#i feel like if the public saw her it be a morale boost

[mollysunder]

Mel as the Faceless One is fitting but also super ironic because we all know Fortiche and Riot all worked really hard to give Mel a unique and beautiful design. They won an Annie Award for Mel's character design, and the Arcane season 1 DVD even has a bonus feature detailing her conception ("Making Mel") because it they worked that hard on her.

They put so much effort into making Mel instantly memorable all for her to get a job where the ironclad rule is that she's never ever seen by the public when she's performing her duties. It's like that Alanis Morrissette song.

[rose-of-oz]

NEW THEME NEW THEME

also new opla oc?? SPILL -🍂

NEW THEME YES!! I've probably been due for one for a while, honestly, but when I saw Rachel Zegler as Lucy Grey Baird I was just like, yes (😅). Anyway, I'm glad you like it!!

And yes, I would be more than happy to tell you about my new babe! Here goes:

So, for starters, her name is Hayashi Lark and she's a Sanji ship, because I do love that gruff kickass cook. A lark, if you didn't know, is a bird that's pretty well-known for its beautiful song, but also for the fact that they don't sing while in captivity. As you may imagine, there is some symbolism going on with the name here.

Lark has been a singer employed by the World Government since she was very young - her parents were both governors of a relatively large village, and when their daughter began to show serious talent with singing from a very young age, they immediately put her in vocal lessons and lessons for various different instruments, and, when they deemed her trained enough, began to trot her out to sing at public events and at get-togethers with other Government officials. When Lark was nine, her parents both died from a bad fever that had ravaged the whole village, and since she had no other family to take her in, she was given over to the care of the World Government, and several officials remembered her performing at Government dinners and were like, "You know what? Let's turn this little nine-year-old girl into a showpony!".

And so it goes - from the age of nine, Lark is shoved into pretty dresses and shipped all across the several oceans, performing at Marine bases to boost morale. Most of the songs she sings are boring and mainly focused on how brave and just all Marines are, propaganda songs written by the Government itself, but she also writes her own songs, though most of them are much too focused on freedom and rebellion for her to be allowed to sing them onstage. She's also fascinated with pirate songs and sea shanties, the kind Marines would never be allowed to sing; whenever she can escape her handlers, she'll go looking for any place in a given village she thinks might have information on them and writes down whatever lyrics and notes she can find, saving them in a beat-up notebook that she takes with her everywhere. She wants nothing more than to escape the life of borderline captivity that she's been living and learn to play and sing as many pirate songs as she can, and maybe even write some of her own, but for a very long time that feels impossible.

And this, as you may have suspected, is where Luffy and company come in. In between Syrup Village and Baratie, they dock at the village Lark is currently performing in to pick up some extra supplies and stop to see her show in the town square. They're all really taken with her voice and presence onstage, but Luffy, being Luffy, can tell that she doesn't actually want to be doing any of this, and approaches her to offer her a place on the crew, or at least to help her get away from the Government and take her someplace else. Lark immediately accepts the place on the Straw Hats - after all, what better way to learn more pirate songs that to be on an actual pirate crew? - and with some moderate difficulty, they manage to collect the few belongings Lark wants to take with her, including her notebook and guitar, and escape on the Straw Hats' ship.

Now, when they get to Baratie and Luffy winds up being taken as a chore boy, Lark offers to pay off their dinner debt by doing a show at the restaurant. Zeff doesn't want a singer in his place, but agrees to let Lark sing one song in exchange for a month off of Luffy's sentence. Lark sings one of the only pirate songs she knows in full, actually managing to quiet the whole restaurant full of rowdy pirates with her voice, and Sanji takes one look at her while she's singing and goes, Oh, I'm in love. And though finding the All Blue is still Sanji's dream and main motivation, he will admit that some part of the reason he left Baratie with the crew was wanting to get to know Lark better.

Aaaand that's about all I have for her so far!! It might be a bit before I have a proper intro post for her, but if anyone wants to ask me more questions in the meantime, feel free!!

(Tagging the other OPLA girlies @starcrossedjedis and @auxiliarydetective!!)

[sugarybitterness]

oooh I got an idea! what about the avengers visits a children hospital and the reader is a doctor then her and Natasha gets to know each other and even started hanging out. One night, Natasha gets seriously injured and visits the reader's home and the reader starts to say a speech on how she doesn't wanna lose Natasha because of her recklessness because she likes them in that way, and it all ends with a happy ending with Natasha saying she likes the reader too. Hope that makes sense

this was meant to be a blurb but it’s like 1.8k words long wtf- also i’m so so so sorry for how long this took

warnings; injuries & medical procedures

400 blurb celebration ✨

doing promotional stints was nothing new for the avengers, tony knew that it was important to keep a good image up for the public so it was common for small groups of the avengers to be sent for events or galas. the whole system only solidified after tony had put in a place a system, allowing the groups to rotate and not have to do too many events.

but tony had called in the whole team this time and it was for a pretty damn good reason. turns out a children’s hospital had reached out to ask the team of heroes to come in to visit the kids, to help boost the morale of the little ones there. the minute tony mentioned ‘children’s hospital’ the team agreed immediately.

this was more than just a publicity thing and the team knew that. so, together, they brainstormed ideas on what they could do on their visit. wanda and vision decided on a magic act, steve and peter were going to do some tricks while tony decided to contact the hospital to see if there were any funds they needed. everyone was excited to visit the kids, but a certain redhead had some hidden worries.

entering the hospital, the team was met with excited chatters. many of the kids who were able to move on their own were already waiting by the entrance. soon enough the teams set off to their plans for the kids and natasha found herself being led to a room.

“dr y/l/n? miss romanoff is here.” the nurse smiled at natasha before gesturing her to enter the room. the redhead smiled back and walked in, eyes widening when she saw you sitting on a chair, a little basket of books next to you. you smiled warmly at the avenger before turning back to address the kids.

“alright everyone, this is our special guest- one of our very own avengers, the black widow herself!” you spoke excitedly, smile growing when the kids in the beds cheered softly, those who were too tired to make any noise opting to beam at you and the redhead. you turn to look at natasha expectantly, who quickly collected herself before doing her own introduction.

the two of you spent the whole day going to the kids who were kept in bed, reading storybooks for them. you were glad you went with your gut feeling, asking the nurse to see if she could get natasha to be your partner for the day.

“you have a very soothing voice, ms romanoff.” you complimented the redhead during lunch.

“you can just call me natasha,” the redhead replied with a soft smile. “and i could say the same for you dr y/l/n.”

“well that’s y/n to you.” you smiled back and the redhead internally cheered at finally being able to get your name.

“are you sure this okay by the way..? don’t you have any patients?” natasha asked.

“it’s my off day today,” you explained, taking a bite out of your sandwich. “i try to come by when i can to read to the kids, especially those you met today. most of them are too weak to move, hence why i move around to read to them.”

natasha couldn’t help but a feel a rush of admiration at your words. surely being a doctor couldn’t be easy on anyone, rest days would be hard to come by and yet here you are, right back at the hospitals to spend time with the kids.

the rest of the conversation flowed easily, the two of you resuming your story telling adventures after lunch. at the end of the day, the two of you exchanged numbers with hopeful promises of meeting again.

it started off as platonic, but you quickly realised you were constantly looking forward to chatting with the redhead and meeting her. due to both your busy schedules, you treasured any short time you might be able to snag with each other. natasha had went on a undercover, no contact mission a couple days back. it was weird not waking up to her daily texts, many times you caught yourself typing out a text to her in regards to something that happened only to remember she wouldn’t reply. you ended up copying and pasting all those messages into a note, content to wait until she was back so you could tell them to her then.

natasha never gave you a timeline for any of her missions, most times she just texted you once she was done or she would appear at your doorstep. so when you heard knocking at the door at 3am in the morning, despite the knife you held in your hand, you had a hopeful feeling it was the redhead.

what you didn’t expect was to see her bruised and battered, her hand clutching onto her bleeding side and a small, apologetic smile on her face.

“holy shit nat.” you gasped, taking in her injuries. you quickly stepped aside and let her in before scurrying to the kitchen to keep the knife and grab your first aid kit as well as a bucket of warm water and some towels.

you rushed back to the living room where natasha stood awakwardly, not wanting to risk getting any stained with blood. you were quick to guide her to the couch, shushing any protests.

grabbing a towel and soaking it, you lifted her shirt and gently wiped the blood off. you noted how the redhead barely flinched, as if she was accustomed to this kind of pain.

when you inspected the wound, a frown formed when you realised you had to stitch it up. you turned to the table where you had laid out the equipment and grabbed the things you’d need.

“okay so you need stitches, i’m going to inject the medicine that will numb it. you’re going to feel a light pinch right about.. now.” you spoke gently as you injected the needle. the redhead had her eyes closed, but again, showed little to no reaction to the injection.

“nat? are you feeling alright? do you have a head injury i should know about?” you asked worriedly as you prepared the needle and thread. while she might have a higher pain threshold than most, you didn’t want to take any risks.

“i’m good, don’t worry.” natasha replied, forcing her eyes open to look at you before giving you a soft smile. sighing softly in relief, you set to work on stitching the wound up. you allowed the silence to blanket over the two of you before you realised something.

“don’t the avengers have their own med team at the compound?” you turn to look at natasha with a raised brow, hands stilling their movements. natasha once soft smile turned slightly sheepish.

“nat?” you probed, gaze returning down to continue your stitches. a beat of silence passed before the redhead finally answered.

“i wanted to come see you.” natasha confessed quietly. your hands paused momentarily again, eyes shooting up to look at the redhead incredulously.

“natasha!” you scolded gently before you looked back down to finish up the stitches as you continued to berate the avenger. “you can always come and find me after you go get your injuries looked at! what if the injuries were more serious than a stab wound? what if it was a gunshot wound and the bullet was still inside? i don’t have the medical equipment to help you with that!”

“i’m sorry..” natasha replied, her lips curling into a small pout. you looked up once you finished tying up the stitches and narrowed your eyes at her.

“no, don’t you dare give me that cute pout of yours romanoff. you’re lucky that i could patch you up with what i have here, but that doesn’t mean you should be coming straight to me after a mission if you’re injured. what if i couldn’t help you? i can’t lose you-” you cut yourself off when you registered the words you just said. shit, you definitely weren’t suppsoed to say that. natasha’s eyes widened when she realised the implication behind your words. the two of you stared at each other for a while before natasha’s lips curled into a small smile.

“oh? the great dr y/l/n can’t live without little old me?” natasha teased, laughing softly at the small blush that dusted across your cheeks. “i wonder what makes me so special?”

ducking your head shyly, you turn to put down your stuff before grabbing a medicinal cream. rotating back to the redhead lying on your couch, you start applying the cream.

“you want to know what makes you special?” you start quietly, gaze focused on the stitched up wound in front of you, not wanting to meet natasha’s gaze.

“it’s that to everyone else, you’re this big, untouchable superhero. people who know better are scared of you.. but i see how the kids look up to you, especially the little girls who see you on the tv and hope to be like you one day when they grow up. i see the softer side of you too, since the day we met at the hospital. i could tell you were nervous but you still did your best with the kids, you weren’t just the black widow but you were you. and i just.. i feel so privileged to have been able to get to know you as natasha romanoff, as nat. the nat that always tries new things with me, who brings me lunches and then goes to read to the kids in the wards. the nat that sends me home and then invites herself in for wine and a movie.” you continue listing off the little things you’ve picked up about natasha in the last few months you spent together, completely oblivious to natasha’s teary eyes.

“i can’t lose you because i still feel like there’s so much things about you i want to know, so much things i want to experience with you. and even if i knew all there is to know about you i still don’t ever want to lose you.” you finish off. your hands now clasped tightly in your lap, heart thundering while you waited for natasha to say something, anything.

“are you saying what i think you’re saying..?” natasha’s hesitant voice filled the silence, her hand reaching out to gently tilt your head to look at her. your eyes widened slightly when you saw the tears, your own hands reaching to cup her cheek as you shuffled closer.

“i’m sorry for making you cry.” you frown slightly as you wipe the tears away. natasha let out a quiet chuckle.

“don’t avoid the question detka.” natasha moved her hand from your chin to gently boop your nose. her heart skipping when you scrunched it adorably.

“i like you, nat. if that long speech wasn’t clear enough.” you confess, your lips curling into a smile when the redhead holds your hand. the smile widening when she pulls your hand to press a soft kiss onto it.

“i like you too.”

[lizbotw]

hi! could u pls write how kuroo,bokuto,semi and oikawa would react to going to the beach with their gf and teammates and getting jealous when everyone’s staring at her in bikini?💖

Kuroo, Bokuto, Semi, and Oikawa When Their Teammates are Staring at Their S/O on the Beach

hey!!! i hope you enjoy these ♡ even though you said girlfriend, all of them ended up being gender neutral!

Kuroo Tetsurou

He's used to people admiring you from afar, and actually he takes pride in the fact that he managed to snag someone who's just all around perfect in his eyes, so he’s never outright confronted just anyone he sees looking at you (that is, as long as they don’t appear to want to harm you in any way because you’re still his precious baby, no matter what)—at most putting a protective arm around you and pulling you to his chest, or giving you a kiss while staring at the other person dead in the eye until they look away, a playful smirk on his lips.

Sort of a “they can look but can’t touch sort of deal”—although that's mainly because he knows the second anyone looks at you funny you're the one ready to tell them off, not him.

He's had to stop you his fair share of times from starting something in public because you thought someone was scrutinizing you too closely. However, even for all the times Kuroo knows you can look out for yourself, he can't help but turn up his protectiveness in certain situations.

A beach day to boost team morale (read as: an excuse to skip out on practice on yet another hot, sticky summer day)—that was the official description of the situation you now found yourself in.

After dealing with quite a few whines of "Babe, come on, it'll be fun," from Kuroo, you eventually caved, bidding farewell to your wonderfully air conditioned bedroom for the day.

As the team had arrived, Lev and Yaku went straight to work getting a volleyball game set up (beach volleyball? yes); Kenma found himself sitting on the towel he had spread under a beach umbrella, game in hand; and everyone else was focused on their own activities, getting everything ready for the day of fun.

That left you and Kuroo standing next to each other, surveying the work of the others.

You felt a tug on the end of your shirt and looked down at the hand that had grabbed the fabric, following the curve of the toned arm upwards with your eyes until your sight landed on Kuroo's grinning face. "Come on, you're not going to keep this on all day, are you?" He gave it another small tug for emphasis and then released it. "You know, overheating can cause your body to-"

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, Tets.” You already knew he was about to go off on one of his science tangents again—how he could still think about that sort of thing even in this heat was a miracle in and of itself.

Now that he had mentioned it, you realized you were hot. Acutely aware of the unconformable sticking off your clothing to your skin, you quickly moved to shed the extra layers, shimmying out of them and revealing the bathing suit you had worn underneath.

At the same time, Lev came over to ask Kuroo a question about setting up the volleyball net. "Hey, can you help with the poles? Yaku won't let me near them, but between you and me, I don't think he's strong enough to push them down into the sand himself. I swear that thing is about to blow over and-"

Of course at that moment you had been pulling your shirt over your head, leaving you in only your bathing suit. The sound of Lev talking had been muffled when the shirt passed over your ears so you weren't sure who it was at first, but now that you were free of the clingy clothing, you noticed him and gave him a small smile.

You were confused though because it seemed as soon as you were able to hear properly again, he had stop speaking—and that was because he had, sentence caught in his throat because he hadn't been expecting you to do that. He hadn't even noticed you standing next Kuroo at first so it was a bit of a shock to now be suddenly facing you like this.

You looked up at Kuroo, curious about why he wasn't saying anything either, and found him staring at Lev intently.

It seemed that Kuroo had decided the other boy's gaze had lingered a second too long, even though only a short moment had passed and Lev was more so giving you a surprised glance than a leering stare.

Kuroo crossed his arms. "Lev?"

“Yeah?” Lev seemed to straighten up at the mention of his name and quickly tore his eyes away from you to give Kuroo his full attention once again.

Watching the exchange, you could see Kuroo lips curl up into a smirk. "Remember what I said about you needing to do more receiving practice?"

Lev's expression fell instantly, eyes widening. "Wait-"

Kuroo glanced over Lev's shoulder towards where Yaku was still trying to set up the volleyball net and called out to him. "Yo, Yaku! I have something I need you to do."

Once Yaku dropped the poles he had been wrestling with into the sand and came jogging over to the three of you, you were pretty sure you saw Lev's spirit leave his body.

Bokuto Koutarou

King of getting-distracted-because-Kuroo-challenged-him-to-a-sand-wrestling-match-(whatever that means)-and-Akaashi-and Kenma-were-betting-on-them-(using seashells as currency because the rules of the real world don’t apply on the beach).

It was meant to be a Fukurodani beach day but somewhere along the way Nekoma had caught wind of the invitation and now here they were (everyone knew it was Bokuto who had revealed the plan to Kuroo but they were too scared to confront him, lest he get depressed at being called out and go running off somewhere on the beach, wanting to be alone—no one could handle organizing a search party for the giant expanse of the beach to look for him right now so they just let him be).

You were used to Bokuto’s overexcited nature though and couldn’t help but grin at seeing him run off with his friends, him giving you a kiss on your forehead (that was more so a peck with how fast it was) with a quick, “I’ll be back soon, babe!” before he was off.

Dating Bokuto meant you were well acquainted with his “best bro’s” team and you easily took up hanging out with a few of the Nekoma and Fukurodani members, Yukie and Kaori at your side.

At some point Yukie and Kaori seemed to have grown bored being on land and watching the boys splashing around in the water without them, so they asked if you’d like to join them for a dip in the ocean.

You agreed easily, wanting to cool off yourself off—the shade of the giant umbrella you were sitting under hadn't done much to fight off the heat that hung thick in the air, and laying down on the blanket you had spread was definitely less than comfortable than being able to lounge on your bed at home.

You followed Yukie’s and Kaori’s lead when they stood up to shrug off their cover-ups. You did the same, untying the thin wrap you had been wearing and leaving you only in your swimsuit.

The sight of Yukie, Kaori, and you walking together towards the water definitely had heads turning, but Bokuto, with his back to the action, barely noticed until Kuroo pointed it out to him.

Once the three of you got closer to the shoreline, some of the boys who had been splashing around before came out of the water to meet you halfway and you fell into conversation with them—that is, until you were suddenly shoved out of the way.

Stumbling a bit, you regained your footing after a moment and found yourself facing none other that Bokuto's back—he had pushed you behind him and now had his hands on his hips in a protective stance in a face-off against the guys you had been talking to.

He had a whole protective spiel he gave them while trying to be your knight in shining armor, but of course the other guys gave up pretty easily because, honestly, the goal here was to just keep Bokuto from falling into a depressive state (once again, beach rescue missions were not on the agenda for today). Bokuto seemed pretty satisfied with their response though and once he had gestured for them to go away because he was here to protect you now, you had to make sure to hide your smile behind your hand when he whirled around to face you. Instead, you provided him with his well deserved praise.

"Woo! The ace strikes again!" He did a fist pump and then grabbed your arm, taking off in a sprint.

"Wait, Bokuto-" You were struggling to keep up with him as he ran ahead and once you realized he was heading towards the ocean, you unsuccessfully tried to pry your arm from his grip.

"Swimming time!"

You two splashed into the water with one final tug from him and you stumbled on the shifty sand, softened by the water, shivering at the sudden feeling of the tide as it raised around your legs as you moved deeper. Yukie and Kaori had already gotten into the water on their own and now they snuck up on you and started splashing you with water.

The rest of the day was definition of fun, and Bokuto continuously switched between sticking to your and loudly going around proclaiming how much he loved you. It seems like the "incident" from before was a much needed confidence booster for him and the others let him have this victory for now because as a result he had also spontaneously volunteered to treat everyone out to ice cream once you all were winding down for the day—sun low in the sky as each person started to pack up—so really everyone was a winner here.

Semi Eita

It was Tendou's idea that the team should take a trip to the beach and Ushijima agreed, but only because he wanted to play beach volleyball. Ushijima’s approval obviously got Goshiki on board and one by one the rest of the team slowly gave in, and of course that meant you were coming too.

Everyone started setting up their own towels, umbrellas, and beach chairs, so Eita wasn't at your side for the first few minutes of the get-together aside from when he had greeted you earlier with a kiss to the forehead.

He was rummaging around in his bag for sunscreen when Shirabu came up to him.

"Hm?" Semi was confused to see the shadow that was cast over him while he was kneeling on his blanket and turned to see what it was that was blocking the sun, finding his teammate standing there. "Oh, what do you need?" Semi stood from his crouched position, crossing his arms as he listened to Shirabu speak.

While he was doing that, you had already finished laying out your things and stood up with a content sigh, hands on your hips as you looked proudly upon your work. Now all that was left was to actually go have some fun on the beach. First order of business was to kick off your casual clothes and tuck them away safely into your bag so sand didn't get on them.

By the time you had done that, only taking a few minutes, Semi was still talking with Shirabu and you bounced over to the two, slipping your hand into Semi's. "Ready to go?" you asked him, impatient with how long they were taking.

The sight of you instantly had him beaming and he squeezed your hand in reply. "Yeah, just a sec."

You playfully rolled your eyes and released his hand, telling him to catch up to you whenever he was done, and went over to talk with Goshiki while he set up Tendou's umbrella for him (no doubt the redhead had told him it would make him a better ace and who was Goshiki to question his upperclassmen).

Semi watched you go, his gaze lingering on you, before he crossed his arms again and turned back to finish off his conversation with Shirabu. However, he found the other boy still looking over at you. Semi felt his eyebrow twitch. "Earth to Shirabu, hellooo?" He hit him on the upside of his head and Shirabu went reeling back, rubbing at the sore spot.

"Hey! What was that for?"

Rather than say anything, Semi just tilted his head in your direction as an indication.

"What? Oh-" Shirabu followed Semi's gaze to you and shook his head in disbelief. "Don't tell me you thought I was..." His sentence trailed off in the middle because one look at Semi had confirmed that he had, in fact, thought that Shirabu was checking you out. "Oh, come on, Semi. Have a little bit more faith in me?"

Semi cocked an eyebrow. "Then what were you looking at?"

"Well, Goshiki seems to be really struggling with that umbrella, are you sure he's going to be okay?"

A look back at said first year confirmed that he was, in fact, struggling. Semi squinted, trying to make out the scene in front of him. "Wait, is that Tendou's extra large beach umbrella? Didn't I tell him not to bring that anymore?" You were trying to help Goshiki wrestle the umbrella into place—a difficult feat with the wind blowing and with the pure size of the umbrella.

As if to top everything off, a pair of seagulls could be spotted circling overhead and when one of them moved to dive towards Goshiki, Semi tensed up and then took off running towards you two, Shirabu in tow.

"Will someone, please just call Ushijima over already?"

Goshiki’s screams were already racketing through the air as he crouched low to the sand, hands thrown up around his head as the seagulls pecked at him. "Leave me alone! The tuna sandwich in my pocket is mine!"

Oikawa Tooru

As soon as you get to the beach, he’s showing you off and teasing the rest of the team about how he's dating someone so cute while most of the others can barley look at an attractive person without getting flustered (Kindaichi), but at the same time hiding you from their view because he doesn’t think they deserve to see you looking like that??? Getting mixed signals here, Tooru.

You manage to shake him off at some point and he’s pouting as you run away from him, just wanting to get some peace and quiet so you can eat ice cream and build sandcastles, until Iwaizumi steps in and drags Oikawa away.

“Don’t worry about him, I’ll take care of it,” Iwaizumi says over his shoulder, not even bothering to take his eyes off of the the direction he's heading in. You had sought refuge by hiding behind Makki and Mattsun when Oikawa was chasing you around, and now the three of you fell into a fit of laughter at Oikawa's expense at the sight of the scene in front of you.

It's still grinning that Mattsun invites you to spend the rest of the day with him and Makki instead, citing the fact that you deserve a much needed break form your clingy boyfriend. You agree and they decide as the first order of business that you three should build a sandcastle. A singular collective sandcastle eventually turns into a sandcastle competition with the three of you each building your own (somehow you manage to rope Kunimi into judging with the promise that you'll stop bothering him after that), which then turns into burying Makki under the sand.

You're putting the final touches on the sand mermaid tale you had given Makki (per his request of course), when Mattsun suggests you two go take a dip in the ocean and leave Makki for high tide.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea!" Makki is nodding his head along with you two until he remembers that he's buried under a mountain of sand and the meaning of the words sinks into his mind. "Wait-"

While Makki wallows in distress over that statement and you two ignore his futile struggles as he squirms under the sand and tries to get out (Mattsun had packed the sand tightly around him so you might as well give up while you're ahead Makki—there's no escape), you consider the proposition, eyeing the sand that's sticking to you all over your arms, hands, and legs from kneeling down and building with it.

It seems like a good idea because you've been playing in the sand the whole time, so this would be the perfect opportunity to wash all of that off. Also, what good is a little time at the beach without a dip in the ocean?

And with that in mind, you nod to Mattsun and bid Makki farewell, leaving him to his fate. Just as you're about to walk off and follow Mattsun, his long strides taking him ahead of you in only a matter of seconds, you remember that you still have your beach wrap on.

"Oh, Makki, here. Watch this for me, will you?" You undid the wrap and moved to drape it over a nearby rock so it wouldn't be left in the sand.

"Uh, sure."

You thought his tone sounded pretty weird and when you turned to him, you found that he wasn't looking at you, but rather at Mattsun, the two sharing a collective glance that definitely looked like they were planning something.

"I give it at least three minutes."

"Three? Two minutes tops."

You were about to open your mouth to ask them what in the world they were talking about when you were cut off by a high pitched yelp.

"(Y/N)!!!" You could recognize that whiny voice anywhere and the familiar arms that wrapped around you confirmed your suspicions. "I knew I shouldn't have left you alone, who knows what would have happened if I haven't come in time."

"Tooru- mfph- Tooru, let me go-," you attempted to get out, voice muffled and your face being squished into his chest.

"Woah, that wasn't even a minute."

"A new personal record."

You could hear Makki and Mattsun exchanging remarks of surprise at your boyfriend's quick appearance and you realized what this was about.

You groaned. "Tooru, I'm fine." You squirmed out of his grasp enough that you could peek your head out and craned your neck, spotting Kunimi laying on a towel under an umbrella with sunglasses on, having ran off to there after he had finished judging the sandcastle competition, and Iwaizumi next to him, reclining on a beach chair in the shade and snoozing away—so that's how Oikawa managed to escape.

It took a while to pry Oikawa off of you with how jealous he was being with others seeing you like that, but you managed to do it—Mattusn and Makki placed bets on how long they thought it would take (Makki ended up winning—as his prize, he forced Mattsun to dig him out of the sand because he was still scared of you guys leaving him for high tide).

Tooru was overall extra clingy for the rest of the day, which was saying a lot for him, and was especially so when Mattsun bought you ice cream later (in retaliation, Oikawa bought you two more, despite your protests that there was no way you could possibly finish all of them).

[dreamescapeswriting]

Witness ~ KTH [M] [Request]

WORD COUNT: 3.4K

GENRE: Smut, fluffy, first time together, cute

PAIRING: Kim Taehyung x Fem!Reader

WARNING: fluffy smut, no big warnings, oral - male receiving, multiple orgasms for the guy, protected sex

A/N: Spin off to ‘FAKE FIGHT’ I’m really bad at the whole small talk thing, so I hope this is okay for you my love!

"You think it's good to flirt with women who are taken!?" The statement caught your attention and you glanced around the bar. Jimin - one of your close friends - was now standing next to the tall blonde you'd been eyeing up for most of the night. The blonde looked as though he was about to burst into tears as someone yelled at him. The guy yelling you'd seen around before but you couldn't place where you knew his face from,

"Jungkook please-" A young girl, who you were assuming was Jungkook's girlfriend as she tried to reason with him. Touching his chest trying to soothe him but Jungkook seemed to get angrier as she touched him.

"No! This fucking good for nothing thinks he can flirt with you!" You saw the fear in the blonde's eyes as Jungkook yelled, you weren't going to sit here and listen to this. Jimin glanced at you when he saw you stand up in the corner of his eye so you made your way over to him. Standing behind the boy Jungkook was yelling at as you listened in to what was happening.

"Sorry Jungkook...H-He was just so hot-" The girl Jungkook was with wasn't helping the situation at all, in fact with that comment she seemed to make everything worse. Jimin's hand gripped onto the towel he was using to dry glasses with but you knew he wanted to throw the couple out of the bar only he couldn't. The placed was packed and it wasn't as if Jimin was the largest of guys so he couldn't kick them out himself.

"You are my girlfriend!" Jimin turned to you and so did the boy from in front of you, you were all wide-eyed as you watched the couple exchanged looks with one another. That was when Jungkook's girlfriend smirked at him and said something that none of you had been expecting.

"What will you do? Punish me?" Jungkook wrapped his arm around the girl but the girl didn't even bat an eye.

"Is that what this is about?" He roughly pulled on her waist bringing her so close to himself that his chest was pressed against her.

"You're not going to answer me, baby?" That was when he gripped onto her hair tightly, yanking it back so that she would look up at him and only him. It had to be some kind of fetish for them, to go out and do all of this in public.

"Is this what the little slut wants?" Your mouth dropped open as she stood there and let him call her that in public. Jimin kept blinking expecting that he would wake up any second and be in a dream.

"Good little kitten," Jungkook praised right before kissing his girlfriend hungrily as if they were in the privacy of their own home and not in the middle of a club. The sight alone was turning you on but you looked away from them when you heard the boy Jungkook had been yelling at speak,

"What the fuck?" He whispered to Jimin as Jungkook and the girl wandered off together,

"I second that." You breathed out turning to Jimin as he slid both you and Taehyung a shot each, pouring out himself one as he watched the couple walk out of the door.

"They do that a lot. They'll pick fights together just to make up later." Jimin told you both before downing the shot,

"Taehyung this is Y/n, Y/n this is Taehyung. My friend, I was telling you about before." That was right, Jimin had mentioned meeting up with another friend of his tonight and this must have been him.

"I'm not good at remembering names, mostly faces. Nice to meet you Taehyung." You greeted him with a handshake and he almost looked shooked that you were talking to him. The truth was he'd been eyeing you up from the other side of the bar before the girl and her boyfriend had come in. He was going to ask Jimin to slid you a drink but now he didn't have to,

"Nice to meet you too Y/n," He breathed out, taking your hand in his and shaking it slowly. Jimin watched you both with a smirk on his face, he'd seen the way you'd both been watching each other before he wasn't blind. Jimin also knew that both of you had been looking to date, searching for that right person and so he knew just what to do.

"Just call me cupid," He chuckled to himself, leaving you both alone at the side of the bar as he went to go and make some more drinks for other customers to stop himself from looking at you.  

"What brings you out tonight then? Other than being a pawn in someone's sex games," You questioned him while trying to hold back a small laugh. Taehyung laughed along with you as he pulled out a bar stool for you to sit next to him on, he had a huge smile on his face which was nice to see in comparison to the scared one he'd had on before.

"Jimin finishes early tonight, we're going to go out for a drink." As you heard the answer come from Taehyung your eyes flashed over to Jimin who was avoiding you - something he did when he knew he would be caught in a lie.

"What about you?" You smirked into the glass of wine you were drinking and looked at Taehyung,

"Jimin finishes late tonight, I came for moral support." That was when Taehyung began to register what was happening, it was just last week Tae had been complaining to Jimin that there was an office party coming up and he needed a date.

"Jimin seems to be playing cupid," He chuckled as he looked up into your eyes, you were smiling at him so it was a good sign.

"I told him I needed a date for a party next month...This must be his strange way of getting me one." You laughed softly, but Taehyung seemed to be hurt and you instantly began shaking your head and stumbling over your words.

"I didn't mean that-that you were strange...I-I just meant that there are s-so many different ways that Jimin could have done this f-for us!" He chuckled watching you stumble over your words, it was cute to see that you were so concerned over his feelings even though you hardly knew him and he reached out to touch your hand.

"It's alright, I think it's nice that Jimin did this for us." You smiled softly as he looked at you. His hand still not leaving yours as you exchanged looks with one another.

"Well since we've both been lied to, would you like to go and get something to eat? I can drop you off at home after. We'll get a taxi though since we've been drinking." He was starting to ramble on his words now as he asked you to dinner, you could feel your body heating up at the sudden attention you were getting.

"Are you asking me on a date?" You whispered as you bit down on your lip and touched his arm carefully,

"I am," Taehyung wasn't sure where his sudden boost of confidence was coming from but he was going to roll with it if it meant you would say yes.

"I'd love that, maybe then I can hear myself think." You joked about the loud music and Taehyung stood up. Holding his hand out for you to take as he walked out of the bar. Jimin watched with a giant smile on his face before realising neither of you had paid for the drinks he'd given you.

"That's what I get for interfering," He grumbled, sliding the two shot glasses into the tray for the dishwasher.

The taxi pulled up outside your apartment and you glanced at Taehyung. The night had been so nice since you went out together you didn't want to have to say goodbye to him yet. Dinner together was wonderful and then he took you out for a night walk, grabbing a hot chocolate as you walked by the river together. Exchanging stories of how you'd met Jimin, getting to know one another on a personal level and it made you yearn to know him more. You wanted another date just like this because there was nothing more perfect. It was as though the whole night had been something plucked out of a romance novel, something you'd never thought you could have again.

"Would you like to come up for a hot chocolate?" You offered, your heart thumping against your chest at the thought of him saying no to you. Taehyung's heart was leaping as you asked him to go up with you. He'd been trying to think of anything he could do to make the night last longer or to ask you out again but he'd been drawing blanks on how to do it.

"Sure," He whispered, leaning forward to pay the cab driver and get out of the car with you. Both of you walked in silence towards the elevator,

"I have to warn you, I make a great hot chocolate." You giggled as you stepped into the small elevator, it was only meant for three people max so it wasn't the biggest of places for you to stand together.

"I'll hold you to it, I think I can make a better one." You scoffed at his statement as you pushed the top floor button,

"Puh-lease, we shall see." You teased him as you poked his blushing cheeks, that was when your hand stayed on his face. Neither of you moving as you stared into one another eyes,

"You have really pretty eyes," You whispered to him as you stared up into them, it was the first time you were seeing them in such good lighting.

"Y-You too." He whispered back to you, your hand slowly began to lower from his cheek but he rushed his hand up to keep it on his face.

"I-I like it," You felt the back of your neck and face heat up as he said this to you. Taehyung reached down and cupped your face in his hands this time, running his thumb along your lower lip as he stared at you.

"Can I do something probably totally inappropriate for a first date?" He questioned slowly as he looked at you, you nodded at him. His touch was making you feel as though you could do anything, you'd never experienced anything like this before. That was when he began to slowly lean down to you, your faces inches apart. He left a gap as his lips hovered above yours but you were far too impatient for him to close it. Throwing your arms around his neck you kissed him sweetly, your stomach flipping as soon as you kissed him. The elevator felt as though it was starting to spin as he kissed your back. Running his tongue along your bottom lip as he asked for entrance, you gladly gave it to him. Letting your tongue explore his mouth as he bent down to pick you up in his arms. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist as he walked you out of the elevator,

"B-Bottom door on the left." You panted against his lips as he continued to make out with you, he chuckled as you whined at him for stopping.

"Keys?" He chuckled as you began kissing his jawline, reaching into your pocket for your apartment key. He let you down carefully as you fumbled with the lock to your door, as you struggled Taehyung took this chance to kiss the back of your neck, and up to your ear.

 "So pretty the way you whined out just then," The whispered words made your legs shake as you pushed the door open, dragging Taehyung in by the shirt he was wearing. He chuckled against your lips as you hungrily kissed him again, tearing off the coat he was wearing as he did the same to you.

"Are you sure about this?" He questioned as you began pulling him towards your bedroom, you were half-naked from the stripping you'd done in the living room. Standing in nothing by a pencil skirt and your bra while Taehyung was in nothing but the suit trousers he'd worn that day.

"I-I am, are you?" You swallowed the lump in your throat as you looked at him. Using the tip of your finger to trace the outline of his abs that were on display for you.

"Never been so sure about something in my life," He admitted as he brought you into another kiss, taking you over to the bed where you laid him down and straddled his lap.

"Mmm, Tae." You whined out as you ground down against the tent in his trousers, he let out a loud groan as you finally gave one another some kind of friction you'd been longing for.

"I need you." You whispered to him as you bent down to kiss him again, rolling your hips up and down on him as you made out on the bed.

"I need you too," He panted as you began to kiss down his jawline and down his chest, looking up at him to make sure that this was okay. He nodded at you and you smirked reaching his trousers, you began to undo the belt from around the pants and he blushed as he was watching you.

"Fuck you feel huge," You mumbled in surprise as you began to palm him through the fabric of his trousers and he groaned out, rolling his hips up to meet your hand. He was blushing deeper at your words so you began to pull down his trousers and boxers, throwing them somewhere in your room as you took him into your hand. He was bigger than expected and your mouth watered at the sight of him.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" He was concerned as he watched your eyes glaze over, but you were filled to the brim with lust.

"I'm sure," You began pumping in your hand slowly before you placed your lips over the tip of his cock. Sucking softly as he threw his head back against the pillows moaning out loudly. It gave you that sudden boost of confidence you needed so you began to take him deeper into your mouth, looking up at him as you pumped what you couldn't fit into your mouth.

"J-Just like that," He panted out as you began to move your head faster, bobbing your head quickly as you closed your eyes. Ignoring the need to gag every time his cock hit the back of your throat. Taehyung cried out your name, bucking his hips up a little as his hands made their way into your hair. He glanced down at you to make sure this was okay, you pulled off his cock. A string of saliva and precum still connecting you both together. You just nodded at him as you spat down onto his cock, massaging it in as you began to grow wetter second by second.

"Oh god," He moaned out as he watched you pull off your bra and skirt. Within seconds your lips were wrapped around his cock again, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock as you listened to his angelic moans. It was enough to get you off on its own.

"S-Shit, s-stop or--or I'm gonna c-cum," He strangled out a moan but you wanted to see him cum, you wanted to taste him so you picked up the pace of your head. Pushing your face down so your nose was against his pubic area and he grunted loudly.

"Oh fuck!" He held onto your hair as he came down the back of your throat. Hot bursts of cum making you moan out around him at the taste.

Slowly pulling off you locked eyes with him as you swallowed all of his seed, giggling afterwards as you saw the look of lust take over his face. He was still hard as he brought you up into a kiss, not caring that he could taste his cum on your lips. He wanted to be inside of you desperately,

"D-Do you have any-" He stopped questioning when you reached into your bedside drawer and pulled ou a condom.

"Put it on me," He whispered, you licked your lips and pulled the condom from the packet. Carefully rolling it over his member while he ran his fingers over your folds. Pushing two fingers into you,

"Dripping wet, just from sucking me off?" You nodded at him, whining out as he pushed his fingers in and out of you slowly. Curling them when he hit just the right spot for you. It was as if he'd known your body before you'd gotten to this point.

"T-Tae," You cried out, moving your hips backwards to meet the pump of his fingers as you pumped him in your hand.

"F-Fuck me please," You begged him and he moaned out at your voice, laying you below him as he held himself at your entrance. Teasing you with the head of his cock as you whined out for him to fuck you already.

He slowly slid into your pussy as you both let out loud moans, looking into one another's eyes as he began rocking his hips back and forth steadily. One hand resting on your hip as he thrust in and out of you slowly.

"F-Faster," You whimpered running your hands down your body and began rubbing your clit rolling your head back as you moaned his name.

"Oh g-god," He moaned out thrusting into you a little faster but it wasn't enough. You giggled as you flipped you both over. Resting your hands on his chest as you began to bounce up and down on his cock quickly.

"Holy fuck," He grunted loudly as he gripped onto your hips and dug his nails into your skin.

"R-Right there," You whimpered out as you continued to rock back and forth on his cock. Your head rolling backwards as you continued to hit yourself in all the right places.

"Y-Y/n...I-I'm close," He mumbled trying to hold back his orgasm for as long as he could but it hadn't been long since his first and he was sensitive to your touch. You clenched around him as you moaned out,

"D-Do it, T-Taehyung I'm close." You whispered as you felt your stomach beginning to tighten each time you rode him. That was when he took over.

Taehyung gripped onto your hips and began thrusting into you as fast and hard as he could. You clenched around him as your mouth fell open. Nothing but whimpers and loud moans falling from your lips as you felt pleasure rip through your body. It was something you'd never felt before,

"Oh fuck!" You cried out, digging your nails into his shoulders as your stomach snapped and you came hard around him. Yelling out his name as you came down from your high. Taehyung wasn't far behind you, a couple more of his thrusts and he slowed down to a stop, cumming into the condom as he moaned out your name panting heavily as he did so.

You were laid on his chest as he drew small invisible patterns on your skin, just holding you in silence as you both tried to catch your breath.

"W-Whoa," You whispered as you rolled off to lay next to him,

"I-I really did want to invite you in for a hot chocolate," You added as you looked up at him, praying that this wasn't going to be a one-time thing between you. The chemistry felt too strong for it to just be a fling.

"Well, I'll tell you what, if you make a hot chocolate I'll cook breakfast in the morning." Your heart swelled up at the mention of breakfast,

"You're staying?" He nodded his head, reaching out to cup your face and run his fingers over your cheeks.

"I-I want to ask you out again...Another date?" You nodded at him, a giant smile taking over your face as you leant in to give him a kiss on the lips.

"I would love another date," He chuckled kissing you again as he pulled you closer to him on the bed. 

Tagline: @fluffyjoons​ @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @fan-ati--c​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​ @rjsmochii​ @bisexualmess007​ @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​

[marabrosca]

[REUPLOAD] - What You Seek Will Find You (Cullen x Lavellan)

a commission for @cullenvhenan with her OC immy 

words: 3k

summary: Cullen reflects on his heart's desires, and comes to the one thing he wants the most. (Cullen’s pov fic and his falling in love with Imryll Lavellan)

tags: pining, soft, romance, kissing

warning: contains mentions of racism/colorism but is never directly said to any poc

Read it on AO3

It was uncomfortable to see a chantry half full, Cullen decided. He couldn’t remember a time where he and his family would attend a sermon, and be joined by only a dozen people. The chantry in his youth accommodated with every seat and then some, as many late arrivals would continue to listen to the Revered Mother’s litany whilst standing in the back by the front door. Having the room be so scarce, having so many pews be empty, made the ceremony feel far more serious and intimidating than intended.

It was here that Cullen would be fulfilling his dream of joining the Templar Order, taking his vows and swearing to protect Thedas at the behest of the Andraste Herself. He peered over at the towering statue of the prophet, Her pyre burning brightly but expanding no more light into the room than a few candles. He felt himself shrink into his armor, picking nervously at his embroidered skirt as Andraste’s stone eyes bore into him. It was a dull service he had to admit. A withered old chantry Sister recited the Chant Of Light in an almost monotone voice, pausing every few lines to include the sacred blessings given to those joining the Order.

Cullen had practiced his vows more times than he could count. There were formal promises to make, but they came strictly with a list. When he had been given the list, the scroll lay heavy in his hands. The gold ribbon around it had made it seem as resplendent as the Chantry’s interior, and no less important than the impression it made. Each Templar was to choose their own vows, their own honest promises to the Maker.

Everyone is different, and we are all here for different reasons. But now we join as one, and must do what is expected of us. Therefore, it is the responsibility of one who chooses to walk the path of sacrifice, to pave the road they walk on.

It was something that was repeated to him in the upcoming weeks of the ceremony. There were many ways, as it turned out, to prove one’s faithfulness to the Maker. There was fasting, sacrificing of material goods (not that Templars had many personal items to begin with), excessive prayer, public preaching, and at least ten other things that Cullen could remember. There was only one that gave him pause: chastity, and the detachment to romantic relations, even within marriage. Cullen felt weak for admitting it, but the idea of a future in solitude wasn’t exactly appealing. Not that it was supposed to be. The idea was that a Templar-to-be would set aside personal desire and focus solely on duty, devoting themselves entirely to their service.

But Cullen saw no reason why he couldn’t do both. A part of him, a part he hid from others, was enamored with the idea of marriage. He’d caught himself many times dreaming of the day his soul-mate would enter his life, accepting the promise to live in each other’s hearts. It was indulgent and juvenile, but he wondered if perhaps one day he’d be in chantry taking entirely different vows than the ones he would proclaim that day. As far as Cullen could see, there were no obstacles in finding someone who was Andrastian. They’d have to be, wouldn’t they? Followers of the chantry and the Maker filled every space in Ferelden, and certainly he wouldn’t be traveling far from Kinloch Hold after the ceremony. Frankly, there was no reason to worry.

The young man heard his name and he stood, almost too quickly, and shuffled out of the pew, making his way to the Revered Mother. She looked at him with a kind smile, and he bowed his head in response. The woman’s hand hovered above him, pausing.

“Have you prepared your promises to the Maker, accepting His blessing as a holy child and servant of Andraste?” “Yes.” He replied firmly, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

-

Decades had passed since that day, disappearing like a dream interrupted by daylight. At no point would Cullen expect anything he had experienced, or where he was now. Snow crunched under his boots as he surveyed twenty new recruits to the Inquisitor’s forces- the DalishInquisitor – yet they served just as devout to the chantry as he had once been. An uncomfortable, heavy force weighed on him at the thought; a reminder of his skewed mind from the past. It was a part of him he didn’t want to forget, so that he would never become that man again. He didn’t, however, want it to swallow him whole. That part was harder.

Two of the newest recruits, George and Elliott, were sent to fetch a requisition officer that had been surveying the Storm Coast for some time. The men seemed eager, and promising, and gave off an air of charisma that delivered a boost in morale. Soon enough they returned with the aforementioned officer. She was a tall, lanky elf with pale skin and large, striking emerald eyes. Her black hair fell to her mid-back, lips pink and puffy in the cold. Cullen greeted her politely, taking the missives from her hands as she smiled pleasantly at him. The officer followed Cullen to the desk planked beside the staircase extending from the ramparts. He didn’t miss the almost pungent smell of perfume on her, but made no comment. The commander settled the forms into a neat pile, getting ready to turn to his scouts, when he looked up and noticed that she was still standing there. He cleared his throat when she did not have anything to say. “Thank you, Deanna, for going out of your way.”

“No problem at all, Commander.” The elf smiled at him, folding her hands behind her back.

“Ah…was there something else you needed?” Deanna twirled a finger through a lock of hair, her cheeks turning pinker than before.

“Actually, I was wondering if you were busy tonight.” She replied, eyeing the desk quickly before settling her sights on his face. George and Elliott watched the sight, impressed with their Commander’s obliviousness to her body language.

“As it happens, I am very busy tonight,” Cullen answered, turning and handing the papers over to a scout without pause. “There is still much work to be done if Skyhold is to ever be inhabitable. And I fear the most difficult challenges are yet to come. Why? Does something require my attention?” Deanna’s smile sunk to her knees with her shoulders following suit. “Um, no, it was nothing. Thank for your time, Commander.” “And you, as well.” Cullen responded with a nod, watching the elf turn and make her way up the stairs.

-

As busy as the ex-Templar seemed to be, he had set some time aside that evening to have a walk down the ramparts with Inquisitor Imryll. Soon the easy stride had turned to a pause, then to a conversation, then to a kiss. It was clearly unplanned and unexpected- quite the opposite of how Cullen had always carried himself- but there was no doubt in the way Imryll held onto his back and caressed his hair, that she didn’t object to it.

Gossip spread like the Blight within Skyhold regarding the Inquisitor’s supposed “dalliance” with the Commander. A couple of messengers and guards that had been making their way by wasted no time sharing the tale of what they had witnessed, or exaggerating it.

“It was a sweep of passion! He grabbed her and they nearly dipped as if they were dancing!” “I wasn’t that close, so I couldn’t really tell, but Ser Rutherford appeared very harsh with our Lady Inquisitor. Do you think he treats all his women that way?” “She hypnotized him with blood magic, I swear!” The only things the tales had in common was that a kiss was involved, anything else could not be answered, much to the disappointment of the staff who were almost growing bored of the mundane. When the news reached Elliott, he was quick to share what he heard over a drink on the grass with George, who turned his nose up in disgust. “See that, I just don’t get.” “What’s not to get? You don’t know what a kiss is? Do you revolt women that much?” “No, smartass.” George took a swig from his flask before continuing. “I don’t get how someone would, ya know, go for an elf. Does he seem like the type? And that elf on top of it- what’s next, a Qunari?”

Elliott let out a cackling laugh, almost catching his lip between his browning teeth. “Not your type, eh?” “Not anybody’s type.” George tried to adjust himself on the ground, reaffirming his seat in the same spot once the dizziness ceased his actions. “At least you got- at least you got some lookers here, right? Like that one from before…that, uh, Deanna. Them ones with the big eyes and the curves and all- and have you ever seen an elf that was so dark?” “Not before the Inquisitor. Her eyes are black, did you notice? Do you think she’s blind?” “I thought all elves were ivory and lanky and- where did she even come from?” “Somewhere up north.” “Up north, bah.” George, not heeding the warning his body gave him before, took another large gulp. “If you asked me, I’d kiss an ogre any day before I’d even think about kissin’ her. She wouldn’t-”

Before he could finish his ramblings, a pair of hands grabbed them both from behind, lifting them by the collars and onto their feet. George almost vomited, feeling the searing burn shoot up his throat at the assault. Both men turned sharply to be met with the fiery eyes of their Commander. The men could feel their faces turn numb and a pulse beat in the back of their skulls. Elliott dropped his mug without thinking, licking his lips in an attempt to speak.

“Commander-”

“I don’t want to hear another word.” “But-” “Not. One. Word.” Cullen’s teeth stuck out starkly against his reddening face.

The recruits gulped, bugged-eyed as George swayed slightly from the alcohol. Cullen’s gaze locked onto the mug spilling yellow liquid onto the grass. “I see that your night of leisure has given you loose tongues.”

Cullen pondered what kind of punishment should bestow them. Perhaps they were to be bound and brought to the Inquisitor on her throne, and beg at her feet for mercy after confessing their crimes? The idea was enticing, but it was likely the display would embarrass Imryll, and he needn’t put more on her shoulders regarding her reputation. Besides, she hadn’t heard the words herself, so why hurt her feelings? No, that simply wouldn’t do. They needed to learn a lesson…a long-term lesson. Without warning Cullen grabbed them by the collar again and pushed them both face-first into the dirt. “You will clean this mess, and then pack your things. At dawn, you will be deployed to the Hissing Wastes, where you will remain until the hole in the sky is welded shut.” The Hissing Wastes was the most miserable landscape in Thedas Imryll had ventured to that he could think of. It was a constant scorching mass of dry air and sand, flipping the coin completely when all was frozen over at night. Only the most hardened travelers could tolerate its climate. It was a long-lasting punishment for a crime that could permanently scar having landed in Imryll’s ears.

Without another word Cullen turned on his heel and walked back to the fortress, ignoring the groaning coming from behind him. As he moved out of sight, Elliott wobbled down to pick his mug off the ground, and George let go of all the liquid courage in his stomach that had sealed their fates.

-

Days had passed since the new blood of the Inquisition seemingly vanished overnight, but Cullen’s hands still upturned into fists at the memory. He hadn’t been there when they were carted off, but it was reported right before that they wished to beg forgiveness. Cullen dismissed the messenger with a wave of his hand and went back to his business like he was the only one in the room. He scowled, eyeing the ground with intensity as not to scream, a look that caught the eye of the curly-haired elf standing across from him. She walked up to him before he could react, kissing the knot between his eyebrows. All at once he melted, tense muscles going loose for a brief moment as he looked up. Her smile was concerned, and he felt his face relaxing as not to worry her further. “Are you alright?” she asked, grazing the back of her fingers along the side of his face, leaving goose bumps in her wake.

“Yes…I’m fine.” He let out a breath, willing himself to calm down. His hand reached up to grasp hers, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. It made them both blush, and Imryll’s fingers curled in his grasp.

“I had been wondering this for a while,” she started, not pulling away from his hold.

“That day you kissed me on the battlements…how long had you wanted to do that?”

Cullen couldn’t help but let out a laugh, smiling despite the heat in his cheeks. Her tone wasn’t mischievous, merely curious. A part of him advised against telling her; it was unprofessional at the very least to admit that he had wanted his lips on hers not too long after meeting, before Skyhold, even. Despite not being the best of friends at the time, Cullen found himself gravitating towards her, and desired her approval for more than just reasons regarding their duty.

He smiled sheepishly before finally answering her query.

“Longer than I should admit.”

-

Springtime scarcely differed from winter when it came to living on a mountain. Everyone still wore furs up to their noses and the courtyard was rarely full. Merchant deliverers unloaded their cargo as quickly as they could before ducking into the tavern. Orlesian noblewomen paraded their flower-adorned shifts about, calling attention to their “eye to detail”, modeling their appearance after the Skyhold garden. This, in reality, was meant to turn attention away from their unseemly reddening noses each time they needed to lift their mask and cough into a handkerchief.

Despite this -and despite her own hatred for the cold- Imryll could still be found tending to her plants- the ones that would survive the elements. She frowned as she lifted a limp stem with her finger, disappointed she wouldn’t be able to expand her alchemy skills just yet. Vivienne had warned her it was too early to start studying potions that required foliage, but in an effort to impress her, Imryll had tried it anyway. And now she was thinking of a way to dispose of the dead roots without embarrassing herself.

The sound of familiar footsteps behind her turned her attention away from the frozen soil, lifting her mood in an instant. “There you are. I was worried you’d still be out here.” Cullen sighed.

“Oh, yes. I was seeing how things were going,” she replied, gesturing to the frozen soil “Don’t tell Vivienne.” Cullen chuckled and removed his cloak, draping it over her shoulders.

“You’ll catch cold out here.” His touched his forehead with hers, watching as she scrunched her nose at the tickle of the wind.

“Walk me back?” Imryll guided them the long way around, entwining her arm with Cullen’s. Halfway there her legs had “gone completely numb from the cold”, and their only solution was to duck into an archway that housed a small stone bench. The elf laid her cheek on the part of his armor still covered by cloth, and sighed as his fingers glided down her arm.

“Feeling better?” “Not yet,” she replied, moving ever closer into his arms. Cullen held her tighter, making the Inquisitor smile. Her soft, round cheek was squished up against his chest, and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing. The atmosphere was too serene to believe. The moon now overshadowed the sun, leaving the walkway empty aside from them. Imryll gazed out at the greenery that still grew around them. But Cullen’s eyes were transfixed on her. In these escaping moments of peace, he found himself wondering what he would do in the future. If she survived- when she survived the impending battle with Corypheus- what would he do? He had been only a child the last time he lead a normal life, even though nothing for him would be truly normal again. Would she go with him? Would she go back to her clan? His stomach coiled at the thought, as selfish as it was. He wouldn’t blame her for returning to her people when this was all over, but surly he could not join her. The Dalish didn’t welcome humans as passersby, let alone a human lover. What if she left him? Did she not feel as strongly about their relationship as he did? Would she have to choose?

And more importantly, how would he declare the choice he’s made?

He couldn’t imagine a life without her. Despite the hardships and horrors he’s endured, having Imryll walk out of his life would be the breaking point. His gaze solemnly drifted to the bare blackness of the sky, subconsciously tightening his grip on Imryll.  

“Cullen? Is something wrong?” she asked, lifting her head.

“Oh- I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” “No…” the Inquisitor waited for an answer to her question.

“I think we should go back inside. I’m sure you’d be far more comfortable with warm tea in your bed, wouldn’t you say?” Imryll perked up at the thought and reluctantly sat up to stretch.

“Will you be joining me?” Imryll asked over her shoulder, half flirtatiously. “If my lady wishes so.” Cullen responded, chuckling and standing to join her on the walk back to her quarters.

“I do. But is that what you want?”

What I want… Without warning the commander hoisted her up into his arms, leaning his head down to kiss her lips. She let out a yelp before laughing, slapping lightly at his chest as he carried her through the garden. Wind brushed roughly against the pathway flowers, sending a few white petals into the air, catching onto Imryll’s curls. Their white littered the stone, creating an almost snowy effect as he walked. They went unnoticed by Imryll, who was too distracted reaching up to playfully peck at her lover’s chin.

What he wanted…

He knew now more than ever.

-

Imryll had taken some time to teach Cullen threads of Dalish before, but nothing like this.

“Sylaise enaste var aravel…”

The sound of her native tongue caressed his ears. Everything in that moment disappeared except for her; and although he couldn’t understand the words, he felt them in his heart. He wanted her promise to be true, and he trusted that it was.

“I swear unto the Maker and The Holy Andraste to love this woman the rest of my days.”

As the words left his lips, they connected with hers. Perhaps he should have waited until Mother Giselle made the official decree, but he couldn’t wait another moment.

The kiss ended with the faint tickle of Cullen’s breath against her lips. His nose stayed atop hers, soft chestnut eyes barely open beneath his lashes. It was their first kiss as a married couple, a term they could barely comprehend. Cullen sighed blissfully, capturing the moment in his mind down to every detail as the setting sun painted them in golden light, as if the world turned just for them. Imryll’s skin blended with the rays. Her eyes reflected, but were not illuminated by the shine, creating a stark clear surrounding of white around the onyx that seduced him so many times.

Imryll took but a single step before she was whisked off her feet. A surprised yelp quickly turned to giggles as her husband hoisted her into his arms in a true bridal-fashion. Mushy bounced excitedly at Cullen’s feet and wagged his tail, attempting to angle himself so that he could leap up to join Imryll.

“Blasted-get down! I can’t hold the both of you.”

Imryll laughed joyously, taking her lover’s face into her hands.

“How long have you wanted to do that?”

Cullen smiled down at her.

“Longer than I should admit.”

[actlikeyoudidntdoit]

ASSASSIN’S MODERN DAY PROFESSIONS

—————————————————

ALTAÏR

College Professor

-We all know that Altaïr has spent most of his life teaching, so what better job does he have than a college professor?

-He knows what he’s talking about, that much is certain, but sometimes he gets a little too lost in his lesson to realize that his students are scratching their heads. So it’s normal to have students staying after class, but they leave understanding every word of what he said.

-He’s not the fun teacher, but he’ll be able to teach you what you need and still remember it at the end of the day.

-He’s pretty lenient, and even with the obnoxious students who cause a scene, he calmly gets them to at least do their work.

-Other teachers always use him as a reference when it comes to the perfect teacher.

EZIO AUDITORE

-I can see Ezio being a public speaker since he’s not all that scared of crowds and spends a lot of time giving advice, so I think he’d really enjoy being able to help a crowd of people whose lives are falling apart

-Ezio would be the single anchor in a sea of storms because he always seems to have an answer for everything. He’s a man whose words are turned into inspirational quotes that people hang on their walls.

-When he says that things will be okay, no one doubts him since they know that he lost his father and his brothers very early on and that it took years for Ezio to accept the loss the way he had. If he could soldier through it, why couldn’t they?

-He doesn’t involve himself in politics, finding them to be a waste of time and breath despite how many people ask for his input on the political status of the country he’s staying in.

-He speaks to a lot of people in private, letting them speak their minds and giving his advice if they want it. He’s a therapist without a license, and you always feel hopeful about life leaving his office.

Connor

Construction or Sports

-This boy was designed for heavy work, and I’ve heard some good points in saying that not only would he be amazing at sports, but he’d also really enjoy it too.

-In my personal headcanon, I think he’d be a good construction worker as well. Not the high end kind that build skyscrapers or anything, but I can see him building simple houses for small communities, taking the lower jobs that can’t afford much help like the sweetheart he is. He definitely volunteers to make houses for the homeless.

-Since most of the homeless he helps don’t have much money, he makes sure to offer them baked goods because he’s definitely a baker.

Edward Kenway

-As a young man, he joins the navy

-Once he’s on his own, he buys his own boat and treats it like royalty.

-He’s not a pirate himself, but he does let less legal people on board for a price. At the time, it was just an easy cash pay since people paid good money when they were desperate.

-When he’s older and gets a grip on some of the people he’s helping (like the REALLY bad criminals) he quickly lets it go.

-Yet after seeing some of the more decent people and the places they were running from, I can see him being a sort of smuggler, but instead of smuggling drugs or weapons, he sells medicines, canned foods, and clothes to the regions where they’re scarce or hard to pay for.

-When he’s older and found a fortune over time, he starts up his own official charity, hiring various sailers to sail supplies to more places than he himself could alone.

SHAY CORMAC

-Okay, I have to say it. Shay would DEFINITELY be an FBI spy. Maybe I haven’t thought of it as heavily as I could, but he just strikes me as a man who could kill someone in plain sight and still not be seen.

-He already knows everything he can about infiltrating and getting vital information

-He knows exactly how to manipulate people to get what he wants.

-He’s like Macgyver but as an agent.

-He does things that make sleeping at night impossible, but he tells himself that every long night for him is another person somewhere else having a peaceful night, and peaceful nights means he’s doing his job. Right?

-Constantly questions his morals, but he can’t bring himself to stop, not knowing that he’d do if he stopped, because at least here he’s doing something. He’s contributing.

-That and maybe I might or might not want to see Shay in a suit 🤷‍♀️

AVELINE

-Actress. And a damn good one. She’s one of the kind of people who get paid millions each job and gives most of her cash on people who really need it. Not only that, she’s a fan favorite everywhere.

-She takes extra jobs in smaller businesses barely staying afloat, and public morality boosts has nothing to do with it. In fact, she keeps her fame life out of everything, choosing to see it just as another job.

-I can see her sharing similarities of Zendaya or Zoe Zaldana

ARNO DORIAN

-High school teacher or actor, I can’t decide.

-Because let’s be honest, this guys brain is more wrinkled than a raisin. He knows his stuff.

-He’s good at simplifying what he’s saying, and that happens to be a very useful trait when it comes to teaching.

-If he was a teacher, he’d be a damn good one, that’s for sure. No one will fail his class because he’s so good at explaining things, and he’d be the one who actually cares for his students.

-When it comes to acting... just admit that Arno’s a theater boy through and through. If you need proof, he’s the only one with a crazy amount of fancy robes and colors. FOR GODS SAKE HE OWNS A THEATER! So on modern day, I could totally see him as an actor as well.

-He’d be the Ewan Mcgregor of the modern day, because everyone recognizes him from SOMEWHERE because he’s really tested his acting ability on multiple various roles. Well read, charming, and level headed, he’d totally rock being an actor. He’s good friends with Aveline, and when they both have time in their busy schedules, they stop by for coffee and fill each other in on their life.

JACOB

-Boxing

-I saw the photoshops of Jacob in boxer life, and I have not been the same because oh my god that is amazing.

-but absolutely he’d be a boxer. He’s the shortest guy in the entire match, but he doesn’t need a stool to knock you on your ass before you can laugh about it.

-His opponents are lucky shattering bones is against the rules because he knows how to make someone wish their dad wore a condom.

-A lot of people think that his rounds must be rigged, and his sister had to physically hold him back every time Jacob threatened to give him a close up of how ‘rigged’ his fights were.

-Jacobs a powder keg, so it doesn’t take much to make him explode, and a lot of the less respectful people he has to fight picks particularly sore spots to do just that.

-He might be pissed, but his punch isn’t the only thing that stings. He knows exactly what words to use, and when they’ve gone too far, he doesn’t hold back.

-Might have a temper, but he has a good heart despite it all. He visits schools and completely turns his personality around with kids. He signs autographs, takes pictures, and makes sure that every one of them have a fun day because he knows that there’s some kids in this school that don’t have those kinds of days. He pays the school for field days each time, making sure they all get out. They bring out the scooters, parachutes, capture the flag, and ‘wrestling’ matches for the kids who want to face him. He loses every time. He never has a bigger smile on his face than when he has children fans walk up to him.

EVIE

-She is totally a lawyer and you can’t change my mind.

-Logic and Facts are her strongest weapons, and so far she has yet to lose a debate.

-Every other lawyer knows that seeing Evie walk into court is an instant death sentence, because like her brother, her words are sharp as a knife and her mind is even sharper.

-If they didn’t look identical, no one would believe that she would be related with Jacob the hot headed boxer, because she was level as water and was near impossible to make angry, but god help the poor sod that presses her.

-Her clients almost always get the best case scenario with Evie by their side by how good she is.

-Also like her brother, children are her weak spot, and her hard composure melts whenever she needs to speak to a child in the witness post, making sure that the child feel comfortable unlike the others that drill the kid with questions when they’re too skittish to answer. She takes her time and gets the kid feeling safe, and gently asks their side.

-Evie might not do it as a profession, but Evie has beaten Jacob in the boxing ring in the gym. She knows damn well how to handle herself, knowing she’d need it since she’d be fighting corrupt politicians or gang members who have too often tried attempts at her life. Every time she emerged unscathed, using the attempt at even more evidence against them and insuring a spot in jail. No one dared try attacking her again after that.

BAYEK

-I’m thinking police officer or motivational speaker for trauma.

-Either way, he’s a guardian who takes care of the people he’s in charge of. He knows words well, and having been down the dark path himself, he knows exactly what people experience and what they want to hear.

-Be the change you want to see in the world, and that’s exactly what he’s doing.

-He’d be a well respected officer, and he’s not afraid of telling off a comrade if someone is wrongfully accused. He’s not very popular in the police station, but as long as he’s doing his job, he’s satisfied.

-He’s saved several people over the course in his life, and his word is well honored since he’s on no ones side. He sees things as what they are and doesn’t twist events he disagreed with to his point of view. Even if it hurts him personally, he doesn’t lie.

-He’s divorced, but they’re still best friends with each other and visit when they can.

AYA (ran out of gifs. Sorry)

-She is hands down a self defense teacher for women

-She sells hidden self defense tools for less than ten dollars, always sure to keep constantly supply of them since many have confessed that they’ve saved them from dangerous situations.

-Like her former husband, she’s a protector and makes sure she provides her students with the best.

-She teaches children what to do if they ever get grabbed, and she’s had many parents in years thanking her when that information ended up saving their child’s life.

ALEXIOS

-Hands down he is a stunt double

- Preferably Arno’s since he relies more on flexibility than brute strength. Then there’s the fact that they look similar enough in features

-He does the moves that would probably be safer if they were just CGI, but he hates those computers with a passion, preferring to do the real thing instead of giving out something fake. He’s broken more bones than he can count, and the companies he works with always have a medic on standby when something goes wrong.

-They tried convincing him that they only needed him for a few spots, but after realizing that he wanted this (and him assuring them that he doesn’t bother with suing), they let him do his thing. The results are fruitful since the most nitpicky movie fans are absolutely thrilled when there’s a particular move done right.

-He teaches Arno a good few things about how to do action scenes, and they’re definitely good friends.

KASSANDRA

-Roller Derby

-She lives for throwing people and smacking them without being judged for it, so the Derby’s her safe spot.

-Everyone on the opposing team is terrified of her, always scared when they see her devilish smile, knowing that they’re about to get their asses handed to them. Like her brother, she’s an adrenaline junky, and when she’s not doing the derby, she’s going off into car races in a water trench. She’s surprisingly very good with cars too, knowing the inside and out of a car like the back of her hand.

-She loves it when men try to catcall her. It gives her a perfect opportunity to punch them in the face.

-She loves the races themselves because no one expects it. Sometimes she pretends to act like a beginner and absolutely slaughter them, giving them a nice wink before driving out with her cash.

-Only has a soft spot for the girl who visits her on weekends. She’s practically her older sister, and there will be hell to pay if her favorite kid gets hurt in any way.

EIVOR

-BACA(Bikers Against Child Abuse)

-The moment I saw this, I instantly thought about them.

-they would absolutely be a part of this

-Looking all badass in leather while turning into a softie for children? That’s Eivors entire character right there.

-Eivors not afraid to get physical with an abuser. They’d beat the abuser to a pulp and right after take the child out for ice cream.

-No one messes with Eivor, knowing that their lenience was stretched only for children. Anyone else tried to pressure her? Your teeth would be shattered and they’d wear the bits for a necklace.

-Children are much more brave around them because they’re tougher than their parent and on their side, so they’re not afraid to give them to the police

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Severen

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You first met Severen at the sleazy bar you called your place of employment. You were serving a booth their drinks when he and the others made their entrance. And oh what an entrance it was.

- As per usual, Severen started to make chaos the moment he walked in, talking/laughing loudly and nearly getting himself into a fight. You really didn’t want to go over and serve him but you were the only there besides one other bartender and the man was conveniently MIA.

- So you swallowed down your feelings of dread and maneuvered yourself behind the bar.

- The rowdy man straightened himself out upon your arrival, a Cheshire grin spreading across his face as he focused his sights on you.

“Well ain’t you a pretty little thing.”

- Against your better judgement, a small smile spread across your face. He was much more handsome up close, and when he was behaving himself properly.

- There was an undeniable attraction growing between the two of you, especially on his part. He acted the same as he always did with women but there was something different about you, something special.

- Lets make things clear, none of these vamps know how to do things conventionally, especially not Severen. You don’t have a romantic start to your relationship, you have a frightening one.

- Shit hit the fan not long after you poured the unusual patron a drink. Like a rational person, you plastered yourself against the wall and watched with wide eyes as him and the others dealt with the other occupants of the bar.

- Once they were finished, Severen hopped down on your side of the bar, throwing his arm around your shoulders and calling you cute.

“I think we should keep her.” He grinned, twirling a piece of your hair between his bloodied fingers.

- You were obviously afraid; as one should be, but a part of you was weirdly accepting of the situation. It was as though what you’d experienced was so unreal that your mind decided to rationalize it as though it were normal.

- So when Severen began to lead you out of the bar with them, throwing a pointed look at his companions as they opened their mouths to argue, you just let him. And when he pulled you into the rv with them, talking your ear off and blatantly flirting; you let him do that too.

- Don’t blame yourself too much for your questionable decisions, you’ll find out soon enough that the two of you are mates.

- Since your new friends burnt down the bar, anyone who was aware of your existence thought you were dead which made things particularly easy for Severen.

- For better or for worse, the two of you grew close very quickly and soon enough he decided to shoot his shot. He announced that he would “watch you” as everyone went out in search of a meal.

- While the two of you were walking, he began to ramble on about how you made a good team and how it “only made sense” for the two of you to get together.

“So what do you say?” He grinned at you cockily.

- He kisses you for the first time once you agree, letting out a “well come here then” before he swiftly pulls you in and lays one on you.

- And thus, the chaotic vampire found his one true love.

- Pda? I mean you aren’t in public all that much but he’s constantly hanging all over you so I suppose that’s pretty much the same thing.

- Whenever you are in public, he’s making sure everyone knows that you’re together by keeping his hands on you at all times. He’s very proud of his girl.

- Bear hugs. He’s constantly pulling you in and wrapping his arms tightly around you. He’s going to squeeze the life out of you one day; you’re sure of it.

- Hugs from behind. They’re mainly an excuse for him to grind against your backside.

- Dancing together.

- Holding hands.

- Sooo many pet names; sometimes you’re sure that he’s forgotten your real name. You aren’t complaining though, it makes everytime he calls you your real name even more special/ powerful.

- Affectionate name calling. He can’t explain why he enjoys having you call him an asshole but you should know that he does.

- He likes picking you up, typically by your clothing before he decides that he wants to hold you close.

- Bloody kisses. You better get used to the taste.

- Be wary when he tries to flatter you, especially in excess. He typically has an ulterior motive when he starts to bombard you with compliments.

- He’s constantly teasing you. There is never a time when he isn’t poking fun and trying to get a reaction out of you.

- He’s an annoying ass yet sweet at the same time. He gives off crackhead older brother vibes most of the time. He can mess with you but is ready to tear someone a new one if they try doing the same.

- Witnessing him kick a door down then slide out of the way and hold it open for you with this innocent little doting boyfriend smile. It’s kind of amusing to see how quickly his attitude shifts when you’re involved.

- He’s constantly stealing things for you. You learn not to ask where he gets them from since it’s either a store or someone who’s no longer breathing.

- Causing chaos together. Want to steal a car? Want to start a fire? Want to go completely ape shit? He’s got an anarchist mind and he’s ready for a partner in crime; literally.

- He’s always trying to make you laugh. It isn’t hard for him which never fails to give him an ego boost. He boasts about how you find him hilarious to the others both when you and when you aren’t around.

- Getting to see all his neat little gun tricks. He likes being able to impress you.

- He may or may not get turned on when you handle his guns. Be prepared for more than a few innuendos and instances of him tearing off your clothes.

- He would absolutely feed on you if given the chance. He’d call you delicious before pressing his bloodied lips to your cheek and calling you “a doll”.

- He can clean up surprisingly well. You were genuinely shocked when you saw him all dressed up for the first time.

- Falling asleep on him in the rv.

- The two of you don’t exactly have a bed 90% of the time so you just have to try and cuddle however you can. A lot of the time, you’ll be sitting on his lap with him pressed against your back.

- You’ll have to change your sleep schedule if you want to spend any length of time with him. You being tired sort of kills the mood, even if he finds sleepy you adorable.

- You’re sort of used as a clothing rack. His sunglasses? On you. His jacket? On you. His rings? On you. Its both for “safe keeping” and because you look cute in them.

- Occasionally helping him lure in his victims, or being called a sweetheart when you refuse to.

- He’d find your morals both sweet and exasperating. He enjoys how innocent and kind you are but also yearns for you to be a little evil once in a while.

- Whenever you’re out on the town, he’ll either drag you to the bar with him or you’ll sit with the others in a booth while he does his thing. You‘ll most likely prefer the latter, you might not want to be in the line of fire when he starts causing trouble.

- Playing with or watching him play pool. He likes to wink at you whenever he catches you watching him closely, usually before he makes a perfect shot.

- He curses like a sailor. You can’t remember how many times you’ve had to scold him or slap his arm because he was being completely inappropriate in the worst way possible.

- He also uses insults like they mean nothing. He’ll either call you something or call someone else something which usually tends to start some trouble.

- You pretty much have to keep an eye on him at all times since you know it only takes him a few seconds to completely destroy the peace in the room or wherever else he is. As fun as it is to see him go crazy, sometimes it’s best to not let him get to that point.

- Joking threats. He likes playing up his vampirism, trying to make you a little nervous and enjoying the subtle acceleration of your heart. Even so, he’s the only one that’s allowed to scare you.

- He’s very protective of you even though he; oftentimes, tries to hide it with humor. He tries not to make a big deal out of things until he really has to though occasionally something will really set him off. You’ll be able to see the mirderous intent in his eyes, the twinkles leaves them and they just go cold as his smile drops.

- Anyone that tries to flirt with you is immediately plotted against. It isn’t uncommon for him to kill people that he thinks are trying to get with you. Jesse’s had to hold him back a few times when the group can’t afford a body on their hands. So yes, he’s extremely jealous.

- He claims you with one of his rings, making sure you know exactly what you wearing it means.

“This here,” he takes your hand roughly. “This here means that you’re mine, darlin. Dont you forget it.”

- A sick part of him likes when you get mad or jealous at/over him. Seeing you get all vicious and vindictive makes his day.

- You don’t expect it but he’s fairly good at easing tension. The only problem is that he rarely wants to ease tension. It really just depends on what’s going on, sometimes he’ll want to fight and sometimes he won’t; particularly when it comes to you.

- He’s got a wicked temper and no patience for complaining or anything of the sort. You’ll certainly have your fair share of fights, especially if you plan on staying together for a “long time”.

- He tries to make you smile when “pleading” for your forgiveness. He tries to “cute” or bother his way out of trouble when he manages to really piss you off. You can never really stay mad at him for that exact reason.

- You get a lot of teasing/joking ‘I love you’s’ but you get a few more earnest ones as well. You cherish them since they’re few and far between.

- There’s a part of him which doesn’t want to turn you, keeping you soft and warm, but another part of him couldn’t bear to see you get hurt or imagine a world where you’re not by his side. So he’ll most likely put off biting you for a while before he finally bucks up and does it.

- He’s ready to spend the rest of eternity with you so believe me; he isn’t letting you go anytime soon.

[hetalia-has-a-secretary]

How they met, honeymoon stage, couple crisis, break relationship and reconciliation of the couple. With your favorite character! Come on, GO GO GO

M-my favorite character? (✿^J^)(ʘᴗʘ✿) gonna hit the self indulgent ask before bed lol. TIME TO DUMP SOME SELF INSERT YAHOO!

Trigger warning: Mentions of blood and violence! (Be honest a relationship with Russia will be the most difficult for many reasons, but there is a sunny horizon I swear!)

Russia and the World Meeting's Secretary Headcannons!

How they met:

Cute if you thought it was all rainbows and happy sunshine.

The secretary was immediately interested in Russia, but it was mostly because of her hopeless romance tendencies and he kept just... Staring at her the first few days of her new job.

They only interacted when England and France got into a heated argument about something, something, "You're cooking's more Terrifying than Russia is on a good day"

Mistakes were made and unbeknownst to the Secretary, Russia is quite the intimidating man.

She was only able to gather that by how silent the room got, either way it was part of her contract with Germany to break up any fights that would prevent meetings from running smoothly.

Stepping between the shivering men, and Russia everyone immediately became more concerned, and kicking themselves for not warning her beforehand.

Russia wasn't even bothered by it, he just simply redirected his aura to the new secretary who he gave zero cares about, and was fully expecting them to run away crying, which honestly pleased him since she had the guts to intervene.

"Hm? And what's this? Is the little one going to try and protect those two from me break in the faces, da?"

She felt her nerves on edge, but with a quick breath her hands were on her hips and she shot back at him-

"Don't give me any of that crap. If you're trying to scare me, go find out how to do that from my Ex Step Father..."

Physical gasps were heard, and the tension in the room climbed until Russia seemingly calmed down- "Da, I will sit down then..."

Their other interaction was just as unpleasant a few days later.

Russia pretty much told her that he doesn't care how strong she thinks she is, that no matter how many secretaries Germany hired, he won't step over any lines so long she doesn't.

He was taken aback by her calm demeanor and that she ignored his threat.

"Look- I'm sorry if I upset you, that wasn't my intention. It's literally in my job description. But If you do that again, I'll have to step in again. It's not you, and it's not me. It's the money..."

Then that same day Russia had seen her waiting outside for her ride, and he had a taxi back to his hotel that he was also waiting for, and decided to stand with her.

She straight up asked him if he was willing to try and start over and go to her place for dinner. All while mentally yelling at herself how insane that sounded.

He denied her, and didn't explain why until his taxi arrived. It was due to his plane taking off soon.

He found her place anyway that night deciding to accept her offer since his hotel was closed and booked for someone else the same time his flight was cancelled until next week.

The Honeymoon Phase:

Literally doesn't exist.

Between Russia's problem with communication, and the secretaries lack of her own people skills it was a hot mess for a year or two.

On the outside they seemed extremely happy, even their public behaviors changed. Russia became less violent (give or take the fact the secretary sometimes eggs Russia on to creep the others out when they deserve it or take a joke to far) and the secretary herself seemed to become more positive and out going!

But behind closed doors there is a lot of unsure emotions, and a few... Incidents.

It wasn't exactly sunshine and rainbows. There was no Honeymoon Phase were they did nothing but kiss, and cuddle.

They were working on boundaries and communication skills from the very start.

They both agreed to keep their relationship under wraps as they worked on becoming close friends first.

Couple crisis(es):

Oh boy! Both Russia and the secretary have had troubling past and neither of which were ever dealt with properly!

There was one time the secretary was trying to figure out how to go about her more, sexual feelings towards Russia since she has moral codes, but after discovering a country can't legally Marry a human (to Russia's knowledge) she was avoiding him on a field trip the allies took to the zoo, for funsies and moral boost!

This enviably turned into him thinking she didn't care anymore and left early to his hotel room. She followed him there.

Upon arrival he tried to act like he wasn't hurt, since she seemingly wanted to explain and that's when things escalated.

He got mad that she was having a rough time telling him what was happening other than "Things have come up and I can't say why but I just needed time to think". After a little bit of back and forth he had enough and tried to ask her to leave.

Especially because now he felt not only betrayed, but lied to. Bad combo.

In return she panicked thinking it was the last time she'd see him again and begged him to let her stay, and they could sleep on the subject, but push came to shove.

He had her up against a chair, hands around her neck and assaulting her with questions of why she was lying, and why she was truly avoiding him.

Then she went silent. Tears formed from her eyes, and as soon as he let her go she ran from him, running into England where he forced her to go to the hospital for the bruising on her neck.

Happy she was able to convince England to not tell anyone, and to trust her, she was now hellbent even more now on talking to Russia.

He wanted to never see her again, but completely forgot about the meeting that took place the next day. His heart sinking as she wore a scarf around her neck, and the glare that England gave him as he walked in with her told Russia he knew as well.

Ironically he also joined her for lunch out of habit. Where she finally was able to tell her that when he had his hands round her neck she didn't see him. She saw her once to be father.

That didn't exactly sit well with Russia either, not until she told him that what had happened was the evidence that neither of them were ready for that kind of relationship, and the person who choked her, didn't feel like him.

She also finally admitted to not knowing how to deal with her desires and was going through a bought of confusion, and apologized for being cowardly over it.

For the next month when Russia went back to his country they hardly talked. It felt like they hit a hard reset on their relationship

Breaking point in the relationship:

There wasn't ever a point in time that they weren't together, just a handful of violent incidents that lead to them To not talking, or hardly talking.

There was three of them. The second one Russia had a relapse with his emotions, and had a meltdown in his home while the secretary was visiting him.

She heard him in his room and was going to ask if he wanted breakfast at home or wanted to go out.

She caught him feverishly clawing at some scars on his neck, blood seeping out, and covering his clothes and sink.

He allowed himself to only be so vulnerable with her, and this wasn't something he ever planned on showing her. In the past he even lied to her and said his scaring flares up and tears due to him being a country (like england when he gets sick around certain American holidays).

He panicked hard as she tried her best to stay calm and help him clean up. Though he appeared willing, he was really just frozen in fear and anxiety. As she started up a tub for him, she offered to clean his wound and he snapped.

He had her by the wrists begging her not to leave, and not to tell anyone, obviously out of it completely.

She tried not to breakdown as well, knowing his outburst would calm down if she just listened. And it almost worked. He had released her and she went to reach out for something past him, and he took it as her trying to escape, so he pulled her, and shoved her to the door to which she fell.

Something in him gave away and he started telling her to just leave and never come back, only when the tub that had over flowed had he realized how he was reacting.

Fully breaking down he cried at the edge of the tub, water now shut off.

She crawled over to him, leaning against the side of the bath, and waited for his sobs to slow down, not caring that her own clothes had soaked up some of the water on the floor.

Once he calmed down, she started to laugh, and when he finally looked at her she explained how much of a a mess they both were. And how insane she must look.

Russia saw the condition her wrists were in after he grabbed her and straight up said he doesn't care if she stays away or even leaves, she needed to get her wrists looked at.

So she called Estonia, behind his back.

Reconciliation:

This would have been the end of the relationship if it wasn't for some eavesdropping from Russia as Estonia checked out her wrists.

Estonia was aware of Russia's agressive nature, but was surprised he had still harmed her, even by accident.

The secretary could do nothing but defend him, and Estonia pointed out that she was being just as toxic as he was by not being honest about what was really going on between them.

She starts to open up about her fear of losing him. How strong her will to stay with him was, and how willing she was to get hurt every once and a while.

She also shared that he wasn't always like that, and the fact he never intended to hurt her, and she could tell he was just out of control, quite literally, was all she needed to stay.

Russia was on the other side of the wall, listening. His heart sinking as he realized the damage he has caused, and the fact she'd be willing to put up with it made him feel better until Estonia pointed out the biggest flaw in their relationship.

She was human. If she was a country she would have been better off, but if he by chance, even by accident, shook her too hard one day... She won't make it long enough to be with him.

That's something that shook them both to the core, and after she forced Estonia to secrecy and he left, Russia came out from his hiding spot.

He looked at her, and she tried her best to keep eye contact, but couldn't.

He sat next to her, all four walls coming down. Now he's cried over his past, and she's consoled him over it rather easily, but that night she couldn't find the strength to, and just let him weep.

It was painful for her to watch as he raised his hand time and time again to try and touch her in some way, asking for silent forgiveness, but she gave him nothing.

Then he said something that surprised her, and even made her give him a double take.

"I- help me..."

She blinked at him, her senses coming back and she clung to him. She was ready to forgive him, but knew full well that if the next step they took he didn't take seriously, she had no choice but to leave.

Estonia had mentioned couples therapy, and Though Russia was extremely skeptical he agreed.

They had to switch therapist at some point because the first one kept pushing the secretary to leave him, not even giving him a chance to recover from his violent tendencies.

It was a fight that took place in the main lobby, where Russia sat. Tears had filled her eyes and he was about to interrupt when he heard her argue her point.

"He's more than capable! That's what pisses me off is people like you who never get to see him when he's at his highest. It was one or two mistakes, but he's just learning!"

Seeing her fight for him unprompted unlike other times before lite a fire in him. Where she wanted to quite the counselor, he egged her back into the idea, and much to their Surprise, after about three months, they were already cleared for the counseling sessions. Even the therapist expressed his surprise in their quick recovery, and commitment.

There hasn't been any further accidents since then, and Russia has learned to at the very least ask for space when he has an urge he needs to shake off, and she has learned how to word things in a way he can anwser without getting overwhelmed, or leaving him to cool down.

I want to share moooreeee but this was so much already! For those who made it this far, thank you for my Ted talk X.X I'm going to pass out now cause sleep, goodnight ♥️

[solalunar-eclipse]

Scars You Can’t See - Chapter 7

Chapter title: Exhaustion

Word count: about 3300 words

Author’s Note: Thank you all for being so patient with me during the months this fic was on hiatus...but thankfully, the wait is over! I hope you all enjoy!

No warnings for this chapter, though it is pretty dark.

First | Previous | Next

...

The team had been working nonstop through the past several days, spending hours upon hours at different libraries throughout Westopolis and the surrounding areas. They never used the same one twice, so they couldn’t be traced. Hopefully.

Loading the full video and an explanation onto the three different USB drives they had bought took up most of that time, since it required a lot of formatting and download time and they couldn’t stay in any one place for too long. Rouge was the most talented with technology from her hacking experience, but slow Internet connections were something even she couldn’t work around.

Shadow really wanted to be a major part of the process, but his struggles with the video itself had posed serious issues for his involvement. While he had eventually been able to view the other part of the film, he’d still had a strong reaction and then needed an hour to decompress afterwards, all while feeling frustrated at (in his words) his “lack of self-control”.

Rouge and Omega were strongly opposed to that wording, since it suggested that his trauma- because it was trauma, despite his arguments- was something that he could control.

In the end, Shadow was often forced to take a backseat during much of the work, or else his mental state would be a mess throughout the rest of the day. He still helped out in any way possible, though, even if it was something as simple as going out to buy food to keep Rouge’s strength up.

Today was the final day. Team Dark was fully prepared to make a post on three of their main social media pages, and all three envelopes with the USB drives inside had been mailed out (under the false cover of being simple job application letters). They were headed to three different media organizations, which- while not necessarily mainstream- were at least somewhat reputable and sympathetic to their current cause.

While it was still unlikely that the general public opinion would change after this information release, there would hopefully be enough supporters for this to mean something.

At exactly 12:00 p.m. on Oceanic Standard Time, ten days after Team Dark had stolen their original files and fled capture by G.U.N., the videos were released out into the world for everyone to see.

At 12:01 p.m., OST, as the team watched from a public computer, the Internet basically exploded.

All three of the team’s accounts were flooded within seconds, ablaze with accusations, conspiracy theories, and more. The best were the expressions of sympathy and support, though. Those boosted the general mood in the room while providing the three with enough bravery to actually write back to a few people.

There were a few particularly vocal supporters who the team members recognized right away… it seemed that the members of Team Sonic had grown tired of sitting around while their friends put their lives on the line and were now channeling all of their frustration into their keyboards. The team’s morale only rose higher. (However, considering the depths they had been in before, this mainly meant that they seemed almost normal again.)

Through it all, G.U.N. remained silent.

The team decided not to stay at the computer for long- the organization was always watching and probably had some of their best hackers on the case already. Shadow grabbed a couple of books before they left, but none of them really even had the energy to read at this point. They’d spent so many late nights going over and over the wording of everything they would say and every move that they would make, and the replies they’d given just now were carefully considered by all three of them as well.

As soon as they made it back to the hotel, Omega whipped out his charging cord and shoved it into an outlet, and Shadow fell face-down onto the bed. “Oh chaos. Oh chaos we’re really in it now, aren’t we.”

Rouge sighed, sinking into a chair and massaging her brow. “Yes, we are. It's worth it, though.”

“I know.” Shadow muttered into the bedspread. “It’s just…” he trailed off, uncertain as to how to express his thoughts.

“...exhausting.” Rouge finished his sentence for him. “It’s tiring to work so hard on something, all the time.”

The hedgehog pointed a gloved finger at her briefly, before letting his hand fall back onto the mattress. “That sums it up perfectly.”

They lay there for awhile, just allowing themselves to rest after the frenzy of the past few days.

Eventually, though, Shadow forced himself to sit up. “So what are we doing next?” he asked, a frown set low over his eyes.

Rouge got to her feet, exhaustion weighing down her movements. “I think we should probably take a couple of days before we do anything else, hon. That was a lot of work.”

“I know,” Shadow said quickly, looking down at the mint-green sheets of the bed. “I didn’t mean to suggest that you weren’t working hard, I just-”

“I didn’t think you were.” she said gently. “I know you want to stop them as soon as possible, and so do I. But...we’re not in any shape to do much like this- being tired always makes people sloppy.”

Rouge smirked faintly. “I learned that one the hard way.” she mused, recalling a particular heist that she’d tried to pull off after going 48 hours without sleep. It had not ended well, to say the least. 

“I’m gonna head down to that restaurant we looked at earlier. I need food.” the bat muttered quietly. Omega gave her a thumbs-up as she walked out the door.

Rouge wandered through the town, looking around. She saw so many different people, all of them going about their ordinary lives, and reminded herself that soon enough, the world would be just a little bit safer for them to enjoy. This raised her spirits, if only slightly. Just enough that she felt like being a little more friendly to the (likely overworked and underpaid) workers in the restaurant than usual.

In fact, she suspected that recently when she had gone out to eat, she’d come off as almost as sulky as Shadow- constant work and paranoia really took it out of a person. Today, though, her work was temporarily finished, and she could take a deep breath with, if not relaxation, then at least a certain amount of freedom.

Rouge got her food quickly, but with a (perhaps a little too) bright smile and a cheerful wave. 

She left a sizable tip in the glass jar out front, all the while trying to ignore a little voice inside her head that whispered you should give that money to others, you won’t be needing it for much longer…

The bat hated trying to imagine just what G.U.N. was capable of, as well as the potential consequences of their actions. That was exactly why she spent the rest of the day relaxing in her room with Shadow and Omega, mostly reading or playing board games with them. As nice as it was to be able to relax and not obsess over sentences and file formats, they all missed being able to go about their ordinary lives, instead of having to control their every move in order to stay alive. She could feel it in the atmosphere of the room. 

Out of nowhere, Rouge felt the sudden fervent hope that Shadow’s motorbike and Omega’s weapons collection would be okay. She had seen the occasional picture of Club Rouge during her time spent working, and it was all cordoned off and dark and sad...she had made a lot of fond memories there. 

Whether or not some of those memories were of kicking particularly irritating patrons to the curb when their behavior went too far was entirely nobody else’s business.

Rouge hoped for another day or two like this before they had to do any more work- they needed it if they were going to succeed. Shadow had dark rings under his eyes and this was Omega’s first day in over a week where he hadn’t gotten a “power low” warning. If they tried to pull off the kind of heist she had in mind like this, they wouldn’t stand a chance.

The next morning, however, it became clear that Team Dark wouldn’t get that kind of luxury until their work was completely finished.

Allowing herself one quick yawn as she strolled downstairs (given that her fangs could appear quite menacing to those without them), Rouge traced a familiar path to the hotel’s breakfast buffet, planning to fill the gaping void that was currently her stomach.

Her shoes clicked across the tiled floor, irritating her tired ears, and the too-bright lights didn’t do anything to help her overworked senses. She seriously considered just going back upstairs and hiding under the covers for another hour or two, but the smell of pancakes and ripe fruit dragged her over to the long table that held the complementary food from the hotel. 

Filling her paper plate, Rouge began to think again about G.U.N. and the various...unsavory tactics she’d seen them use over the years. Often enough, the soldiers in particular were not above frightening or intimidating those groups of people they saw as ‘threats’ while simultaneously politely cooperating with those that didn’t. While she did her best to distance herself from those kinds of people, filing a complaint would only get you a reprimand or even a hint that you might be fired. No real action was ever taken against those who had joined the force to hurt instead of protect.

She had seen, though, that the commander was definitely trying to make the organization a better place- the raid on Space Colony ARK had clearly left an impression- but that didn’t mean he was succeeding. Over fifty years of brutality, violence, machismo and deceit were not so easily rooted out, not even if the person trying to create change was at the very top. The bat had seen a few too many people being beaten mercilessly by a soldier long after they’d shouted their surrender to think that G.U.N. was all good. Indeed, fighting first and asking questions later was ingrained in the very foundation of the organization.

But whenever Rouge’s mind went down these pathways, there was one thought that always rose above the rest…

While she may have seen what they did, Shadow had lived it.

Rouge sighed, trying to control her violent emotions that always appeared regarding that particular event, and took another pancake. The poor hedgehog had dealt with so much already, and now this...she truly felt for him. They were constantly on the run, always trying to stay ahead of the entire military organization, and despite his status as the ‘Ultimate Lifeform’, she knew that he was struggling. Shadow would insist otherwise, of course, trying to carry the world on his shoulders as he so often did.

She knew better, though.

Rouge glanced upwards to get another look out the window, the general paranoia that came with being a spy too deeply ingrained in her body to ever fade. There were plenty of times when it was just a nuisance, if not embarrassing, but right now those reflexes came in handy.

That was when she saw the five G.U.N. agents talking to the receptionist out front.

She took a deep breath, standing very still at the table. Panic would not help her now. Rouge took two very deliberate, very slow steps to the side, obscuring herself behind a helpfully placed tiered food display. 

The bat caught a snippet of conversation. One of the agents was talking to the man at the front desk, asking, “Have you seen someone matching any of these three descriptions?”

The receptionist frowned, leaning in closer to study the photos, and Rouge decided it was about time to get out of there.

She put her plate down slowly, and then walked purposefully but calmly back to the stairs. Once she was sure that they couldn’t see her any longer, she beat her wings and began to fly up the stairwell as quickly as possible.

Once she got into their room, she slammed the door shut, catching Omega’s attention from where he had been constructing a paper-clip chain. Rouge allowed herself two deep breaths before rushing over to the bed and shaking Shadow’s shoulder with surprising gentleness.

“What do you want?” he mumbled, his eyes only half open.

The bat beat down another wave of nostalgia for relaxing weekend mornings (focus, Rouge, your lives depend on it!) and instead gave him a sad smile.

“They’ve found us.” she said, shattering her teammates’ relative peace in an instant.

Shadow practically catapulted himself out of bed. “G.U.N.? What? When?”

“Yes, five agents, and just now.” Rouge said, beginning to pack up their few belongings.

“What shall we do?” Omega asked, an almost staticky tone creeping into his voice. It had the effect of making him sound rather more dangerous than usual, which was probably intentional. “I would be happy to burn this building to the ground. Just say the word,” he said, revving up his flamethrower.

“No burning.” Rouge said, and it was evident just how used to Omega’s antics she was that this statement was delivered in a completely calm tone of voice. “Here’s what I’m thinking. We split up- there’s only so many of them there. We’ll get out of here any way we know how. Meet up at 9:30 outside that waterskiing shop. Got it?”

“Yes.” Omega and Shadow said simultaneously.

“Alright, good. Omega, take the suitcases. Let’s go.”

She threw herself out the window as Shadow teleported the robot down into a nearby alleyway before vanishing again. Her wings folded tightly against her back as she shot down the side of the building, her fingers nearly skimming across the steel and glass. Rouge forced herself to trust in her wings, snapping them out at the absolute last moment before she could hit the ground and hoping that nobody in any of the rooms had seen much more than a red-and-black blur.

She almost laughed to herself- that used to be Shadow.

Laughing wasn’t something any of them did much anymore.

She stalked through a dark alleyway before rushing down a couple of blocks, trying to get as far away from the hotel as she could on foot without being too suspicious. By now, G.U.N. would have realized that the team did not look like they used to, which would make it a lot more difficult to escape their notice.

Rouge spotted Shadow moving quickly several blocks down, and made an immediate left to stay away from him. There was still over an hour until their rendezvous time, and until then it was best to stay away from one another. A hedgehog and a bat together would only draw the organization’s attention. 

Rouge forced her legs to take one step in front of the other- she had to stay moving. The bat was...a little too used to pushing through exhaustion when simple survival was her only goal. Memories of having to hide after heists, constantly walking to nowhere just to stay away from the police surfaced vaguely in the back of her mind. Rouge was still tired from nights of obsessing and writing and rewriting with Shadow and Omega, and this new stressor wasn’t helping at all, forcing her back into the same introspective cloud that always surrounded her whenever important things started happening.

Yet at the same time, she couldn’t bring herself to feel afraid of what could happen should she get captured. It was almost as though she wasn’t truly awake. She was worried for the rest of the team, it was true, but they were all already in such deep trouble that it almost felt as though she’d maxed out on stress.

As she walked, Rouge wanted to feel something more, some sense of a higher purpose to keep her inspired…

...but when it got down to the basics, change wasn’t always glamorous court battles or powerful arguments delivered to roaring crowds. Sometimes you just had to keep pushing and pushing and pushing until finally someone took notice and listened to what you had to say. It was tiny steps, day by day, almost like trying to grind down a mountain with a single stone. Despite being part of the catalyst, she couldn’t see any of the effects from here.

Was anything even changing? Rouge didn’t know.

She shook her head, trying once again to bury these thoughts in the back of her mind. This was just like a mission. Do the task, then think about the bigger picture afterwards.

The bat briefly wondered if this mentality was why the organization had gone downhill before forcing herself to focus. Right now, she needed to use her instincts. That was all.

…

After an hour, during which she had to hide behind a dumpster (in other circumstances, she would have laughed and called it cliche) to evade G.U.N. pursuit, she met up with the other two at the waterskiing store. Thankfully, Omega had managed to acquire a new car- their old one would have to be left back at the hotel and become more collateral damage, as much as they all wished otherwise.

They’d really liked that car.

Rouge and Shadow piled in, and the bat could only feel relief that Omega didn’t really get tired like they did, so at least there was low danger of someone falling asleep at the wheel. 

“We’re in the final stages now,” Rouge said encouragingly, trying to keep up morale. “Just this last heist to get more dirt on G.U.N., and then we’re free to do as we please…”

Shadow sighed. “I hope.”

“Perhaps…” Omega said cautiously, “...G.U.N. will get so busy with lawsuits that they will cease pursuing us after that. Their public image is...somewhat important.”

He didn’t sound like he believed his own words, though.

Rouge, feeling tired, had to practically beat her nagging thoughts off with a stick by this point. What if they never stop, the voice whispered. What if they just keep coming and coming until you give up because you’re just so tired of running-

“Rouge.” Shadow said quietly. “Are you doing the overthinking thing again?”

“What, hon?” she asked, feeling underequipped to have any conversation, let alone one about herself.

“The thing.” Omega called from the front seat. “Where you insist upon shouldering all of the burden simply because you’re the self-appointed team leader. That is not allowed in this car. At all.”

The bat smiled faintly. Even after all this work and exhaustion, they were still worrying about her. That kind of thoughtfulness was enough to relax her a little, and she leaned on Shadow’s shoulder.

“Let’s talk about stupid stuff for a little while.” she said firmly. “We should talk about something like, like- when we went to that one restaurant and Shadow ate like three bowls of their five-alarm chili in twenty minutes and won that T-shirt.”

Shadow smirked briefly. “It didn’t hurt at all and Sonic and Knuckles yelled at me for being a cheater. Having specially bioengineered taste buds has its perks.”

They reminisced about the good times, all three trying to keep the mood light and not discuss the elephant in the room (or car, as it were)- which was of course when they might be able to do that sort of fun thing again.

And then they were on the highway, and headed to what was hopefully the last place G.U.N. would ever expect them to be.

Central City.

[secretive3amramenmaker]

More Fire Force Opinions That Literally Nobody Asked For (pt.2)

Guess who finished the manga~ Guess who finished the manga~ This gal~ I’m surprised that my Fire Force rant/essay meta was so well received by the fandom, thank you guys so much!!! Anyways, today I’ll be discussing some a lot of my ideas, opinions, thoughts, future predictions, and commentary on moments from the Fire Force manga.

Warnings: Spoilers for future Fire Force Season Two arcs, and for the Fire Force manga. Read at your own discretion! Now that the warnings are over, onwards! ヽ(ヅ)ノ

(I’m actually trying to order my opinions via arcs, but I feel that this is really important, so I’m putting it first.) 

1. There are no iPhones in the Fire Force. 

This is so sad? My favourite characters don’t know the joy that is staying up late, scrolling through social media, watching YOUTUBE, having MEMES, KNOWING👏THE👏GREATNESS👏THAT👏IS👏VINES!!!

I’m slightly disappointed that Vulcan, who is literally named after the god of forging himself, who can make frickin’ HOLOGRAMS, didn’t bring back any of the pre-Catalysm technology to recreate, improve, or experiment with. As an expert engineer (I say this 0.2% seriously, with the two years of high school engineering course experience under my belt), I would’ve been interested to see what kind of gadgets Vulcan could whip up. *insert ‘Inspector Gadget theme song*

Please have this very sad Jigglypuff to show how sad this is.

2. Sister Iris and Religion in the Fire Force Storyline

In the beginning of the Fire Force series, I’ve accepted the fact that Iris' role as noncombatant, meant to act as the religious and public face of the Eighth Company. I think it is a fascinating role, because it allows the story to explore the idea of religion and belief in depth, which I was really looking forward to. I was excited how the author would handle Iris’ character, but I’m somewhat disappointed that it took so long for us to see Iris and other side characters like Maki and Tamaki become more fleshed out (I’m not counting Iris’ and Hibana’s backstory in Season 1. I felt that was more backstory to flesh out Hibana’s character rather than Iris’).

Throughout Fire Force’s story, some of the things I looked forward to the most were the religious elements, motifs, themes, and questions that are sprinkled throughout the story, one of my favourites being the portrayal of the dichotomy of religion. In Joker’s backstory, we see the darkness of the Holy Sol faith, and what happens when any religious belief is taken TOO far, without any regard for human life or rights. This idea of viewing humans as a collective, no regard for the individuality and feelings of a single person in the pursuit of faith is embodied by the captain of the Shadow of the Holy Sun, Joker’s former captain and abuser. However, we also get to see the goodness religion and belief can achieve in Iris’ mini arc, which focuses on Iris’ internal struggle as she struggles with her faith after being informed of the Evangelist’s part in the founding of the Holy Sol’s religion. Shinra and Huo Yan Li, the bucket hat 1st Brigade lieutenant (Seriously, which is the correct way to pronounce this guy’s name? Huo Yan Li?? Foien Li???) interaction in the Iris arc really summed up the arc and Iris’ character beautifully. Religion and belief gives people closure, hope, and strength to keep on moving forward. Seeing the anime adaption was an amazing experience. Fire Force’s animation was the reason I decided to watch it in the first place (before staying for the intriguing plot and religious side plot), but this particular episode?? Pure art. The colouring, ambience, storytelling? So good＼\ ٩( ᐛ )و /／

Like, the little detail of the burning nun in Iris’ eyes? (lmao sorry for the extra trauma, sweet child) *chef’s kiss*

The importance of belief is also hinted in the Asakusa arc, where all the district’s inhabitants believe in Benimaru, and expanded upon in later manga chapters, when we learn that Adolla is linked to humanity’s perception and beliefs about the world around them.

I would’ve liked Iris a lot more if we got to further explore her character and the affects of religion on others more deeply, perhaps see Iris visiting the Infernals’ families and loved ones, trying to help give closure through the nation’s (mostly) shared faith in Sol. They mentioned offhandedly in both anime and manga that Iris visits the deceased’s families, and I felt it would’ve given the deaths more significance and depth if we get screentime of how families are affected by the death of their loved ones. It would have also given the Holy Sol’s religion more depth and meaning if we saw believers of Sol’s actions due to their religion, (also giving more impact when we learn surprise surprise! The Holy Sol temple is founded by the Evangelist!) since belief without actions is just lip-service.

I would have also liked to see how Iris’ prayers affect others in the Eighth company. We do get to see this, 140+ CHAPTERS LATER in the mini Iris arc does Shinra (finally) mentions how Iris’ prayers helps him not lose sight of why he serves as a firefighter and kills Infernal. I’m glad that we got this scene, because better later than never, especially since Iris’ and Shinra’s discussion and overall the entire Iris mini arcs shows the power of prayer, but I would’ve like to have this topic discussed sooner.

2. Obi’s Sole Flaw

I think that Obi was an okay character, but they kind of pushed the boundary of his “normalcy” when we saw him topple pillars and rip railways out of the ground with “brute strength”. There are limits to the human body, it is fragile, and it doesn’t matter how much conditioning or “going beyond your limits” you do. People do experience boost of adrenaline, which is probably what the very anime-like titled “Pressure of Death” is based on, since life or death situations can heighten your performance and strength. However, I do understand that this IS shonen, and it isn’t meant to be realistic.

What made Obi’s sole flaw (and a physical flaw, at that!) was his “normalcy” while surrounded by more powerful individuals then he, and having to make up for something he can’t help by working twice as hard as everybody else. Now, although I was disappointed that Obi didn’t have any character/moral flaws, what made Obi’s character mediocre to me wasn’t the choice of Obi’s sole flaw. In fact, I could see how this could be an interesting character narrative IF WE LEARN MORE ABOUT OBI’S BACKSTORY, THEREFORE EXPLORING HIS CHARACTER MORE!!! (We only know Obi was a regular firefighter, being decorated twice, and then having his titles revoked for prioritizing the lives of citizens before becoming the captain of the Eighth.) No, what I didn’t like about Obi’s character is that we never see him STRUGGLE with his flaw, how others were born “superior” to him thanks to there invulnerability to flames, how he lives knowing one day he could just burst into flames. There’s SO many interesting things about Obi’s character, that could explained further, making him so much more interesting!!!

On the other hand, Obi’s character is a great role model for what a “normal” person can do (while jacked up on adrenaline, and when they manage to overcome flight reaction in fight or flight). He works hard, training to the best of his ability, doing what he CAN do, pushing his limits so that he can go above and beyond, overcoming the “Pressure of Death”, and staying true to his ideals, something very hard to do in a world where you might burst into flames at any given moment. I know that if I were to wake in a world where I could die any second (I mean, I could die tomorrow in Real Life™, but what are the chances of that?), I would definitely find myself struggling with my faith, and staying true to the morals I admire and was taught by my parents, especially if I was putting myself in danger despite of this weakness.

3. Asakusa Showdown Arc and Shinmon Hibachi

The Asakusa Showdown arc. Yes. Just yes. I-

It was amazing, periodt. The art, the overall aesthetic, the storytelling. *Cue violent fangirling* I took SOOOO many screenshots of the fight between Benimaru and Hibachi, I’m pretty sure my camera roll is 95% manga caps now. I love how the author actually gave a (fairly) valid reason for the cool Japanese aesthetic of this arc, in that Adolla is slowly gradually colliding with the Fire Force universe, causing people’s perception of the fight to seep into the universe. Overall? It. Was. Amazing. Albeit not my favourite arc, (that honour goes to the mini-Iris arc) I think that the Asakusa Showdown arc is easily in my Top 5 Fire Force arcs.

The Asakusa Showdown Arc mirroring and showing the ideals taught in the Mini Iris Arc was quite clever, though I’m not sure if this was purposefully done Okubo, or if I’m just scrabbling at crumbs.

In the Mini Iris arc, we see how religion and belief gives closure; a stark contrast to Asakusa with its proto-nationalist/atheist values. In THIS arc, centering around Asakusa and it’s proto-nationalist inhabitants, we see what happens when there isn’t enough effort to emphasize or give closure in what happened to Hibachi, and his subsequent death. 

Shinmon Hibachi, as the leader of the neighbourhood fire watch, understood the significance of killing Infernals; of taking somebody’s life. But because of the unwillingness to let others (i.e. the inhabitants of Asakusa, that one kid who stabs him) understand the weight of killing Infernals and gain closure through understanding the reasons behind his harsh actions, Hibachi shoulders the consequences of both his and the actions of his predecessors’ ALONE, therefore leading to his demise. 

The kid who stabbed Hibachi was still a CHILD, and children don’t always have a comprehensive understanding of death and the consequences of responsibility (no matter how much that kid believes he was ready to be an adult and support his mother).

3.5 Extra Worldbuilding Questions About Asakusa

I also have so many questions about Asakusa in general! How is Asakusa powered without being supported by Amaterasu, which is the country’s (and isn’t that mind boggling, that a whole country is supported by one power source with no backup source or other forms of energy/electricity, because of patriotic pride in a machine that might one day shut down, cough manga readers where u at?) I’m assuming that Asakusa mainly use coal, candles, and lamps for energy and lighting, since we did see one example of lighting in Asakusa (an ancient oil lamp), but I’m not sure if that would be sufficient to support a whole district of people. People were able to do that in the olden days, but back then there was a smaller concentration of people, and power necessary to support them.

Is Asakusa a district that is mostly atheist or polytheist? Do the inhabitants believe in no gods, not just the Sun god brought by the White Clads and Raffles I, including the Shinto or Buddhist gods from before the Catalysm, or do they believe in multiple gods/ancestor worship and they just don’t want to worship the Sun God like the rest of the Tokyo Empire because they’re unwilling to accept the new culture, immigrants and religion caused by Amaterasu, wanting to keep up the old Japanese traditions?

4. Arthur Deserves Better Parents 2k20 (Hint of Arthur’s Secret Ability?)

When Team Vulcan + Arthur found Arthur’s parents in the sewers Nether... Honestly, I don’t want to touch on them much, since I want to be (fairly) logical in my opinions on them, not letting my personal feelings twist my hypotheses for what may happen in the future of the Fire Force storyline.

Putting aside Arthur’s parents obvious neglect and bad parenting, I’m curious if Arthur's dad is actually a prophet or did he just get lucky with his delusions. Is this related to how Arthur can notice the difference between dopplegangers and real people? Perhaps because Arthur’s delusions of knighthood are so different from how he truly is (an abandoned child who deluded himself as a knight), therefore allowing him to notice the difference between dopplegangers and Adolla, as they are created by people’s perception of a subject.

5. Let Sho Be a Normal Kid at the End of the Show 2k20

Please let the small child be happy at the end of the manga. I mean, being raised by a cult underground isn’t exactly a Hallmarks childhood. For example, in the beginning of chapter 231, look at how Sho looks longingly at those kids on scooters and was so happy when he got a balloon from the firefighter mascots! (bruh, same balloons bring me so much joy)

I hope that in the end of the manga Okubo lets Sho, Shinra, and Eighth have some quality time. In one of the early arcs (with the first speaking demon, Minamoto?) Shinra saw some kids going to school wearing school uniforms, mentioning that if Sho was still alive, he’d be old enough to go to school. I’d be so sweet if at the end of the manga, Sho would have the chance to go to school, maybe the Fire Force academy (if it’s still running if by the end of the manga they’ve discovered the reason behind Human Combustion), makes friends and beat up anybody who badmouths the Eighth.

6. Cool Combat Medics!

I’d love to see more of the cool combat medics from the Sixth! We only saw the captain, Kayoko Huang, in action with her Asclepius staff pyrokinesis, which, might I add is a fascinating and terrifying ability. Think about it, she’s controlling CELLULAR DIVISION!!! She could start creating tumors in the bodies of her enemies! Could disintegrate people cellularly and no one would know, because fire snake, so no fingerprints!

Anyways, that is all I have right now. Thank you for reading my opinions about “Fire Force”, and for the nice response I got when I published my first opinion piece! Bruh, it took so long for me to edit this... 😔 I’m thinking of doing another meta going more in depth with my theory on Arthur and how he’s able to distinguish the difference between people and their dopplegangers, but that’s for another day. Feel free to discuss about your own ideas or thoughts in the chat, or tell me what you think! I promise I don’t bite. Have a wonderful day!

[barnesandco]

White Feathers and Melting Wax

Bucky’s trigger words are redefined with Sam’s help.

This is an entry for @star-spangled-bingo​ 2020. Word count: 7029. Square filled: “Mutual Pining”

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: Violence, mentions of blood, questionable food preferences (blame Hasan Minhaj), slight language, nightmares, slow burn, fluff that will make your teeth ache, cliche ending.

A/N: This one is dedicated to @searchingforbucky because I saw her post something about how much she loves SamBucky, which gave me an idea for my SSB, and one thing led to another, so long story short, this story is for you, Meg. Thank you for providing an invaluable and unimaginably difficult service to our fanfic community - you’re a real gem. 

It’s Armageddon. Hell on Earth, as if its crust has been made to split open, and all that fury and heat and horror, alongside creatures that nobody could conjure in their worst nightmares, is pouring out. Taking revenging for millenium upon millenium of imprisonment, it is biting and scratching and clawing its way through the best of humanity, bringing out the worst of humanity – the murder, the anger, the rage – in the process. Wakandan skies, once bluer than the surface of Lake Tiorati on a July day, are raining ash and smolder. 

Sam’s arm is bleeding. A particularly agile alien caught the bared portion of his bicep – stupid, stupid, uniform design – and blood drips as he tries to increase his altitude, and find a better angle. Steve notices him from over the shoulder of his own opponent – of course he does, Steve never misses anything – and frowns in a moment of concern that the enemy recuperates in, because Sam is now a more visible target, but he is also good at math. The risk-benefit calculations are telling him that it’s worth it, and the glint of gun-metal fingers he sees in the distance, the owner of which is struggling to cope with half a dozen demons, confirms that.

Barnes is doing the best he can, teeth bared as he attempts to fend them off with a very impressive, but near-empty machine gun and a dagger that’s doing more harm than good. Moments away from defeat, and from an unholy death. His hair is nothing but a second skin sticking to his face and scalp with sweat and monster slobber. Should’ve tied it back, Rapunzel, Sam has time to think before landing in the thick of it. Growls and roars and snarls mix as he manages to join backs with Barnes, both at each other’s six, until nobody can tell which battle cries are animal and which are human. He must be longing for a fight like the one at Leipzig now.

Within minutes, the horde has thinned, but not ended, seemingly infinite in magnitude and strength, and they’re still fighting. The pain from his arm has dulled to an aching throb, lulled into faint numbness by the adrenaline coursing through his veins, and has joined the other innumerable wounds that litter his body. He can hear Barnes’ gun behind him, like bass-boosted fireworks. It’s a square dance – an intuitive one rather than practiced, because he knows his partner as well as he knows what else the cosmos might hold for them - his back against Barnes’ as they parry and spar with each of their individual opponents. A twist and a turn, a lucky, peripheral glimpse at someone trying to blindside the other resulting in as short a tight-lipped nod as they can afford to convey their gratitude.

Sam’s stomach is sinking, he wants to throw up in the face of the evil creature he’s fighting; the scent of ozone an impending warning. They seem to have understood that the winged man and his metal-armed companion are a threat, and a ring of them has coordinated to close in around them. Sam finds a gap in which to press the for emergencies only button on his control panel at the same time as Barnes’ unleashes a series of small grenades in his arm.

The wings leave Sam’s back and turn to lethal blades, spinning like a deadly boomerang around them, and his ears ring when the grenades detonate. In the eye of the storm, Sam and Barnes are safe, but shooting adrenaline-deaf and fear-blind, the battle overcoming their every sense and soul. When the smoke clears, there is a moment of quiet amidst the terror, where sparrow brown meets ice blue, framed by blood spatter, and they quirk the sort of intrinsic, basic, smile at each other that can only emerge from overcoming something inexplicably tremendous as one unit. But then the moment ends.

Barnes shouts – an unintelligible sound of shock - and the sky cracks like an egg.

--- 

Bucky wakes up in an open field, the sky the color of egg yolks, golden, glistening, nourishing. For a moment, he thinks he’s still in Wakanda, the threat miraculously eliminated, but then he gathers enough strength to sit up and note the absence of obsidian skyscrapers in the distance. He can’t evaluate any other landmarks before his eyes lower to the ground he’s lying on and realize that he’s not alone. Scores of bodies litter the grass; his stomach flips and writhes, and he turns onto his hands and knees and heaves up the contents of today’s – is it still today? – breakfast. Closes his eyes to shut in the water that elicits. When he opens his eyes, the vomit is gone.

Moreover, his hands are clean. Not a trace of blood, dirt, and death on the metal or the accents that run across it like tributaries of a golden river, nor on the white skin of his human limbs. In fact, it looks like it’s been scrubbed pink, his epithelium infused with roses. There is no risk of tears now, the surprise so visceral he knows not how to treat it. It doesn’t lessen when something stirs, in the corner of his eye, and he stills the scream in his larynx just long enough to recognize the shape of Sam Wilson, his dark-brown skin shimmering topaz in the sunlight they seem to be laying in. A sigh of relief – intuitive, subconscious - loosens Bucky’s shoulders. He’s not as alone as he might have thought. Sam is confused, too, and he stands up quickly, reaching for a gun that isn’t there. 

Bucky waits, knowing better than to scare him as he reorients himself, and watches as Sam grapples with the black trousers and shirt he finds himself wearing instead of the weapons he’s seeking. Others move, and Bucky – not knowing where this cold peace that fills his lungs is coming from – finds it prudent to speak up now.

“Wilson,” is still all he can say, but it’s enough. That one word, two syllables, six letters – sufficient to erase the taste of rusted blood from his mouth. Sam turns to him as others call for their loved ones, the amber gold of his irises meeting his icy ones. Bucky doesn’t know where he is, he doesn’t know how he got here, he’s so tired dammit, but if this man – this man who has defied law and land for the people he trusts and the values he holds, this man who he knows nothing about besides the fact that he has a moral compass like the North Star – if this man has his six, they can fight their way out. Sam’s eyes and Bucky’s brain tell him that this isn’t heaven or hell or purgatory. They’ve both seen too many prison walls to not recognize more, be they grey concrete, the insides of their own skulls, or a vaulted arch of sunshine above their heads.

---

Clouds have built and gone grey-black, iron heavy, and are preparing to mourn the loss of a good man, but not a single tear escapes Sam’s eyes the day they bury Steve. Old, feeble, fulfilled Steve, that is, who passed on to wherever noble souls go. Bucky couldn’t make himself give the eulogy, so it was, like the mantle of Captain America, passed on to Sam. Sam, who has spent every other day of the past year on the porch of his house with Steve’s wisdom and wit, and knew him better than Bucky who forced himself to make a trip every week.

Bucky, who now stands in front of his tombstone, head bowed and brow furrowed, couldn’t make himself reconcile this Steve with the one he knew. Sam doesn’t fault him that, would never give himself any right to. They’ve all seen some shit, but he can’t bring himself to even touch the tip of the iceberg that weighs on his companion’s shoulders. He’s tied his hair back into a bun at the nape of his neck, chestnut waves tamed to an orderly presentation. Domestic, even. Sam looks behind him and through the graveyard gate at the sound of a car door shutting, as Sharon gets behind the wheel and smiles at him, her own tears long gone, before making her departure.

Intentions to give Bucky his silent farewell are also interrupted by that background sound, and he turns to look at Sam, whose heart leaps to his throat at the sight of him. He’s been seeing him all day, but the veil of public appearance has fallen, and Bucky – Sam reprimands himself for the morbid comparison – now looks like as much of a skeleton above the ground as those under it. He’s pale, eyes not hollow but sad. His hands clench and unclench, reflexively, protectively, drawing Sam’s gaze. Those knuckles must be sore with how tightly the ghost-white skin over them is stretched. Sam’s own hands are in his pockets, and he looks back at Bucky with the warmth of seventeen bonfires.

A desperate attempt, futile in result and heavy in empathy, to ease some of the hurt, the hurricane that Sam is certain is throwing Bucky’s insides around like a rag doll. Bucky’s recovering, he’s better now, he’s working to be alright, and it’s working, but climbing the glaciers of his trauma is a Herculean task. Which, now that Sam thinks about it, can only be accomplished one step at a time, like any other. Ice melts a drop at a time.

“Hey, man, how are you feeling?” He says, approaching him, clasping a hand on his shoulder. To anyone else, the question might seem insensitive – his best friend, or this new version of him – has just been buried, of course he’s not feeling good, but their language is like that. Straightforward. Blunt and no-nonsense, but layered with understanding that has come to be through shared experiences and an emotional connection that speaks more between them than any words they exchange. Bucky turns back towards the tombstone, and Sam, too, looks at the epithet of Steven Grant Rogers, beloved husband, father, and friend. Human, not superhuman, in the end, the way they all want to be. They way they long to be acknowledged as.

“I’ll be alright, Sam. Just a little confused,” he answers eventually, after a long-suffering sigh. Sam is relieved, because the hope in Bucky’s voice is the best he could want to hear. And the fact that even now, when articulating what he feels must be the hardest thing in the world, he still manages to, as honestly as he can. Honesty is the beacon Sam’s heart searches for, and he’s found it here. It’s incomplete sometimes, and offered in brief words because Bucky isn’t always fond of sharing, but it’s always the truth.

“Me, too. Me. Too.” Sam nods in agreement, thinking of the muddle of thoughts and prayers and desires in his mind, as the first drop of rain falls from a steely sky, washing away old wounds, cleansing their skins for new ones.

---

The mass of blue-black ink that is the night sky is the first witness when Bucky starts writhing under his sheets.

He’s stuck in the cold. Not the glass walls of the cryochamber he knows so intimately, no, he’s buried in snow up to his neck. The unending scene of the icy mountainside stretches out before him, like a postcard from a nightmare, and he can’t move. Tries to wiggle his toes, and the snow bites and nips at his feet. Hands are frozen to his sides, and the panic starts to claw at his chest. Icicles seem to have wedged their way between his ribs, and pain sears through his abdomen.

He screams. An echo. He screams louder, hot tears turning to ice halfway down his cheeks. He screa-

Eyes the color of the first hour of daybreak appear inches from his sweat-stained and misery-sodden face, and he sits up, almost hitting Sam’s head with his own. His breathing is broken, every inhale cuts at the inside of his lungs, and every exhale tears at his trachea. Sam, trying to fix that, takes Bucky’s clammy hand in his calloused, safe one, places it over his chest.

“Breathe with me, c’mon,” he urges in a midnight rasp, exaggerates his breaths, and Bucky follows the movements he is making. Follows the way Sam’s bare chest, dusted silver by moonlight, rises to accommodate the air he takes in. Follows Sam’s eyes, the silent plea they convey to do as he does, holding that breath. Follows the release, pretends that he can hear the breath traverse his trachea, and exit his lips as his mouth parts to release it. Bucky’s calmer now, eyes fixated on how Sam’s tongue peeks out to lick his lips, the lush pillows of light brown now shining wet. It’s only when they start moving that Bucky’s gaze returns to Sam’s eyes, and his words reach his ears.

“You haven’t had one that bad in ages.” It’s a fact. A statement, an accurate observation, but because few serious words ever go wasted between them, it is also an open assertion. An invitation for Bucky to say more, with the option to nod and agree left on the table.

“Yeah, it was. I’ll be alright, though, Sammy. Thanks,” he responds, and Sam nods warily. Sits back on his haunches, knees digging into the mattress.

“Good. Do you, uh…” He scratches the back of his head. “Do you want me to stay?” He asks, and Bucky is suddenly, keenly aware of how close they are. He swings his legs over the edge and stands on shaky knees, hiding the blush that originated from fear and adrenaline and has been maintained by something he can’t name or explain. A nervous laugh as he makes his way to his dresser and pulls out a fresh pair of sweats.

“No, no, I’m going running. There’s no way I’ll fall asleep right now, and it’s almost dawn anyway.” Bucky waits in front of his bathroom door. Hears Sam get up and make for the door.

“Alright, Bucky. I’d go with you-“

“You pulled that muscle yesterday, yeah. It’s okay, don’t worry about me,” Bucky says, and when the door shuts behind Sam, rushes to the bathroom to wash off the watercolor that interaction painted across his cheeks. Gripping the granite vanity with both hands, he watches it drip off, eyes radiating a bewildering plethora of emotions. Hears the nightingale depart from his bedroom windowsill, and fly off into the night.

---

It’s a beautiful morning, punctuated by the dot of the golden, glowing Sun in the distance, but Sam doesn’t have it in him to appreciate the first sunshine after a spell of rain. Sam is disgusted. Horrified, mortified, petrified by this new development. He didn’t think the former Winter Soldier could get any scarier when he wanted to be, but he has grossly underestimated the cruel ways of his best friend. Anyone without a direct line of sight into the cereal bowl in front of Bucky would not know what he’s so upset about. But Sam, standing at the stove on the kitchen island across from Bucky, watches in horror as the latter lifts a spoonful of dry-as-the-Sahara-desert Froot Loops to his mouth, chews, and then takes a sip from a glass of milk.

To say that Sam regrets introducing Bucky to sweet breakfast cereals in an effort to sate his incurable sweet tooth is a severe understatement. When Bucky had disapprovingly forced down soggy, sweet Froot Loops the morning before, and grumbled about the disgusting experience for the rest of the day, Sam did not think that this would be the solution. He thought he’d be forced to finish off the rest of the box, and dreaded the toothache that would follow.

“I’m eating it like this, or not at all.” Bucky finally addresses the outrage written all over Sam.

“I think I prefer not at all,” he says gravely, his tone out of sync with the cheery scent of sunny-side-up eggs that his words waft across to reach Bucky.

“Too late, I love these,” Bucky says through another mouthful of dry cereal. He’s intentionally pushing as many buttons as he can at one time, a master at multitasking his way to maximum irritation. Sam shudders. Puts his eggs on a plate and goes to sit down next to Bucky at the island, one stool between them. Saturday mornings after a good night and a better workout are a good look on Bucky, as much as he hates to admit it.

Aureate beams of bubbling sunlight illuminate his side profile, his cheekbones glowing rose-gold and light dispersing through a bead of water that slides down his temple. All of a sudden, Sam isn’t hungry anymore. The last bite of his first egg feels like clay in his mouth, and he empties his glass of water in one go. Bucky looks up from his almost-empty bowl – thank God it’s almost over -  and looks at Sam with concern. It takes all of Sam’s power, and then some, to tear his eyes away from Bucky’s teeth biting into his pink lower lip, and up to his blue eyes.

“You okay, man?” He asks, and Sam nods.

“It’s nothing, just got lost in thought,” he answers, and he’s being truthful. Doesn’t know what came over him, just that the slow surveillance of Bucky’s features led him down a different path than it usually does. They’ve always watched each other cautiously, know each other’s movements with the kind of precision that makes you wonder if the haven’t known each other for centuries rather than years, a couple of which were spent in animosity. Bucky’s eyes flit between his again, and they find nothing to prod at further, so he returns to his cereal.

Sam hurries to finish his breakfast and clean up after himself, before heading back to his room with a half-coherent excuse and a heat in his cheeks too hot to be caused by morning sunshine. Thanks God for melanin and for intimate knowledge of the super-soldier hearing range on his way down to the garage.

The rumble of the car’s engine is a relief, and the first breath he takes off the premises of the compound even more so. A little guilt nibbles at him, but it would’ve eaten him alive if he didn’t know that Bucky intended to work on the plans for the library today, and so he keeps driving.

Sam isn’t stupid. That furnace warmth, the magnetic way Bucky’s being drew his gaze, it’s unmistakable. In his sound head and solid heart, he knows what it is. And that’s why his heart is beating so fast, why it won’t take a goddamn break around those blue eyes and sunny smile. Sam is too self aware to be too stupid, too blind to his feelings. He’s just nervous. A cup of coffee from his favorite place downtown won’t do much to settle, but it will give him room. And he needs room. 

Because Sam has never done this before. Never acted on feelings for someone who he can’t afford to lose. Maybe, the risk-benefit balance is not tipping in his favor. However, he can’t say for sure, if he knows what result is in his favor anymore. Is the torment of this schoolboy crush worth not risking his friendship?

Sam exhales through his teeth, and looks out the window. Decides to go flying when he gets back in order to clear his head. Maybe that canopy made from blue satin holds the answers.

---

Birds are chirping on the balcony railing, their silky brown bodies picturesquely contrasting against the cottony blue sky behind them. Pretty enough to frame, and Bucky commits another scene to memory that he might want to paint some day. Closes his belt buckle and then picks up the brush but does a double take at the reflection that looks back at him from the dressing table mirror.

He looks healthier than he has in years, but that’s not what’s remarkable. No, it’s the length of his hair. The brown waves reach his collarbones, and he runs his hand through it with a huff, putting down the brush and leaving his room. Sam’s in the living room, and he can hear Earth, Wind, and Fire playing from down the hall. He enters the room to see Sam lounging on the sofa with a laptop in his hand.

“Hey, Sammy, you busy?” He asks, walking up to him. Sam looks up, turns the music down.

“No. Why, what’s up?” He says, placing the laptop down next to him, and Bucky sees that he was online shopping for clothes. 

“I need you to cut my hair,” he tells him, sitting down on the sofa. Sam blinks. Once, twice, thrice. His face splits in a toothy grin of agreement, and it disarms Bucky so much that he forgets completely to be angry at the smug look on his face.

“Not that I wouldn’t love to ruin your hair, Rapunzel, but are you sure you don’t wanna go to a barber?”

“Yes. You do it.” Bucky nods assuredly, willfully ignoring the nickname, relieved to be rid of it soon, too, but hoping that Sam will know, unspoken, what he is trying to say. He’s gotten better around people, around strangers, but he doesn’t trust them. Not with sharp objects, and especially not with handling sharp objects in such proximity to him. And there’s a part of him, perhaps the old romantic, the one who is just a little on the sentimental side, that prefers for such a change – small though it may seem, it speaks magnitudes to someone who craves stability now – to be made by the person he is closest to. So Bucky is grateful, when that person, Sam, agrees, with a nod back.

Fifteen minutes sees them in Bucky’s bathroom, him sitting on a stool in front of the vanity, a towel over his shoulders, and Sam behind him with scissors. He lifts the spray bottle from the counter with his free hand and spritzes Bucky’s hair. It’s cold, refreshing, and gentle stray drops land on his face. Bucky’s hands are clenching around his knees, red fingerprints growing darker on the skin just below where his shorts end. It took him two summers to feel comfortable enough to wear those. Sam has a matching pair.

He raises the scissors to the side of Bucky’s head, just by his right ear, opens them, and then pauses. Moves to the back instead, raises the scissors, stops again. A heavy sigh ruffles Bucky’s hair, and he looks at Sam’s reflection. He looks back.

“I don’t know where to start, man. I have no clue what to do with this,” Sam says, exasperated already, gesturing towards Bucky’s head with one hand and almost running the other over his own head before remembering the scissors he still holds in it. Bucky doesn’t say anything, but throws him a look up and over his shoulder that seems to say You think I do?

Shaking his head, Sam starts again. Bucky closes his eyes, his body hairs standing on edge as the scissors start clipping. A coarse, large, warm hand rests on the back of his neck to steady his head, the point of contact burning.

“I think it’s short enough to use the machine,” he whispers, as if conveying a holy secret. He turns on the clippers and soon, the buzzing sound fills the room. Bucky doesn’t reopen his eyes, lets Sam trim the edges short on the sides and back, and keep it a little longer on the top, as per their pre-determined plan of action.

He starts running his fingers across Bucky’s scalp as he’s finishing up and making the final touches, and every nerve ending of his lights up. When Sam announces that he’s done, and Bucky’s lungs collapse and then swell like balloons at the sight of his new appearance, and his eyes meet Sam’s, the world stops.

They’re inches apart, once again. Eye to eye, nose to nose. Heart to beating, fluttering heart. Thank you’s are glued to his tongue and his tongue is paralyzed in his mouth, his mouth dry and wanting. He counts nine heartbeats, and begins to lean in on the tenth, but the eleventh brings the obnoxiously loud sound of his phone ringing from the bedroom, and the bubble bursts.

Bucky answers Peter’s call with less concern than he usually does, the affection and mentorship for the teenager overshadowed by the almost-moment. The one that makes him want to scream into the New York skyline.

---

Flaming red hair reaches as far as Sam’s eyes are concerned, accentuated by the backdrop of the setting sun, an unusual hour for sparring, but a crucial one today. Nat is visiting from the European headquarters in Budapest, where she is SHIELD’s head of the region. It’s a calmer job, safer than Avengers duty, but she works herself to the bone and lets out her frustration in the gun range or the sparring mat, with the latter making for better quality time with her teammate today. Not that Sam’s much for competition right now, and she doesn’t mince moves or waste time. He puts up as much of a fight as he can, but she has him on the ground in fifteen minutes. A new record.

She helps him up and he passes her her water bottle in return as the sit on the mat. Her outstretched legs prod at his knees.

“You were off your game, Wilson,” she says, as if he doesn’t already know. As if he doesn’t know he was too busy counting days since Bucky’s haircut to counter her moves. It’s been twelve, and every hour exponentially increases the tangible awkwardness between them.

“Distracted.” Sam shrugs truthfully. Nat’s laugh isn’t cruel or taunting, but teasing and friendly, a lightweight windchime.

“Yeah, I can tell. Want to tell me why?” She asks, with another sip from her bottle.

“Like you don’t already know,” he mutters, narrowing his eyes. Tilting her head, she looks at him like a curious robin. Like she’s trying to pluck out the secrets like wildflowers in his head.

“I just know it has something to do with Barnes. You can hardly look at each other.” She says, giving him her hand to take off the boxing tape, and he picks at the edge it’s bound at. Tries to ignore the piercing stare she’s focusing on his head.

Once the tape is off, he tries to drink from his bottle again. His throat is parched, and he doesn’t think it has much to do with the exercise any longer. Natasha’s stare turns to a glare, but eventually, she seems to relent, trying at another joke.

“What, did you kiss him?” She murmurs, reaching for her bottle. Sam sputters, water going in his windpipe, and Nat’s eyes widen as she watches him cough and cough and cough. “Are you serious? Oh my God, Sam, did you really?”

“No, no, no, shit, no. That’s crazy, Nat,” he says, standing and starting to powerwalk to the showers but Nat follows quickly, light on her feet and heavy with her questions.

“Then what was that for?” Nat asks, pointing towards the mat where he just had that undue coughing fit. Shit. Keep digging your own grave, Wilson, keep digging.

“Nothing, nothing, it’s fine,” he says, and she quirks an eyebrow. Crosses her arms. He’s known Nat for too long and too well to not be entirely aware that talking to her is for his best. And Sam is a lot of things, but he isn’t stupid. He follows her back to the mat like a lost puppy, and consoles himself with the fact that he’s reduced a master assassin to near-gossip.

“Well?”

So he tells her. Sam picks at the mat with bitten fingernails as he relays the tale of the five years of pragmatic planning and professionalism under imprisonment in the Soul Stone, during which they talked little but shop and pretended not to see the fear in each other.

Sam avoids Nat’s emerald gaze while he tells her about the first year as Captain America, with the weight of the mantle so heavy that Bucky became the crutch he leaned on, a super-soldier it took everything to put back into the world.

Sam closes his eyes when he recalls Steve’s funeral, and the instant he decided that Bucky Barnes wasn’t just a miracle, he was one of the most beautiful people Sam had ever met.

Sam watches the punching bags sway while talking about the warmth that spreads like bushfire whenever Bucky is near, but also about how he is at his coolest and calmest next to him, because he gets him.

Sam sees the sky transition from peach to indigo telling Nat about the moment in the bathroom, where that emotional connection almost manifested itself physically, and how those feelings that he thought were benign became dangerous, boiling under the surface, and how he doesn’t know whether to bury them, or set them free.

---

Icarus. The legend of Icarus and his melting wings, his broken body drowning is the first thing to enter Bucky's mind as the quinjet lands on the helicarrier and Sam is wheeled out on a stretcher and rushed to Dr. Cho's cradle. A trail of blood follows, dripping slowly despite the medics' attentions, and that's what seals Bucky's trance. He doesn't have answers for Hill or Fury - it's a morbid game of Hansel and Gretel, right up to the entrance of the medical wing.

The sterile whites and greys, alongside the vague hum or nurses barring his entry into the trauma bay and Fury's raging demands for answers are secondary sensations. Lost behind the veil. He has to watch through the glass as Sam is put in the cradle, but there’s so much blood. The Director and Assistant Director talk calmly now, suggesting that Bucky get his own wounds checked, but he is blind to their concerns, so they give him the space they see he needs.

It takes an hour to heal Sam. A torturous, unending hour, that has Bucky pacing across the floor, smearing blood and mud across pristine tiles, his mind humming so loud he can’t hear himself think. When it’s over, he has just enough presence to follow Sam’s unconscious body as it’s wheeled to a recovery room, where he sits at his bedside.

However, he doesn’t stay seated for long. Can’t look at his friend’s wounded form, helpless and undoubtedly in screaming pain, although he may not feel it. His body does, and he will feel it when he’s awake. Bucky stands and moves to look out the window. Absently, he scrapes at the clots of blood drying under his nails and in between the panels of his other arm. Part of him recalls the term dissociation, used by his SHIELD appointed psychiatrist, and the consequent recovery techniques. An alert corner of his subconscious is grateful that these episodes aren't as frequent any more. Or as debilitating, most of the time. Just… distracting, with the fog that pierces his ears and diffuses inside his skull until he's numb. Weightless. Recovery techniques. Right. Touch, taste, smell, sound, sight. Glass and metal, blood and sand, jet fuel, whirring engines; open, open, sky.

Bucky likes the sky. Likes to watch clouds form, transform into something new, drift onwards to a better place. A better view than he must present. The infinite stretch of blue. Sometimes, he paints his own clouds on the sky in his mind's eye, but right now that canvas is dripping red - fists clench tight above his thighs - dripping red, white, and blue, Sam is dripping red, white, and blue, and he's falling, Icarus to the ocean.

Falling, falling, falling.

Oh. 

Bucky jerks upright. Shakes his head, wipes a blood stained strand of hair back. Forces air into his lungs - it's thinner up here, colder, too, so he has to focus, feel the bite, good - and then: clarity.

He remembers where he is, the smoothness of tiles under his feet, the sweat sodden uniform sticking to his skin, the physicalities of his position return, as does the feel of his beating heart. But there's something new in the way it hammers against his ribs. Something gentler, that prompts a flutter of intrigue, until he realizes what it is, until he can name the newborn emotion screaming to be heard inside his heart. 

Hot forehead against cold glass. Hot tears on hotter cheeks. Bucky lets them fall as he tries to face the sky again.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” he tells the clouds. Not because he doesn’t want to be in love, or because he is love with a man instead of a woman, or because said man is Sam Wilson, but because it’s just so inconvenient. Because there is no happiness to be found in lives like these, and because it is an impossibility that a man with a heart as pristine a golden could want one with bruises and stains that stretch across every inch of skin. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

And he swears he can hear his Ma answer from the sky: Why of course, you didn’t, my baby boy. No one ever does. Doesn’t mean it isn’t right, or meant to be so. The universe has a way with these things. Knows how to put people together, just like a starling knows to hide her nest from crows. It’s nature, James.

Nobody’s called him James since Winnifred Barnes. Nobody ever will. But “Bucky” doesn’t sound so bad coming from Sam’s voice. Returning to his bedside and slumping into the chair, Bucky hopes he’ll only live long enough to tell him so.

Bucky, post-war, post-Winter Soldier, doesn’t know all that much about fate or the universe, nor does he know a thing about love, but he knows homecoming.  And Sam, his eyelashes delicate against skin like gold poured over tourmaline, is home.

All resistance leaves Bucky with a muted sigh. It’s like he can feel the adrenaline, the fight-or-flight, both physical and emotional, evaporate when he takes in the expression of calm that has washed over Sam’s features. He takes half a dozen deep, deep breaths. Allows the oxygen to cleanse him from the inside out, and now, he has enough presence of mind to feel the exhaustion entering his bones. Aside from the scrape on his cheek, none of the blood on his being is his own. He should clean up, he knows that, but he thinks he’ll throw up if he tries to stand up again, so he breathes instead. Breathes in the fact that Sam is alive like he needs that statement to live. So that he doesn’t forget it, and wake up screaming - wouldn’t be the first time - he imprints it into his memory.

Only then do his shoulders stop guarding his neck, relaxing and hitting the back of the chair he’s sat on. The air conditioner whirrs on, and Sam’s breaths are puffs of cotton in the air, that if Bucky focuses enough on, he can envision as clouds. Clouds that turn to sheep, sheep that he counts, and it doesn’t take many of them before he is fast asleep.

---

The day Happy and May get married, Sam almost asks Bucky for a dance, under a starlit sky that twinkles like fairy lights. The months since his injury have been better than those before, contrasting a new smile, and a lighter face, against the tangible sense of will-we-won’t-we. They’re still tense, still have moments where they can’t read each other, still almost talk about it, but their companionship has returned.

This is obvious in the grin Bucky throws him with a roll of his eyes over Nat’s shoulder, as Sam twirls May around like he’s trying to make her nauseous. The poor bride tolerates his hijinks for all of one song before politely excusing herself, as does Nat, pretending that Bucky hasn’t gotten better at dancing again after practicing for months on end. She throws Sam a wink as she leaves the dance floor, and Sam swallows before turning tail and going to get a drink, leaving Bucky to find another dance partner. He quells a bubble of his own nausea as a wonderful girl – Annie something, from May’s work – tries to ask for a dance. To his surprise, Bucky refuses, and then Sam feels guilty for the cheer that goes up in him.

It’s short-lasting, overwhelmed once again by the anxiety that comes with interacting with Bucky. Sometimes, he thinks he sees roses bloom under Bucky’s footstep, the scent of him so alluring. At others, like now, the weight of his gaze is so heavy, he thinks he should drown under it if he doesn’t release the secret in his chest. If he doesn’t tell Bucky that he remembers waking up in that hellicarrier holding an asleep Bucky’s hand, with an asleep Bucky’s lips pressed to the back of his own. And that he liked it.

“It’s a nice party,” he says, tipping back the champagne flute in his hand. He can’t get drunk, and it takes large sips for him to even feel the spark in his throat, the movement exposing a stretch of slender, soft skin. It’s a matter of milliseconds, barely one breath, but Sam’s mouth is dry, useless but for a nod of agreement with a survey of the hall. Nat is wiggling her eyebrows at him from across the dance floor, and Bucky has to repeat his name twice to regain his attention, something that he immediately loses to the color of Bucky’s eyes upon turning towards him.  He breaks eye contact and looks away again with another nod.

“Yeah, yeah, it was a great day. I’m really happy for those two,” Sam says honestly, gesturing towards the bride and groom, who are chatting away with Pepper.

“So you’re happy for Happy?” Bucky murmurs and Sam snorts, downing his glass, and shaking his head.

“Ha ha ha, what are you, twelve?”

“You may have to check my birth certificate to find out,” he deadpans, and Sam pinches the bridge of his nose as Bucky cackles. He glares at him, but soon, the corner of Bucky’s eyes crinkling while the sound of his laughter echoes comes into alarming focus against May and Happy swaying in the background, and Sam doesn’t need to wonder what it’s like to feel so much joy and such magnanimous love from someone that you decide to bind yourself to them forever. In fact, Sam decided a long time ago that Bucky was the one person he couldn’t live without any longer. The only difference now is that the emotions that went into that definition have changed. The twinkling sky winks down at him, as if to reaffirm that that realization is correct, and to tell him that he’s on the right path.

---

The city of New York stretches out through the window before them, buildings piercing the dusk that is settling above, and Bucky and Sam sit against the freshly dried paint in the living room of Bucky’s childhood home. It has taken four years after the Blip, four years of newfound stability, of recovery and building up and breaking down and defining his life for his own, to come back to what his life used to be. He thought it only fitting that the man who played the most invaluable part in helping him to his feet be with him at the most magnificent landmark of his progress, of his new life.

The building had, wondrously, been the same one, in that it hadn’t been demolished and rebuilt, only thoroughly renovated. Bucky had bought it several months ago, and Sam had instantly been enraptured by the idea of rebuilding this apartment. Only the furniture remains now, the empty rooms freshly painted and smelling of paint and paper, sawdust and sandalwood and sweat. Bucky looks over at Sam as he closes his eyes, and watches the sunset light his skin like honey on dark silk. Glimmering, glowing.

It hits him like a freight car. The notion that even though his life has been longer than most, it is too short to abandon what you love. Bucky is scared. He’s been scared his whole life. He was scared to go to war that first time, he was scared for his life when he was captured, he was scared for Steve when he went after Hydra, he was scared when he became Hydra, he was scared. And angry. And he doesn’t want to be any longer, even if the alternative is regret and shame. Those would still be new emotions.

That’s what has him turning to Sam, the rustle of his jeans alerting him so he opens his eyes. A question swimming in their content depths. Bucky answers it.

“I love you, Sam,” he says, heart in his throat. Sam gulps, like there’s something he wants to say but doesn’t know how to, that there are words lodged in his throat that he longs to set free, and Bucky tells him he knows what they are already. Doesn’t need the words spoken, now or ever, when they’re so visible in how Sam can do nothing but lift his hands and cups his face in them. The I love you, too, is folded like a hidden love note between their lips, passed to Bucky when they meet, and Sam moves his mouth like flower petals over glass. Bucky kisses back. He kisses back harder, tilts his head so they’re like puzzle pieces, his heartbeat taking flight. When they stop, the sky is as pink as roses, the gold accent wall behind them is smoldering, glowering with light. Their foreheads rest against each other’s, Bucky’s hand rests over Sam’s to hold him there, and they fit together like the stars fit in the sky.

Taglist: @suz-123​ @mermaidxatxheart​ @buckyreaderrecs​ @shield-agent78​ @corneliabarnes​ @readerandcinephileingeneral​ @stevieboyharrington​ @notsomellowmushroom​ @veganfangirl5​ @mood-pancakes​ @lbuck121​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @geeksareunique​ @murdermornings​

[medea10]

My Review of Zombieland Saga REVENGE

Yes, Franchouchou has come back after a two and a half year hiatus.

HISTORY: Zombieland Saga is an idol show.

I have already cut my readership in half with that one sentence alone. But this is no ordinary idol show! A maniacal necromancer named Kotarou Tatsumi brings seven girls back from the dead. A former idol from the 1980’s (Junko), a former idol from the 2010’s (Ai), a child star from the 2010’s (Lily), a girl with idol aspirations from 2008 (Sakura), a former biker gang chick from 1997 (Saki), a courtesan from the 19th century (Yugiri), and Yamada Tae! There’s no describing what exactly Yamada Tae is but we don’t question it as she’s best girl.

Kotarou brought these seven girls back to life in order to save the Saga area and revitalize it. Throughout the first 12 episodes, we watch these girls get the hang of being alive again after so long and become an idol group. With Kotarou’s make-up skills, he’s able to fool nearly everybody that these girls are living, breathing idols. Almost everybody! At the end of the series, we get one guy who caught on about Lily, Ai, and Junko. But enough about that! Let’s see how successful Franchouchou has gotten since we last left the series.

REVENGE: So this sequel begins with the girls doing odd-jobs trying to earn as much money as they possibly can. Normally, the girls would do odd gigs that Kotarou was able to conjure up and that’s been good publicity for their group Franchouchou. However, they came into some money problems when they gambled and lost. It’s no doubt that their performance in the 12th episode was a banger and gave Franchouchou a boost in the idol scene. However, they aimed too high by renting out a big amphitheater to have a concert and only 1.6% capacity was filled. So the performance that night was a crash and burn type of thing. The after-effect put the girls in the hole (money wise) and Kotarou spends his days getting drunk at bars.

Seriously, look at this guy! He looks like a drunk, fourth season Eren Yeager. Kinda hard watching Kotarou looking so sad, pathetic, and drunk! It wasn’t until the girls had to perform at a metal concert arena that Kotarou got a kick in the pants. The fool arrives to the performance hella late, screaming for an encore when the audience is totally not vibing for one. And the girls end up singing while the audience goes in (for a lack of a better term) a Blues Brothers style rumble. The important thing is that Kotarou is feeling better and is ready to send his little zombie songbirds out to save the Saga prefecture.

Throughout the season, we follow the girls of Franchouchou as they regain some popularity they obtained last season. Will they do it? In the first 4 episodes, the group gained their own radio show and Ai’s old group (before she died) Iron Frill considered them as rivals. I think they’ll be okay!

BUT WAIT…: What about that photographer fella we saw all last season? He was quickly catching onto Ai, Junko, and Lily looking a little too close in resemblance to the girls that died years ago. Slowly throughout the series, we see him get closer to the truth.

NEW IDOL?: Oh God, did Kotarou commit taboo once again by bringing another girl back from the dead?

No…It was sadly much worse.

While at a public bathhouse, a girl (not wearing her prescription glasses) entered the men’s side, slipped on some soap, and was knocked unconscious. Thinking she died, Kotarou brings her body back to the girls (who aren’t wearing their makeup) saying this girl will be #7 in Franchouchou. And just like I said, she is not dead and now she knows that the idol group she loves are dancing zombies.

Kotarou is truly fucking up royally this season.

Anyways, this is Maimai! She’s a fan of Franchouchou and ends up becoming a temporary member of the group as #7 (for the episode). And, she’s voiced by Kana Hanazawa! If you don’t know who she is by now, blow me. It’s a little scary knowing that there’s one person out there that knows about the secret. But Maimai is much too loyal a fan to ruin something for everyone and is totally chill about her favorite idol group really being zombies.

THE TWO UNSOLVED MYSTERIES: As much as many of us loved the first season to Zombieland Saga, there were two characters we wished got more play and we knew a little more about. Yugiri and Yamada Tae! Tae-chan has been the enigmatic idol from day one. And due to her possible mental disability, we might never know. However, in one episode we do see her stopping off at a cemetary and I do believe that was her own grave.

As for Yugiri, even the detective can’t dig up info on her. She was around in the late 1800s or the Meiji era and there’s only one known photo in existence of Yugiri before her death. This season, we got a two-episode saga to bring us the good word on Saga and its importance. We got a bit of a history lesson about the Saga prefecture during the Meiji era and even what it was like before then. And yes, we did learn how Yugiri died and her connection to Saga. It was quite sad, but definitely one of the best episodes of the series.

BEST SONG: Didn’t think I’d have one for this franchise.

Saga Jihen from episode 9.

Nuff said.

ENDING: Well, we learned some extra details on what happened during the fall and rise of Franchouchou. This mostly has to do with Kotarou’s gamble with booking a huge arena for the girls to perform in. First of all, this arena was the place of Ai’s death. You member! When she was electrocuted right there on stage! Second of all, they didn’t sell the tickets until the day of the concert. What was that end result again? 1.6% capacity filled! Even in Covid-19 times, that’s fucking small. Granted, the audience was full of those memorable fans from season one including Saki’s friend’s daughter, Lily’s father, and the two metal jackasses. But still, not a good! The girls hit a brick wall and felt embarrassed. This was the worst moment for these girls (aside from dying once). After the disasterous event, they were millions of yen in debt, they’re running out of essentials for the house, and Kotarou has gone on a two-month drinking binge. It was then that they decided to do makeup themselves and go out in the world to earn a living and eventually pay off the debt.

Thankfully, they were able to get out of debt and regained their popularity throughout Saga and further. Saki has managed to get a radio show. Iron Frill (Ai’s old group) sees Franchouchou as a worthy rival. Lily gained a lot of fame in a televised competition. So what’s next? Kotarou apologized to Franchouchou for his big mistake the previous year and him spiraling out of control. Seconds later, he announces that their revenge will be to perform at the very same arena that fucked up their career the year prior.

Boy, you do NOT learn your lesson, do you?!

More trouble is on the rise as that reporter who caught on about the girls being zombies has confronted Kotarou. We finally circled back to the final scene from season one. This guy has caught on to the fact that the girls of Franchouchou resemble girls that died. The only one that he couldn’t dig up dirt on was Yugiri. Possibly because the only known evidence for existence is a photo at the bar! What’s more, he has a sneaking suspicion that the girls of Franchouchou are all zombies. In a prior episode, the reporter snapped a picture at the right time exposing Yamada Tae’s head rolling around on the ground. Dude is ready to go public with the story of the girls of Franchouchou being zombies resurrected from the dead unless Kotarou pulls the plug on everything. Kotarou simply said that the girls will get their revenge and will perform at the arena.

And then…a storm hit Saga!

There was a lot of damage around town. And worst off was Kotarou’s place, as it was ripped from its foundation, thrown into the sea, and crumbled into nothing after coming ashore. Worst of all, the special makeup the girls use to hide their zombie state was in that wreckage. Meanwhile, Kotarou spent several days trapped in a bar with the bar owner and nearly drowned. The girls ended up in a safety shelter with nearly the entire Saga prefecture. The good thing is because they’re town celebrities that they were given a top floor to themselves for privacy. The bad thing is that they’ve been here for days and their makeup is starting to come off, exposing zombies. And to make matters worse, that nosy reporter who knows the girls are zombies is also staying at the shelter (though the girls don’t know he knows). The girls decided to use Junko’s doll-crafting paintset to make masks to hide behind. That lasted only five seconds while trying to entertain the children of the shelter.

This is it. The girls are exposed as zombies.

Actually, the kids and parents thought this was part of the act and thought Franchouchou was lifting up the spirits of the arena. And in comes Kotarou just in time! Man, right under the wire. Now we’re like a few days from this planned concert and Saga is still recovering from the huge storm. Morale is quite low and it’s starting to look like a worse outcome for Franchouchou’s revenge than what happened one year ago. Saki used her platform on the radio to reach all of her viewers to see if they could try to come to the arena for their concert that is now a charity concert. So will this concert be a big success or a bigger flop than last year?

Actually, the arena was packed with people. Fans we’ve met in season one and new characters we met this season were even in attendance. Lily’s father ended up clearing away a lot of the debris so that concert goers could get through. Even Iron Frill (Ai’s old group) came in attendance! The concert was a huge success! And can I say that I’m really enjoying Yamada Tae’s Freddie Mercury impression on stage.

Don’t think you’re that clever, Zombieland Saga. We all know!

Yes, the concert was perfect! A great revenge! They even made Kotarou (a grown-ass man) cry. Even the reporter is willing to keep his trap shut (for now) about the girls being zombies. And best of all, NO ONE CAUGHT COVID-19! Yeah, I have to bring that up. The date of the concert was March 8th, 2020. Ahem. March. 2020. But yeah, everything went great. Perfect ending for Zombieland Saga Reven…

AND THEN AN ALIEN MOTHERSHIP COMES IN AND ZAPS THE AREA!

Huh?!

Who wrote that in the script? Some jerkass from Gainax?!

The last 15 seconds of Zombieland Saga leaves us with some sort of unidentified flying object zapping the area. Only Zombieland Saga can get away with this shit. Well folks, let’s see what’s in store for season three, Zombieland Saga: Zombies in Space or Sagapendence Day Zomb-Trek: Deep Space Seven.

Yeah, I know nothing has been greenlit or announced yet, but you know Studio Mappa has something up their sleeves with that ending. Once again, I enjoyed Zombieland Saga’s charm. I didn’t know if there was much more they could offer us after the first season’s stories, like learning how the girls died, Sakura’s past, and especially Lily’s backstory. This season, I wish there was more Yamada Tae. Come on guys, we still don’t know how she died or anything about her past! And what’s up with Yamada Tae being buried next to Sakura? Did they know each other before passing away? I want some answers! But I was blown away when it came to Yugiri’s saga and the tale of Saga itself. We got a literal history lesson about what Saga was once, what it became after a long struggle, the pain some folks went to in order to keep Saga thriving, and all leading up to where we are now.

This was a fun season. I had a lot more fun with the music this season than the previous one. Yeah, believe it or not I liked the songs Franchouchou sang this season than last season. Never a dull moment, especially with Kotarou! Yeah, his crazy-ass was totally there making absolutely no fucka sense. Take that competition Lily entered.

What the fuck was Kotarou doing? That was an epic fail on so many levels.

Well folks, whenever season three or whatever sequel may come, I’m hoping for more information involving Yamada Tae. And you know what else was severely missing from this season, Kotarou’s past with Sakura. I didn’t forget that flashback from season one and those couple of seconds this season aren’t enough to satisfy my hunger. Those are the two things I would like to know more about in whatever comes of the franchise. Otherwise, great time had by all!

Once more, if you are not a fan of idol shows, this is the only one I would highly recommend Zombieland Saga. Crunchyroll has both seasons available for streaming. FUNimation is now dubbing the second season as we speak.

[bexterbex]

A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 26

Warning, if it hasn’t been obvious in the movies there is Nazi symbolism within the First Order. I will expand on this much more throughout the story. If this is something that bothers you, please just exit the story. The author does not condone any Nazi ideals, this is just for fictional uses only.

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with some canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

MASTERLIST

Chapter 26: Reconditioning and Lack of Information

Lieutenant Mitaka informed you that it was time to go, so you put your laptop away and headed to the hangar. Surprisingly it was not General Pryde waiting for you this morning it was Allegiant General Hux. “Good morning m’lady I will be joining you at the Health Committee today,” he said collapsing his hands behind his back following you into the shuttle. 

“Is there a reason why General Pryde isn’t here,” you ask. 

“The Supreme Leader thought it was best that his best general would join you today,” replied Hux while strapping himself in. 

You received a message on your phone from Kylo, ‘Good morning. I look forward to having dinner with you tonight. It is my wish that you will have a better day today.’

You look back up at the general, “So what you’re saying is someone informed the Supreme Leader to what happened at dinner last night.”

The general lifted his chin and with a neutral face said, “It is my duty to make sure that any time you are not with the Supreme Leader that you are comfortable. Last night you were not comfortable and so I justly informed him of this. In our morning meeting, he informed me that I am to escort you today and that General Pryde is to remain on board the ship this morning. He also believes that some of the next few health committee meetings you will need proper assistance as the health officials from your planet have stepped down. I am also the most informed person as to where your education on the First Order is thus far.”

You shook your head slightly at this. So you were being watched by Hux, he was informing Kylo about you, seemingly behind your back. But why would your education come into play? You were discussing your planet, not the First Order. You just hummed in response. Your mood was not better, in fact, it soured from when you woke up this morning. 

You arrived at the White House and entered the meeting room. All of the doctors and nurses seemed to sit up straighter in the presence of General Hux.

“Allegiant General Hux, it is an honor to have you join us for this morning’s meeting,” said Dr. Koroban.

“Thank you, Dr. Koroban. I will be assisting Lady Ren in the negotiations as we are now without help from her own planet. General Pryde will remain on board the Steadfast for the time being,” replied Hux who sat next to you, whereas General Pryde normally sat opposite of you. 

“On our agenda today I believe it is best to start with the topic of exercise,” said Dr. Koroban.

“As we have discussed in the past there are many ‘first world’ countries that do not take care of themselves health-wise as they should. There is a large population that has a sedentary lifestyle. I believe your planet m’lady uses the term office jobs,” said Dr. Dabrini.

“Yes, currently it is recommended that people receive at least 30 minutes of exercise a day and at least 10,000 steps,” you reply. 

“One course of action that we may want to debate is broadcasting morning exercise videos to the citizens. Nothing too strenuous, something like light aerobics. Stretching and basic exercises,” replied Dr. Dabrini.

“When you say broadcasted you do you mean something like public television? Because many local public stations in ‘first world’ countries already do something similar. Mostly for those who are of retirement age,” you ask. 

“No m’lady broadcast as in mandatory. We do it on all First Order planets. We have found it to be very effective,” replied Dr. Dabrini.

You knew there were daily morale-boosting videos that were standard in First Order occupied planets, but you were not comfortable with something like this. Mandatory exercises for everyone on the planet? Flashbacks from world history popped into your head, specifically the topic of the Hitler Youth. 

“You realize my planet has not been affected by the influence of the Empire like many of your other planets? Our people, for the most part, are used to their freedom or at least the ideals of freedom. While this might be something that some people might like, the majority of the planet will not stand for this invasion of privacy,” you respond. 

An officer who you have noticed in the meetings but has never spoken up before says, “Privacy is something you give up for the good of the First Order m’lady. You only gain it back once you have served the First Order well enough. It is a privilege to be earned.”

You turned to look at the general trying to watch his face in response. “This isn’t something you have told me. You told me you give up personal desires. On this planet privacy isn’t a personal desire, it is viewed as a right.” His face revealed nothing, he just stared at the wall on the opposite side of the room. 

The officer spoke again, “Allegiant General sir, was it not your father Commandant Brendol Hux who said, War is peace, Freedom is slavery, Ignorance is strength when talking about those who have not learned of the ways of the First Order?”

“Yes, it was,” responded Hux who now has looked over at the officer his face still neutral or rather emotionless. 

“If the memo that was sent out this morning was correct, then 85 percent of Earth’s population has already been registered and subsequently has effectively been taking their education sources. And with the 9 percent predicted to register today and 4 percent tomorrow then the majority of this planet has given up on their privacy already. Making that argument invalid,” responded the officer.

Hux’s demeanor changed at this, “Lieutenant Rodinon need I remind you that this is Lady Ren’s planet that you are speaking of. While you have been born and raised in the First Order, she has not. If you wish to remain in your position I suggest you remember who you are speaking to.” The was heat in his voice but the lieutenant did not back down.

“So has she not been receiving the enlightenment materials? She would know this by now if she were. What use will she be to the First Order if she constantly questions our motives,” asked the lieutenant who seemed to want to fight with the general. 

“She is being tutored by me, lieutenant. I should not have to tell you that the Supreme Leader has asked that she receives a different education than others on her planet. Afterall she will one day be the empress of our empire. Apparently, I need to remind you of that fact since you have seemingly ignored it in your debriefings. Captain Pyre,” called the general to your usual golden guard. Who entered the room with two other storm troopers guarding the now open door. “Please have one of your men escort Lieutenant Rodinon for reconditioning. Make sure they tell Colonel Datoo that he should not only review the ‘Character Guidance Program’ but also the memos regarding Lady Ren’s status.”

With this, you saw that there was fear laced in the lieutenant’s eyes as he was escorted by the armed stormtroopers out of the room. Still facing the general you asked, “do you care to explain what just happened?”

His face emotionless once more, except for the muscle that you could see straining in his jaw. “Dr. Koroban if you would excuse Lady Ren and myself for the moment. I ask that you do not resume this committee until instructed to do so, we should be back shortly.” With that he gestured for you to stand and follow him, you made your way down to the familiar red sitting room to which you two were left alone in. 

With his hands behind his back, he began to pace while explaining, “It is under orders from the Supreme Leader that you do not receive the same enlightenment as the rest of your people. For many reasons, as you are to know more about the galaxy and the meaning behind the First Order that you will one day fully help run. And the civilian enlightenment program has some drawbacks once you have received the first 3 lessons.”

“What drawbacks exactly?” There was now a present irritable tone in your voice. 

“They tend to make citizens more docile to the First Order presence. Not that that is necessarily a bad thing, but the Supreme Leader has expressed the desire that he would not like that effect to happen to you.”

“So it is brainwashing them. You are brainwashing my planet into docile creatures. And Kylo approved this!”

At the mention of Kylo’s name, you saw one of the general’s eyebrows minutely raise. “We are not brainwashing them m’lady we are merely enlightening them to the path of order. They see how the First Order can help them and they accept it.”

You shook your head. “I don’t believe you. And he wants me to be not docile, but yet complicit because I don’t know what’s happening to my own people!”

“M’lady I believe this is something he can explain to you best,” the general’s arms were now in front of him in an almost surrendering position.

“But what about the reconditioning that you sent the lieutenant to? What is reconditioning?” You could feel the anger building and yet dissipating within you. 

 “That is something of a requirement in our officer and enlisted core. As you could see the lieutenant was acting in a disrespectful manner towards me and yourself. It is merely a relearning of the rules and regulations that they seemed to forget or deemed to ignore. I can show you it sometime if you wish m’lady.” 

Your anger still hadn’t fully dissipated, “You also said that I would be an empress. That I would one day run the First Order. I have no desire to do this. I did not sign up to rule a military regime let alone a galaxy!”

The general had fully paused and turned to face you. His hands were behind his back and a stern look on his face, “My lady I do not appreciate you undo criticism towards me. This is something you should discuss with the Supreme Leader if you have an issue, not myself. Might I suggest that we return to the meeting? We can switch up the topic to one you would rather discuss and leave any other topic until you have had a discussion with the Supreme Leader.”

You relented. He was still part of the problem, being a part of the First Order and all, but he was not who you were directly angry with. He was right, Kylo really hasn’t told you much as he rather preferred to leave that to someone else, like Hux. You nodded to him and followed him back to the conference room. You knew that Kylo would have some explaining to do tonight at dinner. For now, you tried to focus back on the task at hand. 

“I believe we should change subjects for now. Lady Ren is there a topic you would like to discuss,” asked the general. 

“The topic of sickness prevention. I think we should right now focus on the citizen and not any major procedural items.”

“So you would like a campaign again for citizens to see talking about the basics of sickness prevention, and not any policies that any institution would put in place. Is this correct m’lady,” asked Dr. Koroban. 

“Yes, although it may need to be discussed. There is also the matter of sick leave time as many who are sick must return to work sooner than they would like for things like the common cold. But yes I think a campaign, like the one for hygiene, should be done to prevent contagious sicknesses.”

“Something along the lines of washing your hands, don’t touch your face, stay home when sick, and don’t share food or drink with others? Common sense items but things that should be readdressed,” asked Dr. Dabrini. 

“Yes. These were all things I learned in school but upon entering the workforce it seems like it is something people have either forgotten or just ignore.”  

“I can have Petty Officer Tanau look into that, you have already done so much m’lady,” said Dr. Koroban.

“That’s fine, but could she send me what she finds so I can review it before it gets sent to the Supremacy for final inspection?”

“Yes, Lady Ren. I think that would be most wise. I’ll let Lieutenant Mitaka know when it is done as to not to disturb you. But I think we should wrap up this meeting for today,” with that Dr. Koroban dismissed everyone. 

“My lady would you like to join me and Admiral Frantis Griss for lunch in the officer’s lounge,” asked Hux. 

“Only if you allow Lieutenant Mitaka to join us.” 

The general made eye contact with the lieutenant and noded. You were then off back to the shuttle to take your lunch. 

[libriselvaggi]

three books that changed how I viewed the pandemic

1. Infinite Jest David Foster Wallace

“You’ll never have as much time as you do right now” seemed to be the mantra circulating at the beginning of the infamous Quarantine during Spring of 2020 to boost morale and motivation to get in shape or discover a new hobby. There will never be enough time to read every great book, but I decided to plunge right into reading with Infinite Jest, David Foster Wallace’s 1,079 page capolavoro. I did not know what the book was about, but from what I had heard, I knew it could change me in some way. I mistakenly ordered the book from libby, an ebook service through my public library. It was a painful few days of reading because of the sheer complexity of the book. I patiently awaited the paperback I later ordered and revisited IJ with gusto and a highlighter. My first great revelation was that my multilingual vocabulary was an embarrassment to DWF’s eloquence and creativity. I found myself repeatedly looking up words  and tried not to be discourage in adapting to the DFW’s English. I did not want my copy of IJ to end up on my shelf unfinished and unconquered as what happens to many victims of book’s the difficult structure. The so-called “experimental” endnotes are not to be overlooked and play a fundamental role in the precision of the novel. The book, written in a mosaic of stream of conscious prose, narration and dialogue must be read slowly and given time to process. 

Some of the major themes of IJ are addiction, competition, familial relationships, depression, which work together to offer an answer for the essential question of what makes us human. DFW’s characters are all looking for something as it becomes clear to the reader which aspects of IJ’s characters they embody. I found the chapters with Kate G particularly striking although seemingly non-essential to the book’s main characters, members of the Incandenza family. (N.B): this post will be written in more detail once I am able to retrieve my copy of IJ from home full of notes, post-its and highlights). 

DFW was a visionary and saw things in the 90′s that are still relevant. The passage on video calling is comical and pertinent to the Zoom era. In reality, we don’t want to video chat with people because we have to give them our full attention instead of discretely multitasking and we have to look presentable, which in Wallace’s world resulted in people replacing themselves with models. Wallace also predicted the rise of capitalism with his calendar of sponsored years as a form of advertising. He even could see the rise of the influencer. “The Entertainment” the holy grail of the novel in a sense, exposes the most beautiful girl and viewers are so incapable of looking away that they will die soiled in their couch. Is being the star of “The Entertainment” what influencers are aspiring to be? Over the past year, we are all trying to escape the boredom of staying at home. I absolutely fill my days from beginning to end to try to forget about the loneliness that DFW so poignantly represents in each of his characters. I know myself and I have tendencies towards addiction whether that be to certain habits, clothes, Netflix, even my own thoughts. DFW himself was a self-proclaimed TV addict, or he would have been he said if he owned a television. Especially through reading I have been trying to escape the boredom without trapping myself in something that will be unproductive and unhealthy. This book can be difficult to swallow because you will be confronted with your own addictions, sadness and relationships to loved ones. I will need to read this book again one day to truly understand and appreciate it. For now I am still ruminating and reflecting on my own search for distractions, which is what the book suggests makes us human. 

I reached the last page of the book with a sense of accomplishment for myself and both hope and disillusionment towards the world: hope that it is possible to understand and express such complex emotions, but disillusioned that this sadness and overwhelming amount of “distractions” (some good, some bad) still exist. 

2. The Decameron Giovanni Boccaccio

English: As an Italian major I am completely biased in choosing this title as part of my quarantine reading list. It is also the focus of my senior thesis, which I have also received a scholarship from Cornell to complete. My work is titled The Decameron in the Time of Coronavirus and has therefore earned a spot on this list. I began reading the Decameron in its original 600 year old Italian during the outbreak of coronavirus (Spring Semester 2020). The Decameron is a collection of 100 stories framed by the Brigata comprised of seven women and three men who escape the plague-ridden Florence during the Black Death. When I took this course on the Decameron I hadn’t given a lot of thought to the parallels between the Black Plague and the novel Coronavirus. At the time I was concentrated on the theme of the Decameron I had chosen to write my anthology on: adultery. I wrote 40 pages on all kinds of infidelity present in the Decameron and how it connects to social class, religion, gender, and the larger context of the Plague. 

The Decameron tells stories of love, wit, generosity, trickery, social class and religion and fate. Superficially it is seen as entertainment created by the Brigata to survive isolation during the Plague, much as we are entertaining ourselves now more than ever with film and literature. However, the Decameron presents a lot of themes under the guise of raunch or humor that can be endlessly analyzed, especially in the light of the current pandemic. If you are not up to the challenge of reading 100 stories, I highly recommend at least reading the author’s introduction for a description of the 14th century plague. It is chilling similar to how many have responded to Coronavirus: widening social gaps, abandonment and selfishness characterize Boccaccio’s eyewitness testimony and are clearly still relevant in a modern outbreak of a pandemic. In another post I will discuss some of my favorite novellas or stories from the Decameron as well as analyze the modern adaptation by the New York Times. 29 writers were asked to contribute stories taking place in the time of Coronavirus. The Decameron represents so much linguistically as Boccaccio was one of the first major authors to pen the Italian vernacular largely unchanged to the modern language and he realized the importance of empathy and storytelling in times of crisis. 

Italian: Mi laureo in italiano e quindi sono molto sbilanciata verso la letteratura italiana in questa lista di libri da leggere durante la quarantena. La mia tese di laurea e la mia ricerca, per la quale ho vinto una borsa di studio dalla mia università si concentra sul Decameron nei tempi di Coronavirus. Ho cominciato a leggere quest’opera di Boccaccio di un italiano da seicento anni fa durante il semestre in cui il coronavirus si è scoppiato. Il Decameron è una collezione di 100 novelle raccontate dalla brigata di sette donne e tre uomini che sfuggono dalla Firenze infestata dalla pesta nera. Quando ho seguito il corso sul Decameron non pensavo tanto ai paragoni tra la Pesta Nera e il Coronavirus. Invece mi sono messa a scrivere per un’antologia dell’infedeltà che caratterizza tante storie d’amore nell’opera. Ho scritto quaranta pagine sull’adulterio nell’Decameron nel contesto delle classi sociali, della Chiesa, dei ruoli dei sessi e certo della pesta.

Il Decameron racconta novelle d’amore, arguzia, munificenza, inganni, del divario tra le classi sociali, di religione e fortuna. Sulla superficie si vede il Decameron come un tipo di divertimento creato dalla brigata per sopravvivere l’isolamento durante la pesta proprio come oggi noi ci divertiamo con libri e film. Comunque il Decameron ci presenta tanti temi sotto il pretesto di un po’ di volgarità e umorismo che possono essere analizzati senza limiti, sopratutto vista la pandemia di oggi. Se non vorresti sfidarti con una tale lettura di cento novelle, ti consiglio di leggere almeno l’introduzione e il proem del Decameron. La descrizione di Boccaccio è spaventosamente simile alla nostra risposta al Coronavirus: si vedono l’abbandono dei cari, una disparità sociale e l’egoismo, tutti ancora rilevanti durante la pandemia. In un altro post vorrei scrivere della versione moderna del Decameron scritta da 29 scrittori invitati dal New York Times per scrivere un racconto dei nostri tempi. Il Decameron rappresenta tanto linguisticamente nella cultura italiana e dobbiamo ricordare questo lavoro anche per l’empatia e l’importanza di raccontare come aveva notato Boccaccio. 

3. Blindness José Saramago

English: I had heard a reference to a book about an epidemic of blindness in an Italian film. Living in a pandemic, I quickly discovered a remarkable work of “plague-literature” a new genre recurring on many reading lists over the past year. Blindness underlines the role of government and bureaucracy in disarming the invisible enemy, an epidemic. The first to fall ill are treated like lepers and essentially thrown into what feels like a prison for the sick. Fear of the unknown seems to blind even those who have not been infected. The wife of a doctor sacrifices her sight in order to remain by her husband’s side. Her compassion serves as an immunity to the mysterious disease. Using blindness as the characteristic symptom highlights the delicate human nature and our need for empathy and each other. There is such a raw, human nakedness that comes with suddenly being unable to see. The epidemic that unfolds made me think about whether I too have fallen ill to this disease; what in this world am I not seeing? Similar to Boccaccio’s description of the Black Plague and the empathy the Brigata develops by their decision to return to Florence, the darkness of the character’s fate is met with the brightness and warmth of compassion. Although it may seem like a grim choice, this book was surprisingly uplifting and is certainly a challenging read with a rich vocabulary. 

Português: Ouvi falar de Ensaio sobre a cegueira em um film italiano, ou seja sobre um livro que raconta uma epidemia de cegueira e depois achei o livro de Saramago . Vivendo durante uma pandemia, eu descobri um gênero emergente de literature que se chama “literatura de praga” que aparece em muitas listas de livros de 2020. A cegueira como epidemia salienta o papel do governo e da burocracia no desarmamento do inimigo invisível, a doença. Os primeiros a ficarem doentes são tratados como leprosos e jogados no que parece uma prisão para os doentes. O medo do desconhecido cega mesmo aqueles que não foram infectados. A esposa de um médico sacrifica a sua visão para ficar com seu marido. A sua compaixão torna-se uma imunidade à misteriosa doença. A cegueira como o sintoma caraterístico sublinha a delicada natureza humana e a necessidade de empatia . Há uma crua nudez humana que acompanha a cegueira repentina. A epidemia do livro me faz pensar na minha própria cegueira, ou seja o que na minha vido não estou vendo. Eu li este livro não só para aprofundar perspectiva sobre o vírus como também para encontrar mais literatura portuguesa. 

[causeiwanttoandican]

The media starts pointing out the obvious.

William, Harry, and coronavirus: A tale of two royal brothers and their reactions to a crisis

White the Sussexes head to LA, the Cambridges are bolstering under pressure staff during the coronavirus pandemic

By Camilla Tominey, Associate Editor27 March 2020 • 5:54pm

The moment could not have been more emblematic of the divide between the Duke and Duchess of Sussex and the rest of the Royal family.

As Prince George, Princess Charlotte and Prince Louis were being filmed joining in a national round of applause for NHS heroes, Harry and Meghan were more than 5,000-miles away, posting clapping emoji on Instagram from their new base in California.

“Thank you for all that you continue to do,” read the message on the Sussex Royal Instagram story. “Applauding you from across the pond.”

While obviously well meaning, the digital communiqué appeared a little hollow compared to the heartwarming sight of the three Cambridge children, aged six, four and one, taking part in the #ClapForOurCarers initiative just a day after their own grandfather, Prince Charles, announced he too had tested positive for Covid-19.

Having boarded one of the last flights into the US from Canada, where they have been staying on Vancouver Island since splitting from the Firm, the exiled couple are now in their own form of self-imposed royal isolation in Los Angeles.

Friends say they are staying at a secluded compound in the Hollywood area of Meghan’s home town, where she has a support system including her mother Doria, who was spotted walking her dogs on Thursday.

One source told the US magazine, People: “Harry is looking straight ahead at his future with his family. They will be spending time in California… he’s not looking back.”

The move has not only left their nearest and dearest “stunned and horrified”, having thought they might return with their 10-month-old son Archie to be with their relatives during the global pandemic, Canadians are also up in arms, accusing them of using the Commonwealth country as a “smokescreen” for their long-planned assault on America.

Some are now starting to question whether they ever had any intention of supporting Queen and Commonwealth, or always had their sights firmly fixed on Hollywood.

Yet with coronavirus dominating the airwaves both in the UK and the US – where more people are now infected than the 81,000 in China – the couple’s Stateside relaunch, which once promised fireworks, now appears in danger of turning into more of a damp squib, as the March 31 deadline signalling their formal royal exit fast approaches.

They undeniably have an impregnable and enthusiastic fan base in Meghan’s native country, but is anyone going to take much notice while the US is clocking up the most cases of coronavirus in the world under Donald Trump’s increasingly questionable leadership, and with an election just months away?

If their latest efforts are anything to go by, they stand little chance of winning the battle of the headlines in the UK either, not least with William, 37, and Kate, 38, regarded as “playing a blinder” in their absence.

And whether the couples like it or not, comparisons are certainly being made (which perhaps explains why so many of the Sussexes’ online updates are still coinciding with their brother and sister-in-law’s royal activities).

As Harry announced the postponement of the Invictus Games, the Cambridges were being lauded for making a “real” difference by making a morale-boosting visit to a 111 call centre. Dressed in a pink trouser suit from Marks and Spencer, the future queen told hard-pressed staff: “It’s amazing. You’re doing such a great job bringing everyone together and providing that, the support system for the whole public.”

William, himself a former air ambulance pilot who has worked on the front line, later praised the health service as representing “the very best of our country and society”, as he thanked staff on behalf of the Royal family. Although the couple faced some criticism from those who felt their presence was a distraction, the general consensus was that they were right to do their bit.

Sources close to the couple say they will continue to offer support and are liaising with the Government and their charities in a bid to decide when and where they would be most “useful”. With the Queen self-isolating at Windsor Castle and the heir to the throne in quarantine at Birkhall on the Balmoral estate in Scotland, the Cambridges are now at the top of the royal roll call.

But observers cannot fail to have noticed how depleted the Royal family now looks without the Sussexes on side. As a former Army captain who revels in rolling up his sleeves in a crisis, the outbreak would have provided Harry with the perfect opportunity to do what he does best – geeing up the public in the face of adversity

Remember the flood relief efforts in 2014, when the royal brothers donned waterproofs and waders to help the Household Cavalry unload sandbags from military trucks?

Instead the 35-year-old royal, who twice fought for Queen and country in Afghanistan, has been reduced to sharing the World Health Organisation’s online advice and inviting fans to share their feelings via a rather trite: “Today I Feel…” Instagram post. They had hoped to create a “community” around coronavirus but instead appear to have sparked a controversy with what one critic described as meaningless “word salad”, rather than affirmative action.

Meanwhile, Meghan, 38, being signed up to narrate the new Disney documentary Elephant – after Harry touted her talents to executive chairman, Bob Iger – has only served to make their efforts to appear one of “us” rather than one of “them” seem even more cynical.

Summing up the mood among royal watchers, Joe Little, editor-in-chief of Majesty magazine, said: “From the time they said they were going to Canada, I always saw it as a stopgap for them hopping over the border – a softener because it was a Commonwealth country.

“While some are saying they’ve only gone to the US to escape coronavirus, it doesn’t make sense. Surely you would be much safer on Vancouver Island than in LA? This was always about Meghan being back on her patch and that master plan is now in place.”

Agreeing that Harry “would certainly have mucked in and done everything he could to help”, Little added: “But now he is in a different world. From Wednesday they will no longer be working members of the Royal family, so we have to start looking at them in a different way. They have got their own agenda, which is such a shame when you consider how useful they could have been to the British monarchy at this time of national emergency.”

“You have to give something back, you can’t just sit there,” Harry famously insisted in an echo of his mother, Diana, Princess of Wales when speaking about his Army training. Having passed out of Sandhurst with flying colours, he appeared the epitome of the military academy’s motto: “Serve to lead.”

Yet as he and Meghan embark on a new life in America, fans will be hoping that the newly rebranded Duke and Duchess of Sussex will not forget the royal roots that helped Harry to become one of the most effective campaigners of his generation.