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deniigi · 5 years

Note

I had a really bad day (I wont say why because I wouldnt want you to feel like I'm guilting you into anything) and I was wondering if maybe you had a dfv/lfv or inimitable verse drabble you havent put up or one on here you really like you could point me to (navigation is hard on mobile) or even just some like hcs. If not its totally ok! You dont owe me anything. But I thought I'd ask and see if that's ok.

Oh no!

Sorry that you had a rough day my dear. I don’t have much in the works for those verses right now (I’ve been hammering my head against a wall, trying to write out a piece exploring Gwen and Murderdock’s relationship–it’s not working tho, so I’m stopping). Of course any of the Clint-based pieces are fun in those verses if you need a pick me up, but I am equally fond of Chapter 13 of Sidebars.

But! If you don’t mind a little piece from Lying by Omission/The Sprawl I’ve got cute little bit of Jack and Ben going out to dinner with Matt and Peter?

I’ll put it under the cut if you’re down

—-

“Dad, let’s go out to eat.”

Jack didn’t trust that. Jack had been scarred by the durian. Permanently scarred. He was never coming back from the durian. He was etching a durian with a big ‘X’ through it into the top of his next coffin for future archaeologists to find and have absolutely no questions about.

Matt, sensing that he was presently not receiving the amount of attention that he could be receiving, oozed out of the kitchen and draped himself over the back of the couch, right behind Jack’s shoulders. Jack glanced to the side and noted that he was wearing shoes.

He wasn’t chancing it.

“No shoes on the couch,” he said.

“It’s my couch,” Matt hummed, already migrating over to the couch’s arm, no doubt to burrow his way under Jack’s own arm.

“It’s a couch.”

“My couch,” Matt hummed, plucking Jack’s phone out of his hand and tossing it callously to the other side of said couch. He then executed the burrow and wriggled himself over so that he was the sole occupant of Jack’s lap. He waited, as sweet as could be, until he had Jack’s more or less undivided attention.

The kid was heavy. Jack couldn’t tell if he knew just how heavy he was.

He suspected that he was more than aware of it.

Matt beamed at him. He did not pull his shoed feet over the couch’s arm.

A sign of obedience. Or perhaps a buttering-up technique.

Tricky, tricky.

“Why do we need to go out to eat? What’s wrong with what’s in the fridge?” Jack asked Matt’s untrustworthy grin.

It faded a little because there was a pout which needed doing.

“I’m tired of eating potatoes,” Matt huffed.

“Take it back,” Jack scolded him. “I won’t hear any raggin’ on tatties in this household.”

“I want rice.”

“I’ll make you rice, Matty.”

“I don’t want your rice.”

Picky little shit. Just like his mother. She’d been the type to refuse a peanut butter and jelly sandwich if the slop wasn’t equally distributed.

Jack’s rice was perfectly fine. It even had bits of onion in it. If he was feeling real fancy, he might even cook it in broth or something.

“Fine, so make rice yourself,” he said. Matt squirmed up and wrapped arms around Jack’s neck. He put his cheek against it and immediately made the skin there it itch.

“You need a shave,” Jack huffed, reaching back for his phone. Vanessa was doing battle with her replacement: Bella the cat. She was giving their zombie group the play by play of the her and the cat’s opposing campaigns to win Wade’s favor. Thus far, Bella had broken a plate and gotten scratchies and kisses for it. Vanessa was outraged.

It was an outrage to behold.

“Daddy.”

Not this again. This was no reason to bring out the big guns.

“Get your shoes,” Matt whined.

“Baby, you can go out. I’m not stopping you from going out. No one is stopping you from going out, god help us,” Jack told him.

Matt abandoned his neck, stretched out, quick as a whip, and snatched the phone on the other cushion. He crammed it into his shirt and then replaced himself and his face-broom against Jack’s pulse point.

Yeah.

Yeah, Jack didn’t know what he’d expected to happen here.

“Matt,” he warned.

“Dinner.”

“The last time we went to dinner, you broke my heart, soul, and trust.”

“I won’t do it again.”

“Uh-huh. Yeah, right. ”

“I won’t,” Matt promised, pulling back to add puppy eyes to the mix.

That was unfair. Uncalled for. Totally underhanded.

“Why don’t you go out with Foggy?” Jack tried as a last-ditch effort.

“Because I want to go out with you,” Matt emphasized. “My pops. My old man. We gotta bond. It’ll make me more well-adjusted. The internet says so.”

Jack was confiscating the internet. The internet was a know-it-all snitch.

“DAD.”

“Fine, for fuck’s sake, boy. Get off, you’re drowning me here.”

Jack would go out to dinner on one condition.

Two conditions actually.

1) There was to be no durian. Anywhere. At all.

2) He got to bring moral support.

Matt was more than cool with that because it meant that he could replace the durian with another creative element which would equally torture Jack.

So Jack asked Ben Parker to come along. Parker was sharp as a tack. Compared to Jack, he was a man of the world. A reasonable and sensitive body with respect for his fellow humans. He promised to help Jack identify potential threats to his person flung his way by his uncaring and mischievous son.

Unfortunately, to that end, Matt insisted that they take Ben’s nephew, Peter, out with them too.

Jack knew from the start that this was Matt inserting his chaos element into what might otherwise be a perfectly tolerable and uneventful night out. But he also held out hope that Peter would be the sweet, kind-hearted boy he appeared to be.

It really was too much to ask for.

Peter latched his whole body onto Matt within seconds of their two parties meeting up and the two of them immediately set to whispering which bode poorly for everyone else involved.

“I believe we may have made a mistake,” Ben observed, rubbing thoughtfully at his chin.

Matt wanted rice and Peter wanted something sour enough to leave ulcers in his mouth, so the two of them decided that Thai food would achieve both of these effects. Jack was suspicious. Ben told him that Thai food was very tasty and he had little reason to fear, except.

Except.

“Peter hates durian, it’s fine, he won’t be setting up any conspiracies around it,” Ben promised him.

Mm.

They’d see about that.

Foggy had said something similar when he and Matt had dragged Jack out for Filipino food.

Jack was pretty sure that Peter just wanted a lime. He was 90% sure that all Peter’s cravings could be satisfied with a lime right now.

Matt, however, in an unlikely turn of events, convinced him that he should get food-substances to accompany his burning desire for limes. Peter grumbled at this and deferred to his uncle for support in the face of this logic.

Chaos element, located.

“Pick a carb,” Ben directed.

“Sugar is a carb,” Peter argued.

“Pick a carb in a less refined form,” Ben countered easily.

“If it’s raw sugar, it—”

“Veg, noodles, or rice,” Ben offered him.

Peter scowled.

“You said a carb,” he pouted. “I want sugar.”

“I have good news for you, sweet child of mine,” Ben said fondly. “There is sugar in everything served in the United States of America. You will have your sugar. Pick its structure: veg, noodles, or rice.”

Ben made Jack feel like a shit dad sometimes. Although, to be fair, Jack hadn’t been a dad as long as Ben had.

Peter, outwitted and bitter about it, agitated Matt to help him.

Matt saw no need for that.

“You’re gonna be hungry in an hour and then you’re gonna whine about it,” he declared.

Peter scowled at him and then turned his lethal puppy eyes onto Jack. Jack set up a menu between the two of them because he was not strong enough to cope with that.

Peter whined behind it.

Things were going too smoothly for too long. Jack did not trust the decent behavior happening at this table. Ben got a kick out of his paranoia, which was great because someone needed to.

“What are you hiding?” Jack asked Matt. Matt scoffed.

“Chill, old man,” he said. “We’re literally just having dinner. Maybe try to have a good time, huh?”

No.

Something evil was afoot.

Peter snickered. Matt swatted at him; he easily dodged the hand.

Trouble.

Dinner was eaten and paid for and Jack eventually gave up and settled down. Begrudgingly, he had to admit that Matt was right. Thai food was nice. No incidents had occurred. There was no durian. Ben and Peter made for good conversation, even if everything led back to Peter’s obsession with sci-fi films.

Ben told him that if he kept mentioning them, the aliens would hear him and his name would start to move up higher up on their list of potential captures.

The kid was horrified.

Matt helpfully started counting off the number of times Peter had mentioned aliens in the last week and Peter had briefly looked like he was going to cry.

“Is your wife not going to hear of this?” Jack asked Ben as they walked after the trouble duo who had determined that they were finding dessert at a different location. They seemed to know what they were after, so Jack and Ben left them to it.

“Oh, she will,” Ben said.

“And you don’t mind?”

“She encourages it. She’s convinced him that if you leave a tv on static, aliens can pick up on your watch history.”

Interesting parenting techniques going on here.

Ben laughed.

“Well, I guess we just figure that if you’ve got a weird kid, it’s easier on everyone if you just lean into it. My brother probably wouldn’t be so down with it, but he’s not here, so whatever.”

Ah, right.

“Peter’s your brother’s son, then,” Jack noted.

Ben hummed.

“I…guess,” he said uneasily. “I—it’s hard to explain. I mean, biologically, yeah he’s Rich’s son. But, you know, me and May’ve raised him for longer than Rich and Mary were ever in his life, so, I dunno. Is it fucked up that I kind of think of him as my son?”

No. Not at all.

“My eldest brother pretty much raised me,” Jack told him. “My mama couldn’t be assed to do anything more than scream at the drop of a hat and my daddy was busy drinking himself to death, so Bill was the one who got me up and dressed and off to school in the morning. I always thought of him as a mix between a brother and a mom.”

“No shit?” Ben said. “Where is he? He still around?”

Uuuuuuuh.

“We haven’t talked for a long time,” Jack said.

“Oh? Well, now’s your chance you know.”

Jack tried not to wince too sharply. Ben caught it anyways.

“Or not,” he said. “You don’t have to if its painful or something.”

Oh, buddy.

“We’ll see,” Jack decided. “I’ll need to think about it.”

He didn’t know how Matt would react. Hell, he didn’t know how he would react to seeing Bill again.

Matt and Peter presented Jack with a drink that had evil hiding in the bottom of it.

He should have known better to think he’d escape that night uninjured.

–

I hope this cheers you up my dear and that things get easier for you soon!

#fic #jack murdock #matt murdock #ben parker #I need to do smth for the sprawl for real #ficlet

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cuddlecave · 3 years

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Smth in line with the touch starved Gordn asks a while back.

Imagine Ben noms Gordn without explanation, intending to give him the contact he desperately needs, but Gordn doesn't understand. Ben doesn't tell him what's going on, just pulls him inside for cuddles.

Gord goes still relatively quickly. It's partly out of shock/despair, but also due to a weird, dreamlike feeling in his mind like "this can't be real. There's no way this is actually happening, right? I have to be dreaming..."

When Gordn doesn't fight and struggle, Ben assumes all is well, that Gordn accepts the cuddles, so he starts purring happily. The purr reinforces the dream feeling, Gordn has never heard Ben purr before, so this has to be fake. Sure the guard is not human, but he's never purred. So Gordn remains still, waiting to "wake up." The flesh walls squeezing against him settle him in further, glowing in pink and blue and teal patterns that lull him into real sleep.

Ben returns to the team, proudly stating that he fixed Gordn and things were better now. They go "oh that's great! You talked things out?" And Ben says "nah, we didn't need to talk, I just ate him for some sweet sweet snuggle time."

Harold and Bubs probably just nod along like that makes perfect sense, but Tom has some concerns.

"You did talk to him right? You told him what you were doing?"

"uuuuh, no? I just swallowed him and he went all boneless, no fussing or anything."

"Ben! You need to spit him out!"

"wuh? but you said he needs cuddles."

"Humans don't cuddle like that! He won't know you're trying to help!"

"but he isn't yelling like he usually does, that's good, right?"

"He's probably scared right now, you need to tell him it's safe, he won't know on his own."

Gordn has been drifting in and out if consciousness, kept in a half-sleep state by the warmth and soothing noises, but also pulled back to wakefulness by the occasional spike of dread and uncertainty. The sound of voices from outside, and Ben's own words rumbling around him, start to wake him properly, especially when one voice grows loud and alarmed. The chamber around him squeezes inward, and the wavering dream feeling starts to give out.

Ben hacks him up rather gracelessly, and he sprawls out on the ground, surrounded by concerned friends. Even Ben looks worried, and apologetic, and Tom leans forward to shake his shoulder, asking if he's alright.

Gordn looks bewildered, squinting in the sudden light, mind fuzzy from the weirdest nap of his life, limbs shaky and uncooperative. He manages only one phrase, distressed and confused.

"What the Fuck?"

bro i am LOOKING

#security snacking #inbox ficlette

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whatmack · 4 years

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are your fic/snippet requests open? if so, can i ask for something about kevin just... being nb? maybe like a dysphoric day or smth i really don't have a preference just.... i Need more enby kevin content oops

One would think, dating two people, that the time required to finagle everyone out the door for a date would be increased by only 50%. One would be wrong. Jeremy, California-bred, was much better about the fluid nature of temporal plans when considering three busy atheletes each with a tendency to hyperfocus. Jean had made as much of his peace with it as he could by mentally changing the expected timeframe to be two or more hours further along than the agreed-upon.

“Almost ready?” He called, loud enough for Kevin to hear through the door of the bedroom. It was forty minutes until departure could be expected, which meant Jean needed to check-in. He’d do another in ten minutes. The muffled response from Kevin was more about the routine than any real new information. Jean returned to his book. Renee had taken to gifting him Sudoku from around the world instead of sending a standard postcard. The little bump of pride Jean got from completing a puzzle helped make waiting in the endless lines of LA more bearable. Jeremy was sprawled across the couch, video game controller in hand, his blazer already off and his shirt already wrinkled. He looked good anyway, which was equal parts frustrating and enjoyable. The toe of his left shoe nudged Jean’s thigh every time he jolted forward to make his player character shoot, because Jeremy Knox never did anything but for with his whole body. Jean let himself smile, knowing Jeremy was too absorbed in his game to see it, and tapped his pen against the laces of Jeremy’s perpetually-scuffed oxford while he considered the placement of his most recent 6.

Nine minutes and thirty-three seconds later, Jeremy groaned and threw his hands up into the air, withdrawing his foot to stomp it on the carpet. In his peripheral vision Jean could see the flashing red from the tv screen that signified Jeremy’s character had died. Instead of restarting, Jeremy set the controller down and stood, lacing his fingers behind his back to stretch. “I gotta pee.” Jean raised his pen in absentminded acknowledgement. He tilted his cheek into the kiss Jeremy dropped there on his way to the bedroom door, the spot of warmth a familiar spark of comfort after three years of kisses chaste and not. Jeremy ambled through to the master bathroom, forgetting to close the bedroom door behind him as he always did; Kevin and Jean had shared many a meaningful glance about it. “No, just bathroom, I’ll be out in a sec,” Jean heard Jeremy say to Kevin. Jean scratched out a 9 and put a 2 in its place. That would mean the square underneath it had to be-- “Oh, nice earrings,” Jeremy’s voice said.

Jean looked up. He couldn’t see into the bathroom-- not from the couch-- but Jeremy’s tone had been the one he adopted when he was trying with all his might to be chill about something. Kevin’s answer was an inaudible murmur, and Jean found himself sitting up straight and craning his ear to listen. Kevin had gotten hir ears pierced a few months ago, and had been hiding the fact from most media outlets with a series of stickers, clear retainers, and careful haircuts. Jean hadn’t known why sie had bothered if sie didn’t seem to be ready to acknowledge it, but had known better than to poke too hard at the question. If Kevin was wearing earrings now, however, that meant sie was planning to wear them to the restaurant. That was, out. In public. With them. Jean’s foolish heart beat a little faster. Ten-oh-one minutes. “Kev, we have reservations,” Jean said, trying not to sound out of breath. “Hurry it up.” “Stop being an asshole,” Kevin called back. But Jean heard hir socked footsteps move inside the bedroom, coming towards the door. Jean forced himself to take a moment to settle his features into neutrality. “I’m not the one who held us up getting to the dog show last week,” Kevin said, striding out into the living room and crossing behind the couch to the kitchen. Sie was moving with hir usual purpose, but Jean saw the slight tremble in hir hands, the too-jerky way sie reached into the fridge for hir recyclable water bottle. Against the soft skin of hir jaw dangled two strings of pink gemstone, linked together in such a way that they followed the motion of hir head as sie moved. Jean stood up, tucking his Sudoku book under his arm, and went to collect his own water bottle. He intercepted Kevin’s chin and held it between his thumb and forefinger, examining the earrings. Kevin was blushing and trying to pretend sie wasn’t. “Those look beautiful,” Jean said quietly. He could feel the tension under his fingertips as Kevin tried not to pull away, to hide. “I just-- saw them. And. It was a charity thing, you know. Children’s cancer. I had to buy something.”

“Of course.” “Weren’t you saying we’re going to be late?” “We’ve got a little bit of time,” Jean said. He tilted Kevin’s face to the side and kissed gently under hir ear. The earring tickled the side of his nose. Kevin’s hands automatically went to Jean’s waist. Hir pulse was jittering. “He’s right,” Jeremy said. He had finished in the bathroom while Jean was admiring Kevin’s new shine and was shaking water droplets off his hands onto the kitchen floor. His grin was as bright as the jewelry was. “They’re really nice, Kev. You look good.” “Stop standing around,” Kevin said, snappish with embarrassment. Jean could taste the heat of hir blush, an answering flutter beating in his chest. Jeremy’s grin turned sly. He stepped closer. “Sure thing, hon,” Jeremy purred, and slid a still-wet hand into Kevin’s hair to pull hir mouth to his. They made the reservations. Jean was used to this sort of thing, after all. He’d alloted time for it.

#kerejean #kevin day #jean moreau #jeremy knox #GO GO GO KEVIN YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY #YOU'RE LOOKING FINE ON THIS BEAUTIFUL DAY #dykeacademias #my fics #'person wears thing that theyre nervous about and partners go buckwild for it' is my favorite thing #trans person: slowly starts to introduce elements into their wardrobe that make them feel gender validated #me: kardashian_photo_you're_doing_amazing_sweetie.meme

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lovelyshawnn · 4 years

Text

Hufflepuff! Shawn x Slytherin Reader Prologue

a/n: hi guys! this is just smth ive been thinking about but i wasnt sure if anyone would be interested in reading smth like this so pls leave some feedback & maybe ill continue it ?? ty loves!

“Confused, are we?” I said with a smirk on my face as I plopped myself onto the library desk, sitting legs crossed and facing the confused boy.

Lifting his head from the book that he had his nose shoved into, Shawn replied with furrowed brows. “Me? Uh, yeah I guess,”

I smiled at his cute, confusion sprawled face before leaning over to read his notes. “Potions!” I beamed with joy knowing that was my favorite class, “With Professor Snape?”

“Yeah, he’s a real pain in my ass,” He gruntled while running his hands through his hair in frustration. “Well, lucky for you, Professor Snape loves me!” I took a seat beside him, pulling the parchment paper of notes closer to me, immediately skimming through the material to get a glimpse of which chapter he was on.

“How’s your mum been recently?” Shawn asked from not seeing her since last summer’s annual gala. Our parents were friends so we did see each other occasionally, but we never were very close. This may be due to the fact that we were in different houses, or because we both had a slight crush on each other and were way too nervous to talk to one another.

“She’s well. She still asks about you sometimes, ya know,” I said with my eyes still glued on the paper, “She asks if we get to see each other often.”

Shawn blushed thinking about my mom caring about him enough to ask about him, “Really? What do you say back?”

I scoffed, “I said Merlins, no. I avoid that boy like the Black Plague. His breath is unbearable!” Shawn’s face becomes an even darker shade of pink, letting out a laugh before gently pushing my shoulder away.

“You truly are an evil, evil Slytherin,” he replies, shaking his head. “Oh, stop flattering me and focus on your work, Mendes,” I replied before shoving his papers back to him.

This is how every Thursday evening went for the next couple weeks, me tutoring him in the library although we always got distracted and resorted to light banter. I was treading some dangerous territory, knowing that the more time I spent with him, the more I’d fall for him.

I was making my way back into the common rooms after one of our study sessions ran quite late when I heard a voice. “Coming back from seeing that Hufflepuff, Y/L/N?” Draco appeared from the corner with a teasing smile.

“Seems like someones got a little crush, eh?” Blaine joked along with Draco. I rolled my eyes at the group of guys that I call my friends, “He’s nice, thats all.”

“Yeah, and thats all he’ll ever be! He’s a Hufflepuff for Merlin’s sake.” Draco scoffed at what he deemed the most inferior house of all.

“Well, I think it’s quite cute,” Pansy perked up. “Cute? Well alright, let’s make this fun. I dare you to ask him out on a proper date. I bet two weeks and you’d get bored of bloke,” Draco proposed with a confident smirk.

Deep down I knew it was wrong accepting this dare, especially because I knew I had feelings for Shawn. But the stubbornness and the need to prove Draco wrong was making a cunning appearance, and it was almost impossible for me to deny this silly bet. “Oh, you’re on, Malfoy,” I said as I reached out to shake his hand.

That night I laid in bed wondering what the hell I just got myself into, and how I was going to murk up the courage to ask that curly brown haired boy out tomorrow.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes au imagine #shawn mendes au #hogwarts!shawn #hogwarts!au #hufflepuff!shawn #shawn mendes fanfic

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trensu · 4 years

Text

Episode 7: The One where At Last LWJ Sees the Light

We’re still in the cave of wonders, guys, and lan yi is doing plot exposition so we’re gonna skip that

Once Lan Yi is done laying down Plot, we have this cute exchange

Lwj: elder, as your descendent i pinky promise to complete this Super Important Mission

Wwx: oh, same, me too!

Lwj: this is a LAN FAMILY MATTER and none of your business

Wwx: YOU CAN’T STOP ME FROM HELPING

Wwx: and besides, since my grandmaster was besties with your ancestor that means that it’s practically my family matter too, so there

YOU’RE ALSO MARRIED NOW GUYS, REMEMBER, SO IT’S A FAMILY MATTER EITHER WAY

And now, drumroll please…

Our beautiful boys tumble out of the cave of wonders (while still tied together!!) and crash land onto the ground, with wwx oh so conveniently sprawled on top of lwj

THAT’S RIGHT GUYS

IT’S THAT TROPE AND IT’S BEAUTIFUL

Lol lwj’s stunned face here

Wwx: I DIDN’T MEAN TO FALL ON YOU…! Oh hi jiang cheng

yep, jc’s here to ruin the moment (i love you jc, but you have horrible timing)

Wwx is so happy to see his brother, he greets him immediately and completely forgets about the fact that he and lwj are in a…compromising position

It’s adorable, really

Lwj: *glares with every ounce of Repressed Gay Rage in his body* GET UP RIGHT NOW.

Wwx: oh, right sure *totally unruffled bc he is shameless*

At this point we cut to the next scene which is still in the same place and with the same characters but now lwj has his ribbon back on his forehead

Ngl i’m kinda bummed we didn’t see him untie their wrists

It would’ve been hilarious since jc and wen qing wouldve been watching it all happen lol

like, i’m just picturing wq and jc being awkwardly silent as lwj unravels his ribbon from wwx’s wrist. wwx’s eyes would ofc be glued on lwj and he’d be babbling some inane thing or another

but we didn’t get that. oh well.

Oh, and here we find out that lwj and wwx were in that cave for one day and one night

Now that lwj is all put together again, we see wwx, jc, and wq have a conversation that i think counts as a wangxian moment

Jc and wq both start throwing questions at our boys about where they’ve been and what they were doing and all that

Lwj looks very uncomfortable about all the questions.

Lans don’t lie (supposedly; lwj is such a stickler at this point in his life he def doesn’t lie)

So wwx swoops in to ~rescue~ him!!

He answers all the questions by lying thru his teeth: oh yeah, we got lost and trapped and swam for hours and hours in an underground, waterlogged maze that definitely exists before we finally found a way out!! I almost froze to death (he says with a whine bc that’s just how he is lol)

Once he finishes answering all those questions he turns to share THE CUTEST LITTLE SECRET SMILE WITH LWJ. SO ADORABLE GUYS, HOW IS HE REAL

Lwj sees it and HAS TO LOOK AWAY

I CAN’T EVEN BLAME HIM BC IF WWX SMILED AT ME LIKE THAT (WITH HIS CUTE LITTLE BEAUTY MARK IN FULL VIEW!!) I WOULD’VE DIED.

JUST DROPPED TO THE GROUND DEAD.

IT’S TOO MUCH, IT’S TOO MUCH

Now we cut to a Plot Heavy Scene, featuring our boys and lxc and lqr, that is not relevant to this post at all EXCEPT I HAVE TO SAY OH GOD, LWJ LOOKS SO BABY-FACED HERE?? HOW?? HIS LITTLE FACE LOOKS ALL ROUNDED AND SOFT AND HIS LIPS ARE ALL POUTY. HE’S BEBY. I JUST WANT TO WRAP HIM UP IN BLANKETS AND GIVE HIM HOT CHOCOLATE

More plot discussion happens and whatever they’re talking about makes wwx bump shoulders with lwj and call him “my confidant” AKA MY SOULMATE AHHHHHHH

OH WAIT, do you know what else is important about this scene?

It shows how much taller wwx is than lwj!!! And I LOVE IT.

Lwj’s shoulders are a good two inches lower than wwx’s

WHY ISN’T THERE MORE FIC/ART SHOWING THIS??

I MEAN, THE STOIC SOLEMN CHARACTER IS SMOL AND THE SUNSHINEY CHARACTER IS GIANT. IT’S SUCH GREAT COMBINATION!!!

I think ppl in the cultivation world probs don’t realize how short lwj is bc he gives off such an intimidating aura i’m so jealous; i need to get myself an intimidating aura

Blah blah more plot, wwx promises not to tell anybody anything about the plot blah blah

Right after that, they bump into nhs who’s like, hey you guys were gone all night did anything weird happen?? (this is the guy who sneaks porn into this place on the regular, i’m pretty sure we all know what he means by “weird”)

Wwx: oooh, yeah, this super weird thing happened, let me tell you all about it

Lwj: *whips around to stare at wwx likE OMG SRSLY YOU JUST SAID YOU’D KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT*

Wwx: *proceeds to tell nhs a spooky lie about meeting a demon snake*

Nhs: *flees in terror bc he thinks snakes are scary for some reason* (they’re not, snakes are def cute critters)

Lwj: *exasperatedly rolls his eyes at wwx’s frankly amazing story-telling skills*

AND HERE WE GET TO SEE THE FIRST TIME LWJ STARES LONGINGLY AT WWX. LWJ, THIS IS GONNA BE YOUR MAIN HOBBY FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE

Wwx runs after his brother and slings a playful arm around his shoulders and walks away without a second glance to lwj

Lwj stares soulfully at him, def noticing that wwx didn’t spare him a second look (poor bb lwj)

After a moment of Soulful Staring, his lips part as he lowers his gaze to the ground and decisively turns and walks off

INTERNALLY HE’S LIKE OFC WWX WOULDN’T WANT TO SPEND TIME WITH ME SINCE I’M ALL STOIC AND REPRESSED BUT THAT’S FINE, IDC, I DIDN’T WANT TO HANG OUT WITH HIM ANYWAY

POOR LWJ!! DOESN’T THIS MAKE YOUR HEART TWINGE???

Even more plot stuff happens

But they make it worth the wait because now we get to…

THE LANTERN SCENE (PART 1)

YES, YOU HEARD RIGHT.

WWX: lwj, we should set off a lantern and make a wish together since we’ve been thru so much together now

LWJ: *pulls a batman* I work alone

WWXX: habits change!! Besides, i made this lantern specially for you~! *shows drawing of magic cave bunny on the lantern*

HERE WE GO GUYS, OMG, IT’S HAPPENING

Lwj looks at the lantern and, just, his face, ahhh, LWJ’S ENTIRE FACE GOES SOFT AND WE SEE HIM SMILE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN THE SERIES

FIRST!!

TIME!!

EVER!!!

AND IT ONLY TOOK 7 EPISODES!!

I’M DYING I’M D Y I N G

HIS LIPS PART AND THE SMILE JUST GENTLY BLOOMS ON HIS FACE, ILLUMINATING IT SOFTLY LIKE A FUCKING SUNRISE OR SMTH

FUCK IT’S JUST SO BEAUTIFUL IT’S MAKING ME POETIC

GAHHH

NO WONDER HE NEVER SMILES

THAT SMILE COULD KILL PEOPLE IN THE BEST WAY

Ofc wwx has to ruin the moment by giggling at him and saying “hey you’re smiling!!”

Okay, guys, you know and I know that wwx is giggling from joy. Like yay!! I made lan zhan smile!! I did a Good Thing!!!

He is genuinely tickled pink about making his soulmate happy!

But remember, LWJ is the King of Repressed Gays here. So, you know, the laughter in his ears sounds mocking. Because he’s a dumb boy who can’t Emotion well yet.

LWJ reacts to the giggles by immediately grabbing his sword which startles wwx into stumbling back into the group behind him and the mood is effectively ruined

But just for a little bit!!

Then ~THEIR SONG~ starts playing in the background AND THEY SEND OFF THEIR LANTERN TOGETHER, WHICH IS SOMETHING THAT GENERALLY ONLY ROMANTICALLY INVOLVED COUPLES DO

as is shown by how everyone’s trying to get jyl and jzx (aka our token heteros) to send off a lantern together

The pair of them, need i remind you, are currently betrothed (even tho that dumb peacock doesn’t deserve her)

so yeah, that’s totally not gay at all

WWX makes his wish: “I wish to always stand with justice and live without regrets”

THIS IS IT, THIS IS THE MOMENT.

THIS IS WHEN LWJ FALLS IN LOVE, I SWEAR

LWJ is watching wwx as he’s making that wish (more of an oath, really), and as soon as he hears those words, his eyes widen the way they do when someone gets hit with a life-altering realization. He’s completely thunderstruck

IT’S NOT SUBTLE GUYS

YOU CAN PRACTICALLY SEE CUPID’S ARROW STICKING OUT OF HIS CHEST (OR WHATEVER ANCIENT FANTASY CHINA EQUIVALENT THERE IS)

THAT’S IT. HE’S A GONER. THERE’S NO ONE ELSE FOR HIM NOW. NO ONE BUT WWX.

For real tho, after this moment, we really don’t see lwj be angry towards wwx like he has been. Annoyed and exasperated at him, sure, but never angry in a petty mean way like before.

It’s beautiful

The next wangxian moment isn’t nearly as intense but it happens shortly after the lantern scene

Wwx goes to beat the shit out of jzx for saying he doesn’t want to marry jyl (because jzx is a moron and definitely deserves a beat down for this insult)

Wwx and jzx are surrounded by a group of loud, flailing people

And lwj just dives right into that throng of people to get to wwx (contrast this to a scene in a later episode where he actively avoids going anywhere near a much calmer, collected group of people bc ew people)

Lwj: *grabs at wwx* stop, wei ying

Wwx: DON’T STOP ME, LAN ZHAN, IM GONNA KILL THIS GUY DEAD IS2G

Next wangxian scene takes place the following morning

Lwj is walking along minding his own business and sees wwx kneeling as punishment for the fight before

He approaches him and calls out to him.

THIS IS IMPORTANT

This is the first time we see him willingly initiate interaction with wwx. Every other time, wwx was the one to approach him first and start to pester him for attention.

BUT LOL JOKE’S ON HIM. THE FIRST TIME HE DARES TO APPROACH WWX FIRST AND HE IMMEDIATELY REGRETS IT

‘Oh hey lan zhan’ wwx responds to LWJ. ‘look at all these little ants i found on the ground!!’

‘OMG WWX YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE KNEELING TO REFLECT ON YOUR MISDEEDS NOT TO PLAY WITH ANTS. SO UNTEACHABLE’ *walks off in a huff*

Wwx is left pouting and saying ‘but the ants are so cute.’

I’M SORRY WHAT??

WHAT DID YOU SAY WWX?? ANTS ARE CUTE??

ANTS ARE NOT CUTE.

YOU, WWX, YOU ARE CUTE. ANTS ARE NOT.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU.

(i just really hate insects, guys, i would not get near them even if wwx was the one holding them)

(okay, maybe if wwx was holding them, i’d try to get near them, but idk how successful i’d be)

Blah blah more plot stuff happens, blah jin “can’t keep it in my pants* guangshan exists now blah blah

Alright so now we have the jiang clan saying their goodbyes to the lan clan since i guess Ancient Fantasy China summer school is over maybe??? Idk, point is they gotta leave.

As they leave, wwx starts to whisper at lwj “lan zhan, lan zhan, about that Plot Device…”

But gets tugged away by his fam, HOWEVER he manages to hear lxc telling lwj to be careful in that foreboding Important Plot Things Are Afoot sort of way

And wwx makes the effort to go back to talk to lwj but jc grabs him and yanks him out by the arm

Jc: are you crazy?? That guy hates you!! He must be happy you’re leaving

Wwx: LIES AND SLANDER, everyone here LOVES me

Idk about everyone, but lwj definitely loves him and jc knows nothing

now it’s THE RETURN OF WINGMAN LXC

The lan bros are watching the yunmeng sibs leave

Lxc: gosh, it’s gonna be quiet here without him, huh? (HIM, HE SAYS, NOT ‘THEM,’ HIM! BC HE TOTALLY KNOWS WHO LWJ IS ACTUALLY WATCHING)

Lwj: *looks down to the floor and refuses to answer*

Lxc: soooo…r u gonna tell him about your Super Important Mission?

Lwj: no. *walks away*

Jeez, he walks off on his big brother a lot, doesn’t he?? Rude. didn’t your parents teach you any manners? Oh wait that was an awful joke and i’m a terrible person, SORRY LWJ

AHHHHHHHHHHH WWX WITH THE BUNNIES!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL, I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

Wwx: *holding a bunny* Bunny, are you gonna be happy hiding here??

Wwx: *pretending to be the bunny* Happy!!

GUYS THIS SCENE IS JUST TOO CUTE FOR WORDS.

I REWOUND AND WATCHED IT LIKE, 3 TIMES BECAUSE THE CUTENESS WAS JUST UGH I COULDN’T RESIST.

HIS VOICE GOES ALL HIGH PITCHED THE WAY IT DOES WHEN YOU MAKE VOICES FOR YOUR PETS!! IT’S ADORABLE AHHHHH I DIE, I DIE

Wwx: maybe i should take you back to lotus pier with me…?

Wwx: hmm, no, i can’t do that. What if lan zhan gets lonely and comes here looking for you? He won’t be able to find you!!

This is literally what wwx said. Like, that was the deciding factor for not taking the bunny home.

Lan zhan might get lonely. HOW SWEET IS HE. WWX, THE SWEETEST BOY, WHO’S SO IN LOVE AND DOESN’T EVEN KNOW IT YET

Then as he’s bonding with the bunny he gets the epiphany that OMG LWJ IS GOING ON THAT SUPER IMPORTANT MISSION ALONE, WITHOUT HIM

And that’s the end of that episode.

but we got to see the EXACT MOMENT LWJ falls in love for real. And it’s BEAUTIFUL. Not to mention the we were gifted the accidentally-falling-on-top-of-each-other trope.

and we got bunnies! did i mention the bunnies and wwx being adorable together? because that happened.

Ah, this is the show that just gives and gives *wipes away tears* what did we do to deserve it?

Return to Masterpost

#WangXiantics #the untamed #wangxian #aka the second part of my valentines day gift to fandom

103 notes · View notes

ghost-ghost-baby · 5 years

Text

Yandere reactions to a s/o that’s suffering from nightmares.

a/n: lmao this is a way for me to procrastinate sleepin bc like,,, my nightmares have been real bad lately, if any of ya relate i hope this comforts ya or smth

requests: open

Izuku

Sweat clung to your body as your eyes shot open, wide and searching around in the dark room. You were shivering despite being drenched in sweat, somehow managing to untangle yourself from Izuku and make your way to the bathroom. Thank god that boy slept like the dead. You splashed cold water on your face, tired eyes mirrored back in your reflection made you flinch, you didn’t think it was that noticeable. Your hands had moved to grasp the edge of the sink, knuckles white as you tried to push images out of your head.

��Y/’n, why’re you out’f bed?” Izuku appeared next to you, half asleep and rubbing his eyes.

“It’s nothing, ‘Zuku, just a bad dream.” You were shocked at how shaken your voice was, the tone catching Izuku’s attention and waking him up immediately

“You didn’t wake me up?” A frown coats his face for only a second, “You’re so sweet Y/n! Not wanting to worry me! But you’re mine, I gotta take care of you!” The boy was crowding in your personal space, ushering you back to the bed and mumbling about what he could do to cheer you up. It was comforting, you couldn’t deny that, you’d grown to love the way he fussed over you. Izuku tucked you in, after he’d made you some warm milk, watching until you’d drank every drop. He took his place at your side, making you face him, arms wrapped tight around you, mumbling comforting enough to get you back to sleep.

Katsuki

“I told you Katsuki, I’m fine.” Your voice sounded tired even to you, and your denial only increased Katsuki’s rage.

“Like hell you are, Y/n! You look like you haven’t slept in days!” Your boyfriend was seething, and he caught the way your eyes shifted at his words.

“Y/n, fucking don’t tell me you haven’t been sleepin.” The blond stepped closer to you and your teeth dug into your lower lip, eyes refusing to settle on him. You were too tired to fight, and honestly you’d like nothing more than to just be able to lay down and sleep, but you couldn’t.

“Why? You can’t even do that fuckin’ much for yourself? You can’t even get yourself to sleep, huh?” Katsuki had backed you back against the bed, and you only shrugged in response to that. Your body dropped onto the bed, hand coming up to stifle an obnoxiously loud yawn.

“Why are you doing this to yourself, Y/n?” Katsuki’s voice cracked, your boyfriend turning away to hide how hurt he was.

“I wanna sleep, Katsu, it’s just… bad dreams.” You shrugged, biting the inside of your cheek and refusing to look at your boyfriend. A hand grasped your chin, lifting it up until your eyes were met with piercing red ones, emotions you were too tired to decipher swirling within them.

“Bad dreams? Why didn’t you tell me, it’s my job to take care of you.” He hissed, pink dusting his cheeks from how worked up he was.

“I didn’t think it was-”

“I don’t give a shit, if something is wrong, you tell me! Got it?”

“Okay Katsu, I promise.” You nodded, eyes watering as you stifled another yawn.

“Good, now you need to get some rest, I won’t leave your side.”

Shoto

You’d been distant all day, trying and failing to process the most recent of your nightmares. Shoto didn’t see that, however, all he saw was you being distant, and he didn’t like it.

“Y/n, we need to talk.” He gently took the book you’d been reading out of your hands, dual coloured eyes dark with worry. You tried to put on a happy face, despite how… torn up and disturbed you really were.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“What? Shoto, baby, no! Why would you think that?” You were the worried one now, leaning forward to clutch his hands in your own.

“You’ve been distant… and avoiding me… you do that when you’re mad?” Shoto was confused, sure he’d done something to anger you.

“No, you haven’t done anything… I’m just, thinking about stuff.” You smiled, head tilted to the side in the way Shoto adored.

“About what?”

“I… really don’t want to talk about it Sho.” You shrugged, face going dark again as what was bothering you resurfaced.

The hand on your thigh heated up, a warning you oh too easily recognised from the early days, and you were quick to explain.

“I’ve just been having some unpleasant dreams, they’re too complicated to explain but I’m okay, Shoto, really.”

“If you’re sure? I’m your boyfriend, Y/n, you should tell me if something is bothering you.”

“Of course, you’re an amazing boyfriend Sho, my dreams are just too fractured to make sense of.” You finished your sentence by pressing a kiss to his cheek, knowing Shoto was pleased when he gave your book back before cuddling up to your side.

Tamaki

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Tamaki pulled you out of your thoughts, the boy staring up at you from his favourite place, sprawled across your lap. Your hand was tangled in his hair, silky strands carded through your fingers.

“What makes you ask, Tama?” You avoided the question with practiced ease, not missing the way your boyfriend frowned at your answer.

“You’ve been acting strange, and you look tired, you don’t even nap with me anymore.” The tone he had was sad, blush covering his entire face from the confession. You didn’t say anything, brow furrowed as you thought about what you could say.

“Do you not… love me? Anymore?”

“Tama, of course I love you.” You leant down to press a kiss to his forehead, “You’re my everything.”

“Then why-”

“I’ve been avoiding sleeping, I got sick of all the nightmares I was having.” You did your best to keep your voice cool, not wanting him to worry. Tamaki shot up, knocking you back in the process and a startled noise left your mouth.

“What do you mean nightmares?” He leant over you, worry etched onto every feature.

“I’ve just been having really bad dreams lately, Tama. I didn’t mean to worry you.” You shrugged as best you could in your current situation.

“You should’ve told me, I could have helped and then you wouldn’t be as tired and-”

“Baby, calm down.” You laughed, reaching up to pat his cheek lightly. “I’m sure it’ll sort itself out soon.”

His worried expression didn’t budge, however, so you switched to something different.

“Do you wanna take a nap together?”

2K notes · View notes

sparklyicecube · 4 years

Text

Houseki No Gift Exchange - A Gamer’s Christmas

To: @diisuke

From: @sparklyicecube

Merry Christmas~

“A Rutile, nice! Here Phos, take it. You could use a boost.”

“Nah, I know you’ve been eyeing that gem for your collection anyway.”

“Phos. You have 13hp left.”

“But Moony, it’s a Rutile though, I know you wanted to get at least one of these~"

“Fine! I’ll take it.”

“Yes, take it! I know you want it.”

“It is a really amazing item though; it can heal your hp and it’s super valuable…”

“Exactly, so take it!”

“I will!”

“Phosphophylitte! Are you flirting with your Moony-chan again?” Antarcticite’s voice rang out from beyond Phos’s headset.

Phos went red from the comment, even though Moonwalkerpatrol and them decided to date they had not gotten used to it all. Antarcticite leaned down and pulled the mic of the headset to their own mouth, pressing their ear to the side of the headset.

“Hello Moonwalkerpatrol, as much as I enjoy seeing Phos spend time with other, respectable people, they do have an exam tomorrow and they need to sleep.”

“Oh, no problem, I have an exam tomorrow too. Phos watch out-! “

Antarc and Phos watched the screen flash as Phos got killed by a stray monster.

“I told you to take the Rutile.” Came Cinnabar’s amused voice. “Goodnight Phos, sweet dreams.”

(Houseki No Kuni Gift Exchange!)

“I’m going to ask to meet them today, we can meet up in real life!” Phos was skipping down the pavement on the way to school, Antarc following close behind.

“No gaming in class.” Reminded Antarcticite.

“Haiiiiiiiii.”

As they entered the classroom through the back door Phos saw Cinnabar look up at them, through their bright red hair their eyes made eye contact, Phos hid behind Antarc, hiding from Cinnabar in way any onlookers would describe as comedic.

The class was still incomplete, and students were openly talking, gossiping and laughing, Cinnabar was vaguely aware of dying in the game they were playing.

“I told you Phos hates me.” Bort looked up from the notebook they were writing in at Cinnabar’s statement.

“They don’t hate you Cinnabar,” Cinnabar looked dejectedly at their own notebook, “They’re just scared of you.” Cinnabar slumped slightly lower.

“Way to go in making me feel better.” No one in class had anything against Cinnabar, they just weren’t close to them, no one but Phos it seemed.

Bort put down their pen, a slightly guilty expression on their face. “Look, Phos just doesn’t know you well enough, which is fair since no one really does, but maybe if you make more of an effort to talk to them, they’ll like you more?”

Cinnabar thought for a while, then took their phone and opened an app, a game to be precise. “You know this game?”

Bort leaned over to look at the game. “Yeah, of course I have, you play it all the time in chemistry.”

“Well, this is the mobile version, at home I play it on my PC, but either way, I’m dating this- “

“You’re dating?!” Bort wasn’t loud enough for the whole school to hear but it certainly was loud enough for most of the class to turn around. “Sorry. They’re a real person right?”

“Yes to both, I mean, I think so. We act like we’re dating, and we say we love each other before we go offline, and we send virtual kisses, but we’ve never really said we were dating? I mean except that one time but I’m not sure whether it was a joke. Anyway. I’m 99% sure I know who I’m dating.”

“You know they could be scamming you, or catfishing you, or trying to kill you…”

“Okay one, you are paranoid, and two, look at their username!” Cinnabar pointed to the username that read: Phos3.5.

Bort slowly looked at Cinnabar, then at Phos who was sitting nearer the front trying to balance a pencil on the back of their pinkie finger, back to the username, they let out a small chuckle.

“This is funny to you isn’t it.”

“I don’t know it just seems like a cheesy drama, either way if you’ve managed to date Phos in the game you definitely can date in real life, right? I mean I don’t get your taste but if you guys are already dating it won’t be that hard. Find out whether they are really the same person though, otherwise it’ll be awkward.”

“I- “Cinnabar got cut short by their chemistry teacher coming in, Bort immediately switched focus to the material and the lesson while Cinnabar took out their phone to text the number that Phos gave them a while ago.

Moonwalkerpatrol: Hi 😊

Phos3.5: Hiii!!! 😊😊😊

Phos3.5: What’s up?

Moonwalkerpatrol: Nothing, just wanted to see how you were doing

Phos3.5: Im doing fine!!! Class is boring though…

Find out whether they are the same person.

Moonwalkerpatrol: What class are you having?

Phos3.5: Chemistry I think?

Moonwalkerpatrol: You think?

Cinnabar looked up and stretched their neck to look at Phos, who was, in fact, typing under the table.

“Cinnabar, you seem excited, could you tell me the last step of crystallisation?” Cinnabar immediately shrunk back, looking at the board in hope that it would offer some sort of help.

“I-in an experiment for salt? O-or for gemstones?”

“In an experiment to obtain salt.”

Cinnabar stuttered for a bit when Bort subtly slid over their notes. “Uh, turning off the heat and letting the rest of the water evaporate naturally.”

“Correct.” Cinnabar shrunk back into their seat, face burning after a having to speak in front of the whole class, sinking their head into their arms.

*Ping* *Ping* *Ping* *Ping*

Cinnabar looked up at their phone, which was dinging quietly with notifications. If that new fighting game that they downloaded was the culprit then it could be deleted, it wasn’t that interesting. It wasn’t, indeed, the new fighting game, instead they were looking at 35 new messages from Phos3.5.

Phos3.5: MOONY

Phos3.5: Are you there?

Phos3.5: R u ok?

Phos3.5: Where are you?

Phos3.5: Answer me I’m getting worried

Phos3.5: You could see my messages then you couldn’t, are you ok?

Moonwalkerpatrol: Srry

Phos3.5: OMG are you okay???

Moonwalkerpatrol: I’m okay, just contemplating why I’m alive

Phos3.5: ☹

Phos3.5: Is it smth I said?

Phos3.5: Im sorry

Phos3.5: I love you tho

Moonwalkerpatrol: I’m sorry, it’s not your fault!

Phos3.5: You’re alive cus you’re an amazing person

Phos3.5: And you probably are an amazing person in real life too

Phos3.5: You’re great at gaming but you’re also really good in making me feel good

Phos3.5: And you’re probably really pretty too

Phos3.5: But even if you aren’t you’re beautiful inside and I know that for a fact.

Cinnabar stared at the texts that had overwhelmingly positive compliments that were flowing in unprompted and unconditionally.

Moonwalkerpatrol: Sorry… just thinking of stuff and got distracted so I didn’t see your messages

Phos3.5: Haha, there was some poor kid who got picked on by Sensei to say the answer, I would’ve helped them but I didn’t really know the answer either…

Moonwalkerpatrol: …I feel sorry for them

Phos3.5: Yeah… they’re sorta scary but they are sorta pretty too. I’m sure you’re pretty too tho

Cinnabar mentally processed the fact that Phos called their real self pretty, giving them the confidence that spurred them to text their next message.

Moonwalkerpatrol: About real life tho, do you want to meet up sometime? Like, in real life?

Phos stared at their phone in awe, with wide, wavering eyes, ignoring the teacher entirely.

Phos3.5: AAAAAAA I was thinking the same thing!!!

Phos3.5: Wait that wasn’t a typo right? You don’t mean the Ruby Stadium on level 5 right?

Phos3.5: Or the Shackle Ruins that we usually meet at

Moonwalkerpatrol: Nope

Moonwalkerpatrol: Uh actually

Cinnabar took a deep breath, ironic as they were texting and not speaking.

Moonwalkerpatrol: I go to a school called Gakuen Houseki, we could meet at the gates at some point?

Phos3.5: OMG!

Phos3.5: I GO THERE TOO!

Phos3.5: THIS IS AMAZING!

The bell rang, signalling the end of this period and the start of the next one, Bort was flipping through their notes trying to memorise as much as possible. Antarc lightly smacked Phos.

“What?” Phos questioned, still on a high.

“Class, as you – should – already know we have an exam today. Books aside, pencil cases out and phones away, I’m looking at you Phos.” Phos reluctantly put their phone away as the class plunged into a concentrated area of fear and concentration.

(Houseki No Kuni Gift Exchange!)

“So, they go to our school, and they want to meet you.” Antarcticite confirmed, walking back home after school.

“Yep! We just have to decide on a date.”

“Where are you guys going to go?”

Phos hm’d for a while, staring up at the sky. “I don’t know, maybe… the Waffle House?”

“Not the place I’d go for my first date, but I won’t judge.” Phos reddened at the statement, only really registering the ‘meet up’ aspect and not considering that it might be their first legitimate date.

Once they got home Phos rushed to the computer and started it up.

“Hi Moony-kun,” chimed Phos as they connected their headsets.

“Hi Phos. How was your exam?”

“I’m pretty sure I bombed it, you?”

“I don’t pay attention in Biology so...”

“You had a Bio test too? Do you have Alexandrite sensei too?”

“Yeah, that sensei is tough, they give tests all the time.”

“So, when do we meet? Wednesday?”

Cinnabar considered this, it was Monday, but the Waffle House Cinnabar was thinking of going to only served their favourite dish on Sunday.

“Sunday maybe? I want to take you somewhere, but the best dish is only served on Sunday.”

“I have somewhere I wanna take you too! We’ll take turns then.”

The game started and they both turned from discussing their Sunday plans to screaming strategy.

(Houseki No Kuni Gift Exchange!)

The days went by a little too slowly, Phos was sprawled on the grass tearing apart flowers while Antarc was trying to help teach them the homework, inside the classroom was a very different atmosphere.

“Cinnabar, are you okay?” Jade looked at them in concern, Cinnabar was killing zombies on their phone, letting off some steam.

“Yeah, it was just a dumb argument anyway.” Cinnabar mumbled.

“Well… Dia is crying in the janitor’s closet right now and refuses to come out so I was wondering whether you were okay. It’s okay to not be okay.”

Cinnabar suddenly felt the world’s eyes on them, like in a click of the switch, or the reality of Jade’s words just crashing into them like a bullet train. If Cinnabar were to be honest with themselves, they legitimately did not feel bad about the argument, it was dumb, they should apologise, and they felt slightly ashamed for running their mouth like that, but not hurt. That scared them. Now Dia, one of the softest, kindest students in the class was off crying in the closet because of something that they did. It should hurt. Cinnabar should be feeling sadness, or anger, but all they’re feeling is guilt. This overwhelming guilt and a gnawing voice that tells them that everything they touch crumbles and dies, is stained or shattered.

Cinnabar noticed a soft *ping* from their phone.

Phos3.5: Heyyyyyy

Phos3.5: Im bored

Phos3.5: You’re not in class right

Cinnabar thought about it, about seeing Phos and knowing and being with them in person, not just behind a screen or from across the classroom. Phos was pure, innocent and kind. They wouldn’t want someone like them anyway.

Moonwalkerpatrol: Actually, I’ve been thinking that this isn’t really sustainable.

Phos3.5: Busting out the big words? Haha

Moonwalkerpatrol: Phos, I think it’s best if we don’t see each other on Sunday. This wasn’t going to work out anyway.

Phos3.5: I don’t get it, are you cancelling our date?

Cinnabar bit their tongue at the word ‘date’, forcing tears back into their eyes.

Moonwalkerpatrol: Not just the date, I think we should break up.

Phos stared at the words in disbelief, everything was going fine, they didn’t have a fight or anything! Moonwalker couldn’t just… they couldn’t just leave like that.

Phos3.5: But why?

Phos3.5: What happened?

Phos3.5: We can work this out, talking is always the best, keeping everything inside isn’t going to help.

Phos3.5: Moonwalker?

Cinnabar couldn’t bear to look at the messages, turning off their phone and packing their things.

“Cinnabar!” Cinnabar spun around, trying to break the grip that Bort had on their arm, “It’s only lunch time, you aren’t going home are you?” Cinnabar bit back tears, forcing them to stay in their eyes and not drip down.

“And if I am? You can’t stop me.”

“Look, Dia is sensitive and cracks easily, but that doesn’t mean you can just run away from it.”

“This isn’t about Dia okay? Let me go!”

“No, I can report you to the teacher for trying to skip class and they’ll have record of it, do you want a black mark?”

“Oh, now you’re threatening me?” Cinnabar felt a trickle slowly make its way down their cheek. “Just leave me alone.”

Bort sighed and let go. Cinnabar didn’t bolt or run, just sat down and put their head in their arms.

“It’s okay to talk about it you know. I’m really bad with people but I won’t judge.” When Cinnabar turned their head slightly to peer at Bort the other had sat down and was looking at them with almost reassuring eyes, their words echoed Phos’s too much to ignore. Phos.

“I-I broke up with Phos.” Bort looked taken aback.

“Before or after the fight?”

“After. It’s just, whenever I do anything it just hurts everyone around me: Dia, you – I don’t want Phos to be the next one.” Cinnabar rested their cheek on their arms, eyes almost but not quite closed.

“Well firstly, it’s going to take a lot more than being a bit angry to hurt me, so I can be taken off your list of victims thank you very much.” Bort paused, sensing that it might not have been the best thing to start with. “But secondly, you have been nothing but kind to Phos. You’re a bit rough on the edges but it isn’t a guarantee that they’ll get hurt because you’re there, if that was true you would’ve hurt them by now from how long you tell me you’ve been together.”

“Phos deserves better than me.”

“I would actually argue that you could do better than Phos.” Cinnabar glared at Bort, who managed to get the point. “Either way, aren’t you hurting them way more by dumping them?”

Cinnabar felt like the world was sucking out their soul, slowly reeling it into the darkness.

“It’s better that I hurt them now rather than have them be hurt by me many times in the future.”

(Houseki No Kuni Gift Exchange!)

Phos was crying, while Antarc hugged them, seething with rage but trying their best to have a reassuring, comforting aura. They bit back insults towards Moonwalker as they knew it wouldn’t make Phos feel any better, but they sit were angry that anyone would hurt Phos like that.

“I-I don’t know *sniff* why they would do that. I- *sniff* I didn’t say anything wrong, did I?” Antarc handed them a tissue.

“You didn’t do anything wrong Phosphophylitte, in no way was it your fault.” Antarc bit back the unsaid ‘It was Moonwalker’s fault’. “Come on now, wipe your tears and toughen up. We can learn from this that unexpected things can happen, even if they are unpleasant. We can’t fight it; all we can do is stand up afterwards. So get up, that’s it.” Antarc helped Phos get on their feet, still blowing into the tissue. The warning bell rang, Antarc shouldered Phos’s things for them.

Cinnabar watched them walk into the class, Phos with red eyes and sniffing and Dia being quiet and down. They buried their head in their hands.

Antarc scanned the classroom, for once not paying attention to the lesson as much. There was only one class having a Biology test on Monday and that was their class, if Moonwalkerpatrol was from their school (which most likely they were telling the truth as they could chat with Phos about a particular teacher) then they would be in this class. Antarc heard Moonwalkerpatrol’s voice before, they could remember hearing something similar in one of their classes, but they couldn’t remember who…

“Could Bort’s group present next?” Bort nudged Cinnabar, who was the other member in the group.

“Is Cinnabar okay?” The teacher looked mildly concerned.

“They just,” Bort hesitated, “Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Cinnabar sat up, “I’m fine,” they said quietly.

The two got to the front of the class and presented, Cinnabar said the information they needed to, in as loud a voice as they could since the teacher interrupted them several times to say they needed to be louder. The entire class’s eyes were on them, they could feel it. They could feel the stares, the whispers, Cinnabar glanced towards Phos, who was staring at them with slightly narrowed eyes, Cinnabar broke eye contact and looked away guiltily. That made them feel worse. The other groups did their presentations, they had another class, and finally the bell rang to signal the end of the day.

“Phos, you walk home first okay? I have something to do first.” Antarc said after class.

“Oh, okay.”

Antarc walked to the back of the classroom where Cinnabar sat.

“Hey.” Cinnabar jerked their head up, looking Antarcticite in the eye, that was another reason they knew it was Phos, because they were sure it was Antarc’s voice through the headset sometimes as well. They averted their eyes to their notebook. “You’re Moonwalkerpatrol aren’t you.”

Cinnbar nodded, with only the barest of movement to indicate confirmation.

“Are you trying to pick on Cinnabar?” Came Bort’s voice, with Bort glaring at Antarc, the two locked in a fierce battle with knives and swords and saws clashing.

“Cinnabar just dumped Phos over text with no indication why after they were the one to ask them to meet in real life. If that doesn’t sound like asshole material, I don’t know what will!”

“Cinnabar might seem like an ice queen, but they can’t be because you obviously claim that throne. They feel really bad about it, and literally only did that because they are an insecure person who for some reason doesn’t think they’re good enough for someone as lame as Phos!”

Cinnabar was surprised that Bort was standing up for them but with every word from either of their mouths they sunk lower into their chair, wishing they could disappear, wishing they could go away, wishing-

“SHUT UP! Both of you!”

Cinnabar looked up to see none other than Phosphophylitte them self, arms straight out beside them after stomping their foot.

“Phos, I thought you went back.”

“Well after I figured out who Moonwalkerpatrol was, did you really think I’d go? Antarc, I get that you care about me, and that you’re angry but this has nothing, nothing to do with you.” Phos grabbed Cinnabar’s hand, who was still in shock, and pulled them out of the classroom.

(Houseki No Kuni Gift Exchange!)

Cinnabar breathed out, with their breath appearing as a misty steam in the cold, winter air. They were still holding onto Phos’s hand, which wasn’t pulling at theirs anymore, there was no point for their hands to be linked except for the fact that it never felt right for them to let go. The silence was rather comforting, there was a hint of frost on the pavement and a cooling breeze. Cinnabar felt Phos shiver.

“Are you okay?” Cinnabar realised that Phos’s hand was cold and stopped.

“I’m fine, just a bit cold, I didn’t bring my jacket…” Cinnabar considered this, they hadn’t brought a jacket either, but something caught their eye.

“C’mon, let’s go inside.”

Both stepped into the Waffle House, the warmth washing over them.

“Ah, I have some money in my pocket, let’s get something.” Cinnabar hadn’t used their lunch money; they had decided to skip today, and lunch had been a bit hectic.

After both were seated with warm wraps and a milkshake, Phos decided to break the silence.

“I’ll pay you back.” They blurted, after having taken a bite and feeling a bit warmer.

“You really don’t need to; they don’t cost much anyway. Besides, I owe you.”

Phos put down their wrap. “Moony-kun, you don’t owe me anything, you know that right? Yes, I was upset, but not with you, just the fact that I didn’t know why. I understand now, and I still love you just as much.”

“Ah, see that, right there. You forgave me so easily. I don’t deserve that.”

“Yes, you do. That isn’t arguable. Now eat your wrap, it’s going cold and you look underweight.”

Cinnabar obediently bit into the wrap, it was genuinely delicious and filled Cinnabar with a warmth that coursed through their body.

“When did you become so responsible?”

“What do you mean? I’ve always been more mature than my age.” They both laughed, Phos trying to drink the milkshake and getting whipped cream on the side of their mouth due to not being able to stay still.

“There you go, being soooo grown up.” Cinnabar said, using their thumb to wipe the whipped cream off, then promptly licking it off their thumb.

Phos gasped, “Moony-chan! - Cinnabar - that was an indirect kiss!”

“Well firstly, you can still call me Moony if you want to but my name is Cinnabar so you can call me whatever you like. Secondly,” Cinnabar leaned closer to Phos, “Aren’t we dating already?”

Phos turned as red as well, a Cinnabar, and made a failed attempt at hiding behind their wrap.

“So we are dating again. Good.” Phos lowered their wrap and looked at Cinnabar, “I’m really glad that Moonwalkerpatrol turned out to be you, you look prettier than your avatar in the game, and Aurora is pretty sexy.”

Cinnabar stared at Phos with their mouth agape, slowly flushing red. “You-you- when did you get smooth?!” Phos laughed at that and they continued chatting and talking as the clock moved its hands.

“I was planning on taking you here, they only have the blueberry delight waffle on Sunday,” mentioned Cinnabar.

“Same! For the exact same reasons! I guess if we went out on Sunday, we’d wouldn’t know what to do after Waffle House.

Just then the bells at the door dinged as it was opened, the two looked up as the shop had been fairly quiet. The two who came in were none other than Antarcticite and Bortz, bickering while holding twice the number of bags they should have been.

“Why would they come to the Waffle House?!”

“Well maybe not everyone is an ice queen and has warm blood running through their veins and so need some warmth!”

“That makes no sense, if your point is that humans are warm blooded creatures then that proves my point that your body can regulate its own body temperature.”

Antarc spotted Phos and Cinnabar, who were watching in amusement.

“There you are! You left and walked all the way here without your bag, money or even your jacket!”

“I’m fine, Cinnabar paid for the wraps and we talked things out. Everything is okay now.”

Bort and Antarc shared a look that wasn’t of pure hatred, and after putting the bags on the seats they both bowed.

“I’m sorry I got mad at you and yelled without knowing what happened.”

“I’m sorry for calling you lame and for yelling back without watching my tongue.”

Phos and Cinnabar looked at each other in pure amazement, then started to whisper to each other.

“I’m sure Antarcticite was the one who got Bort to do it, Bort has a ton of pride.”

“You clearly don’t know Antarc because when they think what they did was right they will never apologise.”

Phos noticed Bort and Antarc standing there awkwardly and pulled away, clearing their throat.

“Ahem. Cinnabar, should we accept their humble apology?”

“I believe we should.”

Bort sighed in relief. “Can we please get something to eat, those waffles are smelling really good right now.”

Antarc grabbed their wallet, “Yeah sure.”

(Houseki No Kuni Gift Exchange!)

“Hi Cinnabar~ Ready for Christmas break?”

“Yep! Ready to be done with school and finally try out that new action game.”

“You mean you haven’t tried it yet?”

Cinnabar looked at Phos in amusement. “We had like, four tests in the past week, where did you find time?” Cinnabar chuckled as Phos sputtered.

“Hi Cinnabar, hi Phos.”

“Good morning Dia,” Cinnabar greeted, Phos just waving as a reply.

“Where’s Antarc by the way?” asked Cinnabar.

“Something about making sure that the term-end project was the highest quality, they slept over at Bort’s place.” Phos grinned, “Isn’t a ‘class project’ the oldest excuse in the book for hanging out with someone?”

Cinnabar shrugged, “Hey, knowing those two they probably spent all that time actually doing the project.”

Right on cue Bort and Antarc arrived, panda-eyed and bickering as usual.

“Oh Phos, good to see you made it to school on time, hi Cinnabar.” Cinnabar waved and Phos greeted them back.

“Remember the rules,” reminded Bort.

“No flirting at the desk. We weren’t flirting though,” Cinnabar defended.

“Yeah, we were just wondering if you guys managed to complete your project.”

Bort and Antarc looked at each other, “Well we did, at 5am.”

“Who was it who wanted to add the history of it on top of everything?”

The two started bickering yet again, with Phos just shaking their head in mock disapproval and Cinnabar laughing.

“Those two just go into their own world don’t they.”

“Yep. Hey I came up with an experiment!”

“You and experiments. What is it?”

“Experiments are the only fun part of science okay? Anyway,” Phos took Cinnabar’s neck in their hands and they both kissed, deep and long with the warmness seeping in, enveloping both of them in a cosy feeling. When they were devoid of oxygen they broke apart, gasping for breath, simultaneously turning around to check for reactions.

“Aaaaaaand they’re still bickering.”

“If they didn’t notice that then they are definitely whipped.”

“Phos?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you even more.”

#housekinoexchange #cinnaphos #phosphophylitte #cinnabar #hnk #Antarcticite #Bortz #bort #I stayed up until midnight writing this #sorry there's a lot of angst but I added as much fluff as I could!#implied antarcbort

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disasterganes · 5 years

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do you mind going further on the "bryke is trash" point? i may have liked a:tla and thought a:tlok had issues, but i feel like i'm missing info or haven't thought about certain things critically enough.

i will definitely do my best -- full disclosure it’s been years since i’ve come into Close Contact™ w/ k*rra, so feel free to take with a grain of salt. it’s just my opinion, and it’s a heightened opinion because i was B I G into the fandom & show when it was dropping. i had a friend group formed through atla / k*rra before it launched, it was a real cornerstone of my online life so of course i took its bad writing way more personally than a more casual fan. i also can’t watch a show as a show? i’ve done too much work (undergrad & graduate) in writing & narrative studies, so i can Only See Story -- when it falls apart, i can’t get past it.

behind the scenes, atla likely triumphed because it was a team effort, and a bit of a first effort. not that these people hadn��t written before -- but part of what k*rra suffers from is the “how do we level up” problem that is typically answered (esp by white male writers) with make it darker. atla shone because it didn’t need to darken its tone in order to convey a more serious story -- it had room to breathe and a gentler humor that never really felt malicious in the way lok would feel malicious at times. atla was content to be what it was -- lok was always trying to be grittier than it had to be, given how well atla conveyed its difficult themes with a lighter hand.

anyway! two parts: shitty writing, & racism.

abandoning its premise

my biggest pet peeve is when a show sets up something -- and doesn’t deliver. it’s why i noped out literally s1. (and, of course, kept up quietly from the sidelines bc once i start something i’m physically incapable of letting it go. but emotionally i was gone.) in its first two episodes, lok had incredible worldbuilding. it was beautiful! well drawn! interesting! organic to the world atla built! there were problems introduced that were new and different from atla. atla read a lot like a sprawling, classic hero’s quest. falter, then triumph. lok was more intricate. in its first two episodes, it posed a question: how do you navigate heroism in a world where heroism has been redefined? how do you balance staying true to yourself and allowing yourself to grow, under the scrutiny of the “celebrity” of avatardom? and how do you perform as an avatar, the person meant to keep the balance of the spirit world, when the mortal world is out of balance? this could have been four series’ worth of content. there was enough rich, complex worldbuilding in the first episode to sustain four seasons of a show.

and then they just -- forgot about it. it was set dressing, and every half a season they artificially upped the stakes. nothing was organic to the world or the story. it was all some -- contrived plot. the conflict between benders and nonbenders could have been really interesting and then it was just -- black and white. here and gone. k*rra’s too brash and bratty to understand! and nonbenders don’t matter anyway! let’s forget about this plot and skip to some !! uh !! political upheaval! and then like! assassins and genocide or smth!! haha yeah big fights!

it was so shallow, and that’s not how the show started. in the first seven episodes, i thought i’d called the overarching. i thought the show would spend however much time it had (initially, bryke said they were only doing two seasons to “focus on a tight story” and, like a fool, i believed that this wasn’t just a cash grab :/) setting up this story: k*rra will unlock her full potential when she realizes that it’s not just the spirit world that needs an avatar, but the mortal world as well.

that’s it! that’s all you need! it’s a similar premise to atla but it expands atla. i distinctly remember the quote from one of those s1 episodes, where a nonbender says, “but you’re our avatar too.” that’s it. that’s the show. you have a show!! you have equalists, you have a bender-centric world, you have progress at the expense of those that can’t fit this new world’s design -- and then the equalists are all fake and we’re going to just brute force a solution and move onto the next crisis.

... what ?? what put the nail in the coffin for me was when the gang or crew whatever the fuck they were (spoiler alert: they were nothing, none of them liked or cared about each other) were being aided by a homeless community or w/e and b*lin jokes about a “wise and noble hobo.” this orphan. who grew up homeless. and has built himself up from nothing with his only family left. is not utilized by the writers to comment on the epidemic of poverty, homelessness, and very thinly veiled racism / ableism (another spoiler alert: don’t expect white dudes to write a coherent metaphor for a real world issue). this was the opportunity for actual depth and even darkness -- below the glittering world of republic city is a serious problem that “”””defeating the fire lord”””” won’t solve. this is a mature and complex story, and it was never ever explored. in fact, in s2 that rich dude asks b*lin if he’s “ever seen the arena at night.” and b*lin says no. the, uh, the arena he lived in bc he was homeless and crushed under the wheel of this new society.

what ,, the fuck ,, bryke.

it’s the problem where a writer is constantly trying to outdo themselves -- and they sacrifice the story they could have had. the actually mature one. it’s a problem of thinking fight scenes and a villain Bigger and Badder than the last constitutes grittiness or maturity or w/e. (spoiler alert again: it doesn’t.)

torturing k*rra

atla was a story about raising a*ng up. lok was a story abt breaking k*rra down.

shitty writing is one thing. racist writing is another. from the fucking moment she’s on screen, k*rra is told that she’s too much -- she’s too confident, she’s too loud, she’s too stubborn. and maybe she’s confident, loud, and stubborn, but the narrative does nothing but punish her for this.

a*ng is a flawed character. a*ng runs away from his responsibility and, subsequently, the fire nation takes over the entirety of the known world. do i blame a*ng for this? absolutely not. and neither does the narrative -- not in a way that counts. people in the story do, but does the narrative beat him bloody? no. the narrative gives him friends. the narrative gives him room to make mistakes and then apologize for them. the narrative lets him learn without making his failures into something that he is literally tortured over. he struggles, but in his worst and most dire situations -- his friends are there. when he dies, it’s not shown in all of its gory details, and in a beautiful, quiet scene, k*tara heals him with spirit water. they stay by his side, and a*ng is given love, care, and support.

k*rra is constantly, viscerally tortured on screen. k*rra is blamed, threatened, abandoned, poisoned, and temporarily disabled. k*rra is treated like a punching bag in direct response to her supposed “flaws.” we know this to be true because she “learns” from these moments of being violated, abused, and tortured -- the narrative tells us that she had to go through hell, on her own, in order to “learn humility.”

why did k*rra, a brown girl, need to learn humility? when did she ever come across as someone who couldn’t learn, given the kind of time and space that a*ng had? why were her lessons literally beaten into her, while a*ng’s were simply a process of trial and error, with his friends at his side every single step of the way?

people will always argue that it’s not so bad, that it’s not necessary to be as gentle with k*rra. but tell that to young brown girls watching this incredible, smart, kind, strong brown heroine get physically and mentally assaulted and broken down in order to properly “serve and save the world.” that shit? that shit’s traumatizing. k*rra is treated like garbage by m*ka, by as*mi, and by the entire world -- she is killed and tortured and isolated, and she is still expected to be grateful for what little she’s given by the end of the series.

i hate that k*rrasami is praised so highly. because it uses the lesbian card (which i carry as a member) to reinforce some really disgusting colorism and, quite frankly, shitty ass writing. bryke can’t write without a team. end of story.

that shit!! does NOT fly with me !!!

#!answered #anti lok #lok hate #bryke hate #Anonymous

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marvellous-fangirl · 5 years

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Okay soooooo what for being a male!avenger turning 22 and the avengers organizing a bday party? Like it's similar to the party they have in age of ultron and also they have another party after that one which is total chill, drinking some alcohol, smoking cigars, smth relaxed!! Do you think you can write it??

That sounds awesome! I hope this is what you were after and I haven’t messed it up too much! Enjoy :)

Your 22nd Birthday Party

- The Avengers only recently found out hen your birthday is- You just hadn’t told them- But recently Tony was going through some of his files and finally found out your birthday- So he tells everyone of course- But decides that he’s going to throw you a surprise birthday party- I mean you’ll never see it coming since you don’t know that they know your birthday- It’s coming up in a couple of months so it’s not urgent but it has to be ~ p e r f e c t ~- He invites literally everyone you’ve ever known- You haven’t spoken to half of them for years- Most of them can’t come or have lost touch with you to want to come- But all of your closer and more recent friends will be there- And let me tell you it’s going to be amazing- It’s a Stark Party™ so it’s going to be extraordinary- Everyone has to dress up really fancy

- He asks Steve and Sam to take you out somewhere- You all go out for drinks- And to be honest you get a bit suspicious when they offer becausea) you guys rarely go out for drinks without reasonb) it’s your birthday and you smell something fishy- And at this point you’ve basically caught on- To help you if you haven’t your friends start arguing about what time they need to get back- Tony said to get there at 7- No. He said 7:30- Eventually you get them to just tell you because you’re bored of them trying to hide it

- You arrive at the compound and have to act surprised- Because let’s be honest Tony would kill Steve and Sam if they ruined one of his parties- And to be fair, your acting is pretty decent all things considered- But Tony pulls you aside a few minutes after you arrive and gets you to confess- Alright spill. Was it Wilson or Rogers. I bet it was Rogers.

- Eventually the party trickles out- Everyone’s gone home except for the people who live there or who are staying over- You all slump into the sofas and just relax after all of that socialising- God your cheek muscles barely work after smiling throughout the entire evening- You all settle down with a few drinks, supplied by Natasha and Maria, who’ve been working hard at the bar all night- Steve brings out some old cigars of his - Bucky is sprawled in an armchair, smoking away- Sam is giving him the evil eyes- He gives one a go but ends up choking and you can tell Bucky wants to take the piss but Steve is giving him a look- But everyone’s finally relaxing

- Then of course Thor brings out the Asgardian Mead- Steve and Bucky start to happily slurp away- God bless their metabolisms- Sam gets really annoyed at this point and is about to grab some but everyone starts screaming at him- Because he would be out of it within a second- Then Tony is going to give it a go- But no-one tries to stop him- Sam is p i s s e d- So Tony’s has a tiny amount of the Mead- And he’s doing alright until his second sip- To be fair this is longer than most people last- But he goes 0 to 100 real quick- And Nat just grabs a fire extinguisher and sprays him until he’s sobered up a bit- She loved doing that

- Then the debate around Thor’s hammer circulates again- Stormbreaker is there too and most people give it a shot, thinking that iT’s a dIfFeReNt oBjeCt sO iT WoRkS DiFfErEnTlY- I mean we all know Steve is worthy at this point and he just picks up the hammer and starts tossing it around- The look on Tony’s face dear god - Your phone was dead so you couldn’t take a picture, but let me tell you he looked like he had just eaten about six lemons, he was that sour about it - Thor is still a bit bitter but since he has Stormbreaker he doesn’t mind so much now- No one lifts Mjolnir or Stormbreaker successfully- But then everyone persuades you to have a go at lifting one of them- And you really don’t think that anything’s going to happen- But you go for the big one just for a show- And somehow you lift half of Stormbreaker off the coffee table- Thor is getting a bit flustered about this now- This many people should not be worthy

- Everyone is starting to get more tired now- You’re all kind of lying on top of each other and just talking or sleeping- Bruce is snoozing peacefully in the corner of the sofa, curled up next to Thor- Who is trying not to drift off but his eyes are gradually closing- Tony passed out hours ago due to the Mead- Rhodey is dozing on top of Tony- And the Maximoffs are half awake, but involved in their own conversation, which doesn’t involve much- The only people really awake are you, Steve, Sam, Bucky and Natasha- The gang™- It’s just really nice to be able to sit and talk to everyone- It’s quite hard to do that normally since everyone’s away on missions or doing something or other- Eventually you all drift off

- And when you wake up you have the worst hangover on the planet- Except for Tony

#answered #marvellousheadcanons #avengers #avengers headcanons #marvel #marvel headcanons

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lesbiansforboromir · 5 years

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So, my crossover looks pretty much like this: It takes place in eastern Middle Earth and western Rhun, something around Dorwinion (it's like Toussaint. Or maybe Redania? Idk). We know almost nothing about these lands, so we can imagine whatever we want to imagine. For example, there actually may be Scoia Tael (or at least smth similar) in Middle Earth. It's members are Avari elves, who can't deal with human expansion (although some of them fight with Easterlings bc they work for Sauron).

We can see on most of the ME maps the mountains, that are located south west to Sea of Rhun (idk if they have a name), plus we know that on further east there is a great Orocarni range. I like to imagine that the dwarven tribes of Ironfists and Stonefeet live there. We also know that the two blue wizards went far east and failed in their missions, probably starting some magical cults, so I think that sorceress’s like Yen or Triss were a thing.

And where does Geralt fit in here, you may ask? Well, we know of existence of creatures such as wereworms and werewolves and giant spiders, so probably there were other monsters in those forests (although unarguably less slavic ones), so a witcher could be a real profession. Of course minus the Signs, such as Igni, this would give him too much power (because once in a while we should have some mercy of poor Professor, we can’t destroy his world completely).

And once we place everything in this world, all we have to think about is how Geralt and characters from LotR will meet (became c'mon. crossover without the actual crossover? it’s bullshit). So I propose this way: It’s said that Aragorn made Gondor great agai- I mean he reclaimed ALL of their previous territories, plus some new ones in the East (including Dorwinion and surrounding lands).So probably while being there, they (Aragorn, Eomer, alive!Boromir) meet our friendly neighbourhood witcher.

Oh heck… this is kinda really valid! Especially with the wildly different like cultures of the dwarves and the elves and yet it’s still kinda similar. You can imagine that Sauron’s influence had extended that far but only in the sense of spies or sowing chaos, his warring efforts were focused west. Admittedly there’d need to be some messing about with the Witcher’s map and territories, there’s a lot of islands and plopping a scandanavian influenced biome on top of a large sprawling desert is tricky. And then the issue is that between the Orocarni mountains and Gondor the Harad just stretches out between them, I don’t think even with the increase in borders over Dorwinion that Gondor would even come close. BUT THATS JUST... Nitpicking tbh like it’s fun to imagine.

The only sticking point I have is just trying to imagine the two kinda... feels of the worlds interacting? Like the Witcher’s world is the essence of grimdark whereas LoTR assumes a lot of honour, nobility and goodness of heart. Like it’s even down to the logic of the various worlds. In Middle Earth it is logical to be a good person because that is cosmically rewarded a majority of the time and socially of far greater importance than in The Witcher. So it’s hard to imagine two characters interacting authentically when even their most basic experience of living in this world is so vastly different.

But I do like the idea of the Scoia tael being almost Sauron-influenced. It somewhat runs alongside the actual narrative in The Witcher, although as with all white-written racial fantasy oppression it doesn’t like... work in it’s own universe. But yeah it would make sense if a certain section of Avari who never got free of evil clutches were basically ruined and brought low by it, they served the Dark Lord and so eventually their people were few and disparate and filled with hatred. It doesn’t quite work with like them being mortal, since mortality is considered a gift in this universe. But yeah!

Admittedly my favourite type of Witcher crossover is just like... the canon crossover. Ciri’s exploring new planes and finds a cool one and maybe Geralt pops in with her and they appear out of nowhere in front of the fellowship and SHENANIGANS ensue! Love my dimensions hopping lassie.

#chats #the witcher #tolkien

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daintysapphic · 2 years

Text

i wish i could go back and savor it one more time.

the first time you showed up at my doorstep, with egg rolls in hand. you texted me as soon as you got home that my voice gave you goosebumps. your compliments came almost as quickly as our friendship did. things were weird sometimes, there were a lot of strings attached to criss crossing episodes or star crossed lovers or smth. but you were a friend to me when i needed it the most.

i was covered in bruises bc 600 calories tasted like control at a time when i felt like i was losing it all. the world was shutting down and it was making the last quarter of my junior year it’s own, new, kind of hell. my relationship had a clear expiration date and i caught myself looking forward to it.

you were so kind to me. even when i couldn’t read you or your intentions, you were always kind. you gave me your old favorite flannel and played as many imessage games with me as i wanted. when i told you i liked to listen to you play guitar, you told me you were playing just for me. you were there to give me dad advice and in return i gave you girl advice. you cooked for me, i baked for you. i slipped out of the house to watch the season four finale of dexter with you. you did henna on me while my hands shook and my palms sweated the entire time you touched me. we stayed up late just to talk. you made me want to create again. you brought me back to life.

she told me i cared too much. made me cry thru my seventeenth birthday. cheated on me. faulted me in arguments i didn’t want to have. told me my eating disorder wasn’t a problem she wanted to deal with. made me feel crazy and stupid and insecure. my feelings were an inconvenience. so i decided she was right. it was exhausting trying to care enough for the both of us. i knew it wasn’t me, regardless of what she had tried to drill into my head for the past two years. so i decided that was it. we wouldn’t end on her terms.

i didn’t let myself grieve. i had been grieving for a long time before.

as a kid, i read a lot of books. and while i wouldn’t say romance was my genre of choice, it’s unavoidable in the YA FICT section of the library. i grew up reading about love that transcended time and love that would do anything for each other and romance that couldn’t possibly be something that actually happened in real life. love had never been anything like that for me.

until suddenly the cute boy next door was asking me to spend the evening with him because he had planned something but he can’t tell what, i have to wait and see. and when i do, you take me to the park and we have a picnic. sprawled on a quilt your grandma sewed, we watched the sunset. we ate peaches and hummus and i got grass stains on my white shoes. you told me i was beautiful and that you had to take a photo, so i let you. even as the conversation began to lull, neither of us wanted to go home. the sun disappeared and we turned to the clouds. i can’t remember how we got there, but i remember laying next to you and feeling electric. i sat up for a moment to catch my breath and when i returned you had an arm outstretched.

i let myself melt into you.

that was the first time you held me. you were wearing the oversized purple button up and you smelled good. we fit like puzzle pieces. my head on your chest, your cheek against my forehead. your arms wrapped around me, one leg thrown over yours. i instantly felt safe in your arms. you kissed my forehead. three times. three is my lucky number, but you didn’t know that then.

eventually we found our way home and you gave me a drawing, a poem, and a promise to play for me later. i went home giddy and red faced. you made good on your promise and i laid under the stars as i listened and replayed the night over and over in my head. i couldn’t believe it was real. i couldn’t believe you were real. no one had ever done anything like that for me before.

the first time i told you i loved you, i couldn’t say the words. i needed you to know but the words were stuck in my throat. you still made me so nervous but i knew and i knew you loved me too but i had to say it first. you told me i didn’t have to say it. you could see it in my eyes. you knew before i had the chance to tell you.

i’ve been told i have an expressive face but you always know how to read it best.

#this feels unfinished but its just meant to be a snapshot #i am obsessed with falling in love #i never want to forget how it felt to fall in love with you #its like you stepped out of my daydreams #better than i could have imagined #i adore you #<3 #rrr

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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littlespoonevan · 6 years

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SCREW IT. 8!!! PLATONIC CUDDLES BUT THEY'RE ALSO IN LOVE OFC OR SMTH (do which ever one u want I know u might be busy 💞💞💞) ily

anon said:Honestly all of the prompts but to make it easier 9/25

anon said:9/12 evak for the cuddle prompt please? love your writing

9. Totally platonic + 12. Just waking up

this is ridiculous but also based off a real thing that i heard ok!!!! it just screamed evak, i couldn’t help myself skdjfla i hope you like it!!

Isak would formally like toabsolve himself of all responsibility for this. It’s Magnus’ fault - like it’salways Magnus’ fault - and he cannot be blamed for the situation he’s in now.

Here’s Isak’s current dilemma in a nutshell: the rent for hisflat has gone up again, the heating is on the verge of being cut off again, and Isak is really fucking broke.

He can’t be blamed, he thinks, that he spends his Friday nightlamenting his fate after a few beers have loosened his tongue. Especially whenhe can – generally – count on his friends to be sympathetic.

“Just get a roommate, man,” is Mahdi’s helpful but somewhatredundant advice.

“I live in a one bedroom apartment,” Isak deadpans, sulking intohis bottle of beer.

“So share the room,” Jonas tells him, like it’s obvious.

“I can barely fit my own bed in there, let alone anyone else’s.”

“Fy faen!” Magnus exclaims, eyes wide as he snaps his fingers.“I’ve got it!” He pauses for dramatic effect, making sure to meet each of theirgazes before declaring, “Share your bed!”

Isak attempts to splutter out a scathing retort to that butMagnus barrels on before he can even manage to get a word out.

“Advertise your place as a bedshare! And make sure you sayyou’re looking for a nice person to ward off the creeps.”

“Magnus, that’s-“

“Actually pretty smart,” Mahdi cuts in, sounding mildlyimpressed.

“No, it’s-“

“I’m gonna draft an ad for you,” Magnus decides, whipping outhis phone.

And that is how Isakwakes up in the morning with a killer headache and a message from some guycalled Even asking about a bed to rent.

Fuck Isak’s life, honestly.

He’s fully intending on texting this Even person and telling himthat he does not have a room – or abed, what the fuck? – available but then he reads the message properly.

Drunk Isak – or more likely Drunk Magnus – told Even to comeover at 11:00. Isak checks the time.

Its 10:55

Shit.

Isak stumbles out of bed,reaching for the first pair of probably-need-to-be-washed sweatpants he sees anddragging them on before upturning his chair of clothes in search of a hoodie.

He’s just in the middle of frantically trying to pick theclothes up again off the floor when there’s a knock at the door.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Okay,the good thing is that this Even guy will spot in about five seconds flat thatIsak is far too much of a human disaster to be living with and will probablyback out as soon as he gets a chance. This is fine, he tells himself. He can bemature, tell the guy it was just a prank and that he really, really does nothave the space.

He nodsto himself, determined, and then promptly swings the front door open.

And,oh wow.

It’spossible Isak is still a little drunk from the night before but holy fuckingshit this guy is beautiful. He didn’tknow people like this existed in real life?! He’s staring – gaping, really –and he doesn’t even realise he is until the guy raises his eyebrows and uttersa slightly confused, “Are you Isak?”

Isakstarts, straightening his stance and trying to make it look like he wasn’tclose to drooling just five seconds ago. “Yes! Hi! Sorry! I’m- I- uh I’m reallyhungover,” he admits sheepishly.

Evensmiles and it’s, quite frankly, the most stunning thing Isak’s ever seen.

“Maybewe could do this interview over breakfast then?” Even offers, and honestly,with a face like that, how can Isak refuse?

Tenminutes later Isak finds himself sitting at the breakfast bar in his kitchen,watching a beautiful stranger make him eggs.

AndEven is so nice. He talks so easilyand asks Isak questions about his life that Isak answers because he’s toodumbstruck to do anything else.

“Sodo you want to ask me anything?” Even says, poking at the eggs with a spatula. “Myonly references I can offer you are my parents – who say I’m a stunningroommate, by the way – or my ex-girlfriend, who, yeah she probably doesn’tagree.”

Evenlaughs and Isak feels like the worst person in the world. Because he’s actuallyconsidering this. He’s actually considering going along with this ridiculousbedshare idea because fuck, he kind of wants Even to stick around a littlelonger. (And maybe for bedsharing to turn into kissing; he’s only human, okay?)

Inthe end his stupid moral integrity wins out though.

“Listen,Even,” he starts, already feeling supremely uncomfortable when he forceshimself to stop being a baby and meet Even’s gaze. “You seem really nice andlike you’d make a great roommate but- I’m not actually looking for one.”

Evenpauses, a slight frown appearing between his eyebrows that Isak wants to kissaway.

“Butthe ad said-“

Isakwinces. “I was drunk and complaining to my friends about not being able toafford my rent and one of them decided it would be a genius idea to advertisemy flat as a bedshare.”

Evenis quiet for a minute, pushing the eggs around in the pan while he seems to bethinking over what to say. “You can’t afford your rent?”

“Yeah,”Isak replies slowly, unsure of where this is going. “My lease is almost up andthe landlord is hiking up the price again so I’ll probably have to get a secondjob or something. I’m sorry you came all the way out here for nothing.”

Evenhuffs a little bit, taking the pan off the heat and moving to the other side ofthe breakfast bar. “Look, Isak. I know we literally just met fifteen minutesago but from what you’ve already told me, you sound pretty busy with uni and yourjob without adding another job on top of all that.

“Iguess I am?” Isak admits.

“AndI need a place to stay and- well, my company hasn’t been that bad so far, hasit?”

Even’sgot this hopeful little look on his face and Isak can literally feel it melting his heart.

“Ionly have one bed though,” he protests weakly. He’s pretty sure Even could askto share his fucking shower and he’d say yes.

(Scratchthat. He’d definitely say yes.)

Evengrins, offering him a careless shrug of his shoulders. “That’s fine. I like tocuddle.”

Aftertalking over breakfast, he and Even agree to a trial run. A week long periodwhere they’ll see if they can manage living on top of each other without itbeing too disastrous. And, as much as he likes Even, he doesn’t really liketheir odds.

Isakis a slob and the apartment is tiny and his bed sheets probably need to bechanged and oh yeah, he has fucking insomnia six nights out of seven.

He’llbe lucky to come out of this with Even as an acquaintance, not to mind anythingelse.

Onthe first night they both decide to go to bed at the same time and Isak can’tdecide if that makes it weirder or not. He gets the most bizarre sense of deja-vufor a version of himself that doesn’t exist, like he’s one half of a marriedcouple going to bed together which is just- not a thought he should be having.

Evencalls out a soft, “Goodnight,” as soon as they’re settled and Isak echoes him.

Andthen they’re just…lying in Isak’s bed, side by side, in the dark, wide awake.

Great.

Isakgenuinely believed Even was kidding when he said he liked to cuddle. He thoughtit was just a joke to make the fact that they have to share a bed a little lessawkward. That doesn’t really explain why Isak wakes up from dozing to find Evensprawled across his chest.

Hefreezes as soon as he’s fully awake, breath stuck in his lungs as he waits. Forwhat, he doesn’t know. After a few seconds the heavy weight of Even on top ofhim and the steady rise and fall of his breathing tells him Even must besleeping and it allows Isak to relax somewhat.

Okay,this is fine. Even just reached for him in his sleep. That’s totally normal.Even must be used to cuddling. Isak can nudge him back over to his own side ofhis bed and go back to sleep himself.

Except.

ExceptEven is warm. And he feels nice andhe sounds so peaceful. Isak doesn’t want to disturb that.

Aftera moment’s deliberation, he carefully lets an arm drape across Even’sshoulders, settles back into the pillow a little bit more and closes his eyes.

Isakis distinctly aware of another body in his bed when he wakes up in the morning.(It’s not hard to miss when said body is lying on top of his chest.) It doesn’ttake him all that long to remember it’s Even’s. Slowly, he lets his eyesflutter open, giving himself one last moment to bask in this before he looksdown and gets ready to face the impending awkward moment.

Evenis awake, head still on Isak’s chest and watching him with an expression that’shalf sheepish-half unapologetic.

“Soapparently, you’re more comfortable than your pillows,” Even croaks and god, his morning voice should not makeIsak weak at the knees.

“I’vebeen told I make a really great pillow actually,” Isak says. Which isn’tstrictly a lie but Eskild also took it back five minutes later when Isak wouldn’tstop moving.

Evensmiles, sleepy and soft, and jesus christ, he can stay here as long as he wantsif Isak gets to wake up to that everymorning.

“Sorryfor like, completely obliterating any boundaries there were between us,” Evensays, though he still makes no move to get off Isak’s chest.

Isakshrugs, feeling a lot braver with Even curling into him the way he is. “We haveto share a bed. There wouldn’t be much point to this if we didn’t get tobenefit from cuddling every once in a while. This way I don’t even need to payfor the heating.”

Evensnorts but it morphs into something like a giggle halfway through and it’s too much. “Even with the extra body heat,I think we might freeze to death without that.” In spite of his words, Evencuddles the tiniest bit closer.

Isakhums in acknowledgement, idly wondering if it’s normal that he already feelscomfortable being this close to Even.

“Sodoes this mean I get to be your roommate?” Even asks, glancing up at Isak witha light in his eyes that feels far too meaningful for how long they’ve knowneach other.

“Ithink you’ve proven yourself to be a pretty impressive candidate,” Isakmurmurs, a wry grin spreading across his face.

Evenraises an eyebrow but his lips are twitching like he wants to smile. “If I cookyou breakfast again, will that seal the deal?”

Isakbites his lip, nodding once, and Even’s responding grin is blinding before hesqueezes Isak in a hug.

Isakmakes a mental note in that moment to send Magnus a thank you note later.

#evak #isak valtersen #even bech næsheim #skam #tishul #asks #my fics #meme thing #ok i got this out of my system now i can properly focus on the tlditm sequel for the next week

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aphgermanyheadcanons · 6 years

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Gerkor headcanons~? I I know we discussed them at length on messenger, but I never get tired of hearing about them. I'm In too deep...

ur in luck my friend bc im churning out new ones just for u B)

to cover all bases, i think they’d find a whole lot of camaraderie in both of their needs to get things done n be seen as legitimate. they prbly started out respecting each other n while things mightve been a bit awks at first, i bet they’d develop a gr9 friendship n later, relationship given time

both of them hate showing that they’re stressed but they’ve honestly just reached a point where they’ll try to hide it for .2 seconds from each other then fail n laugh cry together bc of the amount of goddamn paperwork there is to do

they’re both?? horrible at showing affection but rlly good at randomly whipping out some painful (bc they’re awkward dorks save them) attempt at expressing just How Much the other means to them n soo will usually just end up laughing in the middle of it

s’ok tho bc he can usually work up enough confidence in the moment to just plant a kiss on ludwig’s cheek n go into an apology abt how he’s sorry he’s not good w words (tho ludwig will assure him he is bc soo can write beautifully when he wants to) but then ludwig will just pull him in for a real kiss bc listen they’re Adults they’re Allowed to

when they try to outdrink each other it’s Terrible and Messy but also ends in them both sprawled out over each other in a Heap of Limbs babbling abt how much they lov each other gosh

soo is the only one who can get ludwig to actually dance- n i don’t mean slow dance i mean dance- without him being tipsy first n it turns out they actually have a gr9 time esp soo bc lbr seeing lud smilin n lettin loose is?? better than christmas

they like to go biking together on clear days!! they’ll go to the local bakery or smth n find a bench by the river n enjoy the view along w their food

on rainy nights when there’s nothing particularly exciting to do they’ll order take out n curl up on the couch n watch sappy k dramas or put on piano music n soo will read out loud for them both to enjoy

soo Attempts to dress ludwig up in korean styles n he has convinced ludwig to let him do his makeup once or twice. ludwig liked having soo fuss over him during that pseudo makeover more than he cares to admit

they both have terrible sweet tooths n sometimes one of them will sneak in smth sweet to eat while they work n they’ll both end up finishing the entire bag/package/whichever. it always ends in laughter bc “didn’t u say you’d only have one?” “as if you’re one to talk!”

they also do have rlly good deep convos abt stuff that come v naturally once they’re started bc they share a lot of the same worries

i lov these bois. they’re gonna get thru this all together ;; ty mystic for sending

#gerkor #aph germany #aph korea #hetalia #aph #aph headcanons #ludwig beilschmidt #realm headcanons #hc #ship related #answered asks #wtpyrofreak

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tarantula-hawk-wasp · 6 years

Text

Bat Paladin Chapter 4

voltron / batfam /dc comics crossover.

Chapter 1 link Chapter 2 chapter 3 link Shiro is Bruce Wayne’s adopted son and part of the batfam AU created by me (I was the anon) and @tchailla

word count : 6.2k (its a big boi)

A/N

Well it has been a Long Ass Time folks. All i can say is that pretty much every excuse in the book applies, a busy senior year of high school, writers block, doubts, changing fandoms, busy summer, busy college, etc. But, starting in Nov. I've been going to a 4 day a week writing group and that's really helping me dedicate time to this so I really think the next chapter will be only in a month or smth. That's about as much as I can promise. I will never let it go this long again.

The hand they gave him was so intimate a weapon.

A sword, though a close-quarters weapon that made him watch the light fade from his opponents’ eyes and left him splattered with blood, was at least impersonal. It was a detachable item that had transferred only vibrations up his arm and across his shoulder. He could at least physically cast off that brutal role of warrior at the end of every fight.

The arm was personal. Cutting through flesh, even with the hand alit, had a horrible sensation. There was a microsecond of resistance, before, like crushing a grape, the flesh gave and was sheared like paper. He could smell meat charring, feel the pulse of body systems, taste the rancid breath of last exhales.

The arm felt like an extension of himself in so many ways, but it was impossible to forget it was artificial. The Galra technology was extremely advanced, it had a smoother and greater range of motion than the joints on a real hand would, but the sensations were subtly different. It had temperature and pressure and texture sensors that were more than adequate. But flesh has a give to it. Even the most taut musculature has squishy skin over it and feels organic. The arm was solid and hard metal, there was no molding slightly to a surface, it either touched or it didn’t. Texture was another jarring change. Instead of the grooves of a fingerprint and the pad of a finger feeling out a surface, it was a staccato vibration of metal finger clipping a surface.

The reality of what the Galra had done to him settled in again with each fight. And with it came the reality of the life he was living.

Sometimes he considered just letting himself die. It would be absurdly easy to let himself lose a fight. Battling to a win was strenuous and unpleasant. If he so wished, he could just pick an opponent and weapon trajectory that would kill him so swiftly after he thudded to the sandy floor that he would not even have to hear the roar of the crowd.

But each time faced with that choice he did not pursue it. Each time he clung with desperate claws to life.

During a fight, his flesh arm had been cut - a messy snag of talons shearing out a groove of bicep. The pain was a dangerous distraction and Shiro had danced backwards, staggering away to gain distance and a moment’s respite.

He needed space and time to think.

Shiro sprinted across the sand and leaned against a pillar with his back to the focus of the action. Judging by the crowd and the grunts and wet slurps combined with suddens rips, the alien was occupied goring a fallen gladiator, another red tally in Shiro’s ledger of failure.

And he was at a crossroads. This wound could kill him. The bleeding was heavy and not slowing, and this fight was far from over. It was not the worst injury he had sustained, but usually the bloodiest gashes came in the desperate close attacks that ended a match and returned him to the callous care of the medical facilities. He needed something immediate to survive the rest of this fight.

A horrid idea struck him and he stared at his foreign, bloodstained palm.

He used the hand to shoddily cauterize the injury, the pain enough that the addition of searing and the stench of charred flesh did not outweigh the benefit of stopped blood flow. Using the Galra hand to save his life left a foul taste in his mouth.

But he did it regardless.

He told himself he was living for Earth, to warn them. For Solaan, whose eyes softened the few chances they had to meet gazes and would send reassuring nods in his direction. For the weaker prisoners, the untested, untried who had never held a weapon before and were sent into the arena to be slaughtered as blood fodder to rile up the crowd before the real fights.

He was not living for himself.

****

Despite being in a family and lifestyle of vigilantes, Shiro did not have a consistent codename. He’d tried out Nightjar, and had stuck with Starling for years, but none had truly clicked. His siblings ended up calling him variations of spaceman and space themed jokes. Nothing had become a second identity the way Batman was for Bruce or Oracle was for Barbara.

Until now. The whispers of “Champion” had spread after those early fights, echoing from cells in the corridors and jeered by opponents, and now it was notorious.

He had always understood the theoreticals behind creating a separate persona for vigilantism, but never before had he truly understood the inherent power in a dual identity. It was equal parts blessing and curse.

It helped in the arena, because it was not space cadet Shiro fighting, it was not brother or son Shiro fighting, it was not pilot Shiro, it was The Champion. And as The Champion he could be brutal, he could spill blood, he could growl in pain and rage and then slink back to his cell and weep as Shiro.

However there were times when he felt the liberation of his role as The Champion could be too consuming. It made it easier to use tactics with the intent to kill.

His technique had changed as he rose in the ranks, his opponents more and more often other vicious victors and now rarely helpless blood-fodder. And so he was employing lessons taught to him less by Bruce or Diana or Dinah, but more by Solaan.

His crash-course in alien anatomy had been shallow because of the sheer variety he might face. Solaan had instead drilled into him the strategy of going for the neck. They had explained that nearly all species have some form of head or brain encasement and targeting its attachment to the body is a safe bet for conquering any unknown alien.

Shiro had received this advice early in his days as a gladiator, but had not the stomach to implement it for many weeks.

And now, with his Galra hand that split keratin plates like butter, he could attack with deadly force.

He couldn’t help but keep up a count of the outcomes of his fights. Both the deaths he did not prevent, and the ones he caused. And as the blood spilled and numbers grew he could little help but notice that he was far beyond the realm of most criminals.

There were people serving life sentences who had snuffed far fewer flames than he, - cells in Arkham filled by those who had never used their own hand to end a life, - mug-shots of faces who had never felt the spray of blood from a torn jugular. He was on par with the monsters.

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

Shiro sat up from the microscope he had been looking into. Bruce had asked him to compare the weave and wear of two pieces of cloth from crime scenes and he needed to sit back and think about it.

Shiro could hear grunts from the out-of-site training floor where Cass and Jason were sparring and the rattle of Dick’s gymnastic equipment.

Tim and Steph were monopolizing an empty table with a sprawl of homework.

It was a good day in the cave. Shiro smiled as the thought came accompanied with new inspiration for examining fiber fraying and hunched back over, adjusting a lense.

“Hey English Question. Need an example of extended allusion or metaphor in something I read this semester.” Stephanie broke the silence. Shiro felt satisfied pride that she was comfortable to ask. When she had first switched to Gotham Academy on a Wayne Scholarship, she had pushed herself, determined not to let Bruce down and certain that meant independency. Actually, Bruce encouraged teamwork and consultation in the family.

A perk of most of them going through the same school, one with tenure and established curriculum meant that the chances of someone having previously done an assignment was high.

Shiro looked up from his microscope again.

“ Old Man and the Sea . Santiago is Jesus. He gets hand injuries, he makes ‘a noise similar to that of a man having nails driven through his hands’. At the end, he collapses on his bed and he’s lying with his hands out like a cross.” Shiro remembered doing that same outline.

“Thanks Captain Kirk” Steph called. Shiro groaned, anticipating the oncoming chorus.

“Actually, since he’s a pilot isn’t he more Sulu?” Dick commented helpfully, dropping down from his set of parallel bars and walking over, wiping sweat from his brow onto his faded Gotham Knights shirt.

Tim snorted. “He strikes me as more Travis Mayweather.”

Shiro smiled around the cave fondly. His eyes catching with Stephanie’s gaze. She was grinning at him, smile shining beneath a plain domino mask. Batman was the only one in the cave in full regalia - the rest just wore dominoes. Bruce didn’t want to risk a bare-face showing up in the background of a video call.

Stephanie faltered and in her place was Haggar, a feral smirk stretching her features. She was there just long enough for Shiro to register and then it was back to Steph, rolling her eyes and shoving Tim with her shoulder.

Shiro slowly pushed his chair back from the table, the screech of the base on the floor ringing louder than the rest of the sounds of the cave. He felt something cold and heavy settle in his core. He stood up, the banter continuing with Jason and Cass entering the main area, hair equally mussed and matching towels over their necks.

Shiro walked over to Haggar-Stephanie. She was flickering more frequently now. He looked around again. No one else seemed to be noticing this.

“Is Scarecrow in Arkham?” He asked cautiously. For once he prayed this was fear toxin. He needed to know now though, before he took action.

He only had experienced the effects once, in his youth, when the Batmobile had rolled into the cave where he was waiting, after watching an intense and dramatic showdown between Scarecrow and Batman and Robin and Nightwing that had culminated unsatisfactorily in Scarecrow’s escape.

He had been overwrought and ran to the returned trio, and embraced them in turn, clinging and unknowingly inhaling residual Fear Toxin.

Everyone had been exhausted and Shiro already upset enough that the preliminary signs went unnoted and he, and everyone else, had gone to bed.

They were woken later by him screaming, eyes open but unseeing, awake in a nightmare. Bruce had administered the antidote and stayed with him for the rest of the night.

That raw, unbridled terror at things that had seemed real was not something he wanted to re-experience, nor did he want to act on unfounded and strange visions. If this was a hallucination he did not want to hurt his family.

“He is. And his rehabilitation reports are showing progress.” Bruce answered from the Batcomputer. He was still facing Oracle. Good. Shiro didn’t want him watching.

Haggar was there long enough to let out a laugh and then it was back to Stephanie, smiling up at him. She looked trusting. He lit his arm up.

Shiro put his glowing Galra appendage through his little sister’s heart and it hurt in a way no weapon could.

Stephanie burst into a puff of mist with a brightness that momentarily disoriented Shiro from his stricken state.

The others were continuing with their conversation, ignoring the absence of Stephanie.

Now Dick was the one flickering to a shorter, white haired frame and then back to himself. Shiro strode towards him on steadier legs than he thought he ought to have.

“Do you want a sweaty hug, sweat-ie?” Dick said, laughing with arms spread, showing the mottled dark patches on his shirt. It flashed to Haggar with spread robes.

“Please no. Don’t do this.” Shiro muttered, and chopped Dick in half. He too burst out of existence.

Shiro swiveled around, watching each of the rest of the family, dreading any of the options of who could be next.

Jason sputtered-his eyes glowing yellow. He had a shit-eating grin. “Actually I think you're more Wesley.”

He was still laughing when Shiro dispersed him. It was perhaps worse that they did not react, merely acting as if everything was normal until they disappeared. Shiro was the only one shaking, the only one wracked with guilty choked sobs.

Shiro was in the middle of the triangle of Tim, Cass, and Bruce. A bolt of gratitude struck him that Alfred wasn’t present in this hellscape.

Cass, with her typical understated delivery, placed a hand on his chest.

“R2-D2.” She said decisively. He smiled. Even as another sister turned to Haggar and the hand resting on his pectoral gained sharp nails and dug into his flesh painfully.

After he did away with Cass, Tim was next. Shiro went through the motions quickly and with as little thought as possible. It pained him how practiced this was already becoming.

And then Bruce. Destroying even an image of Bruce would only drive home more solidly how far he had deviated from the principles his adoptive father had instilled in him.

Bruce was smiling at him - the little curve of his closed lips that could slip past the seriousness of the batcave and the cowl.

Shiro stared at his own eyes reflected in the lenses of the mask and hated himself. The face looking back could not be his own now, because the rip across his nose was missing and those eyes did not burn with the haunted exhaustion he ached with.

Shiro searched Bruce’s visage for an apology he did not deserve and with the destruction of Batman, the Batcave melted into darkness.

****

There was a heavy anticipation of pain and gore, a speculation of whether this would be a fight uphill against a savage opponent or a fight of restraint against some helpless victim.

He often forced himself to push past his lack of desire to watch the match before his - the inability to help a weak competitor despite being only meters away was intensely disheartening - but frequently he knew he was to fight the victor of a match and that strategically he must bring himself witness whatever bloodbath played out.

He was focusing on the hissing, bipedal bird-esque alien that was had an iridescent covering that was intermediary scales and feathers that ended in wickedly sharp points. It had used a serrated beak to rip the still-twitching circulatory system from the screaming form of its last opponent. Shiro hoped it would be defeated by whatever poor creature faced it before him, getting close enough to put his hand through the feather-scales would be difficult and he was not sure how thick they were, -If he would have to hack away to create an opening to even injure. The likelihood of him ending a fight of that kind anything close to unscathed was scant.

The figure that was shoved out onto the sand next was not some defenseless waif, nor was it some brawler. It was the six limbed hulking form of Solaan.

Shiro watched, wide-eyed, his parched eyes drinking in the sight of the friend he had been treated to only infrequent glimpses of in months. They looked little changed, fur perhaps a hint duller and thinner and something in their face held a deep weariness.

They rolled both sets of shoulders, limbering up their joints and sending ripples rustling through their purplish fur.

They stepped into the central area of the arena and evaluated the bird-like opponent with a calm resignation. Shiro knew Solaan’s methodology in trying to create an initial strategy.

With a sudden burst of motion the bird-alien darted and jabbed for Solaan’s thigh, Solaan pivoted, planting their lower arms and used their body as a lever to deliver a bucking kick that sent the alien staggering feet away.

The attack and dodge continued. Solaan was the bulkier and slower of the two, and they relied on their endurance and powerful blows to retaliate against the vicious speed. The bird was in constant motion, dodging and leaping like a ricocheting shuttlecock in a volley.

The fight came to a head with a graphic collision between the beak of the bird-alien and the broad palm of Solaan’s upper right hand.

Shiro’s gasp was matched by the crowd and the wet puncturing sound of the action. Everything froze for part of a moment and then Solaan flexed and raised the injured arm, heaving their opponent up, the beak still driven completely through their flesh.

The alien thrashed as its feet left the ground, and with its spindly taloned legs flashing and goring deep gouges across Solaan’s chest and thighs.

Shiro flinched with each strike. He was pressed as close to the force field as he dared, watching desperately.

Solaan stayed stoic and clamped a hand around one leg, the other foot’s talons scored first that wrist, and then they ripped into the other arm that came to seize the free leg. Solaan gripped the legs and with their remaining unoccupied hand, reached for the neck of the bird.

The beady eye of the alien widened and then its neck oscillated with a writhing yank, it pulled free its beak and drove it pointedly into one of Solaan’s eyes.

They bellowed, this injury finally snapping their control. Solaan’s limbs jerked spasmodically and with a lurch, their arms jolted in opposite directions and tore the legs off the bird-like alien.

Solaan, brownish coat now patchy with blood, had managed to end the fight in better condition than their hemorrhaging opponent.

The wave of relief that Shiro felt at their survival was quickly followed by a tsunami of dread.

He was to fight the victor of the match he had just witnessed. He was going to have to face Solaan.

He was churning with scenarios. Would Solaan and he fake some sham of a fight that ended with a mutual loss? Or would he sacrifice himself for Solaan or the other way around? He doubted that Solaan would engage him in true combat like a bonafide opponent. Could Solaan even survive long enough to put on a show satisfactory to the merciless voyeurs?

His gate was opened and his feet felt so heavy in the sand. The matching dull thuds of his heart and his steps carried him across the floor. The stadium was roaring with the fervor his appearance always provoked, but that was all a negligible rush in Shiro’s ears. The only sound he heard was the rasp of Solaan’s labored breaths.

Solaan tried to plant their arms and heave themself up to standing, but their limbs trembled with strain and nearly gave out with the attempt. So they stayed kneeling.

Shiro stood before Solaan, feeling odd and awful being the taller one. He reached out a gentle hand and trailed his fingertips tenderly over the soaking of blood. Solaan’s blood was morbidly beautiful. It disgusted and pained Shiro for what it was - the life of his friend pulsing out over his fingers - but it was fascinatingly different from most hemoglobin-based bloods. Solaan’s blood was a teal blue and shimmered with a golden metallic sheen. And it was painted over both of them.

Solaan shifted their weight and freed a hand from holding themself up and covered Shiro’s. Somehow, through the likely-crippling pain of their bleeding eye, through the damage to their body, through their fear, they managed to soften their gaze and smile at Shiro.

It was Shiro whose breath shuddered in a sob as if he were the one nearly gutted. Solaan slid Shiro’s prosthetic hand down to cup their chin and throat, and Shiro felt the rumble of their speech resonate up it.

“It is good to see you. And to see that you have not lost yourself to let the fight become easier.”

Shiro was momentarily taken aback, he expected an immediate addressal of the matter of the fight at hand.

“I… No, of course not.” He paused. There were so many things he suddenly needed to say. They were not living a situation with allowances for regrets or ignoring opportunities. “I didn’t want to let you down.”

Solaan met his honesty with equal gravity. “You could not have let me down.”

“I’ve tried to do as you said, to save people by getting them sent off and to only kill the-” His rush of words was interrupted.

“I know. I know and you have done well.” Solaan’s smile, still battling against the tightness of a grimace of pain, grew a little. Now they were interrupted.

The crowd had not been content to sit idle as they caught up. The baying for blood grew in fervor and suddenly Shiro noticed a Galra with a handheld control panel standing at one of the arena’s entrances and staring at him. The second Shiro made eye-contact with him, the Galra’s countenance turned smug and he manipulated something.

Shiro staggered, a shout leaving him, as his body was wracked with electric pain. It was not a lengthy sensation, he was left gasping after only a moment and a cold and clear voice ordered him to “Fight!”.

He tried to muster himself, staring at Solaan, but found he could only refuse.

He was shocked again, this time leaving him crouched in the sand with a hand planted to support himself. Now it was Solaan giving orders.

“Shiro, you have to do something. They’ll do that until you pass out or die and then I’ll face whomever comes after you.”

“What would you have me do?” Shiro didn’t like either option.

“You have to kill me.”

“NO!” That got Shiro up off the sand and back to his previous position before Solaan.

“I will not survive these wounds much longer. If not you, then the next competitor will kill me. And I would rather it was you than something brutal.” Solaan was so serious. Shiro was running his options through his mind and did not like any of them. He had no desire to see Solaan torn apart by someone else, but to kill them himself was a nightmarish prospect.

He placed his prosthetic hand to their throat, and they met his gaze with a composed readiness. Shiro lit his hand and found himself frozen in incapacity.

This was the scenario he was tortured with, this was his terror, putting his hand through a loved one. He had performed this act countless times in hallucinations to dozens of people, but he knew this was real. This was not Haggar pulling the strings this was his own volition.

The glow of his hand turned off and he dropped it limply.

“I can’t. Solaan I’m sorry but I can’t.” His voice sounded breathy and whiny to his own ears.

“I understand. I should not have asked.” Solaan did not sound accusative. Shiro felt even lower with that. Solaan had trusted him to do one basic thing he had done so many times before, he had killed so many except the one person who had actually wanted him to do it.

Inspiration struck him, because he could not just abandon Solaan to the blade of another. He had a third option.

He stood tall and stared around the crowd, garnering their attention and his own voice declaring an ultimatum with his own alit hand held to his throat. Either Solaan was taken to a work colony or he, the titular Champion, would never fight again.

It took a staredown of conviction and sheer stubbornness cultivated out of the Wayne household, but it apparently worked.

Solaan was removed from the arena with breath still in their chest. And Shiro was left with nothing of them but hopes and doubts.

For all he knew, all his supposed leverage of popularity was a sham and worthless and he was merely condemning Solaan to a future death behind shut doors. There was no guarantee, he had no rights and no real say on what they did.

But he had been an incapable coward when faced with the surer solution.

Were these benevolent acts of violence against people he loved his curse? How many times must he use the sharp side of a sword to save? And was it really more merciful than death? His knowledge of the work colonies was limited and fragmentary, combinations of hopeful imaginings, Galra propaganda, and threats from guards.

They might be simply worked to death, a slow and painful dragged out process. Or they could be kept alive and tortured in worse ways in colonies far from any regulatory supervision of the mainstream Empire.

The injuries he inflicted may just be the first in an endless onslaught of suffering.

*********

Shiro had little chance to see other prisoners outside of gladiator matches or passing by others surrounded by an equal number of sentry robots in the corridors. He was kept in a solitary cell, he was fed in that cell, and after his fights he was now often the only survivor being healed in the medical facilities. Or he was being taken to Haggar’s chamber of horrors or some other lab for experimentation. There was little socialization, and with Solaan gone, there was no one to seek out if he had been allowed in a crowd.

But anomalies in any surety could crop up, and Shiro was being escorted after an exhausting match, bruised and stumbling and desperate for the horizontal surface in his cell that was at least mostly safe to collapse on, when the screeching blare of an alarm went filled the corridor. Shiro had pieced together an observation of the severity scale of various Galra alarms and this one was blaring with importance. He had little else to do with his downtime. When he was too exhausted to exercise he could only listen to the ambient noise - the hydraulics of doors, the ringing clip of sentry steps, the occasional scream.

His escorts this time were a mix of flesh and metal. The two Galra guards exchanged glances over his head, looking through him as a ragged prisoner, a non-entity, and both shrugged and frowned. Rapidly, they growled orders to the two robots and those sprinted down the corridor, presumably towards the commotion.

Suddenly Shiro was grabbed around the bicep and hauled bodily around a corner and stopped in front of a closed cell door. It was a larger cell, like the one he had shared with Solaan and others in those early weeks.

The guard not holding him partially off the floor slapped her hand against the door control and as soon as it opened he was rudely tossed in. He stumbled as the door shut behind him and heard a muttered “That counts as temporarily securing any in-transit prisoners right?” between the guards.

His eyes adjusted to the darkened light and he was met with five sets of eyes. Three were species he had seen or fought before, two were tall vermiform beings that swayed hypnotically and twined around each other in an embrace. It would have been almost cute but for the fear in their eyes.

In fact, all of the beings in the room were ones he would have immediately decided to try to get sent to the labor colony if he faced them on the sand.

He turned to the most calm looking person in the room, a slender but humanoid being with brightly colored segments of color, and raised his hands in a peaceful, beseeching gesture. He was desperate to assure his harmlessness to all present as swiftly as possible.

He had little chance.

There was a movement behind him - he had not attentively tracked the motion of every person in the room and let one get behind him. He fought down his combat instincts, determined to show his friendly intent, to show that he was just another helpless prisoner trapped in this situation and thus akin to them, and was wholly unprepared for the sudden punching pain to the back of his lower left rib cage.

He gasped and dropped to his knees, breathing suddenly laborious, and groped behind himself, the motion of his shoulders pulling and twisting the painful flesh. He felt a rough edged piece of hard material, plastic or bone, it was difficult to say, that was wrapped in a layered strip of frayed and greasy fabric.

He left the weapon in his flesh, it was keeping at least some of the blood on this inside and he did not feel like contorting and cauterizing himself when he knew there was at least some chance the guards would return and take him to a proper facility with a far less painful repair tactic.

The other inhabitants of the cell, even the bold one who had stabbed him, were keeping their distance now, huddled against the walls. He little blamed them. They likely thought him some wounded animal, burning to lash out at anything that dared come close.

And he felt little better than that.

It was an agonizing wait after that. Shiro lying on the ground in a twisted pose that relieved the most pain from his injury and focusing on breathing. In the back of his mind there was a countdown going, there was only so long he dared wait for guards to return before he lost too much blood. Before that threshold he would have to take matters into his own hands and close the wound. But until then he would wait.

The guards, only the female the same as before, returned before he had to take measures of self preservation and collected him off the floor with a scoff of disgust. He was healed by the apathetic infirmary and with little ceremony returned to his cell for his usual solitary rumination.

He had been shanked. In prison. The absurdity of this being the prison cliche he got to experience, despite being in deep space, was not lost on him. He tried to focus on that near-amusement, trying to think about how much Jason would laugh at that, at the face Dick would have made, at how Keith would have scoffed. His brain kept slipping down the alternative train of thought.

This was painful evidence that he was no hero. He was seen as something to be feared and put down by a makeshift weapon by a prisoner his instinct was to save. He was not viewed as a savior or a Champion of these common folk. He was seen as the enemy, - the one to be struck down, - to be feared.

It rankled and rotted in his heart. Was this how superheroes whose populace disliked them felt? Or worse, was this how villians saw themselves? A hero working against the actual wishes of the people for some grander scheme that he thought he understood?

He had been shanked and it felt like a betrayal to all of the efforts he thought he had been making on behalf of the weaker.

********

The arena was becoming a preferable destination. This was not an opinion Shiro had ever anticipated harboring, but as his escort of uncaring Galra robot drones turned more and more often to the right instead of the left at the crossroads of the main corridor and led him away from the arena and towards either a scientist or Haggar’s workroom, he found himself wishing for the crowds and sand.

At least when he was fighting he had some facsimile of control. He may not be there by choice and his opponents were never of his own selection, but he picked which moment to lunge, where to strike, how to move and feel. It was the only time he felt truly alive and present in the moment.

Time in his lilac-lit cell droned in the monotony of echoed robotic footsteps clanking past in a clockwork rhythm broken only by the delivery of food. But in the arena it was a series of heartbeats pulsing fast and roaring with his blood and the crowd.

And there he picked which blows to give and take. And the pain, for there was often pain, was natural - in that it came from injury and was localized at a source rather than from some inflicted cruelty.

When he was strapped to a table, or forced into a tank of fluid, or scanned or prodded, he had no control. When they alit every nerve in his body at once, or worked through them systematically, the pain was the kind that writhed under his skin and churned his gut. A seemingly endless discomfort made worse by the callous interest of the scientists.

Time with Haggar was foul beyond that. When she was not using her powers to wrack his body with agony, she invaded his mind with distorted visions of his loved ones that grew more disturbing and detailed with each session.

Sometimes they were memories, nights in the Batcave with his siblings, or gatherings with the Justice League, or cadets he had grown up with in the Garrison, other times they were new creations. Being pitted against Solaan, or Bruce, or Dick, or Jason, or Keith or someone, in the arena and forced to fight desperately to the death.

The fights against Bruce were the worst.

Haggar’s Batman grew more and more lifelike and now vocalized scorn and disappointment just as often as it did gruff affection.

Lingering doubts about his actions were dragged into the light in the most painful way.

It was one thing to think on the darkest of nights about the way he was betraying nearly every doctrine his adoptive father had ever instilled a belief in. - But to hear him say it. To look into Bruce’s eyes, for now Batman was just as often a maskless Bruce Wayne in training clothes, and see disapproval, to see the disappointment, to see the resignation to failure, cut Shiro to the quick.

For Shiro was not breaking the “no killing” rule in some questionable accident. Irregardless of the utter lack of pleasure he took in killing, he deliberately went for lethal blows and no circumstantial justification he offered in pleading gasps from beseeching lips could undo the intent behind each bloody victory.

*******

It was not that escape had never occurred to Shiro, but rather that it had been a pipedream of impracticality. Even if he made it out of his cell or out of his bonds, he would still have to make it through a maze of patrolled corridors, and even if he made it that far, he was in space, which created an even greater complication of transportation.

But he was a scion of Batman, so despite his misgivings he was prepared to leap at any opportunity. And Ulaz was offering a chance that accounted for many of the potential problems Shiro had been most daunted by. He had mapped every corridor he had had the privilege of being forced down, and kept a mental count of steps and shift changes. He could handle navigating the corridors and there was a spacecraft waiting at the end.

The plan as soon as he was out of Galra range was to contact the Green Lantern Corps and through them one of the Earth Lanterns and the Justice League and his father. He was mentally prepared for complications in this, without Galra translation technology he was likely going to be reduced to pointing at something green and at a ring or his finger and hoping the Corps had widespread awareness in that area.

Instead, to his shock, he was met with familiar constellations and passing by planets he was intimately familiar with. He was in the Solar System. The Galra were in the Solar System. Relief was warring with panic in him. On the one hand, he could directly land on Earth, but on the other the Galra would see one of their own hijacked ships landing there.

He would have to hope he created enough of a warning for the Watchtower and other interplanetary defenses to prepare.

Some part of him was even hopeful that he would be hailed by the Watchtower or met halfway by J’onn or Superman.

Instead, he was greeted with nothing. He had little capacity to dwell on that rather concerning fact. His descent and landing were dangerous and difficult enough that it took much of his piloting expertise to make it survivable. He had spent a lot of time in simulators learning how to crash ships in ways that kept the cabin intact, but this was an unfamiliar ship and simulations could never quite capture the desperation of how badly he wanted to live.

He was rather proud of himself for landing not only on the same continent as the Garrison, but in the same desert as the headquarters. It would be hard for either the League or military to miss the smoke and flames of a crashing spaceship, he knew he would not be left waiting long. He smiled at the sandstone filling the viewport and gave into the unconsciousness his throbbing temple begged for.

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

A/N So that's the end of Shiro's imprisonment. Ik this is a lot of build up without actual Batfam interaction, but the way I want to tell this story is going through how Shiro's outlook on the canon story would be different with a Batfam background. SO we've got next chapter which is like Bruce and Batfam hearing about shit on earth, then a chapter of Shiro with the Voltron squad and honestly like the actual Shiro and DC characters present interactions will happen in a few chapters but the like pacing of this fic is more rushed at the start because I want the exposition to build up to the like last 5 chapters which will be slower paced.

Honestly I had about 4 different voltron fic ideas, and bc i know myself and that I would only have the dedication to do one long fic, I combined them so like Solaan was created for a different story and I really liked them and they fill in some plot holes so.

ALso! Duke Thomas! introduced next chapter!

#the bat paladin #shiro #batfam #voltron #vld #my writing #guess who's back kids #this is shiro's lowpoint #nothing good happens in this chapter

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trensu · 4 years

Text

Episode 10: The One with ANOTHER Moonlit Rooftop Moment

Still surrounded by dead bodies, guys. There is, unfortunately, an abundance of plot this time

But let’s slog through it BC OUR BOYS ARE WORTH IT

So right now we meet Xue Yang, Xiao Xingchen, and Song Lan

Love ya guys, but we’re not here for you today

(even tho xxc is the most beautiful elf prince of a boy i’ve ever seen; no wonder xy gets all obsessed with him and song lan falls in love)

(yes, song lan and xxc are in love, no i will not be taking comments)

Moving on!

Plot plot, xy and xxc have a sword fight, plot plot

Oooh, wait there is an itty bitty piece of WangXiantics here

Wwx uses his Magic Rope of Binding/Bonding to reel XY in like a fish and proceeds to yank him about while he tries to have a sword fight with xxc

(NO ONE’S ALLOWED TO HAVE ROMANTIC SWORD FIGHTS IN THE MOONLIGHT EXCEPT ME AND LWJ -- wwx, probably)

So he does this, and then throws a little grin at lwj and teases “lan zhan, are you still bored?”

Ahhh, wwx, you might as well have shouted: LAN ZHAN, DID YOU SEE WHAT I DID? WASN’T THAT CLEVER? ISN’T MY INVENTION USEFUL?? AREN’T YOU IMPRESSED???

It’s okay, we all got the message anyway

Except maybe lwj bc he is still a Disaster Gay™ even if he now knows he is In Love and Soulmate’d for Life

I’d like to pause a moment to let you all know that wwx has a HILARIOUS 'disgust' reaction to xy.

Xy is all captured and xxc is all CONFESS and xy is all yeah okay i killed all those guys and it was fun

Wwx’s face gets all twisted up like when you smell something rotten

AND THEN DOES A FULL-BODY TWITCH AWAY FROM XY LIKE HE’S TRYING NOT TO PHYSICALLY PUKE

IT’S SO FREAKING FUNNY

I mean i shouldn’t laugh bc that’s probably a reasonable reaction to a unhinged killer saying that murder is just a fun hobby of his, BUT GOD, I HAD TO REWIND AND SEE THAT REACTION PLAY OUT TWICE, I WAS CRACKING UP

Anyway

Xy is all tied up and captured and everybody talks plot stuff (after introducing themselves and doing the whole “wow, you’re awesome,” and “no, no, you’re awesome” thing)

Xy laughs because he’s a murderous lunatic and wwx is like “what’s so funny asshole”

Wwx is def posturing here

I think he’s threatened bc they have similar sense of fashion

Like, hell no, this murderous bastard is not gonna steal MY look

HE’S GIVING BLACK ROBES A BAD RAP, I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS!!

Lwj: Give us the Plot Device

Xy: idk what you’re talking about bro. I just came out here to have a good time and attack people right now

Wwx: lan zhan, don’t bother talking to him!!

Yeah, wwx is DEFINITELY feeling threatened lol

Like, omg why is lwj listening to this guy? Why did he get closer to him and start talking to him? LWJ HE’S NOT AS PRETTY AS ME!! I LOOK BETTER IN BLACK ROBES, LWJ, STOP LOOKING AT HIM

Wwx: i’ll search him, here hold my sword

Lwj: *pointedly does not reach for wwx’s sword*

None of this is a euphemism guys, get your minds out of the gutter

Wwx: right right, i can search him AND hold my sword at the same time, nbd nbd

Wwx: *proceeds to molest xy*

and in that moment, all of us suddenly wished to be a murderous lunatic

Xy: woah there, mr. handsy, people will talk!!

Wwx: bro, i am the KING of gay chicken, don’t try me

MEANWHILE, lwj is watching all this go down very intently

WHATCHA LOOKING AT LWJ

WHAT’S THE MATTER

R U JEALOUS RN??

‘Nooo, that’s supposed to ME under wwx’s sexy wandering hands’ --lwj, probably

we feel your pain, bro

So that’s the first wangxian moment of the episode

Lwj being jealous again

Altho to be fair, i mean, anybody would be miffed watching their soulmate feel up someone Not Them, right?

Right.

Plot plot plotty NHS and Meng Yao appear conveniently plotty plot plot

Xxc and SL get invited to Qinghe to witness Justice Get Served to XY

Xxc: yeah no, we’re not doing that. Clan politics not really our scene

Xxc: we prefer to be alone together and travel the world, right, boyfriend, i mean Song Lan?

SL: *is handsome and stoic*

Then wwx has a Same Hat moment

Wwx: OH, US TOO, ME AND LAN ZHAN DO THAT TOO

Lwj: you should give us your contact details

Lwj: in case we need you.

Lwj: for stuff.

LOOK AT LWJ BEING ALL SOCIABLE

I’M SO PROUD OF YOU BB

(he really did ask them how to reach them tho)

Lwj rightfully saw xxc & SL and thought, now there’s a gay couple i can bond with

Then the group splits up with XXC and SL go their own way

I mention this because we get a shot of LWJ staring longingly at the pair of them as they walk off

You know why?

You all know why

IT’S BC HE’S DAYDREAMING OF HIM AND WWX DOING WHAT THEY DO

JUST TRAVELING TOGETHER AND PUTTING GOOD INTO THE WORLD

*SOBSOB*

And then WWX breaks the daydream with a simple “let’s go?” and lwj just turns around and follows him with barely a pause

BC HE LOVES WWX AND WILL GO ANYWHERE HE WANTS!!!!

We arrive at the Unclean Realm for Plot Reasons

Plot plot, NMJ makes a Badass Entrance, jc & wwx fanboy over him, plot

More plot stuff

More non-wangxian stuff

So much non-wangxian stuff

Why, show, why

Foreshadowing Plot Stuff

AND WE’RE AT THE 30 MINUTE MARK OF THE EPISODE WHEN WE FINALLY GET A SUBSTANTIAL WANGXIAN SCENE

OH GOD, IT TOOK SO LONG

I ALMOST DIDN’T MAKE IT GUYS

BUT HERE I AM!!!

Okay, okay *deep breath* we’re good now

WWX IS ON A ROOF!!

RIGHT NEXT TO LWJ’S ROOM!!!

Bc he’s drunk and can’t find his way back to his own rooms so he thought sleeping on the roof was a good option?? JOIN A HELP GROUP, WWX

LWJ was peacefully meditating in his room and when there arose such a clatter that he had to grab bichen and was ready to cut a bitch

But just kidding! bc he hears wwx’s voice and immediately relaxes

Wwx: these roof tiles are much rougher than the ones in gusu, so rocky, so uncomfy

He says this as if it was done to purposely inconvenience him specifically

Again, he’s drunk here guys

But he’s a poetic drunk!!

Wwx: the world is a room, i’ll take the sky as my quilt and the ground as my bed

A very pretty way of saying I CAN’T FIND MY ROOM, GUESS I’LL SLEEP OUTSIDE

Wwx then shows us that he can’t drink properly from a jar of wine and just pours it into his mouth and sloshes half of it down his neck and on his clothes

Ooooh, but that’s a nice shot of his jawline

And oooh, his neck’s all glistening now

I APPROVE

I APPROVE VERY MUCH

And then ~THEIR SONG~ STARTS PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND as lwj exits his rooms and walks outside to see wwx lounging on the rooftop like a particularly handsome raccoon or smth

Wwx: lan zhan, i’ll sleep on your roof tonight *passes out drunk but in a ridiculously cute way*

FOR REAL, HE JUST SPRAWLS OUT ON THE ROOF AND THEN ~GENTLY~ LEANS HIS HEAD ON HIS HIS HAND AND DRIFTS OFF ANGELICALLY

STOP BEING SO CUTE WWX

LWJ: wei ying, i have to go

He says SOFTLY and with LOVE and then PROCEEDS TO ABANDON HIS SOULMATE TO GO OFF AND DO STUPID PLOT THINGS

But guys, it was still beautiful

He says that and EVERYTHING goes all slo-mo as he walks away

I mean, the shot of him walking away is done so that we can see wwx perched on the rooftop above him and lwj does that stately strut he has

And then the camera gives us a shot of wwx’s face as the WIND GENTLY RUSTLES HIS HAIR

STILL IN SLO MO

WITH ~THEIR SONG~

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Ugh gross, this beautiful scene is followed up by that wen chao

Plot plot

Suddenly a wen vs. nie battle is happening

For Plot Reasons, blegh

Omg so many Dramatic Twirls everywhere

Okay, okay, unfortunately we gotta listen to Wen Chao for a moment to get a breadcrumb’s worth of wangxian here

Wc: hey, wwx, since you’re ~sooo~ interested in GusuLan stuff, let me tell you something

Wc: *proceeds to brag about his big brother destroying the cloud recesses*

(even the bad guys know wwx and lwj are obsessed with each other, YOU’RE NOT SUBTLE BOYS)

Wc: if lwj manages to make it home, he’s gonna find it in ruins!!

(seriously FUCK THIS GUY)

Wwx: *the most ferocious glare we’ve seen him do so far*

Looks like somebody just won first place in wwx’s shit list

Then more plot stuff happens, we see nmj and meng yao break up, blah blah blah

And that’s the end of ep10!!!

This was...so hard, guys. So difficult. A trial, even. I had to wait for an ENTIRE HALF-HOUR TO GET A SIGNIFICANT PIECE OF WANGXIAN PIE.

I mean, yeah, i got to see xxc’s beautiful face, but GOD, AT WHAT COST??

Also, are you guys starting to notice a Thing about rooftops?

Because it’s there.

We’re def gonna have more Rooftop Moments

Stay tuned!

Return to Masterpost

#WangXiantics #the untamed #wangxian

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