#But large enough so there's little drama (just a block and move on!) that upsets people and there's plenty of fanwork to engage with!

[thatoneluckybee]

tumblr fandom is so fun of a format to me because with reblogs and searching up tags you can kinda see trends specific to said fandom. like... in yttd, the past week or so (i have little to no sense of time so i can't tell exactly lol) there's been a resurgence of Kanna fanart and general Kanna Love (probably due mainly to the RATS shenanigans!) as well as a resurgence of ransara art! (Absolutely no idea why people are remembering ransara now.) The past few days there's been more Nao fanart as well, but she's been happy in most of it!

Idk it's just fun to watch. Like when everyone was collectively drawing Shin Tsukimi top surgery or Catgirl Reko, or a few months ago when Keiji was EVERYWHERE, or the Midori antics like Bunnydori Day and Jeandori Takeover. It's so fun to watch everyone pass around the same few concepts and jokes through reblogs like hot potatoes.

[eddie-gluskin-and-i]

Daniel was wary- with good reason. He had "Stranger Danger" drilled into him from both family and school, and was fully aware that not everyone who claimed to know his parents, were friendly. Besides, his father had brought a few colleagues over for Dinner one time- and none of them looked like they had fallen out of a 1900s period drama. Nonetheless, caution didn't mean manners could be forgotten. "Do you know what he looks like, Eddie?" He asked, as politely as he possibly could, while slipping one hand into his pocket- where a vintage locket lay. It was part of a two piece set their mother had found at a flea market- and was the only piece of jewelry she always wore, besides her wedding ring.

If the tall man was unhappy in this request, his face - still shadowed- didn't show it. He did however, smile...and surprised Daniel with his description of his father. "...That's him, Mister! That's Daddy!" Jonathan interjected. Both brothers were polar opposites of each other, especially at that moment. While Daniel was considered a miniature version of Waylon, Jonathan was dark haired and blue eyed. He tried to shush his younger brother, who was treating this whole situation like a mini adventure, still beaming at Eddie. And yet, Daniel didn't wish to scare or upset Jonathan. "Th..that's him alright." He said, carefully placing the bat he had just picked up down again so that he could open up said locket. Daniel felt a chill as he showed Eddie the photos of both his parents, as if he had done something he shouldn't have. "That's him and Mum." The boy continued. "You said you knew our dad...how did you two meet? "Maybe we can find him in the last place you looked?" Piped up Jonathan, pleased to make a new friend. "Johnny....Dad's not an old sock! I remember he works with computers...." But there seemed to be not a computer in sight of this place that reminded them of a horror house for Halloween. Before either boy could say another word, the sound of heavier boots interrupted, followed by the clinking of chains. Until this moment, Daniel had still felt unsure about Eddie, even if he seemed charming and respected their boundaries. But the prospect of exploring this place alone wasn't just daunting. It was terrifying, far beyond what two boys could endure alone. "Little pig..." ((Your Move Eddie!)) #Wow I had a creative block #Sorry if its short #Can't wait to see how Eddie reacts to seeing Jonathan #Precious bean #Park Children #Eddie RP

A massive frame stood in the only doorway of the room. Its shoulders rose and fell with every heavy, ragged breath it took. There was no getting past it, that much Eddie knew.

He took hold of both boys’ hands and backed away slowly. There was a vent behind him just large enough for the children. The trick would be getting both up there before the disgusting monstrosity of a man could get to them.

“Don’t fret, my darlings,” he whispered as he lifted Daniel onto the table behind them. He swiftly knocked the vent grating open and helped the boy up just as the thing started growling and advancing. “You’ll be just fine. Now go.”

Jonathan, being the clever young boy he was, was already on the table and hauling himself into the vent just as the tall stranger man launched himself straight into the hulking thing.

“We can’t leave him behind!” Daniel cried, trying to crawl back out.

Jonathan stopped him and blocked the entrance with his arms. He took one last glance behind him at the stranger, who just barely dodged a crushing blow from the monster. His gut told him they had little time to flee. And his father always told him to trust his gut. He urged his little brother forward.

“We can’t go back now. It’s us. Always us, remember? Whatever happens, we have to stick together.”

Daniel sniffled, but didn’t protest any further. His big brother was always right.

A particularly loud crash spurred them both on their way through the darkness ahead. It wasn’t long before the frightening sounds of the fight became mere muffled echoes. Jonathan clutched the locket in his hand before continuing on, suddenly wishing that the stranger man was with them again.

[autumnslance]

Being in fandoms for so long yourself, do you have any tips on how to approach fandom in general? It can be so overwhelming sometimes!

Honestly avoid fandom as much as possible. 'Tis a silly place.

On a more serious note, I DO have a draft on staying sane on social media I’ve been slowly making. The main points are about knowing how your social media sites work in regards to tags, searches, cuts, filters, blocks, and mutes, and being liberal with using them for whatever reason you need. In general for this post: limit following counts and be picky about who you follow and why--don't just “follow back” because. Don’t sit in Discords that make you uncomfortable and keep utility servers to those channels needed and mute/hide the rest. I should get around to the rest eventually.

I maintain that sticking to what you love and with friends is better than trying to interact with “the fandom” at large. Especially as a property gets well known and a larger following, the vocal negative 1% seems to get louder and tiresome quickly. Protect yourself and your pals and enjoy what you wish, minimizing stress and drama and hurting real people over what’s supposed to be a shared interest of pretend characters and stories. More specifics of that below.

Limiting myself to some friends and branching off their recommendations, getting to know folks before hopping into servers or groups, helps a lot. I don’t have to engage with the entire fandom. I tend to hear about random dramas in passing, like a shadow underwater, because I interact with chill folks more interested in simply enjoying an interest, not in making it their entire life and identity and so having to be right or chase clout or whatever over a pretend world and make-believe characters, even if resonates with us.

Don't give too much of yourself away. Don't tell people all the ways to trigger you, or your vulnerabilities. Don't give away locations. Use basic internet safety and anonymity to keep folks at arms’ length as much as needed. You're not obligated to answer every DM, right away or ever. You can make some dear friends through fandom, but a single shared interest is not a guaranteed safe and healthy basis of relationships.

Focus on what you love, ignore what you don't. Yes, you want a healthy level of objectivity and criticism and sometimes you need to vent but overall, fandom experience is much better if you're actually enjoying the things you engage with. Don't force yourself to put up with things you don’t have fun with, but also let others have their fun (even if you don’t think that it is fun, if it isn’t harming other real people and dragging them down it’s fine even if you don’t get it). This can include leaving that fandom when the base material is no longer fun for you, leading to...

Remember that you don't own the characters and story; it's someone else's world, we just play in it. The creators are going to make choices and changes, some good and some bad; learn to accept that and keep fanon separate from canon. Interactions with creators via social media are also usually very surface level and parasocial; just because they make part of themselves visible and accessible, doesn't mean you know them, are friends, or are owed anything by their social presence.

Other fans have other takes; you may not like them, but they're valid. Sometimes those other ideas too can make you rethink or add to your own, make you realize some things you hadn’t considered due to a blindspot in your own experiences, and add to your understanding of characters and story arcs. So be open to others’ ideas. Find those of a like mind more or less and stick with ‘em.

Don’t let fandom ruin a thing for you. If you find yourself surrounded by a lot of negative opinions, especially about something you enjoy, you can speak up if comfortable, but if not, simply stop following/interacting. I cull my following lists regularly, and a lot of times remove people who tend to be negative about things too often for my taste. Their blog/timeline/whatever but I don’t have to interact with it. If I find my enjoyment of a thing souring, I ask myself if it’s due to the actual story/characters/how the creators act, or if it’s due to the corner of fandom I’m in and if I have to clean up and then see how I feel about the thing.

Don't assume the worst of people. I often make myself stop and reread what someone said, slowly and even out loud if I must, to make sure I understood. Go back some posts/threads/pages for context if needed. Some people are just bad at communicating. They may be ignorant of even the most basic of modern social manners, internet etiquette, and so on. English may not be their first language. I tend to assume unintentional oopses until someone makes it crystal clear they mean harm--it's generally easy to tell. Let things roll off your back; they don't know you, really, just the persona you present online. You don't know them and their issues, either, just what little you see. It's usually not worth the hassle and heartache to do more than eye-roll and move on with life.

Others won’t censor/remove everything you personally find a squick or trigger, but do advocate for proper tags, warnings, and hiding the content. Learn to skip past the crap you dislike to find the things you do; you do not have to read or view or comment or like everything. There's only so many hours in a day, and not everything is your taste.

My personal annoyance usually come from how people who engage with questionable content react to other fans being upset, especially when they didn’t take the proper precautions to warn/hide their content based on the site. Anyone who then revels in their “problematic” status and starts making their dark content “to spite antis” has lost sight of why they wanted to make that content to begin with and are acting like brats, IMO. Especially a waste when it can be well written/drawn, even if out of my own comfort area. Don’t do things for spite if you can help it; sometimes it leads to interesting things, but a lot of times, it ends up hollow and a regret down the road.

There’s likely more to this, but these are some general rules I’ve been trying to follow as I get older and realize a lot of time and emotional labor over fiction isn’t worth stress and negativity, but should be relaxing and fun, as the real world is difficult enough. Have fun and make things fun and positive for others when possible, don’t tear others down for the sake of it. Fandom is meant to be a shared interest and love of a thing, after all.

[cyberdva]

take me home- b.c.

Summary: Staying with Stray Kids over the holidays via the first-hand invitation from Chan sounded like the perfect vision. When New Years’ roles around tension grew, in the coming days you’d have to leave and someone needed to confess the secret scratching at his core for years on end. With a little plan from your best friend’s bandmates, this new year would be one to remember forever.

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Anxiety, and a Makeout Scene

Word Count: 2.3k

Stray Kids Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: (Gender Neutral Reader!!)  hey everyone! it’s sort of a tradition for me to write a short little fic for new years. this time i chose to write about chan since he’s turned my life around and brought so much positive change into my life. i’m forever grateful to him and stray kids. thank you for reading all of my sappy drama. life is going to get better!

Being away from the same place you’d called home for the past who knows long felt strange. Don’t get me wrong, it was a major relief to be able to roam around a different area after the entire world was basically held captive in their own minds for the better. Having a second family in the form of an idol group, led by the most talented person you could think of, gave an excuse to seek refuge in their dorms, but this time they nearly begged for your presence for just a few days. Listening to Felix and Seungmin plead over the phone, ironic desperation laced in their tone, for a month and a half took a white flag waving on your behalf. Putting eight celebrities, and countless others, in the possibility of danger was the glue holding you back. Nights of pondering aimlessly always led to the same conclusion. Staying and going was a bitter conflict. Flabbergasted by all the trouble you got yourself into, the thought of leaving was a knee-jerk reaction. Either Felix and Seungmin got their way or the other way around, and if an agreement couldn’t be reached a full-on melancholy would forge in its place.

“Y/N…” Chan’s voice faded in and out with vigor, a perfect speech was freshly prepped in his mind wanting nothing but to have you here with him next week, “I have a question. You have to listen to the whole thing until you answer, okay?” His teeth grazed a chunk of flesh dragging in backwards in anticipation. 

“I’ll come visit.” There was a cold breeze, lacing the darkness with foreign excitement, a feeling you had last had back in freshman year when Chris came home to visit you  Training was the main priority for him, his young mind opened up the new group his company yearned to produce. Either lead a normal childhood or give the future its star-studded path. It hurt to see him go, more than anything had before, but when your bedroom door slowly creaked open it was worth the wait. Chan still remembers how you hugged him, tightly with so much emotion, it made him come to terms with the feeling brewing in his own mind. Truly cliché, but the way butterflies bubbled in his stomach and hands shook like leaves on a palm tree stuck in a brawny gust gave him desires which laid discrete too prolonged. Your response ignited that same lust, Chan’s voice hitched in between the words collapsing from his delicate lips. It brought a stunted tint to your cheeks, a rare occurrence in general. 

The man’s eyes fluttered in amazement, “Y-You’re serious, not joking right?” Fingertips grazed the dew buttons nearing the edge of his phone, mimicking his posture at the moment.

“Do I not sound serious?” A puff of humor fell from your mouth, “Just make sure I don’t regret it, I’ll text you tomorrow Chrissy.” Left in his own bewilderment, it only had now begun to register the weight of the situation. His only lover, one-sided in his wit, of a near lifetime, was coming just for him, and his annoying ‘children.’ 

“I fucking hate that nickname.” 

“Are you even old enough to have alcohol?” Buzzing with anticipation, the young woman dashed past an elated Minho forcefully dancing with Hyunjin, who looked about to pass out from drained practice from earlier on. Your hands clutched onto a champagne bottle, it still has a hint of frost to the touch. Jeongin flashed her a pout and gave swift retaliation, “It’s not for me! Hannie told me to open it for all of us!” His long fingers snatched it right back into his possession. 

Changbin laid motionless on the couch, "It’s five minutes until midnight! Seungmin could you go grab Chan, I have no clue where he is.” A nod came from the other man, his footsteps faded in a quick manner. The aura swelled cheer through every inch of your body, it has been so long since you’d last experienced such an amazing weekend with the ardent people. Something did feel off, and everyone noticed. Chan just wasn’t as sociable, his time was mostly spent scrambling on his phone or just in utter silence. 

An abnormal amount of time passed and Seungmin was nowhere to be found. Your legs cracked a bit as you stood up, your mission was to now find that man-child if it was the last thing you did. Nerves jittered across your arms and wrists, it lingered in the small crevasses between tight joints. You were in love with Christopher Bang and this moment was the same as any other with him, but that sentence never fully processed in your mind. Instead doubts about confessions replayed constantly, it was an anxiety pressed down to the base of your concerns, yet it still bobbed for attention every now and again. 

“You alright?” Placing your body against the hard doorframe of Chan’s room wasn’t the brightest idea. A hard chunk of metal pressed directly into your thigh making this conversation more awkward to begin with. Chris was at a small wooden desk, still working his creativity to death, even during a celebration. His large, slick headphones fortunately didn’t block out the sound of your tender voice. It came as a surprise to him, normally Chan wasn’t this jumpy. Even a small amount of embarrassment tainted the normally confident persona of himself. He quickly spun around and tilted his head in recognition, silently motioning you to speak. 

Moving from the uncomfortable stance you continued, "You’ve been acting really weird lately. You know you can talk to me about anything. I’ll always be here for you no matter what.” Scanning his face for any reaction probably made things a bit worse, his posture caved in on itself and you couldn’t help feeling bad for possibly brining up something he clearly didn’t want to talk about. For the one moment he looked up at you it brought pang of guilt over your chest. 

A sigh escaped you unconsciously, “Sorry if I made you upset or anything, I’ll let you work some more, but at least get some rest later.” Chan shook his hands in retaliation as you spoke, slowly getting up from his seat as he did.

“I don’t know how to say this,” his eyes darted every which way except for you, “I should’ve told you a lot earlier and I regret not doing that and shit, but just listen to me.” You slowly bobbed your head up in down in a confused likeness. He radiated uneasiness in an odd, eager way. The silence between each sentence ate away at your mind. 

He reached out for your wrist, slowly moving it up waiting for consent, “Y/N, we’ve known each other for a really long time and ever since second grade I’ve…” he stopped. Now your agitation grew, what was he even talking about? His breathing staggered, “I’ve had like the biggest crush on you.” Did I just hear that right? A wave of panic took control over the two of you.Still yet to response, and react fot that matter, to what Chan said it made him start to plung into some sort of hysteria. 

Finally words pieced themselves together, “You’re in love with me?” He nodded, “Why didn’t you say anything.” When Chris would say he was shy you never thought it was to that extent. Imagining how hard that must’ve been to conceal wasn’t that difficult, your feeling for the man definitely were the exact same. Back in high school all your friends would be graced to hear your stories about how Chan is so hot, how much you miss him, how you’re going to marry him, and more and more. It was tough to never see him in person, it stung when you would call him in the rare date he was allowed to. 

“I like you too, ever since first grade for me.” His spirit turned into the complete opposite of before, now with a crimson shade of disbelief painted across his lug, “Your ears are red.” You laughed, his hands reached to tuck his hair back over the spectacle. 

“What do we do now?” The question floated in the air with the intensity of the conversation peeling away. Neither adult fully understood what was happening. The importance of their relationship crumbled away with small banter and painful jokes.

A bright idea formulated in your mind, “We could kiss.” Chris blankly took in what you said and graced a devious smile, “I like that idea.” Chan grabbed your waist and snatched you closer to his body, which was strangely warm. Not like you were complaining. Brushing a few obscure hairs away from your face he peered extensively at your stunning features, taking them all in. It wasn't long until Chan smashed his lips into your own and you eagerly returned the kiss.

For the next few minutes the two were engulfed in a kiss, making the whole room sway and trip over its own feet. Your grip on him became tighter and you locked your fingers together at his back, making sure you wouldn't lose him. After a few more minutes Chan began to push his lips to your neck, making sure to explore every inch of your skin with his tongue. You giggled and clutched him closer. Your lips caressed his chin and his neck, kissing every inch of them and playing with his eyelashes. Chan opened his mouth to kiss your neck but you put a finger on his lips, but he kept going. You heard footsteps coming closer even with the small noises coming from the older one. 

“I found him…” Seungmin walked right through the open door and adjusted to the scene in front of him, “Ew!” his face contorted into a disgusted look, “I found Y/N too.” Now that your expected make out session was confirmed, the rest of the boys peaked down the hallway with oddly happy faces. Chan was beet-red and began muttering quick apologies under his breath. Adorning a beaming smile you took his hand and guided Chan back to the rest of the group, “You talk too much, but that’s why I love you.” 

“Love me? Well, um I love you too.. I have for a really long time.” Your heart swelled from his cumbersome behavior, he really never changed much from his youth. With that said your cheeks flushed and a broad smile spread across your face, as your entire body flushed from head to toe. The boy had a way of making your cheeks do a very special kind of glow. With only a minute and a half on the clock it was awfully laid back. Normally people go all out on New Years, but everyone just wanted this one to end as quickly as possible. Spaced away from his large crew you noticed that there was a rather large difference in Chan’s mind and the way he acted. In front of his members there was a much more dominant manner to his actions. He really cared about them, luck was the only way to describe how you felt about knowing him so personally. 

Felix was the most thrilled of the bunch, "Twenty seconds left!” He bounced up and down with his grin growing wider than before. Whenever Felix was around the atmosphere automatically lit up. He just has that special feeling to him. While you flashed backed into your mind thinking about random anomalies Chan was gazing at you with piercing eyes and when you threw a glance back at him, he stayed still. Out of the blue, grabbing your hands and holding it tight.

“Ten!” This didn’t feel wrong, nor right, never in a million years did you think your childhood best friend would keep the same feelings for you tucked away. Trying to fill that void with one night stands, relationships that never ended well, and even distancing yourself from Chris wasn’t ever the answer you thought it was.

“Nine!” He was hidden in plain sight, could you be labeled the fool in all of this? Really Chris could too, it took so long to face the truth.”

“Eight!” Putting his career on the line is the next discussion, if fans or media found out about the two of you his contract could be terminated. The hate he faces already is too much, you would never want to hurt him.

“Seven!” The harmonic combination of everyone’s chants was relaxing, calming the storm of thousands of ‘What if..’ questions piling from your brain.

“Can I kiss you?” Chris was now right by your ear, burning straight into your sight. You jerked your body back in reflex, not expecting him to be so close.

“Six!” 

“What do you mean?” It was obvious, your mind felt as if it was short circuiting. This was not the first idea that popped into your head when you decided to come visit.

“Five!”

“Yes or no, hurry up.” From the tone of his voice you could tell he was dead serious. Time was running out.

“Four! Three!”

“Uh sure..” You swore a small sparkle in his eyes glistened at the response, his entire face lighting up. 

“Two!” Chris leaned closer, grabbing your chin delicately. His finger stroked the sides of your chin as his lips filled the gap and connected with yours. His lips were firm but soft and somehow you felt safe in his embrace. The kiss was soft and feather light. It lasted for maybe a couple of seconds before Chris pulled back. Your lips were still slightly swollen and her lips felt like they were on fire. You breathed slowly and opened your eyes to find him gazing at you.

"That was... good," you said a bit dazed.

He gave you a half-grin. "You're a natural." Your face broke out into a full smile still trying to wrap your head around all of this. 

“Do you mind?” Did everyone see that? Slowly your head turned to face the apparent audience all giving different reactions.”

“Minho, why don’t you kiss me like that?”

“Shut up Jisung.” Maybe this year won’t be so bad after all. 

-

-

-

“One day i’m going to marry you!”

“Chris were only like twelve, you’re going to find someone a lot better one day.”

“I don’t think i’ll ever find anyone as perfect as you.”

“Stop it!”

“I’m serious! I love you Y/N! Forever!”

“Love you too Chrissy, hurry up before we’re late for your swim practice!”

cyberdva 2021

[sapphos-poets]

enough (m!mc x f!blaine)

Credit to @i-cant-think-of-a-name-15 for the prompt idea! I had lots of fun with this, I hope you like it :)

Pairing: M!MC (Kennedy Monroe) x F!Blaine Hayes 

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: board game night shenanigans with a sprinkle of pining and angst! also slightly crack-ish. 

"Boardgames," Blaine deadpans. "Seriously? You promised me fun, Rutherland."

"This is fun," Dionne insists. She's sitting with her legs pulled up on the couch, fingers wrapped around a steaming mug of tea, dressed in silk pyjamas. Peter's awkwardly perched next to her, hands clasped in his lap.

Kennedy looks from Dionne to the stack of boardgames on the coffee table in front of him, to Blaine standing in the doorway. He told her to show up at his and Dionne's suite in the evening in comfy clothes for a night-in to celebrate finishing their end-of-term exams. He hadn't specified what they would be doing exactly, but he'd hoped for the best.

And now, she did show up. In a too-large full sleeved top and leggings. That she looks adorable in. It isn’t helping Kennedy's blood pressure.

He clears his throat. "Blaine, come on. We're celebrating!"

She sighs and closes the door to the suite behind her, crossing the room to sit at the other end of the table, opposite Kennedy. Her eyes flick to his for a moment, and then back to Dionne's. "So, what are we playing?"

Kennedy shuffles through the stack on the table in front of him. "Whatever you want."

"There's also a bottle of champagne I've wanted to open since forever," Dionne adds, nodding to the bottle she placed before the couch earlier.

"Fine." Blaine surveys the stack. "How about that one?"

____________________________________________

"Peter.

How?

"

All four of them gaze down at the Jenga tower that's barely holding together. It had already been on the verge of collapsing before, but Peter had managed to somehow wrangle a piece out without upsetting the tower.

Peter shrugs, his discomfort obvious. Dionne gives him an appreciative glance that has him looking away in self-consciousness. "This isn't going to be fun for the next player." She looks to Kennedy, who's staring nervously at the teetering blocks.

"Come on, Rutherland," Blaine smirks, leaning back on her hands. She'd put her hair up in a bun, the loose strands now framing her face. "Don't tell me that you're scared of a board game."

Kennedy squares his shoulders, determination crossing over his features. It's just a board game, it would be fine. And he can't give in to Blaine's teasing. His hand hovers over the tower as he scrutinises it for the safest block to remove. Finally, he selects one and gently pries it out.

The resulting crash is loud enough to tear a little shriek out of him, which sends Blaine doubling over in laughter.

"P-R-E-O-C-C-U-P-I-E-D. That to your P-I-E, and the double word score, gives me 26 points, right?" Dionne glances up from where her pen is poised over the notepad.

Three disbelieving stares gape back at her. Blaine's frozen with a drink halfway to her mouth, Kennedy appears exhausted, and Peter looks like he can’t decide between impressed and amused.

"What?" she says, bending over the notebook again. "I had to be well versed in classic literature and poetry. Part of being a princess."

____________________________________________

"Left hand, red."

"Seriously? Red, again?"

"Yep."

Kennedy suppresses a sigh and looks around the mat. The closet circle is right next to the one Blaine has occupied, which would put him right beside her. On second thought, this was a terrible idea.

As he struggles to manoeuvre himself into the free spot, Blaine calls out to him, "Give up, Rutherland."

"Never, Ardona," he scoffs, settling into his new position. As he glances back at Dionne to ask for the next instruction, she jumps up. "Crap, my phone died—I need to plug it in. Come with me, Peter?"

Great. He doesn't know how long he can hold on in this awkward pose. His arms are already quivering. Blaine smirks from beside him. "Just let go, Rutherland."

He ignores her, focusing on keeping steady. And then, as if he doesn't have enough to worry about, she leans in. He tenses, feeling the warmth of her body. Just her proximity is enough to send his heart-rate into a frenzy. "Blaine," he warns.

She doesn't listen, moving closer. He catches a faint whiff of her soap—she must have showered earlier—now familiar and comforting. It's intoxicating, with the promise of more. With effort, he brings his head back to the game. Just as he opens his mouth to tell her off, he feels a gentle brush of lips on the exposed skin of his neck.

The gesture is the final push. His arms buckle and he collapses onto the mat. From the corner of his eye, he sees her stand and stretch. "Good game, Rutherland," she says.

"Good game?" Kennedy flips around onto his back, the strain of the game combined with the kiss leaving him breathless. She's grinning at him. "You cheated!" he complains, though he can't bring himself to be angry as he takes in the glee on her face.

"It's all in good fun," she responds. She hops onto and sprawls across the couch just as Dionne returns. "Okay, I'm done," Blaine announces.

Kennedy flops down beside her; playing Twister had tired him out more than he thought—which had nothing to do with Blaine of course. Dionne looks at them with disappointment. "I expected more drama from you two."

Their heads snap to her. "What are we, your entertainment?" asks Blaine.

"I did tell you my love life is pretty dry right now," Dionne shrugs, unrepentant as she takes a sip from her champagne glass. Kennedy's just glad Peter hadn't returned yet so he couldn't hear that; it isn’t that hard to see that there’s something between them.

He meets Blaine's eyes and looks away just as swiftly. The technicalities of whatever was going in between them was not something they wanted to hash out today. Not missing the exchange between them, Dionne hides a smile.

"How about a movie?" She grabs the remote. "There's a Pavadenian classic airing now." She finds the channel in response to assenting hums and settles back on the couch.

____________________________________________

"Is that a good idea?" Peter asks, his eyes on Dionne's champagne glass.

"Peter, we're celebrating," Dionne emphasises, her words slurring slightly. Kennedy isn't sure how many times he's heard that by now.

Blaine chuckles, amused. "He means the fact that you're on your third glass."

Dionne blinks slowly at her. "So?"

As she tries to focus on the television screen, Kennedy makes a point to grab the bottle and stash it away.

Kennedy looks down at the couch where Peter and Dionne have fallen asleep cuddled up next to each other. They look too comfortable to disturb, and rousing them would mean that the night would end. Which would mean Blaine would leave. And Kennedy doesn't want Blaine to leave just yet.

"Should we wake them?" Blaine asks, coming up beside him. Kennedy glances at the clock on the mantel—it's almost midnight. They hadn't meant to celebrate this long, and he definitely hadn't planned for two of their group to fall asleep on the couch.

He shakes his head and drapes the spare blanket over them.

"I guess I should get going then," Blaine says. Kennedy takes her in. Her hair's mostly come out of its bun and her clothes are rumpled. Her eyes are tired—no doubt because of the stress of exams but also from the late night—but bright. He doesn't want her to leave.

"No," Kennedy says, surprising himself. "Stay."

Blaine's shoulders sag. Kennedy wonders if it's too much to hope that she was waiting for him to ask her to stay. He flicks off the light and opens the door to his room, nodding at her. She gets the hint and trails after him.

Kennedy flops down onto his bed and watches Blaine, her cautiously curious gaze roaming the room as she perches on his chair at his desk. He almost wants to invite her to sit beside him, but squashes the idea, deeming it too forward.

"So," he begins, "did you have fun?"

Her eyes snap to his, startled before a slow smirk spreads across her face. "I did, actually. Who knew you'd know how to have fun?"

"Hey," he grins. Talking with Blaine is effortless somehow. They click, and he feels that he can open up to her. It helps that Blaine is an open book. "I do know how to have fun. You'd know that if you spent more time with me." Immediately, he wonders why he said that. His mom doesn't make it easy, but they do spend time together—a lot actually. Somehow, it never is enough for him.

He can't deny it anymore: he likes her. But the timing can't be worse, and so he's been keeping it buried, though he can't help his feelings and the consequent longing glances and stomach butterflies. Dionne argues that this is a terrible idea, but he knows he has to prioritise his mother's reelection campaign.

Blaine leans forward, that smirk still gracing her face, and Kennedy’s heart speeds up. "Don't we hang out enough?" she asks. "You really can't get enough of me, can you?"

No.

But she doesn't wait for his answer, turning back around to his desk and fiddling with a pen. Then, her shoulders begin to tremble, and a mixture of panic and dread creeps over Kennedy. Is she crying? Or possibly laughing? But unless she's lost it, there's nothing to laugh at.

Maybe she did want to leave then, Kennedy thinks miserably, and she felt obligated to stay when I asked. He gathers his courage and asks, "Are you okay?"

"What? Yeah, I'm fine."

"Then... why are you shaking?"

She whirls around so fast that it startles Kennedy, before pulling her legs up and hugging them. She's still shivering as she speaks in an indignant voice, "Your room is freezing."

Caught off guard and slightly alarmed, Kennedy stares at her for a second before letting out a laugh. "That's it? I thought—" He decides not to complete that sentence in order to maintain his dignity and instead gets up to rummage through his closet. He pulls out a clean hoodie and tosses it to Blaine. "Here."

She regards the clothing for a moment before tugging it on. It's big on her, like the top she's wearing, and Kennedy ignores how his heart flips at the sight. Not dwelling on it too much, he decides to take the leap and pats the bed next to him. "Come here."

Shoving her hands in the pocket, Blaine eyes the spot before crawling into the bed beside him and leaning her head on his shoulder. Kennedy tries not to tense in surprise and relaxes into it, hesitating before sliding an arm around her. To his insurmountable relief, she snuggles closer.

They settle into easy conversation late into the night, until Blaine's speech starts to slow and her eyelids begin to droop, and she falls asleep with her head on his lap. Blinking back his own sleepiness, he smoothes back her hair and smiles down at her.

They may not be able to be together, but he could treasure these moments that only he is allowed to see—and just maybe, that would be enough.

[viking-raider]

Silver and Magic - Chapter 9

Summary: You and Geralt investigate the catacombs in Dilosmund for the Dragon Head key. But, you don’t leave the Catacombs the same person you went in as.

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia/Reader

Word Count: 3,703

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Rating: M - Cursing 

Inspiration: What the dragon’s head necklace looks like (x) This is sorta what I picture reader’s sword to look like (x) and how I picture the reader’s eyes (x)

Author’s Note: I’m pulling shit out of my muse’s ass for this chapter, and probably future ones. Tell me what you think!

Tag List: @jennylovelyheart, @peakygroupie​, @jessevans, @rosie-loves-things, @ohjules, @mary-ann84, @omgkatinka, @the-freak-cassie-131, @heelsamizayn, @agniavateira, @cap-barnes, @romyr4, @michelehansel, @katiebriggs004-blog, @badassbaker, @mrsaugustwalker, @authentic-bish-face, @rizeandvibe, @severuined, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @bellastellaluna, @wondersofdreaming​, @thisisntmyrightera​, @michelle-1185, @winchwm, @royallylazy​, @sofiebstar​, @worldicreate​, @agniavateira​, @fantasygirlsuniverse​, @witches-of-discovery-a​, @xuxszx​, @ayamenimthiriel​, @keiva1000​, @klaine-92​, @itsreigns​, @constip8merm8​, @scorpionchild81​, @mylifefallingupthestairs​, @onlyhenrys​, @luclittlepond​, @ellixthea​, @lebguardians​, @geralt-yennefer-jeskier​, @cherrybloomn​, @p3nny4urth0ught5​, @iloveyouyen​, @hollydaisy23​

Despite being abandoned for so long, the Dilosmund catacombs were still in reasonable shape, especially compared to Midmaw's. You followed behind Geralt, glancing at the artwork decorating the walls, some were carvings in the natural limestone, others were made out of the bones of the dead.

“Do you have any clue, where in this place, we're supposed to be looking for the necklace?” Geralt asked you over his shoulder.

“Sadly, no.” You sighed, stopping to examine one of the open corpses, and saw nothing. “But, if the Dragary revered their mine supervisors so much, that they only entrusted them with the keys, then they'll more than likely be buried in the wealthier section of the Catacombs.” You explained. “That's if they're anything like how other societies that bury their dead.” You added, sounding a bit skeptical.

“And how do we identify that?” Geralt asked, stopping and turning sideways to look at you.

“Well,” You pressed your lips together. “In Kovir, for instance, they bury their dead in open marble caskets. Cintra buries theirs in Quartzite, and Nilfgaard buries theirs in red Sandstone. All based on what the precious stone is, in their region.”

“What stone would that be for the Dragary?” Geralt pondered, glancing around.

“Limestone.” You said, touching the wall beside you. “and Granite.” You added, picking a small chunk of it off the floor, at your feet, and showed it to him.

“So, we're looking for a level that's largely Limestone and Granite.” He said, letting out a hard breath.

“Yep.” You nodded, rubbing your face.

You and Geralt carried on into the bowels and recesses of the catacombs, stopping to check every coffin or corpse that seemed of interest, but had still found nothing of promise. Going deeper, you hit a snag, when you found a large Granite slab, blocking the doorway into the lower levels. Geralt made you take several steps back, then used his Aard to break it down, the noise thundering through the narrow hallway, spewing dust and rock everywhere. Smirking and rolling your eyes at him, you stepped through the opening and took several steps, before slipping down a steep decline, and splashing into a stagnate body of water.

“Ugh, fucking fabulous.” You grunted and stood up, the water reaching your knees. “Watch the way down!” You called up to Geralt. “Aine.” You whispered, illuminating the room and saw that the walkway had collapsed at some point.

“You all right?” Geralt asked, carefully coming down.

“Other than being drenched in foul dead people water, I'm great.” You deadpanned, making Geralt smirk.

“Seems an aquifer burst through the wall over there.” He pointed to the crumbled section of wall to the left.

“That's comforting.” You replied and trudged through the water, the small orb of light you summoned follow you, over the surface of the water. “I think, we're close.” You called out to him, seeing damaged coffins made of rough stone, limestone and granite.

You searched the open coffins, while Geralt pushed open the lids of the closed ones. You moved to a room adjacent, the water going up to your mid thighs, as you moved through it and started searching through the coffins in there. The lid of one coffin was pushed almost sideways, and you peaked inside, catching the flickering glint of metal from your weakening orb of light. You squeezed your hand into the small gap and grabbed it, your fingers closed around it, feeling the outline of it.

“Geralt, I got it!” You yelled out to him, trying to tug the braided leather strap free. “Shit!” You barked, feeling something inside of the coffin grasp your wrist.

“Y/n?” Geralt's voice echoed back to you, the quick splashing of him moving as fast as he could to reach you.

“Something has my fucking hand!” You told him, struggling against it.

Geralt hadn't made it halfway to you, when a, nails on a chalkboard, wail reverberated through the air, making your vision swim and your skull feel like it was being crushed. The Wolf medallion swaying around your neck started to really vibrate on its chain. You looked up at Geralt with wide eyes, both of you silently communicating with each other. Wraith. He waded the rest of the way to you, planted his hands on the lid of the coffin and pushed it open more, allowing the reanimated corpse to sit up some. Geralt wasted no time, as another of the Wraith's screams reached you, closer this time, grabbing the corpse's head and twisting it around so far, it ripped off, making it go slack and dropped back to the bottom of the coffin. With it's head gone, it was easier for you to removed the necklace and pry its mummified hand from around your wrist. You dropped the necklace around your neck and twisted around, just as the Wraith breezed into the room, floating over the surface of the water, making it gently ripple.

“Shall we leave before we become the next set of corpses in this place?” You asked, eyes never leaving Wraith's.

“It would be rather nice.” Geralt agreed, his stance already in anticipation of a fight.

“One portal to the surface, at your service, Sir Witcher.” You said and grabbed a hold of Geralt's arm, focusing, and portalled you both out of the catacombs. “Undead and Wraiths, how exciting.” You panted, out of breath from your Magic use.

“Just another day as Witcher.” Geralt retorted, tugging his boots off and draining the water out of them. “You get use to it.” He added, giving you a playful smirk.

“I'm sure.” You chuckled back, removing the necklace from around your neck. “At least, we found what we were looking for.” You said, holding the necklace out to Geralt.

He took the necklace from you and examined it. “It always amazes me, how the smallest and simplest of things, cause the greatest of problems.” He said, weighing it in the palm of his hand.

“Well, the smallest of thing can throw off the whole balance of the world, especially if it's the right type of small thing.” You concurred, taking it back from him and putting it back around your neck. “Now, where did I port us too?” You sighed, looking around for anything familiar that could distinguish where you and Geralt were.

Geralt glanced around, then let out a loud whistle, and a minute or two later, Roach appeared to the east of you. “Not far, it would seem.” He said, grabbing the Bay's reins.

“That's convenient.” You laughed, getting up on Roach behind him.

“I've lost sight of my horses more than once, in my lifetime.” He replied, turning Roach the way she approached. “So, I make a point to teach each of them to come to me with a whistle. Though, it only works if they're close enough to hear it.” He added.

“I should teach Shadow that.” You said, resting forward against Geralt's back. “I don't really lose sight of him, but sometimes the little cur runs off.”

“He spook easy?” Geralt asked.

“No, he's just a drama queen.” You huffed, amused. “He can stand and behave as if a monster isn't right next to him, but the second he thinks something is going to get that luxurious coat of his dirty, he'll run right off; complaining and protesting the whole time.”

Geralt laughed, shaking his head. “Roach doesn't much care for being bothered with such trivial things herself. But, Shadow is a Friesian horse, so it doesn't surprise me, he gets upset about his looks. Though, Shadow is still a very friendly and stoic.”

“I am aware, the two of you get on rather well.” You smiled at him over his shoulder, you'd caught the Witcher more than once admiring Shadow and talking to him, sneaking him an apple or two. “I'm surprised Roach isn't jealous.”

“Oh, she's made her disapproval of it known, many times.” Geralt laughed, patting the side of Roach's neck. “It's getting a bit dark.” He said, looking up at the sky. “We'll keep on for a while, then make camp.”

“All right.” You nodded, resting your cheek against the back of his shoulder.

You traveled for an hour, before dismounting Roach and making camp. Geralt build a fire and you pulled out the bit of food you had packed for the journey, then unrolled a blanket and spread it over the ground, giving you and Geralt somewhere comfortable and clean to sleep. For whatever reason, you couldn't keep yourself from touching the dragon's head as it rested against the fabric of your shirt, like touching it gave you some kind of reassurance, feeling drawn to it. But, you fell asleep spooned into Geralt, enveloped by the intense heat of his big body, blanketing you against the chilled winter air. Geralt woke with a loud snort from Roach, the Bay stomping and pawing at the frozen ground. He rolled onto his back, but didn't see you on the blanket beside him and sat up, scanning the surrounding area. He caught a glimpse of your white shirt and got up to follow you, confused on what you were doing. You walked through the trees, like a beautiful ghost, unaware of Geralt's presence following close behind you, and stopped suddenly, just before you stepped off the edge of a very steep cliff.

“Y/n?” Geralt called your name, softly, not wanting to startle you and have you fall, frowning as he heard you speaking in some strange language. “Y/n.” He repeated your name, stepping closer to you and carefully grabbing the back of your arm and pulling you away from the edge. “What's going on with you?” He asked, turning you around and took a sharp breath, seeing your eyes.

Your normal silver colored eyes had morphed, shining like highly polished silver, but your round pupils were slits, like that of a cat's. He looked down at your hand, seeing it wrapped around the dragon's head pendant and looked back up into your eyes. Your pupils weren't narrow like a cat's, they were narrow like a Dragon's. Geralt yanked the necklace from around your neck and out of your hand, making you waver for a moment and blink rapidly, before your eyes returned to normal and you snapped out of whatever trance or state you were in.

“Geralt?” You frowned, looking around and realizing neither of you were at camp. “What are we doing out here?”

“You were sleepwalking.”Geralt answered. “With this.” He held up the necklace. “You were speaking in some strange language as well, and your eyes and pupils were like a Dragon's.”

“What?” You snapped, stunned and confused.

“There's something about this pendant that changed you.” He said, studying it. “It's quite strange. Would your friend, Aero, know anything about this?” He asked, concerned.

“He might.” You answered, quietly, feeling strange.

“We should see him in the morning.” Geralt replied, lifting a brow at you and pocketed the pendant, he didn't feel easy about giving it back to you, and could plainly see that it bothered you that he didn't. “Come, let's rest some more.” He said, gently taking your hand and leading you back to the bed roll.

You let him guide you back to camp and laid down with him again, bothered by the incident. 

In the morning, you and Geralt traveled to Pont Vanis, and visited Aero at his home.

“Ah!” Aero grinned. “I'm glad to see you taking my advice on not being a stranger, and this must be your Witcher.” He greeted Geralt, warmly.

“I have an issue, Aero.” You told him, getting to the point.

“Oh?” The Elf frowned, tilting his head at you. “What issue would that be?”

“This.” Geralt said, holding up the pendant. “We found it in the Dilosmund Catacomb, where you suggested it could be. But, the issue is, it changed y/n.”

Aero fixed his eyes on you and blinked. “She seems the same to me.”

“Minus the fact, I want to snatch it from him and horde it for myself.” You elaborated, eyes on the dragon's head.

“And it changed her eyes.” Geralt added.

“Changed her eyes, how?”

“They were the same color, but her pupils were slits, like a Dragon's would be.” Geralt explained, letting the Elf take the necklace from him. “She nearly sleep walked off the edge of a cliff, in the process.”

Aero frowned, studying the pendant, then handed it to you. You felt an odd relief getting it back, squeezing your hand around it, hugging it against your chest. It wasn't long afterwards, that your pupils grew incredibly small, like a pinpoint, then extended into a thin line slit, startling Aero. He managed to take it back from you, and your eyes returned to normal.

“Oh, dear.” He mewled, eyes wide.

“What is it?” Geralt demanded, not liking his expression.

“I didn't-It can't be.” Aero mumbled to himself. “But, it has to be.”

“Aero, mumbling.” You snapped, softly.

Aero put up a finger. “I think...No, let me make sure.” He turned on his heels and went upstairs to his library.

“Is that normal?” Geralt asked you, following him up.

“He's a scholar.” You replied, like it answered Geralt's question.

You made it into Aero's study, to find him pushing books and scrolls around his messy desk, pausing long enough, every now and then, to skim through a scroll or flip through a book. It was several minutes until he seemed to find whatever it was he was looking for. He scoured through the book and mumbled more to himself, picked up another book and kept going back and forth between the two. You and Geralt stood impatiently beside his desk, watching him the whole time.

“It is what I feared, well, not feared, per-say.” He finally addressed the two of you. “It's rather thrilling and incredible.”

“That's easy for you to say.” You huffed, shaking your head.

“What did you find?” Geralt added, annoyed.

“It seems, y/n here, is a Dragarian.” Aero, finally, announced.

“What!?” You shouted, resting your palms against his desk. “You said, all of them either died in that dragon attack, or killed themselves! How the hell am I one of them, if that's the case?” You demanded, flabbergasted at the news.

“According to this account.” Aero explained, tapping his finger against the page. “Only a Dragarian, can be affected by this.” He held up the necklace. “It's imbued the Dragarian Magic, magic only the Dragary are capable of, and affected by. Well, Dragary Magic affects anyone, like any normal Magic. But, the type of Magic in this, only affects a Dragarian, the way it affects you. As you can see, Geralt and I can openly hold it in our bare hands, and it doesn't affect us at all. But, the moment you touched it, that change comes over you.”

“Why?” You demanded, feeling dizzy. “Why, does it affect me like that? I get the Magic, but, to that specific affect.”

“There's a myth, legend or fable, what have you. That says, that Dragarians were once actually dragons.” He replied, sitting down. “The story goes; that a male dragon made a deal with Dilos, to be allowed to have a human-like body, after having seen humans and being curious to what it would be like. He kept almost all of his abilities he had as a dragon and went about the Continent, experiencing life as would a human.”

You and Geralt both seated yourselves across from him. “And?” You asked.

“Well, the tale continues.” He continued. “Dragons are known for their hording tendencies, so he horded a large portion of gold, and built a home close to where he originally lived as a Dragon, near the Dragon Mountains. But, as time grew on, he became lonely, and went looking for a mate. He met a female dragon, they fell in love and she asked Dilos to do for her, what he had done for the male, and he granted it for her. They married and established themselves.” He rubbed his chin. “Several other dragons, seeing the life they lived, asked Dilos to change them, and over time the changed Dragons had families and the kingdom of Dragary was created.”

“So, they're the descendants of Dragons.” You summed up, finding it hard to believe, but everything you had been going through lately, it didn't seem as far fetched as it should have. “How does that explain, me being affected, if there aren't supposed to be any left?”

“Well, perhaps the account of them all committing suicide was wrong.” Aero replied, frowning. “Your parents could have been Dragarian, decided to leave the kingdom to live elsewhere, for some reason, so they survived the attack and didn't kill themselves, but they covered up what they were, for whatever reason.” He sighed, looking at you, softly. “or the people you considered your parents, weren't.”

That hit you like a boulder to the chest, either your parents lied to you about your heritage, or they lied to you about your parentage, and you'd never figure out which, since they were both dead. Geralt frowned, worried and sympathetic, resting his hand on your leg.

“So, I'm possibly, the last of my kind.” It felt so beyond strange to say it, then you looked up at Aero. “Do you think this creature could have something to do with the Dragary? It has to have a pendant to get into the mine, it could be affected by it as well.”

“It is possible.” He agreed. “But, whatever it is, its not a humanoid, or at least, it isn't a humanoid any longer.” He clarified.

“So, I'm the descendant of Dragons.” You sighed, shaking your head and sarcastic. “Fucking lovely.”

“It could explain your unique capabilities with Magic.” Aero replied, he'd always found your ability to wield and control Magic strange, many had; it came much more naturally, and almost effortless to you, you could maintain and sustain your Chaos better than nearly every Mage you had met.

“Did the Dragary have their own language?” Geralt asked, still curious about the strange language you'd spoken in, the night before, and was now much more interested in knowing, if that's what you'd been speaking.

“Quite.” Aero nodded, picking up a scroll on his desk and handing it to Geralt.

“Can you read this?” Geralt asked you, unrolling it and handing it to you.

“I doubt it.” You replied, taking it from him and looking it over. At first, it seemed like a bunch of jumbled marks, but they quickly made sense to you, startling you even farther. “The place between then and now; is that now is happening, and then is out of our reach...” You read the top line of it, making Aero's mouth drop open.

“It took me nearly three decades to translate that, and you did it in five seconds.” He said, sounding jealous and surprised, at the same time. “This only reaffirms my belief of your heritage, y/n.”

“How would I not know, I knew this language?” You asked, carefully setting the scroll down at the edge of his desk.

“You could have known it at a much younger age, and as time went by, you used it so little, you consciously forgot about it, but subconsciously you still remember.” Geralt replied, a deep crease between his brows.

“I agree.” Aero nodded.

“I don't know, if I like this.” You sighed, rubbing your face, it was a lot to process.

“Well, it's not like your any different than you have been.” Aero tried to soothe you. “You've just been unaware of your full potential and nature. We all have something inside of us, we are unaware is there, until the right circumstances happen. Trying to defeat this creature, is just yours.”

“So, what do I do?” You asked him, tired. “If I touch the thing, I apparently go all dragonkin about it.”

“I believe, the episode you had last night, was a simple combination of your genetic reaction and being asleep. When you did it downstairs you were perfectly fine, mostly. So, as long as you don't touch it in a sleep state, you'll be able to control it.”

“We don't even know what all of it is.” Geralt pointed out. “We both took it from her, before we could discover the full affect of it.”

“That is also true.” Aero conceded, biting his lip.

“I don't feel like finding out.” You cut Aero off, seeing the expression on his face and in his eyes. “All I need is to turn into a full blown dragon in the middle of Kovir. People can't stand what they don't get already, and a person turning into a Dragon, is the very last thing they'll understand.”

“Again, also true.” the Elf nodded, conflicted. “It's all very new and strange, to be put simply.”

“At least, you two woke up knowing who you are.” You sighed. “I get to fall asleep, wondering who I am.”

“You're still you, y/n.” Geralt told you, squeezing your thigh. “Finding all this out, isn't going to change any of that. People find out about their heritage everyday and are still the same as they were before.”

“I doubt any of them found out they could be related to Dragons, or a society that's supposed to be extinct.” You deadpanned, looking him in the eye. “But, you are still right. I still feel, more or less, myself.” You sighed, leaning back against your chair. “We still need to investigate that mine and learn more about that creature, though.”

“And now that we have the pendant, it'll be a sight easier.” Geralt agreed with you.

[mandadoration]

YOOO, your writing is superb. Amazing work, 11/10, seriously giving me inspiration. Now! I just read raise the stakes and bby, I’m blushing. Really. BUT I’m also a pathetic sucker for fluff and hurt/comfort. Would you be willing to write a fic about the reader getting shot protecting The Child™️ and the ensuing doting-upon by Mando and Cara? The past instance mentioned in raise the stakes? I need that sweet, sweet drama. If you’re not, I get totally get it. Keep writing magnificently.

show your hand

word count: 2, 108

pairing: (established) mandalorian x reader x cara dune

Warnings: swearing, canon typical violence, hurt/comfort

a/n: Anon, I put little descriptions of things that might have happened just so people like you can crave more. Takes place before Raise the Stakes.

Read this on AO3

You’ve been working with the Mandalorian and Cara Dune for long enough to know what their footsteps sound like coming up the ramp to the Razor Crest. Be it rain or shine, good mood or bad mood, you can always tell who it is.

That clunky, unpracticed gait with uneven steps?

Not anyone you know.

The steady beeping of a tracking fob slowly speeding up?

Definite trouble.

You already know that Mando and Cara will scold you for being so careless and leaving the ramp open, but in your defense heat builds up in the ship really easily, and you don’t want to waste fuel keeping the air flow going. You peek out the windows up at the cockpit where you’ve been playing sabaac by yourself to see who it is, and you swear under your breath when you see a bounty hunter making their way up the ramp, and swear once more when you realize your blaster is sitting on the table in the hull downstairs. There’s no other weapons up in the cockpit.

Well, you’ve had experience with improvisation in the past.

You wonder if anyone has finally bought the dented pan from when you sent it through a previous bounty hunter’s face.

From your tool bag, you pull out the largest, heaviest wrench you can find, something meant for the large parts that dealt with hyperdrive, hefting the weight in your hands as you consider exactly how you were going to take the invasive bounty hunter down when you hear a whoosh of a door followed by familiar cooing and babbling.

No time to think. Only act.

Which is why you basically fall down the ladder and launch yourself at the hunter, wrapping your arms around their neck and bashing your wrench at their head, listening to the sickening crunch as you yell as intimidatingly as possible. Which wasn’t very scary at all considering that your voice cracks. The hunter lets out a garbled yell and throws you off, digging their elbow in your ribs, and you just barely manage to catch yourself before you hit your own head against some exposed pipes. Forget baby-proofing the ship. You need it more than the child at this rate. How many times have you almost chipped a tooth trying to use the refresher in the dark?

You scramble onto your hands and knees fast enough that you manage to swing your wrench again at their knee, lunging for the blaster on the table as they go down.

“Bitch!”

Before you can grab the blaster, the bounty hunter wraps a hand around your ankle, talons digging in the soft flesh, causing you to narrowly miss biting your tongue off in favor of hitting your brow bone against the edge of the table, making blood immediately well up and drip into your eyes. The wrench clatters across the ground and far out of your reach. You yelp, and kick them in the face with your other leg, hearing the soft crunch of cartilage as you claw your way out of their reach. There’s adrenaline pumping through your veins now, the combination of danger and fear mixed with sharp twinges of pain. The bounty hunter growls low and deep in their chest, grabbing your boot and yanking you back towards him.

A quick glance at the Child confirms your suspicions that they’re just watching you with interested eyes.

You grit your teeth and flip around so that you’re on your back, sitting up as quick as you can and swinging your fist at their face. Their face is a lot softer than you had initially thought, feeling akin to the skin of overripe fruit when you dig your fingers into them and it bursts, except that the skin of the bounty hunter’s face stays intact and immediately starts to bruise a bright green color. In any other circumstance, you would be completely bewildered, but if they didn’t finish you off, Mando and Cara would if you let the kid get hurt, so you tamp down any fascination with alien biology to slam the heel of your boot into their wrist and pull yourself free of their grip. It takes some effort to coordinate yourself to get your feet under you, head spinning from hitting it earlier, but you whirl around to look at the table where the blaster is.

Rather, where it was, because it isn’t there anymore.

“What the–”

You’re too bewildered and half-dazed to hear the sound of a blaster cocking, and your left leg buckles underneath you as a blaster shot goes clean through your thigh. You almost hit your head again on the edge of the table, and you think there’s blood in your mouth as you stifle a scream. But there’s your blaster, knocked onto the floor under the table, and you fumble for it, turning around and shooting the bounty hunter twice in the chest, and the once more in the head for good measure, sickly yellow blood splattering and pooling under their body before they can properly react. As soon as the last of their fingers finish their twitching, the sharp, hot pain in your thigh swells up and would’ve keeled you over if it weren’t for the fact you were already on the floor. You allow yourself one very loud, “Fuck!” before you drag your body and slam the button to the cot, shutting the door in the child’s face as you let yourself slump down and heave in pained breaths as you think about your next plan of action, head buzzing as the adrenaline starts to wean off. Your hands are shaking as you put the safety back on the blaster and set it aside.

Obviously you would have to call Mando and Cara back from whatever recon they were doing and get their asses back here before you bled out. You hope the blaster shot didn’t hit anything major; there’s a lot of blood. Actually, maybe you should try and stop the bleeding first. Or there might be more hunters and you aren’t in fit enough shape to hold anyone else back, so the sooner Cara and Mando came back, the better. But also the comms were back up in the cockpit, and you aren’t strong enough to drag yourself up a ladder with only your upper body. You really needed to start working out properly. Let’s face it, routine maintenance on the ship wasn’t cutting it. The child is making upset noises from behind the door, and shit, you actually needed to check on them to make sure nothing happened to them in the moments before you had launched yourself at the bounty hunter like some gackle bat. Then again, the button is way too high up, and you are way too tired to even think about moving from where the floor has suddenly become very comfortable.

Actually, sleeping on the ground sounds like the best course of action.

—

The sound of a panicked call of your name brings you up just enough to the surface of consciousness for you to moan a response. Someone lifts you up enough to cradle you in their arms, and the feeling of the bare flesh of a hand on your face lets you know it’s Cara without opening your eyes. She tugs one of your eyes open to check on you, and you frown and try to bat her hand away, but your hand is much too heavy, so you end up burrowing your head into the crook of her arm.  

“‘s too bright,” you slur. “St… stop it.” Cara sharply pats your cheek.

“No,” she orders, “stay awake. Shit, how long were you here for?” You groan when she puts her hand on the blaster shot in your leg, toes curling in pain as tremors run up your leg.

“It hurts,” you moan.

“Good,” she says, tone curt. “I’d be more worried if it didn’t.”

“Shit,” Mando hisses, somewhere above you. Or behind you. You’re not quite sure anymore because it feels like your head is full of cotton and your ears are filled with water. Some shuffling and there’s the steady beeping of a tracking fob again. “Guild member. Someone is still out for the kid.” Cara reaches over you, tugging something free from the body that lies just over a foot away from you, yellow blood oxidized to a muddled green. When you crack your eyes open, there’s a faint sheen of blue on Cara’s face, which is set in a serious expression, before she shows whatever she’s holding up to Mando. You hear Mando huff, and as your eyes slip shut again, the last thing you hear is Cara’s wavering voice.

“The puck isn’t for the kid. It’s for her.”

—

When you come to, you think that death is preferable compared to the wicked headache you have.

It feels like there’s some creature in your head that’s trying to get out, and your brow bone where you’ve cracked it against the table in your tussle isn’t helping with it in the slightest. Your entire body aches, and you think your ribs are bruised from how each breath in makes your wince.

Oh, and your leg. Needless to say, it really kriffing hurts.  

You make a pained noise when you try to sit up, and a figure blocks the light from the foot of the bed.

“No, no,” Cara says, “stay down.” It’s not like you can really move, save tilting your head up to look at her. There’s the slightest bit of space that she can sit down and scoot closer to you, minding your leg as she hands you a cup of water. It’s incredibly awkward. The cot itself barely fit Mando, and you were used to having more space sleeping on your mat on the floor. Still, Cara tilts the cup with utmost care, leaning over your body and cradling your head in her other hand as you take slow sips. Her brows are knotted with worry, and she catches your gaze when you blink up at her sluggishly. You push the cup away.

“What happened?” you ask her. Your voice is still thick with sleep.  

“Bounty hunter,” comes Mando’s voice. He leans against the doorway, if it can even be called that, to the cot. You really wanted to ask Mando if he would consider a more open floor plan considering how suffocated you feel, but the mood isn’t exactly appropriate. “We came back to find you bleeding over the floor.” His voice is tight, and you can see the tenseness of his shoulders despite how hazed you still feel.

“We thought that you were dead,” Cara says softly. She pushes back a strand of hair from your face. You sigh and nuzzle into the palm of her hand.

“Your lack of faith in me is disturbing,” you mumble. “I can handle myself.”

“You call that ‘handling yourself’?” Mando asks dryly, motioning to the bandages wrapped over and over again on your thigh. You can feel the familiar tingle of bacta underneath the aches. You shrug, pulling a face when it jostles your sides.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” you ask him. Then, “he is, right?” Cara nods.

“You did a number on him,” she says, a hint of pride in her voice. You relax.

“And the kid?”

“Asleep,” Mando answers.

“That’s good,” you sigh. “How long until we can get out of here?”

“We’re leaving in a couple of minutes.” You bolt up despite how your head spins and ribs ache.

“I have to do pre-flight checks!” you gasp. Cara puts a firm hand on your chest and pushes you back down with little resistance.

“You,” she says sternly, “are going to stay here and rest while we,” she motions to Mando and herself, “do the pre-flight checks.” You cock an eyebrow.

“When’s the last time you guys ever did a pre-flight check on the ship?” Cara looks at Mando.

“Not since–”

“Not since you hired me,” you point out. “And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve done substantial work since then. Including upgrades and new functions.” Cara has a knowing look on her face, and you’d bet that Mando does too. “You don’t know what half of this ship does anymore.” You put a hand on Cara’s wrist. “Let me do pre-flight checks.”

You know they’d give in. They always do.

Which is why a few moments later Mando and Cara somehow get you up to the cockpit, Mando carrying you there in his arms with a smug look on your face.

You’d come to regret that when you can’t get back down.

—

Forever Tag: @mabelleen @mando-vibes @isaissafail @adikaofmandalore @lavenderl3mons @jokersdoll​ @creamysacrilege​​

Pedro Tag: @mrsparknuts​

[kevin-day-is-bi]

If you’re still doing your prompt requests could you do herongraystairs + 5??? Thank you so much 💖💖

Here you go! I went ahead and answered another ask with this same fic, so @autumnangel20, your ask for numbers 1 and 20 is answered here. 

Warning: This does contain smut. The smut is most probably not very historically accurate, but it’s harder than you’d think to write Victorian praise kinks. This contains some angst, some plot. 

Jem wondered, as he kept eating his toast, what he had done to deserve Will Herondale.

He wondered this often, some days in a 'how had he received this blessing' way and some days in a 'the Angel had it out for him and wanted him to suffer' type of way. 

Today was the first type, though by all usual methods of determination he should have been wondering the second. Will was even more boisterous than usual, rambling about all sorts of nonsense. Charlotte looked like she was regretting every decision that led her up to this moment as Will reenacted what Jem thought was supposed to be Will's own death via duck. 

All Jem could do was stare at Will as he reached one arm towards the sky, other hand pressing to his heart. While Jessamine looked annoyed, Jem was hyper focused on the enticing strip of skin that was Will's collarbone. 

"Oh, Angel above, Will." Charlotte set her fork down with a thunk. "Your toast has hardened, your tea is cold, just sit down and finish your breakfast." 

"I was showing my eventual brutal end at the hands of the ducks," Will said sullenly, as he got up and brushed himself off.

"Ducks don't have hands," Jem muttered, and Will gave him a betrayed look. Jessamine snickered. 

"And if you do not stop harping on about ducks, I shall have you killed before the ducks can." 

'Have him killed', Jem noted, not kill him herself. Jessamine's refusal to be a Shadowhunter had caused Charlotte more annoyance over the last three months than Will's antics, something that put out Will and made Jessamine oddly proud. 

Breakfast finished in silence, with the exception of Jem almost upsetting his tea when Will brushed his hand up high on Jem's thigh. Will gave him a smile with enough of a smirk in it for Jem to know it had not been accidental. 

When Will had left the room, speaking very loudly to an annoyed looking Sophie, Jessamine gave a great sigh. 

“How I wish I did not have to see him quite so often.” 

“Jessamine, be polite,” Charlotte said wearily, taking a slow sip from her tea. 

Jessamine humphed. Jem knew Will could be tiresome, but this knowledge was now slightly diluted by three months worth of memories of Will’s kisses. Instead of the usual exasperation and defence that anyone complaining about Will usually inspired in Jem, Jem felt surprisingly furious. Just because Jessamine was incapable of seeing Will as he truly was did not mean it was Will’s fault. Though Jem knew that it was. 

Jem stood and left the room without saying anything. He made his way back to his bedroom, determined to drown his annoyance in music. Vivaldi was always exceptional at catching Jem up and taking him to a place where there was no drug, no Law, nothing to make Will lash out and drink himself to oblivion. 

When he got to his room, Jem shut the door firmly, blocking out the sound of Will’s boisterous voice from downstairs.

…

Jem drew the bow across the strings slowly, drawing out the note. His hand trembled at the end, causing the note to become sharp. He cursed under his breath, continuing with the song. These last months, the yin fin had affected his strength more and more. His next few notes came out in a rush as he ford his hand to steady. 

Jem’s annoyance at the yin fin only heightened as he remembered Will’s mouth frantic against his own, Will having to initiate everything, them having to stop out of fear of Jem’s exhaustion or falling ill. And oh, Will. Will and his lashing out, Will and his drinking, Will and his pushing everyone away. Will was mercurial, in the exact sense of the world, one moment being kind and loving and gentle the next being all anger and sharp words and shoving Jem away. 

Jem let himself be lost in the music, let it wash away all his fears and worry and annoyance at the yin fen and Will and the Law. The Law, which made it illegal for them to do many of the things they do nearly every day. Jem gritted his teeth as the music slowed. He shut his eyes, trying to turn his thoughts to the music. Vivaldi, he thought. Not Will Herondale, not the Law, not yin fin. 

It almost worked. Peace and near contentment filled him, and he was nearing the end of the song when someone knocked on his door. He sighed through his nose and ceased his playing. 

“Yes?” 

The door opened and Will poked his head in. For all the grief Will had caused Jem, his heart still quickened and he still smiled when he saw Will. 

“That was an extremely melancholy song you were just playing.” 

Jem relaxed his grip on the violin and the hand holding his bow dropped to his side. Will took this as an invitation and strode into the room, collapsing with as much drama as was humanly possible onto Jem’s bed. Jem was momentarily diverted by the image of Will laying on his bed, shirt open and hair mussed, and had to instantly return to the conversation to avoid an unfortunate reaction. 

“I was practicing for your funeral,” He responded, leaning one hip against his desk. “For when the ducks finally get you.” 

Will laughed, and looked as though he was going to say something ridiculous. Instead, he propped himself up on his elbows. 

“James, I know you speak in jest, but I must know. Why were you playing something so very sad?” 

Jem sighed, and Will continued talking. 

“You are not feeling too bad today, I hope.” Will’s bright blue eyes peer up at him in the dimness of the room. 

“No, I am quite fine. Stronger than usual, in fact.”

“Then, you are not-” Will broke off, frowning. “You are not regretting…” 

He gestured vaguely, and Jem straightened. 

“No! No, I do not regret our joining.” Jem stopped, and looked out his window. The curtain was mostly drawn across it, but there was a sliver through which he could see the courtyard, and beyond it, Fleet Street. He remembered first coming to London, how dull and gray everything looked. How he had despised the cold and wet at first, how it had sent him into coughing fits and made him feel worse constantly. And how the tiny black haired boy, so full of acerbic words and vicious wit, had made those first days easier somehow. 

“Come now, Jem, old boy.” Will sprung off the bed. Jem jerked back to the moment and turned to raise an eyebrow at Will. “Come, I will not have you moping around.” 

“I am not moping-” 

Will lept into a fighting stance, fists up, and tossed his glorious black hair out of his eyes. 

“Fight me.” 

“Pardon?” 

“Sparring will take your mind off of what you were just now thinking, whatever it was.” Jem doubted that, seeing as what was largely on his mind was Will, and every time they sparred they ended tangled up together, mouths pressed in desperate, needy motions. Still, Will bobbed on his feet slightly, grinning wickedly. “So…fight me.” 

Jem set down his violin. 

“You just want me to pin you against the wall again.” 

“Last time was a fluke. I shall be pinning you against the wall this time.” 

Jem snorted. “Is that a challenge?” 

Will’s eyes flashed. Jem moved, bringing his arms up to block his face. Nothing had happened whatsoever on any patrols for a month, and Jem was beginning to fill with nervous energy. Normally his illness prohibited such fidgeting, but when he had nothing better to spend his energy on, he found himself aching for a fight. 

They circled each other, Jem determined not to make the first attack. He had almost lost patience when Will jabbed at him, swinging low and fast. With some surprise, Jem jumped back. He blocked the punch, striking at Will’s shoulder with his other hand. Will danced back before the hit could land. 

They continued this way for some time, one of them darting in for a hit then leaping back before one could land on themselves. Finally, Jem managed to catch hold on Will’s loose sleeve and pull him in close. They grappled, both hitting lighter than was strictly necessary. At one point, they toppled onto the bed, wrestling for control. Jem ended up pinning Will, and his feeling of victory was slightly lessened by the sight of Will beneath him, cheeks flushed, hair tousled, eyes bright. 

“It appears you did end up pinning me after all, though not against a wall.” Will’s voice was a little too casual, and his gaze was largely fixed on Jem’s lips. There was so little space between them and Will was breathing hard and then Jem was kissing him, unable to do anything else. 

Will kissed back instantly, body arching under Jem. Jem sat up and yanked his shirt off, unable to even feel the fury he usually did upon seeing his skinny form. All he could think about was getting his lips back on Will’s. He went to place his hands next to Will’s head, but Will placed a hand against his chest. 

“You pinning me was actually quite nice.”

Jem’s surprise melted into satisfaction and he once again placed his hands on Will’s wrists. Will made a soft noise under him as Jem squeezed. Very, very quickly, Jem was intensely dissatisfied with kissing. He transferred his grip to one hand, the other going to unbutton Will’s shirt. He got it undone and lightly pinched one of Will’s nipples, almost as an afterthought. Will made a noise in the back of his throat and his eyes fluttered shut. Interesting, Jem thought, and experimented with placing his mouth where his fingers were. He was rewarded with a little whimper. 

Jem, almost without thinking, brought his now free hand down to unbutton Will’s pants. As he went to shove them down, he stopped. Sat up. Let go of Will’s hands. This was far as they had gone before. Through some unspoken agreement, they had restrained their activities to kissing. Jem met Will’s eyes. Will nodded, then breathed an additional “Oh, yes.” 

Jem slid down the bed, keeping his eyes firmly on Will’s. 

“Tell me when to stop.” Will made a breathless noise of assent and Jem frowned. “William. I’m serious. Tell me when to stop.” 

“I will. I swear on the Angel.” 

With that, Jem pulled Will’s trousers off of him. He was taken aback momentarily. Will was so much larger than he had thought. Will gave him a concerned look but Jem just lowered himself over Will again. One hand caught up Will’s wrists again, and the other began to stroke oh-so-slowly. Will made such delightful noises and Jem wondered why on earth they hadn’t done this before. 

Will’s noises became a little more desperate and Jem pulled back. Will protested, but Jem just spit in his hand. 

“Spread your legs.”

...

Will wailed, fingers spasming under Jem’s grip. Jem thrust in again. Will began to whimper as Jem sped up. Jem braced his hand on Will’s knee, other hand still firmly pinning Will’s wrists to the bed. Will’s cheeks were flushed, and his mouth was open as he panted. 

“You look,” Jem gritted out, in between thrusts. “So gorgeous right now.” 

Will’s eyes snapped open. He looked shocked, and slightly taken aback. Jem experimented again. 

“With your mouth open so wide, you’re just begging to suck on something.” 

Will whimpered, and Jem swore he saw Will’s cock twitch. Jem smiled lightly and made a mental note to keep talking. But first…

He sped up, thrusting in as deep as he could go and squeezing Will’s wrists. Will made soft little noises, feet bracing against the bed. 

“You look so good, all fucked out like this.” 

Will moaned at that, full and unabashed, Jem felt himself racing to the edge fast, so he reached a hand between them and squeezed Will’s cock. Will came instantly, and Jem pulled out and came across Will’s stomach from the feeling of Will’s convulsing around him. Will cried out, back arching and legs spasming wide. 

Jem shoved himself off and rolled to the side. Will took the moment to breathe and stop the trembling in his limbs. Jem chuckled, more a sharp exhale of breath than an actual laugh. They lay next to each other for a moment, catching their breath and laying in the afterglow. 

“You’re really quite good at that.” 

Jem looked over at Will, examining his profile in the firelight. 

“Which bit?” 

Will waved a hand, though the motion was more of a flop than a graceful movement. 

“Just-” Will’s sighed out a breath. “All of it.” 

Jem snorted lightly, rubbing a hand down Will’s arm gently. He had worried that it would be awkward, that there would be fumbling and limbs sticking out and Will pitying Jem’s lack of skills. But the second Jem had gotten Will under him, all that fear had melted away. Hearing Will mumble soft little ‘please’s and ‘oh, Jem’s felt more natural than anything he had ever done in his entire life. 

“Hey, Carstairs?” 

Jem blinked back to the present, smiling at the ‘Carstairs’. 

“Yes?”

“Just to clarify.” There was a little hitch in his voice. “Did we just sleep together?”

...

Hope you liked it :) Sorry it took so long to answer!

[ultrashadowkai]

Avatar: The Last Airbender - The Promise Part 2

One part filler, two parts bad mindsets

Katara and Aang being all love dovey. It's still a little weird but less weird than the pet names

How does Toph sense the ground from on Appa? Could Toph always smell trees and differentiate the trees based on location as opposed to breed? Was that always a thing or did her senses get better with age? 

There's dirt on the bottom of Toph's feet and I love that detail.

If Toph found her calling as a teacher then why did she became police chief of Republic City. The yelling and bossing people around thing makes sense but Toph really doesn't seem like the kind of person to go around enforcing rules that aren't her own. Admittedly, there is a large gap of time between now (13) and Legend of Korra so anything could have happened to turn her into a police chief, but still....

Okay, it being a firebending dojo that had to move as part of the Harmony Restoration Movement makes sense. Kunyo's still a fool for questioning Toph, though

Sokka.... Just Sokka. A match to the sit? I assume he means whoever can knock the other student off their feet and onto their rear first rather than just sitting.

This metalbending school plot feels slightly more like a side episode, not quite a filler because it does involve the affects of the Harmony Restoration Movement but it doesn't feel as politically important

Does the Earth Kingdom palace not have the ability to house guests, especially guests here on diplomatic missions?

Aang has a fan club. Considering how Kyoshi has a state of herself on Kyoshi Island (and an island named after herself) and I do know that Yangchen was regarded in an almost diety-like way in the books that I swear I'll get to someday, this isn't all that surprising. This better not be "The Kyoshi Warriors" all over again.

Katara seems to remember Kyoshi Island rather well. Unfortunately, she will now have to deal with some of the worst aspects of having fans -- the delusional fans who want to date their favorite celebrity and refuses to realize that they have no chance even when said celebrity is already taken.

Aang wants to see something that looks somewhat reminiscent of his culture, and also likes the attention and is just all around a friendly enough guy that he would genuinely love to see their clubhouse. Having said that, don't stay at the houses of strange children when Iroh and the Earth King are right there.

Turtle-crabs are literally just hermit crabs.

"I dove in myself" - Ozai. As opposed to.... Nice to see that Ozai is still a terrible parent. Is the whole family vaguely cryptic on purpose?

Toph's magic metalbending sensing space rock bracelet. Okay. At least it's acknowledged that her students are kinda one off emotional 2d cutouts.

Sokka the Motivationalbender

I like that Katara admits (to herself) that she may have jumped the gun just a little in not seeing any other reason Aang would be excited about his fan club taking him to their clubhouse loosely modelled off of the Western Air Temple to ask questions about his culture and share old relics that seemingly anyone can just buy from a random traveller.

Ozai is trying to spin this as Zuko being so indecisive that it harms him -- and he's right, in a way. Zuko is indecisive; he's had his problem back in Ba Sing Se when he's torn between his honor and his morality. But he also isn't. Not really. He makes a choice; his problem is committing fully to a grey choice. Siding with the Avatar is an objectively good choice; this problem with Yu Dao is a grey one where both sides have a bit of a point (Zuko's moreso). All in all, he should really stop talking to Ozai.

Oh look, combo attacks consisting of different elements, almost like harmony can be achieved despite the differences. I wonder what Yu Dao and similar colonies were doing during the war.

I wasn't going to comment on Kori and Sneers but the conversation is important. Sneers sees her as a member of the Earth Kingdom and is shocked and appalled that she's training with Firebenders despite the fact that they're her cousins. Does he even really acknowledge her Fire Nation heritage? At least Kori doesn't take his attempts to make her choose a side and him leading the protests against Yu Dao. Either he accepts her as she is or they're though.

Moo-Chee-Goo-Chee-La-Poo-Chee the Third is a terrible name. What were his parents and his parents' parents thinking?

Oh...Kuei is exactly as Ozai said (tired of being seen as weak and so overcompensates with military might instead of talking things out with Zuko). I hate when Ozai's right.

Aw, Toph fears that she's being too much like her parents in regards to her students; expecting them to be something their not and getting upset because of it.

Aang's fan club is going to unintentionally cause more problems in Yu Dao

Props to Kunyo for turning that weapon Toph bent around his head that he clearly can't get off into hat. Remove props for "dirt-people" though

Huh, no one ever believed in them. I can see it. A touch cliché but heartwarming nonetheless

[Mai leaving] Well, that was quick. This was probably a longtime coming thing with a lot more build-up offscreen over the year long time skip but still; it feels kinda sudden. I figure Mai's going to be back in the comic or in future comics, not necessarily back with Zuko but back in general otherwise that's kinda a lame way to send Mai off. Mai, Ty Lee, and (I think) Azula are the mainish characters we don't hear what happened to in LoK. At least we know Sokka got into politics and Ty Lee's chi blocking became a widespread thing but we never knew what happened to Mai. Azula can be guessed at seeing as how she was imprisoned or implied to be at the end of the first show. All we have to go on is Izumi's assumed parentage.

Good thing I'm me and don't fall for this relationship drama bullcrap. Suki's with Sokka and that's not changing

When did the Earth Kingdom get war balloons?

Zuko looks like he's wasting away under the stress.

[morallygreyprompts]

Lets get a prompt where the heroes team hands them over to the villain

Ask 95

It may be a coincidence, or you could be the same anon who thought their message hadn’t gotten through. Either way, I shall write another and go with a different vibe.

The other post where Hero was handed over is here

“What do you want?” Leader growled to Villain, bracing for a fight in the grim alleyway.“A favour,” Villain answered, smiling like a cat.Leader paused and raised their chin in the air, “I don’t do favours, least of all for you.”

Villain shrugged and with a patient sigh, they revealed a gun. “Let’s try that again, shall we? I said I want a favour, and if you don’t ask me what it is this time, I’m going to start getting angry.”

Silence, but finally Leader scoffed. “I’ll listen, doesn’t mean I’m going to agree.”“Hand [Hero] over to me.”“No! They came to us to get away from you, I could never betray that trust!” They clenched their fists and tried to think of a way to get that gun out of their hands.

Villain raised the gun towards Leader’s head, cutting off any trail of thought that they had. “No need to shout,” Villain purred, “and you will do as I ask. If you don’t, well, I know who your family is, or I can kill your team with a single order. No one is getting in the way of me and my little turncoat [Hero].”

Leader raised their hands in the air and let their head fall in defeat. That was too big a risk, too tall a threat to just ignore. Hero would probably go with them if they were stood where Leader was, but that didn’t make it any more moral to make that decision for them. Hero trusted them, Leader had saved them from that life. There had to be a way around this, a way to protect them all.

In a desperate attempt, Leader lunged forward and knocked the gun to the side. They tried to fight for control of the gun, but Villain was stronger, faster, and more skilled. They hit Leader in the side of the head with it, stunning them just enough for Villain to get Leader in a headlock and press the gun into the side of the head.

“That was naughty,” Villain smirked, a little out of breath. Leader tried to squirm free but Villain squeezed tighter, cutting off air and blood.

“While you’re here I may as well take precautions,” Villain decided. Leader heard the gun drop to the floor, but Villain used their spare hand to change the headlock into to something more advanced, a guillotine, a far better way of choking them out, and far harder to get out of. 

Leader tried to push their elbow away from their face, to get their head out of Villain’s arm, but Villain just made it even stronger, using the crook of their arm to crush Leader’s neck. The pain was intense, and the need for blood to get to their brain was increasing. They maybe had half a minute, and most of that was already spent. Their struggles were lessening, their legs getting weak as their body began to shut down.

Leader woke up on the floor and gulped for air. Before they could scramble to their feet, Villain pounced on them, sitting on their chest. They watched with their blurred vision as Villain produced a needle gun of sorts. “This might sting,” Villain said casually. Leader couldn’t stop Villain from pinning their head down against the floor and jabbing them with the needle. They felt sick as they felt a tiny microchip enter under the skin.

Villain didn’t move once the task was done. “I’ll explain. That chip is very sensitive. I’m going to give you an earpiece. I’ll be able to hear everything you say, and if I’ll know if you’ve taken it out because of that chip. I’m also going to give you a contact lens too, one that serves as a camera. I will know if you try to tell anyone about our arrangement- isn’t technology amazing?!”

Leader tried in vain to push Villain off, but their balance was too good. “No, I won’t do it!”Villain sighed and shook their head with a soft smile. “Ever the valiant hero. Here’s the thing, [Leader], if you don’t do as I say, that little chip will kill you. And If I have to kill you, I’ll just take another part of your team- or I’ll kill them all and take [Hero] by force. I haven’t decided which. So now you’re going to listen very carefully to my next instructions.”

With their head still clamped against the floor, Leader struggled to hide their frustration as Villain whispered what was evidently their orders into their ear.

_______

Leader met Hero later that day at their favourite cafe. They could only watch in silence as Hero tucked into their last free meal. There wasn’t a way to stop this without greater cost. Maybe they could find a way of rescuing them afterwards, show them that they had no choice in it all.

“Something wrong?” Hero asked, “You’re kinda quiet.”Leader smiled and shook their head. “Headache.”“Probably stress,” Hero guessed, “You work too hard looking after us all.”Leader was going to clench their fist but managed to divert that into tensing their leg muscles, something Hero couldn’t see or really pick up on.

“It can’t be easy for you,” Hero continued, “Since I switched, [Villain]’s been acting worse than ever, and we all know that’s because of me. Did I tell you, I didn’t even work for them, I was just another villain? But they were obsessed with me. I.I’m glad to be rid of that old life; trusting you was the best decision I ever made..”

“I know.” Leader closed their eyes tight and bit their tongue.Hero frowned, “Come on, let’s go home, you look pretty awful.” They shoved the last bit of food into their mouth and stood up to leave.

Into the alley, you know what you need to do. Here’s an idea, pretend to be sick, that’ll lure them in here. I want you to betray them, dear [Leader]. Leave them with nothing!

Leader walked by Hero until they got out of the cafe. They paused, reminding themselves they were saving lives, but a feeling of nausea rose in their stomach. They rushed into the alleyway and was actually sick.

“[Leader]?” Hero asked with concern, approaching them. “Are you sure you’re okay?”Leader let their head rest against the brick. “I’m so sorry,” they whispered.“What?”

Leader turned on them with tears in their eyes, they pushed them into a wall and held them there by their throat, not cutting off their air, but keeping them still.“Nice and simple,” Villain observed from further back in the alley. “I was hoping for a little more drama.”

Hero paled, Leader wanted to look away from their horrified expression, but they weren’t the type to look away from the consequences of their actions. Hero tried to claw their way to freedom. “No! Please! Please, not them! You can’t do this- we’re friends, [Leader]! Why are you doing this?”

Leader had to increase their efforts in restraining them. “If I don’t, everyone dies. I wanted to tell you, I really did.”

Hero kneed Leader between the legs as hard as they would, and they let go, holding themselves in pain. They tried to run, but a shot fired out. With a yelp, Hero crashed into the floor, holding their leg in pain.

“[Hero]!” Leader exclaimed, hurrying to them. But when they knelt beside them, still wincing, Hero pushed them away, kicking at them as best they could.“Get away from me!”

Leader had never felt more powerless in their life. That quickly turned into anger, anger they intended to direct towards Villain, but when they ran at them, their path was blocked by henchmen who quickly overwhelmed them, holding their arms, keeping them on their knees, and making them watch by having a handful of hair. “You didn’t have to hurt them!” Leader bellowed.

Villain approached Hero as they tried to crawl away. Sirens blared in the distance.“Please… leave me alone,” Hero gulped. They couldn’t fight Villain away when they pinned them to the floor, just as they had done to Leader hours beforehand. Just like Leader, they pinned them down and forced a chip into their neck.

“No!”

“Bring the van,” Villain said flatly. “I have what I came for.”“What. what was that?” Hero asked, feeling the lump on their neck.“A means of keeping you both under control. If I give the order now, you die.” Villain turned to look back at Leader. They still fought, still tried to get free, and the expression on their face was murderous.

As a large van reversed into the alley, Villain’s face lit up with an idea.“Thank you for returning my property,” Villain said to Leader. “But it seems a waste of a good chip to let you go now. I think I’ll keep you too, perhaps just as a means of making sure this one behaves.”

Leader roared in anger and tried to break free once again, but the hand on their hair let go and was exchanged with a bat across the head. They crumped into the henchmen’s grip, unconscious.

Villain returned their attention back to Hero, appreciating the tears streaming down their face, the fear in their eyes. They flinched when Villain brought a hand to their chin and held them there. “I’ve missed you… Let’s go home-”“I’m not yours!” they protested but their voice was sticky with upset.

Villain smiled and dragged Hero up to their feet. Hero cried out and almost fell, but Villain scooped them up. “Oh, but you are.”

[tmrmary]

rubbing salt deep in the cut

A two-week account of a witch in need of preservation

Saturday Night

“Like a kleenex - use once and throw away!”

It couldn’t have been any earlier than 2 AM. Few minutes after hooking up with a man she had picked up at the bar just down the street from her flat. Both of them laid in her bed. Yet, Danica paid no mind to his presence. She stared at the ceiling and let her mind carelessly wander to the events from earlier tonight. The shite, sorry game of Quidditch. The lush, smug meeting with the towering Broadmoor. How he had made her roar with laughter and pout with propriety all within the same conversation. These thoughts sent a shock through Danica’s chest, and in reaction, she pushed the man from out her bed, followed by a loud thump on the floor, a frail shriek from his mouth and on her command, she snapped at him. “Get out.”

Tuesday Afternoon

“Unannounced and uninvited. The nerve!”

Never in her imagination would Danica have foreseen herself at Wanda’s pristine, marble decorated home on her own accord. Here she was, willingly listening to her older sister bitch and moan on how she hadn’t previously scheduled a time to come by, and now, Wanda was left with the plate settings all uneven at the lunch table. Not to mention how Danica was teaching her nephew Clement how to conjure up licorice wands from the cabinet, when Wanda had specifically insisted on no funny business, as she had implemented a new strict only-one-candy-per-week kinda diet. 

So here Danica was, suffering through the repercussions, after she had attempted to do something - for the first time in her life - that was actually kinda selfless. However, it wasn’t long that Wanda’s sporadic fractions of lectures drove D prematurely out the door. Why did she even come by Wanda’s place in the first place? Last she remembered she sensed a pain in her chest and then found herself making small talk with the random store clerk at Quality Quidditch Supplies. What was the pit feeling she had at the bottom of her gut that just made her feel so... empty?

Saturday Night

“Screw you. I want you and your self absorbent drama out of my life, sister dear. Screw you!”

This time was much earlier than 2 AM. In fact, Danica was home much sooner than she had anticipated. The evening’s plans? A Quidditch game that’d regain the pride it lost last week and a night out in the town to cause mayhem in true twin fashion. Regardless, those plans had come to a large halt at what grew from a small, underlying tiff of tension between Danica and her sister Sloane, to a full on fallout with the person D most cared about in her life. 

As she apparated into the center of her living room, Danica tripped into her unbalanced footing only catching her balance out of reflex. Immediate as the blink of an eye, she let out a loud shriek in pure rage, firing out from the lowest inch of her gut. With her wand still in hand, she noticed the photo of her and her twin sitting on the sofa’s end table. At its instant glance, Danica threw a jarring hex at the frame, letting it shatter all over the floor. With the remains of the frame, but the photo still intact, a forceful grunt escaped her mouth and another curse fired from her wand to rip the picture apart. 

At this moment, Danica began to spit curses rapid fire from her wand around the room, first starting as quick gips that were following the remains of the photo, growing to literal fire spells that she led drag on all over her furniture. In between, you could hear her grunts intensify with every spit of exertion, growing louder with every flick of her wand, until her living room was lit up in flames. 

With one last exasperated spell, counteracting her previous hexes and partially putting out some of her fires, a blood-curdling shout released from inside Danica, sucking the energy from her body enough for her to fall onto her knees. Danica leaned against her hands, staring at the ground as she collapsed into a child’s pose. Her back remained bent over as her empty hand went to touch her face, only to find that she had somehow managed to emit a few tears in the midst of all the chaos she had created. Knowledge of this discovery only made her blood boil once again. 

Sunday Morning

“Just calling to check up on you... call me back. Love, Mum.”

Call it ‘Mother’s Intuition’, but Danica could give zero fucks for it at the moment and deleted the voicemail off her muggle phone.

Monday Morning

“There’s a message from Scamp Young-Broadmoor. He insists you get back to him by the end of the day.”

Fuck that, she thought. Then told her intern to move onto the next item on the list, with all intention that she would be ignoring the man’s advances.

Thursday Night

“... Just come by my place Thursday night, if you really need someone to talk to ...”

Junior had written to Danica practically a week ago. If he really wanted to meddle into the situation, since Wanda clearly wouldn’t speak to her face to face, then she would have to take him up on his offer.

The conversation quickly escalated, as Junior tried his very best to rationalize with his sister.

“I’m not saying Wanda and Sloane don’t have any blame in this-”

“But it is. That is what you’re saying-”

“Can you just listen to what I’m trying to say for a second?”

“No! No. You’re really that fucking spineless, Junior, that instead of choosing a side, you’d rather ride your fiancée’s fucking dick out of it and stay intact.”

“Hey. Hey! Relax, D.”

“Don’t tell me to relax!” Danica slammed her fist knuckles first into Junior’s dinner table, unaware that the wrath inside her subconsciously powered a bit of wandless magic into its punch. Now the dinner table sported a gaping hole where her fist used to be.

Half a minute of silence passed by, as they’d both had been processing how their bickering had escalated, leaving even Danica a little bit shaken up.

She stated, "This conversation is fucking useless.”

Junior could feel the anxious tension tingling through every nerve of his body. He probably wanted to cry, unsure of what to do and slightly hurt by the whole thing, so he just sighed.

“D... I’m only trying to help.”

The truth was neither one of them knew how to help the other. Danica wasn’t ready to help or be helped and Junior... well, he had a lot going on on his own. Especially after Danica mentioned Amy in retaliation, his mind had fogged up and all he wanted to do was walk away. 

Luckily, Danica had rather beat him to the punch.

“I’m gonna go. Bye.” 

Danica disapparated out of her brother’s flat and found herself now just walking blocks away down from her own. She could have immediately ended up back home, but honestly, she could use the walk.

After all, she found she really did need just a bit of time to herself... to think... Maybe it was the couple shots she took before heading to Junior’s place or the leftover anger resonating from half an hour ago. But Danica finally accepted to herself that she was hurt. She was upset. She was angry - and it might not have been mature of her, but she damn well wanted her sister to feel the same.

Not sure how one and one finally clicked inside that demented mind of hers, but Danica had come to one conclusion that night. 

She thought, Fine... I’ll have the intern call him.

[allthingshetalia]

Nordics with a touch starved s/o

💕Thank you for liking them💕

Denmark

You were glaring at him from your place on the loft. The slots in the railing gave you the perfect view of his focused face as he placed one LEGO on top of the other. He does remember you exist right?

Your boyfriend, the love of your life, also known a your favorite person in the entire world, was completely ignoring you. Why was he ignoring you? Well he was dared by America that he couldn’t build a better LEGO structure. So now here you were, cuddled all by yourself on the couch, staring down at him from the loft.

You finally broke your gaze and turned back to the window. The rain sprinkled from the sky and you could see the people across the street rush into their houses or the coffee shop. Growling lightly under you breath you looked back at the TV. The Office was playing at a low level because of it was louder it would ‘disturb your boyfriend.’ At least that’s what he said.

You stomach growled loudly making you wince and you heard a deep chuckle from below. Looking down you saw your boyfriend sparkling eyes shine up at you before winking and turning back to his project. Rolling your own eyes you hopped off the couch and made your way down the steps to the open kitchen. Decided on a pastry and some hot chocolate you quickly put some milk in the microwave to heat up.

You jumped suddenly when you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist. The other arm snuck it’s way under your oversized hoodie. You had to grab the counter for support.

Snapping out of your trace you pushed him away softly. Hearing a light gasp you turned around to see your devastatingly handsome boyfriend stare back at you with a look of hurt.

“I’m mad at you.” You stated answering his unspoken question. Turning back around you took your mug out of the microwave but before you could go any further two abnormally large hands twirled you around and placed you on the counter.

“Don’t be mad at me mit alt.” He chuckled leaning his head down so it was placed in the crook of your neck.

“You’ve been ignoring me.” You mumbled softly a little embarrassed that you were so upset about this. Bringing your hand up you twisted your hands into the fabric of his shirt. Moving his head away from your neck he rested his lips against your forehead.

“I haven’t been ignoring you. I’ve just been a little occupied.” He murmured against your forehead.

“Ya occupied with something that isn’t me. Which mean you are ignoring me!” You huffed burying yourself into his neck. A deep laugh rumbled in his chest causing you to shake a little.

“You’re right, how about I take a break for 15 minutes every hour? Does that make it better?” He asked tilting your head up.

“20 minutes.” You stated staring seriously into his light blue eyes.

“Deal.”

“Ugh, now my milk is cold again!”

Norway

You paced back and fourth infront of your boyfriends basement. He has been working on a spell for the past week and you barely even saw him. And you were tired of it to say the least. But you didn’t want to seem needy. But you also want- no needed some lovin’. So hence the reason why you were pacing back an fourth.

“Come on Y/N! This is your boyfriend I mean what’s the worst that can happen?” You mumbled to yourself. Finally stopping you quietly made your way down the steps. A green light shown through the cracks of the door making this whole situation unreasonably scary. Bringing your hand to the door knob you pressed your palm against the cold bronze. Twisting it softly it creaked open catching the attention of your boyfriend.

His violet eyes watched as you nervous opened the door, your own eyes connecting with him. He almost had to hold back a smile as you stared at him like a deer in the headlights.

“You know the rules Y/N.” He said dully, but you could hear a small smile behind his voice. Oh and I forgot to mention you weren’t allowed in the basement. Only because he didn’t want you to get hurt. I mean there where spell bottles, glass and who knows what else in there and you weren’t known to be the most graceful person.

“I know but I-” you stumbled off, looking around the darkish room.

“But what?” He asked putting down a glowing orange bottle of liquid. He came around the side of his desk and only stopped when he was a few feet in front of you.

“I miss you.” You mumbled keeping your eyes on his torso not wanting to look at his face. A hot blush was splattered across your face making his heart clench a little. A tiny smile spread across his face as he stared down at you.

“Really?” He asked holding his arm out and wrapping it around you. His other hand tangled itself into your hair, pushing your head against his chest. You hummed into his chest enjoying the feeling of him being pressed against you. “Well we will have to fix that.” He states lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. Closing the door behind him he made his way up the stairs and over to the couch before plopping down on it with you still in his arms.

Iceland

You were sprawled across your boyfriends bed, which to everyone sounds like a perfect dream but for you it wasn’t. He has been playing the same video game for the past 3 days!!! 3 DAYS! And that includes nights as well. The only sleep he’s gotten was a quick power nap and even that he didn’t cuddle with you. He literally just passed out. You silently cursed Hong Kong in your head for telling your boyfriend about this game. Laying on top of his pillow you stared at him as he watched the TV as if it was the most important thing in the world. Reaching out you skimmed your fingers against his back. He shuttered but didn’t even look back at you. Huffing you poked his back making his arch away from your touch a little.

Reaching his hand back he grabbed your wrist pushing your hand away from his back, going back to his game. Groaning extremely loud you flopped so you were on your back staring at the ceiling. Deciding that, that groan wasn’t enough. You groaned again just as loud. And then you did it again, and again, and again, and a few more times after that.

Opening your eyes you saw your boyfriend staring down at you with an annoyed look on his face. Deep circles hugged his under eyes and his pale skin looked a little more pale.

“What’s wrong?” He asked from above you.

“I miss you.” You mumbled lifting your hand and tracing the small stubble on his jaw. His eyes melted as he rolled them turning back to the TV he paused his game and twisted so he was laying next to you. Turning on his side he moved you so your back was against his chest and your head you tucked under his chin.

You smiled broadly and leaned back so you were completely pressed against each other.

Sweden

“Berrrrrrrrrrrrr.” You shouted walking out to the shed, aka your boyfriends workshop. He shut off a power tool and took off his safety glasses when he heard his nickname being screamed.

He has been building a new bed since the last one broke due to unspoken circumstances ;). And apparently a bed can take a while to build so he has been out here for about 3 days. So that means you have been suffering for 3 whole days.

“Yes, min Kära?” He asked. His eyes scanned over your form like he was searching for some injury.

“When are you going to be done?” You asked shifting from one foot to the other.

“Well I have the rest of the day and then we gotta paint it.” He stated leaning against his desk. “Why?”

“I miss you.” You mumbled moving wood dust with your foot. You heard him hum in amusement as his feet came into view.

His large hand placed itself under his your chin tilting your head to stare at his loving deep blue eyes.

“Well I gotta get this done........but I could stop early and finish it tomorrow. And then paint it the next day. Could you do another day with just sleeping on the hard mattress?” He asked running his thumb over your red cheek. You nodded quickly almost causing his thumb to poke you in the eye.

“Alright, But I need to clean up. How about a shower?” He asked his blue eyes darkening.

Finland

This has been going on too long.

Your boyfriend as somehow gotten wrapped up with a Tv show drama that happened to have 10 season on Netflix. So he’s been occupied for the past 4 days. To make it worse it was the most boring show on the entire planet! Like how could he find it so fascinating? You couldn’t even be in the same room because that’s how boring it was! But you were touch deprived! And you were going to get what you want no matter how much it hurt your ears.

Marching into the living room you stopped once you were standing in from of him, blocking his view. He barley paid any mind as he grabbed your hips and pushed you so you were sitting beside him.

“Nono.” You mumbled grabbing his shirt sleeve and tugging it softly trying to catch his attention. He turned his head a little at the sound of his nickname and as soon as he was about to look at you someone on his show got shot, immediately catching his attention back.

Huffing you leaned back against the couch, trying to come up with a new idea, but it seemed the gods were on your side when the TV suddenly cut out. Tino stared in shock as he saw the black screen but quickly turned his attention to your smiling face. Turning his head around he looked at you like you just slapped him.

“Why are you smiling?” He asked.

“Because now you won’t be so obsessed with your show.” You giggled running a hand through his hair resting your head in the crook of his neck.

“Ya but I was on season six so as soon as the Tv turns back on is still have 4 more season to go.” He stated making your heart drop.

“Oh just hush and love me.” You groaned burying yourself deeper into his chest.

(His name is Tino so I thought Nono would be a cute nickname, if you don’t just change it💕)

[notasiren21]

My Romance Kdrama Rankings and rec.:

*warning: possibly a lot of spoilers but tbh mostly just a redone synopsis of the shows*

Also a bit lengthy as hell

#12. Melting Me Softly

This show didn’t do that well as much as it was expected to, considering it even had Ji Chang-Wook as the male lead and the adorable Choi Bo-min who was introduced and quite possibly helped quick start the recognition for his kpop group Golden Child. I’ll admit I expected more of this and I don’t hold anything against the script writer who I heard did Strong Woman, but I kept in mind that the whole premise itself was also very complex to work with. Besides the fact it had two very cute and good looking male leads to draw me in, what really did it was the said premise. This is coming from a girl who is in love with Fallout 4 where the playable character was cryogenically frozen and then thawed out two centuries later, that shit slaps with me for some reason and I was excited to see it play out in this.

The romance is okay I guess, still “aww” worthy and has an intense kiss scene that’ll go down in Ji Chang-Wook’s kissing portfolio no doubt, as well as a hot kiss with his former and now aged flame that is only dreamt of. What drives the romance is the male lead with his puppy dog eyes and loving gaze, only a few have COMPLETELY mastered this in the kdrama buisness. Choi Bo-min was a complete adorable cutie who seemed to have fallen in love for the first time and I couldn’t help but fall in love with him (we’re also the same age but that’s besides the point and I’m completely in love with Rocky from Astro so like, I gotta keep this professional).

Time and time again I have issues with female leads in dramas and feel like the men pick up the slack when it comes to acting, this was one of those times. She was funny and quirky but seemed very out of focus on serval aspects. I think her most redeeming trait besides being made for the media and entertainment business in the show was her completely devotion to her brother.

#11. Suits

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, Park Hyungsik is my favorite korean actor hands down.

I’ve seen bits of the American version, the original version, and it didn’t interest me in the slightest. I took a chance on this because I saw this cutie wearing a suit and converse and maybe that’s my kink, who knows, but I was fucking HERE for it. Now I’m a huge slave to romance and the shows, romcoms, that shit. I need to ship, I need to see the love, possibly write a fanfic of it, save gifs of the couple being cute or someone pining. But this show didn’t focus on the love story brewing on the side, it focused on its original intent and purpose which was Park Hyungsik and Jang Don-Gun’s partnership as mentor and mentee, the practice of law, and Park Hyungsik’s storyline as someone who got mixed up in the wrong crowd and fauxed having the license to practice law. The love story you get is the reason it’s on this list and why it’s ranked lower, but all in all this was a good show and one of the few exceptions to a non romance focused show.

#10. Suspicious Partner

The only reason this doesn’t have a pic is because I can only use ten and I gotta figure which would need one and which wouldn’t.

To start off, this show is fucking hilarious with the cast dynamic. It was like what, 40 episodes? I didn’t realize I needed a prolonged show until this came along. At times, it seemed like the main plot was dragging and I was reminded of why I prefer typical kdrama fashion of a one season within 12-32 episode limit, but it made up for it.

Yes, yes, Ji Chang-Wook, the god of kissing, stars in this. My first introduction to him was actually Melting Me Softly and because of how he did in acting with what he could, the emotions he portrayed, I sought out another show of his pre-military duty. God, he fucking serves in glasses and a suit. His character’s jealousy regarding Nam Ji Hyun (his romantic interest) and Choi Tae Joon (Ex best friend, slow burn, exes to friends to platonic lovers that’s one sided while the other can’t stand him, 35k words) instilled the notion that he is fucking funny as hell when needed and such a mood. You want to see the (not even romantic rival bc Choi and Nam are best friends) spraying with a water hose on your lead’s rival? Want to see a hot guy like Ji Chang-Wook panic and try shoving him out of the house when the girl catches them working out? It’s gold.

The feud with the moms -granted they didn’t realize the knew they were the mom’s of the leads-, the slow burn of enemies to friends with the girls, the redemption of a broken friendship, the crackhead and large old baby played by Lee Deok Hwa and the poor father figure who is tired of everyone’s shit portrayed by Jang Hyeok-jin. It’s everything you need for at least a week. It’s possibly a great starter show to ease one into the fact that most dramas don’t hold to that many episodes.

The romance is great, the fucking pining on Ji Chang-Wook’s side is great, the kissing scenes are fucking one for the history books, and you’re guaranteed to be giggling to yourself in several scenes.

Oh and there’s like, a serial killer but yeah, romance!

#9. What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim?

The reason why it’s not so high on my list despite being popular is quite possibly some of the side cast.

While Park Seo Joon and Park Min Young severed as a fucking power couple and their tandem dynamic was strong as hell, there were characters who made the show’s story seen to drag out despite it being 16 episodes (see what I mean by usual number??). For one, we learn that a brown haired Lee Tae Hwan is not gonna make for a silent crush in this show. No, brown haired Lee Tae Hwan just gets on your nerves and despite it being purely because his character is mentally blocked in this twisted memory, he forces the main character into staying isolated within his own pain and nightmares from what really occurred when they were children. He lies to his family, keeps it hidden from those who are close to him and love him, suffers alone. It’s what keeps him away from chasing after Secretary Kim besides his egotistical personality -which I never thought could be so great but it is. The main character’s brother in his endless pursuit to chase at Secretary Kim himself starts to gnaw on your chill as you watch him subconsciously force this notions that they’re tethered to one another, deserve each other, etc. While you can’t entirely fault him for how he is given the psychological trauma he endured, you can get annoyed with him very easily for the other accounts and purposes.

The side story of the roof top guy with the one suit -I’m sorry, he’s great in 2PM but I can’t stand him in about every drama he’s in- and the seemly rookie girl become more of an obstacle when you just want to watch the main focus. The driver of the main character is hilarious but his romantic interest is over the top at times. Sometimes it just takes away from the show.

#8. Hotel Del Luna

Ah, I wish I could’ve put a pic.

To kick this off, can we like get a spin off with Kim Soo Hyun? Thanks.

FINALLY, A FUCKING FEMALE LEAD I STAN COMPLETELY AND WOULD WATCH EVEN WITHOUT YEO JIN GOO THERE FOR A ROMANTIC INTEREST.

This bitch, IU, fucking slays in her role as a hotel owner for the dead before the leave for the after life. Everything she does is iconic -yes, the fucking cocking of the rifle, the child like smile seeing diamonds, blessing the poor boy with the ability to see the dead then let him get chased per her own amusement before business. I really would’ve watched the show even if there was no romance. Whether it’s modern times or her orignal lifetime before being condemned to a life of immortality hell and aimlessly running a hotel, she makes for a strong lead. Her reasons for wanted to avoid love seemed so valid compared to other female leads who completely brush guys off. She doesn’t want love, and yet she doesn’t want anyone else touching Chan Sung (Yeo Jin Goo) because she’s not dumb enough to let go of something that makes her feel alive. While her character is legitimately described as cold and greedy, her intentions for holding onto him reveal an insecure part of her that’s been tucked away for centuries. His dedication to the hotel and her, to helping the ghosts move on and such, it’s great and makes for a binge full night.

It’s only ranked lower because the ending sadden me when I realized it was him picturing how they would meet one another again. And because they teased us with Kim Soo Hyun, like that’s cruel.

#7. Guardian: The Lonely and Great God (aka Goblin)

Tbh, this show would be lower if it weren’t for the Reaper and Sunny, as well as Deok Hwa.

I’ll probably get a lot of hate for this, but I couldn’t stand Kim Go Eun in this. I’ve watched her in Cheese in the Trap and thought she was good and stuff, but this I found myself growing annoyed and glaring at the television while my mom preached upon her behalf. The goblin was funny, his dynamic and weird polar friendship with the Reaper is quite possibly what really made the show, but I failed to see the spark between them until the time skip. Then, THEN, I could tolerate her a bit better.

Maybe it’s because she was protraying someone around my age in high school, but she went from this independent and driving girl to someone who became too needy and clingy. She acted like a little girl in front of a crush when she could’ve handled it more marturely with the said maturity she showed before meeting him. Granted, I know she had a very difficult home life after her mom died and she saw ghosts everywhere, and her living with the Reaper and Goblin was like this warm family she felt safe in, but I just couldn’t. Her endless pursuing of the Goblin got on my nerves and she would get upset, but then again did she ever act like an adult and do the most natural thing? Aka sit down and discuss the whole situation.

“If you’re comfortable, can you tell me why you think I’m your bride?/Why is there a sword in you?/What happens if I pull it out?/ What do you want me to do?/etc”

No, instead it was a constant “I’m the goblin’s bride”, “I’m your bride”, there was this bratty entitlement laying underneath the cutest exterior that was so apparent for someone my age, and I got pissed when she admitted to have seeing the sword the first time around. Like this man has been in total agony for fucking forever and you strung him along hoping for the possibility that you may be the key to him finally getting the ending he thinks he’ll get. It was selfish, she didn’t even know him but insisted on seeing how to be his bride. She should’ve stepped back and thought the situation out carefully. It wasn’t until that blessed time skip that I started to like her better. She wasn’t a kid then and became mature like she needed to be. There’s the need to flaw a character, but her’s was always biting at me.

Oh yeah, Sunny and the Reaper are the true couple in this story and their love that’s star crossed in two lives really hits you. There was more chemistry than the main couple, there was confusion in flirtatious banter, there was stupidity for first time romance against a tired experience woman, there was the hidden history that they both remembered after the time skip. The angst, the pure acceptance, the guilt and remorse. They made the fucking show alongside the Goblin and Reaper’s bromance and Deok Hwa’s “I just want a credit card and to be irresponsible but these two dumb fucks keep almost revealing their true selves to the world and I’m fucking done with these children”, on top of God taking his body as a vessel and becoming 10x cooler with that hairstyle while drinking with Fate (such a badass who loves her children I can’t, I stan the side character too).

#6. My ID is Gangnam Beauty

Oh my god, my introduction to Astro. Cha Eun Woo (aka Lee Dongmin). My god, if it weren’t for my mom, sister and I officially ruling Cha Eun Woo as god tier in terms of looks and making him this untouchable bias we can’t have, I would have never let this adorably hot as hell dancer and rapper distract me. Really, I kept wanting to be distracted by Rocky but I felt like I couldn’t miss the visual god in the front. Blessed I finally was able to divert my attention to the one I wanted to watch so very much and became my bias wrecker. Mom loves Moonbin like he’s her own son and we’re not her children, sister loves MJ’s psychotic idiocy.

ANYWAYS, the female lead, Kang Mi Rae, was stiff as hell when watching it a second time around and at times, knowing their age gap can be bothersome, but it was a cute slow burn of her and Cha Eun Woo’s character, Do Kyung Suk (sounds badass too, doesn’t it). While he appeared stiff as well, probably could’ve played a robot if he wanted to, I felt like he did well portraying his character who grew up in a dysfunctional house where their political father’s position took presidence over family. He was taught it was unmanly you cry, he never smiled (idk how Cha Eun Woo did it, this cutie never stops smiling or laughing), he never spoke up, etc. He appears socially handicapped until Mi Rae appears back in his life and he slowly let’s go of this anger as the story progresses. She learns she doesn’t have to be so self conscious about her plastic surgery or who she used to be because he loves both.

The villian of this story was well thought out (only kdrama where my dad actively participates in the discussions because he hated her so much and says her name with such spite while bragging he knows at least one Astro member so that’s his “idfk what a bias is but I’ll go with the Gangnam kid”). She brought the tension and there was the window to pity her and realize something was most definitely wrong in a tragic way. She sought after Kyung Suk like a prized trophy when he didn’t express interest, stepped inbetween blooming relationships, set boys off a progressive course away from her, and turned one kid psychotic. That was just with her obsession to have the boys fawn after her; completely disregarding her endless efforts to knock Mi Rae down a peg or two in meticulously planned schemes. She was incredibly smart and cunning, it can’t be denied and she drove them closer together in spite of her tries to wedge between them.

Really, this made me wish that the Webtoon True Beauty that’s supposed to get a drama adaption will cast him as the main male lead Suho. It’s almost similar but Suho seems more dimensional and expressive and I feel like he would truly shine there.

Stan Astro.

#5. Extra-Ordinary You

Ah, this one hurts me. @macaknight, just watch it.

This is a young love one and one of the few that’s not absolute cringe worthy. Set in high school where yea, there’s drama and it’s in Asia so there’s that weird “all mighty and supreme group that conquers the school” called the A3, a girl (Kim Hye Yoon) with a heart condition learns she’s a character in a manga -doesn’t realize she’s not the main one tho and that’s hilarious alone. She finds a focus with this unnamed student who stays in the background and shadows (portrayed by SF9’s Rowoon). The girl, Eun Dan Oh, is someone to worship and cherish, especially since she’s so young and very promising. I thoroughly enjoyed her character and how her efforts to derail the natural progression of the story with the catalyst of student number 13, later on Haru. There’s so many fucking twist and turns, characters to let your heartbreak for as you wish to adopt them and protect them from the world, it all hurts so much but in a masochistic against yourself kind of way you can’t let go of.

Those who are aware they’re in a comic book, they all struggle to break their “character’s” roles and expectations. The second male lead of both the drama and the drama’s manga is sick and tired of playing the violin and being this unrequited love interest that’ll lose in the end, forever the friend. Dan Oh is livid she’s expected to die from her heart disease and is forced to endlessly pine for her childhood fiancé Baek Kyung who is a complete asshole to her while in character. Number 13/Haru is tired of being an unnamed background character who continuously suffers and gets toyed with by the author. Dried Squid Fairy lunch maker is sick of how he must remember shit that’s kept a secret as he tries in vain to keep the story on track to avoid repeated mistakes and consequential devastating punishments to those who don’t follow the storyline. Yeo Ju Da (the main character of the manga) wants to experience the love story she wants without the drama. Baek Kyung want to prove himself and that he genuinely cares for Dan Oh but is forced to be an asshole because that’s how he’s written.

It’s a fucking mess and it’s fucking fantastic. The friendship of A3 (Lee Do Hwa the vionlist, Oh Namju and Baek Kyung), Lee Do Hwa and Dan Oh’s powerful best friendship after being self aware and confiding in each other (honestly I want a drama with just two of them, they’re so cute and funny together), the A3 that happened outside for those self aware between Dan Oh, Number 13/Haru, and Do Hwa where they all genuinely care for one another, Dan Oh’s acceptance that her manga best friend is a bitch but nice to her and the male lackey of their group is funny, etc.

I didn’t think another self aware comic book character show could happen without ripping off W-Two Worlds, but it did. They did it.

#4. Angel’s Last Mission: Love

That song that goes “It’s alright, it’s alright” in a sad melodic way? Yeah, they play it when it’s not alright.

This show has heartbreak galore, even in the first episode for numerous reasons. They don’t want you to be alright for the most part and yet our sadistic selves can’t help but suffer through it. L’s portrayal of being an angel is such a gift, I didn’t know I needed it. I was dead set on living my life until I saw this and felt myself crumble to bits.

You want sacrifice? You got it. Tears of cute boy and a girl who can’t catch a break? Check. Plot twists? Lmao, it’s a kdrama. Yea. Angst and hurt? Fuck yep.

While you’re at it, listen to the song too so you can suffer some more.

#3. Descendants of the Sun

THIS WOULD BE AT THE TOP IF IT WEREN’T FOR THE FACT I AM COMPLETELY IN LOVE WITH THE FIRST ONE AND THESE TWO GOT DIVORCED IN REAL LIFE. I still wish the best for them and their child. I still hurt but love them.

So much fucking chemistry and angst, so much hurt and wounds (it’s legit a show with a military background and characters), so much cool fight scenes and surgeries. Their soundtrack slaps, the backstory of characters really set the tone to their current stories, shit overlaps somehow, the female rivalry is hilarious, the cat and dog friendship of the male leads warms my heart. They have such iconic stills and scenes.

The main leads connected so fucking well they got married in real life (we don’t talk about the end result, I’m still crying but I get it.) This kdrama is probably one of the staples to korean dramas in general.

Another female lead I really liked as well as the second, I just struggled at times with Song’s character at times because of the pain she put them both through.

#2. W-Two Worlds

This is my go to for recommending korean dramas to someone for the first time -I got an ex hooked on it that he cried several times throughout it/life 1/4 of the varsity boy’s soccer team has seen this because of me.

This is the comic self awareness show that I didn’t think could be redone, but kudos to you Extraordinary You, you created an orignal that breaks my heart.

This show hurts so much as well, I don’t watch them if they don’t hurt in one way or another.

Lee Jong Suk stars as the main character (Kang Chul) who is also the main character of his own comic book he stars in. The issue is that he’s self aware and that there’s something wrong with his world and life. His webtoon/manga creator is trying to kill him because having his creation alive is driving him to insanity and was the only comfort when he pushed his family away for his career and alcoholism. The creator’s daughter is alerted that her father went missing while cooped up in his room while drawing Kang Chul’s death and end to the manga without a resolution to his storyline (Think of a korean Batman without the suit and brooding personality). Plot twist that’s in the synopsis, she gets pulled in by Kang Chul inside the comic and can come and go if it pertains to him because he controls it without realizing.

You have a main character who is written as this playboy orphan and sole survivor of his mass family’s murder that questions his existence and purpose BEYOND how we do. He meets this girl who speaks almost cryptically to him without realizing and knows more about him than needed or given, and now he’s experiencing oddities besides the notion of love that he can’t understand because it’s not how he is written and the glitches in his world.

This show is twisted in a psychological sense that messes with a comic character who is now alive and real, fucks up the mentality of the creator, puts the daughter in an immense amount of stress when she was just trying to be a fucking surgeon, yes, black haired Lee Tae Hwan is crush worthy in this unlike brown haired Lee Tae Hwan in Secretary Kim. (It’s the hair, you change the hair on a character and everything is different).

The exploration of what love is that works alongside the devoting dark plot of the culprit murderer really drives this show as well as the couple’s endless efforts to save/protect one another in any means necessary, even if they both suffer from it.

These two truly can’t live without one another and it shows with all they do for each other. There’s nothing they wouldn’t risk to keep one another in their arms.

And Lee Jong Suk delivers his share of being one of the King of Korean Drama Kisses as well, gif saving worthy and iconic ones as well.

#1. Strong Woman Do Bong-Soon

Park Hyungsik. Park Hyungsik. Park Hyungsik. Park Hyungsik.

Need I say more?

We stan Park Hyungsik’s character, Ahn Minhyuk, in this blog. We basically stan Do Bong Soon as well for how happy she makes him.

This is possibly totally bias but this is one of my two white noise korean drama shows that I continuously find myself rewatching time and time again. And that’s saying something since I only have one white noise show that’s in English. Three shows total.

People had issues with the script and what the actors had to say, but for the most part I thought the love story and the rival one was pretty well written, then again I kept watching different translations on different sites. So I wasn’t bothered at all. People also didn’t like the side characters and stories regarding the sketchy well dressed gang she hospitalizes in the first episode that stuck around until the last but I felt it was important to have them to prove how having Bong Soon in their lives can change a person and how she has this affect on people overall.

My god, the love story. Bong Soon has this massive crush on police officer and high school friend she was sweet on, Guk Doo, who doesn’t seem to acknowledge her feelings and is all about protecting the law and stuff (I can respect, I’m a LEO kid). He isn’t aware of her abilities of being incredibly strong and nearly indestructible. Nah, instead, CEO of AIN Software, Ahn Minhyuk, accidentally finds out and is like super chill but excited and curious about it and her??

He hires her as his bodyguard in the mist of receiving threats regarding his family company and they find an odd balance with each other while Minhyuk falls in love with her so hard, he literally tries to protect HER from danger. He’s so wonderfully extra that it’s no wonder Park Hyungsik and Park Seo Joon are best friends in real life, they both have the ability to play someone so over the top in a cute and funny way that you appreciate it about them. A cutie with a button nose and weird ears decked out in monochrome color scheme and dark sunglasses, whistling as he rides a hoverboard around? Die for 100%. Someone who gets crazy jealous and presents it in a healthily humorous way by dramatically posing to securitygates of his company that open automatically for him? Stan. Wants Bong Soon’s attention while she’s in a room away from him so her opera sings her name loudly and dramatically? Worship.

While it’s hard to watch the slow progression on her end yet the obvious budding of it, it’s understandable since she’s been in love with Guk Doo ever since high school and has assumably never had a boyfriend in hopes that he would reciprocate her feelings. So the second time watching it and stepping back to analyze, I could forgive her.

All the while, Minhyuk making Heart Eyes ™️ at Bong Soon for literally everything she does makes you feel. The way he holds her and treats her like she’s this precious porcelain doll that could break it handled the wrong way speaks volumes considering he knows of her Herculean strength. He openly loves her when he comes to realize what she means to him -which is a lot sooner than you’d think but welcomed-, and looks at no one else but her. The love story probably would’ve also happened faster if everyone didn’t think Minhyuk was gay (that’s a solid fact, I’m not joking), only those close to her and see how he acts/looks at her realize “lmao, he ain’t gay Hunni”. Minhyuk is this cute hottie that girls wish were straight (it’s fucking hilarious) who acts like a complete lovesick dork with Bong Soon. He freaks and spazzes out when she calls him a nickname or acts cheeky with dropping honorifics, speaks aloud to himself of his thoughts regarding her, literally can’t contain himself when she acts cute to get on his good side and distract his anger.

Oh and there’s like this serial kidnapper too so there’s badass scenes of the two working together, power couple def.

Their soundtrack slaps too and you somehow end up vibing with it. The song You’re My Garden on it, I learned to sing it because it’s one of my top favs.

They’re just the cutest with their hamster and puppy dog relationship. It’s my go to show and I won’t stop watching this. It’s so obvious how Park Hyungsik grew to fall in love Park Bo Young (that’s a legitimate fact) when filming and their bts cuts are too cute, I wish they were dating in real life.

(Also, we have another King of kiss scenes -to those who watched this drama already, you know the scene, iconic 🔥🎼)

[raendown]

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4161 Chapter: 23/? Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

In a world where the Senju and Uchiha traditional lands were too far apart to have ever made them enemies, Butsuma and Tajima are the ones who come together and sign a treaty of peace. Madara isn’t happy to have his life signed away for him in a political marriage to strengthen the bond between their clans. He is even less happy to have Tobirama make assumptions of him from their very first night together. What follows from there is a journey of healing, of learning, and finding the places to belong in the places least expected.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

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Chapter 23

Once the idea of it was put out for the rest of the council to chew on getting an organization of elite fighters put together was surprisingly easy. This soon after they had all come together new departments were being formed all the time still so it wasn’t all that difficult to simply branch a few more people off to begin organizing this latest project. What was more difficult was trying to get everyone on board with the same plan because each council member had fifteen suggestions and they all wanted theirs to be implemented first. In the end Tobirama wrested control of the entire project away from the fluttering fingers of so many cranky old men and dropped it all in Izuna’s lap. If his brother in law had enough time to spend his evenings in bars or running around trying to ruin marriages then he certainly had enough time to oversee the creation of this new military body.

Izuna wasn’t exactly happy to have such a large amount of work thrown at him without warning but Tobirama had noticed how the man was always looking for a chance to prove himself capable at anything within reach. Such a big opportunity was the perfect thing to keep him out of trouble. Perhaps it was reaching a little but he also hoped that maybe the responsibility would stabilize him a little, help him grow up even a tiny bit. He couldn’t keep waiting to crawl back under his big brother’s wings.

Not now that his big brother was married and building a life of his own. Tobirama had a few plans to see that life continue to grow and he refused to be put off those plans by anyone but Madara himself.

With things at home once again settled and happier than ever Tobirama was able to throw himself in to his own work with a new energy, still spread too thin as he had been before but keeping his head above water just a little better now that he didn’t have to waste so much brain space worrying about the man who shared his bed. He’d always been a firm believer in not bringing one’s personal life to work and here he had been one of the worst offenders with all the drama between himself and Madara. He never allowed it to affect his quality of work, of course, but he couldn’t deny that it had affected his productivity at times.

Unfortunately that meant he was suddenly spending almost as much time in his father’s office as Hashirama did despite not being required to report directly to his father for day to day work. The only occasion he actually needed to spend any time on the top floor outside of meetings was when he finished a project that required a proper report but with the surge of energy helping him get more than ever done in the office he found the loose ends tying together for several projects and proposals that had been sitting unfinished while his head was stuck in the clouds.

Once upon a time Tobirama had loved his father, he was sure. Back when he was too young to know him for who he really was. Standing across the desk and watching the man ignore him in favor of sorting the mail that had just been delivered he wondered what it said about him that he felt very little for the one who had sired him. He couldn’t say he loved Butsuma but nor could he say that he hated him. Once his training began at five years old their relationship had quickly become one of superior and subordinate with very little else in between and yet he’d never felt as though he were lacking anything. He may not have had a caring father but what he did have was an older brother who loved him and a first cousin who supported him through every up and down that had come to him in life, two people who were more precious to him than the rest of the world put together, so despite the distance between himself and the man across the desk Tobirama had never been alone and he was fine with that. He knew no other way of being.

“The Land of Iron?” Butsuma’s voice drew him out of his musings, though he waited to see if he was actually being addressed or if the man were just muttering to himself again. “Did we write any letters to the Land of Iron?”

“Not that I recall,” Tobirama admitted. Which was enough of a point on its own, really. He had a memory like a steel trap for most things.

“We used to trade with them when my father was clan head,” the other mused. “It’s possible they’ve heard of our newfound stability and wish to open trade again. Good fortune if that is the case; their weapons are of incredible quality.”

Furrowing his brows in thought, Butsuma pulled the cap off the end of the tube and slid a thin scroll out on to his desk. His eyes darted up and down the page as he read through the missive and then he was sitting back in his chair with both eyebrows up near his hairline. The parchment made a faint whoosh when he released it to fall to his desk without care.

“They’re offering an alliance,” he said. Tobirama blinked twice.

“I can’t say I was expecting that.”

“Neither was I. The trade offer I expected but to actually have them suggest a treaty of some sort…they do have caveats, of course, and they’re calling for an official meeting to hammer out such accords but this is certainly a boon I did not see coming. And without prompting!” His eyebrows were slowly coming back down but the shock in his eyes had yet to fade.

Tobirama paused the thoughts already racing through his mind with several half-formed ideas, chary nature catching on his father’s words. It wasn’t that unusual for a minor or even a major clan to make the first move seeking an alliance with the growing stability of Konohagakure but it was fairly odd for a far off land famous for remaining neutral in almost all conflicts to seek out an alliance. Not just a set of accords stating they would both respect each other’s borders but an actual alliance from what it sounded like. Very strange.

Strange enough for a few suspicions to form but he kept those to himself for the moment, unwilling to cause any upset in case he was only jumping at shadows. Instead he hummed and murmured, “Most fortuitous indeed. We should gather the council to get their thoughts.”

“We had a full meeting just last week to discuss your new ranking system,” Butsuma said, now frowning again with indecision – or possibly at the memory of listening to the Hyuga and Shimura heirs scream themselves hoarse over whether or not kekkei genkai should be considered as proof of having reached a certain level of skill.

“Perhaps an informal gathering? Just the heads themselves, I should think.” Tobirama tilted his head in question.

“I suppose it’s not as though any of those lazy bums are doing much else with their day. Hmph. Always letting their rank do the work for them.” Butsuma’s opinions of the other clan heads had never been particularly high, a battle Tobirama had decided was not worth fighting. It certainly wasn’t worth getting in to now when there were more important things to discuss.

“If you don’t mind, I should like for myself and Madara to attend as well. He has excellent insight, I find.”

Butsuma waved impatiently. “Yes, yes, fine. I have other things to do right now. Send word for the others to meet after lunch, would you?”

Tobirama nodded once and spun around to leave without waiting to be dismissed. There was no need. He understood the look in Butsuma’s eyes meant the man had already forgotten the unwanted distraction there with him. Before anything else he sent a few runners out to make the rounds and notify the right people as he’d been asked to. Then he settled in to spend his morning as he always did, squaring away the daily tasks that needed to get done first so they wouldn’t pile up on him the next day. With the knowledge that his afternoon would be interrupted he actually managed to step on the gas a little extra and get more done than he expected – right up until twenty minutes to noon when he felt a rush of guilt go through him.

“Madara,” he mumbled in his breath. “I forgot to tell Madara.”

Of all the people he needed to invite to this impromptu meeting it was shameful that he hadn’t remembered to send a message to his own husband. Clapping the heel of one palm to his forehead, Tobirama stood from his chair and hurried out of the room. Thankfully the hallways were mostly empty so he didn’t have to dodge a hundred bodies trying to move up a floor.

When he got there, however, the office was also empty and for a few moments he did nothing but stand in the doorway staring at the two desks inside with a bewildered expression. He couldn’t remember the last time he had even walked past the room and not seen Madara hunkered down in his chair with a pencil in hand gripped like he were going to war with it. Madara did almost everything with an edge of aggression, even writing his reports, and Tobirama couldn’t help being endeared by the sheer unnecessity of it all.

All it took was a quick second to stretch his senses and he located both Madara and Hashirama in a teahouse only half a block from the tower. They must have taken an early lunch, he realized, and while his first instinct was to simply head over and join them he was held back by thoughts of all the work he would miss out on completing if he squandered the last hour left to him.

He could eat when they got home, he decided reluctantly. Sending another runner with a message was difficult when the draw of spending lunch with his husband and brother was so strong. Tobirama was fairly sure they must have heard his sigh three floors down when he made it back to his own desk and sat down with enough reluctance to make his relation with Hashirama obvious. He could feel the others that supposedly shared his office space puttering about on the first floor so he at least had the silence and calm environment he preferred to work in but it wasn’t nearly as pleasant as slipping in to that little café would have been, inviting himself to sit next to Madara, entwining their fingers out of sight below the table, and teasing Hashirama with blatantly false denials that anything at all had changed between them.

Instead he filled his lunch hour with forms and charts and endless tables covered in numbers and notations enough that if he didn’t love mathematics so much he might have shredded each of these documents. Madara came back from lunch a little early and for a moment Tobirama thought he might have a bit of unexpected company but at the last moment that familiar chakra was intercepted by someone else and led away to do his own job.

Fifteen minutes before the surprise meeting Tobirama all but tossed his pencil down and rubbed at the space between his brows. A headache was already forming and he hadn’t even had to deal with all the idiocy of multiple clan heads vying for dominance yet. Wonderful.

Determined to have a moment since he had been denied an entire lunch, Tobirama hurried out of his office and up the stairs to intercept Madara just as he stepped out in to the hall. He ignored the startled squawk and pulled them both in to the first room he couldn’t feel any presence inside of. None of the empty desks had any judgement for him as he shut the door and pressed Madara against it to bring their lips together for a warm, languid kiss, gratified to feel his partner melt in to it immediately.

“What was that for?” Madara asked, dazed.

“I felt like it,” Tobirama replied gruffly. He cleared his throat and fixed his shirt as though nothing had happened. “We should get going before we’re late.”

“You were the one that pulled me in here!”

“And now I’m telling you we should go.”

Madara glared at him for a moment, the corners of his mouth twitching to hold a smile at bay, but eventually he lunged forward to steal another kiss before spinning around and all but leaping out in to the hallway. Tobirama followed with much less tension between his shoulders than had been there only a moment ago. All the yearning built up from denying himself a café lunch hour had been rather pleasantly satisfied by their quick little liaison.

Watching from the corner of one eye as Madara stumbled along in a bit of a daze, Tobirama entered the board room feeling rather smug. None of the clan heirs were present but for themselves, not even Hashirama, only the men and women who viewed themselves as the most important people in the village. Politically, of course, they could be considered correct but that attitude had always struck Tobirama in an unpleasant way, the thinking that all the lives of everyone else were somehow less important because they hadn’t been born to the head family.

Yet another of the battles he had chosen not to fight; there was no point when he already knew he would never change anyone’s mind about it.

Picking out a seat midway down the table as he usually preferred to when there was space available, he pulled them both down between the Aburame matriarch and the Kohaku clan head whose beard proceeded him by several feet wherever he went. Every time Tobirama saw him he was tempted to ask when that mess had last been combed. He refrained today, as he always did, and lifted his head to watch with no little exasperation as his father marched in to the room wearing one of the smuggest expressions he had ever seen.

Very much in the mood to mock any of the idiots around him, Tobirama watched his father place himself on a plain wooden chair as though it were a golden throne and muttered quietly under his breath in imitation, “I’m sure you’re all wondering why I’ve gathered you here today.” He was gratified to hear muffled snickering from the seat beside him – then both he and Madara were biting their lips to keep the laughter in when Butsuma unknowingly repeated his mockery verbatim.

“I’m sure you’re all wondering why I’ve gathered you here today.”

“Go on,” Tajima called in a deadpan voice from his end of the table, “thrill us.”

“Yes, I intend to. I have in my hand a letter from the Land of Iron, with whom I will soon be signing a treaty to secure an alliance.” He looked incredibly pleased with himself, even more so to hear many of the heads around the table murmur with approving surprise.

Tajima, on the other hand, did not look as thrilled as he had asked to be. He looked instead as though he had swallowed several lemons at once and immediately regretted doing so with his face pinched and drained of blood, jaw clenched until the veins in his neck began to pop out alarmingly.

“I beg your pardon. You secured an alliance with the samurai?” he asked. Tobirama noted the deadly iron undertone and wondered at the odd emphasis but Butsuma paid it no mind.

“Correct. I have a communication that reached me this morning to prove it. Yamanaka-san, if you would pass this along the table for the council to read.” The letter was shared around and with each set of hands it passed through Tajima looked closer and closer to exploding at any moment without any obvious explanation for why. By the time it reached him he was nearly frothing at the mouth with a rage that did not seem to fit the situation, snatching the letter out of the Hyuga head’s grasp the moment it came within reach.

His eyes fairly snapped up and down the page as he read. Somehow he managed to make even reading look angry, a trait he shared with his son although on Madara it was more adorable than off-putting. Tobirama mused that it must be his husband’s cheeks. Tajima’s cheeks didn’t puff out when he was angry; they sucked in.

When it was no longer needed the letter was placed back down on the table with deliberate motions and it felt as though the entire room were watching for Tajima’s reaction. They were not disappointed, though obviously many of them were a little confused.

“You say this was delivered to you?” he asked his counterpart, nostrils flaring.

“It was.”

“Well then. You will all excuse me, I hope, while I go down and speak with the postal department or whoever delivers the mail around here.” Standing from his seat, Tajima paused when Tobirama spoke up without thinking, a habit built from years of dealing with a brother who couldn’t keep a proper title in his head if he taped it in there.

“The couriers, I think you mean.”

Halfway out of his chair, Tajima twitched violently. “Yes,” he ground out. “The couriers. If the council will excuse me now.”

Until he heard the sheer offense in the man’s tone Tobirama hadn’t thought anything of his subtly reprimanding tone, though it was hard to feel bad at all when he had Madara's hand on his knee squeezing tightly to hold in his utter joy at seeing Tajima scolded in public like a young child behaving badly. It only got harder for the both of them to contain themselves when the fool at the head of the table attempted to sweep regally towards the door only to have his dignity and his clothing torn at the same time as his sleeve got caught in a few splinters on the arm of his chair.

Since those splinters had not been there at the beginning of the meeting Tobirama could only assume the poor lump of wood had taken the brunt of his unexplained temper. Extracting himself and what little was left of his composure, Tajima stomped out of the room with a thundercloud hanging over his head for all to see. In his wake many of the council began to whisper amongst themselves.

“It seems Uchiha-sama has some business more important than that of the village,” one of them remarked with scorn obvious in every word.

“As we all know, he is indeed a very busy man,” Butsuma pointed out. He could afford to be magnanimous now that he’d made himself look so good with this unexpected and greatly beneficial alliance. “He will understand if we continue without him.”

Left with no one else to challenge his authority as the one leading the meeting, Butsuma called the room to order and happily took charge for the rest of their discussions. Without their usual minor clansmen present to take notes Tobirama appointed himself the job of recording minutes but that didn’t stop him from throwing in a suggestion here or there. He was surprised that Madara didn’t say much, though from the contained amusement on the man’s face Tobirama thought more and more with each passing minute that his suspicions from that morning had been correct.

Waiting until the entire council had run dry of things to say took forever. As much as Tobirama tried to give respect to the generation before his own he had noticed that many of them said more than necessary just to fill the room with the sound of their voice, almost as though they were afraid others might forget their importance if they didn’t fill a certain quota of words each day. In the end it did little more than waste everyone’s time yet still he was forced to sit quietly and listen to them lest he give offense and cause himself more trouble than he wanted to deal with. Letting the old folks ramble on was easier than soothing so many ruffled feathers.

It gave Madara time to compose himself, at the very least, so by the time they were all finally able to escape the meeting he was able to cobble together an expression that at least partially resembled solemnity. The façade crumbled as soon as they left and Tobirama pulled him in to the same office they had borrowed before, thankfully still empty.

“You seemed to find your father’s reaction to this alliance particularly funny,” he noted.

“Do you think he noticed?” Madara burst in to a wave of laughter and Tobirama let him ride it out, a reward for holding it all in for so long. When he could make himself heard again he took a quick moment to make sure Tajima’s chakra was still tucked away somewhere broody and subdued before speaking.

“To be honest I don’t think he noticed anything except that letter and my instincts tell me he knows a little something about it that my father and the rest of the council do not.”

He was not at all surprised when Madara collapsed against him with another round of laughter.

“I don’t know what’s funnier,” his husband said. “The fact that he thought he could make a secret alliance with the samurai and they would somehow help him gain more power in his own village when they’re so determined to focus on none but their own. Or the fact that someone delivered their reply to your father by accident. Did you see his face!?”

“Yes, I did.”

“He was so angry! All pinched up and quiet!”

“I’m noticing a distinct lack of sympathy for your father,” Tobirama mused carefully.

Despite both of them being aware of the situation between Tajima and Butsuma it wasn’t something they had spoken on very much. Possibly they were both being a little overly cautious about their own relationship and after already having one fight it felt much too early to have another. He was pleased, however, to see Madara do nothing but scoff, a petty sort of sound that he could definitely appreciate. Madara had a hundred different reaction sounds and all of them were fun to listen to.

“He’s an idiot for thinking Butsuma is up to anything nefarious and a bigger idiot for thinking he can somehow wrest control of this village all to himself – as though the council will let that happen! I mean, he almost backed out of the whole idea when your father wanted to arrange our marriage and now he thinks he’s the one that gets to be top dog?”

“Am I right in my suspicions that what I turned in to this new Inferno Squad was actually meant to be a gang of Uchiha spies?” Tobirama asked, the corners of his lips turning up as well.

Madara dropped a head on his shoulders and shook with mirth. “I didn’t realize it until the meeting when you started praising him for his ‘excellent idea’ but yes, I think so. He looked ready to kill you on the spot!”

“Good lord.”

“I know!”

“What an idiot…”

“I know!” Madara leaned farther against him until Tobirama found that he didn’t really want to think about Tajima anymore.

Slipping fingers under his partner’s chin, he encouraged Madara to lift his head so he could draw them together for another kiss, feeling rather illicit doing this in someone else’s office when they both should have been getting back to work instead. As always it was a bit of a thrill to knowingly break any kind of rule but it was twice as thrilling to have Madara give a pleased hum and press against him in a silent request for more. He was only too happy to oblige.

He was also incredibly pleased by the hands that slid up the sides of his neck to bury themselves in his hair. Each time he stole a kiss Madara grew more and more bold, more willing to explore. And each time it became more and more obvious that he would need to start finding clever ways to explain why he was suddenly taking much longer showers.

“We should get back to work,” he murmured eventually, reluctantly, whispering the syllables in the space between them with duty heavy on his tongue.

“Just one more minute,” Madara bargained.

Feeling as though a wave of peace were gently washing over him, meeting already long forgotten, Tobirama smiled. “Alright. One more minute.”

They stayed for ten.

[nelllraiser]

nell yell | alain & nell

HellaHairFlipToday at 2:33 PM

our chatzy is basically just nell yelling at alain contin.

ameliemellowToday at 2:34 PM

And Alain being either 😏 or 🙄

Blocked. He’d blocked her! Like some thirteen year old girl who got into a fight about whether Britney or Christina wore it better. Well- she wouldn’t go for that. She’d taken care of things with Remmy and Blanche, doing what she could to protect them for now in a hastily concocted plan. Now it was time to deal with Alain once more. She hadn’t bothered with more regular means of finding out where he lived, not having the patience for anything less than a quick and easy tracking spell that led her straight to his front door. In a moment, she was banging heavily on it, not waiting for him to open it before she called out, “I wasn’t done yelling at you! And I didn’t say anything about nazis! You got there on your own.”

What the fuck was that about? Alain had been busy working in the old pigpen all morning, and his argument with Penelope was no longer worrying him, buried somewhere far in his head. What was the point of arguing with a wall anyway? She just yelled at him for the sake of it, and certainly was not ready to hear facts. And yet, when he heard the yelling at his front door, he knew immediately who was bothering him, despite having never met his so called fan in the flesh. Grabbing a piece of paper towel from a large roll, he started cleaning off the grease of his hand and walked out of his garage, arms crossed over his chest and a disapproving frown already on his face. Who the fuck did she think she was, showing up like this on his property? Then what could he expect from someone who defended a monster and yet didn’t feel bad about putting other ones in cages. The hypocrisy was blinding. “Bonjour, Nell,” Alain spoke calmly, a smile spreading across his face, then with all the nonchalance he could gather, leaned against the doorway. “You never know when to give up, do you?”

To be honest, Nell hadn’t even gotten to the realization that she had yet to meet Alain in person. She’d seen pictures of him from people around the Ring to accompany the stories of him, but of course most of those had been from years ago, taken during his time there. Now, as he opened the door, she blinked in surprise for a couple of moments— her rage temporarily and unintentionally put to the side for a moment. If this had been even one day ago, she probably would have been making an utter fool of herself on his front doorstep, not knowing what to do with herself when it came to meeting someone she’d idolized. Then she had to remind herself, No! I’m angry at this asshole. In the next moment, her scowl was back in place, arms crossing stubbornly over her own chest. “Don’t Bonjour, me,” she said indignantly, annoyed that he was acting as if this was no big deal. “I don’t give up.” Her words were succinct, though he was most likely right about not knowing when to let in. “So I’m here to babysit you. Congratulations.”

Alain rubbed his hand against his jawline, scratching through his beard idly as he listened to her speaking. “Fine, I take that bonjour back,” it was best not to get angry at her, even if he was already upset that should would dare showing up on his doorstep. This was his happy place, and he wasn’t too fond with having drama unfold here. He looked at her with the same look she was giving him. His arms still crossed over his chest, he didn’t move from where he stood. “Babysit me? Aren’t you busy babysitting Remmy and Blanche? Don’t you have better things to do? Because I do.”  His life could not only revolve around hunting or he’ll end up mad, he had made sure that it would never be the case years ago, when he left the Ring. Still, there were times where he felt as if he was standing on a thin line between sanity and madness. “Why are you here?”

Being angry at Alain on the internet, and maintaining that anger in person were two very different things. When he wasn’t here and in the flesh, and just black and white words on a screen, she could distance herself from the burning questions she’d always wanted to ask him. But with his face constantly reminding her who he was, it was more difficult to stay focused. And how did he look so young, anyway? In truth, it didn’t seem his appearance hasn’t shifted much from the pictures she’d been shown. “I already babysat them.” Sorry Blanche. She sent her friend a mental apology at the term of ‘babysat’. “Besides, the person I need to protect them from is right here. Might as well just get to the source of the problem.” Was it not obvious why she was here? “I just told you! To keep you from hurting Remmy or Blanche.”

"So I'm the source of the problem now ?" Alain's eyebrows raised. Okay, this was not his perspective on this situation. He thought of himself as the solution, not the problem. The problem was a zombie who had managed to manipulate or influence two young girls into liking them so much that they vowed to protect them, despite the risks. Those risks were too familiar for him to look past them. Death, or transforming into one of these things. This was always how he'd seen it end. "Are you expecting me to believe that you don't find zombies to be a threat to humans ? This is an accident waiting to happen." When something was dangerous, you either fixed it, put a barrier or destroyed it. Fixing Remmy was probably impossible, so the two other options were the only that were available. He too cared about Blanche and if they could come to an agreement, he would accept it, even if he would not like it. Frustration was a feeling he knew too well, but it seemed the young girls had never met it. "Come in, I'll make you some coffee or whatever."

“You were already the source of the problem!” Nell explained, exasperation in her voice. “If you weren’t so intent on killing them, there’d be no problem in the first place.” No doubt he’d be ready to disagree that killing them would be the opposite of a problem, but Nell wouldn’t be swayed. More than anything though, she was frustrated that Alain seemed to be determined to be calm, cool, and collected. What had happened to the man who’d been snippy with her online? “Of course accidents happen. I’m not stupid. But you avoid accidents by education and practice and planning. And then you don’t have to kill. You haven’t even tried! You just went straight to kill!” Though, that wasn’t entirely surprising. After all, he was a Hunter. “What?” she questioned, surprise coloring her tone as she was caught off-guard. “Do I look like I want coffee?” She wanted to be upset, not have some nice little tea time with Alain. And yet...there was still that annoying little part of her that was very much curious about what the inside of his house looked like. 

“If they did not exist, there would be no problem,” he drily replied, looking over his shoulder as he heard the sound of his dogs approaching to have a look at the stranger. Alain scratched on his dog’s head, glancing down to give him a look. “What kind of life is that anyway ? An eternity of eating brains, and being scared that you’ll snap and hurt your friends? I’m doing them a favor,” he raised the tone of his voice this time. Apparently being calm was not enough for getting his point through. Was anything going to be enough? Nell was stubborn and not open for negotiation or compromises. So be it. As far as the undead were concerned, even if vampires were the most evil of the two, he still considered that you couldn’t afford to let the disease carried by zombies spread. “You look like someone delusional, I don’t know if these people have coffee, but I do,” the hunter stepped back and followed by his dogs, walked to the kitchen. 

“I mean technically that’s right, but only because you’re a prejudiced jerk!” Besides, a world without Remmy would be a much sadder one. They were such a pure light in an otherwise mostly dark world. She opened her mouth to let another tirade of words out, “I-” but then, she went miraculously silent. “Is- that your dog?” Nothing like a pup to get Nell nice and distracted. Automatically, the desperate need to pet it gripped her, but would that make Alain think she was being friendly towards him? She wanted Alain to know she was mad at him. But the dog....apparently she was unable to focus on the argument he’d supplied her with in return because of it. Still, it didn’t stop her from firing back, “I’m not delusional.” Then she was begrudgingly following him inside, realizing she’d have to if she wanted to keep lecturing him. 

“Or because they are homicidal cannibals who cannot control themselves when they see blood, or a corpse. Who sees a corpse and goes : oh yeah, I’d eat that shit,” he paused, for emphasis, “MONSTERS, that’s who.” His tone was rather calm all things considered, but there were intonations that betrayed the fact that this conversation made his blood boil. “What? Yes.” He would have usually been more sarcastic and claimed that he stole it from the neighbors, but that was not really in his mood to do that now. “I have two of those goof balls,” the other one was now laying right in his way. “Sounds exactly like something a delusional person would say,” he replied with a smile that she could not see, walking after him. “So, coffee or not?” He asked again. 

“That’s not true! You’re blowing it out of proportion! Even if some are like that there’s steps you can take to make it safer! But you won’t even try!” It seemed that her anger had come back full force, set off by his phrasing and the use of the word monsters. Gone was the distracting voice in her head that still wanted to fawn over just how cool Alain was during his Ring days in those moments, rage making her see red. “You act like they want to destroy and shit, but you’re fucking wrong! There’s no set rules for them! I’d expect you to know that if you didn’t just kill on sight! But you’ve probably never given one a single chance in your entire life!” Maybe some reveled in the killing, but his words were also triggering memories of her times travelling and dispatching monsters or supernatural of all sorts. Certainly, there were those who thrived in being the bloody things they were, but there were some who just wanted peace. She couldn’t stop thinking about one of those very people who had just so badly wanted to be normal again. It’d been heartbreaking to watch. Her phone buzzed just then, and she glanced at it to see yet another message from Bea insisting she wouldn’t be leaving the house in spite of a demon being on its way after Nell had sent Vashti their address. Just another fucking thing to add to Nell’s plate in this moment, and her anxiety grew, her shoulders going even tenser. Even the dogs couldn’t calm her in this moment. Her passion white-hot to the touch. “Fuck you, Alain,” she hissed in an icier tone, frustration getting the best of her. “I’d rather eat nails than have coffee with you.

“I’ve seen what these things can do. If you had seen it, you would be agreeing with me right now,” Alain had witnessed how short-tempered she was online, and he was not too shocked to hear her raise her voice after what he had just said. He gave her a look, his face stern. He listened to what she had to say, but this time, did not reply. What was the point? She did not come here to convince him or be convinced, it seemed, but rather just to yell at him. The man sighed heavily and turned his back on her to get his French press and his coffee out of the cupboard. He turned on the kettle and sat on the counter, glancing at her as she took her phone out. Watching her expression change, he frowned . Whatever it was that she was reading, it made her very upset. More than she already was. Was it bad that he wanted to make it even worse? “I quite like it when you talk dirty to me,” a grimace appeared on his face as if to say my bad, before he added : “I was just hoping we could have a nice little drink together,” his elbow resting on his knee, and his head on his palm he looked at her with mild amusement. 

“You don’t know what I have or haven’t seen! You have absolutely no idea who I even am, barely! We met barely like a week ago! Before that you didn’t even know I existed! So don’t tell act like you know what I have and haven’t seen, and how I’d react upon seeing those things! You think I haven’t seen shit? You don’t know anything so stop acting like such a self-righteous prick.” It was true that she’d only really gotten into the monster scene some five or six years ago, but in those years she’d travelled far, and seen perhaps a bit too much at times. But for a split moment her emotions were stopped dead in their tracks but his unexpected words. At least they jolted her out of her one track mind for a moment, and she took a couple of steps towards him to place her hands on either side of him on the counter. “If you liked that you’ll love it when I tell you that if you hurt a single hair on Remmy’s head, when Regan gets a hold of you to take you apart and figure out what happened, there won’t be pieces of you big enough to see under a microscope.” But then her phone buzzed again, and she whipped her gaze back to it. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, she didn’t have time to sit here and play with Alain. Absolute worry was quick to color her features once more, her concern for her sister easily trumping her anger at Alain. 

"I don't know, maybe it's the fact that I was already witnessing crazy shit before you were even born," he sulked exaggeratedly. “Oh no, she called me a prick,” he deadpanned, glancing down at his dog as if he was a camera on The Office. Grabbing the coffee maker, he pushed on the piston and poured himself a mug of coffee. He took a sip from it, although when he saw her approaching, he was quick to get that thing out of her way. No second degree burns, please. “Threats.” How many times in his life was he threatened? He’d lost count. He had never liked those, where was the fun in telling people what you’d do to them if they disobeyed you. It entirely ruined the surprise. “That’s original,” judging from his tone, it was not. Once again she was disturbed by her phone and once again he saw her face change. “If you have better things to do, please go ahead. I wouldn’t want to hold you back,” his eyebrows raised. He was more than curious to know what was wrong, but figured that it was best not to ask.

Nell gave a hearty eyeroll at that. The classic ‘I’m older than you and therefore wiser’ argument. “”That’s such bullshit. It still doesn’t give you the right.” Alain seemed to think that she was here to simply yell at him, and though that was partially true, he didn’t seem to grasp that she was here for Remmy, not for him. “This isn’t about you. I’m not here to point out the obvious about you being an ass.” Her hands went up in exasperation when it came to his words on her threat. She didn’t threaten people to scare them, she did it to warn them, to let them know just how far she’d been pushed. But she was winding down in a way, too immersed in her worry for Bea to properly focus on what was happening with Alain. She was spreading herself too thin, and a part of her felt like it was going to just snap at any moment. But she couldn’t afford to. She couldn’t drop the ball and let someone get hurt. “There’s something I need to take care of,” she said shortly, her voice now holding that element of fear in it that had nothing to do with Alain, too worried about what Vashti might be working up. She began to head for the door, but turned towards the Hunter once more, her barbs seemingly gone as she spoke again in a voice that seemed to be more pleading than the fire she’d been exhibiting before. “Just...please. They’re not just a zombie. Just take a split second to think about everything it is that you’re destroying, the person you’re destroying. You’re not even giving them a chance. There’s ways if you’d just let me help them.”

Watching her leave the kitchen, Alain took the time to pick up his coffee before he went after her. Whatever was going on bad to be quite serious. He would have offered to help had it been any other context but right now, all he wanted was for her to leave so he could enjoy his coffee and enjoy the nice weather. Maybe he could garden today. He had bought a few bulbs that he would have to plant. "Why is it only now that you are willing to have an actual conversation with me ? As you are leaving?" Alain was curious as what ways she was talking about, and would have rather spoken about that than yell and be yelled at. Go figure why she didn't start with this instead. He may have been stubborn but he was mostly curious. Guess they could discuss this another time. "We should talk about this another time then. Now don't wait too much. You've got urgent things to do." Leaning against the doorway he waited for her to leave so he could close the door.

The phrasing of his words sparked Nell’s temper a bit once more, but it wasn’t enough to make her loud as it had before. It was true that she generally came into things hot and heavy, but she couldn’t help it. Even so, she’d been just as right when she was angry as she was in a calmer place. So she didn’t really give him an answer, instead only giving him a little glare, though it wasn't nearly as withering as her previous ones had been. What she didn’t expect was Alain to actually seem...receptive for a moment, though, and she gave him another considering glance, unsure what to make of this. “Another time, then.” And then she was out the door to go fight a demon.

[vcg73]

Witch!Kurt Chapter 41: Dearly Beloved

Just a happy wedding day!

~*~*~*~*~*~

After eating his fill of the mismatched buffet that his new sister-in-law had Conjured, sampling everything from chicken-and-waffles to bangers-and-mash, followed by a 90 minute sofa-nap in Adam’s arms, Kurt was more than ready to make his wedding day official.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have Finn, or Fam, or whatever they’re calling themself now, take over as Best Man?” Elliott asked. “It isn’t that I don’t want the job, but I already stood by you for the first ceremony and Adam is having his brother for both, so with you finally getting your own brother back, I kind of thought…”

Kurt stopped the selfless offer with a hug-tackle, surprising a laugh out of his best friend as Elliott caught him and stumbled back a pace. 

“I love you, you know that?” Kurt said as he held his friend.

As he pulled away he took a moment to straighten the sparkly blue bow-tie Elliott had fastened around his neck, seeing that his enthusiasm had knocked it askew. The tie had been spell-cast to stay in its current state, growing or shrinking at need when Elliott changed in and out of his cat form. A jaunty blue-banded top hat - likewise enchanted - was perched upon his head, and the hug seemed to have done it no harm, but Kurt couldn’t resist giving it a little adjustment anyway.

“Think about all the things we’ve shared over these last few months, El.  With magic, Adam, and just day to day life, it’s been a lot! Your patience and devotion never wavered through any of it. Nobody in my life has ever been there for me in quite the way you have, especially when there was nothing to be gained from it except my friendship.  As much as I love him, that’s something that I can’t say of anyone else, including Finn. So as thrilled as I am to be able to have my brother here today with the rest of my family, you’re still the one I want to finish this standing at my side. Okay?”

Elliott was blushing at the rush of compliments. “Well, in that case, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. And don’t discount your friendship as being worth all the rest, Kurt. Beyond just the witch/Familiar bond we share, you’ve always been there for me when I needed a boost, or a kick in the pants, or just someone to go out and have some fun with. Even when you were busy enough to make my head spin, you always had a minute for me when I needed one. So, seriously, ditto.”

The two friends embraced again, then went to join the family. The remainder of the coven and Sebastian had already departed to get things set up for the reception, leaving just the two grooms, their families, Elliott, and Mercedes, whom Kurt had invited to join them, fulfilling a promise made when they were both small-town high schoolers with no idea whether this day would ever  come.

Seeing that everyone was ready, Henry Crawford ordered everyone to join hands, then he promptly whisked the entire group across the city, reappearing a block from the Manhattan City Hall. There was no point in the grooms avoiding one another before the wedding, and since both young men felt that they’d already been wed during the morning’s ceremony at their apartment, this was more of a formality for Adam and Kurt.

For all the fevered anticipation that led to getting married, the legal portion was very low-key. Kurt and Adam’s party simply waited in line at the Marriage Bureau door behind several other couples and their families, then went inside when they reached the front. Kurt and Adam presented their marriage license and identifications which got them a waiting room number. Everyone sat down on a set of comfortable green couches.

“Not sure if you boys are getting married or waiting on a driving test,” Burt commented, looking a bit grumpy as Kurt and Adam’s number was called, they and their best men went to a little window to fill out some paperwork as participants and witnesses, and then came back to wait some more.

Adam laughed. “Well, it is a government building,” he said, “and bureaucracy is a largely universal experience. Plus we chose what is probably one of the most sought-after wedding dates of the year.”

Noting that he sounded slightly apologetic for his choice, Kurt squeezed his hand. “It’s romantic,” he said. “I love that we’re getting married on Valentine’s Day. It’s worth a few rounds of waiting in line to know that in a little while, you and I will be legally married.”

As he was wont to do, Adam beamed brightly at the reminder of their soon-to-be wedded state, and the reaction brought answering smiles to every other face.

 A few minutes went by and they watched as one, then two, then three other couples were called ahead of them to enter what appeared to be some sort of atrium. The last step before the weddings would commence.

“It’s almost time!” Donny Crawford said with a sunny grin that matched his brother’s. “Are you excited?”

“I am,” Adam agreed. “This probably won’t take more than a couple of minutes, but the butterflies are doing an anticipatory conga line inside my stomach.”

His father chuckled and wrapped one long arm around his younger son’s back, gently gripping Adam’s neck and giving it an affectionate little shake. “As someone who had almost given up on the possibility of this day, seeing my eldest son back among us, alive and well and standing up to marry the love of his life, I have to say that I’m experiencing a few butterflies myself. Though mine seem to have centered a little higher.”

He tapped his breastbone and Adam nodded. “Me too, Dad. Me too. And it means the world that all of you came out to share this day.”

“We wouldn’t have missed it, sweetheart,” his grandmother said, reaching across the narrow aisle to pat her grandson’s knee in affection. “Your father is right. It’s a true miracle that you’re here, nearly yourself again, and embarking on the finest adventure any two people can ever take together. Assuming they’re the right two people, of course, and I have no doubt that you two are right. I feel blessed to be gaining another grandson, and after what I witnessed this morning, I feel even more sure that you’ve found your true partner in life.”

Kurt blushed as everyone looked at him with proud and loving eyes, but he refused to allow himself to shrink back or deflect the compliment in his usual instinctive fashion. What these wonderful people felt for him was as real, as genuine, as the similar feelings he felt for all of them. “Thanks, June.”

“And we feel the same way about Adam,” Carole added, looking at her new step-son-in-law with affectionate eyes. “His bravery and resourcefulness and strength are a perfect match for Kurt’s. Without each other, I don’t believe either of you would be standing here today, and neither of these families would be whole, never mind as happy as we are now.” She smiled at her son, not even seeing the discrepancy in the blue eyes that looked back at her with such profound love and joy. They were all becoming more accustomed to the duality of Finn and Sam with every passing moment, and “Fam” seemed surprisingly at ease with their new state.

“I’m just happy to be here today,” Finn said simply, giving Kurt and Adam a bright grin. “I’m happy to be anywhere, actually. And in a little while, we’re all going to an awesome party, and then I get to go back and see Lima again, thanks to you. Life is good, brothers.”

“Hear, hear!” Celeste seconded, taking Finn, who was sitting next to her, by the hand and giving it a little squeeze.

Mercedes and Kurt exchanged a significant glance when the young man blushed at the contact and squeezed her hand back before letting go with visible reluctance. It seemed someone had developed a hard and fast crush on Adam’s lovely younger sister. The question was, were the feelings coming from Sam, or from Finn? Was Finn destined for yet another long-distance relationship, or was this just a reaction to having a pretty girl flirt with him, however unintentionally, after a long absence?  

Either way, this was not a situation that Kurt felt up to worrying about just yet, especially since Adam did not appear to have taken any notice of it. And either way, Kurt was glad to see that Mercedes didn’t seem to be upset at the sight of her ex-boyfriend – or his body at any rate – making eyes at another girl. Thankfully, it appeared that his best friend had moved on when she left the city of New York.

After a few more minutes, their number was called again and the wedding party moved into the atrium, standing there for a short while as the couple ahead of them were having their ceremony. Then they were ushered into a “chapel”, really just a largish room with benches on either side and a podium at the front. It was decorated in rainbow artwork that made the two grooms grin at each other. It was a perfect setting.

Everyone took their places. Kurt and Adam joined hands in front of the podium, behind which a middle aged woman in a black suit dress waited, and Elliott and Donny stood at their sides. Everyone else took seats on the padded benches.

 The officiant was plump and gray haired, with kind dark eyes and a grandmotherly air. In spite of the assembly-line of weddings she had doubtless been performing all day, she seemed to be enjoying the moment and smiled warmly at the young couple. She glanced down at the paperwork they had presented, verifying their names before beginning, “Ladies and Gentlemen, family and friends, welcome. We gather here today to witness the joining of Adam Crawford and Kurt Hummel in the union of marriage. This is a contract to be entered into thoughtfully and seriously, with a full realization of the obligations and responsibilities therein.”

 After the ornate rituals, and emotional grandeur of their Joining ceremony, followed by the drama of Kurt’s venture into the Void, both grooms were glad that they had opted for a simple wedding, yet as she spoke those words they nodded to one another, both very conscious of the magnitude of this moment, and how lucky they were to be having it after the long journey that had led them here.

“Do you, Adam, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

 Adam squeezed the hands he held and said firmly, “I do.”

 “And do you, Kurt, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

 Eyes shining, Kurt said, “I do.”

 “And will you now exchange rings as a symbol of your love and commitment to each other?”

 Adam accepted the band his brother handed to him. The actual wedding rings were as much a match as the Joining bands had been, a unique design that was Adam’s personal contribution to this grand day. His grandmother had taken his design to a jeweler she knew and trusted in London, and brought back the result; slim but well crafted white-gold bands with black tungsten borders, each etched with fine Celtic runes that were highlighted by a pair of tiny diamonds that had been transferred from the settings of his and Kurt’s mothers’ engagement rings. Burt and Bethany – who had inherited her mother’s wedding-set - had both been happy to donate the stones once they discovered what Adam intended.

The new rings were a lovely complement to the delicate silver rings they already wore and Adam smiled at this sight of as he slipped the new addition onto Kurt’s long slender ring finger, then repeated after the officiant. “As a sign of my love, to show the world that I have chosen you above all others; with this ring, I thee wed.”

 Kurt accepted the matching symbol from Elliott and placed it upon Adam’s hand, also smiling at the sight of the two rings nestled together on his finger. “As a sign of my love, to show the world that I have chosen you above all others; with this ring, I thee wed.”

The Officiant smirked and the two grooms and their Best Men chuckled when Burt and Henry both pulled out hankies and treated the room to a thunderous double honk of emotion.

“On that note,” the woman said with a grin. “By the power vested in me by the city, county, and state of New York, it is my pleasure to pronounce you husband and husband! You may kiss the groom.”

Family and friends applauded noisily as Kurt and Adam exchanged their very first kiss as a married couple.  

The Officiant shook hands with both young men, congratulating them, and then they were swept up in a flurry of hugs and kisses from their families.

 “Well,” Adam said, grinning as Kurt passed through the gauntlet of teary squeezes and was finally returned to his side where they kissed again with resounding enthusiasm, “That was easy! How do you feel, husband?”

 Kurt laughed. “Like it’s going to take me a little while to get used to hearing that word and knowing it’s real.” He held up his left hand, admiring the new addition. “This is beautiful, Adam. I know I said so when you first showed it to me, but it practically screams ‘envy me my gorgeous and intelligent husband’.”

 Adam kissed him on the side of his face, holding his own hand next to Kurt’s. “Well, if that’s so then this one definitely says, ‘luckiest man on earth’. Or maybe just the happiest one.”

 It didn’t make sense that Kurt should suddenly feel more important now than he had fifteen minutes ago, but he did. Signing the legal paperwork and going through the wedding ceremony had given him the sense of accomplishment and completion. After all of the false starts, endless doubts, and painful disillusion of his relationship with Blaine, this moment, and his complete certainty of its rightness, felt like the sweetest of victories.

 Recognizing that the officiant had other couples impatiently waiting for their own turn to see her, Kurt and Adam led their families out of the office and back to the street. The government building had too many security cameras, and the street outside was becoming too crowded to risk traveling by magic, so Elliott pulled out his phone and called up the biggest ride-share vehicle he could find. 

Everyone squeezed into the new ride, June generously offering to pay Elliott back for the service, and headed to the Vogue Ballroom.

~*~*~*~*~

As they walked toward the reception hall, Kurt put out a feeler, pleased to note the presence of a powerful ward that obliged by parting to admit their group as each individual or couple pressed their little silver key into the waiting heart-shaped box next to the door. The ward instantly slammed shut behind them once everyone was through, telling him that the complicated spell he had crafted was working perfectly.

 A quick blink of Sight showed that the room was also properly webbed by a series of interlinked spells grounded from centerpiece to centerpiece.

 For a moment, Kurt felt extremely proud of his work. Then he forgot all about it as he and Adam were swept into the room on a tidal wave of hugs, kisses, handshakes, back-slaps, and a cacophony of congratulations. 

Everyone they’d invited who had possibly been able to come on such relatively short notice was here. All of the coven, Maggie Banks, Janice Ugambe, Isabelle Wright, Chase Madison, Sue Sylvester, Mike Chang and his new girlfriend, Artie Abrams, Unique Adams, friends from the Spotlight diner, a few more from Adam’s home town, Apples both old and new, Troy, Dale, at least two dozen friends from NYADA, and even, somewhat to Kurt’s shock, Will and Emma Schuester.  

 Kurt had hesitated to invite the latter couple, considering how painfully short-sighted his former Glee teacher had been in dealing with those gifted in non standard (or Standard) ways, and the help that wild-witch Will had unwittingly (he hoped) given to Blaine. Yet he had not wanted to start this new chapter of his life holding a grudge, either, and it had felt rude to exclude the man after he had been invited to both of his former instructor’s wedding attempts with Emma. 

 She had ultimately been the deciding factor. Kurt had always liked quiet, quirky, sweet hearted Miss Pillsbury, who was not always successful in her attempts at helping students, but was one of the few authority figures at McKinley who genuinely gave a damn about them all. She had done her best to make sure that Kurt always knew he had someone in his corner, and he would always be grateful for the care she had shown him when his father was hospitalized with a heart-related coma. That alone was worth an invitation.

 Besides, it was clear from the Schuesters’ demeanor, hugging the breath out of him and then prattling on about how proud they were, how great he looked, and how nice it was to meet Adam, all with nary an awkward mention of Kurt’s last engagement; that they also wanted to move forward. Kurt was not quite sure if he should feel grateful or annoyed by this, but he ultimately just slipped an extra layer of warding around his inner walls to protect him from any Random influence that Mr Schue might potentially project his way – indicating for Adam to do the same – and decided to enjoy the attention without searching for a hidden agenda.

 Besides, Mr. Shue really was clueless enough to think they’d all had a happy-happy-joy-joy experience together, so he might as well let someone live happily in the past while Kurt moved forward into a much better and brighter future.  

For his part, Adam simply satisfied himself with an eyebrow twitch that was worth a thousand words to Kurt’s experienced eye, then graciously smiled and shook hands with the two teachers, thanking them for coming to celebrate the big day, then moving on by inquiring after the little sibling that the Schuesters’ son Danny was clearly expecting, from the prominent bulge at the front of Emma’s adorable peach-colored dress. The proud parents shared that they were expecting a daughter in just over three months, and Kurt had to physically stop himself from rolling his eyes when he heard that Will wanted to name the child Rachel. Emma clearly wasn’t entirely on board with that idea, from her uncomfortable facial expression, so Kurt knew that he was not alone in questioning the appropriateness of naming one’s child after a favorite ex-student.

They made their way through a few more well-wishers. Isabelle Wright nearly strangled Kurt with the enthusiasm of her hug, making him laugh even as he hugged her back. For such a tiny woman, she had a lot of power!  She hugged Adam too, beaming at them both as she wished them a long and happy life together.

The newlyweds took center stage on the large dance floor in the middle of the room when One Three Hill took to the stage, with Santana, Brittany, Mercedes, and Sebastian joining them as guest singers. 

Kurt and Adam first stepped into the arms of their proudly beaming fathers and did a simple box-step around the floor with them while their friends sang the Rod Stewart classic “Forever Young”. By the time they reached the lyric ‘When you finally fly away, I’ll be hoping that I served you well’, both of the older men were unable to stop tears from running down their proudly smiling faces, and by the time the song ended, each dancing couple had taken a stance that was little more than a tight, vaguely shuffling embrace. 

Then Henry and Burt handed their sons off to one another and the song changed. To the surprise of both grooms, Monica and Sebastian pulled out a pair of electric violins, nodded to one another, and began playing a gorgeous accompaniment to their friends’ serenade of the Etta James classic, “At Last”.

Dashing at his weeping eyes with one sleeve of his handsome so-deep-blue-it-was-nearly-black suit, Kurt smiled at his husband. “I don’t care if everyone on the planet told us this song was overused for weddings,” he said with a sniffle. “It’s perfect and I love it.”

“Agreed,” Adam said, sighing happily at the lovely music as he gracefully danced his beloved around the floor beneath the artificial starry night sky. “I didn’t know any of our friends played violin. Did you ask them to?”

“No, I didn’t know either,” he admitted. “Elliott told me he had a surprise for us and I’m guessing this is it. I knew Monica played a couple of other instruments besides piano, but I’ve never heard her. And Elliott and Sebastian must have gotten even closer than I realized for him to have convinced Sebastian to play for us. The guy I knew in high school used to insult singing groups who ‘needed’ instruments. Probably because New Directions usually had an accompanist. The idea that he played one, or maybe more than one, never occurred to me.”

 Adam chuckled. “Somehow that sounds about right. Either way, it’s lovely and I must remember to pass along my compliments to them both.”

As the music changed again and other couples began filing onto the dance floor, Kurt and Adam moved themselves to one side to continue under less of a spotlight, only to turn and suddenly find themselves face to face with Sue Sylvester.

Sue simply looked at them for a few seconds, seeming to note every bit of them from the bones outward, and both young men felt as if they were held in the grip of a force-field, unable to move. Whatever she saw seemed to satisfy the woman, for she stepped forward, breaking the spell by crushing Kurt in an unexpected embrace, then punching him in the shoulder hard enough to knock him a little off balance. She shook Adam’s hand and said, “Porcelain is a good kid, one of my finest. Appreciate how lucky you are to have him, don’t screw this up, and for god’s sake lay off the hair gel! Now, which way is the bar?”

Adam mutely pointed behind and to the left and Sue stalked off without another word. He self-consciously touched his hair, which had indeed been gelled lightly to give it a tidy appearance to go with his formal wedding suit. “Too much?”

Kissing him somewhat apologetically, Kurt smiled. “Just right. Don’t mind Sue. She’s just … like that.”

He laughed. “I noticed that when we met before, but I must admit that her manner takes some getting used to. I also hadn’t expected anyone to show up for a wedding reception in a bright orange track suit.”

Kurt laughed with him. “Yeah. She’s like that too. You learn to love her.”

“Well, as long as she continues to love you,” Adam said, dropping an affection kiss on Kurt’s nose as his arms came to circle his new husband’s slender waist, “She’s all right in my book.”

Kurt smiled. “She likes you too. You’d have noticed if she didn’t, trust me.” He broke off, making a pleased sound when Adam danced him closer to the buffet tables and he spotted a tall tiered tray of pastries, including a stack of white-frosted, heart-speckled miniature vanilla cupcakes that had been arranged artfully around the tall wedding cake that Johnny’s uncle had delivered as promised. Brittany had Conjured the little cupcakes just for Kurt, knowing how much he loved them, and Kurt showed his appreciation by snagging a few and taking turns eating them and feeding them to his beloved after they had paused to gain everyone’s attention and cut a small ritual slice out of the wedding cake, posing for a few photos taken by the photographer that Artie had found for them. 

“How are you feeling?” Kurt asked an hour later. It was the first time he’d had a chance to ask. After the cake photos, they had been pulled aside to pose under the graceful silver and blue archway for several more shots, both by themselves and with a variety of family and friends. They had done a bit more grazing through the buffet, and enjoyed a few more dances, well wishes, and toasts. While they hadn’t been able to arrange a formal dinner, given the short space of time this building was reserved, their guests had not seemed to mind. They had been approaching the live microphone between trips to the buffet and expressing good wishes when and as the spirit moved them. “Is the crowd bothering you at all?”

 Adam looked surprised. “You know, actually it isn’t,” he said, in a wondering tone. “For the first time since my rescue, I don’t think I’ve been afraid or uncomfortable even once today. Not when we were outside, or after we arrived here. I’m not sure if it’s because we’ve been completely surrounded by loved ones all day, or if your excellent warding has given me a sense of protection, or if this morning’s rituals have finally pulled me past the threshold of my fears, but I feel entirely relaxed.”

Kurt’s eyes were shining as he heard this news. “Oh, Adam, that’s wonderful. I knew you’d been doing better, because I haven’t felt any panic attacks from you in several days, but I was sure that between opening the Void this morning and being surrounded by so many people this afternoon, you’d be climbing the walls. I’m so proud of you!”

He grinned a little sheepishly. “So am I, actually.” He kissed Kurt lightly. “But since we both know that I wouldn’t be anywhere near this state if not for you and all of your excellent care over these past few months, let me just say thank you and that I love you with all of my heart.”

“I love you too, Adam,” Kurt said, heart in his eyes. “So much.”

A sparkle of mischief entered Adam’s eyes. “However, even if I am feeling in tip top shape, I wouldn’t object to a little fib if you want to claim that the crowd is overwhelming me and that we need some quiet time.”

Kurt laughed. “Why Mister Crawford, are you trying to get an early start on our honeymoon weekend?”

“That’s Crawford-Hummel to you, sir,” he teased back,“and I most certainly am! It’s half three already. Our hotel should be ready for check in by now.”

Grinning, Kurt said, “Let’s make one more round to thank everyone and say goodbye. I want to check on Finn and make sure he’s doing okay, since we won’t see him again before my family heads back to Ohio tomorrow. Then we’ll ask Santana to give us a quick trip home to grab our overnight bags.”

 “And then?” Adam asked archly, raising an eyebrow.

“And then,” he purred, “you and I will take a cab over to that gorgeous hotel suite your grandma reserved for our wedding gift, and I will have my wicked way with you, and you will have yours with me, for the next 48 hours.”

He punctuated his promises with kisses until Adam looked almost dizzy with joyful anticipation. “Why my darling husband, I do believe that you’re casting a spell over me.”

 Kurt grinned. “I certainly hope so.”

 The End