#like they’re a constant background presence in some way

[unknownarmageddon]

How often do you think about the following daily on a scale of 1-10:

Kross fighting (but like. Yknow. They look kinda gay doing it)

Kross kissing

Kross being silly

10/10 for all of the above man

[cryptidghostgirl]

The Love (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Description: Alastor is drunk and Charlie asks him if he has ever been in love.

Warnings: I don't think there are any but correct me if I'm wrong.

Word Count: 1,323

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N Y'all, I'm lowkey dying from the requests. I'm sorry for the last five or so taking so long, I just need a little break and mix in some of my own ideas if that is okay.

Alastor was drinking at the bar with Husk, Charlie, and Angel. The day had been a lot, seeing Mimzy was always a lot. Yes she was trouble, but Alastor loved her. He loved her for the same reason he was trying to drink himself stupid at the bar. He loved her because she reminded him of Y/n. Mimzy had been her friend first, after all.

He sat off to the side in his own little world while Angel and Charlie chatted and Husk obediently poured the drinks. Normally, Husk would have joined the pair in the mindless, mundane chatter but after the events of the day, Alastor's presence kept him silent.

"No way!" Charlie exclaimed.

She and Angel were talking about some TV show they both watched or another. A mind numbingly boring background noise but, Alastor wasn't complaining.

"Yes! They are one hundred percent perfect for each other." Angel replied animatedly.

"Literally how. Name one thing that shows they have good chemistry."

"Uh, they’re constantly at each other's throats? If that's not love, I don't know what is."

"Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"You don't know what love is."

Husk let out a short, sharp laugh as he topped off Angel's drink.

"Oh yeah? Well then, Princess, what do you think love is."

Charlie sighed, leaning her elbow on the counter as a dreamy look spread across her face.

"Love is... love is when you would do anything for the person. It's when they're your guiding star, your... your prayers answered."

"Uh, no? Love is when you want to literally kill the person but like, in a good way."

"Angel, what does that even mean." Charlie laughed.

"It means... it means there is passion. That spark everyone always talks about? It's violence."

"Hey Al!" Charlie suddenly called, leaning back in her seat to peer at Alastor behind Angel's back, "Who's right, me or Angel?"

Alastor looked up from his glass.

"I hate to say it, but neither of you are correct." he sighed in irritation at having been disturbed, "Love is neither a constant fight nor a blind devotion, though it contains aspects of both."

"Like you know anything about love, mister fancy talk creepy voice." Angel scoffed, turning to face Alastor as well now.

"Actually, I do."

Charlie's face lit up. She practically vibrated with anticipation.

"Alastor! You've been in love!?"

Normally, on a night like this, he'd be alone. He'd be careful to be alone, or at least have Husk as his only company. When he told Husk to shut up and pour, he listened. Other people, not so much.

"Yes."

Charlie had stars in her eyes. She inched closer to him.

"Are you gonna spill?" Angel asked after a moment.

"It was a long time ago."

Alastor took a long sip from his glass.

"Do you... do you not remember it?" Charlie asked, her excited smile slipping slightly at the notion

Maybe it was the drink. Maybe it was the long day, Lucifer, Mimzy, Husk. Those shark demons. Maybe it was just that secretly all along, he had wanted someone to talk to. He watched the liquor in his glass as he swirled it gently.

"It was a long time ago, but I still remember it." his smile softened as he spoke, "It's strange. I remember her laughter, her little quixotic tendencies. I remember the way her eyes would light up when she smiled and the way her perfume smelled. I know her favorite author, the way she took her coffee, the way she folded her clothes but, I can't seem to ever see her face anymore. I..."

He trailed off, taking a breath.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." Charlie quickly said, not wanting to make Alastor uncomfortable.

Alastor shook his head.

"I've spent years not talking about her. Maybe... maybe something else would be nice."

"So, how'd you guys meet?" Charlie immediately asked.

Alastor looked up at her and let out a light chuckle. He felt like he was human again for a moment. It was odd.

"I don't know if you know this about me, but I was a radio broadcaster back when I was alive. A rather famous one at that, in New Orleans at any rate. Her family ran a restaurant near the studio that I went to get lunch at from time to time. She worked there as a server."

"And she loved you?" Angel asked, "Like, you weren't just delusional?"

"I was quite the lady's man back in my day."

"Uh-huh." Angel doubtfully replied, "Sure."

"Oh hush, Angel." Charlie shoved the spider demon slightly, "Tell us more! What was she like? Did you ever get together or were you just friends? Gah! I wanna know everything!"

"She was..." Alastor's gaze fell back to his glass, "you remind me of her in a way. She was so idealistic, so driven. So... bubbly. She worked hard and she cared deeply. I don't know how I swung her, despite my charms. We were friends for about a year. The whole time, I was trying to work up the courage to ask her out but she ended up being the one to ask me. We got married when we were in our mid twenties. I only had a few years with her as my wife before I died."

Unbidden ideas darkened the edges of his mind. Y/n had always been so good, so sweet. Alastor had no idea if she had ever learned of his... escapades. He figured she must know, considering the manner in which he died but it was a horrifying thought. He was grateful when Charlie spoke again, pulling his mind back to the present.

"Thats so cute!" Charlie exclaimed, clapping her hands as she looked between Alastor and Angel, searching for similar excitement.

"Can we meet this alleged doll of yours?" Angel asked, "Cause I am really not believing any of this bullshit your spouting."

Charlie gasped, suddenly struck by inspiration.

"Do you think she would want to be redeemed?"

"Oh dear," Alastor shook his head, meeting Charlie's eyes, "she's not here."

"Then wh-"

"She's in heaven?" Angel exclaimed, "You married someone who ended up in heaven?"

"Either that or she's over a hundred years old and still on earth." Alastor weakly joked.

"I'm sorry."

Alastor shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.

"No!" Charlie insisted, "You'll... you'll never get to see her again! That's so sad!"

"And here I thought you were trying to get us redeemed." Angel scoffed.

Charlie turned to him.

"I'm trying to get you redeemed cause you're a guest. Alastor isn't a guest."

"Right you are, my dear."

"But you could do that." Charlie said turning back to Alastor, "Angel's right, if you were a guest you could be redeemed. You could see her again!"

Alastor smiled kindly at the excited demon. He patted her back.

"I'm afraid I don't think that's an option."

"But why not!" Charlie insisted, "Anyone can be redeemed, Alastor."

"That's not the issue, my dear." he sighed, "I did some things on earth that she would most certainly view as... unfavorable shall we say? Things she most certainly learned of after my death."

"You're not even gonna give it a shot?" Angel asked.

"Yeah, come on Alastor. Let us help you. You never know how it could turn out!"

"It's alright. I have the time we spent together, the memories. I don't want to taint that." he slowly, unconsciously, raised a hand to his chest, his palm over his heart, "The love is still there, thats what matters."

The quartet fell silent as Husk poured Alastor another drink. Alastor sighed, grabbing the glass and examining it carefully, but not taking a sip.

"What was her name?" Charlie asked, her voice small and her smile long gone.

"Y/n."

It had been years since he'd said it out loud. His tongue relished every syllable.

"Her name was Y/n."

[bloop-bl00p]

In defense of Octavia

TW: Lots of Trauma Dumping, Mention of abuse

She’s been wronged way too many times in this fandom for some reason. Look at her vibing, how can you hate her?

I’m a fan of Helluva Boss, mainly because of its potential but the quality dropped dead in the second season. We’re gonna talk about a character I’ve seen other fans misinterpreting in favor of the so-great Prince Stolass.

I want to talk about her mainly because I do what I want and because after studying her character I just realized that she’s just like me. Especially regarding her relationship with her father, I see myself in my younger years.

All of that to say…

She has all the right to feel abandoned.

Octavia obliviously has a stronger bond with her father, it shows in her behavior and little background details

When she wants to draw her family, she draws her and Stolas, we mostly see her being happy with him which leads me to think that she’s emotionally neglected by Stella. To her, Octavia is just an ‘egg’ that fell off her and she doesn't care about the impact killing Stolas could have on her daughter.

Despite being emotionally absent, Stella has a much more physical presence than Stolas. Most of the time Stolas is alone in his castle which leads me to think that Octavia is somewhere else with Stella. They did mention the two went on a weekend somewhere. This leads us to this question…

How can Octavia feel more close to her father?

Here’s the thing, I see a lot of my family dynamic here. My mom doesn’t pay attention to me at all, she doesn't want me to bother her and she makes it clear. My dad, however, who’s absent like 90% of the time, always tried to spare time with me. He explained to me that he was working and why he was doing all of this (I was like barely ten) but it never prevented him from trying to play with me, sharing his hobbies, going on a walk, and else.

He was there emotionally and, as a kid who was bullied, had no friends at all, and a mother who didn't give a damn, I cherished this relationship.

I believe the exact same thing happened with Octavia, we never see her with friends or even outside the castle, she’s isolated. Stolas has Prince duties, we’ve seen him carry them in the shows, hence why he’s mostly absent leaving her with her mother. But, at least when she was a kid, he tried to do stuff bringing her to Loo-Loo Land or being the one to comfort her. That is why she clings to her father, he’s the only one who actually shows her love and she’s terrified of losing that.

Regarding her mother, Stella obliviously doesn't care about her so the feeling is reciprocated. From a narrative standpoint, Stella is an unpredictable force of nature getting angry for pretty much anything that doesn't go her way. So Octativa learned to not cross her mother's path.

I know this expression, this is the “Oh fuck… they’re at it again?” she’s used to her mother's constant screaming, she's used to her parents fighting.

She did say they were a time when a parent didn't hate each other, which to me refers to the time when Stolas tanked Stella’s abuse. But, that doesn’t mean that Stella wasn't abusing him in front of a younger Octavia, she’s erratic and they did imply that she can get physical in her toxic behavior. Since Stella was passive, it was probably mostly harmful comments.

Putting personal things here, my mom was also very abusive to my older sibling. Since I was extremely young I learned not to ‘be a burden’ to avoid being abused as well, which includes things like not talking to her unless she does it first. Whether Octavia is aware of the physical abuse or not, she must know enough to know that it’s a bad idea to annoy Stella.

This is the only picture where we see her seemingly having a good relationship with Stolas, which to me feels like she’s faking it considering all we know about the family.

She has a pretty shitty household but her relationship with her father make it bearable until Stolas did a 180°

He randomly started to prioritize Blitz and don’t spill me the bullshit of ‘he’s trying’ he stopped trying long ago.

Let’s analyze this episode by episode:

In Loo Loo Land, Stolas seemingly tries to rebuild a visibly strained relationship with his daughter by bringing her to a park she liked when she was a kid. To this, she immediately responds with an “I’m not 5 anymore.” and an “I rather kill myself.” There’s no room for miscommunication, she doesn't want to go there, and she won’t enjoy it as much as she did back then. Still, he decides to go there, showing that he doesn't listen, and, he brings the one the thing that is currently ruining his already horrible marriage because of his own actions. Blitzø.

He’s trying to spend time with his daughter after a long time (this is mentioned in the episode) and he decides to bring in that one guy he’s hooking up with to deliberately make sexual remarks about him in front of her.

She’s uncomfortable the whole time, not just because she allegedly doesn’t like listening to her father's comments but because she doesn't like the park. She said it, yet Stolas doesn't acknowledge it, he doesn't realize the faces she makes which are to me pretty communicative of her annoyance and discomfort.

This is not even subtle body language, yet he only notices it when she runs off. The worst part is that he still finds a way to think about Blitzø when his daughter leaves.

He looked upset that Blitzø didn't follow him! Did he expect that guy to pursue him constantly? He was in the middle of an argument with his daughter, I personally would have stepped away to give them space to talk and reconcile. But no, apparently Blitzø should be at his beck and call all the time.

But you know what, after all of this. He still apologized. That absolutely does not negate everything he did during the day but, at the end of it, he finally listened to her and even brought her to a place she actually wanted to be. Which is good, he acknowledged her discomfort and did something she liked.

Until Seeing Star.

Look I know Stolas was busy with Stella but he clearly doesn't care about her and her stuff.

Don’t tell me he couldn’t pinpoint Stella’s location with magic and teleport all of her belongings to her. Their discussion was barely about the furniture, he could have said that they were gonna be delivered and hung up the second he saw Octavia. Arguing with Stella is pointless, he’s the number one guy that should know that! Why does he continue to insult her, he’s just fuelling the fire!

Moving out her belongings would have been 10 times faster if he just hung up the phone, then he could have had a more mindful talk with Octavia without the constant bickering of his ex-wife.

But he didn't for some reason, fair enough, I guess. The writers do whatever they want. Anyway, Octavia got angry and ran to go see the stars on her own.

So, Stolas’ castle is in Pride but my point still stands, Octavia had the time to run from home and make the way all from her father's place to the city, find the specific building Blitzø held his organization in and Stolas didn't notice a thing.

You cannot tell me Stella managed to get his attention for that long AND you cannot tell me that his castle is close to the shitty disaffected building and the populace. His daughter ran off and he did not notice a thing.

Not only that but he has the nerve of blaming Blitzø for not watching the book. Like, dude! You should have watched your daughter instead!

Then he spills out more bullshit.

I don’t know Stolas, how could you possibly find her when you were shown to have countless abilities to do so?

Like bubbles projecting the image and locations of people.

Or that on time when you possessed corpses and one woman just to go full eldritch monstrosity just for one that one guy you’re cheating your wife with. And don’t whine about “They don’t love each other.” it’s still affecting his family, mainly his daughter so it’s still bad.

Of course, you do all of that without your grimoire without any problem, brushing it off with a…

I guess he forgot his ‘ways’ when it came to Octavia. But honestly, Loona literally found her easily just by looking at her Instagram account, couldn't he just call her or something? The girl had her phone the whole time and he didn't just think of calling her.

Me when I forget that I have teleportation power when I am in an enclosed space with nobody is looking.

You’re certainly not worrying right now. Via literally told him to his face that she was scared and he kept flirting with him even though he once again caused her to run away because of his neglect.

He’s not trying his best, THIS IS NOT TRYING!

No Loona, his daughter communicated very clearly issues related to their relationship, rather than reassuring her and being there for her as much as it’s realistically possible (he still has duties to carry), he gets in an avoidable petty fight with his ex and keeps an unhealthy dynamics with an imp he's been obsessing over. He doesn't focus, his priorities aren’t straight, and now Octavia feels abandoned.

I did mention that I had a good relationship with my father back then, but it stopped abruptly. His focus changed and he went out with friends after work and gradually stopped spending time with me. Until we never spent time together again, (to give you an idea the only moment where I could see him was in the morning for breakfast) now that can sound silly but I was a child, with no friends and a neglectful mom, losing the only good thing I had in life broke me. I knew his schedule, I knew he was spending time with work buddies and that just stung my self-esteem even more leaving me feeling like a burden when I was just a kid who wanted to feel love.

This is why I don’t like the “He’s trying.” I know what a trying struggling parent looks like and I know what happens when they stop. If you keep trying to do something and you’re constantly failing, either your technique isn’t the right one or you’re not and you’re convincing yourself you are.

And then there are people that’ll tell me that “He lived through the abuse of Stella for years for her.”

If you read all of this then I don’t feel like I need to explain how Octavia was at least partially exposed to Stella's toxic behavior and was affected by it.

For those who don’t know how it feels to live with an erratic mood-swinging person, it’s pure constant stress. You have to think constantly before you talk or move because you know that if you fuck up you’re gonna pay the price. And if you still eventually mess up you can never know with these types of people! You can’t defend yourself because the punishment will be far worse. You are ALWAYS in the wrong.

So he lived through the abuse of Stella just so his daughter could get neglected and abused in a less physical way?

The difference between my parents and Octavia is that they love each other. Stolas doesn't give a damn about Stella, he did say he was nice at first because he empathized with her they were in this shitty situation together, and fine, it's reasonable. But she never changed! Stella stayed the same! Why didn’t he leave her when he stopped carrying about her?! There’s no trauma bounding, Stella isn’t guilt-tripping or manipulating him, they got the child he could have divorced her easily without consequences! If anything, she’s the losing part of this divorce she’s lower in the hierarchy! “Andreaphul will get angry.” HE’S A MARQUIS! Hierarchically speaking Stolas is far more important and he mopes the floor with his peacock ass!

Am I supposed to be empathetic with that one dude who willingly let his daughter grow up in a hyper-toxic environment with an emotionally neglectful and unpredictable wife?! Am I supposed to believe he cares when he kept sleeping in his house in his bed with the same guy his daughter clearly is worried he’s going to leave her with?! Really?!

Don’t ever tell me that this is trying.

[heartcereql]

𝘃𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗼 𝗴𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀

☆ neteyam sully x reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒- the four times neteyam knew he was head over heels and the one time he confessed it. 

𝐂𝐖- tooth rotting fluff, sappiest shit ever, kinda corny if u squint but they’re so parents, none overall. 

𝐀/𝐍 - oh no what’s happening to me i’m actually active?????!!!  also i had a bit of trouble posting this one so lmk if there are any mistakes x

I.

the skies were in peaceful and unbothered calm. warm breeze caressed neteyam’s skin as he made his way through the forest, to the pond. to you. birds chirming in the background; it all confered the setting an idyllic ambience.

it didn’t take him long to finally reach the hypnotising, crystal-like waters of the pond. and there you stood, surrounded by sun rays and beautifully decorated branches. every thought he carried seemed to dissolve, as it always did.

watching you get undressed of your ornaments, only to dive into the water moments later, he realised that, with you, he was able to live in the moment. other worries ceased importance when you leaned in for a big kiss, wrapping his favourite perfume, your own, around him. you were enhacing in all ways possible. 

he walked away from the hiding of branches, his figure becoming visible to you.

your face light up with his sight, a truthful and ebullient smile, calling out his name.

II.

he knew you were around his pod; however, he did not expect the scene he’d encounter as he approached his home. 

you were sat on the ground, knees bent. tuktirey, his youngest sister, was sitting in the same position before you. besides the two of you laid a collection of wildflowers, jewels and beads. some of those he had previously seen on you. your hands were occupied combing tuk’s hair, tangling flowers into her braids and adorning some other braids with beads. while you ornamented her hair, you were entertaining tuk with stories, which went from tales to some of your experiences. 

your face was relaxed, the softest of smiles settling on your lips, eyes looking at the younger na’vi with kindness. tuk’s smile was way wider, due to the constant laughter. truth be told, she admired you and loved spending time in your presence. 

“and there you go!” you finally exclaimed, accomodating the last details. 

tuk turned her body to you, excitement washing all over her. 

“you look so pretty” you smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

she returned the smile, giving you a big hug. “ ‘m gonna go show mama!” she grinned before sprinting to find neytiri. 

once she was gone, neteyam approached you. 

“hey” you stood up to greet him with a kiss to his cheek. “your sister is the absolute cutest”

“she is. you know, you didn’t have to do this. you could’ve just, i don’t know, done something else. something fun” he said.

“this is my idea of fun” you shrugged, smile never abandoning your lips. 

“and i adore you for that”

III.

his chin rested on your shoulder, embracing you with his arms from behind. one of his hands was laced with yours, caressing the back of your hand. 

your eyes were locked with his in the reflection that the abandoned ship shot back. a lovesick smile adorning your and his features. 

“i love us” 

the words slipped off your mouth so casually they surprised neteyam. but he wasn’t complaining. he was eager to hear more, to listen to the mellifluous sound of your voice. 

“what?” he asked in pure and bening confusion.

“i love us. i love you and me together” you elaborated, turning to face him. “i love how we fit each other.”

he tuck a loose strand of hair behing your ear. but his touch still lingered against your cheek. 

“heaven is truly a place on pandora with you, y/n” he softly said. “better than i ever even knew”

you planted a kiss to his cheek before dozing off into the forest again, motioning for him to follow. 

IV.

you couldn’t really recall how it had started. it didn’t really matter, though. the point was you both were laughing. laughing so wholeheartedly much. your laughs laced together melodically, although you were almost out of breath.

your cheeks hurt from all the grinning. your tummy hurt, too, that’s how hard and pure the laugh was. you couldn’t even open your eyes. 

“i-” you broke into laughter again. “i can’t stop!”

you threw you head back, resting it against his shoulder. but it didn’t last long, for he was laughing so much. the whole scene only made you laugh even harder. 

that same day, later on, you’d realise you could have stayed in that moment forever. worries dissolved, no tasks to fulfill, just him and you, enjoying such a mundane yet satisfying activity as laughing, living in your very own bubble. 

as for neteyam, well, he was a goner as soon as he heard you giggle. it sounded so- addicting? yes, perhaps that was the word. the only thing he was sure about was that he never wanted to stop hearing you laugh. 

V.

“y/n!”

you turned to greet him with a warming smile, one that never seemed to leave your face whenever he was around. 

“listen, i’ve ... i’ve been meaning to tell you something” he started, face suddenly flushed. 

you immeadiatly frowned. confused and, yes, slightly afraid. those words didn’t usually announce good news. 

“is everything okay?” you asked carefully. 

“yeah, totally” he flashed you a smile, before avoiding your gaze once again. “it’s just i’ve been feeling different lately. i, well i don’t know how to word it, but, the world suddenly was more beautiful. life’s been refreshing. i felt like doing really��pointless things, but doing them made me happy. and i found someone to do them with. i found someone who sees me. i found someone worth living this world with and for.”

your heart swelled with happiness. you didn’t consider yourself to be able to elaborate a worthy response. there was a glint in your eyes that made you even more ethereal now. 

“well that might have been the most beautiful thing i’ve heard in my entire existance” you cracked a smile. “you truly are one of a kind”

he stepped closer to you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“i can’t promise you forever, y/n. but i can promise you now, and everything i am”

you allowed yourself to avert your eyes to his lips for a fraction of second, before darting your orbs back at his. you couldn’t ask for more.

“you make my life better for just being in it.” you finally said, voice quiet. “and i can’t promise you forever either, because forever wouldn’t be enough”

he gifted you a smile, one you had grown to adore, to need even. 

“kiss me” you whispered, not able to hold in your yearning anymore. 

“all for you”

and then his lips were on yours, not for the first time, certainly not for the last time, but fervently, exploring in a way they had never before, saying unspoken words that translated that feeling you wanted the other so desperately to know but were afraid speaking wouldn’t be enough. feelings that would accompany you forever.

© heartcereql, 2023 || thank you for reading ! 𓆩 ♱ 𓆪

[andrea-lyn]

Roswell New Mexico - Master Fic Rec Post

See under the cut for thirty-four total recs, predominantly Malex. There's also 10 additional in the "Recs Less Travelled" project here.

a few drinks and some conversation by @christchex

Michael Guerin makes a friend who isn’t his sibling, an ex, or a sibling’s ex.

Astriferous Sea by hrhbrittany, Sismyn

Alex has always been the baby among the sirens in the Dead Sea. Michael is performing beard services for his sister. Communication is a little wishy-washy.

This AU came out of nowhere and smacked me right with the ‘I’ve always wanted this and I just never knew’. It has sirens and rescues and bad guys and false relationships and real marriages and rings and drama and romance. It honestly reminds me (in the best way) of an exciting romance novel and I’m so jazzed there’s still one part left to it.

The Bachelor by Sweetgirl2019

After the events of high school, Michael, Isobel & Max moved to California while Liz, Maria & Kyle stayed in Roswell and Alex went to war overseas. Once his enlistment period ends, Alex gets thrown into something that brings him and Michael back together again.

So I think this might be my favourite to see updated right now. It should be a run-of-the-mill fluffy AU, yet the author threw this incredible curveball by using the alien background in a canon divergence to turn The Bachelor into both a romantic dramedy for the boys, but also keeping the looming threat of people finding out about aliens in the background. Also, I think this is top tier pining that you will actively feel in your own chest, that’s how good it is. 

blink back to let me know by haloud - Roswell New Mexico

Alex doesn’t have important conversations over the phone when he can avoid them. It feels too much like going in blind. But in some ways, the phone makes it easier–it’s easier to break when no one’s looking.

It’s Mylex and the 5th in a series, and every part is worth reading, but I definitely re-read parts 4 and 5 a lot. It’s so well written and the dynamic is mwah and I love how Kyle fits into this. One of my favourite pieces in this is how Kyle reacts to his father in relation to Michael & Caulfield and it’s an amazing read.

built this house on memories by @villanellve

He wakes up eight years in the future, and everything is strange, but Alex is there.

YOU GUYS. If you were to write a list of tropes I adore, this would be way up there at the top because of how much I love it. I am a sucker for a character having to be removed from their situation to learn (whether it’s an alternate universe or the future or the past), but this one is so achingly painful and perfect and hopeful. I love the callout that the situation is almost too hard for Alex, I love the resolution at the end on Michael’s part, and you could just soak in the happiness and comfort of their future lives if you let yourself.

Can’t Get No by one_flying_ace

“They’re on round two already,” he says, tilting his head towards the truck again, “or maybe three.” Guerin grimaces, and that’s fair; it’s his brother, after all. “You know how they’re feeling. Could I handle it, if you stopped-” being in control, he doesn’t say, but Guerin shudders. “I’m good, Alex. Just keep the hell away.” (Or: alien sex rocks don’t make them do it, but they sure do help.)

Sex pollen/sex-or-die fics are pretty much a requirement, but this is my absolute favourite and I have re-read it more times than I can tell you (let’s put it at six or seven?) The restraint that Michael has in this is amazing, but the mental images of it are incredible as well. I loved Max and Liz’s secondary presence as well and how each character was tonally perfect down to the little things (like Max not noticing Michael’s sex marks). What a good. What a hot. What amazing.

Constant as the Northern Star by celzmccelz

Michael stares at Kyle. “But I’m a guy! How can I be pregnant?” Kyle looks embarrassed. “Well, you appear to have a fully functioning set of female reproductive organs—or, I mean, like, the kind of reproductive organs that are associated with a double X-chromosome in humans, so I’d assume that you probably became pregnant when semen was introduced into your reproductive tract—” “Jesus Christ, Kyle!” says Michael. He could have happily lived the rest of his life without ever hearing Kyle Valenti say the words “semen” and “reproductive tract.” Kyle’s eyes widen. “Have you been having unprotected sex?” “Oh my God, I am not having this conversation with you!”

Yes, going in, there are some warnings to be cognizant of. It’s mpreg, there’s a lot of medical stuff to go through, but I think this is my absolute favourite of the mpregs I’ve read and it actually comes down to Michael’s support system outside of Alex, namely in Kyle. There’s no sudden BFF bracelets being given, but that morality that makes Kyle Valenti who he is, that’s right there. Also, given that this is an mpreg fic, it delves into family and plot in a way that I haven’t often seen. Plus, you get the ‘getting back together’ Malex that I so deeply crave.

Contigo me encontré by beautifulcheat (Katalyst), ladynox

The Lockhart House was once a home, although it was never a happy one. Steeped in tragedy, it still stands today, in the heart of Old Town Roswell, attracting ghost hunters and those seeking to catch a peak of something from beyond the veil.

Contrary to popular myth, it wasn’t currently haunted (except by one paranormally talented docent). It was Michael’s favorite job and the best part of his summer home from UNM. Or at least was until Alex Manes was hired to man the gift shop, complicating an otherwise fun and easy job.

everywhere on earth you go - @evepolastried

Across the room, he can still see how Michael Guerin is looking at him. And that’s something different, something new, something so very familiar. The thrill of nerves, of guilt, of want. Alex smiles, and he starts to sing. (OR: Alex Manes grabs his guitar and gets the hell out of Roswell in 2008, and he leaves behind a letter. Here’s what happens ten years later)

I love this. This one has something incredible, and it’s something I called out, but it has this amazing work with pace. There’s a frantic moment at the bar and it’s chaos, and you feel it. It’s rushed and wild and crazy, but then everything slows down and it gets perfect. There’s Michael, there’s Alex, there’s music, and it’s such a great ride.

Family Matters by @bestillmyslashyheart

Isobel is telepathic. Most of the time she ignores it. She used to pick up on other’s people’s emotions but she’s long since learned to tune that out. Until one night she can’t. Someone, somewhere is in such a state that it’s spilling over and she’s left to deal with the brunt of it. Or, Michael keeps things close to the vest until he can’t. The night after Alex leaves him at the drive-in, everything he’s feeling bubbles up inside until it spills over onto Isobel. Suddenly he’s left with no other choice but to open up.

This is an early fandom piece, but I still think it’s held up to an immensely amazing rate. Not only that, but I love how it delves into powers, Michael and Isobel’s relationship, and the incredible idea of spillover, which I still actively wish would become canon because of this fic. I think it’s so IC, especially with Michael’s active wish not to talk about it that he screws himself over in his sleep and seriously, it’s such a good read for both Isobel & Michael stuff, but also Michael & Alex.

the first who ever did - nostaljinks

Five times Michael saves Alex + 1 time Alex saves Michael back.

I feel like there aren’t enough words that I can heap onto this of praise. This fic is well-written, well-plotted, well-thought out, well-everything. It’s a beautiful emotional roller coaster and will make you ACHE, but in a great way. It also is the right amount of long that you want more, but you also get it, and it’s just as quality as the rest. ABSOLUTE must read.

fish bowl by @sabrinachill

Alex makes a series of phone calls and bad choices that lead him directly here — an Airstream on the edge of a junkyard with a distractingly attractive mechanic showing him how the dining table converts into a bed that he can sleep on for just $75 a week. It is, of course, completely absurd. But there’s something cozy about the fuzzy yellow blanket on the bed/table and the sparkling sunlight streaming through the mostly-clean windows, in the smell of leather and motor oil and aftershave and summer storms, in the hopeful half-smile on Michael’s face. That’s his name — Michael. Alex’s potential new roommate and landlord. (AKA An AU About Quarantined Roommates Who Fall in Love)

I highly recommend anything by @sabrinachill, but this fic is a really clear argument about why. It’s an AU that involves quarantine, and you might think ‘oh, I’ve read that before’, but then it will take you down the unexpected road that you didn’t expect to go down, but as soon as you take that twist, you instantly realize how much better it is that way. Hats off to the clever plotting not just in Fish Bowl, but other fics! 

Funny How Things Never Change - @waroftheposes​

“What can I do for you?” Michael asks, turning to face Alex. Alex can tell the moment that Michael’s mind registers who he’s addressing, because the polite smile drops from his face and the hat falls from his hand. He stands there, eyes wide and unbelieving, looking at Alex. Alex takes a deep breath, willing his racing heart to settle. “Well,” he begins and is his voice shaking? “For starters you can get your stubborn ass over here and give me a divorce.” – (A Sweet Home Alabama AU)

Yooooo, guess who was bereft when she thought she lost this link. It was absolutely me. This AU makes me happy in so many ways, especially the storms in the desert motif that keeps coming back around, and also that it’s messy. I like that it’s not cut and dry, that it goes right up until the wedding, and that it takes some real talk for them to get back together. I love fics where they all get to be human and this one is just so good. 

I Know Nothing Stays The Same by aewriting

“Alex doesn’t believe in miracles until one happens to him. His father has a hammer in one hand and Alex’s throat in the other. As Alex’s consciousness fades, he’s dimly aware of movement. His father’s about to swing the hammer, and this is how Alex will die.” When an unexplainable force puts a stop to Jesse’s attack in the shed, Alex and Michael are forced to go on the run. Leaving Roswell is an easy decision, but navigating the consequences of that choice months and even years later proves to be much more complicated.

I think this one became a must read very early on, but then it’s continued to deliver. There’s been a few stories that delve into the characters getting therapy, but there’s a whole chapter here where it genuinely feels cathartic as we go through the process with Alex. This fic also is an excellent and long version of an AU I think that we’ve all wondered, about what would happen if they ran away, and it’s so well written and so real that I know I will be re-reading this a ton. Like many of the others, why I love it is because it’s not perfection, but it’s the kind of real where I want to wrap myself up in it. 

i won’t go, i can’t do it on my own by @queersirius

alex tries to let go by giving back the pieces of michael he’s kept

Millie has a bunch of AMAZING AUs (guys, the 10 Things I Hate About You is something I never thought I’d get, especially from a favourite author), but i think this one is actually my favourite, especially when it comes to the ship piece that Alex has. Again, when I talk about ‘fics that make me want to be better’, this one was one. The writing is engaging, the characterization is fabulous, and the emotions are so honest and real. Then there’s this line, like a gut punch:  “Because it’s the last thing I have of you,” he admits. “The last piece of you I have to let go of.” which I love because it’s still Alex’s journey, an honest attempt to offer closure (if closure is wanted). 

in some other life - @spaceskam​

michael tries to build a time machine, but ends up in a different reality all together

There are a lot of these that have been written and they are all quality, but I love this one especially because of how we get into Alex in the other universe, get the glimpse of this unknown Michael, but also the scene that strikes this one out for me is that Alex doesn’t want to let him go. I love that Alex gets to be selfish, that he begs for him to stay, and that we don’t get the automatic happy ending in that, but there’s still the hope for it. Also, Alex the Angel, unf. 

intimate encounters of the third kind by @alexmanes

Three years after Antar and its people take Earth under their wings, Roswell becomes the epicenter for human-alien relations between both planets. It doesn’t take very long for Alex Manes to find himself embroiled in a scandal that threatens this intergalactic partnership, all thanks to a beautiful man named Michael Guerin who is not nearly as human as he claims to be.

Okay, so, if you like No Love Like Your Love, the truth is that you have this fic to thank. This was my first introduction in RNM fandom as to what a really amazing fic could be that incorporated the royalty elements into the pairing. Once 1x12 aired and we met Michael’s mother, it was pretty much a done deal that I wanted to do something that played with that, but this is the actual inspiration. It’s well plotted, it has a great ensemble cast, and plays with the kind of care that it takes to know your plot inside and out, but also to leave breadcrumbs that guide the reader along. It’s very methodical in the sense that nothing is by accident and it has you on the edge of your seat.

It’s a long road back to you by @magsthemagical

Michael finds out that Alex is dating Forrest and he’s okay with it, until he’s not. Maria suggests a double date to show they can all hang out as friends. But they can’t… not really. [OR the one where Michael & Alex realize that they belong together and so they say goodbye to their respective relationships and start anew]

Honest truth time - in terms of ‘ships, while I always love people to ship and let ship, my personal preference for both Michael and Alex is one another, so both Maria/Michael and Forrest/Alex aren’t things that I usually seek out when trawling Ao3. This fic is so good to all parties involved. No one is a villain and I appreciate that they get to talk about things like Alex’s reticence to do certain things in public, but also being aware that Alex deserves to have something new as much as Michael.

Last Stop: This Town by @ubiestcaelum

Someone asked what it would have been like if Michael had gone home with the Evan’s and I couldn’t let it go.

Am I cheating because I requested this? idk, maybe, because another one I requested will end up here too. I am addicted to the idea of Michael getting the support system he needs, but THIS FIC takes it to the most impossibly amazing level and fleshes out the Evans parents in such an incredible way. I love that it’s not super sunshine and rainbows, but it’s an honest telling of raising kids (and maybe too many kids versus what you expected). I know this is only in progress (several today will be), but even as it is, it’s worth reading multiple times, because I know I have.

let me count the ways by @queersirius

liz ortecho isn’t allowed to date until her snarky, determined-not-to-date brother, alex ortecho, does. luckily, one of her suitors has a plan. well, max goes to isobel for a plan, which involves getting their brother, michael, to woo alex. or, the 10 things i hate about you AU

Obviously this needs to be here as I desperately pleaded for it to exist, but it’s so beyond what it might be as a mini tumblr ficlet and has become a whole world. It’s not just a great Malex story, it’s an amazing story for all the characters and really fleshes out a world, but weaves in the RNM characters perfectly, but also gives me a dynamic I want more of, in Alex being an Ortecho. It’s not quite finished yet, but Millie has never steered us wrong and I can’t wait for more.

Loathly by @aewriting

When King Manes and his sons are caught illegally hunting on Antarian lands, King Noah gives King Manes a choice - correctly answer a riddle or accept death. A year-long search for the correct answer ensues, leading the youngest son of the king, Alex, to strike a bargain with a mysterious woman who claims to know the answer. This is an AU of the Arthurian legend “Sir Gawain and the Dame Ragnell.”

Love at First Sass - @daffietjuh

Taking a class of 30 high school kids on a school trip to an Air Force base was about as exhausting as it sounds, luckily, the Captain giving them the tour is perfectly capable of handling a group of rowdy teenagers. Michael may be slightly in love Okay, so first of all, if you haven’t read any of the author’s other work, you should. The AUs are fantastic and the hockey one is still one of my favourites ever, but this one also just was exactly what I needed. It was sexy and flirty and fun, but also fit their personalities perfectly!

Everything in the Michael Sanders AU, by prouvaireafterdark which is a fantastic series that gives us what we all wanted, which is Walt Sanders giving Michael the home he deserved (and getting one right back).

My love is a life taker by @jocarthage

By the time he turned 15, Captain Alex Manes had been to every war zone and unofficial conflict the United States of America was involved in. It wasn’t regular practice, or even heard of, for a Colonel to bring his son along on combat missions; the exception was if the child had been identified as Time Aware, able to travel in time along their own timeline using stolen alien technology. So here Alex Manes was, 28, and ducking bombs, killing who he’s told to. On his way back from a mission, Alex slips into another timestream. It should be impossible. But he can hear a child crying and he heads towards the sound. This is the story of how Alex saved Michael and Michael saved Alex, with lots of time travel shenanigans and angst.

This story is incredible for so many reasons and one of them I continue to praise is the balance. It’s an Alex driven story, but you can break his life down into friends, mission, family, and Michael, and often those elements combine, but there’s never any update that doesn’t give you enough (imo). It’s excellent writing with engaging OCs and wonderful plot, and the most incredible love story.

not in this world (or the next) by @hannah-writes

It isn’t until he realises he can’t find the keys for his fucking truck anywhere and that there’s mail on the table addressed to Mr M Evans that Noah called him ‘Evans’, too. He fumbles inside the wallet that he’d managed to locate and pulls out a New Mexico licence with his picture on it; he doesn’t have a black eye and a split lip in this one, his hair’s tamed and he doesn’t look like he’s gone three days without showering. His date of birth is stamped, clear and correct, but then where his name should read ‘Michael Guerin’, it reads “Michael Evans’ and the address registered on the license is that of Max and Isobel’s childhood home. Noah had also said ‘your mom’s’. Not ‘Mrs Evans’. It feels like a bucket of ice water’s dumped over his head as he finally accepts that something is very, very wrong. (aka, the fic spawned from a tumblr prompt about Michael waking up in a parallel reality.)

This one, guys. This is an absolute beast of angst and love and a really well plotted story, but also is really amazing for how it creates Mikey, but also creates motive behind what drives both Michael and Mikey in ways that are the same, but also different. Genuinely, this fic is a great read because you get so much attention to the characters while also driving along the relationships, and who they are. 

nursery sharks by christchex

Six firsts in the Sanders household and a second.

Otherwise Engaged by JustAsSweet

Alex Manes was perfectly happy with his job at Colden Records but when his visa is rejected and deportation looms, marrying his assistant Michael Evans is his only option. And when they make a trip to Alaska to see Michael’s family, everything becomes a lot more complicated.

AKA: The Proposal AU that no one asked for but I wrote anyway.

Shadow Work - @myrmidryad

After his discharge from the Air Force, Alex Manes is working as a shade - a professional ghost hunter - when Michael Guerin tracks him down. Alex left Roswell thirteen years ago and never went back, but overnight Michael’s family has vanished and the supernatural activity in Roswell has exploded, and he wants Alex’s help. Featuring: ghosts, more ghosts, metaphorical ghosts, and a lot of sex without talking about feelings. Also missing family members, government conspiracies, and gratuitous worldbuilding.

No, YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND. I can’t rec this enough. Literally, this is a novel-type rec. If this were a book on a shelf, I would be shouting that you need to go read it, because it is literally good enough to be a published work on a best-selling list. It’s so fucking good. Every time you think it can’t get better, it does. It has nuance and plot and world-building and it is So. Fucking. Good. I could sit here and sing praises all day and it still wouldn’t be enough. Please give yourself a holiday treat and read it.

The World Forgetting, By The World Forgot by Anonymous

Michael and Alex erase each other from their memories. It does not go according to plan. [Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Roswell style]

I mean, I could rec anything by Anonymous and it would be worth your read. They’re so good and so in character,  but this one is my favourite. It’s angsty as fuck, don’t get me wrong, but it plays with the movie plot in such a Roswell-specific way that makes sense that I honestly never even compared or contrasted it to the movie past the first few beats. The pain is visceral, and the memory loss segment is incredible, but also delivers on a positive ending. 

To Trust Love by @laughsalot3412 

The prisoner’s voice sounded like home. He could have been raised in Roswell, the way his accent stretched his vowels. He definitely hadn’t been. Alex would have remembered eyes like those. (AU where Alex Manes goes on an undercover rescue mission in Caulfield Prison and forms a bond with one of the prisoners in the process.)

I don’t have enough words in the English language to praise this one. Honestly, I don’t. For one, the pace and the length is perfect. That we got the parts as quickly as we did was honestly such a treat, but then every part was just as high quality as the last. There are chapters in this one that made me go, “holy shit, this would’ve been a novel I read”, and then there are little emotional impacts where the tone shifts, but it works so well. It’s SO HOT, and the AU is so perfect, and also helped inspire the one that I wrote last night with the “genie”. 

Unwind Me - delgay

“Think you can manage that? Sitting next to me, without picking a fight?” Michael challenged. “Can you?” Alex returned. “No idea,” Michael admitted with a sideways grin that never failed to make Alex’s stomach turn over, “But I’m eager to find out.” Alex is avoiding everyone, but he can’t seem to escape Michael.

This whole fic is intensely amazing, but it got on my rec list for the absolutely electric scene with the dancing that was absolutely beyond incredible. You also get Michael courting Alex, which is something he utterly deserves and I love the way Michael goes about it. 

we feel so american by thepredatorywasp

“Papa’s on the spaceship again?” River asks, his bright green eyes welling with tears and his face growing red. “Comin’ back?” “Of course he is,” Alex says, smoothing down the son’s hair and adjusting the Mickey ears atop his head. “Always.” There is no easy way to explain to your three year-old that not only is he an alien, but his Papa is an alien and that apparently, Michael loves leaning hard into irony because he has gone on Space Mountain approximately ten times over the course of four days.

LOOK. I LOVE A SWEET KID FIC. The next rec will prove this, but this one will melt your fucking heart. I love it because it’s not perfect and easy. There’s difficulties, there are issues, but it’s Michael and Alex and their baby boy in Disney and if you do not come away feeling warmer from this, then I just don’t know. 

We’re Waking Up Slow by myrmyriad

“I think need a little time to process all of this. Um. Storm’s getting closer and I don’t really wanna get snowed in here, so…let’s just talk later, okay?” What if the storm that blew in during S01E10 came in a lot faster and heavier, and Alex was snowed in at the junkyard?

Again, fic that makes me wish that I could write as well as this. This one makes you feel it all. You’ll feel the cold, the wet, the storm, the pain, the hope, the healing. You feel the connection between Michael and Alex, and you’ll be left wishing at the end that this had been how canon went, but also that it’s justifiably not that far off from how it could have, had they taken a different tack, because of how well it’s written. 

What’s Up, Pregnant? by Marie_L

Michael Guerin is broke, practically homeless, and a knocked up secret alien. What now?

Speaking of kid fics, this mpreg is one that I really like, because if nothing else, it introduced the concept of mpreg using pods to me in the fandom, and I kind of went, “YES, of course”. I love that it’s got everyone rallying, but I mostly love the psychic connection between Michael and his baby, and the softness of loving sugar and Alex. 

With Love Overflowing by Nestra

"We both agree that this is not the place we belong, right? Please say yes."

Michael tossed his hat on the coffee table and dropped onto the couch. "If you mean that your dad's been dead since CrashCon and some kind of crazy shit is going on, then yeah, I agree."

(This one was for me for Secret Santa, it is just THAT GOOD that I want everyone in the world to read it)

x marks the spot (where we fell apart) by catching_paper_moons, preciousthings

“Don’t write it off,” Alex says, and Liz is so relieved someone is coming to her defense, even if it’s someone who already knew beforehand. “Liz and Kyle have ideas, and there are people in this room with literal superpowers. It’s pretty much our only option.” “Our only option?” Isobel scoffs. “What are we, Ocean’s Eleven?”

[hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall]

Chains of Destiny - Decision (Ch.2)

Summary:Eva needs to make a decision, whether she stays and tries for s new life or she gives up completely.

Content Warning: hurt, pain, angst a bit of fluff if you squint

Author's note: There's no Logan in this one, so please bear with me. I feel like the things are going a bit too fast, but let me know :)

Tags: @danicl25 @mxrtiaxv @ayamenimthiriel @jinndesu

Eva lay in the quiet stillness of the med bay, her body half-covered by the scratchy hospital blanket. The constant hum of machines monitoring her vitals droned in the background, but her mind raced, unable to settle. The last week had been a blur—rescue, confusion, pain. Now, a strange quiet surrounded her, the kind she hadn’t known in years.

The sterile smell of antiseptic lingered in the air, but it wasn’t the harsh scent of the lab. It was… clean. It felt safer. Safer than she ever thought she’d feel again. But safety felt foreign, unsettling.

Jean had been visiting her every day, checking in on her physical and mental health, her voice soft, patient. And Hank—Dr. McCoy, though he insisted she call him Hank—had been the one taking care of her wounds. The care they gave was strange, unearned, she thought. They looked at her like she was something worth helping, something worth saving. Eva couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen those kinds of eyes. She didn’t know how to respond to it.

As much as she wanted to believe she could trust them, there was always a voice in the back of her mind. *What if it’s just another trap? What if they’re just pretending?* Her thoughts would drift to the things Logan had said—the things he hadn't said but showed in every look of distrust he shot her way. His words had stung more than the countless needles she’d been subjected to in that lab.

"You're dangerous. A threat." 

She closed her eyes, the weight of those words heavy on her chest. Logan didn't want her here. Maybe he was right. 

Every time she thought about him, that cold, distant stare, her resolve faltered. It was hard not to believe him, especially when he didn’t even try to hide his contempt. His distrust sat like a stone in her stomach. Even when Jean would try to reassure her that things would get better, that she had a future here at the school, Logan’s words would echo, pulling her back into the dark place inside her.

But there were other moments. Moments when she felt a flicker of something different. Like when she saw the students outside the hospital window. Some of them had powers like hers—strange, impossible things that she would’ve never imagined. Yet here, they laughed, played, trained… like none of it was a curse. Like it was just part of them. They weren’t afraid. Or, if they were, they were trying to overcome it. 

It had been so long since she had seen people… living. Free. 

Part of her longed to be part of that. 

*Could that ever be me?* 

The question haunted her, gnawed at the edges of her thoughts as she watched the kids go about their day, training with the X-Men, studying with each other, and even bickering like they didn’t carry the same weight she did. Could she fit in here? Could she be more than what she had been made into?

But every time she felt that small spark of hope, Logan’s glare extinguished it. He was right, wasn't he? She was too dangerous, too broken. A ticking bomb. And even if she wanted to trust the others—Jean with her kindness, Charles with his calming presence, Hank with his warm humor—Logan would always be there, waiting to prove that she didn’t belong.

She sighed, shifting uncomfortably in the bed. Her body still ached, though the physical wounds were healing. It was the mental ones that refused to fade. She still felt trapped, like at any moment the walls would close in, the straps would tighten again, and she would be back in that lab. A puppet, a weapon, a monster.

And yet, Charles had said she was more than that. He had sat beside her just two days ago, his eyes kind and gentle as he spoke of the school, of the other students who had found their place here, despite their struggles.

“Eva, you don’t have to be alone anymore. You’re among people who understand you. People who want to help.”

She had wanted to believe him. God, she wanted to. But a life of torture and manipulation had taught her to be wary of hope. Hope was a trap. Still, there was something about Charles, about the way he spoke, that made her want to believe. 

She ran her hand along the handcuffs they had placed on her wrists, the ones that dulled her powers just enough to keep them in check. They weren't like the ones in the lab. They weren’t meant to hurt her, just to protect the others. Jean had explained that gently, as if she knew how much Eva hated anything that restrained her.

Even so, the cuffs were a constant reminder of why she couldn’t let herself believe she belonged here. A reminder that no matter how much Charles, Jean, and the others might try to make her feel welcome, she was still dangerous. She was still a threat.

The door to the room creaked open, and Jean stepped in, her red hair catching the low light. She gave Eva a small, reassuring smile.

“How are you feeling today?” Jean asked, pulling up a chair beside her bed.

Eva hesitated, unsure of what to say. “I don’t know… Better, I guess.”

Jean nodded, her eyes full of that same quiet understanding she always carried. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now.”

But that was just it. Eva wasn’t sure she’d ever have the answers. What if Logan was right? What if she didn’t belong here? What if she was just putting everyone in danger by staying?

“I don’t know if I should be here,” Eva whispered, voicing the fear that had been gnawing at her all week. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Jean’s face softened, and she reached out, gently placing her hand on Eva’s wrist, just above the cuff. “We don’t want you to hurt anyone either, Eva. But we also believe that you deserve a chance to learn, to control your powers. That’s what we do here. We help each other.”

Eva looked away, her chest tightening. "Logan doesn’t think I can be helped. He thinks I should… leave.”

Jean sighed softly, her thumb brushing lightly over Eva’s skin. “Logan has his reasons, but he’s not always right. He doesn’t know what you’re capable of. And… he’s been hurt, too. In ways that make him put up walls. But I believe in you. Charles believes in you. We’re not giving up on you.”

Eva wanted to believe her. She wanted so badly to believe that maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to live without hurting the people around her. But Logan’s words still weighed her down, pulling her back into the darkness she had barely escaped.

“I just don’t know if I can do it,” she whispered.

Jean squeezed her hand gently. “You don’t have to do it alone.”

Eva stayed quiet, her thoughts swirling in confusion. She didn't know what her future held, but for the first time in a long time, there was a part of her—a small, fragile part—that wanted to try. Maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to belong here. Maybe she could learn to trust herself again. 

But Logan’s shadow still loomed large, and she didn’t know how to silence it.

***

“Can I ask you something?”

Hank raised an eyebrow, caught off guard. It was the first time Eva had initiated a conversation. She usually only answered his questions with short, guarded responses. But this—this was new.

“Of course,” he replied gently, tapping a few keys on the monitor. It had become a routine now. She’d been at the mansion for over a week, and her vitals had steadily improved. She was gaining weight, her cheeks less hollow, and her eyes not as sunken as before. Slowly, ever so slowly, she was beginning to look like the young woman she was, rather than the starved, haunted figure they’d first brought in.

“I actually have three questions,” she continued, her voice hesitant, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks when Hank chuckled softly at her tone. 

“Go on,” he encouraged, giving her his full attention.

She swallowed and shifted her gaze toward the window, her fingers fidgeting nervously. “I haven’t seen Logan lately. I know he... hates me, but I was wondering... did something happen?”

Hank smiled gently, sensing the weight of the question. “I don’t think Logan hates you,” he said, turning his chair to face her fully. “He’s... complicated. A tough guy with a past that haunts him. He can seem like a jerk, but in the end, Logan always does the right thing. He just... needs time. If that’s something you’re willing to give him.”

Eva frowned, her expression tightening in confusion. Hank could see the uncertainty in her eyes—the idea of being given a choice was still foreign to her. 

“And he’s away on a mission,” Hank added quickly. “Charles sends him out from time to time, so don’t worry—it has nothing to do with you.”

“So... it’s not my fault he’s not here?” she asked quietly.

“Not at all,” Hank assured her. He noticed the small shift in her posture, a slight easing of tension. It wasn’t much, but it was something. “What’s your second question?”

Eva hesitated again, her eyes darting back to the floor. “Is this really... a school?”

Hank laughed, a genuine, lighthearted sound that made her blush even more. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, seeing her embarrassment. “It’s just that you’re not the first to ask that.”

She bit her lip, unsure. “It just... doesn’t feel like one.”

Hank smiled, trying to put her at ease. “It’s a school, just like any other. We have classes on math, science, history—boring, normal subjects. But we also have classes for mutants. Those help our students learn to control their abilities, to understand what makes them unique.”

Her curiosity piqued, Hank could see it in the way she sat up a little straighter, eyes more focused. “Mutant classes?”

“Exactly. As Charles mentioned, many kids come to us unable to control their powers. We’re here to help them adjust, to make those abilities second nature. And we’d like to help you do the same, if that’s something you’d want.”

There was a fleeting smile on her lips, small but noticeable. Hank knew it would take time for her to fully trust them—to believe that they truly wanted to help her. Her powers, though dangerous, could be an incredible asset. He was patient, willing to wait however long she needed.

“I...” She paused, her entire body tensing. Her fingers started to twist around each other nervously, and Hank remained quiet, letting her gather her courage. “It’s kind of embarrassing,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t push, simply waited.

“I... never went to school,” she admitted, her gaze shifting to the window, as though she couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. “I don’t even know how old I am, not exactly. I’ve been with them... for over fifteen years, they said, So I must be in my 20s. But... I never learned to read. I don’t know... anything, really.”

The revelation hung in the air, and Hank felt a knot tighten in his chest. It wasn’t surprising, not after everything she’d been through, but hearing her say it—hearing her speak the truth of her stolen childhood—hit him harder than he expected.

“It’s really stupid but...” Her voice wavered, and she opened the small drawer next to her bed, pulling out a thin book with a worn cover. “Mrs. Ororo gave me this. She was so kind, and I... I felt bad telling her I can’t read it.”

Hank’s heart clenched as he saw a few silent tears land on the book’s cover. Despite everything—despite being trained and used as a weapon—Eva still had a gentleness about her, a kindness that hadn’t been destroyed by those who had hurt her.

“Ororo,” Hank began, noting how she always addressed them with such formality despite their efforts to get her to relax. “She also teaches some of the younger kids. I’m sure she’d be more than happy to help you learn the basics too.”

Eva’s eyes widened, a spark of hope flickering in their depths. “Isn’t it... embarrassing though? I mean... I’m an adult.”

Hank gently took her hand, careful to move slowly, watching for any signs of discomfort. But she didn’t flinch—not like she used to. That, in itself, was progress.

“Eva,” he said softly, “the ability to learn was stolen from you. You’ve lived through things no one should have to. But the fact that you still want to learn—that you want a chance at a normal life—well, that’s something to be proud of.”

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she smiled, just a little. “Professor Charles said I have a right to a normal life... but I don’t know if I believe that yet. I don’t know if I deserve it. But... that book does look interesting.”

Hank smiled back, warmth spreading through his chest. He promised himself to speak to Ororo and Charles, to make sure Eva would receive the education she deserved—not out of pity, but because it was her right. Like any human being, she had the right to learn, to grow, and to live.

And for the first time since she arrived, Hank believed she was starting to realize that too.

***

Charles Xavier sat in the stillness of his office, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. Outside the mansion, he could hear the faint sounds of students laughing and playing, the echoes of a life he had built to protect and nurture the young minds of mutants. But his thoughts were with one particular student, the one who had just arrived—the one who lingered in the hospital wing, far from the warmth and hope of those outside.

Eva.

He closed his eyes, resting his hands on the arms of his wheelchair, and let his mind drift back to when they first found her. It had been worse than anything he could have prepared for. The physical scars, the hollowness in her eyes, the way she had flinched at every movement—it was as though she had been broken down to nothing. Tortured, manipulated, turned into a weapon by those who saw her not as a human being, but as something to be used.

He had seen many broken souls come through these doors over the years, each with their own pain and trauma. But Eva was different. There was something about her—a weight she carried that went beyond the torment she had endured. Her powers were unlike anything he had encountered, and that alone made her a danger to herself and to those around her. It wasn't just the sheer force of her abilities, but the instability that came with them, the unpredictability.

Her mind was a labyrinth of pain and confusion, walls erected so high he could barely touch the edges. He had tried to reach her, to offer some form of comfort or understanding, but each time he felt her pull back, retreating into herself. It was as if she didn’t know who she was anymore, as if the very concept of herself had been stripped away, leaving behind a shell. 

And her powers... Charles had seen snippets of them, enough to know that they were both incredible and terrifying. She was capable of immense destruction, and yet, there was a delicate balance, an untapped potential that could shift either way. If they didn’t approach her with care, if they didn’t handle her powers with the right method, she could be lost to that destruction—or worse, others could.

But how do you teach someone to control something they barely understand? How do you guide someone whose life had been ruled by fear and cruelty into believing they deserve a place in the world? These were the questions that weighed on him, gnawing at his mind every time he thought about her.

He knew she needed time, patience. He knew they had to approach her gently, to make her believe in her worth before they could even begin to tackle the complexities of her powers. And yet, time was something they didn’t have the luxury of. The people who had taken her, who had done this to her—they were still out there. And there was always the chance they could come back for her. They had turned her into a weapon once, and Charles had no doubt they would try again.

And then there was Logan.

Charles sighed deeply, opening his eyes and staring out of the window at the expansive grounds of the mansion. The truth gnawed at him, but he had been avoiding it for days now. Logan was... volatile, a man who had his own share of demons to wrestle with. He had kept his distance from Eva since her arrival, and in many ways, Charles understood why. Logan was a man who preferred to keep others at arm's length, especially when it came to something—or someone—that touched his own vulnerabilities.

Yet, Logan was the only one who could truly help Eva. As much as Charles wanted to guide her, as much as Hank and Jean had been there for her, Logan was the one who understood the darkness that lived in the corners of her mind. He was the one who had fought tooth and nail against the forces trying to control him, the one who had found his own way back from the edge of the abyss.

It was a painful realization, but it was true. Logan, in all his rough edges, had a connection to her that no one else could mimic. He had survived being used, being turned into something against his will—and that was what Eva needed now. Not just someone who could show her how to control her powers, but someone who could teach her how to fight back against the pieces of herself that had been stolen. Logan knew that struggle better than anyone.

But Charles also knew what it would mean to ask Logan to step in. Their relationship, already fragile, had become strained over Eva. Logan had been one of the loudest voices against bringing her to the school. He had seen her as too dangerous, too far gone to be helped, and Charles feared that in his heart, Logan still believed that. It would take a lot for him to see past the fear and the pain that Eva reminded him of.

He didn’t want to force Logan into this role, but he also knew that if anyone could reach her—truly reach her—it would be him. The question was, how could he convince Logan of that without making him feel like he was being burdened with a task he hadn’t asked for?

Charles rubbed his temples, the weight of his thoughts exhausting him. He had faced many challenges in his life, many difficult decisions, but this one felt different. Eva wasn’t just another student. She was fragile, vulnerable, and one wrong step could send her spiraling further into the darkness. He couldn’t afford to make a mistake with her.

Eventually, with a sigh, he came to a decision. He had to speak to Logan. It wasn’t going to be easy, and he wasn’t sure how Logan would respond, but he knew it had to be done. For Eva’s sake, and perhaps for Logan’s too. Maybe, in helping her, Logan could find a way to heal some of his own wounds.

But convincing Logan—that was the challenge.

Charles leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as his mind began to plan out the conversation, rehearsing words he knew would be hard to say, and even harder for Logan to hear.

***

When Charles first heard from Jean that Eva wanted to speak with him, it caught him off guard. He had heard from Hank about their conversation earlier that week, but he never imagined she’d reach out so soon, let alone initiate a conversation herself. She had only been here for two weeks. Both Jean and Hank had discussed moving her out of the infirmary, but given everything she had been through, Charles hadn’t expected her to progress this quickly. Still, he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride for the quiet strides she was making.

He also had to reluctantly agree with Jean—her progress seemed to have coincided with Logan’s absence. Without Logan’s brooding presence, Eva had started to relax, just a little. She was still closed off, fearful of those around her, but she was no longer the hollowed-out shell of a person they had first rescued. Slowly, step by step, she was beginning to resemble the young woman she was meant to be.

When Charles wheeled into her room, he found her sitting by the window, staring out at the evening sky. Her eyes, though still guarded, were filled with a curiosity that gave him hope. Despite all the horrors she had endured, despite the darkness that had been forced upon her, Eva had not completely given up on the world. Not yet.

"Mind if I join you?" Charles asked softly.

She jumped slightly at the sound of his voice but quickly nodded, offering him a shy, almost apologetic smile. He rolled closer to her bedside and gave her a warm, reassuring look.

"I think you’ll be able to see those stars from outside soon enough," he began, noticing the way her body tensed at the mention of leaving her sanctuary. “Jean told me you’ve been making wonderful progress with your recovery.”

Eva fidgeted with her fingers, her eyes still cast downward. “I… I wanted to talk to you about that,” she murmured. "I’m still not sure I can become the person you think I can be."

Charles stayed silent, letting her find her words, knowing that initiating this conversation was a big step for her.

"But I…” She glanced nervously at the small book on the shelf nearby, her gaze landing on the book she’d been reading. “Mrs. Ororo… she’s been teaching me how to read,” she said awkwardly, swallowing hard. “It would be… mean to just leave now.” Her eyes darted around the room, as if searching for the right way to express herself. "You know what I mean?"

Charles couldn’t help but smile at her sincerity. Beneath all the fear, she was still a person trying to find her way. “Yes, I’ve heard Storm is taking your reading lessons quite seriously. It would be a shame to quit now, wouldn’t it?”

A small, relieved smile tugged at the corners of Eva’s lips. For the first time in the conversation, she seemed to relax. But Charles knew there was more on her mind.

“There’s something else you want to talk about, isn’t there?” he prompted gently.

Eva sighed, knowing she couldn’t hide her thoughts from him. She appreciated that he didn’t pry, that he kept his promise not to read her mind unless necessary, but his insight into people’s emotions was uncanny. 

"I can’t stay here," she said finally, her voice firmer this time.

Charles tilted his head slightly, waiting for her to continue.

"This school…" Eva hesitated, her eyes darting out the window again. "I’ve been watching the students, the staff… and I can’t be around them. I could never forgive myself if I hurt someone. You’ve all been so kind to me, and I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but I can’t… I can’t train here. I can’t learn here. Me being here, so close to everyone—it’s too dangerous."

Her words hung in the air, heavy with the burden she carried. Charles’ heart ached for her, for the way she was still trapped in a prison of fear and guilt, even after escaping the people who had turned her into a weapon.

“I know I’m dangerous,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve heard it enough—first from them, and then… from Logan.”

Charles opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off before he could.

“He’s right,” she said, shaking her head. “I am dangerous. What you’ve all seen of my powers… that’s not even the worst of it. There’s so much more. And if I let myself have a chance at life… I need to know I won’t take that chance away from someone else.”

Charles looked at her, the weight of her words sinking in. Despite everything she had been through, she was still thinking of others before herself. She still saw herself as a threat, but it was her selflessness that stood out to him.

“There’s a safe house, not far from here,” he said softly, his eyes shifting to the growing twilight outside. The first stars had begun to appear, tiny specks of light against the darkening sky. “It’s secluded, away from the main campus. We’ll move you there at the end of the week. You can stay there, away from the students, until you feel ready.”

Eva’s eyes widened at his words, a mixture of surprise and disbelief flickering across her face.

“You… you’ll still want me here? After I’ve learned to control my powers?” Her voice wavered, as though she had never even considered the possibility.

Charles frowned slightly, concerned by the depth of her surprise. He reached out, placing his hand gently over hers. "Eva, we’re a family here. You are part of that now, whether you believe it or not. We’re not going to cast you aside the moment you learn control. We want you here."

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she blinked rapidly, trying to hide the emotion that overwhelmed her. "I thought… I thought once I wasn’t a danger, you’d want me to leave."

Charles smiled softly, squeezing her hand gently. “We don’t give up on people, Eva. Not here.”

She looked at him through tear-filled eyes, a soft smile finally breaking through the sadness. For the first time in as long as she could remember, there was a sliver of hope, a glimmer of possibility that maybe—just maybe—she could have a future. A life.

"We’re all in this together," Charles added, his voice warm. "You’re not alone anymore."

Her smile grew, and even though through the tears, it was one of the most beautiful things Charles had seen in a long time.

[fitsofdespair]

i have hesitated to say anything before now. in part because i removed myself from fandom discourse and really from actively discussing iwtv a year ago. i consider it all a lose-lose situation.

but also because i’m generally of the opinion that black fans don’t need people to be their white saviors, least of all me. black people have never been saved by white people. they were never just given anything when it comes to strides in equality, they fought for it and still fight for it, against constant violent pushback every step of the way. only instead of the good ole’ days when racists just called those fighting for equality uppity, they’re now “bullies” for daring to call you out on your shit after the repeated condescension and the resulting harassment you’ve exhibited towards them.

in this day and age the word bully has zero meaning anymore. i mean come on, melania trump calls people mean about her husband bullies. elon musk thinks he’s being bullied by twitter users, though he clearly holds all the power and is absolutely the problem. its become a meaningless word that goliaths use to call davids because they won’t use the real word they actually want to say. some of these popular blogs are not being bullied, they’re being held accountable for their own actions.

it’s pretty disgusting the number of you who decided to identify strongly with these users that not only fail to question their own racial biases but have gone so far as to suggest black people don’t face racism anymore. this is so fucked. tbh it can be argued in many ways white people, especially in the deep south where i’m from, are inherently raised steeped in racism, even if its not direct. just because your family aren’t ostensibly racist doesn’t mean they didn’t bake their own little prejudices into your upbringing and being raised in your environment didn’t encourage them. even if you don’t see yourself as racist, you have to unlearn all this shit, even if it never once occurred to you that you are part of it. just cause you believe in equality and don’t hate people for their color or cultural background does not make you free of perpetuating microaggressions against them. this applies to fans across the world of course. (like for you white euro iwtv fans, you may say you have no problem with black people but i’ve heard some wild things some of yall have to say about the turks.)

i understand that probably half or more of you are not usamericans. but no matter what environment you live in, no matter where you were raised, there is no excuse for your behavior. just because YOU don’t see racism in your day to day life or are in the more likely situation, too blindly comfortable in your place in society to notice it right in front of your face, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist as a constant presence in other parts of the world or isn’t deeply ensconced in online rhetoric.

so for you white iwtv fans who can’t be fucked to mention let alone defend people you, in many cases once called friend, against the absolute horseshit your current comrades are spewing wrapped up in their nice safe cocoons of victimhood, i hope you do some serious soul searching to figure out if this is who you are, a person too cowardly to call out a friend because it might cost you their friendship. a person quick to condemn others on hearsay because you couldn’t be fucked to wonder am i on the right side of this? and if you do manage to get wise and change your mind, remember its not unforgivable to say, you know what? i was wrong. i wrote in an old post that the hallmark of being a functional adult is changing your views accordingly when you learn new information or even just ruminate on what you know (i myself was a little bitch about ep 5 when it first dropped until i had to sit down and ask myself why i was actually feeling some kind of way about it). dying on a hill is not all its cracked up to be. being told you’re wrong is not always a personal attack and its often an opportunity for improvement if you can be bothered to genuinely hear other people out. an alarming number from all walks of life never figure that out. for my part, i am still learning and hope i never stop learning.

while that sentiments all nice and gooey (i mean them, but i understand its still sacharine to put out there), i am still guilty for not having directly written anything about this until now. and thats on me and i earned any flack i get for that. again, i am more of the mindset that black people don’t need white spokespeople, but that doesn’t mean they'll mind allies. and as a sidebar, going out of your way to say you are rising “above the noise” or “ignoring the drama” is absolutely your right, but it does not make you superior. it just makes you complacent with the status quo. i mean as long as you get to squee!! about anything and everything who cares about other people, right?

[butchriptide]

From what I gather, people tend to dislike Riptide because he’s just kind of some guy. He’s just awfully average. He’s only really describable vaguely because his personality isn’t very loud or well-spoken for. Next to Tsunami, he ends up hitting kind of dull, simply because she’s louder and bolder and, for the duration of her book, has a lot of other, more important shit she has to be getting to.

Ultimately, though, I like Riptide as much as I do because of these elements. I think he’s an interesting balance to the characters presented in Book 2, and I think he’s incredibly interesting as a love interest to Tsunami.

Riptide doesn’t really seem to aspire for much; nothing like the grand, sweeping, war-ending efforts of the DoD. He joins the Talons for information on his dad, which is perfectly understandable given that he was a dragonet when he did it, had no reason to believe they were abusing children under a mountain somewhere, and was already orphaned for the crime of being related to his deadbeat father.

He’s uniquely hated by, and also works for, a Queen known for flying off the handle and brutalizing guards in the main foyer. His simplicity in response to horrific circumstance is frankly compelling to me.

The fact that he remains a generally sweet, amicable person is interesting simply because I’d argue he has every right to be so much more bitter than he is. The quiet half-lengths of his personality make sense for someone who kind of necessitates the background, when his boss would happily kill him without second thought if she found the given impulse at any moment. Tending to omit information is an understandable practice if you’re kind of expecting to live with the guillotine above your head.

Maybe I’m just aromantic, and so I’m missing some secret element to romance writing that all the allos are keeping from me, but I didn’t really need more of Ripnami to be sold of the dynamic. They’re young love, they’re allowed to be fast to me. They don’t have to be built to last, but I think they’re cute if they or for however long they do. And frankly, I think Book 2 is incredibly well paced. It’s a mystery narrative, there’s not much time to get her kisses in while Tsunami’s solving what’s up with that murder statue.

Riptide’s presence in the book did sell me on the two of them though. In direct contrast to Coral, where Tsunami is her own DAUGHTER, Riptide simply… Trusts Tsunami’s competency and ability. At every turn. Yet he keeps information from her, as previously mentioned, but in every case where she’s had to strike out on her own in that book, he’s simply gone, “Okay. Stay Safe. I Believe In You.”

When Coral’s the most other prevalent relationship in the Sea Kingdom at that point-beyond Anemone who’s baby leashed and isn’t even allowed much in the way of her own personal opinion with Coral almost always around-It’s so important for Tsunami to have someone who wholesale believed in her abilities. After being loomed by the constant guilt and questioning and doubt of the Arena and Starflight’s sudden shift in behavior, it’s especially important that Riptide always trusted her personal character at that.

I think it makes sense that the Talons deal wouldn’t be a dealbreaker for Tsunami. She’s brash and opinionated, not unreasonable. Riptide, as mentioned, joined the Talons as a dragonet, and was kept much in the dark about the details of the DoD. Tsunami’s not so hasty as to not understand where he’s coming from or be able to get over it, especially not about someone she comes to care about.

I especially like them because there’s nothing in Riptide’s simplicity that inherently asks Tsunami to “settle down”. Tsunami is not someone wanting for an easy life, and I think Riptide’s reworking of the Talons of Peace in junction with the Jade Academy makes a lot of sense. I understand that, Oh, Kids Book, returning readers will be so excited to see old characters in new series! But I do think Tsunami feels a little shoehorned in at the Academy, and I ultimately think her epilogue of Arc 1 being helping with the Talons effort would’ve made more sense; especially with how her outrage with the original Talons are so outspoken, a very “never let this be used to hurt anyone else like me” type ending for her would’ve been sweet I think. She doesn’t really ever seem the teaching type, not even when she’s actively trying to be in Arc 2.

I just think maybe people don’t give Riptide the time of day, which is unfortunate, because he’s one of my favorites. He doesn’t get much, but I think what we do see implicates a lot of interesting subtext to him.

All that said, he’s still better as a butch he/him lesbian, but that’s not because i think he’s bad as is I just am also a lesbian. hope this helps

[vigilskeep]

here is my question barrage ^^' was keir already a reaver before he came to kirkwall? was he already aggressive/had he already used the same sort of masking he does in kirkwall? if not, what made him adopt that specific mask? what do bethany and leandra think of it? do any of the companions ever find out that it's a mask during the timeline of the game? what does he think of his mask, both during and after kirkwall? what does he think about how varric portrays him?

okay i LOVE these let's go

keir was not a reaver before he came to kirkwall; he becomes one at the end of the "act break breakdown", which is how i refer to a period of about a year after the end of act 1. losing bethany to the templars is indisputably his worst nightmare and he doesn't really process losing carver until then either. becoming a reaver is how he feels like he can regain control and become stronger, to avoid failing like that again. his companions have mixed opinions on it, and leandra especially doesn’t like it, but they’re also just very glad to have him back. he was spending a lot of time out of kirkwall and not really in contact with the others for a minute there

keir is a red hawke, his natural instinct is to be direct and honest and blunt, and part of the way he talks is due to him literally just not getting why it bothers people to talk straightforwardly and not knowing how to talk another way himself. he also is a mercenary for a living who will make threats and follow through, so the aggression isn’t a pretence, exactly. but the 24/7 over the top performance of aggression to everyone who isn’t his own, complete with the literal deeper voice that the male hawke VA puts on to do the aggressive lines, is what i would refer to as the mask

it’s not something he’s pretending to do or even has to think about. he’s worn it so long he’d have to make an effort to drop it. it kind of slowly built up over his life, with a few major upgrades. to begin with, very simply, he’s a neurodivergent kid who struggles socially, and moving from town to town, is pretty isolated to his parents who have abnormal social backgrounds for rural ferelden, and his siblings who are six years younger than him. also, if you play a red hawke, malcolm is canonically aggressive too, strict and angry and proud. little keir is strong, and when he can’t handle a social situation or wants to be alone, mimicking his father and playing aggressive works. the upgrades are: an incident when he’s fifteen and first kills a man and truly recognises the constant danger his mage family is in, when he’s twenty-three (i think it’s 23?) and his father dies and he has to do his best to step up and replace him like he promised, and of course when he’s twenty five, loses his brother and home fleeing the blight, and becomes a mercenary for hire in a city with the biggest templar presence in thedas. becoming a noble in kirkwall, it takes on other characteristics, like his rigid insistence on being visibly fereldan to the point of stereotype, and of course his becoming a reaver

a young bethany, up to act 1, takes the mask at face value because she looks up to him and believes in him implicitly. it makes her feel safe, but also a little inadequate and like she can’t discuss doubts with him. after spending some time away in the circle, she’s more cynical and independent, and she really is the main person who clocks that he’s pretending to be their father. to which she’s like... kind of cringe, isn’t it. MGHDJSKKSKS. when you can look past the mask to a scared kid playing at being his dad to look tough, the whole act loses a bit of its gravitas, especially when you’re his sister and never had to take any aggression/threat seriously. i mean, the deeper red hawke voice has literally just got to be him unconsciously trying to sound more like dad, how embarrassing is that. leandra by contrast buys into the mask a little too much, she relied a lot on him becoming his father, that’s part of why he did it in the first place

it’s hard for anyone but bethany to “find out” about the mask when they don’t know him without it and he can’t take it off. and like i say, it’s not a pretence, it comes so naturally it’s part of him. i would say isabela is the most aware. she does enough blustering herself to see past his; it’s his fierce love and loyalty she associates with him first, and his honesty, long before a few threats he throws around. fenris’ appreciation for strategy and merrill’s similar social struggles give them a little insight. varric and aveline see the least. sebastian has a bit of a different perspective because i don’t think he sees why you would put that on purposefully, when he’s killing himself biting it down being so bone-deep hungry jealous to be able to act on anger and violent instincts at will. anders is... a whole other thing i won’t get into because this post is already turrning out so long

keir is an essentially fearful—essentially terrified—person under his mask, and he believes that mask is a necessity. he doesn’t like the idea that he’s putting it on because he needs it, because any failure in it means a failure to fulfil this role he’s devoted his whole life to, and he also actually just doesn’t know how to interact with people otherwise. he stumbles through trying to be gentler. the mask just feels more essential as we build up to act 3, by which time it feels like meredith is constantly at his fucking throat and everyone is constantly watching. the way he acts gets more and more exaggerated at that point because a chink in the armour is death, and meredith holding all the cards means he’s held back from actually acting on any of his anger, so he feels he has to push harder to be taken seriously. and the more he talks, the more it’s obvious he’s all bark and no bite, the more threatened he feels. at that point meredith has his sister and anders and merrill are known apostates literally only alive and free on the weight of keir’s reputation. finally getting out of kirkwall—he really does hate kirkwall—is a giddy rush of fresh air. but it takes a lot of time and distance to even figure out how to drop it. like i say, he started doing this when he was fifteen, or even earlier, and it’s been a super useful crutch for everything he doesn’t know how to handle

keir doesn’t like the tale of the champion lmao and he makes no secret of that—i believe i wrote him saying he was going to throttle varric, the first time he picked up a copy—but it’s not that serious. he doesn’t care very much what your average person who isn’t a threat thinks of him, he’s not self-conscious that way, and it does play into how he was trying to act back then. his dislike is more about his and his friends’ personal business being out there, and also that varric said he had a beard. he has read it. he thinks it exaggerates his aggression, actually. every time there’s a red hawke dialogue line he feels is too much he reads it to anders and says “listen to this rubbish i don’t talk like that” and anders is like “[voice of offering painful truth but also trying not to laugh] love... i was there... that’s a direct quote”

[its-rat-time-babey]

I adore Spectra’s first appearance in My Brother’s Keeper. In fact I adore My Brother’s Keeper in general, as it’s my absolute favourite episode in the show.

One thing that I confidently say about the series as a whole is that it would be instantly improved if it leaned towards the more horror aspects of its concept. The show as a whole would be way better if parts of it were played for horror, and that goes DOUBLE for Spectra.

And that’s because Spectra in canon acts extremely differently compared to the other ghosts that Danny faces. Instead of being loud and flashy like the others, Spectra is a slow, creeping force.

Basically all other ghosts in the series are, just like how I described them before, pretty loud and flashy with their actions and fights. When they show up, everyone knows pretty quickly and Danny gets on the case not long after. Even villains that try to hide their ghostly attributes like Ember in her first appearance very quickly drop that facade once they’re face to face with Danny or once they get decently close to their goals.

But not Spectra. The only thing that gets Spectra to reveal herself as a ghost is being directly confronted with no other choice. Instead of being loud and flashy with her plans and actions, Spectra maintains her disguise through everything and goes about things quietly from the shadows. When she needs something loud and flashy, she has Bertrand do it for her to stay out of the spotlight.

And the results are terrifying to watch. Spectra latches onto Casper High like a parasite and we see her influence slowly creep through the school as the episode progresses. Students become more depressed as Spectra gives them the opposite of therapy and encourages negative behaviours, made even easier by her negative emotion generating presence, starting with just a few and ending with the entire student body being depressed. All while Danny struggles to figure out why because Spectra did what no other ghost even attempted to do and found a way to trick his ghost sense.

Not to mention that the final part of Spectra’s plan involved publicly killing Jazz (who from Spectra’s perspective is just some random student by the way) in front of the entire school to make everyone even more miserable.

When Spectra is defeated the school is described as “having a dark cloud over it lifted” because that sums up what Spectra is perfectly. A slowly creeping dark cloud that settles over an area and drags everything down.

My Brother’s Keeper is also perfect for Fridge Horror. Because I can point out three massive chunks of fridge horror right off the bat.

1. Spectra knows about Danny’s ghost sense and how to fool it, heavily implying that she’s been in the background for a while now stalking Danny from a distance to learn these things.

2. We very plainly see that this isn’t the first school that Spectra has visited and fed from, with multiple pictures of other schools that Spectra has worked at. There’s a 99% chance that those schools met the same fate that Spectra attempted to doom Casper High to, drained of all positive emotion with one or several student deaths before Spectra left. I say several student deaths because as Spectra states herself in the episode, one person’s spirit affects the next like dominos. The death of one student in a school full of extremely depressed and even traumatized teenagers depending on the circumstances could very easily lead to more deaths, which in turn lead to even more deaths.

3. Sidney Fucking Poindexter. It is very easy to understand the theory that he took his own life back in the 50s. He’s the ghost of a high schooler whose backstory involves constant relentless bullying with no friends or help, bullying so relentless that it became his main focus as a ghost. It’s all but directly stated that that’s the case. But stranger is the fact that a ton of his classmates also became ghosts. So many of his classmates exist in the ghost zone that an entire alternate version of Casper High exists there. So why are they here?

Because remember what I said about one student death causing several more? There’s a good chance that this isn’t the first time that Spectra came to Casper High. Sidney dying from suicide makes even more sense if Spectra was involved and a large amount of Casper High’s student body dying shortly after also has an explanation if she was there in the 50s.

——

I also really like My Brother’s Keeper because in my opinion, that’s the episode where Jazz’s character goes from her initial characterization as a Skeptic, Know-It-All and Perfectionist at the beginning of the series to her much better characterization as one of Danny’s best supporters and one of the best characters in general. It introduces her to ghosts for the first time for one, but it also reveals Danny’s identity as Phantom to her, and I’m obsessed with how good her reaction is from a character and meta perspective.

When Jazz learns that Danny is half-ghost, she doesn’t confront him for keeping secrets or anything like that, but instead quickly and easily accepts that Danny has his own reasons for wanting to keep his identity a secret and decides to let him come out to her when he’s ready to on his own. She also tries her best to make Danny feel comfortable with his identity around her with her “you can talk to me about anything” speech.

It’s an amazing bit of character that not only shows how much Jazz trusts, respects and just cares about Danny, but it’s also amazing out of universe because I seriously struggle to find any other character in fiction that’s acted this way when discovering someone’s secret identity, especially when that person is close to them.

Also the episode in general shows how much Jazz cares about her brother. Right off the bat at the beginning of the episode Jazz is talking to Mr Lancer about wanting to help him and Jazz mentions that she’s been worried about him ever since the accident (also giving us the lore that all the Fentons know about the accident and it wasn’t just a secret thing that only Danny, Sam and Tucker are aware of).

Also My Brother’s Keeper is absolutely RIPE with Trans Danny material. Jazz’s reaction to learning about Danny’s identity, Spectra’s quotes of “What are you? A ghost trying to fit in with humans? Or some creepy little boy with creepy little powers?” and “You're a freak! Not a ghost, not a boy! Who cares for a thing like you?”, it’s got some gems in there.

Also Trans Danny combined with Spectra’s quotes in this episode make her Danny’s only explicitly transphobic villain and that’s remarkably in character for her.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Rachel Connolly:

Earlier this year, I had a bout of what my friends and I term “mental health”. I was always tired. I couldn’t concentrate. I felt burnt out by the volume of communication that social media facilitates. I am 31 and, like many people my age, I’m in multiple group chats on WhatsApp and often find myself added to new ones. I use Instagram to post work and selfies, and to chat with people via the DM function. I use X similarly. (I’m too old for TikTok.) I enjoy some of this. I like talking nonsense with my friends. But I’d started to question how deliberate much of it was. I’d find myself posting a picture of a book I was reading and think, why do I need an audience to read? I began to wonder if, in the cycle of curating, recording and publicising our lives on social media, the things we do that are not seen and affirmed by people online feel somehow less “real”. My work as a writer means I probably get more online communication than the average person. Last year I published my first novel, and I have since noticed the slightly strange way that novels are discussed online. I get tagged in Instagram posts saying that my book is about a messy girl, a sad girl, a distant girl or a cold girl. There is an algorithmic basis to this. The easiest way to attract attention on social media is to talk about a trend everyone else is talking about, or to slot whatever you’re talking about into one of these trends.

So everywhere you look it is Brat summers or trad wives, cottage-core or bloke-core, high-functioning anxiety, parentified children or whatever happens to be the latest term for pathologising your life experience. Everything is flattened, simplified. I worried that being immersed in it was making me think this way too. A friend recently got a “dumb” phone, a Nokia 3210, to use when she’s out of the house. She leaves her smartphone at home like a landline. It has made her happier, she says. I needed a break too, but I was drawn to the idea of spending some time cut off from all communication. A reset, of sorts. I found a weekend-long silent retreat, no phones allowed, and booked myself in. My craving for a break is not uncommon. Social media is such a constant background presence in our lives that it’s easy to forget how recent it is. Facebook, which feels impossibly passé, is only 20. Instagram is not yet 15. Researchers first used the term “digital detox”, to refer to a period of abstention from phones and laptops, in 2012, around the same time that social media was really taking off (chat rooms had been around since the turn of the 1990s without the concept surfacing).

Digital detoxes remained unusual for a time. In 2015, Essena O’Neill, an Australian influencer with 612,000 Instagram followers, made news around the world when she released a statement about quitting the platform. Today, similar moves by celebrities are so common they barely make headlines. Billie Eilish deleted all social media apps from her phone. Actress Tavi Gevinson wrote about using an assistant to manage her Instagram. It has been hard to keep track of the number of times Stephen Fry has quit and rejoined Twitter over the years. These dramatic exits can seem amusing, especially when they’re followed by sheepish returns, but mostly they underscore how addictive and overwhelming social media can be. My silent retreat took place in a large house in rural Devon. I arrived on Friday, one of a group of about 50. We were allowed to speak during registration and, because I had gone there determined not to use reductive labels, I could already sense myself reaching for them. A young man told me he had done several silent retreats before. Ah, I thought, so you’re the type of person who does these often. Then I caught myself. What type would that be?

During the first meditation session, our instructors explained that we would sit and try to embody, rather than think about, the question “What is this?” This distinction struck me as confusing to the point of meaninglessness. But they explained that one way of attempting “not to think” about the question was to resist the urge to answer it. They encouraged us to focus instead on how we felt, on the physical sensations in our bodies. If you have never tried this, I will say that it is extremely difficult. We sat cross-legged for 30 minutes. I stared at a wall. Then we walked in a circle for 10 minutes. Then we sat down again, and so on, for about two hours. Then it was bedtime. I enjoyed the communality of me and the other girls silently working through our evening routines together. I realised that I had never decided to bring my phone everywhere, like an appendage to my body

The next two days were structured around meditation and chores. At 6.30am we were woken by a bell. We did two hours of meditation, after which we had breakfast. Then a break, followed by another two hours of meditation and lunch. My chore was washing up after we ate. Then more meditation, dinner, another break, meditation, bed. If sitting in an uncomfortable position and staring at a wall while trying not to think sounds impossibly boring, I would say it is not so different from the way my days would unfold when I worked in offices, traipsing from my desk to the tea station and back. More earnestly, I would say I could not have imagined how much I would enjoy the retreat, or how much I’d get out of it. Over the weekend, one of the instructors spoke about trying to be more conscious of the labels we put on our experiences and interactions. It struck me that a similar fatigue with the overload of digital communication is probably what draws a lot of people to try a silent retreat. We were all the type of person who is fed up with “types of people”.

On my first morning after breakfast, I went outside. The countryside seemed fantastically vivid. The blackbirds looked as beautiful as anything I had seen before. I watched one, like a dash of ink, flickering against the mottled grey sky, then two sailing as a pair, in tune with each other. I watched a cloud of them, pulsing. It reminded me of a jellyfish. Back inside, from my seat in the meditation room, I could see a tree that the birds would visit. When I was frustrated with the way my thoughts rattled around my head, reviewing unsaid rebuttals to months-old arguments, I watched the birds and imagined the paths they were taking in the world. One of my issues with the task “embody but try not to think” is that the semantic distinction between thinking and feeling is hard to grasp. If you notice that you feel happy or sad, is that a thought? Or a feeling? I found animals a useful framework to try to understand the distinction, as they negotiate the world using senses. A bird might fly north because of an environmental cue, but it does not say to itself in words, “I want to fly north.” I came to understand the task not as emptying your head of thoughts, but rather resisting the tendency to narrate things to yourself in words. I noticed that this interior monologuing would lead me along familiar, superficial trains of thought, to recent memories associated with certain feelings, say, and soon enough back to mundane anxieties.

At night, I would sit outside and look at the stars. The clouds, invisible in the darkness, shifted to expose one patch of stars, then another, making it look like the sky itself was swelling and shrinking. Memories and ideas still came to me, but deeper, more interesting ones than before. It was as if I had cleared the way for them. I remembered that I used to look at the stars when I was a teenager. I used to read about how they’re born, how they sustain themselves, why we see only some of them, how they die. On Monday morning at breakfast, we were allowed to speak again. Some participants had found the weekend hard, they said. One person had cried repeatedly. Others said that eating in silence had made them feel as though everyone was being cold towards them. As they talked, I remembered old corporate jobs where I was always the office loser. People could sense the aura of failure emanating from me, so I would eat lunch by myself, in silence. I got used to it. I didn’t feel I was learning anything valuable at the time, but life can surprise you. Sticking out is not so bad, I realised. This is the message of most children’s books, but one it’s easy to lose sight of as an adult. Other people’s perceptions of you, real or imagined, don’t have to influence how you see yourself. Social media is designed to erase this perspective. Much of the anxiety it fosters comes from forcing you to see yourself, constantly, as relative to others.

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

like im personally not fond of organized religion as a concept but being an asshole to people who are a part of it is icky

like yes some of these people definitely do come from a Christian background and definitely don’t understand the complexities of other stuff I’m not denying that. Ppl need to talk to others with lived experience

But like. People are allowed to be critical of things. It’s research and talking to people about it. Like there are far too many “progressives” who will flip out over say, a conservative Christian republican saying something mild about traditional family values because of their religion but then turn around and be like “this is okay actually because of culture and religion” upon being presented with something horrific from a Shariah country. Like if you’ve read the hadiths you’d know that they endorse killing Non/ex muslims and straight up said women have half the mind of a man and encourage killing and lashing homosexuals. Like organized religion like that is the reason queer people are “illegal in 72 countries” as Americans far too often joke about. My partner used to live in Saudi and was told by teachers not to write about certain things in essays because it was dangerous. One of my mutuals who lives there is trying to escape but is in danger of being forced into an arranged marriage and also can literally legally be killed for apostasy and lives in fear of that. Also a huge amount of women there have potentially deadly vitamin D deficiency despite being in an extremely sunny place… hmm i wonder why. Also just look at what’s happening in iran. I’m not gonna go into all the shit to unpack w that stuff, but there’s a lot. but then you get progressive people from other countries. And a lot of them have either been convinced that stuff like that is okay because “ueuuee its a different religion and culture” or recognize the issues but won’t speak up about it because they’re scared it makes them islamophobic. (criticizing a set of beliefs [especially ones used to design governments] is 100% fine, being an asshole to harmless individuals is not). And that seems really frustrating for activists who live in shariah countries. Making it sound like people aren’t allowed to criticize things isn’t helpful to the people who actually live in oppressive environments due to organized religion.

spiritual beliefs n stuff are chill but once you get into organized religion with rules it can become dangerous. But like if someone is being a dickhead to someone else on a bus about having a religious garment I’d help them get out of that situation. Like. it’s possible to dislike organized religion and be an activist against the ways religion can harm people without being an ass about it to individuals hehfhs. Telling people that they shouldn’t think critical thoughts isn’t helpful though and it helps perpetuate oppression

When your takeaway is that “Islam is violent and bad” and not “this region was victimized severely by western imperialists who like to sew dissonance, firebomb cities, and elect dictators in order to keep these countries in a state of disarray and war at all times to justify western troops stationing there to protect and seize western assets (oil and other resources) and use the desperate for cheap labor”

You cannot compare oppression under Islam in the Middle East to oppression under Christianity in the west because it was the Christian nations that did that to the Middle East. And they do the same thing in Latin America, east Asia, and Africa because if imperialists and capitalists can ensure that non-westernized countries at least LOOK less developed to westerners, they can get away with so much out of a self-aggrandizing perceived superiority complex that keeps the people from perceiving the constant US military presence in these countries as the act of imperialistic ethnocide that it is.

This isn’t as black and white as you think it is.

[northlight14]

Ok so while it’s not my least favourite episode (cough cough happy campers cough cough) I genuinely really hate the episode Western Energy of Helluva Boss. It has a lot of potential definitely and a few good moments but for me that was kinda where season 2 noticeably fell off for me and only recently has it started to come back and I’ve started to enjoy Helluva Boss again, though admittedly not as much as season 1. So in the sincere hope this post isn’t going to result in me getting sent death threats, I wanna share how I personally would improve the episode

Mine and other people’s biggest issues with that episode from what I remember is that the pacing is just honestly horrific because they tried to fit in too much into one episode. And then also just that the B plot was boring, ridiculous and made Luna into a literal dog. I know that Luna’s voice actor was dealing with some stuff at the time which is why she wasn’t in a position to do any voice acting which is fair enough but there was such a better and easier way to get around that which I’ll get to in a minute

First things first, I’d have the episode split into two separate episodes, the first episode being released focusing on Blitzo and then the second focusing on Moxxie and Millie rescuing Stolas. The first episode starts where the I.M.P gang are gonna go and do an assassin mission (I say this because at this point in the series, the Imps haven’t been on a killing mission since Ozzies and even then it was just a throwaway thing at the beginning. The last time we saw them actually do their jobs was Cherubs or arguably Truth Seekers but I don’t really count they since they weren’t hired to kill D.O.R.K.S). We maybe then get a throwaway line about how Luna can’t help because she’s doing something else, doesn’t want to, or my personal favourite, she’s with Octavia for the day because she got told that Octavia’s parents are out talking about their divorce and she’s being her emotional support for the day. That way, even though we aren’t seeing it, we get some subtle development of their sister relationship behind the scenes.

Anyway, just as they’re about to go, the Imps get a call from Stolas about how he’s being kidnapped and Blitzo is just like “ok I’ll go deal with the killing, you go deal with him”. The rest of the episode follows Blitzo on the assassination mission and all that, potentially getting some subtle hints about things not going great with Moxxie and Millie but Blitzo is obviously too wrapped up in his own shit to notice and also we maybe play on those insecurities about him being alone, or scared of losing people. Maybe some aspect of the mission makes him run into an addict and that makes him think about his sister, hence why he’s so eager to find her in Happy Campers.

Anyway, Blitzo gets the mission done and everything is good except he and then the audience sees Stolas being rushed to the hospital, and we get the line “he can get hurt?” And boom end of episode. No one knows what happened or if he’s ok

Cut to the next episode which follows Moxxie and Millie saving Stolas and we’re finally allowed to know what happened. A few details I’d change though would be keep Strikers intimidating presence rather than just making constant jokes and comments about how cool and hot he is or whatever. Some of that is ok but in this episode when Striker is literally kidnapping one of the main cast, and he’s the only one who has the ability to actually kill that character, it shouldn’t feel like the show itself is in love with him.

Second, use this opportunity to focus on how well the M&M’s work together and their individual strengths. It’s such a minor detail but it annoys me, why the fuck was Millie the one distracting a dude in one scene while Moxxie was going on a killing spree in the background when it’s been shown multiple times that their strengths are when that’s reversed. On top of that, there can also be some hints about what their weaknesses are while working together etc. idk I just want the M&M’s fleshed out more in terms of how their differences work as a couple as well as when they’re apart

This second episode would go back and forth between the M&M’s and Stolas and Striker but for the most part everything else would be the same. The M&M’s obviously save Stolas and he gets sent to the hospital. That’s when we get to see the text messages between Stolas and Blitzo, then end of episode

Hope this made sense and obviously this is just my opinion. Remember, just because you like something doesn’t mean you can’t critique it or say how it could be better. And you’re allowed to disagree with me, this is just how I would’ve went about it

[syrensaft]

Buying themselves flowers, since no one else seemed to do so. Always the same. White roses. An illusion of purity, but far from it. A scene outside the local supermarket. The motorcycle-bound twenty-something talking loudly on speaker being side-eyed by the overworked cashier, now on their lunch break which really is a french breakfast; consisting of nothing but three cigarettes and some watery coffee. A constant beeping fills the background, tires screeching. 

A casual tuesday. 

The ashy blonde finds their way out as well, joining the habitual scene as of second nature. Cookies stacked high under one arm, flowers in the other. Prickly skin and toothy grin. Wired earphones dangling in the wind, slowly but surely falling out of their left ear. It’s not like something was playing to begin with. Just part of the costume. Beaten down, taped together, connected to the inside of their front jean pocket. Phone’s dead anyway, laying on the nightstand back home. There’s a time and place for everything. 

They leave the scene as quickly as they entered it. They gain a few looks, it’s part of it, before they cross one street, then another, then another. 

Red light. Green light. Yet another. 

No one buys flowers. 

Romanticising the mundane seemingly a discarded thought left in the sink back in their shitty apartments next to the stale bread and forgotten ramen cup. 

Every street resembled the other. A maze of dirty facades and overfilled trash cans. Apparently there’s a strike going on. It’s hard to keep up, they’re on and off every other week. It’s not like anyone recycles to begin with. Especially not on this side of town. Just like the blonde likes it. They can come and go as they please, and no one questions their rather strange intake of white roses or their daily walk around the block. Some would call it a ghost-town but they forego the grandma who smokes her two and a half cigarettes on the balcony every afternoon, the lanky gym dude who blasts his seemingly dubious music around 9pm every night, the fighting couple who has angry makeup sex every other week, and the preppy little blonde who throws petals from their fourth story window on a regular basis. There’s a community between the cracks, one that thrives off silence and mutual ignorance of each other’s presence. They just are. Invisible to the scene outside, disregarded by the community. 

You don’t ask when the bags amass more flies than usual. You don’t ask when the rose petals on the street switch to red. You don’t ask when the doors start opening and closing in the wee small hours of the morning. And you certainly don’t tell when that tuft of blonde turns pink. 

If you ever find your way through the maze of side streets, remember, you didn’t see shit.

[echo-rambles]

the beginning of a future!changjin fic I might never finish

-o0o-

The one thing about spending half of your life tucked into the back pockets of the same people day in and day out, is that even when you no longer occupy the same space, you find it a little bit impossible to go about your daily life without them. 

It’s a little bit like having a constant empty spot wherever you go. It’s not gigantic and it doesn’t always catch your attention, but sometimes you have to stop what you’re doing and just sort of recognize that there’s a space next to you where someone used to stand. Sometimes you need to fill the empty space and remember what it’s like to have someone just sort of exist with you. 

Which is why Changbin is sitting in his studio, tapping away at his computer with Jisung on call in his periphery. Neither one of them has said a word in the last twenty minutes, the call filled mostly with quiet hums or noises of acknowledgement. At one point, he heard Minho in the background, talking about dinner and even cheekily asking Changbin if he’d like any. 

Changbin had whined, a lot, because he can’t remember the last time he had a meal cooked by Minho. It’s special in a way he’ll never be able to explain to anyone who hasn’t experienced it. If you haven’t been kicked out of the kitchen by Minho, or sat cramped between two of your closest friends and bickered over who has more on their plate, or helped him do the dishes after, you simply won’t understand. 

Now they’re back to silence. If he listens, he can hear the sound of Jisung’s own typing. It’s relaxing and familiar, like white noise. It helps him work.

There’s a track laid out in front of him, nowhere close to finished, but he’s been making steady progress in the last few hours with the presence of Jisung. It reminds him a little bit of when they were younger, the three of them sitting around a small studio working on their own sections of a project. 

“Hey, did you see the group chat?” Jisung asks suddenly, gently breaking the silence. 

“Mm? About Felix being in France or something?”

“Ah, no. About Hyunjin. Flying into Gimpo.”

“When?” Changbin doesn’t mean to be so loud, but it’s sort of his default. Especially when he’s been caught off guard. 

A pause. “When was the message sent or when is he getting in?”

“Both- either.” He snatches his phone up and fumbles to unlock it. Thankfully he’s alone and no one witnesses how the simple act of jamming in his passcode eludes him on the first try. 

He has to scroll up, but not too far. Past some well wishes and Jeongin sharing a selfie of himself in some European cafe, there, Hyunjin’s message. It’s simple and to the point, and it makes something in Changbin’s chest buzz. 

He was meant to land- Changbin checks the time. An hour ago. 

Hyunjin is here, in Seoul. On Korean soil for the first time in- too long. A few months. 

It feels like there's helium filling his lungs and Changbin has the sudden urge to drop everything and leave. Ask Hyunjin which hotel he's staying at so he can see him, right now.

“How did I not see this?” Changbin mutters, mostly to himself.

“When was the last time you were on your phone?” Jisung counters from the laptop speakers.

“Ok. Fair. But I’ve been busy.” 

“Yeah well, you saw it now."

"An hour too late!"

"Technically he sent it yesterday."

"You're lucky you're in Osaka right now and not in front of me."

"Sorry."

-

Changbin spends twenty minutes after hanging up with Jisung chewing at his thumbnail and trying to decide if he should text Hyunjin. What even would he text him?

I'm sorry we haven't spoken in months and have barely even seen each other in literal actual years, but do you want to get lunch?

God, no. Absolutely not. But if he's too casual about it, will Hyunjin worry that Changbin doesn't actually care about all the time they haven't been speaking?

Thankfully, Hyunjin takes the decision out of his hands. Multiple text messages ping through as he's staring at his phonescreen, and seeing Hyunjin's name immediately makes him feel a thousand times lighter.

>one a scale of 1-10 how busy are you rn? >please say 1 >or zero! >anything below a 5 is acceptable

Currently Changbin is sitting at a solid 8.9. But it's Hyunjin asking.

<I'm never too busy for you~

[electricbluebutterflies]

Kabby + laughing during sex

Haven't done 4x01/4x02 grayspace in AGES and this is fun. Vaguely PG13-ish and also on ao3.

They waited twenty-odd years for this.

Abby is not disappointed by any means, let her make that opinion very clear. Surprised, slightly, but not-

Of course the sex is good. Given their past dynamics, she’s known it would be since the first time she ever thought about it. The comfort level, on the other hand, is much better than her expectations.

Blame it on the fact that in this world they’re in now, no one else gets her on that level. Marcus is the last person left who got an up-close view of every major thing she’s ever done whether it made logical sense or not, a constant recurring presence in her life even before respective career paths made them each other’s problem on a more structured and formal level, and on some level that’s always been reassuring. No matter what else happened, she knew he’d always be there in the background questioning her judgement and saying things she’s sure sounded a little more tactful in his mind and-

They changed, a few months ago. Everything changed and somehow nothing changed.

She’s known this would happen, in some form, for most of her life. She can’t say for certain that he was the first person she noticed that way, back when she was very young and thoughts about how two people could enjoy each other were new to her, but the timing was close and that became another constant in her life, even once he became difficult, even when she was married and… the occasional daydream about someone else does not count as infidelity, let her justify that, the fact that she wouldn’t have done anything under those circumstances does not-

Everything changed. Again and again. Somehow, she thinks, somehow it was always meant to lead to this.

There’s something decidedly comforting about having a body next to her that she has known in other contexts. Her daydreams may not have become reality until an hour ago, but she’d had more than enough valid reasons to see different parts of his skin over the years and especially these past few months, different injuries to tend and an understanding that she would be respectful and-

So was he, she reminds herself. So was he, those weeks when movement was uncomfortable for her. No delusions about protecting her modesty, but nothing beyond what could be explained by circumstances either, nothing inappropriate or-

Things change. People change. Will that ever feel normal, or will she always be distracted by that past?

She shifts position to look at him now, to run her fingers over his skin and map what she knows. She’s tended every new scar except for one, and it was just as well she wasn’t in proximity when that seemed like a good idea, and-

“What are you thinking right now?”

So many things, she would say if she wanted to talk. Something about cosmic inevitability, how long she’s waited and how certain she was of the ending but never the details, something-

Instead of any of that, instead of anything too intense for their current condition, Abby laughs. The body does what will, and-

“I didn’t think we’d happen like this.”

Marcus gives her one of those looks, in a past life a warning sign that he was about to say something intended to set her off and make her the bad person but in this one… she’s not as sure of him as she used to be, and the unpredictability has had positive results but at the same time-

“That was… decidedly less aggressive than-“

“I’m too tired for aggressive right now. Maybe later, but-“

“That wasn’t a complaint.”

She’s known, on some subconscious instinctive level, that the daydreams have been some kind of mutual for… as long as she’s had them if not longer, probably. The absolute inevitability of it all, so comforting and overwhelming at once, all of their eras and evolutions and this is the one where they finally-

“You sure about that?”

He doesn’t respond immediately, and there’s something warm about it, the averted eye contact and the mutual shock and they have both had a long few weeks and maybe-

“Aggressive will be fun. So was whatever that was.”

No wonder his various entanglements have never lasted long, she’s tempted to say. No sense of what’s appropriate in aftermath, absolutely no-

Maybe it’s different because it’s her, because she actually means something, because she suspects she’s the only person who ever has. She would never go as far as to assume unrequited love – there’s a nice ten or fifteen year stretch in there where she knew damn well he did not have that emotional depth, and its recent redevelopment is still weird – but something adjacent to it maybe, some kind of guiding light, some kind of-

“Fun,” she repeats, and such a small word shouldn’t taste bitter. “Is that all we are?”

“Too early to call.”

“Wrong answer.” She shifts position so he can see more of her, how good she looks in this state and… she hasn’t had to think about how she might be seen in nearly two years, and before that her marriage was always so easy like this new dynamic will never be, if they are something it won’t calm either of them any further and-

But they have to be something, she thinks. She’s never wanted casual from anyone. To be minimized like that would be-

“For once can you just… not immediately compartmentalize?”

“Who are you and what did you do with my lifelong nemesis,” she laughs, leaning in to take a kiss. “Those words just sound wrong in your voice.”

“I’m trying. Mostly for you.”

She never asked for that. They’ve had that fight, repeatedly, in the past few months the only reason they’ve gone at each other, and… somewhere along the line she accepted that while she’d more or less ended up with slightly more blame for his attempts at becoming an actually decent person than any of the abundance of other contributing factors to that midlife crisis, she wasn’t the goal of it. How their dynamic has developed in that time has been real and without ulterior motives, and that’s so damn strange coming from him but still-

As much as it still feels just a little wrong to admit it, she trusts him. Even when they were at their worst, she still did, but more so now, more so-

“I’m not your morality pet,” she murmurs. “Don’t forget that.”

“You’re not,” he replies, getting an arm around her back and pulling her a little closer. “You’re much more…”

They don’t talk for a while. They’re better that way.