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rosietrace · 8 months ago

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「 Perfectionist 」

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Central Character(s) ; 『 Elaine Rossignol, “Songbird Starlet” 』 | 『 Lucero Symphomia 』

Mentioned ; Vil Schoenheit | Coppelia Waltz

Pairing(s) ; Elaine & Lucero

【 All Ocs belong to their respective owners and will be credited at the end. 】

Synopsis: “They don't matter. No one matters. No one but us.”

Warning(s): rev i’m sorry if i fucked up lucero, kinda cute ngl, I suck at writing dialogue but what else is new, potentially ooc, there's like one vague reference to the Charles Dance phantom, kinda insecure Elaine near the end, potentially ooc

[ Apologies for any out of character moments ]

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“No, no, no! What exactly do you think we're doing? This is a theater production, not some low budget high school play!”

Lucero had been ruthless since the very start of the production for one of his many, many eclectic compositions; but that wasn't exactly new to the student body, especially those who were part of Pomefiore.

Vil had entrusted Lucero into taking the leadership role while production was still in the works— and while that guaranteed its success, it also had… consequences.

Preparations for opening night were all well and good, for the most part. Budgeting was never going to be much of a problem, if at all, and the set and costume designs were — in Rook's words — ‘second to none’.

The real problem, in the honorable opinions of many working on the stage play, was apparently Lucero himself.

The man didn't want perfection, he demanded it. No stone would be left unturned, and everything had to be in tip top shape; anything that wasn't made with the best materials, or of the highest quality would have to be replaced with something of better quality.

And that… wasn't even going into Lucero’s alleged ‘favoritism’.

Speaking of favoritism, Lucero looked off to the side for only a single moment, and behind his mask his eyes widened slightly. Then narrowed.

He strode, those crowding his path parting like magic. “Elaine,” he called out to the glasses-wearing spectacle holding far too many boxes than she should be capable of carrying.

“Oh- Lucero!” Elaine gleamed at him, her smile enigmatic. Contagious. “Do you need help with anything?”

Lucero ignored her question and followed up with one of his own. “What… exactly are you doing?” He questioned, vaguely gesturing to the stack of boxes in her hands.

Elaine beamed at him enthusiastically. “Well! As much as I like the chandelier the headmage provided for us for our production venue, I thought it was a little lackluster for the vision you had in mind, so—”

“No, no, Elaine,” Lucero cut her off, a hand on her shoulder to signal her to put down the boxes. “That isn't what I meant, dear.”

Puzzled, Elaine tilted her head slightly to the side. “Huh? What do you mean?”

With a huff, Lucero stated, “Elaine, dear, you're our lead actress. Our prima donna.”

“And I'm very thankful for that, Lucero! It's an honor.”

“Yes, yes, very much so, but—”

“But what?” A worried expression crossed her features. “Have… you found a better candidate?”

The mere thought made Lucero scoff. “Sevens above, no…”

“You, Elaine my dear, needn't concern yourself with matters that are under the responsibilities of everyone else.”

With eyebrows precariously knitted together in a manner Lucero silently believed to be adorable, Elaine asked, “but… why?”

“I’m not trying to bring any offense to you, Lucero, but I'm sure that the other students are in need of assistance because of the size of the production—”

“Having one less student helping them isn't going to kill them, Elaine dear,” Lucero offered his arm out to Elaine. And though she felt unsure of herself, she indulged him, accompanying him through a promenade through the venue.

“I still think it's a bit…”

“Rude? Believe me, my dear, it'd be a shock to them if you did help them.”

“Well, as the ‘prima donna’”— Elaine emphasized her point by putting the words in quotations —“shouldn’t I contribute in setting things up?”

That was a question often brought up by those that were brave — or audacious — enough to question Lucero and the rumored favoritism he had for Elaine.

In Lucero's point of view, he wanted to be honest with himself… Elaine's over-insistence in wanting to help made him want to dissect her and overanalyze everything about her mind.

Should she truly wish to be a star, Lucero fully and truly believed she didn't need to take on all the work she does on a regular basis; for Seven's sake, their first interaction took place when Elaine was in the middle of an errand.

Once again, he wanted to make that point clear to her. Real stars, true stars, made for the stage and captivated the eyes of their audience like it was the most natural thing in the world— they were the ones hoisted up on the pedestal. Not the ones building it.

They left the venue in astounding record time. Sure, Lucero could make out a brief conversation between Coppelia and another student, but that wasn't something he'd concern himself over, anyway.

“Lucero…” the famed producer never liked seeing Elaine frown. For someone as dazzling as her, he often imagined himself giving her reasons to smile brighter than a thousand suns— only to chastise himself for going off kilter in whatever he was supposed to focus on.

This was one of those moments. How he fantasized holding her face in his hands, speaking kind, soulful words that would ease her worries.

His hands, gloved and delicate, were brought to her face. His thumb brushed over her cheek, and he caught himself almost getting lost in her eyes.

He wondered if Elaine noticed, too.

“Lucero?” hearing his name from her lips was like hearing the hymns of the gods of music; a melody, a hallucination, a delusion Lucero would gladly lose himself to if he weren't so… himself.

“They don't matter, Elaine,” said Lucero. They were a few steps away from the venue Crowley provided for them. Anyone could see them.

Elaine kept her breath steady with a face so flushed it made her lose focus of what he actually said. Tried to focus, not on the way Lucero held her so gently, or how close he seemed to; but on the details of his mask.

The two of them both knew that the mask — and why Lucero wore it — was a touchy subject. Elaine never once asked about it, and Lucero was grateful for it.

She loved his mask, but she especially loved making masks for him. Hand painted and designed to suit Lucero to perfection, their initials in the inner parts of it.

When Lucero spoke again, her trance had crumbled apart. “They don't matter, Elaine,” Lucero repeated. “None of them matter. Not to you, not to me.”

“No one else matters. No one but us matters.”

She almost felt inclined to believe him. “I…”

“Elaine.”

“Lucero.”

“You don't need to burden yourself,” Lucero said to her, his voice so soft that if Elaine closed her eyes, she'd be convinced she was talking to someone else. “You do that far too much for your own good.”

He read her expression like the pages of a book he'd been immersed in for too long. But people need helping, he could envision her thinking.

With a gentle breath, Lucero allowed himself to get lost in her eyes. Just this once, he told himself whilst tucking a piece of her disheveled hair behind her ear.

Her head leaned into the touch of his hand. She smiled, but it was only so long until it faltered when she spoke in reply. “... It simply feels wrong to not try and help somehow, Lucero.”

That's the way it is, Lucero thought, to people who've done nothing but give everything they have until they're left with nothing.

I don't want that for you, dearest Elaine.

Barely a word in, Elaine watched Lucero let go of her, his hand at his sides. He pursed his lips, as if he were contemplating on saying something.

Whatever that something was, it went unsaid. And Lucero Symphomia left his prima donna to her own devices.

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Naturally, because it was Lucero that was directing the production, there was not doubt that the seats would be filled by those that wished to see the works of the renowned scriptwriter; and possibly catch a glimpse of Lucero Symphomia himself.

It was bustling, and no doubt chaotic. For both keeping the audience in order, and for the crew behind the scenes.

Everything was in Lucero’s favor. That was a good thing, correct?

The lights were set, the curtains eagerly waiting to be lifted; cast and crew alike ripe and ready to perform to the fullest, in costumes no smoother than Egyptian silks.

Everything… was perfect.

The perfectionist had gotten what he wanted, no qualms about it. He had no intention of ever changing that.

But. Wherever was Elaine? The question repeated itself in Lucero's mind like a broken record, his eyes searching through the crowd, the crew, the cast; looking for his prima donna.

The show was set to begin any minute now. With a flick of his wrist, Lucero could start it right now and give the crowd exactly what he wanted.

Yet that wasn't what he was going to do. Elaine was the star, the spectacle, the shining light the crowd would look at in awe— he wanted her with him here, at the center of the spotlight. To live her dream as the star she'd always wanted to be.

He couldn't do that if she weren't at his side, their eyes locked, their hands — one gloved, the other bare — intertwined.

“Lucero—” whichever pointless skiv tried to catch his attention would have to wait, he'd nearly forgotten to check Elaine's dressing room and there seemed to be no doubt in Lucero's body that she was in there the whole time.

It was locked. No surprise there, Lucero told himself. Elaine deserved her privacy as much as anyone did. But time was not on either of their sides, and it was a race against the clock before the audience awaiting them got antsy.

He knocked. Several times. “Elaine, dear…”

She replied in haste, once it registered to her that the one waiting on the other side was merely Lucero. “Lucero?”

“Yes, dear,” he confirmed, “it's me.”

“Might I come in?”

There was a small silence that followed thereafter. So long as Elaine intended on replying, Lucero didn't mind.

And while she didn't reply in the verbal sense, she did end up opening the door for him. The moment Lucero saw her, it was like he couldn't see anything but her.

Unsurprisingly, the costume was a perfect fit. Her makeup is nothing short of perfection. Dare he say, she was comparable to that of a deity of beauty; one whom he'd put his pride aside to worship at her every word and command.

Her hair was another story. Long story short: It was a mess. And judging by the distressed look on her face, it didn't take long for Lucero to understand why.

Elaine was made for the stage. Lucero believed that fact for a mighty long time, and his word holds true even in the present. But every now and again, he would catch the occasional glimpse of her shaking hands tucked behind her back at the start of every performance— right before she truly was in her element.

When nothing could hold her back. Not even the fear of messing up.

Is she always like this before a performance? Lucero didn't know the answer to that question.

Without another word said, Lucero let out a breath. A nervous, distressed damsel of a leading lady would not do. Not in the production he had in mind for her.

He lifted a hand, motioning her to sit back down near her vanity desk. Elaine obliged with a small, barely noticeable nod; albeit with a nervous purse of her lips.

Lucero's hands weaved through her hair. He'd gone over the appearance of the female lead of the production with Elaine enough times to have memorized the technique to perfect the style of her hair.

Elaine hesitated to look into the mirror, thinking that if she did, she would only see reluctance and contempt.

Instead, what she got was… content. Like Lucero wouldn't have minded standing behind her, assisting her in the precarious predicament that was her hair… forever.

It made her eyes soften at the sight. Unfortunately the lingering doubt still haunted her, compelled her enough to say aloud, “... Forgive me.”

“Forgive you?” She didn't even have to take off his mask to know his brows were knitted together. “Whatever for?...”

For a moment, Elaine bit her inner cheek. Should she tell him? Apologize to him for being such a hindrance, for disappointing him for not being the star he'd initially envisioned?

In the end, she drew in a breath through her nose, then drew it out from her mouth. No going back, her expression seemed to say.

“... Forgive me for wasting your time. I was going as fast as I could.”

Yet again, silence followed them like a moth to a flame. And Elaine expected Lucero to express the disappointment he felt.

But then… “Don't worry,” Lucero told her, his voice soft in a way Elaine didn't expect from him.

Through the mirror in front of them, Lucero's hands gently grasped at her shoulders. Neither of them looked away from the gaze they shared.

Neither of them knew if they ever could get tired of it.

“I've never seen such perfection.”

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【 Taglist / Credits 】

↳ In order of OC appearances/mentions

Lucero Symphomia — @revivemyreverie / @revolllutionary

Elaine Rossignol — Me 😈

Coppelia Waltz — Also @/revivemyreverie

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#twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #twst ocs #twisted wonderland ocs #mutuals <3 #mutuals' ocs #mutuals oc #mutual's oc #friends' ocs #elaine rossignol #『 elaine 🎭 』#lucero symphomia #phantom of the opera #twst #disney twst #ツイステッドワンダーランド #ツイステ #rosie writings! (💖)

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ct-multifandom · 2 years ago

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1, 2 3 and 12: Alix, Alya and Marc in a group project, Marc and Alya hanging out, Alya with the dog, and why doesn't Gabriel like Alix hanging around Adrien?

1: that group project is getting DONE. There may be brief moments when they get a little sidetracked and start enthusiastically talking about other stuff, but they quickly catch themselves and kept working. This thing will be thoroughly research, well written, and they’ll have it all wrapped up way before it’s due. They’ll spend the rest of the time decorating their presentation slides with a colorful theme and those cute little Canva cliparts. There will be transition animations. I think Alya would take a leadership role, Alix would do the most research, and Marc would put everything together.

2: they are certified nerds. They would definitely talk about superheroes, recommend each other books, and watch cartoons they both like. I think they’d like some of the same music, too, like somewhat popular rock and alternative music. They beta read each other’s stories. They bounce ideas off of each other through text when they write, know spoilers and lore about each other’s stories that no one else does, and act like they’re in a fandom for their characters but it’s just the two of them. When one of them posts a story on the internet the other leaves an overly exaggerated supportive comment.

3: ooh okay. I never thought about this one before. Alya is always loyal to Maribug, and loves her friends and Nino. She’d use Fetch in a tricky way, probably similarly to how Felix used it in Strike Back where she’d try to sneakily touch something with the ball without someone noticing and then retrieve it later. I don’t think this would be in any of my top choices for Alya, though, because I don’t think it highlights her strengths very well. A good dog holder would be someone more hands-on and physical, but Alya is good at planning, helping behind the scenes, and pulling intricate tricks that rely more on mind games, which can be done with the dog, but she could probably accomplish the same goals and more with a different miraculous.

As for design, I’d give her a black, wide brimmed hat with tall dog ears and short, fluffy dark brown hair underneath. For the suit I’d make it look like she’s wearing a velvety orange trench coat over super-suit-textured black. I’d add some white details like a trim on the coat and white on her palms and soles. Her shoes would have dog prints on the bottom, and she’d keep the ball on the brim of her hat.

4: why even bother asking? First of all, her hair is dyed a crazy color, obviously. She better not give you any ideas, Adrien. Second of all, she apparently likes “street art” which means she spray paints on walls? That’s clearly just a cute way of saying she commits vandalism. And she’s so casually open about it, like she’s proud of herself, no shame at all. Third of all, her attitude is nasty, and her entire sense of humor revolves around making fun of people. Why would you surround yourself by someone like that? I overheard her calling me a total killjoy and saying I look like a jumbo candy cane, Adrien. Imagine what she must be saying about you behind your back. Trust me, she’s bad news.

#miraculous ladybug #ml #alya cesaire #marc anciel #alix kubdel #dog miraculous #gabriel agreste #miraculous #if anyone else wants to send me something from this ask game feel free!

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r-301 · 4 years ago

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I CAN'T STOP

Chapter 1

It all started one night, as in all the best stories, but it was neither dark nor stormy. It was a night (just after sunset) of joy and celebration.

The Witchers had all gathered in the large dining room, as they have done every night since they joined under Geralt’s leadership. The dinner was informal and noisy like all the previous ones, then someone (probably Aiden) had asked the bard to sing some songs. Jaskier had obviously been excited to please his audience and had performed, under the watchful eye of Geralt, for several songs before sinking into the place next to his Alpha and leave room for the small struggles erupted here and there.

There were Witchers of all schools and not all had left behind the resentments and prejudices cultivated for centuries just because Geralt had created a nation of their own. All in all, however, were innocent struggles that didn't aim to hurt anyone (no more than a scratch).

Jaskier smiled beside his Alpha, with an arm resting lazily on his belly. It was only three months, yet it could not be clearly said that inside his belly there was a child. They had certainly not kept it hidden, it would not have made sense: anyone in the fortress would have noticed the change in the smell of Jaskier and would have asked questions. Everyone had been so enthusiastic. Some still skeptical, but hopeful.

The happiest of all, after the couple and Ciri of course, was probably Eskel. The scarred Witcher took his role as the child’s future uncle very seriously. So seriously that a few days after the news, when the passage was still usable, he was gone for a couple of days and came back with a small stuffed goat and a heavy blanket for the little one, along with a pair of tiny gloves and socks. "It’s cold here in winter" had muttered embarrassed.

Lambert wasn't much better. The day after the news, he had disappeared with Aidan in the forest, cut down a huge tree and began to carve a crib. It wasn’t over yet, but Jaskier already loved it.

"Have you thought of the name yet?" asked Ciri for the millionth time. "No, puppy"

"Do you think it will be a girl or a boy? Will he have eyes like Geralt? And his hair? Do you think he will sing like you? If it is a girl we can exchange clothes! It would be so fun!! Jaaaasskkk makes that she is a girl! There are too many males in this house! Yen said it too!".

The bard giggled to the little hyperactive puppy. He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he felt happier.

"It’s time for bed" said Geralt without moving from Jaskier’s side

"But Geralt I am not sleepy!!"

"It’s probably the two pieces of cake Lambert gave you."

"they were so good!!"

This discussion would not lead anywhere, so Jaskier decided to intervene "It’s getting late and someone has early morning training tomorrow," he smiled, "How about I tell you a story, and after you go to sleep?"

"yeeeees!!"

The story was short and very fictionalized, but it still caught the attention of a discreet group of Witcher. Above all he had had the hoped-for result: Ciri was yawning, curled up in the lap of Geralt.

"I’m going to put her to bed". Geralt rose slowly, raising the child and holding her to the chest. The witchers who had regrouped dispersed back to getting drunk or fighting. Now that the puppy had gone to bed, they didn’t need to hold back.

Jaskier blissfully watched his alpha move away and the Witchers have fun. He felt he was already very tired "when Geralt comes back I will convince him that it is worth going to bed soon" he thought maliciously. He wasn’t that tired after all.

Was in that moment of quiet that everything began. One moment before Jaskier was alone and the next someone was behind him. That someone whispered something in his ear.

"Now you’ll do as I say..."

❤Thanks to whoever will read this story. ❤

I hope you enjoy this first chapter❤ and let me know if history interests you. From the next chapter will begin the action (and anguish).

If there are mistakes or parts difficult to understand warn me why English is not my language. 🙈

#geralt/jaskier #geraskier fanfic #geraskier fanfiction #omega jaskier #alpha geralt #the witcher fic #the witcher #fanfiction #fanfic #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #first chapter #mpreg fic #witcher ciri #ciriofcintras #kaer morhen

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joheun-saram · 4 years ago

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Christmas Under Wraps (ksj)

Summary- You always wanted to work in a small town, and when you finally got matched to a small hospital in Alaska for your one year sabbatical you never would’ve thought you’d be in a place where everyone believed Santa was real. Mass hysteria or magic? Only time will tell.

word count- 12k

pairing- nurse!Seokjin x doctor!Reader

rating- R

genre- fluff, smut

warnings- very bad puns, me having no knowledge of Alaska, cheating, shitty parents, mentions of the horrendous Mario movie, softdom!Jin, whiny!Jin, explicit sex, oral sex (f and m receiving), edging (kinda), multiple orgasms, too many references to Santa

a.n- Part of @suhdays Hallmark Holiday Collab! Please check other beautiful holiday pieces written by some amazing writers. Full disclosure, this fic took me more than a month to write, mostly because I have only seen like three Christmas movies, and one of them was Die Hard and the other was Nightmare before Christmas, so please let me know what you think! Was this Christmasy enough for you?

s/o to the amazing @namyoongles for the banner! ily! 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

“Mr Henderson, I really need you to watch your carbohydrate intake. Your blood sugar indicates pre-diabetes and with your history of angina, it really is important that you keep this in check. I’m going to need you to do a monthly fasting glucose check for the next three months so we see some results. Okay?”

You look over at the smiling overweight septuagenarian seated in front of you. Mr Henderson was one of your favourite patients, one of the few you knew well enough to remember even his grandchildren’s name. You loved that. Being a doctor in a busy hospital in Manhattan made making a lasting connection with a patient a rare occurrence, and although you were worried about his health, you were happy you the last appointment of your five years of residency was with someone you knew.

“Doc, I’m old. A little dessert never hurt anyone huh?” Mr Henderson joked, as he patted his stomach, the buttons of his shirts working hard to keep it together.

“I’m serious, Mr Henderson,” you speak sternly, looking up from your iPad screen at the man in front of you, just as your attending walks in through the door.

“Well, Mr Henderson you better listen to Dr. Y/L/N. She’s the best we’ve got and she will keep calling you in for appointments even if she isn’t here!” She adjusts her glasses, her hands in the pockets of her lab coat, as the two delve into a conversation about her upcoming retirement. You were sad to see your mentor and friend retire, but if you were being honest, it was that fact that gave you the courage to make your big move.

Your colleagues and friends were shocked when you announced that you were moving to Alaska. You had always been the top of your program and had an assortment of top specialization programs to choose from. In fact, your father was the most shocked. He expected you to follow his footsteps and specialize in internal medicine from the prestigious program at John Hopkins. He had even spoken to one of his friends on the admission board to ensure your acceptance.

He almost choked on his dinner when you mentioned that you had accepted the family medicine specialization program in the small town of Elophtron in Alaska. He was livid, having never even heard of the town, let alone the program, deeming it unworthy of his 28 year old prodigy. But that’s the thing. You were twenty eight. There was no way you would let your father, or anyone for that matter, dictate what to do with your career.

The only person who seemed to support your decision was your long term boyfriend, Jiho, who seemed ecstatic at the news. He was the first person you told. You were nervous when you broke the news, the two of you had been a little distant the past few months, but your worries were assuaged when he pulled you in a tight hug excitedly telling you how proud he was of you. He knew how much you wanted to take a break from the city, and seeing his enthusiastic support made you confident you were making the right move.

Born and raised in New York City, the overcrowded bustle of the city thrummed through your veins. While you did pride yourself on being a true New Yorker, you would be lying if you said that you were happy here. It was easy to be lost here, to be forgotten amongst the millions of faces crossing the streets. As often as the city lights cheered you up, they also suffocated you.

The city was cold, a criss cross of concrete and beautiful glass towers housing lonely, selfish souls that didn’t mind tripping over the people sleeping in the streets. People here craved to be noticed, craved to live lavishly, and while you were born into what most craved, what you wanted was the solace of a town where everyone knew each other. A town where you could make lasting relationships that didn’t rely on your last name or where you graduated from. Elopthron, although a terribly sci-fi sounding town name, was your reprieve from the smog filled mundane.

The days leading up to your departure were full of excitement. You packed quickly, your closet surprisingly fitting into two bags that barely avoided the baggage limit. Your friends hosted a cute little going away party, full of champagne and promises to visit, while your parents hosted a cold dinner, full of lectures and judgement. As your flight landed in Juneau, your heart was beating with nerves. This specialization was at the town’s only hospital, the fact that all the town’s medical talent was under one roof had you excited to learn. Not only that, but the program stated that you would get the opportunity to run things and you couldn’t wait to put your leadership skills to the test again - you were the chief resident at your old hospital and you couldn’t say that the role didn’t suit you.

Collecting your bags, albeit with a little struggle, you reach the doors to the arrivals where the hospital had told you to meet the driver. That is another thing about this dream opportunity, they not only ensured you had a ride into town, but even provided you with your own apartment. To your shock, the driver you meet takes you not to a car but another plane, a small little thing that shakes with every gust of wind.

It makes you nervous, the shaking rattling your heart around your chest, but the view of the snow covered mountains takes your breath away. You were never one to swoon over nature, preferring your apartment to the hiking trips Jiho got excited about, but seeing the fresh untouched snow stirred something in you. It promised fresh starts and unchartered challenges, and that made your heart beat faster in anticipation.

The feeling didn’t subside even when you made yourself comfortable in your new apartment. The warm wooden finishing was a stark contrast to the metal of your home in Manhattan and as you started the fire before hanging your clothes in the small wardrobe in the corner of your room, you couldn’t stop the grin etching across your features. You were finally here.

The apartment was on the first floor of a two storey complex. It was much smaller than your expansive home, but instead of suffocating it felt cozy. The front door opened to a small hallway furnished simply with a cute oak shoe rack and a full length mirror. It led to an open concept kitchen and living room, separated by a breakfast island. The living room had a large fireplace, stack of wood next to it, and a large yellow couch opposite it. Furnishing was minimal, but your bedroom boasted a large queen sized bed, anchored on each side by matching nightstands and a wardrobe in the corner.

It was everything you didn’t know you craved as you settled in your bed for the night, noting to thank the hospital for even providing the bedding. As you stared at the wooden slats that decorated the ceiling of your bedroom, you felt comforted. It was unlike your home, where the high ceilings made you feel cold and alone, even when Jiho stayed over. Perhaps you needed this new beginning more than you thought.

The morning was not as serene however, as you somehow managed to turn off your alarm without waking up and were running half an hour behind schedule when you realised you didn’t have a coffee maker. Scrambling out into the cold early December weather you pulled your expensive but utterly useless coat around you as you followed your map app to the closest and seemingly only coffee shop on the one strip of shops the town boasted.

Checking the time to see you still had about half an hour till work started, you slowed down a little to take in the surroundings. Quaint did not cover how cute the small town was. The main strip was a large two way street with a row of little independently owned shops on either side with names such as Once Upon a Book, A Nick in Time, and Thorns and Roses. You didn’t know what these shops housed, although you could guess some, and you couldn’t wait to explore. The cutest thing about the shops was how festive everything looked, fairy lights strung everywhere, mistletoe and wreaths in every window. Like you had stepped into the Grinch’s nightmare, and it was barely October. This might possibly be the most fairytale like town you’d ever stepped foot into.

You easily located the small coffee shop, chuckling at the ostentatious pink board reading Bean There. It seemed more like an 70’s style diner than a coffee shop, filled with small vinyl tables, each with a small Christmas tree on it. Making your way to the counter, you ordered your usual, blond roast coffee with a splash of almond milk.

“Oh sorry hon. We only have normal coffee and cow’s milk,” the older woman standing behind the cash register answered with a jolly laugh, pouring coffee from a pot into a red to-go cup. Before you could say anything, she continued. “Besides, that’s some hippy stuff. We’ve been drinking cow’s milk for generations and our family has never been healthier! I swear these trends are killing the economy!”

And she talked, going on and on about the benefits of milk giving you no time to interrupt as she poured a copious amount of milk into your coffee making it resemble a latte. You were about to give up and forego the coffee this morning till someone behind you decided to speak up.

“Doris! What did we say about forcing the tourists to drink your farm’s milk?” You followed the deep, joyous voice to its owner, blinking a few times as you registered the tall, dark haired man behind you. Oh and what a man he was.

Dressed in black skinny jeans and a red flannel shirt under a fur-lined denim jacket, your eyes zeroed in on his broad shoulders. The instant attraction you felt to this stranger had heat rising up your neck. Emboldened by the fact that you would probably not see this stranger again, you let your eyes roam his body, biting your lip slightly, till your eyes met his, a small smirk on his lips. Clearing your throat you awkwardly stepped forward.

“It’s okay. No problem, Doris, was it?”

“No no. You want almond milk, you get almond milk! Doris I know for a fact you have it back there!” The stranger stops you from grabbing the drink on the counter, a hand held up.

“Seokjin! I see how it is! Just because a pretty girl wants almond milk, you share but not when Jeremy wanted to try it.” Doris huffs, straightening her bright yellow apron.

“Jeremy was drinking it as a dare, and I’d rather not waste one of the ten cartons that Dosey orders every month on stupidity.”

“Um… Really it’s fine! I’m going to be late for work so… thank you!” You try to escape. As much as your lactose intolerant gut was wincing at the thought of almond milk, you had spent way more time here than you planned.

“Wait, work? Hon you’re not a tourist at all! Where are you working?” It seemed you only made the conversation more interesting as Doris looked at you beaming.

“At the hospital?”

“You’re the new doctor? Oh my! Welcome Doc! We’re so excited to have you here! I suppose you’ll be seeing a lot of Seokjin then!” She slapped the stranger, Seokjin you suppose, on the shoulder as he stares at you with wide eyes before catching himself and clearing his throat.

“Doris! Will you just make the pretty doctor her drink then? Mine too please!” He leans on the counter and you can’t help but steal another glance at him. He really was oddly beautiful.

“Sure hon! Here you go!” Doris chuckled as she placed two coffees on the counter and you’re pleased to see yours looking exactly how you prefer. You take out your wallet before Seokjin stops you.

“Don’t worry about it. Put it on my tab Doris. Here, let me walk you to work.” He guides you out of the little cafe, a hand hovering near the small of your back.

“I’m sure you have better things to do. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh it’s no problem at all. I’m going there myself.”

“Oh. Are you a resident?” You did not expect that. By his attire you assumed he worked some manual labour, and by his face you assumed he worked as a model. Somehow you couldn’t picture seeing this man living at a library like you had your years of schooling.

“Nope. Head nurse. So Doris is right, you’ll be seeing me a lot.” He grinned at you, his cheeks puffing up in a way that made you want to poke them. What was in the air in this town? You needed to get a grip on yourself.

“Oh nice to meet you then! I’m -”

“Dr. Y/L/N from New York, right?” Seokjin cut you off before you could finish, looking at you over the lip of his cup as he sipped his coffee, casually guiding you down the main street towards the hospital.

“Right… Seokjin?”

“Yup. Kim Seokjin. How are you liking our little town so far?” He seemed genuinely interested and you smiled. It felt oddly comfortable even if you had inklings of butterflies swarming your belly.

“I love it. It’s really beautiful!”

“Oh wow. Didn’t expect a New Yorker to like it here. You know it’s always cold, right?” he smirked, slowing down as you reached a cute little pink house, before stopping completely.

“I can handle the cold. Wait, this is the hospital?” You looked at the house. It looked more like something a grandma would reside in than a hospital. You were used to glass buildings and top of the art hospitals. As you entered, the door opened to a large waiting area with faded vinyl chairs and a reception desk. It was cozy, but you couldn't believe this was the only hospital in town.

“The one and only. The town’s going to be so excited to finally have a doctor

again!” His words made you sputter, almost choking on your coffee.

“What do you mean, finally? Where are the other doctors?”

“You’re it!” He grinned.

This was not according to plan. You were here to learn. Learn from people much more well-versed in medicine than you were. You did not expect to be the only doctor. Even if the town only had around 2,000 people, it was still outrageous that you would be the only person treating them, and in this small house. Does this place even have any imaging machines?!

As the day went on, your nerves only increased. Seokjin introduced you to the other people who worked at the hospital. There were only three others, two orderly, and another nurse. There were more people in your friend group of residents back home. This was scary, and as you laid in bed that night, all you wanted to do was talk to Jiho and get comforted. He didn't pick up, and you counted the slates on your ceiling to fall asleep, pushing your mind to rest no matter how alone you felt all of a sudden.

----------

Turns out you were not that alone. Within a month you had finally gotten into the groove of things. Your five-person team gelled together pretty fast, and soon you could anticipate each other's moves and even talk without words. Running a hospital, however, was not all you had cracked it up to be in your head. Although you didn't see too many patients daily, the paperwork kept you way past dinner most days. If it weren’t for Seokjin’s insistence to leave at the same time as you, you might as well had moved into your office.

All in all, it was nice. The town had welcomed you with open arms, and it was exactly what you were looking for when you left Manhattan - a place where everyone knew your name and not because of who your family was, where you could walk into a coffee shop and they'd know your order, where you knew your neighbours and attended extravagantly cheesy block parties. Elopthron had its quirks, how almost everyone here put way too much emphasis on Christmas, adults even going as far as pretending Santa Claus was real for the kids all the time. You weren’t kidding, one time a middle aged patient insisted on not ordering the brace he needed because he knew Santa would bring him one on Christmas. When you told Jenny, the other nurse, to do a psych evaluation, she just shook her head in amusement, thinking you were joking. “Of course Santa is real, Dr. Y/L/N. Here in Elophtron, Santa comes every Christmas with presents!” she had insisted, leaving you baffled. This town was absolutely bonkers, but it was starting to feel like home.

The only thing stopping you from feeling fully content was the fact that your parents were still icing you out and somehow regardless of being only four hours out of sync, Jiho and you had barely communicated this month. You would think you were being ghosted if it weren’t for his sporadic one liners.

You sighed as you looked over the budget for the month, the numbers somehow refusing to add up as you looked at your phone, the Instagram notification lighting it up. You could use a break, so you decide to scroll through your feed, only to stop abruptly at Jiho's new post.

Love my baby so much! Happy four months, beautiful.

It was a cute caption, if it weren't for the fact that you and Jiho had been dating for over four years, your anniversary was in March, and that he was kissing a stunning blond that you didn't recognize in the picture.

You looked at the picture again, closing the app and starting it again, just in case it was a glitch. Nope, apparently, Jiho had broken up with you and forgot to tell you. You could feel the tears pricking your eyes, but they weren't because of sadness. Oh no, you were furious. No wonder that fucker was so excited about your move.

You let out a huge groan, throwing your phone across the room, as you stood up and kicked your desk, tears now freely flowing. You couldn't believe the nerve. You hadn't expected this from him. In fact, much like a loser, you were expecting him to propose at Christmas. You thought back at how he had told you he loved you and called you beautiful, much like he was now professing to that new girl and it made your stomach twist. You wanted to break stuff. No, correction, you wanted to break his face.

You didn't realize you were rage pacing until Seokjin appeared in the doorframe, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Everything okay, Y/N?" he asked, stepping in front of you to stop your pacing. In the past month, Seokjin had gotten surprisingly good at reading your moods. It was like he could see a slight change in your micro-expressions and be able to tell whether you need a coffee, a hug, or a walk. You were truly grateful for him, but at this moment you were afraid you were going to take out your anger on him so you tried to calm down. Stopping your pacing, you plastered a smile on your face.

"Yeah. Everything's fine. Don't worry. Why are you still here?" Seokjin, however, didn't buy your flimsy excuse and pulled you in a hug. You felt yourself instantly calm. It was oddly intimate. He had hugged you before, but never like this. His arms were tight around your frame as your face met his chest, enveloping you in his vanilla scent. Your attraction to Seokjin had faded slowly over time, but right now as he tightened his grip around you in an effort to comfort you, your heart skipped a beat.

With your rage fast diminishing, all you had left was your heartbreak as you slowly started to cry in his chest. He didn't question you. His usually talkative personality, giving way to an understanding silence as he slowly rubbed your back.

When it seemed that you had calmed down, Seokjin pulled away, looking at you with concern. Without asking you for details, he suggested going on a drive. You accepted, knowing that if you just went home all you would do is wallow. You let him drive you to a burger joint, picking up your favorites, before getting back in his truck. The two of you drove for what seemed a long time, the food getting cold as soft pop music played in the background.

He never once pushed you to talk, letting you take in the trees lining the highway, as you watched the snow glittering in the moonlight on the banks. Finally, he stopped the truck, getting out before opening the door for you, taking your hand as you stepped down from the height.

The view blew you away. He had driven you to a field of sorts, getting the back of his truck ready with some blankets. But it wasn't the pine-lined field that took your breath away, it was the sky. Above you the navy hues of the night were alight in colour, pinks and greens blooming like waves in the sea. Stars prickled through occasionally as the weave of colours danced slowly, mesmerizing you. You don't know how long you stared at it in awe, but when you turned around, he was already sitting on the back of the truck, under a blanket, your food being taken out of bags.

He speaks for the first time when you settle next to him.

"You want to talk now?"

"I don't know." You shrug, rattling the ice in your cup as you swirl around your drink.

"It's okay if you don't want to. Just... do you need to go back?" He seemed hesitant, almost disappointed, as he asked. It was endearing how much he cared about the town not being left without a doctor.

"No. Definitely not." You said firmly, staring at the sky, missing the way he smiled at you in relief. The last thing you wanted to do right now was go back to Manhattan so your parents could tell you how you failed and accidentally run into Jiho and his blonde. Hoping to deflect the conversation, you looked at Seokjin, his cheeks puffed as he took a big bite of his burger. "Seokjin, can you tell me something about yourself?"

"What do you want to know?" He says, sipping his drink.

"I don't know. Anything."

"Hmm... well I'm a nurse and I’m the most handsome man in the world." He laughed, clapping his hands slowly as if applauding his own wit. You rolled your eyes, unable to fight the smile that made its way to your lips.

"Oh my god, you dork! Tell me something real. Tell me a secret." You bumped him with your shoulder.

"If I tell you a secret, will you tell me what's wrong?" You hummed, eyes wide in anticipation as you munched on your cold fries. "Well. I secretly kind of hate this small-town life."

His answer shocked you. In the month you’ve known Seokjin, he has been this little town’s biggest fan. With the number of people who greet him, and routinely give him presents, you don’t doubt he could easily be elected mayor. In fact, the chief of police even suggested using him as the town’s mascot, for crying out loud.

“If you hate it why are you here?”

“Did you know I lived in San Francisco for ten years till last year?” You did not. You couldn’t imagine Seokjin amongst those tech snobs, nor could you imagine him in anything not flannel. “Yeah. I loved it. I worked at this amazing hospital and went out to all these clubs. I was kind of a party animal.” He chuckled, looking at his lap fondly as he picked at the blanket.

“Why come back?”

“Well… my family established this town. We were the first ones here and well I promised my dad when he died that I’d help continue the little traditions in this town.” He shrugged, his mouth a lopsided smile. “Promised him I’d raise my kids here. Family comes before fun.”

“That’s… wow. You must really respect your dad, enough to change your life for him,” you spoke softly, leaning into his lap a little to place your hand over his. “It must have been hard to lose him.”

“It was, but I hope I’m making him proud.” He gave you a genuine smile as he squeezed your hand, before tapping it. “Now enough about my emo self! Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”

And so you did. You spent probably three hours out in the cold, before calling it a night. You told him about Jiho and how he broke your heart, and he related by telling you about his own ex that had broken their engagement when he suggested the relocation. Spending time with Seokjin was comfortable, it was easy. There was something about him that warms you up, like hot chocolate on a snowy night.

You hadn’t been that vulnerable around anyone in a while. Your life in New York was calculated, you never knew who you could trust, and so you trusted no one. It felt oddly freeing to be able to talk about your heartbreak and insecurities with Seokjin, and after that night under the aurora borealis, you both became closer. Before, you would only see each other at work, but since then you had been hanging out outside of work a lot. Sometimes the two of you would grab dinner at the local diner, or he would pick you up for working, grabbing coffee and flirting with Doris shamelessly for freebies. The more you spent time with Seokjin, the more you realized how different he was from what you had assumed.

When you first got to know Seokjin, you thought he was hardworking and amiable, but now you knew his dorky side. The side that would come up after a glass of wine, when he would start cracking lame dad jokes, clapping his hands, and laughing at himself. The side that got especially shy, ears turning a bright red, every time you complimented him on anything, be it his work ethic, or a nice new shirt he bought. The side that would go on and on about the Mario universe, regaling you with details about why Wario was misunderstood, or why the movie should only be watched when wasted otherwise it was a waste.

To be honest, you never knew there was even a Mario movie, and when you told him such he gasped loudly, grabbing you by your shoulders and excitedly making plans to watch it together. You wouldn't tell anyone but with your newfound friendship with Seokjin, he had also gotten very comfortable touching you. Maybe it was the aftereffect of being so vulnerable around him that one time or the fact that you were trying to get over Jiho, but every time he pulled you into a hug or brushed past you it made your heart skip a beat. You controlled the flush slowly creeping up your neck, as you shrugged his hands off your shoulders and solidified your plans to watch the movie together.

True to his word, Seokjin showed up at your house with a case of beers, a local microbrew full of hops that made your tongue sing. Halfway through the movie, you had no idea what was happening, Mario and Luigi, who had terribly fake accents, by the way, jumping through trying to save the damsel in distress in what looked like an acid trip. The alcohol didn't help as the plot got more convoluted, but that didn't stop Seokjin from excitedly trying to help you decipher it.

You don't know when it happened, but his arm was around you, casually draped where your head met the couch, his fingers lightly caressing your shoulder as he sipped his beer. You took another sip of yours trying to calm yourself. No matter how many times you tried to focus on the colours exploding on the screen, all you could think about was your hammering heart as your skin heated up under his innocent touch. It wasn't when he abruptly pulled his arm away from you that you were broken out of reverie.

"So what did you think?" He asked excitedly, turning on the couch towards you, a leg moving up and under his other. You hadn't even realized the movie ended. Did they save the princess? Or was it their business they were trying to save? What was this movie even about?

"Um... it was something," you commented, hoping that the vague answer would satisfy him, as you chugged the rest of your beer.

"It's cause you're not drunk enough! Y/N! I told you, you had to get wasted to like this movie!" He whined, clumsily opening another bottle and handing it to you. You weren't drunk, he was right. You were on the right side of tipsy, just on the edge of jumping into oblivion. Seokjin on the other hand, seemed much more ahead of you as he struggled with the bottle opener.

Chuckling, you reached out and put your hands over his, helping him uncap his bottle. You didn't notice how close you had gotten until he whispered thanks and his breath ghosted the skin of your nose. Looking up, your breath hitched as you saw the look in his eyes. Usually filled with mirth, it was jarring to see him looking at you with want, his long dark hair falling into his eyes as they traced your features. You saw his eyes linger on your lips and all you could do was blink. You knew you should move away, he was coworker and friend, but you froze, the two of you lost in the silence.

He made the first move, bringing his hand to your face tentatively. You leaned into it, sighing a little, and that's when you felt his lips on yours. Soft, plush lips that you had imagined more than a few times this past month, molded around yours. The kiss was shy, a little soft as his thumb caressed your flushing cheek. Your hands still on top of his on the beer tightened as you deepened the kiss, and he followed, grunting slightly, his hand moving to the back of your head, angling it a little. You mewled when his tongue licked at your lip, granting him access as it roamed your mouth, easily taking charge as your heart exploded within your chest. You hadn't been kissed like this before, the balance of gentle and domineering, making your knees weak. You were glad you were seated because otherwise, you'd be on the floor.

You don't know how long you were kissing, but the spell was broken as his phone rang, making him pull away abruptly, lips swollen and face red. It took everything in you to not go in for seconds as your mouth followed his. He didn't oblige you though, as he pulled away, resting his hand on your waist as he reached for his phone.

"It's my mom. I'm sorry," he apologized with a pout that did not help how you were feeling. Finding it hard to speak, you simply nodded as if in a daze. His wide, grateful smile made you turn to putty as he answered, only to frown. Quickly ending the call, he grabbed your face and kissed you again, hard but quick, taking your breath away.

"I have to go. I'm so sorry." He looked at you, his forehead pressed against yours, as you blinked. Standing up from the couch, you straightened your t-shirt, as you walked him to the door. He stopped in front of it, his arms around your waist as he pulled you into a hug, making you smile. You felt like a teenager who got to kiss their crush, it was bizarre. Pecking your lips a few times, he bid you goodbye, waving as he walked off, leaving his truck in your driveway.

Shutting the door, you giggled giddily, forgetting all about your earlier worries of maintaining a professional decorum, as your fingertips grazed your lips, still feeling the touch of his lips. That night he messaged you just once, and you reread the text over and over as you fell asleep.

Thanks for watching that stupid movie with me tonight. Can't wait to continue where we left off ;)

The next day you were extremely excited to go to work, changing your outfit multiple times before settling on a pretty pastel pink dress and leaving your apartment, noticing the truck was no longer in your driveway. Stopping by to grab a cup of coffee, you greeted Doris.

“Hi Doc! Happy last day to send Santa a letter!” she chirped as he poured your order. You shook your head in amusement. This was by far the weirdest aspect of this town. They were all so obsessed with Christmas, grown adults refusing to talk about how Santa doesn’t exist. It would be endearing, charming in a way if it weren’t for the fact that Bean There was the location where they collected these letters to Santa, and it was full of people scrambling to write. You would think it would be mostly kids, but you could spot Mr. Hernandez, a sixty year old retired lumberjack, scribbling away, as well as Molly, the recent college graduate. It seemed the town had no age limit when it came to believing in Christmas miracles.

“Doris, I don’t know what’s in the air here, but you guys know Santa isn’t real right?” you whispered, not wanting to incite a full out riot, like you accidentally did when you first moved and made the same comment. Either this town was very much into the spirit of things or you were just too late to catch up to the mass group hysteria everyone seemed to be a part of.

“Y/N! You just have to believe, hon. I’m telling you every year, whatever you write on those letters comes through. I mean you can’t ask Santa for love or anything but anything material comes! Always. How else do you explain that?” You frowned as she pushed your coffee towards you. Sure, you didn’t have a logical explanation for that but that doesn’t mean Santa was real. However, you were in a great mood this morning, looking forward to seeing Seokjin, and so you acquiesced to Doris when she waved a piece of paper, writing the first thing that came to your head which was a snowglobe, since the shelves behind the counter was lined with about a thousand. You could use a cute one to put on your desk, if Santa was in fact real.

When you walked into the hospital, coffee in hand and pep in your step, you looked around for the familiar mop of dark hair, half expecting a ho ho ho, or some cheerful Christmas pun Seokjin usually pulled out in the morning, but you were met with an empty lobby. Even his office was empty. It was odd. He was usually the first one in after you.

Walking into your office you felt your earlier excitement twist into nerves. What if he regretted last night? What if he thought you were unprofessional? But he had texted you, surely he couldn’t regret it too much, could he? Oh! He was so drunk last night. He probably regrets it and now finds it awkward to be around you. Technically he was your subordinate, so were you now one of those creepy bosses they show on television? Inviting your employees to your house to get them drunk and make them kiss you? This was bad. Your thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to focus on today’s schedule in front of you, before, thankfully, Jenny broke through them.

“Hey Y/N. I’ll be taking over Seokjin’s workload while he’s on vacation. Is there anything in particular you need help with today? Otherwise I’m just gonna follow the notes he left behind.”

“Vacation?” you stammered, clearing your throat and taking another sip of your drink.

“Yeah. He takes the ten days before Christmas off every year. Something about a family obligation.” She shrugged.

“Oh. He didn’t tell me.” You tried your best to not sound disappointed.

“It’s been on the calendar for years, doc.” Jenny chuckled as she walked out of your office, leaving you confused as you went to check the employee calendar and lo and behold, there it was ‘Kim Seokjin on vacation’, staring at you. You were annoyed. You expected at least some notice. Did he think he could just kiss you and then go off to wherever he was. Fuming, you opened your phone to text him.

So when were you going to tell me you were away for the rest of the month?

You waited a few minutes, staring at the screen, but when the message still showed unread you gave up and did what you do best when people piss you off. You worked. And you continued working for the whole week, till you were fed up with Seokjin. He had seemed so caring and then to ghost you out of nowhere? Sure, you can expect that perhaps his vacation slipped his mind, but did he suddenly lose his fingers? He couldn’t do you the courtesy of sending a text when you had left on what you thought were nothing but good terms? “Continue where we left off”, your ass.

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

It was two days to Christmas and you were bored. You parents had decided that since you were away, they were going to go on a cruise. Sick of scrolling endlessly through social media, envying your friends, you decided to take a walk to the only place open 24 hours in this town, the diner. It was 2 am and you didn’t think you would see anyone other than Mark, the friendly twenty-year old whose family owned the place.

You were enjoying your plate of fries, and a milkshake when the little bell above the door grabbed your attention off your phone and in walked the last person you expected to see - Kim Seokjin. He was dressed casually as always, his black parka over a white hooded sweater and dark jeans. It didn’t seem like he noticed you, waltzing over to the register to order a coffee as he sat on a stool, waiting for the fresh pot to brew.

Seeing his face, made you stupidly angry. You knew rationally that he didn’t owe you anything, you were just friends. Friends who shared a pretty nice kiss, but you were friends, you had no claim over him, but you still found yourself fuming and getting up from your booth to march over to him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you spoke in a normal volume, but Seokjin jumped high, his eyes widening as he put his hand on his chest, staring at you.

“Y/N! Um… what are you doing here so late?” He asked, his eyes shifting around, looking anywhere but at you.

“That’s all you have to say to me?” You crossed your arms, wanting answers.

“I can explain! I swear it is not what you think!” He jumped up from the stool, arms in front of him as he tried fruitlessly to calm you down.

“What is it, then? Did you lose your phone? Did you lose your head?” You scoffed, fully knowing that your comeback was far from witty, but you could barely think, indignation mapped onto your features.

“It’s not that… it’s just… I don’t know how to tell you. I don’t even know if I can.” He rubbed the back of his head, his ears turning red, as they usually did when he was embarrassed. Seeing his demeanour suddenly made the pieces click in your head. There was only one reason people ghosted each other. It was a rejection. You felt your face heat up at the realization, feeling like you were going to cry. Oh, this was bad. You couldn’t believe you were about to shed tears over a kiss. You needed to get out of here.

“No need. It’s okay. I’m a big girl. I can take a hint.” You said quickly, your voice seemingly calm given the situation as you zipped up your parka and walked out of the diner, ignoring his calls of your name. If he really needed to explain himself, he could have followed you, but you walked the ten minutes to your apartment alone, burying yourself under the covers once inside. You didn’t realize that unwittingly you had been thinking about your future with Seokjin, picturing dates and waking up together when all he had been doing was figuring out a way to gently let you down. You decided to let yourself feel the sting, dampening your pillow cases, finding that somehow this hurt more than what Jiho did. Who knew the kind, wholesome small town boy could hurt you worse than a cold lawyer from New York?

----------

Having no close friends yet in town and not wanting to burden the nice people who invited you to their homes, you decided to pretend that you were going to New York over the holidays. You stocked up on enough groceries to get you through the New Years and decided to hide out in your apartment. You spent your time cleaning your apartment, doing skincare, reading the latest medical journals, and binging the Crown on Netflix.

On Christmas morning, you decided to treat yourself for brunch, making an obscenely large stack of pancakes, piling it high with fruit and chocolate chips, and drowning it in maple syrup. Foregoing dressing up, you sat on your living room floor in your festive pajamas as you watched the political ongoing of the royal family, and enjoyed your sugar loaded creation. However, before you could truly dig into your pancakes, you were interrupted by a knock on the door.

You didn’t know who would be knocking at your door this early and on Christmas. You weren’t expecting anyone and everyone knew you were supposed to be out of town. Sighing you begrudgingly rise as the tempo of the knocks increased. Huffing you opened the door to be greeted by none other than Kim Seokjin, dressed in the ugliest Christmas sweater you had the misfortune of seeing and jeans, with a campy Santa hat atop his dark hair. The forest green Christmas sweater, adorned with a stuffed Rudolph and what seemed like real mistletoe, also apparently lit up, the twinkling red and green lights on it glowed in the morning sun as little flurries collected in Seokjin’s hair.

Regardless of the terrible wardrobe choice, you couldn’t deny the sudden pull you felt towards him, your heart skipping a beat at seeing him on your doorstep with a small box wrapped in shiny paper. However, you were nothing if not determined, so you schooled your initial wide eyed expression into a glare as you crossed your arms across your chest and leaned into the door frame.

“What are you doing here?”

“Came to give you your present.” Seokjin smiled as he brought the gift towards you, making you scoff and roll your eyes.

“Seokjin, I don’t want you or your presents.”

“Not gonna lie, that kind of hurts.” He scratches the back of his head nervously, sending his hat askew as he sways a little on his feet, unsure of how to proceed.

“Good,” you say as you move to close the door on his face. Not going to lie, you were pretty proud of your resolve. Before you could fully shut the door, Seokjin put his hand out to stop it, jumping a little when he saw the cold look in your eye. Stepping back sheepishly, he cleared his throat.

“Please Y/N. Just let me explain.”

“Go ahead.” Still holding the door half closed, you stared at him, your resolve melting as he seemingly shivered outside.

“Can I at least come in? It’s kind of cold.” You rolled your eyes again, and acquiesced. Not because you wanted to hear him or be near him, but because he looked kind of pitiful shaking in the cold in a sweater that didn’t seem built for the Alaskan winter. Stepping aside you let him in your hallway, leaning against the wall, your patience at an all time low. “Okay. So… um… how do I even start this?”

“Seokjin. Just say you don’t like me and go. It’s Christmas. The least you can do is be straightforward.” His stammering was infuriating. It made you want to kick him. However, as the words came out of your mouth, Seokjin looked shocked, his eyebrows disappearing beneath his bangs as his mouth flew open. It was a pretty funny sight, and if you were less angry you would’ve chuckled.

“Why do you think I don’t like you? What?”

“Hmm… Let’s see you got drunk, you kissed me and then you disappeared! Like poof!” You gestured in the air with your hand, trying to make the point more apparent.

“Well that’s what I am trying to explain!” And now he was gesturing, his hand with the box rising in the air.

“Oh my god,” you groaned.

“Just open this. It will help start my explanation.” He took your hand in his and placed the box on top of it. You eyed him suspiciously as you began to unwrap the iridescent paper. Inside the box was a snowglobe, the scene inside showing a field full of flowers with a small truck with two people on the hood. When you shook it, it came alive with glitter and tiny styrofoam flurries. It was very cute and very reminiscent of the night Seokjin and you first became friends. You loved it, but it wouldn’t be you if you weren’t petty enough to hide your true emotions to look at him with disdain.

“A snowglobe? Okay? So?”

“Don’t you wanna know how I knew you wanted this?” He spoke slow, his words and spaced out as he frowned at your scowl.

“I didn’t want this?” You matched his slow pace, enunciating each word as you raised an eyebrow in question. Why did he think you would want a snowglobe of all things? I mean he knew what you really wanted was those cupcakes that Doris only made once a month, you had told him how much you adored them on more than one occasion. If he wanted to be all romantic he could have at least bribed her for some of those!

“But… you asked Santa for it!” he sputtered, jogging your memory to remind you of the throwaway wish you made in the letter to Santa a few days ago.

“So you steal mail now? That’s a federal offence, you know.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“No! No no no. I don’t steal mail. Unless it’s snail mail because it’s easy to catch.” He laughed at his own joke, but seeing your deadpan expression, he backpedaled, nervously running his hands through his hair again. “No? Okay, bad joke. But I didn’t steal it. You sent it to me! I’m Santa!” He was talking more with his hands than his words, waving them around in the air.

“Your excuse is that you’re Santa? How old do you think I am?” you scoffed, moving to push him out of the door, ignoring how solid his bicep felt under that ugly sweater. How was he not getting electrocuted by those stupid lights?

“No please don’t kick me out! I’m telling the truth!” Seokjin planted his feet in the ground turning around and looking at you with wide eyes, the cinnamon depths softening your anger as you sighed. This was so far fetched, the least you could do was hear him out. If nothing else, this would make a great story to share over drinks sometime.

“You have five minutes. And I’m eating my pancakes while you talk.” You let go of him as you walked into your living room, Seokjin close on your heels. You sat on the floor next to the coffee table and he followed suit, sitting much too close to comfort, his thigh grazing yours as he stared at your pile of sugar.

“Oh. Can I have some?” he asked, clearing his throat at your glare as you aggressively cut into a piece before stuffing your face. The nerve... “Sorry! Okay um… so did you think it was weird that the whole town just happened to believe in Santa?”

“I honestly was going to write a paper on mass hysteria, but yes.” You were much more interested now. You always did find the town's dedication to upholding the sanctity of Santa bizarre.

“Well, that’s because for almost a hundred years, people in this town have been getting what they wanted for Christmas, without fail.”

“Because you’re Santa?” You looked at him, waiting for him to explain only to be met with a soft smile as he nodded. His cheeks puffed up with his little smile and it took all of your willpower not to poke at them. Why did he have to be so cute when you were trying to be mad at him. Also, what grown man insists they're Santa? “So where are your elves? Is Rudolph just hiding in your truck?”

“I’ll have you know I’m an elf-made man!” He joked, his pun making you lose control as you let out a light laugh before remembering you were supposed to be mad and trying to hold a neutral expression. Seokjin, on the other hand, made no such effort, a wide grin adorning his features, making his eyes disappear beneath his squishy cheeks. “Hey got you to laugh! But no. No elves. Just me, well, and my family. It’s the family tradition I was talking about. For generations the Kims have been sending people in this town presents on Christmas in secret.”

“Wait how do you even afford this?” This made no sense. How was he buying these expensive presents, and also Santa was Korean? How did his family even hide this for so long? Why were these town people naive enough to believe this? How did he do deliveries? Did he work with Amazon? You had so many questions!

“Um… I’m kind of rich?” he replied sheepishly.

“Kind of? You give 2,000 presents a year!” Your pancakes were forgotten as you swiveled around to face him, your knees touching his thigh, momentarily distracting him as his eyes dropped to where you touched him, before following suit and facing you. The two of you sat cross-legged across from each other as he started what may have been the most useless and longest rant he embarked on since entering your home, talking animatedly as always.

“Yeah… but that’s not the point! The point is the days leading up to Christmas are really hard and this year I had to figure out how to make the drones work and this kid wanted an exact replica of Han Solo’s gun and those are really hard to find and then Mr. Hernadez decided he wanted a rare Amazonian flower. Like where am I supposed to find a flower in December?! And don’t get me started on Doris she-”

“Seokjin. Relax. So you ghosted me because you’re Santa?” You placed your hands on his knees to get him to calm down as his face seemed so red from his rant you were worried you would have to resuscitate him if he didn't take a breath soon. He calmed down exponentially, taking a deep breath and locking his eyes with yours.

“Yeah, and I couldn’t tell you and if I did tell you, you wouldn’t believe me till today anyway. And just… I’m sorry.” He sighed, placing his hand on top of yours on his knee as he held eye contact, and it seemed like you may forever get lost in his irises. He looked at you with such a sorrowful expression, that you weren't sure if the pout of his lips was exaggerated for effect or if it came naturally to him.

“I don’t know what to say… I kind of have regrets” You bit your lip as you gazed back at him with mischief.

“You do? I… I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about the fact that you might not like me back. Oh. I’m an idiot. Okay. I will see you at work. Happy holidays!” He spoke in flurried words as he tried to stand up before you stopped him mid-rise.

“Seokjin wait! That’s not the regret.” You were quick to stop him as he sank back down, a confused look on his face.

“It’s not?”

“No. I regret only asking Santa for a snowglobe! I should’ve asked for a car!” you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh sure! What kind? I can get you a car.” He did not miss a beat before picking up his phone and scrolling through what you could only imagine being his gift list. Wait, were the Kims part of the mafia? You really should ask him where he gets all this money from someday. Nurses get paid pretty terribly, so it's definitely not that.

“Seokjin. I was kidding!”

“Oh. I knew that.” He put his phone down as he looked at you, blinking slowly a few times.

“So you like me.” You ask, leaning in slightly with a smirk.

“Yes.” He answered resoundingly, a determined look on his face as he leaned in as well. The two of you only a hair breadth apart.

“Are you going to kiss me again?” You whisper, not wanting to break the sudden shift in the atmosphere, as you looked at his plush lips, before meeting his gaze.

“Do you want me to kiss you again?” His voice was lower, a little strained as he looked at you, his eyes jumping from each feature before settling on your lips.

“Yes.”

“Then come sit in Santa’s lap.” He leaned back, patting his lap with a smirk, making you blanch as you pull a disgusted face.

“Okay. I changed my mind.” You leaned back, before he came closer, his hands cupping your face.

“No no! Sorry! I just have always wanted to use Santa puns and you’re the only one outside of my family who knows and I don’t kn-” You cut off his rambling with a kiss, a soft, quick one on his lips that made his breath hitch. He recoiled a little in shock, staring at you before pulling your face to his and crashing your lips together.

This kiss was neither soft, nor short, but a flurry of emotions as you both tried to express what you couldn't in words. His lips were firm against yours as his hands moved down your body to pull you closer by the waist. A soft groan left his lips as you parted yours and he wasted no time starting to explore your mouth, his tongue meeting yours. His plush lips moulded against yours and you couldn’t help the moans that fell out of your mouth. You had missed his mouth against yours, the feeling as refreshing as the crisp sun after a blizzard. He tasted like coffee and you sucked at his tongue with fervour, eliciting a shocked moan from him as his hands left your waist to find your ass, gripping it harshly to pull you into his lap. You wasted no time straddling him, as you grind your core against him, making him groan. He bit your bottom lip as he pulled apart to catch his breath. Staring down at your heaving chest, he traced his hands on your hips, before breaking into a smirk. Gone was the rambling man from earlier, his eyes clouded with lust as he took you in. He leaned closer, his lips on your neck as he kissed from your collarbone peaking through your thin pajama top to your ear.

“Now that you’re finally in Santa’s lap, tell him what you want for Christmas.” He whispered, nipping at your earlobe. Wow, he really was not going to let this go. You groaned in annoyance, cupping his face to pull him away from your ear to face you, ignoring the pout on his face.

“For you to shut up.” You kissed him, tilting his head slightly to give you access, before he pulled away, shaking your hands off his face till they rested on his broad shoulders.

“Come on! Let me have this!” He whined, his pout bigger as he looked at you with puppy eyes. You chuckled at his antics, shaking your head as you leaned in for another kiss, missing the taste of his lips already. His hands moved from your hips to the hem of your shirt, slowly moving up under it, tracing over your ribs, just below the swell of your breasts, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Moaning gently, but not one to be outdone, you mirrored his movements, moving your hands down his built chest, feeling the soft material, and groaning in annoyance as you reached the stupid stuffed toy stitched to the centre. You reached the bottom of his sweater, but before you reached under it you pulled away, Seokjin chasing your lips.

“Will this dumb sweater shock me if I put my hands under it?” You huffed and played with the hem of his sweater as he smiled goofily, as if realizing he was wearing it for the first time. The goofy smile didn’t last for long as he moved his hands to cup your chest, massaging gently as he leaned in kissing your sternum, visible from the top button that had somehow loosened during your makeout.

“The only shock you’ll get is how loud you’ll be screaming my name when you cum.” He pulled on your nipples, making you mewl as you involuntarily arched your back, rolling your hips on his. You felt breathless, and you couldn’t believe his stupid wordplay was making you this wet.

“Big talk for someone whining about Christmas puns.” You moaned out as he tugged harder on your nipples in reprimand, his hands pushing against the fabric, as he bit the sensitive skin of your neck. Forgetting your earlier concerns, your hands go under his shirt, feeling his soft skin, the tiny hair on his abs tickling your fingertip, as you push the sweater as high it would go revealing his golden skin.

“Yule be sorry for doubting me.” He finally gives your sore nipples a rest, as his hands move to pull his sweater off, momentarily getting tangled up in, making you chuckle, which he mistakes for praise aimed at his puns, wiggling his eyebrows as he emerges from the monstrosity. If you weren’t so whipped for him, you would have made him leave. You didn’t know if this was a one off, if he really wanted things to progress or he just wanted sex but all thoughts fell out of your head as his lips reattached to your neck, his hands on your hips making you grind against him as the two of you made out like teenagers at prom.

“I will literally murder you if you make another pun.” You moaned out, losing yourself in his touch, his lips leaving behind blooms on your skin. If he kept moving your hips like this you were going to cum. You grabbed on to his hair as you moaned at the sensation your body lit as your clit grazed his length through the layers of clothing. Your legs shook as the feeling in your stomach tightened and Seokjin chuckled against your neck.

“Yeah murder me with that pussy.” You could feel his grin but all your annoyance was forgotten as you felt yourself let go, mewling his name, your orgasm washing over you in waves, your grip on his hair tightening.

He kissed you as you came down from your high, his erection solid against you as his tongue explored your mouth. When he pulled away he looked almost crazed, the lust in his half lidded gaze mirroring yours as his hands moved to your top, slowly unbuttoning it. “Fuck that was so hot. Let me unwrap you, baby.”

He wiggled his eyebrows again as he looked at you. How could this man be this sexy and this dorky was beyond you. Wanting to see him writhe over you, you started kissing his neck, moving to his chest, leaning him back as you inched closer to the waistband of his jeans.

“You first!” You exclaimed, wasting no time to unbutton his jeans as he sighed in relief, moving to remove them completely before you reached for his boxers. You were a little taken aback when his cock popped out. It was bigger than you thought, head red as a bead of precum glistened in the late morning sun pouring in from your windows. Your mouth watered at the sight and without thinking you licked up his length, his groans egging you on as you bent over him.

“Shit so perfect! So good to me,” he moaned out as you looked at him. His head lolled back as he leaned against his hands behind him, his wide chest rising heavily due to your ministrations. He let out a loud moan, resembling almost a whine, as you wrapped your mouth around his head, sucking softly. You loved that moan, wanted more of it as you took him deeper, his hand coming to rest on your hair. He panted loudly, his moans filling your room, your mind, as you gazed at him looking at you with awe. “This look soots you.”

He really had to make another dumbass joke, didn’t he? You pulled off his length, sitting back as your hand replaced your mouth, slowly stroking him as you scowled at him. God, you wanted him to beg you so bad.

“That better be suit with a u-i or I swear I’m not gonna let you cum.” You gripped him harder, twisting your wrist as your panties get wetter with power. He mewled a little, twitching in your hand as you grinned. His head lolled to the side and suddenly he looked at you, his eyes sparkling with challenge as your words finally processed in his mind.

Before you could react, he was on you. One hand gripping your wrist and other behind your head as he leaned you over till your back was on the cold hardwood floor and he hovered over you. He smirked at you before he leaned in to kiss you sloppily, making you lose all senses.

“Aw sweetheart, it’s cute you think you’re in charge.” He cooed, as his forearms trapped your head, his kisses becoming softer, reminiscent of the first time he kissed you a week ago. He took his time, his weight a comforting presence on top of you as you melted into the floor. He looked at you with adoration when you broke apart, his nose touching yours and a soft smile on his face.

“But seriously, Y/N. I didn’t come here for this. I want this so bad but I want to take you out, I want to hold your hand, drink a milkshake with two straws together. I don’t know! I wanna spoil you!” His voice was low, but his words were fast, like he just couldn’t hold them in any longer. You giggled in disbelief, caressing his back. This man really was going to be the death of you.

“Seokjin you’re naked and you want to hold my hand?” you chuckled as he nodded, his eyes glinting and smiling wide. He reached out to hold your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he leaned in to kiss your cheek sweetly, an oddly saccharine contrast to the way he was devouring you moments ago.

“I mean I also want to rail you hard, but yeah I don’t want it to be just sex.” You felt your heart flutter at his words, your face heating up more than it already was and you leaned up to kiss him.

“Me neither.” Your grip on his hand tightened and his cock twitched against your thigh, bringing your lust back to the forefront of your mind as you kissed him again, much more hungrier this time. “So come on get on with it. Choo choo!”

He leaned away looking at you with wide eyed surprise before breaking into a shit eating grin.

“Was that a rail- fuck! You’re perfect!” He gushed as he kissed his way down your body, unbuttoning your shirt as he went. He lapped at your nipples, hardening them under his tongue as his hand pulled your pajama shorts off, your panties following quickly after. You wanted to throw another quick witted remark at him, but all thoughts disappeared at his sudden enthusiasm as his mouth made its way to your core. He began to kiss down your slit, light feathery kisses that had you desperate for more, mewling as he continued.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long, it’s really taken a mistletoe-ll on me.” He grinned, his breath warm against your folds. Your retort was forgotten when he slid his tongue inside you, flicking against your sensitive walls before he was sucking at your clit. The pleasure was unbearable and you shook under him, thanking yourself for forgoing carpeting the floors. He put his arm over your hips to hold you down as you chanted his name. You were dripping, your heart beating loudly in your chest as he ate you like a man starved, pushing you closer and closer to your high. You walls clenched around his tongue as you moaned louder, your hands in his hair, pulling him closer.

“I’m so close!” you whined expecting Seokjin to speed up to guide you through your high. He, however, slowed down, the pressure in your belly ebbing slowly away as you whined his name. “Why did you stop?!”

“Tell me my puns are funny.” He looked up at you grinning as you yelped when two fingers entered you. His fingers curled inside you making your back arch as you moaned his name. “Come on admit it, Dr. Y/L/N”

“No… they’re… stupid...” you breathed out as his pace increased and decreased keeping you firmly on the edge, your walls fluttering, your eyes squeezed shut as you refused to beg. He kept up his taunting till you thought you would lose your mind, every nerve in your body on fire as your legs quivered. He was insane! Not being able to take it anymore, you conceded. “Fuck… please! Please Seokjin! Your puns are hilarious. I give! Please…”

“Good girl. Knew you were on the nice list.” he exclaimed as his mouth latched on to your clit and before you knew it you were screaming, your body shaking as you had one of the most powerful orgasms of your life, your arousal gushing out of you as Seokjin gleefully lapped it up. You felt a buzzing in your ears, your vision spotty as he coaxed you slowly through your high.

Seokjin kissed his way up your trembling body, and slotting his mouth against yours, he caressed your sides as you tried to catch your breath. When you opened your eyes he was smiling at you, lying next to you on the floor.

“Told you not to doubt me, baby,” he said lowly as his nose bumped yours gently.

“No pun this time?”

“I was gonna say mistletoe-ld but I already used that one.” He grinned.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, facepalming. “Why do I still want to fuck you?”

“Because I’m a sex god.” He wiggled his eyebrows. You stood up, a little shakily, at his comment, looking down at his alarmed face before walking away to your bedroom. Before you reached the door, you looked back at him. Seokjin was still in the same position, looking at you dumbfounded, probably wondering what he did wrong. You rolled your eyes at him as you gestured towards your room.

“Come on Santa, don’t you wanna climb up my chimney?” You laughed at the speed he stood up, his hard erection bouncing funnily as he ran towards you with a dopey smile, placing his arms around you in a back hug as you walked into your room.

“Stop being funny or I’ll fall in love with you,” he whined, rutting against you petulantly, making you giggle. You guided him to your bed, making him sit with his back to the headboard as you grabbed a condom from your bedside table, stroking him to gently roll it over his length. His breath hitched as you climbed over him, your knees on the bed next to his thighs. Seemingly unable to wait anymore, he put his arms around your waist, pulling you into a hungry kiss, a flurry of tongue and teeth.

You rise, your hands on his shoulders as you slowly descend on his, his girth a soothing pain as your walls stretch around him. The two of you moan into each other’s mouths as you stare at each other, face red and eyes blown from lust. For the first time, there was silence between the two of you, your staredown intense as you slowly started riding him. It felt delicious and it took all of your strength not to close your eyes in pleasure.

Your pace increased as Seokjin’s hands were placed firmly on your hips, pulling your hips higher so he could thrust into you. You kissed him at that, no longer able to take his intense stare and he groaned, increasing his speed. His cock rammed into you and you saw stars, clinging on his shoulders as waves of pleasure flowed through you. He kisses and bites your neck, his lips leaving blooms of petals in their trail, as his movements become sloppy.

He leans back a little, grabbing your hand to guide it to your clit, rubbing your fingers on it. The added friction to your bud paired with his wild thrusts has you coming undone in seconds. Your toes curl as his name stretches around your moan and you still in his arms, your vision hazy. He cums shortly after, thrusting in you a few times chanting your name before falling lax against the headboard, pulling you against him.

The two of you sat there for a while, till he softened enough to slip out of you, the feeling sending shudders through the two of you. Placing a hand on your chin, he brought your lips to his, before looking at you with a soft smile, his eyes sparkling.

“So… Merry Christmas?” He shrugged making you giggle, as you rolled off him and sat next to him.

“Who knew I’d be a ho ho ho for Santa?” Seokjin laughed, clapping as he squealed with glee, before calming down enough to put his arms around you, cuddling you close, and grabbing one of your hands in his. He played with your fingers as he smiled.

“I’m sorry I ghosted you. I promise I’ll never do that again.” He kissed your temple, tightening his arms around you.

“It’s okay. You made up for it.”

The two of you spend Christmas morning together. You made more pancakes, dressed in only his horrendous sweater as he belted out Mariah Carey in his underwear. Your heart swelled when he placed gentle kisses on your shoulder as the two of you swayed to the music, barefoot on the kitchen floor. You knew you made the right decision when you moved to Alaska, it just took you this moment to realize how right.

----

I hope you liked this fluffy Christmasy piece, for more fics of mine check out my masterlist

#bts fanfic #jin smut #jin fluff #jin x reader #jin x y/n #jin fanfic #btsnoonanet #thebtswritersclub #seokjin smut #seokjin fluff #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfic #purplearmynet #hallmarkevent20

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etanunu · 4 years ago

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if any of the bad kids were to be elected student council president, who do you think would be and why?

Oh man, this is one of those questions you didn’t know you were hoping/waiting for until you see it. Hope you don’t mind a long answer and thank you so much for the headcanon ask! 💕

From least likely to most:

Riz. Look I love Riz, he’s the best. But we all remember what happened the last time he tried to take on a leadership role, the rest of the Bad Kids immediately dunked on him so hard they collectively decided they were a democracy.

Fabian. Could he get the nomination? Probably. Would he win? Absolutely not. No matter how “cool” Fabian pretends or says he is we all know he’s a disaster when it comes to social interactions. Season 1 is proof of that but Boys Night reminded us that none of the boys are capable of getting any cool points outside of adventuring.

Kristen. I see this going one of two ways. 1) Kristen gets nominated and is super enthusiastic but loses because she starts questioning things so much she talks everyone including herself out of it. 2) Kristen rocks the vote, wins by a landslide, but steps down after realizing she’d much rather prioritize her relationships or the new church of Cassandra. But she goes down in a blaze of glory.

Fig. There’s no doubt in my mind that if Fig wanted to win she would win but on a platform based entirely around disrupting all school policies and turning the whole system upside down. Anarchy, baby! Hell even Aguefort is backing her election, seen gleefully clapping and cheering on the sidelines as Fig makes the most hardcore speeches ever and burns a pentagram into the cafeteria tables, floor, and walls when she goes full archdevil persuasion on Aguefort Academy. Everything goes well for her until she takes it just a bit too far, even for her, and Aguefort calls the whole thing.

Adaine. She could, would, and might become class president at some point. It feels very in character especially now that Adaine has overcome a lot of her anxieties. However, it would be a background thing that hardly comes up just like the AV Club.

Gorgug. Listen, listen, I know I said that Boys Night was proof none of the boys have cool points and yes Gorgug is still the kid who stole backpacks but, BUT he has Fig and the rest of the Bad Kids. If Gorgug was nominated or, even better, if he decided to run don’t tell me his friends wouldn’t do everything to help him win. Fig would be his campaign manager. Riz would investigate public opinion and dig up dirt on Gorgug’s opponents (under contract with Fig). Kristen would campaign so hard, and she and Fig would try to coach Gorgug like they did when he first asked out Zelda. Fabian would hype Gorgug up like crazy and have it as a given that the entire Bloodrush Team is voting for his boy. He might get a little aggressive with people who say they’re voting for someone else. Adaine would do everything she could to help while being calm and respectful to what Gorgug wants and is saying. She’s the one usually reigning Fig’s overzealous antics in. My point is if there’s even a tiny chance Gorgug could become class president he would do it. After all, he’s the greatest wizard of this age.

Thank you again for this headcanon ask it was a blast to answer!

#dimension 20 headcanons #dimension20 #fantasy high #riz gukgak #fabian aramais seacaster #kristen applebees #fig faeth #adaine abernant #gorgug thistlespring #eta answers

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writingandmore · 3 years ago

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Hi!!! May I get a HP, Star Wars, Voltron, and Disney matchup?

𝗕𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗖𝗦 + 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘

19, Libra, Neutral Good, enneagram is 4w5, muggleborn Ravenclaw (with Gryffindor tendencies), and my patronus spirit is Hummingbird. Biromantic Pansexual Genderfluid woman using pronouns of She/Her or He/Him. Cherubic-like face, with short height (5'1") plus sized Southeast Asian woman with Spanish descent that has chic messy/wavy brunette medium hair that reaches to my shoulder, oriental skin, slightly upturned eyes, small lashes, chocolate brown irises, cute flat nose, heart shaped face, full cheeks, cupid's bow lips, a small beauty mark on the forehead, and naturally straight teeth with tiny gap in front (just imagine that it's a mixture of Marinette from 𝗠𝗶𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗟𝗮𝗱𝘆𝗯𝘂𝗴, Musa from 𝗪𝗶𝗻𝘅 𝗖𝗹𝘂𝗯, and Alexandra Trese from 𝗧𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲---cause' my friend told me that I kinda look like them). My sense of fashion is in between emo and boyish plus korean glam, I sometimes let my hair down or styled like Lara Croft reboot.

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬

Distant, quiet, and timid at first making people thought I'm a demure, modest, and self-effacing that looks "immaculate" or "one of a kind" (due to my protective mom, a reason why I've never been in a relationship) but the truth is, dunno how to initiate a conversation, but a total opposite if I open up---friendly, ambivert, witty, laughing loudly on a daily basis---like my happiness is too shallow, super talkative, eats a lot (yeah I can finish a huge slice of cake or a meal in one sitting), awkward, daydreamer (I got embarrassed from knocking at the door even I'm inside the classroom 😂), EXTREMELY CLUMSY (mostly gets bruises from hitting, bumping my head somewhere, walking into something on my way, and being careless to my belongings), secretly likes affection, easily overwhelmed, prone to melt over wholesomeness, flusters on compliments, lightly blushes on cheesy banters, eager to share what I know (especially about Catholic Church---my past teacher joked that I'll become a saint because of it 🤣), oftenly speaks full of sarcasm with a lowkey crackhead energy citing meme references, and talented girl who can be your no.1 supporter and unashamed to be true to myself but can be awkward to strangers. In terms of leadership, I only educate and guide than being a prefect (I might take the role seriously), will lift my group when there's lacking/incompleteness. About doing projects in school, I become too extra and prepared for efforts, but I'll forget the process in the end.

The extent, I'm expressive, warm-hearted, willig to help, kind, intelligent, supportive, nice, creative, enthusiastic, laid-back, determined, tough, competitive, and feisty outside, but a real softie that can be childish and dramatic that cries so easily (but will enlightened real quick by smallest things that makes me smile) filled with doubts, frustrations, and insecurities with fear of failure that pushes off the limits to to please everyone because they might get dissappointed from expectations---I simply can't stop proving myself too much because I'm a survivor of bullying. But I still managed to be stronger than ever after I stumbled, even it's a slow burn process. I can be blunt, intimidating, harsh, and a douchebag if I receive ends or I got interrupted while doing something. Immature, headstrong, perfectionist, demanding, hesitant, jumpy, forgetful, overthinker, quick-tempered, sensitive, and anxious (no joke, my nervousness makes me think worse scenario will arrive). Though can be procrastinator and arrogant, I raised as a religious 𝖺𝗇𝖽 diplomatic youth, willing to fight what I believe (including my dreams and what's important to me) and what is right. In addition, I have a habit of staying up late and doing sign of the cross to ease nervousness.

Rowdy and feeling-brokenhearted and bitter friend in the group who fangirl a lot, swears like sailor, will call out on people that we loathe, will make fun of your stupidity (in a good way) before helping, and bring gossips, but a hopeless romantic and cheeky (makes banter with sarcasms or pick up lines as an endearment, but gets annoyed if I received sappy or offensive one), Still generous and concerned person in a subtle and different way.

𝗛𝗢𝗕𝗕𝗜𝗘𝗦

My hobbies are singing, drawing, roleplaying, listening to music, chatting/browsing on social media, conceptualizing, writing, and reading some stuffs. I'll include making corniest jokes/puns, sleeping, and dancing when nobody's around or walking like a model if I feel so bold (even I'm terrible at both xD). I also used to learn Italian language a bit.

𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦

Loves kittens, milk tea, singing at the karaoke, cartoons, iced coffee, memes, cute things, watching YouTube videos (mostly pageants, ASMR, edit audios, and mukbangs), also enjoys playing games on my sister's PSP. Sucker for arts, choir, poetry, night sky, makeup, fun/deep/dumb conversations, Christianity, documentaries (about saints, real crime stories, and inspirational people), reading interesting stuffs, talking about social issues, and creative writing, chilling both indoors and outdoors. Beside that, my music taste are like late 90s-2000s songs (mostly rock, pop, and country) sometimes Catholic songs, kpop and ppop, chocoholic, and a sweetooth as well.

𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦

Things that I hate are stereotyping, HUGE creepy crawlies (spiders, toads, snakes, and cockroaches), firecracker sounds, thunder and lightning, being left out, loneliness, heart break, blackout, and judgemental people. If I found out that someone hates or backstabbing or being rude to me, I won't hesitate to throw offensive criticisms, leaving them with a "I don't give a f" attitude. One random fact about me is, I 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 vent out EVERYTHING I despise in my entire existence---from bad soap operas to toxicity, worse scenarios in real life, and how terrible is my love life from unrequited feelings that I got, because it's a big deal for me, and I consider forcing me to do what I'm not into and manipulating me as my major pet peeves.

𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗚𝗘𝗥𝗦

In terms of triggers...I only have two which are ta𝖨king about divorce/annullment/separation because I came from a generational broken family (it sucks that some people I knew assumed that the reason why I'm overly unaware that someone is interested in me in secret, is I have "high standards" looking for a partner, but the truth is I'm strict and I have a personal preferences...I know my worth and I don't want settle for less!) and religion/beliefs discrimination, cause' there are reasonings that doesn't makes sense because some, sounds too hypocritical, like as if you're a morally good person.

𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 + 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗨𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗦

My love languages are quality time and gift giving, but I actually swoon over physical touch (especially cuddles and cute kisses) and words of affirmation when it comes to having a partner, though I get attracted so easily, matured but can be a goofy person who's nice, friendly, kind-hearted, loving, faithful, and excels in academics is my cup of tea. Whenever I have a real life crush (which is rare), I act the same but deep inside, my heart is about to explode and will eventually share to my trustful friends how I highly admire that person, however if they spilled the beans out, I'll obviously deny it and will cry if they like someone else, it will take some time for me to move on, now I don't care for them anymore.

Best Friends to Lovers is my ideal trope because I find it very cute since you already knew each other before dating (which happened to my 2nd cousin, she married her best friend!)---perfect balance for romance, laughters, comfort, and tears when it comes to sharing your vibes, being there through thick and thin, safe with embraces, and helping each other to grow.

𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗩𝗜𝗔𝗦

My best assets are smile, eyes, personality, singing voice, artistic skills, writings, intelligence, oratorical skills and I have potential in hosting...so I can consider myself as a singer, artist, orator, speaker, and a top student who's a former active campus ministry member with three roles (choir leader, psalm singer, and reader).

May sounds different but I'm passionate for helping people through my talents and sharing my story to inspire everyone. I may look selfish, but I have a different way on how I show that I actually care also I have a biased sentimental value

Currently a college freshman, learning how to cook. I have so many interests, to the point I don't know what I'm into because of my dreams to become a popular Filipino YouTuber, a novelist, and being part of a successful chorale competing internationally...I also consider joining pageants at school too once the pandemic ends, but maybe.

HP: Remus!

- Remus is also quiet and a bit reserved when he's not in a familiar situation, so your own first impression on him would be a good one, as you'd seem similar to his own personality. He's sweet and is able to start up a conversation if he notices the other person is having a hard time doing so, so hopefully he'd be able to bring out your more extroverted and friendly self after a while so he can be around the more open you. He wouldn't mind you being a bit awkward-he's very much the same way-honestly, the comradery that would come from that would be more positive than anything else. He loves sharing knowledge and learning about new things, so your eagerness to talk about what you know would work really well also! He does a lot better when he knows someone has his back too, so your extra supportive nature would endear him to you as well.

SW: Han!

- Your nicer and more helpful personality would balance out Han's more standoffish vibes when first meeting. You might get on his nerves a bit first, but you'd quickly grown on him and, in turn, make him a bit of a better person. Your ability to be blunt and a bit harsh would serve you well if you ever needed to stand your ground on an issue that two of you have, as he can be quite stubborn.

VLD: Lance!

- Lance can be a bit immature from time to time as well, especially when it comes to trying to be funny or cheering up those around him-he's also headstrong and typically firm in what he wants to do, so your own determined personality would attract him to you a lot as well. He often puts off things he needs to do if they make him anxious too, but if you both recognize that you share that problem, helping each other might be a good solution!

Disney: Flynn!

- Flynn is quite a sarcastic and teasing person, so your own humor would match well with his. He's also quite a hopeless romantic as well, even though he's certainly not one to admit that right off the bat. He enjoys singing, and as he gets closer to someone he feels more comfortable doing so in front of them, so a partner he's been with for a long time would get to see him be more and more open with it. That also applies to activities like dancing.

#hp matchup #remus lupin #sw matchp #han solo #vld matchup #lance mcclain #disney matchup #flynn rider

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king-there0f · 3 years ago

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CHARACTER MASTERLIST

I didn’t realize until this moment the sheer quantity of characters I have. Feel free to peruse at your leisure.

GUILD WARS: FACTIONS

MOKONA (She/Her)

Ranger/Elementalist

Second in command of a very small guild that has lofty goals but mostly does small menial tasks for local townsfolk. Energetic, hot-headed, and ambitions. She loves to be right. She and Vaan have an interesting on again, off again casually romantic relationship. They cannot decide if they like each other or hate each other.

GUILD WARS 2

HUMAN

MATTHIAS (He/Him)

Ranger

Leader of a small guild. Age has softened him considerably. Where he was once quick to judge others, he has been tempered and widened by time and experience. Takes his leadership role very seriously. Descendant of Mokona. Grew up in Divinity’s Reach so he is a city boy, through and through.

SARAH (She/Her)

Deadeye

Zero faith in humanity, big flirt. Big gay for one Sylvari in particular. In a wonderfully, if not surprisingly, long term steady relationship with Nierium. Lose friends with Matthias, though they have more of a “trading favors” relationship than anything else. She will stab you in the back for cash money. She’s not in Matthias’ guild, but functions more like an independent contractor.

NADIAH (She/Them)

Ranger

A trapeze artist in an Elonian circus. She handled the animals before she was reassigned to the trapeze, on account of the former trapeze artist being decommissioned due to a tragic circus related accident. She practices Raptor Racing in her rare free time. Aloof. Talks to her pets. Cannot cook.

SYLVARI

MARJAH (He/Him)

Tempest

A tender hearted and gentle Sylvari. Well attuned to the Dream, feels a deep sense of connection to those around him. A member of Matthias’ guild. He and Matthias historically have not gotten on well, but as they have both grown, they have learned to forgive each other. Marjah cares for people deeply and is very in tune with his emotions. While he and Olly were not part of each other’s dreams before they woke, they share a special bond and are as close as brothers.

ASTEREAUX (He/Him)

Spellbreaker

A headstrong, a determined lad. Surprisingly self aware, he really takes the whole meditating thing to heart. He feels it calms him. He loves to swim, see new places and meet new people. Has a tendency to be anxious, but is working on being more reliable. Great outdoor skills, very handy. Cannot do math. Hates the cold.

KERXSUS (He/Them)

Mirage

Met a Nightmare Courtier very early upon waking and was intrigued by their sympathetic nature. He does not get very caught up in right VS wrong. Has a fascination for insects and arachnids, and keeps several as odd pets. Bit of a mad scientist type. Loves shiny things and likes to adorn himself with pretty gems. Very nearsighted. probably a monsterfucker.

THALLIAH (She/Her)

Elementalist

An energetic and enthusiastic Sylvari with a passion for problem solving, floral arrangements, and cute animals. She’s the assistant to Cal, and together they run a very successful wedding planning business called Calla Lilly Wedding Planners. She is good at multitasking and delegating important tasks. Once she did last minute alterations on a bride’s dress minutes before the ceremony was meant to begin. You can count on her in a pinch.

ASPHREAH (They/Them)

Necromancer

They are more attractive than you and they know it. Not an official member of the Nightmare Court, but might do the odd job for them. More of an independent contractor. Appreciates fancy clothes. Will accept payment in the form of rare out of print books of poetry. Wine snob. Would rather not perform strenuous tasks. Thinks Norn are hot. Cannot deal with hot weather.

HIT IMAGE CAP, CLICK HERE FOR PART II

#my art #original character #gw2 #guild wars 2 #sylvari #guildwars2 #dnd #dungeons and dragons #reference #character masterlist

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etirabys · 4 years ago

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Downbelow Station, a fanfic summary

I’ve been writing fic for this tiny book fandom and have at least a few fandom acquaintances who want to read my fic but don’t want to read the book. This is a summary of what happens in the novel, whose heart, to me, is the relationship between a mindwiped ex-slave and a cross-cultural married couple who take him in under their protection.

The premise

People are in space, since the Earth Company started establishing space stations around increasingly distant stars for manufacturing/trade. There are several types of people:

Stationers stay on one station – stations were originally established by the Earth Company but have since gained de facto independence because Earth is so far away

Merchanters live on ships and trade – family very important to them, so is family name, regularly deal with Stationers as part of their life but find settling down very foreign. More sexually opportunistic than Stationers, possibly less monogamous.

Earth Company Fleet soldiers live on ships; originally under the control of Earth Company, as of novel start have gone kind of rogue, will continue to go even more rogue over the course of the novel

Citizens of Union, a... nation in space that grew in the deepest reaches, furthest away from Earth's influence. Union is currently trying to annex everyone else. Earth Company is trying to resist this through their Fleet. However, Earth Company is not very enthusiastic about this war and have been drawing out; the Fleet thinks it's important to keep fighting and keep doing dipshit moves like impressing Merchanter ships and ?? maybe looting stations a little bit to keep going.

Azi of Union – a genetically engineered underclass specific to Union. Basically designer subs. I believe the word azi is never brought up in Downbelow Station, but it's very clear a character is an azi, and what that means is explained in Cyteen, which takes place in the same universe. Union citizens use 'tapes' casually and at-will for fast learning and entertainment and conditioning, but starting later in life. Azi grow up on tape – their psyches are designed to be good at whatever they were designed to do, whether that's soldiering or psychologizing or childcare. Azi require varyingly regular check-ins with a Supervisor, who is an assigned person who tells the azi they are Very Good and On Course With Their Lives and give them tapes to keep them aligned with their values and mentally stable. Azi have normal human names but also an ID that looks like AO-1234, where the first alphabet character indicates what ‘class’ you are – an Alpha-class azi is probably far smarter than your average citizen and is more capable of functioning independently. Azi can win citizenship, but so far the only people onscreen who’ve done so are Alpha-class azi.

The cast

Damon Konstantin is a head of Legal Affairs on Pell Station, and the son of the Stationmaster, which is apparently a hereditary position. Despite the hereditariness Pell seems to have the most familiar culture to me, a 21st century American expecting democracy and rule of law. Pell Station is special – it orbits a human-livable planet called Downbelow, and there are only three such planets under human control. This means the planet can be used as a base for ‘bioform production’ (a vague category encompassing everything you can grow on a planet but not a space station) and makes Pell strategically valuable. The other two livable planets are Earth, under the control of the Earth Company Fleet’s nominal masters, and Cyteen, the base of Union operations. Pell is neutral, as many star stations try to be.

Elene Quen is a Merchanter who stepped off her ship to marry Damon. They’ve been married for four months at novel start. Her formal role is liaison with Merchanters.

Joshua Talley is a soldier of Union who was captured when Union forces sabotaged (blew up) a station called Mariner Station. He was tortured for information on another station – Russell’s – whose inhabitants feared the same fate for themselves. He had nothing to give them – he was a medium-level technician/soldier, an ‘armscomper’, which I think means he was the person pressing buttons to fire on targets or programming the weapons to fire on targets. During his interrogation Russell’s station was also sabotaged, ensuing in a mass evacuation.

Signy Mallory is one of the ~10 captains of the Earth Company Fleet. She is commanding and very deadly, commands fanatical loyalty from her soldiers. She’s also a sexual sadist. When she comes to evacuate Russell’s Stationers from a failing space station she finds that they have a Union POW who is very pretty, and takes him into her personal quarters for their journey to Pell. It is not said how she rapes him but it was a lot. Joshua thinks of this part as worse than the previous interrogation.

The events from there

When the Fleet arrives at Pell Station, they are convoying huge ships full of thousands of refugees from stations sabotaged / fallen to Union. It has been weeks or months since they started out. The ships were overpacked, many inside are dead, the culture of the ships has quickly turned anarchic/violent.

Angelo Konstantin, master of Pell, says "wtf, we can't take all these people, we don't have space. We literally cannot do this." The Fleet says, “You better,” unloads the highly upset and sick refugees, and leaves. Pell Station clears out two sectors of their station and makes it the 'quarantine zone', later shortened to Q. Conditions are very bad in Q and what to do with the violent, desperate people inside, many of whom cannot prove who they were in their past lives, when Pell doesn’t have the capacity to relocate them, is an ongoing problem throughout the novel.

Before leaving, Signy Mallory also said, "in addition to the refugee crises we unloaded on you, here is a Union prisoner of war we transported separately because the refugees would have killed him", and dumps Joshua on Pell leadership.

Around this time, Elene Quen finds out that her ship was destroyed when Mariner Station blew up. She now has no blood family, and Merchanters put great cultural emphasis on having clan and name. She decides to have a kid, talking Damon into it.

Joshua Talley is extremely depressed and keeps asking for a mindwipe so he can live as a normal citizen on Pell rather than being indefinitely detained. Mindwipes are used on stations as a consensual way of rehabilitating criminals. His captors are reluctant – it’s tantamount to execution. Damon Konstantin is the final permission-giver on the issue and gives it in the end. The process of mindwipe (or Adjustment) necessarily causes the person to regurgitate their whole life. This is recorded. Due to this, he discovers only after the mindwipe is complete that Josh was tortured on Russell’s with mindwipe drugs (presumably for the same regurgitating-your-whole-life property) and then raped on Signy Mallory’s ship on the way to Pell, and that wanting to wipe out the trauma was the real reason he wanted a mindwipe.

Damon feels really bad about this. He checks up on Josh Talley a lot when he's recovering from the mindwipe. He and his wife Elene decide to 'sponsor' him when he's rejoining normal society on the ship. Elene does so through some personal resistance – Josh once belonged to the military force that wiped out her family. They check in with a guy who doesn’t remember much of anything but definitely has abandonment issues and is afraid of emotional entanglement with people.

Josh Talley quietly converts much of his internal body mass into gooey loyalty.

Plot chaos. The station comes to be formally occupied by the Fleet, who wants to use it as their new base of operations, and a Union saboteur named Gabriel who talks to Stationmaster Angelo Konstantin’s main rival and conspires to bring him to power instead...

There’s a part I really really want to summarize here where Josh tries to fall on grenade for the Quen-Konstantins – literally, trying to take an action that would end in his death but keep them safe from the Fleet – and they show up and say “you idiot, never do that again” and bring him back to their apartment and say “while the Fleet is suspicious of you, you are living HERE, so everyone knows you are under our protection. Forget your old job, we’ll find you something working closely with Damon every day – while you’re in sight they can’t get at you.” But I can’t find a non-confusing way to relay it, sorry.

Soon after that, the Union saboteur succeeds. Angelo Konstantin is assassinated. His rival, Jon Lukas, takes his place, and starts enacting subtly Union-friendly policies. I think this somehow happens concurrently with the Fleet still using Pell as a base of operations. It’s highly chaotic. Elene flees the chaos on a Merchanter ship whose family she knows. Damon and Josh, fearing whoever assassinated Angelo, hide within the more bad and chaotic parts of the station (I honestly don’t believe the author when she says they managed this for months – Pell has tens of thousands of people, that’s not a lot! You could close each sector at a time and sweep everyone!). This part feels like big missed opportunity to me – they spend their time moving from hiding place to hiding place, coming up with hopeless schemes that they know they’ll never enact. One infers they got much closer, but the author doesn’t go into that either. The one delight that comes out of this sequence is that Josh becomes more assertive and competent than we’ve ever seen him – being in hiding, under danger, brings out submerged training. He’s not a dependent anymore – arguably in some places he’s in lead.

In the middle of this, Josh makes contact with the Union saboteur, Gabriel, who hails him as a colleague and informs him that they’re of the same kind. They have the same training. The story Josh gave Russell’s interrogators, and Pell, that he was a mid-tier technician, is an implanted set of memories that automatically flushes his real ones when he was under duress.

This means, although the author never explores it, that Josh was probably integral to destroying Mariner Station, and concomitantly responsible for Elene’s family’s deaths.

Josh asks Gabriel for safe passage to the planet Downbelow for both himself and a companion. Gabriel acquiesces, but is shocked when the companion Josh brings to the meeting is the Konstantin heir. He starts to say, “Well, well, what a useful person you have brought me –” and then gets shot by a Fleet soldier who’s following reports of a suspicious person. (My fic Half-Silvered Mirror diverges from canon at this point, and asks what would have happened if Gabriel had his way.)

Now in the hands of the Fleet, Josh and Damon meet with Signy Mallory again. Josh isn’t what Mallory remembers – as a rape victim he was passive, inward-turned. This Josh is articulate and emotional and loyal. Damon isn’t what she expects, either – he manages to jab at her conscience about what the Fleet has become, lawless and unmoored from any democratic interest. She plans to execute both of them the next day.

Due to convoluted plot reasons, she doesn’t. She turns against the rest of the Fleet, which for their own reasons is headed back towards Earth – to conquer. Her ship, Norway, enters a standoff against Union warships over Pell. Which isn’t on course to go well for her, until someone broadcasts at both of them that Pell is now under Merchanter claim. Elene, while out in space, has been convincing Merchanters to form an unprecedented coordination bloc. She demands Pell for the Merchanter Alliance and informs the Union military leader, Azov, that if he doesn’t acquiesce all Merchanter ships in her fleet will refuse to trade in Union space.

She wins. The scene when she docks at Pell and walks in, pregnant and victorious, to kiss her husband, is one of the most visually !!! scenes.

In the aftermath, Azov tries to take Josh back for Union. Damon says nope, he’s ours. Josh, what do you want? Josh says nothing. Looks at nothing. But when Azov and the other Union soldiers leave, he stays.

And afterwards, he goes to Signy Mallory – whose ships now constitute Pell’s militia – and asks, sincerely, to work as crew on her ship for a while. He says he can’t live on a station comfortably. That the stationers know him, and his past. (Not sure how true this is.) Mallory says it’s nothing another mindwipe can’t cure, and he says he doesn’t want to forget. “I’ve got something. The only real thing. All that I value.”

“So you go off and leave it?”

“For a while.”

Comments

There’s... so much I want to write about and explore.

Did Elene know when Josh left that he was probably responsible for her family’s death? (My fic Awarding Damages is about one way they could resolve this)

What did Signy Mallory do to Josh? Can he handle working under her?

Damon and Elene are so parental to Josh, and they're also embarking on having a family in a dynastic way where having a clan is their way of asserting that they exist and are rooted in the world. And of course Josh is going to feel really weird about how he fits into that – he's only watching it happen because he's a charity case, of course he's going to have no involvement in that project – what place is left for him anyway, he has no one and is nothing. I want this man to have feelings about family and how he doesn't have one and then HAVE A FAMILY I want him to hold the baby and go "OH. You are a biological composite of the two greatest people in the world. I cannot hold it against you that you are now going to push me out of my current living situation with the two greatest people in the world"

Due to the amount of mindfuckery Josh has gone through, it’s unclear to both him and the reader how many his memories are real. What does that do to a person?

From what I know of azi from Cyteen, Josh has psychological needs – again, he’s like a bred sub – that non-Unioners aren’t going to understand. Can he get them met? How does he negotiate that?

#rambl #downbelow station #cj cherryh #small book fandom pitch

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doomarchives · 4 years ago

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David Annandale’s The Harrowing Of Doom: An In-Depth Review

So, I was kindly offered an advance reviewer’s copy of The Harrowing of Doom by David Annandale for the Marvel Untold series, a new prose line revolving around Marvel’s villains. Although I’m not personally familiar, the author’s prior written work and academic scholarship indicated a strong background in fantasy, science fiction, as well as horror film and literature - all essential elements of Doom himself honestly, whether in his character, design, or formative influences. A promising start from the outset!

To no one’s surprise, I was especially excited for this one. Doctor Doom is both my favorite Marvel character and area of nerdy comics expertise, and Annandale sounded like the perfect candidate to tackle him.

The Harrowing of Doom centers around a conflict familiar to those who know the character. Taking place fifteen years after his ascension to the throne, Victor von Doom is still hellbent on rescuing the soul of his mother, Cynthia, trapped in hell by the demon Mephisto. His yearly attempts to save her have been fruitless thus far, but he believes he can really do it this time, enlisting the help of a new character, Maria von Helm, and some of his lesser known subjects (also new characters) to accomplish the task, by building a machine called The Harrower. The noble scheme is further complicated by the reappearance of Prince Rudolfo Fortunov, son of the monarch deposed and murdered by Doom years prior, who is equally determined to take back what he believes is his birthright by any means necessary. The novel is a relatively dense and detailed one, and as a true blue Doom enthusiast, I have a dense and detailed review to match.

The first thing that I personally take note of in any material involving Doom is the author’s perspective on the truth of Latveria’s “benevolent dictatorship.” It immediately speaks volumes about a writer’s perception of Doom’s accountability and sense of morality; it kind of ends up coloring his entire characterization. That being said, I was really pleased by the evenhandedness with which Annandale treats Doom’s Latveria and his influence upon his subjects. It slots in neatly with some of the greats, Lee & Kirby, Jonathan Hickman, Roger Stern, etc with the acknowledgement that Doom is indeed a despot with an iron fist and a will absolute, but one who cares for the wellbeing of his country. Through dialogue from his subjects like the skittish Father Grigori Zargo and diehard loyal Captain Kariana Verlak, the reader gets the sense that Doom’s rule may be the best leadership Latveria has ever known. (A brief aside: another great strength of The Harrowing of Doom that has to be mentioned is the fleshing out of these different original characters. Maria von Helm was a particularly welcome addition, as a close friend of Doom’s mother and a far more empathetic magic user compared to him.)

Verlak is openly married to Dr. Elsa Orloff, a trans woman and neurosurgeon of international renown. Both of them had experienced the Fortunov rule that predated Doom’s, with Orloff even having fled Fortunov’s Latveria when she first come out as transgender, in fear of his tyrannical rule and the dangerously transphobic legislature he enforced called “The Laws of the Person.” It is apparent that Doom exists in obvious juxtaposition to the prior ruler’s bigotry. Beyond the total erasure of all previous discrimination and state-enforced bigotry, he has Verlak appointed in a role of great prominence, gave Orloff the tools she needed to succeed in her field, and even shares an exchange with her where he remarks that he knows her from her publications in the Lancet Neurology and that he appreciates them for their “speculative” approach. In an excellent exchange between Father Zargo and the rebel Prince Fortunov, the priest, who is by far Doom’s number one fan, explains Doom’s mesmerizing hold on the populace and the benefits they reap from his rule, despite it being a despotic one:

“I’ll be explicit, all the same,” said Zargo. “Doom is a sun king, even more fully than Louis XIV ever was. Latveria is a world power. How? Because of Doom and only because of Doom. Latveria’s strength and its wealth come from his inventions. And the beams of his sun touch every citizen. Universal basic income, free healthcare, free schooling, free universities, free training to the highest level of your calling - all of these things flow from Doom.”

“Free?” Fortunov snarled.

“The price is obedience, yes,” said Zargo, “And yes, Doom is feared.” Zargo stopped himself from saying Vladimir was feared and hated. [...] “Even though Doom is feared, he also is Latveria in every sense that matters.”

What I really appreciated was the author’s ability to walk the tightrope of acknowledging how beneficial Doom is for the country and his protectiveness over his domain, whilst also acknowledging Doom’s intense paternalism that ultimately favors his own goals. Doom, as well-read comic fans would know, is heralded as one of Marvel’s master manipulators. It’s a great strength of this novel to see him exerting his willpower and the strength of his personality to manipulate and sometimes, fully overpower that of his subjects. Father Zargo is definitely the most profound victim of this, a man with ties to both the church and the occult. Through the novel, Doom insistently pushes him towards the latter, his priorities made clear in one sentence: “The work was what mattered. Zargo’s soul was not Doom’s concern.” An especially interesting scene occurs later in the novel. Without too much elaboration, Doom performs an experiment where he uses the old Latverian nobility as guinea pigs. This was something I immensely liked, corroborating one of my own personal perceptions of Doom. It’s always made sense to me that Doom would continue to hold a certain amount of disdain for Latverian high society, even after he went from low class Romani boy to monarch himself.

(“The Fantastic Origin of Doctor Doom,” Fantastic Four Annual #2.)

Afterwards his partner, Maria von Helm, muses aloud that she always wondered why Doom let vestiges of the old regime remain, to which Doom responds: “Now you know. The aristocracy has its uses, and the advantages of being disposable.” It’s maybe my favorite example in the book of the exceptions to Doom’s purported benevolence. He does want the country to flourish and for his subjects to prosper, but this intent can be superseded by his innately ambitious nature and his own personal biases. It’s clear at several points in the book that Annandale is obviously well-read on Doom himself, but it was especially in the capturing of this nuance that it really stuck out to me in a big way. (As well as the fun reference to Doom’s brief jaunt in the French Riviera in Supervillain Team-Up!)

Outside of this core aspect of his characterization, I really enjoyed how the novel not only built up Doom’s cult of personality, but emphasized the sheer magnetism of Doom himself, in person. Constantly, characters find themselves buffeted by strength of his will, craving his approval or cowering and scrambling to avoid his displeasure. It’s a great true-to-character depiction of interactions between Doom and Latverian citizens, dynamics that were only touched upon briefly in the periphery of most comics involving Doom. I think, ironically, this is also perhaps the source of one of the novel’s few weaknesses. By keeping the book very Latveria-focused, Annandale does an excellent job of adding world-building on every level, from expounding on Latverian national holidays to the layouts of Doomstadt to the country’s storied history with witches predating Doom and his mother. But the fact that Doom mostly interacts with those beneath him or those who work for him gives the reader a bit of a myopic, overtly flattering perspective of him as almost too certain, too powerful, too unfeeling. I suppose it serves the scope of the novel for Doom to be more an obelisk of a man than fully well-rounded, but I contest that one of the best things about his character is that his indomitable exterior hides a deep well of pain and uncertainty.

(“In The Clutches of Doctor Doom,” Fantastic Four #17.)

(“Oath of Fealty,” Doctor Doom #7.)

The novel obviously perceives Doom as Byronic, there’s even excerpts from Manfred interspersed between chapters that I greatly enjoyed, but I did find the heart of the Byronic character a little lacking here. Where Manfred bares his soul alone in monologue or to others, Doom, for the most part, does not. There are definitely brief allusions to the trials he’s faced, but he seems rarely prone to doubt or vulnerability until the very end. (For example, the central task is the attempt to rescue Cynthia von Doom’s soul, but little time is spent dwelling on this very human connection between mother and son.) Or even self-admitted imperfection! Interestingly, I only ever caught one mention of his scars in the entire novel.

The Harrowing of Doom seems to prescribe to the line of thought that the mask is the only true face of Doom’s that matters, but I think with that philosophy, it stays firmly within the character’s own comfort zone. And his psyche never feels truly challenged, because there’s no worthy challenger. Doom knows without a doubt that he is Fortunov’s superior, so there’s no real interpersonal friction there. It left me keenly interested in seeing how the author would write Doom in the presence of someone like Reed Richards, an opponent who has historically brought out Doom’s baser instincts and invoked his self-doubt, drawing out his flaws and humanity in the process. Hopefully Marvel approves a sequel!

Doubtlessly, it’s still a strong entry into Marvel’s Doom canon and an excellent read for anyone who enjoys the character and is familiar with his history. The novel gives a sprawling, detailed look at Latveria and fleshes out both country and countrymen with aplomb. I took real delight at the indirect peeks at Doom’s personality through other characters’s observations or simple exposition. Some notable examples include Doom’s occult librarian wondering if he had been appointed out of spite of his witch-hunter ancestry, Zargo noting the west wing of Werner Academy was dedicated to clinical research in a nod to Werner von Doom’s work as a healer, and my favorite: the paintings within Castle Doom being impressionistic depictions of Doom’s ancestors, “people long buried, long forgotten, and in their lifetimes ignored or worse.”

The conflict also moves at an engaging, brisk pace and smartly takes advantage of the widely known fact that Doom is preoccupied every Midsummer Night and turns that into an opening to be exploited by Fortunov, who also is well characterized throughout the novel and even experiences his own personal growth.

(“Though Some Call It Magic!”, Astonishing Tales #8)

Essentially, the product is a great novel about Doctor Doom influenced by strong comic lore knowledge, Gothic and Romance literature, horror cinema (According to the author, Doom’s lab is modeled after the lab from The Bride of Frankenstein!), and fantasy. If that sounds like something up your alley, definitely check it out. It gets a wholehearted recommendation from me.

About Marvel Entertainment

Marvel Entertainment, LLC, a wholly-owned subsidiary of The Walt Disney Company, is one of the world’s most prominent character-based entertainment companies, built on a proven library of more than 8,000 characters featured in a variety of media for over eighty years. Marvel utilizes its character franchises in entertainment, licensing, publishing, games, and digital media.

#victor von doom #doctor doom #media type: book #Marvel #MarvelEnt #aconyte books #review

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youngjusticeslut · 4 years ago

Text

Remember

Fandom: Young Justice Links: FF.net // AO3 Characters: Artemis Crock, Dick Grayson, M’gann M’orzz, Conner Kent, Kaldur’ahm, Wyynnde, Garth, Wally West, mentions of Jade, Lian, Paula, Roy, Shalaina, Barbara, Zatanna and Raquel. Summary: In the six months after Wally's ceasing, the six members of the original team each remember him in their own way. // or, how the team copes with his death. Rating: T Word Count: 4k Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters.

The Watchtower June 23rd, 23:16 EDT

Conner puts himself in charge of Wally’s hologram before anyone else can offer.

He knows that he’s the most logical choice. Kaldur will want to do it, but will get too caught up dealing with the team that he’ll put himself on the backburner. M’gann won’t be able to look at the memorial without crying. Artemis is too much of a wreck. And Dick… Dick is gone.

Sure, someone else could have done it. They could have left it to the League. Or Bart. Bart would have readily taken it on and roped Flash into helping. It wouldn’t have felt right, though. Wally was one of them. The original six. It’s only fair that one of them handles it.

In the three days it takes them to build the hologram, Conner handles the harder things. Memorial arrangements. Consoling the team. Picking up whatever slack he can load on his shoulders. He keeps busy.

Everyone else needs time to grieve. More than he does, at least. Grief is an emotion he can easily control. It nestles inside him, content, easily ignored when more pressing matters come to play. It’s always been this way. When people get hurt, or die, he’s always the one they can count on to keep things going. It’s instinct, by now. And truth be told, it helps him feel a little bit better.

When the hologram is finished, Conner stays behind and stares up at it. None of this is fair. Artemis shouldn’t have to go through this pain. Dick shouldn’t have to live without his best friend. Wally should have continued to live, to be their friend.

But he’s gone now, and someone has to step up. Bart may have filled Wally’s shoes as the new Kid Flash, but being a hero was only a part of his legacy. After Kaldur, Wally always made sure that everyone was taken care of. He’d hang around the Cave and make sure all the new members got acquainted. If anyone needed a place to crash, Wally’s home, and then his and Artemis’, was always a safe haven. He’d organized game nights, movie nights, team outings. With him gone, there’s nobody left to take care of everyone else.

Nobody, except him. For so long, Conner fought the idea of leadership. Everyone’s role on the team was well defined. Kaldur was the leader. Artemis was the spirit. Dick was the brains. M’gann was the power. He was the strength. And Wally was the heart. Conner was comfortable in his role, and he never sought to change it. Things are different, now. It feels like the right time to step up.

Wally was his friend. His first friend. Conner needs to do right by him, to keep his memory alive.

He crouches low, touching the base of the hologram. “You don’t have to worry,” he says, barely speaking above a whisper. “I’ll take care of them for you. I promise.” He’ll make sure that Artemis gets through this. He’ll find Dick and be there for him in any way he needs. He’ll force Kaldur to take breaks and stop overworking himself. And M’gann… he’ll find a way to forgive her and work through their past.

Life’s too short to do anything else.

Happy Harbor July 1st, 13:34 EST

The snickerdoodles don’t taste right.

Wally’s memorial is in two hours, and despite spending the better part of her morning in the kitchen, M’gann has nothing to show for it. She sighs, dumping the fourth batch of cookies into the waste bin. It wouldn’t be right to show up empty handed. Wally would never forgive her.

Ignoring the pang in her chest, M’gann straightens up and rolls up the sleeves of her sweater, resolved to try again.

“Let’s see,” she mutters to herself, pulling up the recipe in her head. “Butter, eggs, flour…” A dash of cinnamon. A sprinkle of salt. The ingredients float towards the dirty mixer, ready for another attempt. Hopefully this time she won’t leave anything out.

The batter comes together easily enough. M’gann has made this recipe enough times that she moves automatically, measuring flour and cracking eggs without so much as a second thought. Keeping her hands busy is good. If she moves, she can’t think. Thinking will only make her cry, and she can’t cry. M’gann doesn’t have that right, especially not today.

Conner, Kaldur, Zatanna, Raquel and her are all in agreement that today, their attention will be on Artemis. Though the former archer puts up a brave front for the sake of the team and keeping things more or less normal, today will be different. Each of them will take turns looking out for her, ensuring that someone is with her at all times. It’s the very least they can do.

As M’gann folds the batter together, her mind turns to Dick. None of them have heard from him since he handed off the team to Kaldur and Barbara. Conner tried visiting his apartment. Artemis texted and called until his phone died. Kaldur persuaded Zatanna to try a locator spell, if only to ensure that their friend was alive. After a few weeks, Artemis informed them that he texted her back.

I’m fine.

Two words. Two words that scream how not-fine he is, but enough to keep them away for a little while longer.

M’gann tastes the batter and crinkles her nose. Something is still missing. She doesn’t have time to mess up another batch, she needs these to come out right. For Wally.

She stares down the batter, pressing her mouth to the side as she thinks. “I put in eggs, the flour, the cream of tartar… what am I missing?” M’gann dips the wooden spoon in the bowl, taking out a piece of soft dough to taste.

Then it hits her. She forgot the sugar.

“Hello, Megan,” M’gann laughs to herself, shaking her head as she grabs the sugar from a nearby cupboard. No wonder the dough doesn’t taste sweet.

“Not as sweet as you, Sugar.”

The bag of sugar drops from her hands and crashes on the floor, spilling everywhere. M’gann takes a shaky breath and grasps the counter until her knuckles go pale, trying to keep the tears from coming to her eyes. She can’t. No. Today’s not her day, she doesn’t get to do this.

Try as she might to regain composure, it’s too late. Every memory, good and bad, resurrect from the back of her mind and start playing without mercy. Wally’s shameless attempts at flirting. All the trays of cookies he’d scarfed down single handedly. The terrible jokes, and the funny ones too.

M’gann slides down until she hits the floor, fighting hard to keep from crying. They’d lost before. Tula. Artemis, even if it was brief. The loss of Wally hits differently. They studied for their exams together. Every recipe she tried, he’d always volunteer to be her taste tester. Good or bad, he’d eat it enthusiastically and ensured that she knew how much she enjoyed it. He was her friend.

Wally always seemed untouchable, like he could survive anything with a smile on his face. Even now, she expects him to just dash into the room and claim that it was all some horrible joke. They’d forgive him, just like they always had before.

Her phone beeps. M’gann sniffles and wipes her eyes before picking it out of her pocket. There’s a text from Kaldur, letting her know that he’ll pick her up in an hour. She sets the phone down and lets out a shaky breath. Maybe five minutes on the floor won’t hurt. She’ll allow herself five minutes, and then she’ll pick herself back up, put on a brave face, and finish baking the cookies.

And she does just that.

Palo Alto August 13th, 15:29 PST

“For the last time, Mom, I don’t need help.” Artemis holds her phone to her ear with her shoulder and tapes up another box. “By the time you’d get here, I’ll be done.”

When the box is taped shut, Artemis pushes it towards the door. This is the last room she has to pack up. One more room, and she’s free. She sets up another empty box and begins to pack up what remains of her closet.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come home? I made up your bed for you.”

Artemis nods, clearing her throat just enough so that she can answer. “I’m sure.” She can’t go home. Paula would see through her in an instant. “What, you don’t trust Jade?” she tries to joke, but the tone comes off wrong. Halfhearted.

Retreating to her sister’s new home is barely a step up from retreating to her mother’s. At least there, her friends won’t drop by unannounced. She’ll have something to do. A toddler to distract her from the heaviness that weighs her down. When Jade suggested it, she couldn’t say yes fast enough. At this point, change is welcomed. Anything to get her out of this house.

“I have to finish packing, Mom. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

Before Paula can add anything else, Artemis hangs up the phone. She knows what would have come next. Pity. Concern for her wellbeing. While she appreciates the concern and she knows everyone is only trying to look out for her, she doesn’t want to hear it anymore. What she wants is to move on.

Artemis is better than she was two months ago. Wally appeared everywhere to her. She saw him in their kitchen. She heard him, singing in the shower. Brucely would whine by the door for hours, waiting for him. Finally, she gave up and camped out at Zatanna’s, if only to keep from completely shutting down.

A month ago, she officially rejoined the team. Artemis couldn’t sit still and feel sorry for herself anymore. She had to do something. Punch something. Make someone feel even an ounce of the pain that she felt every day that Wally wasn’t with her.

The rage subsided. So did the pain. Artemis knows how to tuck it away for a few hours, bury it deep under team duties, coffee dates with M’gann and Zatanna, and babysitting her niece. She grows numb. Hollow. Anything is better than feeling that pain again.

Artemis makes quick work of her closet and tapes up the remainder of her possessions in the last box. She’s glad that she only has to worry about her things. Wally’s family had helped clear out most of his belongings shortly after the memorial.

She hoists up the box and carries it out to the living room, where a stack of boxes already sits by the door. Half of them will be going to storage. She doesn’t want to impose on her sister and brother-in-law. Not after they volunteered to house her and her dog.

Speaking of her dog, Artemis notices that it’s awfully quiet. She’s used to quiet by now, but with Brucely, it isn’t always a good thing. A small smile ghosts her lips. One time, upon leaving him alone for less than ten minutes, her and Wally had found the dog neck-deep in a massive bag of cereal. They’d stayed up all night, watching their dog upchuck Lucky Charms and vowing to keep a better handle on where they kept their food.

Even though it’s a happy memory, it leaves a bitter taste in Artemis’ mouth. Wally would want her to be happy. He’d want her to remember the good times, and use them to find her strength and move on. Maybe one day, she will. One day, when she isn’t angry, or hurt, or numb.

“Brucely?” she calls out, whistling short-after. No response. That’s never a good sign. “Come on, Boy. We can go on one last walk before we have to go.” Still nothing. He must be up to something, Brucely always comes out running when she so much as mentions the word ‘walk’.

Artemis checks the bathroom. Not there. The kitchen is empty. So is her bedroom. She keeps calling his name, but Brucely remains hidden. Finally, after a solid ten minutes of looking, she finds him inside a closet, lying down pitifully.

“There you are,” she sighs in relief, bending down to pet him. “What’s the matter, don’t you want to go live with Jade?”

The dog stares up at her, reflecting her own feelings in his sad brown eyes. Artemis laughs and sits next to him. “Yeah, me neither. But you’ll like it there. Lian will love you. Roy will probably give you extra treats. And Jade…” she bites her lip. “Jade will get over it.”

Brucely huffs, making himself more comfortable on the floor. Artemis notices that he’s guarding something behind him. “What’cha got there, buddy?” she asks, peering closer to look. Behind Brucely is a box. Seems like she missed something.

Artemis carefully moves her dog and takes the small box into her palms. It’s not one of her boxes. Judging by the torn edges and the crumpled, smush state of it, the box is one of Wally’s. Taking a deep breath, she opens it.

Wally and her talked about marriage. They both knew it was an inevitability, but had decided to wait until after college. Wally wanted a huge party, with everyone on the Team and the League invited. Loud music. A massive cake. The whole five yard. Artemis was never really the type of girl to plan out her wedding, so she went along with his ideas, if only because she liked seeing how excited he got about everything.

Now she wishes they hadn’t waited. She wishes that they’d run away, eloped, made the most of their short amount of time together before it was too late. Maybe things would have been different. Maybe he’d still be alive and here with her.

He isn’t though. And now Artemis sits on the floor, holding a ring that was supposed to be hers. All the stitches keeping her together tear apart at the sight of this one little ring.

Brucely whines and sidles up to her before placing his head in her lap. His drool ruins her pants, but she doesn’t care. Artemis leans forward and hugs him, doing her best not to cry, fighting hard to keep away the thoughts of what might have been.

Poseidonis October 30th, 8:19 UTC-2

Of all the strange holidays Kaldur has experienced on the surface world, none confuses him more than Halloween. He isn’t too much a fan of sweets. And the custom of knocking on strangers’ doors, begging for candy baffles him to no end. His team members tried to explain it to him on several occasions, but clearly the holiday is beyond his understanding.

He prefers to spend the holiday back home, visiting his parents, his old friends. Kaldur always found it a better use of his time than partaking in the festivities; he only had so many opportunities to return home, and this was one he always allowed himself to have.

This year, however, is different. Artemis texted him and asked him to join her and Will for his daughter’s first Halloween. At least, the first one they were both there for. He’d tried to decline, but her and Will both sent him a mass of text messages full of pictures from the pouting toddler, and really, what choice did he have? Kaldur has a difficult time denying Artemis much of anything, these days.

As a result, Kaldur plans his trip home a day earlier. For a brief moment, he considers skipping it entirely. Then he remembers his parents, and decides he’s hurt them enough for one lifetime. So, like the good son he is, he returns home and lets his mother shower him with affection. Cal asks him a plethora of questions about how things have changed on the surface world, and Kaldur dutifully answers every single one. When it comes time to leave, he tries his best not to think too hard about how tight his mother hugs him.

Upon leaving his parents, he ponders visiting Queen Mera, and her son. It has been ages since he’s seen little Artur. Kaldur still remembers holding the baby, only a few days after his birth. Artur must be so much bigger now, and the thought puts a smile on his face.

Just as he’s about to head in that direction, Kaldur stops himself. He probably won’t be welcome there. King Orin and him are on good terms, but that doesn't mean he has forgiven him enough to let him near his family. “No,” he muses to himself, “perhaps not today.”

So instead, he swims in the direction of the Zeta tube, keeping his gaze straight ahead. If he just focuses on reaching his destination, he won’t see the Atlanteans who stare at him, and whisper. He won’t hear the vicious words they mutter under his breath, calling him a traitor, the bastard of Black Manta, and worse. Kaldur doesn’t mind it too much. It’s all deserved. The people have every right to feel this way. He was surprised so many had forgiven him as quickly as they had.

“Kaldur, is that you?”

He stops swimming and turns around. It’s Garth. Next to him is a man he remembers seeing, but doesn’t recognize immediately. “Old friend,” he greets, holding out his hand. Garth hesitates, just for a moment, and then grabs his wrist in the usual greeting. Kaldur does his best not to let it get to him.

“I didn’t expect to see you. Are you heading back?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“That’s too bad,” Garth says, letting go of Kaldur’s wrist. “It would have been nice if you could join us.”

“Us?”

“My apologies, I haven’t introduced my friend. Kaldur, this is Wyynde. He was in our class, back at the Conservatory.”

Kaldur turns his attention to Wyynde. Ah, now he recognizes him. Wyynde, the purist. “You were with Oceanmaster,” he blurts before he realizes. No sooner does he say it does his face flush with embarrassment. “I… what I meant was—”

Wyynde gives Kaldur a wry smile. “And you were with Black Manta. But hopefully, those collaborations will remain in the past. Now I am on King Orin’s guard.”

“I see.” Kaldur clears his throat, attempting and failing to hide his embarrassment. “I apologize if I was rude.”

Wyynde waves away Kaldur’s concerns with a lighthearted chuckle. “Not at all. I appreciate the candor.”

Kaldur’s face is still warm, but he knows well enough that it isn’t from embarrassment. He hasn’t felt like this in a long time. Not since… “Well, I must take my leave. I have urgent matters to attend to back on the surface world.”

Helping his friends wrestle a stubborn toddler into a polyester costume and tote her around to collect candy she won't eat. An urgent matter indeed.

Garth rests a hand on Kaldur’s shoulder. “Are you positive you cannot find time to accompany us? It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”

“I do not wish to intrude,” Kaldur makes up quickly. “You and Wyynde must be quite busy.”

“Nonsense! I have heard so many stories about the famed Aqualad. I would be honored if you accompanied us.”

It’s on the tip of Kaldur’s tongue to say no. He should say no. There’s nothing he can gain from getting close to either of them.

“Dude, you can’t be hung up on Tula forever. There’s plenty of fish in the sea. Uh, and by that I mean Atlanteans. Not like, actual fish. Please don’t fall in love with an actual fish.”

The memory is so deep, Kaldur almost can’t believe he recalls it. It’s been a little while since he’s thought about his fallen friend. There was so much to do back then, he packed his feelings about the matter and set them aside, to be handled at a later time.

Still, as much as it hurts him to remember, there must be a reason he hears Wally’s voice inside his head. Wally had always been unsympathetic towards his misfortune with Tula. On countless occasions, he’d tried setting him up on a number of unsuccessful blind dates. None of his tactics had worked, but Kaldur appreciated the attempt.

If Wally were here, he’d tell him to go. There can be no other reason why the memory had surfaced. Staying behind, even for a few more hours, would be the very least he could do for him.

“Well…” Kaldur smiles, then nods. “I suppose just a little while will not hurt.”

Watchtower November 11th, 00:01 EDT

Dick sits in front of Wally’s hologram, cross legged. He’d never missed his friend’s birthday before. Grief be damned, he isn't keen on starting now. His heart is heavy. None of his friends even know that he’s here. He hasn't talked to anyone, really talked to anyone, in months.

After Wally ceased, he needed time. Running the team, the team he, Wally and Kaldur had started, didn't feel right. So he left. He came back for the memorial, and to officially hand the team back to Kaldur, but after that, he officially disappeared. He’s done with teams. At least, for the time being.

He never pictured living his life without Wally by his side. Through thick and thin, they’d been there for each other. They’d fought together, and laughed together. It doesn’t feel right to go on living without him.

But life moves on. Dick distracts himself from his feelings by diving headfirst into detective work, letting the late nights and constant travel take away from the unresolved pain. He watches his friends move on with their lives. Kaldur accepts the role of Aquaman, and M’gann is appointed as team leader. Conner still helps with the team, and Artemis enrolls in a Masters program and spends her free time babysitting her niece. Everyone moves on, together.

All except him.

To give them credit, everyone tried to look out for him. Texts. Calls. Surprise visits when they knew he was home. Barbara comes over more often than she needs to, and even though he isn’t always mentally present, he’s grateful. Still, he keeps everyone at a distance. He just prefers to process things on his own. It’s nothing personal.

Wally’s hologram judges him from above. Dick lets out a shaky breath, looking up at his former friend. “I know,” he sighs. “I’m an asshole.”

From his backpack, Dick pulls out an assortment of chips, every ridiculous flavor he could get his hands on. Wally liked trying the different flavors. Somewhere on his computer, he kept a masterlist of every one he’s tried, and their rankings. “You won’t believe which flavors I found this time. Fried chicken flavored potato chips. Can you believe it? They don’t taste bad, but they’d definitely score low on your yum-o-meter,” he tries to tease. His voice comes off thick.

Dick sets the chips down, his hands shaking. “I miss you, Wall. I know I haven’t really shown it. I know I’ve been an awful friend, an awful person… but what did you expect? You and me, we were supposed to go down together.” He balls his fists, looking down.

The hologram doesn’t respond. Doesn’t move. Just stares ahead, with that same, dorky smile.

After a few minutes, Dick stands up and slings his backpack over his shoulders. This isn't helping. He did his diligence, he visited, he kept the tradition. But right now, it hurts too much to be here.

“Happy Birthday, Wally,” he mutters, before leaving the hologram behind for good.

#young justice #yj #dick grayson #artemis crock #wally west #m'gann m'orzz #conner kent #kaldur #wyynde #I know this isn't the greatest but #I don't care #it's been forever since I wrote YJ #deal w it

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ashiversary · 4 years ago

Text

If We're Honest - Chapter 1

Read the full fic on ao3!

Blanche took a deep breath and straightened their jacket. Then they ran their hands over their hair to double check that it hadn’t gotten mussed when they were overseeing the introduction of a new shipment of Tentacool to one of Team Mystic’s training pools. It was the end of their first week on the job, and Professor Willow had summoned them to his office so that he could introduce them to the representatives from other teams.

Blanche had dreaded this meeting from the moment their assistant, Annie, had entered it in their schedule days ago. While they were capable of carrying out the duties required of their position, Blanche had an unfortunate but notable weakness with social interactions. Annie had worked under the previous Leader of Team Mystic prior to his retirement, and she stressed the importance of good relations between the teams to Blanche in preparation of this meeting. While there was a certain amount of rivalry encouraged between Teams Mystic, Instinct, and Valor, a lot of their research duties required cooperation. Team Instinct, for example, ran most of the hatcheries in the Opal Region, and had contacts with other hatcheries overseas where they could obtain rare pokemon. Therefore, Team Instinct’s cooperation was needed in order for Team Mystic to be supplied with new hatchlings for their research.

Annie had warned them of the type of backlog that could occur when relations were not good, as they had been until Leader Spark took the position with Instinct a handful of months ago.

As for Team Valor, their specialty was pokemon battling and combat. Some pokemon only evolved in battle, and while Mystic could do this themselves, Team Valor was the expert and results were often better when they assisted.

While Annie didn’t say so outright, she implied that Leader Candela of Valor was headstrong and hard to deal with.

It was time. Blanche knocked on the door. “Come in!” Professor Willow called from the other side.

Before Blanche could, the door was opened by a smiling blond man. “Hey! You must be Blanche. I’m Spark.” Blanche’s hand was seized and shaken. “Sorry for not dropping by Mystic HQ to say hi to you. I’m still new too, so there’s a lot to do.”

As he spoke, Spark pulled Blanche into the room by the hand he refused to let go of despite Blanche’s attempts to tug it free. “And here’s Candela!”

Spark gestured at the woman leaning against Professor Willow’s desk. Blanche took advantage of his distraction to yank their hand free.

“Hello! Don’t worry about Spark. He’s enthusiastic but harmless. Mostly, anyway.” Candela’s lips stretched in a grin like she knew something Blanche didn’t.

“I’m Blanche from Team Mystic. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you both,” Blanche said, slipping into formality to soothe their nerves.

Professor Willow smiled at Blanche. If they weren’t mistaken, he looked a bit harried - there were pens stuck behind both of his ears and his glasses were shoved to the top of his head. Blanche wondered if he knew.

“Blanche! Right on time. Thanks for coming,” he said with his warm smile. “Since everyone has been introduced, we can go over a few things…”

The meeting lasted for an hour. The three leaders exchanged contact information and discussed ongoing mutual projects that had been in the works since before Blanche was hired. Blanche took notes on their tablet, asked pointed questions, and was satisfied overall with how the meeting went. Of course they would rather be in the lab, but they understood that a leadership role required a certain amount of bureaucracy.

As the meeting wound to a close and Blanche gathered their things to leave, Spark’s hand clasped their shoulder. Blanche flinched - they had never been overfond of physical contact from anyone other than their twin. “What?”

“We should all have dinner together!” Spark said. His most characteristic expression, if this meeting was any indication, was a wide grin. It was on his face now. “Candy, you too. It’s good for team relations and stuff.”

Candela rolled her eyes at the nickname, but smiled. “Sure, Sparky,” she retorted.

If she intended to come across as rude, it didn’t seem Spark registered it that way. “Great! Whaddaya say, Blanche?”

Blanche brushed his hand from their shoulder. “Perhaps some other time.” Blanche knew that it was important to get along with the other team leaders, but they had used up all of their ‘socializing with new people energy’ to get through this meeting. “It’s still my first week, and I have a lot to get caught up on.”

“Aw, you’re not planning to work all weekend, are ya?” Spark frowned.

Candela laughed. “As if the both of us won’t be doing the same thing! I don’t think I’ve had a proper weekend in…” she counted on her fingers. “Four months?”

“Is that when Silas quit on ya?”

“Yeah. He left the catalogue system a disaster. Charles and I have been working on it whenever we have time, but there’s so much other work-”

While the other leaders were distracted, Blanche took the opportunity to duck out with a last nod to Professor Willow. The door clicked shut behind them, cutting Spark off mid-sentence.

Blanche held in their sigh of relief until they were alone in the elevator. Annie wanted Blanche to go home after the meeting. “Get a proper rest! We can’t have you burning out after your first week,” she’d said. But there was some work Blanche wanted to finish up. There was a clutch of Vaporeon that had evolved that morning, and Blanche planned to assess them in one of the training pools to calculate their stats. That counted as a break, right? They wouldn’t be at their desk.

But Annie, after knowing Blanche for a week, seemed able to predict them.

She was on the deck on the training pool tapping her foot when Blanche entered after changing into a rashguard and swim shorts. “I thought I sent you home,” Blanche said with a frown.

Annie’s hands were planted on her hips. “And I thought I told you not to come back after your meeting!”

Blanche grew up with a strong-willed twin and was not to be pushed around. “The Vaporeon need to be worked with while the evolution is still fresh, so that I can compare their performance now and track how it changes over the next few days and weeks.” As Blanche spoke, they marched past Annie and set the carry case that held the four pokeballs next to the pool. Annie turned to track their movements, but said nothing. “It is best done now. Besides, it relaxes me and I enjoy it.”

Blanche glanced back to see if Annie had further arguments, but she didn’t appear to have heard their arguments. Blanche paused in the act of removing a pokeball from the case. “Problem?”

Annie jolted and a strange look crossed her face. Blanche didn’t know what it meant, but before they could ask, it had been replaced with a sheepish smile. “Oh, no, not at all! I was just looking at your soulmark.” She bit her lip. “I didn’t realize you had one.”

“Oh.” Blanche released the first Vaporeon from its pokeball. It landed in the water with a splash and bobbed to the surface with a smug grin that reminded Blanche of their own Vaporeon, Sushi. Perhaps they could incorporate Sushi into the training later. “It’s not very interesting. Experts estimate that about 80% of the population has a soulmate.”

“I don’t. Have one, I mean.” Annie’s voice was quiet.

Blanche had been about to slip into the pool. At Annie’s words, they froze. They looked back. Her brown eyes were still locked on the complex star marked in blue on Blanche’s left calf. Ah. Their previous words had been inconsiderate. It hadn’t occurred to them that Annie might be among the 20% of people who did not have a soulmate. “I apologize. I didn’t mean-”

Annie was shaking her head. “It’s fine!” She smiled, but it was strained around the edges. “Can I see yours? If you don’t mind. I know some people are very private about them.”

“I don’t mind at all.”

Blanche extended their left leg a bit so that Annie could see better as she came over. She traced the swirls and geometric shapes inside the outline of the star with the tips of her fingers. Then, as though she just realized what she was doing, she snatched her hand away. “Sorry! I should have asked.”

“It’s fine. Are you done looking?” At Annie’s nod, Blanche withdrew their leg and swung into the pool. They tried to do it carefully, but some water still splashed up and soaked the edge of Annie’s coat. “Sorry.”

“No problem.” Annie said cross-legged at the edge of the pool without seeming to care about the water that lapped over the edge as Blanche clapped their hands to call the Vaporeon’s attention to them. It was frisking in the water and did not come when called.

“What’s your soulmate like?” Annie asked.

“I don’t know. I haven’t met them.” The water was hip deep, and the Vaporeon swam away as Blanche waded toward it. Such mischief could be endearing, but not when there was work to be done. “Annie, please throw me one of the poffins in the case.”

Annie leaned over and pulled out the resealable plastic bag of poffins. “Which flavour?”

“It would seem it has an impish or naughty nature. Let’s try spicy to start.” Blanche caught the poffin Annie tossed them and waggled it at the Vaporeon. The pokemon poked its head above the water, nostrils flaring as it scented the treat. It drifted closer and licked its lips.

“If you want a reward, you must do as I say,” Blanche said as the Vaporeon rolled over to its back to attempt to charm Blanche out of the poffin.

“There are sites where you can post photos of your soulmark. They’re supposed to scan the pictures and find if someone else has posted the matching mark,” Annie said, watching as Blanche cajoled the uncooperative Vaporeon through its paces.

Blanche grimaced at the Vaporeon splashed them in the face as it made a grab for the treat. Blanche held it well out of reach and was unmoved by the Vaporeon’s whining and pitiful expression. “No, you haven’t earned it yet,” they scolded. To Annie they said, “I know. I’m not interested.”

After that Annie let the subject drop. Blanche wondered if they had been unkind again, telling her that they had no interest in finding their soulmate while knowing that she did not have one. But such things were personal. And she had been the one to bring up the subject in the first place.

Annie let Blanche go through all of the Vaporeon, but then she insisted that they go home. Maybe Blanche could have pushed the issue, but it didn’t seem worth it. Besides, they wanted to stop by the library on their way home. One of the holds they’d placed at the beginning of the week had come in, and they needed to pick it up.

It was an unpleasant surprise to find their twin, Noire, lounging against their motorcycle when they went down to the parking garage. Blanche stopped under one of the lamps and grimaced. Noire hadn’t noticed Blanche yet, so they had a moment to decide what to do.

Blanche loved their twin. Noire was one of the few people Blanche could say with certainty that they *did* love. The pair of them were found, battered and bruised, in an alley in Orre some 20 years ago with no memory of how they’d gotten there. They’d been inseparable ever since.

Well, until Blanche had decided to pursue a Bachelor’s degree and then acted as an assistant to Professor Oak for a couple years. Noire acted like that had been a huge betrayal, Blanche leaving Noire, and made no secret of the fact that they disapproved of Blanche’s life choices.

Since Noire had chosen to join Team Rocket and lead a life of organized crime, this was extra insulting.

There was no helping it. Blanche’s pushy assistant was doubtless still lurking to make sure that Blanche left the building. Noire had gotten comfortable on Blanche’s means of transportation. Blanche would have to remove them.

The echo of Blanche’s heels caught Noire’s attention and they sat up to watch Blanche approach. “What are you doing here, Noire?” Blanche asked once they were within hailing distance.

Noire rolled their eyes. “I came to see how the new job was going. You said you’d call me, and you never did. What, I’m good enough to help you move into your condo, but not good enough to chat with?”

Blanche winced. “I’m sorry. I got caught up and forgot.” It was the truth. That, and Blanche had gotten out of the habit of calling Noire after years of the silent treatment. Noire hadn’t taken Blanche’s defection from their guardians at Team Rocket well.

“Yeah, okay.” Noire pushed off Blanche’s bike and tucked their hands in the pockets of their slacks. “I just wanted to make sure the science-types hadn’t melted you in a vat of acid or something.”

“No, everything’s fine.” Blanche cursed their own vagueness. “Well. It’s going well.”

“Good. Where we going?”

“You don’t have a helmet.”

Noire nudged a helmet into view with their foot, then kicked it up and caught it. Out of arguments, Blanche put their own helmet on and swung their leg over their bike. They waited for Noire to put their own helmet on and settle behind them. Blanche never liked riding double, but Noire was the only one they’d make an exception for.

When they stopped at the library and pulled their helmets off, Blanche caught sight of Noire’s disgusted face. “What?”

“The library? *Seriously?*” Noire jogged up the steps after Blanche. “What century are we in? All this stuff is digital these days.”

“I prefer physical books.” Blanche held the door open so that Noire could follow them in. They automatically lowered their voice as they moved further into the library. “I also believe that it’s important to support local libraries as they provide important resources and services. Part of that support is checking out books.”

Noire was rolling their eyes at Blanche again, but Blanche turned their back and refused to look. They went to the holds shelf and found the books held under their name. As they tucked the books under their arm, they caught Noire bending and squinting to make out the title.

“Oh, it’s that trashy sci-fi series you like,” Noire said, losing interest as they straightened.

Offended, Blanche retorted, “I don’t make fun of you about your cheesy housewife dramas.”

Noire leveled them with a look. “Yeah, you do.”

Well, maybe they did, but Blanche wasn’t about to admit it. Instead they let Noire haul them out to dinner like they hadn’t allowed the other Team Leaders, and made polite conversation with Noire’s partner, Amelie.

Unlike Blanche, Noire cared about soulmates. And Amelie was theirs. The two of them met in the ranks of Team Rocket and now wrought havoc as a criminal power couple.

Blanche supposed that was a soulmate thing.

It was late by the time Blanche managed to squirm away and go home. Even so, they stayed up an extra hour (or two…) in order to start their book. They did not wait a week for it to not read it right away.

Blanche’s head buzzed with exhaustion when they hauled their butt to work the next morning. While they were not required to work weekends, Mystic Laboratories never truly closed. There was someone working on a project or writing a report or analyzing data at all hours on all days. Therefore, Blanche had decided to make it a priority to be at the labs for at least part of every day in case there was anything that needed their personal and immediate attention.

It was a good thing they did. Just before lunch, which Blanche wasn’t intending to take anyway, one of the techs knocked on the door to Blanche’s office and burst in without waiting for a response. “Leader Blanche!” she blurted out before Blanche could tell her not to do that in the future. “We just heard that the shipment of Snom eggs from Instinct is being delivered now instead of Monday.”

“What?” Blanche’s hands froze on their keyboard. They checked their schedule. Damn it. That shipment wasn’t scheduled to arrive until Monday at 2 p.m. “Why now?”

“Leader Spark says that the eggs are about to hatch. As our project requires newly-hatched Snom, waiting two days to send them to us could skew our results. Leader Spark is delivering them personally and should be here in about ten minutes.” The woman fidgeted as she talked. Her anxiety was unnecessary. Blanche wasn’t going to scold her because something urgent cropped up. That was the nature of this profession, sometimes.

Blanche stood and grabbed their jacket off the back of their desk chair. “Understood. I’ll go meet him and get the Snom settled in.” There was no choice. Although there was always someone here, it was a skeleton crew on weekends. Even Team Mystic liked their weekends.

By the time Blanche arrived, Spark and another trainer in Team Instinct yellow were unloading incubators of eggs from the back of a panel van. Spark spotted Blanche and grinned. It was a sunny expression that suited his golden blond hair and sky blue eyes. Blanche couldn’t return it, though. Such expressions weren’t in their nature.

“Heya, Blanche! Sorry for the change in schedule. But the babies hatch when they’re gonna hatch, and there’s nothing humans can do about it.” Spark passed the last incubator to his assistant and jumped down.

The greeting was informal for Blanche’s tastes, but they let it go. Team relations were important, and Spark had held the position of Team Leader longer than Blanche had. It would be presumptuous to scold him after only a week at the post. “That’s fine. Thank you for bringing them so promptly,” Blanche said instead. They bent to inspect one of the eggs through the clear glass of the incubator. A visual exam revealed nothing, but Blanche was not the expert in pokemon breeding. They would have to take Spark’s word for it that they would hatch soon.

“When do you believe that they will hatch?” Blanche assumed that it must be today or he wouldn’t have brought them in such a hurry.

“Oh, within the next half hour, for sure.” Spark’s easy reply filled Blanche with horror. They weren’t set up for the hatchling Snom yet.

“Annie!” Blanche called. She was never far. Sure enough, her head popped around the corner.

“Yes, Chief?”

“We need the terrariums set up for twelve hatchling Snom. Time is of the essence.”

“Got it!” She gave a salute and vanished.

The tech fetched a cart and they loaded the incubators onto it. Spark hung around, and even though he told his assistant to head out, the young man in yellow stayed as well. When Blanche asked, Spark said that he wanted to make sure the eggs were settled in and hatched safely. Blanche didn’t like the sensation of being hovered over but could not fault him for wanting to see a task through to completion.

The cooing, however, baffled them.

“There we go, baby, let’s get you all settled in,” Spark crooned to the eggs as he got the incubators settled in the room designated for them. “There, see, all nice and warm. What good babies.”

Blanche was embarrassed just listening to it, but they continued to organize the terrariums for the Snom when they hatched and coordinated contacting the Mystic scientists in charge of the Snom project and telling them they needed to come in. It was easier to pretend they couldn’t hear when they had so much to do.

But it was amazing to watch a baby pokemon come into the world. Two of the researchers arrived just in time to record the data, so Blanche set their tablet down and leaned back to witness the miracle now that they were not required to be the one to document it.

The shells cracked and Snom crawled out one by one. Without disturbing the newborn pokemon, Spark reached in to hit the release on the incubators. The glass slid open and it wasn’t long before the hatchlings crept out of their incubators to explore.

The terrarium was set up as a natural Snom habitat with non-intrusive dividers so that each pair of Snom was kept separate from the others for control purposes. But there were leaves for them to chew on and branches to climb.

Spark lifted out the incubators as the Snom vacated them and set them on the floor. “Go, can you go load these back up in the truck?” he asked his assistant. If not for Spark’s cheeky grin, Blanche may have missed the pun. But from the look of tired exasperation on Go’s face, this type of joke was not uncommon.

“Got it. You want me to wait for you?”

“Nah, I can find my own way back.”

Once Go and his cart of incubators had gone, Spark turned to Blanche with the grin that they were starting to become familiar with. “Have you had lunch yet?”

Blanche wasn’t expecting that question and answered honestly on reflex. “No.”

“Great! It looks like your people have things under control here.” Spark gestured at the techs bustling around the terrariums. “How about we go grab a bite to eat? My treat.”

Blanche wanted to refuse. They had so much to do! But Spark had done them a favour by personally arranging to bring the Snom to Team Mystic two days ahead of schedule. An hour or so of team bonding wasn’t such a bad trade off. “Did you have a place in mind?”

Spark’s grin broadened. “Yeah! You good with spicy food? There’s this Unovan place me and Candy go to all the time. It’s so good.”

“Spicy food is fine.”

There was just enough time for Blanche to shove their tablet into Annie’s arms and inform her that they were taking their lunch break before Spark slung his arm around Blanche’s neck and steered them out the door. When they were on the first floor crossing the reception area through the door, the whispers started.

“Look. It’s the Rocket brat.”

“What? How can a former Team Rocket member be allowed into the Go Program?”

“They need to up their background checks for this place. They’re letting all kinds of scum in.”

Blanche flinched. Their shoulders stiffened, and their hands formed fists at their sides. Ah, so it had gotten out already. Blanche forced themself to take a deep breath. Well, it didn’t matter. Let them talk. Blanche had dealt with stares and whispers often since leaving the care of Rocket Executive Sabrina.

Spark stopped dead in the middle of the reception area with his arm still looped around Blanche’s shoulders. In an instant his grin had vanished to be replaced with a stone-eyed stare. Blanche flinched again, intimidated despite themself.

“You wanna come over here and say that shit?” Spark said, voice low and dangerous.

The reception area went dead quiet. Nobody moved.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. C’mon, Blanche.”

Despite their resolve that it didn’t matter, Blanche’s hands were shaking when they made it onto the sidewalk. “I must apologize,” they said, pulling away from Spark’s arm but sticking close to him on the sidewalk. He sent them a puzzled look, but Blanche continued staring straight ahead. “It’s true that I was raised by Team Rocket, but I left the organization when I was a teenager. I-”

“Blanche.” Spark stopped. Blanche continued for a few steps before they stopped and turned to look at him questioningly. Spark’s face was uncharacteristically serious. “They were talking about *me.*”

“What?”

Spark shrugged like it was no big deal. Maybe to him it wasn’t. “My parents died in a raid Team Rocket was involved in. There’ve been rumours since I was a kid that they were part of Team Rocket. I was raised by my Uncle Surge, who is a member of Team Rocket. People say all kinds of shit about it.”

“Oh.” He was an orphan, like them, who had been taken in by Team Rocket. In his case it had been an actual family member, but Blanche supposed it amounted to the same thing.

Spark was still standing in the middle of the sidewalk. “So…?”

“So?”

“We still gonna have lunch?”

“Yes? I am waiting for you,” Blanche said, confused. “I don’t know where the restaurant is.”

Spark looked startled for a moment. Then his grin reappeared, slowly and full of relief. “Okay. Follow me.”

The restaurant was a cozy family-owned affair. The staff greeted Spark by name and asked who his ‘new friend’ was as they led them to a table. Blanche let Spark handle the social pleasantries and browsed the menu. As Spark had warned, most of the available fare was spicy. But Blanche could handle spicy.

“What do you recommend?” Blanche asked once the server left them.

“Oh, the curry for sure. It’s amazing.” Spark leaned over to point to the appropriate section of the menu. “They’ve got a few options depending on what flavours you like and your tolerance for spice.”

“All right.” Blanche decided to try the green curry and set their menu aside. Spark was a regular at this restaurant and already knew what he wanted. While their orders were sent to the kitchen and the server brought them tea, Blanche and Spark made small talk.

“You’re not from Opal, right? Have you settled into your place?” Spark asked.

“Yes. I’m from- well.” Blanche stopped, sighed, and rephrased. “Originally I’m from Orre, but I don’t remember it very well. I grew up in Kanto. Opal seems quite different, but I like it so far.”

“Hey, I grew up in Kanto too!” Spark leaned forward in excitement. “Where abouts are you from?”

“Saffron City.”

“Ahhh. I’m from Vermilion City. Man, we grew up so close together. Small world, huh?”

“Indeed.” Blanche sipped their tea.

“Did your wife come with you?”

Blanche choked, slapping a hand over their mouth to keep from spewing tea everywhere. “My what?”

Spark looked confused. “Your wife? The short, busty redhead? I’m sure I’ve seen you two together before.”

Ohhhh. “That’s Amelie,” Blanche said, grabbing a napkin to clean up their mess. “She’s not my wife. She’s the soulmate of my twin, Noire.”

“Oh!” Spark’s eyes went wide. “There’s two of you?”

“No. There is one of me, and one of Noire.” Blanche didn’t quite keep the impatience out of their voice. They glared when Spark laughed. The server looked between them curiously when she set down their steaming plates of food, but she seemed to know better than to ask.

“Sorry. You get that a lot, huh?”

“Yes,” said Blanche with emphasis.

“Sorry.” There was a brief silence. Blanche wondered if they had offended Spark, but sampled their curry while they waited for him to speak. It was delicious.

“What about you?” Spark asked. Seeing from Blanche’s questioning look that they didn’t know what he meant, he elaborated. “Do you have a soulmate?”

This conversation again. Soulmates seemed to be all anyone ever wanted to talk about. “I have a mark. I have not met the person who bears the same one.” They hoped that would be enough to shut down the conversation, but it was not.

“I haven’t met mine either,” Spark said, and took a generous bite of his own curry. His face flushed from the heat, but he didn’t seem to mind the spice. Then his eyes lit and he leaned across the table again. “Hey! Can I see your mark?”

“No.” Blanche was startled into instant and complete refusal. It wasn’t even as though they viewed their mark as private like some did - after all, they hadn’t minded Annie seeing it. But people usually saw it by chance rather than asking boldly like this.

“Why?” Spark’s head tilted like a bird. “Is it somewhere private?”

“No.” Blanche didn’t want him assuming it was on their butt or something either. “It’s on my leg.”

“Really? Mine too!” Spark seemed pleased. “Which leg?”

“…My left.”

“Okay, now you’ve gotta show me,” Spark said.

Blanche almost asked why, but then realized. His mark must be on his left leg too. Oh no. This was awkward. But they were being ridiculous. There were only so many places for a mark to appear - with the billions of people in the world, there had to be thousands upon thousands whose soulmark was on their left leg. There was no need to jump to conclusions. “I-”

“Wait, scratch that. If you’re not comfortable, I can just show you mine. You can tell me if it matches, ‘kay?”

Blanche nodded. Their throat was too tight to speak.

Spark braced his left ankle on his right knee and began to roll up his pant leg. It took an agonizing amount of time because Spark liked his pants tight. In the meantime, Blanche waffled between wanting to know and wanting to get up and run. It couldn’t be Spark. It would be too much of a coincidence.

But the bottom of the design became visible on Spark’s calf as he continued to work his tight leather pant leg up, swearing under his breath. Blanche recognized the bottom point of the star, the same one that had appeared on their own leg when they were fifteen. They had gone off to college, early, because they’d been home schooled by tutors Sabrina hired, and it was their first night in the dorm. Their first night away from Noire.

The mark hadn’t been there when they left home, but it was there when they got out of the shower to get ready for bed that night. Blanche saw it and stared in disbelief before they collapsed on the floor sobbing. No. They couldn’t have a soulmate. They weren’t even sure if they were human. They didn’t remember enough to know if they weren’t.

It had shocked them to be so devastated by the mark. Noire’s soulmark had appeared on their bicep three years earlier and it hadn’t been horrible. True, Blanche had been a little jealous that someone else was going to be the closest person to Noire, but that was part of growing up.

The feelings had dulled over the years, but had never disappeared.

The mark on Spark’s calf was fully visible now. There was no mistake.

“It matches,” Blanche said when Spark looked at them. They hoped their anguish didn’t show in their face or voice.

Something must show, because rather than beaming or grabbing them, Spark laid a gentle hand over theirs. “Want a ride home? We don’t gotta talk about it now if you don’t want to.”

“Thank you.”

It was testament to Blanche’s state of mind that Spark managed to get away with paying the whole bill. Although it was an awkward ride home in Spark’s jeep, Blanche wasn’t sure they could control their motorcycle in their emotional state.

When they arrived, Spark offered to walk them up. Blanche declined. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine.” They hesitated before closing the Jeep door. Spark seemed like a good man. They didn’t want to leave him hurt, as he must be knowing that Blanche was not thrilled. “Thank you again, Spark. And I’m sorry. I’m not upset that it’s you, it’s just…”

Spark smiled at them. “Hey, it’s okay.” He couldn’t pat their hand while sitting in the driver’s seat with them standing on the sidewalk, but his fingers twitched like he wanted to. “These things are personal, so it’s emotionally-charged for a lot of people. Don’t worry about me, ‘kay? We’ll talk another time.”

“All right.” Blanche let the door fall closed. Spark didn’t drive away until Blanche had unlocked the front door to the condo building and closed it behind them. He was a good guy, Blanche thought again.

Blanche just wasn’t sure if they were a good enough person to deserve him.

#Pokemon Go #Ashiversary #chiiwifruit #submission #fanfiction #Blanche #Spark #Candela #Team Mystic #Team Instinct #Team Valor #If We're Honest

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sunflowereviews · 4 years ago

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WARNING: KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN! (Things to know before getting into KHR!) (A pinned post)

I’ve suddenly remembered why I made this blog in the first place (◣∀◢)ψ

(TL;DR at the end)

TO WARN YOU ALL ABOUT KATEKYO HITMAN REBORN.

If you’re looking to get into it, I want to tell you a few things.

It was originally meant to be a gag manga, but its popularity was in decline so they turned it into a shounen manga.

I’m saying this because if you’ve searched up the main character, Tsunayoshi Sawada, you’ve seen this

But when you actually got into the series, you saw this:

That’s the beginning, the original gag part of the manga where Tsuna is incredibly annoying and made everyone want to throw bricks at him.

I believe that in the anime, the gag goes on for about twenty episodes. In the manga, it goes on for sixty-two chapters.

I’m saying this because the original gag part is really annoying, boring, and slow. It’s not funny and it was a pain for me to go through when I started reading it. Now that you know when the serious shounen stuff starts, you can skip the original gag and get straight to the good stuff.

The only issue you’ll have with skipping it is you won’t know anything about the characters and their abilities. I don’t know anyone who skipped it so I can’t say if you’ll be able to figure it out quickly or if it’ll take some time.

IF you do skip it, DO NOT, under ANY circumstances, look at ANYTHING on the Katekyo Hitman Reborn wiki pages. You WILL get spoiled. Instead, I’ll give you a summary of each character from the wiki pages.

TSUNAYOSHI SAWADA - The main character

Tsuna is called “No Good Tsuna” by his classmates because of his poor grades, bad luck, wimpy attitude, and lack of athleticism. He easily admits these things about himself, lacking self-confidence and always doubting himself and quitting easily.

Tsuna is also the tenth successor to the Vongola, a powerful and influential family in the mafia. His ability is Dying Will Mode and can only be activated by the Dying Will Bullet. He is trained to become the tenth boss by the best hitman in the Vongola family, Reborn.

Dying Will Mode: His body’s limiters are removed and he becomes stronger. This happens because when he is shot by the Dying Will Bullet, he is put in a life-or-death situation and he must fulfill his dying will.

Tsunayoshi Sawada attends Namimori Middle School.

REBORN - Main

Reborn is the best hitman in the mafia. He helps Tsuna train to become the tenth boss of the Vongola. He is confident and unpredictable. He enjoys teasing his students and pulling pranks on them. Readers will find that he also enjoys cosplaying as he is often seen with different outfits.

HAYATO GOKUDERA - Main

Hayato is the right-hand man of Tsuna and he takes his role very seriously. He portrays himself as a delinquent but contrary to his image, he actually does very well in school. He has a short temper and is very irritable towards everyone except Reborn and Tsuna.

He uses dynamites and traps as his weapons and fights in enclosed spaces and at mid-range. He is also a very intelligent fighter.

Hayato Gokudera attends Namimori Middle School.

TAKESHI YAMAMOTO - Main

Usually called “Yamamoto,” he is friendly and naive, thinking that being part of the Vongola is simply a game that they are playing for fun. He is willing to make sacrifices for things that are important to him. He loves baseball and is just about as dumb as Tsuna.

Reborn gives him a bat that is actually a sword as a weapon.

Takeshi Yamamoto attends Namimori Middle School.

LAMBO - Main

Lambo is a five-year-old hitman who came to Japan to kill Reborn. He is a whiny and spoiled brat who has to be babysat by Tsuna’s friends and family. He is confident in himself and his abilities but cries over little things.

Whenever he is in trouble, he will use the 10-Year Bazooka, which is a bazooka that brings the version of himself from ten years in the future to the present and the five year old Lambo will disappear for five minutes. After five minutes, the future Lambo will return to the future and the five year old Lambo will return to the present.

KYOUYA HIBARI - Main

Kyouya Hibari is the leader of the Namimori Middle Disciplinary Committee, which is actually a group of delinquents. Kyouya enforces discipline in the school with his own methods, using his authority to assault people who get on his nerves.

Kyouya is cold and scary, having no care for the well-being of others. He will do whatever it takes to get what he wants. He hates crowds and prefers to be alone, often hanging out alone at the school roof.

He has an extreme loyalty to his school, punishing anyone who breaks the rules, even if they don’t attend Namimori. He has the school’s anthem set as his ringtone.

He wields tonfas as his weapons. He has full confidence in his fighting ability and dives straight into fights without thinking. He is the strongest at Namimori.

Kyouya Hibari attends Namimori Middle School.

RYOUHEI SASAGAWA - Main

Ryouhei loves boxing and lives life to the extreme. He is the captain of the boxing club and has a great passion for it. Ryouhei has a tendency to rush into fights without doing a fully analysis due to his enthusiasm. He has a short memory so he often forgets important details. He is always looking to fight new opponents and learn to improve himself.

He is loyal to his friends, as he will protect his friends without thinking twice about the danger he is putting himself in. He has a soft spot for women and children.

Ryouhei utilizes boxing to fight.

Ryouhei Sasagawa attends Namimori Middle School.

FUUTA DE LA STELLA - Supporting

Fuuta has the ability to determine rankings of people in any kind of category. He has a wide range of knowledge which makes him invaluable to the mafia. He becomes friends with Tsuna.

DINO CAVALLONE - Supporting

Dino is the leader of the Cavallone family which are allied with the Vongola. He has great leadership and combat skills.

Reborn trained him so he could become the boss of the Cavallone. Dino is devoted to his family (mafia family) but it backfires as he can no longer fight without the members of the family watching him.

He uses a bullwhip and his pet turtle, Enzio as his weapons.

DOCTOR SHAMAL - Supporting

Doctor Shamal is a skilled doctor. He is a womanizer and hits on every woman he sees. Due to his obsession with women, he refuses to treat men with injuries and will only treat women. Occasionally, he treats men out of sympathy. He has 666 disease but none of them have killed him because the diseases negate each other.

He is called “Trident Shamal” because he is an incredibly skilled assassin. He uses Trident Mosquitoes as his weapon. He can inflict illnesses or cancel illnesses with the mosquitoes.

BIANCHI - Supporting

Bianchi is a freelance assassin from Italy and the older half-sister of Hayato Gokudera. She is passionate when it comes to love, to the point where she can become violent. Aside from that, she is generally a kind person.

Her ability is Poison Cooking. Anything that she cooks or touches will be poisoned and uses this to incapacitate her opponents. When she snaps her fingers, the poisoned food will explode. Tsuna tried to avoid eating her food because he is the only one who knows it is poisoned.

Bianchi developed this ability when she was a teen. She would cook food for Hayato but the food was so bad that it would give him horrible stomach pains or make him vomit. Eventually, it became Poison Cooking. Hayato can no longer look at Bianchi without having severe stomach pain, vomiting, or passing out because when he looks at her, he remembers to horrible food that she forced him to eat.

KYOKO SASAGAWA - Supporting

Kyoko is the younger sister of Ryouhei Sasagawa and the love interest of Tsuna. She is care free and doesn’t question the odd things that occur around her as she is also somewhat of an air-head. She is a kind and caring girl and rarely gets angry.

Like Yamamoto, she thinks that being part of the Vongola is a game that they are playing.

Kyoko attends Namimori Middle School.

HARU MIURA - Supporting

Haru is an upbeat, enthusiastic, and care free girl. Although she has a crush of Tsuna, she is not the love interest. Unlike Kyoko and Yamamoto, she knows that the Vongola are real and aims to become the wife of the future boss, Tsuna.

I-PIN - Supporting

I-Pin is an assassin from Hong Kong who came to Japan to assassinate someone. She is energetic and friendly with everyone but will often get into fights with Lambo. She is also infatuated with Kyoya Hibari because he resembles her master.

Gyoza-Kempo and Pinzu-Timed Super Explosion are her abilties. Gyoza-Kempo is an attack that combines her martial arts with the strong scent of garlic from gyoza dymplings. This attack contains the essence of five-million gyoza which is enough to kill a human.

Pinzu-Timed Super Explosion is an ability where, when activated, she becomes a human bomb. A count down begins and the process of the count down can be seen on her forehead.

Credit to MyAnimeList.net and the KHR fandom wiki for the pictures and information.

TLDR: If you’re watching the anime, skip the first twenty episodes if you don’t like bad gag comedy. If you’re reading the manga, skip the first sixty-two chapters. If you want to educate yourself about the characters, you can read the character summaries I’ve made above.

You guys have no idea how much time I spent on this. At one point, I accidentally deleted everything and had to start again D:

Thanks for reading!!!

-Taiwan

#khr #katekyo hitman reborn #katekyo home tutor #tsunayoshisawada #sawada tsunayoshi #khr tsuna #anime #manga

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ruminativerabbi · 4 years ago

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Election Day 2020

Is it possible that Election Day is finally upon us? Some other time, I’d like to write about the craziness of having these election seasons that go on endlessly—you can expect the 2024 campaign to begin in all but name about a quarter-hour after the new or not-new president is inaugurated in January—and particularly in light of the relative sanity that prevails in other countries, where political campaigns last mostly for several weeks or months. (The minimum length of an election campaign in Canada is thirty-six days, for example, but the longest on record was only eleven weeks. The candidates give a few speeches, the party publishes its platform, there are some interviews and a debate or two, then the polls open and the nation votes. Only here, where the date of the next presidential election has nothing to do with the fate of the current government, is it considered normal for people to spend two or three years campaigning for office.) Today, however, I’d like to use this space to write instead about the concept of participation in an election itself.

While perusing the corners of the blogosphere that are my regular haunts, I’ve occasionally noted the opinion put forward that the American system of government is an outgrowth of the specific kind of democracy invented (and named) by the ancient Greeks and that, therefore, it can only be supported by Jews and Christians willing to set aside what Scripture teaches us about the way people should consent to be governed to embrace a system unrelated to their own spiritual heritage. Generally written by people who know their Bible but who are wholly ignorant of rabbinic tradition, these essays are mostly the work of people who find the distinction between ancient Israelite religion and modern Judaism a triviality to be skipped past rather than a detail of profound importance. How this could or should work for Christians, I’ll leave for others more qualified than myself to puzzle out. But for Jews, the question itself of whether people guided by Jewish tradition should enthusiastically embrace or merely stoically accept the concept of representative democracy is the question I’ve been pondering in these last days leading up to the election.

It surely is so that the Bible does not envisage the ancient Israelites participating in anything like a Jeffersonian democracy. Indeed, biblical tradition imagines an ideal state governed by a king who acts solely in accordance with the law of the Torah and actually goes so far as to legislate that the king may only be seated on the royal throne when he is actually holding his personal scroll of the Law in his arms. How practical that was, or if the kings of Israel truly obeyed that injunction, who can say? But it is a stunning image nonetheless, something along the lines of our nation requiring by law that the President actually hold a copy of the Constitution in his hands whenever meeting with visitors in the Oval Office or making a public address. (That might actually not be such a bad idea, now that I think of it.) Interestingly, the king isn’t expected to be a Torah scholar who can personally puzzle out obscure point of law: in cases where Scripture does not directly address some specific issue with which the king needs to deal, a large squadron of court prophets is also imagined to be in place specifically to transmit the word of God to the sovereign on an issue-by-issue basis. So the model of which those authors I referenced above are so enamored basically features God ruling the nation through the agency of a king who gets his governing instructions from God one way or the other: either directly from his own informed contemplation of Scripture or indirectly from the squadron of house seers installed in the palace for that precise purpose.

But that ideal kingdom is not where any of us lives today. Yes, it is certainly so that Jews who say their prayers in the traditional mode give voice daily to the hope that the messianic era will feature just such a king of the House of David empowered to rule over the Land of Israel in the mode described just above. But in our pre-redeemed world, the footfalls of the messiah have yet to heard even in the distance. For better or worse, we are—for the moment, at least—on our own.

I suppose it could be possible to argue that the kind of democracy that has evolved as the basis for government in these United States is thus merely an attractive stop-gap measure that traditionalists should support until the aforementioned footfalls become audible in the distance. There is, however, a rabbinic idea that actually corresponds precisely to the notion of participating in an election to choose a national leader. And that suggests to me a way to frame voting in a national election as a personal decision fully in sync with tradition.

In Jewish law, the concept of agency guarantees individuals the right to appoint agents to act on their behalf. When put baldly like that, it sounds almost banal. But behind that apparent banality is the legal force that enables the individual to act profoundly in ways that would otherwise be either impossible or, at the very least, impractical. For its part, the Talmud speaks about the concept of agency in absolute terms, going so far as to say that “the agent of an individual is legally empowered to act as though he or she were the individual him or herself.” There are exceptions, of course. For one, the Talmud makes clear that “the concept of agency is inoperative when the agent has been appointed specifically to commit a sin.” In other words, you can’t escape the consequence of wrongdoing by appointing an agent to commit the deed for you. So you can avoid the need to travel to a different locale by appointing an agent to marry your future spouse on your behalf or to act “as yourself” in divorce (or any) court, but you can’t escape the consequences of murdering someone by hiring a hitperson to pull the trigger. Nor was this “just” a regular feature of classical law in ancient times: it appears, at least in the broad way it was construed by the ancient sages, specifically to be a feature specifically of Jewish law. (The second exception, however, regards the commandments themselves: it is not deemed legally possible to hire an agent to fulfill obligations to God. You cannot, therefore, appoint someone to say the Shema for you or to put t’fillin on during morning prayers as though that person were you. Nor can you appoint an agent to eat matzah for you at the Pesach seder or to dine in a sukkah or to hear the shofar blasts during Rosh Hashanah.)

That set of ideas creates an interesting framework for considering the role of the individual in a republican democracy, because it leads directly to thinking of elections as opportunities for individuals to appoint as their agents the individuals they wish to see lead the nation forward. That we do this collectively—i.e., as a kind of contest in which the winner becomes the agent of us all—is just a function of the fact that no nation could function if each individual were to appoint his or her own congressperson or choose personally to serve him or herself. For practical reasons, then, we do this as a group…but the basic principle that underlies the effort is still that, by voting, we are appointing individuals as our agents to represent us in the Congress and to serve as President. We send them not to commit sins that we don’t want to sully our own hands by undertaking (that wouldn’t be allowed) or fulfill our own spiritual obligations to God, but specifically to act on our behalf to ensure the security of the nation, to guarantee justice for all its citizens, to create a safety net into which people unable to care adequately for themselves may fall, to oversee the education of our children, to care for our veterans, to guide our nation to its rightful place of leadership in the forum of nations, to watch over the planet and prevent humanity from irrevocably soiling its collective nest, and to guide our nation into solid, mutually beneficial alliances with other countries. By casting my vote on Tuesday (and, yes, I am planning to vote the old-fashioned way: in person and on Election Day), I understand myself to be participating in a national effort to appoint the individuals who will lead the nation forward.

Because I think of our representatives in Congress and as the President as agents appointed by myself (and several hundred million others) to act on our behalf in the world, I feel a concomitant freedom to inform those people regularly how I wish them to act and what I wish for them to attempt to accomplish.

It sounds a bit passé these days to refer to members of the Congress or to the President and Vice President as servants of the people, but the way the word “servant” is used in that expression comes close to what I hear in the Hebrew shaliach, the standard word for “agent.” So, to answer those who feel that participation in representative democracy is by definition an act undertaken outside the concept of tradition, my answer is that there really couldn’t be a more traditional way to think about governance than by imagining the citizenry banding together to appoint an agent to do their bidding and lead them forward.

#Election Day #democracy #shaliach #agency

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pastelbatfandoms · 4 years ago

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Tarot Spreads for My OC Michelle,Jughead and FP. Will contain spoilers for My Mughead Fanfic! My OC’s Wiki page!

First Date Spread (Michelle and Jughead) #######3######### 4######2, (5 crosses)#6 #######1#########

1-What you want to happen on the date- 2 of pentacles, Clarifier Card Page of wands (For Jughead to pay for the date lol seems like her family is going through some financial difficulties,but isn't Jughead's? To be beneficial to each other,have creative,enthusiastic conversation,go with the flow for now and enjoy it) 2-what will happen on the date- Page of cups (Young love,Romance,maybe emotional and idealistic at this stage,definitely will be a romantic gesture by Jughead,literally a first date.) 3-The date itself- knight of pentacles R (Somewhere cheap,lack of finances again,deep conversations about self worth and were they want to go in life) 4-You in the environment of the date- king of wands ( Goal oriented,a bit materialistic but really just wants to get out of poverty or what she see's as,Independent,adventurous,spontaneous,direct and charismatic.) 5-Best you can hope for- king of pentacles (Success! As long as there's no unnecessary risks and they are patient. As friends they already have a Stable Foundation. ) 6-The outcome- king of swords ( Can lead with the heart not the head at times,Honest,intellectual communication,Michelle will have to deal with Jughead's more logical way of thinking and aversion to PDA,save for hand holding. As she herself is independant I think his own need for privacy and his quiet nature will be accepted. They can balance each other out.)

Further First Date spread (using both Haunted House Deck and Throne of Glass) 1--2 5--3 -6-4 -7-- -8--

1. Their impression of you.- 8 of pentacles (Jughead) (Goal oriented,Successful,master of his trade (Writing),can go far if he shares his work to the public.strong and caring) 2. Your impression of them.- 4 of wands (Michelle) (Stable,Secure,"Aesthetically pleasing",protective,Wife material.) 3. What You will learn about them (on the date, in general, what they want in a relationship, what they want in a partner, or what they want from you).- Ace of wands R, Clarifier cards 5 of swords ,Knight of swords and Ace of swords . (Lacks direction knows what he wants to do but not how to attain it,is frustrated and uninspired or might be frustrated and conflicted over his Sexuality. Wants to take his power back,maybe through the written word,might have to do with Reggie bullying him. He is intelligent,honest,Assertive,also might indicate his need to follow the Jason Blossom case he has all the information and wants to act quickly,he knows the truth and knows he has support. He's clear headed,see's both sides and is focused. Michelle and him think the same way.) 4. What you like about them.- 7 of pentacles (How hard working and ambitious yet nurturing he is.) 5. Will they like you?- The Devil (Honeymoon phase so yes. loves that she accepts him for who he is,but his attraction or love may turn into possessiveness if not careful.) 6. Will you be friends, enemies, or continue to see each other? King of wands (As long as they can live independently and not be clingy,and seeing as that's her personality I don't see an issue,I see a relationship,it may not be traditionally romantic or sexaul but it works for them,or at least Jughead,might be some issues sexaully for Michelle later on.) 7. Advice (like what to expect or just general advice for the first date to get a second date etc.)- Knight of wands R (Don't be rushing to the second date or into a relationship,let it come naturally,as their friendship did,do not be impulsive or irresponsible.) 8. Outcome of the whole situation (like if it'll be a positive or negative experience, learning experience, or it's all meant to be etc.)- 6 of swords (Comfort,guidance,support,maybe take a trip together. Michelle will need to help Jughead with his Darkness and Jughead will need to help Michelle not be so Materialistic)

Separation / Reunion spread 1 2 _ _ 3 4 _ 5 _ _ 6 _ _ 7 _ _ 8 _ _ _ 9x10 _ _ (ten crosses 9) 13 14__11 12 ____ 15 ____

1-2: (read together) How he thought of them (during the separation)- Jughead // 4 of pentacles & queen of wands. (at her worst-materialistic,selfish,clingy,kept a secret from him. At her best- Strong,Dynamic,powerful,Independant,fearless,vibrant,protective,fun and creative. (Art,Poetry) Where they differ is Jughead is more of an introvert and pessimist whereas Michelle is more extroverted & optimistic who enjoys the limelight like being a River Vixen. Also take this as Jug being lonely and missing her. 3-4: (read together) How she thought of you- Michelle // The Moon and Knight of pentacles R (At his worst- Moody,negative,jumps to conclusions,detached,financially insecure (there she goes with the material again) At his best- A Rebel,doesn't follow family tradition (yet),imaginative. But also take this as Michelle being depressed and in that mind set. ) 5: What he expects (from the reunion)- Knight of wands R ( to be more reckless,Fiery,he's not really thinking but acting on impulse,he misses her and dislikes change so he's going to do something about it,simple as that. ) 6: What they expect- 2 of swords R (Guarded at first but gives in and lets go of any hostility they had before,wishes they could run away together,forgiveness and understanding.) 7: What Jughead fears- 5 of cups (Loss,regret,guilt,change for the worse,the past repeating itself) 8: What Michelle fears- 7 of cups (being neglected,choices,wishful thinking,being honest with herself) 9/10: Crossroads: The reunion itself. the 10 crosses the 9.- The Star R & Justice (She will need to make amends with what she has done in the past (unknowingly or not) Jughead will be compassionate and understanding but only up to a point,he see's both sides of view once he is clear headed and Michelle has not placed all the blame on him.) 11-12: (read together) What you bring away.- 8 of wands & 3 of swords (They have come to a good place and conclusion both relationship wise and personally. But another change will warrant their attention and come in fast and swift,Jughead with his Fire sign in Aries will be swept up into the midst of it. (I'm thinking The Serpents & Ghoulies) Jughead is enthusiastic and feels energized by it,but also heartbreak and anger over possibly losing Michelle over it and his friends feeling betrayed. They will have to accept his new Serpent lifestyle or move on. ) (may also indicate love triangle) 13-14 (read together) What they bring away.- 5 of wands R and The Hanged man R (Michelle was resistant to the change in lifestyle at first but it seemed for the better and only brought them closer,they have battled for each other quite literally,the all out war is now a truce and they have come to a compromise as long as they are open to change. If the opposite is true within their relationship,outside of The Serpents,they could find themselves at an impasse,which they could get over or selfishly not,if they hide things from one another,do not listen to one another or the outside influences then they will be stuck.) 15: The future of the relationship.- The Hermit (Clarifying cards) The Emperor,4 of swords,The Empress and 9 of wands. (A time of self reflection and looking inward,a time to be alone with their thoughts WITHOUT outside influence or responsibilities. The Emperor signifies Jughead as The Serpent King and after much reflection he has matured to take his role seriously,may also represent his Dad FP Jones as the father figure and original Serpent king. Setting boundaries,thinking big,reaching his goals,claiming territory (quite literally in this case) does not apologize for who is,may come to a head in their relationship if in an argument he thinks he did nothing wrong,All that leadership and territory war may be too much for Jughead at some point and he will need to retreat to heal and recuperate for peace and quiet. As The Empress (Serpent Queen) Michelle will be a solid and dependable presence in their lives going forward,she will also be very gentle in her approach and is now comfortable in her skin,the love still has it's fragile moments though and although it maybe marriage material,certain conflicts may arise or resurface and Michelle has become weary of fighting,as a Serpent she will fight every battle but should the same be expected of a relationship? Something she has hidden may show it's self or Michelle may come to a realization she never knew.)

Chance Encounter (FP and Michelle) ....1....2 ........3 ........4 .....5....6 ........7

1-3 are about the encounter. 4-7 are about any future encounters and/or what the querent can get out of the situation. 1--What Michelle contributed to the encounter- The hanged man R (Acting Impulsively,wanting out of her rut,wanting to let go) 2--What FP contributed to the encounter- King of wands (Independence,similar personality traits,Spontaneity.) 3--The encounter itself; what happened, why was it important for Michelle? 2 of swords Decision Card 1 Knight of pentacles//pro and con cards= Ace of wands,Wheel of fortune R,9 of swords R,5 of pentacles R. Decision card 2 Seven of swords R// pros and cons=4 of cups R,Knight of cups R,King of pentacles R,Ace of pentacles. ( I mean we know what happened... And she did it out of impulse now she has to deal with the consequence and decide between two relationships (no She's NOT going to date a Father AND his son!) and even though she's in denial about it being FP,she must face her fears and make her choice. ) Path #1. Funny because I see FP as a Capricorn (Earth sign) with some Leo & Scorpio and Jughead as an Aries (With a bit of Scorpio/Taurus influence) Michelle is an Air sign but I don't think the Knight of Pentacles is about her as previously thought,but about Jughead wanting to protect and be there for his family (still loves his mother despite everything,fierce and protective over his Father,caring for his younger sister) He is becoming more Extroverted and action oriented,similar to Michelle. But in their relationship he still prefers to not be as spontaneous,which Michelle may get bored with. Though if not Jughead does promise her stability,love and loyalty,he is also fiercely protective of what is his on the verge of possessive. Which along with the lack of loyalty (romantically) on her side,might prove to be a challenge. Pro's-Strength,passion,reaching their goals,will get there career wise,love loyalty,protective Con's- something missing,Possessiveness,delays,their careers may have taken off (as adults) but is not the outcome they were looking for,their relationship may be at a standstill because of this or they never took off in the first place. It could also be here that Jughead finds out about Michelle and FP leading to depression,hopelessness,guilt and shame (especially intensified for Michelle as a Libra) and a falling out with Jughead. Pro's- I survived. May lead to a reconciliation down the road,which may be letting FP down or the opposite. Her estrangement from family and friends will improve,as well as money. Path #2. Sneaking around with FP,someone Devious,Cunning and without care finds out and blackmails them (PENNY PEABODY!) Eventually Jughead does find out (via gossip),there's remorse on their side but no care or sympathy from Jughead or their friends (att) as trust has been blown away leaving Jughead feeling like he's been stolen from. Pro's- After a period of self reflection Michelle comes to the conclusion that (despite breaking up with Jughead again) she does not need to keep going back,maybe it's time to find someone or something new. The time for heartbreak,loss and regret are over and she is coming back refocused and re energized. maybe giving FP a real chance. Con's- Flirting,one night stands,sex/alcohol abuse,Emotional turmoil,lust,cheating,deception,long healing process. The King of Pentacles R feels like it's aimed at FP in the stages of his life when he was drinking,financially lost (causing him to do some shady stuff) and not taking care of his family,if he can't care for himself how can he love anyone else? Pro's-This too shall pass and the Financial stability will get better,The family life is getting better and Michelle is even saving up for college. Her newly reformed relationship with FP is solid and secure and they can definitely rely on each other. 4--Will Michelle see FP again? 10 of wands (Whether she wants to or not!) 5--How Michelle can act now in regards to this encounter- 8 of wands (Active,go for it,fast paced) 6--What Michelle can learn from this encounter- Temperance (How to temper herself,slow down,to wait and let it come to her,this card is also a soulmate or reuniting card. ) 7--Outcome (of meeting again and/or of having the encounter in general)- Strength (They will meet again if they don't run and have the strength to deal with what comes their way,they are generally very close.)

Chemistry Spread Layout: ****5**** ****4**** *2**1**3*

1. Is there sexual chemistry between us? 6 of pentacles 2. Would I enjoy it? Page of cups 3. Would he enjoy it? 5 of pentacles R 4. What would our sex be like? 9 of pentacles R 5. Will we end up having sex? Wheel of Fortune R

Sex Spread (Michelle and FP Jones) 1***3***5 2***4***6 **7**8** ***9***

1. Your natural sexual nature (how you approach sex/sexual acts.)- Wheel of Fortune R (At a stand still,trying to avoid it or repress it,probably for Juhead's sake,but it does what it wants and she can't really control her nature. ) 2. Your partner's natural sexual nature (how they approach sex/sexual acts.)- 9 of swords R (Surprisingly he feels guilty or depressed over it,maybe he cheated on his ex wife or maybe it's because of how Jughead feels)

NOTE: These two cards describe BOTH attitudes AND behaviors.

3. What you need in a sexual partner (to be sexually fulfilled.)- 4 of pentacles (Possessive,only them,Private,Dominant,Knows what he's doing and how to do it,confident.) 4. What they need in a sexual partner (to be sexually fulfilled.)- Queen of wands (Proud,Fiery,vital,free,magnetic,Sexy,dominant) 5. What you will be able to give them sexually.- The Empress (NEED I SAY MORE?! Look her up,like The High Priestess but more committed) 6. What they will be able to give you sexually.- The Moon (Mystery,intrigue,Lust,probably sneaking away together in the dead of night.)

NOTE: 5 and 6 are needs you/you're partner will be able to fulfill for one another.

7. What will the sex generally be like between you? (Description.)- 8 of pentacles (Heady,Exciting,fast,fun) 8. Will it be good or bad sex? The Devil R (Alluring but will start to feel trapped or guilty over time,this may indicate their first break up.)

NOTE: There's a difference between these two questions. You could pull the 2 of Swords for Slot 7 and get the Sun for slot 8.

9. Advice on how to make sex fulfilling for both partners. (General advice on how to reconcile both sexual natures successfully/in a way where both are happy and satisfied.)- Death (Keep it Intense,maybe it's better in secret,but they'll be inevitably discovered.Accept the new changes without shame or guilt.)

Michelle during any relationship reading lol

#Riverdale #fp jones imagine #jughead jones imagine #tarot spread #creative tarot #tarot writer #mughead

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