she always this deep in the corridor?

"How is your eyes not the worst thing you've lost?" Mirabelle asks, so quiet you almost don’t hear her. The kind of question she doesn’t expect a response to.

You shouldn’t respond. You don’t want to respond. How can you. You can’t speak it’s name, can’t tell them anything about it, and you already didn’t help Odile this loop because you couldn’t bring yourself to follow the blinding script again when she won’t understand and won’t remember and won’t care.

“I lost my home,” you say anyway, because it’s all one big cosmic joke. They won’t remember anyway. It doesn’t matter. “And I don’t even remember it.”

Does your country matter, if no one remembers it?

Isabeau speaks up, always the emotionally mature one. “I’m sorry, that sounds awful.”

“You never remember anything,” Bonnie sniffles, sounding tired. The kind of exhausted you get calming down from crying. You wish your stupid eye would let you cry.

You’ve already broken the dam. It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter. “I don’t.” Isabeau tugs at you cloak, pulling you slightly towards him. He lets you go, a meter more to the left of the corridor than before, and doesn’t explain anything. You don’t ask.

“Not even the word for a stuffed animal. Or a sharpening stone, which you use all the time. Or bananas.” It seems to calm Bonnie down, listing all the things you don’t remember. You follow along.

“Not the name for all the birds in Dormount. What bonding earring are. What we did last week. My family. My country. Your names, that one time.”

It doesn’t calm you down. Or the others, for that matter. Isabeau stopped walking. The other three follow suit.

You stop too, because the others did. Then you wish you had kept going, because now you’re just standing here, and you still can’t see anything.

“Sif...” Isabeau starts, soft and careful. “I’m sorry. We’ve been poking fun at your memory, but this... We need to talk, after we beat the king.”

You don’t want to talk. Have you already made the pun on your memory this loop? Bonnie said you couldn’t remember the name, so probably, you need something else, something to divert the attention, it doesn’t matter because they’ll forget but right now they remember and you don’t want to talk.

“Aren’t there any tears here?” You ask, and it comes out harsher than you planned.

“Oh! No, not yet, but there’s a door here, maybe on the other side?” Mirabelle sounds nervous and jumpy. Did you do that? Stars, you’re awful.

Then you think. There’s a door, and you hear someone open it. Claude was before the door. She was, you know it, you can’t have forgotten that, Mirabelle stops you all and says the same thing every time.

Did you all walk past her? Did... did Mirabelle change the script? Because you’re blind now?

Your head hurts. You walk towards the door, and only need to follow the wall for a moment before you reach it, having been pulled from the middle of the corridor by Isabeau. Was that.... because of Claude? Did he pull you out of the way?

When Mirabelle tells everyone to hurry through the safe room, they do so. No one talks about taking a break, and Odile’s stomach doesn’t rumble. You’re through the room without eating or touching the star.

“There!” Bonnie yells, first out of the second door.

“A tear,” Odile says simply. “Two, actually. Pick your poison, Siffrin.”

You chuckle, just a little. Lean right. But you don’t actually know where in the room the tears are. You just know the door to the king is straight ahead.

“Can I lead you to it?” Isabeau offers. You empty your mind, think of nothing, and hold out your hand.

He guides you in an arch. Let’s go of your hand. You reach out, and dream of nothing.

[project-sekai-facts]

helloo

if you want too could you do a relationship analysis for Mafuyu and Kanade? you’re very good at turning thoughts into words and i feel they’ve got a really interesting dynamic.

Kanade and Mafuyu’s relationship is complicated, to say the least. I often see people write their dynamic off as toxic and the thing is, that’s not necessarily untrue. Less so where we are now, but it’s not wrong if you’re reading events pre-Carnation Recollection.

Here’s how it works. Mafuyu and Kanade are both severely depressed, both have been suicidal at points. They are not healthy. They found each other, both of them being people that life hadn’t been kind to. They don’t talk about it, though. When they do, they become dependent on each other to live. It’s not healthy.

Kanade’s talent caused her father to overwork himself into a coma, leaving her with a saviour complex. She hurt her father with her music, she’s never going to let it hurt anyone again. She forms Niigo in hopes that she’ll save someone, and she does. She saves Ena, she saves Mizuki, but it’s not enough. When Mafuyu is on the brink of giving it all up, Kanade promises to keep composing until she can save Mafuyu. She projects her complex onto Mafuyu.

Mafuyu wants to die during the main story, but Kanade’s song is able to get through to her. It doesn’t save her by any means, but it left enough of a mark on her to manifest into the SEKAI. Kanade promises to save her. Someone cares, someone is willing to help. But how can anyone help Mafuyu when she can’t help herself, when she can’t help them help her. She doesn’t know what she feels, she doesn’t even know she can feel anything. But Kanade believes there’s more below the surface, more to keep searching for.

Kanade needs to save someone, Mafuyu needs saving.

None of the songs save Mafuyu, they barely have an effect on her, so Kanade keeps going, and going, and going. She needs to save Mafuyu because she wants her music to save people. It doesn't have to be Mafuyu that she saves, Mafuyu just happens to be there.

However, Carnation Recollection brings some changes. Here, we have the arrival of Luka. Luka who’s honest, not afraid to push the N25 members when they need to be pushed. She tells Kanade that her song will not save Mafuyu. Why is she doing this? What does she want this song to achieve? What does she want Mafuyu to see and realise with this song?

She realises later on that the difference between her music and her father's music is that his had warmth. Warmth because he wanted his music to make Kanade and her mother smile.

So what does she want? Well she doesn't want Mafuyu to disappear, but that's because she's projecting her personal losses and complex onto Mafuyu. She wants Mafuyu to stay alive so she doesn't get hurt.

The better question is how does she want Mafuyu to feel? What does she want Mafuyu to do with this song? She wants Mafuyu to find herself, but Kanade doesn't know who Mafuyu is. She remembers Luka's words, and thinks about what she wants Mafuyu to feel. She wants Mafuyu to feel the same way her mother did when listening to her father's music. She wants Mafuyu to smile. It's still personally driven, but it's an improvement, she's growing. This isn't just for her anymore. And it works, Mafuyu feels something, she feels warm. It's different from the coldness she's felt her whole life.

Mafuyu's life lacks any warmth, Mirage of Lights makes this clear. Her mother is cold, she doesn't care about Mafuyu, she just cares about what Mafuyu is. Talented, smart, overachieving; that's what she cares about. Mafuyu is just a vessel for her to project the perfect child onto.

Kanade's song made her feel something new. She's not sure how or why but she wants to find out. After looking at a photo album from when she was a child, she realises that she was able to feel emotions differently back then. Kanade's song managed to chip at the person she once was.

When Mafuyu falls ill, Kanade looks after her. Not for her own needs but because she cares. Mafuyu feels something again, the same warmth and love her mother used to give her before everything went bitter. It's something she hasn't felt in a long time.

It's here where holding hands becomes something of a recurring thing for the two of them. While the Gunjou Sanka MV illustrates this, this is the first time it's actually in the original text. Kanade holds Mafuyu's hand until she falls asleep because she cares, she wants to make Mafuyu feel better, she wants her to smile. All the things her mother used to do for her. All the things she doesn't have anymore.

What was once dependence becomes something else. Trust, solace, refuge.

Don't worry. I'll stay right here. Here, hold my hand. I won't let you be all alone. I won't go anywhere…

I want you to feel what I did. I want you to smile the way I did back then.

I think I can keep moving forward. Right, Kanade…?

At one point during Intersecting Melodies, Glowing Warmth, Honami calls Mafuyu Kanade's friend. Kanade seems surprised, maybe a little confused by that. But at this point I think that's what they are. They aren't just acquaintances or groupmates anymore, it's not just Kanade trying to save Mafuyu. It's Kanade genuinely caring for Mafuyu, trying to make her smile and feel. It's Mafuyu who's grateful for Kanade's care and determination. Later on in that event, Mafuyu seems to realise the same thing. Seeing Kanade happy makes her feel warm, helping Kanade makes her feel warm.

The next time they hold hands is in Guiding a Lost Child to What Lies Beyond. It's warm again. Kanade helps her, the rest of N25 are kind to her and help her. It's nothing like she feels at home. She's not afraid of them. It's home.

By immiscible discord it becomes truly apparent that Mafuyu's mother doesn't care about her. Everything she does makes her daughter hurt, more and more, it's cold and painful. But Kanade is the warmth to fight back against that cold. She remembers her own parents, her family. They wanted the best for each other, they wanted each other to smile. It was happy, comforting. Warm. Mafuyu doesn't have that, but Kanade is determined to let her have it, even if her actual family isn't involved. Kanade promises to stay by Mafuyu's side, because she cares her. She loves her more than her mother ever could.

And then by Saying Goodbye to My Masked Self, Mrs Asahina views Kanade as an enemy. She outright says to Mafuyu at one point that she loves her, not Kanade. She only wants what's best for her. But she doesn't. The person who truly cares, understands, wants to help her, and loves her...

is Kanade

When Mafuyu runs away, she goes to Kanade. She knows where Ena lives, Ena had even said that she would probably be able to take Mafuyu. But Mafuyu goes to Kanade. Kanade is home, her real one, more than her family.

Where we are in the game now, it's clear that they are very important to each other. In fact, they're probably the most important people to each other. Kanade's family cannot take care of her, but they love her. Mafuyu's family doesn't truly love her, but they can take care of her.

Neither of them are really in a good state to do it, but they can take care of each other.

---

Kanade and Mafuyu's relationship isn't an entirely healthy one. It's comes from a foundation that makes their relationship a potentially toxic one, but they learn to heal. Healing is what their dynamic is about. Kanade projects her complex onto Mafuyu, Mafuyu is dependent on Kanade to live. It's not healthy, but they heal together.

Kanade realises her selfish goals, she reworks them. She doesn't just want Mafuyu to survive, she wants her to live. She wants to see her smile, she wants to see her be happy. Mafuyu experiences a sense of comfort with Kanade for the first time in years. They grow to be friends rather than just acquaintances, the complete dependency wears away into something closer to trust, comfort. A mutual bond that's hard to pin down but is built from a developing love.

Kanade and Mafuyu are opposites. Everything about their lives is opposite, though it all links back to warmth vs coldness. A happy family who loves each other vs a "happy family" who loves the concept of what their child is. A warm person who makes music vs an icy person who takes it away. Asahina vs Yoisaki.

Despite all of that, they both hurt. Their pain is different but they can relate to how it feels. Neither of them want to hurt anymore, and it becomes neither of them wanting the other to hurt anymore.

Kanade and Mafuyu's relationship is complex. It was started by a complex. But I think looking at it now, it's much more than it started out as.

[honeycreammilkshake]

Fun fact, in chainsawman the protagonist pities one villain and eats them, later that villain reappears as a little kid

Gege is also friend of Fujimoto (chainsawman) I wonder if he will do the same for Jjk and have some kid sukuna appearing

Omg, anon! That's such an amazing idea.

Honestly, I really liked what was going on between Makima and Denji... and now that I think about it, it's because there are a lot of parallels between them and Sukuita.

To answer your ask, I wouldn't be surprised if we get a similar fate for our cursed boys. Reincarnation has been a very interesting theme in JJK, especially in the Culling Game arc and how cursed spirits can keep re-manifesting (like the csm devils do). And it makes me think it's a very viable option for both Sukuna and Yuuji.

This scene was heartbreaking because Sukuna chose death over love, but I don't think Yuuji's letting him go that easy. Even if Sukuna currently cannot come back as himself, there's a chance he might get reincarnated. Yuuji says "Let's try again" which could in fact refer to starting life all over again from the start. Either way, no matter what fate Sukuna is dealt, Yuuji is waiting with open arms to receive him. He is the only one who can and wants to live with Sukuna, after all.

But to bring it back to Makima and Denji, what I find really fascinating is their relationship even after Makima is revealed to be the Control Devil. During their last fight, Denji finally manages to overpower her. Despite everything, though, he was still in love with her... which is why he ate her.

He cannot forgive Makima for killing everyone else, but he does say he can share in her sins.

It's much like the scene between Sukuna and Yuuji, where Yuuji literally offers to bear the curse alongside Sukuna, to accept him and live with him even if no one else can.

Cannibalism as a form of love is a common theme in poetry (which is very fitting when you realize Sukuna is both a cannibal and poetry snob himself) and is also associated with the consumption of those you want to keep close to you as explored very well in Chainsaw Man.

So that's why I'm also wondering... maybe in the end Yuuji will ultimately force Sukuna back inside of him? If not reincarnation, there's also a chance that he'll do what he did at the start of this whole story and consume the curse of Sukuna again. It would be a very fitting and symbolic ending, one that perfectly reflects the beginning, and it makes sense that someone determined like Yuuji wouldn't take no as an answer to his offer of compassion.

It's clear to me that Yuuji cares about Sukuna. And he might just care enough to consume Sukuna and let him resurrect inside of Yuuji's body once more.

Thank you for sharing your amazing thoughts, anon <3

[moralcandy]

what would you do if i was a scarred, morally grey man, and you were an ancient being viewing thousands of millennias from in the dirt. and i found you and took advantage of your trust, but then slowly, accidentally, i grew to care for you. maybe love you. and i taught you what it means to be human, and you taught me that what i leave behind is all people will know of me years on. that they will know me as the hurt vice president who was in love with a drunken, abusive president. that they will know me as the poor fool who just keeps falling in love, who fell in love with two forgetful men. that they will know me as icarus, flying too close to the sun, trying to kill what cannot be killed and paying the price. that i will be remembered as the man who wielded a pickaxe with a bone-white grip and grinned with a missing tooth, who was so close to revenge, and had it taken away. that i will be known as a torturer, a manipulator, a fool. that i will be remembered as someone who was so close, so close to healing, a realization.

that i will be known as the man who watched as you fell by a traitor's hand, and saw you burn. that when you come back, i'll be remembered as the man who fell the same way you did, careening hundreds of feet into demise. only this time, my doom was of my own creation, of molding what should not be molded into something malleable, agreeable, naive and accepting. and maybe, when you push me off of that tower we've talked on so many times before, maybe your hand will push me off of that ledge lovingly, apologetically. perhaps it will grasp at the buttons of my shirt for a second more, savouring it bittersweetly. maybe, instead, it'll grip the fabric harshly, with vindication. but i don't think that's you.

and maybe, after everything, you will come back again. and maybe we will rebuild the city we made together. and maybe i can learn what its like to live. and maybe you can learn that humanity is cruel, and disgusting, yet loving, and growing. and maybe we'll be remembered as the creators of a bright, thriving nation. maybe, we'll learn what it's like to love.

anyway would that be crazy or what

[daisyofwaterdeep]

Hi again!🥰 I really like Dammon/Rolan or m!Tav(preferably dragonborn)/Emp, and I do like smut... Maybe you could write something about exploring each other, sensual slow touching?..😌 (I also can write smth for you in return, if you wish😚)

I'm gonna go with the Dammon/Rolan, I haven't played a dragonborn yet or read up on them </3 (and I've had a little idea for the two of the tieflings that's been kicking around since I saw this ask hghghg) (this perhaps isn't as sexy as you had wanted, but my feelings got in the way and it evolved into...this. gomen ;o;) ____ Dammon seems more reserved than usual. He's always so quick to smile, always so eager to help. But now, on this most important day, the tiefling seems reserved, almost skittish. Rolan tries to not let it bother him, but it does. A great deal, in fact.

Rolan ponders the odd behavior as he watches Dammon set out his selection of armor across the table, meticulous as he is with all things. "Don't bother with the chainmail," Rolan comments over Dammon's shoulder, "It will only serve to slow me down. And it chafes something fierce." Dammon looks as if he's going to say something, his tail flicking back in forth and his shoulders tense, but he reluctantly relents and forgoes any heavy armor in his selection. When everything is finally on display, Dammon takes a step to the side, a small, tight smile and an accompanying gesture welcoming Rolan to peruse. "Is this all you have?" Rolan frowns as he comes forward, the four pieces of leather armor not giving him much to look at.

"It is," Dammon wrings his hands in front of himself, watching as Rolan picks up a well worn chest plate and inspects it, "Many been getting ready for the trip, so there's not much left." A weighted silence draws between them before Dammon clears his throat. "So you...Cal and Lia as well..." "Yes," Rolan doesn't wait for him to finish the fumbled question, "We are leaving."

"Yes," Dammon says on a laugh, but it's short and humorless, "Yes of course you are." He shakes his head, as if dislodging a pesky thought, "I suppose if anyone would be able to lead the tieflings to safety, it would be you." Rolan feels an ugly curl of annoyance heat his stomach and knows that his face reflects it. He can understand how impromptu this whole situation is, but sitting idly by isn't going to fix anything. The druids are going to kick them out--that is, if the goblins don't come to slaughter them all first. And yet so many still sit around twiddling their thumbs, as if an answer to their problems will fall miraculously into their laps. The fact that Dammon is amongst this group is a surprise to him. But on top of that, Dammon has the gall to doubt Rolan. It pisses him off. "Speak your mind, Dammon," Rolan sets the armor down and purses his lips as he fights to maintain an even tone, "You obviously have something more you wish to say." Pale blue eyes zip over Rolan's face, fall to the ground, then reluctantly return. Dammon swallows thickly and speaks carefully, slowly, quietly. "I'm just worried. Not just for you, but for all of us." The annoyance building in Rolan's gut fizzles out entirely. There's a tremble in Dammon's voice that makes Rolan ache-- the familiar feeling of uncertainty, of a fear so encompassing that it risks consuming everything if left unchecked.

Rolan takes a quiet moment to rein in the feeling before squaring his shoulders and stepping towards the other tiefling, bringing Dammon's face close to his own. "Come with us," He matches Dammon's low tone, trying to convey some sense of comfort, of confidence, "I'll protect you. I'll protect all of us." Dammon clearly still has more to say, but the words don't come. Instead, warm, calloused hands rest on Rolan's shoulders. The touch is surprising. Rolan and Dammon have always had an amicable sort of relationship-- nods across the grove, light-hearted chats, an undiscussed but not overlooked discount on weapons. Rolan doesn't believe they've ever touched, though, as casual as their companionship has been.

But as those blue eyes look into his own, something seems to click into place for Rolan. There has been something more, hasn't there? Looks that lingered for a beat too long, smiles that turned bashful, tones that could certainly be more than just friendly.

Rolan had been too wrapped up in everything around him that it hadn't occured to him until this very moment.

There's something between them. At some point, Dammon had become his friend. And at some point, those fond feelings had deepened, so naturally and innocuously that Rolan hadn't realized.

Rolan cares for this man. And the heavy, warm feeling of the hands on his shoulders is like a deep, gasping breath, the relief of an ache in his body that he had grown so accustomed to that the pain had stopped registering long ago.

"Dammon," Rolan says it on a soft breath, and it sends a shiver down his spine that tingles into a pleasant heat.

There's a light in Dammon's eyes at that, and those big hands roam down, feeling over the curve of Rolan's chest. Rolan's revelation must be written across his face, because Dammon looks over the moon-- just how long had he waited for Rolan to realize? Far too long, it seems.

There's privacy to consider, and general decorum, but Rolan's been plunged into something so profound that for the first time in his life, he's not worried about appearances. If any of his fellow tieflings are watching his hands grab Dammon's waist, he isn't aware. Nor is he aware of their reactions when he places his forehead against Dammon's, eyes rolling closed as their horns seem to slot perfectly between each other, as if they were made to hold each other close like this.

Two sets of hands roam, over backs, sides, chests, slow and with no purpose other than to feel-- there is an intimacy to it, and though there are warm pulses of arousal that light Rolan's senses, it's not the goal. This gentle exploration is a greeting into their new feelings, wordlessly saying that they are finally, finally on the same page. That the body they are feeling wants to belong to the other-- that it does belong to them, and that it has for a long time.

A distant cry breaks the reverie, however, and Rolan is snapped back to the reality at hand.

"Goblins at the gate!"

There's that ugly fear again, cutting through their shared warmth and collapsing them back into the real world.

But now, Rolan's resolve is able to trample that fear. He's going to protect those important to him-- no matter what it takes.

[tragedykery]

rating: G

relationships: Mai/Ty Lee (Avatar)

additional tags: Pre-Canon, Running Away, Late Night Conversations

word count: 2980

Ty Lee stays quiet, which is unusual. Normally she’s pointing out how pretty the moon looks by now, or gossiping about their classmates, or suggesting they stargaze. But instead, she has fixed her gaze to the horizon, brow furrowed. Mai wants to smooth it out.

After what feels like an eternity, Ty Lee speaks, keeping her eyes on the mountains that fade into nothingness far, far away. Her voice is a birdsong above the rustling of leaves below.

“I’m leaving.”

Oh.

[Mai and Ty Lee’s last night together at the Academy.]

written for @maileeweek day 6: running away

[azu1as]

dumb rotmhs fanfic idea where chung myung doesn't reincarnate and instead turns into a lost ghost on mount hua.

that is, until his spirit stumbles into yu iseol chasing after their lost plum blossoms technique that he begins to slowly regain his memories.

Got inspired by @dew-in-the-morning's tweet here!! You can also read the original fic thread :DD

»—————————–✄

yu iseol doesn't know who the one-armed stranger was. she had opted to ignore him when she first noticed his presence in the far distance upon arrival at the clearing. but he'd been observing her for almost two hours now, and it seemed as if he had no intentions to leave at all.

"come out." she tells the one-armed man, but frustratingly receives no response at all.

she makes a move towards him but he disappears within a blink.

a part of yu iseol becomes unsettled, but she decides to brush it off as nothing more than a one-off encounter.

she's quickly proven wrong.

the following night, she once again finds him in the same spot, facing her direction. it continues that way the next night until the next week. the man is consistently there and always leaves whenever yu iseol outwardly acknowledges his presence.

after almost two weeks of this occurring, yu iseol decides to stare just as intently at the man as he did at her sword.

she doesn't often feel conscious about how others perceived her, but something about the way the man's eyes visibly narrows when she swings or stabs her sword makes her every move feel like they were being scrutinized and dissected.

and that her results were unsatisfactory if the random clucks and tsks she hears off to the side whenever she overextends her swings were any indication.

the man's robes were clearly from mount hua. but she quickly realizes that what she initially thought were shadows on his garbs were actually dark blood stains.

then a sense of uneasiness washes over her when she notices that she could see the edges of a tree through him.

it seems that her nightly companion was some sort of supernatural entity.

she doesn't feel any true fear though because no amount of malice or resentment was ever turned her direction since she began seeing the man.

"who are you?" yu iseol finally asks.

but, as expected, the man disappears and she's left alone in the clearing.

%%%

"are there ghosts on mount hua?" yu iseol asks the sect leader much to his bemusement.

"perhaps." he replies to her after a beat passes. "what brought this on?"

yu iseol silently huffs at the admittedly lackluster reply, but responds politely, "i just saw something."

before she could turn away, the sect leader hums pensively and gently adds,

"maybe what you saw was the ghost of an ancestor watching over you."

clearly, it was intended to be an acknowledgement of her nightly sword training and visible efforts towards attaining mount hua's swordsmanship.

yu iseol, however, took the message quite differently.

that night, yu iseol lets out a breath and lowers her sword as she once again catches sight of the semi-translucent man observing her from behind a tree.

her attention zooms in on the bloodied embroidery of a plum blossom on his chest and the sword sheath strapped to his waist.

she steels herself as her eyes locks onto sharp, pink ones. she was certain that whoever this man had been, he was a strong swordsman with the way he held himself even in death.

and if the way he attentively observed her sword training was a potential indication....

"excuse me," yu iseol begins, fists clenched, "do you know how to make plum blossoms bloom?"

there was a long pause between them. for a moment, yu iseol worried that she was mistaken and that the spirit of this ancestor would disappear as he usually did.

but then the one-armed man steps forward for the first time into the clearing and replies by unsheathing his sword.

it glints against the moonlight despite its translucency and yu iseol knows that she couldn't miss the next moments no matter what.

the ghost of her ancestor holds it aloft in the air for a brief moment. And then he swings his sword into an arc.

in yu iseol's chest, the uncertain flicker of hope ignites into an unstoppable wildfire.

[imagoddamnonionmason]

Smooth Operator

Fandom: Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War

Word Count: 6112

Relationships: Bell OC/Frank Woods, Alex Mason/OC

Characters: Frank Woods, Alex Mason, Jodie Hall, Sarah Mason

Summary: This is an AU based off of the biker skin of Frank's from the Demon Dog bundle. It is probably my favourite skin and wanted to write something based off of it - however, the ideas I had didn't settle in the 'canon' world I have planned for Jodie, my Bell OC, so decided to do an AU instead. Essentially, he's a bit of a flirt and Jodie is just trying to work XD but it ends well!

Tagging: @alypink (I think I remember saying I'd tag you when I posted this- sorry if not ;u;)

The diner was a common stop for those who were on a lengthy journey, whether that be roadtrips or days out. Everyone who entered those double doors were patrons who had been on the road for too long and were in need of something to fuel the rest of their journey. 

The two men rode into the car park, having been riding the dips and occasional twists of the road for a little longer than anticipated and though Frank could have continued riding for longer, he agreed with Alex that a quick break wouldn’t hurt. 

The parking was easy, as they rolled their bikes into smaller bays near the front of the diner, pulling their helmets off and leaving them on the seats. Frank ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling away the flatness that the helmet had caused. His eyes moved over to his friend, who was already walking to the entrance. Pulling down the red neckerchief to rest under his chin, Frank said, “we’re only stoppin’ for a coffee.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I hear ya,” Alex waved over his shoulder, knowing full well that he was not only stopping for a coffee, but for a catch up with his favourite girl, Sarah. They’d met at that same diner months prior, on a different outing, and the two had been on a couple of dates. Frank knew he’d most likely end up getting caught there, watching the two chat away, being young and in love. He was happy for the guy, the girl seemed really sweet, but he wanted a coffee and then to get back on the road. 

Once the two were inside, he caught Alex scanning the space for the young woman in the corner of his eye and he couldn’t help the shake of his head. It seemed Sarah wasn’t out front yet. 

“Strange,” Alex commented, “she’s supposed to be working.” 

“You sound like a stalker,” Frank uttered, moving over to a booth in the corner - it was far enough away from the judgemental eyes of others, though he couldn’t give two shits about what other people thought, he just didn’t like people.

“I’d like to think I sound concerned,” Alex retorted, slumping into the seat opposite Frank, who was sitting in the seating that connected to the wall. He was watching everything, eyes narrow and hawk-like. 

It wasn’t long before a young woman came to stand at their table, a smile on her features that most definitely did not reach her eyes. It was forced and strained, like she had already decided that she hated the interaction before she’d even had it. She was a new face and the crisp new uniform made clear that she was a new waitress. It was a pale yellow pinafore that stopped just before the knees, accented with a  wide white rounded collar, short sleeves with a peaked trim and an apron. From the pockets of the apron, this woman pulled a small pad of paper and a pencil, holding them ready for an order. Even her tone signalled that she pulled no pleasure from the job, “what do you want?” 

Frank liked her immediately. 

He leant back into the seat, relaxed, as an enamoured smile grew on his lips, eyes lighting up a little. Alex spotted this, fighting the urge to kick Frank’s foot under the table and destabilise his current position, if only to torment the other in the face of his apparent attraction. Rather than reply himself, Alex let his friend do it, instead opting to peer over his shoulder and give the room a once-over again, still looking for Sarah. 

“Two coffees,” Frank answered, “are you new around here?” 

“Two coffees,” she echoed, scribbling it down on the pad, as she puffed a stray strand of hair that had fallen from her updo, “will you want sugar and milk?” 

Her eyes moved from the pad to look at Frank and it seemed to him that she didn’t care for his question. Honestly, she hadn’t really wanted to come over to serve them, if only because she had certain expectations influenced by their attire; they looked like they had ridden straight out of a biker gang and from what she had heard they were not the most civil of people. It’s why she was being so abrasive. 

“Sure,” he said, his elbow now resting on the table and his knuckles just resting at his temple as he leaned, his eyes steadily watching how she moved. She was beautiful, in a way that seemed effortless for her, from her reddened lips, the long lashes, the slight creases of dimples at the corners of her mouth when she spoke. Even as she stood, hip cocked out to one side as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, all he could think about was how attractive she was. 

What caught him the most, though, were her eyes. They were a dark brown, with small flecks of honey, and when they were on him he felt a warmth rush over him. They were soft, kind, with a slight sense of tiredness clinging to the hue. He didn’t want her to look away. 

Maybe he could understand Alex a little more; though Frank thought that he only wanted the fun of the chase. 

“Would you like the same?” she now moved her eyes from him and that warmth left, now shared with Alex who hummed in response to her. He hadn’t fully caught the question, but offered her an easy smile before he realised what had been asked. She seemed a little softer on the other, as she let out a little sigh and waited patiently. Alex replied, “neither for me.” 

“Alright,” she hummed, offering that tight smile from before, “do either of you want anything from the menu?” 

“What do you recommend?” Frank asked, turning his body so that he was now fully engaged with speaking with her. 

“If I’m honest, the only thing that’s good here are the waffles.” She admitted, then looked him up and down, “but you don’t seem like the waffle kind of guy.” 

“You’d be right,” Frank admitted, laughing slightly, “I’ll stick with the coffee.” 

The smile she wore relaxed a little and she offered it to Frank somewhat apologetically; she hadn’t really meant to be so blunt. When she turned to Alex, he offered that he was also fine with only the coffee. With the order taken, she stepped back and tapped her pencil to the pad a couple times, before she turned on her heel and left.

As she walked away, Frank watched after her, a mischievous look in his eye as though he’d made a decision about something. Alex knew his friend well, knew that he’d decided he was going to leave with that woman’s number, which caused him to laugh, “that’s not goin’ to happen, Frank.” 

“What do you know?” His response was quick, accentuated with the slight furrow of his brows as he tugged on the neckerchief around his neck. 

“I know that you’re goin’ to get rejected by that woman over there,” Alex jutted his thumb out in her direction, as they both peered over at her again. 

She was now settled behind the counter, working away at brewing their coffee. To her right, the doors that lead into the kitchen opened and Sarah appeared. The smaller woman was chipper, but in the way that a person was using it to hide the tiredness that wracked their body and though some might find the compensation a little annoying, the new waitress seemed to relax once this bright presence joined her at her side. 

“Sorry for leavin’ you to deal with the floor for that long,” Sarah chirped, giving the woman’s arm a quick reassuring squeeze, “who’ve we got in then, Jodie?” 

Jodie kept her attention on the coffee pot, but answered Sarah’s question, “there’s a family on table eight, they weren’t ready to order when I greeted them, so you might want to try them next. Table thirteen has a couple, their order is in the kitchen.” 

Once the coffee was finished brewing, she grabbed the pot as well as two empty mugs, “then this is for the two guys at table 20, over in the corner.” Using her head to indicate the direction, Jodie added, “I think one of them is going to try to flirt.” 

“Oh dear,” Sarah followed her, then spotted Alex and, by extension, Frank, “oh dear.” 

A warm, mirthful smile formed on her lips as a giggle bubbled in her throat. Sarah leant toward Jodie, who naturally ducked her head closer as she anticipated her friend’s whispering, “that’s the guy I was tellin’ you about, you know, the one that…” 

“Oh?” Jodie moved away to look at Sarah’s face, brows furrowed as she silently questioned her meaning. The smaller woman raised an eyebrow as she bit her lip, impishly. Jodie then remembered a conversation they had a bit back, about a little visit Sarah had received and what they had gotten up to, “Sarah!” 

“Isn’t he handsome?” Sarah responded, leaning on the countertop and sighing dreamily, before she snapped out of it to add with a shrug, “Frank’s not too bad lookin’, either, sweetheart, he seems like he’d be your type.” 

“My type,” Jodie scoffed, “my type is not… that.” She had gestured in the men’s general direction, eyes casting over them as she then caught herself focusing on the man in question. From there, she couldn’t see how one would think he was anything like the kind of person she would go for. He looked like a delinquent, someone who made mischief for the sake of it. No, she couldn’t find him attractive. 

“Oh, come on, Jodie,” Sarah heaved dramatically, “if he’s flirtin’ with you there ain’t no harm in flirtin’ back. It’s how Alex and I started datin’.” 

Jodie chuckled, “you can have them. Save me the pain because I’m not flirting.” 

“I think I’ll let you keep ‘em,” Sarah said, nudging the other’s shoulder with her own as her tone lilted teasingly, “just have fun with it, you’ll be fine.” 

“Sarah, I’m not going to flirt-” 

“I’m headin’ over to table eight, honey,” she grinned as she moved away before Jodie could protest further, then offered a slight wave over towards Alex and Frank. Alex waved back, then ducked his head to hide the smile on his face. Jodie watched this interaction, remaining standing behind the counter with the pot of coffee and mugs in hand, wishing that Sarah could have left her with the family. 

She looked over to the men once again and at the same time Frank turned to look at her. He was mid conversation with his friend, but his words were then enveloped by the smile on his face. In response to him, she scrunched up her nose, refusing to give in to his charm. So what if he was flirting, or smiling at her? She didn’t care. Jodie was just there to serve coffee and earn money.

At the table, Jodie placed the mugs down first, then the coffee pot. As she did these things, she felt his eyes watching her as steadily as they had when she’d first spoken with them. He spoke, voice erring with a gruffness that Jodie felt could only suit him, “what do we call you, doll?” 

“Not that,” she replied, hotly, as she gently slid over one of the mugs to Alex. She had decided that he wasn’t so bad, given that he was dating her friend; if he was good enough for Sarah, Jodie felt like she could cut him some slack. She received a smile in return as thanks. 

“Well I can’t call you nothin’, can I?” he replied. 

“You could,” she replied, sliding his mug to him sharply. Frank caught it quickly, then shot her a mischievous grin. 

“I’ll just have to stick with doll then, won’t I?” 

Her eyes locked with his momentarily and she pursed her lips. Now that Sarah had pointed it out, Jodie hated to admit that he was, unfortunately, attractive. His eyes were sharp, icy blue and the devilish glint in them had her heart in the beginning motions of a flutter. It could have been the slight edge to his tone, daring her to protest against him. It could have been the way his tongue flickered over his bottom lip before he started talking to her, drawing her eyes down to them, captured- 

 No. Jodie was not paid to flirt. She was paid to serve coffee and tea and shitty diner food. She was not going to flirt with him. 

“Enjoy your coffee,” she said, sharply, then offered Alex a little smile, “if you need anything, shout Sarah.” 

Before Frank had time to counter, she was walking away and Alex laughed out loud. He had poured himself a mug, the steam momentarily obscuring his vision of Frank, but he could imagine the look on his face. When he finally checked if his assumption was right, he was surprised by the fact that Frank was so obviously watching her ass. A kick from Alex snapped Frank from his current task of watching her swinging hips, so that he could then watch his friend silently laugh at him, “time to give up, buddy.” 

With a slight grimace, Frank side-eyed Alex, a look of disdain on his features. There was a slight shake of his head, then he checked the tabletop for the milk and sugar he’d asked for; the table was vacant of these things. 

“Seems like I have one more chance,” Frank uttered, “then and only then will I take the loss.” 

Alex rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue, as he then followed the image of his friend’s retreating form. He shook his head, though there was a fond mirth to the crease of his eyes that formed when he found himself grinning. As he rested an arm over the back of the booth’s seating, he caught the eye of Sarah, who in turn was grinning from ear to ear at the sight of Frank at the counter. She waved her hand giddily to Alex, jutting her thumb in their direction before she dramatically put her hand to her chest in shock. Alex shrugged in response, before he turned back to finish his coffee. 

At the counter, Jodie was spritzing the surface with cleaner, then sweeping in large circles to clean the countertop. Really, this was to make herself look busy, as she had seen movement in the corner of her eye. Frank had come to lean against the counter, one arm resting on the surface as his free hand hooked into his pocket. He cleared his throat, the ghost of a smirk on his face. 

“What do you want?” She asked, heaving a sigh and resting the knuckles of her hands on her hips, still holding a cloth in one hand. 

“So cold,” he said, “ya like this with all your customers?” 

“Not all of them,” she replied, returning to cleaning, “just some.” 

“I feel honoured,” he chuckled. 

“Don’t,” she pursed her lips, before she added, “if you came over here just for a chat, I’ll have to disappoint-”

“Actually, I came over because you forgot the extras.” He admitted, pointing to the milk and sugar that had been set aside by the coffee machine. Her eyes followed the guidance, then she sucked air in quickly between her teeth. 

Apologetically, she gathered them, then offered them to him by sliding them across the counter to him, “sorry about that. Is there anything else you’d like?” 

Hovering in place, his eyes reluctantly dropped from her face and down to the milk, offered in a little pot, and sugar packets. Then he looked back up at her; there was that same impish glint in his eyes, the subtle uplift of the corner of his mouth as he wrapped his knuckles on the counter’s surface. He wondered whether he should take his last shot, even if he risked being rejected by the beautiful woman. 

“Yeah, actually,” he decided, watching her features for any furtive tell that he had the go ahead to ask. The slight quirk of her brows, thrown up in an urge for him to continue had him adding, “I really would like to put a pretty name to a pretty face, doll. Maybe even a number.” 

Jodie slapped the cloth in her hand down on the counter, looking up at the other with a slight twitch to the corner of her eyes, as they narrowed on him coolly. Honestly, he was charming, handsome, anyone would have swooned already, but Jodie had come too far to let herself collapse in the face of his allure. She was too prideful. So, she countered, heaving the words through and past her teeth as her eyes dropped down to his lips again. They flickered away, down to her hands, to anywhere other than him. Her tone was clipped, “if I had a dollar for every time a man like you asked me for my number, I wouldn’t have to work here.” 

“JODIE.” A gruff voice from the kitchen shouted, the tones howling and grieved with annoyance. There was a look on her face that signalled she’d prefer to do anything than go back there and face whoever was yelling, but when her name was called again, harsher this time, she shouted back, “yes! I heard you.” 

Turning on her heel, she called out to Sarah, “will you watch the floor?” 

“I got’cha, girl,” Sarah hollered in her southern tones, though she was watching after the double doors once Jodie had disappeared through them. Moving between the tables, Sarah then came to stand beside Frank, nudging his arm slightly, “her plate’s pretty full.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“She’s also ain’t used to pretty guys flirtin’ with her,” Sarah chuckled, “you got her all flustered.” 

“Right…” Frank became acutely aware that there were raised voices coming from the back, too muffled to really understand what was being said. He asked, “that a manager yellin’ or somethin’ back there?” 

“Oh, that guy?” Sarah began walking back to Frank’s booth with him, eyes watching the other patrons to make sure no one wanted her attention, before she came to stand beside Alex. He was still seated, but soon snuck his hand around her upper legs, hand resting on her hip. Both of the men signalled they were listening to her, Alex quickly catching up with what they were talking about. 

“Oh, he’s an asshole,” Sarah mentioned, “always yellin’. He just likes to feel special, you know? He takes out any stress on us girls, though.”

“Really?” Alex questioned, looking up at the woman with a slight surprise on his face, as this was the first time he was hearing about the problem. 

“Yeah, I worked here long enough to tell him where he can put his attitude,” she leant forward a little bit, “but Jodie ain’t been here too long, so he thinks he can get away with it. Tell you what, I never seen a waitress get called back there as much as her… I feel sorry for her most of the time and there ain’t nothin’ I can do about it.” 

Frank let his eyes rest on Alex for a moment, lips pursed in a contemplative look, as Alex seemed to share the same thought; neither of them liked what they were hearing. 

There was a clatter that drew the attention of everyone in the diner, as the double doors from the kitchen flung open in a fury. Jodie, who held a coat folded over her arm, a bag over her right shoulder and car keys handing on her fingers, was storming through the diner and out into the car park. Whatever had been discussed had bought an early end to her shift and left her features set in a furious storm. 

“Oh dear,” Sarah grumbled, as Alex rubbed circles on her hip, “he’s gone and done it again…” 

“Need me to have a word?” Frank uttered, bitterly, watching as Jodie got into her car and drove away. 

“He’s not the kinda guy that’s gonna change,” she huffed. 

Catching Frank’s gaze, Alex’s jaw was set, tense, “we can be persuasive.” 

A slight tap to his shoulder and she was gently chiding him, “you stop that. I ain’t havin’ any of that here, got it?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Sarah, do I pay you to stand around and do nothing?” That same voice from the back was now at the counter, near the till, and it belonged to a short, portly, balding man who was sweating buckets. He wiped his brow, before he gestured aggressively for her to move away from the men and get back to work. 

Alex’s arm was no longer around her, as he had started to rise up from his seat; Frank made no move to stop him. Sarah, however, was urging him to sit back down and only when she made sure he was looking at her, a nod of her head to say that she was fine, did Alex do just that. But not before he sent the manager a very hard, cold stare. 

________

From that point on, the diner felt tense, strange. Half an hour had passed and Frank decided it was time to leave, though Alex waited behind for his partner. He’d mentioned that he didn’t feel comfortable leaving her alone, that he wanted to make sure she got home safely; Frank had scoffed, commenting something along the lines of ‘ever the gentleman’ in a good natured jab. 

 So, after saying bye, Frank had headed from the diner, from the shitty manager and his friends by himself, traversing the road alone. It stretched for miles and eventually there was a small blot of colour on the oncoming horizon of what seemed to be a broken down vehicle. For a moment, Frank felt sorry for the poor bastard who’d got stuck at the side of the road, but had no intention of stopping. It was their problem, after all, not his. 

His mind remained unwavering, at least until he was close enough to recognise the vehicle. There was smoke whispering from the open bonnet, hands waving it away before the body they were attached to moved into view. He almost smirked, but forced that away as he identified the woman as Jodie. Her face was contorted into a sharpened grimace, brows so tightly knitted together that it looked like an oncoming headache. 

A concerned feeling pooled in his gut and Frank faltered in his intention to ride by. By the time he was at her position at the roadside, he was slowly coming to a stop. Once he had, he remained seated, though leant back slightly as his gloved hands dropped from the handles of the Harley-Davidson and into his lap. After a split second, he was quick to pull his red-lensed goggle up and onto his spiked helmet and tug his red neckerchief under his chin. 

“You alright there, doll?” He settled on asking, watching her steadily.

Jodie had halted in her pacing, as a hand raked through her hair, which was now set free from its earlier updo. Her fingers massaged circles into her scalp, bidding the headache that niggled at the edges of her mind to go away. It wasn’t. 

She snapped, “are you stalking me?” 

“Not at all,” he replied, then gestured to her car, “I can take a look.” 

Hovering at the side of her dead car, Jodie set him with a dubious glance. She supposed it wouldn’t hurt to take him up on his offer, but given their earlier interactions, part of her wondered what the conditions were. When he made no move to get up, to force her to accept his offer, she slowly nodded her head; only then did he kick out the stand on his bike, leave his belongings on the seat and move towards her. 

“This happened before?” He asked, as he came to stand beside her. As he looked down, he noticed that her eyes were a little reddened, as was the tip of her nose. He didn’t mention it, even if he was curious to know whether his assumptions were correct. She seemed like the kind of person too prideful to admit she had been crying - he was the same. Not that he’d ever cried… or so Frank would have everyone think. 

“Uh,” Jodie distractedly scratched at her brow, before screwing her eyes closed in an effort to formulate a sentence, “yeah. There was an issue with the timing belt, so I took it to a mechanic, he said he’d fixed the issue but, clearly…” 

Her hand halfheartedly waved towards the vehicle and Frank nodded along, before he leant over the engine to start his inspection. In all honesty, Jodie wondered if the mechanic had replaced the timing belt with another faulty one, or if she really was just that unlucky to have broken down again. It might not even be the same issue, but given the awful sound and screeching the car had made before coming to an abrupt halt, she believed she was facing another timing belt issue. Which was just great, that was another expense she couldn’t afford. 

A heavy sigh passed her lips, as she moved away to let Frank do whatever he wanted. Look as he might, he wasn’t going to be able to fix anything. Jodie was certain of it. Still, she supposed it was nice of him to stop by and try. It was more than what some other people had done when she’d tried to flag them down. 

“Sounds like he screwed you over,” Frank commented lightly, as he continued to inspect. He was being thorough, making sure that every inch was checked over, just in case there were multiple issues. 

As he did this, he asked, “are you good?” 

“What?” Jodie asked, eyes moving to him from her dazed state. She had been hovering just behind him, eyes not really focused on anything in particular, ears humming with a ringing pitch as a headache began to form in the forefront of her head. She had even sniffled a couple of times, still recovering from the few frustrated tears she had shed once she realised her situation at the side of the road. 

“Are you good?” He repeated, stopping in his movements to shoot her a brief look over his shoulder. He tried his best to seem less abrupt with his tone, but he wasn’t too sure if he achieved that. He did notice that her hardened stare softened when she recognised what he’d said, a slight flicker of gentle shock passing her eyes. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked in return, arms folding over her chest as her eyes darted down to her feet. Using the tip of her white trainers, she rolled a stone over and over on the same spot, until she got bored of doing so and kicked it away. 

Frank’s voice was a little muffled as he had returned his attention to the engine, but his words still reached her, “ain’t none of my business, but your boss could learn how to treat a woman properly.” 

“Oh…” She grew a little tense, “yeah. I suppose he could.” 

“There ain’t no supposin’.” Frank leant his hands on the lip of the car, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He cocked his head to one side, releasing tension in the muscles, before he decided to straighten up. He continued, “does he speak like that to you often?” 

There was a moment that Jodie just found herself watching him, their eyes interlocked in a silent conversation, and she wasn’t entirely sure whether revealing the truth to him was the right thing to do. After all, he was a stranger to her and why would a stranger want to know anything about her, no less about her boss’ attitude towards her. 

She broke eye contact first, turning her body an angle away from him. Her eyes settled on the road, the vast long, stretching road which was vacant of any oncoming traffic. There were not even specs on the horizon. Jodie focused on this road while she contemplated saying something, admitting that she really hated the way she was spoken to, like she was nothing but shit that her boss had stepped in. 

He was a stranger… 

A sigh passed her lips, then she was turning back to him, arms moving to hang at her sides before she offered, “he does.” 

Frank was now half leaning against the car, his arms over his chest, hands grabbing at his upper arms. His lips were pursed, piercing blue eyes settled on a spot on the ground, just in front of where Jodie stood. He nodded once, as though he had decided on something, then spoke again, “just you?” 

“No, Sarah, too.” Jodie said, “but she handles it.”

“So I’ve heard,” he muttered, but still, it left a bitter taste on his tongue. Part of him wished Sarah had let Mason knock some sense into the guy. 

“If Sarah asked you to-”

“She hasn’t asked me to do anything,” he interjected. 

Jodie went quiet. 

“Your timing belt is fucked, by the way,” he added. 

“What?” She was at his side in an instant, head ducked down to take a sweeping look at her engine; she wasn’t entirely sure what she would be looking for, but look she did. It gave her something to do as her thoughts began to race through her head. 

Jodie’s brows furrowed together tightly in a scrutinising frown as he pointed to the timing belt, which was not looking like it should. A groan left her and her hands came to rest against her features; her sight was darkened by her palms and it was a nice reprieve from the glaring sun of the day. Now if only there was a way she didn’t have to stand around in the heat, sweat growing slick on the back of her neck. 

“I can’t believe this,” she grumbled.  

Frank moved to close the bonnet of the car with a thud, hearing it click back into place satisfyingly and he was then stood by her, a little closer than originally intended, and her shoulder gently brushed against his chest. Upon feeling him so close, her hands shot down from hiding her face and she was peering up at him. 

She wanted to cry, to kick her car, to slam her fist into the nearest thing, as her frustration built up in her chest; instead, all she did was force a restful look on her face, fight against the emotion, and bit her lip in tense thought. 

He watched her carefully, one brow raised; it seemed that his decision from earlier needed to be voiced now. 

“Get on, I’m taking you to town.” He said this as he walked away, a gloved hand tapping her arm to spark her attention to him and by extension his ride. He arrived at his bike by the time she was spinning on her heel, giving him a look of incredulity. 

“Wait, what? Who says?” She demanded. 

He chuckled, plucking his helmet from the seat, holding it just out in front of him as he checked it over, “I do.” 

“You didn’t even ask.” She huffed, exasperated, hands gesturing out to his motorbike. He took the opportunity to place his helmet in her outstretched hand, which she took for fear of it clattering to the floor and becoming damaged. 

“Do you want me to ask?”

Jodie held the helmet close to her chest, unsure of whether she should say yes, or no, or nothing at all. All the while, he was mounting the bike, adjusting his position and kicking up the stand. 

“It would have been nice.” 

“Alright,” he started the bike, the sound of it deep rumbling resonating in Jodie’s body, “will you get on? I’m taking you to town.” 

“That’s not what I-”

He shot her a charming smile, as he interjected, “if you think I’m leavin’ you at the side of the road for some nut to pick you up, think again, doll.”

A sigh left her, head ducked down to hide the slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips - the smile had struck a chord in her heart and she thought back to what Sarah had said. Yeah, maybe he was her type… dammit. 

Jodie pulled the helmet on, stepping up to the bike as she fastened the straps. Then, she was settling into the seat behind him, as she then internally panicked about where to put her hands. Did she wrap her arms around him? Or grab his jacket? Were there handles on the sides of the seat? 

“You need to hold on,” he commented, “don’t wanna lose you.” 

“Uh, ok,” she held onto his jacket. 

Before he set off, Frank tugged his neckerchief back over his lower face, hiding a mischievous smirk that started to grow on his lips. 

Holding on to me like that ain’t gonna do, he thought to himself, as he checked the road and pulled out. In an instant, he was hiking up the speed and the jolt of it caused Jodie to slip backwards. Instinctively, her arms wrapped around his body, clinging tightly as her body was now flush against his back. 

With their closeness, Jodie could feel the vibration of his chuckle in his chest and felt a slight pat on her hands from one of his own. Over the sound of the roaring engine, the rush of the wind, she said, “you did that on purpose.” 

“I told you to hold on, didn’t I?” 

But, yes, Frank most definitely did that on purpose. 

The ride was relatively smooth, though there were occasions where their speed would increase or Frank would take a turn a little sharp and his self-indulgent grin would grow whenever he felt the woman cling to him that little bit tighter. Every so often, he would catch Jodie resting her head against his shoulder and he would sneak glances at her through the side mirrors. As they arrived at the town, Frank felt his heart dropping a little, not wanting to quite let things be over yet. But, they had to, as the mechanic’s workshop came into view. 

The bike slowed to a stop and Frank held it steady as Jodie climbed off. He kept his gaze on her as she removed his helmet and she held it in her hands for a little longer than was necessary. She seemed to be thinking about something and he enjoyed how her lips pursed gently in her thought. 

“There anythin’ else I can do?” he asked. 

“Yeah, actually,” the ghost of a smile appeared on her features. As she offered his helmet back, she added, “just wait here.” 

Frank did exactly that after he took his helmet back, placing it on his head that then cocked to the side as he watched her walk away, a slight urgency to her steps. Moments later, she was rushing back out to him with a small, neatly folded slip of paper in her hand. With a very sheepish look, she offered it out to him, eyes unable to meet his own. 

“What’s this?” he asked, unable to hide the teasing lilt to his tone as he took the paper between his index and middle fingers. Crossing her arms in response, she murmured, “open it up and you’ll find out.” 

He did and written in very neat, slightly cursive handwriting was a full name and a number. Frank read it once, then twice, then peered up at her, noticing the slight red to the tips of her ears and cheeks. Was she flustered? 

“Well Miss Hall,” he started, tucking that paper away in his breast pocket for safe keeping, which he patted twice. His tone then became graced with concern, “will you be alright?” 

With a nod of her head, she offered, “I think I’ve got it from here.” 

The two idly waved goodbye and Jodie remained stood as she watched Frank leave. The roar of the bike slowly faded down in decibels until she could no longer hear it and she let herself smile widely. 

“You still need me, darlin’?” Came the cutting voice of the mechanic, who snapped her from her thoughts. 

She turned to face him, moving towards the workshop as she said, “yeah, coming!” 

Her mind, though, was still occupied with Frank and she was left feeling like a giddy schoolgirl.

[ruvviks]

two weeks ago the rome edit u made at some point just appeared in my head for unknown reason and i was like "ough i hope casey gets his laptop soon maybe we'll hear more about it" NCNNCNCNCN

HEHE now that i have my laptop again and have sorted out my files (mostly) i finally have more to say about the universe >:^)

obscura is a project i'm working on together with @mojaves because we're insane and do everything together all the fucking time sorry about that. it takes place in a universe in which concepts like angels and demons exist, but as otherworldly beings rather than their religious counterparts :]

the world order consists of the three evils and the forces of good, though they've been labeled as such within the earthly realm because they don't really know the concepts of "good" and "evil" as we know it. they're also very much not good or evil but. well. humans love labeling things as good or evil. but looking at their actual portfolios you will notice they all have the same level of self-interest and care very little about humankind as a whole

the three evils are the brothers lucifer, behemoth, and leviathan, and the forces of good are known as the otherworldy entities we call angels. the brothers all rule over a domain, and angels fill in the gaps and spaces between these domains, to maintain the balance in the world. that is mainly what "forces of good" refers to; they do what needs to be done to keep the world from crumbling, but the domains they rule over can be anything and their methods are by no means pure

lucifer's domain consists of death, the veil, otherworldly corruption, and shadows. he rules over that what we cannot perceive directly, but know is there. lucifer leads an army of demons, who prey on humanity's weaknesses and desires to strike deals and/or gain access to the earthly realm. at the core, lucifer rules over desire

lucifer's influence is seen in life and death, ghosts, demons, hauntings, and possessions. he manifests in eclipses, red nights, and wildfires

lucifer's demons can be summoned to make deals with. alternatively, lower ranked demons lurk in the shadows on the earthly realm waiting for a chance to take control of a vessel or a host

behemoth's domain consists of pestilence, the lithosphere, and the geosphere. he rules over the earthly realm, the tangible. behemoth manifests in the eyes of the beast, takes root in that what can be corrupted, and corrupts until he consumes until only bones remain. at the core, behemoth rules over consumption

behemoth's influence is seen in disease, cannibalism, and night terrors. he manifests in traveling night hounds, and the final stages of transformation of a victim of noxbane

behemoth's night hounds travel the night sky, a bad omen for anyone who spots them. the fungus noxbane brings forth a terrible disease holding the same name, which can affect any living organism to the point of corruption and consumption

leviathan's domain consists of war, famine, the ocean, arctic regions, and outer space. he rules over the vastness of the universe, and all concepts too large for humanity to fully comprehend. leviathan lays dormant in outer space, but awakens within souls lost in the open, or lost within themselves. at the core, leviathan rules over oblivion

leviathan's influence is seen in warfare, power imbalance, space sickness, and eldritch madness. he manifests in extraterrestrial storms, and hallucinations caused by leviathan's madness

leviathan's visions and glimpses of the empty earth haunt the ones lost at sea, in space, or in war or madness. he spawns tangible visages through an individual's own paranoia, and collects the minds of those who let themselves be persuaded by the promise of answers

obviously people living in this universe do not know about all of this lore, but there are plenty of them who have either been exposed to any of these concepts or have dedicated their lives to trying to unravel the truth. it's set in the second half of the 20th century with an earthly realm that is similar to ours but with adjusted levels of technology and (priorities in) travel, and follows several separate but intertwined storylines to show some interesting cases of the influences of the three evils :] below a list of the current characters we have for the universe!

rome solomon is an astronomer and professor at the obscurus academy in crescent hill, washington. he is one of the brightest minds of his generation with several books to his name, and he is famous for his empty earth theory which he has so far spent his entire life trying to prove. the reason for this is that his sister, a world famous astronaut, went missing (not died; went missing) in outer space on a very important mission when rome was still young; the empty earth theory would prove that she and her crew are still out there, and looking for a way to get back into their own dimension

judah solomon is rome's older sister and was the world's youngest and brightest astronaut. she was only 24 when she and her crew went missing in outer space, and her current whereabouts remain unknown to this day, 18 years later

clyde morris (belongs to mojaves) is a repair technician who works at the obscurus academy and he is rome's best friend. since computers are still pretty rare but insanely powerful devices in this universe, it is very special that morris owns his own computer; and even more special that an angel has found its home within, and sometimes communicates with him

clarence rojas is a psychic operating in the south of the united states. she lost her vision in an encounter with an angel, the warning she received so powerful it robbed her of her eyesight; and in return, the angel granted her with her psychic powers, which she uses to assist people in dealing with ghost infestations, and sometimes even demonic cases

eleanor constantine (belongs to mojaves) is a preacher and demonologist active in the south and on the east coast of the united states, traveling around by train with her brother victor to help people in need. the spark of community she holds within is powerful enough to gift her near-psychic abilities and a strong intuition, which is essential in her line of work

victor constantine (belongs to mojaves) travels around with his sister as her assistant, operating all cameras and other technology needed for their investigations into demonic cases, and for exorcisms. where his sister found her voice speaking to the crowds to build a community, victor lost his own ability to speak, and he prefers to remain in the background letting his sister deal with public affairs

lazarus reeves is another world famous demonologist operating in saint-dominic, louisiana, who is trying to uphold the legacy of his late wife, who he used to hunt down demons with. without his wife's higher position in society to protect him, he is not as loved among the public as she was, coming from a family with a bad history; but he has not given up on what he does best, knowing that there are still folks out there who need his help

eve lynch is a nun and herbalist residing in a convent near saint-dominic. she is doing research into the fungus known as noxbane and its effects on living organisms, and through her research she is exposed to behemoth's domain and the terrible disease the fungus brings, which leads to an outbreak of ghouls within the walls of the convent

anatoly dorokhin is a cosmonaut sent into orbit around the moon with his crew to investigate a series of strange sightings on the moon's surface. something terrible happened on their ship, and anatoly ends up as only survivor of his own crew with what remains of the rescue crew in the obscurus academy to figure out what truly happened up there

quincy jackson (belongs to mojaves) is an astronaut who on his way back to earth ended up losing most of his crew in an emergency rescue mission, and ends up in the obscurus academy with anatoly dorokhin and two other survivors of quincy's own crew; however, the two others are alive but unresponsive, not reacting to any triggers from the outside world and seemingly trapped within their own mind. quincy and anatoly grow close over time while anatoly pushes everyone else away, and quincy soon seems to be the only one who can figure out what truly happened when they were in outer space

mary schlachter is a surgeon in the south of the united states, famous for his exceptionally precise work and portfolio of rather unusual cases. when clarence rojas' daughter grendel is born inside out, mary is the one to put her back together in the way she is meant to be, but the procedure leaves a mark on him that soon enough attracts the attention of otherworldly beings

[slightlyunconventional]

told you i was writing a fic B) this took me #hours but i do not regret it. so here have three and a half thousand words worth of k/az and his miserable cold-ridden self !

careful care (in which k/az b/rekker has like the worst cold ever and i/nej cares for him as much as he'll let her)

Kaz didn’t think it was possible to have a personal vendetta against a celestial body, however the shaft of sunlight prying his eyes open seemed determined to prove him wrong. Despite this, the grasps of sleep tried their damnedest to drag him back down into their depths, however his dozy state was quickly eradicated by a sharp tickle in his nose. He found himself muffling a pair of sneezes clumsily into the soft fabric of his duvet.

“-hehH’tTSHhiew! huh’shHHiew!”

The double was followed by a series of shaky coughs directed loosely into his raised fist. This was not about to be a good day. With a groan, Kaz hauled himself out of bed, reluctant to abandon the warmth of his sheets. He grimaced at the spasms of pain that shot up his bad leg as put pressure on it standing up - it always hurt first thing in the morning, but the pain was much more pronounced today. Decidedly ignoring the pain, Kaz began getting dressed. He pulled on a crisp white shirt, black trousers, and fastened a deep maroon tie around his neck, his every move punctuated by increasingly wet sniffles. He swiped up his cane from where it leaned against his bedside table and made his way to the desk to consult his watch - eleven bells. He’d slept in. Panic jolted through him as he realised how long he’d been asleep and very much vulnerable for, hell, any miserable wretch could have done anything to him and he wouldn’t have known. He tried to shake the thought from his head. Kaz coughed sharply again, displeased at the scratch it left behind in his throat. He headed out of the room, across the corridor and into the bathroom, where he slipped off his gloves and set them down beside the sink, before turning on the faucet and splashing water onto his face. As he attempted to tame the pillow-induced mess that was his hair, Kaz noted the pallor taken on by his face, and elected to ignore it, even more so the way it made the pink hue of his nose stand out painfully. He sighed and dried his hands, then his face. Almost immediately, he found himself needing to sneeze again. His only option was to catch them in the towel, so he braced it tighter against his face.

“heh-heHH’sSHHhuuh! -tTSHHh!”

Clicking his tongue in disgust, Kaz slipped his gloves back on, and made his way downstairs.

Kaz descended the creaky stairs of the Slat, gritting his teeth against the twinge his knee gave with every step. He reached the bottom, paused to let his leg rest for even the briefest moment, and rounded the corner into the living room - a room not particularly comfortable or cosy, but enough for the five of them to spend quiet mornings or evenings playing cards games at the table. Wylan, Jesper, and Nina were sitting on the worn sofa, talking animatedly about something Kaz didn’t care to listen in on, for his nose was burning ferociously again. He took a step back, almost backing out of the door, and twisted himself around so he was facing away from the room, and announced his presence with a rather heavy sneeze into his elbow.

“HhuH’dDJSHHhuuh!”

A chorus of “bless you”s sounds from around the room, along with a snarky “Took you long enough,” from Jesper. Kaz nodded in acknowledgement of the blessings, and ignored Jesper’s comment. Inej appeared from the kitchen and approached Kaz. She handed him a steaming mug (one of a set of five gifted to the group by Inej, having each of their initials on it - this one was black with the letter ‘K’ painted in gold) of coffee.

“I made you this as soon as I heard you wake up. Everything okay?”

Kaz took the mug from her. “Thank you,” he said quietly, “I was just tired last night, I think.”

Inej’s eyes narrowed slightly as she regarded him. As though calling himself out for lying, Kaz turned quickly to the side with a sharp set of coughs which shook his chest. He could see the concern growing in Inej’s face, by the shine of her brown eyes and the furrow forming between her dark brows. “Maybe tea would have been better,” she observed, “but I know how much you hate being coddled, so just take care of yourself, alright?”

The taller man nodded stiffly as Inej returned to Jesper, Wylan, and Nina’s lively conversation. Kaz sighed and sat in his chair, allowing himself to relax a little as he listened to them talk - something about a fight in the bar the previous night. He hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath of that. He sipped his coffee, throat half soothed by the drink’s warmth, half irritated further by the bitter taste. The steam wafting up from the mug made his nose threaten to start running, so he pawed at it absently with a gloved knuckle. The faint beginnings of a tickle began to bloom somewhere high, deep, behind the bridge of his nose. He continued rubbing at his nose to try and alleviate the sensation. However, his scrubbing made the tickle quickly worse, barely giving him a chance to think before he was sneezing again.

“-hh-haAHh’sSCHhuh! heh’sSHHhew! H-haahh…” He lifted his head gingerly from his elbow, only to find himself almost straight away gasping deeply as another sneeze made its presence known. “haAH’kKSHHhuuh!”

Kaz sniffled thickly as he received another round of blessings. Everyone except Inej resumed their animated conversation, who kept her eyes trained on Kaz. Kaz knew full well that he’d come down with a cold - and a viciously sneezy one, at that - but he wasn’t willing to admit it to himself, though he was fairly certain that Inej knew about it, somehow. She always did. The smaller girl shifted her chair closer to his, and she produced a box of tissues from under the coffee table, where it was always kept. Kaz looked down at it with supreme displeasure, then back at Inej with the same look. He sniffled a couple of times, thoroughly tempted by the tissues Inej was offering him. Instead of taking them, though, like any sensible person would, he sighed, stood up, and left the room. Kaz caught a faint, “What’s his problem?” from Nina as he turned to go back upstairs.

He swayed slightly on the first few steps, his head hot and fuzzy from standing up so quickly, but forced himself to regain balance, determinedly dismissing the screaming pain radiating from his leg. Finally, Kaz reached his office. He regretted stationing himself at the top of the building more than he cared to quantify. Not even a second after slumping down in his chair was Kaz building up to sneeze yet again. He didn’t much fancy the idea of sneezing into his shirt sleeve again, so he fought desperately against his hitching breaths and prickling nostrils while rummaging frantically through his desk drawers for a handkerchief. His hands shook gradually more and more as the need to sneeze doubled, tripled, quadrupled- then his fingers closed around what he was looking for: a neat square of burgundy fabric patterned faintly with an intricate floral design. Just to his luck, he sneezed, wet and harsh, just before the handkerchief reached his face.

“-hhuUHh’GKKTSHHhuh!” The explosion left a fine mist hanging upon the air in front of him. “Saindts,” he said, appalled at himself, then even further repulsed by the dense congestion in his voice. Annoyed, Kaz sniffed thickly, only to find that his whole head, particularly his sinuses, felt as though it's been packed tightly with cotton wool. Now in the privacy of his own office, he slipped off his gloves, lay back in his chair and huffs, dragging a finger under his nose, rather annoyed by how full it felt. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a cold as awful as this one, and Saints, it progressed fast. He recalled feeling perfectly fine the night before, maybe a sniffle here and there, but nothing more. Now he felt like someone was pinching his nose shut so he couldn’t breathe out of it, forcing him to swallow razor blades, and repeatedly kicking him in the side of the head. He was miserable. With another sigh, Kaz leaned forward and put his head in his hands, balls of his palms pressed firmly onto his eyes, forcefully willing away the headache he knew was well on its way. As if the agony in his head wasn’t enough, the itch in his nose reignited. Kaz lifted his head in annoyance and snatched the red handkerchief back up, just in time for-

“HehH’gkKTSCHHhiiew!” A very wet sneeze, so much so that he had to pinch the handkerchief over his face to wipe the mess from his face as he pulled away from it. “Ugh,” he breathed, grimacing in disgust. Kaz ran a hand through his hair, letting out an annoyed breath. He felt he ought to do something productive, even though he could hardly breathe through his nose and his head was pricking with the ominous threat of a migraine. Returning back to his desk drawers, Kaz produced a binder of paperwork and made a reluctant start on it.

He couldn’t put his heart into it, and his hand nearly refused to keep the pen in its grip, but he managed a fair stack of papers over the next hour, albeit an hour of abundant sniffles and scattered with rattling coughs. By the time he gave up trying to work, his head was pounding deeply, his throat was as raw as anything, and his nose felt stickier with congestion than ever. He thought he’d escaped the sneezing, but much to his dismay, he was hitching again with a ferocious prickle in his nostrils.

“haAHh’kKZSHHhuh! -aAH’KTSCHH-huh!” Two harsh sneezes, aimed lazily into a half-heartedly lifted arm (though most of it is directed into the open air to his side). His breath snagged again immediately after the double, but nothing happened. Kaz felt his brows draw closer together. He was stuck in a torturous, tickly limbo. He lifted his arm closer to his face, as though to coax the sneeze he so desperately needed with a comfortable landing spot - to no avail. In desperation, he shifted his blurry, watery gaze up to the light fixture on the ceiling. The itch climaxed and Kaz gasped deeply. Inej entered the room, pushing the door open in her usual quiet manner. Kaz sneezed, loud and grating.

“HaAHh’kKZZSCHHhuuh! Fucking…” Before he could say anything to Inej, he was dragged into a fit of tearing coughs, each of which feeling like knives against his already sore throat.

“Saints, bless you, Kaz,” said Inej, “That’s one hell of a cold you’ve got there.” Kaz looked up, about to ask how she knew about him being sick, but stopped himself. She always knew.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” he said to her, the rasp in his voice amplified tenfold, “I can’t get you sick.”

Inej smiled reassuringly. “You won’t get me sick. Just let me help you, okay?” Kaz hesitated, reluctant to accept her care. At last, he gave her a single, stiff nod. “I’ll fix you some tea, first off. It’ll help with that throat.” Inej disappeared from the room and down the stairs.

-

Inej headed downstairs and into the kitchen, where she put some water on to boil and got out the ingredients for one of her mother’s tea recipes, one meant to ease congestion and relax an inflamed throat - perfect for Kaz, she thought. While Inej waited for the water to boil, Nina came in.

“What’s up with Brekker, then?” she asked. Inej shook her head, almost in exasperation.

“He’s got a dreadful cold. Sneezing and coughing all over the place,” replied Inej. Nina tilted her head with sympathy.

“Bless him. Want me to see to him? I can probably help him out,” Nina offered, gesturing vaguely with her hands to indicate her Heartrender power. Inej shook her head.

“Thank you, but he’s reluctant to even let me in there with him.” Inej leaned against the counter. “He’s tiring, sometimes, Kaz,” she said with a sigh. Nina snorted.

“You can say that again.”

Inej smiled at her as the water finished boiling. “I’d better get to making his tea,” she said.

“Best hope he doesn’t die drinking something that isn’t pitch-black coffee, eh?” teased Nina, “Good luck with him. Let me know if you need any help, sweet.”

Inej nodded as Nina left the room with a little wave. She sighed again and began preparing the tea, a soothing floral blend with a teaspoon of honey stirred in. Inej picked up the mug and made her way back upstairs, careful not to spill any on her way up. She wondered why Kaz insisted on having his office on the top floor, what with his cane and everything.

When she reached Kaz’s room, she tapped on the door, then pushed it open slowly when she received no reply. Inej was met with a sight she didn’t expect - Kaz Brekker, asleep at his desk, head resting upon his folded arms. She’d hardly been downstairs ten minutes and he’d already fallen asleep. He must really not be feeling good, she thought with worry. Kaz’s breathing was soft, though slightly laboured due to congestion. Inej set the mug down on the desk beside him and returned to the door, unhooking his high-collared great-coat from the peg on the back of it. She draped it over his sleeping form, tucking it snugly around his shoulders. Then, she picked up a pen and a scrap of paper from the desk and wrote a note in her tidy handwriting - “Sorry if the tea is cold, I didn’t want to wake you. Feel better soon.” She signed off the note with a tiny love heart and placed it next to the mug. There wasn’t much else Inej could do, so she decided to head back downstairs. As she reached the bottom, she saw Nina again who cast her a puzzled glance.

“Asleep,” said Inej. Nina mouthed “Ah,” then offered her arm to Inej who gratefully looped her own arm through Nina’s.

“We’re playing blackjack in here, if you want to join us. It’s a bit… chaotic, though. Jesper doesn’t seem to know how to count to twenty-one.” Inej giggled at that, and allowed Nina to lead her into the living room.

The four of them played cards for a couple of hours, and Inej let her worries about Kaz ease during their rowdy games. Nina was right - Jesper kept insisting that seven and nine summed to twenty-one, despite Wylan repeatedly telling him that that actually makes sixteen. He also kept having to be reminded that an ace card doubles as both one and eleven, due to his uproar when Nina supposedly won with a ten and an ace. “But that only makes eleven!” he’d shouted amidst Inej’s giddy peals of laughter and Nina’s whoops of victory. After they finished what felt like their hundredth game, Inej lay back in her seat, face aching from grinning and her heart sufficiently full. Jesper and Nina announced that they were going to make dinner together (definitely a bad combination in the kitchen) and took off through the door. As they left, Wylan and Inej heard a sneeze echo through the Slat’s walls. Being two stories above them, the sound was muffled, but it was still evident that it was loud and harsh. They exchanged concerned glances. Inej sighed.

“He’s awake. I’d better go and check on him,” she said. Wylan nodded, muttering something about making sure the building doesn’t burn down, before hurrying off to the kitchen. Inej headed for the stairs, picking up the pace as another sneeze reverberated from above her. When she reached Kaz’s room, he was standing up, a hand braced against his desk to keep himself upright. He exploded into a fit of wracking coughs, the outburst topped off with a third wrenching sneeze.

“h-huuhh…heh-ehHH’ZZSCHHhiew!” He looked doubly exhausted afterwards. His nose was a brilliant shade of red by this point, and his eyes possessed a distinct glassy quality that wasn’t nearly as evident two hours prior.

“Kaz,” Inej said quietly.

“I’m- I’m okay,” said Kaz, voice hoarse from all the coughs and sneezes tearing up his throat.

“Kaz,” she repeated, voice still gentle but firmer than before. He sighed, shoulders sagging.

“Inej, I’m- I don’t-” He closed his eyes, sighed again, and continued, “‘m cold, head hurts, and I keep… keep-” His breath caught, “-s-sdeezihH-!” The tail end of his sentence was lifted by the need to sneeze, and he did so, into his elbow.

“h-haAHh’zZSHHhew! Ohh…” The sneeze conveyed perfectly the sheer exhaustion in Kaz’s bones to Inej.

“Saints’ blessings,” she said, head tilted in sympathy, “You really ought to get some sleep. Though, have you eaten today?”

Kaz paused, then shook his head hesitantly. “Oh, Kaz,” Inej said softly. She ponders for a moment, “Well, do you feel like eating anything?” He shook his head again, knuckling at his nose with one hand. Clearly, he noticed the way Inej deflated a little at his words, and said, voice thick with miserable congestion, “I cad try to… to eat somethidng.”

Inej smiled. “That’s good enough for me,” she said, “Jesper and Nina are cooking tonight - terrifying, I know -” she added upon seeing Kaz’s expression, “so I can bring you up a plate if you like?”

Kaz shook his head at her. “I haven’t moved from here all day, practically. I thidk my leg would just about give up if I didn’t move myself somewhere,” he said, still sniffling.

“Alright,��� Inej replied, “Can I at least get you to blow your nose? You sound awfully stuffed up.”

“Fine,” Kaz said. Inej smiled softly again, and picked up the red handkerchief from his desk. “Ah- that’s, uh,” Kaz started. Inej’s brows lifted in realisation.

“Right,” she said, “I’ll get some tissues.”

-

Dinner went mostly uneventfully. Nobody paid much mind to Kaz’s affliction, for which he was very grateful. He couldn’t find his appetite - something he knew would upset Inej - so he spent most of the time pushing food around his plate with a fork, sniffling thickly all the while. Inej cast him a few sideways glances that he determinedly ignored. He’d already let his guard down enough. The congestion was still heavy in his head, forcing him to breathe through his mouth, which irritated his inflamed throat more than Kaz thought was even possible. That meant he had to force back a number of coughing fits throughout the meal. He found himself thoroughly distracted, and dare he say bored, while the others talked around him, though even if he wanted to, it wasn’t like he’d actually be able to get a word in edgeways. He was beginning to zone out, when suddenly, his nose began burning with an incessant tickle, one so fiery and abundant that there was nothing he could do to stop the oncoming outbursts. He pushed his chair quickly back from the table, chest heaving rapidly. The piercing squeal of the seat against the floor pulled four sets of eyes onto him, but he couldn’t be bothered to care that he was being watched for his nose was too busy practically twitching with need as he ducked desperately into the crook of his arm to muffle a series of sneezes.

“heh-haAH-hHH’KZZSCHHhiew! ‘hKXTSCHhuuh! haAh’gkKSCHH-huh! huUHh’kKXZSCHhew! ‘gGKTSCHHh!” Five sneezes burst from him, each one heavier and messier than the last. Once he was done, his chest was rising and falling in exhausted pants, and it was all he could do to hide his streaming nose behind his gloved hand. The table seemed stunned into silence, and for good reason - not one of them (not even Kaz himself) had ever witnessed him sneeze like that before. Kaz avoided meeting anyone’s gaze. Inej was the first to act, since she had thorough experience with sick Barrel bosses. She tapped his shoulder gently as he attempted to recover from the wrenching fit.

“I think it’s time you got some rest, hey?” she murmured to him. Kaz nodded vaguely, blearily. Inej stood up, then held her arms out as a caution for Kaz while he jerkily hauled himself out of his own chair.

Once they finally reached Kaz’s room, Inej sat him down on his bed.

“I’ll leave you to sort yourself out in a minute - I’m sure you don’t want me stripping you down and tucking you in,” she said with a wink, “How’s that head?”

Kaz lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Still hurts,” he mumbled tiredly. She nodded.

“I’ll get a glass of water, then. Do you mind if I check you for fever? I’d just have to touch your cheeks and forehead. It’s fine if not, though.” Kaz hesitated, looking wary, but finally he nodded. Inej sat down on the bed next to him and gently pressed the backs of her fingers to Kaz’s face, first to each of his cheeks, and then to his forehead. Throughout the process, she repeated to him, barely a whisper, “I’m here, you’re safe, we’re safe.” Her soft voice threatened to slide his eyes shut. She took her hand from his face.

“You’re a little warm, but it should clear up after you get some sleep.” Kaz nodded, eyes half-lidded as though he was about to drift off where he was sat. He knuckled gently at his nose again, but the touch teased two more sneezes out of him which he just barely caught in exhausted hands.

“heh-hehH’zZSHhiew! huh’tshHHhuh! Mmh…” Inej smiled sympathetically.

“Get yourself changed, okay? I can’t have you falling asleep in a shirt and tie. I’ll fetch that water.”

[honeycreammilkshake]

Hi.... If you don't mind me asking, can I ask, what are your top 7 favorite media (can be books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series) and your top 7 favorite ships (can be canon or non canon) from any media ? Why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this questions before......

omg i've been wanting to answer a question like this for such a long time, thank you so much for asking! (you can always ask me about anything <3)

it's hard to talk about why i love these without giving a few spoilers, so i hope you don't mind that.

1. Jujutsu Kaisen & Sukuita

I first got into JJK because of Sukuna edits, but I started reading it more seriously when I fell in love with Yuuji (one of the best protagonists ever!) and got really invested in more of the other characters (Nobara, Mai and Maki, Nanami, Shoko, Yuki, Hiromi, and Uraume being my favorites <3) as the story went on.

Although I'm generally not interested in a lot of action manga, I fell hard for JJK because there were just so many good things about it. An anime protagonist that actually cares about saving other people but is still kind of unhinged and comparatively weaker than a lot of his peers? Bodily possession and an ancient god of chaos obsessed with the unworthy brat he's trapped inside of?? Scary monsters and scarier humans who fight them off???

But if I'm being really honest, my main reason for loving JJK is almost completely Sukuita.

These two are my #1 otp and I'm rabidly obsessed with them (almost as much as they're obsessed with each other). I could go on forever about why I adore this ship, but to keep it simple, it's really because they're one of the most dynamic and overlooked protagonist/antagonist relationships I've ever seen.

As a ship, they really have it all: enemies to lovers, hero x villain, bound by fate, bodily possession, virtually soulmates, matching each other's freak, yin and yang, toxic divorced couple/possessive exes energy, incest (if you're into that), and even opposites attract.

I see them as an inseparable matched set that share basically the same soul and see through each other but they'll never fully understand or accept each other, and it's beautifully heartbreaking in every way.

I first started shipping them when I read a lot of different ship fics with Sukuna, but the only one I ever really got invested in was Sukuita. My favorite ship trope of all is enemies to lovers, so I couldn't really resist them, and overtime I just fell deeper and deeper. Now I personally can't ship them with anyone but each other, but there are still so many more amazing ships to be found in this fandom, though a lot of my JJK otps (Nobamai, Makimai, Nanahito, and Gojoken) aren't very popular.

2. BNHA & Togachako

I'm not going to lie... I'm really not very invested in BNHA as a series, but I'm totally devoted to some of the characters, mainly Himiko Toga. I love kawaii yandere villains so much, and Toga is my favorite autistic bi disaster girl. I also love Dabi (one of my very first anime crushes), Ochaco, Bakugo, Deku, Shoto, Mirko, Eri, Overhaul, Mina Ashido, Kuin Hachisuka, Beros, and Twice.

Some of the quirks are really cool so I always love when they explore the different kinds both heroes and villains can have, and I love all the amazing fight scenes where heroes and villains get to go all out using their quirks, but my #1 reason for watching BNHA is for these two.

My top otp in BNHA is Togachako, of course, because I adore doomed yuri, especially the hero x villain kind, and I will never stop crying over how these two deserved so much better.

I shipped them almost as soon as they first interacted. The chemistry between them was beautiful and I love how Toga went all out with her yandere-style flirting with Ochaco, saying she had the same scent as her, that she wanted to be like her, from the very start understanding so much of Ochaco's character, her need to be heroic and save as many lives as she could, like Deku wanted to. Toga sees a lot of similarities between Ochaco and herself, and I love a villain that obsessively connects to the hero they're always at odds with.

I especially went crazy during that scene from season 6 where Toga had Ochaco pinned down and started crying out "What are you going to do to me? Are you going to kill me, too?" There was so much feeling and pain inside of that scene, Toga coming to terms with how heroes kill villains (like they did to Twice) even though they're human too, and knowing she could be next.

Yet later on we see how Ochaco accepted Toga despite all the things Toga had done. Because she understands that Toga is more than just another monster. All her childhood, Toga had been forced to suppress her own nature, but there Ochaco is... loving her not even despite it, but because she finds Toga herself, as the person she is, the cutest girl in the world. Just what Toga always wanted to be to someone, loved for her real self.

That just... really got to me.

My second main BNHA ship is Toyasho, or Dabisho.

They hit all the good tropes: hero x villain, twisted family, reconnecting, and lots and lots of angst. It fascinated me how they went on two different paths after experiencing abuse from their father: Dabi craving vengeance and resenting the world around him while Shoto largely isolated himself from others and tried to be indifferent about things. Dabi indulged in being ruthless, depraved, and even sadistic while Shoto tried to be "frozen" both inside and outside, yet he was learning to slowly open up to others and have hope for forgiveness.

They share a lot in common - being arrogant, getting overly emotional, wanting to do things alone, their way. But overall they have two different perspectives and Shoto considers Dabi to be his "cross to bear" since Dabi is his brother.

They still try to reconnect with each other in their own ways, especially at the end, where Dabi does regret a lot of what he did to Shoto and Shoto forgives him by asking what his favorite food is.

Togachako and Dabisho are my main otps for this fandom, but I also really like Shigadeku, Bakudeku, Meilissa, Saimomo, Togatsuyu, Momokendo, and Miruhawks because they have amazing chemistry as well!

3. The Locked Tomb & Griddlehark + Harryanthe

I first read Gideon the Ninth about a year ago and fell in love with it. The series reminds me of those weird sci-fi fantasy paperbacks that I would find packing the shelves of thrift stores and old book stores, but even better because of all the toxic lesbian angst and unhinged necromantic freaks who are the most unreliable narrators.

I like the writing style, the worldbuilding, the scientific feel to all the different necromantic theorems, the House politics, the beautifully complex characters, and the strange humor.

I love Griddlehark for all the angst, the enemies to lovers, the sad "you're the only friend I ever had so don't forget me, I'll even sacrifice my own life for you" from Gideon's side and the desperate "don't leave me, I'll erase all my memories of you because I can't bear to let you die" from Harrow's side. When we're first introduced to Harrow, from Gideon's POV, we think she's a heartless monster only concerned with herself. But soon we learn Harrow is weighed down heavily by her burden to handle all Ninth House affairs largely on her own and also by the nature of her very birth. Harrow has a deeply romantic and tragic side that Gideon is the first to discover, proving all her previous assumptions about Harrow wrong, and Gideon also proves herself to be more loyal, dedicated, and caring than Harrow thought she was. And even though they started out hating each other, they become each other's first true friends and can never let go of each other.

I also adore Ianthe's (mostly) one-sided obsession with Harrow, the way she acts like she just wants to manipulate Harrow and break her heart but unintentionally caught feelings for her along the way. They can't stand each other but they're forced to rely on one another and it's perfect, especially when Harrow (reluctantly) starts to feel somewhat close to Ianthe overtime. They're opposites in many ways, but they are both driven by their overwhelming sense of ambition and by their deep love/obsession for the people closest to their hearts (Harrow for Gideon and Ianthe for Coronabeth).

Harrow is my favorite, and I love her dynamic with both Gideon and Ianthe, so I can't choose between either ship. They're my ot3 really, since I also enjoy Gideon/Kiriona's interactions with Ianthe and how they sort of warm up to each other because of how they first "connect" over Harrow.

I have a lot more ships in this series too, namely Alectostasia, Pyrrha x Wake, Jarpedon, Augustine/Mercymorn/God, John x Alecto, Halecto, Corona x Judith, and Corona x Ianthe.

4 . The Summer Hikaru Died & Yoshikaru

I am a BIG fan of eldritch monsters developing codependent and destructive relationships with the mortals they become fascinated by, and this manga delivered that amazingly.

I've been following this story obsessively for about a few months but it's quickly becoming one of my most favorite manga ever. The dynamic between "Hikaru" and Yoshiki is perfect — the way Yoshiki can't really reject "Hikaru" because he craves the closeness he used to have with his friend but overtime he starts caring deeply for whatever "Hikaru" actually is.... Everything about them is so beautiful and tragic, it hurts physically but I love it.

The art is gorgeous and fits wonderfully with the summery horror atmosphere, and I like that's it set in the rural country, since I don't see as much of that in manga or anime as I would like to.

It has some elements of mystery, some of horror, lots of the paranormal, and plenty of chemistry between the mcs, all of which makes it so interesting and unique.

Yoshikaru is my main otp but I also love Asako/Yuuki, because they're so cute together.

5. Alien Stage & Mizisua

This series ruins me. The music, the story, the emotion. All of it makes me feel way too much.

The character designs for the humans are so good but I particularly like the aliens because I want to know more about their cultures and how they ended up imprisoning humanity.

One of the most central themes of this story is longing: the longing for freedom, the longing for love and friendship, the longing for something to put all your faith in even during the darkest times. And for Mizi and Sua, they put all that longing, that faith and hope, into each other.

Despite the fact that they know only one of them can survive that first round, they still sing almost every verse together because they refuse to give the other one the edge. They want each other to survive, even if it comes at the loss of their own life, but they were also hopeful that both of them could have tied. But Sua understood that this was unlikely and she chose to sacrifice herself to keep Mizi alive.

During the song Mizi narrates how humanity has forgotten gods and religion, but Mizi still believes in something that transcends all her suffering and longing, and that is Sua — her god, her universe. Even in the final moments of their round, as their fates are being sealed, Mizi looks over to Sua and smiles at her, because despite everything she's still happy to be with Sua, to sing with her and not against her, to find comfort even at the end. But she's still shocked and horrified when Sua dies, especially because of the fact Sua died to protect her.

And Mizi was never able to get over Sua's death. It's why she lost composure during her round with Luka, who relentlessly used her undying feelings for Sua against her by singing far too romantically.

Mizisua is my main otp in this fandom but I also love Ivantill, Hyuluka, and Hyunamizi.

6. Kakegurui & Yumedari

Even though it's arguably not as intelligent or coherent in its matches as I first thought it would be, I love pretty much everything else about this series, both the live action and the anime. The craziness, the color schemes, the focus on exaggerated body movements, even how thrilling the gambling scenes can be. Not to mention so many amazing characters and shipping possibilities, and my personal favorite ship of this series is Yumeko and Midari.

They get a lot of hate for being a toxic ship, which they are, but what exactly in Kakegurui is safe or sane in any way?? These two have such an interesting and compelling dynamic and from the start Midari is impressed and obsessed with Yumeko. And despite Yumeko's intolerance for Midari, they have a lot in common.

They're both compulsive gamblers who don't care about winning money or social status when they play. They're both addicted to the thrill, really skilled, impulsive, and quite smart too.

What made me start shipping them was, of course, their match during episode 7. The way Yumeko so expertly predicts Midari's moves to prevent an outcome where either of them are actually shot, how Midari comes to understand more of who Yumeko is through their game, the fact that Yumeko knew that Midari wanted her to win and was angry enough about it to deny the other girl that outcome. Yumeko despises cheating to "win" instead of fully indulging in the thrill of the uncertainty, which is what she lives for, and if Midari had maybe not resorted to cheating, I think Yumeko would have more respect and even enjoyment for playing with Midari.

What also really interests me is how polar Yumeko's actions are with Midari. She screams that she hates Midari, she finds her pathetic, she can't stand to be around her. Yet she has this almost soft moment with Midari before they begin playing, if only to keep the other girl from harming Ryota.

Yumeko also grows more tolerant of Midari as the show goes on, but it's by no means warm or loving in any way. And I think that's what I like about them. They're so alike but will never fully "fit together" because of it. It will always end up with either Midari wanting Yumeko to be the one to cause her pain or death, while Yumeko hates any kind of predictable outcome or rigging of the game.

I also have a lot of other ships in this fandom, mainly Yumary, Kirisaya, Meariri, Ayadari, Riridari, Naodari, Ririsaya, and Yumemika.

7. Monster & Tenjoh

I don't even know where to start on this one, really.

I've known about the existence of this series for a while and even tried to start it, but all I could could get into initially was edits of Johan Liebert. I kept meaning to pick it up eventually, since I'd heard that it was one of the most popular seinen manga and that Johan was also one of the best manga/anime villains.

But only recently I have I started watching this series, and I don't know why I didn't sooner.

I cannot describe everything I love about this series without writing a whole other post, but to put it simply - it's extremely well-done and very thought-provoking. And as someone deeply interested in psychology and criminology, I found this to be a brilliant exploration of both. The characters are so well-developed, especially the twins and Tenma (who is honestly one of the most underrated protagonists I have seen) and though I was first off-put by the older animation style, I have actually come to like it a lot since it's very unique and suits the setting and atmosphere perfectly.

There are so many different layers and themes that I will never tire of trying to analyze them all, and there's especially a certain thrill to watching how all the pieces of the puzzle connect together, especially when we get an understanding of how Johan perfectly manipulates others so that they essentially follow the designs of their own downfall.

But one of the very few people to resist Johan's plots and to even come close to destroying him is Tenma.

Tenjoh is so fascinating, both as a ship and only as their canon interaction, because of how deeply personal and complex their relationship is.

Tenma saved Johan's life years ago, a choice that essentially ended his career for him and led to his life being significantly altered. When Johan returns, revealing himself to be the person responsible for so many deaths, Tenma feels guilty for "creating" the monster that Johan became. However, even though Johan kills everyone who knows about him, he spares Tenma as both a sign of respect for the doctor saving his life and because he wants to drive Tenma to kill him, therefore proving Tenma's ideals that every life has value wrong.

Not only is there something darkly poetic in Johan wanting the doctor who brought him back from the brink of death to be the one to kill him, it's also just as suiting that Tenma at first wants to be the one to kill Johan, feeling it was his burden to end the monster he'd "revived." But despite many opportunities given to him, even by Johan himself, to kill the evil mastermind, Tenma still couldn't do it.

I have so many thoughts on them and would love to write a meta about it someday, but all I can really say for now is they're quickly becoming one of my top ships ever.

[justfangirlstuffs]

OK. OK. YOU GAVE US SOME CUTE LITTLE SCENES WITH VAMPIRE SUN AND MOON. LET ME GIVE SMOOCHES TO VAMPIRE ECLIPSE

Okay, okay... -sighs- Here ya go. <3

CW: scary scenarios and violence

You x Vampire!Eclipse (sorta)

It was an unfortunate yet not unusual set of circumstances. You had been kept late at your campus job and the last bus you missed by ten minutes. You thought about calling someone to give you a ride but you reasoned it wasn't that far of a walk to your dorm. Just on the other side of campus. You done it before . You didn't like to since walking home alone in the dark wasn't your idea of a good time but at least it was the warmer time of the year so it wasn't that big of a hassle. Plus, you didn't want to be a bother, so you began the walk home.

About halfway there, your ears picked up the sound of footsteps behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder told you that indeed someone was walking behind you, trailing roughly a few yards behind. Immediately, your nerves were set on edge but you tried not to panic. Perhaps it was just another student walking home late just like you. Still, you picked up the pace a bit.

After a ways, you chanced another glance. The person was still there, keeping solid pace with you. Your anxieties increased as fear began to take hold, but you didn't break into a run, not then. You waited until you rounded a corner, and once you momentarily lost sight of them, that's when you took off at a mad dash. The sound of footsteps thundering behind you kicked in your fight or flight response. There was no way you'd be able to make it to your dorm like this, you would run out of breath soon. Then you came across a cemetery and remembered that some people used it as a makeshift short cut. Maybe, if you were lucky, you could shake off your pursuer.

You reached the cemetery gate and it was locked but there was enough space for you to squeeze through in between the opening. You were almost through when you felt a pair of hands. One grabbed your arms while the other clamped over you mouth to stifle your scream. You sank your teeth deep into the assailant's hand, drawing blood. There was a pained shout and the hands faltered, allowing you to wrench yourself free. You ran into the cemetery, too scared to look back, the taste of blood thick on your lips.

Halfway down the main path you cut through the headstones, working your way to the other exit. However, the sight of another figure brought you to a dead halt. You stood gasping from exertion body trembling. You should be running, you needed to keep running. Yet something about the air around you had grown thick and heavy. The figure resting near one of the gravestones was large and long-limbed. Even though you only had moonlight to see you could tell the figure was dressed to the nines. He lounged on the grass with a glass of what appeared to be dark red wine in one hand. When the head turned to look at you you found gleaming golden irises staring back at you from a grinning face.

“Well, well, I wasn't anticipating company,” a dark and velvety voice floated through the air, coating you in its sweetness.

The figure set aside his glass of wind and stood up. Oh, wow... how he towered over you. Your legs locked up and you found you could not look away from that amber eyed gaze. No matter how your brain screamed at you to run you were absolutely frozen. The very air seemed to press down on you, as though entertaining the idea of crushing you down into the dirt. A hand far too cool to be human brushed over your hair, caressed your cheek, and cupped your neck. The hand was large enough the fingers could easily wrap around your throat and squeeze if they felt so inclined.

The grinning face leaned down to meet you, and your heart thumped in your chest not knowing what to expect. Had you just run from one bad situation into something worse? However, staring into those golden eyes you began to feel a sense of calm. You could hear a voice and it came from everywhere and nowhere at once. Deep, and low, and unfathomable as the ocean depths. “There's no need to be scared. Everything is fine now.”

Your shoulders relaxed and your breathing evened out. You didn't even mind it when that grinning mouth pressed itself to yours and you felt a warm tongue cleaning the blood off your lips. Heat bloomed in your stomach and a soft breathy moan left you. Just when you thought that mouth would not stop until it had devoured every inch of you, the figure pulled away, leaving you breathless.

“Now, what are you up to so late at night, little bird?”

Before you could answer, you heard the sound of a twig snapping and you jolted momentarily breaking the spell you were under. You looked and saw the person that had been following you. You saw a glint of a knife in their hand, the same one you had bitten, that oozed blood. Fear resurfaced and you instinctively backed away, hiding yourself behind the taller, mysterious figure.

“Ah, I see now. So you're the one I have to thank for my peace and quiet being disturbed.”

The figure stood at his full height and your eyes widened as four arms stretched wide as though welcoming the assailant in for an embrace. Your attacker screamed, dropping the knife and turning to run. In a movement too fast for your eyes to process, the figure caught the assailant. There was a terrible ripping and popping sound and you saw something thud to the ground and roll away. You looked away, denying to yourself what it was.

Oh gawd, that guy... he was dead wasn't he? Were you next? Was that going to be you in a few seconds? You should run. Run. Why weren't you running? Why, it was simple, because you didn't have permission to. The tall figure turned back to you licking something dark and wet off his fingers. You caught sight of teeth that were sharp carnivorous. Those burning eyes surveyed you, gleaming impossibly bright in the darkness. They seemed to consider you for an eternity before they finally turned away from you. You felt the invisible hold on your being finally relent and you could move again.

“I'm not one to overindulge,” the voice crooned. “Run back home, little bird. This is all a dream you'll forget in the morning.”

You followed the instructions as though your life depended on them, and perhaps it did. You got home safe and the next morning you couldn't for the life of you remember how you'd made it home last night. All your mind could conjure was the fantasy of a blood-soaked kiss that made you shiver in fear... and want.

[martyrbat]

earth one bruce is actually the saddest version of bruce because he didnt even get to experience 5 minutes of zorro induced euphoria ://