#i think this may have been the straw that broke the camel's back

[salsa-di-pomodoro]

Oh COME ON

GOD FUCKING DAMN IT WHY TUMBLR?? WHY MUST YOU SHOW ME ANGST, THE THING I AM FILTERING, WITHOUT FAIL THE MOMENT I FEEL OKAY?

I AM SO DAMN ANGRY RIGHT NOW. I COULDN'T EVEN TELL YOU IF IM MAD AT TUMBLR OR AT THE OP OR AT FATE OR AT WHATEVER THE FUCK EVEN

I'M SO TIRED I'M SO ANGRY I'M SO FUCKING SAD I AM CRYING, ARE YOU HAPPY?????? IS WHATEVER FORCE OF THE UNIVERSE DECIDED I CAN'T BE HAPPY EVER PLEASED? FUCK YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU SO MUCH DIE

[gay-dorito-dust]

I have been binging your work!

I don't know if this breaks your trauma rule or not, but (with the guys of your choosing as long as Ratio is there) how would the guys react to losing reader (they haven't confessed feelings yet) during a mission and thinking they died. Then, the reader reappears a week later bandaged up, but alive. Maybe spouts their confession first? ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

I adore your writing. Thank you!

This is way too fucking long, so be warned. It’s like I rammed 4 mini stories in one but got lost at some point cuz I left this ask to collect dust. Also thanks for enjoying my writing it’s much appreciated. :) 🦦🐿️

Sunday:

The moment he got news that you’ve been assumed dead in the aftermath of a dangerous mission, he looses composure really quickly.

Loosing Robin was one thing but loosing you on top of that was the straw that broke the camels back.

He originally doesn’t believe that you were gone, he refuses to as he practically tears his office to shreds in a fit of anger and grief before forcing himself to regain composure and clean up after his outburst. He needed to in order to keep up the illusion that he was the levelheaded leader The Family needed in these moments of chaos and mistrust.

Even if he himself was breaking down internally alongside everyone else, hellbent on finding the culprit for your death and punishing them so severely that they’d beg for death. He’d avenge you in anyway he could, even if it meant sending out the bloodhound family on a wild goose chase that only ends in dead ends, he would get you justice no matter how it may come.

His heart had died alongside you that day.

So when a week passes and he finally has you back in his arms, all the while being carful with your wounds as his eyes searched you over in a way you weren’t use to.

‘You’re alive.’ He breathes out in relief as he then begins to laugh and rest his head against yours, breathing you in deeply as he relishes in this long awaited moment. ‘Of course you’re alive.’ He mutters.

‘Sunday,’ you began but Sunday was quite to cut you off.

‘Do you know how I felt thinking you were dead? Driving myself insane to prove that you were still alive anyway I could as not to bear the idea of walking through this life without the one person I love so dearly.’ Sunday takes a brief pauses in his monologue, feeling out of breath after having put everything out into the open before continuing. ‘I thought my heart had stopped beating that day and now I have you bad in my arms.’ Sunday then chuckles darkly as he gripped you tighter. ‘I’ll ensure that I’d never have to revisit that part of my life ever again.’

‘Sunday-‘

‘Shhh.’ Sunday cuts you off once more, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he holds you close to his chest, rubbing your back soothingly. ‘Just know that what I do after this, I do out of my love for you.’ He says against your forehead before pressing another kiss there for good measure.

Jing yuan:

Loss wasn’t new to Jing Yuan.

He has experienced it in multiple forms throughout his life, but that didn’t made the news of your death any less painful for the General.

While his mind might’ve made peace with the fact that you were gone, his heart however did not as he would find himself in the places that you often vacated to in moments of stress, or to just be left alone for a while with your thoughts. So to no longer see you in any of those hidden spots -waiting for him to find you like you usually did- only worsened the grief he felt in his heart as he sat himself down and allowed the memories to pass over him in waves.

You were both so happy together and felt a sense of fulfilment that could only be achieved when you were within the other’s presence; A feeling that was uniquely yours and yours alone that could never be replicated, ever. For no one could ever come close to replacing you, nor the companionship you and he had for each other that many assumed would blossom into something more; Jing Yuan also shared the same sentiments as they did, but just as he built the courage to push that boundary between the two of you, you were taken from him before he could utter a single word.

So when a week passes and Jing Yuan found your battered and beaten form in one of your secret spots, back resting against a tree with your eyes closed.

‘Y/n?’ He called out and your eyes opened upon hearing his voice and looking at him with a weak smile. ‘Hey General, miss me?’ You said as you struggled to get up to your feet, only to stumble forward and into Jing Yuan’s chest as his strong yet gentle hands hold you in place.

‘More than you could ever hope to know.’ Jing yuan said as he focused on how you felt beneath his hands, warm and alive.

‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting.’ You muttered against his chest as his warmth made you realised just how tired you were from everything you’ve experienced this last week alone. ‘I never meant to keep you waiting in fear that you’d forget about me if I don’t stay in your life long enough.’ You admit and Jing Yuan instinctively presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, holding you protectively.

‘I could never forget about you my beloved.’ Jing Yuan reassured you as he looked you deep into your eyes. ‘You’ve managed to carve your place within my heart and soul, so much that there isn’t a day where you aren’t all I think about, regardless of whether or not your by my side or far away.’ He finished by pressing a gentle kiss to the gauze on your cheek, chuckling upon seeing your cute attempts of burrowing your face into his chest.

‘How long have you’ve been waiting to say this.’ You asked, thankful that he was the one to admit his feelings first, as you would’ve had a hard time articulating your words as fluidly as he could.

‘For a very long time.’ Jing Yuan replied with a small smile as he then proceeded to lift you into his arms, cuasing you to squeal in surprise, as he made sure to be carful of your wounds and began walking to the nearest medics to make sure your wounds weren’t going to be trouble later on.

Aventurine:

He didn’t know what to think when you were pronounced dead, all Aventurine could feel in that moment was an overwhelming numbness that encased him entirely.

The only light left in his life had been snuffed out, plummeting him into utter and total darkness he had once been well acquainted with until you came along, giving him a reason to keep looking forward despite everything.

You were no longer here to hold onto his left hand before he could even think of hiding it behind his back out of habit, you were no longer here to be his reason, his comfort, his safe place. You were taken away from him unfairly and once again Aventurine found himself asking the same question he has been asking himself for a long time; why everyone was born into this life just to die.

So when a week passes and Aventurine finds himself sat on a bench somewhere, still not dealing well then than he was the week of your assumed passing, lost in his own thoughts when someone took a seat next to him. Aventurine was just about ready to tell them to go away, when he saw just who was sitting next to him; you.

‘I know, I look like shit but you don’t have to look at me like that.’ You spoke upon feeling his eyes gaze upon the gauze on your cheek, then towards the array of bandages that littered the rest of your body.

‘I thought you died.’ He hissed, emotion was heavy in his voice as his eyes became bleary with unshed tears as he felt his breathing become heavy with the reality that you were alive. He didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t in that moment as his mind raced. And it wasn’t until you reached out to grasp his left hand and intertwine your fingers together, squeezing, did everything finally became clear to him.

‘I thought I was too at one point but there was something that kept me from journeying over to the afterlife.’ You admit, looking over at him and smiling sweetly, wanting nothing then to calm his thoughts and reassure him that this wasn’t a dream.

‘And what was that?’ He laughs humourlessly as he stares back at you, wanting to hear what excuses you could come up with for faking being dead for a week. ‘Willpower? Determination?’

‘You Kakavasha.’ You replied straightforwardly and his breath hitched in his throat. You rarely used his actual name unless it was absolutely serious. ‘You were all I thought about as I pushed through my injuries.’ You told him as you continued. ‘Kakavasha is waiting for me was just about all I could think about for a week straight.’ You finished as though you didn’t just confess that he was your soul motivator in staying alive.

‘Really?’ Aventurine said softly, finding it impossible that he could possibly be your reason for anything. ‘Why?’

‘Yes really.’ You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder. ‘As for why, it’s because I like you more then did let myself admit, but i just wanted you to know incase anything truly bad were to ever happen to me-‘

‘No.’ Aventurine cut you off suddenly, squeezing your hand as though he were afraid. ‘Nothing is going to happen to you, not now. not ever. I just got you back.’ He adds resting his head against your own in a desperate attempt of feeling more of your against him. ‘Just stay with me…please.’ He begs you in a whisper as he nuzzled further into you. ‘and don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I don’t think I can bear the thought of loosing you again.’

You smiled softly as you just whispered back against the skin of his neck. ‘As long as you don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I like my crush to be alive and close by even if he can be a pain in my ass sometimes.’

Aventurine chuckles, his heart becoming whole again as he made you cuddle into his side, kissing your head once more as you took this moment to familiarise yourselves with each other. ‘At least I’m a pleasurable pain in the ass.’ He teased and you pinch his side, causing him to flinch, but his smile remained and this time his smile was genuine.

His light has came home.

Ratio:

Fully believed that he’d see you when the mission ended, knowing just how talented and dedicated to the craft you were, and having faith that this would be a measly walk in a park for you.

Only to receive word that you were one of the many who were assumed dead when you weren’t found amongst the living nor the dead.

Veritas tries to remain as levelheaded and logical as possible during this time and continue life as normal. However found himself retracting from everyone else and going none contact, more so specifically with the people you were once associated with, and instead focused heavily on his studies and academics to an unhealthy extent.

A week passes and Veritas feels as though he’s seen a ghost the moment he saw you in his peripheral vision, bandaged and dressed in ripped clothing but still somehow finding it in you to smile.

‘You idiotic Buffon!’ He exclaims as he walks towards you.

‘Well that’s a nice way to greet someone you care about.’ You replied as you readied yourself for a massive rant about how stupid you were and so on, but instead you were held against his chest as he burrows his head into your neck.

‘I thought you died.’ He says in a whisper as he breathed you in. This went against all logic but in that rare moment Veritas didn’t care, you were alive but he still couldn’t let go of the fact that you didn’t tell anyone you were still alive. ‘Why didn’t you tell anyone that you were alive, send a signal, anything.’

You shrugged as you made yourself comfortable in his strong arms. ‘All communications were badly damaged or completely cut off.’ You told him. ‘I was on my own for a long while before finding my way back to you.’

‘Me?’ Veritas asked, pulling away from you. ‘Why not a medial facility for a proper treatment of your wounds? Have you hit your head so hard that common sense had been left on the back burner when making that decision?’

‘I wanted to see you first you dickhead!’ You exclaimed, shutting Veritas up rather quickly with your confession but you didn’t care. ‘is it so wrong of me to let the man I love know that I’m okay? So go ahead and call me an idiot all you like but that won’t change the fact that I felt more fear about not telling you how I truly feel then dying on some stupid mission.’ You finished your rant.

‘You’re insufferable.’ Veritas said after a moment of silence and you couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed at this that you didn’t notice that Veritas has began to close in the distance between the two of you.

You scoffed. ‘Oh sure call me insufferable as if you-‘ Veritas cuts you off by cupping your cheeks and planting a sweet short lived kiss against your lips before pulling away with a smirk.

‘Glad to know that the feelings are reciprocated.’ He says, taking enjoyment of rendering you speechless as he gently guided you to medical, and remaining by your side for the remainder of the day.

[ivibells]

people are so focused on this one confession that they’re not willing to see it for what it is: a symptom of a much larger problem with how we as a fanbase treat the dev. i doubt that this person meant any harm initially, and they’ve since apologized, so i don’t want to attack them an individual. yet, i think it’s important to ask why they thought their confession was appropriate in the first place, and why so many people saw it and didn’t say anything. to be clear, i am one of those people. i definitely didn’t agree with the initial post, but i didn’t think enough about its impact at the time to speak up. so, i want to clarify that the rest of this post is not coming with a ‘holier than thou’ attitude. what i’m saying applies to the fanbase as a whole, not just “a few bad apples”. this is an issue for all of us to consider. 

no sane person would post a confession criticizing the behavior of another individual fan on a public account. that would be like me posting “I don’t like ___'s typing style. It’s weird.” on a public account where the rest of the fanbase could see it. that’s obviously not the exact wording - i don’t care to get caught up in particulars here. if you have to, imagine that i used the exact same wording as the original post, but replace “DRDTdev” with someone’s name. of course, that wouldn’t be okay, and i would be called out immediately, if the confession was even posted at all. so, why is it okay to do that to the dev? why did someone decide that they wanted to say that, not just to a few friends, but to the entire fanbase? why did the confessions account think it was appropriate to post at all? did they not think the dev would see it? did they think their words wouldn’t have any impact? i've seen other people who reblogged/agreed with the initial confession saying as much. all of these reasons, to me at least, lead to the same root cause - many fans don’t see the dev as a person like you or i. for better or for worse (almost always worse), the dev is treated as some otherworldly being who doesn’t know what their fanbase is up to. and that treatment has consistently lead to disrespectful behavior.

there has already been a serious problem with people treating the dev and other staff members’ work as something that spawned from the void rather than art that a person put their time and effort into. the previous incidents with AI usage really showed that lack of respect. the fact that anyone thought it was okay to put someone else’s art, writing, or literal voice into an AI tool without permission is just baffling. an artist putting out their work in public isn’t them giving permission to steal it. but as bad as that is, the fact that people have continued to use AI related to DRDT after the dev explicitly asked us not to is another level of disgusting. again, i think that this shows how people don’t see the dev, and by extension the staff, as human. they’re just seen as content creators whose work people are entitled to use as they see fit. 

it’s not just AI, either. the sheer disrespect i see in terms of the story - calling any decision that they personally don’t like bad writing, insulting characters that don’t suit their personal tastes, or acting like they could do a better job telling the dev’s story than the dev themselves - is far too common. obviously, this isn’t something specific to the DRDT fandom, and no amount of posting on tumblr will prevent it. but it’s yet another instance of how much this fanbase has failed the dev. but the most widespread problem is how the fanbase consistently ignores or tries to work around the dev’s wishes regarding age limits. the dev has recommended that people under 16 not watch DRDT, and explicitly forbidden them from being a part of fan communities such as discord servers. people love to give their thoughts on this rule, often excuses - “i can’t control what i like”, etc. in fact, they usually don’t treat it as a rule at all - just a preference which they’re free to ignore the moment it inconveniences them. the issue here, beyond just the fact that this rule is being broken in the first place, is how often it happens.  i’ve seen numerous accounts on DRDT twitter and tiktok outright admitting that they’re younger than 16 - and no one says anything. i haven’t seen it on tumblr, but that doesn’t mean the problem isn’t here as well. the fact that so many fans are unable to respect a bare minimum age restriction - not just for being a fan of DRDT, but for actively choosing to seek out and be a part of fan spaces that are explicitly not meant for them - gives me no hope at all for the fanbase as a whole. it’s essentially saying, “i will consume this person’s work, but i won’t respect them as a person”. after listing all these issues, i know that a ton of people will ignore me, since they themselves haven’t done these things. and i believe that is part of the problem as well. it’s not enough to just follow the dev’s wishes ourselves - we’re also responsible for making sure that we aren’t interacting with people who don’t follow those wishes and that we aren’t giving them a place in the community. that sounds a bit confusing, so i’ll speak in terms of the age issue - it’s not only the job of people under 16 to manage themselves and stay out of fan spaces. we all know that not everyone is going to follow that rule. so, fans over 16 have a responsibility to not interact with them. similarly, if any of us are aware of fans using AI, or not respecting the dev’s wishes in another way, we should prevent them from being a part of the community. 

of course, we can’t always know when people aren’t behaving as they should. age can be especially difficult to keep a handle on, since many people on the internet don’t disclose that information. in more private spaces, such as discord, asking someone’s age before letting them into a space is easy, but you can’t always vet the age of every single person who follows you on social media. i’m not asking everyone to do that, or for every drdt fan to put their ages in their bio on a public site. the point here is awareness - if you know that someone interacting with you in a DRDT fan space is under 16, or is otherwise disrespecting the dev, don't interact with them. 

as fans of the dev's work, we absolutely need to respect them. be sure that other fans are aware of what is and isn't acceptable, and make sure that everyone is at least respecting these basic boundaries. let's try to be a fanbase that the dev is proud of, instead of one that upsets them.

to reiterate one final time, i don’t want to attack the person who made the original confession, or the person running the confessions account. this isn’t about them. i don't want to attack anyone at all - i hope i've been clear that this is something everyone in the fanbase should consider. everything that has happened lately is an opportunity for us to have this conversation, but it's something we should have been having since the beginning. instead of arguing about this incident for a little while and moving on, let's really stop and take a look at ourselves so we can be better going forward. 

As a fandom we genuinely need to have a conversation about how this community treats the developer. Urgently

I have a lot to say about it. A lot of you need to learn some fucking respect.

Have this conversation!! Talk about it!! Talk about how their boundaries are constantly crossed the staff is constantly disrespected and they’re constantly talked about as if they aren’t an actual person! Do it!!! Let’s sit down and have it. This is a genuine invitation. I’ll gladly start.

[allbark-no-bite]

marriage and honor.

jake seresin x reader (wc: 6.5k)

summary: the Navy has already taken two people from your life, and you don’t intend to let there be a third. that is until Jake Seresin walks into your life

warnings: severe plot holes, mentions of character death, swearing

authors note: based off of the movie Purple Hearts. it’s a great movie and i highly suggest watching it! please bear with me in the beginning of this, the plot holes fix themselves, i promise lol. i literally threw this together because i wrote one scene for shits and giggles and had to commit to it

(read parts two and three here: december and devotion, cats and christmas)

————————————————————————

No one ever expects to have to bury their brother at fifteen. Kinda just like no one expects to have to bury their other brother at eighteen. But you do it the first time and then you do it again three years later. It's a bit like deja vu the second time, like you're reliving the actual nightmare all over again. Except this time there's no one to hold your hand and tell you it's all going to be alright because he's dead and buried too.

They both die honorable deaths in service to their country. At least that's what they say at the memorials. You're not so sure there's anything comforting about dying honorably. They're both still dead, honored or not.

Raised by your grandparents, you'd grown up the youngest of three on a military base smack dab in the middle of San Diego, better yet known as Fightertown USA. True military brats, your old brothers enlisted straight out of high school, one after the other. As their young and impressionable kid sister, you worshiped the ground they walked on and had your heart set on following in their footsteps. That was of course, until they both went and died.

'Sometime these things just happen', is what you were told. And you know, freak accidents do happen. Engines fail, training exercises go awry, safety precautions are ignored. But that doesn't make up for the fact that lightning has, against all odds, stuck the same place twice.

So after the Navy takes away not one but two people from your life, you swear off all things to do with military life. The moment you graduate high school you pay out of pocket just to move off of the base into a shitty the-bedroom-and-bathroom-are-in-the-same-place apartment. You go to college and get the kind of degree that looks good on paper but you can't really get a job with. But it's fine because it helped you to put the past behind you and move on. So much that when your grandmother passes away unexpectedly, leaving your grandfather widowed, you're able to stomach moving back closer to home to take care of him.

At least, you'd thought that you had moved on.

Now, standing in the middle of the courthouse wearing what had been your college graduation dress (the only white dress you could find on such short notice) and watching the man before you slip a ring on your finger, you're not so sure. As a matter of a fact, you actually feel sick, queasy like you might have to bend over the nearest trashcan to get the blood rushing to your head again. That might would be a good idea because what the hell were you thinking.

Jake must take notice of the expression on your face because he offers you a weak smile, his pink lips pressed together. The same thought must be running through his mind too because he also looks like he might be sick at any moment.

What the hell were either of you thinking?

"I now pronounce you husband and wife." Thankfully the minister is too bored looking with his own job to notice that both of you are looking worse for wear. He also completely forgets to say 'you may now kiss the bride', which is another thing to be thankful for. That might have been the straw that broke the camel's back and sent both you and Jake running for the hills. Instead he mumbles a unenthusiastic congratulations and departs from the room, leaving you and Jake standing numbly side by side.

In the following seconds after the minister leaves the room, silence settles between the two of you, partially due to shock and partially because you don't even know what to say. It's a sight, Jake in his pristine navy dress whites and you in your too short college graduation dress.

Finally, Jake clears his throat, swallowing. "Well, there's no turning back now."

*queue rewind noise* 

You may be wondering how we got here.

*six days ago*

"C'mon baby, you didn't think that was funny? Girls usually love that line."

He'd been after you all night, smiling, cracking jokes, buying you beers. You had to admit, he was nothing if not persistant.

"Unfortunately for you, I don't date funny guys." Despite your tone, you're actually genuinely amused by the situation. He's trying so hard, and it's getting him absolutely nowhere.

He's handsome, without a doubt the most attractive man at the bar, but he could be the most attractive man in the world and you still wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole. Not with that smile and defiantly not with that uniform on.

"And why is that?" he laughs, undeterred by your blatant disinterest. His friends are watching, have been watching the two of you do this dance all night, and he's not about to back down now.

You watch the smile lines that appear on his tanned face, the way his eyes crinkle in amusement as he awaits on your answer. He's probably a few years your senior, early thirties if that's anything to go by.

"Funny guys are dangerous. They make you laugh and laugh and then boom you're naked."

His smile twitches and yeah, you can be funny too, wise guy.

"Is that where you think this is going?" he asks.

"Where else would it be going?"

And that's how it all started. The beginning of the end.

"You know navy spouses get a monthly stipend and are allowed to live on base?"

You remain facing the bar, peeling at the label on your bottle, not bothering to glance to your side. "You know, I really fucking wish Natasha would keep her mouth shut."

"(Y/n)—"

"It's no one else's fucking business what—"

He grabs the seat of your stool, nearly jerking it out from under you as he pulls it closer to his own. "Listen to me," he growls, a stark change from his usual demeanor.

Stubbornly leaning away so that you're not so close, you regard him with suspicious and narrowed eyes. You raise an eyebrow as if to say he's got your attention, however unwillingly.

"Right now, we're both in a tight spot, okay?"

You knew about his dad. Heard the whole spiel from Natasha— who you're learning that while, your best friend, cannot be trusted to keep her mouth shut— about how they weren't on good terms, hadn't talked since Jake got into the academy, and suddenly he calls out of the blue to tell Jake that he'd had enough of his son's playing around and that it was time for him to start thinking about getting married. That if he didn't within the next few months, he'd arrange the whole thing himself.

"You need a place to live—" You shush him, eyes darting to the people around you. You don't need anyone knowing that you can't exactly afford to pay your rent. Jake rolls his eyes because he doubts anyone could hear him even if he was yelling with how loud it is in the bar, but he lowers his voice regardless. "You need a place to live, and I need to get my old man off of my back..." He trails off, as if you should know where he's going with this.

You don't. You're just staring at him with an increasingly annoyed expression on your face, wondering how soon you can get out of this conversation.

He takes a deep breath and sighs. 

"Hear me out, okay? What if we get married?"

You had actually laughed in his face at first, and Jake was so dead serious about it that he didn't even dwell on the fact that it was the first time you had laughed at something that he'd said.

"Not a chance in hell, Seresin,"  had been your second response. But that's the thing with pretty guys, they can be awfully convincing.

It all happens so fast that you have metaphorical whiplash. Next thing you know, you're wearing a brand new diamond on your finger and going out to the bar with his entire squad the night before their deployment.

Of course, they're all a bit shocked at first. You would be too. You and Jake hadn't exactly been even remotely civil with each other just a few days prior. But if any of them are suspicious of your's and Jake's sudden union, they don't let on, all too happy to have something to celebrate before they ship out. Fanboy and Payback have each brought their wives and Natasha her girlfriend as well. You suppose you're expected to mingle with them, maybe shed a tear or two over the shared bond that your partners are going across the country, but you can't really find a way to connect with them so you kind of just avoid them altogether. You do feel bad, sitting there without a care in the world while they all try to offer comfort and reassurance to each other. But you don't really know what else to do because it's not like you're exactly sad.

Thankfully Javy, or as he's known, Coyote, stands up and raises his near empty bottle of beer in the air and saves you from anymore uncomfortable sitting. "I'd like to make a toast! To the newlyweds!" You spoke too soon. The table cheers and raises their bottles in response, all of the attention turning to where you and Jake are sitting. Cheeks immediately flushing, you have to refrain from sinking down in your seat. Jake is grinning, accepting the few rough pats on the back that he receives from Rooster beside him.

And just when you think that's the worst it's going to get, it gets worse.

"Kiss!"

You're not sure who starts it, but like teenage boys, the entire squad parrots in unison.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

At first Jake just laughs and shakes his head good naturedly, shrugging off the insistent urging of his friends, and you think that's going to be the end of it. But the chanting doesn't stop and finally Jake turns towards you. Your face is probably red hot and undeniably panicked. Heart racing, you try to read him in the half second that you're given as he leans and wraps his arm around you. Is he going to kiss you? Are you supposed to kiss him?

Neither option happens. Jake's arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you close into his side and at the last moment, he turns to press a kiss to your cheek. A series of disappointed boos follow but they are drowned out by clapping for the most part. He's uncomfortably close, closer than you ever would have liked to be to Jake Seresin, but you have to remind yourself that it's all for show. When Jake does turn away, you can still feel the warmth of his lips smeared against your cheek. Even so, he hasn't let go of you pressed into his side. 

Your heart still racing, you reason with yourself that if Jake can play the part, you might as well too, and under that pretense, allow yourself to hide your face into his shoulder to conceal it's redness. The smell of his cologne washes over you, and oddly enough, you don't hate it. It's subtle, with a hit of what might be amber, and nothing like the overwhelmingly masculine scent that you would have pegged him for. 

If Jake finds your sudden willingness to touch him strange, he doesn't comment on it, likely assuming that you're just trying to make this thing between the two of you seem real. You somewhat reluctantly pull away when Coyote's voice raises again.

"And here's to shooting down some fucking MiGs!"

Again, the table erupts into a chorus of cheering and hollering. You still, allowing Jake to fully pull away from your side while the proclamation rings out in your head. It's a very grounding moment, and suddenly you feel very alone sitting at the table. No one seems to have noticed your shift in mood. Maybe you're the only one put off by Javy's statement because this is their reality. There are people who are not coming home from this mission; everyone just likes to assume it won't be them. You know better.

You can't help it, the words just come out of your mouth. "That's a fucked up thing to say."

It's the first time you've really spoken up the entire night and all heads turn towards you. Based on the look in Jake's eyes, which is a bit apprehensive, as if he knows this is headed nowhere good, you realize you probably should have just kept your mouth shut.

Payback shifts uncomfortably in his chair while the rest of the crew glances around the table wearing varying states of confusion. Their gazes shift from you to Jake, as if waiting for some sort of explanation. 

Coyote is the first to break the silence. "Look, sweetheart, that's just the way things are. Here in the Navy, that's a badge of honor. Your boy Hangman here is the only one of us with a confirmed air-to-air kill."

"(Y/n)—", Jake attempts to interject, but you're not about to let him explain himself to you in front of all these people.

You set your jaw and swallow back the anger threatening to rise up in your throat. "Yeah, because killing people is so honorable."

Coyote scoffs. "We're just doing our jobs. And if that means taking down a few planes while we're at it, so be it."

"Your job is to protect people," you snap. "There are people out there who have families—"

"Alright, that's enough—" Jake begins to interject for the second time, but this time it's Coyote who interrupts him.

"Come on, man. You're really going to let her say that kinda shit—"

You stand up. "I don't need his permission to—"

"I SAID ENOUGH." This time it's startling enough to cut both of you off. "(Y/n), what is your fucking problem?" Jake snaps.

You flinch at the harshness of his question.

Your eyes travel around the quiet table, where everyone is holding their breath, and then back to Jake. His green eyes reflect a type of pissed off what would be terrifying if you weren't so angry yourself.

A small, logical part of you knows that he has a right to be angry. You've picked a fight for no apparent reason in front of his friends and he hasn't the slightest clue why. It's not his fault your brothers are dead and you blame the Navy for it.

Regardless, that doesn't make up for the fact that you're pissed off by his defense of what Coyote has said. Even though you probably owe him an explanation, you're not about to answer him when he's just yelled at you. You also know that if you don't say something, he's going to and you'd rather die before letting him tell you off in front of all these people. You abruptly push away from the table and storm off for the bar top. You can hear Jake chasing after you.

"(Y/n)."

You ignore him in favor of heading towards the back door of the Hard Deck, pushing past people regardless of whether they're in your way or not. Being slightly more considerate, you can hear Jake moving much slower as he excuses himself through the crowd.

"(Y/n)—"

You come to a stop once you reach the door, spinning on your heels with a fire in your eyes.

"What's my problem?!"

Behind you, you can hear the loud jesting and jeering of his friends back at the table. They're still ruffled with excitement from your outburst, and Coyote's voice follows your retreating back. "Jesus man, get your girl under control."

I'm not his girl, you want to snap. He doesn't own me.

Jake has stopped a few feet away from you. 

"What's my fucking problem?! My problem is that your friends are sitting over there calling murder honor."

Jake sighs harshly though his nose. Shaking his head, green eyes looking up, he begins, "He didn't mean—"

"No. I know what he meant, Jake. You're all a bunch of cowards. You're all too goddamn scared to admit that maybe you're not doing as much good as you thought over there, and so you just justify it by saying all killing is good killing, right?" you spit.

His vibrant green eyes harden but he doesn't respond. "That's some real goddamn honor, right, Jake?" you repeat, angrier this time, wanting more than just some watered down reaction from him. If there's one thing that pisses you off about Jake, it's that you've never gotten anything more than what he's conditioned himself to respond with. It's like he's locked up in this stupid box of his and the most you can ever get out of him is a glance. You want him to be angry with you.

"That's enough." His jaw is tight, and you can tell that even despite his lowered voice and rather subdued demeanor, you've hit a nerve.

"Admit it. Admit that you—“

"(Y/n)." His voice adopts a seriousness that you've never heard from him before. It sounds almost dangerous.

Jake steps towards you and for a moment you think you've won. And then in the moment following that, you actually think that he's going to get physically angry with you. Your heart stalls. Jake's a big guy, a naval aviator, and no matter how good he sells himself to be, he could hurt you if he wanted too. You would never have pegged him as someone who would put his hands on a girl, even after only knowing him for a week, but a man is a man, perfectly ironed uniform or not.

Only he doesn't. Instead he steps into your space and leans in closer than you've  ever been before. His hand presses into your back, firmly pulling you into his chest so that you have no choice but to shift closer to him, your bodies molding together. "I said that's enough. They can see us arguing."

The press of his mouth to your ear conceals the exchange of your conversation from the listening table. You can smell his cologne on the starched collar of his uniform.

"I don't care if they see us—" Pushing your palm into his chest, you try to reestablish the distance between you, but like a brick wall, Jake doesn't budge.

"You realize that we have to make this look real?" he hisses. "From here on out, they're watching everything we do. The government is watching everything we do. Do you understood that?" His voice is tense, and it sounds more urgent than angry now.

Standing there, you realize his heart is thumping heavily beneath your palm. His body is uncomfortably rigid, like a scared dog waiting for its owner to show up and see the mess he's made. Behind you, the table has gone relatively quite. Rooster murmurs something along the lines of, "It's a little early for there to be trouble in paradise already."

Someone—Coyote—responds, "I don't think he thought this through, man. They won't last two weeks."

Jake's eyes meet yours, and you know he can hear them too. You swallow, trying to relax a little in his grasp. He's right, you have to make this look real, and fighting right off the bat doesn't exactly look good.

"Are they still looking at us?" You finally ask, leery now to even speak too loud.

Jake breathes a sigh of relief beside your ear, taking your sudden quiet as cooperation. "Yeah, just keep talking, okay? Act like we're working it out."

Despite trying to appear more comfortable than you are, you don't move your hand from his chest. The coarse material of his dress whites rises and falls steadily beneath your palm. It's calming in a sense, and you try to focus on its rhythm rather than the fact that you're so close that you can feel the heat of his mouth beside your ear.

"Still looking?" You ask after a few moments pass.

He hums. "Yep."

"Well then what do we do? We can't just stand like this forever." The longer you stand together, the more details you become aware of. Like the fact that his face is freshly shaven against your cheek and that he must have brushed his teeth before this because his breath smells like Listerine.

"Look at me."

"What?" You ask, your brow furrowing as he pulls away. His hand that had been holding your waist firmly in place lifts to grip your jaw.

"You're going to have to kiss me," he explains, glancing briefly over your shoulder.

"What?" Before you can even protest, he's leaning in and pressing his mouth to yours. Without the time to process what exactly is happening given your state of alarm, all you can do is go along with it. His lips mold against yours in what might be the most borderline tame kiss you've ever had. Despite this, you are reluctantly surprised to note how good of a kisser he is. It's just forceful enough to let you know he's in control but not so much that it's unpleasant. His lips are full and taste vaguely of his mouth wash.

You don't kiss him back.

It makes no difference to the group behind you whether you actually kiss or not; they can't tell from this distance and all they have to do is believe it happened. It's more for your own self preservation than anything. It's one thing to play the part, it's another thing to get caught up in it and catch feelings. And with Jake Seresin, that was a dangerous game to play. You'd already felt it, him prying his way under your skin when he'd held you at the table and the smell of his cologne filled your sense. It would be that easy.

To his credit, Jake lingers just long enough to make the kiss believable before pulling away. Even si, it still feels uncomfortably long. He leans back and you don't miss the fact that he wipes his hand across his mouth. "Sorry," he mutters under his breath, looking away.

"Jake..." you begin, immediately feeling bad, but he stops you.

"Whatever, (Y/n). It's fine." He won't look you in the eyes now. You turn to look over your shoulder, desperate to get yourself out of this increasingly bad situation .

"They're not looking," you say, finding the table now amicably chatting with each other rather than focused on the two of you. The sudden PDA must have finally diverted their attention. "...you can step away now."

"Right," he says, clearing his throat awkwardly. Jake drops his hand from your waist and steps back like he's glad to finally put some distance between the two of you. So much for making this look natural.

You return to the table shortly after, in hand to make it appear as if you've made up and smiling tightly when Bob cheerily welcomes you back to break the awkward silence. Once seated, you drop each other's hand beneath the table immediately. The rest of the evening is spent avoiding contributing to conversations that involve the other. If anyone notices, they don't comment on the fact that the two of you hardly look at each other for the rest of the evening, and somehow you manage to put up an otherwise happily married front.

When a few of the guys finally get a little bit too drunk, specifically Rooster, you're all too happy when Natasha calls it a night. Because they ship out the next day, Jake drives you back to the hotel where all of the married couples have rented out a room for the night. Apparently it's a tradition or something. You make the drive in silence. You let him check into the room and carry both of your bags up, disappearing into the small bathroom to splash cool water onto your face. It helps to ease some of the tension from this evening. Leaning over the sink, you watch the water swirl down the drain.

Is this crazy? This is crazy, right?

Jake is sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands when you step out. He's taken off his hat and suddenly he seems a lot more fragile than he was a few minutes ago. There's a softness to him, something having been previously concealed by the precise styling of his hair and tense pull of his set jaw. Before you can break the silence, he sucks in an uneasy breath.

"Hey, we need to talk about something. Um, you know... in case I..."

In case he doesn't come back.

You swallow, looking down at the ground. After tonight, after he's kissed you, all of this is starting to feel a little bit to real. What the hell happened to pretending? This was all supposed to be pretend. "Jake, please don't do that—"

He stands up from the end of the bed, and you notice the folded paper in his hands. "This is all of my personal information, you know, bank accounts, passwords, phone numbers... Anything you might need if something happens to me." He says it all as if it's so normal, but you can hear the apprehension in the thinness of his voice.

Already, you're shaking your head as he hands you the letter. "Jake, please. I don't want that." Your heart is pounding and all you want to do in the moment is go back in time and never have agreed to do this in the first place. This was insane. What were you thinking? Like you were going to put yourself through this again? 

"(Y/n)—“ Jake tries, interrupting your spiral of thoughts.

"I said NO, Jake," you snap, stepping back from him and the letter. There are tears burning at the backs of your eyes, like you might burst into a hit of hysteria at any moment. "I change my mind. I can't do this..."

Jake's eyes glance from you to the paper in his hand and then back to you, and then he drops his outstretched arm with what sounds like a laugh. "Right. Not like we're fuckin' married or anything." He releases a puff of air from his cheeks and runs his hand through his hair like he's contemplating pulling it out. "Do you know how screwed we are if anyone finds out about this? Do you, (Y/n)??" he asks, his voice rising to a concerning level. "We're done!" 

"Jake, I—"

He tosses the letter onto the bed and sits back down with a heavy sigh, looking down at his feet. When he finally speaks again, his voice had lowered to a more acceptable volume. "It's a bit too late for you to back out now. If the Navy finds out about this— if anyone one finds out about this, I could lose my job. We could both go to jail."

Silence settles over the two of you as Jake sits on the bed, staring at his feet, and you stand there in the middle of the room, willing your heart to stop pounding in your chest. You need to get out of here before your heart implodes. You turn and grab your coat from by the door.

"Where are you going?"  Jake asks, his voice tired and annoyed.

"I need some air," you say, shrugging on your coat and opening the door. He doesn't try to stop you on the way out. 

You regret the decision the second that you walk out the door. Now that the sun is gone, it's freezing outside. Your original plan had been to go for a walk to clear your head but you doubt now you'd make it very far. Walking down the stairs and out into the nearly empty parking lot, you look around, considering whether or not you would survive the trek to a gas station. When you realize you've left your phone back in the room, you decide against it. You aren't dumb enough to walk in the dark alone. Instead you head towards Jake's truck, which is parked out by itself at the end of the lot. To your surprise, you find it's unlocked and the door swings open when you tug on the handle. You climb in and the switch to lock the door behind you. Even the inside of the car is cold but at least it's out of the wind. You hug your knees into your check and tuck your chin into them, curling up in the driver's seat to keep warm.

And then you just sob.

It's the kind of sobbing that starts long and drawn out and then escalates into the rapid breathing that happens when you can't get enough air into your lungs and it feels as though there's an entire golf ball stuck in your throat. You haven't cried this hard since you were a kid—since your first brother died. You didn't cry the second time, didn't allow yourself to feel anything the second time because you knew there wasn't going to be anyone to pull you back together if you did. 

At least being away from all of this had allowed you some time to forget, even if for just a moment, that they were gone without having to be constantly reminded. You had moved to put as much distance between yourself and the Navy as possible. Because that way life wouldn't get the chance to take another person from you in the same way. Looking at the ring on your finger now, that's exactly the opposite of what you had just done. This was just supposed to be until you could get back on your feet, and if it helped Jake out in the process then great. Now that you think about it, it was stupid of you to think that you would be able to make it through this with out catching feelings for him. 

Now you're going to lose him too.

You cry until you almost make yourself sick and then some more. Your sobbing is interrupted every few minutes when you choke on your own air and have to swallow the golf ball that is lodged in your throat so that you can breathe. You're not sure how long you sit there just crying. Surely at least an hour has passed. By the time your sobbing has slowed, your head hurts and your chest aches enough to be sore.

Knock knock knock

You jump at the noise, head shooting up from between the bracket of your knees. It's dark outside, the parking lot just barley lit in a wash of grey by the moon. Even so, you can make out Jake's broad figure in the darkness.

"Open the damn door." His order comes out in a puff of frosty condensation that warms a spot on the window, his voice only partially muffled by the barrier. His shoulders are hunched against the cold, the upturned collar of his coat doing little to protect him from the brutal conditions.

For a while you just stare at him through the window, swallowing back the spit in your throat.

"Open the door," he repeats, knowing better than to think that you can't hear him. If only locking yourself in his car was the solution of all of your problems. Reluctantly, you reach over and click the lock, slowly rolling down the window.

After it stops, you stare at each other through the open car window, separated only by the frame of door that he could now easily reach out and open. His soft brown hair is mushed and in disarray, nose and cheeks tinted pink form the chill. The pleasant green of his eyes is mostly hidden as he squints against the wind.

Finally, you suck in a breathe, your chest shuddering. "I cannot do this," you stress, all of the fear that you've been shoving down now presenting itself in a singular sentence.

Jake sighs, his face softening to reflect a look of sympathy. "Look, I promise you, it's not that bad. You'll come with me to the carrier when I ship out tomorrow, we'll hug each other goodbye, and then you won't even have to see me for a couple of months. It'll be like none of this ever happened. And when I come back... we'll figure it out. Okay?" His voice is soft and understanding, like he's talking to a child.

You stare at the dashboard, your stomach still churning anxiously. "That's not what I'm... It's not you, Jake." Quite the opposite. "I lost my brothers to the Navy. Both of them. And I don't think I can take losing anyone else."

Immediately Jake's face falls as he puts everything into place. Your initial distaste for him, your furious outburst at Hard Deck, your reluctance to have have anything to do with the Navy... "I—God, I'm so sorry, (Y/n). I had no idea."

You shrug, calming down now that you've finally let go over everything that you've been holding in. "I asked Natasha not to tell you. I just thought that I could get over it so what was the point in even telling you?"

The wind blowing into through the open window is bone chilling and so you can only imagine how cold Jake is standing outside the car. For a while there's only the sound of his quiet breathing.

"Nothing's going to happen to me, (Y/n)," he says into the darkness.

"How can you be so sure?"

Hands shoved into his pockets, body braced against the wind, he shrugs. "I'm not. But if I didn't tell myself that every morning, I'd never get out of bed."

Sighing, you pull the handle on the inside of the door. "C'mon, it's fucking cold out there."

Jake huffs as if to say, you're telling me, and grabs the handle to pull open the door. Only instead of climbing in, he steps further inside the door and grabs your head in his cold hands so that your faces are mere inches apart. "I mean it, kid. I'm not going to leave you, alright? You just gotta trust me."

Looking into his eyes, you know he means it. For the second time since you've known Jake, you really see him. Standing before you is the same man that you saw in both of your brothers. Granted, they were much younger than he is now, but you get it. You'd been trying to see him as anyone else other than the brothers you lost, praying that it would hurt less, but you can't make someone into something they're not. 

"Okay," you whisper. "I trust you, Jake."

You're awake hours earlier than what you're used to in the morning, but that's only because you had glanced at the alarm clock at half past three and realized that you only had few hours left with Jake. The both of you had returned to the hotel room and changed in comfortable silence, slipping into the single bed together without a word. Jake had reached over and pulled you into him without so much as a second thought. Now his body is draped heavily on top of yours, his nose tucked into your hair as your fingers trace along the bare skin of his exposed back. 

You switch between staring at the ceiling and watching the numbers change on the alarm clock, trying to think about anything other than the fact that Jake would wake up in about an hour, you'd drop him off at the carrier at six, and that would be it. You'd only just gotten him and now you were going to have to let him go.

When Jake's alarm does go off, you're more emotional than you thought you would be, but Jake seems to be fine, dutifully putting on his uniform and carefully packing all of his bags, so you try to put on a brave face. You move slowly, dragging out the process of getting dressed as long as possible just so that there's no excuse to leave for the dock any sooner than you have too. After you're done getting ready, you watch him shave once and then again for good measure before he ultimately decides that you've both wasted enough time putting off the inevitable.

The drive there is silent as well and would have been unbearable had Jake not reached over the consol to reassuringly squeeze your hand. He doesn't let go of it until you pull into the crowded port. Between people trying to get their things on board and a bunch of teary goodbyes, it's beyond you how you manage to find the Dagger Squad in the midst of the chaos. Fanboy and Payback are saying goodbye to their families while Rooster and Natasha chatter excitedly with an older man also dressed in naval attire, the name plate on his uniform identify him as 'Maverick'. It's all so overwhelming that only when Jake squeezes your hand again do you realize that it's time for you to say goodbye.

Reluctantly, you turn towards him, interlocked hands swinging between the two of you. He does his best to smile, and to his credit, it's not entirely fake. "Well," he sighs. "This it it."

"For now," you add, returning his soft smile as you look up at him.

"For now," Jake agrees, his smile brightening now that you seem to be okay also. He pauses, just staring down at you for a moment before he adds, "Are you going to let me kiss you?"

You smile, answering him this time without hesitation. "Only if you keep your promise."

Jake's large hand comes up to cup your cheek, cradling your chin in his palm as he leans down to you. "I promise," he murmurs before pressing his mouth to yours, perhaps even more tender than he did the first time at Hard Deck. Only this time you reciprocate it, chasing his mouth as you lift up on your toes and run your fingers through the back of his hair. Groaning, Jake sighs into the kiss. It's dizzying and you don't know how it's possible to put all of the passion that you've been holding back into one kiss, but somehow you do. His lips are soft and you have to shove down the urge to grip his hair and demand him for more, because it by some miracle occurs to you that you're on a ship in front of hundreds people. 

Jake's the one to pull away, his eyes shining and pink lips slightly more swollen than they were a minute ago. You can't help but laugh, wiping away some of your lipgloss from his mouth with your thumb. "Goodbye, Jake."

"Goodbye, (Y/n). And don't forget, I'll see you soon."

[lady-ace]

Injustice Spirit

(Injustice Ghost, part two)

(I'm so happy for the support on the first part, i'm glad you all liked it! :) Anyways, heads up again, this will talk about what happened to Billy in injustice, have some blood, and angst.)

According to the other members of the League, Diana is the last person the ghost showed himself to.

The Leaguers don't even got to ask the boy's name, as after he appeared to Clark, he stayed silent, ever watching. Arthur has said he's been feeling watched lately, same with Barry, Hal and Bruce.

They all started to notice scratch marks appearing on some places. The Zeta tubes, by example. The scratch marks look like somebody desperately scratched at it after failing to operate the Zeta, and was trying to get out.

Diana sighed, walking to the observation deck. Maybe watching the vastness of space and the bright stars will clear her mind?

When she arrived, she noticed someone sitting on the floor by one of the big windows, looking outside, hand on the reinforced glass.

“It's the ghost.”

Was Dianas first thought upon seeing him. The ghost was indeed as small as everyone said he was, and even more frail. He looked like if a strong bit of wind would knock him over, if ghosts could even be knocked over or touched by the wind.

Melancholy was clear on the spirit's face, reflected by the glass. He seemed not to notice Diana walked in, even though her reflection should be on the glass, too. Maybe he was deep in thought.

Diana didn't want to interrupt the poor boy, but he seemed just.. so lonely. Bruce had said that everyone's accounts, except for Clark's and Barry's, were extremely brief encounters. No words were exchanged, only the brief surprise of encountering the ghost, and him being surprised at being seen, before vanishing yet again.

The sound of Diana's boots echoed against the silence of the room as she approached the ghost as silently as she could, not wanting to scare him.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?”

Diana said, as the spirit's head snapped to her in an instant, startled even though she said it as calm and as quiet as she could.

The ghost watched her like a wounded animal, wary, and looking for any reason to bolt. Yet, he didn't. He wordlessly nodded, and Diana looked at the glass once again.

“The stars are so bright. Sometimes, i still stop just to admire how pretty they are.”

She mused, as the stars seemed to shine brighter in response to her compliment.

The ghost (They really needed to find out his name. it seemed so wrong to just call someone 'the ghost' or 'the boy' all the time.) seemed to think, but his head didn't leave Diana's direction, so she assumed he was still looking at her, shoulders looking tense.

..Until suddenly, they weren't as tense, as he relaxed a littlest bit.

“You really aren't anything like her.”

The ghost noted, his words repeating in a echo. Diana didn't how what he meant. Maybe she reminded him of somebody he used to know?

“You're good. Strong, but not evil. A inspiration, a hero. You're what she should have been. What she once was.”

Is what the ghost followed up with, his voice choked. The boy's arms started to shake.

Diana looked at the poor soul in front of him with concern. Who was 'she'? Did she hurt him? Is 'she' the one who killed him? So many questions, yet none of those she would have asked. He doesn't need questioning, he obviously needs someone to be there for him. To hear him.

“I'm sorry.”

Is what Diana started with, as the ghost looked up at her. She just knew that if the ghost had eyes, he would be holding tears back as she spoke.

“I may not know who you're talking about, but she doesn't sound lovely. I'm sorry you had an bad experience with her.”

That seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back, as a choked sob left the ghost, his whole body now shaking, small droplets of blood leaving the holes of where his eyes should be, imitating tears.

He threw himself at Diana, hugging her, as if he let go, she would be gone. His small figure shaking like a leaf as sniffles and sobs left him. Interestingly enough, he seemed somewhat more solid, and didn't phrase right through Diana, like what happened to Clark.

“You're g-good, right? Y-you wouldn't..”

He said between sobs. Diana noticed that her clothes and armour would be very bloody with tears, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She slowly hugged the crying boy back, using one hand to run her fingers through the small boy's hair, hoping to calm his desperate sobs down.

“T-they used me. I was b-blind and d-dumb and so stupid and..”

The boy continued, not letting go of the hug but now trying to look up at Diana.

Diana shot him a look that she hoped was comforting. She may not know what happened to him, but he clearly needed to get this out. The poor boy seemed to hesitate for a bit.

“You aren't dumb or stupid. Please, don’t beat yourself up like that, dear.”

That seemed to give the boy courage, as he let go of one hand to wipe away tears with his sleeve, the bright red hoodie now having a bit of blood on it.

“I-i thought we were doing the right thing..”

The spirit said, looking up at Diana. He couldn't look smaller like this, and it breaks Diana's heart.

“T-they called themselves heroes. Nobody stopped him.. they just... watched.”

Oh. Is the poor boy a villain victim? The thought of failing someone like him, leading to his death, hurt Diana even more. She didn't know the boy, but she would be damned if she let anyone ever hurt him again. And so, she hug him a little bit tigher, whispering encouragements as the boy paused to sob, his face now running with the bloody tear tracks.

“Grundy w-was the one who buried me. i n-never went home.”

That seemed to remind the ghost of something. Diana frowned. Who did that? Who was cruel enough to let someone like Grundy bury a child?

“Oh g-gods i never went home. M-Mary.. F-Freddy.. t-they're all still waiting.”

Oh.

He had a family. A family who didn't know he was murdered in cold blood and let to be buried by a villain. She didn't think this could get worse, but yet, it kept getting worse.

“T-they're still in the danger.. AND I CAN'T HELP THEM!”

This launched the ghost to a panic, pushing himself off the hug as he grasped his head. Diana felt so impossibly lost. She wanted to help him, but she didn't know what to or not to say- the poor ghost just realized his family probably just thought he was missing, and, according to him, were also in danger.

Diana grasped his shoulder gently as the spirit started to hyperventilate.

“Hey, hey. Could you look at me?”

Shakily, the ghost's head turned to her.

“Thank you. Could you imitate my breathing?”

Diana inhaled, then exhaled slowly, trying to get the ghost to copy her. When she noticed he was trying to, she smiled.

“Yes, just like that. You're doing great.”

The spirit continued until his breathing leveled up again and he slumped against Diana, utterly exhausted.

“I'm sorry.”

He apologized, wiping his bloody tears yet again, this time with the other sleeve.

Diana simply hugged him again.

“You don't need to apologize for anything, sweetheart. You did nothing wrong.”

The boy slowly nodded, and seemingly fell asleep, utterly exhausted, probably both mentally and phisically.

“I promise i won't be like those who hurt you. Nobody will ever hurt you again, if i have anything to say about it.”

She pet him, now looking up the glass, at the stars.

They truly looked beautiful.

/ / /

(Part 2 done! This will have a part 3, and it will be the final part.)

[cuppajj]

Thoughts about BY 5 and 6

So I finished the episode at an unhealthy morning hour, and now after getting my full sleep, I can fully share my thoughts!

And of course, spoilers for the newest episode!

First things first, I want to talk about Burning Spice himself. A while back, I made a post about my hopes for him and how I didn’t want him to be a temperamental meathead, but instead a smart and calculating person who took from his extensive knowledge of history to psychologically destroy as much as physically. Did we get that?

Kinda, kinda not. Spice isn’t another Purple Yam like I’d hoped, he has more character than being just angry, but the hotheadedness does remain most of the way through. He reminds me of a strongman anime villain, the kind whose braun speaks more than brain, but still capable of strategy. Most of that strategy comes from Nutmeg Tiger though, as Spice is mostly interested in fighting Cheese from beginning to end. There’s no moment where he messes with her mind directly and picks apart her vulnerabilities beyond surface level “you hold things dear to you that I will destroy”. Which, implication is that he was more focused on just fighting, which in the context of how/why he is the way he is, kinda makes sense.

And about that, I’ll address it briefly: So we learn that Spice’s corruption, at least the straw that broke the camel’s back, was that he got bored watching history unfold. I think it’s very cool! While I was interested in a little more nuance behind his boredom, sometimes villains don’t need a complex reason for why they do what they do. It does make Spice less sympathetic than Mystic Flour though, so it seems like not all Beasts may be equal in cause and backstory. However, stuff about him may be explored later, since he’s going to be back.

So I would say that Spice isn’t as one note as I’d hoped, but he is a simple villain. A simple and very very fun and scary villain, but there could’ve been a lot more to his character in this story that made it lacking for me. I know BY chapters are usually short, but there could’ve possibly been more time showing the parallels between him and Cheese beyond a dialogue or so. It would’ve been really cool if Spice addressed those directly, using it against Cheese. Making her rethink/relive the trauma of losing everyone and mentally destroying her… like what if there was an exchange in the prison cell when she was at her lowest? What if Smoked Cheese had either been incapacitated and unable to speak, or in a separate cell so Cheese could be entirely at the Beast’s mercy? (We DID get a bit of that when Cheese realized how apathetic he was and what he saw in her soul jam, but that was more of a disgusted shock than a mental breakdown.) Smoked could help her out of her turmoil later (an exchange between him and Spice could’ve also been awesome), but Spice leaving mental damage on Cheese would’ve further spread the idea that he also values breaking things internally.

But, I guess Spice is just destroy destroy destroy to the point where he doesn’t really care about anything else, which is… fine. Admittedly not my cup of tea because it’s so basic, but it doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy his motivation. I hope we get a little more nuance next time we see him.

Anyway love these sprites!! I wished we got more related to the first two, it shows a mellower and/or ironically colder side of him that I think would’ve really helped amplify his fear factor. Spice is all fun and destruction but the oh shit comes from him showing more of the calculated side he used to have.

But speaking of Golden Cheese, I’ll talk about her next.

Overall I really liked her story here! I love seeing her in action and on her own, and her interactions with Smoked Cheese were fun to see! Smoked Cheese was extra fun, I loved how he had sass while still caring for people beyond his kingdom’s entourage (his voice and mannerisms remind me of tfp knockout it’s crazy). I was also happy to learn how the soul cheese worked, since that was a question I had from last episode. It appears Smoked isn’t in his body, but his soul is projecting a physical form given mass that relies on Golden Cheese’s power. Very interesting, and I wonder if he’s just going to stay out now, or if he’ll return? And what of the others too…

Now, something I will say about Cheese is that while her character arc made sense for her in a bubble, I feel a similar thing like I did with Spice that it could’ve been much better. Personally, while Cheese staying true to her greediness and immense care for her treasures is a good thing to power her up, I don’t think it made her as bigger a person than Spice than she could’ve. What would’ve been cooler and more thematic for her character would’ve actually been accepting that destruction and the loss of things she cares about is a natural part of life.

What I mean by this is that while Spice embodies destruction, Cheese essentially embodies creation, which are two polar opposites that have their place in the universe. Antagonizing one or the other should come with a deeper approach to the message, and frankly, antagonizing destruction in its entirety is a very black and white angle. Destruction can be inherently bad and tragic, yes, but it can also pave the way for new life and new things to be created. Plantlife grows back after a forest fire. You can build something better upon the ruins of what was before. For Cheese, her kingdom could’ve been lost/destroyed, but she could’ve accepted it and strove for a newer and better kingdom. Which, in some parts she did, but my philosophy also applies to people lost too.

Death and destruction was a prominent theme in Cheese’s backstory, and much of her Golden City arc was confronting that. I suppose this is a separate talk for another time, but to put it simply, she didn’t have an arc about accepting those who were lost, moreso about striving to bring those who were lost back. The story ended with her promising to bring her friends back, instead of accepting that she lost them and focusing her strength on protecting those she still has with her. That last part could’ve actually been what the Spice story led to, with her first wanting to find a way to bring everyone back, but deciding by the end of it that she can protect the memory of her kingdom along with the living friends she still has. Smoked Cheese could’ve even helped her with that, showing that he cares for her over himself, leading to a heartfelt goodbye between the two. This is just a wishful image, but it would’ve been a really good way for CRK to tackle a deep theme and touch a lot of people’s feelings. But what we got was a lot simpler, with both Spice and Cheese’s characters and themes, which I guess makes sense. Some stories (or the game itself) don’t really want to be anything super deep in narrative, and that’s fine as long as they’re still fun, which this was.

Lastly I will say, I fear the awakening thing will get a little predictable and repetitive from here on out. Beast is a threat for the first chapter, continues to be a threat up until Ancient does a power of love and friendship introspection and transforms into a stronger version of themself. I hope one of them will be a little subversive in this—I don’t know how, I just hope these great stories aren’t bogged down by predictability!

But anyway, those are my thoughts about BY 5 and 6. Overall a great story, I’m so happy to get Spice and Cheese action because they’re two of my favorites, Smoked Cheese was fun, and I’m looking forward to the new Shmilk stuff we will be getting around the anniversary. After that I really hope Eternal Sugar is next, I have a bunch of thoughts/hopes for them too!!

Anyway thanks for reading!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for going off on a tattoo artist for giving me the wrong mandarin letters?

Context matters a lot here. I (23ftm) recently lost my partner to cancer. They were the love of my life and I dropped everything for them- I moved states away from my family so that they could be more comfortable in a dryer climate, I made sure to be there for them through thick and thin- the works. My family, though sad, were okay with it since I had never been so passionate about anything before I met them. Losing them has been nothing short of miserable.

They were Chinese and had a very strong connection to their language and culture, so I wanted to get a tattoo that translated to "My angel, my love" with "my angel" being on the top and "my love" being on the bottom onto my arm. I wasn't able to learn any dialects from them while they were alive since things had been so busy, but I thought maybe at least I could start with this.

So, I went to a local tattoo parlor that had a Chinese tattoo artist (I hope it isn't racist to assume, I've heard him speaking in Mandarin on the phone) and asked to get the translation tattooed. He seemed genuine and we got to work with choosing a font, the right location, and scheduling an appointment. It was very professional and I was really glad that it had gone smoothly since if it hadn't, I'd probably just give up entirely.

A week passes and I get my tattoo. A bit after as we're talking about it, I mention that I got it to commemorate my late partner, whom like I said I consider to be the light of my life. When I mentioned that, he sort of paused and had this look on his face, like when you realize you forgot something really important. He shook it off though and we got back to talking, but things seemed obviously more awkward now.

When I went home I sent a picture of it to my partner's family, and immediately they picked up that something was wrong. They didn't tell me what it had actually translated to, but it was apparently very inappropriate and disrespectful.

Needless to say I was breaking down. My partner had died, I was struggling with depression and fatigue from handling a lot of the funeral procedures, and overall that had been the straw that broke the camel's back. This is where I may be the asshole. I drove back to the parlor shop and found my tattoo artist, and I didn't get physical, but I had definitely wanted to. I was yelling at him, screaming about how he was a horrible shitty person, the works. He argued back that I should have at least given him a reason for the tattoo, since he gets white people coming in all the time asking for dumb stuff, but I shot back that he could have at least told me what he had done when I did reveal why I got the tattoo.

Again, I didn't get physical, but they did threaten to call the cops on me if I didn't leave since I wss making a scene, so I left and later emailed that I had at the very least wanted a refund, since they didn't even give me the tattoo I wanted. I still haven't gotten a response yet.

My family (both biological and in-laws) are very conflicted over this. Some of them think that I could have dealt with it a lot better, while others think I should have threatened them with a lawsuit (obviously there's inbetween opinions but those are the main two extremes). I can't afford a lawsuit considering I'm already dealing with the funeral funds like I said, but I don't know. I don't even know if yelling at the guy made me feel better or worse- it was an in-the-moment response to be sure.

So, with more context, AITA for yelling at the tattoo artist who gave me an inappropriate tattoo instead of the one I really wanted?

What are these acronyms?

[world-of-aus]

Alway's There

Pairing: Bestfriend!Bucky x Bestfriend!Reader

Warnings: A teeny sprinkle of angst. Sweet moments with Bucky Barnes.

Author's Note: My possibly poor attempt at returning to writing? Back to the abyss i go!

Another failed date. 

You trudged the stairs up to your apartment, heels in one hand, your shared key in the other. The feeling of disappointment looming over you like a dark cloud with each step up the flight of stairs you took closer to your landing. 

The self-deprecating part of your mind wrapped its clawed hand around your throat ‘maybe it is you’ it whispered harshly into your ear. And with each failed date, try as you may to shake the feeling you were beginning to believe maybe it was. 

 Tonight? The straw that broke the camel's back. 

Forcing yourself up the last step your bare feet hit the wooden landing of your floor carrying you the rest of the distance to your apartment door. You stop a foot away from the pristine white door letting out a silent breath of air, your eyes slipping shut as you let the disappointment of the evening wash over you. 

Maybe it was time to take a break you thought as you willed the feeling away, you knew your family and friends meant well but you weren’t sure you could bear another let down. You were growing tired of putting in your all only to be met with less of the effort you put in.  

“The night’s still young,” you told yourself as you slid your house key into the door unlocking it “the couch and a glass of wine is calling your name you -” your words fail you, your steps halting at the open threshold, hand frozen on the door as you take in the sight before you. 

Bucky stands by the couch, popcorn bowl in hand, his eyes sincere, smile warm and comforting, “there’s a glass of wine on the table for you,” he speaks softly, “wasn’t sure what movie you would want for the night, but it is your night to choose, go get comfortable,” he adds with a tilt of his head to the hallway where your rooms are, “I’ll be waiting.” 

“How did you?” is all you can manage as you push the door shut. 

He shakes his head, smile tugging at his lips ever so slightly, “I was hoping I would be wrong and that I would have to eat all this popcorn by myself; I know how much you were looking forward to this date – just wanted to have something ready for you in case it hadn’t gone to plan.” 

Your heels fall to the floor with a thud as you close the distance between you and your best friend your arms going around his neck. The comforting weight of his arm against your back has you letting out a shaky breath, “thank you.” He presses his lips to the side of your head, “no need to thank me you would have done the same for me sweetheart, now go get in your pj’s and you can tell me all about it.” 

“Jesus,” Bucky breathed, “He might as well have just gone on a date with his secretary, what the hell was he thinking talking about another women the whole night!” 

“That’s exactly how I felt!” you groaned grabbing a handful of popcorn, “and apparently nothing because no matter how I tried to redirect our conversation it was always ‘oh she loves that,’ or ‘oh that’s her favorite too.’ or ‘Oh what do you think about this, she thinks this.’” You shake your head, picking at the popcorn in your hand, “I just don’t get it, like is it me? Is something wrong with me? This is the fifth failed date this month.” 

“Hey, c’mon now don’t say that,” he comforts, hand finding your leg, “if anything’s wrong it’s the guys you’re going on dates with not being able to see what’s right in front of them sweetheart.  Maybe it’s time you try a different approach, these meatheads just don’t seem to be cutting it, you need someone who’s going to see you.” 

You see me, you think, your heart pattering away in your chest as you take in the broad man sat on the couch with you, the sweet words he shares, the night he put together in case it all went wrong. Why couldn’t it have been him? Why couldn’t he be yours?  

He squeezes your leg, concern in his gaze, “hey, what’s wrong?” 

You shake your head the gloomy feeling threatening to return, now was not the time to think of your best friend. “Nothing B, m’just tired is all, I’m fine though, I promise.” 

You know he doesn’t believe you when he plucks the bowl from between you leaning forward to place the bowl on the coffee table. He’s opening his arms to you a moment later fingers wiggling you to come closer, “c’mere,” he beckons. 

“Buck,” you laugh, “I said I’m fine.” 

His hands are on you, “you’ve never been able to lie to me, come here,” he chuckles pulling until your moving, molding into his warm embrace. His head rests over yours, hands running along your back comfortingly.  

“I really am fine, I  just think it's time to put the idea of finding someone right now on the back burner,” you murmur melting further into his side, “ I’m honestly tired of disappointment after disappointment, the only time I’m not disappointed is once I get home, which again thank you,” you say leaning back slightly to meet his gaze, “you didn’t have to but it means so much that you did this – that you thought of me.” 

“You’ve done the same for me y/n, every failed date you were right here sitting, waiting with chips and a beer ready to hear all about my night. Even the ones I thought went well only to never hear from them again you were right here.” 

“I swear those women were blind as bats to pass you up.” 

His chuckle rumbles in his chest, “feelings mutual sweetheart.” 

Your head finds his shoulder, his head falling over yours once more, “Hey should we adopt a cat?” 

“Adopt a cat?” he questions. 

“Yeah, so we can get started early,” you muse, your joke landing as you feel his laugh rumble against your side. 

“Yeah, yeah let’s adopt a cat.” he states matter of factly. 

You nearly knock him in the chin with how fast you move back to look at him, “wait really? We can really adopt a cat?” you gleam eyes bright. 

He laughs at your excitement, “Yes y/n, it’s a date, we can go adopt a cat.” 

Your breath catches in your throat, “a date,” you say tasting the words on your tongue. You’re not sure what to make of the expression on his features, your heart not allowing you to get your hopes up in fear of getting hurt. 

“Yes, a date, and hey If I mess it up, which something tells me that’s a long shot, at least I’ll know exactly how to remedy it.” 

Your heart pounds in your chest like a wild drum, you would swear you were dreaming if it weren’t for his very vivid warmth plastered against your side. “I don’t think you’ll need to,” is what you manage to say, because there was no way he could mess up when he’s been picking up everyone else’s failure. 

His smile is warm, you’ve never ached to kiss him more, “give me a few dates then you can decide yeah?” 

“A few dates?” you question, smile mirroring his own. 

“Yeah, let me be your different approach.” 

You grow shy under the intense sincerity of his gaze, your head finding his shoulder, as you breathed him in. “I’d really like that B,” you whisper after a moment. 

“I promise this won’t change the number of cats we adopt.” 

That has a fully belly laugh erupting past your lips, Bucky following suit as he pulls you closer.  

And it was in that moment that you realized you might already love him. 

[karma-vvitch]

l'amour de ma vie

Thought I was depressed or losing my mind My stomach upset almost all of the time But after I left, it was obvious why (oh), mm Because for you, you I was the love of your life, mm But you were not mine (but you were not mine)

𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: Angst

𝕻𝖆𝖎��𝖎𝖓𝖌: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘:  Hurt/No Comfort, Angst fest lmao, Bucky’s kinda a dick in this one (so for all the ppl who don’t like reading Bucky in a negative light, this isn’t for you babe. *I’m ppl), The reader is implied to be chubby/plus size, slight body insecurity, but I think reader girl bossed in this (maybe it’s just me), AGAIN THERE IS NO FLUFF HERE ABSOLUTELY NONE. 

“You ruined me” You glared at him “You ruined me, Bucky Barnes” It’s been 2 weeks and 3 days since Bucky broke up with me. The audacity of that man. I don’t know where it went wrong. Was it when he started coming home late? Or when he started sleeping on the couch? There were too many instances to count. I guess the straw that broke the camel’s back was when he left his phone on the counter, Sharon’s contact notification glowed brightly. “We should stop this” God I thought for once I wasn’t an idiot, but once again my ego was shattered. That fucker told me he loved me, all of me. From my smile, to my curves, to my thighs. And yet he still went for miss perfect. “Baby–” The asshole spoke. “Baby? Seriously Barnes? Trying to soften me up? We’re SO past that!” I laugh incredulously. Fighting the tears welling in my eyes. “You promised me! You dick! You promised me! You said you looked past this–” gesturing to my body “I thought you saw me for me, Bucky!” He looked embarrassed. Good. “Baby, can we please not do it here?” He looked around the common room we were standing in. The place occupied by the team who were in awe and disbelief on what’s going on. This bitch “Oh! You’re embarassed? Good, let them see your shame for the lying, cheating piece of shit that you are!” Gasps are echoed throughout the room. The woman in question as well, finally, looking away in shame. Bucky looked helpless. The severity of the situation finally hitting him like a freight train. “Please, it was a mistake. Yes, I’m a huge asshole for hurting you. You have all the right. I love you. What I did will haunt me for the rest of my life and I’m sorry–” tears flowing freely from his eyes at this point “I’m so so sorry” The sight before you could’ve made you fold easily. Bucky on his knees, grovelling. Your Bucky who held you when your friends abandoned you. Your Bucky who drove you to McDonald’s at 3am to get nuggets. Your Bucky who dropped everything just to go home and take care of you at your lowest. For a second you thought that everything happening at the moment was just a bad dream. He would never hurt you… But he did. His cries snapped you back to reality. “I broke up with you because I was a coward, I thought I could fix myself and come back to your life a better man– I should’ve told you sooner” All I could do is stare at him, emotionless and numb. What does one even do in this situation? The (once) love of your life, who has hurt you beyond any comprehension is grovelling at your feet. Should I say something? Should I lash out at him? Should I make him get up? It was all becoming too much In the end, I just turned my heel and left. The echoes of his increasing sobs and pleas following me. Good.

𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘: This may or may not be based on real-life... Oops. The angst gods were coursing through me ngl. I haven't written in months so this is exciting. The depression is still there and thriving but I'm not gonna let it stop me from doing what I love :>. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this. Hopefully, I get to write more Bucky stuff (I promise there will be more fluff. God knows this man deserves it). Anyway, hope y'all have a great day/night! xoxo

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: None yet!

[miirohs]

get up [b.c]

pairing: Mob Boss!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader wc: 3.4k cw: reader is sick, chan is slightly toxic, reader gets grabbed, I can’t write hurt comfort 😻 an: pls pls pls once again i do not support any sort of criminal activities and anything in this fic is meant to be treated as a work of fiction !!! Inspired by nwjs get up !

You ran down the slope down the street, heels in hand as the train of your dress flew behind you.

The night air cut into your cheeks and arms, cold and wild as it whistled into your ears. It had slipped your mind to bring a coat, but your first priority was to get out. You were sick of the party and its suffocating air.

The whole evening was a blur of insincere conversations with the fakest smile you could muster, and the growing feeling of being trapped. He wouldn’t stop ignoring you, but the straw that broke the camel's back was when he snapped at you for talking to someone else in the middle of the dance floor, leading all the eyes in the room to you.

You had begged and begged Chan not to bring you in the first place, but he was relentless. You never did well in social events anyways.

However being on the streets alone might have been better than being forced to stand there for another minute.

Your head pounded as your footsteps echoed in your ears, a scraping noise that hurt your brain. The street was dimly lit by golden lights, and as you looked ahead you could see the glimmer lights of the valley. It was buzzing with energy, a stark contrast of the neighborhood you bumbled through.

It was quiet, and yet the sounds of the town still reached you.

The cold was not helping any bit, leaving you shaking as you huddled yourself closer. Your vision blurred slightly when you stopped, bones aching as you stared into the distance.

For a while you were sure you were being followed, but the clattering of something metal behind you confirmed everything. Slowly, you took off your heels, holding them before you took off.

You ran for a while, breath caught painfully in your throat as you tried to hack out the cold air. You came to a stop on a bridge, hands on your knees as you panted. There seemed to be no indication of them, and you finally relaxed, dropping the straps of your heels.

There were two resounding shots in your direction all the sudden, and you stumbled over your train, hitting your knee weirdly on the ground as you tried to run.

The aggressors finally caught up, pressing something to the back of your neck as they muttered to each other in voices you could barely recognize in your dazed state.

From your place on the ground, the lights seemed to blend together. Your body ached, and tears seemed to slip from your eyes as you faced the ground.

“Oh god she’s crying- Minho, what the fuck are we suppose to do?”

“I don’t know Changbin. I think we should let Chan take care of her-”

Minho was immediately cut off by the sound of a car rolling up. The doors opened up and they both went silent, the person holding the gun to the back of your head moving back as another pair of footsteps joined the scene.

“Why is she crying? I thought I told you to bring her back without a single scratch.”

“It’s not our fault she started running! She’s the one who should know better!”

“Watch your mouth Lee Minho. We may be friends but that’s my girlfriend you’re talking about.”

You stiffened, hanging your head as he got closer, feeling his presence directly behind you. You didn’t say anything as he lifted you up, placing you in the car before slamming the door shut to talk to Minho and Changbin, who gave the car a slight look of concern before turning back to Chan.

Minutes seemed to turn into hours as he talked, your shaking slowly ceasing. The sudden change in temperature seemed to make the headache worse, and you gripped your head, curling into a ball. Your knee also didn’t help your case.

Finally he entered the car, stern silence spiraling as the driver started on Chan's command.

He finally broke the silence, tone cold and clipped as he watched you squirm into the corner of your seat.

“Do you know how much trouble you caused me back there?”

He was staring at you with an accusatory look when you looked away, staring at your hands to avoid his face.

"I... I didn't mean to cause any trouble," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper.

He tsked, expression unreadable as city lights passed by in a blur.

His voice was measured when he finally spoke, his words punctuated as you sped down the lane. "You didn't mean to cause trouble? Yet here we are."

You curled back into a ball, wincing when your knee jerked a little from the sudden movement. When you didn’t reply, he wrenched you forward slightly, causing you to let out a whimper.

“I hope you know the consequences you caused for me. I had to put three very important deals on hold because you just had to run away. Now, I expect you to be on your best behavior when we get home, and you better not interrupt me unless it's important.” He hissed, a dangerous look in his eyes.

He let go of your arm and leaned back, staring out the window. You rubbed it, throat heavy as you tried to say something back, eventually settling into the uncomfortable silence.

When you arrived home, he immediately left the car, handing his coat to an attendant left behind to handle you. You watched him disappear into the depths of the house, a sense of isolation settling in.

You felt so incredibly shitty, and it wasn’t just the cold, but the guilt and embarrassment racking up in your stomach.

"Come, let's get you inside and warmed up," the attendant said softly, guiding you gently towards the entrance of the huge mansion. The house seemed to settle into a quiet rhythm, the noise of the world outside a distant echo as you settled down for the night, heart heavy.

Whatever it was you had only seemed to worsen over the next few days though, the soreness of your throat and muscles only getting worse. It was constantly cold and your knee seemed to be acting up despite the care you tried to give it.

You managed to keep the symptoms under wraps, but you were so tired, barely catching a wink of sleep as you wandered aimlessly in the halls.

To add injury to the insult, Chan seemed to be ignoring you, avoiding you at all times of day and barely allowing you to catch a glimpse of him. As you tried to approach him, he’d always direct you to the nearest member, walking away with the others and leaving the both of you in an awkward situation.

It was the fourth day, and you were already tired of it. Again, it went as you predicted, with Chan leaving after a curt nod to poor Jeongin, who seemed tired of being sacrificed to the tension between the both of you.

You stood in front of him, wrapping the blanket tightly around you as Jeongin watched you awkwardly.

“I don’t bite,” you joked, voice raspy from the acheness of your throat.

“I know… I know I'm… just worried? Are you okay?” You blinked for a moment, processing the question before nodding vigorously as you could.

“Yep, mhm, totally! I’m going to be okay, now do you mind walking me to my room?” You said, looking at him expectantly.

Relaxing slightly, he signaled towards the hall, holding a reluctant hand out. "Of course, let's go."

Slowly, you both made your way through the mansion's corridors, your steps slow and deliberate. You think you had a cold but it was taking far too long to recover from whatever it was you caught.

You stopped in front of your door, and Jeongin let go, a passive look on his face as you opened the door with a whooping cough. The dizziness has returned, so you’d try your best not to make a spectacle out of it.

“T-thanks Innie, i’ll be fine," you managed to say, your voice rough and strained due to the coughing fit. You gave him a weak smile, sincere despite the physical discomfort.

Jeongin returned the smile, though it was faint. "Make sure to rest well and take care of yourself," he advised softly.

You tried to reply back, but suddenly the lightheadedness that was impending hit you, causing you to collapse. The sensation was disorienting, the black ebbing into the corner of your eyes. You could hear Jeongin yelling and shaking you, but you were too tired, closing your eyes in hope your rest would be at least a little nicer now.

——————

It was warm. Soft too.

You nuzzled your head into a pillow next to your face, groaning slightly. Everything felt heavy, and you barely felt like moving from the cocoon of warmth. You rested there for a couple heartbeats, curling into the blankets.

It was useless though, as the light of the room coaxed you out of your drowsiness. You pushed yourself up, closing your eyes as you felt your knee. There was a thick bandage over it that you hadn’t remembered putting on, and it wrapped tightly so the pressure would alleviate the pain.

“You’re awake.” Your eyes snapped open again, looking wildly around the room. “Over here,” You turned your head to the doorway, Chan leaning against it, tie loosened and sleeves rolled up. He had a bag in his hand, if you didn’t know any better you’d have thought he had been casually walking by when he decided to visit.

Suddenly, the thing that was bugging you hit you like a flash, and you took a good look around the room. “This isn't my room,” You whispered raspily, looking back down at the black sheets, “what am i doing here?”

“Jeongin saw you collapse, when I came in they told me you were dehydrated and sick. I told them to bring you here so that I could monitor you instead of forcing you to stay confined to your room,” Chan stated, putting down the things he’d brought in with him.

You fell silent as his revelation, picking at your nails as he shuffled around the room.

"I brought you some stuff to help with the cold," he said, voice rough. "You should try to eat something, even if it's just a little." You could have imagined you had heard a hint of remorse, but even if it was there, it was gone in a blink.

He sat down next to you, reaching over the blankets to pull you forward. You looked at his arm, covered in tattoos and faint scars. You could almost trace them from memory, having gone over them multiple times.

He immediately noticed you doing so, palm up and fingers spread, almost as if offering to let you trace his arm once again. You didn’t take him up on it though, only staring at him with a blank look on your face. Quickly, he drew back his hand, coughing into it to cover the awkwardness of the situation.

After a while, he broke the silence, tone slightly annoyed as he eyeballed you.

“So. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” You muttered, confused as you rolled your eyes at him.

“Tell me that you were-” He paused, running his hands through his curls with a certain frustration that seemed to roll off him. “That you were sick. You could have avoided this if you had just told me-”

“Who was the one that avoided me?” You said, glaring at him as he turned to you, face slowly contorting from the look of shock to audacity. His eyebrows furrowed as if your words had taken him by surprise. "What do you mean I avoided you? If you had told me-"

You cut him off, anger rising as he pranced around the topic. "You know exactly what I mean, Christopher. You've been avoiding me for days now. When was the last time you even said a small hi to me? You were being childish.”

He winced, obviously unpleased by the usage of his whole name.

“Look, we all mess up baby, and I'm sorry you can’t stop clinging to a mistake i made once-” You groaned, head once again pounding as you stared at his unapologetic face.

“You just don’t get it do you?”

“Excuse me?” Chan shot back, anger flaring up as he shot up out of his chair, smacking his hands on the bed.

“Leave me alone Chan, I don't want to hear it from you now! You never listen to me! Ever!” You snapped, breaking into a wild bout of coughs you’d been holding back. He rose up from his seat, nostrils flaring as he stomped over to the door.

“Fine, i’ll fucking leave you alone, maybe that’ll teach you to be nicer,” he spat, slamming the door shut, leaving you alone with the silence in the room.

It wasn't exactly how you could have envisioned the conversation going.

Eventually, the fatigue caught up with you, and you let your eyes close as you rested against the pillows. The pain in your knee that you thought had faded came back, intensifying with each passing moment and you weren’t sure you’d get a wink of rest after all that.

——————

It was roughly around the middle of the night when you woke up, head pounding. Your eyes blurred with tears, soft whimpers escaping your mouth.

You shivered under the blankets, disoriented and uncomfortable as you looked around the darkened room. The only light source was the opened curtains, the moon casting a shadow on the floor.

The door to the room opened, a soft golden light flooding in for a moment until it closed, footsteps echoing in your head. The lights beside you turned on, causing you to flinch as the light hurt your head even more.

A warm hand placed itself on your forehead, eventually moving to caress your cheek. Your body shivered involuntarily as another chill passed through you, making you feel even more sensitive to his touch.

“Looks like you have a fever, just when I thought you were getting better baby.”

You tried to turn away, but were quickly grabbed back by Chan, who came into your field of vision as he tried to check you.

“Uh uh, baby, don’t do that to me. Get up, I’m not here to fight you, just wanna care for my sick baby. How’re you gonna get better if you don’t let me in?”

You relaxed, leaning into the warmth of Chan’s hand, eyes squeezed shut tightly as you tried to keep it close to you. His thumb continued to caress your cheek gently, his touch soothing in its own way.

“It hurts,” you whined, throat constricting slightly with how dry it was. You couldn’t remember the last time you drank any water. He lifted your head gently, supporting it with his hand as he brought a glass of water to your lips.

"Here, take small sips," he instructed softly, his gaze fixed on your face as you drank. He adjusted the angle of the glass to make it easier for you, ensuring nothing spilled. After a few sips, he lowered the glass, his fingers brushing against your lips as he pulled it away. "Attagirl, that's better, isn’t it?"

You nodded, leaning against him as he sat down next to you. The slight movement of your knee from its resting place had pain jolting through your leg, causing a slight squeak to come out of your mouth.

Chan's brows furrowed as he noticed your discomfort, reaching out. "Easy there," he said softly, his hand moving to place the pillow next to him under your knee, caressing it lightly. "Don't strain yourself."

You watched him as he moved around, blocking out the sound of plastic rustling by focusing on him.

“Where were you?”

“I was just getting something done on base baby, there's no need to worry. Came here as soon as i was done,” he said, turning around to you with something in hand.

It was a couple tablets, along with another glass of water.

You reeled away slightly as he came closer, hand outstretched to offer you the medication.

Chan seemed to sense your hesitation, his expression softening, "I promise you, these are just pain relievers to help you feel better. They'll make the pain more manageable." Still you drew back, turning your head to the side.

“No. They taste weird. I can’t swallow.”

“C’mon baby, please. Do it for me at least.” Chan cooed, scooting closer till he was in your ear. “I don’t want to,” you coughed, clutching your mouth to avoid allowing your sickness to spread any further.

“Fine,” Chan muttered, turning around, “At least have a cough drop.”

As you turned around to respond, his mouth was on yours, kissing you roughly. You felt his warmth against your lips, a soothing sensation that momentarily made you forget your discomfort. For a moment you melted into it, before you felt something getting shoved into your mouth.

You didn’t even have a chance to spit it out, as Chan placed a hand over your mouth, rubbing your throat lightly to get you to swallow it. The bitter aftertaste seem to rest on your tongue, causing you to actually gag a little as Chan forced you to lie down once more. The gentle touches continued to your head, running fingers through your damp hair, untangling it as best he could with one hand.

“I promise you’ll get better baby. I know it tastes bad but you gotta trust me here, you can sleep once the medicine has taken effect and you’ll feel better.”

You nodded weakly, not having the energy to argue further. His concern was evident, even if his methods were a bit forceful. You closed your eyes, shivering slightly at the cloth he put on your forehead. As you lay there, the room seemed to spin slightly, and you held onto the blankets tightly.

The medication began to take effect, dulling the pain and making you feel drowsy. The room felt cocooned in silence, the soft rustling of the curtains and the occasional murmur of voices from outside the door creating muffled noises.

"Rest now," he whispered, almost a soft man lullaby in the darkness. You let yourself succumb to sleep in his arms, feeling the weight of exhaustion pulling you under once again.

——————

The light disturbed your sleep once again, forcing you to lazily open your eyes, looking around on your side. Chan was asleep against the headboard of his bed, mouth open slightly as he snored.

You took the opportunity to trace his arm, running circles in his arms as curled into his warmth. Even in his sleep, Chan's awareness stirred, and his fingers curled around your hand, intercepting your exploration halfway up his arm.

“What are you doing baby?” His voice was a sleepy murmur, laced with a hint of amusement. He looked down at you with half-lidded eyes, his other hand moving to your forehead, now pleasantly cool to the touch.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice cracking slightly as you looked at him. "For taking care of me, even when I’ve caused you so much trouble."

In a moment he seemed to be wide awake, looking at you with such a fragile look you felt you might have cried a little.

“It was never your fault Y/n, I shouldn’t have let it get there,” he murmured, helping you sit up against him.

"I'm sorry," he continued, his gaze unwavering as he hunched down to your level, "for not being there when you needed me. I let my pride get in the way, and I hurt you in the process."

Tears started to fall even as you were unaware, staring at him as he brought you closer.

“You cry a lot, you know.” And he kissed you.

Your tears mingled with the kiss, a mixture of joy and relief, even as you tried to push him away.

“What? Do you not like my kisses anymore?”

You shook your head as you buried it into the crook of his neck, squeezing him tighter. “Mhh. I don’t wanna get you sick.”

He chuckled, pulling the blanket over both of you as you clung to him.

"You think a little cold would keep me away?" When you didn’t respond, he shook you, getting a little jump from you in response.

“Sorry. I’m just hungry.” You muttered, groaning into his neck. “I’ll order some soup, that sound okay?” Chan offered, rubbing your sides with extra precaution.

“So long as it’s the one I like. That’ll serve as an apology enough.” You yawned, curling up against him once more.

“I missed you Chan.”

“Missed you too baby.”

[hunniebunnietarot]

"When I First Saw You"

First of all, I apologize for the delay on this reading:( I've been so unmotivated and busy, but I got it up FINALLY! If you can please tell me what you think of this reading or if you have any other suggestions. Enjoy!

Tarot Masterlist

~~~

How?

I’m seeing this as a situation where you are in need of assistance because of something(or someone) that is bothering you. This could involve an older woman that is bothering you and your person steps in to help before it gets too far. It won’t be anything too serious, just a misunderstanding between you and this older lady, where she is the aggressor. This might take place in a work environment where your manager will be antagonizing you and they step in simply because they can’t stand to see someone be mistreated. It is also possible that your future spouse won’t step in to help you in this conflict. This could be the cause because they see how well you can handle yourself, so they kind of hesitate but still keep an eye out so that nothing goes too far. Now, this conflict could be a long time coming as you have bottled up your emotions thus far through all of the mistreatment and unfairness. The saying “The straw that broke the camel’s back” comes to mind.

Also, for very few of you this could be a misunderstanding between you and your fs in the first meeting.

When?

This is just a confirmation of everything said before. You are feeling trapped in a situation with someone else and are being led to take action. You probably gave this person the benefit of the doubt so many times, but something just finally snapped. With that being said the months that are being highlighted here are November, March, and June.

How?

You might relocate due to a new job opportunity. I see you kind of getting back on your feet after some kind of loss. Specifically I feel like you’ll be moving somewhere that is known for its diversity. You will be wanting to nurture yourself after this hard time in your life, being held down by circumstances for so long. More specifically you could be going somewhere that is good for your spiritual/physical health, such as: a spiritual retreat, a temple, a spa, a resort etc. You could run into this person there. You will actually end up making friends with this person at first because you two may relate in some ways regarding your spiritual journey. You both could have a history of depression or anxiety, come from similar backgrounds, or be of the same sex.

When?

You will definitely be coming out of a bad period of (possible) depression. The good news though, is that you will absolutely be thriving when this person enters your life. Although you may be a bit unstable still, trying to find your footing, you’ll be well on your way. For extra confirmation: you may be the kind of person that has that extreme view of having to completely uproot your life to “start over”. Some of the people in this pile may be recovering addicts and learning to trust themselves again. Months December, October and August are highlighted here.

How?

I think a friend will set you and your person up on a blind date. They might think that you work too hard even though you’re already successful. Around the time this happens you may express to them wanting to be in a relationship, but never actually taking action to do so. So they take it into their hands and offer their help, whether you want it or not (I see them as kind of pushy and excitable). Your friend reminds me of Elle Woods from ‘Legally Blonde’. This may be a blind date or them just dragging you out of your comfort zone to have fun out and about. I also want to point out that your future spouse could be someone that you already know, meaning they would have already been aware of you(and vice versa) because of mutual friends. You may just know or recognize them in passing.

When?

Again, you will be experiencing a time of financial abundance. You will be guided to do something outside of your normal routine by a friend. You could be a workaholic and have one of those routines where you only go to work and then straight back home(same lol), so they suggest something different. The Summer months are highlighted in your spread: August, June and July.

How?

You will meet your future spouse through a family member, I think it will be someone from your father’s side of the family. It could be an emotional event, such as a wedding of one of your family members, and your person happens to be one of their guests. This means that they could be a friend of your family or the person they will get married to. Whatever this event is could take place in a different city, state, or even country then where you are on a daily basis(destination wedding). You could not get along with some of your family and have worries about your person being told bad things about you(really random but it's here). 

When?

The months present are April, November, and September. This time of your life will be quite restless feeling. You could be stuck in a “I miss those days” kind of mentality because not much will be working out for you when this person comes into your life. You are not satisfied with your circumstances.

~~~

More coming soon, I promise lol

[a-star-that-burns-brightly]

It fucking breaks my heart how Teruko's whole breakdown in Chapter 1 was not caused by Xander's death, it wasn't even caused by everyone beginning to accuse her. Those may have been contributors, but not the actual reason The straw that broke the camel's back, the thing that caused her to finally break, was the fact that everyone in the cast was more than willing to execute her to save their own lives. She even explicitly says this at the end of CH1-12

Teruko: I'm done with you all. I'm done pretending to be "friends" with everyone here. Teruko: Every single one of you was perfectly willing to vote me to my death. I'm the one who steered the trial in the right direction.

And the reason this pains me so much is that it shows to me that even after Xander deceived her, plunging a knife into her stomach, she still tried to trust her classmates. Further evidenced by the fact that she had very little qualms with Min helping her during the investigation

Min: You have me to help you out. If you want, I can tell you what I found when I was investigating. Teruko: Thank you for helping, but I think it's best that I see everything with my own eyes.

If she had decided since Xander stabbed her that putting her trust in the cast was useless, she could've just shoved Min away like she does with basically every character in Chapter 2. But she didn't, she allows Min to help her. She so, so fucking badly wanted to continue putting her trust in everyone. Xander might've been a backstabbing piece of shit (from her perspective), but she still held onto the glimmering hope she was shown before it all became tainted

Teruko: This is pretty nice. Eden: Of course it is. We made this cake, and everyone likes it! Teruko: No, I mean what we're doing right now. It's nice. Teruko: Even though... Even though we're all worried about that motive announcement tomorrow, we can still eat together and talk about dumb things. Teruko: It's nice, having friends.

These people were her friends. Even when they accuse her of murder, they're still her friends. Surely they'll believe her when she says they didn't do it... Right?

Hu: I'm truly sorry, Teruko. I know that you're upset for having been caught, but we have to do this. If we don't vote who the blackened is we'll all die.

But as anticipated, nothing ever goes right for Teruko Tawaki. The people she thought she could finally trust are the same people admitting to her face that they are more than willing to sacrifice her to escape their own demise. Gone was the glimmer of hope that Teruko Tawaki could live a normal life with normal friends. She now knew the long-suppressed truth.

Teruko: Xander pretended to be my friend, and then betrayed me to try and end my life. You all are the same.

[year2000electronics]

For your Just Say Yes au,has Dipper or Ford seen Stan ever since the apprenticeship?. Have they visited at all?,or are they too deep into their issues to care?. Plus how does Mabel fare with her new triangle possessed roommate?.

so a lot of people very justifiably point out that mabel and dipper WOULDNT have the same rift stan and ford do, especially not over something as small as what stan and ford did (the perpetual motion machine, which was the straw that broke the camels back) but i think that mabel and dipper end up going no-contact specifically because of the fact that they ended off bad with the opposite grunkles, but the grunkles also ended off WAY WORSE with each other. its sorta like this

its a very weirdmageddon 3 moment where both of them are acting like callous assholes (ford was being a jerk by trying to get the last word in and correct stan's grammar as an easy potshot, but stan ever since weird 3 started had been running his mouth about how stupid this is and how ford went and got himself captured. these old men are both equally immature, and i wont have people excusing stan's hiccups just because they find him more sympathetic) and then they end up hurting dipper and mabel in the process too.

ford probably ends up letting something slip about how the two of them together would be "limiting dipper's potential", which, of course, to mabel, makes it sound like he thinks she's dead weight, when ford really meant it in terms of "stan and i weren't allowed to be our own people either back then, some time apart may help you two mature and grow" but since he says it Like That, it comes off TERRIBLY.

meanwhile with stan- youve seen episodes like dreamscaperers and how he would act with ford in atots! he doesnt mean to a lot of the time, but stan's got a very quick mouth and often struggles with expressing vulnerability in a way that isn't sarcastic or fueled by impulse. he might be trying to stop the ensuing breakup but ends up accidentally yelling at dipper for trying to run off without his sister and that "he should really slow down and think things through because a sibling is something you never want to lose". but it comes out terribly for him, too. he doesnt say THAT its more like "ARE YOU EVEN THINKING ABOUT YOUR SISTER, YOU GOOBER?!"

and like i said before! the grunks are both in that sort of "stalemate" where theres no apocalypse to get them to talk about their feelings, and theyre both very patient men when it comes to holding grudges. so even though dipper and mabel WANT to, theres a lot of tension going on with everyone who isnt the two of them. so they feel like they cant

meanwhile i imagine mabel and billie get into some SHEEENANIGANS. classic college stuff, y'know? chaos, except specifically the human kind of chaos where you go bar-hopping and buy half-off concert tickets just cos and tape yourself to the ceiling when youre too drunk. its a way they can connect which is what billie wants (but bill's having a lot of fun too, admittedly)

(ty for your question!!)

[jeannereames]

Do you think that Alexander was truly liked by those around him, in a personal level? True friendship. Not really Hephaistion but also like Ptolemy, Seleucus, Roxanne, Arrhidaios, those who grew up with him or were his closest circle. Or was it all cynical politics?

Found it! That was weird. Appearing/disappearing asks?

Did the people around Alexander like him?

Did the people around Alexander like him? Hephaistion did. But the rest?

The asker refers to his personal circle, but I want to address this more broadly. I’ll return to his personal circle at the end.

First, we must beware of that pesky “shading” by later authors as part of their attempts to use Alexander’s career for commentary on their own time. They meant to show how success and power spoilt him and made him into a tyrant. That said, I believe he was well-liked overall. Yet things did change over time.

He began as king of a (relatively) small kingdom in northern Greece where all a Macedonian had to do before addressing him was to take off his hat—didn’t even use the title “King.” By his death, he’d taken over in a tradition that depicted rulers as “King of Kings” and “King of the Four Quarters” [e.g., the Whole World], even a god-king (Egypt). Going from (little) Macedonia to (enormous) Asia naturally cut down on his availability to soldiers and even his own Companions/Hetairoi—which pissed them off. Partly, it was simple logistics. He had too many responsibilities, and too many people wanted a piece of his time. Yet after Darius’s death in 330, he also added layers of court ceremonial to better align with ancient near eastern royal expectations and secure Persian respect.

That alienated his own people (maybe more than he expected). However exaggerated I believe the objections to his adoption of Persian custom, there’s little doubt it wasn’t well-received by traditionalists who preferred their kings approachable. Now, be aware: that approachability was more curated than our sources admit, as these sources inflated shifts to serve their own themes. Macedonian kings had bodyguards for a reason, and certain aspects of divine charisma were associated with their physical person (see below). The average citizen could NOT just wander up to one for a chat. Even so, elaborate Persian ceremonial was quite alien to Macedonia.

Nor was such ceremonial required of Macedonians in 330; our sources note that Alexander was essentially running two parallel courts with differing expectations. Nonetheless, the Macedonians took exception to the changes, offended to see “their” king “succumb” to foreign ways. He was getting uppity. They may also have feared it would trickle down to them eventually, even if it hadn’t yet.

Kleitos the Black’s exact words to Alexander in their infamous, alcohol-fueled spat is 99% invented. (Except maybe the line from Euripides; I’m least suspicious of that.) Some of it involved a play mocking officers who’d died recently at the Marakanda massacre as a means to absolve Alexander, who hadn’t been present, but whose failure to clarify the chain of command got them killed. I suspect that was a lot of it. But as with all “straw that broke the camel’s back” fights, it quickly escalated into a litany of complaints. Some of those were about the changes at the court. And Kleitos didn’t survive the encounter.

Alexander’s remorse appears to have been genuine. And the fact the army was ready to convict Kleitos of treason after-the-fact, said a lot about their empathy for the king. Nonetheless, after that, NOTHING was the same for his inner circle. In the right circumstance, he might kill you. And the army would absolve him of it.

Yet the army didn’t regard every negative act by Alexander as forgivable. They were not willing to overlook the murder of Parmenion. If they could understand/see themselves getting worked up enough to kill even a good friend when drunk, the cold, calculated removal of a potential (not even demonstrated) political threat was something else again. Especially a threat who’d served Alexander (and Philip) with such distinction.

E.g., nuance is required when assessing soldierly opinion.

A couple more things suggest Alexander was—overall—beloved:

1. At the battle of Granikos, he was elected the ancient equivalent of MVP; an award made by soldiers. He accepted, then never allowed his own name to be in the running again. Yet it was an award from the soldiers, and means he was respected not just as a leader, but as a fighter.

2. During both so-called “mutinies,” the soldiers didn’t want to kill him, they only wanted him to change his policies. If there’s some doubt the first actually occurred, the second at Opis certainly did. Yet when he showed the soldiers what it would mean to reject him (he replaced them), they came crying for his forgiveness. They didn’t say, “Good riddance” and head home.

3. On his deathbed, the Macedonian soldiers clamored so to see him that his top officers had to knock down a palace wall in order for them to parade through and say a final goodbye.

Now, that’s soldiers. What about his Companions/Hetairoi? At this high level, liking or disliking also involved personal advancement and family position—as the asker alluded to.

Those willing to “play ball” (so to speak)—go along with Alexander’s changes—had a whole new world opened. This wasn’t just his personal circle but included figures such as Krateros who understood what side his bread was buttered on. I’m not sure how much love was lost between him and Alexander, but they certainly respected each other. There were others who fell into this category, such as Koinos and Kleitos the White. Non-Macedonians/Greeks too, who may have seen him as a road to higher office than they’d held under Darius, or perhaps just to survival. Although I do think Poros and Alexander had a Moment; Poros remained loyal even after it served him to do so, despite his own son’s death at the Battle of Hydaspes. Something actually clicked with those two, I believe.

As for those who grew up with him—Hephaistion, Perdikkas, Leonnatos, Seleukos, Lysimakos … it seems they did like him, even if they didn’t always like each other. Seleukos was responsible for Perdikkas’s murder, in the Successor Wars later. There were others, but those names float to the top again and again. Similarly, although older, Harpalos, Ptolemy, Erigyios, and Laomedon all got themselves exiled for his sake. And Alexander never forgot it. The man who brought news to Alexander of Harpalos’s first flight (due to embezzling) was initially arrested for a false report. Alexander simply didn’t believe his friend had betrayed him.

 And it wasn’t just those men. The tale of Alexander drinking a medical potion given him by his doctor Philip—despite a missive from Parmenion warning him about Philip—became famous as a tale of trust. And sure enough, the drought cured the king, so ATG’s trust was well-placed. A later story about Alexander locking up Lysimachos in a cage with a lion in punishment is almost certainly bogus (with overtones of Roman-era stuff). Other evidence suggests great affection for his men. That’s perhaps why Philotas’s failure to inform him about a conspiracy endangering his life came as such a blow.

One may wonder if some of those guys, like the talented—and older—Krateros, didn’t want to replace him as king? Certainly after his death, they did vie to be kings.* Periodically, I run across some misguided person arguing that Philotas and/or Parmenion wanted to take his place, hence the conspiracy. It’s even embedded in our ancient sources, which didn’t understand Macedonian kingship (were thinking on Roman models).

But those men couldn’t be kings. They weren’t Argeads, and it mattered. (Such supposition also assumes they were part of the real conspiracy, rather than Philotas simply being an arrogant dumbfuck who failed to report it.)

The Argeads had Royal Charisma. Charis is a gift from the gods: literally. It can be beauty and grace, sure, but at its base, it simply means “favor.” The difference between a king and a tyrant was that the former had charis by descent. The men who became tyrants (or tried and failed) all believed they had it too, but by their own demonstrated aretē and timē. That’s why they were never just popular Joe Blow off the street. They were Olympic victors, winning generals, etc.  All were also aristocrats and fully intended to establish their own royal dynasties…but failed.

Until the Hellenistic Age. The Successors were just tyrants who made it work. Some (like Seleukos) even created mythological origins for themselves. Daniel Ogden has a good book on the creation of this myth: The Legend of Seleucus: Kingship, Narrative and Mythmaking in the Ancient World. If you’re curious about how all those things go into charis, I recommend it.

It’s not enough to be competent. One also needed the gods’ blessing. Charisma. That’s why Alexander’s officers might compete with and snipe at each other…but not with/at him.*

As for figures such as Roxane or Oxyathres (Darius’s brother who joined ATG’s court after Darius’s murder), it’s impossible to know what their opinion of him would have been. We have zero reliable evidence. It would seem Sisygambis (Darius’s mother) genuinely liked him. But again, this may have served later narratives, so I wouldn’t swear to it. She might have just made the best of a bad situation.

So! The final vote is that he seems to have been more popular/well-received than not … for a rather ruthless ancient world conqueror. Ha. I think that’s part of his eternal fascination. He’d be far less interesting if he’d simply been a monster.

Also, I forgot, but I did a separate post a while back on a related topic: Did Alexander's Companions Like Each Other

————————

* It took some years before the Successors started using the title “King” (Basileus). Antigonos Monophthalmos was the first, if I remember right, around the same time Alexander IV was murdered by Kassandros—and he didn’t claim the title himself. It was given him by Athens. Up to that point, they’d all simply called themselves “governors” and/or “regents.” Even if they might have been privately considering how to become kings in their own right, the charisma of Macedonian kingship belonged to the Argeads. Getting rid of Alexander IV (quietly), then Olympias’s murder of Philip III Arrhidaios and Hadea Eurydike left no Argeads. Then Alexander’s empire could become “spear won” territory.

[theplottdump]

7? I feel like a lot of authors and creators in general may feel this way

7. Do you have any characters you believe might be misunderstood by your readers?

I got a couple of asks for Number 7, so I think I'll do three different characters. So let's start with Kate Miller, or Agent 008.

Kate is one of our Angels and also my take on the classic Femme Fatale trope. She's been around since we introduced UNIT, starting as an undercover Agent on the arm of Maximillian Von Klein during the Museum Heist. I've always really enjoyed her as a background character, so for Poppy's story I wanted to flesh her out a lot more and give her a moment in the spotlight.

(cringes quietly at old screenshots)

She's mean, rich, sociopathic- she has anger issues, and she's incredibly Type A. She's also our strongest social player, working for years slipping in and out of the good graces of bad men collecting intel for UNIT. This has left her - understandably, a little emotionally bruised and battered. She spooks easily ( like a horse, thank you @sirianasims that's never leaving my head ) and doesn't trust anyone around her. She even sleeps with a knife under her pillow- which, think about the connotations that comes with that.

For the end of Act 2, I wanted her to get kissed and immediately enter fight or flight mode, slapping Diego. He doesn't have the information we have, and she doesn't readily give it out, which is why the bar scene was a perfect opportunity to peek behind the curtain and show, not tell, the kind of behavior that she's been dealing with for YEARS. Skimming the tip of the iceberg. The last straw that broke the camel's back. She's one of my favorite characters and I think she's so so interesting to write. I hope you like her too.

[darklinaforever]

I see so many people saying that the Doctor wanted to die / had suicidal impulses because he lost Clara. Whereas... yes, and no. Clara was only the retrigger of the Doctor's suicidal impulses. And the highlight of it, the straw that really broke the camel's back, was Bill's death. This desire to die in the Doctor at this period, comes from the compilation of the loss of all the loved ones he may have had, including Rose in it, like the moment where he thinks back to several people before stopping himself from regenerate indicates this. Clara was the re-trigger of these suicidal impulses after the accumulation of several losses, and Bill was the last straw after still other losses. Do you see the nuance ? It's not Clara herself, but rather the accumulation with her which was part of the return of this bad cycle. Each phase of the Doctor's suicidal urges is quite different. There is before he met Rose after the loss of his planet where he was clearly ok to die in the middle of a mission without seeing any problem, and when he lost Rose, her absence being really unbearable for his 10th incarnation which had been formatted on it. Especially since even at the time when Clara was alive, he already seemed to be tired of living : "This regeneration, it's a bit of a clerical error anyway. I've got to go sometime." So yes, we can take this sentence in the literal sense that yes, this regeneration was done a little outside the rules, but with what we know about the continuation of the character's arc, the sentence also takes its meaning double entender about the Doctor's upcoming suicidal impulses. He's already tired of losing people. He thinks that this regeneration is a mistake and that he must go there one day. For me, it literally stops the beginnings of his much clearer desire to die later. In my opinion, Twelve took a lot of risks throughout his story, and it even ended up rubbing off on Clara at one point. It's just that after Clara left, it became MUCH more obvious. He just stopped having any subtlety about it. Not to mention the fact that normally, a Time Lord does not go beyond the twelfth regeneration. So obviously there was the theme of the Doctor wishing to die during this specific regeneration since he should normally have stopped there, a Time Lord not often being entitled to a new cycle of twelve regenerations. Basically, at this stage of the Doctor's story, it could have been a character other than Clara who retriggers her suicidal impulses more fundamentally /frankly.