#look I was never taught how to process emotions so now practically anything can set me off

[malachitezmeyka]

You know, for someone who was always praised on being the calm and quiet one as a child, I sure do cry a lot now

[open--till--midnight]

What's One More?

geraskier x gn!reader

summary | both you and your partner, Geralt, are in love with the same bard

wc | 1k

Geralt knew you were trouble. Well, you and Dandelion. Alone, you were both fine. He enjoyed your company, but together? It was sometimes far too much for the witcher. You and the bard got along like wildfire, in the most chaotic and destructive ways.

As much as he wouldn’t like to admit it, he loved seeing the two of you together. He felt like he should be jealous. You were his partner, and there you were practically flirting with another man. But he wasn’t, it was the opposite, actually. His heart swelled when he watched the two of you.

What he was feeling, was guilt. Guilt that he was looking at Dandelion in a way that he should only be viewing you. All the feelings for you were still there, stronger than ever, but he grew to realize that there was more than enough room for both of you in his heart.

Geralt wrestled with his feelings, he thought it would be easier. When you started courting him you had opened him up and taught him how to navigate his emotions. You were always there to help him, enthusiastically too, but he couldn’t come to you with this. He didn’t want to hurt you. He didn’t want this to end. Even worse, he didn’t want this to end badly and to lose you as a friend.

It was well past midnight when Geralt got back to the inn. His hunt, though long, went well. He entered your room as quietly as he could, careful not to wake you. It didn’t matter, though, as within seconds he heard you sniffle. He quickly changed and crawled into bed beside you.

���Hey, love. What’s wrong?”

You sniffled once more, wiping the remnants of the tears from your eyes before turning over.

“Nothing.”

He didn’t even have to say anything, his hard stare was enough to get more out of you.

“I just don’t want to talk about it, Geralt.”

“Can’t talk about it or cant’ talk about it with me?”

“Geralt, don’t do that.”

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Anything? You won’t get mad?”

You pulled yourself into a sitting position, Geralt did the same while cupping your hands in his. The tears you had previously gotten rid of returned, against your will. Now, he held your cheek, letting you cry into his hand.

“I don’t think that you could ever make me mad, y/n.” He smiled, “Maybe sad, but there is nothing we can’t get through. Even if it hurts, we’ll make it. What’s going on, love?”

It took you a minute to calm down enough to speak, but you still couldn’t look into his eyes.

“I love you, Geralt. I need you to know that, forever and always, I will love you.” He returned the sentiment, and it gave you the boost you needed to finish. “The happiness that you make me feel is unmatched, but there is another piece that I need, too. And I don’t feel whole when that piece isn’t around.”

“Y/n, what are you trying to say.”

“I love Dandelion, too. I don’t know why, it’s not that I don’t think you enough because you are. It’s just-”

Before he could restrain himself and let you finish, he blurted out, “I do too. Love him, I mean. I understand.”

For a moment, the two of you just stared. Partially to process what had just been confessed, but also out of sheer adoration. Even with this, you two were on the same page.

Problems started to arise the next morning. You and Geralt met Dandelion down in the tavern before setting out. Both of you were noticeably, and equally flustered. Dandelion really didn’t know what to make of it, so he left to attach his bag to Roach.

He did this every time you left someplace. Geralt never let him put his bag on Roach, mostly to be petty at this point. But today, he let him. It did not go unnoticed by either you or Dandelion, but neither of you said anything.

The walk to the next town was quiet, far too quiet. Aside from the gentle strumming of Dandelion’s lute, no other noises were heard. Glances were shared between you and Geralt, but neither of you spoke.

That night, the bard had fallen asleep early, still clutching his lute. Your lover glanced adoringly at his sleeping form before turning back to you, who was equally enamored.

“Are we going to tell him?” His gruff voice was almost too low to understand, but you were merely inches away so you heard him fine.

“Do you want to?”

“I think we should. Something tells me that even if he’s not interested we’ll be fine.”

“He’s like that.” You laugh into his chest before turning your attention back to the sleeping bard.

That night you spent another hour talking before dozing off. Sleep was pleasant, which was uncommon. But now that you’d discussed the matter that was haunting you, you felt a little more at peace.

As always, Geralt woke up first. Then you, and then Dandelion. It was like clockwork. Today was no different, you opened your eyes to your witcher who was sitting on a log tightening his armor.

Dandelion woke moments later, hair sticking every which way and sleep still clinging onto him. After rubbing his eye he grinned at the two of you.

“You guys aren’t as quiet as you think you are. And Geralt, a witcher, really? I’m thoroughly disappointed in you. Stealthy my ass.” You started to speak but he held up a finger, “You, on the other hand, need to learn how to whisper, my dear.” He waved his hand as permission for either of you to speak, instead, you just looked at each other, dumbfounded.

“You mean you heard…that?” Geralt was so soft-spoken it was almost frightening.

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

“You aren’t mad?”

“The two of you are so fucking thick. I’ve been flirting with both of you for weeks now. Geniuses.”

So this is how it’s going to be? Perfect.

[junisfics]

Too Much or Not Enough* — Armin Arlert

Request:

can u write armin with a praise kink???

Summary: Reader gives Armin head for the first time after a particularly long day

Content Warnings: Smut/ Nsfw 18+ (M Receiving Oral, Praise Kink)

Word Count: 2.9k

Notes: (1) i didn't know whether you wanting giving or recieving praise so i just went with this (2) i just binge wrote this mf for that anon that wouldn't leave me alone 😩😩 ugh the things i do for yall

It felt like Armin was always busy; pretty eyes staring down at aged parchments like he’s waiting for their text to change beneath his watch, ancient books flipped open to random pages are littered across the table, his fingers and sides of his palms covered in graphite and ink from his notetaking.

He’s been like this for the past few days, hunched over that creaky wooden desk that’s hidden away in a room he only leaves for meals. He’d slept in that stiff old chair too, face smushed against the wood with his arms curling around his head.

Levi had told him to navigate a route to the nearest town... which sounds easy enough until he realized that there was countless miles of forest in the way.

He was so handsome like this. He’s in his element, brain going a mile a minute, tongue between his teeth and hair falling into his eyes as he scribbles at the wrinkled pages. You could watch him like this forever... sadly, only at his suffering.

"Why don't you take a break, come on a walk with me or something?" You suggest, shifting around in the seat you had pulled up catty corner to him, elbows resting on the desk.

He raises is eyebrows slightly in acknowledgement before looking up to you, "I can't, this is really important. I'm sorry, y/n."

It's not that he doesn't want to, he wants to spend quality time with you more then anything in the world... he just can't. He knows if he doesn't finish this sometime soon that Levi will be on his ass and disappointed... then force Hange to do it and then Armin will feel bad. He looks up to Hange, he doesn't want to throw them under the gutter.

"It could help clear your mind... give you a new look at it..." Your arms fall flat, crossed against the table and you rest your chin on your forearms... pouting.

"Don't look at me like that, I already feel bad enough as it is." He runs his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face before returning to the pages in front of him. His hair falls back into his eyes.

"C'mon," You push yourself away from the desk and stand, making your way behind him, "Just talk with me for a minute about anything but the maps."

You gently place a hand atop his head and ruffle his pretty blonde hair before flattening it again. You continue this process: ruffling, petting, ruffling, petting.

He lets out a little huff, "I — y/n... you're distracting me."

Your nimble fingers take turns running through the strands, swooping his hair one way then the other... combing it flat against his head so his forehead is revealed then pushing it back over his eyes the way he likes it.

"Good, don't fight it." You smile, separating three strands carefully and intertwining them into a braid.

He attempts to continue work, picking up the graphite again and flipping the open pages around with his fingers. He circles or underlines something here and there, taking a moment to stare at it like it has some deeper meaning then flipping to the next page and doing the same thing. Maybe he'll rip out a page and set it in a pile or compare it to the map in front of him then analyze it like he's being graded... which he kind of is.

His hair was always oddly soft, no matter how much dirt or sweat got into it or how long he had to go without washing it, it was always soft. It always framed his face so beautifully.

You press a gentle kiss to the crown of his head, then tilt your head to kiss his temple. He shivers at the feeling, his flushed skin hot beneath your lips.

“y/n, please. I can’t focus with you here.” His voice is quiet, as if he’s scared his words will offend you. 

But then a silly little idea pops into your head and you thank god he cannot see your face because if he did he would see that stupid mischevious smile plastered across it.

“I’m sorry.” You pout, sliding a hand over his shoulder before removing yourself from him entirely to slink around the desk.

Your eyes flicker up to him to check where his own eyes are... and when you realize he’s completely back to focusing on the papers in from of him you crawl underneath the desk, kneeling in front of him and resting your backside on your ankles. Carefully, you place both hands on either knee before you.

Armin jumps, just now realizing that your knelt before him, “y/n — what are you doing.” His hands are balled into fists and forearms glued to the armrests beside him. He’d push himself away from you if he could, but out of fear and... arousal maybe? he’s stuck in his seat.

“Helping you relax.” You smile, rapping your fingers against his pants.

“I’ve — I don’t — we can’t.” Even through his babbling you can make out what he’s saying.

“Look at me,” You slide your hands slowly up his thighs, the muscle twitching beneath you, “I don’t have to do this if you don’t me to.”

A billion emotions flash through his eyes the second that sentence leaves your lips. His palms begin to sweat and stomach clenches at the feeling of him growing hard in his pants.

“No! I — I’ve just... never... done anything before. Not — not anything at all! I’ve kissed someone before! Shit — of course I have, I’ve kissed you. I’ve never done — just not anything... sexual... before.”

You realize then the amount of trust he’s put into you in that moment. All his walls have been broken down, his heart hammering against his ribcage. This is new territory for him. New territory that you, out of all people, are the one to explore. He could pass out.

“That’s okay. Armin, there’s nothing wrong with that, I promise.” You bring your hands back down over his thigh in an attempt to soothe his nerves, but what you don’t realize is that your actions are doing anything but that.

It’s hard for him to make eye contact, his own eyes shifting from your hands to his crotch to your face and then repeating a few times.

“Okay — just you — you don’t have to.” He stutters, clenching and unclenching his fists to take his mind of the growing hard on in his pants.

“I want to.” You scoot a little closer which sends another jolt of electricity to his heart, “Is this okay?”

‘Why would you want to do this?’ He thinks, ‘You gain nothing out of this’

“Y — yeah.” He answers, finally grasping onto the armrests.

Your eyes drop to your hands as they return to the apex of his thighs, pausing for a moment before reaching for the button of his pants. The metal is cold beneath your fingertips as you unclasp it, the same with the zipper.

Armin has officially stopped breathing.

You slowly pull, the zipper making a familiar rattling noise as it’s pulled to the bottom of its seam. With your right hand you take a fistful of his shirt and pull upwards to untuck it. Armin gasps.

“Can you take this between your teeth for me, please?” You ask, voice sweet and sanguine.

He can do nothing but obey, opening his mouth and biting down on the fabric as you bring the fistfull to his face. His pretty blue eyes peer over to watch you as you tuck your fingers under his waist band.

“Thank you, sweet boy... now lift your hips?” You smile.

He does as he’s told, bring his hips upwards so you can pull his pants down to his thighs. He can’t even think. He’s sitting before you in only his boxers and you about to put your mouth on his —

“Hey, you still there? You got that faraway look in your eyes...” You sit back on your ankles, removing your hands from him completely.

“Y — yeah shit, sorry — It’s just a little crazy to me. The girl I’m in love with is about to give me — give...” He speaks through his shirt.

“Suck your cock.”

His dick jumps at the lewdness of your words.

‘Yeah... that’

“Yeah.”

“Is it okay if I keep going?” You sit back up, hands resting on the bunched fabric over his knees.

He swallows hard before nodding, visibly nervous.

Your fingers reach for the waistband of the final layer, grazing over the taught skin of his stomach before delving beneath the fabric.

His breath gets caught in his throat and goosebumps scatter over his flesh, knuckles turning white around the armrest.

You pull, slowly, over his hips and down his legs until his cock springs up and slaps against his chest. He internally cringes at the sound. Armin was big... and thats not being generous. You’d say he has about 7 - 8 thick inches in his favor... your mouth practically watering at the sight.

You look at him, eyes wide and innocent in contrast to the actions you’re about to do. If he wasn’t so nervous he’d smile and tell you that you look so pretty on your knees for him.

Gently, you nod your head in questioning. He nods back.

With your right hand you take his cock at the base, weight heavy in your palm. You can feel him completely shudder underneath your touch, rising ever so slightly in his seat. Slowly, you run your hand up and down his length and twisting your wrist ever so slightly as you do so. 

Your hand is so much smaller and so much softer than his. His mouth falls agape, more blood just rushing to his dick at the sight. He’s going to have this image burned into his brain forever. He bets if he focuses hard enough he could cum right now.

You can feel him pulsing underneath your fingers as you jerk him gently, his breathing already growing audible.

You’re hand is just so much different than his, but it’s the fact that it’s you attached to the hand... your hand... that has him trembling beneath you already.

“You okay?” You ask, voice so sweet and comforting as it pulls him out of his thoughts.

He nods frantically, shirt still pulled between his teeth as he watches you scoot even closer to him. You’re face is inches away from his dick.

You’re eyes look up to him when you lick the first stripe up from the base of his cock all the way to the head, swirling your tongue around him.

“Shit.” His eyes close and his head falls back. He didn’t know what he was expecting but this was not it... but my god was he not disappointed.

You give his length another tender lick, following along a vein on the underside of his cock, before you close your lips around the tip. His hips buck involuntarily into your mouth, sending another good inch or so into you.

“Oh god, y/n.” His voice, rather then lowering an octave, jumps one and strains in his throat.

You never take your eyes off him, watching his every movement to make sure he’s still feeling alright and that you’re not pushing your limit. His jaw is still clenched around his shirt, the hem of it now soaked with his spit, and his throat trembles as he swallows around it.

His cock is still in your hands as you take more of him in your mouth, the head of his cock finally hitting the back of your throat.

Your mouth is so warm and so wet that he can’t help but think that maybe this is what it would feel like to fuck you... actually truly fuck you. 

You close your lips tightly around him before sliding back up with a ‘pop’, a string of saliva connecting from your bottom lip to the tip of his cock.

“You still alright?” You jerk him languidly in your hand, saliva coating his dick and your palm to provide enough slick to slide freely over him.

“Y — yeah... fuckk yeah.” He groans, head coming back up to watch you as you jerk him off.

He twitches in your hand when he sees that look on your face. Your tongue lolling out of your mouth, lips covered in spit and precum, tiny hand beating his dick for him. You’re eyes wide and looking up at him like he’s the most beautiful thing in the world. He completely melts before you.

“What?” You giggle, teasing him slightly. His eyes are so full of lust and admiration.

“God, you just — shit — you look so pretty.” He whines, hips jerking up into your hand so your fists meets his pelvis. 

“I think you look so pretty, so beautiful.” You smile.

Your mouth is back on him, taking him in over your tongue slowly and fitting him down your throat until your nose hits his stomach. Your eyes close as you gag slightly around him, throat constricting before you pull off of him, his dick now completely coated in spit. 

Then he’s back on your tongue and you’re jerking around the base of him that you can’t comfortably fit in your mouth. The sight, the sound, the feeling is all just too much for him too quickly and he feels that heat pooling in his lower stomach and he knows this is going to be over soon.

“I — I’m gonna cum, y/n, don’t stop please.” He groans, his right hand releasing the arm rest to hover behind your head, not touching you, but shaking just behind you.

Then you pull off of him, jerking his cock a little faster in your hand to tip him over. You feel his hand meet the back of your head and then its sliding around to cup your cheek as you smile at him.

“Yeah? Cum for me, be so good and cum for me.”

You gather spit in your mouth then lean over his dick just enough so when you spit it dribbles off your bottom lip and onto him. 

And that’s what sends him over the edge and cumming into your fist, hot and thick with broken moans passing his lips.

“Good job, baby, you’re so good for me.”

[myrulia]

Im a lil shy to ask in my og account so i will do it in anon! Can u do prompt 19? ( i hope im not breaking any of your rules!) your writing is delightful! 💖❤️ lots of love for u!

.｡.:*✧Prompt 19: "Are you falling in love? I have a feeling you are."

.｡.:*✧Warnings: Reverse hashira au, mentions of decapitation

╰╴⇢｡.:*✧A/N: I honestly had lots of fun with this so thank you! You deserve love as well!💜

`` The meeting shall now commence. ``

Muzan Kibutsuji, the leader of the Demon Slayer corpse, announced to the 9 hashira before him. They all kneeled in his presence out of pure respect, their heads hanging low but high enough to the point of seeing him.

`` Today we will discuss an important matter regarding our Moon pillar, `` said the male with such gentleness in his tone.

His words did cause them to raise their heads in confusion, knowing that the Moon pillar, or better known as Michikatsu Tsugikuni, was never one to involve himself too much in situations other than the purging of demons that wished to cause harm to humans. All eyes were on the spiky raven haired man for a split second before Kibutsuji spoke once more.

`` [Y/N], you may come out now. ``

You revealed yourself by coming from the shadows of the building you were inside, stepping onto the engawa just a few feet away from where Kibutsuji stood with his child close by. You fidget with your fingers out of pure nervousness, being in front of the 9 most powerful demon slayers you ever heard of in all your 19 years of living. The fact that they were in their presence alone made you want to poof out of existence.

`` This is [Y/N] [L/N], a very strong demon slayer who I believe has great potential. I wish to raise her ranking in sight of her power, so as of today, and for the rest of her time as a demon slayer, she will be a tsugoku taught under Michikatsu. ``

This brought shock to the pillars who now brought their heads up to get a better look at who you were. But the Ice pillar drew his eyes elsewhere, to Michikatsu. 

`` Our quiet Tsugikuni getting a cute tsugoku? It makes me quite jealous. ``

`` Mind your tongue around Kibutsuji, Douma, `` spoke the Shockwave pillar, or better known as Hakuji Soyama. The male always had a deep resentment towards Douma, and you had yet to learn the extent of it all. Michikatsu, who had been silent the entire time, took the chance to ponder his own thoughts and really process it all. A tsugoku? He did not have time to teach a student when he so desperately desired to get stronger to protect the weak.

Kibutsuji raised a finger to his mouth, causing the pillars to suddenly stop speaking. In your eyes, this was the utmost level of respect one can receive, truly shocking you at how much they devote their lives to this man.

`` Now then, how about we allow [Y/N] to introduce herself? ``

Your head snapped up in Kibutsuji's direction, your eyes wide with shock but all he gave you was a small nod, looking at the pillars again only to see that their eyes had locked onto yours. You cleared your throat before speaking, nervousness taking over your emotions.

`` As you have heard before, my name is [Y/N] [L/N]- but you may call me [Y/N]! My breathing style is the breath of moon, similar to Tsugikuni-san. I hope I meet your expectations of a demon slayer. ``

You bowed your head low in respect, hoping that your introduction was a decent one, but when you heard a hearty laugh erupt from the Ice pillar, worry started to set in that you made a fool of yourself.

`` She really is a cute one. Makes me upset that I do not have my own tsugoku. ``

`` That is because the last time you had a tsugoku, `` started Hantengu. `` You got the poor thing lost. ``

Lifting your head, you are met with the pillars now conversing amongst themselves, semi-arguing about the situation with Douma and his former tsugoku who apparently quit after multiple attempts of asking the latter out. You could not help but but let out a small snicker, bringing the attention back to you.

`` I was the one who made her laugh first!`` Said Douma, feeling triumphant at that moment.

`` No, it was just your stupidity, `` said a young girl with long white locks who got up and spoke with attitude in her tone, although her gaze was now directed to you. 

`` I apologize for them, I'm Ume pleasure to meet you. ``

The young girl bowed, but following right after was everyone else who also bowed in your direction. The whole ordeal painted obvious signs of shock onto your face because you always thought it was the pillars who deserved respect, not the other way around.

`` I apologize for my insolence as well, and my idiotic co-worker here, for our terrible first impression. ``

Hakuji held his head the lowest before raising it again, flashing you an attractive smile that would make any woman swoon immediately. You smiled in return at the 8 of them who decided to formally apologize, but the one who you assumed to be Michikatsu was silent and still. 

`` Now that we are all acquainted with [Y/N], the meeting will now come to a close, you are free to do as you so choose. ``

And with that, Kibutsuji went inside the building with his daughter holding his hand until they were no longer in sight, leaving you with the 9 pillars who went back to conversing with themselves, unlike another woman who you failed to truly notice. She had long brown hair, as well as long bangs covering her eyes and pale skin. You stared until suddenly you felt someone's presence behind you, a tall one at that.

Your small shriek of shock grabbed the attention of everyone still in front of you, looking to see Michikatsu appear behind you in a matter of seconds, a serious expression all over his face. 

`` How do you expect to be a good tsugoku if you scare easily? Always be on guard no matter who you are with. ``

The male left just as quickly as he appeared behind you, your nerves being left rattled and all over the place with how much he startled you. A look of concern was given to you by Hakuji, Douma, and Ume, the only three to really interact with you.

`` Dear [Y/N] got so scared, don't worry I'll protect you from Tsugikuni~ ``

`` More like he needs to be taught some manners, `` spoke Ume as she helped you up, flashing you a beautiful smile. You simply nodded, processing the turn of events. Was that same rude behavior something you'd have to endure during your time as a tsugoku?

                     ◆◇◆◇✧◇◆◇◆

Nightfall came quicker than expected, but it was much anticipated. Tonight would be the night you get to directly study under Michikatsu, following him under the moonlight as you study his movements and learn everything he teaches you.

You put on your haori, as well as sheathing your katana inside your saya and swiftly leaving your household to meet with your sensei at the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters to discuss plans for the night.

You arrived there early and ahead of time so you can make a good first impression, only to see the spiky raven haired male leaning against a tree with his arms crossed impatiently.

`` You finally arrive. Good to see you have the mindset to be early on any occasion, that is the only decent trait you have so far. ``

You approached the male with your eyebrows furrowed, having enough of his attitude, but a voice within you stopped you before you could say anything that would make the man before you have a reason to dislike you.

`` Thank you sens- ``

`` Gratitude will get you nowhere. ``

Michikatsu suddenly leaped into the tree he was previously leaning against, standing on a sturdy branch and looking down at you below him. 

`` Tonight we shall practice your speed if Kibutsuji-sama has acknowledged you. So, try to keep up with me. ``

`` Wh- ``

Before you could voice out your opinion, Michikatsu already leaped from the branch and onto another tree. Your reflexes instantly kick in, causing you to run after him and jump into the tree where he previously was, only for him to leap to another tree. The process continued of you tailing him hopelessly throughout the night until you both were well into the forest beside the headquarters.

You managed to catch up to your teacher, but just before you could land beside him the male landed in a small clearing beside a pond with koi fish swimming about freely in the clear water. He suddenly stopped to catch his breath seeing as how you both have been playing this game of cat and mouse for quite a while.

You landed beside him, catching your own breath and watching as the fish continued to swim freely, the silence taking over between you. 

`` For a fresh student, you are fast, I'll give you that. ``

That was all he said, and even though so little was said, the semi-compliment made you smile with gratitude. Michikatsu side eyed you, looking down at your smaller form since you were distracted by the pond. This gave him a chance to study your physique. You had a smaller build, but he could easily tell that you were strong, after all, Kibutsuji did say you had great potential. You may have been quiet for the most part, but the male knew that you had much more to say than you let on. He truly was perspective. 

`` Tsugikuni-san, why have we stopped at a pond? ``

Your question caught him off guard, so he tore his gaze away from you and went back to the usually stoic and blunt person he is. 

`` To catch our breath, but our break is over. Stay close in pursuit. ``

The training continued again, going on for hours throughout the night with the same cat and mouse game you started with. Leaping from branch to branch at a fast pace staying hot on the pillar's trail. Although, at the end of the day, he has had much more experience than you have, for you struggled to keep up with him this time around.

Michikatsu suddenly stopped on a random branch of a tall tree, his back facing you but his head being turned so he can face you. 

`` This is where we will stop for the night. You started to stagger and slow down 4 trees before. ``

`` No. I can continu- ``

`` As your teacher I order you to stop. ``

You flinched at his sudden command, yet you kneeled down to catch your breath nonetheless. Michikatsu suddenly appeared beside you, the same way he did so when he first pulled off the seemingly difficult trick.

`` That is all, go home, your first night of training is over. ``

                     ◆◇◆◇✧◇◆◇◆

One night turned into two, two turned into thirteen, and thirteen turned into twenty-four. You had been training your physical strength for twenty-four straight nights in a row, refusing to give yourself a break to become the type of tsugoku Michikatsu can be proud of. Despite all your efforts, he still showed little to no sign of a significant reaction that expressed if he was impressed, proud, or disappointed with your abilities.

Tonight, you planned on changing that.

By Kibutsuji himself, you both were assigned to killing a demon who was sighted near a mountain not too far from the headquarters, and you both happily accepted the mission.

So now, here you are, standing beside your teacher at the foot of the mountain where the location was said to have been.

`` Let us deal with this demon quickly so we can return to training. ``

`` Are all we ever going to do is train? `` You spoke up, freely speaking your mind for the first time since you started studying under Michikatsu. This, however, made him turn around in an instant and loom above you, intimidating you fully.

`` Are you complaining? ``

Gulping a thick string of saliva, you shake your head no, which ultimately pleases your teacher. You could have sworn you saw him smirk out of the corner of your eye, but pushing that to the side, you both trek on your adventure up the mountain.

You followed closely behind until you sensed another, foreign presence near you - except it was not just one, it was multiple. You looked up at Michikatsu only to see him completely still, yet his hand gripped onto the handle of his katana. You shifted closer towards him so that you could watch your surroundings from another angle, but before you knew it a demon was now directly in front of you. 

`` [Y/N]! ``

Michikatsu yelled your name, signaling for you to go straight into battle mode. You did so by swinging your katana instantly, only missing its neck by a hair. 

`` There are 5 of them, you take care of 2 and I will do the rest. ``

`` Yes sensei. ``

You followed his plan, following the other two demons who decided to run away in the opposite direction from where you were chasing them, but by jumping and flipping above their head, landing in front of them, you were able to catch the creature off guard and successfully behead it in a timely manner. 

`` Don't think you won just yet girly- ``

Another demon tried to surprise you from behind, but it was too late for it as well, because you already swung your katana and successfully decapitating it as well, leaving it to wither away on the ground just as the other did. 

`` Both down. ``

With your success, you internally celebrated as you ran throughout the forest in search of your teacher, only to hear the swinging of a blade not too far from you. Following that sound, you see that the three demons he followed after ganged up on him and cornered him. You arrived just in time, seeing as how one of them was just about to attack Michikatsu when he was off guard and distracted by the other 2.

`` Breath of moon, first form: dark moon, evening palace. ``

You swung your katana in the direction of the demon's neck, being only able to sever halfway through before it dodged and managed to land an attack onto your teacher's abdomen, ripping his uniform and leaving bloody claw marks on his chest. The male gritted his teeth in slight pain, but not before he got rid of the other 2 demons in one single blow, leaving you truly astonished at his power level.

Although you could not stay distracted for long in view of the fact that the demon you tried to kill now had its attention on you, healing its neck at a visibly slow pace.

`` You got in the way, so now you'll take his place of death! ``

`` I think otherwise!, `` you shouted in return, using the second form of moon breathing, pearl flower moon-gazing that successfully sliced the demon's body into multiple pieces, including his head. It fell onto the ground and started the process of withering. With that, you ran to Michikatsu who covered the scars on his chest with his hand, sheathing his blade into his saya with the other. You kneeled down, ripping off a piece of your uniform and using that to stop the bleeding instead.

`` As a pillar I should deal with this mysel- ``

`` Stop acting all high and mighty. You are clearly injured so just let me help you. ``

Your stern tone made Michikatsu stop instantly, going silent instead and moving his hand out the way so you could tend to his needs. The fabric you ripped off only did so much, so helping the raven haired male stand up slowly, you drape his arm over your shoulder and escort him to your house, which was surprisingly not that far from where your mission just was.

Entering your home, you immediately set Michikatsu onto your futon, grabbing his hand and placing it onto his chest whilst still keeping that serious gaze in your eyes. The whole ordeal left him in utter shock that he was now in your home and in your care. He was never really one to speak his mind, so whenever he had a strong emotion of some sort it always showed on his face.

`` Keep that on your scars while I prepare everything I need to clean them. You're going to have to remove your uniform top for this. ``

Your words left him in even bigger shock, so much so that he was frozen for a good few seconds until he seemingly began slipping his haori off and unbuttoning the shirt of his uniform. He removed it with ease, now being bare enough for you to clean his wounds. Before Michikatsu, you never would have had the courage to speak up to him the way you did, but now with him being injured since you were too insolent to not kill the demon right away, you felt like you had to take responsibility.

Silently, you moved over to the male who sat bare before you, moving his hand out of your way so you could wipe away any blood that seeped anywhere else onto his body and in between the grooves of his abs. Your hand brushed against his skin ever so slightly, causing him to tense up in response.

`` Sorry if I hurt you in advance, `` you said, your voice cutting through the silence. He merely hummed in response, watching you work as he leaned back to get a better view. Michikatsu himself was appalled at how good you were at treating wounds, allowing you to actually do something he would never let anyone else do. But, over the course of your training, he had taken a liking to you. 

`` Have you done this before? ``

Both of your gazes met at a close proximity before you tore yours away in slight embarrassment, continuing the process of cleaning his scars. 

`` I have, yes. Why do you ask? ``

`` You seem to be rather skilled, that's all. ``

You finally finished cleaning his scars, setting down the wet cloth you used to do so, grabbing the bandages you had prepared and began wrapping them around his upper body, covering the scars effectively thus completing your task. Your skin had made contact so much that you were not able to discern when your face slowly began to heat up each time it did, but Michikatsu on the other hand had a pretty good view of your concentrated yet flustered expression.

You shifted to get up from your sitting position, only to feel a hand grab onto your wrist and pull you back down. You turn your head in disbelief, only to see that your noses were inches away from each other at the chain of events.

`` Thank you, [Y/N]. I mean it. ``

`` Well- you're welcome sensei… ``

Your bashful expression could not be hidden this time, and neither could Michikatsu's. The ends of his ears turned a bright red, thus letting you go at the realization of this because he was all too aware of his own emotions.

Hurriedly, you put your cleaning supplies away, moving so fast that you nearly tripped yourself. You could not help how you felt in that moment. Your emotions were all over the place and the only reason was because of him. Deep down you thought that yes he was attractive but his attitude was a bother. Even then, you still suppressed those feelings.

But not tonight.

`` Be careful, you might hurt yourself. There is no rush. ``

`` I apologize.. I am not used to having guests, my teacher being one no less. ``

He then suddenly patted the space beside him, signaling for you to sit down which you followed obediently, planting your hands in your lap and keeping keeping gaze low so as to not make eye contact. 

`` Will you look at me? You seem to be heating up by the passing second. ``

`` It could just be your inagination..- ``

A finger was brought to your chin, tilting it to the side and upwards to examine your face at a better angle, although the tip of your noses brushed against each other at the close proximity. You had to admit, with the moon light shining through your window and the way the luminosity shone on Michikatsu's features, it made him look ten times more attractive than he already did. 

`` Are you falling in love? I have a feeling you are. ``

You were ultimately taken aback by his sudden boldness even though he has mentioned that expressing how he feels just was not his thing. Your eyes widened ever so slightly while his expression stayed the same. Eyes partially lidded, mouth parted as his gaze glanced from your own irises to your lips. Your lips quivered to say something until you moved forward.

`` What if I say yes? What will you do about it. ``

`` Personally, I believe actions speak louder than words so.. ``

Just like that, you felt Michikatsu's lips press against your own yet pull away just as quickly, staring into your eyes once again until this time you moved forward, pressing your softer ones against his. The eagerness you felt in that moment showed with how you kept contact much longer than he previously did, but there were no complaints from neither of you. 

A large hand moved to the small of your back, hesitantly pulling you in closer contact with his bare chest until yours was leaning into his. Pulling away at the close contact, the redness at the end of his ears spread to his cheeks just barely, and this time you visibly saw an expression other than the one he usually sports.

`` So I take that as a yes? ``

`` It was most definitely a yes Michikatsu. ``

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

[nevertheless-moving]

thanks again to @dykerory and @willowcrowned for this genius au. this is an incomplete collection of very specific set of headcanons/daydreams i had about a tangential version of your au that made me emotional in the middle of the woods. whenever you feel the time is right, i’m very eager to hear your og version on the ‘but obi-wan, tho!’, because i admittedly pushed this one’s resolution really far chronologically because i wanted batman to be involved.

continuation from here

note: my understanding of dcu is as sporadically informed as my understanding of the gffa. 

newly graduated clark kent gets his first journalism job and starts settling more and more into the superman thing. the rest of the justice league has been around but his entrance onto the scene is the one that really inspires the various heroes to actually start coordinating to deal with the weirdness magnet that is dcu Earth. Clark is in his early 20s. Anakin is in his late 30s.

He’s been living on Earth, without the force, for nearly 2/3rds of his life. He has a close knit circle of friends who were kind to him even when they thought he was just a weird and crazy emo cult victim (the gradual increase of public encounters with aliens and superpowers sparks some awkward apologies, Anakin at 38 just waves his friends off, smiling and changing the subject, neither confirming nor denying his high school ramblings of spaceships and magic. it doesn’t really change anything).

He lives an hour’s drive from smallville, and runs a successful auto shop. people travel from pretty far to check out some of his more wild and specialized motorcycle abominations. makes enough money selling them to rich idiots to fund his free auto-class and auto-repair programs for impoverished communities.

It took a while but he eventually came around to the idea of helping people without physical force (ironically, this is happening around the same time Clark is coming to the realization that he can help people with physical force). Generally respected as a pillar of the community. When people start to realize how profoundly weird he is as a person in a number of inexplicable ways, someone will generally pull them aside and quietly whisper that he was in a cult at a child, no one really knows much about it except that it’s what inspired his anti-modern-slavery work, which is a little telling. Not married. Was in a long-term relationship for like 9 years. It didn’t end well but no-one knows the details.

Has several cats. 

He’s- wistful but settled. He’s been through a lot of therapy. He meditates every morning and night, clearing his mind and examining his emotions in the way Obi-Wan taught him. He thinks Obi-Wan would be proud of him. He know his Mom would be.

Once he gets used to the idea, he never really stops loving the concept of learning just because. Duel bachelors degree in in african american history and american literature, masters in engineering, masters in astrophysics a phd in theoretical physics, another phd in medieval folklore. He’s worked a lot of jobs. 

He was already pretty well versed in astronavigation back at the temple. Over the course of his time on earth, he gets more educated in earth astronomy and physics. With is increased knowledge, his theory for ‘how did i get here’ shifts from slight hyperdrive miscalculation, to big hyperdrive miscalculation, to some sort of hyperlane incident. he realizes that none of the stars he knows are familiar in any NASA database. He must be beyond wildspace, which helps him let go of the last bit of hurt he felt that Obi-Wan never found him.

Then he really learns physics- and- light doesn’t exactly work like that right? He thought it was just primitive Earth understanding but... he gets a phd more or less accidentally, trying and failing to disprove that the speed of life is constant constant.

Get’s another even more accidentally, explaining how alternate universes might form if we assume slightly different universal constants. He publishes his thesis anonymously around the same time metas are becoming a household term, and at least one science journalist speculates on it and how alternate universes might explain the increasing prevalence of wildly different superpowers. He doesn’t claim credit for the honorary diploma awarded to the unknown theorist- he doesn’t want to risk drawing any attention to him and by extension Clark, who’s alien differences are far more of the ‘military experiment interesting’ variety then his.

He stops tinkering with Clark’s ship. He finally gets how it works. Now that he realizes how FTL travel has to work in this universe, tinkering with the mechanical generation and harnessing of the massive quantities of energy necessary to do is startlingly familiar. But it doesn’t matter. No matter how far and fast he travels, he’s never going to be able to get back to the life he used to know. 

Perhaps this is what being the chosen one actually means- he’s meant to live a life without the force, so that when he returns to it in death he’ll be able to somehow...educate? the force? maybe?

Ok, he’s not great at the metaphysical spiritual side of things, but he does accept that going back is out of his control, and he’s doing good here, even if it’s not galaxy altering.

Despite all the therapy, he never doubts that his early life was real. He has his saber and deep, deep down he can feel a spark in the kyber. He can’t do anything with it, but it’s there. There’s also pieces of the utter wreck that was his ship in the cellar, next to the sleek unblemished pod that Clark arrived in. Shortly before Clark becomes Superman, he asks for his help in melting down his old ship to make unearthly alloys. 

He’s not surprised when Clark tells him he met a ‘real’ ‘magic’ user- it stands to reason that considering how relatively easy it is to convert energy from one form to another in this universe (Clark can fly), at least one kind would bend to sentient willpower in a similar way as the force does.

It’s still a little nervewracking showing his lightsaber to someone new for the first time in a decade. Zantana scrutinizes, bewildered. 

“There is some sort of power locked within, but it’s unfamiliar to me,” she admits finally. “I could probably brute force it and force the energy to release itself, but it would likely destroy the container.” Anakin politely refuses. 

Later, after the justice league’s formation, Clark mentions to J’onn that he has a friend who might be able to work on his ship. J’onn is extremely doubtful when he’s brought to a bizarre autoshop in the midwest that looks half-like a roadside attraction. Anakin sighs and digs his hands into the guts of the craft, muttering incomprehensibly and yelling at clark to melt down some pieces from the special scrap pile. A few days later he explains the patches he’s done to an impressed J’onn. When he asks how a human came to learn such things, he’s absently informed that,

“I used to work in a junkshop in Tatooine. All sorts of ship parts came through.”

“I’m unfamiliar with this world.”

“Tell you what, if you ever meet anyone who’s heard it of it, send them my way, and I’ll make your next repair free.”

“Oh! I’m afraid I don’t have any earth money...”

“Ugh, of course you don’t. it’s cool, capitalism sucks anyway and everyone’s entitled to free transportation, regardless of the area they happen to live. I do ask that if you can’t pay for the repairs that you spend an equivalent number of hours either attending one of my free auto classes, or volunteer at a community-led charities of your choice, here I’ll get you a pamphlet-”

So the Martian Manhunter becomes a weekly volunteer at a Midwestern Food Waste Reclamation Facility. J’onn J’onzz ends up becoming Anakin Skywalker’s friend well before he becomes comes truly comfortable around Kal-El. For a telepath, 39 year old Anakin’s Jedi orderly mind is a soothing relief.

(again, Anakin has spent far more time meditating on Earth then he ever did at the temple. Before all this, spent five years dutifully memorizing the Jedi way even as he struggled to live up it’s basic practices. For the first few years on earth, religiously practicing every meditation technique Obi-Wan ever taught him, thinking obsessively about the philosophies he never had time to really process, is just a desperate attempt to reconnect with the force, prove himself worthy of it. But even after he gives up on ever touching the force again, he keeps up the practice, he can’t release his emotions exactly, but he does find peace. The tendency to stop mid-rant to earnestly pronounce made up zen bullshit and then sit quietly for an hour before picking up on his tirade again as though there was no interruption is one of the things many things people find profoundly weird about him)

Kal-El doesn’t stop asking new aliens and dimensional travelers if they’ve ever heard of Coruscant, or Hutts, or the Jedi Order. Anakin might have given up, but Superman remembers his older brother scrubbing away his own tears to focus on helping Clark calm down enough to touch the floor again. The more the Kryptonian’s powers developed in alarming ways, the more Anakin set aside talk of missing his home galaxy. Anakin might have claimed it wasn’t like that, but Clark was determined to take every chance his increasingly weird life threw at him, no matter how vanishingly small.

In the middle of his first battle with Braniac, Clark starts insulting his incomplete database. The world collector pauses, demanding a more precise explanation. Clark complies, giving his best technical description of Coruscant’s cityscape, Tatooine’s binary star system, and so on. Braniac is so distracted that Superman recovers completely from his kryptonite poisoning and easily saves the day.

Neither the lantern corp or the denizens of the neutral zone have the answers. Superman doesn’t mention it it Anakin, but he never stops looking and listening.

“How did you even meet that guy?” Flash asks curiously after stopping to say hello on one of their after work laps of the country. 

“Aliens among us support group,” Kal-El responds deadpan. 

“Oh. Wait, what? He’s an alien? I thought he was from the future or something! You’re messing with me. No way that’s a thing. How many people are in the support group? This is a joke, right?”

“Sorry, most of them aren’t out and I don’t want to violate their privacy- a lot of them have high profile jobs. How do you think I met J’onn?”

“SUPES I’M FREAKING OUT RIGHT NOW YOU’VE GOTTA STOP”

Anakin is just sort of vaguely known by a solid chunk of the super community as ‘that one midwestern zen space mechanic’ and no one really questions it because everyone’s life has just gotten so goddamn weird. A few of them know he used to be a space wizard of some kind. Space wizards now being a regular hazard of life on earth, no one has reason to doubt this, and it’s as good an explanation as any for Anakin’s general vibe.

well. almost no one doubts this. Batman does not simply accept Anakin’s general bullshittery without carefully investigating and drawing his own conclusions. He does not share these with anyone.

But one day Clark- this is well after Superman became Kal-El to him, and not long after Kal-El tells him to call him Clark- comes up to him and asks for his help finding about an alternate universe. Knowing and dreading where this is going, Batman stalls,

“Shouldn’t you be asking one of the league members who regularly travels between universes?”

“I have, over the years,” Clark admits, awkwardly scuffing a boot on the floor of the cave. “But no one’s familiar with the exact one I’m looking for, and I thought since you’re a detective, and also one of the smartest people I know, you might be able to help me...”

“You’re an investigator yourself, and you can survive the vacuum of space,” Bruce shoots back flatly. “I’ve told you before Gotham is my priority, and this has ‘personal project’ all over it.”

“Come on, B, please,” Superman pleads, trailing Batman around the cave like an overgrown puppy. “In a few months it will have been 30 years! He’s my brother! Just let me see the research you’ve already done!”

“Who says I’ve already done research on your brother?”

Clark shoots him a look. And Bruce concedes the point with a grunt.

“I’ll need need to talk with him first,” Bruce finally concedes. “Bring him by the cave. Take the-”

“Take the tunnel entrance, I know, I know,” Clark agrees with a grin. “This doesn’t mean he’s authorized to know your secret identity. Thanks Bruce, this means a lot. I’ll ask him tomorrow about his schedule.”

Superman flies off and Batman scrubs his face with a gloved hand. After a moment he pulls up Anakin’s file on the main monitor. Bruce honestly respects and likes the man, as much as he respects and likes anyone who’s not family. He admires his sense his style, appreciates his upgrades to the batmobile, and is impressed by both this civil rights work and his additions to the scientific community.

That doesn’t mean he’s not convinced that Anakin’s brother is a bit insane. Again, he’s not judging! He dresses like a bat to scare random henchmen and beat up actual demigods! He wishes his rogues gallery was as capable of directing their ptsd-inspired delusions and staggering intellects towards such productive pursuits!

Bruce was already in quiet awe of the Kent’s ability to raise an outrageously superpowered being without blowing up a chunk of the country; their success in derailing a supervillian origin story just puts him over the edge. He stares at the three most likely profiles he’s pulled together. Christen Jones, from a negligent family, death certificate filled out suspicously sloppily at age 3. Earl Lucas, went missing at age 9, both parents dead in a violent assault. And Jake Hayden, who at age 5 disappeared along with the rest of his family in a seismic accident later linked to Luthercorp.

Anyone of them could have suffered on the streets for years and coped by establishing an elaborate fantasy world, aided by self medication, only to eventually be picked up by the Kent’s and start healing. Certainly Anakin had the intellect to create worlds in his mind. All his rogues were smart enough to create their own little realities in their heads- it doesn’t mean they were actually reachable. 

Unfortunately Anakin had a Kryptonian younger brother who was determined to actually find the space wizard knight homeworld, even as the 'Jedi’ in question had slowly moved away his reliance on the delusion as an adult. Batman really didn’t see any way bringing up his conclusions to Anakin or Clark could possibly be helpful, and so many alien allies had a ‘If you find about the Jedi please contact Kal-El of Krypton on Earth’ pamphlet that it would be excruciatingly awkward to try and discretely correct anyone.

Bruce was not looking forward to this conversation.

[sapphicwhxre]

you

♥︎ pairing: ginny weasley x fem!houseneutral!reader

♥︎ summary: ginny distances herself from you because she thinks you love someone else.

♥︎ requested: yes | no

♥︎ warnings: angst, heartbreak, self hate/comparison, total inconsistency since if you're in the trio’s year you wouldn’t have class with ginny + astoria isn’t in ginny’s year but shush its a fic

pumpkin pasties, chocolate frogs, and all your other favourite treats jumped around in ginny’s bag. the gryffindor girl had gone to help ron woo some mystery girl who he’d taken a liking to and stumbled upon his stash of candies. ginny had called it a fee for her services and decided she’d share her earnings with the girl she loved most, both as a friend and more ─ that girl was you and as far as ginny knew, you were completely oblivious to her feelings.

it was a wednesday afternoon so she could only assume you were having your weekly study session with the gryffindor golden girl herself, hermione granger.

the pep in her step made her red hair bounce on her shoulders, her excitement to see you growing with each one she took. ginny turned the corner, finally at your study spot and she paused. you looked emotional, to put it simply, and you clutched what appeared to be a crumpled piece of parchment that someone had changed their mind about tossing.

there was a nervous gloss to your eyes and ginny thought she should leave, letting you and hermione talk alone. but her curiosity and just the way she cared for you got the best of her.

taking a deep breath and not noticing ginny behind the pillar ─ where she wasn’t so much as hiding, but quietly observing ─ you started to read off of the parchment. “there’s no easy way to say this,” you read clearly, but your shy, quivering smile gave away how you felt about reading what was written. was it a letter? had you written it? “but i love you.”

ginny’s heart stopped. she swallowed thickly, uncertain of how to process the sinking feeling in her chest. you exhaled shakily and smiled, biting your lip and staring down at the words you'd written.

“i love your hair,” you laughed, running your hand over your own nervously. “i love your eyes when you’re happy and the sound of your voice. did you know your nose scrunches when you laugh? it’s adorable. i’ve never met someone who brights up my life like you do. i love how you always know what to say and i love that i can be myself with you. i love your heart, you’re everything i adore. i love when i can look into your eyes because mine fill with the love i’ve only ever felt for you. the only thing more beautiful to me is you. it’s that same look that i’ve never been able to tell if you’ve given me back. my thoughts go cloudy when i’m with you. i love you so much. you’re... you. how could i not have fallen in love with you?"

as she looked at hermione’s angel-like face, ginny felt hot drops of some form of sadness more intense than she even knew possible well up in her eyes. hermione’s lips were parted in awe and she was smiling.

hermione granger, brightest, most beautiful witch of her age. beside you, in ginny’s opinion, but you were right. how could you not have fallen in love with hermione?

you folded up the letter and sighed, no longer reading but still going. “even if you don't love me, it was worth every word. i’ve never regretted anything when it comes to loving you. yours, y/n l/n.”

hermione grinned at you, “that was beautiful, y/n. truly... gods, i didn’t know you had that in you.” ginny fled, not wanting to watch what came next or hear what hermione had to say about how she felt for you. she’d break like the porcelain her skin resembled if hermione said she loved you back... if hermione kissed you, like ginny had only dreamed of.

wiping away the tears that stained her cheeks, she hated herself. y/n loves hermione. she just wished she hadn’t listened. she shouldn’t have fallen for you in the first place or let herself have foolish hope. even more foolish to think she could ever win you over when you could have hermione. older, brighter, and beautiful. she was fool, and now ginny believed had paid the price for it.

but had she stayed only a second longer, she’d have heard hermione’s stunned words. “ginny’s going to love every word, y/n, i know it.” bubbling with nerves, you threw yourself to hug her and squeezed tightly, just as ginny turned to steal one last glance at you. “thank you ‘mione, you’re the best.”

you were inaudible from the distance but there you were in hermione’s arms, giggling and chattering. despite the fact that you were joking about her own crush, ron, the sight only made ginny sick. ginny lost her appetite and made her way to her dorm, instead of the great hall where dinner would be starting in just a few minutes.

the heartbroken girl probably would have thrown up right then and there, had she seen you and hermione walk into the great hall. arm in arm, you were practically shaking with anticipation. of course, she’d incorrectly imagined that you’d be parading in with intertwined fingers and smeared lipstick but through a made up mind, it’d look like all the same.

“where’s gin?” you found a seat next to ron and harry, scanning the table for her red ponytail. through a mouthful of food, ron shrugged and answered, “must have gotten held up.” hermione rolled her eyes with disgust, silently scolding him for his ill manners.

you took the opportunity to tease the two. “never invite me to dinner at your home, save the fighting for your kids.” they both blushed heavily and stammered out how they’d never fancy the other, then immediately spewing out offense at the implication. ron huffed and harry spoke over them, rolling his eyes heavily.

“what about you, y/n? i thought you and ginny would be an item by now,” harry didn't really care either way, but it did seem ridiculous for the two of you to dance around dating for so long, especially since he somewhat saw her as a little sister. and truth be told, everyone was curious about you two.

even ron perked up and hermione smirked knowingly. “leave her alone, it’s none of your business,” she announced.

ron narrowed his eyes and started, “hermione, do you know something?” hurrying to stop them from bickering again, you cleared your throat. “i wrote ginny a letter, laying out exactly how i feel for her. now if you’ll excuse me, i’m going to go find her because i don’t think she’s coming.”

you hopped out of your seat, taking some food for her, and left poor harry alone with the arguing lovebirds to go confess your feelings.

you hummed to yourself, going to knock on ginny’s dorm door. her dorm mate opened the door and looked you up and down, glaring angrily. “what do you want?” she crossed her arms and scoffed. taken aback, you blinked and searched the room for ginny, who was curled up in her bed crying.

“excuse me? get out of my way, i need to see ginny. is she alright?” the girl eyed you, as if scanning you for a lie, and she supposed you were sincere in your concern. “she’ll be fine, just give her some space.”

without another word, the gryffindor slammed the door in front of you and you were left staring at the shut dorm, filled with confusion and a harrowing worry. your hand fell and defeated, you shoved your love letter into your pocket.

you didn’t see ginny the next day in class. or the day after that. she wasn’t talking to any of her brothers, you, or harry and had even turned the other way when you waved her down. it was like she was avoiding you and after a week of it, you came to the conclusion that she must be. ginny’s schedule resided in your mind so you set to confront her after potions. a girl with a mission was a force that should never be reckoned with ─ ginny taught you that.

“it shouldn't be too hard if we get some studying in,” ginny was discussing an upcoming exam with astoria greengrass, a slytherin girl in her year. you rather awkwardly stopped in front of the two and watched them part ways, ginny sending you a scarily pissed off glare. the tension could be cut with a knife and you and ginny blurted at the same time.

“you’re avoiding me!”

“i heard you and hermione!”

anger slipping, ginny avoided your eyes. “well that’s why i’ve been avoiding you. i’m sorry, i know i should be happy for you,” she started to ramble and you stared at her, baffled. happy for you and hermione? “i thought i didn’t care, that i could just push my feelings for you aside. it’s just that when you read that letter to hermione, there was so much... love in your voice. it hurt. i want to be the one you love.”

dumbfounded, you realised that she’d thought the letter was for hermione. “oh fuck, ginny no,” you stumbled, making her step back, assuming you were rejecting her. this wasn’t how you wanted to tell her that you loved her, it was supposed to go better than this. “wait! what i mean is─”

“you made it pretty damn clear what you mean, y/n,” ginny sniffled. “i think it's best if i just─” you cut her off with a kiss. you grabbed her face, kissing her like you’d never tasted something so sweet and you just couldn't get enough. she pulled back, breath heavy on your lips. “but... but hermione,” she whispered and you laughed, eyes fluttering shut and head shaking.

“i was reading it to her to practice on you. it was always for you ginny, it’s always been you.” the smile that you missed all week finally enraptured the lips you’d be kissing as much as you possibly can now that you knew you could. “and besides, she fancies your brother.” ginny thought for a moment and then sighed in embarrassment. but she said nothing as she knew you’d only reassure her and she knew this was how things ought to be.

ginny wrapped her arms around you and melted into your embrace, burying herself in your warmth and tugging you closer ─ though with no distance between you two, the gesture wasn’t very efficient. “so you love me?” she just wanted to hear you say it.

“i love you, ginny.”

“i love you, y/n.”

──────♥︎

[annabethy]

Not quite a role swap but like artistic Annabeth and STEM Percy AU? Just fluff and that couple dynamic but not in the way it’s normally done I think would be immaculate

in which Percy’s good with numbers, but Annabeth teaches him the importance of art,, percabeth

Percy’s good with numbers. He sees the world from a logical point of view, and he always has. Math is something that makes sense to him — he prefers it over everything else because he finds that with numbers, there’s always an answer. He isn’t fond of the unknown. He prefers a set process that has a definitive answer. It’s the life of engineering that’s followed him into his personal life. But with Annabeth, he finds he prefers the unknown.

There’s something artistic about Annabeth, Percy can’t help but think. It’s the way she focuses on each piece she creates, entirely consumed in the beauty of it. It’s the way she bites on her tongue that just pokes through her lips with every brush stroke. It’s her paint-splattered clothes and messy ponytail that make her seem like a masterpiece, handcrafted from the heavens above.

He finds beauty in her and the things that she creates. There are no logistics in art. It’s open-ended, with infinite possibilities, and he quickly learns to appreciate the perfection of all things that have no definitive answer. He wants to venture into the unknown and see what it creates when he gives it the opportunity to.

Annabeth, just like the art she creates, is unpredictable. No amount of math or science can ever do things in the way that she does, one paint stroke at a time, and he doesn’t want it to.

From where Percy’s seated in the art studio, he can see the way sunlight pours over Annabeth’s body. They’re high up in the New York City skyline, and it’s only appropriate that the background is as breathtaking as Annabeth is in this moment.

She’s covered in paint, as usual, but it just makes him see her as a work of art. There’s a smudge of grey on her cheek from where she’d attempted to scratch an itch, though he doesn’t tell her that. Her hair glows golden, flyaways visible against the illuminated skyline.

He shifts in his seat on a table clattered with art supplies, and Annabeth shoots him a scolding look.

“Don’t move,” she warns him, but there’s a playful tone to her voice.

“It’s not my fault you refuse to put a couch in here,” he says, pointedly shifting again. “I’m going to break my tailbone against this table. And really, is it that bad of an idea to have some furniture in here? I spend almost all my time in this place.”

“You’re welcome to go to the library with all your other engineers,” she sneers, lifting a wet paintbrush at him menacingly. “Maybe you should have chosen a better major.”

“I like numbers,” he defends. “With numbers, you can be sure. With numbers, there’s always a correct answer. You just have to be smart enough to find it.”

“I can’t believe I’m dating someone who like calculus.”

“All I’m saying is that I like being sure.”

Annabeth lifts the corner of her lips as she resumes painting against the canvas. He cranes his neck to see what she’s working on, but it’s no use. She’s turned too far away from him to properly see anything besides a blur.

“I like art,” Annabeth says softly. “Are you sure about me?”

She says it with a calm voice. It’s a light comment, and he thinks that she’s just messing with him, but it still kills him to think she may feel he’s unsure about her when she’s the one thing he knows he needs.

He stands up from the table, clearing a spot for his computer that had been on his lap. He has to step over various canvases and piles of things he couldn’t even begin to name before he makes his way to her side. He immediately pulls her against him, lips pressing against her paint-covered cheek with a featherlight touch.

“You’re the one thing I am sure about,” he whispers into her ear, pressing a kiss to the shell of her ear. He can practically feel the shiver that races its way up her spine, and it makes him smile. “You, Annabeth Chase, are a work of art. You make me see the world in a way I never did before. If there’s one thing I can promise you, it’s that you’re it for me.”

Annabeth turns her face so that she can look him in the eyes. She looks so cute from close up that he can’t help but kiss the tip of her nose.

“You’re it for me too,” she tells him. “Even if you like doing math for a living.”

Percy laughs into the crook of her neck, nuzzling the soft skin there. He breathes her in, cherishing the smell of her and a mix of paints and primers.

He stays there for a moment, hugging her by the waist with his face pressed into her neck while she begins to finish what she’s painting. He likes being with her like this, against her warm body that smells so much like his home – like the home he wants to come back to every night and wake up to every morning.

When he does lift his head, he sees her entirely devoured in finishing what she’s created. Up close, he can better see the way her eyebrows scrunch slightly, and the reflection of the canvas popping with color. Her eyelashes are curved to perfection, framing the gray irises he’s fallen in love with.

And he remembers why he fell in love with those eyes now; it was the first painting she’d gifted to him after he told her about his fondness for the ocean. He’d told her about his days spent at Montauk, watching the waves crash against the shore, feeling the sunlight burn his skin. And he remembers that she’d told him how she prefers the rainy days where thunder can be felt shaking the ground, where it pours so hard the power goes out. It wasn’t until weeks later that she showed him what she’d been working on, and it was an image of a storm along the coast of Montauk. A symbol of the two of them coming together — the storm in the sea. Annabeth had come clean and mentioned spending a few weekends at the beach he grew up along, how she had spent hours trying to get it right. The dark clouds above the sea she’d painted had matched her eyes – the violent waves crashing against the rocky shore symbolized the fierce emotion he sees every time he looks into her eyes.

It was that second that he fell in love with her, pulling her in for a kiss because it was the only way he knew how to show her just what he was feeling. It was something he couldn’t put into words. It was something that only her painting could encapsulate. It was wonderful and perfect and them and—

It was art.

“That’s beautiful,” Percy tells her now, watching as she paints before his eyes. It’s an image of the two of them, and one that he recognizes all too well. It’s the picture he knows is sitting in his wallet right this second.

The canvas is filled with whites and grays and blacks and everything in between as the two of them are standing beneath the rain on the beach, tangled in each other’s arms. Their hair is soaked, and rain is pouring around them hard, but they’re standing amidst it all, lips locked, to prolong the moment.

“Do you remember that day?” she asks. “I couldn’t possibly forget.”

“I miss it,” she says. “I know it started raining, and we couldn’t really do much, but it was just…”

It was perfect.

Percy kisses her forehead. “I know.”

He isn’t sure how long he stands there with her, watching her finish the painting in silence, but he doesn’t care. He is intrigued by the way she perfectly portrays the emotion behind it. All he can think about is how amazing it is, watching a scene unravel before his eyes.

Percy will always have a love for math. It’s what makes him comfortable. Numbers and equations do not fail so long as you know what to do. A part of him will always prefer the mathematics behind life.

The other part of him finds he needs the beautiful creation that comes with not knowing.

Annabeth is his polar opposite and his other half.

She is the art to his science. She taught him what it means to really sit back and let life create something beautiful. And he supposes it really did create something amazing. It brought her into his life, let them grow a love so strong no math can ever begin to explain it.

Percy used to think that letting go of control was the end of everything. He’s just now learning that it was truly the beginning.

[ncji]

Hiashi x Neji, Neji manipulating Hiashi into doing or not doing stuff?

[ So I may or may not have thought about this last night. Sometimes, I like to think about scenarios where one version of Neji meets another. Usually, I keep it in the default universe. Right now, ItaNeji!Neji (32) resides there permanently, thank Sasuke, with RevivedCanon!Neji (18), thank Orochimaru, and, occasionally, another Neji pops in to scar the others. Last night, there was HiaNeji!Neji (22).

He's a beauty, let me tell you. You can tell he's a pampered prince. Like Hiashi, he prefers to wear robes when not out on a mission. It's more comfortable, and it's a status symbol. He's been pushing to present the same as the head of the clan since he was young. He's also been fed plenty of fine proteins and trained by the best, so his body is in immaculate condition.

Everyone in Hiashi's home knows why he's beyond privileged. They all know why he's practically their second leader. It would be impossible for them not to know. Neji is always hanging off of Hiashi, draped over his shoulders while Hiashi is sitting to enjoy meditation or tea. He always has his hands on him. He's affectionate and adoring.

While there is a massive amount of guilt for sleeping with his nephew, which is why Neji gets anything and everything he could ever want, Hiashi admittedly enjoys being lavished in attention. Neji seems to love him, the way he'll push his hair behind his ear and hold his gaze for a few quickening beats of his heart. He's been swept off his feet every day since he first gave in to Neji's desires.

Neji's manipulation.

Before he could read that cursed letter, Neji wasn't satisfied with his station in life. He was tired of humoring Hinata with sparing matches, he was tired of trying to memorize from afar techniques that his body was practically made to perform, and he was tired of living beneath the weaker Hyuuga heirs. He wanted a better life. From his surroundings, he realized there were people who easily got what they wanted out of stronger, more powerful men, beautiful women. Neji was not a beautiful woman, but he was pretty...and some had called him a genius.

The idea disturbed him at first. He even threw up while considering what exactly would be expected of him if he managed to seduce his father's twin. That didn't make the rewards of such a sacrifice, if it worked, less appealing, though.

So he practiced seducing men, gaining a bit of a reputation in the process. As he learned what men wanted, he also learned something about his own desires, that he felt fulfilled by the affections and love of an older man. It was right what the rumors said, he was a daddy's boy looking for a new daddy. And a disturbing amount of men were happy to indulge the flirty little thing.

When he was finally able to seduce a married stick-in-the-mud and get a new shuriken set out of him, he knew he was ready. He had taught himself how to smile, how to conceal his real emotions, and how to please an adult man. He was close to his prize.

It took some time to understand Hiashi as a person, his preferences, his habits, little things he would appreciate another person paying attention to. When Neji had it all down, though, he began his most difficult mission.

It started with a soft, "Uncle..." which Neji never called Hiashi.

That got his attention, and the clan head abandoned his meditation to glance worriedly at the boy standing in the entrance to his personal quarters. "What is it, Neji?" He watched as his nephew took a few timid steps inside.

"I just--..." He didn't finish, holding onto uncertainty, because there were two things that made men drop their guard, women and children in distress.

It worked. Hiashi turned away from the colorful glow of the setting sun through his thin door to the outside to his troubled teen nephew. "You can tell me," he urged, arms stretching out to beckon him closer.

Neji seemed to hesitate, before he closed Hiashi's door behind him and nearly jumped into his arms. Clinging to his neck, he asked him, "Can I sleep in here tonight?"

While he might have been shocked by it, Hiashi still hugged his nephew back and pet his hair. "Yes, but I want to know what happened..."

Neji didn't give him a reason.

He went to Hiashi every night, always asking to stay the night and never telling him why. The routine then became a simple glance into the room by the younger Hyuuga and open arms by the elder. Then, Neji would hug him for a long moment, sometimes even kiss his cheek when he was in a good mood, and help Hiashi through his bedtime routine. Hiashi would help Neji with his too once his nephew moved some necessary items into his room. Soon enough, it became Neji's room as well. It was such a smooth transition that Hiashi thought nothing of it, just of how happy he was to have his nephew's love for the first time since he was only a baby. Hell, he was happy to have anyone's love. His own daughters were too cautious around him to show him love.

Neji's affections gradually escalated, from a hug and a kiss on the cheek to a slow stroke over Hiashi's toned shoulder as he helped him out of his robe for the night. Hiashi caught on, of course, but he didn't want to ruin his relationship with the last remaining piece of his brother that he had. That was why he said nothing when Neji asked about his day while draped over his shoulders, a hand beneath Hiashi's robe on his pec, his stroking only briefly interrupted by the small obstacle that was Hiashi's nipple. He was silent when that had lazily dangled lower and nails idly scraped over his abdomen. It was easy to just not address it because Neji managed to do it while acting so casual otherwise.

He couldn't ignore when Neji began to sit in his lap, though, not even when he kept his hips a respectable distance back. His legs were still over Hiashi's thighs, and Neji's hold around his neck threatened to bring him closer. It was too much for him. "Neji..."

The discomfort was clear, but Neji had worked too hard to let Hiashi slip through his fingers. Out came a weapon he could only use once. "Yes, father?" He then proceeded to act as shocked by it as Hiashi looked.

Ironically, Hiashi pulled him closer, hugging him tightly to himself. He couldn't bring himself to comment on anything that night, not about how Neji remained pressed against him and certainly not about how his nephew definitely smelled his neck.

After, any hesitation from Hiashi was met with questions about Neji's father, and they went to bed smiling about recalled memories and cuddling in increasingly more inappropriate ways. Bonding was bonding, though, so Hiashi found it harder and harder to address it with each new affection.

By the time Neji kissed him, Hiashi was so wrapped around his finger that, Hizashi forgive him, he didn't just kiss him back, he initiated a second kiss. It earned him something that finally tore down his defenses completely.

"I love you."

Three words whispered against his lips, and Hiashi knew he was in too deep, yes, but he never wanted out. Neji was everything he wanted in one precious little package, the nephew he had wanted to love him, a person who cared about him, a piece of his twin that he could keep at his side, and a loving partner who doted on him constantly.

The relationship moved quickly from there. Shamefully, it was Hiashi who hugged Neji to him after their kiss one fateful night. Too low, he thinks. His arms must have been too low when he hugged him. To this day, he believes it's what prompted Neji to move his hips in such an erotic fashion.

It started the first sex act between them, grinding their lengths together, Neji's briefs pulled around Hiashi's swollen cock. For Hiashi, it felt wrong, yet addictive. For Neji, it felt like a mission success.

Neji's requests came soon after. Food. Sandals. A better futon for their bedroom. New clothes.

Along with his requests came affirmations and affections. "You're the best leader this clan has ever had, and you'll only get better. You're fated for greatness," along with tender kisses and soft strokes of his hair...then his dick.

Neji initiated intercourse. Frotting wasn't enough for him. He pushed at Hiashi's hips with his feet and slid up on the futon until the head of Hiashi's manhood was aligned with his hole. "Inside..."

Hiashi was so shocked he had to ask, "Are you sure?" It was hard to believe Neji knew what he was asking for. When his nephew nodded and pushed his hips down against the prodding glans, he gasped softly and obliged. Slowly, he opened him up with his fingers, until Neji was whimpering underneath him. Then, he pushed his full thick length into his nephew.

Neji found it hard to relax around such an invasion, but he had to. He felt the burn of a tear, then it went more smoothly. When he felt his sac against his rear, he knew he had him for as long as he wanted him. That satisfied look on Hiashi's face was all he needed to be certain. It hurt, the penetration itself, but it felt amazing to have everything he wanted within his reach...and within his body.

As much as he loathed to admit it, Hiashi treated him more than well. He listened to him when he complained, he constantly asked if Neji was comfortable with their relationship and reassured him they could remain close without sexual intimacy, and he loved him. Physically...and emotionally. Not just as his treasured nephew, but as a partner. And Neji loved him too. For his own pride, he would crush him if he ever dared to deny him, but it would hurt him to do so.

The sex lasted longer than Neji had ever experienced before, Hiashi made certain of that. Not that he was aware of the men before him. He just wanted to ensure Neji couldn't even pleasure himself to the extent Hiashi could pleasure him. He edged him until his brother's son whined. When Hiashi came, he saw fireworks.

When Neji came, he saw stars explode, supernovas. He was left quaking and oversensitive, drool rolling out of the corner of lips parted in a silent moan. Hiashi had pleasured him like a man, and Neji was only thirteen. He could barely handle it.

In adulthood, Hiashi hides only what the public wouldn't want to see. If they know, they know. Yes, he feels guilt over what he does to his nephew while his brother watches over them, but shame is something Neji took from him a long time ago, along with everything he could ask for with his mouth full of clan leader cock.

Neji? Sitting up on his pedestal of privilege and possessions, he feels no shame. Hell, he taunted his cousin at the Chuunin Exams by telling her her weakness is why Hiashi prefers him calling him daddy. It started as a means to a better life, but it's currently a relationship he puts his all into. Honestly, he earns what he receives from Hiashi.

It's messed up, but they're strangely good for each other, and their relationship is good for the clan as a whole.

Bonus Info:

When Neji tried to sacrifice himself to save Hinata, Hiashi was hot on his tailfeathers. It was such a close call that Hiashi collided with the side of the spikes. With his own momentum and a desperate burst of chakra, he managed to knock the spikes off course and save his nephew, his daughter, and Naruto. Neji had two nasty gashes in his side from the spikes, but he was alive. He now has two long scars on his left flank, like a beast ripped him out of harm's way with its sharp claws. He likes to joke he fought the Byakugan-eyed beast and lost.

Hiashi began to reform the clan before the Chuunin Exams, unbeknownst to Neji. He sat and listened to a far more emotional speech by Neji, amped up to tug at Hiashi's heartstrings, then told his nephew it was his words that had moved him to make change. He doesn't see the need to tell him that ass made him territorial and want to ensure no other Main House Hyuuga could snatch it up.

Gai nearly killed Hiashi when he found out. Neji threatened to do to himself what Gai was threatening to do to Hiashi. Reluctantly, Gai opted out of the murder charge, but he won't set foot around Hiashi without Kakashi holding him back.

Lee and Tenten are still pretty horrified by their relationship, but Neji is happy enough in it that they don't have a solid argument against it aside from, "But that's incest...in a clan built on...incest..." They just have an agreement not to talk about it.

Hinata and Hanabi are traumatized. Their dad is fucking their genetic half-brother, and they can hear it. "Ahn, Hiashi!" Hinata hasn't said a word about it. Hanabi makes her opinion known if they keep her up past when she's ready to sleep. She doesn't think Neji's as cool as canon Hanabi thinks canon Neji is. She would if she didn't know he could swallow a banana whole. "THANKS FOR THE DEMONSTRATION WHILE I'M TRYING TO EAT MY BREAKFAST! GO TO YOUR ROOM BEFORE YOU DO THAT STUFF!"

When Neji doesn't want to hear another lecture about his relationship with Hiashi, he starts revealing intimate details about their sex life. It usually makes the person walk away. Or attack Hiashi, in the case of Gai.

RevivedCanon!Neji already wishes he were dead again, but, now, he wants nothing more than death's cold embrace. His aniki, ItaNeji!Neji, will try to bleach his mind with descriptions of fluffy baby birds, but even he wants to set the moon on a collision course with the planet...again.

...I should mention HiaNeji!Neji seduced canon Hiashi because RevivedCanon!Neji didn't believe his uncle would do such a thing. It turns out, yeah, he would. Now, the other Nejis are grossed out and having a crisis because HOW LONG HAS HIASHI WANTED TO FUCK NEJI? ]

[i-may-have-a-point]

Review of 17x14 “Look Up Child”

It has been three years since I wrote my last review of a Grey’s Anatomy episode.  After Sarah left, I stepped away from my fan accounts and did not plan on ever looking back.  Somehow though, through the dedication of our captains and the strength of the Japril fandom, we got one more episode that confirmed what we have known all along – Japril is forever.  

The episode opens to Jackson driving through a storm and we can see in his eyes that he is fighting an internal storm as well.  He winces at his injured hand while his mind flashes through thoughts of holding Harriet with April for the first time, the pain of watching April marry Matthew, and meeting his dad.  These moments, along with many others have led Jackson yearning for more out of life, and so he returns to Montana hopeful he will find answers there.

The last thing Robert Avery expects, for a second time, is to find the son he left behind standing in the doorway of his restaurant.  

“Everybody alive?” Robert asks.

Jackson making this journey again, after the way they left things before, could only be for one reason in Robert’s mind.  Jackson reassures him that is not the reason he came, and Robert relaxes easily into his friendly charm, offering coffee and a place for Jackson to “take a load off.”  He has no idea of the “load” Jackson truly bears.

Robert is awaiting the arrival of his co-worker so they can deliver pre-packaged meals to families in need in their community.  This gesture may seem small, but to Jackson, this is a subtle sign that he on the right path.  There is more he can do than what he has found within the walls of Grey-Sloan Memorial. Their small talk is awkward, and Jackson wants to get right to what he came for – answers.  Robert has other ideas.  There are sandwiches to be made and they can talk while they work.

After following Robert to the porch, Jackson realizes this sandwich-making process is going to be more time-consuming than he thought.  And so is getting the answers he came for.  He reiterates to Robert that he doesn’t want anything from him – not turkey, not coffee – just answers.

Jackson presses his dad for information about why he left the foundation, the problems he saw with it, and Catherine’s perspective on it all while Robert deflects the questions with vague answers and praise of the ham and turkey sandwich.  Robert is not ready to answer these questions because answering them would mean dealing with the memories of the past and the regret he carries.  So instead, he smiles kindly and puts Jackson in charge of the meat slicer, which leads to the first moment in Jackson’s life where his dad taught him how to do something. (Although we all know he didn’t teach him well!) This interaction allows Jackson to let his guard down just slightly and they find they have some common views on the Avery name, money, and pressure that comes with it all.  Jackson tries some of Robert’s “best in the state” turkey and Robert opens up about his own shame and abandonment by his father. It seems pain runs through generations of Avery men.

Maybe it is that realization, or the cup of Robert’s coffee in his hand, that makes Jackson relax enough to begin opening up.  He shares his desire to do more to change the system has seen fail so many people.  He isn’t even sure if he can, but he knows he feels compelled to try.  Robert agrees that people should do what makes them happy.  He did and he “never looks back.”

But Jackson does.  He can’t stop looking back and wondering why his dad was absent from every moment that mattered.  

“I realize that it’s really messed me up…pretty badly. And, um, it just made it hard to maintain relationships and stuff.  Having this inclination to run away all the time.  And I know, I know, running away doesn’t actually solve anything.  I know that. So…and I’ve tried.  I’ve tried really hard to rid myself of the shame and the pain that comes with all that, and uh, you know just kind of doubled-down on being the best at everything – the best father I could possibly be.  I probably stayed in my marriage longer than I should have, went along with foundation business longer than I should have, but no matter what, when it gets rough I just end up right there, running into the woods trying to fight the you in me.”

What begins as a tearful explanation builds to all of Jackson’s pent-up emotions overflowing at his dad.  He is distracted and emotional, cutting his hand on the slicer with blood pouring out, while his heart pours out at the same time.  

Robert tends to Jackson’s injury, and they both feel it is a simple gesture that holds more weight than they know what to do with.  Robert tries to make light of the situation by joking about a family practice, but it is the idea of them as family that sends Jackson to find fresh air on the porch. It is here where Robert finally answers Jackson’s question of “Why?”

Running is what Robert does when things get too difficult, and that is what makes Jackson so afraid. He feels the same pull.  Just before he cut his hand, he was running down the long list of things he feels he has done wrong. Does he truly believe he stayed in his marriage too long?  No. But to Jackson that is just one more way he is like his dad.  He is so messed up by the fear of turning into Robert that he breaks things off before they get too difficult, before he gets to the point Robert did.  If he can maintain a safe distance to the important things in his life, he won’t lose them and he won’t be like Robert.  “My divorce…maybe that would have been a good time for you to step in and share some wisdom.”  This isn’t who Jackson wants to be, but he is too scared of moving in either direction – scared of moving both toward or away from the things that matter, like April.  So instead, he suffers in an ambiguous middle ground.  One where he hasn’t completely abandoned anyone or anything and one where he hasn’t fully committed to anything either.  It is a balance he has tried to find for years, but it is also what is breaking him now.  

Truth be told, even Robert cannot fully run from what matters.  From his cabin in the woods, he admits that everyday he regrets leaving, and he buys gifts for a little girl he has never met in hopes that one day he will.

“You’re not a runner. If you were, you’d have been long gone by now…you have it in your soul to do the right thing.  To makes things right.  And you didn’t just fix a disaster, you made it better…on your worst day, you are ten times the man I am.”

And it is with those words Jackson makes his decision.  He is going to do the right thing.  He is going to take what seems like a disaster and make it better.

Arriving back in Seattle, Jackson goes straight to the people who matter most.  

Catherine is his first stop. He needs her blessing to take over the foundation.  Their money and influence can make life better for all people by bringing justice and equity to medicine and build a better future for Harriet.  Catherine’s Mama-heart breaks a little to see him go, but she cannot deny how proud of him she is.

With the rain still coming down, Jackson rings April’s doorbell and stresses over how he is going to approach asking her to move across the country for him.  How can he explain to her that this is not impulsive, this is not something he is doing on a whim?  

Yet, when the door opens, all his insecurities are quickly forgotten because seeing April only reminds him of why they have always been each other’s person and how she has always trusted him no matter what.  She trusted him the night of the boards with her heart and virginity, she trusted him with the decision to induce her pregnancy with Samuel to stop his pain, and she trusted him to run away from her wedding and the life she thought she was supposed to have.  But this is different.  So much has changed in the past few years.  Would she trust him now?

Jackson will have to wait to find out, though, because April is frantic.  Harriet is sick and April cannot get her fever down.  Jackson sees how stressed she is and immediately gives April what she needs.  He takes Harriet into her arms, both consoling her and helping April calm down and have a moment to breathe.  They fall into their usual banter and affectionate teasing.

Their conversations and interactions throughout the episode give us small glimpses of what we should have had the past several years had their story been written they way it should have been.  They naturally fall into their place as the loving, concerned parents unable to sleep while caring for their daughter.  They move through the house and around each other as if this is a familiar dance that they have done hundred times before.

Harriet’s sickness doesn’t seem to be the only thing April is stressed about.  Her living room is strewn with laundry and she quickly tries to clean it up while Jackson reassures her in his “bank voice” that it is fine. Too many pillows, but otherwise, fine. Jackson continues Daddy Duty by dancing with his daughter and April gets a chance to take a much-needed shower…until the storm knocks the power out.

Jackson and April alone at night in a storm, surrounded by candles, is the perfect set-up for an epic reunion, and while they may not have utilized the kitchen counter like we wanted them, too, they did reconnect on a level of clarity and maturity that shows how much they have grown.

There is also that not-so-little issue of Matthew.  Japril fans spotted early on that April was missing a particularly important ring, but it was even more telling when Jackson asked her directly if her and Matthew are happy, and she responded with simply, “We are busy.”  For a marriage that the terrible writing of season 14 wanted us to believe was ordained by God, how sad that you can’t even pretend to be happy. That one line conveyed so much more than what was stated.  It was clear from that point that Matthew and April’s marriage was over.

April is not the only one beating around the bush.  She quickly calls Jackson out on his “cagey” behavior of commenting on her exposed brick instead of saying why he actually showed up at her house late at night in the middle of a storm.  She can read him so well she knows there is something more, which is when we finally find out his plan – he is going to take over the Avery Foundation. The catch is, that means Jackson, as well as April and her family, have to move to Boston.

April responds by questioning if this is what Jackson actually wants because it never was before.  Is he going to move to Boston and then fail or regret his decision?  And while this seems unsupportive and harsh, April has to ask these questions because, as we find out later, that is exactly what happened to her.  She thought she was choosing the right path by marrying Matthew, but not only has their marriage failed, she regrets that they even tried. But Jackson doesn’t know this yet, so to defend his decision he uses Matthew proposing to April as an example of how he unconditionally supported her which not only hints at Jackson’s jealousy, but reinforces April’s fear that making a decision this big may not be the best choice.  She sees happiness for Jackson in the safe choice.  He can continue to rebuild faces, give little boy’s hands, and help people breathe again.  Maybe if she can convince him to stay with what he knows he won’t feel the hurt she is feeling right now. “Why would you want to give all that up?”

Jackson knows he can do all of that and more in Boston.  He can make a positive change in medicine, April can continue her work with the homeless, and Matthew will just follow because it is April, and that is the one reason Jackson likes him.  “He is gonna want to follow you anywhere.”  Jackson understands the urge to follow April anywhere.  The night continues with wine, snacks, and comfortable conversation but they don’t come to an agreement on what their future holds.

The storm breaks and morning comes.  Jackson, recognizing that April has been overwhelmed lets her sleep in, and she wakes up to the sounds of Harriet and Jackson happily eating breakfast and we get a glimpse of their happy, family mornings that we all know Boston will bring.  The three of them laugh and talk over pancakes, orange juice, and throw pillows and April admits that she should have been more supportive of Jackson’s plans.  If only they could get their timing right.  

The morning has brought with it clarity for April and she tells Jackson her answer is yes.  Yes, she believes he is “that guy.” Yes, she believes this could work.  Yes, they are going to Boston.  Shocked and surprised, Jackson offers to help talk to Matthew, but we find out that won’t be necessary.  As most of us suspected, the marriage that should have never happened is over.  One of the best lines of the episode is the slight dig that the writers (Sarah/Jesse?) took at the ridiculous story of April marrying Matthew.  “We kept trying to tell ourselves that our whole winding road was God’s plan to bring us back together.  But he was still so angry and hurt.  I mean, I left him at the altar and his wife died.  You know, you don’t just stop feeling hurt ‘cause it’s a better story if God brought us together in our pain.”  Enough said. And as much as we are not sad to see Matthew go, April is hurting, and Jackson recognizes that.  He takes her hand in a small gesture of comfort because he never wants to see her in pain.  (Thank you, Jesse, for improvising that.)  He gave her a reason to smile again.  Their family has a fresh start ahead in Boston.  

The episode closes with Harriet calling out for “Mommy and Daddy” as Jackson pulls April into a hug before leaving to prepare for their move, and April folds perfectly into his arms where she is supposed to be.  Fingers crossed for new horizons.  Maybe they finally did get their timing right.

[merakilyy]

Lan Qiren is Not a Completely Terrible Parent + Bonus Headcanon

Some disorganized thoughts on Lan Qiren!

A lot of my thoughts on Lan Qiren come from a bilibili article breaking down what it means be be righteous (雅正) in accordance to the Lan Sect’s motto. The article is in Chinese so I’ll just sum up some of the major ideas first:

***

~It fundamentally refutes the idea of Lan Wangji as the “black sheep” in the Lan Sect 

~It assumes Cloud Recesses has a highly collective intrasect environment. Children are raised not just by the parents, but by the entire Sect. 

~The Elders raised Wangji and saw him grew up and didn’t have the heart to hurt Wangji, even after he escaped with Wei Wuxian into the cave. Western fandom especially tends to see the elders as strict, conservative disciplinarians who are rigid in their beliefs to the point of hypocrisy. This meta refutes that. It’s unreasonable that Wangji, no matter how strong his cultivation, would be able to stand on his own against 33 seasoned cultivators. So, contrary to popular belief, the elders allowed Wangji to injure them so they would not have to harm a child of the Sect.

~Lan Sect rules are not about what is literally written, but the spirit of the rules. This also makes sense given that when you have 4000+ rules, some rules are bound to contradict one another. And, many rules are quite vague. Eg. “sneering for no reason is prohibited.” Where is the line that justifies sneering? There is none because the idea is not “don’t sneer for no reason,” the idea is “don’t be unnecessarily rude.” In many of the rules, there is room for interpretation and it is this process of interpretation that is valued over the literal inscription of the rules. 

~Basically, they are not good people because of the rules. They are good people because they are good people. The rules guide them to make good judgement, but good judgement does not comes from following the rules to a T.

~So the function of 雅正 (to be righteous) is internal, not performative.

~It is this internal clarity that makes Gusu Lan “innocent” (the word used is 纯真; 纯/chun = pure, clarity, genuine, practised and 真/zhen = true, real, genuine, clear)

~There is also a long history of Lans being deviant and rebellious. In CQL, there is Lan Yi who invents guqin battle techniques. They are also the only Clan to have been led by a female cultivator. Qingheng-jun clearly went against orthodoxy by marrying a murderer, but still remained in Cloud Recesses. We’re going to set aside consent here because is a total other separate conversation, but his punishment is self-imposed, not enforced by the Sect. So there are a lot of rules, but they aren’t pedantic. There is leeway, as seen in Lan Yi, but only within reason, as demonstrated by Qingheng-jun.

~Like his ancestors, Wangji also deviated from the straightforward path but his sect accepted his unrepentant love for Wei Wuxian in the end.

~In the end, Wangji gets what he wants: to live with Wei Wuxian in Cloud Recess. But he only gets this because the elders and Lan Qiren allow him to.

~To allow Wei Wuxian to exist in Cloud Recesses, the Lan Sect has to be more inclusive than we typically see them as.

~Despite everything, Lan Wangji still wants to return to Cloud Recesses because it is home to him.

~This is also my favourite explanation of Jingyi’s Jingyi-ness. Rather than Wangji (and possibly Xichen) singlehandedly creating a space for Jingyi, that space already existed. Jingyi isn’t as much of a black sheep as people portray him as because you don’t grow into a Jingyi if everyone is constantly yelling at you to follow rules. CQL Jingyi is plenty sassy, even in front of Lan Qiren, and Jingyi isn’t stupid! He was born and raised in Cloud Recesses, he knows when he is pushing several of the rules and he knows that he has the leeway to do so, and that Lan Qiren will not stop him (within reason).

~”Be righteous” is how the Lan motto is translated in English, but it’s….not exactly what it is in Chinese.

~In modern Chinese, it’s  雅正.  雅/ya = elegance, graceful and 正/zheng = positive, correct, straight, just. 

~Notice how the two parts of the motto contrast one another. Ya is outward, something that dictates how you act. Zheng is internal, determined by your actions and attitudes. Zheng is the foundation of Ya.

~As a related aside, the literary meaning of 雅正 is slightly different; it means to be correct and honest, and to welcome corrections to one’s shortcomings. The literary 雅 is to be proper。

~The meta ends with this beautiful line: 所谓的“雅正”，家族交出来，体雅是表象，心正才是更本。Now to ruin it in translation: “Each configuration of “righteousness,” as taught by the Sect, is outward physical elegance built on the foundation of a moral heart.”

~TLDR: Rebelliousness is a function of Gusu Lan, not an anomaly.

***

Onto some fun headcanons!

~Lan Qiren has personal issues with Wei Wuxian because of his mother, but he is more horrified by Wei Wuxian because Wei Wuxian has all this potential and then uses it to go down the heretial path?? Blaphemous. All that ability, all that work, only to throw it all away? Wei Wuxian is incredibly competent and Lan Qiren begrudgingly respects that competence. What he can’t stand is Wei Wuxian’s lackadaisical attitude towards his cultivation.

~In novel canon, Lan Qiren accepts Wangji and Wei Wuxian’s marriage. He definitely still has issues with Wei Wuxian for being a mass murderer, a demonic cultivator, for desecrating the dead, etc. Also for his general Wei Wuxian-ness. But Wei Wuxian is nothing is not incredibly competent and Lan Qiren eventually softens towards Wei Wuxian because of that competence. Once Wei Wuxian starts using that competence to be useful to the Sect and not just to be as annoying as possible, he gets Lan Qiren’s approval. 

~Secretly, of course. Lan Qiren would qi deviate before saying nice about Wei Wuxian to his face.

~I totally wrote a fic on Lan Qiren publicly defending Wei Wuxian heheh

~Cloud Recesses is only so big and Lan Qiren can’t avoid Wei Wuxian, even if he is never trying to seek him out. Plus, Wei Wuxian has this way of being in the most inconvenient place at the most inconvenient time.

~We all agree Wei Wuxian is a terrible cook. But, is he a bad cook because he adds too much spice, or he is a bad cook because he’s a bad cook? He did manage to cook congee for the ducklings in Yi Cheng without any fatalities. so I’m inclined to believe the former.

~Lan Qiren definitely thinks Wei Wuxian is a terrible cook, especially after hearing about how Wei Wuxian burned a hole in a pot.

~But Wei Wuxian is Wei Wuxian and even if he can’t be trusted with spices (or anything remotely resembling seasoning), he can make plain congee just fine....after some practice 

~Lan Qiren eats this congee and it’s a perfectly good congee. Ideal thickness, light taste, no spices, slides down the throat smoothly and pairs perfectly with his dried zhacai (pickled mustard; a super common Chinese side dish). He asks who made the congee, expecting it to be Sizhui. He chokes when he is told Wei Wuxian is the cook.

~Lan Qiren knows how to be a good parent in theory. He’s just terrible at putting it to practice.

~Jingyi’s parents, when he was still a terrible toddler wreaking havoc everywhere, went to Lan Qiren for desperate advice like “why is our child such a terrible Lan???”

~But Jingyi isn’t actually Lan Qiren’s kid so he actually gives good advice. “Give him a toy, he’ll tire himself out for his nap,” “Let him crawl around, just cover sharp objects and table corners,” and “give him a crushed peach as a reward for walking across the room”

~But he doesn’t know how to talk to Xichen or Wangji as family. He loves them both dearly – obviously he raised them, but they’re also good nephews!! Questionable taste in men aside, they are excellent nephews! He just doesn’t know how to talk to them outside of official sect business.

~Especially with Wangji, He kind of did declare Wangji’s husband a heretic, a traitor, was extra hard on Wei Wuxian as a student, Wangji for visiting Wei Wuxian. And there’s that whole discipline whip thing.

~Which, to be fair, did end up saving Wangji’s life. Raising his sword against Sect Elders and one’s own family is an act of treason punishable by execution. But Lan Qiren can’t just execute his own nephew….he has a heart, even if no one believes it

~33 discipline lashes from the discipline whip is very harsh and Lan Qiren won’t pretend otherwise. But he could gamble that Wangji’s core is strong enough to pull him through. Because the odds of a living, resentful Wangji is better than a dead Wangji.

~They never talk about this. There are a lot of things they don’t talk about.

~Even before, Lan Qiren isn’t a bad parent. He just has no idea how to put his ideas of parenting into practice. He knows what a good parent looks like, he just doesn’t know how to be one.

~So he hides behind the rules because the rules can’t go that wrong, right? Right???

~Lan Qiren is lowkey jealous of Wei Wuxian for knowing how to be affectionate. He definitely thinks Wei Wuxian is too open with his emotions, but he is envious that Wei Wuxian and Wangji are open to each other in a way that Lan Qiren never established with either nephew. They are loyal in the filial manner of juniors to their elders, but Lan Qiren isn’t exactly close to his nephews. 

~In his ongoing attempt to be a better uncle, he ends up getting advice from Wei Wuxian about emotions.

~It’s not like he can go to anyone else. And, well. That congee was really good.

~Turns out Wei Wuxian can brew the perfect pot of tea, too.

~Offensive. That Wei Wuxian is so competent and the least emotionally repressed person in all of Cloud Recesses.

~Eventually, Lan Qiren begins to understand why Wangji is so attached to Wei Wuxian, even if he still can’t stand to be in the same room as Wei Wuxian for longer than 15 minutes. 

~No matter how much he might no longer hate Wei Wuxian, he prefers their interactions in small doses and spaced out.

~But he does learn to bond with Wei Wuxian over cultivation theory. Annoyingly, Wei Wuxian is just too useful to continue to despise. 

[tuckersgirl]

Possibilities

Summary: You recently joined the Avengers and have started going on missions with them. A mission goes south and it’s your fault. Steve yells at you in front of the team. Bucky comforts you. Sweet, supportive fluffy Bucky. Maybe he’s got a chance at love after all.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: None. This is my first ever story. I am planning to continue it, but I’m not quite sure where I’m going to take it yet. I realize Stark Tower isn’t necessarily the right setting for the current Avengers HQ per the MCU, but I wanted the story to take place in NYC and I made it so.

The engine of the quinjet hummed in the background as Steve’s voice echoed in the hangar. “You could have gotten everyone killed! What were you thinking, Y/N?!”

You just sat there with your head hung low. You knew you’d been stupid. Trying to prove yourself as the newest member of the Avengers. You hadn’t meant for it to go wrong and now the whole mission was a failure because of you. Steve and Bucky had to swoop in to save you and the opportunity to infiltrate one of HYDRA’s safehouses had been lost.

The quinjet touched down on top of Stark Tower and you were the first to exit, walking swiftly down the ramp and straight for the stairs instead of the elevator the team usually took. You couldn’t stomach being in such close quarters with everyone you’d just let down on the ride to your shared living space. You got as far as the second landing before you sunk to the ground in tears.

What is wrong with me? The voice in your head lit into you. What ever make me think I could be on this team? Steve and Bucky were so close to getting killed to save my ass. God, I’m a complete failure. I don’t even deserve to be here after this.

Downstairs, the rest of the team was milling about, grabbing food from the kitchen, and discussing the mission.

“You shouldn’t be so hard on her, Steve. She’s new here,” said Bucky.

“If I’m not hard on her, how is she going to learn?” Steve replied. “New or not, if she’s going to come on these missions, she has everyone’s lives to look out for. We can’t afford for someone to be cavalier.”

“She wasn’t being cavalier. She couldn’t have known that there were 4 more agents around the corner,” Bucky said, defending your decision to pursue the first 2 gunmen you’d encountered.

“She has to think ahead,” Steve countered. “Anticipate all the possibilities and make the right decision in a split second. That’s what being an Avenger means.”

Bucky sighed. He wasn’t going to win this argument. He felt terrible for you. You’d looked utterly miserable in the back of the jet, obviously blaming yourself for your error in judgment – and for what it had cost the team. He went to your room to find you.

Knocking lightly on the door, he waited but there was no answer. He knocked louder, but when you didn’t open, he assumed you were either still too upset to talk or had gone straight to bed. He decided he would check on you in the morning.

__________________________________________________________

You woke with a start. You were still sitting in the stairwell of Stark Tower, leaned up against the wall. You must have fallen asleep after your pity party. The cool of the concrete walls soothed your aching head. Looking at your watch, you saw it was 1:13 a.m. Probably safe to head downstairs now. Everyone should be asleep, or at least have retreated to their rooms for the night.

As you entered the living room you tried to be quiet. Just as you started to creep towards the hallway a voice stopped you in your tracks. “Aren’t you a little old to be sneaking in? I was worried about you.” You sighed in relief. It was Bucky.

“I just needed some time alone to think about things. Had a lot to process.” You were grateful he couldn’t see your red, puffy eyes in the dim light.

“What happened wasn’t your fault,” he stated, standing up and walking over to you.

“I don’t see how it could be anyone else’s fault,” you came back, emotions starting to swirl again. “How could I be so stupid? I messed things up for everyone and almost got you and Steve killed. I shouldn’t be on this team. I obviously can’t do this.” You closed your eyes in frustration.

“We’re fine. And having each other’s backs is what we do around here. Don’t think Steve hasn’t made a bad call a time or two…. or twenty,” Bucky said with a smirk. The corner of your mouth twitched up in a half smile. “He can be tough, but we’ve all been the new kid around here and it takes a while to find your feet,” he continued. “Give yourself some time. You’re going to be great.”

You sigh and turn your eyes down the hallway. Exhaustion from the evening’s events setting in, and all you want is a hot shower and the solace of your bed.

“Sounds like you should get some rest. Things will look better in the morning.” Bucky placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, and you could feel the warmth radiating off him.

“I hope so. It certainly can’t be worse than today.” you sighed. You offer a small smile and turn to make your way down to your room. You feel calmer after talking to Bucky. At least there was one member of the team who didn’t hate you.

You climb into bed and do your best to not rehash the mission over and over in your mind, thinking about your every mistake and its consequence. Eventually your thoughts turn to Bucky and the conversation you had. He had always been reserved since you started on the team. In fact, you weren’t sure you’d ever really talked to him aside from a quick ‘hello’ when you were first introduced. He seemed quiet and even borderline grumpy most of the time. You were surprised by how supportive he had been when you were feeling at your worst. Maybe there was more to the man besides his gruff exterior. These thoughts gently swirled in your head as sleep finally overtook you.

__________________________________________________________

The next morning you wandered out into the kitchen, silently dreading having to face the rest of the team. Everyone was settled and eating when you entered and made a beeline for the coffeepot. No one acted like anything was amiss and continued their morning conversations as you poured yourself a cup. You saw Bucky sitting on a stool at the counter, so you made your way over to him with a cheerful “good morning.”

“Good morning to you,” he chirped back. You saw several team members whip their heads around to stare in disbelief. Bucky was not known for being a morning person, typically refusing to speak to anyone until he’d had at least three cups of strong coffee. “How did you sleep?”

“Better than I expected,” you admitted. He smiled at that and turned back to his plate.

“Y/N,” Steve piped up from the table. “I was thinking we could work on some training today. Try to go over what went wrong and how to fix it.”

“Yeah, that would be great,” you responded. “I obviously have a lot to learn and I want to improve so something like that never happens again.” Steve nodded, a look of respect coming across his face. You were willing to admit your mistakes and try to learn from them. He couldn’t ask for more than that from a new team member.

You changed into your workout clothes and headed down to the gym. Steve reviewed the events of last night with you, so you understood where you went wrong. He then paired you with Natasha to learn how to handle multiple attackers at once so you would be better prepared for next time. She taught you several new moves that you practiced with her. Then, she called Bucky over to add a second opponent into the mix. At first Bucky took you down to the mat easily. He was a lot bigger and stronger than Natasha. She reviewed the moves with you again and showed you how to leverage your new skills to overpower a larger attacker. You try again and, after a few more attempts, manage to land Bucky flat on his back.

“Hey! Nice job!” he smiled, not bothered at all that he was taken down by a much smaller rival.

“Are you sure you didn’t just let me win?” you ask, grinning.

“Nah, doll. I don’t roll over. Even for a pretty lady, such as yourself,” he says with a wink. You’re a bit taken aback at his flirtatious comment. You’ve never seen him like this. He continues smiling, looking relaxed as he gets up off the mat and offers you his hand to pull you up.

“Let’s go grab some water,” he says. You follow him over to the benches and grab your water bottle, taking a swig. “You looked great out there.”

“Thanks, I was feeling really good about the moves Nat was showing me. I have so much to learn!” you acknowledged.

“One step at a time, doll. You’ll get there,” Bucky replied with another wink. You were beginning to enjoy this banter and decided to take it up a notch.

“What if I like to go fast?” you responded with a raised eyebrow. That caught Bucky’s attention.

“Well, if you like to go fast, I think I have something you might like.” He started walking off and tossed a look over his shoulder that told you to follow. You both walked out to the garage where he showed you his motorcycle.

“Awesome!” you exclaimed. You loved bikes but hadn’t been on one in ages.

“Wanna go for a spin?” he asked.

“Definitely,” you replied. And with that, you were on the back of Bucky’s bike with your arms wrapped securely around his waist.

He drove you both to the city’s waterfront and parked his bike so you could get off and walk around. It was nice to get out of the compound for a bit. With all the endless training it often felt like you never left. You strolled along the water for a while side by side, talking and just enjoying the sunshine. He finally slowed and turned to lean against the railing, facing you.

“You know, I’m really glad you came out with me today.”

You smiled up at him. “Yeah, me too. It’s a gorgeous day and the company is pretty great, too.”

“Oh really?” he smirked.

“Don’t get full of yourself, Barnes,” you mocked, rolling your eyes. “I was so desperate to get out of that place I probably would have come with Tony.”

He laughed at the thought. “Well, I’m sure Tony would have shown you a great time, but I’m glad you agreed to come out with me.” His eyes softened as he gazed down at you, his eyes flickering to your lips. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes automatically darted to his mouth in response. He leaned in slowly, giving you a chance to back away. When you didn’t, he closed the gap and softly pressed his lips to yours. You stopped breathing, your heart racing in your chest as you did your best to respond to his kiss and not pass out. As he started to pull away, you chased his lips and nearly lost your balance.

“Shh,” he soothed softly. You nodded, eyes still closed, head swimming from the intensity of the kiss. He took a small step back and smiled down at you again. Your heart warmed and so did your cheeks, so you turned your head to look out over the water. He brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear and let his fingers trail a path down your neck that had you shivering.

“Let’s go, doll.” He led you back to the motorcycle, handed you the extra helmet and you took off again headed back to Stark Tower.

When you entered the living room together, Sam was the first to see you. “And where did you two run off to?”

“Just thought my girl here could use a little time outside of the prison cell,” Bucky charmed.

“Uh huh,” Sam nodded, eyeing you suspiciously. You shrugged with an innocent expression on your face and headed down the hallway to your room.

“So,” Sam started in a low voice, looking at Bucky. “What’s up between you two? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve taken a shine to her.”

“She’s a sweet girl. And she needs someone here to be nice to her. She’s had a rough start,” Bucky shrugged.

“And you’re sure that’s it…?” Sam countered.

“How about you worry about yourself, Sam,” Bucky chuckled as he headed down the hallway leaving Sam to shake his head and laugh. After years of struggling to reclaim his life from HYDRA’s clutches, maybe his friend had finally met someone who could help him open his heart up again.

[old-daemon-farts]

Daemonism Survey

I wanted to see if I could summarize my experience. I know I have long winded thoughts on many of these subjects. Figured others may enjoy reading my answers. Survey found at the bottom.

What is a dæmon to you? The subconscious speaking through inner monologues.

What makes a dæmon, a dæmon? A daemon provides a positive change in their person while also intrinsically being a part of who they are and their identity. You cannot have one without the other. I feel this being needs to be tied to the subconscious (or soul) and will use our inner monologue to communicate.

I am of the belief many different beings can play the role of a daemon. Tulpa, alters, other headmates, and spirits can match these qualifications. "Daemon" has always felt more like a job title or other very personal labels like pronouns or familial titles like "daughter" or "father". I think daemons can stem from too many things and how they connect within the mind to say for sure what is and is not a daemon.

What does dæmonism mean to you? Daemonism is cultivating our inner-self to be a companion who supports us, and in doing so we are learning how to support ourselves.

What is the purpose of dæmonism? To provide a healthy mindset. Can be focused on mental health or cognitive thinking. A healthy mindset for one may be self-improvement; for another it may be companionship and self-compassion; or perhaps they just need someone to help recall information. What daemonism is varies from person to person but to me the base line is you get into daemonism seeking something you feel is going to improve something about your life.

What is/are your dæmon(s) like? What is your dæmon's personality like? What are their likes and dislikes? This is the space for anything you want to share about how your dæmon behaves, thinks and feels! Thats a lot to put. So I will place what may make them different from other daemons. They are very self-focused on me. No matter their personality its always focused around what is best for me. What needs to be done for me. Their world revolves around me and they do not question nor hate it.

How did you meet your dæmon(s)? Inspired by His Dark Materials. Finished the 3rd book, tried to see my daemon, he laughed and the rest is history. I thought we were the only human/daemon pair at the time.

What is/are your dæmon(s)? Dæmons can be many things; a gateway to the subconscious, a personification of your conscience, the other half of your internal dialogue, a spiritual entity, or many other things besides. What is the nature of your dæmon? They are me. They are how I connect to my inner self/subconscious. At the moment they are a gateway rather than the full personification of my subconscious. Please see the answer for "how they are connected to me" for more examples.

What is/are your dæmon's gender(s), and how do they relate to and differ from your own? Mostly female. I use to think my daemons gender was my opposite, then I though I was the outcome of their genders, then I thought their gender supported my own. Now I think it just is another outcome of what my brain needed to be happy and healthy, and while my daemons genders never change future daemons may be influenced by the same factors.

How autonomous is/are your dæmon(s)? How independent and free-thinking is your dæmon; how much do they rely on you in order to exist and function? Autonomy is an illusion. Myself and my daemons will always be influenced by my subconscious and factors surrounding us. Their identities rely on my focus but who they are at the core and how they function is thoughtless. I can personify my heart and it can grow independent but as soon as I stop talking to my heart it doesn't stop beating. It just returns to what it was prior and continues its constant task of keeping the body going without needing any thought on the matter.

How is/are your dæmon(s) connected to you? Subconscious, inner monologues, and even intrusive thoughts. Anima/animus. ID/Ego/Super Ego/ Shadow, split-brain ... Basically if there is a term for connecting with any inner part of yourself or piece of our mind my daemons encompass or build upon that.

How do your dæmon(s) differ from you? They are very goal oriented and driven involving my life and health.

What are the similarities between you and your dæmon(s)? They reflect key parts of myself (good, bad, and desired). We all like and dislike similar things, look for similar things in life and friendship, share taste in fashion, food, and entertainment. Only time things vary are when my daemons reflect an extreme. Like Tess who loves physical activity. I'm not a fan of exercise or sports but I wish I was and so does my body and mind. So her favorite activities are not mine by choice but I know on a subconscious level I need to enjoy these more. There is always a connection so there will always be similarities.

How have your dæmon(s) changed since you first met them? They have changed as much as myself, as they grow the very same as I do effected by my surroundings and experiences. Cayde started just as childlike as myself and grew into an adult. My more recent daemons started based around emotions or specific traits and then grew to be far more complex. This is the nature of living, remaining static is nearly impossible.

Can your dæmon(s) front? Fronting: taking primary control of the physical body. I believe with practice they can but since they have very strong opinions about fronting will refrain from doing so. We have co-fronted to allow my daemon to speak louder and to use "mind-over-matter" to stop pain. But during co-fronting there is no physical control. It is only causing a shift in where my daemon lies on my consciousness.

What are your dæmon form(s)? They have many. Both animal and human.

What do your dæmon form(s) mean to you? Some represent who I am on a subconscious level, a deeply analyzed level, and a more surface level.

How did you find your dæmon form(s)? Some through created systems, others through daemon's choice, and one picked completely out of my or my daemon's control.

What do your dæmon form(s) say about your personality, if anything? One describes my behavior and how I interact with others. The other portrays how I am seen and my narrative in life.

How does your dæmon feel about their form(s)? They love all of them and the more meaning behind a form the prouder they are taking it.

What does it mean for a dæmon's form to be settled? Represents who I (or they) are for a set moment in time. Finding and being content with who we are and our identity.

What kind of forms has your dæmon taken in the past? A variety, mostly animals.

How did your dæmon(s) get their name(s)? Chosen together or they picked one they liked.

What do your dæmon(s) names mean to you? Not much. One of my daemons shares my name which is pretty cool but there is little meaning behind everyone's name.

Has your dæmon's name ever changed? If so, feel free to elaborate! Yes! My first daemon has gone through 3 name changed. First one didn't fit right, second lasted years but he got tired of seeing other people with it, so now he's on his third.

How did you first learn about dæmonism? I learned about daemons through His Dark Materials and daemonism through The Daemon Page.

What motivated you to try dæmonism? Loved the companionship daemons gave in the books

Has your experience of dæmonism changed since you first discovered it? If so, how? I take it far more seriously now as a tool for mental health and self-awareness. I just wanted a unique friend that was a talking animal in the beginning.  

How do your dæmon(s) affect and influence your everyday life? Hm, its so hard to say after living over half my life with one. But I'd say they influence my day just by helping me process everything?

How has dæmonism helped you? My daemons have taught me self-love, self-worth, pride, and acceptance.

What does the dæmian community mean to you? They are my home. Sometimes you leave home, and sometimes family upsets you, but you still feel drawn back no matter where you wander. The community is a family I have chosen and I will always feel a part of.

The survey this came from can be found here “ Daemon Survey “. If you are interested in sharing your thoughts please consider completing it, I know the creator would greatly appreciate it.

[solangelover]

hi can u write one in which they both work at a coffee shop? can it end with the starting of solangelo

A/N: Sorry it took me a bit, I had it written for a while but never had time to post it!

Read on AO3 or FF.Net

“Nico, you’re training the new guy.”

Jason dropped that bomb on Nico the moment he walked through the back door of the cafe. At six in the morning. The audacity.

Nico only had the energy to blink back at his friend, his brain pretty much dead since he didn’t even put his stuff down yet, let alone make himself a cup of extra strong coffee. But, even with his slow processing speeds at this hour, he fully registered and resented what Jason just told him.

Apparently, his upset blinking got through to Jason, because he immediately put his hands up in a placating gesture. “Don’t shoot the messenger! Reyna told me to have you do it this time because—“

“Because she hates me,” Nico finished, brushing past the blonde to put his stuff in his cubby.

“No, because he wants to make coffee and you do it best! If he wanted to make sandwiches, then I’d train him.” Jason followed Nico as he spoke, his voice taking on a more logical tone.

“He’s new, shouldn’t he start with cleaning counters and washing dishes,” Nico stated in a flat voice.

“You know that’s not how it works here.” Nico could hear the eye roll without even looking at him.

“Whatever. Just do your opening tasks, I can’t deal with your voice at this time.” He didn’t usually open for the cafe, avoiding those shifts like the plague, but he had to take them every once in a while. He couldn’t bring himself to do a bad job either, especially since he knew the manager personally and Reyna would just give him more opening shifts to get back at him anyway. She’s merciless like that.

“You wound me,” Jason raised a hand to his chest in mock offense. “But seriously, you have to train him. He seems nice—“

“Yeah yeah,” he dismissed, walking down the short hallway to the front area. “When does he start?”

“Well—“ Jason started, but he cut himself off the moment Nico stepped out into the counter area. Because at that moment, a different blonde appeared, even brighter and happier than Jason at six in the morning. In Nico’s opinion, he seemed more energetic than anyone should be at six in the morning.

“Hi there!” The bouncy blonde replied, a wide smile splitting his face. “I’m Will! The new guy. I’m really excited to be working with you!” He was addressing Nico directly, presumably having met Jason already.

Nico wasn’t sure what his face, or general demeanor, looked like in that moment, but he was sure it wasn’t a good look. He was tired because, again, it was a little after six in the morning; disgruntled at having to train someone; thrown off since he didn’t know the new hire was here already; and he still hadn’t had his coffee. Distantly, Nico may have registered that the boy in front of him was cute, objectively. However, while a cute boy may usually reduce him to a blushy, awkward mess, his brain simply wasn’t ready to process emotions.

So, he stared at the new guy for approximately five seconds after he spoke, probably looking like he hated his life. Then, he said, “Make me coffee, freckles,” because he was great at first impressions.

“Oh! Uh,” the new guy, Will, flushed instantly, which made his freckles stand out more. “I, um, don’t know how?”

Nico clicked his tongue, moving around the boy to get to the espresso machine. “Well, I guess you better learn by the time we open.” Nico glanced back over his shoulder at Jason, who had been silently observing the interaction. By his facial expression, it looked like he couldn’t decide if he was surprised or amused. “Jason, you do all the other opening things. I’m busy.”

Like a good friend, Jason simply rolled his eyes and sighed. Nico caught a glimpse of Jason saying something quietly to Will, but he couldn’t be bothered to care about that. If he didn’t have a steaming cup of his glorious bean juice in his hand soon, he was going to walk out of the cafe and never look back.

Yes, he got dramatic when he was tired and grumpy, what about it?

—

“Now, repeat the process and tell me what you’re doing as you go.”

Nico sipped his coffee as he watched Will nervously make a shot of espresso. If he got this on the first try, Nico was prepared to be smug about his teaching skills to Jason.

“Okay, so... pack in the coffee like this. Then lock it into place here.” Will tugged on the handle to make sure it was secure. He then placed two tiny espresso pitchers under the spouts before hitting the “two shots” button.

He held is hands out as he watched the machine work. “I think I did it?” he asked uncertainly.

Nico hid his smile behind his mug as he replied, “Looks like it.”

Will turned away from the espresso being poured out to beam at Nico, who quickly averted his eyes. As he slowly woke up more, his brain finally processed how cute the new guy was, which was a completely unhelpful observation when Nico already knew he’d be spending the whole shift with him. It’s like his brain wanted him to do something stupid around the cute blonde with a peppy attitude and bright smile.

Nico shook his head in an attempt to dislodge his train of thought while Will attended to his espresso shots.

“I did it!” The boy exclaimed, holding up the pitchers in victory. “You’re a pretty good teacher, Nico.”

Nico almost smiled, shifting it into a smirk at the last second. “Be sure to tell that to Jason. He would never believe me.”

He turned away to move on to the next task, missing the blush that spread across Will’s cheeks.

—

Nico taught him only a few more coffee things before the shop opened, though it was mostly pointing out where things were and what flavors they had available. Working with the espresso machine was the most complicated thing.

“Okay, Will, I know you wanted to make coffee, but for today, I’m going to have you work the register. We can practice more during the slow times.” Nico busied himself with cleaning up the counter and setting up his station.

He turned to find Will watching him, to which he raised an eyebrow. The blonde made an aborted noise of surprise, quickly blurting out an “okay!” His face turned slightly pink, but Nico decided not to say anything.

He cleared his throat and moved over to Will’s side, turning him around to face the front. “Have you worked a register before?” Will shook his head, so Nico continued. “It’s pretty simple. Just punch in the item here. The charge will show here. And then the cash drawer will pop out, but most people use card so just push it back in.”

Will’s eyebrows were drawn together in concentration, his eyes darting around the register as he committed it all to memory. Nico didn’t think it was endearing in the slightest.

“I think I got it,” Will said, looking over to Nico with a confident smile.

“Good,” Nico nodded. “Now, I’m guessing you have amazing customer service skills?”

Will blushed again as he rubbed his neck bashfully. “Um, I mean, maybe? I’ve never had a customer service job before.” He then tilted his head in confusion at Nico. “Why do you think I’d be good at it?”

Nico’s brain felt very slow in this moment, even with a cup of coffee in his system. He couldn’t admit to anything he was thinking about Will, but he didn’t want to be completely lame and just say it was a hunch. What if he actually needed the confidence boost? There was also this hopeful look in his soft blue eyes that Nico couldn’t help but give into, just a little.

“Uhh... you just... seem like a happy person?” He mentally facepalmed. “I mean—like, you’re easy to talk to, and stuff. So, you’d probably find it easy to talk with customers. And you’ve got the whole ‘embodiment of sunshine’ thing going on.” He gestured vaguely with his hands, generally avoiding eye contact with Will. “So, yeah,” he finished his ramble. He could feel his cheeks burning. Curse his body for being able to blush so easily.

When Nico peeked up at Will from behind his hair, he found the other boy grinning from ear to ear, a faint blush making his freckles practically glow. “‘Embodiment of sunshine’?” he echoed.

Nico bumped him with his hip to shove him away. “If it’s not on purpose, then that only further proves my point.”

Then Will laughed, a high and bright thing that somehow felt like it lifted the atmosphere up to the clouds and beyond. It was weird, because it was just a laugh from a boy he didn’t know at all. But he felt something starting, a spark, a warm glow, a thing that he wanted to discover and hold on to.

So Nico got a little poetic when he thought about love in a coffee shop, what of it?

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.18}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

The way back to the castle was quick and they arrived just in time for dinner, but still made their ways into the great hall separately like they usually did. All the way, Robin couldn't help smiling to herself, not even as she sat down with her friends, who resided at the Slytherin table today. 

It took them two seconds to notice her unusually good mood and another to comment on it, but Robin just explained that she'd had a nice day in Hogsmeade and an enjoyable walk back. Jorien snorted in return, Cas frowned, and Simon did both at once, while Michael and Gideon simply didn't know Robin well enough to be aware of the fact that she hated shopping, and designated Hogsmeade days even more. Jorien was quick to explain that fact to them however, and Robin just shrugged it off with another smile. She did add then that she'd mostly enjoyed intimidating a shop owner to accept her terms of a bargain –she did not give details on either though– and her friends finally agreed that this already sounded a whole lot more like the Robin they knew.

Dinner was mostly amicable chatter and talk about tomorrow's tutoring then, as well as a ridiculously serious discussion between Jorien and Gideon about an incident they'd all heard of somehow –involving two sixth years, a dark hallway past curfew, some certain body parts and an enlargement charm– which resulted in second-hand embarrassment for Robin, Michael and Simon, and a giggling fit for Cas. Honestly, Jorien was all facts and no emotion sometimes, Cas just didn't possess a sense of shame, and Gideon obviously went to great lengths to win an argument, no matter how ridiculous it was. The other three just had to bear it out. Robin cringed at the mental images the discussion was giving her, but on the other hand she found it entertaining to see Jorien winning the argument with such an ease. It made her feel proud of the girl, if nothing else.

Finally when dinner was over and the group once again among the last to leave, the boys decided that they would tag along for tutoring in the morning, mainly for the sake of getting help with a charms and herbology assignment on Simon's and Michael's end respectively. Robin absolutely didn't mind going over some NEWT topics as well if they wanted her to, and while she immediately placed the disclaimer that she was only a year ahead and might not even be of any actual help to them at all, the five people in front of her simply laughed at that statement. Obviously neither of them believed her to be 'just a year ahead' for real, and while she felt very much flattered by their confidence in her, she also wasn't quite sure if she would actually be able to meet their ridiculously high expectations. Oh well… an issue for another day.

From there, the girls made their way down to the dungeons like every night, with Robin coming along for half of the way, and upon their usual question about her plans for the evening, she told them that Snape and her were in the process of experimenting with some new substances and she thus couldn't say when she would be returning to her dorm. A beautiful way to shape the truth, she thought, and the girls did as they ought to by shrugging it off as another ordinary night of her work. They did her the favour of taking her winter robes back to their room though, when Robin bid them goodnight and went ahead to let herself into the office.

"Don't get settled, we aren't staying." Snape said the moment she closed the door behind herself, and the smirk was back on her lips in no time, but it was dimmed down again when she saw the annoyed frown on his face that accompanied the statement.

"What's the matter? Change in whatever plans you made?"

"Indeed." He grumbled, picking up a stack of notebooks, and then ushered her straight back out into the hallway, where he followed before locking the door to the office. "Poppy is out of calming draught and pepperup potion, and she believes it to be of vital importance to stock up on both tonight. Idiotic, if they would ask me, but unfortunately no one ever does. So lab work it is."

Robin only groaned under her breath and rolled her eyes while her feet carried her towards the lab on autopilot already, with Snape following right behind her. So much for excitement… making both potions and having them ready for delivery would take hours! But it was their job after all. Actually, it was his job and she just couldn't be bothered to stop doing it together with him.

"I hope she at least knows that she owes you for making us do this on a bloody Saturday night." Robin sighed when she finally dropped her backpack in its usual corner in the lab, then pulled her wand out of her sleeve, put her hair up into a messy knot, and finally rolled up her sleeves all in the usual practiced movements. When her eyes lifted from her arms up to Snape however, to see why he wasn't answering, she found him still standing with his back to the closed door, observing her in rapt serenity. The sight sent a pleasant shiver down her spine, but she refused to let it distract her from the task at hand as she moved towards the tables to set up for the impending work. "If you just keep standing there like a pillar of salt we'll never get this done, you know… And I was actually kinda hoping we would get to continue with whatever plans you've made once we're done here."

"We certainly will." He finally replied as he snapped out of his freeze, lips curling into a not-smirk while he mirrored her actions and rolled up his sleeves as well. He had started doing that more often ever since summer, whenever they had practical work to do in the safe solitude of the lab, and Robin felt a certain pride in the knowledge that he was comfortable enough around her by now to do so. Now was no different, and she smiled to herself as she was about to get started.

"Which one would you like me to make?" She asked while he was still setting up next to her. "Any preference?"

"Your pick."

"Again? You're being suspiciously gracious today, and I'm not sure if I want to know why… I'm not dying again, am I?" She sent him a small smirk, but went straight on. "I'll do the calming draught then. Pepperup always makes me sneeze like crazy."

"I know. It is ironic, really."

"Very funny, yes, absolutely hilarious." She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, but smiled nonetheless as she got started picking out the ingredients. For these kinds of potions, the infirmary's stock and all the ones taught in class, she had long passed the point of needing instructions at all.

The brewing was a running routine by now, and even if Robin had been hoping for a different pastime for tonight, she still found herself enjoying the work as always. It wasn't the most interesting thing to make standard type potions, admittedly, but just working in the lab together with Snape never failed to be a delight in its own right. Before long they were at the point of simply having to wait while the potions simmered quietly in their cauldrons, and while Robin went to write the labels, Snape started grading the notebooks he had brought. Occasionally he grumbled to himself about whatever idiotic thing some student had written in their essay this time, and Robin always found herself amused by his annoyance. There was little else to do than listening to his remarks after all, seeing as writing labels was a repetitive process she might as well have charmed her quill to do by itself. But then she would be left without anything to do at all, and that wouldn't be an improvement either. Thus she just dipped her quill into the inkwell once more with a silent sigh, when suddenly the comfortable calm of the lab was disturbed by a harsh and repeated knocking on the door. That almost never happened.

Robin jumped a little, but stayed sitting on her stool while Snape grumbled to himself again and went to snap at whoever was bothering them with tangible annoyance radiating off him in an invisible cloud. The very second Robin lifted her gaze from the labels to him however, by chance more than intentionally, something in her mind clicked together at the sight of him almost having reached the door. Without a second thought she dropped the quill and bolted, barely still barging in between Snape and the door before he could open it. Her momentum had her back crashing against the wood in a loud rattle, and she found herself once again standing chest to chest with him, trying to catch her breath as she looked up with wide eyes. His scowl had disappeared entirely, only to be replaced by genuinely shocked surprise. Bloody hell, his face was so close to her own… not even a breath away now. A second passed in silence, and her eyes flickered down to his lips ever so briefly, but she just couldn't help it. Her heart skipped a beat, adrenaline running through her veins like sweetest poison, and she finally remembered why she had brought herself into this situation in the first place.

He still looked like a deer in the headlights when Robin wrapped a reluctant hand around his forearm, then dropped her gaze down to the minimal space between them entirely as she carefully rolled his sleeves down again. It took him a few seconds to catch on to her gesture, but then he helped her by closing a few of the buttons at least before repeating the process on the other side himself at a much faster pace. The entire moment didn't last longer than a few seconds, even though it seemed to span enteritis in Robin's mind, and once the task was accomplished, Snape took a step backwards for Robin to move away from the door to allow him to open up at last.

Bloody hell… Robin's heart was still jumping out of her chest, and her insides had liquified entirely as she went to sit back down on her stool. That had been a very close call on two ends, and she took deep breaths to regain some composure at least while resting her forearms on the tabletop. The area where she had dropped the quill was covered in tiny black speckles, as were her forearms, but for some miraculous reason the labels had been spared at least. Good… things were good. Slowly her heartbeat calmed down to a normal pace again, and her brain started working like it ought to as well. When she finally was in a place of mind to pay attention to what was happening at the door, it was thrown shut already though, and Snape returned to his place next to her at the table in silence.

"What was that about?" She asked as calmly as she could, studying how the frown stayed on his face even as he was sitting down next to her again.

"Nothing of importance." He answered quickly, but then sighed as he seemed to think better of it. They were past the point of only sharing important things with each other… long past it, actually. "Pomona informed me that she would like to keep a small group of fifth years in the greenhouse after curfew tomorrow evening and I gave my approval."

"Ah." Robin replied under her breath, but didn't know what else to say on the issue and thus merely let her gaze drop to the labels again, without picking up the quill though. For a few seconds it was quiet, but she could tell by the tension surrounding them that he wanted to say something, and she would give him all the time he needed to do so. Pushing him never worked in her favour anyway, but giving him space usually did.

"Thank you. For keeping an eye on me." He finally started, in a calm tone now but still with a frown on his face. "Such carelessness on my part has never happened before, and it certainly will not be happening again."

"You were caught up in your thoughts, that happens to everyone at some point. It's not worth being upset over now. And of course I'm keeping an eye on you! It's what we always do, both of us. You know that." She returned a soft smile, reassuring and calm and affectionate in that way that was only reserved for him. "I'm just sorry I jumped at you like a maniac."

It took a few seconds, but then his frown loosened up slowly and the not-smirk returned to his lips. "I didn't mind that, actually."

Robin's smile turned into a smirk as well, and then she just had to laugh. "Of course you didn't… You're insufferable, you know?"

"That would be my line."

"Well, I'm stealing it now. We're both insufferable, that's just the way things are." She said with a nonchalant shrug, turning back to pick up her quill and write her labels with a lingering smirk now, and out of the corners of her eyes, she could see that the same expression was gracing his features as well, as he went to continue grading the essays.

They finished their work in the usual calm contentment, first the grading and the labels –while occasional mocking some dunderhead students– before finally bottling the finished potions. It was shortly before midnight when they were done at last, when the bottles were neatly boxed up to be delivered. They spontaneously decided that Robin would be the one to take them to the infirmary, while Snape wanted to clean up the lab and return the notebooks to the office. Moments later she was as good as gone, carefully balancing four smaller cardboard boxes in her arms as she quickly made her way through the dark castle and towards the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was delighted as always when Robin staggered through the heavy doors in an attempt not to drop everything, and whispered many thanks while helping her sort the boxes into the storage shelves. Robin took note of the fact that by now the entire stock had her handwriting on it indeed, and it probably had been that way for a while. She smiled at the realisation, not without a certain sense of pride, and after bidding the matron goodnight, she was leaving again already.

On her way back down to the dungeons though, Robin almost ran into Morgan, who obviously was assigned to patrol the castle tonight. She was just rounding a corner when he suddenly stood right in front of her, but he was luckily looking into the other direction, which gave her enough time to jump back around the corner and hide away in one of the darkest alcoves. Thank heaven or hell for her by now decent ability to move silently, which she had somehow made a habit of practicing ever since she started spending every night in the lab or the office. Over the years she had gotten quite good at it, not as good as Snape obviously, but good enough for Morgan to walk past her now without having noticed her presence. Thank God… Only once she couldn't hear his doorstep anymore, she finally dared to move out of her alcove and continue her way down to the dungeons almost in a run. She really wasn't up for another nightly encounter with Morgan, especially not if he was actually patrolling the castle tonight. She would just have to be careful, and keep an eye on her surroundings.

And yet, just when she hasted along the last hallway in the dungeons before finally being back at the office, she made the mistake of looking back over her shoulder when rounding the last corner and promptly ran into the familiar wall of black. It had been a while since that had last happened, and this time, instead of letting her tumble down to the floor in her immediate loss of balance, his arm was around her waist in an instant, keeping her upright and securely on her feet. At first Robin let out a startled yelp, but after the second it took her brain to register that she knew that arm around her as well as the scent that was overwhelming her senses now, she didn't even need to look at Snape for her body to relax already.

"Didn't we say we would meet at the office?" She finally asked, barely above a whisper but with a smile in relief and a scowl in feigned complaint nonetheless. His arm disappeared from around her, unfortunately, and he took a step backwards to inspect her with a curious frown.

"We did, but you were taking longer than expected, which usually means that either something or someone has happened to you. I merely wanted to see if you were alright." He said in a quiet tone, glancing down the dark hallway that stretched into blackness behind Robin.

"I'm good… but only barely." She sighed, and his eyes found hers again within a second. "I almost ran into Morgan, he's patrolling tonight. Had to hide for a while until he was gone."

"That would explain the delay. I take it then that he didn't see you?"

"No, he walked right past me. But knowing him, that might just have been part of his game. So I was somewhere between panicking and in a haste to get back here."

"Understandable. Let's see to it that we stay out of his way." He said, then the subtle not-smirk returned to his lips. "We still have plans for tonight after all, and I don't want him, or anyone else for that matter, to interrupt those yet again."

Robin's heart skipped a beat upon his words, and once again the anxiety was making way for suspense and excitement. But at the same time, the spark of amusement in his eyes made her smirk in return. "Since you refuse to tell me what we will be doing, you'll have to lead the way. If you don't wanna stand in the hallway all night, that is."

With an exaggerated eye rolling but the same not-smirk, he motioned for her to come along, stopping again a few more steps down the path to retrieve Robin's backpack from the office first, but much to her surprise they then continued on to make their way through the dark hallways until at last they arrived in front of his rooms. Her heart skipped yet another beat, and she tried not to grin like an idiot while he unlocked the door and then let her go in first. This was an interesting development of things… one she certainly didn't mind in the least. She'd been wondering ever since Thursday night when she would get to come back here, but she honestly hadn't expected that moment to arrive so soon. With the biggest smile on her face she dropped down on the sofa and watched him light up the fireplace before taking off his robes and coat and neatly folding both pieces over a chair. It left him in that linen shirt he had also been wearing on Thursday night when she'd come here unannounced, and when he went to roll up the sleeves of that now again, Robin couldn't help but watch in amazement. At some point that gesture had become ridiculously attractive, just like the whole act of him taking off the many layers of black, and she didn't know if it was the gesture itself that had her marvelling or the level of comfort it represented. Both, probably. Her heart was soaring either way.

"You sit there like you have been summoned to the headmaster's office." He finally said, in a taunting voice, while moving about in search of something. "You've never been shy in a space of mine before, so just get comfortable already, will you?"

"If you insist." She chuckled, and toed off her boots first before crossing her legs on the sofa, when suddenly an idea struck her that made her smirk again. Placing her bag in her lap, she first dug out the bottle of firewhisky and set it down next to her, then went to dig deeper. So deep, in fact, that she finally had to stick her head in too, to find what she was looking for. The sofa next to her dipped down, she heard glass rattling, and finally her hand touched what she was looking for. With a victorious smile, she pulled out one item after the other, and set them all down on the ground beneath her before finally surfacing out of the bag again and putting it aside. She was met with Snape's undoubtedly humoured and slightly defeated expression.

"Of course you have a record player in your bag… Why am I even surprised at this point." He sighed to himself, while Robin went to kneel down on the floor to set the whole thing up.

"You like Queen, don't you?" She grinned up at him, but picked out the according record anyway, without waiting for an answer. Half a minute later the music started floating around them at a moderate volume, even though Robin was rather sure that there were multiple silencing charms placed on the room. Still didn't mean it was necessary that they'd have to shout over the music to talk. Then she moved the entire setup to the nearest wall, thus out of the way, and finally sat down on the sofa again, with her legs crossed like before. "There, now you've got proof that I'm comfortable enough to seize the silence. Better now?"

"Indeed." He nodded, while handing Robin an empty glass. "Even though half of the school would likely consider it a sacrilege to play muggle music inside the castle."

"Oh come on, you can't honestly tell me that they wrote their music without the help of magic!" She grinned in return and traced the edges of the glass with her fingertips. "Besides, I don't remotely care about anyone's opinion on my taste in music. Well, actually I do care about your opinion on mostly everything… Do you mind muggle music?"

"No. I only mind bad music."

"See! Can't argue with good taste." Robin shrugged with a smirk. "Talking about taste, what's with the empty glass?"

"I thought we would continue our experiments from earlier today." The smirk was on his face in an instant, fully mirroring hers for once, even if with a touch more mischief to it. "I have a few more liquors I would like you to try. If by the end of it you still choose to go with firewhisky, I won't lose another word of complaint."

"Alright, sounds fair enough. But you gotta try them with me, yes?"

He held up his own glass while quirking an eyebrow at her in reply, then summoned the first bottle from one of the shelves. Robin couldn't help grinning to herself, then down at her glass. This was going to be a very interesting night, no matter what happened from here on, that much at least was for sure. And quite honestly, she already couldn't wait for whatever was to come.

______________________________

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[koshicoast]

Randomly thought of but MHA except Bakugou’s hatred for Deku isnt because he’s quirkless. Bakugou doesn’t hate or is prejudice towards quirkless people, he hates weak people

AU where Bakugou is still somewhat the same as in canon but his feelings and thoughts come from a different mindset

Growing up his parents taught him that a quirk doesn’t make a person stronger, the person makes a quirk strong

This leads him to train in not only with his quirk but also in various areas that could potentially come up during hero work (lock picking, reading body language, shit like that) bc if he’s weak then so is his quirk

If you’re wondering how a child is learning all of this, this is Bakugou-fucking-Katsuki. If he wants something, he’s gonna get it even if it means he has to go through hell.

Luckily in this AU, his parents aren’t neglectful or shitty!! they indulged in his whims more of them than not!!

They’re both famous fashion designers and have a lot of connections when it comes to ‘high end society’ so if katsuki wants to learn how to dress to kill or something like that, they already have it set up for him!

The Bakugou’s teach their little victory all of their tricks and tips about how to theoretically make clothes that have extra space for weapons (they know his desire to be a hero and while they’re a little worried they’re just happy he’s being prepared for the long run.) They don’t actually make clothes for him to hide weapons, they verbally tell him how to do something and tips but they leave it up to him to complete the task to a proficient level

They also let their coworkers teach Bakugou stuff, anything their kid would find important or somewhat interesting (taking pictures is boring but learning how to take clear pictures of a loving target is interesting)

Many models, photographers and people who know the Bakugous have basically adopted Katsuki as their feral child since many of them are unable to have their own kids due to their work

Now, Bakugou has learned things about body language (how to read it), how to fake his confidence, sewing, stitching, how to dress for any situation, etc from his parents and their coworkers

However while those skills are important for him (he has a plan to be the best and he can’t be the best if he’s lacking in skills) he needs to know how to fight hand to hand without a quirk or how to pick locks or how to pickpocket (who knows, maybe he’ll have to steal something from a villain!!)

He doesn’t tell his parents what his specific plans are but he does tell him he’s gonna do training on his own

Now normal parents would be worried but for the sake of the AU let’s just say that katsuki’s parents work on the mentality that ‘their child is strong and even if he gets knocked down, he’ll be right back up. He’s a Bakugou.’

Bakugou’s never give up, it’s not in their blood to give up.

So, Bakugou, feral child, goes off on his own to experience a real fight with people who won’t care if they hurt him or to find someone to teach him how to pick a lock or pickpocket

Most of the adults he’s met are just amused by this kid so they too indulge him and his demands

Especially those who spar with him, Bakugou has made it clear that if he feels like they’re holding back he’ll make it so they can’t afford to anymore

(Yes this isn’t always a good thing but what matters is that he’s survived and somewhat friends with a bunch of shady people)

(They’ll tell you that they’re friends, Bakugou thinks that they’re worthy opponents)

Now this leads me to his relationship with deku

Originally he didn’t actually hate Deku when it’s announced that he’s quirkless, why would he? The nerd just has to get strong and it’ll be fine!

Deku isnt weak because he doesn’t have a quirk just like how Bakugou isn’t strong just because he has a quirk

That mentality lasts for 3 seconds

he starts to hate how the green boy lets that determine his future of being a hero or not

Deku being quirkless isn’t a problem. Deku allowing himself to be weak because he’s quirkless is a problem.

He just gets so frustrated with deku that he eventually just pulls away. He doesn’t want to hang out with someone who doesn’t work towards a goal, blood, sweat, tears and all that.

Deku wanting to be a hero is funny to Bakugou because deku is weak, the nerd let’s people step all over him especially Bakugou

To Bakugou, if deku just stood up for himself for once then he’d respect him

For obvious reasons, Midoriya does not know this and everyone including him assumes Bakugou just hates him because he’s quirkless

(The only exceptions is Bakugou’s parents because they have the same mindset and Inko because her and Mitski are best friends so she’s more than aware of their thought process)

For reasons, Bakugou’s ‘bullying’ is more like taunts and if he does use his quirk he never directly harms Midoriya (he just wants to push the kid to act not kill him) this also means he never tells deku to kill himself

Midoriya firmly believes Bakugou hates him and acts more or less the same as he does in canon

However he doesn’t see how the blonde will text inko to let her know when Midoriya is having a really bad day or how Bakugou wards off students who want to seriously harm him

Is this an excuse to write about Bakugou acting as a ‘reluctant older sibling who just wants the best for the younger but doesn’t know how to verbalize it so their actions come off as bullying or the likes’ and Midoriya being the ‘younger sibling who is terrified of their older sibling but still admires them greatly yet will never say that out loud because they’re convinced said older sibling hates them’? Maybe

Needless to say, this leads to an interesting conversation when the topic of quirkless people comes up during class

Bakugou scowls as he feels his classmates’ stares burn into his skull. He turns around with sneer, his palms popping. “What?” He manages to ask through gritted teeth. All without blowing up too.

His dad is gonna be so proud.

“W-well..” Shitty hair stammers, looking uncomfortable as he shifts in his chair. (The only reason why he doesn’t immediately get blown up is because Bakugou likes him. He’s man enough to admit he’s got a crush but like hell is he gonna do anything about. What he’s not gonna do though? Blow up said crush.)

“Y’know how you are!” Dunce Face blurts out, Tape Face elbowing his stomach harshly as Pinky hisses a not so quiet ‘not cool dude!’ . Now the others are exchanging shifty glances and from how reluctant they are to meet his eyes, he already has a good idea what this is about.

“Yeah yknow we’re just

“Yeah?” His eyes narrow with disdain as his ugly scowl softens into a calculating frown and he tilts his head just slightly. His arms crossed across his chest while he forces his body to relax. It takes just a few seconds but his aura changes from the ‘typical bad boy delinquent’ vibe he usually has going on and turns into something much more. It works wonders and he has a brief flashback from a conversation he had as a kid.

“You want to be intimadating? Don’t shout, don’t fire off your explosions, don’t give any reaction. Be cold, be caculating. Be dangerous little one. Being quiet is the most dangerous one can get.”

He has the electric blonde pinned under his look and faintly he can hear a ‘oh shit’ from a few seats away. He knows what he looks like, practiced the fuck out of this particular stare that a Russian model taught him all those years ago when he went on a fashion trip with his parents.

“I’ll teach you how to be scary little firecracker. Make us proud, you’re our little victory.”

Models, he muses privately as he watches the boy sweat bullets, are as dangerous as they are pretty. It takes a few moments of tense silence before someone eventually breaks and unsurprisingly it’s fucking half-n-half. He doesn’t have a real issue with daddy issues but he’s got a bone to pick with the tea kettle lover after the whole incident at the sports festival. The thought of fighting him is enough to get his blood going.

“They thought you’d hate quirkless people.” Hot Water fucker says, face void of any emotion and voice monotone. Ever since being friends with the nerd, IcyHot has gotten a lot better at speaking up when normally he’d just ignore everything. (Now if only shitty deku could pound some emotion that’d be great.)

Even though he’d expect it, he can’t help but laugh.“Why would I hate quirkless people?” He questions, raising a perfect brow. He drops his arms, an elbow perched up on Midoriya’s desk as his cheek rests on his open palm. He watches them falter, hesitation in their eyes. He decides to add fuel to fire, “One of my favorite people in this world is quirkless. She works for my parents as a secretary, I visit her every time I go.”

He doesn’t bother to listen to the responses, snapping his head and making direct eye contact with the nerd. “I hate people who have potential but let others tell them where they belong. It’s pathetic and sad. They should go get some fucking dignity, you think having a quirk is any better than not having one? It’s like having an arm, it’s the norm but if you don’t got it doesn’t mean you’re broken.” His words come out even despite the frustration building under his skin, he sees how Deku’s eyes widen in some kind of realization so he forces himself to pull his gaze away before landing onto Pony Tail. He doesn’t have an issue with her and actually likes her a lot better than the others but her confidence is so low it offends him, especially since he sees her as an opponent. Her eyes grow big and he can tell she’s nervous but before he can change his mind, his mouth opens. Oops.

The idiots practically brought this upon themselves. Reap what you sow dumbasses.

He just goes off and everyone is just stunned because they had this idea of him but that completely crumbled as soon as he started to reveal some of his thoughts and opinions

(Kirishima always kinda knew Bakugou was like this just bc I say so)

I know where this was going but now I do not lmao

Anyways he said his peace and it’s all quiet as people take in what he said and Ofc mineta decides to say something

“I don’t wanna hear that from a villain!” The diaper baby shrieks loudly, the grape fucker’s finger shaking as he points at him. Now usually, Bakugou has no problem with blasting the little pervert and calling it a day but he’s not quite done giving the literal talk down of a century just yet.

“Listen here you sex offender in training” He sneers and he takes great pleasure in seeing the other tremble in fear. “Wanna know why people shut the fuck up when I talk? Why people bother to take my advice? Why compared to me, you’re just a coward that no one besides the class’s resident sunshine trio will ever look at twice?” He asks, getting up slowly. No one stops him as he takes a step forward.

“Because I say actually fucking matters.” Step. “What I say is based off of experience and talent.” Step. “If you’re lucky then maybe the shit you spew will be worth something because it’s not worth anything here.” He finally makes it to his desk, towering over the other.

“You don’t like what I gotta say? Deal with it. I’ll continue to talk my shit to everyone and anyone because I can back it up. Can you? You fought any villains recently like teach over there? You go through some sudden growth and expand your moral compass like glasses? You fight and protect a little girl from the yakuza recently like Deku and Shitty hair? How bout deal with a shitty dad or shitty parenrs like IcyHot and Eyebags? What? Piss baby too scared now? Yeah, where were you when we were fighting for our lives? Were you there when Pikachu and Tape Face and Racoon Eyes fought against the villains in USJ?” He questions but everyone knows he’s not asking for an answer. “You there when birdbrain almost got kidnapped? You there when I got kidnapped? No? Then do everyone a fucking favor and shut the fuck up or I swear to whatever god you believe in, I’ll shove my fist down your throat and into your pathetic body and explode you so badly they’ll be scrapping off your guts for days.”

Needless to say, it was an interesting class

[mando-chicken]

Mental Occupation | Chapter 3.

“When Fives is killed, his essence refuses to become one with the force, instead, searching out the easiest sentient being to attach itself to. After years working beneath Palpatine, Fox has had his mental shields completely eroded and his defences completely shattered, making him the perfect person for Fives’ essence to transfer into. The two of them must figure out how all this strange ‘jedi stuff’ works and how they can both coexist long enough to save their brothers and if they’re lucky, perhaps the rest of the galaxy too.”

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Thire tried not to frown as he watched Fox silently eat his morning meal, listening to his fellow commanders as they playfully teased one another and swapped gossip, while keeping an eye on his older brother for any signs of distress. While it was quite common for Fox to stay relatively quiet first thing in the morning, especially before his first cup of caff for the day, he seemed to be even more withdrawn than usual. In truth, Thire had wanted to let him sleep for a little longer as he was certain that the other commander had barely slept, but the mess hall didn’t wait around for anyone, and he wanted to be sure that Fox got a decent serve of rations before he would no doubt sneak away to hide in his office under a pile of datapads.  

When Fox was stressed, he tended to push his brothers away and throw himself into his work. He could detach himself from the world with the cold, hard logic of forms and reports, refusing to accept comfort or express any of the emotions swirling around in his mind. They would give him space for a while and allow him to work his way through whatever was weighing on his mind, and he would always come back to them in the end. He just needed them nearby to offer their support in the form of silent companionship and reassurances.  

But this situation was unlike anything they had faced before, and Thire wasn’t sure that Fox’s usual method of dealing with trauma would help him to move on from the horrifying situation he had just been through. While the exact details surrounding what happened were rather vague at best, one thing was blaringly obvious. Fox had killed a brother.  

The very thought made Thire’s insides squirm in discontent, and he was unable to stop the slightly ill look from claiming his features as he rolled the concept around in his head. It truly made no sense as to why Fox would allow such a thing to happen – he was practically the king of preaching about how important the stun setting of their weapons were when dealing with their targets – so for him to then turn around and shoot one of their own brothers was unspeakable. There was no doubt that it had to have been an accident, but Fox didn’t make mistakes. Alpha-17 didn’t raise some rookie amateur who went into every situation guns blazing, he raised a calm, confident commander, who always managed to get the job done efficiently and competently.  

He didn’t know what had happened to Fox, and for the sake of preserving what was left of the man’s sanity, Thire would give him some time to process it, but he was going to get to the bottom of it, one way or another. He just hoped that Cody was able to keep his younger brother, Rex, at bay long enough for him to do so. To say that the Captain had been mad would have been a massive understatement – the man was seeing red and looked about a second away from trying to return the favour – it was lucky that Thire had managed to turn up when he did, because even General Skywalker seemed to be having trouble keeping him calm.  

From the corner of his eye he could see that despite the fact Thorn was happily ribbing Stone for something that had happened on one of the missions overnight, the other Commander kept subtly glancing at Fox. He was trying to act as normal as possible, but the curiosity burning in his eyes was more than obvious. It made sense – Thorn had been in a completely different sector when everything had gone down, only hearing about what had happened over comms and during the debrief afterwards while Fox slept in the medbay – he was closer to Fox than any of them, had known him longer, and worried for him like an anxious mother nexu. Thorn was clearly struggling not to just grab his brother by the shoulders and shake the information out of him, but if there was one thing all members of the Guard had to learn, it was patience.  

Stone was perhaps the most collected of them all, but that was only to be expected. He had always been able to practically ooze calm from his very pores, and this situation was no different. He wasn’t uncaring, of course, simply able to remain confident and collected – perhaps that was why he kept getting assigned to working with Senator Binks, much to Stone’s eternal agony – but it was easy to see how he was unnerved from the way his brow was constantly furrowed and he kept getting lost in his thoughts.  

“How are you feeling this morning, Fox?” Of course Hound would be the one to speak to the Commander so bluntly. The kid was only a sergeant, technically not high ranking enough that he should be addressing a commanding officer so casually, yet they’d admittedly taught him a couple of bad habits over the years. Thorn had taken the younger clone under his wing when he was fresh off Kamino, teaching him how to survive in the treacherous landscape that was Coruscant. They’d brought him to their table, allowed him to work closely with them, and inevitably brought him into their inner circle.  

Fox jerked after a moment, seeming to suddenly realise that he was the one being addressed, blinking owlishly at Hound, “fine.” His response drew a disbelieving scoff from Stone, who offered a raised eyebrow. “I’m a little tired if you must know,” he continued slowly, sensing that his answer was not exactly what they’d been looking for, “nothing a good night’s sleep won’t fix.”

That got a genuine laugh from the table. A good night’s sleep? Unheard of. But Thire was pleased to see that at least some of Fox’s cynical humour remained.  

“Seriously though, what did happen last night?” Hound managed to ask after quieting his amused chuckles, “there’s some real strange rumours floating around the barracks, and I thought that maybe you could give us a little info-”

“Quit digging for gossip, Hound, before we chuck you back to the CT table,” Thorn growled, wrapping an arm around Hound’s neck and dragging him into a firm headlock, “never should have let you hang out with us, you’re too nosy for your own good, kid. You’ll find out when the info gets declassified, just like everyone else.”

Hound pulled an admirable attempt at making sad tooka eyes, but Thorn simply tightened his hold until the younger clone was forced to slap at the commander’s arm, needing breath. “Should’ve left me where you found me,” he grinned after finally being freed from Thorn’s hold, “besides, you love me too much to send me back now.”

Thorn simply glowered at him, stealing a tuber from his brother’s plate in retaliation, “perhaps,” he nodded, “or perhaps I just knew you’d never make it on your own, especially not with the way you keep poking your nose into everyone else’s business.”  

Hound made an indignant squawking sound, puffing up like an offended bird. He tried to reach out with his own fork to steal back a tuber from Thorn’s plate, but the older brother was too swift, too used to dealing with vengeful little brothers, and slid the plate out of Hound’s reach. He ensured to shove another tuber in his mouth, just for spite.  

When Thire looked to Fox, he didn’t have that disapproving scowl on his face, or the amusement that twinkled deep within his eyes, giving away his true feelings. Instead, he seemed almost nervous, like he was intruding on something not meant for him to see. While his brothers played and joked and tried to keep the atmosphere as normal as possible, Fox seemed to keep looking away, distracted by something only he could see. His fork moved around and around his plate, but barely any of the food had been disturbed. Most worryingly, the cup of caff that should have already been downed, sat untouched before him, no longer steaming as the commander preferred.  

Before Thire could mention it, however, his wrist comm chimed at him, signalling an end to their morning meal and a need to return to duty. “Alrighty boys, that’s our cue to head out,” he sighed, taking the last sip of his own caff, scowling at the bitter taste of the now cool dregs. His words were met with a chorus of groans as the rest of the table rushed to stuff their faces with the rest of their meal.  

Thorn was the first to stand, his stance already shifting into his usual command stance, “You heard Thire boys, and you all know your designated duties for this morning, so I’d suggest you all get to it.” He was answered by a mix of affirmatives as the other commanders and their sergeant gathered up their now empty plates and mugs, breaking apart to return them to the serving area to be cleaned in time for mid-meal.  

Thire, as agreed with Thorn last night while Fox had slept, stayed behind to wait as Fox too returned his items (a still full caff cup among them) to the servers. He moved to walk in step with his fellow commander, leading their way through the bustling hallways and towards the offices. There were men running in all directions – officers barking orders at squads as they raced towards their destinations, and soft-shells sprinting down the corridors, arms piled high with datapads and flimsi sheets – it made navigating the base a challenge at best, and a nightmare at worst.  

Eventually, they managed to reach Fox’s office and Thire was quick to type in the access code, sliding inside and out of the steady stream of brothers. Fox is swift to lock the door behind them, glancing around the room briefly, before wandering over to his desk and taking a long look at the rather intimidating pile of datapads. He places his helmet down at the foot of the desk, and Thire is glad that Fox is at least feeling well enough to keep the bucket off his head to look his brother in the eyes.  

“I know it’s not much,” Thire begins, clearing his throat, “but like I said, we were able to get you the first few hours off this morning, so you can focus on dealing with that monster,” he gestures at the unsigned pads, “or you could, y’know, actually relax for a few minutes.” He expects Fox to offer him his usual deadpan expression, but the man just nods slowly, seemingly unsure what to say in response.  

He continues, saving his brother from having to come up with something, “I should be heading off though, I’ve got chancellor sitting duty,” he huffs, the irritation in his tone completely genuine. Fox makes an odd expression, caught somewhere between looking like he’d tasted something sour, and horror. A reasonable enough response, given the shadiness of the man’s character, and, of course, the fact that he always seemed to enjoy using the Guard as his personal servants.  

“Yep, I understand that look,” he grinned, hoisting up his bucket and placing it over his head, clicking it into place. He took a step to the door before pausing, “just make sure you comm me, or Thorn if you’d prefer, if you need anything. And I mean it, anything, Fox.” He waits until his brother gives a nod, before heading back out the door and merging with the stream of brothers heading toward the exit. He didn’t like Fox’s behaviour, but there was little he could do about it. He could, however, think of someone who would know exactly what to do with him.  

Thire pulled up his wrist comm, beginning to type out a new message to Commander Cody.

-----

Fives is quiet when Commander Thire leaves the office, taking a moment to ensure he was completely alone, before huffing out a deep breath. He swayed slightly on his feet with the force of it, bringing a hand up to his head to begin massaging his aching temple. He could already tell that a nasty headache was brewing from the stress alone. Yet another problem to add to his steadily growing list.  

It had been particularly painful to sit through morning meal with the other commanders of the Coruscant Guard, trying his best to pretend he did not see the way they were all eyeing him, clearly dying to interrogate him for answers he simply did not possess. He had been especially startled when the lone sergeant, Hound, his mind supplied, had spoken to him, and he regretted not having been paying full attention.  

Rather, Fives had been entirely absorbed by his own thoughts. Something did not sit right with the way his brain seemed to be randomly supplying him with information he was certain he did not have previously. The names of all the commanders came to him as easily as the names of his own batchmates, as if he’d known them all along, despite the fact he had only met half of them before and even then it was only a mere glance in passing.  

Yet somehow he felt as though he already knew their tells. He knew how Thire constantly worked hard to prove that it was the right decision to promote him to the rank of commander. He knew how Thorn had a particular soft spot for the shinies that came to join the Guard, and would defend them to his final breath if it came down to it. He knew how Stone preferred to hang back from the others, but loved them no less fiercely. And he even knew that despite all his bravado, Hound was a soft man at heart and always carried candies in his belt pockets for children he came across on patrol.  

But Fives didn’t know them, not really, they were strangers.  

He had always been good at reading people. It was a skill he had possessed since he was a child – to look at one of his brothers or one of the trainers and near enough feel their emotions echoed back at him as clearly as words printed on piece of flimsi – and he had always assumed that it was a natural ability. But this seemed too much, even for his natural aptitude for noticing subtle cues.  

There were so much unexplained knowledge suddenly bombarding Fives’ thoughts, and his head only pounded louder as he tried to figure out why he seemed to already know how to navigate the base with his eyes closed. The layout of the base seemed to suddenly click in his mind, like he had forgotten it briefly, but had always known it seep down. It was as though his mind was clouded, something blocking him from accessing all of the thoughts he could feel buried somewhere deep within his head, only the occasional thought drifting through the fog and to the forefront of his mind.  

Fives sunk down into the rather uncomfortable seat across from the lone desk, the crimson of his borrowed armour catching his attention. He knew that he was most certainly not in his own body, and so wondered if he had somehow, accidentally, acquired some of the commander’s lingering thoughts. As far as Fives’ knowledge of the situation went, it seemed as reasonable an explanation as he would be able to come up with.  

It made him feel dirty. He had no idea what had happened to himself, or to Commander Fox, but it felt downright voyeuristic to be partial to the random raw thoughts that came from whatever remained of the Commander’s mind. But he had no idea how to find out what had happened to either of them, or how to rectify their rather precarious situation. If Commander Fox’s thoughts were still able to linger, then was he too present somewhere, locked deep within Fives’ consciousness? Or had Fox somehow traded places with him and now inhabited a cold corpse? Fives certainly hoped not.  

For a moment he closed his eyes, thinking hard on the foreign mass of thoughts plaguing his mind, deciding that he might as well try to figure out a few things while he had a few hours to himself. He deeply regretted not paying Commander Tano more attention when she had described Jedi meditation to him, but found that it wasn’t too difficult to try and isolate the foggy area from the rest of his mind. He recalled her talking about being able to create shields around a mind, to keep out the thoughts of others, something that all sentients could achieve (albeit not to the degree of a force sensitive).  

He was no doubt clumsy with his method of ‘shielding’, and it was significantly more work than Fives had been expecting, but in the end he felt satisfied with his attempt. He was pretty certain that he had managed to corral all of the rogue thoughts into the one area, away from his actual thoughts so that he could tell which one of them was thinking what, rather than having a jumble of random sensations and thoughts mixing together.  

His head seemed to burn whenever he disturbed the other mind lingering in his head, but Fives pushed determinedly onward. Poking and prodding at it like an overexcited child, desperate to find even the slightest sign that there could be even a spark of life. It was a tedious process but finally, after what felt like agonising hours of work, Fives felt a sharp feeling of surprise stab back at him.

The mass of fog seemed to shudder and shift, rearranging itself until it formed a slightly more coherent shape that Fives usually associated with the feeling of another person’s mind when he tried to get a grasp on their emotions, only amplified tenfold. He could feel Fox, if only vaguely. He seemed groggy, as though just waking up from a long sleep, and Fives was a little unnerved by the unnatural feeling of someone else’s emotions flickering through his mind. He silently prayed that the Commander wouldn’t be too angry, but it seemed his hope was in vain, for the first clear emotion Fives felt was irritation at a level commanders usually reserved for the poor shiny tasked with waking them from a pleasant nap. His fears were confirmed when a thought came thundering across his mind.

“What the kriff just happened!?”