#really though i think at its heart i just think its funny to draw zero beat killing and violence

[wr0ngwarp]

the context behind this image is hard to explain .

[tera-starstorm]

your terastal heart

So. by this point you may know that yasuta did arceus a favor in PL:A. long story short once he was sent home arceus sent jirachi to grant his deepest wish and it was just yoinked from his brain rather than giving him time to think about it. as a result yuki, who died very young, is alive again!

hey surprise i am alive and still drawing funny pictures Erm anyways. yeah the terapagos fight went a little differently in the floretverse so let me explain a little

HOWEVER! yuki's soul was never really resting. he sort of just followed yasuta around until becoming a phantump. he still followed him around just with a physical form now. eventually yasuta notices and opts to keep him around because this phantump is clearly attached but HE DOES NOT KNOW THIS THING IS HIS BROTHER. so imagine his surprise when jirachi grants his wish and his fucking phantump turns into his brother.

what's important to note about this is that yuki, to a degree, still has some lingering pokemon DNA. it's why he has those weird red pupils among other things. without going into depth it makes him a human sponge for terastal energy. the problem is only the pokemon part of him can handle it. the human part can't. if he absorbs too much it basically threatens to tear the pokemon half from the human half. it crystallizes him like how the AI professor does during the paradise protection protocol segment of their battle basically. it hurts, saps his energy, and could kill him if allowed to progress.

this is not to say he can't handle some terastal energy. he can! he can use the tera orb just fine, though touching it tingles a little. he can be around regular tera crystals and do tera raids fine. HOWEVER! area zero's crystals are dangerous for him and get even more dangerous the further down you go. needless to say the area where terapagos lies has terastal energy so strong he can feel it physically.

so. when terapagos emits its own uncontrollable energy and nearly hits kieran. And somebody else steps in. yeah things don't go super great. terapagos absorbing terastal energy and therefore interrupting the crystallization process repeatedly bought enough time to end the battle without yuki just fucking dying. so yeah there was a lot at stake here and kieran really DID need to step in. narratively it's about him seeing that yuki is not infallible and realizing they stand on equal ground but the symbolism isn't what i am explaining i just wanted to explain what is at stake

i need to do a followup of this explaining the emotional impact on the characters and the narrative purpose of it all but i felt it pertinent to give a rundown of what happens physically and WHY it's so dangerous. i have to explain the whole tera heart thing eventually too but yknow. that's also a symbolic thing

[seijorhi]

Thirty Seven Seconds

Soulmate AU commission for @pokemonfreak666, hope you like it, bby!

Bakugou Katsuki x Female Reader, Kirishima Eijiro x Female Reader

TW non-con, minor character death, nsfw

Part II

It’s funny how easily the things you think are important get pushed aside and forgotten when everything goes to shit.

For over twenty years you’ve watched the timers on your wrists slowly tick down, day by day, hour by hour, second by second. Separated only by a fraction of a second, counting down to the exact moment you’d meet your soulmates. And for as long as you can remember, those two timers have meant everything to you.

Twenty-four hours out, and you could barely focus, buzzing with nervous anticipation.

Twelve hours. Six. An hour and forty five. Down the timers tick.

Nine minutes.

Five and a half.

Two. 

It’s hard to describe the almost dizzying excitement you felt walking down the street, your arm looped with your friend’s. Giddy and grinning like a fool, it’d felt like nothing in the world could possibly touch you - you were moments away from meeting the ones - your soulmates, your happily ever after. 

And even though the timers never lied, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes peeled, desperately searching for an early glimpse of them while your friend (two months away from meeting her own) just rolled her eyes and laughed good-naturedly. 

Thirty seven seconds out, and the ground shook as an explosion ripped through the sky.

Funnily enough, you don’t remember too much after that. Just a wave of searing heat, an aftershock that knocks you clean off your feet and the sound of your best friend screaming.

There’s a hard body colliding with yours, the smell of burnt sugar and musk choking the air around you-

“Oi, shitty hair, get the other one!”

And then there’s nothing.

—

You wake up in the hospital hours later and a nurse with a sombre face tells you that your friend didn’t make it, and for the first time in years your soulmates are the furthest thing from your mind.

It was a villain attack, some no-name wannabe trying to make a reputation for himself. It doesn’t really matter, you don’t really care. 

It’s all white noise.

She tells you that you have visitors if you’re feeling up to it - the two Pro Heroes who rescued you stuck around to come see if you were okay, but you just shake your head. 

It’s not their fault, you know that, but the timers stopped ticking and your best friend died and you’re honestly not sure whether you’ll ever be able to reconcile those two things in your head. 

You spend just under a week in hospital, and every day they come to see you.

They never make it past the nurses station.

—

Two days after you’re discharged, there’s a rough pounding at your front door. 

You know, even before you glance through the peephole that it’s them. And even with your hand resting on the doorknob, your heart hammering away inside of your chest, there’s a part of you that wants to walk away, to shut them out entirely until they get the message that you’re not interested.

But it’s not their fault, you remind yourself, and you can’t be cruel.

Tentatively, you twist the knob and let the door swing open just a touch, catching on the chain deadbolt. 

The sight of the two towering Pro Heroes - Dynamight and Red Riot, unmistakable even out of their Hero costumes - standing out in the hall would be enough to set anybody on edge, but it’s the way their gazes snap towards you, red eyes zeroing in like you’ve caught them in the middle of a conversation that makes your heart squeeze uncomfortably.

They know. They have to. 

“H-hello?”

The blond’s still scowling, but the redhead (Kirishima, a voice inside your head supplies. He was your friend’s favourite, wasn’t he?) grins brightly at you.

“Hey babe! Y’know, you’re one tough chick to get ahold of,” he laughs, and your eyes flicker to Bakugou’s just in time to see the muscle in his jaw twitch. “Mind if we come in, sweetheart?”

Your stomach twists at the casual endearment, even more so when you catch sight of the pink and red flowers in his hand.

The polite thing to do would be to say yes; soulmates or not they did technically save your life and they deserve that much at least, but you just- 

You can’t. 

Not when you buried your friend yesterday. You need time. You need space. You’re just not in the right place and now… you’re not sure if you ever will be.

Swallowing tightly, you nibble on your bottom lip, “Um… look, I-I’m really sorry, but-”

“Nah, fuck this shit,” Bakugou snaps. “Move,” and you have all of a split second to process the command before his foot’s on the door and it’s splintering inwards, ripping the deadbolt clean off.

A shriek tears its way free as you flinch in on yourself, and vaguely you register Kirishima loudly chastising him, but you can’t focus on that when the blond’s hand is on your arm, fingers digging in, dragging you unceremoniously inside.

“Shut up, Kiri. ‘m not gonna let her push us away because she’s too fuckin’ stubborn for her own good.”

And then those red, glaring eyes are fixed on you, and it feels like you’re a little rabbit, caught in the maw of a hungry wolf. “What are you- stop!” you cry as he painfully yanks you forward again, this time in the direction of your open bedroom. 

But Bakugou doesn’t listen, doesn’t even pause, and despite his earlier protests, neither does Kirishima.

It’s too fast, too sudden- 

Your heart is pounding, fear gripping at your throat, squeezing. You don’t understand what’s happened, why they’ve forced their way inside your home, why they’re hurting you.

“Wait, please! I-I don’t-”

“You don't what, princess?! You’re our soulmate, aren’t you?” he snarls, and you can only sob. “Then just…” he breaks off with a frustrated huff, “just shut up and enjoy this.”

Against two Pro Heroes, you never stood a chance. 

It’s all too easy for Kiri to manhandle you back onto the bed, impossibly strong arms encircling your torso, drawing you back to prop you up against his chest while Bakugou busies himself with your lower half. Clothes are ripped off of you, greedy hands palming at exposed flesh, and you choke on another sob as heated red eyes gaze up at you from between your forcibly spread thighs.

The first lick of his tongue against your sex has you keening, writhing against the redhead’s grip. It’s useless - Kiri has no intentions of letting you go anywhere, and Bakugou only growls, fingers tightening on the meat of your thighs as he pushes his tongue further between your folds.

He eats you out like a man starved - sucking and slurping gracelessly at your cunt, messily, with no rhythm or technique, fucking his tongue into you while you shake and tearfully beg for him to stop. Yet you can’t fight the shameful warmth that burns at your cheeks, the way your toes curl and your breath stutters when he decides to add two fingers into the mix.

“Please,” you sniffle, choking back another moan as his tongue wraps around your clit and he suckles the swollen bud, but neither one of your soulmates pays the cry any heed.

You can feel Kiri’s own hardening cock nudging at your lower back as he plays with your tits, cooing at you and laughing when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger just as Bakugou’s fingers hit that sensitive bundle of nerves and you scream, shaking and trembling in his grip.

“Yeah, you like that baby? You like Bakugou eating your pussy out?” His lips trail along the curve of your neck, sucking hot, wet, open mouthed kisses against the tender flesh while he ruts his hips against you. “Don’t go all shy on us now, wanna hear how good we’re making our pretty girl feel.” 

And while his fingers relentlessly pump into your dripping cunt, Bakugou pulls back, lower jaw shining and wet with your juices, and grins, “Course she fuckin’ likes it. Little slut’s practically clamping down on my tongue with how badly she wants to cum.” His smirk deepens, something dark and feral burning in those crimson depths as his tongue darts out to lick at his lips, “But we’re just getting started, aren’t we princess? Gonna fuck you till you’re a drooling fucking mess, begging for your soulmates’ cocks, and you’re gonna love every damned second of it.”

Trapped between the two of them - your soulmates, the two people on earth who’re supposed to love you, protect you - you can only sob.

[fullmetalscullyy]

Yes soft Royai!!!!

Can you write: and only one pillow, so A used B's chest or stomach

(I truly cannot even decide which version I like better slakdfjsdlk;f)

dsafsgd i loooooove that prompt tysm for sending it!! i hope you enjoy! <3

send me a prompt

rated: t | words: 2258  | tags: royai, there was only one bed, fluff, waking together, cuddling, royai banter

read on ao3

“Take the pillow.”

“No, it’s all right. I can use my jacket –”

“Take the pillow.”

“Sir, no, it’s okay –”

Riza watches as the Colonel sighs heavily, and she knows he’s resisting the urge to look heavenward or throw his arms up in the air in frustration. He wouldn’t need to if he’d stop being so stubborn and just take the damn pillow.

“You’re not sleeping on a jacket when there’s a perfectly good pillow right there.” He glares at her, but there is nothing malicious behind his eyes. Just a fire that equals her own.

“What are you going to use,” Riza counters accusingly, “because then you will be left with nothing to sleep on.”

He just huffs, having no answer for her. Silence ensues, descending upon the room as they glare at one another, neither backing down.

Riza’s shoulders slowly start to relax after a few moments, and she sighs.

The Colonel’s do the same and he averts his gaze momentarily before glancing back at her, a small smile on his face. The fire in his eyes is gone for now. “Truce?”

She rolls her eyes at him, but she still smiles at his antics.

“This is a ridiculous thing to be arguing about,” he chuckles.

“I know,” Riza relents.

“It would help if you weren’t so stubborn.” There’s a twinkle of mischief in his eye, letting her know he is just teasing her.

“The same can be said for you.”

He sticks his tongue out at her.

“We can share it,” the Colonel offers. “It’s…” His smile turns sheepish, and he looks uncertain of himself. “It’s not ideal, I know. And only of you’re comfortable with it, of course,” he adds quickly for reassurance. “I know it’s hardly appropriate for us to share.”

As if she’d ever be uncomfortable sharing a bed with him, but Riza still appreciates his thoughtfulness and the offer.

Always the gentleman.

“It would prevent further argument,” she muses.

“It would,” he agrees with a smirk.

“Then I think it’s worth going ahead with it, sir.”

“Of course,” he replies smoothly. “For team morale, we really should.”

Riza smirks at their banter and shakes her head fondly. She reaches into her bag and extracts the pyjamas she’d packed for their trip.

It’s not good professionally, however they don’t have much of a choice, aside from deciding which one of them would sleep on the bed and who would get the floor. They’d already argued about who would take a simple pillow, so that argument would end up being much longer and grander than their previous one.

The bed is small and is the only one in the room. The sheet looks thin and not very warm, and there is one, single pillow on the bed. The room is sparsely furnished, but that doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Riza was hoping there would at least be a cushion from a chair they’d be able to use after they discovered their sleeping predicament, but the single chair was wooden and bare of any form of comfort. Much like the rest of the room.

This was the last time Riza would let the Colonel book their accommodation for a trip.

He walked into the bathroom of their hotel room to change. She doesn’t know why he felt the need to change in there but leaves him to it and doesn’t question it. They are both above and beyond that. If that’s what he wants or needs to do to try and keep some semblance of a barrier between them, then so be it. It’s understandable. They will already be sleeping in the same bed that night, so perhaps its an effort to try and salvage some professionalism before they willingly choose to careen wildly away from it.

It’s a tight squeeze in the bed, which Riza thinks Roy looks far too happy about.

“There’s not a lot of room, is there?” To emphasise his point, his head rolls and slips off the pillow and onto the mattress. He tuts to himself quietly.

Riza rolls her eyes. “Come here,” she insists. She places a hand on the back of his neck after he cranes it up to look at her and guides it over. She rests his head on her collarbone and Roy stills. She can hear him swallow and Riza has an inkling of what may be going through his mind.

They’d been close like this before for years, so she has no qualms with the current position of his head. It’s almost frightening how easy it is to give in, but Riza doesn’t dwell on it. She’s tired, they’re both adults, and they’ve already dived headfirst into impropriety. What is one more occurrence at this point, while he’s mostly curled up against her body as they share a bed?

“How thoughtful of you, Lieutenant.” He sounds surprised, all teasing and jokes gone from his tone.

“It’s only because I don’t want your head rolling backwards and smacking off the wall behind you in your sleep.”

He pouts.

“I don’t want to have to deal with you having a concussion.”

“Fair point. Oh, what a shame,” he sighs as he eagerly drapes his arm across her waist. He grips on tightly and it makes a warmth spread through Riza’s entire body. “I’ll just have to hold on tight to make sure I don’t hurt my head.” He makes it sound like it’s a hardship, but the glee in his expression tells another story. “If there’s only one pillow then I’ll just have to use you instead, Lieutenant.”

He’s definitely far too happy about their predicament. Riza is tempted to narrow her eyes at him because he’d booked the accommodation. He’d handled it all. She wondered if somehow he’d managed to do this on purpose.

Riza really wouldn’t put it passed him.

“Now, no funny business through the night, Miss Hawkeye,” he adds as he burrows into her. His head finds a comfortable position in the crook of her neck. His breath tickles the skin on show and heats it considerably. Roy shuffles closer so he’s pressed up against her side and hooks his leg across both of hers. He clings onto her like a spider monkey, as if he would fall off the bed if he didn’t, despite being against the wall and there being zero risk of that happening.

Riza is really starting to think he did this on purpose.

She snorts. “Well, you certainly don’t need to worry about that,” she assures him wholeheartedly.

“Ouch,” he laughs.

Not that she’d complain, really, because this feels incredibly wonderful, and her heart is doing summersaults inside her chest. While Roy’s joy was obvious on his face, hers is present too, she’s just better at hiding it. She always has been.

“Go to sleep, Roy,” she commands lightly. Her stomach flips at the thought they’re falling asleep against one another and takes a moment longer to relish in how he’s holding her and how close they are.

“Goodnight, Riza,” he murmurs quietly.

A smile slowly spreads across her face as she feels him press a kiss to the bare skin beneath her collarbone.

When Riza wakes in the morning she’s on her side looking out into the hotel room. Roy’s arm is tight around her waist, and she’s been drawn into his chest. His head rests almost atop hers, but the weight is not crushing or uncomfortable. He certainly didn’t need to lie almost on top of her – the pillow was not that small in size – but they’re even closer now than they had been before falling asleep and a thrill flies through Riza at the thought.

His other hand has snaked underneath her neck so she’s almost lying on his bicep. Both of their hands are joined atop the pillow in front of her face, fingers entwined tightly together.

Even in sleep they’d instinctively found each other.

It’s the best night sleep Riza’s had in a long time.

“Good morning,” he hums against her. He’s been awake for a while, she thinks, simply enjoying holding her. Really enjoying it. Riza can tell without asking him.

“I thought you said no funny business,” Riza remarks tiredly, but she doesn’t particularly mind. Not when this is the most comfortable and at peace she’s felt in a long time.

Behind her, Roy hums quietly in her ear but doesn’t answer. He simply buries his face deeper into the crook of her neck and presses a kiss against her skin. “I don’t recall promising no funny business.”

That’s a good point, Riza thinks, he did only direct his playful comment towards her, however the thought soon disappears because Roy continues to press kisses against her throat, making her sigh instead. He moves slowly down to her shoulder, taking his time to pepper her skin with as many kisses as possible. The arm that had been wrapped tightly around her waist moves away and while she mourns the security and comfort of his hold, she gets to revel in how his palm comes to rest upon her shoulder. He doesn’t grip on, his touch is gentle and comfortable, and he uses it to steady himself as he leans forward to kiss her cheek.

Riza rolls over and can’t help but smile up at him. On one side of his head his hair is sticking up in every direction. There’s a silly, happy smile on his face, making him look years younger than he is, and Riza finds it’s a look she could get used to – Roy, smiling down at her in the morning after they wake up together.

It will never come to pass but experiencing it just this once is enough for Riza. It’s a moment she knows she will cherish for the rest of her life.

“Only having one pillow ended up working out for the best,” he quipped.

Riza lifted an eyebrow at him. “I’m not sure I approve. I was lead to believe this is wildly inappropriate for us, sir.”

She notes how he swallows after she uses his honorific. The look in his eye changes, a new emotion flashing through him. “I don’t care,” Roy murmurs as he leans down. His lips brush against hers, making Riza’s eyes flutter closed. He pulls away too quickly for Riza though, and she lifts her hand to the back of his head, drawing him back for a longer, lingering kiss. She can feel him smiling against her lips.

“I thought you were opposed to this, that it was wildly inappropriate?” He’s teasing her, stealing another kiss.

“Roy?”

Riza pulls away abruptly and he blinks at her, mild concern on his face as he waits for her to continue.

“Shut up.”

He breaks out into a grin and snorts loudly. “Duly noted.”

“Plus, you started this,” she accuses lightly, “I’m simply finishing it.”

“Oh?” Roy pulls away this time, and Riza didn’t think it was possible, but his grin is even wider as excitement overtakes his features. “I’m not sure I did. I think we’re both guilty of it, but do tell how you intend to finish this, Miss Hawkeye?” He can barely contain his delight.

“Stop talking and maybe you’ll find out.”

He actually pretends to zip his mouth closed and throw away the key. Riza can’t stop the laugh that bubbles inside her chest and escapes. It makes him smile and he wraps his arms around her tightly as she cups his face, pulling him back down onto the bed to join her.

After they break apart from a rather passionate embrace, Roy gazes down at her. His eyes roam across her face and Riza watches as they do so, content to look at him. One of his hands lifts to brush a stray hair from her cheek and he tucks it tenderly behind her ear. His fingers trace a line from her scalp to her chin as his expression softens, and so does his smile.

“I would do anything for you, my love.”

The sentiment is unexpected. It catches Riza off guard, but not unpleasantly. It causes her love for him to suddenly surge within her chest. It’s always present, every day, but their night together has caused a resurgence in feelings she has learned to bury in her day-to-day life. Despite how dangerous they are, she lets herself feel them. She embraces it because she wants to. Because she needs to every now and again. With the way he’s currently looking at her, with so much affection and adoration, there’s no way Riza can resist anyway. It makes her impulsive and she gently tugs him back down to her, pausing when there are only centimetres between them. Just enough space so she can still look into his eyes.

“I love you,” she breathes.

His head tips forward so his forehead comes to rest against hers. “You are my life,” he replies, almost overwhelming her. Tears creep into her eyelids, but do not fall. “I love you with my whole heart, Riza Hawkeye, and I have done so for years.”

She laughs, almost choking on the emotions brewing pleasantly within her. She cracks a smile, stroking the skin of his cheek lovingly with her thumb. He turns his head, pressing a kiss against the inside of her wrist.

“As have I. That will never change.”

Her words light up his entire face, painting his features with pure elation.

Only having one pillow really did end up working out for the best.

[lightns881]

DTeam Tumblr Demographics Survey Results (Part 2):

What does DTeamblr look like, what does it have to do with MCYT history, and why does it look like a rainbow?

I’ll make an educated guess here and say y'all enjoyed my last post (totally unrelated to the way I gained almost 50 followers overnight). Anyhow, thank you so much for the overwhelming support! I’m so glad a lot of you felt you could relate to my deep-dive into the leading personality type on DTeam Tumblr. It took me so many hours to write and research, and as a math major and honors student, it’s no easy feat, so I’m so grateful for the attention it got!

Today we’re discussing the general demographics of DTeam Tumblr and why they might look the way they do. Number 8 will blow your mind! So make sure to keep reading and hit that little grey heart and arrow at the bottom if you like it, so more people get to see it! Thanks for your support! Now, let’s jump straight into the post!

Your Daily Dose of Data

From the 449 responses we received, these are some pie charts displaying the gender, age, and sexuality of all respondents.

Image Description: Female (52.8%), Non-Binary (37.4%), Male (9.8%)

Image Description: 16-17 (37%), 13-15 (31.4%), 18 and over (29.4%), 12 and under (2.2%)

Image Description: Bisexual/Pansexual (54.1%), Homosexual (16%), Asexual (14.7%), Other (7.8%), Heterosexual (7.3%)

Mmhm, delicious! Y'all ready to dig into these stats? Because I don’t know about you, but they certainly don’t strike me as what the general population looks like!

Welcome to Tumblr, the Only Community Where Straight Men are the Minority

So these statistics certainly didn’t take me by surprise. Mostly because the DNF Shipper Survey I took some time ago revealed a similar trend. Not to mention, Tumblr is probably the QUEEREST internet community on the planet. 

Funny enough, the survey revealed a shocking number of ZERO heterosexual males respondents. I’ll say it louder for the people in the back. ZERO straight males were recorded out of 449 respondents for this survey!

Now, this isn’t surprising for the Tumblr community by itself, but I can say I’m somewhat surprised in terms of the MCYT Tumblr community. (Obviously, the survey specified DTeam Tumblr, but there is a big overlap between both communities, so I will be using them interchengably when it seems relevant.)

Let’s break this down. The survey reveals the largest age population is 16-17, though it’s not by a great margin in comparison to 13-15 and 18 and older, which doesn’t surprise me either. Some of the major critics of the DTeam Fandom and other MCYT Fandoms love to claim the fanbase’s majority age range lies with children and pre-teens. While it’s an undeniable fact children are drawn to Minecraft, it’s also a misconception to paint it as solely a community for younger viewers.

In the MCYT Tumblr and DTeam Tumblr communities, specifically, we see this is not the case. Only 1/3 of the respondents of this survey are under the age of 16 (you could attribute part of it to the fact younger people might be less inclined to participate in this survey, but it is still a notable difference). I can’t say these age ranges are similar in other parts of the community like DTeam Twitter, Tik Tok, or Reddit, but if I had to make a guess, I’d say Tumblr lies toward the older of the bunch, with Reddit being the oldest and Tik Tok being the youngest (I do hope to perform this survey on some of the other communities, so please stay until the end if you want to help with that).

One of the likely explanations to why the ages for DTeam Tumblr look this way is the fact a big chunk of the community has likely been watching MCYT for a long time (even with breaks in between). I, myself, used to watch channels like PopularMMOs, Aphmau, and PrestonPlayz as a kid, and I presume many of you are familiar with them as well. With the resurgence of MCYT in the past year, it likely drew a lot of the older viewers in addition to the new ones.

But enough about age. What I really want to highlight on this post is the attraction of queer individuals to DTeam Tumblr and MCYT as a whole.

Why is the current MCYT Fandom so queer in comparison to the previous generations?

This is a huge open-ended question and considering I can only capture so much of the DTeam and MCYT community, the rest of this post should be taken solely as a theoretical analysis as opposed to fact.

With that out of the way, let’s start by discussing the shift MCYT has undergone over the years (I promise this will circle back to the question of queerness in the MCYT fandom, but we need some background before we can come up with a decent theory).

When Minecraft was first released, it proved to be a monumental change in the gaming industry. This simple little indie game took the world by storm. It was so vastly different from what the general population generally viewed gaming as (first-person shooters, story-driven games, action games, etc.) Not to mention, it didn’t exactly solely appeal to only a small margin of gamers, those being white cis males.

The gaming industry has notoriously been known in the past for its heteronormative community and general prejudice toward minorities. Though it has gone through a significant change over the decades, we certainly can’t say it’s fully gone.

Yet for whatever reason, the recent MCYT has taken the interest of so many queer people in comparison to other gaming YouTube communities. Why? Why are queer people so drawn to this community? And, more precisely, why does it feel so different than the old MCYT? Lastly, how does this relate to the conclusion about the leading personalities of this fandom we made in the last post?

The Niche Communities of MCYT Over the Years

MCYT has always been a huge, over-saturated genre of YouTube with content appealing to a variety of audiences. It’s dominated gaming content for years, and I think we can all safely say it’s never been bigger than it is today.

So why is it that just now it feels like the queerness of the fandom is popping off? Why now as opposed to say five years ago when MCYT was at another one of it’s strongest stages?

It seems like the community has made a tremendous shift in relation to breaking gender norms and LGBTQ+ subjects, not only in the fans but within the creators themselves. Was flirting and calling a pretty-boy streamer pet names as normal in the past as it is today? Were straight gamer guys putting on dresses and a full-face of make-up as supported back then? Were “marriages” and “pregnancies” within Minecraft boys an everyday occurrence like they are now? How is it that MCYT has dominated a Twitch dating show where flirting with the gay host and among straight contestants themselves is just another bit of entertainment? Where is this all coming from?

Recently, I watched a 2 hour documentary depicting all of the stages of Minecraft YouTube and how it has changed over the years. If you haven’t seen it and you have some time to spare, I HIGHLY recommend it! It’s very informative, and it honestly gave me such a strong sense of nostalgia that makes me choke up every time I think about it. I’ll link it below.

The documentary does a great job at exploring the different niche communities that dominated MCYT since it first took off. Some of such communities include the basic Let’s Players, the team-based Let’s Play channels like How2Minecraft, the roleplay story-centric ones like Aphmau and Samgladiator, the tutorial, building and technical side like Mumbo and Grian, the PVP-centric Bedwars or Hypixel channels, the Machinima community, the comedy side like ExplosiveTNT, the parody music videos, and so many more. All of the mentioned communities have dominated Minecraft at one point or another, many of them still having a rippling effect and/or a loyal community today. All of these communities have certain aspects that define them, some of which parallel the current overtaking content in the present.

How can we compare MyStreet to the Dream SMP?

Taking Aphmau as an example, her MyStreet series had a TREMENDOUS success a few years ago, racking in millions of views and bringing in a lot of money that eventually allowed her to hire voice actors and increase the production of mentioned episodes. The roleplay series was so successful it ran for six seasons!

Now, let’s compare that to the Dream SMP. It seems like a big comparison to be making considering they appear so different at first glance. For once, Aphmau is just one channel whose audience caters toward girls and younger people who enjoy romance. The series is set-up in an episodic-format that resembles more of a TV series than actual Minecraft videos.

Meanwhile, the Dream SMP is a collection of content creators with a mix of improvised storylines and the occasional regular video that resembles more of a Let’s Play series than a RP series.

You could say the only true comparisons to draw out of these two are the popularity they had/have and the profit they brought to their respective creators. 

However, there’s two other key similarities that you’ll find not only within these two specific examples, but many other channels and communities as well. Story and characters.

MyStreet’s story aspect is fairly obvious seeing as it’s a episodic series that focuses on a fictional story. The Dream SMP’s story aspect isn’t as clear, but it’s evident there is a story playing out in the foreground and background, whether intentional or unintentional, or improvised or not.

Character is where some of you might start to question me. It’s obvious MyStreet has characters. I mean, it is a fictional story, after all. But the Dream SMP? Light, they’re obviously people!

Well, my answer to that is yes and no--sort of. The Dream SMP’s story heavily relies on roleplay, bits as you might call them. Events that aren’t necessarily planned out as a fictional plot like the typical MyStreet episode is, but they aren’t exactly real. Schlatt is obviously not a villain in real life, he just likes to impersonate as one for the narrative. Wilbur isn’t crazy, but it’s a way to spice up the heroic story surrounding Tommy and him.

It’s video-game improv. Except the actors behind the content just so happen to be real people playing off the personalities and “brands” they have obtained. 

Brands. It all boils down to this. In the entertainment business, without a clear vision of your project and a clear way to brand what your consumer intakes, your project will likely not find a lot of success.

There’s a reason why Tommy plays off his loudness, using an overexaggerated laugh that although may not be completely fake, it is likely not the laugh he uses everyday. Or why BadBoyHalo is this supposed innocent muffin who doesn’t understand the crafting table meme and other references that are fairly easy to google and find the meaning of. Or why Sapnap is this chaotic being who loves starting pet wars and we love to paint as an arsonist in the Dream SMP. While all of these personality traits may be a part of their true selves, they’re played up for the camera--for the story. They act as the personas that define their characters in the narrative.

They have a clear brand and vision that appeals to the audience and makes them tune in on the daily to see how they all come together. It’s like roleplaying a more extreme version of yourself, one that brings home the money.

Story and characters run across every entertainment outlet. They define their brand. Aphmau has her characters and series. Hermitcraft has a set of memorable personalities and episodic videos that formulate its own story that is less like a narrative and more of a history of the server. ExplodingTNT has his recurring cast and comedic sketches. Most of these niche communities have a form of story and character defining them. It’s how they achieve a clear sense of branding and cater to a specific audience.

Queer Theory in MCYT

Having said all that, why does the MCYT of today draw in so many queer viewers?

Let’s think about this. In my last post, I ended by mentioning DTeam Tumblr is a sort of safe haven for INFP and INxx types who might be placed in the “other” category by society. INFPs, specially, are predisposed for escapism--one common form of it being fiction and entertainment. Not to mention, INFPs are feeling types who, as introverts, seek a personable connection. It’s why it’s so easy for them to obsess over book characters or fall in love with content creators.

Now, let’s imagine a whole community of LGBTQ+ INFP and INxx types. Actually, scratch that, we don’t even have to imagine it.

It’s what our community looks like today.

And why are so many so drawn to the DTeam and Dream SMP of all things? It’s a personable storyline that essentially forms a direct tie to the viewer. Unlike pre-recorded fictional TV series you tune into on your device, the Dream SMP is a whole load of chaos that blurs the lines between reality and fiction where fans can directly connect to creators and get to know them as people through a storyline that features sub-textual queer themes and non-conforming behaviors.

The MCYT content creator community of today is more non-conforming than ever before, and knowing this whole fact, knowing that many of them might place themselves in the “other” category or at the very least aren’t afraid to break the norms and be seen in that light, is a comfort in itself for LGBTQ+ INFP types. Once again, it’s a safe space that helps you escape from the troubles of real life, one you relate to.

Okay. So although this does answer why the fans look like they do, what about the creators themselves? Are we really supposed to believe this all came through naturally? That a bunch of straight guys suddenly decided wearing dresses was something they wanted to do?

I don’t mean to sound cynical here, and I’m in no way trying to insinuate creators have solely some sort of corrupt ulterior motive. Things are never as simple as they look. However, the truth is, a part of it lies on the attention it’s gotten.

I’ve talked a lot about DreamNotFound and the way Dream uses it as a marketing ploy. I stand by my point. However, he’s not the only one who does this in the MCYT community. Why did Finn suddenly go from wearing a dress to cross-dressing as a girl for a whole week? Why are so many creators suddenly deciding wearing dresses is fun? Why does every freaking straight MCYT actively want to flirt with George nowadays?

Let’s just let Techno’s favorite word answer this for us: clout.

It gets attention from one of the largest historically underserved minority community in the entertainment business. We might not be able to see gay flirting in every Netflix TV show or guys not minding dresses and getting fake marriages, but you are certainly going to get at least one of those in every Dream SMP stream and video you tune into. It gets attention. It brings home the money. And do I blame them? Not really.

Interestingly enough, there’s a lot of analytical posts on the MCYT Tumblr community that discuss the dangers of these tactics and why gay jokes and the way queer subtext is treated by MCYT creators is harmful. Despite this, it still attracts such a huge community of queers. So why exactly would queer people actively watch something that’s offensive or harmful to us?

I have a lot more to say about this topic and the morality behind Dream’s tactics, but I’m out of breath for today, so I’ll talk about it in my next post. What better way to start the conversation about the DNF and Karlnap questions of the survey than a good ol’ discussion on the morality of queerbaiting and the likes?

If you got this far, I’d appreciate it if you liked and reblogged this post if you enjoyed it and/or learned something new! Also, important news, I would really like to perform a similar study on the DTeam Twitter Community to measure the differences in demographics across platforms. I would REALLY appreciate it if you guys could go like, retweet and share the link I posted on my Twitter about it (tweet will be linked in the reblog below) so it reaches more of the DTeam Twitter community!

However, if you filled out the survey yourself here or you associate more with DTeam Tumblr than DTeam Twitter please DO NOT fill out the survey again! I’m trying to make sure it reaches the audience that mains on Twitter, but I need a little help with that since I don’t have as big of an influence on Twitter than on here for obvious reasons.

Anyhow, thank you so much for all your support! I really appreciate y’all and make sure to hit the follow if you want to lookout for the next demographics post! <3

(Pssst, I’m releasing a MCYT DNF superpower AU longfic next month... You should totally go check out the post on that if you’re interested in it...)

[gaylonelydyke]

if it’s not too late, 12 for episodes and ships, and 17!

its never too late! thankyou for the ask 🥰 oo damn this is gonna be a hefty one, just to prepare you this is gonna be long 😅😅😅

spoiler alert for my friends who are finishing up season 2 rn, be careful if you look at my top five episodes, pay attention the the episode numbers, i will put [ ] in bold at the beginning and end of spoilers!

12. Top 5 ships

5. faith x myself because have you seen faith? shes such a babe! spare consensual kiss maam?

4. willow x oz, i dont know if this is an unpopular or not but i feel like if the 90s had been more accepting of term then willow wouldve been bisexual, but like even now tv shows will rarely let characters say that word :( but anyway i love them! theyre both quirky and kinda awkward but its such a sweet relationship and you really see how they go from awkward crushes to an actual deep relationship, oz is one of my favourite characters too what a dude!

3. giles x jenny, mlmxwlw solidarity in this bisexual couple! there is no an ounce of straight between them and i love it, i love their dynamic, i love that giles *respects women* (im staring daggers at xander rn), also the original girlboss x malewife couple askdjaksjhd

2. drusilla x spike, these two!!!!!! once again a bisexual couple with zero straight between them, the vibes are off the charts. sexy vampires, goth x punk love, i just love them man, and their relationship is so interesting to delve into. like theyre vampires, theyre soulless and yet they have a capacity for love, they care deeply for eachother, theyre so tender towards eachother in season 2 in the way they take turns to care for one another, also drusilla picking spike up with one hand made me gay and thats on that

1. willow x tara!!!!! lesbians man lesbians! they have a beautiful relationship, until a certain point wink wink, they feel like a perfect match, willows become more outgoing due to buffy and xander snd having a proper group of friends, so its cool to see her as the more outgoing independant one in the relationship, and tara is such a honey 🥺 the biggest sweetheart in the world what a babe!!!! also like how groundbreaking was their relationship? as a queer couple, they had p much the dame amount of screentime as a aueer relationship today! and willow says the word lesbian so many times and is always making gay jokes which is something shows today are too scared to do, its honestly refreshing which is weird for a show in the 90/00s

12. Top 5 episodes

this is so hard because its such a damn good show so i had to rlly be picky about this but here we go

5. 6x22 ‘grave’- i watched buffy for the first time last year at work coz i worked with one other person just packing shit, and THIS was the episode that made us cry infront of eachother. the scene with willow and xander at the end is one of my all time favourite scenes and like legit we were watching and we starting going like ha.. this is so sad Q_Q and we looked at eachother and we were both crying akdjdjsjdhs its SO GOOD, like this is a friendship ive been so invested in and [seeing xander be able to pull her back from that dark place was so heart wrenching and amazing god its so good]

4. 3x12 ‘helpless’ - im finishing up s2 in my rewatch rn so i havent rewatched this one to double check but i remember loving it man. buffys father daughter relationship with giles is my favourite of the whole show they make my heart ache, so i love that this is an episode that really shows you how dedicated giles is to her, [its the breaking point where he finally disregards the fact that hes a watcher and acts as her father once and for all, its a turning point for their relationship where he is finally embracing the fact that shes like a daughter to him and i just love to see it Q_Q get you a dad who will leave his lifes calling for you]

3. 4x22 ‘restless’ - season 4 is interesting coz it has really good episodes and them some gd awful ones 😂😂 but this one just blew me away, i love a good character study episode and this is THE SHIT! its so weird and creepy but in the most perfect way, its not on the nose its so subtle, it feels like an uncanny valley version of buffy almost, i like that they finished the season first and then took this episode to do something out of the box and different i feel like it lets them fully explore this idea without the pressure of needing plot included. [also the cheese man is iconic. dont however like xander being all nasty with willow and tara but whats new there man]

2. 1x12 ‘The Prophecy Girl’ - for my first watch of buffy i wasnt that into the first season, like i enjoyed it but i didnt think it was anything super special? but this episode changed EVERYTHING for me. up until now buffy had been fun, witty, charming, but not anything new atleast for me, maybe in the 90s it was but right now its your average teen supernatural show. but this episode!!!! the emotion! buffy facing her death, her speech about how shes just 16 and shes scared and she doesnt want to die, that is what i wanna see!! its heartbreaking and it made me cry, and then it gives us the wonderful moment of giles trying to take her place and buffy realising that she has to be the one to do it, man its so good! basically anything with buffy and giles being a duo is gonna make it an automatic yes from me and this is indeed the case for this episode, i just love that the show remembers that shes a child! shes not brave all the time, shes not strong all the time, shes just doing her best and sometimes its overwhelming, 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼 i bow to this episode

1. 2x17 ‘passion’ - i know i just sang praises about prophecy girl but THIS EPISODE IS THE SHIT, the best episode full stop. i wont accept any argument. angel is probably my favourite big bad, its so funny to see plain bread, mopey brooding angel become this charismatic, funny, poetic, blood thirsty angelus, hes everything i want in a villain and in this episode he delivers! rip jenny tho love her. i think the tension built around angel is so good, because of his drawings and notes left around, every scene youre worrying like is he here now? are they safe or what? its so tense! and also it is me and im a slag for buffy x giles father daughter moments and this episode fucking delivers! giles discovering jennys dead body is probably one of the best scenes on the show, the dramatic irony is heAVY, we know jenny is dead, we know that these flowers arent from her, but giles is so so happy, and i want to see him happy but you just know somehing horrific is about to happen and damn does it. its a masterpiece! i love jenny and giles so much it is so sad, but also the fact that it gave us that scene makes me almmmoost ok with it? i also love the moment where giles breaks down in buffys arms, hes been there for her and now shes returning the favour and hes accepting it i just 😭😭😭 also on a different note, angels narration of this episode is amazing! it gives us great insight to who he is as “evil angel” and like even though hes awful i was also kind of rooting for him coz hes just such a great villain

sorry this is so long lmao, last question!

17. Which characer do you wish had less of a focus on them in the show?

i dont wanna get yelled at butttttt i dont like the amount of focus on dawn. i think it makes sense for the her first season considering the story arc but that season really does double down its focus onto dawn and buffy and it barely leaves room for anyone else to have a storyline, it keeps the episodes super depressing too its like a constant level of just sadness the whole time because we’re so stuck in THEIR arc, theres no room to balance it out and have a breather, some people might like that its more serious but i really really didnt like, i love episodes like prophecy girl where it is campy and brings the more emotional notes in when the time comes, but dawns whole arc is just constantly depressing the whole time i just hate it, and also just shes not a character i felt i could connect to because of how suddenly shes introduced, so its weird to have her SO focused on in the first half of that season coz we dont know her yet so i feel like the emotional moments dont land the way that they should? basically they shouldve eased us into dawn or introduced her differently and maybe i would like her enough to want the focus on her but i really just dont

adksjakjshd apologies for the essay this is, thanks for the ask!

[sunmoonandeddie]

a vision in white

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3,441

summary: Fucking Chad and fake champagne.

prompt: “And our love story? I know it may not feel like it right now, baby, but I promise you, it’s just getting started.” (This is Us)

warnings: swearing, angst with a fluffy ending

a/n: This is my first successful attempt to getting back into writing long form.  It’s also my entry for @softhairbarnes‘s challenge that was due, like September 18th.  I’m so sorry it took so long, and the prompt is bolded in the fic!

Bucky Barnes hated weddings.

Actually, no.  That’s not quite accurate because he loved Sam and Natasha’s wedding.  When Sam had asked him to be a groomsman, he’d actually cried.  In fact, he cried at least four times that day: watching Tony walk Natasha down the aisle, during the vows and the first dance, and then when he’d watched his girl catch the bouquet.

His girl.

No.

He needed to stop that.  You’re not his girl anymore.

It was that stupid bouquet toss that had caused him to panic.  It had sent him into a downward spiral as his anxiety reared its ugly head, telling him that he’d never have this with you.

It didn’t matter what the stupid tradition said.

Steve was standing near the front with Tony and Sam, mingling with your parents and having a grand old time.  He must’ve said something at least a little funny with the way that your mom had her head thrown back in a laugh.

That used to be him.  He used to be the one chatting with your family at events, his arm around your waist.  Your dad always called him ‘son’ and your mom fretted over whether he was eating enough while your older siblings gave him hell for keeping you away from them in New York City for too long.  He’d never thought he’d have a family in the twenty-first century, but yours had welcomed him with open arms.  Your brothers had become his brothers, your sister became his sister.

And then he’d fucked it all up.

And because of his fuck up, he was sitting in the back pew of a church, watching some asshole named Chad chat with one of his groomsmen while waiting for the ceremony to start.

The worst part was that it was all wrong.  This wasn’t the wedding you wanted.  He knew that for a fact.

First off, the church.  You never wanted a church wedding in the middle of August, damn it.  Everyone was sticky with sweat, even with the air conditioning on full blast, and more than a little miserable.

And there wasn’t…  There wasn’t enough flowers.  The only flowers present were two bunches of white tulips on either side of the altar.

Fucking tulips.  In white.  It was like you’d had zero hand in planning your own wedding.

Which, from the look of things, you probably didn’t.

There just wasn’t enough color.  It was all pristine white, as though trying to create some image of purity that he knew you didn’t have.  You weren’t some kind of innocent virgin like the whole church thing suggested.

The trip you two had taken to the Dominican Republic a few years ago had made sure of that.

You’d told him about the wedding you dreamed about in the middle of the night, between sleepy kisses and wandering hands.  The sheets had been kicked off at some point.  You’d tangled your legs with his, soft fingers brushing his hair back away from his face as you murmured into the crook of his neck, “I want a small wedding outside.  Just you and me and our family.”

“Yeah, baby?” He’d chuckled, drawing you even closer, if it were possible.  “Just us and our family?”

“Mmhm.  Don’t need anyone else.”

He’d hummed his agreement as he rolled the two of you over, leaning over you.  His forehead pressed against yours, your legs wrapped around his waist.  “What else?  Hm?”

“What do you mean, ‘What else?’” You had asked, his t-shirt riding up your torso.  You’d stolen it at some point, almost permanently becoming one of your so-called ‘sleep shirts.’

“Tell me about our wedding.”

Your bright eyes crinkled as you giggled, your fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.  “Our wedding, huh?”

His fingers attacked your sides in retaliation, sending you into a fit of laughter.

“Okay!  Okay!”  You had allowed him to lie on your chest, his head resting right above your racing heart.  His weight was a welcome one, grounding you and keeping you in the present.  Just as Bucky had his demons, you had yours, too.  Your voice was soft and sweet, barely audible, as you continued, “It’ll be outside… in June…  And there’ll be flowers.  We’ll have so many flowers that no one will know what our color scheme is supposed to be.”

A laugh from your fiancé, your soon-to-be husband, pulled him out of his memories.  God, the smug bastard.

Part of him wondered if he even knew about your past relationship.  Granted, he had to.  You were together for so long, it would be strange to not at least mention him to your new lover.  Your fiancé.

Right?

Without a second thought, he stood up from the cold, hard pew and went through the double doors that people were still filing in from.  He didn’t care that he received more than a few dirty looks after bumping shoulders with a few people.  He didn’t recognize more than half of them.  Some of them he can vaguely remember from one of your family reunions.

He had so many questions that he needed to ask you.  He needed answers.

His invitation was crumpled in his hand as he searched the church, looking for any hint that might lead him to where the bridal party was getting ready.  He knew that he’d find you wherever that was.  Wanda and Natasha, too.

“Bucky?”

The familiar voice stopped him in his tracks, and he turned to see your older sister standing standing behind him.  Josephine, or Jo, as she preferred, was your only sister, the second born of five.  He had no doubt in his mind that she’d bawled when you’d asked her to be your maid-of-honor.

“Hi,” he said with a bit of a wince.  He knew how he looked right now.  Crazed.  Desperate.

She had a glass of what appeared to be water in her hand, but he could smell the vodka from where he stood.

Some liquid courage for the bride?

“She doesn’t like vodka,” he said, his voice barely audible.

Jo rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and crinkling the silky gray material of her bridesmaid’s dress.  “Yeah, well, she used to not like guys named Chad either, but here we are.”

He wasn’t quite sure what to say or how to respond at all, and just stood there with his mouth hanging open like a codfish.

“Come on,” she said, nodding further down the hall.  The first few feet were completely silent, their footsteps muffled by the old carpet covering the floor.  There was no way this church had been renovated since the seventies.

“She misses you, you know.”  She kept her eyes forward, refusing to look at him as she admitted things she’d sworn secrecy to.  “She won’t admit it to anyone but me, but she does.  We all do.”

His blue eyes drifted down to the cardstock in his hand.  It was white, just like the rest of your wedding, with you and your fiancé’s names embossed on it.  It was worn from the amount of times he’d folded and unfolded it in his anxious state.  “I didn’t expect to get an invitation.”

“She didn’t send it.  I did.”

It was said so matter-of-fact that he didn’t even register her words at first.  But the second he did, he tripped and almost fell flat on his face.  “You what?!”

“Oh, come on, Bucky,” she said, stopping in front of him.  “This…  This whole thing isn’t right.  I know you feel it, too.”  She motioned back down the way they came.  “This isn’t her.  She’s settling for someone that isn’t right for her because she thinks you don’t want her.  And I…”  Her eyes, the same brilliant shade as yours, drifted to the ground.  “I knew that if you came, it would mean that you still love her.”

“I—”  He ran his hand over his face.  “Of course I do.  But she deserves more than me.”

If Jo’s eyes could’ve rolled to the back to her head, then they would’ve.  “You’re both absolute idiots.”  She grabbed his hand and set the glass of vodka in his hand before pushing him towards a closed door.  “This is your chance to fix it.”

He looked at her once more before turning back to the door, knocking once.

“Come in.”

God, just hearing your voice in person for the first time in three years sent waves of affection through him.

The first thing he saw when he opened the door was your back.  You were sitting at the vanity in the room, toying with one of the pins your hair.

“Jo, can you help me?  This just… isn’t right.”

But Bucky was frozen by the door.  His mouth was suddenly dry and he had to fight the urge to down the entire glass of vodka in his hand.

“Jo, really—”  You turned in your chair, freezing when you saw him standing there instead of your sister.  “Jamie?”

You looked so… so shocked.  Hesitant.  Maybe even a little scared?

“Uh…  Hey, sweetheart,” he said, swallowing down the lump in his throat.  “It’s, uh…  It’s been a while.”  When you just stared at him, he held out the glass.  “Jo gave me this to, uh, to give to you.”

But you didn’t take it.  Your fingers were white from how hard you were gripping the back of the chair.  “What are you doing here?”

His heart was beating so hard he was sure his ribs were going to break like glass.  “You…  You look beautiful.”

And he wasn’t lying.  You were truly a vision in white.  The veil covering your hair was trimmed in delicate lace, framing your features in a way that made you appear almost angelic.

Your fingernails were digging into the palms of your hands as you finally stood up.  “James, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Jo invited me.”

You cursed under your breath, your eyes drifting up towards the ceiling.  “Fucking Jo.”

He took a step forward, a little scared of how you’d react.  His hands were trembling.  “I…  I…”  He cleared his throat as he desperately tried to gather his thoughts.  Rolling his shoulders back, he willed himself to have some fucking courage, damn it.  After what must’ve been an eternity, he finally allowed himself to meet your gaze.  “Listen, I could say a lot of shit right now about how sorry I am, and it’d be true.  Because I am sorry.  I was stupid and dumb and, and a lot of other words that I can’t think of right now because fuck, you’re right here and I…  I miss you.  I miss you more than anything in the world, and if I could take it back, I would.”  When you didn’t retreat, he took a few more steps towards you.  “I love you.  I love you so god damn much, and I never should’ve pushed you away.”  The vodka was rippling, his hand was shaking so much.  “You’re the love of my life, and I’d be willing to bet anything—in fact, I’d bet Steve’s life—that I’m the love of yours.”

“James—”

“Tell me that you love him,” he said, now standing just mere inches from you.  He set the glass on the vanity without breaking eye contact.  You could feel his breath gently fanning across your face.  “Tell me you love him and I’ll leave.  I won’t ever bother you again.  But, sweetheart, there’s no way he can ever love you how much I love you.”  His hand, calloused and rough, tenderly cupped your cheek.  “I don’t have any right to you, I know.  But I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t even try to make things right.  And our love story?  I know it may not feel like it right now, baby, but I promise you, it’s just getting started.”

Even though your eyes were watering, you didn’t step away from him.  Your cheeks had just gotten hotter and hotter the closer he’d gotten to you.  “What are you asking me, James?”

“Come with me,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours.  His voice sounded pained, his metal hand grasping yours.  “We can get out of here, go home.  Please.”

You took in a shaky breath, a million thoughts running through your mind.

“Say you’ll run away with me, sweetheart.”

“I…  I can’t.”

Bucky jerked away from you, feeling like a pot of boiling water had been tossed onto him.  “What do you mean?”

Nose scrunching as you sniffled, you reached out to him.  “Jamie, please…”

He backed towards the door, shaking his head.  “Don’t ‘Jamie’ me.”

Wiping at your eyes, you rushed to explain.  “I can’t just… just leave him at the altar, Jamie!  I can’t hurt him like that!”

“Why not?!”

You looked at him like he’d grown a second head.  “What the hell do you mean, ‘Why not?’  I’m engaged to him.  I promised to spend the rest of my life with him, and—”

“You don’t love him!”

The words died in your throat.  Your chest was heaving against the confines of your dress.  “I’m engaged to him.”

“That doesn’t mean shit,” he said bitingly.  His arms waved around dramatically as he spoke.  “You’re sitting here in a dress, about to give the rest of your life to an asshole—Which, by the way, really?  Chad?  You decided to marry an asshole named Chad of all things?—because you can’t hurt his feelings?”  He really wished he’d downed some of that vodka right about now, even though it wouldn’t really do much for him.  “Are you really going to throw your life away like that?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to keep yourself from crying.  You were supposed to walk down the aisle in less than thirty minutes, and your makeup artist would kill you if you’d ruined her hard work.  “I…  I love him.”

Bucky stared at you for a long moment, hoping that you would realize what a mistake you were making.  But when it didn’t come, he let out a huff of air.  “You keep telling yourself that.”  He took one last look at you as he opened up the door, ready to leave.  “Have a happy life, sweetheart.  I’ll…  I’ll see you around.”

He allowed the door to shut behind him before the waterworks started, forcing himself to not go back in when he heard you crying.

Stupid super soldier hearing.

“Bucky?”

He looked up to see Jo standing there, the hopeful look in her eyes quickly diminishing.  “She, um…  She says she loves him.”

He knew that she could hear you crying even without a super soldier serum coursing through her veins.  Without even giving him a second look, she slipped into the room and out of his sight.  Your sobs seemed to get even louder when she entered.

Not able to withstand the torture that was being so close to you without being able to call you his, Bucky ran.

He left the church, grabbing a bottle of champagne that was sitting on the catering truck outside.

It would seem that your reception was to be in the basement of the church, of all places.

He didn’t even bother to tell anyone he was leaving.  After all, he’d ridden with the team to the church, and he didn’t want to have to beg one to drive him back to the Tower and miss the ceremony.  They’d actually been invited.

You wanted them there.  But not him.  Not after how badly he’d fucked up.

It wasn’t like any of them actually expected him to be able to make it through the vows, or even into the sanctuary.

He aggressively wiped at his eyes as he walked down the crowded streets of New York City.  “Don’t you have places to be?” He wondered aloud as yet another person bumped into him.

His feet knew where to take him before his mind did.

The 50 Street Station on Broadway.

The night you first met, you’d just finished a shift at Ellen’s Stardust Diner.  Your roller skates were sitting by your feet as you waited for the subway.  Bucky had just been wandering around the city and had somehow ended up across Manhattan.

He’d instantly been smitten with the girl working her way through university, and it had been history from there.

He sat on one of the benches, uncorking the bottle with little difficulty.

If anyone was curious as to why an Avenger was drinking in a subway station at noon on a Saturday, no one asked.

And in his nice suit, too.

“Oh, buddy, how the hell did you end up here?” He asked himself before taking a long swig from the bottle.  Some of the bubbling liquid dribbled down his chin and he wiped it on his jacket sleeve that definitely cost more than his childhood home back in the twenties.

He would kill for some of Thor’s Asgardian mead at the moment.

But he’d just have to settle for some second rate champagne that, honestly, probably wasn’t even real champagne.

“Probably made in America,” he muttered to himself as he inspected the bottle.

Sure enough, right there on the back under all the nutritional information, it said Made in California.

“Can’t even get real champagne for her,” he said to no one in particular.  No one in the station was paying him any mind, choosing to let him wallow in misery on his own.

Seven trains had passed by before he heard it.

“James?!  Jamie?!”

He imagined that right?  The wind from the trains was playing tricks on him.  Making him hear your voice.

An exquisite form of torture, really.

“Jamie!”

But it sounded so real.

Curiously, he lifted his head, the almost empty bottle dangling from his fingers.

And there you were.

Still a vision in white in your wedding dress.  Your veil was half torn off, your hair falling.  The hem of your skirts was dirty from the muck that covered the streets of New York City.  You held a suitcase in your hand, rolling your shoulder back to accommodate the weight and pressure of carrying it through the city.

“What are you doing here?” He asked as he got to his feet, the champagne forgotten.  He wiped at his eyes, desperately trying to appear more put together than he felt.  “You…  You are here right?  I’m not hallucinating or anything?”

“No, you’re not hallucinating,” you said as you set the suitcase down with a huff.

He blinked slowly at you, almost afraid that you’d disappear if he closed his eyes.  “I mean, you never know with fake champagne.”

“Shut up.”

He watched as you sat down on the bench he’d been occupying for a little over an hour and a half, crossing your arms over your chest.  “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean, what am I doing here?”

“You’re getting married to Chad.”

With an eye roll that reminded him a lot of Jo, you kept your eyes on the approaching subway.  “Clearly not.”

He snuck a peek at your left hand, heart pounding when he realized that you didn’t even have your engagement ring on.  “Oh.”

You two sat in silence for a few minutes, not speaking.  It was so peculiar to be in the exact spot that you two had met seven years before.  So much had changed but at the same time, so much was the same.

He was still crazy about you, for one, and it would appear that you felt the same.

“I hate that you’re right all the fucking time.”

His heart skipped a beat and he finally turned to look at you.  “What was that?”

And despite how much you fought it, a small smile was tugging at your lips.  “Shut up.  You know what I said.”

“I’m not right all the time,” he said slowly, inching his pinky closer and closer to yours.  “I wasn’t right to leave you.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“I should’ve just told you that my anxiety was getting the better of me like you told me to.”

“Yes, you should’ve.”

He inhaled sharply as his finger finally brushed yours, and you allowed his fingers to intertwine with yours.

“Better late than never, I suppose,” you whispered, your eyes meeting his.

The silence between you was loaded with tension.  And the both of you knew that you had a lot of things to discuss, things to figure out if you were going to work in the long run.

But you were here and he loved you and you loved him.

And that was enough.

[agentfreckles]

Hey, hello! How are you? I wanted to tell you that I like how you write and I really liked the story you wrote about Farah and the gender neutral detective! do you remember when F asked if they could have the goodbye kiss? Can you write one where Felix asks again about the kiss at the M!Detective, please? (I need some fluffiness sigh)

Thank you both so much for the kind words and these requests! This one was a little more challenging than I had hoped, but I really like how it turned out in the end so hopefully it was worth the wait. Enjoy!

Pucker Up 

Rating: T for smooching and Mason’s potty mouth 

Word Count: 1,724

Pairing: Felix x Male!Detective (Lucas Kingston)

Summary: Lucas gets called back to the station and forgets to give Felix a kiss goodbye before he leaves. Felix isn’t having it.

Notes: F is the biggest drama queen and you will not convince me otherwise. Based on Sera’s goodbye kiss ask that we all went feral for. I want to extend a massive thank you to @lilyoffandoms for letting me borrow their hunky detective Lucas for this. He really helped this story come alive and I can’t thank you enough!

Felix hates goodbyes. Like really, really hates them. 

They’re sitting on the couch in the warehouse living room in their usual position, with Lucas’ arm slung around Felix’s shoulders while his hand rests firmly on the detective’s thigh. Conversation flows easily between the two of them and the rest of Unit Bravo — maybe even a little too easily for some of the team’s more senior members given some of the subject matter that’s managed to crop up here and there — but, hey, any gab session where he and Mason have managed to make Nat sigh in exasperation and pinch the bridge of her nose multiple times is pretty damn good in Felix’s book. Hell, even Ava, perpetual hard-ass that she is, managed to get in a joke or two. It’s been a great day, the best day. And it’s times like these where Felix takes a look around the room at his family and the love of his life and just feels...happy. Really, truly happy. And he knows in this moment that there’s nowhere else in the world he’d rather be than right here. 

But then that all too familiar buzzing noise pierces the blissful atmosphere in the room and Lucas removes his arm from Felix’s shoulders, taking the warmth with him as he reaches into his pocket to fish out his phone and Felix’s heart sinks because he knows what’s coming. 

Lucas heaves a heavy sigh, frowning at his phone’s screen. “It’s Verda. I’ve got to get back. Apparently there’s a bit of a dispute going on at the station involving a couple of disgruntled fishermen and Douglas is the only one around to handle the situation. You can image how well that’s going.” 

Felix visibly deflates. “You’re leaving? But you just got here.” 

Mason scoffs from his spot perched against a side table in his preferred dark corner of the room, lit cigarette dangling from his lips. “He’s been here since this morning.” 

“Well, it feels like he just got here. Not that anyone asked you anyway,” Felix retorts, tossing Mason an unamused glare before fixing his focus back on the detective. “Are you sure you have to go?” 

“Duty calls, I’m afraid,” Lucas says with a soft smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he stands and begins collecting his belongings from the nearby coffee table. 

Felix frowns at the sudden distance between them, eventually giving a resigned nod. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

It sucks, but honestly he gets it. Lucas is a busy guy; he can’t just stay and laze around with Felix forever. But, man, does he wish he could just wrap Lucas in his arms and never let go instead of having to sit idly by as he gets called away once again to go off and be this badass crime solver extraordinaire. God, he’s amazing. And handsome and funny and smart and — 

He misses him so much already and the guy hasn’t even left yet. 

Felix shakes himself out of his lovesick haze before he makes things even worse for himself, instead rising up to his feet and positioning himself in silent preparation for the one event that makes these goodbyes even remotely bearable. 

Goodbye kisses may be born out of less than ideal circumstances, but they sure are enjoyable. Especially the way he and Lucas do them. They’re soft and tender yet charged with heat and every one gives Felix just enough to get by in Lucas’ absence while also leaving him eagerly waiting for their next meeting so they can come together all over again. 

“Let me get your coat,” Nat offers, reaching for the trench coat she’d folded over the back of a nearby arm chair and stepping behind Lucas as she helps him slip it on. He hums absentmindedly in thanks, his focus zeroed in on his phone and a deep frown settles onto his face as he reads through his texts — Verda’s updates on the dispute at the station, no doubt — but Felix’s focus is only on the excitement bubbling in his chest as the kiss draws near.

Any moment now Lucas will put his phone away and those blue eyes will lock on him. They’ll sparkle with heat as he strides over to Felix with slow and steady purpose and a small smirk will rest on his lips because he knows all too well the effect he has over him. Then he’ll take him in his arms and- 

And…he’s heading for the door.

Wait, seriously? 

“Babe!” Felix calls out automatically, mouth falling open in disbelief as the fantasy he was losing himself in shatters.  

“Hm?” Lucas responds in surprise, spinning on the spot to face him. The phone in his hand chimes with another incoming text. His eyes fall back to the screen and he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Sorry, Felix. I need to get back before Douglas gets himself killed. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Don’t you think you’re forgetting something?” Felix presses, halting the detective’s movements once more. 

Lucas’ brow furrows in confusion and he begins patting himself down and checking his pockets in earnest. “Uh, no…? I don’t believe so.”  

Felix can hardly believe what he’s hearing. His head swivels around to the other members of Unit Bravo looking for someone to back him up on the cruel twist of fate life has handed him, but he’s met with three faces displaying the same sheer confusion as his boyfriend currently is. “Is anyone else seeing this right now? I can’t be the only one who noticed, right?”

“None of us have any fucking idea what you’re talking about, Felix,” Mason snarks, followed closely by a disapproving click of the tongue from Nat. 

“Felix, the detective clearly has important matters to attend to,” Ava scolds and wow, okay, maybe Felix really is alone in this after all. “I suggest you save your concerns for-“

“You’re really just going to leave without a goodbye kiss? Babe!“ 

Felix swears he feels the ground shake under the combined forces of Ava and Mason’s groans. He ignores them, striding across the room with his head held high and determination set on his features as he prepares to confront his boyfriend for this most heinous of slights. 

He comes to a stop in front of where Lucas stands by the door. Channeling his inner Ava, Felix folds his arms and tries his best to peer down his nose in disappointment at Lucas despite their rather large height difference. “Well, detective? What do you have to say for yourself?” 

Lucas sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, his gaze sidelong and woefully apologetic. “It appears I was forgetting something after all.” His blue eyes shift back to catch his and Felix feels his breath hitch at the intensity in his gaze. “Please allow me to make it up to you before I go.” 

Oh, well, now there’s a thought. 

“I don’t know…” Felix trails off in faux consideration, determined to milk the moment for all its worth despite the somersaults his insides are currently doing at the implications of the request. It’s a little much, he knows —and Lucas really needs to get over to the station like now — but then again, Felix never has been one to waste an opportunity to charm his way into a larger payout. And something tells him this reward is going to be big if he plays his cards right. “That was a pretty big offense, babe. You’re going to have to come up with something pretty special for me to forgive you.”

“Special, huh?” Lucas grins, all too ready to accept the challenge Felix has laid out before him. He shortens what little distance remains between them, one hand snaking its way around Felix’s waist while the other gently comes to rest on his cheek. Felix swallows heavily under the heat of his stare. “I think I can manage that.”

Lucas closes the distance between them and Felix gasps in surprised delight as he feels himself being lowered horizontally into a dip, suddenly feeling very much like one of those couples from those black and white romance films they’d sometimes show on movie night at the Facility. He used to call such dramatic romantic displays cheesy and unrealistic, but this is…wow. It’s heady and delicious, a perfect blend of yearning and desire and love that’s just so right that his brain just kind of short circuits from the intensity of it. He hopes that Lucas will be able to resolve that problem at the station quickly because there is no way in hell Felix is going to be able to focus on anything else until he gets back. 

Distantly he feels himself being placed upright again as Lucas finally breaks the kiss and releases his hold on him. The detective’s breath is ragged as he straightens his tie and runs a hand through his red hair before fixing Felix with a smile. “So how did I do?”

“I…uhh…heh,” Felix stumbles, unable to form words thanks to the pile of mush his brain has been reduced to. He blinks back the dense fog just enough to reply with a breathless, “You’re forgiven.” 

“I’m glad to hear it.” A sharp ringing sound fills the air. Lucas swipes the screen on his phone and answers the call. “Yes, Verda. There was a small matter that needed attending to, but I’m on my way now.” And with a small nod of his head and one last dazzling smile, Lucas departs, the living room door closing behind him with a soft click. 

“That was quite the parting gift,” Mason remarks, giving a small nod in approval as Felix all but floats back to the couch.

“The best gift,” Felix corrects him as he collapses onto the cool leather. His eyes flutter closed, mind dancing with images of red hair and blue eyes and impossibly soft lips that leave him breathless and aching for more. 

Nat chuckles fondly nearby. “One that’ll make the wait much more bearable until Lucas’ return, I’m sure.”

The sentiment has a grin tugging at Felix’s lips. He’s not sure anything could ever make waiting to see the detective again not feel like an eternity, but straight-out-of-the-movies kisses are one hell of a good try. 

Maybe goodbyes aren’t so bad after all. 

[phykios]

people on ao3 were thirsty for this fic so... here you go, tumblr ❤ 

put on the red light M, sex work au, modern royalty au, no powers au  [read on ao3]

🌊🌊🌊

Sometimes, she really regrets being best friends with Piper.

Said best friend still gapes at her from across the table, jaw practically on the floor. “Never?”

Annabeth rolls her eyes. “Never.”

“Not even, like, at school?”

“When I would have had the time?” she asks. “I was attempting a five-year program in four years, and then… well, you know.” And she does know, all about the very exciting drama that went down in Annabeth’s senior year.

Piper is still flabbergasted. “Not even high school?”

Annabeth takes a sip of her drink. “I wasn’t exactly a hot commodity in high school.” She’d been passively pretty all her life, but she hadn’t exactly been what some might call Girlfriend material, capital G. She’d stuck to her fifteen year plan to the letter, eschewing most social contact, working herself into the ground to overcome ADHD by sheer force of will and get into Harvard, a plan which allowed approximately zero time for a boyfriend. Not that there were even boys that she had really liked at the time.

The only boy she had ever considered liking in that way, well. She had lost contact with him a while ago.

“I can’t believe this.”

“Believe it or not, Ripley, it’s true. I’ve never had sex. You happy?”

“I mean, if you don’t mind me asking, are you ace?” Piper asks. “Because that’s totally cool, of course.”

She shakes her head. “Definitely not ace.” She has a minor collection of personal massagers and insertable devices should she ever need to take care of an urge, and plenty of fantasies she can call on whenever the need arises--a system which has worked just fine for years.

“I just…” Piper stares, unconvincingly. “How?”

Shrugging, she takes another sip of coffee. “Just never got around to it, I guess.”

It’s not something she’s proud of, but by the same token, it’s not something that brings her shame, either. It is what it is; Annabeth, a notable workaholic, has never had sex with another person in her life. In some ways, it sucks, sure, but in other ways, it’s been a blessing in disguise. After all, no previous partners means that there’s no one to spread any dirt on the newly minted Princess Anja Elisabet of Sweden.

But Piper isn’t having it.

“Do you… want to have sex?” she asks. “Like, ever?”

As the daughter of one of the biggest movie stars in the world, she knows that Piper has had her fair share of high profile relationships, something that earned her a little bit of a nasty (and, quite frankly, racist) reputation among the paparazzi, which is ridiculous, since Piper is one of the most effortlessly gracious and classy people Annabeth knows. Piper does not go slinging herself and her partners around in the media like some of her contemporaries; instead, she likes to keep her personal details a bit closer to the chest, sharing them only with trusted confidants, like Annabeth, who knows full well how much Piper enjoys the act of sex. Sex for Piper isn’t dirty or taboo, it’s fun and it’s being close with other people, it’s liberating and exciting and intimate, and she extols its virtues whenever asked to give her opinion.

She makes sex sound really good, but never in a way that makes Annabeth feel ashamed for never having done it. Until now, of course. “Well… yeah,” says Annabeth. “I’d like to. I mean, I think it’d be kind of nice, you know, to do it at least once.”

“But then you’d have to start dating,” Piper surmises.

“Yeah,” says Annabeth, glumly.

Dating is a notorious problem for people in her line of work. Royalty, not architects, that is. Dating for architects is easy; just find someone who doesn’t mind the type A personalities and the obsession with work. Dating for royals is… significantly harder, and not really something she wants to engage with right now. She’s only been a royal for a few years, after all—she still feels like it’s a big cosmic joke, that someone is going to unearth some old documents or reveal a couple of forgeries that will bring the whole thing crashing down, and she doesn’t want to bring an outsider into all that drama, let alone deal with it herself.

Piper takes a sip of her drink, thoughtful, then lays out her next question carefully. “Have you ever considered a one-night stand?”

Annabeth stares. “You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not! People do it.”

“Yeah,” she scoffs, “people. Not me.”

“It’s really not hard,” Piper says, “I’ve done it plenty of times.”

“What, you want me to make a tinder?”

She laughs. “God, wouldn’t that be a riot. But no, I mean, there have to be other single royals or celebs around. Why not one of them?”

“Because they’re all insufferable social-climbing jackasses that make me want to rip my skull out of my face every time I’m forced to listen to them at a state dinner.”

“Okay, then.” Never one to be deterred, Piper pulls out her phone, then waits until Annabeth has taken a sip of her drink, presumably to keep her from immediately disagreeing, before dropping the bomb to end all bombs. “Let’s get you an escort.”

Annabeth snorts iced coffee directly out of her nose.

“Shit! Sorry!” Piper shoves a handful of napkins at her. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, do you need water?”

Wheezing, Annabeth shakes her head. “Give me a sec,” she coughs, fingers covering her mouth.

Thank God she’s got her trusty, anti-pap hat on. If anyone took a picture of her like this, her uncle would probably disown her.

“What the hell, Piper?” she rasps when she can finally breathe again.

“I’m so sorry, I should have timed that better.”

“No, I mean—”  she coughs again. “The other thing.”

She raises an eyebrow. “The escort?”

“Keep your voice down!” On instinct, she glances around the London cafe, looking for any stray microphones. Satisfied that no one is listening for the moment, she turns back to her insane best friend. “Yes, the… that thing.”

“It’s not that crazy,” says Piper, turning back to her phone. “We’ll find you a really nice one, someone super high class and discreet, draw up an NDA, and then you can cross it off your bucket list. Man or woman?”

“Man, but—" she sputters. “I—I can’t see a prostitute! Can you imagine the scandal if it got out?”

Forget the iced coffee thing. The princess of Sweden, caught with a hooker… Annabeth is nauseous just thinking about the media circus.

“Not a prostitute,” Piper corrects. “An escort.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“Same umbrella, but no.” She types away, faster than Annabeth can keep track of. “Pimping is illegal here, but escorts usually have managers.”

“Be that as it may,” because Piper seems to have forgotten the key part of this conversation, “I can’t have sex with an escort.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” The million and a half legitimate reasons not to go through with it all fly through her mind, getting lost somewhere on the way to her mouth. “Because!”

Piper just smiles at her. “I’ll get you a really nice one, promise. Think of it as a late birthday present.”

“It’s September.”

“Early Christmas, then.” And she grins, full of teeth. “Just trust me, okay? Let me take care of it.”

Famous last words, she thinks, popping a bit of scone in her mouth.

***

7PM, the Dorchester Hotel. Dinner first, then… whatever, later.

Annabeth can’t help but arrive early. She’d never been a punctual person before, but apparently now it’s been beaten into her with all the rest of her princess training.

Five-star hotels are still something of a novelty for her, even though she’s stayed in quite a few by now. Thankfully she’s never stayed here before; she’d be too worried someone on staff would recognize her.

She had thought that she’d show up early, psych herself up a little, get emotionally prepared, or at least have a little time to calm her racing heart before her… date… showed up.

Unfortunately, as punctual as she is, apparently, he’s beaten her to the punch.

He’s exactly where he said he’d be, wearing exactly what he said he’d be wearing; black suit, blue tie, gold watch. Her heart is beating so loudly, she’s sure he can hear it from across the room. “Um, excuse me,” she asks, a little more timid than she’d like, sidling up to the man. “Paris?”

At his name--well, she assumes it’s his name, but it’s probably a pseudonym now that she thinks about it--he lifts his head up, his lips already quirking up in a smile that she can only describe as troublemaking. “Bethany?”

Right. She used a pseudonym as well. A second pseudonym—one other than Anja. “Yeah,” she smiles in return, her shakiness easing.

“Hey!” He stands up from his seat in the lounge, leaning in and kissing her on the cheek. “It’s so nice to meet you!”

“You too.” She realizes with a pang; he is so tall. He’s tall, with broad shoulders and a trim waist, startlingly green eyes and thick, curly black hair. And… “You’re American?”

“I am,” he says, unashamed. “The accent gave me away, huh? Hope you weren’t looking for something else.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she assures him. “I just wasn’t expecting it. It’s fine!"

He grins, crookedly, and she feels her heart skip a beat. “I’ll take it. Shall we head to dinner, then?”

***

Dinner was amazing, of course. The food, the atmosphere, and the company, she fully admits—all exceptional. Paris is an amazing conversationalist, she discovers, smart and funny and attentive, even gently teasing her a little. “You’re American, too, you know,” he’d said, sipping on his glass of wine, “so you can’t give me any grief over my lack of an accent.”

“I don’t live here,” she’d retorted, pointing her fork at him, “unlike some people I could mention.”

“Where do you live?”

“Ah, well—” Covering up her hesitation by taking a bite of chicken, she’d thought quickly. “Grew up in the States, but recently I moved to, um, Sweden, to be closer to my family.”

He’d nodded. “Expat, huh?”

“Something like that.”

He’d listened to her, really listened, chimed in at appropriate moments, made surprisingly insightful comments about her job and her life, and, well, he’s kind of perfect. If he weren’t an escort, he’d make an amazing boyfriend. She tells him as much, in the elevator on the way up to his room.

“Aw, thank you!” He smiles at her, a single dimple popping out under his strong cheekbones. “That’s very kind of you to say.”

“Why do you do this, anyway?” she asks. “I mean,” oh God, that question is some kind of faux pas isn’t it, Christ what the hell happened to all her etiquette training, “you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to—”

“No, it’s okay,” he says as the elevator door opens. They’re up on a high floor, where the higher high rollers like to stay, and she follows him as he walks confidently down the hallway. “It’s not an offensive question.”

Still, she feels pretty shitty for asking. “I’m sure you get asked that all the time.”

“Most clients honestly aren’t all that interested,” he admits, shrugging a shoulder. “They need something, I can provide it. It can be a little transactional at times, but I’ve met a lot of really cool people, so it all balances out in the end.” Arriving at their door, Paris swipes his keycard, holding it open for her like some kind of butler. “After you.”

The room is enormous, even for a five-star hotel. It is a full-on suite, with a seating area and separate bedroom, a large wooden desk off to one wall, a gorgeous, floor-to-ceiling window that looks onto Hyde Park, full of lights dotted about like mini constellations. “Wow,” she breathes, “look at that view.”

“I never get tired of it,” Paris says, coming up behind her. “No matter how many times I come here.”

“You come here a lot?” she asks. She almost follows it up with a question on how he can afford it, but she ruthlessly quashes that down.

“My clients like it,” is all he says.

“I’m not surprised, all that 1930s deco in the lobby. The façade is a little plain, though, in my opinion.”

“Oh yeah? How would you do it better, Miss Architect?” She gets the sense that he’s teasing her. It feels oddly intimate for the situation—he’s not a friend, or a boyfriend, or even a date. He’s an escort. Providing a service, as he put it. He shouldn’t be so friendly with her.

And yet. “Well, I love Neoclassical, but honestly, I’m not super into hotels.”

“What are you into, then?” Casually, he undoes his tie, sliding it off his neck. She swallows.

“Um.” Focus, girl. “Office buildings, monuments. I dunno. I just want to… I just want to build something good, you know? Something permanent. Proof that I was here, you know?”

“Something permanent, huh?” He speaks softly, a respectable distance away, but she’s drawn in anyway, by his open shirt collar and his easy demeanor and his stupid sea green eyes that remind her so much of— “That sounds really nice.”

Then he steps up to her. His hand, warm and big, draws up her arm, fingers tracing lightly over her skin, and she shivers. He cups her neck, fingering the hair at the base of her scalp, and leans in, his lips parted. He smells like salt, like the perfume of the wine they shared, like the sea on a sunny morning.

“Wait,” she murmurs against his lips.

Immediately, he pulls back. “Is something wrong?” he asks, concerned.

“No, no, it’s fine, I just—” She swallows, her heart racing. “I just need a minute.”

“Of course.” He takes a step back, and she has to stop herself from pulling him in further. “Do you need anything? Water, champagne? They always stock the minifridge.”

She shakes her head. “No, I’m fine. It’s just, I’ve never… done this before.”

“What, hire an escort?” He grins, rakish. “I can tell.”

“Not that—I mean, yes, that too, but I mean—I’ve never—” She huffs, annoyed she has to have this conversation twice in one week. “I’ve never had sex before, okay?”

That shocks him a little. His eyes widen, taken aback. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Chuckling weakly, she rubs a hand on her arm, looking out the window. “So… yeah.”

“So, don’t take this the wrong way,” says Paris, “but, there are easier ways to get laid than by using a professional. I mean, I’m grateful for the business and all, but, well, look at you.” He looks her up and down, somehow simultaneously respectful and entirely indecent. “I don’t think you’d have a problem getting a date.”

“It’s… complicated.” Understatement of the fucking millennium. “My friend thought this would be the easiest way to… go about it.”

Paris laughs. “You don’t agree.”

“I don’t… not agree,” she says. “I’m just. A little nervous.”

He nods. “I’d bet.” Chewing his lip, he looks towards the bedroom suite, and Annabeth tries not to think about how those teeth would feel on her mouth instead. “How about this; why don’t you take a shower? It might help calm you down a bit.”

“Won’t you be lonely?” she quips, a moment of reckless bravery.

“I have a few calls I can make,” says Paris, eyes dancing. “Go on. Make yourself comfortable.”

***

She has to hand it to the five-star hotels; the shower is always outstanding. Amazing pressure, amazing heat, it definitely rivals the plumbing in some of the castles she’s stayed at. And the robes, always so soft and warm, though a little on the small side. This one just barely covers her ass, which she figures isn’t a huge problem for tonight, but still.

When she steps out of the bathroom, she can hear Paris talking. “Uh huh,” he says. “Yeah. No, it’s going great. Professor Kleio said she’d write me a recommendation. She was really impressed with the last build. Yeah.” She runs her fingers through her wet hair, pushing it back from her face. “No, the conference is next month. Probably. Pretty sure I can get Tyson to help, but I don’t think it’ll get that far before the end of the week. Uh huh.”

Paris had taken off his suit jacket at some point; she can see it hung up in the closet on a hanger, perfectly pressed. He’s still in his shirt, but he’s unbuttoned it, the sleeves rolled up around his forearms. It is effortlessly attractive, even from the back. She coughs lightly, unwilling to startle him, and he turns, giving her another up-and-down, this one decidedly less respectful than the first.

“Hey, I gotta go, I’ll call you tomorrow. Say hi to Estelle for me. Love you.” And he hangs up.

“Your girlfriend?” she asks.

He smiles, all soft. “My mom.”

Something in her melts at his tone. “Aw,” she coos. “Is she back in America?”

“Yeah. I don’t get to see her all that often, so I try to call her every day.”

It is so unfathomably sweet, sweet and… humanizing, as weird as that sounds. He’s not just an unbelievably handsome man with a jaw cut like a diamond and a five-star rating, according to Piper, he’s a person with a whole other life that she knows nothing about. It’s liberating, in its own way. She can make mistakes with him, and he’ll understand. He won’t judge her, not against his other clients, or even his other partners.

Swallowing, she slides the robe off her shoulders, slowly, achingly. Maybe he turned the heat up while she wasn’t looking, because all of a sudden, she feels hot all over, from her cheeks to her chest and down, and down. Maybe it’s all coming from him, from the heat of his gaze on her, his pink tongue coming out to wet his lips. She wants it, wants them, wants him, on her and in her and all over her.

But he stays on his side of the room, waiting for her to take the plunge.

She steps up to him, close but not touching, breathing in the heady, strong scent of him, raking her eyes up his body for a change. Even through his shirt, she can tell he’s fit, the exposed skin of his arms tanned a deep brown, thick, coarse, dark hair running up to his wrists. On his right arm, there is a black trident long and straight, crossed by an old, white scar. “What happened here?” she asks, lifting her hand to trace it, leaving visible goosebumps in its wake.

“Sailing accident,” he whispers. “Long time ago.”

There’d been a kid at her summer camp for troubled teens who’d gotten thrown off his boat and hurt like that, once. She remembered so vividly, because she’d been on infirmary duty that day, and all she could think about while wrapping up his arm was how fucking stupid he'd been, how he could have gotten himself really hurt, how badly she’d wanted to kiss him.

She'd moved across the country before she'd gotten the chance, though, and no one else had ever made her feel like that since. Until now. “Got any other ink to show me?”

But instead of answering, he leans down, and he kisses her.

She’s been kissed before. She’s never had sex, but she’s done some kissing in her life. It’s usually pretty awkward, in her experience, too much of one thing and never enough of another.

Nope, not Paris. Of course, he’s also a phenomenal kisser. Why she expected anything else, she’s not sure.

His hands come up to circle her neck again, his thumbs running against her cheekbones. He kisses her, pouring passion and intent into her, his mouth soft and sweet against hers. And then he slips her some tongue, and it’s a whole different ballgame.

“Take off your shirt,” she whispers into his mouth.

He does, effortlessly, without detaching himself from her. It’s a smooth, easy motion, and she is delighted to discover that he is as firm as she suspected he was, the muscles jumping under her touch.

Almost without her realizing it, he backs her up towards the bed, her knees hitting the edge of the mattress. He lays her out against the sheets, his bare chest hot against hers. “Before we go any further,” he says, and she can feel the vibrations of his voice all throughout her body, “tell me—have you ever made yourself come?”

She flushes at his words, the dirty talk which should sound stupid but instead comes out all sultry and sexy. “Yes,” she says, breath hitching as he nips at her neck. “Yes, I have.”

“Good.” He smiles into the skin of her collarbone, traveling down, and down, and down. “I want you to show me how.”

“Isn’t that,” she pants, “your job?”

“Hmm, you’re right.” He pushes her thighs apart with his shoulders, bright eyes staring up at her as he licks his lips. “Let me get to work, then.”

Breathing heavily, she curls her fingers into the ten thousand count sheets, eyes fixed on the ceiling pattern. She can’t look at the dark head between her legs, can only breathe in through her nose as he kisses up the skin of her thigh, higher and higher and higher until…

Jesus fucking lord almighty.

***

“I found the perfect guy for you.”

“Piper, come on.” Theses brunch dates of theirs were starting to get a little repetitive. “I let you set me up with a professional, but I draw the line at a blind date.”

“Have I steered you wrong yet, your highness?” Piper asks, knowing grin firmly on her face.

Annabeth blushes. So what if that night with Paris was the most incredible experience she’d ever had? Doesn’t mean she’s ready for a full-on relationship, yet. “No,” she says, rubbing her temples.

“Great!” Then she does something that Annabeth doesn’t expect—she starts packing up. “So he’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” she smiles, so bright it borders on painful, her nose scrunching up. “I invited him to brunch. But he’s really, really nice, I promise.”

“Does he know about—”

“No, he doesn’t, but if you wanted to spill, he’s a fantastic secret keeper.”

“How do you even know—”

Piper glances over Annabeth’s shoulder, eyes lighting up, waving a hand. “Friend of a friend of Jason, he’s a grad student at Cambridge, he’s doing his dissertation on naval history, so you know the king will love him.”

“Piper!” Annabeth half-calls, half-hisses at her friend as she stands up “Piper, you can’t just—”

“Hey,” says a voice behind her. A very familiar voice. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was joining us.” She turns around. Slowly. “Nice to meet you, I’m… Percy…” he trails off, sea green eyes widening behind a pair of thick, black glasses, beneath dark, curly hair. On his arm, a black trident stood out against his skin, straight and proud.

“Percy, meet Annabeth,” Piper says. “Annabeth, meet Percy. Okay, have fun you two!”

And she waltzes out of there, completely unaware of the absolute shitstorm she left in her wake.

[mahou-furbies]

Magical Girl Raising Project Limited - character design ranking

Captain Grace

An alright pirate design with enough little details that keep it from being forgettable (I especially like the anchor buckle on her belt, and the earrings and hooks on her hair). The spikes on the coat are what stands out most to me; makes me think of a Mario enemy or something. However I’m not sure how much of a Magical Girl design it is. Like pirates and frills already go together, so the well tested formula (put a miniskirt and frills on it and it’s a magical girl look!) doesn’t really do much. Maybe it’d be better if she had some cutesy detail in there somewhere? Also is that an tail again or what, or some kind of blunt hook? What is it with these unnecessary tails in Magipro designs. 6/10. 

Funny Trick

I’ve always liked Funny Trick’s look, and it’s probably because of the pleasant colour palette, unique eyes and two-tone hair (I’m easy to please with two-tone hair). The nail polish and colourful glitter on her fur are also good little details. But apart from that I guess this is only barely strange enough to be any kind of “magical” look rather than just an anime stage magician, but at least that’s pretty close to magical girls already. Also is that a frigging tail again?? At least it goes well with the hair I guess... 8/10.

Kuru-Kuru Hime

It’s a cute design, but when I think of a ribbon magical girl I somehow expected more ribbons? Like this feels like an the higher end of an average magical girl amount of ribbons? Or maybe it’s totally over the top and my perspective is just skewed since I love ribbons and want them everywhere. Either way I like her outfit from neck down, but I’m not that into the headgear, the combo of the bonnet thingy and the weird crown just sitting on top if it looks strange to me. Nice hair tho even if it could use more ribbons. 6/10.

Weddin

I absolutely love Weddin’s design. The muted and light colour palette is very appealing to me, and the dark chains break up the mostly monochrome design so it doesn’t look dull and faded and also give the otherwise super frilly appearance quite a lot of edge. There’s repeating elements (braids in her hair and veil, the same kind of flowers everywhere, flower yellow also appearing in her eye makeup) so it doesn’t get too complicated, and all of them go well with the wedding theme too. The flame... is a bit of an odd touch and I’d rather associate it with a birthday party or Christmas than a Wedding but I guess you can have candles at weddings too, and I don’t find it too distracting.

I’m not a huge fan of the lingerie like look though, but at least visible garters go with the wedding theme and she’s so covered in veils and frills that it doesn’t look so bad. Also the back train looks kind of lazy. But overall still one of my favourite Magipro designs. 10/10.

Rain Pow

A tail again! However this time I actually like it, since she has that rainbow hoop behind her it looks good to stick something through it, and at least it somewhat resembles her twintails. 

As for the rest of the design, it has zero frills and ribbons and looks more like some kind of scifi spacesuit than a typical magical girl design, but somehow I still really like it. I think the weird heart hair is just enough to pull it into magical girl territory for me so my impressions are more on the “an unique take on an mg look” rather than “not mg enough” side. Then all the rings keep the look consistent (I absolutely love the rainbow halo) and the suit itself looks alright enough. I also find it interesting how muted the suit colours are for a rainbow magical girl and even the rainbow is pretty pastel, but I figure this is a better choice than all the expected seven colours in all their eye-strainy glory. 9/10.

Postarie

Please put on some pants, that is a shirt and not a dress.

Not too interested in this one, but I find it a commendable effort on making a design on the idea of “postal delivery girl”. Still lots of repeating elements so that’s a plus, especially the back epaulette is such an absurd idea but somehow it works and its wings and the wing hairstyle add the required fantasy touch. Bonus points for the cute birds. 7/10.

Tepsekemei

An inoffensive genie design but I struggle to really have emotions towards it. Butt flower is silly and I have no idea what the things hanging from it are, but at least they’re consistent with her head decoration. Don’t care for the shoulder spikes in an otherwise soft looking design. Huge earrings and multicoloured nails are a nice touch. 6/10.

7753

Also one of my favourite Magipro looks. It feels like the design philosophy here was “gakuran jacket and some frills, and then some hearts. And more hearts! More! Even more!” and I think it’s a great way to go with when designing a magical girl. Using just hearts everywhere makes the outfit cohesive, but since they’re all implemented in different ways it doesn’t get boring. I especially like the little hearts on her hands and under the eye, and the one in her pocket.

Two-tone hair in twintails is also one of the best design elements out there and the hairstyle is quite memorable (and also manages to incorporate the heart motif) and I’m always a fan of caps too. The green eyes and the little bit of green nail polish which you unfortunately can’t see here go well with the otherwise reddish look. Maybe the hair looks a bit too clunky (I only just realised it appears to be tied in a hoop behind her) but I won’t let it bother me. 10/10.

Mana

A solid witch design, I especially love the dimensional cape and hat. I also like the huge collar with the lace detail, but I’m not sure if it works with the hat brim. Not a big fan of the hair, I think it clutters the design. The snake leg accessory feels weird and a bit out of place but I do appreciate the asymmetry and also having something dark to break up the otherwise plain bottom part of the design.. 7/10.

Gekokujou Hana

I tend not to be a huge fan of kimono-based clothes, but this one is an exception I guess. The great colours must play a part in it, and the bottom part is fun. Then the dangly decorations add the correct amount of strangeness so it’s not just a bunny girl in a mini kimono Also, another tail, but this time it’s almost a requirement and I love how ridiculously huge it is (and also repeats elsewhere in her outfit). But really I can’t think of anything to dislike about this, must be the colours and the tail. 10/10.

Archfiend Pam

I believe this is the record on how little clothing you can wear in this franchise... At least she has the personality to pull that off. But that is not a top! At least it’s something new...? The wings fit the description in the story, but I don’t think these blank rectangles look very aesthetically pleasing. I like the tail best, the fur edge makes it a lot more interesting than just the usual demon tail. I don’t know, if the theme is a sexy demon girl this design definitely accomplishes it in a unique way, but also I don’t care for this fanservicey designs. Also not a fan of the hair. 4/10.

Pythie Frederica

Before drawing her for the chibi series I thought she had some kind of a helmet but upon closer inspection of course it’s a veil. But what are the horns? 

Upon closer inspection this one is also very fanservicey, in that her “dress” is actually see-through and the only thing covering the critical areas look like thin belt-thingies. At least she doesn’t look like she’s ten... But a major issue I have is the bottom part of her outfit, like how is it supposed to work? Is it one big piece of cloth, or multiple thin ones? What is the “fire” behind her? Is the dark part her hair, or the clothing, and is it supposed to be black or just shading? I do like the stars; otherwise the design gives a more mature “sexy” air, but the little stars everywhere adds a cute element. The colour palette is pleasing, but as much as I like multicoloured hair it doesn’t grant points this time, because the wiggly stray strands look very out of place here and the colour change makes them even more noticeable. 2/10.

Tot Pop

This one really isn’t my aesthetic, I very much prefer the cutesy style and there isn’t really anything ‘magical girl’ about this design. And it doesn’t really evoke the supposed image of ‘pop star’ to me either, like if you remove the guitar I’d think her theme was a prisoner or halloween. Though I don’t really know what a ‘pop star’ should look like anyway, like can’t they wear anything they want, I know Lady Gaga had a meat dress or something. But as of this design, I don’t think there’s anything specifically wrong with it, the colours are pleasing, the details are consistent and it’s not bland or boring either, but it just doesn’t do much for me because of the theme. I like the blood-stained hair and the spiky hair accessory, the long hanging part makes for a nice silhouette. Meanwhile the skulls on her shoulders feel somewhat tacked on, and in general I don’t care for piercings in anywhere else than ears. 5/10.

Pukin

And it’s a tail again. What is it with the stupid tacked on tails on every other design in this franchise? Sometimes it’s not so badly out of place, like if you have an youthful cutesy design, a fluffy animal tail can still add to the cute effect even if it’s otherwise out of place. But Pukin is supposed to be this dangerous and majestic authority figure and a cutesy tail very much doesn’t fit that image. And while we’re on the topic of animal features, the story describes that she has a feather decoration in her hair, but the way it’s drawn as a tiny feather jutting directly up in the middle of her head gives me more the impression of a character whose theme is a baby bird rather than a fantasy prince.

Now that we’ve dealt with the tail let’s get the biggest issue out of the way: I’m aware that there was a time in history when people used to wear these kind of giant ruffled collars but I really don’t care if there’s some kind of history based reasoning. It looks like your head is on a plate and it’s something I can’t ignore. I don’t feel even clowns can pull that off. There is no way getting around this.

When I first read Limited I thought Pukin’s appearance was an absolute mess and an instant 1/10, but upon closer inspection there is stuff I like about it too. She has a good colour palette, great shoes and gloves, and as a friend of multicoloured hair I welcome the yellow hair tips. The big heavy cape balances the small top and pants, and I really like the fur. Earrings go well with the pants too. The theme is a bit confused, or at least I don’t know of any fairy tales about pumpkin prince, but it’s not like I would complain about pineapple or cauliflower princess so that’s not really a problem. 3/10.

Sonia Bean

And we end Limited with yet another excellent design. I like how this manages to look kind of tattered and messy without actually being gross and dirty with the patchwork dress, dustball-like thingies, newspaper clippings and asymmetry. Even her hair looks disheveled. The headgear gives the design an old-fashioned vibe which suits her well since she’s so old. The light palette, soft design elements and ribbons give the look a cute feel, but at the same time she feels suspiciously pale, and the manic expression screams danger, like you can’t reason with this girl. She’s like a ghost of a Victorian era child who wants to play with you but you know you definitely should not follow her.

The design only works if I don’t think too much about it though, like dust is gross and newspaper paper is crinkly and not soft at all, but since we’re magical girls here I can ignore that and enjoy the image the clothing evokes. 10/10.

------------------

Limited average: 6,9.

[thebladeblaster]

Heart of the Vanguard Concept Chapter final part

(Concept chapters are basically just to test to see if people will like a fic idea I have. This fic crosses over Yugioh Duel Monsters and Cardfight Vanguard.)

Yugi

Hand: 0

“Now, I end my turn.”, Yugi said.

“I draw and I activate my own Pot of Greed allowing me to draw two cards!”, Aichi started.

Aichi

Hand: 4

“I summon Valkriyan Knight and I attack your Guard!”, Aichi declared.

Aichi

Hand: 3

“Because of its effect it can’t be destroyed by monsters with more than 1900 attack points.”, Yugi explained.

“But you still take damage.”, Aichi pointed out.

Yugi LP 1000->500

“I end my turn.”, Aichi said.

“Dang it! Where did all your equip cards go?!”, Kamui questioned as he grabbed Aichi’s arm and shook him, causing him to sweat drop.

“I’m really on the edge right now. This next card will decide everything.”, Yugi thought as he drew his next card.

“I set one card facedown. I end my turn.”, Yugi said.

“I draw and summon Noble Knight Borz.”, Aichi started.

Noble Knight Borz

ATK 1700/ DEF 909

Aichi

Hand:3

“I activate the effect of Wingal from my graveyard to equip myself to Borz. Due to Borz’s effect he becomes a dark type and gains 1 level more importantly I can reveal 3 Noble Arms from my deck and my opponent chooses one of the 3 to add to my hand the rest go to the graveyard.

Aichi held up the back to three cards for Yugi to pick. Yugi was unsure of which one to pick. Honestly any equip card he uses could be potentially bad for him. He chose the card on the far left. Aichi revealed the card Yugi picked it was Gwenhwyfar, Queen of Noble Arms. Aichi sent the other two to his graveyard. Aichi decided to not use Gwenhwyfar now.

Aichi

Hand:4

“I set Manju to defense mode and attack you with Borz.”, Aichi declared.

I activate my trap card Magical Hats. My Guard is sent face down and I set 3 traps from my deck face down and shuffle their positions.”, Yugi countered.

“That means I only have two chances.”, Aichi said.

“You were cautious. You probably thought my set trap was Mirror Force, that's why you set your monster to defense.”, Yugi replied, making Aichi sigh.

“You're right I am cautious. Well I can’t do anything about it now. I attack the two inner hats.”, Aichi replied.

Yugi revealed the cards to be Fake Trap and Trap Jammer. Neither of them were Yugi’s monster. Many of their spectators gawked in disbelief.

“That luck is unreal.”, Emi commented.

“It’s called the heart of the cards.”, Yugi replied.

“So, dumb luck.”, Misaki replied.

“I end my turn.”, Aichi said.

“I draw and I activate Monster Reborn to bring back Gaia.”, Yugi started.

“I attack your Borz with Gaia.”, Yugi declared.

Aichi LP 3700->2800

“That was smart.”, Kai commented.

“Uh why?”, Anzu questioned.

“If I attacked Valkriyan he would have brought back Majesty Lord Blaster. Not to mention I stopped him from adding more equip cards to his hand.”, Yugi explained.

“Right he could use an equip card to try to get over Gaia.”, Honda realized.

“With Gaia’s effect he gains 2600 attack. Now I end my turn.”, Yugi said.

Gaia ATK 2600->5200

“I draw.”, Aichi started.

Aichi

Hand:5

“I summon Noble Knight Gawayn and I activate Double Summon. I tribute Gawayn and Manju to summon Incandescent Lion, Blond Ezel!”, Aichi continued.

Incandescent Lion, Blond Ezel

( BEAST-WARRIOR / FIRE / EFFECT/ ATK : 3000 / DEF : 2500 / LV 8

Effect: Once per turn, you can reveal the top four cards of your deck; choose one warrior or beast-warrior monster among them and special summon it if you do this monster gains attack equal to half that monster’s original attack, then shuffle the rest of the cards you revealed back into your deck. The monster special summoned by this effect can cannot be used as material for special summoning except warrior or beast-warrior monsters.)

“That’s the card he won from Kourin in Battle City.”, Kamui commented.

“It’s all or nothing I activate the effect of Blond Ezel to evacuate the top 4 cards of my deck if one is a warrior or beast warrior monster I can special summon it and Ezel gains half its attack points.”, Aichi said.

“Come on! Draw something like Kuriboh!”, Honda said.

Aichi revealed the top 4 cards of his deck: Blaster Dark, Mirror Force, Noble Arms Gallatin, and Noble Knight Iyvanne.

Any semblance of a poker face Yugi had dropped when he saw the first card. Yugi’s expression looked completely pale as he saw Blaster Dark.

“I am so glad this wasn’t a shadow game.”, Yugi said as slumped.

“That doesn’t sound good, Yugi.”, Anzu commented, sweat dropping.

“C-crap! Blaster Dark seriously?! I thought you only had one like Blaster Blade?”, Honda questioned.

“Actually Ren gave me 3 when he gave me the Ignoble Knight deck.”, Aichi replied, causing Honda to gape.

“Ren probably owned all of the Blaster Darks in circulation considering he had his own 3.”, Miwa added.

“Now, just imagine if he had 3 Blaster Blades.” Shin said.

“I frankly don’t think I want to.”, Honda replied.

“I chose Blaster Dark which means Ezel gains 1050 attack. And Blaster Dark returns. How funny I was hoping for a Dark monster to equip Gwenhwyfar to.”, Aichi continued.

Incandescent Lion, Blond Ezel

ATK 3000->4050

“I activate Blaster Dark’s effect tributing Valkriyan Knight to destroy Gaia. Now, I attack you directly.”, Aichi declared.

“Yeah…Umm...I lost. Man, he should duel you Yami next time.”, Yugi said.

Yugi LP 500->0

“It seems our bonds with our cards are equal. Hmm. It was an entertaining duel.”, Yami said.

Aichi blinked for a few seconds looking completely stunned as if he was still trying to process his victory.

“Oh my god! I beat Yugi!”, Aichi gasped.

“You did it bro!”, Kamui cheered, pulling Aichi into a hug.

“Aichi!”, Emi called out, hugging her brother.

“Good job.”, Misaki said.

“That was the most wicked duel I’ve ever seen!”, the brown haired teen said.

“Man, your really getting strong bud.”, Miwa commented.

“Well of course he had me as his master after all.”, Morikawa proclaimed, making the others sweat drop.

“Congrats.”, Yugi said.

Aichi’s blushed at all the congratulations.

“Well, looks like I’m up next Aichi. If you’re up for it.”, Kai said.

“Of course!”, Aichi accepted, instantly practically bouncing with joy.

If he was a puppy they could imagine his tail would be wagging right now. They had plenty of more fun duels that day. They kinda lost track of time too not noticing it changing to night. Aichi and Yugi sat down next to each other the former seeming rather exhausted.

“Maybe next time you can duel me and Yami together.”, Yugi said.

“I don’t think I could beat you both working together even with Psyqualia.”, Aichi replied as he rubbed his eyes.

“Really? You seemed pretty strong using it?”, Yugi questioned.

“Well...I’m not so sure besides it’s not just something I can turn on and off whenever I want. It just kinda activates and deactivates its own. I’m not sure I would feel comfortable using it if I could. ”, Aichi replied.

“You can’t?”, Yugi replied, stunned.

“Well, I don’t even understand how it works. It just kinda does. I don’t even know why I have it and others don’t.”, Aichi replied.

“Maybe we’ll find out one of these days. Gods know I still hardly understand how this puzzle works. Though, I really liked the duel with just the two of us with no supernatural forces involved. Thinking about it has been awhile since I have just relied on my own strength and won. I think I have more to grow by myself then I won’t have to rely on Yami all the time.”, Yugi replied.

Aichi smiled at this a rather sleepy smile but a smile.

“Yeah, I still have a lot to grow too. I got lucky against you and Ren. I need to become strong enough to win without luck.”, Aichi replied.

“Hehe. I think I was luckier than you in that duel.”, Yugi replied.

Yugi sweat dropped as Aichi seemed to dip in and out of sleep.

“Come on, Aichi don’t fall asleep in the chair your back will hurt.”, Emi told her brother with motherly worry.

“I’mmmm alright Emmm...zzzz”, Aichi replied, before falling asleep.

“Aichi! Seriously I swear you could never get by without me or mom!”, Emi said angrily, shaking her brother.

“Ffive mooore minutes…”, Aichi replied groggily.

To be continued…

So, this isn’t actually how the fic would actually start its just to give you an idea of what it would be like. Since I added in some Vanguard cards I decided to give Yugi and co. some of their newer support cards to balance things out. Not sure when I’ll officially start on this fic maybe when Dark Circuit is done and I’m a bit further in Tamer ZERO. Who knows honestly my attention span sucks. I was supposed to be writing Dark Circuit and I ended up writing this instead. I’ll try to get to it after I’m finished with my rewatch of the Avatar series and my trip soon. Honestly, I just need to focus one at a time and I’d get stuff done. Hopefully, I can finish Dark Circuit before the end of the Summer. I have had a hard time writing it for the past few months for some reason.

[emptymanuscript]

The Cat

I’m about 9 minutes into the movie Bright, and all the criticisms are kind of crystalizing. But one of the things that’s killing me is how they’re setting up the MC, Daryl Ward.

My bet is that the film makers thought they were setting up Ward as the cat. And they’re not.

The Cat is the term for a story abstraction from the book Save the Cat! by Blake Snyder and its sequels.

The Cat itself, is something (and it can be nearly anything that the audience will value) in need of aid that doesn’t HAVE to get it. A random cat up a tree can be the Cat. The cat that belongs to the person you want to get with, who has promised carnal relations if their cat is returned, can’t be the Cat because there is a significant reason and reward beyond simple morality for it to be helped.

If a character saves the Cat, gives it aid, helps it out, etc. when it’s just out of the goodness of the heart, that character is defined in audience perception as heroic. Most action stories will have the MC Save the Cat! in some way within the first few scenes. It’s a short hand way to show that they are “good.” And if you have a Save the Cat! moment then followed by them doing something “bad” you’ve SHOWN the audience the trajectory of the story: this person is a good person underneath but they’ve gone astray and need to find their heroism again to save the day. You’ve told the story in miniature. So it’s very useful.

But that’s not the only way to use the Cat.

In many stories the main character IS the Cat. The story in the first few scenes shows a moment where the character is clearly in need of aid and doesn’t really quite get what they need. They get enough maybe to survive but no one is saving them. This signals to the audience that this story is about growth and confidence. The MC will start out in a relatively helpless state and figure out how to come to their own rescue.

One of my all time favorite examples of that is the movie Ms. Congeniality. The opening scene, which is only about 90 seconds, is playing hard with the Cat.

The set up starts with the typical over the top Save the Cat set up. Our hero is going to ride into the rescue, save the cat, and be awesome. And then it turns. She’s not saving the cat, remember, the cat is something helped without reward, and she very much wants a reward. She IS the Cat. The real person in need of aid in this microsmic story is her. And she doesn’t get it. To keep going, she turns to her strengths and just barrels through. But, again, in miniature, this scene has told us everything we need to know about the trajectory of her story. She has all of the wrong kind of power, she uses it to mask her need, and what she is going to have to find is the “impossible” how to get what she really needs and how to draw helpers to her.

That’s the power of being the Cat. It draws sympathy. It paints expectations. And it communicates problems very clearly.

Unfortunately, many storytellers seem to believe that injury and/or pain is enough to make a character the Cat, and that just isn’t so. Cats are about choices and character trajectories. So, if you have someone shot in the first few minutes of a story, even though, yes, they NEED help and yes, they’re going to continue to need help to get back to where they were or better, it’s a non optional help. It carries with it its own reward. They’re better for no other reason than that they are recovering.

Go back to Ms. Congeniality and that’s not true. Her “saving” doesn’t intrinsically give her her reward. It gives her the key to then go out and get what she wants. They’re two separate goals. And that’s why it works. Her choice gives her another choice and that gives her her happy ending. If the story was merely a search for feminine power and getting it, it just wouldn’t feel as satisfying because it wouldn’t get the resonance of WHY feminine power is a necessity for her. As a really excellent rule of thumb, think of the Cat as representing the NEED of a character which must be fulfilled in order for them to get what they WANT. This allows for both happy and sad endings that are satisfying because they each deliver on the premise, even if it is a radically different outcome.

Ms. Congeniality has four fundamental outcomes arcing from that initial scene.

She can get the Feminine Power she needs and a boyfriend she wants - that’s a happy comedic story.

She can get the Feminine Power she needs but not get a boyfriend - that’s an “unhappy” comedic story, which can still be funny if she still pops the new not-boyfriend in the nose, happy and unhappy are textures as much as anything.

She can FAIL to get the Feminine Power she needs but get a boyfriend who appreciates her for who she really is - “happy” tragedy. Remember that comedy and tragedy in the literary sense don’t mean funny and tear jerker. Comedy means “what makes you sick but you get better” it’s about having trouble obtaining a goal but getting it in the end. Tragedy means “what kills you,” it’s about not being able to ever obtain the goal. So this kind of ending is really about saying that the goal was stupid all along.

She can Fail to get the Feminine Power she needs and because of that FAIL to get any boyfriend she might want. This is the pure tragedy. It’s both “sad” and tragic. She gets nothing. BUT this can still be funny. If you watch them closely, a LOT of slapstick comedies conform to this architecture. The characters enter the story as fools and leave the story as fools without having been enlightened one wit.

My extreme suspicion is that Bright wants to set up this kind of situation. Since the first thing we see of Officer Ward is that he feels under threat. All of his motions are indicative of someone who recognizes he is in extreme but non-immediate danger. He’s waiting for it. And then he’s shot. And then he’s clearly still having issues after he has recovered because his wife is urging him out of bed in the afternoon. He is the Cat, right?

Well, there is another relationship to the Cat that I think they’ve actually set up harder and is overriding that narrative.

Kick the Cat

You don’t usually see Kick the Cat in genre fiction. And there’s a very good reason. Genre fiction tends to lean toward “physical” action. By which I mean that the main conflicts of the plot happen outside of the Main Character’s body. The characters either go out and do something or something comes into their lives and forces them to do something. So, even though character growth is likely necessary and choices will be based on what they learn about themselves as people, that is expressed through the exterior plot. The Detective goes and solves and crime and that action results in the Detective’s change. Which means that internal character change is relatively harder to show because it doesn’t take center stage.

This means that a flawed person becoming a kind person works. But a deeply flawed, nearly broken person, who needs to grow into a kind person usually doesn’t. Because genre fiction doesn’t have enough cameras in that area where you can show it.

So when it happens in Genre Fiction, Kicking the Cat is generally an announcement that said character who does it is one of the villains and the reader should prep themselves for the sudden and inevitable betrayal.

Now that isn’t as true in Literary Fiction. Because Literary Fiction is the opposite of Genre Fiction in this way. Instead of the conflict generally being “physical”, the conflict in Literary Fiction is generally “mental.” The main conflict happens inside the body of the Main Character. So the majority of the action and most of the cameras are there. So Literary Fiction allows that kind of deep, essentially broken, flaw because it gives the story the space and insight to work with it. So it’s not as necessarily a trumpeting warning that you’re dealing with a villain. It can mean that this MC has a long way to go to fix themselves, if they can make it at all.

Unfortunately for Bright, it’s a Genre Film. AND I think that this is much more what they’re broadcasting. Remember I’ve only seen nine minutes so far. But the first nine minutes are saying a lot.

The opening credits play out over a visual depiction of a race war between the Orcs and the Police. This is, in visual language, the announcement that the Orcs are poor and oppressed and should be read as the equivalent of POC in our own world.

Ward, played by Will Smith, could open up a whole can of worms with that reading, and there’s clearly some intent to considering his neighbors are absolutely what you would see in a shot of the ghetto in another movie, but instead we go pretty much straight to:

He kills a fairy. It’s not depicted as innocent, it’s clearly a pest. But it’s also not exactly powerful. He kills it with a zealous slap of a broom. This is very plausibly the Cat. Especially with the reaction from his neighbors, who also have zero affection for the fairy but all react viscerally to Ward’s aggression. The essential problem with Cats as devices is that the audience takes them in subconsciously. There’s no opportunity for a sophisticated discussion when butts are in the seats. So the only way to control what the audience thinks is to be careful not to send conflicting messages. And this is a doozy. If it is read as a Kick the Cat moment, which I’ll be honest I am seeing it as, I can’t see Ward as the hero after this. I am waiting for his sudden and inevitable betrayal because he is absolutely one of the cops meant to be depicted up in the graffiti that slid past during the opening credits.

At this point, I’m not looking for his redemption. I’m looking for how he is going to pose a problem for the advancement for the story. Which makes him a villain and not a hero.

Worse, this is set between two discussions about his partner. I have to admit what I was really expecting was an action packed version of:

Not really the comedy aspect but that his partner was new and they had to work through their problems to get along and be their best.

There’s a reason that’s pretty much the gold standard. Because learning to get along is a standard useful storyline and commands both characters to grow. It’s the same basic dynamic as a Romance. The joy is in seeing people figure out how to click together in spite of their difficulties. The tension is ‘will they / won’t they?’ and you know they will but it’s very entertaining to see them work it out.

But that’s not what’s going on in Bright.

By the time the movie starts, Ward and Jakoby are already partners. Coming in in media res communicates that this isn’t really a story about a relationship forming. Which means they can’t really show the full arc of a relationship, and so that’s unlikely to be the focus of the story. Which communicates to the audience that they should have reason to doubt any kind of ‘will they.’

This is cemented by the three conversations immediately around the fairy killing. Ward explains to his wife that Orcs are different, not stupid, just that they think different. It is not him actually saying that the Orc isn’t stupid compared to a human just that they’re naturally different and can’t be held to the same standard.

He then tries to give that as a lesson to his daughter. Orcs are different so you have to keep Orcs in their proper mental categorization.

At which point Jakoby shows up again.

He is not welcome. Pretty much at all.

But here’s the thing, like his initial introduction:

Jakoby is depicted as kind and considerate. Up to where I’ve stopped, I haven’t seen him commit a single act of even aggression. He wants to know what kind of sauce Ward wants on his burrito.

He wants to pick up Ward to help him along. He responds with affection and magnanimous giving to Ward’s daughter. In other words, he’s coming across as the innocent in all this. Which really starts to qualify him for the Cat category. That may be ruined in the next ten minutes but right now, I’m looking at a guy who has been insulted and yelled at for doing nothing, who has only shown concern and kindness, and who exists around a framework of his established partner killing a fairy. If Jakoby is a Cat, then what I’m being taught to worry about by what the film is presenting is that Ward is going to try take him down. Because maybe tomorrow, Orc Lives Don’t Matter.

I’m being taught by the first 9 minutes that Ward is, at best, a potential villain. But that the story is going to be from his point of view. And it’s just not a great look. And I would suspect that’s a lot of what people were responding to when this movie first hit: that it is setting up a very unpleasant story line that usually doesn’t play out in the type of story that it is.

So, no matter how it works out in Bright, which I am probably now returning to, when it comes time for you to work with your own story, be aware of the messages you’re sending and what story arcs you’re selling. Cats as an abstract concept, no matter what they are, exist whether you love or hate Blake Snyder. They existed long before he coined the name. At an even deeper level it’s simply that your character’s actions and events in a story naturally carry a “moral” weight. We, as an audience, expect what your characters do to be representative of who they are, for good and ill. Where what they do conflicts with who they are, we’ll expect an explanation and a counterbalance. So be wary of doing something else. Sending the wrong message with the wrong set up can drive away audiences who would be perfectly content with your story without the conflicting information.

[eleutheramina]

Jack Atlas Analysis - Part 2

Who is FC arc Jack?

How about DS arc Jack? - here

How could the DS arc have done better with regards to Jack?

Part 2: How about DS arc Jack?

DS!Jack is certainly in a much different situation that FC!Jack, and I think the line between character derailment and character development can be hard to draw sometimes. There are some who would argue that the change of lead from Tomioka to Yoshida does change him into a different character, but again, I don’t wholly agree with that. I actually am pretty fine with his characterization for most of the arc. I’m not going to touch on Team Satisfaction and how that retroactively affects Jack’s character because that’s a whole can of worms I don’t care to open. 

So who is DS!Jack? Well, he no longer holds his King title, he is definitely not unbeatable, and his Satellite origins are revealed to the public. He spends the first couple of the episodes unconscious, the third in the hospital with a broken arm. FC!Jack would probably think DS!Jack is pathetic and a disgrace. 

Less of Jack’s Internal Monologue More than how he’s characterized himself, I think one of the more subtle but significant differences about DS!Jack is how his personality is conveyed to the audience. Whereas FC!Jack has a decent amount of moments of internal monologue, I feel like there’s relatively little of Jack’s internal monologue for most of the DS arc. This, I think, contributes to why DS!Jack feels different than FC!Jack even right off the bat. Not to say FC!Jack doesn’t also convey a lot about Jack through his body language, actions, or dialogue, but I think how DS!Jack is characterized relies on it more heavily.

For instance, we don’t get much (or really, any) internal monologue about Jack’s feelings about his loss. Jack’s first action in the DS arc is to knock down a vase in anger because of his Satellite background being revealed; he also reacts similarly angrily when it makes the headlines in episode 31, paired with a flashback of his defeat and Yusei’s words about his pride of being a King, as well as when he hears his fans’ cheers and imagines Yusei’s face very heterosexually in the fountain. 

Both the reason for and the impact of not knowing a lot of Jack’s thoughts regarding his loss is, I think, that the audience mainly has Carly’s perspective on him, especially in episode 31. I think this contributes to the foreignness of DS!Jack--after all, Carly did not exist in the FC arc and we as an audience are not used to her perspective on Jack being the primary way we know him. I don’t say this as necessarily a good or bad thing, just to be clear. 

Right at the beginning of the DS arc, Carly is introduced and given an amount of protagonist-like focus to rival Yusei’s, especially notable since she does not initially have any clear connections with any of the other established characters (unlike Crow, who gets a comparable amount of focus but is retconned into being revealed to have been friends with Yusei and Jack). 

Unlike Jack, Carly does get both internal and external monologues, and the amusement park plot of episode 31 is primarily from Carly’s perspective. She doesn’t know where Jack is trying to go or what Jack’s intentions are for 90% of the episode, and so neither does the audience, and only when she figures it out do we know that he’s heading to the tower. We don’t get to hear Jack mourn his loss of his Kingship when he’s staring at the fountain; it’s Carly who narrates his hurt for us. 

This is especially clear with this shot:

Carly is literally looking at the audience during her internal monologue, suggesting she’s talking to us. Also lowkey this line is funny in hindsight because like she does melt his heart later. 

Even while they’re watching Kiryu and Yusei’s duel, or even in episode 37, we basically don’t get anything about what Jack thinks. We only get what he says to Carly or Mikage (most of which is exposition about Zero Reverse or Team Satisfaction), or Carly’s perception of him. 

Jack’s Relationship with Carly Jack’s initial interactions with Carly feel fairly in-character to me. He’s pretty indifferent to her initially, but if Jack is someone who evaluates people based on their merit, I think the moment when Carly defends him from a blast is when she overcomes the threshold to be worthy of some respect by Jack. And even then, he continues to seem either indifferent or annoyed by her--he initially leaves her apartment without any notice, he gets fed up with her antics to get a scoop from him, and he leaves her at the park and does what he’d originally set out to do. Even after the scene at the tower at the end of 31, he continues to not show much warmth to her at all for the remainder of their interactions before she becomes a DS. 

The impact of the scarcity of internal monologues for DS!Jack is that the development of Jack’s feelings for Carly is kept under wraps for most of the arc. FC!Jack has copious monologues about his being King, etc. As for DS!Jack? Well at one point, he thinks, “What I need to protect” when staring at Carly’s glasses. . . and that’s basically it as far as what Jack thinks about Carly.

The rest is conveyed through Jack staring at her glasses a lot--often paired with or commented on by Mikage, which helps put what he’s doing in a more explicitly romantic light--and conversations with Mikage. Indeed, we only fully understand his motivation when Mikage asks him directly why he’s going to Satellite. Contrast with FC!Jack whose motivation is clear from the beginning and which we hear from his own words. 

Now, I think having Jack’s feelings be mostly beneath the surface is a smart move; in hindsight, it’s pretty clear that he has feelings for Carly, but because they are not overstated, Jack doesn’t seem too lovesick or sentimental in a way that would definitely feel out of character. Rushed Relationship Development Even the most ardent of Scoopshippers can probably agree that the leap Jack and Carly’s relationship takes is a large one. In their duel, it is beyond clear that Jack is extremely in love with her, extremely considerate of her wellbeing, her feelings, her desires, and willing to die with her, and Carly’s feelings are of similar intensity. 

Now, I do think we see that Carly as a character understands and pushes Jack in ways other characters don’t, and in a way that I can imagine Jack eventually also comes to reciprocate. 

But ultimately the relationship itself is quite rushed and the two lack actual quality time together on screen. The scene where Carly is imagining Jack in her apartment and crying about things he took from her helps in creating the illusion that they spent a lot of time together and were able to get close--but ultimately, we don’t get to see much of that on screen, and I think that’s probably the biggest weakness of this subplot. Suggested interactions don’t make up for onscreen interactions, especially when it comes to moving characters from feeling lukewarm about one another to the passion and commitment that Jack and Carly display in their duel. The scenes from episode 29 and episode 31 get references in flashbacks a lot later in the arc--and while they’re certainly shiptastic, they don’t feel commensurate to the intensity of their feelings for one another later.  

Of course, I imagine part of this is because, at its core, YGO is not a romance anime, and the DS arc just really needed to move the plot along. Kiryu and Yusei’s duel, and Jack’s subsequent leaving of Carly, starts in the episode right after the tower scene. The writers needed Jack/Carly’s relationship to go from point A to point B as efficiently as possible. 

Part of the drama/mystery of the Jack/Carly plot is that the audience isn’t fully sure what Jack feels until the duel itself, even though it’s hinted that he cares for her; Jack’s confession of love comes as somewhat of a surprise. But I think this also meant that we did not get to see a lot of the moments of them caring about each other on screen. And I also think that it’s possible to increase their onscreen interactions and make their bonding more obvious without sacrificing too much of the mystery surrounding Jack’s real feelings. Continuity With FC!Jack One thing I do think the DS arc does well is articulating Jack’s FC character pretty accurately and continuing his arc with similar themes/ideas. “Change Destiny” is a really heavy-handed card, but I do think that the idea of Jack believing he is destined to be King or walk on the path of the King, and then abandoning that concept entirely for a path he makes himself, is consistent with FC!Jack’s doggedness in being King and the way Godwin/Jaeger talk about it as something he’s meant to be.

Although the execution was not great, I think the idea of Jack being tempted by the idea of being a Dark King - one who “needs not friends, bonds,” and rules over the whole world turned into hell, is an extreme version of the loner king who abandons friends for something better, as Jack did

Similarly, the idea of a real King that Carly hopes Jack will become in episode 59, though cheesy, does expand on the idea of him being a King in a way that is also consistent with not being a loner/gaining bonds. When Jack calls himself “a person who would never give a thought to others... willing enough to betray and hurt [his] friends, sacrificing any and all for [his] own ambitions” — I think that’s spot on who Jack is in the FC arc. 

And Godwin and Jack’s dramatic exchange during their duel at the end of episode 63 about the only way to being a King is being alone, about how Jack abandoned bonds — that’s pretty congruent with FC Jack. And having Jack say that he also abandoned being the King, when his attachment to being the King was the cornerstone of his character before, is an effective move in terms of rounding out his character arc. The other biggest flaw with Jack in the DS arc is that we don’t see him struggle more with abandoning that identity.

In fact, DS!Jack spends a lot less time angsting talking about being the King--which again, makes some sense because he lost the FC and the focus of the story shifts/expands to be more about the Signer vs Dark Signer conflict. If it is brought up, it’s mostly to emphasize that he’s not the King anymore, such as when he corrects Mikage about calling him King in episode 32, or when he calls that man “a different person” to Godwin in episode 42. 

Jack feels notably less condescending and egoistical in the DS arc, even from the very beginning. Part of this can be explained away by the fact that he is no longer in the settings in which his ego can shine the most--the Duel Stadium, or his mansion--and therefore doesn’t really have that many people to look down on anymore. I also think part of it is because, due to the lack of internal monologue (and the use of Carly as a viewpoint character), we don’t hear his thoughts as often, disparaging or not. 

The most we see of the condescending Jack is probably in episode 43, when he beats up Yusei when he’s upset about having to fight Kiryu. It’s also the main time we see Jack talk about how he feels about losing his title - he says Yusei “dragged [him] off his throne and gave [him] such disgrace.” Here we see how this aspect of Jack, rather than mostly serving to make him look cruel as it had in the FC arc, actually helps to challenge Yusei’s character. Indeed, in general we see Jack is more supportive of Yusei. We also see a bit of Jack’s old boastfulness when he says that “Your Earthbound Gods aren’t so great” and saves Martha’s kids in episode 46. 

Jack also doesn’t push other people away as much in the DS arc, though he definitely still does at some points. When Mikage tries to draw closer to him, he ultimately rebuffs her. Even Carly initially leaves without much thought and brushes her off when she first tries to talk to him. When Yusei’s talking about his nakama in episode 45, it’s Jack who says he’s not anyone’s friend. Jack is also arguably the most closed off from the other Signers. No one knows who he’s dueling, and he’s the only Signer to not have anyone watching his duel. 

Yet he also more openly cares about other people. Yusei’s injury in episode 35 gives him great concern for him that honestly he doesn’t show Yusei much during the FC. We are shown Jack’s old caregiver, Martha, whom he clearly cares for. And of course, there’s Carly. 

Finally, Jack has more moments of generic heroism in the DS arc, whereas in the FC he basically has none. He goes into the crumbling Arcadia Movement to save Aki, and he also dramatically saves the orphans from being sacrificed to the Earthbound God Uru. Whereas Jack could be said to be one of the antagonists of the FC arc, he certainly is portrayed as more of a protagonist in the DS arc, when the grander Signer-Dark Signer conflict plays out. 

[markoberposts]

LOVE ISLAND USA

I've been trying to analyze why I enjoy the daily series "Love Island" so much and I've come up with my best guess. It seems odd being that I don't like most reality TV shows, especially of the types like "The Bachelor" and "The Bachelorette". I don't really even like watching most either Talent type or Music type shows. And I don't like most of those Reality shows about celebrities such as all of those "Housewives of New Jersey" and any of those other types of related shows. I do, however, like some of the more-interesting types like this recent Reality series "Tough As Nails", as well as the Reality series "Lego Masters". But of these people types--especially focused on drama--I don't like them at all, and that includes my not liking the "Big Brother" Reality series whatsoever. Probably most of what I dislike in these regards centers from the fact that I have zero interest in soup-opera shows of any type, being that they focus on drama. And seeing a bunch of people going through dramatic emotions is just not of interest to me most of the time, being that I try to avoid drama in my life and do pretty well at it most of the time, short of how dramatic that things I'm not expecting to happen can make me feel somewhat devastated normally regarding my stress-levels. So perhaps that might have something to do with why I'm so inclined toward not liking drama whatsoever. So in regard to the Reality series "Love Island", the main reason that this show is an exception for me is because it most-of-the-time focuses more on building relationships with people of their choice rather than focusing on trying to create drama for them. And in so doing, it gives them a lot of fun and interesting experiences with each other with our being right there with them to share in all of their cool feelings for each other, especially as they start to like each other more and more. Perhaps the bikinis and sex appeal portions of the show appeals to younger people, but it doesn't focus on those things the majority of the time, and it isn't what really binds me to the show so hard. If it was all just girls in swimming suits and such, I'd honestly lose interest in it rather quickly, being that such images and sights are easy to find around anywhere nowadays whenever you might want to see them. The Internet has simply made those types of images and scenes some of the easiest things to find out there. So that most certainly isn't at all what draws me to the show. On the other hand, if the people weren't attractive, then it would be kind of hard to watch. So there is SOME importance to the contestants being good-looking, otherwise it probably wouldn't really be bearable to watch. When I was younger, my hormones made me want all of that kissing-all-over type stuff like they seem to want. But now it just seems like a lot of germs to me to watch them doing, so that's not at all what draws me to the show either. So the only thing left is that it's the romantic aspects of it...the chance that strangers might find their matches and actually fall in love while we're watching, given that they make their own choices all along, with nobody having been pre-assigned to each other such as in these past shows like "The Dating Game" or these Reality shows like "The Bachelor" where there's only one choice as far as from the other point-of-view goes...meaning that they either have to be interested in that one single person that they've come on the show for or they have to leave the show. That makes it just a wee bit too boring for me, with some of their natural freedom of choice not constantly being there like it would in true life. So I suppose that what appeals to me the MOST about it is the strong degree of freedom to choose out of anyone that arrives in the show, which over time actually offers them likely more new people than they would be meeting and getting to know out on their own away from the show. Plus, they play a lot of games, most of them being pretty interesting and fun types of games both for them and for us to watch. They're not difficult ones to watch like the torturous types of challenges that I've happened to spot briefly at times on shows like "Big Brother". They're usually fun for everyone. And what I love most about this show, which isn't found elsewhere, is that we get to see couples form as complete strangers with a number of them developing stronger and stronger LOVING relationships for each other...truly LOVING that aren't based on sex, with my believing this because the show's format generally makes it hard for them to have sex with each other, or if they do, they are always drawn into revealing about the experiences, which may not have happened yet on this show due to the constant camera surveillance that includes night vision while they sleep (except perhaps in the shower together for one or two couples, although it isn't clear that they went that far). The shows producers seem to generally pick young adults that are basically family-oriented types of people with mothers and fathers that they've stated that they somewhat feel a need to explain themselves to. So even though if they really wanted to they could have sex with each other, that isn't at all their focus, with their instead seeming to constantly regard it as their duty to strive to get to know each other better to see which of them would seemingly become good boyfriend/girlfriend material for them out in the real world after the show is over. So the producers pick people that are really much more interested in finding long-lasting mates from on this show rather than those who might just be there to try to stay paired up to the end in order to win the prize at the end. In fact, they don't even ever talk about the prize at the end, but they instead seem to think and talk solely about who seems more compatible for them as a match. So it is these unique and nice and truly-romantic qualities to this particular show that are the ONLY things that really make me like it. So I just wanted to let everyone know that this isn't really a typical type of low-quality, hedonistic, superficial-based show like so many of these dumb Reality shows are out there, but actually has some true substance to it at the heart of it, which--along with its added humor--are the ONLY reasons that I'm drawn to it like I am. And as far as the humor goes, the announcer guy is a very witty and funny guy who notices things about the people in it from unique perspectives that are really great and give an added sense of light fun to the whole show. So all in all, I hope that you guys can see why I make an exception for this show compared to so much of the other junk that's out there. And the fact that it's on almost every day makes it therefore become a rather happy and cheerful addiction most of the time. It is NOT at all a soap-opera type of show because the focus is on real people working things out to become constantly happier within their lives...their constantly learning new things about both each other and themselves in these regards along the way.    :)

[softyoongiionly]

Merlot 🍷

REQUEST from Anonymous: “Request for reader x Jimin fluff smut, like best friends to fuck buddies but not even romantic fluff just Jimin being really affectionate and cute with lots of compliments, giggles, and affirmation”

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, smut, best friend! jimin, Friends to lovers Au

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: I have a weakness for best friend Jimin, please send help! 🙃 Yikes I really hope I did this justice.

PS My requests are open, click here to send something my way! Check the Request Rules for more info!

---------------------------------------------------------

Attraction is a funny thing.

Sometimes, it’s obvious and in your face.

Other times…it’s a slow, painful, gut wrenching build-up that could be compared to get a tooth pulled…without novacane.

Sometimes, the object of your attraction is a far away, distant daydream that you can safely admire in the deep recesses of your mind.

Other times, said object is someone close to you, someone you spend all of your time with, someone, you should definitely not be attracted to.

Unfortunately for you, you check the second box, in both cases.

Because you see, the object of your affection was none other than, your best friend Jimin.

Smiley, angelic, ethereal Jimin.

Seriously, you were convinced he was some sort of malevolent species of Fairy that was sent specifically to torture you.

The two of you met your sophomore year of high school and, had bonded over many nights of you sneaking out of the house and, Jimin sneaking liquor out of his parent’s cabinet.

During college, Jimin went wild and, basically spent every weekend dominating the frat party scene and, hooking up with more people than you cared to count. He always talked about finding someone to settle down with but, his actions proved that he wasn’t interested in committing anytime soon. The two of you had a lot of chemistry but, other than making out a few times, nothing further had ever developed.

So, you sort of gave up on the idea of you and Jimin being together. You liked him yes but, your pesky attraction towards Jimin wasn’t worth risking your friendship over.

Right?

——————————————————————————

It was Wednesday night and, you had just pulled into your driveway. Your day had been long and, uneventful so, you were looking forward to shedding your work clothes and, relaxing.

JIMIN: are you free tonight?

JIMIN: I miss u >_<

The buzzing from within your dress pocket (yes, your dress has pockets, you’re no amateur) alerts you of Jimin’s messages and, your mouth seems to have a mind of its own as it’s immediately turning up in a smile. You hadn’t seen Jimin in a few weeks as the two of you had schedules that never seemed to line up.

YOU: I might be free...

YOU: what did you have in mind?

His chat bubble lights up momentarily before, his instant reply comes through.

JIMIN: c’mon jagi, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about our tradition, it hasn’t been that long...

The pet name shouldn’t send a butterfly careening in your stomach but, it does and, you have to take a deep breath before, typing your reply.

YOU: how could you suggest such a thing?

YOU: I would never forget our movie nights. They’re iconic.

You and Jimin used to have a movie night every week for years, the tradition only faltered during finals and holidays. Although, post graduation world was a little different and, since the two of you had started new jobs, it had been about a month or so since your last one.

JIMIN: good. I’ll be over in 20.

JIMIN: wear something sexy for me 😉

Your eyes roll at his response and, you desperately try to ignore the stirring in your stomach. Jimin was a rotten flirt and, you had learned over your years of friendship with him, not to take his comments seriously.

Jimin arrives 45 minutes later as expected because, Jimin being on time is like Halley’s Comet: occurring once every 75 years. You, of course, ignored his request for you to wear something sexy and, opted instead, for a black pair of pajama shorts and, a fuzzy grey sweater. You thought about wearing some granny panties too, just to spite him but, decided against underwear all together. Catching up takes quite a while as the two of you have quite a lot of opinions about your new jobs.

Eventually however, you both end up cuddled up on your couch with a bad romantic comedy playing on your flat screen. Jimin always manages to worm his way into your grip and, he’s currently laying between your legs, black hair against splayed out against the material of your sweater.

He was letting it grow out...

"You listened...” Jimin murmurs, cheek against your stomach, a wry smile playing on his mouth.

With a furrowed brow, you glance down at him, “What do you mean?”

“I told you to wear something sexy for me...” As Jimin speaks, you notice his tone: lower and slower than usual, not exactly Park Smiley Jimin’s style. He trails one finger up your thigh then and, if his voice wasn’t doing something to you, his touch certainly was.

You snort, still staring down at him, “I’m glad my 6 year old pajama shorts are doing it for you...”

Jimin giggles, finger still trailing up your thigh, lingering at the cuff of your shorts, “They are...”

“I think that’s the Merlot talking...” You giggle, feeling slightly buzzed yourself because, the two of you had gone through quite a few glasses whilst you were catching up. Jimin just smirks, his hooded eyes glancing up at you before, rolling over onto his stomach, his chin now resting on the hem of your shorts.

“You’re really fucking pretty when you laugh you know that?” Jimin raises his brows at his question and, if it wasn’t for the slight amount of alcohol flowing through your veins, you would have been freaking out at his compliment.

Instead, for once, you play along.

“You’re plastered...” You giggle again, swiping a thumb over his pillowy lips, pink and swollen, almost asking to be kissed. As your thumb comes over his mouth, he opens it suddenly, sharp teeth catch the tip of it, holding your thumb in place.

“I’m really not...”

Your breath catches in your throat slightly as you stare down at him. Jimin was a rotten flirt yes but, this went beyond his usual antics.

“What’s gotten into you tonight?” You breathe, not moving your thumb from his mouth, feeling his warm breath against it.

“I’ve just been thinking...” He’s whispering now, saliva moistening the end of your thumb as he pulls off of it, a playful smile on his lips.

“About?”

“It’d be really good if we fucked...”

The butterflies are in full fucking chaos in your stomach right now and, if your heart wasn’t lodging itself into your throat, you would have doubted whether or not it was still beating.

“Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?”

But you play along because, it’s Jimin and, he’s notorious for flustering you but, you weren’t gonna back down, not this time.

“I mean, it’s obvious isn’t it?” He’s smirking down, hands coming up to assist him in kneeling between your knees, your legs spreading wider to accommodate him. “We’re so close...we know exactly what the other person likes...I bet I could make you cum pretty hard...”

Your breath is picking up slightly as Jimin’s hands come up to rest on either of your knees, your shorts likely growing damp from the words he spoke.

“I could make you cum really hard too, I’ve heard my pussy’s pretty tight...”

Jimin’s eyes widen slightly before, he regains his composure, a giggle breaking past his lips as he nods, his hands sliding down your inner thighs as he does.

“I really wanna fuck you...I’ve wanted to fuck you for a long time...” He confesses, zero shame in his tone, his eyes holding quite a bit of mischief but, there’s something else that’s swimming in them that you can’t quite pinpoint.

The truth is, you’ve wanted Jimin for so long. You couldn’t wait anymore, not when we was literally and explicitly stating that he felt the same way.

“Me too...” You breath, hips raising slightly as his hands get closer and closer to the wetness beneath your shorts. “You should do it...you should fuck me...”

A manic giggle escapes his lips, as he licks over them, feeling pretty delirious with desire. He nods, his fingers tucking in on either side of your shorts before glancing up at you, “You’re gonna moan real pretty for me right? Give me something to cum for?”

His words go straight to your clit which must swollen beyond belief. You smirk up at him, licking over your lips, your hips lifting to allow him to pull your shorts down.

“We’ll see...”

Fire flashes through his eyes for a moment before he chuckles darkly, ripping your shorts down your legs suddenly. The movement, though expected, causes you to gasp, your nipples hardening as the cool air hits your wet cunt.

“Wow, jagi you’re so sweet...leaving your panties off for me and everything...” He giggles, ridding himself of his jeans, his dick springing from them, pink and swollen, matching his lips perfectly.

Your mouth practically waters at the sight of him and, being the self-proclaimed attention whore, he notices.

“I’m gonna fuck you now jagi...and it’s gonna make your pretty pussy feel really good for me ok?” His tone his sweet but, you know he’s taunting you, he wants to see you fall apart, “and then...you’re gonna cum nice and hard all over my dick...”

Before you can deliver the sarcastic comment that’s been brewing in your throat, Jimin pushes into you without warning, his dick swelling slightly as he feels you for the first time.

“oh my god...” He groans out, his demeanor faltering slightly as he nods, another delirous giggle escaping his lips as he looks up at you, “How the fuck did you get a pussy this good hm?”

Your breathing further increases as he begins rocking in and out of you, his hips steadily increasing as he leans down to kiss at your mouth.

“Luck of the draw I guess...” You giggle against his lips, indulging in the sweetness of him as the two of you rapidly start chasing your highs.

“I’m literally gonna cum already...this wasn’t supposed to happen but, fuck jagi...your pussy is...” He whimpers, his playful demeanor ebbing and flowing as he continues to fuck into you, his eyes black at this point, hands exploring every inch of your skin he can find.

“My pussy is what?” You whisper in his ear, smirking, out of your mind with desire as your hips rock against his.

“It’s fucking gold...I’m...I’m gonna cum fuck...I’m actually gonna cum already...” He laughs in disbelief, his thumb frantically moving to your clit, rubbing tenderly against the swollen nerves to aid you in your release “Will you cum on me? Please? I wanna make you cum...”

You giggle at his eagerness, nodding back, the sensation in your stomach moving quickly to your pussy, the overwhelming pleasure taking over your senses.

“Jimin...I’m gonna...” You moan, eyes wide and desperate as you stare up at him and he smirks, nodding frantically as he continues to rub you, his hips never faltering.

“Let me see you cum pretty girl, let me see how pretty my girl is when she cums...”

His words, his touch, everything about him was too much...

You feel yourself pushed over the edge, dragging Jimin along with you, his dick pulsing continuously as he empties himself inside of you.

He shivers as his orgasm racks his body, his hands squeezing your hips as his pace turns sloppy. His beautiful when he cums, his head thrown back, his eyes clenched shut, his toned stomach spasming as he gives you everything he has.

“Oh my fucking god...” He whines as he slumps over onto you, his wild heartbeat matching your own.

The two of you lay there for a moment before you finally speak, breaking the silence.

“Well...I can effectively say our friendship is ruined...” You whisper, smiling playfully

He giggles, pressing a kiss against your chest, “Eh, we weren’t that close anyway...”

Attraction...it’s a funny thing

[arthurjdrake]

TIMING: Simultaneously with the finale chatzy. LOCATION: Arthur’s House PARTIES: Arthur & @humanmoodring SUMMARY: Nadia and Arthur finally have a heart to heart about the ghost that continues to haunt her memories and discuss the healing possibility that help from others might lend with ZERO interruptions.

TW: Vomit, Descriptions of injury & Blood

With Nadia coming over for a meal and general catch-up Arthur had taken the time to speak to Elena (as best as he could converse with the ghost) about staying upstairs if possible. She hadn’t seemed too happy if the message on his fridge was anything to go by, but judging by the lack of interference he had to his cooking he figured he’d convinced her well enough for the time being. The food was just in the oven - chicken parmigiana wrapped with parma ham, smothered in a homemade tomato sauce and mozzarella with a side of jersey salad and creamy mashed potatoes. He’d also gotten out a bottle of red to share, keenly aware of the fact they had also talked about discussing her mysterious history. Life had taught him one thing, and that was such talks were often helped along with the fortification of a good drink. He was just grabbing the plates out of the cupboard when the doorbell rang, hurrying through the house he pulled the door open with a smile. “Hey there, come in, come in” he ushered stepping back “not too tricky to find me I hope?”

The first thing Nadia noticed when she pulled up to Arthur’s house was that it was really fucking nice. Not in, like, an ostentatious way, but still impressive. She let out a low whistle as she got out of her truck and brushed off the front of her sweater a bit nervously, the material soft and comforting and nice even if the weather was getting pretty warm. Sweaters always seemed like an extra layer of protection to Nadia, and she felt like she needed it. Not because she thought Arthur was going to judge her harshly; she didn’t think that at all. But she’d never had this conversation in person. Not really. However, she wanted to tell Arthur in person. After everything he’d done for her, he deserved it. More than, really. In person was a bit more vulnerable, though, forcing her to deal with emotions, her own emotions, when writing allowed her to kind of distance herself from that. Still, she needed to do this. She smiled at Arthur as he let her in. “Not tricky at all. Nice house, by the way.” She looked around at the open space, relaxing a bit. It suited him, warm and inviting just as he’d been for as long as she’d known him. She shot him a look of concern. “How are you feeling, by the way? All healed up?”

Arthur could understand the use of clothes to help present the appearance and persona you wanted the world to believe and see you for. People, regardless of how good or non-judgemental they claimed to be, all formed first impressions by sight even if it was subconscious. Unlike the more formal appearance he presented at work, typically opting for suits and far more formal attire here in the space of his his home Arthur’s attire was by far more casual. A white tri-blend tee layered under a black and white flannel check shirt with the sleeves folded up above the elbow left intricately monochrome inked (and typically covered) arms free to play host. “Thanks,” he grinned warmly, “not bad isn’t it? Here, take your shoes off… I’ve got food on.” Though the moment of concern softened his grin to a smile, naturally inclined to settle other people’s concerns with words or general physical affection he reached out touching her elbow briefly though the heat of his skin always came as a shock to most people considering his body temperature averaged around 120°F. “All fixed and in working order, promise. Come on, wine and food that I hope you won’t judge too harshly considering your mum’s standards, yeah?”

It was nice to hang out with Arthur in a more laid back setting. Not that working stopped him and Nadia from teasing each other, but there was still always the added factor of them making sure to spend time researching. But the relaxing atmosphere was helping her considerably. It was cool to see Arthur’s tattoos, to see him as a young man and not just a wise, immortal being. This could almost be considered normal, if he wasn’t actually a wise, immortal being and she wasn’t here to tell him about her life. They were just two colleagues, two friends, eating dinner and catching up after a series of hectic weeks. “It’s fantastic, Arthur. And it suits you, too.” She unlaced her boots and sat them neatly near the front door before following him to the kitchen. Arthur’s touch was warm, hot, really, but she didn’t mind. She never felt warm anymore, hadn’t much since she woke up, so the heat was nice. “I’m glad you’re doing better.” Nadia followed him to the kitchen, where the food he’d prepared already smelled wonderful and, she had no doubt, would give her ma a run for her money. “Dude, I’m sure it’s gonna be fantastic. Especially if those cheesecakes were any indication.”

There were certain boundaries that had to be maintained at work, but it was nice to just step back and relax. “A part of me wonders if it’s too big… But in comparison to where I was it’s so much better,” Arthur explained as he wandered through to the kitchen while Nadia unlaced her boots. “It’s not really surprising, I patch up fast even from the worst of states,” there was mild humour in his tone even if the topic wasn’t the most cheery. By the time she joined him he was already pouring a couple of glasses of wine out, setting them on the counter as he went to plate up the salad. “Maybe, can’t say I’ve ever had to compete with someone’s mother when it comes to cooking though.” He grabbed a tea towel, folding it over and pulled open the oven to grab the baking tray out “where did you grow up? What was your life like before… All this supernatural shit? Can’t say I’ve ever asked.” After all, tonight was about getting to know one another.

It was a lot of space, probably too much for Nadia, but that didn’t make it any less homey. Touches of Arthur were all throughout the place as she looked around, eventually wandering to the kitchen. Even though she trusted his words, she looked him over closely. She couldn’t see any noticeable signs of damage. She gave a nod, pleased that he was better. “Those tears really do work wonders, huh?” She took a glass of wine and watched as he dealt with the food, wondering if she should help. “I mean, you stand a fighting chance. It’s been years since I’ve eaten my mom’s cooking.” God, could she even remember what it tasted like? “Do you need any help?” She could probably help him get plates and utensils if he showed her where everything was. As for her past… “I mean, the here and now’s always been more vital, dude.” She felt awkward; after months of giving the bear minimum, she was now having to figure out how to share about her life again. Like she’d ever done it before. Even back before White Crest, before the possession, she’d been shit at this kind of thing. “Uh, I’m from Phoenix, Arizona.” She smiled a bit. “Sometimes it’s kind of funny that I work for an actual phoenix. Can’t really lose my roots, I guess. But, uh, my dad’s Cuban. My mom’s Italian-American, from Chicago. How the fuck they ended up in the fucking desert of all places is anyone’s guess, but…” That was very little about her, about her life. “I mean,” she laughed drily, “my life kind of sucked before I woke up here. I was a lonely kid, a lonely teenager, only one real friend in college. Then, she left, and I went a little wild for awhile and,” and she got possessed, but the words were thick in her mouth. She took a drink. “Yeah. But what about you? What’s this life been like?”

“Bring you back from the brink of death more or less, last I heard they’re one of the rarest commodities on the black market… Not easy to get your hands on them. Phoenixes are rare to come upon and even harder to pick out of a crowd.” Arthur didn’t mind, it wasn’t the most complex meal but it tasted good and that was what mattered. “I think I’m alright here, could you grab the knives and forks out that draw there? Second one down,” he pointed out a drawer not far from where she was. “True, but it’s nice to know where people come from,” he countered lightly not in a prying sense but a simple sharing of opinion from someone that liked to get to know others. “Huh, go figure,” he laughed quietly at the irony but grew quiet as Nadia spoke.

Taking the plates over to the table nearby and setting them down he nodded along, but his expression grew sympathetic as she trailed off and he didn’t press for the time being. He settled in his chair, contemplating the answer “it’s been… I’ve been lucky, Mercy’s always tried her best whenever I’ve had to be rehomed… Always tried to put me with good people” it didn’t always work, but she tried and that’s what counted in his mind. “I was adopted by a couple from London, stayed there most of my life - school, the works. I was an only child which had its perks but I think I would’ve liked a sibling... My parents had… big expectations for me, and it was hard not to cave under the effort of trying to carry and live up to them.”

He took a sip of wine seeming to grow quieter, “I’m thankful for every opportunity they gave me but it was hard - coming to terms and trying to understand what I was without anyone there to help me understand…” he rested his chin on his hand “thought I was losing my mind when I started getting flashes of all these past lifetimes. Doctors couldn’t figure out what was going on. Did every scan under the sun… Eventually I knew better than to mention it… Until it eventually came back what I was.” It hadn’t been the easiest journey but he’d gotten there. “Anyway, how’s the food?”

“You need to keep safe, then.” Hearing that his tears were incredibly rare and valuable did nothing to help soothe Nadia. Worrying about Arthur getting attacked because of what he was added itself to her list of things to look out for when it came to her friends. She grabbed the silverware and helped him set the table before they sat down, a lot on her mind.

She smiled a bit as he mentioned how Mercy made sure he was well taken care of. “She’s a good friend, I can tell.” She remembered the older woman’s request, trying to think about how to best go about asking him what he wanted for his birthday. She’d figure out how to do that later. At the mention of him being an only child, she nodded. “I was an only kid, too. I was enough trouble on my own, and I was the kind of kid that wanted-- well, needed to be alone sometimes. Both my parents came from big families, though. I’m sure they wanted more kids, but I was a handful, I guess.”

She took a bite of food, savoring the flavor of it. She couldn’t remember her mother’s cooking. She couldn’t. It was a bit depressing to think about, but she figured that if Arthur’s cooking wasn’t just as good, it was a close fucking second. There were so many things from her life in Phoenix that she was beginning to realize that she was forgetting. The taste of her ma’s cooking, the type of beer her father drank, the color of Brooke’s eyes. She knew what it was like to get flashes of things that she didn’t understand, even if it was for different reasons that Arthur. “I think you’ve done a good job with getting from where you were to where you are now, for what it’s worth,” she told him. She took another bite of food. After she swallowed, she said, “It’s fucking fantastic.”

“I’m as safe as houses, barely anyone knows about me - besides you, Evelyn and Mercy… That’s it. And it’s how I’d prefer to keep it.” Arthur often got frustrated when people treated him with kid gloves because of his physicality, and it occasionally led to random acts of attempted heroics to try and prove them otherwise - which almost always ended up proving their point that he was extremely breakable. “Plus,” he added as an afterthought, “out of most supernaturals phoenixes are usually the ones that blend in the easiest… Except for the pinfeathers. But other than that we don’t have weird feeding habits, we don’t prey on people… We just… live.”

“She is. A pain in the ass at times, but I wouldn’t trade her for anything,” he admitted fondly. It was nice to be able to relate to someone in a way, “it’s weird, I get flashes of my first life - fragments really, but I had loads of siblings and I hated it… Yet now I hate not having them,” he supposed it just went to show what you took for granted at times. “Ah, yeah I was always too worried to act up as a kid… Felt like every moment had to count for something or else I’d somehow failed…” not the healthiest mentality for a child to have, but looking back he could recognise his faults. “But I get that - wanting to be alone, silence is good when you just need to recharge but sometimes you need people to balance that…”

He ate a few mouthfuls, a comfortable silence settling over the room between the clinks of cutlery and occasional sip of wine. Nadia’s remark broke the silence and he gave her a smile, “you too… You’re a long way from home,” it was an idle remark, made in passing contemplation of the little information she’d given “ life isn’t easy, but we all make the best of what we have don’t we? It’s what we do with it that truly counts for anything.” His smile broadened at the compliment, “if that’s the verdict on the dinner no clue what you’ll say about dessert.”

“That’s good,” Nadia said, glad she’d been cautious when talking to people about Arthur. If anyone guessed anything about him, it was probably that the man might be a spellcaster of some kind. She really had thought he was, like, a wizard or something after the way he’d healed after their first meeting, with his more bookish tendencies, and, as he’d mentioned, his mostly human facade. “You blend in pretty well. I don’t think I’d have guessed what you were if you hadn’t told me. I mean, I knew a bit about phoenixes in mythology, but I don’t know if I’d have figured you out.”

She smiled at the way he fondly talked of Mercy, reminding her of the way the woman referred to him online. They cared about each other, and it was nice to see. Nice to be able to feel, though it was muted and muddled. “I mean, you two have known each other for forever. Literally.” What was it like to know someone for that long? She couldn’t imagine. She also couldn’t imagine siblings. “I think it was for the best that I grew up alone.” Though, who knew? Maybe she’d be better at the emotions thing. Or, possibly, she’d be worse. “I didn’t act up too much. I kept my grades up and was usually quiet, even though I listened to the wrong kinds of music. My father and I got frustrated with each other a lot. He was always mad, and I always wanted to know why. When I couldn’t figure it out, I gave him reasons.” She took a drink, feeling like she was talking too much. She was talking too much, and about the wrong things. This wasn’t why she’d come here.

Nadia was a long way from home. She was as far away from home as she could be while still being in the same country. She missed home sometimes so much that it ached. But she knew she couldn’t go back. The few people that had she’d known and loved didn’t feel the same about her. “We’re both a long way from home,” she said quietly. She raised her glass to him. “You’re right. We’ve just got to make the best of it. Personally, I’m glad to be here. In spite of how I got here.” She grinned. “If deserts better than dinner, you might be stuck with me. Sorry, but you’ve provided me with a job, good conversation, and stellar food. I’d be a fool to leave.”

“That’s how I’d prefer it to be, most people make the mistake… I’m happy to let them believe it.” If not for certain other traits it was vaguely passable and Arthur would happily stick to that story because it meant keeping him off people’s radar for what he truly was.

“Yeah, kind of crazy when you think about it. She’s barely ever missed a birthday or like-- anything. Even though I can’t even remember my original one now.” It was part of what kept them both sane and in touch with the world around them. “Though doesn’t mean she doesn’t drive me mad at times,” he huffed, but regardless the words were spoken fondly. “You think?” who could say what anyone would be, circumstances and situations played a role in affecting how a person turned out. It didn’t do to dwell for long, but it was a curious thing to contemplate occasionally. Hearing Nadia explain her dynamic with her father caused him to cock his head a little, “it’s hard. Parents are just trying their best to stop kids falling into the same traps they did… But often I find in trying to avoid them they often help steer a path directly towards them anyway. Sometimes you just need to know when to be upfront.”

“True…” he raised his own cup marginally, “to finding new homes” and new families. Though that was left unsaid. “Yeah? I’m still not sure I’m sold - like on one hand it’s great to be in a place with so many other supernaturals but the risk of death or serious maiming is a big damper on truly enjoying it. You know?” He finished up his plate, looking humoured by the remark “well, offer’s always there if you need a place to crash and there’s always food to spare in my kitchen.” Gathering the plates up he headed back to the kitchen, dropping them in the dishwasher before returning with a plate of coconut and passion fruit slices. “Come on,” he waved her over from the dining table towards the lounge and the vivarium situated to one side of it where his tortoises roamed. “Get comfy.” Then they could sit down and talk.

“It’s certainly a good way to protect yourself,” Nadia said, still thinking about what Arthur mentioned about his tears being valuable on supernatural black markets. She dreaded to think what would happen to her friend if someone captured him to use just to make a few dollars.

“Birthdays are pretty important,” she said with a grin. “Speaking of birthdays, when’s yours?” She knew the answer thanks to Mercy, but it’d be best to hold off on that information. She still needed to figure out what he might possibly want, both for the valkyrie and for herself. She wanted to get him something nice, too. Even if she went with what she told Mercy and went the more homemade route. Time, effort, those were the kinds of gifts she’d appreciated when she actually gave a damn about that kind of thing. Birthdays hadn’t been a big deal for Nadia in years, though, even before the possession. These days, she’d appreciated being about to not think about it, drink a little by herself, and then not sleep. It’d been an average day of a birthday, and that had been what she wanted. She appreciated Arthur’s approach to talking about parents. It gave her a good out. “Yeah, everybody says they want better for their kids. Sometimes they just, like, go about it the wrong way, I guess.”

That was the kind of toast she could get behind. She took a drink and laughed, thinking about all the shit she’d been through during the last few months. “Oh, White Crest is hell. Like, probably literally? I was getting sent giant pallets of salt by a company run by demons. But I’ve felt more comfortable here than I have anywhere else, even back home. I have a job that I’ve always wanted and more friends than I’ve ever had in my life.” She grinned as they moved to the sitting area. “I might not crash on your couch, but don’t tempt me to come raid your fridge, Arthur.” She got situated, looking around for the tortoises she’d heard so much about. She was putting off the inevitable, really.

“It’s worked this long, though so far as the hunters I’ve met in town… Most don’t really seem all that good at their jobs, which… isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” Arthur remarked thoughtfully. “But yeah, it’s worked so far so… I’ll keep on that track.”

“Mine? Depends, the original - I can’t remember but apparently it was sometime in winter but in this lifetime it’s around the twentieth of June… That’s the day I’ve celebrated though it might be out by a little bit.” Considering there was a period between him coming back and Mercy finding a family to place him with but more or less that was the way it had always been. It worked well enough so no point trying to fix what wasn’t broken. “How about you?” It’d be useful to know for himself, so he could try to arrange something for Nadia when hers did come around. It seemed like the right and good thing to do after all.

“It’s been referred to as a hellmouth in most of the texts I’ve read soooo… take that one how you will” he huffed, this truly was one of the most weird and interesting places he’d ever lived in his life. “By demons? You didn’t sign any contracts right?” He shifted as he settled on the sofa, folding a leg up comfortably. “You’re welcome to it, always spare food. I’ve got four spare rooms going upstairs as well if you ever do feel the need especially to escape those uh, screams…” But that was beside the point, he took a bite of the dessert square looking over at her. “So… You don’t like ghosts?” it was a gentle prod to hopefully lay the path for the true conversation this night was meant to be about.

Snorting a bit, Nadia thought about the hunters that she personally knew. Alain and Kaden were both good guys, even if she didn’t believe in the same things as them. She couldn’t imagine them hunting Arthur down just to sell his tears on the black market. But, then again, she didn’t really know them while they were hunting. Better safe than sorry. “Yeah, that’s smart.”

She nodded. “Twentieth’s pretty soon,” she said with a smile. “You know I’m gonna get you something, right? You could help a gal out, you know, give her a hint, maybe?” She twirled the stem of her wine glass slowly. “I mean, it was back in February. The twenty-third. I didn’t really celebrate.” She shrugged. “Wasn’t that big of a deal.” All things considered, it had been an alright birthday. It had just been a regular Sunday, which is exactly what she’d wanted.

“Hellmouth is fuckng right,” Nadia muttered. “No, no contract. Someone signed me up for a subscription. It’s been, like, cancelled now, though.” She relaxed a little, taking another drink of her wine. “I’ll definitely keep it in mind. My apartment’s mostly scream free… Mostly.” She grimaced a bit, thinking about the essential oils subscription and what a bitch that was going to be. “On second thought, I might be over here, like, once a month. Just when she gets a package delivered.” She picked up a desert square of her own, but, with his question, she wasn’t feeling too hungry. Nadia gave a slight laugh. “Not really ghosts so much as one in particular. But they,” she paused, “scare me.” She ran a hand through her hair. “One of them kind of, like, ruined my life, so.”

“It is,” Arthur agreed to the date being near, but really what did it matter? It was just another year and another birthday. “Honestly, I don’t have much I want. I’d be happy with anything you got me you know? The sentiment is more what matters… Really I’d be happier with like… people coming over, having a meal and just a nice ordinary night you know? Pizza and beers, maybe a barbecue - I haven’t had a good barbecue in ages.”

“Signed you up for a subscription? What are they? Fae? They love their deals, almost as much as spellcasters do” he groaned as he leaned back into the sofa pulling one leg up and tucking it comfortably under the other that still hung off the cushions. “Mostly? She hasn’t done anything recently has she?” he paused gauging Nadia’s reaction to his next question “I’m guessing you know about her… supernatural thing right?”

But talk turned to ghosts, and Arthur tried to be tactful in his line of conversation. Though there was no easy way to let a conversation like this come about. “Right… I got the impression… Do you… I know it’s hard for you,” he started sympathetically, “do you want to walk me through what happened?”

Well, that was absolutely no help to Nadia for Mercy, but it did solidify her thought that he’d probably enjoy something with thought and effort over something expensive. “You know, a barbecue doesn’t sound like a bad idea. I still have leftover fireworks from a thing,” she said. Which, she’d told Erin it’d be for a barbecue. This would certainly make it less of a lie.

She laughed a little bit. “She thought she was doing something nice. It’s the thought that counts. And, like, at least I can look back on it and laugh, now.” Of course, she wasn’t laughing any time Regan’s subscriptions came in and the screaming started, but still. “I mean, she can get a bit… loud sometimes,” she said, wincing a bit. “Yeah, I know about her thing. It’s the worst kept secret ever.” She couldn’t say what Regan’s thing was since she was still bound by Deirdre’s promise, but she figured, if Arthur was mentioning screaming, then he knew. Really, the fact that Arthur knew wasn’t even surprising. At the rate things were going, everyone was going to know about Regan before Regan even knew.

Nadia took a bite of her desert square. It was good, but it still stuck to her throat. She swallowed tightly. “Yeah, yeah, I can walk you-- I mean, there’s really not too much to tell.” She laughed breathlessly, humorlessly. “I was, like, a junior in college. Everything was shitty. We-- me, my parents, my single friend-- we thought I was depressed, which, I mean. But I was getting some bad blackouts, sometimes for days at a time. My friend, she-- I mean, she left. Whatever.” She took a long sip of wine. “It got worse, nothing was helping. I’d wake up and not know where I was, who I was, what I was doing.” She could see herself in a mirror, covered in blood. Whose blood? Whose? “Then, I don’t know. I woke up in White Crest in late December a few months ago,” she said quietly. “Some kids had helped me out. A human soul’s worth thirty thousand dollars, in case you were wondering.”

“A thing?” Arthur inquired curiously, though considering how often fireworks were used for things in America it wasn’t all that surprising of a thing to hear someone say. “Well, if you want to come along you’re more than welcome to.”

“I guess so, though salt seems like an interesting thing to be signed up for…” Useful for ghosts amongst other supernatural things he supposed but he could see how bulk orders could soon stack up to be infuriating. “It is, Kaden accidentally told me but I wasn’t planning on mentioning it to her considering how she gets whenever that sort of stuff comes up in conversation.” It wasn’t surprising how entrenched people could become when the foundations of their very reality of life seemed to be under threat. In a way, Arthur felt bad for her but equally it was important to recognise the danger her denial posed to those that were around her. “The issue is, the longer her denial goes on the more harm she poses to those around her - including you, which unfortunately doesn’t sit very well with me.”

As Nadia spoke, Arthur remained quiet occasionally taking a sip of wine but otherwise he left her to tell her tale not wishing to interrupt her already staccato rhythm. “Do you know anything about the ghost that possessed you?” from the fragments of an overall tale it was clear enough to him that was what had happened. He set his glass aside, sitting forwards and reaching for Nadia’s hand slowly. A quiet show of support and reminder that he would always stand in her corner no matter what. Though he knew in a town like White Crest it wasn’t easy to say she wasn’t at risk again? “Has anything else like that happened while you’ve been here?” he asked, rubbing his thumb in a small soothing arc over her hand.

“I ended up not using them in the way I thought,” Nadia said breezily, not bothering to explain what exactly her “thing” was. Probably best to not mention blowing up the mime restaurant only to end up with the town invaded by mimes for weeks. Especially when those mimes ended up landing him in the hospital.

“Yeah, you ask a neighbor to borrow some salt one time, and you’re stuck with a reputation.” Not an unjustifiable one, though. Nadia kept salt lines up around her house for months, even after the banishment had been put up. She laughed a bit, thinking about just how Arthur bringing up Regan’s banshee-ness would go in a conversation. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best. But she’s really not dangerous. Not intentionally. And as long as I can predict when something might upset her,” she flinched a bit, “which, okay, not the easiest, but she’d only really hurt me in person, and I can-- I’m a-- I feel people’s emotions-- empath, so if she starts getting upset or whatever I can kind of prepare for things.”

This time, when Nadia laughed, it was sharp and insincere. “She was a fucking criminal,and she made me a criminal, and she ruined my life for six fucking years.” She sagged a bit under Arthur’s touch, one knee pulled up to her chest and her head resting on it. She didn’t know why it was both relieving and exhausting to tell him this. Maybe it was because it was in person, and his comfort felt real, and having him be here and listen to her meant so much. She should tell him the truth, that she was scared about getting possessed again, that it’d happened more than once, that she knew her ghost hadn’t given up quite yet. Instead, she gave him a watery smile. “It’s been a bit touch and go for a while, but I should be in the clear, ghost wise, now. Just lingering shit, you know? I’m sure your ghost is great.”

“Well, I love fireworks and anything fire related so you’re welcome to bring them along if you want. We can annoy the neighbours with them.”

Arthur laughed at the sentiment, it was kind of funny to hear her say that out loud and the idea of these ridiculously cursed subscriptions was a little bit funny. “Who else got one? I’m curious to know what hellish gifts people were getting from this company.” Nadia did her best to dissuade his concerns, unfortunately, he was schooled enough to know that glass wasn’t the only thing a sound that loud could damage. “Do you know how sound breaks things?” it was a question of genuine curiosity but he explained anyway slipping easily into his more studious nature “it makes things vibrate. The pitch influences how fast those things vibrate and if it’s high and sustained enough things break because of that….” He paused, Nadia might have faith in Regan’s control but Arthur wasn’t quite so certain on the topic “the control is what concerns me… From the stuff I’ve seen people posting online about damage and stuff she doesn’t have it. And depending on what kind of decibels those screams are hitting… If someone’s stood too close they could be seriously injured and they could potentially die. There’s not much that can prepare you for death - and that’s me speaking from experience.” Perhaps it was a solemn subject to touch on, but he wanted to make sure Nadia was truly prepared for the potential consequences of continuing to associate with Regan. Perhaps it was unfair, Arthur knew it wasn’t her fault but Nadia’s well-being was of more paramount concern to him presently.

As she sagged, Arthur continued to hold her hand rubbing the calming pattern into her skin. “What is it you’re afraid people will judge you for?” she’d mentioned it online before they’d arranged this, but Arthur wanted to try and help her work through some of her concerns regarding the things that ahd happened to her - which in his opinion were far beyond her own control. But admitting that was hard and scary in itself. In the kitchen his phone buzzed, but he ignored it. He’d call whoever was phoning back later. He didn’t prompt her to look up from where she’d rested her head, curling into herself in a protective fashion he’d seen countless times across his lifetimes. “Is that what haunts you at night?” the question was softly spoken, “or is it the fear of what this ghost would do if they did come back?” It could very well be both, despite their similarities they were distinctly separate. One concerned the past, and one the future. Her watery smile earned a sympathetic look, and he shifted to wrap his arms around her pulling her in for a tight embrace of comforting warmth that radiated from him. “I get that, but there’s no need to be ashamed of being scared… Possession is… it’s a violation of your person. Your very rights. Being scared of having your control taken away is one of the most valid fears anyone could ever experience - and I’m sure this is something you already know, but it takes time to adjust to life after experiencing something like that…” He pulled back a fraction looking at her with a steady and intense look, “but-- I want you to know if you ever need me. I’m here and I’ll always have your back, no matter the time or how bad you think things are. I’ll always be in your corner. Hm?”

“You know, I don’t know if it was a subscription, but a woman in town was getting sent mayo and bones.” Nadia shivered just thinking about sticking her hands in that fucking mayo, the demon with the goat eyes’ voice in her head. “And you probably saw that Kaden was getting sent large baguettes. That was fun.” She sighed, knowing that what Arthur said about the vibrations was true. Still, she had faith that Regan would figure it out. “I know that her denial is… concerning. But she doesn’t want to hurt people, and I think that’s almost enough to, if not stop the denial, then to at least put her in the frame of mind to accept help. I’m hoping she’ll talk to someone.” She paused, thinking it over. Hanging out with Regan was high risk, high reward. High risk because it could kill her. High reward because she was Nadia’s best friend, and she was easy to spend time with. Besides. Nadia was beginning to enjoy taking risks. “I know she could kill me, but it’s not going to happen. One because that would be such a shitty thing to do to her. Two because I’m going to be careful, I promise. I don’t have a death wish. I’ve got six years to make up for.”

Six years-- almost seven, really-- that she’d never get back. Her relationship with her parents was gone. Even if she could somehow get all the charges against her dropped, it didn’t matter. There was a stain on her now, one that would never go away. She felt it like a ghost, saw it in the mirror every time she passed by. What was she afraid people would judge her for? She was scared they’d see her the way she did late at night when she could do nothing but think. “I’m afraid they won’t-- I’m afraid they’ll just see a criminal or worse. They’ll just see someone to be pitied.” One day, someone was going to look too close and see that something was missing. Maybe the only reason she saw it was because she knew who she was supposed to be before all of this. “I dream about what I did while-- or what I might’ve done. What I could've done.” Everyone died, usually, in her dreams, and she’s left alone all over again. Arthur’s arms around her was the last strike against her resolve. She gripped him tightly, tears in her eyes. “I don’t know who I am, these days,” she said roughly. “But thank you for trusting me and being in my corner.”

“Bones in mayo? Or both separately?” Arthur questioned in mild concern, “see the bones I wouldn’t mind so much… The mayo, eugh” he contorted his face and stuck his tongue out. Definitely not a fan of condiments. The mention of the baguettes made him laugh, “I saw that… Didn’t realise it was Regan’s doing - that’s even better,” he couldn’t help the laugh it was unfortunate but it was kind of funny as a bystander to watch the torment. Even he wasn’t above a good laugh occasionally especially considering the baguettes really didn’t seem like that bad of a thing to receive.

His mood grew a tad more serious “doesn’t want to, doesn't equate to won’t Nadia.” Ultimately, it wasn’t his job nor his position to lecture her or anyone else, but he would advise caution where he felt it was needed. Not that this wasn’t something she had no doubt considered, but he had to at least give himself the peace of mind of saying it out loud. Making sure she heard him and understood his concern for her well-being. “Fine… But it doesn’t mean I don’t think that this isn’t something she needs to come to terms with. Is there no one that can help her with it?”

“Which is understandable,” he said softly, “but sometimes pity, sympathy, compassion - whatever you want to call it from other people isn’t the worst thing in the world. Sometimes it does us a world of good to let someone else feel sorry, step in and help take care of you…” That wasn’t to say it was easy, “taking down those walls that you’ve built if only for a little while will probably help you find some peace and time to recharge.” He squeezed her hands affectionately, “being vulnerable takes a great deal of strength and mental fortitude… To be open to letting other people listen and help and the fact you’re here, that you’re talking about it is a step in the right direction.”

Arthur kept Nadia hugged tight for a long while, pressing her face to his shoulder as he rubbed his other hand over the curve of her spine. “You will. With time, I’m sure you will,” he assured her quietly holding on for a little while longer before he eventually pulled back his hands resting on her shoulders. “I’m proud of you Nadia.”

“Separately,” Nadia said. She pause. “I think? The bones and the mayo were equally bad because they were apparently human bones and had to be examined.” Honestly, after putting her hands in the shit, she planned to never even look at mayo ever again. Laughing along with him, she said, “It’s funny now, and I know she was just being nice, but damn. It was the fucking worse.”

She sighed. “I know. I know. But I trust her not to hurt me. Not intentionally, and I’d never blame her for an accident.” Nadia pinched the bridge between her nose. She didn’t want to keep talking about this. She appreciated Arthur’s words and the fact that he obviously cared for her. It was touching. Still, she was a big girl, even if she didn’t remember six years’ worth of life experiences. She knew how to be cautious, and she could make her own decisions, even if they were fucking stupid sometimes. “It is, and she will, eventually. She’ll get help. It’ll be alright. I believe that.”

Taking in his words was hard, even if Nadia knew they were true. Because she felt all of it—pity, sympathy, compassion— so vividly from other people, and she knew when they were sincere about it, but that didn’t change the way she was. Part of it was the way she was raised: distant parents that wanted to help her but didn’t know how when time after time nothing they did seemed to help. Part of it was also experience: everyone she’d let into her life before left, sometimes cruelly. Countless arguments and phone calls and conversations that led to heartbreak and disappointment weren’t worth it, in the end. She didn’t see her walls as walls; it was more like a suit of armor, and once someone found the flaws and worked their way in, rust was more likely to set in. At that point, armor’s less of a protection and more of a hindrance. She laughed a bit, even though she was crying. She hated the weakness, though she wouldn’t say so. “Being vulnerable sucks major ass, bird boss, but if this is a step in the right direction, then I’m willing to work on it.” Even if it led to more hurt in the end.

They stayed there for a bit, and Nadia allowed the rust to set in. One day, maybe she’d lay her armor down, wouldn’t need it. Maybe in White Crest was different than Phoenix in that way. She was finding comfort and warmth here that she’d never felt before, and that meant something, despite the shit show the place seemed to be. As Arthur leaned back, she wiped her eyes a bit. “Thank you, Arthur.”

As Nadia chose to insist again Arthur fought against the urge to roll his eyes. “Fine,” but it didn’t mean the worry didn’t linger after the fact. But he didn’t want to push too far into that conversation tonight. It wasn’t worth delving into.

Arthur knew his words probably weren’t new. But the lesson of building walls or plating armour plate on top of plate could keep the world and new experiences from ever coming into your life. They could keep you safe and warm but when you waded into waters too deep armour would only weigh you down until you ended up being swept away by the currents. Not to mention their capacity for keeping people at a distance and protecting yourself from hurt was perhaps one of the oldest things he’d seen people do but in the end they had always been left wanting and lonely. That wasn’t something he wanted to see happen to Nadia and if it meant working to keep her safe, to see her through to those better times then he’d happily put the graft in to help where he could. “I know and it might mean down the line you’re opening yourself up to hurt… But you’re opening yourself up to love as well and if there’s one thing I’ve learnt it’s that love is always worth the pain.”

“Ah, least I could do…” he smiled at her fondly, before moving to take his near empty wine-glass. “I think we’re in need for a refill.” With that he got up and headed back to the kitchen but not before ruffling her hair affectionately.

It was mid-pour in the kitchen that it happened. A heat throbbing from the scar on his left palm, the searing pressure as if some invisible force had taken him by the throat as though intent on collapsing it in on itself. He gagged, choking as he felt his air supply cut off, as if it had suddenly been sucked out of the room. The glass and bottle fell, seemingly in slow-motion but in reality it was mere seconds, the crimson swirl glistening preceding the ringing crash of his glass smashing into hundreds of shards on the stone floor. His hands grasp his throat as he staggered, falling as black spots swam across his vision. There was a brief moment of respite, before the pain caused his body to lurch and the cry of pain was stifled into a weak gurgle.

Arthur could never claim to know what it felt like to drown, he’d never been in water for as long as he’d existed. But the shock of icy brackish liquid was instantly debilitating. Strangely, he supposed it was the nearest thing he could imagine to being set on fire, though this was not the familiar warmth but a blistering heat that felt like every one of his cells was being set alight. He gasped for air, but seemingly swallowed only water. Over and over he gasped and gulped greedily, for any hint of oxygen yet the act only served to allow more and more deadly water to be inhaled and swallowed. Hold your breath! He tried fighting for as long as he could until every cell screamed let me breath; his mouth was forced ajar once more gasping again as the phantom water forced its way into his mouth, up his nose and into his bursting lungs.

Tears burned like vinegar as they ran down his cheeks. It hurts. He thought. Why does it hurt so much? Please, please make it stop. Please, I beg of you.

In his last conscious moments, he tried to open his eyes, to see something familiar, but all he saw was the inky darkness of eternal night and a name upon his lips. “Freyja.”

As Nadia sat waiting for Arthur to come back with their wine, she thought about the night’s events, how they went better than she could have expected. Maybe she needed to stop expecting people to hate her for all of this. No one, not a single person she’d talked about this with, blamed her for what happened. She knew, deep down, that she was the victim in the scenario, as much as she hated it. She’d been the one to be possessed, she’d had her life taken from her. She didn’t remember any of the things she’d done, didn’t know how truly awful they were. Still, there was a part of her that expected to be stronger. She had always thought that she could fight off whatever problems came her way. Metaphorically, of course. She wasn’t a big fighter, otherwise. Obviously, the fight had been taken out of her for six years.

She was startled out of her thoughts by the sounds of glass shattering. Nadia jumped up from the couch and rushed into the kitchen, not sure what to expect. Certainly not Arthur, on the ground, water gurgling from his mouth, the corners of them burning from it. “No no no nonono,” she cried out as she ran to him, sliding on her knees a bit as she got close. She wiped away the water from his mouth, the tears from his cheeks. His pain, his fear and confusion, all of it was loud and awful in her head. She couldn’t imagine how bad it must be for him since she knew she didn’t feel everything. As he called out for Freyja, for Mercy, she pulled him into her lap, trying to make him comfortable. “It’s okay, Arthur, it’s okay.”

Closing her eyes, she begged for it to be okay. Because, truthfully, she didn’t know. For several minutes, she did her best to calm him and herself down. Before he passed out, he was acting like he was drowning, but he didn’t keep showing the symptoms once he was asleep. All she could do was offer him comfort, trying to assure him that he was alright. She moved them away from the spilled wine and waited for him to wake up. “Please, please be okay.”

Arthur wasn’t sure how long he was out for, seconds? Minutes? Hours? Time seemed to crawl to a stop as the darkness clouded his vision and a fatal liquid spilled from his mouth; corrosive like acid turning his mouth into a frothing grey mess and cracked his lips until they blistered and bled. His body contorted before it grew still, eyes unseeing and for a moment there was nothing.

He returned to consciousness with a rasping gurgled gasp, flopping over onto his side as he hacked up inky brackish water streaked with blood and spittal. His mouth burned and blearily he could make out someone else in the room with him. But only one thought was on his mind. “Mo-” he tried to say, but the word was cut off by another hacking cough that splattered beads of blood over the floor leaning over on his hands that crunched into the shards of glass on the floor.

“I-- mobile now” he felt faint, as if the world were about to spin away from him again if he moved too fast. But the world hardly mattered if the hollow ache that radiated from the palm of his hand was anything to go by. The lack of familiar warmth and connection from the person invisibly tethered on the other end. He slipped, tripping and catching himself as he blindly searched on the counter for his phone with a trembling hand.

When his fingers latched on, the device was wrenched off the counter and Arthur sank once more to the ground his back pressed into the cabinets. Hands shaking as he saw the missed calls and set about playing the voicemail she’d left. Fresh tears tracked down his face, stabbing the redial button and holding the phone to his ear. “Pickup pickup pickup. Pleasepleaseplease,” there was a strange desperation in the words.

It went to voicemail.

“Fuck!” he spat, jabbing the button again and waiting. Again, and again, and again.

Eventually, on the seventh try Arthur let the dial go through lines of healed skin contrasting to the gruesome maw of his mouth from the connection to Mercy’s death. “Frey? Frey! FUCK Please pick up, pleasepleaseplease. I need you to pick up right now and tell me you’re okay. I felt– it can’t– You didn’t–” he thumped his hand on the ground, blind to the glinting shards that pricked his skin and bled fresh trails of crimson through his fingers. “PICK UP. DON’T YOU DARE! PICK UP RIGHT NOW!” Did it matter he was screaming into the receiver curling over it to make his voice heard wherever she’d gone? Would she hear him then? He pressed the phone harder to his ear, a sob that shook the very foundations of his person working its way up his throat, voice breaking when he spoke after the extended silence. “Please… We only just found each other. I can’t– I can’t lose you now. Please come back, come home. Just one more time… One more time. For me. We’ll make it work. It’ll be different. I promise this time it’ll be different. I’ll be different.” He exhaled, blinking past the tears “I never got to tell you I lo- No. I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you when you come back. Please come back…”

By the end of the call he was left staring in anguish at the photo ID on the call his breath short and sharp, shaking as he ended the call. Too fast. Too much. It was all too much. A trembling hand pressed to his mouth, trying to stifle the pain that settled in his chest as he shook his head against the overwhelming realisation of what had happened.

Yelping as Arthur started coughing and leaned over, Nadia sat back to give the man some space. The blood was concerning, and she didn’t have any time at all to process what was happening as he scrambled for his phone. Mercy, something was wrong with Mercy. She could tell before he made the call, before he started screaming into his phone. When he leaned against the cabinets, she moved closer to him, hoping to comfort him with her presence. She didn’t know what else to do. She really didn’t. So Nadia did what she could. She sat with him. His pain was like nothing she’d ever really felt before, but so was the love that was causing it. God, it was miserable. It felt so miserable, and she could barely process it.

When Arthur started breathing too fast, his words tapering out, she grabbed his hands. “Hey, no, hey!” She made him look away from his phone and towards her. “Hey. I don’t-- I don’t know what’s happening, okay? But it’s-- Mercy can’t die, right? Not easily. Right? So it’s--” Fuck, she didn’t know how to do this. “It’ll be-- She’s gotta be okay. She’s going to be okay.” Nadia really, really hoped so. Mercy, in the short time that she’d known the woman, was probably one of the toughest people out there, and the only thing that could kill her was having her head cut off. There was a brief moment of fear, the thought of Arthur choking because of some weird connection with Mercy that made it to where he couldn’t breathe, but he had seemed like he was drowning, not just suffering from no air.

The tables had turned, and Nadia found herself wrapping Arthur in a hug instead of the other way around. She couldn’t affect other people’s emotions; only feel them. But she tried to put as much comfort out as she could, hoping that somehow it would help. Hoping that, somehow, Mercy was okay. “It’ll be alright, Arthur. It will. I promise.”