#so when replying and sending in non-anon asks i kind of want to be recognized? but i think im far beyond that

[hiddenobject-fanblog]

In a mix between wanting to make this a Hidden Object-based fanblog, or dedicate it to the Jack in the Box mascot...🤔

[rainydayotomes]

helloo!! i dont rly like showing my account so would i be able to request here? it would b nice if u could write a van helsing x reader wherein we work as a government employee (how they met basically, post non lupin or van route) and he learns she doesnt associate much with her family for personal reasons after they share each others pasts? if its too much to ask for i can req something different! tyy

Hey Anon! Thats totally fine- its why I turned on the anon feature ;) and hey, thanks for being my first request! Essentially this fic is a little bit of a weird AU, where you don't end up with anyone and never met Van. I hope thats ok! If not, feel free to send in another request! Love you ❤ I hope you enjoy!

----------

There she was again.

That woman. The one who made his heart skip a beat at just a glance.

She laughed as she conversed with two men on either side of her. One of them, Van Helsing recognized as Victor Frankenstein. The famous alchemist.

The other one had long, red hair and had his jacket hanging off half his body. The woman who had caught his eye was sandwiched between the two; and was seemingly good friends with them. Van Helsing wondered who she was.

"Aha! Eyeing her I see!" A snide voice came from behind her.

"Tch." He closed his eyes and turned to the young king.

"Everytime you see her, you always stare. Why don't you go say hi?" Delacroix said with a loud smile that made Van Helsing sigh.

"No."

"Awww, cmon! Why not? We have some time to spare! Go have lunch with her or something!"

"No."

The young king frowned.

"That's an order."

....Goddammit.

"Tch. Fine."

He turned to see her walk towards the dining hall, where government employees and guests often met for lunch.

What the hell would he even say? He stalled for a moment, wondering what he would do when he got to her. Would he ask her for her name and run off? Would he sit down and just... eat across from her?

"Come on, let's go!" Suddenly his arm was yanked quite forcefully, and he was made to follow Delacroix into the dining hall. This was bound to be trouble.

"I thought I was only here escort and advocate for you? Not be forced into eating lunch with people unrelated to us."

Delacroix, with his hand still tightly around Van Helsing's arm, opened the door to the cafeteria easily and led the two inside.

"Well I consider you one of my loyal subjects now! And as your king, I want to see my people thrive and be happy!" He said proudly.

"Tch. All I am is your bodyguard and an advocate. What happened to wanting revenge?"

"Oh shut up about that already. Look- there she is!"

The young king pointed out the woman Van Helsing had been admiring from afar, now sitting alone at a small round table. It didn't look like she was waiting for anyone.

"Here we go..." He mumbled to himself as he was forcefully dragged right up to the table.

"Are you waiting for anyone?" The young king's voice cooly asked.

The girl looked up at him, and her eyes went wide.

"A-Ah! K-King Delacroix! N-No, I'm not waiting for anyone. Please, take a seat if you want." She said as she gestured to the two other seats across from her.

"And Mr. Van Helsing... It's nice to meet you both."

Delacroix sat down in one of the chairs, seemingly unaware how awkward this was for poor Van. Or maybe he just didn't care.

"Is this some type of torture...?" He mumbled to himself before he sat down.

"Well, it seems you know plenty about us! But what about you? My advisor has seen you around quite a bit, and he always eyes you as you walk by!" He said proudly.

Dear god, this really was torture wasn't it!?

She gave out a nervous laugh, a blush quickly dusting her delicate cheeks.

"At least this is cute." Van thought to himself.

"My name is (Y/N) (L/N), and I report to Her Majesty on public affairs. Stuff like how the different districts are doing, how crime is and such..."

"Ah, I've heard of you. You're friendly with everyone except your family, aren't you?" The young king said without hesitation.

"I-I uh..."

Van Helsing sighed at Delacroix's unapologetic nosiness.

"Delacroix, you forgot your coat in the meeting room." He said as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Ah!" Delacroix rose from his seat in a slight panic. "I'll be back!" And with that, he took off faster then any human could run. Thankfully he didn't notice that he was still wearing his coat.

"Sorry about that." The soldier murmered to the girl.

"O-Oh no, it's ok! After last week's incident, I-I'm kind of used to this sort of thing..." She trailed off.

"...what happened?" He wanted to ask, but he knew he shouldn't. His unvoiced question lingered above his head, and she seemed to catch on to his thinking.

"Ahaha... well, one of my parents actually was at one of the meetings I was attending, and tried to talk to me... but I don't really... get along with them. So I tried to avoid them as best as I could, but... they kind of cornered me. I told them to leave me alone, but I was a bit too loud when I said it... the whole public affairs board saw what happened."

"I see." He replied simply.

"O-Oh, I uhm... I'm sorry. I know that talking about family might be a uh... little tough for you. I didn't mean to be insensitive. I apologize..."

It was pretty well known that Van Helsing's family was murdered, after the whole situation with Aleister came to light and he was sent to court. But it was still weird to hear that some girl he had never met before knew his past. But he doubt that she knew all of it.

"It's fine. But why don't you want to talk to your parents?"

"Ah.. it's... personal. Personal reasons."

Van Helsing closed his eyes in thoughtful silence. So she wasn't as naive to tell him absolutely everything when they first meet.

He hated to admit this, but he was definitely intrigued.

"H-Hey... I uh, have another meeting I have to get to. Do you uhm... want to go out later? For some tea or something? I'll be free around 5."

Van Helsing mulled it over in his head for a moment. Delacroix had a meeting at 5:15, but it wasn't one he necessarily had to attend. He could already practically hear the kid's voice telling him to go in his head.

He gave a nod to her.

"Sure. I've got nothing planned."

She perked up. Perhaps she wasn't expecting him to accept? He couldn't help but smile to himself over how cute she was.

"A-Alright, I'll meet you at the cafe down the street. The one-"

"-where the evening sun makes it look like the whole place is glowing?"

"Yes! That one!"

He nodded, giving her a "sure" before she got up and ran off.

He couldn't help but close his eyes and smile. She was pretty damn cute. It was pretty clear she wanted to go somewhere that would give them a little but of a fun, romantic atmosphere... but he didn't mind too much.

He was curious about her family, and why she didn't want to associate with them. But he knew that was none of his concern. Still, he quite enjoyed the thought of perhaps learning that reason one day.

Jeez, being with that kid really did make him soft, huh?

[leonkennedystuff]

coming home (leon kennedy x reader)

[RE6!Leon]

Summary: ! REQUESTED ! If you are still taking requests, How about Leon (RE 6 or Vendetta) meeting younger reader parents? With a tense situation because reader parents thinks that Leon is very old for she, and Leon tries to win their approval to ask for reader hand(?

Warnings: none

this took FOREVER to make and I’m sorry for the quality of this - writer’s block was so bad :( I hope you still enjoy though, anon and other readers <3

(Note: This takes place pre-Resident Evil 6, more or less 2 months before the Tall Oaks incident to keep it as canon-compliant and neat as possible.) 

Your restless hand runs through your thick, (H/C) hair once again – although you do it to put it in place, your unnecessary finger-combing does the opposite of that.

If it weren’t your repetitive movements, your restive lip-gnawing and your consecutive sighing was what made apparent how on edge you were currently feeling.

This was all too bittersweet, all of this – after nearly 3 years of being away, you were finally back in your hometown.

Seeing the quaint, two-story bungalow house of white and red brick made your heart swell with beautiful memories – of a time that seems like a lifetime ago, when the world hadn’t turned so malignant.

You didn’t realize just how much you ached to be home; now that your mind wasn’t inundated with your work, you finally felt full-force the weight of your pent-up homesickness.

Just standing in front of the weathered brown door got you feeling overwhelmed - like you couldn’t believe it was actually before your eyes. It was a very welcome change though; you were sick and tired of hopping from country to country, from hotel room to hotel room.

Although light chips littered the intricate floral patterns of the door’s face and more scratches decorated its surface, it holds a deep-rooted charm that was unlike any other. Sentimentality, you thought.

Your job had forced you to be away for so long from all that was familiar and comfortable, subjecting you to witness and experience first-hand the cruelties and terror of the world you and the rest of mankind now lived in.

Bio-organic weapons, mutations, viral outbreaks that reduce whole cities to non-existence… It was reality, the horrendous truth, and you were selected from your former position in the USSS for your great skills and your achievements to work under the D.S.O. operative of the United States government to combat these kinds of bioterrorism.

Although young at the just-turned age of 27, you’ve been an agent of theirs for 2 years now and you’ve seen unimaginable things – no matter how long and how much you’ve gone through, the heartbreak of losing a team mate, a friend, and the crippling fear towards these creatures only worsens each time it’s encountered.

But it’s why you never stop fighting - no matter how daunting, no matter how perilous, no matter how deadly.

You want nothing more but to avenge the lives lost in the grips of these terrorists, to protect places dear to you like here, (Your Home Town), and people like your parents. For you, there were no greater reasons than those.

Picking absent-mindedly at the hangnails on your fingers, your bright (E/C) eyes shift from the familiar door of your childhood and to the tall, handsome man beside you.

Your line of work is dangerous, probably one of the most precarious jobs available, if not the most. It’s left you with permanent scars – on your body and on your psyche. Indeed, saving the world time and time again came with grave and detrimental prices but if there was one thing you were tremendously grateful for in your time as an agent – it’s him. Without a doubt.

Leon Scott Kennedy, your partner – in and out of the field.

“Are you alright?” You break the silence, a nervous smile making its way to your face as your fingers continue to fidget with one another. You couldn’t help the unusual grin; something about the current situation was both nerve-wracking as it was droll - for you, anyway.

Evidently, your voice caused the distracted blonde man to crash back down from whatever thoughts were running wild in his head. He turns his attention to you, blinking before a small grin of his own widens his lips.

“I am,” He replies, although you sense that he wasn’t being totally honest. Despite the kind and reassuring look he was displaying, his impeccably blue eyes still seemed occupied with thoughts.

You don’t press on it though, mostly because you knew he just didn’t want to admit the tension he was feeling. It was mutual; you didn’t want to make each other more nervous than you already were.

“Ready?” You glance over him one more time, a thoughtful nod accompanying your movements. Leon gives you his green light with his own head moving up and down, a lungful of air exhaled in a form of a sigh.

You reach out to take his large, slightly calloused hand in your softer, smaller one and give it a heartening squeeze. Wanting to return his own support, he tenderly steals a moment to bring your knuckles to his soft lips.

Your face flushes and you try to contain the smile threatening to rip the corners of your mouth; the fullness of his skin and the feeling of it soft and flush against yours made it almost impossible though.

Be still, restless heart, you chastise yourself, shaking your head.

As he lets go, you gingerly bring your hand up to the doorbell, taking in a deep breath before pressing it firmly, feeling the old thing click under your touch. Hearing the faint buzz resonate from inside, the nerves that you thought had finally settled instantly returns – this time with a vengeance, hitting you harder than before.

Your whole body was in turmoil after sealing your faith - stomach churning, chest pounding, face prickling, hands growing clammy.

You haven’t seen your parents in a very long time, a period much longer than you wanted – does your mother still wear the same perfume? Was your father still as healthy as you remember? How would you react seeing them? How would they react seeing you?

How would they react seeing Leon, or when you introduce him as the man you’ve been dating for a year and a half now? Or when they find out how much younger you were compared to him, if they haven’t already noticed just by looking at you both– you, still fresh-faced and barely north of being 27, and him, more matured, in the middle of being 36?

Definitely, there was an age-gap running between you both – but it didn’t matter to you, and Leon, although struggling sometimes with insecurity, knew that the care and love he had dwarves the doubts that would sometimes cloud his head. You were his best friend and, on top of that, the person he trusted the most.

“Who is it?” A gentle voice, slightly faint from the distance, calls from beyond the door, footsteps padding and more audible as they grew closer.

The breath you take is shaky, and it’s like the inside of your chest shakes with it; you could recognize that motherly voice anywhere and hearing it in person for the first time in years makes your eyes grow moist.

Beside you, Leon catches your emotions. You’ve told him about your parents and your golden childhood; how close you were to both your mom and dad and how heartbroken they were to send their only child off. He knew you missed them terribly, but he didn’t quite expect this. He couldn’t help but smile.

Leon takes a small sidestep to close the distance between your bodies and rests his warm hand on your hip, an effort to be encouraging. You melt into his side, moving into his touch, his familiar aroma filling your lungs and your own hand hovering over his.

When the door in front of you both finally opens, you – as if on cue- tighten your grip on the blonde man.

Your mother appears and you let your breath go, not even realizing you were holding it. Your heart had started to race, and it seemed that hers’ was as well.

“(Y/N)?” Your mom peers through the screen door, her aged (Y/M/E/C) eyes wide at the sight of you, like she was seeing a ghost. You were probably gaping at her the same way; asides from a few strands of white hair and a slimmer face, she looked the same way – healthier, even.

“Mom,” You beam, your voice catching slightly as you take a step forward, like her figure had beckoned you over.

Hearing your voice, your mother looked like she was going to have a heart attack right then and there. “Oh, my life!” She exclaims, her right hand clutching her chest, “(Y/D/N)! Come here, quick! Hurry!” Your mom calls for your father, turning her head for just a split-second before quickly whipping back to you, as if afraid you’ll disappear from view if she looked away for too long.

“Come on in, come in – my dear girl, I can’t believe it!” She sobs, rushing to open the door that divided your bodies and letting you and Leon enter the house. It seems, though, that her shock was still too overwhelming for her to notice the man you had brought with you.

Once inside, you were immediately wrapped in a tight and very earnest embrace. You returned it with just as much vigor, feeling your heart soar in a way that made you lightheaded. If a simple action could make for lost time, this embrace would bring years back.

“What’s going o- (Y/N)!?”

Your head quickly turns to see your dad appearing from behind the cedar wood staircase. Your attempt in keeping your tears behind your eyes had been fruitful until this very moment – watching your father’s kind (Y/D/E/C) eyes widen at you finally broke the dam.

“Papa!” You sob softly as he rushes over, his arms overlapping your mom’s to join in a hug that was long overdue. For a tranquil moment, the three of you remain as you are – huddled together in a reunion that’s been yearned for years.

It seemed like your eyes were closed for minutes, just basking in the warmth of your parents, and when you finally reopen them, the first thing in your line of sight is your partner, smiling thoughtfully. Regardless the enthralled look on his face that suggested he didn’t mind being minded, you felt very bashful for having momentarily forgotten about him.

You straighten yourself a little bit, causing your parent’s hold on you to loosen up slightly. Your knowing gaze doesn’t leave Leon’s sapphire regard when you grin at him, nodding with silent intent.

“Mom, dad,” You break away, their eyes following your hand as you gesture towards Leon - Leon who already had a polite smile on his full lips and masking perfectly the small jabs of his nerves.

You could have chuckled seeing your parents’ surprise to finally take notice of him. Your dad was the first one to approach; he looked so grateful making his way towards Leon and you were in awe.

The reason as to why you were nervous bringing him home and introducing him to your parents was because of how conservative they can be and how nit-picky it tends to make them. You were anxious with their reaction, especially with the age-gap. Although they don’t dictate your decisions, you wanted terribly for them to like and approve of Leon.

“It’s good to finally meet you, Mr. -?” Your father clamps Leon’s hand in a firm handshake, regarding the blonde man with the utmost interest as he waits for his name.

Leon returns the grip, “Kennedy, Leon Kennedy,” He nods with the best of manners.

“Mr. Leon Kennedy,” Your father smiles, looking back at you for a second to send you a quick wink. You frown at him playfully. “I take it that you’re (Y/N)’s boss?” He asks, although sounding more like a conversational statement rather than a legitimate question.

With that, the frown on your face quickly turns real. Oh no, you thought.

You clear your throat, catching your dad’s attention.

“Papa, Leon isn’t my boss,” You start with a soft shake of your head, chuckling a little despite the nervous somersaults in your stomach. Your eyes move to rest on your mom beside you before returning to your dad who was beginning to look a little confused.

Taking a breath, you walk over to the blonde man – to the man who has been home to you for the few years gone by and - you hope and pray - for many more to come.

Despite your small worry, you take his hand in your own, looking up to him warmly and finding comfort in his beautiful ocean-eyes. You relax even more when his thumbs run across the humps of your knuckles.

“Leon is my boyfriend.”

                                    ____________________________

Your hands were wrapped around a white ceramic mug filled with tea, black tea, and you were thankful for the warmth your palms were stealing from it. Moreover, you were thankful to have something to hold and have your nails tap at when the tense silence in the dining table grew.

Around a quarter of an hour has passed since your formal introduction of Leon and it was more than accurate to say that your parents were not over the moon with it.

For Christ’s sake, your father thought he was your damn boss! You remind yourself, hastily so.

You bring the mug to your lips, taking a small sip and focusing on the faint bitter tones invading your mouth. You weren’t thirsty, you weren’t so crazy over tea either, but it was better to do something - anything at all- even for just a few seconds, to distract from the torn expressions on your parents’ faces.

“So, uh, how long have you both been together?” Your dad clears his throat, trying to start a conversation with a smile that seemed way too conflicted to pass as genuine.

“A year and a half now,” You answer him, bringing his eyes and attention to rest on you. He merely says ‘Ah’ and nods his head, giving your mom a quick look before looking back at his own drink, as if to say ‘Your turn’.

It took a lot of will to keep the peeved sigh from escaping past your mouth; you didn’t like the turn your homecoming took. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t expect their initial reaction, but you didn’t expect it to bother them this much.

“So, Leon, how long have you been working in the DSO?” Indeed, it was your mom’s turn to say something. All eyes, including yours, look to the man beside you.

Leon moves his hands from resting on the tabletop to his lap, dusting his fitted black jeans despite the absence of any stain or lint. You understood his slight unease – he didn’t like talking about his work to civilians, it brought back some very vivid memories he’d do almost anything to forget.

“Since 2011, Mrs. (Y/L/N),” He replies kindly, which your appreciated.

In the DSO, Leon was the prime operative, the main agent, especially valued by Mr. Adam Benford, the founder of the organization and the President of the United States.

You’ve heard of Leon Scott Kennedy prior to being transferred from the USSS; “The Raccoon City Survivor”, “Operation Javier’s Golden Boy,” “President Graham’s favorite agent” – these were just some of the titles he’s earned himself from past missions that you knew him by. Regardless the silly labels though, your coworkers from the DHS respected him a lot.

So, when you found out you were to be tested as a fit to be his field partner? You were beyond intimidated by the task, but were extremely overjoyed and flattered when you were chosen out of the other potential agents. To work with someone so skilled and so praised the way Leon was – you knew you wouldn’t get another opportunity.

Never in your wildest dreams nor did it ever cross your mind once that you were going to fall in love with him though; albeit you were 25 at the time, you were mature and a professional in your job and that entailed professionalism in all aspects. His attractiveness, though not unnoticed, had never bothered you and his seldom thoughtful comments was only enough to make you blush.

So, naturally, it came as a huge surprise to not only you, but Leon as well when the easiness of your friendship and comradery blossomed into something so much deeper and intimate – much deeper and intimate than you both saw coming.

It didn’t take long when you and him started to develop profound emotions for each other – it took just a matter of months but strung along for a year and a half now.

You love him, you really do, and you know he does too.

Breaking yourself from your own reverie, you tuck your plump bottom lip between your teeth and bask in the feeling of warmth spreading in your chest for a second.

“He saved my life more times than I’m sure I can recall,” You share, coy but very fondly, with a small simper accompanying your kind string of words. “In all ways,” You continue, your voice growing soft as you intended for only Leon to hear the last bit.

Beside you, he holds your gaze, letting every bit of your sentiment seep into his beating heart. Leon, for a very long time, has struggled to show or accept affection – since he was ‘recruited’ in US-STRATCOM after the events of Raccoon City, and even the events during, his scarring experiences had hardened him.

On that tragic night in ’98, Leon was catapulted into a life he had never envisioned – one so dark, deceiving and so utterly frightening he couldn’t stand to believe at first that it was all real.

Definitely, he believed in all of it now, even as it continues to evolve, grow more dangerous and horrific – it’s the only truth he’s known for so long, his life revolved around it.

One thing that never gets easier to believe though was losing someone - a teammate or a whole unit, a friend, even civilians he’d failed to save. His once vigored heart turned to stone, and it seemed to be easier that way. He believed that deaths would be much easier to cope with if there wasn’t enough reason to miss them.

Despite what he believed though, you were the first person he’d open himself up to as fully as he can bring himself; he’d been left behind by a woman he survived hell with in Raccoon City with a child who had just turned orphan on the same night, he’d been tricked, lied and betrayed by a woman he’d pined over for years countless of times, and he’d had comrades rat him out, causing him to lose so many people.

You were a fear of his, but there was just something about you that made it so impossible to stay away; like Icarus flying too close to the sun.

You were loving and caring and kind and warm and gentle and everything that he had been starved of. You were a breath of the freshest air and confiding in you was the best risk he’d ever taken.

Smiling at Leon, you reach out from under the table to hold his hand. With his thoughts about you, he was quick to return the grip, a need to be close to you nipping at his subconscious.

When you look from him to your father, you were slightly surprised to see his softened features.

“You really care about each other, huh?” He nods, a redolent expression etched on his aged yet gentle face. His eyes, kind eyes that crinkled at the slightest suggestion of a smile from years of happiness of having a loving family, switches to rest on your mother, your mother who seemed to be thinking the same thoughts and feeling the same feelings as him.

“Reminds me a bit of you and me, huh, (Y/D/N)?” Your mom pipes, sharing a smile. “Your dad and I may not work jobs as heavy duty as yours, but we care for each other the way you two seem to do,” She says meaningfully, her long fingers intertwining. She turns to your father, a knowing grin being passed on, “It’s good – it’s always good to see someone love. I can tell just by the way he was looking at (Y/N),” She gestures towards you and Leon.

“I don’t know where I’d be without her,” Leon adds, still slightly reserved but there was a tenderness in his voice and the way he looked at you that made your breath hitch blissfully.

“You’ll take good care of her?” Your dad poses, and Leon can’t help but grin. The answer to that question was always definitive, but he had given it more thought recently – he’ll always take care of you, no matter what, for as long as you wanted him to. He hoped forever.

“There’s actually something I’ve been meaning to ask…”

[xxx-cat-xxx]

Saltwater

Anonymous asked:

I love motion sick peter so much! I need more fics of it. Anyway maybe tony rewards all the avengers on a cruise on one of his boats (cause we know he has them) for a much needed break and peter is all excited but he then finds out he gets seasick and he’s all pukey n stuff and everyone is trying their best to help out! Thankss 

That was my first prompt - thank you so much, anon! I struggled a little with balancing so many characters in one scene, but I really hope you like the result. Emeto, a drunk Bruce Banner, hopefully something to make you smile. Also, 76 followers and counting!

“You´re telling me that this is a Stark Industries vessel and we can´t get back to the shore?” Bruce asked confusedly.

“Of course we can get back to the shore”, Tony replied, a hint of offendedness in his voice, “we could probably survive a trip through outer space in this baby. But if we go back now, it´s not gonna be a pleasant ride, ´s all I´m saying.”

“And you didn´t think of checking the weather forecast before taking us out into the middle of nowhere?” Clint sounded irritated.

“Thank you for your trust - yes, I did that, but please excuse that I didn´t know that thunderstorms and rough winds would be upgraded to hurricane within a few hours.”

“Then what´s the use of all your robots and AIs if they can´t even predict the weather?”

“Gosh, what´s your problem? Sorry for taking you on a free luxury cruise worth several thousands of dollars!”

“Kids, calm down.” Natasha interfered from where she was seated on the railing, completely undisturbed by the fact that the Atlantic was sloshing around just a few dozen feet below her. “You´re sounding like a bunch of five-year olds.”

“We stay here for the night, away from the disturbances, and get back first thing in the morning. I don´t see how that´s a problem.“ Tony stated.

He turned to Peter, who had been listening to the discussion silently, a bit unsure of whether he should be laughing or feeling intimidated. “Kid, you okay with that?”

There really wasn´t any need for asking. The smallest store room on Tony´s cruise ship was larger than Peter´s and May´s whole apartment, the equipment similar to that of a five-star hotel, plus labs and technical facilities anyone with a remote interest in IT could only dream of. Peter had boarded the ship hours ago and still had explored barely half of it yet. 

He mirrored Tony´s expectant smile. “Yes, Mr. Stark, I´d love to stay for the night!”

———-

A few hours later Peter was sure that this was the most stupid thing he had ever said. He was slumped over the toilet, his head nearly hanging into the bowl, retching for the hundredth time this night, while his stomach was trying to reject what had been expelled long ago. He´d always thought that motion sickness was still a better deal than the flu or a stomach bug, but tonight had proved him wrong. He was sure that he´d never felt this downright miserable. He was infinitely tired, yet unable to sleep, his body was shaking uncontrollably, and he just felt sick all over.

Peter managed to hoist himself upright on the sink and swallow a few sips of water, praying that they would stay down this time. He knew that he needed more than that, though, electrolytes preferably. He had skipped lunch at home, anticipating an extravagant meal during the cruise, but at dinner time the constant up and down caused by the faraway storm had already made him queasy enough for his appetite to vanish, and he´d barely finished his plate.

He felt terribly lightheaded when he made for the common kitchen, torn in between wishing someone would be there to take care of him - Tony being the obvious choice in May´s absence - and wanting it to be empty, just to be spared the embarrassment.

His hopes of avoiding publicity vanished into thin air when he entered the kitchen. Not only was it not empty, but literally everyone was there. Despite feeling terrible, he couldn´t help but grin at the scene that unfolded in front of his eyes.

Bruce was leaning against a wall, looking completely drunk, while Clint was framing his outline with dart arrows like a market artist. Natasha was sitting on a table, a row of empty glasses lined up in front of her, but still appearing completely sober and watching the scene with a raised eyebrow. Tony, in the meantime, was clapping at every dart Clint hit into the wall, cheering and apparently having the time of his life.

Peter hated the thought of interrupting, and he was about to turn on his heels and head back to his quarter, but the ship gave a sudden lurch and sent his head spinning, making him dizzy enough to grab the doorway for balance. Tony, who must have caught the movement from his eye, turned around and greeted him jovially.

“Spiderboy, what´s up?”, he shouted a few decibel louder than necessary, “thought you went to sleep early?”

“Uhmmm….” Peter didn´t know what to say, and it didn´t help that he had to use all his concentration for staying on his feet and swallowing back the saliva that was flooding his mouth again and again. 

Something must have given him away, because Tony´s attitude turned sober within a second, and he took a few quick steps towards Peter. “What´s going on, kiddo?”

“I´m -” he´d meant to say something, but another wave hit the boat and nausea overwhelmed him, sending his stomach contents up his throat. He pushed past Tony and stumbled to the sink, where the few sips of water came back up together with horribly tasting bile.

“Kid? Are you okay?” Peter could here panic creeping into his mentor´s voice.

”Yeah,” he choked before gagging again. “Just….seasick?”

Vomiting didn´t help. If anything, the nausea increased even further. He was so humiliated and shaky when he was done that he simply put his head down onto the edge of the kitchen counter, trying to block out the people around him. Someone was talking, but he couldn´t really care to listen. All he wanted was his aunt, his bed, and a solid, non-moving ground below his feet.

“Okay, okay.” Someone took him by the shoulders, led him towards the sofa. Peter opened his eyes a bit, recognizing Clint´s leather jacket. The change of position made him gag again, bile running out of the corner of his mouth and dripping onto his t-shirt.

“Alright, Peter. It´s alright.” The archer reassured, producing a tissue and wiping Peter´s face, although he seemed to pale a little bit himself. “How long has this been going on?”

“…a few hours, maybe?“ It wasn´t supposed to be a question, but Peter seemed to have lost track of time, he was honestly feeling like he had spent weeks, not just half a day on open sea.

“Well, that explains why you´re dehydrated. You know there´s medicine to prevent this kind of thing? You could have just said something.” Clint´s brow furrowed.

“I…I´ve never been on a boat, actually. Not on open sea, at least. And never in a storm.”

“No need to get defensive, kid.” Tony´s face appeared from somewhere.

“Doctor, a little help here?” he added, bending over Peter and taking his wrist to feel his pulse.

Bruce made a few steps towards them, swaying on his feet, and took in Peter´s appearance, his face contorting into a drunken grin.

“He´s green!” he laughed. “He´s green all over his face!”

“Yep, thanks for your valuable professional opinion.” Tony snorted.

“Well, that´s kind of your fault.” Natasha remarked. “You´re the one who started playing drinking games.”

“Yeah, go ahead, make everything my fault. Gravity, the earth going around the sun, what else is on me?”

“Shut up, Stark. You know what I mean.” She gave him a look.

“Fine, then make yourself useful and get the doctor to his room to sober up. And take Legolas with you, I don´t need two pukey kids to look after.”

He ignored Clint´s protest and turned back to Peter, who was sitting with his head between his hands, swallowing bitter saliva, trying to minimize his movements as not to go into another round of heaving. “Well. Wow. Guess you don´t like to hear that, but we need to get some fluids into you.”

He disappeared for a moment and returned with a bottle of Gatorade.

“Just a few sips, kid.”

Peter tried his best not to gag when he felt the liquid running down his throat. Everything was spinning around him, and he was glad for Tony´s supporting hand on his arm. He took another sip.

“That´s the spirit, boy.” Tony said, putting the bottle down. “Now, let´s try and get you comfortable.”

He brought a pillow and a blanket, and Peter lay down slowly, trying to ignore the constant up and down of the couch below him. Tony placed an empty trash can next to him on the ground.

“The storm should be over in a few hours, then I’ll drop you landlubber back to the shore.“ he smirked. Peter nodded weakly, not trusting himself to open his mouth without throwing up again.

Tony sat down across from him at the table, pulled out a tablet and started to work on something involving a dizzying amount of equations, but Peter could see his eyes glancing across to him every so often.

He curled into a ball, trying to jostle his stomach as less as possible.Time seemed to pass slowly. He could hear Nat return at some point of time, talking to Tony in a low voice, but Peter was too exhausted to listen. Everything turned into a humming noise in the background of his mind, and he finally drifted off to sleep.

———-

Peter woke up to the smell of slightly burnt toast. He opened his eyes. His head was pounding, and he was feeling slightly woozy, but his stomach had calmed down significantly. The smell of food, enough to make him sick just hours ago, was now reassuringly appealing.

He sat up slowly, taking in the scene around him. Clint was in the kitchen, apparently making breakfast and talking to Bruce, who stood at the counter, cradling a cup of tea and looking decidedly hungover. Nat was balancing on the low bookshelf in the corner of the room, a sly grin playing around her lips. Something made Peter feel like she had been sitting in the same position the whole night, watching them quietly like a cat on a window silk, but maybe this was just the impression she wanted him to have.

Tony was lying half across the table, draped over several tablets of various sizes, facing Peter, fast asleep. His usually elegantly styled hair was a complete mess, and the shadows and wrinkles around his eyes were more visible now that he was sleeping.

Peter tried to get up quietly, but he was still uncoordinated and ended up tripping over the trash can. Tony startled awake, eyes darting quickly across the room. “What….?” he asked, then his look fell on Peter, giving him a once-over, and he smiled a little.

“Ahh, Spider-Man is back from the sick and miserable. Nice to see you up and in a non-barfing state,” he teased, sitting upright and rubbing his eyes. “Friday, ETA?”

“One hour and 17 minutes, Sir.”

“Home, sweet home.” he said, stretching and then massaging his neck with a frown. “And back to work. Although, to be honest, I feel like I´ll need another cruise trip soon to recover from a holiday with the Avengers.” 

[moonbeammuses-a]

Mobile Rules

-NO MINORS.

I will NOT roleplay with anone under 18. PERIOD.

-I am Mutuals-ONLY.

I am also selective.

I have tons of things going on with life and can't (unfortunately) RP with everyone I meet. I wish could, but I don't have the time nor the energy.

Non-Mutuals can send in general asks about my muses or IM me with questions, but all In-Character interaction is mutuals-only. I also will not Roleplay via anon asks, so don't bother.

-READ MY RULES

I'll keep them as simple as I can. Lots of clarification in the details, but at LEAST read the main points. 

-Have a Rules page and an About Page

I will NOT follow back someone who does not have a Rules and About page. I need to know that you are an adult, that your views on RP match or at least mesh with, my own, and what your expectations are for RP.

-Don't Follow me if you are Uncomfortable with NSFW content

This blog WILL have smut. I am 26 and all of my muses are adults, though I do have teen/childverses for most of them. 

It WILL have gore. It WILL have blood, death, torture, violence of numerous kinds.

There are villians in my muselist. There are legitimately insane, truly EVIL characters in my muselist.

There could be anything on this blog, including non-con scenarios (that are not romanticized, nor shied away from).

Bear this in mind before you follow me. I will not be lectured on my blog content after the fact. You are responsible for taking this into consideration BEFORE you follow me.

-I WILL NOT WRITE UNDERAGE SMUT

ALL SEXUAL SCENARIOS WILL BE WITH MUSES OVER THE AGE OF 18. PERIOD.

I DON'T CARE WHAT THE AGE OF CONSENT IS IN YOUR STATE/COUNTRY/WHATEVER. YOU AND YOUR MUSE NEED TO BE OVER THE AGE OF 18 FOR US TO WRITE SEXUAL THREADS

I WILL NOT SEXUALIZE MINORS IN ANY CAPACITY.

DO NOT ASK

-Come at me with IDEAS.

I figured that from you following me, you want to write. Great.

If I've followed you, if we are mutuals, I wanna write with you, too.

But don't IM me with "I wanna rp" and when I ask for ideas say "I dunno, who do you wanna put with my muse?" or something similar.

I have over 30 muses in my list. If I have specific inspiration for a thread, I'll come to you with it. Do me the same courtesy.

Dont come to ME for a thread and then expect me to have an idea. 

If you dont have an idea, thats OKAY. Tell me when you DO.

Mutuals can always like my starter calls for random starters or send me memes, but if youre gonna IM me to plot, come at me with SOMETHING. I'm not doing all of the work.

-Yes, you CAN send me that meme/starter

If the meme is on my page, anywhere, and we are mutuals, you can do the thing. Exceptions to this are memes that involve pre-established relationships or smut. I don't do pre-established ANYTHING without discussing it first.

HOWEVER, I am always down to plot a relationship between our muses, so we can send memes with abandon!

"But I've already sent you a meme!" Great, SEND ME MORE. More asks means more chance one will inspire me. I always feel really bad when I get just the one meme from someone I REALLY want to play with, but am uninspired for how to reply. You can always send multiples, and I encourage it.

Do NOT overload a meme with muses/questions. Be considerate about how many things you are asking for per ask. There is no hard line for this, but I'd prefer a max of 3 "parts" to an ask. An example could be one question for three muses, or three different questions for one muse. but don't send me several questions for several muses. I will ignore and delete the ask.

"But I've never sent you anything!" Great, let's start now. If we are Mutuals, I WANT TO PLAY WITH YOU

"But our characters are from different fandoms!" Great, let's see what happens when they meet! did one fall through a wormhole and end up in the others' universe? Was one cryo-frozen for centuries? Is it an AU? LETS FIND OUT! Just, again, no pre-established ships without chatting with me via IM! I won't bite if you wanna ask aout a pairing or a ship!

-SPECIFY WHAT MUSE YOU ARE SENDING THE MEME TO OR IT WILL BE DELETED. THERE ARE NO EXCEPTIONS TO THIS RULE.

-NO NSFW ANONS

If you’re an adult, there’s no reason you can’t send me an NSFW ask as yourself. Tag it OOC if you need to, I dont care, but no anon NSFW.

-Yes, you can turn the Ask into a thread, but MAKE A NEW POST

It's frustrating as hell seeing the exact same grey blocks of text on every single post in a thread, ESPECIALLY if it was an ask with a long answer. Be considerate of me, and help me be considerate of my followers, by turning asks into new posts if you want to continue a thread. I will endeavor to always follow this rule, as well.

BE AWARE: I will drop a thread that began with an ask when I lose interest UNLESS you tell me you want to keep it and there is mutual interest/inspiration. I have so many small threads going that came from asks, that i will 99% likely NOT remember to say anything. If you want to turn something into a plotted thread, TELL ME

-NO GODMODDING OR METAGAMING

DO NOT PLAY MY CHARACTER FOR ME UNLESS YOU ASK ME. want my character to auto-block a hit? Ask me. Maybe they’re in a different mindset than you think and wouldn’t see it coming. I don’t care how small the action. ASK. ME. FIRST.

Also, in the same vein, don’t do a multitude of things without giving my character a chance to respond to any of them. Maybe they would have grabbed your character’s arm instead of just letting them storm off. Maybe they would have said something before your character made it across the room and out the door.

DO NOT try to force my muse to harm or otherwise take advantage of yours. Take a hint. If my muse is specifically avoiding hurting your muse, do NOT pigeonhole them into injuring your muse. Do not injure your muse because my muse refused to do so. Get your hurt kink BS somewhere else.

In addition, do not punish my character for inaction. If them not moving will lead to your character harming themselves, warn me first. Don't punish my muses for not knowing what to do by hurting your muse. 

-Don't Auto-Ship

If you want a pre-established relationship, whether it's romance, sex, family, or even friendship, talk to me first. If you assume my muse knows yours, that your muse lives with mine, anything like that, there is a 100% chance I will get uncomfortable and drop the thread, likely also unfollowing you.

IN ADDITION, Don't force ships. My character is not required to fall for yours, or even like them. If I feel you are forcing a ship, I will stop replying.

-BE ADVISED THAT THIS IS AN NSFW BLOG WITH POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING CONTENT

I am saying this again because it’s important. I am open to roleplaying with such content as torture, abuse, trauma, sexual assault, character death, etc. Please be advised of this, and use caution if any of these topics bother or trigger you. I do not Romanticize any of these things, but I have mature-themed threads where these things may occur.

IF ASKED, I will TRY to tag content that may be triggering, but do not always recognize potential triggers. I have ADHD and do not always tag before posting. Please be advised of the potential that something may not be tagged.

If you have specific triggers WARN ME. I will do my utmost to be respectful of your triggers but I cannot read minds.

-Contrary-wise, Respect My Triggers

I ask that rape, non-con, sexual assault, be tagged PLEASE. just because I can RP it doesn’t mean I am ok with being surprised by it on my dash.

-Give Me Something To Work With In Your Reply

I understand that there aren’t always multiple paragraphs worth of information to contribute in a scenario. I don’t always expect as much. But I cannot do one-line RP. Nothing against those who can. I won’t.

-DO NOT, DO NOT, DO NOT REBLOG MY MUSE CONTENT

If I have created something specifically for MY muses, such as an aesthetic/moodboard, or a discussion of their psyche, or even a drabble, DO NOT reblog without getting my permission first. If your muse or blog is tagged in the post, you are more than welcome to reblog it and share it. Otherwise, ask me first. Content I put my heart and soul into writing out for my muses is important to me, and is not for others to use with their work. 

[dictacontrion]

I noticed you ship 1d ships. Do you not think its invasive, inappropriate, and straight up creepy to write/read fanfiction about actual real life people?

I think it’s more complicated than that, anon.

First, the fourth wall is everything. I do think it’s invasive,inappropriate, and creepy to send people unsolicited information about how youimagine their romantic and sexual lives. That’s true when people reply to bandmembers’ social media posts with “hendall is real” or “larry is real” or “iwant you to nut on my face.” It’s true when journalists ask celebrities to readfic or react to fanworks about a ship they’re in. It’s true in non-celebrityinteractions, when you’re walking down the street or on an online dating siteand someone starts telling you what they imagine you doing sexually orromantically. In general, if you’re going to fantasize about someone you’re notinvolved with, it’s better for everyone involved if you don’t go telling themabout it.  In this day and age, and thiscontext, that means keeping it away from the celebrities involved – staying outof their mentions, being careful in their tags, not @ing them or replying tothem, or their families, or their friends. That’s the #1 thing: not asking fortheir participation and maintaining a firm boundary that lets them live theirlives unaffected by shipping.  

Second, there’s a difference betweenpeople and personas. Fans are varying degrees of good at recognizing this,which does make things more complicated. But there’s a difference between whocelebrities are and the public personas they present, and if/when we canmaintain that distinction I think we’re in okay shape. I think this comes outin fic more often than we maybe realize, too, that there are distinct versionsof the characters who reappear in accordance with different versions of theirpersonae. Shipping Harry Styles™ with someone isn’t quite the same thing asshipping Harry Styles with someone – especially if we respect the privacy ofthe people behind the personas and don’t go digging for information they don’tshare with us.

Third, people aren’t always shippingactual real life people. One thing I’ve found interesting in 1d fandom isthat many of the biggest fics are AUs. In the 5 most read larry fics on ao3,Louis is a corporate something, a driving instructor, a graphic designer, a unistudent, a fashion student, and a footballer; Harry is a sex worker, a highschool student, a baker, a uni student, and a model/student. There’s plenty offic out there where they’re in 1D, too, but often it’s about the fanon creationof this ship and these fictionalized characters, and the commonlanguage/tropes/ideas that have sprung up around them. In other words, it stopsbeing about the real people and starts being about the fandom.

Fourth, it’s part of something thathappens in communities. It’s rarely as formal as writing fic (usually; Idid know someone in school who wrote honest-to-goodness our English teacher/ourhistory teacher slash) but people do talk this way about people they know – whoyou might set up with whom, what you admire or dislike about someone’srelationship and what you think their future holds, how things will turn out ifthey make x or y decision, whether you think you saw this person looking atthat person that way, etc. Fandoms are communities. It’s not surprising thatthat kind of thinking happens in reference to celebrities, especiallybecause, in online communities, those are our shared reference points. I don’tthink that kind of talk is necessarily bad in real life, nor do I thinkit’s necessarily bad in fandom; again, it’s all about drawing boundaries sothat the people involved aren’t adversely affected.

What makes this all trickier is that fans aren’t always well-behaved, andpoorly behaved fans can and do engage in behavior that is invasive andinappropriate and boundary-violating and scary. That absolutely isn’t evenclose to being the case for all readers and writers of RPF, but I don’t thinkit’s something we can ignore in talking about this. I know my own relationshipto RPF has changed over time thanks to conversations with and guidance frompeople who have been here longer about how to do it without causing harm, and Ithink those are conversations we need to keep having.

I’d love to see fans respectfully hold each other to standards of respectfulbehavior, including warnings about respect for the fourth wall (I’m especiallypartial to the ones on the LJ comm for These Inconvenient Fireworks, which, if you can’t see them bascially say that they’ll take the fic down if it’s sent to or posted in tags for the boys, the band, or people connected to them), showingnew fans how rewarding it is to engage with each other instead of with celebrities, havingdiscussions about when it is and isn’t appropriate to @ or reply to a celebrity or people they know (hard no toanything involving content around shipping), focusing RPF fandoms’ attentiontowards intrafandom discussion and validation instead of seeking out celebrityattention, and emphasizing the importance of letting the real people behind thecelebrity personae live their lives without interference and without having tobe aware of shippers. These are places where, imo, fans of RPF could do somereally wonderful, powerful work, and I’d be thrilled to see that. But whetheror not that happens, tl;dr I’m notwilling to throw the baby out with the bathwater and say that RPF is wrongbecause some fans do gross things with it. If that’s the standard for whatmakes something wrong, a whole lot of things have got to go – the internet,cellphone cameras, wine, and so many other things. I’m much less interested in condemning broadswaths of fandom than in thinking about how fandom can do good, includingteaching each other how to be respectful in an increasingly online world.

[hisazuki]

Yona ch.137 spoilers

Akatsuki no Yona chapter 137 “To our allies” summary with pics

Please don’t repost/reuse my scans and translations without permission. Tumblr reblog is fine.

Do not use the raws or translations for scanlations and don’t upload them on other websites. If you need watermark-less images to make graphics, send me an ask (not on anon) and I’ll give you a link - you can only request 3 images per chapter.

The Wind tribe soldiers are observing Shin. They’ve noticed their army is gathering near the border: war will probably start soon. Han-Dae asks Tae-Woo if they’re going to obey Soo-Won’s orders. The general replies their tribe lives right next to Shin’s territory, so it’s a given they were called to fight. They must be ready for when the Sky tribe comes, that’s when the fighting will begin.

Han-Dae isn’t really happy about the war. Saki doesn’t understand why: didn’t he choose to go to Sei and fight the last time? Han-Dae says it’s because he had heard about Lili being captured (the rumor said she was weak, but he quickly changed his mind when he saw her ^^;). They both agree wars won by hurting people are difficult to come to terms with.

Back to Yona’s group. Ogi says he sent a messenger to the Wind tribe and that he should reach them in half a day. He asks Hak if “avoid battle” was really the message he wanted to convey. Hak says their priority is to buy time, even if Shin might start attacking in the meantime. Voldo suggests they hurry to the border as well.

Min-Soo rushes in and tells them about what he overheard: the Sky tribe will head for Shin in 3 days, and they have about 20000 men. Everyone is worried, the war will break out earlier than they expected.

Yona tells Hak to go to the Wind tribe first. She will try to slow down Soo-Won’s army. She plans to talk to a certain ally of theirs... Hak doesn’t want to let her go without him. Ogi offers to send a messenger instead, but Yona says she wants to meet that person herself, even if it might be difficult. Min-Soo is willing to accompany her.

Again, Hak says he won’t let her go alone. Argila will go with her, then. Yona tells Hak to go. The Wind tribe is waiting for him. She doesn’t want to have any regret, so she’ll do what she can on her own. She’s confident buying time and waiting for the right opportunity will allow them to find a way to end things peacefully between Kouka and Shin. Then they’ll all be able to go to the dragons, Yoon and Ao.

Hak says he understands and he’ll be waiting.

Yona realizes what she’s done, hides her face with her coat and leaves with Argila and Min-Soo. Hak is still stunned.

Hak: ...What was that?!

Voldo: She already left.

Hak: Hey, wait.

Voldo: I told you, she left.

Hak: Nononononononono it’s weird it’s weird it’s weird pukkyuu!

Ogi casually remarks things have turned pretty bittersweet in here. He’s having fun (and put Yona’s kanzashi in his hair :D).

Hak is upset. He can’t let himself be caught unawares by everything the princess does, but for her to do such a thing just like that... can’t she give him a break?

In the carriage Ogi lent them, Yona’s buried her face in her arms, blushing furiously. When Hak told her “I’ll be waiting” with his worried look, she felt she didn’t want to part with him. She talks to herself in her head: “Yona, there are things you should and should not do, you know?” “What are you trying to do, Yona?”... She has to forget and put it out of her mind. She must focus.

Han-Dae has read Ogi’s message. He wonders if it’s really from Hak. Tae-Woo recognizes Hak’s handwriting. The soldiers are confused: should they obey Soo-Won’s command to wait for the Sky tribe and fight with them, or listen to their former general? They turn to Tae-Woo for answers.

Tae-Woo reminds them they’re all from the Wind tribe, and from Fuuga. Kids from Fuuga have had something etched in their souls since very young. No matter how great the Heavens are, no matter how admirable the king is, there’s only one person standing at the top of the Wind tribe.

Tae-Woo heads to Shin army’s camp with his small group. Meanwhile, he tells his soldiers to have fun, they’re not going to fight. Han-Dae is worried: their leader told them not to fight, but is it really alright to go to Shin like that?

Apparently there was a 2nd page to Hak’s letter. It said to get along well with people from Shin. Problem: soldiers from Shin aren’t friendly at all! Han-Dae wants to give them some wine, but gets almost shot with an arrow.

Tae-Jun is in the castle’s courtyard, all muddy. Kyo-Ga scolds him for playing in the mud at his age. Tae-Jun says he’s been harvesting iza crops in a nearby village. Kyo-Ga is still angry: what good will it do him to learn agriculture? He’s his assistant now, can’t he see how much effort Kyo-Ga put into learning various things, obeying Soo-Won and trying to rebuild the Fire tribe?

Huk-Chi arrives and tells Tae-Jun he has guests waiting for him. Tae-Jun runs away from his brother and later thanks Huk-Chi for coming up with this lie to save him. But his aide tells him he really have guests, and they’re envoys from Hiryuu castle. Tae-Jun freaks out: did he do something to anger the king?

The first person he sees is Argila, a scary-looking guy who looks like he’s a seasoned warrior. Then 2 hooded figures... Min-Soo asks Huk-Chi to leave the room. Tae-Jun loses it: they’re here to kill him, right? Oh no, he has been traumatized by mean-looking warriors in the past! And he feels like he’s become a better person lately, but that doesn’t prevent him from still doing bad-ish things from time to time!

Voice: Tae-Jun...

Hisa’s thoughts on the chapter: 

Well well, it was high time we saw Yona pulling strings to achieve what she wants without relying on the dragons. Not only has she decided to use her influence to stop the war, she’s also “decided” to move forward on a more personal level (although her kiss with Hak was more of a spur-of-the-moment thing).

There are several things to discuss in this chapter, so I’ll just address the topics as they appeared.

1) Soo-Won. He’s still proceeding with his war plans, as he told Yona in the previous chapter. However, there might be something suspicious in the place he’s chosen to discuss this topic with Kye-Sook. It's an open room with no doors, and looks like a storage area. Obviously that’s where Min-Soo was headed, as he was pictured carrying books. No doors means Soo-Won didn’t care about being overheard and his war plans aren’t a big secret, or he purposefully brought Kye-Sook here knowing Min-Soo would be around to hear them. Was it his intention to have Min-Soo report back to Yona all along?

2) Min-Soo. What are you doing, Min-Soo? I can’t understand you. Rather, I don’t like this sort of redemption arc so late in the game. Kusanagi dumped his backstory on us last chapter, explaining why he was loyal to Soo-Won while still inclined to help Yona. Why is it now okay to defy SW’s orders even though he couldn’t a few months (?) ago when the king saved his life? Did something happen to his mother, has he found other powerful allies, or does he just not care anymore? I’m confused -_-; He’s like a convenient newfound ally that I want to trust but can’t.

3) Hak and the kiss. Yona asks Hak to go to the Wind tribe. I don’t really see what he can achieve over there that he couldn’t do via Ogi’s messengers. They know Soo-Won will arrive in 3 days, it feels like he only goes there to confront him and take the blame all on himself for the Wind tribe’s treason (which might be an admirable thing, but what can he hope to do against 20000 soldiers?). That’s where the kiss comes in. As I said when I first read the chapter, to me it was a non-event. Not because it doesn’t mean anything for Yona and Hak, but because the chapter has been constructed such as to place that kiss in the middle of the chapter, and not at the end like you’d expect for a meaningful, heartwarming confession. Just as Hak said, he mustn’t let himself be overwhelmed by what the princess does. That kiss might’ve been a pleasant surprise, but Hak didn’t even question it (like, does it mean she likes me? was it just a parting kiss? etc). It wasn’t romantic, and there were onlookers. Hak and Yona didn’t really get to enjoy it - it’s not the usual “I love you” shoujo kiss. Which brings me to point 4).

4) The Wind tribe. What the hell was that about Hak being their god and standing at the top of everything? Sure he’s powerful and played with the kids and probably attracted their loyalty, but... how blind and lovestruck can they be with Hak? From what we know, when Hak was young Mundok was the true leader of the Wind tribe, and Hak was the nice big brother everyone could annoy and train with even if he was reluctant, and he didn’t like going to the castle to perform his duties (partly because of Yona). He became their general at a young age, yet it was during King Il’s reign: during his time as a general, did he get to lead soldiers to battle or make strategies or anything that would justify being elevated to god-like status among the Wind tribe? Is Mundok such a doting grandfather that he’d let everyone worship Hak like it’s no big deal?

I fear this kind of buildup is a bad omen for what’s to come. The goodbye kiss + the Wind tribe saying they’ll blindly follow Hak to the ends of the Earth? This definitely smells like a bad-things-ahead/death flag. Only I don’t expect Hak will die, but I suspect something might happen to Tae-Woo or Han-Dae. Idk, the kiss upset me, and maybe that’s why I’m seeing bad vibes in the Wind tribe’s loyalty.

5) Tae-Jun. He’s back! And somehow he made up with his brother, seeing as he is his assistant/lieutenant now. I can’t wait to see how he’ll react to what Yona tells him. I was expecting Kyo-Ga to still be studying at Hiryuu castle, because he clearly will be an obstacle to defying Soo-Won’s orders. Maybe that’s where Min-Soo will come in handy, if he can lie and say he’s here as the king’s representative.

Next chapter will be titled disturbance/perturbation. I’m hoping we’ll get to see a bit of Kouren’s side of the story, but it will likely be the continuation of Yona’s talk with Tae-Jun and the confrontation between Soo-Won and the Wind tribe.