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hartigays · 3 years

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big brain thot: wheezie being the one to get rafebarry together👀👀

“wheeze, you can’t just show up here like this.”

she hasn’t even gotten off her bicycle yet, helmet still in place and everything. she looks up at rafe with big eyes, rolling them as slowly and dramatically as humanly possible.

“i just did,” wheezie points out, unclipping her helmet and setting it in the front basket of her bike.

rafe eyes her warily, then relaxes a bit. his eyes flicker back towards the trailer. “how’d you even know i’d be here?”

“topper,” she tells him simply, shrugging.

“topper?”

another overly-dramatic eye roll. “yes, topper. he came by looking for sarah and i asked him if he knew where you were. i need help with something.”

“and topper told you i’d be here?” rafe asks, brows raised.

topper is a lot of things, but is he the type of person to send a kid to a coke dealer’s trailer? no, absolutely not.

“i encouraged him,” wheezie replies, a little too vague for rafe’s liking. he narrows his eyes and she sighs. “fine, i kicked him in the crotch until he gave it up. happy?”

rafe snorts at the mental image.

wheezie finally climbs off her bike, standing in front of rafe with her arms crossed. “so, are you going to help me or not?”

he really doesn’t want to say yes. but he’s sort of always had a soft spot for wheezie - she’s one of two people who don’t make him feel completely homicidal.

(the other is sitting back in the trailer, smoking a joint and watching some boxing match on his old as shit tv. the thing has antennas, for fuck’s sake.)

rafe glances back at the trailer again, then turns back to wheezie, scrubbing a hand over his face. “fine. but you can’t come inside, wheeze, i’m serious.”

“why, because of drugs?” wheezie snorts, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “please. i’m pretty sure you smoked weed in my room when i was like, five.”

“that’s not the point,” rafe huffs, his fuse shortening ever-so-slightly. “just tell me what you want.”

for the first time since her arrival, wheezie looks mildly uncomfortable. she bites her lip, looking towards the treeline.

“i want to learn how to fight,” she says, and her voice sounds so small that rafe sort of feels… bad.

which is like a new milestone or whatever, so this is sort of a big moment for him.

“why do you need to learn how to fight?”

wheezie doesn’t say anything for a long stretch. then, her cheeks get red, and the words burst out of her. “i’m getting picked on at school, alright? this girl keeps saying she’s going to beat me up after class and i can only hide from her for so long, you know?”

rafe is mildly taken aback, never figuring wheezie for the type to get bullied. she always seemed self-assured and well adjusted, with a sizable group of friends and an active social life. for a middle schooler, anyway.

“what’s her name?” rafe asks, indignant on his sister’s behalf.

if he had to choose a sister to be the target of bullying, it’d definitely be sarah. wheezie, on the other hand, is just a kid. and if someone is threatening to kick her ass, rafe sure as hell is going to find out who.

“i’m not telling you her name, rafe,” wheezie says. “i don’t want you going and knocking her door down to threaten her or whatever. i want you to teach me how to fight so i can hold my own.”

rafe would probably just kill the kid, not threaten her, whoever she is. but he doesn’t tell this to wheezie, biting his tongue for once.

he rocks back on his heels, then sighs, and beckons for wheezie to follow him into the trailer.

wheezie throws her arms up as if to say fucking finally, following rafe inside.

barry is still smoking on the couch, but when he sees wheezie trailing after rafe, he has the presence of mind to put the joint out with an awkward cough.

“you gonna tell me who your little friend is, country club?”

“i’m his sister, wheezie,” she says before rafe can speak, rolling her shoulders back and holding barry’s gaze steadily.

“wheezie?” barry repeats, then laughs, wagging his finger in her direction. “you funny, kid.”

wheezie gives rafe a look, clearly judging him for his choice of company.

“jury’s still out on you,” wheezie tells barry, eyeing him.

barry actually throws his head back when he laughs this time, and rafe can’t help but eye the line of his throat, his mouth going a little dry.

the worst part is, wheezie notices him staring. she raises a brow at rafe. he just coughs and looks away, regretting every decision he’s made in the last ten minutes.

“look, she wants to learn how to fight,” rafe tells barry. “i figured two heads would be better than one?”

“or you just a pussy and know you can’t beat nobody’s ass, rafe,” barry says, reclining back on the sofa, staring at him through heavily-lidded eyes.

“neither can you,” rafe reminds him.

always reminding him. where rafe has failed, barry has too. rather consistently, as a matter of fact.

“fair ‘nough,” barry says after a stretch, leaning forward again. “two heads, then.”

wheezie coughs, and they both turn to look at her. she gives them a bored look. “are you two done having a moment? or do you still need a minute? because i can step outside if- ”

“shut up, wheeze,” rafe groans, pushing her towards the couch.

they spend the next hour and a half discussing fighting techniques, and the cardinal rules of fighting. the ones rafe and barry abide by, anyway.

there aren’t many. they spend the majority of the time discussing technique.

when wheezie gets sick of listening to them yammer on about the different types of headlocks, she starts to get restless.

“oh my god, i didn’t come for the rules of fight club, alright? will one of you just show me how to punch this bitch in the face?”

both barry and rafe shut up immediately, barry’s mouth dropping open in mild surprise.

rafe just snorts, mumbling fair enough under his breath.

and that’s how rafe ends up watching barry do some sort of shadow boxing with wheezie in the living room. rafe re-lights the joint, watching the scene before him in amusement.

“no, kid, you ain’t gotta do all that fancy shit with your legs,” barry is saying at one point, then demonstrates some sort of kick for her.

rafe forgets sometimes that barry has military training, and despite the fact that he gets his ass beat on a regular basis, he’s a pretty damn good teacher.

the joint is long gone by the time wheezie looks at her watch, cursing.

“shit. rose is gonna kill me,” wheezie mutters, fumbling for her phone.

“just tell her you’re staying at a friend’s,” rafe suggests. “it’s too dark for you to bike back anyway.”

“you could always drive me, you know,” wheezie reminds him. then, her eyes flicker down to what’s left of the joint (basically, the filter) and backtracks. “well, he could.”

she’s pointing at barry, and barry shrugs.

rafe, however, finds himself wanting wheezie to stay. dare he say it, he might’ve actually missed his sister.

he’s pretty sure he’ll regret it later, but regardless he says, “we’ll get you something to eat and you can crash here if you’re too tired to go home after.”

something to eat ends up being freezer-burnt pizza rolls, but wheezie doesn’t complain. she eats her food while scrolling through her phone, glancing up at rafe and barry every now and then.

they’re conversing quietly about a drug deal they have set up later, a big one. rafe doesn’t think wheezie is listening, but he also doesn’t notice the way she keeps glancing up at them, her eyes flickering between them with an unreadable look on her face.

and then, out of nowhere, “are you guys dating?”

rafe looks at her sharply and he sees barry do the same out of the corner of his eye. barry’s mouth had shut so quickly that his teeth clacked together, and rafe can see him rubbing at his jaw.

“what the hell, wheeze?”

wheezie raises her hands in mock-surrender, but still rolls her eyes. “it’s just a question, geez. but thanks for the answer.”

“the fuck is she talkin’ about?” barry asks, his gaze flickering between rafe and wheezie.

“you two,” wheezie explains slowly, looking almost bored. again. rafe is starting to think he’s had a bad influence on her. “you’re dating, right? like that’s why you’re always here, right?”

the latter question is directed towards rafe, and he feels his stupid cheeks betray him, burning red.

“oh, right. you’re men, of course you haven’t talked about it,” wheezie sighs, then stands up and brushes invisible crumbs off her shorts. “well, i conveniently have to use the bathroom, so. use this time wisely, i guess?”

then wheezie disappears from the small kitchen, leaving rafe and barry sitting in thick, palpable silence.

“so… what the fuck just happened?” rafe asks when he can’t take the uncomfortable silence any longer, pointedly not looking at barry.

when barry shifts in his seat, rafe can feel it, and he realizes all at once just how close they’re sitting.

“she thinks… “ barry trails off, shifting in his seat again.

“that we’re dating,” rafe finishes, swallowing around the golf ball-sized lump that has mysteriously appeared in his throat.

rafe can feel barry looking at him. he can feel the heat of his gaze, and wow, wheezie is taking a really long time in the bathroom.

“that what we been doing, country club?” barry asks, and rafe looks over at him so quickly that his neck pops.

rafe searches barry’s face for any trace of humor, but comes up empty.

they’ve been practically living together for months, ever since rafe gave up trying to please ward and joined barry’s little side business. and if he really thinks about it, they have lapsed into something almost nauseatingly domestic.

it’s like. like rafe’s been in this weird, fucked up relationship this whole time, and he’s just now realizing it. and realizing, at the same time, that he doesn’t want it to end now that wheezie has gutted them both and laid everything out in the open, where neither of them can hide.

jesus fucking christ, is he in love with barry? barry the drug dealer?

well, rafe supposes that’s what he would call himself now, too, so. maybe it makes some sort of sense after all.

“i don’t think so, but i think we should now,” rafe finally says. he doesn’t know why he says that last bit, it just sort of slips out before he realizes what he’s saying.

but he doesn’t take it back either.

barry is too quiet next to him. the silence goes on for far too long, and rafe is starting to debate internally whether or not he should dump wheezie’s body in the swamp or somewhere off shore.

finally, barry speaks. “startin’ to think you may be onto somethin’, rafe cameron.”

“so is that a yes?” rafe huffs, already feeling exposed enough as it is. he doesn’t need barry speaking in shades of gray.

suddenly, there are fingers wrapping around his jaw, gentler than rafe would’ve anticipated, and then barry is turning rafe’s head and kissing him.

like, really kissing him. rafe feels like he’s being turned inside out, his insides shifting and adjusting, rearranging and adapting to make room for barry.

it’s not a particularly long kiss, but it’s sure as hell the best one rafe has experienced in his life.

“they teach you that in the army?” rafe asks when barry pulls away, aiming for nonchalant but failing due to the heavy rise and fall of his chest. and the fact that he can’t stop staring at barry’s mouth.

barry just smacks the back of rafe’s head, shoving him lightly. “get the fuck out my kitchen, country club.”

rafe is about to respond when the bathroom door opens, and wheezie pokes her head out.

“ugh, thank god you’re finally done. you should invest in a bathroom fan, you know,” wheezie tells barry, “i could literally hear everything.”

she shudders and gags, barry laughs, and rafe vaults himself out the nearest window.

well, he tries to. barry catches him by the waist easily, dragging him back into his seat. wheezie just rolls her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“okay, well, since you’re done being a drama queen, i think i’d like that ride home now.”

#rafebarry #outer banks #fanon rafe and canon rafe my beloveds #thank u for the request!! <3 #my fics #ask #anon

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

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The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 5

More people said yes to Hannigram, which is good because Will is already involved in the plot and it would be awkward to have him just disappear. Also, I had someone request a Hannigram x reader in my asks. Apologies to the one person who voted no; I promise there will be more solo Hannibal x reader content in the future.

Hannibal decides to that y/n could do with some extra protection, but doesn’t anticipate what she has to tell him.

I have no idea how to make a proper tag list but @deadman-inc-bikeshop and @dovahdokren here you go

Trigger warnings: discussions of alcohol, victim blaming

“When I saw his face, I immediately knew he had never once experienced the touch of his own hand, let alone that of a woman.” Charissa read out loud to everyone on staff. “Or, that he was buried so deep in the closet he found Narnia, but those two things aren’t mutually exclusive.”

It was expected to be a slow night, as was normal for an ordinary Tuesday. On nights like those, you could get away with more, like reading a tabloid article out loud for everyone to hear.

“I can’t believe [F/N] actually went public.” One of the new busboys commented. “What an absolute madlad.”

“Did you just unironically use reddit terminology in an actual conversation?” You narrowed your eyes at the kid.

“[F/N], you are making a very dangerous enemy.” An older waitress said, cryptically, from the corner of the room.

“Who, Jason?” You gestured to the busboy. “What’s he gonna do? Make me cringe myself to death?”

“You know that’s not who I mean.” She frowned. “I’m talking about Chase Mulvaney.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You shook your head. “He’s not stupid enough to come back here.”

Charissa made a noise that denoted her doubt. “I dunno, [F/N]. You’d have to be pretty stupid to start stabbing people at a crowded restaurant in broad daylight.”

“But he was smart enough to get away, right?” Jason asked. “That’s gotta count for something!”

You and Charissa exchanged glances. Neither of you had the emotional bandwidth to explain white privilege again. Instead, you just humored him.

“Yeah.” Charissa lied. “He was smart enough to get away, meaning he probably knows better than to come back.”

"You're kidding yourself." A third waitress, who's name you couldn't seem to place, added. "People always say that killers are these galaxy-brained superhumans, but they're not. Mulvaney believes he's divinely ordained, so any thought that pops into his coked-out head is a sign from god."

And so shattered your thin firmament of denial. You made a point to never learn this person's name just out of spite.

“Oh, shit.” You said, trying to hide your genuine fear with a sarcastic voice. “Maybe he is coming back for me.”

Charissa glared at the two other waitresses, equally pissed at them for scaring you.

"And it'll be your own fault for provoking him with that article." The older waitress said.

"Holy victim-blaming, batman." You mumbled.

“Alright, listen up, y’all.” Matthew announced to the group. “In ten minutes we open for dinner. Remember, if you want to switch shifts with another person, you have to run it by me first. I don’t want to see anybody but [F/N] at the bar tonight, capiche?”

“Yessir.” You saluted him and made your way over to the bar. You’d been doling out your bartending shifts left and right to avoid even the possibility of being cornered by another Freddie Lounds. You were only prolonging the inevitable, though. Eventually, you needed to return to the bar.

You passed the hostess's stand, where Charissa was stationed. Suddenly, you felt someone grab at your arm.

"Fucking hell, dude?!" You flinched violently and your heart rate jumped. "Don't do that!"

"Shit, sorry!" Charissa looked immediately regretful. "But, look!"

You followed her gaze through the window where a fancy car was parked. He leaned against the door, adjusting the cuffs of his dress shirt.

Now your heart was beating fast for a completely different reason. You squeezed Charissa's hand, trying to keep a lid on your nervous excitement.

"I think your luck's starting to turn." She said in a sing-songy voice.

"Yeah, I bet he'll protect me from the Baltimore Butcher." You whispered, trying not to giggle like an elementary school girl.

"Oh, could you imagine those arms around you?" She sighed deeply, her hand firmly against her chest. "I would die."

"Not until he sinks his teeth into your neck." You smirked, gnashing your teeth together.

"I would let him." She rested her chin on her hand.

"Yeah, me too." You agreed.

"I would give anything to trade shifts with you." Charissa groaned.

"Well, you heard the boss." You shrugged, suddenly feeling much better about your assignment. "I gotta stay behind the bar."

"Oh, pobrecita." Charissa rolled her eyes. Underneath the stand, she put up her middle finger in your direction. "Suck a dick, [L/N]."

You walked backwards towards the bar, keeping your eyes on your friend. "That's the plan, baby."

You tried to make yourself look busy. You dared not look at him as he entered the restaurant.

He exchanged pleasantries with Charissa then took his seat at the bar. You pretended not to notice him right away, only to give you an extra second to compose yourself.

"Hi there." You greeted, knowing you'd feel stupid no matter what you said. "Er- good evening."

"[F/N] [L/N], I assume?" He asked.

Fuck, you thought. His voice was dark, low and made your insides tremble. Even though part of you knew he was going to know your name, it still felt so sensual passing his lips.

You realized you had waved to him with your bandaged hand. That's how he was about to identify you so quickly. "Yes, I am she. I mean- her. Me."

Way to go, dumbass. You thought. Now he knows you're nervous and he's going to wonder why.

“God, I need to stop wearing this damn thing.” You said, clearing your throat. “What can I get for you tonight?”

He was quiet for a moment. "What do you recommend?"

"Well, that depends." You said, pulling your gaze from him and grabbing a few wine glasses down from a high shelf. It was the only way you could maintain your composure.

"On?"

"What you're having for dinner, for one." You said. "And whether or not you're a vulpine tabloid journalist trying to corner me into a dubiously ethical interview. That's also a factor."

"So that's how Miss Lounds wore you down?" He concluded. "With wine?"

You rested your elbows on the bar, filled with an intoxicating confidence. "She tried wine first. Then she tried to get me fired because she asked for chardonnay and I brought her chablis. And when that didn't work, she siphoned my gas."

"I wish I could say that was out of character for her." He looked at you, apologetically.

"I take it you've had your own run-ins with Freddie?" You smiled.

"She's tried to infiltrate my practice multiple times." He sighed. "She's entered my office under a fake name with a recording device in her purse."

"What a sick fuck." You said, before remembering you really weren't supposed to curse in front of customers. You covered your mouth. "Sorry."

The corners of his mouth turned up into an amused smile. "Don't apologize. You're right."

“So you’re a doctor?” You asked, hoping he wasn’t the type to be offended by questions.

“I’m a psychiatrist.” He nodded. “I used to work as a surgeon, but I find the mind much more compelling.”

"Seriously, though." You pushed yourself back to your feet. "What can I get for you?"

He eyed the wine menu and then looked back at you. "What is your favorite red?"

"My favorite red?" You placed your hand on your collarbones. "On a night like this, I enjoy a nice, dry Argentinean Malbec."

"In that case," he thumbed through the list once more. "I'll have a bottle of Cobos Chañares from 2016, please."

You smiled. You wouldn't mind taking a sip of that if he offered. "Right away."

You carefully pulled the solid black bottle from its crevice and placed it on the bar. You removed the plastic seal and reached for the corkscrew. The bottle opened with a satisfying pop, filling the air around you with the strong, complex and seemingly contradictory aromas.

You poured a bit of this criminally expensive wine into his glass. He smelled it, then swirled it for a moment before taking a sip.

"Redcurrants and vanilla," he began. "With floral notes that operate with the precision of interlocking gears in a clock. Everything in its place."

"So you're a sommelier and a poet?" You tilted your head and filled his glass. "I'll bet you make women swoon at every corner."

You never had the best grasp on flirting, but even you knew that line was awful.

“Are you flirting with me, Miss [L/N]?” He asked, clearly not too worried about the consequences and enjoying the flattery. “Or are you just trying to get a taste of this Malbec?”

“Little bit of column A, little bit of column B.” You shrugged. “Though you are as handsome as everyone says, I’ve had my eyes on that wine for slightly longer.”

You fought the urge to slap your hand over your mouth. You had just broken the cardinal rule of workplace gossip. Panic reverberated through your body as you tried to break down his unreadable expression.

Once again, he just looked amused. “I’ve seen those lingering glances, the way you all whisper and giggle. It’s flattering.”

You felt your cheeks growing hot. “...I see.”

“If you tell me what they say about me, I’ll let you have a taste.” His eyes bored into yours.

You paused, trying to decipher exactly what he was offering. Then it hit you.

“Oh!” You interjected. “The wine.”

“Yes, that’s what I meant.” He said. “Dare I ask where your mind went?”

Your cheeks stung from all the uncomfortable smiling. “I’d really like to keep my job, thanks.”

“Have you never heard of bartender-client confidentiality?” His voice lowered and his eyes found your lips. “Nothing we say tonight has to leave these four walls.”

Your insides turned to jelly. He rested the wine glass in his hand and offered it to you. Your hands shaking, you cradled the glass like an 18th century French village prostitute being offered a mug of hot soup. You brought the glass to your lips, the strong, overwhelming smells assaulting your orifices.

You let the wine grace your tongue. You had taught yourself to overcome the sting of the alcohol and focus on the undertones. Your eyes rolled back in to your head and you let out a little noise of pleasure.

“Christ on a bike, that’s decadent.” You said, gasping for air a little bit. You quickly passed the glass back to him before Matthew could see you. “Thank you.”

“Now, indulge me.” He instructed, glancing at the fresh pink lipstick mark on his glass. “What do the lovely women of Terroir whisper while I’m just out of earshot?”

You rested your elbows on the bar and leaned in close. “They say you’re a vampire.”

Judging by his unchanging neutral expression, it clearly wasn’t the first time someone had made that connection. “Perhaps they’re on to something.”

“One of our line cooks used to say you were the devil.” You informed him, hoping that was one he hadn’t heard before.

“Used to?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Until Chase Mulvaney came around.” You instinctively ran your fingers over your bandages, as if to make sure they were still there. It was a nervous tick you’d developed anytime someone brought up that day. “He’s stopped talking about, like, anything having to do with his religion ever since.”

“It takes a lot to get an evangelist to stop evangelizing.” He refilled his glass. “Do you think he lost his faith?”

“I heard someone say in passing that it was because he and Chase Mulvaney went to the same church.” You whispered. “But I can’t verify that.”

“I’d say it’s more likely than a regular customer being a vampire, wouldn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t trust their word because they made a regular customer into a vampire.” You corrected, hoping he would overlook the fact that you were one of them. “Secrets may stay within these four walls, but they tend to bounce around. It’s only a matter of time before one escapes, and you’d better hope it’s not one of yours.”

This man must have been an exceptional therapist, because, there you were, baring your soul to him after fifteen minutes and one sip of wine. Occasionally, you were pulled away from the conversation by another customer who had the audacity to also want a drink. But, very few people came to you with the sole intent of drinking on a Tuesday evening. You and the sommelier talked until closing time.

“Thank you for a lovely evening, Miss [L/N].” He said pulling out his wallet. “You are as delightful in person as you are on paper.”

“Thank you, but I never caught-” you said, but stopped yourself. “I mean, you never gave me your name.”

He signed his name on the paper check, then pulled out a fifty and unceremoniously handed it to you. “Now why would you want to ruin the mystery?”

“Nothing we say tonight has to leave these four walls, remember?” You grinned and crossed your arms. “Come on, I won’t tell anyone.”

He took the customer copy of the receipt and scribbled something down on it. He the folded it in half and slid it in your direction as if it contained nuclear launch codes.

“Join me for dinner someday.” He ordered. “I’ll supply the Malbec.”

#hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hannibal x you #hannigram #hannigram x reader #the sommelier #wine #tw trauma #tw victim blaming #tw alcohol

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x-x-just-a-little-witchyy-x-x · 3 years

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Circle Casting

Circle-casting is one of the foundational skills of Wicca and witchcraft. Often, it’s one of the first things that newbies learn to do as part of their training.

But circle-casting is a complex idea, even though the techniques are rather simple. Whether you’re casting a circle for the first time or thousandth time, it never hurts to think about what, exactly, you’re doing and why. In this article, we’ll get “back to basics” on circle-castings, and also consider some of the finer points of building the Witch’s circle.

What is circle-casting?

Circle-casting refers to the practice of setting up a temporary space for magick or ritual. It is, by definition, round. Circle-casting is a term that’s most commonly used in Wiccan traditions, but other magick users may cast circles, as well. The magick circle is a mobile temple, a place apart from the ordinary world where magickal happenings can more easily occur.

Generally speaking, the circle is put up at the beginning of the rite by the leading priest and/or priestess. Solo practitioners cast circles, too. At the end of the ritual, the circle is released. (More on that later.)

A circle is a psychic boundary. You can’t see it with your normal five senses. However, a properly cast circle is detectable energetically and/or clairvoyantly by someone who has those skills. The magick circle is said to extend through the worlds—not just the physical plane, but the astral planes as well.

Why cast a circle?

There all kinds of factors that can interfere with ritual magick: Distractions from the mundane world, the contrary wills of others, chaotic entities that feed off the Witch's efforts, just to name a few. Casting a circle is one way to shut out disruptive influences and stay focused on the work. Magickal trance can be a psychically vulnerable state, so many Witches cast the circle with psychic protection in mind.

Just as important as the circle’s outer barrier is its inner one. Magickal energy—like all energy that we know about—tends to bounce around and scatter off into the Universe. Motion is its natural habit. The whole point of ritual is to concentrate some of that energy temporarily, for a purpose. A circle allows you to gather more energy up and hold onto it longer. If your work involves the evocation of spirits or deities, a well-built circle offers them a cozy place to land for the duration of the rite.

We can summarize all this by saying a magick circle has two main purposes: To keep disturbances out, and to keep the energy of the ritual in. This is certainly a vast oversimplification. So we’ll do it one worse and say the circle is a tool to make your magick stronger.

I’ve heard the circle described as a vessel, a workbench, a fence, a welcome mat, a spaceship, a gate, a bubble, and many other metaphors. Like the story of the blind men and the elephant, all of these words describe something about the circle, without really being a complete explanation of what it is.

How do you cast a circle?

There are simple and complex ways to cast a circle (and all points in between). You can cast a circle with tools or without, either aloud or silently. All methods of circle-casting require concentration or visualization, and a commitment to the belief that the circle is real.

A traditional circle has four cardinal points, set equidistant around the circle’s circumference. They are linked to the four directions, the four Elements, and the Wiccan seasonal calendar. I think of the Quarters as ancient intelligences that appear in many of the world's religions. If you prefer, you can think of them as tent poles that balance the circle’s shape and energy.

These are all common practices in circle-casting: Visualizing the boundaries of the circle, walking the circumference of the circle, cutting a barrier with a knife or sword, calling the Quarters, lighting candles, placing objects around the edge of the circle, ritual cleansing of the space inside. Your casting may use a few of these elements, or all of them.

The following is an example of a very simple circle-casting technique: Visualize a ring of light at the edges of your ritual space. The light burns and purifies the space within the circle. Take some deep breaths, and focus on the pulse of energy within your body. Feel the heat and light of your own energy expand with every exhalation. That light also has a fiery, purifying effect on the space between you and the circle. When you feel the warm edges of your own energy reach that boundary of the circle, clap your hands together and say, “As I will, the circle is cast.”

Some people prefer to cast the circle with the aid of various tools: The athame, a length of cord, stones or candles for each of the quarters. These items can be very helpful in setting up the boundaries of the circle.

The larger and more public the ritual, the more tools tend to be used, since attendees may not be accustomed to the ins and outs of circle-casting. Large public circles often use multiple callers, altars at the Quarters, chants and written evocations to help make the circle more visible.

There is no method that is better than the others. The strength of the circle will depend on the will of the participants and other factors (such as the psychic geography of the place where the circle is cast).

Is circle-casting necessary for magick?

No, certainly not. The magick circle is not used in every tradition. Norse, Kemetic (Egyptian), and many shamanic and folk magick practitioners work just fine without one. Circle-casting is a useful technology, not a hard-and-fast rule.

The Witch’s magick circle is a legacy from the grimoires of Western ceremonial magick, what is sometimes called Solomonic magick. Its original purpose was to protect the conjuror from demons and fallen angels, and to assert the authority of God over such rebellious spirits. This commanding, adversarial approach to magick is now out of step with how many magicians view their relationship with the spiritual world.

Among Wiccans and others who do cast circles, most will say that not every act of magick requires a full-blown circle-casting. Meditation and devotional practices (such as giving offerings) often take place outside of the formal circle. Experienced Witches may choose to cast a circle only when they feel they need the extra protection and focus.

Can a circle cast itself? This is a fascinating topic! While circle-casting is far from universal, the concept of the aura, or energetic field around the body, has traction within many more spiritual paths. Many people have observed or felt this permeable barrier of energy. If you think of the magick circle as an extension of the aura, circle-casting becomes a lot less Wicca-specific.

When working magick with others outside of a formal circle, I’ve sometimes noticed the collected energy take on a circle-like shape. (Or a blob, at least). Other have commented on this phenomenon, too. It may be that the magick circle is something that forms spontaneously as the energy of the participants knits itself together.

How large should the circle be? What shape?

Nine feet in diameter is the traditional size for the Wiccan circle. Nine, or three times three, is an important number in Wicca. The customary nine-foot ritual cord, folded in half, is anchored in the center and walked around to trace out the circle’s edge. The resulting circle will be just over 27 feet in circumference.

The nine-foot circle is not a commandment, just a suggestion. Feel free to tailor your circle to your needs and the available space.

How small is too small? The circle should be large enough to completely contain the Witch and his or her ritual items. You don’t want to accidentally penetrate the edges of the circle while gesturing or reaching during ritual. For group rituals, you want to leave enough space for people to maintain a comfortable distance from each other. (If that is in fact the goal…no judgement here.)

If you’re working in a bedroom or other small space, the nine-foot circle may not be practical. Cast a circle that fits the space. It’s better to have a circle that’s small and round, rather than a larger one with boundaries that extend through walls, furniture, etc. Ideally, the circle should include the altar (if there is one), ritual tools and nothing else—no other items that could pose a hazard or distraction during the ritual.

Theoretically, there’s no upper limit to the size of a magick circle. But smaller is often better. I’ve worked with groups that cast circles to the edge of a building or field to miminize the disruption from people wandering in or out. These circles are not very round, and they don’t have sharp boundaries. They tend to dissolve well before the ritual is over. Smaller, tighter circles are just easier to visualize and maintain.

Now that we’ve covered circle size, here’s a few words about shape. A lot of people visualize the cast circle as a ring of energy laying on the ground like a hula hoop. Some people visualize it as a vertical tube (or stack of circles) standing up like a paper towel roll. Some people visualize it as a sphere, extending into the ground and up overhead. Some go with a cone, with the circle at its base. That’s all fine. It’s really up to you and how many dimensions of visualization you’re comfortable with.

Circles are made of energy, and there are subtlely different energetic functions to each of these shapes. As you grow more experienced with circle magick, you may find that some shapes are better than others for certain tasks. If you’re working with a group, make sure you’re on the same page, shape-wise.

However, don’t worry about the people who say that a simple two-dimensional circle is inferior or ineffective or dangerous. That’s just wankery. Fundamentally, it’s always intention that matters. I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that nobody’s ever died because their ritual circle didn’t have a lid on top. If you intend your circle to be impenetrable and set it up that way, no baddies are going to be hopping the fence like goats in a garden…trust me.

What does being in circle feel like?

Being in a really solid circle is a bit like having an orgasm. You can read about it and get some ideas…but when you have one, you’ll know.

People experience all different kinds of sensations while standing within a ritual circle. Heightened sensations of energy and a distorted sense of time are common. Words, images, and objects within the circle may take on special significance. The boundaries of the circle can feel quite strange—giving off heat, resistance, or a tingling feeling when you approach them. It’s also normal for objects beyond the boundary of the circle to appear hazy or out-of-focus.

Here are some notes about standing inside magickal circles:

Being in circle is like having a lucid dream. It feels real and not-real at the same time.

Being in circle is like being wrapped up in a blanket that smells like you.

Being in circle is like being in an airplane cabin with the pressure turned up too high.

Being in circle is like being very tall and still with your feet deep in the ground and your head among the star.

Being in circle is like looking at an alien planet through frosted glass.

Being in circle is like being able to move while the rest of the world is frozen.

How do you take down a circle?

When the ritual has ended, it’s time for the circle to be taken down. Some Witches call this “opening” the circle, while some call it “closing” the circle. Both phrases mean basically the same thing. The language can be confusing, so I usually seek out other words to describe the dissolution of a magick circle.

Releasing the circle allows the energies contained to dissipate, and the room or patch of ground to return to its pre-ritual state. There are many techniques that can be used to help the energy to disperse, such as ringing a bell or visualizing the walls of the circle dissolving. Gathering ritual tools and putting them away also helps scatter any lingering energy. The sensation of taking down a circle can vary in intensity, from a slow fade to a dramatic rush as the circle collapses back into the aether.

If a formal circle has been cast, formally un-casting it is good form. Often this means following the circle-casting ritual in reverse. For example, say the circle was cast by walking the circumference clockwise, then calling the Quarters, then lighting a candle on the central altar. You could un-cast it by blowing out the candle, releasing the Quarters in reverse order, and finally by walking the circumference counter-clockwise. Ideally, the person or persons who cast the circle should be in charge of taking it down. (If necessary, another person can take over.)

What if you fail to properly shut down the magick circle? It will eventually fade away on its own, usually within minutes or hours. Ley lines, water features, and heavy foot traffic are some of the things that can cause the circle to fade away faster. Temple furnishings, buried crystal or metal deposits, and regular use of an area can slow the dissipation of the circle’s structure. Using a pendulum or dowsing rods can help you detect the presence of lingering energy in a ritual space.

The cast circle is never more than a temporary psychic construction. However, leaving an unattended circle is a weak coda to your magickal working. It also can leave an open portal through which unwanted entities can travel. For best results, always pack up your circle when you’re done.

Information found on: https://www.groveandgrotto.com/blogs/articles/circle-casting-basics-all-you-need-to-know-about-magick-circles

#witchblr #my research #circle casting

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luzswonderland · 3 years

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Thoughts on Season 2 Thus Far..

I gonna keep most of my thoughts on all the episodes brief, but also long enough where you guys can get the idea of where these episodes stand in levels of importance to me. I already have a lot personal favorites in this first half of the season and hope that the second half will deliver the same energy.

EPISODE 1: Separate Tides

Good episode to start off the second season

Episode does a good job of addressing the different circumstances that Eda, Lilith, and Luz have with adjusting to life after the events of “Young Blood, Old Souls.”

We see the Golden Guard for the first time. With a voice too. I have more to say about him later when I get to the future episodes. But he is a treat!

The reintroduction of the portal and Emperor Belos’ plans for the human world in this episode, does a good job of reminding the audience of what is as stake this season.

Adore Luz and Eda’s pirate outfits ❤

Overall, a strong start to a very ambitious season.

Episode 2: Escaping Expulsion (Personal Favorite)

We finally see Amity’s parents!!!

Wasn’t expecting Odalia’s eyes to be blue, but both parents fit the personalities I originally envisioned them to have

Luz teaching Eda and Lilith to use magic through the glyphs was so cute and shows how different both Eda and Lilith are when it comes to approaching magic

Love how Amity’s separation from Luz was the trigger that caused her to stand up to her parents

Even though I kinda knew the expulsion from Hexside wasn’t going to permanent, it still shows how much pull Amity’s parents have at Hexside and the Boiling Isles.

Looks like the abominations that Alador has made for profit will be used to fulfill whatever plans Emperor Belos has for the human world.

Loved Amity and Luz’s interactions!!!

Episode 3: Echoes of the Past (Personal Favorite)

Fantastic King centered episode

I know that invisibility spell will come in handy in one of the later episodes. Good job, Luz

Hooty and Lilith are a riot this episode. Was not expecting them to get along at all this season.

I thought the show was going to make them polar opposites, but good to see that Hooty has a fan in the house.

King trying to remember his past and recounting his childhood memories was so sad because you realize that he has been trying to find out who he really is this entire time😭

The temple where King was born holds so much history and I hope we go back there soon

Will we find out what happened to King’s dad? What potential does King hold? Find out next time on DBZ!!!

Episode 4: Keeping Up A-fear-ances

Finally get to see Eda and Lilith’s mom and her palisman’s a hawk.

Love the pattern of all members of the Clawthorne family having bird themed palismen. I wonder what palisman Eda’s dad has.

Love how the episode addresses the blatant issue that Gwendolyn has with trying to find a cure for Eda. She cares for her daughter, but she is being blinded by ambition

The scams in the book she was reading were kinda funny tho

Lilith being upset that her mom favors Edal more than her is relatable, but also makes sense considering how the curse impacted Eda’s childhood

Lilith wanting to travel with her mom makes sense and I’m happy she made the decision to do that

Lilith’s beast from is cool

We finally get more information about there being another human that came to the Boiling Isles long ago!!!

We finally catch up with what’s going on at home and see that Luz’s imposter is blending in just fine and Camila is none the wiser. At least that buys Luz some time in the Boiling Isles

Episode 5: Through the Looking Glass Ruins

We get a Gus-centered episode and I’m here for it. I love it when the show deviates from the main narrative and focuses on the supporting cast

Even though I’m not the biggest fans of their personalities, the introduction of the students from Glandus High was great

I really love the character designs of these students, especially Bria, she looks so cute

Gus getting more character development and bonding with Mattholomule was good to see, I hope we see more of their interactions in future episodes

SO MANY LUMITY MOMENTS!!!

Luz getting more attracted to Amity

Amity putting her job on the line, so they could find Philip’s diary

Luz saying that she hopes to show Amity the human world one day

Luz successfully getting Amity’s job back

The kiss on cheek at the end of the episode by Amity

The blushing!!!💜💚-I can go on and on

Amity’s new look fits her well and shows that she is starting to live for herself and not her parents-Good!

Through the help of the Echo Mouse, we also get more information about why Philip came to the Boiling Isle in the first place.

But the Echo Mouse is being picky and stops before it gets good😫

Episode 6: Hunting Palisman (Personal Favorite)

This is my favorite episode of the season so far and probably my top ten favorite episodes of the series.

We are finally introduced to Hunter as the Golden Guard and he is a treat

Everything from his character design, to his goals, to his interactions with Luz make him very intriguing.

The kids begin to pick out their palisman and a lot of them fit their personalities, especially Willow’s.

I’m glad the show is addressing the fact that Luz doesn’t know what she wants to do when she becomes a witch because tbh I’m not sure either. I know she wants to help and protect the people of the Boiling Isles but she can’t really do that if she wants to go back home.

What a good time to bring up this internal conflict

Kikimora wanting to get rid of Hunter makes sense seeing as how the Emperor’s Coven is based of performance

LIST OF FAVORITE HUNTER AND LUZ MOMENTS:

Hunter and Luz’s interaction on Hunter’s ship

Luz slapping Hunter to wake him up😂

Luz stealing Hunter’s staff

Hunter revealing his family history and why he defers to Emperor Belos

These two give off a good sibling vibe and I want to see more of this later

I originally thought the red cardinal was going to be for Luz, but it ends up being Hunter’s palisman at the end of the episode-Interesting

Whatever Luz’s palisman is going to be, I hope it’s an animal that fits her personality because I thought the red cardinal would have been perfect

Maybe she will get a violet-backed starling as a palisman🤔

Hunter comes off as very complex immediately and I love that the show let’s us know that he trying to figure out his place in the Boiling Isles as a powerless being.

Episode 7: Eda’s Requiem

An Eda centered episode is such a plus for this season

So far I feel like the show has had Eda be a main plot point, but she hasn’t really been given her own episode-This episode takes a good step in the right direction

Eda feeling like she’s losing both Luz and King because they have both trying to find out more about their personal journeys is equivalent to a mother accepting that fact that her kids are moving across the country 😥

Eda reuniting with Raine is nice to see. You can automatically tell right off the bat that they have history

Raine being a rebel against Emperor Belos while working under Emperor Belos as a coven leader is BOLD AF

I see why Eda fell for them

We are introduced to the Abomination and Beast Keeping Coven leaders and I love their character designs, especially for Darius

The scene where Raine and Eda play together was so beautiful and does a fantastic job of representing how pure their relationship was and currently is

I love how Raine realizing that Eda has more to live for than she thinks and puts a stop to the song they play in order to sacrifice himself

I know we are going to see Raine again, but I really hope Belos doesn’t do anything bad to them. Raine is a sweetheart

Even though Luz and King lose the Gland Plix race, it was still nice to see that Eda came towards the end of the face.

The reveal of King wanting to take Eda’s last name at the end of the episode is one of the main reasons why I love King and Eda’s relationship. They really do come off as mother and son❤

Episode 8: Knock, Knock, Knockin’ on Hooty’s Door (Personal Favorite)

This is a Hooty’s centered episode which is a first for this show, but this ended up being one of my favorite episodes of the show because of what it addresses

Hooty helping King accidently discover his powers was a shock to me because I just through their interaction was going to end up being pointless

King can now be more useful in battle 😁

We finally see Eda’s dad and see why Eda has a hard time accepting her cursed side.

We also learn how the curse has negatively impacted her relationship with so many people, such as Raine 😥

Eda accepting her cursed side is the first step to begin this traumatic healing process. At this point, I don’t think the show will cure Eda of her curse and I don’t think they should honestly. It teaches the audience that you sometimes have to live with what you have whether it be a disease, a physical disability or mental illness.

GOOD LESSON👌👌

Eda’s harpy form looks amazing. I can’t wait to see what the show will do with this form in the future.

Hooty helping Luz with her crush on Amity was one of the best parts of the episode.

The Tunnel of Love scene and the mixed signals from Luz and Amity had be dying🤣

Luz building up the courage to ask Amity out was so sweet and so real at the same time.

It came off as real conversation between awkward teens trying to figure a romantic relationship out🥰

LUMITY IS CANON!!!😍💜💚

This happened sooner than I thought, but I’m glad it did. This is huge, especially for a Disney show.

Just when I started to like Hooty a lot more, he had to mess it up when he ate a letter from someone who could be King’s dad (?)

DANG IT, HOOTY

Hooty freaking out when he thinks he messed with helping King, Eda and Luz never got old 😂

The comedy was on point with this episode and I love how everything just falls in to place.

Episode 9: Eclipse Lake(Personal Favorite)

This episode had so much going on and I have a lot to say.

We get back to the Emperor Belos plotline of him trying to get to the human world and find out the Belos has actually been to the human world previously🤔

I wonder what Belos wants to do with Hunter and how he relates to these “plans”

Hunter is totally going to get betrayed by his uncle 😥

Amity’s palisman is adorable, I guess she got it off-screen

“DragonClaw Z”😂😂😂

Love how everyone is coming together to protect the house, it shows they really know what’s at stake

Amity using every opportunity she gets to call Luz her girlfriend is so cute❤

Hard to believe she hated his girl’s guts at the beginning of last season lol

Sick Luz is funny Luz

More lore about the secrets of the Boiling Isles and Titan’s Blood

I really wish Luz could have came to Eclipse Lake with the rest of the cast, but I guess the rest of the cast needed to experience Hunter for themselves lol

Hunter being roasted by Eda, King and Amity was hilarious 😂

“A bad, but sad boy.”-Yep that’s our Hunter 🤣

Hunter trying to get into Amity’s head concerning her relationship with Luz and her role in the Boiling Isles was surprising

I’m going to assume that Amity hasn’t been in a romantic relationship before so everything with Luz is new to her. Amity is usually very level-headed.

Even though Harpy-Eda is cool, I like that Eda doesn’t know how to control his form yet, it shows that she has a lot to learn before this form this 100% mastered

Hunter’s desperation to get his uncle’s approval is just sad; I really want to know his backstory because this isn’t it at all

Praise King for helping Amity figure out the text messages🙌

I love how Amity tries to relate to Hunter, it sweet and shows how much she has grown. If only see did a better job of hiding the key 😣

The fight between Amity and Hunter is amazing. I love when the show just flexes its animation like this.

It may not be better than Eda and Lilith’s fight, but I still felt the tension between these two characters. When these two grow up, they are going to be some of the most powerful witches in the Boiling Isles for sure.

Hunter getting to Amity’s head about harming Luz is a low blow imo, but I’m glad Amity knew what was at stake in the situation

Crushing the key was smart tho. Even in stressful situations like these, Amity still keeps her cool. We love to see it😉

Luz can now use some of the Titan’s Blood from Amity’s glove to try to return back home!!!

This episode had no business being this good. When the plot kicks in the show, it never fails to deliver.

Episode 10: Yesterday’s Lie (Personal Favorite)

We finally catch up with what’s going on back on Earth and find out more about Luz’s impersonator.

The gang making a makeshift portal out all of Eda’s junk is very creative. I wondered what they were going to do with that stuff now that Eda can’t sell human collectables anymore.

The dimension that Luz enters through the portal is very trippy and creative. It makes sense since the portal they made is not authentic.

Luz mirror hoping and seeing someone impersonate her had to be scary. I couldn’t imagine.

We find out that Luz’s impersonator is actually a creature from the Boiling Isles known as a “Basilisk”

Vee’s backstrory is awful, I completely understand why she came to Earth and got comfortable after what she went through

We find out that Eda interacted with humans with an alias known as “Marylin”😂

Even though Luz doesn’t find a way home, this is the next best thing to let her mom know that she is okay.

Jacob gave off weird vibes immediately, so when he captures Vee to use her for fame, I wasn’t surprised.

What did surprise me was the fact that Jacob has been watching Vee for a while and he had the house where she transformed in monitored

I wonder if he’s seen anything else🤔

Camila is the GOAT. She came through and helped Vee out. A lot of people would have just ignored the situation, but she knew that Vee was important to Luz and I respect that👏👏

I’m glad she also agrees to keep Vee despite the situation

The scene between Luz and Camila was very heart-wrenching. Luz came clean about everything and Camila’s reaction to that was expected but it was still sad to see

The music and Camila trying to reach out to Luz was just 😭

This episode is a great mid-season finale. This episode addressed so much and foreshadows a lot of plot points to come in the later episodes.

The first half of season 2 had some bangers. More than half of these episodes are already in my top favorites of the series and we still have 11 episodes left. Good Job Owl House. I can’t wait see what the other half has left in store 🙌🙌

#the owl house #toh #owl house season 2 #owl house analysis

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the-last-cuddlebender · 3 years

Text

Kataang Pilot!AU

(This prompt was really fun. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, Anon!)

Words: 1,659

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

Katara met him when they were in flight school. Well, ‘met’ might be too strong a word.

She was walking down the hall and contemplating fluid dynamics when she passed him—the boy with tattoos a shade of blue that put the sky to shame and with a smile so bright that she had to squint to behold it. His laugh was a vapor trail that made her giddy like nothing else had done before. He gesticulated so animatedly that he nearly cut off the heads of a dozen passers-by.

Katara tried, once, to talk to him. It was the only test in flight school that she failed. She was too quiet; the world was too loud. It didn’t exactly help that some boy named Haru had pulled the tattooed boy into a headlock that devolved into a wrestling match just as she got his attention.

He tried, twice, to talk to her. He was more than successful both times.

The first time, he spotted her from across the courtyard and damn near teleported to her.

His name was Aang. He wasn’t that tall.

He was the kindest soul she’d ever met.

When he left the school, he took most of her with him, and Katara had been searching for what he stole ever since.

...

Not too long after he left her puzzled, empty, and longing, Katara had to leave, as well. But it wasn’t for an advanced program like he flew off to.

Gran-Gran had a heart attack. It wasn’t pretty. Katara was the glue and the salve cooing her brother and her father to cope and recover. They helped her just as much, and she vowed to visit them more.

(Gran-Gran told her that she saw death, called him a bitch, and reminded him to tell her daughter-in-law that Kya had to wait another ten years for her company.)

...

Katara was only a little behind and only had to retake a few classes when she returned to flight school a year and a half later, but it wasn’t the end of the world.

Graduating was easy, but choosing an employer? That was hard. Katara was an ace—the top of her class. They even put her photo in the hall of notable students.

...She was reminded of Aang and what he stole from her every time she saw his portrait pinned next to hers.

...

It was a requirement to serve as a co-pilot for the first few years after schooling. It was like a continued education after medical school when an MD truly learned what it meant to be a practitioner, but turning from co-captain to captain felt like it was taking twice as long.

Sometimes, it took students twelve years to become a captain. Sometimes, it took them two years.

It took Aang eight months.

Katara was entering her ninth month when she was transferred to his airline.

He spotted her from across the terminal like he had been waiting and looking for her. He vanished and reappeared at her side, and if only he had a puff of smoke, she would have thought him a magician.

He shook her hand and talked at Mach speed. His smile alone nearly blew her away, but his hand holding hers kept her on her feet.

“—it was you! They all said you dropped out, but I knew you wouldn’t! And then I saw your plaque when I visited on a favor-call from Roku, and I couldn’t believe—!”

He paused. Katara’s world stood still. Her world also looked kindof splotchy and dotted with black.

That was weird…

Oh wait.

Breathing.

Breathing was a thing she had to do.

Unfortunately, Katara was too late in her revelation. Her heart broke when his eyes softened like that and his concern boiled over into panic. She was thinking about how nice it sounded when he said her name even as she fell back and fainted.

He caught her, of course.

Luckily, Mai and Lu Ten were willing to exchange their schedules to save either Katara or Aang from being fired.

(He had refused to leave her. It was incredibly foolish. Top in the industry or not, their superiors would only take so much from even him.)

It wasn’t exactly a first date, but he bought her food from the cafeteria and bought her one of those super-fuzzy travel blankets to keep her warm. They talked over pizza that was so greasy that they had to dab it with napkins, and they laughed over coffee that was far too bitter to be called ‘edible’.

They shared secrets over hot cocoa and talked like they knew each other forever.

Aang thought he was being sly when he loaded his straw with a paper wad and blew it at her.

He smiled like a kid on Christmas.

Katara felt like she was one, too.

The g-forces she experienced when he smiled—at her—made her so lightheaded that she whispered a thankful prayer to whoever was pulling her life’s strings that she was seated when she first witnessed the miracle so close and in its entirety.

They fell asleep back-to-back (though it was more like side-to-side) in the terminal—just another ‘couple’ bending under the stress of a connecting flight.

...

“You seem eager to be out of here.” Katara settled into her co-pilot’s chair as her captain fussed over the little details that Katara’s classmates had made fun of her for caring about.

“Ba Sing Se has never been...Well, let’s just say that it’s not like how I was raised.”

“But the South is?”

“Of course! Middle of nowhere, lots of high places, room to run and frolic as I please—”

Katara couldn’t hide her laugh. “Frolic?”

“Have you never frolicked?”

“When I was a girl, maybe.”

“You should try it sometime. It’s not like it gets any less fun with age.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“...Maybe.” Aang scratched his face, didn’t meet her eyes, and flushed a color even brighter than the emergency exit sign. “Or it could...be a date?”

“To go frolicking?”

“Of course.”

It was quiet until it wasn’t. A giggle slipped past Katara’s defenses. She hugged her middle and laughed so hard that she cried, and she nearly laughed herself into a coma when Aang bent over, too. His laugh sounded like how good memories felt, and Katara never wanted to hear more of something in her entire life.

She couldn’t feel her seat beneath her—just the feeling of her hand on his arm and the soft bumping of his head against hers.

Katara was falling, and she was falling hard.

But, for some reason, she wasn’t scared of hitting the ground.

If she didn’t know any better, she might have thought that she was flying.

...

Sokka, having heard the hint of interest in Katara’s voice when she recounted her tale with her dreamy tattooed captain, made immediate plans and cashed-in on more than a few favors to get himself onto her new schedule. He didn't trust Aang, not at first. No one could be that happy.

“—and gentlemen, in the event that you have not been in an automobile since 1942, we’re gonna show you how to fasten a seatbelt, so watch closely—”

Sokka, while a phenomenal flight attendant, was walking a razor’s edge onto Katara’s last nerve.

But Aang and her brother got along famously.

Katara should have expected nothing less.

This was Aang she was talking about.

Her boyfriend could befriend the devil himself.

The thought made Katara’s world get fuzzy and black-splotchy again. Luckily, Aang was laughing too hard with Sokka to notice her holding tight to the wall.

Breathing.

Breathing was a thing she had to do.

Aang’s vapor-trail-laugh gave her the cardinal directions and guided her towards which way was up. His arm curled around her waist like the seatbelts that had kept them anchored when they hit turbulence two months ago and dropped 400 feet.

Katara didn’t notice when next she blushed so hard that her vision went black-splotchy again.

But Aang, without pausing his conversation, was already tugging her closer so she all but pressed right against his heart.

His laugh died out. His chest slowly expanded.

Breathing.

Katara smiled.

Breathing was a thing she still had to do.

...

When Katara finally got her wings, Aang couldn’t have been more proud.

Sokka puffed his chest. “This is Katara, my flying sister.”

“Sokka, please…”

“Yeah, Sokka.” Aang was a grinning shadow touching her shoulder and a reminder to smile brushing her side. “Katara isn’t your ‘flying sister’.”

“Thank you, Aang—”

Aang hugged her from behind and held her so tightly that he curled over and started to eclipse her. “Katara is my flying girlfriend~”

Aang rubbed his cheek to hers. Katara grumbled and fought fate to keep angry as long as she could. “You both are insufferable.” She kissed Aang’s cheek like she was swatting a mosquito, but it only made him giggle and hold her tighter.

Sokka pretended to gag and uttered ‘Oogies’ like a mantra.

Katara blushed, lost her slippery grip on the smile fighting to make itself seen, and looked at her father just as the shutter on Hakoda’s camera went off.

...Aang carried the photo on his person like it was a medical device so vital that he would die if he was ever without it.

“Do you have to keep it there?” Katara pulled one switch and then two, and she side-eyed her smirking First Officer.

Aang ignored her and adjusted the photo pinned to the gauges in front of him. His smile got a little bigger, his eyes a little softer. He looked down at the clouds below them and then up at the heavens beyond. “...The stars sure are beautiful, tonight.”

His hand found hers—they were at an altitude that required little more than autopilot, but it was still breaking regulation.

Katara gently squeezed his fingers. “Yeah. They are.”

...

All of their nights melted into a routine that felt like the same night played over and over.

Katara wouldn’t have had it any other way.

She didn’t mind when Aang put up a fuss just because he could and because he liked to get her flustered. She didn’t even mind when he cocooned himself in the blankets and pouted in a silent demand for five more minutes.

He was only playing. He could be plenty serious if he wanted.

Like the time he crabbed the plane onto an icy runway in an emergency landing. Or like the time he dove into the belly of the plane to give CPR to an elderly passenger.

His seriousness could only go so far, though. He truly was a child at heart. There was nothing wrong with that, of course. Something forever young could never grow brittle and die.

Like the way he blushed every time she reached for his hand. Or like the little hitch to his voice that took over his words whenever she hugged him.

He could hardly speak when he asked her to marry him.

Katara wasn’t that much better off, but neither of them had needed words for the longest time. They sat side-by-side in the nose of the plane and ‘spoke’ in the silence for hours on end.

Kisses were quiet, anyways.

Well, not entirely.

Aang laughed, absolutely giddy, every time, no matter how much or how often they did.

Katara’s laugh drifted in his vapor trail as a gentle hum that made his smile impossibly bigger.

Then, and only then, did it feel like she had finally gotten back what he had stolen—all those years ago—from her.

...

His voice was a song, and his love bled into every worded lyric. They were the warm purrs of an engine that would never fail, and they made Katara’s stomach fall and bounce heaven-ward like her wheels had just left the ground.

When she danced with him, every step felt like lift-off. Every turn gave her g-forces that had her sinking into him to keep from being blown away.

The wedding was over, their guests were gone, but every star and galaxy crowded the sky to witness their love for each other.

This was her captain and co-pilot—her husband and best friend for life.

His name was Aang. He was very tall and quite proud of it, though he made himself eye-level with every person he met.

He was a simple monk and a dirty thief.

But Katara finally had back what was hers.

What was hers was named Aang.

He was the kindest soul she’d ever met.

He kept her grounded even though her feet never touched the earth when she was with him.

He was the part of her that she loved most.

His kisses were g-forces.

His ‘I love you’s were free-falling.

His hugs were the wings that handed her the sky.

His smiles were the spirit that held her aloft.

His name was Aang.

He was hers.

He was the kindest soul she’d ever met.

And Katara would remind him of how much she loved him even long after they were both tied to the earth.

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

If you spotted that reference to Tao philosophy, I give you a cookie🍪☺️

#kataang #Aang #Katara #avatar the last airbender #atla #modern!au #pilot!au #Sokka #captain!aang #cocaptain!katara #kataang wedding #first dates #Aang is a ~little shit~#littleshit!Aang #friends to lovers❤️#this made me smile thank you for the prompt anon☺️#fic request #myfanfictiontag #post

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dc41896 · 4 years

Text

Light

Pairing: Andy BarberxBlack Reader

⚠️: Small bit of angst, mention of divorce, slight sexual content(its very quick), fluff throughout!

This wasn’t exactly how you planned your night out going. What started out as you arriving at a quiet lounge looking to unwind from a stressful week turned into you joining a new handsome acquaintance back at his apartment stumbling through the door as you both fumbled with the others clothes.

“Sorry,” you’d each lightly chuckle after getting stuck on a button or trying to pull down stubborn jeans.

“This um isn’t really something I normally do,” you admit shyly as your back touches the mattress, heart pounding in your chest.

“Honestly I don’t either, so trust me I get it,” Andy smiles out of breath, bare chest hovering a mere inches above your body. “We can stop though if you want.”

“No, I want to! I mean like I want to continue not to stop if that wasn’t clear. Also sorry that came out really eager. I’m excited but not like this is my first ever time you know and now I’m rambling and killing the mood I’m sorry.”

Chuckling, his thumb traces over your red tinted lips making you smile. “Don’t apologize, your rambling is cute.” Your hand caressing the back of his neck slowly brings your soft yet hungry lips together as your bodies follow close behind becoming tangled in each other as well as the sheets below.

Now here you were, sore yet comfortable being woken up by your vibrating phone across the room. Squinting your eyes trying to adjust to the foreign space around you, the bed feels more spacious than before as you turn to find Andy gone and his side of the bed neatly made.

“Right, I should probably get going,” you thought as your feet touched the carpet below carrying you to each garment you were previously wearing before reaching your phone with missed calls and texts.

Carla: Hey boss man needs you to come in asap

Carla: And it’s looking like you might want to come in uniform...

Y/N: Ugh, alright give me a couple hours

“Morning,” a deep voice speaks slightly startling you. “I uh wasn’t sure if you might want coffee or tea so I made both.”

“Oh, thank you.” Small smile spread on your lips, you carefully take the coffee from his hand enjoying its freshly brewed smell and warmth. There’s a hint of awkwardness between the both of you as you slowly rock back and forth on the balls of your feet, while Andy peers down in his mug tapping his thumb against the rim.

Maybe that’s why you both never did this before. To avoid situations like this wondering how the other was feeling and what was the right next move.

“This um tastes really good.”

“Thanks, it was actually a gift from a friend. I’m getting low so I should probably ask where she got it from,” he chuckles to himself.

And so returned the awkward silence as you both stood sipping from your cups with cars speeding by outside.

“Cmon Y/N this doesn’t have to be difficult. You’re both adults who are highly capable of talking about their feelings,” you thought setting down your coffee on the dresser next to you. “Just spit it out and get it over with.”

“So-,” you both speak at the same time giving you two a much needed laugh.

“You go ahead.”

“No no you go. Mine can wait,” you smile waving your hand for him to continue.

“I was just gonna say that I’m...I’m leaving soon so um if you need a ride anywhere I can drive you so, you know, you don’t have to pay for one.”

Luckily you had a good poker face to hide your embarrassment and the sinking feeling in your gut from his words. Of course you’d be the one wanting for it to grow into more and break what’s possibly known as the cardinal rule of one night stands. Arms crossed over your chest, you busy yourself trying to find your shoes avoiding his eyes.

“Um yea! Thank you, I was actually gonna ask the same thing so it’s um funny you said that.”

“Oh, looks like we were on the same page then,” you both chuckle.

“Ehh I’m not so sure about that,” you thought as he bent down before handing you your other shoe. Lips slightly parted, it seemed as if he had more to say when you finally met his bright, blue eyes. You hated to admit it, but you honestly hoped he had more to say; specifically about your situation.

However, yet again you were disappointed watching him clear his throat nervously scratching the back of his neck as he picked up your nearly empty mug. “We can leave after I take care of these.”

“I can do that if you want?”

“No no I got it. Don’t worry,” he smiles walking towards his kitchen leaving you to gather the last of your things.

“Trust me, that’s the last thing on my mind,” you quietly speak to yourself before joining him in the center of the apartment.

———

Sneakers squeaking against the shiny hospital floors, you hurriedly make your way to your next patient’s room hoping they were much more pleasant than your last. Long story short, they weren’t a fan of having a new physical therapist.

You weren’t entirely mad though, you understood how frustrating it could be to get used to one person then have to change to someone entirely new. Heck you felt a bit overwhelmed yourself once you learned you’d been given a new schedule and entirely new set of people you’d have to care for.

Lightly knocking on the thick glass shielded by a curtain you quietly enter the bright room once hearing a soft “come in.”

“Hi, I’m Y/N and I’ll be Jacob’s physical therapist while he’s here,” you warmly greet extending your hand to the woman in front of you. Long dark hair framing her slender face, you could see the pain through the brave image she upheld.

“Hi I’m Laurie, Jacob’s mother. Me saying this is nothing against you, but I was expecting his usual therapist, Zoe.”

“It’s okay I understand. Zoe had to have a change of schedule due to personal reasons so I’m taking over for her patients.” Lightly nodding her head, the door sliding open steals both of your attention as the last person you’d expect to see entered the room.

Clearly he felt the same way stopping in his tracks once meeting your familiar brown eyes.

“Um hi...”

“Hi Mr. Barber I’m Y/N, Jacob’s new physical therapist,” you smile once again holding out your hand. Were you currently wishing you could run away, crawl in a hole, and scream to your hearts content? Yes, but at the end of the day you still had a job to do and you wouldn’t let an awkward interaction get in the way of that.

“Nice to meet you,” he smiles back similarly maintaining his professionalism while shaking your hand. “And you can call me Andy.”

“It’s nice to meet you too Andy.”

Feeling his lingering touch as your hands part instantly bring you back to last night making you flustered and what seemed like a wave of heat run across your body. Clearing your throat, you mentally collect yourself before standing next to the beeping machines monitoring Jacob’s vitals.

“So just like Zoe was doing, I’ll basically come to make sure his arms and legs get movement and try to limit any further muscle deterioration.”

“And will this only be once a day like before?,” Laurie asks from the other side of the bed smoothing Jacob’s hair down.

“That’s what he was scheduled for, but I can make a note for it to be increased to twice if you’d like? And before I leave for the day I can try to come back to work with him.”

“Thank you. If you’re too busy though you don’t have to-,”

“No it’s fine! If I can’t get to him, I’ll try to send someone to see him.”

Putting on your gloves, you begin gently extending and flexing his arm before eventually moving to his hand and fingers as you continue your conversation with Laurie. At times Andy would join in asking his own questions about his son’s recovery, but mostly just stood by the window gazing out at the rest of the city. He’d try to steal glances here and there taking note of little things like how the lone strand of hair that didn’t make it in your bun dangled ever so perfectly down your soft cheek.

Then there was your plump lips. How you’d innocently bite them when intently listening to Laurie go on about a new study she read about coma patients and treatments. How he could still feel them against his own from last night and how warm they were. How part of him wished you’d come back so he could feel them again.

Being so wrapped in his thoughts, he didn’t realize how his admiring caught your attention making you quickly glance in his direction before returning your attention to Laurie.

Once finished with his other leg, you removed your gloves making notes on the paper attached to your clipboard.

“How is he?,” Andy asks arms crossed over his chest.

“He’s good. No sign of muscle stiffness or rigidity. He actually still has a bit of strength intact, which will definitely be good for starting the more rigorous therapy if he wakes up.”

“Oh ok good,” he nods. “Thank you.”

“It’s part of my job, I feel like you don’t really need to thank me.”

“Nonsense. You’re taking time out to help our son which we greatly appreciate,” Laurie adds with a soft smile from the leather recliner next to the hospital bed.

“Well you’re welcome,” you smile collecting your things to leave. “I’ll try to come back after my last patient to work on him again. It was nice meeting you both.” Giving a small wave as you leave the room, Andy sits at the edge of the bed looking at his sleeping son.

“She was nice.”

“Hm? Oh yea, she was,” Andy quietly speaks grazing a thumb over the back of Jacob’s hand.

“Cute too.”

At this Andy just shakes his head lowly chuckling to himself before turning to look at his amused ex wife.

“So where’d you guys meet?”

“What makes you think I know her?”

“A bit of woman’s intuition. Also the fact that you looked like you saw a ghost when you walked in helped further prove that point,” she laughs.

“It was last night at the lounge downtown. We were both at the bar alone so we started talking.”

“Must’ve been some conversation. I haven’t seen that look in your eyes in a while.”

“Y-Yea, you could say that,” he shyly admits nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“Did you ask her out?”

“Laurie...”

“If you don’t want to talk about it I understand and won’t pry, but Andy if you’re holding back because of me, the divorce, or Jacob don’t. We had our time and it was great, now don’t be afraid to create more great times with someone else. Plus I know Jake would want to see you happy.”

Looking down at his hands with a sigh, he knew Laurie was right. He really did want to get to know you more, but what if you didn’t feel the same? Especially now knowing a portion of the baggage he was carrying.

“I don’t know...I mean I want to but it’s not just me she’d be adding to her life you know.”

“I get it, but you won’t know how she feels about that until you ask her,” she replies carefully standing up from her seat. “I’m going to the cafeteria, want me to get anything for you?”

“No I’m fine. You want me to go instead? You really need to rest your leg.”

“My leg is fine Andy, plus I still need to walk on it to help it heal. Oh, you can do me one favor though,” she adds stopping in front of the door.

“What’s that?”

“If Y/N happens to come back while I’m gone, talk with her.”

Closing the door behind her, Andy was left with his racing thoughts on what he’d say the next time he saw you.

Or better yet all the possible ways you could say no. Wait, was this even allowed? Given, he wasn’t your direct patient, but still he didn’t want you to get in trouble or possibly lose your job. “This is probably a bad idea,” he spoke to himself with hands covering his face.

The sound of someone clearing their throat makes him quickly sit up to see your nervous smile as you close the door behind you. “I uh just finished with another patient down the hall when the nurse asked me to bring these extra washcloths while she finishes up. She should be here in the next few minutes to clean him up.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“No problem.” Placing the white cloths on the nearby table, you turn to leave with hand gripping the cold, metal handle before being stopped by Andy calling your name. He looked flustered as his hands rested on his hips and his eyes shifted from you to the floor below.

“...We need to talk.”

Taglist: @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @literaturefeen @damnitaa @curlyhairclub @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @secretmysteriousperson @plokyu23

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#andy barber #defending jacob #andy x reader #andyxwoc #andyxblackreader #chrisxwoc #chrisxblackreader #chrisxreader #chris evans

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solalunar-eclipse · 3 years

Text

Team Dark: A Holiday Special

Chapter Two: Shadow

One | Three

Word count: about 6500 words

No warnings, just more angst than last time because Shadow.

Author’s Note: Thank you all so much for the great comments you left on chapter one- it’s really what keeps me writing and posting.

In other news, I believe that Hanukkah started yesterday evening, so to anyone who celebrates that holiday, Happy Hanukkah!

...

It was the dawn of a bright new day, and Shadow stirred as the sun rose, feeling oddly content. His bed was warm, and he was comfortable, and he really didn’t want to get up just yet. Fumbling around on the bedside table for his book, he began to feel even better at the thought of hiding under the covers for another hour or two, curled up reading…

Except his book wasn’t there. He made several quiet irritated noises, before forcing himself to sit upright.

Chaos, he was not a morning person.

This was incredibly frustrating, of course, since he only needed about five hours of sleep a night and tended to wake up early. Coffee beans usually helped with that, though, and some hot water.

His thoughts now focused on coffee, Shadow dragged himself slowly out of bed, shuddering as the cold air hit his fur. He searched through the clothes he’d brought and pulled out a warm, soft sweater, sighing with relief as he put it on. It was his favorite, too, since it matched his stripes nicely.

Sliding on a pair of slippers (plaid, fluffy, chosen by Rouge) he padded downstairs silently, eyes scanning the area for his book- and caffeine. He wandered through the main hall, enjoying the view that the large windows provided of the snowy landscape. Still, he wished they’d turn the heating up a little, shuddering as he wrapped his arms around himself tightly.

As he walked into the kitchen, still half-lost in a morning haze, Shadow was fully awakened by the shock of seeing other people up. More specifically, Rouge’s mother and stepmother were cooking. Already. He clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from shouting, and his quills bristled in surprise.

His friend’s mother startled and dropped the flour she was carrying, while her stepmother yelped and fumbled with the frying pan on the stove. Shadow rushed over and caught the dropped bag before it could explode, his nerves feeling slightly shot from having to deal with so much this early on.

“My bad,” he whispered, placing the flour on the island in the middle of the kitchen. “I didn’t know anyone else was awake yet- sorry.” he finished lamely. The hedgehog began to feel slightly uncomfortable, as both of the other occupants of the kitchen were looking directly at him. Until now, he’d managed to avoid everyone’s notice pretty well at this party, fading quietly into the background after that first introduction.

He was not prepared to socialize, especially not this early.

Camellia just smiled at him, though, and said kindly, “It’s perfectly alright, honey, we didn’t realize anyone else could stand to get up so early either!”

Rouge’s mother rolled her eyes good-naturedly at Shadow as she walked past him. “You say that like I like mornings, Cam.” she quipped.

He felt awkward just standing in the middle of the room- especially having interrupted their formerly-private moment- so he took a couple of steps to the side quietly. “I’ll just be out of your way now…”

“Oh no, don’t worry about it at all!” the bat exclaimed. “Were you looking for something, sugar?”

Having two terms of endearment directed his way in as many minutes stressed (and slightly flustered) Shadow, and he found himself beginning to retreat into his usual cold persona. The hybrid muttered, “I was just looking for my book. If you happened to know where the coffee is, that would help. That’s all.”

The cardinal handed him a bag of coffee beans, still smiling warmly. “And I think your book’s over there, honey.”

Shadow took his book and turned to walk out of the room, nodding a quiet ‘thank you’ as he did so.

However...the second he set a foot outside the kitchen doorway, he froze. Looking back over his shoulder, he asked, “...how much more do you have to do?”

It would be downright rude to leave his hosts doing all the work, wouldn’t it?

...and why did that sentence sound like someone else had said it?

“Oh! Well, we have the eggs, and the waffles, and the…” the bat began to rattle off a long list of the different things they had to make. “But don’t worry about us, dear, you have your book to read!”

He wavered a moment longer in the doorway, before reluctantly putting the book down. Walking back to stand in front of them, he sighed. “Where are the aprons, then?” he asked flatly.

“Are you sure, honey?” Camellia asked. “You really needn’t trouble yourself…”

Shadow raised a brow ever so slightly. “I’m sure.”

“Oh, aren’t you sweet!” Rouge’s mother gasped. “We usually get help a little later on, but if you really want to…”

“I have a little experience with cooking, but not much.” he warned, taking the apron she offered him and putting it on. (This was true. He only knew how to make waffles and French toast, and that was just because Rouge decided she would go without breakfast if she had to cook.)

The cheerful cardinal pulled him over to the counter, making Shadow startle slightly. “Have you ever made hash browns before, honey? Those shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“No…?” he said, a little confused. “I...I’ve never had those before. What are they?”

“What?” Lila cried out, on the other side of the room. “What has Rouge been feeding you? Well, it’s about time you learned then.” She moved over to stand next to Shadow, handing him a bag of potatoes.

The hedgehog just stared at the vegetables, his mind going blank.

He needed to have his coffee before he dealt with this. Now.

…

Two hours and several handfuls of coffee beans later, Shadow could say that he absolutely knew what hash browns were, having produced enough of them to feed an army. He had also made veritable mountains of scrambled eggs and stacks of pancakes, all while asking ‘Are you sure we need this many?’. He’d thought that the dinner spread was incredible last night, but seeing everything as it was being made only served to emphasize just how much food everyone here needed.

A few other family members had shown up near the end to help out Rouge’s parents, but the real flow of people was only just beginning. Young children were now rushing down the stairs, lured by the smell of breakfast. A few adults began to come down as well, along with Rouge and Omega.

The younger bat looked a little surprised to see Shadow in the kitchen, and he internally cringed as he realized just how bad he must look right now. His quills were tied back in a sloppy ponytail and the apron he’d been given was more than a little long on him. It wasn’t long enough to conceal his slippers, though, and his sweater was rolled up past his elbows, while his arms were covered in flour, sugar, and even a little bit of oil.

“Aww, hon! You’ve been helping!” she said, batting her eyelashes in a blatantly over-the-top manner. She was clearly fighting the urge to laugh at his appearance.

Shadow rolled his eyes. “Don’t rub it in.”

Rouge’s mother bustled up at that, smiling warmly at him. Shadow became significantly more uncomfortable- he was used to having glowers and wide-eyed stares directed at him, not...that.

“He just walked over and demanded an apron, then he got right to work!” she said cheerfully. “He’s really quite helpful, honestly!”

Omega looked at the older bat. “Shadow does not like to admit that he’s helping, even when he is very clearly doing so. His pride is too great to ever admit that he’d do such a thing.”

The hybrid scowled. “That is not true.”

Rouge giggled. “Oh, it’s not, hm? Then what about the time you finished-”

“-don’t you dare-”

“-cleaning my room when I-”

“-now you know how it feels, Shadow-”

“-shut up-”

“-took a quick break, or the time when-”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Shadow roared, leaping at her. Rouge’s mother seemed quite startled at this, but Rouge started cackling just like last night, and Omega looked incredibly smug (somehow), watching as she dodged his attack.

“Just look a little sad, Mom, and maybe tell him you’d be ‘ever so grateful’ and he’ll drop everything to do iiiaaaAAAAH!!”

Shadow had managed to catch Rouge and pin her down on the couch. “Take it back.”

“Never.” she said, smiling sweetly at him.

The hybrid prepared himself to inflict some sort of punishment (messing up her makeup, perhaps, or tickling) when he was hoisted bodily and flung over a very square and very metallic shoulder.

“Umph.” he wheezed in a very undignified manner as Omega hauled him out of the room.

The robot looked very pleased with himself. “Ah yes. Revenge is truly sweet.”

...

“Alright, guys!” Rouge announced after breakfast. “It’s perfect weather out, so you know what we’re gonna do? We are going sledding.”

Shadow- who had been cleaning up and lost in thought- nearly hit the ceiling. “Wait, what?”

“Don’t worry, hon, we’ll get you all wrapped up first.” Rouge said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.

The hybrid’s body immediately sagged in poorly disguised relief.

Five minutes later, Shadow wore three layers of shirts, a coat, sweatpants, snow boots, thick gloves, a hat, and a scarf. “I look like an idiot.” he growled.

“Would you prefer to be cold?” Omega asked him dryly.

Shadow shuddered at the very thought. Pulling his clothes a little tighter, he was suddenly launched back into the past, a very particular memory running through his mind.

“You ready for lessons today, Shadow?” a young, blond-haired girl asked.

Maria.

Shadow, at the perky young age of two and two-thirds (eight mentally), leaned on the edge of her bed, smiling. “Always!”

Professor Gerald entered shortly with their lesson for the day- exponentials for Maria and multiplying fractions for Shadow- and began to teach.

As Shadow worked on his problems later, the professor’s voice going on in the background as he spoke to his granddaughter, he began to notice his fingers trembling. Weird.

The longer he worked, the more it spread, until his fur was bristling and his whole body shook occasionally. But he was the Ultimate Lifeform! He was made to be tough!

So he kept on going.

Eventually, his breath began to come short and his teeth clicked together. He accidentally dropped his pencil, his fingers trembling too much to hold it.

Maria noticed.

“Shadow, are you alright?” she asked. “Come here for a second…”

He walked over, trying to keep his legs from shaking and failing miserably. She reached out to touch his arm, but gasped as soon as she felt his fur.

“Maria!” he cried out, worried. “Maria, what’s wrong?”

“You’re freezing, Shadow! Come here…”

She pulled him onto the bed next to her, the warm quilt on it keeping her from struggling as Shadow had.

He let out an involuntary sigh as warmth began to flood his body, melting away the shudders and allowing his breathing to return to normal.

“Strange…” the professor had said, after getting Shadow a warm jacket to wear. “This was unexpected- I didn’t think it was so cold! I know the temperature on the space station is meant to simulate wintertime inside on Earth, but it’s only an indoor climate.” He’d later discovered that Shadow’s DNA predisposed him to get cold easily.

Or as Rouge put it: “You’re half lizard, hon. I’m honestly surprised you don’t spend all day lying on hot rocks when it’s cold.”

That event had led to a lifelong hatred of Space Colony ARK’s air conditioning (and several heated glares at the ventilation system for Maria’s benefit).

And then…

Shadow remembered what it felt like to have ice cover his body. When he’d woken up from his frozen sleep, he’d been filled with a chill he just couldn’t shake.

He’d been able to ignore it in his quest for revenge, but from then until he finally went Super, he had struggled to become warm, even in the tropical heat of the jungle. A cold sensation had settled in his very bones.

But now, he no longer felt frozen inside, and the cold was just an irritation, albeit a slightly more emotionally charged one.

Wasn’t everything.

Rouge and Omega had both been incredibly understanding, though. The bat had never made him go outside when it was cold, and she often dumped armfuls of blankets on him at random moments. (He appreciated it more than he let on.) The E-series robot was more subtle in his support, doing things like handing Shadow an extra scarf before he left their house or silently placing a mug of hot chocolate next to him when he shivered.

And now, they were standing in front of him, having packed all of these clothes for his benefit.

Somehow, Shadow couldn’t find it in himself to complain.

“No,” he sighed, “I suppose I don’t.”

“Alright, guys, let’s go!” Rouge practically dragged them out the door, pushing Shadow up onto Omega’s shoulders and then flying up to grab his hands once they were outside.

“I will never comprehend how such a small being has the power to lift both myself and Shadow.” Omega commented as they took off.

“Lots of practice- hff- and weight training- hh- does the trick.” Rouge gasped, evidently straining to keep them in the air. “I’m- ngh- out of practice.”

“It’s fine, Rouge.” Shadow said, his voice muffled by the scarf. “Take your time.”

Eventually, they made it to a giant hill with an incredibly steep slope. As they trudged up to the top, the (relatively) small hedgehog began to notice just how very angled and high the incline was...

Shadow regretted everything.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Rouge?” he asked, watching as Omega lay down on what would have been his chest to be the actual sled.

“Of course, hon! It’s going to be great!”

“Uh…” the hedgehog muttered nervously, even as he allowed Rouge to pull him onto the robot’s back. “I…”

“Alright let’s go.” Omega said quickly, firing his rocket boosters.

Rouge whooped and Shadow (to his eternal shame) screamed as they blasted down the hill at top speed, flying across a patch of ice at the bottom and skidding to a stop several yards away. Panting heavily from his adrenaline rush, Shadow fought to get his thoughts in order. “That...that was….”

“Awesome!” Rouge shouted. “We’re doing that again!”

“...alright?” Shadow agreed. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice, but it was a little fun.

The next time, Rouge tried lying down and yelled the whole way- not being able to see where you were going made things a lot more scary. Omega tried carrying them up to the top of the hill as well, completely eliminating the usual grind of dragging a sled up the slope that came with this activity. Shadow got into it eventually, clearly enjoying himself despite the fact that he never quite yelled like Rouge as they careened wildly downhill.

Eventually, Rouge convinced Shadow to try lying down as well. “Don’t worry, hon, I’ll hang onto you and make sure nothing bad happens.” she reassured him.

“Okay...okay. Just make sure you hold on tight.” Shadow groaned, clinging to Omega with enough force to strain his fingers.

They blasted off down the hill and Shadow shouted in surprise- this was so much more intense! He felt every bump and jolt all the way down, but it was all fun.

Until Rouge yelled, “Omega! Tree!!”

Shadow gasped, startled. There was a tree and it was coming up-!

Omega fired his left booster, spinning them far away from the tree. Unfortunately, that meant spinning literally, as he’d majorly overcompensated for the potential collision. Whirling around in a circle, both Shadow and Rouge were thrown off. The bat managed to catch herself mid-air with her wings, but the shaken hedgehog wasn’t quite as lucky.

Shadow’s vision went completely white. For a moment, he feared he’d hit his head- but it was only snow. He sighed in relief.

That feeling didn’t last long, though, as he felt the cold begin to seep in from all sides. Panic wormed its way into his chest- and then when he tried to move, he could only push helplessly against the lightly packed material.

Calm down. It’s only snow. Rouge and Omega will be here any minute now.

He took a deep breath.

And another.

And then Omega was there, clasping his hand to pull him out of the snow, and Rouge was sitting on his shoulder, looking worried but pleased to see him alright.

“I’m so sorry, hon, I didn’t mean for that to happen…” she said sympathetically.

“Neither did I.” Omega added, and Shadow noticed that the robot wasn’t quite looking him in the eye.

The cold was quickly banished with yet another reminder of just how much his friends cared. “It’s fine. I just…” He looked away, a little embarrassed. “I did what the therapist told me to do and just breathed, and waited for you.”

“Awww, that’s good, hon! Tolja therapy’d help somehow.” Rouge smirked at him, but it was all warmth and kindness underneath.

Shadow shuffled awkwardly in the snow. “It seems that way...I’ve decided to keep going with it, after all.”

“Excellent.” Omega said, and Shadow felt even better. “Now we should get back. Shadow appears to require the immediate application of blankets and hot cocoa.”

The snowy, slushy hedgehog was not in the mood to protest, and simply said, “Yes. Now.”

...

Two pairs of red eyes narrowed in a face-off. It had taken their owners over an hour to get to this point- the final competition. The winner of this match would be crowned champion.

About half of Rouge’s family watched, holding their breath as Shadow opened his mouth to speak.

“E-4.”

“Miss.”

“Dammit!”

Shadow didn’t care one bit who might hear him swear right now, his teeth gritted and mind racing a mile a minute. He was supposed to be good at tactics and strategy, yet here he was losing at Warboat. Badly.

Three of his ships, covered in red markers, lay slain off to one side. Meanwhile, Omega had only lost one and a half of his. Accursed computer processors.

The hedgehog was certain that Omega would have a gigantic grin on his face, if it were possible for him to produce one. As it was, he stared constantly at Shadow, even as he moved his markers around.

“C-6.”

Shadow felt relief flood his very soul. “Miss.”

It didn’t take long for Shadow’s fourth ship to get knocked out, even as he still searched for Omega’s third. He was getting trounced, and he knew it. Yet still, somehow, he had a shred of hope.

But then, two rounds later, he snarled furiously when Omega switched his LED eyes from full circles to half-moons- an evident hint at a smile.

“H-2.”

Shadow’s stomach dropped. “No!”

“Yes.” the robot said proudly, before planting a red marker on his board.

The hedgehog began to search frantically for Omega’s ship, his moves becoming increasingly random and less thought-out as imminent destruction closed in.

Finally, something happened. “A-1.”, he muttered, resigned to his painful end.

“...hit.”

“Yessss.” Shadow hissed, somehow feeling triumph despite his imminent defeat.

“Yay.” Rouge remarked dryly from the spectating area. “Consolation prize.”

“Shut uuup.” he whined petulantly, before realizing how very relaxed his demeanor had become. Straightening his back and smoothing down his quills, he allowed that familiar blank expression to settle back into place. “No distracting the players, please.” he added coolly.

Was it him, or was that a flash of...disappointment he caught from her?

Anyhow, he lost on the very next turn. Grumbling quietly, he went to sit down on a couch as Omega partied loudly with all of the children, blasting up-tempo dance music from his speakers.

It was one of the children (such sweet little kids, some of them were) who suggested that they make trophies. Pulling out cardboard and paper to draw on, they quickly made little certificates and gold, silver and bronze medals. One parent found some ribbon to thread through a punched-out hole, and then the little ones all scrambled to set up a proper ceremony “like on TV”.

As Shadow bent down to receive his handmade medal and crayon certificate, he knew without a doubt that this was being saved. For good.

…

Later, Shadow was relaxing in his bedroom when Rouge’s mother walked in, Omega following behind her.

“Oh, good, I’ve found you!” she said, her voice bright as always, but...off, this time. “Would you mind coming with me for a minute?”

As Shadow followed her out of the room, exchanging bewildered looks with Omega, he realized what the strange tone was.

Her voice was brittle. Fragile. As though it might break if one of them spoke wrong.

They entered a different room, one high up and far away from the rest of the party. Rouge’s mother stood in front of them for a moment, pulling at her sweater before deciding to sit down. She looked at her gloves for a moment, clearly thinking…

And then promptly burst into tears.

The two were incredibly startled at this, and despite both being relatively...emotionally inexperienced, they gathered around her to try and help.

“Uh...I...is something wrong?” Shadow asked, immediately kicking himself mentally. Of course something’s wrong, people don’t cry if everything’s perfectly fine!

Omega, thankfully, got straight to the point. “What is it?”

“It’s...no, no, it was...Rouge.” the bat said, her voice sounding choked.

“Rouge?!” Shadow’s quills bristled. “What happened?”

“She...when Rouge came back. From her two years, you know, away-”

Shadow and Omega did know, now.

“-she came to the party two years ago, and she was different. She was cold, and distant, didn’t talk, and only laughed a- at people, not with them.”

Rouge? Cold and distant?!

“She wouldn’t talk to anybody about her life- the only reason I even knew she worked for G.U.N. was the logo on the paychecks she sent. When she stopped sending those, after I told her the news about Camellia- she took that well enough, but after that...I heard nothing. Nothing, for almost ten months.”

Omega’s eyes were wide, and Shadow was sure his own were as well.

“A-and then one day, she called me up. Her voice was different. Warmer. Happier. She apologized for her silence, and said she’d been in a bad place. I blamed myself, and accepted her apology, of course. She had to grow up so young, do so much all by herself… and she paid the price for it...for a while.

“And then I happened to look at an old article a couple weeks later, and I realized why she was better- and I couldn’t believe I’d missed it. My baby girl, in the news! And of all the things...fighting a world-renowned supervillain alongside the likes of Sonic the Hedgehog!

“But that wasn’t why she was better. No, when I started searching the internet frantically and saw her perched on the shoulder of a massive black and red robot, laughing uproariously- when I finally worked up the courage to go to her social media pages and saw, not darkness and pain, but her with an arm slung tightly around a young striped hedgehog, flashing the biggest smile I’d seen in years, I knew.”

Shadow’s hands were jittery and he really wished his heart would stop beating so loudly.

“It was both of you. I never found out the specifics as to how she met you two- I hope she’ll tell me the story someday- but you saved her from all of it. She had coworkers, sure, some nicer than others, but you gave her friends, and ones who understood her position at that.

“And this year- getting into a snowball fight! Telling silly stories at the dinner table! She would never have done that last year, mark my words.”

Rouge’s mother was smiling broadly through her tears now, looking at both of them. She reached out and hugged Omega, tightly but quickly, and did the same for Shadow, leaving him dumbfounded. “Just- I-

“Thank you.”

Shadow sat there for a minute, unable to do anything other than keep a hand on her shoulder. Suddenly, though, he noticed some movement by the door, and spun around to see Rouge standing there, absolutely silent as mascara-filled tears streamed down her face. Her hand was clamped over her mouth, presumably to keep from making any noise.

“Rouge?” her mother asked, startled.

“Mooommmmm….” she whined, her own voice sounding tight- and then she rushed across the room and into her mother’s arms. “I love you, Mom.”

Shadow tried very hard to ignore the burning sensation just behind his eyes.

“You’re right. About, like, all of it.” Rouge said quietly, once she was finished crying with her mom. “Nothing here mattered to me when I was out there every day being, basically a soldier, y’know?”

She sighed, wiping more tears from the corners of her eyes, and stood up. “I think now’s a good time to say something that I’ve been thinking about for a while. Sorry if it isn’t perfect-” she laughed thickly- “I’m not exactly in the best state right now.”

Rouge’s mother smiled at her. “I’ll give you three some privacy, then.” she said gently, closing the door on her way out.

After she left, the younger bat resumed her impromptu speech. “Okay. Omega....chaos. Omega. Ohhh man.” She pointed at him. “That day? When you busted out of heckin’ nowhere and started blasting your machine guns like mad? O-one of the best days of my life. Wanna know why? I met you.”

Omega looked very fixedly at a point on the wall behind her.

“You literally carry me places. You crush our enemies with your epic missiles and fists of steel. You helped me prank Knuckles so bad he was checking everywhere for traps for the next week. You’re so fun and I just. You. Awesome. I can’t explain it properly right now but hopefully I’ll get to do a lot more of that later. You’re the best ever.”

“I…” Omega sounded like he was at a loss for words. “I am...honestly extremely flattered by this statement. I will continue to carry you places and destroy all who oppose us.”

“Awesome.” Rouge grinned.

“Aaaand Shadow.” She wheeled to face him, and the hedgehog in question attempted to mentally prepare himself and failed horribly. “You. You are so cool there are no words to describe it. And I don’t mean because you own a motorbike or you dress in all black or any of that stuff.

“I mean because like half the people who’ve been important in your life so far have been trying to kick the ever-loving hell out of you...and yet you get up each and every single time they do it and win. Honestly...I’m proud to know you, Shadow. And I hope you know that if you need me, for anything ever, know that I will give up the Master Emerald in a hot second to help.

“So yeah. And you’re the first guy I’ve ever met who’s actually willing to talk makeup- let alone likes it. The one who tries all the new restaurants with me. And the only person I will ever know who can somehow handle going to the mall with me more than once in a week.” Rouge finished with a smirk. “I guess you really are Ultimate.”

Everyone in the room who had tear ducts was currently using them. A lot.

Shadow sniffed furiously and wiped tears from his eyes. “Th- thank you…” He cursed internally as his voice betrayed him.

“Oh yeah, get ready for more.” Rouge warned him. “There’s more.”

The hybrid’s throat tightened in response.

“You know how I said, before we came here, that you guys meant as much to me as my real family?”

“Yes?” Omega asked, his voice sounding a little quieter than usual.

“To heck with that. You guys don’t have to, like, change anything because of this, but you are my family. You’re both my real family. As real as Mom is.” Rouge said, her words shaky yet determined.

Shadow felt as though he’d just been struck by a bolt of lightning. Dazed, he swayed slightly, clinging to the edge of his seat.

Family?

Is...is Rouge...is Omega….

He began to hyperventilate just thinking about it, just considering that after all he’d been through, after everything he’d lived through- at the end of it all, waiting for him, right now, was a--

“Shadow. Shadow, hold your breath.” Omega reminded him, and he shut his mouth and clasped his hands tightly for a minute.

A family? My family?!

“I- yes. Please. Yes. Family sounds good.” Shadow managed to stammer.

“Well, then!” Rouge said, looking pleased. “Now I get to assume the official Big Sister duties of kicking anyone who dares look at you wrong and buying you food.”

Shadow blushed a little. “Rouge. I don’t need protecting like that...”

“I know, but since when’s that going to stop me?” she asked. “And don’t start complaining- being the baby brother’s the good life, from what I’ve heard.”

A fresh wave of tears poured down his face at the words ‘baby brother’.

Of course, that was when Omega decided to go completely off the rails. “Am I the middle sibling or the youngest?”

Shadow and Rouge stared at him for a second. Then they both started laughing wildly, the toll of the various emotional highs and lows hitting them all at once.

“M-middle one.” Rouge gasped out eventually. “Definitely, the attention-seeking middle sibling.”

Omega made angry eyes for a second, but reconsidered. “Fine. That...yes, that works.”

“Family group hug?” Rouge suggested, smiling warmly at them both.

Shadow nodded weakly. “F-family group hug.”

Omega picked them both up and held them tightly. “You both will always be my favorite organic beings.”

“Thanks, Omega.” Rouge said, squeezing them both a little tighter.

…

A couple of hours later, Shadow was pulled out of his room for the third time in two days, again by Rouge’s mother. “Sorry to bother you, honey, I just wondered...would you mind giving us a hand with dinner? You were such a great help with breakfast that Cami and I had hoped....”

Curse you, Rouge.

So now he was in the kitchen. Again.

Only things were very different this time. Now, there were about ten people in there, all rushing around in some complicated pattern and carrying hot, cold, cooked, uncooked, and various other kinds of dishes all over without running into each other.

Somehow.

Shadow, despite feeling very overwhelmed and (strangely) underqualified, took one step into the fray- and immediately jumped several feet straight back as he was nearly mowed down by one of Rouge’s auncles rushing past with some sort of casserole.

“Sorry, kiddo!” they yelled over their shoulder, handing off the dish to someone else before sprinting back across the kitchen. Seconds later, another relative vaulted over the island in the middle of the room to get to the sink as quickly as possible, while carrying a semi-full plate that he somehow managed to keep steady.

The hybrid suddenly remembered several battles and sparring matches that he’d participated in. This...actually looked a lot like those.

He locked eyes with Rouge’s stepmother. She didn’t have time to say anything to him, instead just tilting her head in one direction. Shadow’s eyes snapped to a frying pan left unattended and knew what he had to do.

He took a running start and launched himself clear over several people’s heads before sticking the landing right in front of the pan. Several people applauded, and one person- the vaulting relative from earlier- frowned, having been severely upstaged.

So it was a competition, then?

Shadow looked directly at him and smiled like a feral shark.

...

The wild food preparation/parkour show finished with several people throwing the food to each other across the room like in a musical (Shadow thanked his lucky stars that he’d caught his- it was made of glass), and he decided it only existed because Rouge’s family was extremely over-the-top.

Immediately following that, everyone gathered around for another large dinner, during which Shadow only ate a little. And after too many more embarrassing stories, everyone gathered into a room to watch one of those cheesy Wintersweek romance movies that always came out in droves at this time of year.

Shadow said that they were all incredibly cookie-cutter style stories, each one following the exact same plot. Rouge claimed they were uplifting, fun stories and that she didn’t care if they were all the same. Omega liked to categorize all of the things that were wrong with them, so he was willing to sit with Rouge as she watched them.

The hybrid had scoffed cynically and walked away, filling the kitchen sink with water in the next room over and making a big deal out of clattering the plates around that he planned to wash.

Romance movies were so overrated.

Shadow could still see the screen through the doorway (not that he wanted to), and despite his wishes, the movie kept distracting him. He couldn’t stop himself from looking up to see what was going on.

It appeared to be a classic enemies to lovers story, as currently the shy young woman with a rock band shirt- who also happened to be the main star (cliche alert)- was glowering furiously at the trendy, popular blonde movie star. Who was, of course, berating the main character for her poor customer service.

At a coffee shop.

Shadow sighed loudly.

And of course, just as he’d suspected (he wasn’t paying that much attention to the movie all these films were the same really) they both ended up competing. In a Wintersweek cooking competition.

The movie star was confident she would win. Her film crew was ever-present, taking all the best shots of her as she ‘worked’.

Obviously, the main character was determined to beat her through hard work and skill. She was fully prepared to show this star just who she was dealing with…

...and all that and so on. Shadow rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the soapy water.

And then (this movie was like every single other one!!) their partners both came down with an illness that wiped out several other competitors as well. So naturally they were forced to work together. And of course they worked well, too.

(Shadow had stopped working on the dishes by now. Somewhere around here, he’d forgotten to look away.)

By the time these two had begun to look past each other’s flaws and see the real person beneath them, his eyes were riveted to the screen. It was still bad, he told himself, even as he watched every move they made. It was still bad.

They were working together now, smiling slowly and talking quickly and sometimes, occasionally, laughing. The obligatory hands-touching-by- accident scene happened. The two looked into each other’s eyes.

Shadow couldn’t decide how he felt anymore. Confusing emotions swirled inside him.

The kiss scene. (He saw it coming a mile away.)

The awkwardness. (Just to build up the tension.)

Their lips meet. (And a little voice deep down inside Shadow whispers…

...that feels right.)

The hybrid didn’t move a muscle for the next several minutes of the movie, refusing to miss a moment.

The couple won the competition. Of course, he thought, some form of rational thought returning to him. That was to be expected.

As the movie ended on their celebratory kiss, Shadow began, strangely, to feel as though someone had just punched him in the chest. When the credits rolled, he left, walking away from the movie, trying to get rid of this strange sensation.

He heard the click of Rouge’s high heels follow a minute after. And then the stomp of Omega’s ironclad steps.

Folding his arms, he tried to project an I-don’t-care attitude. Unfortunately for him, Rouge and Omega could a) tell that he was projecting said attitude and b) figured out quickly what he was really thinking. Curses.

“Was it the movie?” Omega asked bluntly.

The only acknowledgment Shadow gave was a slight twitch of his shoulders up and down.

“Did you hate it?” Rouge questioned.

Again, just a twitch of the shoulders.

They both studied him for a second.

“No…” the bat whispered, her teal-shadowed eyes widening. “No, you liked it! You liked it!”

“I did not!” Shadow spat furiously, more venom than he’d intended finding its way into his voice.

“You did.” Omega said. It wasn’t a question.

“I mean…” he sighed, looking away. “Let’s not talk about it, okay?”

“Come on, Shadow…” Rouge said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“Please?” Omega asked.

The hybrid groaned. “I...it was just- it wasn’t good, are we clear? It was just sappy. But. If you insist. I suppose...romance...argh. I can’t say it!”

“It’s okay, hon, just be patient.” Rouge said soothingly.

“Ugh...I mean...I’ve never dated someone before. Is it...really that nice?” Shadow muttered. His eyes narrowed, daring them to taunt him.

Omega looked at him, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “You want to date someone?”

“Wh-no, not like that! I- I mean...not just anyone…” he sputtered.

“So you’ve got someone in mind, then?” Rouge smirked at him, raising a brow.

“No!” he snapped, his eyes wide. “I- just meant- promise me you’ll never set me up on a blind date, are we clear?”

“Promise.” she said. “And I’m not crossing my fingers, either.” The bat waved both of them in front of her to demonstrate.

“However, we will force you to converse with others at future social events.” Omega declared. “I have heard that this is the first step in a successful relationship.”

Shadow scowled, but without any real heat. “Don’t you dare.”

Rouge giggled. “No more sulking edgily in the corner for you, emo-hog!”

He groaned. “Are you both turning against me? Really?”

“Of course we are.” Omega remarked. “That is exactly what family is for.”

“I don’t know whether to feel flattered or irritated.” Shadow grumbled.

“Flattered. Definitely~.” Rouge quipped with a wink.

“Ugh. Well, I’m going to bed now. I’ve had enough of this nonsense.” he sighed, stalking out of the room.

“Aw, come on, Shadow!” the bat said teasingly. “Don’t you want to watch the sequel?”

The hybrid spun around so fast his quills nearly sliced up the doorway. “I’m sorry, the what now?”

“The sequel.” Omega repeated flatly. “You know you do.”

He hesitated.

“Fine.” Shadow growled through gritted teeth, his hands occasionally clenching into fists. “But only if I get to run commentary with Omega.”

“Sounds fair!” Rouge chirped, flying off with the other two right behind her.

As they walked away, Shadow in the back, he allowed himself a small, secret smile. They truly cared about him, and he knew they only wanted to see him happy. The teasing was all their way of showing affection. His eyes began to glimmer softly with a faint hint of happiness as fond thoughts and memories drifted through his mind. One sentence, though, stood out above all the rest.

I love my family.

#shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #e 123 omega #team dark: a holiday special #team dark #several other things i should probably mention:#please please please don't sled down a hill while lying down #you might crash into a tree #only do so if you are on top of a sentient robot that can steer for you #also i will give omega ALL of the cool upgrades #you can't stop me #and i do hope shadow's not too ooc #i tried my best (even looked up character analyses) but he's SO DIFFICULT to write well #hope you enjoyed!#there's one more part left now- we can't leave our favorite gem thief out!#sol's fanfiction

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dragalialore · 3 years

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yeah alright just gonna do ch 17 and the interludes in one go. fuck it

Let’s start with the main chapter. This is gonna be very stream-of-consciousness so bear with me.

To me, this chapter felt a little bit short and lacking, but I was expecting that, because it’s setting up the North Grastaea arc as well as the general atmosphere of Grams. We knew going in that the church was going to be a big deal, but now we know HOW much of a big deal--to the point that the papacy and monarchy are at odds with each other. Now let’s get into the nitty gritty.

Origa and Graht. Judging from the opening scene, Origa is an auspex like Zethia, or at least possesses similar power. She seems to have the apostles directly under her command and is crazy confident in her power. However, there’s a few things about her that stand out to me. Her outfit, and more specifically her headpiece, harken back to Empress Zethia’s design. She’s even got red eyes! I don’t think we’ve heard about the last of Morsayati; his story and influence are still going to be heavily intertwined in the campaign. Graht also mentions a Basel who from a lot of inferring from other characters I think is either the king of Grams or at least someone with a lot of authority.

Ranzal and Volk. It looks like we’re going to be getting these little mini-arcs for each of the main cast, huh? A bit formulaic, but I don’t mind. Ranzal’s development through this chapter is really fascinating and answers a lot of questions I’d been thinking about myself. It’s important to remember who Ranzal was before all this--he’s the Arc of the Storm, one of the best mercenaries around. He’s done a lot before this, and he’s gonna do a lot after this. He KNOWS he can be self-sufficient, so does he still have a right to work with Euden? The Agito seem to have a sixth sense for Halidom anxiety, and Volk shows up right on cue and digs his claws into Ranzal in a pretty subtle way--he calls Euden pathetic which, sure, the Agito have a thing for doing that. But he also calls out Euden’s decision in 14--his sister over the world. And we’ve SEEN the result of that decision--just look at Zena’s world, where everyone we know is dead. But here’s what Volk doesn’t understand, though: Ranzal isn’t disappointed in Euden. The guy loves his sister. That’s who he is. Family is a HUGELY important thing to him, and he just had all that ripped into pieces and set on fire before his eyes. And it takes a while, sure, but Ranzal arrives at his answer eventually--there’s a lot about the world that he doesn’t know, but sticking with Euden is the best way to learn more.

Chelle’s gatling gun. I have nothing fun to say about this. I’m just saying, Cygames, that if her eventual gala alt doesn’t have her wielding a gatling gun, I’m going to be very disappointed.

Sheila. This adorable mystery showed up at the very end. We know nothing about her except that she can’t speak and she’s a guide to the faerie kingdom. She doesn’t have wings like Meene or Notte; is she a wingless fairy, or a changeling child? Her style of dress is also VERY reminiscent of Sandalphon’s, being all white and gold and black. I want to know more about her so, so very badly. When are we getting her as a party member, Cygames?

Alright, that’s enough of 17. Let’s get into the interludes. I can tell from the thumbnail of the first that these are gonna be spicy.

A Clandestine Conversation: Return of Nevin! And Sandalphon, who I’m a bit more interested in. The only difference in her sprites is the icon in her eyes--she doesn’t even blink. Not only that, but looking at her halo, she appears to have a power cord of some kind. Is she some kind of hyperrealistic android? One of her sprites even has a power symbol! Nevin’s deduction is also interesting; seems there’s a rift going on between the apostles and the cardinal, who we know had Basileus steal the sealing stone. It seems Sandalphon and Nevin have come to the same conclusion. Nevin also seems to know a thing or two about Euden’s true origins, though it’s probably less that he knows specifically about Euden and more that he’s privy to changeling matters.

Ambition: So it seems that Cardinal Graht is the one that’s been pulling the strings behind every affair, which was implied in the chapter itself, but here it’s made much more plain. It also seems that Harle is Graht’s direct subordinate, though it’s obvious neither of them actually trust the other. And Harle seems to have some kind of plan with the Dawnshard. We know the Sacred Shards are all derived from Alberius’s sword that shattered during his final confrontation with Morsayati, so what makes the Dawnshard so special?

And... that’s it. Ambition implies that Harle is going to clash with Euden’s party in the Faerie Kingdom, but he also suggests that there’s more than one group that will meet them both there. The Agito are heading there as well, we know, but is there anyone else?

...You know, we haven’t heard from Beren and Phares for a while...

#dragalia lost #chapter 17 #main campaign #god please tell me more about sheila cygames why is she on the new main screen #why does origa have faerie imagery and an outfit similar to empress zethia's #give me answers

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courage-a-word-of-justice · 3 years

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Fairy Ranmaru 3 - 5 | TWEWY 3 - 5 | HGPC 6 - 12, 22 - 24 | Back Arrow 7

Adding the tag for Fairy Ranmaru, because that's the only anime I have really set for this season.

Fairy Ranmaru 3

· Update: For some reason, I didn’t quite realise he was speaking English the first time and then repeating himself in Japanese. It’s only a very short scene, which is probably how it happened.

· LOL, that one well-timed beam that only vaguely obscured Uruu’s butt…

· If I heard small Uruu right, he calls her okaasama and not okaasan.

· LOL, Asahi (morning) = Yuuhi (evening) beer.

· I wonder what’s up with Houjou? Is he gonna be evil, like (SPOILERS!) the manager in Mahou Shoujo Ore? Why doesn’t Houjou have wings, anyway? Update: Notice the main quintet get rid of the wings in some shots and then conjure them when necessary. It might just be Houjou hasn’t needed his wings yet…

· Hmm…I’ve been thinking about how Japanese HypMic fans buy lots of CDs and merch (crazy amounts, have you seen the shrines???) to do something similar, but their purpose isn’t really to keep their characters’ careers going in as much as it is to further a plotline…so is it really on the same level as this [buying all the photobooks for the sake of helping the relevant celebrity succeed]? I dunno, you decide.

· LOL, conveniently-placed light beams are really terrible this episode.

· …wow. That got…uh…suggestive (?) (I was really shocked when I saw that the first time. How did they manage to get away with that on late-night TV???)

· We went from Madoka Magica -> moe world -> ukiyoe world…what’s next?

· …uh…suggestive? (x2)

· They really like the pot theme, huh…?

· I dunno if that was meant to be poignant that Ranmaru said Uruu was crying on the inside, but…I laughed at it.

HGPC 6

· Wait, so why was Nodoka’s mum unemployed? Was she moving for work? Update: Seems she quit her job because Nodoka was hospitalised.

HGPC 7

· (no notes, sorry!)

HGPC 8

· SKY appears to be “Sukoyaka”. Update: Yep, later you see Chiyu with the track outfit and it says SKYK.

HGPC 9

· (no notes, sorry!)

HGPC 10

· (no notes, sorry!)

Back Arrow 7

· This general with the big beard kinda looks like Archie (from Pokemon).

· Hmm…I think I like Prax already, with the sole exception her Briheight looks rather similar to a palette-swapped Muga.

TWEWY 3

· This song must mean so much more to people who’ve played the game…(The OP, I mean.)

· Shoumetsu…it means “erasure”, technically. Will wait and see if it means more in context.

· Subaru using his normal voice as Beat. I think Ichiro is also his normal voice, or slightly gruffer and/or lower.

· Tower Records, as anime fans know, is an anime/music store. They’re well known for their “no anime, no life” stuff (exhibit A: the HypMic Rhyme Anima version).

· Ooh, Shibuya Marui. Reminds me of the one I saw in Akihabara.

· One of the signs in the back says “Shibuya First Bank”.

· “…1 Days” (sic).

· Why do I seem to recall Neku can only use one of his badge powers as a time…? Where did I learn that from?...I don’t know.

· The final boss defeated in episode 3. There is surely more around the corner…

· Ohhhhhhhh! That’s a big twist!

TWEWY 4

· Parco = this department store chain. Known mostly for P’PARCO shopping centres.

· *opens calculator on computer* The square root of 10814 is 104…Shibuya 104. Update: It’s 109 in real life, but 104 here.

· Are those…crabs? *Crab Rave plays in background*

· The Reapers at the top have cardinal directions in their surnames, but Uzuki doesn’t. That’s because her first name means the 4th month of the calendar. Update: Kariya has the character for “hunter” in his surname, too.

· LOL, Yoshidaya (in the back, a parody of Yoshinoya).

· I wonder, why is Joshua’s power so similar to Neku’s fire pin…?

· Rhyme has “dream” as one of the kanji in her name.

· Kangaroo Noise…(*thinks about HypMic ARB* Not more kangaroos…) (<- kidding)

· Oh no! I read spoilers before this so I knew Beat was going to become a Reaper, but…oh nooooooooo!

HGPC 11

· Exploding dandelion seeds…now that’s novel!

HGPC 12

· Ah, so here’s Batetemoda’s intro…(he’s such a chuuni…)

HGPC 22

· Skipped a bunch of episodes because I saw them already.

· The decision to write “Asumin” without the U is a bit weird, I think, but still a valid one.

HGPC 23

· (no notes, sorry!)

HGPC 24

· (no notes, sorry!)

Fairy Ranmaru 4

· LOL, he (Juka) tossed poor Bakkun…

· LOL, censorship bottles.

· Brass ring. I’d never heard of the term before and I’m an English (kinda-)native speaker. (Technically Cantonese is my first language, but English is my best.)

· Did you see Uruu’s rubber duck?

· Bakkun’s a couch now! Cute!

· …so basically, Juka is a healer. Got it.

· Note how the F is green now…

· I always look away at the kiss scenes. They’re a bit of a waste of time, methinks.

· LOL, the randomly-placed effects and beams over Juka’s bits.

· Oh, Sunflowers. That would explain why Starry Night is Juka’s painting in the OP, like Uruu’s is the Great Wave.

· …and here’s Starry Night now, right on cue.

· JKRM???? (Shouldn’t that be L…?)

TWEWY 5

· The A in “CAT” looked slightly like it had cat ears.

· Wait, if this was with flip phones back in the day, did they still have apps then…? Or was it programs?

· Ooh, orange badge.

· ”Fresh Humburger”, LOL.

Fairy Ranmaru 5

· Note the opening segment has a plain chatreuse background for Ranmaru (aside from a scratched effect, like someone’s rubbed a pencil lead over it), fireworks for Homura, the Wave for Uruu, Starry Night for Juka and…I don’t know what Takara’s is, but it’s bright yellow and has spots on the edges.

· LOL, Bakkun’s use of sauces. If they only eat curry, why do they have tomato sauce and mustard, anyway…?

· I don’t think I ever properly understood what “out to lunch” meant…”temporarily not in command of one's mental faculties.” There you go!

· The sign’s F is gold this time…

· Yeah, around when she said “you bought all my vegetables”, I noticed the boxes said “carrots”, “potatoes” and so on. I didn’t even know “carrot” had kanji until yesterday, believe it or not (and I learnt that from a HypMic fan comic…*sweatdrops* Samatoki hates carrots).

· I dunno why, but men in anime sure seem to be proud of eating meat…

· LOL, weirdly-placed light beams over Takara’s butt. (I don’t know whether to call the staff “cowards” for refusing to showing the full butt or not.)

· Even the money has pots on it! I love how this anime keeps on going with that joke…(lel?)

· As it turns out, fuhen means “unchanging”. Yaochou likewise means “fixed game”, but it’s a pun on the word for “grocer” (八百屋, readyaoya and sharing the first two kanji, hence the English translation of “Fixed Grocer”).

· Oh! I had to think about it a little, but Ruise = Seiru (sale) backwards. (Update: Sort of, there's a line in the middle that has to be covered for with the I.) “Oshida”, I think, is meant to mean “authority”, so to put that with Fuhen would mean something like “eternal authority [over Ruise and her dad, due to their debt]”. Update: You know when the bull gets pushed out of the ring? That’s called oshidashi.

· Hmm? That star badge Takara wears in human form seems to be that yellow thing on his shoulder in fairy form.

· Hmm…come to think of it, “bull” was the name of a type of stock market speculator…What a pun!

· Why does Takara keep licking his lips???

#simulcast commentary #Fairy Ranmaru #Back Arrow #The World Ends With You #Subarashiki Kono Sekai #Healin' Good PreCure #Chesarka watches F-Ran #Chesarka watches TWEWY #Chesarka watches Back Arrow #Chesarka watches HGPC

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offtopicoverload · 3 years

Note

What are your headcanons for star signs for female characters in general? I’m definitely interested. I have Marisol as a Virgo, and Lottie’s Scorpio of course. I can’t remember what else I have set, but I’m very interested x

Disclaimer: I’m still learning zodiac stuff, like I know the basics and a couple signs better than others, but this is just general vibes for me

- I was so on the fence with Marisol, between Virgo and Capricorn. I can see both really well, and almost had her as Capricorn, cuz for whatever reason, I really want her to have a winter birthday, but I think fall fits her too. So I’m gonna settle on Virgo, it’s just stiffer than Capricorn. Capricorn’s also a cardinal sign which takes initiative and stuff, and I think Marisol’s far more comfortable with nothing ever changing or deviating from her set path, which is pretty Virgo

- Elisa is an Aries through and through. She’s got the fire, the energy, the passion, the diving head first and facing consequences later but still not backing down. So maybe kinda close to Taurus with the stubbornness, but overall Aries

- Lottie’s a Scorpio for sure. Almost put Sag for the fire and the site I’m using described them with wanderlust, so she’s probably on the cusp yknow

- Hannah’s easily a Pisces, head in the clouds, emotional, gets lost easily. I don’t think I need to explain much more lol

- For Priya, I had a hard time deciding. I think I’ve finally settled on Gemini cuz she’s so hard to pin down but fun and bright and pretty free, she kinda moves between not giving a shit and being really bogged down by others and emotions, so Gemini and duality fits in my mind

- Hope is a Capricorn, I think, maybe on the cusp with Sag? She’s got the fire and passion of a fire sign, but determination and work ethic and dedication I’d associate with earth. And she’s got the determination to a fault down too, so Cap fits her

- Chelsea seems like a Cancer. She’s sweet and hates seeing people upset, and I can’t see any self preservation tendencies in her, but she’d definitely prioritize her mates instead

- Talia’s an Aquarius to me with her free spirit and how little she cares about other people’s opinions. She’s just chill but can whip out that frustration and sense of justice, like when Levi and Mason were fighting, and that seems like what Aquarius is all about

- I’ve got Allegra as Scorpio too, like Lottie, since they’re pretty similar. Scorpios were described as super calculating and that’s definitely Allegra in the Villa, but with an underbelly that I can see as her letting MC in after the reunion

- Cherry’s a Leo, with the fire, maybe kinda close to Cancer with her emotions, at least my version of Cherry. She has to be a fire sign one way or another, her hair’s bright red and she sets the Villa nearly literally on fire, and I think Leo’s a good middle ground between Aries and their lack of inhibitions and Sag with the direct target, straight as an arrow stuff

- I can’t place Erikah, but I think she might be a Gemini? I was thinking Aries, just for her jealousy and immaturity, but I think Gemini being wishy-washy and still low enough in the cycle to have some ‘juvenile’ traits still works. I love her, but she doesn’t. fucking. think. and has no problem ignoring others to go for what she wants. But at the same time, she’s such a sweetheart, and I think it’s similar to Priya, I can’t place her and she switches so easily, so we’re just gonna go with duality as the explanation lmao. And close to Cancer cuz she's got the softness lol

- I think AJ’s similar to Elisa, dives head first, no going back. She’s fun and bright and out there and has endless energy and I think Aries fits her pretty well for all of that fire and youthfulness

- Okay, I don’t know Yasmin too well, but she seems like a Cancer? Like she’s aloof and kinda protective of herself at first, but super sweet when she knows someone, and to be a musician I feel like you’ve gotta be pretty in tune with your emotions and stuff

- Lily seems like a Sagittarius. Just determined but a little care free yknow? That’s it. That’s all I have on her. Sorry

- I’m pretty confident about Elladine being a Libra. She likes balance, she’s creative and an artist, she’s a bit of a people-pleaser, she’s a natural leader, all that’s described as Libra, so I’m pretty cool with it

- Genevieve seems like a Taurus - steady, dependable, determined. She likes comfort, she plays the long game like with Seb and having to go through so much to be a doctor, she’s patient, I just think it fits. But she probably has a lot of water in the rest of her chart since she’s so caring

Bonus: Aurora from OH is a Virgo

#can it kc #lit marisol #litg elisa #litg lottie #litg hannah #litg priya #litg hope #litg chelsea #litg talia #litg allegra #litg cherry #litg erikah #litg aj #litg yasmin #litg lily #litg elladine #litg genevieve #oh dp #bubblelaureno

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tipsycad147 · 3 years

Text

Circle-casting basics: All you need to know about magick circles

by Michelle Gruben

Circle-casting is one of the foundational skills of Wicca and witchcraft. Often, it’s one of the first things that newbies learn to do as part of their training.

What is circle-casting?

Why cast a circle?

How do you cast a circle?

A traditional circle has four cardinal points, set equidistant around the circle’s circumference. They are linked to the the four directions, the four Elements, and the Wiccan seasonal calendar. I think of the Quarters as ancient intelligences that appear in many of the world's religions. If you prefer, you can think of them as tent poles that balance the circle’s shape and energy.

Is circle-casting necessary for magick?

How large should the circle be? What shape?

The nine-foot circle is not a commandment, just a suggestion. Feel free to tailor your circle to your needs and the available space.

What does being in circle feel like?

Being in a really solid circle is a bit like having an orgasm. You can read about it and get some ideas…but when you have one, you’ll know.

Here are some notes about standing inside magickal circles:

Being in circle is like having a lucid dream. It feels real and not-real at the same time.

Being in circle is like being wrapped up in a blanket that smells like you.

Being in circle is like being in an airplane cabin with the pressure turned up too high.

Being in circle is like being very tall and still with your feet deep in the ground and your head among the star.

Being in circle is like looking at an alien planet through frosted glass.

Being in circle is like being able to move while the rest of the world is frozen.

That’s a few of mine, anyway. How about yours?

How do you take down a circle?

https://www.groveandgrotto.com/blogs/articles/circle-casting-basics-all-you-need-to-know-about-magick-circles

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boymeetsweevil · 4 years

Text

MBD - 04

Grouping: Reader x Yoongi

Word Count: <8k

Summary: Three lessons to be learned: 1) don’t read the comments. Ever. 2) Baking will never let you down. 3) Don’t tease Yoongi.

Warnings/Themes: Angst?? Heavy doses of body image and related unhealthy behaviors, low self-esteem, cyberbullying? May be triggering for some. Some suggestive content. A jealous Yoongi.

part 0, part 1, part 2, part 3

A few more days pass through your break from work. Yoongi stayed with you the morning after coming back from the club to help you nurse your hangover, but he’d been in the dorms and studio since then. This left you with extra time on your hands.

In that time, you visited your best friend and your cousin who both lived deeper in the city, a mere hour’s ride from your apartment in the outskirts. You also got ahead on some work despite the fact that your boss gave you strict warnings about fully enjoying the break after seeing how hard you worked on the project for the quarter. But eventually you ran out work you could do and had nothing left but Netflix and the internet.

As it turns out, being alone with the internet ends up being a horrible set of circumstances. Curiosity and boredom get the best of you, and you find yourself breaking a cardinal rule.

You google Yoongi to see what pops up and get recent news about him being spotted with a lady friend. You know better, but optimism pulls you in and you’re opening up one of the articles. Apparently a fan that snuck into the VIP booth snapped a picture of you dancing with him at the club you went to a few days prior. Yoongi looks handsome with his bare face half obscured by his mask and a soft expression as he looks at you. But you let out a raspy gasp at your picture.

The only good thing about the photo is that your face is turned away from the camera, leaving your identity barely undiscovered. But your neck is coated with sweat, gleaming under the club lights. In the picture, the dance-move you’re doing is frozen, awkward and contorted, your body looks all wrong. With the powerful camera flash, you can see all the spots on your clothes where sweat had accumulated, all the spots where your amateur makeup skills failed. There’s no grace, no elegance, no dignity afforded to you in the photo. It’s not the first time you’ve seen of yourself in a random pap site or careless photos. But it’s by far the worst one you’ve seen.

Like a magnet is drawing you there, even though your stomach already feels like shards of ice are forming inside it, you break a second cardinal rule. You read the comments.

It’s amazing that she feels comfortable looking like that when there’s a literal GOD standing next to her. I could never do that. I wouldn’t even leave the house

Why is something like this allowed when there are much prettier girls to pick from?

I don’t think Yoongi would be stupid enough to date this girl, the picture probably just makes it look like they’re together when they’re obvi not

actually I think this is the same girl in that ##0524 photo. Look (image01) same hairstyle and earrings. I think she just turned into a blimp...

Guys plz be nice u don’t know this person. Maybe she has a really great personality

so? This is what she gets for trying too hard to cling to Yoongi

Yo it’s prolly cuz she’s rich. You see those leggings? I didn’t even think they made them in that size but they’re from that brand IU wears. And they’re like $250 :0

She wasn’t even that pretty before this but now I REALLY don’t get it. Yoongi~~ there are skinnier girls who would suit u better

Load 675 more...

You slam your laptop shut before fumbling for your phone. Breathing levelly, you’re the picture of eerie calm with the exception of the way your hands tremble. You pull up your text messages to text your best friend when you stop yourself. While the company knows that you’re dating, you’re not allowed to disclose any information about Yoongi or the relationship to any third parties. To the public he’s still single despite his dating clause having expired long before you even met. And there’s no way to explain what you’re going through to your friend without bringing up your secret boyfriend’s stardom.

So who can you turn to, you wonder. You can’t tell your friends. You can’t tell your mother either. As much as you love her, she’d spill the secret in minutes out of well-meaning pride. And there’s no way you can tell Yoongi.

Taking a deep breath in through your nose, you hold it for as long as you can before shoving a pillow over your face and screaming. All that’s left to show for the few minutes you spend screaming is the fact that you feel about 1% better and your now-hoarse voice. But the relief doesn’t last. The relief leaves room for heat to rise on your skin. Annoyance fills all your empty spaces. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and feel more anger.

Maybe you just aren’t working hard enough and people can just see that. Maybe you just aren’t being productive, you haven’t earned your spot yet. You hop off the bed and look around the room, almost frantic in your search for something to work on and actually improve.

Start with a deep clean, you tell yourself.

Two days later when Yoongi comes over, you’re still in the process of purging your tiny apartment.

“What’s all this,” he kicks gently at the garbage bags full of clothes littering the walkway to your bedroom. You jump at the sound of his voice, having forgotten that he mentioned coming over.

“I’m just doing some tidying up. I started with towel folding videos on YouTube and ended up realizing I have a hoarding problem.”

“I don’t think having dust bunnies under your bed counts as hoarding, but okay.” He searches for some space on your bed to sit in. The duvet’s surface is also covered in a mixture of old clothes and little knick knacks you’ve had since before you graduated college. “I didn’t realize you had so many clothes.”

You watch him pick up a spaghetti string top that you hadn’t gotten around to sorting yet. He gestures towards the two trash bags full of clothes on the floor.

“Put it in that one,” you point to the one furthest from the bed.

“Is this the donate pile?” He folds the shirt almost neatly and places it on the top of the other items with a sympathetic pat.

“Uh, no.”

“Then what is it? Looks like you already have everything you’re keeping,” he peers into your stocked closet.

“That’s actually the...inspiration pile,” you explain quietly.

“What?”

“It’s the stuff I'm gonna keep as motivation for me to lose weight.”

“Oh,” you’re surprised to see what looks like faint disappointment in Yoongi’s eyes as your words register. “I mean...makes sense.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean that’s one route you could take.”

“Is there another route?” You turn to face him fully from your spot on the ground with a confused smile. The shoes you were organizing lay unattended.

“Well, you could not lose the weight,” he shrugs.

You avert your gaze to the ceiling, as if the true meaning of his words will be scribed there. It sounds as though he’s suggesting you don’t try to get back down to where you were before the huge project your boss assigned you, but you figure that can’t be it.

“I just mean that you could donate these,” he points at the clothes in the inspiration pile. “Some of them look like they’re brand new—I’ve never even seen you in them. And you could just get some new clothes.”

“You mean like ones that fit me now?”

“Or like before.” He shrugs. “Your style was nice, I don’t know why you changed it.”

“It changed because nothing I had before fits now. So I have to wear this other stuff.” You’re talking about the shapeless sweaters and the monotonous greyscale pants.

“You don’t have to.”

He makes a valid point, but it’s a small one. Besides, there’s something else you’re digging for. “So you really think I should buy bigger clothes?”

“Yes,” he says, like it’s so simple.

“Okay...but these clothes are supposed to be there to motivate me to lose the weight. If I just get a new wardrobe, that’ll mean the motivation is gone.”

“Okay,” he draws out the syllables while waiting to hear what your point is.

“That means I’ll stay like this.”

“What do you mean ‘like this’? What’s wrong with that?”

Your fists clench at your side as you think back to the photos of you in the club. And the comments from the netizens all saying roughly the same thing. With the puzzled way he stands there and looks at you, you feel another wave of frustration rise up. Did he really not see what was happening? Was he really going to make you say it?

“Hey,” he peers down at the veins rearing against the skin of your hands. “I mean it. What’s wrong?”

He gets up like the discussion is about to go somewhere but his phone ringing loudly with the little jingle reserved for one of his producer buddies stops the conversation in its tracks. You take this as a moment to shoo him out your place before your head explodes. Yoongi looks conflicted, he truly does. Still, he answers the call dutifully and gives a few affirmative words to assure that he is going to be at the studio soon and is ready to work. The call is short, but the mood is still tense like an angry, trapped breath.

“I have, like, 5 more minutes before I have to go—”

“You know what? Never mind. You’re clearly busy with studio stuff and I’m...busy too.”

With steely eyes, you take the clothes he was trying to help you with and add them to your own pile. He picks up the few things he brought with him in his brief visit and eyes you like he wants to say more. His gaze lingers over the sides of your face like a regretful touch and you turn to the side to shrug it off.

Another beep from his phone shatters the gossamer thin atmosphere further. He sighs and pulls his phone back out before hunching his shoulders.

“Can I use your laptop to check my email really quickly before I go? They just sent me a file and I can’t open it on my—”

“Yeah, yeah, just take it with you. I don’t need it,” you cut him off and wave a hand in the direction of your computer.

He looks almost upset when he gathers your laptop in his arms with the rest of his things, but doesn’t push the issue any further. The air is too tight for anything, even a genuine goodbye. Your throat is sore with oncoming angry tears and you just want him out.

The door shuts behind him softly, in place of the usual goodbye kiss. You wait until you know he’s gone let it all out.

*** Yoongi opens your laptop when he’s in the back of the car taking him to the studio. It takes him a minute to remember your password, but he logs on with minimal difficulty and the last thing you were looking at pops up obediently.

The rest of your break from work passes without a visit from Yoongi again. It’s not a coincidence. It’s because you turned your phone off for 48 hours and even after you turn it back on, you mute all other notifications and only look at it to check your work email and tell your friends that you’re ‘unplugging for a bit’.

In that time, you get all your clothes sorted. You burn through an entire fitness-based podcast series. You declutter your whole apartment. But there’s still an unpleasant buzzing under your skin that doesn’t go away. Even with the reintroduction of at-home cardio and the shady water fast you did that promised a lifted mood and a loss of 2 pounds.

Then you’re home from work one day, and you find yourself pacing all around the rooms of your place. You’re fed up with bottling things up, but you don’t know what to do with this knowledge. Yes, it’s nice to realize that everything you’d been chasing wasn’t worth the torture you put yourself through, but you can’t seem to get any further. So you try baking. And when that doesn’t put you at ease immediately, you break down and call Yoongi.

Yoongi picks up immediately. Part of you is surprised because he’s been working on new mixtape stuff and when that happens he’s usually unreachable. But another part of you isn’t surprised because, to him, you dropped off the face of the earth after a near-argument and he’s still technically on break from promotions for a little while longer. There’s no reason not to be answering the phone. In spite of all this, his tone is a tentative mix of concern and relief that has you blinking in confusion before curtly telling him you wanted to talk at your place.

He arrives in a defensive cocoon of layers and squared off features. Only one of the two he sheds at the coat rack by your front door before going to find you in the kitchen, just finishing shoving dozens of muffins into the oven.

“Hey,” he says after clearing his throat to make his presence known.

“Hey.” You turn around and remove the oven mitts you’re wearing. “We need to talk about some things.”

“I know,” he chuckles humorlessly. “I saw that shit on your computer.”

Your brow furrows in thought as you recall the last thing you used your laptop for. Recollection comes eventually. Briefly you wonder if Yoongi read past the top comments. If he gave into the urge to comb through every single one to satisfy morbid curiosity. You nod.

“It definitely has to do with that.”

“Fuck what those people are saying. You don’t need to change or to—to keep an inspiration pile.”

At that, you groan. Your fingers tap on the countertop impatiently. “Can you please stop saying stuff like that?”

“What? That you’re perfect the way you are?” He spits.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not true.”

“Why wouldn’t it be true?”

Frustrated tears well up in the corners of your eyes because while you get that this isn’t an issue he’d ever have to worry about, part of you still don’t understand how he doesn’t get it. He’s trying so hard to be a good, romantic boyfriend that he doesn’t even see how much he misses. It’s supposed to be comforting, you’re sure, but it only infuriates you.

“Because I don’t fucking match you like this!”

He jumps at the sound of your raised voice, eyes wide. “Match me? What the hell?”

“You heard me,” you mumble.

“Yeah, I fucking heard you, but it still doesn’t make any sense. You’re not signed to some stupid contract, you’re not mandated to do anything with your body.”

“Haven’t I, though? I signed that fucking non-disclosure agreement after all. And I get a fucking angry call from your PR agents every time I show up in your pap photos, even though my face is never in them.” At this point you’re pacing again. This time it’s in tight circles in front of your fridge. “You said it yourself, you saw those awful comments. You saw how mad people get when I don’t show myself in just the right way. Those fans ripped me apart, Yoongi.” Your voice cracks and you curse yourself for being an angry crier. Crossing your arms around yourself, you try your best to beat back the tears.

“So you’re going to let a few fans tell you how to feel?”

“A few fans?” You’re close to laughter. “Try six hundred comments on one photo. Six hundred comments about the person who isn’t even the celebrity. And then multiply that by the number of times someone’s caught me at an unflattering angle or when I was bloating or when I started gaining weight back for real. Do the fucking math, Yoongi.”

That shuts him down instantly. Immediately worry replaces the incredulity. “I—how many times has this happened? Is this not the first time?”

You sigh at his ignorance. “No, but this is first time I was dumb enough to read the comments.”

“Why didn’t you say anything the first time something like this happened?” Yoongi’s face is full of distraught guilt. It’s hard for you to look at.

“What do you want me to say? Did you really want to hear me say all this stuff about some of your fans? These are people that love you. And you love them.”

“I love you, too. You know that,” he whispers, voice raw with emotion.

You can only sigh again because you do know. He does love you. He loves you perhaps too much. At this point, it seems like he’s so infatuated with you that he can’t fathom that people would have issues with you. But he’s also so in love with his career that you don’t have the heart to show him the things you’re facing. The dissonance would be too much to add to his already-full plate. And knowing Yoongi, he might do something stupid and get himself in trouble with his own fans. You’d hate to be the cause of something like that in his career.

The oven beeps and you use that as an excuse to escape the way his eyes shine as he contemplates just how much he wasn’t aware of until now.

He leans on the doorframe to watch you pull out the muffins from the oven and drop them unceremoniously onto the stovetop. The muffins are perfectly golden-brown and give off a warm, sweet scent that fills the kitchen quickly. You stand silent with your back to him, shoulders rising with the careful breaths you’re forcing yourself to take.

“Do you still love me,” his voice is small when it floats over to you.

“Ughh,” you claw at your face with your oven mitts. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t have asked you over if I didn’t. But...you have to understand that this is hard for me.”

“And what is ‘this’?

You turn and lean back against the counter, gesturing vaguely with a gloved hand. “This idol thing.” He tilts his head, not understanding. “I just mean that you have this amazing image because you’re out in the spotlight and I don’t want to sully that for you by...not looking like I should.”

“Why do you care about what other people think so much?”

“That’s so easy for you to say when people love you and you look like that. It’s different for regular people.” Your voice cracks once more as the shine lighting up your eyes breaks and runs down your cheeks. “It’s different because I’m already not deserving of you in their eyes. I can’t be regular and not look perfect.”

His hard demeanor softens at the sound of your sniffles and he comes to pull you into his chest, smoothing over your back. “Baby, there’s nothing wrong with the way you look.”

“I know that,” you sob. “I know that there’s nothing wrong with me, but you’ve seen what people say on those stupid forums. No amount of self-confidence could protect anyone from that shit.”

“Can I ask you something,” he says softly after a few aching moments of listening to you try to rein in your breathing.

“Y-yeah.”

“Who are the most important people in your life?”

“Huh?” You look up at him with watery lashes and he wonders how you could ever find fault with what you see in the mirror.

“Whose opinion matters to you most?”

“I don’t know,” you rub wet cheeks against the fabric of his top and think. “My boss since he pays me, obviously. And coworkers, I guess. My friends, definitely. My family, although they’re pretty easy to ignore.” He snorts. “A-and you,” you add on at the end hastily.

He gives you a sad smile when you look up at him. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I mean...doesn’t how you feel matter? You just listed a bunch of other people.”

“Of course what I feel matters,” you say suddenly. You push back from him to clear your head. The tears have stopped flowing, though your cheeks are still wet. “I just can’t go through the world only ever hearing or caring about what I think. But I like myself, Yoongi.”

He nods seriously.

“Even if it doesn’t seem like it because I’m shy sometimes, or quiet. I like myself. But it still hurts to have people tell me they think I shouldn’t. I’m not the type of person who doesn’t react when people attempt to hurt me. That’s the part that hurts the most, I think. Knowing that it was their goal all along.”

“I get that. Or,” He purses his lips, “I think I do. I want to get it, anyway.”

You give him a weak smile because he’s cute, even in moments like this.

He squeezes your hand before bringing it to his lips. It’s not quite a kiss, just him brushing his lips against your skin while he talks. “But I still want to be there for you. And I hate that I could only guess when you were hurting.”

“I should have told you, but I was embarrassed.”

“Why would you be embarrassed?” He moves back to pull up a chair at your dining room table. His gaze is genuine and engaged as he looks to you for an answer.

“I’ve been dieting since the company approved us dating privately. This is the first time I’ve been...normal around you. I was worried you’d have this epiphany. That I’m not who you thought I was.”

“Do you remember the first night we met,” he asks all of the sudden.

“Yeah? You came to visit me at work and freaked my supervisor out. She still has that napkin you autographed.”

“That’s not the first night we met,” he shakes his head and chuckles. “We first met at my party. The one your cousin brought you to.”

“Oh, god. I hardly remember that, I was so drunk. I think I blocked it out.”

“You looked like this back then,” he smiles softly at you, memories of that night settling over the surroundings as they play out in front of him.

“Yeah, I know,” you nod softly, eyes averted.

“And you were so pretty that night too.” His gaze turns slightly salacious. “In that little shiny dress you wore—what ever happened to that?”

“You’re dumb,” you shove him with a simpering smile. He merely grins before pulling you slightly closer towards where he’s seated at the kitchen table.

“You still have it?”

“Oh my god, leave me alone.”

He leans into your space, making you duck your head to hide the way your cheeks flare up at his personal attention. Seeing you like this makes something coil in his belly. In due time, he thinks as he backs off. In due time, he’ll really give it to you. But in the meantime he behaves and doesn’t do anything more than intertwine your fingers together.

“I’m donating the clothes from the inspiration bag,” you mumble into his hair.

He pulls back and is careful to keep his face neutral. “Yeah?”

“I did a lot of thinking. And I realized that I don’t think I can say I really like myself if I keep forcing myself into this...mold.”

His brows furrow, lips pouting prettily as he focuses on following your train of thought. “So, what does that mean now?”

“So, this is me. For a long time probably, unless something major happens. I’m telling you so it can sink in. This is your out.”

“Okay,” he stands up from his chair slowly. Large, warm hands come to cup your face tenderly. “And this is me telling you I don’t want an out.”

“Okay,” you breathe out a sigh of relief so deep you don’t know where it came from.

“Glad that much is worked out,” he says before planting a sweet kiss on your cheek. “Hey.”

“What?”

“Can I have a muffin?”

You roll your eyes but go and get a plate from the cabinet. He watches you carefully as you hesitate at the oven before gingerly putting two muffins on the plate. When you return to the table, you mumble something about just wanting to see if they came out good and he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he takes a bite of one of your rare instances of culinary genius. He lets out a moan that makes your eyes widen and you take a bite before nodding to yourself.

“Just open a bakery already,” he says with a semi-full mouth and reaches out with grabby hands until you get the message to leave your chair. He pulls you into his lap and you try not to feel too self-conscious as you settle your thighs on top of his own. His hand lands on top of your lap casually, large hands splaying out on top to squeeze affectionately at the softness he finds there.

You worry you’re cutting off the blood supply to his legs but he sits happily with you in his lap and even kicks a little rhythm out while finishing his muffin. You get up and he snags the untouched part of your muffin before pulling his phone out of his pocket.

There’s a stream of messages in the group chat asking about his whereabouts and what he wants to do tonight. He answers that he’s with you and the other members all complain about how long it’s been since you visited them. Jungkook even tells Yoongi to bring you over to his place since they’re having a small kickback with just themselves and your post-break workload is still light. He purses his lips and asks for a raincheck, not wanting to push you into being on just yet.

***

A few days pass and the messages get more and more annoying as the other members whine about not having seen neither Yoongi nor you in far too long. So during one of the last days of their break, while he’s trying to dictate a cookie recipe to you, he breaks down at the 13th ping from his phone in a short period.

“Do you want to come hang out with me and the guys tonight?”

Normally if you’re invited over, you jump at the chance because you love getting out of your apartment and you like seeing Yoongi in his element with the people he’s closest to. But you don’t jump on the invitation now because it’s been so long since you last saw the guys and you know that you looked different then.

“I don’t know,” you fold toasted almonds into the cookie dough.

“Why not?”

“You know why,” you sigh. “And as nice as they are, I don’t really want to deal with the ‘did you do something with your hair’ or ‘wow you look so different’ comments.”

“They’re not gonna say that, they’re not total assholes. Look, if anyone says or does anything stupid, I’ll rip them a new one and take you back here.”

You purse your lips while you think it over. “And then will you stay the night?”

“If something stupid happens, I’ll cancel my studio appointment and stay over,” he smiles at you, eyes crinkling. “I’ll tell them we’re on our way now.”

“I can’t leave now,” your hands flutter up as you go from 0 to 60. “I’m a mess, I need to—”

“It’s just the guys. There’s literally no one there worth impressing. I would know.”

“Fine,” you groan. “Just let me change. I’m covered in flour.”

In your room, you find yourself unsure of what to put on. You no longer have any of the clothes you used to wear when you needed to feel like you objectively looked good. But you do have the gorgeous leggings Yoongi gifted you. You switch out your current shirt for a cleaner one and slip on a pair you’ve become obsessed with.

Yoongi punches in the code to the front door of Jungkook’s apartment while you hold the tin of cookies you made. Your fingers slip against the container due to having grown a bit clammy on the ride over. It took a heinous amount of time to wrap them in a way that would keep them warm all during the ride across the city. And now you’re nervous despite the fact that Yoongi sensed it in the car and hurled reassurance after reassurance at you.

But when Namjoon pulls the door open and greets both of you with a smile and a hug and no weird looks, you let out a tiny sigh of relief.

The guys crowd around you after Yoongi announces that you baked. Hoseok mumbles to himself about Yoongi hiding you purposefully so he could hoard your baking and takes two cookies for good measure. Jungkook says thank you politely before splitting one with Jimin. Taehyung takes two for himself and Namjoon and tells you ‘welcome back’. While the rest of the members snack, you count off the remaining sweets in the container and realize you didn’t give any to Jin.

The oldest member is standing in the hallway, drinking from a glass of water and scrolling through his phone when you find him. He must not have gotten the memo that you arrived, so you make your presence known by softly clearing your throat.

“Long time no see,” you smile at Jin.

He peers at you over the rim of his glass for a few long beats and you work to keep your smile natural. You can’t help but worry that he’s looking at the way you’ve has changed since he last saw you, chiseling away at the outside to see the familiar you he knows underneath.

“I guess it has been,” he finally says when he drains his glass. He leans back to rest his back on the wall. “Whatcha got there?”

“Oh, um, they’re just some cookies I made today. Yoongi had been bugging me about making them and I gave some to the others. I just thought I’d see if you wanted any.”

“I’ve always liked your baking.” He reaches out and plucks a cookie from the tin. A second later half of the cookie is gone. He chews thoughtfully.

“This is a new recipe, so I don’t know if it’s as good as it could be. I haven’t had much time for experimenting in the kitchen with work up until now so they might be—”

“I can only imagine how good they were when they first came out of the oven,” he finishes the rest and cuts your rambling off.

You stand there, oddly nervous, while he chews. When he finishes, he watches you fiddle with the lid so the cookies don’t get stale.

“Something’s changed about you,” Jin says finally, his eyes moving from your hair to your toes. You nearly drop the tin in your fumbling, and cringe from both the comment and your clumsiness.

“Yeah, I... gained some weight recently,” you blurt out in the hopes that it’ll be less uncomfortable if you’re the one to say it. But it’s not.

“Hmm,” Jin’s eyes rove over you more thoroughly, making you stand ramrod straight. “I don’t think that’s it. It’s something else, I think.”

“Oh. Well I don’t know, then.”

“What’s going on,” Yoongi’s voice creeps into the mix.

When you turn your head, you’re greeted with the sight of Yoongi in the doorway. He looks comfortably settled against the doorframe, like he’s been there for a while. His gaze isn’t directed at you, but at Jin, you realize. A quick glance back shows that they’re both looking at one another.

“Nothing. We were just talking.” Jin shrugs before walking over to you. A hand on the small of your back brings you with him and up to Yoongi.

Yoongi fixes Jin with a narrowed stare. “The guys were wondering where you both were. They want to play a game together.”

“We were here. No need to worry about us.”

“Well, why don’t you go in and tell them that? I’m gonna speak with my girlfriend.”

Jin gives him an amused smile before giving you a two-fingered captain’s salute and heading to the living room. It might have seemed dorky if anyone had done it, but you marvel over how cool he makes the gesture look. Yoongi turns to you then and takes in your distant expression.

“He didn’t say or do anything to make you uncomfortable, did he? Jin sometimes is a total asshole.”

“No, he—well, he said I looked different.”

“Do you want me to beat him up,” he steps forward to rest his hands on your shoulders. “Because I can, just say the word.”

“It’s really okay. He said it wasn’t just the weight. That it was something else.”

Yoongi’s lips thin as he tries to look for some other message in your words. “I don’t know what the hell that means.”

“It probably didn’t mean anything bad. Just let it go.”

Yoongi nods but takes both your hands in his to kiss them. You lead the way to the living room, feeling a little more like you can handle the night. There’s not much space with all seven members and you. You end up seated away from Yoongi, on the couch between Jungkook and Jin.

Somehow you get roped into playing some Mario game with two teams. You don’t know anything about video games, but you listen to Jungkook’s instructions carefully when you get one of the controllers because he’s one of your teammates. You’re not very good, though. Jin, your team captain, eventually has to maneuver his hands over yours so your character does the right thing.

“You sure you didn’t change your makeup style or something,” Jin asks during one of the rounds where you’re supposed to be playing against Hoseok.

The question takes you by surprise and you turn toward the sound of his voice only to realize just how close he is when he’s acting as a gaming coach of sorts.

“Uh, no. Why?”

“Dunno,” he doesn’t look at you while he converses with you. He’s watching the screen with a hawk-like focus. “You just look prettier than I remember.”

You stutter around nothing, not sure what to say. In the end you settle for saying nothing, though you do spare Yoongi a glance. His gaze must have already been directed at you because you make eye contact immediately. Knowing that he’s probably just making sure you’re having an okay time, you give him a thumbs up and attempt to make Kirby spin on the large screen in front of you.

The night stays that same level of odd. No one else does anything out of the ordinary, barring Jin. He’s strangely attentive even after you get the hang of playing enough to take full control of the controller. After that point, he still slings an arm across the back of the couch, which makes full contact with your shoulders because of how tightly packed you all are on the couch. And when he wants your attention, he makes a habit of brushing his hand down your arm and sometimes leaving it there.

You figure you just don’t spend enough time with Jin to get used to him. But you’ve seen enough interactions between him and the younger members to know how touchy-feely they are with each other. Maybe you’re just enough of an extension of Yoongi to be included in that touching. So you try your hardest not to question it. It’s just nice to know you've been accepted that much and you start to lean into the touch like you would with your own friends.

Soon enough you’re taking part in the high fives that melt into hand holding when you score a goal.

‘Quite a feat for a beginner’, Jin tells you.

Yoongi watches from across the room as your face lights up once again from Jin’s praise. You look like you’re having wholesome fun and the urge to interrupt that is what kills him. But what kills him more is the way Jin’s thumb strokes gently against the curve of your flank as he gestures to something on the screen while Jungkook takes a turn with the controller.

He didn’t think he was the jealous type, but when Taehyung orders pizza one painful hour later, Yoongi’s come to the realization that he’s much more selfish than he knew. Jin whines until you let him feed you a bite of the pepperoni pizza on his plate, knowing you’re too nice to say no. You think this is run of the mill behavior, but even Jimin raises his eyebrows at the display before peering at Yoongi’s furious profile.

The last straw, though, is when Jin wipes a trickle of grease from the corner of your mouth and waits until you’ve turned your head to say something to Jungkook before sucking the residue off. At that, Yoongi stands up abruptly, nearly toppling over the empty box that was near his knees.

“It’s getting late,” he answers the curious stares watching him trudge over to you. “We should head out now if we still want to get back to your place at a decent hour.”

“Oh,” your eyes are wide, “You don’t have to. I know you wanted to do your thing in the studio tomorrow. I should be fine on my own,” you hint back to the promise he made to stay over if the night was a bust.

“I changed my plans already, so I’ll go later in the week. Come on, let’s call a car and go.”

“I can drive you guys. I brought my car,” Jin offers suddenly. His arm is back to resting behind your shoulders. And because his fingers are close enough to graze your shoulder, they do.

“You really don’t have to,” Yoongi bites out. His stare is potent with silent accusation.

“Yoongi, why not? Jin’s place is across the bridge from mine. It actually makes some sense, and I was getting kinda tired. If we wait for a car, I might not be able to get up early enough to go to that brunch spot you mentioned.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jin claps his hands with finality and gets up from the couch before extending his hand out to you. Much to Yoongi’s chagrin, you take his hand like it’s a genuine gesture of chivalry.

Jin somehow manages to get you to sit up in the passenger’s seat with him, leaving Yoongi to fume in the backseat. Occasionally Jin’s eyes will meet his in the rear view mirror and they’ll crinkle with impish amusement before returning to caressing your silhouette.

“So,” Jin says once he gets on the freeway. “Is our Yoongi treating you good?”

You laugh because you don’t see the game at play. “Of course he is. He’s the best boyfriend I could have asked for.” Yoongi’s resolve softens momentarily at your sincere tone. “I love him, even when he gets weird like tonight.” That comment has Jin cackling.

“You know,” he says once his laughter dwindles down, “I actually had the flu the day of Yoongi’s party. The day you guys met.”

“That explains why I didn’t actually see you there. I remember everyone else being there, though.” You gaze wistfully out the window. “I was too shy to talk to any of you guys then.”

“That’s okay. If I had been there, I would have talked to you.”

“That would have been a fun night, I bet.”

“Yeah,” he makes sure Yoongi’s looking in the rearview mirror. “Who knows how close we’d be today if I hadn’t gotten sick.”

Yoongi’s cheek nearly bleeds with force of his teeth gnawing on the inside. If he could, he’d reach forward and throttle Jin. But he’s driving so that’s not an option.

The torture doesn’t last much longer because about 10 minutes later you’re directing Jin to the parking garage of your apartment complex. The goodbyes are annoyingly drawn out and Jin manages to invite himself to brunch the next morning. All the while, Yoongi stands behind you, dying to get inside and away from the eldest member.

Finally, the door gets slammed shut before Jin can say something stupid about seeing you both tomorrow. Yoongi gives the door a smug look and then turns to catch a flash of your eyebrows raised in amusement. His eyes narrow and he approaches you slowly as you shrug off your layers in an almost too mundane way.

“What’s so funny,” he drawls. He attempts to peer at your face only for you to keep whipping it away every time he gets too close.

“Nothing,” you turn and give him your back while you smooth over your already made bed. “It’s just interesting watching you with Jin. I never really get to see you guys together.”

“What’s interesting about it?”

Yoongi starts unbuttoning his own outer layers with painstaking care, giving you ample time to twitch under the weight of his gaze. You fight to keep a smile from sneaking onto your face, but it’s too hard and you let your lips turn up in a little grin. He can’t see it, but he can hear it in your voice.

“You’re just cute when you’re mad.”

A muscle in Yoongi’s jaw jumps.

“You noticed that I was mad, huh?” He shirks off his jacket roughly, sulking in his subtle way. Luckily—or perhaps not luckily—you’ve come to recognize it well.

“I did.” Your voice is high and steady as you remove your sweater, leaving you in a soft and worn t-shirt. “I’ll admit it was entertaining. A little bit.”

“Is that so?” He hums.

“I mean, I don't know what you were mad about. But I could tell it wasn’t about something serious.”

He merely nods and watches you fidget. You peer at him through the side of your eye and see him meticulously undoing the clasp of his watch. From the way he moves slowly through the process of undressing for bed, you can tell something’s coming.

“Let me ask you something, then.”

“O-okay.”

“Is Jin still your favorite?”

“Are you kidding?”

You have to stop hunting for pajamas at your dresser and turn to him to see if he’s in fact kidding. But he looks dangerously serious, and you have to fight to keep your eyes from rolling.

“That’s what this is about? All this sulky Yoongi is because of that?”

“Just answer the question,” he shrugs his shoulders lightly.

Supposedly he’s calm and collected and not jealous, but his eyes are sharp as they zero in on you. Easily, he pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on. The steps he takes toward you are measured and slow. You still find yourself holding your breath as he comes to sit benignly on the bed across from you. It’s something he does sometimes when you’re getting dressed or undressed. Because ‘he likes the view’, he usually says. But tonight it makes you grab the first thing that you find out of your pajama drawer so you’re not leaving your back vulnerable.

“Of course he’s not my favorite anymore. I haven’t felt that way since before we got together.”

“I was just wondering.”

“Yoongi,” you sigh and pull the old t-shirt off to replace it with a sleep shirt. “When you asked me who my favorite was half a year ago I didn’t realize you were flirting with me. And I didn’t really know much about the group either.”

He nods like he thinks what you’ve said is completely reasonable and you stuff your legs through some of your yoga pants roughly. When you finish, you’re still standing defensively on the other side of the room. He looks up at you and beckons you over without a word. You feel compelled to move forward. Unsure of what would happen if you didn’t humor him.

When you’re finally approaching the V of his parted legs, he motions for you to sit next to him on the bed. You do.

“You know,” he begins slowly, “You looked like you were having a great time tonight.”

“Oh,” you blink. “Yeah, I was having fun. Even though it took a while for me to win a round. And even then I think Hoseok might have let me win.”

“Was Jin a good teacher?”

“Yeah, he was a good teacher.”

“I bet he was. He had a good student. He looked like he was enjoying himself.”

“Maybe,” you tap your finger on your chin pensively. “It didn’t seem like he hated having to show me how to play.”

“No, trust me, he was enjoying it.” Yoongi’s tone dips audibly, and you stop yourself when you realize what he’s implying.

“God, Yoongi, stop it. It wasn’t like that. He was just being nice.”

“I’ve known Jin a long time. I know what he looks like when he’s flirting. It started as soon as you walked through the door.”

“That’s crazy,” you mumble. But then you think of all the lingering touches and glances again and it clicks. “He...he was probably just trying to rile you up. Jin likes to mess with people sometimes. You’re always saying that.”

Yoongi pins you with an odd look. It’s partly amused, partly pitying. Then it turns cold. “You know, Jin’s been sweet on you since I first introduced you. The first night you met, he told me he used to date someone who looked a bit like you when he was younger, before debuting.”

“Oh my god,” you whisper again.

“You really didn’t know?” Yoongi leans in so the words practically brush against the skin of your cheek. “He was shoving himself all over you the whole night and you didn’t notice?”

You shake your head, at a loss for words. His hand finds its way to your opposite arm, pulling you closer to him.

“Hmm,” he hums in acknowledgment.

Then Yoongi’s lips are pressing gently to the skin of your neck. There’s a hint of something in the kisses that makes them feel a bit too heated to be chaste. At first you think it’s gratitude, but when you turn your head to meet his lips with your own, it’s clear that it’s not just that. His tongue snakes in between your lips, and you let it happen as you turn the evening’s events over in your memory.

“Yoongi,” you whisper between kisses.

“Hmm?” His large hands are splayed low over the swell of your back, a pinky finger just barely dipping under the waistband of your pants.

“I think I did know.”

“Huh?”

“I think as soon as he said that thing in the car—about being in your place—I knew he wasn’t just being friendly anymore.”

“Yeah?” he mumbles against your lips.

Taking you by surprise, he pushes deeper into your mouth until he’s stealing your breath. His lips are plush but insistent. And you’re conflicted. But suddenly he’s pulling away with a damp mouth and a firm grasp on your hip.

“You knew and made me sit through all that and then invited him to brunch in front of me?” He nips at your lax mouth. “That’s not very nice.”

“I know,” you sigh.

“Don’t you think you should be punished, then?” When you pull away looking like he’s grown a second head, he shrugs mildly and like he didn’t just threaten to take you over his knee. “Or not. Your choice.”

#bangtan bookclub #networkbangtan #yoonginetwork #hyunglinenetwork #btswriters #yoongi imagines #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fanfic #bangtan scenarios #bangtan imagines #bangtan fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic

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octaviadblake · 5 years

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Ὀδύσσεια + τό ἑκᾰτόν

OR The Odyssey + The 100, an in-depth look at parallels to Homeric canon in season 6, and how the themes and motifs present on Sanctum mirror Odysseus’s 10-year journey back to Ithaca.

DISCLAIMER: I was a Russian Lit major, not a Classics major, so I’m not an expert on this. I did study Ancient Greek and Ancient Greek Drama for 6 and 2 semesters in college, respectively, though, but my expertise is more on The Iliad than The Odyssey so just...cut me some slack lol

If you’re not down for this 2.7k word mini-dissertation, here’s your chance to turn back.

So for those of you who don’t know me, I’m a major Classics nerd. I studied The Iliad in the original in college (and yes, I will be writing a series of metas about how s1-5 are The Iliad so keep an eye out for that), but The Odyssey remains, arguably, Homer’s most prolific epic. I’ve never parsed the text in the original, so I’m not going to be doing any sort of text-to-quote analysis because I think using a translation would be a disservice to the text (major Classics nerd. cannot stress this enough.), but I’m gonna be doing a rundown of all the major stops on Odysseus’s journey and how The 100 has mimicked each and every one of those stops in season 6 thus far.

Still reading? Cool, let’s do this thing.

Some of you may have already read my theory on the anomaly and how I think what lies inside is something like the Island of the Lotus Eaters. If you haven’t read it, you can check it out here, but brief summary: the Lotus Eaters is the first stop Odysseus and his crew make. The Lotus plant is so entrancing that it makes people forget all about their lives outside the island and coerces them to stay there, stuck in a sort of opiate-like blissed out haze of chillness for the rest of their lives, and I think that may be what’s happening in the anomaly, not time travel like others have theorized. Cool, moving on.

The next stop of Odysseus’s journey is the island of Polyphemus, the cyclops who intends to eat him and his men.

(Giulio Romano, Polyphemus)

They manage to escape when Odysseus (using the fake name of “Nobody”) blinds Polyphemus and they hide under the bellies of his sheep in order to avoid detection as they escape his cave.

Let’s think, how does this relate to our heroes? What’s happening right now on the show, going into episode 6x12?

(gif credit: @commander-anya)

Clarke is pretending to be Josephine in order to blindside the Primes and help her people escape.

In The Odyssey, this is a continuation of the theme of “hosting” or “guest-friendship” (a term I’m borrowing from wikipedia since I’ve been out of school for over a year and don’t feel like actually thinking for this pseudo literary analysis). We saw this with the Lotus-Eaters, and we see it again with Polyphemus. But the Cyclops is a bad host. So are the Primes.

Polyphemus’s host gift to Odysseus is that he tells him he’ll eat him last. He won’t spare him, but he’ll give him longer to live than the rest of his men. One of the drawbacks, is that means Odysseus is going to watch all of his people die, one by one, until he meets his demise.

God, how many times have Clarke and Bellamy watched their people suffer? And now the Primes have a way to make nightblood. They’ve turned Echo into a nightblood. Who’s next? Presumably all of them, one by one, until all the Primes are brought back to life. And with Clarke masquerading as Josephine, how many of her people is she going to watch be tortured? How many might she lose in tonight’s episode and in next week’s episode before they manage to beat the Primes and escape? How much have they lost? How much more must they lose?

We also get our first hint of the theme of “cunning over strength” (a term I’m borrowing from SparkNotes because, again, I really don’t feel like putting more effort into this than I already am lmfao) at this point in The Odyssey. Odysseus devises a plan to escape the Cyclops that involves very little violence compared to the blood-soaked battles that we saw in The Iliad. Rather than brute force, he uses his cunning to escape.

Clarke is going in as Josephine. She's not going for brute force. She’s not barging in with an army (that part comes later). This move is pure Clarke, all head. Going with the most cunning plan, not the most direct, not the most violent, the most strategic.

Clarke Griffin is Odysseus.

GODDAMN IM LOVING THIS. I digress.

The next major plot point in The Odyssey is Odysseus running into Aeolus, the god of the winds.

(source unknown by me, but this image is public domain)

He gives Odysseus a bag containing the four cardinal winds which, when opened at the right time, will send him straight home to Ithaca. His men think that the bag secretly contains a treasure that Odysseus is hoarding for himself and they open the bag, releasing the winds, and sending their ship even further off course than before, prolonging their journey.

I stumbled over this one for a second because it could be a few different moments in season 6. Gabriel giving Clarke info on how to take down the Primes? No, where’s the sabotage there? Murphy attempting to help Josephine to get mind drives for him and Emori? No, he ends up doing the right thing and puts them on the right track. Spacekru & friends devising a plan to defeat the Primes and Madi attacking them, sending them off the proverbial course? Hmm, sounds about right.

To make this easier for me, let’s call Bellamy, Echo, Emori, Murphy, Jordan, Miller, and Madi Spacekru 2.0. Well, they’re trying to make their plan to “work with” the Primes so they can get a compound, a home, for them and their people. But Madi is the crew to Spacekru 2.0′s Odysseus. She has her own agenda. She wants the treasure, she wants her revenge.

She attacks the Primes, releases the winds as it were, and all hell breaks loose.

(gif credit: @bellamyblakepositivity)

They’re thrown off course. How will they ever get their compound now? How will they get their home?

[Fun etymology fact break: Homecoming is stylized in The Odyssey as “νόστος” (nostos), when an epic hero returns home via voyage by sea, aka the MAIN theme in this epic. We get the word “nostalgia” from nostos, mixed with άλγος (algos) which means pain. Nostalgia is the pain of yearning for the past or for home. Is nostalgia/homecoming not one of the key themes of The 100? Is it not one of the key themes of The Odyssey? (also you could probably write an analysis of how nostos is a hero returning by sea and the way that space and the sea are often visually/metaphorically compared, the way you navigate both domains in a ship, the way you have an odyssey and a space odyssey....but that’s a discussion for another time)]

Next up on the journey? Aeaea, Circe’s island.

(gif credit: ? if anyone knows, hmu so i can give credit please!)

Circe was a witch who turned men into animals (mainly pigs in The Odyssey, but in another myth, into a woodpecker, which isn’t relevant, I just think it’s funny). Here we get the motif of transformation and false appearances, a continuation of the Nobody plot, and a motif that we also see with the Primes taking over other people’s bodies, constantly transforming their appearances.

While climbing a mountain to reach Circe’s palace, Hermes points Odysseus to a plant which will make him immune to Circe’s transformation magic. Why does this sound familiar......

The neural mesh in Clarke’s head gives her resistance to the mind drive allowing her consciousness to survive the “transformation.”

Like the Island of the Lotus Eaters (and the anomaly) Circe has the ability to manipulate the passage of time, or rather, the perception of the passage of time. Odysseus loses quite a significant amount of time trapped on her island. (It’s not actually 5 years, the mini-series fudged that bit a little since Homer never specifies how long it is, but I’ll forgive you, The Odyssey mini-series, because I love you so very much that I cried when I found you on DVD in a tiny Wal-Mart in the backwoods of Tallahassee two years ago)

We also get another look at the complicated theme of guest-friendship on Circe’s island. She is, quite simply, a terrible host. She traps Odysseus’s men, just like the Primes trap Spacekru 2.0. Odysseus frees them. It’s on Clarke to free her people from the terrible hosts that are the Primes. There’s a joke in there about the Primes bodies being hosts to the mind-drives. Anyway.

Odysseus’s next stop is the land of the dead. He descends into Hades (a very perilous feat) to talk with the blind prophet Tiresias. He also talks to Anticlea, his deceased mother.

My god, if that stop isn’t exactly 6x07 Nevermind.

Clarke talks to Jake Griffin, and tells him she thinks she’s dead, she’s ready to give up, she’s ready to let go. Odysseus tells Anticlea he feels the gods are against him, his journey is fruitless, he’ll never make it home. I don’t think that parallel could be more obvious if it punched you in the face.

I think maybe Monty is Tiresias in this scenario, giving Clarke advice and helping her navigate the mindspace so she can send a message to Bellamy that she’s alive which will give her the advantage of having an ally on her side. Odysseus promises Tiresias he’ll make a sacrifice to him once he gets back into the world of the living bc the dead feast on blood or something like that, but that’s like Clarke promising Monty she’ll do her best to continue to honor his challenge to her to do better. So cool. Love it.

(gif credit: @janemichaels)

Thematically, this mimics the theme of “testing” that’s present in The Odyssey (thank wikipedia again for helping me on this one lmao). You get Odysseus’s men’s loyalty being tested, and you get Odysseus’s identity itself being tested.

Clarke is tested when she is faced with the option of giving up and letting go. Spacekru 2.0 (and particularly Murphy and Emori) are tested when they learn Clarke is gone, then learn she’s alive. Will they be loyal enough to her to save her? Hint: yes, obviously, because Spacekru 2.0 is way better than Odysseus’s crew. Will Clarke decide to push forward and fight for her life? Hint: yeah, duh, because she’s just as badass as Odysseus.

Next comes the sirens.

Odysseus’s ship sails through the isle of the sirens, whose song lures sailors to their deaths. Odysseus makes his men stuff their ears with beeswax so they won’t be tempted by the song, but he ties himself to the mast, wanting to hear it. I kinda struggled with this one, but then I realized, at this point, we’re not looking at Clarke as Odysseus.

We’re looking at Octavia as Odysseus.

Octavia is faced with her greatest fear. She ends up running into the anomaly after Diyoza. If I’m right about the anomaly being sort of the Lotus Eaters, then we could assume that the anomaly holds Octavia’s deepest desires; that might have been what she’d have seen if she’d chosen the green box. She hears the call, and resists. The temptation and the overcoming thereof.

I think that’s clear enough, so I’m gonna skip ahead to the passage between Scylla and Charybdis.

Earlier, Circe had warned Odysseus of this choice he would have to make. Choose the 6-headed monster on the left and lose at best, 6 of his men. Choose the whirlpool on the right, and lose them all.

[Sidenote: how interesting is it that the anomaly is associated with a spiral shape, mimicking that of a whirlpool? Should we believe that if they enter the anomaly it is, in fact, certain death that awaits them? Or is it a metaphoric whirlpool, and they’re just being sucked in, never to return to their original mission of returning home (*cough* Lotus Eaters again *cough*)?]

(gif credit: @aryastarktheshewolf)

So I think this choice is reminiscent of Octavia’s choices of the red box versus the green box. Presumably, face her greatest fears or her deepest desires. She chooses the red box. Better to face her fears and risk dying that way than face her desires (the same green of the anomaly anyone??) and risk getting sucked in like Diyoza was, never to return.

She never saw her deepest desires in the forest (from what we saw) so it makes sense that she would choose the red box. She knows she can escape her fears. Blodreina no more. But if she faces her desires, who’s to say she could ever turn back?

(gif credit: @daeneryskairipa)

Cool cool, so freaking cool, I love these parallels so much, y’all.

Now we get to explore the most Prime-like example of “guest-friendship” in The Odyssey.

Ogygia. Calypso’s island.

[Fun etymology fact break: “Kαλύπτω” (kalupto), the word that lends its root to Calypso’s name, means “to conceal” or “to deceive.” Calypso is “the one who conceals,” she’s “the deceiver.” “Ὠγύγιος” (ogugios), which lends its meaning to Ogygia, means “primeval” or “primal.” The Primes...the first settlers of Sanctum...the ones from the earliest ages (another interpretation of the word). The Primes, the deceivers. The Primes, the primeval ones. Hmmm.]

(screencap from The Odyssey mini-series, 1997. btw, Vanessa Williams will ALWAYS be Calypso in my mind)

Calypso offers Odysseus a home on Ogygia, but he will have to abandon his dream of returning to Ithaca, to his home, to his wife, Penelope, and to his son, Telemachus. She actually prevents him from leaving for seven years (more warped passage of time a la the anomaly), effectively keeping him prisoner. But he wants for nothing there. He is fed and clothed and bathed and sheltered.

Our heroes are offered a home on Sanctum, but it’s not all it appears. It’s not the paradise they’re lead to believe it to be. They’re deceived.

[EDIT: Leah @braveprincess offered an interesting take on Calypso, which I absolutely HAVE to share with y’all:

Anyway, let my rant continue]

In order to stay, they must sacrifice Clarke, Madi too, and well, now, all of their people the Primes want to make into nightbloods. They’re prisoners in Sanctum. They can’t leave, not only because the Primes won’t let them, but because what awaits them is the Children of Gabriel and the mysteries of this new planet. Their best chance at survival is with the Primes. But that also means compromising and losing people they refuse to be without.

Bellamy is Odysseus now. Clarke is his Penelope.

(gif credit: @bellarkedaily)

He won’t negotiate with the Primes. He won’t sacrifice Clarke. Shut up, I’m not crying, you’re crying.

Athena asks Zeus to intervene, so he sends Hermes to tell Calypso she must release Odysseus. Odysseus leaves to continue the next, and last, part of his journey. His return home.

Bellamy leaves Sanctum to save Clarke. Once he has her back, they can continue their final journey, building a home on this new world. Or so we hope.

But who knows? We haven’t seen the finale yet. Maybe they’ll stay on this world. Maybe not.

Some people have been theorizing that they’ll return to Earth (via time travel or whatever it is, which I don’t really buy but whatever), which would be a really nice conclusion to the theme of nostos, but the problem with that is right now, there is no Earth to return to. Nostos only works if there’s a home to go back to. And that home, usually, must be unchanged from when the hero left to fit into the proper meaning of the word.

So, what would be the best way for The 100 to get our heroes back to Earth to fulfill this Odyssey-esque narrative that they (probably unwittingly) have set up?

SEND ‘EM INTO THE ANOMALY!

Let them chill there, enjoy a little bit of paradise, let time pass super fast in the outside world while it passes normally for them, let Earth recover, and send ‘em back. But that bit is more of a pipe dream than anything else and I doubt that’s what they’ll do. I’m not a big fan of most anomaly theories, but I think that could be a cool one. Who knows.

Anyway, that’s all I have for today. Next week post-finale, I’ll probably work through the rest of The Odyssey, with Odysseus’s return to Ithaca, defeating the suitors, and winning his wife back, if all goes to plan with beating the Primes. So if you liked this (admittedly rambling half-cocked mini thesis paper), keep an eye out for that one.

After this season, I’m gonna be doing a series on how seasons 1-5 are actually The Iliad, so if you wanna scream about Classics & The 100 with me, just drop a line in my ask :)

#the 100 meta #meta #the 100 #the100meta #the 100 spoilers #the 100 is homer and you cant convince me otherwise #my transliterated greek is ancient greek pronunciation not modern greek #so dont @ me about that lmao ik upsilons are different in modern #i hope u enjoyed and uhhhh come yell with me about classics

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