#truly like we are hanging on by a fucking thread lol

[lucytara]

it would be nice if some of you could remember that the people who overwhelmingly voted for trump are probably not sitting here on tumblr.com. the people sitting here on tumblr.com are the people who are desperately looking for ways to keep going and how to move forward and find community in a truly dark fucking time. i've seen so many bizarre fucking "gotcha!" posts from people who do not live in this country as if trump's primary voting base was tumblr users. most of us here probably tried very very hard to do the right thing and help each other and look out for each other. but sure, if it helps you feel superior, tumblr user from somewhere in europe, that's the only thing that matters i guess? a lack of compassion and empathy is one of the reasons we are in the situation we're in but yes let's double down on that

[sicksadgames]

As the Sun Forever Sets - Terror in the time of the Telegraph

It’s nuts I’ve been working on this game for over 4 years at this point. As the Sun Forever Sets is for sure my biggest and most capital G Game. It even has a publisher and everything. It’s also my first game! Wow! It's been tough, though. We'll get into it!

Britain, 1899

As the Sun Forever Sets is a survival horror sandbox based on the War of the Worlds, utilises the Forged in the Dark ruleset, and is about ordinary people surviving a Martian invasion of Victorian era Britain. We play to find out how they rise to meet the storm of destruction, the ways in which it shapes them, and if they survive to see a new world emerge, or die amidst the rubble of the old.

In the last years of Queen Victoria’s reign, the British Empire stretches across a quarter of the globe, and under the guise of genteel progress and civilisation, it commits theft and murder on a global scale. Britain itself is on the verge of the modern era, the Second Industrial Revolution pushing people into the cities to drive the factories and forges owned by the greedy industrialist class. But beyond the common causes of humanity and unbeknownst to the men who impose their rule over it, vast wheels have begun their inexorable turning. Across 40 million miles of void, the Martian invasion hurtles Earthward. Screaming across the stars, instruments of annihilation unlike anything believed possible lie ready for assembly, alongside the Martians themselves. They are truly inscrutable beings, but their intent is as clear as it is terrible – they will suck the literal and figurative blood from the Earth, and nothing less than the complete and utter subjugation of humanity will be enough.

If this sounds cool to you... well, you gotta wait, it’s not done yet. Sorry! But you can come and hang out in the Sick Sad Games discord, where I post excerpts and occasionally organise playtests.

The Hard Times of (Old) England

Be warned, this is a long one - over 4000 words (if you don't have a Tumblr account, you won't get to the end before it starts bugging you to register one, so go read this on Medium instead.) It turns out when you work on a game for a long time, you have a lot to say about it. Strap in, grab your gin and laudanum, and let’s destroy an evil empire just by existing.

Thanks to the wonderful @hendrik-ten-napel for taking a look over my disorganised thoughts.

(Potential) Spoilers for: The Bear, The War of the Worlds, The Last of Us, Children of Men, Threads, When the Wind Blows, Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs, The Thing.

Roleplay in the Pre-Post-Apocalypse

TTRPGs love a good post apocalypse. It's understandable - gas up and ride glorious on the legally distinct fury road, run a commune of like minded weirdos in the ashes of the old world, go digging through retro-futuristic ruins to find retro-futuristic treasures. Who wouldn't want to do any of these? But As the Sun Forever Sets is about an apocalypse as it begins, not after it’s over. 

There's a lot of crossover, of course. There’s a focus on similar things - disaster and spectacle, relationships and trust, scavenging and survival. But the bonus of the world not yet being over, is that we get to roleplay out dealing with that terrible, inexorable reality.

HG Wells wrote a book about blowing up all the places he used to live, and it's a banger. I was surprised to find there wasn't a TTRPG based on the War of the Worlds, being the tantalisingly public domain ur-alien invasion story it is. As the Sun Forever Sets is very explicitly an adaption of it, to the point that before I came up with the name it almost got released as The War of the Worlds: The Roleplaying Game (lol). I'm glad I didn't, doing my own thing has meant both me and the people playing are way more free to fuck around without the expectation that it must adhere to a canon.

The book is good, strikingly modern feeling in parts, and obviously massively influential - so much science fiction can be traced back to our nameless Narrators tormentuous trek across the south of England. But Wells’ prose is typical Victorian - overly wordy and florid (any book that contains the word “ejaculating” meaning “to shout” might be difficult for readers who aren’t used to the style), so when it comes to recommending an actual adaptation, there’s only one true king. Whenever I bring up Jeff Wayne’s The War of the Worlds, the usual reaction from anyone outside of the UK is to say "... they made a what?"

My mom was very keen to get me into musicals, but nothing really stuck until she tried this, the secret best War of the Worlds adaption (sorry Steven Spielberg, but you were doomed from the start.) It's the bombast and drama you'd expect from a disaster film, the horror and pathos of Wells’ classic, all expressed through vivid narration and sick nasty prog rock - wailing guitar and crunchy 70's synths operating at full effect. It's not completely faithful to the book, it doesn't matter. It’s the best.

Ah yes, the film bro's favourite mid 2000's film. Did you see that sick oner? That’s six minutes without a cut, that means the film’s good right? Children of Men is a slow burn apocalypse, dressed up like a world that’s already ended. Plenty has been written about all the little ways the film is prescient about the state of the UK - the slow belly-crawl into facism and nationalist fervour, the particularly British decay and class divide exacerbated by the desperate times, even the willful ignorance and the explicit sense that everyone’s just given up, it’s all here.

All that thematic stuff seems like it’d be really relevant to As the Sun Forever Sets, right?

Unfortunately, we are in fact here to talk about the long takes. The unbroken moment-to-moment action scenes evoke The War of the Worlds to a tee. Theo navigates danger with the same fraught tactical tension as War of the World's Narrator - dashing between doorways, groping for an axe handle in the darkness, desperately trying to start a car as assailants sprint towards him. What’s the best way out of this situation? How do I get from here to where I need to be? He lives his life in rolling, fleeting 5 second intervals, because he’s forgotten what it means to think in the long term - about the future, and what it might hold.

I was always fascinated and terrified by the idea of nuclear war. I guess it comes from watching a lot of 90’s disaster movies, but those are often ultimately fun romps where the day gets saved at the end, or at least the main characters find themselves alive and well at the end of the saga of destruction. Instead, As the Sun Forever Sets asks you to reflect on the horror and sadness present at the end of the world. Things are going to change forever, and change is always hard.

There’s not many clips of Threads and When the Wind Blows online, so it’s a little hard to demonstrate their particular nuclear inflected pitch black darkness. They’re grim - Grave of the Fireflies grim - differing in focus but united in their horrible impact.

When the Wind Blows is a story of an elderly couple living in rural England when the bombs drop, based on the comic by Raymond Briggs. Yes, The Snowman’s Raymond Briggs made a film about 2 lovely grandparents dying of acute radiation poisoning. Jim and Hilda are completely unprepared for what’s to come, their only reference is the Blitz - terrible in its own way, but not a patch on the scale of death they’re about to experience.

They survive the blast and wait for the good old British Government to arrive to save them, as it did in the 40’s. Slowly liquifying in the nuclear fallout, they hold onto each other and keep their spirits up, eventually making the decision to clamber into the paper sacks they mistakenly believed might protect them from the blast. Clutching their medical cards and birth certificates (for the ambulance, sure to be along any minute now), Jim mumbles painfully through a final prayer that morphs into a misremembered Charge of the Light Brigade, and they slip into a perpetual slumber together.

The most tragic part is Jim and Hilda’s unshakeable faith that their government is there for them - ready to catch them when they fall - borne out of Britain’s post WW2 renewal but absent in the 1980’s of the film’s plot, and the Britain of today. It’s a masterful film, shockingly sad, but the shock is the point.

Instead of aiming for your heart, Threads aims for the head. It’s a drama that aims to be as accurate as possible to government research into what a nuclear war might look like, plainly and forensically setting it out without any thought of softening these hard facts for its audience. Rather than focusing on a personal story, Threads flits around several groups of characters - minor government figures and ordinary families. Like Jim and Hilda, they too are woefully unprepared for the end of the world, and those in charge know there’s no way the UK could ever be ready for such a thing.

As mundane life is quietly intruded upon by news updates detailing far off geopolitics and the subsequent escalation that leads to war, the tension rises subtly then suddenly, like a spacecraft on the launchpad. People we’ve seen pottering about their normal lives are maimed and evaporated in the subsequent shocking nuclear exchange, whilst stark statistics flash on the screen - the hundreds of thousands instantly killed, how long the millions more fatally irradiated have left to live, the woefully inadequate tonnage of stockpiled food to feed those who survive. Each zero hits like a gutpunch.

And when you think the film must nearly be over, it keeps going. 1 week later. 1 year later. Threads grinds to an excruciating halt 13 years after the bombs fall, after year upon year of failed harvests from a destroyed earth barely able to support a population level equivalent to medieval Britain. At one point, mute children watch a warped and scratchy VHS of classic kids educational programme Words and Pictures on a TV powered by a steam generator.

The friendly presenter spells out the word “cat” through the thick veil of static, accompanied by a picture of one - an animal the children watching will likely never see. As they watch with blank, emotionless faces, the image of the cat fades to one of its skeletal form. “A cat’s skeleton” the presenter enthusiastically intones. The unrelenting bleakness might feel like a punishment, but Threads doesn’t mean it to be. This is just what would happen, after all.

Love in the time of the Heat-ray

In fact, someone in a Reddit thread said As the Sun Forever Sets “wasn’t just endless misery” and I’m glad that comes across. I wanted there to be moments of tenderness, quiet joy, anger, frustration, love and loss to punctuate the action and the horror.

People are messy and complicated even at the best of times. Under pressure, this is amplified a thousandfold - a little crush becomes a whirlwind romance, small disagreements become full blown fights, and not fully understanding someone might transform them into an enemy in your head.

The little town Bill conspires to be left alone in ends up comparatively untouched by the horrors going on elsewhere, as untouched as anywhere can be in The Last of Us. He hated the world anyways - so he isolates himself as he prepares for it to end, and it makes sense that his life only really begins as the show does. When Frank arrives, Bill is forced not to just engage with the broader world outside of his little enclave, but in the act of truly living in it.

There’s no prepper’s guide to romance. A human heart can’t be field stripped for maintenance. By choosing to exist as a vulnerable, emotional being, Bill opens himself up to a different kind of apocalypse. Frank becomes the flowering vines that slowly crack the flat concrete wall of a world that Bill created, and when those vines die, the wall can only crumble. It’s so fraught and lovely, delicately yet absolutely gut wrenching. At least their apocalypse was one they decided to have together.

“I’m old. I’m satisfied. And you… were my purpose.” - "Long Long Time”, The Last of Us

While several of my TTRPG writing friends were gushing about how great The Bear is, Em Acosta, author of the wonderfully inspirational Exile pointed out something super interesting - a lot of the show is about how you deal with people you’ve found yourself stuck with. No matter how much they piss you off, or whatever they do wrong, there’s something that means you can’t ever let them truly exit your life. They’re there, like it or not, until the bitter end.

Turns out this is very similar to how As the Sun Forever Sets handles Player Character relationships. In both it and The Bear, nothing’s ever truly resolved between characters - every relationship is like a cooking pot perpetually simmering. You might’ve apologised, made a truce, or just ignored your issues for so long that they seem to disappear, but no matter what, you’ve got to keep your eye on that pot.

Because suddenly a crisis will hit, and someone says something, or a diceroll comes up bad and all of a sudden the pot boils over and things are once again fucked. You storm out, start screaming, throw a fork. Even in the worst case scenario where a Character leaves because they’re absolutely sick of the rest of the group, they might show up at the end of the game for one last scene. Who knows how you’ll all feel at the end - nothing is ever truly fixed, and only the dead are truly broken. 

“I quit, chef, is what’s going on. You are an excellent chef. You are also a piece of shit. This isn’t on me. Goodbye." - “The Review”, The Bear

I’ve talked about The Thing a little before, John Carpenters sweaty, paranoid antarctic masterpiece. Along with the incredible effects and the (mostly) restrained use of action and bombast, the thing that makes... The Thing work is that the staff of the stricken research base lack any and all emotional intelligence.

It’s sort of the ultimate reverse Dudes Rock movie. Nobody knows anything about each other, so when their bodies and minds are colonised by the titular chameleon from outer space, they’re just another stranger to the rest of the crew. I’d ask you a question only you would know the answer to, but uh.. I don’t know anything about you. Whoops!

Over the course of the film, the whole operation falls apart as they try their best to work together to deal with the alien interloper, but their complete lack of ability to trust or relate to each other - present even before the crisis they find themselves in - is their ultimate downfall.

That final excellent shot of MacReady and Childs sat in the snow at the end of the film as their compound burns around them is the subject of a lot of unnecessary theorycrafting youtube videos, which kind of misses the point. Each suspects the other, but ultimately it doesn’t matter if one of them’s a Thing. One stranger is the same as another. Why bother getting to know each other now?

“Well...What do we do?” “Why don't we just... wait here for a little while? See what happens.” - Childs and Macready, The Thing

Science Fiction Revenge Fantasy

I’m not a historian, but the parallels between 1899 and now are pretty plain to see. Increasing class disparity, a lack of political will to help those in need, rampant cronyism and profiteering. As long as you’re in the place for it, roleplaying in a fictionalised version of the past to air out the issues of the present can be super fun and cathartic. You’re not expected to get a degree in British history to make it work, either.

The title is a play on the phrase “The Sun Never Set on the British Empire”, and it’s plainly stated in the book that Britains Empire acted as a mechanism of genocidal oppression, and that the Martians are here to end it - intentionally or not. It’s appealing as a premise on the face of it, but it goes a little deeper. Memories of Empire echo across time in Britain like the ringing of a malevolent bell, a cause celebre for braying Tories and fascistic right wing cunts (two very close circles in the venn diagram.)

We used to be a great country before this woke nonsense. Things were better back in the old days. The DEI contingent is trying to destroy our noble past. Yada yada yada, fuck offff. I’m sure someone somewhere will accuse me of “wokewashing” the past for including explicitly trans and queer characters as part of the book, along with the historical facts around how we fit into the oppressive Victorian conception of sex and gender. Unfortunately for them, we’ve always been here.

To be a little pretentious about it, every game of As the Sun Forever Sets reaches back into the past and cuts the myth of a glorious and benevolent Empire, and the good old days enjoyed within it off at the neck, purely in the act of beginning one. That sparks a little joy for me. Destroying a racists dream is fun, even if it’s only in the abstract.

A horror game about the most literalist Victorian industrialist imaginable hearing the phrase “Eat the rich” and getting right on that. I’ve not played Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs despite fond (??) memories of playing The Dark Descent in a room full of jumpy friends, and seeing Dear Esther played live on stage, with a live orchestra and narrator - an exquisite way to experience that game.

The mechanical chops of Frictional Games mixed with the narrative verve of The Chinese Room, how could this game be anything less than incredible?

After The Dark Descent I fell off’ve the “scary guy chases you around” genre of game until Alien: Isolation revitalised it, and the reviews of A Machine for Pigs were mixed - kind of boring, middling gameplay, too dark - so I never went back. I was planning on writing a little about its vibe - dark, gothic Victoriana that rhymes nicely with As the Sun Forever Sets - but after a bit of research, Mandus’ quest for his missing sons strikes an unexpectedly resonant and terrible chord.

The writing and voice acting is phenomenal, Mandus’ split consciousness - the self you play and the other half of him that’s seen the horrors of the forthcoming 20th Century and is compelled to act, imbued into the myopic machine he built - is extremely compelling. He feels compassion for the poor and wants to save them, but they fill him with fear and disgust. He knows the industrialist class is killing the world, but feels a deep shame in the fact that he counts himself amongst them. So his machine grinds the rich into meat for the poor, who it distorts into grotesque pig homunculi and forces them to operate the machine’s inscrutable workings.

It’s Mandus’ twisted way of saving the world - kill the rich for their crimes, enslave the poor for their own good, all hail the new machine/god/manager of the 20th century. It’s a neat reflection of the way modern politicians contort themselves to the whims of big business and AI snake oil salesmen to avoid doing the simple and obvious things that’d better the world. It’s a nightmarish refutation of Victorian Liberalism, that only the upper class know how to fix the problems of the lower class. It’s brilliant, and we should play it. 

"Do you hear me Mandus? This is what you planned! This world is a machine! A Machine for Pigs! Fit only for the slaughtering of pigs! Whores, beggars, orphans, filthy degenerates. Pigs all. But I will purify the streets, cleanse this city, set the great industry free. I will clean the world, make it pure." - The Machine, A Machine for Pigs

Song of the Year, of the Century

Not long after I came out as trans, I was asked what (in an ideal world) would make transition easier. I replied - never having to leave the house. One day I'd shut the front door as a man and another day, months or years later, I'd open it again as a woman, neatly sidestepping the terror of being perceived in a notoriously transphobic Britain.

In 2020 I shut that door and didn't open it for 4 months. At work, I remember calling the nearby shelter to donate our excess hand sanitizer and toilet roll, figuring out at the last second how support workers could take calls from their already isolated clients via their mobile phones, and fixating on the steady stream of scared coworkers leaving early. Tearfully, I felt the urge to hug those that remained as we locked up, before we remembered we probably shouldn't.

I've never been more aware of the minutia of moving through a space on the way home - How many people had their hands on this handrail? Have I touched my mouth or eyes without realising? Is anyone in the office already sick? Or on this train? How many more people are going to die? - My heart was in my chest, I heard the blood whoosh through my head to the beat of my steps on the pavement. At home, I realised my boyfriend had to go into work the next day. After he went to sleep, terrified he might die, I cried.

"I remember I felt an extraordinary persuasion that I was being played with, that presently, when I was upon the very verge of safety, this mysterious death—as swift as the passage of light—would leap after me from the pit about the cylinder, and strike me down." - "The Heat Ray", The War of the Worlds

Writing As the Sun Forever Sets was my way of coping with the disconnect with the world I felt, the fear of both Covid and the rising transphobia kept me inside even as the lockdowns eased. That feeling of throbbing death creeping at the window took a long time to wrestle under control, and getting deeply obsessed with a big project became part of that process. It seems incredibly maudlin to make a TTRPG dealing with darkness and death during a pandemic that killed (and continues to kill) millions of people, but I suppose I’m kind of a maudlin person.

“I haven't written a song in a month, So I'm playing the same chords again. I know I need to get lost in the moment, But I get lost before it begins. Fingers stretching out into space. Reaching as a thought slips away.”

It also burnt me the fuck out. After years of constant work and testing (beginning long before Evil Hat picked up the game), I ran out of steam. I spent the months after Evil Hat’s public playtest ended not really able to write anything ATSFS related at all. The game kind of froze - I knew what I wanted to change or fix or add, but the moment the google doc opened I couldn’t make myself start typing. It was incredibly frustrating to have the switch flip from endless obsessive writing to constant nothing, and I don’t think I truly recognised the burnout I was feeling until recently. It turns out spending years staying up past midnight writing is bad, who know!

A lot of Forged in the Dark games don’t get finished (or more accurately, get stuck in perpetual development), something that the excellent and dearly missed +1 Forward podcast recognised in their episode collecting their thoughts on the FITD games they looked at back in 2021. I think that’s because, at least to me, writing a Forged in the Dark game is like trying to hold a plate of spaghetti without the plate. It’s deceptively simple at its heart, but the system squirms when you poke at it - write one thing and it affects 3 other things. Tug one piece of pasta out and you lose a meatball without realising it.

When I listened to that episode, I took it as a challenge. Part of me now wonders if it was a curse. I'm being hyperbolic, of course. But a little part of me did think it might be better to give the game up.

That’s not going to be As the Sun Forever Sets' fate, thankfully. Evil Hat has been there to support me when I’ve felt guilty about shifting another deadline or replying to a check-in email with another late “Not much progress this month, sorry!” The frozen writers block is thawing, and I’m so tantalisingly close to finishing the final text. This blog is part of that process, another chip in the icy dam.

The wheels of dread Martian terror turn once again, and it feels good. Part of that is down to not beating myself up about a lack of progress. The more important part came when I realised I felt able to return to the world again - living in it, not hiding from it. Staying connected to it, even when there's times I'm not able to inhabit it physically. Covid, Britains particular brand of transphobic brainworms, and the shadow of Empire all continue to exist, and so do I - a weird maudlin transsexual woman - in spite of them all.

“The day seemed, by contrast with my recent confinement, dazzlingly bright, the sky a glowing blue. A gentle breeze kept the red weed that covered every scrap of unoccupied ground gently swaying. And oh! the sweetness of the air!” - “The Stillness”, The War of the Worlds

You made it!

Thanks for sticking with my messy thoughts. If what I talked about here sounds cool to you, please stop by the Discord, we'd love to have you. Look forward to seeing As the Sun Forever Sets come to a crowdfunding platform of Evil Hat's choice (I assume backerkit) at some point in the future ♥.

[anthonys237thfreckle]

I've been NEEDING some Javi & Scott angst, like the first night when Javi and Kate didn't set up the panel? (feel free to do romantic or platonic 🙏🙏)

I WROTE THIS BUT I DIDNT SAVE THE DRAFT

anyways here it is! i dont really write for scott but after a lot of research, i finally did! i rly hope this is okay lmao. Not the best at character x character, but theres a first time for everything!

i’m pretty inspired so i’ll write some javi x reader angst after this lol (i have sm free time until august 12th guys KEEP EM COMING)

please read the plot modification below, enjoy!

I love you, it’s ruining my life - Javier ‘Javi’ Rivera x Scott

prompt: Javi and Scott get into a heated argument

plot modification: Javi and Scott are still dating here!

TW: argument, mention of PTSD, getting shamed for PSTD, an explicit hand gesture, swearing

On the way to meeting Marshall Riggs, Javi and Scott’s investor, the tension in the car was thicker than the humid air in Oklahoma this summer. Neither said a word, Javi had his jaw clenched as he gripped the steering wheel, tight as a vice, his veins on his forearms showing. Scott looked out the window, chewing on his bottom lip, fiddling with the sunglasses in his hand, trying not to snap them out of pure impulse.

Scott’s mood was as sour as the unripe blueberries he’d grow to resent at the supermarket, chiding Javi for not being able to pick out produce; it was these little things that made him toxic - Javi was growing irritated.

Though, he was no saint either. Often biting back in arguments on how Scott grew to despise homosexual couples who lived perfect, happy lives with accepting parents in an accepting environment, how he can ‘never truly be happy for people who deserve it’.

Their relationship was hanging by a thread, and it was being teased by a razor.

Kate Carter.

“I still think we should head to El Reno” Javi said, shattering the silence “You know, Kate and I were talking-”

“Oh my god, do you ever shut up about her?” Scott snapped, turning his head sharply to meet his even sharper gaze. Javi looked at him with bewilderment, and Scott rolled his eyes

“You really trust her word after she lost that picture perfect storm, Javi?” Scott said bitterly

“It wasn’t her fault” Javi said firmly, turning to meet Scotts gaze with his own equally sharp one.

“She got super overwhelmed, that storm brought out some bad memories for her” Javi explained for what felt like the hundredth time for him. He was tired of having to defend his best friend from his boyfriend, and Scott had been getting on his nerves more than he cared to admit. Just as he thought Scott was done being a prick, he only proved he wasn’t.

“Well, someone should keep their emotions in check” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. Javi looked at him, a storm in his eyes.

“Okay, Scott, what the fuck.” Javi said, having enough of him. The anger and hurt was coursing through his veins, slipping into his tone.

“She has no goddamn ‘instincts’” Scott said with air quotes “She used a god damned dandelion to track our first storm.” He said, Kate’s more traditional ways clearly being judged by his more scientific ones.

“She grew up here, she knows what she’s doing” Javi defended “You know, Scott, you’re being a dick to her” Javi said, unimpressed. he turned his attention back to the road.

“We were real close in college. I know Kate, she has a god awful lot of potential” Javi said in a low tone, his message almost a threat.

“You should just date her at this point” Scott replied coldly. Javi was hot with rage. “Why is it whenever some straight, pretty girl comes along in my life you get so goddamn jealous?!” Javi snapped “She’s my best friend for god’s sake. We’ve been through some serious shit together” “So you think she’s pretty?!” Scott said, equally mad now.

“You know what?” Javi yelled, in a dangerous fury “Fuck you, Scott. I’m done. With you, with Storm Par, with exploiting innocent lives and being unethical.” He slammed on the breaks, unbuckled his seatbelt and left the car, not sparing a glance at Scott, who was surprised, but didn’t fight it. The relationship wasn’t worth fighting anymore.

It was ruining their lives

“Yeah, go run off to your girlfriend!” Scott yelled back at Javi, who winced. He wanted to say that his relationship with Kate was purely platonic, but he didn’t want to give Scott the satisfaction of pissing him off with his remark. But then again, by yelling back, he’d get the satisfaction of making Javi defensive.

So without looking back, Javi raised his fist, lifted his middle finger, and held it out for Scott, walking away on the dirt road in the opposite direction. He didn’t know where, he didn’t know for how long, he just knew he needed the air.

[grigori77]

Critical Role, Campaign 3 Episode 110

Oh no. Sam's in the mask again. He's a cat ... gods help us ... fuck ... the cat's in HEAT?!!! Suddenly Robbie is VERY AFRAID ... O.O ... a litter? It's getting worse ... who else is this? they're trouble, clearly ... Ashley: "Why are you doing this?" Sam Cat: "I think you know the answer. I'm a cat." Oh boy ...

Ah! Blood vomit! Always a nice place to start ...

Dad jokes ... great ... don't encourage him ...

Oh yeah ... Laudna's just letting it AAAAAAAALLLL hang out ... XD ... not that Imogen minds, I'm sure ...

Ahhhh ... the "Suck List" ... yeah ...

Yeah, it's so good to hear that Laudna truly is now entirely FREE of the curse that was that heinous bitch.

Ashton: "How WAS the Gwar concert?" Laudna: "Front row seats!"

Skyships! Ooooooooh ... what memories this brings back ... it's a little maudlin in a nostaglic way, if I'm honest.

Random D20 roll? "For the hell of it"? WHY, Matthew? Don't toy with our nerves this way ... 13? Hmmmm ... I hope that's good ...

A Message to Keyleth ... Allura's at the Platinum Sactuary? Okay, then ...

Awwww, Imogen ... SHENANIGANS!!! LOL

What ... try Speak With the Dead on the Titan? O.O ... not sure THAT would be the smartest idea ...

The Communal Death God Mask ... hmmmm ...

Imogen sends a Message to Liliana? Interesting ... I wonder how THIS is gonna go ... "I love you ... and I trust you ..." Okay ... A RESPONSE!!! Phew ... sounds like she's in a very fraught place ... trying her best but VERy alone in her resistance right now ...

To the Platinum Sactuary, then ... and EVERYBODY is tense ... the mood is ... fractious ... preparations for the coming battles ...busy busy busy ...

Oh, who's this? HOLY SHIT!!! Captain Xandis! Oh my god you sweet tiefling! Yay! I'm sorry ... Keybane? He has A TITLE now? Oh, that's cool ... Oh my, it sounds like he had quite the adventure ... but he lucked out, clearly ... a new ship? The Key Breaker! Cool ...

Yes, they have indeed been to the Moon!

Oh yeah, Xandis is definitely still VERY DUTCH. XD ... I love it.

Naming the Titan's butthole ... yeah ... LOL

Ah ... yeah ... FCG ... that's right, he doesn't know ... kind words, though. That's sweet.

"Smiley day" indeed ... :3

A temple of Asmodeus? Oh no, I really don't think there would be, no ... but yes, Fearne's got a point, might be a good idea to get the opinion of at least ONE Betrayer god ...

The thread! That's right, Dorian touched a thread! That's gotta have some bearing right there, that ...

Oh ... yeah ... Opal ...

Goodbyes? Yeah ... I mean, of course ... Orym has a point ... wht they're going into, there's no guaranteeing everybody's gonna make it through this ...

Preemptive eulogies? Intriguing idea ...

More jokes about the Titan's browneye ...

Allura! Hi!

Summoning Coriolis ... yeah ...

Wait ... CAN Braius speak to horses? Oh, so ... Speak With Animals? Hmmmm ... WHY does Matt make this fancy sky horse seem SO unsettlingly creepy like the more ODD horses do? And yeah ... OF COURSE that didn't work, Braius you DUMBASS ... LOL

So yeah ... WITH LUCK the Unseelie won't be an issue ...

I love how even now, after all these years, Allura's STILL the mom friend. XD ... it's so very reliable of her ... and she's so NOSTANGLIC too ... but then she has been the common thread throughout ALL THREE campaigns now ...

The state of play ... yeah ... O.O

So we all need to move SOON, then ... so not much time left for shenanigans ... hmmmmmm ...

THE MIGHTY NEIN?!!! Oh boy ... O.O

Making solid plans, then ... okay ...

Ah yeah, the classic Bag of Holding ... oooooooh! Goodies! Potions, lovely ... yeah, always good to have some Healing Potions to hand ...

Is Chetney really trying to EXTORT ALLURA FUCKING VYSORAN for cash? Yeah, no GEMS is what you need, dumbass! Diamonds and such! Stones! Maybe even one or two that COULD come in useful for Resurrections ...

Flamespeaker Cerkonus? Hmmmm ...

Oh gods ... slipping into New York New York ... did Matt do that on purpose just to trap them?

Yes. Go shopping for BIG diamonds ... that's exactly what the doctor ordered, folks. Get on that shit ...

Team Purchase and Team Titan? Cute ...

Where's Rome? I wasn't aware of any Exandrian city of THAT name, Chetney ...

So CHETNEY'S the big miser of this party, then ... I shoulc have known ...

Dorian casts Charm Peron on Chetney? Oh boy ... THIS is gonna be fun ... NICE. XD ... oh yeah, this is already adorable ... Dorian, you're a genius ... and now Chetney's being unusually GENEROUS ...

Team Shopping, then ... a Perception check? Why, Matthew? O.O ... oh gods ... that's not good ... are they already cleaned out? That's problematic ...

Cidrick's Shines & Keepsakes? Interesting ... why does Cidrick remind me of "Beardo" the tailor in Deapool & Wolverine? He's out? Hmmm ... oh, Braius is onto him ... YEAH, I figured as much ... his "bling"? Hmmmmm ...

PERFECT assist there, Chetney ... XD

"Weird forgery machinery"? Oh boy ...

Brewing supplies ... oh, does he make potions too? Yeah, definitely sounds like it ... anything else they can find that might be useful here?

More Whispers? Hmmmmmmm ...

SPICE?!!! Seriously? Come on, guys ...

Wow ... 200 gold for the half batch, then ... CHETNEY BUYS DRUGS ... great rolemodelling there, Travis! XD

Yeah, definitely sounds like Cidrick's dead and that guy was TOTALLY selling all his stuff ... O.O

Dorian's off on his own, just drinking it all in ... By Popular Demand? Hmmmmm ... oh, so he's doing the wandering minstrel thing ... awwww ... :3

Oh my gods DORIAN IS SINGING THE BALLADS OF BELLS HELLS!!! That's so sweet ... :3

Wow ... this particular piece of background music is SO FUCKING UNBELIEVABLY WELL TIMED!!! O.O

You'e a hell of a bard, Dorian ...

Here we are, then ... the Titan ...

Honestly, it sounds like quite a homely place actually, up close ... I could get used to a place like this ... and THIS is where we take a break? Okay, then ...

So ... a strange kinship for Ashton ... sounds about right ...

Laudna ... you KNOW you don't have a way with kids ...

The Shanks Cantina? Is THAT what the arse tavern's called? Oh, MORE Whispers ... hmmm ...

A toll? Oh they have NO IDEA who they're messing with ... oh here we go ... Laudna pulls a Beetlejuice on them ... XD ... yeah, I saw that coming ...

Oh my fucking gods, this is gonna be a LONG CLIMB, you sure you guys are up to it?

Yeah ... okay, this place is starting to seem a bit more ... ramshackle, maybe, now we're seeing it up close ... hmmm ... yeah, as I thought, it's definitely a rougher neighbourhood here ... but then I guess these are definitely more OUR people, so ...

Somethings inherently FAMILIAR here then, Ashton? Interesting ...

Oh, wow .. little pockets of genuine natural BEAUTY scattered throughout ... that's quite poetic ...

Abjuration wards ... oh, so they're about KEEPING this big buggar nice and fully DEAD ... yeah ...

Big open space? Oh, here we go ...

Laudna full-on Spiderclimbs onto the ceiling looking for a geode or too ... ooh, that's some pretty rubbish treasure-hunting there, Dead Girl.

So here, in the Heart, is better for what they want? Okay then ... settling in for a bit, with a fire ...

Ashton tries "feeling his way" into the ground without thinking about it too much ... and his hand is SINKING IN now ... okay ... oh, now his WHOLE ARM'S in this thing ... this is getting a bit trippy ...

Oh, full titan form? All right then ... in he goes, then ...

Interesting ... so he's NOT ACTUALLY DOING THIS, it just FEELS LIKE he is ... that's kind of FASCINATING ... boy's on like some weird elemental vision quest ...

Whoa ... so the Titan IS still kind of in there with him? O.O

And now he's talking with it ... okay ... so it's not just ONE entity, then ... more like some weird elemental hivemind ... hmmmm ...

"Lost"? Oh man ... this doesn't sound too promising ...

He's being crushed by a humongous fist ... great ... oh ... okay, this is has some potential ... "We are lost ... you are NOT ..." Interesting ...

Memories? Oh ... that's good, right?

Ashton: "Not broken, just ... in motion." Hmmmm ...

The Titan: "Remake yourself. Never ... stop ... changing ..."

And now he's awake again ... okay ...

"A talk with Exandria"? Trippy shit ... Laudna: "Exandria's a SHE?!!! I knew it!"

Trust Ashley to make it sound vaguely sexual ... XD

Go to Shank's? Okay, then ... a drink would be good ...

Shank's is a tiny dive bar ... OF COURSE it is ... this asshole is very tight, clearly ... XD

Laudna gets an impatient head-call from Imogen ... oh, that's embarrassing ... but also kind of adorable ...

Oh my gods the booze sounds AWFUL ... holy shit, that's gotta be the worst moonshine I've ever heard of ... 2 bottles? 2 and a half gold? Hmmmmm ...

Okay, Fearne's trying to negotiate ... if anybody could it's her ... maybe you should flirt with him, Calloway ...

5 silver and he has them all sign the wall? Weird ...

Matthew Mercer you have a filthy mind ...

Meeting up at the Silver Talon's Reach, then ... so a Short Rest and some fine crafting from Chetney and Braius while they wait ...

Braius: "Did you just have sex with somebody?" Dorian: "I had MUSICAL sex!"

Prime crystal magic materials, then ... nice ...

Kryn Dynasty soldiers? Interesting ... what's this about, then? Oh ... a female golblin? Hmmmmm ... she sounds very fancy and venerable ... must be a big deal, whoever she is ... oh yeah, this is definitely for us, then ...

A gift from the Dynasty? Okay then ... oh, so Chetney's the LEADER now, is he? Imogen audibly scoffs, as she should ...

Crystal vials? Hmmmm ... and an orb ... okay ...

Identify, then ... go for it, Fearne ...

2 Potions of Possibility and ... ooooooh, a card! So the sphere is something FANCY ... Sphere of Dunamantic Restoration? Cool ... so it's like a dunamis grenade, then ...

Allura again ... sweet ... oh ... potential goodbyes, then? Oof ... give the old girl a hug, guys! :3

Leeta? Cool! And Maeve! Also cool. Yes, nice, reunions then. And Orym catches up with home ...

Oh! Going through a tree, then? Yeah, smart ... oh yeah, Fearne's gonna have to learn THAT trick sometime ...

Dense forest, a bit warmer ... yup ... back at the lake, then ...

So, preparations have been made, meanwhile the others are on the way ... okay ... time to wait, then ...

Laudna hunts for Ropey ... :3

The boat! And the rope! Yay!

Orym's family really are the best, at least HE got to have the right homelife growing up. He deserves ALL THE HUGS ...

Now he gets Imogen to send him mum a Message ... awwww ... and she sends one right back. Yay! Pie heals all wounds, I swear ... :3

Orym: "Imogen Temult, I appreciate you." Imogen: "I appreciate you too, Orym."

And finally Imogen sends one to her father ... oh man ...

Yay! Butthole booze!

Braius pulls Dorian away for a private talk ... ah, advice, yes ... set this idiot straight, Dorian. PLEASE ... and WOW ... what advice it is ... O.O ... yeah ... IS Braius being honest right now or is he just twisting Dorian right round his little finger? He's too good a liar, we just can't tell ...

Yes, that's the trick. Dorian's got it ... Braius needs to learn it's "US", not him and "them" ...

Oh yeah ... yeah, it'll use up another spell slot, but Imogen and Laudna SHOULD say goodbye to Zhudanna ... which will PROBABLY give the old girl a heart attack ... oh boy ... yeah, maybe not, then ... O.O

Ashton makes up with Dorian ... which he maybe doesn't really NEED to do ... hmmmm ... I mean Blue Boy's pretty chill, after all ... and now they're discussing Opal ... oh boy ... just rip my guts out, why don't you ...

Oh! New arrivals? Hmmmm ... is this good or bad?

There's SEVEN of them ... okay ... cue chaos as they try to work out how they're going to greet them ... wow ... they're really not very good at this ... you're all such dorks, I love it ... XD

Oh wow ... so Matt's having THEM tell what the Nein see? Cool ... and we hear them all doing the original voices ... NICE ... oh wow! Nott's back! Sweet!

Fuck, I am in HEAVEN right now ... :3

Holy shit ... Fearne meeting Jester is THE BEST THING to have happened so far this campaign, I swear ... LOL

Matt's busy geeking out when he calls it a night and I can't balem him ... the next episode's going to be a FUCKING TRIP, I swear ...

[tgirlfoxtail]

hi! looking for FPE roleplay?

my friends and i have made an FPE server, with a focus on OCs (though canon characters are allowed) and interaction- be it friendly or conflicting- between those characters!

immediate note: 90% of us are 18+, and the server will remain that way until we decide to be more lenient later. we know this may stifle people joining, but if we do become more lenient, we're gonna be doing 16 or 17 anyways. right now, we are 18+.

there is no real "DNI" criteria other than that and don't be a douche lmfao

i'll also bring along the rules from the server, just so you know what you may be getting into; as of posting this, it's a good 9 of us strong, with a good portion up to roleplay already :)

the rules, at the moment, are as follows:

# ACTUAL RULES

1. Don't be a dick lol you know the deal- no bigotry, admins are final arbiters, 3 strike system unless you *really* fucked up lol

2. If it wasn't clear from *my* language, yes, you can swear and shit- no slurs, with VERY minor exceptions. NSFW jokes are allowed, but spoil anything truly explicit. Gore discussion counts under this rule; spoil it (but obv it's allowed, cause.. i mean.. look at the animation lol).

3. If it *also* wasn't clear from my PROFILE and also EVERYTHING ELSE about me, systems- and I want to specifically mention fictives- are very welcome here. Endos are not. System stuff's serious, as is all the drama around it; I don't want none of it here >:(

4. gimmie oreos (i like this joke also they genuinely taste good)

5. When it comes to RP, please create a thread for any channels with "-threads" as a name; it's to avoid bloat and people covering each other up in separate locations, but similar spots (ie halls and classrooms). Also, be polite; you may RP however you want, but don't judge if someone wants to RP a certain way or doesn't want to RP with you due to your style.

6. Anyone may set a scene, a general canon will likely be tracked or made somewhere by me and anyone who's ideas sound neat and get a majority 👍 from my friends.

7. grand dad

8. Rolling for actions is allowed- if you've ever played apocalypse world systems, this'll be familiar. Use 2d6, 1-6 is a failure (consequences and no completion of the action), 7-9 is a mixed success (do the thing worse, consequences, etc), and 10+ is a full success (thing is done without unforseen complications). Double 6s can be considered a crit, with snake eyes being a crit fail, if you feel so inclined. Modifiers can be from -2 to +3, and can be discussed beforehand.

9. Teeechnically there can be multiple of the same character, but preferrably try Not to do that. don't need a million me's running around but it's also funny lmao

here's the link, and do your required reading, as without doing so you won't be able to interact immediately. have fun, and see you there! AND DON'T BE LATE !!!

(also, psst, you can slide me a few bucks and i can actually draw ocs in the FPE style; there will be examples in the server, sorry for shilling-)

[beautifulpersonpeach]

I'm so full. I'm so happy. This is everything that I wanted for the tannies. It's so amazing. Never mind its 144p and I'm still learning the lyrics. I had such a blast! Jimin was so cute. Yoongi was so funny and cute and sexy and awesome and just,,, just,,, JUST!!! Couldn't stop grinning while watching their wlive and burst out laughing as Yoongi ended it so abruptly. lol Love you, Yoongi. Love them. Who's doing it like them? Have you seen the Tiffany crowd? Have you seen the concert crowd?!!?

***

It’s a different sort of high being a fan of BTS, isn’t it?

It’s a different sort of joy seeing them be their remarkable, awe-inspiring and goofy selves. It’s so beautiful to see the love they so clearly have for each other. It feels a little too intimate sometimes, and in my experience, this is a feeling that’s unique to BTS. This group is very special. What they’ve got feels genuine because it is.

Jimin was vibing hard. Yoongi’s performance felt electric from start to finish. They spent time together, [*]riding to the venue and leaving afterwards. Its clear as day that Yoongi is happy Jimin is with him, and Jimin wears the respect and love for his hyung on his face. It’s just so easy with them.

And can I just mention Yoongi’s energy during tonight’s concert?

The way he attacked HUH?!

AGUST D???

Christ.

It’s like he gets stronger, wilder, every concert… lol, like I suspected, he’s already a bit too good at this. I’m gonna need him to calm down before the Cali dates. And now that we know we’re getting Tony Montana at a future date, I think we’re all going to really learn to pace ourselves. This could get crazy before long.

Because we’re only three days in and I’m already hanging on by a thread.

What he’s doing to me with these performances cannot be written on the internet.

He fucks me up so bad y’all.

Let me go on a short tangent here:

STD is an acronym that’s known in Korea to mean what you think it means. Everybody knows it. Language isn’t a barrier in this case. When people in Korea hear “STD”? They know what it’s referring to.

Now, what do you think about the way Yoongi introduced his alternate persona: AGUST D in 2016? The way he enunciates that phrase is sickening and intentional. The very mention of his name in the mouths of his detractors is a sickness they get from him fucking them. Or ‘fat dicking’ them, to quote Yoongi. And on that song he spits one of the sickest bars of his entire career. You’re guaranteed to be fucked just by hearing it. I mean just in his name there’s already triple entendres.

It’s mad.

Yoongi has a very peculiar energy. It’s very catlike, but also serpentine and there’s an undercurrent of barely restrained lunacy deep beneath the surface. Hobi is actually more crude than Yoongi in speech and flow, but Yoongi can be so cruel. And that quality, one he doesn’t shy from turning on himself too, coupled with his pragmatic and caustic delivery… lord. He sets himself apart from every other artist alive. Nobody in BTS cuts to the bullshit faster than Yoongi - he’s lived through the consequences of deluding yourself that you’re okay when you’re not. He’s a man who is constantly examining himself, checking his worst tendencies, but never compromising on what he truly believes.

Ugh.

Times like tonight, I look at BTS and feel so much calm. They are so competent, and I’m certain whatever they make, it will be very good. Yoongi has proven that so far with this tour. Yoongi’s D-DAY concert tour is easily the best solo concerts I’ve been to this decade, and I haven’t even attended one yet. But it’s easily the best one. Easily. And I’ve been to a lot (actually been to them), especially in the last 12 months.

That crowd Jimin pulled for the Tiffany’s event is no joke. We’re now at the point where Western celerities know they’re not the main popularity driver if Jimin is also involved. They know the crowds are there for Jimin. And when he eventually showed up, he looked magnificent. Elegant. Polished. Understated. One of these days I want to see Jimin bejewelled and dressed in all primary colours - something more vibrant and queer. But that Tiffany’s event went for traditional and understated and that’s okay. It worked, because Jimin can work anything.

**

Edit [*]: Typo correction. Should include "after", meaning after arriving at and leaving the concert, Yoongi and Jimin spent time together. They arrived separately and left together, spent time together also before and after.

[feysandfeels]

LUISA READS FOURTH WING :)

Right fam, time for some dragon riding (non sexual… from what I have been able to gather)

Ngl, but reading (listening) the "a dragon without its rider is a tragedy, a rider without its dragon is dead" after seeing so many tiktoks about it and them being all epic, has me giddy, has me excited. Here we go.

So far we have a cunty yet caring elder sister, a dead dad, a rude as fuck mum, a dead brother (who apparently was beloved above all) and a girl severely lacking in calcium.

"you won't get any special treatment just for being my daughter" my sister in christ, what special treatment? so far you have been nothing like an ass.

I cannot judge Violet for wanting to take her books with her....but babygirl from what I have seen you truly have no strength.. so like..sugar.. either develop some muscle or like let it go.

What's so wrong about being a scribe? like what do you all have against academia?

Okay no wait... what are they prepping her for? What the fuck is this subscription day? isn't it like just first day of uni?? Is she fighting? is it a race? to like the first dragon they can find? the first tunnel of their respective career?

aaaaaaaand here comes the childhood friend with soft brown eyes that laughs with his whole body.

Seems like extremely poor parenting to send your extremly untrained daughter into such a challenge... like she has to climb some rocks... and like run a lot, there's going to be wind. Like no. And for what? for the glory of your name? SHE CAN'T EVEN LIFT HER OWN BOOKS!

Gotta love a "This isn't America's TOP BEST FRIEND" moment.

I'm sorry but how is conscribing (?) all children from the traitors to the best school in the kingdom/republic/empire/country and give them a solid ass chance of becoming riders, and therefore climb to the top of the social and military pyramid a fitting punishment? They should have ended their respective bloodlines. You rebel you and your entire bloodline die.

Colombian brain translating Xaden to Xavier.

I should have asked... can dragons talk in this world?

What is the parapit?? Is that how it is written?

Mira (?) is a badass. Queen behaviour.

Mira being like "don't die Violet, I'd hate to be an only child." And having seen her mother? Honestly same. Like no. Hard Pass.

Wait is the blonde guy she is befriending the one with the scar from the betrayal?? Dylan? yes? no?

Oh and they get to marry after graduating. Why do I feel I am walking straight into another early 20s marriage.

Most riders are legacies... good to see nepotism is alive and well. Neporiders.

Oh so Xaden has tattoos from his wrist up to his jaw.. okay, okay.

AND HIS FATHER KILLED HER OLDER BROTHER. AND THEY WERE ROOMATES!

My girl really went "He is #SoTall and #HandsomeAsHell"

I don't get what this challenge is about and apparently Dylan is not making it, he liked slipped or smth and is like hanging...

yeah no he fell to his death. RIP Dylan.

My girl is like screaming history facts to distract herself while she [insert the challenge.... I think it's walking a very slippery bridge]

Okay so Jack is an asshole... it's giving Cato.

Kinda want to bet that he will try to eventually fight Violet and Xaden will defend her.

Got confirmation, it is in fact a bridge.

Rihannon made it. Which is a personal win because she seems sweet.

Oh my god Jack focus on your own thing, you are being and asshole, no one cares. Fuck off, fall to your death, shut up. Like why are you so pressed about this random ass calcium lacking girl. GET A JOB. STAY AWAY FROM HER.

Not her reciting the codex lol it is giving Elizabeth Swann citing The Pirate Code to Captain Barbossa. Babygirl, bless you, but he clearly does not give a fuck.

Violet truly made that crossing out of delulu energy and history facts and honestly? respect.

Wait, hold the fuck on... this audiobook is 21h long? what on god's green earth is going to happen in this book? oh my god this thread is going to be huge. Apologies to all.

omg Jack why are you still talking? either shut up or jump infront of a dragon and die. LIKE WHY ARE YOU SO OBSESSED WITH HER? He is giving blonde guy energy (but not the one you gave Dylan. RIP Dylan. You will never be forgotten)

aaaaaahhh there we go Jack threatened her and when he makes the move to kill her Xaden will be like "the fuck bro" and kill him instead.

Here comes the childhood best friend. I feel he is hot. Dane? Dane Atos?? Kinda hot of him. Wait he is Squad Leader? that's hot.

[taromilksnake]

8:19am 陰天, clarity

his favorite kind of weather outside

slept pretty well, meowu come in my face, she did her usual under cover, rotate, pillow cuddle even with the cone on, which is really cute. some trouble falling asleep but slept deeply and dreamlessly. woke up and immediately fantasized about having anthony over and fucking tearing his clothes off and cuddling and having him fuck me. part of that is also just the fantasy of cohabiting in general

good news is that my period seems to be tapering off. the wrist braces at night seems to help a lot too, and meowu is slowly but surely healing up her nose in her cone (our “coquette little lamp”).

learned a lot about myself last night. sherry came over to hangout and do work, went out to dinner with julia and sherry up north. relaxed by the end of the night, but the mood was a lil quiet, and lil weird in hindsight. conflict of interests/needs (me being alone and lonely for several days, julia and sherry needing social recovery/down time after grandma visit fucked them over and got them sick for several days). basically just unfortunate timing, but it hit a nerve when julia was triggered by me stopping by as a surprise (i felt like mom a bit too), and it hit a nerve even when sherry was sympathetic and telling me that unintentionally it felt that i was “disrespectful” of their down time by wanting to be more “on” or hang out. same “issue” as the phone conversation with anthony actually, in that he wanted our time to be more chill and i wanted attention and engagement. bad timing indeed, as anthony also needs his time to get his life in order (and catch up on sleep by the sounds of it), so i really have been emotionally alone, at least in bouts and hours at a time. it was nice for sherry to reiterate that they haven’t been “emotionally available” to me, and that we will reconvene and debrief once they’ve rested up and we’re all in a better headspace. hearing from sherry, it’s gave me clarity that it’s felt extra lonely, since sherry and julia are on the same page, having experienced similar exhaustion and frustration.

the theme really is just my need for attention. remember suddenly that anthony told me i “can just ask” for cuddling or attention after my first Magic breakdown, and the silly meme that says “if you feel needy, then take.” we had a fun conversation about the signs too, and julia’s assessment for leo’s (shared by her friend) was dead on — pretends to be aloof, but secretly craves attention and is not beneath lying and manipulation to get it. at the same time, is deeply loyal (and regal, like a lion), and will “put the spotlight on others.” attention from leo’s feels truly special (maybe because they appreciate it so much themselves. i hope that’s true. i hope that my presence is appreciated, wanted. i’m remembering the other piece of sherrys conversation, that julia and sherry do want to know what’s been happening in my life, that dating anthony is a big change and they do care and want to know. that it’s just bad timing. i hope i didn’t misspeak when i said sherry and mikey seemed like they were “going thru a rough patch” some affirmations: grandma wants me around, anthony wants me around, meowu wants me around, sherry wants me around, julia wants me around, mom wants me around, gavriela does, lito and teresa does, cassandra does too. lots of people consider me a part of the periphery of their life, if nothing else.

i’ve (re)learned a lot about myself having (forcibly lol) spent so much time by myself, and getting to talk to sherry after being honest about hesitations on talking about anthony. that even with people closest to me, i still need to be brave and speak up about my desires, however awkwardly or poorly received. how acute my sense of rejection is when threads of my conversation is glossed over, and that it’s important to pick them back up anyway, social norms be damned. if you’re needy then take. that my deepest fear and insecurity ultimately is to be unwanted, to be rejected at my most vulnerable.

lots of complete today (including finishing cleanup, ideally), but let me take today one moment at a time and do my best to enjoy every moment, like a time being, like it’s the second try, like ms harts advice. it’s going to be ok, and you’re going to have a blast 💞

[wangshuus]

no love left | diluc ragnvindr

pairing: diluc ragnvindr/gn. reader

genre: angst

wc: 3.2k

cw: mild cussing, brief mentions of violence, probably lore breaking too lol. 

summary: falling out of love is painful but maybe it’s what you needed.

note: please read the authors note after the story ESPECIALLY if you’re confused because i’ve implemented a few odd aspects into this story. i was just typing out whatever so essentially it’s more word vomit (again lol) but uhh yeah. most of the important stuff is at the bottom so like i said before, read that authors note at the end!!

lightly proofread, please don’t mind any errors

fic below the cut.

When the esteemed bachelor Diluc Ragnvindr finally settled down with a lover, the news did not fail to spread across Mondstadt like a wildfire. It was the talk of town for who knows how long but as time passed, the people settled down and the buzz eventually died but no one ever failed to acknowledge the young Ragnvindr and his beloved when they were together. Although the two preferred to keep a composed look to the public eye, the admiration they held for each other burned as bright as a summers day in their eyes at all times when they were together; from that alone, anyone could tell they were in love

So where did it all go wrong?

You sat across from Diluc at a table in the winery, the air thick with a suffocating tension that felt like it was going to swallow you whole at any minute now. Your hands rested on the table in front of you as you barely managed to keep your hands from trembling as a storm of emotions stirred inside of you as you felt your composure on the brink of cracking any second. You decided to finally break the silence as you spoke up, a slight tremble in your voice.

“What is it Diluc? Huh? I was hoping you’d have the decency to speak up about whatever the hell is going on instead of leaving me in the dark but it’s been far too long now. Now tell me Diluc, what’s going on?”

Oh the way your words slipped from your mouth made the room feel so cold, even if you didn’t wield a vision of any sorts. Diluc took a deep breath before he decided to speak up.

“What went on between the two of us was purely business.” Was the simple statement he gave.

Was?

“They’ve shown themselves to be quite the individual, wielding good etiquette with both business and a weapon.” He spoke out once more.

“God sake Diluc you’re fucking stalling at this point. You know what, I’ll make it easier for you. Do you still love me?”

There was a pause. A long painful pause. You already had your answer.

“(Y/n), I still care for you more than you can ever imagine, I truly do.”

The words felt like knives piercing through your form and from that, you felt the first tear slip down your face.

“Diluc, are you even aware of how terrible I feel in this situation right now? I’m watching my lover from a far doing lord knows what and you expect me to just tolerate it? I trusted you enough which is why I never pried at it but fuck Diluc, it’s just unbearable at this point.”

“I never did act upon anything in fears of making the situation worse--” You cut him off.

“Making the situation worse huh? So you were out here trying to do some crowd control weren't you? Was if for the sake of not hurting me or or for the sake of not tainting your pristine reputation?”

“I said before, I really do care for you still.” His hand reached towards your own as he held your hand with utmost gentleness. You were almost convinced he still loved you as much as he did in the past.

“However, I can’t deny that our dynamic has indeed changed. I…” His grip on your hand tightened.

“I can’t lie to you and say that I love you the way I did before.”

There it was.

“You don’t look at me the way you used to, you know? Your eyes used to be so full of love whenever you looked at me but that look is reserved for someone else now, isn’t it? You’ve looked at me with nothing but sorrow and pity nowadays and I guess my assumptions of the worst were correct.” You said as your voice trembled even more.

You wanted to pull your hand away so badly, the hand that once brought you such warmth now felt as if it was searing your skin. But you couldn’t. Not when this was mostly likely the last time you’d ever feel such an intimate touch from him. You found yourself to be conflicted as to whether you wanted to pull away out of pure frustration or savour the moment as it could be the last of him you would ever get to have for yourself.

“(Y/n), from the bottom of my heart, I’m truly sorry. I’ve loved you for so long and you’ve given me more love than I could’ve ever imagined. I never wanted things to change but I suppose fate had other plans. I’ll never stop caring for you however, I’m afraid I’ve stopped loving you in the way you’re used to.”

The truthful words were ones that felt like hell to swallow. You didn’t want to believe it but you knew damn well he was telling the truth. The sincerity and softness in his voice made it so hard to be completely mad at him. He was so gentle with his words but the truth of them did nothing but make your heart hurt and ache. An empty chuckle left your lips as your features were now graced with a bittersweet smile.

“Ah, I think I would’ve appreciated it if you were meaner with your responses. Maybe then I wouldn’t have such a hard time letting you go.” You finally managed to look him in the eyes, his reflection showing on your glossy orbs.

He felt his own heart churn with remorse and guilt, seeing as he terribly hurt the one person that he had sworn to love and protect for the rest of his days. He felt sick over the fact he failed to keep part of the promise-- the part where he said that he would continue to love you.

That was one of the last times you had ever seen Diluc Ragnvindr.

--

Your body shook as the freezing temperatures of Dragonspine overtook your senses. You sat up against a rock, your back leaning onto it as you struggled to keep yourself upright. You were barely holding on by a thread as you physically felt numb. However, your mind swirled with a storm of emotions, almost as strong as the last day you had seen your ex-lover but this time, you reminisced on your time as you felt like this would be your final moments.

You pondered over the fact that this might’ve been the reason that he no longer loved you in the way you wished to be loved by him. You wanted his affections, you wanted his love, you wanted him. But you were too weak. That was it. He let you go for someone that was strong, so very strong; both mentally and physically. God, you couldn’t even compare to the likes of them, being nothing but a measly old adventurer, one that wasn’t even fortunate enough to wield a vision. You were nothing but weak in your own eyes; that's what brought you to your demise.

In your hands, you clutched one of the last treasures you had found in the cursed mountains. It was a pretty little collar that held a jewel that twinkled so beautifully despite the dull, hazy environment.

“You do not wish to be weak anymore do you, little one? Do not be afraid, put me on and I’ll grant you the desires you so wish to obtain. Abide by my rules and obtain for me the essence of life and together, we can make sure that everyone will hail before you.”

A voice echoed inside your head as your mind began to spiral. All morals, memories and feelings began to drown out until you were barely hanging on by thread.

“Hurry, time is of the essence! Quick!”

With little energy you had left, you were able to hang the new found possession around your neck. The second you let go of the clips that held the piece together, you felt a tight constriction around your neck, the feeling was suffocating. Just like the last time you had seen Diluc. For a moment, you thought of the red haired male you once held to dear and close to your heart. It ached for him once more in that very moment because he was the very essence of warmth and it was something that you so desired in such a moment like this. The way he held you against him in the coldest of nights in an attempt to keep you warm and oh how it worked wonderfully. It was a memory that slowly faded away with your conscience. Your hands graced themselves lightly around your neck as you struggled to breathe even more than before, your body finally running out of any sort of energy as you fell limp against the cold and soft snow.

Anything. From this point on, you would do anything to get stronger. You no longer cared for any mishaps that happened along the way. You had no love left, nothing but the hunger for power that drowned out the aching void that was now left behind after everything was torn away from you.

“Sorry... to also have you shoulder the grievances of the world. Since you could endure my bitter cold, you must have the desire to burn? Then, burn away the old world for me.”

Within the bustling harsh winds of the Dragonspine mountains laid a girl with a jewelled necklace as well as a cold, icy blue orb that shined brightly against the blizzards.

--

“The expedition out in Dragonspine was a complete disaster! The winds were harsher than usual and how could we predict such a nasty storm would’ve been upon us? We planned so far ahead and yet it ended up utterly terrible.” One of the adventurers commented as they were in the process of recovering after descending from the unforgiving mountains.

“Did everyone that went on the expedition come back? There’s absolutely no way we can risk going up there again, at least not for a while.” Another commented.

There was an excruciating silence within the camp.

“Has anyone seen (Y/n)?”

--

Diluc had set out once the late hours of the night and the early hours of the morning came upon him. He continued to lurk from the shadows and deal with whatever trivial matters that had to be dealt with in the dead of night as he always did. He had heard of a few nuisances that arose near the outskirts of Dragonspine that hadn’t been dealt with yet. Of course the knights wouldn’t bother with this anyways, as per usual what he thought to himself.

Though the male held a pyro vision, the sharp and bitter cold of Dragonspine was something that never failed to make him uncomfortable.

He swiftly made his way to the location, being stealthy and fast with his movements in an attempt to get the job done faster to refrain from being caught. Once he had made his way to the destination, he remained hidden while he examined the area. In the far distance, he saw camps, hilichurl as well as Fatui camps that were not too far off. His face held a look of distaste as his eyes laid upon the familiar trademark symbol of the Snezhnayan organization.

Just as he was about to step out and deal with the hilichurl camp himself, a figure emerged from afar and into the camp. The movements of said person were agile, fast and swift, ice shards being directed in the direction of every living being on the camp. A blizzard stirred so fiercely upon the camp and as the barbaric bitter winds of the snow died down, there was almost nothing left of the camp that once stood there.

Not a single soul.

Diluc very cautiously moved closer to get a better look at the strange person that appeared before him. His eyes widened in disbelief as he started to make out the figure, his mind refusing to believe what he saw in front him, almost regretting letting his curiosity get the best of him.

“I wasn’t aware that you people are unable to take care of a measly little hilichurl camp. I specifically stated to clear the area before anything else and you couldn’t even follow instructions as simple as that, or perhaps I wasn’t clear enough with my statement?” An icy voice boomed out towards a trio of Fatui skirmishers.

That voice was all too familiar to Diluc. It was so familiar yet it sounded so different, so harsh, so cold. Yet, it was the voice that confirmed his unruly suspicions.

“Make up for your poor performance by getting the camps set up in a decent manner at the very least. I’d rather spare myself the trouble of punishing the likes of you people. You don’t wish to cross me any further, do you?” A cold, hard glare very evident on your fact that was directed to the three in front of you.

They frantically shook their heads, sputtering out a series apologies in an attempt to ease your annoyance.

“Make use of yourselves and set up immediately. By the time I come back to supervise the area, everything should be set up in a manner that is nothing less than perfect. If you wish to please me this time, do as you’re told this time. Now go.” You shook them off with a wave of a hand as they saw themselves away in an instant.

You took your time to avoid the now empty camp that rid itself of almost all remains. A hand placed itself atop the jewel that gracefully sat between your collarbones. The voices that swirled in your head chanting for more power and more life eventually died down as the constrictions of your beloved collar began to loosen, just enough so you could breathe. You let out a breathe that you had been holding before regaining your composure. You stood up straight with a proud stature before speaking out.

“I know you are there, may as well come forth voluntarily unless you want be to bring you out myself.”

Diluc’s blood ran cold when he realized that that you were most likely referring to him, baffled at how you were able to pick up on his own presence. He cautiously revealed himself and made his way a little closer to you. The second you laid eyes on the redhead, you felt like your world stopped for a second. The initial shock was replaced with amusement as the scene unfolded in front of you.

“And to think that last time we saw each other would be the last.” You said before bitterly chuckling.

Diluc took some time to muster up words and recover from his initial shock.

“You never came back from that mission. You were claimed to be dead by the guild the day after and yet here you are. The people mourned over you. I mourned for you. What has become of you, (Y/n)?” Diluc spoke out, pain and sadness laced within his tone.

“Ha, they mourned? As well as yourself? Don��t make me laugh Ragnvindr. Was your mourning perhaps an act in an attempt to keep up your reputation. Would not surprise me in the slightest if that were the case. I refuse to accept the pity of others, and I absolutely detest if it is empty and meaningless. Pity is for those who are weak and as far as I’m concerned--”

You stepped closer to Diluc before you continued.

“I’m not weak anymore.”

“(Y/n), you were never weak--” Diluc said before he was cut off.

“Bullshit Ragnvindr. Utter bullshit.” You harshly spat.

“I wasn’t able to handle myself before. I was nothing but weak. It was one of the reasons you fell out of love with me, was it not? You wanted a strong individual that could take care of themselves and you sure got one, but it wasn’t me at the time. Look now Ragnvindr, I am strong now.”

He took a better look at you as the realization of your position has begun to sink in.

“You... you’re…” In one of the rare times of his life, he was at a loss for words.

“Ah, Ah, Cat got your tongue? Poor boy can’t even muster up any words.” You chuckled mockingly.

“Fatui Harbinger, Ragnvindr. Number 12. Surely you’ve heard right?” You boldly stated.

Yes, he did hear. The Tsaritsa had taken another Harbinger under her wing yet the news and information of said Harbinger was extremely scarce and yet, No.12 stood right before Diluc.

No.12 was once his own beloved.

“What exactly led to all of this? What caused all of this to happen? What have you done to yourself?” The questions kept pouring out from Diluc’s mouth.

“It was quite simple. I got sick and tired of being weak and having things being taken from me. I have lost too many things to count and I have sacrificed many things to become who I am today. I do not regret a single thing I have done since I have started being selfish and being selfish has kept me from getting hurt again. I do not need you anymore, I do not need anyone in fact. I live for myself and to serve the needs of the Tsaritsa to repay her for giving me a chance to live the way I should’ve been all along.” You look at him with a taunting smirk on your face.

The (Y/n) (L/n) that was once known to be the beloved of Diluc Ragnvindr was dead. They died the moment you stepped out of the winery for the very last time. You were (Y/n), No.12 of the Fatui Harbingers. You were the one that sacrificed yourself to a curse upon the Dragonspine mountains in exchange for power to fill the void that was left behind. You no longer had the longing for love; you had none left after all. You craved for power and leverage over others and you refused to let people trample over you like they did before. You refused to be weak again. With the help of your new found vision as well as the curse that now burdened you, you would conquer the world and burn the old one away, along with your old self.

With no love left, there was nothing left to lose after all.

A/N: SOOOO the whole choker thing might be a little confusing but BASICALLY i took the whole concept from the “Love me, Love me, Love me.” song where the girl gets that cursed necklace/choker and i changed the concept around a little bit so that in exchange for power, dear reader has to basically slaughter things to keep the choker from killing them LOL (I’m tired pls my mind if SPIRIALING rn lmfao)

the italics in the second chunk are the weird choker speaking to the reader since it's a whole ‘curse’ thing and the bold italics in the second chunk is basically a quote from genshin from the cryo gemstone thingies and i used it to signify the reader getting a cryo vision^^ there’s a lot i wanna say but i’m too lazy to elaborate sorry lol. kinda feel like making more parts to this bc i feel like the story could go one but ehhh we’ll see how I’m feeling. i really just wanted to make a oneshot where the reader goes batshit after so ahahahahhaha. (also this fic feels lore breaking as fuck but its ok LMAO)

[miss-choco-chips]

Umm... I was wondering if you could Maybe do a follow up on your mini fic Last Line from dicks pov? It gave me alot of feelings and i would love to see the fallout?

Your work is really good! Its so cool how your brave enough to put pieces of yourself out there for other people!

Hey babe! Thank you for your kind words! It made me smile getting this, you are very sweet <3

I totally forgot about Last Line lol, but when I saw it reminded me that I actually wrote a bit more of it, both before and after the scene I posted. So, this isn’t exactly what you asked, but here’s some backstory and then the fallout!

---.---

Four years old, and he watches the red string on his finger pulled taunt towards the crying boy, the color of the thread well disguised among the red blood of the murdered acrobats.

Nine, and he watches from the shadows as it swings right and left, following Robin’s pirouettes from building to building. The thread, that usually goes a few feet before ‘vanishing’ from sight, was almost completely visible now, at such a short distance from the person holding onto its other end.

He’s on his twelve when he tries to explain to Dick the importance of him going back home. He wasn’t sure of his success, even though the older hero took him to the manor, because during his whole speech, Nightwing hadn’t looked up from the red joining them together. It wasn’t exactly how Tim wanted him to find out, but… Batman needed a Robin, and he was out of options.

At fourteen, he feels Kon’s hand clenching on his shoulder, as they both watch from the side how Nightwing swept Barbara off her feet and twisted her around, laughter falling from both their lips even as Dick thread’s end was pointing towards Tim. The third Robin didn’t turn to look at his best friend, didn’t meet Bart’s eyes or react to Cassie taking his hand on hers. He just made sure his face was perfectly devoid of any emotion when he muttered, low enough only a kryptonian would hear, ‘I wish it was any of you’. 

(A few nights later, when he and Conner were sitting quietly on the Tower’s roof, the clone took Tim’s hand with his own, his lack of red string blatantly obvious as he said ‘If I had any, I wish it could be you’. To this day, it’s the sweetest thing anyone ever said to him)

He is so, so tired, and he’s only sixteen. But keeping up with the shitfest that was the Battle for the Cowl, helping Dick while ignoring his red string (pulling him towards Nightwing, now Batman, stark contrast against the dark of his suit, with distracting insistency), dealing with Damian’s abuse as expected of him as the ‘mature, older brother’, coping with Bruce’s death, the shock of Dick throwing him, his soulmate, away so so easily…

(Shouldn't be surprising; Dick had been discarding him in favor of others since they met, shamelessly displaying his various relationships in front of him with an attitude that might be called cruel from anyone else but that just earned him playful shoves from other Leaguers while Tim was expected to swallow his pain, because a red string isn’t a promise, Dick is free… and yes, he knows that, but it doesn’t mean shit to his dying heart)

(Maybe, when he left for proof of Bruce being alive, it wasn’t so much for his old mentor than it was for himself)

----.----

Tim is seventeen and halfway across the world, looking at the string attached to his hand that never truly meant anything to any other than him (not to Bruce, who never took Dick aside and talked to him about consideration with his soul mate; not Dick's conquers, who never gave a fuck  about the red string in the hands that touched their skin, even when a lot of them knew who was on the other end of it; not Dick himself, who after asking every thing out of Tim and having it, forcefully took the one thing Tim wouldn't give by choice and claimed Tim was his equal, his soulmate, so he never could be his sidekick... even if it was the first time ever that Dick even mentioned the string tying them both together), when he thinks 'you were always free; now, I'm freeing myself’.

He gingerly bites on the string, and with his other hand takes a handful of it and pulls.

The pain piercing his heart is expected, but not new. He had been feeling it since the first time he saw Dick's back as he walked away with someone else.

He times it carefully, too. He doesn't think Dick would care, but just in case, Tim waits until it's morning in Gotham, when he's sure Dick is probably sleeping after patrol.

Maybe he would wake up without noticing

---.---

In Gotham, Dick is carried by Alfred and Damian to the cave, when the new Batman's screams of pain woke everyone in the Manor up. They are suspecting cardiac arrest, and then Dick looks down to his hand and notices the string, always tense, signaling him where his north is, where Tim is, laying loose and lifeless.

He panics, asks Superman to track Tim down or something, and when the man confirms Tim is still alive somewhere in the Middle East, he knows.

And like a freight train, the parting words Kori told him the last time they saw each other hit him right in the chest.

"He isn't going to wait for you forever"

----.-----

When Tim does come back, at nineteen, it’s a quiet thing. 

He spent the last how many days carefully setting his systems up, making sure his mainframe would outstand Oracle’s scrutiny when she realized he was back in town and tried to hack her way into his life.

(He didn’t blame her, of course not. Dick was charming enough, good enough, anyone he set his eyes into would be helpless to nothing but fall in his arms.

And, wasn’t Tim the one who would have been intruding, had he tried to chase after the first Robin? Everyone knew he and the original Batgirl were a perfect match, thousands of times better than Tim, whom Fate just wanted to screw over.

But not anymore)

The first thing he did, once the safe houses were chosen and his programs up and running, was to ruthlessly hack into the Batcomputer and take a look at patrol routes. 

He would need to keep clear of Diamond District and Old Gotham, least he risked crossing paths with B and R. The Financial and City Hall Districts were apparently Batgirl’s playground for the night, and if he wanted to drop by and let Cass know he was back, he could always search for her by the Upper West Side down to Chinatown.

He would avoid the Upper East Side like the plague, though. Maybe Coventry too, just to be safe. Lots of skintight blue in that direction.

Which left… Crime Alley, the Bowery and Burnley, mainly. He needn't check to know who’s house that was.

And that’s how he ended, on his very first night back on the streets, dragging Red Hood’s bleeding ass away from a blowing up building.

-----.-----

Apparently, saving a recently rehabilitated murderous vigilante was a bonding experience, because Jason didn’t kick him out of his side of town, nor tell on him. 

He couldn't, however, do anything to prevent the criminal gossip mile from spreading, and before a week had passed, half the city was aware of the new player on the board.

-----.------

Jason was taking a breather, smoking while sitting on his favorite rooftop, when the rustling sound of fabric told him his peace and quiet was over.

“I thought you were back at being N”, he greeted, not bothering to turn around or get up. 

“B was out of town, and Robin needed someone to watch over him during patrol.”

A quick glance around had Hood snorting, “Then y’re doing a shitty job. Don’t see the midget anywhere.”

It would never NOT be weird to hear a strangled laugh coming out of the Bat suit, as tight and humorless as it was now. It seemed big ol Dick wasn’t doing so great tonight.

“Batgirl took him to a party in Diamond District. Gang war.”

He humms in response, not bothering to keep on the smalltalk. N, no, B was here for something, and it wasn’t Jason’s job to ask it out of him; if it was important, he would do it himself.

“Where is him, Hood?”, he finally went to the heart of the matter. 

Jason tilted his head, still looking over his city, unmindful of the steps coming closer to his position, “Robin? Ya just said it, B. Going senile? Gang war, wasn’t it?”

“Don’t play around. You know I mean…”

Oh, yeah, Dickie still wasn’t sure what to call Timbo. Criminal gossip only went so far, for someone who didn’t bother to shout his hero name to everyone he beat up. It was very possible only  Jason was aware of his new monicker. All gothamites knew was a young vigilante showed up recently, wearing red and black and hanging out with the Hood, which immediately upped his street rep to ‘not to be fucked with’.

“Lil red?”, he completed for his older brother, feeling both charitable and petty. Batman’s wince was more evident by the rustling sound of his cape; he had hit a sore spot, hadn’t he? 

“Where? I’m not asking again.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not answering. Must be ‘roundere somewhere, the little creep.”

“Hood, I’m running out of patience.”

“And I’m out of cigarettes, your point? I don’t have him on a leash asshole. We just share the same hunting space, it’s not like we go home together and do face masks while we talk about feelings.”

They did go to a safespot, though, and share beer and pizza while cursing their relatives and Fate as a whole, but it wasn’t necessary information for the fucker. He just breathed in the last of his smoke before dropping the cigarette butt and stepping on it, stretching as he did.

“Now, any more of this riveting conversation, or can I go? No, wait, it was a rhetorical question; get out of my part of town, ass. I’ve been plenty generous by letting you come this far, but our truce lasts as long as the lot of you don’t build any sandcastles on my playground and you know it. Now, scram.”

He could feel Dick’s reticence at leaving without what he came here for, but Oracle must be talking him into letting it be for tonight, because he didn't push. Jason turned just in the right moment to catch the way Dick looked down to his gloved hand, as if expecting the lifeless red string to be pulled taunt in Tim’s direction by some miracle. Jason felt the smallest ping of pity, quickly washed away by the memory of the younger hero’s haunted eyes as he told Jason the story of his severed soul bond and how he came to do it.

Thirty seconds after the bat vanished into the night, a little red bird landed softly on the spot next to him.

“Thanks, Hood”, he muttered, just as tired and hurting as he’d been ever since he saved Jason’s ass and they became partners, but with the smallest hint of lightness that made him prouder of driving Dick away than he’d ever been.

“Don’t mention it, but fair warning, the big B scomin back home in a few days, and he’s harder to kick out than a hurting, annoying bluebird.”

“I know”, Tim sighed, well aware of both facts. “I’ll play it by ear. For tonight, what about bashing some skulls and ruining Two Face’s new op? Good intel says it’s just a few blocks from here, and shattering bones always makes you smile.”

“Babybird, you speak the language of love.”

“Wasn’t that french?”

“I’m trying to compliment you, don’t be a smart ass about it.”

“I am smart, and I do have a good ass. That seems like an impossible request.”

----.----

[magalidragon]

Hello! How about 14 in your recent "love in the eyes" universe? Have an amazing day!

Oooh a new universe! 🙌🏻 I tried to make this smutty but it turned out a bit sweet lol. I love these beans! 🥰 Moodboard to come!

14. “Later you will definitely need to tell me where you learned this.”

Love in a pandemic was interesting, to say the least. It was the whole "are you tested" but in a completely different way. Regardless, the answer was "yes" on both accounts, for the both of them, which was how Dany found herself spending the very limited amount of time she had off from twenty-hour shifts at a rural hospital dealing with massive outbreaks and super-spreader events in an area that already had limited healthcare to begin with, hanging out in her extended stay studio not resting up for the next shift, but eagerly awaiting a 'date' of takeout food on rotation of the only three local restaurants that had switched to takeout, and watching movies with one very attractive Westeros Military Captain, who also had limited amounts of time off.

They only had time off three times, where their schedules could align, and honestly she was so exhausted when she finished, she just wanted to sleep for hours. Jon was in the same boat, so-to-speak, until one afternoon her phone rang, after she had just discharged several elderly patients who had come off the tube, their tests negative, and excited to say that they had survived a pandemic, along with all the other chaos that went on Beyond the Wall.

So she was in a really good mood, answering excitedly. "Jon!"

"Do you have plans tonight?"

"Depends, what do you have in mind?" She caught sight of one of the Northern nurses, Kari, who rolled her eyes at her and smirked, knowing full well she was on the phone with 'The Handsome Crow', as the 'wildings' up North referred to Jon's regiment.

"I'm thinking of a place with no masks."

"Oooh, talk dirty to me," she teased.

He laughed. "I'll pick you up at your place. Leave hte dragon behind, aye?"

She mocked his accent back to him, gruff and rolling. "Aye, aye Captain!"

That had been hours ago. Shift ended, she rushed to the studio extended stay, showered, brushed her teeth, quickly shaved her legs, shimmied into the only matching pair of panties and bras she brought with her-- and the panties were also not her comfy cotton briefs she wore under her scrubs but the only truly 'sexy' pair-- a red bikini set-- even if the bra was also cotton and not lacy silk and satin. It would have to do, and honestly, she was probably reading too much into the sudden date that was different.

But no, she did not.

Because while dating in a pandemic was weird-- flirting without even seeing his face had been surreal-- it was still dating and some rules still continued to apply. Like the fact they'd been on three dates, had even fallen asleep on her bed together, but all he'd done was chastely kiss her goodnight when he woke up-- to her disappointment-- it was still three dates in, which meant naked time was now officially on the table.

And she had been itching to see his face that entire five hour flight to find out if the rest of it was as attractive as his soulful gray eyes, his messy curly hair, and the strong body she could see hiding not so much under his drab black fatigues. How right she had been and also how wrong. The moment he pulled off his mask, she felt every nerve ending light off like fireworks, his jaw chiseled, covered in dark scruff, and his lips full and pink, shyly smiling over a set of white teeth that were adorably crooked in the front. It all fit, every bit of him, and she hoped that she had been the same delightful surprise to him too.

Jon picked her up on time-- quite punctual, he was a military man after all-- drove her from the hotel on their first outing and even as she asked him where they were going ,he said it was a surprise and ended up taking her pretty far out to Hardhome, where he surprised her with a dinner at a dockside restaurant, just the two of them, a favor that his friend Tormund had called in for him.

It was wonderful to actually eat out for once, like a proper human being, and then he surprised her further by indicating that maybe if she were so inclined... "Would you...do you want to go back...I got a hotel room," he blurted out.

"You mean not the dingy studio with the brick mattress and scratchy sheets and comforter of unknown origins?" she demanded.

"Um...it's an inn...supposed to be nice."

She'd kissed him immediately, sighing. "Take me there Jon Snow, I beg of you."

They'd sped through the mostly deserted town to the inn, barely got within the door of what she quickly surmised was a quaint log-cabin decor style with flannel sheets and a roaring fireplace, and...yowza.

Their first kiss had been sweet, on their second "date", when he left her to return back to the makeshift barracks he had been staying in near the hospital. They had been nervous about it, shifting on feet as she didn't want him to go quite yet, but he had a curfew. "Need to set an example, I'm the boss," he sighed, clearly annoyed by it.

"Well alright then...talk to you tomorrow?" She asked him hopefully, and he nodded, and then smiled, shifting and moving in towards her, and she grinned, accepting his kiss gently. It had been tentative, both of them a little nervous, and sure-- they were both anticipating getting sick most likely, since they were in and around everyone with the virus-- except she figured she would risk it.

It had begun soft, lips gentle, rather close mouthed. Then it became something else, his hand cupping her head and she grabbed at his shirt, opening her mouth under his, moaning when his tongue prodded for entry and she gave willingly, tasting the beer they’d had and his mint toothpaste and the barest hint of synthetic nicotine. She needed him, groaning and grappling as he stroked his hands over her face. So hot, she thought, not realizing how that felt until he was holding her upright by just her jaw.

Wanting nothing more to invite him back in, she reluctantly had said goodbye, her lips tingling, and his smile dopey when they parted. She waved, watched him leave, and counted down the seconds like a silly schoolgirl with her first crush until she could see him again.

And when she did, they'd kissed some more, like those dumb schoolkids they'd become, barely paying attention to the movie that had been playing, or their dinners growing cold on the table, but it hadn't gone beyond that; they were both exhausted, and to be honest, she wanted to wash her hair and maybe look a litlt enicer than the old college t-shirt and pink flannel pants she had on.

So now, well, now....sigh.

"Later you will definitely need to tell me where you learned that," she panted, staring up at the ceiling, catching her breath, her body shivering from aftershocks. She pressed her palm to her forehead, not at all surprised to find that she wasn't just hot because of her dragonblood, but because she was freaking sweating, like she'd run a marathon.

Beside her, he was in the same pose, laughter rumbling from his chest. "Do you really want to know?"

Since that might mean bringing up the other women who had been on the opposite end of those sinful lips, she shook her head, laughing as well. "Oh fuck no, but gods Jon Snow, who knew you had that talented set of lips underneath your mask? If I'd have known, I'd have jumped you on the plane."

A sly smile pulled over his teeth, those same pouty, now kiss-stung lips flushed from his exertions. "If I recall you did sort of proposition me?"

A tiny blush formed on her cheekbones, not that he noticed, as flushed as she already was. She turned on her side, propping her head on her hand, her other dancing over his smooth chest, where he grabbed it and brought her knuckles to his lips to kiss, their fingers threading together. "Well, I had to test a theory. I am a woman of science."

"What theory?"

"That you were into me." She lowered her lips to brush over his, grinning. It was his eyes; Doreah always told her that love came in the eyes. His had fallen more than once from hers to...other areas. Plus there was the pupil dilation, the intensity there, and the bit of sadness on the edges. It made her desperate to know more. "And turns out, you were."

He smirked, brushing his mouth over hers again, murmuring, "Hard to tell, those pesky masks."

"We figured it out." She settled her head in the crook of his shoulder, his arm draping over hers, knuckles idly running on her upper arm. She closed her eyes, savoring. It had been awhile, she was tingling and sore. It felt wonderful. The good exhaustion that she knew would lead to a good sleep.

Not that she wanted to sleep just yet.

Her finger pulled out of his grasp, tracing his mouth, whispering. "When do you have to be back at the barracks, Jon Snow?"

"Hmm....weekend pass, would you believe it?"

"Coincidentally, I have a day off."

"Whatever shall we do?"

She giggled, nuzzling her nose to his, whispering. "I have a few ideas. Most of which involve that mouth."

He snapped his teeth, wolfish, and pressed his palm to her cheek, pushing to cup her head, her braids tangling around his fingers. She kissed him, smiling so wide their teeth clacked, and devolved her into more giggles, as silly as that schoolgirl he made her feel like she happened to be. It was the happiest she'd been in a long time, that was for sure. He snorted, laughing when she blew a raspberry to his mouth instead of kissing him, and devolved into his own laughter, which she got the impression was quite a rarity with him.

They tusseled a bit, both trying to one-up the other, laughing and giggling, and soon her legs and arms were flying up, brain losing all control over herself as he tickled her and blew raspberries to her belly and chest. "Jon!" she squealed, pushing weakly on his arms. He had her pinned to the bed, and was merciless.

"Never," he replied, in response to her demands for him to stop, and she didn't fight him, both of them kissing again, and this time it wasn't so funny, the kisses becoming deeper, intense. He broke away from her lips and trailed off, her neck arching on the pillow, sighing, and hands falling into his riotous curls again.

She hummed, approving, and shook her head slightly. "Jon?"

"Hmm?"

He tilted his head up to peer at her, eyes black as coal. She traced her finger along his hairline, smiling gently. They'd known each other two weeks, but she was quite certain of how she felt. She nibbled her bottom lip, whispering. "This probably...probably isn't the right time but..." She took a deep breath; just say it Dany. Worst comes to worst, he runs away, and then what? Means it wasn't meant to be. She never took this type of leap, gun shy from previously failed relationships. She closed her eyes, about to speak, when his thumb pressed on her chin, tilting her face to his.

Eyes flickering, she saw he had risen up to lay beside her, intensely focused, and was guiding her face to his, thumb stroking her jaw. "What?" he whispered.

Love comes in the eyes, she thought, and whispered, "I think I love you."

There, she said it. Maybe it was the hormones, the heightened emotions of the time, the idea that tomorrow could be her last, for all she knew. They were working so hard and that was usually all she had, but now there was something bigger.

And to her surprise, he smiled, eyes crinkling, and it was the same look he gave her on the plane, when she first wondered who this cute guy happened to be, and what was his story. He whispered, in return, "I think I love you too."

Dany giggled, accepting his kiss, entwining her arms around his neck, and made a mental note to tell her brothers that the North might not be so bad after all.

Smutty One Liners

[deerydear]

Oh, lol...

I was saying that I think it's kind of dumb to try to alienate other women on the basis of their traits.

If someone says they relate to you, that's something of value.

I don't think every lesbian ever is going to relate to your own experience, just based on probability. Experiences like this are based on the surrounding culture, not on the individual. It says more about the culture than it does about you.

Thus, when another woman has a similar experience in the culture, why alienate her?

Because she labels herself differently?

Bisexual instead of lesbian?

What if all the shit you've fought off hasn't been because of the plain fact of lesbianism? -- what if it's because the people trying to fight you are fucking retarded?

I believe in the future, and I believe in a culture where people are reasonable and mindful. So I don't pin the opinions of ignoramuses upon "lesbianism", to say this is an inherently lesbian struggle. There would be nothing to struggle against if you were among people with respectful attitudes.

Just like I don't think "facing misogyny" is "inherently female". If the culture changed, then no woman would have to deal with life the way that I did.

I can imagine a life for women -- without misogyny.

I can imagine a life for lesbians, without homophobia.

What the original author here wrote is actually very emblematic of how many, many women feel. Even heterosexual women.. yes.

There's a lot of kids who don't want to conform to the expectations put on them. They grow and change past it..

I think that trying to divide the world up into words ultimately backfires on the person doing it. The world existed before words. You've got to recognize when the word isn't sufficient to describe what's going on.

Sometimes we gotta think bigger, have more empathy for more people, instead of trying to hoard all the empathy for ourselves and "our chosen people". It's not a productive or healthy way to try to live. I know, because I've experimented with it.

In the end, that thought process only makes you feel even more miserable and persecuted. You will feel silly if you were the one playing into it, but at the same time it teaches a responsibility towards your worldview. You're responsible for how you look at the world. There are things on your mind that you have control of, and no one else can force you to change if you don't consent. Your attitude is a testament to your unique inner-self. Two people can go through the same experience, and they may foster two different attitudes about the whole thing. Their inner experiences can be totally different. It's free will, man!

Think however makes you happy, deep inside. Learn to differentiate between a drug-high and true happiness. Because there are some emotions that are like temporary drug-highs. If you follow them, you'll only have to seek further and further extremes in order to get the original 'high' back.

One of these is the revenge emotion.

I think it's also pertinent to recognize when your local culture has it wrong, too. (your friends, your 'subculture', your counterculture) They might be making errors in their assumptions, or choosing to follow an arbitrary thread for how they live their lives. It's all up to you. You choose who you want to hang around. You have control over that, too.

Even if external circumstances come against you, you have control in your mind... and if you hold strong, that control will hold strong past any adversary.

I've noticed how much that some people may feel a need to be 'right', to be 'vindicated', justified.... These are also drug-highs, if unchecked. Sometimes, you may have become interested in people, because they say "we have all the right opinions", but often it's more subtle than that. They may be always finding something to fight against. Something where they can be 'right'.

This impulse can be harnessed in a good way, if tempered correctly.

Is it for Vanity, or to truly make a positive difference in the world that benefits all people in an innocent manner?

I wonder if every person has an angel and a devil on their shoulder...

I've always deeply felt lesbian loneliness but it was never about finding a date, it was about finding a place in the world for me when the world is built for men, built around heterosexuality, built around conforming to arbitrary roles that ultimately mold kids into "future housewife" or "full person with a live in mommy and maid (the wife)". Loneliness is not necessarily about having a relationship, but to be allowed into the world.

[yslkook]

#customer centric (4)

#corporate masterlist summary: you arrive in tokyo and spend a few days catching up and reminiscing. jin comes as well, with a few old friends that you haven’t seen in years. Or, you wander around the city visiting familiar places and go to a club with people you haven’t called friends in years. word count: 8656 warnings: cursing, parental death, discussion of mental health, lots of alcohol a/n: this is part 1/2 of being in tokyo!! this is the top i envisioned for oc lol

You missed Tokyo, and Tokyo missed you. The city itself brings bittersweet memories to you, memories of your childhood with your dead father and grandmother passing through your mind as if you’re watching a movie.

Your dad had brought you to Tokyo every summer when you were young, until you were about seventeen or eighteen. Tokyo had become more of a second home than a vacation place for you.  You haven’t been here since college, about two years before your dad passed away. But despite that, it feels like home.

You can read, write, and speak Japanese fluently, which is part of the reason why you’ve been such an integral part of the team so far. The company’s sister branch is in Tokyo, and it’s not your first time visiting the branch, or interacting with your team members based in Tokyo.

You’ve wondered often, quite bitterly, if your fluency in Japanese is the only reason you’re even still on the team. Your boss and his boss at least trust you enough to be the responsible party for your team- there’s only one other member of your team here, Sana. But she’s relatively new, so the responsibility has fallen onto you.

That’s alright. You operate well under pressure.

You’re joined by your small knit team, Sana, Namjoon and Jungkook. Namjoon had managed to finagle with the budget enough that you could arrive a day early, on Friday, and spend the weekend in Tokyo before the workshops began on Monday.

And Seokjin would be flying in on Saturday morning with some of his friends. You’re grateful that at least Jin was coming. Whenever Jin makes these spontaneous types of trips, they’re bound to be eventful. 

Monday and Tuesday will be filled with workshops, proposals and pitch meetings. You made Jin promise that he’d spend time with you during the weekend, so that you could show him some of the treasures you remembered from the city. Despite your many years of friendship, you had never been to Tokyo with Jin and you want to show him some of the places Appa used to take you to.

You’re excited. Even if Jungkook, with his big, sparkling eyes and his natural curiosity is coming along. Seeing him, even though it’s been well over three months that he joined the company, sends you down a dangerous path that isn’t fair to him or to you.

You have to constantly remind yourself that it’s not his fault and you shouldn’t be mean to him. It’s not his fault that your boss and his boss are out for your blood and refuse to give you recognition. But you can’t help but feel like he’s part of the problem that has faced you for the last three years. Part of the same awful old school, conservative mindset that so many of your peers were part of as well.

The leadership at your company needed a drastic overhaul, but you would be the last person to voice those thoughts out loud. Unless it was to Jin. 

You know Jungkook doesn’t deserve your unspoken rage. You can admit that, but you’re not saint enough to channel it somewhere else. You’ve mellowed out considerably from the initial few months, but you could stand to be a little warmer to him.

After all, the way his bunny smile takes up half of his face when he offers it up to someone so worthy… that means nothing to you.

You arrive in Tokyo with your team at around eleven AM, and you check into your hotel rooms about an hour later. Jungkook and Sana had planned the logistics of the trip, from the hotel to the taxi service to lunch, dinner, and the company sponsored happy hour on Monday and Tuesday. 

Because you were in Tokyo for work, you fully planned on using your company card to the fullest for the next few days. This company could kiss your ass, and you would be more than willing to spend as much as you needed to as a subtle ‘fuck you’. It was your version of flipping off your boss, for when he would have to approve your expense report sheet. 

Namjoon had given you Friday to yourselves, to get acquainted with the hotel room and the area itself. Sana and Jungkook had done a good job with choosing the hotel- it has a wonderful view of the city from the rooftop, and being inside the sophisticated hotel with it’s hues of black and white and pops of color and elegance. This regal building screams opulence and you’re bathing in the luxurious feel of it all.

The diamonds of the chandeliers hanging high above you glint in the dim light of the lobby, bouncing off of the sleek, black piano and adding to the romantic air. Was this a love hotel? You scoff to yourself, keeping your head down as you exit the hotel and head in the direction of your favorite park, the Happo-en Garden. 

When you had told your therapist that you’d be coming to Tokyo for the first time since your father’s death, she had immediately picked up on your hesitation-

“It feels weird to be there without him. Almost like the place doesn’t exist if he doesn’t,” You scoff, wringing your hands together.

“It certainly exists without him. And you do, too,” She says kindly, “Maybe you’ll feel close to him when you go there.”

And she was right, as she usually is. You sit alone at a freshly painted red bench with a box of street snacks, including some of Appa’s favorites. The sunshine glimmers against the still lake in front of you, hues of green fading to orange and red reflecting in the murky water. 

This park was a favorite of Appa’s-

“We’re still in Tokyo, but it feels like we’re so far away. Right, sweetheart?” He asks, dark eyes shining. Appa’s hand tightens around yours and you nod excitedly.

“Yeah! Like we’re close to the princess’s castle!” You gasp.

“That’s right, but the only princess I see here is you,” Appa smiles and you beam at him, all smiles and sunshine.

The memory is from when you were maybe seven or eight years old. Everytime you came to Tokyo with Appa, you always came to this park. Specifically to this area, where Appa claimed that the sun shined on the leaves and the water in a specific way that made everything feel like magic.

You had always scoffed at him, especially as you grew older and the lines around his eyes grew deeper. But you still entertained him. You never saw that magic that Appa claimed to see, but now, you wonder how you could ever not see it.

A breeze ruffles through the trees, whistling as it threads through your hair and running over the water. The clouds part for a moment, allows a burst of sunbeams to spread over the water and you gasp at the sudden golden filter over the surroundings in front of you.

Another breeze, one from your left side, presses against your shoulder and your cheek. Almost like it’s whispering to you. You whip your head to the side, only to find nothing next to you. You feel like you’re floating, with the gentle caress of the wind to keep you company.

You eat your snacks in silence, embracing the way that it feels like the wind is Appa’s caress against your skin.

By the time you return to the hotel, the sun is beginning to go down and a bittersweet sort of happiness settles in your heart. You feel closer to your dad than you have in a long time- this city was bound to feel like home with its welcoming arms curling around you warmly. You had spent the better part of the day visiting old sights and places that you had frequented to with Appa. 

It was peaceful, like a walk down memory lane. You could almost see your younger self bursting at the seams with joy at all of the new places. You could almost see her so eager to learn and demanding that Appa teach you Japanese immediately.

You wonder where that girl went. She’s lost, buried beneath layers and layers and maybe someday you’ll find her again.

Stopping by one of your favorite restaurants, you order all of your favorites times three. For your colleagues to have something to feast on when you returned from your day trip. You hadn’t been on your phone for most of the day, choosing to mute the group chat with your colleagues so you could truly be alone. 

Once you approach the familiar blue neon sign of the restaurant, you send them a text:

you: evening all. dont worry about dinner, Im bringing lots of food back sana: look who woke up from her coma namjoon: did you put it on your card? you: of course i did. you dont have to remind me joon ;)  you: want to have dinner together? jungkook: ya where should we eat Namjoon: come to my room, it’s room 1804 you: ok, be there in about thirty min

With your heart feeling full, brimming with fondness for your teammates, you pay for the heavy bags of food and make your way back to the hotel. You can’t help but smile as you walk with a little pep in your step.

“You should have asked one of us to help you,” Jungkook says reproachfully, taking half the bags from you.

Your arms ache, not that you’ll admit your stubbornness. You only smile sheepishly, “It was only a fifteen minute walk.”

“And this is a lot of food,” Jungkook muses, peeking inside as his doe eyes sparkle in anticipation.

“It’s our first team dinner in Tokyo. We deserve it,” You shrug.

“I also bought a few bottles of wine,” Sana chirps, dangling two bottles of red in her hands, “We deserve it.”

You laugh and she winks at you. Namjoon is already setting up the many boxes of food on the mahogany wooden desk in the corner of the room. The curtains are pulled back, affording you of a breathtaking view of the city lights and the now hanging moon high in the sky.

“The boss has the best view, huh?” You tease, nudging his shoulder.

“Jungkook picked it,” Namjoon shrugs, “I just wanted to share the view with you all.”

“How sweet of you,” You say sincerely, “Dinner with a view. That’s pretty romantic. And Jungkook has good taste.”

Jungkook’s ears flush at your praise and he covers his ears for a second. Not that you notice. You sit on the floor, across from Jungkook and offer to scoop food onto everyone’s plates for them. You ignore their protests and do it anyway, quietly asking how much of each they want. Sana fills up plastic cups with wine and labels everyone’s cup with a black marker so you can all keep track of them.

“How classy of us,” Namjoon snorts but says thank you to Sana.

“Did you bring wine glasses in your luggage?” Sana shoots at Namjoon, “I didn’t think so.”

You stifle your laugh behind your hand and shake your head. “Feels like college, if only those cups were red,” You joke.

“My roommate still uses red cups sometimes, for casual purposes,” Jungkook says softly, “It drives me up the wall. Like, can you drink out of a normal cup or what? I get flashbacks to beer pong almost every morning.”

You laugh a little harder at that, and the sound is sweet in Jungkook’s ears. He wants to see if he can get you to laugh like that a little more.

“I mean, we’re grown now. I can’t believe Taehyung sometimes, having his morning orange juice in a red solo cup. It’s heinous.”

Your eyes are overflowing with mirth, the sound of your genuine happiness echoing in Jungkook’s ears and he can’t help but smile in return.

“Morning orange juice,” You mutter, “That’s adorable. Taehyung? That’s the name of your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook replies, “We did undergrad together and he’s an aspiring art gallery curator. He’s actually coming here tomorrow-”

“Wait, hang on,” You say after chewing through a mouthful of noodles, “Is this Taehyung, as in Kim Taehyung who you snuck into that bar with and he ended up getting absolutely hammered and stealing three bottles of alcohol? Before getting kicked out and Jin and I took you both home? That Taehyung?”

The fondness with which you speak of Taehyung unnerves Jungkook. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods, “That Taehyung.”

“Sounds like a real class act,” Sana says dryly.

“Wow, I haven’t seen him in years,” You exhale, “I think Jin’s bringing some friends from college tomorrow, too.”

“Yeah, he mentioned a Jimin and a Hoseok,” Namjoon adds.

“Damn, Sana, maybe we should’ve brought our friends, too,” You murmur, teasing but honestly, you don’t really have anyone you would’ve asked to bring, “Can’t wait to see what this boys weekend brings.”

You fully anticipate that Seokjin will rope you into whatever shenanigans they have planned, and you don’t even feel bad about crashing. You make a mental note to let Sana know of whatever plans they invited you to, so that she wouldn’t feel left out.

They don’t ask where you were all day, and for that you’re grateful. The lines of professionalism are beginning to blur for you, and you don’t want to burden them with your feelings and problems. You don’t want them to think differently of you for trying to catch a glimpse of Appa in your memories. 

Jin would say you were being silly, but you can’t help it. Maybe someday, but not today.

But Jungkook does wonder. Where were you all day? When the group chat was going off, you were silent. It was none of his business, but he’s curious. And he’s curious about you. You hadn’t changed out of your day clothes or taken your makeup off. He can see the nearly gone darkened stain of your gloss on your lips and the curl of your lashes. Jungkook keeps his eyes above your neck, knowing that if his eyes begin to wander he would be even more of a goner than he already was.

It’s September in Tokyo, meaning that it was warm during the day and somewhat chilly in the evenings. Your dark green long sleeved shirt is tucked into your shorts, complete with a black belt, leaving your tanned thighs on display. Jungkook thinks he catches a glimpse of a tattoo peeking from your shorts, but he thinks he imagines it. 

Until your shorts ride up just a little and he sees an array of colors and the fleeting sight of a flower on your upper thigh. Jungkook swallows nervously and stuffs his face full of udon noodles without hesitation. If his mouth is stuffed with food, then nobody will look twice at him and he can keep his thoughts to himself and ogle at you in peace. 

The logic makes sense in his head.

Your voice carries over to Namjoon, telling him that you’ll be picking Seokjin, Jimin and Hoseok up in the morning with the rental car.

“Hey, if Taehyung is arriving at the same time, do you want me to pick him up?” You ask, turning your gaze to Jungkook.

“Huh?” Jungkook asks. You roll your eyes.

“Taehyung. If he arrives at the same time as Jin, Jimin and Hoseok, do you want me to pick him up?”

“Er,” Jungkook says eloquently, “He’s actually been here for the last week. Thanks, though.”

You want to say that Jin would cause a scene and whine at you if you didn’t pick him up from the airport, the prince that he is. But you keep it to yourself- after all, he’s somewhat of a boss to Jungkook and Sana. 

You nod in understanding and shove more noodles and meat into your mouth. You stretch your legs out in front of you and Jungkook doesn’t look away, instead allowing his eyes to rake over you shamelessly. Nevermind that Namjoon and Sana are right next to him, probably wondering why he’s staring you down so intensely.

The four of you spend the rest of the evening discussing your plans for the weekend, avoiding the topic of work altogether. It’s nice, you can almost believe that you’re all just four friends making a weekend getaway without the confines of work looming over your heads.

Namjoon offers to split the remaining food amongst the four of you and puts equal amounts of everything into each container for all of you to take back to your rooms.

And then Sana pours more wine for each of you and you feel yourself beginning to get more and more relaxed with each sip you take. You want to open your stitched together lips, tell them how it’s been so long since you’ve had alcohol with anyone who wasn’t Jin. You want to tell them that you like red wine more than white wine, but nothing beats soju-

“What’s your favorite kind of wine,” Jungkook asks. He comes to sit next to you on the floor, stretching his legs out. His shoulder brushes against yours and you feel something like electricity at the soft touch.

“Um… I like reds over white wine. But I haven’t had that many reds to say which kind is my favorite,” You muse.

“Guess we’ll have to try some more red wine, huh?” Jungkook says, his eyes sparkling and bunny smile on display. 

Your heart warms and sputters at the same time.

“Yeah,” You nod breathlessly, “What about you? What do you like?”

“I’m not picky. I don’t really like cabernet,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, “Too bitter for me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” You giggle, unable to believe that such a noise is coming out of your mouth. Despite Sana and Namjoon having their own conversation on the other side of the room, it feels like it’s just you and Jungkook for a minute in your own bubble.

“I like a good chardonnay, too. Nice ‘n crisp.”

“Me too, I love that crisp taste of a good white wine,” You reply, unable to keep your eyes off of him for longer than a second. His cheeks and the tips of his ears are a pretty pink and you wonder if his cheeks are as warm as yours are.

“Thought you didn’t like white wine?” Jungkook murmurs, head tilting inquisitively. 

“I prefer red, but if there’s white wine in front of me, I mean,” You shrug, “It’s not like ‘m gonna say no.”

“Oh? We’ll have to test that out, too,” Jungkook smiles, “I like soju the best. Nothin’ beats soju.”

“Yeah, peach and green grape,” You say knowingly, “The only flavors with rights.”

“Exactly. You get me,” Jungkook nods with wide eyes. He asks you about Tokyo, if you come here often. You answer him somewhat vaguely, but tell him that you grew up reading, writing and speaking Japanese. He looks impressed by that and the fondness in the lines of his lips startles you.

You chalk it up to the romance of this city making you soft and pliant to his doe eyes and the warmth of his smile. He’s so easy to get lost in- you find yourself leaning closer to him to hear what he has to say about his own travel dreams. He wants to go to New York City and Bangkok and Athens- the way his eyes light up constricts around your heart.

Every part of him radiates warmth and you want to be draped by it. He says something that makes you smile and laugh, and you swat at his shoulder reflexively. Jungkook only looks at you in that way. The way that makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world. He’s good at that.

He has hearts and stars in his eyes for you and it makes you choke.

Maybe you had imagined it all because you remember where you are. You’re in your boss’s hotel room and he’s standing right there. Jungkook sees the spark in your eyes disappear immediately and you pull away just as quickly, as if the moment had never happened.

He won’t deny the sting, but you’re so easy to get lost in. The fog in his mind clears, and while it’s only been a few minutes that you’ve been alone. It feels like much longer. But Namjoon and Sana are still deep in conversation, his dimples on display and her smile bright.

You pull away but your dark eyes are still wide and focused on him, stars swirling in your irises and Jungkook thinks he might fall into this wonderfully brown abyss held in your pretty face. Finally, you move away from him on the floor, almost immediately missing his warmth. You look back at him as you move to get some water, the same curious look on your face.

Your face is burning, and you’re surprised you’re able to keep this cool for this long. The urge to bolt from Namjoon’s hotel room and back to your own is one that you have to fight. But instead, you stay planted where you are. Jungkook confuses you, you hardly even know him and you had let him get so close to you. It’s not something you usually do, but what unnerves you is how nice it felt. The closeness of him, his eyes on you and only you. Are you bothered by it? 

No, you realize. No. You quite liked it. You’re supposed to hate him- he represents everything you hate. A young kid, a boy, raising quickly through the ranks of your corporate world, while you grasp at straws. 

Does he? Does he represent everything you hate? What a load of bullshit.

You swallow again. You need to leave.

“Hey, Joon,” You say softly, touching his elbow, “I’m going to head out. It’s getting late and I’ve gotta head out early tomorrow.”

Jungkook’s heart drops. He’d made you so uncomfortable that you were abruptly cutting your night short. Because of him. He needs to make this right.

“I’ll walk with you,” The words tumble out of Jungkook’s mouth before he can stop them. His heart is pounding in his ears- he needs to apologize before you hate him even more.

“Okay,” You reply with a smile, “Here are your leftovers.”

“I’ll walk with you both,” Sana says, taking her bag.

With that, you say your goodbyes and leave Namjoon’s room to the elevators. Your head feels like static, a wave of thoughts congealing into something impenetrable. The doors ding shut, all three of you standing on opposite ends of the elevator. You can’t look at Jungkook, you can’t see his doe eyes. Not right now.

Sana calls your name, “Thanks for the food.”

“No problem, Sana,” You murmur, “See you tomorrow.”

And then it’s just you and Jungkook in the elevator. 

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says immediately, “I made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry. If you don’t wanna talk to me outside of work, I get it-”

“What?” You ask, finally looking at him. You take a step forward, close enough to him that you’re in his orbit. “You didn’t… You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Jungkook. I would have told you if you did. You just… confuse me.”

The last bit comes out as a vulnerable whisper and all Jungkook can do is nod. 

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” You say clearly, casting him a look over your shoulder as you exit the elevator. Your eyes are guarded once more, as if the night hadn’t happened. As if he hadn’t fallen for you even further. You wash him away from your bloodstream quickly and Jungkook feels his heart aching once more.

By the time you pick up Jin, Jimin, and Hoseok from the airport and arrive at the hotel, it’s nearly noon. The car ride back was fun, dare you say it. It amazed you how Jin still remained close in contact with people you went to college with. It felt natural, talking to Jimin and Hoseok. As if years hadn’t gone by.

They were hot, and that was your first assessment when you had met them at the airport. Jimin and Hoseok had both embraced you in tight hugs, without any regard for whether you wanted one or not. You found that you didn’t really mind.

You didn’t know how you were going to survive this weekend surrounded by these many attractive people. 

“We should celebrate. For this reunion,” Hoseok says.

“Jungkook is here, too,” You reply, “A great big university reunion right here in Tokyo, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. I keep forgetting you guys work together now,” Jimin says.

“Wait, you guys are friends still?” You ask.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Jimin says, genuine confusion in the handsome planes of his face.

You suppose everyone else is better at making and maintaining friendships than you are. It stings a little, having so many people from university in the same place. In the city that already holds so many memories for you. But you’ll embrace it, because that’s what you’ve been working on. Embracing change.

And of course, what was a boys weekend without a night out at the club? Jin had all but demanded that you come, in true dramatic fashion- I can’t go out without you, you know. I can’t believe you’re considering leaving me like this. I’ll die there without you.

It didn’t take much from you to roll your eyes but agree and tell him that you were inviting Sana.

“Go pregame and get ready with your boys,” You had urged him, “It’s so rare you all are together like this. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Are you sure?” Jin asked with uncertainty and you had only smiled warmly at him. 

“Yes, Seokjin. I’m sure. I’ll be crashing the party soon, don’t worry,” You reassured him and he left your hotel room. He promised to text you when to come and you just nodded, shooing him away.

That had been nearly two hours ago, and you’re putting the finishing touches on your makeup with Sana getting ready in the bathroom. Music is playing through your phone and once you’re done with your lip gloss, you make drinks and prepare shots for you and Sana.

“You’ve gotta tell me how you’re friends with so many hot men,” Sana says, taking a seat on the bed.

You scoff, “I’m really only friends with Jin. The rest of them come with Jin, we’re hardly friends.”

“Oh?” Sana asks with a skeptical raise of her eyebrow, “You all went to school together, right?”

“Yeah… Something like that,” You say lightly, “Jin kept in touch with all of them. I didn’t.”

You leave it at that and Sana knows not to press further.

“They’re all nice guys. I always had fun with them,” You say fondly, “You will, too.”

“Cheers to that,” Sana grins, “We look hot. Let’s take a picture.”

“Should we send it to our boss,” You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, that would send him off the deep end. He’d be here in five seconds, dragging us out by our ears,” Sana rolls her eyes as well with a laugh.

You try your best to make Sana feel as comfortable as she can with you. At least so that she’s comfortable when you go meet up with the guys later. You know it can be intimidating being around people who are so close, but they’ve always been welcoming.

It begs the question- why did you let them all go?

You don’t have time to unpack all of that. By the time Jin texts you, telling you to come to his suite on the eighteenth floor, you and Sana are three drinks and two shots in.

You’ve drank more in the last two days than you have in the last year alone. At least that’s what it feels like. 

You make sure to take your hotel card, phone and wallet and ensure that Sana does as well. Giggles erupt from the both of you when you enter the elevator, and excitement thrums in your veins. The liquid courage bouncing around in your veins makes you feel relaxed and you tug Sana’s hand out of the elevator once the steel doors open.

You text Jin from outside his door, you can already hear the loud peals of laughter and the beat of music through the walls. You wonder if they’ve gotten any noise complaints yet, but probably not- his room is the only one on this side of the hotel. He probably did this on purpose.

When he doesn’t answer your text, you decide to knock obnoxiously and Sana giggles at your impatience. On your fifth knock, the door swings open and you see Jin’s tipsy face complete with reddened cheeks and his broad smile. 

He hugs you like he hasn’t seen you in years, he even lifts you off of the ground a little bit. Your heart flutters with affection for him as you whine for him to put you down.

“Jin!” You shriek, “At least go inside, dummy- stop embarrassing me-”

He finally puts you down and holds you by the shoulders to take you in. His eyes are sharp and he says nothing as he assesses your outfit, apparently deeming you as acceptable as he waves you inside. He says hello to Sana, who returns his mellowed out hug graciously.

Jin hands you both full cups, and you trust Jin enough to know it’s a yummy but strong drink. You grip your cup tighter and allow Sana to go in front of you. The last thing you want is for her to feel left out, so you want the guys to be introduced to her first.

Besides, they all already knew you.

Jin does the introductions quickly, the guys all warming up to Sana and bringing her in for hugs as well. Her cheeks are flushed, and you knew she’d feel flustered. They’re intense in their friendliness and it would make anyone feel flustered and warm.

And then their eyes land on you and you wish you could melt into the floor. Six pairs of eyes stare back at you- apparently Yoongi had also decided to come as well. 

College reunion indeed.

You stay close to Jin, offering them a weak wave of your fingers and a smile. 

“Hello boys,” You say dramatically,  “Long time no see.”

“Jin’s been hiding you all to himself, hasn’t he?” Jimin says, not bothering to hide the way he’s looking at you. And you don’t mind, not really- you know you look good.

“I just saw you this morning. When I picked your sorry ass up from the airport,” You reply and Jimin pouts at you as everyone around you laughs at his expense. 

“Still so mean,” Jimin murmurs and you roll your eyes.

And with that, alcohol continues to flow as the chatter continues on.

You cast another glance to Sana, making sure she’s not by herself. You relax when you see her talking to Yoongi and Hoseok, smiling to yourself at how quickly she takes to them.

“Hey pretty,” Jimin says, seeing you near the alcohol and joining you.

“Hey you,” You parrot back and he smiles at you in that sweet, disarming way, “Want a drink?”

“You always made the best drinks,” Jimin says, handing his cup over to you. You ignore the way your chest tightens at his use of past tense.

“Maybe you just never knew how to make drinks,” You murmur, “Probably still don’t, huh?”

Jimin laughs lightly at that as a silence falls between you both. “You look good,” Jimin exhales, “You doin’ alright?”

You never know what to say to that. “Yeah. You look good, Jimin. You doin’ alright?” 

“Yeah. I’m still in Seoul at the dance school. Don’t be such a stranger,” Jimin murmurs and before you can protest, he pokes your forehead affectionately. 

“You’ll ruin my makeup,” You complain but give him a small smile, “Jimin. ‘M glad to see you. All of you.”

Jimin looks like he wants to say something more. But he bites his tongue. This isn’t the place to pick a petty fight, so he lets it go. Jungkook approaches you both, resting his arm on Jimin’s shoulder. Jimin groans dramatically and Jungkook only offers him a smile and a giggle.

“Cup’s empty,” Jungkook says, wiggling his cup to both of you, “Stop hoggin’ the alcohol.”

“Blame Jimin. Everything’s his fault,” You tease and Jimin rolls his eyes at you both.

“It is, isn’t it?” Jungkook grins and Jimin slips out from under Jungkook with another roll of his eyes. “Hey, you met Taehyung yet? My roommate? You ‘member him?”

His eyes are slick with alcohol, and yet they still sparkle at you like you hold all of the answers to the universe in them. He has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the world. It unnerves you, like many things about him do.

“No, where is he?”

Jungkook shouts for Taehyung to join him and you wince. All of a sudden his sandy haired roommate pops up from the direction of the living area and joins you at the drinks table. He looks a far cry from the boy you had driven home that night many years ago.

You knew being in the presence of so many attractive people was going to kill all of your brain cells by the end of the night.

Taehyung calls your name and nerves seize you inexplicably. 

“You remember me?” The words escape your lips before your brain has a chance to stop them.

“Course I do? The pretty girl who saved Kook and I at that one bar that I’m still banned from?” Taehyung grins, his eyes sweet and sincere.

“Jin was with me too, don’t forget him,” You say dryly, “Nice to see you again after all this time. And you’re Jungkook’s roommate?”

“Unfortunately,” Jungkook chimes in, earning him a laugh from you.

Taehyung is magnetic when he speaks to you, honey dripping from his tongue as he tells you about his journey as an aspiring art museum curator. Passion lights up his dark irises, his smile matching the intensity of it and you’re certain he has this effect on everyone he speaks to. They’re both so close to you, in your bubble and the scent of their cologne wafts into your nose. 

You drink more. You don’t know how to cope with all of this. So you drink.

Jungkook tells you that they’ve been roommates all through graduate school and they had recently moved into a new, bigger place. Now that they were both making a little more money. You find yourself benignly jealous of the life they live- two close friends living together and living for these kinds of nights with their other close friends. The bond they built and strengthened over the years is obvious in the way Taehyung holds Jungkook close, the way Hoseok lights up the entire room and makes everyone smile just because he’s smiling, the way Yoongi and Jimin bicker like an old married couple… Namjoon has already slotted himself within the group. Jin probably introduced him to them a while back, you realize.

Jungkook excuses himself to use the bathroom, leaving his cup next to Taehyung on the table. Taehyung’s gaze makes you nervous- the shift in his eyes is apparent as he lazily rakes his eyes over you.

“Kook told me he was workin’ with you again,” Taehyung murmurs, “What he didn’t tell me was how pretty you are.”

“What a line,” You say flatly and roll your eyes. To your surprise, he laughs, his smile making you smile as well.

“Just bein’ honest,” Taehyung shrugs, “‘Snot everyday you see our hot grad school girl after five years.”

“You’re full of it,” You roll your eyes, shoving his shoulder playfully, “‘Our?’”

“Jungkook was-” Taehyung starts but he’s interrupted by the man himself. Jungkook was what?

“You talkin’ about me?” Jungkook says, elbowing Taehyung. Taehyung only shakes his head and hands him his cup, before excusing himself. He throws you another charming smile and if you weren’t so on edge, your knees might have buckled.

“He’s…” 

“A pain in the ass?” Jungkook supplies, “Yeah.”

“No, I was gonna say he’s interesting,” You laugh. A short silence settles between you both, giving you a moment to really take him in. You itch your chin nervously before pushing your lips to the rim of your cup and watching him.

You’ve always known that Jungkook was somehow handsome, sexy and cute all at the same time- wide, doe eyes, pinchable cheeks, pretty smile, and then his body… His thighs strain against the tight material of his pants and you’re certain it’s deliberate. His button up shirt is loose but still molds to his muscles in that way where it leaves you wanting more. His shirt is buttoned at the elbow, giving you a peek to the smattering of tattoos on his forearm. His dark hair is parted in the middle, all soft and shiny, and a little long. It settles over his forehead, almost in his eyes, effortlessly. Two hoops in each ear glint in your direction and you swallow nervously.

Jungkook catches you looking at his tattoos- how ironic, considering he’s doing the same of you. The satin black top you’re wearing has a plunging neckline, giving him a view of the tattoos stemming from your upper arm to your clavicle.

It also offers him a teasing hint of your bare chest where if you turn to the side just a little, he catches a glimpse of even more. It makes him swallow, just as nervous as you. The top itself is loose, only cinched a little at the waist but your pants are tight, your strappy heels adding even more dimension to your legs.

You nervously twist the layering of gold necklaces around your neck. Jungkook has always thought you were beautiful, but he’s never seen you like this. Not even when he knew you years ago.

“Your cup’s empty again,” You laugh nervously, offering to make him another drink. You don’t know what to do with your hands, wanting to keep busy.

“Oh,” Jungkook breathes, “Yeah.”

He tries to keep his eyes on your hands, really he does. But you bend forward just a little and his eyes immediately flit to your plentiful chest. 

Jungkook thinks he might die, and what a way to go.

You pull away from the table, handing him his drink and he thanks you quietly. Jungkook ignores the way your eyes shine curiously at him, and he buries himself in the confusion fuzzing up his mind.

Jin, to your relief, pulls you away from Jungkook before you can do something incredibly stupid. Like let him burst through your carefully structured walls even further than he already has.

Typically, clubs are not your favorite place to be. The intense crowd, the neon lights, the smoke… It’s all over the top. Usually, you can’t even hear yourself think over the music. Though, you don’t mind the sense of anonymity in such a crowded place. Besides, you’ve heard great things about IBEX, so you’re curious about it.

It’s a huge place, easy for everyone to split up, but still small enough that you can easily find your group. You urge Sana to go have fun with the guys as you order a round of drinks for everyone. As one of the oldest of your friends, you felt that sense of responsibility for them. Even if you hadn’t called them friends in years.

You signal them over once the drinks are ready, catching Namjoon’s eye and beckoning him over. They slowly begin to surround you, shouting thank you’s over the music. Jimin slings his arm around your shoulders as if it’s nothing. As if he’s known you for all this time.

It makes you feel warm. He gazes at you with crescent eyes and a full smile. It makes your heart thump heavily in your chest.

“Cheers,” Jimin says, tearing his eyes away from you and towards the group. His toast elicits a sequence of ‘cheers’ from everyone. You scan across all of them before your eyes inevitably land on Jungkook. He’s looking at you with a smile, the kind of smile that makes you wonder if it’s a smile only for your eyes.

Your smile matches his in intensity, neither of you pulling your gazes away. Until Jin pulls you away from Jimin, exclaiming that he needs to dance with you. His best friend.

The moment passes, and you make sure Sana is okay. She’s conversing with Yoongi now, and he’s laughing at something she’s saying. It makes you feel warm. Again.

You allow the music to pump through your veins as laughter bubbles from your lips freely at Jin’s antics. You entertain him, copying his coordinated movements with his same enthusiasm. You can tell he’s drunk, from the fiery flush in his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He abruptly pulls you close to him for a tight hug and holds your face in his hands.

“Jin,” You giggle, “What you doin’?”

“I love you,” Jin giggles, “Y’r my best friend, ‘n I love you.” He always got like this when you were drunk, so affectionate. You wonder how he knows exactly what you need to hear, when you need to hear it.

“Can’t wait for you t’meet Yuna when we get home,” Jin slurs.

“I’m excited, too-”

“She’s nervous y’know,” Jin continues as if you hadn’t said anything, “Knows y’r my best friend.”

“Jin,” You exhale, “Even if she doesn’t like me, you clearly like her. I shouldn’t matter-”

“No,” Jin says sharply, “Why d’you think you don’t matter? You matter to me.”

“Jin-”

“Stop it,” He silences you and you comply with a sigh. 

“She doesn’t have to be nervous around me,” You finally say.

“You can be a little scary when you want to be,” He teases.

“That’s exactly how I want to be known,” You scoff and Jin laughs, swaying with you offbeat to the music. You stand with Jin like that for a few minutes, sipping on your drink and giggling at his antics.

“Seokjin,” You murmur, voice a little shaky, “I never say it but… I-I love you. So much. You’re my best friend and my rock. I don’t know who I’d be without you-”

“You’d be you,” Jin says without missing a beat, “You’d be scary, intense, kind, genuine, petty, funny and beautiful with or without me, sweetheart.”

Jin sees wetness in your eyes and pulls you in for another hug. “None of that,” Jin murmurs, “Hey, let’s take a picture ‘n send it to Grandma. She’ll get a kick out of that.”

You stand in Jin’s arms, in the crowd of people surrounding you and not paying attention to you. Despite the throng of people around you, it feels like it’s just you and Jin, and your friends in the club.

“Let’s get back to our friends,” You say, “They probably think we’re making out-”

“You would be so lucky,” Jin scoffs, “Only Yuna gets this handsome face.” You pinch his cheeks affectionately and coo at him.

“Hey, by the way,” Jin says, “Not to be totally unprofessional here. But I’m pretty sure Jeon Jungkook has the hots for you. Kid won’t stop lookin’ at you. Not that I can blame him, I mean look at your tits.”

With that statement, Jin walks away from you, leaving you confused and curious- two words becoming increasingly common with your thoughts of Jeon Jungkook.

“Hey pretty,” comes a sweet voice to your right side. You already know it’s Jimin before you meet his sincere eyes.

“Hey you,” You reply, “Wanna dance? We used to always be in sync.”

If Jimin is surprised he doesn’t show it. He only takes your drink and finishes it, placing it on a high table near you. He walks behind you, a hand on the small of your back as you weave through the crowd easily. Bodies push back into you but you only dance along with them to move past. Jimin pulls you closer to him once he finds a spot, pulling you into his side. He turns you so that you’re facing him, the lights of the club illuminating the sheen of his lips and the shine in his eyes. You push a stray strand of his silver hair back behind his ear.

“I meant it you know,” Jimin murmurs, for your ears only, “You look good.” You lean into him at his praise, a hand on his chest. Your nails press into the soft material of his dress shirt and he tightens his grip around your waist, thumbs rubbing circles. 

“You do, too,” You reply easily, “You always did.”

Jimin scoffs but you look at him earnestly. “I mean it,” You say with a smirk, mimicking his words. He says nothing, only holds you and rolls his hips into yours to the beat of the music. He watches you carefully, trying to gauge your reaction. You snake a hand to the base of his neck and lightly scratch as he presses his nose to your neck. You’re lucky he’s holding you tight- you’re certain you’re knees would buckle if it weren’t for him.

It’s been years since anyone danced with you like this. You let out a soft sound into his skin and Jimin groans, pressing his hips into yours even more slowly if possible.

“Why’d you leave,” Jimin breathes into your skin, “Missed you. Missed my friend.”

“I was a mess,” You mutter, “I’m still a mess.”

“You’re here now?” He asks, looking at you with big eyes. Jimin cups your face tenderly, and you’re not sure how many of these kind touches you can take for one night.

“Yeah,” You say faintly, “I just… couldn’t. I still can’t.”

You won’t apologize for mending your own cracks the way you needed to. And Jimin knows that. “Don’t be a stranger,” Jimin says and pulls you in for a hug.

“Jimin,” You mumble, “I missed you, too.”

Barely stifling a yawn, you look around for your group. They’re all within eyesight of you- Sana and Yoongi were still engrossed in conversation with each other, Namjoon with Jin, Hoseok and Jimin and Taehyung with Jungkook. Taehyung casts a look over to you and immediately whispers to Jungkook. It shouldn’t surprise you that they both saunter over to you, standing on either side of you. Taehyung wraps an arm around your shoulders and leans against you as if you’re old friends. At this angle, you can see the expanse of his tanned, golden skin since the top few buttons of his shirt are popped.

“See somethin’ you like?” Taehyung asks coyly with a wink.

“No, just wondering why you’re wearing tinted aviators inside,” You mutter, pointing at him, “You look like an asshole.”

Taehyung laughs, throwing his head back good-naturedly, “You clearly don’t know fashion. You must think you’re hilarious.”

Before you can retort, a yawn overtakes you. “Are we boring you?” Jungkook teases.

“No, ‘m just tired,” You blink to force yourself to stop yawning, “Hey, you guys wanna get ice cream?”

“Yes,” Jungkook says instantly.

Taehyung nearly snorts but agrees. By the time you and Jungkook say your goodbyes, and you ask for the tenth time if Sana wants to come with you (she declines, opting to stay with Yoongi), Taehyung is nowhere to be found. Jungkook rolls his eyes, his phone vibrating with a text from him-

taehyung: you’re welcome 

“Tae’s not coming,” Jungkook says slowly, wondering if you might change your mind if it’s just you two getting ice cream.

You shrug, “His loss. I know a great place.”

Taking Jungkook to one of your favorite ice cream places that you used to come with Appa to feels intimate. But it feels right and you’re not bothered by it. Once you buy your respective cones (you pay for both before Jungkook can even fumble for his card), you head back outside for a short walk towards the hotel.

The ice cream place itself was close to the hotel, though you had to Uber here from the club. It’s a nice night for a walk, a little chilly but not uncomfortably so. You and Jungkook fall into an easy conversation, talking about the silliness of your shared friends.

He looks nice under the moonlight, you decide. A light breeze lifts his hair up briefly before it flawlessly settles over his forehead.

“I can’t keep up with you,” Jungkook whispers, his words carrying into the night air.

“What do you mean?” Your heart picks up immediately at the anguish in his tone. The air between both of you shifts immediately. What was easy becomes hardened, the space between suffocating you. You can physically see him pulling away from you. Months, or maybe years, of frustration seems to be coming to a head right here. Right near your favorite ice cream shop.

“One sec you hate me. The next, you’re asking me to get ice cream with you,” Jungkook says, something familiar and icy curling in his brown irises. It always looks so off-putting, the callousness in his eyes. It seems to be directed at you so often these days.

“I don’t hate you-”

“You avoided me for 2 and a half months. You’re only talking to me now because you have to!”

“That’s not true-”

“Oh, really? You telling me that you the last two and a half months was all in my head?”

You stay quiet, because he’s not wrong.

“That’s what I thought,” Jungkook says to himself, tearing his eyes from you. The cold look in his eyes has returned and it makes your heart ache. He can’t look at you like that, you can hardly bear it.

“I’m fucked up, I get it. Don’t think I don’t get it-”

“You left. Without a goodbye and now fuckin’ five years later- my dream girl’s my colleague and she hates me.”

A sudden, chilling epiphany douses you- he has no idea why you left. You know him well enough to know that he’ll feel awful once you tell him. Apparently none of his friends had told him. Maybe they thought it was your story to tell. It’s not much of a story, not really. It’s the story of a heartbroken girl with commitment issues.

Your face drops. Maybe he’s hurting you the same way you hurt him. But it changes nothing.

“You can’t even look at me now!”

“You listen to me, Jungkook,” You hiss, “I’m not your dream girl. I’m nobody’s dream girl, so let’s get that straight. I’m awful a-and terrible and mean- and… 

“My dad died,” You finally whisper, “Appa died and I couldn’t handle grad school so I dropped out. Dropped off the face of the earth. Got the first job I could, for Grandma and me. 

“I fuckin’ dropped out, my daddy died and I can’t look at you sometimes because it fuckin’ reminds me of when I was happy and I can’t chase that feeling because I don’t know what it feels like anymore!”

Jungkook’s eyes are wide, pretty pink lips parted in speechlessness. Fuck. You’ve ruined any chance at friendship with him, you know that. So you bury the dagger even further in whatever this is and you turn on your heel and run. Because that’s all you’re good at. Running. Your eyes are blurry with freely falling tears and the sound of your own heaving sobs are loud in your ears. 

You leave your heart out on the streets of Tokyo, near your favorite ice cream shop but you don’t even hear the sound of Jungkook chasing after you.

[morwensteelsheen]

farawyn and borodred for the ship ask game thing?

thank you so much!! :)

okay i’ll start with borodred because for some unfathomable reason i actually got there first —

1. What made you ship it?

One of my favourite Types of ships is the Elder Statesmen Of War-type set-ups, where it’s less about people brought together through theatrical romantic gestures and more about the steadiness of people who are going through similar (immensely difficult) circumstances, who know that in their hearts they’re always going to put their duty to that cause first, but still seek out human comfort in other people who will understand what their priorities are and why.

I think there’s also a lot of similarities about the kind of helplessness they both face despite having this tremendous innate strength. Both of them still have to deal with family dynamics that are complex (made more complex by the war) and that can’t be fixed just by their own sheer will power; both of them die these utterly unnecessary deaths (not that death makes a ship but I think in this instance it actually points to the constant tragedy these guys face); and both of them are meant to be the principal figures of their families and people and are ultimately sidelined by the cruel mechanisations of war and the forward march of history or whatever wanky term there is for it — my apologies to ep thompson's ghost, dont haunt me bro.

Plus there’s obviously the interesting thread raised when Faramir starts bitching about Gondor and likens Gondor (and by very explicit extension, Boromir) to Rohan. That always made me go ‘Hmmmmmm, wonder what else Boromir liked about Rohan,’ lmao.

Anyways for me the ship is the equivalent of Star Wars’ Kanan and Hera or (my OTP to end all others) Luke and Wedge, just people getting by on love and duty and without big ol fancy romance.

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

The fanon, I think, really makes it, as with so many other LOTR ships. battlefield manners, by themightypen is essentially the definitive take for me on them — these two guys who are just so fucking exhausted, man, but still overcome by defensive love for their families, even if their (foster-)siblings are naïve fools. That I just love, love, love. Plus I think they’re unique for their ability to pretty comfortable explore the relationship between Gondor & Rohan in advance of the Ring War without having to stray too far into AU, which I always appreciate.

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Not really, tbh, except in that I don’t think Boromir is necessarily as laddy as people like to portray him. I’m happy to play into it in, say, my modern AUs because I think that’s a fun and sweet niche for him, but I am a bit 🤪 about Boromir as this kind of reckless, drunken playboy (not least because I think that’s a much funnier niche for Faramir to fill, at least when he’s younger). Chapter Four of Swaddledog’s Hearts and Minds gets my preferred Boromir characterisation absolutely spot on, I think.

And now, sigh, the ultimate OTP, Farawyn —

1. What made you ship it?

For starters, I think I am obsessed with Éowyn in a way I’ve never quite been obsessed with any other fictional character. I came to reading LOTR at this moment in my life where I was intensely frustrated about everything — trapped inside permanently (helplessly!) because of the pandemic, just starting a new political organisation that I truly believed in but that was still making me feel like shit, facing down an untenable about of work, and, fundamentally, really, really hating being a woman and what that means. And along comes Éowyn, who is bitter, who is cold, who is ANGRY, and who doesn’t perform joy or softness or gentleness just because people expect her to. She’s this seminal Woman Of War in so many ways, I think the kind of person a lot of us wish we could be. She’s got her emotional taps cut off at the source, she holds her head high and faces down unimaginable personal and political terrors, and at the end of it all still has this abiding love for her family that, I would argue, is almost unparalleled by anyone else in the book.

After all that, she gets this incredible moment of emotional catharsis (or what we expect to be emotional catharsis): “no living man am I!” She undertakes THE greatest martial act of the Ring War, and in that moment there’s this unbelievably sophisticated dialogue happening about gender (“Éowyn it was, and Dernhelm also”), and leadership (Merry finding his courage not because of the immediate scenario of the Witch-king, but because he’s spurred into it by Éowyn’s presence), and love and care.

And then we learn that no, actually, this glorious act of violence wasn’t the emotional catharsis we thought it would be. She gets to ride to war, she gets to throw herself headlong at death, and in the end that hopeless act of individualism isn’t really what does it for her. She’s still left desolate and despairing, and actually all of her problems haven’t gone away.

And then we need to rewind a bit, because along comes Faramir, who is gentle, and is kind, and does seem to believe in joy, but not because people expect it — actually it's made abundantly clear nobody expects it — but because it’s something quite innate to how he figures the world. And he’s a huge fucking nerd too. I have a lot of thoughts on Faramir’s flaws and why I find them endearing, which I won’t put here, but almost immediately you get this sense of a guy who’s quite melodramatic, good humoured, and very much not made to live in a time of war.

But he’s also clear-headed about war and what it requires (tactically, if not strategically, though that’s a post for another day), but who is kind of cynical and weary of it in his own unique way. And it’s a unique cynicism given his personal circumstances because he’s the second son of The great family of Gondor, he’s apparently — though with some big ol’ question marks hanging about the extent — very able to command some of the elite units in the realm, and what’s more than that, he’s got all these fantastical powers (the light mind reading to start, to say nothing of this apparently magical ability to command animals too. bruh.). By all accounts he should be this brazen hot mess, but he’s not. He’s desperate to claw his way out of this war-torn cage of expectation his people have for how a man should comport himself in time of war. Is it a little naïve? Sure. A little fussy? Absolutely. But does it point to that same desperation that Éowyn has? Yes! But also the practicality, like, neither of them are really enjoying the circumstances they live under, but good fucking god are they both able to Make It Work.

So finally we get to the Houses of Healing and what is the finest and most aggressively romantic writing of LOTR. Seriously, it’s so fucking much. It’s breathtaking. It reminds me quite viscerally of this fabulous quote from Les Mis:

The power of a glance has been so much abused in love stories, that it has come to be disbelieved in. Few people dare now to say that two beings have fallen in love because they have looked at each other. Yet it is in this way that love begins, and in this way only.

At some point I will devote more time to talking about the two reasons line, and the blissful Queen of Gondor speech, but I think to me that big, important line is: “And then her heart changed, or at least she understood it; and the winter passed, and the sun shone upon her.”

It’s not about Éowyn changing herself entirely (though, I think, it really does bear mentioning that she does change, and that’s every bit as important to understanding that scene as it is romantic), it’s about Éowyn coming to terms with how to live with herself as herself, and how to live in communion with someone else. She can’t just cut people out anymore, and she can’t just treat them as objects of infatuation as she did with Aragorn, she has to reckon with people as they are. And that’s sort of the moment where I knew I was about to plunge fully off the deep end with these two and never know a moments’ peace again, lmao.

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

Someone on here once called Farawyn a love letter to women and, by god, yes, exactly that. I love the capacity for emotional intimacy, that is beautiful in ways I can’t express. To me, though, my favourite thing is the promise of life they speak of. Not as in oh they shag loads and have babies (though not opposed to that, obviously), but in the sense that unlike Aragorn and Arwen, who are always going to be buried under/burdened with the crushing weight of history and tradition, Éowyn and Faramir are going out yonder those hills and they’re going to do some real cottagecore farming shit. Obviously with all the trappings of rank and nobility and whatnot, but they, unique to anybody else in the books, get to sow this new idea of what life should be. They are, outside of Aragorn, the single most powerful people in Gondor. Éowyn’s got the ear of a king, a steward (which is essentially a prime-ministerial deal here), and functionally her own prince (if the hobbits are to be believed when they refer to it as essentially hers). I suspect that, in life, there were remarkably few arguments she wasn’t winning, and that Ithilien probably trended towards the jumped up noble hippie camp Tolkien so desperately wanted Oxford to be (or, in other words — Cambridge, lol).

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Yeah, man, everybody stop treating Faramir like he’s a big fucking crybaby and Éowyn like she’s some kind of shrieking 2010-era tumblr girl.

One of the single most important lines defining Faramir’s character is when Denethor roasts his ass for always trying to appear noble and lordly, if you ignore every other piece of textual evidence we have about him, what part of that line makes you think Faramir’s some simpering daisy? And why would you want to link tremendous emotional intelligence and care with being too limp-wristed to function, lol??? Like I struggle loads with writing Faramir, because I have never once in my life tried to be noble or self-restrained, so find it hard to get into that mindset, but better, I think, to imagine him too closed off than to do this wilting flower song and dance lmao.

And stop making Éowyn out to be this over-emotional angst machine. She’s got problems, yes, and she’s sure as shit got a lot of angst, but at almost every point in the book where we’re overtly dealing with her emotions, she’s sublimating them into something else. One of the most serious times we see her cry is when she’s fighting with Aragorn about riding out, and after that moment she literally tries to kill herself. Those tears aren’t standard, man, that’s a real watershed (lol) moment for her. You have to read around what the text is saying to get a better feel why everybody’s constantly calling her cold and distant.

[pressedinthepages]

Assurance

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Jaskier/Reader

Rating: E

Masterlist

a/n:  Reader Request [Hi, new follower and I wanted to say how much I love your writing and possibly request something please? Could you please write something with a female reader where she's had a bad relationship before and one day she's strumming Jaskiers lute and accidentally breaks one of the strings....she's really nervous and panicked he'll be mad and when he gets back he can see how upset and scared she is. But when she tells him he shows her how he'd never hurt her? ❤️ With smut pls? You're so good at it lol and I love the way you write his dialogue ❤️❤️❤️]  <3 of course love :)

(There is a link on my page where you can be added to my taglist :D)

Warnings: language, smut, hurt/comfort

Jaskier tries to reassure you with his love in a very effective manner.

The breeze flows through your hair as you sit at the base of a tall pine, Jaskier’s precious lute leaned beside you on the ground. He has disappeared into a field of blueberries and lavender at the bottom of the hill you rest atop of, leaving you with a gentle kiss to your cheek and a request to watch over his instrument. 

    Your fingers drift over the elven wood, and it almost sings to you with the barest touch. You reach over and pick up the lute, placing it gently in your lap. You glance up, catching a glimpse of the bright yellow of Jaskier’s doublet flitting between the cool purples and greens. The wood is warm under your fingers, almost unnaturally so. It calls out to you, begging to be played.

    Your fingers hover over the strings before sliding gently, plucking a few and letting the sound ring out over the berry patch. You miss how Jaskier’s head jumps up out of the bushes at the noise, smiling wide as he watches you wander aimlessly over the instrument, your head bent in concentration. 

    You start working at a rhythm, nothing particular coming to mind as you let your fingers dance over the neck. And then you make a mistake, your world narrowing into nothing as you pull the thinnest string. You watch in slow-motion as it snaps, sending a sour twang into the valley and through your heart. 

    You freeze, stuck in mortification, your eyes flitting over the swirl of the fractured string. Your blood pounds in your ears, your heart racing beneath your chest as you glance down and see Jaskier coming back up the hill. Tears spring into your eyes and you fight them back, your chest heaving with panic. 

    “Jaskier, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” your voice breaks into a sob as you back up against the tree, hugging your knees tight to your chest. His eyes, so beautiful and blue, flit back and forth between you and the lute, trying desperately to connect the dots. 

    “My dear, it’s alright, it was an accident…”

    “But I broke it! I should’ve just kept my hands to myself, I’m so stupid-”

    “No!” Jaskier breaks your spiral, kneeling before you and reaching out his hands for your own. You carefully reach back, his hands warm when his fingers wrap themselves into your grasp. “You are not stupid, love. It is nothing more than a little string, terribly simple to fix. Besides, it’s a thing. I care so much more for you,” he brushes your hair away from your face, dragging his finger down your cheek, “that simple words truly cannot do it justice.”

    You sniffle a bit, leaning into where his hand still lays on your cheek. “I thought you’d be upset, Jaskier…”

“Never with you, my darling. You are far too precious to me to be upset with about something as silly as a little string.” Jaskier’s voice is barely above a whisper, his lips turned up in a reassuring smile as he leans to press a gentle kiss against your cheek. You sigh as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close. He chuckles a bit as he turns the two of you around, settling you in his lap while still engulfed in his embrace. 

“I really am sorry, Jaskier.”

“I know, love. Oh!” Jaskier perks up a bit, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “How does this sound: Why don’t we head back to town, I think I have an extra set of strings in my bag. You can help me restring it!”

You smile into the crook of his neck, nodding a bit as the last of your tears dry. “I’d like that.”

***

    The two of you sit on the floor in front of the fire, the sun having long set beneath the horizon. Jaskier’s fingers move confidently, untying the broken string and setting it to the side. He dutifully explains every step as he attaches the new string to the bridge and brings it up, tying the other end around the tuning peg. His smile is wide as he chats, his hands moving mindlessly as he tightens the string.

    “Here,” he says when he is finished, “give it a pluck.”

    You raise your eyebrow, tilting away from him a bit. “I’m not sure that’s the best idea-”

    “Nonsense! Here, I’ll show you how.” Jaskier shuffles to sit behind you, settling the lute in your lap as his legs wrap around yours. You can feel his breath on the back of your neck and his heart thumping in his chest. “Here, love. Hold the neck here, and give me your other hand.”

    You wordlessly follow his instructions and Jaskier wraps his hand around the outside of yours, pushing your hand to rest atop the strings. “Now, just barely give it a pull, just enough to let it sing.”

    You do, and the one note resounds in the quiet of the room, dissipating as quickly as it arrived. You smile as Jaskier presses his lips to the crook of your neck, and you can feel the grin on his lips. “Now my love,” he whispers, “I’d like to show you just how much I love you.”

    Your head falls back onto his shoulder and you squeeze his hand in your own. “Jaskier,” you gasp as the lute is pulled from your hands and set a safe distance away. His fingers yank your shirt from where it is tucked into your trousers and up over your head. Your nipples harden under the pads of his fingers when they dig into the tender flesh, kneading and rolling the peaks like the sweetest dough. 

    You feel just the smallest glance of teeth where Jaskier sucks along your neck and you moan darkly, reaching for his thighs just to touch, feel, have him under your skin. Jaskier moves slowly, roving his hips around you, slinking out of his chemise before facing you. Your fingers scratch lightly through the generous dusting of hair over his chest, biting your lip as he moans when you brush over one of his nipples. 

    He leans down and presses his lips to yours, pressing himself between your thighs as his hands rove across your shoulders and down your hips. His tongue licks into your mouth, gentle and loving with every kiss. Your hands move to the buttons on his trousers, fumbling through each until they are loose enough for you to slide them over his backside. Jaskier chuckles as he shimmies out of them, chucking them to the side before working on yours. 

    He moves with much more ease, a “blink and you’ll miss it” sort of experience. Your trousers join his, discarded within a matter of heartbeats. Both of your underthings are thrown aside as well, leaving you both bare and reaching for any and every inch of skin that you can reach.

    Jaskier’s fingers find your core, running through the slick before plunging in. Your breasts heave with a sigh, your hips chasing his fingers as he begins to languidly thrust in and out. His cock hangs heavy between his legs, weeping a bit with neglect. Jaskier rubs his thumb in little circles over the sensitive peak of your core, leaning down to kiss up your stomach once more.

    “Please, Jask,” you murmur, threading your fingers into his hair. He nuzzles against your chest, his stubble just barely scratching your skin. He pushes himself up to rest on his hand, his other hand reaching down to guide himself to press against your cunt.

    “You sure, love?” He asks, his nose brushing yours as he gazes into your eyes. You peck his lips, wrapping your legs around his hips and hooking your ankles together.

    You smile, nodding into him. “Yes, Jaskier. Please, love me.”

    “Always and forever, my dear.”

    Jaskier slowly pushes into you, stretching you wide on his cock. Your head hits the floor with a faint thunk, relishing in the feeling of being so thoroughly filled. Jaskier surrounds you, his arms moving rest on the floor with his elbows. His hand fit under your shoulders and his head fits into the crook of your neck as he begins to move, short little thrusts that promise so much more to come.

    “Go on, Jaskier. Please,” you whisper, and his pace picks up. Jaskier’s hips snap against yours with a lazy speed, hitting the bundle of nerves nestled deep in your core with every thrust. Your nails scratch along his hair, pulling him to your lips as he gasps into your mouth.

    His chest is flushed up into his neck and you can tell he’s close, his eyes glazed over with how fucked out his mind is. Heat creeps up from your core, pleasure shooting through your spine faster and faster with each passing moment. Your climax comes like a breath of fresh air after too long underwater, a gasping relief that soars under your skin.

    Jaskier follows not too long after, spending himself deep inside of you. Your foreheads rest together, sweaty and sticky and too blissed out to move. You stay like that as the moon creeps higher and higher, and Jaskier finally pulls himself out of you. 

    He wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you flush against his side. Jaskier’s heart beats loudly against your ear, slowing with each deep breath he takes. “I love you my dear,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head, “more than you can ever know.”

    You smile, nuzzling into his chest. “I think I may have some idea.”

[easily-infatuated23]

Undercover- Part Three (Healer!Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Prologue, Part One, Part Two , Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

a/n: ok i kinda love where this is going and i’ve decided that the Reader is a spy lol comment if you would like to be added on the tag list for this series! also sorry if this is a cliff hanger 

pairing: Healer! Draco x Spy! (?) Reader

word count: 2.1k

warning: mentions of trauma and death

summary: During her stay at Malfoy Manor, Reader finds some evidence that will help figure out who had been ordering the killings of muggle-born witches and wizards but will Draco trust her?

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This assignment had really taken a strange turn. Not only had I been imbedded with Death Eaters, but I had been stabbed and was now hiding in Malfoy Manor. Draco was much kinder and happier than the last time I saw him. Of course, I had heard the stories of this newer and better Draco, but witnessing it first hand was something else. No matter how many times I told him I had to leave to keep him safe, he would just assure me that the protective charms he placed around the house would keep us safe. I remained on edge. After all, safety is a matter of perspective. I had a feeling part of the reason he was against me leaving was not just for my safety, but I suspected he was glad to have the company. It truly was a large house. A large and empty house for just one person. With his father in Azkaban and his mother taking a much needed vacation abroad, he was the most alone he had probably ever been…physically that is. After my slip up in revealing the name of the organization after me, I tried to speak about the subject as little as I could. All I wanted was to be relieved of the burden I was carrying but, I knew if I did, Draco Malfoy would surely be killed. So, I continued to bear the burden of knowledge as Draco began healing me again.

Draco had lead me to his kitchen and motioned for me to hop up on to the counter. He had attempted to assist me but I was stubborn and struggled through the process myself. He opened his medical bag and pulled out a needle and suture thread. He rolled up his sleeves as he went to wipe some disinfectant on my side before turning to thread the needle “How did you figure out who I was?” I asked my Healer on the second day of my stay. “Well, the appearance change was pretty hard to see through but once those Death Eaters said your name at St. Mungo’s I remembered you”. “Remembered me?” I questioned. “I don’t think we spoke once while at Hogwarts and I have been off the grid pretty much since I finished there. Ouch! That hurts.” I said, wincing as he tended to my side. “Stop fussing, it’s only a few stitches. And if you hadn’t apparated I wouldn’t have to give you stitches you know” he replied, slightly laughing at my inability to stand the pain, especially after I had refused to let him use a pain relieving potion on me. I was worried I’d say something I would regret later. Whether I was worried about spilling something about my assignment or something else was still up for debate.

“You are avoiding my question” I said matter-a-factly. He sighed. “You knew me back then, I always noticed the pretty girls” he said with a slight blush. “That’s just a cop out answer, I don’t believe you” I replied, not making eye contact so that he couldn’t see the slight smile on my face. He shrugged his shoulders and stood up. “Believe what you’d like”.

He walked over to the sink and washed his hands. I jumped off the counter. “Fucking hell” I muttered. He laughed again. “You should take it easy for at least two weeks” he said. I groaned but then, remembered something. My heart sank a little as I remembered where I was and the history of this house. “Hey look I am gonna ask you a question that’s gonna make you really uncomfortable so I apologize in advance. And, please know I am only asking because I feel like I have to.” He turned to face me, a worried look washed over his face. “Do you have a record of all You-Know-Who’s followers? There were rumors about a book. I know he used this place as a headquarters during the second war and I am desperate for any lead on…..well a lead” I said, holding in my reasons. He grimaced slightly. “Unfortunately for me, yes but I guess that’s fortunate for you” he replied harshly. I felt guilty for bringing up the awful things in his past like this but I truly felt I had no choice. And besides, if this caused him to feel some apprehension towards me that might be beneficial in stopping his relentless questions.

He walked past me and began down a long hallway. I followed close behind him. He took a sharp left turn and continued down a spiral staircase that seemed as if it went on for ages. As he lead me down, neither of us spoke a word. When we finally reached the bottom, it felt like an entirely different place. This couldn’t possibly be the basement of the surprisingly homey manor I had just been inside. Could it? As we exited the staircase, we stood facing a large green door. The green paint on the door was faded, as if the door was centuries old but there was a large golden key hole shining on the front, underneath an equally shining golden door knob. The two looked as if they’d been installed recently.

“Mother and I tried to destroy it but nothing we did worked. There is some serious dark magic in this book. We locked it down here to make sure it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands.” He turned towards me, his face only inches from mine. If he hadn’t done this in such a menacing way, I might have swooned a little but now was not the right time for that. “I hope I am not putting it in the wrong hands now” he said. I shook my head. It had just occurred to me, there was a possibility that he didn’t believe my story. I knew it was true and the thugs after me were good evidence in my favor, but it all could have been a plant. Thats why he was asking so many questions. Maybe I would have to tell him after all. He turned back around to face the door. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a small golden key on a string. Had he been wearing the necklace the whole time? I wondered why I hadn’t noticed. He took off the necklace and put the key into the hole. He took a deep breath and unlocked the door.

Once the door opened he stepped aside, allowing me to look inside the small room that had been revealed. The inside was dark and gave off a feeling of uncertainty and slight panic. There were only two things residing in the small room; a podium and a large black leather bound book. I started to walk in when Draco put his arm across the entrance and stopped me. “Prepare yourself. Once you go in and open it, you will never feel the same again. The book can have an effect almost like a Dementor” he said. “What exactly is the book?” I asked. “The Binding of the Death Eaters” he said with a shiver. “Before someone could receive the Dark Mark and be fully inducted as a Death Eater, they would have to sign their name. It binds your fate to the Dark Lord” he said. The way he stared at the book could only be described as a raging and powerful fury. I knew that Draco Malfoy had been a Death Eater but I had no idea that even after the Dark Lord had been killed, he still had so much power of Draco’s life. “I am really sorry” I began. “I know that sorry means nothing especially since I have forced you to come down here but I truly am. I’m also sorry that you never got to chose not to sign.” He looked at me. The fury was still spinning in his eyes but with every moment it lessened. He said nothing but simply nodded. I entered the room and, with a deep breath, opened the book. I titled my head to one side and turned to Draco. “It’s blank” I said. He looked almost relieved. “The names are only revealed to someone who has the Dark Mark” he said. “So you were testing me and my story” I said. He nodded. He then turned side ways and gestured with his left arm for me to exit the room. “This might freak you out so you might want to leave now” I said, pulling my wand from my jacket pocket. “Obscure Appareat Vestigium” I whispered, pointing my wand at my left forearm. The black skull appeared on my arm and a snake slithered out of its mouth. Draco stepped back with a horrified expression on his face. “It’s not a real Dark Mark and it’s not permanent” I said quickly. “The task force I’m apart of developed this charm for undercover work”. Draco looked me in the eyes, turned, and hurried up the staircase.

Now I’d done it. Just as he was going to fully trust me, I broke his trust. The look he gave me made me feel sick. Just another horrified face to add to the growing list that haunted my nightmares. I sighed deeply then turned my attention back to the book. I flipped through the pages. I saw plenty of names I recognized, all ex-Death Eaters who had wound up in Azkaban or served lighter sentences and some were names of people who were killed in the Battle of Hogwarts. I even saw Draco’s name. His signature was much shakier than most of the other names. He had been so young. The more I looked I realized something was missing. I started to realize an option that I had never considered. It made the sick feeling in my stomach lurch again but before I could fully register the awful feeling, I saw a name I recognized. This was a name I had never seen associated in this way with the Dark Lord. Suddenly, things started to make more sense. My heart was practically beating out of my chest.

I jumped out of the room and shut the door. Draco had left the key hanging on the door knob which I grasped and used to lock the door. That book had just become very important evidence in a trial no one knew was beginning. I spoke the Dark Mark removing incantation and raced back up the spiral stair case. When I got to the top I was out of breath. I turned right and made my way back into the kitchen. Draco was sitting at the kitchen table. He looked dazed and upset. “I can give you an explanation now” I said breathlessly, tossing him the key. He looked up at me suddenly, just barely catching the key. I had clearly startled him. “I know who is behind the Dark Saints and right now you may be the only chance there is that this will all stop.” He stood up. “What are you talking about? Stop what? You being chased?” He was clearly frustrated. “You have every right to be frustrated with me and I promise I will explain everything but first I need to get one more piece of information.” I said. “And what’s that?” he retorted, crossing his arms. “Do you know where I can get the last…let’s say year of Daily Prophet obituary sections?” He looked at me, clearly feeling very puzzled. “I mean…” he started, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “I guess they did start offering a digital option two years ago-” “Perfect!” I said, cutting him off. I raced back up the stairs to his bedroom where I remembered seeing a computer. “Wait! What are you doing?” he called after me.

When I entered his room I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. I sat down at the computer and began furiously scanning through the obituary pages. He entered the room moments after me and stood over my shoulder, curiously watching my frantic scribbles. Once I had finished I slumped back in the chair for a moment. I hadn’t noticed when I started crying but once I did, the tears flowed at a hotter temperature and more quickly down my cheeks than they ever had before. I finally turned to face him. “There’s at least twenty of them” I said, trying to hold my voice steady. “What does that mean?” Draco asked. He understood that I meant twenty people had died but he wanted to know how that was important in my explanation. I slowly stood only to suddenly become so dizzy my balance faltered. “Y/N? Are you ok you’ve gone very pale”. I started to nod but then shook my head then everything went black.

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