#truly what is going on with these line mates and their shenanigans

[hughesybear]

can we talk about them for a moment

[kookiestiddies]

2 | two for two

series m.list

what's the worst that could happen at a party?

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: swearing, kissing, drinking, attempted humour

A/N: thank you so much for reading! updates will come...when they come ;-; if you are curious to know, I listened to this song while writing this fic. This really helped me figure out jk and oc's dynamic sort of. Also, i do not own these photos, I got them off of pinterest lol👍🏼happy reading this silly chapter weeee

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

The Jeon twins made for an odd pair. 

While they lived up to their title in terms of mannerisms and speech patterns, physically, they were as different as can be. 

If it weren’t for the inky patterns that lined their arms and possibly other parts of their body, their matching set of doe eyes, and the sudden dips in each cheek that always appeared after the sight of a familiar face or a well-told joke, you could never have guessed that they were once womb-mates.

While Chaeyoung thrived in bright shades of pink and white, Jungkook opted for the brooding presence of blacks and anything else no brighter than navy blues. Where she was all softness and curves, he was a sketch-up of hard lines. On the days when Chaeyoung wore butterfly clips in her hair that complimented her flowy dress and Mary Jane heels, Jungkook styled his mullet, wore more silver jewellery than you could count, and stalked about in black stompers.

Just a few months into your new company of friends, you were quick to learn that the whole lot of them were party animals, almost always on the lookout for nights of alcohol-induced shenanigans, and shameless whoring, twerking, strutting and queefing around as Jimin had so eloquently put, while you were decidedly not.

“You’ll come won’t you,” Chae asked you as she grasped your upper arm and looked at you with puppy eyes. 

“I won’t,” you answered with a sickeningly sweet smile. 

It was on a Friday afternoon when you had been in the middle of your solo biweekly revision session that Chae’s familiar cotton candy head had popped over the sea of silence that engulfed the library. Students glanced at her with annoyance as she noisily clacked her heels over the floor to where you were seated in a single booth towards the back corner. You were also quick to notice the quiet thud of a pair of stompers that followed her suit. 

“Told you she wouldn’t be into it,” Jungkook said dismissively with a blank expression and lazily leaned against the side of your booth. “Oh c’mon, you can’t abandon me like this!” Chae whined and tightened her grip on your arm. It was starting to hurt honestly. 

The girl sitting in the booth across from you sent an angry “Shh!” in your trio’s direction. 

You lowered your head in embarrassment and gestured to the twins to quiet down. “Babe, what do you mean, abandon you? I love you and everything and I truly appreciate our friendship and all, but we really haven’t known each other long enough for this to be that deep,” you said with a look on your face that said you were joking. Jungkook snorted loudly at that.

Another “SHH!” landed on you again. Bitch.

“Y/n! I can’t handle another night of taking care of Jimin and Nayeon’s horny asses. Do you have any idea what the bullshit those idiots put me through?!” Chae cried. Her grip on your arm tightened even more. 

Jesus fuck, does she work out?!?

“C’mon Chae, I told you she wouldn’t be into it. You said you’d prove me wrong. You didn’t. You owe me ice cream now. Let’s go,” Jungkook said monotonously and stood up as you hopelessly pried Chae’s hands away from your arm. 

“Chae, please let go, you’re killing me here,” you whisper-scream, admittedly scared of the chick in front of you.

Luckily, the shrill ringtone of Chae’s phone suddenly cuts through the air and leads her a short way away from your booth to answer the call, gorilla grip talons and all. Both Jungkook and you noticed the irritated look on the girl across and shared an awkward-embarrassed look with each other.

“What? Did you guys bet on me going to the party or something?” you redirected, looking between the twins. He shrugged. “Am I only worth some ice cream?” you joked mindlessly. 

“If you must know, it’s really cheap, grocery store ice cream…” Jungkook said quietly, but not quiet enough to escape your earshot as you massaged your arm (which will probably bruise tomorrow).

Asshole. 

“Oh? Is that so? Everyone knows that cheap, grocery store ice cream tastes miles better though, compared to whatever premium coco-mocha-pumpkin-spiced-latte-ariana-grande ice cream I’m sure the likes of you enjoy,” you banter. 

At this, he stares at you, glides his eyes up and down your figure, and smirks. 

“I mean… I didn’t even say that that’s my taste.”

“What is your taste then?”

“Cheap, grocery store ice cream,” he says with a shy smile.

Is he flirting with you?

Jesus christ, that was a weird exchange, why in the world would your heart be thumping over that? (Because it was.)

Yes, the textbook incident did leave you upset with him for a long while. But your parents taught you that bygones should be bygones. 

After all, he did get down on his knees for you. 

The memory of Jungkook crouching before you haunted you for an embarrassingly long time after, especially given that all your friends witnessed it and never failed to tease the two of you about it, except for Taehyung who still curses the heavens to this day for punishing him with boring TA sessions on that day when he could have been there in person to see it. 

You had claimed to have forgiven him then and there itself, not because you actually meant it, because it would take much more than that to get over how trashy Jungkook’s 50 dollars had made you feel, but just to get over the attention he was bringing to the two of you in the crowded cafeteria. 

No, Jungkook getting down on his knees wasn’t enough. But you didn’t have to say that for him to know, because he saw right through you.

After two weeks of being forced to hang out thanks to your shared friend group and an infinite amount of awkwardly skirting around each other, Jungkook one day approached you alone in the library lugging a bag in his hand. When you looked up at him, he shifted his eyes away to the muddy textbook that lay open on the table and cleared his throat. 

“Here,” he’d said and thrust the bag that weighed a tonne towards you. You wordlessly took it and gave him a curious look. In that moment, he’d reminded you of a child in kindergarten being forced to apologise to the classmate he’s made fun of, looking sheepish and awkward.

In the bag were brand new textbooks. Hardcovers at that. Sitting on top of them was a large pack of your favourite corn chips that you always had on you to munch on. You were surprised to say the least. Not only did you not expect him to be thoughtful enough to replace your textbooks, but you didn’t pin him to be observant enough to know your favourite snack.

“Sorry again…about your books,” he mumbled out while rubbing the back of his neck. You were quiet for a moment, Jungkook’s actions once again leaving you too stunned to speak. 

“Apology accepted,” you quietly replied. And with that, the textbook incident was a chapter closed.

Ever since then, Jungkook and you had to find your footing around each other in your friend group, now on more amicable terms. For Jungkook, it meant getting comfortable around you, which you learnt meant that he would find ways to tease you and somehow always managed to find a way to get under your skin and rattle you. For you, it meant constantly getting annoyed at him and letting him know of that.

It was deeply unsettling how he constantly one-upped you with his comments. You figured you’d rather not engage with him at all in any way or form.

You let out a huff at him and say, “Whatever. This is a really dumb conversation. Hope you enjoy your ice cream, whichever one it is that you end up getting,” before turning back to your work so that he can’t see your cheeks that were beginning to feel hot.

Jungkook was still looking at you, with what you suspected was hesitance.

You look back and raise a questioning brow at him. 

Just as he opens his mouth, Chae saunters back over and unknowingly interrupts him. “Hobi’s here,” she announces while looking around the library. All the focus you had on Jungkook is abandoned immediately as you whip your head around to look for the sight of a familiar sunny grin.

It doesn’t take long for you to find it as its owner walks over to your group with a bickering Jimin and Taehyung in tow. Taehyung’s hands are flailing everywhere and he’s bouncing around with Jimin looking at him in ridicule while trying to get him to calm down.

“What are these idiots fighting about now,” Chae mutters under her breath.

“They're not just friends, okay? They’re soulmates. Hollywood soulmates. There’s a difference," you hear Taehyung say passionately as the trio came within earshot, making Jimin burst out a screech while Hoseok chuckled. You sneak a glance at the girl across and you’re pretty sure you catch her shaking in anger or something. "Soulmates? Come on. They’ve known each other since, what, middle school? That’s just a lifelong bromance," Jimin retorts.

“Hey guys,” Hoseok threw at the twins and you. You were the only one who bothered to reply with one yourself. Chae was too invested in Taehyung and Jimin’s conversation to respond while Jungkook seemed to be in a mood all of a sudden, his eyes fixated on the way Hoseok walked over and leaned against the table facing you. 

“What are they arguing about?” you ask Hoseok. Before he could answer, Jimin voices it out himself exasperatedly. 

"A bromance doesn’t survive Oscars, Batman vs. Bourne debates, and that time Ben got way too into Dunkin’ coffee. That’s a bond,"

“But what does that have to do with why JLo and he aren’t good together???” 

“It has to do with everything!”

“EXCUSE ME, BUT CAN YOU PLEASE EITHER KEEP IT DOWN OR LEAVE THE LIBRARY?!” the girl from earlier finally explodes at your seemingly ever-growing gathering.

“Jesus fuck, yes, yes! We’re leaving,” you bellow out, annoyed and terrified, and start packing up your things.

“We’re leaving?” Chae asks, finally tuning in back to you.

“We are?” Taehyung asks.

“But we just got here,” Jimin adds pitifully. 

It’s your turn to be exasperated as you say “Shut up, please, all of you. We’re getting out of here and going somewhere less quiet so that we don’t seem too much like animals.” You finish packing up and head towards the exit, throwing a measly ‘sorry’ to the girl ahead of you without waiting for a response. The rest of the group moves over similarly like a school of fish.

While Jimin and Taehyung carry on their argument, this time with Jungkook joining in (his contribution being the Dunkin’ lore), Hoseok catches up to you and Chae. 

“Are you sure you’re not gonna change your mind about coming to the party?” Chae tries again.

Hoseok cuts in before you could answer, “What, you mean the one happening tomorrow night?” She nods in confirmation. “She doesn’t want to go but I want her to,” Chae whines. 

“This is gonna hurt Chae, but frankly speaking, I don’t care what you want,” you say curtly, making her huff and setting Hoseok off with laughter. 

“Shut the fuck up, that wasn’t even that funny!” Chae whines at Hoseok. “No, but it’s what your entitled ass deserves,” he throws at her, causing her to fume.

“Who are you calling entitled?!? Jungkook, did you hear what they’re saying about me?” she screeches at her brother. Said brother turns to her and says, “I did and I agree, you are entitled and I also don’t care about what you want.” Now the whole group is laughing along. 

“That’s it, I’m calling Nayeon, you know… a real friend,” Chae huffs and gets distracted by her phone. Hoseok takes this as an opportunity to lean over and put his arm around you. 

“I know we’re joking and all, but I’d really like it if you’d change your mind about the party,” he says softly. 

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s not really my thing, ya’know? Besides, I have Mr Byrnes class to study for. He keeps talking about a test that isn’t even in the study plan and it’s making me paranoid that he’s going to surprise us with a pop quiz one of these days,” you ramble as he listens attentively. 

“C’mon, it’s just one night. Just have some fun. And I promise that I’ll watch out for you, okay? Make sure things don’t get out of hand or let anyone force you to do anything crazy,” he says.

“What do you say?” he asks, eyes hopeful and smiling as wide and bright as ever.

Of course, you said yes. 

How could you refuse when he had asked so nicely?

So here you were, walking up to a large house set in the corner of an upper-class residential area that had college students pouring in and out of every entrance possible with Chae, Nayeon and Jimin. You honestly had no idea whose house this was, or who even organised this party. An act of stupidity on your part you realised, because now you had no choice but to lean on your friends for safety. 

Oh well, Hoseok did promise to watch out for you, you thought as you secretly smiled to yourself.

Not secretive enough it seems as Chae tells you, “With that look on your face, I hope you’re actually excited to go to this party for the sake of having fun.”

You reply with a simple “Sure,” as your group turns into the neat little pathway leading up to the front door.

“Whether Y/n’s excited or not, I sure as hell am. God, I can’t wait to get fucked up tonight. It’s been too long,” Nayeon chirps next to you, much to Chae's chagrin.

“I’m begging you two,” Chase addresses both Nayeon and Jimin as she says, “don’t do anything you’ll regret in the morning. I’m sick of babysitting you two,” with a scoff. The perpetrators merely giggle at her as they spread out separately into the dancing crowd in the living room-turned-dancefloor.

“C’mon, let’s go out to the backyard. It’s way too early to be partying this hard,” Chase says and leads you by your hand. 

As soon as you step foot out of the house, you’re relieved to be able to breathe without the entailing smell of sweat and alcohol in the air. Towards the corner of the porch, leaning against the railing with red solo cups at hand are Jungkook and Taehyung talking with two other guys you don’t recognise. 

They’re both tall and attractive, you’re quick to notice. While one is more built all-around, the other has wide shoulders leading to a tapered waist.

“Hey guys!” Chase chirps at them. “Meet Y/n. Y/n, this is Namjoon and this is Jin,” she gestures to the built one and the one with wide shoulders in order. You greet them pleasantly before stepping aside to stand next to Taehyung while Chae rants to them about Nayeon and Jimin.

Suddenly, you feel a poke of a finger in your side. “Y/n….you’re at a college party without a drink. Tch, tch, tch,” Taehyung chastises you as he leans over. You can already smell the faint lingering of alcohol on his breath. “Sorry, I’m just really not looking to get shitfaced tonight,” you weakly say. 

“Shut up, one drink never hurt anyone!” he retorts with a laugh. “I’ll be right back,” he says and before you could refuse, he’s already headed towards the kitchen indoors, presumably to get you a drink. 

In his absence, you notice Jungkook quietly nursing his own drink next to you. You shift your attention away from him and start looking around the backyard. 

Your eyes are searching, here, there and everywhere looking for a specific face. Where’s Hoseok? You want to text him, asking him if he’s here already, but you’ve never really texted him before. Would it be too obvious if you were to start now? In your train of overthinking, you fail to notice that the boy next to you has shifted to face you. He’s studying you, your actions, but you fail to notice. 

“Missing your loverboy?” the voice from next to you breaks you out of your reverie.

You look at Jungkook and dumbly say, “Huh?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, and you curse the heavens for making him as handsome as he looks when he does so. “I asked if you’re looking for Hoseok hyung,” he says. 

“Maybe.”

“Hmm, figured as much,” he shrugs. At this, you raise a curious brow at him.

“Uhm, duh, you look like you lost your puppy or something. Huhu, where’s my boyfie, huhu,” he mimics you in a high-pitched voice. 

You look at him in disgust before saying, “Ugh, I have never and will never use the word boyfie.” It’s a weak attempt at a comeback, you already know. “Aha, but you don’t deny that you’re looking for Hoseok hyung!” he says with a grin. 

You let out a scoff at that and say, “Okay, so what? What’s it to do with you? Ever heard of minding your own business?” Your tone is harsh, but you couldn’t help the shy smile that crawled on your face.

He looks like he has more to say, probably to tease you, but is cut off by Taehyung crying out “Children! Children! Please settle down, the party’s only just started. I can’t handle y'all bickering so soon.” You roll your eyes at Jungkook and turn away from him, making you miss out on the boyish grin he sends your way before he turns away himself to tune into Chae’s conversation with Namjoon and Jin. 

Taehyung waltzes up to you and flourishes a red solo cup to you with a proud look on his face. “Ta-da! A drink for Her Highness,” he dramatically says with an even more dramatic bow. 

You giggle as you accept the drink. “Thank you, good sir,” you play along. Taehyung lets out a pleasant sigh and leans forward against the railing. His sudden silence hints to you that he might have something on his mind.

You don’t bother asking yet though, comfortable with the lack of conversation between you, and instead listening to Namjoon and Jin telling Chae about their disastrous search for a roommate. Jungkook isn’t in sight anymore so you assume he’s gone back into the house.

“You guys don’t understand the number of crazy people we’ve met so far. We interviewed this one kid, a comp-sci student, who asked if we’d be okay if he were to use our storage room to keep all his blow-up “life-sized sleep dolls”. Like, what the fuck does that even mean?” Namjoon says exasperatedly. Jin shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink before saying, “I don’t think any of us here want to know what that means,” making the whole group laugh. 

“Maybe you guys should consider having him around. I want to start a wager that he has a doll of Danny Devito,” you giggle. Jin nearly chokes on his drink at that.

Namjoon is thoroughly entertained and says “You’re right! And when Christmas rolls around, we won’t have to get a damn Christmas tree. We can just spice up Danny.”

“A Danny Devito Christmas Tree?” Chae asks with a grin.

“A Danny DeviTree.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Jin says.

You all nod our heads in a silly agreement.

“TO DANNY DEVITREE!” we cheer together and take large gulps of our drinks.

“Hey, didn’t you say you wanted to find a different place to live? Somewhere closer to campus right?” Chae asks you with a nudge of her elbow.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that,” you reply. You turn to Namjoon and Jin to explain “The place I’m at now is too far away from campus, so I’m thinking about moving somewhere closer so that I don’t have to stress too much about the distance before leaving for classes.”

“Well hey, our place is less than a block from campus. If you’re interested, we can talk another day,” Jin says excitedly. “But the DeviTree arrangement will have to wait, it seems,” Namjoon adds with a grin. Your eyes widen with excitement and you agree to meet another day to discuss it.

While you’re busy exchanging numbers with Namjoon, Chae suddenly notices Taehyung’s silence and asks him “What’s got you thinking so deeply? Looking so serious doesn’t suit you” she says poking her tongue out teasingly at him. 

This brings Taehyung to stand straight and point at your chest area. “It’s weird you know,” he says. 

Your tit?

“My tit?” you ask aloud.

“Huh?” he asks back and realises what he’s pointing at. “What the - no! You idiot, not your tit. Your tit is fine. I meant you in general.” 

You and the others can’t control your giggles as you prod him even more, “What’s so weird about me?”

“It’s weird how you can’t seem to get along with Jungkook. He’s literally the nicest out of all of us. And you’re nice too.”

This catches you off guard as the laughter suddenly lulls down.

“What’s that supposed to mean? He’s always getting on my nerves on purpose. He’s such an idiot,” you say along with a quick apology towards Chae. She smiles strangely at you while Namjoon and Jin watch the conversation play out in silence.

“See that’s the thing, he’s never trying to get on your nerves on purpose. You just seem to always get annoyed by him all on your own,” Taehyung refutes.

“He’s right. Not to sound like I’m trying to stand up for my brother too much, but it is weird how much you can’t stand him. He doesn’t hate you the way you hate him,” Chae says the last part with a strange tone in her voice. “But it’s like you don’t even want to give him a chance to be closer with you.”

You suddenly feel cornered by the duo. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe we’re just wired into different frequencies or something. Somehow, everything he does annoys me so much. God help me if I knew why,” you try to brush it off and take a large gulp of your drink. 

Are you getting a bit tipsy right now? Probably. Eh, whatever - you think as you chug the rest of the drink.

Of course in your heart, you feel struck by the accusation. Is it true? Have you been too harsh with Jungkook?

This time, you knew Chae and Taehyung weren’t referring to the textbook incident. Nope, they were talking about your overall behaviour after that. You were always harsh and short-tempered around him, sometimes, oftentimes even, mean. 

You were never usually mean, so much so that you could recognise when you were being so, especially with Jungkook. But could you blame yourself? He was practically asking for it.

“Maybe, it’s because you like-like him,” Taehyung says, making you choke on your drink. 

Namjoon and Jin are chuckling into their cups when he says that while he stands there calmly with Chae waiting for you to finish your coughing fit.

“What the FUCK! Like-like him??” you let out an emotionless laugh and say “what are we, five? Like-like him, pfft! As if.”

You’re desperate for this conversation to end now. 

“Why? It’s not that ridiculous. It would be kind of nice if my baby brother and my best friend were to date,” Chae says with a smile and a shrug. “Besides, you know what they say - there’s a thin line between love and hate…”

Sometimes, the differences between the Jeon twins shone starkly like day and night. Jungkook who loved to spend his evenings cruising around town on his motorcycle; Chae who turned down getting her own car that their parents wanted to give her because of how traumatised she was from her experience at driver’s ed (nothing serious, it was just bad vibes with an instructor who fell asleep in the passenger seat while she was behind the wheel). Jungkook who always had a glint in his eye, craving for an adrenaline filled adventure like rock climbing or hiking. More extreme, skydiving and cliff jumping during summer breaks. And Chae, who enjoyed completely and entirely, simple hangouts with friends at a cafe or a club, and especially at home. 

As different as they were, the Jeon twins were as inseparable as former womb mates ever could be.

Like that one time Chae and you had a sleepover at their place for a Barbie animated movie marathon before your group was set to go watch the new Barbie live-action movie in cinemas. Even though he had all the means to simply lock himself up in his room to save himself from the cheesy squeals and giggles he was promised to hear from the two of you for the rest of the night, Jungkook not only joined you two for the whole run, enthusiastically reacting along to the characters and funny lines, he even went out of the way to make the three of you hot cocoa drinks with marshmallows and volunteered to go out and buy more snacks once they had run out. 

A memory that still makes you chuckle is how the entire group showed up to the movie dressed in theme to the nines (Jimin and Taehyung as the Diamond Castle dogs of course). And yes, Jungkook too. While Chae unsurprisingly dressed up as Bibble, Jungkook retired his punk jewellery to dress up as Aidan from The Magic of Pegasus.

Chae was none the wiser, fiercely caring for her brother. The memory of Jungkook and Taehyung once getting locked in a frat party closet once and noone being able to find them bcs their phones were with Nayeon, and the party was too loud to hear them shouting to be let out. Chae was worried sick around the 5 hour mark, contemplating calling the police and ranting and generally being out of sorts. Thank god Jimin needed to throw up and rushed to the nearest closet and forced it open. The gratification on the boys’ face at being freed didn’t last long before Jimin got puke all over them.

Nonetheless, Chae was utterly relieved to see her brother alive and well, rushing to hug him regardless of the gunk covering his shirt.

For as darling as you found Chae and as insufferable as you found Jungkook, you sure did hang out with the two a lot; the most out of everyone in the group. It didn’t go unnoticed how he was a whopping 5 '8 and was incredibly self-sufficient, perfectly able to say no to his sister's invitations if he wanted to. 

The thing was, Chae brought him along everywhere, and he followed along anyway.

These are a few of the memories that you’ve collected since getting to know Chae, and by default Jungkook too. The Jeon twins truly made for an odd pair, but they were made for each other like peanut butter and jelly. 

You’re reflecting on these memories in your tipsy haze as you’re almost touched for a moment that Chae just called you her best friend, given that you’ve only known each other for a little over half a year now.

Almost.

“Hah! No offence Chae, but there is no way I could ever like, or love, your brother.”

Of course, the universe is not on your side today (has it ever been?), because it’s at that exact moment that the man you’d been on the lookout for the whole night strides onto the patio towards you little group. 

“Oh shit, Y/n loves Jungkook? Then, I’m out of here,” Hoseok says with a teasing lilt in his voice and the insinuation of what he says makes your hearts beat faster. 

“NO! I said I don’t like him. Or love him. C’mon Hoseok, I want to dance. It’s getting stale out here,” you say as you giggle and drag him by his hand into the house through the swarm of bodies. 

You’re well able to notice your friends’ teasing comments following you into the house, but not the pair of doe eyes that were fixated on you from the inner entrance to the porch area as you pass them.

Currently, you were bouncing along with Hoseok in the room full of bodies, barely able to decipher anything other than the music booming through the space. Oh, and his hands are on your hips.

Fuck, you think to yourself. That boy has got you wrapped around his pretty little finger, literally, and he doesn’t even know it.

Or maybe he does? You don’t know. You don’t know anything right now. You’re so out of it. 

The full weight of the drink Taehyung had given earlier had finally hit you 20 minutes ago, and ever since then, you’ve been daringly thrusting your hips and grinding against Hoseok in tune to the beat of the songs playing. You’re not sure if he’s drunk himself since you didn’t see him ingest anything since you met up with him on the porch, but the way he’s grinding back onto you, gripping your hips possessively and whispering sweet nothings into your ear suggest that he might be. 

“Y/n…” he breathes out. “You look so cute tonight. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I wanted to. I thought about it, but didn’t say it.”

You let out a giggle and say “That’s okay. Thanks. You look really good tonight too.”

A minute passes of you two continuing to dance when he suddenly stops and motions you to do the same. “Can I- Can I ask you something?” he starts. The suddenness of his actions sobers you a little and you merely nod at him. “What is it?”

He seems hesitant to continue and it looks like it’s really eating him up. “What is it? You can ask me anything,” you encourage him.

“Okay, uhm, well, is there- fuck, okay,” he says before clearing his throat and looking at you pointedly. 

“Is there anything going on between you and Jungkook?” he asks.

“What the hell, no!” you’re quick to refute.

His eyes widened at your response. “No? Are you sure? Are you 100% positive on that?” 

You can’t help but let out a chuckle at that.

This is so ridiculous. 

“No, Hoseok, there’s nothing going on between me and that brat Jeon Jungkook. Okay? The others were just joking around. There’s nothing happening between us. Is that what you wanted to know?” 

He visibly brightens up and says “Well yeah, because I wanted to know if what I’m about to do next would land me a punch on the face or not,” with a laugh. He comes closer to you and wraps his arms around your waist with a grin forming on his face.

“What are you going to do?” you ask, your breath getting shallower. Your heart is pounding so fast you hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he says.

And when he leans down and brings his lips to yours in a searing kiss, you’re unable to think of anything else anymore. Fuck Jungkook. Fuck everything.

All you think about is him.

Hoseok.

Hoseok.

Hoseok.

He’s such a great kisser, lips so soft and careful yet bold. While your tongues are having a passionate battle for dominance, with you losing quickly, he brings his arms to wrap tightly around your body. “Y/n…” he moans in between and you swear you’ve never heard a sound more sweeter. You’re moaning too as you bring your hands up to run through his hair and down the back of his neck.

The pair of you part after what feels like both forever and finite. “Fuck, you’re something else,” he says breathlessly. You chuckle at that, out of breath yourself. 

You take a moment to just stare at his face and your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest. He’s taking the time to look back at you too. You see his eyes dart around your face - to your eyes, nose, hair tucked behind your ear, your lips. 

His face is lit up by the glare of the colourful lights decorating the ceiling and something else that is purely him.

Hoseok.

Sober-you would never find the balls to admit your feelings to him, but drunk-you could. 

“Hoseok…”

“Yes?”

“I-I like you.”

.

.

.

“I like you too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. How could I not?” he says with a chuckle before he closes the gaps between your lips again.

Just as you think you’re about to write a blurb on the bliss of Hoseok’s soft lips, a voice clears causing the two of you to break away. Jungkook appears by your side with a furrow on his face looking as uncomfortable as ever.

“Jungkook? What are you doing here?” you ask, flustered and unable to mask your disappointment over his interruption. He isn’t quick to reply, opting to glance at the close proximity between Hoseok and you first. “I need you to come with me,” he replies gruffly. When you don’t move an inch he adds, “Now,”.

“Uhm, well, I’m kinda occupied at the moment so unless it’s important - HEY!” you exclaim as he grabs ahold of your hand and tries to drag you away from Hoseok. Hoseok steps in and tries to reason with Jungkook. “Hey man, you heard her, she can’t go and it’s not cool of you to drag her”

“It IS important!” Jungkook says. He’s got a strong grip on you, and even though you’re not afraid of him at that moment, for you know he’s gentler than he seems, you are annoyed by him.

You smack on his hand that’s encasing your arm and start yelling “Jungkook, you big OAF, I’m not going anywhere with YOU!” He ignores you and continues dragging you away from Hoseok. “You’re not even telling me what’s so goddamned IMPORTANT!” 

There truly are consequences to chugging down a drink that Taehyung, of all people made for you.

You are drunk. And what is it that drunk people infamously do? Stupid things. 

You are drunk and irrational and Jungkook is still dragging you away. You do the only thing that your brain can comprehend doing in that moment.

You bring your stiletto boots covered leg up and bring it down hard on Jungkook’s heavy black stompers. You know, the ones that he stood in-line for 3 hours to buy on its release day that cost a whopping $800. The ones that he carefully polishes every week so that they look shiny and new always.

Well, from where you’re standing - yep, standing, not walking..because Jungkook has stopped walking - his shoes do look as good as new.

Except for the ugly 3 inch scratch that runs down the side of the right one where your stiletto just met it.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. You’ve gone too far.

Is it possible to hear complete and utter silence in a room full of sweaty and drunk college kids with Gasolina blaring in the background? Because you’re experiencing it right this moment. Oh no wait, it just changed to You Broke Me First by Tate McCrae. Nice. In any other given scenario, you’d laugh at the irony of it.

But you’re not laughing now. Neither is Jungkook. You’re holding your breath and Jungkook's wide set shoulders slowly turn around to look at you. 

He peers down at his now ruined shoe before slowly dragging his eyes over your figure and meeting your eyes. His mouth, usually positioned as a lopsided grin, was now set straight and silent, his eyes hard with an illegible emotion.

It takes a couple of moments for you to snap back to your senses and you’re about to open your mouth to throw out apologies, but Jungkook beats you to it.

“Chae’s sick in the toilet. Go check up on her and let her know I’m waiting for her outside,” he says lowly and releases his grip on your hand. 

You’re wide-eyed as you open your mouth to respond, “Jungkook, I’m so-”

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why is it so difficult for you to think about other people?” He cuts you off loudly. You’re rendered speechless, his words striking you unexpectedly. In all your encounters of Jungkook irritating you, leaving you to retort harshly, never once has he raised his voice or gotten angry with you. But now he was. 

Totally and utterly angry.

You see it in the way he’s actively trying, but failing, to control his tone and breathing, and the step that he takes away from you. This is new ground for your dynamic, you have no idea what to say to him other than to apologise.

“You parade around feeling so entitled about everything, why don’t you make yourself useful for once and go help Chae?

“But Jungko-”

“Save it. We’ll call it even for your textbooks. Can you just go now?”

“Wait please, I’m sor-”

“JUST GO!”

He doesn’t wait for your next response and turns to head out the door, roughly pushing off the drunk and sweaty crowd that got in his way. All that’s left is for you to stare at his retreating back as you stomach the dread rising in you.

Congratulations, Miss Kim Y/n! You have officially pissed Jeon Jungkook off!

(∩｀-´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

[ropebunnykant]

Apologies for the incoming essay... Re. Kant and choices and him choosing to involve Style - look, nobody's out here trying to say Kant's eligible for best friend of the year! But there does seem to be a lot of retroactive woobifying of Style, attempts to exempt him from the current tangled web, etc., when, lest we forget, he agreed to try and seduce a man FOR A CAR. He then proceeded to stalk said man, and to disrupt and exploit a grief counselling session FOR A CAR. Of course Kant shouldn't have involved him (but when your options are limited and you're desperate, you're not always thinking straight), but it was Style's own a) automotive greed and b) bruised ego (after their vehicular run-in) that got him where he is today. It was a bargain that he himself suggested - it wasn't even Kant's idea! Let's be honest, he could've just said nah mate, you're alright, and what could Kant have done about it? Style is not untouched by the taint! And that's okay - let him be messy too (the fact that he'd already had a couple of fraught encounters with Fadel even before Kant introduced them was a deliberate decision on the writers' part)! He had his own agenda going into this which he'd need to apologise for regardless of the added assassin shenanigans, and once he's in the know, he becomes as responsible as Kant for what happens next - they're both faced with the same choice: confess in order to try and keep the brothers out of jail, or stay schtum, despite their misgivings, out of fear for their own lives. And they both chose the same path. All four of them have been lying to each other from the get-go, for multiple complex reasons, some maybe more valid or understandable than others, but point is that none of them are squeaky clean and ALL of them bear at least some responsibility for the colossal shitshow that they now find themselves in! And that's what makes it good TV!

(I'd also like to point out something I find interesting, which is that Kant's rhetoric with Style has always been about looking out for number one - he tells Style he's doing it to clear his record, get those charges off his back, outside the restaurant he talks about having to prioritise saving your own skin over everything else, even though that makes him sound a bit cold...but he's not doing it for himself, is he? He's doing it for Babe. He's doing it because of the repercussions that would fall on his little brother's head if anything were to happen to Kant, whether that be jail time or an early grave (though I'm not saying he'd be a-okay with either regardless!). Babe has been his driving force the entire show (as yours and others' beautiful meta has explored) - Kant does the OPPOSITE of prioritise himself, and has done so since his parents died, and that's why HE'S in this mess in the first place. But, to the best of my recollection, he never invokes Babe when he's trying to win over Style, and I can't decide if that's because it's a line he won't cross (though he did sort of cross it when using Babe as an excuse at karaoke, or does that not count cos it was a lie?), or because he truly doesn't see himself as self-sacrificing so wouldn't even think to frame it in those terms to someone else. Or a combo of both!)

I think part of the reason the Kant slander (by which I absolutely don't mean legit critical analysis or taking the well-earned piss out of him!) bothers me is because I'm conscious that First is, at least to a degree, aware of the negativity (and tagged into some of it because ppl suck), which is why every time I look online he seems to be apologising on his character's behalf. And yes, it is in jest, but, knowing he's an inveterate people pleaser, I also get the sneaking suspicion it's also partly genuine, which makes me sad.

yeah, aaaabsolutely agree with everything you’ve said here. like i think the argument about style has more merit too it, but at the same time im still sat here thinking, what was kant’s other option? because bison gives him this stipulation: if you want us to date, you have to find someone for fadel. and kant cant just cut his losses and say okay, then i guess we won’t date. he has to get close, he has to get this information. so he has to involve someone else, retroactively. and we can argue about if he should have told style the full truth from the beginning, but not only do we see the captain specifically tell him not to do that, but i think kant is well aware it would not have worked if he did. style would have blown the operation out of the water way too soon, if he even agreed in the first place which the odds of him doing without having some investment into fadel would have been very slim! like it sucks, but realistically, what else could kant have done that would have allowed him to do what he needed to? what other choice did he have?

and like you said, style is far from innocent! none of them are innocent in this! thats the whole point! and that’s the big thing, too, because it’s meant to be this complicated messy thing. they subbed in the women from taming in the shrew for assassins because it allows for this intense sort of courtship that was brought on by misogyny in the play, while also allowing us to understand that fadel and bison aren’t innocent, either. that they’re all fucked up and messy in their own ways.

and yeah, i think getting into the babe of it all just isn’t something kant is willing to do for the most part. i think he tries to keep babe out of it as much as possible, but using him as an excuse to get out of there was the most realistic thing he could do, especially when bison has already seen that protective brother side of him. and i also think that kant just doesn’t view himself highly in general. he doesn’t think of himself as selfless or self sacrificing because he knows the awful things hes had to do in order to keep babe safe and in his custody - and while maybe for other people knowing it’s for babe would help his case, he doesn’t feel that way. because obviously he wouldn’t change it, but it doesn’t mean he liked doing any of it, that he likes the lengths he’ll go. especially when i think he thinks if babe knew, he wouldn’t like any of it, either. babe already didn’t like just the lying to bison. can you imagine what he’d think if he knew kant had drugged him once? if he knew all of it was built on a false start? kant probably thinks babe would hate him for it all as much as he hates himself for it.

and as for the first of it all, i do hope despite the media literacy some people lack in it all that he knows he did a fucking incredible job with kant. i say this as someone who has been making detailed posts about first’s acting since the eclipse, but i genuinely think this is his strongest and most nuanced performance. hes made kant so, so clear and easy to understand if you’re paying attention, and i love him so dearly for it.

[princecosmosanon]

Suzukka/Zukki Arranged Marriage AU Omegaverse Regression fic

Regression: A trope where a character, often after dying in an awful and tragic way, is brought back in time with their memories before the worst begins and does their best to fix what went wrong.

Zuko, as an Omega gifted to the Southern Water Tribe to be Sokka’s mate, he struggled to integrate into their society. After a few years, however, without warning, the Fire Nation broke their treaty with the Tribe and killed everyone, including Zuko. So when Zuko wakes up just after receiving a facial scar from his Agni Kai against his father, he determines to never let what happened before come to pass.

This fic will be told from Zuko’s POV. It will also have language barrier shenanigans, which is something I’ve wanted to write for a long while.

Content Warnings include: racism, xenophobia, canonical child abuse, violence, sexual harassment, and general omegaverse trends and tropes. There will also be moments when Zuko, in his second life and still as a minor, remembers details of his past life’s adult sexual experiences. Later there will also be some teenage sexual exploration as well as explicit sexual situations, referenced and full on out, between adults.

In his first life, Zuko was not banished after his Agni Kai, instead he was stripped of his previous princely duties and shuffled into marriage training. A treaty, a promise, had been worked out between the Fire Lord and the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe; the firstborn Omega of the Fire Nation royal family would be wed to one of Hakoda’s children, and in return they would stay out of the Fire Lord’s war and thus earn the Fire Nation’s protection.

Zuko struggled with his change in role, often ignoring his teachers or being obstinate, though not enough to draw his father’s wrath ever again. By the time he’s sent off to be married at the age of 20, he has accepted his role grudgingly.

Zuko was never quite able to make a good connection with his new mate or the Southern Water Tribe. He learned so little of their language in that time, Sokka being rather cold towards him, and Sokka’s Beta wife, Suki, tolerating his presence. Zuko often stayed only in his room, except after a time he felt compelled to try to give Sokka a child and fulfill his duties as an Omega.

Then, one day, he was suddenly locked into his room and refused to let out. It took some fighting and awkwardness, but eventually Zuko heard—the Fire Nation had broken their treaty, or, they were claiming the SWT had broken it, at least. Zuko was certain it was a lie spread to defile his homeland’s honor, but before long he learned the truth.

One night, Sokka and Suki unlocked Zuko’s door. Zuko could only barely understand what was going on, and he was scared as Suki led him away into the dark, cold night. They had only barely left the outskirts of the village when the fight broke out; this time it was clear the Fire Nation was invading with intent to kill. Suki tried to get Zuko into a small skiff, tried to ensure their mutual survival, but they were cut off on their escape route by Azula.

Zuko tried to reason with his sister, did everything he could to talk her down, but in her eyes he only saw wrath and… pity. Then she killed Suki and, without further hesitation, also Zuko, saying all the while she should have known he would have turned against his homeland. Zuko died screaming while engulfed in blue flame.

Then Zuko woke up. Again. Like he had at the age of 13. His face in agony and his mind reeling from memories of his past life. This is where the fic truly begins.

Once again, he was brought back to the moment his whole life changed. At first, Zuko wanted to believe it was all a terrible dream, but when he heard his father once again repeat what his fate would be now that he was stripped of his place in line for the throne, he couldn’t bury his face in the sand.

Dread filled him and for the first week of his convalescence he only knew fear and misery. But then, one night while Zuko was dreaming fitfully, he had a thought. What if… he did things differently? What if… he set a course for fate that would ensure not only his own safety, but that of the people he had grown if not to love then at least to respect?

And so, Zuko Does Things Differently.

He takes all the knowledge he retained from his previous life and followed through with his classes to perfection, earning the praise of his marriage tutors and their firm approval. He snuck in lessons on SWT language, doing his best to supplement what he knew with all else he could find on it to ensure a swifter, smoother integration process into the tribe.

He also finds an uneasy friendship with his sister once again; with himself no longer in position to vie for the crown she finds his company quaint at first. But he listens to her, really listens, as she eventually begins to unload her stress about her situation onto him, often in little bits meant to pick at his own inadequacies… but he now sees the truth in the matter. Azula believes in securing the best future for the Fire Nation at all costs. He can respect her for that even if he thinks her loyalties are misguided. Still, he finds himself re-growing an old fondness for her and believes she starts to reciprocate.

And then, at 16, Zuko made a request of his father. He asked to go live among the Tribe early. At first his father was resistant but when Zuko spoke to Azula, he convinced her he only wished to ensure he had a proper grasp on their “enemy” before he was fully entrenched in their politics. And Azula, after years of Zuko lending an out-stretched hand, offers her own in the form of convincing their father it’s the perfect way to further gain the SWT’s loyalty and trust.

It helps convince her, perhaps, that Zuko suggested also sending back letters; ciphered in codes only the two of them understand, so he can let her know if anything traitorous is at hand…

So it’s settled. Zuko sails south, accompanied by a translator he only partially needs, and is brought once again before the Southern Water Tribe. But things are different, almost immediately.

Whereas in his past life Sokka either ignored Zuko or, at best, treated him indifferently, now he is openly hostile. Young, angry, and unaccepting of the situation—the reality of his future marriage to an omega not if his choosing—Sokka makes Zuko’s first day in the SWT as unwelcoming as possible.

It doesn’t help that Sokka’s younger sister, Katara, is just as vicious of not more than she was in his previous life. And Chief Hakoda, who had at least been welcoming, does not have time to deal with a child during one of the SWT’s worst fishing seasons in decades.

Zuko finds himself isolated much like his last few precious days alive in his last life. And for a time, Zuko thinks maybe he was foolish to ever think he could change anything. It’s clear he will never truly be one of the SWT and he no longer belongs in the Fire Nation either. But still, Zuko keeps his temper in check, knowing his old tantrums never worked out before. He remains polite and as calm as he can, until at last, one tribesman, Bato, takes pity on him.

Bato does what no one ever did for Zuko before; he explains the usual comings and goings of the Tribe, their culture and history, and he explains the truth behind Sokka’s mother…

Bato is also the one to suggest Zuko try sparring with Sokka during his warrior training. At first, Zuko is certain that’s a bad idea. He wasn’t allowed to train in weaponry anymore after he was declared only fit for marriage in his previous and current lives, but he retains more knowledge of his swords and firebending then he did in the past so… he tries. And finds that Sokka actually enjoys the challenge as they fight. It’s exhilarating for Zuko, too, who had thought this part of his life over forever.

For a time, things seems fine between him and Sokka and Zuko is still learning so much about the Tribe. Then comes a trip to Kyoshi Island, which Zuko is brought along for so he can learn more about the Tribe’s trade culture. It’s there that Sokka becomes distant again, almost mean and aggressive once more, and Zuko learns why. This is where Suki lives. Sokka’s Beta partner from his previous life.

Zuko can’t believe he almost forgot Suki! She usually ignored him in his last lifetime, but she was a constant presence. A reminder that Zuko was only meant to be a physical proof of a contract between nations, who also was tasked with birthing Sokka’s future heir. But Suki was Sokka’s true love, even if he hadn’t shied away from Zuko’s bed.

Zuko wonders in this life… will things be different? Sokka only met Zuko in their last life after he and Suki were together, but with Zuko already a physical presence, did that change things for Sokka and Suki?

At one point, while sorting through his thoughts, Zuko accidentally traps himself in a grotto where he went to hide and think on his plans. He didn’t realize it was the place Sokka and Suki would go to explore their still budding sexual feelings; and thus he’s forced to endure a really awkward blow job and fingering experiment.

It’s also when Zuko decides he won’t be in their way; he never had Sokka’s love before and he won’t steal his happiness this life either. Zuko confronts Sokka the next day when they get a moment alone, and he encourages Sokka to be with who he wants to be. At first Sokka is suspicious but that fades when Zuko explains he expects their marriage of convenience to be just that; Sokka is free to be with whom ever he wishes as long as he also tries to fulfill their role in securing an heir.

It’s a logical agreement, one that Sokka is happy about and Zuko can live with. Then Sokka actually introduced Suki to Zuko, already having explained their agreement to her, and thus she insists on becoming Zuko’s friend for being so understanding. Zuko is shocked, she never had anything to do with him before the night she tried to help him escape on the day of their death, but he finds himself happy for the change.

And thus, time moves on and Zuko grows more familiar to the Tribe. And all this time he has been sending letter after letter to Azula, telling her of his situation, the truth in ciphers just for her eyes. He never hid the Tribe’s contempt for him in his writings, but as time goes on he allows himself to remain truthful; they do not hate him anymore and he has become familiar in their eyes. Perhaps one of them, but he assures Azula he remains faithful to the Fire Nation above all else. He can only pray she believes him.

When the time comes for the wedding, Zuko is younger than he was on his first marriage night. Sokka has only just turned 18, Zuko having already reached that age half a year prior, but they’re willing to move forward with it, both having come to a mutual understanding. The Chief gives his blessing. Katara storms off in a rage. But Sokka and Zuko are content with their lot. Suki is also there; she’s set to marry Sokka less officially three months later, after enough time has passed for Sokka and Zuko to share a heat that they are assured will surely result in a child. (Zuko has never had it in him to suggest it’s possible he won’t ever bear a child; his previous life had been barren, despite how they tried again and again.)

The next morning it’s revealed Katara had brought back a stranger who seems to have been locked away inside of an iceberg. The boy is energetic and strange in a way Zuko isn’t sure how to read, but he doesn’t seem dangerous. He’s kind and obviously smitten with Katara. It’s cute.

When it’s time for Suki to marry Sokka Zuko expects to be sent to a separate room, possibly even the one that was his in the past, but instead he is welcomed to stay. At first, it seems they only want to have one another while he watches, but in time he is also brought into their bed, and Zuko has no thought beyond how this possibility never even crossed his mind.

After about six months of being married, and three with Suki as well, Zuko is surprised once again; Azula, for the first time, has written him back. She wants to see him, she writes, and now that he is wed, she is officially in-laws to the SWT’s leadership, so surely they can host their beloved Omega’s sister for a time? Zuko is worried and perplexed. Azula isn’t asking, she’s insisting on coming. She also did not use a cipher that he can figure out. It seems she wrote her letter exactly as if she has nothing to hide. Or else, she doesn’t have anything other than the direct contents that she wants Zuko to know.

For the first time in a while, Zuko dreads…

Azula’s visit is met with as much fanfare as Zuko can drum up. He knows she expects to be treated like the crown princess she is, so he convinces Sokka to have Hakoda pull out all the stops for her arrival. And of course, Azula arrives a day before she originally stated, trying to throw them off, but Zuko knows his sister better than to expect less than that.

He doesn’t know what other curveball life plans on throwing at him, but now with Azula in the midst of the Southern Water Tribe, with Sokka and Suki seeing him as equal partners, and with Zuko now fully entrenched in his role within the Tribe, he knows he won’t just die easily this time. He has people to help protect, a land and a culture he wants to see thrive. Come what may, he will never again let himself die a hopeless, helpless death.

[cosmicfelines]

Have I told you about my sapphic demon OCs because I want to talk to you about my precious demon lesbians 💕 that I have been designing for a few years now

They're the cutest and they love each other so much 🥺

Sadly they don't have names, that's the one thing that I struggle the most with my OCs I have so many of them but they don't have names 😞😔

Also I my headcanon is that demons have no notion of kisses so they express their love through nuzzling, headbutting and forehead touching 🥺, they're also shapeshifters so ALL designs are canon

I call this Au the Older sister!au

The one on the left (which I'm inclined to name Byeol?? Byole??? Kareivis??? Karys? Bellator???????? Help how do you name stuff???????) She/they came to be as plot bunny from the Devil May Cry franchise, I really like the designs of some the demons but world building wise...., The idea was that Sparta could have had another child with another demon before Mundus Invasion... That he abandoned when he betrayed him, separated the two realms from interacting and stayed on Earth, so yeah she has some daddy and abandonment issues but she's from the line of Sparda everyone has daddy and abandonment issues :' D

The initial idea was that she is kinda salty that Dante and Vergil exist and that they were given the Rebellion and Yamato when they were supposed to be hers. And that her papa Sparda left her dad Stolas (yeah she has two dads demons are sexless and genderless) when she was still in her early teens without saying anything or communicating for thousands of years just to go and mate with a human woman (and any other humans before her) wed her and have children with her essentially replacing her and dad!!!..... Yeah I realized that is kind of like Thor Ragnarok with Hela, Thor and Loki but that's kind of the point when I thought about it

Here are her dads

They had a nice marriage and relationship but trying to raise a child during Mundus war and reign put a lot of pressure on them, they barely where allowed to see each other or their daughter, said daughter was being trained to be a soldier alongside other young demon teens by Mundus orders, ethical debates on what should they do about humanity being massacred vs not wanting to suffer Mundus wrath, they were very stressed and it all came to a head when Sparda sealed the realms, Stolas... was devastated to say the least but he put his all in raising his daughter correctly and reassuring her that ''he did loved her so very much'' and ''no, he was not leaving her'', the aftermath of Sparda's actions fell on them and it got to the point where in present times she is known as 'Stolas' daughter' and their relation to Sparda is only truly known to those who were around at that time and only spread to the newer generations in whispers, guaranteeing that no one in the human realm even knew Sparda had children before his rebellion for talking about is considered taboo, but that would be a story for another time

She and Stolas had to go through a lot of issues that they mostly resolved over the centuries, until the whole marrying Eva and having the twins unearthed and reopened old wounds and doubts and problems, and then Sparda died which left them feeling empty and hollow...

So she decides to get them back and also inform her little brothers and nephew that she exists, chaos and shenanigans ensue.

How much drama all of this causes is still being decided part of me wants a smooth reunion but as someone on Twitter told me "It would not be the Sparda family without family drama" and I kind of agree, maybe she kind of doesn't like them being half human or maybe even just humans as a whole for "stealing" her papa.

Either way once everything settles down and they sit down and talk (because she is the only Sparda that went to therapy and has all the brain cells... most of the time) she lives with them for a while and introduces to them both her dad and her wife/girlfriend

Alternative/beta design of le wife, she was the one on the right in the first picture (Kígyó??? Veleni??? Mereg??? Jari??? Madhagyo????) Goes by she/they as well, very supportive of her gf and willing to live in the human realm so she can get to know her brothers better and be by her side, those two have a whole love story and I already have domestic ideas when they decide to live in the human realm.

Other drawings I have made of them, one of their young-ish designs and general body shape

If this gets attention and/or some asks come I will elaborate on the finer points of this AU

[katierosefun]

well, even though literally no one asked, am i going to do a whole analysis on how the red album is also lowkey about tcw? sure. sh, let me indulge 12/13 year old me.

state of grace:

our wonderful opening track. the lyrics “just twin fire signs / four blue eyes”—from this line alone, i think a lot about anakin and ahsoka and obi-wan, just because what color are their eyes? blue. check and mate.

but on a more serious level: “and i never saw you coming / and i’ll never be the same” speaks to how each of these characters’ lives were interrupted by the presence of the other. obi-wan certainly didn’t expect anakin to come into his life, and i doubted anakin ever expected ahsoka to come into his life.

“love is a ruthless game unless you play it good and right” and “these are the hands of fate / you’re my Achilles heel” speaks to how this whole theme of love and how both raw and burning and ruthless love can shine in this specific universe. specifically anakin’s kind of love. additionally, the idea of Achilles heel...i’ve already discussed the parallels between Achilles and anakin and don’t feel like rehashing, but it’s def. worth noting.

“this is the golden age of something good and right and real”...golden age. the war was messy and terrible and shouldn’t have ever happened, but also, i think for that brief moment, disaster lineage was at least together.

red

look me in the eye and lie to me about how this song doesn’t sum up the exhilarating rush that must have been being around someone like anakin skywalker.

“losing him was blue like i’ve ever known / missing him was dark grey all alone / forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met / but loving him was red”: this entire refrain is about that kind of ruthless, very fiery-seeing-red-everywhere kind of sensation that comes with love. (or, as the song alludes, a kind of dangerous love.)

and if we’re talking about dangerous kind of love—“fighting with him was like trying to solve a crossword and realizing there’s no right answer / regretting him was like wishing you never found out love could be that strong”...thinking thoughts about how there must have been all these times for the people around anakin to clash heads. bro. what even is that.

“remembering him comes in flashbacks, in echoes / told myself it’s time now, gotta let go”. ha ha. you ever think about the people who live after order 66 and wonder what the hell happened to the person they loved. ha.

treacherous

alright, time to put on the anidala hat. this song is supposed to be all about loving someone and constantly feeling like you’re sliding down a slippery slope. a treacherous path—a reckless path—and yet, and yet, “i like it”.

the whole concept of these two being put in a whirlwind romance matches perfectly with these lyrics: “i can’t decide if it’s a choice / getting swept away / i hear the sound of my own voice / asking you to stay”. this mess of a relationship that probably shouldn’t have happened, but it happened, and now the only choice for these two is to hold on...bro.

i knew you were trouble.

ohhhh god, do i need to explain how this is an anidala song or—

“i was in your sights / you got me alone / you found me”,,,the fact that anakin skywalker really looked at padmé amidala after ten years and automatically went “i love her”. a part of me will always sigh and want to pat anakin’s head that please, please, please control yourself, but what am i supposed to do anyways—

but also, the way this song also addresses all the dangerous things that come with a love that probably shouldn’t have started / shouldn’t have been born with so many secrets. the damning / basically self-loathing lyrics like “the joke is on me” and “shame on me now” is honestly kind of sad, and while i don’t think padmé ever regretted loving anakin (and i’ve covered this so many times, but i think anakin and padmé genuinely loved each other), there was def. a sense of constant danger and fear that one day, all the secrets will come tumbling out / something’s going to happen. and all that ultimately bubbles over in revenge of the sith, right when padmé looks at anakin and just doesn’t see him anymore.

all too well

tbh, this song deserves a whole long post on its own, but i’ll try to be concise. i genuinely think this could be about any of the tcw characters / tcw pairings, but because it’s my post and my obsession, i’ll discuss the disaster lineage. there’s something so quietly sad about the line “but you still got [my scarf] in your drawer, even now” and how that speaks to how obi-wan has anakin’s lightsaber / how anakin has ahsoka’s lightsaber both as himself and as ahsoka after ahsoka left the order / after order 66. the fact that you still have a piece of someone you love(d), long after they’re gone...

the fact that this song is so full of memories and longing and aching and grief over a loved relationship. thinking about the lyrics “you tell me about your past, thinking your future was me” is especially sad because while i don’t think anakin was ever completely open about his childhood / past, i like to think he must have told some stories to obi-wan and padmé and ahsoka about happier moments—and you have to wonder what kind of future anakin saw for himself with his loved ones.

“maybe this thing was a masterpiece until you tore it all up” speaks to how for a rare, rare moment, we see anakin skywalker as the hero we’re all supposed to like—and we see how it all crumbles apart so fast.

“but you keep my old scarf from that very first week / because it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me” hits especially hard when you think about how vader still has ahsoka’s lightsabers, or the fact that everything goes “back to when i loved you so / back before you lost the one real thing you’ve ever known”...thinking. a lot about anakin and how the love he felt / received from his friends were real, realer than anything that palpacreep could ever give him. it was all real, and now they’re all memories.

22

okay, this is just a fun song so i can’t really apply it anywhere, but i like to think there must have been a birthday somewhere along the line / some kind of happy event where there’s some chaotic tcw fam shenanigans. ditching the whole scene and “end[ing] up dreaming instead of sleeping”...i like to think they must have had some kind of happy moment like that.

i almost do

this song honestly reminds me the most of anakin and ahsoka. do you ever think that ahsoka might have wanted to reach out to anakin at some point? how “it takes everything in me not to call you”—how she might wish that she could talk to him again but every time she doesn’t, she almost does. (and ha. this makes their S7 reunion even more painful.)

the whole “i bet you think i either moved on or hate you” and “i bet it never ever occurred to you that i can’t say hello to you and risk another goodbye” speaks mostly to that very same reunion. the fact that ahsoka and anakin leave so many things unsaid—the fact that ahsoka restrains herself, cites that reason for the fact that they’ll just catch up another time...when that another time never happens.

we are never ever getting back together

hahaa, i can’t quite laugh about this but also i can because i kinda made a crack edit of disaster lineage + this song over the summer, and it really is just a joke but also...lol vader + ahsoka + obi-wan, but more specifically ahsoka and vader in their reunion in rebels lol. they’re never getting back together, geddit? they “used to think [they] were forever” and “[sigh] he calls me up again and is like i still love you and like,,,this is exhausting, you know?” yeah, me too sis. 🙄

stay stay stay

okay, okay, okay, maybe going a little bit into crack-y happy tcw feelings, but all i’m saying is that i love the image of these dorks staying for each other, you know? the whole “you took the time to memorize me” and “all those times that you didn’t leave / it’s been occurring to me i’d like to hang out with you for my whole life” and “no one else is gonna love me when i get mad” makes me kinda soft but also sad knowing that one of the tragedies of tcw fam is that no one really stays.

the last time

highkey the whole clovis arc in season 6. but anyways, especially the lines about “this is the last time i’m asking you this / put my name at the top of your list” speaks a lot to me about this hunger (yeah, this is @ anakin) to be someone’s first choice. it’s about the anger and jealousy and dull pain of knowing that everyone else’s priorities are elsewhere (and that’s not their fault, but you still feel like it is).

but if we’re thinking about the clovis arc especially, i think a whole lot about anakin + padmé, as well as anakin and obi-wan, esp. in these lyrics: “you wear your best apology / but i was there to watch you leave” and “all those times i let you in / just for you to go again”. we know anakin and padmé were...going through it in this arc, but specially anakin and obi-wan’s conversation—the one where obi-wan’s trying to reach anakin? we see obi-wan briefly open up (ie. about satine!) and anakin quickly shuts it down, and when obi-wan leaves, we see the pain on both of their faces because this wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go.

but also, if we’re circling back to anakin and padmé’s relationship in this arc especially: the really, really painful lyrics about “this is the last time you tell me i’ve got it wrong” and “this is the last time i say it’s been you all along” and “this is the last time i let you in my door” and “this is the last time / i won’t hurt you anymore”...this arc truly explores just how deep the hurt can run when you have a secret relationship. how quickly love can blur into possession and jealousy and anger, and we see that in how anakin and padmé just...both crumble apart, especially in that one bit when padmé basically says she doesn’t want to see anakin for a little while. like. idk. it’s just sad, because this arc really showed just all the issues and problems within a relationship built on lies.

holy ground

oh god, what a fun song. but anyways, just to kick things off: “and darling, it was good / never looking down / and right there where we stood / was holy ground” speaks to a relationship that was good, even if it was wild and brief. which. disaster lineage.

the whole “i guess we fall apart in the usual way / and the story’s got dust on every page” and “i see your face in every crowd” vibe too—these idiots miss each other, and they probably see each other where they’re not supposed to. there was nothing unusual about their falling apart, of course, but something about this song compels me to think about how even in the grief and pain that ultimately drags ahsoka and obi-wan down especially, i think they still are fond of their happier memories with anakin.

also, “tonight i’m gonna dance for all we’ve been through” and “but i don’t wanna dance if i’m not dancing you” makes me a little sad because i think a lot about the fall of the empire and how the whole galaxy is out celebrating, but there’s a certain togruta woman who can’t completely celebrate because now she knows that. her whole family. really is gone.

sad beautiful tragic

this whole song is so tragic, but. anyways. more tragic disaster lineage vibes. the words “words, how little they mean / when you’re a little too late” makes me want to scream because i think a lot about how in rebels, ahsoka tells vader that she won’t leave him—not this time—and obi-wan crying that he loved anakin—the real tragedy here is that these were all words that anakin should have known deep down, but he didn’t, and they all felt late. their timing is terrible.

and “in dreams, i meet you in warm conversation” screams to me this one passage about how obi-wan dreams about anakin, although those dreams are anything but warm. but the idea of how obi-wan still dreams and how “time is taking its sweet time erasing you”—because in the kenobi novel especially, obi-wan explicitly struggles...a lot with anakin’s loss. he definitely gets...sad and tries to remember how the hell it all happened. he keeps pulling out anakin’s lightsaber and just. forcibly puts it away because he knows looking at it would cause just more grief and oh yikes.

the lucky one

ngl i forgot how fuckign good this song is,,,bro. anyways, i think this def. speaks to the og prequel trilogy trio especially, because i think they were all seriously going through with the whole...reputation thing. thinking mostly about how anakin, padmé, and obi-wan are all supposed to be these heroic / cool / beautiful figures who everyone’s supposed to look up to when in reality, they were all struggling with something. also lol the fact that obi-wan and anakin were both propped up as war propaganda figures in-universe because of palpacreep def. speaks to that whole “they’ll tell you now you’re the lucky one”.

and “they tell you that you’re lucky / but you’re so confused because you don’t feel pretty, you just feel used” and “you wonder if you’ll make it out alive” hurts the most, i think, just because how they apply to all those in prequel trilogy. anakin, obi-wan, and padmé—not to mention all the other jedi and the clones, oh god, the clones—were all fighting a war that ultimately didn’t matter, and they were all fighting a war that didn’t leave them as heroes. it just left them as pawns.

but i think if there’s any hope—any hope at all in this song, i think it’s in the last lyrics: “and they still tell the legend of how you disappeared / how you took the money and your dignity and got the hell out” reminds me the most of probably ahsoka and rex, or the people who survived the mess that was the clone wars. granted, rex didn’t exactly have the choice that ahsoka had, because she was the one who really made the big decision to look around herself and say “nope, i can’t be a part of this order”. she got the hell out.

everything has changed

hear me out, but i just think this makes for a cute anakin and ahsoka song, esp. their very cute beginnings. just like. as soon as they meet each other, both of them are ultimately changed. the fact that ahsoka has been noted to be the key to understanding who anakin is—the fact that it’s ahsoka’s relationship / interactions with anakin that ultimately makes him a better person because they’re siblings, your honor—yeah. very much the cute “all i know is we said hello”...the lyrics going on about “i just wanna know you better” and “your eyes look like coming home” makes me soft because. i think that while yes, they had their own rocky beginning, the difference between anakin and ahsoka’s relationship vs. anakin and obi-wan’s (rip i love anakin and obi-wan and i genuinely believe that obi-wan was the best teacher for anakin, and i think their bond is incredibly special, but.......boys please communicate better) is that i think anakin makes a really explicit effort to make sure ahsoka knows that like. he wants her around.

idk—i’m not saying obi-wan didn’t want anakin around! but i think one of the greatest tragedies of their relationship is that anakin always seemed to just. not click with obi-wan’s own demonstrations of love / i want you to be here messages. (the gambit duology goes a little more into this—only in those books, anakin and obi-wan actually talk a little about their feelings! which is nice!) but anyways, point being: anakin and ahsoka really looked at each other and were like “oh yeah. you’re my idiot now.” and i think that’s really cool of them.

starlight

oh god, this is kind of an anidala song but i also am tempted to say obitine song just because of that one line about “pretending to be a duchess and a prince” because,,,lol duchess geddit? and overall just think it’s really cute because. summer love!!!

but also, i do see this as an anidala song because “he was trying to skip rocks on the ocean, saying to me / don’t you dream impossible things?” because i see anakin as most certainly that dreamy-eyed boy who looks at padmé and is just. like that. (and we see a whole ton of that, esp. in aotc and how padmé initially is like “this is a terrible idea” and eventually winds up falling in love anyways, as one does.)

begin again

this song is odd because it doesn’t really give me overwhelming star wars feelings, but it does remind me a little bit of how ahsoka must have felt getting with the rebels crew. because i think ahsoka must have “watched it begin again” when she noted kanan and ezra’s interactions with each other, and i feel like when she’s with ezra, she sees a lot of the young padawan she used to be, and i think there must have been a point where she recognizes that “what’s past is past”. she’s watching everything begin again.

the moment i knew

this is another one of those songs that makes me sad about anidala because it seems like they’re always getting interrupted? the idea of being told that someone’s going to show but it might not happen because life (ie. war! there’s a war!),,,and still not being able to be really that sad about it in public makes me sad. just. i’m reminded of this one moment in tcw where anakin has to leave early because of something and just. the lyrics “what do you do when the one who means the most to you is the one who didn’t show”—like, of course, we see anakin sneaking off, but i def. think in that one tcw episode, we get a glimpse of. how lonely life might be if you’re just. waiting for someone to come home, only to realize that they might not show.

come back...be here

ha....hahahahaa weirdly both anakin and ahsoka and obitine feelings? give me a second.

okay, so as for anakin and ahsoka first: “i can’t help but wish you took me with you” hits hard just because of the time anakin tells ahsoka that he knows what it feels like to want to leave the order. just. oh god.

and then there’s this bit of “this is when the feeling sinks in / i don’t wanna miss you like this” hits hard, esp. considering the whole utapau arc where anakin accidentally slips in ahsoka’s name. he misses her, and i don’t think he really wanted to show that—but it sinks in so hard and fast for him, and it hurts so much oh god

also, the “right when i was just about to fall”: i know that in this context, fall is supposed to mean falling in love, but. the fact that anakin is literally about to fall like,,,a few days after his reunion with ahsoka. i cry now!

as for obitine: ahahahaha. pain, esp. considering how they probably separated after their year on the run? thinking about how that goodbye must have been like—mostly thinking about how there’s so much history between the two. how strange it is that they “didn’t know each other at all”, and how they might have had “the feeling they could know so much without knowing anything at all”, and now i think about how both of them could have “stumbled through the long goodbye”. i think a lot about those years of separation and how satine confesses how she had been in love with obi-wan for a long time—and how that in itself...wondering how or when satine knew for certain that she had fallen in love with the young jedi who came to her aid. thinking about how her “falling in love in the cruelest way” is how that whole falling in love—and realizing just how in love she was—is so cruel, because like. you know. when you’ve been in love / are loving someone for like...ten years....that’s kinda intense ngl

girl at home

lol this song doesn’t really fit with anything star wars related because i don’t think anyone in tcw would actually cheat on their loved ones? still 100000/10 a bop of a song though, and i still think it’s one of swift’s more mature songs, 10000/10 recommend.

[vidalinav]

I go back and forth with this...

But I do want the sisters to be close... I think. 

Ultimately, they’re not bad with each other, even if they have such contention, what sisters don’t? They all have shown that they care about each other, enough to sacrifice some part of themselves. Their personalities may be different, but that’s just how family is. If anyone knows how family actually are, as opposed to this kind of weird version of “family” that the IC made, which blurs the lines between romance, family, and co-worker, it’s these three? 

They slept in a room together with one bed, why wouldn’t they hate each other on the simplest level? All of them have gone through some horrible things that cannot be denied on any level. They don’t each really understand each other yet, or even empathize, but I imagine that has a lot to do with the fact that they don’t know each other fully, the whole story of what each of them have been through. No one knows that Nesta was physically abused by her grandmother and emotionally abused by her mother. They don’t know truly why Nesta hated their father or that she was assaulted by Tomas or what she went through in the cauldron or that she hated herself and didn’t want to exist. They can connect some dots, but not in any way that matters. No one knows what Elain goes through on a regular basis, that she is no where near fine, and that her pleasant personality is fake at best, because I’m sure she is not a-okay. They don’t know what she felt when she was younger, being kind of cast aside, by both mother and father really, as I’m sure they were not attentive. They don’t know what it felt like for her to go into the cauldron, and finding out you have a mate right there, and though we’ve seen the effects, we haven’t seen her thoughts. No one knows what Feyre has gone through, the anger, the hatred, the abuse, Under-the-Mountain, killing those fae, being the High Lady now who doesn’t really know what she’s doing, and now having many of her own family kind of not looking to her as that role, because she really doesn’t know what she’s doing and she’s very young and not given too much authority even under the pretense of her having authority. Honestly, if you read all of the books, the parts with only the sisters, they’re not even that horrible. They act like sisters. They do what sisters do. 

It’s a very interesting thing, because I don’t always mean to paint the IC as a horrible group, but they’re group dynamics taint a lot of healing that could be more easily mitigated if not for these additional people who think they know what’s best or who have to think of their court too instead of how well they’re family is functioning. Because Nesta, Elain, and Feyre don’t have this dynamic of being co-worker/family. They only know family. A traumatized version, but that’s not uncommon to anyone in a family. These girls are very young compared to these fae, but they have not dealt with their issues in 500+ years, no one should be telling them how to do things, when to do it, and each of them is more powerful than any of them at any given moment, even probably Elain. Which is why to Amren is like oh look, these three sisters could make you High King. B.S. All three of these girls want support and a good time. None of them want war or power--clearly. 

So, I would actually like them to have a role in these books where they undeniably stand up for each other, not in an individual sense, but in we’re The Archeron Sisters sense and if you do it to one of us, you do it to all of us. Like the Umbrella Academy level of unity, where they come with ugly memories, but they’re like well with the end of the world in sight we’ll just have to make new memories. Becuase honest to god, I don’t want this fake narrative of everything is okay now, and we can move on up. Our families can be joined and all is well.

Give me conflict but also give me understanding. Give me Feyre and Nesta being like wtf Elain when she starts her healing journey and with whoever romance she has, both of them being gossipers and sticking their noses in her business when Elain is secretive and Elain getting pissed, give me Nesta and Elain being like hell no you’re touching my sister simultaneously when Koschei the big bad is like I want one of you or both of you or whatever. Give me Feyre and Elain being like I don’t know what Nesta is doing, I think she’s been hanging out with Cassian too long, has she always been like this? When Nesta gets into inevitable shenanigans because trouble follows her around. Give me all three of them saving the day, because no one can do it better than them. EVER. Because they don’t have any of the skill and they’re just making it up as they go along, as you do, but they’re minds are fresh and their spirits hopeful and they can do this. Give me the Archeron Sisters deciding that even though they have friends outside of themselves, they are sisters. Only sisters. Because they’re forced together by familial ties, because they have a shared history, and they’ve seen each other at their worst, at their ugliest, and they still choose each other now, because through all five books, Nesta, Feyre, and Elain undoubtedly loved each other even if they didn’t understand how that love was shown. Not a sisterhood, or friends that are absolutely supportive, but sisters!

Give me substance or don’t give it to me at all. 

[deathonyourtongue]

Resurrection | 11

Summary: A ragtag team of Spec-Ops operators are brought out of retirement for all the wrong reasons. When the dust settles, only the best will be left standing. Pairing: Pablo Schreiber x OFC, Henry Cavill x OFC (listen, she gets with the whole team, okay? Don’t lie, you would too.) Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: Nothing much really. A/N: Shit hath hitteth the fan. Again.

“Ooh, smells like semen in here!” Jake says with far too much enthusiasm, smiling brightly at me as he pours two cups of coffee, doctoring mine just how I like it. 

“Shut up. If you or anyone else brings it up, be ready to be on the receiving end of Beef’s fist,” I mutter, giving Jake the only warning he’ll get from me as I take my seat at the conference table, rolling my neck side to side, amazed at just how sore I am. 

“My lips are sealed. I just gotta know one thing: What was he holding out for?”

“Me,” I whisper, watching as Jake’s eyebrows go sky high and he leans back in his seat, silenced. 

“I mean, we all sort of suspected. He’s not exactly subtle about...well, anything, but you never seemed to catch on, so we left it alone.” He shrugs, his smile more genuine this time, Jake looking truly touched by the revelation. 

“Yeah, well, next time do us both a favor and tell me sooner.”

“And spare him the blue balls? Where’s the fun in that? Was it a mess? Did you have to stick the shower head up there after?”

“Jake, shut up!” I crow, throwing a spare pen at him just as Rick walks through the door, breakfast in hand. 

“Literally the last two people I expected to be up early after last night, but I’ll take it. Where’s the rest of the gang?” Rick asked, setting the bags of food and the tray of coffee down in the center of the table. 

“What did you get up to last night?” It’s my turn to interrogate Jake, my eyebrow going up as I watch his smile go impish. 

“Her name was Star and she did things to me that are deadly sins in most religions.” Jake says with as much seriousness as he can muster for all of 2.5 seconds, his face breaking into a smile just as he takes a sip of his coffee.

“Just be glad you weren’t stuck in a box with him for more than 24 hours,” Benji mutters as he takes the seat to my left, squeezing my shoulders before sitting down. 

“Morning,” Max mumbles as he sits to my right, avoiding eye contact with everyone, including me.

“Save the act, Beef. We all know you got some,” Dom cuts in, moving to sit next to Rick, leaning back in his seat, and grinning like that cat that ate the canary. 

“Congratulations on losing your V-card, bro,” Flip adds as he comes in, patting Max on the back as he scoots by him. 

“Alright, enough. What d’we got, Rick?” I cut the shenanigans short, knowing if I let it go on any longer, the guys will yank Max’s chain a little too hard first thing in the morning. Even I’m not that patient before coffee. 

“Well, since we let Wallace literally walk out the front door, we have to chase again. I asked intel for his whereabo--”

There’s barely time to hear the blast before the shockwave hits us, taking out the bulletproof glass as if it were single pane. I feel Max’s body collide into mine, before we both hit the ground hard. Car alarms and smoke detectors go off in nearby buildings, making it clear the blast came from the outside in, but leaving no doubt we’re the targets.

Breaching charges come next, one at the front door, one at the secondary exit. I finally open my eyes as I get to my feet, keeping low and feeling Max’s hand clamped around the back of my neck. Though smoke fills the meeting room, I get enough of a glance to know that the guys are all okay, each of them in the same crouched position I am, all of us moving with precision. 

Max pushes me into my room, slamming the door behind me. Without hesitation, I grab a t-shirt, vest, pants and socks, throwing everything on in a hurry. My boots go last, the laces double knotted so I don’t have a slip-up later. I pull my hair into a messy knot before grabbing my M4 and checking the mag. Seeing it fully loaded, I push it back into place and slam it home, ready to go. 

The knock at my door comes just in time, and I knock back once to let whoever is on the other side know I’m ready and armed. Pulling it open, I fall in behind Flip, covering him and bringing up the tail end of our little procession down the hall. Up front, I hear Dom call out targets, he and Rick taking out three men without hesitation. 

“Let’s move!” Rick calls out, and I pivot so that as I move forward, I can cover us against anyone who might want to come up behind. Within moments of doing so, two of Wallace’s men come out of the meeting room and into the hallway. Leveling my M4, I take four shots, ensuring both men’s deaths. 

Just as I pass the last of the bedrooms, I feel my body get pulled sideways. With little time to react, I let my gun fall to my side and pull my knife out of my vest. Before I can sink it into the nearest limb, I feel his arm go around my throat in a rear naked choke, the man squeezing hard enough to make me see stars. I only have six seconds before the chokehold takes me out, and with gunfire sounding ahead of us, I know the boys won’t be coming to save me. Stepping forward, I pivot towards the man’s thumb, palm striking his hand away as I go. Out of the hold, I don’t waste time, wrapping his neck in a guillotine choke and cranking with every ounce of anger I feel towards the man who’s made our lives a living hell for the last few weeks. 

It takes a second, but I feel the distinct pop of tendon and bone breaking and from how limp the man goes, I know he’s gone. Swinging my gun back into my hands, I check my corners and sprint to catch up with the team, reaching them as they start going down the exterior stairs of the building. At street level, more of Wallace’s men are posted up, guns aimed directly at us. I pause for a moment, eyeing the most imperative man to take out, and with a quick check through my scope, put two through his forehead, taking him out just before he can let a shot off; a shot that would’ve surely hit Rick where it counts. Taking out two more men before moving again, I sprint for our car, slipping in just as Dom puts the pedal to the floor. 

“Everyone good?” Benji calls, his eyes wide as they dart around the van, watching carefully as we all pat ourselves down. Unlike our last shootout, I don’t find a hole where it shouldn’t be. Still, I’m not surprised when I find Max’s fingers lifting my chin. 

“Jesus,” he hisses as I turn my head out of his grip, nodding. 

“Yeah, it’s gonna be muteville for me tomorrow unless I can ice this soon,” I acknowledge, resting my head back against the seat as the pain finally kicks in. 

Our secondary safehouse is nowhere near as luxurious as the one we use for headquarters, being nothing but a small, modified warehouse, but it has water, ice, and a place for me to lean back while I ice my neck. Max brings me the bag and gingerly sets the ice down on my neck, smoothing my hair back after. With a gentle kiss to my forehead, he takes his seat next to me, his gaze focusing on the screens where Rick is pulling up traffic cameras.

“Home Office is going to love knowing you broke the Freedom Act just for one man,” Max deadpans, all of us focusing on a different part of the screen, trying to figure out where Wallace and his men went after the bombing. 

“I’ll have a look at security cam footage from right after the stairs, see if I can pinpoint what direction he went in,” Dom says, pulling his laptop closer before entering the same camera network the traffic ones are on. If nothing else, I’m glad we’re in London because as one of the most surveilled cities in the world, the chances of not finding him are slim to none.

Silence falls over the room as we all study the feeds, looking for any sign of the black vans Wallace and his men got into after the bombing. It seems like hours go by before Dom finally speaks up, his voice terse as he checks and double-checks his findings.

“Cameras show him headed east-”

“I got him. He’s on A12,” Rick interjects, standing to get a closer look at his square, where the two vans are headed in the exact direction Dom had said. 

“A12 ends at London City. He’s gonna try and hop ship!” Max is the one on his feet now, reaching for his phone. 

Taking the ice off my neck, I sit up, well-versed in what’s about to happen. Joint ops are always a mess, but we need the airport locked down with him and his team in it, and with the head start Wallace has, we’ll never make it in time. 

Max paces as the call rings, his face making it clear he needs the person on the other end to pick up, and pick up quickly. As he waits, we all start getting ready. Vest plates are checked, mags get loaded and stowed, and extra ammo is stuffed into a singular go-bag one of us will carry just in case. 

“John. Hey mate, I need a favor and I need it fast. No questions right now. I need you to lock down London City as quickly as you can. No making calls to anti-terror, understood? This one’s ours and ours alone. He’s an animal and we need to put him down. Can you do that, mate? Good, thank you. What’s your ETA?”

Max listens intently to his friend on the other line even as he starts prepping his own gear, knowing we don’t have much time. 

“Great. I’ll see you there, mate. I’ll explain over a pint when it’s all over, I promise.” Closing the call, Max grabs his gear, on my heels as we all rush out the door and back into the truck. 

We check and recheck everything as Max drives towards the airport we know Wallace will be trying to fly out of. The silence in the truck is deafening, all of us tensed and ready for what we hope will be the end of this nightmare. 

London City’s facade reminds me of a used car dealership, all concrete and glass, with the airport’s title written in blue letters across the top of the entrance. It’s not a stunning piece of architecture, and despite its prime location, it’s nowhere near as heavily-trafficked as Heathrow or Gatwick. I try my best to keep my face neutral as we arrive; by the amount of lights and personnel standing around outside the building, the Mets weren’t exactly subtle about their approach. The chances that Wallace is still in the building drop more and more, the closer we get.

Max tears out of the car like a bull in a china shop, eyes narrowed with laser precision as he marches inside to find his friend. We follow suit, scanning the area for any sign of Wallace or his men, knowing he could be waiting to spring another trap on us at any moment. 

“What the hell happened, John?” Max barks as he makes a beeline for his friend, having no idea how scary he looks when he’s on the warpath. 

“We were too late, mate. He had a private jet set to take off. Wheels were up by the time we got to the counters. We’re pulling surveillance and the flight manifest as we speak.” John, to his credit, manages to face Max without shrinking in his presence, unintimidated by the rabid dog routine he tends to default to whenever a plan is going south.

Appeased by the quick reaction to missing their primary objective, Max backs off, scrubbing a hand over his face as he turns back towards us.

“We’re all in consensus that he wants to recreate the night he was arrested, correct?” He asks as we all gather around, ready to rejig the plan as necessary. Everyone nods, the rest of the team’s anger rising to the level of Max’s, none of us wanting a repeat of that night. “So he’s headed south. Probably back to Libya.” 

The flight manifest appears before anyone can say another word, and as Max reads over the report, I know the bad news is about to be compounded. 

“He took a hostage. FUCK!”

[doctor-yoshi-soul]

So I had an interesting conversation over discord with @dude-what-am-i-even-doing and I cracked the fucking code. What code you may ask?

"It's pon farr night at the Vulcan night club"

But before I talk about that, I must first digress into a headcanon of mine: Tuvok used to be a complete party animal. He knows not only how to get a Vulcan hammered, but knows how to mix drinks to get at least 17 species shitfaced.

My evidence for this:

It's canon he was a rebellious teen which on Vulcan is obviously a MUCH bigger deal

In Riddles it's revealed Tuvok is an expert at making sweets, though he hasn't in a long time. Sugar gets Vulcans drunk.

Honestly have you listened to how Tuvok talks? How completely sassy he is? Like Vulcans are already sassy but he's got it fucking down. He's got experience.

This headcanon spawned a few other scenarios where Tuvok helps Cadet Janeway loosen up, and while they were funny, I hit a snag.

Tuvok is over 100 years old; he couldn't have been at the academy while Janeway was a cadet.

My workaround for this was remembering Tuvok was an instructor at one point but then I got to thinking, "what were Tuvok's academy years like?"

And this brings me back to "It's pon farr night at the Vulcan nightclub."

There's a lot of odd things about this line:

This is said by an alien masquerading as a human in a fake Starfleet Headquarters. How would this Delta Quadrant alien know what Pon farr is?

Seriously there's 2 pon farr episodes in Voyager and the only reason Tom knows what's happening in the second one is cause in the first one B'Elanna got fucked up by Vorik and he had to help her

Even if that particular random member of Species 8472 had read enough information and sifted through enough archives to know what Pon Farr is, why would she have said it? Chakotay was masquerading as another member of the species, it's hella odd to flirt using the mating season of another species, especially with how secret Pon Farr actually is

I'm still going on about this why would all of Species 8472 think it important to know that one species of the Federation mates violently every few years

Why would there be a Vulcan nightclub? They're Vulcans for God's sake.

Even if there was a Vulcan nightclub there's no way in hell they'd have a special day named after Pon Farr like I said it's supposed to be secret.

AND even if you try to explain it away as "well it's a simulation right maybe Species 8472 just made it themselves" Species 8472 took immense care to make the environment as accurate as possible.

So all of this makes the line, on its own, really fucking weird (of course you can say it's just a cheeky reference but that's lame).

And this brings me back to Tuvok. Tuvok is over 100 years old. In this particular episode, he's 111. He entered the academy over 80 years ago.

Remember that "party animal Tuvok" headcanon I mentioned?

I propose, that Tuvok, in a drunken act, with a 23rd century equivalent of a lampshade over his head, once got shitfaced and shouted "It's Pon Farr night!" Before continuing other drunken shenanigans.

I propose the incident became notorious among cadets, and over time the phrase ended up becoming a colloquialism for getting fucked up, despite the fact that none of them know the true meaning of the phrase.

TL;DR: "It's Pon Farr night at the Vulcan nightclub" is the result of Tuvok getting shitfaced a long time ago and the phrase ended up becoming popular without the other cadets truly understanding its meaning.

[kyndaris]

A Hero Lies in You

On April Fool’s Day 2019, a video was released showing the latest game in the Yakuza franchise. Many thought it was a prank. The reason why? The sudden change in combat. Gone was the brawler beat-em-up that was associated with the series. In its stead was a turn-based system reminiscent of role-playing games. Characters waiting for their turns before utilising special skills? In a franchise known for its hard gritty storylines about gangs duking it out in the streets of Japan? ‘Haha Ryu Ga Gotoku. You thought you could fool us, but we see right through you. This isn’t our first rodeo and you’re not Square Enix,’ was many a thought when the footage had been viewed by thousands online.

What gamers did not know was that this was no gag. Fast forward several months to August 2019 and it was confirmed that Yakuza 7: Like a Dragon, starring new protagonist Kasuga Ichiban, would actually incorporate turn-based battles. There would even be JOBS! 

As I had just finished playing through Kiryu’s story, as well as Judgment, in 2020 I was eager to see what new protagonist Kasuga Ichiban would bring to the table. From trailers, I could already see how much livelier Ichiban would be in comparison to the more stoic Kiryu. And, in contrast to Yagami, he was definitely more of an idiot. A lovable idiot, to be sure, but an idiot nonetheless.

Yakuza 7: Like a Dragon released in a huge week for video games. While I would have preferred to play it earlier, I had other huge titans to wrestle into submission first. Once I had managed to satiate my Ubisoft open-world needs with Assassin’s Creed: Valhalla, I dived head first onto the streets of Yokohama, ready to bust some heads.

The game opens on a play. For a moment, I thought I had somehow purchased the wrong game. But as the lengthy prologue progressed, it was very clear that this was most definitely a Yakuza game. It just needed to set up a little bit of the tale, starting with Arakawa Masumi - father figure and role-model for our erstwhile hero. It isn’t long before players are introduced to Kasuga Ichiban with his trademark ‘punch perm.’ Born in a soapland and raised by those that lived on the fringes of society, Ichiban, rather than being hardened by his experience, is empathetic and not afraid to show emotion. Tasked with collection, he interprets his orders in a way to benefit those that are struggling. His goofball attitude immediately makes him a character one can connect to. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s a bit of a nerd, having played Dragon Quest during his childhood and likening many of the people around him to things in the game.

It’s not long before the plot escalates and Ichiban volunteers to give himself up to the police. Sentenced to fifteen years in prison, he inadvertently extends his sentence when his Patriarch is insulted by one of the fellow inmates. After nearly two decades spent in prison for a crime that he did not commit, Ichiban is released with little fanfare and no waiting convoy. Disappointed, he takes it in stride. The first thing on his order of business: to get his signature punch perm and reconnect with his second father-figure and Patriarch of the Arakawa family.

Along the way, he is dogged by a former policeman: Adachi. At first, it isn’t made clear why Adachi seeks Ichiban for help. After all, Ichiban had supposedly killed another yakuza in Kamurocho, Tokyo. Adachi, on the other hand, was a detective in Yokohama. Why would he have any interest in uncovering the truth behind what had put Ichiban behind bars?

After a few shenanigans are had in and around Kamurocho, our protagonist is shot and left for dead - waking up in a homeless shelter in the heart of Isezaki Ijincho. Climbing his way from rock bottom, Ichiban embarks on a journey to uncover the truth, stumbling upon a series of events and unearthing a vast conspiracy in which he was to serve as a pawn.

Many of the earlier chapters felt a little contrived. In particular was the death of Nonomiya. While it served to move the narrative forward, it was most assuredly a means to an end that didn’t highlight any significant character growth. Poor Nonomiya was fridged just to bring Ichiban into conflict with the Liumang branch of the Ijin Three.

It was only in the later chapters that the story picked up steam - with the confrontations with Bleach Japan and the encroachment by the Omi Alliance. Joined by a menagerie of characters like Zhao, Saeko, Han Joon-Gi, Nanba and Eri, there was a lot to keep track on as the plot barrelled forward at a breakneck pace, connecting Ichiban’s past with his current present and all the while setting up a juicy conflict between two men that could have been brothers. And honestly, the ending with Arakawa Masato and Ichiban got to me. I loved how that Ichiban was finally able to reach his old charge by being vulnerable and finally letting out a little of his resentment at the life Masato led, despite the fact that he could not use his legs.

The characters were superbly written and their motivations were a good reflection of the human condition. The themes of family and finding a home were evident, right from the start, even though a lot of it was glossed over by Ichiban’s desire to be a hero in a video game.

(I also really liked Seong-hui and would love to see her be an actual playable character in possible future instalments. On a side note, Arakawa...you cannot simply say: ‘See you tomorrow, Ichi,’ and expect to walk away. You basically wrote your own name into the Death Note with that line!)

As far as aping Japanese role-playing games go, however, Yakuza: Like a Dragon falls woefully short. While the Tendo twist was a good one - it was pulled a little too early. Worse, there was no world-ending threat. Everyone knows that a Japanese role-playing game MUST HAVE A VILLAIN/ EVIL GOD FIGURE THAT INTENDS TO DESTROY THE WORLD. Yakuza: Like a Dragon was too focused on old childhood rivalries to extend it further afield. I mean, yes, Aoki Ryo hoped to pull the strings of the Japanese government as chair of the CLP, but WHERE WAS THE METEOR HURTLING TOWARDS EARTH? 

Honestly, 1/10 for holding true to Japanese role-playing games.

Other than that, the summons with Pound Mates was amusing. As were the side stories. Honestly, there can never be enough side stories to flesh out the wacky world of the Yakuza franchise. So many old favourites made their return. From Pocket Fighter (now dubbed Dragon Fighter) and Gondawara Susumu with his baby fetish.

Also, I didn’t think I’d be so obsessed with it, but I think they cracked property management this time round. Ichiban Confections, later known as Ichiban Holdings, was a blast to manage and accrue juicy money for.

The bartender of Survive also looked very familiar. I mean...what with the huge scar across his face. My suspicions were confirmed when I searched up Kashiwagi up on the Yakuza wiki page and was awarded with the fact that HE MANAGED TO SURVIVE THE ASSAULT HELICOPTER FROM YAKUZA 3!!

Other than that, my few other gripes involved the implementation of the levelling system and the way area of effect skills were handled. In particular, the pathing for how characters moved around the battlefield proved, at least to me, a bit of a frustration. Often, characters would be blocked by a knee-high fence or a corner. Sometimes they would be able to go around, but other times the game (after several seconds of watching them fail to walk through a solid building) warp to the enemy that I had targeted to launch their attack.

And even though the combat is turn-based, most of the enemies tend to walk around the battlefield - either clumping together or distancing themselves from each other. What truly annoyed me was when there were moves that could be used as an area of effect, with the MP cost to go along with it, but were limited by their effectiveness when the enemy combatants were too far away. Yes, it makes sense, but golly gosh, how much of a pixel measurement does it have to be for it to not hit?

Besides that, the levelling was also a bit of a tedious chore. Were it not for the invested vagrants, I feel like I might have put the game down with how much grinding there was - particularly when it came to the various jobs. The biggest hill to climb was from 20-30. Without the exp (experience point) boosting items, it would have been a torturous slog. I know that in the original Japanese release of the game, the cap for jobs was level 30, but if you change it to 99, please, for the sanity of all the gamers out there, tweak the requirements to make it easier. And maybe give normal trash mobs a bit more experience points for the playable characters to munch on. 

Goodness, imagine having to grind on level 55 Ornery Yakuza and receiving a paltry 1000xp for each battle (when, in order to level up a job, you needed almost a million).

Yakuza: Like a Dragon is a break from the traditional formula that’s been a staple of the franchise for many years. Much like Ichiban, it’s a bit of fresh air to liven up the experience that might have gone a bit stale after I slogged through the whole Kiryu arc last year. With a few tweaks, and a few more Persona 5 CD soundtracks, I’m eager to see how the story evolves and whatever contrivances Ichiban will somehow force him into.

Although, to be fair, is it still appropriate to call this franchise Yakuza when the game literally saw the dismantling of the two biggest clans? Then again, Civilian: Like a Dragon 2 just doesn’t have the same ring to it. In any case, I hope the next one comes soon and we’ll be able to have Seong-hui in our party. I feel like she’d be wielding a gunblade.

(Did I just use a lyric from Mariah Carey? You bet I did! I had been tossing up the idea between this line and ‘I need a hero.’ Why? Well, I think that would be self-explanatory after knowing Ichiban’s proclivities. And it fits so, so, so well!) 

[bi-naesala]

Found you (chapter 1)

Bad Batch arc retelling (sort of) | Fives lives AU

Also on AO3

It’s still weird for Fives to be considered a war hero. Sure, he uncovered a deep conspiracy that would’ve resulted in the fall of the Republic, but going from “that di’kut Fives” to “hero of the Republic Fives” is a huge step.

What’s most weird is the amount of attention he’s getting now, and he means the positive kind of attention. That’s not even the weirdest part actually; what really bothers Fives is how tired he is of it already. It may be weird coming from Mr. Attention Whore himself, but that’s how he feels. He just doesn’t like the idea that he’s somehow more important that the rest of the vode.

 Maybe that’s why he’s relieved when action calls again.

The Chancellor might’ve been found guilty of being a Sith Lord and Dooku might’ve been apprehended, but there are still some Separatist cells fighting. There aren’t many left, but this doesn’t mean that they have to act less cautious.

Here’s the weird thing: for some reason, they seem to be fighting better now. Might be desperation, but their tactics have changed; they’re more efficient, almost as if they could predict what the Republic’s next step will be. This either means that there’s a spy in their ranks or, more likely, that they have found some source of intel.

 It’s Rex the one who approaches Fives first. They’ve been dancing around this theory for a while, but neither of them have had the courage to openly speak about it, at least until now. It’s far-fetched at best, but the evidence is there; besides, they’d both be lying if they said they don’t want it to be true - especially Fives.

“I think Echo’s alive.”

Here it is, what both of them have been thinking for a while. Rex’s voice is hesitant, and Fives can’t decide if it’s because he fears he won’t listen to him or - more likely - that he isn’t sure himself on how true this statement is.

“I think so too,” he quickly replies then, “You two have been working on most of these plans, and now somehow the Seppies can anticipate our moves. It can’t be a coincidence.” It would be too convenient.

It may sound unlikely, but let’s not forget who orchestrated all this. If the Supreme Chancellor himself can be guilty of being a Sith Lord, then it’s possible that what remains of the Separatists are using Echo for their strategies.

As Fives and Rex exchange a look, however, they understand what the most difficult part of this will be: making the others believe them.

 The first people to be informed are General Skywalker and Cody.

Skywalker is still recovering from the discovery of the Chancellor’s true nature - they were pretty close after all, and damn now that they know the whole story, isn’t that creepy? - but he listens to their thesis with an open mind, even if it’s clear he doesn’t entirely believe it. He knows about loss and he understands why they would want to believe that, but still…

“Sometimes people just die. No matter how much you want to, you can’t bring the dead back,” he begins, thinking about all the people he has failed to protect, and it’s exactly because he understands that he continues, “But if you think that it’s worth it, we can investigate.”

Relief surges through both the clones.

“Yessir!”

 Differently from Anakin, Cody goes full skeptic immediately.

“We can’t jeopardize everything just for this.”

Fives greets his teeth. How dares he speak like that about a brother? After all they’ve been fighting for he just wants to leave one of them behind?

“You can’t talk like that!” he begins, moving towards Cody with ill intent, something that Rex picks up, so he immediately grabs his arm to stop him before he does something he will regret.

“Fives, not now!”

Cody looks at them and he sighs. He understands, he truly does, but they still have to draw a line, or else this will blow up out of proportions.

“It’s not that I…” he begins defensively, but he stops himself. There’s no point in answering aggression with aggression; they’re all tired - even in its last stages the war is taking a toll on them - and doing so would help nobody. “I know it’s hard being the one who survives. It’s a burden that no regular folk can understand.” He looks at Fives. “But we can’t let this affect the wellbeing of who remains.”

At those words, Fives deflates a bit, even though it’s obvious in his eyes that he hasn’t accepted the situation yet, and honestly Cody can’t blame him. If anything happened to Rex or any of his batch mates - even Fox - he would find himself in a very similar state.

“Even if we try to do something about it, how many brothers will die for something that we’re not even sure about?”

His words are harsh, but they need to be. The sacrifice of more troopers is something they cannot afford.

 Silence falls between the three, each one lost in their own thoughts.

Unexpectedly, it’s Cody the one who breaks it. His mind works constantly, and he may have found an idea to solve this problem without losing too many lives. Besides, he simply is unable to say no to Rex.

“If you truly think that this is key to understand why the Separatists are on a winning streak, then I suppose we could send a small team to investigate it.”

“A small team?” Rex asks, careful in his enthusiasm. Cody may have given in but that doesn’t mean they’re done.

“Yes, a small team,” Cody replies, and it’s obvious that he has something in mind already, and when Rex asks him, he just smiles, “You’ll see. I need to make a call.”

  Clone Force 99. Nobody in Torrent Company has heard of this name.

“99, eh? Nice touch,” Rex comments, smiling sadly as he remembers his fallen vod. It’s nice seeing that someone has found a way to honor him. Fives is smiling too.

“Oh, I knew him well,” he begins, “He was the only one who believed in my cadet squad… I can’t believe it’s been so long already.” It feels like centuries have passed since 99’s death. He wonders what he would think about him; would he be proud? He’d say that he did his best, that he’s done so much good, but he still let so many vode die without being able to do anything about it. Maybe, however, he can at least save one of the people he thought he’d lost.

“Oh right, you were underdogs before coming here!” Jesse exclaims, recalling the few stories he and Echo told, “You never told us much about your Kamino days, vod.”

Fives chuckles, lightly shoving his brother - who has begun leaning closer to him - with one shoulder, colliding with Jesse’s ARC trooper armor - yeah, the di’kut really managed to get promoted.

“That’s because you were only looking for blackmail material!” he chuckles.

 The truth is that he and Echo have always been a bit jealous of their shared past. They didn’t do it with malice, but it was something that tied them to each other, something special that only them shared. Remembering all the early Domino squad shenanigans was always a special occurrence for them. Even after Echo’s death - but he’s not dead, Fives knows it - he never felt like sharing that part of his past; it didn’t feel right without his brother.

 “Getting back to the original topic,” Kix interrupts, “I’ve heard some things about this Clone Force 99.”

Trust Kix to do some digging before getting briefed on anything. That’s actually reassuring, at least they won’t walk in whatever Cody has planned blind.

“So?” Fives encouraged him, “What have you heard?”

“They have a 100% success rate, so they’ve got that going for them,” Kix begins, though he doesn’t look that happy about it as he should be.

“There’s a ‘but’ in here, isn’t it?”

“Well, the thing is… I haven’t found much except for that,” Kix reveals, “Even their existence is barely known!”

“Who’s their general?” Fives asks, curious and suspicious at the same time. He’s learned to be wary of secretive stuff; they usually never bode well.

“I don’t know,” Kix replies, “I don’t think they have one.”

Fives moves his gaze to Rex. What has Cody gotten them into this time? His Captain, on the other end, just shrugs.

“This means we’ll just have to find out information when we’ll meet them.”

“It doesn’t worry you that they seemingly work alone?” Jesse asks.

“They must have their reasons…” is what Rex replies with, making it clear that this is the end of the conversation, “You should get prepared, now. We’ll be departing shortly.”

“Sir yes sir!”

  They meet up with Cody shortly after that.

“So, Clone Force 99, eh?” Rex asks, making Cody smirk.

“I see you already did your homework,” he comments.

“Blame Kix.” That earns a chuckle from both of them, before Rex continues, “How come nobody knows nothing about them?”

“They’re defective clones with desirable mutations. They call themselves ‘The Bad Batch’.” Huh, that doesn’t exactly spark confidence, but if Cody trusts them, then they must be worth it.

 An aircraft lands - and Fives swears, the pilot must be worse the Skywalker because it’s a messy landing at best - and the main door opens.

There’s the sound of steps and four clones in full armor step outside to meet with them. They haven’t shown their faces yet but they already look different - it must be their demeanour. One of them is particularly huge - just what the hell did they feed him on Kamino?

Fives straightens his posture, watching in silence. So this is Clone Force 99.

  That’s official, Fives hates these dudes.

Well, not really, or at least, not all of them. Hunter seems cool and badass - not as much as their captain of course - Wrecker is a force of nature, Tech seems chill… Yeah, the only one he actually fully hates is Crosshair. He doesn’t like people who act like they’re better than everybody else, and Crosshair surely seems to believe that he is; besides, there’s so much venom in the way he calls them regs that doesn’t sit well with Fives at all.

A peek at Jesse and Kix makes it pretty evident that he isn’t the only perplexed one. Jesse shoots at him and annoyed glance, while Kix just shrugs, already resigned to the incoming headache that this mission will cause him. Fives tries to reassure them with a smile, even though he must not be doing a great job.

Oh come on! How bad can it be?

  Aaaand they lost the Marshal Commander already. Maybe Fives should’ve just shut his mouth.

At least Kix will stay with him until aid arrives, which also means that they’ve lost the medic already. They’ll have to be very careful.

 Still, did those other shebs really have to show off like that? They could’ve easily handled the droids coming at them without them having to try so hard to be cool!

Not that Fives doesn’t appreciate some help - if it keeps them alive a bit more, why shouldn’t he? - but he doesn’t want to give them more excuses to gloat, especially since their main target seems to be the captain, which is not ok.

What makes him more annoyed is that, deep down, he admires these dudes. They seem to have a plan for everything. He wonders how they would fair with General Skywalker and his “screw plans” policy. Who knows, maybe he’d manage to throw them off the loop.

At least he can admit that they’re competent, though he refuses to say it out loud. He doesn’t want to verbally harass them like Kix and Jesse are doing, but he also won’t do anything to defend them. They might be competent and all, but they’re still asshole.

 “You can’t talk to Captain Rex like that!”

Damn, Fives gets distracted for one second, one kriffing second, and hell breaks loose.  Of course, it’s Crosshair’s and his bitch mouth’s fault.

Jesse’s so close to hit him, but Wrecker’s on him in an instant, picking him up from the ground. Now, if it was just a simple discussion, Fives would’ve let it go - he would’ve bitched about it internally but he would’ve let it go. This, this is different; if that’s a fight what they want, they will have a fight.

He bolts up, followed by Kix, whose intentions seem more towards stopping the fight than to take part in it, but Fives is having none of this. Insults and mocking are one thing, touching a brother is another.

“Let him down!” he yells stepping towards Wrecker. He barely registers Kix beings pushed by Crosshair, and if he dares to try the same thing on him he swears, he’ll snap him like the twig he is.

He may not have their “desirable mutations” but he can still kick their asses if he wants to, and look what a coincidence, he really does right now.

 It takes Hunter to defuse the situation before it ends up in a scuffle. Damn, they’re acting like a bunch of shinies.

There’s still the mission to focus on, and Fives tries to keep his composure, ignoring the Bad Batch altogether.

As they prepare to leave he goes to check in on Kix, kneeled beside Cody. He’s applying some bacta on his wound.

“I don’t have much, but it’s better than nothing,” the medic mutters, clearly not happy about the situation. If they lose the kriffing Marshall Commander, it’ll be bad. At least help is on its way, so hopefully they won’t have to wait for too long; all Kix has to do is to make sure that he stays alive until they arrive.

“You sure you can hold up?” Fives asks.

“You’re the ones going into danger, not me.”

“Careful Kix, I might start thinking you’re jealous that we’re getting some action, unlike you.”

“Kriff off!” Kix goes to give Fives a light punch on his knee, but as the smile on his lips suggest, it’s a light-hearted gesture. It’s nice being able to tease each other like this again; there was too much tension before.

They both chuckle, but then Kix gets serious again.

“And tell Jesse not to do anything too stupid,” he warns Fives, who rolls his eyes at those words, even though he’s still smiling.

“Tell him yourself,” he replies, not because he won’t tell, but just because he wants to be a little shit.

“I already did, but knowing him he needs a reminder.”

“I’ll tell him you said that.”

“As if he doesn’t know already what I think of him,” Kix huffs, only to look at Fives as he adds, “Please, be careful.”

“We will, Kix, I promise. We didn’t come this close to ending the war just to die.”

 Fives takes a moment to himself to focus, but judging by the heavy steps coming towards him, he will be joined by Jesse soon. He was never good at stealth and ARC training sure didn’t help with that.

“You ready?” his brother asks once he’s in hearing range. Fives turns towards him.

“Yeah I am.” At first it seems the end of the conversation, then Fives remembers what Kix asked him to do, “Kix wants to remind you not to do anything too stupid. Weird that he said ‘too stupid’ and not just ‘stupid’, almost like he knew already that you’re going to do something dumb anyway.”

“Ah ah,” Jesse says, mocking a laugh, face completely unimpressed, “When did you become such a killjoy? Last time I checked you were all for crazy battle tactics.”

“It’s not that I don’t like them anymore, but…”

But he almost died. Sure, he’s risked his life countless times in this war, but this last time really did a number of him, and that’s only scratching the surface of what’s going on in Fives’ head. Now that he’s so close to see finally the results of not only his efforts, but the vode’s as well, he doesn’t want to kick the bucket; he doesn’t want to be just another casualty to add to the list.

There’s also Echo’s deal. If he’s truly alive and out there, Fives wants to find him. Someone will have to take care of him, and that someone is going to be him; he owes him that after leaving him for dead at the Citadel. He promised himself that he won’t die before reaching him, even at the cost of foregoing his usual battle tactics.

He should say something, trying to explain himself, but as Jesse gently rests a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it, he understands that he doesn’t need to. In the end he had revealed to him and Kix too about his and Rex’s theory about Echo; needless to say that they’ve been enthusiastic at the prospect of having their brother back.

“I know, vod. I was just teasing you,” Jesse says, “And I solemnly swear that I won’t commit any reckless act… At least unless the situation really calls for it.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Fives smirks, “And now let’s show these shebs how Torrent does things.”

“Yessir!”

  It went better than expected. By diving their forces they’ve managed to distract the guards enough to infiltrate the command center. Hell, they even managed to get a getaway shuttle - Fives supposes that even Crosshair serves a purpose after all.

Still, Rex has been weirdly closed off since their departure, something that doesn’t sit well with Fives, who approaches him, wanting to know how his captain is fairing.

“Something wrong?”

“I heard his voice,” Rex says, turning to him, “Fives, I heard him back there. I asked who we were speaking to and I heard him.”

So this means…

“Echo’s alive. It’s all true.”

 It takes Fives a moment to process Rex’s words, and when he does he feels dizzy. So it’s all true; what was once just a mere hope has become the truth.

Echo’s alive and Rex managed to contact him. This means that he’s in Separatists’ hands. He can’t help but to wonder what they have done to him, if he’s fine, if he’s safe, even though he knows that this kind of pointless worry will only make things worse for him.

Still, now that he knows he’s truly alive, he’ll do everything he can to rescue him. He owes him that much.

“I suppose this means the mission is far from over, captain.”

Rex nods. “It only just begun.”

[yeet-imma-skeet]

The Sky Is Falling

(Loosely based on @starr-fall-knight-rise 's universe)

A thunderous rumbling shook the gathering area, causing frightened screams to yell out in shock. Metallic silver pillars periodically placed around the mansion sized room held the looming ceiling aloft before they started to groan dangerously as if feeling the dangerous pressure around them. Lights flickered before dimly coming back on again, the glasslike gems hung from swinging chandeliers, barely emanating a yellow glow. The smell of a pungent gas filled the air along with the faint whiff of spilt blood. Another thundering boom echoed once more, making some unseen children bawl uncontrollably.

"Please! Take the children!"

"There's no more room, lazeir, I'm sorry!"

"Then make more, caldat!"

"Yes, please! I'm begging you! Take them!"

"Lazeir! Don't leave me, lazeir!"

"Caldats!! Please save us!"

"Save us!"

"Protect the dolmiers!"

"Come back for us!"

The noise was suddenly quieted as an oval door shut soundlessly into place. The small room brightened slowly, revealing three beings sitting by the opposite wall. They breathed heavily, not because of their lengthy run to their compartment in total disarray, but of the intolerable pressure set on their heads.

One whispered, "There’s room in here... We can take some children and—"

"There is not enough supplies to support us and them on the dolmier quaster, Al. We'll barely make it past the galaxy with them if—when we escape." Another voice interrupted logically, their voice shaking.

"B-but we can try! There's still—"

"My prince." The third being said firmly, "My... friend. I am in charge of both of your safety and wellbeing. Even at the cost of others. Your existence will be a saving grace in the future so I cannot allow you to sacrifice yourself now."

The being stood up, their stance showing fatigue but with great determination, "Let's go... May Matradais guide our course to somewhere resourceful and safe."

The being got the first part right, but was most certainly wrong about the latter.

———————————

It all started on that day. That one damned day. It was all perfect before their majesties came to find their heirs...

The Three Rivers Home was a homeschool like any other. There were a few gentle yet strict lazeirs, non-binary caretakers, who watched over the usual litter of fifty children though they were a variety of different subspecies. The Home stood in between some rivers, the edge of a savanna, and few giant Hollow trees, causing the diversity. It was beautifully built home with plenty of rooms, wings made for school rooms, and multiple obstacles to play on. Laughter could be heard at all times of the day, making any passing adult smile in nostalgia. The white, marble walls stood gleaming and true as messily painted streaks of blue ran around the blank canvas like snakes. A small symbolic prank the lazeirs found endearing. A few children were rare hybrids from the locations and garnered a lot of attention from other kids, welcome or not. One of these children was a small female who had sleek body shape made for speed but her hair curiously a muted purple, a clear sign of someone different than the norm. Besides that, she could climb almost as well as any Sky Dweller though her tail was much clumsier at holding branches. She fell from that mistake that one fateful day.

"Galia you're going to fall."

"No I'm not. See these claws?" She flexed her six fingers, sharp curved claws extended from her fingertips menacingly, "Matradais gave me them for a reason. You're just mad you can't join us up here, flipper face."

The giant Farrisan below lashed his tail at the comment but did no more than just exasperatedly stare above at her. His artic blue eyes seemed to be pinprick lights from fifty feet up in a tree. She giddily hopped on her beastly hind legs, her reptilian toes clawing the tree. Another Farrisan alighted on her branch, swatting her shoulder lightly with his long tufted tail.

"Don't tease him, Gale. He can thrash both our hides if he felt like it."

She tussled his vibrant orange mane of hair, "Only if he catches me first!"

With a whoop and a shout, she launched off the branch, bark flying from her clawed toes' grip. With the grace of a clumsy monkey, she made her way down to the ground as her friends yelled at her for multiple reasons. The orange haired Sky Dweller egged her on while the Sea Dweller below yelled about some dead branch. Dead branch?

Her tail wrapped around a particularly dry branch before she realized the warning.

"FUCK."

"SHIT."

"DUMBASS."

"LANGUAGE!"

As Galia fell, their heads turned towards their lazeir coming at them at full speed. It was a terrifying sight to behold. An angry mane of frizzy red hair plus a set of pissed crimson eyes made them truly wish they hadn't sneaked out during role call and instead crawled into a deep hole to cower in. The Sky Dweller easily maneuvered through the grove of trees, clawed feet digging into bark and tail expertly balancing their form as they grabbed Galia in the nick of time before skidding to a halt on ground. They instantly searched her body, looking for any cuts or bruises before flicking her folded wing-like ear with a finger.

Her arial rang as the sharp sound bounced along her hearing, "Ow! Okay! I get it! That was dumb and I'm sorry."

"You should be! What were you thinking? You're not Sky Dweller enough to do acrobatics like that!"

Galia felt a sliver of familiar heat build up within her. The other two who arrived to check on her immediately knew what she was thinking as they plucked her small form from their lazeir's arms.

"She won't do it again!"

"We'll play something else next time!"

They both looked expectantly at her golden eyes, silently telling her to confirm.

"Yes," She looked away, "I won't."

Their lazeir scrutinized her for a second as they sighed in relief, "Good. I’m just glad you're safe, but we have to get you back in for the gathering. The Sea, Sky, and Land Royals are coming. We can't have anyone missing."

They ushered them towards the homeschool, looking quite frazzled at the past events. Unlike their regular personality, they didn't pay any attention to the trio of young adults silently seething at their past comment. It was a sore spot to mention Galia's shortcomings as a hybrid. Never being one or the other created quite a strain on her expectations and if it wasn't for her two friends, she would've been alone, sad, and angry since the beginning. Now she’s just livid with two other people to keep her in check.

A gust of wind pushed against the group, ruffling the yellow leaves above them and swaying boughs of gray branches. Opening their folded arials curiously, the trio heard the familiar sound of dolmiers, flying pearlescent vehicles, whir closer and closer. Their lazeir ushered them faster as three giant torpedo-shaped dolmiers landed gently onto the open field of trimmed cream grass of their front yard. It was a sight to behold, three uncommonly large and armored dolmiers sat gallantly under the emerald sky, shiny and mysterious.

"Dolmier quasters!" The Sea Dweller whispered, amazed.

"What?"

"Dolmiers made especially for Royals."

The orange hair teased, "Pfft, Wace is all nerd."

"Aleyo, I would've asked for your opinion if I wanted it."

Both young men were thwacked with a red-tufted tail.

"Get. Inside."

They flinched, "Yes lazeir."

Galia chuckled as they walked indoors, Wace combed back his black mane sheepishly while glaring at Aleyo. Al opened an arial, pretending to hear something else.

"Don't ignore me you overgrown monke—"

"No really! I hear something."

Or maybe not.

Low muttering could be heard over the ambient halls. Countless doorways lined the white yet homey halls stretched at their sides, dotted every now and then with pieces of artwork or holographic announcement boards. The doors to gathering space made for meetings were propped opened in the front entrance, revealing rows of whispering young Farrisans staring their way. A rainbow of eyes gazed at them, most with curiosity, some with glee, and a few with exasperation. Every one of their litter mates knew the trio were a special group of friends.

Aleyo was the most gullible of the group, quite trusting in an adorably funny way. Al once got his head stuck in a Stoll tree hollow trying to drink its special sap from the source while, somehow, Galia had convinced him to get her a cup of the bubbly water before he went for it. However, he always helped around with a kind hand no matter how many times he's been tricked. Nobody had the heart to keep screwing with him for long. Especially when they know that both his friends would find ways to unmake them.

Wace was the smartest of the bunch yet just got into a lot more of their shenanigans than he should have. He found robotics and engineering to be his forte which allowed his other two litter mates to have a swell time with his inventions, whether purposely made for shenanigans or not. The Rocket Orb Incident was a tale to tell for the ages. Despite the fact that his partners dragged him into trouble, he found himself the happiest when watching over their antics.

Lastly, Galia was the most willful of the trio and the cause of almost all their shenanigans. Whatever temptation came her way, she would do whatever she could to accomplish it. Climb that dummy high tree? Up there in no sweat with some help from Al. Want the best sun spot to lay in? Make a convoluted plan with Wace to maneuver a littermate out of the spot. Craving for the last piece of steak fruit? Sprint through litter mates and if she failed to get one, beg with wide eyes to close friends. Those glittery golden eyes always gained her delicious meals though Wace and Al were somewhat immune to the charm.

Everyone knew they were stupidly close and no doubt knew that they planned to stay close even when their territorial urges come. They couldn't imagine them in any other way.

The trio joined the lined ranks, muttering a few apologies for brushing against tails and exchanging a few knowing stares. They found their spot among the first rows facing the back of the room where a podium stood. Switching into a more polite mindset, they stood respectfully in place like nothing had happened. Especially incidents involving falling off trees. Their watchful lazeir sighed at the sight as they stood with other lazeirs to welcome their now approaching guests.

The first thing the litter noticed was the sudden pressure in the air. Some feeling made their arials twitch, their bodies tensed, and their eyes lock onto the entrance.

Tall, muscled adults stalked in, looking relaxed yet attentively alert. Each had a weapon in hand, some with pearlescent gauntlets, few with kinetic guns, and fewer with gleaming tridents. All of them wore a gray tailcoats over armor, both leather and metal plated. The intimidating atmosphere they created chilled the younger Farrisans to the core. Never have they met such adults armed to the teeth.

A giant Sea Dweller stood forward, faintly smelling of salt, "Stand at attention for his majesty of the Land"

A chorus of moving occurred as the litter and their lazeirs bowed their heads, curled their tails to their backs, and opened arials wide to tilt downwards in respect. Quiet footsteps echoed through their arials along with swishing of loose clothing.

"Greetings young ones." A Plain Dweller stepped forward from the guards. His sleek form, though small, subtly demanded attention. His tailcoat was exquisitely bright cream, matching the most vibrant of savanna grasses. A wreath of golden vines adorned his tawny mane, a crown proving his identity as a king as did the rest of his extravagant clothing. The litter grew curious of another wreath held within his hands, a smaller and daintier version of his own until they remembered what happened years ago. His mate had died due to an emerging disease. As it was new and is currently still incurable, she died after laying the heir's egg. As did another king's mate.

He suddenly stood in place, knocking everyone out of their thoughts. His deep sage eyes stared ahead at one of the litter, a young Plain Dweller known as Kial in the middle of a row. Though he had shadow gray hair, his confused eyes were the same as the king's. He nervously shuffled in place under his majesty's gaze.

"You... What is your name?" The king asked, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

The young man stuttered, "Uh— K-Kial, your majesty."

"Kial!" His arials quivered with joy, "My heir! He's here!"

Disbelief filled the room as the king ran to him, ignoring all etiquette and precautions. His guards scrambled to reach his side as he happily introduced himself to the shocked man.

His litter mates broke into whispers, "Kial!"

"Him?"

"The playboy?"

"The clown?"

Some giggled as they were shushed by their lazeirs.

They silently watched as the king gently touched the man's face, turning him this way and that.

"You look so much like your mother."

"I do? She must've been hot."

The king laughed, a gravelly yet wholesome sound, "You also have her humor! You are definitely our son!"

The guards who arrived acknowledged the words by bowing their heads with open arials. Though his litter mates were still in shock, they also followed along in showing respect to a newfound prince.

Galia flicked an arial towards the entrance, hearing a few more heavy steps entering the room. Too curious to ignore the noise, she cast an eye at the doorway and did a double take. How the heck does Wace and Aleyo have grown twins? With armed guards. Wearing fancy crowns... It was like looking into grumpy and wrinkly pictures them using a cheap photo filter but one of them's a female.

Her eyes grew into golden saucers as she nudged both her friends in their bow.

Al nudged back, "Gale what the hell?"

"Uh—"

Wace whisper-yelled, "I swear to the goddess if you two are playing tailsey at this time I will—"

"What the fuck? No ther—"

"Language." Their frizzy haired lazeir hissed quietly.

"Fine. Why the fuck—"

"Gale! They're still our lazeir!"

"—do their majesties—"

"There’s only one here?"

"—loOK LIKE YOU GUYS?!"

Her angry voice slashed through the silence, causing heads to shoot up at her.

"What?" They asked.

She exasperatedly motioned to the door. Their gazes followed then stopped, stuck on the two towering adults at the door with guards at their tails. Both were ginormous for their species, making both of them duck under the doorways by a large margin. The Sea Dweller queen gathered the most attention as her imposing figure cast a long shadow onto the floor. Scars of past duels and battles dotted her tail and her body under the embroidered navy tailcoat. A silver crown of coral adorned her short black tresses as her piercing blue eyes seemed to look throughout the room yet not at the same time.

Her gaze first landed on Galia for her outburst, making her feel like an insignificant bug under her chin. She did not like the aura around her. She felt sharp, pointy, and worst of all... cold.

The other king stood forward, his arials perked up and his sky green eyes glimmering with some hidden emotion. Light danced off his bronze crown of thicket vine, illuminating his orange mane like a bonfire. A similar wreath of metal was held in his claws. A sure sign that he had also lost his mate. He held a warm yet regal atmosphere, motioning for someone to come closer. But who?

He locked eyes with Al, "You. Come closer."

Aleyo looked at his friends, both of them sending comforting gazes before he tentatively stepped out of the row. He paused at a few steps, still bowing his head in nervous respect.

"What is your name, young man?"

He gulped, "Aleyo, sir. Al for short."

"Aleyo..." The king whispered, "So you were also here, my heir."

Al looked up in surprise, both his friends even more so. The room filled with loud barely concealed gasps. The other two felt dread crawl into their hearts. Every heir found had to go with their majesties the day they're found and chances of ever meeting them again were slim to none. Would they ever see him again?

The Sea Queen rose a stiff hand, silencing the room in an instant. Her head slowly turned towards Wace as she also motioned him to come forward. Gale's heart dropped to her tail. It aches and cried as he escaped her reach. It couldn't be. It can't be.

Finally, the brawny queen asked him the dreaded question, "What is your name?"

Wace stood silent. He bowed to the authority but did not say a word.

The queens's close guard thudded his trident on the ground, "Your queen asked you a question, youngling."

Al felt growing fear as he watched him stay quite. Gale only felt sorrow but soon mustered up bravery.

She stepped forward and bowed her head lower, "His name is Wace, your majesty."

Both her friends stared in disbelief, seeing unbelievable acceptance in her cowed form.

"Hmm," She heard the queen hum, "Is that your name? Will you answer me this time instead of your halfbreed littermate?"

Galia gritted her teeth in rage, internally wrestling herself to stay bowed, to stay cowed, and stay in her place. Memories of past adults whispering behind her back crawled their way back into her mind. A poor soul. An incomplete being. A halfbreed. What good is a Farrisan who isn't the fastest? What good is she if she's not the best climber either? She loathed their comments. Hypocrites, the lot of them but she couldn’t help feeling the same. What is my worth? Why do I exist? Emptiness replaced her fury as she felt more hollow than ever.

Seconds past until she began noticing her friends openly glaring at the Sea Queen, unafraid of her power and strength. Oh boy. Those two amazing yet daft litter mates.

"Yes my name is Wace, but don't you dare call my friend that again." His stance stood wide, unyielding to the giant’s scrutiny.

Al growled, an unexpected sound coming from the kind person, "What he said."

The air felt chilled, suffocating the room. The rest of the litter and the lazeirs looked on in horror as the Sea Queen's face turned sour and her guards grow in hostility. Tension grew but nobody flicked an arial.

The Sky King quickly stood between the glaring pair, "Apologies on the behalf of my heir. I'm sure they don't mean to cause harm, Warina. They're clearly close."

"But father I—"

Al was shushed by a stern look by the king.

Narrowing her eyes, the Sea Queen eased her guards with a swift raise of a tail. The air loosened as the litter and lazeirs shuffled uneasily. Galia let go of a breath she never knew she held. She wanted nothing more than to sink to the ground in relief until she felt a sliver of fear stab through her body. Though it was quick, she felt someone staring through her soul with hatred. Behind. It was behind her. Quite unexpected since she thought the Sea Queen the culprit but she was clearly in front of her. Odd...

"Before I was rudely interrupted," Her silky voice cut through the room, "It seems that all of our heirs have been raised here."

No amount of guards or, in fact, royals could quiet the astonished din the litter and lazeirs made.

"All of them!"

"We had all princes here the whole time?"

"A first in history!"

"Poor Galia..."

Poor Galia indeed. Her world felt like crumbling apart. Not them. They have been through everything. They planned to be neighbors. They wanted to be together til the end, even if they found mates and grew withered with age. Instead, she will stay they way she is as they will grow wise, grand, and famous. Rulers of the Sky and Sea, leaving her behind. Unless...

She stepped between her royal friends, arials open in reverence and tail painfully curled further upon her back as she put her heart out. Please let her come!

"Your majesties, may I be trained under your vigilance?" She asked.

The room gawked as the Royals found themselves surprised at the rarely asked ageold question. Her friends even more so. Galia had directly asked their royal highnesses to be a Vigil, the highest caste of warrior especially trained under royal guards. They were known as mysterious yet deadly soldiers who were constantly forced to always do missions on and off world for Royals. In other words, Farrisans who volunteered to be without a territory, thoroughly destroying any chances of them ever having a home and most importantly, a mate.

"Gale no!"

"If this is for us then—"

Another voice cut through, "Can I have her?"

The Land King walked away from the rows of the litter, a confused Kial and guards in tow.

"You have plenty of Vigils from my given forces. Might I have this one serve me?" He asked again.

Galia felt the stab of fear again, staggering a step away from the king. Hate. She felt hate emanate from his very body. How nobody noticed was beyond her. Why? Why does he feel like rotten intent when he looked like he was having the best day of his life. Wait—

"Very well."

"We have no need. Train her well."

Wace and Aleyo prepared to dissuade their parents when they were gently knocked behind the knees with Galia's tail. She shook her head, sending the most determined gaze instead. The guards readied weapons at her preposterous treatment of their new princes when the Land King raised a tail.

He cheerfully said the malicious first words of many to come, "No need. We'll train our new Vigil quite well..."

Without hesitation, they left their separate ways before anyone could process what truly happened. The trio barely met eyes as they were torn apart. That fateful day was only the first before their world would truly fall apart.

(Part 2: https://yeet-imma-skeet.tumblr.com/post/613800854138552320/the-sky-has-fallen)

[letters-from-m]

I went to London one year ago. I fell in love...with more than just a person...a time, a place, a rhythm of living, myself.

I knew that it would happen. Even though I told myself it couldn’t, despite the idea that it’s preposterous to think you could have that soul mate, butterfly, heart tripping feeling about a whole country.

It’s like I lived and died both vividly, both throughly, both feelings occurring simultaneously in the crisp autumn air of the Thames.

I was with my housemate. Two wide eyed innocents taking on the whole of England with girlish giggles, the only thing on our mind was the bookish shenanigans we might find ourselves in.

In all honesty we were husband hunting for her, we’ll call her E, my housemate, like regency era twits. We’re both Austen fans so it’s no surprise that Pride and Prejudice plots were rampaging through our minds.

We spent our first glorious night tucked away in a Notting Hill flat, second story up a perfectly quaint staircase, complete with a modest chandelier, retro tea pot and toaster, and of course a wall of all the classic books a girl could want. However, my favorite part was the bed.

I’m a bit of a “Princess and the Pea” type, so judging a good bed is as natural to me as Sherlock referring to Watson as “my dear”. This bed was an exceptional example of all my dreams and desires for a bed. I’ll do my best to spare you what may seem like trivial details but to say I slept well would be an understatement. I slept the sleep of Aurora and a 100 years.

The second night we traveled to Vauxhall Station and settled in a garden room on Fentiman Road. By all accounts it was a posh neighborhood and while this set of beds were somewhat lacking, the garden provided us with a rather provincial feeling of homeiness and gave us a view of many foxes and squirrels. Which for two farm town American girls...wildlife shouldn’t be a great novelty but everything in and about England is a novelty.

We spent the first several days of our trip pub hoping from one historical pub to the next (namely The Hoop and Grapes and Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese) as well as touring the town (Tate Britain Museum amongst other things). Our grand galavant led us to a gala at Royal Albert Hall.

For me Albert Hall was at the emotional height of my experience as a whole. Queen Victoria holds a deep and meaningful place in my heart for being a headstrong girl and formidable woman, if a little controlling in the grappling sort of way. She was my coming of age story, both watch on big screen and read over and over.

We almost missed the call time, tube line being on strike, and had to walk miles across London’s cobblestone sidewalks in pinching high heels. It’s not as if we were really going to meet the Queen but we certainly dressed for it. We arrived during the National Anthem, and had to tiptoe to the top tier of the circle so as not to set off any loyalists with our disrespectful assent. We settled in for the show of our lives, or my life rather...because I’m a romantic and E is most decidedly not. What followed the show was a very British encore, complete with red white and blue lights ricochetting of the great mushroom acoustic keepers, and the red velvet chairs snapping with relief as we all stood to applauded a great conductor and a chior that seemed to have a thousand voices.

With the train strikes we tutted home to Vauxhall on a bus with some new friends, an elderly snowy haired woman and her younger salt and pepper haired sister. We discovered that they too loved Royal Albert Hall and just happened to shop at the corner grocers as us.

We hopped off at our stop, bidding a good night to all, and as soon as our dresses were tossed off and dressing gowns tossed on we ordered pizza. Because no girl can be truly glamorous without pizza.

We dozed off in a coma of pizza and wine, dreaming of red velvet and dead queens...hardly knowing that the next day would unlock a fate neither of us were prepared for.

[092040]

Places I hate with Twin Cities

For so long, I wanted to fall in love with a Hmong boy.

I wanted someone who could understand my own struggles, the toxicity of my own culture, someone who shared the same experiences and came from a similar background. I dreamt for such a long time to feel the embrace and caress of another person who was just like me.

Four hours away, Twin Cities came to visit me. We were young and we were naive, but even young love was still love. And I loved Twin Cities like I had never before. Late night calls, constant messaging throughout the days, video chats, it felt blissful. I learned to love places I spent with people.

The big park in the small town and city I lived in was where he took photos of me. We kissed, printed and framed it without shame in my bedroom, squared just on our lips. The large pine where we sat and kissed, where I first learned about butterflies in your stomach, escaping through your breath. Never again in my life would I get the same feeling. Stolen from me.

Sitting on the steps of that huge library, wearing his glasses. Inside his car as one last meeting, a goodbye that cold winter day.

Like any usual night his number and name flashed on my phone. Cheerily I answered, his voice worried, told me the situation, asked for my parents. The rest was a blur. His mom was on the phone, my parents on the other line. It seemed like hours passed. My mom came back gave me my phone and said, “See, I told you so.” Months ago, I came out to her asking her for to understand. But she could not go against my Dad.

That was the end of it. We were done. We were ousted, I was outed against my own terms, conditions, and will. There was nothing I could do. The next few years I lived in hell constantly fighting and screaming with my dad, shamed and made fun of yet I bit my tongue.

Twin Cities and I fought, snuck in phone calls, still in love, trying to keep the fire alive. What seemed like a two way street slowly became a one way. Emotionally and mentally exhausted Twin Cities gave up. For the next year, I fought, I held on tightly to whatever I could, stubbornly refusing to give up.

He started to talk to girls, kissed them, dated them. It was all a lie, I told myself. If he truly felt how I did, he wouldn’t be able to do it for long. But the audacity of this girl, to tell me to hit the high road.

It took me years to come to terms with Twin Cities. The places I loved became places I hated. Minnesota as a whole state became a place I never wanted to hear or visit. The same park we took photos I never wanted to go back to. The people were ones I never cared for. I wanted to forget.

Phone calls later, maybe in an attempt to apologize when we were teenagers, Twin Cities told me I was his soul mate, but that didn’t mean that he had to be with me. He truly believed I was his one and only. I scoffed. I remember thinking to myself, ‘If that’s how you truly felt, then why the hell did you give up? Why did you do all those things to me?’ I didn’t respond. I didn’t want to naively repeat back something to him that I truly didn’t feel, and even if he was, I stopped believing in fate and destiny of lovers.

...

Many, many years later, Twin Cities came to New York City to visit. Time had healed the pieces of my heart he had broken, the scars he left me to mend for myself. I met him, saw him as a friend, a lover from a long time ago. I was living a life where I was not bound to others views of me, and I hoped he would be too.

That weekend, I agreed to say with him and his friend in an AirBnb so I could show them around, take them places and be closer than commuting back and forth. That night, a movie night turned into Twin Cities and I sleeping out on the pull-out sofa in the living room, his friend in the main bedroom. Friends can sleep side-by-side, I had no qualms about it.

Not even before I could relax my mind to sleep, Twin Cities came onto me. Hands reaching for places like he owned me, like I was an open door waiting for him to come inside. “Stop,” I remember repeating multiple times. I remember him telling me that he would rape me, force himself onto me, even if it made me hate him. But he forgot how strong I was, forgot how I was always stronger. With legs glued shut, hands covering my dignity, I stopped him from forcing his way in.

“You don’t get to leave and come back like nothing happened,” I remember thinking, maybe even saying to him.

The rest of the night was a blur, but he stopped his shenanigans.

The next morning, I put on a false face as if nothing happened. We rode the bus back into the city, Twin Cities sitting next to me, me listening to my music, his hand taking one of the buds, slipping it into his ears.

See, I had stopped believing in fate and destiny in love, but I started to believe that whoever was up there was sending me messages through music, a random song played, the lyrics you heard turned you off. I was afraid to hurt your feelings, but grateful the music spoke to you.

You made me learn to hate the places I loved and I didn’t want to leave a place I made my own without you.

[donatello-writes]

Not Quite Human, Part III - Donatello x Reader

Part II can be found here --> (x)

Part IV can be found here -> (x)

Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains. I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me, For I am much ashamed of my exchange: But love is blind and lovers cannot see.

-The Merchant of Venice

Trembling still, Donatello started backing away again slowly with intent to abscond through the window behind him. Not seeing the chew toy in his path, he tripped over it and fell backwards, and he kept falling...and falling...The vision of your fear-stricken face at the forefront of his mind. Awakening with a start, he sat up in his bed and buried his face into his hands. 

"It was...just a nightmare?" He asked himself in shallow breaths, shaken from how real the illusion felt. Taking a few moments to find calm, he finally rose from his bed to go about his routine. As the day wore on, the genius became caught up in his work, and lost track of time. Before he knew it, he was already running late for his date with you. 

**********************************

Your nerdy sweetheart waved to you as he ran up, this time he came wearing a new and intriguing accessory which promptly caught your attention, "I like your goggles, very steampunk." Surprised, he felt the top of his head to find that he'd forgotten to take them off. So accustomed to having his goggles on all the time, he didn't even notice that they were still there. He was honestly shocked that this had not happened sooner. With a small smile, he prepared to humble brag about his creation.

"You make fun, but these are actually functional," He stated matter-of-factly while pushing his glasses up his nose. When you gave him a look of skepticism, he removed the item from his head and held it out to you. "Would you like to test them out?" He offered, trying his best not to appear too overly confident as he did so. 

Laughing incredulously, you humored him, and donned the apparatus. Much to your amazement, they were fully operational. The invention provided biological breakdowns of various objects within it's range. When you turned your gaze to Donatello, he was careful to avoid your line of sight. For just a few seconds, his chemical make-up flickered before your eyes as you managed to catch a glimpse of him through the lenses. 

The information disappeared before you could read it as your lanky beau slipped behind you and attempted to pluck the gadget from your head. Removing them yourself, you held the invention out just far enough to keep it from his grasp. The device listed so much data at once that it was difficult to fully absorb. However, one thing in particular stood out...His heat signature, it was far too low for a human being. You stored that information into the annals of your mind for future contemplation.

Mouth agape, you began your adulation, "You...made these?! They’re incredible!" You exclaimed as you proceeding to marvel at the technical intricacies of the small apparatus. 

He chuckled heartily at your response as he pursued the repossession of his belonging, "Try not to sound so shocked, I'm an...inventor, of sorts." You swatted away his hands and released a haughty laugh. 

"Alright, give them back, you cannot be trusted with those!" He finally demanded, and you continued to deny his request, holding them behind you with a firm shake of your head. 

"No way, they're mine now!" You refused him once more, and the two of you continued to wrestle for the trinket; all the while laughing hysterically. The young man's chortle quickly turned into snorts as he continued to reach for his possession. 

"That is insanely adorable," You complimented his dorky laughter and his face became flushed. 

The position in which the two of you had found yourselves was incredibly romantic, and his heart fluttered in his chest. Only mere inches separated your lips from meeting. Locked in a introvert's stale-mate, you both waited for the other to make a move. Despite his outwardly human appearance, Donatello still felt like a mutant. He couldn't believe that someone as attractive as you would ever want to kiss someone like him. He especially didn't expect you to reciprocate if he were to attempt a lip lock with you, but that fact failed to quash his yearning. 

Being very methodical, it was unlike the genius to act on impulse. He would always plan out a strategy before taking action to ensure the most favorable outcome. However, at that moment, he threw caution to the wind. He knew that if he didn't act now while he had the perfect opportunity, he never would. As if you both were dancing, he held you in a dip and slowly moved in. Your widened eyes followed his lips as they lingered longingly over yours. He wanted to kiss you, but hadn't the courage. Shying away at the last second, he planted a gentle kiss on your cheek.

In an act of bravery fueled by need, you decided to take his action further. It was just a quick peck, but the spontaneity of the gesture roused something deep within Donatello. A shudder of anticipation suddenly ran throughout his body. What followed was a low, mellifluous, churr that welled up from his chest. The unexpected vocalism caused both of the young lovers to flinch. The amorous lad reflexively gasped as his mind quickly placed the sound, making you fear that you had been too forward. 

"I'm sorry!" You panicked, breaking the embrace, and taking a few steps away from him. Unsure of what else to say, you waited for his response on held breath.

"Y/N, don't be sorry! It was...nice." He said dreamily, unable to forget the softness of your lips on his. In the back of his mind, he was concerned about his clearly inhuman bodily hiccup. Thankfully, you didn't appear to be too concerned about it. Not even Donatello, himself, was aware of this uncontrollable trait. The braniac knew actual turtles churred when mating, but never thought he'd exhibit it; writing it off as an impossibility, given that he was part human. He wondered why it never manifested before now. Perhaps the emotional connection that he shared with you drew it out.

But the two of you weren't even close to engaging in what was scientifically considered to be mating. It was merely a kiss, and a chaste one at that. Admittedly, he was getting hot and bothered from that alone, with the help of his imagination. When his mind fixated on the idea of the two of you being intimate, his face turned red. Another humm emitted from his body, this time much louder. It served as a rude awakening from his daydream. That one was impossible for you to miss, and you gave him a vexed look.

The infatuated young man's blissful expression quickly fell as he searched his mind for a response, "That was...my...stomach! I'm starving! A-are you hungry? Do you want to go and get some food? I'm thinking Italian," His words stumbled out feebly, eyes refusing to meet yours. Meanwhile, all you could do was guffaw at his odd reaction to something as normal as stomach rumbling. 

"What's inside that stomach of yours? A zoo?" the well-timed joke lifted the awkwardness of the situation, and successfully calmed your beau's nerves. This was feigned ignorance, however, as you perceived something strange in his so-called stomach noises; but you chose not to broach the subject, as he appeared to be extremely self-conscious about it. 

The sounds were far too guttural to be of the stomach, they almost sounded...bestial. You'd heard a similar sound before, but couldn't place it. Deciding that you needed to investigate further, you returned to the reality from which your mind had wandered. Donatello was guiding you along as he prattled away about this amazing Italian restaurant that he loved, which just so happened to be nearby. This was a insubstantial attempt to distract you from what had just occurred. 

Stopping without warning, you brought your chatty date to a halt as well. The bespectacled boy turned to you in confusion, "Is everything alright? Why'd you stop all of the sudd-" not allowing him to finish his inquiry, you threw your arms around his neck, and pulled him into a kiss. Though surprised, he hesitantly embraced the sudden display of affection. Shaky hands meeting your waist, and resting there apprehensively.

Curiosity got the best of you, as you tried to draw out that unusual sound from him again. You'd noticed that it previously happened during your close encounter earlier, and decided to test the theory. When the result that you expected failed to occur, you released him, trying to mask the disappointment you felt in the experiment's failure. 

Perhaps it really was his stomach after all, you resolved to put it to rest...for the moment. Donatello gave you a look of befuddlement, but swiftly picked up on your motivation after brief contemplation. While the likelihood of you coming to the conclusion that he was a giant mutant turtle was statistically improbable, giving you a cause for suspicion still wasn't good.

The brainy young man was partially impressed that you'd gathered so much information from such a quick, and unpredicted irregularity. This was truly unsurprising, though, he knew that you had a brilliant mind. Donatello cursed his biological makeup, his errant turtle moan was costing him dearly. 

Sudden booms of thunder offered a perfectly timed distraction from the shenanigans at hand. Darkened clouds swirled in the distance, threatening a coming storm. Exchanging glances of concern you both agreed to seek cover, and the aforementioned dining establishment was the perfect place to go. 

The eatery was everything that Donatello had promised and more. The two of you indulged in pasta, delightful conversation, and of course...tiramisu. Upon finishing your meal, you walked outside together to discover that it still had yet to rain. And the threat was still promising, as the sky remained a deep purple. This unforeseen weather complication put a kibosh on your outdoor date plans. Given the circumstances, the two of you agreed to cut the date short. Much to the dismay of both parties. 

As per usual, your date bid you goodnight outside of your high rise apartment, being far too shy to invite himself in. Glancing at him flirtily, you offered hospitality, "Would you like to come up to my place?" 

He shrank at your inquiry, knowing full well that he only had an hour or so left until he changed back into he old turtle self. That wasn't much time in the grand scheme of things, and he simply didn't want to risk it. The once distant rumbling suddenly grew louder, and raindrops began to fall, swiftly escalating into a downpour. Hand-in-hand, you ran for shelter at the door of your building. The space was barely enough to cover you both.

"Wow, these rom-com clichés follow you like a shadow, huh?" You tittered as the two of you huddled together underneath the small overhang, nearly soaked to the bone; bodies firmly pressed against one another in order to fit. The intimate proximity enticed romantic ventures, chests rising and falling with synced breaths. Desire swirled in his golden eyes, and at that moment, he didn't overthink. Instead, he took your lips in his with adrenaline-fueled confidence. Impassioned and deep, it felt as though the storm had stricken you both with it's threat. 

An electricity passed between your bodies, coursing through, and enlivening you with each traded kiss. Having no prior experience in kissing wasn't too much of a problem for the mutant in disguise, it was simply the proper application of jaw mechanics and tongue movement. In technique he was prepared, but what he wasn't prepared for was the passionate intensity of the experience. He felt as though his heart would break free from his rib cage at the rate it was beating. When you came up for air, all that you could do was utter a single word with shaky breath...

"Wow." and when you stumbled back a bit, he caught you, an unfaltering smile lighting up his features. You then cupped his face with both hands and locked eyes with him as you prepared to deliver the most unparalleled of witticisms.

"I'm cashing in my raincheck." You voiced with a prideful grin, and your beau stifled a laugh. The cleverness of your one-liner was undeniable. He couldn't resist such a convincing argument, especially not after that kiss. 

"Okay, but I can only stay for one hour!" Donatello stated his time limit decisively, and you nodded in agreement. 

Together, you headed up to the apartment and made your way inside. Various framed posters lined the corridor of the entrance, all from iconic horror and fantasy films. The first was The Wolfman, followed by Creature from the Black Lagoon, Pan's Labyrinth, and finally, Frankenstein. You watched as your guest scanned the hangings with delight, and continued leading him to the main room. It was spacious and well decorated with paintings, and knick-knacks, but not overly cluttered. Several art supplies laid on the tables, and there was even a sewing machine on it's own desk. 

"Wow, you're quite the jack of all trades, huh?" He chuckled as he gestured to the Singer Quantum Stylist 9985 in the corner.

"Yes, I dabble in many hobbies." You answered with a cheeky smile.

The young man's eyes continued to travel the room in awe before finally settling on one painting specifically. A relatively large oil painting that was hard to miss, but not because of it's size. The subject matter was of particular interest to the turtle in human’s clothing. On it was a woman with a sea monster, the two of them exchanging a deep loving gaze as they floated within the murky depths of the ocean. Recognizing it immediately as the final scene from The Shape of Water, Donatello smiled wide.

Drawing close for a better look, he couldn't hide his appreciation for the work. He knew the patience that it took to paint with oils, but moreso, admired the piece because it gave him...hope. Becoming entranced, he absendmindedly muttered under his breath, "For loue is blynd alday and may nat see." 

You barely picked up what he'd said was it...Latin? No, Middle English. Watching as he marveled at the work you let out a muffled chuckle. His facial features spoke volumes: amazement, respect, and something more. There was an evident understanding in his expression, gaze fixed on the monster, as if they shared some sort of kinship.

Realizing that he was acting peculiar, he turned to you with a dorky smile and bestowed a compliment, "Y/N...This is...gorgeous."

Jolting at the admiration, your breath hitched, "T-thank you...I painted it." You stuttered as you grabbed two towels from a nearby closet. Feeling warmth flow to your cheeks, you ran into the other room to gather dry clothing. After taking a few seconds to calm yourself, you returned, throwing a hooded sweatshirt and basketball shorts to Donatello.

Catching the garments launched in his direction, he continued to shower you with adoration, "You really painted this?! That's incredible...It's amazing!" 

All you could do was nod sheepishly. "Thank you! It's not really that great, there are so many anatomical errors and..." Your train of thought trailed off as you noticed his clothes dripping still from the rain. 

With a chuckle you shifted the conversation, "Alright, you've appreciated my artwork enough! We should get changed before we catch colds." Just as you finished your sentence, your date absentmindedly removed his shirt. Stunned at the sight, you couldn't help but stare. You'd never noticed his lean muscular build previously, since he always wore long sleeves.

Once he became aware of his social blunder, he swiftly recovered with a joke, "Do you mind?" He then placed a hand on his hip, raised one eyebrow, and shifted to a stance that radiated sass.

Still awe-struck, you responded in an unbothered tone before getting the hint, "No--Oh-oh-oh! Excuse me." before retreating into your room once more. Peering through the crack in your door, you looked him up and down while biting your lower lip. Once he shot a playful glare in your direction, you swiftly closed it, but not without getting one, "Bye!" in before doing so. Both of you exploded with laughter at your near-perfectly executed Road to El Dorado scene. 

Following your wardrobe change, you wandered out of your room. Hands over your eyes, you loudly announced your entrance. When you peeked through your fingers to see him decent, a huff of disappointment escaped your lips and he chuckled. The nerdy lad then gave you an amused look as he gestured to the graphic on the kelly green sweatshirt that you'd chosen for him, "Ha ha, very funny." 

Twisting your face into a mischievous grin, you suppressed the urge to giggle and shrugged, "It was the only long sleeve thing I had that would fit you." unable to withhold it any longer, you finally burst into laughter upon reading the ‘Talk Nitrogen, Erbium, and Dysprosium to me’ periodic table of elements joke that adorned the garment. The merriment was cut short when the sound of barking echoed from the other room. 

"Oh no, my poor baby! I'm sorry, do you mind if I let my dog, Noodles, out to meet you?" You asked, and your handsome suitor responded with an affirmative nod of his head.

The dog bounded out into the living area once he was released from confinement, eager to meet the new guest. Prior to getting close, the chocolate brown labrador retriever froze in place and sniffed the air. The animal then proceeded to hesitantly approach, almost as if he was unsure what to make of Donatello. Tilting his head in confusion, he refused to draw in too near. Matching your canine companion's response, you were equally perplexed as you watched the interaction. The pooch didn't growl, nor did he cower, he merely stood at attention before your lanky beau. Finally coming to the decision to lay down on the floor, the pup wagged his tail lightly while keeping his eyes focused on the visitor.

"That was a little weird, but I suppose that it's a good sign...he typically gets aggressive with the men that I bring over. He's my barometer for character." You smiled as you made your way over to the couch, gesturing for Donatello to come and sit with you. Plagued by nerves, he sat a fair amount of space away from you.

"So, how'd you know that I had a dog when we first met?" a question meant to distract from the awkwardness of the situation, but only worsened it. The nervous young man flinched at your question, he hoped that you had forgotten, but he should have known better.

"You just...looked like a dog person," He knew that was a terrible explanation, and judging from the look on your face, you didn't buy it. 

"I suppose that I can accept that as an answer." You motioned with just your index and middle fingers from your eyes to him, in a silent indication that said I'm watching you. The reasoning for how he had guessed your dog ownership was not at the forefront of your mind, however. The nerdy young man chuckled at your attempt at intimidation, snort making an appearance. His laugh made you weak and you fought yet another blush that tried to form on your cheeks. 

Meeting his gaze coyly, you closed the gap between the two of you. Donatello knew what was coming, the burning look in your eyes was telling. Regardless, his heart nearly burst through his chest when you drew in intimately close; bringing your face just inches away from his. The shy young man's nerves got the best of him, and he froze like a deer in headlights. The moment the two of you shared outside of the building was a fit of spontaneous passion. Now, with a clear head, the anxious lad's overactive brain stole his bravery from him. All of his insecurities flashed before his eyes, and proved to be an imposing force.

The blush that crossed his cheeks was accompanied by a broad smile, indicating his interest. He was simply immobilized by uncertainty. Expecting this hesitation, you happily took the lead, pressing your lips softly to his. Your lips tasted so sweet, just as they had before, and Donatello could barely handle it. Without realizing it, he allowed a soft, blissful moan escape him. You responded with a giggle causing him to stammer out a flustered apology. For him, this experience was entirely new, but he couldn't tell you that.

"It's okay, it was cute." You assured him, and he simply replied with an awkward chuckle. 

Slowly, you moved in closer and Donatello followed your direction, sliding down into a reclining position. It wasn't long before you found yourselves laying together on the couch that you'd previously been sitting on. With you on top of him, his heart was now racing, face still beet red as he scrambled to keep up. His body began emitting the low humming sound that you'd since become accustomed to hearing. 

"Jeeze, you work up an appetite pretty easily, huh?" You teased.

"Yeah, but I'm not hungry for food...I'm hungry for you--S-sorry, that was awful." He snorted, critiquing his own terrible pick-up line as he made it. 

Tilting your head you grinned, "I liked it," upon hearing your positive feedback, he then found the courage to wrap his arms around you. This gesture caused you to move from his lips to his neck. Donatello wasn't sure how much more of this he could take, his sensory levels were about to hit critical mass. 

Oh, no...

The fun came to an abrupt end when he felt that indicative tingling overcome him, which only meant one thing. Panic replaced pleasure when amorous young man realized the effects of the ooze were beginning to wear off. It would not be long before he began reverting back to his actual form. He searched his mind for a plausible excuse, but in his flustered state, couldn't come up with even one. 

By this time you had moved back up to his lips and continued kissing Donatello, who couldn't help but reciprocate. Sure, he was concerned for his current state of affairs, but he wanted this so badly. Knots twisted inside his stomach, and he could feel the plates of his plastron reforming underneath his clothing. In the most inconvenient timing, you happened to find your hand on his abdomen, and he whimpered. 

"Huh. That's odd." you were rightfully baffled by this unexpected sensation. Just as you positioned your hand to lift the hoodie, the fretful lad quickly intercepted it.

"S-sorry, I gotta go!" He blurted out, unable to hide his discomfort. Proceeding to slide out from under you, he leapt from the couch nimbly, and made his way towards the door. 

"Wait! Donnie...what's wrong?" You reached out and took a gentle hold of his wrist, feeling a roughness that wasn't there previously. The panicked young man looked down in horror at his now lightly scaled forearm, watching as the rough skin slowly became more prominent and attained a greenish hue. Yanking his arm away, he pulled down the sweatshirt sleeve to conceal it. 

Words fell out of his mouth clumsily, "uh...uuuh...it's a skin condition..." a flimsy elucidation only made worse by the addition of an awkward smile. 

When both of his hands began to tremble, and he instinctively hid them behind his back. He then started to walk hastily in reverse to the exit. Meanwhile, his index and middle fingers began slowly fusing back together with his ring and pinky fingers following suit. Once he made it to the door he fumbled nervously with the handle attempting to open it, a task that proved difficult given his current complications. 

The door finally opened, and without looking, he backed his way through. Before closing the door he gave you one last apologetic look from across the room, hoping that you'd forgive him for his unusual behavior. Much to his dismay, he found himself in your bathroom. He'd made a critical mistake. Donatello swore up and down this was the exit. Now he was effectively trapped by both embarrassment for what had just transpired, and fear that you'd find out what he really is before he was ready to tell you.

A soft knock came from the other side of the bathroom door making the fretful anthropomorphic young man yelp. "Donnie...are you okay?" You called to him, with genuine concern in your voice. 

"Ye-yeah...everything is just fine." He lied, clenching his teeth as he did so. The vanity mirror gave him a perfect view of his current appearance, skin slowly becoming saturated with green and nose flattening into a cream-colored snout. He turned his head away, not wanting to watch his reversion. Scanning the expanse of the the bathroom, he was relieved to find a window. He clambered through the aperture before even giving it a second thought. And then he was gone, down the fire escape of your high rise apartment building. Like a coward he ran, with his transformation nearing completion, and an overwhelming sense of guilt washing over him as he fled into the shadows.

...to be continued.

[eponinemylove]

Would you mind explaining Wolf 359? I keep seeing your posts about it on my dash and it looks interesting, but i dont really know what it's about. (I read the google provided summary, but i find fans give a much more complete/understandable account. Sorry if this bothers you, just ignore if you want! Thanks!)

buddy oh boy you came to the right person! i love this show dearly but haven’t gotten far enough to truly spoil much. happy to answer, my friend

so wolf 359 is really interesting! i got into it tentatively because, like yourself, i saw it around on my dash here and there and i thought, hey, i love disaster characters and space. wolf 359 delivered! it starts out with most of the storytelling coming from audio logs of the communications officer, Eiffel, onboard this space station that is orbiting a red dwarf star. Eiffel and his two crew mates plus Hera, an AI, get into some wholesome shenanigans up there in space, a couple hundred light years away from earth. the season kind of ends with a mutiny and the realization that something wrong is definitely going on, and their situation is not as... orthodox as they were led to believe. also the storytelling switches to regular every day dialogue, not limited to officer logs or a running recorder. this is season one

season two brings even more shenanigans except definitely a lot less wholesome and a lot more high stakes! the Hephaestus, their ship, is constantly... well falling apart might be an exaggeration, but along those lines. Hera is glitchy at best and straight up unreliable at her worst. the team isn’t sure who to trust, what to do, or how they’re ever going to get home! and, just when they thought they couldn’t be farther away from other life, more people just keep showing up. It’s a mess. one borderline catastrophe after another.

and it just keeps going from there! there are a few seasons, plus a live episode recording, and a few feature/mini episodes! it’s a great series with really interesting and hilarious characters! and, best part, it’s not even slow to start off! you get thrown pretty quick into the action. very easy to listen too, not overly complicated, plenty of great hijinks plus some surprisingly thought out philosophical undertones