#i GET their relationship was so rough and violent and full of repressed feelings and internalized homophobia

[iheartmoons]

ian constantly comparing his relationship with mickey while dating caleb is so heartbreaking to me, because he goes on about how not soft and caring their relationship was and while it may be true, he completely brushes over how mickey was so domestic and compassionate when looking after ian, trying to get him to take his meds and speaking so gently towards him etc

[bougiebutchbitch]

Please, Boug, won't you share some batjokes headcanons?

My headcanons are still marinating! Some of these are a bit unpolished, as a result.

I will say, I flipflop greatly between loving the unhinged main-comics-canon Joker who is utterly amoral and irredeemable and will gladly blow up a bus of schoolkids to catch his darling's attention (so long as the set up’s funny), and preferring the way-more-redeemable and fuckable versions in Telltale & White Knight, etc. The fandom feels pretty divided in terms of preference there, so some of my headcanons might not be everyone's cup of tea!

With Joker from the main comics, he and Batsy EITHER never fuck and their entire relationship is built on intense sexual repression and Batman only realizes how much he wanted to fuck this ridiculous clown AFTER Joker dies and then broods about that for the rest of his life

OR they both jerk off furiously after every fight, in their respective hideouts

UNTIL one time after a long battle that had a lot of collateral - enough to push Batman into his trademark cold, brutal (and, if you ask Joker, sexy) fury - Batman slams Joker up against the wall. Joker pulls his usual flirt-chicken routine, puckering up, asking if he gets a kiss now. He expects to be clapped in irons while his darling's lips twist in a sneer. Not to be rammed back against the wall, Batman's mouth crashing into his so hard it might as well have been his fist.

The resultant sex is violent and ugly. Bloody and raw. Batman is horrified at the monster Joker can bring out in him, repulsed by Joker himself, disgusted at how much he enjoyed it. As for Joker, he almost dies because Batman gets so rough - which is to say, he has a whale of a time From there, you have a bunch of fun directions you can go in!

Joker taunts Batman about this for the rest of forever but they never fuck again because Batman is in such epic denial, and Joker eventually gets so mad he blows up the entire city in recompense

Batman remains in epic denial, but they absolutely fuck again. Bruce tells himself he keeps fucking the clown precisely to prevent fate following that first route. Maybe he's right. But Joker doesn't believe him, and somewhere deep down, neither does Bruce.

They start properly going at it after every fight but Batman is sure to keep it impartial, dispassionate, just a physical release. Joker's content with that for a while, but eventually he starts feeling kinda used and hurt. He tries loads of 'couples therapy' (talking to Batsy, shooting him with various weapons, then when all else fails, blowing shit up). Nothing works. Eventually he hits the point where he does that whole dynamite double-suicide with Batman from the Catwoman comic, telling Bruce in his last words that he's tired of laughing. Batman has a chance to get away before Joker blows himself up, but chooses to go out with him.

THEN WE HAVE TELLTALE

Telltale John Doe and Bruce stay friends while John's in Arkham (following the vigilante ending). Bruce comes to visit every week, bringing chocolate milkshakes with lots of sprinkles once he's assured by the docs that it won't mess with John's medication.

John eventually gets let out on good behaviour to have full run of the grounds, etc. On that first day, he's so ridiculously touch-starved he almost starts crying when Bruce claps his shoulder (in a friendly, bro-like way) to congratulate him on how well he’s doing. They spend the entire hour with John piled on Bruce's lap, face buried in Bruce's neck, arms and legs wrapped around his 'friend', begging for Bruce to give him a big full-body hug.

Cue Bruce having a very awkward flush of feelings.

Only - fuck. John's not the most stable guy. Now Harley's out of the picture, Bruce is the person he's closest to in the entire world - he's literally his only friend. John is obviously kinda attached to him, but as he's still shut in the asylum and doesn't really have much choice of a dating pool, the last thing Bruce wants is to take advantage.

Meanwhile, John, who has slowly been falling in love since the day he first met Bruce, is trying to keep his cool around Bruce and not act like a lovesuck puppy whenever he's near. Or at least, no more like a lovesuck puppy than usual. After all, Bruce is Bruce! He's awesome and rich and handsome! He's gotta have people - girls, pretty girls - hanging off both arms. Hell, in half the pictures, he does. Why would he ever be interested in a weird, gawky Arkham inmate?

TL;DR: MUTUAL PINING AGAIN, BUT WITH SEVERAL FEWER SPILLED PINTS OF BLOOD

OH AND BEFORE I FORGET -

In any universe, Joker gets kinda sick of seeing Bruce with girls all over him in the paper. And as killing people to get his attention doesn’t go well, he instead very blatantly hooks up with some other guys - like Lex, or Harvey, or even Killer Croc - to make Batman jealous.

And despite Bruce’s fervent wishes otherwise... it absolutely works.

[glowingbadger]

FE3H misc. spicy HCs

I did a handful of general spicy headcanons for some of my FE3H favs a while back as a break from an ongoing fic I was working on, so I figured I'd post that over here too. Linhardt, Felix, Lorenz, Seteth, Jeritza

x gender neutral reader

18+ NSFW v

Linhardt:

Not a very high sex drive, but when the mood strikes it's fierce- though even if you're together for years you might not be able to tell he's horny until the moment he says something blunt and unabashedly lewd about wanting you immediately.  He’s very comfortable initiating.

Usually a bottom, as you'd imagine, but a power bottom of sorts; he feels completely at ease communicating exactly what he wants, what feels good, etc, and loves to be able to watch your body move above him.

Will learn your every single weakness, turn-on and sensitive spot and utilize them mercilessly.  He's absolutely fascinated by the minutiae of pleasuring you, mentally noting even small changes in your breathing or tone of voice.

Not very experienced to start, but a very fast learner

While not outlandishly kinky, he's open minded, and willing to try just about anything once- provided it's not too strenuous

Can become entranced and even aroused by seemingly odd, innocuous things- it's not unusual for him to catch an interesting color in your eyes, or a quirk in how you walk or move your hands when you talk, and find himself needing to express his affection for you directly

Very good with his hands, and very invested in foreplay; he becomes so enamoured with the subtle pleasures of touching and tasting you that it may be agonizingly long before it occurs to him to actually seek out his own climax.  He’s gentle in a way that’s almost unbearable, all making him something of an unintentional tease.

Felix:

Somewhat high sex drive, once he's with someone he's comfortable with- he's kept himself from intimacy for so long that he's a starved man with someone he actually likes

By the same token, he's not likely to come out and say when he's turned on. Fortunately for you, he's also not good at hiding it, becoming unusually handsy and a bit territorial with you when his physical needs arise.

Not very vocal during sex, but what moans he actually let’s himself make are raw, desperate and lustful.  Similarly, he’s not much one for dirty talk, since he’s generally focused entirely on the physical sensations, but you might catch him muttering “yes” or “mine” against your neck.

He secretly loves it when you tease him, but loves it even more when you're too dizzy with pleasure to speak clearly enough to give him sass.  He loves watching your expressions, always aiming for that post-coital dazed and over-fucked smile.

Sex is generally energetic and passionate, sometimes even a bit competitive; you may try to see who can resist cumming for longer, or wrestle to see who ends up topping.

He likes marking you with hickies, scratches, etc.  While not outwardly possessive, he does like to know that you're his (and vice versa)

He's surprisingly weak to compliments and praise, especially if it feels sincere.  Bonus points for moaning his name, or picking up on small details of what he enjoys and so on.  Basically anything that makes it abundantly clear that it's him that you want to be with and that he makes you feel incredible.

Even he is caught off-guard by how much it turns him on to see his partner being strong in any sense- strong willed, physically strong, anything that impresses him about his SO is also likely to deeply arouse him.  It’s especially gratifying to be on top of such a strong person and make them dazed and spaced-out with pleasure.

Lorenz:

An average sex drive, but he'll restrain himself for fear of propriety for ages before initiating anything more scandalous than kissing.

By that token, he’s extremely fun to tease, conspicuously blushing and stuttering over even light touches or a brief kiss on his neck.  In truth, he gets a real thrill out of this, but only admits this to you after a particularly brazen incident where you steal him away in an empty corridor for some heavy kissing and rubbing him from atop his clothing, then free him to go about his business for the day completely wound up and frazzled.

Certainly the type to “make love” rather than fuck, unless he were with someone for long enough that they would request something more rough from him, and he trusted that they would instruct him.

Adores spoiling his lover; scented oils, massages, long hot baths, the works.  Your pleasure is his foremost priority.  As such, he takes instruction very well- more than happy to do exactly as you say and revelling in any moans or words of encouragement he can earn from you.

He finds it ungentlemanly to be on the bottom and “make you do all the work” unless you really insist.  Generally, he’s more of a service top.

Loves giving his partner oral and could easily keep at it until you need him to make love to you.  Your taste, touching your lower body, the sounds you make- he’s absolutely intoxicated by every part of going down on you.

Somewhat surprisingly, he’s more than happy to indulge in dirty talk, but less surprisingly, it tends to be deeply poetic and romantic.  That being said, he’s more than happy to hear you utter any sort of filthy words he may inspire in you, as it means he’s performing well.

Seteth:

This is probably showing my favoritism, but my personal very headcanon-y headcanon is that Nabatean men are better endowed, have greater stamina and “fecundity,” and so on compared to humans, given being like near-godlike themselves (at least at full power) and since, even before the massacre, there didn’t seem to be many of them overall, so greater fertility would be a valued trait.  But really this just comes down to me being hot for Seteth, okay?  Just let me have this.

He’s fairly sexually flexible, given how long he’s been around, but it will take a long while before he’s ready to let himself express his (predictably pent up and frustrated) desires for you openly.

Once the physical part of the relationship has started to open up, however, he’s intense, focused, and thorough.  He wants to touch every part of you, hold you as close as he can, and satisfy you utterly and completely.

A big post-sex cuddler, as he’s got strong protective instincts and wants you close and safe.  Even more so if the sex got really rough and you’re both coming down from that high.

While there’s certainly a bit of a “repressed beast” situation in regards to his libido, he’ll generally let his partner take the lead in suggesting kinks or experimentations.

He’s a Switch and enjoys power play- either pinning you down and verbally dominating you, or begging to be tied up and used.  It never gets overly violent, but the psychological element of a sub-dom relationship plays into his authoritative personality.

He has a strict “no physical contact during work hours” policy, but if you catch him working late into the night once everyone else is gone, you may become very familiar with the surface of his desk.

Jeritza:

Similar to Felix, his sex drive can be pretty high, but only after the long and difficult process of getting him to actually open up to someone.  Once he’s come around to actually liking a person, however, he’s deeply enamoured with their body.

An odd mixture of sweet and intense- catching you in deep, erotic kisses, but also more than happy to fuck you into the mattress or against a wall.

He loves to affect your body in any way he can.  He wants to know how much he turns you on, hear your moans, feel your body tense and your nails along his back and through his hair.  Overall, he responds very well to an active and expressive lover who will show him exactly how much they want him.

You’re gonna have to find a way of coping with the Death Knight, unfortunately.  This is why Jeritza is actually not as “violent” as you may expect in bed, as that can trigger a personality lapse, and the Death Knight is absolutely a fighter and not a lover.

Can actually be pretty damn kinky, even initiating some new things that you may not have expected.  That said, he refuses to tie you up, for fear of slipping up and hurting you.  He’s perfectly alright with being tied up, though he remarks that it’s fairly silly, given he could easily break out.  In fact, breaking out of restraints might become part of the kink itself.

Pretty big into food play- he definitely wants to lick up ice cream or syrup off of your body, and will absolutely lose himself in the sensory experience of it all.

After a battle, he especially craves intimacy, as being raw and passionate with another person who he somehow cares for tethers him to feeling “alive” and being Jeritza, rather than the childlike Emile of his past, or the bloodthirsty Death Knight in his psyche.

[dirtyrottenraskel]

my take on yueki's personalities

yue 

notes / personality

cocky (but also like understated confidence - r e g a l af) 

kind of a nerd

maybe a little entitled, and a little bratty and suki loves to indulge her or to rile her up depending on her mood

books

seems soft but made of steel

strong sense of duty

socially intelligent - can be manipulative and suki (the dork) thinks it is so hot 

aloof queen bee typa beat

supportive, both in ur day to day and in going after your big moral life goals 

deep water - steady and powerful, often underestimated

untold depths, private yet surprisingly nurturing - master of deflecting away from herself

political nerd - well read, and when she has someone she trusts not to take advantage of her, she goes OFF 

distrusting of most people, has been used and ignored and underestimated her whole life

patient - homegirl knows how to play the long game

excellent at pai sho / chess 

she and suki have epic battles of wits - dif types of strategy but both are really into it and get a little too competitive (multiple board games have had to be replaced over the years)

loves travel bc wasn’t allowed to much, esp when she was sick 

was super repressed growing up - never let her be herself or really have any sort of independence

used to sneak out and wander around in rebellion and casually sabotage plans and decisions she didn’t agree with 

introverted, many opinions but keeps them to herself, discreet but well spoken

weaponizes secrets and information - doesn’t often use it but...she could

definitlyyyyy worries and overthinks and re-evaluates - worries ab social politics a lot

obsessive about picking things - wants it to be perfect

shes growing into her confidence as a leader

prefers quite intimate places

incredibly romantic

classic lit

planner for the future - visionary

kind / sweet / gentle - yes, but that’s also her “front” to a degree (seriously, i feel like she gets painted as so sweet and submissive and one dimensional by the fandom a lot of times and it freakin kills me)

INFJ-T (The Advocate) ((yes this is from 16p which i know is not super accurate but u can still catch her overall vibes from it ya know)

Creative/insightful/principled/compassionate/altruistic

sensitive/reluctant to open up/perfectionist/prone to burnout/not a fan of the ordinary

friendships / relationships

(<> indicates that they’re one of her best friends)

sokka - puppy love crushes, laugh ab it now, get into deep late night talks about responsibilities and leading, water tribe culture, prank wars (no one believes sokka when he says yue is a mean prank master (expect suki comes to see it in action lol))

katara - <> badass women friendship, totally would go to matches and protests together, tough girl shit, waterbending practice/duels - start of cautious, but then get rough in a good way bc they trust each other, they do water tribe food adventures together

toph - indulges her chaos, bonding over stupid royal upbringings, odd yet weirdly endearing pair

zuko - both sort of standoffish gay royals, but once they come to see that they are friends - take up similar spaces though, so only hang out in a group or rarely by themselves, they do hang out at like political parties and stuff when they get more comfortable together

aang - <> he has an impressive world view, yue is super studied and well read, so she and aang nerd out over past cultures together, and also their peace keeping nature, they have tea together often - usually after she and katara wipe the floor w/ each other

clothing / aesthetic:

blues and pale colors

classy and understated wealth

like those cute feminine button down shirts

dresses

like cold weather classy

complicated braids

sort of soft girl aesthetic?

pleated skirts !!!

i feel like she would wear ethically sourced fur (i don’t wear fur but idk how to get it in an ethical way - maybe it’s just fake??)

knit sweaters and skinny jeans and heeled ankle boots

light academia !!!

hella funky earrings - to mark her native pride and also cuz gay

from my readings, tattoos have a lot of cultural significance for Inuit women, and so i feel like yue would totally have some (when she comes of age ofc) 

suki

notes / personality 

extroverted 

also very strategic 

more spontaneous tho - will totally calculate the odds in a spilt second in her head and then just go for it

like still a careful planner, but willing to say fuck it, yolo if it seems right 

reflects on her mistakes, but more in like a healthy way - unless it was a leadership mistake, then it eats her up inside - worries more ab keeping her girls safe and making the right call

likes lively places

total bashful romantic

manages the present and the short term - realist

loves to do lists 

a little punch happy - loves to make violent threats, but also does it out of excitement and she’s just a really physical person tbh

steady, can come off as stubborn and abrasive but she really just wants what’s best for everyone she loves

harsh on herself and worries about her girls a lot 

always ends up in the oddest situations 

totally would kick someone’s ass for being racist/sexist/homophobic/etc 

dedicated to her training and her regime 

not a great cook, but she can manage 

would drink monsters 

has a weird relationship with femininity - took her awhile to reconcile strength and toughness and being assertive and aggressive with also wanting to feel pretty and feminine and embracing being a girl and how those things can coincide and amplify each other

abandonment issues - parents absent/dead 

was imprisoned - obvi she had several almost successful escape attempts, but she got really close to breaking 

was incredibly independent really early, grew up really fast and tries to make up for that now by sometimes being reckless 

tough/assertive/woman of action 

dry sense of humor/sarcastic - not good at nickname/pun humor tho

practical/dedicated/strong-willed/direct/honest/reliable/loyal/patient

stubborn/judgmental/difficult to relax/difficulty expressing emotions/too selfless 

friendships / relationships

(<> indicates that they’re one of her best friends)

sokka - <>  man they’re like platonic soulmates - she beat him up, and now they spar all the time, totally funny and crack jokes all the time, go skating together, they do shitty art together, and then show their lovers after zuko and yue come back from their high society mixers, broke her out of prison, m/f friendship !!! 

katara - also sparring buddies (suki will throw down at any literally moment (and tbh so will katara)), not close but will hang in a group - go to each other for advice 

toph - <> listen these two wreak havoc together, they help each other out a lot, i feel like they’re shopping buddies (similar enough style to frequent the same shops) toph knows suki won’t judge her for wanting to feel pretty and suki knows toph will be honest, they are both blunt sarcastic assholes and get along like a house on fire 

zuko - <> shows zuko how to like,,,enjoy things (and how to let go of some of that pressure to be always right and the adult and in charge bc they were raised with so much responsibility on their shoulders even tho they were just kids)? she is also super protective of him (once she trusts him), one of the only ppl who can match suki fully in hand to hand combat, both do the Disappointed Parent Look when the group falls into chaos, but by themselves, the two of them end up in hijinks

aang- suki enjoys his optimism and they’re just chill bros, they love exploring abandoned placed together 

clothing / aesthetic

sporty and skater mixed 

ripped jeans, crewnecks, vans 

green and yellow and dark red 

gym clothes/athleisure - lifting style gym clothes - cut off t-shirts and bike shorts

skirts too, likes to play into femininity

she’s a gold jewelry kinda girl - but stuff that won’t hinder her movements 

necklaces that end in the hollow of her throat & occasionally rings

definitely cuffs all of her jeans (it’s just bisexual culture ya know)

so many crop tops - some came like that, some were more of a diy project

yueki’s relationship!!!

nerd/jock solidarity 

feel the burden of responsibility and the weight on their shoulders 

they create a safe space between them, full of trust and warmth and vulnerability 

yue will read suki sappy passages from poetry books while suki polishes her fans 

they slow dance in the kitchen a lot 

they get good at ordering takeout - and they have some weird decision making process that only they understand - bc neither of them are great cooks 

yue would feel jealous of suki and sokka, if it weren’t for how stupid in love sokka was with zuko and yue can see that suki really only has eyes for her 

yue is taller than suki and it amuses her to no end to pick suki up and carry her away from a fight (we all know suki could get away if she wanted to, but when ur hot tall sexy gf throws u over her shoulder,,,,,,u don’t complain)

joke they’ve adopted kataang and zukka, bc they’re all dummies, but in reality every last one of them is stupid LMAO 

they love to do each other’s hair and it’s like super intimate and really cute 

sometimes it’s these epic elaborate hairstyles and then at other times, they try to see how many ponytails they can fit on suki’s head and how many little braid yue can do 

they travel EVERYWHERE 

since yue is royalty and suki is her body guard,,,, well i mean, they totally have to see these kingdoms they are doing trade deals with in person 

it helps that they're friends with a lot of them 

they stay over in everything from camping so they can stargaze to ritzy hotels with hot tubs in the bathroom 

yue gives suki rocks she finds on all their travels and suki lines them up on their mantle around the pictures of them in increasingly weird locations 

suki loves guarding yue’s meetings bc she gets to watch her absolutely rip a new one into misogynistic old men and it never fails to bring her joy 

While yue doesn’t love getting attacked, the ruthless efficiency suki defends her with is like,,,,,stupid attractive 

[fantastic-rambles]

Hi! I see that you appreciate ADAM’s characterization, so I wanted to talk to you about my theories for how the series could end for him if that’s okay.

Obviously there’s the semi-dropped plot line around him going to jail for political reasons. Tbh I hope that they’ll just bring that up at the very end of the tournament/ep 12 so that it doesn’t have much bearing on the characters developments until then.

My best scenario, is that Reki does skate against ADAM because he’s surpassed his own fears to have fun. Like the first time where he wasn’t afraid to lose because it was more about trying.

But now that Renga has reunited, the tournament isn’t nearly as exciting for ADAM because the friend group is over his antics and Langa doesn’t particularly care about him anymore. (I totally think Reki represents the Apple in all of this biblical reference stuff. Wisdom that love and fun cannot be gained simply by being the best or being dangerous when skating. Especially since Tadashi [SNAKE] is literally bringing him into the Eden tournament)

That would leave Langa and Tadashi. I honestly think that if a fair match between them goes on without any interruptions, SNAKE can win. Then with the final matchup between Tadashi and Ainosuke, it can go 2 ways.

1. Tadashi tries to take ADAM down. He fails or succeeds solely on technique. Either way probably ends in a dramatic end to S.

2. Tadashi also recognizes the value of love and fun that he has rejected/suppressed all these years. He is able to better understand the root of ADAM’s searching for an Eve (filling Tadashi’s void) and why Ainosuke is so hurt by him/angry at him (Tadashi pulling away from their relationship). Reki planted the seed in the love hotel, and if Tadashi accepts it, his participation becomes more about embracing love that was squashed years ago when he prioritized Ainosuke’s image over their relationship. Tadashi sees his value outside of his class standing as a person and companion. He stands up for Ainosuke instead of against him, and they can skate/move forward together.

I think that the 2nd option is far more interesting and gratifying. Especially since it’s more likely to lead to ADAM recognizing the flaws in his way and turning towards redemption/help by the end of the season. It would also be a really good ending to their arcs together since I really think that they’ve been set up as a queer allegory. I’ve read super interesting analyses on Twitter that show their character choices as being two different ways of coping with being closeted. Ainosuke lusting dangerously after those he doesn’t really care about and acting out violently against those who love him. Distracting himself the feelings he is not allowed to deal with in daylight. And Tadashi repressing his feeelings for the sake of the man most important to him. To have a hopeful/positive conclusion to their struggles as a central plot line would be nice.

Also don’t feel pressured to answer this. I’m just obsessed with their stories and a sucker for first loves + requited mutual unrequited pining lol

Heyyyy fellow non-Adam-hater!

I do think that Reki will end up skating against Adam (though I currently can’t imagine why he would possibly agree to do so--the best guess I have is Tadashi asking him to based on the argument of “skating should be fun” and that Adam isn’t having fun), getting fucked with since Adam wants to prove to Langa that he’s better than Reki (because Adam doesn’t understand that “love” doesn’t work that way, since his “love” is all about finding someone who can skate on his level), and losing, but without getting depressed (and possibly injured) like before.

I know there’s a huge fandom wish that Tadashi will train Reki and Reki will beat Adam, but... if the producers are going to be somewhat “realistic,” that’s not going to happen. It’s been firmly established that Reki isn’t on the level of the top skaters (both his own realization and his talk with his manager), and a sudden crash course in a day or two isn’t going to change that.

But I do think that Adam will still have fun during the tournament since he’s wildly delusional and thinks that he can win Langa’s “love,” and for the longest time, it did appear that way (“love” in terms of thinking of it as looking for/finding a skating equal, not “love” as in love), with how eager/excited Langa was to skate against him, to the extent that it even fractured his relationship with Reki (though I blame Reki more for that).

I feel like the Langa/Tadashi match is more of a tossup. I’d like Tadashi to win, but I believe that Langa will (unless he gets outraged by Reki’s treatment and forfeits/abandons the race--tasting the forbidden fruit and leaving Eden). If it was a straight skating race, then, yeah, Tadashi would win, but I think that Langa’s spontaneous improvisations will turn it in his favor even though he lacks Tadashi’s level of skill. I mean, he can cut across half the course by going off the cliff at high speed, so..... *laughs*

If it did come down to Adam/Tadashi, though, I feel like Adam wouldn’t be motivated, just like when he was racing Cherry. He wouldn’t do rough play or hit Tadashi in the face with his skateboard because they wouldn’t work on Tadashi, and he would be trying to win since winning races is how he proves that he loves skating more than anyone else (and also because if he loses, he has to quit skating). But I don’t think he’d enjoy it. I would love for them to have a reconciliation and for Tadashi to become Adam’s “Eve,” but I feel like that bridge has been well and truly burnt by years of misunderstandings/resentment (resentment from Adam to Tadashi, but not the other way around). I don’t see how a realistic full reconciliation can be made in one episode (though the groundwork for a reconciliation could possibly be laid). :(

The queer allegory is really interesting and definitely fits. Especially since Adam has been raised to always consider his appearance and how it’ll affect his family, and physically abused when he doesn’t meet expectations. And then he also admits that the only time he’s free is when he’s skating, which is when he’s openly proclaiming his love for just about everyone, lol.

Though if Reki is the apple/forbidden fruit (which I do agree), I think that means that Reki is the one who’s going to spark a change in Adam, not Tadashi. By not giving up and still having fun even when he’s losing or being thrown around by a violent psychopath, it could remind Adam of when he was younger, when he was skating with Tadashi and just having fun (or possibly serve as a parallel to when he got his board burned). If it does turn out that way, then I can see a path for Tadashi being his final opponent to bring both of them back to that time. Though I still feel like the final race will end up being Adam/Langa since that’s what the show has been driving towards ever since their first race was interrupted.

Adam’s arrest will definitely come at the end of the show, though. I don’t see the producers leaving the main plot line without a conclusion before they tie up the subplot which has basically only appeared once, lol.

So yeah, I absolutely realize I’m being self-contradictory in this post, but that’s why I’m fantastic-rambles. I just spew whatever bs and random thoughts come to my mind. xD

[fallen029]

I’ve been trying to get a part of OpB out a month, but this month I got swamped and just didn’t have time. I’m hoping I get it finished by this weekend, but it might not happen, so for the ones of you who follow me over here, I thought I’d post the first half (or quarter, really), for you to read over. This part involves a lot coming together all at once, so it’s just been a bit of a hassle to piece together. 

I don’t usually post OpB shit over here and I’m not going to start, but if you see this and wanna follow the rest of it, it’s over on Fanfic and Archive. You don’t have to be all caught up or even read any of the rest of the Remember Me shit to understand it. It stands on it’s own, loosely in the Fairy Tail realm, focusing on the slave trade in Bosco. Nearly full OC, and kinda just me indulging my own shit a bit. It’s not for everyone, but I rather like it. 

.

Operation Bosco: A Call to Arms, IV

it was always strange.

The feeling of it.

Waking up.

Since Haven had been revived following the mishap on the gauntlet, it was always a bit of a jolt, first thing, as her eyes peeked open and she was greeted to a new day. There were some difficulties in adjusting, right at the start, to the feeling. Her chest would get heavy and the breaths she drew in always seemed to burn, just a bit, as the scarring over her stomach itched.

For as bad as the nights were though, the mornings made it worth it.

She’d never really taken a break. Before. Had always been on, constantly. From the day her parents let her start snagging the fliers off the job board, she’d either spent her days completing them or training to be able to do so.  Days were meant for toiling and nights were meant for getting fucked up in her father’s guildhall. Her mind was focused on very few things and everything felt simple. Easy. Broken down.

Get stronger and reward yourself along the way.

But when she was revived, things were different. She couldn’t take jobs right off the bat, she was too weak to train in the first few weeks, and her father no longer held a guildhall for her to act out in, with not too veiled hopes of gathering his attention.

Everything was different.

Locke had to go back out, on jobs, and even once she was up to training, she had no one but her boyfriend’s father or Ajax to do it with. Navi was gone, Locke now had friends, real friends that he wanted to spend time with, if he wasn’t out, and it was jarring.

All of it.

Her family was there, but she was trying to ease back into those relationships and they were dealing with their own trauma, what with her coming back to life and her father disappearing in the middle of the night.

She’d spend days, both with or without Locke, at a bit of a loss as to how to get back to where she was. Or, honestly, how to be sure she’d never return to it. There was a call for the long stretches of solitude and peaceful atmosphere she was rewarded with, but at the same time, it felt far more like a punishment.

She was a woman of action. Strong action. Constantly falling in and out of dangerous scenarios in order to prove her worth. Those few months of either taking no jobs or taking one and needing a be recovery period was hard on her.

Very hard.

“I never want to be like this again,” she told Locke, more than once, and he only snickered, smiling even, in the beginning when he was still just amazed to see her alive and breathing, with him once more. “Don’t nothing. Sitting around. Waiting.”

“It’ll be different in Bosco,” he assured her and it was still a dream to them then, not fully realized or understood, what it would mean.

What any of it would mean.

She spent months getting stronger and him proving himself to the guild master, just to find their power and prowess useless. He’d spent the majority of their time away on guard duty, back on base or across the border, while her true powers had been suppressed and her new, fancy one she was so pleased to wield had only come into play once.

And for what?

So she could find herself folding clothes in a sweatshop, hoping to win the approval of women that saw her as little more than a kid. A fucking, stupid kid whose current placement in life did more to depress them than, perhaps, their current surroundings. Reminded them of their first time. Times. In new places, adjusting to the new regulation and lack of freedom they were presented.

There was a resignation, back in Ewings, but it wasn’t buried nearly as deeply as it was the majority of the women she was currently housed with. The majority of them were too old, had been under too long, and she was made known of this the second she tried to broach the topic with any of them.

It was a headbanging kind of realization, the ones she had every single day and night, as she tried to assimilate herself with these women. She lacked the nerves or fears she had, on Ewing’s manor, but they were instead replaced with frustrating jitters of wanting to do something, to start something, but not quite being able.

She didn’t connect well with other people. She never had. But it was now a major part of the job and, though she wished that both Locke and Shae were able to carry the heavy load in this, she knew that her position in the hoped revolution was very important.

One of the things that she’d learned recently from the short months she’d spent back home actually came during that down time she hated. And from Marin, her lame younger sister, of all fucking people. Marin possessed the potential for all the power in the world, but balked in her formative years, and instead had to build other skills.

She wasn’t great at it either, after all. Connecting to other people. And maybe that was Haven’s fault, at least somewhat, but whatever it was, Marin found ways to overcome it. Where Haven thought to prove herself physically and violently, Marin managed her natural awkward disposition in another way.

With her natural abilities repressed, she found herself accessing social skills in other ways. She learned things about people, rather easily. She served them beers and fed them filling food until they felt comfortable enough to express things to her. Whether this was intentional or not, it allowed her to easily transverse any other personal relationships she was forced to have with others. They felt naturally inclined to consider her something. Not exactly a friend and maybe not a confidant, but at least someone that, even when sober and starving, they could count on to be there for them.

The best part of this arrangement was that Marin hardly had to offer anything difficult up to others; she merely had to provide the expected level of care. This wasn’t exactly an imparted benefit on Haven through word of mouth, but rather observation. She watched her mostly quiet and reserved sister in the guildhall many times following her resurrection, and it was a very alternate experience from how Marin was once treated around the place.

By doing her work, she found an avenue that otherwise wouldn’t be easily presented to her.

Haven wanted to be like that. With her job. To do her job and make friends along the way. It used to be that way, anyways, when she was just a regular mage, running around helping others. She fell in and out of relationships in her time away from Fairy Tail, nothing serious, but her prowess had always spoken when she was unable. Helped her fall in with the people she needed in the moment who required her powers just as heavily.

But now she didn’t need them. Didn’t have them. Couldn’t use them. It felt better, honestly, than it had back at Ewings place, now able to at least use her transformation magic, but it still ached a bit, as it always would, whenever she couldn’t draw electricity through her veins at will.

It was depressing.

Just how things had felt, when last year’s long, hot summer had faded into the darkness of a new season. But now she was trapped in the dull shadows of a hotbox sweatshop, equally as shut-in and alone, but just for different reasons.

Sulking wasn’t productive though. Nor was her natural inclinations towards anger and brash attitudes. Shae and Locke were both out of their element and struggling to find ground, but she was given the easiest job of all; she couldn’t fuck it up.

She just had to gain the trust of a bunch of old women.

Marin did it with the older men in the bar, plying them full of beer and liquor and listening to their problems. Finally, for once drawing true inspiration from her sister, Haven found that getting frustrated with her position wasn’t going to get her anyways; she just had to do her job and keep her head down.

So she tried it.

Haven had always been kind of afraid of it. Silence. Left to her own devices. To think. After her ventures into the afterlife’s eternity, she found mostly that she’d never not be afraid of the concept. Silence was just too much for her to handle.

But without even Shae now, it was what her days were mostly filled with. And as she focused, tried hard to get the folding and sorting all down, box breaking and box opening, but fuck.

Fuck.

It was just hard.

But she seemed to be endearing herself more, this way. Or at least she thought. There was a woman, anyways, of the few that were on folding and packing duty, that seemed to not look on her as harshly as she once had.

She was a...hearty woman, Haven thought. Homely, maybe, was the word. She kept her messy brown hair clipped back and out of her face for the most part, but sometimes a strand would fall from its containment and she was mutter curses just loud enough for the typical blonde to catch. A dark, rough patch laid over the older woman’s eye and she cursed about it at times too, wiggling a finger beneath the fabric to deal with an itch.

She went by Bea, the woman did, and she was a glimpse into the world Haven was merely visiting.

It started just like that. Not so harsh looks and, eventually, her grumbling at Haven to take a seat, beside her and two of the other women, during lunch break, down in the grass.

There wasn’t much to talk about. They probably didn’t really have much in common, removed from their current position, but they were trapped, all of them, with the magical marker denoting them as less than, and if they only had one thing to speak on, then it made sense that they eventually would.

“You wanna ask about it,” Bea remarked one day in that gruff she had. They’d had a few conversations by this point, short and to the point. Grumbles over the food, the work, maybe on a too cool summer evening, about the pond water. But this time, as they sat together in the warm grass, sun bearing down on them as they scarfed down their lunch, it seemed different. The tone. The intention. “All the new people do.”

Haven knew what she was talking about, of course, but even for as socially inept as she typically was, even she knew that she was heading down the entirely wrong path. Quickly shaking her head, she had to swallowed the hardened sliver of bread and warm meat of some sort that they’d been served before saying, “N-No, I haven’t. I-”

“Things were different,” Bea told her simply and this, at least, hadn’t been the first time she’d heard such at hing. “Around here. Before.”

Haven paused, not wishing to ward off the potential for further conversations, but also being reverent of letting this once slip through her grasps.

“Before?” she asked softly.

“Before,” the older woman went on, “the current master. The young one. The son.” She almost sneered, maybe, shaking her head as she insisted, “He’s not nearly the...man his father was.”

“Did he...did he take your-”

“Plucked it right out.” She made a popping noise with her mouth that made a woman sitting nearby visibly appear revolted. Bea only reached up, almost absently, to sneak a finger beneath the flap, scratching with a sigh. “Punishments were stiffer. The work harder. What we were dealin’… But I was so young then. Your age, maybe younger. Things were just...different.”

“That’s fucked,” Haven remarked, but Bea only shrugged.

“I’ve seen yours.” Then she made that face again, that sneer, the finger slipping back out from beneath the patch so that she could gently tap the pad against the course fabric. “Well, as well as I can see somethin’-”

“What do you mean?”

“Your scars. On your stomach.” Bea raised an eyebrow. “Told ya mine.”

Which meant she wanted Haven to tell hers. It was probably the entire reason she’d brought up the conversation in the first place.

It was with a bit of a sigh that Haven thought about it. All of it. She had a lot of scars, of course, and wore them well, but the most important…

The fact it was even visible was her own fault, honestly. Her transformation wasn’t that draining, but she needed it to be perfectly even, refilled and never taking away too much. Leaving her scars where they were, hidden beneath her clothing, was an easy concession. And the visible ones only added to her credibility. But they all stripped together, each night, and even though the moonlight didn’t illuminate much, all light only revealed the most inconvenient. Or at least it always had for Haven.

“I got cut open,” she admitted, softly, and though it wasn’t the full truth, as she looked away and reflected, she told just enough of it that her pain was not only convincing, but real. “Died. A-Almost, I mean. I almost died. Someone was able to use magic to save me.”

“All that miracle,” Bea sighed with a click of her tongue and a shake of her head, “only to land you here.”

“Only,” Haven agreed, “to land me here.”

Things only seemed to look up from there. It was difficult, of course, to be too optimistic for the future when you were dealing in such a dank reality, but Haven did feel good about herself. Bea seemed to like her well enough, maybe, and though the other women all seemed to be distant, it was nice to have something of an in.

She felt comfortable in it, at least somewhat, and was very ready to shove it in the often doubting Locke’s face one day when she disappeared off into the shed, equally anticipating her boyfriend as she was the soda pop he’d bring.

Which was why, as he slipped in empty handed, she had a bit of a glare.

“Nothing?” she questioned. “I literally have nothing to look forward to and you still manage to disappoint-”

“Haven.” He rushed the short distance to stand before her, his goofy gaze rather harsh that day. Clouded. Concerned. Reaching out, he grasped her cheeks in his hands, forcing her to stare up at him, linking their gaze. “Something’s happened. Or is happening. I don’t-”

“Is it Shae?” She shoved him off, tossing up an arm and, originally intending it to crackle with the heat of electricity, she instead found herself merely flexing. “We’ll fuck ‘em up, Locke. We’ll-”

“No, Have, it’s…” He only frowned at her. “It’s you.”

Deflating some, Haven returned the gaze though hers was accompanied by a raised brow as she questioned, “What do you mean?”

He wasn’t quite sure, honestly.

The concern came from Shae herself.

Locke had the benefit (misfortune?) of being one of the guards sent up to the penthouse, not for their irregular defiling of select hostages, but rather to rouse Monty from where he was shirking on his duties. It had been with a bit of a huff that Wick chose him, finding the young man eating with some of the other guards in the dining room, and as he and Locke bounded up the stairs, his only offered explanation was, “You talk sense to him, Hux. He likes you.”

But he didn’t like Wick.

No one liked Wick.

He was a cold man, older than the other guards and from the old breed, Anderson had sneered to Locke once behind the man’s back. He kept to himself and mostly seemed to find his time spent trying to get Monty to do anything other than drink and hide in his arcade or penthouse.

It was a difficult task.

But recently, the Master had taken quite the liking to Hux and, while that was annoying to some of the other guards, Wick saw this as a new, unexplored advantage. Guys listened to their friends, after all, and if the new guard could, at the very least, supply an easy way to control the Master, then, well, his presence was worth it.

Up in the penthouse though, as Wick moved through the living area, unconcerned mostly with the women that hung around, and instead headed to bang on Monty’s bedroom door, Locke uneasily glanced around at the women seemed equally as uneasy to see him. He almost raised his hand to wave at their very pointed avoided glanced, but he didn’t have a chance as someone came rushing over to him.

Shae had spent the past few days sitting by the door, mostly. She avoided Monty when she could, but felt it very important that she get to Locke, as soon as possible. Being locked away in the penthouse, this felt completely impossible as the man, she knew, would avoid the place like a plague. Still, there really wasn’t anything to do, at all, other than slowly go insane in the place and though she knew she was meant to be gaining trusts of the women around her, she found herself far more worried over something else.

She’d gotten up. Right before he came in. To find what had been left for them to eat in the kitchen. There was more, here, than down in the sweatshop, but most of the women, especially those who’d been there long, seemed to survive mostly on their pills and alcohol.

But Locke came in, while she was doing that, and at first, the sight of Wick stalking through the apartment wasn’t a welcome one to the woman and she hung back. But as he was barking for Monty, Shae saw the man she was actually looking for and, not knowing exactly when she’d be given another opportunity, she ran right for him.

It was awkward, the next few motions, as she hesitated and Locke tensed, at the feeling of someone approaching him in such a manner, but then there was the awkwardness of all the women staring and one of them had to say something, but it had to be here, because she was the one who had something to say, and while he was too shocked for much more than his silence, Shae knew she need to get the information to him as subtly as possible and, well, given their implied relations by that point, she figured it wasn’t too out of the realms what she did next.

Somehow, it was even more awkward.

Locke pulled back, when he realized what he was doing and it was like pressing her lips against nothing, mostly his chin, honestly, as she leaned up, but not enough to account for how hard he was trying to evade.

Pulling away herself, just slightly, she whispered, “Haven’s in trouble.”

Locke blinked with a questioning, “What?”

“Take this.” And her hands had been wrapped around his neck, but one of her balled up fists opened then and a folded slip of paper tickled the back of his neck as it tumbled down beneath the collar of his tucked in shirt and came to rest around his hip line, right where his too tight cut off passage. Shae’s eyes were wild as she insisted to the man, “You have to do something.”

It was on instinct, almost, the way he nodded at her solemn tone, but again, the seconds in this encounter were stifled by another immediately following it.

Wick had been coming out of the bedroom then, chewing out an inebriated Monty while he was at it, but this stopped suddenly when he saw what was taking place. Shae still had an arm wrapped around Locke’s neck and he was still too dazed to do much about it. The sight, for some reason, caused Wick to shout at them, but his gaze was quickly somewhere else.

“Enough,” he’d growled, the older man had, and all the women, who hadn’t really relaxed the entire time, seemed even more uneased by the action. With a deep growl, he was stalking right back across the room then to grab Shae roughly by the arm and toss her to the side. “You will not-”

“Hey!” Locke bucked right up as Shae, fighting against all instinct she knew, forced herself to only fall away and not bite back at the man.

“Shut your fucking mouth.” And Wick turned to Locke once more, raising his hand and striking him, sharply right above his left ear. Having been raised on such things, if anything the feeling made the hardy mage almost nostalgic. If only the hit wasn’t so weak with no true iron behind it. As Locke blinked away the feeling, his direct superior only glared darkly into his red eyes. With a shake of his head, Wick insisted, “You will never do that again. Do you understand? You are on duty. And in front of her?”

“In front of who?” Locke griped as he resisted the urge to rub at his ear. “What are you talking about?”

But Wick just huffed then, turning on his heel and walking over to where some of the women were coward, wincing as he came close, but there was only one that he seemed interested in. Locke had seen her before and, though she hadn’t stood out to him before, he recognized her as one of the women that worked in the kitchen. Not marked. Hired help. She was the youngest one of them, a teenager, and Locke had mostly steered clear of the kitchen help, not quite sure how they fit into liberation.

He grabbed her though, Wick did, hissing something about how she shouldn’t be up here, right now, and she was wide eyed, the teenager was, nodding her head and being drug from the penthouse while everyone else stood stock still and eerily silent.

As the teen and Wick disappeared out the door, a beat would come to pass before Monty, the only one capable of breaking the tension laughed, drunkenly, shaking his head as he continued on then.

“C’mon, Hux,” he slurred as he came to weakly slug the man in the shoulder. Grinning, his glassy eyes found Locke’s as he remarked, “Gotta finish work, huh?”

“Yeah,” Locke agreed with a nod and, though he did glance at Shae, he turned to follow after the Master.

Monty stumbled down the stairs with Locke’s help and, with some more assistance, the mage managed to shove the guy into his office where, following, he was certain to close the door behind them.

“Wick’s just freaked,” Monty explained, going to fall into his chair. “That I don’t, uh, seem presentable to my uncle.”

“Your uncle?”

“Alwood.” He sniffled though, at the man’s name, Monty did. Raking a hand across his face, he groaned some as he said, “Man look’s out for me.”

But he couldn’t even think about that sort of thing, in that moment, Locke couldn’t. Instead, he only paced a bit, around the small office, while Monty continued to rub at his face trying to wake himself up.

“Can I ask you something?” Locke finally asked and Monty waved his hand a bit.

“Sit down and do it,” he grumbled a bit. “Giving me a headache.”

Hesitating, Locke glanced at the door before going to sink into one of the plush chairs that set before the desk. Softly, he asked, “Who was that? That girl?”

“I dunno,” Monty replied as he rubbed a palm roughly into one eye, the stinking eventually causing him to gasp and drop his hand. Then, dryly, he replied, “You’re the one fuckin’ her.”

“What? No, I meant… The one that Wick drug out of there,” he explained. “The young one. Who-”

“That’s Wick’s fuckin’ daughter.”

“He’s what?”

Monty snorted then, sneering some as he sat back in his chair and focused on the ceiling for a moment. “I’s a kid when it all happened. It was under my dad that it all happened. That fucker. Left me all this shit to deal with. And fuck Wick too. Asshole. Thinks he so good. So great. Knocked the woman up. Down in The Factory. Judges me. He does the same fucking thing. Did. Whatever.”

Locke shifted, a question on his tongue, but doing so caused the slip of paper down the back of his shirt to scratch against his back and, suddenly, he couldn't give a shit about Wick.

“Hey, man, are you going to be alright?” Jumping up, Locke forgot for a moment that he actually, sort of, had a job to do and straightened at the remembrance. As he looked over Monty, he added, “If I take off?”

Monty ran a hand for once through his hair, causing it to become even more disheveled. Shaking his head, he said, “Gotta, uh, sober up. Before Alwood comes around.”

Locke found it unlikely that this would be accomplished, but he had his own problems to worry about. Not only did he imagine Wick would be on his ass, should he run into the man again, but he needed to get that slip of paper and read it over as soon as possible.

His room was empty, thankfully, when he arrived at it. On occasion, the other guys would be lingering around to talk or try and goad him into going into town with him. They all got their checks every two weeks and, now with a sizable accumulation of cicles, the offer seemed like it should have been more enticing to him than he was displaying to the others.

But he didn’t want to leave the property. Not with Haven around. If he told her about it, she’d goad him into going out with the other guards, get to know them better, study them, learn something useful to the cause, but fuck that. He wasn’t leaving her alone on the property.

It was hard enough knowing she was so close and yet barred off from him the majority of the time.

His chest was pounding, as it had since what had popped off upstairs, but alone now, closed off in his tiny bedroom, his heart felt like it was trying to rip from his chest. Ripping off his shirt, he probably looked a foo as he spun around in a tight circle, trying to find where the slip of paper had fluttered off to, freed now.

It wasn’t much. As he found the white slip sticking out against his dark hardwood floor, his fingers trembled some and he was both disappointed and terrified by just how short in length Shae’s note was.

She had to be straight to the point, of course, and there wasn’t much there for him to glance over, but still, he found himself collapsing onto the edge of his bed as his eyes traced over the short writing.

Alwood’s taking Haven back with him. Stop her from going. I’ve heard bad things about him. She’s not safe.

The note didn’t tell him much. And though he tried to get what he could out of the guys he had patrol with the next morning, because of the former, he didn’t have much to offer Haven that day, as he stared with heavy concern at what, truly, was a strange woman, but exuded all the warmth (or lack there of) that his girlfriend did.

He’d spent the majority of his life trying to protect her. And others. It was in his nature, since he was a boy. He liked for all the people he cared about to be as safe as possible. This was a difficult task, growing up as a mage, but he always saw after his friends. Haven especially.

His whole point in coming to this place was for that exact reason. He dreamed of more, he wanted more, but deep down, it was the only thing that really mattered.

“Alwood is going to try and take you,” he told her simply. “But I’m not going to let him.”

Haven stood there for a moment, after his words, losing her tension and fear for Shae and, at least somewhat, gaining some for herself.

“Alwood,” she repeated his name softly then, frowning, “knows Ewing.”

“What?”

“I told you. That’s where I know him from.” Turning from the man, she could only blink in the darkness, her desire for static, not to draw, but to expel, pooling in the pit of her stomach. “What if Ewing told him about me? And he came here to get me?”

“Haven, I don’t think-”

“He knew me, Locke.” She shook her head some. “From the last time. When I was there. The first time. He knew exactly who I was. He’s connected and shit and is after me now, I bet, and-”

“If you need me to get you out of here-”

“What?”

Locke looked quite serious when she glanced over her shoulder at him. Softly, he said, “I’ll sneak you out. Whatever. That’s why I came. If you or Shae run into trouble-”

“I’m not in trouble.”

“What do you mean? You think some rich fucking sicko is out to get you.”

“Are you kidding? Fuck him. He’s after me? Ewing’s after me?” She turned quickly then, bouncing on her feet, seemingly amped. “Fuck him. He doesn’t know what he’s messing with.”

“Haven-”

“I’ll kill him. I’ll kill them all.”

“You’re not-”

“I’ll fucking kill them, Locke.” She threw up a fist again, still with no electricity behind him, but as the blow connected to Locke’s chest, he had to suck in a breath. Twisting her fist, she pressed harder into him, but didn’t stumble forwards, instead only hanging her head, arm taut and rigid as she breathed heavily down at their feet. Bravado deflated, she only whispered, “I’ll fucking kill him, Locke.”

“You won’t have to.” He balled his own fist, but it was only to crash it down on the top of her head, sighing some as he took in her new look. When she raised her eyes, they were dark and not her own, but the heaving of her chest alternated perfectly with his own as he tugged her to him. “I fucking will.”

Haven rested there for a moment, indulging maybe, if just for a moment. Shoving him off after a beat, she only whispered, “You can’t kill shit. Fucking worthless.”

“If you had killed Ewing back at his place,” Locke retorted with a frown, “then we wouldn’t even be having to deal with this shit.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“You’re,” he replied, “in trouble. You get that, right? This isn’t a joke. You can’t go back with Alwood. And if he’s intent on taking you, then it’s probably best if we start figuring a way to get you out-”

“No way.”

“Haven-”

“Give me time,” she insisted. “We can’t fuck this up. Shae upstairs, I’m down here, you’re a guard… This is too perfect to not be the plan. How it’s meant to be.”

“I’m not going to let you-”

“I’m not going with him. I won’t.”

“Then-”

“I don’t fucking know, okay?” Shaking her head, she asked instead, “How do you even know they’re taking me? Have you spoken to him? Alwood? Or did your little friend the master-”

“Shae told me.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “She, uh, passed me a note.”

“How does she know?”

“Haven, I don’t fucking know.” It was his turn to be annoyed. “How do you not know? If she does? I thought you told me you were making friends.”

“Friend. I’m making a friend.”

“Haven-”

“I’ll ask her about it.” Haven seemed to snap out of her funk, if only for a moment, as she snapped her fingers together. “I’ll ask her to tell me everything she can about Alwood and if she knows why he’d even want me, what for and all that, right? She’ll tell me. We talked, you know? Seriously talked. About-”

“You’re not going,” Locke told her simply. “With Alwood. If I have to drag you out of here kicking and screaming-”

“Calm down. Idiot.” Haven held her head higher. “I didn’t want to go with him either. I’m not going to. Especially not if he’s tangled with Ewing. That’s not why we came. We came to get access to tunnels or some shit, right? So I’m going to fucking get us that.” Then she conceded a bit, “We’re going to fucking get those. I’m going to talk to Bea and you’re going to actually be fucking useful and we’ll figure out how to avoid Alwood all together. When does he leave?”

“I don’t know. I-”

“Useless.” She shoved him this time, but it was playfully, maybe, and Locke pushed her back, maybe too hard, but he was kind of tired of being smacked that day. Still, when she sighed, he gave one back, only nodding his head when she ordered, “Find out. Okay?”

It felt weird, when she turned her head up to press her lips to his, and Locke laughed some into the kiss, which got him shoved again, but he only shook his head.

“Doesn’t feel right,” he told her. “Here. With...this you.”

She snorted, shoving passed him then, “if you could make yourself taller-”

“I’m going to find out when he’s leaving,” he insisted. “And if we haven’t figured a way to make sure he’s not taking you with him-”

“You worry too much, Locke.” And she clipped his name the way that he liked. Poised to head right out of the shed, she only reminded, “Do what I told you and everything will be alright.”

[lookbluesoup]

OC Meme

AWW YIS thank u for tagging me @wastelandwandererstuff >:D I tag @shadow-mockingbird​ @rogue-lavellan @not-a-courser @thewookieruns @robobrainmurdermysterytheatre (if you’ve already done this and I missed it I’m sorry please don’t feel obligated even though I am UNSPEAKABLY CURIOUS :’D ) and of course anyone else who wants to go for it :0

» NAME:  Nathaniel Christian Ronan. Answers to Nate or Nathan but NEVER Naynay.

» AGE: 26 when the Boom™ happened (a few days short of 27 (Oct. 27th), his military career showed promise, but his contract ran out shortly after learning Nora was pregnant and he chose not to renew it).

» SPECIES:  Human (Primarily Irish x Cherokee heritage, possibly some German in there)

» GENDER:  Male

» ORIENTATION:  Pan-Demisexual

» TITLE:  Army Sergeant before the big boom. General of the Minutemen; "Wanderer”/Agent; Silver Shroud; “Mr. Wright.”

PHYSICAL ASPECTS

» HAIR:  Dark black, kept relatively short but with some floppiness to it, usually a bit of a mess

» EYES:  “Old World Blue” Grey-blue with pale brown around the pupil

» SKIN:  Medium leaning toward tan, darkens considerably in summer and rarely gets sunburn

» HEIGHT:  5′7″ // 170.3cm

» WEIGHT:  133lbs // 60.3kg (dropped to 117lbs // 53kg during his lost drunkard phase)

FAMILY

» SIBLINGS:  One older brother, a Marine who was KIA during the invasion of the Chinese mainland. Nate doesn’t talk about him.

» PARENTS:  Father - Cato Ronan (military chaplain, full of religious conviction when sober, but often drunk and could be both neglectful and violent when courting these other spirits.) Mother - Adlevia Ronan (housewife, put up with a lot more shit than she should have, Nate absolutely adored her)

» GRANDPARENTS:  Paternal grandfather was a fire-and-brimstone preacher, convinced the end of the world was coming, died before Nate was born. Paternal grandmother was incredibly sweet but favored highly traditional roles, never quite approved of Nora or the lack of clear role delineation in Nate’s marriage. Maternal grandfather was a traveling showman, taught Nate ventriloquism and Nate often attributes his sense of humor to this grandparent. Maternal grandmother was unknown/never talked about, was not married to Nate’s grandfather and presumably abandoned both him and their little girl.

» OTHER RELATIVES: His in-laws were very invested in having a relationship with Nate. Nora’s mother was a retired Army General (Nate actually met Nora when her family paid a visit to the base he was stationed at). Her father was a doctor of medicine and veritable king of high class social circles. (Nora married “down” by their standards, but they did come to respect Nate.) He probably also had several cousins and a handful of aunts/uncles! His army unit was considered an extended family.

» ANY PETS?:  He is the pet. Piper definitely picked him out of a cardboard box on the street and he’s been following her around like a lost puppy every since. JOKES ASIDE He definitely had dogs growing up but Nora did not like dogs, and especially after Shaun was conceived his attempts to change her mind were met with counter-arguments worthy of the courtroom. He considers Dogmeat a friend rather than a pet. There is, of course, Legs Washington B)

SKILLS

» PHYSICAL BUILD: Exceptionally fit by necessity, but definitely needs to eat more. Used to crossing rough terrain carrying heavy gear for hours and hours. Healthy heart beats very slowly compared to average.

» ABILITIES:

Ventriloquism/throwing voice (you better BELIEVE he uses this to prank companions when they’re exploring dark creepy places)

Silver tongue and an excellent negotiator, good at promoting collaboration and inspires a peculiar kind of loyalty

An excellent singing voice and can play the harmonica (Stops singing after losing Nora for a long time, picking it back up again is one of the first signs he is finally recovering from his loss)

Good at cooking and makes a mean martini (caught Nora’s interest with his martinis, won her hand with his serenading)

Mother taught him to sew, hem, wash, and iron clothes (yes this is an important skill!!! D:< )

Learned lock-picking and some additional first-aid from his army buddies

Computer programming degree earned while serving in the military - good for hacking

Sniper training - marksmanship, field craft, tactics, IPB

Exceptionally calm in most combat situations, often enters a trance-like state when making a long sniper shot; mostly thanks to battlefield experience

O-negative blood makes him a universal donor which has enabled him to save several lives (but unfortunately is unable to receive blood himself in most cases)

Puppy-eyes. Puppy-eyes always win.

» HOBBIES: 

Collects flip lighters. He has so many. So many. They are stashed everywhere. Drawers. Cabinets. Tables. Under the bed. In your soup. You cannot escape them. You’ve tried. He tends to pull one out his pocket and do tricks with it when underlying anxieties bubble up.

Baseball. Everything baseball.

“Being sad is not a hobby”

Knows all the lyrics to a ridiculous number of songs

Can quote every Silver Shroud episode word-for-word

A good snowfall should not, and never will be, wasted or ignored.

TRAITS

—— POSITIVE ——

Exceptionally patient

Generous with his time, caps, and possessions

Empathetic and eager to help others

Unshakably loyal to friends and family

Open-minded and willing to consider new ideas

Collaborative in his approach to problem-solving

Cool under pressure, keeps his head in a crisis

Good with kids, a family man at heart

—— NEGATIVE ——

Poorly-managed PTSD

Resulting in:

Alcoholism

Repressing emotions/memories (and resulting night terrors)

Risk-taking behavior

General Anxiety

Depression

(though this definitely improves over time!)

Workaholic

Blind or dismissive toward the faults of friends/family

Prone to emotional detachment/distance in response to stress in relationships

He has a whole post about his dark side here actually //quiet gasp

» FAVORITE COLORS:  Moss Green, Honey Orange, Tyrian Purple

» FAVORITE SMELLS:  Ink and paper fresh off the press (I wonder.... why??) Bubblegum. Roasted peanuts. Nate also loves the campfire smell. He misses the clean scent of un-irradiated spring.

» FAVORITE FOOD:  His grandmother’s chocolate cake, gumbo, a good steak. Mirelurk egg omelettes are a post-war favorite, and he’s also partial to stew... as long as he knows what’s in it.

» FAVORITE DRINKS:  Nuka-cherry or bust. Coffee when he finds some preserved in Vault 88 - but rations it carefully. And purified water. Piper’s also gotten him into that tarberry stuff.

» FAVORITE ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES:  Pre-war he was a Gwinnett fan but had a fondness for fruity drinks too. After “Dangerous Minds” Nate had a complete breakdown and spent several months in a drunk and defeated slump where he mostly drank moonshine and chrome polish. Nowadays, he strictly abstains from alcohol, even as a painkiller.

[spookyscarydarky]

Body Pains and Regrets

Nothing too angsty, but includes strong emotions and relationships ft.  some Darkstache and DarkYan at the end!  

There are good days.

On these days, Dark feels relaxed and practically content with where he is.  The voices in his head are nearly silent, and his bones don't ache as much as they do on most days.  The others even seem to notice when he's having a good day and they go out of their way to be well-behaved, both for his sake and for their own.

But then there are bad days.  Days where he wakes up in agony, his ears ringing from his aura and screams of despair inside his head.  Days where everything hurts and he's plagued with regret and pain and fury.

He wakes up one morning and knows immediately it won't be a good day.  He could only assume his aura had lashed out during the night, considering the state of his room. His desk was nearly flipped over, and there were personal items scattered everywhere. Dark sucked in a pained breath and forcefully pulled his aura back in.

It was agonizing getting out of bed, as his body protested every movement he made.  Still, he pushed forward, knowing he couldn't afford to be bedridden today.  He had too many obligations, too many responsibilities as the leader.  He could only be grateful that everything he had to do today could be done in the solace of his office.  

He didn't bother dressing up in his full suit, instead throwing on a plain dress shirt and slacks.  The walk to his office was painful, but he refused to lean against the walls in fear of one of the others seeing him being so vulnerable.  Damien’s cane was hidden far enough in his closest for days like this; he couldn’t let anyone, especially Wilford, see it.  

He won’t admit it, but over the years he's grown uncomfortably fond of the others. However, even to this day he hates the idea of them seeing him in a moment of weakness. The voices in his head said as much, reminding him that he was the leader and demanding he acted like one.

Speaking of people he's become overly fond of...

He's close to his office when Yandere turns the corner in front of him, heading in his direction. The younger ego's eyes light up, and Dark feels guilty that he can't return the smile Yan sends him.

"Morning, Dark! Did you sleep well?" Yan asks sweetly. Dark is ready lie when a wave of pain rushes through him, taking him off guard.  He has to grit his teeth to repress a groan, which doesn't go unnoticed by the yandere.

"Dark, are you alright? You don't look so well." Yan looks worried, but it only makes Dark feel worse. It almost feels like fire is burning through his veins, and the ringing from his aura increases which only worsens his splitting headache.  Having a younger ego like Yandere, no matter how fond he is of him, is only ruining his mood even more.  

"I'm fine," Dark spits out, walking quickly past Yan without looking him in the eye. He can’t let Yan see the pain he is in; it’ll only hurt them both, and that’s something Dark wants to avoid.  "I just have a lot of work to do."

Yan eyes him suspiciously and reaches out a hand to stop the older ego from leaving.

"Are you su-"

"I said I'm fine!" Dark snaps without turning around. He doesn't see the way Yan flinches away from him, pulling his hand back to himself anxiously.  Before Yan can respond, Dark continues his walk to his office, fighting against the urge to limp from the pain continuously coursing through his body.  Fighting against the urge to punch himself for snapping at Yan so cruelly.

He wants to collapse on his bed.  He wants to cry.  He wants to apologize to Yandere.  But his body keeps moving forward.  

When he eventually makes it to his office he slams the door behind him, locking it for extra measure. He limps and collapses heavily into his chair, sighing. There's a moment of relief now that he isn't supporting his own body weight, but it passes too soon.  Once again he's overcome by the pain from his bones grinding against each other, by the pain of Damien and Celine’s tattered souls arguing back and forth insistently in his mind.

He has to reel his aura back in when he notices it begin to become more hostile, threatening to knock over his desk. He takes a deep breath to ground himself, grabs a pen, and begins to review his documents for the day.

//////

Nearly thirty minutes pass before he collapses on top of his desk, shaking violently as he tries to silently copes with the pain.

He can’t even think coherently at this point as his mind only fixates on the constant agony that surrounds him.  His head is pounding, and all he can hear over the screams of the voices in his head is the roar of his aura.  Dark realizes he hadn’t been keeping track of his aura and he looked up warily.  He winces when he sees it had lashed out at some point and knocked over his bookshelf.  He hadn’t even noticed…

Dark is ready to curl in on himself and accept his misery when the door to his office is slammed open.   Strange, he could’ve sworn he locked it.

Wilford storms into his office, effortlessly pushing against Dark’s overbearing aura with his own.  For some reason that lifts some of the burden off of Dark’s shoulders, and he gets back enough strength to sit up as Wilford approaches angrily.

“Yan is crying in my studio because of you!  What the hell did you do?  You know I-”  Wilford’s anger turned into confusion when he saw Dark’s overturned bookshelf.  “What the hell…so you’re knocking furniture over now too, huh?!”

Dark groans, both in pain and annoyed with Wilford’s presence.  The journalist is yelling at him, and Wilford is already loud when he speaks normally.  Just having his closest friend snapping at him when he’s still practically writhing in pain is enough to overwhelm Dark, and he covers his face in his hands.  His body trembles and he has to grit his teeth again to stop from crying out.

Wilford blinks, and his shoulders sag when he understands.

“It’s one of those days, is it?”

Dark doesn’t answer, he doesn’t know if he can even open his mouth without crying at this point.  The day has barely even started and he’s already past his limits somehow.  He feels like he’s suffocating from the pain and humiliation, and yet he doesn’t know whether he wants to ask Wilford for help or tell him to go away.  He’s thankful Wil chooses for him.    

“C’mon, you’re no help to anyone like this.  You gotta go back and get some rest.”  He knows that Wilford is right, but he can’t.  Even when his body feels like it’s failing on him, the voices in his head are still dissatisfied.  They still scream at him to keep moving when all he wants to do is rest.

“Wil, I can’t.  Th-They-“

“They can’t control you if you don’t allow them, Darky.” Wilford interrupts him.  The pink ego walks around until he’s behind Dark’s chair, and he helps the other up as gently as he can.  “If you need to stay in bed and recover, than you’re going to stay in bed and recover.  They can’t take that away from you, not when you’re in control.”

It’s silent, and Dark realizes a moment later that the voices had stopped.  Figures, Dark thinks bitterly to himself, they’ve always listened to Wilford instead of me.  Still, he’s grateful for the quiet, even while his body shakes from the pangs of agony.  He leans heavily on Wil, knowing the other will have his back.

“They’ve stopped…thank you, old friend.”

“Let’s get you back to your room, you look like hell.” Wil teases.  The two of them slowly make their way down the hall with Wilford supporting most of his weight.  The pink ego is about to joke about having to start dragging Dark when they run into Yan.  It’s a moment of deja vu for Dark, though the younger ego doesn’t look excited to see him this time.  The younger ego’s eyes are bloodshot, and he flinches when the two of them make eye contact.  Why does that hurt more than the torture he’s been through today?

“O-Oh, uh-I was just looking for you, Wil.  I was gonna-I mean, I’ll just go-“  Dark feels his heart clench at the sight of Yan stuttering and making excuses to get away from him.  It’s different from the pain he’s been dealing with, and yet somehow this is the worst he’s felt all day.  He’s responsible for why Yan is like this, and if it had been any other ego he wouldn’t have cared.  If it had been anyone but Yandere he wouldn’t feel as guilty and disappointed as he does now.

“I’m sorry, Yandere.  I shouldn’t have-“ Dark grimaces when it feels his bones are scraping against each other.  Yan worriedly looks up when he sees the pain Dark is in, and he looks to Wilford for an explanation.  

“Don’t worry, Yan.  He’s having a rough day, but he’ll be as good as new tomorrow!” The older ego reassures him.  Yan looks back to Dark nervously, wishing Wilford was telling the truth, or that there was something he could do to help.  

“Is he right?  Are you really going to be alright?” Despite the pain he’s in, Dark can’t help but smile.  From how he’d snapped at Yan earlier, he doesn’t think he deserves the younger one’s sympathy.  No, he knows he doesn’t deserve it.  And yet here Yan was, asking him again if he would be okay.  He doesn’t deserve him.  He doesn’t deserve anything, if he’s being honest with himself, but he has more important things to focus on now.  Like Yandereipleir.  

“Yes, I’ll be…I’ll be fine.  I just need to rest.” Dark reassures the younger ego.  Yandere sighs in relief, though he remains his composure in front of the two oldest egos.  

“Th-that’s good to hear!”  Yan was starting to get worried, but he feels immediate relief when Dark confirms that he’s feeling alright, even if he’s not at his best.  It’s enough for the him, and Yan starts to turn away when Dark stops him with a hand on his shoulder.  

“I’ll explain this more tomorrow after I’ve healed, Yan.  Wait for me until then, okay?”

Yan feels like his heart is going to burst from the unexpected attention and affection of Dark, but he forces himself to steel his reaction.  He doesn’t want to overreact and unintentionally drive Dark away (if only he’d known how much Dark was infatuated with him).

Before he can respond, Wilford is already dragging Dark across the hall to his room.  Yandere watches fondly after the two.

“I’ll wait for you for eternity, Senpai.  Don’t worry about me.”  Yandere whispers, preparing himself for whatever else he has to face before he can call Dark his own.

[thedrunkenminstrel]

Malk’s top ten ships

So @parttimebetawarrior did it and I’m nothing if not a copy-cat so I decided to be a pain in the butt and write a thing about my favorite fictional ships. Come to me tomorrow and this list will probably change and jumble around, but they’re still relationships I love from stories that helped me out. 

So check it out if you want. 

10)Yukiteru Amano/Yuno Gasai

Future Diary has a lot, and I mean a lot of problems. The girls are all fetishized to an uncomfortable degree, and a lot of the diary powers only make sense upon multiple readings viewings, and there are points of it that are just interesting drags.

But the relationship between Yuki and Yuno, as deeply unhealthy as it is (deliberately so) is a fascinating story of two terrible people falling in love. Do either of them deserve love? Maybe not? Does love make them better? Absolutely not. But they still need it in a world that has been cruel and awful to them, and maybe that’s the only thing that matters. Especially to a pair of broken, horny teens.

Plus they actually bang, and when was the last time that happened in a manga?

9)Rock/Revy from Black Lagoon

Two for two in unhealthy ships. Revy is a gunslinging berserker who has never known a peaceful life and Rock is a brilliant but repressed office worker who gets dragged into the crime-ridden streets of Roanapour. It’s a classic story of people from different worlds coming together like you see in movies like Titanic or Romeo & Juliet.

What makes Rock and Revy different though? Well, violence honestly, and each character’s relationship to it. Revy both disdains Rock’s previously peaceful lifestyle and is envious of it. She respects and even loves Rock in her own broken way, but can’t get over his naivete and his privilege that keeps him from understanding why she would do something like graverob. Rock knows he should be horrified and disgusted by what Revy does, but finds her and her way of life incredibly seductive.

8) Shirou Emiya/Rin Tohsaka from Fate/Stay Night

Yeah yeah, I’m tsundere-loving trash, what do you want from me? These two are great together though, and they compliment each other both in a relationship and combat, and it’s fun to see Shirou’s cool-headedness and dumbass bluntness bounce of the much more self-aware and insecure Rin.

And they respect one another, though for Shirou that respect takes some earning. There’s a journey here of both of them learning and becoming better people, as they fight through the insanely complicated world of Fate. Plus, Shirou grows up to Archer. He ages well. Good going, Rin.

7) Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams from the Addams Family

Ah finally, a healthy one. They’re creepy and they’re kooky, mysterious and spooky, they’re a functioning family unit. For all the weirdness of the Addams and how much people are freaked out by them, they’re undeniably healthy: endlessly loving and romantic to each other and equally doting on their… less healthy children. They do them and they’re happy, especially when they’re doing each other, and that’s what a good relationship’s all about.

6) Kobayashi/Tohru from Dragon Maid

Another anime with a lot of problems, namely in its loli and shota shit, but the relationship between Kobayashi and Tohru is something that makes the show more than worth it.

People argue about the sexualities of the character so I’m just going to say that I see Tohru as a lesbian and Kobayashi as bi. Much like the Addams, what makes this relationship work for me is the combination of the fantastic and the domestic. Tohru is a dragon with cosmic powers that cooks steak for her career woman girlfriend, and despite being a bit of a grump, Kobayashi is fascinated and engaged with Tohru, even though Tohru needs to learn to turn it down. There is a genuine tenderness to the relationship and a message of not just understanding each others’ differences, but learning to love them.

5) Peter Parker/Mary Jane from Spider-man

Okay, this relationship has been through its rough patches: retcons, a miscarriage, and that godawful ‘smoker’ subplot, but there’s a reason people keep going to these two: They work so well together.

People say Gwen Stacey is the best Spider-man girl, but they forget that Gwen’s hatred of Spider-man kept her from ever being able to love Peter Parker in his fullness and kept Peter from being able to be honest with her, but Mary Jane is the one who could take Spider-man and Peter Parker as a whole, noble, messed-up package.

Peter Parker, the self-obsessed nerd and Mary Jane the empathic party girl complement and teach each other. Mary Jane can understand and be there for Peter in a way others can’t, and Peter can bring the quiet intimacy she can never have in her life, though admittedly that comes with the stress of a superhero husband. 

4) 2B/9S from Nier: Automata

And back to my horrifically unhealthy ships. Nier: Automata’s a heavy game, dealing with existentialism and the cycle of violence. I’m pretty sure I’ve talked these two to death time and time again, but I love repeating myself so:

2B and 9S are creatures created for violence to do violence, specifically for a repetitive, cyclical war and have been defined by that their whole life. Through that entire thing, what have they had except for themselves? When you factor in the violence and resentment that has a weird parallel with a lot of real life relationships, you get something that feels raw and violent, but nonetheless filled with love and pain. That’s what the world is after all: it’s cruel and filled with pain and everyone is going to hurt you, even the one most important to you. But there’s hope and there’s love and we can keep going for that.

3) Kraft Lawrence/Holo The Wisewolf from Spice & Wolf

Spice & Wolf gets a reputation which, while not entirely undeserved, has more to do with its marketing than the content of the show. It was a show that surprised me so much the first time I watched it. I didn’t realize a romance show could be like this. I didn’t know fantasy shows could be like this. I didn’t know anime could be like this. It was so down-to-earth and subdued and, despite its fantastic setting, real.

Then there’s Lawrence and Holo. While Holo’s definitely a magical girlfriend who comes out of nowhere, it avoids the anime cliches. She doesn’t bring Lawrence into a world of adventure or save him, but rather they enter a partnership, and in the most brutal terms, that is what a relationship is.  It’s a level of maturity that permeates the relationship that I love. There is friction and dire points, and the characters screw up, but in understandable ways, and they work to amend it. The anime isn’t above some ‘hurr durr I walked in on her naked’ nonsense, but the two handle it like adults rather than like overactive cartoon characters. Lawrence himself will also actually flirt back with Holo and comment on her ‘nice tail’ ho ho ho. It’s nice to see a male lead in an anime that’s somewhere between completely agency-less and a predatory creep.

In any case, if you haven’t seen Spice & Wolf, please see Spice & Wolf, it’s the best romance anime made.

2) Okabe Rintarou/Makise Kurise from Steins; Gate

Hot damn, where do I start with these losers? I’ve made no secret that I find a lot of parallels between these two and my own relationship, an abrasive nerd who shows affection by being verbally obtuse and somehow has managed to gather a group of friends through some weird force of personality and a charming brilliant girl who gets easily flustered by the teasing, but also enjoys terrorizing the other party as well. I love the model of bickering made out to be flirting, and it never feels more genuine than here/

Beyond that, they’re just purely lovable people and their entire progression of romance just feels, again, real. They feel like real people feeling real emotions. They’re not as mature as Lawrence and Holo, but they do care and grow and ultimately, the show becomes about what you will do for the most important person in the world to you, as well as understanding what makes someone the most important person in the world to you.

If you haven’t watched Steins; Gate WATCH STEINS; GATE

1) Minato/Aigis from Persona 3

I played Persona 3 during a very hard time in my life. So that probably influences stuff, but boy. These two, guys. These two.

Minato and Aigis approach life in a weirdly similar way. Aigis has just entered into understanding what life is and Minato is a step away from the ledge at the point where they meet. Aigis is single-minded, and Minato is detached… it seems at first that the relationship is superficial, and later it is.

Being close to Minato hurts Aigis numerous times, including the most painful final time, but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t have done it or that it was worthless. Persona 3 is a game about how life will hurt you, but life is still worth living. That’s Aigis’ last lesson to learn by the end of the game. She ends up fighting not for the world of humanity, or even her friends, but for one man she found. And you don’t need to save the world to find meaning in life. All you need is something simple, like someone to take care of.

And damn are those not some of the best words ever put in a video game.

[ppeacherine]

Fairs and Fairs (Suzaku, Rolo [CG])

I wrote 5k words on on a rarepair from a show I haven’t watched in literal years.

I’m so good LMAO. Mostly a rolo-perspective third person because I feel more comfortable writing him versus writing Suzaku, oof.

“I don’t think you trust me, Lord Kururugi,” Rolo says coyly, narrowing his eyes and leaning back against the make-shift counter of fold-up tables for the carnival tent. A reckless use of his Geass for certain, but Suzaku nearly jumping out of his skin in surprise was worth the risk of reprimand. It wasn’t like he hadn’t used it for worse— “Coming to campus like this…”

“R-Rolo! Damnit, don’t—” Blinking quickly, he snatches a napkin from the table and covers his over-full mouth of funnel-cake samples. Knight of Seven dies by cake while in disguise, god, he turns on heel to glance about the fairgrounds… but, as expected, no one has noticed they lost any time at all.

The tent staff are just as confused at Rolo’s sudden appearance, but he’d played the part of mouse for so long they’d assume he was already there. It wasn’t like he stood out in a crowd anyways, or that people were prone to noticing him for being anything that wasn’t being Lelouch’s younger brother… which, the thought brings Suzaku’s brows down.

“Shouldn’t you be with… Lelouch…?”

“He’s back at the apartment,” a nonchalant answer with an equally nonchalant shrug that puts a frown to Suzaku’s face, “So I thought I would… ah, hmm, make an appearance for student council?” Rolo’s tone is too sweet, his eyes too big, and he slinks past the Knight of Seven as if his being here were the most innocuous thing in the world.

Turning to reluctantly follow after the younger man, Suzaku calls after, “Doing what? You’re supposed to keep him under surveillance–this isn’t really--”

“He’s puking, probably,” he must have sensed Suzaku’s eyes bug, and he casts a flat look over his shoulder in response while ferreting them through the crowd, “He has the flu. He’s not in danger. I gave him medicine. I’ve already taken care of everything, including scheduling an appointment for him to get a shot next season,” he recites it like a laundry list, obviously tired of playing keeper.

For a moment, Suzaku almost mentions that such a thing was Sayoko’s responsibility, but—that’s hardly the present they live in now, isn’t it? He goes still for a moment, a gaggle of students pushing past his shoulders. Here he was, on the Ashford University campus, and… everything was so wrong.

He was wrong, really, wearing shades and a coat he hadn’t pulled out of his closet since the last outing with Euphie. And now…

“Lord Kururugi, you’ll catch flies,” Rolo offers primly (receiving another grimace).

He takes a few wide strides to close the gap, grasping the smaller man’s bicep to push him through the crowd, “Don’t call me that out here. I’m pretty sure everyone knows Lelouch’s younger brother isn’t really best of friends with the Knight of Seven,”

“Right. That’s Lelouch’s--” Reflexively, Rolo’s hands fly up to catch Suzaku’s as the other reels. The locking of fingers about wrists, a tangle of initiation-versus-counter, pushes them haphazardly through the crowd. Rolo’s been in enough fights to know it isn’t worth resisting someone with this much strength over him, though. He ragdolls.

A girl snaps watch it, and the darling Knight of Rounds gives her an immediate apology—

Before slamming Rolo against the brick wall of one of the craft sheds. Now, they’re parallel to the crowd. Festival goers pour through the cobbled, blossom-laden main street to their left, the tents forming a makeshift alley about the shed that ensures their spat-slash-rendezvous remains unseen from the student gawking.

The Britannian gives a small wince before levelling his gaze up at the other. Unflinching, really, and it reminds Suzaku of the way his officers used to look at him as a recruit. The way the captured Black Knights turned their eyes at him, full of scorn and betrayal.

“Your mouth is new, Rolo,” Suzaku’s lips part one more time, only to purse tightly as he relaxes his grip on Rolo’s blazer.

Although his hands are unable to move away entirely. They’ve been pinned underneath Rolo’s own, and he only cocks his head to the side, as if this were a natural arrangement. This is the way one was meant to talk to their superior officers.

At this proximity, Suzaku wonders if Rolo has ever worn an expression that didn’t look like a wounded animal attempting to hide its injuries. Everything about him is soft, and maybe those eyes are just wide enough, empty as they appear under duress, to uncomfortably remind him of Euphemia’s.

“…Let go of me. Please.”

There’s no backtalk (pleasant surprise). Rolo releases his grip and quietly fixes his jacket. He’s unperturbed by the violent turn, and it leaves Suzaku wondering what in god’s name made him that way.

(not that he has to reach too far to guess)

“Your temper is new, Suzaku.”

Maybe if they weren’t who they were, maybe if it wasn’t now, the retort would be funny. It would be bitter banter between friends that look like not-quite friends to the uninitiated. The sort of attitude Lelouch gave Milly at her reckless behavior as student body president (and at her attempts to wrangle him and Shirley together before senior year).

But it wasn’t, and it couldn’t be. He knew coming here was a mistake, during the university’s cherry blossom celebration nonetheless, but nostalgia and melancholy and loneliness brought him here.

And it’s that mixture that keeps Suzaku locked uncomfortably in place. There really wasn’t any salvaging this interaction (and frankly, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to. Rolo was strange to put it lightly. At least, Rolo Haliburton was strange. Rolo Lamperouge was a different persona entirely, and it sours his stomach) but...

“I’m… sorry. It’s, the whole thing has me on edge. Lots of people… This wasn’t easy, Rolo,” He takes a step back to clear the air, and still the rise in his pulse.

Rolo seems unconcerned with the apology. He’d probably received half a dozen like it in the past, but Suzaku pushes the thought to the back of his mind, “Just, don’t call me anything regarding the Knights of Rounds here. And… I don’t want to—”

“Hear about Lelouch,” Rolo finishes definitively, “Understood.”

A beat, and then his voice lilts in a way that might have Shirley or Milly tripping over themselves at the sheer sugar intake of cuteness, “Ah, Suzaku, are you going to go back to the fair, then? Besides, I’m sure big brother—”

Suzaku drowns out the rest, staring in shock, awe, and more than a touch of horror. Lelouch was good at theatrics and making a show of things – Zero was ample proof of that – changing from one charismatic persona to the next. But this was… this was something else entirely.

Rolo Haliburton was strange, but Rolo Lamperouge might be worse if he keeps this up.

He’s not like that all the time is he?

There’s a nagging curiosity in Rolo that wonders why Suzaku is here as they walk. Part of him believes it’s a matter of trust or disrespect, like he’d mentioned before: that Suzaku didn’t believe some pretty, boyish assassin would be able to maintain a demure enough front to repress Lelouch’s memories of Nunnally and keep an eye out for red flags that said Zero was back. That he saw Rolo as a threat to the mission, or worse, a threat to Lelouch, given Suzaku’s obvious prickly (yet very protective) disposition toward the topic. His ultimate orders were to kill Lelouch if Zero awakened, anyways, so maybe it was to – god forbid – stop him from doing so.

Still, a Knight of Round should be prowling Pendragon, or by now, the battlefields in Europe. A knight that knew about Geass, furthermore, should not be this close to the University. The Emperor (or maybe even V.V.) would have better use for them than this, so Suzaku must be on leave of some kind.

It was completely beyond Rolo. To have the ability to just… stop, let alone do what he saw as essentially shirking duty.

He gives Suzaku a sideways glance, ill-timed since their eyes catch and Suzaku bizarrely turns away with the makings of a blush on his face.

This was another aspect of Suzaku he could not make heads or tails of in their interactions. Certainly, Rolo had been taught to use proximity and emotional plays to lull targets into a false sense of security, but small hiccups in their (few) interactions had led him to believe he didn’t really need to try with Suzaku.

It was like he wanted to believe Rolo wasn’t an assassin. That he was just some melancholy-but-very-sweet university freshman. That Lelouch wasn’t even part of their main reason for meeting, and Rolo hadn’t fished him out of prison in a foreign state.

Maybe Suzaku was just very awkward, and this was his default state of being. Or, maybe he was being too critical of someone who was obviously not meant for more delicate works of subterfuge. Considering his rough reaction to a bit of cheek regarding his old relationships, Suzaku was someone who was led more by their heart than their brain.

There was more there, too. The fact that he apologized for being rightly offended at Rolo’s toying was strange.

“Have you—well. No, that’s probably assumptive-“

He widens his gaze, attempting to cover up that incredibly telling, pursed look he got on his face when analyzing someone too hard, “hmm?”

“I just wanted to know if you’d been to a cherry blossom festival before. Or, any festival… They told me you were from—you know. But they’d never given me any other details.”

A turn of his head signals his confusion at the cautious phrasing, and he pockets both his hands, “No. There’s been a few on campus, and Milly – not Lelouch – has begged me to go,” a heavy sigh before he says more concisely, “I don’t like crowds.”

I don’t like being smothered, as wonderful as the positive attention from Lelouch was. It was fake. It was empty. It didn’t mean anything to or for Rolo.

“…This is your first one? Ever?”

Another shrug, and Suzaku finally forces his knees to unlock from their shock to catch up again, “Wait, come on. Let me get you something. This one is my favorite, anyways, and after earlier…”

He wishes he could say he’s seen enough romantic comedies to know where this is going. At some point there would be a large stuffed animal involved, if he remembers correctly. But he didn’t need Suzaku’s help to win a balloon popping game to acquire a stupidly overfluffed monkey, or lion, or whatever they had in stock at university knock-off fairs. Nor did he have any interest in acquiring them.

But he hasn’t seen enough. At least, he hasn’t seen any that involve knights and their traumatized best friends. Nor did they involve assassins, undercover agents, or other obviously dangerous motifs.

Really, he’d only seen one romantic comedy at Shirley’s insistence, but he can’t regurgitate that information quickly enough to stop Suzaku from pushing them onward. Rolo Lamperouge was bashful, but Rolo Haliburton, at this moment, was tongue-tied into a state of bewilderment.

They’re just flowers. Pink flowers.

They sort of reminded him of Euphemia li Britannia’s hair in the back of his mind as he tries to quickly pull up a mental file on how he’s supposed to respond to such a social cue.

Yes, he looks up at Suzaku as the other maintains a polite sort of bodily-shield to keep them motivating through the crowd of petal-enraptured students as pink twisted through the air like confetti.

Suzaku was someone that was led more by their heart than their brain.

What a shame.

“…Lor—Suzaku. I don’t know how to eat this,” he says numbly, staring at the multicolored, circular treats stuffed on a stick like a pastel aesthetic corndog. An inspective squeeze tells him it’s too sticky for his personal taste, and if he were more considerate as a person he might feel bad for the briefly dejected look on Suzaku’s face.

“It’s just like eating anything else on a stick. You… Just put it in your mouth,” and because he really has to sell it, “it’s sweet, it’s good, and no viewing is complete without hanami dango.”

He refrains from pointing out that this stand – and the bench near it – are the furthest possible things from the row of cherry trees on the main drag. All they’re viewing is other people viewing the blossoms. That, and the crushed, wilted remains of what petals have blown too far away from the road.

“Just putting it in your mouth isn’t advice that should be dispensed… liberally,” Rolo returns plainly, disregarding Suzaku in favor of reaching to peel one of the – no, he raises a hand to prevent Suzaku from once again invading his space (which only slows him momentarily).

“Haha, well, I mean, yes! But, hang on, you picked it up upside down,”

“This is really complicated for a rice ball,”

“Not a rice ball. Rice flour. Pounded. My freshman year here – well, sophomore too – I helped make some,” Suzaku says warmly, finally tucking into his own treat, “Still have all my fingers intact,”

“Piloting would be hard without all of them, yes,” the dango is gummy in his mouth, and a mixture of good manners and self-loathing stops him from spitting it out. It’s not overly sweet, but it’s not bland either. He can’t place it, exactly, and the proper way of eating it reminded him of the tanghulu he’d gotten on the streets during missions in China.

He ate that the wrong way too, in hindsight—carefully picking it apart to put the pieces in his mouth.

By the time Rolo is on the final one, despite still trying to pinpoint exactly what flavor it is, he’s decided he likes them.

Suzaku gets them two more, looking considerably more delighted with Rolo’s company.

“Did the swim club get stuck doing something… awful again?” Suzaku asks, tilting this way and that to better peer into the tents. He hadn’t seen any glimpse of what was arguably the most popular club on campus (he’s sure there’s only one reason for that, and unfortunately it wasn’t because of Shirley’s phenomenal butterfly stroke). Ordinarily they’d be on the center stage, but it’s weirdly empty. That sinking feeling hits his stomach again.

“Mm? No, they’re… Managing one of the game tents,” Rolo gestures in some general direction, grabbing Suzaku before he can wander too close, “You can’t be seen here. Not by them.”

Right… Well, there had to be something they could do other than eat. Not that the food was bad (as bad as it was for their stomachs), but an Ashford University fair wasn’t complete without a nightmarish free-for-all of a game. Maybe Milly had finally toned it down some? He smiles at the thought, glancing away and—

Rolo knows what he’s spotted before his mouth opens.

Damn you, Shirley.

“Oh! Over here,” not that Suzaku is waiting for Rolo to follow after him, “That’s cute, they even have stuffed mascots.”

The stand is simultaneously identical to those around it, and yet very different. The colors are a typical mint green and pastel pink (how they afforded to color coordinate an entire festival is beyond Rolo. He assumes the alumni must be beyond loaded), a few streamers hanging down over the “counter” that was placed in front of a board of similarly colored balloons.

He knows where this is going. It doesn’t need to go there.

Right when he gets ready to activate his Geass, one of the Student Activities Council members throws their arm around his shoulder and disrupts the whole process. “Rolo! You actually made it for once, that’s—guys this is a miracle, look at him,” they pull away, doing some overly dramatic gesture that for some stupid reason requires them to do what Rolo can only describe as an upside-down dab.

“Oh! And who’s hiding behind those glasses, huh?” Mia asks, running fingers through lavender hair before turning her sly squint to Rolo, “boyfriend?”

God. He can’t believe Suzaku is laughing at this. He also can’t believe his face hasn’t somehow turned inside out with the sheer amount of concentrated sourpuss contained within. He’s only rescued by the third tent attendant – this one he doesn’t recognize from any particular club – “If it Is, let’s not terrorize him too badly. That’s just mean.”

“Y… Yes. How—how well have you been doing?”

“Aw, come on. You don’t ask about the bottom line during the festival, council-boy,” Mia sets her hands on her hips in a mock-haughty fashion, “But! If you really gotta know, it’s been slow.”

“Nobody here has enough hand-to-eye coordination to win one of the big prizes. But hey! Free stuffed animals for us,” the SAC member makes pistol fingers, just as Suzaku opens his mouth despite Rolo’s efforts to will him not to.

“That bad? I think I might be able to take a few off your hands,” Anya or Gino might like one, at least. The mascot of the university was… strange – some sort of lion-mermaid that didn’t have any official name as much as the entire student body called it “The Cryptid.” Supposedly, it was from Milly’s coat of arms, but it was just as likely she’d picked the first unsettling mythological creature she’d saw on Google.

He missed it here.

It’s a dart game, and once the two men are situated side by side to compete (with the trio of tent runners watching in eager anticipation) Suzaku tries to make small talk.

“Could you clean this place out?”

“Absolutely. It’s… It’s not hard,” Rolo glances at the other students, torn between which persona he’s supposed to be using. A loud pop takes him out of his thoughts, and with a grimace he reluctantly joins in the turn-taking, “You only have to aim, inhale—exhale, throw.”

“Oof, remind me not to cross him,” and Suzaku smiles at the spectating words as much as he frowns on the inside. Every time he began to believe he was just a guest on the campus, that they were all just regular students, he remembers reality. They’re all stuck in a dream-like haze where their memories have been permanently altered, and his hand falls from its ready position.

Even he wasn’t free from the vice-grip of Geass, deep down. Try as he might to resist it. Try as Euphie might—

By the time he’s left autopilot, Rolo is holding a stuffed creature only a mother could love and regarding him with what isn’t quite contempt – but what definitely isn’t fondness. “You missed the last three.”

“I did? How—” he could take a running leap at someone and kick them head on, but he couldn’t throw darts without concentrating?

“Don’t worry about it! You still get… goodies!” Mia’s enthusiastic voice cuts in, presenting Suzaku with a hand-woven bracelet adorned with an Ashford University crest charm, “not as good goodies, but, you get goodies.”

The skin on his palm crawls while he looks down at the small accessory placed into his hand. He needed to get rid of this before—

“Ah, Mia, he’s,” Rolo huffs, “don’t tease him too badly. He’s my guest, after all. But—oh, Milly needed me for something, I just remembered. I’m, I’m really sorry, you guys,” He looks so sad at having to leave for his made-up appointment while gently ushering Suzaku away.

Once they’re out of sight and earshot, Suzaku asks to exchange gifts. By now, he’s decided that Gino would definitely prefer the stuffed animal over Anya. It’s what he focuses on to keep his thoughts straight. Rolo seems indifferent to the exchange.

At least until Suzaku gently ties the bracelet around his wrist with a beaming smile and a thank-you.

“So they… Really don’t notice any difference…?” Suzaku asks hesitantly, patting the stuffed mascot situated on the bench between the two of them on the head. To have replaced someone to one person is simple, but to replace someone to an entire campus? That was harrowing, and it made his blood run cold to think the power of Geass was immense enough to drown the memory of so many individuals.

(Not that he could be so surprised. Euphemia had committed unspeakable horrors against that same power.)

The gazebo is quiet, and most of the students have headed back to the dormitories or campus apartments for the evening. The grove here was oak and maple, the architecture a redux of the Britannian capital. For a moment, Suzaku is so displaced with the chilled feeling he almost believes he’s back at the gardens in Pendragon, and Rolo’s quiet voice pushes him out of his stupor and puts his mind solidly back into his body.

Rolo doesn’t think Suzaku wants the answer, worrying his index and thumb nails together.

“No, they don’t. If I don’t act out of character for their perception of Nunnally, they don’t notice. There are no emotions to trigger for most of them. Lelouch…” he pauses, reading Suzaku’s expression before he continues, “… You saw what happened with Julius Kingsley. No Geass is infallible. If I were to act too uncanny, then Lelouch’s subconscious would rebel,”

“He would remember Nunnally. Would he remember everything else?”

Ripping away Lelouch’s sister, relocating her to the relatively safe hand of the emperor… that was removing Lelouch’s motivation to become Zero. But wouldn’t that be enough? He has to wonder where the desire to be Zero ended, and where it began. If it was all for Nunnally, then wouldn’t it repeat with Rolo?

But then, he supposes Rolo Lamperouge doesn’t want distant dreams like peace or harmony for that reason. He wonders if Rolo Haliburton would either.

“Mm. The Geass would come undone entirely,” Rolo says simply, continuing to pick at his nails.

They sit in a more comfortable silence than the last, at least until Suzaku offers Rolo his coat against the encroaching night air. Spring here wasn’t terribly warm, and the nights were worth putting at least a light coat on. The breeze had cooled considerably during sunset, and Suzaku tells himself he’s being polite against further uncomfortable recollections of his last serendipitous encounter with someone.

“…How old are you?”

God, why did he say that?

Suzaku sputters for a few seconds, trying to repair what he perceives as damage (and what Rolo perceives as nothing) as he fixes his blazer, “I mean, you don’t look older than Nunnally and she was a year ahead because of her test scores. So, a Freshman in college when she was just a senior in high school-“

“I didn’t go to school.”

“Ah… I, I’m sorry--? No. I am sorry,” he reaffirms, expression steeling to better fit the symbol he was to the populace. The Empire used everything, and it spared nothing and no one, and… He knew that. He knew that when he had to put Lelouch on his knees before the emperor – twice – but he’d never really encountered what happened when the hand of Britannia (the hand of Geass) was all someone knew.

But he knows it’s wasted, and Rolo doesn’t care anyways. He doesn’t know why he continues, then. It’s desperation, something that might want validation or miserable company. The same parts of him that chastise his every past action and failure, and the same parts that drive him to crave revenge as much as he is disgusted with his being for wanting it so badly.

It’s an admission, one he hasn’t heard himself say for a year.

“I… wanted to change that. When I became a knight – when I joined the military. To change the way things are, and the way they would be,” he folds his hands together, resting his elbows on his knees and denying Rolo any glimpse of his face to make out his intentions, “I don’t think it takes extremes to make the world better. I think benevolence is stronger than Zero – than Lelouch – thinks.”

He swore Rolo had used his Geass to escape, the silence after his confession was so thunderous and overwhelming. He’s ashamed that he’d vilify himself out loud like it would change anything he’d done. Why now, of all times, was he so overcome?

His hands rake through his hair, cradling his head from his bent over position.

“I didn’t want to do it just for one person, not like Lelouch, but when I finally met someone I could change it for, to change it with, I—”

A light hand on his shoulder stops him, and his frazzled state has him afraid to look up at Rolo because he knows there’s tears and he knows it’s all about Euphie, the massacre, the betrayal, everything.

But he does. He turns his green-eyed gaze to Rolo’s cold silence. He flinches as the hand leaves his shoulder, only for fingertips to lightly graze the firm line of his jaw, a thumb to gently stroke over the hollow in his cheek. Instinct tells him to lean into the touch (that’s what he’d do with Euphie, and this is wrong) but he refrains out of shock.

Rolo knew something about proximity and lulling people into a false sense of security – it wouldn’t be a violation of the mission to prevent his superior from having some sort of neurotic, trauma-induced come apart. That wouldn’t do, especially not on the campus. It would jeopardize everything, and Rolo has never failed a mission.

Suzaku can’t do anything except wait with his heart in this throat. He’d admitted to the Emperor what his motivations were, what drove him. An accusation of treason didn’t scare him.

It was the idea of being rejected on a base, empathetic level. His left hand shakily wraps around Rolo’s wrist, now trapping them both in a moment that seemed to stretch indefinitely.

Rolo doesn’t know what Suzaku wants to hear, not exactly. He could make a damn good guess, but what someone’s heart truly desired was lost on him. He doesn’t know the nuances of empathy, or consideration. They were all ripped from him while he was young.

“…I’m sorry.”

To Lelouch. To Euphemia. To Nunnally, it’s for them, Rolo thinks, and he looses his hand just enough from the grip to brush away the one tear that had escaped. His mind is still sifting through words, trying to puzzle together the right things to say—

“I’m so, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want… None of this was supposed to be this way,” a pressure on Rolo’s lower back ushers him forward, and he remains still (gentle, demure, calm) as Suzaku’s forehead presses against his abdomen, as his arms wrap around his waist, “I wish she could be here. I wish I could have shown her—”

He considers using his Geass to buy himself time, to escape before this leaps from a recollection to a living memory, but…

“I can’t change anything. I couldn’t change anything,” the growing dampness in the fabric of his blazer tells him Suzaku has given up on damming his feelings, and hesitantly Rolo slips his hands around Suzaku’s shoulders, “We should all be here, together, not… Not like this…”

Rolo doesn’t count the seconds of his moment, as he’s prone to do for his Geass.

He hopes he won’t regret it later.

“Stop sneaking onto campus, Kururugi,” this time, Suzaku is expecting the sudden appearance, and he tilts his chin up with an unbegrudged smile. He pushes his glasses further up his nose, leaning back against the wall of Waterford Hall while students filed by with buzzing excitement to the “dead day” festival – because clearly what students needed on their day off to study for finals was something to distract them from studying for finals. “You’re making this difficult.”

“I was feeling nostalgic. Besides, I had to talk to the dean of admissions,” for once, he’s got the one-up on Rolo… although now that he’s focusing on him in proper, he can tell the younger man is hiding something behind his back.

“You’re coming back?”

“It seemed like… It was something I needed to do. It’s—” He inhales deeply, and briefly, concern flutters across Rolo’s face, “what Euphie would have wanted. And it’s the least I can do for her, right?”

Rolo knows Suzaku doesn’t need his agreeance on this, but he nods his head.

“… A-anyways, before this gets… so did you have something to report? I can meet you later-- or were you just trying to sneak up on me again?” He tries to peer behind Rolo, get a glimpse at whatever he’s playing keep away with, and—

He’s gone.

No, this was not okay – he whirls on heel to his right, where Rolo has somehow (Geass, he internally grumbles) materialized beside him with a skewer in one of his hands, laden with strawberries and a thickly crystallized sugar coating.

“I asked Milly to search around for other street food vendors, and one of them happened to be something I recognized from older missions,” Suzaku plucks the bamboo skewer delicately away, raising an eyebrow, “the Directorate is a secret, obviously,” he situates himself against the wall beside Suzaku, prying off a sugary strawberry and popping it into his mouth, “but I spent a lot of time in Northern China.”

Suzaku has to wonder if that’s Rolo’s way of opening up to him, after… after their last encounter. He twists the skewer, “I see… It’s not poisoned?”

“No,” Rolo gives him a sideways glance, mumbling around the fruit in his mouth before he swallows, “I have nothing to gain, anyways,”

Now, a grin crosses his features, “Any advice?” at least there was something light hearted he could recall from… the last time he’d stopped by here unbidden, and the grin is dissolved by laughter at the response he receives,

“You just put it in your mouth.”

He admonishes Rolo for not warning him that the sugar would break in a fashion that was very likely to cut his mouth.

[tweevilz-a]

I WAS GONNA ANSWER 42 CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT QUESTIONS EXCEPT I GOT SUPER LAZY AND GAVE UP AT 10.

This is actually from a meme that can be found here. This is with answers for KIRSTEE, for Kaycee gimme a day or two I don’t have energy and really just don’t feel like doing it. 

1. How do they move and carry themselves? Pace, rhythm, gestures, energy?

She moves fast in casual movement, though she finds it easy to slow down if need be. Even her sneaking is fast-paced and swift, full of energy and somehow grace. She’s used her goals of being a cheerleader and her skill from being a roller skater to become pretty flexible and good with controlling her center of gravity. She gestures a lot, though a lot of the time it’s small and hardly noticeable things. She plays with her hair a lot when it’s down, occasionally reaching up to make sure her bun is secure when it’s up.

2. How much physical space do they use, active and at rest?

She takes up a lot of space in an attempt to get attention. Her parents never had the time to give her the attention she craved, so she seeks it from everyone else. The only issue there being that most people don’t tend to find her likable, so her space-taking tendencies tend to make her come off as arrogant.

3. How do they position themselves in a group? Do they like to be the center of attention, or do they hang back at the edges of a crowd?

She loves to be the center of attention, but if she can tell that a group doesn’t like her she’ll hesitantly hang back. If someone gives her even the slightest bit of approval or attention she’ll move her way into the center and try to gain attention again.

4. What is their size and build? How does it influence how they use their body, if it does?

She’s pretty small, both in height and build. She uses her size to her advantage, getting into small spaces to spy on the Bratz. It also means she’s pretty lightweight, which has led her to be pretty good at balancing and climbing things.

5. How do they dress? What styles, colors, accessories, and other possessions do they favor? Why?

While in the animated series she’s constantly in that one damn pink dress, my Kirstee isn’t quite that bad. She wears mostly pink though it’s often mixed with white or black. Reds and blues pop up too, but they’re less common. Velvet is a favorite, as is silk, but she doesn’t care that much about material. She refuses to wear leggings and faux denim. Instead she’ll go for tights - often fishnet - and actual denim, though mostly only shorts rather than jeans and never denim skirts. The pink crown around her bun is often warn, in reality being a tiara made of (realistic but not real) pink crystals on a (real) silver base. She wears this only when her hair is up, never when her hair is down. Heels are always worn to hide her height in social situations, and I mean always. She even wears heels to work out, as shown in the Bratz series.

6. What are they like in motion–in different environments, and in different activities? What causes the differences between these?

If she doesn’t know the environment her movements are slower and more cautious, especially if it reminds her of a place she’s been before that turned out to be bad. In familiar environments she moves with confidence, effort put into appearing graceful while still moving fast. In sports she gives it her all, as much speed and brute force as possible from such a tiny girl, activities that require patience and precision are more her forte though.

7. How do they physically engage with other people, inanimate objects, and their environment? 

She tends not to be overly physical with other people. In a relationship she is, with Kaycee she is, but with general friendships and acquaintances she tends not to be all that touchy. She does have many violent physical engagements with people, violence being her go-to answer. She tends to be gentle with inanimate objects until she finds out how strong said-object is, if it can handle being thrown around it will be. She’s pretty average with the environment, taking things at face value and - much like with inanimate objects - if it looks like it can handle rough touch then that’s most likely what it’ll get.

8. Where and when do they seem most and least at ease? Why? How can you tell?

She’s surprisingly at ease when reading and writing, though she doesn’t let people see her do either all that much. She gets caught up in the way a book or a story can take you to another world and lets herself stick around that world for a while. That being said, if she has school work that’s close to being late or pretty much anything to do for Burdine it makes her pretty stressed and that stress manifests itself as aggression and irritability.

9. How do they manifest energy, exhaustion, tension, or other strong emotions?

Any strong emotion is usually repressed, or she at least attempts to repress them. Positive emotion will lead her to be kinder and gentle, whereas anything negative will come out in aggression. Exhaustion makes her angry, and if she gets angry enough she’ll use the tiny bit of energy she has in an angry outburst.

10. What energizes and drains them most?

She gets very drained by her sister, doing a lot of work to keep Kaycee up to date in school and in work while also trying not to be angry at her too much (often failing). Energy is often gained through social situations and anything that raises her adrenaline.

[loveshotproductions]

CampCamp Dimensions AU

***Forgot to post this on Tumblr, so here you go***

FINALLY I got this mess down on paper Hope you like it, and it's readable!! WARNING: Suggestive Content(ex. mental illness, self-harm, abuse) Setting/Premise: This AU's premise of this is centered around multiple universes, including the main canon universe. In terms of universes, labeled under CC-036, this world, in particular, is a bit more "flexible"; because it functions solely on Cartoon Physics. This means no one can truly "die"; in fact, death has their very own set of rules and mechanics. the Respawn Mechanic: The "Respawn" Mechanic is a large set of conditions to ensure the safety of the people. Like the name states, if a person manages to die, or in the condition of death. When the old body gives in, a new copy will take their place. This new copy has all old memories prior to the accident leading, literally able to learn from their mistakes. The only way a person can actually die is if the person's heart is damaged beyond repair. If that happens, they are able to die normally. There have been instances of people surviving will semi-damaged hearts, but they usually do not live as long.   Character Bios: The Main Three:    Max: Max is widely known for a multitude of reasons: aside from horrendous cat allergies. He's one of the few people in the Camp that is aware of the Alternate Universes that exist. This is the reason he is often viewed as on edge and paranoid, having a strong fear of dying. To add insult to injury, he's is schizophrenic and will hear and see nightmarish versions of his friends. Despite everything, he tries to keep somewhat of an optimistic attitude, though he's still smug and sarcastic whenever he wants to be. He is Neil's Nurse assistant and has a knack for making cat plushies          Neil: Neil, on the surface, seems like an okay kid, but he is practically the least sane of the bunch. As the Unofficial Official Camp Doctor(after accidentally killing the previous one), he's widely known for going a bit overboard on "Surgeries" which often excuse to brutally mutilate fellow campers and David.(But mostly David:l). Because of these sudden outbursts, Max is often the only one that helps him not go too far, who he often see as a little brother. Aside from his job, he's often viewed as tired, mature, sarcastic as hell, prideful of his work, but can be delusional at times. He's the oldest of the Main Three and feels the need to take care of Max and Nikki as surrogate siblings.    Nikki: Nikki is still the same extroverted self, but still, has a lot of drawbacks. Born with Chromesthesia, Nikki can not only perceive sound as color but people as well. This color perception has let some of it surrounds her in a color wildfire, but it can only perceive herself as monochrome. But, she is able to find solace in communicating with the wildlife that surrounds her. Having a rocky past with the Flower Scouts, she's often viewed as an outsider and, to put it bluntly, a freak of nature. Despite this, she is widely accepted among the other campers and especially the Main Three. Counselors:    David: David is a series of bad habits and regrets. He's been trapped in an abusive relationship with Campbell since he was a kid, has huge emotional problems, and has the unnerving feeling of being watched. Due to the years of torment, spurred by a rough household, he also has the tendency to cut himself to calm his nerves. David, of course, keeps this all locked away in a long list of repressed memories. With the only person knowing this is Gwen.    Gwen: Gwen is the last person you expect to be a camp counselor. Actually, the only reason that she is one is to get more credits on her resume for community college. She usually doesn't care about the young campers, leaving them to do what they want, but tries to in spite of everything. The only reason she hasn't decided to bail out is to make sure no one dies, especially David. Being the only person who knows of his abusive relationship, and tends to his wounds after a session, and constantly tries to make David stand up for himself. In a way, Gwen is the driving force of the camp staying afloat.   Other Campers:    Preston: Preston is not the nicest person in camp. He more known for being a recluse, and bitter towards anyone and anything. He has an exceptional talent for making costumes and the traditional voodoo doll. He's more widely known for having a small grudge on Max, for ruining an old play of his. He has created a doll of virtually every camper and believes that they're for their protection. Harrison also takes advantage of Preston, not really, as a "henchmen" for his ideas. Usually ending in failure. He proclaims to be the sanest in a world full of morons, though Preston has little to no sympathy towards anyone.      Harrison: While normal looking on the surface, Harrison hides something darker. Due to a freak encounter with an artifact at a museum, Harrison is actually a human fused with a trickster coyote demon. He tries to hide this by constantly claiming that he's normal, and goes into panic attacks trying to defend himself. Even though half the camp already knows, aside from Nerris and Space Kid. He's roommates with Preston and uses him as a ploy to explain his "conditions": suddenly spawning coyote ears and tail, eyes glowing red crosses, and speaking in Sumerian when angered. You know normal people stuff, Right?!        Dolph: Dolph prides himself in his art skills, sometimes. When he's not constantly drawing to improve, or throwing away a current painting he was working on, Dolph is, well, a mess really. He often puts a lot on his plate and stresses himself to exhaustion. He is a pure perfectionist, and anything that's not up to his standards immediately, Dolph basically shuns in disgust. In addition, he takes the position of a professional organizer, mainly to disguise his OCD.            Nurf: Nurf is more of a mixed bag of other characters and personalities than a kid. Diagnosed with Multiple Personality Disorder, Nurf isn't exactly the same person more than once. He's mainly seen around Dolph, acting as a Leo Bloom to Dolph's Bialystock.    Ered: Ered may look tough on the surface, but on the inside acts as a mother to the other campers. Being the oldest of the campers, she takes responsibility towards everyone. However, you almost never see her without a cigarette in hand. Ered is widely known through the camp as a constant smoker and is somewhat rude towards given sass. This is especially true with Max, as the two constantly fight with one another. Despite it, She deeply cares for the others and even carries around a first-aid kit around just in case.      Nerris: Nerris is questionable when it comes to facts. Having some knowledge for the extended universes, Nerris is a person of wide knowledge. But not all of her facts are true, they range from slightly true to completely false.      Space Kid: The youngest of the campers, Space Kid is the most innocent, and the most killed offed. He shares a bond with Nerris and often believes everything they hear. There are no threatening monsters in this AU, the only "monsters" in this world are Ghosts/Spirits. Ghost are people who died violently in obscure conditions; People are still unsure how this happens, and research is still conducted.    Jasper: Little to no one knows what exactly happened to him to result in this fate, but he watches over a certain person, feeling a need to protect him; despite playing a role in his death Outsiders: Flower Scouts: While innocent on the surface, each member of this camp is actually a part of an elitist cult. Cult activities murdering animals as the sacrifice, and demonic communications.    Erin: Second in command; loner at most, and a tsundere at best; fond of watching the world burn from a distance    Sasha: Main leader; psychotic; determined to continue the legacy; Wishes to rule the world    Tabii: Romantic of the group; 100% yandere for Neil, Will meet with a terrible fate Woodscouts: They are technically the same as their counterparts, except less aware of Max's illness Alternate Dimensions(as of now): "Caterland"/CC-603 A sadistic alternate world compromise of individuals having cat ears and characteristics.The citizens in this world enjoy elaborate parties and murdering one another for fun.  "Dollhouse" CC-025 A strange alternate dimension in which all of the campers are living dolls, created by David as a commission for small plays and shows. The adults(I.E. David, Gwen, Campbell, etc.) are all human. Another lesser known dimension. "Prime" CC/001 The main canon universe