#this feels unfinished but I have no idea where I'm going with this so I guess I'll just add on later

[davey-in-a-minivan]

Isabel Lovelace My Absolute Beloved

Lovelace is one of my favorite examples of one of my favorite kinds of characters, which is: woman who the world is trying so hard to kill and emerges beat up and spitting out teeth and still going.

(Relatedly, Eva Olivia Moreno is one of the few White Vault characters I really loved and it's on the strength of the joy I felt when i realized that not only had Eva NOT died when a rockslide separated her from the team, but instead dragged herself three days over the mountains, alone, covered in mud and blood and bruises, WITH ALL THE TEAM'S DATA DRIVES, to let the world know what was going on and demand rescue for the others. LOVE HER. Alessandra "Cockroach" Strong of the Penumbra Podcast ALSO falls into this category and I would've loved to see more of her)

Interestingly, I think Lovelace plays a similar role in-universe for Eiffel and Minkowski, in that they first encounter her as a 'character' in old audio logs whose survival they are rooting for at a remove -- when Eiffel and Minkowski listen to her logs but it's unclear whether she made it off the station, Eiffel shushes Minkowski's skepticism and says "let me have my badass space commando chick!!" In the absence of conclusive evidence he clings to the idea that she survived, for what i suspect are two reasons: (1) it means it's possible to survive and gives him and Minkowski a sliver of hope, and (2) it's not fair for her to die after trying so hard to save herself and her crew, and if she survived he can believe that there's some fairness in the universe.

After Kepler shoots Lovelace, Minkowski tells an imagined Lovelace how badly she wanted to get Lovelace home because she wanted to believe that she could go home, which feels like an echo of Eiffel's earlier sentiment--obviously by now Minkowski knows and cares about Lovelace as a person, but she's also a symbol of the ultimate survivor, who will do whatever it takes to get home. If Lovelace, who fought harder and longer, with more skill and fewer limits than Minkowski finds herself capable of, and still didn't survive, what chance is there for Minkowski and her crew?

WHICH MAKES IT SO FUCKING SATISFYING WHEN LOVELACE LIVES AGAIN.

I need you all to know--Lovelace was "dead" for, what, an episode??--in that time my then-roommate and I put up a SHRINE to her memory. She was too cool and tragic and extreme and funny and hot to die!!!

I'm very glad the universe and Gabriel Urbina agreed.

It's not only satisfying because I'm obsessed with her and wanted her back (which I admit freely). It's a riveting development in the story of the unkillable Captain Lovelace where we finally see that she CAN'T be killed because she's already dead. Functionally she's a ghost in the story, haunting the Hephaestus until she finishes her unfinished business, and there's a delightful sheen of destiny to her arc where I was like oh fuck they've already done their worst to her and she's still going. She's going to win this. I don't know what it'll cost her, this could still be a tragedy, but she's GOING to succeed.

What does this mean for the rest of the original crew looking to her as a symbol? Eiffel, Minkowski and Hera do survive, like Lovelace. It is possible. But it costs them a lot. Weeks after Lovelace dies, resurrects, and has the day-ruining revelation that she's actually the alien clone of the dead woman she thought she was haha, she talks about the discomforting effort she makes to be the real Lovelace, not the person that Goddard turned her into. I think once they return to Earth the rest of the crew will struggle in similar ways. Minkowski need to believe that Lovelace could come home, and she did. But none of them could be the same as they were before.

Now, obviously the extremes Lovelace had to go to in pursuit of survival and justice were difficult and upsetting for her. But they were also hot!! SO let's wrap this up with some of the most iconic Lovelace moments according to me:

1. The "run and hide" monologue Eiffel and Minkowski find - HOT. sorry i know this comes on the heels of her describing the harrowing tragedy of her crew members' deaths but like

that's hot!!! go girl, kill em all!!!

2. THE DEAD MAN'S SWITCH. she said im going big AND going home, through the power of insane resourcefulness and this nuclear bomb i made

3. "variations on a theme" is suuuch a good minisode

4. disabling the airlock during the clone jacobi situation without telling anyone

5. NAPALM

6a. broadly, the hostage situation during the coup, where she goads kepler into focusing on her instead of eiffel

6b. SPECIFICALLY the part of the hostage situation where she gets the show's one "fuck"

7. alien possession lovelace!!!! i know it wasn't quite her melting kepler's hand off but god it's a fun scene

8. time loop lovelace. i love a good time loop and the contrast between her yelling and goading and shooting things in the last argument but also being, like, pretty chill and pragmatic about it--this is just her method of causing enough trouble to break the loop--is fun

9. hera's and her intersecting journeys re: what it means to be a person

10. distracting cutter so minkowski can stab him with the harpoon!!!!!!

in conclusion: WHAT A CHARACTER

[youareinacomawakeup]

Sora and Riku are SO...

Soriku is an emotion all its own for me. I can't describe it. Like shipping something is a feeling, yeah? Like it's dopamine, it's serotonin, it's "I like this. Looking at them together makes me feel the Good Feeling."

But I can't describe the way Sora and Riku are...unique to that for me. It's this unique concoction of brain chemicals I can't put a name to. Nothing else feels like them. When they're in my brain, when they curl up and make a home there, it's just...completely indescribable. It just... I don't know, guys, I don't KNOW.

It's like-- Okay, as a writer, inspiration is also a unique emotion. It's not just "oh i had an idea" it's just this sudden flooding of "Oh, I can do anything." A passion, but different.

Soriku is also a unique emotion, something I struggle to articulate. It's like trying to describe the flavor of something in a way that other people can taste it in their mouths just by hearing it.

It's secondhand love, it's home, it's adoration, it's safety, and I know how fucking insane this is coming across, like true obsession, but even saying "I'm addicted, it's a drug," seems too goddamn shallow for what this feeling is. It's not enough.

It's just...them.

[laugtherhyena]

I need to properly develop Ghost girl I need to properly develop Ghost girl I need to properly develop Ghost girl I need-

[jackdaw-and-hattrick]

The Pull

It is essential that, when dealing with Danny, you remember Gravity is an incidental, not a constant. His effect isn't measurable because his pull only affects what he manipulates directly.

See, gravity loves Danny, lifting him up in its arms and pulling whatever he wants down into his orbit. It gathers him close to lift whatever it needs to move or spreads him thin to pass through walls. It creates dips where light collects in his hair and gloves till they shine like stars or runs away to leave an inky void in the black of his suit. There is a sense of depth in his pupils as if you might fall in and never break free if you ever got too close, a dateline across his cornea you can’t see past. Sometimes he becomes so thin that light forgets him entirely.

Danny’s effect isn't limited to himself; he can pull you into his orbit; let you in on his altered laws of physics. This is, of course, immensely useful. The problem is that most people are not meant for the kind of pressure he creates, and the only way to avoid the damage caused by instant depressurization is for him to lend some ectoplasm. Over time this can lead to some... Consequences. People become a little dead if they use his powers too many times. Usually, the effects are minor; a new eye flash or teeth that are just a bit too sharp. In severe cases, direct exposure can lead to illnesses like ecto-acne or the starts or a core. Within Amnety, these effects are essentially nonissues since everyone already has such high levels of contamination. Still, he tries to minimize his use of these powers on humans.

Concrete objects are the easiest to manipulate; bats and lead piping answer his pull much easier than air or water. He has learned, however, that the gravitational manipulation of gases can be, well, interesting. By reducing the temperature and increasing the pressure, he can create some truly exception bombs, either by releasing control and allowing the air to explode outward or by continuing the increase, leading to explosive decompression of the surrounding air.

[windor-truffle]

*chants in increasing volume* ghost AU ghost AU GHOST AU GHOST AU

[whysamwhy123]

So, I started writing a dumb crackfic about a bunch of my blorbos attempting to hit on my newest blorbo because it was funny in my head buuuuut turns out I'm not funny enough to bring it to life so I probably ain't gonna finish it. But I don't wanna feel like I completely wasted my time, so I'm just gonna drop the unfinished thing here because I can't seem to make myself continue it. It's a shame because I feel like it would have gotten a little better/funnier after I got the set-up out of the way, I had plans for where this would go, but alas, my brain has failed me yet again. And whatever, this most likely appeals to absolutely no one anyway, so here it is, read at your own risk because it sucks!

Jack was minding his own business before the show, wandering the halls while dicking around his phone, when he spotted Hook, just standing there.

‘’Hey man, what’s up?’’ he said, leaning against the nearest wall, still looking at his phone.

When no response came, Jack looked up. Hook was still as a statue, his eyes focused forward. Did he not hear him?

‘’Hello? Hook?’’

Jack got closer and slowly turned his head in the direction Hook was staring. ‘’What are you looki - whoa!’’

Jack almost dropped his phone when he first caught a glimpse of her. No wonder Hook was staring - she had to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever soon. She was fucking gorgeous. The kind of woman that’s so beautiful it feels like she shouldn’t be allowed to exist. Or that you shouldn’t be allowed to look at her, how dare you think yourself worthy! But she was real and she was right there all the way over on the other side of the hallway. She seemed to be checking how she looked in her phone’s camera, adjusting her long blonde hair and examining her makeup as though it wasn’t already perfect. She was perfect. She was wearing this all red ensemble that showed off just how killer her body was. And she was tall too. Long legs.

Jack’s mouth was agape. He knew it wasn’t polite to stare but how could he not?

‘’Jack, buddy,’’ Hook said, not taking his eyes off the beauty across the hall. ‘’I’ve found my next conquest.’’

Jack couldn’t take his eyes off her either. Who could blame them? ‘’Who is that?’’

Hook somehow managed to tear his eyes away from the vision they’ve been blessed to look upon and turned his head to Jack instead. ‘’My next conquest. Weren’t you listening?’’

Jack forced himself to look away - any longer and he was about to start drooling. ‘’No, who is she? What’s her name? I’ve gotta know.’’

‘’You seriously don’t know who she is?’’

The two men whirled around to find Daniel Garcia right next to them.

‘’How long have you been there?’’ Hook asked.

Daniel waved him off, a whatever gesture and then nodded his head in the direction of the unbelievably gorgeous woman. ‘’That’s Mariah May!’’

Hook and Jack blinked at him.

‘’From Stardom?’’

More blinking.

‘’Club Venus? Rose Gold?’’

‘’You’re just saying words at us, man,’’ Hook said.

Daniel gave them a judgemental look. ‘’You guys don’t watch Stardom? For real? Do you not watch any joshi wrestling at all?’’

Jack scratched the back of his neck. Hook gave a half-hearted shrug.

Daniel shook his head. ‘’What’s wrong with you guys? Y’all got no taste. Where else do you find spots to steal?’’

‘’My dad,’’ Hook said.

At the same time, Jack said, ‘’Shawn Michaels, I guess?’’

Daniel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘’I’m surrounded by uncultured swines. Look, she was one of the hottest - literally - free agents in the business. She just signed here, she’s debuting tonight.’’

‘’She’s a wrestler?’’ Hook said. ‘’Damn. Would have been easier if she was a rat.’’

‘’She could be,’’ Daniel said. ‘’You can be a wrestler and a rat at the same time.’’

Hook narrowed his eyes at Daniel. ‘’You would know.’’

Daniel smiled back, completely oblivious. ‘’Yeah, I mean, look at Adam Cole. Or Edge. Or CM Pu -’’ He stopped himself and his eyes went wide in Jack’s direction. A very uncomfortable silence fell over the three of them, one that seemed to last precisely one million years. ‘’...other examples…’’

‘’Alright, enough standing around,’’ Hook said finally. He took his hands out of his hoodie pocket and cracked his knuckles. ‘’I’m going in.’’

Two hands, one from Daniel and one from Jack, shot out and grabbed his hoodie, preventing him from taking a step.

‘’No way,’’ Daniel said.

‘’Nuh uh,’’ Jack added.

Hook glared at the two. ‘’I saw her first.’’

Daniel was aghast. ‘’No, I saw her first! You didn’t know who she was until fifteen seconds ago!’’

‘’That doesn’t count,’’ Hook argued. ‘’I saw her first in the building, so I get first dibs.’’

‘’That’s not fair!’’ Jack whined.

Daniel said, ‘’You don’t understand, man - I’ve been crazy about this girl ever since I first saw her on Stardom World. I’ve been waiting for this moment for months - that could be the love of my life right there!’’

‘’Yeah, well, I wanna fuck her,’’ Hook said, as though that was the most airtight, well-reasoned counterpoint imaginable. ‘’You can fanboy over her all you want after I’m done with her.’’

‘’Hell no! I don’t want your sloppy seconds!’’

‘’If ‘the love of your life’ is sloppy seconds, what does that say about you, huh?’’

Hook and Daniel had been gradually inching closer to each other with each response. They both looked mad, like they were one second away from throwing punches. Jack couldn’t let that happen. Not after last time…

He put a hand on each man’s shoulder and created some distance between them. ‘’Guys, guys, calm down! We don’t need to fight.’’

Clearer heads seemed to prevail, Hook and Daniel shared a nod and then their body language changed, less guarded.

‘’Besides, you’re both wrong,’’ Jack continued. ‘’I should get to approach her first.’’

Hook and Daniel, now suddenly allies, raised an eyebrow each at Jack. ‘’Why?’’ they both asked at the same time.

‘’Because…’’ Jack started. His mind drew a blank. ‘’...I…want to…’’

Now it was Jack’s turn to be blinked at. He wracked his brain - he couldn’t let this opportunity slip away, not when the girl in question was that hot.

‘’Okay, here’s why it should be me! Or, I guess, here’s why it shouldn’t be either of you!’’ He pointed at Daniel. ‘’You hit on girls all the time, while I don’t. So much. So it’s only fair that I got a shot first because, you know, it’s a special occasion.’’ Daniel looked incredulous and opened his mouth to respond but Jack cut him off by pointing at Hook and continuing. ‘’And you! Aren’t you already seeing someone?’’

‘’Uh, no? The fuck you talking about?’’ Hook asked, looking very annoyed at the mere suggestion.

‘’What about that girl you hook up with all the time? The one who’s always texting you? Carly something?’’

Hook rolled his eyes. ‘’Alright, look - technically, I never told Carly we were exclusive. I just…told her a bunch of other stuff and she kinda assumed and I didn’t correct her because I didn’t wanna seem like an asshole. But just because she lets me hit on the regular doesn’t mean I owe her anything - she should understand that. So how is it my fault if she gets mad about something like this?’’

Jack furrowed his brow at his best friend. ‘’You…you don’t seriously think that, right? That’s gross!’’

‘’Nah, that makes perfect sense,’’ Daniel said. ‘’Flawless logic. She’s the one in the wrong, not you.’’

He and Hook shared a quick fistbump. Fuckboy solidarity.

Jack sighed deeply. ‘’See? This is why I should get to shoot my shot first - I won’t treat like her dirt like you two assholes!’’

Daniel looked offended. ‘’I’ll have you know, I’ll treat her like a queen!’’

Hook nodded. ‘’Yeah, same. Unless she doesn’t want me to, you know?’’

Fistbumps all around.

‘’There’s gotta be a way we can decide, fairly, who gets to go first,’’ Jack said. ‘’Some way we can settle this like mature adults. Like men.’’

The three men took a long moment to ponder their predicament and search for an appropriate solution.

Hook glanced down at his fist. ‘’Rock, paper, scissors?’’

‘’Yes,’’ Jack said, emphatically.

Daniel rubbed his hands together. ‘’Alright, how we doing this? Elimination style or triple threat rules?’’

Jack decided to defer to Hook; it was his idea after all.

Hook considered it for a moment. ‘’The usual 3-way match rules. First to score a fall wins.’’

The three of them formed a triangle and each of them placed a fist onto their other palm, ready and waiting. After silently confirming they were all ready through a series of shared nods, Jack took it upon himself to count them down.

‘’Okay, here we go! Rock, paper, scissors, sh -’’

Before he could finish, Jack was shoved back by Daniel, his back colliding with the wall. Daniel then grabbed Hook’s hand, still balled into a fist, and promptly covered it with his own palm, preventing Hook from changing his option and signalling paper-beats-rock.

‘’I win!’’ he announced proudly.

Hook ripped his hand away. ‘’Like hell you do!’’

‘’The fuck was that?!’’ Jack demanded, rubbing his back where it was now sore. ‘’That wasn’t a win, you cheated!’’

Daniel smiled smugly. ‘’No, I didn’t. We said triple threat rules - that means it’s No DQ.’’

A lengthy discussion ensued about what exactly constitutes a disqualification in a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors, hollowed by a side tangent about why there aren't disqualifications in a triple threat match. Upon realising that they weren’t going anywhere and were just wasting time, they all agreed to play by elimination rules. Hook was the first fall, picking paper while Jack and Daniel went with scissors. And in the finals, Jack’s paper bested Daniel’s rock. How poetic.

‘’Yes!’’ Jack exclaimed triumphantly. He took a great deal of satisfaction in Hook and Daniel’s sour, dejected expressions.

Jack glanced back over to confirm that Mariah was a) still there and b) hadn’t overheard any of that, which turned out to be true on both counts. She was in the exact same spot as before, still admiring herself in her phone’s camera. Jack could relate.

Jack took a few deep breaths to psyche himself up. ‘’Okay, Jack, you got this. You got this! I know exactly what’ll work here!’’

Hook groaned. ‘’You’re not seriously gonna try that again, are you?’’

‘’I told you, it totally works!’’ Jack said, defiant. ‘’Sometimes.’’

‘’What’s he talking about?’’ Daniel asked.

Hook sighed. ‘’He has this thing he does to try and pick up girls. It’s stupid - he just stands around looking sad and supposedly, a girl will eventually come up to him and ask him what’s wrong.’’

‘’It. Works. Sometimes,’’ Jack insisted.

Daniel considered that. ‘’Huh. Yeah, I can see it. One time, there was this girl who told me I had ‘sad eyes’ and it was half the reason she fucked me. So you might be onto something.’’

With his confidence boosted, Jack took another breath to calm his nerves and headed down the hallway to his target. He willed himself to stay calm, but he grew more nervous with each footstep. The closer he got, the better he could see her. She was even more stunning up close.

When he was near enough, he put on his game face. Which was to say, he put on his best sad puppy dog eyes and leaned against the wall, dejected.

His head was bowed, but he could see Mariah out of the corner of his eye. Unfortunately, she was still distracted by her own reflection. Jack didn’t blame her, but he really needed her to look his way. 

He let out a loud sigh. Nothing. So he sighed louder. Still nothing. The third sigh was so loud and exaggerated, it was almost comical. But it was the one that got the job done. Mariah finally looked up from her phone and found him there. There was a flash of concern on her face and Jack knew his diabolical plan was working.

‘’Excuse me, are you alright? You look really sad!’’

Whoa, she has an English accent? Jack wasn’t expecting that. It took him a couple of seconds to process and actually respond.

‘’Oh, it’s nothing, really. Just one thing after another today, you know?’’

Jack knows this is the part where she asks more questions about why he’s so sad and tries to cheer him up.

Mariah just hummed. ‘’Okay,’’ she said, and then turned her attention back to her phone.

Uh oh. It’s not going according to plan! Jack’s brain scrambled for what to do next. He pushed himself away from the wall and closer to her.

‘’Uh, hey, wait! Uh, I’m Jack!’’ he said, offering his hand out.

She eyed his hand curiously and then reluctantly shook it. Goddammit, why did he try to shake her hand? That’s not romantic, that’s…business-y?

‘’Nice to meet you, I guess,’’ she said. ‘’I’m Mariah May.’’

‘’Yeah, I know who you are,’’ Jack said. He wracked his brain for what it was Daniel said about her back there. ‘’I saw you wrestle in, uh…Venus World?’’

[sumiresou]

Izuku's Clingy-ness

Izuku Midoriya x girlfriend/fem! Reader

word count: 643 (very short)

warning: clingy!boyfriend izuku, post-war arc, not-canon compliant (i tried, lord help me.), izuku missing his gf :(, someone get this man his gf back!!, sassy midoriya genes, possibly ooc for both kaminari and bakugo but oh well. NOT FULLY EDITED but it's like 4am... so...

a/n: I was reading some of @gglitch1dd 's dilf!izuku series, and i KNOWW I'm very late to the Izuku love but this fanfic idea is currently wrangling me like a bull... so... here! making this in-between 3 unfinished works and one series ideas!!! nice, author, nice.

beta read by my beautiful and unnerving sister.

Sometimes, It seemed unnerving how Izuku was so intensely obsessed with you. Izuku was just glad it wasn't in a bad way, despite how sometimes he would convince himself that he was such a bad person after the events of the Paranormal Liberation War. You were always there to squash those terrible thoughts that scattered and dug their way into his head, and convince him that what he had done was probably one of the best options left for Tomura Shigaraki.

He missed you today. You weren't in class the entirety of the school day, and he had gotten worried that you slept in; Until he saw your text message about having to suddenly go babysit your niece today due to an emergency involving the sitter not showing up. Everyone who even looked at Izuku's face could see it, how he looked like a kicked puppy who had just gotten every insult known thrown at him.

"Dude, you good? Did Y/N break up with you or something?" Kaminari had walked over, crouching down to rest his arms on Izuku's desk, long after class had ended. He had a slightly worried expression on his face, eyebrows furrowed, making Izuku feel slightly bad at making his friend worry about him. The green haired boy huffed, pouting as he stared down at the matching bracelets he had been fiddling with for most of class when he noticed Y/N's absence. Bakugo chimed in after Kaminari, abrasive as ever. Where did he even come from?

"Get a grip, Izuku. Your girlfriend is coming back tomorrow."

Izuku had at that moment, felt a little dumb. Oh. Oh! He had almost forgot, yeah you were coming back tomorrow. Wait... How did Bakugo know that? Right on cue, did Bakugo squash his thoughts.

"Y/N and I are friends too, calm down. Don't stare at me like that. You look like an offended goose." Bakugo sneered at him, his arms crossing over his chest. Kaminari looked over at Bakugo, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

"Woah! Dude, a little nicer maybe?"

Izuku rolled his eyes, giving his best friend an 'are you fucking kidding me' look. "You act worse when Kirishima is going to the bathroom, shut it." Izuku pouted and pointed at the spikey blond man in front of him.

Bakugo huffed and rolled his eyes, despite his hypocrisy in the situation. The blond was honestly so tired of Izuku moping around in class, and now outside too?

Izuku looked down at his phone, laying on the desk between his hands that kept fiddling with eachother. "Maybe I should call her."

Bakugo's eyebrow twitched. Maybe he should have bullied Izuku more. (not actually, but still.)

Kaminari was shocked at Izuku, no way Izuku was that clingy. "Yo! You should go and relax, go shopping with Todoroki and Bakugo! Todoroki has his dad's card for the day too! Do something instead of moping around all day! C'mon dude!" Maybe he wasn't being helpful, or maybe it was his excruciating single-ness.

Izuku groaned loudly in frustration, he just wanted his girlfriend dammit! Not to be basically kidnapped by his two friends to stop rotting over Y/N being gone for one day. "I don't wanna go out hanging out with everyone else, can't you guys just let me mope over my girlfriend being gone!?" He looked up at the ceiling, leaning back in his chair, hand clutching his hair.

"Not when you make it our problem! Get up! You're going shopping with Todoroki and Bakugo! Shoo! Out!" Kaminari exclaimed.

At the end of the day, he still couldn't help sending you a few 'I love you's and 'Facetime?'. He just missed you too much. When you came back, he was waiting on the UA steps, anxiously tapping his foot, and waiting for you like you always did.

"Day infinitely better."

want to support a struggling author? Leave a like and maybe a nice comment if you feel like it!

drops this and hides.

[hermetiqa]

When will you meet your future spouse?

Reminder: it doesn't matter if you saw this reading a day or a week or a month or a year after posting this. My readings are timeless. You'll see this when you're meant to see this and receive your message.

Close your eyes and take a deep breath before picking a pile. If you feel drawn to more than one pile, it's alright, you may take the piles that you're drawn to. What's important is to take it how it resonates and leave what doesn't.

PAID READINGS | TIP JAR | FEEDBACK

MASTERLIST | PLEASE HELP IF YOU CAN

NOTE: Please feel free to give me a feedback on my asks about the reading! I would highly appreciate it and it'll be a huge help for me to improve as a reader.

Pile 1

Hello, Pile 1! I feel like you'll meet your future spouse when you prefer to be alone and be away from all the people you already know. You might think of going to some camp alone and when you're getting together in the camp, you might have come up with the idea of using a different name when you introduce yourself because you intend not to share who you truly are. You might think of the names Ella, Lily, Alisha, Cindy, Helena. The spelling of the names doesn't matter, any alternative spellings or name variations could be in your mind too. You might even use an odd name, like a name known to be masculine such as Alex and George. There's a TikToker who keeps popping in my head right now, the one who has a Chloe Paddington bags and named her bags. You might have had this camp and name idea from her. I can see that your future spouse might be the one who would approach you first and start the conversation, and they really have a strong masculine energy here while you're the feminine one. I'm also getting an intuitive energy from you and you might have a feeling that you feel like you've known each other for a long time, even if it was really your first time meeting each other. You might be a fire sign and they could be a water sign, but you're quite compatible. It seems like you could have each other's sun in one's moon and/or ascendant.

Signs: dark/black hair, curly hair, brown eyes, dark/light academia fashion style, white loose button-down shirt, latino/a looks, speaks spanish and italian, campfire, marshmallows, trees, beach, seashore, lowtide, collecting seashells

Pile 2

Hello, Pile 2! As for you, I'm seeing a picnic that involves books and paintings. 01:01 on the clock right now. You might think of reading a book or doing a painting, specifically watercolor or oil painting, in the afternoon. You might do this alone in a park or somewhere that has a pond. To be more detailed, I'm getting that you might read a book in a park and would prefer to paint some place that has a pond with koi fish or water lilies so you can paint them. I'm getting the seasons spring and summer too. You could be an introvert and you often go to your comfort places to breathe and rewind. And your future spouse would notice you visiting the same place oftentimes. They could observe you for a while before approaching you as well. And I feel like they might ask you if they could join you to read a book or paint something. You might even exchange books and paintings. You might annotate each other's books and paint each other's paintings (you know the thing where you both paint something on your canvas and you exchange each other's unfinished paintings and add something, and so on).

Signs: dark/brunette hair, curly hair, blue eyes, strong jawline, downtown/retro fashion, long white skirts, baggy shirts, leather bag, doc martens, the secret history, if we were villains, ophelia, the lumineers, (curtain) bangs, wavy hair, booktok

Pile 3

Hello, Pile 3! I feel like you'll meet yours when you're doing some charity event or donating something. It could be related to dogs and/or cats, so you could be pet lovers. This might be an all-of-a-sudden decision because the charity/donation wasn't planned that much but I'm getting that you might meet there. You might organize the charity or help them organize and they'll help too, and you might do most of the work together. I'm also getting that this is when you're trying to become a better person and finally end your toxic habits. I feel like you have feminine energy but to other people, you show your masculine energy. You might think of getting something to eat together at lunch when you work together after a charity event, and this is when you'll start to know each other. You'll be interested in each other's interests and might think that you're compatible, and might suit each other. You'll be really fond of each other for a while which will lead you to some dates and hanging out a lot. I feel like you'll both reciprocate each other's wants and needs in this connection, especially with all the adjustments at first, but you'll be close friends even while you're dating, you might be comfortable to be around each other as if you're best friends.

Signs: blonde, blue/green eyes, wavy hair, daisies/flowers on hair, blue shorts, white and blue shirt, band shirts, casual fashion, flexible, gymnastics and ballet (during childhood), waffles, hotdogs, pizzas, medium hair length, straight hair, brown hair highlights, summer

[luulapants]

What a safe space for concrit looks like and why the comments section will never be that

I'm in an IRL group for songwriters who want help developing and polishing their work. It's an incredible space, very effective, and no one ever leaves feeling bad about their songs. I'm going to share a few of the things that work really well about this group and compare those to online environments, particularly comment sections:

Group settings create accountability. If someone is a dick, it has real social consequences, not just from the person being critiqued but from everyone in the room who saw it happen. Online spaces, while very public, are paradoxically intimate. It's unlikely that third parties will scour comments on someone else's work, and if they do - what are the consequences? The critic probably doesn't know them.

We know our critics. We know the critic's level of expertise in different areas, if they have different styles and preferences from ours, and can weight their opinions accordingly. The opinion of a random stranger online cannot be weighed or evaluated and is therefore worthless.

We know our performers. We know the proficiency of the person we're critiquing, if they're new or shy or young, if they're branching into a type of music they're not familiar with. We adjust the type of feedback we give based on who's receiving it. Typically, commenters online have no idea if they're critiquing a professional artist or a literal child just starting out.

Everyone needs to bring something to group. If you don't have a song (or even part of a song) to share, you can't come this week. This puts everyone on equal footing: we're all being vulnerable, we're all going through critique today. It's easy to hand out judgments when you have nothing at stake, but you're a lot more careful handling someone's work when you know they'll be handling yours, too. Commenters online have nothing at stake, no reciprocal vulnerability, which creates an unfair power dynamic.

"What kind of feedback do you want?" We ask this question before every performance. People are able to draw specific boundaries, point out areas where they're confused or conflicted ("This chord sounds wrong to me but I'm not sure what to use.") and areas that are too sensitive for critique ("This is a personal story, so I don't want to change the narrative.") Going in blind online, you have no idea if you're addressing a personal landmine or a deliberate creative choice.

Only bring things that are unfinished and open to change. The purpose of bringing a song to group is to get edits and suggestions. The purpose of posting your work online is to share it and have it be enjoyed by others. You should assume that, by the time someone is posting something on their Tumblr or AO3 etc., that it is a finished product no longer open for changes.

[dxrksong]

Just a funny what if

The classic batfam being used to summon the ghost king scenario. Danny claws his way out of the circle and tries to intimidate everyone

Danny: WHO DARES-JOHNNY13?! Is THIS Where you've been this whole time?!

Jason: unfortunately.

Danny: wait, are you alive?!

Jason: unfortunately.

Danny: is that your family???

Jason: UNFORTUNATELY

[Later]

Jason: kid, wait up!

Danny: ?? What's up?

Jason: take me with you, PLEASE! I can't deal with their constant drama!!

Danny: John-JASON, I really don't think That's a good idea! With your family being overprotective as it is, your.....weird biology of being essentially a halfa ZOMBIE. I'm honestly concerned about what would happen if you went back into the zone.

Jason: kid please! There's hardly any ambient ectoplasm here that ISN'T tainted to high hell! Look, you can get a doctor or something if it'll make you feel better but I REALLY need to go back!!!!

Danny: *sighs* fine fine! I'll get frostbite. Just wait here for a little bit!

Jason: YES!!! THANK YOU KID!!! YOURE A LIFESAVER!!!!

Danny: uh huh, just don't die again. Oh, and btw, you might wanna start running now.

Jason: huh? Why?

The batfam, misunderstanding that entire conversation and gearing up to smother and protect Jason at all cost:

The Bike who drove itself home the moment Danny appeared because it knew Jason was gonna be fine:

---------

Frostbite isn't one for swearing

For one he's more than often surrounded by younglings and the other is to maintain the image of his tribe. For if he were to start swearing like a sailor, the rest of the yeti tribe will be sure to follow. And of course it'd be nearly impossible to reverse such a thing.

So when he met with the great one's distressed friend, all he could do was freeze as he desperately tried to pick his words VERY carefully.

What....

What the FUCK was he LOOKING at?!

This.....this poor thing is SERIOUSLY ILL!!

Oh-wait! The great one was saying something, he completely tuned him out!

FB: Great one, we MUST get him to the infirmary IMMEDIATELY!!

Danny: huh? Why? Is it really that bad- *Frostbite grabs Jason and runs back into the zone* -and wow he didn't even wait, this must be serious.

------

Frostbite......has no words.....

This......shouldn't be possible....

And yet for some reason it is....

FB: You have a parasite.

Jason: huh?? Like a virus?

FB: yes.....Which shouldn't be possible.

Jason: what?? How? I'm technically alive right?

FB: yes, but that's not why. It's the parasite itself, that's the impossibility!

Danny: what do you mean?

FB: it appears the parasite is mimicking a central nervous and vein system out of ectoplasm not unlike what the Great one has, hence your reserection.

Jason: and that means???

FB: it essentially means you have a second core! But it appears unfinished. Though I am curious as to WHY it's using itself so diligently to keep you alive...

Danny: so what were to happen if we were to remove it?

Jason: ?!?!?!

FB: he would have to be put in an intensive care treatment immediately as the shock would no doubt threaten to stop his heart or rupture his core.

Jason, trying to keep himself calm: so there's no way to fix this?

FB: on the contrary, it appears your body might be trying to absorb it. Or more specifically the corrupted ectoplasm that came with it.

Jason: ok?! And??!

FB: well if we get rid of the corrupted ectoplasm, the parasite SHOULD be weakened enough to the point we can just take it out, simple as that.....in theory.

Jason growled, green coating his vision. Before getting a small electric shock in the neck

Jason: OW! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!

FB: it appears the parasite reacts to your emotions. If you get angry, it boosts your strength. Although unfortunately it seems to elevate your emotions as well, which seems to only confuse the parasite more till the threat is neutralized or out of sight.

Jason: so, what? It's sentient??

FB: it appears so, however it doesn't look to be very smart. Only reacting to emotions and the stress levels in your system. Kind of like a blob ghost with it's herd now that I think about it.

Jason: .......ARE YOU SAYING I'M BEING POSESSED BY A FUCKING BLOB GHOST?!?!?!

Danny:

Jason:

FB:

FB: well I'm NOT not saying that-

Danny had to drag Jason back home before he injured frostbite.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Thailand is back in charge

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

June 2024 Week 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

Wandee Goodday (Sat YT) ep 7 of 12 - There is so much to love about this pair. But one of the things I truly adore is what great communicators they are about what they want & need as friends & as lovers. As boyfriends? Not so much. But the way they can (and do and did) communicate speaks well to their ability to communicate in the future, once they have resolved the inevitable doom the BL gods will reign down upon us over the next 3-4 eps. I guess what I am say is... these two are gonna be awesome husbands.

The break up was sad but inevitable.

Yay for a crying kiss. I do so love a crying kiss! 

Can we talk about the fact that all that tension was worth it?

Excellent kiss all round from GreatInn. Possibly one of the best of the year. Their only issue in winning this category in 2024 is that they're up against OffGun, TayNew, and JimmySea, not to mention BillyBabe... and MosBank coming soon. But I gotta say, for a new pair? Fantastic work boys.

My Stand-In (Fri iQIYI) ep 8 of 12 - I literally spent this whole show saying “Oh, Poor Joe!” Which is now the actual name of his character: Poor Joe. He's like the country music sad sack. How much is this narrative gonna keep kicking him while he's down?  

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 1 of 12 - Star Hunter + MosBank + a beloved familiar face? You ready? Let's go. I got a lot to say.

Unexpected supernatural historical paranormal mythological Sign-esk elements happening in our dream sequence opening. I’m not mad about it. But I do think it’s going to be mishandled in the dubious hands of Star Hunter. My BLabies, no matter what else, with Star Hunter we can rest assured there will be chaos and narrative mess. And now, lucky us, there will be a supernatural mess. But at least it will be sexy and high heat.

Honestly, I'm not worried about MosBank and I know what to expect from Star Hunter,. So we're all on the same page.

Meanwhile, enter a cute side couple (normal for this studio). WAIT a second I know that face! That's Tenon of PitchBank fame (side couple, and only good thing about, Golden Blood). I’m sad to see his pair busted, but delighted to see him pop up again in a BL.

Tenon appreciation time: He kisses beautifully everyone, and he is a killer eye-emoter. We are in for a real treat with this actor. (Especially if we get to a place in the narrative where he pines. OH PLEASE MAKE HIM PINE.)

Okay back to the show. I love Tenon but I also LOVE his infiltrating, wicked smart, younger brother character. This role is great for him. I adore an industrial spy. I enjoy a rich boy pretending to be an intern in his family's company (yes it's a trope, just not common in BL). Excellent work Thailand. No notes.

In conclusion?

It’s a cheesy silly office BL and I am enjoying it immensely because I have no expectations. So don't burst my bubble. Star Hunter is bound to do that on its own without tumblr's help.

We Are Cute (Weds iQIYI) ep 11 of 16 - Oh my God they are all so cute! I love the beginning bit when Peem was feeling down and Phum tried to cheer him up. Ridiculously charming. All the sides were super adorbs too. The actual name of this show is "We Are Cute". Meanwhile, Kluen = the only boy in a BL ever to take his unfinished drink with him? I like him even more now. 

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 2 of 12 - New take on the umbrella trope to be trapped under a parasol together. NO SINGING. Honestly? I am not loving this as much as I really wanted to love it. It's the middle of the rankings for good reason. I do like the idea of historical Cinderfella BL though. Why isn't that what I'm watching? The play with in a play is a dangerous trope to deploy, it only distracts my with attractive possibilities. 

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 2 of 10 - I'm gonna try to cycle back to ending this rap-up week on Saturdays, which means the recap for this episode will be in next week's weekly (so to speak). Meanwhile, I am doing a Trash watch on this show. Hopefully that will get updated tomorrow.

Knock Knock Boys (Thurs Gaga) ep 4 of 12 - It’s fun enough. Kind of a pulpy lark. Best + Seng = a surprisingly good match.

Only Boo! (Sun YT) ep 10 of 12 - Good kiss from the sides. No surprises there. The main’s kissing was fine too, I guess. I like that they had a genuine struggle with being an idol and not being able to date. It’s nice to see that depicted on screen in a BL. I wish we had a bit more of a montage around the rise & success of Moo's boy group. But I understand the money in play for this kind of show prohibits that. All in all? It’s fine. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

At 25:00 in Akasaka AKA 25 Ji Akasaka de (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 9 of 10 - Oof. This ep was painful. So much awkward desperation and confusion. Oh Japan, must you?

Crazy to be in a place and time where there is no other noted non-Thai BLs airing. Not even from Korea. What is going on? Are we in 2020 all over again? Please no.

It's airing but...

The Last Time (Thai Fri YT?) - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something. Can't find it.

OMG Vampire (Thai Sun ???) 10 eps - I can't find it. Comments from last week suggest this is not my thing anyway, but Lee Long Shi very much IS my thing. I've put the search on hold for a bit and y'all can let me know if it's worth tracking down. Also, who knew Frank & Big could kiss like that? Not me.

ARGH could Monster Next Door please just start airing. I am SO tired of waiting for Big to lead out a BL. It should have happened years ago. *grumbles in chronic second lead syndrome*

In case you missed it

Let's Eat Together Aki and Haru 2 AKA Aki wa Haru to Gohan wo Tabetai 2 Haime! (Japan movie) - Continues the (frankly) lackadaisical story from part 1 ans was meant to drop yesterday. We thought maybe Gaga, but nothing so far.

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer released to Korean theaters 5/25. HoTae & DongHee, side couple from Unintentional Love Story are back! Same actors, same character names. I love them. Devastated this hasn't had international distribution.

As others see us: NuNew's 'Awful' Performance in BABYMONSTER's 'SHEESH' Goes Viral - I don't like BL being noticed by Kpop stans. I flipping LOATHE this song and I'm not wild about Babym. This is all 'round uncomfortable making and I want it to stop.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

June Releases Still Coming

6/26 The Rebound (Thai Weds Gaga) - MeenPing are back in their 3rd BL together, a basketball based romance (Meen was a national basketball player, so yay for that). I like this pair better than most (I still do miss Meen with Est but Est has a fantastic looking new BL coming from GMMTV so yeah...) Anyway I'm up for a sports romance starring a man who, yah know, actually played that sport so... I'm game (pun intended).

6/26 I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) 10 eps - A new series adaptation of beloved yaoi I Hear the Sunspot (first adaptation was feature film Silhouette of Your Voice 2017).

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Forget "boyfriends but they don't realize it." These two are married but they don't realize it.

Praise be, he didn't leave his full drink behind. BEST BOY.

It was a great make out sesh.

THAT LIP BITE.

All round excellent ep this week, We Are Cuties.

Top tier flirting banker from the fuck buddies though. Man, their innuendo is on point. And I do mean that point. (Wandee Goodday)

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity

@rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in it's infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

There's these tricks, remember.

[dragonlands]

There's so much negativity around Izzy's death so I wanted to address some of the points I keep seeing thrown around.

"Izzy's death was pointless"

No, he just had his big speech about how basically they can kill him but they cannot kill the movement. That is a clear paraller to a lot of real life protestors of unjustice. He died protecting the community, he died so the community could go on.

"Izzy's death made his healing pointless"

No it didn't. Healing is always good, feeling happiness and belonging are ALWAYS worth it. We never know how long we've got, doesn't mean we gotta stop trying to be better or happier. His healing was still real. It still mattered.

"Izzy's character arc was left unfinished, it's bad writing"

Oh my god. If you open any writing guide about how to write impactful deaths, and the first thing that comes up is to leave some part of their arc unfinished. And his arc did go through quite a beautiful line, sure there could've been more but his story didn't end like, mid arc. As a writer, of course you want to make the audience sad when a character dies. It's good storytelling. Good stories are supposed to make us feel.

"Izzy died on the arms of his abuser"

Where the hell did this idea come from? Ed and Izzy have been in a toxic codependent relationship way before this show started. You could argue that Izzy was Ed's abuser, but that is not the argument I want to make here. Yes, we saw Ed driven to madness shoot Izzy on screen, but we know Izzy's the one that forced him to be Blackbeart when he didn't want it anymore. There's turmoil all around them. But the final moment is them finally meeting as people, not as components of Blackbeard.

"Izzy's death was unnecessarily awful"

His death was sad, yes, but it was quite beautiful as far as deaths go. He was surrounded by family who cared for him. He was loved, and accepted as he is. He knew his legacy will be carried on.

"They killed off the only character that showed us healing is never too late"

Did we watch the same show? That begins with then unhappy 40+ year old Stede deciding it's finally time to reach for his dreams? Where we see Blackbeard slowly gaining back his humanity? Where Black Pete starts off as toxically masculine dude but ends up in a soft gay marriage? Where most of the crew wanted to mutiny but then they realized being soft is good, actually. Jim's whole purpose in life being revenge but them learning to let that go and instead concentrate on love and fun and family. And so on. Izzy's arc is beautiful, but he's not the only person healing who thought it was too late already.

"Izzy's death was bury your gays trope"

No, what, no. In a pirate show where everyobody is queer some queer people will die. Bury your gays is about only having one or few queer characters and killing them off while the straights get their happily ever afters. This is so far from that.

Also, I want people to be aware of the phenomenon, where creators of diverse shows are subjected to more critism than those of non diverse shows. If this intrests you, Sarah Z on Youtube made a great video on it called Double standards and diverse media. Our flag means death has given us so much, queer love story with a happily ever after, finding community, nonbinary character. And the creators have always been so kind to fans, so let's show them tht kindness back. Because critizicing this one aspect can easily turn to seeming like the whole story is just unwanted. That stories like Ed and Stede's aren't worth telling. And I'm so aftraid that will happen, when just now for the first time in years we are finally getting queer stories.

Also, I understand people are sad. I am sad too - Izzy was an amazing character and his death was sad but that's just. Good writing. You can grieve, but trying to turn it into a moral or dramaturgy issue is just not a good look. And attacking the creators of this wonderful show is just horrible.

Remember - this fandom is a safe space ship 🏴‍☠️🏳️‍🌈

[rafesapologist]

the setback ─ rafe cameron; part thirteen

summary: it's been two years since your departure from the outer banks and rafe cameron has seemingly convinced himself that he can go on with his life as if you never happened, except now more than ever his addiction is at an all time high. whether he was snorting lines of cocaine at wild parties or drowning himself in alcohol to numb the pain, rafe couldn't escape the memories of you. despite his efforts to bury his feelings, your absence lingered like a shadow, haunting him at every turn. meanwhile, you've been navigating life outside the outer banks, trying to carve out a new path for yourself. but no matter how far you've traveled, the memories of rafe cameron still linger in your heart, leaving you with a sense of unfinished business. as you find yourself facing new challenges and opportunities, you can't help but wonder if fate will eventually bring you back to the place where it all began.

warnings: brief moments of kissing, violence, swearing, mentions of blood

author's note: i was writing this during 1013029 other assignments so if there's any errors forgive me i have so much mental fatigue rn also i think i spelled sofia's name wrong at some point in this story so my b

You stood there in silence, your lip quivering in the aftermath of the argument with Kiara. Holding yourself tightly, you fought back tears, the weight of her words pressing down on you. The night air felt heavy and suffocating, the sounds of the party fading into the background.

Rafe placed a gentle hand on the small of your back, his touch warm and reassuring. "I can take you home if you need me to. Or you can come back to my place," he offered, his voice soft and concerned.

You sniffled, wiping away a single tear as you turned to face Rafe, nodding quickly as you tried to brush off your emotions. "Can you just... take me to your house tonight?" you said flatly, your gaze fixed on the ground. "I don't think it's a good idea to be around Kie right now. She probably needs time to calm down."

Rafe nodded without hesitation, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly. "Of course," he replied softly. "Let's get out of here, okay?"

The drive was a blur, the city lights flickering past as you both sat in contemplative silence. When you finally arrived at Rafe's house, he parked the car and hurried around to your side, opening the door for you. You stepped out, the cool night air brushing against your skin, grounding you for a moment.

Rafe led you inside, his hand gently resting on the small of your back, guiding you through the dimly lit hallway. The house was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos of the party. You felt a strange sense of calm wash over you as you entered his home, the familiarity of it offering a small comfort.

He took you to the living room and sat you down on the couch, then disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later, he returned with a glass of water and a warm blanket, draping it over your shoulders as he handed you the glass.

"Here," he said softly, sitting down beside you. "Drink this. It'll help."

You took a sip, the cool water soothing your parched throat. Rafe watched you with concern, his eyes never leaving your face.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently.

You shook your head, not ready to delve into the emotions swirling inside you. "Not right now," you murmured. "I just... I need a moment."

Rafe nodded, respecting your need for space. He reached out and took your hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "I'm here when you're ready," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

You leaned back against the couch, the events of the night replaying in your mind. Kiara's harsh words, Sophia's taunts, and the overwhelming confrontation left you feeling drained and uncertain. But as you sat there, Rafe's presence beside you offered a sense of support.

Rafe's house was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling party you had just left. You leaned back on the couch, the blanket wrapped tightly around you as Rafe sat beside you, his hand still holding yours. The warmth of his touch was a grounding force amidst the chaos in your mind.

"I know things are a mess right now," Rafe began, his voice low and soothing. "But we'll figure it out. I promise."

You nodded, but your thoughts were far away, replaying the confrontation with Kiara over and over again. Her words had cut deep, and the realization that your secret was partially out left you feeling exposed and vulnerable. The anger in her voice and the betrayal in her eyes were hard to shake off.

Rafe squeezed your hand gently, bringing you back to the present. "Do you want to watch something? Maybe a movie to distract you?" You simply nodded.

Rafe got up from the couch and grabbed the remote, flicking through the channels until he found a light-hearted movie. He settled back down beside you, his arm draping over your shoulders protectively. As the movie played, you tried to focus on the screen, but your mind kept wandering back to the confrontation with Kiara.

"Is this okay?" Rafe asked softly, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort.

You nodded weakly, your eyes glued to your hands as you picked at your nails. "Yeah, it's fine."

Rafe adjusted the volume to a low, comforting hum. He leaned back, pulling you gently against him. His presence was soothing, a small lifeline in the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

For a while, you sat in silence, the movie playing in the background. Rafe's fingers traced small, comforting circles on your arm. The gesture was simple but grounding, allowing you to feel his support without the need for words.

"I don't want to lose my friends," you whispered after a while, your voice barely audible.

Rafe tightened his hold on you. "I know. And you won't. It's just... going to take time. They're just being stubborn."

You nodded, the lump in your throat growing. "I just wish things could go back to how they were."

Rafe's eyes stayed glued to yours, reading your expression carefully. "What do you mean?"

"It's just that—I don't know. I wish we didn't have to hide our relationship from them. I want to be with you unapologetically, yet I know my friends are going to crucify me for just speaking to you again." Your voice wavered with frustration and a touch of desperation, the weight of the secrecy and the fear of judgment bearing down on you.

Rafe's expression softened, a mix of understanding and sadness crossing his features. He reached out, taking both of your hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring. "I know baby, I'm sorry," he said quietly, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on the backs of your hands. "But we can get through this. I don't want you to feel like you have to choose between me and your friends."

You looked down, the conflict inside you swirling like a storm. "But what if they make me choose? What if they don't understand why I'm with you? Kiara and the others... they have such strong opinions about you, and they're not exactly positive."

Rafe sighed, a hint of frustration creeping up into his voice. "I know, but really, if they care about you, they would want you to be happy. It's selfish of them to ask you to choose."

You nodded, feeling a flicker of validation in his words. "I've never thought of it that way," you admitted, a glimmer of hope stirring within you.

"I'm serious, y/n," he continued, his tone firm but gentle. "You have gone through hell and back for them. The least they could do is let you be happy."

"It's not that simple," you responded, frustration and sadness mingling in your voice. "They've been my friends for so long, and we've been through so much together. They're like family to me. I can't just ignore their feelings."

Rafe sighed, understanding but still resolute. "I get that, but think about what you're saying. If they're truly your friends, if they really care about you, they should want you to be happy. You shouldn't have to hide who you're with or feel ashamed of your choices."

You sighed, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. "I just wish they could see you the way I do," you said softly. "See how much you've changed and how much you care."

"I don't think they'll ever necessarily love me," Rafe sighed, tracing gentle lines onto your bare thigh, his touch soothing yet tinged with his own vulnerability. "But if they can see that you're happy with me, they'll have to at least accept that."

You nodded, feeling the truth of his words settle within you. "I hope so," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just want them to understand that I want to be with you, that you’re not who they think you are."

Rafe's eyes softened, his hand pausing its gentle motion to rest warmly on your thigh. "They will. It might take time, but they’ll see it. And I'll do whatever it takes to show them that I'm committed to you."

You placed your hand over his, squeezing gently. "Thank you, Rafe. For being patient and understanding. Means a lot to me."

He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "You're worth it," he said softly, his breath warm against your skin. "Every bit of it."

You and Rafe sat in silence for a moment, pausing to stare back at each other as you both analyzed the features of each other's faces. You felt the world melt away around you, as if everything else was just background noise amidst the feeling that was brewing inside of you towards Rafe.

His eyes, filled with a mix of concern and affection, held yours with an intensity that made your heart race. The gentle curve of his lips, the way his hair fell slightly into his eyes—every detail seemed to draw you in deeper. You could feel the electricity between you, a magnetic pull that was impossible to ignore.

Then suddenly, Rafe cupped your face gently, his touch soft and reassuring. His thumb brushed lightly across your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. Without a word, he leaned in, his eyes never leaving yours until the very last moment.

His lips attached themselves to yours, moving slowly and tenderly. The kiss was soft at first, a tentative exploration, but it quickly deepened as you responded, your mouths moving in sync together. The sensation was overwhelming, a flood of emotions and sensations that made your head spin and your heart flutter.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, their delicate wings brushing against the walls of your insides, filling you with a sense of exhilaration and warmth. The worries and fears that had weighed you down seemed to dissolve in that moment, replaced by the pure, unfiltered joy of being close to Rafe.

His hands slid from your face to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. You wrapped your arms around him, holding on as if he were the only thing anchoring you to the world. The taste of his lips, the warmth of his skin, the rhythm of his heartbeat against yours—it all combined to create a perfect, intoxicating moment of connection.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and slightly dizzy, you opened your eyes to find Rafe gazing at you with an expression of pure adoration. His forehead rested against yours, both of you catching your breath, the world around you slowly coming back into focus.

Rafe's hand reached out, gently cradling your cheek as he whispered, "I love you, y/n," his voice soft yet full of sincerity. His eyes, filled with affection, locked onto yours, a silent declaration of his unwavering devotion.

Feeling the warmth of his touch, you leaned into his hand, savoring the tenderness of the moment. "I love you too, Rafe," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

A smile graced Rafe's lips, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheekbone as he leaned in closer. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining as he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

"I'm always gonna love you," Rafe whispered, his voice filled with vulnerability and tenderness.

"How can you be so sure?" you asked quietly, your eyes glued onto your lap as you fiddled with your hands.

Rafe's gaze softened, his hand reaching out to gently lift your chin, guiding your eyes to meet his. "Because," he said softly, his voice certain, "I've spent the last two years thinking you were gone for good, and I'll be damned if I don't love you right while you're here."

"I've missed you so much," you whispered, your voice trembling with raw emotion. "I never thought I'd get a second chance with you."

Rafe's thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped your eye. "You have me now," he murmured, his eyes locking onto yours with a fierce intensity. "And I'm not going anywhere."

You gave Rafe a small smile, gazing up at him with weary, tired eyes, but the blissful contentment you felt was undeniable. He noticed the exhaustion etched into your expression and gently urged you, "Get some sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

His words were soft, a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. You nodded, trusting in his promise. With a sense of security washing over you, you nestled closer into his embrace, your head resting against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you into a deep slumber, each beat a reminder of his presence and unwavering support.

As you drifted off, Rafe wrapped his arms more securely around you, his touch a protective cocoon. He watched over you, his eyes filled with a tender mix of love and concern. The room fell silent, the only sound the soft, even breaths you took as you slept peacefully in his arms on the couch.

Hours passed soon passed when Rafe, too, succumbed to the comforting embrace of sleep. His arms instinctively wrapped around you, as if you might disappear if he let go. The both of you slept peacefully in each other's presence, the world outside fading away as you found solace in your shared slumber.

The tranquility of the night was abruptly shattered by a loud banging on the front door. The sudden noise jolted you awake, your heart pounding in your chest. The movement stirred Rafe, his arms tightening protectively around you as he blinked himself awake, confusion and concern flashing in his eyes.

"What's going on?" he mumbled, his voice groggy but alert.

"I don't know, somebody is pounding at the front door," you replied, sitting up and looking towards the door, the remnants of sleep quickly giving way to a sense of unease.

Rafe was immediately on his feet, his protective instincts kicking in as he moved to stand between you and the door. "Stay here," he instructed firmly, though his voice remained gentle.

The banging continued, persistent and insistent. Rafe glanced back at you, his eyes filled with reassurance despite the tension in the air. He approached the door cautiously, peering through the peephole before opening it slightly.

"Who's there?" he demanded, his tone steady but firm.

Suddenly, your heart fell to your stomach as you heard a familiar voice through the door, "Open the fucking door, Cameron. I need to have a word with you, asshole!" The voice shouted, causing you to flinch. You looked at Rafe with dread and worry in your eyes. You could recognize that voice from miles away—it was JJ.

Rafe's jaw tightened, and he glanced at you, reading the anxiety on your face. He took a deep breath, trying to remain calm as he turned back to the door. Silently, he urged you to stay where you were, though you felt a strong urge to rush in front of him.

Rafe swung the door open, only to be met with JJ, his anger evident across his face. "Where the fuck is she, Rafe? You think you can just have her whenever you feel like it, huh?" JJ shouted, shoving Rafe in the chest.

Rafe staggered back slightly but held his ground, his eyes narrowing. "JJ, calm down. This isn't the way to handle this." His voice remained somewhat calm, hoping not to scare you more than you already were.

"Calm down?" JJ barked, his face contorted with rage. "You've got some nerve, Cameron. Where is she?"

You took a step forward, your heart pounding in your chest. "JJ, I'm right here," you said, your voice steady despite the fear coursing through you. "Please, just stop."

JJ's eyes snapped to you, and for a moment, the anger in his gaze was replaced by hurt. "Why, Y/N? Why are you with him? After everything he's done?"

Rafe stepped slightly in front of you, shielding you with his body. "JJ, I know you're upset. But barging in here and starting a fight isn't going to help anything."

"Shut the fuck up, Rafe. You don't know shit about how I feel," JJ seethed, a look of disgust ridden on his face as he glared at Rafe. "y/n, are you serious? The second we get back on the island, you run right back to him? Are you insane?"

JJ's chagrin and despondency left you feel gutted in the heat of the moment as you stood there, although physically guarded by Rafe, suffocated by the morose glance in your best friend's eyes as they bored into yours. You could feel heat rise to your cheeks as the tension rose, an uncomfortable itch creeping up your neck.

"Jay it wasn't like that," you defended although it was quite meekly, "I wanted nothing to do with him when we came back, you know that. I..I didn't choose this." Your words faltered, lacking the conviction you wished you could muster. Your arms wrapped around yourself protectively, a feeble attempt to shield yourself from the onslaught of JJ's resentment.

"So that's it? You didn't 'choose this', so that makes cheating on me okay?" JJ spat out, his once wounded expression faltering into one of disgust and animosity.

"So that's it? You didn't 'choose this', so that makes cheating on me okay?" JJ spat out, his tone laced with bitterness and anger. The accusation hung heavy in the air, and you felt a lump form in your throat. Guilt gnawed at your insides, a painful reminder of the hurt you had inadvertently caused. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you struggled to find the right words to explain yourself.

You stumbled on your words once again, attempting to speak up for yourself despite your heart breaking right in that moment. "No, JJ, I-"

"Save it, Y/N. I hope all of this was worth it," JJ scoffed, pointing around for emphasis. "You're a real bitch, you know that?" His words struck you like a physical blow, and you felt your chest tighten with the weight of his accusation. The pain in his voice mirrored the agony in your own heart, and the realization that you had hurt him so deeply was almost unbearable.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Instead, you squared your shoulders, a shaky resolve settling over you. "JJ, please, just listen-"

Just before you could finish your sentence, Rafe spoke up, getting in between you and JJ. "Don't you fucking dare call her that," he threatened, his voice low and dangerous. His protective stance shielded you from JJ's searing gaze.

"Or what, Rafe? You're gonna call your daddy and have him frame me for a murder you committed?" JJ shot back, his words dripping with venom, his fists clenching at his sides.

In an instant, the atmosphere crackled with tension, the air thick with animosity. Rafe's usually composed demeanor shattered like glass, replaced by a primal fury. He lunged forward, his fist connecting with JJ's jaw with a sickening thud. The room erupted into chaos as the two men grappled with each other, fists flying and curses spat between clenched teeth. Rafe's rage fueled every blow, his pent-up frustration unleashed in a flurry of violence.

JJ fought back with equal ferocity, his anger fueled by a sense of betrayal and hurt. Each punch landed with a sickening impact, the sound echoing off the walls as the fight raged on.

You watched in horror, torn between the instinct to intervene and the fear of making things worse. "Stop! Please, stop!" you cried out, your voice barely audible over the sound of their struggle.

But your pleas fell on deaf ears as the two men continued to pummel each other, locked in a vicious battle fueled by years of unresolved tension. Furniture toppled and glass shattered as they crashed into anything in their path, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Rafe managed to gain the upper hand. With a final, bone-crushing blow, he sent JJ crashing to the ground, blood pooling beneath him as he lay motionless. The room fell into stunned silence as Rafe stood over JJ's prone form, his chest heaving with exertion. The adrenaline coursing through his veins slowly began to ebb away, replaced by a wave of guilt and regret.

You stood there, frozen in shock, your hands trembling as you covered your wide-open mouth. The scene unfolded before you in a surreal blur, the sound of fists connecting and bodies colliding echoing in the air. Tears streamed down your cheeks unchecked, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

As JJ fell to the floor from Rafe's powerful blow, a strangled gasp escaped your lips. The sight of him lying motionless, blood pooling beneath him, sent a shiver down your spine. It was as if time had come to a standstill, the weight of the violence crashing down on you like a ton of bricks.

Rafe's voice broke through the haze of shock, his words heavy with regret. "Y/N, you shouldn't have seen that. I'm so sorry."

You blinked, trying to process his apology amidst the chaos that surrounded you. His voice sounded distant, as if coming from a faraway place, and you struggled to find your own voice amidst the turmoil in your mind.

"I-" You shook your head, backing up as you stared down at JJ, your heart wrenching in anguish. Tears streamed down your cheeks, blurring your vision as you cried, "JJ, please wake up. I'm sorry... I didn't mean for this to happen."

Your voice cracked with emotion, each word choked out between sobs as you knelt beside him. You reached out, gently cradling JJ's head in your trembling hands, desperate for any sign of life from him.

"Rafe, we have to help him, please," you pleaded, your voice a desperate whisper as you turned to Rafe, your eyes pleading for assistance. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on you, the guilt of witnessing the violence that had unfolded consuming you from the inside out.

"Get my phone and call Sarah, please," you pleaded, your voice trembling with urgency as Rafe rushed over to grab it. He handed it to you with a sense of urgency, his guilty expression mirroring the turmoil in your own heart.

With shaking hands, you dialed Sarah's number, each digit feeling like a weight in your chest. The phone rang once, twice, before finally connecting.

"Sarah," you choked out, your voice thick with tears. "I need you to come over to your house, please. Something happened with JJ." As you spoke, Rafe hovered anxiously beside you, his eyes filled with remorse. You could see the weight of his actions bearing down on him, and despite the chaos surrounding you, a small part of you couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him.

"Okay," Sarah replied, her voice steady but tinged with concern. "I'll be there in a second."

The urgency in her tone spurred you into action. With trembling hands, you ended the call and turned to Rafe, your eyes filled with a mix of fear and determination.

"We need to do something," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "We can't just leave him here like this."

Together, you sprang into action, working in frantic silence to assess JJ's injuries. Blood stained his shirt where Rafe's punches had landed, and you could see bruises forming on his face and arms. As you knelt beside him, gently cradling his head in your hands, a sense of helplessness washed over you. The sight of JJ lying there, battered and broken, was almost too much to bear.

But you refused to give in to despair. With Sarah on her way, there was still hope. You could only pray that she would arrive in time to help.

Minutes felt like hours as you waited, each second ticking by with agonizing slowness. Finally, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching, and relief flooded through you as Sarah burst through the door, her medical bag in hand.

"Thank God you're here," you breathed, your voice thick with emotion.

Sarah's eyes widened in horror at the sight of JJ on the floor, his battered form a stark contrast to the usual lively friend they knew. Before she could speak, Kiara appeared from behind her, her shocked gasp echoing through the room.

"What the fuck did you do?" Kiara's voice was filled with disbelief and anger, her eyes flickering between you, Rafe, and JJ's prone figure on the floor.

You felt a knot form in your stomach at the accusation in her tone. "Kiara, it's not what you think," you began, your voice trembling with emotion. "Rafe didn't mean for any of this to happen."

Rafe stepped forward, his expression pained. "It was an accident," he added, his voice thick with remorse. "I never meant to hurt him."

But Kiara's eyes narrowed, her disbelief turning to fury. "An accident?" she spat, her voice rising with each word. "Look at him! Do you call this an accident?"

You flinched at the accusation, the weight of Kiara's anger bearing down on you like a heavy burden. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to find the words to explain yourself.

"We need to get him to a hospital," Sarah interjected, her voice calm but urgent. "Now."

You nodded, frantically looking around the room for your things as you prepared to head to the hospital with your friends, a sense of urgency propelling you forward. But before you could take another step, Kiara's voice stopped you in your tracks.

"No, you're not going," she declared, her tone firm and uncompromising. She crossed her arms, her attitude towards you full of spite.

You felt a surge of disbelief wash over you at her words. "But Kiara, I have to go," you protested, your voice tinged with desperation. "I need to be there for JJ."

Kiara's gaze hardened, her resolve unyielding. "You caused this," she accused, her words cutting through the air like a knife. "And you're gonna have to live with it."

The weight of her words hit you like a ton of bricks, the realization sinking in that you were being held accountable for the events that had transpired. Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to comprehend the gravity of the situation.

"But I didn't mean for any of this to happen," you pleaded, your voice cracking with emotion. "Please, Kiara, I need to be there for him."

But Kiara remained unmoved, her expression steely as she refused to budge. With a heavy heart, you realized that there was no changing her mind.

Defeated, you sank down onto the nearest chair, feeling utterly powerless as your friends prepared to leave without you. The guilt of what had happened weighed heavily on your shoulders, and as you watched them disappear out the door, you couldn't help but wonder if things would ever be the same again.

"Y/n, it's gonna be okay," Rafe reassured quietly, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder and giving a small squeeze. His touch was warm, but the comfort it offered felt distant and far away.

You stared at the doorway, watching as Sarah and Kiara disappeared with JJ. A single tear slid down your cheek, a silent testament to the turmoil swirling inside you. The room felt colder and emptier in their absence, the weight of the night's events pressing down on you like a physical burden.

"I don't know, Rafe," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I don't know if things will ever be okay again."

Rafe squeezed your shoulder a bit tighter, his expression softening with concern. "They will. Kiara's just angry right now. She'll come back around."

You wanted to believe him, to cling to the hope that somehow, things would return to normal. But as you sat there, feeling the sting of Kiara's words and the pain of JJ's injuries, the rift between your two worlds seemed insurmountable.

You turned to Rafe, searching his eyes for reassurance. "What if they don't? What if I've lost them for good?"

Rafe paused for a moment, his gaze holding steady as his eyes flickered between yours. He swallowed thickly, his expression softening with earnest concern. "You can't keep worrying about what might happen in the future, y/n," he said gently. "You just have to take things one step at a time, yeah? Don't stress yourself out over them."

You nodded slowly, trying to absorb his words. The future felt like a dark, looming cloud, but Rafe's steady presence offered a small ray of light. His hand moved from your shoulder to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that had fallen.

"I know it's hard," he continued, his voice unwavering. "But you need to focus on what you can control right now. We'll deal with the rest as it comes."

You took a deep breath, feeling a slight easing of the tension that had gripped you. "I just... I don't want to lose them," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"You won't," Rafe promised, his eyes filled with determination. "It might take some time, but if they really love you, they will come around. They just need to see that you're happy and that this is real."

You bit your lip, considering his words. The thought of losing your friends was unbearable, but so was the idea of losing Rafe. You knew that somehow, you had to find a way to reconcile both parts of your life.

"Thank you, Rafe," you said quietly, your voice steadying. "For being here. For understanding."

Rafe crouched down to be eye level with you on the couch, placing his hands on the tops of your thighs as he gazed up at you softly. His touch was gentle, grounding you in the present moment as he spoke. "I'm always gonna be here, y/n. That I promise you."

You looked into his eyes, searching for any hint of doubt but finding none. His sincerity was genuine, and the warmth of his hands on your thighs provided a comforting blanket around your heart as your emotions felt torn. The unwavering steadiness in his gaze reassured you in a way that words alone couldn't.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they were tears of relief and gratitude. "Rafe, I don't know what I would do without you," you whispered, your voice cracking slightly.

"I could say the same to you," Rafe laughed softly, though a glimpse of sincerity peaked through his tone. He shifted slightly, his hands still resting on your thighs, his thumbs gently tracing soothing circles. "Seeing you again showed me how miserable I was when you were gone. I was a mess."

You furrowed your brow, your curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?" you asked, searching his eyes for answers.

Rafe sighed, his expression growing more somber as he averted his gaze briefly, as if gathering the courage to continue. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he steadied himself. "I did a lot of things I regret," he admitted, his voice heavy with remorse. "I... I cheated on Sofia, did a shit ton of drugs. There's not much I didn't do."

You felt a pang of sadness and concern for him as you listened. His honesty was raw, unfiltered, and it made you realize just how deeply your absence had affected him. Rafe's hands tightened slightly on your thighs, as if he feared you might pull away after hearing his confession.

"When you left, I felt like my world fell apart," he continued, his voice trembling slightly. "I didn't know how to cope, so I turned to anything that could numb the pain. I thought I could fill the void with other people, with substances, but nothing worked. I was just... lost."

You reached out, placing a hand on his cheek, guiding his gaze back to yours. "Rafe, I'm so sorry you went through that," you whispered, your heart aching for the pain he had endured. "I had no idea."

Rafe leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment as if savoring the comfort it brought. "It was my own doing," he said quietly, his voice filled with regret. "But seeing you again, being with you now, it feels like I've been given a second chance. I don't want to mess this up."

Your thumb gently stroked his cheek, wiping away a tear that had escaped his eye. "We're both here now," you reassured him softly. "We can move forward together, learn from the past and make things right."

Rafe nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a newfound determination. "I want to be better for you, y/n," he vowed, his voice steady and sincere. "I want to be the person you deserve."

"You're the only person I want," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air between you, charged with emotion and vulnerability.

Rafe's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of hope igniting in their depths. He shifted closer, his hands sliding up from your thighs to gently cradle your face. "You don't know how much it means to hear you say that," he murmured, his thumbs brushing lightly across your cheeks.

Your heart raced as you gazed into his eyes, the intensity of the moment making everything else fade into the background. "It's the truth," you continued, your voice growing steadier. "No matter what happens, no matter what anyone else thinks, I want to be with you."

Rafe's breath hitched, and for a moment, he looked as if he was struggling to find the right words. Instead, he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "I promise I'll make it up to you, all of the time we lost," he whispered against your skin. "I'll be the man you deserve."

You closed your eyes, savoring the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his voice. "We can make this work," you said softly, your hands coming up to rest on his shoulders. "As long as we're honest with each other, I think we'll be okay, Rafe."

Rafe pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression serious yet filled with a renewed sense of determination. "I'm all in," he declared, his voice unwavering. "No more secrets, no more lies. Just us, no matter what anyone says."

You nodded, feeling a surge of hope and resolve. "I promise," you echoed, sealing your promise with a kiss.

As your lips met, you felt a profound sense of connection, a bond forged in the trials and tribulations of the past and strengthened by the commitment to face the future as a united front. The kiss deepened, a mix of passion and reassurance, conveying everything words couldn't.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, but the air between you was lighter, filled with possibilities. Rafe rested his forehead against yours, a small smile playing on his lips. "We should probably get some sleep," he suggested gently, his hands still cradling your face. "It's been a long night."

You nodded, a feeling of exhaustion beginning to settle in now that the adrenaline was fading. "You're right," you agreed, though you were reluctant to break the moment. "But I'm glad we talked."

"Me too," Rafe replied, his smile growing. "Come on, let's get some rest."

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[soothinglee]

what would i do? (without someone like you) ──★ ˙🌱 ̟ ¡!

bangchan x ninth member! reader | 1.6k words✔︎

my notes⎯ i re-wrote this thing so many times i've lost count lol. i don't know if i'm satisfied with this because i couldn't convey the feeling as well as i wanted but i still like it! hope you enjoy! (also #bangchantakecareofyourself) warnings⎯ self neglect, reader taking care of bangchan. genre⎯ ninth member! au, angst, comfort, (heavily implied) self-neglect, platonic. songs⎯ what would i do?; strawberry guy

⎯catalog for skz✰ | ⎯ navigation✰ [requests are open]

"are you okay chan?"

the question lingers in the air for a hot second. it floats around until it hits the distracted ear of chan, who sits with his face resting on his chin, unmoving from his seat at the desk.

he blinks after a second, the fog slowly clearing from his eyes.

"huh?" his voice sounds distant as he resumes fiddling with the unfinished track.

you could tell that something was off in his demeanor. his postured was slouched, arms weak in their positions as he tries to fight off the sleep to continue working. you figured it had been a while since he had rest. you all were pre-paring for a comeback and with that comes a lot of work. new concepts, new looks, new songs. a high expectation bangchan finds himself fretting over due to the preconceived notions stays has on the upcoming album.

you've seen bangchan re-write a song 15 times because he thought stays wouldn't like one lyric. everyone, including you, has told him that he could only remove that one line, and keep the rest but he had the idea that everything has to flow together. which is why he's on take #16.

you give him a once over, your brows creasing. "i said are you okay?" he gives you a quick glance, his head bouncing as he goes back to his laptop, "how about you take a break?"

"can't."

a quiet sigh leaves your lips as you get up from the couch. the sky had darken as more time was spent in the studio, the only light source was the small table lamp in the far corner in the room. even then you could see just how much all of this was affecting him.

his eyes were sunken in, big purple-red like bruises encase them. he lifts up his hand to rub at the irritated skin. anyone could tell that he was exhausted.

your hands come up to rub out the kinks in his shoulders, "you're exhausted."

his body is defiant in letting him relax into your soothing touch, he hesitates for a second, letting the final moments of the massage sit in before he lightly shakes you off. "no time for sleep. i took a nap earlier, and i had a cup of coffee." he goes back to the track he was clipping.

an eyebrow raise, "how much earlier?"

this time he sighs and drops both hands. "y/n..."

"i'm just looking out for you. as the leader you have to take care of yourself, because if you aren't, then how do you expect to take care of us?" you know the question hits hard when you feel his body freeze underneath your hands. you stare at the back of his head, in the corner of your eye you see his shadow move a fraction and then his head drops. "you know that you don't have to be so hard on yourself," you take a moment to gauge his reaction, then a soft, "right?"

he releases a shaky breath, muttering.

you let your hands find the base of his neck, letting them go down to follow the path of his shoulder, willing the words from his throat. when you first joined stray kids, you were extremely nervous to the point where you couldn't speak, bangchan found that the movement worked well. you hoped it would work as well in your favor.

"i" he starts, his voice broken under the amount of stress resting on his chest, "yeah...i know."

you nod to yourself, a prideful smile on your lips, "okay then, why don't you take a break, let han or changbin finish it up in the morning," he goes to interject but you're quick to cut in, "and don't worry about putting this on them," taking the words from his mouth, "i'm sure they won't mind.

for the first time since he entered the studio, it's been almost 5 hours, he looks up at you and you can just see how much it's all affecting him, even down to the glassy look rising in his eyes.

he doesn't say anything but stare. he still looks hesitant. like at any moment he'll run off with the laptop and lock himself in a closet.

you stare back.

30 seconds, maybe a minute passes before a defeated look crosses over his face, letting his head drop onto your outstretched arm. wordlessly, he gives you one last look, then turns around to save the file, exit out of the software, and shuts down his computer.

"okay."

"okay?" you can't help the happiness that laces your tone.

"okay, i'll take a break, get some rest."

a squeal escapes your throat as you hold yourself back from celebrating, you honestly didn't think it was going to be as easy as it was. "i'm glad you're doing this, you need to give yourself some time to repair." you step back as he rises from the chair, holding on to his arm as he tries to return the feeling back to his legs, "how about you let me take care of you tonight? we can stop by the convenience store on the way home and pick up some snacks?"

chan immediately shakes his head, "i can't let you do that."

you bend down to retrieve your bag from the couch, making a pit stop by the lamp to turn it off, "why not?" you question, meeting him at the door. he leans on it for support. "you do it for me all the time."

"exactly," he holds open the door for you as you make your way out into the hallway, as you walk several offices are lit up by the occupants inside, you can only hope that they are not in the same situation as the man next to you. "as your elder, i'm supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around."

you scoff, rolling your eyes, "please, you know how many times i have had to take care of changbin after he gets sick because he ate too much? this is nothing new."

for the first time in 3 days a sound embodying the phrase ha ha ha escapes his lips. it's so hearty and abrupt that he has to stop walking. it brings a little smile to your face.

"what?" you groan, playing into it. "it's not funny! it was so annoying, i'm serious!" you latch onto his arm to continue dragging him out and into the lobby, nodding at the lady at the front desk as you pass, "he sounded like a baby with the way he was complaining."

"trust," he starts, regaining his breath, "i've had to deal with that before." he huffs and looks at you, then the giggles come back and you can't help but join him. it lasts until you get to the front doors of eMart.

before you can pass through the threshold a hand yanks you back. you look up to find chan already staring at you, an indescribable glint in his eyes. "yeah?"

it takes him a second to gather his thoughts, mouth opening and closing undecidedly. after a moment he finally finds his voice, hand gripping onto the sleeve of your jacket. "...thank you." he blinks and a stray tear falls, "it means a lot."

you can't help the watery smile that graces itself on your lips, the sudden affection throwing you off guard. you reach up and brush the tears from his face, using two fingers to turn the corner of his mouth upwards, "don't thank me. you always take care of us, someone has to take care of you."

you pull him towards the automatic doors, listening as the chime of the robotic voice welcomes you in. the sight of the noodles you were craving makes your stomach growl. "c'mon! i know what i want to get!"

even though this was supposed to be a break from making music, chan can't help the melody that repeats in his head as he watches you, still gripping onto his hand, drag him through the isles.

he knew he had to make something for you, as a token of appreciation.

A WEEK LATER⎯

it had been sometime since you had last been in the studio. all of the songs and planning for the comeback were completed and now you all were in the final stages, preparing for the promotions.

thankfully, today was your day off.

it had been raining nonstop, the water covering the streets and sidewalks like a blanket. even though it was 4 o'clock in the evening, clouds covered the sun making it seem more like 6.

it was perfect for a nap.

as you were getting into your bed your phone on the dresser vibrates and you grudgingly get up to retrieve it. you tap it once and the notification center pops up;

chanツ now

what would i do?.mp4

as soon as you open the message, a little confused, another text roles in.

a couple weeks ago i was going through a rough patch of overworking myself to the brink of exhaustion. i hadn't ate, bathe, or slept properly in days before. then you came and convinced me to take a break, to take care of myself. before you joined the group i was always worried about taking care of the others that i never took care of myself. you helped me realize that. i'm not trying to belittle the others for their self-awareness skills but you are the first in a long time to take care of me like that. and it had me thinking. what would i do without someone like you? and despite you telling me to take a break this came to mind and i couldn't stop myself. so y/n, this goes to you. thank you for taking care of me that night. i hope you know that i will always take care of you too.

love, bangchan.

and as you listen to the track you can't help the tears that follow.

thank you for reading <3

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Datura Pt 16

Summary: The final confrontation with Hybern comes to a head.

Content Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Character Death (or two, sorry Beron), Suggestiveness ;)

Author's Note: I'm going to be totally honest, I have a terrible time writing endings, they have never been my strong suit, I like to keep things open ended so that they can just go one forever and ever. So, I intend to write a couple more chapters as part of the epilogue, I'm thinking a mating ceremony? Some fluffy goodness to make up for all the angst? Let me know what you guys want to see :) (I've posted a poll here for ideas as well )

Previous Chapter/ Master List

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Rhys is screaming, roaring, your name.

You should be dead. 

You’re certainly cold, as cold as you had been the first time the Cauldron’s powers had filled you, but this time, this time there is an end to it. This time you can claw your way to the surface and grab some air. This time you do not fight it, do not surrender to it, you grab hold of that icy power and draw it in like a breath. And when your lungs are full, you release that breath with a scream that blows the roof off the Temple.

You’re not dead at all.

Helion lays with his hands over his head at your feet, completely unharmed.

You rub at the spot on your chest where you took the brunt of the blast, the only real discomfort you still feel from the whole ordeal.

Rhys grabs you by the shoulder, shouting your name, terror shooting down the bond. 

“I’m ok,” you assure. “Although, I do kinda have heartburn now.”

Helion raises himself back up as both Azriel and Cassian slam into the ground beside you. 

“Mother’s Tits!” Cassian bellows.

You burp from the pressure in your chest.

“How the fuck?” Azriel says to Rhys.

Your mate is staring at you like he can’t believe any of this is real, and you’re honestly inclined to believe the same. Just a couple months ago you had fully believed you were just some farm girl, and now, here you stand, a full fledged Death Goddess. 

“What was that?” Rhys demands none of them in particular, his face awash with worry.

You roll your shoulders, strangely more confident than before. You can take that, you can take whatever else it’s got. “The Cauldron and I have unfinished business.”

The words are barely out of your mouth before an arrow comes whizzing past your ear. That was why it had been so empty; why cast spells and lay boobytraps when Hybern could simply pull his men back and wait for you all to enter so he could blast you away with the Cauldron?

Both Cassian and Azriel turn to face the Temple, large wings outstretched like shields as they raise their gloved hands. Ruby and cobalt siphons gleam on their hands and a moment later, they channel a blast of energy at them, turning the first wave of Hybern’s archers to ash. 

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say they’re only out to let the Cauldron recharge,” Helion warns.

You rub at your chest again. “I need to get inside.”

“No-” Rhys starts, his hand still gripping your shoulder as he reconsiders the path ahead. His brothers push forward, their fine-tuned energy blasts clearing a path. For the moment, the Cauldron is quiet. It will not stay that way.

“It has to be me,” you say, turning away from the destruction ahead of you to look at him. It’s not fair that either of your lives have turned out like this, that the time you’ve had together has been so full of hardships. If things were different, maybe you would have wandered into the Night Court on your own, bumped into him in the city somewhere and the bond would have clicked. You could have had something simple, gentle, not these dangers and battles and pain between you. 

“Let us be done with this,” there’s really not time for this conversation, but if anything goes wrong, you couldn’t bear any more regret. “So we can go home, together, like we bargained.”

You flex your hand, where the ink no longer resides, before brushing your hand over his cheek. “I love you, Rhys.”

“No good-byes,” he whispers, violet eyes heavy. 

“We’ll have more time,” you promise. “And I am grateful for what we’ve already had.”

“Even if I did make a mess of it?” He teases, though his voice breaks.

You stretch up on your toes and kiss him gently on the lips. “I suppose I can find it in me to forgive you.”

A shiver runs down your spine as you feel the Cauldron powering up again, its voice a siren call in your mind as it beckons you. You pull away from your mate. “Pull them back.”

“Cassian! Azriel!” He barks and the two Illyrians turn ever so slightly to look at him in confusion, their glittering energy shields parting just enough to let a body through. 

You don’t wait for Rhys to give them anymore orders, you sprint through that gap as fast as your legs can carry you. 

“Come. Sweet Death. Come play, Little Goddess.”

It’s Cassian that yells for you to wait. Cassian who would have taken that next hit, those beautiful wings shredded to pieces had you not been standing directly between him and the next blast. The cold consumes you, makes every breath feel like swallowing glass, but still, you keep putting one foot in front of the other.

The next wave of soldiers comes barrelling forward, and you take all that borrowed energy clustered in your chest and hurl it at them. There’s no way to track how many bodies you turn to mist, a splatter of blood across your face their only remains. The blast takes another part of the Temple off, giving you a path right to where the Cauldron still remains mounted atop the altar. Its three legs have been fused to the ancient stone, Hybern shielded behind it, his men in a semi-circle around the sides.

“Playing hero now, daughter?” He snarls.

“Come to me.”

You open your arms wide as you stalk towards him, a green mist from the Cauldron pouring out over the edges. Even as he swirls a hand through the fog, when It speaks, he offers no reaction, even under his control, the words are meant for you alone. In the end, fate has drawn the two of you together. 

“Give me your best shot!” You challenge.

“Closer. Come closer. Let me hold you.”

The next blast is stronger, pushing you backwards as debris from the now crumbling Temple rains down on your head. Outside, the clash of swords and cries of fighting men ring out. So Hybern is not foolish enough to keep all his men in one place, though that is a battle for the High Lords. You turn your attention away from the noise, swallowing the icy fire that bubbles in your chest from the influx of power, and hurl it back at the altar so hard the ancient stones crack. 

For the first time, Hybern falters, stepping back from the Cauldron with a hand over his face to shield himself from the blast. His men had not been so fortunate.

“You cannot withstand this forever,” Hybern warns.

“And these blasts are not without cost, I’d imagine,” you return. “How long can you hide behind your Cauldron?”

He swirls a hand over the fog, offering a soft chant that makes the Cauldron bubble and groan. The floor trembles as the Cauldron shakes and spits out another attack, this time going wide and brushing the side of your face as it blows the roof off the place. 

Your face is not as sturdy as your chest and the assault makes your ears ring, your right eye blurry. Overhead, Cassian’s Illyrian legion swoops and circles, the strange gems atop their hands pulsing like a dozen flashing lights. 

You shake your head to clear your vision as you turn back to your father. “Afraid to face me without your precious weapon?”

He growls, teeth flashing as he grips the lip of the Cauldron with both hands.

“Come play. Come free me.”

His hands twitch from holding the ancient metal, yet he won’t let it go. “You forget how powerless against me you were before, Daughter.”

You get a step closer, the stones shaking beneath your boots. The more blasts you take, the more stiff your body feels, there is only so much abuse you can take. “Before you released me of whatever limits my powers had, you mean?” You sneer. “I’d say we’re evenly matched now.”

“You’re out of your element!” He shouts.

The Cauldron pulses like a heartbeat, the metal screaming now and you have enough time to reach out a hand and catch it in your palm, even as your arms scream in protest. It is a concentrated effort to push that power back out of your palm, even more so to aim it back at his head. 

There isn’t time for him to shield, forcing him to take a step back away from the Cauldron, finally removing his hands from the lip. You waste no time in rushing forward and getting your own hand around the ancient metal. Instantly, it freezes you in place, the icy depths of whatever magic swirls within latches on like a thousand tiny hooks, fusing itself to you. It takes of you as you take of it, the exchange even and ceaseless.

You poke at the bridge between your mind and Rhys. “NOW!”

A blast of your father’s power slams into the back of your hand as he screams, trying to tear you away, but even though your skin breaks, blood spraying, you couldn’t let go if you wanted to. This is exactly where the Cauldron wants you and it’s exactly where you will stay until it’s done. 

“Yes! Finally! Play with me,” it purrs as Rhys and Helion burst into the room. Light and dark swirl around them like whirlwinds, blowing the walls away until the only thing left standing in the entirety of the Temple is the altar.

“Show me what you want,” you tell it as you try drawing it’s icy power into yourself. There is no end to it; no beginning either. It is you and you are it and the more you take into yourself, the more of you it steals. The mist it emanates slithers around your wrists and up your arms as your own darkness dips within it’s center and disappears. 

“We are made to destroy,” it sings. 

A scream tears out of you as it pushes more of itself into you, the wave of energy that escapes out your mouth shooting up into the sky, nearly taking out some of the Illyrians still swooping overhead. 

A shadow of Rhys’s power slithers into your mind, wrapping around you in a warm embrace. “You can do this. Fight it!”

“Show me what you want,” you insist as Hybern turns his attention away from you to face the High Lords running towards him. They are both powerful swordsmen, but the movements are stiff from years of disuse, their steps faltering as he pushes them back away from you with his own sword.

“He seeks to destroy,” the Cauldron purrs as if the thought makes it happy.

“Not him,” you say through your now chattering teeth. “You. What do you want?”

Rhys roars in pain behind you as Hybern clips his shoulder and Helion rushes to his aid, large broadsword angling for your father’s throat. Hybern catches Helion at the wrist and twists, snapping the Lord’s shoulder in one swift motion.

The Cauldron hums as if thinking. “Destruction is our way…”

“No,” you snarl. “You were once the instrument of life in Prythian! Destruction is not your only way, it is not my only way. If I can do more than kill, if I am more than a monster…” A monster would not have beaten Amarantha, would not have saved your mate, would not have fallen in love. Monsters do not feel, do not love. You brush a mental hand over the bond and draw another steadying breath, even as the cold seeps into your bones; makes your whole body shake. “We do not have to be weapons.”

From the treeline surrounding the ruins of the Temple, more and more of Hybern’s soldiers make it past the aerial units filtering above, clashing with the combined powers of the High Lords. Beron keeps them temporarily at bay with a wall of fire, but you can see the flames wavering, his weathered face pale and slick with sweat. Kallias and Tarquin remain back to back, using their powers to hurl projectiles over the wall of flame, holding steady, even as the sound of the labored breathing floats your way on the wind. They are holding, but it will not last forever. You need to even the playing field. 

“Please. Help me stop him,” you beg. “I will give you whatever you want.”

“I like this new game,” the Cauldron purrs.

The flow of power between you and it has not faltered, you keep pulling more and more of it in as it continues to take it back. Your knees give out beneath you, hands still fused to the lip as a cold sweat beads off your forehead. 

“Please,” you rasp. “Tell me what you want!”

Beron goes down with an arrow in the chest, his limp body collapsing into the earth so hard you feel the tremble of the impact. The Cauldron chuckles beneath your palms, still delighting in the destruction. 

“Helion!” Rhys roars as Hybern drives his sword across the Lord of Day’s stomach, his own blade swinging at Hybern’s neck.

You give the Cauldron a shake, “Come on! This can’t be what you want!” 

Rhys takes an elbow to the nose, blood spattering as Hybern outmaneuvers him, and barely manages to throw himself out of the way of the following strike, the blade leaving a gash in his fighting leathers. From overhead, Cassian spies the fight and angles himself away from his troops to come help, but it feels as if he’s moving in slow motion. Somehow, whether it’s the Cauldron’s power or the bond, you know something is about to be very, very wrong.

You grit your teeth, claws digging into the metal of the Cauldron and pull, skin peeling away as you get a hand off the lip to blast as much power as you can in Hybern’s direction. If the Cauldron will not help you, you will do this yourself. Nothing is going to take your mate from you ever again.

Cassian banks hard to avoid the blast, his cursing just audible over Hybern’s screaming. You’d known, just by the feel of it within your chest that this kind of power would be lethal, but watching as it burns through flesh and muscle, leaving nothing but exposed, stark white bone is enough to make your stomach rise into your throat. 

Hybern’s sword turns to ash in his skeletal hand, still raised above Rhys’s head in what would have been a killing blow. It’s nothing but bone all the way down to his shoulder, chunks of his armor blasted away, bits of blistered skin visible from where the blast had gone a little wide. A little to the left and you would have taken him and Rhys out. 

Your father gapes at you, more nightmare now than male.

“This is more fun than a bargain,” the Cauldron purrs. Perhaps it has been corrupted beyond repair, perhaps it can only be good when wielded by the right creature. Perhaps only the Mother had managed to tame the magic within and had left it an empty shell of what could have been.

You stop trying to take anything from it, and when you do, it lets your other hand free without injury. You slump against the altar as Rhys drives his sword through Hybern’s throat. Blood gurgles from his lips, eyes vacant and staring at the Cauldron as if in one final plea for help, before he falls face down in the grass.

The chaos that ensues in the next couple minutes feels like a fever dream as the Night Court’s forces drive the rest of Hybern’s away. Tarquin rushes to Helion, hands glowing in a strange light as the Spell-Cleaver instructs him on how to use his water magic to heal the gaping wound in his stomach. There is no saving Beron, Thesan confirms from where the dead man lies. 

Rhys rushes to your side, where you remain slumped against the Cauldron, eyes blurry as the world spins around you. He cups your face, gently tapping at your cheeks. “Hey, hey, stay with me! You’re ok. You did it!”

You lean your face into his touch, “Don’t suppose you know how to get rid of this thing, huh?”

The Cauldron hisses in response. 

He laughs, half-delirious with relief as he kisses your nose, your cheeks, your forehead. “We won! It’s over.”

It’s over.

You touch your forehead to his, body heavy, but laughing now yourself. “We did it!”

Azriel and Cassian come running as soon as it’s clear to do so, wings tucked tight behind them. “Everybody ok?”

Rhys kisses you, his lips still bloody, but you don’t have it in you to care as you return it. It is finally over; you are more than ok.

------

You watch the sunset across a glittering horizon, the warm rays bouncing off the rolling waves lapping at your ankles. The sand is warm beneath your feet, a supernatural ward keeping the water cool instead of frozen like it should be this time of year. 

Footsteps sound behind you, the only warning you get before strong arms wrap around your waist. Your mate’s breath warm against your skin as he kisses your neck. “Enjoying the view?”

Any sight with sunlight is a luxury, you savor every wisp of wind, every ray of sunshine against your still pale skin. It will be awhile before either of you get any color back.

“More so now that you’re here,” you say with a grin as he places another kiss on your cheek. 

He’d wanted to go straight back to the Night Court, but the matter of the Cauldron still remained. Eventually the High Lords, and the newly crowned Eris, had decided it needed to be returned to its resting place with the nephilim Miriam and her husband Drakon, who had suffered heavy losses when Hybern had marched through and stolen it. Under Helion’s instructions, the Cauldron’s legs had once again been cleaved and separated, and in doing so, the ancient artifact had finally, blissfully, gone silent. Rhys, long standing friends with Miriam and Drakon, had offered to take this piece back before returning home. It seemed only fitting that you followed to ensure no one else attempted to wield it.

“This doesn’t feel real,” you say after a moment of silence, only the crashing of the waves between the two of you.

Rhys settles against your back, body sturdy and warm. His pulse against you should be enough to convince you that this isn’t a dream, but you’re still waiting for something else to jump out from behind the rocks dotting the landscape and surprise you. Any minute now the dream will crumble and once again, stone walls will cover every inch of your surroundings.

“We’re out,” Rhys promises.

You wait, expecting to hear heels clicking against stone or a buzzing of a collar against your throat. It’s a miracle you can stand in the water at all without feeling your throat close up. 

You lace your fingers with his, holding them tight where he rests them against your stomach. “We’re out,” you whisper.

Cassian and Azriel had come along, their boots heavy against the fine sand as they approach. 

“We leaving or what?” Cassian asks.

Azriel punches him hard in the shoulder. “I thought I told you to give them a minute!”

“They’ve had plenty of minutes, any longer they’re gonna start making out, and I, for one, would like to be somewhere far away before that happens.” Cassian returns.

“It’s like dealing with toddlers,” Rhys whispers in your ear.

You release his hand so you can turn in his arms, palms flat against his chest. Most of the damage inflicted during the fight is healed, though there is still some bruising around his eyes from his broken nose. It’s unfair that he’s still the most beautiful male you’ve ever seen, even with the bruising. 

“You know you’ve missed their antics.”

He grins, violet eyes glittering like a thousand stars and you promise yourself you’ll do anything to keep that look on his face. There has been enough pain and grief to last the rest of your lives.

“That I have,” he admits.

“Then we should probably get the little Illyrian baby back before he gets hungry,” you retort.

“Hey!” Cassian scoffs.

Rhys hums his approval as he places a gentle kiss on your lips. “I do have some bargains to fulfill, after all.”

You glance down at your bandage covered hands as if you can see the lack of ink there, the destroyed bond still tender, even now. 

He draws his hand up to give yours a squeeze, before bringing it to his lips. “Broken or not, I intend to keep it.”

“We could make some new ones I’m sure,” you muse.

“Can we please leave?” Cassian whines. 

Rhys ignores him, eyes glinting in challenge. “Like what?”

“I don’t know, I seem to recall a few suggestions you had…”

His lips are on yours again, hungry and wanting and the tether between you burns hot. “I’ll make as many bargains as you’d like, Darling.”

“Home first,” you force yourself to pull away and say, because if you keep letting him kiss you like that, neither of you will be leaving the beach. 

He grins, shoulders rolling back, and from behind him a set of massive, bat-like wings appear. You gape, even as your head spins with the recollection that you had once thought there was something missing between the gaps of the tattoos on his back. The leathery membrane stretches out behind him like one would stretch their arms, fluttering slightly in the evening breeze. 

You reach out a hand to give them a inquisitory touch and he swings them out of reach. “Not here,” he purrs in your ear.

Before you can ask why, he sweeps you up into his arms and launches into the sky. You toss your arms around his neck and squeeze your eyes shut as your stomach lurches into your throat.

“It’s more enjoyable if your eyes are open, Darling,” he laughs, wings beating hard to catch the right draft that will take you to the Night Court.

“I like to keep my stomach where it belongs, but thanks,” you mutter, burying your face in his neck to hide from the wind. 

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of heights?” He teases.

“Heights? No. Falling? Yes,” you return.

“You know I’d never drop you,” he says in all seriousness.

You let out a huff of annoyance, because damn him, his right and you know it. After everything, there is still no safer place to be than in your mate’s arms. You open one eye, then the other, and take a shaky breath before finally turning your head to the side to see the vast expanse of open sky around you. 

The sun has slowly set, the sky awash in purples and blues as the first bit of stars appear in the sky. Rhys tilts and dips around the fluffiest clouds you’ve ever seen in your life, but you can’t help yourself from removing your arm from around his shoulders to try and touch one. They’re a lot more wet than you anticipated them being. 

“I never thought I’d see this again,” Rhys whispers.

You kiss his cheek, flooding the bond with as much warmth as you can. It’ll be easier, once you’ve fully accepted it, and you plan to, once things are a little more settled. It would be a lot for him to return home to, you want to give him some time to just be home before tackling a new heightened sense of emotions and all that comes with being mated, but you already have a few ideas on how you want to go about it. For now, you’ll keep this thing between you simple and not overwhelming. 

“Thank you, for getting us out,” he says.

“I didn’t do that much,” you reply. “We did it together.”

“It was all you,” he returns. “I think that collar messed up your memories a little.”

“My memories are fine,” you retort with an eye roll, even though he can’t see it. “We did it together, as we planned to. As we’ll do with whatever comes next.”

He grins as he follows a draft downwards, three mountain peaks coming into view. Somehow, you can feel in your chest when you cross the border, as if you very bones know that this is where you’re meant to be. He glides lower, letting you view the snow flecked landscape beneath you, grinning as he takes in the way you devour his court with your eyes. “Welcome to the Night Court.”

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[moodcrab]

Fixing Delphine

This bitch.

I actually like that they made a character that is on your side but is somewhat unlikable, Delphine is Team Dragonborn, but she's not really one of the good guys. And that's cool, conflict means drama. So what's the problem? Well unfortunately, this drama is surface level and isn't used to drive the story, so It's kind of just annoying.

People oversimplify their hatred of Delphine into "She wants you to kill Paarthurnax," because unlike Delphine, people actually like Paarthurnax. Understandable, but barely scratches the surface. We'll get to The Paarthurnax Dilemma in time, but that quest is a symptom, not the illness itself.

If I could sum up Delphine in a word it would be "inconsistent." For example, she's a fugitive waging a one woman war on the Thalmor from the shadows, who's only survived this long from sheer paranoia - but she also uses her real name and leaves a note in Ustengrav for whoever happens to pick it up with directions and a pass word to her secret hide out.

She needs to go through her super secret contact Farengar to use the Jarl's resources to go into Bleak Falls Barrow, a tutorial level dungeon she can see from her house, and she's impressed that you did it - but she also goes personally to the other side of the country to delve alone into the massive Ustengrav to steal the Horn of Jurgan Windcaller, no issues, just a quick in and out twenty minute adventure.

She takes the fact that you found her Ustengrav note as proof you're the Greybeard's new guy and not some Thalmor plant even though she herself, a non Dragonborn, had also completed Ustengrav and taken the horn proving it's totally possible. She even points this out in her own dialogue then demands we prove who we are, even though that was the whole point of the Ustengrav note. It's also a pretty big assumption that just because I'm the guy the Greybeards call Dragonborn that I can't ALSO be with the Thalmor.

We are left with this awkward sense that the writers are flailing to make us think this woman is competent and objective, without actually having her do anything that clever. Just act like the dumb thing was smart and have her act like a cocky brat if questioned about it.

Inconsistency. It's her thing. Does she hate the Thalmor? That would make sense given what we know about her. But that gets dropped half way through the main story and suddenly she hates The Greybeards, for absolutely no reason at all. She gives a reason, but it's bullshit.

In her own words, "If the greybeards had their way, the dragonborn would sit on a mountain talking to the sky." But that's not true is it. We know The Greybeards, they encouraged us to fulfill our destiny. Even if you say you want to follow their Way of the Voice, they'll be glad to hear it but warn you not to let it get in the way of what needs to be done. Delphine even uses Tiber Septim as an example, which is even stupider because The Greybeards actively encouraged Tiber to conquer Tamriel. Have I read more in game books than the dialogue writers??

But that's not the end of it, when it becomes convenient for the plot this hatred is flipped once again from The Greybeards onto dragons. Not Alduin. All dragons. Despite the fact that, as a Blade, she should know about Nafaalilargus, a dragon ally of the Empire and the Blades for thousands of years, and the Blades don't just indiscriminately kill all dragons no matter the circumstances, and that Tiber Septim himself almost certainly met Paarthurnax at some point, she suddenly seems to be acting like she has a personal grudge against dragons. Which brings us to the Paarthurnax Dilemma...

See here's the thing, you could easily write off the frustration everyone feels towards this quest as Bethesda's crappy design, where there is no conclusion other than to kill Paarthurnax, or else leave an unfinished quest languishing in the menu. Bethesda apparently didn't consider the idea that anybody would actually prefer to turn on the Blades, even though the Blades have become a bit of a running joke among the fans, or that anyone would take umbrage with Delphine giving out orders and ultimatums.

But no, it's so much worse than that. Delphine being a surly unlikable c u n t from the day we met her is one thing, but the fact that she has been wrong about almost everything she's ever said in game, and still having the AUDACITY to treat us like her work bitch and us never, not once, getting the opportunity to put her in her place... That's not poor quest design, that's the game gaslighting us.

Let's do a quick list of every one of Delphine's theories, and how many were actually correct shall we:

You are not the Dragonborn ❌

The Greybeards shouldn't be trusted to identify a Dragonborn ❌

The dragons aren't just coming back, they're coming back to life ✅

The Thalmor have something to do with the dragons returning ❌

Esbern is dead ❌

The Greybeards just want the Dragonborn to sit on a mountain and meditate ❌

The Greybeards wanted Tiber Septim to just sit on a mountain and meditate ❌

Paarthurnax, having lived in exile for thousands of years, deserves corporal punishment ❌

As ACTING Grand Master of the Blades, she gets to boss around the Dragonborn ❌

She deserves a seat at the peace negotiations ❌

And these are just the things that are factually wrong, leaving aside opinions on her morality and shitty attitude. This is the woman the game presents to us as a shrewd strategist.

BUT I CAN FIX HER!

Like I said I like the idea of a character who is on your side but is somewhat unlikable. It actually won't take much to make Delphine endearing to the fans. We have to do a Boromir on her. A Lot of people dislike Boromir throughout the Fellowship of the Ring but weep at his death. We have to tweak three things to have the same thing happen to Delphine:

1. Make her actually competent and useful so that while we don't agree with her we can see why she does the things she does, and desire to keep her around.

2. Have her mistakes called out and have consequences.

3. Have her redeem her mistakes with a badass honourable death.