#personally i don’t agree with people calling him bland but i’ve wanted to make this for god knows how many months

[persesphonestears]

Another tattoo

(Gif not mine :>)

A/N: So I have to make this a more than one part series because I wrote like way too much and I’m gonna die if I don’t post this already. Also so sorry it’s only Ghost in this post, but promise the second part will have the others!! I actually had so much fun writing this like omfg, I don’t have any piercings or tats for myself thanks to money problems atm but like actually I don’t know where I was going with that- uh anyway enjoy! I’m very tired. (looking at the amount now seems rlly small so sorry :/) ALSO I FUCKIN HATE THE NAME TOO LEAVE ME ALONE.

CW: He/they pronouns used for reader(? I might have ended up just using they/them), Reader has tattoos and piercings, I DONT THINK I USED Y/N LES GOO, I call ghost Simon when he isn't at work, Probably incorrect tattoo health procedures, Reader may be a little bland when first meeting Ghost(?), small mentions of gods(?)

Word count: 1342

Simon was finally let off for a break, given it’s only because Price knew he wasn’t keeping himself healthy or sleeping, so being the ‘dad’ boss he is, Simon was forced to take time off. While Simon wasn’t even close to being happy about having to not stay at base and having to make himself food and all the other human necessities, he’d been wanting a new tattoo for some time now. While maybe some of the privates would simply tattoo each other with pen ink, he’d rather die on the field than die from an infection from a more than likely shitty tattoo.

Walking through the somewhat dodgy looking part of his hometown, looking for a seemingly decent tattoo shop. While walking his eye was caught by the small little tattoo shop that looked clean and not all that dodgy. A small bell as the door opened rang as Simon stepped through, looking around at the walls he was impressed with the artwork that was displayed. He could hear faint 2000s rock music in the background of the shop, standing awkwardly waiting to see if anyone was actually here.

Turning around to walk out, he heard a small crash and a string of curses that followed.

Simon stopped and turned to see a short tattooed and pierced person walking out from the back of the shop. “Hi, sorry I was uh..” their talking trailed off as he looked down to see a fresh and unfinished tattoo on their leg. Unknown to Simon, the person in front of him was just very very happy that they weren’t able to be seen from the back, preferring not to be caught staring at the huge 6’4 man in their shop. 

“Uh anyway, I’m guessing you don’t have an appointment cause I don’t have any till later tonight, but I take walk in’s, both for tats and piercings'' They rambled off as they walked around to the front desk checking through their computer, Simon watched them, surprised by the feeling of fluttering in his stomach. Pushing it away he cleared his throat “Uh yeah walk in, are you able to tat up my other forearm?” he was wearing a t-shirt under his hoodie, happy he wasn’t going to be taking his shirt off. “Mhm sure, I just need to ask a few questions and then get you to sign some consent forms, that cool?” He asked walking back around and sitting on one of the couch chairs at the front, taking a seat after them, Simon sat and agreed to the others' request.

“Cool, alright so first is which arm you want it on obviously and if you have any tattoos on your forearm already?” Simon answered with short and gruff answers “My right arm and no, my left is already tattooed(I think I can’t remember which arm of his is tatted).” “Right cool okay so I’m not gonna bother asking if you're of age because it's pretty obvious because holy shit you are probably the biggest and hottest man I’ve ever seen, but just read through these quick and sign ‘em” Thanking whatever gods there were for people not being able to read minds. Handing the forms to Simon he grabbed them and the pen from your hands, giving a quick read through signing where he had to. Putting them back on the desk, you grabbed them right back and skimmed through them, “Okay Simon, well what do you want?”.

—tiny time skip–

After setting everything up and placing the stencil of the sketch that you drew up (That Simon wouldn’t admit but absolutely adored) onto the gruff military man that was sitting in your chair. “Okay, you ready?” A simple nod was what you received in response. Instead of pushing you continued to go ahead and start his tattoo, not once deciding to ask about some of the many scars that graced his arms. Them seemingly adding onto your attraction for the stranger in your shop as he sat still and silent. Becoming; as you do when tattooing, engrossed in the soft buzzing, the hushed music of your playlist and the ink going into skin at your hand.

“How many do you ‘got?” The gruff voice from above me spoke as I continued to stab his skin. “Tats or piercings?” Responding with another question as I kept my focus on the shading, trying to not let the fact that this absolute 10/10 was asking you about yourself. Sure it was most likely to just make conversation but you could dream. “Both?” The voice behind the black surgical mask didn’t sound overly confident but even when peeking up at the man he was still only looking forward. “I stopped counting how many tats I got a while ago. As for my piercings uh..” cutting myself off to count in my head. “I’d say about 9, not counting my ears.” Feeling a cold gaze turn towards me I stiffen slightly. 

“You only have 6 on your face.” (I chose to give reader a vertical labret, septum, both sides of the nose(like so you could use a chain), bridge, eyebrow :D) His voice replies, stifling my laugh “yeah I know I just don’t normally let people see my chest or just randomly show my stomach.” Giggling, I look up to see his ears turning a slight pink. “R-right sorry.” Trying not to laugh at a client, we continued to talk for a bit more before I suggested to put a movie on more to make it less uncomfortable for me with the awkward conversation. After picking a movie, he seemed to relax just a tad more, getting myself comfortable. I continued to finish up the art piece I was adding to someone's skin.

—another time skip because Ghost would get something edgy and big and I can’t keep writing silly awkwardness—

By the time you had finished and made sure to add some disinfectant and soothing cream to the skin before wrapping it up. You pat his shoulder smiling softly “you’re all done big guy”. Rising from the seat, he walked somehow (even though this man is huge) silently towards the front desk. Scanning his card and giving him the papers that explained how to look after his tattoo. “Thank you. You’re uhm. Very handsome- or uh pretty? I don’t know, can I just get your number?” Stumbling over his words brought a smile to your face. “Sure, I’d uh I’d actually really like it if you took my number” you ramble as you grab some scrap paper, quickly writing your personal number you hand it to him.

Seeing his eyes scrunch slightly, let you know he was smiling at you, and god almighty if the fact that this huge, scary, masked, stoic, man giving you a smile, that you couldn’t even see, wouldn’t make you swoon. Giving you a quick nod he walked out, the small bell above your door ringing in your ears as you watched him leave. 

Giggling to yourself as you stupidly fist pumped the air and twirled around happily, not registering the sound of the bell being rung, indicating the opening of a door. What you did register was the once again gruff voice, clearing their throat as you turned back to look at the man who just left back in your shop. “Forgot ma’ cap.” Swiftly grabbing his hat back with what you could only assume was the smuggest look ever he turned back around. This time leaving you with a curt “Bye now, doll”

Leaving you red faced, in the middle of your own shop. Snapping out of it you groaned loudly before retreating to the floor, hidden by the desk. Cursing yourself for your stupid victory jig you did before even making sure that he wouldn’t come back for a bit. A buzz in your pocket distracted you from your internal dread, pulling out your phone and opening it to see a message from an unknown number. “That lil’ dance was very cute btw”.

A/N: *twerks cutely* ANYWAY

[ughmyreality]

Thoughts on S3 E4

(SPOILERS ahead)

There might be positives, there will be negatives, so please be forewarned that I am not going to solely praise the show. Also, it needs not be mentioned, I am but a single negative person on the internet talking about a fictional story. We are all not going to agree.

On another note, this episode in particular left me with a lot of feelings so I might make another post talking about the dynamic of Polin entirely. Anyway... With that said, let’s move on.

Episode 4-

I’m all for Lord Debling. He’s shown to have not only more personality than Colin but also have a genuine interest in Penelope. I like that they’ve tried their hand at showing an unconventional man.

I miss Brimsley and Reynolds together. They could be a cutesy old couple together. Sigh… but at least Brimsley hasn’t lost his wit.

Oh my gosh, the introduction of John! I’m all for it. Finally Francesca looks genuinely happy. I like the fact that neither of them quite know what to say. This is how you do “awkward wallflower”.

Who cares about the “give up the club” storyline? Honestly, I’m just going to start skipping it and if I miss something important I’ll just read some spoilers. 

I particularly like the hairstyle of Penelope in the scene with Lord Debling. Although I have been enjoying their outfits, I feel like a lot of them look way too modern. I understand that Bridgerton is not an accurate historical show, but I feel like the issue is more glaring this season.

I’m glad someone else said it. Colin was not the only one holding that balloon down but everyone swoons for him. 

Staring like a creep doesn’t convey romance, at least not to me. I’m sure if anyone were dedicated enough to count the line between Penelope vs Colin, you’d find that Colin has barely said anything in comparison. Out of the 4 episodes so far, I’ve taken from them that Colin is popular with the ladies, likes to travel, and doesn’t care for LW. Ok? Where is the suave main male lead? He has not an ounce of charm. I can’t see how even Polin fans can be satisfied with the way things are going. Colin is barely in it, Penelope plays the victim and finds herself in more trouble, and the rest is watered down filler. 

Honestly, I’m keeping my hopes up for the future. I surprisingly enjoyed Anthony’s season, even though he previously got on my nerves, so I thought maybe they’d surprise me again. I don’t know why they would go out of the book order. They could have had a more subtle opportunity to establish Polin, for better or worse, while also moving on to the fan favorite, Benedict.

Here we go again. At this point these bland sex scenes are nothing more than a hindrance to the show. They’re lifeless and add nothing to the plot.

Girl, “and I should like to call on Miss Cowper a moment”! My head is already filled with ships with no hope of being cannon and it appears I have found another one. 

I’m not understanding why Cressida’s father doesn’t want her to be around Eloise. Because of the scandal? Like it or not the Bridgerton name has shown to still hold quite significant power. If anything he should be happy they’re friends.

How in any way has Colin been aware of others' needs? All they do is tell us about Colin’s character rather than show us. I have seen not one instance of Colin caring for someone else. If we’re talking about caring for other people, we should be talking about Anthony. The one who cared and helped all his younger siblings after the death of their father. The person who despite his sometimes harsh ways, wants the best for them all. Colin is hardly ever home so when would he have the opportunity to be caring. He can waste money freely on his travels without thinking of anyone else. He can see the clear feud between Eloise and Penelope but still somehow make it about himself. It’s pretty obvious that Eloise has a closer relationship to Benedict and if Colin was so concerned he would have asked him what’s wrong. He seemingly doesn’t care that Penelope might have found a genuine man but is thinking instead of how seeing them together makes him feel. He has no consideration for his friends if you can even call them that. They inlist in idol chatter about women. He comes to a sudden realization and tries to confide in his friends only to find that they don’t care and why should they. It seems as though they have never had a decent conversation beyond their own sexual adventures so why should they suddenly care about how he’s feeling. He doesn’t spend enough time with the people he supposedly cares so much about, barely interacting with the rest of his siblings. So tell me again Violet how Colin is so caring and sensitive.

Colin has in no way been living to please others. He just returned after months away. I would think that Violet wouldn’t want him traveling for so long, she surely wasn’t pleased. He didn’t put his feelings aside and court Penelope to please her. He didn’t drop the subject or try to offer advice to Eloise about her friendship downfall which didn’t please her. Nothing he has done has been out of unselfishness. Unless you consider that poor attempt to help Penelope, which steamed out of pity rather than him truly wanting to help her.

Yes! Cressida is showing where her loyalties lie. Sticking by Eloise’s side, much more than someone can say.

Colin has no right to try and tell Penelope what to do. He had his chance more times than I can count. It’s too little too late.

I’m actually kind of sad for Lord Debling. He seems like an actual nice person and he thought he had a chance with Penelope. At least he ended the conversation nicely because I would have been more angry. 

Why is Colin’s main point against Lord Debling that he will leave. It’s almost like he’s talking about himself, he is notorious for his travels.

Penelope should have slapped Colin. Have some confidence girl! This guy literally was on the brink of marrying your cousin, publicly stated he’d never court you, and dispises your alter ego. Now for what appears to be nothing but physical lust, he barges in your carriage claiming to be entranced with you. Level up! Stop this same song and dance.

Sigh, I hate to say it, but I don’t think Luke’s acting is very good in comparison to everyone else. He hardly moves his face. It’s like those clichés of people with Botox not being able to make facial expressions. Note, how I feel they intentionally barely showed his face in this part because of this. This is supposed to be the start of a steamy interaction but Colin looks as though he couldn’t care less.

Wow… another useless sex scene. This came from nowhere. Penelope are we supposed to ignore the fact that this man rejected you multiple times but now only wants you for sex? Also, Penelope never seemed too enthralled with the idea of anything sexual but she’ll become some sexual fiend with Colin at the drop of a hat.

Where is the SLOW BURN FRIENDS TO LOVERS! I’m on the verge of madness! Tell me how Colin can profess his supposed feeling for Penelope, nearly take her virginity, and propose all in one night? This is repulsive. If Penelope had any sense of respect she’d turn down his proposal seeing as she’s Lady Whistledown, but of course that would be expecting her to take accountability so she more than likely will not. Colin has some nerve proposing too. What does he even know about her? He doesn’t like her personality but rather her new physical appearance. I feel like one of the appeals of Penelope is the fact that she’s a plus sized woman, which is great. However, what message is this sending to people? That ‘Oh well, you know that plus sized girl that has a crush on you? Maybe if you ignore all the things you don’t like about her you’ll realize she’s just another woman after all. Just another person to have sex with.’ I wanted this to be a situation where Colin ends up liking Penelope for her, albeit awful, personality. Because any random guy can like you for your looks but not anyone will love you for your flaws and all.

This carriage scene doesn’t hold a candle to even the scene between Daphne and Simon in the FIRST season. This was nothing special and honestly I could have done without.

I’ve said it in the last part, but this only further solidified my beliefs. There is absolutely no reason this needed to drop in two parts. There is no surprise, we all know that Colin x Penelope will be endgame so what’s the point? We know that Penelope will more than likely say yes to the proposal and even if she says no, she’ll say yes eventually. There’s no suspense.

I guess for my ending thoughts I will say, I’m just glad this is over with and we can move on to some other characters in the later seasons. It will be a breath of fresh air. My only hope is that they don’t rush them like they did Polin.

Now, word on the street is that Colin is going to end up going to a brothel after he finds out Penelope is lady whistledown. I haven't dug too deep into this so take it with a grain of salt. However, if true, I have so many problems with this. 

-EXTRA SPOILERS FOR PART 2-

Why does he think mindless sex is going to solve his problems? That’s just a red flag that anytime the going gets tough he might resort to cheating.

If Penelope had true intentions of marrying Colin she should have told him the truth and been ready for a negative reaction.

I thought Colin was supposed to always think of others. How is fucking anything that moves while he’s engaged “thinking of other’s needs”?

Penelope still stays with him. Why are we feeding into the narrative that it’s perfectly ok for your partner to cheat on you? They haven’t even been together that long and he’s already cheating. It’s already a stereotype of plus sized women having “low self confidence” and they are doing nothing to stop that. 

[doggernaut]

Role reversal AU?

This AU, unfortunately, is very far down the list of things I'm likely to finish, mainly because it's a much bigger fic than I have time to write at the moment. It was originally a prompt I chose for last year's @omgauplease fest, but between school work and marathon training I just didn't have enough time to devote to it. 

The gist of the prompt was a role reversal fic where Bitty is a cocky, closeted figure skater who's about to spin out of control and Jack, having gone through something similar, is the only one who recognizes what's happening to Bitty.

To make it more of a role reversal, after Jack's overdose he took up baking and started taking hockey a lot less seriously. So while he is still captain of SMH in this AU, and professional hockey is still a goal he's working toward at the beginning of the fic, baking professionally becomes his primary ambition as the fic progresses.

Looking at what I've already written and what I have planned, I really would like to finish this fic someday; I just can't give it the attention it requires at the moment. But here is a fun (I think) interaction involving Ransom and Holster:

The muffins are cooling on a rack by the time Ransom and Holster finally make it down an hour later, dressed in their khaki shorts and polo shirts emblazoned with the name of the golf course they work at. “Dude, Shitty said there are new muffins?” Ransom asks while Holster pulls two Gatorades from the fridge.  Jack grabs two egg and spinach muffins off the cooling rack and hands them over. “Something new.” Holster eyes the muffin skeptically. “Fucking hell, Jack, what’s the deal with these muffins? They look like the Incredible Hulk took a shit.” “That’s spinach.” And Holster’s not exactly wrong about their visual description, but Jack isn’t going to give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him. “What happened to the cinnamon streusel?” Ransom asks. “Those were fucking incredible.” “I’m trying something new. We don’t need to have dessert for breakfast every day, especially with morning practices starting soon. These will give you energy for the day.” “They taste like ass and make me want to die,” Holster says dramatically. That’s actually good feedback. Jack had thought they were a little bland. Next batch, he’ll add some Tabasco. Despite Holster’s less-than-stellar review, Ransom and Holster each take a second muffin. “Hey,” Jack says, taking advantage of the fact that the guys’ mouths are full and they can’t interrupt him, “there’s this guy who keeps rushing me off the ice every morning. Figure skater. You have any idea who he is?” “Like, a student?” Holster asks. “Or just somebody using the rink?” Jack shrugs. “I get the feeling he goes here, but I’ve never asked.” “You could, you know. Ask. Like a normal person. Unless … Jack, do you have a crush?” “No,” Jack says emphatically. Why do people keep thinking that? “I just want to know who he is and why he’s using the rink. I don’t want problems when practices start up.” “Fine, we’ll do some recon.” Holster sighs, as if it’s a huge chore and not one of their favorite pastimes. Somehow, despite only being rising sophomores, Ransom and Holster are Facebook friends with half the college students in the entire state of Massachusetts. Or, at least the athletes. Jack’s positive that somebody in their vast network will know who this guy is. “But you know you could just ask him,” Ransom reminds Jack. “Like a normal person.” 

It’s three days before the guys get back to Jack. Three days in which he does not talk to the guy “like a normal person” because Jack has been getting up even earlier to make sure he’s out of the rink before the guy arrives. He knows this isn’t sustainable; once regular classes and practices start up he’ll no longer have the luxury of a mid-day nap. But it works for now. “Yo, Jack!” Ransom calls as they clatter into the Haus, sweaty and disheveled after work. “We got the deets on your figure skater.” Jack sighs. “He’s not my figure skater.” Ransom waves away Jack’s correction. “Whatever, you know who I mean. Do we have any Gatorade?” he asks, sticking his head in the fridge. “It’s Eric Bittle,” Holster says, as if the name is supposed to be of significance. “And?” “Eric. Bittle,” Holster repeats. He pauses to take a swig of the blue Gatorade Ransom’s just passed off to him. “Figure skater, took third at Junior Nationals a few years ago and surprised everyone when he moved up to the men’s division and took thirteenth last year.” “But he’s better known for his social media presence,” Ransom adds. “He’s all over Twitter and Insta, and he’s got this YouTube vlog where he talks about behind the scenes skating stuff and does routines to popular songs. At Nationals he got a couple of guys to do the Single Ladies dance with him and it went viral. I don’t know how you missed it, it was everywhere for like … a week.” “Was it during the season?” Jack barely pays attention to the latest viral trends as it is. Ransom rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Do you want the deets or not?” “Are there more ‘deets?’” “He got dropped by his coach after that video went viral. She said he could have placed in the top five at Nationals if he took skating as seriously as his YouTube career.” “Ouch.” Ransom nods. “Well, yeah. And then he made a rebuttal video accusing his coach of not preparing him well enough for the competition, and that that was the reason he scored so low. Now he can’t find a coach willing to work with him.” “He said that?” Jacks interrupts. “Not in so many words, but this guy at work who plays for BC dates this girl who skates and she heard through the grapevine—” “Okay, okay.” Jack motions for Ransom to continue.  “So he’s here at Samwell. He was supposed to start here last year—“ “There’s an episode of his vlog where he opens his acceptance letter—”  “—but he deferred for a year to focus on skating.” If Ransom and Holster devoted half as much time to working on plays as they apparently have to watching some random figure skater’s YouTube archives, Jack thinks, SMH might have gone a little further in last year’s post-season.  “Our point is, you really should know who he is because he’s the biggest celebrity to attend Samwell since that girl who won a Tony when she was fourteen a few years back,” Holster says. “Way more famous than you,” Ransom adds unnecessarily. Every year Samwell gets one or two high profile students who are famous for one thing or another. Jack didn’t win a Nobel Peace Prize as a teenager or star in a long-running Disney Channel show. But his dad won a few Stanley Cups as a professional hockey player and his mom was a supermodel before becoming an actress, so … he’s not the average college student, either. He’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have been selected as one of “Samwell’s Most Beautiful” if his parents weren’t who they are. “So he’s not competing anymore?” Jack asks. Ransom shrugs. “The last video he posted was right before he left to come here. He said he’s going to focus on school for a while and coach himself.” “Huh.” None of this is what Jack expected to learn, but he can’t deny he’s intrigued. “Thanks.” Holster downs the last of the Gatorade in one gulp and belches. “This one was a freebie. Next time you require our shit excavation services, we’re gonna need you to pay us in muffins.”

[marce-mallow]

“Who needs a personality when you have freckles?”

Makoto, probably

[phoenixyfriend]

The Family Tree is... a Disaster

Takes place in the TCW Leverage AU. It does contain a few deviations, namely that the narrative ended up shifting Plo's role in Ahsoka's life, and Ventress's role overall.

This is mostly just dialogue where I outline the fuckery that is the disaster lineage family tree, not actual fic. It stemmed from my incessant need to justify "25yo Obi-Wan somehow got custody of 9yo Anakin without Shmi dying."

Warnings for: canon character death (modernized), canon violence (modernized), and references to Nazis and white supremacists (Palpatine collects WWII weaponry as a parallel to his canon display of Sith artifacts in his office as chancellor, and Ahsoka thinks it's sketchy)

----

"Okay," Cody says, setting down a glass of whiskey as he drops into the seat across the table. "What the hell is your family tree like?"

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, and continues cleaning off the definitely-not-stolen crystal komodo dragon he'd won in today's job. "I beg your pardon?"

"You and Skywalker," Cody says, gesturing between Obi-Wan, who is just sitting there minding his own business, and Anakin, who is across the closed-for-tonight bar and doing something inadvisable on the pool table. "You've said he was your brother, and mentioned raising him, which, sure, I'm over twenty years older than my youngest brother, people take over parenting roles all the time. But you have different last names, have mentioned stepfamilies that the other doesn't have, reference things as 'your aunt, not mine,' and I am just getting... very confused. I figured it was personal and I could leave well enough alone, but considering your older brother almost shot us today--"

"Okay, Xanatos is not my brother," Obi-Wan immediately says. "Just. I just have to stop you right there. Xanatos was a student of my father's for a time, but I promise he's not family. Nobody except maybe Komari would consider him even close, and she doesn't count since she's in prison for life and the farthest thing from stable."

Cody gestures. "That, Obi-Wan. That's what I'm talking about. I don't even know who Komari is."

Obi-Wan purses his lips in a failed attempt to not smile. "Do you actually want the explanation? It's long and unnecessarily complicated."

"So's mine," Cody snorts. Obi-Wan waits, patient and pleasant, and is rewarded when Cody sighs. "Please."

"Of course, my dear. To answer your first question, though, Anakin is my half-brother." With a smile, Obi-Wan digs a piece of paper and a pen from his briefcase. "So, center of the chain: me, my father Qui-Gon, my grandfather Yan, and my great-grandfather Yoda. With me so far?"

"Easy enough. Do you have to go back that far?"

"Great-grandfather Yoda is still alive and regularly escaping the old folks' home to terrorize younger relatives, so yes," Obi-Wan says. "Given that you may just meet a tiny, meddling relative of mine when he's bored, we do in fact have to go back that far."

"...how old is he?"

"We don't know for sure. A hundred and eight-ish is the best guess." Obi-Wan shrugs. "It's not a huge deal, mostly he likes bothering Anakin these days. Anyway, grandfather. Yan Dooku. Inherited a minory duchy from his maternal grandfather decades back. Mostly hangs around there because he's on terrorist watchlists in the States."

"Oh, lovely."

Obi-Wan grins. "Trust me, it gets worse. Anyway, grandfather never actually married, but spent most of his time with his 'best friend' Sifo Dyas, who died about a decade back."

"Gay?"

"Well, we know that now, but they got together in the seventies, and this was back when they were both working government jobs, so, you know. It happens."

"Good to know," Cody says. "So, Yoda's kid is Yan, who inherited a title and land from a maternal relative, and had a life partner but never married. With you so far."

"All of Yan's kids were adopted," Obi-Wan continues, sketching out the first branch away from the Yan/Sifo partnership. "Rael was actually grandfather's cousin, maternally, and ended up in his custody after getting orphaned at five. These days, he does most of the stewardship duties at the Serenno Duchy. His daughter Nim is teaching military history at a university in Germany."

Cody nods. "Uncle number one is named Rael, technically your dad's cousin, has a daughter. Got it."

"About a decade after Rael, they adopted my father, Qui-Gon. He and grandfather fought, frequently, but they did care for each other. My father was a botanist, did bio-engineering. We'll get back to him later, because he's where things get complicated." Obi-Wan made sure to leave room around the name. "Just a few years older than me was--is--Komari Vosa. She is... serving a life sentence. I think she fought Jango once."

"She fought my father?"

"To the best of my knowledge, they both almost died, yes," Obi-Wan says. "She's in maximum security these days. She was an assassin. I'll get a call if she breaks out, and I'll let you know along with everyone else."

"Bad news auntie, got it."

"Last adoption, sort of, is Ventress," Obi-Wan finishes off. "A few years younger than me, is technically grandfather's personal assistant and does secretarial work and the like, but we all know he's planning to leave as much of the inheritance to her as he is to the rest of us. She's aggressive and unpleasant, but she takes care of him and hasn't actually threatened to kill any of us yet, so that's fine."

"How'd she join?" Cody asks.

"Ky Narec was a friend of Qui-Gon's; Ventress was his daughter. Ky died a few years after Qui-Gon did, and Ventress was a mess, after." Obi-Wan shrugs and scratches that connection into the little sketch of a family tree as well. "Grandfather offered her a job until she got herself back together, and then she just kind of... stuck around."

"Youngest aunt, more of a cousin." Cody summarizes. "Now we go back to your father?"

"Qui-Gon Jinn was a man of many skills," Obi-Wan says drily. "Adequate birth control was not one of them."

It's almost a pity that Cody wasn't drinking anything, because going by the way he chokes, Obi-Wan's pretty sure the spit take would have been spectacular.

"I'm sorry," Cody says. "Can you repeat that?"

"I was an accident," Obi-Wan says, not even bothering to hide his smile. "So was Anakin."

"So that sounds like... a story."

"It is," Obi-Wan confirms. "My biological mother has never been in the picture. They had a fling, she wasn't sure if she'd want to abort or give me up, just that she wasn't ready to be a parent, and Qui-Gon volunteered to take full custody so she could go back to her life after the birth. I've never met her, but I kept her family name. You can consider her irrelevant beyond that."

Cody nods.

"So, when I was about a year old, Qui-Gon reconnects with an old flame, they get married two years later. Step-mother number one is Tahl. Lovely woman, I absolutely adored her, and she had a daughter, my stepsister, Bant Eerin."

"I met her, right?" Cody asks.

"Yes, she was the doctor who patched up my bullet wound a few months ago," Obi-Wan says. "With the giant glasses that make her look a little fish-eyed."

"She was nice."

"She is," Obi-Wan agrees. "At any rate, that was our family for a while, and then Tahl died when I was fourteen. Bant wanted to go to a magnet school for medical studies, and Qui-Gon's grief was... not optimal for taking care of multiple teenagers, shall we say, so Bant moved in with her paternal uncle, Kit Fisto, and Kit's son Nahdar. He's a marine biologist, incredibly friendly, and has no idea of any of the rest of my side of the family's questionable activities. If you ever meet him, you will pretend that we are a legal firm with a team of security consultants."

Cody raises a brow. Obi-Wan despairs. "Best you could do?"

"We're not that likely to run into him." Obi-Wan draws out a new line. "So, Qui-Gon deals poorly with grief. This is also around the time that Xanatos came around to ruin our lives a little. He was a very rich and unpleasant man, but he's dead as of four hours ago, so you don't have to worry about him. Or his son."

"His son?"

"Anakin handled that," Obi-Wan says. "Thoroughly. Granta Omega is no longer an issue. He's not dead, but... well. Anakin has his ways. Er--I should probably mention Feemor; he was my father's assistant at the university for a long time. Anakin and I still call him our uncle."

"Also a person to avoid mentioning criminal activity to?" Cody prompts.

"Well... no, but only because I don't think he'd care. The man is, forgive me, more of a 'walking sweatervest' than I am. He's a very bland and unassuming man. He once described himself as the background character of the soap opera that is my family's existence."

"Sounds like a charmer."

"Oh, he's very kind and clever, and witty as well. I adore him, and he really is family. He's just also very, very normal. Not boring, but..." Obi-Wan trails off and shrugs helplessly. "He's an editor for an agricultural research journal. Also not someone I anticipate us running into."

"Noted."

"Right, so, Qui-Gon dealing poorly with his grief didn't involve much drinking, but there were a few months of him trying to... lose himself in the pleasures of the flesh?" Obi-Wan tries, and then deflates at the look on Cody's face. "He was slagging around. Shmi got pregnant with Anakin, who was born when I was sixteen. Shared custody at first, Qui-Gon got him weekends and every other holiday, that sort of thing, and then they got married because they actually did like each other well enough, and it was easier on the taxes."

"So Shmi is stepmother number two."

"Shmi is stepmother number two, yes." Obi-Wan sketches in Anakin and Shmi. "About nine and a half years after Anakin was born, Shmi and Qui-Gon were in a car accident with... well, it later turned out it wasn't an accident, there was a hitman called Maul involved, he's actually Ventress's second cousin or something, I don't know. Grandfather handled most of that problem. Qui-Gon died, Shmi was in intensive care, and I got custody of Anakin as his nearest adult relative. We weren't very close before that, because I was off at university by the time he was old enough to form memories, but that changed once he started living with me. I more or less raised him as a single parent from that point."

"This is why he jokes that you're like a father to him."

"Precisely," Obi-Wan says. "Shmi took about a year to recover enough to move again, and grandfather covered the costs. She still had to live with a dedicated carer and attend daily physical therapy. At that physical therapy, she met Cliegg Lars, whose son Owen was also a patient there. They hit it off, and three years later, they married. When Anakin refers to his stepfamily he's talking about the Lars out in Nevada."

"Nevada?"

"They have a farm. A very, very normal one. We don't drag them into our activities, unless we have an at-risk person who needs a safe house." Obi-Wan pauses, and then decides this really needs to be stressed. "This is important to me and Anakin, that we don't get them involved unless there's absolutely no other choice. Shmi's been through a lot, and the Lars are busy enough running the farm."

"Works for me," Cody says. "We've got enough safe houses that it shouldn't be an issue. I'm guessing this story doesn't end there, though."

Obi-Wan grimaces. "My own love life has been... a bit of a mess."

"I already know about Kryze, at least."

There's that. "I was temporarily engaged to a friend, Siri Tachi, shortly after high school. We were in a relationship, but this was mostly something done to appease a relative of hers that was getting overbearing to the point of absurdity, and she couldn't just cut them off. We broke off the engagement after the relative passed, and we're still friends."

He notes that down, then adds the other embarrassment of his early years. "First marriage was actually a drunken joke between myself and my best friend when we were in college. We got it annulled a few months later because we just didn't have time to drop by the courthouse before then, and he's actually engaged to Asajj now."

"Asajj?" Cody asks, watching in fascination as Obi-Wan tries to mark in both his own short marriage and the newer, long-term engagement without crossing any lines. He settles for just writing the name twice and including an asterisk with 'this is the same person.'

"Ventress," Obi-Wan clarifies. "Yeah, Quinlan's a fun guy. His little sister, Aayla, treats Anakin like a beloved younger cousin."

"Are they also off-limits for criminal activity?"

"No, Aayla's the one that taught Ahsoka how to vent-crawl," Obi-Wan says. "And I'm pretty sure Quinlan has contacts in every major government branch, criminal organization, and Fortune 500 company on the planet. I reach out to them regularly."

"Resources, then."

Obi-Wan nods. "Some time later, I married Satine. We had a son; you've met Korkie. We split due to incompatibility a year and change before Qui-Gon's death. Satine doesn't engage in criminal activity, but Bo-Katan is..."

"I've met Bo-Katan. I know what she's like, Obi. You don't have to explain."

"She works with Maul sometimes."

"...the man who killed your father?"

"Yes. It's all very stupid and convoluted." Obi-Wan still writes her in. "So, that's them. Korkie goes to boarding school, and I try not to involve him in anything. Anakin and Ahsoka like to teach him self-defense and the like, but Satine is adamant that he stay unaware of my less legal dealings until he's an adult."

Cody shrugs. "Makes sense. Is that every--wait, no, Skywalker's married."

Obi-Wan grins. "Yes, and Padme's got twins on the way."

"I was there when he told us," Cody says drily. "He was very loud about it. Okay, how does Ahsoka fit in?"

"Hold on, I forgot Beru," Obi-Wan mutters. "Owen's fiancee. Same rules as the Lars. Okay, you asked about Ahsoka. Right. So. Um."

He dithers. Cody waits for him, and then Obi-Wan just gives up. "Ahsoka, dear, would you like to explain how you joined the family, so to speak?"

Ahsoka looks up from whatever she and the boys are doing--there are multiple beer glasses and straws and duct tape involved, and Obi-Wan doesn't really want to know--and then flips off the table and over to Obi-Wan and Cody. She looks over the family tree chart, and then says, "Oooh, did you tell him about the cult?"

"You were in a cult?" Cody demands.

"No, Komari was. She was head priestess or something. I dunno, it's why she's in prison and stuff."

"I did not tell him about the cult," Obi-Wan mutters, already regretting this. "The Bando Gora aren't a problem anymore. I've already gotten to explaining how you and Anakin know each other."

Ahsoka rolls her eyes, steals his pen, and starts sketching in around Quinlan's name, over by Asajj since Obi-Wan's section is too crowded. "Okay, so, Quinlan's adopted. His dad is Tholme, and Tholme's dad is Plo Koon. Plo Koon is good friends with my Auntie, Shaak Ti, who raised me. They live next door to each other, out in the country, and I'd play in his yard a lot, because he had puppies, and he took me to visit his bees. Whenever Auntie needed a babysitter, she asked Quinlan or Aayla to do it since she knew and trusted them, and Aayla needed pocket money."

"This is so unnecessarily complicated," Cody mutters.

"It is!" Ahsoka chirps. Her grin is far too sharp. "So, this one time, Aayla was watching me when I was fourteen, and she was just helping me with my physics homework. BAM, the door slams open, and in stumbled Skyguy with his arm missing. I've never met him before, and my first introduction is him shortly after he's gotten an unplanned amputation."

Anakin, on the other side of the room, giggles. Obi-Wan just sighs. The Fett brothers appear to be in the land of 'horrified fascination.'

Ahsoka revels in it. "There's blood everywhere, I'm screaming, Aayla's panicking, Anakin's halfway to unconscious and insisting we can't call the hospital, and nobody can get Obi-Wan on the phone. Quinlan's in another country, and Auntie Shaak and Uncle Plo are at a movie, so they've both got their cellphones off. Tholme was faking his death at that point to get away from an incident with the Irish Mob, so we didn't even try him."

"What the actual fuck," Rex breathes.

Ahsoka continues with relish. "We get Bant to pick up, and she's there an hour later with Padme, because Padme knows how to drive the way Skyguy does, and the entire drive there is just Auntie Bant on speakerphone telling Aayla how to stop the bleeding and get him stabilized while Padme's screaming at traffic at the top of her lungs."

"I owe Aayla a fruit basket," Anakin muses aloud. "The anniversary of her saving my life is coming up, it's warranted."

"Five years, baby!" Ahsoka crows. She fist-pumps.

Obi-Wan just drops his head into his hands. "You're killing me, children."

Anakin shrugs, grinning. "You know, I think Fett Senior might have been involved in that fight."

"My shitty dad cut off your arm?" Rex demands.

"No, I think he was busy fighting the Interpol guy," Anakin says. "But he was definitely there. I think. Blood loss kinda got to me after a bit, but I'm pretty sure Jango Fett was there, and also Boba might've been hiding in the getaway car?"

"I need another glass," Cody mutters. He doesn't stand up, though.

"Wait," Rex says. "So who cut off your arm?"

Anakin shrugs with an unsure noise. "Someone tried to convince me it was Grandpa Yan, but he was in the middle of a court case in Italy for some kind of parole violation when it happened, so he had an alibi."

"...did he actually violate parole?" Cody asks, and Obi-Wan thinks he looks like he doesn't know if he actually wants an answer.

Ahsoka shrugs. So does Anakin. Obi-Wan carefully looks at a spot behind Cody, and doesn't explain anything about wine tastings used as covers for illicit arms deals.

"The arm?" Rex prompts, sounding a little desperate to get back to the question he likely thinks is the most important.

"I still say it was Skeevy Sheev," Ahsoka chimes in.

"It wasn't Palpatine," Anakin snaps.

"Your creepy older friend who took you to operas and gives you fancy gifts and knows way too much about swords who was conveniently there to talk to the police and cover for you so you didn't get arrested for getting in the middle of a gang war in the first place, yes," Ahsoka says, dropping into a chair and sighing dramatically. "The guy who definitely hasn't been trying to convince you for a year and change that your wife is cheating on you with your older brother."

"Ahsoka!"

"What? He is."

"Anakin," Rex says, "your life sounds like a trainwreck."

"I'm not going to assume a frail, elderly man cut my arm off!" Anakin protests. "Even if he wanted to, he doesn't exactly have the muscle for it!"

"Grandfather's older," Obi-Wan points out, even though he knows it won't help. "And he definitely still could."

"Ha!" Ahsoka shouts.

"He could have hired someone?" Cody suggests. "Doesn't need to do it himself, if he has enough money."

Obi-Wan has a sneaking suspicion that Cody is deliberately stirring the pot as revenge for Anakin sending him eighty-seven cat memes inside an hour during last night's dinner.

"You all suck," Anakin declares. "Also, what the hell do you mean 'knows way too much about swords,' Ahsoka? You know way too much about swords!"

"Yeah, but I'm like ninety-percent sure that his antiques are Prussian and mid-century German military officer dress uniform relics, and pairing that with the Nazi pistols he's got on display--"

"He's just a history buff! And his family's German, of course he prioritizes that region, it's not like he doesn't have Russian or French or English antiques in there too, it's all sides of the war and--"

"I'm just saying he's almost definitely sending me sketchy glances like he thinks I'm planning to steal the silver on the three occasions you've had me with you when you stop by, and I'm pretty sure it's got less to do with my criminal record and more to do with me being, you know, not white."

Anakin looks ready to blow, so Obi-Wan interrupts. "Ahsoka, you were explaining how Anakin passing out on Aayla and scaring us all half to death led to your friendship?"

Ahsoka blinks at him, and then sticks her tongue out at Anakin and turns back to the chart. "So basically, Skyguy had to recuperate in Uncle Plo's living room for a week or two, and I kept showing up to bother him because he was bored and nobody would give him a laptop for 'security reasons,' because he had to lay low and stuff. He made me help him sketch out designs for a prosthesis and do all the writing for the math he had to do for the 3D printer, and we got to chatting."

Ahsoka hops up and back onto a table, legs swinging below her. "I decided he was cool and started following him around while he was getting used to only having one hand, mostly because I was bored. He showed me how to hotwire a car, and explained the best places to put a bug if you were looking to make it sneaky, and he picked my pocket to show off so many times when he was walking around Uncle Plo's house that I made him teach me that, too. And, uh, then Aayla found out and they got into a shouting match about it and decided they both needed to teach me parkour so I could get out of any mess I got myself into, since I was obviously going to follow them into a life of crime."

"And you did," Anakin says, far too proudly. "You're the best thief in this half of the country."

"Only because Aayla moved out east."

Anakin rolls his eyes and pulls Ahsoka into his side, digging his knuckles into her skull. "Best thief! You are the best thief! Be proud of yourself!"

"Let go!"

"Never!"

Obi-Wan sighed heavily and rubbed at his forehead. "Children, please."

"You're not my dad," Ahsoka growls out at him. "Skyguy, I'm going to bite you!"

"Good luck, the only arm you can access is the one that's going to break your teeth."

Ahsoka shrieks in outrage and stomps on Anakin's instep.

It's almost funny, for all that Obi-Wan's seen it play out a million times before, but the really interesting part is seeing Rex's look of fond dismay.

Obi-Wan thinks he might be adding a branch out to the Fetts soon. He's not actually sure if Rex is interested in Anakin or Ahsoka, and he's smack dab between them in age, so that's not a help either, but... well. The expression is familiar enough.

"Please tell me you don't match-make," Cody mutters to him.

"No, I plan to let the pieces fall where they will," Obi-Wan responds, just as low, and far more amused. "I'm simply trying to predict where those landings are to be."

Cody looks at him, and then back at the roughhousing trio, and sighs heavily. "You know, I really didn't think that you technically being minor royalty was going to be the least convoluted thing in your story, Obi-Wan."

He laughs, because it's true. "I'm first in line to inherit the title, since Rael denounced his claim. Nim isn't interested, and Qui-Gon's dead, so... I'm next."

Cody makes a face. "Delightful. I'm guessing that's not a connection we can safely make use of."

"No more than the Kryze or Naberries, I'm afraid." Obi-Wan claps him on the shoulder. "Chin up, I've plenty others in the metaphorical rolodex, all far less legitimate and far more amenable to work with our little outfit."

"Rolodex, really?" Cody snorts. "You're not that old."

Obi-Wan smiles winningly. "You don't know how old I am, Cody. All my IDs are fake."

"Anakin's twenty-four, and you're sixteen years older than him, going by the story you just told me," Cody points out. "I do know how to do basic math, Obi-Wan."

"I had to try," Obi-Wan admits. "I threw a lot of information at you all at once; I'd hoped you missed some of the ages in there."

"I have eight brothers," Cody scoffs. "And literally dozens of cousins, plus niblings, uncles, aunts, and so on. I have experience on this."

"If I asked you to list of the age of every single relative you have, you'd be able to do it?"

"Do you want me to draw a chart? I can draw a chart."

Obi-Wan can't help but laugh. "I'd be delighted, my dear."

Cody rolls his eyes, but Obi-Wan thinks--it's hard to tell in the dimmed lights of the closed bar--that there's a hint of a blush on the man's face. Obi-Wan lets himself slouch to the side, drops his head to rest on one fist, indolent debauchery in every line of his body. Cody does his best to ignore him, but Obi-Wan knows how to smile lazily and blink slowly and draw a man in.

(The whole 'indolent debauchery in every line of his body' phrasing is Anakin's, from back when he was a teenager trying to read highbrow literature to impress a cute girl... and to come up with new insults for his older brother.)

"So," Cody says, with a cough meant to somehow distract Obi-Wan from whatever's showing on the man's face. "Why, uh, why is your grandfather on terrorist watchlists?"

"Well, he didn't initially do anything," Obi-Wan says. "He was just a gay man who didn't hide it quite well enough, and had too much money and too white a face for someone to just call the cops on a faulty report. The Red Scare was technically over by that point, I think, but if a few people made suggestions that he was more loyal to the country that gave him a noble title than to the United States... he received a few warnings, of course, and it could have all blown over..."

"But?"

"But my grandfather is not a man to do things by halves, and instead decided that if the government was to list him as a threat, then he would oblige and make himself a threat," Obi-Wan finishes. "Living up to their labels, rolling with the assumptions, whatever you'd like to call it. It all irked him, and so he made some incredibly questionable decisions to make the government's lives harder. Some weren't bad, like donating to anti-war foundations that were protesting the Gulf War and the interventions in Yugoslavia, that sort of thing, and some were... nobody really looks well on gunrunning, you know."

"For fuck's sake..."

"Indeed," Obi-Wan chuckles. "Ironically, he has minimal opinion on the optimal form of economics, for all that virulent xenophobia and the remnants of anti-communism were involved in the whole mess. He just wanted to create problems for the people that were causing him problems."

Cody shakes his head. "I want to judge that, but you've met my father."

"Jango Fett is, indeed, also not a man to do things by halves," Obi-Wan agrees, attempting to nod gravely but breaking into a smile at the end. "That man is absurd."

"At least he's not dragging Boba into it anymore," Cody mutters. He drags over the fresh sheet of paper and pen that Obi-Wan offers him. "Okay, right, let's start with Jaster..."

[ragingbookdragon]

I'm Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 4

Batfamily x Batsis Story!

Word Count: 2K Warnings: Explicit Language, ALL THE ANGST Tags!: @itsnottilly @cloudyskylines @starflyer-104 @justine-en @iwillstaywiththemforever @weirdgirlfromtx @edlothia-baby @soul-end @notsostraightweeb @candlestudy

Author's Note: Some of y'all didn't tag so see if that's something on your end. Enjoy the angst and cliffhanger! -Thorne

Wally didn’t come into the coffee shop for almost two whole months after their fight—not that she blamed him—she was still vaguely upset with his harsh words. But she had to admit that she’d gotten used to his warm presence every morning, and not seeing him messed her up more than she thought it would. More often than not, she found herself absentmindedly staring at the door, waiting for him to walk in with that stupid grin on his face and proceed to boast and recall whatever exciting exploits he and his friends had accomplished earlier. It hurt not to see or hear him, and she realized that Wally had become the greatest friend she’d ever had.

Barry still came in though, and if he knew who she really was, he didn’t say anything because he still acted like he always did. So, even if Wally were still angry with her, at least he’d kept his word and not said anything to anyone about her identity. Which if she were honest, tasted bitter when she thought about the price she paid for his silence—his friendship.

It was getting colder again, which meant a lot more people were coming and going from the shop, so at least she could take her mind off her feelings for at least a few hours. Until she got home, and all she was left with were them and a whole lot of silence to think about them with. Sometimes she thought about calling Wally, at least to hear his voice. Hell, even if their last words to one another were frigid, she missed the interaction. She’d give anything to hear him, even taking another round of cold snipes and trades.

She heaved a sigh and wiped down the last few tables of the evening rush, smiling politely at the people who were still sitting at tables or so across. Today had been hectic and there’d been no let up of customers until the last hour of the shift. She’d never thought they’d run out of coffee, but it came close to that a couple hours ago.

The bell above the door chimed and with her back turned to the entrance, she didn’t see who came in, but with another barista at the counter ready to take the final orders of the evening, she didn’t particularly care. All she wanted to do was go home and crawl into bed. Sleep until hell froze over. That, or until her feet stopped hurting—whichever came first. She let out a quiet laugh that made her chest ache—Wally would’ve found that absolutely hilarious and probably shot back about how if anyone had the right to complain about their feet hurting, it would be him. God, she really missed Wally.

“Melisandre,” someone called quietly, and she glanced over her shoulder, eyes widening when she saw the familiar red head behind her.

Speak and the Devil will appear.

“Wally,” she breathed, voice thick with shock, and before she could stop herself, she was throwing her arms around his waist, squeezing him tightly.

He returned her hug in fold. “I guess I wasn’t the only one who missed this,” he quipped.

She huffed a laugh and pulled away. “Believe it or not, it doesn’t feel right when you don’t come around.” Her eyes narrowed almost sadly. “I’ve missed seeing you, Wally.”

“Same here,” he replied, then glanced at the clock above the espresso machines. “Are you almost off? I want to take you somewhere.”

Nodding, she took a look at her watch. “I get off in about ten minutes. Can you wait that long, or will you perish from boredom?”

“I think I can survive ten minutes, Melisandre,” he retorted and collapsed into one of the booths. “Hurry though, I don’t want to be late.”

She rolled her eyes and deadpanned, “Wally, I can’t speed time up. That’s not how that works.”

“Works for me.” He proudly stated.

“I wonder why?” she retorted sarcastically, then gave him a smile before wandering off to clean the last tables.

***

Despite the fact that Wally could run anywhere he wanted in less than a second, he still owned a vehicle and that was downright baffling in her opinion.

“Dick got it for me.” He suddenly said, shifting the car into drive and she blinked internally wincing at the mention of her brother.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I know you didn’t, (Y/N). But you were thinking it.”

“Uh huh,” she doubted and crossed her arms over her chest. “What am I thinking about right now?”

“Knowing you? Probably food, I know you like to ea—” he dissolved into laughter when she reached over and shoved at his side.

“No, I don’t you ass.”

“Really? Because I distinctly remember the time I took a fry off your basket and you looked at me like I’d killed your favorite dog.” (Y/N) glared at him and he pointed at her. “Yeah, that’s the look right there.”

“I don’t like sharing my food,” she said. “You should’ve known better.” Her eyes drifted to the windshield. “So, where are we going?”

“S.T.A.R. labs.”

(Y/N) cocked a brow and stared at him. “Really? S.T.A.R. labs? What’s there?”

Wally shrugged. “Wanted to show you a bit of what it’s like to be me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You mean you came to see me after all this time and the first thing we’re doing is going to a lab so you can show my what you do?”

His gaze momentarily darted to hers. “Is that a problem?”

“I dunno, I just figured we’d go eat a diner somewhere and apologize to each other.”

“Are you sorry?”

“Beg pardon?”

“Are you sorry? For all of the last three years?”

“Not particularly,” she griped, and he shrugged again.

“Then I’m not sorry for what we said to each other that night.” he let out a sigh. “But I’m willing to let it go, because I’d rather us just have a disagreement than lose what our friendship over it.” he looked at her. “What do you say?”

(Y/N) stared at him for a long moment, then she sighed and nodded. “…Yeah, I agree.”

Wally smiled. “Good.” He turned the wheel and pulled into the parking lot of the lab. “But there is food there for us, so you’ll be satiated anyways.”

“Hardy har har. Shut up, Wallace West,” she shot back, climbing out of the car. Her eyes traveled up the tall building. “Wow, this place is huge, isn’t it?”

She felt him stand next to her. “Yeah. Did you know they had to replace the glass windows a whole bunch of times because Barry and I kept shattering them when we’d run up ‘em?”

(Y/N) blinked, unsurprisingly stating, “No, I did not. But I can see that happening.”

He started towards the doors, leaving her to follow and soon they were stepping into an elevator. She watched him hit the rooftop button and she looked at him.

“If you’re showing me what you do, why are we going to the roof? Shouldn’t we be going to some laboratory inside?”

Wally chuckled. “Patience, young padawan.” He ignored her rolling eyes. “Food first.”

“Oh, dinner in the moonlight? Well, aren’t you just the romantic.” (Y/N) cocked her elbow on his shoulder and grinned. “Don’t tell me you fell in love with me all that time we spent away from each other?”

This time, he was rolling his eyes. “Hardly, (Y/N). I just figured you’d want a nice evening where you weren’t staring at your bland kitchen walls.”

She scoffed and pulled away from him. “Look, I’d paint and hang shit up but the landlord wouldn’t be happy.”

“Since when do you care about making people happy? You’re typically a ‘I’m going to make someone unhappy’ type of person.” Her eyes shifted to his and he waved a hand. “Not what you’re thinking about—I was talking about the coffee shop.”

For a moment, she didn’t say anything, then she hummed. “There’s nothing more fun than telling someone I’m going to get the manager and then do my magic little spin and cheerfully greet, ‘Hi, I’m the manager’.” She grinned. “Does wonders to see Karen’s little head explode.”

Wally chuckled and the elevator dinged. The doors split open, and they walked out onto the rooftop. Surprisingly, the roof was enclosed and lighted, giving her perfect vision and when her eyes fell on them, her heart seemed to stop in her chest, and her feet to a halt.

They stood from the table they’d been sitting at and with her heart hammering against her ribcage, she immediately spun on her heel, intent to flee back into the elevator, only to come chest to chest with Wally, who wrapped his arms around her waist—effectively keeping her in place.

Her feet were still moving on their own accord and she shoved against his chest, trying to get back to the lift. “Wally, move.”

“No, (Y/N),” he murmured, and she could feel her breath starting to come in and out in panicked spurts.

“Wally, please, I’m begging you, move.” She stared up at him and plead, “Please don’t make me do this. I’ll do anything, just please let me leave.”

His evergreen eyes were narrowed in pity, but there was a firmness that rested within that pity and he shook his head. “I can’t let you leave, (Y/N).”

“Wally, please,” she begged, arms starting to go limp against his chest, the tears flooding her vision. “Don’t make me do this.”

“You’ve gotta stop running, (Y/N).”

She couldn’t help the sob that escaped her, and she rested her cheek against his chest. “I hate you…so much.”

“I know,” he murmured.

“You’re a liar and I hate you.”

Wally sighed. “I know you do.”

(Y/N)’s face contorted in anger despite her pain. “I should’ve left the night we fought. I knew you wouldn’t be capable of keeping it from him. From any of them,” she sneered and suddenly pulled away from his grip, eyes flashing with rage.

“This wasn’t your right to tell!” she shouted at him and shoved him in the chest. Wally didn’t budge an inch and she shoved him again. “God, I was so naïve to assume you’d keep your fucking mouth shut! That’s one thing you’re not capable of doing!”

She growled and turned from him, running her hands over her face. “Three years of relative peace shot straight down the fucking drain,” she shot him a teary glower. “All because of you and your big bleeding heart for your best friend.”

Wally frowned. “I’m doing what I think is best, (Y/N).”

“Forcing me to meet them isn’t what’s best, Wally! I didn’t want to be found! I didn’t want to be associated with them again!” she snarled and in an instance her anger cooled, her shoulders drooping as she lamented, “…This wasn’t a decision you should’ve made. This was never your right to decide. For me…or for them.”

“Perhaps it wasn’t,” he agreed. “But if you weren’t going to draw the line in the sand, I was.”

(Y/N) met his gaze and held it for a long moment, then she turned her attention to the four men who were standing in front of the table, their expressions a mixture of regret, anger, and relief.

She let out a long sigh and reached up to rub at her temples. “Let me guess, I’m not allowed to leave until we’ve had our picture-perfect reunion scene?”

Wally nodded. “The elevator is sadly,” his hand shot backwards and with a sharp crackle of lightning, the light went out. “out of order.”

(Y/N) shook her head in disappointment at him then declared, “The next time I run, I’m settling in a city that has no superheroes.”

“Good plan,” he quipped. “But I don’t think there’ll be anymore running.”

She got up in his face and hissed, “Then you underestimate my feelings regarding the brothers and father before me.”

[anti-katsuki-lounge]

I came to re-watching the Stain arc and I realized something.

I recall honestly being so much more invested in Todoroki.

Within a single arc, I was put off by some mopey hard ass that didn’t care about anyone, to finding a lot of admirable qualities about him. He didn’t reach favorite, but I honestly was intrigued and liked his character, and wanted to see how he grew.

The Stain arc I feel was when he peaked, but even after that, his stoic and somewhat impersonal personality still was played off of others really well, especially Midoriya. Such as giving Midoriya advice on how to approach Kota’s personal situation, which gave Midoriya an idea on how to reach him. And him lowering his walls to others was gradual, but pleasant to watch happen. Despite not being very expressive a lot of the time, I still felt he had character.

Nowadays, Todoroki just…exists. When people say he has a cardboard personality, I agree with them. I legit don’t find myself to care about him as much as other characters and it actually makes me a little sad.

I don’t know if it’s because of Horkoshi cramming down our throats the Todoroki family drama, which honestly, I am unsure how I would’ve handled it. Or if during the remedial course and then from then on Horikoshi seemed to struggle with Todoroki’s personality traits. (He all of a sudden is super socially inept one scene, completely aloof to what is going with Midoriya and a certain someone in another, and just bland in other scenes. I think Horikoshi wanted to try to make him funny but they are too flat). Or (you know what’s coming) the fact he has been consistently forced to play the straight man to Bakugou’s chaotic asshole personality and still call him a friend. All the while still thinking that Endeavor is worst than scum. Hell maybe it’s all three.

I legit think the last time I gave a damn about Todoroki was the OVA where he and Tokoyami and the rest of the gang were trapped under a building. Those moments highlighted a lot of Todoroki’s best qualities and personal growths I’ve seen in the past, and those two came across as having a low key but honest friendship.

Now? He’s just a pretty boy that is part of a trio that is only made because they are OP instead of actual chemistry and history.

There’s two reasons I feel this is the case: first, Hori struggles with dropping characters after their arc is over. Tenya’s been relegated to background character status instead of being in the OG trio. The Big Three have barely done anything after their initial appearance except for showing how tough the villains are. Shoto’s unfortunately fallen for this too. His arc arguably peaked during the Stain fight where he began using his fire and working with others. The whole thing with Inasa was dumb and his fight with Dabi is more-so a conclusion rather than a peak (and it also ties into Endeavor’s arc).

Second is cause of Katsuki’s immense screen time. Again, we don’t see Tenya much, Ochako shows up not that often, and Shoto’s also been relegated to side duty. Coincidentally this also happens when Katsuki begins to get more screen time. Hori’s definitely shelving everyone else for his fave.

[rostovs-lover]

dalí on tuesday

charlie dalton x reader | cursing, smoking, brief mentions of sexual things, charlie (probably) has daddy issues, cameron | she/her pronouns | fluff | wc.2562

i am in love with charlie, this is now a charlie dalton centric blog, also ignore how terrible the title is please

anon : Hi!! I love your blog! can I request a charlie Dalton x reader fluff where reader is an artist and he visits them while they're painting? (maybe they end up wiping paint on his face?) I don't know, something really sweet at cute <33333

Charlie Dalton had been resigned to relish in small pleasures to keep himself sane at school, never did he think the library would be one of those. More specifically, the painter tucked into the basement of the library. 

                            ───☮︎───

     Charlie Dalton was a connoisseur of many things. Pretty girls, expensive wine, shitty poetry, and hand rolled cigarettes - to name a few. His imprisonment at Wellington made only one of those things readily available. So he settled - boxes of cheap smokes bought through upperclassmen, bottles of grocery store wine someone would sneak in from a party, and the two girls that occasionally came with Knox. The shitty poetry was always on deck, he had that at least. It was a tragedy to be resigned to such a bland life, there was absolutely no carpe diem-ing happening in a school that held adolescent boys to uniforms.

      It was miserable, truly, but Charlie scrapped by on the thought that soon enough there would be no more stuffy Catholic school and he could finally have a taste of freedom. In the meantime, he would have what little fun he could. The meets in the cave were always the highlight of the week. A place where he could talk and people would listen, and not because they had to but because they enjoyed it. They enjoyed his words and thoughts and presence. No one else had ever really seemed to enjoy Charlie’s presence. They could tolerate it, handle it, but they always had more pressing matters. A business meeting to attend, a bill to pay, a dinner to go to. Always something just a little bit more important and never quite enough time for Charlie. But the other Dead Poets, they valued him. He wasn’t just a kid, a college tuition to pay and a life to layout. He was a person, with interests and hobbies.

      It had been there, in the safe haven of the cave, that the idea for the library first came up. Meeks had already talked Pitts into coming, Neil didn’t take much convincing at all, Todd was also easy to lure, Cameron groaned about leaving school grounds but refused to be left out, and Knox agreed to go but only if Nuwanda came too. Charlie had already started to cover what there was to do at a library, read?

      Meeks dove into the technical manuals and Pitts followed tentatively, cradling their science project in his arms. Todd had followed Neil to the S authors, Cameron was trying to chat up the woman at the register, and God only knew what Knox was doing. He had been stranded with few options. He could find the geniuses and be talked over for the next hour or third wheel Neil but that guaranteed intruding on something he probably shouldn’t. The polite thing to do would be to rescue Cameron from making a complete fool of himself, throwing bad pick up lines at a clearly uninterested college student, but it was amusing to watch.

      Charlie settled on trying to find Knox, at least then he could have some company. Said company was absolutely nowhere to be found. The rows of shelves wound in a confusing maze and Charlie was lost before he could even begin to look. Weaving around he did come face-to-face with a rather large picture of Charles Dickens that made him recoil. It was perched just at eye level above a short staircase and it seemed to judge his every movement. Charlie followed the carpeted stairs down to escape Mister Dickens’ strange little beard and beady black eyes.

      The further down the steps Charlie descended the brighter it appeared. The lower level was the children’s section. Considerably more fun than science books or Shakespeare. The big oak counter was abandoned but the lights were still on. He was alone, still.

      Charlie sighed, sitting down in one of the bright red wooden chairs. He was much too big for it but it held well under his weight. A sad stuffed bear stared dully into him from the green glossy table.

      “Well hello,” He mumbled, picking it up under the arms, “And you must be?” He cleared his throat to take on a gruff baritone, “Mister... Bearington,” Charlie sighed, that was bad. He dropped the bear into his lap, “This is so stupid,”

      “Bearington?”

      Charlie shot around in the chair, tipping himself off center and stumbling to his feet, bear still clutched in his arms, “Where the hell did you come from?”

      “A few blocks over, walked here actually.” You turned back to your work. A painting. Not just a painting, Charlie realized, a mural. It stretched the length of the wall, roughly sketched in pencil and waiting to be finished.

      He blinked, “That’s good. The wall I mean,”

      “Thank you,” Your face flustered and Charlie took notice, “It’s not much of anything yet, just an outline. It’ll look better painted.”

      He took a few steps closer, sidling up to you, “What’s it supposed to be?”

      “A forest,” You pointed to a rotund blob perched on a long line, “That’s an owl, and there’s going to be a fox somewhere down in the grass,”

      Charlie grinned, “That’s an owl?”

      “That-” you tapped the blob, “Is a shape, objectively. Subjectively, it’s an owl.”

      His brow creased, “Subjectively it’s an owl? That's like saying Mister Bearington is a rabbit, subjectively,”

      You stared at him, baffled. It was almost irritating that he could so casually come down to your domain and invade your creative bubble. And it was even worse that he talked to himself as a stuffed bear but now he was challenging your judgment on what was and was not subjectively an owl. But he had a wonderful smile and it lessened the intrusion. Plus, you had never seen a teenage boy develop an attachment to a stuffed bear as quickly as he had, “What’s your name?”

      “Nuwanda,” He grinned, setting his chin atop his bear’s plush head.

      “Nuwanda?” You blinked at him, “That’s… neat. I’ve never heard that before.”

      “What can I say? The only Nuwanda this side of Vermont. What’s your name?”

      As you opened your mouth to answer several sets of footsteps thundered down the stairs. Knox spun around the corner first, closely followed by Pitts and Meeks.

      “Charlie!” Knox called, “We gotta go before Cameron proposes to the clerk.”

      You looked at the boy in front of you, “Is Charlie short for Nuwanda, or just a nickname?”

      He shrugged, “I’m Nuwanda, subjectively. It was truly a pleasure meeting you. Can’t wait to see your thing DaVinci!” He set the stuffed bear back on the table as he made his way out of the room. With Charlie’s energy gone it became much quieter and you were plunged back into the impressionistic outline of your artwork.

      The next time a library trip was suggested Charlie didn’t completely dread it. Yes, it was still numbingly boring because it was a library and he didn’t have clerks to fall in love with, people to write love letters to, anyone to kiss in the aisles, or a spaceship to build, but he did have his own personal Van Gough to torment.

      The lower level was the first place he went, not even hanging his coat on the rack inside the big double doors. He made his way past Cameron’s preoccupied receptionist and under Dickens’ hard glower. Halfway down the steps, the smell hit Charlie. Wet paint.

      You had just picked out a brush when he pulled one of the wooden chairs next to your station. He sat in it backwards, holding Mister Bearington out in front of him, “Never got your name Monet,”

      “Well, it's not that. Or Da Vinci.” You stroked the brush up the grassy outline.

      “Do you want me to guess?”

      You had yet to look at him, “Nope,”

      “Are you gonna tell me?”

      “Should I?”

      “Obviously, I told you my name.”

      You set the brush down and turned to face him, “(Name).”

      “Pretty,”

      Charlie Dalton liked many things and the musty old library uptown had never been one of them. It had ancient red carpets and gaudy gold ceilings and it was trying too hard to look regal. So it was a sheer shock when he began to leap at the suggestion of going and even more so when he chose to go by himself one afternoon. Naturally, the other poets followed him, they had to.

      Charlie didn’t dally upstairs, waving hi to the clerk and rushing down to the children’s section. A sign was posted outside the entrance warning of wet paint but he stepped around it.

      “You’re making progress Picasso!” He set his hands on his hips and took in the wall.

      You turned back to look at him, “Did you not see the caution: wet paint, do not enter sign?”

      “Oh no I saw it,” He pushed his sunglasses up on top of his head, “It's bright orange, hard to miss, really,”

      “So you just chose to ignore it?”

      He nodded, making his way over to sit by you on the ground, “I choose to ignore lots of things, it really makes life easier,”

      You shook your head, “Are you just going to sit here and bother me?”

      “Yes, that's actually the whole reason I came today, believe it or not.”

      You blubbered in vague disbelief, “Please tell me you’re not serious,”

      “Dead serious,” Charlie grinned, leaning closer, “I had to see how your weird owl was going. And also make sure you hadn’t gone mad and cut your own ear off yet,”

      “You’ve already used the Van Gogh joke, Charles,”

      “Maybe I want your ear,”

      You paused, “You… what?”

      Charlie’s confidence cracked, “That was bad. Shit, that wasn’t supposed to sound that way. It was like, a bad pickup line? Because Van Gogh cut his ear off to send to his girlfriend,” He sighed, shaking his head, “Sorry,”

      “I mean if I had to pick someone to give my ear too I guess you would be my first choice?”

      Charlie looked at you, eyebrows pinched together, “Why?”

      You shrugged, “No one else has asked, first come first serve.” You dipped your brush back into the blue paint and went to work on a patch of flowers.

      “Huh, well I do appreciate it,” Charlie scooted closer, leaning over your shoulder. He was close, very close. When you took a breath you could smell his cologne and whatever it was he used in his hair and you could feel the edge of his sunglasses brush your ear. He brought an arm around to dip his finger into the soft sky colour on your palette. And then he wiped it on your nose.

      You gasped sharply at the foreign feeling, snapping your head to the side to glare at him, “Why?!”

      Charlie snickered, leaning back, “The opportunity presented itself, how could I just let that pass?”

      You reached back, squirting a touch of purple paint over the palm of your hand, “That was truly a horrible idea,”

      Charlie shot up just as you did, stumbling backwards, “I’m sorry-” He stuck his hands up in surrender, “I regret my actions and if I could take them back I would,”

      “Hmm, but you can’t” You took a step closer, “Surrender now and it doesn’t have to get any messier than this,”

      He pointed towards your paint coated hand, “Do not,”

      You grinned, “I might,”

      “I’m begging,”

      “Fine-” You offered him your other hand, “Truce?”

      Charlie mulled it over for a moment, “Fine, truce,” He grabbed your clean hand and you used it to pull him towards you.

          “Why on earth would you trust me?” You tugged him even closer as he shrieked and smeared your hand down his cheek, “There, now we’re even,”

      Getting distracted by your triumph gave Charlie the upper hand. He pulled you to him the same you had done to him and pressed his cheek flush to yours. The paint was cold against your skin and you jolted back, away from him.

      “Vile,” You hissed, “You are vile and evil. That's so cold. You will pay, I hope you know that.”

      Charlie snorted, “Oh please, what’re you gonna do?”

      “You underestimate me, you ass, I’ll figure something out,”

      “Will you?” Charlie grinned, “I will be waiting in anticipation,”

      “You better be,”

      Meeks elbowed back into Cameron’s ribs, “You’re going to knock me over,”

      Cameron craned his neck further to peek around the corner into the children’s section, “I just want to see, let me look,”

      “Nothing is happening-” Meeks snipped, “They’re just talking now and I might be able to hear if you could can it!”

      Cameron rolled his eyes, “Of course, whatever you say,”

      “Will you shut up?” Knox batted at Cameron’s shoulder, “They’ll see us, we’re not super well hidden,”

      “If you don’t stop talking they’ll realize we’re here,” Pitts mumbled, rolling his eyes. Cameron started to rebuttal, turning to look at Gerard but the motion knocked Meeks out of place and he gasped, stumbling forwards. This did indeed draw Charlie’s attention.

      “Meeks, what the hell?” Charlie snapped. He was in a state, sunglasses askew in his hair, paint smeared from his cheekbone down to the corner of his mouth, and his shirt was wrinkled away from his collarbone.

      Meeks stared, “Hi Charlie. Are there any textbooks down here, uh… the science ones?”

      Knox groaned, stepping out from behind the wall as well, “We wanted to see why you came here on a Tuesday afternoon by yourself,”

      Charlie blubbered, “Did you all come? Is Keating there too?”

      “He could be,” Meeks shrugged.

      Charlie rolled his eyes, “Will you leave, I’ll be upstairs in a second,” The other poets nodded, scampering up the steps to the first level.

      “Assholes, should have known they’d come,” Charlie sighed, adjusting the sunglasses atop his head, “I need to go before they decide to intrude again. I’ll see you soon though, anxiously anticipating payback,”

      He was almost out the door when you bucked up the courage to call out to him, “Charlie, wait.” You let him turn back to you before continuing, “Could I have your phone number?”

      He clicked his teeth, “Don’t have one, private school. But I’ll find the library number in the books and try to shoot you a call sometime,” He winked and started back up to his friends.

      Knox was waiting at the landing with a handful of tissues, which he shoved into Charlie’s hands, “So you’re gonna read your stupid poem about tits at a Dead Poets meet and then not tell us you’ve got a girlfriend?”

      Charlie grabbed the tissues, “Not my girlfriend, I meet her like two weeks ago,”

      “Didn’t stop Knox,” Neil elbowed him.

      Charlie wiped at his face, “Well I’m not Knox. I like her painting, she's good.”

      “It looks like she was painting you,” Cameron slapped at Charlie’s chest and he threw the tissues at him in retaliation.

      “Shut up, at least my library worker actually talks to me,”

      Cameron fumbled with the dirty material, batting it away from his chest, “You dick!”

      Charlie grinned, pulling his glasses down and starting towards the door. Something about it was thrilling, having this to himself. A little secret that he and you shared. His personal Salvador Dalí, something to look forwards to besides bad tobacco and Keating’s eccentric lectures. It was bright and exciting and he felt seen. He felt important. The blue paint he had stolen from your tray was still on the tip of his pointer finger and he wondered how long it would be until he could see you again.

 ( @interwebseriesfan24 )

[inkandpen22]

Permanent Chaos (5/?)

Pairing: MGK x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: none

Part Summary: Colson and Y/N talk over coffee and Colson shows her a hint of what it’s like to be a part of his world. 

Masterlist

The Starbucks in the courtyard has since emptied out with everyone having to return to work after their breaks. Colson and I are two of the only remaining people inside. My hands are wrapped around cup, it’s nice and warm. I had to remove the lid to cool down the substance. We’ve been going back and forth, sharing facts about ourselves. 

"Have you always wanted to be an actress?” 

Studying the dark brown drink in my cup I recall memories from before I moved here.“No, in all honesty. I never saw myself as an actress.” 

He doesn’t try to hide his surprise. His stunned reaction makes me giggle. 

"If you don’t mind me asking, why do you do it then?” 

I sway my head from side to side. “It sorta just worked out. I was out shopping with my mom one day when I was in high school. Nicole approached us. She was in town on business and encouraged me to at least visit Los Angeles so we could set up a meeting. The next thing I knew I was in auditions and I got my part on The Seasons of Life a few months later.” 

“Wow,” his brows remain raised as he glances down at his drink. “If you weren’t acting what would you be doing?”

Sitting up straight, I remember what I once thought was my dream life. “First I would go to college and…” I wave my hand, dismissing the thought. 

Colson presses for me to say it. “you’d what? Come on!” He chuckles, grinning brightly. 

Rolling my eyes, I tell him. “I’d go to art school.” I bite my lip timidly. “Yeah... that would be nice.” I pick at the cardboard wrap on the cup. 

There’s a comfortable silence between us until I change the subject. “Enough about me! What about you? If you weren’t a singer, where would be right now?” 

He looks over in the distance, almost envisioning where his life would be. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” he shrugs but is pleased, “I’ve always loved music. Being in music allows me to do what I love.” 

I nod, almost impervious of him and his contentment. 

“However,” he adds pointing at me. “If it were up to my parents, I would have some office job probably.” 

"Eh, those jobs are so bland. I vote you stick to concerts," I giggle. 

He laughs and it’s contagious. 

My gaze lands on his arm as he reaches for his coffee. His entire arm is covered in ink. I was taught by my parents to despise tattoos. My mom would say, “why would anyone ever be willing to damage their body like that?” Finn jumped on that bandwagon. Whatever Mom says is considered fact to him. For the longest time, I agreed with them. That is until I met Colson. He was made to have tattoos. 

 I’ve seen many people in this city with tattoos but his aren’t just markings for the body, they’re art. 

“Which one are you interested in?” He questions, watching me as I admire them. 

“All of them,” I mumble, examining each one individually in awe. 

Back where I’m from tattoos are frowned upon quite frankly. When you grow up in a place no different than Pleasantville, that’s what you get. Especially, in South Carolina. 

“Do you have any?” He asks with amusement in his voice. 

I shake my head rapidly, “never in a million years!” Comprehending how he could take my response as an insult I’m quick to explain. “I mean, I would never be allowed.” 

His brows scrunch together. "Never been allowed? You’re an adult. Who’s stopping you?” 

I can’t help but snicker a little. If only it was as simple as he makes it sound. “My parents, brother, Nicole, Steph..." 

Colson narrows his eyes at me as he leans forward in his chair. “You’re your own person. You should be able to make your own decisions.” His argument is lacking and quite frankly too optimistic. 

“It’s complicated…” My eyes fall onto my fingers picking at the cardboard rim of my coffee cup. 

“If you say so… except all of them are keeping you from expressing yourself.” 

I roll my eyes as my lips form a smirk. It’s unbelievable, he makes everything sound so black and white. “You’ll never understand,” I conclude. 

“I understand more than you think.” 

Lifting my eyes up, he stares at me with a sincere expression. 

“Prove it,” I challenge him. 

Based on the change of his features, I have given him exactly what he wants.

"If you say so, Princess," he chuckles, rising from his chair. I stare at him in confusion and he offers me his hand. "You coming?" 

I smirk, slipping my hand into his. He grins and bites down on his lower lip. I'm going to regret this. 

_______________________________________________

Driving around with a guy I’m only acquainted to is completely unlike me. Everyone who knows me would be beyond freaked out at the current scene. It's kind of riveting. 

“We’ve been driving for almost an hour," I snicker. 

“It’ll be worth it, trust me!” 

“Where exactly are we going?” 

“The mystery is half the fun!” Colson enjoys the antics. 

I reach forward and change the radio station. Yungblud's "Parents" plays and I leave it. "Love this song," I mumble to myself. 

Colson glances over me, evidently surprised. "You know Dom's music?" 

"What? Just because you view me as a 'goody-two-shoes' doesn't mean I live under a rock." I giggle and hold my finger for him to wait a second. He chuckles. I begin to rap the lyrics from memory. "Yeah, the teacher fucked the preacher. But then he had to leave her. Had to wash away the sins of a male cheerleader. Hi, nice to meet ya, got nothing to believe in. So let me know when my breathing stops!" 

Colson turns up the volume to blasting and we then shout the chores together. I can’t remember the last time I had the chance to drive with the windows down, blasting music, and acting my age. I’ve forgotten what’s it like to just be a young girl, not working all the time. 

Once the song fades out, he turns down the volume. 

"So, she can rap too!" Colson looks at me, rather impressed. 

I dismiss his compliment with a wave of my hand. "Only if I've listened to a song a dozen times." 

"Not gonna lie, that was hot," he chuckles. 

Warmth rushes to my cheeks and I struggle not to smile. My head rests against the window as I watch the ocean become a blur as we drive down the PCH. 

_______________________________________

Colson drives down the road until there’s a dead end. To my surprise and then confusion, he parks the car. 

“We’re here!" He announces before jumping out of the car. 

There’s nothing here. Bushes, sad-looking trees, and dirt. I watch as he walks over to a clearing between some bushes. 

He peers over his shoulder. “You coming?” 

I take a deep breath and swing open the door. Following him to wherever we are, I spot a sign. 

                                   No Trespassing! 

“Hey Colson, that sign said no trespassing. We should go back.” 

He doesn’t even slow down as he walks down a weak path. “I’ve seen it, they never do anything.” 

With every passing moment, this road trip becomes more and more out of my comfort zone. Nicole and my entire team for that matter have guided me to prefer the indoors these past few years. I can’t remember the last time I spent an entire day outside in nature or not following a schedule. 

There’s a light at the end of the tunnel when the brush ends and the path opens up to a clearing. The sound of waves hitting the cliff before us echoes throughout the area. 

I cautiously step closer to the edge and look down to the bottom. “Wow!” I say to myself breathlessly. 

Colson peers down to the shoreline beside me. He then suddenly removes his jacket and moves on to his shirt. 

My jaw drops and I quickly direct my attention to the coastline far from him. I bring my hand to the side of my face shyly, blocking my sight of him undressing. “What the hell are you doing?” 

He chuckles behind me. I’m glad he can find so much amusement in my discomfort. “Cliff diving!” He says a matter of factly. 

“What! No you couldn’t! It’s illegal in these parts! You could get killed!” 

“Or, I’ll jump, have loads of fun and do it again!” He debates. 

I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. “Fine, you live out your death wish. I won’t be participating!” Whipping around and avoiding even sharing a short glance with him, I stomp toward the direction we came. 

He drops his shirt on top of his jacket in the grass and jogs to catch up to me. He squeezes my shoulder, using the other hand to plea with me. I whip my head around to face him. That's when I notice his tattoo-covered chest. 

“Oh let’s do it, Princess!" He encourages. "It’ll be thrilling! An adventure! Reckless! Something different!” 

Did he just call me Princess? No one has ever called me that and he has twice now. 

Colson takes my hand into both of his and I’m thrown off by the action.  “Be spontaneous with me,” he requests softly. 

Currently, I’m debating with myself. The youthful part of me is screaming ‘hell yes! Let’s do this!’ The businesswoman part of me is wiser than to take such a risk. I check over at the edge again. My willingness to do such a rebellious action is new to me. There’s no one here to see us. Paparazzi isn’t around to take pictures. Perhaps the cause of my newfound bravery is because of him. 

I take a deep breath and nod. “Okay, let’s do it.” 

As if he already knew I would eventually accept, his grin only grows. 

“Well then, I suggest you strip unless you prefer to sit around like a wet dog for the hour ride back.” He winks at me, biting his lower lip. 

In a normal case, I would be insulted by such a forward request but considering where we stand I find it humorous. After thoroughly checking the area for any cameras or strangers, I slip my dress over my head then kick off my wedges. An odd feeling stirs in my stomach and my heart is pounding. My comfort zone is shot to hell. 

Tossing my hair up in a ponytail, Colson scans my appearance. 

“Excuse me Mr. Baker, it’s not nice to stare,” I tease, yanking at my finished ponytail to tighten it. 

Unfazed, he snaps out of it and faces the shore. His hair wisps around in the breeze, falling over his face. The perfect strands are just as light as his eyes. His jawline could cut a diamond. His skin, as smooth as porcelain but covered in various tattoos. 

“Excuse me Miss Voss, it’s not nice to stare,” he repeats my words back to me. 

I snap out of my daze. “Wasn’t staring,” I argue, now turning towards the coast. 

“Nothing to be ashamed of, I know I'm hot.” His lips curve into a loose smirk. 

My time with him is often one big eye roll. I slowly approach the edge of the cliff, peering over. 

“Nervous?” He checks, looking down at the water for himself. 

“Nope." I lie. 

“Scared?” 

“No.” 

“Have you jumped from a cliff before?” 

I exhale deeply. “No.” 

He shifts his body to face me and I flicker my eyes to the side to meet his gaze. 

“And you’re not afraid?” He checks. 

“Not at all,” I admit without hesitation. 

He snickers, whether it be because he’s impressed or he doesn’t believe me. “How come?” 

I shrug, a brief hum for an answer escaping me. “The unknown doesn’t scare me, only challenges me… and I love a challenge,” I wink with a sly grin. 

His warm hand interlocks with mine and I nearly yank mine away yet because of the non-threatening look in his eyes, I stay. In fact, a part of me likes the feeling of his large hand in mine. It makes me feel safer than I have in quite some time. 

“On three” he exhales, staring off into the distance. 

I nod. 

“One," he counts. “Two...”

I exhale. I can't believe I'm doing this! 

"Three!" Colson shouts. 

I jump. Out of instinct, I squeeze Colson’s hand tighter. My voice travels in a scream as the two of us fall towards the crystal blue surface. He was right, this is such a rush! We torpedo into the water and the cold temperatures engulf me. Colson and I lose touch at some point then I kick to the surface. Wiping the excess water from my face, Colson pops up from under the water in front of me. Somehow even when wet and disheveled his hair still appears effortlessly pristine. 

“Wasn't that a rush!” His arm snakes around my waist. 

A part of me is begging for me to protest but I suppress that part of me. Instead, I rest my arms over his shoulders. He takes the opportunity to guide my legs around his waist. Shading my eyes from the sun with my hand I measure the height of where we jumped. 

Still struggling to catch my breath, I can’t help but smile widely. “It was a one-time opportunity!” 

“That’s up to you to decide!” he argues wittily. 

I lower my hand and his blue eyes see right through me. My eyes flicker down to his lips and impulsively, I slam my lips to his. I'm not sure what comes over me, but I needed to kiss him. Colson wastes no time, bringing a hand behind my head, deepening the kiss. We break apart only to catch our breath. 

“I believe you’ll prove to be a bad influence,” I say lightheartedly but between the lines with the utmost seriousness. 

“That depends on how you look at it,” he argues, his breathing inconstant.

Hungrily, he brings his lips back to mine and I melt into it. Colson is everything that’s bad for me. He’s an indulgence that’s disguising itself as a need. He’s toxic and I’m ignoring the warnings. The warmth of his palm radiates onto my face as he cups it. 

Against my lips, he grins. “You were spontaneous! Always be spontaneous!” His words, nearly sounding like a beg, settle in me. 

His crystal blues eyes stare into mine and I can’t help but be addicted. I'm falling for a fairytale.

________________________________________

Masterlist

Tags:  @canyoubuymetoast​ @bri-3530 @asil1652 @andstilltryingtofindmyself @nadia2021 @olafsidehoe @mgkobsessed @fairywriting101 @ferrell-cat @naylanae-0308 @tonystarkswife10 @alexsa56 @brocksbabyyy @stormrider505 @magnificenthumancopangel @sarcasticfangirlus @lilramencup95beech @missyviolet123 @skeleton-gxrl @glitterybearllamaflap @margaritaville20 @amoresixx @thysagclub​ @hockeybabe87​

[im-in-vin-ci-ble]

Heyy could I possibly request f!OC x Mark, in which the OC is Red Rush’s daughter who also inherited his powers. Set before the events of episode one maybe at a Guardian’s work party or smth. Mark and OC are hitting it off in a ‘Idk what’s going on my dad just works here’ solidarity during the party; while her doting and protective father Josef is keeping an eye on them, unsure about how he feels about his favorite sidekick growing up on him. Maybe Olga and Debbie try to be matchmakers too lol

A/N: okay well this is CUTE AF, I love this sm thank u for requesting <3 also josef and olga are married here, no one dies (yet) and everyone is happy!!!

Pairing: Mark Grayson x Fem!OC

Rating: T

Warnings: mild swearing

The annual Guardians of the Globe Founder's Day party was never really Zasha's scene. It mainly consisted of the Guardians and the Global Defense Agency's families, and more often than not, she was the only one in her age group. Her true purpose there was to really just pay her respects to the people — including her father, who people knew as Red Rush — who protected the planet.

This year's Founder's Day event was different, however, as Omni-Man finally accepted the party invitations he'd been ignoring for years. Although there were jokes that he had accidentally RSVP'd to the party, or that his wife had accepted the invite behind his back, everyone seemed happy, and still pleasantly surprised, when he and his family walked in.

Sitting down with a non-alcoholic beverage in her hand, she watched as everyone shook hands with the powerful Nolan Grayson and his loving family. Zasha's mom, Olga, walked over to say hello and immediately dragged the three to where Zasha and Josef were. The two male superheroes first exchanged pleasantries, followed by Olga forcing her daughter to get up so she can properly be introduced to the teenage boy standing across from her.

"Zasha, hi," Debbie said with a wide smile as she gave you a warm hug. "This is my son, Mark. I don't think you two have properly met yet."

He extended his arm, "Oh, hi, uh, I'm Mark," he replied with a sheepish smile.

"Hi, I'm Z," she said as Olga gave her a soft push to move her forward. The young girl's eyes threw daggers at her mom before politely shaking his hand, "Nice to meet you."

"Are you all hungry? They've got a lot of food," Olga told the Graysons, leading them and Josef, who squinted his eyes at Zasha and Mark, over to the buffet table.

Zasha and Mark looked at each other awkwardly and exchanged nervous smiles. He began to rock back and forth on his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets as he attempted to think of what to say.

"So uh, how's... superhero training?" he asked.

"Uh, good," Zasha answered, nodding her head. "We managed to take down Titan yesterday so that was pretty cool."

"Oh yeah? That's great," Mark exclaimed. "How about, um..." he scratched the back of his head, "Is the, i-is the drink... good?"

She looked down at her cup and clicked her tongue, "You know for a party that's sponsored by the government, you'd think they'd have better catering."

He chuckled, "If I knew this was going to be a boring party with adults and toddlers and no good food, I would have at least brought a snack and some comic books."

Zasha sat back down and looked up at him with a smile, "Well you better take a seat, buddy, because the next few hours are going to make you wish you were being hurled at buildings instead."

She gently patted the seat next to her and Mark accepted the offer. "Do you go to these things a lot?" he asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," Zasha replied. "You are so damn lucky your dad never wants to come to a Guardians event."

Mark laughed, "You know what, I used to be really jealous of all the families who got together during these events but right now, I'd do anything to just go home." He looked around and sighed, "I don't even know most of these people."

"Me too, and I've seen their faces at least thrice a year ever since I could remember," she agreed. "Actually, I think this is the first solid conversation I've had with someone at these things."

"Really?" he asked in shock.

"Really," she answered, taking a sip of the bland orange juice that now mostly tastes like water. "Most of the guys who are my age that have attended aren't really cute, nor are they interesting, so meh."

Mark's head snapped up at that remark and he felt the warmth rush up to his cheeks. "The other guys aren’t... cute and not... interesting?"

"Hell no," Zasha laughed. "Have you ever tried connecting with a person who has no special abilities but know you're a superhero? It feels like talking to a wall."

He crossed his brows, "What do you mean?"

She sighed and leaned forward, "They usually ask me what being a superhero is like, but when I tell them that I managed to take down a man with rock for skin, it's like I'm a freak."

"You're not a freak, Zasha," he replied. "And any guy who feels that way about a girl who's trying to save others sounds like a shitty person."

"And they're not even cute!" she added.

"And they're not even cute," he repeated after her with a laugh.

Zasha sighed again and sat back up. She looked over at him and briefly examined his face, "Well it's a good thing you are."

Josef turned around and watched as the 17-year-old boy chatted up his daughter, as well as literally take his seat at the table.

He held on to Olga's arm and leaned in, "I don't like what I'm seeing over there."

Olga turned to look then laughed at her overbearing husband. "They're just talking, Josef," she said. "It's not Zasha's fault she can enjoy a pleasant conversation and you can't."

"Mm..." Josef groaned, "I don't like it."

"Don't like what?" Debbie asked from behind.

Olga walked over to her and excitingly yet subtly pointed at Zasha and Mark, who were now facing each other now laughing. "Josef's worried that Zasha won't have time to be his daughter anymore if she ever started dating boys," she explained to Debbie. "You know he scares off every single boy Zasha introduces to us? I'm worried she'll never have a boyfriend!"

"She doesn't need a boyfriend, Olga," Josef chimed in grumpily, crossing his arms as he watched the two like a hawk. "No one will be good enough for Zasha anyway. She can literally outrun all the boys she dates."

"So are you saying that my Mark isn't good enough for Zasha?" Debbie asked with half a smile, momentarily shutting Josef up before he nervously tried to form a sentence. "I'm just teasing, Josef," she followed, winking at him and almost warning him not to underestimate her son.

Olga chuckled, "It's good for them to bond. They're both teenagers and superheroes, if they ever date at least they won't have to worry about keeping secrets."

"Whoa, wait," Josef exclaimed. "They just met, who said anything about dating?"

His wife rolled her eyes at his remark. "We should, what's the term... hook them up," Olga said. "Debbie, ask Mark what's going on and I'll ask Zasha."

Debbie agreed to the plan and walked over to Mark and Zasha while Josef huffed in annoyance but stayed in his position; there was no way in hell he was going to keep his eyes off of them.

Debbie offered Mark some food from her plate but he kindly declined. "Good choice," she said. "For a party paid for by the government, you'd think they'd have better food."

Mark laughed and nodded in agreement, "That's what Z said!"

"Oh really?" Debbie replied with a playful smirk.

Mark and Zasha looked at each other as if they were sharing an inside joke before Olga called her daughter over.

"Sorry, mama is calling me," she told the Graysons as she excused herself.

"So..." Debbie trailed off, raising her eyebrow at her son whose cheeks were rosy red.

"Mom, please don't make it weird," Mark begged.

"You and Zasha seem to be hitting it off."

"I begged you not to make it weird," he groaned, covering his face.

"I was just asking!" Debbie said with a giggle. "Why are you being so offensive?"

"I'm not, mom, I'm just... ugh," he groaned again. "Please don't say anything to Josef and Olga. Don't make it weird."

"I won't, I won't," Debbie reassured him. "Are you gonna ask her out though?"

"Mom!"

"Okay, okay, I'm leaving," she said with a hearty laugh, nodding at Zasha who was walking back to her seat.

"Sorry about that, my mom was being strange," Zasha said. "Everything okay?" she asked Mark, who now looked like he'd been slapped over and over again.

"Yeah, yeah! Great! Everything's great!"

She smiled at him but Mark leaned over and kept his head down. Another moment of awkward silence fell upon the two; Zasha looked around while tapping her toes and Mark's sight was glued to the floor. From the corner of his eye, he could see his mom and Olga delicately signalling at him to make his move. He covered the sides of his face and continuously mouthed "No," but the two were unrelenting. He took a deep breath and finally sat back up, and looked over at Zasha who was still pretending to casually look around.

"Hey, uh, Z?"

She quickly looked over at him with wide eyes, "Yes?"

Mark looked behind her head and watched as Olga and Debbie were giggling and whispering to each other, like a bunch of high school girls who just saw their best friend talking to their crush.

"Uh, I'm hungry."

The smile on Zasha's face was quickly replaced with a look of confusion. "Okay... and?"

"Oh! Um," he cleared his throat, "do you... like burgers?"

Zasha giggled and nodded, "I do like burgers."

Controlling his urge to fist pump, Mark cheekily bit his lower lip and moved a little closer, "You wanna head out and grab a bite?"

"Uh..." she turned around and watched as Olga and Debbie quickly nodded their heads, her mom giving her a sign of approval to leave the party. "Sure, I'm starving."

Josef looked on as the two of them stood up and began to make their way to the exit. Sighing in defeat and sadness, he called them over to the place where he's been stationed at since the Graysons arrived.

"Papa, we're just gonna get something to eat," she informed him nervously, knowing his scare tactics when it came to the guys she introduced him to.

Josef's eyes softened as the sight of his little girl, who he knew and finally accepted was growing up. She was making her way into the world and as much as he wanted to always protect her, he knew that she was just as smart and as capable to start doing it herself.

He took his daughter's hand and held it tight, "Okay, call me if you need a ride home."

"I will," Zasha said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Love you, papa."

"I love you too," he replied with a smile that was immediately erased when he focused his attention to Mark. "Bring her home by 11:30, and no sneaking into her room by the window," he ordered the teenage boy sternly.

Caught by surprise by the sudden formality, Mark straightened his back and nodded. "Uh yes, y-yes sir, Red Rush, sir."

"Papa!" she exclaimed. "No more scare tactics."

"I'm sorry," he chuckled, "that was the last one, I promise."

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Addressing Lindsey

I really, really hate this topic a lot.

The fandom has been split forever over Lindsey. And here’s my take.

I’m the type of person where I believe love prevails over any emotion. It’s like overrule, the veto of emotions. There’s something so incredibly fascinating about love, true and genuine love. It’s a mystery until someone has found it, an unopened, untouched box.

That same box can open to a treasure chest of gold, and show the truest form of love. Or it can be Pandora’s box.

Yes, I believe Lindsey Way has many toxic personality traits. I don’t believe it is fair for me to classify her as a “bad person”, I don’t know her personally. However her actions lead me to believe she is definitely not a person to be necessarily fond of.

I’ve always been supportive of her and Gerard’s relationship, because (at least from what we can see) she makes Gerard happy. And after all that man has been through the very least he deserves is happiness and love. And he loves her, so I respect their relationship.

I’ve always had a very weird feeling about their relationship, however. Just the quick pace, and the events surrounding it. It just seems so calculated by her.

So Projekt Revolution starts, this is just post-Eliza breakup for Gerard. Yes, we all know she was also incredibly toxic. He was very possibly vulnerable, unsure what to do or where to go. And here comes up a woman who is ready to assist him through all of this.

We all know Gerard is highly emotional and empathetic, time after time in interviews he’s admitted it, other members of the bands have admitted it. Coming from someone with an EQ of 160 and an incredibly empathetic person as well, it’s easy to fall into the traps set up by other people. I’ve done it time and time again, but I’m still young and I know I can grow from those mistakes. So, he probably fell head over heels, not thinking too far in advance and thinking with his current emotions.

And what does she get in return? Gerard is an incredibly attractive man to begin with (I write fan fiction about him, lol, I would know) and MCR was practically on top of the world at that point. She’s a decently well known name in rock at that period, but marrying the cover of rock at that point would, well, boost you up quite a bit. Both as a musician, and in her art career.

I also want to truly mention the differences in the way they talk about one another. Basically every interview where Gerard talks about Lindsey he uses extremely strong and passionate language. When she talks about him, she does not. It almost seems bland, little to no emotion or tone. 

Not to mention as well the 2008 Fuse interview pre-Madison Square Garden show where Gerard mentions how she flew out to see him play his dream show. No offense, but in a marriage with someone who you will be spending the rest of your life with, isn’t being there to see them achieve their dream the lowest expectation? He made such a big deal out of her flying out, which tells me she made a big damn deal about it to him, which is incredibly unfair lowering the bar for yourself.

Her lack of emotion isn’t only with interviews regarding anything with Gerard. In general there’s almost no tone to her voice, she has little to no range. Her facial expressions don’t range, and her fan interactions seem less than emotional. I know various people have various ways of expressing themselves, but in general she seems to have a lot less expression within her voice, facial features, and actions than the average person.

And don’t get me started on her incredibly public, and incredibly immature meltdowns. I think it’s so important to mention that Gerard has never once defended her, which shows that he knows enough to conclude that she’s in the wrong in these situations. Especially with the whole opossum post making fun of Frank’s car accident in 2016, not cool.

In general she gives me such a weird, very off vibe. It’s hard for me to research her interviews, recorded through video or just printed and try to say that she seems like a caring, good, sound minded person. I really think something’s off, and I don’t want to accuse her of anything because I find that unfair, but my gut feeling since I joined the MCRmy almost four years has always been that she has her own intentions behind marrying Gerard, and it wasn’t just for love.

So Gerard fell victim to the forces of love. And to me, this seems more of a Pandora’s box situation. It seems in their early marriage he was incredibly happy, the happiest fans had ever seen him. In Danger Days he regresses back to his days of abusing substances, and I’m not saying by any means it’s due to her, but lots of people have commented on how he looks more miserable since then.

And I think now that he’s a father, it only adds an additional string of some sort of obligation he holds to her. We’ve seem him talk about Bandit, explain how she was the main reason he chose to come clean and eventually end the band after, once again, finding himself in another down turn of misery.

I just can’t help but think that when the timeline of some of his decline again matches up with their relationship, and no I don’t think it’s a coincidence.

And some fans may argue with me all they want, and accuse me of pushing a false narrative. But with how open Gerard has been with his character and how closed Lindsey has been aside from her public meltdowns, I can’t help but think there’s something off about the whole thing.

I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again: The entire relationship to me sounds like a fucked up 1800s gothic novel. Someone falls in love with someone else, and true love is a permanent glue: You can try to pry it off all you want, the stains remain forever.

However you guys feel about this I hope what I’m saying here won’t affect your perspective or view on my writing, since that’s my main forte. I’ve just been seeing more people bring this up again, especially after she blocked a fan on Twitter for calling her out for BLM (since MSI does have quite a few highly racist songs and lyrics) so I think it’s important to at least express my opinions, whether people agree with them or not.

[kendrixtermina]

Three Hopes Live Reactions Part I  - Azure Gleam

I’m doing the routes in reverse order of how much I like each house leader, saving the best for last - plus, I’ve heard that while the other routes are good, Azure Gleam sucks to the point even the dimitri stans are torn on it. 

“claude time? Claude time”. claude continues to be the worlds funniest person.

This is not at all how I’ve been imagining Byleth’s voice all this time. Gotta check if the jp one is better. 

“Finally a protag with a personality” people said, and then it’s a Bland generic hot blooded hero. Then again, I’m biased as someone who actually liked Byleth. 

i hate it when ppl accuse less expressive characters of having “no personality”. I like them because they require paying attention & reading comprehension to puzzle out where they’re at. Also, i instantly assume you would be one of those ppl who bullied me in highschool for being “weird and creepy”. 

That said, it is a good thing that they’re contrasting, I like the basic premise of seeing a different side to all the characters because you’re interacting with them from a different PoV

Here’s another hint for the dummies that the point of the bandit attack was to make the church look bad

And we see right away how shady they are in how Shez is essentially bribed to avoid bad publicity

It is funny how Shez has a mostly good impression of the house leaders whereas Byleth smelled their hidden skelletons right away

As if poor, poor Dimitri needed yet more terrible backstory stuff

So we found out Conelia’s real name

At least Dimitri is given a reason other than naivity for why he patiently waited to turn 18 (unlike Claude, who was already half ruling the alliance, and Edelgard who was making takeover preparations) - it was mentioned in some dialogue from the OG game that Felix wanted him to take the throne early. Though, while wanting to prevent civil war gives him more understandable reasons, it's still a *tad* naive. If he knew there'd be a fight & didn't prepare for it.  

we actually get to kill kleiman? i mean an execution after a trial detailing what he did would have been better, but ill take it

...captured? Aww :( 

doesnt having drawbridges than can be lowered from the outside defeat the pont of drawbridges?

I would have expected Dimitri to have more of a reaction to the “I should have killed you at duscur”. Like holy tomb scene style. Though I suppose that was preceded by a long pile of stuff that simply did not happen here. 

the casual “i agree that i should have died that day” tho :( 

Still, again, he was much more shocked to learn of Kleiman & co being behind it in the original game. I feel like the drama & emotional torque are just not up to standards.

MASSIVE props to Dimitri and Rodrigue for not doing a coverup here / wanting to disseminate the truth to the people. 

I suppose an explanation for the plots moving quicker here might be that the agarthans might have wanted to watch and wait on Byleth. Who should be cluelessly frolicking in the meadows somewhere now

Though calling off the academy phase early means the students from the different houses hardly knew each other

I hope Scarlet Blaze will explain why there were 2 years between the takeover and the war, though I appreciate that it wasn’t forgotten that Edelgard’s war declaration was adressed at the central church only and that the Kingdom did not HAVE to get involved. Like, the fact that the war escalated to the point that it did was always 100% on Dimitri. I blame him alot more her than in the canon timeline, tho, because there he wasn’t in his right mind, which wasn’t his fault. Don’t get me wrong, Edelgard knew she might end up fighting the whole continent and wilfully chose to risk the consequences of that but it was never about conquerring the neighbors.

So Dimitri never snaps in this one. Which is interesting, but also they’re gonna have to work hard to keep it from being boring. 

It makes sense that he wouldn’t, he thinks he’s fulfilled his vengeance already - Rufus and Kleiman were responsible. 

like, there is a lot you could fill out here for more efficient emotional torques. fanfic writers get on it

Like emotional torque wise there seems to be a chunk missing where he reflects on this or whatever. But I guess at this point he didn’t know Shez well enough to get into it. He may have discussed it with Dedue or Gilbert.

I like the nod to Crimson Flower with Seteth & Rhea asking Dimitri to let them hide out in Faerghus

Aaargh the discussion on wether to remain neutral was so painful to watch. It’s a horde of conservative old men and a boy who was obviously raised by / guided by them. but this was precisely the attitude he showed in the crest conversation in the OG game. He always was this half-assed  centrist guy. 

Even if you want stability, I’d reckon that No War would be better than War. He could just deal with uprisings if they happen. He frankly got steamrolled/ talked into it by his elders. 

This is precisely why edelgard is onto something with getting rid of hereditary rule. Dimitri is on all accounts a good, charitable and empathetic person, but he is simply no leader, at least not one suited for times of crisis. He would be a great middle manager or something, but he lacks vision.

Seriously, is Sylvain’s dad someone you should listen to?

Something in the OG game is that he didn’t get to implement a political platform or even have one cause he was busy losing his marbles. So here we see his politics & they’re consistent with early game Dimitri - he’s certainly pacifistic, idealistic & fair-minded - he did some good stuff making stuff more egalitarian fixing the duscur situation etc, but he’s painfully naive. 

Horrible as it sounds, I think Dimitri sort of became a better man by the end of AM than he is here. The humbling did him good (as did being 3 years older)

Not to get too down on Dimitri. He acts like an average 19 year old would which I suppose is what makes him "relatable". Whereas Claude and Edelgard are wise beyond their years, or rather, they have exceptionally self-reliant and resilient personalities.

But this does sort of offer a glimpse of how things may have gone for CF!Dimitri. Though he’d still be considerably less hinged than here. 

the lore tidbits on the different territories in the kingdom were neat. so we know how to describe the landscape in fanfics

Hubert looks so hot, the 3D model more so than the portrait. I love that he picks Petra/ generally has this respect for her when they’re on the same side.

Felix telling you to give ppl gifts is surreal XDD As is Dimitri advising everyone to stay calm. They did pretty much end up going in very different directions.

So the recruiting works here by persuading ppl in mid battle? That’s kinda a lot more unrealistic than getting them on your side after, like, winning their trust after living together at the academy. Makes them seem rather indecise and half-hearted imho, or the whole thing too much like a gimmick. i dont like it. they dont even all get ambivalent-sounding dialogue

Rhea is really channeling peak blue diamond in whinging on how she doesnt wanna sacrifice cyril’s life to save hers after he already took the rear guard

“Skirmish in the fog” shows a rather more pragmatic Dimitri - I can’t see his late AM self “ok to slaughter a 100 to save a 1000″ that was his whole opposition to edelgard. He’s gone down a rather different trajectory here.  He didn't snap in this one but neither did he learn the humility that comes with regret. He’s more pragmatic, yes, but also more conservative. I can’t see this Dimitri inventing constitutional monarchy like his AM self. 

So far I find the characters to be in-character but the writing weaker overall at least in terms of emotional beats. Like if they had inserted just a few scenes of Dimitri reflecting on what last happened...

Even in the OG timeline Dimitri was someone who emphasized listening to others - which can be a good thing, sure, but it can also backfire depending on who the others are.

I really appreciated the scene where Felix calls him on how playing politician doesn’t suit him, & you do get a glimpse that he’s no less soft on the inside, also very in character for Dimitri to blame himself for killing Rufus through the man treated him like dirt.

I love Ignatz’ lil hair decorations~ 

“If Hubert couldnt beat them nobody could have” such faith aww

And here’s Lonato making trouble later than the last time. Appreciate the irony: They thought not taking the church in would cause rebellions, but so did taking them in. Now they have rebellions plus war, ppl defecting to the enemy. 

17 year old Dimitri was a lot more conflicted about axing Lonato. Though I think the difference is mostly a bit more impulse control. 

Is that Byleth? I did not see this comming. 

That thing with Miklan came out of nowhere. Wasn’t he like a horrible bandit famed for all sort of atrocities? Yuri’s dialogue in that chapter in particular...  It’s not inconceivable that Dimitri somehow brought him into the fold, but this is kinda random & cheapening the drama/ bit of a half-assed plot thread. 

this this could have worked great if there was more than a throwaway line

This game seems determined to tell us everyone’s middle names

So there is the explanation. Being captured by your abusive father after you escaped him must be a nightmare, even if you’re a bandit who needs locked up. Not that Dimitri would get it, he is mister unwanted pity. He didn’t get why Edelgard would rather die than be captured alive.  I guess this somewhat explains it as a Dimitri pacifist thing. Miklan’s essentially been put to do community service. It’s an ambiguous situation really, like the punishment is fitting, he did enough to deserve far worse - it’s a mercy.  I just wish his father weren’t involved. We’ll see how this goes. It could lead to redemption.

this is very very dimitri thing to do. guilt fueled, merciful, idealistic & zealot-like at once - I like that the connection to Rufus was explicitly made. 

Dimitri still hates/judges himself/ regrets it even after he did get his revenge on a treacherous family member. And this is even though he got one who was actually guilty (and actually his relative) this time, compared to the misinformation and projection fueled crusade against Edelgard in the canon timeline. 

Felix got a point. At this point Dimitri is listening more to Gautier senior and Gustave than to his same-age classmates. 

Sylvain’s analysis about how Miklan was basically given the position out of tokenism tho... well, he’s optimistic about it - maybe he feels he needs to be, out of guilt, but that’s kinda what it is. Still, it’s some improvement compared to before Dimitri’s rule. The random duscurian generals are proof of that - though you’d think there’d be more NPCs grumbling about that. 

still, It’s like the blue Lions go their very own Jeritza now

Finally we've been granted our longtime wish of stabbing Bernadetta's dad, ig only in a side mission

Once again Dimitri promises to help you with your vengeance quest. But Shez is alot more chill/ambivalent about it. 

Going straight to thinking about hiring the Eisners however is also very him. 

Byleth seems so wasted as just an ordinary soldier when you know what a terrifying general they can be. Though one sees also how their time as a professor softened them up, which didn’t happen here. 

Bernie is trying very hard to be a general... :( capturing her seems so mean

Love how Felix recognizes Jeritza by his sword technique

That bit were Sothis took over was absolutely terrifying. So she could have...

the sreng thing is a new plot twist so no way to predict how that goes. i love how sylvain is in no rush to go rescue his father

oooh a trap, thats what it was. seems like its time to mop up cornelia

if there was such a threat of sucession crisis, why has no one yet badgered dimitri to go make royal babies?

i do appreciate that Shez is so chill about everything. 

And of course Dimitri has to be so Dimitri about everything and let himself get captured to protect the citizens. About the Dimitriest thing he could have done. 

its a bit of a missed opportunity that cornelia doesnt taunt him about the Anselma/patricia situation though i guess that plot thread was too diffuse for them to try to un-tangle it

Time to go liberate Fhirdiad again. If only it would stay liberated for a while. 

Again Ashe gets props for being the one to worry about poor Dedue

i love how out of place the agarthan tech looks and how no one can quite describe it

i love how mercedes makes a point of telling Dedue that hes important, too. 

Again Dimitri has way too many people willing to pep talk him. But I guess he does need all the pep talks he can get. Still he is so not cut out for this job, insta regretting and agonizing over all his decisions. 

AH. Now she is teasing him about Patricia. But not that she was a co-conspirator. I guess she’d rather sick him on Edelgard at this point.

Only Dimitri would sigh fondly about getting a dressing down by Felix. He’s so hopeless. which is endearing in its own way.

They’ve locked Bernadetta in the shed? Or most likely she fled there. I love how she & shez bond over having no sense of orientation.

So anette has a cousin who ran off to be a musician

Not sure - on the one hand it kinda spoils the “they blamed the minorities” aspect of it, though the disproportionateness of the backlash is certainly not erased by that, the brutal collective - on the other hand it’s the sort of politically inconvenient, narrative-defying complexity that can occur IRL and be a mess for the leaders to spin. It is realistic - like pointing at one minority criminal to justify demonizing a whole people. It was an attempt to do complexity but realistically invoking the party that did the mass murder just a few years back would have been political suicide for the duscurian leadership, or, seen differently, it kinda makes it look like Duscur is basically still a vassal state. Why isn’t the possibility of complete independence brought up? Guess Dimitri couldn’t convince all the old lords to agree and didn’t want to go against all of them in his usual wishoe-washyness or something.  I appreciate that they’re trying to do complexity here but it might have been done better. well. video game writers are not necessarily into political theory/discourse. 

Though this is another instance of the emotional torques just being done better in the OG game. Let Dedue be conflicted over sympathizing with the insurgents but maybe chosing to oppose them for the sake of stability; Let Ingrid reflect on how she gets why they hate Faerghus given how prejudiced ppl were including herself in her younger years. Let it ~land~

wasnt Duscur described as a more arid region in the supports from the OG game? Im dissapointed that it kinda looks like everywhere else.

That said, props to Dimitri for wanting the Insurgent caught and put on public trial rather than just axing him. Big political show of punishing only the guilty rather than the indiscriminate retaillation of the previous regime. Though again, better yet if the duscurians had their own judiciary & THEY put him on trial. 

I do appreciate how Dedue tries to act all stoic throughout but then in the end he cracks & wants to visit the once destroyed flower meadow from his childhood days :( I appreciate how the pair who used to hate him now volunteers to come along as moral support, but they should have at least asked if he wants to go alone. 

It’s a sensible direction to take him on this path, but I#m a bit sad that Felix while still being the same fierce pragmatic person, has basically completely gotten over his whole rebellious phase, even going so far as to align with his brothers’ knight ideals.  He isn’t recruitable in this game so we can’t really get Rebellious!Felix. I guess with the academy phase cut short & other developments happening Felix never got the chance to get serious about cutting ties with his house, it’s unrealistic that he would ditch his childhood friends after just 2 months as opposed to a full year & a charismatic figure like Byleth being involved. I always thought defector!Felix making his own path was the more interesting version of his character. 

Ah. Edelgard has come to mop us up personally. Things are about to get phun. Very logical to come take out the kingdom while they’re busy with internal squabbles. 

This Dimitri doesn’t have any particular obsession with Edelgard - he hardly got to know her, and the misunderstanding never happens - he’s chasing the right enemy this time: Cornelia. Though overlooking an elite army to keep busy with interior squabbles is a dumb decision. This just proves all I’ve always said about how he just projected his mother complex onto her as his sanity went out the window. Here, the treacherous relative he chased for revenge was Rufus (who truly betrayed him, and truly is his relative) - so it makes sense that securing his position & chasing traces of Cornelia is more “personal” here than Edelgard. She is simply a rival - that is what she actually is, and how she thinks of him, so in a sense viewing her that way is a sign of this Dimitri being less obsessed, or channeling his obsession on other things. 

One has got to appreciate how chill Shez is. "Not really that keen on the bloody vengeance thing"

We just axed half the western lords in one battle....

So the agarthan shapeshifting involves literal body snatching?

Oooh. This is new. Obviously what Cornelia is saying here is a misdirection or misrepresentation to sic Dimitri on Edelgard, but I wonder if we’re gonna end up finding out what actually happened to Anselma. 

Since Cornelia only dies late in Crimson Flower she could’ve put that idea in his head in that timeline also. Or it was that Agarthan Abyss NPC who mentions failing & trying to sway Dimitri to ally with them. 

So Dimitri wants to Hannibal the imperial army xD You know what, I’ll allow it, if only for the reference value. 

Wait, is this NPC implying that Miklan and Sylvain are only half-brothers? Or did the Sreng raid happen right after Sylvain was born? If that’s the same epidemic that killed Dimitri’s bio mom the writers might have forgotten that Sylvain’s supposed to be two years older than the rest of the trio - also, didn’t he mention parents, plural, in his supports? They might’ve mucked this up. 

Bernadetta in the shed always cracks me up. All the former Eagles remember well how effin overpowered Edelgard is lol.

So Annette’s musical cousin is called Simon. Seems like runing away runs in the family * glares at Gustave * 

Presenting the Church paralogue, in which Cyril proves to have more braincells than all the Nabateans combined in deciding to bring Shez along

So apparently even Rhea thinks Seteth is overprotective

I love that bit where, after seeing Rhea fight some, Cyril starts wondering if she even needs a bodyguard

This sounds like Rhea still carries a torch for old Wilhelm. Poor Cyril got subjected to an impromptu history lesson.

I love Yuri here XDD

So Ferdinand got his butt kicked by Claude.

And this is Linhard’s dad? He is tall indeed! I could picture Linhardt looking very similar when he gets to middle age. 

Never thought I’d be agreeing with Miklan of all people but his analysis of Dimitri is spot on. He knows he’s just a token figurehead. A quota appointment. He’s an irredeemable jerk but I feel sorry for him. 

I wish they could be bothered to tell us the name of Dimitri’s Bio mom btw. 

Well, RIP Miklan. 

And true to form, Linhardt is complaining. <3 Never change <3

I love how the Hevrings both run away. 

And here comes the main event!

So apparently Felix has been wanting to kill Ferdinand since the academy ‘cause he’s annoying. Gotta uphold his big fat meanie zuchini reputation, I suppose. 

argh. Thales that motherfucker. But of course. Edelgard is a thorn in his side, if he takes her out after Dimitri’s softened her up, he can assume command himself. 

Dimitri can’t make up his mind. One moment he wants to finish Edelgard the next he’s playing Big Stronk Man Protector. After so many of his soldiers died fighting her. 

I guess Thales didn’t dare do this when she got wounded at gronder because the rest of the Eagles were with her. Particularly Hubert, who is tied up with the alliance front. 

Guess they’re gonna mostly be fighting Thales now, who will prove a lot worse now that he’s unchecked. 

Or wait, she’s not dead? Did she transform to get away from Thales? WTF happened? I guess it’s ambiguous on purpose. 

And of course Dimitri has to be dragged to his escape by Shez - sounds like he’s pretty busted up himself tho, he didn’t win by much

Looks like Dimitri is actually catching onto the Agarthans this time. 

Ah so rather than take command personally Thales has gone back to his old puppet, Duke Aegir. Best to stay out of the limelight one supposes.

Oh. OHHH. OG FUKKKK 

This is worse than death. 

I never want ANY of you fuckers calling Edelgard stubborn or otherwise giving her shit for for chosing death over being captured alive EVER AGAIN. 

But of course. They put a lot of ressources into creating her. Makes sense they’d want to get some return on their investment after all. 

If Dimitri had truly cared, or knew the first thing about her, he would’ve slit her throat before letting Thales get his hands on her again. He didn’t save or protect her at all by deflecting those fireballs, only prolonged her suffering. 

“citizenry grows quickly resentful of his brutal manner of governance” No shit sherlock. Especially after they’ve had 2 years of freedom and equality. 

Nice job breaking it Dimitri. You just handed Adrestia to the tyrants. Was taking in Rhea to secure your divine right of kings worth all this??

I’ve been saying it from the first, the war was not a one-sided affair. Edelgard knew it would be the likeliest result & accepted the collaterals, so she is responsible, but so is Claude breaking his neutrality because he’s opportunistically plotting to take over (for his own grand noble ambition) & Dimitri for refusing to let go of the old order (or a personal grudge, though this is less the case with this version). As well as Rhea & Thales for making Fodlan an unstable pwderkeg in the first place. 

Don’t get me wrong - Dimitri is a nice, sincere guy trying his best. I can’t hate or blame him personally. He just didn’t think things trough ‘cause it’s beyond him, not as a moral failing. He is a product of his surroundings & relative to those he is much better compared to the culture that produced him- besides, his hopeless overemotional manner is quite endearing. But he is just. Not. Leader material. I guess from a storytelling perspective its compelling to see someone without leadership talent try & do his best, but if you’re going to ask me about who the best leader is, Dimitri is just leagues below the other two. Dimitri would be a good middle manager or enforcer, but not a policy setter. 

Hahaha Rhea is realizing that her Detective skills are just not very good

But this Dimitri is clear-headed enough to realize that the empire was infiltrated same as the kingdom was - to recognize the actual relationship between them & the slitherers. Granted, you’d have to have tomatoes on your eyes to miss it after seeing Thales try to off her. 

Thales probably meant to kill Dimitri as well. 

It’s worth noting that Edelgard had to be taken out of comission for Dimitri to seem like a hero. He’s incompetent but he’s the only one left who can stop the Agarthan’s anymore. In that sense at least he must be commended for raising to the occasion. 

OOO it’s CLAUDE TIME!!!! <3 <3 <3 Ok if he’s getting involved there should be far less dumb decisions being made in the future. Please, Claude, guide the manchildren Dimitri and Rhea with your supreme wisdom. 

I love his smirk. I love his lil eyebrow gaps. Claude Khalid my Hero Man <3 <3 <3

I love how he just brazenly probes Dimitri’s loyalty to the church. He’s basically suggesting they dispatch her after they win, is he not? 

I repeat: Claude Khalid My Hero Man. & look how smooth things go once the three non-adrestian powers are an united front. Or rather, once Claude wants one. I’ve been telling the No Reading Comprehension brigarde from the start: The neutrality wasn’t just feigned. He wants the same results as Edelgard but doesn’t have faith in her methods. And also he doesn’t trust anyone. He’s waiting opportunitically & if the person who comes out on top is reform-minded he’d ally with them. Now the Empire has gone full evil under Aegir, Edelgard is basically dead whatever sad pupettry Thales is doing with her empty shell, so, it’s clear that only defeating them will lead to a good outcome. 

Not even Dimitri is dumb enough to assume Claude won’t doublecross him

Sounds like the population of the Empire thinks Edelgard is still running things... and like Ferdinand and Hubert... well, best case they fled, worst case they’ve been dissappeared. If I were Thales I would definitely kill them. They wouldn’t accept what’s going on. 

Aaaand another NPC with a random tale of Dimitri doing nice things for randos, what a chronic hero he is

Ah, they clarified it. So the idea is supposed to be that Sylvain & Miklan were only half brothers. I think that kinda cheapens the crest being the deciding factor. To no one’s surprise their father didn’t seem to have batted an eyelash at Miklan’s demise. 

the alliance soldiers all hate the kingdoms food lol

Seteth thinks its sus that Claude doesn’t pray enough. like there are valid reasons to suspect him but that isnt one

Dimitri continues to be a workaholic. no matter his spouse outlives him in all the paired endings

Kudos to Lorenz for wanting Ignatz to keep talking to him normally XDD That particular friendship has always shown his better qualities.  

Lol @ Rafael for wanting to be paid in ham XDD Though I suppose Lorenz would have access to, like, really fancy ham. 

Lorenz’ dialogue in his paralogue is hysterical. 

Managing to annoy Shez has got to be a kind of archievement

Alas this hints at a lot of whats presumably going on in the alliance route that i havent seen yet

Oooh. Lorenz is putting the pieces together. Guess this time they decided it would be fun to have him present when his father’s dastardly deeds are uncovered. 

It’s a nice detail that Claude’s uncle apparently died trying to defend the merchants. However, i would have liked to see the Agarthan involvement hinted in the shadow library documents hinted at.  It kind of was (I suppose that the implication was that the mysterious emissary was an Agarthan, but Lorenz’ dad not really knowing about it seems like a copout) i kinda prefer my own headcanon here. Or that Lorenz’ Dad pretended not to know. 

i prefer to think that Lorenz fed them all the ham equivalent of the extra fancy wedding ring from his S support. 

Aegir and Thales be war-crimin’

Dedue’s put it together that Edelgard’s probably dead, out of power or bodysnatched. Thank you, token level-headed person. Which at least avoids a cliched repeat of Azure Moon’s plot in which Dimitri waltzes in and finds the person he’s been wanting revenge against has been effectively dead for months. That could have been interesting as a tragedy tho. like fortinbras waltzing in at the end of hamlet. 

is... is that just the traditional gloucester hairstyle??

They seem to be going with a willingly evil reading on Anselma here. The letter showing calculation. Not as helpless as Dimitri supposed in the hapi support. It was my headcanon that that was cope, but I thought it was merely that, a headcanon, cause I didn’t like that they made her seem innocent & thought it was way too unrealistic that the KING can’t be alone with his WIFE. I mean was Cornelia watching them fuck? Probably not. 

I’d say Cornelia was bodysnatched soon after curing the plague (”she asked no reward... at first”) suggesting it was already Cleobulus who ordered Anselma brought. Though the dsplay mae to Hapi suggests a self-rightheous human played like a fiddle by Cornelia rather than an Agarthan. 

I like that she continued to be characterized as weirdly distant (as per the Mercedes support) and that Dimitri’s rosy memory of her seems to have been cope. Again that was my headcanon cause it just fits how Dimitri acts, but I didn’t expect to see it confirmed. 

Looks like Thales is going to be the endgame villain for this route so he will probably spit out the whole truth before Dimitri axes him. 

of course they could do the reveal that cornelia somehow wrote that letter

Thank you Shez for pointing out how unforgiveable Anselma is. 

“I don’t forgive her for how she treated me” - thats a BIIIG advancement from Academy Dimitris rose colored memory

I CALLED IT! I CALLED IT! I wrote this whole fanfiction under the presumption that Anselma mistreated Dimitri & he was just in denial. 

I mean she left him to die in cold blood. A little kid who adored her & tried to get along despite his hurt feelings.  It was not hard to deduce. No one who did this could be a good person. If she was an innocent victim motivated by maternal feeling, wouldn’t she take pity on a motherless child? 

very Dimitri of Dimitri to be worried about Shez’ feelings after getting such a bombshell dropped on himself. 

At this point if it turned out that Edelgard actually killed her, i wouldnt even be mad. 

Kudos to Sylvain for pointing out that theyre giving the church a looot of power

Anyone who halfway knew Edelgard is suspecting that she’s been axed.

I mean, as far as I’m concerned she IS dead. That’s not her anymore. Not in any meaningful way. 

Aww I love how Flayn and Dedue are standing next to each other... Thales’s rule is so bad it’s turned Flayn off off pacifism.

Randolph’s been letting the defectors defect. That sounds like him. I wonder how he and Ladislava will die this time.

I love how everyone’s elders have slightly faded/greying versions of the fantasy hair colors.

also like how they elaborated a bit on Sylvain’s longstanding ambition to make peace with Sreng. one wonders if he could have accomplished it without the unification of fodlan - obviously after that, they could haul goods from the warmer regions to trade/share with the srengians. 

The writers seem to have forgotten a bit that Gautier senior was supposed to be an asshole who treated his sons like tools. It’s ok to show nuance or even redemption, I, but the assholishness hasn’t been shown, acknowledged or adressed in a while. 

Good thing that Constance is in day mode, that version of her’s prolly easier to recruit lol

So Lambert also had no Work-Life balance

Af if Dimitri and Felix weren’t enough, Rodrigue seems intent on adopting Shez xDD

Randolph is really a good guy, being this honest. 

So Byleth ALSO thinks the blue hair looked better on them XD

Look at Seteth stealth recomending the strategy book he wrote in his Saint days XDD

That bit with Petra visiting the site of her father’s death & philosophizing about it was a nice touch

Poor Dorothea :(

Love Ashe & Dedue conferring about how to fix Dimitri’s pen breaking problems. But I suggest against naming it, if he does break it ayways then he’ll feel super guilty XD

constance is one amusingly loose canon

thank you, mercedes, for keeping the nerds focussed on the mission. though i shouldnt talk being a distractable nerd myself

This is truly the alternatest of timelines. Though from what I’ve heard this has 2 separate endings depending on wether you axe the Eisners or not, this lets player didn’t seem to have known you could spare Jeralt. 

You know, it strikes me that Sothis, too, seems to have had significant character development in the OG timeline that she didn’t get here. You see a hint of this side when she wants the bandit in abyss executed. It’s striking that here she tells Byleth that she could have prevented this when in the OG timeline she tells them it was inevitable. Also she refused to possess them. She seems... more fierce, like you can tell she’s Rhea’s mom. I used to think that the bad stuff was all Rhea, but now I’m thinking she may have been not so unambiguously benevolent in the past, for all that she does have a level of actual care. 

I appreciate Sylvain being very strict & fierce in telling shez not to guilt-trip themselves. He saw his friends go down that hole. 

Poor Shez, cause, he was clearly starting to think of Rodrigue as a father figure, but not as long as Dimitri or the man’s actual son. It’s this crap situation where you’re definitely grieving but also arguably the one least affected. 

ive looked it up - apparently you have to avoid triggering the ambush and make a beeline for randolph. then the Eisners surrender and you can hire them - Dimitri agrees to keep them out of Rhea’s sights, and thus everybody gets to keep their dads. well, back to the former lets play. ill miss out on hearing what byleth says if theyre standing around in your camp but im sure someone will upload the “recruit byleth” variant eventually. back to the first lets play for now

Apparently if you recruit them you find out that their favorite flowers are sunflowers. Awww. 

I’ve looked it up and apparently, Azure Gleam is the route where it is the hardest to recruit Byleth. Makes sense since Jeralt is hiding from the church. 

Ah, Felix, ever the voice of reason

Claude doesn’t beat around the bush, he just straight up says, “the people calling the shots for the imperials”

So Rhea’s comming too to nab her monastery back

That bit where Marianne mentions how Hilda came to check on her tho <3

Kudos to Dorothea for sparing a moment of silence for Hubert and Ferdinand who were almost certainly dissapeared by Thales and dumped in unmarked graves

OK that is beyooooond fucked up. As far as I'm concerned Edelgard died at Arianrhod. That reanimated meat puppet isn't her anymore.I just hope there isn't enough of her left in there to be conscious of what's happening.

I’d say Jeritza is the only one from whom this mid battle recruitment makes sense solely because of Mercedes and Constance  

Caspar’s dad is a noble man indeed. He knows Adrestia is finished

Let’s appreciate  the boundless irony that Byleth willingly becomes a vessel in the timeline where they never interact with Rhea. 

It’s a nice detail that her hair turns back to blue after she dies. 

This is supposed to be Dimitri’s route but it feels like Claude is the real MVP here. Every single useful plan came from him. 

Ok, this is worse than Azure Moon, actually, cause at least there Rhea steps down, only 3 of the main characters are necessary deaths, & Dimitri implements some proto-democratic or constitutional features. In this one, nothing changes other than that Adrestia's wiped off the map and what's it matter if its two territories or one? One could theoretically hope that Claude assassinated her & tracked down Shabhalla, but there's no guarantee. There's no guarantee that the peace between the Kingdom & the Alliance even held, it's kind of implied that it might not. The best case scenario really is, "Everything stays the same & Dimitri is remembered as a somewhat upstanding King" - One in a line, not a radical break. It's a status quo ending. Mildly improved status quo, I guess, I'm not saying Dimitri's reforms were nothing, but, its pretty bad.

I wanted to strangle the youtube commenters that were like “finally all 3 lords survived” I would not consider Edelgard alive in any meaningful sense of the word. She’s been dead for 6 months as this point (and everything was worse off for that). Being a vacant meat puppet is not being alive. Plus it’s heavily implied that Claude might well turn on the Church & Kingdom.... this is a pretty bad end. again, its objectively worse than azure moon or heck, even silver snow. 

heck they didnt even answer the anselma questions or tell us how she died. 

Well. onto golden wildfire. Who better to cheer me up after this debacle than Claude Khalid My Hero Man <3 <3 <3

[agent-cupcake]

just curious, what’s your favorite and least favorite character design? my least fav for sure has got to be female byleth for reasons i don’t want to get in to yep ok have a good day 😁

IOops this accidentally became a rant, sorry

Okay so, to preface this all, I’m not a character designer and I’m actually pretty bad at it, but my rule of thumb with really unappealing or fan-service outfits is whether or not it makes sense character-wise and how much it tells the player about the character. For example, I think we can all agree that there’s quite a bit of fan-service elements in Hilda’s design. Boob window. However, it’s not unrealistic to imagine Hilda picking out those clothes for herself. Her costume tells you almost everything you need to know about her character on a visual level. She’s confident, pretty, attention-grabbing, and high maintenance while the gloves and laced girdle give a nod to her Viking-maiden roots.

Taking it to female Byleth, I don’t think that her outfit works on either front. Her design is definitely my least favorite and it’s not helped by the fact that you have to look at her at all times. Whatever. The huge, solid mass of boobs, the buttoned bib, the big eyes, the feather hair, the bellybutton, the ripped tights, the booty shorts. She’s a merc out in life and death situations with an accessible, pale, tacky 2000′s “stab me” stomach cut out and a wedgie. Which could be excusable if, like Hilda, there was reason to believe that that her costume was character choice. But she doesn’t really have much character, and what there is gives the impression of a very stoic, dry, blunt person. I have no idea why they’d have gone that route when the sexual appeal of more “utilitarian” costuming (aka, form fitting armor that at least pretends to be functional) for characters like her is scientifically proven AND would say more about the singular personality trait she possesses. Okay, well, I know why they didn’t do that and I think it’s lame. This dysfunction of “character designer wanted a sexy girl but it’s kinda random and just shoved in the game without any thought” actually reminds me a lot of Xenoblade 2′s leading ladies, Hikari and Pyra. Although considering that their bad designs led to a lot of people hating the game for superficial reasons while accepting female Byleth’s design, I guess I’m just bitter. Jumping to a different comparison, then, look at 2B from Nier Automata. Her design is fine as hell which is kinda hypocritical of me considering that it's explicitly fan-service, but I think it also shows the most damning thing for female Byleth. Her whole look, despite having a dozen different element thrown in, is boring. Maybe it’s the colors (dressing her in all black and white would have been really interesting considering the colors of the three lords are so heavily emphasized as a part of their characters) or maybe it’s just the way the desperate elements come together. But, like I said, I'm not even slightly knowledgeable about character design and I know that despite Three Houses being mostly separate, they had to appeal to a larger aesthetic brand to which I have little experience with. And, ultimately, a lot of people find her cute or sexy which...To each their own, I suppose. I don’t pretend that fan-service doesn’t work on me (2B... Cloud’s arms in the remake... Seph's shirtless Smash skin...) but when it’s this obviously inserted in by the character designers rather than feeling organic in any way AND looks bad I'm just not super interested.

The other worst designs for me would be all four of the Ashen Wolves post timeskip. I don't think it's controversial to say that they didn't try with the clothes, even if I love their designs from the neck up (Yes, even Balthus. He looks like the type of guy that would let you sit on his shoulders at a rock concert so you could see the stage). While there are other designs I think are unappealing, those are for purely aesthetic reasons and so I can't maintain the opinion that they're actively bad or that I even truly dislike them.

As for favorite looks... I actually have a few so sorry you're getting all of them because despite the shit I'm talking, I actually really really love the character designs in Three Houses. 

Ferdinand's post timeskip is one of my favorite designs, if not my favorite. The hair, the coat, the armor, the spurs, the colors. You know exactly who Ferdinand von Aegir is just by looking at him. He’s wealthy, handsome, confident in his appearance, a hero, a princely type character, his battle form is mounted combat which is traditionally aesthetically reserved for nobility and leaders... I love it. The only reason I cannot say he IS my favorite is because of the three Lords. But before them, my honorable mentions include post timeskip Hilda, Dorothea, Lorenz, Felix, and Hubert. Granted, I could make a case for why I like almost all of the student’s post timeskip looks.

For the Lords, I obviously have to start with colors because, weirdly enough, Persona didn’t invent primary colors but are actually used as shorthand. Blue is the color of honor, loyalty, sincerity, sadness, and depression. Something I’ve always found very interesting is that blue is very rarely found in nature. To me, that’s always made it seem more lonely which, at least in this case, is thematically relevant. People call Dimitri boring pre timeskip and while I won’t defend his hairstyle (okay, actually, I probably would because he tucks it behind his ears and idk why but that’s one of the cutest things ever) I really like how unassuming he is. Bland. He’s supposed to be the plain shortbread cookie to caramel deLite Claude and strawberry meringue Edelgard. It is not in his character to draw attention to himself or stand out. To me, he kinda looks like an old Barbie prince, like he should have been named Dominic. Also I love the blue eyes/blonde hair thing and his more angular features. It really helps to sell him as the fakeout chivalrous prince type. Post timeskip, Dimitri's black armor is amazing. I love the fact that it’s a lot more intricate up-close with the different little shell-like pieces and the fact that his boots are furry. I love the big cape and the black and white fur around his shoulders. It’s really cool how they used his costume to change the shape of his in-game model to match the bodily proportions of the character art. It’s easier to see when you change his costume into the DLC ones, but the fur and cape build up his shoulders and chest look more broad while keeping that tiny little waist. The choice to give Dimitri an eyepatch is probably my favorite thing about this design. It’s genuinely inspired. Such a simple detail yet it tells the player everything they need to know about adult Dimitri when they see him post timeskip, in one frame the player can begin to understand the extent of his loss over the past five years. The subtle shadow under his eye in the first few Azure Moon chapters and the messy long-ish hair really help to sell the feral prince aesthetic as well, as it’s from those small cues the player gets that he’s exhausted (in more ways than one) and doesn’t maintain himself. None of these things are intentional choices by Dimtiri, they’re the result of what his character has been through.

Yellow is an intense, energetic color. Mostly, people think of it as being warm and inviting, the color of the sun and positivity. That intensity can be overwhelming, though, too visually demanding when compared to its primary counterparts. Don’t stare at the sun too long. Buuuut, it’s okay to stare at Claude. Claude not wanting to wear tight pants in either of his costumes is not only a mood, it is iconic. Pre timeskip, the softer lines of his silhouette makes him look kinda slouchy, kinda lazy. Like he’s not too concerned with appearances. But those adorably messy curls, the little braid, the clearly tended eyebrows, and earring make it clear that he DOES care about appearances and is very aware of his allure. And that’s before he even starts winking. It is honestly so in character that as many people picked him first on the basis of being thirsty, that feels like an intentionally Claude thing even if it was inserted by the designers. The contrast of his complexion with his seagreen eyes is gorgeous and instantly adds a kind of mystery and intrigue to him considering the setting... but it’s sf funny that nobody looked at bronze god Claude among a sea of white faces and thought something was up. Post timeskip, they used the same trick like they did with Dimitri to change Claude’s in-game model to match his canon appearance. The way they designed his uniform makes him not look as twink-ish, like he’s actually muscular and imposing and has the strength he’d need to shoot a war bow with a 120lbs draw weight. Also like Dimitri, you can instantly tell what Claude’s been up to. Like, he was very pretty pre timeskip but when he shows up in the Goddess Tower after those five years in all that gold, he demands your attention. Like a gentleman general with the excessive aesthetic ideals of the Alliance and details to imply his heritage. The quilted pants are amazing from both an aesthetic and practical standpoint. He’s a mounted unit riding a creature with scales, of course he’d want something on his legs for protection. And the chinstrap. I love that so much, it definitely makes him look more adult. He’s got such a cute soft baby face, it’s fun imagining him experimenting with different styles during the five years to get the most desired physical reaction to him as a leader. 

Frenchfries, meet forehead. No, actually, Edelgard’s design is really fantastic. Claude and Dimitri both have realistically colored eyes and hair and then there’s Edelgard. Dimitri shrugs off attention physically and Claude shirks it with a wink but Edelgard commands the players attention from the very start. Although I’m sure there’s a lot of things to associate with white hair and purple eyes, my first thought was Daenerys from Game of Thrones. Otherworldly beautiful by with an edge. Red, of course, is The power color. Strong emotions, love and hate. Red is also associated strongly with blood, which is very important to Edelgard’s plot. Granted, I think the red and black association is even more powerful than JUST red and red is the cheapest play to make in regards to displaying villainy (I mean, there are some pretty universally recognized associations with red and black and it led to people making some unfair comparisons between Edelgard and a famous dictator) but I think it was effective and well used and I genuinely enjoy its use in her case. Anyway, if I had a major complaint about her design it would be the weird ashy color of her hair whereas Lysithea’s hair is pure white. Which doesn’t even matter with the AMAZING hair horns. Ram horns can actually symbolize quite a few things, but their association with power and strength is pretty universal I think. They’re also used in demonic imagery. I love that THIS was her alternative to a crown. Edelgard views herself as a force of war and power before she thinks of herself as royalty. She also mentions that she isn’t super vain, but she loves to do her hair, so the hair being the most elaborate part of her look is entirely in-character. Edelgard’s ensemble is, like Claude, very militaristic. I love that they kept her in a dress that embraces femininity without showing skin as that wouldn’t really suit her Also, again, Edelgard demands your attention. She’s dressed all in bright bright red waving around a giant axe. She is a symbol as much as she is a combatant, someone to follow. I didn’t really mention their secondary lord costumes, but a girl in sexy armor is literally everything and I love that they had the balls to put their main sexy waifu girl in full body armor.

Okay I’m sorry I realize this was excessive and probably didn’t need explaining and I’m not sure I even articulated my thoughts properly but anyway I love their designs so here is the positivity I’ll put into the world.

[imaginationofacrazyfangirl]

Imagine You are All Might’s Personal Assistant

All Might truly is the fastest man on Earth.

“What do you mean he just left? Where could he have gone?” you shout.

  The police officer shrugs giving you a pitying look. It makes you want to smack it off his young baby looking face. Unfortunately, that would be assault and you are pretty sure you’d get arrested…All Might’s personal assistant or not. Besides you don’t want to deal with the added stress of bad publicity, even if you get some joy out of it.

  “Well, we just got a call about a robbery not too far from here. Maybe he went –“baby officer barely got the words out, before you sped off shouting a loud, “Thank you!”

  Ask any personal assistant of a major superhero, what the most important ability needed for their job was, and they all answer: being able to always find your superhero. It may seem like a simple ability seeing how superheroes almost always made themselves known to the public (minus a few underground heroes like Eraserhead, who hated the spotlight), but, it isn’t so simple. Sure, you know how to easily find All Might, for that you just check online. After all, the All Might Watch Forum tends to keep a better update on the hero than the police did. No, the real trouble comes in figuring out how to get to where your hero is.

               For almost all personal assistants this is the first pain of their job.  Superhero’s often have their own means of transportation and vice versa for their sidekicks; personal assistants though generally consisted of people with average quirk abilities.  Meaning while their bosses took to the skies, teleported, or ran at breakneck pace, they themselves took taxis-or in your case ran. Luckily for you, All Might’s next heroic save happened to be only a few blocks away. An annoyance still but manageable.  You only pray now that he stays there. The hero has a horrible habit of leaving without a word.

    Thankfully luck is on your side for the first time today. All Might is still there when you arrive. His loud boisterous laughter reminding those around him that everything is alright. Besides him, a bloody villain slumps over, tied in what looks like clothed nappies?  Apparently, the robbery took places at a daycare of all places, or at least it did, if any of the cooing babies and swooning mothers had anything to say

   Pushing your way through the crowds of excited reporters and citizens, you hear All Might’s too familiar boom of , “Fear not. Because I am here!”

  You can’t help the bitter irritation rising in you. Fear not? Oh, someone is going to have something to fear. Boss or not, he’s totally going to hear it from you. However, the lecture gets put on pause as you finally make it to the front. All Might’s still there standing proudly in front of a disturbingly bland daycare front. Its simplistic lettering of ‘KIDZ LEARN ABC’S” contrasts against his glowing persona. Around him, toddlers and mothers alike drool trying for his attention, to which he spares a grin and handshake to each one.

   The sight screams All Might. It is so pure, so kind, so friendly-you must take a picture for social medial! Sliding the portable camera out of your bag, you quickly snap a couple of pics. Job number three of being a hero’s personal assistant: run their social media accounts. Most heroes with personal assistants fall into one of two categories: they are either high in ranking or up and coming. Either way, they all need someone to manage their publicity stuff.

  Despite the flash of the camera, All Might takes no notice of you. Probably due to all the ongoing flashes of media cameras around him. The attention comes with every save so he’s more than used to someone somewhere taking his picture. No, it’s not until some brown-haired reporter asks, “All Might, a word please?”

That you intervene letting your presence be known. “All Might is unfortunately needed elsewhere. So, any questions or requests for an interview about today’s current rescues can be forward to his agency.”

  The blond-haired hero stiffens besides the reporter. Sweat begins to form on his face at the sight of you. As horrible as it sounds you take great pleasure in the panic on his face. Not many people scare the great Symbol of Peace. In fact, you can only really say two other people not including yourself, have the power to make the hero squirm.

“(Y/N)- I didn’t see you there.” The hero stutters uncharacteristically.

     You shoot him your best glare, causing him to shrink back. No one will ever understand just why someone so comparably tiny and non-life threatening could have so much control over the hero. Villains came and went without him so much as breaking a sweat. Yet you with neither the power nor quirk to stop him, scare All Might.

“I saved a pre-school!” he babbled, picking up a random toddler. “See? Aren’t they the most precious thing you ever seen? Wouldn’t it be horrible if something happened to them?”

   He is milking it, and he knows it. Not only does he sound like a bumbling idiot on camera, but the toddler he chose, smells something awful. Still All Might refuses to give up. Children are your weakness. Their gummy gooey smiles make you coo every time. In fact, if you weren’t his assistant, the hero is sure you’d be a teacher.

   “All Might, we agreed on letting other heroes do the rescuing sometimes? Remember? Keeping the market open for others?” you press voice low.

  ‘ Keeping the market open for others,’ a code for ‘you’re going to run out of time.’ A hard to swallow truth, but the truth nonetheless. Not many people knew about his injury, his time limit, but you knew everything-almost everything. For your safety, he kept the truth behind his quirk a secret. His return to Japan/ his decision to take on teaching all hidden under the guise of searching for a successor.  

“Yes, well-look at these chubby cheeks!” he replied, pushing the kid towards you. Again shameless, but did he really care? No. Last time All Might angered you, he sported a pink suit for two months. And while the hero didn’t discriminate against any color, the hearts and frills were too much. “Could I really risk the chance of another hero arriving on time?”

  “All Might-“ you started only for the kid to cry, “All Might!” as well.

   You glanced over at the toddler, eyes softening. Said hero couldn’t help but feel like the cat who ate the canary. Silently he cheered for the kid to continue. If they did a really good job, All Might would send them some signed memorabilia.

  Shaking your head, you fought the doubt creeping within you. As preferable as it would be to just let the man off, you knew you couldn’t do it. Rescuing kids may take priority to most things, however not when there are other heroes perfectly capable of doing the job for him. “Don’t try and get out of this one. I’ve chased you to not two or three, but five different incidents.” You pressed. “Without flight, teleportation, or transportation! Do you know how hard it is for someone without a quirk or car to follow you?!”

All Might slumped slightly under the pressure of your lecture. Each escaping your mouth seemed to hit him worse than any supervillain could. “Not to mention you’re overdoing it again.” You lectured, ignoring the exasperated looks on his and everyone else’s face.

  You knew how people viewed. Most PA’s tended to be shy docile beings pushed around by their heroes or ignored. In fact, the average years for a PA to work under a hero ranged from two to three years, before they either quit or got fired. Those who lasted longer tended to be outliers such as yourself; people not easily cowed by the awe of their employers. As for All Might’s view of you…he knew how much you truly cared about him. It was why he kept you around despite your lecturing and harsh tactics.

  Having someone worry for him felt nice, especially given how he cared more about others than himself. A natural feeling obviously for heroes, but All Might ignored his health beyond that of usual heroes in your opinion. “You worry too much, (Y/N). I’m built to last.” He grinned, thumping his chest. “See?”

     His words did nothing to quell your fear. From day one-even before the tragic accident you worried over him; almost as if he wasn’t the world’s greatest hero just another human being. It was strange considering how used to being worshipped by even his own friends, All Might was.  Everyone saw only the smile and hero versus the man behind it. Yet you never did. To you, All Might was just a man with an extraordinary job and that…that felt nice.

    “Come on (Y/N), let’s go home. I promise to leave the rest of the saving to the other heroes for today.” All Might grinned, patting your head.

  You blinked cut off mid-rant. A warmth spread through your cheeks at the gesture, but you pushed it back. Falling in love with your hero was a big no-no in the world of PA’s. However could anyone really blame you when it came to such a selfless man like All Might?

[cinnaminsvga]

🤬 | seokjin

the sleep deprived series (n.): drabbles that i write when i’m sad and tired

→ frenemy!seokjin ft. e2l and the magnificent get-along sweater | 2K words → a/n: this is dedicated to my homie @jincherie​ who has been, as they say, wiping her ass everyday only to shit again. i can’t really do much to actually alleviate your circumstances except maybe making you smile, so i hope this can be your tiny ray of sunshine amidst the crap. this fic literally makes no sense because i wrote this within one hour so i’m sorry but pls know that ilysm!!

“Where’d you even fucking get this abomination?” you growl, struggling fruitlessly against the coarse fabric. In your fidgeting, your elbow knocks into Seokjin’s broad chest, causing more damage to your weak joints than anything. Even so, Seokjin grunts overdramatically, stepping on your toes in retaliation.

“Yoongi-chi, you know that I love you very much—” Seokjin seethes, his teeth clenched almost painfully as he fights to restrain himself from ripping the sweater in half, a la Hulk style. “—but I will not hesitate to stab you once I get out of here.”

“Not my fault that you both are acting like a bunch of toddlers,” Yoongi snorts, hip jutted out in contempt like the homosexual that he is. “And to answer your other question, I bought that sweater online after your last fight, when you two were literally wrestling on the kitchen counter. I didn’t know whether I walked into some intense BDSM play or a WWE ring.”

“You bought a fucking get-along sweater for us? What are you, some sort of Christian camp counselor?” you growl, kicking your legs out in an attempt to hit him. The slimy twink bastard jumps away gracefully, landing onto the loveseat opposite the couch that you were sitting on. He crosses his legs, opening his arms wide when your traitorous cat jumps onto his lap, looking to all the world like a terrible Bond villain from the 80s.

“If I was Christian, I would not put the two of you into a sweater together,” Yoongi says. He strokes your cat, who purrs loudly before pointing a contemptuous glare back at you, as if she was enjoying your torture too. Dumb cat. You never liked Miko anyway.

Yoongi continues, “Anyone would two eyes knows that you both are just one brawl away from fucking each other into the next dimension. Lord knows that your sexual tension could power the entire city.”

It’s Seokjin’s turn to snort, who has been relatively quiet in comparison to you. He’s also less fidgety, but that might be because he at least has the advantage and comfort of occupying 90% of the sweater space due to his oceanic shoulders. You once described him as “horizontally imbalanced,” which he did not find slightly amusing.

“I would rather place my balls into a panini press and feed them to Miko than to ever fuck Y/N,” Seokjin fake-gags, squirming uncomfortably in his seat. “It would be less hot for me to actually grill my penis than for me to sink into her hell-ish cunt. I swear, you could bake bread in there with how much yeast has accumulated from—“

You headbutt his chin before he can finish, squawking indignantly. The satisfying sound of his teeth clacking together in pain is momentary but worthwhile. “Excuse you, but it’d be an honor to fuck me! I’ve got that S-tier pussy! If my pussy was in a gacha game, people would spend thousands of dollars just to roll for my mystical coochie!”

Yoongi smirks. “So you admit that you do want Seokjin to fuck you!”

“What the fuck! No! That is—what the—I don’t!” You stammer, face flushing as you struggle to regain your footing in the conversation. Yoongi’s eyebrow raises, intrigued by your slip-up. “That is totally not what I meant, and you know it!”

Yoongi picks at his nails, pointedly avoiding eye contact. “Sorry, I don’t speak hetero. Prithee, explain thy peculiar mating rituals to one who does not walk the straight and narrow path.”

You slump back against the couch, forcing Seokjin to follow and fall backward with you. His shoulder hits you square in the boob, causing you to groan in pain. “Yoongi, just let us out of this thing before I lose a limb to this walking inflatable tubeman,” you plead, ignoring Seokjin’s glare.

“I resent that,” Seokjin inputs, but no one pays him any mind. Your attention is focused solely on the smirking kitty man in front of you, who grows smugger as time ticks on.

Everyone in your friend group is aware of the weird relationship you have with Seokjin. Ever since you met him in your freshman year of university, things were never peaceful between the two of you. It was always constant bickering, squabbling, competing… everything. Even Jungkook, Seokjin’s other sworn enemy, doesn’t argue with the elder as much as you did.

For three years, everyone just assumed it was your weird kindergarten schoolyard way of showing affection for each other, and at the beginning, it might have been. You and Seokjin, both of whom have never dated in their lifetimes despite being moderately popular while growing up, are unsurprisingly emotionally stunted and never learned how to just be nice to people you like. Affection who? Compassion where? To the both of you, physical connection can only be achieved through hair tugging and nipple pinching, and not even in the sexy way.

But at a certain point, things were starting to get tiring. Your arguments only grew larger in scale, to the point where it was getting hard to differentiate whether the bruises on your neck were from pinches or something else.

“I just… Ugh… When are they gonna fuck, hyung? I’m actually getting tired of their constant fighting,” Namjoon had lamented one afternoon, just a day after your last altercation with Seokjin. It had been a big one, where Seokjin nearly lost a tooth when you had landed a neat uppercut squarely on his jaw after he called your toes ‘a foot fetishist’s worst nightmare.’

Yoongi’s boyfriend had been staring listlessly into his bowl of soup for the past hour, and he was honestly starting to get worried when it looked like Namjoon had started muttering to himself in a foreign language. Yoongi almost thought he might have been scrying for a prophecy, begging for an answer to their most pressing question.

“What do you want me to do about it? Lock them in a room and let them out only after they’ve done the deed? Mixed bodily fluids? Performed the monkey dance to its climax?! No thanks, I don’t wanna be near them when that can of worms finally explodes,” Yoongi grimaced, shivering at the thought.

Namjoon shook his head quickly, face paling with him. “Heaven forbid. Maybe you can keep it PG? How about getting one of those get-along sweaters or something. I think they used those in kindergarten.”

Yoongi sighed. “Yeah, but the question would be how I’d get them into it.” He flaps his noodle arms around in demonstration. “I’m not exactly in the running for world’s strongest twink. Plus, years of fighting each other means they’re both stronger than I am.”

Namjoon shrugged. “Easy, just dare them to wear it. Make it into a competition. Nothing gets them more riled up than when they’re trying to outcompete each other.”

And so, that’s how the two of you had gotten stuck in a 3XXL Hello Kitty sweater that Yoongi had bought from Ebay. It has yet to be decided whether spending $40 on expedited shipping was worth it.

“Look, Yoongi-chi. We both promise that we will stop fighting once you let us out of this,” Seokjin says, smiling sweetly at him. Had Yoongi been younger and much more prone to the alluring temptation of the Straight Man™️, he might have caved. But Yoongi is older now, plus he knows when Seokjin is lying better than any polygraph test.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, waving him off. “Fat chance. You’d probably stop fighting for approximately three hours before getting mad about mint chocolate ice cream or something.”

“Hey! Give us some credit. We both agree that flavor is abhorrent, so we would never argue about that,” you retort, with Seokjin nodding furiously in agreement. You glance at him. “And I feel like we’d last at least six hours without fighting. What was our record again?”

“Five hours and twenty-two minutes,” Seokjin says.

You hum thoughtfully. “Okay, I can promise at least five hours and thirty minutes. Maybe.”

Yoongi groans, rubbing his temples in frustration. His souring mood even makes Miko jump away in fright, and the two idiots trapped in a sweater can immediately feel the dip in temperature. Uh oh, here we go!

“I am absolutely sick and tired of the two of you dumbasses fighting all the time! It’s embarrassing as hell trying to bring either of you anywhere in public because everyone mistakes your little catfights for strange foreplay or whatever,” Yoongi glowers. The two of you shrink into your seats, ashamed.

“We’ve only gotten kicked out of one Costco—” Seokjin defends. 

“But we did get fined for public indecency at the beach when I pulled your trunks down, which was totally unfair, by the way,” you mutter. 

“You literally threatened to, and I quote, ‘Suck the soul out of Seokjin’s dick until he dies.’ How the hell is that unfair?!” Yoongi exclaims. 

“It was a death threat! I would’ve accepted a charge for attempted murder, but that was not going to be a sexy blowjob, I assure you—”

Yoongi holds up a hand to silence you. “Face it, you both like each other. Whatever! Sure, you guys are the token straight people in our friend group, but that doesn’t make you bland as hell! Well, actually, it does but…” Yoongi pauses, wondering if it was worth lying. It takes a second for him to refocus. “Where was I? Oh right—“

Yoongi clears his throat, starting again. He heaves a deep breath, shoulders sagging tiredly as he puts on the sincerest face he can muster. “Listen, I just want to say that I care a lot about you, okay? And it sucks seeing the both of you hurting every time the other person says something really mean that neither of you even mean! If anything, will you please stop for me? If you really cared about our friendship, will you do it for me?”

There is a heavy pause as Yoongi strives to get his breathing back in check, his impassioned speech causing his fragile grandpa heart to race. He can feel his cheeks darkening in embarrassment, unused to using his “hyung voice” on Seokjin or you. Separately, the two of you are very reliable, never really needing him to scold either of you. Together, however… that’s a different story, but as the next eldest hyung, it really only fell to Yoongi to fix his friends’ mess of a relationship.

Screw age hierarchy. Yoongi would love to see Jungkook try to get Seokjin and you to fuck. Would absolutely pay to see the twerp squirm as he tries to even say the word “penis.”

After a while, Seokjin and you share a look. Yoongi watches with bated breath as he waits for either of you to speak, but he can sense some unspoken conversation happening between you. Perhaps, after years of exchanging blows, you had somehow knocked brain cells into each other and now share a weird psychic connection. Or, more likely, the two of you actually like each other and understand each other on a deeply personal level, so personal in fact that you could probably finish each other’s sentences, like—!

“We refuse,” you both reply in tandem, your joined voices echoing throughout the apartment. You both had said it so in sync that Yoongi might have imagined the other person speaking, but no—you both really did just say that to his face. In front of Miko. In front of his goddamn imaginary salad.

“Excuse me?” Yoongi squeaks. He cleans his ears with his fingers but finds no cotton there. These bitches! How dare they just throw his speech to the gutter! That shit took brain cells to think of, and he is not in the business of wasting his precious minutes by using them for productivity.

You shrug, leaning against Seokjin’s shoulder. He can see the ghost of a smirk tugging at your lips, thoroughly enjoying Yoongi’s confusion. “You heard us. We’ve made the executive decision to double our efforts, actually.”

Seokjin nods, not even shoving you off his shoulder like he normally would whenever you made contact with him. What? “Exactly. Honestly, we’ve been fighting for so long that we’ve kinda been just doing it for the bit at this point, and the fact that it annoys you so much is just the icing on the cake.”

Yoongi stares at them. His brain doesn’t feel like it’s connecting to his body at all; he feels like he’s floating. “So. What you’re saying is—“

“We know we like each other. Whatever. But we also like fighting, so who gives a shit if we’re having fun at the end of the day?” you shrug, pinching Seokjin’s cheek for good measure. As per usual, the elder retaliates by grabbing your finger with robot-like accuracy, before biting you there like a ravaging beast.

“And before you ask, no, we aren’t really dating. Yet. We kinda just wanted to piss as many people off before actually becoming official. We honestly didn’t think that you’d be the first one to crack.” Seokjin says, your finger falling from his mouth. The imprint of his teeth marks on your skin are plain as day, but you don’t look remotely bothered by it. In fact, you’re practically cooing at his ‘baby teefies’ like a psychopath.

“I—“ Yoongi stutters, at a loss for words for once in his life. He stands from the chair, but his knees give out from under him, causing him to tumble to the carpeted floor. He holds his head in his hands, shell-shocked. “So… That means…”

“Yeah, we’re kinda just freaky, I guess.” You muse before laughing hysterically when Yoongi begins to sob. “Hey, you’re right! We did make Yoongi cry! Do you think we could make Namjoon piss himself in rage when he finally confronts us too?”

Seokjin cackles, shaking your hand underneath the sweater. “If anyone can do it, I know that we can.”

And so, the two of you stand up clumsily to your feet, not bothering to escape the ridiculous sweater as you both waddled out of Yoongi’s apartment. From outside his door, Yoongi hears the sound of a new fight commencing, your shrieks resonating down the hall and for all the world to hear.

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

OH MY GOD YOU HAVE TO CONTINUE THE DROWNED SERIES, IT'S SO DAMN GOOD

Thank you for the ask, it makes me excited to see that people are still interested.

Drowning Part 10

@shydragonrider @asrasmysoulmate @sunflower1000

This one is kind of short, and probably makes no sense, but it starts to explain the story line a bit more and what my goal is with Supervillain (and perhaps the reason I am not having him rescued... yet 👀). Anyway, not edited.

Ask games for this series are here and here.

Masterlist

Warnings: referring to person as "it", altered state of reality, dehumanization, muzzled, talk of surgery, weaponizing a human, fear

~

"Okay thank you for your cooperation," the director said as he stopped the recording. He looked up, smiled, and began to pack away his things- an array of various instruments to enable both Villain and Hero's voices to be clearly heard all the way at the Hero Facility.

"Yeah well, I expect my pay within the next two days," Villain crossed his arms and swung his leg over top of the other one.

"That may not be-"

"Director. I am doing this for you guys. I have my record cleared, Hero in my custody, and a billionaire. I don't need to this for you guys."

"But you are in love with the cash," Hero chimed in, rolling her forestry green eyes. Not with attitude or snarky annoyance, but out of pure loathing.

Villain shot her a glare the second she closed her mouth and stood up, pacing. "I want my pay, fifty-thousand for a mere conversation isn't something you come by everyday," he said, rubbing his hands through his blonde mane.

"Yes but-"

"The only reason it was fifty-thousand," Hero interrupted the director. "Is because you pushed it that far." She didn't exactly understand her exasperation. After all, she agreed to do this with him- not that she had a choice. She was, in fact, thankful for him for breaking her out of the facility, even to the point of restoring friendship.

"Well they consented..." Villain's voice trailed off as he stopped his aimless walking. He sneered, a mischievous look dawning on his face. "I could, just for the record, break Supervillain out of his cell easily. Actually, I bet a novice could."

The director stiffened, fingers tapping the screen on his phone, prepare to call the authorities. Hero smiled slightly. After her aided escape, the heroes didn't bother to recapture her or Villain. And it was all because her rescuer threatened the Hero Facility if they tried to reclaim her. It was like he controlled the heroes- and maybe in a way, he did.

"Okay you will get the money! Write him a check or cash him over some. I don't care, just give it to him."

Villain snickered at the director's desperation and fear.

Hero watched as a young girl scribbled a check and handed it to Villain. Then, after than transaction, the whole team wrapped up and left without another word.

"Hmm," Villain said, eyeing the check he possessed.

"What do you want for dinner?" Hero asked, repeating the lines her current maid position required of her- not that she had to, Villain was not strict enough to enforce rules, but cleaning and cooking seemed to put his explosiveness at ease.

"Nothing. I have a date."

A date?!

"You have a girlfriend?" Hero chuckled. "Who is the unlucky damsel?"

"That's besides the point, but she is quite pretty."

"How long have you been dating?"

"This is our third date within the course of two months."

Two months... that was duration of time since she and Supervillain were kidnapped.

"Not that consistent then," Hero commented instead of voicing her curiosity.

"She works as a nurse, so she is quite busy," Villain replied, folding the check and placing it in his jean's pockets.

"I see," Hero replied. "Where is your date? Please tell me you are not taking her to McDonald's."

"That coffee date in the park sounded great," Villain replied. "Then I was thinking Taco Bell."

"No, no, no!" Hero scolded, pushing herself to her feet. "You are not taking this poor girl on a date to a fast food restaurant. You are a billionaire, Villain. Take her to one of those places where they serve an ounce of food for thirty dollars and spoil her."

Villain blushed, pulling at his fingers nervously. "You know a couple months ago I thought I would be taking you on a date."

"Me too," Hero sighed, placing her hands on her hips.

"I guess life took a turn, didn't it?"

"Yes," Hero replied, extending her arms and wrapping Villain in an embrace. Before she let go, she whispered:

"Torture was in that turn to, wasn't it?"

Villain's muscles tensed, he coughed and pulled away. "See you tonight," he said and ran up the stairs to go get changed.

《~~》

All at once, a piece of light, a string of consciousness sprouted through the dark unconsciousness of the patient's mind. It swirled, bombarding lidded eyes with intolerable brightness. They strained, trying to shut, but it was as if the motor lost control- or gained control, depending on which side of the metaphor you are one.

Then the light formed into various shapes, some holding objects of humanoid form whereas others were cubical, rectangular and circular- making the world around the patient pixelated and blurry. Colors rounded to the basis of their hue- cyan swirling into blue, pale yellow whisking itself into an off-white- until the world was a pallette of bland coloring.

The noise, lolling in a sense, but also increasingly obnoxious. Beeps and rings, rumbles and grumbles, but all the vowels and consonants equaled a series of off-tune words, some faded, others marked with clarity.

Not safe, were the only cognitive thoughts. Not safe not safe not safe. He tried to thrash, anything to get away from the looming danger, though his protruding limbs were too weak, will devoid of any resolve.

More sounds rumbled and purred around him as equally slow restraints grappled at his arms and legs- or were they fast paced? The man didn't know. The perception between reality and unreality was dim, as was his ability to process sleed and direction. Heck, he didn't even know his own name, just the anticipated danger.

He coughed, or tried to, some form of blockade in his mouth inhibited any sound, cough or otherwise, to escape. Tears pricked at his eyes, later streaming down his cheeks- he wanted to go home. Home to that dank apartment that couldn't seem to leave his very intellect. He wanted home, needed home...

The shapes around him once again began to evaporate, but this time instead of mixing into like shades and tones of color, they all shifted to one mass of brown-colored mud before it all vanished into blackness again.

《~~》

"Vitals?"

The doctor's voice ran throughout the room as nurses scrambled to check Supervillain over. The room soon sung with a chorus of "Good".

"Then everyone is dismissed other than Doctor and Medic," a new voice, equally as authoritive yet significantly much more of a feminine type.

All the nurses practically galloped out of the room as a hoard, not daring to look at the woman who just stepped in.

"Leader," the doctor greeted the woman. "What brings you here?"

"I've come to look at the project. I heard it just underwent surgery?" The lady spoke, walking up to the bed where the unconscious patient rested.

"Yes, knee replacement surgery," the doctor replied, joining Leader by the bed. Medic appeared across from them, tenderly rubbing her fingers over the supervillain's hand.

"Fifteen hours on the table," Leader continued to speak, observing Supervillain with contempt in her gaze. "Why?"

"We had to replace the entire knee cap with a newly engineered material made from cells of donors and a type of substance formed from titanium to enhance strength and durability. Then we had to connect the nerves and ligaments to the knee so he can control it like normal."

"Also known as a high-tech prosthetic? Why, may I ask, did my project have to get one?"

"Broken knee..."

"Shattered, Doctor," gray eyes darted around to meet the doctor's humble brown ones. "Not broken, but completely shattered. It needs to be fully operational by the end of the month."

"Ma'am, the recovery is going to be rough-" the doctor tried to protest.

"We have serums for that," Leader groaned, throwing her head into the air.

"It is not safe to drug him with much. His cells and blood need to adapt."

"I don't care. I put a lot of time and effort and money into this project. The enemy is going to launch an attack soon, our spies have gathered enough data to anticipate it by the end of the month. You have been soft Doctor, in his training."

"It's been working," the doctor reasoned.

"It's submission, not training. Ever hear of conditioning?"

"I have done some research into it and I believe that we need to take a more-"

"Yes you are right," Leader smiled. "I don't want a bodyguard. I want a weapon with one, single purpose. Eliminate Hero."

"I don't get that," Medic spoke up, her voice soft, yet filled with courage. "Why get rid of Hero when she is not the enemy?"

Leader chuckled, eyes thinkling. "What an ignorant little girl, so cute though. Did you do your make-up today? Hmm." The baby talk rapidly switched to a more serious tone, "She is a threat, even bigger than this newfound enemy. The moment she joins sides, which we know she will, the odds will be... let's say any attempt to stop them will be suicide."

"We contained her once before..."

"She will be mad, you'll see," Leader acquired a distant look in her dreary gray eyes. "Start weaponizing it. Immediately."

《~~》

Run.

Duck.

Jump.

"I love you."

"Love you more."

Punch.

Supervillain was panting for breath by the time he collapsed on the ground, exhausted to the highest extent. Sweat beaded around his hairline- recently trimmed in a convenient, yet flashy style, with a lightning bolt shaved into the side.

"I love you."

"Love you more."

Supervillain groaned, rubbing shaking hands over his face. Turn it off turn it off turn if off...

Everyday started with a morning workout in the gym. The gym had a track running around the whole thing with obstacles for him to duck under and jump over. The center only had a punching bag and a benchpress, but equally sweaty and daunting.

Suddenly, the loudspeaker rang, signaling that Supervillain could leave.

Once, of course, training was done.

Workouts weren't training, they were extra credit designed to get him further, to get him a higher GPA.

The doctor entered the room, so Supervillain stood up- respect, expected and therefore delivered.

"How many laps?"

"Twenty-five, sir."

The doctor took note of that on his clipboard, frowning before asking his speed.

"5 miles per hour, sir."

This time, the doctor smiled. "Good," he praised, then looked at the benchpress.

"Three hundred pounds," the doctor tapped the dumbbell with his pen, still grinning widely. "Nice work, but yesterday you did three-fiftey."

Supervillain whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. He failed he failed he failed he failed.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, proceeding to walk towards the nearby intern to receive the needed correction.

The intern raised her hands, holding a contraption of metal and leather, and slipped it into Supervillain's mouth. He whimpered upon feeling the cold metal slid onto his tongue. A leather strap held it in place, tightly buckled in the back of his head. From that extended more leather that went over his nose. A chain was linked through the nasal strap, more cold metal on warm skin.

Abruptly, he was pulled forward. The metal pinched that nerve- the one that always ached from the commonly given treatment.

The intern pulled him into yet another white room.

Yet this one contained the most dreaded torture implement.