#she leaps into things and explains away concerns because if she thinks about it in any real capacity she will break down

[jempai]

i love love love song interpretations that take the traditional happy approach and twist it

natasha belting out “i’ll never be this happy again”, reckoning with her future, frightened that she will never see andrey again and this, the moments after her awful meeting with his strange family, will be the peak of her enjoyment for the rest of her life, and the crumbling resolve to continue as she realizes that.

clara’s bittersweet “as sad, as happy”, recognizing that this moment is the experience she’s never had before. fabrizio is the only person to treat her with autonomy and not reduce her to her disability, and it stings to know that her life could’ve been so much more had others given her more volition, but it’s fine, it’s fine, she now gets it at the very least

juliette during “je veux vivre”, getting drunk at her birthday party knowing that her parents will marry her off and she’ll be forced to play a role she doesn’t want, so she drinks and prays that the night never ends so she doesn’t have to wake up tomorrow.

the precipice of manic exuberance is the cliff towards crushing despair- the knowledge that this is as good as it gets and you’re not even enjoying it now

happiness and sorrow are two sides of the same coin

[danwhobrowses]

One Piece Chapter 1112 - Initial Thoughts

3 Long Long Weeks

But finally we have returned, One Piece is back and the chaos resumes!

I'm glad Oda of course got to rest, but these weeks have been rough without it, so I'm eager to jump back into Egghead.

Spoilers for the Chapter, Support the Official Release too!

We continue with the Yamato-quest cover story, apparently he's asked Kin'emon for a favour and has compensated for it with payment

As the Mark IIIs get taken down, V. Nusjuro criticizes Vegapunk's decision to give Bonney 'the power to destroy nations'

Of course blind to the fact that they literally have been robbing a child of their parent and been trying to kill her, but yes poor you and your clone army will listen to their child over you

The Navy are still trying to target the Giants' ships, as we get back to the Vice Admirals confronting Bonney and Franky

Fuck yeah Franky! Bellamied that Vice Admiral Nine-Chins!

Bonney de-ages and kicks away the Shell Vice Admiral as well with ease

The transmission is still ongoing, Vegapunk has a sensitive mouth, given the tongue, so he's waiting for the coffee to cool

York leads Mars to the room where it was recorded, and Mars immediately went for the laser!

York continues to explain, stating that destroying the building is futile

We get another layout of Punk Records, sounds like it's an explosion hazard, gas cylinders that could blow Punk Records sky high

Mars suggests that York use their collective mind to figure out where Vegapunk hid the broadcaster, though York mentions something about 'sins' which Mars seems to pick up on

He also senses something in Punk Records, some decent observation haki

York details what the snail looks like and Mars flies off

In the control center, Stussy is alive and so is Kaku albeit still bubbled

I feel like it bodes poorly for her, with Lucci still moving and all, but Kaku asks whether she just got abandoned

Seems Stussy has a mission still to do, one she volunteered to stay behind for

Interesting though that Kaku didn't know it was Mars, given how Lucci did

Edison explains that Stussy is staying behind to lower the barrier

Also Robin panels! She's still in a med bed but this time she has dialogue!

The group still have concerns though how they'll get out without Vega Force 01, even though Edison says the odds are impossible

Usopp has a Coup de Burst set, but we're waiting on Zoro and Jinbe, it may come down to improvisation

Edison seems to respect that though, despite the odds and the facts he admires tenacity

And with that inspiration he leaps from the Labosphere, with a plan to get them to safety - as well as tanking the laser damage

Godspeed little fella, sorry for hoping you were a fraud at the beginning because of your namesake

Back with Luffy and their escape has been halted by Shai Halud

Ju Peter is using suction to try and bring them back in so Luffy stuffs a building in his mouth

But that's it again for Gear Fifth as he goes saggy, fortunately the Giants have food called Hákarl

Fermented Shark Meat, but it'll do, it was said to be reserve rations

Warcury's on the charge next, but is hit by a Red Roc

Luffy's hand aches from the impact though, so Warcury is very durable or has the Rough Skin ability like a Garchomp

Oh no...Saturn has climbed to the Labosphere with Nami, Robin, Brook, Lilith and Usopp

And V. Nusjuro has blocked the path ominously between Bonney, Atlas and Franky

Mars finds a transponder snail with a minute of time remaining too, it all looks dire

It looks dire, but something tells me there's a switch coming.

Saturn will likely be confronted by the returning Zoro and Jinbe, though I'd like to see Usopp, Nami and Brook put up a fight. V. Nusjuro will likely be a Sanji opponent methinks, though he's built to be a Zoro opponent I think the alternation makes sense there. Either way due to immortality the Straw Hats can't win, there has to be a secondary clutch action in order to trigger an escape, the Iron Giant is one thing probably on the ground level but perhaps whatever Edison plans is a second?

It was good to see Robin and Stussy again, and the latter actually doing something even though I'm 90% certain Lucci's gonna jump her at the worst moment. I still hope for a Kaku face turn again but we'll see, him being moved likely means the other CP agents and Seraphim could've been moved too, spared from the wreckage. Also proud that Franky one-shotted a vice admiral because yes, that should be how a Yonko crewmember would deal with it!

As for the transponder, I don't think that's where Punk put it, it's a feint, an inconspicuous decoy that will undercut the Gorosei's believed victory in the moment, pride comes before the fall after all and the narcissism on these dicks is outstanding.

Interestingly I don't know any other lingering factors that can come in clutch, unless the Grand Fleet are gonna pop out; Doll and Bluegrass are still circling the island so something will likely happen there, the Seraphim are at the mercy of the chain of command, so it's getting to the make or break part of the arc before the grand escape.

[fandomwave]

Tcoaal Dev Update and Thoughts You know the drill it's under the cut for those who wanna cut and run on my infestation of thoughts on The Coffin Game

OK I'M

I WANNA TALK ABOUT THE TCOAAL UPDATE BC IT'S BEEN ROTATOING AROUND MY HEAD AND I THINK IT SAYS A FUCKING

L O T

ABOUT ANDREW WITHOUT REVEALING THE TOTAL CONTEXT (which could change this entire yell that I wanna have but that's the thrill of the game theory)

The fact that there is SOME rumor going on (Which if I had to put my finger on would be either that he's boning his sister, ((which would further Andrew's want to put distance between himself and Ashley that's permeated)) or that they killed Nina ((Which would also explain why Julie of all people came to Andrew to say she thinks he should ignore them)) Or I guess a secret third thing, that's always possible but listen, we live on the edge here and I'm not above base jumping some logical leaps

The fact that Andrew did not ask Julie and Nina to be Ashley's friends because of a concern for her, but more than likely a concern for his own standing. The fact we have a scene of their mom and Andrew looking at least sad, saying "I'm trying" makes me feel like Mrs Graves was less an Absent Parent who accidentally foisted Ashley's care onto Andrew by proxy of just not having the time to take care of them both herself, and more that she in fact DIRECTLY tasked him with her care. When she got into trouble, Andrew got into trouble, if there were concerns in her behavior, Andrew was tasked to solving it.

It would explain why he says it means a lot to ME (even if he did cover it up with 'Her' afterwards) because it means that he is no longer tasked with 'solving' this issue.

Not only that but the fact that it SOUNDS like they have been dating or at least flirting since high school. This is a flashback from the past. Andrew's hair is shorter, he has acne, there are rumors of Andrew and Ashley floating around meaning Ashley is more than likely at the same school, and as far as we know Ashley was not attending college so.. Anyways this means that lets say generously Andrew is 18 here, last year of high school, and is 22 in the current time. Lets say it takes.. a year for them to date. I doubt it but lets just say. That means they've more than likely been an item for 3 years. 3 years is a.. it's a significant amount of time for a young adult, so the fact that Andrew, when reviewing his memory of her dorm and of her, admits

You'll never see her again. And the fact that it doesn't bother you, bothers you

W O O F buddy.

Not only that but lets assume both rumors here: Andrew clearly saw that Julia was interested in him. He wasn't oblivious to her intentions and even CONSIDERS the whole gambit with her for a few minutes before asking if she had anything going on after school. That moment of him looking away, I would bet cold hard cash was him doing the mental math of how much this would benefit him in the long run. 'He's fucking his sister' > He gets someone to superimpose his fantasies on, he gets an out to the rumors concerning Ashley, he doesn't have to work too hard to establish a relationship because Ashley and her have been… f r i e n d s…. since they were kids. Since before Nina died. (Young Andrew asks Nina and Julie if they would be her friends) OR 'They killed Nina' > Again the clear interest in Andrew offers a little bit of a shield of guilt. Why would Nina's best friend date someone who she thought killed her. Julie and him dating would mean Julie could herself defend him against the rumors, and by proxy Ashley since he's established that Ashley and her are 'Friends'. And again he doesn't have to work hard on getting her attention because she's here and interested.

What a fucking garbage man. I love him I just can't get over the IDEA that he might have used her entirely as a moral meat shield and then when she broke it off with him, just wasn't even emotionally compromised by it. He's been lying to her face for years. He's been lying about Nina He's been lying about his control over Ashley's actions He's been lying about his entire attachment to her

Ashley was so on the fucking money, even if those voicemails were real or a fabrication of Andrew's inner thoughts: Julie really was just a hole for him to fill.

[toushindai]

A Ghost, and the Smile Junkie

She came into his dreams to hang out with him.

(Baccano!, Elmer & Monica, post-1710)

[ Read on AO3 ]

*

She came into his dreams to hang out with him. She’d sit down next to him in class and diligently take notes, and then she would talk to him during the lunch hour, or walk home with him. It was nice, even if Elmer couldn’t help but feel that it wasn’t quite right.

He voiced his concerns one evening as they passed the harbor.

“Do you go see Huey as well?”

She sent back a faint exasperation at his bluntness, but then chased it away with a roll of her eyes and a rueful smile that faded a moment later. “He won’t let me in.”

Elmer cocked his head. “Let you in?”

Monica answered that with a vague gesture. “I can’t reach him. And when I do, he just—he isn’t ready to receive me. He’s like an iron wall.” She looks Elmer’s way. “What is he like, these days? Can you tell him I’m looking for him?”

Elmer’s brow furrowed. “He’s gone,” he explained. And then he realized how that could have sounded, but Monica only looked puzzled, not worried, so he figured that she must’ve had some way of knowing whether he were dead or not. Ghost stuff. And, well, if both of them were dead, they probably would’ve found each other by now. So he said, “He left the city entirely. Didn’t even tell me where he was going. He was really sad, you know. When you died.”

She sighed, stopped walking. Looked out over the waves. Somewhere, beneath the water, her corpse was decomposing and probably being nibbled at by fish. It was only thanks to Elmer’s intervention that Huey’s body wasn’t down there, too. It occurred to him for the first time just how selfish that had been, stopping his friend from leaping into the waves. If there was life after death, dying so soon after her and in the same location probably would have made it very easy for him to join Monica. But he’d been so devastated. Elmer couldn’t let him die like that.

Which was selfish. But Huey knew he was selfish, and Monica did, too.

But that wasn’t what Monica was thinking about. She wrapped her arms around herself and listened to the sound of the waves. “I didn’t mean to hurt him,” she said, “with any of this. I wanted him to be happy.”

“Well, I could’ve told you that leaving wasn’t the way to accomplish that!”

He said it with a peppy grin, meaning to tease her gently, but she looked back with anguish in her eyes and he realized that he’d misjudged the significance of the statement. “They were after him,” she said. “I couldn’t let them think he was culpable, that he was going to—”

“Do exactly what we wound up doing?” Elmer asked, and now he made his smile gentler, more rueful. Monica looked away. He said, “We saw the play, you know.”

She sighed heavily. “And he still wanted to rescue me, after all that?”

“Of course he did! Why would that change things?”

“Because I wasn’t always the person he knew.” Monica raked her fingers through her long hair, pulling it back from her face. “Everything about me that he knew was a choice, something I had to be deliberately—”

“Yeah, but Huey supported that choice.” She looked at him, like she couldn’t believe that it was that simple. But it was. Huey had said so. “He felt bad about watching the play, you know. I mean, he felt a lot of things about that play, but I’m pretty sure he hated having to learn all that stuff from the play when you hadn’t even felt comfortable telling him yourself. He didn’t want them knowing something you’d wanted to keep hidden from him. You know? If you wanted it hidden, he wanted it to be hidden from everyone. So you could be who you chose to be.” He could see tears starting in her eyes. Not ideal. He poked the corner of her mouth, although that only made her bat his hand away. “He loved Monica. He loved Monica so much. If you wanted Maribel to stay in the past, he was gonna do whatever he could to make that happen.”

Yeah, she was going to cry. Even though this should be making her happy, he thought. She sniffed a few times, and then when he offered her his arms stepped gratefully into his embrace. She cried on his shoulder until the sun began to go down and he slowly woke up from his dream.

[kawarikisaki]

I think it’s 1. Hakuba is just like that and doesn’t know Conan is actually a teenager in the body of a child.

Yes actually! I agree. I put out three different options before just because I was rambling and trying to play devil's advocate with myself a bit, but I do actually think that Hakuba doesn't know Conan is actually a teen.

And now I'm gonna ramble some more to explain why I think that way, because I love Hakuba and I'm just gonna hyperfixate anyway so may as well type it all out.

So to start with, he doesn't know Conan is a shrunken teen, and that has nothing to do with his skill as a detective, the evidence just isn't in front of him. Hakuba doesn't know enough about Shinichi to start putting things together; even Hattori at least had met Shinichi once and had some circumstantial evidence before he started to get suspicious. Hakuba also doesn't have reason to believe that people can be de-aged, actually if anything his experience with Kid has reinforced in his mind that a teen or adult would not be able to pass as a child. Without having one of those angles to approach from it's hard to make the leap of logic required to recognize that Conan isn't just a smart 6 year old.

With that in mind if you look at his first appearance in Detective Conan (The Gathering of Great Detectives), he actually doesn't question or concern himself with Conan's presence from the start. Even Hattori (and yes, I'm going to keep using Hattori as a comparison here) had tried to keep Conan away from crime scenes and such at first, but Hakuba doesn't do that, and granted no one else in the Gathering of Great Detective's really does either. Hakuba sees this person that he believes to be an innocent child in what is clearly a trap for this group of detectives set by using Kid's name - and Hakuba knows it's a trap, this isn't Kid's style after all- so what does he do? He follows the child's plan. Because it's a good plan and the only grievance he has with it is that he'll have to get fake blood on his clothes.

He doesn't belittle Conan for his perceived age. He doesn't worry about him being traumatized despite expressing that he was glad Ran had been put to sleep so she didn't have to witness the cruelty of the plan. He doesn't question Conan's right to be there. And he doesn't try to protect Conan at all.

And if you were to ask me why that is...

I think there are actually a number of different factors behind it, but the most important one is that by the time we see Hakuba in Detective Conan Conan this 'child' has already shown himself capable of dealing with Kid. Sure, Conan didn't arrest Kid, but neither can anyone else, and list of people that can claim to have been able to stop Kid from stealing an item is relatively small, and without knowing Conan on a personal level Hakuba can understand that level of competence. He can respect him as a professional, and not look down on him aside from in the literal sense. Though, it probably also helps that in the two times Hakuba has seen Conan he wasn't doing the 'ah-le-le I'm just a dumb little kid' routine. Both times he actually showed his real intelligence, thought still a bit of a tree hidden in a forest of other detectives.

Well that's probably enough of that for now. TL;DR: Hakuba doesn't know Conan is a teen, but he respects him anyway because he'd respect anyone that could catch Kaito off guard.

[palmettoshitposts]

matt boyd’s big sister (more kefu oc’s)

matt has known stevie boyd-yi all his life - shes his half sister, after all, but post-canon they get a lot closer.

stevie - who exclusively answers to stevie, never anything else. she’ll actually kill you if you call her stephanie - is five years older than matt. she’s never been super close with their father - her mum died when she was young and their dad was never a hands on father. he didn’t tend to be abusive, just very neglectful. stevie had really happy memories of growing up with matt and randy around. when donald and randy split, causing randy and matt to move away, she was devastated. for many years though, stevie was a regular and welcome visitor at randy’s. after dropping off the radar for a bit, at 16 she appeared on randy’s doorstep and moved in with them. she was unusually cagey about the final straw but randy knows what donald is like. 11 year old matt is just thrilled to have his big sister around.

at 18, stevie gets the opportunity to study applied sports science in edinburgh - somewhere she knew her mum had spent a lot of time. despite feeling sad about leaving randy - who she calls mum more often than not - and matt behind, she leaps at the opportunity. while there, she gets as chance to develop her boxing skills, something randy had begun to teach her and loves every minute of it. she also throws herself into every other sport she can, although she doesn’t think shes mad enough for exy.

in edinburgh, stevie meets wiccan philosophy student who looks like she’s stepped straight out of a fairy tale called morgan. morgan is potentially the definition of hyper-femininity and her whimsical charm has stevie hanging on every single word. morgan knows it as well and is fortunately - for an unusually bashful stevie - incredibly forward, if a little hard for stevie to understand at first - her accent is very thick (something that has stevie practically swooning). they start dating soon after and very quickly move in together.

theres something about morgan’s unfazed calm that balances stevie’s endless energy perfectly. throughout their degrees, they live in each others pockets. after graduating, stevie gets the opportunity to box locally and morgan gets her masters degree. they settle down in a bizarre domestic bliss that stevie never thought she would have. it’s so unlike the way she saw randy and her father interact, although anything involving her father was not the best example of a relationship. or parenting. or just being a human being.

the year matt and his foxes win the championship, stevie receives a call. it’s not unusual, she speaks to randy most weeks. but randy is unusually tentative. stevie just, not unkindly, tells her to spit it out. randy explains shes secured funding for a psu fox style project in the boxing world in new york and could really do with some advice. she knows stevie is happy in edinburgh - shes visited enough times to see that - but she can’t think of anyone else shed want to go into business with. in a bizarre serious of coincidences, morgan has found someone to supervise her phd at columbia university in new york. that solves randy’s issue and within a week, they’ve moved from edinburgh and randy and stevie are scouting locations for randy’s ring.

matt, who stevie has spoken to weekly since leaving, is thrilled to have his sister back. stevie ends up spending a small fortune on plane tickets between nyc and columbia to begin with, excited to be able to see matt so easily. one thing matt didn’t account for was how his friends would react to stevie. shes nearly six foot tall and pure muscle yet more feminine than she thinks she is and very, very beautiful. when the foxes meet her, dan, allison and renee all fall slightly in love with her. neil is just confused because he didn’t realise matt had a sister - he presumed any talk of ‘stevie’ was about a dog. matt is kinda concerned his best friend is so unobservant about somethings and not others.

the sticking point between matt and stevie is how they feel about their dad. matt knows that his dad and sister dont have a relationship - his relationship with their dad is shaky at best but matt keeps up the hope that some day he will apologise for how he’s acted and refuses to cut him out in the way stevie had done. stevie kept vaguely in touch after leaving herself but her final straw was hearing - on the other side of the fucking world - what had happened to matt. she was so fucking angry that it had happened. she doesn’t say anything, though. matt knows they’re not in contact but he doesn’t know how fucking angry stevie still is over it.

it comes to a head, like most things with the foxes, when they’re tipsy and hanging out. stevie and morgan are down in columbia for the weekend with all of the foxes. they’re not at at edens but a quaint little bar they found down the road that they now frequent. someone - in all their wisdom - decides that it’s time to bring up dad’s, a mistake in any fox conversation.

stevie is boarding on drunk when she says “yeah, well, i dont speak to my dad because he has that annoying habit of getting his kids hooked on drugs.” shes aiming for humour but it doesn’t even land.

matt tenses, he has a really complicated range of emotions about this. he knows deep down that his father is responsible but a small part of him always reminded him he was a teenager, not a defenceless kid. he said yes. he shouldn’t have been offered drugs - especially not hard drugs like that - but he said yes.

matt just tersely replies “i’d hardly call it a habit, stevie, it happened once.”

he never calls her stevie, only steve. it’s a childhood habit that stuck. in that moment, it felt wrong.

“twice,” stevie corrects as though it was obvious but then her brain finally catches up. matt doesn’t know.

“stevie”

“what? that piece of shit got us both hooked on drugs, you know?” she really needs to shut up.

“what the fuck are you on about? you’re joking”

“that would be a shit joke”

“you have to be joking, thats not true.”

“tell that to the fucking rehab centre i spent nearly six months in at sixteen.”

“stevie” it’s morgan now. shes calm and gentle, yet firm. shes the voice of reason. she removes stevie from the situation, her insanely long hair tickling stevies arms slightly, and tells matt to meet them tomorrow afternoon once they’ve both sobered up. she gives matt a hug and tells dan - who’s also become a friend to the couple - to look after him.

they meet the next day. matt, dan, stevie and morgan. stevie can’t stop crying. she hadn’t stopped all night. neither her nor morgan really slept. morgan just held stevie and let her feel. she was definitely drunker than she thought and she never intended it to come out that way. matt’s more hung up on the fact she never told him.

“you were too young to begin with,” stevie says, trying not to cry any more, “and then he’d fucking done it again. i felt guilty, matt, i shouldn’t have left. i should have been around when mum had to go away.”

matt nods almost emotionlessly. he’s not agreeing with stevies statement at all - it’s not her fucking fault - but he is digesting it. dans hand is reassuringly on his thigh the whole time. he eventually has one more question. “has he apologised to you?”

stevie chooses her words carefully. she doesn’t want anger to take over here. she needs to be rational and calm. she shakes her head. “i think the fact he did it again just solidifies the fact he doesn’t feel bad. but that doesn’t mean you have to cut him out, matt.”

matt doesn’t full on block his father like stevie had done but any closeness and familiarity has faded. despite the difficulties (and things they unpack together in therapy) stevie and matt become closer than ever.

randy’s ring really takes off - a project for kids like matt and stevie, and all of the foxes - they open up more and more locations. stevie is at randys side the whole time and matt couldn’t be prouder.

but stevies had enough of being a boyd. matt becomes a wilds and stevie decides, before her wedding (which has surprisingly take a while - they waited for morgan to get her phd) that she wants a different name. morgan has no real connection to her family and isn’t fussed about keeping her name. stevie’s keeping yi - the only tangible connection to her mother - but the other part she wants isn’t necessarily hers to take. after a boxing session after hours at the ring with randy, they’re pulling off the gloves and talking about where to go for dinner. stevie stops her for a minute.

“how would you feel,” she says slowly, very unsure of herself, “if i changed my name?”

“go for it, kid, do whatever you want.” randy is entirely bemused as to why stevie is asking for permission.

“i mean my surname. i obviously want to keep the yi but i was wondering about williams? my lovely wife and i could be the yi-williams.”

williams. randy williams. her eyes filled with tears and she tackles her daughter (blood be damned) into a hug.

“baby, that sounds like a brilliant idea”

matt, naturally, loses his shit over this and absolutely fucking loves it. stevie is entirely his sister, no matter what people want to say.

(matt eventually becomes a stay at home dad while dans out there killing it as a coach. their three children grow up around randys ring, with their grandma and doting aunties stevie and morgan)

[thegreaterlink]

Reviewing Star Trek TNG - S4E8 "Future Imperfect"

My last review was posted like... nine months ago.

Time flies when you're lazy.

THE PREMISE

Commander Riker’s birthday celebrations are interrupted by reports of strange sensor readings from Alpha Onias 3. He beams down with Geordi and Worf to investigate but they’re quickly knocked out by toxic gases. Upon awakening in sickbay, Riker discovers that sixteen years have passed (though he can't remember any of it) and he is now the captain of the Enterprise.

MY REVIEW

Sixteen years in the future. Assuming that Riker is roughly the same age as Jonathan Frakes, that would put him in his mid-fifties. And if we compare this "middle-aged" Riker to Jonathan Frakes circa mid-2000s...

Not bad. Still, anything beats that weird adult Wesley from Hide and Q.

Then again, if we use Riker's birthday slab as an indicator, then he just turned...

...six.

I guess he was born on a leap year.

Anyway, here we are in the future, where Dr Crusher chalks up Riker's sudden amnesia to a side effect of a dormant infection which he picked up on that away mission all those years ago. An infection which Klingons just so happen to be immune to... and I guess Geordi is just built different.

Dr Crusher recommends associational therapy, with the idea being that surrounding Riker with familiar people and things will help to jog his memory, starting with a trip to the bridge. Because a man fresh out of a coma with a massive gap in his memory is clearly fit to resume command of a starship. Good call.

Riker arrives on the bridge and finds it looking… exactly the same, since new sets ain’t cheap, but there are at least changes among the crew. My boi Data is now First officer, Geordi now has ocular implants so LeVar Burton gets to act without a hunk of plastic on his face, and more species like Klingons and Ferengi are among the crew.

But what concerns Riker is the most is Admiral Picard and Troi arriving on a Romulan Warbird.

That last one is explained by ongoing peace treaty negotiations with the Romulans, which Riker has apparently been leading ever since he rescued the crew of a damaged Warbird which wound up in Federation space. Evidently random acts of kindness go a long way towards stopping wars in this universe. The Enterprise is currently escorting the Romulan ambassador to Outpost 23 to wrap things up and get the treaty signed.

Yep. Here we are in the future, and it's bright. Nothing to fear, no one to fight... I can't believe we've come so far.

Then Tomalak beams aboard.

Future Picard and Troi try to reassure Riker – yeah, he did threaten to take the Enterprise's hull as a trophy last season, but that was one time – but he's still concerned, both by the massive gap in his memory and that he might have to reveal sensitive Starfleet intel to someone he probably can't trust.

With the briefing over and Riker’s memories still thoroughly gone, Troi takes him back to his quarters, where a mysterious child is playing his trombone.

"Hi, Dad!"

Ah. He has his father's... hair?

This is Riker's son, Jean-Luc (Chris Demetral). I remember being surprised that Troi wasn't the mother... but their romance is barely more than subtext at this point, so it's not that shocking. Jean-Luc's mother was actually a woman only known as Min, who Troi explains died two years prior. Even though they have zero evidence of her existing – aside from the child she supposedly birthed, I mean – and Riker can't find any trace of her in the ship's records. They don't even have any photos of her. I guess they had to make room for their... modern art?

I think I saw the Threads logo in there.

Christ, the last time I posted a review Threads didn't even exist it's been so fucking long

The computer's been acting up for a while now, come to think of it. I'm sure Geordi will be done with that diagnostic soon.

Still, I can at least appreciate the script's efforts to make us care about this kid. Riker adjusts pretty well to being a father, though that probably has more to do with Jonathan Frakes' natural daddy– I mean dad energy.

"I guess there's only one thing we can do. We've got to build some new memories!"

But Riker is still bothered that he can't find any trace of his late wife, though Jean-Luc says he's just not being precise enough, and pulls up some old home movies. It's here that we discover that "Min" is actually Minuet (again played by Carolyn McCormick for a single shot – that's dedication for you), that hologram lady he tried to bone way back in his babyface era.

Suddenly everything starts falling into place. And speaking of hologram romantics (or holosexuals, as I like to call them), Geordi calls Riker back up to the bridge.

It's here that the attempts to keep Riker gaslit, gatekept and girlbossed completely fall apart, as he calls out all sorts of holes in the facade, like Geordi taking more than a day to run a simple diagnostic, nobody being able to properly recall past events and even Data using a contraction.

Ha! I knew Lore was going to come back eventually! AND THEY CALLED ME A MADMAN!

...No? It's not Lore? Aight. Maybe next season.

"Would anyone else like to speak up? Or shall we end this charade?"

With the wool thoroughly pulled back from Riker's eyes, Tomalak reveals that the whole thing has actually been a hologram simulation designed to trick him into revealing Federation intel like, say, the location of Outpost 23.

You win this time, Lore.

Turns out that after the away team was hit with the gas, the Romulans intercepted Riker while he was being beamed up. They used their neural scanners to create a perfect replica of the Enterprise and its crew. Add a bit of ageing makeup and some bullshit about amnesia and badda bing badda bang, you’ve got yourself a pretty convincing future AU.

As for Tomalak’s OC, Jean-Luc, he was actually some random kid named Ethan who they had taken prisoner after raiding a research outpost on the edge of the Neutral Zone.

They throw Riker in a cell with him for a lil bit — just long enough for Ethan to tell him about a secret hiding spot elsewhere on the ship — so when the Romulans come back with the intention of taking the intel by force, Riker seizes the opportunity. One distraction and a few punches in the face later, and they’re on the run.

Ethan leads Riker through a convenient crawl space to a convenient forgotten room where some convenient blueprints conveniently tell them the location of the ship’s communication centre where they could send a message to the Enterprise. But there's a catch.

Ethan: The transmitter's on a voice-activated security system only.

Riker: Do you know whose voice activates it?

Ethan: Only Ambassador Tomalak.

...The fuck you say?

Yeah, the plot be thickening. Turns out the original simulation was just crammed inside of another one. So the Romulan ship fades away... as do the Romulans... and Tomalak... until Riker is left standing back in the cave on Alpha Onias 3... with only the boy remaining.

Credit where it's due, decent plot twist.

The boy, whose real name is Barash, reveals that his mother left him in the cave — which essentially functions as Holodeck+ by manifesting anything he wants — to keep him safe. But with his mother long dead and the Enterprise being the planet's first visitors in ages, he baited the away team down to the surface and intercepted Riker mid-transport while Geordi and Worf were safely beamed back up.

But with the game up, Barash drops the facade, allowing the Enterprise to finally get a proper lock on him. Fortunately Riker realises that the kid meant nothing by it and even offers him asylum on the Enterprise, prompting Barash to finally reveal his true form.

Ah... I think you've got the wrong set, my dude. This is Star Trek. Doctor Who is on Stage 4B.

Riker: To me, you'll always be Jean-Luc.

And so Riker has himself and the kid beamed up. Da end.

We're going to see a lot of these "waking up in a different reality" plots going forward, and while I'm usually not really a fan — you're mostly just waiting for the character in question to realise something ain't right and expose whatever tomfuckery is causing it — this one ain't half bad, since it was a bit more subtle about it and had some third act twists to spice things up. So yeah.

7/10 - The first of many.

We are so fucking back.

Previous Episode | TNG Masterpost | Next Episode

[randomly-a-fan]

What’s wrong with Skippy

[Not sure if it’s a NSFW content, since it’s only on animals, but just in case]

It was Spring at Camp Crystal Lake, which means baby animals. However, it also means that Malon can’t go near animals this season, until her dad Jason says it’s okay. Although, Malon wasn’t thinking about this beautiful season, she’s more worried about Skippy; he hasn’t been himself lately, he’s been skittish lately and has been hyper all day. Normally, he’s leap-less and not as ‘skippy’. “Daddy, you’re an expert when it comes to animals, why is Skippy acting so strange?” Malon asked. Jason may be an animal expert; after all, he lives in the woods his whole life. But even he’s not sure what was wrong with the rabbit, or why he’s acting like this. 

The next day, Malon lets Skippy out to do his business. Normally when she lets him out to make his doo, he comes back afterwards. But this time, he hasn’t come back, so, Malon decided to go out and look for him.

When Malon found Skippy in the meadow, she noticed that he was with another rabbit, who is slightly smaller than Skippy. Malon has been watching them from a distance, until her dad came by her side. “Dad, did you know about this? Skippy is with another rabbit.” Malon pointed out. Jason can see that the other rabbit is a female rabbit, so he responded with a silent chuckle. “I think the reason why you are laughing a little, is that Skippy has got himself a girlfriend; They’re twitterpated.” Malon said with excitement. Jason raised an eyebrow with confusion; twitterpated, what on earth does that mean? Then he pasted his hand onto his head, now remembering where Malon gets it from; from ‘Bambi’.

When Jason wasn’t paying attention, he noticed Malon watching Skippy humping on the girl rabbit. So, he covered his daughter’s eyes and carried her away. “What’s wrong dad? she’s just giving Skippy a piggyback-ride.” Malon said while moving blindly. Malon was also asking why she can’t bring Skippy home, but Jason couldn’t explain, so he decided to explain everything in adult-content with MJ, and then have her explain things to Malon in only a twelve-year-old can handle.

***

It took about ten minutes, but at last, Malon can finally get her questions answered. “You see, Malon, Skippy was in a state where he wants to formicate with a female of the same species as him. One thing for sure, your dad covered your eyes and carried you away, is because he didn’t want you to witness adult content.” MJ explained. Malon understands a little, but not 100%. Still, she’s still worried about Skippy; would he want to come back to being Malon’s pet? She loved Skippy to bits, but she wondered if she didn’t give Skippy enough love or too much. With her dad as an expert on animal behaviors, she decided to let things go. 

Of course, after the past days, Malon knew that Skippy was overdue with his vaccinations and needed to take him to the vet. So, Malon went out to fetch him; even though she needed her dad to come along, but she was growing impatient. Malon knew she needed to be gentle and calm, so that’s what she’ll do. Jason was on his way out to get Skippy until he noticed that Malon was gone already. He face-palmed for her act of being impatient, so he went out to search for her, before she finds Skippy and make the wrong move. 

The reason why Jason was concerned is that he knew that rabbits are skittish, and he knew that Skippy will do something hasty with his own master; Malon. So, as Jason made it to the field, he saw Malon crying while running towards him. “Daddy!” Malon cried. He opened his arms and scooped her up. “Skippy kicked me, and then he bit my hand!” Malon bawled. Jason patted her back while bouncing her a little. After a while, Jason escorted Malon back home to have her hand checked, while Jason goes on a search for Skippy; being an undead, bites from an animal is no match for him anyway.

***

Back at home, MJ was cleaning Malon’s bite with warm water and gave it a bandage, while Malon continues sniffling from what Skippy did to her, his own master. “How could he do this to me? I’ve raised him since he was a cute little bunny... and now, just like that, he kicks me in the stomach and then bit my hand...” Malon said between sniffles. MJ understands what she’s been through and can relate; however, back in her time, her mom would just chuckle a little and call her a wimp, but MJ did not want to be like that. So, she gave her daughter a hug and reassurance. “Sweetheart, sometimes the owner gets bit or scratched for different reasons; to protect, or to defend themselves whenever they’ve been touched in a tender spot, but sometimes, it may have something to do with an infection that some animals get.” MJ explained.

Malon looked at her mom before she responded. “But I wasn’t doing anything; I was approaching the den slowly, and then Skippy came out with a kick; I didn’t even touch him... How can I become a veterinarian, if animals attack me?” Malon asked rhetorically. MJ smiled to what she just heard. “You wanted to be a veterinarian?” MJ asked calmly. “Yeah... I wanted to save the animals, even wild ones; I wanted to be loved by animals, like dad... But I can’t be a veterinarian if the animals want to hurt me.” Malon explained. “Sweetheart, it’s normal for animals to be feisty with people who were only trying to help them; they’re just frightened by someone who they don’t know, or who could possibly be a threat. With your love for animals, they will love you back.” MJ said with a smile that brightens the day.

Just then, Jason came back to look for Malon. He wanted her to follow him, and his wife too. Malon and MJ followed Jason to where he wanted to take his girls. When they got to where Malon was to get Skippy, Malon halted and hid behind her mom. “Nuh uh, I don’t want to upset Skippy again, not ever.” Malon said. Jason understands that Malon is scared, but he can reassure her that there is nothing to worry about; as a matter of fact, he wanted to explain to her that Skippy had a reason to act on Malon. So, Malon went beside her dad to see where he’s pointing at.  

Malon’s heart dropped when she saw what was in the den. “Baby bunnies! And they’re just born... Aww, Skippy is a daddy!” Malon teared up. Then MJ came up to see the newborn bunnies. “Now I see why he acted so feisty with you; he was only protecting his new additions and his mate; he didn’t want you to disturb them.” MJ explained calmly, with Jason nodding his head, as it was the exact point that MJ made.

Then Malon thought of something. “Does this mean... Skippy doesn’t want to be my pet anymore?” Malon asked concernedly. MJ sighed before she answered. “It’s really hard to say; but what I do know, is that his children needed their daddy; just like when you needed your daddy, back when you were a baby.” MJ said honestly. Malon looked sadly into the den, and then she saw Skippy coming out. He wasn’t going to attack Malon, since he knows that she’s not doing anything to disturb him and his new family.

When it was time to go back to the house, Malon looked back at Skippy and blew a kiss. “Take care... My best friend...” Malon said as she leaves with tears running down her eyes. Skippy watched from a distance, he had mixed feelings, either he wanted to go back to Malon, or stay with his children and mate. Well, I guess we’ll never know; but at least they’re not far from each other, and who knows; once the bunnies grew big, and his mate finds a new bunny to get humped by, he may come back and be with Malon again. But for now, he must enjoy his life with his new family.

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Magpiepaw and The-Thorn Tom (short story)

I want to help you, the strange tom had said as he half-carried, half-dragged Magpiepaw to Starclan-knows-where. Or….maybe they don’t, not here. 

Terrified as she was, part of her believed him. Why, she wasn’t too sure. Maybe it was because he seemed awfully younger than cats she was expecting to see in the red, deceased forest, or because his eyes revealed genuine concern for her, concern she wasn’t sure she deserved.

That belief fell away into a pit of awful, black dread when a barbed mound appeared over the rise. It rose high and stretched far, thorns long and sharp, sharper than talons–Magpiepaw could tell, even from a distance. She followed numbly with the tom’s pulls, too scared to remember to stop or run. 

They padded right to the thorns, and she could see them in greater and greater detail with every step. The spikes themselves came in different shapes, some straight, direct, others curled like the claws of cats or fangs of badgers. But all of them were sharp, edges as thin as needles strewn on a forest floor. The branches they protruded from bent at awkward angles, making Magpiepaw think, nauseously, of broken spines, wrapped and twisted together in such a massive form that the red, eerie light coming from behind it could only shine through the outermost edges. The rest were cloaked in darkness.

Magpie shivered. Were the thorns reaching for her like an outstretched paw? She heard rustling, saw movement, and realized with a cold jolt that the brambles were moving. A few, painful, rapid heartbeats later, and a cat stepped out.

He was a tom, brown with reddish legs. A Twoleg thing was wrapped around his neck like a soft collar, and his eyes were dark as the night, save for the deep, red-as-red-could-be colour of his pupils, which, as his eyes fell on her, were as thin as the thorns he had emerged from.

He padded forward until he loomed above her. Magpiepaw realized that that was because she had flattened herself to the ground.

“She’s a kit,” the tom who had dragged her explained. Magpiepaw hadn’t noticed that he had stopped holding her.

“What has that got to do with me?” the Thorn-tom asked. His voice…it was indescribable, and it made Magpiepaw’s heart leap into her throat like a hot liquid. Was this a nightmare?

“She needs safety.”

The Thorn-tom narrowed his eyes. “And I can provide it?”

The smaller tom shrugged, but now Magpiepaw could scent his uncertainty. “Better than most.” He nodded toward the thorns. “Is Alderstar here?”

The thorn-tom’s gaze flickered. “Would you prefer it if he were, Stumppaw?”

Stumppaw didn’t answer him. “Hootpetal?”

“Both gone, off climbing trees together.”

“What about Grousemane?”

“Off chewing berries, I suspect.” The tom stepped forward. Magpiepaw was both frozen, and trembling with fear at the same time as he leaned down and sniffed along her head. “Fur puffed all out,” he observed. Magpiepaw could smell blood, and saw it spilling from beneath his collar. “From me or from her death. I like the idea of the former.”

Stumppaw shuffled his paws. “Should I take her somewhere else?”

“I thought you said it was safe here.”

Stumppaw’s throat visibly moved in a swallow. “Do you want to take her in? For a little bit, at least?”

The thorn-tom returned his attention to Magpiepaw. “What’s her name?” he asked Stumppaw, though he was looking directly into–no, through her eyes. 

“I don’t know?”

This close, muzzle to her head, the iron scent of blood filled her entire nose and mouth, threatening to choke her. But the tom seemed otherwise fine. This was the Dark Forest, where bad cats, where murderers go…was it… “Did you hurt someone?” then she squeeked. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud!

The thorn-tom straightened. “Don’t worry,” he told her silkily, apparently guessing what had caused her worries. With a paw, he lifted the collar, revealing a neck that was, well, a neck that wasn’t there. His head was separated from his body save for many tendrils of skin and meat and the twisted neck bone at the back that clung his two parts together desperately–probably greatly helped by the collar–, red with dripping or splattered blood. It specked his face and leaked onto his chest, seeping into his fur. Where his flesh parted was horribly shredded like chewed leaves, hanging limply at the top and folding saggily at the bottom. “It’s all mine.”

Magpiepaw would have vomited right then and there if she wasn’t so terrified to move. The sight was wretched, horrible….probably painful. “Does it hurt?” she asked, once again surprising herself.

The thorn-tom seemed mildly taken aback too, though the only sign was the slightest and momentarily widening of his eyes. “Not in a bad way,” he answered. What did that mean? “It’s a good stretch. What about you?”

“Me?”

“Your death. It follows you, you know. Why do you think his neck was like that?” He nodded toward Stumppaw. Magpiepaw followed his gaze, and realized for the first time that the small tom’s throat bent awkwardly in the middle. She had been too surprised to notice, plus the fact that she was dragged. It must have hurt to take her here. Why did he bother?

Magpiepaw wondered how she had died. She wasn’t entirely sure. She had….she had….She was blamed for some deaths, was yelled at, and then….what happened then? Fur puffed all out….From me or from her death. She felt it now, how quick breathing, her every hair standing on end. She had thought it was from her fear of being dragged, and the thorns, and this strange tom, but…was this her death?

“She can stay here,” the strange tom broke into her thoughts.

“Really?” Stumppaw asked.

“Of course,” the tom replied cheerily. “That is,” he added to Magpiepaw, “if you want to stay with me.”

===============================

Next: https://at.tumblr.com/residents-of-the-darkforest/thorn-den-short-story/yiptdjzly38d

================================

--Perhaps not the best introduction, but Myrtle was a vicious serial killer, and can be incredibly intimidating.

--Alder and Hoot out on a date. Grouse getting drunk (or high).

--Will probably make a part 2 that will show a....nicer Myrtlewing. Besides, it gets better. Remember this?

--@ambitiousauthor​

[sophluorescentmusing]

FOXFISH

Kwangjang Market, Seoul Summer 2015

The heat of the market—inherent to this place, both for crowd and its quality of vendor—creates a thick sheen on his skin; it stokes up the amygdala like wind to the blaze, sets it to shivering and bleating and raring to leap into panic.

Exposure therapy. 

He’s trying it, not that he’d been advised to do so, but because he’d heard somewhere along the line that is was an overly accessible way of working through your emotions (perhaps Chanyeol at one of their infrequent lunches? It seems a sentiment more native to someone like Kyungsoo, who is easy-going and unflappable—more calm and peaceful than the former—but Baekhyun cannot summon the conversation to mind enough to decide one way or another). He thinks that, if the method were recommended by someone more clinical, professional, that it would come with parameters and advices beyond simply diving into it blind. Baekhyun’s always been impulsive with the heart, with healing and trying to heal. Thinks he can grab it up from the mold and shape it into what he needs at the snap of a finger.

The thought translates down his nerves. His thumb and middle-finger touch, press, and slide. Snap. 

The rabbit thumping against the walls of his heart does not falter in its pace. His sweat has made his T-shirt stick to the small of his back. He thinks, to some degree, that the exposure is helping. He allows the crowd to press to him, to move him propulsively into the depths of the market (where the only sign of a breeze is the one high over-head, ruffling through the international array of flags strung across the ceiling). The first time he’d come here (after the accident, he’d been many times before) he’d come earlier in the morning, and had still needed to step off to the side—out of the walking river between food stalls—and eventually leave the market entirely.

This second time, a month later, and he feels like each time a stranger’s knuckle knocks against his own his conviction grows; each time a stranger’s feet nearly trip up in his, he feels his steps become more certain. He hinges on the sound of laughter, of the murmuring and the humming and the talking. He makes a distraction of the noise, of the crowd, of the bright array of colors, of the plethora of scents—spicy, sour, savory, sweet. Not so much that he misses the noodle-stall he’d ventured here for, but enough that the heat does not seem so thick as it clings to his skin.

A greeting touches his tongue as he approaches the stall, but does not leave it. He’d come here as a kid. He recognizes the woman behind the counter (Park Seul-ki imonim), gracing everyone with a smile. He doubts she will recognize him. 

His sneakers scrape the wood beneath the bench as he braces, steps up and over, leg-by-leg. He finds that it’s easier to do things in that mechanical way (almost robotic, computerized, line of code by line of code—and he’s taken by a memory of his programming class in college, of his code failing and his father trying to explain his mistake despite not knowing the first thing about the language). 

Half-way onto the bench, he almost loses his balance. 

Catches himself, and he sits.

It’s not until his elbow knocks against the man’s next to him that he gets out of his head. Just quickly enough to catch the tail-end of: “—all right?” And that all-too-recognizable glint of concern laid across the words. 

Baekhyun glances sideways—catches a fox-face made soft by pity. God, is he that transparent? “Yeah, thanks.” His tone’s too flat (his music teacher would have given him so much grief for that); he cringes, but doesn’t apologize, or offer any explanation. He just sighs deep, feels entirely unlike himself, and orders with the noona helping imonim. 

The name: mul-naengmyeon rolls of his tongue with swiftness. What better way is there to chase away the heat than with the cold? But he is not so quick as to request his modification. The business of the dinner rush (influxed with both foreigners and tourists from other parts of the country) has noona reeling away to expertly handle another guest. 

He’ll just pick the cucumbers off the top of the soup.

It’s hard to ignore the way his chest constricts, tightens up like its been cinched with a rope.

It’s harder to ignore the lump in the back of his throat, sitting heavy on his tongue.

It’s hardest to allow himself to feel as he feels, and feel warranted to it, because he thinks himself silly. A little cucumber stands to make him crumble? Pathetic. 

“You sure?” That voice again.

Baekhyun blinks back the sting in his eyes. Irritation prickles at him. His tongue’s always been sharp when he’s over-worn. But, even as he turns, ready to draw a metaphorical line in the sand between himself and this stranger who thinks himself obligated to an answer—

“—Your soup, Baekhyun-ie.” 

The bowl is set before him, cucumber garnish nowhere to be seen.

He’s tardy with his thanks. The gratitude gets caught in the lump in his throat, but this time, manages to leap off the tip of his tongue. 

“—Cause you really don’t seem all right.” Imonim has moved on to the next guest, entrepreneurial despite her extension of kindness. In the gap she leaves, the fox at his side has chosen to continue his interrogation. 

“What’s it matter to you?” Baekhyun murmurs. He’s able to keep the acidity out of his tone. Nostalgia has twined with the grief and the overwhelming dirge of the day, and it has softened him—even if the irritation remains simmering. He doesn’t look at the stranger, but plucks metal chopsticks and a soup-spoon from the tin offered to each customer. 

“Well I suppose it doesn’t matter at all.”

“So then?” Baekhyun drawls, trailing off and raising his brow as he speaks. He stirs the broth and the garnish together, weighs if he should add lime atop it all (and after a glancing deliberation, decides to go without).

“My friend would say I’m chasing good karma.” That quiet, tumble of a half-laugh is more soothing than Baekhyun wished it were. It distracts his rabbit-heart, and the pause lingers. “I can leave you alone…” But he doesn’t want to. 

Baekhyun’s not unused to kindness. 

He’d been spoiled with affection growing up.

This elicits nothing more than the familiarity of that time.

“The heat’s getting to me—that’s all,” Baekhyun offers. He takes a bite of the noodles. His eyes flutter shut. For a moment, the crowd of the market is far away. Then, he blinks, and sound resumes him. “I’m hot-blooded or whatever,” he says, figuring it doesn’t hurt to fib early and wayleigh any potentially forthcoming questions. 

“Here I was thinking the heat didn’t seem so bad tonight.” There is the half-laugh again. “You must not come often, then?”

“No, not really.”

“Seul-ki recognizes you, though.” He noticed. 

“Imonim must remember the terror I was when I was younger.” He does not say aloud he’s ruffled by the lack of honorific, but he is. This stranger with his fox-smile is abrasive (yet charismatic), is insolent (yet politely kind, too). 

“You must have been some terror to have her recall your name. She always says her memory’s too bad to recall mine.” 

“Do you prompt her to call you by name?” Baekhyun sideyes him again, but the stranger is unfazed. His grin has not faltered—though it has thinned as he chews a bite of his food. His cheeks stretch across his bones. His eyes crinkle good-naturedly. Still, he has a sharpness to him—something that creates a disharmony of him (one Baekhyun cannot quite discern).

“Of course. I am her most loyal customer.” His voice pitches, becomes louder, and another plate of banchan is set down between the two of them. 

Along with it: “Behave, Jongdae.” With the same formality and strictness of one’s mother.

Seul-ki moves on, once more compelled to attend her other customers.

“You seem more a terror than I was.”

This time, the laugh is loud and unabashed—a bark of mirth.

“Perhaps!” 

[lotus-flowerz]

hello hello I love your writings so far sobs I couldn't help but do an ask myself aa (it's my first ask ever help hwkajd) could I request perhaps gn reader that flinched away from the boys by reflex? (preferably with Diluc, Kaeya and Kazuha but you can add or remove someone if you want to!) like they were hanging out and reader was lost in thoughts and suddenly when they see in the corner of their eyes how the boys raise their arm for smth reader quickly raises their arms above their own head to protect it- how would they react and how would they comfort the reader? I hope it's not too much or if you're uncomfortable with it you can ignore it if you want to whaaaa

AHHH TY IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE MY WRITING! i actually do this too, some of my old friends would make fun of me for it, so i hope that my writing here is accurate >.<

i also added beidou in here, hope you don't mind, i just had to since she's my favorite character <3

TW!! FLINCHING, ANXIETY, PAST TRAUMA, MENTION OF DEATH AND INJURIES

SLIGHT INAZUMA ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS

KAEYA BACKSTORY SPOILERS

The cherry blossoms fell silently from the trees under which you and Kazuha were sitting. Those had remained unchanged since you and Kazuha were children. The beauty of the pink blossoms falling towards the green earth without a care.

It had remained the same through the vision hunt decree, through the war, through watching Tomo get killed by the shogun, through both of you getting injured during said fight. Kazuha's hand was burnt from Tomo's vision, and your body had a large scar running from your knee to the side of your neck from a stray bolt of lighting from Tomo's divine punishment. If not for Kazuha's determination to not lose another friend and Beidou and her crew caring for you, you would be dead.

These days, although you and Kazuha both carried the same trauma, he seemed to be doing leaps and bounds better than you were. Your eyes flitted to Kazuha, who was writing poetry. The only sound that could be heard was his pen gliding across the paper, filling it with his eloquent words that always seemed to flow so smoothly.

You were deep in thought, when out of the corner of your eye you spotted something coming towards your face. Instinctively, your hands flew out to shield yourself, leaving a very confused Kazuha, who was only scratching his head, looking at you with concern in his eyes.

"Dove.. did you think I was going to hurt you?"

You slowly lowered your arms, guilt washing over you.

"No! It's just- sometimes, when movements are too sudden.. I.. you know, I try to protect myself because uh.."

His eyes drifted to your scar, then looked up at your face, only to find it tilted to the ground. He put a finger under your chin, bringing your eyes up to meet his, then kissing your forehead.

One hand snaked around your waist while the other traced lightly over your scar, sending shivers down your spine. You wrapped your arms around him as well, putting a little of your weight onto him.

He kissed your lips, squeezing you tight against him.

"I'll never let anyone hurt you again. I promise."

"Kazuha, it's not-"

"I know it's not my fault. And I know I couldn't have prevented it. But I promise you, you're safe now."

He brought his hand up to cradle the back of your head as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"Thank you." you said, squeezing him a little tighter.

"No need to thank me. I love you, Y/n."

"I love you too, Kazuha."

You had been a part of Beidou's crew for just over a year now, after meeting her in the wharf of Liyue harbor after finally finding the courage to leave your abusive and toxic partner. You didn't have a place to stay and you were clearly distraught, so when she asked if you were okay and you immediately began to cry, she offered you to come on her ship. You trusted her, since she was the well-known captain of the Crux. After you had explained your situation, she offered you to join her crew. You agreed, and began dating her about six months after joining the Crux.

Because you had been aboard the Alcor for a year, you knew the crew was loud and prone to get drunk. You had never liked to drink, preferring to quietly sip a small glass of dandelion wine while sitting next to Beidou while she drank a few beers and talked with her crew.

It was now the one year anniversary of when you had left Liyue Harbor, and conveniently, the Alcor was anchored there for a bit for a supplies run, imports drop off, and exports pickup. While out and about with Beidou, you had seen your ex in the wharf. They were about to come and talk to you, when you had pointed them out to Beidou. Beidou had slipped her arm around your waist, glaring at your ex, who glared back and turned heel to walk away.

Now, you sipped your wine beside Beidou, deep in thought. The loud atmosphere wasn't helping your anxieties, and you couldn't get your ex's glare out of your head. You didn't even realize you were completely zoned out until Beidou raised her arm to sling it around your shoulders, after she noticed you were zoned out.

Your arms flew up to shield yourself, and you spilt wine all over the both of you. The cup clattered to the floor, but luckily no one else noticed what just happened.

Beidou's face dropped and she quickly picked up the cup, setting it back down on the table.

"Men!" she called out. "Y/n and I are turning in early tonight! Make sure you scallywags have this cleaned up by the morning!"

The crew cheered their goodnights, raising their beers to their captain and her first mate. Beidou smiled, slipped an arm around your waist, and led you back to your guys' shared quarters.

"Alright doll, what happened just now?"

She closed the door behind her and sat on the bed next to you, looking at you with a certain softness that made you melt.

"I'm.. I'm sorry, I was just thinking of my ex, and how we saw them earlier, and I couldn't get their glare out of my head.. and I left them exactly a year ago.. I don't know why I flinched away from yo-"

Beidou cut you off by taking both of your hands into hers.

"Y/n, don't say sorry! You know, your ex wouldn't stand a chance against even my weakest crew member. They will never hurt you again."

"I don't doubt that for a second," you said, a small smile growing on your face, "Thank you for taking me in, Beidou."

"No, the pleasure is all mine. I couldn't ask for a better first mate. You're safe now, okay?" she smiled, squeezing your hands.

You looked into her eyes for a moment before throwing your arms around her. She squeezed you back, kissing your head.

"C'mon, let's shower and get this wine off of us." she giggled.

You laughed. "Yeah, let's."

Kaeya had told you his backstory, but you never mentioned yours. You just weren't ready to talk about it. Your parents had never been great, you always walked on eggshells around everyone, and everyone was all too rough with you, emotionally and physically.

You had met Kaeya in the tavern one night, while trying to drink away what you were feeling. Kaeya had noticed how obliterated you were and let Diluc know he was taking you to stay at the Knights Headquarters, and would keep an eye on you. The rest was history, and now you and Kaeya had been dating for a little over a year.

Kaeya had told you his backstory on Monday. That same day later on, you had a run in with your parents at Blanche's, where they had yelled at you for deciding to become a Knight, and proceeded to pick you apart from your very core.

In turn, you had been drinking a little more than usual for the entire week. You seemed more withdrawn and just not fully there. And it all came to a head when you were laying in bed next to Kaeya.

He went to put his arm over you, a loving gesture, but your arms came up on instinct to shield yourself. He sighed loudly.

"You're scared of me."

"Oh Archons- I didn't mean to- no, I swear it isn't-"

"You've been acting all angry and cold ever since I told you about my roots. I thought you would be the one who didn't leave me after I told them."

"No, Kaeya- please, just let me explain!"

"I'm listening."

You began to hesitantly tell him about your parents. His face grew angrier and angrier every time you told him another thing your parents had done to you.

"I'll kill them. I had no idea that that happened though. I'm sorry for assuming."

"It's alright, Kaeya. I didn't even consider that you might think I was acting weird because of where your confession."

"I swear they'll never get near you again, alright? You're safe now. It's alright."

He pulled you into him, wrapping you up in his strong arms and putting his legs over yours, making you feel protected and safe.

"No one will hurt you, not on my watch. I love you, Y/n."

"I love you too, Kaeya. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"No need for apologies, you were gonna tell me when you were ready. Now let's get some sleep, that dandelion wine I downed earlier is starting to get to me."

You giggled, burying your head further into his chest.

"Alright. Goodnight, Kaeya."

"Night, prince/ess."

You and Diluc had been dating for a few months now, you had met when he had needed to hire a new bartender, and you volunteered your mixing skills to the Angel's Share. You had caught his eye immediately, and he had asked you out on a date soon after you began your work there.

Your ex wasn't a kind person, to say the least, so you had been hesitant to say yes. You assured Diluc that this was just because your ex was unkind to you, but you had never mentioned physical harm. You hadn't wanted to worry him.

You were sitting on the couch with Diluc, his arm slung over your shoulders while you stared into the crackling flames of the fire burning before you. Diluc wasn't paying attention, as he was reading a book in his free hand.

He raised his arm up, attempting to adjust to a more comfortable position, but you misread this. Your arms were shielding your face in an instant, and Diluc was looking at you with a shocked and concerned face that quickly morphed to anger.

"I'm going to kill him." he growled/

You lowered your arms and looked down, avoiding looking him in the eye.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that."

"Did he hit you??"

"I, um, didn't want to worry you."

"Barbatos.. and this domestic abuser is just, what, roaming around Mondstat? No punishment for the pain he put you through?"

"I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want him to come and hurt me. I also didn't want to cause any trouble."

Diluc rubbed a hand over his face, before wrapping you in a hug.

"You're safe here, alright? I will never lay a hand on you to hurt you. I won't let anyone else hurt you either, okay?"

"Thank you.." your eyes welled up with tears, "I thought you would be upset that I didn't tell you."

"No, never. It's a hard thing to talk about. If you'd like, I have connections. We can have him arrested."

"I don't want to cause trouble.."

"You won't. He won't be able to hurt anyone else this way. But we can discuss this later. Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"That'd be nice. Thanks, Diluc."

"You're welcome, angel. Tell me if anyone hurts you again, alright? I'll protect you."

"Will do. I love you."

"I love you too."

[absolutelyfizzing]

unwanted feelings

james potter x reader

description - You'd had a crush on James Potter for years and when he kisses Lily Evans in front of you, you are heart broken. Later you find that he didn't actually feel as you expected and he explains himself.

warnings - some angst, unsure reader, fem pronouns, self doubt, negative self talk, not eating for a day cause reader is avoiding someone

word count - 2800

A/N - so this one isn't my best work by far but i wrote it so looks like its getting posted. i don't know why all of my reader inserts lately are so fem and sort of bubbly, i guess it's sort of what i'm aiming for for myself right now but i'm sorry if it maybe isn't coming off as relatable.

MASTERLIST

Your throat tightened in anxiety as you watched James zoom around the pitch. He was reckless when he was playing quidditch and it was one of the things that made him great at the game and an excellent captain. It was also the thing that nearly gave you a heart attack every time you watched him play. You went to every one of his games and you always wore something of his with his colors when you were in the stands. You were stood up on your seat and a slightly bored looking Remus sat to your right, reading from a book you didn't recognize. You'd thought that Sirius playing would be enough to keep him interested but sports was just not something he enjoyed watching. You were usually that way as well but whenever James was playing, suddenly you were the most intent spectator in the stands.

You were more worried than you should have been. More worried than what was appropriate for a friend to be. That's what you were, friends. That had been reinforced many times by the shaggy haired boy and you tried desperately to get it through your head before you embarrassed yourself one of these days. Sometimes though, you just couldn't help it.

Really you might have thought he reciprocated if you didn't know any better. You often got comments on what an attractive couple you guys were but each time it was quickly corrected by James. Normally along the lines of 'Oh god no, we are just friends. Purely platonic' , sometimes followed by a shudder or a gag even. It upset you every time to no end but you played along. You rarely, if ever, contributed to the shooting down of any feelings but that was never noticed by the man you had feelings for.

You'd had a crush on him since you were probably in your second year and now you were coming to the middle of your seventh. There were a million times that you almost said something but every time there was a reminder that you were not the one he had eyes for. It usually took the shape of disgust at the thought of dating you or commentary as he pined over the Evans girl who you felt you could never compete with. How could you when she was just perfect. You saw her to the left of you as she stood in the stands as well and your hands shook with insecurity before looking back toward the game. Your heart raced nearly as quickly as James did around the pitch and you prayed that the snitch would be caught soon so that you could get rid of the stress surrounding you. You felt a hand on your right shoulder and you looked over to find Remus had stood and was looking at you caringly.

"Are you alright, Y/N?" He asked softly and you tried your very best to soften your gaze and calm your stance so you appeared less concerned with someone that you shouldn't have that much interest in in the first place.

"Of course I am. When am I not?" You smiled before looking out at the pitch.

"When youre watching the guy you're in love with play a dangerous game that you don't like." He stated simply in response to the question you meant to be rhetorical and your eyes widened.

"I don't know what youre talking about." You nearly whispered and Remus smiled.

"I'm not gonna tell anyone Y/N but its not exactly subtle. It probably doesn't help that I know the look on your face because it's how I feel too watching Sirius play." He was still smirking but your anxiety was far from eased.

"Oh god, does he know?" You asked scaredly, terrified that the answer would be yes and you would have to stop spending time with him.

"Shockingly, no." You sighed out in relief but Remus continued. "You should tell him though or else he might end up moving on."

"What do you mean? There's nothing for him to move on from. Everyone knows he's in love with Evans and he has made it pretty clear that he is opposed to being anything more than a friendly relationship with me." You choked out, struggling with the words leaving your lips but knowing them to be true.

"I mean he has a minor crush on Evans but it's nothing compared to the annoyingly huge crush he has on you. He's probably just overcompensating for the fact that he's insecure and doesn't want you to reject him."

"Why are you telling me this?" You asked sincerely. You were friends with Remus as you were with the rest of the marauders but it was nothing compared to the friendship they held within their group. You knew Remus was more loyal to James than to you so you couldn't understand why, if it was true, Remus would be telling you at all.

"Because he is trying desperately to move on seeing as he is under the impression that you aren't into him and I'd hate to see him throw something away that could be really good for him." Remus smiled gently and you looked at him gratefully.

"I really appreciate you telling me and all but I just don't think I can believe you. I can't even count how many times he has made a big show of not liking me. I love him too much to ruin what we have and I know that if I confessed and it went bad that I would lose him all together. I would rather have him in my life in a way that hurts than not have him in it at all." You stated sadly and Remus sighed but nodded in understanding.

"I get it but just know that I'm being honest and pretty soon he is going to give up on it. I just want to see you both happy but if its too big of a leap, I understand. That's exactly the excuse he tells the rest of us too."

Suddenly cheers erupted from the stands, cutting your conversation with Remus off as everyone ran to rush the pitch. The snitch had been caught and gryffindor won. You were excited for James but you were also a little terrified to walk onto the pitch to see him with the now conflicted thoughts running through your head. Your thoughts were stopped by the image in front of you which was causing the whole crowd to cheer. James had pulled Lily Evans into a kiss in his excitement and your heart stopped. You felt nausea rise in your throat and Remus caught your eye with a sympathetic look. You didn't look at him for longer than a second and you ran off the pitch with tears streaming down your face. You found your way up to your dorm, pushing yourself to get there quickly before the common room filled with students celebrating their victory. James was always one to love attention so he would be getting crazy after the game which he did just about every time they won.

When you made it to your bed, you hurried under the covers, throwing the shirt you were wearing which belonged to James onto the floor. You felt your heart clench at the despair you felt. You wanted to be upset at Remus for getting your hopes up but you knew he was sincere in his want to help. Still you felt that you would probably not be able to face James in the weeks to come. Maybe, given a little time, you could be around him and not be upset at the world for taking away your chance with him. As you laid in your bed, you stared at the ceiling. You felt tears streaming down your face and you grew angry at yourself. He didn't owe you anything, he wasn't into you. That wasn't his fault and it was so unfair of you to expect anything more from him when your feelings were not his responsibility.

You weren't sure how long you laid there but you could hear the party start and end in the common room. It must have been late. Sleep wouldnt come though, you could just feel your heart continue to break and you were stuck in a loop of self pity. You made the decision that the following days would be spent away from James if you could at all help it. That was probably what he wanted anyway and it was the only way that you would get over the pain you were feeling. At some point your roomates entered your dorm and sleep overtook you for a few restless hours.

When you woke up, the sun was barely on the rise. You hurried up and got dressed and ready. You were planning on getting to breakfast early to avoid running into any of the marauders. You found your plans were not going how you wanted when you entered the great hall to find a head of red hair next to a mop of black. Your throat tightened and you quickly moved to turn and head out of the great hall. You heard a familiar voice call your name but you rushed out before you could give it too much thought. You knew that if you let him try to convince you, you would end up having a very upsetting breakfast with your best friend and his new lover. You would rather avoid breakfast.

Throughout the day, avoiding James was proving to be harder than you had thought it would be. You had many of your classes with him and you even sat next to him in a few. He was insistently trying to get you to open up about why you were suddenly so closed off to him but you remained shut off, reassuring him that nothing was wrong and you were just a little tired from the game the day before. You avoided lunch for the same reason as you had avoided breakfast and you felt yourself starting to get a bit lightheaded. Your afternoon was spent avoiding James but soon he was preoccupied with Lily anyway.

You were hid in a corner of the library when a cough alerted you of someone's presence. You looked up to find the very eyes you hadn't wanted to see.

You pushed it down with a gulp and smiled a bit at him, trying desperately to keep the tears at bay but they were growing harder to hold back after keeping everything pent up all day. It probably didn't help that you were hungry and therefor a bit more emotional. You could feel the tears sitting in your eyes, waiting for something to go wrong so they had an excuse to escape you.

"I don't know what I did wrong." He mumbled while looking at the floor in front of you and you took a deep breath.

"There's nothing wrong James, I promise. It's just been a long day." You smiled and your heart picked up speed.

"Since when did we lie to each other?" He questioned and your heart stopped. You were left unsure how to respond.

"Since the truth would cause more damage than good." You spoke honestly. At this he looked up at you and your eyes met. A tear left you and James immediately moved to comfort you but you tried to move away, standing quickly to evade him. You regretted it as spots filled your vision, the lack of food catching up to you. You know that you turned a bit green for a moment because James looked slightly scared.

"Y/N I dont know whats wrong but you look like you should be getting to the hospital wing. You don't look well."

Before you could answer you felt your vision blacken and your legs give out before your consciousness left you completely.

When you woke up, you knew you were in the hospital wing. It smelled sterile and the bed was stiff underneath you. When you started to wake madam pomfrey came to check on you.

"You can't go around with an empty stomach like that again, do you hear me?" She scolded, though her eyes were soft. You nodded solemnly. "I was alerted that you hadn't been to the great hall to eat all day, you have to know that isn't good for you. I'm gonna have a prefect watch out for you the next couple days to make sure you're eating at meal times. Understood?" She asked again and once more you nodded before leaning back and sighing. You looked at your surroundings and were surprised to see the black haired boy next to your bed fast asleep. Your heart took off again and you felt trapped by your environment. As anxiety swirled around in your chest, James had woken up a bit.

"You're awake." James sighed, laced with relief. You still wouldn't make eye contact with him.  You felt the bed dip as he sat on it and you looked up to watch him put his head in his hands as he leaned over. You felt guilt fill your chest more than it already had from hating that you felt any claim over the man in front of you. You knew you were in the wrong and the last thing you wanted was to cause him any pain. "Remus talked to me." He almost whispered.

At that moment, you wished you could have apparated to anywhere else in the world. You looked back down at your lap and tears were once again brought to your eyes. You felt betrayal that Remus would reveal your feelings to James.

"I'm sorry." You apologized and you fiddled with your fingers.

"Why are you the one apologizing, I'm the one whos behaved poorly." He assures and you shake your head.

"That's not fair to yourself. You're allowed to want to be with whomever you want and my feelings should have no effect on that. You've made it clear for years that you weren't interested in me and it is my fault that I couldn't take a hint. I'm so sorry." You gushed out and tears started to fall from your eyes. You felt James get up from your bed and you prepared him to leave but instead you felt arms wrap around you and a kiss came to your head.

"Y/N I have had feelings for you for years. I was just always too scared for myself to even consider that you might feel the same." He whispered out but you felt only a different kind of pain. Even though he had now admitted his feelings, he was still dating Lily. Not you. Almost as if he could hear your thoughts he spoke quietly. "I broke it off with Evans." You pulled away immediately.

"What? Why would you do that?" You asked quickly and before he had a chance to answer you feared the worst. "Oh god is it because of me? James please dont let my feelings have any bearing on who you want to date, I can't stand the thought of being the reason you broke up. Even if we do have feelings for each other, you deserve a chance with Lily if that's what you want."

"It was mutual, actually. She understood that I had feelings for you and she said she had a crush on someone else. It just seemed like I had kissed her a bit rashly on the quidditch pitch and we agreed that we shouldn't have gotten together in the first place. It was only a day anyway." He reassured as he explained himself and you calmed a bit.

"So what does this mean." You got out, almost inaudibly.

"It means that, if you'll have me, I'd like to take you out on a date." He stated as if it were the simplest thing in the world and you almost couldn't believe your ears. Before you were even thinking you were nodding quickly, causing spots to once again fill your vision and James grabbed your shoulders to stabilize you before you both laughed. He pulled you by your shoulders toward him and he caught your lips in a kiss that somehow expressed all of the years of repressed feelings. When he pulled away he smiled at you and sat back on your bed. He spent the rest of the day with you in the hospital wing talking about all of the places he was going to take you in the coming weeks.

[acciojaeyun]

grace and light | draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x filial!reader warnings: verbal and physical abuse. prompts: "you're okay. you're okay. we're okay."

a/n: thank you for this request, anon! this is very angst but at the same time reassuring. i'm sorry if it took me a while before fulfilling this. i'm also sorry if this is a bit short than expected. :(

also, this fic mentions domestic abuse. if you are experiencing any of this at your home, please don't hesitate to tell anyone you trust for lawful actions to be done accordingly. these actions are not acceptable in any setting and should be dealt with the law.

please, stay safe.

summary: draco was a boy who never saw the brightness in darkness. that was until he had seen life through his sister's eyes.

Draco Malfoy was sucked out of life from his very own eyes. It almost seemed though as if he didn't find any reason to live anymore. The moment he'd reached his sixth year of schooling, he had witnessed his life falling apart right in front of him.

All his life, he had looked up at his greatest influence - his father. Whom, in every thing, had always been impressive in his eyes. Such is the reason he had attempted to befriend the Boy who Lived, because of the belief of his father that Harry Potter was a better Voldemort, a great Dark wizard, a hope for ex-Death Eaters.

It would've stayed that way. Living in a world of envy rather than the thirst for fame. And in envy had he seen himself copying his father's cold and contemptuous manner to everyone aside his inner circle.

But the impression of Lucius on Draco was soon fading, as he believed Harry Potter. The same boy whom he also held a great dislike towards - it almost seems unreal for Draco to believe him. But he believed him, and it brought upon him conflicts within his values and morales.

And it certainly did not help when his sister, Y/N, was a Gryffindor. And she seemed to get under Lucius' skin most of the times and it was always unintentional.

Y/N lived in the shadows of Draco Malfoy. She was usually regarded as the black sheep of the family, much second to Sirius Black, as she was a Gryffindor in a bloodline of Slytherins.

When Harry had thwart their father's attempt of murder, Y/N had been the receiving point of Lucius' aggressive behaviour. Draco had to come hours after Y/N had been hit across the cheek before his trial for imprisonment when he was seen by a myriad of Ministry officials with the aid of Albus Dumbledore.

"Don't tell me what a disgrace is, Narcissa. When we have the existence of a daughter who betrayed our family by siding with Potter!" Lucius screamed at the top of his lungs, hand trying so hard not to beat his wife out of frustration and anger over her accusations.

"Lucius, this is not about Y/N -"

"Why, would you think I wouldn't have saved the prophecy, had Y/N sided with us?! She told them about my mission! The Dark Lord just needed his hands on the prophecy!"

When Narcissa tried to defend her daughter to the words of his husband and Y/N's father, Lucius had lifted his hand as an outburst, aiming his hands on Narcissa when Y/N had leaped forward in order to be the recipient of the hit, to shield her mother from what is bound to happen.

Draco ran downstairs as he heard shrieking from Y/N and his mother. And while he and Y/N never really spoke to each other that much besides filial civility, he was deeply concerned of her sister in ways he couldn't explain nor would even try to comprehend.

"Expelliarmus!" Draco shouted over the commotion, catching Lucius' attention who was about to torture Y/N (out of his piled anger and frustration over her), when his wand was shot away from his grasp, hitting the organ at the farthest corner of the Drawing Room.

"Draco!" Lucius turned towards him, eyes widening at what his favourite child had done. "Draco, stay out of this." He warned through gritted teeth.

"No, you stay out of this." Draco spat, running towards his mother who cried relentlessly at the half-conscious body of Y/N laying on the cold, checkered tiles of the drawing room.

Tears blurred his sight over what he had seen, and as he met his mother's eyes, he nodded at her for her to bring Y/N towards whatever Narcissa finds safe for them to stay in temporarily.

"I'll follow," Draco murmured, anger boiling in his chest as he desperately so tried not to lash out his anger on the person he had looked up at to for all his life.

"Draco -" Lucius started, hands raising up as if in surrender to the boy.

"No, you don't get to talk to me, father." He cut him off, pointing his wand at his father as he took strides backwards. Cheeks dampened over frustrated tears strolling down his cheeks, he never knew that a promise of a victorious life brought upon by the glory of darkness would bring him and his family into a point where he had his wands directed at his father who had first taught him magic in the first place.

And when Lucius was about to say something, everything happened abruptly before the younger Slytherin. Lucius was seized from their house, and was sent to Azkaban before Draco could ever realise it.

Now, he finds himself in the cellar of the Manor, with Narcissa leaving her children at the cellar for a moment of clarity to shine through her as she went upstairs to the Drawing Room.

Draco's arms cradled Y/N's limp body. Her cheek reddening as Lucius' hit was starting to form hues of reds on it. He was shaking, visibly shaking, at what has happened.

His mind started cursing himself up to no end. Miserably not justifying his aversion towards her sister out of the Gryffindor prejudice their father had held against her.

The boy couldn't find in himself the will to cry, but his heart was breaking at whatever had come upon him and his family. His father gone, his mother distraught, his family pariahs among the Death Eaters, and Y/N, unconscious in his grip.

But when Y/N had stirred in her state, Draco's eyes immediately flickered over to her figure. And when his scared eyes met that of Y/N's lidded with fear and pain, he had broken into tears.

"Shh," Draco hushed as he saw tears welling up her eyes as she tried to take a hold of the last courage right in front of her - her brother, Draco.

"I'm here, I'm here," Draco said through a string of hiccups and cries, he brought his lips down to her forehead. "Y/N, you're safe, you're okay." He repeated.

Cries were what Y/N could muster alone, breaking Draco's heart more than he expected. But as her cries died down and was soon replaced by a staggered - though stable - breathing, Draco spared another look at his sister, giving her the first smile she had seen from him. And for Y/N, it didn't matter if it was amidst a raging war.

When Y/N opened her mouth to speak, Draco ran his hands through her hair, not minding if his legs had gone numb over the stationary position. All that matters was he could give the slightest comfort he knew his sister needed.

"You're okay. You're okay. We're okay."

It was at that moment when Draco realised the light beaming right in front of him. Though ironically amidst the darkness starting to erupt in the Wizarding World, he had seen the light carrying on through Y/N's shortness of breath.

As she tries to breath, Draco had found purpose. In her firm grip on his elbows, with the courage she exuded the moment she stepped in to shield Narcissa, all the darkness and light reconciled in his chest.

Draco was changed in an instant. And he knew he had to take care of her mother and Y/N.

And those were all that he carried - even to the extent of accepting death at the expense of a task Draco knew that Voldemort believed he would fail, as he was, in the Dark Lord's words, "just like his father."

Conflicted, though driven by the love for her mother and Y/N, as well as his sister's courage and life which she didn't know she had given him - he finds himself ready to experience terror and despair, he finds himself willing to crumble, if that meant keeping Y/N safe.

[gnsaein]

[ - ... ]

that voice.. it couldn't be. could it?....wh-why was he? she hadn't heard that he was back in town. how was she supposed to explain this? haerin died years before she moved into town. she had to think of something. and quick. "uh. its none of your concern" she stated trying to disguise her voice, fixing her outfit, and turning her back to saein hoping he didn't recognize anything about her.

[ to: @gneunbi ] / TW. themes of death

for all of the time he has spent in the cemetery, saein felt more ghostly than anything that might have been lingering there. quietly walking through the aisles, pausing to kneel and clear the leaves away from the graves, he would read the names inscribed in stone and ask the things he was too afraid to ask the living.

DEAR SECRET, TODAY I LEARNED HOW TO FALL INTO A GLASS CAGE OF WATER. IT'S JUST A LEAP OF FAITH, EUNHA SAYS. SOMEONE WILL BE WAITING FOR ME TO ARRIVE AT THE BOTTOM AND BRING ME OUT, WRAP ME UP FROM THE COLD. IT FELT LIKE LANDING IN ICE. IT WAS DARK AND FREEZING, AND FOR THE FIRST FEW MOMENTS THAT I SANK, I THOUGHT I SAW HAERIN AGAIN. I THINK, WHEN THEY BROUGHT ME OUT, THAT I WAS CRYING.

if there were such things as ghosts, then he thought he was walking proof of it, haunting the last place he'd seen her with the same plea: why? why? why?

he returns, as all good ghosts do. of course he comes to see her again. he doesn't need to follow a voice to this part of the mountain; he had been coming here for a long time, and he still knows every stone like the back of his hand, every tree no matter the new age-lines in their bark. he used to think that this was god, these hollows in the tree trunks like unblinking eyes and these gnarled limbs that hang over the path to the cemetery, like arms trying to gather him close to its chest—to soothe, to calm, because if there was a god then he wanted it to be warm. he wanted it to walk with him up the mountain, holding his hand.

DEAR SECRET, FIRST DAY OF AUTUMN. I KEEP WONDERING IF THERE IS STILL SOMEONE BACK HOME TO CLEAN THE LEAVES FROM HER NAME.

he walks in on an answer today: perhaps there was.

saein looks at this stranger in front of haerin’s name with something that borders on hostility. "who are you?"

he has seen others here, of course. he's seen her parents, he's seen that siwoo. but something about this one's demeanor, their stiff voice, the way they instantly turn their back on him—

"you're here for her?" he puts himself next to them, glancing over haerin’s gravestone for any signs of tampering. i'm sorry, he tells her. i'm sorry i haven't been here. now strangers think they can just come and look at you. he kneels wordlessly to brush the leaves away from her name, coldly regarding the stranger at his side. "i've never seen you here before."

[thenovelartist]

Mistaken Drink; Drunk Mistake - Tears of Themis

Up next in the "Drunk Wedding" series, we have Artem. Enjoy ;D

When Artem woke up that morning, he was in a shocking amount of pain. He didn’t want to move despite the fact he knew he needed to get up for work.

Regrettably, he forced himself up into a sitting position, only to instantly feel nauseous. He was going to have to call in sick wasn’t he?

“Artem? Are you okay?”

The sweet voice rung in his ears. Before he could even place where he’d heard that voice before, he felt a cool hand on his back. It took him far too long to realize that said hand was touching his skin, making him realize he wasn’t in a shirt.

Why wasn’t he in a shirt? He always slept in a shirt.

However, before he could think too much about it, a new wave of nausea hit him. He braced himself against the headboard of his bed, leaning his forehead on his arms in hopes that the feeling would pass.

“Do you need water?” the voice asked. A lovely, sweet, feminine voice.

“No,” he muttered weakly.

There was a pause, in which time the intense symptoms faded to manageable levels

“Are you dizzy?” the feminine voice asked. “Do you want medicine?”

“No,” he replied.

However, now he was very curious as to who the owner of that voice was. He couldn’t stand it anymore; he had to know. So, pushing past the pain, he slowly lifted his head up to get a look at the person who was next to him.

Oh, it was his work partner.

That was the only thought he had before he felt sick again and buried his face back in his arms, blocking the light from seeping in.

And then the nausea hit him like a truck.

“Artem? Are you sure you’re okay?”

He couldn’t answer. But he most certainly was not.

…

Fifteen minutes later, after a bathroom break that turned into him emptying the contents of his stomach and feeling all the better for it, he was laying back on his bed, eyes closed and arms draped over his face to keep the light out. He was still shirtless at the moment, but that was less because of choice and more because he could barely move from his spot to the closet to grab one.

As for work, he was fortunate enough to have realized it was a weekend. He had time to recover.

He heard a set of footsteps enter his room, and despite knowing better, he opened his eyes to watch Rosa enter, glass of water in one hand and something else in the other.

With his headache, he draped his arms over his face again. While it was originally to keep the light out of his eyes, it also doubled to cover his blush. The question of “why she was in his house” had yet to be answered.

So did the question of “why she was in his shirt”. But he could only think on everything for so long before his headache warned him to calm down.

“I brought you some medicine,” Rosa said. The space beside him on the bed sank under her weight. And while he wanted to warn her that her being here in a bedroom with him, he wasn’t particularly in a position to speak at the moment, figuratively and literally. “Are you feeling better?”

He paused to think on it. “Possibly.”

“Possibly,” she whispered to herself. Despite being out of it, he could hear the resigned smile in her tone. “Do you need anything? Or just rest?”

Honestly, he needed a lot of things. Answers, specifically.

Slowly, he removed his arms from his head so he could open his eyes and see Rosa. The light still seemed over-bright, but it wasn’t as bad as before.

She gave him a smile, and suddenly, he felt warm all over again. “Good morning.”

His heart gave a funny leap in his chest. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Her expression fell to a concerned one. “For what?”

He wasn’t fully sure. Everything, maybe.

Yes, everything.

But before he could say it, she reached forward to brush his bangs back from his eyes, and words died in his throat. “You don’t have to be sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry, too.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “For what?”

“For last night,” she said.

He pursed his lips together, trying to think of anything she had to be sorry about, but his memories seemed too hazy to recall anything. “To be frank,” he said, voice hoarse. “I can’t remember last night.”

When her eyes widened in surprise, it took him a long moment to realize it wasn’t the good kind. And when she smiled, it was tense, which caused his own stomach to tighten up again. “Well…” she began. “Um… you really can’t remember anything at all?”

He paused, trying long and hard to think back to last night. “We were at a party,” he answered. “For the firm.”

“Yes,” she confirmed with a nod. “There was that.”

The more he thought on it, the more he could recall the scene. Themis Law Firm had decided to hold a party for its associates to celebrate a major court win for a big client. It had taken months of research and many staff members, but in the end, it had come out in their favor. It had been Celestine’s idea to throw a party for the sake of the employees, congratulating them and allowing them to have a moment to enjoy themselves.

Artem had been there, of course, enjoying the atmosphere and the company of Rosa, who had sat next to him at the bar while the others grew roudy around them.

But that was all he could recall.

“What happened after?” he asked, giving up his futile mission of recalling anything further.

“I think… my best guess is the bartender mixed up someone’s double-shot mixed drinks with your mocktails,” she answered.

Ahh, that would explain it. He grimaced, letting his eyes shut again as he dragged a tired hand over his face. How did he not catch that?

“Are you here because you helped me home?” he asked, already knowing what her answer would be.

“Well… I mean… yes,” she answered, hesitantly.

He opened his eyes again to look back up at her. “Why didn’t you go home?”

She turned bright red.

Oh no, that wasn’t his intention. He felt bashful just looking at her.

“I… kinda… was drunk myself,” she said, her blush not dying down as she turned her gaze away from him. “So, I fell asleep beside you.”

His face began to burn. Wait, she was beside him all night?

“Oh,” she said, looking down at her shirt which was actually his shirt which caused a second wave of embarrassment to crash down on him. “Sorry, I stole one of your shirts because my dress was stained from when someone fell and dumped a Bloody Mary on us. That’s why you’re shirtless, too. So you wouldn’t ruin your sheets. Which reminds me, are you cold? Do you want me to get you something?”

His mind had already come to a screeching halt hearing her explain, so starting it back up again so he could answer was a challenge. “I-I…”

Why was talking so hard?

“Yes.”

She gave him a nod. “Okay. I’ll grab one for you.”

With that, she turned her back to him, and he covered his face with his hands, silently wishing he could die and save him from this mortification.

When she returned, she helped him sit up again, and he slid on the plain shirt she’d given him.

“Thank you, for caring for me,” he eventually said, trying his very best to pull himself together. “If you give me a moment, I can give you a jacket to cover your dress and call a cab for you.”

She froze. “Uh…” She seemed to struggle to find words before turning a strained smile on him. “Well… there’s… actually another reason I hadn’t left yet.”

Artem’s brow knit together in confusion., but his gut sank like a stone with worry.

“Because…” The smile she gave him was overly-exaggerated, which worried him deeply. “We should really talk about what to do about our wedding certificate.”

Artem froze, the words somehow eluding him for a moment before registering in his mind all at once.

“I’m sorry. Our what?”

…

It seemed drinking wasn’t the only thing he did last night.

It was mid-morning now, and he was sitting at the table holding his second cup of coffee while he stared at the document in front of him. And he still couldn’t believe it. Because not only had he and Rosa had decided to get married while they were drunk.

But Celestine witnessed.

This had to be the most embarrassing thing he’d ever done and likely the most embarrassing thing he would do in his entire life.

“I’m pretty sure it’s legal,” Rosa said, taking a seat beside him. She was still in his shirt, slowly killing him at the sight of her in it, sipping on her own mug of coffee.

“It is,” he lamented. “Unfortunately.”

“You say that like being married to me is a bad thing.”

His heartrate skyrocketed as he struggled for words. “No! That’s not what I—”

Before he could finish, he took in the sight of her sniggering over her coffee mug. “I was just teasing.”

Despite that, he wasn’t fully able to relax. Because if given the opportunity, he’d love to be married to the woman beside him. However, that wasn’t likely, considering he couldn’t even so much as confess his feelings to this woman.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll start on the annulment, then. It should be granted easily seeing as we were both intoxicated at the time.”

“Do we have to, though?”

He froze, shocked, then confused. “What?”

She sighed. “Celestine warned me you were this dense,” she whispered under her breath.

While Artem was still processing those words, Rosa turned in her seat to face him head on, looking him straight in the eyes. “I love you.”

Whatever Rosa proceeded to say was lost on Artem. He was frozen, completely caught off guard by such a confession. He… he’d thought she wasn’t interested. She never seemed to respond to his advances the way he’d anticipated she would. So why…

How…

He was so confused.

“And I know you try hard to get my attention,” she said, her words finally registering in his mind. “I thought we were getting closer, too. But…” She looked down, disappointment written all over her face. “I must have been wrong.”

“You love me?”

She turned her wide eyes back on him, and suddenly, she was smiling again. “You really are dense, aren’t you?”

…

Back at work, Artem was working on the annulment.

It was… disappointing, in a way. He and Rosa had had a long talk about a relationship between them and where they each saw it going, and what they landed on was marriage in the future. She’d suggested keeping the marriage certificate just in case. However, Artem was adamant that this would notbe how they married. So, annulment it was until they saw fit to come together, sober, as husband and wife.

Which, Artem hoped wouldn’t be too far off in the future.

“So, how’s married life?”

Artem looked up to see Celestine grinning down at him. He fixed her with a stern glare as he picked up the wedding certificate. “You actually witnessed this sham of a marriage?”

“I did!” she cried, grin never leaving her face. “It was a sight to behold. I’m so proud of you for making the first move and asking her to marry you, even if you were drunk when you did. Maybe you and alcohol do get along after all.”

Artem sighed, suddenly feeling quite tired. “And how sober were you for the thought of stopping us to not occur to you?”

“Oh, I was perfectly sober.”

Artem nearly dropped the document. “What?”

With a laugh, she winked at him. “By the way, Rosa istaking on your last name, right? So that I know to give her the proper change of name paperwork.”

Leaning back in his chair with a heavy sigh, Artem wondered if a hangover could reappear days after drinking. Because his head was sure spinning right about now.

[ghostbustermelanieking]

67 for the kiss prompts 👀

of course it's another safehouse fic! warning for some self-loathing on the parts of jon and martin. 

67. When One Stops The Kiss To Whisper “I’m Sorry, Are You Sure You-” And They Answer By Kissing Them More.

Jon's on the phone with Basira in the other room. Martin can hear the rise and fall of his voice through the walls. He halfway wishes he'd said yes to Jon's offer to put her on speaker—he wants to know how bad it is. Wants to know exactly how badly he fucked up when he followed Peter into those tunnels (in more than just the obvious ways). 

Jon's said it wasn't his fault. Said that this morning, over the eggs he'd scrambled on a whim that were going cold on Martin's plate, covering Martin's hand with his: "It wasn't your fault, Martin. It wasn't. I-it wasn't even just the Not-Sasha, it… Trevor and Julia…" And then he'd stopped, a pained expression on his face, and Martin knew he wasn't the only one feeling guilty for everything that happened at the Panopticon the day before. 

The reality of Jon being here is still so new, so strange, after not talking for months, for a year, what with the coma, and the Lonely… Martin doesn't think he ever even had Jon to his flat before this; he thinks he suggested it once, after a drink one night, if Jon wanted to come back and have some tea, and Jon had politely said no, thank you, with a look in his eyes that made Martin think maybe he was thinking about all the kidnappings. So, yes, this is the first time Jon's ever been here. After months of silence, months of Martin talking himself out of going down the hall and talking to Jon, telling Jon how glad he was that he's alive, how sorry he was that he couldn't stay, how much he hated this, every bit of it… After it all, Jon came for him. Peter's dead, and there's no reason for them to stay away now. 

It's a relief, beyond what Martin will ever be able to articulate, but it's still strange, after all this time. Waking up in his bed to find Jon lying on the other side, stiff and tentative under the covers. To find Jon in the kitchen after a shower, making eggs and tea. To have Jon halfway holding his hand. Even after everything—after that period before the Unknowing where they were really sort of friends… this is surreal in a way Martin can't really explain.

Jon had actually held his hand all the way out of the Lonely, all the way back to his flat. Had reached for it over the expanse of Martin's mattress and held on. Martin doesn't remember him letting go. He doesn't remember ever wanting him to. It's a good surreal, he thinks. It's good. 

Jon comes out of the kitchen, now, his hand clutched around his phone, his face grim. Martin startles a little, his hands clenching together in his lap. "H-how was it?" he says. "Is it… d-do they have any sign of…" (Basira had filled them in on Daisy last night.)

"No, no, no sign." Jon sighs a little. Sits down on the couch beside Martin, so close their knees bump together. He doesn't meet Martin's eyes. 

Martin feels a habitual lump of worry rise in his throat. "You can tell me, Jon," he says, in case Jon is trying to shield him somehow. "It's… it's bad, isn't it?"

"I… yeah. Yeah, it's not good." Jon looks at him finally, his expression suggesting that’s all he’s going to say, like he’s going to try and protect Martin no matter what Martin says. “Basira… Basira says they’ll blame me,” he adds. “Again. She says they were already asking questions, they… sh-she said they’ll be looking for me again.”

" What? " Martin's aware his voice sounds insulted, and he is, on Jon's behalf, framed again for murders he didn't commit. (Well. Jon did kill Peter, but. Martin's not mourning that, not at all, he deserved it, and Peter isolated himself enough that the police shouldn't be looking for him. And the thought of Jon being blamed again for something he didn't even do…) "You didn't do anything, h-how can they blame you?"

Jon laughs a little, quiet bitterness in there. "It's easy. A-and it is my fault, sort of. I'm the one who antagonized Julia and Trevor. I'm the one who… who kept that stupid table, and then destroyed it and let that thing out. I'm the one who…" He stops. Winces, shakes his head a little. "I-it doesn't matter," he says. "Basira's sure they'll blame me. She says I need to get out of London." 

Martin latches onto that, his heart leaping in his throat. Maybe he has no right to be this concerned, considering he's holed himself up for months, ignoring Jon and working with Peter for a plan that didn't even do anything —but he can't help but panic at the idea of Jon leaving again, going somewhere else, somewhere where they can't keep him safe… Not that Jon isn't entirely self-sufficient, he's been fine all this time, he's saved Martin, and not that Martin's been doing a good job at all, considering everything, Jon came into the Lonely because of him and could've just as easily been lost, and it would've been his fault. But after everything… America, Ny-Alesund, the Unknowing, every time Jon went somewhere and Martin didn't, and something horrible happened, and Martin just… 

He tries to force the panic out of his voice, tries to speak levelly when he says, "Leave… leave London? And go where? "

"Scotland, apparently. Daisy has a safehouse that she… that she obviously won't be doing, and Basira said…" Jon swallows hard, looks away. "Well, she said I should leave right away. She said she would bring me the key here, and I should leave on the next train." 

"Oh," says Martin. A part of him is nearly shouting, Don't go, don't leave me here, but this is ridiculous, Jon has to go, and he can't ask… not after everything Jon's done… (But he doesn't want Jon to leave, he doesn't want to be alone again.) "I… y-yeah. Yeah, that's best," he says, because he can't, and he'd rather have Jon alive and somewhere else than arrested or dead,��again, and his throat is closing up a little. "If they're looking for you, you should leave as soon as possible." 

"Right," says Jon. "Right, a-and I would…" He's staring down at his hands, intently, like he's trying to find answers in the lines of his palms. Martin is thinking absently that he does that, too, and isn't it funny how many habits he and Jon share that he's never realized, when Jon looks up abruptly. He's got an expression that's almost shy on his face; he says, "I-I was wondering if you'd like to come with me."

They're quiet for a moment.. Martin's staring; he thinks he definitely might be staring. His mouth might be hanging open. Jon starts talking again, too fast and stammering and anxious: "O-obviously if you don't want to, th-there's no obligation, of course, i-it's just that I… well, I haven't seen you for such a long time, Martin, and w-we just started talking again, and I… I thought you might want t-to get out of here, maybe, the Institute, it's… and I don't want you to be alo—" 

Martin kisses him. Leans forward, just like that, and abruptly kisses Jon, cutting him off mid-sentence. Jon makes a little sound, a punched-out gasp, and his hand moves up, resting suddenly against Martin's jaw. 

It takes a moment for Martin to fully connect his actions— Jon just asked me to go to Scotland and You just kissed him —and he pulls away abruptly. "I-I'm sorry," he says wildly, thinking I should've asked, thinking Martin, you idiot, just because he followed you into the Lonely doesn't mean he wants to… 

Jon's looking at him. His eyes are dark and wet and full of some emotion Martin can't place, and he's just looking at him. His hand is still on Martin's jaw, his fingers warm against Martin's chilly skin. Martin's eyes dart to the side—to Jon's fingers, his bitten nails, resting against Martin's cheek—and then back to Jon. "I'm sorry," he says again, and Jon shakes his head, just a little. Rubs a thumb over Martin's cheek. 

The gesture is enough to make Martin want to break. Just shatter in a dozen little pieces inside. He's not sure what to say—his brain, wildly grasping, comes up with, "Are you sure you—" And Jon leans forward, just as abruptly as Martin did, and kisses him again. Kisses him gently, sweetly, with a sort of underlying desperation that sounds like it did in the Lonely last night. We need you. I need you. His hands are still on Martin's face. 

Martin makes a little sound of shock. Fumbles up with shaking hands to cover Jon's hand with his, to grasp it gently and desperately (the way Jon is kissing him) and not let go. Not this time.

Jon's the one to pull away, first, just far enough to rest his forehead against Martin's. He laughs a little, nervous energy, and doesn't let go of Martin's hand. "You don't need to apologize, Martin, you…" He laughs again, quietly. "I'm very sure. I am. I've been wanting to do that for… quite a long time."

"Oh," Martin says faintly, his thumb tracing the line of Jon's palm. "You have?"

Jon nods, his forehead thunking lightly against Martin's with the motion. Martin chuckles. "Me… me, too."

"Oh," Jon says softly. He squeezes Martin's hand. 

Martin looks down at their joined hands (on his knee, now), leaning into Jon a little. (Just a little.). "Yes," he says, and there is no tremble, no hint of hesitation in his voice. He's sure about this, maybe the surest he's been in a long time. "Yes, I'll go to Scotland with you."