#and while I had a vague idea for his stuff I decided to develop him and it quickly got out of hand lol

[chisatowo]

Uh oh *starts getting attached to Mocha's bio mom*

#rat rambles #oc posting #shes uh. super dead #Ive been developing some other shit and its lead to mocha's mom going from being the unfortunate victim of a false time travel loop to #instead being the victim of a whole load if other horrible shit from me developing a whole other character's backstory #he doesnt have a name yet but he was risa's mentor in her timeline and is also mocha's half brother #neither mocha or risa know that last but though for a good while #and while I had a vague idea for his stuff I decided to develop him and it quickly got out of hand lol #so now hes kinda there in the main story? I havent decided how much though since idk if I wanna put risa through too much shit #her timelines version of him kinda maybe super traumatized them #but I actually do think that despite knowing its not that important mocha does care abt knowing what happened to their bio mom #monarch held onto a photo from the house that they murdered her in so thats how mocha was promted to consider her existence #they mainly just wanted to know if they were stolen or if she was killed or what kinda hoping that itd give some explenation for smth #and I figured that since the guy is a half brother and around their mom's age that hed probably have met her #so yeah rip to her now things go further back with this worlds biggest shithead #I might try designing her tonight since I plan on staying up a bit late anyways but no promises

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

If Chase Yuong and the First Ninja start a fight, who will win in your opinion? Either way, it's going to be epic.

anon ANON thank you. I've been dying to think more about those two in the same context, ever since i realized the similarities of these two idiots i like (greenish hair? martial artist? magical? kinda lived long???) But i've shoved those crossover-ish ideas away since i am busy with other stuff lol. but this gives me an excuse >;)

Ok, if we do NOT take canons in consideration (because lets be truthful, cartoons rarely can give a full scope of a character to our satisfactions lol) so I have 2-3 vague scenarios in which they clash (IMO either of them can win??? (because i like them both, even if i am more of First fan, so I cant decide who of them winning would be more entertaining lol)):

If First Ninja in his prime (sometime after imprisoning Sorcerer but before the Ultimate Lesson) clashed with 700 yo Chase Young (since this fucker is canonically 1500 yo) who would probably try to defeat First in order to make him part of his Jungle Cats harem:

Chase is ridiculously, stupidly overpowered but one could argue that at 700 he hasn't yet reached the height of all his powers, so First would certainly have a fighting chance. First is supposedly uniquely trained since (probably) his birth by his Ninja Clan and continuous battles with the Sorcerer (and most likely other creatures, like Sorceress and Tengu and etc.) throughout his teenage-young adult life to take on enemies like Chase - overpowered magical beings/soulless monsters - with the help of Ninja Mask and all its powers.

Admittingly, in this case the win will most likely go to Chase, if only because of his experience and overwhelming array of powers at his disposal. Though considering we do not know the full scope of Ninja Mask's powers, First has like maybe 15-25% chance to win (and at least 30-45% in my mind if i consider my own hc about the mask lol), but not 0%.

If First Ninja's 800 yo. spirit somehow was released from/embodied by Ninjanomicon to clash with 1500 yo Chase Young in the Modern Present:

Here a lot of my hc come in play. I fully believe that if First - with all the developed abilities, experiences, memories, power (and possibly spirits) acquired during his stay/merge within the Ninjanomicon and from over like 200 people who ever used the mask over 800 years - fought 1500 yo Chase - who spent at least a century or 2 or 3?? hidden away in his Fortress, growing just a bit complacent, since he clearly became too strong and thus bored of the world when it couldn't offer him decent opponents anymore, at least not until current Monks - the fight could go either way.

Chase is still stupidly OP, but its clear that he was deprived of good opponents for a loooooong time, since he resorted to fight against/taunt teenagers and Omi, who is basically a kid still. And they frequently managed to outmanoeuvre him in their confrontations, if not in an actual hand-to-hand fight then at least in common sense lol.

Meanwhile First trained and learned with his each of his successors years in and out, and while we dont know exactly what sort of things happened, we can say for sure that the fighting was continuous. Ninja barely had any rest, for the Sorcerer probably attracted chaos inclined allies and minions and thus a never ending stream of enemies for Ninja to battle.

If basic bitches clash aka OG Good Chase and First Ninja before he was First Ninja:

This is just for fun and because I fully believe that pre-Ninja Mask First will trounce Good Chase. xD

We do not know Chase's past, and there are various headcanons on how he came to be a Xiaolin Monk, but let's just say that judging by his apperance and XS voice, he is probably a very young adult-ish before he drunk his Soup, so he most likely was a Monk since at least his pre-teen/teen years. He appears to be insecure in his Monk-ness and in his abilities to become the greatest warrior despite his competence, since he was swayed/manipulated/convinced? to sell his soul to a demon for more power and freedom from Monk values.

If we judge First's appearance and voice, he would be perhaps a slight bit older than Chase when he became The Ninja, and not to mention since he was born into the Ninja Clan, he was likely trained since he was very young. His personality appears to be very studious and there is certainly a great deal of strength in his character since he not only managed to continue on with his duty even after loosing his brothers but also not succumbing to the overwhelming Power of the Mask that can corrupt those of weak belief and hold the title of the Ninja longer than anyone else.

(Not to mention I am of very biased opinion that Ninjas are cooler than Monks. lol. Also we can assume they all have magic of some sort. Like think Naruto like Ninjas and Xiaolin Elemental Dragons/Monks.)

ALSO in case 1, obviously if they fought with the agreement that if Chase wins he would ABSOLUTELY add First into his Jungle Cat harem. First will most likely add/request a stipulation that Ninja Mask was not taken with First and I can see Chase honoring that agreement, so the Ninja legacy will continue on and Chase still gets an incredible warrior to his ranks, and perhaps more warriors if the future ex-Ninjas would decide to try and fight him later on. ;)

(first's animal form would be either a leopard or iriomote cat (both native to Japan) or a crow because tengu connection/associations ;D )

And if First wins, he certainly would figure out how to contain Chase, (perhaps even in the Ninjanomicon itself hohoho) since he somehow managed to contain a sorcerer that controls chaos with some binding, magic from a mythical beast and in a deep hole that perhaps connected to some dark realm, like??

;)

#que? #rc9gn first ninja #first ninja #chase young #xiaolin showdown #rc9gn #crossover #ninja showdown #long post #i am so sorry for the length but i got so passionate about this i think im creating an au in my head now lol #also i think i accidentally mentally added gay tension between those two im going INSANE #im sick and i keep giggling about it so now my throat is sore and i probably have a fever but alkfa;skd

[invested-in-your-future]

It's truly amazing how anyone can genuinely believe that the malarkey that is RWBY v4-9 was planned from the beginning.

Eh, depends on which parts.

As one watches the milesWBY volumes, it's pretty apparent which parts of the story beats feel like "intended" bullet points and which ones are stuff they just filled up with random nonsense.

Like, obviously all the brother gods and relics and vaults are one hundred percent Miles absurdity. Likewise, nobody can convince me that they always intended Atlas to fly, especially with how WOR very explicitly portrays it as just another city in a better location.

But there's a lot of stuff that feels pretty obviously like something that was always going to happen - like Yang and Blake having to face Adam or Ironwood cracking under the pressure of the world on his shoulders.

Now, at the core, there's nothing wrong with adding elements to your story as you go - most writers do that.

The issue however is no matter if the plotlines are new or planned, execution is just a mess.

As an example - okay Yang and Blake are obviously going to have to face Adam at the end of their respective arcs as they figure out their things so...where are the arcs leading to it?

Where's the buildup, the development, the progression? Where are Yang and Blake dealing with their issues and then with the issues between them? Where's Adam's descent into nonsense as his power(the thing he would care about) is taken from him till he snaps?? It's not there.

So the final big face-off against the man who scarred them with tragedy lands with the gravitas and pizazz of a wet thud - it's an after-though, a "side quest" that just randomly pops up while the rest of the nonsense in that Volume is happening.

Likewise I do believe they had like bulletpoint that says "Team RWBY mistrusts Ozpin because he shady" or something

So the big build up of moral ambiguity ends up with Ozpin literally doing nothing and then everyone deciding he betrayed them or manipulated them. Where's the build up? Where's the actual REASONS to doubt Ozpin? Not there.

So the crucial moment of everyone rejecting Ozpin's nonsense ends up with a stupid stand off where everyone is mad about birds and the idea that Salem is undefeatable (when Grimm have been the threat for centuries and everyone SHOULD BY DEFAULT assume it can't be "stopped" and is just part of the world, helloooooooo?)

It's one of the reasons I DO believe parts of the story WERE pre-planned - because it's like the writers are doing their own annoying gods stuff and THEN suddenly remember that "oh right this plotpoint needs to happen sometime here" - so whoop dee doo Ironwood suddenly switches personalities without build-up and the like.

The jarring switches between something that HAS to happen versus just random padding are what tell me that there were specific plotpoints that maybe always were intended to happen - Neo would obviously have Wonderland allusions and stalk Ruby, Ironwood would obviously crack in a morally ambiguous way, Adam would obviously get defeated - but the writing staff simply have absolutely zero capability(OR interest) to build up to those plot points

They just happen, alongside all the completely milquetoast brother gods fanfic stuff.

It's like the writing team has vague bullet points of what has to happen but no idea or interest in building up to them because they are way too in love with their brother gods and relics nonsense. And in turn, the good plot points suffer and end up completely anticlimactic or a complete mess.

#rwby #rwde #ruby rose #yang xiao long #rwby meta #rwby analysis

[meimi-haneoka]

Cosmos - Akiho/Kaito one-shot

Once upon a time, when chapter 48 had definitively broken the cage to my admiration and support for the YunaAki pairing, I couldn't help but start imagining their future together.

And one of the first headcanons that came up to me was this one. Not in depth like you can see developed here, but the setting was definitely this one. An intimacy that didn't require for them to necessarily "jump on eachother". And for personal reasons, I needed to reclaim this headcanon so badly, write it down and release it to the world. Just because of that, I can already feel like this little thing spilled here will be one of my favorite writings.

I'm pretty sure this one, at more than 1600 words, is categorized as a fully fledged fic, right?

Now, this is another quite romantic one, but I managed to sneak in a tiny bit of delicious angst towards the end, just cause it's so much their element and I can't stand over-sugary stuff myself. I can't believe I also made actual research for this one. Get ready for some cosmic magic under the cut ✨

Genre: fluff, romance, a sprinkle of angst. Akiho is 17 years old. They haven't found a cure for Kaito yet, but! She has disclosed her true name to him. Snippet: "Akiho-san...do you know the origin of your name?" "...My name?" "Your true one."

All the curtains were closed tightly. The spacious living room was completely immersed in the darkness, except for a couple of scented candles on the ground, faintly illuminating the floor. Any hindrance out of the way. A generous number of soft cushions of all sizes was arranged on the floor, on top of a large camping mattress, right between the two candles.

Akiho threw herself enthusiastically on the pile of cushions, while Kaito lay down in a slower motion.

"....Ready?" Kaito whispered with a soft smile, while the girl next to him nodded excitedly, azure eyes shining in the dark.

One press on a button of the remote controller, and the whole ceiling turned into a sparkling planetarium.

Akiho gasped. "Oh my god....this is amazing!" She instinctively brought her hands to her face, covering partly her mouth while her voice was choking with emotion, a quirk that even at 17 years old she couldn't drop yet.

The starry vault rotated slowly, while some stars twinkled, giving a quite realistic effect to the scenery. Every now and then, a shooting star would appear randomly, inviting to make a wish.

Kaito looked to the side to check the reaction of the girl, pleased with himself. The star projector had been his present for Akiho's 17th birthday, but between study, book repairs and moving out to another country, they hadn't found a moment of quiet to put it in function. That perfect moment finally came this evening of December.

Of course he bought the most expensive model out there, and this one could even add sound effects to the experience, which he had set on sea waves through the remote control. The idea was "we're lying down on a deserted beach at night, in the early summer", instead of the chilling winter they were actually in.

"Kaito-san..." - Akiho moved her finger up in the air, "what constellation is that one?"

He had vaguely studied astronomy as part of his magic education, but he had forgotten a lot of it...for a moment he was tempted to use a magic spell, but then decided against it, not wanting to irritate the girl beside him. She always reprimanded him whenever he lazily tried to use his magic for the most mundane things. They hadn't found a cure for him yet, so she wanted him to keep the use of magic at the minimum, to avoid affecting his health. Therefore, he pulled himself up and went next to the star projector, changing the little disc with a different one.

The projection changed to a similar starry vault complete with the constellations map, and plopping down next to her, he said with a smile "Akiho-san, that seems to be Virgo!".

"Really?! That's my zodiac sign!!" Her brows furrowed for a moment, then "Indeed, with a bit of imagination that could look like a maiden...without a head". Kaito chuckled. "Wait, where's Pisces?"

Kaito checked the constellation map on his phone (which he had downloaded precisely for this occasion), and after a moment he indicated it, pointing his finger towards the ceiling. "Over there."

"....That one?! Oh....that looks more like a flower with two stems than actually two fishes, doesn't it?" she blurted out, laughing playfully.

"...Akiho-san..." Kaito couldn't help but chuckle again, reveling in the cheerfulness of his beloved. Nothing could send tingles to his heart like the sound of her laughter.

"Akiho-san...do you know the origin of your name?" "...My name?" "Your true one."

Akiho stared at him with curiosity, cheeks tinted slightly with a pink hue. The topic of their true names was usually off-limits. They didn't make a rule for it, but being both very well acquainted with the customs of the magic world, the unspoken agreement was to never bring them up...unless it was something serious.

"I was named after a flower, right?"

"Of course...but do you know why cosmos flowers were named that way?"

The girl stared at him, thinking for a moment about the question. She realized she never actually thought about why cosmos flowers bore that name. So, she shook her head slightly.

"Back in the 17th century, Spanish priests found the flowers in Mexico and cultivated them in their mission gardens."

He looked away from her, turning his gaze towards the starry sky.

"Originally, Kosmos is a Greek word that means 'order' or 'harmonious arrangement'. The priests were fascinated by those flowers' orderly arranged petals, they found them...." He paused.

"...Breathtakingly beautiful. And perfect." His eyes were now twinkling, still fixed on the firmament over their heads. "Just like the universe, the cosmos. So, they named those flowers after it."

Akiho's heartbeat quickened, and if she knew the man next to her well enough, his heart was doing just the same. They had spent enough time together for her to understand all too well what he was trying to say.

Kaito felt Akiho's hand searching for his, and they intertwined them silently.

"Thank you...I didn't know all of that. I've always thought that cosmos flowers were pretty, yes, but not particularly remarkable or unique... It is nice to know that the right people could see the true beauty and worth in them."

As if replying to her, she felt him squeezing her hand.

After a moment of silence, Akiho's right index finger moved up in the air once again. "Wait, what about that one? What is its name? It's big, but the stars don't look particularly bright"

"Hmm...Aquarius, apparently. This one would be basically impossible to see by naked eye, from an urban area."

Akiho made a face once again. "The water-bearer, hmmm... I can see his legs but...these constellations all seem to be missing their heads!", she blurted out, feigning annoyance.

Kaito couldn't hold it in, and burst out laughing, causing her to do the same.

Yes, she was just perfect the way she was.

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

Kaito groggily opened his eyes in the dim light of the candles, ceiling still covered with stars. The clock of the living room showed it was 2 am.

Clinging onto his right arm, Akiho was soundly asleep next to him. Consciousness rapidly washed over him, remembering what happened.

Akiho's exploration of the starry vault had gone on for more than an hour, but at some point her remarks and answers had become more and more absentminded, till he realized she had actually fallen asleep. Smiling tenderly at her slumbering form, he was ready to pull himself up to go pick up a blanket for her, and eventually arrange some cushions for himself farther away from the camping mattress (he didn't want to wake her up, but didn't want to leave her sleeping alone in the living room either), but he had quickly realized with dismay that she had turned on the side and literally latched onto his right arm.

He had frozen right there and then. He didn't want to wake her up, but he had started to overthink as usual - this is not appropriate, we shouldn't sleep together, what if-- The result was that the stress made him incredibly sleepy, and after a few minutes of ruminations, Morpheus had taken a hold of him too.

Now that he was fully awake, he mentally scolded himself for falling asleep, and proceeded to do what he didn't have the heart to do before: slowly, slowly, he tried to disentangle his arm from Akiho's grip. When he managed to slip away, he rose to go pick that blanket up, because he couldn't risk for Akiho to catch a cold due to his imprudence.

"Where are you going?"

Her tone made him stop in his tracks immediately. Turning around, what he saw made his heart drop.

Akiho was propped on her elbow, staring in his direction but not quite focused on him. She was clearly still half asleep, but what ripped Kaito's heart apart was her expression, halfway between a scowl and wanting to break into tears.

It didn't take him long to understand why she had that expression. Even after 4 years, the trauma he had caused to her resurfaced sometimes in her dreams, upsetting her when she woke up.

"I'm just going to get a blanket.....I'm not going anywhere." he answered, while painfully making sure to emphasize the last part.

Akiho blinked her eyes twice, awareness coming back to her. Her expression slowly turned into one of realization, then she looked briefly to her side, panicking. "Oh my god, I'm sorry...I didn't fall asleep on you, did I? ...I didn't want to bother you-"

"You've never bothered me once, Akiho-san."

The girl stared at him, misty-eyed. His expression was kind, but tinged with guilt. His figure against the starry ceiling reminded her of that fateful night, when he fought his stubborness and the monsters inside his head to go back to her.

The girl casted her eyes down and to the side, pink hue emerging on her cheeks once again. "Then...once you took that blanket...could you...could you get back here next to me?" she said softly, finding the courage to look up once again.

Kaito had already understood long time ago that he was done for. He knew that no matter how much he tried, he would've never been able to refuse anything to those blue eyes of hers. Especially if he wanted it himself, in the first place.

They stared at eachother for a moment, before Kaito breathed out the air he was unwittingly holding and said with a smile "I'd be happy to, Akiho-san."

Akiho beamed at him, sure more than ever that there wasn't any place on this Earth or in the entire cosmos where she could've felt safer, other than next to him.

#akiho shinomoto #yuna d. kaito #yunaaki #akiyuna #kaito x akiho #cosmos & crystals #spilled words #ccsakura #clear card arc #future fic #alright you need a LOT of imagination to recognize what the constellations are named after #lmao #I stand with Akiho #now if you excuse me I'll go buy a star projector #kaito is the usual smart guy unable to spell clearly his feelings #but compared to before we've grown a lot here #also a tiiiiiiiny bit of angst #what's their relationship status? #eeeeh kinda unclear they do lots of stuff couples do but they're not official yet

[neverasfarawayasitmayseemxo]

Meeting Him - Part 3

You shift in your seat uncomfortably, rubbing your fingers between the stem of the wine glass.

You weren't sure why you were so upset at his answer. You had a feeling that he was in a relationship but to actually hear him confirm it out loud was like a punch in the gut.

"How long have you been dating?" you ask, refusing to make eye contact with him.

He takes a moment to answer.

"Uh....about 9 months" he says.

You nod and take another sip.

"What's she like?" you ask. You had no idea why you were inquiring about his relationship...it clearly made you upset but you just had to know.

Austin runs his fingers through his hair. He seemed a little uncomfortable.

"She's a nice girl. We met through mutual friends...she's into modeling and stuff like that. She's cool" he says, keeping his answer pretty vague.

You scoff. He looks over at you and confused expression is spread across his face.

"What?"

You shake your head and take another sip.

"I just think it's kind of weird every time she has called, you haven't answered. I mean, if she's so cool, you'd answer her calls, right?" you snap.

Austin just looks at you, trying to find the words to say.

"I...I don't know. I didn't want to be rude..." he stammers.

You take one last sip of wine and push your glass away from you.

"I better head up to bed" you say.

Austin looks taken aback.

"But...it's not even 8:30 yet!" he exclaims as he glances at his watch.

You shrug and get up.

"Eh...I'm tired" you mutter.

You grab your bag and sling it over your shoulder and place the book under your arm.

"Is this because of the girlfriend thing?" he asks.

You look at him and cackle.

"Oh god, no. Definitely not"

Austin looks down at his whiskey and sighs.

"Well, would you want to hangout tomorrow?" he asks.

You look at him in disbelief. Why did he want to hangout with you so badly when he had a girlfriend?

"I'm busy tomorrow, sorry. Have a goodnight, Austin" you say. With a quick turn on your heel, you head for the elevator. You don't even bother to look back.

~

As you climb into bed, you think to yourself...you probably could have handled that a little better but the jealousy crept in. You shouldn't have even asked but you knew it would be better to know if he did have a girlfriend so you didn't continue to think he liked you.

You toss and turn and finally lay on your back and stare up at the ceiling, replaying the moment from downstairs over and over again. You like him, a lot. There was no doubt about that. And truthfully, you thought he did too. You couldn't hangout with him anymore because you knew that your feelings would develop even more.

You sigh and roll over to turn off your lamp. Hopefully, things would be better in the morning.

The next day, you decide to stay in bed all day. You needed some "me" time. Leah came over and you both watched a marathon of romcom movies and ordered room service. It was one of the most relaxing days you had in a while. It took your mind off of things with Austin.

~

You wake up the next morning to a text message from Brendan.

"Hey babe, let's go grab some brunch. You and me! I'm coming now!"

You smile, spending time with your family was what you should be focusing on, not some stupid guy you just met.

"Sounds amazing. Where should we go?"

Brendan texts back immediately. He suggest a breakfast place a couple blocks away from your hotel so he agrees to meet you in the front of your hotel then you could both walk over together.

You get dressed and head down to the lobby. You scan it quickly, trying to avoid Austin at all costs in case he was there.

You hurry out the door and Brendan is standing there.

"Hey honey, I'm starving. Let's go" he says, linking arms with you.

~

"So have you seen Austin again?" he asks as he takes a bite of his toast.

You look down and sigh.

"Yeah...I have" you say softly.

Brendan frowns. "How come you sound like you're completely disappointed by that?

You shrug, "I don't know. He told me he has a girlfriend yesterday...and I don't know. It upset me...I'm starting to really like him"

Brendan sighs, "Does he really? That sucks. I don't understand though. He seemed really smitten by what you told me"

You nod and take a sip of your coffee.

"I thought so, too. I mean I should have known when a girl kept calling him every time we were together" you say.

Brendan puts down his toast.

"Did he answer the phone?"

You shake your head no and wipe your face with a napkin.

"Wait a minute. You mean to tell me that whenever you two were together and this girl would call, he wouldn't answer her at all?" he tries to clarify.

You nod.

"Baby, he likes you" Brendan exclaims.

You laugh, "What are you talking about?"

Brendan rolls his eyes.

"She's clearly not a priority to him. Any guy who had a girlfriend that was calling them would answer her call. If you ask me, I think he didn't want to answer her because he likes spending time with you. He didn't want to disrupt your time together"

You stare at him blankly. That had to be crazy...right?

"I...I don't know, Brendan. It's far-fetched" you say and take a bite of your sausage.

He sighs, "Trust me. Think about it, if you had a boyfriend and you were soooo in love with him, you'd answer his call regardless of who you were with. It wasn't like you guys were at the opera or something where you can't talk. You were at a hotel bar!"

The more Brendan explained it, the more it made sense. But you still weren't sure what to believe.

"I guess you could be right" you say.

Brendan shakes his head.

"No honey, I am right"

After brunch, you and Brendan decided to go for walk in Central Park, visit a museum and finish up with some shopping. It's bout 7PM when he walks you to your hotel.

"I had such a fun day with you cuz!" you say, pulling him in for a hug.

"Me too babe, so much fun. I'm so glad you're in town! I'm so sad you have to leave in two days" he frowns.

You nod, "I know but then you guys will just have to visit me next...promise?"

He puts his sunglasses on his face and blows you a kiss.

"For you, anything"

He waves goodbye and sets off down the street.

You walk into the lobby and look over at the hotel bar. There was a sign on an easel that read: Jazz Night! Tonight! 8PM-10PM.

"Hmm" you say to yourself. That could be fun!

You catch and elevator up to your floor and enter your room. You decide to shower and change into a cute black summer dress you bought when you were out with Brendan.

An hour later, you were all ready to head downstairs.

The elevator doors open and you could already hear the sound of jazz music filling the room. You walk over to the bar and see a man sitting on a chair playing the saxophone. A woman stood next to him playing the trumpet and another man sat at the piano.

The atmosphere was delightful. A lot more people were in the hotel bar this time, you could barely find a seat.

There were some people dancing slowly on the dance floor, others swaying along in their chairs to the sweet sound of the instruments playing.

"Hi" you say to the bartender. It was the same guy.

"Hello sweetheart, another chardonnay?" he asks.

You nod. "What's your name by the way?"

"Danny" he says and extends his hand. You shake it and smile sweetly.

He pours you a glass and you turn your body so you could watch the performance.

You take a sip and smile. The band was amazing, playing the notes so perfectly. Everyone in the bar was having a wonderful time.

You look past the band and see Austin stumbling through the door into the hotel. He laughs to himself and fixes his posture.

He seemed a little drunk.

You turn back so you're facing the bar. You didn't want him to see you.

You take a huge swig of your wine and ask for another glass.

"Hey there, mind if I sit?"

You look up and Austin is staring down at you. His eyes look glassy, his shirt slightly disheveled and his hair was a little more in his face than usual.

"Sure" you say.

He slides into the seat and sighs.

"How are you?" he asks.

You could smell the alcohol on his breath. He had definitely been drinking.

Danny spots him and immediately places a whiskey sour in front of him.

Austin holds his glass up and gives him a head nod. He takes a sip and places it back on the counter.

"I'm fine, how are you?" you ask.

He shrugs, "I'm good. I was out with a couple of my buddies today...I came back to see the jazz performance"

You nod. There was an awkward silence.

"How come you've been avoiding me?" he blurts out.

You look at him and nerves fill your stomach.

"I'm not avoiding you" you try to say convincingly.

He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, and I'm the queen of England, [Y/N]. Come on, why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you" you repeat.

He sighs, "Okay, fine. Don't tell me"

You take a big gulp of your wine and ask for another glass. You could feel yourself starting to get a buzz. God, this bartender was going to start thinking you're an alcoholic.

Austin looks down at your cleavage and you catch him staring.

"Why don't you take a picture it'll last longer" you say, folding your arms.

He doesn't break eye contact with your breasts.

"Give me a camera and I will" he says and looks into your eyes.

You look down and swirl your chair back towards the performance.

~

The band kept playing and people kept dancing. The alcohol had definitely started to hit you. You felt lighter, airy and carefree. Austin was also pretty drunk.

"Would you like to dance?" he asks after watching the band for a bit.

You look at him and shake your head.

"I'm not much of a dancer...not to jazz" you say.

Austin stands up and holds out his hand.

"Come on, it'll be fun" he says.

He pouts and bats his eyelashes like a little kid begging for candy.

You sigh and take his hand.

He brings you closer to him, your chests touching slightly. He takes your hand into his and places his other on the lower half of your back.

You both sway to the music.

"See, you're a dancer" he whispers.

You laugh and he pulls you out so you can twirl. You come back in and he's laughing.

"I like this dress" he whispers into your ear. His hand falls to the bottom of your dress and he pulls up the fabric a bit. "You look so beautiful"

You close your eyes at the touch of his fingers brushing against your skin.

"I...I.. appreciate that" you stammer.

You both continue to dance and he pulls you closer to him. He tucks some hair behind your ear and he closes his eyes.

You can feel his lips brush against your cheek.

"Fuck, I want to kiss you" he says.

You sigh and turn your head.

“You can’t” you breathe.

Austin runs a finger down your chest, stopping at the top of your breast.

“I’m so attracted to you, [Y/N]. You have no fucking clue” he confesses.

You lick your lips and breathe in deeply. This wasn’t fair. He has a girlfriend and even though you were also drunk, you respected that.

“You can’t like me, we can’t like each other. You have a girlfriend” you say.

He sighs. His hand that was on your lower back was now resting on your ass.

“Can I tell you something?“ he says.

Your anxiety was at an all time high.

“What is it?” you ask.

His face was inches from yours. His eyes look sleepy and he began slurring his words.

“I want you” he whispers.

You sigh.

“Austin-“

“No, [Y/N]. I don’t care. I want you so bad that the other night I thought about you as I jerked off. I thought about me taking your clothes off with you lying completely naked on my bed. I thought about the different ways we’d fuck and how badly I want to taste your pussy”

You look and his eyes were now dark and intense.

“Fuck” was all you could say. You were so turned on by what he was saying to you.

He grabs your face in his hands.

“And there’s so much more than that. It’s….your love for reading, for people, for life, your family. There’s a connection….between us…I feel it so strongly. Neither of us can deny it. I know we’ve only hung out a couple times but I don't want to stop being around you”

He places his left hand around your waist and pulls you closer.

You look down at his plump lips.

“Kiss me” you whisper.

Austin leans in but as soon as he does, his phone rings.

#austin butler smut #austin butler #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x reader

[singswan-springswan]

rexsoka in the werewolf au

since my au is a modern with magic kinda thing the way I incorporate the war will be vague and convoluted. First of all it comes when Ahsoka turns 18 because we don't support child soldiers and stuff. for all intents and purposes, Rex is like 20 at that point. the politics behind it and whatever palps does isn't super important and frankly I don't feel like thinking about that bc it's too complicated and I only have so many braincells. what's important is that Anakin becomes a general (somehow. again, not concerned with the technicalities---though we are concerned about the mental stability of whoever decided that would be a good idea). Rex and the 501st consist of volunteers who are assigned under Anakin's command. Many of them are part of Rex's family somehow haha. he has a huge family.

anyway a few months into the war a lot of them are kidnapped and made into cindaku like I described in this post since palps is a warlock as we recall and wanted to play around with that weird dark magic and kriff. Rex and many of the boys return to the 501st after this horrifying episode, despite the option to be discharged. they are infuriated and even more inspired to continue fighting (having assumed that the perpetrator was working for the separatists). of course, the body horror n all that kinda freaks them out. they don't tell anyone what happened when they were POWs because a) it shouldn't be possible and b) they don't know who to trust. obviously they trust anakin but not to handle the situation gracefully and like fair. so they're trying to figure out how to control their supernatural sides (while palps is also trying to figure out how to control their supernatural sides) and at the same time they have a war to fight so it's pretty standard chaos.

then ahsoka enters the scene. She's 19 when she joins up because she went to an academy that guaranteed her a position as an officer instead of enlisting as soon as the war started so she's appointed as Anakin's commander. He has mixed feelings about it because that's his little sister and he's seen how brutal this war is and doesn't want it to hurt her at all but at the same time he knows she'll be great and he can't wait to see her in action and brag about what a cool person she is. He proudly introduces her to Rex and that's where the fun begins.

As soon as they step into the same room, the air tastes like ozone. their eyes lock, their hackles raise, and every nerve in their bodies screams danger enemy danger so they're totally on edge right off the bat and Anakin is just standing there with his hands on his hips glancing back and forth between them like is this sexual tension or?

it's not sexual tension. although they both have the subtle thought of oh no she's/he's hot floating in the back of their minds. It's just some classic dog/cat stand off that neither of them can place. and it's doubly disorienting because like rex is a golden retriever and Ahsoka is peak cat behavior. the reason Rex and the rest of the men didn't have this reaction to Anakin when they were rescued is because they already had a developed relationship with him before they were turned into shapeshifters and they had a pretty deep bond. plus also he was definitely the one to find and free them (with some help from obi-wan and friends because cody was also kidnapped) so their experiences override the innate instinct to view him as a hostile. They don't have this benefit when it comes to Ahsoka and I think that's hilarious.

instinctively they want to hate her so much. being in the same room as her is enough to set everyone on edge and make them super uncomfortable, which is really inconvenient because she has to give them orders and stuff. but they all come around quickly. they see that she genuinely cares for them, that she supports them whenever they need it, that she's willing to protect them with her life. They eventually overcome the persistent impression of something being not quite normal about her and learn to trust her the way they trust Anakin.

at the same time, they're assimilating each other into their found families, as they do. Domino twins have adopted her. there's no going back. Rex meanwhile rapidly starts to think of Ahsoka as his best friend. they have little in common---he's strict and professional while she's borderline feral and weirdly mystic---but the way they work is so seamless. she's so warm and caring, she's brave and confident, and always willing to listen, and a few times Rex thinks it might be okay to tell her what he really is. but there's a war going on; there's no time for that sort of drama. besides, it's not just his secret to share. it involves all his vode too, and he shouldn't make that call for everyone. but a guy can fantasize a little bit. not that he would. he's too focused and selfless for that 💀

lol this goes both ways tho. ahsoka says this is my bestie rex and introduces him to everyone like that. sorry barris. (barris understands. she has a bird's eye view and all the wherewithal to ship them to the nth degree). Ahsoka likes that rex is so firm and unflinching. he's super cool and kickbutt. he's also crazy smart, a mad strategist, and he's always commanding and collective which is way more than she can say for other guys her age, kriff. also he's hot. like that's definitely something to consider. she's contemplated biting him many times, or at least telling him that she's a wolf blood, but there's a war going on and she wouldn't put that on him when they have more important things to keep track of. she would never bite him without first explaining everything in detail because Anakin told her what happened when half the battalion was captured and Ahsoka could never bring herself to deprive Rex of his freedom in that way.

Ahsoka likes to compliment Rex on his incredible reflexes. whenever she does it around the rest of the men they all kind of just laugh nervously and give each other weird looks LOL 😭 one time Tup said Ahsoka smelled like wet dog because she walked into the tent and it was raining outside and Rex almost SKINNED that poor kitty even though she did omg I'm so funny what else? hmmm, Ahsoka found a jar of pickles in a town they passed through and was eating them as a snack and everyone got spooked by them before realizing they were pickles. She pulls one out of the jar in front of Rex and he jumps on top of the fridge. they stare at each other in disbelief for a solid few minutes. one time Rex got hit in the head with a stick that fell off a tree or something and in a fit of unchecked rage he yeeted it as hard as he could. Having just arrived on scene and clueless to the context, Ahsoka impulsively runs it down and brings it back. she grins and tells him that was fun. Rex's brain short circuits. Fives loans him a braincell. he throws the stick again. She brings it back again.

I think the reveal should happen in the middle of a battle because let's face it that's how they roll haha. the image in my mind right now is the classic Anakin and Ahsoka throwing Rex off the wall while it's exploding except he lands on his feet because he's a cat meanwhile anakin breaks his arm and dislocates both shoulders and Ahsoka is put into a coma. Up until that point Anakin and Ahsoka haven't been so badly injured that they couldn't heal within a day or two and easily hide from Kix and Coric or at least take care of each other, but now they're forced to see the medic for once and Kix doesn't know what to do with their weird biology he's just crying holding the test results like bro are you even human meanwhile Anakin is momentarily high on all the meds kix gave him and he's just babbling like "rex landed on his feet. he landed on his feet and didn't get hurt. rex landed. on his feet. on his feet oh force. we were thirty meters from the ground and there were explosions and he landed like a kriffing ballerina." and rex is just sitting outside sweating buckets like kriff kriff kriff i'm dead we're all dead because what he did shouldn't have been possible and he's just praying to the force that anakin and ahsoka won't remember. they do.

Ahsoka wakes up in a few hours which gives kix a flipping heart attack because she'd sustained a traumatic brain bleed then healed almost completely in less than a day and got up her same chipper self and turns to anakin who's chilling in the next cot over no longer high with both arms in slings looking very stupid (she takes the obligatory time to make fun of him for this) then just kinda raises her eyebrows like "so rex huh" he landed before they did so they had like two seconds to see him stick it before making contact.

They corner him after sneaking out of the medbay. Ahsoka apprehends him because Anakin still has those slings and can't really move 💀 then they both grill him about his impossible landing which may or may not have involved some sparkles (it was hard to tell with all the dust). they bring up every other instance where he performed just beyond the bounds of human capability, citing also his unusual bend towards catlike reactions and demand an explanation. he resists them for a surprisingly long time, still believing it's not his place to tell them, but eventually he breaks and spills everything. he's just so tired of keeping it secret, and they convince him that they'll keep it between themselves. He's somewhat ashamed that he caved and told them, feeling like he betrayed his brothers, but those feelings are pushed to the back of his mind when Ahsoka finally stops gaping at him and laughs out loud. "Well, I'm glad I didn't bite you." She snorts.

His brain is so fried this poor man. Anakin says they're werewolves. it makes too much sense for Rex to even ask for proof.

Cody and Obi-wan are observing this all from a distance nursing mild migraines because they told each other pretty much as soon as Cody and his vod'ike returned and actually have functional communication skills. They're just watching the 501st burn in chaos and are too weary to do anything except let it all happen.

#werewolf au #sw werewolf au #werewolf ahsoka tano #werewolf anakin skywalker #rexsoka #rexsoka au #cindaku #cindaku rex #nonhuman rex #captain rex #star wars au #star wars supernatural au #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #rex and ahsoka

[cinamun]

Is there an aspect of your story, say a plot line or major development, that you couldn't finish or was personally difficult for you? What was it and why? Did you clench your teeth and write through it, or was it too much and you changed it? Pass it on!

Hey friend! Um all of them. Deadass. Okay not really but...

I can't think of something that was too hard to write through. What I will tend to do is *imply* it rather than write it. For example, it is implied that Indya was assaulted by her father when she was a child, which is why Jerri shot and killed him and burned his body while their momma watched. I would never be able to write that in detail so using implication helped because it was a very important detail to who she became and the lifestyle she lived and the demons she fought.

It was very difficult for me to write the physical abuse she dealt with from Juan and Darren. I hated those scenes. It was hard because 1) I wanted Darren to win but he kept fucking up and 2) other reasons. While I hated them, they were necessary so ya girl just clenched her teeth snapped pics and wrote about it.

Darren was literally going to die, but I was so lost in the surgery scene that it didn't happen. It was the doctor's saving him that gave me the idea to keep one around (Dr. Carter has entered the group chat).

Indya tried to unalive herself in Sulani and it worked. That hurt bad man. It was almost too much. But I think what I had built up (her always having problems with cold meds and alcohol) kinda helped a little, like I expected it to happen? She was a walking time bomb honestly.

Because I like to really challenge myself, I try not to skip out on the really hard stuff and will either hustle through it, or leave it up to the reader to decide and make it vague/imply it.

Thanks for the ask love! Oof! This stuff is hard lol

#tw sa #tw death #tw suicide mention #SPOILER WARNING #tw drugs

[trifoliate-undergrowth]

A Very Religious family friend contacted me to say that she's going to be in town visiting my mom if I wanted to see them, and mentioned that she was coming sooner because mom had said she might not live until Christmas. That's interesting because I had just heard (from another family member) that mom was declining and asked her about it directly, and got a vague answer.

I thought of asking her about it, and pointing out that refusing to tell me what's going on when I've directly asked doesn't help anyone, but. I know she's not going to suddenly become more mature or develop better communication skills, she's not going to start talking to me. Also, if I brought it up to her it might turn into her asking me to visit sooner, and if I DON'T do that, I might get off not only not having to see her at Christmas as planned but not ever having to see her alive again. And that's honestly a joyful thought to me.

Like the idea that she might be gone soon is such a relief for a variety of reasons. I've been feeling sort of in limbo with job/potential move stuff, I would leave stuff at my parents' house but I don't want to see her while dropping it off, I don't mind my dad as much (his main crimes are letting my mom do whatever unquestioned and reacting poorly when I came out, compared to my mom, I can deal with that) so I could maybe repair our relationship a bit if he can bring himself to be cool about gender now, I could even leave Thistle with him, I wouldn't leave her with mom in the house bc the last TWO SEPARATE OCCASIONS I left cats with her that I thought we had decided as a family were inside cats she threw them out of the house while I was gone and I'm not taking that risk with Thistle. But the alternative once I move out is leaving her at her old home with my friend for awhile, where she will continue to bully her cat siblings in the way that made my friend want to give her to a single cat household to begin with. (My current roommate wants me to take her as she clearly prefers me and screams when I'm gone, lol. I'm glad because I love her very much but may not have an apartment for her to live in for a year or two while doing seasonal work and didn't want to claim her if my roommate wanted her and would have a better place for her. But I get to keep her! Yay!)

Like idk what to tag this as. Probably vent is close enough but it's a weirdly positive vent. My aunt kept trying to pressure me to spend Thanksgiving with them awhile back and saying that I'd regret it when she's gone and that she regrets not saying things to her mom. I'm sorry about that for her but, secretly, I'm glad her mom is dead too, she contributed to making my mom the way she is and she also was a nasty difficult person to deal with and it's a relief to no longer have her to deal with. I'll probably feel the same about my mom. I was done with the endless sisyphean attempts to salvage our relationship years ago. Break is almost over so calling this post here

#personal #vent ? #queuing the ding dong the witch is dead gif

[rennsdeaddoves]

Introducing something new. A guide.

here we go again kiddos! buckle up, it's gonna be a long one!

so i had a poll out a few days ago (that I have since deleted) and it had several options of fanfiction's i had wanted to introduce to my blog, and the two with the most votes would have been introduced. i was planning on keeping the poll up for three days but two day's in and i only had 13 votes. so i sent out a new one asking if you wanted descriptions to the fics and ya'll said yes. so here we go.

this guide will always be up and linked in my pinned post, so you never had to fear about losing it. if and when i make more fics I'll update the list, and I will always refer to this list/guide when i wanna introduce a new fic to the blog.

before we begin though i have a rating system for my fics, i like to write dark so i have a scale;

it's not bad but- = it’s light, not much gore maybe some trauma for spice. But otherwise technically could be 13+ (not including smut) at best

Trauma o’clock = it gets worse. 16+ (not including smut) more trauma and gore for the characters and in the story

wounded dove = it’s pretty bad. But not to the point of dead dove. But still pretty bad.

Our doves are rotting = dead dove do not eat all the way, it’s a gore fest in here. Morals we don’t know her.

if you see ✅ beside a fic or series title, i have added it to my blog already.

I'll colour code the list, so the colours that the ratings are will correspond with the rating of the fic, ight? ight. and if a title is still white then the rating is undecided.

i'll be tackling the solo fic's first (the ones that are not part of a series) and then I will get to the series.

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The Will of Gods and Monsters - Hellsing Ultimate ✅

summary - what is the human will? The age-old argument is of whether humans have free will at all, but if you want to go deeper, what about the Gods we serve? And what of the monsters they create?

Father Alexander Anderson makes choices that hurt him, he fixes those choices and eradicates all love for anyone except God. Though it is debatable who his god is.

Aireth made a choice in her young life to explore the world and subsequently got tangled up with a Lord by the name of Vlade Tempest, or Vlad the Impaler, she made an oath, by choice, and it continues to bite her in the ass even after she thinks she’s rid herself of it.

Finally, Abbadon. She seems to have no free will of her own, constantly controlled by the ones who took her as a child she never gets to make her own choices. Until she did, and the glass was broken.

It can be argued that humans have free will, Integra willingly killed her Uncle to save Hellsing, Walter willingly serves as her butler.

But what of the monsters under her control? Alucard, Aireth, Saris? What of the gods? Anderson, Seraph? Is their will their own?

the relationships in this fic are; Father Alexander Anderson x oc and the Captian x oc. this is a dead dove do not eat fic, there is human experimentation, nazi's (its Hellsing), lots of non-con/dub-con elements, attempted rape, and cannon-typical violence. this story is definitely not for the faint of heart but the characters I've made for it are super close to my heart and some of the best OC's I've made.

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Wait No Longer - Cult of the Lamb

gonna be honest this one doesn't have a description to it (it's not as developed as my other one lmao) but I do have vague ideas for it that a lot of my friends think are pretty interesting. it is a Narinder (the one who waits) x oc. and mainly takes place before lambert. idk the rating yet (haven't decided how dark i wanna go with it but it does have cult stuff in it) i'd likely put in in wounded dove

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And No One Saw It Coming - Puss in Boots the Last Wish

summary - Kitty and Perrito get to Puss while he is still stuck in the cave of souls, while death still hunts him down like a cat would a mouse, or a wolf would a cat. 

In the ensuing scuffle, the three find out that even Death can have a wish, and Goldie and Jack are dealt with, they actively seek Death out and ask if they can somehow help grant his wish. If they can help find who he longs to see again. 

Of course, Lobo scoffs at them. He’s a very busy wolf and doesn’t have the time for this, but something in the back of his mind won't stop gnawing at him and eventually he caves, Accepting the tabi’s offer for help. 

Lobo (death) x oc, there is manipulation, illness, and maybe more, this is actually one of the newer fic's i have created for the movie .

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Determination of the forsaken - Kung Fu Panda

again no summary (for some reason-) even though this fic is pretty old, but what I can tell you all is that a dragon falls from the heavens, Oogway finds her as her form changes to fit in the mortal world. it is a Tai Lung x oc, and the oc is trying to discover who she was before Oogway and Tai.

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This Never Ending Nightmare We Must Call Life - Little Nightmares  ✅

summary - the Maw was where they lived and where they were supposed to die. But fate had another idea and kept one alive. Those on the Maw named her Key as they thought she was the key to saving them all from this twisted world. However, a strange signal pulses in her head and she is drawn to the land, heading for a place with towering buildings and pale skies;

Key makes a journey that should have never been made in the first place.

guys.... there is so much manipulation and gaslighting in this fic... i was really in my gaslight era. BUT ANYWAY its a Thin Man x oc fic, super dark, i think there was some elements of dub-con, also major character deaths and suicidal ideation. all i know was that it was dark. but like Thin Man

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Let me give the world to you  ✅

Xeno sees how Goku interacts with Goten the omni-king decides that his gods need that joy in their lives as well. So under the order of their father, the grand priest and the omni-king the angel attendants go and find suitable children for their gods.

when Bulma catches wind of the situation is she quick to pull several older kids who had been absolutely screwed over by the foster system for Whis to look at. One girl who has bruises all over her face and looks like a walking corpse catches his eyes.

in which renn exposes the foster system through dbz lmao. there will be drug use, pedophilia, non-con, dud-con, crimes, and a lot of trauma. but our girl will heal, after all, its amazing what a child can grow into if given the proper care isn't it

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With Withered Wings and Broken Bones

Nightmare Before Christmas fic where Jack adopts a kid with major ptsd involving divorce and Sally is cheating on him. everything is a mess, Jack eventually becomes a really good dad and then Ooggie comes back for his revenge

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You Thirst for Blood from the Roses in Hand

totk Ganondorf x oc who was an un-named slave girl before shit went sideways, she got flung into the past with Zelda and somehow met the gerudo king before being taken as his servant and then proving herself a grater asset then she got flung back into the present and after getting a taste of freedom and power the murdering started

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now we get into the fanfiction series, so these all contain more than one fic, and if the fics have descriptions I'll put em in.

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Set in Sand but not in Stone - Encanto

*gasp* a green title!!! who new i had the balls to write something like this!!! (lol)

fic one; How to Survive While Seeing the Future - a guide by Bruno Madrigal

summary - Growing up in the Encanto is all he has ever known, there was no outside world, just the small, but still large, home that they were slowly building. There were many kids their age or just a little younger in the community now that it was growing so well, but none stood out more to Bruno Madrigal than Mariposa Lucia Neva. And of course, his two sisters always noticed.

fic two; This Little Miracle of Mine

this fic doesn't have a summary but it involves the actual movie and Bruno and Mariposa have a child.

obv Bruno Madrigal x oc, and guy's looking back at the discord chats for this thing it is cute and mmmmmm. its just a lil trauma sprinkled here and there but the hurt comfort is hurt comforting.

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Creature Series - Moon Knight  ✅

fic one - Haunted by a Darker Side

summary - The Gods were never reliable in any sense for Nem. her mother prayed and believed but she never did, she thought it was a waste of time and took matters into her own hands. Unfortunately taking things into your own hands will often get you into much more trouble than it's truly worth. 

It was only when Nem really feared for her life that she prayed for the first time, it was only after running from guards with the shiver of the Pharaoh’s last words running through her mind, the moon clear above her as she lay dying in the sand that she truly prayed.  

“Oh Lord Khonshu, god of the moon, Protector of the travellers of the night. Please protect my mother and brothers in my absence, watch over them when I could not.  I beg of you if you are real please, please do this, I'm sorry I never believed or worshipped. I offer the rest of myself to you if you can do this one thing for me-”

What Nem was not expecting was a response to her prayer; 

“Why don’t you protect them yourself? It would be a shame to die on a nice night like this. Allow me to keep you alive Nem of Iken”

She should have known there would be strings attached to that offer… 

fic two - Transcends to Walking in the Light

summary - Nem would not let Khonshu be turned to stone, so with Anubis’ help, she announced that she was with child, a new god or goddess of the Ennead. Khonshu must live to raise the child, as Nem would not be able to handle it on her own unless they wanted a rouge god on their hands. 

Begrudgingly they agree, freeing her God, but this freedom comes at a price. 

“You must marry Khonshu, we cannot have a god be born naturally out of wedlock.” 

At least it didn’t need to be conceived within wedlock- but these terms are easily agreed to by both parties. Now the next chapter of Nem’s patronage to Khonshu begins, 

With her as his Queen. 

fic three- And Slowly I'm Recovering

summary - Most agree that on any given night the moon is beautiful, it always has been and always will be. So why was it that Casper could never face it? Did it have something to do with a past she didn’t want to relive and a personal mission that had yet to be completed? Yes, yes it did. But she is too stubborn to admit that aloud. 

So when she gets mixed up with a nice fellow named Steven Grant and his life, her past with the moon god Khonshu comes to a head. And what she's been running from all this time is right in front of her, she just needs to face it with the honour she once had. 

fic four - The Beauty of Discovering

no summary but domestic fluff and chaos ensues.

GUYS I HAD THE BIGGEST BRAIN WHEN COMMING UP WITH THESE NAMES ON GOD I DID!!! if you haven't listened to the song Creature by Half Alive then what are you doing with your life?? anyway these titles come from the end of that song (it is one of my faves) and the lyrics describe what it happening sooooo well!!! i was so fucking proud of myself

anyway this is a Khonshu x oc, there is some pretty shitty stuff that happens in each of the fics that warrant the rating i have given it, but its not to the point that it's dead dove.

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have you heard the golden records? series - Transformers Bayverse

there are five fic's for the five movies, and the rating is split because one of the fic's has human experimentation and two of them have child abuse (maybe three) i only have the summary for the first fic, and while each fic covers a movie in the franchise it also covers a lot more, like the before's and afters of the movies, the fallouts we never get to see.

fic one - MESSENGER

summary - Up to this point life has not been kind to Ezra Rhett, but she manages in her own way and actually maybe made some good friends in the form of the Witwicky family. When Sam gets his first car and it apparently steels itself she’s the first person he’s calling, the next day when Giant metal beings show themselves to them all in a back alley and ask Sam to save the world she’s already had enough. 

But that pleading look in his eyes has her reluctantly agreeing to go, and very quickly she realizes it would be a cold day in hell if she ever let these kids go through this alone. 

Optimus Prime has a similar thought process when he realized how young the humans helping his team were. He is glad that Ezra decided to stay and help her young friends not for herself but for their safety. The Autobot leader also keeps his eyes on them, he doesn’t need any of the humans helping them get hurt along the way. 

Though sometimes he finds himself being pulled by the Look in her eyes. 

Fic two; Voyager Fic three; Apollo 11 Fic four; Pathfinder Fic five; Interstellar

Optimus prime x oc because yes. somehow i made the oc a half-human, half cybertronian in a non-cringe way. like me and my significant other literally discussed the biochemistry of how this could all work. there are paragraphs of messages of my friends and i talking about this. so it's safe to say, smut will happen in a natural way (without that holo form bs)

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Rust can be Fatal - Undertale / Transformers Prime crossover

fic one - It Had to be You

summary - Cybertron was a stagnant planet, it had been since the collapse of the space bridges, no, likely since the fall of the thirteen. But it was all about to change, A Gladiator named Megatrounus would make sure of it. 

This, however, is not his story, this is the tale of another, one who called herself Seadrift and later Moray. She was the bot to bring Megatron back to his true ideals and the one to plunge him into a rage so deep it consumed all of Cybertron. 

She was also the one to make an impact on Monster kind, after all, it was the Monster’s who accepted her and the humans who shunned her. When war broke out all over again in her new home, Seadrift was going to be sure it didn’t end with her getting sent away from the ones she loved, not again. So she took up arms against the humans and fought for monster kind, just like she had for Megatron so long ago. 

fic two - The Reason I'm Alive

this one doesn't have a description but it's from Megatron and Seadrift's kid pov and it gets brutal (i think i have a scene where they saw off their own leg with fishing line)

Megatron x oc and eventually I make Megatron a dad (listen ya'll will eventually see that i have a thing for taking villans and making them single dads to daughter and have them absolutely dote on them)

does that have something to do with my daddy issues. maybe??

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THERE!!! the list is complete (for now) i will add as i do more, (i have tones more fics but these are the ones i feel the most comfortable with sharing/ the ones that are the most thought out) more will def be added later on, so check back whenever ya feel like it and don't be afraid to comment on any of them, i will appreciate all comments.

#fanfic #hellsing fanfiction #hellsing ultimate #transformers bayverse #transformers prime #encanto #moon knight #little nightmares #puss in boots the last wish #kung fu panda #cult of the lamb #dragon ball super #nightmare before christmas #tears #tears of the kingdom

[idiacide]

could you elaborate on further on floyd's part? I'm pretty sure everyone in twst has issues but I always thought that Floyd was more on the stable side in comparison to the rest, so it made me curious about what his possible issues are (i have a vague idea for jade's something something about control and the need to be in it.) But like only if your comfortable! Btw can I be curious anon? Thanks!

See now you’ve gone and done it, you’ve enabled me to talk at length about my boy. You probably were NOT asking for a 5k word analysis of Floyd (including a line reading of his vignettes). But apparently that’s what my brain decides to churn out. So without further ado

Shark Dissection: A Floyd Leech Analysis Essay

Some brief disclaimers: I actually do agree with you that overall Floyd is one of the more stable boys here. I don’t think he’s walking around with some great well of untreated sadness and neglect. Like many people, he’s simply got some issues rattling around his brain that have gone kind of unaddressed and unprioritized, and the longer they go without comment the more likely they are to cause problems that seem inexplicable. Additionally, there’s admittedly some level of self-projection occurring here. In terms of behavior, I’m not much like Floyd. But the way his brain works makes sense to me, feels familiar. In a way, he takes a lot of the impulses and feelings I have and acts on them in a way I wouldn’t have the nerve to irl. This also means that I see a lot of myself in the way that he handles his own internal state.

I have ADHD. Floyd, while not canonically diagnosed, has a lot of behavioral overlap with typical ADHD diagnostic criteria. Part of that package is emotional dysregulation. The ADHD brain isn’t particularly good at regulating anything, and that includes feelings. My entire life I’ve had this thing where if you ever asked me how I was feeling, I honestly couldn’t tell you. I might even get irritated with you for asking. How am I supposed to know what I’m feeling, or why? I just know I’m going through it, and its not gonna stop until I can either distract myself or someone comes along to lift it. I have to figure out what I’m experiencing after the fact, rather than just basically be able to understand the cause and effect of my own brain chemistry. Floyd’s frequent mood swings and “irrationality” track a lot with stuff that I’ve been going through my whole life, and unlike me I don’t think Floyd has the language or the desire to fully understand why he is the way that he is. This combines with some elements I see in his past to create some issues with developing consistent relationship attachments that he hasn’t acquired by virtue of biology or proximity.

All this to say: I don’t consider my reading of Floyd the end all be all. I’m too bound up in it to say that I’m being objective. But I do think there’s a lot of textual evidence for the things that I do see in him, so take that for what you will. So let’s get into it.

It all starts from Jade and Floyd’s way of relating to other people. More specifically: they kinda don’t? The twins have a habit of seeing other people as more tools for their own entertainment than actual people deserving of notice. I’d argue a lot of this stems from their childhood, based on some things Jade says in his birthday card:

Could you tell us a memory you have about your birthday?

A memory....Oh, yes. I’ll share a story from my childhood.

It wasn’t just our relatives that would come over for our birthday every year-but associates from our father’s work as well.

And they gave us a mountain of presents.

What kind of things did you get?

All sorts of things: sweets, seaweed eye masks, and strange toys one could only acquire on land.

However, among those things were luxury substances clearly no child would need.

It seems those presents were from desperate people trying to gain our father’s favor...er, rather his trust.

Our father always made sure anyone who sent us those deeply meaningful gifts also left their signatures...

On a document which read, “This gift was given to you out of good faith, and we will not request anything in return for it.”

Even our father had a tendency to worry at times, just like our mother.

Well, they do say that married couples take after each other...It’s good that they get along well.

...Just what kind of household do you two come from?...

Heheh, this is simply a family-run line of work. We do all sorts of meaningless business with all kinds of people...Its very normal.

I’d argue we see two things at play here. One, a family tendency to toy with people, particularly desperate people. Jade is recounting this all with a clear sense of amusement, like it’s an old in-joke. More than that, his father seems to be toying with his “associates” through his sons birthday, making them sign documents assuring that its an honest gift when they all know the actual purpose. Two: Jade and Floyd serving as spectators to larger actions. Jade doesn’t even remember their birthday as being strictly “about” them. Rather it was an event through which they got to participate in the family business and get a little more insight into their father’s dealings. Again, his amusement here is important. For many kids I think there’d be a sense of hurt feelings, or concern, or even pride. But for Jade (and one has to assume, Floyd) this is simply another entertaining circumstance of his life.

I’d argue this stemmed from the home outward, resulting in the twins not being particularly encouraged to see other people as. Well. People. Rather, they approach them like they’re game pieces. This isn’t necessarily malicious. In Azul’s case, what drew them in to Azul was the contradiction between his crybaby nature and his ambitious talent for magic and exploiting others. They thought he would be fun to watch, and so they did, eventually developing a friendship with each other that seems to feature at least some level of trust. However, it definitely showcases this tendency to be driven by curiosity before empathy.

This continues at NRC. Jade and Floyd definitely have amicable relationships, and yet there aren’t truly a lot of people that they trust outside of each other. Floyd ESPECIALLY demonstrates this. He uses playful nicknames, both as a way of telling people apart and a way of subtly putting them down. He picks his favorite targets for bullying and teasing based on who will give him the biggest reaction, and lets his whims dictate how much he wants to engage with any given activity. He won’t put himself out of the way for pretty much anyone but Jade or Azul. There’s no one else in his life for whom friendship trumps his own convenience and entertainment, at least not consistently.

There’s a side effect to all of this though: when you see people as playthings, it’s hard to feel like you can actually trust them with your own emotions. This seems to bother Jade less. Jade doesn’t seem to deal with particularly strong emotions, even playing into the fact that he doesn’t have any around his brother. And as Bean Day demonstrates, he is perfectly capable of having friendly and amicable relationships with other people when he feels so inclined. Jade may sometimes put people off, but you get the sense that if he ever wanted to reach out he would be able to find someone to listen.

Floyd is different. Floyd has emotions which are frequently large and uncontrollable. More than that, he really doesn’t seem to have anywhere to take those emotions when they strike. His entire life, whether by nature or nurture, he’s taught himself that the only people he really needs to care about are his brother (and Azul), who as previously stated doesn’t really seem to experience emotions in the same way as Floyd and thus is often just as at a loss about how to cope with them as anyone else. Thus, the only avenue he seems to trust to make him feel better is to mess with people...or to lash out at them.

So let’s talk about where those emotions stem from. Floyd’s emotions get read as unpredictable for a pretty good reason. They can shift on a dime with almost no warning, and suddenly everyone around him has to deal with the consequences. I don’t really blame any of them for wondering what the hell his deal is. However, I think when talking about Floyd’s emotions, it’s useful to separate the cause of the emotion from the scope of the emotion.

The scope of the emotion, as I’ve already stated, can be attributed to ADHD/ADHD-like issues with emotional dysregulation. As I’ve stated, having ADHD means that your brain doesn’t effectively filter your emotions to give you an idea of what a rational response looks like. As bewildering as it can sound, there are plenty of days where I just can’t connect the dots that what’s irritating me is a project I’m working on. I just know that I’m furious and everyone around me seems to be contributing to it. This doesn’t mean I get an excuse to treat people however I want, obviously, but it does mean that when I’m in the middle of it it can be difficult for me to realize that I’m getting angry at something that isn’t the root cause of my problem. It ALL feels like a cause. Additionally, this kind of behavior is often even harder to contain for people who are undiagnosed, because they don’t know enough about themselves to recognize that they’re being irrational. They may often assume that everyone would act this way in their situation, even if that’s not true. So, my argument is functionally that Floyd is experiencing perfectly rational emotions. He’s just experiencing them to a degree that is unusually destructive, and doesn’t know (or, admittedly, care) to stop himself from acting on them.

As far as the cause goes, while obviously there’s not one cause for every switch, it’s often pretty useful to piece out when you take the time to scrutinize his internal state. I’m gonna go through his vignettes now to point out where the switch happens, as well as why I think it happens.

School Uniform (R):

Floyd, while bored at the library, spots Riddle hunting for a book and decides to antagonize him, holding it over his head and making him chase him around the library for it. However, near there end, we hit this beat.

Floyd: C'mon! Catch me, catch me! I'll give you the book if you do!

Riddle: AUGH! STOP RUNNING AROUND! I AM DONE WITH YOU! Jade has never once pulled these silly pranks, and he's had every opportunity as a classmate! How twins could be such complete opposites, I'll never understand!

Floyd:...

Riddle:Why must you always, ALWAYS...?! Tell me, Floyd! What have I done to deserve this mistreatment?!

Floyd: Ugh. I'm bored.

Riddle: WHAT?!

Floyd: I'm out. Here⁠—take the book.

Riddle:What...just happened? I can't tell if I upset him, or if that was yet another one of his mood swings. *sigh* I've had enough of that man's caprices for a lifetime.

Riddle’s frustration here is 100% understandable here, and I don’t blame him for snapping like he does. Floyd is being a brat, and he’s doing it to bother him. However, I’ve spoken before about how I don’t really think Floyd enjoys being compared to his brother, and this vignette is a huge part of the reason why. Riddle’s not really saying anything different from what he was before. He’s shouting at him, getting upset, theoretically giving Floyd exactly what he wants. But he’s thrown a wrench in the works, asking Floyd implicitly why he can’t be more like his brother, and suddenly all the fun’s gone out of it for him.

It’s important how he frames it here too. He doesn’t say he’s upset. He says he’s bored, and tosses back the book. Again, I don’t want to poor meow meow Floyd too much here. But bothering Riddle is the endgame. There’s no reason for this to suddenly be boring for him...unless boredom is not actually the reason for him leaving, just what he decides to attribute the feeling to. He’s offended, maybe even legitimately hurt that a person who he considers (however unwillingly) a friend has just implied wanting him to be something other than what he is. He’s been rejected, and rather than confront that I think what he’s doing here is rejecting him right back. At least for now.

PE Uniform (R):

Floyd: Huh? What's up, Crabby? You're staring at me. Wanna join in?

Ace: I had no idea you were such a baller. You had three people after you, but you slipped around 'em like... I dunno, an eel or something! I'm seriously floored, dude.

Floyd: Aw, it's nothing special. If you thought that was cool, then check THIS out.

Ace: Ooh, ooh! What're you gonna do?

Floyd: Patience, Crabby. Stand there and watch. Lead up with a dribble and... Slaaam dunk! Yeah BOIII!

Ace: Whoaaa, that was crazy! You're tall AND you can jump that high? I call shenanigans! Ha ha.

Jamil: I'm with Ace on this one. You just jumped high enough to literally look down through the hoop. How did you even manage that?

Ace: You could totally go pro. Maaan, I wanna learn to dunk like that!

Floyd: I got a thing for swimming, obviously, but I like running and jumping too.

Ace: On that note... Would you be on my team for today's practice game?

Floyd: You wanna tag-team those chumps, eh? Sure. Why not?

----

Floyd: I'm bored.

Ace: What?

Jamil: Come on, the match has started.

Ace: Hold up, Floyd. What happened to those crazy skills you were just showing off?

Floyd: Uuugh, this is such a draaag. I quit.

Ace: What the heck, man?!

Floyd: I'm not in a basketball mood.

Ace: But you were totally in the zone like three seconds ago!

Floyd: Yeah. I had fun, and now I'm done.

Ace: Dude, quit being so lazy and make with the dunking already!

Floyd:You are REALLY starting to get on my nerves. How about I squeeze you until you can't whine anymore?

So we have here, pretty standard Floyd shenanigans. He’s having fun, until he isn’t, and then he makes that everyone else’s problem. Again, Ace isn’t in the wrong here for reacting as he does. From his perspective Floyd just flaked out on him and threatened him for asking that he do the thing he said he’d do. Floyd’s being a dick, regardless of the emotions he has around it. What I find most interesting about this interaction though, is specifically how Floyd responds to Ace’s praise. He’s surprisingly quick to undercut his own achievement, waving it off as nothing special even as he eagerly shows off for a little more of it. He reacts enthusiastically to Ace hyping him up, though he treats his own talents like something normal (“I like running and jumping”). Even agrees to be on his team, and I’ve mentioned how rare it is for Floyd to commit to something for someone else. I see this as an example of the “anxious” half of the mixed attachment. Floyd wants to be validated without having to beg for it, enough to jump into things quickly when he’s found an unexpected source of it.

And then a sea change occurs. Sudden mood drops or abrupt lack of interest isn’t exactly unusual with ADHD (though, it happens to Floyd a little quicker than most). Despite having fun with Ace he’s clearly ready to drop the task and move on to something more fun. When Ace (a little understandably) reacts with frustration, that’s when Floyd gets aggressive with him. The avoidant half kicks in. “Oh, so I’m just a dunking machine to you? Well fuck you too then.” He places distance between them to avoid having to really untangle his own feelings on why he’s suddenly demotivated, and also seemingly to hurt Ace for turning on him.

Labwear (SR)

Woof, this one is probably the clearest demonstration of Floyd’s emotional vacillation. Sorry for the back to back long quotes I’m gonna be doing here but. It’s relevant.

Crewel: Floyd Leech, would you care to explain yourself?

Floyd:......

Crewel: You're turning in my quiz completely blank. I can only conclude that you crave a taste of my signature discipline.

Floyd:......

Crewel: How long are you going to stay silent? Even puppies bark back when spoken to.

Floyd:...Aroo. There. Are we done yet, or did you have more barbs to sling my way? All this nagging is really harshin' my vibe.

Crewel:......You're bold, Younger Leech. I'll give you that much.

Floyd: I ain't "younger." I ain't "older," either, but c'mon.

Crewel: I suggest you exercise more discretion in deciding who you bare your fangs at.....you BAD DOG!

So here again, we see those consistent themes: Floyd’s frustration at being asked to explain himself when his motivation suddenly drops, and a connection drawn to Jade that seems to needle at him. Crewel seems to be assuming their birth order based on maturity here, which Floyd objects to very quickly. Almost like it bothers him that Jade was brought up at all.

Jade: Oh, hello, Floyd. Heading back to the dorm? ...What's wrong? You're glowering.

Floyd: Professor Beakfish chewed my head off and assigned me a fifty-page apology essay as punishment.

Jade:"Beakfish"? Like the black-and-white striped beakfish? Oh, you must be talking about Professor Crewel. What did you do to incur his wrath this time?

Floyd: Literally nothin'. I didn't feel like takin' a quiz, so I left it blank. I'm not the only guy with low grades in that class, so how come I'm the only one he singles out?

Jade: Didn't you score a perfect 100 on your last test? Of course he'd think you were slacking on purpose if you went from a 100 to a 0.

Floyd: Maaaan... This is lame.

I think it’s notable that Jade says “he’d think you were slacking on purpose”. Implying to me that he seems to understand that on some level, it’s not necessarily in Floyd’s control when he chooses to put in effort or not (though he acknowledges Crewel is coming to a pretty logical conclusion). Floyd leaves pretty shortly after this to be alone, too irritated to even confide in his twin, after which he has this exchange.

Savanaclaw Student: Hey, who thinks they can just bump into me without apologizin' or— Erk! F-F-Floyd!

Floyd:......

Savanaclaw Student A: S-sorry! We didn't know it was you...

Floyd: ......

Savanaclaw Student B: Look, uh, we don't want any trouble, so...

Floyd: Huh? Nah, don't feel like starting any.

Savanaclaw Student A: Wait, really?

Floyd: I said it's cool, okay? So how about you scram already before you make me wanna ruin YOUR day, too?

Again, we have another repeated pattern here. Floyd’s more likely to get aggravated when someone starts interrogating his motives. Its scope is unreasonable but its cause, at its bare essentials, is understandable. When you’re in a bad mood you don’t want someone to pester you with questions.

What ultimately turns Floyd’s mood around in this vignette isn’t some deep meaningful affirmation, and pretty essentially the most likely person to give it to him in this situation, Jade, doesn’t try. He’s in avoidant mode. He’s going to resist all forms of praise or encouragement and assume ill-intentions. What snaps him out of it, finally, is Ace and Deuce hitting him with color changing magic and him finding it so funny that it instantly snaps him out of his funk. His motivation is kickstarted again, and with it I’d argue a desire for affirmation:

Floyd:Aha ha! I didn't know you could be so incompetent at basic baby magic! You guys are hopeless! Look at this complete mess of colors I've got going from head to toe. Pinks, blues, yellows... What color were you even going for? It's kinda funny bein' this colorful!

Deuce: He's laughing? Does that mean...he's in better spirits now?

Ace: W-we're saved!

Floyd: Now I wanna give it a whirl! Heck, I'll give you guys some color-changing pointers while I'm at it.

Deuce: Who is he, and what has he done with Floyd...?

It seems like a whim, and to some extent it is. I doubt Floyd is really making many cognizant connections between this and his argument with Crewel earlier. But I think its important to understand: what put him in a bad mood was rejection, being chewed out and having it assumed that he’s being intentionally dense and not trying hard enough. What snaps him out of it is giddily spectating someone being actually incompetent, and realizing its something that he can not only try for himself, but help them do as well. That takes him right back up to his peak, and as a direct result, he stops avoiding people.

Ceremonial Robes: (also I couldn’t find an upload of the official translation for this vignette so. Here’s the link to the fan translation I ended up using: https://twistedtranslations.tumblr.com/post/614193938568495104/floyd-leech-dont-wanna-12)

So what does a positive interaction with Floyd look like? As I’ve said again and again: I really don’t wanna fault anyone I’ve previously shown for how they reacted to him. At the end of the day how Floyd feels is no one’s responsibility but his own, and the ways in which he lashes out are specifically designed to provoke and upset people. He can hardly complain when people get, well, provoked and upset. But I think the ceremonial robes vignette showcase an excellent example of someone finding a way to engage with him that actually produces positive and even productive results.

Kalim: If you like music that much, you should enter the light music club! We can play together.

Floyd: I’m fine.

Kalim: But you like musical performances, right? It’d be a waste to quit.

Floyd: I don’t like being told by a human what to do… And right now, moving my body is the most fun. Lately I’ve been interested in dancing! Now that I have two tail fins, it’s been so entertaining. Sometimes I can’t even tell the difference between left and right.

Kalim: Tail fins? Left and right… ah, do you mean your legs?

Floyd: Yes, legs! Moving your legs is fun, so dancing is fun as well. I love fun things. I don’t want to do boring things. Applies to everything.

Kalim: I also love fun things! They’re the best! That’s why even if I love music, I also love dancing… You know, our hobbies are kind of the same, huh?

Floyd: Huh…you think so?

Kalim: Yeah, do you want to try performing together next time?

Floyd: Aha. With me? Okay, but I think you’ll be surprised at how good I am.

Kalim: That’s fine, I’ve heard a lot about you. You should definitely show me how you dance.

Floyd: If I feel like it.

----

Kalim: Ah, here you are! Floyd, do you have a moment!?

Floyd: Huh, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to hold a party for the great observers?

Kalim: That’s where I have a problem. The guy who plays the main drum has gotten a cold and can’t participate today. We’ve tried to rehearse without the drum but the song doesn’t feel authentic without the percussion… And that’s when I remembered you.

Floyd: Me?

Kalim: You said you had experience with the drum. Don’t you want to show off your technique to everyone? I’m sure performing together will be fun. Come on Floyd, let’s liven up the party together!

Floyd: Huh? Don’t wanna.

Kalim: …Huh. What do you mean you don’t wanna?

Jade: Pf. Floyd, it wouldn’t hurt you to be more polite in your refusals.

Floyd: I don’t wanna do things I don’t like.

Kalim: But didn’t you tell me it was fine when I offered you earlier to perform together?

Floyd: I told you I didn’t like being ordered around by humans, didn’t I? And you know, I don’t feel like matching with y’all.

Kalim: You don’t have to force yourself to match the other guys. If you do things like you do, that’s fine as well.

Floyd: … For real?

Kalim: Of course! As I said before, having fun at a party is essential! The guests and the entertainers should both have fun.

Floyd: Okay, then I’ll do it.

Kalim: Really?!

Floyd: Yeah. As long as I can do whatever I want.

Kalim: You really saved me, thank you, Floyd!

Floyd is trying to fall into his usual habits, being intentionally difficult, squirming out of things he otherwise promised to do, and insisting on having his own way. In this state of mind even Jade struggles to get him to do anything. But Kalim somehow intuitively hits on the way home. He reaffirms Floyd’s desire to have fun, and encourages him to do his own thing without worrying about whether its correct or not. Floyd even seems a little thrown off by it, confused that Kalim doesn’t have more of a problem with him and surprised by the extent to which he seems to identify with him. As a result, he agrees, as long as it can be on his own terms, and the performance goes shockingly well...

....For a while!

Floyd: … Eergh! Just hitting stuff is boring.

Kalim: U-uh, Floyd, why did you suddenly throw your sticks away!

Floyd: You were the one who told me I could do what I wanted. I feel more like dancing than playing drums.

Kalim: It’s true that I said that, but… Why did you abandon your instrument?!

Floyd: You’re supposed to have fun at a party, right? Everyone should stand up and do whatever they want~

Kalim: … Haha, ahaha! Man, this became super lively and fun. Floyd’s really dancing without worries. Okay. A party shouldn’t be like this. Come on everyone, sing and dance! Don’t hold back on enjoying this bustling party.

Floyd: Oh, you guys finally stood up. How about I’ll strangle you if you don’t get excited?

Jamil: What a terrible fuss. Certainly, a party should be enjoyed… But there’s a limit to everything.

Azul: Floyd’s drumming was popular in his home town. It had a rhythm that made you move your body just by listening to it. Well, the guy himself broke out in dancing all the time… It was always troublesome.

Jamil: If this isn’t a chaotic situation. Aah, how will I explain this to the principal…

Azul: Do not worry, I shall help you. That’s why I came.

Jamil: Why do I have the feeling it won’t be free of charge. My head hurts… I also feel like dancing and forgetting everything.

Kalim: Isn’t this fun, Floyd!

Floyd: Yeah. Dancing is enjoyable after all. … Let’s get fired up even more!

Floyd’s being difficult again, temporarily flummoxing Kalim. What’s crucial here though, is that Kalim doesn’t become upset with him. He does the best thing one can do with Floyd, and rolls right with the punches. For as chaotic as it is, it genuinely seems to improve spirits at the party. Even Jamil, stressed and overworked, seems to get into the spirit as he accepts there’s probably no stopping this train. As a result, Floyd’s investment doesn’t waver. He continues to have a good time. Even the threats, though they seemingly aren’t avoidable, seem more playful than actually angry. It’s a rare interaction with Floyd where everyone walks away a little bit the better for it.

Concluding notes:

So to restate my points: No, I don’t believe Floyd Leech is secretly a sad little boy so tormented by the cruel world. Floyd gets pretty much the reaction one would expect from his behavior. He doesn’t put in the effort to explain himself, or to control himself, and as a result it’s not really fair to expect other people to do the work of untangling his feelings for him. Additionally, I think for the most part, he’s genuinely a pretty happy guy. He has his low points, like anyone, but by and large I think we seem him being pretty content with his life and relationships as they are. Some people don’t need to resolve every issue they have to achieve some sort of equilibrium. I’d argue that Floyd is very much one of those people.

However, in service of a broader analysis: I think often times, we act the way that we’re treated as much as we’re treated the way that we act. Even by the people who know him best, Floyd is often treated as inexplicable, irrational and even frustrating to deal with. For as true as those statements often are, I think it has influenced his own relationship to his internal state. He lacks the kind of cognitive structure necessary to unpack why he feels a certain way, or what he needs to do about it. Oftentimes, I think he’s even a little out of touch with what he’s feeling. All negative emotions get looped under the same category: bored. And being bored is the worst thing there is for someone like Floyd. It’s an itchy, powerless feeling that makes you feel suddenly adrift. What was just working for you, making you happy and excited to be where you were, has suddenly turned on you, one way or another. And now, its hard to even get excited about moving on to something else. What if that turns on you too.

As an extension of this, to quote the old song, how can you know who you are till you know what you want? Floyd is cued enough into himself to know when he’s lacking something, but because all bad feelings are boredom, the only solution left is to sulk or to make something happen. It doesn’t matter what his brain is actually crying out for (validation, stimulation, comfort, privacy). He just has to make something happen (even bad things), or go hide in his room until he can’t take the quiet anymore. Then, when the dust is settled, everyone’s mad at him, and he still doesn’t know or understand why he’s feeling/felt this down. It’d be tragic, if it also weren’t often so, so funny.

#twisted wonderland #twst #floyd leech #long post #analysis #curious anon

[animeomegas]

let's imagine this: asra and his alpha are having THAT fight, although it's more like asra yelling all desperate and his alpha trying to calm him down so they can talk properly. asra is having none of that (even if his alpha it's not even mad or actually fighting, they just want asra to feel better) so his alpha just interrupts him while he's starting to panic and simply says:

"where do you want to go? i think it would be nice living in the middle of the forest, just the two of us. and if the plague continues for more than a couple of months, we could even open a shop in whatever place we'll live in"

asra is like what?? and the alpha just tells him something like "i want to help our city, but not if that is a reason to be away from you. you're my mate, the most important person in my life. i'm sure i can figure out a spell or something else that let's me help find a cure for the plague while being in some far away city instead with you, the both of us safe and most important: together"

i feel like asra would just start crying because he thought he was going to lose his alpha, that they would choose to stay instead of understanding that he doesn't feel safe in the city anymore and even if someone else could think that he's selfish, it really makes sense to just want his mate safe, you know?

and then they just cuddle (WITH FAUST TOO !!!) while talking about what kind of place they want to live in while the plague still exists. i'm soft :(

¡¡ I JUST HATE THAT IN THE GAME, MC DIDN'T GO WITH ASRA LIKE ?!?!? THEY COULD HAVE USED THAT WATER SPELL TO HELP FIND A CURE WITHOUT BEING THERE PHYSICALLY !!!

(Omg I totally agree! I would have been out of that city the second that plague reared it's head. I simply do not have loyalty to places and I would be gone lmao 🏃🏻‍���️🏃🏻‍♀️💨 Also, my prompt for Asra for Kinktober is emotional sex, which you sent in of course 😉, and I think I might use this post as the backstory for it... @bymoanne)

Okay, so Asra has been watching the plague develop like a hawk, and he's decided that they have to leave. They have to. Otherwise his alpha will die, and Asra knows he won't be far behind. Things are going from bad to worse, and Asra knows they have to leave now before the city gets quarantined.

But then his alpha says the worst six words he's ever heard.

"I want to stay and help."

And Asra breaks down into hysterics completely, shouting and pleading and bargaining and saying anything and everything he can think of to convince them. He's furious at them for doing this to him. For putting him in this position where he can't protect his mate. But he's also not surprised. This is so like them, to want to help everyone, and normally it's one of his favourite things about his alpha, but right now he can't stand it.

And Asra's alpha is just staring at him, completely blindsided by his breakdown, vaguely aware of Faust slithering up to rest on their shoulders. He'd been quick to leave Asra when his shouting started.

They had no idea he was feeling so unsafe, feeling so desperate to leave. They do want to stay and help but not if this is what that decision does to Asra. He'll never leave them, they know that, and they couldn't bare to watch him breakdown like this if they decided to stay.

They try and get him to calm down, but he won't let them speak. He feels like he's going to die, like they both are going to die, if he can't convince them right now that they need to leave.

...

"Where do you want to go?" they interrupt him, speaking loud enough to be heard over Asra's panicked pleading. His voice dies down as the words register.

"What?" he asks, dazed.

"I don't know if I ever mentioned it, but my family had a cabin in the woods about thirty miles from here... It hasn't been used in years, but it was pretty hidden and secure, so it should still be there. From what I can remember, we left the kitchen stocked with plates and cutlery, and the linen cupboard stocked with blankets and sheets. I can't promise that the roof won't leak and that the blankets aren't musty and need washing but, if you want to go there we could fix it up a little?" they offer.

Asra blinks a few times, before his bottom lip starts to quiver.

"Really?"

"Of course! We can pack up as much of our stuff as we can, we'll have to hunt and grow a lot of our food there, but we can bring as many cans of food as we can to supplement. There's a river for fish and everything! I think you'll like it, but it will take us about six hours to get there at least, probably closer to eight with all our stuff- Woah!"

Asra interrupts them by throwing himself into their arms. He can't even begin to stop the tears that fall freely from his eyes. He's so relieved he can barely breathe.

"Thank you, thank you," he sobs into their shoulder. He claws at his alpha's shoulders, desperately trying to pull his alpha closer.

"Shh," they hush, holding him securely. "I do want to stay and help, but not if that makes you feel like this. We're a team. I will never make you stay in a place where you don't feel safe."

"A team," Asra repeats in a whispered voice. Faust gently begins to transfer back to Asra, now that the shouting has stopped.

"A team," they place a kiss on his head. "We'll leave at first light tomorrow, it's too late today. The cabin is hard enough to find in the daylight and I haven't been there in years, the night is too risky. It will give us some time to pack though."

Asra sighs, nuzzling in to his alpha's neck, exhausted. All the adrenaline is starting to crash and now he just feels tired, but also so, so grateful.

"I love you," Asra says, trying to push as much emotion as he can into those words.

"I love you, too," they reply, sliding a hand up to nestle in his hair. "Why don't you take a nap while I make a packing list?"

...

Asra's alpha sits on one of their sofa's, Asra's head cushioned in their lap as he sleeps, and they write a packing list.

They leave just before dawn, with as much stuff as they can carry between them, dragging a small cart behind them to help. They all (Asra, his alpha and Faust) exit the city without touching anything or talking to anyone. They walk in silence, focused on just leaving as fast as possible without a fuss and without catching anything.

It takes a whole day of walking to arrive at the little derelict cabin, but the second they do, Asra feels like a huge weight has been lifted off of his shoulders.

There are cobwebs everywhere, the roof is questionable, and the whole place is covered in dust. But it's workable, especially with magic. They have a food source, a water source, blankets and a bed, a semi functional kitchen... and crucially, they're far away from any town or city.

It's perfect.

[I really want to build the little derelict cabin in the sims 😆 Maybe I will haha]

#asra x reader #the arcana #headcanons #a/b/o #omegaverse #omega!asra #omega asra #alpha!reader #alpha reader #reader insert #the arcana spoilers

[s-brant]

Pirates and Princesses (8/8)

(gif: @beccs) (PART SEVEN) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: JJ must confront his childhood trauma when returning home for the first time since his dad went to jail and prevent it from sabotaging his new relationship. Meanwhile, something sinister happens at the Chateau that brings Y/N face to face with her grief over John B’s death.

Word Count: 13.4k

Warnings: Angst, implied sexual content, strong language, parent/child abuse, mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, grief, and fluff.

A/N: Welcome to the final chapter of Tokens! This one has a little bit of everything in it, but it also has detailed scenes about JJ and his dad, so proceed with caution if you’re easily triggered by that topic. The love you guys show this fic warms my heart so much, so thanks to anyone who stuck with this story until this chapter. Hope you enjoy it!

Now that she has been sentenced to both punishments, one as a consequence of the fight with Kacey and the other as a consequence of the stunt she pulled with JJ to break out of ISS, Y/N can confidently say that out of school suspension is superior to in-school suspension by a long shot. Instead of sitting in a humid room with Alec for the duration of multiple school days, she's allowed to stay home, go out surfing, and do whatever she wants in lieu of doing classwork.

She promised herself not to make it a habit, promising the invisible presence of John B that she likes to pretend follows her around that she will never get herself into trouble again, but she sees no problem in enjoying her suspension while it lasts.

For the first few days of her suspension, JJ skipped school to spend it with her. Their memories of the conversation they had at three in the morning on Sunday were fuzzy, but not missing entirely. She noticed a difference in his behavior for the first few hours after they woke up under the tree together for the second time in one week. It wasn't a difference in their relationship or how he treated her, it was a difference in him.

He was quieter than usual as they cleaned up cans of beer and tossed them into the recycling, sending pictures to Kie while she was in class after she made them promise not to throw them in the trash. Rather than cracking jokes or making casual conversation with her, JJ made his way around the yard with the recycling bin in his hands and his head in the clouds. It disappeared as the day progressed, but for a little while, he wasn't completely there.

Today, he went into school instead of ditching to spend extra time with her in between shifts at work and time spent with their friends. Since they can't exceed three consecutive absences without a doctor’s note and he doesn't own a printer or laptop to forage the header from a doctor's office, he had no choice but to part from her this morning.

He bites his lip to contain his smug facial expression at the recollection of her wake up call for him. The hand holding his locker door open for him to lean on in the midst of his not-so-wholesome thoughts of her squeezes the metal hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

The curtains weren't shut all the way when they fell asleep before midnight last night, allowing a shaft of sunlight to shine in and land on his face. But that wasn't what woke him up from the dream he was having. In fact, the reality he opened his eyes to was a hell of a lot better than any dream he remembered.

Most of his memory of those moments spent suspended between consciousness and unconsciousness consisted of feeling her pressing a kiss to his shoulder, then her hands rubbing up and down his waist to slip lower and lower until they settled on the waistband of his underwear. It was then that he woke to find her looking up at him for permission from where she peppered kisses along his chest.

Their eyes met right as she kissed the edge of his nipple with this pleading, needy look that he took pride in causing without actively attempting to. She woke up on the brink of coming undone from a pleasant—to put it tamely—dream about him. With a glimpse at the time displayed on the alarm clock, it didn't take much for her to roll over to wake him up.

It ended with her beneath the sheet, finishing what she started Friday afternoon until he was clutching the pillow beneath his head in the midst of his orgasm. It happened so fast, a fault of how hot he found it to wake up to her wanting him so badly, but it felt slower than it truly was in the early morning haze of exhaustion they felt.

The memory as he relives it is as heady as it felt the first time around. He sees it in fractions; her eyes looking up at his, warm palms finding the familiar planes of his muscular body with the exploratory touch of someone who's never traveled it before, and the intense sensations he felt at the end...It's easy for him to stand here and lose himself in it. Despite the class he has to go to, he bargains with himself for one more second spent in the paradise of his memories before he has to come back to reality.

Reality, as his shitty luck would have it, comes in the form of a familiar feminine voice chirping from behind his back as he replays his morning bliss.

"It's good to see you're alive and well, Maybank."

He decides, based on who he knows he'll see when he turns around, that he might invest in a sharpie to write "Bang head here" on the inside of his locker door for instances like these where he'd rather suffer brain damage than speak to someone he can't stomach the presence of.

When he turns to see Kacey with one arm still stretched to hold his locker open, he doesn't bother concealing the genuine reaction from his face for the sake of her feelings. Any care he had for her and her feelings was thrown to the wind as soon as she decided she could steal from and put her hands on his girl last week. However, after a second of thought, a condescending smirk finds its way to his face.

He says, jerking his chin to vaguely gesture at her bruised up face, "Purple really suits your complexion. It makes your eyes pop, don't you think?"

Though the swelling of her black eye has deflated in the days since the fight that’ll soon tally up to a week, the verbal jab hits right where it intended to if the light leaving her eyes tells him anything. She bounces back after a second, though, ever the relentless pest they've come to see her as.

She offers a sickeningly sweet, yet fake smile to mirror the one gracing his striking features and spins so her back meets the locker beside his, allowing herself to invade his space further.

A collection of Y/N's stickers decorates the inside of his locker door that he briefly entertained the idea of designating as a place to bang his head against. They range from girly, glittery ones to those he willingly picked when she gave him the choice. Whenever they're at his locker together, she sticks one on the inside, and the evidence of the habit catches Kacey's wandering eyes.

Her fingertips brush against the surface of the sticker-covered metal while she ignores his protest of, "Can you not touch my stuff?" to inspect them. Since one of the Pogues in particular is famous for her endless supply of stickers, her expression sours at the thought of the girl responsible for them.

She spares him a quick glance out of the corner of her eye as she continues to analyze the sticker collection against his instructions not to, asking, "Why weren't you at the bonfire?" A failed attempt at a seductive look in his direction makes him fight not to roll his eyes. "After how last year's ended, I thought you wouldn't miss it for the world."

JJ doesn't bother to take a second to think things through before he reaches to slam the door closed with her hand still outstretched inside of it. Watching her pull it away just in time to avoid jamming it in the locker probably pleases him more than it should, but he can't help it. His hand catches on the edge of the door, halting it in place right before it closes where her hand previously rested.

She doesn't look too happy with him when he opens the door with no harm done except for the drop of her stomach when he initially pretended to swing it shut on her bruised knuckles. She didn't get many shots in on Y/N when they fought, but apparently it was enough.

He doesn't bother with the fake niceties she's giving him after the disrespect she showed him, his friends, and, most importantly, his girlfriend. The fact that she thinks she has any right to breathe in his direction, let alone flirt with him, after she stole JB's bandana is criminal. 'Cause not only did she mess with Y/N, she messed with John B on multiple levels, and his loyalty to his best friend hasn't disappeared with death. Kie and Y/N told him everything she said about their departed friend in the locker room last Thursday.

But he's smart enough to know what'll hurt her more, so he doesn't go for the general scolding he imagined giving her in his head. Since he was told everything about the encounter in the locker room, he knows she's still holding their history together near and dear to her heart.

"We stayed home," he says, casual and cool as always, with added emphasis on the first word, "You know how it is, my girl doesn't like parties. Especially not ones with kooks."

Hook, line, and sinker.

She scoffs, "Your girl?"

Looking at her now, he wonders if she was always this stupid, or if this is a new development she's had in the year since he last spent more than a minute or two at a time with her. It’s easier to trick her than it was with Kie and Y/N a few days ago, and those poor girls flew into that trap like moths to a flame.

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

The ire is visible in the way her face tenses up in places, her lips pressing together a little more firmly and her forehead creasing between the brows.

"Doesn't your, um, history bother her?" she asks, and he's gotta give her credit for being a sneaky little shit when given the chance. The girl takes every possible opening she can to strike for a potential weakness. "No offense, but you kinda get around."

He shrugs this time, deciding to drop his casual act and aim straight for the jugular.

"She likes having someone who knows how to fuck her right, actually, but I really appreciate the concern."

Much like Kie's reaction to their matching tattoos in the hot tub the other night, her jaw is unhinged to meet the unswept hallway floor they stand on. It makes him wish Y/N weren't suspended in order for her to see the gobsmacked reaction Kacey has to the harsh dismissal. Though he wouldn't want to incite an extra round of the Kacey vs Y/N WWE showdown by having her watch another girl flirt with him and essentially call him a slut upon rejection, he knows she'd get a kick out of it.

This one's for you, baby, he thinks with a quiet laugh to himself and turns his focus to the sticker collection she so lovingly crafted.

There are plenty of summer themed ones left over from the same pack he gifted her for her birthday with the surfboard sticker she used to tease him, as well as a newer genre of Valentine's Day stickers she started using the closer they grew since first getting together. They're mostly different colored candy hearts with corny phrases ranging from "U SXY THING" to the classic "BE MINE" and one printed with "ANGEL" on it—his favorite by far.

However, others are random ones from her endless stash built up over the years from birthdays and holidays deemed worthy enough by her dad to stop by Dollar Tree for a new pack, so the one he sets his attention on is likely meant for teachers or coaches to give to their students. The opportunity appears too good to be true to him when it clicks, but it isn't.

He peels the sticker off of the locker door, careful not to disturb the ones around it, and leans in closer to her to place it on the front of her tank top.

"Leave us alone or I won't stop her next time," JJ says lowly, past the point of civility, then backs away to slam his locker shut for real this time as his voice raises back to a normal volume, "And keep John B's name out of your mouth, got it?"

All she can do is look down at the sticker placed on her shirt with squinted eyes to try and read it while he walks off in the direction of his next class. It tears away from the fabric with a soft noise, and when she finally reads it, she rolls her eyes.

“Good Try!”

​​Walking out of school to see the Twinkie parked in the usual spot Y/N takes when she isn't suspended is a delightful treat he didn't know to expect after a rough day in class and his run in with Kacey. His head was hung low on his way to Kie's car to hitch a ride to his house before going home to the Chateau, since he had some things to pick up with his dad out of the picture for the near future, but then he heard her greet them.

JJ's body melts into hers upon contact, and he nearly pushes her up against the closed passenger side door of the van with how hard he hugs her. Though he doesn't want to acknowledge it, his dad has been living in his thoughts more than usual today. Ever since he texted him goodbye, he's been withdrawn inside of his head more and more, and after today's inconveniences, the rising anxiety of his plan to visit home has him two seconds from losing his mind.

Her eyes widen at his zeal, meeting Kie's concerned gaze from over the shoulder she rests her chin on. She stands with her keys swinging around her finger as she watches the couple embrace one another. In an answer to the silent question Y/N asks her in their stare, her lips mouth the words, "His dad," to her.

Deep down, Y/N had a feeling.

It began with his impromptu request to run away with her a few days ago and extended into his uncharacteristically reserved attitude the next morning that receded somewhat, but has yet to fully disappear. There is a part of her that's upset that he hasn't come to her to talk about it, to communicate the way they swore they would, yet she also knows it isn't that simple.

She has to remind herself that she knew what she was getting herself into with him. That's not to say that dating her must be a walk in the park for him, it isn't.

She knows based on the amount of times he had to hold her as she cried, or the time he curtailed her panic attack in this very parking lot, that she hasn't made it easy for him in the aftermath of John B's death. But it's because she knows how it feels that she has such patience with his communication issues.

It's not a conscious choice most times, it's an involuntary blockage preventing the words from being spoken no matter how desperately they long to be. They may have made a promise, but she won't chastise him for succumbing to the same pitfalls as her. It’d be hypocritical.

"Bad day?" she asks.

Her voice is tender with him, prodding gently for a clue as to why he pounced on her on sight. He sinks further into her arms at the sound and lets the sanctity of her touch sway him into submission. Everything about her sets him at ease, if only for a second. Her hand lifts the beat-up red hat from his head to allow the other to brush through his hair.

There's a hum of agreement that she feels vibrating through the center of his chest into hers, and her arms pull tighter around his shoulders in response. This time, when she looks up to see Kie there, she's waving a quick goodbye and setting off toward her car, clearly giving JJ the space he needs.

"We can go to the beach," she says softly, "I have a towel in the back of the van, we can just lay there and talk about it if you want."

The idea of her kind offer to him should add to the comfort he finds in her embrace. It should make him nod and whisper his gratitude to her for being the one person that knows him better than anyone, but it brings him back to the gloomy headspace he was in before seeing her.

It started as a minor distraction when he first arrived at school after carpooling with Kie. It followed him in the quieter moments, only making appearances when he wasn't distracted with more pressing matters. It began as that and built the closer the day came to ending. The sooner his inevitable visit back to his childhood home came, the more he lost himself in his fear, reverting back to a state of helplessness he now occupies with no small amount of shame.

His bottom lip trembles with the urge to cry.

"Can we stop somewhere on the way home first?"

The last place she expected him to drive the Twinkie is here.

As they made their way down each street, taking each turn necessary to bring them closer to the house he seldom let her go to over the course of their lifelong friendship, she felt her heart begin to race. And now, as the van rolls to a stop in the yard in front of his house, she has swallow back the lump in her throat at the sight of it.

She has only been here a few times.

The first time, she was seven years old.

It was a sweltering summer morning in the Outer Banks for her and John B as they set off to retrieve their friend after he missed their plans to meet up at the Chateau for a day of having fun, riding bikes, and playing on the boat. Pirates and Princesses was her favorite game to play with them because JJ would switch roles with her halfway through when she grew tired of being the damsel John B had to rescue from the most cruel and vicious Captain Jesse James Maybank.

The HMS Pogue would rock beneath his feet as he marched across the deck of the boat and took her place as the kidnapped Princess Routledge. He handed off his "sword" to her, a stick he found in the yard, and stood at the edge of the boat with his hands behind his back as though he were a tied up damsel in distress for her to hold captive. The sun setting behind them laid a picturesque backdrop that made the scene all the more vivid to their imaginative young minds.

The boat floated in the afternoon current as John B approached the pair with his best pretend face of worry for the fair Princess Maybank, who had the sharp sword of the pirate queen pressing into his throat with the threat of death should he have tried to escape.

Sometimes, she'd let John B advance on them and tie make believe rope around her wrists and ankles while he and Princess Maybank claimed their victory. Other times, they'd get backed up until the heels of her sneakers hung off the edge of the slippery deck. One move from her brother would have her yell something along the lines of not taking either of them alive, then she'd let her and JJ fall back into the marsh together with gleeful laughs infiltrating the humid air upon their return to the surface.

On the day he didn't show up, none of that happened. She and John B rode their bikes together along sidewalks until they pulled into a driveway marked with the address number he remembered from the other time he sought him out to play before.

Y/N didn't understand what they were hearing when they pushed their kickstands down and called out for their friend, but John B's little face blanched at the sound flooding out of the opened windows of the dilapidated yellow house. It was a combination of banging against the walls, glass shattering, and childlike shouts of frustration and pain. Her big brother placed himself in front of her protectively when the front door opened and smacked against the side of the house, but it wasn't his dad storming out of the house, it was JJ.

His eyes widened at the sight of the siblings standing there, and his heart dropped to his stomach at the realization that they heard it. Maybe not all of it, but based on how the girl peeking out around John B's shoulder looked at him, they heard some.

The van is parked in the exact same place their bikes once were, the exact place she and John B stood years ago when they were first confronted with the harsh reality about their best friend's home life, and he looks like he has fully backpedaled into the state of mind his childhood self inhabited. Even when he turns the key in the ignition and lets the rumbling engine sputter down in silence, he sits in the driver's seat with his lip drawn between his teeth in thought.

Yet as soon as she summons the courage to say something, he takes a deep breath and opens the door without a warning or the typical instruction for her to stay in the car. He doesn't tell her to follow him in, nor does he order her to stay out as he used to when his dad still lived inside. He gives her the choice to make on her own, and, when faced with the opportunity to support him or stay outside like the confused little girl she once was, she chooses the first option.

Her swift steps kick dirt up from the earth onto her ankles as she follows him out of the van to the front steps of the house. She tries not to make her concern for him as evident as it'd be without her intervention on her way up the porch, but it's impossible to erase every sign of it from her face.

It isn't a particularly special or scary house. It's a normal home that'd likely look more inviting if JJ were still living here to mow the lawn and tend to the household upkeep his father saddled him with since he was old enough to be put to work. But she knows better than to trust the street appeal. As he takes her hand to lead them through the threshold of the haunted structure, she is overcome with a sense of creeping trepidation that she can't shake.

"You're sure he isn't here?" she asks.

The entryway is crowded with stacks of mail his father wasn’t bothered to open, as well as empty cardboard boxes that once held cans of beer that are scattered, empty, in various places around the house. Her question is answered by the state of the rooms they breeze past in the direction of his bedroom, but she needed something to say to fill the silence. With them, they usually don’t feel uncomfortable not speaking to each other, but this feels different.

The way he stares out in front of him with his hand squeezing hers hard enough to cut off circulation unnerves her more than the tainted energy of the house itself. He isn't himself. He's a shell of the JJ they know and love, the JJ who is most comfortable tucked away in the safe walls of the Chateau with their friends, not here. If anything, how he is while he's here is the antithesis of his behavior while living with her.

Ever since John B died, he's practically moved in with her. When they're hidden away in her house without the reminders of his home life in sight, he's usually the caretaker of the relationship. It comes naturally to their dynamic, both with him being slightly older and his promise to take care of her, but everything is flipped here. It's an alternate reality for him, or, perhaps, actual reality smacking him in the face after a carefully constructed two months in utopia with her.

They come to a stop in front of his closed bedroom door.

"He's gone," he says, not even sparing a glance at her for reasons she can't decipher, "He texted me a few days ago to say goodbye."

With that, he turns the doorknob and lets the door swing open to reveal the bedroom she only saw one other time.

The second time, she was thirteen years old.

It was a Friday.

Since his dad was supposed to be at work, they stopped at his house on their way home from school exactly like they did today so he could share with their friends what he got from his cousin the night before. Being the good girl she was, she didn't even know what he was showing her when he dug it out of the backpack in the bottom of his closet.

Her brows furrowed at the ziploc bag, more specifically the contents inside of it. She was knelt down on the floor in front of the opened closet door with her shoulder pressed up against his to inspect it. The dried green cluster of a plant didn't look like anything she'd seen before, and she couldn't help but ask him what the hell it was rather than react the way he knew the others would.

"What is it? It looks like dried up moss."

JJ laughed and pulled another bag with rolling papers and a grinder stowed inside.

"It's weed. My cousin Ricky gave me a discount since—"

He halted mid-sentence abruptly enough to startle her, his head turning in the direction of where he heard a trunk pulling up to the front of the house. Her stare was still set on where he was holding the plastic bags in his hands, and she noticed, after he stopped speaking in reaction to his dad coming home, that his hands began trembling. It was so minimal, she almost didn't catch it until she saw the bag wavering under the light coming in from his window.

Before she could open her mouth to say anything more, she felt his hands on her shoulders shoving her into the closet. He followed in closely behind her and crawled in until they were both crammed into the confined space together. With the closet doors shut in front of them, he clamped a hand over her mouth, whispering in her ear for her to be quiet.

She stands with her arms crossed over herself in the center of his room, and though nothing has yet to be said or done to convince her anything is wrong, that's the exact reason why she feels so unnerved by the entire experience of coming here.

He's silent.

The closet doors are wide open as he stuffs the rest of the clothes he had yet to bring to the Chateau into the biggest bag he could find. He rips through his belongings in a fit of melancholy driven anger. His thoughts are swirling with similar memories to the ones she conjures from being here again, but his are tinged with a darkness hers don't have, even with hearing him crying in pain as a child and hiding in the closet with his hand smothering her mouth to evade his dad.

JJ visibly grimaces at the memories he's forced to relive in flashes with every glimpse he gets of the room he spent so much time hiding in. It used to be more tolerable to be here, or at least easier to suffer through. At least he was used to it before, but he got so accustomed to life somewhere else that the second he was confronted with coming back, he started to fall apart.

Whatever he can't live without, he finds space for it in the bag and prepares to leave the rest behind. But every object he touches and step he takes around the room brings him back to the person who he spent his adolescence simultaneously fleeing and wanting more from. More notably, it brings him back to the train of thought that has been nagging him ever since he texted him over the weekend.

The third and final time she came here was over the summer.

It happened right before Hurricane Agatha waged war on the island, when none of the Pogues heard from JJ for two days after he said he had to go home to help his dad with something. She didn't want to track him down to his house after they went over twenty-four hours without a single message. She didn't want to have to go back to the house that gave her chills to think about, let alone go to again after they hid in his closet when they were younger, but he gave her no other choice.

What was she supposed to do except go check on him where he last said he'd be? After all, if she lived in the hazardous environment he did, he'd do the exact same for her. If their friends were involved in her thoughts at the time, they would've gone out on a limb to say he would've gone beyond what she did to protect her if the situation were flipped. If he knew someone was hurting her, he would've come in swinging first and asked questions later, but, in her defense, he strictly told her to never come back to his house. By walking over in the first place, she was breaking one of the fundamental rules of their friendship.

Nevertheless, she found herself crouching around the side of his house to find his bedroom window and check if he was in there. Kie and Pope weren't aware of what was happening with his dad yet, but she and John B accidentally found out years ago, so she wasn't wondering why he wasn't answering them, she was wondering if he was alive.

Part of her truly thought underneath it all that Luke might've killed him. He might've been too drunk or high and went too far when beating him, too far to the point where he didn't want to risk going to jail to take him to the hospital for help. She couldn't live with herself if she didn't check, and if he got pissed at her for showing up against his wishes and didn't want to speak to her ever again, she could live with that.

She knocked on his window in a cadenced beat loud enough for it to heard through the room but not any further. After the first series of knocks, no one came to the window. It ripped her heart to pieces to wonder if she'd see him again as she continued to knock and allowed the sound to increase in volume in hopes that maybe he was asleep, but it didn't bring anyone to the window.

It wasn't until she turned back around to go to the front of the house again that she bumped right into the solid wall of his chest and was pushed back up against the house. The question of what she was doing there was on the tip of his tongue, but she said something that stopped him from asking it.

Her arms were thrown around his shoulders in a desperate bear hug.

"Oh God, JJ, you scared me half to death!" she cried into the front of his shirt, "I thought he killed you!"

He can't help but think of it as he packs his belongings away for a final time to bid his hellish childhood home goodbye: What kind of life are they going to have together if they can't get off this island? Running away may have been an idealistic drunken fantasy for him to entertain after his conversation with Pope got him to admit his true feelings for her, but they both know his consistency can't be trusted.

One moment, he's planning to tell her. The next, a day like today comes along, sweeps his legs out from beneath his body, and he's questioning whether it's worth it to force her to put up with his fickle commitment to her. It isn't fair to her, is it?

Right now is just about when he'd normally start to hyperventilate with an oncoming wave of panic, and he does, but he can't let it fully sweep into him with her here. He fights the urge to smack his head with the heel of his palm, as if that'd forcibly remove the poisonous thoughts infiltrating his mind and ruining the careful work they've done together to remedy their issues with communicating their feelings.

Just like you ruin everything, a thought whispers in the corner of his mind. What made you think this would be any different?

His actions around the room have turned somewhat aimless and distracted, which she notices as soon as he starts to disintegrate into a mess of heavy breaths and self-sabotaging thoughts. She picks up on the shift in his energy as soon as the anxiety starts to wash over him, and she'll be damned if she continues to stand here quietly to let it happen.

It's one thing if he's being silent because being here upsets him, or if he simply doesn't know what to say, but she refuses to let him tailspin into a mental breakdown without doing something to stop it. Whether he knows it or not, after what they went through with him trying to push her away last week, she knows what's occurring within his mind right now.

He flinches at the feeling of her hand grabbing his shoulder to turn him to face her at first, and when she reaches again with her other hand to try to hold his hand as he cries, he shrugs off her touch.

"JJ..." she lets the solemn sound of her own voice murmuring his name trail off, "it's just me."

His head shakes at her consoling words. Everything else inside of his mind is so earth-shatteringly loud, he can't drown it out with logic or reason to bring himself away from the memories of his dad. Those intrusive thoughts keep attacking him with doubled, then tripled force the harder he tries to resist them, and he's so exhausted from it. All of it—the memories, his dad going to jail, and his inability to accept her love to its fullest extent without convincing himself she'll abandon him—is exhausting.

This time, when she rests her hand on his shoulder, he swats it away as the frustration of today crushing him with the force of an avalanche. Not to hurt or scare her, but to get her hands off of him before he bursts out of his skin with the sickness it stirs in his stomach. So detached from himself, he anticipates pain from every touch she gives him, and he knows it hurts her.

JJ hardly recognizes his own voice as he backs away from her a step and says, "Don't."

He can tell it hurts her based on how she looks at him immediately after, but he can't handle being touched right now. How did this happen so quickly? It was overwhelming when they first parked outside, but as soon as he stepped foot inside, it was as if a switch was flipped inside of him and all of the buried feelings he kept hidden over the past two weeks exploded into this.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"You need to leave. I just-I can't breathe and"—He still refuses to look up from the ground or see her face as he paces around the room with no real intent in mind—"You can't see me like this."

That is what breaks her out of her soft spoken, timid attitude to handle the situation the way it needs to be handled. Their natural dynamic worked best for him to take charge when she had her panic attack because JJ acts first and thinks later. He saw that she was in distress and jumped in to help her before things got worse rather than allowing her to keep him at an arms length where he couldn't do anything about it.

Taking a page from his rule book, she takes action.

The room surrounding them is in a state of disarray from him searching through it for the items of clothing and objects now stashed in his duffel bag. There are multiple obstacles in her way as she steps between them like navigating a minefield to reach him after he backed away in instinctual fear, but they don't stop her from reaching him. Nothing could.

Y/N walks right up to him and reaches to grasp his face between her hands, forcing him to stop pacing around and actually look at her for the first time since they arrived her so he hears what she says. To say the least, the way he looks right now is enough to make her cry. There are tears welled up to the brims of his blue eyes, his lips are downturned with his sobs, and he's staring at her like she's about to strike him.

She says it as slowly and clearly as she needs to get it through his head, "He's not here," and before he manages to squeeze out another word of doubt between his rapid inhalations, she cuts in, "Take deep breaths."

He isn't listening to her.

The movement of his chest that hits hers from how close they stand to each other has yet to settle into the familiar pace she remembers from nights of falling asleep with the rhythm of his breaths beneath her head.

Her eyes search his face frantically, from left to right and top to bottom, for any sign of the person she's known for years, but she doesn't see him. Instead, she sees the same panicked child her and John B saw the first time they visited this house. It's uncanny how similar the expression in his face is. It feels to her as if she's been hurled back in time to the moment itself, and when she tries to think about what would've worked with him back then, she doesn't know what else to do except help him escape.

So, with the helplessness of having to watch him turn into a sobbing, incoherent mess, she decides to step into the darkness with him and do what seven year old Y/N would've done. Just like their games of make believe, of pirates and princesses, she assumes the role John B would have and rescues him from what holds him captive. It’s his own mind in this case, but, in the physical sense, it's the house.

She drops her hands from his face and takes his hand in hers to drag him out of the room. The packed bag sits on the floor in their wake as she pulls him back through the bedroom door and into the living room, not caring about what they came here to do.

It doesn't matter anymore.

The various rooms of his dad's house pass by them in a blur as she leads him down the hallway to the front door with one sole objective in mind: get him out of here. If he wants his stuff to bring back to the Chateau, she'll go back inside and get whatever he needs her to, but she isn't letting him inside of this house again. Not under her watch.

Thankfully, since he is undeniably stronger than her and she wouldn't have stood a chance, he doesn't fight it. He stumbles after her guiding hand the same way he always has, just like how he followed her back to the Chateau after she and John B saw him that day when they were kids. She led the way as he sat on the handlebars of her brother's bike, and he watched her hair flutter in the wind with the momentum of their bicycle spokes until the tears dried up.

He watches her drag him out of the home until they've reached the safety of the yard at the bottom of the porch steps, and as soon as the soles of her shoes meet the dirt, she feels his hand slipping out of hers.

"JJ?"

She turns around to see him clutching his chest, rubbing his hand along the front of his shirt over his heart as though it'll loosen up the tightened muscles preventing him from catching his breath. His body weight is leaned onto the railing of the porch steps for support. He's partially slumped on it, looking at her desperately, like she somehow knows the answer to every question screamed inside of his head, and she has never felt as useless.

"You're gonna leave," JJ says through the gasps and cries that leave his cheeks stained with tears.

When she reaches out again to help him remain upright without leaning over the railing, he doesn't shove her hands away as he did inside of his bedroom. It's a small battle won, but she takes it as a win nonetheless.

"What are you saying? I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere—"

"You're gonna leave! Everybody does! My mom, John B, my dad, and you"—his head falls to look at the ground instead of her, and she watches him work through it in his head—"I mean, look at me. You don't want this."

"Don't tell me what I want," she says.

Her voice remains as steady and calm as she can force it to be amidst the turbulent situation, but the way he said it...It takes her right back to sitting in the back of the Twinkie with him at the Cherry Bowl, except it's ten times worse. That felt like a break up, but based on what he's saying, this is one. She hasn't prepared herself for the heartache she feels in response to it.

"You don't want me, you just think you do 'cause I was there after John B died, but you don't. You're gonna go off, find some perfect guy that isn't as fucked up as me, and have a great life somewhere else, but it ain't here," JJ says, his breathing evening out with the distraction of the argument to keep him tethered tor reality, "And it won't be with me."

He can see it every time he's looked at her and debated saying those three titular words that have been floating around in his head since he first met her.

How could she want someone who can't walk into his childhood bedroom without breaking down, or someone who still has years-old scars from cigarette burns on his skin when she touches him? Her bright future contrasted with his pre-designated fate on the Cut, her personality better matched with someone more similar to her, her life continuing on whether he's there or not—it's his worst nightmare, but he's prepared to see it through.

What he doesn't expect is for her to hold her ground.

"You honestly think I'm buying into that bullshit?" she asks.

"What?"

She doesn't put it softly, she states facts with as much harshness as his cruel fantasy had, "You're trying to push me away and I won't let you."

Her typically sweet, soft features have hardened into a bitter expression he's sure he mirrors. The arms holding his waist to keep him upright move to climb up his chest and cup his face between her hands with all of the gentleness her face and voice don't have right now.

She sees right through him.

When he tries to look away again, to avert his eyes to make what he's trying to do easier on himself by not having to look at her when he does it, her grasp on his face holds firm. Her hands guide his chin back up so they're face to face, and he realizes what a mistake everyone makes in assuming her this dainty, broken girl whose only source of strength came from the brother she lost. She's a forest fire.

"You're not hearing what I'm saying—"

Y/N interjects, "I am hearing what you're saying, I'm just saying it's bullshit."

She refuses to let him off the hook, and though it frustrates him on the surface, deep down, it makes him fall in love with her all over again. Her insistence against his speech about her leaving him proves him wrong more than anything else could, 'cause he gave her the perfect chance to dip and she shot it down instantly.

The house looms behind them as a menacing presence that threatens to take control of him again, but she doesn't let it. She keeps his eyes on her no matter how many times he tries to look away and doesn't let anything get in the way of what she says next.

"You think that if you push me away and get me to leave you right now, it'll hurt less than it would if I did it later, and I don't accept that. I won't take the bait and let you torture yourself anymore, okay? I can't speak for anyone else, but I know I'll never leave you. Not willingly, anyway."

She looks into his eyes, and this time its softer, more loving, and he's never felt as understood as he does when she continues to speak.

"I'm in love with you. Whether it scares you or not, it's the truth, and I'll never stop saying it. If you think that your issues with your dad are gonna change that for me, you've officially lost your mind." Their noses brush as she leans in to ghost a kiss over his mouth and pulls away a second later to whisper, her forehead pressed to his, "I love you, JJ. Stop being so stubborn and just let me."

His next breath in trembles as he lets her words sink in, and he's stuck at a crossroads inside of himself without a clue of what to do.

The breeze blows her hair away from her face, the afternoon sunshine painting her golden, and when he sees her hair flutter in the air like it did so many years ago, he can't help but feel as calm as he did during their bike ride home. The further away he got from his dad and the house where it all happened, the calmer he grew, and it hits him at this moment that he's so taken aback by her confession to him, he forgot why he was so upset.

It's sobering. The intoxication of his panic hurtled him back in time to the frightened, childlike state of mind his dad's violent abuse often sent him to, but it was hearing her say those words he's feared for weeks that brought him back. Like the jolt of a defibrillator, he's roused back to life with more clarity than before.

She loves him, but, perhaps more importantly, she said she'd never leave him, and that is what he needed to hear more than anything. That is the statement worth more to him than the four letter word he has agonized over endlessly. No one else every attached the promise of "I love you" with the stipulation of it lasting forever. They said the empty words and contradicted it with their actions, but she hasn't done that. Her actions spoke the words long before her mouth did.

He sighs.

It's a deep, yearning sigh that sends him melting into her with the acceptance of what he's denied for too long. He savors the hands cradling his head, as well as the body pressed up against his that he has memorized down to every beauty mark and imperfection, and makes the right choice.

It isn't like it was the night at the Cherry Bowl, or the night he spoke to Pope about it. It still takes more bravery than he possesses to form the words, but there isn't a physical incapability stopping him anymore. It's just him against the trauma beckoning him into its trap again, and he won't let it lure him back into that house.

"Alright," JJ says to her through a sniffle in acceptance to her command, as if he were agreeing on afternoon surfing plans rather than something as monumental as allowing someone to love him, then continues onto with a timid tone, "I love you too."

Before he can watch for her reaction, she's surging forward through the few inches of space left between them to connect their lips in a kiss.

It's vastly different to the kiss they shared in the hallway at school last Friday. In contrast to that one, the reigning emotion within him that drives the kiss after the hesitant beginning doesn't lead them into increased intensity, it gets gentler. It doesn't explode into chaos and passion, it's a tired kiss that he never wants to retreat from. It's the physical manifestation of his feelings for her underneath the guarded exterior he uses to protect himself: gentle and yielding, yet undeniably powerful.

He feels her smiling through her tears against his mouth. In the face of everything that happened this afternoon, he doesn't feel like he should be smiling back at her, but he does. He smiles while kissing her with tears streaming down his face, still reeling from his traumatic response to coming home for the final time, and wonders how a person can feel such contradicting emotions all at once.

Y/N is the one who starts to pull away first, though it's only to check in on him. If she had it her way, she could stay here with him until the sun sets, but he did just come back from the brink of a full-blown panic attack, so she can't in good conscience ignore his well-being for the momentary bliss of their love confessions.

Her thumb brushes over his bottom lip, her smile drooping with worry as she asks, "Wanna spend the rest of the day on the boat? You always say being on the water makes you feel better. Maybe it'll make it easier to talk about it."

His Adam's apple bobs with how he swallows the lump in his throat.

"Can we maybe take baby steps for now? I don't think I can handle telling you all that shit yet."

It was already enough to allow her to follow him into the house, watch him break down into a fit of panic no one else has seen him in, and tell her he loved her, but it'd cross the line into uncharted territory to talk about everything between him and his dad so openly. Between the minor annoyance of dealing with Kacey to this hellish visit home, he thinks he's reached his quota on feeling uncomfortable today.

She nods in agreement.

"Baby steps."

Drawn back to each other by a force stronger than gravity, they collide again, but it isn't a kiss this time. It's a hug charged with all of the previously unspoken emotions they've buried inside of themselves for years, the same hug she gave him the last time she came to this house with the fear of his potential death lingering in her thoughts.

She throws herself at him with the same desperation she did that day and relishes the feeling of his muscular arms returning the embrace until their bodies are tangled together. She'd usually never refer to something as inherently affectionate as an embrace as violent, but it's the closest she can come to capturing how it feels as their bodies meet. It makes her lose her footing on the bottom step they stand on together, teetering on the edge she'd surely slip off of with the force if not for him keeping her steady.

He's about to say something, a thank you to her for calling him out on his bullshit and not letting him go that easily, when the grating sound of her ringtone blares from the back pocket of her denim shorts.

The contact popping up on the screen along with a series of frantic messages when she pulls away from him to answer shows Pope's name.

Pope You and JJ need to get back to the Chateau ASAP!!

The van doors slam shut behind Y/N and JJ as soon as it rolls to a stop in front of the Chateau.

Under the assumption that something dire happened, as in injury or death or catastrophic damage to the house itself, they bolted off of that porch faster than they knew they could move. She only turned back when she remembered the packed back of JJ's things they abandoned on his bedroom floor and, not wanting him to reenter the house, she brought it back to the Twinkie in record time.

They're preparing to trample up the porch into the house like a stampede of animals when they hear Kie calling them over to the backyard and change direction.

"No one's hurt!" she shouts, knowing that was likely where their minds went after everything they went through during the summer, "You have to see this though, I don't know who did it!"

Sticks and fallen leaves crunch beneath her feet on her way around the side of the house. Her mind races with the possibility of what could've happened that didn't hurt their friends but necessitated a series of texts and calls as frantic as the ones she received at JJ's house. She drove over here in defiance of the speed limit, something she rarely does, and prayed nothing terrible was happening.

It gave her flashbacks to when she found out John B and Sarah died in the storm. The pedal beneath her foot brought the van to an uncomfortably swift speed, then she remembered the sound of Shoupe's voice when he gave them the news. JJ warned her to slow down, then she remembered how it took multiple people to help her restrain him from attacking the new sheriff for letting his men drive their friends into their deaths.

At first, she doesn't realize what's wrong.

Kiara and Pope are standing and waiting for them across the grass near the large tree that sits as a centerpiece to their yard. Based on the body language screaming their frustration and the tears in their eyes, she can tell something bad did happen, but it's not clear what it is until she looks past them to the tree. More specifically, until she looks at what's on the tree.

"Oh my god," she whispers to herself.

Her hand is already up to cover her mouth and conceal the instantaneous frown besmirching her previously relaxed face. They both are stopped in their tracks halfway to where their friends are standing, and she can’t hear JJ's reaction over the rising volume of her hysterical thoughts.

Spray painted in red on top of their memorial for John B are the words "COP KILLER" in bold letters that conceal what they burned into the tree trunk for his gravestone. It sticks out from the beauty of the greens, browns, blues, and swathes of other earthy tones composing the scenery around the Chateau like a thorn amongst flowers, so much so that she wonders how she didn't instantly see it when they rounded the corner to come back here.

Yet that isn't the only thing amiss in the peaceful sanctuary they call home, there are random things strewn around the ground around the tree. An old t-shirt spray painted with the word "murderer" on the front, four ripped up envelopes, and a gorgeous mahogany jewelry box...broken on the grass.

The freshly turned dirt they had the contents of the box buried beneath is scattered around the trashed area as well. It clicks with her a few seconds late that whoever came here to do this must have seen the pinwheel she put in the ground to mark the "grave" and dug it up to add insult to injury.

She moves forward without consciously realizing it and stumbles until she reaches the first object of the debris field. Before this, she was doing a masterful job of holding in her cries, but as soon as she crouches down to pick up the pieces of the jewelry box, the lid snapped clean off the hinges to separate it from the bottom section, it comes rushing out of her against her will. The first unrestrained keen is the first thing to snap JJ out of his shell shocked trance.

He walks after her as fast as his legs will take him without breaking into a run, but she isn't letting him get close before she puts the box back down and shuffles forward to collect the torn letter remains. She doesn't want them to get blown away by the wind anymore than they already might have been, so she scrambles to gather the pieces until they're cupped in her hands to protect them.

"Why?" she asks and looks up at Kie and Pope with tears dripping down her face, "Why would anyone do this? Who would do this?"

Pope says, "My guess is as good as yours. We didn't see anyone leaving when we got here, so it must've happened before school ended. This is all we saw before we called you guys."

For a second or two, JJ is grasping at straws for why this happened and who did it like the rest of them are, but then something Pope said makes it click into place. It sets off a domino effect in his mind as he brings back the memory of a certain offspring of satan being absent from gym this afternoon despite being at school earlier, since his encounter with her before Physics made him, unfortunately, aware of her existence again.

His face is set in anger, jaw clenching with the tension of him grinding his teeth together, and he takes his hat off to fidget with it between his hands for a second. Their friends are too focused on her crying to see him contemplating it, but as soon as he speaks, they look up to see him setting his hat back onto his head in preparation to leave and track Kacey down.

Y/N's head snaps up from the torn letters in her hands to the sight of him storming off across the yard with his only goodbye being the words, "I'm gonna kill that bitch."

Her and Pope stare after him in shock, unable to put the pieces together about who that "bitch" is, but Kie doesn't miss a single beat. While Y/N is crumpled over on the ground in tears, she's rushing after JJ before he can approach the bike parked in front of the house. He doesn't even make it five steps before he feels her hands latching onto his wrist to stop him.

She asks, "Who the hell are you talking about? And why would they do this?"

His eyes narrow at her. His unreleased frustration for the situation in general and having to watch Y/N cry after an emotional afternoon together comes rushing out when he snaps at her.

"Kacey. She talked shit at school and I put her in her place. Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna pay her a little visit."

He yanks his arm sharply towards himself to free it from her grip, but she's a step ahead of him. Quicker than he can think to stop her, Kie swipes the keys hanging out of his back pocket away and throws them to Pope, who, bless his heart, can't catch to save his life. The key ring jingles with its contact at the dead center of his chest, and she mouths an apology to him before turning back to face JJ.

"What the fuck, Kie?"

He makes to stomp past her and retrieve the keys from Pope only to be stopped by her hands reaching out to grab his shoulders.

"Listen to me, you can't go anywhere. Look at her," she whispers lowly enough to keep Y/N from hearing, pointing behind her to where she sits on the ground with Pope knelt beside her, "I wouldn't put it past Kacey to pull a stunt like this. I'm just as mad as you, but revenge can wait and you know it. She needs you."

The fury visible in his expression is subdued by looking past Kie's shoulder to see Y/N crying softly to Pope about the vandalized memorial.

The last time he saw her so distraught over something, it was the day they made the memorial and buried the box in the first place. She sits on her knees with her mom's broken jewelry box between them, shuddering with the sobs she has no control over, and pours the torn paper into the empty bottom half of the box. Exhausted to the core, she looks more like a sullen, kicked puppy than she does herself.

It makes his anger-fueled instincts that urge him to hunt Kacey down and do something, anything he can to make her feel the pain they do right now bubble down into sorrow. It's visible in his eyes when he looks at her.

Kie knows she's gotten under his skin when he sighs, sparing a parting glance to the bike in the driveway, and nods once at her before setting off back to where they're sitting in the grass.

Meanwhile, Y/N is stuck staring down at the disarray of her backyard with nothing but pain aching through her to the bone.

Her brother did wrong things sometimes as a consequence of being human, but never this, never something worthy of having his name dragged through the mud and being branded a murderer after his death. He stole scuba gear from Ward and broke dozens of laws in their hunt for the gold, but he never crossed that line into moral bankruptcy. Rafe did, and it kills JJ to see someone like Kacey do this to his best friend while hanging off of Rafe and his friends like a leech.

The fabric of his worn t-shirt is tarnished by the dried paint clinging to the front of it to the spell the lie written there, and her vision blurs with tears for what feels like the millionth time in the span of an hour. First, it was JJ. Now, it's John B, and she can't help but wonder if the heartache will ever end. It began to feel better over the course of the week, her grief for him slowly beginning to slip from her mind until now. Until the storm clouds converged again to batter her with another wave of it.

Through the deafening volume of her mind racing with thoughts and feelings to process what's happened, she hears Pope shuffling around to stand on his feet. Then, another person sits down in his place and scoots closer until their bodies are touching, and she knows it's him. She doesn't have to wait to hear his voice or look to see his face, she can tell based on the feeling of his touch and the smell of him she's so intimately familiar with, yet couldn't describe it aloud if she tried.

He doesn't smother her. He sits close enough to touch her and doesn't push it any further.

The background of the pale, cloudless sky frames him in the foreground like the subject of a painting—a living, breathing painting that she could study endlessly. The other trees planted in the yard's leaves flutter distantly behind him and try to draw her gaze away, but she keeps her eyes on him.

Maybe that's how it is, she thinks.

Maybe it'll get better and worse in a dance that'll only stop when they're no longer here to agonize over it. Maybe this is what moving on from John B will always be like. It'll feel like they've made strides in the right direction, then something will come along to shatter it to sharp pieces that'll reopen their stitched up wounds. If that's the case, at least the four of them have each other to lean on when it gets worse again.

JJ sits with her and lets her crawl onto his lap, resting her head on his shoulder, until the sun sinks below the horizon.

The gentle bobbing of the HMS Pogue at the surface of the water steadies her amidst her eddying thoughts. It keeps her present to the moment the way the ropes tying the boat to the dock keeps it from floating adrift into the marsh. It's a motion engrained in her from the start of her life until now from countless days spent on the water. Whether it be for fishing, swimming, or playing make believe with her boys all those years ago, it's as much a part of her as her personality or body itself.

JJ was right about one thing: being out on the water makes it easier to think.

He hasn't followed her out since she woke up before sunrise and snuck out of bed to come here. Despite her efforts not to wake him, he woke up when she disentangled her body from his, silently cursing the fact that they always cuddle so closely, and he tried to pull her back to him with a whine of displeasure in his groggy, half-asleep state. Sleep finally found them after hours of staying up together to talk about what Kacey did, unable to relax from the chaos of yesterday, so he wasn't prepared to wake up that soon.

"Go back to sleep, angel," she whispered as she hovered over him, brushing a chaste kiss to his lips that he was too tired to return.

That was the last time she saw him since this morning, and now that the sun has risen to its peak in the sky without her moving an inch from her perch atop the bow of the boat, she's begun to wonder if he's awake yet. It isn't uncommon for them to sleep in for half of the day when there isn't school or work, so it isn't surprising to her that he's just now waking up when she hears the back door to the Chateau opening and closing.

Unbeknownst to her, JJ has been awake the entire morning since she left bed.

They were so attached to each other yesterday night, he didn't have the time to put it together without her seeing and ruining the surprise, but once he heard the door to the porch close to signify her leaving, he kicked the blankets off of himself and got to work. He wasn't originally planning on starting so early, since they stayed up late into the night together, but once he woke up to the feeling of her sneaking out of his arms, he was too awake to fall back asleep.

The sound of his footsteps on the dock warns her of his approach, but she doesn't raise her head from where she rests it in her palms to stare out at the water.

"I was wondering when you'd finally wake up," she says.

There's another few steps, then the boat jostles with his weight stepping onto it.

He doesn't say anything to her in response. The only clue she gets as to what he's doing are the footsteps on the deck that lead closer to her until she feels him sitting down on the bow next to where she is. And she's about to open her mouth to ask if he's okay when he sets something down in front of her.

It's a shoe box.

Y/N turns to see him, eyes flickering over his tired face, and looks back at the box with furrowed brows.

"What is this?"

His hair is messy, exactly how it was when she left him in bed this morning, and if she weren't more focused on the mysterious box he plopped down in front of her, she'd be combing through it with her fingers. He's gotten used to those casual displays of affection from her; how she runs her hands through his hair on mornings before school when he forgets to brush it, or when she fixes a button on his flannel that he missed.

JJ's lips are tipped in a smile, and she can't help but blush with how he looks at her. She never used to see it, but he has always looked at her like this. Like he's hopelessly, utterly in love with her. Even before they lost John B, back when he'd expend all of his romantic and sexual attention on girls he hardly knew, he still looked at her this way.

He gestures at it and says, "Open it."

The lid of the box is coated in a freshly dried layer of blue paint to match the shade of the sky overhead. She knows instantly that he must have dug through the arts and crafts box she specifically labeled with a warning for him and John B to stay out. It's painted with aimlessly sloppy brushstrokes and stickers placed at every corner of the cardboard box, all of which she recognizes from the stash she kept under her bed alongside the India ink he borrowed last Friday.

As she gives him a skeptical look and reaches to lift the lid off of the shoe box, she makes a mental note to rewrite the label on the arts and crafts box without the warning for him to keep out. Since John B isn't here to steal anything from it and JJ never follows that rule anyway, it's redundant at this point.

Any skepticism is washed away from her face as soon as she flips the lid open to reveal what's inside. It leaves her speechless as she looks down at it all.

"JJ..." she murmurs in awe.

Sitting at the bottom of it is a folded up t-shirt she saw JJ wear multiple times, but never again since John B died. He refused to glance at the shirt his best friend gave him the year before they never saw him again, let alone dig it out of the corner of her closet where he keeps his things...until now.

But that's a scratch on the surface of all of the things about his gift that stuns her to silence. The next thing to catch her immediate attention is a picture she hasn't seen in years.

It's one that Big John took of the three of them together right where she and JJ are sitting. She was much younger in it, flashing a toothy grin with her arms thrown over both boys' shoulders. To her left, John B was leaning his head on her shoulder. To her right, JJ was wearing an eyepatch they crafted out of an old black shirt he stole from his dad. It was cut with the kitchen scissors and tied around the back of his head in a knot.

She brushes her thumb over John B's face, then sets the crinkled photograph back down atop the folded shirt and moves her attention to the last surprise.

Letters.

Torn up pieces of paper painstakingly taped back together sit one on top of the other, some missing pieces here or there, and it makes her mouth part in shock. Her hands shuffle the letters apart to see each one and recognize the handwriting: Kie's bubbly, swirling letters, Pope's neat cursive, hers, and JJ's chicken scratch writing that she's able to decipher from years of proofreading his essays.

She pictures him at her desk all morning while she was sitting out here, ripping tape off of the roll and arranging the puzzle pieces of the ripped letters until he was sure he got it right. It made him want to rip the hair from his scalp, but he sat there and pushed through the frustration to make it as perfect as he could for her. The missing pieces were primarily from Kie's letter, which fluttered away on a balmy breeze when Kacey tore it up and threw it to the ground, but the one he wanted her to have the most wasn't missing more than a single piece.

Y/N looks up from the letters held like a precious treasure in her hands to see him watching her with that same classic JJ smile on his face, but he doesn't let her get a word in yet.

"Go on," he says, leaning closer to pull his letter to John B out and place it on top of the pile for her to read, "I want you to read it."

"You didn't let me read it when I asked before though, are you sure you—"

He interrupts her before she can worry herself over it, "Dude, just read it. I promise I'm fine with it. I want you to."

The letters crinkle under her touch as she looks back down and smooths them out on the deck enough to read through the clear tape. With one last confirming glance to him for permission, she takes a deep breath and reads the first line.

Dear John B,

You really know how to keep a guy on his toes, don't you? You really outdid yourself on this one. I was so sure we were gonna make it, but I guess you had to go all Romeo and Juliet on us, huh? As long as you and Sarah are happy macking on each other in heaven, it's okay.

In all seriousness, I fucking miss you, bro. I miss you more than I realized a person could miss another person. Whenever I need to talk to you again, I don't know what to do. I guess that's why it's good that Y/N made me write this.

Also, I'm really sorry for—

"What does it say there? There's a whole chunk missing," she murmurs.

He scoots close enough to her that she can feel his body warmth radiating onto her through the shoulder of his flannel. Sunlight reflects on the silver rings decorating his fingers as he holds one side of the paper to tilt it enough for him to squint at.

"Macking, I think. It's supposed to say "I'm sorry for macking on your sister."

—macking on your sister. You can totally kick my ass for it, but before you come back from the grave to murder me, let me defend myself, okay? She isn't just another girl for me, John B.

I think you knew it before I did.

Last summer, you asked me straight up if we were hooking up behind your back after I kissed her in front of you on the porch. I laughed in your face, but you were right.

You saw everything before me, man. You knew I loved her since we were kids and waited for us to come to you about it, so that's gotta mean something, right? I hope it means you wouldn't be mad at me for this.

I swear I won't fuck it up with her, but you already know that. That's why you asked me to take care of her,. I didn't know why at the time but I do now. I won't let you down.

I'm keeping my promise.

- JJ

P.S. Don't miss me too much. We'll be shotgunning beers together up there before you know it.

There are tears blooming in her eyes when she lifts her gaze from the tattered paper to look at him again, but they aren't sad. For once, the tears slipping down her cheeks are happy tears, not born from grief, sadness, and pain, but bittersweet happiness.

They're caught staring at each other for a second before he asks her shyly, "It isn't too sappy or anything, is it? 'Cause I thought it—"

"C'mere," is the only thing she can get out before she's tugging him forward by the front of his shirt to kiss him.

JJ stumbles a little with the unexpected force of her pulling him to her, but he takes it in stride. He steadies himself and lets his hands shoot out to grapple for purchase on her waist, keeping her pressed up against him tightly as he kisses her back.

And it doesn't get much better than this, does it? This is it for him. He meant what he wrote to John B, he won't fuck it up with her, especially not because of his trauma with his dad getting inside his head and sabotaging his relationship with her. This is what makes everything worth it.

It brings happy tears to his eyes too.

She can taste the salt of them where their lips meet in the middle. It makes her smile, wrapping her arms around his neck and clenching the letters he mended for her in her fist to keep them from blowing away in the wind, and they both start to laugh into each other's mouths at the poignant feeling they both share but can't quite place.

They pull away from each other to catch their breath after another moment of it, and she can't help but stare. How could she not when she feels like this? It’s less like he’s her boyfriend and more like a piece of her soul has attached itself to his with no hope of letting go in the near future.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me," she whispers to him.

Plain and simple. No room for disagreement or a bashful rejection of the compliment. She's pulled back from him enough to hold his gaze and make sure he sees her seriousness, and there isn't anything he can do to refute her statement.

He brushes his nose against hers affectionately, dipping down to kiss her again, but when he leans back to see her face, he can't help himself.

"Ditto."

The rest of the day after their moment on the boat, locked away in their own little world where none of the monsters chasing them could sneak through and ruin it, melts away peacefully. After another half hour spent looking through the box together, of her thanking him over and over again, he hops off of the HMS Pogue onto the dock and extends his hand to her in the most gentlemanly manner possible.

His lips are curved into a smirk as he kneels down on one knee as though she's a revered royal and bows his head in subservience, "Princess Routledge."

Her hand fits in his warm, calloused palm as a perfect match, and she steps off of the boat onto the dock beside him with an expression to match his.

"Captain Maybank," she says in her most regal royalty voice.

Her stellar performance breaks into a laugh they share as he stands and throws his arm around over her shoulder to walk back to the yard. The cardboard box is tucked beneath one of her arms while the other slips around his side to hold him back, and her heart feels full with both the presence of JJ and John B alongside her.

They bury it together.

Tag List: @gabiatthedisco, @fangirlvoice, @black-syren, @apparrio, @particularcth, @planetdemon, @idk-ijustworkhere, and @krisphann

Also, now that it’s over, let me know what your favorite part was in the comments or tags if you’d like to :) I’m curious.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #outer banks #obx #fanfiction #i'm gonna miss these dorks #🥺 #I love how he tries to break up with her and she’s like ‘no❤️’ #also totally do not put on ‘seven’ by Taylor Swift during the childhood flashbacks unless u wanna cry #cause I did and my sensitive ass was crying #that song is about John B and JJ okay #it just is

[ryangosking]

Deserve

Summary: You broach a tricky subject with Bucky. Recovering / soft Bucky x female reader. Angst / fluff / smut.

Warnings: 18+ for sexual content. Unprotected sex. Language.

A.N: I kept meaning to write for Steve but this happened. I usually write for Boyd Holbrook characters on my sideblog - Masterlist.

I didn’t tag anybody but let me know if you’d like to be, possibly a part 2 or a prequel to this. I’d like to thank @ionlyjoinedforboydholbrook​ for her constructive feedback! It’s my first time writing for Bucky so please be kind!

Your heart skips a beat when you see Bucky waiting outside your office building, holding a bunch of flowers no less. He's awkwardly leaning against a wall, eyes darting around searching for you.

"You shouldn't have." You smile as you approach him.

"I was just passing." He murmurs, cheeks flushing as you kiss him.

"Passing a flower stall too?" You ask, accepting the blooms.

"Yeah, I guess so." He smiles.

"Mr Barnes, sorry to bother you." A voice pipes up. You turn and vaguely recognise the guy, you've seen him in the office building. What does he want with Bucky though?

Bucky eyes him warily. "Do I know you?"

"Oh no, I'm uh....I'm a big fan." the guy stammers, starting to sweat.

"So you're a fan of my work as the Winter Soldier or...”

"No no, I mean since then. Saving the world and everything."

"Sure, thanks." Bucky sighs.

You kind of feel for the guy, Bucky wasn't exactly known for accepting compliments, you know that better than anyone.

"Hey, can I get a selfie?" the guy asks, pulling out his phone.

"He's off duty, sorry." You say diplomatically, taking Bucky’s arm. "Let's get going."

"I'll never get used to that, " Bucky mumbles, as you steer him away from his fan. "I spent so much effort trying to hide and now..." He trails off.

"You saved the world, that's what people know you for now." You say, determined to put a positive spin on things.

"It wasn't just me." He says, as you cross the street. He moves his arm and grabs your hand instead, squeezing lightly. He's wearing gloves as is usual in public, concealing his gleaming hand in black leather.

You fall into a companionable silence as you head in the direction of your apartment. You can't help noticing that you're taking the route that happens to pass Bucky's favourite diner - where you first met in fact, a little over four months ago.

"Feel like coffee and pie?" He asks casually.

You grin at his predictability. "Sure."

Your flowers sit on the table in a kindly donated water jug as you and Bucky tuck into pie and ice cream, apple and cherry respectively.

"This...is...the...best...pie." Bucky says between mouthfuls.

"I knew you were going to say that." You tease.

He smiles, his eyes twinkling and crinkling at the corners. Oh, he seems so happy and relaxed, you impulsively decide to broach a tricky subject, figuring now to be a good a time as any.

"So, you know my sister's getting married in a couple of weeks." You begin, glancing at him as you toy with your food.

Bucky's eyes flicker and he fills his mouth with pie. "Hm-hmm." He mumbles.

You take a deep breath. "Well, I was wondering if you'd consider coming with me, as my plus one?"

He pales a little and offers a tentative smile. "I don't know sweetheart."

"Clare wants to meet you, that's all. You don't even have to stay for the full day, just to say hello."

"Sounds more like a family thing." Bucky says tightly, shifting in his seat.

"Well yeah," you swallow, feeling yourself flush. "But you are my....I mean..."

He sighs. "I don't think it's a good idea, you saw what happened outside your office. Imagine that times a hundred."

"Everyone will be focused on the wedding, my family won't bug you, I promise. They aren’t like that.”

Bucky scoffs. “You might be surprised how brave people get after a couple glasses of champagne.”

You sigh impatiently, feeling something inside you break. "What are we doing here Bucky?"

"I thought we were eating pie." He half-smiles.

"You know what I mean. Us." You hated to push him like this, you really did, and you already knew that he wouldn’t react favourably to it, but your developing relationship had seemed to come to a standstill lately.

"We agreed to take things slowly, didn’t we? One day at a time." He says quietly, reaching for your hand.

"But that was four months ago, I thought that we might have progressed beyond that by now. It's like one step forward two steps back with you." You say, your voice cracking with emotion.

"You're not my shrink, ok?" He snaps suddenly.

You slide your hand away from his and reach for your bag, tears forming in your eyes.

"I'm going home." You say softly..

"Don't go, please. I'm sorry." He says, looking up at you, a note of quiet desperation in his voice.

"Enjoy your pie." You sniff, not looking at him. You’re halfway home before you realise that you've left the flowers on the table.

X - X - X

By the time you get home you're angry with yourself more than anything else, cursing the fact that you even mentioned the wedding. You had agreed to take things slowly, but the truth is that you’re falling for Bucky and you want him to be a bigger part of your life. The wedding seemed like the ideal opportunity to introduce him to your friends and family, but on reflection, you realise how overwhelming it might be.

Half an hour later when there's a knock at the door, you know that it's Bucky. He's carrying the flowers, still in the water jug.

"The waitress said we could have this, I think she just felt sorry for me." He chuckles dryly, following you into the living room.

You can’t help but smile at the image of him walking down the street with the flowers.

"I'm sorry." You murmur, setting the flowers on your coffee table.

"Why are you sorry? I was a jerk back there." Bucky frowns.

"I shouldn't have pushed you like that."

"You weren't pushing." He sighs.

"I spooked you.” You say softly, looking up at him.

"Yeah." He smiles. "A little. Look, I’m still trying to figure this out."

"I know. Me too. I've never been in a relationship like this."

"I should hope not." He says wryly.

You chuckle, fighting the urge to just throw youself into his arms.

"I like you, so much." Bucky murmurs, his eyes searching yours as he strokes your face. "But I can't help thinking that you'd be better off with someone else."

Your stomach drops. "No, Bucky-”

"I mean like someone who doesn't get spooked when you want to do regular relationship stuff, it's not fair on you." He says, brow furrowed.

"Look, forget the wedding, I'll ask one of my friends to come."

"It's not just the wedding though is it?" He sighs.

“I don’t want anybody else.” You state firmly, placing your hand on his chest - you can feel his ever present dog tags through the thin material of his sweater.

"You've been so patient with me, it's more than I deserve."

"This is what you deserve." You say, and kiss him gently on the cheek. "And this." then corner of his mouth. "And this." finally the hollow of his throat.

He lets out a soft groan and grips the nape of your neck, kissing you deeply, opening your mouth with his tongue. He tastes of cherry and vanilla, his lips soft but insistent.

"I want you." He breathes. "I want you."

Without a word, you take his hand and lead him to the bedroom. Bucky was so gentle and hesitant when you first started sleeping together, terrified of hurting you with his strength and self-conscious of his arm. You managed to convince him that you could take - even sometimes desired - a little roughness. He loved to take his time undressing you, kissing and touching your soft flesh as he went. And when you reciprocated, he'd been touch starved for so long that the feeling of your hands and lips on him was almost enough.

Tonight he didn't deviate, pulling off your clothes and kissing you everywhere as you laid on the bed. He hovers over you, still half dressed, and you stroke his hair, fingers entwined in the short strands as his lips travel down your body, making you squirm. Finally he kneels between your legs and tugs at your panties, eyes dark with lust.

"James." You sigh, touching yourself, wetness coating your fingertips.

"You're so beautiful." He says gruffly, eyes focused on you as he removes his jeans. You'd seen him naked a number of times now but you never failed to be impressed by his magnificence, even his cock, now hard and leaking at the tip, is a thing of beauty.

You hold your hand out for him to return to the bed but his hands reach for your waist, indicating for you to turn over; you comply and he moves behind you, lifting your hips and pushing into you in one swift movement. You cry out as he fills and stretches your pussy, digging your fingers into the mattress as you back up against him.

"Does that feel good, sweetheart?" He growls.

"Yes, please...don't stop." You mewl, as he buries his cock to the hilt.

Bucky’s flesh hand is between your legs, fingering your aching clit, while his metal one still grips your hip. You place your hand over his, interlacing your fingers with his vibranium digits.

The rhythmic clink of Bucky's dog tags and the sound of your soft cries fill the air, he continues to work your clit in tight circles as he moves inside you, leaning down to pepper kisses on your shoulder - it isn't long before you feel the familiar tightness building at your core.

"Oh, Bucky, I'm going to-" you trail off as he drives into you harder, making you come apart and you moan loudly as your orgasm rolls through you in hot waves.

Compared to you, Bucky's almost silent, quietly panting and groaning, his hold on you tightening as you feel him throbbing into you.

Afterwards he spoons you, his bionic arm around your waist like a vice, kissing your hair.

"Look, about the wedding-" He starts.

"We don't have to talk about it now." You yawn. “Let’s leave it until tomorrow. One day at a time.”

“One day at a time.” Bucky repeats, softly.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #recovering bucky

[attllhak]

Wild Returns

Hey, so, the trailer for BotW 2 dropped...

And I was think like, everyone assumes Wild will get pulled away to do his second adventure and then return. And I saw the trailer and thought “Twilight is going to take one look at that arm and lose his mind.”

So I channelled all of my losing of my own mind into creativity. This was supposed to be cracky but then the boys decided feelings had to happen instead. Anyways, enjoy!

-------------

“So, rations again?”

Everyone in camp groaned.

It had been a few months since Wild had been called back to his own Hyrule for another adventure, and the entire group had been mourning the loss of his cooking since the moment he left.

They missed other things Wild brought to the table, of course they did, but the cooking was the thing that was most universally missed.

“I really want Wild back,” Wind groused as Warriors began counting out some of the dried military rations his Zelda had been kind enough to supply them with the last time they were in his Hyrule.

“Want me back for what?”

Twilight jumped and barely stopped his arm in time to avoid striking the source of the voice with his sword when it piped up near his feet.

He blinked stupidly for a long moment as he took in what he was looking at.

Wild, their missing friend and his protege, blinked back up at him. This would be fine, except only Wild’s head and shoulders were visible, and the rest of him was in the ground, a faint bit of mist-like green light swirling around the place where Wild and ground met.

“Cub?!” He finally managed after a long moment.

“Hey Twi!” Wild grinned, fully pulling himself out of the ground once Twilight stepped back and sheathed his sword.

A glance around said no one else knew how to deal with this development either.

Wild, looked different. His hair was down, and he only had a bit of fabric pulled over his scarred left shoulder in place of an actual shirt. The sandals definitely were new, and he looked vaguely like he’d just tied a sheet around himself to act as clothes.

Then he lifted his right arm to wave, and Twilight’s brain broke for a second.

What happened to his arm was that recent or not why is it glowing what happened to his real arm why does he have a new arm

“Cub, your arm,” was all he managed to get out through the mess his thoughts had become.

He stepped forward hesitantly, reaching for Wild’s arm but pausing when he thought maybe Wild wouldn’t want him touching it. Wild reached out and wiggled it a bit, inviting him probably, and so Twilight stepped up and grabbed it.

Warm, smooth metal met his hands, and he could feel the pulsing of magic just below his fingers. Soft, rolling waves of gentle magic under metal, and what was clearly a mix of sheikah tech and something else made up the limb. Ignoring the ridges and metal and magic, it was a near perfect copy of Wild’s original arm. But it wasn’t Wild’s original arm, that much was obvious.

Wild had lost his arm.

A soft, flesh hand landed on his, and Twilight hadn’t realized he’d stopped breathing until Wild made a show of doing so when he looked up.

Twilight breathed in, tightening his grip on Wild’s new arm a bit in doing so, and did his best to swallow the wave of emotions rolling like thunder clouds in his chest.

“Cub,” he managed, his voice strangled and uncooperative.

“It’s not that big a deal, Twi,” Wild tried laughing it off, but sobered up when he must have realized Twilight was having a bit of an internal crisis. “I lost it early on, so I’ve had a lot of time adjusting to the new one. And this arm has so many cool new features! Like, I can phase through stuff now! You saw that just a minute ago. And it can use the runes just like the Sheikah Slate can, but there’s more to it all now. And it can shoot fire! Just like the fire rods Legend and Warriors have! And I can still feel things with it, somehow, so really it’s mostly just positives. I can barely tell it’s not the original sometimes,”

Twilight swallowed again, breathing harshly through his nose and glancing between Wild and his arm. He gently turned the arm over in his hands, trying to wrap his head around it being there, before his thumbs finally came to rest in Wild’s palm.

He opened his mouth to say something, but everything got stuck in his throat, and he had to close his mouth to swallow again, like the words that wouldn’t come would choke him otherwise.

“No using your new powers to scare us,” Time said, the first of the group to speak. “We don’t need to stab you because someone thought you were a floormaster or something,”

Wild shot him a thumbs up with his free hand. “No phasing close enough to be stabbed, got it,”

Time sighed, well aware Wild misinterpreted what he said, but not feeling like fighting him on it.

“Can you cook for us?” Wind asked, glancing between Wild and the rations Warriors still had out but had stopped splitting up. Warriors was also looking at Wild hopefully.

“Sure,” Wild shrugged. “I’ve actually kind of missed cooking for you guys,”

That elicited a cheer, and Wild carefully pulled his hand from Twilight’s fingers in order to take his place at the cookpot.

Twilight spent all of dinner (goddesses, he’d missed Wild’s cooking so badly) doing his best not to stare at Wild’s arm. His best evidently wasn’t good enough, if the look he got from Time was any indication.

He offered to take the first watch when things winded down, well after Wind had talked Wild into telling them about what he’d been doing while away for so long. No one argued with him, and they shuffled around just a bit to let Wild set up his own bedroll.

He specifically decided not to think about how Wild set up right next to his own.

Twilight was glad this was Four’s era. There wasn’t a lot to worry about in the forest here, which worked well with the fact that Twilight was doing a crappy job of keeping watch.

His mind kept pulling back to Wild’s arm. What happened? Why did he lose it? Was it because he wasn’t prepared enough? Had Twilight not passed on enough of his own skills that Wild could have prevented this? What if he’d been there, like on Wild’s first adventure? Could he have prevented this? What if-

“There wasn’t any way to avoid it,”

Twilight’s head snapped up, twisting to look at where Wild was curled up on his side, wide awake and flexing the fingers on his prosthetic arm, watching the digits move.

“Wild, what,” Twilight trailed off.

“You're thinking about my arm,” Wild said, like he knew. Twilight privately hoped ‘mind reading’ wasn’t on the list of Wild’s new abilities. “You’re feeling guilty about it,”

“I’m not,” Twilight tried to argue, but stopped when he realized how much even he didn’t believe himself.

“It’s okay,” Wild said, setting his arm down on his pillow, finally twisting to look at Twilight somewhat. “I figured you would. But there wasn’t anything you could have done,”

“Cub,” Twilight faltered, face screwed up as he fought internally about arguing that point.

Wild sat up then, looking at Twilight head on. “Twi, you couldn’t have saved my arm. I couldn’t, Zelda couldn’t, no one could. It didn’t matter how prepared I was, or who was with me. I would have lost it anyways. There wasn’t a way to avoid it,”

Twilight looked away, eyes on the fire that he’d neglected so far. He threw another log on, waiting for it to catch before adding another.

“You’re sure?” He asked, probably right when Wild had decided he wouldn’t answer. He ignored how small and unsure he sounded.

“Unless you have a cure for pure Malice,” Wild shrugged. “Yeah, I’m sure,”

Twilight nodded, watching the fire crack.

When he crawled into his own bedroll after waking up Legend for second watch, he wasn’t surprised to find Wild still awake. He was a bit surprised by Wild basically insisting they shared a bedroll by reaching out to cuddle into him, but he didn’t object. He just wrapped an arm around Wild’s torso, pulled him close, and tried his very, very best to ignore the soft whispers and hums from the magic in Wild’s arm.

Twilight struggled with guilt over Wild’s arm for a few days, even as Wild continued to assure him it was fine.

Everyone was pleased by the return of Wild’s cooking, and for the levity he added to the group. Even Twilight couldn’t complain.

Well, he could actually. And did.

Whichever goddess decided it was a good idea to let his already chaotic protege be able to ignore walls was going to get an earful from him eventually.

#linked universe #lu #twilight #wild #this is me contributing to the freak out #behold i've written more things #i have like #2 or 3 other random writings i might post later #but for now you can have this

[shihalyfie]

Regarding Konaka’s influence on Tamers (or how much he actually didn’t have)

(Rest assured that if you’ve had a conversation with me recently about this issue, I’m not vaguing you; this conversation has come up a lot in the last few weeks, especially in my private chats, so this is just me deciding that I should write something about this for once since it’s been weighing on my head lately.)

I think, right now, with what happened regarding the DigiFes debacle, a lot of people are having complicated feelings about how to feel about Tamers, and this is completely understandable. I think there are also some things that may be inevitably unavoidable, such as starting to second-guess certain nuances in the series and what they might lead to. All of that is perfectly reasonable, and in the end, it’s going to be up to everyone to decide how they feel.

In light of this, a lot of people have been bringing up the fact that, while Konaka was the head writer, he was by no means the only person working on it. This is very much true, but I’d like to add something else to the equation: this is an issue that goes much deeper than the usual claiming death of the author for the sake of sanity. The full picture is that Konaka has always had much less influence on the series than the fanbase tends to attribute to him. Official statements have been very clear as to not attribute the entire series to him, and, among all the other controversial statements he’s made, Konaka himself has at least been very active about crediting the other staff members as far as their influence on the series! The idea that he was the only person who ever did anything substantial for Tamers is something I’ve been warning against since long before any of this happened (if you want proof, I have a post from April with this sentiment in it), and right now we just happen to be seeing what’s basically the worst possible outcome of the fanbase constantly worshipping him like the only real creative heart behind the series to borderline cult-like levels...when that’s never been true, and has resulted in unfairly taking credit away from people who deserved it.

I’ll go into detail below, and I hope this can help people understand the situation better and sort out how they feel about it.

Note that I make references to his infamous blog in this post, which I’m deliberately refraining from directly linking for obvious reasons, but all of the information is still there, so it should be verifiable if you decide to look for it yourself.

Personally, I’ve always found it really bizarre how there’s been this obsession with portraying Konaka as some kind of auteur whom the entirety of Tamers depended on. I’m not saying this out of spite towards him, because, again, even he himself was very insistent on disclaiming credit for things he wasn’t actually responsible for (he was quite humble in this respect, actually). Not to mention that I think it’s a mistake in general to constantly pin a single person in a multi-person production as the sole heart behind it, and the Digimon fanbase has historically had this strange double standard behind it when it comes to uplifting him as the only heart behind Tamers when nobody says that about any of the head writers for...anything else. (How many times has Nishizono’s name ever popped up when talking about Adventure? People are usually more obsessed with talking about Kakudou or Seki.) Konaka’s work is certainly distinctive, but Tamers had a lot more going on besides just that.

In fact, based on his own statements on the matter and all of the other official information we’ve gotten about Tamers production, while you can’t really quantify such things, it’s generally been estimated that Konaka was responsible for something like only a fourth of the series. Which is an incredibly low amount compared to what the fanbase would have told you before all of this happened, because of this fixation that he must be the genius mastermind behind the whole series. Not only that, this “brilliant auteur” image of him was so inflated that people were attributing way more of 02 to him than he deserved; 02 episode 13 was the only thing he contributed to the series and he was specifically brought on as a “guest writer”, and the overall plot of the episode was determined by the rest of the production staff and not him -- but ask the fanbase and they’ll tell you stories about how he invented some grand planned arc for 02 that got cancelled, or even that Tamers exists because of a “writer revolt” from him and other writers not being allowed to do what they wanted. (You know, as much as I understand 02′s a controversial series, it would be really nice if people didn’t make up completely baseless stories like this just to scapegoat it...)

I honestly cannot emphasize enough how much of the problem we’re in right now has been horribly enabled by the weird pedestal the fanbase has been putting him on. This is to the point where there’s even been a double standard where some of the more unpopular/criticized elements of Tamers must not have been the fault of a brilliant writer like him, and in fact was forced on him by the executives (this excuse had always been brought up anytime someone doesn’t like something about Tamers, just to make sure the image of him as a perfect writer was maintained). Turns out, as per his own admission on the infamous blog, while he wasn’t the one who initially had the idea of putting Ryou in, the part that rubbed the fanbase the wrong way -- that he came in as an accomplished senior who was better than everyone and played up by everyone in the cast -- was unabashedly his idea (he apparently was enamored with the idea of having someone like Tuttle from the movie Brazil). Again, this is a weird scenario where even Konaka himself has been more humble about this issue than the fanbase’s perception of him; he fully admitted whenever he had trouble writing certain parts. For instance, he doesn’t actually like writing about alternate worlds, felt they were out of his comfort zone, and only wrote in the Digital World because the franchise needs one; he’d stated that if he’d had his way, the Digital World arc wouldn’t have come in as early as it did, which might be a pretty shocking statement for a Digimon fan to hear.

If you want even more specifics, here are some extremely major parts of the series that Konaka was not actually the one behind:

The character backgrounds. Konaka stated on his blog that he wasn’t interested in going too much into character backstories because he felt it was too plot-limiting to say that a character is the way they are thanks to something in their past or background (basically, he cares more about plot than character for the most part), and that he’s also not into worldbuilding. Certain things like Ruki going to a girls’ school were supplied by Seki, who infamously loves worldbuilding, family backgrounds, and character settings.

Certain nuances of Ruki’s character, especially the part where she’s pigeonholed into uncomfortable places due to being a girl, were informed by Yoshimura Genki, writer from Adventure and one of the head writers of 02 (who eventually would go on to create an entire career out of feminist cinema).

According to the posts on his blog, Impmon’s character arc didn’t have much input from Konaka himself and was largely written in by Maekawa Atsushi (also a writer from Adventure and one of the head writers of 02).

The whole concept of Yamaki being redeemable in the first place was something Konaka didn’t originally plan for; he’d initially intended to make him a straightforward antagonist, but, of all things, his Christmas song, combined with the input of the other writers (especially Maekawa) humanizing him, led to the development where Yamaki eventually changed sides and became sympathetic. (This makes Konaka’s recent stunt revolving around Yamaki a bit painfully ironic.)

The director, Kaizawa Yukio, was deliberately picked because he didn’t have experience on the prior series, for the sake of changing things up, and he spent Tamers as a period of studying what Digimon should be like. Based on what he’s hinted, it seems Konaka's writing style and choices were able to have as much influence as they did because Kaizawa approved of them -- that is to say, Konaka’s detailed imagery and descriptions were extensive enough that Kaizawa could go “sure, let’s go with that.” But in the end, nothing Konaka did would have gone through unless Kaizawa and Seki (among many others) didn’t also approve of it or provide input. Moreover, Kakudou Hiroyuki (director of Adventure and 02) has also been stated many times to have been a valuable consultant on invoking Digimon so that the new staff could understand what to aim for and how to get the right feel (and also assisted with providing stuff for the mythos, such as the Devas). Nevertheless, Kaizawa also seems to have had his own strong opinions and input on the story; he especially seems to get passionate when it comes to the topic of making the story something the kids watching it could relate to and imagine. (He would eventually go on to direct Frontier and Hunters, along with several episodes of the Adventure: reboot.)

So in other words, looking at this, a lot of these things that people emotionally connected to and loved about Tamers are things that literally were not his personal creation, and were largely contributed by the other writers! Of course, Konaka’s “creator thumbprint” is very obvious -- he was the head writer, after all -- and all of this had to go through his own vetting to make sure he personally liked it as well -- but nevertheless, you can see that this very much was a collaborative effort from head to toe, with him being very open about this fact himself. Insisting on making sure that this fact is well-known isn’t just a coping mechanism to try and remove his presence in the series, but rather a desire to get people to seriously stop giving him credit that really should be going to others (especially since, again, even he himself was very diligent about assigning that credit).

In the end, I’ll leave you with another thing to keep in mind: Konaka doesn’t get paid anymore for Tamers work (unless they make something new like the DigiFes thing), so continuing to buy Tamers merch and supporting the series through fanart and such will probably end up going more towards the Digimon IP as a whole. Basically, if we’re just talking about Tamers specifically, what degree this is going to matter is only really relevant to the content in the original series, which is now twenty years old and remains unchanged. By Konaka’s own admission, he wasn’t into all of these conspiracy theories until 2010 at the earliest, so while it’s understandable to be a bit wary about the themes in Tamers having traces of the base sentiment, the original series itself does not seem to be an outlet for alt-right propaganda, and it’s probably forcing it a bit much to read into it that way. Konaka’s also repeatedly insisted that all of his attempts at a Tamers sequel have been rejected and that he’s been doing increasingly strange swerves to get around members of the original cast not entirely being available, and the Japanese audience has turned out to not be very fond of the contents of the 2018 drama CD and the stage reading for reasons entirely separate from the politics, so it’s also unlikely we’ll be getting a Tamers sequel from him or something in the near future.

So -- at least for the time being -- what’s done with him is done, and the remaining question is how all of us feel about Tamers. I think everyone will have differing feelings on it, and that’s perfectly understandable. Personally, given everything I just said above, I’m going to continue treating it as a series very important to me, and one that many people (including, as it seems, a very different Konaka from twenty years ago) worked on with a lot of effort and love, although you may see me getting a bit more willing to be critical about the series and its themes thanks to my concerns about some of the sentiments in it and what they imply. I also completely understand that there are probably people whose associations are going to be much more hurt and who will have a much harder time seeing the series the same way ever again, and I think that’s reasonable as well. But at the very least, going forward, I hope all of us can understand the depth of this situation, give credit where it’s due, and not force credit where it’s not due.

#digimon #digimon tamers

[kujakumai]

Hi, could you expand a bit on how the Mind Crush worked in the manga and Atem's s1 character development? the yugioh fan wiki is a bit vague about it

for context this ask was in response to this post. my explanation got really long whoops so I'm putting it under a cut.

Okay so it's been a hot minute since I read them, all the way back in like february, but as I'm sure most people are aware the early manga chapters had a basic structure where:

1) there would be A Bad Guy

2) Atem would challenge the bad guy to a Shadow Game, sometimes an established one but often some sort of makeshift game like "put a bunch of money on your hand and see how much money you can stab through without stabbing your hand."

3) The bad guy would lose the game to Atem, often because of the fatal flaw that made them a jerk in the first place, i. e. "so greedy that in an attempt to get extra money they went overboard and stabbed themselves."

4) Atem exacts what's called a Penalty Game on the loser, often some sort of karmic punishment--the asshole TV producer is blinded so he only sees in pixels; Mokuba has to eat the poisoned meal he tried to trick others into eating. Sometimes you just get set on fire though.

So the first difference between the anime and manga is that unlike the anime, where Kaiba is the only person to get a random post-defeat magic slap and Atem never uses those abilities again, in the manga it was perfectly well-established. Atem does this to everybody. He has the magic powers to do this, knows how to use them, and does it often.

For the mind-crush specifically, what it actually does--purge the evil from Kaiba's heart--is the same as the anime. The difference is the degree of consequence. In the anime, Atem crushes his mind and he has a minor existential crisis and leaves his company to...work on his duel disks and do a bunch of hacking stuff? Unclear? In the manga, Atem purging the evil from Kaiba's heart means he has to piece his heart back together without it, and while he does this he is put in an indefinite coma that ends up lasting six entire months.

So even if he was still doing shadow games throughout the series, the answer to the question of "Why doesn't Atem purge the evil from everyone's hearts?" is:

Manga: It hospitalizes a person for a very long time, which is very serious and very bad.

Anime: No idea, there do not appear to be any real negative consequences, we should just be purging all the evil all the time.

Still, though, let's say we've decided that putting Pegasus or Marik or whoever in a coma would be totally justified and worth it if it meant they would stop being evil. That sounds pretty reasonable!

Atem dishes out several more penalty games after Kaiba, but there's no one else of genuine big-bad-evil-arc-villain status until Pegasus in DK. Two things happen during DK: 1) Kaiba's castle suicide gambit, and 2) Pegasus tells them the millennium items are evil.

Kaiba's threat to throw himself off the castle works out much the same across continuities. Kaiba says he's going to kill himself if he loses; Atem tries to go through with it; Yugi forcibly takes over and forfeits the duel, and has a crisis because it terrifies him that Atem was willing to do that; Atem and Yugi have to mend bridges and agree to work together from now on and definitely not kill people.

The other thing that happens is that they defeat Pegasus, and we get this:

This is before Battle City where he learns he’s a pharaoh. Up until now, Atem has just been hanging out in Yugi’s head, with no idea where he came from or why he’s here or who he is, and one of the first things he finds out is that he’s supposedly an “evil intelligence.” He follows this up by demanding Pegasus spill his tragic backstory, while threatening him with a penalty game--or even, based on the wording, saying he’s going to give Pegasus a penalty game regardless, he just wants to hear the story first.

Afterwards, though, he doesn’t. Atem does not exact a penalty game on Pegasus. He doesn’t say why, but Anzu speculates:

Atem never does a penalty game after that. Not once, in the entire rest of the series.

So once again, the answer to the question of “Why doesn’t Atem purge the evil from everyone’s hearts?” is:

Manga: After dishing out karmic magic punishment after magical punishment, Atem finally did something so bad it made Yugi, who he loves, fall on the ground and burst into tears in horror and stop trusting him; not long afterwards he is told by someone who seems to know more about his origin than he does that he is “evil.” Scared and not wanting to prove Pegasus right or make his partner go through anything like that again, he never challenges anyone to another shadow game.

Anime: None of this. Atem spontaneously manifests his penalty game power for the sake of the Kaiba duel, after which it basically disappears, and we have no context for where it came from or why he never uses it again.

TL;DR: Mind Crush made a lot more sense in the manga. There’s a context for why he does it, it has serious consequences, and there’s a later context for why he never does it again. The anime removed all of these and as a result it comes off sort of random.

#there isn't a lot of real meta here its mainly just explaining the manga #but i know not everyone is going to read the manga so #meta