#this is a bit of a stretch assuming they have certain things like nuts and root vegetables

[dooblebugss]

Hey so I know you have food headcanons, can you tell us any headcanons you have for hallownestian desserts or snacks?

Desserts:

The pragmatic answer would be 'not a lot'. Sugar would have to be sourced and processed from some form of plant matter; roots, sap, berries, etc. I'd imagine some of the plants in the Queen's Gardens or Greenpath could hold some, but the area near the Blue Lake may be cold/moist enough for something similar to a sugar beet.

Oh, and honey, but that might be problematic unless Hive Knight allows it (or if hes dead. take whatever ig). Wine is also another option but I assume most of it is loooooooong gone by that point.

Assuming they have some sort of flour (my guess would be something similar to acorn flour or potato flour, assuming they have nuts and root vegetables), they could make a few basic desserts!

Snacks:

Mmm trail mix! Definitely a lot of preserved meats, nuts, dried fruits.

[0hcicero]

So I just started reading A Court of Thorns and Roses (audiobook), and am I the only one who is wondering if the author did any research into poor subsistence living or the lives of peasants? Because wow, I know Feyre’s family used to be rich, but if that was 8 years ago and y’all are poor as dirt now, somehow in the intervening period you might have learned:

- trap lines in the winter are far superior to active hunting. It burns less calories, you can use it with fish and land animals, and it will save you from frostbite bc instead of sitting in a blind for hours, you can go to your lines at certain times and head home, or drive animals toward your lines.

- buying flower seeds - or any garden seeds - is a suckers game when you’re poor. You only really need to buy seeds once!! Once you harvest, you let stuff ‘go to seed’ and then you collect it and store it for the winter, often trading seeds with your neighbours.

- they let things actively RUN OUT before doing anything about it. That’s absolutely buckwild if you’ve ever been poor — when you’re poor, you know how to make a meal stretch, and you DO IT.

- there is hunting, but no gathering?? This family has not stored any veg for winter, but neither do they go gather mushrooms, rosehips, roots, tubers, nuts, or even fucking bark?? What happened to their cottage garden?? Was it just flowers?! Were they that rich that they don’t understand that a garden produces food? Did they close their eyes as they walked past all their peasant neighbours and their gardens? Bc that’s maybe the wildest thing I’ve seen from both a historical and a ‘grew up so close to dirt poor you couldn’t tell the difference’ perspective!

- She left a whole ass Giant wolf carcass when her family is starving. Nah nah nah no that is the universe smiling on you when you’re subsistence! You will make a travois or somehow find a way to tie that to you and drag it along - that’s double the food, and possibly more money, because you could live off the wolf (which I assume does not taste great) and sell off some of the deer (which is delicious).

- she didn’t at least do a basic clean of her kill out in the woods?! She did not tan the hides?! Y’all, you do not want to be cleaning any kill on the kitchen table. Why? Because cleaning involves removing the intestines and stomach. That means shit and piss and food digestion in different stages, and the gases produced. You do that *outside*, typically at least close to where you made your kill, because you don’t want to have to have any…spills, and because it makes things a bit lighter to carry. Butchering? For sure do it on a table, but cleaning is an outdoor chore. Also, tanning a hide is not just skinning a creature! It’s scraping all the membranes off it, stretching and drying it, and curing the skin - sometimes with smoke, but often with a pretty gross solution (often including brain oil, and historically, I believe urine and/or feces, and other things with the right chemical components). It’s not a simple or quick task!

- soups, pottages, stews, with dried lentils, beans, or peas would have been the staple meals (depending on the climate and environment, but it feels fairly British thus far). Just having roasted venison (def not the best way to eat venison just from taste alone) would likely be a very very rare occurrence, because, as noted earlier, they’re so poor they would need to make it stretch. You would cure it or dry it or turn it into sausage. You would use it sparingly within a meal, not to serve as the whole meal.

- the market. If you were poor, you would likely be a stranger to spices, but not to salt. Salt is deeply necessary to survive in that period, as it’s one of the only ways of safely processing and storing meat with any longevity. And? If you got the money that they did while being as poor and as starving as they were? The first thing you would do — even if you were the most stupid rich person before then — is stock up your stores of dry goods! Flour, salt, honey, dried beans/peas/lentils, vegetables that store - onions, squashes, potatoes, root vegetables like carrots. It’s straight up Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs here - you will not give a shit about a new cloak before you give a shit about saying your hunger. They are said to be ‘starving’. Sorting out your survival comes before sorting out your fashion.

Anyways, this has been me for channel 4, reporting on anachronisms and misrepresentations in fantasy fiction. More news at 10.

[hotforharrison]

Teach Me (h.o. x reader)

Masterlist

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield/Reader

Summary: You want Harrison to teach you something, but you end up learning more than you ever bargained for.

Word Count: 3,591

Warnings: Smut, language

A/N: This is for a fic challenge issued by @londonspidey with the prompt “teach me.”

I’m posting it on Harrison’s birthday for a celebration!

Thank you to @skymoonandstardust and @worldoftom for being my cheerleaders and helping me along the way. You’re both amazing! <3

“Harrison?” you asked, sitting on the sofa next to him while you watched some random show he chose on Netflix. Normally, your tastes were pretty similar, but you were too distracted by the thoughts that had been plaguing you since your birthday last month to actually pay much attention to it.

“What’s up?” He glanced away from the screen over at you.

You took a deep breath, determined to bring up what had been weighing heavily on your mind. “Can I, uh, ask you a question?”

He raised his eyebrows waiting for you to continue. When you didn’t, he eventually broke the silence that stretched between you, bumping his shoulder against yours. “‘Course you can. You can ask me anything. You know that.”

“I just… how do I even put this? You know how you’re so good with... girls?” you finished lamely, cringing internally at yourself.

“Do you want my help with dating or relationship advice?” he guessed.

“Sort of? It isn’t really advice I’m looking for, at least not right now,” you responded.

“Then, what is it?” He placed a hand on your arm reassuringly. “You don’t have to be nervous. It’s just me.”

“Well, you know how I haven’t been the most… forthcoming about my relationship history?” you asked, biting your lip.

“Always thought that was a bit strange, considering we talk about everything else, but yeah, I noticed. Didn’t want to press, though. Do I need to kick someone’s arse for hurting you?”

“Oh no, nothing like that. The reason I haven’t talked about it is because there’s nothing to talk about. Literally nothing. No dates, nothing physical, just a whole bunch of nothing. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since my birthday. God, I’m so pathetic,” you admitted, hanging your head in embarrassment.

Harrison slipped a finger underneath your chin and lifted your head until you met his eyes, full of concern. “Hey, we’ll have none of that. You are far from pathetic, love. Would you like me to set you up with someone?”

“I could probably find someone to go on a date with on my own, and I’m pretty sure that would go well enough with the right person,” you said. “But, to be honest, the end of the date is what concerns me.”

“You don’t want someone to push your boundaries? I know some stand up people who are single and wouldn’t even think of trying anything with you before you were 100% ready,” he promised.

“No, that’s not the problem, not at all. I just don’t want to make a fool of myself by not even knowing how to kiss someone,” you confessed. “Like, what if everything went well on the date, both me and my date have a great time, and then my date never wants to see me again when we kiss good night because I’m so awful at it?”

He chuckled.

You glared at him.

“Sorry, darling. I know you’re being serious. I’m pretty sure what you’re worried about isn’t going to happen, at least not with anyone who’s worth dating. But kissing’s not that hard. I could give you some pointers,” he offered.

“That’s not what I wanted to ask for, well, not exactly at least.” You swallowed heavily. “Would you… teach me?”

His eyes widened when he realized the implications of what you were asking. “You really don’t want to waste your first kiss on me.”

“I don’t consider it a waste. I mean, most people have their first kisses by the time they’re what, thirteen or fourteen? And from what everyone has told me, it’s awkward, and sloppy, pretty much sucks, and you likely never see the person you kissed again after you’re finished with school. Kissing you can’t be worse than that, right?” you asked.

“I’d like to think I’m a better kisser than a kid in Year 9, and I’m not going anywhere, so yeah,” he said with a laugh, and then paused. “Still, though. Wouldn’t want you to have any regrets. You only get one first kiss.”

“I wasn’t saving it for anything special, promise. It just didn’t happen, and then continued not happening while the years passed with everyone else learning how to properly kiss, and then I was too worried about being so… inexperienced, and that brings us to today,” you told him glumly.

His expression was pensive for a few moments before he finally shrugged. “You already know I’m not seeing anybody right now, so that’s not an issue. And I haven’t had a decent snog in a while, so what the hell?”

“Uh, how do I…” you trailed off.

“Here, let me,” Harrison responded, cupping your face gently in his hands. 

You softly giggled when he pecked sweet little kisses from your forehead down to the tip of your nose, each cheek, until he eventually settled on a light press of his warm lips to yours.

He pulled back, and his unbelievably blue eyes met yours.

“That didn’t feel like a ‘decent snog,’” you teased.

He huffed out a laugh. “Just making sure you weren’t having any second thoughts.”

“No, not at all,” you reassured him. “Now, show me what you’ve got, Osterfield.”

He smiled and nodded, a hand reaching around behind your head to pull your lips to his again.

The chaste, tentative kisses were gone this time. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, and when you parted yours to grant him access, he quickly entered your mouth and brushed his tongue against yours eagerly.

The first thing you noticed was that he tasted like the beer he'd been drinking, the saltiness of the nuts he'd been snacking on, and something you assumed was uniquely Harrison. The combination was somehow intoxicating, more so than you ever thought it could be. 

You weren’t sure what you expected learning how to kiss with Harrison would be like, but you hadn’t ever wanted anyone so much as you did in this moment. It honestly surprised you when a moan escaped from inside you into his mouth. He flexed his fingers in your hair, and a moan of his own echoed yours before he pulled his head back slightly to speak.

“You can put your hands on me, you know?” he mumbled against your mouth.

Your arousal emboldened you, and you slid your hand from where it had been lying motionless on the sofa onto his joggers-clad knee and moved it up his thigh to reach for his dick.

He realized what you were doing and placed his hand over yours to stop it just short of your objective, squeezing it gently. “Not that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind before, but that’s definitely treading into regrets territory.”

Your mouth dropped open in surprise. “Wait, you’ve thought of me like that before?”

“Wouldn’t’ve kissed you if I hadn’t, and the regrets might not only be on your end,” he admitted, looking down where his hand still covered yours. “You can’t uncross some lines.”

You nodded and swallowed heavily. “I’m curious. Would you have wanted to cross that line, if this had happened… differently?”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “God, how we’re going about this is mad.”

“We could always start over,” you pointed out.

“Okay.” He looked up at you expectantly.

“I, uh, really like you, Harrison,” you started slowly.

“I really like you, too. Fancied you for ages,” he confessed.

“So, would you like to do something with me?” you continued.

“There’s a lot of things I’d like to do with you,” he responded, low and seductive.

It was completely unexpected, and you’d never heard that tone of voice before from him. You found you’d do almost anything to hear it again. “Please,” you whimpered, fingers subconsciously digging into his thigh where your hand still lay, forgotten.

“Since you asked nicely,” he teased, “but seriously, how far do you want to take this right now? I don’t want to get caught up in the heat of the moment and cross your boundaries.”

“How far do you want to take this?” you asked, unsure.

“That wasn’t an answer to my question,” Harrison replied.

“I… don’t know. This is embarrassing, but I’m so turned on right now, I can’t really think straight,” you told him. “I know I want you, though. I’m certain of that.”

“I’d feel like some sort of dick if I just, you know, gave you your first kiss and then rushed right into sex less than half an hour later,” he told you, “but at the same time…”

“Yeah, I know,” you agreed. “I feel like I might die if you don’t touch me, though. I’ve never been this wet before.”

He groaned. “Okay, first thing’s first. We’re taking this to the bedroom before one of the guys walks in on us.”

When you stood, he took your hand in his and led you wordlessly to his bedroom, quietly shutting the door when you were both inside. You’d been there before, even on his bed, but with the more intimate context this time, it made you a bit nervous.

“So, you want me to touch you first?” he asked.

“I don’t want to be selfish, but yeah, I’d like that,” you responded.

“‘S’not selfish at all,” he reassured you. “The act of touching you, and your reactions, and the way you feel, and taste, and smell -- I love that, and it’s all just going to get me that much harder.”

“You’re already hard?” Your surprise was evident.

“That’s what you took away from what I just said?” He chuckled. “To answer your question, well, I just made out with a gorgeous girl I’ve fancied for ages, who told me she wants me, too, and now she’s here with me in my bedroom. What do you think?”

“I- can I see it?” You tried not to sound too eager, but knew you very much failed.

He softly laughed. “Not quite how I planned to go about this, but…” He shrugged.

You sat on the edge of the bed and watched, rapt, as he pulled his shirt over his head, discarding it somewhere behind him. That was nothing new. You knew Harrison worked hard for his athletic physique and didn’t mind showing it off. Now, you could touch, though, and you definitely planned to, soon.

His joggers were next, pushed off at the same time as his turquoise boxer briefs to reveal something you hadn’t seen. His erection stood proud against his stomach, long and thick, or maybe it just seemed that way because you hadn’t seen one before?

“I’m not really sure how it measures up compared to other guys, and porn obviously isn’t a good frame of reference. I haven’t had any complaints from the other girls who have seen it?” he responded, amused, making you realize you’d been vocalizing your thoughts.

You reached out tentatively, slowly, to touch it, and you were relieved when Harrison moved your hand the rest of the way to wrap around the shaft.

“Wow, it’s really warm,” you commented, the first thing that came to mind.

He laughed. “Well, I’d be concerned if it were cold.”

You laughed, too, and smiled up at him. Now that you had him in your hand, you wished that you could remember what you’d heard and seen online in how to pleasure a man. It was easy to remember that men usually like blowjobs, though. That didn’t seem like it’d be too complicated, so you leaned forward to take the tip in your mouth and swirl your tongue around the head. The precum that had gathered there was salty and a bit bitter, but not intolerable.

You were rewarded with a pleasured groan as you started moving over his length with your hand and mouth slowly. 

“Whoa, I was supposed to make you feel good.” He made no move to stop you, though, and instead buried his fingers in your hair, stroking it lightly.

You carefully guided him forward so you could get on your knees on the floor at a less awkward angle for your neck. It didn’t take long to adjust to his girth in your mouth, and then you experimented in taking more of his length. You were disappointed that you couldn’t take all of him without gagging, not even close, but your hand was enough to take most of the rest. 

You sucked harder, which he seemed to like, and then started moving over his length faster, which he really seemed to like. If his reactions were any indication, basic blowjobs fortunately really weren’t that difficult, even if it was making your jaw a bit sore. Deepthroating and other more advanced techniques weren’t going to happen today, but he seemed happy enough, and that in turn made you happy.

When you glanced up, his eyes were closed, pleasure was evident in his expression.

“Babe, you need to stop. I’m about to come,” he warned you.

You decided to do the exact opposite of that, sucking him harder and moving faster.

He moaned loudly, gripping your hair tighter, but not painfully. He chanted your name between moans as he spilled into your mouth in several long spurts.

It wasn’t the greatest thing you ever tasted by far, and the consistency was just about as bad, but you managed to swallow it down, proud of yourself for that. You took a moment to move your jaw until the ache was gone. Hearing Harrison calling out your name in that desperate tone was entirely worth the less than pleasant parts.

You eventually glanced up at him, and he was looking down at you with a fondness you’d never seen before. “Did I do okay?”

“That was amazing. I never would have guessed you’d never done that before,” he praised. “Thank you so much, sweetheart. Now, come up here.”

You took his extended hand and let him pull you up onto the bed. “Do you want me to, uh, go brush my teeth or use some mouthwash or something?”

He responded to that with a roll of his eyes, and his lips were on yours again, tongue swiping into your mouth against yours, answering your question.

It amazed you while you were making out, he managed to gradually move you around and position your body underneath his without stopping. When he was done, he was between your spread legs, although you were fully clothed while he was naked. When you realized that fact, it struck you as funnier than it probably actually was, and you were reduced to a fit of giggling, pulling back from his lips.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, grinning down at you.

“You’re naked, and I’m not,” you answered before you started laughing again.

“Yeah, it is kind of funny.” He leaned back onto his knees in front you. “Do you want to change that?”

“I, uh…” You bit your lip nervously, feeling a little insecure.

“No pressure. If you want, I could put my clothes back on, too. Completely up to you,” he offered.

“No, it’s not that. You’re just, like, ridiculously hot, and I’m not on your level, and it’s making me feel self-conscious,” you admitted.

“Rubbish. You’re gorgeous. If anything, I’m not on your level,” he insisted. “I want to see you, all of you, whenever you’re ready. Doesn’t have to be now.”

You swallowed heavily and started to pull your shirt off.

“Wait!” he told you.

Immediately, you stopped, afraid he’d changed his mind.

“Let me,” he finished, gently moving you up to tug your shirt over your head and tossed it off the bed. Adept fingers unhooked your bra, and it joined your shirt. His already once again hard cock twitched as he looked down at your newly exposed skin.

You reached for his cock, but he batted your hand away.

“As much as I like the sentiment, let me make you feel good,” he said.

“But I want to-” you started.

“Please?” he interrupted. “Promise I’m going to enjoy it, too.”

You swallowed and nodded.

“Can I take these off?” he asked, slipped a finger underneath the waistband of your pants.

“Yeah,” you agreed, lifting your hips to help him slide your pants and panties down your legs and off, leaving you completely exposed. You fought the instinctual urge to cover yourself. This was just Harrison, Harrison who had seen you in much worse states than simply nude.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to do this, not right now, not ever if you don’t want to,” he reassured you.

“No, I want to. I’m just nervous,” you told him.

“Let’s work through it,” he suggested. “What specifically is making you nervous?”

You took a moment to collect your thoughts. "Just… what if I don't taste or smell good, or if the noises I make are weird, and I completely turn you off?"

"Don't think that's possible, love. Just calm down and let me make you feel good, okay? Gonna make you feel so, so good, promise."

You nodded. "Thank you."

After stroking your thigh until you completely relaxed, he spread your legs and positioned himself between. "Do you want my hand or mouth first?”

You wanted both eventually, but since that was already on the table, you didn’t really mind either way as long as he touched you somehow. “Surprise me.”

“Hmmm…” He paused, contemplating. “I really want to watch you so I think I’ll start with fingering you. Have you done this to yourself before?”

“I, uh…" you trailed off, a bit embarrassed.

One of his hands moved to hold yours. “I’m not going to judge you either way. It’ll just help me know how I should go about this.”

“I have a vibrator. It was a stupid, gimmicky, ridiculously pink ‘My First Time’ vibrator gag gift. I don’t think the gift giver ever intended on me actually using it, but I kept it in my nightstand drawer and got curious after a while. It’s not as big as, well, you are.” You gestured in the general direction of his dick for emphasis. “It’s maybe the size of a couple of your fingers?”

“I know the vibrator you’re talking about. I was partially responsible for that gag gift,” he admitted. “I honestly wondered if you’d ever used it with how embarrassed you were when you opened the gift. Still got off more than a few times imagining you burying yourself under the covers, trying to hide the noises you and the vibrator were making while you worked it against your clit and in your pussy, faster and faster until you came.”

You groaned. “God, Harrison, you can’t just say things like that. You’re not wrong, but it’s making me...”

Instead of responding with words, he traced a long, slender finger through your folds, swirling around your clit teasingly before sliding down and pressing into you easily. “Looks like it’s doing its job and making you wetter.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, breathily, a pleasured chill going down your spine when he crooked his finger and started stroking it in and out unhurriedly. You couldn’t help but to try to suppress the sounds that he was bringing out of you, still self-conscious.

“No, it’s okay, pretty girl. Let me hear you. Let me know how good I’m making you feel,” he urged.

“You’re making me feel so good, Harrison,” you told him, as he added another finger, those captivating pale blue eyes gazing intently into yours. You struggled to keep your eyes open when his thumb circled your clit slickly, pleasure coursing through you intensely. “Oh god, Harrison, please don’t stop. Feels so, so good.”

“I can tell you’re getting close. Don’t hold back, just let it happen, angel,” he encouraged.

You listened to Harrison’s sweet words and did just let it happen. It felt like falling over a precipice when you toppled over the edge into the most intense climax you’d ever experienced, fingers and toes curling into the sheets almost painfully, but god, you’d never felt such an amazing high in your life.

He worked you back down, slowing his fingers until he finally stopped and withdrew them completely.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled, opening your eyes to find Harrison smiling down at you.

“Good?” he asked.

“Oh yeah,” you confirmed, smiling back up at him. “Best orgasm of my life. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to move again.”

He leaned over to press a brief kiss to your lips. “I could deal with that. Don’t think I’d ever be able to bring myself to leave my bed again, though, with my gorgeous girl here waiting for me.”

You felt your cheeks flush at the compliment. “You’re so sweet, Harrison.”

He kissed you again. “Just telling you the truth. So, what would you like to do now?”

“Honestly? Maybe take a nap?” you suggested with a yawn. “After that, I’d like to try more… things.”

“Things, huh?” he responded with a smirk.

“Yeah, things,” you told him.

“Like wakeboarding?” he teased.

You chuckled. “Well, something will be getting really wet.”

“Think it already is. Let me check.” His fingers moved back down to run through your folds again, pausing to play with your clit for a moment. “Yep, still plenty wet.”

You moaned, then giggled. “You know, I’m feeling a lot less tired now. What do you want to try next?”

He dropped down to kiss you, longer this time, before trailing his lips over to your ear. “I think I’ll show you what my mouth can do.”

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[zaph1337]

Monster Hunter Rating 25: Yian Kut-Ku, the Strange Bird

Of all the monsters I’ve talked about so far, I think Khezu is the most popular one due to how much it differs from standard Monster Hunter fare. But Khezu doesn’t have a “holiday” named after it, so I think this next monster beats it out. Let’s talk about Yian Kut-Ku!

(How it appears in Monster Hunter Freedom 1)

(How it appears in Monster Hunter Online)

Appearance: Yian Kut-Ku is a Bird Wyvern, like Gypceros and the dromaeosaurs. I can’t tell what kinda bird has a beak like that, but it reminds me of the shoebill, though obviously their bills are longer. Besides the beak, the most distinct feature Yian Kut-Ku has is the pair of frill-like ears it’s fanning out. According to the wiki, those ears point up like that when it’s angered, so most of the time they’re bent back. It also has big claws on its wings, which have a blue membrane that already earns it points in my book. Other than that, it’s a basic wyvern, but I mentioned that it had a “holiday,” so I’ll elaborate on that here. See, Yian Kut-Ku’s Japanese name is Iyankukku, or イャンクック.  クック is the “kukku” portion, and the word for 9 in Japanese is ku, or  ク. So September 9th, or 9/9, is ku ku, and since Monster Hunter’s so big in Japan, 9/9 became Yian Kut-Ku day. In other words, it’s a pun. Gotta love the Japanese. Back to the appearance, well, like I said, it’s got a basic wyvern body type. The head’s the only thing different about it, but there doesn’t really need to be anything too different, so it’s kinda in the middle for me. 5/10.

Behavior: Yian Kut-Ku mostly live in forests and the like, though they occasionally go to volcanoes to feed on coal...SURE. Okay, the coal’s used as fuel for their flame sacs, while their actual diet consists mainly of honey, nuts, and insects, primarily Neopterons. They try not to get into fights with anything bigger, though, as they’re pretty easy to rattle. If they run into a predator, they’ll try to make themselves look bigger by fanning out their ears, stretching their wings, and making a lot of noise. Considering the monsters that prey on them, though, I wouldn’t be surprised if this doesn’t work a lot, which is why the main Yian Kut-Ku strategy for dealing with threats is “book it.” They get into territorial conflicts with their cousins, the Yian Garuga, which like to play cuckoo bird and lay their eggs in Yian Kut-Ku nests. Speaking of eggs, female Yian Kut-Ku grow feathers on their undersides during breeding season to help them incubate eggs. This breeding season is dependent on the weather, so if the weather in their territory is stable year-round, the breeding season will be that long, too. Once the eggs hatch, the chicks are fed insects and honey until a certain age, at which point they, uh...hm. The wiki doesn’t say what happens next. Well, that’s a let-down.

Honestly, Yian Kut-Ku just seem to be giant birds in terms of their behavior, which is fitting, I guess, but the most interesting thing about them is that they sometimes eat coal. I get that I shouldn’t expect every monster in this series to act totally unlike any animal in our world, but basic bird behavior isn’t that interesting to me. 4/10.

Abilities: Obviously, Yian Kut-Ku can fly, but like almost every flying monster I’ve gone over, they’re not that great at it compared to some other wyverns. They’re still decent fliers, but they do their best battling on the ground, where they can propel themselves backwards with their wings by creating buffeting winds, which kick up a lot of dust and stun (not the status condition) opponents. They use their tough beaks to bash hunters, but they’re best known for spitting fireballs, which are effective at killing small and weak prey/predators, but not very good at killing bigger and badder opponents.

Now, Yian Kut-Ku are pretty basic, but they kinda have to be for how early on you fight them in the first game. Which brings up something you might have been wondering: “why is Yian Kut-Ku so popular?” Well, according to the Twitch streamer I brought up in the Khezu review, Yian Kut-Ku is memorable for those who got into the series with the very first game because of how difficult it is to kill when you first fight it. At that point in the game, the only Main Monster you’ve killed is a Velocidrome, which has no ranged attacks and stays on the ground. But Yian Kut-Ku can fly and spit fireballs, and you have no experience dealing with something like that. As a result, Yian Kut-Ku is the first “wall” in Monster Hunter; the first major obstacle to progress new players face. Because of that, this normally “meh” monster is a lot more memorable to old-time fans.

Now, obviously, I’ve never played the first Monster Hunter game, or even seen any footage of it, but I can respect the legacy behind Yian Kut-Ku’s first battle, so even though the abilities themselves are only “okay,” I’ll be generous here and give it a 6/10.

Equipment: Yian Kut-Ku weapons are what you’d expect; they’re comical because they bear the monster’s design. For an example, here’s a pair of Dual Blades called Twin Kut-Ku:

Awww, they look so happy together. And derpy, but that’s just how Kut-Ku do. But now we get grumpy with the Light Bowgun called Kut-Ku Anger:

I can’t tell if it’s angry or not, but it’s certainly Kut-Ku. Now, most of the weapons are this silly, but there’s one more that I want to highlight: this Great Sword called the Chick Decapitator:

First off, this thing looks fleshy and gross. Second off, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, CAPCOM!? “CHICK DECAPITATOR!?” Are we playing Monster Hunter or “Can Your Pet?” Let’s...let’s just go to the armor now. This is the Blademaster set from Monster Hunter Freedom Unite:

Yeah, this looks about right. Like you’re wearing samurai armor made of spam. Props on giving the girl an actual helmet, though. Not a lot of armor sets do that. I don’t get what that blue rope on the male set’s supposed to do; I mean, I get it, it’s holding up what I assume to be a flap made of the Yian Kut-Ku’s ears, I just don’t know why it’s there. Is it meant to be a loincloth? Why does the guy wearing the armor need one? And why is the rope blue for him, but the little bits of rope on the girl’s armor are dark red? How many licks does it take to get to the end of these questions? Oh, we’re there? Okay then.

The Yian Kut-Ku equipment is fine. Most of the weapons are funny, but again, spam armor and Chick Decapitator. I’ll give this a 6/10.

Final Thoughts and Tally: Seems like a lot of Yian Kut-Ku’s appeal is lost on me, ‘cause I just think it’s average. I guess there’s a bigger difference between knowing its legacy and being a part of it than I thought. Alas, if you gave me the first Monster Hunter game when it was new in the states, then, well, I’d probably suck at it and grow up hating Yian Kut-Ku for stopping me from enjoying the game. Can’t win ‘em all, buddy. 5/10.

[chipper9906]

A New Type Of Normal

Pairings: Castiel/ Dean Winchester

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 2,124

Status: One Shot - Complete

Just a little fic I wanted to write based on a prompt I saw on OTP Prompt Generator. 

Summary:

Dean grumbled quietly to himself, adding another item to the ever-increasing list of supplies they’ll need to stock up on. “The supplies are getting depressingly low in here. I’m nearly out of beers, the meat-man needs to stock up on his meats-,”

“No more of the meat man!”

Prompt: Person A is about to leave to go to work. Person B asks Person A if they’ve forgotten anything, and Person A gives them a kiss. Person B turns red and opens their hand to reveal Person A’s keys/wallets etc, saying “I meant this, but thanks…”

 * * *

Dean blames it all on Sam.

He was perfectly content with showing Cas the classics: Tombstone, The Shining, Star Wars, Star Trek, Back To The Future, Ghost Busters. You know, classics. But Sammy wasn’t happy with that. No, he just had to go and put on all those crappy, cheesy rom-com’s and romances. And yeah, Dean could leave the room, but that’s just rude, right? It’s not like he wants to watch them or anything…

Honestly, Dean thought the romance films would go over terribly with Cas. Dean - and he’s sure Sam was too- was preparing for a multitude of questions from Cas about every damn scene. He’d already had a taste of that fun experience with ‘The Pizza Man’, so he was certain that Cas watching people try to flirt with each other would only confuse the poor guy even more.

But Cas didn’t ask questions.

In fact, Cas didn’t say one word throughout every one of them. Unless you counted his pleas for Dean to stay quiet (personally, Dean thought his jokes added a much needed comedic break). Cas would be glued to the tv, only blinking about three or four times a minute (not that Dean was watching or anything, just something he had noticed), making sure every bit of his attention was directed towards whatever couple was on the screen that night.

It must have been that. Watching ‘human courtship’, as Cas would put it, seeing the domesticity that comes to people who don’t know what’s really out there. That can be the only thing Cas got it from, surely.

“For a health nut, he sure does love stealing my beers…” Dean muttered into the cold air of the open refrigerator, bent down and peering into its fluorescent-lit interior. “Won’t eat real bacon, but he’s happy to chow down on the meat-mans burgers…”

“Dude, I’m like, right here. I can hear you, you know.” Sam called from behind the lid of his laptop, sat at the bunker’s kitchen table. Jack happily munched on his ���Krunch Cookie Crunch’ opposite Sam, amused eyes flickering between the two brothers.

“That’s coz’ you were meant to.” Dean slammed the refrigerator door shut behind him, turning and leaning against the gleaming silver door- thanks to a recent clean by yours truly, thank you very much.

“And for the last time,” Sam said with just a hint of defeat in his voice. “You’ve really got to stop calling yourself the meat man.”

“Listen, Sammy - you can say it means what you say it means, but I’m just gonna go on blissfully unaware, going by what I think it means.”

“That’s… that’s not how it works.” Sam tried to argue.

Jack’s entertained smile had turned to a perplexed frown at their conversation. “What does ‘meat-man’ mean?”

“Alright, that's-” Sam cleared his throat awkwardly, slowly closing the lid of his laptop down. “That’s a conversation I’m not ready for.” Sam shot a strained smile at Jack before turning his pointed gaze to Dean. “For neither of you.”

“Well someone’s gotta give the poor kid the birds and the bees talk.” Dean shot his own pointed glare back at Sam. “Or, we can just do it my way – give the kid a laptop, go to the internet and load up some good ol’ fashioned por-”

“From my own experience, I can tell you that’s a very poor way of learning such a topic.” Castiel’s voice filtered in from the doorway to the kitchen, the ends of his trenchcoat billowing behind him as he entered the room and descended the few steps to reach the kitchen table.  

“Eh, well, he’s your kid, Cas. ‘The talk’ is your job.” Dean turned back to the various cupboards behind him, trifling through the depleted looking pantry in search of something to eat. “Hey Sam, you seen where those little cheese cracker thingies went?”

“I think we might have finished those off last night. Or the night before?”

Dean grumbled quietly to himself, adding another item to the ever-increasing list of supplies they’ll need to stock up on. “The supplies are getting depressingly low in here. I’m nearly out of beers, the meat-man needs to stock up on his meats-,”

“No more of the meat man!”

Dean cut Sam off by pointing a finger at the colorful box of  ‘Krunch Cookie Crunch’ next to Jack’s half-eaten bowl of said sugary cereal. “-And I’m pretty damn sure that’s the last box of that stuff. And I bet you’ll be out by tomorrow morning, right?”

Jack’s eyes darted down towards the few soggy pieces of cereal floating in his bowl, eying up the amount of milk that remains before pulling the box of cereal closer and peering into its contents. “…Maybe…”

Castiel had opened his mouth to add something to Dean’s list, but Dean cut him off before he could get it out with a click of his fingers and a pointed finger directed at him. “And Cas needs more of that weird grape jelly stuff.”

Castiel watched Dean with a frown as he pulled a small notepad out of a drawer, scribbling down the loosely formed list he had in his mind. “What’s wrong with grape jelly?”

“Nothing wrong per se… it’s just a terrible flavor that tastes nothing like grape.”

“I like peanut butter and grape jelly sandwiches…” Castiel sounded so genuinely disheartened by Dean’s opinion of his flavor choice that Dean couldn’t even find it within himself to keep making fun of the poor guy.

“I know, Cas.” Dean told him with a soft smile. “That’s why I buy it for you.”

“You mean that’s why random credit card companies buy it for him.” Sam leaned back on the crickety wooden chair, stretching his arms behind his back until it made a satisfying ‘pop’.

“The day I get paid an honest day’s wages for the honest day’s work I do is the day I no longer rip off multi-billionaire companies and Uncle Sam.” Dean roughly folded up the shopping list and stuffed it into the back of his jeans pocket. “You wanna come with, Cas?”

“Me?” Cas asked, his brows pinched together as if he couldn’t fathom why Dean would ever want for him to tag along.

“Yeah, you.” Dean confirmed with a sharp, short chuckle. “Sammy makes me buy all the healthy crap that tastes equally crap whenever he comes along, and Jack throws so much stuff in the cart that he wants to try that I’m honestly worried it’s gonna max out the card every damn time we go grocery shopping.”

“Sorry…” Jack muttered sheepishly.

“Don’t worry about it.” Cas said to Jack, shooting him a wink. “Teasing is one of the only ways Dean knows how to show affection.”

Dean narrowed his eyes dangerously at Castiel, pushing himself off the counter and brushing his hands together. “You coming or what?”

“If you’ll have me.”

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head at Castiel's wording, steadily ignoring the red flush that he could feel creeping up the side of his neck. “Let’s get going, then. Come on, I’ll even let you drive Baby.”

Even Jack’s head whipped up, scarily in sync with Sam as they stared up at Dean in disbelief. “What?” Dean asked them. “Why are you guys looking at me like that?”

“You just asked Cas if he wanted to drive the Impala.” Sam said slowly, like Dean hadn’t heard and understood his own words.

“Yeah? So what? I let Jack drive Baby before, and he was only, what, a year and a half old?”

“I was dying.” Jack stated. “I assumed that had something to do with it?”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“I promise I’ll be careful with her.” Castiel interrupted Dean’s scramble to find an answer. Dean glanced up, seeing the conviction on his face that matched the tone of his voice, and knew Castiel meant that. Cas knew how important Baby was to him. Dean knew Cas would treat her right.

“See?” Dean gestured a hand towards Cas. “Besides, it’s about time Cas got to drive a real car, and not that vomit-beige colored monstrosity of his.” Dean caught sight of Cas’s affronted face out of the corner of his eye. This would quickly turn into another argument if he wasn’t careful. “C’mon, Cas. Let’s get going.”

Dean dug his hands into his front jeans pockets, clasping Baby’s keys in his fist, only to look up and see Castiel already partway out of the door. Cas wasn’t going to get very far in the Impala without her keys…

“Hey, Cas!” Dean yelled after Cas, who came to a somewhat stumbling halt in his steps. Cas turned on the spot once he had stopped, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow in question. “You forgetting something?”

Cas’s curious look only grew more intense. Dean could practically see the gears turning in the angel's head, trying to figure out what Dean was suggesting. There was a split second shift to his expression, one Dean could only describe as disbelief before Cas had schooled his expression back to neutral. Castiel had apparently figured out what he had forgotten as he moved towards him, and Dean pulled his hand out of his pocket, ready to pass the keys over to Cas.

Except, instead of stopping and holding out his hands for the keys, Castiel just kept getting closer to him. Dean didn’t even get a chance to remind Cas about personal space before ‘holy crap blue eyes super close’, and then Dean’s mind all but short-circuits when it registers Castiel’s chapped lips pressed against his. It didn’t last very long – or maybe it did, Dean might have blacked out for a bit – but it was long enough that Dean couldn’t brush this off as a funny case of ‘I tripped and my lips fell on yours’.

By the time Castiel had pulled away, Dean was sure his eyes were going to pop right out of his skull. A quick glance over to Sam confirmed he had seen the whole thing – at least, that’s going by the incredibly thinned straight-faced smile on his brother's face as he chokes down his laughter. Jack was smiling like this was completely normal, but then again, the kids always smiling – he might not have even noticed the show of affection right in front of him.

“Um…” Is the only word that came to Dean’s mind once it had restarted. Castiel’s face didn’t show any signs that he had realized how weird this whole situation was, and was waiting patiently for Dean to find his words. Dean slowly lifted his hand until it was sat between the two of them, uncurling his fingers to reveal the keys in his grasp. “I, uh… I meant these, but… thanks?”

Dean watched as Castiel's eyes focused in on the keys. To Cas’s credit, he didn’t seem in the least bit embarrassed by what he had done. He simply swept the keys out of Dean’s palms and pocketed them in his trench-coat with a soft smile. “I assumed you would pass them over once we were in the car, but thank you.” And then, to add insult to injury, Castiel leaned up and planted a kiss on Dean’s cheek like it was no big deal. He had done it so casually - as if it had been a part of their routine for years.

Dean could only stand there like an idiot and watch Castiel as he walked out of the room, beige trench-coat fluttering out of sight. After a few seconds of the most awkward silence Dean thinks he’s ever had to live through, Dean blurts out what’s on his mind. “What just happened?”

Sam’s chair scraped obnoxiously loudly as he stood, tucking it back under the table with that annoying strained smile of his still in place. “I’m not entirely sure but uh…” Sam stopped in front of Dean on his way out of the kitchen, giving his big brother a friendly pat on the shoulder. “I think Cas is dropping hints he wants a little more. Maybe. Possibly.”

Sam left the room, not after his words had completely thrown Dean for a loop. Now Jack was the only one left in the room with Dean, his customary gentle smile having been replaced with a contemplating frown, staring down at the bowl of milk in front of him like it held all the answers.

“What's wrong with you?” Dean asked, trying to get back to some sense of normality.

Jack looked up from his bowl, tilting his head in a way that was so very Cas. “I don’t get what Sam meant.”

“Oh.” Oh no…. “Uh, well, it’s-”

“I thought you and Cas were already married?”

[hghthai12]

How to Elevate Your Human Growth Hormone (HGH) Level

Human growth hormone (HGH) is a fundamental regular compound created by the pituitary organ. Its main role is to assist with body and muscle development, digestion, and cell fix. Additionally, the development chemical assumes a vital part in recuperating our bodies from wounds and sicknesses while boosting our exhibition in athletic preparation. For example, low HGH level equivalents carrying on with a diminished personal satisfaction because of lacking development, stoutness, and numerous other perilous diseases. Also, HGH is an indispensable segment for keeping your skin solid and youthful-looking to a critical degree as you age.

Thinking about its significance, it is vital to realize how to lift your human development chemical level with the end goal that your body stays fit as a fiddle, genuinely and something else. Luckily, there are a few procedures you can carry out in your everyday practice to do that normally, without representing your body to hazards experienced because of admission of unsafe items.

To place things into an additional specific situation, beneath are eleven verified approaches to build your HGH level the correct way:

1-Structure Your Sleeping Habits

The creation of human development chemicals is rarely straight. Studies demonstrate that the HGH is delivered in raised heartbeats before 12 PM and in early mornings during your profound rest. This basically implies that the creation of this important normal component predominantly relies on your body’s inside the clock and how well you structure your dozing propensities around the said clock.

In a mark of reality, on the off chance that you need to help your HGH level, the most ideal way is to plan how to upgrade long-haul chemical creation by further developing your sleep time schedule. For instance, here are a couple of basic things you can do to upgrade your profound rest capably:

Try not to burn through liquor or caffeine-based food sources or beverages late in the evening.

Turn on the orange light (understanding mode) on your contraption’s screens, keeping away from blue light openness before sleep time.

Peruse a book you like in the evening to quiet your brain and nerves.

Guarantee that your room is set at an agreeable temperature to upgrade your profound rest.

2-Lose the Extra Body Fat

Besides, the additional fat on your body, particularly around your midsection, essentially influences the creation of human development chemicals. For example, people with higher stomach fat are probably going to manage issues identified with HGH creation and an expanded pace of illnesses. That implies heftiness can be a tremendous obstacle holding you back from carrying on with a sound life for more than one explanation.

Despite the fact that this angle influences a bigger level of men than ladies, weight streamlining is key for the two sexual orientations in keeping up with the right HGH level. One examination saw that when a gathering of individuals with additional muscle to fat ratio shed pounds, they were speedily recorded to report expanded development chemical creation.

Hoist Your Human Growth Hormone (HGH) Level with practice diligently

3-Exercise Persistently

Coordinating focused energy practice into your routine is another of the best approaches to lift your human development level. The dramatic expansion in chemical creation is exposed to the kind of activity you enjoy and whether that is sufficient to keep your body fit as a fiddle.

Rehashed runs, weight preparing, span preparing, and high-intensity aerobics can particularly spike your HGH creation while amplifying fat misfortune. Notwithstanding, you can participate in a wide range of activities to keep up with your HGH level and don’t have to rely on a particular daily practice as long as you keep your body capably dynamic.

4-Use Original Genotropin by Pfizer

This is particularly helpful for individuals who are held back from living their best time because of the absence of human development chemical creation in their bodies. Besides, competitors hoping to advance their exhibition and further develop their bulk ought to likewise think about utilizing Genotropin, a peptide chemical that invigorates cell creation and recovery. Eventually, while any individual who needs to keep a solid HGH level can securely utilize the first Pfizer Genotropin, the portion may vacillate from one individual to another, as indicated by their age gathering and needs.

The extra advantages of infusing Genotropin into your body may incorporate energetic skin, quick fat consumption, worked on sexual execution, controlled sugar level, and general development upgrade. You should take note of that the vast majority of these properties cooperate to work on the creation of HGH.

5-Take Control of Your Insulin Level and Sugar Intake

Insulin likewise has a mind-boggling association with HGH creation. For example, a few examinations have been directed in the past to demonstrate that solid individuals will, in general, emit three to multiple times more development chemicals than people with diabetes and weakened carb resistance.

In this way, since refined carbs and sweet items, including pasta, confections, sweet beverages, and white bread, are demonstrated to expand your insulin level essentially, they ought to stay away from you no matter what. That is particularly a pivotal practice to follow when you’re managing lacking development chemical levels.

6-Donot Spike Your Insulin Level Before Bedtime

Also, it ought to be noticed that insulin levels consistently spike after eating times, so you should stop devouring a wide range of unfortunate carbs and sugars before sleep time to permit better rest. It’s typically prescribed to wrap up triumphing ultimately your last dinner and snacks no less than two hours before sleep time with the goal that your profound rest isn’t compromised.

Moreover, a few groups don’t consider soft drinks and espressos, which can be an extreme slip-up. Also, since drinks are not as satisfying as strong food, you can wind up burning through more than required, autonomous of your calorie and insulin consumption. That is the reason it’s recommended not to have any improved, heavy drinker, or caffeine-based beverage also at the evening.

7-Eat a Balanced Diet

Eating a reasonable eating regimen is helpful to raise your human development chemical and furthermore further develop your general prosperity. At the point when you take your carbs, protein, and different food varieties in solid parts, they upgrade your HGH creation. In addition, adding certain food varieties to your everyday nourishment, similar to avocado, tomatoes, eggs, and fish, is straightforwardly connected with improved human development chemical discharge.

Lift Your Human Growth Hormone (HGH) Level with Intermittent Fasting

8-Try Intermittent Fasting

Moreover, you can attempt irregular fasting to support your HGH level also. A few bits of examination demonstrate that you can encounter a 300% expansion in your HGH creation in the wake of going for simply a three-day diet. Besides, since you can lean toward different accessible discontinuous fasting choices, there wouldn’t be an issue discovering one that coordinates with your schedule the best!

Nonetheless, understand that constant fasting for extensive stretches is anything but a maintainable strategy for expanded HGH creation over the long haul. That is the reason you should give your body a recuperating period on numerous occasions when you are seeking this specific strategy.

9-Add Melatonin to Your Diet

The following best thing you can accomplish for raised HGH emission is to add melatonin, a chemical delivered by the pineal organ during the evening, to your eating routine. By doing this, you can manage your rest cycle and lift your shots at getting all the more profound rest, which is the point at which the HGH creation is at its pinnacle.

Besides, while you would think the best ideal opportunity to burn through melatonin-advanced food is in the evening because of its relationship with the body’s rest cycle, breakfast is viewed as the best feast of the day for this reason.

In case you’re thinking about what you can devour for breakfast for coordinating melatonin into your eating routine, you can think about the accompanying food varieties:

Eggs

Tomatoes

Grapes

Nuts

Pomegranate

Raspberries

Fish

Mustard seeds

10-Allow Arginine to Boost the Synthesis of HGH

Adding arginine, an amino corrosive that supports the blend of human development chemicals, to your eating routine in a regular structure can likewise uplift your HGH level essentially. An arginine-rich eating routine may include:

Red meat

Earthy colored rice

Chicken

Nuts

Soybeans

Seeds

In any case, in case you’re utilizing arginine enhancements to raise your HGH level while staying aware of your activity normal, that would be a slip-up on your part. When taken close by your serious actual everyday practice, the enhancements offer you near no outcomes as a trade-off. In this manner, we would just propose arginine enhancements to people who don’t think that it’s important to practice or can’t because of an actual physical issue.

11-Take Beta-Alanine Before Your Workout Sessions

Finally, with regards to supplements that can be taken around your exercise meetings, beta-alanine would be the best approach. These are sports supplements that support your endurance so you can enjoy extraordinary actual preparation ceaselessly.

In any case, it’s ideal to stay away from sports drinks with beta-alanine since they may nullify their usefulness because of high sugar and calorie admission.

The Final Verdict

Taking everything into account, we recommend utilizing an HGH, as Genotropin, while attempting to execute whatever number referenced tips from this article as could be allowed to raise your human development chemical level effectively. Be that as it may, in case you’re pondering where to purchase HGH in Thailand, HGH Thailand has you covered! You can visit our site to arrange your decision of HGH with a free meeting and begin chipping away at further developing your body right away!

[siren07tucker]

Incorrect time DOOM/Hermit Craft

Part 17 I am finally home

There’s nothing really to worry about just keep in mind whenever DG is speaking he’s using sign language unless I say so

The doom slayer stretched his muscles he just stopped a small army of demons from attacking earth, but all he could think about was what him and his kids would eat for dinner. He noticed a while ago that Vega disconnected his timer was still on though so he assumed everything was fine and that his kids are being a bit nuts.

DG manually activate the portal, it took a minute due to the sheer energy it takes to activate a portal like this. The slayer walk-through, it was dark and it felt empty. The lights turned on in Vega spoke “Slayer is that really you?” Vega sounded more human he sounded older?

DG signed of course it’s me Vega. A part of him realized what he thought older, Vega sounded older! “Vega where are the boy’s!” Vega was quiet for A moment “Slayer you should clean yourself before I tell you anything“ (A little bit later because I’m lazy)

The doom slayer sat in his room It was definitely different, there was a small mound of presents in the corner everything seemed cleaner. The slayer was waiting for Vega, DG was briefed on what happened.

He still couldn’t believe it, but his life was long and complicated and weird so very weird compared to most so this might as well happened. There was a small knock at the door “do not be alarmed slayer it’s me Vega”

The door opened revealing what seem to be a human, they were tall and a tad muscular, their eyes and bits of their hair was Electric Blue the rest of their hair was gray, their skin Was pale Parts of their body was made out of some kind of black metal. The Slayer noticed that the person wore one of his shirts?

Vega? DG Never imagined Vega as a human he did remember Vegas saying he might make a physical platform but he never imagined it To be so, human? “HO Forgive me slayer if you do not want me to wear your clothing and that” The slayer cut him off “no, no that’s fine it’s just weird you know, you not being The fortress and all”

Vega Nodded “I understand that what I told you was a lot” V smiled The slayer hand before signing “can we go visit the boys” Vega smiled more “ I am more than certain that Xisuma would love to see you again. He has grown up a lot. he looks a lot like you, oh I have pictures! Just a moment” Vega scurried out of the room And quickly returning with a Green book it had a large X painted on it.

They flipped through the older pictures that DG Already knew about stopping When x was around 13. Xisuma was holding up a demon Head displaying it proudly in front of the camera. “that was his first glory kill“ Vega Said he sounded so proud the slayer wished he was there but wishing was pointless.

Vega pointed to another picture It was Xisuma and void they were both suited up but DG can tell how different they were by how they stood. The slayer gently trace the outline of his younger son’s horn they did get bigger. “that was right before the minor invasion“

That brought the doom slayer into reality Vega noticed his horrified look. “In your absence hell Thought that they killed you. So They invaded earth again the humans needed help and void and Xisuma came to their aid. They were so brave”

The doom slayer slept in his chair. By trying to stop another invasion, he abandoned his children and allowed another invasion the worst part was that his children had to fight in it.

“Slayer it was not your fault none of us knew that hell set a trap for you. The only important thing is that your back” DG smiled that Vega they continued looking through the book, the doom slayer watched his son grow up.

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 59: What Do I Do Now?

Even adults sometimes want their parents.

First  Previous  Next

Lance is lying on his back, the perfect pillow for Keith, nestled against his side, and BleepBloop, wedged between them. He's got his tail wrapped around the Altean's waist. They’re on a blanket under a tree, the warmth of the early afternoon a balm against their skin. After the unpleasant morning, Keith’s glad to spend some time curled up with his chosen mate. Just lie here and inhale Lance’s scent, soak up his warmth, absorb the rhythm of his breathing. They match breath for breath, primary heartbeat to heartbeat.

Despite his content, Keith can’t quite find sleep. He’s restful, sleepy, but there’s too much going on inside his head. He can’t help but think of Thace’s words, the notes on his test results.  

“Perfect Health.”

The problem with perfect health? It means Keith has to consider his responsibilities and weigh them against what he really and truly wants.

Part of him doesn’t want to give anyone the satisfaction. All these people standing around wondering when he’s gonna push one out. They’re probably all milling about on Altea right now, gossiping about how he’s going to come back pregnant. They don’t deserve it. They don’t deserve Lance, they don’t deserve him, and they definitely won’t deserve his kits. Because obviously his kits will be perfect and beautiful and theirs, and therefore unworthy of anyone else.

Additionally, he doesn’t want to become a breeder. He has other things he still wants to do. He doesn’t want to sit around inside a castle and push out kits. Some of his species seem content with that life (probably because they’re just fucking nuts), but Keith is a warrior, and a leader (he’s trying), and someday he’d like to be an explorer. He still has dreams of a big life. The idea of his sex suddenly become a restraint bothers him.

But... He has responsibilities, both to his people and Lance’s. He doesn’t really care about elevating himself in Galra society. His friends within the Blade of Marmora and his family are enough for him. All the same, he wants to contribute to his race, be it because of Zarkon’s brainwashing or his own personal desires. Plus, he kind of needs to provide Lance an heir. It’s literally his only purpose, politically speaking.

“Perfect Health.”

What perfect health means is that his excuse is gone. Time to spread his legs!- Or so he’d think, except Lance is perfectly content to wait. Lance isn't even nineteen, and he's only just barely approaching twenty. Insanely young to be parents, even if that’s the expectation. They could absolutely wait if they wanted to…

And Keith definitely wanted to. But with that one phrase, “Perfect Health”, he can’t help but wonder.

He’s in this bad spot where no matter what he does, someone will end up mad at him. Possibly Alfor, which would be extremely inconvenient. Possibly Lance, which would break his heart. Possibly himself, which would just be par for the course at this point.

He taps Lance on the shoulder, waits for his eyes to flutter open. “I’m going to go find Shiro. Will you be alright on your own?”

Lance nods, humming an affirmative, already falling back asleep. Keith presses their lips together, Lance’s response sleepy but nonetheless sweet for it. “I love you.”

The Altean hums again, smiling his way back into a doze. That’s another thing: Lance really is sweet, and he’s been desperate to make Keith happy since before he even arrived on Altea. Bond or no bond, he feels like he owes Lance something. Which is stupid and not rational since Lance doesn’t want fuck all from him except support and affection, but Keith has a few anxieties when it comes to family.

After giving BleepBloop a goodbye pat, Keith heads out. Once he’s arrived at the compound, it takes him a minute to find Shiro. He’s in the yard, training some new recruits. “Hey, Keith. How’s it going?”

“So-so. You?”

“Well enough.” Shiro frowns. “What’s bothering you- Watch your footing, Klai. A good breeze would knock you over!”

“Thace says I’m well enough for a kit this first season. And I have to have at least two before too long.”

“And you don’t want any. I don’t blame you.”

“What? Yes I do!” Keith stares wide-eyed at his littermate? “You don’t?”

“How can I?” Shiro retorts, turning on him. “For that matter, how can you?!”

Keith can’t believe he’s hearing this. He’s always assumed his kind, warm-hearted brother wanted that. “Why wouldn’t I want that?”

“Keith, you grew up alone! How can you possibly risk leaving your kits to that same fate! How can you invite that kind of suffering on innocent life?”

“I- I would be a good parent. I’d make sure my kits would be provided for. Why should my not having had a family impede me from building one of my own?”

The found siblings gape at one another, disbelief written on both of their faces. It’s never occurred to either of them that they might have different goals in life. They’ve always been of a singular mind. Peace is a good option; the empire is stretched thin and vulnerable; Altean food is fucking nasty.

It never occurred to Keith that Shiro, who has so much to offer and so much natural talent as a mentor and leader, wouldn’t want to pass on his genes, nurture someone that’s his own flesh and blood. It never occurred to Shiro that Keith, damaged, neglected, traded like a commodity, would still want to start a family of his own.

Shiro sighs, runs fingers through the silver hair on top of his head. “You really want kits?”

Keith nods, ears wilted, tail limp. He eyes his littermate carefully, trying to figure out how to appease him. Stupid kit instincts.

“Okay. Hey, it’s okay. We’re okay. I’m sorry.” Shiro rubs the top of Keith’s head. “But if that’s what you really want, I’m not the right person to talk to.”

“Yeah, I guess not.” Keith sighs, turning back to the sparring newcomers. “I’ll talk to my mother. I planned to anyway, since she and I both have that disorder.”

He can feel needles and aches in his bones again, prominent in his shoulders, knees, and hips.

“Good idea.” Shiro smiles. “So, what do you think? They any good?”

“They’re good for soldiers. They’ve got a lot to learn if they want to be Blades.”

“I agree. The potential is there, but the refinement is not. Speaking of which, I know you’ve been trying to keep a low profile because of your age, but you and Lance should come to training tomorrow morning. You say he’s improved, and I want to see that, and I want to see his supposed marksmanship. I also know that you haven’t been challenged in a while, so I want to see how much you’ve regressed.”

“Good idea. I could use a bit of conditioning, and a bit of exercise, to be honest. I’ve been very lazy since coming home.”

“I know. Rumor has it a pair of princes have been lounging about down in a certain village, grossing everyone out with their affections.”

“Oh, fuck off! The sun feels nice, alright?!”

“What about the rain?”

Keith’s ears twitch, betraying his embarrassment. But he smiles. “Yeah. That too.”

“Aw, you lovesick idiot. Go say hi to your mother!” Shiro shoves him away, but it’s more playful than anything else.

Of course, Keith has to push back, so Shiro has to push back, so Keith has to try and tackle him, so-

Lance sighs, glancing at the datapad propped up in the windowsill, setting BleepBloop on his shoulder. While he waits for his father to pick up the call, he looks over a recipe someone handed him while he was folding up the nap blanket. It seems simple enough. Chop up some stuff, throw it in a pot, cook it over a fire. Said pot was already outside, boiling bones to make the broth.

He’s cooked before, actually, making a hobby of it as a way to spend more time with Hunk, Rosetta, and Shay. That said, he’s never done it on his own. Well, he’s seen what a finished stew is supposed to look like, and it’s about time he and Keith stopped freeloading off the neighbors, so… fuck it. He might as well try.

"Here you go." Lance hands BleepBloop a small beanpod, which the primate bites, then throws across the room. "Guess you only eat meat, huh? Wait a tick, and I'll give you some, okay?" The primate chitters, clearly annoyed at his stupidity, but he's easily appeased by a head scratch.

While he waits for his father to bother answering, Lance begins by chopping some meat wrapped in leaves and covered in spices. It’s the same color as bits of meat still stuck to the bones cooking outside. Taking a luxite knife, Lance does as he’s seen the locals do, slicing the meat up along with the leaves right on top of the dining table. Picking off a piece of leaf, he hands a small chunk to BleepBloop, almost certain Keith would kick his ass for feeding it to him.

“Lance.” It’s his father, dressed in pajamas, watching him from the screen of his datapad. It’s later in the quintant back home, already after dark. “How is Daibazaal?”

“Very different, and the people don’t like me much, but I like it here.”

“You’ve been out in the village?”

“Yes. Keith has a den.” Lance scoops up the meat and leaves, dumping them in a stone bowl. He starts on a basket of vegetables and tubers, starting by using a mortar and pestle to mash up some plump, violet fruits with soft insides and a thin skin. “...He has friends here.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad for that. Have you seen the imperial family at all?”

“No, which is probably fortunate, given that Keith and I have been wandering all over the place like a pair of tourists, flaunting that he’s only just now growing up.”

A moment's pause, then, “Lance, what was the one major thing I told you to do?”

“Have sex with Keith?”

“Lance.”

“Stay safe," he grumbles. There’s silence in the wake of their heads butting together. “When did you last hear from Allura?”

“Just a few vargas ago. She informed me that Romelle no longer recognizes her.”

“What are we going to do? Where do we go from here?”

“Nothing. Nowhere.”

Lance’s heart stops. “How can you say that? She- Wasn’t she your friend? Don’t you care about her and Allura?”

“Son, it took me a centaphoeb and a half to piece Romelle’s brain back together. We’re lucky she’s with us at all.” Seeing the look on Lance's face, Alfor remembers he sometimes needs to be more gentle with his bleeding heart of his son.

“There’s nothing more I can do for her, Lance. I’ve tried everything. If something new becomes available, I’ll be more than tempted to arrange treatment myself, but the truth is… It’s cruel to keep forcing Romelle through all these experimental treatments. They can be traumatic and invasive, and half the time, there’s a decline in her condition, and almost never any improvement at all.”

Lance recognizes the truth in his father’s words, but it still hurts. Romelle is one of his few friends. BleepBloop smears a tear over his cheek before it can fall onto the vegetables he’s chopping. “What am I gonna tell Allura?”

“Nothing. You don’t have to tell her anything. I am going to tell her that there’s nothing left to try right now, but that I will be refocusing my efforts to find a new solution.”

“You’re going to lie to her?”

“Your sister deserves that, don’t you think?” Alfor murmurs, watching his son prepare food like a commoner.

“I don’t understand.”

“One day, you’ll have children of your own, and you’ll learn. I know I haven’t exactly been a good father, but I’ve never been indifferent to your pain. Either of you. The kindest thing I can do for Allura is lie.”

Lance nods, staring at the pile of vegetables before him. He can feel the sharp downturn of his mouth. “There’s really nothing I can do?”

“There’s nothing anyone can do.” The king sighs. “It’s a hard lesson for people like us, Lance: Some things are out of our control.”

Chuckling, Lance scoops all the vegetables into the large stone bowl. “Yeah. I think Keith’s catching on.”

“To what, that you’re a control freak?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s known that since the Frost Ball at the very latest.”

Grunting his reluctant agreement, Lance grabs his datapad, sets it outside by the stew pot so he can keep talking to his father while he babysits the stew. BleepBloop steals a lump of meat and runs off with it. Checking the paper recipe, Lance casually dumps all the ingredients in.

“What the quiznak are you doing?”

As per the recipe, Lance pours in a leather satchel full of grain. “Locals got tired of me freeloading, so today I am making stew. I’ve never made it before, so they gave me a recipe. On paper… I’ve never touched paper before.”

“I have, a few times. Pretty neat, right?” Alfor smiles.

“Yeah. It’s like… soft. But also not? Anyway, I told our neighbor when they came by with the ingredients that I’m willing to learn how to do other stuff if they’re willing to teach me. I don’t have anything against labor.”

“Be careful. You are not the people, Lance. You are separate from them.” Easy for his aloof, antisocial father to say.

“I know.” He does know. He also knows that his desperate need for community is in direct opposition with his responsibilities. “Keith has a lot of friends here, or at least friendly neighbors. I think he was kind of adopted by the locals.”

“If the locals are friendly with him, you need to establish yourself as a prominent figure within the community.” There’s a fine line between friendly and friends, and they both know it. Lance knows he’s already been far too friendly with Thace, a man who just handed him his newborn within seconds of meeting. Alfor doesn’t need to know about that.

“You mean be neighborly? I’ll be neighborly, and you learn some less… aggressive vocabulary, okay?” Lance shifts the fire beneath the pot, sliding some of the burning logs into the stone oven on the other side of the oblong fire pit, gradually bringing the stew from a boil to a simmer.

A young adult half-Galra comes up, carrying a stone bowl full of dough. They have brightly colored skin, including a prehensile appendage on top of their head. “Mind if I borrow that extra fire?”

Lance shakes his head. “Go for it. I’ll speak to you later, Father. Please say hello to Dad for me.”

“Of course. Have a good evening, Lance.”

“You too.” Lance lets his father do the hanging up. It’s so weird, having an actual conversation with his father. He’s not sure he’ll ever get used to it. Or Galra society. “Okay, I gotta ask you a rude question.”

The unfamiliar Galra looks up, somewhat amused. “Go ahead.”

“What pronouns do you use?”

“She/her. Name’s Ezor. Galra gender identity killing you yet?”

“Driving me insane,” Lance admits.

“Just guess, and if it bothers someone, they’ll correct you. It’s how we all get by.” The woman smiles, working the dough in her hands into small balls, wrapping them in leaves, sticking two at a time on the stones by the fire. “Thanks for letting me borrow your fire. I didn’t feel like making one.”

“I’d never made one before. Good to know it’s worth borrowing.”

Lance looks up from stirring the stew. It’s almost dark, there’s a growing chill in the air, and Keith isn’t back yet. He decides not to worry about it, instead assuming he’s with his brother.

Keith’s actually with his mother, having taken plenty of time earlier to horse around with his brother and some of his old friends. The Blade of Marmora, Emperor Zarkon’s private army, has been his family since he came to the mountain. He’d actually wanted to fully join the Blades after his first season, and sometimes he misses the community. They don’t treat him any differently, except to tease him about the ribbon braided into his hair.

It doesn’t bother him, but he does wonder how he might have ended up if he hadn’t been married to Lance.

He also wonders how he might have ended up if he hadn’t finally found his mother, who’s a truly wonderful combination of fierce and gentle. For example, scolding him for lying about and acting a fool instead of keeping himself well-conditioned, then promptly giving him a hug and a hot cup of tea.

“So. I never see you anymore unless you’re having problems.” Krolia sits back in her chair, smirk crossing her face. Keith glares, riling easily at his mother's unfair but completely accurate observation. “Come on, kitten. I can tell something’s bothering you.”

Hating how easily he softens, Keith spills. “I don’t know if I should get pregnant or not.”

Krolia lifts an eyebrow, staring at her young son. “Are you healthy enough?”

" Perfect Health."

"Yes."

“Are you happy with your relationship with Lance? Are you ready to take that next step?”

“Yes.” He’s frustrated with the number of choices that have been taken away from him, but none of that is Lance’s fault. In fact, Lance is going out of his way to give him as many choices as possible.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I… Someone will end up unhappy. If I decide not to, Alfor will be even more annoying and Lance will be sad, even though he’s pretending he won’t care. If I do have a kit, then I’ll be mad at myself."

"Why?"

"Because then I'll have just gone and done what everyone else wanted!"

"And?" Keith balks at his mother's insight. "There's always an 'and', Keith."

And-” Keith gulps. “And then that’s all I’ll be good for.”

“All you’ll be good for?” Krolia frowns. “How in the cosmos did you arrive at that conclusion?”

“That’s all anybody wants from me. To the Empire, I’m a breeder. To the Alteans, I’m a breeder at best, a novelty at worst. I want- I want to be other things, Mom. I know I’m worth more than that.”

“Am I a breeder?” Krolia asks quietly, fixing her son with a hard stare. Keith sinks down in his seat, appropriately abashed. “Is Thace a breeder? We are all what we make ourselves, Keith. You can be a breeder, if that’s what you allow yourself to be. Or you can be a father, a warrior, an explorer, a future king- Whatever you want to be, that is what you make yourself. What do you want to be, Keith?”

“I… I don’t know. I- More. I want to be more.”

“Do you want to be a father? Do you want kits of your own?”

“...Yes. I want that. A lot.”

“If you become a father, sooner or later you will give everyone the satisfaction of seeing you bear Lance's children. It is up to you if that is your only great achievement. If you want to be a father and something 'more', what will you do to make those things happen?”

“...I don’t know.”

“Then that’s where you should start. You have time, kitten. You're young enough yet.”

Krolia stands, rubs her kit behind the ears. He’s so very nearly grown, and she barely got any time with him. Beneath her gaze, a spasm crawls down his legs, up his back, over his shoulders. “Do you have a shot with you, kitten?”

“Yeah. Can I-”

“Come on.” Krolia leads her hurting son over to the bed, helps him into it. Keith curls up, tail curled tight to his body. Giving him the injection into the port on his arm, Krolia climbs up next to him, settles her warmth next to his. “Rest. Then you can go home to Lance.”

Keith whimpers, curling tighter as pain wracks his body. He nods, settling in against his mother. His muscles stay tense, unwilling to make himself more vulnerable in his condition.

“Just rest, kitten. I’ve got you. I’ll keep you safe.” Krolia strokes her baby’s hair, missing all the decaphoebs behind them, all the ones she didn’t have. “Momma’s here.”

Her son is blessed, privileged with medical care that she never had, but Krolia is loath to see her kit in pain. Galra are forever devoted to their own young, even after they grow up. Her love for Keith will remain strong even after instinct has faded. Knowing that he is her only kit, he’s even more precious. Her greatest achievement in life is her son.

“It's late," Keith whispers some time later, gazing at the darkness outside. He looks tired, pain even he can't resist sapping his strength.

"It is. Do you want to stay here, or go home?" Krolia already knows the answer, but it's a small choice she can offer her entangled son.

"I should go. I've been missing Lance since I left. Which is super freaky."

"It'll pass." Krolia watches her son play with the end of his braid. "You really do love him, don't you."

Not a question. A statement. A surrender.

"I do. He's earned it, Mom. We both worked hard to be friends, and now we're working hard for this. But he was the one who reached out first. I was content to hate him forever."

"I'm still content to hate him forever." Krolia sighs. "But I'll tolerate him, since you're so fond."

"Thanks, Momma." Keith kisses his mother's cheek, heads for home. He's got a lot to talk about, and a husband who happens to really enjoy that exact thing.

Lance is lucky he's cute. Or maybe it's Keith that's lucky. Who the fuck even knows at this point?

[delimeful]

First time they saw Patton cuddling with Virgil? (Like y’know the energy thing maybe?) Or Virgil protecting the three of them from some other alien?

Okay, now that Making Adjustments is out in full, I’m posting all the asks that inspired me for certain parts or even just to continue writing! Thank you to everyone who sent in ideas/what they wanted to see/theories, I really appreciate it! All asks under the cut!

@ironwoman359 said: I’d be really interested to read about what the first week or two aboard the ship with all four of them was like. I’m sure it was a big adjustment for all of them, and it’d be really cool to see!

@skeletonsloverockcandy said: WINBAR prompt - Virgil’s first night on the ship, is not with Patton, and gets a nightmare. Logan finds him and Virgil has to explain his nightmare/dreams

@the-princey-pie said: Logan mentioned that Virgil would probbaly have trouble fitting through the space ship doors. Now I really want to see Vorgil stepping into their spaceship the first time/navigating it for the first few weeks.

@indigomasquerade97 said: WIBAR prompt. Virgil is Stitch from Lilo and Stitch. You know the scene I’m talking about! ;) Roman is still freaked out with the idea of having a human on board, and one night (maybe on patrol, since he is still jittery from loosing Patton and doesn’t want to loose him - or Logan - again) and he gets freaked out by the nocturnal human suddenly being in the room? IDK

Anonymous said: So. I was wondering for the WIBAR prompts, what was Virgil’s first night on the ship like? How did Roman and Logan act towards him? And is he worried that his relationship with Patton is going to change now that he’s back with his family? Sorry if this is a lot…

Anonymous said: WIBAR prompt idea: Food! Since food is often culturally connected for humans, would it be the same for our alien friends? And if they have any, from Virgil’s pov., strange food items etc. Would be interesting to see considering they are all from such different species. :D

@justanotherpurplebutterfly said: WIBAR: did Patton tell his crewmates how to interpret Virgil’s body language? Did they figure it out for themselves? Did they struggle to remember when they saw him smile or stretch (and make himself big) or something?

Anonymous said: I would love to see some V POV or adjustment period/cultural differences! (particularly L/R’s reactions to V smiling, differences in diet/hunting styles, what V considers a threat vs. what LMP consider threats… anything that highlights the deathworlder in Virg! (Space Australia is like my fav thing that came out of tumblr)) also maybe some more of L/R’s thoughts on Patton befriending a space boogieman?? I really really love this au! :)

Anonymous said: OoOOooh okay how about,, Virgil’s POV as they head back to Roman and Logan’s ship and get on, (and maybe if he doesn’t know the species Logan and Roman are he could ask? That seems the easiest way for us to learn more about the boys without it being too awkwardly shoved in) and V’s probably awkward because he doesn’t know Lo and Ro and Ro’s openly hostile and he wasn’t expecting to go along with them and idk you decide. Also :DD wibar’s not done yet!! Tysm; I’m really enjoying it!

@bishopriecke said: Okay, so I’ve got a couple prompts so I’ll send them separately in case that’s how you’d wanted them? The story is absolutely adorable and it made me think of the sleeping habits back on the ship. There’s space for Virgil, but will Pat gravitate to sleeping with him, since it was such a comfort and Virgil only gets sleepy if he snags energy during cuddles? If he’s tired/virgil’s stressing over something will he wander over to where Virgil is chilling and settle in his lap? How’s Ro&Lo react?

@bumblebeekitten said: Do any of the others attempt to learn Virgil’s language? Or maybe Virgil quietly tries to dispel some of the more hurtful rumors about ‘deathworlder humans’?

Anonymous said: What would wibar Roman and Logan do if they couldn’t find Patton? Would they assume Virgil had done something?

Anonymous said: While waiting for more WIBAR, I keep re-reading everything (Act 1, Intermission, all the world building asks). Right now, I just want to plead with Patton to go find Virgil as he needs comfort, to calmly tell Logan that I don’t blame him, and to hiss at Roman that, while he has had bad experiences and that is valid, he needs to be nicer. Granted, a reaction like that from a human fan-nut probably wouldn’t help Virgil’s case… but he needs a hug so much right now!

Anonymous said: i’m thinking there’s lots of potential for hurt/comfort with this chapter. Virgil’s obviously panicking so i reckon he’s gonna have to try and convince himself that he can trust Patton if not the others. i feel like virgil still wont trust the others but they’ll get to see that he’s not always this big, strong deathworlder and he gets scared just like them. he’s been traumatised and he cares for Patt a lot and theyll try to understand eachother better and hopefully become friends/gain some trust

Anonymous said: that is very much wishful think and a need for my boys to be happy though haha. soz, that probably wasnt very helpful for writing but thats just something i’d like to see happen but i KNOW that whatever you end up writing is gonna be fabulous (ran out of room on my last ask and couldnt even sign it, whoops)

@justanotherpurplebutterfly said: I’m mainly really curious how Roman will react. If he has even have as big of an imagination as buobba Roman then he will probably interpret Virgil’s outburst as a violent attack and try to frame him as a danger they shouldn’t keep on the ship. However if he was able to detect Virgil’s fear then this might be the first step of them growing closer. Idk which I like better, because on one hand I want them to to get along and witness wacky human things in an amicable atmosphere, but on the other hand, misunderstandings are soooo good!!!! Most of all I want Virgil to get a hug though. Poor boy deserves one. I don’t care with who it is, although I suspect it will be Patton because no way the other ones trust Virgil enough and vice versa.

@yalltookmyurlideas said: Haha wibar fears? There are,,, so many. My main fear is that Roman will misinterpret Virgil’s panic to mean he’s hiding something and not see it for the panic and fear it is.

Anonymous said: I was thinking about for WIBAR, are we going to find out more about Virgils life on Earth? Is there angst there or is it irrelevant? Also would Logan and Roman go after Virgil themselves so as not to worry Pat or would they realise this was a situation they couldn’t solve? OR does Roman think V is attacking them and goes to hurt him? Sorry long ask but I’m excited for the chapter 😅😅🥰🥰

Anonymous said: Ayyy super late gang, barely got a hour of sleep bc anxiety/nightmares so yeehaw. I guess for WIBAR, the most essential thing to consider is how you want Making Adjustments to sorta add onto its characters & how they interact. Idk that ofc, but I think the situation is going to resolve into a ‘im only human’ (the irony) kinda situation and the crew (maybe minus patton??) only /starting/ to grasp the human is a bunch of damaged goods who is lowkey more scared of them than they are of he (½)

Anonymous said: (2/2) how i see the situation going down? Depends who finds him. If it’s Pat, he could sing him clam like in the cell. If its Roman or Logan, odds are Virgil’s gonna b scared & his response will be to Fight or Freeze, as he already did the Flight option. Virgil reacting like a cornered animal would be terrifying Ro and Lo. (Also Ro and Lo going to wake up Pat for Human Help has the same vibes of a child waking up their parents to tell them they puked lmao)

@killerfangirl3 said: After where you left last chapter, I am 100% terrified Roman will find Virgil before Patton and cause real danger to everyone. After all Virgil is flooded with adrenaline right now and he barely knows how his strength affects the metal? of the ship as it is. The sudden increase in strength if he was attempting to defend himself could cause him to put a hole in the ship.

@hotchocolatehugs said: Oh! Also, would Virgil calm down if Patton found him, or would it just make him worse/more crazed? I dunno about his state of mind, but if I were in his position I would probably be acting aggressively to anyone who came in. Do aliens have hot chocolate or tea, or some equivalent drink? Because I think Virge needs a calming drink. (sorry if this is too much!)

Anonymous said: I saw your latest post and all I could think about is Virgil stuck on the appliance, really high up and close to the ceiling unseen while he sees Roman and Logan below. Maybe a bit of a language barrier while they say some words that Virgil may not no yet and jumping to conclusions and filling in the blanks in the sentences

Anonymous said: I’m afraid that In WIBAR, Roman may keep Pat from going to find and comfort Virgil and just…leave him up there

@katelynn-a-fan said: Mission impossible theme while looking for Virgil. Too short can’t see Virgil on top appliance. Mission impossible theme continues and fades into the distance. (That’s all I got)

Anonymous said: WIBAR suggestions/predictions/fears: I worry about Roman or Logan finding Virgil before Patton - Roman because I don’t think he will be understanding about how afraid Virgil is; Logan because I think that would scare Virgil more. He might break out of his flight stage into fight, and that could make them fear him more. But, while worry about this scenario, maybe it would be for the best. Maybe one or both need to find him at a low to see that he isn’t a monster, just scared.

@enby-phoenix said:

OK so wibar thoughts! I’m a little concerned that Roman will think that Virgil was genuinely trying to attack him with that chair and also probably trying to hurt Logan, and he’s gonna get upsetti. I also think that the way they figure out what’s made Virgil go all fight or flight will probably involve Logan doing the memory share thing, but it’ll take them a bit to get close enough without Virgil threatening to bite Logan’s hands off.

Also PLEASE let my boy eat a full meal and get some proper sleep!

I would also love to see Virgil curled around Patton protectively but everyone knows that it’s Patton who’s making Virgil feel safe.

Another prediction is that Logan, realizing that SOMETHING bad just happened, and knowing that all his information on humans seems to be incorrect or at least not apply to this one, will go to Patton for advice on what to do regarding Virgil’s sudden change of behavior, and how to calm him down again. Cause Patton is the resident expert on Virgil.

I also imagine that Logan might keep his note taking to himself again for a bit, until Virgil believes that he’s not the bad kind of scientist.

I love that Virgil climbed on top of the tallest thing he could find, and I imagine that if it’s above everyone else’s usual eyelines, they each walk past him multiple times while they’re worriedly searching the ship for him.

I’m mostly imagining Virgil clinging to Patton like a lifeline and the other two aliens worrying for their tiny friend but Patton knows that Virgil is just scared and sings him the “calm down baby it’s okay I’m here” hatchling soothing song until Virgil calms down a little, and then still staying with him while explanations are had. They do not come out of the small space on top of the tallest appliance and Roman doesn’t like that but he’ll deal.

Now that I’m thinking about it more, one of the best ways for Logan to gain (at least a little bit of) Virgil’s trust would be for Virgil to see his honest reaction to what the other scientists did to him. Cause based on what I know of Logan, he would be horrified. And that might help Virgil to realize that Logan ISN’T LIKE those other scientists.

Anonymous said: *gets out the defibrillator to help kickstart the creative juices* At this point Virgil is running on fumes and when the trio find him Patton tries to comfort him. But he’s too stressed and feels betrayed and there’s just too much inner turmoil for him to hold back so he finally breaks down in front of them. Perhaps it’s not Patton that manages to calm him down, but Roman who finally recognizes him as a traumatized person rather than “just an evil human” :D

@enby-phoenix said: tbh Virgil probably hisses at either Logan or Roman at some point and it makes them nervous and confused.

Anonymous said: Roman forcing Virgil down from his hiding spot. 'Blade’ to his neck and tying him to a chair. Virgil thinking that he shouldn’t have run and that they are going to be even angrier at him now, ergo more painful experiments. Begging to be put under for the cutting away and to please don’t get mad at Patton (just in case Patton was trying to be a good friend).

Anonymous said: Suggestion for WIBAR - Roman goes looking for Virgil, all ready for a confrontation. But, when he finds him, Virgil unknowingly makes some sort of gesture that means fear/terror to Roman’s people and he stops and evaluates the situation with clearer eyes. This gives Patton/Logan/both a chance to get there.

Anonymous said: Can we get somr wibar fluff/angst?

Anonymous said: I’m just waiting for WIBAR Virgil to just pass out and the panic of everyone that sees him. Or Roman threatening him or Logan goes to touch him and BAM he’s on the floor!

Anonymous said: Stuff for WIBAR: 1: who’s gonna find Virgil? 2: what’re they gonna do with him? 3: how’s he gonna react? – Options: Patton: tries to comfort him Virgil: can’t decide whether to trust or not, maybe leading to emotional outburst and sad PatPat – Logan: scared cuz danger goblin had an outburst at him. Wondering what he did wrong & how to best proceed Virgil: 'he’s gonna do tests on me’ fight or flight – Roman: 'so, if you hurt my friends imma hurt you’ Virgil: fight or flight – ½

Anonymous said: 2/2 Of course those aren’t the only options, but it was fun for me, and I hope it got creative juices flowing for you as well. I love all your writing, and I want you to know that you can take as long as you need to be proud of your work. It’s okay. And take care of yourself too! You can’t make as good of work when you aren’t feeling as good as usual

[margoshansons]

Desperate Measures: 8/?

Bellamy x Reader: Masterlist

Summary: After being sent the coordinates for a bunker not far from the camp, Bellamy, Clarke, and Y/N go on a road trip. Y/N meets an important figure from her past.

Warnings: Swearing, hallucinations, suicide references, violence, angst, drug use

Notes: While I love this ep, I can’t bring myself to change much of it. Based on 1x08 ‘Day Trip’

She refused to speak to Marcus, even after he had threatened Clarke and Bellamy. She knew he didn’t mean it. Marcus had a one-track mind, one of the few things the two shared. 

One of the things she had learned from him.

Bellamy left the radio tent, catching Y/N’s lingering gaze before he sat down beside her, staring into the flames. “Your dad is really pushing to speak to you.” 

She remained silent, sharpening her makeshift daggers with a rock she had found outside the camp. After her encounter with the grounders a few days ago, she had learned that she had a skill for throwing knives, but they needed to be sharp to do any damage.

“I believe his exact words were ‘let me see her or I’ll blow up the camp myself.’” Bellamy’s smirk crept across his face, shifting his gaze to Y/N’s profile, her jaw clenched.

“I told you,” She began, “He’s not my father” Her eyes were downcast, anger stirring in her stomach as she recalled the last thirteen years aboard the Ark. How everything had finally been going right until the flaw was discovered, until she asked his justification for the culling. Until he cuffed her and sent her to the skybox.

“Too many people.” He had said. 

Callous, insensitive, heartless.

She’d spent so long wondering if she was the same way. If she shared the same insensitive nature surrounding others. Her eyes peeked at Bellamy through her lashes, catching the bright smile on his face and her chest burst into a thousand butterflies. She tucked both sides of her hair behind her ear and stretched a smile on her face. 

There’s no way she and Marcus shared his callousness, not when just looking at Bellamy sent her stomach fluttering.

She was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of footsteps. Clarke appeared before the two of them, pack slung around her shoulder and a determined look on her face. “Kane gave me coordinates to a bunker a few miles from here,” She tossed Bellamy a pack, an expectant look on her face, “We’re heading out soon, so get packed.”

“I’m coming with” Y/N spoke up, throwing the rock away and tucking the freshly sharpened knife into her boot. 

“No, you’re not” Bellamy ordered, standing up alongside her. He grasped her bicep, halting her in her tracks, “You just finished recovering.”

“Which is why I need to come with you,” Y/N explained, grasping the other small blade and tucking it in her waistband, “I’m tired of sitting around and doing nothing.”

Clarke smirked at her friend’s impatience, “All right fine.” She shrugged, reaching around to grab an extra pack.

“Clarke--” 

The blonde sighed before facing Bellamy’s furrowed brow and pressed lips, “She knows the area,” Clarke defended, drawing her gaze to Y/N’s jacket pocket, “And other than Raven, she’s the smartest person in this camp.”

“Smarter actually,” Y/N bragged, trying to push down the twisting feeling in her stomach at the thought of Bellamy using Clarke’s name. “Mechanics is small stuff, fixing things that are broken, I make sure things never break in the first place.”

“Oh yeah?” Raven called teasingly from the water tent, “Is that why Mecha was without power for three hours last year?”

Y/N bit her cheek, a smile pulling at her lips “That was not my fault Reyes,” She tried to defend herself, but the memory sent a bright feeling erupting within her and she resisted the urge to laugh.

“Really Franco? Because I distinctly remember someone deciding that a quickie with her boyfriend was worth not checking the converters.” Raven replied, waggling her brow at the engineer.

Bellamy chimed in, crossing his arms, “Boyfriend?” His brow was furrowed, eyes narrowing. 

Y/N shrugged nonchalantly, her chest thumping at the thought of Bellamy finding out about Kyle. She was unsure why, but alarm bells went off nevertheless. She threw the pack over her shoulder “Doesn’t matter, let’s go.”

The three of them set out of the camp, gate closing behind them as Bellamy continued to flash nervous looks toward the two girls next to him. 

“You know the first dropship will be coming down any day now,” Clarke spoke from between the two of them.

“And?” Bellamy asked, feigning innocence. Y/N couldn’t blame him.

“And you can’t avoid Jaha forever,” Clarke reminded the two of them. Y/N rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to think about Jaha and she definitely didn’t want to think about how Marcus would be on the first ship down. 

“I can try” Bellamy breathed, walking a few meters ahead of Clarke. 

The blonde turned her attention to Y/N, “You know Kane’s gonna come down too.” 

She rolled her eyes, not wanting to talk about him. “You talked to Abby yet Clarke?” She shot back. Y/N knew it was a low blow, but she caught the smirk growing on Bellamy’s face and her chest lit up again.

“Here we are” Clarke breathed, stopping in front of a patch of grass. Y/N skid to a stop, her eyes fixed on the clearing before them, jaw slack as she scanned the ruined buildings, trying to recreate what the world would’ve looked like before the bombs.“There has to be a door somewhere.”

“Let’s split up to look for it” Y/N encouraged. She shook her head free of awestruck thoughts and gripped her knife tighter as she separated from the group.

 “Stay within shouting distance!” Bellamy warned the two women, sending a nervous look Y/N’s way before she moved away.

She hated being this exposed in grounder territory. Even if a grounder got close enough to slice with the knife, or she could throw it far enough, there was a chance of her opening her wound again, and the last thing she needed was Bellamy finding out about her genetic anomaly. 

She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to keep it a secret. Miller knew, she assumed Clarke knew, even Marcus knew. Why was she so worried about others discovering it?

She popped a nut from the new ration packs in her mouth, relishing in the sweet taste that coated her tongue. A twig snapped behind her and she whipped around, brandishing the knife at the intruder, lowering it when she saw a familiar freckled face appear in the tree line.

“What the hell Bellamy?” She asked, relaxing her shoulders.

Bellamy held his hands up in surrender, “I was following you, making sure you were doing okay.”

She let out an exasperated sigh, “I told you, I’m fine.” She rolled her eyes and pressed forward while Bellamy’s hand latched onto the tips of her fingers. “I almost lost you yesterday” His brown orbs held a certain vulnerability she had only ever seen around Octavia, and he bit his lip as he stared down at her, “Excuse me if I want to check in on my friends.” He nudged her side playfully and she rolled her eyes. The vulnerable look he had been sporting disappeared when the two of them heard their names called.

“Y/N!, Bellamy!” Clarke’s voice rang through the trees and the two of them ran back to the clearing they had entered earlier. Apparently, Clarke had discovered a door to the bunker, and Bellamy leaned over to hit the lock with his ax, shattering the metal.

They pried the door open and the smell hit her before anything else. “So much for living here,” She crinkled her nose in disgust as they descended the worn staircase. Cobwebs hung from the walls and the rancid smell seemed to get worse as they descended deeper into the forgotten bunker. 

The three of them dispersed as they searched for something, anything that would be helpful against the upcoming winter. 

Y/N used her knife to pry open a chest perched on a rickety shelf. Orange met her eyes and she reached forward, her hands grasping the soft material.

“Blankets,” She muttered angrily, tossing the blankets back into the chest and running her hand through her hair. Clarke’s hand softly grasped her arm.

“At least we have protection for winter.” The ever-optimistic leader reminded her. 

“Yeah? We’ll still freeze,” Bellamy huffed in annoyance, “How about medicine or food or a decent freaking tent?!” He kicked a barrel over, leading to several clangs against the floor. 

Y/N knelt down, examining the liquid before shining her flashlight on Bellamy’s findings. A hundred or so guns lay packed in the barrel, ready to be fired. 

Ready to be used. 

“This changes everything,” Bellamy smiled as he picked up the rifle, examining it in his hands before handing it to Y/N, and picking up another one for himself. “The grounders won’t know what hit them.”

The two girls shared a nervous look before crossing to the middle of the bunker, one question leaving Bellamy’s mouth catching them off guard.

“Ready to be a badass Y/N?” He threw a jobi nut in his mouth as Y/N examined the rifle in her hands. Marcus had taught her how to shoot from the moment he had taken her in. It was his idea of bonding, but she saw guns as a waste of time. 

Why use them when bombs and grenades were much more effective?

She stole a smirk at the older guy, flipping her ponytail behind her shoulder, “I’m already a badass.” She lined up the shot, recalling Marcus’ voice whispering in her ear. 

Use the scope.

Prepare for the kickback. 

“Here,” Bellamy moved forward, pressing his body close to hers, arms wrapping around hers as she tried to calm the rising movement in her stomach. Her breathing grew faster, and she focused in on the red banner serving as her target. She couldn’t look at him. Not when she felt her cheeks growing rosier as he moved closer, correcting her grip. Bellamy stuttered as he pulled away, the air growing cold where his warmth had once been.

She fired off a round, ignoring Clarke’s raised eyebrows and Bellamy’s flustered expression. 

The bullet hit dead center, and something deep inside her told her that Marcus would be proud. 

“So,” Clarke’s voice rang through, running a hand over the deadly weapon,  “We need to talk about the guns, who has access, where they’re stored.”

She turned toward Bellamy, invading his personal space and sending a shot of irritation through Y/N’s stomach and up to her chest. “You left Miller in charge,” Clarke continued, “You must trust him, both of you.”

Y/N nodded, her loyalty toward Miller unflinching. “He’s one of the most loyal people I’ve ever met” She appealed to Clarke, “He’ll be a good asset”

“You should keep him close,” Bellamy spoke, shifting his eyes down toward the ground before readying his own gun to take aim at the red curtain. 

Clarke narrowed her eyes, “Why do we need to keep him close?”

Bellamy’s feet shifted, refusing to meet the two girl’s eyes. Y/N shifted her eyes from the floor to the freckles on his face, something uneasy stirring within her as Bellamy continued to sway awkwardly. She moved her furrowed gaze to his pack, stuffed with rations taken from the camp. She already knew what his plan was.

“You’re gonna run.” She spoke, her tone resigned. 

“Y/N--” Bellamy moved forward,

“Don’t” she stopped him, holding up her hand, a lackluster smile hanging from her lips, “I-uh I thought you were different, turns out you’re just like everyone else.”

She shoved past him, disappearing behind the curtain before storming up the staircase, anger wracking her chest as the all too familiar numbness returned. The cold metal of the stairs seeping through her jeans. 

***

Bellamy stared at the empty spot where Y/N had stood, his head bowed as the familiar guilt slithered through him. He had proved her right. 

“You can’t leave Bellamy.” Clarke tried to appeal to him, but he simply grit his teeth and turned away from the blonde. “Octavia needs you.”

“Octavia hates me” Bellamy mumbled, refusing to think about his failing relationship with his sister. “She’ll be fine.” He lined up to take another shot when Clarke placed a hand on the barrel.

“If you won’t stay for Octavia then stay for Y/N.”

He froze at the mention of the girl he had grown close with over these past few weeks. He shot off a round, trying to ignore Clarke’s knowing stare at his back.

“I see the way you look at her,” The blonde continued, “You need her, and though she won’t admit it, she needs you too.”

He shook his head and handed her the gun, “Keep practicing,” Bellamy instructed, refusing to entertain the idea Clarke was offering, “I need some air.” 

As he pushed past the curtain, he met the cold stare of Y/N as she sat atop the metal stairs, the moonlight at her back, illuminating her seething figure. He tore his eyes away from her and pushed himself upward into the forest air, closing his eyes to try and calm himself down, wondering if Clarke was right and she needed him as much as he needed her.

***

She tugged at her jacket sleeve, picking at the loose threads while she contemplated her relationship with Bellamy. He was just going to leave her without saying goodbye. What gave him the right? Who told him that was okay?

“Love is weakness” A cold voice stated beside her, Y/N looked to her side to see a dark-haired woman with a somber look on her face. “That’s what I decided to teach you.” The unknown woman’s dark gaze met her own, “and I think that is my biggest regret.”

“Who are you?” Y/N asked, unsure what this woman was talking about. She was much older, probably in her early thirties, and she bore a striking resemblance to her late mother.

“My name is Becca, and I’m the one who’s been appearing in your dreams” 

Y/N pulled back, wondering why this woman was sitting next to her and how she had survived the bombs. This was the woman whose screams permeated her mind? The woman she saw burned at the stake every night? 

The woman whose voice had driven her mother mad?

“My goal was to create a permanent solution for the human race. To make life better.” Becca paused, letting out a sigh, “Instead I caused a nuclear apocalypse and came to earth, leaving my child alone in the hopes that she would atone for my sins,” 

Becca stared up at the ceiling, drawing her lips into a straight line before her glassy eyes turned back toward her, “And instead she had you." 

Y/N sprang up at the news, catching her breath as realization struck her. Her mouth hung open. 

This was the Becca her mother had talked about? This was the Becca whose notes she had taken as gospel? This was her grandmother? 

"What the hell are you talking about?" She stormed out of the bunker, her body shaking. Becca following her into the forest.

"I don't have much time, but I need you to know this," Becca called growing frantic, grasping ahold of her shoulders. It almost felt real. 

"You grew up in a world where there are two choices. Death or survival. But there's always another choice. Always.” Becca bit her lip as she scanned her granddaughter’s face, something akin to love in her gaze, “You're ruthless and that helps you down here, but there's one lesson I need to impart. One lesson I forgot to give to my commanders and Alie."

Y/N creased her brow in confusion at the rant, unsure what Becca was talking about or how any of this related to her.

"How you reach the goal matters." Becca began to dissipate, fading from her touch, "More than anything."

She shook her head free and found herself staring at the ground with a searing headache. Jesus, what was in those nuts? Was what she just saw real? Had she really seen her long-dead relative alive? Or was that another nightmare that had decided to plague her as well?

"No please!" 

Y/N turned around at the voice, knowing exactly who it belonged to.

"Bellamy?!" She called through the trees, sprinting toward the voices calling out for help.

"I'm sorry!"

She crawled through the thicket of trees until she was standing near the edge of a small ravine. Bellamy sat on his knees, mumbling to himself.

"Bellamy?" Y/N called again, standing in front of the hallucinating adult. Bellamy shook, eyes glancing beyond her, gazing at some unseen entity.

"Please, kill me." Bellamy whispered before shouting into the abyss, "I can't fight ANYMORE!"

She knelt down next to the leader, her heart pulling itself into pieces at the phrase. The same phrase she had told herself so many times. 

"Bellamy, Bellamy listen to me!" Y/N called, "You are not allowed to die okay? Not on my watch. You're going to be okay" She grasped his shoulders, hoping it would be enough to pull him out of it. 

"Bellamy, you're a fighter, okay? You have to keep fighting. For Octavia, for the camp. For me." She pleaded, breaths growing shallower as tears began to stream down Bellamy's grimy face. "If I'm not allowed to die, you're not allowed to die! You hear me?"

Bellamy froze in place, his hand reaching upward to grasp the hand that had moved from his shoulder to his face. His glossed over eyes returned to their original brown as he met Y/N's pleading gaze.

"Y/N?"

She let out a relieved laugh at her name falling from his lips. "It's me, I'm here." She reassured him as he pulled her in for a tight embrace, "I'm here Bellamy."

His body tensed and she pulled out of the embrace and whipped around to see Dax, gun pointed at the both of them. He let out a round. Y/N rolled away, barely avoiding the bullet.

"Nothing personal" He sneered as Bellamy reached beside him, his hand pulling up nothing.

A click of the rifle pulled Y/N away from the scene before her, Clarke standing at the tree line above the ravine, gun drawn. She began to stand up as Dax was distracted by Clarke.

"Put the gun down Dax" Clarke ordered, weapon trained on the bigger delinquent. 

He disobeyed her warning and the click of the trigger was heard, except no kickback followed. The bullets were duds. Dax shot back, Clarke narrowly dodging it by diving behind a tree.

Y/N launched herself at the bigger kid, wrapping her arms around his neck as she climbed aboard his back, hoping she had enough strength to weaken his windpipe.

She slammed the ground as Dax threw her off, pointing the barrel directly at her head.

"No!" Bellamy cried as he lunged toward Dax, grabbing him around the midsection and temporarily pinning him to the ground. Y/N struggled to her feet, her side splitting in pain as her arm wound reopened. Dax was atop Bellamy, his hands wrapped around his neck.

"No" Y/N cried, voice hoarse as she crawled forward, Dax's elbow knocking her to the ground. She watched as Bellamy stuck the dud bullet in Dax's throat, causing the bigger delinquent to fall to the ground. 

Dead.

She propped herself against a tree, putting pressure on her newly opened wound. Bellamy joined her soon after, their ragged breaths the only sound in the forest.

"I'll get that." He finally spoke, gesturing to the open wound.

Y/N shook her head, "Worry about yourself first," she responded, gesturing to the cuts and bruises that covered his tanned skin. Bellamy had already cut a strip of cloth from his pants, using the dark material as a makeshift bandage, tying it off. 

She was thankful for the darkness, it kept her from wondering why Bellamy didn’t seem phased by the color of her blood.

Clarke joined them soon enough, pushing herself against the trunk, she whispered to herself, "Okay, we're okay."

"No, I'm not" Bellamy stared at the ground, horror written across his face, "My mother…if she knew what I've done…She raised me to be good. Instead, all I do is hurt people."

He inhaled.

"I'm a monster."

Y/N spared a sympathetic glance toward him, her heart began to pull at itself once again, urging her to move forward. Empathy for his plight overwhelmed her, pulsing through her veins until she stopped being stubborn enough to listen to it.

There's always another choice.

"You aren't a monster Bellamy," Y/N promised, causing his eyes to glance up at her. "You're a survivor. You're a fighter. You kept me alive when all I wanted to do was die. Now it's my turn. We'll get through this, I promise,"

She shifted her body to face his.

"You may be a total ass half the time, but you've helped us survive." She made her choice, "I need you, we all need you. You can’t run."

When Bellamy gazed at her she knew she made the right one. 

Love is not weakness.

"Jaha will kill me when he comes down." Was all he said.

"No, he won't." Y/N spoke, determined, scooting closer to him, "I won't let him, and we'll figure something out."

He sighed as he leaned his head upward toward the sky. "Can we figure it out tomorrow?"

She joined him, her hand mingling with his loose fingers near the base of the tree.

"Whenever you’re ready."

Bringing the rifles back to camp had calmed the chaos down. They no longer had to be afraid of the grounders. They could defend themselves. They could survive.

Except Becca's words wouldn't stop ringing in her head.

How you reach the goal matters.

Why would she need to know that? What else awaited them on the ground?

"Hey" Bellamy's voice called from behind her, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Hey" she swallowed the nerves down her throat, finally recognizing them for what they were. "How was the pardoning?"

"Done," Bellamy smiled softly, "Turns out, Jaha's pretty okay with blackmail."

Y/N let out a small chuckle at the joke, the warmth in her stomach flooding her whole body.  When had he become so essential to her? When had he started to matter?

"I think your boyfriend's waiting for you," Bellamy said tightly, gesturing his shoulder toward the radio tent.

Y/N creased her face in confusion, "I don't have a boyfriend," She announced, watching as Bellamy's eyes lit up at the news before he turned back to his stoic self.

"So who's Kyle Wick?" He asked, brow furrowing in confusion.

The butterfly-like sensation returned as her body flooded with endorphins at the name, racing toward the inside of the tent to talk to the dirty blonde engineer that had appeared on the radio.

"Kyle!" She yelled into the earpiece.

"Hey, Sparky!" Wick called from the monitor. "Kane didn't want to let me see you, but thank goodness for Sinclair am I right?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, "Marcus is a dick, you know that better than anyone." She giggled, unaware of how much she used to laugh in Wick's presence. She missed it. "I finally met the Monty you were so excited about."

Wick's eyes lit up, "Hell yeah, I knew you two would get along. So how's the ground?"

She still couldn't believe she was talking to him. "It's…amazing and terrifying."

"Sounds perfect for you then." Kyle teased, a smile tugging on his lips.

"Shut up, Mr. I have perfect follow through." Y/N threw back, her smile never leaving her face.

"I Do!" Wick protested, sending the woman on the other side in a fit of giggles. When they died down he finally asked his question. "So who's the moody guy who wanted to know who I was?"

Y/N sighed as she braced herself for this conversation. "Bellamy Blake"

"The guy who shot Jaha?" Wick's eyes widened, voice rising in surprise. "Never pegged you for the dangerous type."

"He's just a friend Wick." Y/N explained, her stomach screaming in protest as it flipped and flopped around.

Wick raised an eyebrow. "Really? Because I think you better tell him that." He leaned back in the chair as he continued, "Look, Y/N, it's totally okay if you want to move on--"

"No" She cut him off, not ready to have this conversation, "It's not that."

"So what is it?" Wick asked, growing curious. "I know we couldn't make it work, so if you need closure--"

She cut him off again, "Just--I'll tell you when you get down here. But for now, there's no 'we' it's just…me and Bellamy."

He leaned forward. "Do you want it to just 'you and Bellamy'?"

"No. Yes? Maybe? I don't know." Y/N confessed, finally admitting to herself what she actually felt for the older leader. "Just get down here soon so I don't have to deal with these…feelings all on my own."

"Copy that" Wick announced, "feelings are disgusting, I'll be down as soon as I can."

Y/N smiled softly, placing the headset down and joining Miller at the firepit, gaze latching onto Bellamy's, a small smile shared between the two of them.

Oooooh. Looks like Bellamy isn’t the only one catching feelings. Also, I love Wick and felt like his character was so wasted on the show. I have a really cool arc for him and Y/N if we get to season two, so please keep commenting and reblogging!

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[willow-salix]

Isolation update!

Day 74 of Isolation on Tracy Island

“What on earth are you two doing?” Gordon asked, popping up out of nowhere like a tropical jack-in-the-box, his shirt flapping in the breeze, making us both jump.

We were doing nothing more exciting than stretching out on the couch, where I had forced John to settle by laying on him and then demanded he read to me. And since that was actually a pretty normal occurrence, I was at a loss as to what he was referring to. Knowing him he'd just declared today to be "eat with your toes day" or something equally ridiculous and was annoyed we weren't playing along.

John stopped reading to glare at him. I lifted my head off his shoulder to join in with the glaring.

“We were trying to have a quiet moment without constant interruptions,” I told him. Why did he have to have so many brothers?

“I told you we should have gone up to Five for a few days,” John sighed, picking up the book again and continuing to read from where he had left off. I snuggled closer to listen.

“This supernatural soliciting

Cannot be ill, cannot be good. If ill,

Why hath it given me earnest of success,

Commencing in a truth? I am Thane of Cawdor.

If good, why do I yield to that suggestion

Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair

And make my seated heart knock at my ribs,

Against the use of nature? Present fears

Are less than-”

“That! That’s what I meant. What are you doing?” Gordon interrupted again.

“Trying to read Macbeth, obviously,” I grumbled.

“Why? It’s rubbish. No one reads that sort of thing any more.”

“Sure they do. Did you not read Shakespear in highschool?” I asked.

“Only when I had to, not for fun," he sneered that last word in the same tone people use when they have just trodden in something disgusting or realised there is no milk left in the house.

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” I told him.

“You two are so weird, there are billions of books out there and you are reading one so old that hardly anyone can even understand it any more.”

“We understand it, or we wouldn't be reading it,” John sighed. “It’s not our fault that it’s too intellectual for you.”

“I could understand it just fine if I wanted to!” Gordon protested. We snorted in disbelief. “Hey! I can be an intellectual too, I can be smart. Move over!”

He shoved our legs out of the way, forcing us to sit up and dropped down next to me on the couch.

“Do you have to be here?” John asked.

“Yes. I’m going to prove that I’m smart, keep reading.”

John sighed but continued where he had left off, obviously knowing that there is very little point arguing with him.

“Are less than horrible imaginings.

My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical.

Shakes so my single state of man.

That function is smothered in-”

“Nope! I can’t do it! It’s just so boring!” Gordon wailed.

“Heathen!” I smacked him with a cushion.

“Out of my sight! Thou doth infect my eyes!” John flicked his forehead.

“What was that?” Gordon asked, beginning to laugh. “Did you just insult me in your weird Shakespear language?”

"Yes, because we invented old English," I sighed.

“Thou art a dull and muddy-mettled rascal.”

“Did you just call me stupid in old english?”

“Yep,” I grinned. “He did. It isn't boring, Shakespear is a total G.”

“Yeah, right, still sounds boring to me.”

“Macbeth is a masterpiece, it's about a Scottish dude and his mate who meet these three witches and they, out of the goodness of their hearts, give him a prophecy telling him that he’ll become king of Scotland but that his mate will father a whole line of Scottish kings but won't be king himself. Feeling like this is totally his destiny he isn’t prepared to wait it out and see what happens, he wants to be king now, so, with the urging of his wife, he kills the king and his mate. He is crowned but he becomes overwhelmed with guilt and paranoia. He goes back to the witches and they tell him that he must beware of some other dude named Macduff but that Macbeth is incapable of being harmed by any man born of a woman. So Maccy B, he gets a bit cocky and thinks it's all good for a while, even though Macbeth’s wife is going a little cray cray and taking the whole handwashing thing a wee bit too seriously. But then Macduff gets in on the action and brings an army with him, they storm the castle and Macduff tells old Bethy that he was born by cesarean-”

“Untimely ripped from his mother's womb,” John added.

“And Duffy beheads Macbeth and this other dude named Malcom that I forgot to mention, becomes king. See? It’s great!”

“Love, you just butchered Shakespear so badly that even I didn’t understand half of what you just said.”

“It’s my gift to the world,” I shrugged. “My ability to sum up a plot so badly that even I’m not sure if it makes sense. But I thought I did OK with that one.”

“Yeahhh, not so much,” Gordon teased. “I tuned you out three words in.”

“John, insult your brother for me, I am no longer talking to him.”

“Thou yeasty folly-fallen bladder.”

“How dare you, sir! I have no idea what that means but it sounds bad.”

“That’s kind of the point.”

“What’s the point?” Scott chose that moment to walk in, catching the tail end of the conversation.

“John is insulting me!”

“What did you do?”

“Insulted him.”

“I was asking Gordon.”

I cracked up laughing, Scott always has our backs.

“He said that Shakespeare was boring and then was mean to me after I took the time to explain the plot to him. Now I’m not talking to him.”

“Did you explain it the same way you explained The Witches of Eastwick to Virgil? Because I’d seen it and I didn’t understand that either.”

“My talents are wasted on you all,” I nudged John and quirked an eyebrow in Scott’s direction. He rolled his eyes but dutifully dragged out a premium insult.

“Sense sure you haven else could not have motion; but sure that sense is apoplex’d. ”

“Oh my god, you can still do that?” Scott laughed in amazement.

“Do what, insult people?” Gordon asked, clearly confused.

“John was in a Shakespearean insult team in highschool, they actually took part in competitions, he was obviously the champion, won them the league and a bust of Shakespeare’s head as a trophy.”

“Obviously,” I agreed, patting his hand proudly. “Dude got mad skills.”

Gordon's eyes flicked up to the bookshelf on the balcony above our heads where a small gold bust sat.

“You are so weird.”

“So you frequently tell me. Now, will you two kindly go away and leave us in peace?”

“Oh no, no way,” Scott laughed. “I want to hear more, in fact, I’m calling the others.”

And that’s the story of how John spent more than three hours blowing their minds and damaging their egos with a never ending volley of insults as they goaded him into more and more outlandish attacks. Here are some of the best.

Thou hath not so much brain as ear wax - to Gordon because he’s not intelligent enough to appreciate old english.

Thou qualling ill-nurtured lout - to Alan who kept chanting “me next, me next”.

Most shallow man! Thou worms-meat in respect of a good piece of flesh indeed- to Virgil because he was in the middle of trying to tame his hair when he was summoned.

Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear, Thou lily-liver’d boy - to Scott because he was brave enough to attempt to insult him back.

Thou fawning spur-galled harpy!- at me when I stole his coffee

You should be women, and yet your beards forbid me to interpret that you are so- to all of them.

Your face is a book, where men may read strange matters- to me, because I’m a strange, strange lady and asked for another insult.

Thou fusty onion-eyed nut-hook! - at Virgil, no reason at all.

Draw thy tool. My naked weapon is out- after flipping a certain finger at Scott.

Thou wimpled bat-fowling puttock- at Gordon because it was his fault that John was stuck insulting people when he had just wanted a quiet afternoon.

Thou currish bade-court hedge-pig- at Alan while examining his chin growth.

What, you egg! Young fry of treachery! - at Alan when he sided with Gordon.

Assume a virtue if you have it not- at Gordon when he protested his innocence.

Thou artless tickle-brained haggard! - at Virgil when he compared John’s nose to Shakespeare’s massive hooter.

Thou villainous weather-brained barnacle!- at Gordon, just because, and now everyone is calling him a weather-brained barnacle.

Get thee to a nunnery- to me when I said his Shakespearean accent was strangely hot.

Thou puny rampallian baggage- at Gordon, for no reason other than he’s short.

Thou art some fool, I am loath to beat thee- at Scott when he attempted to start a Shakespearean rap battle (don’t ask, it didn’t last long)

Thine face is not worth sunburning- to Virgil who thinks he’s too cool for sunscreen and has a red nose because he fell asleep in the sun again.

You yourself, sir, shall grow old as I am if like a crab you could go backwards- at Jeff who wanted to know just what the heck was happening in his lounge and why we were all screaming with hysterical laughter.

I scorn you, scurvy companion. What, you poor, base, rascally, cheating, lack-linen mate! Away, you moldy rogue away!- at Alan when he tried to steal one of John’s cookies while he was distracted.

Away, you bottle-ale rascal, you filthy bung, away!- At Gordon when he also attempted cookie theft.

The insult lashes came to a halt when Grandma called us for dinner.

“Hey, John?” Gordon whispered as we bundled down the stairs to the kitchen

“Yeah?”

“I dare you to insult Grandma’s cooking.”

“No, my love, it’s not worth it, think of the children!” I gasped.

“What children?” he asked, genuinely perplexed.

I shrugged. “Our non-existent children, I just thought I'd go full movie heroine for dramatic effect. You do what you want, you’re all crazy.”

He narrowed his eyes as he thought about it, then nodded. I should have known, no Tracy can resist a dare.

Grandma plonked down plates of something that might have been chicken, but also might have been sausages in a gravy for gruel straight out of a Dickensean nightmare.

I watched John out of the corner of my eye. Would he actually do it? He took a deep breath, as if psyching himself up for it. I couldn't blame him. He pushed the plate away and opened his mouth.

“Away, you starvelling, you elf-skin, you dried neat’s-tongue, bull’s-pizzle, you stock-fish! Tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers.”

I think John’s grounded now, but the boys still haven't stopped laughing...

[nessamaurice]

Simple Ch. 2 (Loki x F!Reader)

Masterlist

Summary: Tony and the Avengers are in desperate need of something like a “babysitter” to have an eye on Loki and teach him “how to human”. He decided to stay on Midgard over the dungeons of Asgard as punishment for his deeds in New York. That’s where you swoop in. A simple receptionist at the Avengers compound. You have to share an apartment in the compound with Loki and damn, he’s a really tough nut. With your open and kind character it seems that you are slowly cracking his shell. But suddenly things are getting twists that will change your life and your relationships there irreversibly.

Story rating: M

Chapter trigger warnings: n/a

Words: 2492

2

Your head just did not keep quiet.

Oh my god, what have I done. I don't want to be kicked. I really like my job. Don't fire me, oh lord have mercy with my poor soul.

Your mind went on and on while you followed the famous Hawkeye through corridors of the compound you never saw before. You stepped into a lift and the doors closed. You noticed that he did not push any button but the elevator started to move anyway. You glanced over to him and caught your own reflection in the mirror of the lift wall. Embarrassed you shut your mouth that was still open. You stared at your shoes (which were pretty dirty as you just noticed) and you wished so much you would not be wearing your favorite Star Wars shirt under your cardigan right now (the combination looked really good and the cardigan hid your nerdiness) as the heat in your cheeks did not stop rising.

"You don't have to be nervous."

You audibly gasped as Clint Barton pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked at him from the corner of your eye and saw him smirking. You wished you could bang your head against the wall.

He leant a little over to you and lowered his voice. "You are not in trouble. We just have an offer for you." He leant back again. "But Tony wants to present it to you himself. Typical." He rolled his eyes really hard. He noticed that you had turned your head to him and you must have looked a bit puzzled `cause he said "Well, if you knew Tony you'd understand what I mean."

"Oh, I know." You said out of a reflex and immediately pressed your lips together in regret.

Now he turned his head to you, asking you with his eyes.

"I, uhm, I know him from the TV in interviews and sometimes he crosses the entrance hall, followed by several persons most of the time and, uhm, well, he has a loud voice so it's not hard to hear what he says and how he says it and... uh" You paused to find the right words to say what you were thinking without giving them a reason to fire you now, "I think he likes to set the tone." You smiled a bit as you compared your thoughts with your words and were proud of yourself. Quickly you added "And of course he has every right to do so, he's a genius and deserves every attention he gets."

After a very, very long second of silence, all Hawkeye did was let out a little snorty laugh.

Shortly after the lift stopped. Just before the doors opened, Clint Barton patted you a bit roughly on your back, which made you stumble a small step forwards, and said "Don't worry, you'll do great."

He stepped outside and you just followed him. Eventually he stopped, opened a door, held it open for you and waited for you to get in first. You took a deep breath and went inside.

In the meeting room was a long table with several chairs around it. The left side of the room was just one giant window. In the other corner of the room stood a man in jeans and a dark t-shirt (which turned out to be a Black Sabbath tour shirt) looking out of the window. As you entered, he turned around.

"Ah, you got to be Miss Y/N" he almost sang as he crossed the room quickly to get to you, stretching out his hand. You stared a moment too long at the hand, now being in front of you, before you grabbed and shook it.

"Uhm, yeah, hello Mr. Stark. What an honor to meet you." You stammered while smiling a bit helplessly.

"Oh, let's keep it casual if you don't mind. Tony." He grinned right into your face which just worsened your blushing. You assumed you just reached level tomato red. A very short moment his facial expression shifted just a little bit. He focused on your face, seemed to search certain features. Just as if he knew you from somewhere. But that lasted just like two seconds before he returned to his childish grin.

"Sure!" You cleared your throat; that came out a bit too enthusiastic, "Sure. A pleasure. Oh and of course, it's just Y/N to you."

"Alright! Sit down please."

He gestured you to one of the chairs. While you sat down he pulled a small plastic bag out of nowhere and offered it to you.

"Cashews?"

You couldn't help but smile and grabbed some, thankful to have something to do with your hands besides fumbling on your clothes.

"Okay. Barton?"

He simply nodded, waved someone to come in and joined you on the chair next to you. You simply smiled at him, chewing on your cashews as you heard the door closing and looked to the entrance again. You literally almost choked on the kernels as you gasped "Whoa fuck!" Right there in front of you stood no one less than Thor himself. You pressed your hand on your mouth to stop you from saying more swearing and spitting the food around.

The broadest of smiles in his face, he just said "Mylady.", leaning slightly forwards into a little bow.

You silently watched him getting closer to you with just a few steps. He took your hand and placed a decent kiss on its back.

Staring at him in all his armour, surrounded by some strange sort of glory, you swallowed hard.

"Hello! Uhm, Thor, I guess?" You smiled nervously. You noticed all the smirking from the other two men.

"You guess right. Your name is Lady Y/N, right?"

"Just Y/N, yes, thank you."

"Okay!" Tony said while clapping in his hands. "Everybody's here. So, Y/N, let me explain what's going on here. Thor, sit down please, otherwise she will just keep staring at your shiny hair." Your brain took a second to process what you were hearing and immediately turned your attention to Tony.

"Fine. Y/N, I am sorry to say that, but over the last month we observed some of our employees without informing them and one of them was you."

"I knew it!" you whispered to yourself, a bit too loud. "I'm sorry. It's okay, I don't mind."

Tony grinned a moment before he continued. "You noticed that, very good. No one else did. I'm honest, you are not our first choice for this job."

"She was mine." Clint interrupted. Tony's answer was just a dark glare before he continued.

"We tried it out with two other employees but none of them could handle the task, they gave up after a few days. I have to admit, this job is not easy. But on the other hand, it is pretty easy. First of all, I have to ask you a serious question and you have to answer it absolutely honestly. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir. Tony. Sorry."

Ignoring your stuttering he sat down on the table right next to you. His gaze turned a bit darker, steadily focusing on your face.

"Is there anything special about you? ... Not like you are not unique and this stuff", he added as you furrowed your brows on that strange question. "I mean, do you have any gifts? Super specialized knowledge we couldn't find out during observation?"

"Oooh" you let out in understanding, "Like telekinesis and stuff? Or a secret PhD in astrophysics? Noo, no, clearly not. I'm totally normal. I'm just a secretary. The only talent I have is that I can draw, well, not that bad."

"She's a very skilled artist" Clint suddenly corrected you. "But that is not important for the mission. No danger here."

"Great! Do you have any responsibilities that bind you to any person? Or maybe a pet?"

A bit confused you said, "Uhm, no..? I'm single and all I have is a salt water aquarium. I don't have any relatives to maybe look after, neither. If that is what you meant. I don't have any relatives at all. ... My family died early and I since had no other relatives to take care of me, a friend of my mother adopted me. But she died some years ago so... yeah. Just me." You added in explanation and stopped your own rambling.

Tony glanced quickly over to Clint who nodded sharply.

"Fish tank, okay that's no problem. In that case, I hand the word over to our big blonde one." Tony said pointing with his open hand at Thor.

"Thank you. Mylady, you surely know of the attack of the Chitauri lately. And I am sure you know that my brother Loki was in account of that. I took him back to our homeworld, Asgard, to obtain justice for all he did. He was offered two choices; to spend the rest of his days in our dungeon as a prisoner or to leave Asgard forever and stay on Midgard. If he would choose the second option, as soon as he would do any harm to Midgard or its people, he would be sentenced to death. At first, he wanted to stay on Asgard. But that... it did not work very well for him. He became more and more miserable, so I convinced him to take the other option. I was able to win our father over to put up that option again and now he is here. But after all he did, it is hard to trust him, especially now at the beginning. So Stark was so noble to offer my brother to stay here. We all got missions to look after, we cannot watch him all the time. So we decided to introduce him to someone to get him used to a life on Midgard."

"Okay, ehm, wow", you started after some awful long moments of processing, words failing you, "But, when I'm allowed to ask, why no SHIELD agent? I guess he's kinda... dangerous? How can you be sure he won't try to trick or kill me?"

"That's simple", Tony said, "because you are just a normal person. Sorry, no insult", he added lukewarm, "Therefore you are of no use for him.” He paused for a second, tilting his head. “I'm... I'm sorry, do we know us from somewhere? I can't shake off the feeling we already met."

"I don't think so? Oh, I'm working here down at the reception, maybe that's why I seem familiar. You never spoke to me but you often cross the entrance hall and I sit there all day. Well, most of the time I'm hiding behind the desk. Not that I want to hide, it's just because I'm in charge of the emails most of the time so my attention is to the screen. Uhm, yeah." You grew so hot you wished you could take of that cardigan without revealing your geek.

"Ah yeah. That'll be it. Are you okay? You look like you would faint."

"What? Oh, no, sorry, it's just a little hot", you held your ice cold hands to your cheeks, "I've never fainted once in my life. Everything's fine."

Tony kept staring at you for just a moment longer before jumping off the desk and turning to the coffee machine next to the door.

"Alright! Any questions?"

Unwieldy you took off your cardigan finally and try to hide the broad STAR WARS writing on it with your arms without looking totally awkward. You failed.

"Uhm, yeah. What exactly do I have to with him? Entertain him? Show him our world?"

With a steaming mug in his hand he turned around again and stared at your shirt for a second before answering.

"Love that shirt. First of all, try not to kill him. That could be the hardest part."

"How does it all work?"

"You will have to move in here. We have something like a little flat. We all live here. And with 'we all' I mean the avengers. Everyone has their own space, but we have a common room with a kitchen and stuff. We're like a big, crazy patchwork family." He grinned quickly before taking a big sip from his mug.

"Oh. Wow. Okay. That's a big move. What happens to my stuff? How long will all this take? Will you fire me completely when I mess this up or can I return to my reception desk when I can't do this? What if the others of you don't like me? What if I'm totally useless for you? How can I be sure your brother, what was his name? Loki? Right. How can I be sure Loki won't kill me?"

"You can take as much stuff with you as you want, we have space enough. We don't know how long it will take, probably several months the least. No, of course not, if you want to quit this you can get back to your emails. Don't worry about the others, when we can handle each other we are able to get along with a regular person. No matter how this will turn out, we will have advantage from learning so there is no chance for being useless. He got a little receiver injected under his skin and you will get a bracelet with an emergency button. If you feel threatened, press it once, we will get notified and be there within a minute. If you are in complete distress, keep it pressed for at least 3 seconds and Loki will get... a little electronic tickle. In that case, we also get notified but he won't be able to move for a few minutes. I know, that sounds fun, but just use this in case of emergency."

While processing what you heard you realized you relaxed completely. Resting the ankle of one foot on the knee of the other, you sprawled out on the chair, eating the cashews from your hand. You immediately snapped back to attention, not wanting to be taken as disrespectful.

"Relax Y/N. Don't act like I'm the president. I'm just a normal man. With a genius mind and unbelievable abilities, but - just a man."

You caught Clint next to you rolling his eyes, facepalming.

"So, what do you say? Interested? Oh, and of course you will get paid for your service. Catering and all essentials you need are on me. Don't worry about that. And we have room for your fishies."

"Ehm, well, it sounds really exciting. And since nothing ever happens to me, I'm seduced to say yes right away. But,", you held up one finger, "I would like to meet Loki first. Oh, and I want to know why the other two quit."

"We can arrange that. And they quit because he pissed them off too much. No life threat, he can just be a little pain in the ass. Uhm, do you want to meet him now?"

[king-paimon]

HNK Opinion: Defending the Earth gems

This has been a post that I’d been meaning to post for a good, long while and because the new chapter is supposedly focusing on the earth gems, I thought now would be a good time to post it, especially since the chapter will be popping up soon. This post was constructed BEFORE the Chapter 83 leak, so there won’t be any information from that chapter here.

Warning: This post contains opinions and critiques that may be very different from most in the HnK fandom, especially regarding the earth gems and their currently destroyed relationship with Phos. I know some will strongly disagree with me and I hope I won’t upset you too much with what I have to say. I promise, I’m not looking for a fight; I just want to give my honest thoughts about these characters as well as how I feel about the fandom’s treatment towards them thus far. I was honestly debating on whether to post this for a long time because I was scared of any backlash...But you know what? I’m going for it.This will be another really long post. If you want to comment or discuss anything in this post, feel free to reblog, comment, or even send an ask. I’d love to have a conversation about this. Again, hopefully I won’t make too many people upset. And sorry for my messy formatting again; I’m not very confident in my writing skills. Anyways, here we GO!

I must first say that these thoughts have been festering in my mind for a while, especially after noticing many posts about the growing hatred towards the earth gems, especially in the most recent chapters. Some people being angry at them for not listening to Phos, fighting him, shattering him, and in the latest chapters, chasing Phos down like an animal. So… yeah, I can see why they’re getting a lot of hate. But, in my opinion, this isn’t fair to them.

I want to make it clear that I don’t think that the earth gems are completely in the right for all of their actions, but I also don’t think they’re in the wrong. Simply based from what happened in the story from the earth gems’ perspective, especially their interactions with Phos ever since he first came back from the moon, most of their actions and shifted attitude towards Phos is justifiable. (With emphasis on most)

Burnt bridges: The destroyed relationship between Phos and the earth gems

Recall what happened the first two times that Phos came back from the moon but see if from the earth gems’ perspective:

The first time: Phos convinces (or to not sugarcoat: manipulates) a good handful of the gems to go with him to the moon, a place where many of their other comrades had been taken and had not come back. Most of the gems already had their own reasons for wanting to go to the moon, save for Padparadscha and Cairgorm, and Phos intentionally feed into their curiosity to get them to go with him. (Chapter 60, page 13; Chapter 65, page 04) Other than his one-sided confrontation with Adamant, I’m pretty sure he didn’t tell the full truth behind his actions to the other gems: he just gave his selected few bait that would influence them to come with him to the moon. And though he did do it for their benefit (or so he wants to believe), the main drive behind this act to get a reaction from Adamant for Aechmea. Some of the earth gems were already wary of Phos because of how he was acting but this main act sealed how most of the earth gems would see Phos from then on: a wolf in sheep’s clothing. (or: a Lunarian in gem clothing, though it’s literally the other way around… I hope you get what I mean)

(Chapter 60, page 13)

(Chapter 65, page 04)

The second time: Phos comes back with clear stated intentions of ‘breaking’ Adamant. Throughout the two chapters, Phos repeatedly tells the gems that Adamant was just ‘a broken machine’ who didn’t truly care about them and that dealing with him and for the other gems to change ‘was for their own good.’  

(Chapter 69, page 19)

(Page 70, page 09)

So, at least to me, it made sense that the earth gems would be reacted the way that they did. However, I’ll give credit to Phos for actually speaking some of the truth behind his actions, though Bort refused to listen.  

(Chapter 70, page 07)

But honestly, after what he did the first visit he came back, why would Bort believe Phos? This information was coming from Phos after all, and he’s now known by the others for his manipulating skills and is believed to be corrupted by the Lunarians and his own weak will (according to Bort), so why should they trust what he’s saying? Sure, Adamant advocated for Phos and pleaded with the earth gems to go to the moon, but besides seeing Padparadscha move again though was described as also being ‘nuts’ and possibly also ‘corrupted’, they still don’t have reason to believe going to the moon is a good idea. And as far as they’ve seen, Phos’s actions seemed to benefit the Lunarians more than them.

Maybe if Phos told them all of this instead of taking the others to the moon, maybe the gems would’ve been more willing to believe him?  But after all that had happened thus far, I think that ship had sailed, for this event just further cemented the distrust the earth gems had with Phos. At least Euclase seems to be one of the very few who’s still interested in salvaging the relationship, whether it’s because he does want the relationship back or use it to figure out what exactly was going on with Phos and the other moon gems.

The third time: I think it was at this point of the story that I started seeing parts of the fandom strongly disliking the earth gems, and while I totally understand where they’re coming from, I strongly don’t agree. Yes, this time Phos came back with intentions to just talk, to possible negotiate with Adamant and the other gems and yes, it would have been nice to have the earth gems listen to what Phos had to say. But really… after what happened the last two times he came back and after seeing how the earth gems were processing everything, why would anyone think that the earth gems welcome Phos back with open arms? Other than Euclase and maybe Cinnabar, the kinship the others once felt for Phos is gone.

The other part of these chapters that generated a lot of anger towards the earth gems was the shattering of Phos. Again, I understand the anger but this action, in my opinion, is also reasonable if you look at what happened from their perspective. We as the readers assume that Phos reaching out towards Adamant at the end of chapter 77 was a desperate, pleading gesture. (Chapter 77, page 18) But from the earth gems perspective, this was another act of aggression. Remember, the gems have already witnessed Phos act aggressively towards Adamant multiple times both before and after he went to the moon, and the gems knew that Phos had ill intentions for Adamant the last time came back, hence why they not only hid Adamant but fought Phos. With that in mind, the earth gems simply acted accordingly by continuing to protect Adamant from Phos. (Also, it’s kind of hard to tell how fast those alloy tentacles were moving. Based on how the page was laid out, it could’ve been a slow movement, but it could’ve been a fast one, too. If it was a fast motion, then it would also make sense why the gems quickly threw their weapons at Phos.) And I’m sure that this engrained perception of Phos has been further strengthened after the gems clearly witness Phos attacking Adamant after the 200-year skip in chapters 79 and 80. Again, from their perspective, they see Phos attacking and they acted accordingly.

So, after all of this, what does Phos’s track record look like in the eyes of the earth gems:

Phos broke the trust of his fellow gems

Phos manipulated most of the susceptible gems with half-truth/empty promises for better things, and he took most of them to the moon, the final resting place of past gems

Phos was willing to attack Adamant or the other gems, almost remorselessly

And though Phos may try to convince them, as well as himself, that he did these things for the greater good of all of them, these were still some very shady things that he did. So much so that if the manga was solely from the perspective of the earth gems, Phos would be painted as the villain of the story.

(Chapter 60, page 15)

Speaking of villains, I can’t help but feel like some of these facts parallel with another certain character…

(I don’t care what chapter/page I got this from. He’s always look like he’s up to something bad)

Ok... I admit. This is a bit of a stretch and I’m looking too much into this, but I can’t help but see some parallels between them, mainly with how they manipulate others for personal gain, though Aechmea is still clearly the worse and Phos is simply a poor victim of his influence who seems to get the worse out of it and currently, it doesn’t look like Phos will get out of his grasp anytime soon.

I sincerely hope someone can snap him out of it before it’s truly too late.  

My thoughts of the Fandom’s attitude towards the earth gems:

I am going to be a little heated in this section. I promise I’m not attacking anyone in particular: I’m just… really slight irritated by this certain idea that I’ve seen circulating for a while.

As mentioned before, I noticed some anger or rather frustration from the fandom towards the earth gems through chapters 70-82. So based off these past actions, was it really surprising that most the earth gems weren’t too willing to listen to Phos after he comes back a third time? I know several readers have stated that “The earth gems should have listened to what Phos had to say! They’re being unfair to Phos!” I think it was comments like this that sort of rubbed me the wrong way. 

Given the limited understanding that the earth gems have of the situation and Phos’s past actions, what sort of reaction were you guys hoping for, exactly? I’m honestly curious. After everything that they have experienced with Phos, would you expect them to just be like this?:

“Oh, hi Phos? Welcome back! I know the last time you were here, not only did you lie to us repeatedly but you also took some of our family to the moon to then come back again to ‘break’ Adamant, while telling us that you did it ‘for our own good’ without a proper explanation... but that’s water under the bridge! I’ll totally listen to what you have to say and not think that it was influenced by the Lunarians, who have taken most of our loved ones away to never be seen again!”

Ok... that was harsh of me to say or mock and I’m truly sorry to anyone that I might’ve offended but this is how I feel about this mentality.  I just don’t understand why some readers thought the earth gems would just listen to what Phos had to say after everything that happened or why they would be angry that they didn’t. Maybe I’m missing something... 

This is an honest question to anyone who reads this: What was the scenario you were hoping for upon Phos’ return? And if you were in the earth gems shoes, how would you’ve reacted? I personally can’t picture Chapter 79 and 80 go in any other direction given everything else that happened up till that point.

If things had played out differently, maybe the end result would’ve been less... harsh. Maybe if Phos was more honest with all of them when he first came back from the moon, maybe they would’ve believed more. But I know, considering the circumstances before then, specifically Adamant being elusive and not forthcoming himself, I see why Phos made his decisions, even though a lot of them were not morally good. If only they were freakn’ honest with each other, Phos and the others  But it’s too late now. Whether he intended to or not, he successfully burned bridges and when he tried to erect them back up, the earth gems tore them back down. You reap what you sow. And now Phos is in the worst mindset and I’m . Again, unlike many in the fandom, whether joking or not, I really don’t want this to lead to Phos truly going berserk and destroying the other gems. That would break my heart more than it already has and I can only imagine how Phos would feel afterwards.

Final words:

I realize that what I’ve said probably won’t sit well with some fans and they will likely disagree with me, but that’s fine. Like I said before, I didn’t intend on picking a fight with anyone and really hope didn’t offend anyone too much.  To the critics of the earth gems, even though I may disagree with you, I still respect your opinions. I just felt the need to defend the earth gems because I felt they were getting very little support for a while. Again, I’m not saying that the earth gems were completely in right nor Phos deserved what happened to him.  I am saying that I can at least understand why they acted the way that they did, just like Phos, and I just personally felt it’s unfair that they are detested for their actions while Phos doesn’t seem to get a lot of criticism for his actions. 

Maybe the new chapter will change the tune of some of the earth gems’ harsher critics, maybe it won’t. Maybe it’ll even have me change my stance on them a bit. We’ll have to wait and see I guess.

I’m nervous and excited to see what’ll happen next. But regardless of what happens, I do still hope in the end that the gems, including Phos, will come back together somehow and have a true happy ending. (Not in the morbid way, please? No turning everyone into dust or incorporating them into Phos’s broken body. Please no. Haruko Ichikawa I beg you.)

Until then…someone give that gem a hug! Please?

[innuendostudios]

Research Masterpost

This is my research list for The Alt-Right Playbook. It is a living document - I am typically adding sources faster than I am finishing the ones already on it. Notes and links below the list. Also, please note this does not include the hundreds of articles and essays I’ve read that also inform the videos - this is books, reports, and a few documentaries.

Legend: Titles in bold -> finished Titles in italics -> partially finished *** -> livetweeted as part of #IanLivetweetsHisResearch (asterisks will be a link) The book I am currently reading will be marked as such.

Media Manipulation & Disinformation Online, by Alice Marwick and Rebecca Lewis Alternative Influence, by Rebecca Lewis The Authoritarians, by Bob Altemeyer*** Eclipse of Reason, by Max Horkheimer Civility in the Digital Age, by Andrea Weckerle The Origins of Totalitarianism, by Hannah Arendt On Revolution, by Hannah Arendt Don’t Think of an Elephant, by George Lakoff The Shock Doctrine, by Naomi Klein How Propaganda Works, by Jason Stanley*** This is an Uprising, by Mark and Paul Engler Neoreaction a Basilisk, by Elizabeth Sandifer This Nonviolent Stuff'll Get You Killed, by Charles E. Cobb, Jr. Mistakes Were Made (But Not By Me), by Carol Tavris and Elliot Aronson Healing from Hate, by Michael Kimmel The Brainwashing of my Dad, doc by Jen Senko On Bullshit, by Harry Frankfurt The Reactionary Mind, by Corey Robin*** Stamped from the Beginning, Ibram X. Kendi Fascism Today, by Shane Burley Indoctrination over Objectivity?, by Marrissa S. Ballard Ur-Fascism, by Umberto Eco Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents, by Lindsay C. Gibson Anti-Semite and Jew, by Jean-Paul Sartre Alt-America, by David Neiwert*** The Dictator’s Handbook, by Bruce Bueno de Mesquita & Alastair Smith Terror, Love, and Brainwashing, by Alexandra Stein Kaputt, by Curzio Malaparte The Anatomy of Fascism, by Robert O. Paxton Neoliberalism and the Far Right, by Neil Davidson and Richard Saull Trolls Just Want to Have Fun, by Erin E. Buckels, et al The Entrepreneurial State, by Mariana Mazzucato

Media Manipulation & Disinformation Online, by Alice Marwick and Rebecca Lewis (free: link) A monstrously useful report from Data & Society which- coupled with Samuel R. Delany’s memoir The Motion of Light in Water - formed the backbone of the Mainstreaming video. I barely scratched the surface of how many techniques the Far Right uses to inflate their power and influence. If you feel lost in a sea of Al-Right bullshit, this will at least help you understand how things got the way they are, and maybe help you discern truth from twaddle.

The Authoritarians, by Bob Altemeyer (free: link) (livetweets) A free book full of research from Bob Altemeyer’s decades of study into authoritarianism. Altemeyer writes conversationally, even jovially, peppering what could have been a dense and dry work with dad jokes. I wouldn’t say he’s funny (most dads aren’t), but it makes the book blessedly accessible. If you ever wanted a ton of data demonstrating that authoritarianism is deeply correlated with conservatism, this is the book. One of the most useful resources I’ve consumed so far, heavily influencing the entire series but most directly the video on White Fascism. Even has some suggestions for how to actually change the mind of a reactionary, which is kind of the Holy Grail of LeftTube.

(caveats: there is a point in the book where Altemeyer throws a little shade on George Lakoff, and I feel he slightly - though not egregiously - misrepresents Lakoff’s arguments)

Don’t Think of an Elephant, by George Lakoff An extremely useful book about framing. Delves into the differences between the American Right and Left when it comes to messaging, how liberal politicians tend to have degrees in things like Political Science and Rhetoric, where conservatives far more often have degrees in Marketing. This leads to two different cultures, where liberals have Enlightenment-style beliefs that all  you need is good ideas and conservatives know an idea will only be popular if you know how to sell it. He gets into the nuts and bolts of how to keep control of a narrative, because the truth is only effective if the audience recognizes it as such. Kind of staggering how many Democrats swear by this book while blatantly taking none of its advice. Lakoff has been all over the series since the first proper video.

(caveats: several. Lakoff seemingly believes the main difference between the Right and Left is in our default frames, and that swaying conservatives amounts to little more than finding better ways to make the same arguments. he deeply underestimates the ideological divide between Parties, and some of his advice reads as tips for making debates more pleasant but no more productive. he also makes a passing comparison between conservatism and Islam that means well but is a gross and kinda racist false equivalence)

How Propaganda Works, by Jason Stanley (livetweets) A slog. Many useful concepts, and directly referenced in the White Fascism video. But could have said everything it needed to say in half as many pages. Stanley seems dedicated to framing everything in epistemological terms, not appealing to morality or sentiment, which means huge sections of the book are given over to “proving” democracy is a good thing using only philosophical concepts, when “democracy good” is probably something his readership already accepts. Also has a frustrating tendency to begin every paragraph with a brief summary of the previous paragraph. When he actually talks about, you know, how propaganda works, it’s very useful, and I don’t regret reading it. But I don’t entirely recommend it. Seems written for an imagined PhD review board. Might be better off reading my livetweets.

Neoreaction a Basilisk, by Elizabeth Sandier A trip. Similar to Jason Stanley, Sandifer is dedicated to “disproving” a number of Far Right ideologies - from transphobia to libertarianism to The Singularity - in purely philosophical terms. The difference is, she’s having fun with it. I won’t pretend the title essay - a 140-page mammoth - didn’t lose me several times, and someone had to remind which of its many threads was the thesis. And some stretches are dense, academic writing punctuated with vulgarity and (actually quite clever) jokes, which doesn’t always average out to the playfully heady tone she’s going for. But, still, frequently brilliant and never less than interesting. There is something genuinely cathartic about a book that begins with the premise that we all fear but won’t let ourselves meaningfully consider - that we will lose the fight with the Right and climate change is going to kill us all - and talks about what we can do in that event. I felt I didn’t even have to agree with the premise to feel strangely empowered by it. Informed the White Fascism video’s comments on transphobia as the next frontier of bigotry since failing to prevent marriage equality.

On Bullshit, by Harry Frankfurt Was surprised to find this isn’t properly a book, just a printed essay. Highly relevant passage that helped form my description of 4chan in The Card Says Moops: “What tends to go on in a bull session is that the participants try out various thoughts and attitudes in order to see how it feels to hear themselves saying such things and in order to discover how others respond, without its being assumed that they are committed to what they say: it is understood by everyone in a bull session that the statements people make do not necessarily reveal what they really believe or how they really feel. The main point is to make possible a high level of candor and an experimental or adventuresome approach to the subjects under discussion. Therefore provision is made for enjoying a certain irresponsibility, so that people will be encouraged to convey what is on their minds without too much anxiety that they will be held to it. [paragraph break] Each of the contributors to a bull session relies, in other words, upon a general recognition that what he expresses or says is not to be understood as being what he means wholeheartedly or believes unequivocally to be true. The purpose of the conversation is not to communicate beliefs.”

The Reactionary Mind, by Corey Robin (livetweets) Another freakishly useful book, and the basis for Always a Bigger Fish and The Origins of Conservatism. Jumping into the history of conservative thought, going all the way back to Thomas Hobbes, to stress that conservatism is, and always has been, about preserving social hierarchies and defending the powerful. Robin dissects thinkers who heavily influenced conservatism, from Edmund Burke and Friedrich Nietzsche to Carl Menger and Ayn Rand, and finally concluding with Trump himself. There’s a lot of insight into how the conservative mind works, though precious little comment on what we can do about it, which somewhat robs the book of a conclusion. Still, the way it bounces off of Don’t Think of an Elephant and The Authoritarians really brings the Right into focus.

Fascism Today, by Shane Burley Yet another influence on the White Fascism video. Bit of a mixed bag. The opening gives a proper definition of fascism, which is extremely useful. Then the main stretch delves into the landscape of modern fascism, from Alt-Right to Alt-Lite to neofolk pagans to the Proud Boys and on and on. Sometimes feels overly comprehensive, but insights abound on the intersections of all these belief systems (Burley pointing out that the Alt-Right is, in essence, the gentrification of working-class white nationalists like neo-Nazi skinheads and the KKK was a real eye-opener). But the full title is Fascism Today: What it is and How to End it, and it feels lacking in the second part. Final stretch mostly lists a bunch of efforts to address fascism that already exist, how they’ve historically been effective, and suggestions for getting involved. Precious few new ideas there. And maybe the truth is that we already have all the tools we need to fight fascism and we simply need to employ them, and being told so is just narratively unsatisfying. Or maybe it’s a structural problem with the book, that it doesn’t reveal a core to fascism the way Altemeyer reveals a core to authoritarianism and Robin reveals a core to conservatism, so I don’t come away feeling like I get fascism well enough to fight it. But, also, Burley makes it clear that modern fascism is a rapidly evolving virus, and being told that old ways are still the best ways isn’t very satisfying. If antifascism isn’t evolving at least as rapidly, it doesn’t seem like we’re going to win.

(caveats: myriad. for one, Burley repeatedly quotes Angela Nagle’s Kill All Normies, which does not inspire confidence. he also talks about “doxxing fascists” as a viable strategy without going into the differences between “linking a name to a face at a public event” and “hacking someone’s email to publicly reveal their bank information,” where the former is the strategy that fights fascism and the latter is vigilantism that is practiced widely on the Right and only by the worst actors on the Left. finally, the one section where Burley discusses an area I had already thoroughly researched was GamerGate, and he got quite a few facts wrong, which makes me question how accurate all the parts I hadn’t researched were. I don’t want to drive anyone away from the book, because it was still quite useful, but I recommend reading it only in concert with a lot of other sources so you don’t get a skewed perspective.)

Healing from Hate, by Michael Kimmel (Michael Kimmel, it turns out, is a scumbag. This book’s main thesis is that we need to look at violent extremism through the lens of toxic masculinity, so Kimmel’s toxic history with women is massively disappointing. Book itself is, in many ways, good, but, you know, retweets are not endorsement.)

A 4-part examination of how men get into violent extremism through the lens of the organizations that help them get out: EXIT in Germany and Sweden, Life After Hate in the US, and The Quilliam Foundation in Europe and North America. Emphasizing that entry into white nationalism - and, to an extent, jihadism - is less ideological than social. Young men enter these movements out of a need for community, purpose, and a place to put their anger. They feel displaced and mistreated by society - and often, very tangibly, are - and extremism offers a way to prove their manhood. Feelings of emasculation is a major theme. The actual politics of extremism are adopted gradually. They are, in a sense, the price of admission for the community and the sense of purpose. The most successful exit strategies are those that address these feelings of loneliness and emasculation and build social networks outside the movement, and not ones that address ideology first - the ideology tends to wither with the change in environment. The book itself can be a bit repetitive, but these observations are very enlightening.

(caveats: the final chapter on militant Islam is deeply flawed. Kimmel clearly didn’t get as much access to Qulliam as he had to EXIT and Life After Hate, so his data is based far less on direct interviews with counselors and former extremists and much more on other people’s research. despite the chapter stressing that a major source of Muslim alienation is racism, Kimmel focuses uncomfortably much on white voices - the majority of researchers he quotes are white Westerners, and the few interviews he manages are mostly with white converts to Islam rather than Arabs or South Asians. all in all, the research feels thinner, and his claims about militant Islam seem much more conjectural when they don’t read as echos of other people’s opinions.)

Terror, Love and Brainwashing, by Alexandra Stein A look at totalitarian governments and cults through the lens of attachment theory. While not explicitly about the Far Right, it’s interesting to see the overlap between this and Healing from Hate. Stein stresses that the control dynamics she discusses are not exclusive to cults, and are, in fact, the same ones as in abusive relationships; cults are just the most extreme version. So you can see many similar dynamics in Far Right organizations, like the Aryan Nations or the Proud Boys. It’s made me curious how many of these dynamics are in play in the distributed, less controlled environment of online extremism, and makes me want to look further into the subject before drawing conclusions.

(caveats: book is, as with How Propaganda Works, sometimes a slog and rather repetitive. I clocked a 4-page stretch in chapter 8 where Stein did not say a single thing that hadn’t been said multiple times in previous chapters. also, when talking about people coerced into highly-controlled lifestyles, she offhandedly includes “prostitutes” among them? it’s that liberal conflation of sex work and trafficking which is really not cool. this isn’t a major point, just something to notice while you read it.)

Alt-America, by David Neiwert (livetweets) A look at the actual formation of the Alt-Right, and the history that led up to it: the Militia and Patriot movements of the 90′s, the Tea Party, the rise of Alex Jones and Glenn Beck, and so on. Having been steeped in the rhetoric and tactics of the Far Right for so long, someone doing the work of sitting down and putting it all in chronological order is immensely helpful. Generally clear and well-written, too, and would be an easy read if not for how goddamn depressing the content is. Has an unfortunate final 7 pages, where Neiwert starts recommending actual policy. Falls into the usual “have empathetic conversations with genuine conservatives to turn them against the fascist wing taking over their party,” not recognizing the ways in which conservatism is continuous with fascism, nor the ways that trying to appeal to moderate conservatives alienates the people whose rights they deny. Means an extremely valuable book leaves a bad taste in the final stretch, but everything up to then is aces.

[welllpthisishappening]

Do you think that Emma and Henry made Killian watch just like all of the different Peter Pan movies just to make fun of Hook

Hello, anon! I’m sorry this has been sitting in my inbox for several millennia, but work has been nuts and this answer required some words. So here we have the following: some serious Captain Cobra, a slightly snarky adult Henry, GRANDFATHER KILLIAN, my refusal to acknowledge the timeline of season seven and fluff. Just like. Fluff. It’s only 2K! That’s like a drabble!

“Killian!”

He snaps his head up, glancing at his, now, wide-open front door and Henry is out of breath. It takes Killian, approximately, half a second for several different and increasingly horrible ideas to populate every single corner of his mind. They range from rather drastic magic to slightly violent and possibly drunk dwarves, to another realm they’d never heard of before and Henry’s knuckles have gone white where they’re wrapped around the side of the door frame.

“Henry, what—“

Killian doesn’t get the rest of the sentence out. It is, he assumes, because there’s a kid slamming into his leg and tugging on the front of his shirt and Lucy does not sound as if there is a catastrophe looming over them.

If anything, she sounds somewhere between thrilled and overexcited, a strange mix that’s also a bit like a memory because the grown man still trying to catch his breath a few feet away was always like that when he found out something new.

“Papa, papa, papa,” Lucy chants, coming dangerously close to jumping on his right foot. He’s not wearing socks.

“What? What? What?”

“We’ve found a new one.”

Killian’s brows furrow, confusion rattling down his spine until it evolves into something much closer to understanding and he really did believe this tradition was over when Henry left home. That, however, does not appear to be the case and now he’s brought in fresh recruits.

With emotion-based titles.

And it’s only a little strange — mostly because Hope hasn’t entirely gotten around to the actual challenge of talking quite yet, has seemed fairly content to gurgle and mumble and point out her wants and needs with slightly chubby fits — but the timelines don’t really matter and Lucy had decided on it and he’s nothing if entirely incapable of saying no to her.

As Emma is very quick to point out.

She usually smiles when she says it though, so. Killian assumes it’s a wash.

Lucy’s foot lands on his.

“It’s really good,” she adds, hardly able to get one word out before she’s moving on to the next one. “The best one. Dad said!”

“Did he just?”

Henry makes a noise, a wave of his hand that might be an agreement or just giving in to the exhaustion that’s obvious in every inch of him.

“If you stand up, it’s going to be easier to breathe again,” Killian mutters, a hand falling on Lucy’s shoulders and Henry’s eyes narrow.

“I’m fine.”

“Oh aye, aye, sure you are. Would you like to tell that to your lungs?”

Henry scowls. “Please, you don’t know anything about lungs.”

“Are we under attack or no?”

“Absolutely not.”

Killian hums, fingers curling around Lucy’s wrist now because she’s genuinely threatening to rip the bottom of his shirt. “You know,” he says, dropping down so he’s eye level with her and he isn’t all that surprised to find that her eyes have gone wide, “you are incredibly similar to your father.”

Lucy’s eyes threaten to fall out of her head. That’s got a bad connotation, but Killian’s mind is, admittedly, still preoccupied with threats and curses and Emma’s at the office, Hope asleep, hopefully, upstairs.

If Henry woke up Hope, Killian may be the one doing the cursing. Emma will absolutely help.

They’ve reached some kind of teething stage that’s strangely similar to torture and he’s having a hard time staying upright at this point.

“Yeah?” Lucy breathes, any bit of negative thought disappearing from Killian’s mind as soon as the question is out of her mouth. His eyes flit towards Henry, an arm wrapped around his middle and breathing starting to return to normal.

Killian nods, tapping the bridge of her nose with her finger. She scrunches it. And that is impossibly, completely, all, Emma. Maybe he doesn’t have to sleep right now. “Oh, aye,” he nods, “far too many limbs for you to control, little Miss Mills.”

She giggles, smile moving across her face so quickly Killian’s starting to wonder if that’s, simply, her general state of being. It’s a much nicer thought than the other ones. And even better when she flings her arms around her shoulders, making it a little difficult to stay balanced, but that may be the few hours of sleep he’s been averaging and Henry, finally, closes the door behind him.

“I feel like I should resent that,” he murmurs. There’s something in his hand. It is decidedly rectangle-shaped.

Killian arches an eyebrow. “I never said it was a bad thing. I am simply pointing out that the lass appears to have inherited several of your mannerisms. That’s all.”

“Yuh huh.”

“You almost sound like you don’t believe me.”

“I can’t imagine why that is,” Henry laughs, shaking his head like that will help the overall state of his lungs and Killian can hardly open his mouth before the kid who isn’t really a kid anymore swings his legs over the back of the couch, falling onto the cushions with a rather loud thump.

“If you wake up your sister, I’m going to tell your mother on you.”

Henry props himself up on his elbows, an incredulous look coloring his features. “Which one?”

“Either or.”

“That’s cheating.”

“That’s part and parcel of being a pirate.”

“Ah, you’ve circled us back around here, actually.”

Killian hums, a quick nod that’s partially agreement and partially an attempt to get Lucy to loosen her hold on his neck. “Aye, I figured.”

“Look at you, all perceptive. Kind of, I mean. Did you really think we were under some kind of attack?”

“I’m going to blame the lack of sleep. And whoever taught you that you can just open doors.”

“Probably you, honestly.”

He can feel the color rise in his cheeks, that same emotion that had rattled around his spine quickly evolving into something far more emotional and one side of Henry’s mouth tugs up. “Ah, that may be true,” Killian concedes. “How long has it been since this has happened?”

“I honestly don’t know. Like—years? The curses make it difficult to keep track of all of it. But, uh, well—“ Henry may be blushing now too, another bit of Emma in a moment that she will be loathe to have missed. “We were in the library and Luce found it.”

He brandishes the rectangle, which is, in fact, a DVD, the smile going full-blown as Lucy starts talking a mile a minute again.

“It’s another version of you, Papa,” she cries, back to the tugging and the fabric yanking and there’s a tear in the bottom of his shirt that was not there a few minutes before. “There’s no talking in this one, though!”

Killian blinks. “That’s not how those work though.”

“Oh modern man of the world, huh?” Henry chuckles, but the sound disappears as soon as Killian widens his eyes. “Ok, c’mon, don’t ground me or anything.” 

He grits his teeth when the silence stretches, but Killian had also gotten very good at that face when Henry was a lad, a look practiced on crew and pirates and several hundred slightly terrified individuals, all fearful of what Captain Hook could and would do to them. It evolved over the years, not quite as hard as it had been in the Enchanted Forest with threats of villainy lapping at the corners of his consciousness, but it still brokered no argument, and Henry, even a questionable number of years after his first insistence that we have to watch Peter Pan, honestly, for like science or something, is still susceptible to it.

“Pirate,” Henry mumbles again, and that time it’s Killian’s turn to laugh.

“There’s no talking in this one?”

“Nah. I didn’t even know there were more versions of Peter Pan for us to watch. Seriously. But like I said, Luce found this one and I looked it up and it’s like—from 1924 and JM Barrie was seriously involved in it and—“

“—That doesn’t make me feel much better,” Killian cuts in, “the ponce clearly didn’t know what he was talking about.”

“So you’ve got no interest in it, whatsoever?”

Killian sighs — Lucy already muttering pleas to watch the move and please, Papa, please wraps its way around him and hangs in the air, as if it’s taunting him and maybe that was the threat after all. But he’d always given in anyway, even when Henry was young, mostly because it made him laugh and it made Emma smile, curled into his side on the couch that’s since been replaced several times.

He’s glad there’s another version.

He’s sure there are sword fighting inconsistencies he can point out.

“Put it on,” Killian says, and Henry grins, already halfway to the TV.

And he doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep until his eyes snap open, a set of impossibly familiar legs standing in front of him. He doesn’t have to look up to know Emma’s smiling, the steady rise and fall of Lucy’s body against Killian’s side.

She’s got her head propped on his thigh, her legs stretched out across the entire couch, with her feet on Henry’s lap. Henry is asleep too. The TV has turned off on its own.

“Did I walk into a time warp?” Emma asks lightly, Hope in her arms and already toying with the chain around her neck.

Killian blinks away the last few vestiges of sleep, tongue darting between his lips. He’s fairly certain he doesn’t imagine the way Emma’s eyes fall towards that, which, well, they’ll have to discuss that later, maybe after she’s slept as well, but for now he’s trying to gain his bearings and he doesn’t remember seeing much of the movie.

All he knows is that Captain Hook did, in fact, have very poor form when holding a sword.

Henry is snoring.

“How long have you been home?” Killian murmurs, careful not to move too much and wake up Lucy.

“Not long. I walked in, found this little party happening and a still sleeping baby upstairs and then Hope and I finished your movie.”

“Did you?” Emma nods, dropping onto the arm of the couch so her fingers can find the hair at the back of Killian’s head. “You’re going to make me fall asleep again, love.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not if you keep doing that.”

“Charmer.”

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, twisting his head to kiss the inside of her wrist and it’s…nice. It’s more than that, but he’s still half asleep and a giant pushover for any member of his family and that’s a fairly fantastic word.

For Captain Hook.

And any version that appears on his TV screen.

“You comfortable, babe?”

“The lass does have a tendency to dig her chin into my thigh, but other than that—“ He title his head up, Emma still smiling and Killian would not be surprised if the green in her gaze is, in fact, getting stronger. Like it’s powered on love or something. Clap if you believe in Emma Swan’s magic.

That’s the wrong version of Peter Pan.

“Good,” Emma whispers. “Although I am a little annoyed I didn’t get invited to the watch party.”

“A grave mistake, Swan.”

“Honestly. So, uh, pizza or Chinese while I make you watch the cartoon later as payback?”

“Chinese,” Henry mumbles, cracking open one eye when Emma’s gasp seems to fly out of her. His lips quirk up. That may be a Killian thing. The thought makes his heart leap into his throat. “You guys talk really loud and I learned not to interrupt the flirting when I was a kid, so…”

Emma groans, but Killian’s kind of impressed and—“Chinese does sound good, love.”

She narrows her eyes. And kisses the top of his head, moving Hope into his arms, an exchange he takes gratefully. Even when Lucy’s chin presses into his leg. Hard.

“How many egg rolls do you want?”

She orders far too many, and they don’t all fit on the couch perfectly, but there’s a comfort to it that almost makes the state of Captain Hook’s mustache in the cartoon bearable and Killian points out the inaccuracies in Neverland’s geography, a rapt audience with wide eyes and Emma curled against his side.

[dumbchickwrites]

Brought Me Back.

Pairings: Frank Castle x Reader.

Warnings: a lil angst, smut!

A/N: I don’t remember if at this point of the series Amy is already Amy, so my apologies if I messed up.

***

“Hey, what you doin’?” you asked Amy who was rummaging Dinah’s kitchen cupboards.

“I swear to God, that woman is some kind of bird. What kind of person only eats grains and nuts?”

You laughed at her exasperated expression. Dinah had been kind enough to let you stay here with Frank and Amy. The poor woman was still tormented by Billy, after all this time and you really pitied her. She deserved some kind of closure. She deserved better. Looking at Amy, you thought that she deserved better too, no matter what kind of life she had before entering yours, or what she’d done. She was just a kid.

Glancing at the clock on the oven, you let out a big sigh. Frank had been out for quite some time now and you started worrying a bit more. He’d went out to get info out of some Russian guys and you prayed that he was okay.

“Thinking about your boyfriend?” Amy teased, making you smile. “I really can’t find anything. How about some pizza?”

As if on cue, the heavy wooden front door opened, revealing Frank covered in blood. He was grumpy, as usual, but you could see that he wasn’t majorly injured.

“Wow, great timing,” you said. “We were just about to order some pizza.”

He raised both of his thumbs at you and Amy before disappearing in the bedroom. Amy sighed, opening her brand new laptop to order the pizza, you assumed.

“How did this begin anyway? I mean, you two are pretty cute with you as the sunshine next to Frank’s big dark cloud but I just can’t wrap my head around how you met.”

“Oh, you want me to tell you a story? Is that what this is?” you smirked.

“Yep! I wanna hear everything about the time mommy and daddy first met.”

“Well, how do I start… So I was a hitwoman, right. I was pretty good. I used to get paid y’know, depending on the target, or I’d work ‘freelance’ kind of like Frank. I had very good deals with the Italian mafia, by the way. So one day I get this deal, right. Half of the money upfront, the other half after the job was done. It’s this weird sketchy ass motherfucker, a child molester, fucking disgusting. At first I wouldn’t accept the money ‘cause I thought, it’s for a good cause, but I got bills to pay.

“So I get in the building. It was hella creepy, it gave me the chills, kids clothes hanging on the walls, some of them torn, even bloody. I remember this little pink fairy costume… it absolutely broke my heart. Anyway, I’m distracted by the clothes then I hear a silenced gunshot. The bullet lands in the wall, right next to my head. I turn around and there’s the fucking Punisher. We fight for like a minute before realizing that we’re here for the same thing. So we finish the guy together and leave. He sees blood on my clothes — a GSW from a previous job and he offers to take me back to his place where his friend can stitch me up properly.”

“So what, you had sex?”

“No!” you snorted. “We talked all night, and realized we were kind of the same; two hollow souls killing to make peace with themselves,” you took a sip of your cooling tea. “You see kid, I was in a very bad place. I was lost, I was desperate, y’know I didn’t know if I had a purpose in this world. I’d already tried to end my life a few times, put a bullet in my mouth,” you tried to swallow the big lump forming in your throat. “But Frank, he—he brought me back from that dark place, you know, just by being by my side. I now have someone I care about, something to live for. I wish I could say that he felt the same though. His family still haunts him, and I’m not saying that I want him to forget them and live for me like I live for him, but I wish I was enough.”

Amy observed uncomfortably as you were struggling to regain your composure. It wasn’t often that you had the occasion to talk about your feelings and pour your heart out to someone, but you were glad to finally let everything out. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

“Sorry kid, this just got a little heavy for you, huh?” you let out a humourless chuckle.

“No, it’s fine. Really. So… you love him?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Yeah I guess I do. But I don’t think he knows that. I’m afraid he’d go running for the hills if I told him and I really don’t want to lose him.”

“Well I can’t tell you what’s in Frank’s head but I can give you a hug, maybe?” she gave you a crooked smile, her arms opened.

“Yeah, I’d like that, come here.”

The blonde girl went around the counter to meet you and wrapped her arms around you.

“Thanks kid. You’re a good listener.”

“Yeah, I know, I get that a lot.”

*

Amy stretched her limbs out as the credits rolled up on the TV screen. It had been the coziest evening you had in a while, watching a stupid movie with pizza and two people you deeply cared about.

“I’m going to bed,” Amy stated. “Good night.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” you said after her, since you were both sleeping on the bed.

You sat up from your comfortable spot in Frank’s arms and started cleaning up the coffee table.

“You barely ate,” Frank pointed out, following you in the kitchen, cans of Coke in hand. “Is something wrong?”

“Nah, it’s just that whole quiet life thing that got me putting on a few stupid unwanted pounds so I’m just, you know, trying to change that,” you answered, still tidying up Dinah’s place.

Frank froze for a moment, as if he had trouble processing the information before chuckling while shaking his head.

“That’s bullshit. I mean, to me at least. I like it,” he slapped and squeezed your ass, making it jiggle in your black sweatpants. “I really, really like it.”

You rolled your eyes at his behavior. “Very mature, Castle.”

“Hey, come here a sec,” he sat on a stool. “Look, I, uh, I heard you talking to the kid earlier.”

Your eyes widened as your heart sank in your chest. He heard you. He knew you were in love with him. He was going to leave and never come back and you’d be all alone again. Could you survive another loss? What will you do? Will you go back to wandering around the city as an assassin who claimed to be a vigilante? Your heart rate became quicker. You were scared. You’d just lost everything. You closed your eyes briefly, cursing yourself for even talking to Amy in the first place.

“And, uh, you make me better too. Before, when I was hurt, I could just let myself die, you know. I was waiting for death every morning, every second of the day I hoped it would find me. But now, knowing that I have you waiting for me somewhere, it just—it just gives me strength, you know. You’re more than enough,” he raised a calloused hand to your face, cupping your cheek, and you leaned in it. “You can never lose me. I love you.”

He moved his hand to the back of your neck to pull you in a passionate kiss. At that moment, you were certain your heart was going to explode in your chest. You thought you’d already met the love of your life once, but that wasn’t the case. Frank loved you back. That was all that mattered at the moment. Well maybe a wild Billy in the streets and an even wilder preacher looking guy trying to kill you, but all of this was moved to the back of your mind the second Frank’s lips met yours.

“I wanna hear you say it, (Y/N),” he whispered against your lips. “Say it.”

“I love you, Frank. I love you.”

With a grunt, he picked you up, hands massaging your ass, to lead you to the couch, where he laid you down, his lips still devouring yours. His fingers found the base of your black tank top, reading to remove it.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you whispered. “What about the kid? She’ll hear us! And this is Dinah’s couch!”

His eyes locked on yours, he slid a hand in your underwear feeling your already soaking core, as he circled one of your hard nipples over your top with his other thumb.

“Yeah, I think you’re thinking just like me. Fuck this and fuck that,” two of his fingers entered your tight pussy. “What do you say, doll?”

“Fuck me. Please.”

“Nah, sweetheart,” he took of his shirt in one swift move and unbuckled his belt. “I’m making love to you tonight.”

He undressed you as fast as he could, only leaving you with your panties. He took his time to remove them, leaving kisses all over your legs down to your inner thighs where he bit and kissed every inch of your skin. He hooked two fingers on the sides of your black number, and slowly, very slowly, slid it up your legs to watch as your juices separated between your skin and the fabric of your underwear. Satisfied, Frank’s fingers found their way inside of you again, making you a whimpering mess as he moved them in and out of you, while simultaneously playing with your nipples.

He brought you to the edge of your release only to deprive you of it. He looked content of it, the asshole. You watched as he rose to his feet to remove his pants and his underwear, licking your lips at the sight of his hard cock. You spread your legs, as ready as you’ll ever be. Goosebumps covered your body when you felt the tip of his cock on your throbbing clit.

“Tell me again,” he demanded, his thumb caressing your lower lip.

“I love you, Frank. I love you more than anything,” you said, cupping his face with your hands. He closed his eyes and kissed your palms, leaning into your comforting touch. As he bent down to kiss you, you became more intimate than ever, physically and emotionally. You had hope that everything would be okay as long as he held you in his arms, as long as his skin would be agaisnt yours nothing could get to you, nothing could break you.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck as his thrusts deepened, his grunts sounding like the greatest melody you’d ever heard. The skin of his back was soft under your hands, his own delicately raising your legs to rest them on his shoulders, giving him a better angle to pound into you. The spark that lit up between you had turned into a fire that you could now see in his eyes as he looked at you; helpless, completely giving yourself to him. He looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing on earth when you were a reflection of him.

He switched positions to have you on top. You could now run your hands all over each other’s upper body. You touched and kissed every scar you could reach, letting him know that you loved them as much as you loved him because they’re a part of him and his story. He held your hips to slow down the pace, making the strokes slower and deeper.

Then you felt it. Every muscle in your body tensed up as you finally found your release. Frank kissed you to muffle your moans, still pounding into you to make your orgasm last as long as possible. He came soon after you under the contractions of your pussy, staying inside of you even after it was over.

“Everything’s gonna be okay,” he whispered against your lips as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“How do you know?” you asked, eyes welling up with emotion.

“‘Cause I got you.”

*

A FEW WEEKS LATER.

The weather seemed to be linked to Frank’s mood. Hell, to his life even. Rain was pouring down on him as he started at the big stone in front of him. His face was blank. He didn’t even know if he should be sad or angry. He had no one else to blame but himself. He’d done that to you.

“Frank, come on,” a soft voice said.

Karen squeezed Frank’s arm to bring him back to reality but it was like he wasn’t there. Curtis and Dinah exchanged a worried look. Frank was broken for good now. There was no fixing him. Not anymore.

“I told you,” Frank finally spoke, eyes still glued to your tombstone. “There’s no warm, cozy ending for me.”