#sound pillar you sounding pretty petty

[smoke-and-silver]

The Ghouls + Rut Season

Headcanons of the Ghouls in rut, as requested! This is for the current + recent ghouls. Happy to do previous eras upon request.

General / All characters:

Ghouls get a shiny horn upgrade just before rut: the outer layers shed as the horns grow bigger . You'll see them rubbing against things and polishing their horns a lot during this time as the outer layers flake off to reveal new horn underneath.

The ghouls are feverish and hot their entire cycle as the rut raises their body temperature.

There's a lot of tussling as their hormones have them clacking horns and sparring like deer. Some brawls can look or sound scary to humans, but it's all in good fun to them. They're just roughhousing to show off.

That's just within the pack, though. If someone outside of the ministry makes a move on their desired mate, it can get pretty gnarly.

Ghouls under the cut. Obviously NSFW.

Aether

The most subtle. A bit flushed and clammy but otherwise you wouldn't guess anything had changed.

It's very easy for him to get distracted, though. You give him a quick hug at breakfast and his cereal bowl is abandoned as he follows after you with his tail flicking.

Quintessence ghouls have a hazy scent during rut, like dark amber. Aether is the most fond of scenting. He does it every time you're canoodling in some secluded corner of the cathedral. He's not possessive, but he likes knowing that the other ghouls smell him on you.

He does get more protective. He's territorial of the ministry, marking the outside pillars with his horns to warn other demons away. Some unfamiliar men visit on business, and he chokes back an instinctual growl that starts to rise from his throat when he sees them shaking hands with you.

He doesn't spar much. One, because he's not generally aggressive, and two, because he's very large, and the other ghouls hesitate to challenge him.

It's an evening in the main hall when he finally flexes a bit. The heat in his veins is getting to him as he watches you from across the room, and a petty spat between two other ghouls is getting loud and irritating.

The demons bump your chair roughly in their scuffle and Aether has had enough. He buts in with his horns and growls at them to "knock it off". His voice is about two octaves deeper than usual. The surprised ghouls stumble back, and then slink away sheepishly.

Well, naturally you want to show your gratitude after that very attractive display, and the room is empty now...

Aurora

The MOST likely to brawl. Her claws are already rated E for Everyone and during rut it's amped up to 11. She'll tussle with anyone. Sometimes she'll sneak up to another ghoul and nip at them just to instigate it.

Remember that it's mostly just play to them. Nothing to worry about. She does LOVE to show off for you though, and is usually the one victorious.

If she were seriously fighting someone you would know, as real threats or serious challengers are quickly cowed by one of her deafening lion-like roars.

She's like a furnace during rut. You can feel the warmth coming off her. Her cheeks are constantly ruddy like she's just ran a mile.

Utterly insatiable. Most every night she's at your door tapping and scratching at it with her claws until you let her in. If she's feeling extra romantic she'll come in through the window instead.

[gore/bloody] Girl will straight up present her defeated opponents to you. The ministry has many enemies and she has much less restraint during rut. She has absolutely presented you with a severed head like a cat leaving a dead bird at its owner's feet.

You can't even help with congregation without seeing her in the pews, waiting to pounce the moment the sermon is over. She waves at you cheekily when you meet her eyes.

Don't think she's not tender! She's incredibly sweet with you every time you make love--and she insists on calling it that, "making love".

When you're not getting hot and heavy she's still locking lips with you. You've both been caught and scolded multiple times for making out when you're supposed to be working. She just needs to feel your hands on her during rut and, you're not opposed to all the extra attention.

Cirrus

Not interested in sparring or wrestling with anyone. Brawling doesn't interest her and if someone threatens you or the ministry she's just going for the throat. There's not much "challenge" to it.

Although... if you seem interested when the other ghouls spar, if she feels like it'll impress you or make you happy... well, she'll do it just to see you get all excited and aroused.

She kind of "takes care of" herself at first, not wanting to burden you with her heightened libido. When you assure her that you can handle it though, all bets are off. She pauses for a moment and starts stepping towards you, backing you against the wall right then and there...

She likes to mark you the most out of everyone. You are absolutely littered with hickeys and lovebites. She thinks it's so pretty to see you laid out naked in front of her with all of her marks on you. It's an added bonus if someone else gets to see it peeking out from your clothes, too.

She likes a little more ceremony to her 'mating' than most ghouls in their delirious lusty ruts, often bringing something to present you with before she drags you off for some privacy, even if it's something as simple as a rose.

But some nights, some nights it all reaches a boil--the hormones, the heat, your scent still clinging to her sheets--and she simply goes feral. She crawls into your bed and takes you wildly, no words even forming on her lips, just deep growls and broken, guttural infernal speech.

Cumulus

She doesn't typically initiate brawls but she's quite excited to participate in them and loves it when someone challenges her. They had better be prepared though because she is the most muscular ghoulette and knows how to use it.

She's especially excited to brawl when you're around and it gives her a chance to impress you. She'll stop mid-fight while she has her opponent pinned and gleefully wave to you, hoping that you're enjoying the show.

Yes, she flexes for you. Everything in her system right now is telling her to impress you and she takes any chance to start removing her shirt to show you the guns.

Oh man, this stage equipment is heavy and she's getting sooo hot moving it around!

Oh no, the windows needed a wash and her shirt is sooo wet! She can't possibly leave it on now.

Not very territorial or anything like some of the others, but very eager to scent you. Her smell is like a spring breeze, like clover, and she loves to rub it on you whenever she can.

She's on you constantly. Doesn't care if you're in the middle of cooking or prayer, she's pulling you flush against her and purring raunchy things in your ear, giggling and nipping at your neck until she's convinced you to have some fun.

She's not private about it. Unless you would prefer otherwise, she likes to show you off right in front of the other ghouls, placing you on the counter right there so she can please you with her strong fingers.

Dewdrop

The poor man is downright feverish the entire cycle. He's flushed and breathing heavily and his hormones and sparring instincts make him snippy with the other males.

Oh, but he's so good for you. He melts into your touch when you hold his face in your hands as if it soothes all the fire in him.

As if he isn't lewd enough on a normal day, he's downright filthy during his rut. He has the most impure ideas for every piece of furniture in the cathedral and he relays them to you in detail.

You two are forcibly excused from mass when he starts feeling you up right in the middle of it. He'd let you have him right there in the aisle if you weren't opposed to it, onlookers be damned.

When you catch him jacking himself off he doesn't stop, he slows down a little to give you a show. He loves to do it while you're watching. You can give him a hand or just sit and watch, either way he's begging you to go further afterwards. He needs you inside of him or needs to be inside of you.

Not super territorial, but he does love sparring. Wrestling with a friend is a good way to blow off steam and he doesn't mind if he looks cool kicking someone's ass and manages to impress you.

It's really hard for him to focus on much else but you when he's flooded with hormones like this. He can't help it. All that's on his mind day and night is feeling you against him and burying himself inside of you.

But when he eats you out or sucks you off, that's when he really loses his mind. He's already so painfully horny and the scent of your sex totally overtakes him and makes his mind hazy. You're not leaving for the night.

Don't hold it against him if he's a little sappier than usual, or if his kisses are a little longer. It's not just about mating; rut makes him needy for comfort and attention too. It takes a lot of energy out of these ghouls, and often leaves them sore, so the extra comfort means a lot to him right now.

Mountain

Obviously the earth ghouls rut the most. The elk of the forest are where the term comes from. He sheds velvet from his horns during the season and the look of blackened demon blood dripping from horns is pretty sick.

His rack is hands down the most impressive and lets him stand up to even Aether in a duel. He is giddy if you compliment the horns, tail flicking around happily knowing his appearance pleases you.

The most territorial, the most willing to brawl, the most protective. Earth ghouls have the strongest rut instinct. It's hard for him to even see you talking to another ghoul without daydreaming about taking you right in front of them. The daydream gets him hard and flustered and he sheepishly approaches you to ask for some "help".

An incident occurs when a visiting diplomat kisses your hand and a hormone-fueled Mountain has him backed up to the wall in seconds, gnarly horns at the man's throat and growls rumbling from deep in the demon's chest.

You manage to soothe him by petting his chest and asking him to stand down. After a few moments he reluctantly releases the man, who scurries off.

His head clears and Mountain quickly apologizes, but honestly, it was the hottest thing ever, and you're pulling him in to make out. By the time the diplomat tattles about being "attacked by a demon" you've already backed Mountain into the nearest chair to ride him.

It's part of his mating display to show that he can provide. He'll lead you out into the woods where he's set up a spot to sit together and brought more food than you can eat, but he's eager to watch you eat it, fill up on it. He hopes if you're satisfied that you'll accept him and let him pleasure you.

Phantom

Poor, poor sweet boy. It hits him the hardest. He is absolutely the most sensitive. Even feeling up his arm or kissing his cheek a few times gets him worked up. Smile at him across the room long enough and he'll get hard, honestly.

He's embarrassed to approach you about it at first, so you'll have to encourage him. He's quite enthusiastic once you reassure him that you don't mind, though.

He finds it fun to engage in some of the sparring matches, but honestly he's kind of inexperienced in fighting and gets thrown around easily. He's such a good sport about it though and he's laughing most of the time, so it puts everyone in a good mood.

His scent is very subtle and his horns pretty simple and small, so he tries to groom himself really nicely, hoping you'll still enjoy his appearance. Maybe puts a little soft perfume or cologne on hoping it will help entice you.

Your scent makes him crazy. It distracts him instantly when you step into the room. He can track you down anywhere in the ministry, every instinct in his body driving him blindly towards the sweet smell. You don't really hear him come in and so you jump a little when his arms slip around you and he buries his face in your neck to breathe you in.

Please let him have you. His voice is low and breathy as he begs you to let him breed you, or to breed him. You feel so warm against him it makes his head swim. His hands are shyly nudging under your shirt as he tells you how badly he needs it.

His libido is highest at night, when the ministry falls quiet. He feels terrible keeping you awake but you're so pretty laid out on your bed with the silver moonlight from your window illuminating your soft body, and he's so painfully hard.

[kink/somno warning] He'd never think of the idea himself, but if you offered to let him relieve his urges while you sleep, he's so grateful. He worships your body with kisses, always cleans you up perfectly, and always showers you with praise and thanks the next morning.

Rain

Pretty flushed and sensitive during his rut, though not so much as Phantom. He's very pliant when you approach him, willing to let you pull him away somewhere or climb up on his lap any time you want.

Beware that he has the most endurance and he will overstimulate and breed the fuck out of you. He's sweet and passionate but there's an unavoidable mess after your long sessions. You both need a bath afterwards and he ends up taking you in there too.

He makes a good little love nest in his room and honestly just keeps you there the whole cycle if you'll allow it. You don't have to do a thing. He'll keep you fed and groom you and all you have to do is lay there and be his good baby and let him pleasure you.

Not much for the sparring like other ghouls but he likes to egg the others on mischievously. Sometimes he'll nip at someone while they're not looking and pin it on another ghoul. Then he'll use the ensuing brawl as a distraction to drag you off somewhere.

--and, sometimes that is literal. When his hormones are really raging he'll just throw you over his shoulder, or bind your hands with the nearest thing he can find and quite literally drag you away, while telling you everything he's about to do once you're secluded.

Your excited giggles and little squeals make his heart flutter.

He is just as excited when you take him just as roughly. You can tie his hands to the headboard and he's already squirming with an eager, breathy "yes, yes!" escaping his lips before you've even climbed atop him.

He is so vocal when you do sink down on his cock and ride him. You're so warm and he's so sensitive right now. He does not care who in the ministry hears his absolutely whorish moans.

Swiss

As if he wasn't already unhinged.

The way he writhes and ruts against the floor on stage? Imagine him flooded with demonic hormones and out of his mind horny.

Wait, that's still how he normally is. Imagine that doubled. Mans will literally grind against your leg like a dog.

He's dying to pleasure you, honestly. It's a common sight to see him on his knees in front of you, panting with his tongue out as he waits for you to ride his face. He wants to drown in the scent of your sex, squished between your thighs.

He is constantly hard, his cock straining against his pants almost 24/7. He'll start to calm down and then he catches your scent on the air and he's stiff again. He tries to wear looser clothes during rut.

Of course, he loves to spar. He's already rowdy on a daily basis, he loooooves when rut rolls around and he gets to roughhouse with the other ghouls. It's a very nice bonus that he gets to show off for you, naturally!

Which brings us to territorial instincts. Swiss is the farthest from aggressive usually, but his rut is strong enough that you get to see more of the truly ghoulish side of him. He's very growly with strangers coming near you. You've never seen that toothy grin twist into a snarl before, but you see it now when you're out in public and some man presses too close to you for Swiss' liking.

You don't think you've ever heard such a noise from him, such a deep and guttural growl, but it... really does something for you. You hurry him home, both for the public's safety and because you need to ride him. He is overjoyed to fulfill your request.

Cumming inside of you is already his favorite thing in the world, if and when you allow him. He will literally beg for it now, his face flushed, sweaty hair clinging to his skin, his voice hoarse. Please let him breed you.

#happy valentine's night to all the freaks still awake #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost the band #ghost band #aether ghoul #aurora ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #dewdrop ghoul #mountain ghoul #phantom ghoul #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul

[theemporium]

hi!! i wanted to request an imagine with all the marauders doing stupid shit to try and compete for the new american transfer’s attention, and she’s extremely bold, sarcastic, and unbothered (bc i’m so tired of seeing y/ns who act like they’ve never had a single social interaction before 😭) and they have a like a bet going on to see who can get a yes from her first, oblivious to the fact that she’s dragging it out to watch them embarrass themselves more LMAO thank you so much 🙌🙌

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

“You know they are doing all this to impress you, right?” 

You couldn’t help the way your lips twitched in amusement as you tore your eyes away from the sight in front of and instead turned to look at the redhead settled on the bench next to you. 

“Of course I do,” you answered with a playful scoff. “But who said I can’t have my own fun with it?” 

Lily snorted, a bashful but bold sound. “You’re driving them mad, babe.” 

“But it’s so funny to watch,” you said with a faux pout before you turned back to look at the boys. 

The second you walked through the doors of Hogwarts, the boys were absolutely besotted by you. Maybe it was the pretty smile or the gorgeous face or maybe it was the fact you had all but scoffed at some petty, pureblood wizards who tried introducing themselves to you and snorted when another tried to tell you off for breaking some silly little school rule within the first twenty-four hours since you stepped inside the castle. 

But from that second on, you had held the hearts of the school’s beloved marauders in your hand, for better or for worse. 

“What are they even trying to do this time?” Marlene asked as she approached the two of you, her hands braced on the bench as she tilted her head at the scene in front of her, trying to work out just what she was actually looking at. 

It wasn’t unusual for the boys to go out of their way to gain your attention, you had truly seen it all. From James whooshing past you on his broom after he scored in a quidditch match, calling out your name and honouring the goal to you, to Sirius dancing on the table top in the Great Hall to cheer you up as he serenade you with your favourite song, to Remus all but blurting out random little jokes during class to try and gain your attention. 

It was cute and it warmed your heart. Now, though, you were slightly worried their recent antic would end with the three boys in months’ worth of detention.

“I honestly don’t know,” you murmured honestly, your brows furrowed in confusion as you watched the boys zip about. 

“Are those…muggle fireworks?” Lily murmured with a frown. 

“Muggle fireworks? How different are they to ours?” you asked, briefly glancing at the redhead. 

“Very different,” she snorted, shaking her head. “I didn’t think any of them knew how to set them off. It’s not like ours, it’s not a simple spell.” 

You tilted your head. “Is that why Sirius has his lighter?” 

“Probably, but you still have to—“ 

BOOM!

All eyes turned to look at the massive chunk that was now gone from a row of pillars leading out into the courtyard. And just as quickly as people sought out the chaos, their heads twisted around to find the boys standing there, sheepish and flustered at the lacklustre performance they just put on for you. 

“POTTER! BLACK! LUPIN!” 

You snorted as their eyes widened at McGonagall's voice booming through the whispers and hushed voices, all three of them scrambling to fix their mess. For the infamous marauders, they got quite sloppy when they were around you. 

“Better run, boys!” you called out to them, a massive grin on your face. “Wouldn’t want my favourite boys in detention.” 

“Your favourite boys?” Sirius repeated, a grin growing on his face. 

“You heard what I said, Black,” you retorted, watching as the boy only shook his head in amusement. 

“We won’t get detention, darling,” Remus assured you, a flush to his cheeks that made him look a little younger than usual, a lot more carefree too. 

“Good, we have a date on Saturday,” you called out casually. 

All three boys halted in their steps but it was James who spoke. 

“Which one?” he asked, something like a glimmer of hope in his eyes. 

But your grin only widened. “Who said anything about only one of you?”

.

#poly!marauders #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #marauders #harry potter #hp #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders oneshot #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fic #remus lupin oneshot #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black fic #sirius black one shot #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter fic #james potter oneshot #marauders x reader #marauders x you #marauders x y/n

[animeyanderelover]

Can you write this same request?

Her ability cannot be stolen, and she has problems with this ability as everyone and everything freezes when s/o feels angry or panicked

With Chrollo , Hisoka , Pakunoda , Uvogin , Phinks , nobunaga , machi , Feitan and Shalnark

Thank you 🌷

A careful attempt to slowly start writing again, though my writer bloackade still hasn't been lifted completely yet so expect slow posts.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, paranoia, overprotective behavior, manipulation, gaslighting, guilt-tripping, stalking, sadism, masochism, clinginess, touchiness, isolation

Frozen uncontrollably

Hisoka Morow

🃏As petty as this may sound, Hisoka is huffy about this entire situation he finds himself in and partially with you as well. Why you may ask? Because what a waste, oh, what a waste of talent, of power this is. What he wouldn't give to fight his darling for once, to experience their power, stunning and deadly at the same time. Mere snippets of your ability are alreadly as capturing as it is, just imagining what you would be capable of if you weren't restricted by your emotions. He could obviously force his s/o, he could choose to not care. In the end Hisoka still finds himself doing exactly that, not to mention that what he would currently get isn't what he seeks in a fight, especially with the person he loves, even admires. The experience of being in control of one's Nen ability and the joy of a fantastic fight are things he would love to introduce his darling to.

🃏Even if he is not exactly someone who possesses teacher material, he ends up doing exactly that. His own emotions are confused about his newfound infatuation with s/o so it's open for discussion if he really is the right person to help his s/o with her fear and how to circulate her feelings the right way, let him try his best though. Whether he likes it or not, most likely not, Hisoka finds himself having to grow more thoughtful about his every action. This leads to him toning his overall attitude down, he's not leaving this world nor will he give up without having tasted the ice-cold honey in a fight with s/o. If his darling is ever going to learn how to control her powers, he will find himself pretty much laying at her feet, ecstatic and utterly in love with her ice powers and the darling herself.

Chrollo Lucilfer

📖Chrollo is a Yandere who informs himself well about his little spider darling and the whole Phantom Troupe is going to help him with this. Loyalty is a trait shared among all of them after all, alongside with respect for their boss. But we all now what kind of guy Chrollo is under that friendly, charismatic and gentlemanly mask of his, don't we? Gaslighting, controlling and possessive and if something starts causing troubles in regards of him having his s/o, he won't stop until he has removed said problem. But with you holding such an utterly terrific ability which you can't use properly, problems start arising which can't be as simply solved as just killing someone. Obviously Chrollo can adjust himself better to your situation than Hisoka can, Chrollo simply has learned what people need in regards of emotional support to feel safer, to calm down.

📖He does not mind this at all, if he were to become an emotional pillar, the sole one, it would give him an immense advantage. There's probably no need to worry about too many other contacts besides him as well, it would be safe to assume to avoid hurting or endangering others, you already chose to stay somewhere without many people around. If he could just steal your ability, everything would be fine. He would gain a mind-blowing new Nen ability, could finally take you and you would be free from your constant anxiety and fear. It's an option, coaxing you into willingly giving him your powers, to do everything to fulfill the conditions he needs to steal someone's ability. It must be painful after all, living with the knowledge that you might hurt innocent people, people you care about simply because you have a power you can not control.

Feitan Portor

☠️Oh now, this is going to be interesting. How would Feitan deal with this, a short man who is a literal sadist and goes through a pure stage of denial which would normally end with him kidnapping and torturing the soul out of you? He's pissed, simply just pissed and he rather ends up blaming it on his s/o since they're literally always at fault for everything regarding his confusing emotions. His logic, don't argue with him about it. Feitan collects his fair amount of informations and data on you through a longer time simply stalking. A problem as huge as yours can't possibly be hidden from him and his predator eyes, it's pointless. What exactly irritates him though? Maybe because emotions were never his to begin with, he remains apathetic to the only reason why you are not able to fully control your powers.

☠️Weak, it's pathetically weak in his eyes, your reason not stable at all for him. Feitan also hates his darling being difficult and causing him hitches of any sort and this is a rather huge hitch. And it's literally the only reason why he hesitates to abduct his darling, able to rationalize the immense dangers that are destined to occur with him as her Yandere. He would love to be just like "fuck this shit, I'm out of here", but it's not as easy as that. He doesn't even know how to help, the only thing he ends up doing is keeping people away who could end up being potential trigger. Other members might notice the worse mood surrounding him, it's up to question whether he'll answer if someone asks him though. Eventually he realizes that he has to do something though, so he swallows his pride and ends up asking someone who can help for advice. No qualms if Chrollo would be interested in taking your power.

Shalnark

📱This man is going to be thoroughly with his research on his darling as soon as she has managed to fully earn his interest. Despite sweet appearance and equally sweet behavior to his s/o, she should not be fooled. Shalnark is devious and gaslighting, his intentions everything except pure. He's hypocritical, his own delusions letting him believe the complete opposite of what is the truth. His poor and cute little angel has to suffer daily from her Nen ability which she is able to control, has to resort to living all alone to avoid hurting someone and rumors only add fear and suspicion to people when they see her. This situation is something that elicts anger from Shalnark's side since he loathes when someone hurts you, but if it serves to his advantage he tends to be only the tiniest bit merciful. With his sudden entrance he will look out to present himself in a bright and kind light, be only loyal and kind to you.

📱 All whilst manipulating and gaslighting you into believing that you only need him. Other people around him will be used as puppets to increase his influence and manipulation, to force you to run back to him so he can keep you safe mentally and emotionally from an outburst. The blonde guy is smart and that will help him finding a good solution, he is not as dumb as to risk having himself frozen if he were to kidnap you and drugs will only go that far. The best option is removing your ability and he's positive that his boss would have an interest in taking your ice power, problem is that there are some conditions required to snatch your special strength away. Shalnark is persistent though, you need him to protect you after all.

Phinks Magcub

👊The first one to have actual pure intentions to help without any sinister plans in the back of his mind like everyone before him so far. Phinks simply is going to be worried sick, less for his own safety than for his darling's safety and her well-being. Your Nen-ability might as well be a curse for you, you might even see it as that. Your powers are beautiful, he has seen that, but they're a double-edged sword at best as long as you haven't mastered them. Phinks is protective which is steaming from his own past and his current business, he wishes for darling to live a peaceful and quiet life. Instead you have to go through anxiety to hurt someone, constant isolation and on top of that you might have to deal with citizens who fear you, see you as a monster who could kill all of them.

👊How much he is seething with rage when he hears such cruel words yet when accompanying you he will have to hold back in order to not push your buttons and trigger you. He's sort of clueless how he is supposed to help the right way, being someone to guide you to your inner peace isn't his thing either. He doesn't avoid it so strictly like Feitan does at first though, he wants to help s/o after all. Give him his credit for trying to constantly cheer you up, searching for ways how you can learn to master your emotions in order to master your ice ability. Letting Chrollo take your powers is not an option for him, he would feel safer with the knowledge that you can always defend yourself in emergencies and your ability is far too stunning to give up on. As someone who won't be coaxed into kidnapping as long as nothing happens, Phinks can fully concentrate on working on different paths to help his darling.

Pakunoda

💘Pakunoda is a rather sane Yandere who also shows great care and love for her s/o so that's what she seeks out given darling's situation. Even upon meeting her for the first time, Pakunoda never showed any hostile or terrified reaction nor did she pressure her darling when noticing that she was a bit iffy, maybe even scared. Pakunoda gains her infatuation in a more "normal" way if you can call it that, she often met up with you and was also willing to do what she can to help you with your emotions which you couldn't stop from influencing your powers. Pakunoda is gentle and patient, you may call her a saint in your life, someone who isn't petrified of you because of your Nen abilities. Obviously she is no real angel, she took a few lives but at the very least for you, her dearest, she wants to do somehing good. She's, surprisingly or not suprisingly, good in what she does.

💘She has patience, calmness, soothing words and her gentle nature to help her darling learning how to keep emotions and ice ability separated from each other. There are no ill intentions in between her actions, her only goal being helping her darling leading a life without being chased by constant fear and having the means to protect herself. There are multiple things she has to worry about after all whenever she is away on missions or with the Phantom Troupe. Her as a spider staying in contact with you already endangers you, your abilities which either can cause people to fear you or to want to use or steal your powers only adds more flavor to all of this. She'd never let her paranoia get the better of her though, she's fairly reasonable and wants her s/o to lead a normal life unlike her own.

Machi Komacine

🪡Machi has her rough edges that are often shown, but she is not heartless at all and she proves that to you on multiple occasions. It already starts with the fact that she never truly feels scared of her darling or would call her a risk for everyone around her. Sure, she's the type who can pick up a sharper tone and harsher words right alongside with it, but she never does something that can end up triggering her darling. Instead she strives to assist you with your lack of control and like some other in here, she never has a hidden plan in mind. You know that she wants only the best for you, under her shell Machi truly hopes that you will be able to live your own life, free from fear lurking around in your mind. She's aware that she already endangers you with her presence if someone were to find out.

🪡She worries just as much about other people deciding to kill you for your powers which can serve as a catastrophe or to somehow make you a tool for their own plans. It would be from an incredible advantage if you could wheel your ice powers without lashing out and freezing everything and everyone around you. Her worries tend to always sit in the back of her mind, especially when she's away from you and wouldn't know if something would happen. She won't admit it that easily, but she respects and admires what you can do with your Nen, it's a gorgeous ability to have and she'll tell you when you feel like you're cursed because of it. Literally everything can be dangerous if it's used the wrong way, but if it's used the right way it enables someone to protect those they cherish. Similar to Pakunoda, she won't kidnap s/o unless something went very wrong.

Uvogin

🧠Uvogin...has good intentions for the most part as well, it's rather the way he decides to act that can lead to commotions and troubles here and there. Uvogin can be more overbearing if he feels like it and he remains somewhat oblivious to the possible discomfort that might do to you. It does not lay within what he intended to do, it's just the way he is and it could lead to s/o being pushed closer to losing the grip on her emotions. It wouldn't be as much of a problem if s/o would really live somewhere all alone to prevent casualities and death, but a real problem arrives the moment she lives near people and interacts with them. Uvogin is possessive, he's jealous and aggressive which is horrible because he won't really hold back to turn physical.

🧠Especially if people are aware of your abilities and decide to call you out in a negative way for it, they will successfully turn his wrath towards them. And I do have my doubts that it'll be ideal for your nerves if he were to start showing violent tendencies in public, it's the complete opposite to tell the truth. Even if he does it with the need to protect and avenge you, this will backfire terribly if you end up snapping. He has the purer spirit to help you though, whether he's good in what he does or not. But maybe the knowledge that you have someone who supports you and loves you is already good enough, love is a effective medicine after all. Actually would be willing to ask other spiders for advice, though in a more indirect way rather than being straightforward at first.

Nobunaga

🗡️He's quite similar to Pakunoda if someone were to ask me, both share quite a few things in common. The greatly caring aspect, the ability to not gain a wrong impression from rumors, people or your own claims to be dangerous and much more. Nobunaga only really wants his darling to be safe and to be happy with herself and possibly also him. Kidnapping her was never something that he really ever let his mind cross, he's opposed to the entire shape of the idea. His s/o should stay as far away from his own life and his business as she can, to heighten the chances for her to stay alive and have the normal life he seemingly was never destined to have. Nobunaga, even if still a criminal, is actually a good fit for a darling like this simply because he's sharp, learns fast which scenarios will trigger you and will act fast to keep such situations away from you.

🗡️And patience, his patience is something remarkable, he's prepared that the process of helping you might take a bit since feelings are a part of the human that can't be controlled as easily as some may think. It's not like he wants his s/o to turn into a professional fighter like Hisoka, her simply learning how to keep her powers under control and being able to use it for defense is enough. Frankly spoken, he enjoys your powers a lot, visually and in other aspects. He's patient enough to give people he sees as a risky company to have a good warning to stay away, to not harm you in any way. If they're smart, they'll stay away. If not, remember that Nobunaga won't be merciful if it comes to darling's safety.

#yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere hisoka #yandere hisoka morrow #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere feitan #yandere feitan portor #yandere shalnark #yandere phinks #yandere phinks magcub #yandere pakunoda #yandere machi #yandere machi komacine #yandere uvogin #yandere nobunaga

[nice-kill-tanaka]

🌄Hikaru + Tease Crush🌌

Summary: Aaaa idk tsundere hikaru brain go brrrrrr,.

A/N: Lowkey, I’m not too sure about this one. But, how good it is comes down to how well it’s received by you guys. It’s in your hands now tumblr!!

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🌗Hikaru Hitachiin🌗

You, a new second year at Ouran Middle School, happened to meet Hikaru and Kaoru in a once in a blue moon situation

✨Separately✨

You and your parents were commoners from another region of Japan. But, due to trying times, you were sent to live with your impossibly wealthy grandparents to finish your education while your parents got back on their feet

So, you clearly had no idea how to navigate what felt like the world’s biggest campus

Taking initiative, you decided to take a free period to mentally map out at least the middle school campus. You were not about to be late to every single class again, lest you start getting detention

You were somewhere near the courtyard when you heard soft, delicate sobs from around the corner, followed by fast footsteps leading away from you

You quickened your pace to at least see what was going on, and the scene you walked in on told you everything you needed to know

The sobs were coming from a girl in your year, who seemed eager to get away from the courtyard. And leaning on the pillar on the bend, was a tall redhead who looked far too satisfied with himself. At least if your assumptions were correct

You decided not to go off on the boy right away, so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself

“Ah...Did I intrude on something?”

The boy apparently hadn’t noticed you until you said something, but quickly regained his composure

“Nah, you had good timing. We were just finishing up.”

“...We?”

Hikaru suddenly remembered

You were new to Ouran. And at this point, you probably haven’t memorized faces yet. Even if they were identical

That, and the fact that Kaoru was still behind a bush watching everything play out, was enough for Hikaru to try something new

“Me and that girl you saw, I mean.”

“Yeah, alright. What’s your deal with her, by the way? She didn’t sound too happy.”

Hikaru shrugged, “Dishonesty, disloyalty, stuff like that. I just gave her a piece of my mind and she couldn’t handle it.”

“Hm, I figured she couldn’t. She’s crying pretty hard.”

“Then she shouldn’t have been trying to sneak around with other guys.”

Alright...you halfway understood the guy. If you were in his shoes, you’d at least want to do something similar. But, going out of your way to emotionally decimate someone that clearly isn’t worth your time? Seems a little excessive

‘But, hey,’ you thought. ‘To each their own.’

You kept your composure around the boy, shrugging and turning to walk away. “I get that. What did you say your name was?”

“Mm? Hikaru.”

“Hikaru. If that girl’s really as horrible as you say she is, I think it’s hilarious that you’d give her pathetic ass the time of day.”

That jab technically wasn’t aimed at Hikaru, but the way you said it. The way you turned back slightly to flash a shit-eating grin at him. It was clear your comment was meant to say more about Hikaru than the girl he told off

In short, Hikaru ended up not liking you

Meeting Kaoru went a bit more smoothly

Since you were in Class B at the time (you were to transfer to Class A next semester), you didn’t actually gather that the asshole you met the other day had a whole brother. So, that case of whiplash was particularly strong

During a lunch period within the same year, you decided to sit alone. Nothing personal really, but being around twenty-four other kids your age with such a high amount of tunnel vision gets suffocating at a certain point

Not too far away, Hikaru had gotten up to use the bathroom, leaving Kaoru to his own devices for a bit

It wasn’t long before he found a familiar face in you, sitting alone and looking rather bored

Of course, Kaoru hadn’t personally talked to you yet. The only things he heard about you were from Hikaru, which still wasn’t much, considering that his brother seemed too embarrassed and pissed to say anything beyond: “They’re an asshole. They’re not worth talking to.”

But, regardless of Hikaru’s first impression of you, Kaoru thought it would be fun to mess with you for a bit

I’m fully convinced you have the eagle eye, because you noticed Kaoru before he even said anything

“If you’re still pressed about what I said the other day, Hikaru, trust me, I was just messing with you.”

Damn at least let him speak 💀

Kaoru noticed that even though you thought he was Hikaru, your posture and tone held no animosity. You seemed relaxed, even sending a half smile Kaoru’s way

Your aura felt overall likable, so what could you have said to Hikaru to tick him off so much??

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I actually almost forgot about that.”

Immediately, something didn’t click with you

“You sound different today, man. Everything okay?”

...What??

Kaoru wasn’t sure how you figured it out, but no one was usually able to tell the difference between his and Hikaru’s voices and speech patterns, period. Let alone upon hearing both twins once separately

“What do you mean...? I’ve always sounded like this?”

“Hm, must be a bad case of laryngitis then. How’s your twin doing, by the way?”

Kaoru’s expression didn’t betray much, but your knowing and lighthearted smile sure did

He originally wasn’t going to tell you the whole truth. But, you seemed like you’d be too much fun (given some time) to pass up getting on your good side!

It almost felt strange, inviting someone else into his and Hikaru’s little world. But, even if you were just a toy for now, you were someone Kaoru wanted to keep around 

Kaoru introduced himself with his real name while he explained his relationship with Hikaru, and your face was priceless

Sure, you knew that the boy in front of you wasn’t acting like the Hikaru you met a few days back. But, the twin brother thing was a complete shot in the dark!!

But, Kaoru laughed and dragged you and your lunch to his and Hikaru’s table

Ooh, when I say Hikaru was NOT thrilled??

He was seething when you gave him that same look as before

“Hey there, Heartbreaker. Nice to see you again.” 😊😊🙃🙃

Hikaru flushed as Kaoru tried to hide his giggles behind his hand

Yeah, that kind of sums up your dynamic 😂

From then on, whenever you were around the twins, you drove a clear wedge in their “identical” personalities. Just by the fact that you treated them both differently

Kaoru was your partner in crime, playing along with your jokes and often taking more agency in making decisions than usual. You were both mature, yet mischievous, so you were often on the same page

We stan compatible friends 👏😌

Hikaru...was kind of your sentient punching bag

From your first conversation with him to now, you gathered that Hikaru had a weirdly prominent petty streak, with some emotional constipation on the side. All of this, manifesting in a semi-childish, stubborn mess with a hair-trigger temper (At least, when it comes to you and Kaoru poking at him)

You weren’t exactly intent on improving those flaws (Since it’s technically not your job to fix the vices of others), but you most certainly let Hikaru know that those qualities weren’t something to be proud of. Especially when he let them get the better of him

And you did just that by teasing the hell out of him

“Aww, is little Hikaru upset that Italian isn’t being served at lunch today??”

“Ooh, don’t get too angry! You might pop a vein.”

“Y’know, you’d think a normal human being wouldn’t blush as much as you do. Are you really that bothered by me?”

Yes! He was!

He felt bothered and threatened because you dragged out every single flaw that no one (not even Kaoru) dared to call out until now. Not that he could give a name to that feeling an the moment

You were surprisingly clairvoyant for someone that strategically abused that fact. You always had an upper hand, and that wasn’t something Hikaru was used to

But, after a while, his frequent showcases of embarrassment began happening for a different reason

In between all of the teasing, you were never downright mean to Hikaru. You were just as nice to him as you were to Kaoru

Hikaru often enjoyed the bentos you made the twins on random days (Though, he failed to admit it on a regular basis)

When the teacher was going a little too fast, you’d always let Hikaru copy off of your notes

And man, you sure did look good at the beginning of the day...when the morning sun lights up your eyes, and-

Oh...

Oh no.

So, that’s why every time you’d get on Hikaru’s case, he would get flustered and look away. He liked you??

Hikaru can’t let anyone know about this. Especially you.

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[🌌Take this for your travels, bud. Don’t worry about paying me or anything, everything’s on the house! Though 🍁likes🍁 and ☘️reblogs☘️ are appreciated!🌄] — Reagan

#caravan commodities #extra supplies #ouran high school host club #ohshc headcanons #ohshc x reader #hikaru hitachiin #hikaru hitachiin headcanons #hikaru hitachiin x reader #hikaru x reader #why do i have a knack for writing full novels in a single post? #i have no idea!! #will i stop? #no!!

[kenmasangel]

you get shot infront of tsukishima

synopsis : you and tsukishima work as police officers and it is known that this field isn’t safe from dangers, in fact it’s one of the riskiest jobs out there. so what you tsukushim’as reaction to see his s/o getting shot right infront of his eyes?

characters : police-officer!tsukishima;  f!reader

genre : angst, fluff

warnings : injuries/blood, cursing, grammar mistakes

masterlist

request : i have one AU in where y\n is a spy or work for police or something like that in which she get's shot or something like that and how the haikyuu boys react to it or more specific tsukishima or any other will be ok if you do it

“straighten your arm, so you are sure to have a good aim,” tsukishima explains, holding your hands so he can guide you correctly.

the sound of the bullet being shot echoed in the practice room, lending on your target perfectly, “see? this is what i’m talking about,” he adds his warm breath carresing your neck. it would’ve sent shivers down your spine but you were taught to keep your composure, to have this poker face and to numb down any type of emotions; after all this was your work and you knew what you signed up for when you decided to join the police. “okay now that i got it let me do it alone,” you straightened your position and he got away from you

3 other shots, 3 other perfect lendings earning a smirk from the both of you. you turn around getting rid of the soundproof headphones, “don’t say anything,” he says before heading out of the practice room

“what? say what?” you hide your smile, now walking next to him

“you know what i mean y/n, i am not gonna tell you did a good job,” he rolls his eyes

“oh honey, i don’t need you to tell me, i know i did a good job,” he scoffs at your reply

you and tsukishima kei have been working together in the police for 9 years now

he was here before you and he didn’t miss a chance to tease trainee you every time he could

at the time you were focused and had one objective : integrate the police forces

and him butting in your buisiness everytime he could didn’t help and you weren’t afraid to twist his arm and threaten him to break his balls when no one was looking

as you finally got into the police, making yourself a name among all those cocky officers, fake peace guardians and mysoginist dickheads whose ego would get hurt easily by seeing a woman outshining them

tsk, poor things

one thing was sure is that you could always rely on tsukishima

and despite all the bickering, arguments and teasing, you couldn’t help but fall for the man who represented your pillar

of course you could count on yourself more than anyone, but kei was that breeze of fresh air that you inhaled pleasently after getting out of a suffocating room

needless to say he had also fallen for you, fallen really hard

he was known for being the brain of the team, very rare were the people who could go past his cold, inaccessible shield

to say it in another way, almost no one passed his vibe check

by now you guys were living together, everyone knew that you were a thing after you dramatically announced it once the contract’s interdiction to date was over

“omfg y’all, i made it! 4 years in the forces wohoo!” you held your glass in the air making your teammates scream back in entusiasm.

your teammates told you -lowkey forced you- to go celebrate this new chapter of your life in the police forces, it was the end of an era after all; an era that prevented you from many things because of that goddamn contract. you had alos gotten a promotion, everything was doing just great for you.

what no one knew was that you were dating tsukishima for quite a long while actually, you weren’t planning on telling everyone so soon but the events that happened that night lowkey forced you to do so.

“thanks everyone for celebrating with me tonight the beginning of a new era for me! let’s enjoy the night!” you weren’t one for emotional speeches.

everyone was drunk by then but tsukishima, of course, (mr. i am a mature man who doesn’t drink). he was watching over you, laughing at himself when he saw you fighting with your collegue about who would win a spicy ramen competition between, “i don’t care that you’re built like a whale or a blob fish, it doesn’t even matter! i would win that eating competition, i’m tiny but mighty narita-san! let’s wrestle so i can show you,”

“she really called him a blob fish,” he comments amazed at how incoherent what you said sounded. “need someone to share your thoughts with?” a feminine voice made an apparition next to him

“no,” he didn’t even bother looking at the woman next to him

“oh c’mon handsome, playing hard to get?” she gets closer to him. “just take a look at me and you’ll change your mind,” she whispered

“ew you stink, get away from me,” he pushed her off him

“you’re gonna make me sad,” she tried to get closer to him again

“and i am gonna make you feel pain, get the fuck away from him,” you appeared in front of  them, pretty pissed

she looked at you up and down, scoffed “are you his mom? leave us alone, we’re having a great time,” she tried to put her hand on his thigh but he pushed it away “most definetely not,” he answers

“i am his girlfriend, so back tf off don’t make me repeat myself,” you added getting closer to them. “you really don’t wanna mess with me,”

“is she really your girlfriend?” the glue chick insisted

before he could answer you  grabbed his arm and dramtaically pressed your lips against his making all your collegues and the people around you in that club gasp.

i mean the people who don’t know you started cheering and your collegues gasped, that glue of a girl included.tsukishima couldn’t help but smirk against your lips as he wrapped his long fingers holding the back of your neck pulling you closer, it lasted until you didn’t have any more oxygen in your lungs.

he grabbed your hand and led the both of you out of the club, “but baaaabe i till get to wrestle with blob fish-kun,” you pouted

the day after was supposed to be a weekend but you’ve been called for idk what reason

needless to say everyone was off, some remembered few snippets, some thought it was their imagination

anyway, everyone knew but no one really talked it out you know ? some type of unspoken rule or whatever but no one minded

anyway back to the present moment

you’ve been tracking for months a drug network or whatever the heck it is called

after months of intense tracking, following clues, interviewing suspects, sleepless nights and living of caffeine here you were going to finally stop the mfs

and tonight was the night

all your team was ready to catch them it was a matter of hours only

“areyou ready for tonight?” asked you tsukki handing you your coffee

“of course i am, especially after practicing my aim,” he smirks. “thanks by the way,” you add, head still down readeing your reports

“hey... hey yn,” he tris to catch his attention but you just hmm in response. “tsk, dumbass,” he flicks your forehead

“ow, what ? i am busy!” you retort. “yn i know you; you’re not busy you’re stressed, everything is gonna be fine okay? you’ve got this, we’ve got this,” he held your hand

kei was not big on affacetion, he never really showed it especially in public he was more of a sarcatic remarks and teasing type of boyfriend but it never stopped him from showing affection when it was needed, like this moment. it was also not your type to show affection or feelings as you learned how to control them; it was much needed in your job. yet it didn’t bother you when each of you got out of your way to be comfort each other

you smiled at him and peckd his lips quickely before anyone could see, “you know i love you right,” you smiled at him

“well, i’d love me too. i mean who wouldn’t after all,” you roll his eyes at his smugness

“excuse me sir, but i don’t mix up between my personal and pro life. would you please stay 6 feet away from me,” you nag at him

“so petty and for what?” you stuck your tongue as an answeryou continued checking all the reports and files before you went on the spot, everyone was getting ready by now and you were alone in the office when you received a very much unexpected call

“hel-,”

“hello? please come help me i’m in depot 5, building 3, neighborhood koenji, in front of the subway station please hurry before they find me,” the call ended brutally

you place that person mentionned was familiar to you, of course it was where you were going to catch the heads of that network of drug trafficking. you quickely went with the procedure to report the call and the emergency to the central

“yuki please be quick we can’t let them go, i am going now tell the others to join me there and send more men,” you blurt quickely before taking your protection and gun and leaving

once you arrived there you parked the car where no one could see it

wearing your protection and your gun tightly held in your hands, you looked for a discrete entery where you could sneak inyou finally ended up getting in from the back stairs leading to the 3rd floor before taking the stairs to go to the depot basement

you tried your best not to make any noise, and when you heard some noise you quickely hid behind a broken furnitureyou mentally asked yourself if you team was going to be there soonyou heard the voice of many men, plastic and metal sounds, anyway; sounds you’d hear in a depot filled with drug dealers, ya know the drill

at some point you heard the sounds vanish and going awayyou waited a few minutes before you thought it was a good idea to come out your hiding spot

as you walked closer to their previous spot you stumbled into a metalic box that was on the floor, “who’s there?” you quickely hid behind a pillar

“i said who the fuck is there ?” the man shot in the air but you didn’t budge

“it’s rats, Mo’, let’s go,” another man added

great, just great yn you mentally scolded yourself

you decided to go wait for your collegues in the third floor since they would get there soon

as you saw the police car parking next to yours you hurried quietly to join them

“y/n you sick fuck they could’ve caught you,” tsukki hurries out of the car to see you

“shush! i couldn’t let them go, i wanted to make sure they didn’t leave,” you explained. “so they are there, all the heads are there. i couldn’t find the person who called thoough, and of course there are many bodyguards; 4 in the main entry, 2 in the back, i also heard there are some on the roof.” you explain when the others came in. “i got there through these strairs leading to the 3rd floor,” you add, everyone nodding

“okay so here’s how it’s gonna go,” starts daichi; since he is the captain of your team. he proceeds to explain how things are gonna go, the way you’re going to catch them ...ect

you, kei, and two others were teamed up together

the plan was going perfectly fine, everything was in order and it was bound to succeed

heads were being captured one by one, everyone getting neutralized

but nothing can go 100% fine, right ?

the four of you were going up to the roof so you can capture the guards there and finish the mission

you slightly opened the door and entered the opened space, before you could comprehend what was happening you a felt a horrible pain in your leg and a compilation of balls being shot in the air

“YN! yn, stay with me, don’t you dare close your eyes,” kei hurries to you after him and the two others had shot the guards and called back up

you felt him wrap his jacket around your thigh tightly, “yn baby please, everything is gonna be fine you-,” he gasps after he felt his hand getting wet after he took your head, his eyes widden seeing how bloody his hand was and as he realized you hurt your head when you fell due to the shock

“kei,” a feint smile appeared on your face before you succumbed to your succumbed and let your heavy eyes take a rest

“YN? YN? no, no, no, no, are they fucking coming?” he asked your teammates who nodded. “baby stay with me,” he squeezed you tighter before scooping you up and deciding it was better to take you down himself and not wait for the emergencies to come since he thought they were taking too long

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you woke up with a horrible headache and how your muscles felt so sore, only the febril rays of the moonlight getting through the window illuminated the room. the annoying beeping of the machine next to you increased the pounding in your head

a nurse quickly came in, “hello there, how are you feeling?” you looked at her confused, finding a difficulty in letting the words slip from your dry throat, the only thing you managed to say was ‘pain’. “it’s normal,” she proceeded to ask you a bunch of questions, checking that machine and do her work

after she left you tried to remember what happened but the last thing you could remember was when you opened the door of the rooftop, hearing bullets getting shot and that’s it

“at least i’m not dead,” you sighed, going back to sleep

you woke up due to yelling in the hallway

“i told you to call me as soon as she woke up! you had one job!” you recognized your boyfriend’s voice

“sir, sir!” the nurse called him out but he opened your door and his expression softened as he saw you awake, softly smiling at him and rolling your eyes

he hurried to you, taking your hands in his softly, “i really want to hug you, but i don’t want to hurt you,” he started. he let out a shaky sigh, “ i was so scared, i didn’t want to believe i had lost you,” he burried his face in your chest, you noticed his shoulders started shaking slightly

“hey it’s fine baby, i’m here, you can’t get rid of me easily,” you started playing with his hair. “we’re gonna be old and bitter and people are gonna say how i aged like fine one and how your wrinkles are covering your grumpy face,” you chuckled

he lifted his head to look at you, “what?” you ask, your voice in a whisper

“i love you,” he said, you smiled soflty and carressed his cheek.

“i really want to kiss you but my breath stinks,” you chuckle, he rolls his eyes. “how long has it been? you ask

“week and a half, it felt like forever,” he pressed his forehead against yours, cupping your cheek

“i’m back now, right?” you smiled. “come, ow,” you tried to make somle place for him

“omg careful dumbass,” he leaned next to you and held your hand

“how are the others?” you ask, looking at your interwined fingers

“everything is alright, we got all of them we’re done with this case,” he tried to end the topic. “i’m glad,” you voiced your thoughts

“i’m glad you’re alive,” he added. “i don’t want to be away from you, i want to spend the rest of my life with you,” surprised, you looked at him with wide eyes. “love, life is short especially with our job and i don’t want to take the risk to spend one more day without you being my wife. i want to bicker with you over the dumbest things, see you tease me back when i tease you, wake up everyday next to you and your horrible bedhead, enjoy our food together and i can keep on listing what i want to live with all day long. i know this is not the best proposal ever but i’ll make it up to you,” he balbbered all of a sudden, you just kept staring at him this whole time, tears blurring your vision but you blinked them away, the situation itself was already way too emotional for you

“so, y/l/n y/n, do you want to become old, bitter and grumpy with me?” his eyes were full of hope

“i wish i could hug you right now,” you started. “but yes, i want to!”

he cupped your cheek and kissed you deeply, he still tried not to hurt you

“but you are the one with the horrible bedhead,” you pulled away

“right, you’re the one with the stinky breath,” he teased you

“hey, are you crying? i should be the one crying,” you noticed his glossy eyes

“what are you talking about, it’s allergies, tsk,” he flicked your forehead, you winced in pain and hid your face, over exaggerating, making him worried. “didi hurt you? omg baby i’m so sorry love, i didn’t mean into, should i call the doctor?”

you finally showed your face and stuck your tongue out, “dumbass,” he smiled.

he cupped your face and pulled you into another kiss

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!! #haikyuu headcannons #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! scenarios #haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu imagines #tsukishima kei #tsukishima #kei #karasuno #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x yn #tsukishima x you #tsukishima hc #tsukishima headcanons #tsukishima headcannon #tsukishima scenario #tsukishima imagine #haikyuu!! tsukishima kei #haikyuu tsukishima #angst #fluff #hc #hcs #scenario #imagine

[5lazarus]

Ultramarine

Sylaise attempts to trademark the color blue, initiating a civil war. Fen'Harel disapproves. Felassan, at this point, is just along for the ride.

Highlights include: Andruil attempts to create biological weapons out of the conquered children of the stone and sell them to absolutely everyone, Mythal may or may not involve, Solas greatly disapproves, and everyone wants to kill Fen'Harel for disapproving. Also an explanation as to why Solas has to think before answering Sera on whether he has ever pissed magic by accident.

Sorta a love story, sorta a comedy, sorta a story about political intrigue--but hey, Solas said Arlathan was even worse than Orlais!

A big thank you to @potatowitch and isomede for talking me through this and getting me to finish it--and for giving me the best ideas for it. Read on Archive of Our Own here.

Felassan drowses in the marketplace, listening to the gossip and basking in the bright sprint light of the Durgas Durgen’len. The Valley of the Children of the Dwarves marks the frontier of Mythal’s demesne, but is no less busy for it. Thaig-crawlers anxious for a Stone-milk fix bring the treasures of their houses. Elves from across the empire come to hawk their wares for the Stone’s blood, and under the Dread Wolf’s supervision, the two species live in uneasy coexistence under the Sky. He is a better procurator than Dirthamen, people whisper, but is that really a high bar to exceed?

Felassan shifts against the cool marble pillar of Mythal’s temple gate and keeps listening. One trader has come from Arlathan, seeking lyrium milked from the heart of the Titan itself. Another has high ambitions of dealing with the Dread Wolf himself, for a fragment of the Titan’s heart. Another is wondering what kind of money could be made out of the Children of the Stone’s need for the blood of their own god. Felassan lazily opens an eye at that. Fen’Harel does not want speculators driving the cost of living up, and is in rather tense negotiations with Mythal for a cleaner way to treat her new stone-children. He takes down the woman’s face: marked with Andruil’s vallaslin, but blue, so moderately wealthy and looking to buy her freedom soon. He resolves to arrange for her to meet an accident soon, but not too soon--he wants to see where she leads to.

“They could be useful, you know,” Andruil’s agent is saying. “Not just as miners, not just for their pretty little crafts. Since they need that fix, they can be controlled. You just need to mine enough lyrium and water it down to milk, and after a generation, you can train them into whatever you want. That’s what the Titans do to them, after all. Why not us? At least we’re brighter. And war’s coming, anyway.”

Felassan opens his eyes and stirs. He makes a show of warming his hands, trying to look like an indigent trader and less like the Dread Wolf’s spy. “War’s always coming, lethallin.”

The woman says, “Not like this. Of course, Mythal always stays neutral.”

“Hail the Adjudicator,” Felassan says pointedly.

Andruil’s agent rolls her eyes. “Hail the Adjudicator. I suppose news makes it to the frontier slow. Sylaise invaded Dirthamen’s lands last spring. Their champions are currently fighting it out for control of Dirthamen’s lapis lazuli monopoly. She’s declared that all colors of the sky are hers, and especially the stones that make blue.”

That’s remarkably stupid, Felassan thinks: but she has always been vain and foolish. He makes his excuses amiably, and heads out to tell the Dread Wolf. At the market’s gates he finds another of the Dread Wolf’s loyalists and sets them to track Andruil’s news-spreader. He ambles through the narrow streets, dodging clever halla guiding floating aravels to their destinations, and slinks into the Dread Wolf’s personal residence. As he suspects, he is still at home. He could hear music drifting from an upstairs window. He knocks on the door, and a hand emerges from the window to throw down the keys. Grinning, Felassan catches them, and lets himself in.

Felassan says, “I suppose you’ve heard the news. Sylaise has trademarked the color blue.” He has come bearing gossip straight from the caravansaries, right to the Dread Wolf’s headquarters—a cheap apartment at the outskirts of Mythal’s newest colony, Durgas Durgen’len. Solas has moved recently; Felassan glances up at the blank ceiling and notes he hasn't had the time to start drafting his starry mosaic yet. The Dread Wolf himself is sprawled in his chair, feet on his desk, reading a report and laughing. Solas grins. He hands Felassan the lyrium tablet. “Alas, not entirely--you know I was planning on painting my ceiling?” Felassan looks down at the tablet. It’s a trade manifest. “I put in a massive order of lapis lazuli seasons ago--and it arrived safely this morning, despite the current trade war. Sylaise may be fighting for the mines, but production cannot continue when there is war going on. So we have the largest supply of lapis lazuli in all of Elvhenan. And the All-Mother wrote me that they’re running low on blue pigment in Arlathan--so Sylaise will not have enough ultramarine paint to finish that magnificent dome she was planning for her palace.” Felassan reads through the trade manifest, impressed despite himself. The Dread Wolf preens slightly. Whoever named him pegged him perfectly. He does so like to be praised. He says, “I suppose you started hoarding pigment when you heard she started the project. So we’ll make some money. But what about Andruil? Her spy’s doomsaying war and talking about--shaping the stone-children with lyrium itself, turning them into a whole disposable workforce. How are negotiations with Mythal?” The merry mood dampens. Solas taps the crystalline music player, and the song shifts. It sounds like lyrium, except cleaner and somehow sad. He says, “The dwarves listen to this. They play it on their own crystal communications array. I’ve tracked two in the Valley, and there are at least three more. Beautiful, isn’t it? Unthinking, but with its own natural harmony.” Felassan thinks it sounds like waking up in the bright morning, tousled in the sweating arms of a still-drunk lover, when he untangles himself from the sticky sheets and picks up the abandoned wine glasses, knocked over but unbroken on the floor. It sounds like flicking a wine glass, slightly hungover. It sounds like the last time Solas let him stay over. Felassan coughs, a bit embarrassed; the lyrium song caught him. Fucking dwarves: he still doesn’t understand their enchanments. “What do you want me to do about the spy? Kill her?” The Dread Wolf looks meditative. “No. Not yet, at least. We do not need to give Andruil more reasons for war, and if we need to escalate let us have one of Mythal’s temple guards do it. If she’s talking about shaping flesh, she’s been talking to Ghilan’nain. And we know Ghilan’nain has been talking to Mythal.” He smiles thinly. That answers that, then. Negotiations with Mythal are not going well, and this petty war between Sylaise and Dirthamen covers up something nastier. The alliances between the Evanuris are shifting, and that leaves Fen’Harel and their people in the lurch. The Dread Wolf says, “If Andruil wants Mythal’s little stones, she will have to come to me first. Sylaise’s vanity will not be the reason for outright war. I will speak to her and Dirthamen both, and then we shall see what hand she plays next.”

Mythal’s court is terrifying. Felassan trails Solas, who has traded his usual homespun tunic for a more impressive set of lyrium-inscribed leather armor. The lyrium sings as they walk, and Felassan can almost taste the words. Solas projects an aura of calm authority, with a testier threat of violence underneath. It’s the lyrium, somehow. The Dread Wolf is manipulating it. When they approach the throne, Felassan kneels but Solas only ducks his head. Insane, Felassan thinks. He’s caught wind of an incipient civil war so he’s decided to tease Mythal. What a fucking madman. Mythal sighs. “Get up, you fool.” Felassan glances at Solas worriedly. Solas says laconically, “She means you.” Hurriedly he rises to his feet, blushing. Mythal shakes her head. “I have always said the People are too quick to bend the knee. I expect more pride from your people, Dread Wolf.” Solas gestures at him to retreat to his back. Felassan gladly slinks back into the shadows, and scans the hall for potential enemies. It is empty but for the lyrium ostentatiously woven into the very brickwork, shaping the earth into a temperature-controlled paradise. She could pull at it and made the whole palace implode, but Solas could as well. Even Felassan could give that a try. He realizes, slightly shocked, that the All-Mother trusts the Dread Wolf, as much as she is capable of trusting anyone. The All-Mother rises from her throne and stalks down to greet her favorite. She places one claw on his shoulder and caresses his face with another. The Dread Wolf stiffens but does not draw back. “My child,” she says fondly. “You’ve come to ask about the blue war, then.” “It’s a particularly idiotic reason to start a civil war,” the Dread Wolf says. “Particularly since I have enough ultramarine pigment to last out Sylaise’s monument to her own stupidity. And my workers have found a lapis lazuli cache in the Durgas Durgen’len, so we will be able to shift productive in the valley from lyrium to paint readily enough.” “Your workers,” Mythal says. “You mean my workers.” Solas says, “I do not own them.” Felassan tenses. When he was manumitted, Solas swore never to hold another in bondage, even the durgen’len. They are his workers only because they toil under his supervision, and Solas is quick to point out that he pays them and encourages their economic freedom beyond his holds. Mythal is doing this deliberately to upset him. Felassan knows how much Solas resents how Mythal keeps her hands on the reins of her freed slaves. He knows how much Solas resents how that is still how the court thinks of him, encouraged by Mythal: the All-Mother’s freed slave, her Dread Wolf—and not even his workers are safe from her clutches.

Solas says, “My man found one of Andruil’s agents, spreading rumors of war in the marketplace—and worse, suggesting we splinter the autonomy of your little stones, and addict them to their stone-milk to keep them pliable. You know Ghilan’nain put that into her head, and Ghilan’nain is not to be trusted. She dares too much, we cannot—“

“Ghilan’nain is not to be trusted?” Mythal is amused. “Dread Wolf, you’re the one who put her eyes out.” Solas opens his mouth and closes it. Felassan looks down at the ground. He has never seen him at a loss for words before. It is less satisfying than he imagined. Mythal laughs. “Trust in my judgement, as you always have. Ghilan’nain may overreach but her experimentations with lyrium and my new subjects will do Elvhenan no harm. These…weapons are soulless, but not at a risk to our own souls.”

“You do not know that,” Solas says. “Is this why you have allowed Sylaise’s hostilities to increase? Are you looking to test her new experiments in this petty war? Nevermind her…trademark,” he sneers. “We will begin production forthwith. This war will stop here.”

Mythal says, “War is inevitable. Winning is not. When will I next see you at court?”

Solas leaves seething, Felassan dogging his footsteps. Felassan follows him home. It is clear that he is upset. Felassan himself is more frightened than angry, but the gods are different than the rest of the People, even ones like the Dread Wolf, who had been born a spirit made enslaved flesh.

Solas lets him enter his home and finds a bottle of wine. He pours them both a glass, hands shaking, and settles back in his desk chair.

Felassan drags the chair in front of his desk and places it next to him.“I thought you were going to fight her,” he says. “I thought you were going to snap and yell at her.”

Solas says, “Drink.” He leans forward in his chair, pride demon eyes staring him down. Felassan wishes he would blink. He looks away and drinks the thick, sweet red wine that tastes too fresh, too close to the grape. This was a wine to get drunk to, not to drink.

He casts about for something to say, anything to move that stare away. Ghilan’nain and her grotesqueries are not an option. Solas will not respond if he tackles the issue of Mythal directly. Finally, he tries, “You’d think she’d do something about Andruil’s spies.”

Solas quirks an eyebrow. “Why would she? She’s paying her.” Now he leans back. The gold night is slating through the apartment’s window and lends a shimmer to his skin. Felassan watches him sip. The apartment might be small and a bit rundown, but Solas has arranged himself impeccably, glorying in the natural light. He is a god, he is Mythal’s procurator, he is a lord in his own right: and he is still ever the artist.

“What,” Felassan says.

“Oh yes,” Solas shifts in his chair, gesturing with his glass, “the All-Mother has spoken, before witnesses—yourself included—that Ghilan’nain’s experimentations with lyrium and Mythal’s own little stones are for the good of Elvhenan.” He barks a bitter laugh. “You know the dwarves sing a hymn to their own children, about the promise of Mythal’s freedom? Let me show you.” He waves a hand at the crystalline radio and once again the music plays, the odd echoing that vibrates within the nose and the smallest bones in the ear and the jaw.

Felassan closes his eyes and listens as the voice of the Stone reverberates, “Ir sa tel’nal, Mythal las ma theneras. Ir san’a emma. Him Sola evanuris. Da’durgen’lin, Banal males elgara. Bellanaris, bellanaris.”

Solas says, “She uses me to keep them placid, promising them their freedom—freedom of thought, through their imagination, but they will never freely walk under Elgar’nan’s sun. I have no love for the Children of the Stone. I find them lacking in understanding. What can be gleamed, by people who do not dream? But no one, for all the horror they have wrecked with their earthshaking, deserves Ghilan’nain. Mythal promised me my freedom. That should be extended to all the workers under my control.”

Felassan throws back his drink and sets his glass on the desk. “Pour me another one,” he says. “So. What are we going to do, to stop this war? Because that is what you intend to do. To make the need for these lyrium-worked stone weapons redundant. What do you need me to do?”

Solas is taken aback for a moment, though he should know better. He was the one who left him, after all. Solas reaches for him. Felassan leans into the touch reassuringly, knowing Solas is already making excuses, a moment of weakness, a moment of sentimentality, he has been alone for so long. They lock eyes, Felassan thinks let me stay over again, let me love you but the music changes pitch and Solas gets out of his chair to turn it off, and then shifts to the kitchen for better wine.

They spend the night strategizing how to prevent a war, but when Solas goes to bed, he chooses to go alone.

Arlathan is resplendent for the peace summit, but the Dread Wolf’s retinue is glorious in their wonderfully-dyed ultramarine silks. It is a statement and it is a bold one, and Felassan is feeling smug, because not only are they, the former foot soldiers of Mythal’s army, wearing an entire kingdom’s worth of cash on their backs—they also look magnificent in blue.

“You’re strutting,” Felassan tells Solas, beautiful in a blue tunic and a woven gold scarf.

Solas laughs. “Look at them, watching,” he says happily. “I see Sylaise’s little spies chattering away—the Dread Wolf has enough ultramarine to turn out his own court, and spare. I love this pageantry. Next time, if we live to see another time, I will ask the dyers to dress the cloth like peacocks. And then we truly will put on a show.”

Felassan was more referring to how he was walking so everyone would look at his ass, which was certainly one of the nicest he himself has ever seen, but he does like the idea of both of them done up in turquoise and gold, glittering in the sunset. Solas rarely dresses well outside of court, preferring the anonymity or alternate political statement of plain dress. But the message here is clear: the Dread Wolf carries enough wealth, independent from Mythal, to stop a war.

They process into Mythal and Elgar’nan’s palace, which is of course overheated. The ritual of welcome is interminable. Mythal is clearly amused, Elgar’nan is already drunk, one of Falon’Din’s slaves attempts to trip Solas’ herald, and Sylaise glowers the whole time. Solas is simply serene. Felassan does his best to arrange his face, but he’s best at parties, not the cult aspect of life as a servant of an immortal godking. When he first hit on that bombastic new recruit in the barracks, this was not how he thought it would end. He really had thought they would all be dead before then.

Eventually they are released to Solas’ own wing of the palace, much smaller than all the other children of Mythal and their co-rulers. There Solas will arbitrate the terms of the peace agreement between Sylaise and Dirthamen. Even for a former slave—and a rumored bastard child—the quarters are grandiose. An obsequious slave branded by Andruil’s insignia informs them that Sylaise specially redesigned them in line with the latest fashions, and then makes a quick gesture with his hand as Solas enters. Felassan catches it: pinky and pointer up, middle and ring finger touching the thumb. He’s made the sign of the wolf at them. He’s asking for help.

“Rubies,” Solas says. “Gold. Far too gaudy.” They stand in the atrium, bejeweled and overheated, with rooms all along the courtyard. The Dread Wolf’s retinue—loyal soldiers, clerks from across the caste system, kitchen staff and cleaners—all stay close. The heat is overwhelming. The red seems to shimmer in Arlathan’s bright light

“Well,” Felassan says. “It’s gaudy, but it’s a peace offering from Sylaise. Anyway, you’re one to talk. You’re wearing enough blue dye to buy an army.” He brushes against Solas, trying to get his attention, and Solas leans into the touch and then abruptly moves away. For fuck’s sake, Fen’Harel, Felassan thinks. For once I’m not trying anything.

“Which is the point,” Solas says, refusing to look at him. “This though,” he waves a dismissive hand, “is a migraine. But the expense and insult to Sylaise for redesigning apartments she so kindly put together…”

Felassan says, “I think some of this is colored glass.” He flicks a particularly obnoxious cut gem over the threshold of the drawing room. It resounds like lyrium-song, but even more distorted, haunting and hot in his ears. It’s red lyrium, and the retinue pauses and draws together quickly.

“Touch nothing!” Solas barks. “Pack up your things. This is red lyrium, and it corrupts what it touches.” He shakes his head. “Unsubtle. This is a gift from Sylaise, but at Andruil’s prompting.” He puts his hand on Felassan’s shoulder. “I must ask a favor from you, my friend. Stay close to me. I need you to be my slow arrow, to catch Andruil out.”

Felassan remains Solas’ only guard. The rest work quickly to calculate and capture the red lyrium contamination in their quarters. He’s nervous. Normally the Evanuris are more subtle, but Andruil has changed since the war. He tells him about the sign Sylaise’s slave made and Solas just looks smug, choosing to keep the story to himself. Of course Fen’Harel has spies in every court, of course Fen’Harel knows who needs him before they even do, of course Fen’Harel doesn’t communicate anything beyond need-to-know even to him, his personal guard. He thinks, not for the first time, that Solas is a hard man to love. At least Solas knows that too.

The peace summit is boring. Sylaise puts on a show, decked out in lyrium-woven silver and lapis lazuli, which makes her brilliant red hair shine gold and rather disruptive. Dirthamen is more severe. His graying hair is braided with silver thread, making the red in it even more distinctive, and the lyrium-silk he wears whispers the impressions of all that he has seen. At this point Felassan has ceased to be rattled by how very much Solas looks like him. Fen’Harel keeps his head shaved because it is anonymous and convenient, and also because it makes him look even less like his rumored half-siblings.

The children of Mythal gather around a round table. Solas opens negotiates. Felassan is bored. There is so much lyrium in the room, it thrums in his sinuses and he is afraid his nose will bleed. The conquest of the Durgas Durgen’len has brought plenty to Elvhenan. The excess is rather grotesque, and while Felassan likes grotesque—why else would he be in the Dread Wolf’s retinue?—the other Evanuris are a bit much. Absolutely no one in the room brings up Andruil or Ghilan’nain’s name, but their presence is felt.

The meeting ends after Solas successfully convinces both to sign a nonaggression pact that includes reporting to the other when they begin outfitting for war. They can track the movement of Andruil’s experimental soldiers that way, though the clause does not require them to inform Mythal. They have enough spies. Solas has them sign the contract in blood laced with lyrium, providing his own knife.

“Ah,” Sylaise says. “Fen’Harel’s fang. How cute. Did my mother give you that?”

Solas smiles coldly. “My father, actually. I have never asked how he received it.” Score, Felassan thinks. Sylaise has always been a fucking idiot.

Dirthamen says, “You’ve never asked?”

Solas says, “It was his once and is mine now. I rather think I have made written is backstory.” He glances at the contract, slowly drying on the table.

Felassan says helpfully, “In your blood. Literally.” Solas catches his eye and they both begin to grin before he looks away hurriedly. “Now, everyone will know, that it is at this daggerpoint that war was averted and peace brokered between two of the greatest powers of Elvhenan, and the nation’s supply of blue dye restored.”

Solas says mildly, “I should add that Mythal has asked me to draft legislature making it clear that colored dyes themselves cannot be patented, though of course ratios and forms of manufacturing may remain trade secrets to the craftsman.” He bows slightly to Sylaise, who visibly grinds her teeth. Felassan can hear the squeak.

Dirthamen says, “Good. If you will excuse me? I must tender my regards to our mother. She and I have much to discuss.”

Solas says, “Give her my love.” He means it, too. For all that Mythal has wrecked, Solas has always loved her. He may have removed the mark from his face—and Felassan’s too—but the writing is in the blood, as the saying goes. The vallaslin can never truly be erased.

Dirthamen leaves and Sylaise follows hurriedly, and Solas leans forward, elbows on the table, steepling his hands. He rubs the bridge of his nose, staring at the contract.

“Nicely done,” Felassan says. “Dirthamen came very close to acknowledging you as his brother. You might’ve alienated Sylaise, but she was always a lost cause.”

“I’m not,” Solas says sharply. He drops his hands. “As you know. But it’s interesting that he has an audience with Mythal. Perhaps Andruil approached him first, rather than Sylaise. Perhaps this all was yet another game of hers, testing to see how easily her children fracture if she chooses to leave Elvhenan unattended. Or perhaps they’re simply gossiping together, as a mother is wont to do, with her only son.”

Felassan says, “Fine. Forget I said anything. Sorry. But no one’s tried to kill you that well yet. The red lyrium was a cheap shot, but Sylaise has always been cheap. What now?”

Solas says, “I need to clean my dagger, file some paperwork, and see when Sylaise will try to kill me again. I hope, for your sake, that it happens so soon, because I can see that you’re bored.”

“Nothing like an assassination attempt to liven up a peace treaty,” Felassan says. “If you would try to risk your life in more entertaining ways, I would not complain.”

Solas says, “Don’t worry. Andruil’s slave, the one you saw? He invited us to a party. He’s working for the Forgotten Ones. Things will get entertaining yet.”

Geldauron throws the best parties. Everyone knows that. It’s because he’s no longer corporeal, so he focuses on the vibes of the space, to bring everyone’s desires to fruition. He is also a wonderful musician, because he is music and thought becomes music, and he knows how to sing everyone’s desires into a wonderful piece. Felassan is excited, because Solas is his favorite person to get fucked up with, and while both of them will have to pretend to be sober, the night promises to be fun.

Geldauron throws the best parties. He’s also a fucking asshole. The two return to Solas’ quarters to prepare—Solas changes his clothes and Felassan smokes instead. He lounges on Solas’ bed, watching him dress. Solas swaps the cloth leggings for blue-dyed leather and a gold-edged tunic. Picking up a wolfskin, he turns to Felassan, only to catch him ogling his ass. He raises an eyebrow.

Felassan says, “Good choice. But if you take those off you’re not getting back in them any time soon.”

Solas snorts. “I doubt it is that kind of party.”

“We could make it that kind of party.”

Solas grins. He says, “No.”

“I thought you like mixing business and pleasure,” Felassan says. He takes a drag and, concentrating, blows a smoke ring toward him.

Solas’ smile fades, and he returns to the mirror, adjusting his collar. “Not now,” he says. “I cannot afford to be so reckless anymore.”

Felassan sees himself, desirable in the mirror, and Solas looking frustrated. He says, “Why did you ask me to come along?”

“Because I trust you,” Solas says readily. “Because I care about you, and I will behave more cautiously so I may keep you safe. As you would to protect me. And that is why I must ask you—stop this. I am your commander now. It’s inappropriate concerning our differences in rank. We might no longer be slaves, but I have certain responsibilities.” He stops, seeing Felassan laughing in the mirror. “What?”

Felassan sidles up and puts his arms around him. “You’re so full of shit,” he says fondly. Solas stiffens, and then relaxes. “Sure. I’ll stop. I’m sorry.”

“I,” Solas begins, and then stops. “Yes. Thank you.”

Felassan thinks, you want me to persuade you, don’t you? You’ve always enjoyed being courted. But tonight, I’d rather not. It’s my turn for some flattery. I’m tired of being hung out to dry. He pushes him away and goes to the door. “So,” he says. “Where in the Void are we going? Didn’t Geldauron get rid of his physical form? This is a trap, isn’t it?”

“We wouldn’t go if it weren’t,” Solas says. “You asked for adventure, and I am glad to deliver.”

They have to take three different eluvians and briefly melt into the Void to get to the spot in the Abyss where Geldauron has shaped according to his munificent Will. Melting always makes Felassan have to piss, but there are no bathrooms in the Abyss. Geldauron eschews such mundanities.

Felassan grumbles, “Subject and object, actor and acted upon. Easy to say when you’ve jettisoned your bladder to become a fog of resentment and envy. That still smells like piss.”

The Abyss, triggered by Felassan’s desire for shape, sense, and a toilet, warps. Tiles, Felassan thinks. Please. A nice hole in the ground to piss in. I’ll take a tree. Solas waves an idle hand, and a cobbled path appears out of the blankness. A white threshold opens at the end. From there they feel the vibrato of lyrium-song, electric and hungry. Felassan shivers. Carefully they step on the path. Halfway up, Felassan stops.

“What do you think will happen if I piss off the map?” Felassan says. “Into the Abyss?”

Solas pauses. There is mischief in his eyes. “We know that Geldauron will not bother to manifest anything to accommodate our corporeality.”

Felassan squints into the blankness. “If I conquer his Will with my Will, it won’t bounce back.”

“It would be purely an experiment of magical energy,” Solas agrees. They stare at each other.

Felassan says, “I bet you I can aim farther than you.”

“There is no distance to measure,” Solas says. “It’s the Void.”

“Coward,” Felassan says. “Don’t you need to take a piss too?”

Solas looks exasperated. One more taunt, Felassan thinks, and I’ve got him. He’s never been able to back down from a bet.

“I bet you I can Will it farther than you, and get rid of the smell,” Felassan says. “And, anyway, there’s not going to be anywhere more private to take a piss than our personal pathway through the Abyss. Especially if we’re walking into a trap. Unless you want to weaponize your bladder.” He pauses. “Is that why Geldauron smells like piss?

“Geldauron stinks because as he lost his physical form, his body relieved itself of all its former functions. He captured himself in the moment of his dying renewal. Unfortunate, but to be expected for one as foolish as he,” Solas says, amused. “But to your question—are you saying you think you can piss magic?”

Felassan says, “Wanna bet?”

The lyrium-high hits them both as a physical force as they pass the threshold, and Felassan’s heart skips a beat as it thrums through his body, teasing his sinuses and twinging behind his eyes and ears. Solas takes a deep, steadying breath, and Reality begins to vein, blueing the whiteness into shadowy shape. Felassan sniffs: lightning, storm clouds, fertile earth, and—that’s it, just the hint of piss.

He whispers, “I think I found Geldauron.”

Solas chokes back a laugh.

The slightly stinking vibration that is the Forgotten One Geldauron wraps around them and gives a token attempt at conquering their Will. Solas brushes him off as if he were a fly. Felassan thinks very hard, shit piss shit piss shit piss fucker—and the buzzing stops. Geldauron backs off, giving off a sense of being decidedly rumpled. Felassan is smug.

“Greetings, the Will that is Geldauron,” Solas says. There is a touch of irony to his voice.

Geldauron arranges the particles of the voice into a throat, complete with tongue, lips, teeth, and vocal cord. Felassan eyes it with disgust, Solas with interest. Felassan has always thoroughly enjoyed having a body, and has never understood why the Forgotten Ones gave up their form to vibrate in the Abyss—and, of course, the fact that they backed down from fighting the Pillars of the Earth when thousands were dying in those earthquakes does not incline him to being kind. Solas, though, has always liked to experiment.

Geldauron says, “Welcome to the Void. I see you’ve brought a guard.” Felassan stands up a bit straighter and attempts to look intimidating. The vibration that is Geldauron twinges. “You wouldn’t trust your old friends?”

Solas says lightly, “I especially wouldn’t trust old friends. How’s your lyrium-mining operation going?”

“Better, if you’d give me the workers.”

“Which I would, if you added basic safeguards to your mindvision. The Abyss is still Evhenan, and follows the same operational safety protocol as part of the empire.”

Geldauron scoffs. “Anaris is still pissed you backed out of the deal. He’s looking for a better buyer.”

Solas says, “Anaris caused the death of three hundred and twenty-nine elvhen miners from my home province. Not every man has the ability to project, with utmost confidence, the certainty of their own mortality while handling certainly noxious substances. Is he here?”

Around them the party swirls in blasting lyrium-song and crystal colors, and Felassan closes his eyes to feel the Will solidify as the voices sing. He is not drunk and only a little high, but there is a hive and there is the mind and there are infinite and only two hundred people in this Void, just vibing, and six at least are vining around each other, flesh to plant twirling photosynthesis, and he tastes—

Solas says, “If you think your profit margin outweighs the worth of any freethinking person in my employ, I will override your thought-form myself.” He puts a hand out and grips a shoulder as he forces Geldauron to take shape, Will snapping Will back into Reality, and Felassan shakes himself and watches as the old god flashes into a form, snarling, and then unravels again. Showing up the host at his own party, Felassan thinks. That’s a mistake.

He steps in, to back him up. “Can you still be the Will when others have more Will than you?” He waves a hand through where Geldauron’s vibrato played. There are others staring at them, taking physical shape, and now the Abyss becomes a black castle, lyrium roots twinging at their feet. The air is hungry. He suppresses a shiver.

“Cute,” a voice drawls, and then there is a body to match: the slave Felassan saw, who warned them about the red lyrium in their quarters. Then the vallaslin melts away and he grows taller, face sharpening and eyes narrowing, pupils elongating to slits.

“Anaris,” Solas says neutrally. Felassan looks at him quickly. There’s history here. The most physical of the Forgotten Ones is unearthly handsome, as aesthetically perfect as a monument, and thus completely unfuckable. Judging from the slight tension in Solas’ posture, Fen’Harel once disagreed. Felassan checks a sigh. He looks at Felassan. “Give us a moment. I’ll meet you near the path.” Felassan pauses, because leaving him alone with the Forgotten Ones is ridiculous, however ridiculously overpowered Solas is, but Solas gives him that cold Fen’Harel look so he backs off without trying to argue. There is never any point. He never listens, and out of the few arguments Felassan has ever won with him, it has only been because Solas has already decided to agree. He bows slightly, only to make him uncomfortable, and wanders off into the Void. Maybe they are just meeting to talk over labor disputes. Maybe it is something more—but it is not every night that Felassan finds himself partying in the Abyss, and so he intends to take advantage of it while he still can.

Felassan has a crowd of sympathetic quasi-corporeal spirits surrounding him, and they all pet him and tell him he is right. He is drunk and this is the Fade leaching into the Abyss to massage his desires into reality, but that does not spoil it.

“I am done with bad bosses,” Felassan announces to the crowd. “Bad bosses who say they love you and take you along to arbitrate weird labor disputes with their exes and then cut you out of the interesting part. Bad bosses who when they’re promoted above you stop sleeping with you but keep you around anyway. This has been a centuries-long break-up and I deserve better.”

A Compassion spirit says, “You should tell him. Communication is always key.”

Felassan wails, “But he told me!”

The spirits rustle. The Compassion spirit looks slightly less sympathetic. A spirit of Authority and their friend, one of Geldauron’s lackeys who couldn’t quite eschew their form entirely, say in unison, “Is it the debasement that you like?”

Felassan pauses. “No. Yes.” He thinks. “No. Just the presence. I could handle the profession. I can! I am. But mixing business and pleasure?”

Suddenly, out of the Abyss, comes Solas’s voice, and then Solas’s presence. He says, amused, “Anaris is not my ex. How have you managed to get drunk off the Abyss? There is nothing here.”

Felassan flushes. Solas offers him a hand and helps pull him up. Felassan says haughtily, “I find the Nothingness very intoxicating.” Solas’ eyes crinkle, and Felassan hangs onto him a second longer before Solas gently lets go. Felassan says, “Someone manifested the drunk. Not me.”

Solas says, “Yes. Compassion, or Authority, manifested your current state of inebriation. Not any of your desire to taste oblivion.”

Felassan says, “Yes, that’s right. Everyone brought oblivion to me.”

Solas chuckles. “Ridiculous.” He takes hold of Felassan and walks him into the blackness. “Place more drunk,” he whispers. “We’re being followed.”

Felassan stumbles. Solas leans over to catch him. Felassan whispers in his ear, “Anaris? Geldauron? Ghilan’nain? Which one of your enemies is it today?”

Solas’ lips brush his cheek. “Andruil,” he mouths. He presses a lingering kiss to his cheek, and Felassan draws back, furious. Solas closes his left eye quickly, barely even a wink: Felassan whirls around, and Andruil jams a needle into his neck, and then he is falling as Solas backs away, eyes flashing with Mythal’s lightning.

“Where the fuck is that fucker?”

Felassan is rudely shaken awake. “Easy, easy,” he grumbles, putting his hands out. Anaris, beauty distorted by frothing rage, slaps them away. Felassan sits up, takes stock: he is sitting on the worn stone path out of the Abyss, hanging over the Avoid. Anaris looms over him. Fen’Harel is nowhere to be found. Felassan decides to play dumb. “What fucker?”

Anaris says, “That fucker. Your fucker. Fen’Harel.”

Felassan objects: Solas hasn’t let him fuck him since Mythal made him a god, citing the power differential. That, of course, has not stopped them from flirtation, tension, and angst, and Felassan is occasionally jealous that Solas seems to fuck everyone but him—Anaris, really?—but that all goes to say: Fen’Harel is not his fucker. He opens his mouth to say all that, but Anaris shoves him roughly to the ground.

“He’s mine,” Anaris says.

Felassan props himself up on his elbow. “Yeah. I had a nice talk with a spirit of Compassion early….” He looks over his shoulder, trying to find the entrance to the Abyss where Geldauron’s party was. There is nothing, which makes sense, because this is the Abyss. He shrugs. “Really, he’s no one’s but his own. Built his own brand on that. Terrible commitment issues, and not the most appropriate commander—you need to learn to let him go—“

“The fuck are you on about?” Anaris stares at him. “He broke our fucking contract. Mythal ordered him to sell us her workers, he backed out. And now he’s sitting on an entire kingdom of gold because of Andruil’s stupid gambit—biologic-fucking-weapons. Not like he’s doing anything useful with those dwarves. May as well test them out in one of Sylaise’s petty wars.”

Felassan stares up at him, disgusted. “They’re not weapons,” he says. “They’re people. Just because they don’t dream…we threw down the Pillars of the Earth and scorn them for making machines of their own people. We can do better than that.”

Anaris says, “Did I ask for moralism? No? Gods. You’re definitely one of his followers, ugh. Does he keep you around for his conscience?” He shakes his head. “I’m done with that shit. Geldauron said—whatever. Where the fuck is he? He owes me money. He broke our contract!”

Felassan thinks, I’m done with this shit. He rubs his aching head wearily. “I think Andruil took him.” He isn’t quite sure, but he thinks Solas was trying to protect him. He’s never been very good at letting his guards guard him, but Felassan is rather glad to still be alive. Doubtless enough time as Mythal’s thrall will teach him to let others die.

Anaris swears so loudly and angrily the path, which is itself a thought form, shakes slightly. Felassan eyes him warily. He points in a random direction. “I think they went that way.” A doorway, shining brilliant with white light, opens up onto the path. Felassan considers it. The wondrous thing about living in a malleable reality is that if one Wills hard enough, it comes true. Felassan wants Anaris to fuck off and find Andruil, so the gateway appears. “Nice,” he says aloud.

Anaris sets off. Felassan lays down on the floor, which obligingly broadens so his limbs won’t dangle into the Void. This is the sort of mess only Fen’Harel could get embroiled in. He thought they were just investigating a trade embargo, then a war, and now it’s a labor dispute. He pities himself and his aching head a little bit longer, and then rolls to his feet. “Right,” he tells himself. “Let’s get him out of there.” With that, he walks into the light.

The Void opens into a dark forest, somewhere south of Arlathan—Andruil’s demesne. The earth is warm and welcoming below his feet, and the trees press closely, watching his back. Felassan can hear the night-birds sing, bats chitter their paths through the darkness, and the ever-present insect scream. He looses a breath. He walks through the material world reassuringly, touching a tree or caressing a leaf as he goes. Anaris’ deep footprints mark an angry path through the mud. Felassan tastes the rain-rich air: it has rained before and it will rain again. Andruil will be quite damp.

A clearing with a warm fire opens up through the woods. Felassan hears Andruil’s laughter. Obeying his prey instincts, he hurriedly clambers up a tree to get a better view. Solas is trussed up, hands and feet bound, leaned against a tree. He is entirely nude, covered in mud, and looking a bit scratched up and tired. Felassan raises a hand and waves at him from the canopy. Solas looks up, makes a face, and looks down quickly.

Andruil says, “No. He’s mine. He ruined my bioengineering program and now my mother expects me to pay out of pocket for the trials. We’re going to test the red lyrium armor on him first and present him to her as a gift. You can use him when we’re done with target practice.”

Anaris stomps his foot. “He broke our contract and bankrupted half the Forgotten Ones—and you promised us you’d invest. I claim him, in the name of the Abyss.”

Solas, temporarily forgotten, begins to chew on the ropes binding his wrists. Felassan stifles a laugh. Intervening now would be suicide. He’ll wait for the right moment.

Andruil says, “Fuck off. Your Abyss is nothing.” Literally, Felassan thinks. It is an abyss after all. “He is mine to do what I wish. After what he did to Ghilan’nain, his life is forfeit.”

Solas mutters, “Notwithstanding what she did to me and mine.”

Anaris says, “Ghilan’nain isn’t here to pursue her claim.” He strikes a pose. “By the All-Mother’s law, there is only one recourse. A duel of honor!”

Solas says, “How flattering. And the winner gets my entrails. One does love to see the letter of the law followed.”

Andruil kicks him over; Solas takes the blow and falls with a grunt. She says, “Fine.” She draws her magnificent bow, reinforced with lyrium mined from the heart of the Titans itself.

Solas calls out, “Sylaise made her armor—there’s a flaw just above the right hip, where it curves to show off her shape. The silverite is weakest there. Stab well, my friend. And quickly, if you do want my entrails.”

Andruil shrieks, “Shut up,” but Anaris blurs, skin tearing into bear hide and his skull elongating into a bestial mix of lizard, bear, and elf. The two gods wrestle; Solas hurriedly rolls out of their way, towards the tree Felassan climbed. His nose is bleeding from the kick in the face, and his bottom lip is swollen. He holds up his wrists, and then twists them, easily slipping a hand out. He gestures: throw down a knife.

Anaris is stabbing wildly at Andruil now, trying desperately to get at the weak spot at her right hip. Andruil has her hands fixed around his throat. Felassan passes down the knife, unwilling to get involved in the carnage. Solas, rather than cutting through the bonds at his feet, stabs it into the grass and leans over the hilt, hiding it from view. He puts his hand back into the loops of rope, and waits.

“Try a sixty-degree angle,” he suggests idly. “No, twist the knife, if you please.”

Andruil’s hands fall from Anaris’ neck and he stands up, baring his bruised throat at the Dread Wolf. The Dread Wolf stares at him, amused. Anaris says, “Dead.”

Fen’Harel says, “Unlikely, but you are welcome for the break. Twist her neck to make sure. You owe me your victory, Anaris.” He smiles, teeth showing. Above, Felassan shudders slightly. He’s left his wolf’s teeth in—normally he eschews mixing shape as gauche. “She would have killed you outright, if I had not helped. You owe me my freedom.” He makes a show of displaying the ropes around his wrists.

“Go fuck yourself,” Anaris says angrily. “Fuck off, you halfbreed whoreson slavey bastard. I will burn my mark into your flesh, you imbecilic—” A gold-tipped arrow protrudes from his throat. His eyes widen, he tries to scream, but his knees crumble. Anaris collapses to the ground. Andruil, eyes flashing blood, drops her bow.

“My victory,” she says. “I never lose.” She presses a hand to her bleeding side and stumbles over to Solas. He scrabbles back, but she has him cornered against the trunk. Felassan pulls out his own bow and aims.

Andruil prints her bloody hand onto Solas’ face and pushes his head against the tree. Quickly he tugs his hand free of the ropes and grabs at the knife he hid, stabbing at her back. The armor dents the knife, and Felassan sees Solas begin to panic, but then she coughs in his face and falls over.

“Fuck,” Solas says. Felassan jumps down and quickly cuts the ropes at his ankles. Solas slowly pulls himself up, massaging his feet. “They’re in uthenera now, dreaming their wounds away.”

“And you’re naked,” Felassan says.

“And covered in the blood of my enemies,” he returns, holding his hands out. “Like one of Andruil’s own slaves.” He wipes at his face, but only succeeds in smearing the blood across his face. “Let us go—before they wake.” And so, they escape. Felassan tells everyone Solas chewed through the ropes, because that is better than the alternative: being drenched in the blood of your enemies, naked and afraid.

#dragon age fanfiction #dragon age fanfic #dragon age #dai #the masked empire #felassan #solas #felassan/solas #solas/felassan #solas rarepair #mlm rarepair #dragon age slash #ultramarine #dark comedy #sorta political intrigue #arlathan #solas in the arlathan days #pre-canon #andruil #mythal #sylaise #dirthamen #geldauron #anaris #evanuris #forgotten ones #wild mass mostly incorrect guessing #red lyrium

[edenmemes]

the witcher (show) starters

❝ victimhood is not your colour. ❞ ❝ you can’t outrun destiny just because you’re terrified of it. ❞ ❝ your job is to control chaos, not to succumb to it. ❞ ❝ you don’t deserve the air you breathe. ❞ ❝ not a single person alive looks in the mirror and doesn’t see some form of deformity. ❞ ❝ you lie, you keep secrets. you succumb to emotion and weakness. ❞ ❝ not answering questions is part of your brooding pillar of charm. ❞ ❝ you’re just mad because you lost your chance to be beautiful. ❞ ❝ you smell of death and destiny, heroics and heartbreak. ❞ ❝ there’s no power in puppeting fools. ❞ ❝ i’ll leave that for someone who gives a shit. ❞ ❝ i need to get back to my horse. ❞ ❝ your will to live is strong. ❞ ❝ i’m still not enough. even for you. ❞ ❝ need a hand? i’ve got two. ❞  ❝ my men will kill you. ❞ ❝ i’m here to drink alone. ❞ ❝ go. on your own or at the end of a rope, your choice. ❞ ❝ do you know how many people wouldn’t blink if you died? ❞ ❝ you weren’t taking control. you were losing it. ❞ ❝ people call you a monster too. ❞ ❝ i've waited all these years for you to admit we're made for each other. ❞ ❝ if only you could tell between friend or threat. do you even know the difference anymore? ❞ ❝ when you live as long as i do, all the names sound the same. ❞ ❝ were you in love? ❞ ❝ this place isn’t safe when you’re alone. ❞ ❝ the only thing you do quickly is flee. ❞ ❝ even if you were a beauty, still, no one would love you. ❞ ❝ not a happily ever after after all. ❞ ❝ hm, doesn’t rhyme. all good predictions rhyme. ❞ ❝ you are making me uncomfortable. ❞ ❝ unchecked kings and queens start massacres. ❞  ❝ i just want some damn peace. ❞ ❝ i dreamed of becoming important to someone someday. ❞ ❝ the only thing special about you is the crown on your head. ❞ ❝ what do you long for? fame? money? power? ❞ �� what? no one mentioned the impending doom part. ❞ ❝ true words are rare words. ❞ ❝ i want more. i have to be more. ❞ ❝ do other women find this coarseness charming? ❞ ❝ love casts long shadows. ❞ ❝ if she runs, kill her. ❞ ❝ don’t give me that look, shitling. ❞ ❝ today isn’t your day, is it? ❞ ❝ how come when my life comes to shit you’re the one shoveling it? ❞ ❝ i know who you are. what you are. ❞ ❝ i envy you. to live, and to have no love. ❞ ❝ you’d leave a man bound to die in such a dignity? ❞ ❝ i loved your mother. ❞ ❝ don’t you know who i am? ❞ ❝ so that’s all life is to you? monsters and money? ❞ ❝ there’s a vortex of fate around us. ❞ ❝ is history a wheel doomed to repeat? ❞ ❝ the sword of destiny has two edges. ❞ ❝ i’ve considered your company and conversation payment enough. ❞ ❝ this isn’t who you are. ❞ ❝ will you be joining me? ❞ ❝ no amount of power or beauty will make you feel worthy of either. ❞ ❝ i don’t believe anyone has that power. ❞  ❝ nobody smart plays fair. ❞ ❝ i won’t listen to a man who pimps the world as some romantic adventure. ❞ ❝ a true man would state his desires. ❞ ❝ don’t turn this on me. ❞ ❝ i want to be powerful. it’s what i’m owed. ❞ ❝ that makes sense just as much as it doesn’t. ❞  ❝ you’re smart, aren’t you? you know everything. ❞ ❝ i feel something out there waits for you. ❞  ❝ please don’t hurt me. i’m lost. ❞  ❝ i won’t kill you...but you cant stay here. ❞  ❝ there’s no ‘us’. there’s only me. ❞  ❝ i’m asking for a teeny-weeny little favor. ❞  ❝ yeah, you’re probably right. but what if you’re not? ❞ ❝ i’m not your friend. ❞  ❝ you and destiny can both fuck right off. ❞  ❝ i love the way you just sit in the corner and brood. ❞ ❝ i will not suffer tonight sober. ❞  ❝ pretty ballads hide bastard truths. ❞  ❝ i will not involve myself to petty men’s squabbles. ❞ ❝ happy childhood makes for dull company. ❞ ❝ it’s impossible to be prepared for every battle. keep your sword close, and keep moving. ❞  ❝ i see a lot of myself in you. ❞ ❝ you can’t change the world this way. ❞ ❝ i don’t need anyone. & the last thing i want is someone needing me. ❞ ❝ alright, stand close to me and pretend you’re mean. ❞ ❝ why are you dressed like a sad silk trader? ❞  ❝ only one of us will be alive to find out. ❞  ❝ i stole rather than starve. i killed rather than be killed. ❞  ❝ i have’t only done good in my life either. ❞  ❝ it’s like ordering a pie and finding out it has no filling. ❞  ❝ when i cut my finger i bleed. that’s human, right? ❞  ❝ they’re rough around the edges but they’re earthling like me. ❞  ❝ royalty is best endured in small doses. ❞  ❝ i thought the world needed me too. ❞  ❝ sometimes, the best thing a flower can do for us is die. ❞  ❝ handy with a blade. handy with women too. ❞ ❝ are you trying to hurt my feelings? ❞ ❝ you look like you’ve been through hell. ❞ ❝ i can’t do this without you. ❞ ❝ you know cautionary tales won’t work on me. ❞ ❝ you talk nonsense while making wise and meaningful faces. ❞ ❝ the apple never falls far from the tree. ❞ ❝ when i go it will be far more dramatic than this. ❞ ❝ try not to get any daggers in your back before dawn. ❞ ❝ you have your mother’s blood. you’ll be alright. ❞ ❝ a great ruler always chooses mercy. ❞ ❝ it took two strikes to kill him. they weren’t clean. but they were spectacular. ❞ ❝ if i have to choose between one evil and another, i’d rather not choose. ❞ ❝ i would do anything to forget who i was. ❞ ❝ i have no doubt blood will be spilled here tonight. ❞ ❝ there’s a grain of truth in every fairy tale. ❞ ❝ people look at you for who you are, not what you can give them. ❞ ❝ do you believe in destiny now? ❞ ❝ we can leave. we can find a way out. ❞ ❝ lovers? fun for a bit, i’ll admit, but all eventually disappoint. ❞ ❝ let’s face it, you’re a girl. we’re just vessels. and even when we’re told we’re special, we’re still just vessels…for them to take…and take…until we’re empty…and alone. ❞ ❝ people like to invent monsters and monstrosities. then they seem less monstrous themselves. ❞ ❝ every time i’m around you i say more in five minutes than i’ve said in weeks. ❞ ❝ maybe someone out there will want you. ❞ ❝ if you must kill me, i’m ready. ❞ ❝ people linked by destiny always find each other. ❞ ❝ thank the gods. i might live to see another day. ❞ ❝ i was having a rather lovely dream which then turned into a nightmare. ❞ ❝ you desperately need money for new clothes.  ❞ ❝ more and more, i find monsters where ever i go. ❞ ❝ life is too short. do what pleases you...while you can. ❞ ❝ gods you’re pretty. ❞ ❝ my lady, i would never degrade your honor in such a way. ❞ ❝ my world is cruel. you enter, you survive, you die. ❞ ❝ i feel i shall die a broken hearted man. ❞ ❝ who slits a man’s throat while he’s relieving his bowels? ❞ ❝ why help those who don’t listen? ❞ 

#roleplay starters #roleplay meme #sentence starters

[yoongiseesawmp3]

brown piano - yoongi

i’ve never written fic on this account before so bear with me, but here’s a little something about the only man i trust. and no i will not be capitalizing anything xx

summary: friends to lovers. yoongi and y/n have known each other casually for a couple years and never intended to take their friendship further than a few study groups together or the occasional dinner with friends. but being in the same applied piano class has brought them together, and their mutual love for epik high bonds them more than they’d like to admit. 

warnings: language, probably. there’s a couple cliches in here too, i couldn’t help it. i probably only refer to yoongi as a honey dumpling twice 

word count: 8.3k (its really just a long ass love letter to bv4/in the soop yoongi)

playlist: end of the world - epik high, gsoul / love song - epik high, park sung woong / go - epik high / can you hear my heart - epik high, lee hi / life is good - epik high, jay park

“fuck,” you whisper, nimble fingers slipping over the wrong keys once again. for a music composition major, you’re pretty lousy at practicing your instrument. mostly because you practice and mess up and get so frustrated that you stop for a minute to scroll through your phone and before you know it, your time in the practice room is over. 

the time limit on your practice contributes to your stress, but the keyboard you keep tucked in the corner of your apartment just doesn’t do this song justice. a lot of the students in the school of music ignore this room, because the old brown spinet creaks too much for their “high class” performances, but you like it for its personality and the all-encompassing feeling it gives to your songs. when you play this piano, you can’t help but listen to its song. a keyboard or a grand can easily become background music to you, but this one is stubborn. it will not be ignored, so you come back to it when you need to fall in love with a song again. 

the pinging of your phone pulls you out of your daydreams about the daunting black and white keys in front of you, and you check the time left on your reservation before opening your messages. 

it’s a text from yoongi, who’s been talking to you more often lately. usually you just exchange pleasantries with each other when your big group of friends happens to get together, but you’re both in this applied piano class and it was nice to have a familiar face among the pretentious students you struggle to get through lectures with. 

the quiet music technology major never caught your attention before this class, because he never had much to say when you were talking in passing. but this class has taken your friendship from nonexistent to yoongi texting you semi creepy photos of you through the practice room door with the text “your posture is shit, that’s probably why you keep messing up.” you swivel around on the bench to glance at the door and notice a mop of black hair in the distance. he must be finishing up a session in one of the studios because he’s usually your competition for this practice room. the piano reminds him of the one he played growing up, he says, so it’s the easiest for him to practice on. he’s more gifted than you are however, so he doesn’t need to practice for class as much as you do. hell, he could probably think of a song to play on the spot and still ace the performance midterm without another thought. 

“where are you headed?” you text back, shuffling your sheet music together as neatly as possible before you start gathering the rest of your things. “i sounded so bad that you’re running away?”

“no,” he replies, and you can picture his shoulders shaking with a silent laugh. “need coffee.”

“omw,” you text quickly, going from tenderly placing things in your bag to slightly shoving them down enough to zip everything up securely. you gaze sadly at the piano before you leave. you really should try and practice some more, you have a few minutes left in the room, but you let out a sigh and head for the door instead. you need coffee and your dumpling shaped friend right now. hopefully the combination will help you get over some of your stress.

you find yoongi just outside, leaning up against a pillar of the building with his hands in his pockets and a bucket hat that he’s produced out of nowhere pulled over his head. he peeks up at you from under the brim when he hears the rickety doors clang shut, and he smiles slightly before pushing himself off the stone column. 

“how’s the song coming?” he asks casually, leading the way to your mutual favorite coffeeshop like it’s second nature. which honestly, it’s getting to be like that. how did you go from barely knowing yoongi to spending almost every day with him? 

“uh, my fingers don’t work anymore i think,” you explain. “i’ll get it though. i just need to practice more.”

“i could always help you,” he offers. you quirk an eyebrow at him and he continues. “like, i could listen and maybe watch the way you’re playing, and if there’s a spot you’re constantly messing up on i’ll just know to cough a lot during that part of your performance so the professor doesn’t hear it.”

“wow, who would’ve thought that min yoongi would be my knight in shining armor,” you joke. “what were you working on?”

“another song for my mixtape,” he tells you simply. “i want to sample an epik high song, but i can’t find one that fits the vibe yet.” 

“hmm,” you think. “you’ll find one. or you can wait for their new album and use something off of that.”

“yeah, but i won’t have the same connection to those songs that i do with the old ones, you know?” 

“then just go back to your favorites. have you tried doing something like lesson one?” you ask as you arrive at the coffeeshop. yoongi opens the door for you and ushers you inside, scooting you out of the way so someone zooming by on a bird scooter doesn’t accidentally clip your heel. 

“when i first started working on this i tried doing my own version of it, but i don’t think anything i have to say would be better than tablo,” he explains.

“that’s not how you should be thinking when you’re making music,” you scold. “whatever you make will be worth listening to, and whatever you say in those songs will mean something. thinking like that will only limit what you make, min yoongi.”

he pauses and looks at you with an unreadable expression before he pulls his lips into a straight smile and nods. 

“huh. you’re right, y/n,” he sighs. 

“and for that little nugget of wisdom,” you say, “you owe me a coffee. toffee n-”

“toffee nut latte with no sugar, i remember,” he says, cutting you off as he pulls out his wallet. “what size?”

“considering i’m a little high strung from not nailing my song yet, probably a small,” you tell him. he nods and orders you a medium anyway and gets a muffin for you two to split. you fall into a comfortable silence as you wait for your order, but yoongi breaks it after checking his phone.

“namjoon wants to know if you’re free this weekend,” he deadpans, making it sound like a statement when it’s meant to be a question.

“i don’t know, why?” you ask, pulling the warmed muffin closer to you. you start picking out one of the chocolate chips before you continue. “isn’t it fall break? i’ll probably stay here and practice. it’s too short of a break for me to go home.”

“apparently we’re all staying in a cabin or a box or something up in the mountains,” yoongi says. “it’s supposed to be a combined birthday trip for him and jungkook, i think it might just be the guys but he says you’re welcome to come with us. he says you look stressed.”

“why does he think i look stressed?!” 

“because you do,” namjoon says, popping up beside you from one of the couches against the wall. he must have been buried in a book or his laptop, because neither of you noticed him when you first walked in. he gives you a casual side hug, tussling your hair and talking to yoongi above your head. “hey hyung.”

yoongi grunts a hello in response, and you share an eye roll with namjoon before he goes on about the whole mountain thing. he explains where it is, how long you’ll stay, and some of the other specifics that have already been arranged. it sounds nice, so maybe you should go.

“you should really come,” namjoon half pleads. “it’s kind of last minute, so not many of our friends can make it, but we need you to be the dj for the weekend. and i think you deserve a break.”

“you do,” yoongi chimes in, picking up your drinks and leading your small group to a table near the window. “it’ll help you come back to the song later without getting tired of it. you should never be frustrated when you’re playing.”

“i guess i’ll consider it,” you say. “you’re lucky i live too far away to go home for just a couple days, otherwise i would have to turn you down.”

“and i don’t need that kind of rejection on my birthday,” namjoon teases.

“your birthday was last month,” yoongi points out. 

“but i’m celebrating it now, hyung. birthday rules still count for the celebration of said birthday.”

“yeah, but it’s not fair that you played the birthday card then and you’re doing it again now...”

sipping your latte, you laugh to yourself as yoongi and namjoon go on with their petty argument. you notice a fleck of chocolate on yoongi’s lip from the muffin, and you involuntarily lift your hand to wipe it off, but you stop yourself before it can be noticeable. you just let your hand fall to your coffee cup and take another sip of your drink, thinking about how many clean sweaters you have that you can wear this weekend. 

-

you end up in the car with jin, hoseok and yoongi on the way to the cabin that they all rented. you’ve been roped into cooking duties for the weekend, and the four of you went grocery shopping before heading up to the mountains to meet everyone else. actually, you begged them to let you cook, bring booze, anything, since they didn’t let you chip in for the weekend at all in the first place.

“i’m not going to invite you last minute and then make you pay for anything,” yoongi told you clearly as you left the coffeeshop after talking to namjoon. “plus, jimin owes me at least $50 for ruining one of my mics, so i’ll just make him pay extra.”

like namjoon said, you are technically the dj for the weekend. you know the guys well enough to know what kind of music they want to listen to, so you crafted the perfect road trip playlist and shared it with hoseok, who’s in the front seat. he’s groaning and skipping each song he doesn’t like while jin calmly drives, complaining every now and then when hoseok skips a song jin knows all the words to.

and yoongi? well, he’s quietly scrolling through his phone beside you in the backseat. jin insisted on you sitting back there, claiming hoseok has some kind of carsickness that only appears when he sits in the back, so that meant you and yoongi were cramped in the tight space together. no biggie, but you keep bumping elbows with him, and you have to pee, and you didn’t sleep enough the night before so you’re already a little testy. you try to situate yourself so you hopefully forget about your need for a restroom and you bump into yoongi once again, and it sets you off. you don’t do anything aside from shoot him an angry glare before huffing a little bit and adjusting yourself so you’re fully looking out the window next to you. a few moments pass in silence save for the sound of go by epik high playing over the speakers. 

you’re pulled from your mini rant session in your head to, oh my god, yoongi nudging your arm. you’re ready to give him a piece of your mind when you turn to lock eyes with him, but the delicately peeled tangerine that he’s offering you is so...confusing? and slightly endearing, so you abandon your plan to be mean to him and just graciously take the sweet fruit. 

“where’d you get this?” you ask as you pull apart the half he handed to you.

“did he give you a tangerine?” hoseok asks with a smile, peeking at you both in the rearview mirror. 

“yeah, like out of nowhere too.”

“if it’s oddly warm y/n, don’t be alarmed. he keeps them in his pockets for safekeeping,” jin explains.

“in your pocket?” you laugh, making yoongi’s cheeks tinge pink. “have you ever sat on one?”

“i don’t wanna talk about it,” he grumbles, bowing his head to focus on peeling off the stringy white skin left on his slices of citrus. the car falls into silence again and you notice everyone bobbing along to the epik high song still playing. you smile to yourself and finally pop a piece of the tangerine into your mouth. 

it’s maybe the sweetest thing you’ve ever eaten, and you surprise yourself by thinking for a moment that its sweetness could be due to the fact that it came from yoongi. 

“are you still working on your mixtape hyung?” hoseok questions, once again warmly breaking the quiet of the car.

“yeah, why?”

“have you tried doing something like this?” he asks, referring to the last few bars of go that play as jin turns down a road that must be just seconds away from the house, it looks exactly like the pictures the boys have shown you and you let out a sigh of relief at the thought of a bathroom and a bed. 

“i have,” yoongi starts, peeking at you without turning his head. “y/n suggested it, actually. we talked about going back to this album for inspiration and it’s helped a lot.”

“it has?” you ask, beaming at the thought of bringing yoongi out of his funk with your mutual love of this group. yoongi simply shrugs and makes some non committal sound as the car comes to a stop.

“alright everybody, thank you for riding jin express. please don’t forget to rate and tip this ride in the app once you exit the vehicle,” jin jokes. everyone shuffles to get out of the car, and as hoseok pops the trunk you’re reminded that you really should start cooking right away. you politely ask hoseok to bring your bag in with his stuff, and he promises not to drop it before you grab some of the groceries and head for the kitchen. 

-

once everything is taken care of and the cars are unloaded, you find yourself in the middle of a crowded kitchen full of ingredients and booze and boys. not a bad place to be.

hoseok did bring your bag in for you, you can see it laying by the couch a few steps away from the kitchen island. you’ll just have to hope there’s a room left for you at the end of the night, because your back won’t do well on a sofa.

“so what are we making, chef min?” you ask, washing your hands after playfully pushing jimin out of the way.

“carbonara,” he says simply. “namjoon’s request.”

“and did you get what i asked for hyung?” jungkook asks, several beer bottles distributed evenly between both his hands. as he waits for yoongi’s answer he passes the bottles around until everyone has a drink and he looks satisfied.

“yeah, we got the pizza stuff. we’ll make it tomorrow when we watch the movie.”

“what movie are we watching?” you’re curious, only because the last movie you watched with them was one you’ve all seen hundreds of times collectively so it was less watching and more reciting the movie line for line.

“that’s a secret,” jungkook says with a glint in his eyes. “my choice.”

“it’s gonna be some sappy love story, i’d bet ten bucks on it,” jin jokes.

“make it twenty and i’m in,” taehyung adds. 

“oh you’re on.”

-

despite never cooking together before, you and yoongi are a well oiled machine. you receive some help from jin in the form of chopping or washing, but for the most part it’s you preparing everything, from the chicken to the sauce and handing it off to yoongi to be finished in the biggest pot of pasta you’ve ever seen. it smells amazing though, and you’ve attracted a park jimin who’s a few drinks ahead of the chefs and he has a mischievous idea in his head.

“so how long have you two known each other?” he starts out innocently, speaking more to you than to yoongi. 

“uh, i guess i met yoongi at a party freshman year, when i met all of you. but he was arguing with someone, so i didn’t get to say much. just introduced myself and moved on,” you explain. “we haven’t really been friends, at least i would say, until we took this piano class together.”

“and how’s that going?”

“fine, considering he and i are the most competent out of all of them,” you state matter of factly, earning a chuckle from yoongi.

“most of the kids in there took this class thinking it’d be an easy elective grade.” yoongi adds, sliding beside you and reaching across to grab the colander you just used to drain some vegetables. as he retreats you catch a whiff of his cologne and a hint of tangerine. you smile to yourself and turn back to jimin.

“plus yoongi and i played the same song for our first assignment, so i had to confront him about that to establish dominance.”

jimin laughs maybe too much at this, and yoongi pipes in from the stove to quickly change the subject.

“y/n, i’m gonna need the cheese for the topping soon.”

“yes chef!”

dinner is ready soon after that. jimin had to be removed from the kitchen for tasting things that weren’t quite cooked yet, and jin took his place next to you. it seems that all of the boys are interested in learning more about the person that yoongi insisted on inviting this weekend, but you don’t know that. after a final taste test from the three of you and several approving nods, jin summons everyone from the rest of the house.

“it’s ready!!!” jin yells. it’s too loud for the situation but you’ll soon learn that these boys usually are. it gets their attention though, because one by one they file into the kitchen and grab plates and start serving themselves. you get your own plate and follow behind taehyung, who’s currently wearing a blanket cape. while you wait, you feel a tap on your shoulder and turn around to find yoongi.

“y/n, i already made you a plate,” he tells you, holding up one of the two plates in his hands. “c’mon.”

“oh, thank you,” you reply, returning the plate in your hands and gratefully taking the one yoongi extends to you. 

“did you hear that? he made y/n’s plate and not mine,” jungkook pouts.

“yeah, my feelings are hurt,” jimin whines. 

“at least it’s not your birthday!”

“i wouldn’t have made you a plate no matter what, jimin,” yoongi defends himself. “but i wanted to be sure y/n sat next to me, i was at the food, i got a second plate. no biggie.”

“leave the man alone,” namjoon cuts in. “he’s being a good host to the outsider.”

“outsider?!” you ask incredulously. “i just made you dinner. be nice to me, birthday boy.”

“y/n, i looooooove you,” jungkook coos, plopping down at the table across from you and yoongi. “it looks delicious.”

“it really does,” namjoon agrees. “thanks for making it. especially you, y/n. you didn’t have to.”

“i don’t mind,” you shrug. “besides, i wasn’t sure how well any of you could cook and i didn’t want to eat shit for the weekend, so...”

your sly remark is met with a chorus of insulted voices, mostly from jin and yoongi, but jimin pipes in that he’s good at everything while namjoon and taehyung insist that they “try their best” in the kitchen, and jungkook just nods and says something about ramen for eight. 

“yoongi’s quite the chef, actually,” jin says. “he can make almost anything.”

“that’s impressive,” you say with a nod, peeking at yoongi. his cheeks are turning pink ever so slightly. 

“yeah, you should ask him to cook for you sometime,” jin continues. “maybe after one of your late nights in the music building.”

there are knowing glances exchanged all across the table, but you and yoongi are oblivious. he hasn’t looked up from his plate in a few minutes just to be safe, and you really have no clue, you think it’s some best friend inside joke. which it is, depending on how you read the situation. namjoon brings the attention back to what the plan is for tomorrow, and the little tension between you and yoongi dissolves without notice until it’s time for bed.

after dinner, everyone went their separate ways, jin and jungkook flocking to the game console in the living room with hoseok watching on, jimin and taehyung made a mess of the kitchen as they cleaned up after dinner, and you found yourself outside by the fire with namjoon while yoongi shuffled through the cars, mumbling about some bag of producing equipment he couldn’t seem to find. it was easy hanging out with them, which is saying something considering that these boys are basically family. but they’ve welcomed you with open arms, and it isn’t until you’re bundled up with a nice blanket and a crisp cider that you realize how much you needed a break like this.

your eyes start drooping as you stare into the fire, and namjoon seems to have the same idea as you because you both stretch at the same time and mumble something about going to sleep. he says he’ll handle the fire, and you take the blanket from his chair, along with yours, and trudge back into the living room.

“hey, where did you guys put my stuff?” you ask, looking behind the couch where you noticed your bags earlier. jimin and jungkook are the only ones left awake, and jimin glances at you quickly before replying.

“i think jin brought your things upstairs, y/n,” he explains. “first door on the left.”

“oh, thanks,” you reply, gently laying the blankets on the back of the couch before you head to the stairs. “night guys.”

“good niiight,” they both sing-song back, and you laugh as you shuffle up to your room. 

the door is closed, so you reach out to open it with no hesitation, but when you see yoongi sprawled out on the bed, you jump a little.

“damn, y/n, you scared me,” he mutters, sitting up and dropping the notebook he had been scribbling in. “do you need something?”

“uh, no?” you reply, looking around. “i just, um, jimin said this was my room, so, i guess i opened the wrong door, is all.”

“wait, are those your bags? i thought they were namjoon’s,” yoongi says, pointing to, yep, your bags, laying at the foot of the bed. 

“what?” namjoon asks, poking his head into the room. “i’m with jungkook.”

“are there any rooms left?” you ask, looking between them both. “i don’t want to intrude, so if i have to sleep on the couch-”

“what’s with all the chit chat?!” jin whisper yells, popping his head out of the room across the hall. 

“y/n doesn’t have a room,” namjoon answers.

“no, y/n is sleeping with yoongi,” jin says, face twisting into a smile once he realizes his wording. “i mean, the two of you are sharing a room. you have the biggest bed, so i thought it would be more comfortable.”

“are you sure there isn’t another room one of us can sleep in?” yoongi asks with a certain emotion hidden in his voice that you can’t quite place.

“nope, y/n is your friend, so you’re stuck together,” jin says with finality. “now shut up, i already have to listen to hoseok snoring, i don’t want to hear any more bickering about beds.”

“hey, i don’t snore!” a voice, obviously hoseok, shouts from behind jin. 

“good night!” jin laughs, shutting his door. namjoon chuckles as well, giving you and yoongi a sympathetic shrug before he heads to his own room. leaving you all alone with yoongi. you slowly turn back to him, quietly shutting the door behind you.

“i, uh-”

“sorry-”

“no, you go.”

“i was just gonna say i could sleep on the floor,” yoongi offers, but before he can even finish his sentence you’re shaking your head.

“no way,” you refuse. “it’ll be no biggie, right?”

“right,” he agrees. 

“right,” you nod, convincing yourself that this isn’t as awkward as it seems. “i’m, uh, gonna go change in the bathroom though.”

“that would be smart.”

-

falling asleep in the same bed as yoongi was no big deal. really, what was the harm? it’s not like this trip has awakened feelings for him that you didn’t know you had...except it absolutely has. which is why you’re so freaked out in the morning when you wake up next to the man you just dreamt about cuddling all night. 

wait.

your pillow wasn’t that warm when you went to sleep. 

and you weren’t holding onto anything either.

cool, yeah, no big deal, definitely. you’re just latched onto yoongi’s arm while you drool on his shoulder. very attractive and not at all weird friend behavior. as you’re silently freaking out, eyes barely open, you register warm breath hitting the top of your head, and you look up to catch yoongi staring at you.

“oh, shit, sorry,” he stutters, pulling his arm from your grasp too soon. “i’m sorry, i wasn’t, like, i was trying to figure out if you were awake or not-”

“yoongi, it’s fine,” you laugh. “you staring at me is better than me turning you into my personal teddy bear. sorry about that.”

“you’re good,” he mumbles, sitting up. his hand rubs at the back of his neck, something you register as his go to nervous habit, as he keeps speaking. “it was nice actually. uh, because of the cold.”

“right,” you say, smiling to yourself. a layer of silence falls over you both as you lay there and yoongi fumbles for a minute on his phone. now you’re the one staring, looking up at yoongi’s delicate features like someone just took a blindfold off of you and you’re seeing the world in such a clear, sharp image. you’re noticing yoongi like you’ve never noticed him before. 

to stop yourself from memorizing the outline of yoongi’s profile, you pull the covers off and get out of bed, groaning at the cold. you throw on an extra hoodie and some wool socks, noticing yoongi doing the same. once you’re both dressed, you’re staring at each other again, and the silence returns. it’s not awkward, just heavy, and you break it with a simple, “yoongi?”

“yeah?”

“don’t tell the guys i drooled on you, please.”

“as long as you don’t tell them i was staring at you.”

-

the kitchen is buzzing more than you thought it’d be, cups of coffee already poured and the stove sizzling with eggs, sausage and some sad attempt at pancakes. last night when taehyung said he tries to cook, this must be what he meant, because the finished plate of “pancakes” looks like...a good try. 

you beeline for the coffee, inhaling the comforting scent and enjoying the warmth it brings to your fingers. as you take your first sip you realize the boys have been quiet since you and yoongi ambled downstairs.

“so,” jungkook begins. “how’d you two sleep?”

“fine,” you both reply simultaneously, raising a few eyebrows from your audience. convincing. 

“sorry,” you apologize. “not a morning person.”

“neither is yoongi,” namjoon notes. 

“seems like it’s a good thing you’re sharing a room then,” jimin says over the rim of his coffee mug, smug smirk not as clearly hidden as he’d like it to be.

“hyung,” taehyung pouts from the stove. “can you help me with these?”

“i’m not good at flour-based things,” yoongi replies without a glance, deepening the pathetic pout on the chef’s face.

“i can help you, tae,” you offer, sliding past him and taking the spatula. he utters his gratefulness, going as far as kissing your hand, and yoongi finds his ears flaring red at the sight. chill out, he thinks to himself. tae’s just being tae. 

but jin notices the change in yoongi’s demeanor after taehyung’s playfulness. it seems that when it comes to the two of you, one of the boys will always notice something before either of you do. 

-

ok, so, something that wasn’t made totally clear to you is the fact that this is a ski trip, the main event of the weekend is skiing, and here you are with nothing thicker than a nice sweater to keep you warm. maybe it was mentioned in passing and you just didn’t pick up on it, but the conversation last night at dinner made you realize how under prepared you were. 

that’s how you end up shuffling through the ski lodge down the street, laden in several borrowed layers. an extra pair of pants from jimin, a hoodie from jungkook and a jacket from hoseok. and yoongi’s gloves, which he insists he won’t need because he suddenly has to work on his mixtape before he loses his inspiration. you wonder if it’s the sight of the mountain covered in artificial snow that does it, because you’re even thinking about how you wish you could paint or draw so you can capture the true beauty of this place. 

but yoongi knows the reason he has to write these lyrics down now is because of the lingering feeling of you holding onto his arm, head on his shoulder and delicate breaths brushing over his chest as you slept so peacefully. in all honesty, yes, he had been staring at you, for quite some time actually. and it was while he stared that he got the idea for this song. 

so, yeah, he needs to write it down now, and he figures the best time to do it without prying eyes is while everyone is occupied with skiing. he hunkers down in the ski lodge, promising to watch everyone’s stuff as the rest of you layer up and carry the rented equipment outside to the slopes. you follow jimin and taehyung to the bunny slope while jin, namjoon and hoseok go toward the snowboard-only trails with jungkook deciding on the competition style ski slope. as you walk out, you look back at yoongi, admiring the concentrated look on his face as he passionately writes down whatever is on his mind, and for the briefest moment, you hope that he’s writing about you.

-

“i’m never going skiing again,” jimin declares, dropping all of his wet clothes in the living room of the rental as soon as he gets inside. “why did i fall down so much? how did i get so wet because of that?”

“well, jimin, snow is just frozen water, and water is wet, right?” namjoon teases. jimin’s response is to throw a soaking scarf at namjoon, gross ski slope water flinging everywhere in its wake.

“ew, jimin!” you yell, dodging the tail end of the scarf as it makes a terrible sound when it collides with namjoon’s chest. 

“he deserved it.”

“yeah well now i’m covered in your gross sweat water too,” you whine. jimin acts like he’s going to throw something else wet and squishy your way, and you shriek before you dodge behind yoongi as protection.

“don’t get me involved in this,” he groans. you mumble an apology, secretly wiping some of the water off on his scarf.

“i’m gonna go change,” you tell him. “so knock before you come in.”

yoongi nods in response, heading toward the kitchen to get out the ingredients for dinner tonight. as per jungkook’s request, you’ll be assembling your own pizzas, which means you’re off the hook for cooking, at least. everything is premade, it just has to be warmed in the oven, and jin has already declared himself the pizza master, so you just get to enjoy.

“wait, y/n!” yoongi semi-shouts, stopping you on the first step of the staircase. “can you take this up with you? you can put it on top of my black bag.”

“which one, you have three,” you playfully dig, taking the bundle from his hands anyway. it’s his jacket from earlier wrapped around something, his journal maybe? and you tuck it under your arm as you continue upstairs.

you drop the bundle on top of yoongi’s things, knowing he’ll grumble about it messing up how neatly he arranged all of his bags and their contents. that’s why you find yourself peeking back at it after you’ve changed. plus the nagging feeling in your brain that maybe, just maybe, there’s something written about you in there has you tip-toeing to the corner of the room before you gingerly pick his jacket up, letting his notebook tumble out. you hold back, neatly folding the jacket and draping it over one bag before you lean down to grab the notebook, which happened to fall face down, pages open. 

it’s not a crime that you glance at the words as you pick it up, and you’re reading the whole page before you can stop yourself. you’re about to start on the next group of words when you hear a knock at the door, and you drop the notebook, feeling caught. you scramble to put it neatly with his jacket, but the words inside are running through your head as you call out to yoongi that he can come in. 

if he knows that you were snooping, he doesn’t show it. he simply thanks you for folding his things, and you nod at him quickly before you duck out of the room and go back to the kitchen, all the while thinking about the lyrics that made your stomach do backflips while at the same time making your heart feel totally content. what you read on that page was pure comfort embodied in a few words, and it came from the comfort yoongi feels when he’s around you. you recognize that feeling, those words resonating because that’s the same way you feel when you’re around him. you smile to yourself, thinking about how to confront yoongi about this. 

except you can’t. because then he’ll know you were looking at his things, his innermost thoughts. you know how personal his lyrics are to him, and you know he’d be upset that you looked without his permission. so you resign yourself to making your sad little pizza, distracting your mind with cheese, cheese and more cheese. hoseok must notice the gloomy look on your face, because there’s suddenly a ball of sunshine at your side. he slides ingredients onto your pizza without you knowing, until you look down and see a smiley face staring back at you. you can’t help but laugh and lean into his warmth, giggling as he makes up some silly voice for the new pizza face he created. 

yoongi enters the kitchen at that moment, seeing how you smile at hoseok like that, laughing so easily at his actions, and suddenly the song he was so eager to write, to compose, to pour his heart into, suddenly he wants to go upstairs and burn the pages. he won’t, because he knows he’s just being jealous, but he distances himself immediately, silently helping jin with slicing some fresh onion or prepping the oven for another pizza. yoongi was ready to show the song to you after dinner, but now...maybe he never will. 

-

once you’ve all eaten an unhealthy amount of food, and consumed an impressive amount of alcohol (”we have to finish it before we leave!!” - jimin), you’re all gathered in the living room to watch a movie, another jungkook choice. it’s some sappy love story, and you find yourself looking over at yoongi each time something touching happens onscreen. jin notices as well, nudging yoongi the next time he sees your eyes drift in their direction. yoongi acknowledges jin, who directs yoongi’s attention to you, and when your eyes meet you can see something has changed. you turn away, looking back up at the tv and shivering despite the warm fire just a few feet away. taehyung, sitting next to you on the floor, offers you a corner of his blanket, and you take it, scooting closer to him as you try to focus on the terrible plot of this movie.

the boring movie, the warmth of tae along with the fire, and the two glasses of yoongi’s fancy whiskey you wanted to try now sitting in your stomach all lull you to sleep at some point. tae shuffling around next to you wakes you up, and in your stupor you look around and can’t find who you’re looking for.

“where’s yoongi?” you mumble with a yawn.

“already in bed,” taehyung explains. “he went up a little while ago.”

“hm, ok,” you half-whisper, voice barely returning after your quick nap. you stand up and stretch, alerting everyone to your movements because you’re right in front of the tv. jungkook whines, and you side step out of the way. “m’goin to sleep too.”

“alright,” taehyung says, pushing the blanket out of your way so you don’t trip. “sleep tight!”

“don’t let the lovebugs bite!” jimin chirps out, making some of the boys giggle. you don’t register it as you walk to your room, just barely awake. 

for the second night in a row you’re surprised to see yoongi on the bed, still awake, but tonight he’s got his laptop and all of his producing equipment is laid out around him. he doesn’t acknowledge you entering the room and you don’t pay him any mind either, kneeling down to rifle through your bags at the foot of the bed. once you find what you’re looking for, you can’t decide if it’s the sleep or the whiskey, but you unabashedly take your sweater off right in front of yoongi. suddenly he’s jumping out of bed, equipment scattering.

“uh, what- why, what, what are you doing?!” he asks, voice an octave higher than usual as he looks anywhere but down at you. you laugh at how jumpy he is, and quietly apologize.

“sorry, i should’ve warned you,” you explain. “too tired to go to the bathroom.”

“tha-that’s fine,” he replies, still not looking at you. “tell me when you’re ready.”

“good,” you say once you’ve pulled on the shirt you slept in last night. “why’d you come up here so early?”

yoongi risks a glance at you, color coming back to his cheeks once he sees that you’re clothed again. he starts meticulously packing up the tech covering the bed, leaning over his laptop and furiously saving what he was working on before he closes it. 

“uh, i just didn’t like that movie,” he lies, not wanting to mention how jealous he was seeing you laughing with hoseok and then sharing a blanket with taehyung. he doesn’t have a right to be jealous, but he is. he wants to tell you how that made him feel, but he doesn’t. 

“ugh, me either,” you groan, rolling up one of the stray wires on the bed before passing it to yoongi. “not my favorite genre.”

yoongi notices that you’ve folded the wire the way he likes, without harming it too much and with the ends tucked in just so. the fact that you remember such a small detail has his heart warming again, and suddenly the gloomy thoughts he had about tonight have washed away. he all but forgets why he was in a bad mood in the first place as he looks at you, crawling under the blankets and he has the urge to stop you, to wake you up again so that he can play you what he was working on. but he can do that later, he will. he sees you glance up at him, patting the bed next to you.

“c’mon, i promise i won’t drool on you tonight,” you assure him, and he laughs before pulling the covers back on his side so he can lay down. he turns the lamp off on his bedside table and then settles in, suddenly missing the warmth of you from last night. 

“good night,” he mumbles, looking over at you on your phone, setting an alarm for tomorrow. the rental ends in the early afternoon, so there can be no sleeping in. 

“night yoongi,” you reply, locking your phone. you keep it on your chest for a moment, contemplating how tired you actually are. before you came in, you could’ve fallen asleep on the floor, but now, laying next to yoongi, you’re reminded of those lyrics and you don’t think your mind can turn off. after a few minutes of silence, you decide it’s probably best to just try to sleep, having your phone on might bother yoongi. you need to charge it anyway, but you groan as you remember you never packed your charger. 

“hm?” yoongi hums at your sound of frustration.

“do you have a phone charger plugged in over there?” you ask quietly. 

“mhm.”

“can i use it?”

“yep.”

“are you almost asleep?” you ask, even quieter now, moving over so you’re a little closer to him than before. 

“trying to be.”

“i’ll plug it in then,” you say, carefully reaching over him to grasp blindly until your fingers reach the cord. you fumble with it for a moment, successfully plugging your phone in eventually, and you start to retreat to your side of the bed. as you pass back over yoongi, you place a quick kiss on his cheek and mumble another good night, not even realizing what you’ve just done. 

there’s no way you can fall asleep now, and neither can he. there’s a beat of silence before he speaks up. 

“y/n.”

“what.”

“look at me.” 

slowly, you turn your head back to him, and his intense gaze has you blushing before he even says anything.

“sorry.”

“don’t apologize.”

“ok. right. sorry,” you quickly reply, voice still barely audible, but with the lack of space between you two it’s not hard for yoongi to hear. 

“y/n,” he says again, this time grabbing your hand beneath the blankets. 

“yeah?”

“i think i might be in love with you.”

“that’s....nice,” you squeak back, and yoongi lets out a loud laugh. your blush deepens at the sound.

“that’s nice?” he laughs. “that’s all you have to say?”

“yoongi?”

“yeah?”

“can i kiss you?” you ask, propping yourself up on an elbow. it’s dark in the room, but you clearly see him nod, and you don’t even remember moving to connect your lips to his. the moment you do, there’s a spark of electricity flowing through you. it’s a simple kiss, lips moving in sync with each other, both knowing what move the other is going to make before you even make it. yoongi pulls himself up so he can cage you underneath his arms, long fingers brushing your cheek and sending more sparks down your spine. he cups your face as he delicately tries deepening the kiss, your lips opening just slightly to let him in. he tastes like mint, and something else, something....citrus-y. even though you don’t want to, you pull away from his lips, his pout chasing you as you rest your head back on your pillows.

“what, what’s wrong?” he asks, fear slowly creeping in.

“when did you have time to eat a tangerine?”

“seriously? that’s the question you have for me right now?” he asks, laughing again but quieter this time. it still makes you smile at the sound.

“hm, i do have one question,” you say. it’s dark in the room but you can see yoongi encouraging you to go on with a lift of his eyebrow. your smile deepens as you speak. “how long have you been in love with me?”

“okay, good night,” he grumbles, turning over. you let out a sound of frustration and prop yourself up on an elbow, holding onto his shoulder with your other hand. 

“this ok?” you ask quietly, slowly melting into his side. he makes a sound of confirmation, and you pull him back towards you slightly. “i still don’t have an answer to my question.”

“when did i fall in love with you?” he asks for confirmation.

“ooh, you fell in love with me, how romantic,” you tease. “i asked how long it’s been, but i’d take either answer.”

“ok, yes, i did fall in love with you,” he begins. “you’re annoying so it took some time.”

“hey.”

“not done.”

“sorry.”

“and how long?” he continues. “mm, when i saw your name on the sign up sheet for the room with the brown piano, that’s when i knew for sure. so i guess a couple months.”

“hm. alright,”  you respond, butterflies suddenly in your stomach and fluttering up to your throat. “that’s.....nice.”

that sends you both into a fit of giggles right as jimin and taehyung are passing outside your door, and jimin pulls him toward the sound. but taehyung accidentally bumps his knee on the door, alerting you and yoongi to their unwanted presence. 

“go to bed!” yoongi shouts, making you jump while scaring the now snickering boys outside your door. yoongi lays an arm over your waist seeing you jerk at the sudden noise, and you feel a little bit of that comfort that he so perfectly put into words with his lyrics. 

“you too!” jimin shouts back, laughing all the way to his room.

“and you called me annoying,” you whisper to yoongi.

“you know they put you in here on purpose,” he tells you.

“huh?”

“they knew i was into you, so they made sure we were sharing a room,” he explains. 

“so you knew about it too?” 

“i-i knew we might share a room, i didn’t know we’d be sharing a bed,” he stumbles out. “once i saw there was one bed i assumed they gave you your own room. i’m...i’m glad i was wrong.”

“well min yoongi, i never expected this,” you tell him.

“pff, seriously?”

“seriously,” you confirm. “guess i was too busy with my own feelings for you to notice that you were into me.”

“really?” he asks with a smile. you nod, but realize he may not see it in the dark.

“yeah,” you whisper. 

“how long?” he whispers back.

“honestly? probably longer than i’d like to admit. you’re really cute, you know.”

“back at ya.”

“not done,” you scold.

“sorry.”

“but i finally accepted it when i...” you trail off, and then you decide it’s best to just tell him. “when i read the lyrics in your journal.”

you can feel him stiffen at your words, but he doesn’t move his arm from its place on your waist. 

“which song?”

“the one from today,” you reply. “wait, which song? there’s more than one?!”

“uh, good night!” he exclaims, trying to turn away again. you grab his arm and stop him though, placing your hand over his.

“min yoongi!”

“hey,” he mumbles.

“i hope i get to read the other ones at some point.”

“you will,” he assures you. there’s a beat of silence before he speaks again. “uh, so, you still haven’t used the l word, and that’s totally fine, i swear, but, did i cross a line? by using it already?”

“nah,” you shrug. “i’m just not good at this, so you’ll have to give me a little time. i’ll say it when i’m sure.”

“alright. take your time,” he says with a nod. it’s quiet again, and you think you’re both finally going to fall asleep when you feel yoongi’s lips on your cheek. “good night, for real. feel free to use me as your teddy bear again.”

“you sure?” you ask with a smile.

“i insist.”

- 

the next morning, you keep it chill, trying not to tip off the guys and let them know their little plan worked. but damn, how sneaky of them! you’ll have to thank them later though. for now, you’re helping them clean the house so you don’t get charged for leaving the rental a total mess. yoongi is in the living room clearing bottles from last night and you’re washing dishes with hoseok. yoongi keeps stealing glances at you, and you stick your tongue out at him whenever he catches your eye. once everything is clean, and the bags are in the car, you’re ready to head back to the city to enjoy the last bit of break. 

you’re the car dj again, next to yoongi in the backseat again, but this time you have a new playlist. epik high’s new album came out this morning, so you queue that up for your intimate little listening party in the car. everyone is in a good mood from the trip, so you’re talking over most of the songs in the beginning, just noting quickly when you like a lyric or a beat. yoongi scribbles things down when the inspiration strikes him, and your mind starts drifting back to your performance midterm. you’re starting to think you may be playing the wrong song, but the question is, what song will you play instead? 

as you get to the end of the album, and the end of your weekend, one song catches your attention. you check your phone, noting the title as you turn the volume up slightly. you listen extra hard to this song, trying to memorize the chord progressions as they come. you start composing the song in your mind, tapping out the melody on your lap as you decide: end of the world will be your performance song. you glance over at yoongi, still focused on his notebook, and you reach out to lightly tap his hand. he looks up at you, hair falling into his eyes, dewy cheeks shining and mouth slightly open, questioning your actions with a quiet “hm?”

“i’m sure now.”

#min yoongi #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi one shot #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi blurb #min yoongi headcannon #bts fic #min yoong fluff #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts one shot #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction

[thephantomessoftheopera]

Notes on Gaston Leroux‘s „The Phantom of the Opera“ - Chapter 8: “In Which Firmin Richard and Armand Moncharmin Dare to Have “Faust” Performed in a “Cursed” Opera House, and We See the Frightful Consequences”

<< Previous Chapter Quite a few elements from this chapter have found their way into ALW’s musical version of the story - the „far too many“ notes from “O.G.”, Carlotta the croaking toad and last but not least, the famous chandelier crash.

On Saturday morning, Moncharmin and Richard receive another of „O.G.‘s“ famous notes (“Are we at war, then?”), in which he sets forth an ultimatum - they will have a „cursed“ performance that night if they do not comply with the following conditions: 1. Box 5 must remain empty, 2. Christine Daaé must be given the leading role in „Faust“ instead of Carlotta, 3. Madame Giry must be reinstated, 4. They must agree to the payment of the monthly salary of 20,000 francs.

Considering the terms that Erik states, only one is dedicated to advancing Christine‘s career - the rest serve to reinstate the necessary infrastructure for his „haunting“: he needs access to Box 5 to be able to communicate with Madame Giry, he needs a trusted ally - and of course, money (to buy stuff for Christine, presumably). He also feels compelled to assert his power since the managers have decided to challenge him. He does not randomly create chaos or terrorize the Opera house just for the sake of it - everything he does serves a necessary purpose from his point of view. Considering the time (”several months”) that he has been haunting the Opera House, Erik likely started the whole opera ghost business only because he fell in love with Christine.

The Phantom‘s note has just prompted another angry outburst from Richard when the stable-head Lachenal enters and tells them that one of the opera’s horses - César, the horse that is habitually used in „Le Prophète“ - was stolen. The stablemen are suspected of the theft, but when Lachenal reports that he saw a black shadow vanishing on a white horse at great speed into the underground, everyone concludes that it must have been the „ghost“. Leroux’s sense of humour really shines through in the chapters dedicated to the managers and their dealings with the Opera Ghost. In this case, the managers seem to be completely unaware that the Opera House even has stables, let alone horses - showing that they are more or less amateurs at running it. And the Opera Ghost is apparently not afraid of making bold moves. But what does a ghost need a horse for? We will see later on that this act also serves a distinct purpose and goal.

Madame Giry comes in, as she has also received a note from the ghost telling her to call at the managers‘ office. Richard is about to explode with fury and literally throws her out of the office, refusing to comply with the ghost‘s demands. When she realizes what has happened, she throws quite a fit and has to be dragged out of the opera house. She is replaced by Richard’s own concierge, who will be in the audience at the opera for the first time during that night’s performance of “Faust”.

Carlotta also receives a note from the ghost in the morning post, warning her not to sing that night, or else a „misfortune worse than death“ will happen to her. She, seeing herself as the victim of some conspiracy, is also willing to defy him and ignore his threats. We also learn that it is actually her who has been slandering and bullying poor Christine in the meantime and using her friends to make sure she won’t be able to repeat her triumph from the gala night. Christine, on the other hand, has few friends apart from Philippe de Chagny - who has been lobbying in her favour simply to please his brother, Raoul - and the opera ghost, of course. Carlotta calls upon all her numerous friends and acquaintances to support her performance that night, telling them that Christine Daaé is conspiring against her. Erik sends her a final warning in the evening post, but she still won‘t be deterred, having secured everyone‘s support previously.

This chapter also gives us a short background on Carlotta, the Spanish diva. She is described as having a perfect voice fit for a wide repertoire, but neither heart nor soul. She is a selfish, wicked and scheming bully, ready to defend her hard-won position as the reigning diva at all costs. She comes from a lowly background, having danced in „disreputable taverns“ in Barcelona, and later in dingy music halls in Paris, working her way up by way of her many lovers.

As no one heeds the ghost‘s threats, that night‘s performance goes ahead as planned. Carlotta sings the role of Marguerite opposite Carolus Fonta in the role of Faust. Christine sings her customary role of Siebel, the young man who is also in love with Marguerite. Despite Siebel being a male character, the role is written for a soprano voice and therefore habitually sung by a woman. ALW turned this into the “page-boy” in “Il Muto”, with the addition of the page-boy being silent, while Siebel is not, although he gets very little stage time.

The first and second act pass without incidents. During the interval, the managers leave the box to find out more about Christine‘s supposed conspiracy. When they return, a tin of boiled sweets and a pair of opera glasses have been mysteriously left there, and they also feel a kind of draught around them.

During the third act, Christine is singing Siebel’s flower aria (“Faites-lui mes aveux” - watch it here) when she notices Raoul in the audience and starts to falter, her voice becoming less clear and confident. Raoul, in turn, is also crying, which greatly embarrasses Philippe and also turns him against Christine because he doesn’t know what kind of games she is playing with his brother. At this point, Christine thinks that there is no future for Raoul and her for various reasons, and she also fears for his safety. Philippe was worried about Raoul‘s precarious state of health following his trip to Perros, and had even asked Christine to meet him, but she had been bold enough to refuse. Christine had also sent Raoul a letter, asking him never to come to her dressing-room again for the sake of both their lives. Supposedly, at this point she still believes the „Voice“ is the Angel of Music, so it is not quite clear in what way she feels their lives are in danger from him.

During the duet between Faust and Marguerite in Act 3, Erik uses his amazing ventriloquist skills to make Carlotta croak like a toad, and the entire audience reacts with horror and dismay to the hellish sounds coming from her mouth. Carlotta cannot believe what is happening at first, and her partner Carolus Fonta is equally confused. Erik‘s idea of a „misfortune worse than death“ is pretty accurate considering Carlotta‘s reaction, but from the point of view of the reader, it is also quite funny especially since we are not meant to empathize with the petty, mean diva too much.

In Box 5, Moncharmin and Richard experience the distinct sensation of the ghost standing right beside them. Leroux later insinuates that Erik is now hiding in the hollow marble pillar beside Box 5. Carlotta resumes her song, but the toad croaks again, and all hell breaks loose in the audience. The managers hear the ghost chuckling, and his bodiless voice says: „Her singing tonight is enough to bring down the chandelier!“ when the chandelier starts slipping downwards and crashes into the audience, causing one death, many injuries and a general panic. The woman who was killed was the concierge brought in to replace Madame Giry, leading to her reinstatement.

The chandelier at the Garnier never really crashed, but there was an actual accident with the Chandelier’s counterweight which happened in 1896 and resulted in a single fatality. Other indications of dates given in the novel suggest though that Leroux does not adhere to this “official” timeline, although it would probably be the most exact indicator of when the story actually happened if it was true. The headline that Leroux quotes - „Two hundred thousand kilos hit concierge“ - is actually based on a real newspaper headline:

Image from @fdelopera​

Within the context of the story, we assume that Erik actively caused the chandelier to fall - which he will later deny when speaking to the Persian. The problem with this assumption is that the chandelier accident actually happened in real life - so unless you assume that Erik is real, too, it is clear that such an accident can indeed happen without someone intentionally making it fall. As such, the case remains finally inconclusive, like many other parts of the novel, and is left for the reader to interpret.

Image from the opening night of the Palais Garnier in 1875 from artlyrique.fr

Next chapter >>

#phantom of the opera #lerouxreadingguide #leroux phantom #gaston leroux #leroux #the phantom of the opera #erik the phantom #erik x christine #opera ghost #chandelier #palais garnier #opera garnier #poto

[askroahmmythril]

Thoughts on RM Weapons (6)

Ah, the sixth set...  I’m going to be honest, MM6′s weapon selection is probably overall my least favorite set in the series.  Not necessarily TERRIBLE, just... they don’t really stand out to me as much as other weapons?  It doesn’t help that they all just make default Mega Buster shot sounds.

1) Flame Blast (Flame Man) - A decent enough weapon overall, though the range and trajectory does leave a little to be desired.  A flame is thrown forward, and upon hitting a surface, it emits a small tower of fire.  Interestingly it can erupt from walls as well, making a horizontal pillar of fire.  One thing this weapon has going for it is a lot of ammo, only taking one unit of energy per use.  It also melts ice walls, though curiously, there are some bits of terrain you’d think it could affect, but it doesn’t.  Large blocks of ice can’t be damaged by it, and more thankfully, it cannot ignite oil pits.  Flame Blast is Blizzard Man’s weakness, though you have to hit him while he’s standing or just slowly skiing about.  If he’s rolling in snowball form, he’s immune to it.  A pity as it would have made setting up flame walls for him to roll through seem pretty fitting.

2) Blizzard Attack (Blizzard Man) - Again, fairly decent, I admit my reason for not liking this one as much is... kind of petty, haha.  I just thought the snowflake sprites for it looked kind of boring, but then, it’s 8 bit so maybe that’s as good as they could get them for their size.  Really thinking about it, it’s not a bad weapon, firing a spread of four snowflakes forward, two in a straight line, one diagonally up, one diagonally down.  It thus has good spread, and even tricks you can do with it : the snowflakes spawn behind Mega Man, meaning in certain situations he can hit enemies behind him with it.  Blizzard Attack is Plant Man’s weakness, though he’s one of those “if you need a weakness” type bosses generally.  Still since he’s the shield user, it at least makes the fight go a bit faster.  Sadly though it won’t actually PENETRATE Plant Barrier.

3) Knight Crush (Knight Man) - Probably my overall favorite from this set, it’s one of those beefy heavy-hitter type weapons, satisfying to hit with, and it only uses one energy per shot.  It fires a hefty spiked ball and chain forward, though there is no visible chain.  It’s still tethered in a way though as after it flies out a short distance, it loops back around to Mega Man. The weapon can be aimed as well, either straight to each side or diagonally up or down.  No straight up or down however.   Interestingly, if you can loop it around so it goes behind a shielded enemy on the return trip, such as Tatebo or Shield Attackers, it can destroy them by hitting their unprotected side.  Knight Crush serves as a fairly straightforward weakness against Centaur Man, nothing particularly tricky in using it against him.  Oddly despite the fact that it seems like there should be a tethering chain involved, you can fire two Knight Crushes at the same time... just picture the embarrassment of Mega Man getting them tangled together.

4) Centaur Flash (Centaur Man) - Behold!  The most boring screen clear weapon in the series!  All it does is flash the screen white, doing damage to all enemies on screen.  Nothing fancy about it, not particularly stylish, that’s... really all there is to it.  I mean, at least most screen clear weapons are at least fun to watch or have a fun gimmick to them... this is just... super boring...  It’s Wind Man’s weakness, and it’s a screen clear, so not much in the way of strategy in using it, though he’s also the ONLY boss in the game to take ANY damage from it...  For supposedly being a weapon that causes a dimensional distortion, it... sure doesn’t live up to how awesome that sounds.

5) Silver Tomahawk (Tomahawk Man) - Another that’s at least decent, this one fires a spinning blade in a forward arc, going down slightly and then rising up through the air.  The trajectory can be situational but in general has a pretty useful range.  Most notably, it’s great for use against Power Piston since it likes to stay high up on the wall it stomps up and down across.  As far as Robot Masters, it’s good against Yamato Man.  Given the high jumps he can do, Silver Tomahawk’s upward trajectory works nicely against him.

6) Wind Storm (Wind Man) - A rather odd one, Wind Man doesn’t even really seem like he USES this weapon when you fight him.  The best way I can describe it is... Bubble Lead + Gravity Hold....?  You fire a small tornado that travels along the ground, and if it defeats an enemy, it carries them off into the air, never to be seen again.  Well unless you walk off screen and respawn them of course.  It thus also has Gravity Hold’s issue that enemies defeated by it don’t go boom and thus don’t drop anything.  It works as Flame Man’s weakness, and here’s where it actually does shine.  Normally, the flame pillars created by Flame Man’s Flame Blast will block your shots, but Wind Storm is not affected by them.  So at the very least, it does have that going for it.

7) Yamato Spear (Yamato Man) - A fairly simple weapon, it fires swiftly moving spearheads straight forward.  Tapping the fire button rapidly, you can also tell that they fire at two different heights, though I’m not sure if there are any cases where this really matters too much?  I’m not sure if there are situations where it has a notable effect like how Proto Man in Mega Man 10 has a slightly lower shot height that can hit some enemies Mega Man’s shots can’t.  Anyway, in some ways, it seems similar to Needle Cannon, though I don’t think it has the same “hold fire to constantly shoot” ability.  What it DOES have, however, is piercing capability, as it can ignore the shields of Shield Attackers and, notably, Knight Man, who is actually weak to this weapon.  Quite fitting, thus.

8) Plant Barrier (Plant Man) - It’s shield time again!  And oh man this one is.... sure there.  Plant Barrier surrounds Mega Man with swirling petals.  It disappears on contact with any enemy or shot type, and cannot be thrown.  This means, if you want to do damage with it?  You’re getting in super close.  It’s Tomahawk Man’s weakness, and he has plenty of ranged attacks to throw at you, so make sure you use this in between his attacks so as not to waste it.  Interestingly, Plant Barrier does ignore shielding from enemies, for example, it can take out Shield Attackers easily.

[radramblog]

Rating the letters of the alphabet

I feel like part of my style of comedy is just rambling about shit and making loose connections between things as part of an overall bit. I think. I’m no expert on myself, unfortunately.

The inspiration for the following absolute load of shite is trying to search Tiermaker for nothing. Like, no characters in the search bar. Didn’t come up with anything. Did a search for just a space. No dice. What about just a? Surely that’ll bring up everything with an A in the title. But it didn’t, and I was somewhat disappointed.

Then my head started writing bits about letters and that’s how we got here. This is probably really stupid, but maybe it’ll at least be fun. Wordplay is cool, though maybe not my strong suit? Anyway.

A: A is one of the two letters that’s also just a word, as you’ve just seen, giving it a necessary promotion in rank. Not a lot of things get to double up like that, though with the “an” ligature maybe it’s actually a double or nothing. But because of the confusing common connection crossing contexts for the character, it gets somewhat awkward to talk about the letter in conversation. An A, in my opinion, A does not get. 4/5.

B: B is also just a word letter but unlike A when you write it out you have to stick a few extra letters on to make it work, making it not as good. But B’s association with bees isn’t enough, because in the year of our lord, like, 2019 or something, it would become inextrixably linked with shite memes as the B emoji became king. And I just don’t respect that. It’s otherwise a fine letter, dragged down by its company. 2/5.

C: Oh come on now, the word doesn’t even have a C in it anymore! You can sea the see without any of our tertiary letter’s involvement whatsoever. Not to mention how its two main sounds are just copies from other letters wholesale. C must be confusing to non-english speakers, I’d imagine. C as a grade gets what C as a grade typically entails for many a schoolchild. 3/5.

D: It would be remiss of me not to give a sterling grade to the D. Why, none of us would be here without it. While many a youth may find the D to be quite a humourous subject, I assure you I’m taking it with the gravest of sincerity when I say the D has got to be one of the best letters of all.

And by D I mean deity, of course. Wait, what did you think I meant? 5/5.

E: The absolute absurdity that is the E meme elevates E efficiently enough to excel beyond many another vowel. However, it is also the single most common letter in the English language, going so far as to open the damn name. It’s to the point where someone made a point of writing an entire book without using it, and I think Gadsby is cool but mayhaps avoiding fifth uncial was a bit showy. I can’t help but mark it down for the sake of hipster cred. 3/5.

F: F is for Fuck. I like the word Fuck. F is for paying respects. I think the military-industrial complex has poisoned our cultural landscape to the point that a reference to one of its most prized productions’ awkward moments has become one of the most colloquially used meme letters in existence, And That’s Terrible. 3/5, I’m conflicted.

G: Man literally who the fuck cares about G. What is it even good for. Just an absolute waste of a letter, total shithouse. It’s NATO equivalent is Golf, the Worst Sport, too. Who asked for any of this? Just use a J instead, it’s cooler. 1/5.

H: I’ve seen “Hhh” used enough times in written forms of pornography to not consider it a Horny Letter. That and it, being short for Hentai, is often used to denote adult material in Japan. Basically what im saying is, I think this gets worse the less sex-positive you are. 6/9.

I: I think I’ve said enough about letter words already, but I is another high-tier one because like A I is just it’s own thing. It can also, however, be a bit confusing, looking just like an l a lot of the time, and having to constantly capitalise it is a pain in the ass. I also don’t have a particularly high opinion of myself, so a high opinion of I seems disingenuous. 3/5.

J: Clearly the best letter, hands down. I’m definitely not biased. There are so few letters as underappreciated by J- a fact many a person who’s had to do that “assign yourself an alliterative adjective” icebreaker game has had to reckon with. Because it appears to be a lot more popular with names than with words, and that just kind of sucks. 6/5.

K: K has in some circles managed to bump off its partner to become yet another letter word, though in a very informal abbreviated sense. However, when you’re looking into scientific fields, eventually said partner returns, having lost some weight on the trip down to absolute zero. This all makes complete sense in my head, and I’m sure is a lot less funny to anyone who doesn’t live there. 4/5.

L: I’d argue that L doesn’t cop its namesake. It’s a really useful letter, loads of words use it, especially in pairs, and my ADHD-brain thought it was fun to just say LLLLLLLLLLL for a bit while I was thinking about this so I guess that’s staying in now. Put me down as an L Lobbyist. 4/5.

M: Mmmmmm. M&Ms. But also it’s kind of a pain to write. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. 3/5.

N: I’d like to fight whoever decided we should have two letters that sound so similar right bloody next to each other in the alphabet. Actually, who the fuck even decided the alphabet’s order to begin with? Maybe it should go M to N, that’ll bloody show you. 2/5.

O: Our fourth vowel, and perhaps one of the underappreciated ones. O is similarly a letter word, but a much more common one considering its use as an interjection. It’s also one half of a very powerful letter combo, as we’ll see. 4/5.

P: There’s the other half. Many a joke involves OP as a phrase, whether it mean overpowered or original poster, and the letters’ adjacency is a lovely bit of serendipity. Whenever I say P out loud, on its own, I have to resist the urge to do some incredibly shitty beatboxing, which may or may not be a good sign. 4/5.

Q: I was going to write some very harsh words about Q, and its dependency on U, but then I realised that that is probably hate speech against the disabled. It still sucks, though. 0/5.

R: R is the one I am most struggling to think of things to say about. R is another letter that’s just kinda there. I’m sure the Roberts and Rachels of the world would disagree with me, though. It’s also the name of a program that I know has traumatised a lot of young biologist wannabes, slapping us with a whole pile of maths and statistics when we just wanted to look at cool plants and shit. Or in my case, cool cells and shit. 2/5.

S: The most overrated consonant, but also the thing that makes plurals not a pain in the ass. However I’m going to lean towards giving S a positive rating, if only because it’s associated with snakesssss (and serpentine characters who can talk) and I like those. 3/5.

T: I don’t think T gets enough credit as one of the pillars of the English language. A lot of very common words feature it, and yet it feels like it never gets the same level of credit as big shots like S or half of the vowels. T is like the character actor of the alphabet, is basically what I’m saying. 4/5.

U: Ah, the letter Americans hate for some reason. I think this is actually commentary on the history of American politics. Because throughout history, America has been extremely selfish and self-centered, while attempting to present a positive image that people are finally seeing past. They only entered WWI and WWII when it was convenient for them, they started wars and initiated coups in even their allies for petty ideological reasons, and they’ve gone to war with several countries and funded wars with several others seeming just for shits and giggles. Because apparently if you’re not an American, then you’re not one of them, and that means they hate U. 4/5.

V: I actually think V is underrated. It’s a fun sound. That’s it, no joke here. It’s neat, I like it. 4/5.

W: This may come as a shock to you, but double-u over here is actually two Vs! unless you’re writing in cursive, but fuck cursive. The French actually have it right on this one, naming it double-v (pronounced doobleh-vay). Add in the fact that it’s literally just M upside down, and you’ve got a pretty shite letter. 1/5.

X: There’s a reason literally every “A is for Apple” thing you see made for kids uses Xylophone for X, and that’s because there are no commonly used words that start with it. Seriously, it’s all just scientific terms- I’d argue X-Ray is more common than Xylophone in common parlance, but also, who wants to explain imaging to a kid. It doesn’t even get a second page of words on Dictionary.com. X also has implications as a letter word, that I’d rather avoid at the moment. 2/5.

Y: Ah, Ygreck, everyone’s favourite “what the fuck, France?” moment. Between that and being sorta kinda not really a vowel, Y prompts its own question more often than I’d care to admit. 2/5.

Z: As a (technical) member of the generation associated with this letter- on the one hand, I’m sorry, on the other, y’all have it coming. The final letter of the alphabet, one of the other ones worth 10 in scrabble (and yet X isn’t???), and one we probably got pretty sick of in the early 00s when it was everywhere- ironically, when most of the generation was getting born. 2/5.

And that’s the lot of them. I hope this didn’t alienate any non-English speakers too hard. It’s probably fine.

Join me for more bullshit next time I have another stupid idea. I mean, tomorrow.

#ramble #nonce shit tbh #remember when I made good content? yeah me neither

[tellywoodtrash]

immj2 16.11.20 lb

chanchal interrogating ishani, ki did riddhima spill about what happened that day. ishani like no dice, but imma beat it outta her so help me goddddd.

aryan coming throwing shit around. coz vansh has left everything in his will to dadi. thank fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkk. none of you snakes are worth 5000 cr. i mean, ishani is, but idk, maybe not that whole amount at once.

ishani is like THANK THE LORD, VANSH HAD AT LEAST ONE WORKING BRAIN CELL. “kahin uss riddhima ko nominee banaa dete, toh humaare sar par chadhke tandav karti woh.” snort.

chanchal telling aryan ki “vansh ke baad saara business toh tuney hi sambhaalna haina”, and lmaoooooooooooooooooooooooo ishani’s face:

i honestly love her the most. MAKE HER THE NEW KING OF THIS EMPIREEEEEEEEEEE. SHE DESERVESSSSSSS IT.

ishani saunters off and chanchal is telling aryan ki anyway dadi ke haath laga hai sab, she’ll write it all to you; coz siya is in a coma, who knows when the fuck she’ll wake up, and ishani is walking talking TNT ka khaaaaan, that’ll blow up any second now. tujhe hi sab milna hai. lol bohut hi zyaada khushfehmi. can’t waitttttt for vihaan (whether he turns out to be vansh or not.......) to come show them thenga.

some parcel came outta nowhere for mummyji and it’s filled with all the stuff of her “long lost son who got kidnapped”. veryyyyyyyy conveniently opened by riddhima.

mummy has started filmfare nom-worthy performance on discovering the relics.

there’s a letter too! basically says i kidnapped your kid for money, but when you didn’t pay up, i threw him in a river. i’m confessing all this coz i’m now dying of cancer and want redemption. sounds to me like someone watched both ‘the prince of egypt’ and ‘badlapur’ in one day and did a mashup of those stories to write this letter.

watch out meryl, viola, jodie.......... mummy has gone beyond filmfare and is now doing OSCAR worthy performance about how she keeps losing kids.

lmao i am aryan, watching this nautanki:

mummy like it’s all coz i neverrrrrrrrrrrr accepted riddhima as a motherrrrrrrrrrr, mujhe maaaf kar dooooo.

of course riddhima’s dumb ass forgave her. god, this chick just tooo easy to scam.

someone’s come to say “final goodbye”. coz he’s taken a transfer. sure.

lmao riddhima is the biggest mood when dealing with an ex who just won’t leave you the fuck alone.

is it just me or has his hair become more........... vansh-y??? like, height-wise.

blah blah he wants to apologize to everyone........... for what exactly? he said he was just doing his job, why to say sorry for that??

lmao ishani has appeared and is ready to kick kabir’s ass. omfg i think this might be my new fav dynamic of this show, ishani v/s kabirrrrrrrrrrr.

RIDDHIMA DOING NOTHING TO STOP HER ALSO, LMAOOOOOO

whole family has appeared and he’s like sorry kehne aaya tha and all and THENNNNNNNNNNN....... NAZAR PADI ON THE TABLE FULL OF ARTIFACTS.

 anupriya like don’t touch my son’s shit and........

“yeh sab mere hain!!!!!!!!!”

hahahahahahahhahahahaha ishani is truly my absolute favourite character of this show from now on.

“maaaaaaaaaaaa?????? iska matlab aap meri maa hain??????” lol bohut hi bhadddda actingggg.

riddhima agrees with ishani.

kabir narrates exact story mummy did like 5 min back.

he’s giving proof ki i know the collar of this uniform has a K behind it and everyone’s shockedddddddddd ki oh god yet another middle class orphan is gonna make their way here

wow the terrible acting from mummy and beta is just.......... peak today. i can’t take it.

my question is, kabir has come to this house and seen anupriya a million times before, it never clicked for him then????? anupriya looks to be baaaarely in her 40s, she wouldn’t have looked much different when she was younger. why didn’t he recognize her then. SOMEONE USE YOUR BRAIN AND ASK HIM THAT. ISHANI, ARYAN, SOMEONE?!!!?!?!

ok ishani didn’t ask that but she’s like that kid was thrown into a river, i’m pretty sure he’s dead. and kabir doing extra naatak ki yes, i was thrown into the river but a policewaala saved me and raised me and that’s why i’m police now.

ugh itnaaa sasta acting lol.

high time this pinky and the brain team up and take the rest of these fuckers downnnnnnnn.

lmao riddhima is soooooooooooooo angry rn. she didn’t even get this mad when her fucking husband paralysed her. that’s just how much petty hatred male exes deserve. the fact that that their bitch ass is even alive and wasting oxygen on the damn planet is fucking unacceptable.

OMFG MUMMY BETA ARE LEGIT WHISPERING INTO EACH OTHER’S EARS WHILE HUGGING, GIVING SHABAASHI ABOUT THIS BRILLIANT PLAN. IN FRONT OF EVERYONE. SERIOUSLY, YOU COULDN’T WAIT TILL YOU WERE ALONE???????????????????/

“kamaaaaal ki acting, KAMAAAAL KI ACTING!” lmaoooooooooooo honestly, this show would be fucking unwatchable if not for vishal cheesing it up in every other scene and making it so damn hilarious. kabir played by anyone else would never be this likable. his dialogue delivery of these lines is just A+

lmao he’s hamming some more about how he’s been searching for his mom allllll his life and today he’s leaving the city and finally found her.

LITERALLY EVERYONE ELSE AROUND THEM HAS A FACE LIKE SOMETHING WITH 8+ LEGS CRAWLED ACROSS THEIR DINNER PLATE. IT’S SO HILARIOUSSSSSSSS.

he’s like mom, come with me, and she’s like “tum yehi ruk jao!” and omfggggggg the reactionsssssssssssss:

“ab yeh bhi yaheen rahega?????” alkjdsalkjdlaskjdlaskj chanchal’s no filter ways really come in handy sometimes.

kabir’s like no no mom will come with me. starts leading her out and dadi is like no anupriya is a part of this family and will not leave. and if you can live here in this house................... riddhima will decide that. lmao this should work out well.

kabir trying to jedi mind trick her.

even ishani is pleading in her mind, please riddhima no kehnaaaaa. aaaaaand....

“haan.” great.

big mood.

lmao booooooo, the amount of shit you get away with just coz you’re so stinkin’ cute. you’re exactly like my asshole cat son. just worming your way into my heart by the power of your adorable faces, you absolute bastardssssssss.

oh of course. she had this conversation with vansh, about if mummy ever found her son, he’d like to welcome him into this family as his brother. sentiment mein aakar haan keh diya. BITCH HE DIDN’T KNOW THAT IT WAS GONNA TURN OUT TO BE YOUR EX WHO WAS HAATH DHOKE BEHIND HIS GODDAMN LIFE. IF HE DID, HE WOULDN’T HAVE THOUGHT TWICE BEFORE PULLING THAT UGLYASS GOLDEN GUN ON HIM AND SHOOTING HIM BETWEEN THE EYES.

this is a sweet scene and all but dude how the fuck am i supposed to overlook the fucking ugly beetlejuice suit. if i never have to see this godforsaken garment ever again, it’d still be too soon.

also jesus, were you a goddamn kid just 10 years ago, COZ HOW ELSE THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE A MINION WATERBOTTLE FROM YOUR CHILDHOOD?!!?!?!?!! OH GOD YOU GUYS, IS VANSH JUST 19 YEARS OLD OR SOME SHIT, AND THE BEARD AND THE VOICE THREW US OFF INTO THINKING HE’S 30?!?!?!?!?!!?! OH MY GOD, I FEEL LIKE A PEDO NOW. 28 IS MY LIMIT ON HOW YOUNG I’LL GO FOR WHEN I LUST AFTER SOMEONE.

anyway i’m fwding this scene so that my mind won’t dwell on these horrible possibilities. and that horrible fucking outfit.

lmao riddhima is like kaash tum yahaan hote, tum bhi yehi karte. snort, okaaaay sis.

“tumhari riddhima hoon main. aur hamesha wohi karoongi, jo agar tum hote toh karte.” ok everybody start monitoring your drinks from now on. pata nahi kab kya mila de yeh madam vansh 2.0.

ishani is, how you say................ LOSING IT.

ahahahahahahahahahaha aryan, who's going to town on the punching bag, is like i already picture him here, hence the vigorous mid-day cardio.

“mera toh mann kar raha hai ki main 2-4 jamaa ke aaoon. kabir ko nahi, uss riddhima ko!!!!!!!!” The Biggest Mood, Ever.

“pehle woh bhai ki tarah sochna toh seekh le?!?!?!?” bhai ki tarah chodo, pehle BAS SOCHNA HI SEEKH LE, WOHI BOHUT HAI.

ishani like i’m sureeeeeeeee kabir found out the story about mom’s missing son and now that vansh isn’t here, wormed his way into the house. PRESENTING TO YOU, THE ONLY ONE WITH A BRAIN IN THIS HOUSEEEEEEEEEEE. THE FACT THAT VANSH SLEPT ON HER AS A FUCKING PILLAR TO THIS HOUSE IS FUCKING RUDE.

“yeh sab kuch hua hai uss stuuuuupid riddhima ki wajah se!” that’s what they should call the show.

ew kabir is in riddhima’s room and getting all touchy and LIKE BACK THE FUCK OFF MAN. SERIOUSLY, YOU GOT WHAT YOU WANTED, NOW GO HANG OUT WITH YOUR MOM ALL DAY LONG, INSTEAD OF ACTING SKEEZY.

yeah riddhima pretty much told him that. threw in some more shit about how she’ll hate him till she dies, coz he’s the reason vansh died.

he doesn’t look happy about that. this fucker still wants herrrrrrr. ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. kabir yaaaaaaaaaaaaar, you can do so much bettterrrrrrrrrrr. get yourself an hot evil shawty with 4+ brain cells dude!

she’s dragging him out. nice.

kabir still talking and she’s like do i literally have to kick your ass out?????? damn girl, there’s the spine i like to see.

askljdaslkjslkdjlaskdjlaskdj he’s like main bhi vansh jaisa hoon, iss ghar ka beta hoon. lmao good you said this in front of riddhima and not ishani, warna ***** phaad ke tumhare haath mein de deti.

riddhima also handing it to him, but verbally. but it’s lameass shit like no you’ll never be like vansh, not in 7 janam. like, ok i get she’s really mad at him for what happened, but i don’t get what’s this sudden hatred of his personality?????? she doesn’t know the whole truth and abhi se itni nafrat??? based on what????? 

lmao he muttered “woh toh waqt hi batayega” as he was leaving and she’s like BITCH WHAT YOU SAY?!?!?!?!?!?!

hee hee hee hee. i loveeeeeee when he makes his exasperated faces.

some more sweet talk about how she’ll see his intentions aren’t bad at all, and she’s like justttttttttt gtfo my room man.

"kahin kabir ko yahaan rehne ki permission dekar kuch galat toh nahi kar diya???” LMAO YA THINK?????????????????????/

haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaye. finally. aankhein taras gayi thi.

bro refusing more shady work coz “abhi mere paas chote-mote kaamon ke liye time nahi hai. kuch bada plan kar raha hoon.”

mmmmmmmmmmmm baby what that mouth do??????

“vansh ki body ka toh main antim-sanskaar main kar chuka hoon.” ohohohohohohohoho symbolism samajhhh rahe ho aap loggggg???? new identity, who disssssssss waala scene hai.

“riddhima vansh rai singhania, main aa rahaa hoon.”

oh aaja, aha aaja, aha aaajaa, ah ah aaaaja, ah aa aaaja, aha ha aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah

#ishq mein marjawan 2 #immj2 #immj2 lbs #episode liveblogs

[iaintyourbro]

Your first ask is me? I feel bad now your first ask is about a biased CA... :( I always see you out there writing great ideas and opinions on things! You deserve more asks! About my ask I know other people picked their favorite and all, but that's all they did. A VA is like saying all these things about A fixing C and shit and that's not it. That's not the story. That's not the game. She's putting wrong ideas in the fans/shippers heads while working for SE. I just find that a little pathetic. +

2/2  + but I won't e-mail anyone. That was just me being petty. And kind of joking too. (Sorry for my English)

Oh, please, don’t feel bad at all! I think it’s a great starting question to get me thinking. Also, your English is FANTASTIC. I assumed you were a native speaker! 

I 100% agree with you on how she’s saying the wrong things. I didn’t even know she was going that far. Like I said, I really can’t tolerate watching her because it’s so extreme to one side. 

Based on that, it sounds like she really didn’t play through the OG. It’s clear that Aerith doesn’t do anything to “fix” Cloud. Her job and her role is for the overall plot of FF7. She’s a very important character in that regard. Without her, the world is screwed (well, without her in the Lifestream but). Tifa legit is the only one that can help fix Cloud later on - by guiding him and letting him come to terms with everything on his own.

Did Aerith make Cloud a bit more open? Yes, absolutely. Every character that Cloud deals with develops him further, and I love that. It’s not just Tifa or Aerith. Barret. All of AVALANCHE gives him development. Marle gives him development. The Trio, Jules, all of them. It’s wholesome as hell that he really does listen and refers to things he’s learned later in the game. Watching him go from “Not interested” to being super worried about Wedge when he falls from the pillar is GOOD CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. 

I think Aerith teaches him some social skills - like high-fives. It’s silly, but Cloud was afraid to high-five. His persona won’t let him do anything that’s gonna make him possibly get rejected or hurt. It’s silly, but our boy is pretty messed up at this point. 

She also teaches him sympathy. When she’s talking about Zack in the park she’s just SAD. I felt for her. I was really glad they did so much Zack/Zerith referencing in the remake. This isn’t to say he didn’t show any sympathy or concern before - he did notice a lot if Tifa seemed nervous or upset. This was more obvious, though, because he was pretty closed off from Aerith until she talked about Zack. 

Cloud softens up when he realizes she’s sad about this unknown person who he isn’t allowed to know the name of, which to me is a huge improvement with how he dealt with things like that before. @silver-wield Did a full interpretation of the park scene that covers this in more detail. She also has one on the high-fives.

Him learning to listen to people instead of blowing them off, him remembering the lessons Tifa taught him at surviving life on the ground floor, (he asks her in Chapter 10 if following the stench is another lesson... as he’s smiling btw). 

What actually will piss me off is people saying he was a stoic, closed off jerk until Chapter 8. It’s just not true. He grew a LOT from his first line to his last one in Chapter 7. Before Aerith. Then he continues to grow. Shipping who you want is fine until you start deleting parts of the actual story. 

If the story didn’t go in the Cloti direction, I guarantee you I probably would have gone with whatever the final pairing was. I generally do. Squall and Rinoa, Yuna and Tidus, Celes and Locke, Rosa and Cecil. You know, the linear relationships. 

The exception for me was Lucrecia and Vincent... cuz I just was so grossed out that she picked Hojo. DoC cleared up some of it, but still. I had head canon that Vincent was Sephiroth’s father yada yada. When I found out it’s canon that Hojo is - that there’s legit NO POSSIBILITY of Vincent being his father, I accepted it. I didn’t go online and start twisting the story and attacking people. It didn’t take away from my fan fiction enjoyment at all.

I assume it’s like people who ship Squall and Quistis, for example. Nothing in the game indicates this (he rejects her hard - “Then go talk to a wall”), but people do. That’s okay, I don’t enjoy that pairing (hot for teacher, anyone?), but I know people do. The differences with that pairing and C//erith is NOBODY GOES ONLINE AND FIGHTS THE FF8 STORY TO PUSH THAT SHIP. They don’t sit here and rip the story up, ignore parts, don’t play past certain parts/skip chapters/quests whatever. Then they start quoting things that were debunked long ago. 

I am absolutely fine with shipping who you want. You just can’t change the actual story to fit it and then argue with facts. That’s what makes this brutal. I also don’t care if the VAs ship whoever. They just can’t put false ideas into the heads of fans. It either creates false hope for one side or anxiety for the other. It doesn’t end well, especially since people expect that she may know more than we do. They’ll take those comments to heart much more than a random person on the internet...

Also: I would not judge or look down on you for emailing Square, cuz I think it’s the funny kind of petty! I’d be that petty too, but probably never actually send it!

#cloti #cloud x tifa #cloud strife #ff7r #ff7 remake #ff7r spoilers #final fantasy 7 remake #final fantasy vii remake #tifa lockhart #ff7 character development #some ff8 #i can be petty #shipping wars #ltd #zerith

[flightfoot]

Divergent Points: ML Salt -Chapter 8

AO3/FFN

----------

Alya leaned against her boyfriend, just resting for a moment. A few meters away Marinette sat with Adrien’s head in her lap, stroking his hair as he purred like a motorboat.

She smiled. They both could use comfort after the nightmarish world they just came from.

That world’s Ladybug…. 

She shuddered.

Adrien’s situation had been pretty bad. Hearing all those people say those things about a version of him, seeing someone with the face of the person he cared most for try to hurt him as much as she could…

If they’d each been by themselves, if they’d thought that the worlds they’d gone to had been real, that the people had been genuine, that they actually thought those things…?

Between Adrien’s self-worth issues from his father’s treatment of him and Marinette’s anxiety, her fear of letting people down? 

It was a very, VERY good thing neither of them were going through this alone.

Not that she’d be doing too well by herself either. She didn’t have the same sort of issues as Adrien or Marinette, but this place could mess anyone up – Nino’d probably have some issues as well.

Come to think of it, what was up with Nino’s world? It was still really strange how he’d been the only one able to actually move around, who no one’d started out being hostile to. That world’s ‘Marinette’ had even tried to recruit him to her cause!

But all the worlds differed somewhat. 

In hers, ‘Marinette’ was a hapless victim of that… that THING that’d taken over her body, and the bodies of Adrien and Marinette in their own worlds.

Though… maybe it wasn’t so different?

Adrien’d mentioned the ‘Ladybug’ in his nightmare world saying that he’d refused to stand up while one of his friends was beaten and her property was destroyed. Assuming Ladybug had been talking about herself, about ‘Marinette’, that’d fit almost perfectly with her own nightmare.

And even Nino’s nightmare… it didn’t seem to be as extreme – not from what he thought of it – but it seemed to follow the same basic idea, the idea of everyone around Marinette shunning her, even bullying her, believing Lila – and then her taking revenge.

The world they just came from was different – Lila wasn’t involved, and Marinette wasn’t being bullied, but… it still had some similarities; mostly in Ladybug striking back for perceived slights, barely even seeming to consider the person she was taking revenge on to be, well – a person, and just seeming intent on causing the person she hated to suffer as much as possible.

What would the next world bring?

“You okay?”

Sighing, she looked over at her boyfriend. “Just trying to figure out what the deal with this place is, what’s coming next.”

She gazed at the looming door, an imposing reminder that their respite was temporary. “The last world was just… just horrible. Most of them have been. Everyone’s warped and twisted and just… not themselves. And being trapped in that… it’s like being akumatized, but being fully aware of it the whole time, and no one else knowing or CARING that something’s wrong!”

At least she hadn’t run across her counterpart in this last world. Judging by that Ladyblog article, she’d rather not have had anything to do with her. Experiencing the twisted version of herself she’d been forced to inhabit during her nightmare had been quite bad enough, thankyouverymuch. Hopefully she didn’t run into any other warped versions of herself.

Somehow she doubted the universe would be that nice.

Nino put his arm around her shoulders, giving her a warm smile. “I know things look bad. I’m worried too. But… just look at us!” He gestured to Adrien and Marinette, still lost in their own little world, then back to Alya. “We’re together. All four of us. Whatever this place has in store, we’ll manage.”

He leaned in closer. “And for us two especially… well, it isn’t exactly the first time we’ve been in trouble together, is it?”

Her face softened as she gave Nino a small smile. His courage (and recklessness, but she wasn’t exactly one to talk) attacking Anansi repeatedly, over and over, even though he stood no chance of beating her, staying with her after she was infected by Zombizou, just holding her, unwilling to let her go through that alone-

There was no one she’d rather have by her side. 

“Thanks.” Leaning over, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’re right. Even if things go wrong, even if everything seems hopeless, I know you’ll be there for me, and I’ll be there for you.”

On Heroes Day, she’d seen him be targeted by Dark Cupid. And she just… she couldn’t lose him. 

So she’d taken the arrow instead.

She didn’t remember anything after that of course – the victims of mind-altering akumas usually didn’t – but she’d seen the footage. 

He’d held her, tried to calm her, speaking to her gently even as she struggled to get away and fight him.  

He didn’t give up on trying to get through to her.

Even if this place tried to warp them, break them, change them, showed facsimiles of them doing the most horrible things, tried to say they were real, that this was who they were – they’d always know the truth.

Slowly she stood up, facing the door, fists clenched. “You know what, world!” she shouted, “It doesn’t matter how much stuff you throw at us. We’re friends, and we’re a team. We’ll figure out a way out of here, kick the butt of whoever’s responsible, and get back home! So WATCH OUT!”

Looking over her shoulder, she smiled triumphantly at her friends. “You ready to take on whatever’s waiting for us?”

“Yeah!” Nino and Marinette cheered.

“Mmmmr?” Adrien grumbled sleepily, sounding like a disgruntled cat.

“…Maybe five more minutes,” Marinette chuckled.

Ooph

It would be nice if the world would NOT just drop them. But things just had to be that little bit more difficult, didn’t they? Because just walking through a door and stepping foot on the other side would be too easy. But noooo, the world had to be PETTY about it.

After standing up and dusting herself off, she took a look around.

“Huh. Francois-Dupont. Shoulda figured.”

At least they wouldn’t have to navigate an unfamiliar site.

Looking around, nothing particularly stood out as unusual. Not that it had with previous worlds either, but with this thing, you never knew.

Pulling up her phone she quickly checked the Ladyblog.

What Ladybug REALLY thinks of Chat Noir: Lila tells all

Lila Rossi: The Most Talented Teen Of Our Generation

Malicious Marinette Bullies Disabled, Promising Classmate Lila Rossi

So this version of her was completely fooled by Lila. And also was down with publicly shaming her friends.

Not a surprise considering her counterpart in the previous world had even worse things to say about Adrien, and in her nightmare-

She shuddered.

Ok, best not to think about that more than she had to.

(She had a feeling she’d have to).

Marinette looked over her shoulder and grimaced. “Oh. Lila.”

Yeah, that about summed up how she felt too.

Clicking on the articles, the first two seemed… well, bad, but she’d seen worse.

The tell-all about Ladybug’s and Chat’s relationship was mostly just Lila bragging about supposedly being Ladybug’s best friend while inserting little jibes about how Chat wasn’t really all that competent and how she’d been thinking of recruiting more heroes, while HEAVILY hinting that she herself would have a large role in the selection process.

The second was just her standard bragging and lies like she’d sometimes tell around school. Annoying to see herself lap them up, but well – she’d kinda done that when she first met her, though not to THIS extent. 

But the last one-

Bugheads, I regret to inform you that a girl I once foolishly called a ‘friend’, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, is a bully and a liar. I know I’ve promoted her work on this platform before, but that was before I knew she’d secretly been stealing Lila’s designs, badmouthing and lying about her behind her back to certain influential people, and even going so far as to trip her down stairs, bump into her, and purposely aggravate her medical conditions when no one’s looking!

I know this is hard to believe. It took me awhile to come to terms with as well. But she’s not the awesome person I and some other media outlets and celebrities have hyped her up to be in the past.

No; that honor goes to Lila, the most talented, kindest, and all-around best person in existence. 

You want further proof of Lila’s awesomeness? She’s the reason the Ladyblog’s even a thing, the reason Ladybug’s a superhero at all! In fact, Ladybug looks up to her so much, she wanted LILA to be Ladybug at first, but she refused, seeing the talent in our beloved bug. She encouraged Ladybug to try being a superhero and pushed her into action, gave her the self-confidence she needed to become a pillar of the city. Truly we all owe Lila a debt of gratitude, and owe Marinette contempt for how she’s treated her.

Marinette peered at her phone and snorted. “She really leans into the ‘false fox’ thing, huh?”

Alya just shook her head. Clearly, this universe ran on irony.

…Oh what was she saying, even their normal universe ran on irony. She wasn’t about to forget the absurd ‘unrequited requited’ love square her best friend had managed to get into with Adrien. When she’d gone home after finding out about all THAT, she’d buried her face in her pillow and intermittently screamed and laughed her head off for a few hours.

Okay, admittedly, finding out about the existence of the Lovesquare (and consequently that two of her favorite ships were actually the SAME ship and were helping to block each other) was hardly the only reason she’d been screaming into her pillow. There’d been a LOT for her to digest that day.

More importantly though, the early part of the article was troubling. It rang a little too similar to Adrien’s, Nino’s, and her own nightmare worlds.

With the way it talked about Marinette… maybe she was the sane person in this universe? The one who was ‘split off’ of one of them upon arrival in this world? Assuming this world functioned the way the last one did of course, which was by no means guaranteed. 

Then again, the ‘Marinettes’ of some of the other worlds had also been put through this kind of thing, and the ones for Adrien’s and Nino’s worlds at least DEFINITELY weren’t in their right minds…

This would require more investigation.

A hand forcefully pulled her downwards and to the side.

“Waaa-!”

“Shh!” 

Marinette put a finger to her lips.

Confused, she looked at the school.

There was herself, walking out of school… beside Lila.

Her heart dropped. Reading the articles, this version of herself was clearly ‘friends’ with Lila. If you could call any relationship with Lila ‘friendship’. Did she even know what true friendship was like, or had she fooled herself into thinking that manipulating others was at the core of every close relationship? …Maybe she HADN’T ever had a mutually supportive relationship before, never experienced what a good friendship should be like. 

Lila was a threat certainly, and wasn’t that great a person… but maybe it was possible for her to be better?

She shook herself slightly. Time to focus on the here and now. That wasn’t actually Lila, nor could she DO anything about Lila right now. Trying to puzzle out what to do about her wasn’t exactly a priority at the moment.

She quietly stowed that whole train of thought. Maybe later she could explore that more, talk it over a bit with the others once they were out of danger.

“…so then the prince asked ME to be his top advisor! Of course, I had to say no, since I’m already advising that king – you remember the one I told you about – on how best to rule his country, and conflict of interest and all. I DID help set him up with his fiancé though! I’m even invited to his wedding!”

Well. Those were stupidly extravagant lies. Still not too far outside what she expected from Lila though.

The ‘Alya’ of this universe ate it right up. “Oh Lila. You’re so smart, and talented, and famous, and powerful. I’m so glad you’re leading several charitable agencies as well! How DO you find the time?”

Lila gave a dramatic, long-suffering sigh. “It’s hard, but I just HAD to bring everyone’s attention to the urgent need for penguin sweaters! Those poor little things…”

“Seriously? Penguin sweaters?” Alya muttered quietly. “How ridiculous-“

Marinette shook her head, whispering back, “Actually, that’s real.”

She blinked. “Huh?”

“People thought it would be helpful for penguins impacted by oil spills, but it turned out not to be very useful and they got way more of them than could ever be used. Most of the ones received were sold for money to support penguins instead.”

That… actually made a lot of sense. You ask people for help putting cute penguins in tiny sweaters, you’re gonna end up with a LOT of tiny sweaters.

And if she was running a charity collecting the penguin sweaters, and they usually ended up being sold for funds instead of being put on penguins ANYWAY…

Oh. That was DEVIOUS. She was almost impressed.

“I can’t believe Marinette refused to make more penguin sweaters to help! What does she have against helping penguins stay warm!” ‘Alya’ fretted.

Lila put on a sad face. “Sadly, not everyone can be as kind and enlightened as you and I.”

Marinette mimed gagging. Alya was inclined to agree with her.

She might’ve swallowed Lila’s lies before, but she was never this sycophantic. 

And then this world’s Marinette came barreling out the front doors.

She tensed.

Oh crap she was running right past ‘Alya’.

‘Alya’ stuck out a foot.

Right in her path.

This was gonna be-

‘Alya’ pulled back her foot seconds before ‘Marinette’ reached her, a look of confusion and shock on her face before quickly smoothing away into a sneer.

“Well look who it is,” she said disdainfully, “the penguin-hater.”

‘Marinette’ looked away and downwards, her voice breaking a little. “I- I’m so busy with all my commissions, making the scarf for you, organizing school field trips, I- I’m not gonna devote that much time creating sweaters for a fake charity, that Lila’ll just sell for profit!”

Lila gasped. “Why Marinette, how could you possibly accuse me of such a heinous act! I would never do something so awful!”

“How dare you say such a thing about Lila, if you don’t- take that back-“ 

Alya’s eyes narrowed. Her counterpart seemed to be struggling, spitting words out but… it almost seemed like something was forcing them out of her throat.

And her eyes, her expression…

Her eyes bulged, her face screwing up slightly. 

‘Alya’ stepped forwards, towards ‘Marinette’, her hand closing into a fist-

And put one foot forwards a little too much, abruptly stopping her forward momentum, then moved back slightly. She grit her teeth, breathing raggedly. “I’ll- I’ll tell someone about it,” she slowly said, seeming to shape every word. “They’ll be- be really upset.” She closed her eyes, closing her mouth into a straight line. Noises emerged from her throat, but with her mouth closed, no words.

‘Marinette’s’ eyes narrowed, taking on a dangerous expression.

And then she blinked and it was gone, the doe-eyed expression returning.

But Alya saw it.

Something was wrong here.

Something was VERY wrong here.

‘Marinette’ looked at the ground, scuffing her feet. “Are- are you going to lie about me again? Tell them I’m hurting Lila, like you did before?”

“YOU’RE the liar!” Lila spat. “Tell her, Alya!”

‘Alya’ jerked, her tongue loosening. But her eyes widened, looking terrified. “It’s not a lie,” she spoke mechanically. “You are awful. Lila said you did those things, so you did. You de-de-deserve-“

Abruptly she started walking away, still attempting to finish her sentence. 

“Hey, where’re you GOING?!” Lila called. 

Alya just jerked her head to either side in what looked like an approximation of shaking her head, if it was done while actively fighting against something. Her pace sped up.

‘Marinette’ glared after her.

Alya looked at her friends. All of them looked shaken, eyes nearly as wide as Alya’s counterpart had been.

“Should we-?” she asked.

They all nodded and as a group, quietly followed after this universe’s version of Alya – and she was beginning to suspect, the ‘split-off’ fragment of herself.

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

As ‘Alya’ got further away, her pace sped up until she full-on ran, her movements becoming smoother, less jerky and forced. 

Alya herself was doing the best she could just to keep up with – well, ‘Alya’. Girl could be fast when she wanted to be. The four of them had long since abandoned ‘sneaking around’ in favor of ‘just trying not to lose track of her’ several minutes ago.

Luckily she was pretty distrac-

‘Alya’ abruptly stopped and turned around.

Ah, crap.

“Who- what-?”

Hissing slightly, she grabbed her other self, pulling her over to a nearby alley and out of sight. Her friends hurriedly followed them.

Was this necessary? She wasn’t sure. But the idea of being out in the open talking about this made her hair stand on end.

Better to be at least slightly hidden.

A spark went off in ‘Alya’s’ eyes. “An akuma! That’s why-!”

“No. Well… at least, WE’RE not following any akuma.”

Maybe an akuma was responsible for this? If so though, they were being surprisingly cagey about it. They tended to be a lot more obvious than this.

Her eyebrows furrowed. “If not an akuma then-“

“We’re not from around here,” she cut in.

“Wait, who are ‘we’?”

Just then Marinette, Adrien, and Nino rounded the corner.

‘Alya’ flinched for a moment looking at Marinette, braced herself… and then relaxed. “That… that THING that took over me… it’s gone now?” she murmured confusedly.

So her suspicions were correct. 

“It happened to you too, huh?”

‘Alya’ blinked. “You’ve gone through it?!”

She shrugged. “Something like it at least. I was trapped within my own body, my own head. I didn’t realize anything was wrong for a few moments, but… well, the nasty thoughts towards Marinette clued me in that something was off, and once those thoughts transformed into actions...”

‘Alya’ shuddered. “Things were fine at first, when I was just walking with Lila. Until the subject turned to Marinette anyway. Something niggled at me once the whole penguin sweater thing came up, but I couldn’t place it. 

Then a thought came to trip her down the stairs. And when I balked, it started to sound more like a command than my own thoughts. I was still able to stop it, but… barely.

But it just kept going. If I hadn’t been able to force myself away-“

She let out a small sob.

Outwardly Alya gave her counterpart a hug and a small, hopefully reassuring smile. Though considering how forced it was, she wasn’t sure whether it did the job. 

Inside she seethed. This… this thing, this compulsion, this controlling entity had no right. And just… why? Why did this thing want her to hurt Marinette so badly?

The violence, the bullying… just… why?

And why the focus around Marinette?

Every world so far had revolved around her in some way, either with her as the main victim or as the main perpetrator. Or both. 

Granted, Adrien showed up too, but… he didn’t seem to be focused on to the same extent. 

Was Marinette being targeted for some reason? 

“We’re going to figure this out.”

Alya snapped out of it, turning towards the speaker.

Marinette stood in the alleyway, a fire in her eyes. “I’m tired of seeing my friends warped. I’m tired of seeing them controlled. And I’m especially tired of seeing it done using my face!”

Done using her-

Ah.

So she’d picked up on it too.

“…Huh?”

So ‘Alya’ hadn’t noticed. Unsurprising. She’d had other things to concentrate on.

“That ‘Marinette’, that supposed version of me… she acted strangely. She seemed upset when you managed to fight off against the worse compulsions trying to control you. And considering previous experience… well I’m pretty suspicious.”

‘Alya’ mouthed ‘what happened-‘, then shook herself. “…Maybe you guys should come home with me and explain.”

----------

“So none of this is real?”

Alya nodded. “Well, so far as we know.”

“That explains my memories at least,” ‘Alya’ muttered. “I remember doing all this awful stuff to Marinette and being a complete sycophant to Lila, but… none of it feels real. Like it’s something I read about or maybe saw in a show, not something I actually did.”

She stared at her hands. “Which means the first time I’ve actually had a chance to fight back against this THING was today.”

“And you did great.”

She looked up at Nino.

“Don’t you see?” he continued. “Even with all this made-up backstory, even with it controlling your body, you still realized something was wrong and fought back. And you WON.”

She glanced to the side. “Yeah, but only barely. And only by forcing my feet to walk away. What if- what if I CAN’T next time?! Or- or if it’s able to reassert control over me?!”

“Then I’ll fight for you. Wouldn’t be the first time. I WON’T abandon you.”

Alya chuckled. That was for sure. It was one reason she was so easily able to figure out his secret identity; Nino disappearing while she was in danger? Not likely. He’d fought Anansi for her, stayed with her after she was infected by Zombizou, even tried to talk her out of the Dark Cupid infection.

If she was in danger, even if she WAS the danger, Nino would still be there for her.

…Though at some point they may need to have the whole ‘I’d rather you save yourself than go down with me’ talk. She’d delayed it since she figured it’d be useless. Marinette had tried a similar talk on Adrien after taking a blow from an akuma for her once again, which to the surprise of no one, didn’t seem to have changed his stubbornness about making sure she stayed alive, uninjured, and uncaptured, even at his own expense. But hey, at least she made an effort.

It was weird to see Nino addressing this version of herself as being her, but… well, she was, wasn’t she? Even now, while it was weird, it felt more like an out-of-body experience than him talking to someone separate. Not that she was actually experiencing what her counterpart did. It just felt like everything she was saying, everything that was going on with her, applied to herself as well. 

Almost like… almost like an empathic bond, but the feelings themselves didn’t exactly transmit? It was hard to explain. 

Which come to think of it-

“There’s another reason why everything before we arrived felt unreal,” she told ‘Alya’

Luckily, she took the revelation of what they believed to be her true nature rather well. She’d even looked a little relieved.

“Better than being entirely manufactured for this mess of a world,” she said, grimacing. 

The explanation of how ‘Marinette’ had been acting, along with the more in-depth explanation of what all of them had been through so far prompted more discussion. 

“So what’s the theory then?” she asked, sipping on some hot cocoa. It wasn’t that cold outside, but after what she’d been through? She deserved some comfort. 

Not that she was the only one. They’d all scrounged up some warm, fluffy blankets to arrange into a nest along with hot cocoa and chocolate chip cookies for everyone.

The food was delicious, exactly how she remembered – EXACTLY how she remembered. They’d all had a quick discussion and come to the conclusion that they were tasting what they expected it to taste like, rather than what it actually would taste like. Which explained why she, Nino, and Marinette, who’d all had a decent amount of delicious cookies over the past few years, tasted normal, but really good cookies. They probably wouldn’t have noticed anything remiss if Adrien hadn’t complained of not being able to pin down the flavor or texture of the cookie; it’d been years since he’d had a chocolate chip cookie, so his memories weren’t as fresh.

Something which Marinette had already promised to rectify when they got back home. She had a feeling they’d all be pulled into a baking lesson – while Marinette and Adrien enjoyed time alone together, something like baking was often more fun all together. They’d had some experience with it anyway, with Sabine recruiting her and Adrien to help with the bakery when Tom fell ill.

It might’ve been a little crowded at times, but it’d been fun!

“My best guess is that that ‘Marinette’,” Marinette put air-quotes around her name, “might be partly responsible for whatever was going on with you. Or at least, benefitting from it somehow.”

 ‘Alya’ frowned. “That would explain some things, like why getting away from her caused that controlling entity to release. Though Lila was also there.”

Hm. She had a point.

“Lila’s acting pretty normal though,” Marinette cut in. “But then again, she already acts like these messed-up versions of people. Huh. Come to think of it, she also has a similar weird hold on people. Well at first anyway. So maybe she just didn’t need to be altered that much to fit in with this world?”

Actually-

 “Is it just me, or does the messed-up version of Marinette remind you of Lila, but like, on steroids? Especially in the last world.”

Marinette blinked, then grimaced. “That… actually makes a lot of sense. She had a similar focus on everyone needing to worship her, and along with the pure vindictiveness she had towards Adrien, it was pretty reminiscent of Lila’s vendetta against you, me, and Ladybug.”

“Maybe Lila’s not actually Lila and she’s just some version of whatever this entity controlling and twisting people is? Like a weaker version.”

She laughed. “That’d certainly make her easier to take care of. I think we’re stuck with her, unfortunately.”

‘Alya’ frowned. “Putting that aside, what’s the plan? How do we get out of here?”

Marinette sat back, putting her hand on her chin. “Well Chat was able to break out when he was able to lay out what was wrong with that messed up ‘Ladybug’, and before that we were all able to break out when we figured out what was wrong with the worlds we were in and rejected them. That’ll be a little more difficult this time around with how this thing keeps trying to control you.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “You were able to fend it off a little right? Not just by fighting directly, but by modifying it?”

‘Alya’ slowly nodded. “I was able to tone down some of the speech the thing wanted me to say even when I wasn’t able to stop it completely. So long as it was still within the ballpark of what it wanted me to do or say, it released a little.”

Light dawned in her eyes. “So maybe if I can work around it a little, go after the problems and inconsistencies in a way that’s not directly against what it wants me to do, it might loosen up enough for me to strike the final blow!”

Marinette smiled and nodded. “That might work! Do you know how you could do that though?”

‘Alya’ slowly smiled, gears seeming to turn in her head. “You know, I think I have an idea…”

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

‘Alya’ approached the school steps. Or rather, Rena; talks concerning both herself and her counterpart had gotten confusing a few times, until her counterpart had suggested that one of them take the name ‘Rena’ while the other stuck with ‘Alya’.

She’d been more than happy to take ‘Rena’, especially after finding out Ladybug and Chat’s secret identities. Well, more like rediscovering them. As soon as they mentioned it, the knowledge just kind of slotted in, like she’d known it for a long time but had gotten buried and just called to the surface again.

It’d just felt right. She hadn’t been called on to be Rena Rouge again since Heroes Day in this reality. Which made a lot more sense after finding out who Ladybug was (well, finding out again, she guessed).

Being called Rena by everyone? Having that affirmation that she was part of the team, part of their group? It’d made her feel like she belonged.

But Marinette calling her by that name had meant the most to her. She’d been the one to give her the ability to be Rena Rouge, to have chosen her as the first new Miraculous wielder. Giving her the Fox Miraculous may not have been possible right now, but she’d given her something else; her trust, her confidence, her belief that she could do this.

Marinette had chosen her to be a hero.

She wanted to live up to that.

The five of them spent the rest of the evening and night chatting and goofing, then finally going to sleep. Her parents and siblings never came home. No message explaining where they were either. They’d speculated that since they weren’t very important to this world, to this narrative it seemed to be building up, they just… weren’t there. At least, not yet. Like how a video game engine might render smaller background elements in less detail than larger, more important elements, or only render them as backdrops – at least, until the player got closer.

Speaking of video games, fortunately hers and Nino’s favorite dancing game still worked here. Only the songs they’d played a few times, but luckily that was most of them. They’d competed against Adrien and Marinette, beating them narrowly, experience winning out. She had a feeling that if they got an opportunity to practice more she and Nino would have quite a fight on their hands keeping the top spot. She and Nino had experience and moves, but the level of coordination between Adrien and Marinette was unreal.

They’d ended up dragging their blanket nest to the living room once they figured out her family likely wasn’t going to make an appearance. Technically everyone could cram into her bedroom, but it was a little tight for all five of them to sleep in there, especially if they needed to go to the bathroom.

Which they apparently didn’t? It took awhile for any of them to notice, but none of them had felt the need to do so the entire time they’d been there. No one felt hungry or thirsty exactly either, though eating and drinking were still comforting even if it didn’t appear to be a bodily necessity.

Sleep DID appear to be necessary. Everyone’s eyes had started drooping around 10 pm, none worse than Adrien’s. Part of that may’ve been an excuse to lay down and cuddle Marinette while purring up a storm though.

Smiling at the memory, she turned into the classroom.

Immediately her smile died.

The entity, the compulsion - whatever it was - had returned.

Do you see that bully, that two-faced slime? It whispered. She’s evil. You should let her know exactly how much you despise her. You know she deserves it.

She wasn’t about to fall into its trap.

She’d play its game, but by her own rules.

Her feet took her towards ‘Marinette’, towards her usual seat.

‘Marinette’ looked away from her coldly.

Then she stood up and made her way over to Chloe, sliding into the seat next to her.

Huh.

Where’d Sabrina go?

Unbidden, her feet took her over to ‘Marinette’ and Chloe.

Rip them to shreds, the voice said. She’s evil, and she’s proven it by siding with Chloe. You can do anything you want to them, say anything you want, and they’ll deserve it.

It wanted her to destroy them, huh?

It probably meant in a similar way to before, trying to hurt and damage ‘Marinette’ emotionally and physically.

But she had other plans.

So long as it still appeared hostile and anti-Marinette, or anyone on her side, maybe it’d work?

“So you’re taking Sabrina’s place, huh?” she said testily.

For a moment she was afraid the compulsion, the entity would force her to add something unintended to that; but it seemed to accept her declaration, at least for now.

Hopefully she could keep it like that. Maybe not fully satisfied, but not perturbed to the point it took over and forced her to act against her will – at least until it’d weakened enough for her to strike.

“At least Chloe never pretended to be my friend! At least she was honest!” ‘Marinette’ shot back.

She could see the argument. Easier to befriend someone who’d never been on your side than someone you’d once been close to and who’d then turned on you. And to be fair Chloe’d shown some small signs of being able to do better.

But there were flaws in that logic.

“Why though?” she asked, looking at Chloe. “You’ve been mistreating all of us, sometimes for years, and one of your closest ‘friends’ worst of all. Why is it only now that you’re okay with Marinette?”

Chloe scoffed. “At least I don’t worship some liar. And I can still tell who’s the REAL bully.”

“But why you above-“

She choked.

What are you doing?! What are you even trying to say?! Criticizing Chloe for being too nice?

Ok so she couldn’t go in that directly, not while implying so heavily that her defending ‘Marinette’ was a good thing.

So what negative thing-

Sabrina.

That was it!

It hadn’t stopped her talking about Sabrina before, so maybe-

“And what about Sabrina? You know, your closest ‘friend’? The one who does your homework, covers for you, steals for you, provides anything you need, and yet you repay with verbal abuse?”

Chloe glared at her. “She’s honored to serve me. She loves me!”

“What’re you trying to say, Alya?” ‘Marinette’ cut in. “It’s not like you’re any better. We used to be friends, but you threw me away the second someone came along who seemed shinier, more interesting, more powerful. I gave so much of myself to you, but now you just hurl insults on Lila’s say-so.”

Not in the regular universe; unfortunately she couldn’t say that just yet. Too direct. Too soon.

“Why do you think Chloe will treat you better than she does Sabrina?  And if you’re comparing me to Chloe, or I guess to Sabrina if I’m supposedly Lila’s lackey… what gives Chloe a pass?”

What does this have to do with anything? Tear into Marinette! Tear into Chloe! What’re you waiting for?!

She suppressed a smile. The voice might be making demands, but it was a little quieter, a little less compelling than it was before.

Chloe stood up, shoving herself in Rena’s face. “Now listen here Cesaire. I can recognize the talent you threw away, misused, mistreated! You might not have fully appreciated Marinette, but I DO. Finally, she has friends who recognize what she truly deserves.

That’s what makes me different. I know the worth of the people around me. And you? YOU are worthless.”

Well even in these circumstances, Chloe was still at least somewhat Chloe.

But as for the rest of it-

“But that’s the thing! Those descriptors of how I supposedly treated Marinette better match how you treat Sabrina. And you never cared much about Marinette even after she helped with your mom. So why’re you the one who defends Marinette above anyone else? It’s almost like-“

STOP. PUNCH HER. RIP UP HER STUFF. SCREAM AT HER. HURT HER.

She bit her tongue.

The compulsion, the entity, had run out of patience.

But it wasn’t as powerful as it used to be; she could feel the undertone of fear in its commands.

And she was NOT about to let it puppet her around again.

She ground out, “It’s almost like you and I swapped.”

A ripple ran through her body.

Her jaw unclenched slightly.

The entity had faded to a whisper.

She straightened up, looking ‘Marinette’ straight in the eyes. “Chloe being the one who recognizes bullying and stands up to it? Sabrina seeming to almost disappear when convenient? All while everyone else descends into really toxic relationships, becoming sycophants who do whatever Lila says, no matter how hurtful? It doesn’t make sense! Chloe’s been getting better but that doesn’t mean she’s suddenly one of the only people in class with a moral compass, especially when she’s STILL treating Sabrina as badly as ever, treating her the way everyone else has been contorted into treating you!”

Looking up, she gazed at the rest of the class. “And with everyone else; would this really happen? None of us are perfect. All of us have our off days. But this sustained bullying of a friend? Badmouthing her, pushing her out, even trying to hurt her or damage her stuff? Even with Chloe who we’ve all actually experienced bullying, none of us did worse than avoid her or make a few comments and we still helped her when she was in trouble like when Zombizou came after her! No matter what lies we might be told, we wouldn’t be this callous, this hurtful, this openly malicious.”

‘Marinette’ glared at her, her face stony. 

Rena breathed in one last time, and gave the final blow. “THIS. ISN’T. REAL.”

The world shattered and dissolved, breaking apart into small particles. ‘Marinette’ broke last, expression unchanging.

A tingling went up her spine, followed by a light, floaty feeling. For a moment she started to panic.

Memories surged through her mind. 

"Before this past year, I've never been very confident. I was always kinda a screw-up. But you gave me HOPE, Alya. I meant it when I said that Ladybug thinks you're cool. You INSPIRED me, Alya."

“You might not come up with the super complicated plans that Ladybug does, but you can do them your own way. You’ve got this.”

A moment later her body felt solid again as she reconciled two - no, three sets of memories; the ones the false world had created for her, as well as the two sets of memories from her adventures while she was split apart.

“Disorienting isn’t it?” Adrien asked.

She nodded as he helped her off the floor.

Looking at her friends, she smiled.

These worlds may be trying to break and remake them. 

But they’d forge through nonetheless.

She knew who she was.

And no entity was going to change that.

---------

(A/N) I really wanted to cover the whole "making Alya violent and malicious and a bully in order to have her victimize Marinette" thing more. Especially since... well... unlike with Adrien bashing which has several distinct categories (heck Adrien and Chat are bashed for some pretty different things) Alya bashing resides on more of a continuum, with what I'd argue is the WORST of it being the "hurting Marinette" stage. Oftentimes Marinette's just her hapless victim during this part, though that sometimes changes later; sometimes she at least ACTS kind of like canon Marinette would in that situation and doesn't have a complete personality transplant, in which case either her protection squad does the dirty deed of enacting revenge or she moves away or commits suicide, in which cases the revenge is meted out via the guilt breaking Alya or by family/friends/law enforcement coming after her for being so awful to Marinette. Though for the moving away plotline, I think it's often more "Alya learns that everything good and fun and pure came because of Marinette and without her she is nothing and everything falls apart."

Even in the cases where Marinette HERSELF isn't warped much, if the people around her are warped, contorted, made into people they aren't in order to promotes this whole "Marinette Deserves Better" mindset by importing or exaggerating negative qualities into them... well... that's still only slightly better. I wanted to cover how Alya WOULD NOT DO this stuff; she seems to be used more as a puppet or a stand-in for the character the author wants or needs for the story, this traitorous, violent, malicious, sycophantic (to the wrong person) former friend. Alya's name and appearance are used for this, but her personality is scrubbed out and replaced. Hence why she's controlled so tightly here; this part of the storyline in a lot of Alya bashing fics wouldn't work if it was derived from things that were within the realm of what she might do canonically, of how she's been shown to act.

I also wanted to cover the whole "replace Alya's role with Chloe" thing that crops up a lot. I like a good Chloedemption but when it's done while making the 'good' characters fill in for her role as a bully while she just magically becomes better? It doesn't work and comes off as very hypocritical.

 I understand where some of the general idea came from. Chloe was hot off the heels of the Queen's Battle arc and Heroes Day when Chameleon aired and with Lila's threat about turning Marinette's friends against her combined with Alya being receptive to Lila's lies? There was a certain amount of narrative sense.

It's really when Alya became more and more warped into someone she wasn't along with canon showing that while she may buy some of Lila's lies to a limited capacity but yet won't leave Marinette high and dry and CERTAINLY won't try to intentionally hurt her that that plotline became grating. 

Doesn't help that well... all the accusations I hear about Alya being a terrible friend to Marinette... even in a lot of saltfics, the ones that don't go so far as to have her try to physically harm Marinette, that fits how Chloe treats Sabrina or even Adrien far, far, FAR better than how Alya treats Marinette (seriously the Alyanette friendship is great and I love their relationship). If Chloe tried to show Marinette what a "better" friendship was like by treating Marinette the same way she treats Sabrina... well there's a reason I've never seen that done.

ANYWAY, I wanted to pour as much sugar as I could onto Alya. She needs love and comfort and appreciation and for nice things to happen to her. 

#divergent points #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #alya sugar #alya cesaire #ml fandom salt #fandom salt #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe

[jaxsteamblog]

Enemies

Click here to read the full fic on AO3

The palace was as grand as she thought. Architecture wasn’t anything she ever showed any interest in, but there were certain buildings that she just knew were designed well. The ice palace of the North Pole was a fortress but still kept all the swirling, arching beauty of ocean swells. The Earth Kingdoms had strong bases with any number of geometric patterns stacked in a mighty display.

The Fire Nation had some of the oldest, man made buildings in the world.

On the palace grounds, Katara was amazed by the dark wooden floors, the massive pillars, and the ornate scrollwork all along the beams. With the palace at the top of the mountain, and the land below being mostly prairie, she wondered at the perseverance to drag all that timber up this high.

“It’s pretty, right?” Sokka asked as they got out of the car.

“Incredibly so.” Katara replied.

“You know this is a dormant volcano?” He questioned. Katara jumped and Sokka laughed.

“There’s magma way down in the earth. Nothing to worry about.” Zuko said as he approached. Katara didn’t relax and scowled at him as he walked up.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure I’m going to enjoy every minute of this now.” Katara said and rolled her eyes. Zuko hugged her and kissed the top of her head.

Sokka blanched loudly.

“I cannot believe you two are dating, dating now.” He lamented.

“We can’t officially. There’d be a scandal.” Katara replied with mock admonishment.

“I can only hope that day never comes.” Sokka muttered and started off toward the palace.

“You and Suki are affectionate all the time!” Katara shouted after him.

“Come on, let me show you to your room.” Zuko said.

They walked inside and Katara gasped at the interior. There was so much wood, it felt like she was a doll being kept in an ornate chest. The electric lights and air vents seemed anachronistic against the lacquer and ancient wooden beams, but it was still a sight to behold.

“We haven’t had so many guests all at once in a long time, so hopefully everything is ready.” Zuko said as they walked. “I didn’t get a chance to check.”

Housekeepers were still in Katara’s room as they came to it, startling them.

“Oh, your highness. I’m sorry, we’re not quite done.” A woman said, bowing while in the doorway.

“It’s fine. Is it possible to at least put her things away?” Zuko asked. The woman looked nervous but stood aside.

As Zuko and Katara entered the room, she wondered where the woman’s dread originated.

The room was done up like a movie set. Piles of furs were laid on the bed while torches were being shoved into ancient holders. It smelled like grease oil and pellet fire. Rough, woven blankets were partially tacked up in the doorways and there was, impossibly, a pair of snowshoes and hunting spear propped up against the wall.

“What is the meaning of this?” Zuko demanded as Katara looked around with her mouth open.

“Sir, we haven’t been able to find everything that was requested.” A man on a ladder said as he awkwardly held up a blanket.

“That’s not-” Zuko pressed his fingers to his forehead.

“I only wanted to make our guest feel more at home.” Another woman’s voice, high and lilting, came from the hall. Both Zuko and Katara turned to see Azula leaning in the doorframe.

“Azula, this is at best a horrible caricature and I know there was nothing good about your intentions here.” Zuko seethed.

Azula’s mouth went down as her eyebrows went up, pulling her face into smooth incomprehension.  She stood and raised her hands.

“Zuzu, you wound me. You know I’d never think to have someone feel unwelcome in our home.” She replied.

“Azula-” Zuko stopped as Katara held his hand. Looking down at her, Zuko was confused by her smile.

“Did you guys just have this stuff lying around?” She asked and then faced Azula. “Or did you really go to all this trouble to try and make me upset?”

Katara then turned and walked purposefully to the snowshoes. “Because these are genuine South Pole snowshoes and I don’t think I’ve seen a pair outside of a museum.”

Zuko sighed and turned to the housekeepers.

“It’ll be too warm for the furs. Please pack all of this up and have the room set like normal.” He said.

“Yes your highness!” They all said in unison, bowing deeply.

Katara and Zuko walked out of the room, pushing past Azula as they went.

“You’ll have to try harder than that, princess.” Katara whispered sharply. Azula narrowed her eyes and watched them go silently.

Azula did certainly try. Katara was given a sour imitation of seaprune stew for lunch. Speaking politely, Katara requested a regular plate and offered to give Azula an authentic recipe. Later, her clothes here found out in a pond, but Katara could easily remedy that. Finally, when Katara’s toiletry bag went missing, she finally had enough.

For most of the day, it had only been the younger members of the group. Thuy, Toph, and Rohan had gotten delayed by the same storm but from further away and only arrived in the evening. The heads of states - Ozai, Hakoda, Arnook, Tenzin, and Kuei - were in meetings pertaining to the festival that would take place that night.

So it wasn’t until dinner that they were all together.

Katara sighed as the server placed a whole fish down in front of her.

“Is the food not to your liking?” Azula asked immediately.

“No, Azula, it’s not.” Katara replied. “If you’re going to serve fish, you should at least make sure a fish fork is out.”

Then, turning to the server - who looked incredibly fearful - Katara smiled. “May I please have the regular plate?”

“Of course, my apologies.” He said and bowed, taking her plate as he backed away.

“What is your problem Azula?” Zuko questioned and the rest of the table went quiet. The Fire Lord, sitting at the head of the table, steepled his fingers and watched his children. Tenzin, being the oldest person at the table, leaned back in his seat and rubbed his eyes.

“We have guests, Zuko. Do you really think this is the time for your petty squabbling?” Ozai asked.

“I think, father, that we should be addressing Azula’s petty behavior toward our guests.” Zuko answered evenly.

“Is there something we should know?” Arnook questioned and ice filled Katara’s heart. Literally every major leader sat at the Fire Lord’s dining table. This had never happened, and now there was the chance of something terrible happening.

“Azula must be held accountable for her disrespect.” Zuko stated and Katara took in a hissing breath.

“You have caused your sister to lose face in front of our esteemed guests. That is the utmost disrespect.” Ozai growled.

“Sounds like a stupid fight to me.” Thuy interjected. Everyone turned to the Avatar, who shrugged.

“I have a bratty little sister too.” She added. Azula spluttered while Zuko laughed.

“I believe the Avatar is reminding us that we are all human.” King Kuei said and Katara relaxed a bit.

“I don’t see why you have such a problem with Katara anyway.” Thuy said and smiled over at Katara. “I think she’s really nice.”

“You would, since you’re both cut from the same cloth.” Azula remarked snidely and jumped when Ozai slammed his hand on the table.

“You will not speak to the Avatar in such a manner.” He said.

“I’m to be her teacher, am I not? She should be showing me more respect.” Azula retorted.

“I think as I’m the Avatar, you should be the one showing some respect. Plus,” Thuy sat up straighter in her seat, glaring at Azula. “You shouldn’t treat a Queen so poorly.”

“And who is a Que-” Azula started cocky but stopped abruptly. Turning in her seat, she stared at Katara. “You?”

Katara nodded with a grin. “Me.”

Azula then whirled about, staring at Zuko. “You’re dating the Queen of the Water Tribes?”

“WHAT?” Came multiple voices, all at once.

Thuy laughed to herself, clapping her hands. “Yay! I had hoped so.”

---

Katara sat on a couch, her head in her hands.

“You cannot be romantically involved with the crown prince of the Fire Nation.” Arnook said.

Lifting her head, Katara flattened her hands in supplication. “Why not?”

“There’s inheritance to think of. If Zuko gives up his throne-” Hakoda said but Katara interrupted him.

“Why would Zuko give up his throne?” She asked.

“If you marry-” Arnook began.

“We just started dating!” Katara interjected.

“You can’t think in the short term Katara!” Hakoda bellowed. “This is serious!”

Katara stood up, her hand at her throat, gripping her mother’s necklace.

“Do you know what I’ve gone through for you?” She screamed. Hakoda took a step back and Sokka, previously standing in the corner, walked forward.

“Do you know how many people I killed before I turned eighteen? Do you know what it was like to fight, alone? Do you have any idea how it felt to hold mom’s body and being able to do nothing about it?” Katara yelled.

Sokka pushed past Hakoda and went to Katara. She shoved him away, turning her back on the others in the room.

“I am soul bound to the ocean, I saved the North Pole from destruction, I drowned the Fire Nation fleet.” Katara said, her voice rising as she spoke. She whirled around then, ice shards forming around her from the moisture in the air.

“I will be Queen, not because I want to be, but because it was ordered of me. And so, with all the rage and power of the ocean, I will do as I please with it.” She said. Her breath curled in the cold air, causing even more slivers of ice to glint in the light. In her fury, she sparkled.

“Katara-” Hakoda reached out and Katara pulled a wall of ice in front of her.

“I did all of this for you.” She said, tears rising and falling from her eyes. She touched her mother’s necklace again, lightly this time. “But I will love as I want, for mom.”

Sokka touched the ice wall and it parted for him; fractals shifting to let him through. He hugged Katara and she sniffled, burying her face into his shoulder.

“Come on.” He said softly and Katara nodded. He turned her and they walked out of the room.

“Are you okay?” Sokka asked once they started down the hall.

“When was the last time I was okay?” She responded. Sokka chuckled and held her hand.

Hearing running footsteps, they paused and looked around. Coming toward them was Zuko.

“Katara!” He shouted. Sokka released her hand and stepped aside. When Zuko ran up to them, he embraced Katara, picking her up and swinging her around.

“Are you okay?” Zuko asked as he set her down.

“I’ll be fine.” Katara said with a breathy laugh.

“Wonderful. I was worried because a pipe burst in the main hallway.” He said.

“What?” Sokka burst out laughing and Katara felt her face flush.

“I just got a little angry!” She said.

“Then I certainly don’t want to see you very angry.” Zuko replied.

“Hey Katara!” Thuy shouted from the end of the hall. “Did you break the pipes?”

Katara covered her face and groaned.

“Don’t worry, Sifu’s got it!” Thuy yelled.

“Get over here Wet Wipe and help with the water!” Toph bellowed.

“Yes, Sifu!”

Still groaning, Katara turned into Zuko’s arms, pressing her face against his chest.

They still had to get through the festival.

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#zutara #fanfiction #jax writes #modern au #zutara month 2020 #the fic that prompts built

[colehasapen]

(ONE SHOT) heturam STAR WARS

(belated)Whumptober no.22 - Do These Tacos Taste Funny To You?

Rex scowls furiously at the luridly bright drink General - “Call me Anakin, Rex! The War’s over!” - Skywalker had shoved into his hands with the claim of it being one of Senator Amidala’s favourites.

“Relax, Rex!” Skywalker had said, “Drink, mingle, have some fun!”

Well , Rex didn’t feel like having fun. It may be petty of him, but he hates the situation he’s found himself in. His skiing prickles nervously, and he lifts his eyes, searching for whoever was watching him - but unfortunately there’s a lot of eyes on him. It’s too open, there’s too many people - too many possible assassins, too many places where an attacker could be hiding. He hates it; he wishes he could have opted out of the whole thing like Cody or Bly had - off to enjoy their honeymoons with their stupidly attractive Jedi - and not needing to be fawned over and stared at by Senators who had been sending them to their deaths without hesitation for the last three years. The War was over, Fives had revealed the identity of the Sith Lord, and the Jedi were safe, but his brothers weren’t yet secure. It’s why he’s here, wearing an uncomfortable suit of what Senator Amidala assured him was the height of Alderaani fashion instead of his armour, and performing like an animal in a zoo for beings who had never seen combat to gawk at. All to ensure that the clones could get the most basic of sentient rights.

All the Commanders are present, and unfortunately that includes Rex now, because apparently General Skywalker promoted him two years ago but forgot to mention it. So he has to stay, to stand around and look pretty while Senator Amidala and her small group of sympathetic coworkers try to convince the Senators of the Republic that he and the other Vode are thinking, feeling beings who can do more with their lives then just die for them.

Rex grumbles a line of vicious curses he had heard General Kenobi use once - enough to make a pirate blush, Rex knows, because Kenobi had used it all on Hondo Ohnaka once and the pirate had instantly proposed - and ducks into a small alcove for a moment of peace, to avoid more stares and try to catch his breath. He knocks back a mouthful of the vivid purple and blue drink in his hands with a grimace.

“Why the long face, brother-mine?”

Rex jerks slightly at the voice, not having expected anyone to talk to him, to find that while he had been distracted, Keeli had wheeled himself over to join him. He hadn’t known that his batchmate would be attending - Keeli technically didn’t have a rank in the GAR anymore. He had survived the destruction of his battalion, but only barely, and had spent almost an entire year in bacta to heal; he still had limited mobility in the lower half of his body and looked almost wasted away, with too-sharp bones under too-thin limbs.

“I’m surprised General Che let you out of the Halls of Healing.” Rex drawls, but he gives his brother a quick once-over to check on him. He had put on weight over the months since the War ended, and his skin had started to take on a healthy tan once more, but he still looks like a hard gust of wind would knock him over. He’d had someone cut his hair back to the buzz he’d had after leaving Kamino, and whoever had picked out his suit had gotten it fitted perfectly to his measurements so that he wasn’t swimming in the fabric. The dark bags under his eyes are still there, his eyes are still dark with grief, but he’s smiling, a rare sight nowadays, and there’s a plate of various small foods balanced on his lap.

“I’m here to try and get the pity vote.” Keeli tells him cheerfully, but it sounds fake to Rex’s ears. “Proof that us clones will need long term care and help now that the War is over - that we were damaged by the battles, and we bleed too.” He pops some sort of pastry into his mouth, rolling his eyes. “Though I think I started a diplomatic incident.”

Rex raises a slow eyebrow, taking another mouthful of his drink, enjoying the burn it left on his tongue on the way down. It’s definitely fast acting, because he’s already starting to feel floaty - no wonder Senator Amidala liked it. “Oh?”

“Senator Syndulla just about challenged Burtoni to a duel for my honour.” Keeli says in dark amusement, and Rex scowls at his drink at the mention of the Kaminoan Senator, glad that the bright alcohol is strong enough to give him a buzz. “I’m pretty sure her days in the Senate are numbered.”

“I hope her days in general are numbered.”

Keeli snorts, lifting one of the foods in a mock-toast, “Here’s to that.” He chirps, and shoves the little cake into his mouth. He chews for a moment, then pauses thoughtfully, “Well, Skywalker actually has taste.” Keeli says after a moment, then grins cheekily at Rex, “Though I probably have his better half to thank for that.”

“Skywalker got you too?” Rex asks blandly, quickly downing the last of his drink to blink around the room. It’s a lot quieter than he remembers, the sound muffled - but the lights are bright, and they send stabs of pain into his aching head.

Keeli snickers, “He’s been making his rounds - I saw him trying to convince Commander Fox to try some sort of candied fruit.”

“He’d hate that.” The blond clone snickers, but he has to cough when the sound catches in his throat. He grimaces faintly at the pain in his chest - coughing was never fun, especially not with lungs scarred by a super plague.

“I do hate it.”

Rex jerks, swaying slightly as he turns too quickly to see that two more brothers have joined them. Fox is scowling in the general direction of the crowd, but Wolffe is watching Rex with a faint furrow in his brows.

“How much have you drank, blondie?” The one-eyed Vode asks gruffly, eyes narrowing.

“Jus’ the one.” Rex says - or, rather, he slurs - and he frowns slightly in confusion, trying to wet his suddenly dry mouth. He coughs again as his body cramps painfully, and he finds himself swaying again, suddenly feeling chilled.

Fox’s hand catches him by the elbow, drawing Rex’s attention to him. His brother looks openly worried, and it’s not an expression Fox wears well, “Rex, where did you get that drink?”

The younger Vode blinks groggily, and he can feel sweat beading on his face and neck, his mind foggy. It takes him a moment to completely understand what Fox is saying, and longer still to make his tongue and mouth form his response. “From th’ Gen’ral.” He rasps, and there’s a weird light in Fox’s expression.

“From Skywalker?” Fox asks, and he’s pulling a comm from the sleeve of his suit, cursing under his breath. Rex nods mutely, swaying where he stands. “Keeli - don’t eat any more from that plate.”

“Right.” Keeli’s voice sounds shaken when he talks, and Rex frowns, trying to turn to check on his batchmate, but he finds himself staggering clumsily into a broad chest dressed in grey fabric.

Wolffe. His words are muffled, even as close to Rex’s ear as he must be as Rex uses him as a pillar to lean against. “-going on?” The Commander growls, wrapping his arms around Rex’s hips, and it’s really the only thing holding him up at the moment as the world starts greying around the edges.

“Poison.” Fox is saying. “-get him out of here - medic coming - Guard - probably meant for Senator Amidala.”

Rex blacks out, surrendering to blissful unconsciousness. His last thought before everything fades is that Cody would be pissed that he went and got himself poisoned without him.

#cole writes #fanfiction #star wars #whumptober 2020 #no.22 #captain keeli #captain rex #commander wolffe #commander fox #sw fanfiction