#and as i get back to my sense of self i think this is a good thing to do

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Thinking about Jon’s self destructive behaviours because I think the gradual development of them, and how they intensify, is both very interesting and also very improtant in how the story ends.

Jon’s sacrifice in MAG200, his insistence on choosing the option that means giving his humanity up, getting the blood on his hands so no one else has to, condemning himself, it stems mostly from nearly three years worth of unchecked guilt, and his role as a scapegoat. He has to do the hard thing because no one else will, because only he, the monster, can.

The thing about Jon, is that Georgie was right, he needed a support system desperately - honestly most of the TMA characters do - but whatever support system he may have potentially had in people like Sasha, Tim and Martin had long since crumbled. Had he had that constant support, people there who saw him more as a man than a monster, who didn’t blame everything on him, I don’t think his self destructive tendencies would have gotten as bad as they did. He did have Martin and Daisy, but Martin was never around in season four, and I think with Daisy, there’s a whole other aspect to explore, especially with how she’s treated in comparison to him.

As a whole, a lot of his self destruction stems from how he views himself, as well as his position. By the time everyone else started trying to claim blame, it was far too late: the Eyepocalypse had begun and Jon was so used to being at fault, he could not see it any other way. He could not see himself as a victim.

This isn’t a jab at the others either, how they acted makes sense for their own positions, this post just happens to be focusing on Jon, and how this constant blame and dehumanisation impacted his mentality.

I think a lot about the small comment made by Basira (I believe it was?) on putting him down. It’s such a specific phrasing, that makes Jon feel less like a man and more like a sick dog that’s a danger to others and himself, and I think that summarises how he’s come to view himself, and how some view him, very well.

To summarise, if you treat a man like a monster, he’s going to start acting like he is one, and for all they tried to take that back, it was far too late to do so.

Again, not a jab at the other characters. I’ll probably be writing a post on Georgie soon honestly and how she reacts to these things, because God knows I do not blame her - I just need to rewatch some of the episodes for that.

This isn’t all my thoughts either as I am currently busy, but hey it gets the general idea across?

[brujamala-aka-gigi]

a tarot reading just in case you need to remember this: it's okay to be a bitch.

we all know good vibes, kindness and empathy are amazing traits and etc BUT... there's shitty people who don't deserve that and some of us can't pretend like we are not full of anger. "negative" emotions are just as valid as "positive" ones, they contribute to our growth and our character, and they also keep us same from further harm.

pile 1 pile 2 pile 3

pick a pile and let's find out what type of "bitch" behavior can bring something good to your life.

MASTERPOST & PAID SERVICES

xoxo gigi <3

images from pinterest and dividers by @ithemes 

plz excuse the shit quality pictures of the cards, i'm working on that but i didn't realize how bad they were until i uploaded them :(

btw I'm doing a poll so you can pick a day when its convenient for you and me to do an ask game on here, answer some questions with my tarots and give away readings from my menu.

Pile Number One

Hello there! So, the cards on this reading are mostly “positive” if we take a superficial approach, and ignore the prompt of this reading. What I see here is that, although there’s a sense of brightness, joy and enthusiasm that is typically associated with your identity, there’s a lot of your inner world that it’s not getting any chances to be manifested into your daily life. I think many people assume you are happier than you actually feel, and many people think the joys and blessings of your life came to you out of nowhere, they think you’re naturally successful, when in reality you are quite the hard worker. Nobody likes to be realistic in the struggle to achieve anything, so it's understandable to some extent that people are not seeing the actual strength and patience that it took you to be where you are. 

Personally, I think that sometimes it’s really hard to fight back against misconceptions on how hard do we actually have to work in order to get something, it’s even harder when people don’t allow you to express anger, and belittle any feeling that it’s not as comfortable to be around as your usual “good vibes”. You are the type of person who everyone is too lazy to understand beyond their own romantic ideas of you. Don’t let others dehumanize you like that, you are a person, not a secondary character in someone’s love life, or the sweet innocent sidekick, or the girl next door, or whatever. Embrace everything that makes you complex and misunderstood, as these are the things that will bring you closer to people who are actually interested in your true self. 

But, there’s absolutely nothing wrong if you’re being strategic about who gets to see your most genuine version and who doesn’t. I see a lot of prosperity for you in the future, and you might not be able to appreciate this now, but your career choices will make you quite happy eventually. Take a lot of time to reflect on the people you want to keep around you, trust your intuition and prioritize your mental health, don’t be afraid to communicate your emotions in ways that others might find uncomfortable, in the worst case, by doing this you will find out who actually deserves your time and energy. And please, don’t fall for the first person who shows any kind of romantic interest, this is not a great moment for you to deal with a relationship, as there’s some emotional work to do first. Be persistent with how you take care of yourself, be patient and kind to you in the same way you are with others. 

Pile Number Two

What I’m seeing a lot on these cards is a lack of closure and proper communication about it. I’m not necessarily talking about a situation that hasn’t been settled yet, but more so about the fact that you are able to perceive things deeper than the average person and whenever you can, you do go ahead and take the actions necessary in order to get things going in the way you know best. You are someone who moves quickly and efficiently, but others who are more dogmatic in their ways are beginning to find issue with this, forcing you to conform to spaces where everyone knows you are too overqualified to be in. 

I don’t think you are someone who is submissive or someone who allows people to walk all over you, but I see that you’re trying to find less conflictive approaches to issues and situations that you are used to solving in more explosive ways. Behaving in a more “diplomatic” or “assertive” way is not exactly what works for you, but at this point it is necessary that you learn to tolerate being put in this position. I don’t see you losing your values or your ideals, not even your personal strength. But I am concerned that you might be doubting yourself with things that are so bonded to your nature that you haven’t even thought twice about so far, and rightly so! You’re lucky that your determination and passionate ways, even when proving an inconvenience to others who don’t get it, has been channeled in such proactive ways. 

At this point, all I can tell you is that whenever you are being forced to remain in stagnation due to self doubt, you shouldn't attribute this to your lack of will to stick to norms and traditions, but more so, this situations happen because people around you need to catch up with what you already saw and processed. This means that many times you will have to choose between waiting or moving on by yourself. Be strategic about this, and always make sure that there are comfortable places for when you need to reflect and relax. Yes, many things have gone right for you by moving impulsively and following your gut, but imagine how much more you could accomplish if you took some time to plan. 

There’s nothing wrong with your creativity thriving in chaotic environments, there’s nothing wrong with being confrontational and hot headed, absolutely nothing bad about being perceived as hot headed and impulsive… just be more mindful on how to channel these parts of yourself. 

Pile Number 3

Okay, this is a complex set of cards for a complex and sensitive person.  What I'm seeing here is this sort of nostalgia other people have for a version of you that was painful to live for yourself. I think plenty of people were feeling too comfortable with you when you were not on top of your game or working towards your own personal happiness. I feel like you are now beginning to find new ways of questioning and deconstructing ideas and actions that are no longer serving your deeper desires, and you are sharing this with people who are not willing to join you in this path, while also alienating you from your own power to manifest into existence the person you want to become. 

As you are beginning to move away from spaces of comfort that were designed for a weakened version of yourself, you will realize there’s plenty of facades and deceitful half truths. It’s a shame that all you have during this moment is your own emotional intelligence and a well justified sense of hope, nobody should face things like this on their own. But being realistic, solitude is a strength in your case, and you will soon find out that this journey was meant to give you consciousness about the powers and strength, many have tried to hide from you in order for them to keep the spotlight. 

Don’t let others force you into being someone who is only an ornament or a tool for keeping a facade. Even if you are naturally generous, kind, empathetic, and altruistic, it’s not a betrayal of those values to focus on growing outside places that don’t deserve all your sensitivity. This is a moment where you will find plenty of personal characteristics that many have ignored or belittled, cultivate those and nurture your ability to exist on your own terms. You have more control than you think, and far more tools than you imagine. It takes bravery and intellect to take the steps you are taking into finding new ways of being yourself, while also being celebrated and respected. 

Always remember that many times, others will make you believe something crucial to you is a defect, or a disadvantage, but it’s up to you if you’re taking into consideration the thoughts of someone who doesn’t know why you are who you are, and who you are trying to be. (You shouldn't).

[the-moon-files]

Wait, quick idea! Twilight looks like the only hylian in his village because everyone else has round ears, so what if he wasn’t as surprised as the others to see their human companion so resilient, but still fairly impressed because of the fact that most if not all people in his village don’t put themselves in as drastic situations as the reader? Or is this just humans from our world?

get out of my head lmao /lh - you, me, and wayfayrr are actually the same person on diff accounts LMAO

im of the belief that (blame @wayfayrr, my beloved) that he knows of humans bc of some in his village but yeah, just not the type of human in drastic situations

(ALSO they wrote me a fun, long, glorious, male reader human space orc au fic for winning their raffle a bit ago, and it brings up their headcanon abt this and i Adore It actually, check it out here pls if u wanna know🤲)

(also if u see this wayfayrr, sorry for the ping, also should i be calling u moss? or wayfayrr?? idk which, i hope thats even ok to ask 😭 i assumed u would call my ass Moon)

Moon: Male-Masc Reader (he/him)

Orbit: short headcanons-ish, rambling mostly

Stars: Twilight Princess Link (Twi/Twilight), mentions of other Links

Comets & Meteors: CWs: none known, & TWs: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

to reiterate what i said up there, in case u skipped it for the bullet points,

i like the headcanon he knows humans, knows some of their quirks, and how they were the first ppl the other hylian villagers called on to help stuck cows or downed wagons, lots of heavy lifting stuff

but he really hasnt seen the extent of real humans, bc the humans who were in Ordon, well, they lived in hylian society,

why would they need the adrenaline to lift a car when hylians have set up whole tools and systems in all their towns to help lift just a full bucket of water out of the well??

not to mention, i think all the humans in his village were older adults? like at least not the age theyd be doing things like parkour or going to any trampoline parks type of age,

id imagine its more like stories talked about amongst hylians how hard humans can go, and even the humans themselves talked abt things like,

“well compared to u hylians, we have stomachs made of molten lava to you guys really, but we never have to use it, bc u know hylian food works just fine”

when Twi asked they would say stuff like that, but as soon as he saw ur human ass just picking wildflowers and berries off the side of the road to snack on? even random grasses/vines at some point (kudzu)?? easily eating Wild’s Dubious Food that's DEFINITELY got monster parts in it???! gnawing on the bone of a cucco and it just breaks??!!! and you look surprised too, thank fuck finally a normal reaction from u- oh my goddesses u were just curious (damn the elders were right abt human curiosity too) **and are now sucking out the marrow and eating the bone-!!!!!!!!!!!!

Twilight’s perspective of you is actually the equivalent of like, reading stories about vampires all ur life, then this new friend you made starts to get allergic to garlic, crave blood, has crazy strength and advanced senses, etc

and he’s just watching those honest-to-Hylia human mythological feats play out in real time in front of him, like he’s the only self-aware character in the story that immediately clocks the really obvious vampire as a vampire lmao

is the first to either 1. start choking on his laugh as he theoretically knows ur about to jump on the back of a lynel/hinox to ride it around and watch as the others come to the same conclusion OR 2. try to Stop you from jumping on said big monster in an attempt to ride it around bc he gets used to ur human BS quicker than the others and can see it coming a mile away now lol

very much so this meme:

(ur welcome i made it myself <3)

anyway id love to rant abt this dynamic

abt both Twi’s shock at you eating peppers like a god has come down from the sky to prove their immortality,

but also poor rancher esstientally humansitting you too lmao

the Chain/Time/Wars absolutely put him down as the resident human expert like: “ok he just drank like, 5? No- Four stop him from drinking more at least- (dual sighs). okay, 6 stamina potions, will that kill him??”

Twilight, saviour of Hyrule, of the Twili, Link from Twilight Princess himself,

has to keep a record book of all the new shit he’s heard/learned about humans in Ordon, what he has actively learned abt ur ass just fucking around and finding out, and the few bread crumbs of information u give him abt ur species

(that rlly just come off as kind of cryptid statements abt u/humanity, or don't apply in this scenario bc ur only comparison is Earth Rules, which honestly scare every single fucking one of them in the same way as walking on Ganon’s lawn or something, like straight up view ur home planet as enemy territory, the Amazon jungle, the Hyrule wilds if you will-)

Twilight also gets involuntarily volunteered for human-sitting duty too

tbh the only person Not allowed on human-sitting duty, when u guys go new areas esp, is Wild/Hyrule

you’d tell him you wanna get inside the guardian robot to operate it and ride it around and he’d probably be in shock you even fathomed something like that, yet also now EXTREMELY intrigued to watch it play out

(they’re both more of a “u wanna jump off a cliff?? that's actually crazy, wait for me please.” he seems to think he can somehow protect you if he joins you? its worked sometimes to be fair to him ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ just not really conveniently when the rest of the Chain are around lmao)

☆

i live btw, ive been writing/updating fics along with life updates (moving states/new job/online class) so a few asks will hopefully be answered over here in the next 2ish weeks

no promises, my life is kinda girlbossing at the moment too close to the sun and i am Nervous abt disappointing u guys

i already feel like im disappointing my other blog bc i haven't posted in forever bc im writing a fic instead of asks during any free time i dedicate to writing for it so :/

pls excuse my super slowness like a package ur waiting for in the mail or smth type of slow

AGAIN thanks for the ask!! i hope this was at least entertaining to read as some addon to what u said, you guys have gotta check out some of wayfayrr’s stuff if ur into this, bc they're the only other place i can think of that's talked abt humans not just being the same as hylians

have a great week!!

Peace out hugs and chaos,

🌙

[jenscx]

[02] tumblr girls — hopeless

it was cliché; being in love with danielle marsh, the straightest girl on earth. you thought your feelings were hopeless, until you discover her tumblr blog.

you toss and turn on your bed, messing up your duvet cover with your indecisiveness. danielle had said she would text you, but should you text her first since she hasn’t? or was it a little weird? would danielle find you desperate or weird? you let out a pathetic groan, throwing your phone away onto the other corner of your bed.

minji and hanni had offered no help and were entirely useless when you told them of your dilemma. after all, keeping your crush a secret from them was increasingly harder each day. might as well just tell them and maybe you would get some help. you were wrong.

“you’re asking us? we’ve spoken to like, 5 people our whole life, including each other,” hanni had said. minji, naturally, nods her head, agreeing.

your phone suddenly dings. eyes widened. hands instantly reach for the phone, fingers hastily scrolling to find danielle’s contact.

no new messages. you flop back onto your bed, feeling pitiful at your own self. if anyone saw you like this, desperate for a girl’s message, what would they say? your friends would definitely make fun of you.

staring at the ceiling, your eyes wander around your bedroom walls, filled with photographs of memories in school with your family and friends. the photograph pinned in the centre of it all, a class photo from last year. you had cut the photo out from the yearbook. you were near the side, smiling with arms tossed over minji and hanni’s shoulders. yet, right in the middle, danielle’s grin is even wider and is it strange if the sight of her immediately brings a smile onto your face?

your phone dings again, then it starts to spasm with notifications. you don’t even bother checking it, knowing it was probably hanni blowing up your phone about how minji was playing with her feelings again. god, maybe you should focus your energy on helping your best friends get together instead of being a sad, pitiful girl yearning for someone out of her league.

hanni, apparently, doesn’t get the hint that you’re ignoring her messages on purpose, and decides to call you. you let the phone ring for a bit before reluctantly picking up.

“y/n, i swear, can you please knock some sense into minji? i don’t care how you do it, like you could even punch her or slap her—”

“shut the hell up,” you groan, “she’s your best friend, you do something.”

“she’s yours too!” hanni retorts.

“okay but i’m not hopelessly in love with her!”

hanni scoffs. annoyance starts to seep in.

“what do you want, pham? what did minji do this time?” you ask. hanni wails loudly, “when you left to go find the love of your life, you know jake from chemistry? yeah, he came up to me and started asking for the homework. obviously, i told him and then minji started being all sulky!”

“sounds like she was jealous.”

“that’s what i’m saying! but maybe it’s the demons in my head and you’re just deluding me. anyway, i just let her sulk until when i get home, she texts me and asks if i’m dating jake? like girl, do i need to bash your head with a rock?” you wince at the increasingly loud tone of hanni. she seemed incredibly agitated.

you bring your phone’s speaker further away from your ear. “i wouldn’t go that far, but what did you say to her?”

“told her that i am not dating jake, we’re just friends because we’re lab partners. and then she was like, asking me if i was dating someone, i would tell her, right? but she’ll do all that, get jealous and shit, and then not look me in the eye the next day?” hanni whines. you feel a semblance of pity for your best friend. maybe minji was just struggling with coming to terms with her feelings.

“god, she’s so annoying. i hate her so much! she thinks she can tell me to trust her when i would literally murder someone for her.”

your best friends were stupid. maybe that’s why you were so drawn to becoming friends with them.

“hanni, you would murder someone for fun,” you frown.

“if you can’t tell, i’m rolling my eyes right now. and yes, i won’t deny that but—” a notification pops up.

danielle [9.47pm]:

hi yn! :))

“hanni, i’m hanging up now.”

“wait, what—”

you instantly press the hang up button, fingers rapidly scrolling to danielle’s chat. meanwhile, hanni blows up your phone, demanding you to answer. hesitating for a moment, you don’t click into her message. you didn’t want to seem too desperate or like you were waiting for her to text you (you were, obviously).

danielle [9.48pm]:

sry 4 the late text :(

just wanted to check

are u free tmrw?

for the project !!

before you could even stop yourself, your fingers start to type a response.

jeon yn [9.48pm]:

i’m free!

what time?

danielle [9.49pm]:

9 in the morning?

i heard our brains work

btr early in the morning :D

meet @ the library near sch!

you internally groan, hoping to sleep in during the weekend but anything for danielle, right?

jeon yn [9.50pm]:

yeah sure!!

see u then

danielle [9.51pm]:

goodnight!!

see u xx

see you. with kisses. your phone nearly drops onto your face. does danielle say that to anyone? or just you?

xx means kisses right? you weren’t going crazy? maybe you were. terribly deluded and indulged in danielle’s kindness, mistaking it for affection. god, you were a mess. why couldn’t you be some suave casanova who could actually talk to your crush without stuttering? seriously, was it just a danielle thing? you could easily converse with others on the daily (not that you did), but still!

the more you think about your situation, the more pitiful you feel. it’s only because of the project that danielle is even talking to you. maybe you should take the chance to show her your charming aspects, and not freeze up every time you see her. yes. that is exactly what you’ll do!

confident and determined, you start to search the common attractive features of someone’s personality. surely a girl like danielle would want an independent yet caring partner. she would need someone to take care of and take care of her. someone that she could rely on but still be emotionally open to talk. your determination starts to disappear when most attributes consist of masculine, strong and manly. right. she would want a man.

you go to sleep with a heavy heart, not bothering to close the tab. maybe it could be a constant reminder that the girl of your dreams is straight.

was this all hopeless?

your dreams, or nightmares, had been haunted by a blurry figure of a man standing next to danielle at the altar. a stretch for sure, since you were both still in high school, but just seeing the truth laid out in front of you was heartbreaking. clearly the contents of last night stirred you greatly. no way danielle was into girls, and if she was, she wouldn’t be into you. she’s a cheerleader, for god's sake, why would she entertain someone like you?

groaning, you quickly get out of bed. of course danielle was a morning person. she was sunshine itself. maybe that’s why she has so much energy and her skin is so luminous… you slap yourself gently, if you wanted to stop this deluded narrative of danielle liking you back, you had to prevent yourself from worshipping danielle like a deity.

taking one glance at your closet, you groan. why was it that on the day you were meeting danielle, all your clothes seemed horrendous? whatever, not like you had to impress her anyway. you throw on a white cropped button up with jeans. at least it was comfortable and breathable. not like you were gonna breathe anyway since you’ll be staring at danielle—

you curse your mind.

staring at the time, you finally decide to head out. even if you arrived early, you wouldn’t mind waiting. it was better to be early than late, you wouldn’t want to make a bad impression. and it was common decency! not like you wanted to portray yourself in a better light or anything…

ugh. you were pathetic. letting yourself be distracted by anything other than danielle, you start to make your way to the library. you hated it there; the librarian, mrs kwon, was not very fond of you after you had caused a domino effect with a bunch of books stacked up. honestly, it really wasn’t your fault. hanni and minji were just so annoying that you became fed up with them. a small cat fight had broken out, if you could really call it that, but hanni had shoved you into the towers of books. needless to say, you spent the rest of the afternoon helping mrs kwon.

you were kind of glad that living so closely to school meant you only had to ride a ten minute bus ride to the library. it was rather convenient. not convenient when your best friends came to your house unprompted and disturbed your peace and tranquillity.

maybe since you were already on the way, you could slip in some alone time and admire the seasonal changes. spring was beautiful. more butterflies and insects flying about. more flowers blooming. could anything be more perfect than spring? (danielle).

you put on your earphones, sighing comfortably as you watched the everchanging view. mere minutes later, you had arrived already. with fifteen minutes to spare, you quickly found a place to sit in the library. since exams haven’t begun yet, there was not a student in sight, only some little kids attending a book reading contest. you smile at the cute children who struggled to pronounce hard words.

a tug of your earbuds pull you out of your reverie. at first, you think that mrs kwon was going to scold you for coming back after the mess you had caused, but the small giggle let out made you realise it was danielle.

“what are you listening to?”

watching danielle with wide eyes, you struggle to formulate a response as she puts your left earbud in her own ear. her lips twitch with delight at the melody that fills her ears.

“clairo? i like her too,” danielle whispers. you swallow your saliva, “you do?”

“yeah,” danielle sends an award-winning smile, “i like sofia the most. do you like sofia?”

if you weren’t so caught up in your own delusions that danielle was the straightest girl alive, you might have eaten up the piece of meat she had left, deeming that girls that liked clario were devastatingly gay.

“uh, yeah.”

“i’ve never met someone else who likes clairo,” danielle confesses, “most of my friends are into rap.”

“rap’s cool too i guess… uh, what do you normally listen to?” you build up the courage to ask. danielle’s face lights up drastically.

“ariana grande, the beach boys, oh! bruno mars too.”

you raise an eyebrow, “a pop lover?”

“yeah! pop just makes me feel happy,” your heart clenches at the sight of her smile. was god drunk when he made danielle? this wasn’t good for your heart.

danielle continues rambling about music, which is the cutest thing ever, not that you would say that out loud. you just wear a smile on your face, genuinely happy to listen to her voice. it was so soothing and relaxing. if danielle told you to jump off a bridge, you would do it instantly.

“oh— sorry, did i say too much?” she asks nervously. you’re immediate to reassure her, “no, of course not. i was just mesmerised.”

danielle stares at you, confused.

“by what?”

“huh?”

“mesmerised by what?” she repeats. your mouth turns dry. mesmerised by the way her curly hair falls against her face. mesmerised by the way her eyes light up with happiness and glee. mesmerised by the way she actually sparkles under the sun.

“you have good music taste,” you say instead. danielle’s smile doesn’t falter.

“really?! i think you have better taste than i do though,” you don’t disagree. liking danielle is the pinnacle of good taste.

she turns to you, beaming, “could you recommend some songs to me?”

caught off guard, you hesitate to reject her. “uh, sure. i can make a playlist.”

“thanks! just send me the link and i’ll listen to it immediately!”

you nod, tempted to run out of the library to hide from the intensity of her stare. danielle, unknowing of your inner dilemma, only pulls out her laptop and stacks of notes.

“so! we have a project to do about human attraction!”

may god bless your soul.

jeon y/n [5.17pm]:

did u get home safe?

danielle [5.18pm]:

yupp!

thanks for buying me coffee too!

i’ll repay u next time :)

jeon y/n [5.18pm]:

next time?

danielle [5.18pm]:

next time we meet up!

we still have more to do

jeon y/n [5.19pm]:

ah… right

by the way

i added u on the playlist

danielle [5.20pm]:

oh my gosh

WAIT i have to listen now

you wait patiently for danielle’s reaction. the playlist was handcrafted with your own music taste and danielle’s revealed preference. coincidentally, there were a lot of love songs, not that you intended there to be. it seemed rather intimate to share your love of music to someone else, but danielle was the kind who would appreciate it.

it had almost been more than an hour until danielle finally texted back.

danielle [6.42pm]:

i love it omg

superior music taste.

jeon y/n [6.43pm]:

haha really?

i just put in songs i thought u would like

danielle [6.43pm]:

spot on.

amazing.

please add more :D

jeon y/n [6.43pm]:

of course!

rest well

danielle [6.44pm]:

u too!!! <3

you too. with a heart. like a lovesick fool, you fall asleep with a smile on your face, unwilling to be rid of.

masterlist | next

[jq37]

Would it be possible for you to briefly outline the gist of the Bad Kid’s relationships to each other in terms of individual pairs (i.e. Fig and Kristen, Riz and Fabian, Adaine and Gorgug, etc)? And if that’s too much, maybe specifically the Fig ones (I’m trying to get a sense of her friendships because they are so important to her).

This is SOOOOO late but I didn't have the time to write it when you sent it and then I figured I might as well wait till the end of the season to get a full picture and give the best answer. Hope it was worth the wait!

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

Fig and Fabian: Fig and Fabian are the two that most closely fit the classic "cool kid" archetype (though obviously we know Fig is mainly a big sweetheart and Fabian is a loser no matter how high he rolls). As far back as S1 they were playing the party faces and schmoozing Penelope together. I think their friendship now is exemplified by the fact that when Fabian wanted to threaten his banker, Fig was there as his first mate to help out, no questions asked and no payment required. They're each others, "I can count on you to do this bullshit with me," friends.

Fig and Riz: I think Fig knows she doesn't necessarily have as much in common with Riz naturally as she does with some of her other friends but she obviously respects and deeply cares for him. The main reason she started taking her classes seriously Junior Year is because the whole party passing together was really stressing him out and she spent some of her very limited downtime sending Riz a, "Thinking of you" not to lift his spirits (though she signed it from Gorgug because she can't help being chaotic). Similarly, I think Riz obviously cares a ton for Fig even though he finds 70% of what she does crazy. Think about him following behind her to clean things up as she pretended to be a doctor and had to do surgery in Freshman Year. But I think she's helped him lean into his chaotic side a bit more as well--I always think about their side mission to hell in Soph year and her going, "Hiss at her litigator!" And at the end of Junior Year, he comes to the conclusion of, "I gotta let her do her own thing and not pressure her to live by my standards." So lots of mutual respect.

Fig and Gorgug: Fig and Gorgug have been besties and bandmates since Freshman Year. I've always had the sense that Fig has some big sister style protective feelings towards Gorgug since he's often the gentle giant of the group and this season, she hyped him up a ton with his Barbificer stuff. I would argue that, besides his parents, Fig is Gorgug's biggest cheerleader.

Fig and Adaine: Fig ALSO has sister energy with Adaine but it's less "protective older sister" and more "odd couple playfully clashing". Think them burning spellslots to fight for the best rooms in Mordred in Soph year and Adaine foaming at the mouth to get info about her crush on Ayda. They're living under the same roof so we have to assume they have a lot more interactions that we don't see and I feel like Adaine probably really enjoys that she gets to have closer to a normal sibling relationship with Fig since her blood sister is Aelwyn and that relationship is intense and meaningful but nothing approaching normal. The teasing is there but so is the genuine love--remember how devastated Fig was when Adaine was taken to Falinel in Soph year despite their best efforts? And her long hug during the Baron fight this season even though they were VERY MUCH on the clock. And Fig was Wingwomaning hard (along with the rest of the Bad Kids) to help her notice Oisin. Also think about Fig having a whole crisis of self during The Last Stand and turning to Adaine for reassurance and Adaine just going, what? Girl, no you're awesome and painting an arcane bullseye on her target so she could smite like crazy. Despite the playful ribbing, they have very supportive sister energy. "Absolutely my king, whatever you want."

Fig and Kristen: I think Fig and Kristen have two big things is common. One is they're both very chaotic people and the other is they have both gone through kind of intense rebellious periods spurred by or resulting in family trauma. Because of that, I think they likely get each other a bit better than the others might (and we can see that Fig followed in Kristen's footsteps a ton this season god-wise). Fig also decided to take on the protective, German Shepherd role over Kristen this past season which I think is partially for the bit, partially about personal development, and partially about just how much she genuinely wants to help protect Kristen.

Fabian and Riz: Classic jock/nerd friendship. The original Bardy Boys. The kind of friendship that is made special by the absolute lack of obvious commonality between the two parties. "The Ball" is a friendly nickname now. Oh how the turns have tabled.

Fabian and Gorgug: Fabian started out the series by attacking Gorgug for no good reason while he was being gifted a tin flower and midway through this season he was like Gorgug, you're quitting Bloodrush? I'm gonna miss you :(((((( even though they're still fully in a party together and spend so much time together. The bro energy has completely solidified. It's also funny that Fabian texted Gorgug like, "Congrats on making it with Mary Ann!" and Gorgug was like, "You do know I've had sex before, right? I come from an extremely sex positive household and I had a steady girlfriend for two years who also came from an extremely sex positive household." Fabian has all the aesthetics of a cool kid but Gorgug is actually about that life, lol.

Fabian and Adaine: This is another pair that I think has serious sibling energy (and not just bc they both have posh high elf backgrounds). I'm thinking about Fabian yelling for Adaine's help during The Last Stand (even though she was like why am I the one you're calling for help right now???). I'm also thinking about Adaine being like Fabian hit me :( during the Baron encounter and Fabian being outraged at the thought that he would ever hit her. I think if you asked Fabian, he'd say his best friends are Riz and Adaine (which is really funny considering they're the nerds of the group).

Fabian and Kristen: Bad decision buddies with no game who are still somehow getting their kisses in.

Riz and Gorgug: I think that Riz was one of the Bad Kids who realized how smart Gorgug really is the fastest. He's always like, "Nice one Gorgug," when he offhandedly comes up with a connection that helps solve the mystery and I feel like they have to work on gear and gadgets together. I think the fact that Riz believed Fig's lie that Gorgug wrote him the encouraging note says a lot and the fact that Gorgug immediately made him a real present (the Medal of Wit) also says a lot.

Riz and Adaine: Party nerds, investigation buddies, voices of reason with specific things that get them unreasonably angry. They are the only ones who were excited that there was an academic portion of The Last Stand. Riz made Adaine a folder with nothing in it at the beginning of Junior Year to say, "I'm not worried about you but I want you to be included anyway." Adaine in a conversation to I don't remember who said that she knows that at the very least she and Riz are going to college together. When everyone was wasting questions questioning Bakur, Riz told everyone to shut up except for Adaine and himself. They are the braincells of the operation and they have party nerd solidarity.

Riz and Kristen: I think Riz has a similar relationship to Kristen that he does to Fig. This season he was her right hand man with campaign stuff but ended the season like hey, do you. I don't want to put pressure on you. And Kristen in turn I think appreciated his efforts a bit more by the end of the season. I feel like it's easy to feel like their relationship is unbalanced but I think Riz is a lot like his dad and he not only feels weird when he's not working but also shows his love by working so it's more symbiotic than it may seem at surface level.

Gorgug and Adaine: Gorgug and Adaine don't interact the most, but I feel in my heart that they have a lot of chill, lo-fi study time together. This is me extrapolating a bit but I think they kind of inherently balance each other out. Gorgug being mechanically big and full of rage but really sweet. Adaine being small and polite but full of so much rage. In-universe you know she spends a ton of time standing directly behind him and casting spells while he soaks damage. That's gotta give you a special kind of camaraderie.

Gorgug and Kristen: Whenever I think about Gorgug and Kristen, I always picture them in Sophomore Year, Going Through It with their girlfriends at the same time, lol.

Adaine and Kristen: I think Adaine and Kristen's whole relationship is best summed up by three actions. (1) Adaine casting Friends on her to make her go to school so she won't fail and then Kristen giving her the Help action to be charmed. (2) Kristen making the effort to be mean-nice to Aelwyn because presumably Adaine told her she likes that better. (3) K2 being sent way and Kristen being like, "I did enjoy having a sister" and Adaine immediately going, "I'm your sister." (Which, from her history, you know isn't something she'd say lightly). I think Adaine is often exasperated by the insane shit Kristen does (see eg: ribbon dancing) but she was also right there hyping her up and helping her cover during the "Past the test to give me new spells" fiasco at the food trucks. At the end of the day, Kristen respects the hell out of Adaine and Adaine is ride or die for Kristen.

[i-heart-hxh]

I was rewatching HxH recently and I’m kind of confused about Killua’s doubt about Gon’s friendship in the CA arc. Gon has told Killua multiple times that he is his best friend and even stated that Killua was part of his current life goal (meeting Ging but specifically introducing Killua to Ging). So why is Killua wondering if he’s a teammate or a friend during the palace invasion? Nothing actually happened up until that point to make it seem like Gon no longer considered him a friend so where is this doubt even coming from? I just don’t get where this “which is it” crisis even came from. Gon never suggested Killua was no longer a friend but now he has to pay the consequences of not knowing what’s going on in Killua’s head.

And on that note, I think it was unfair of Killua to part from Gon letting him think that his actions caused the separation. Especially when he is clearly contrite and was in the middle of a psychotic break when he snapped at Killua.

Hi! This is a great question, and something that confused me my first time through the series as well.

I actually talked about this topic here as an addition/extension to @tjlnn22's awesome post about how the aftermath of Gon's date with Palm and Gon's concern about Palm during the palace invasion played a role in Killua feeling uncertain about his role in Gon's life. I highly recommend reading the whole post because it makes the series of events more clear and understandable and lays it out with actual manga pages, but I'll talk about it a bit here as well. (Apologies if I end up repeating myself some--I sometimes I like to restate things in case it's helpful to someone!)

It is strange that Killua fixates on this friend/tomodachi vs comrade/nakama topic during Chimera Ant Arc, after Gon declared Killua his best friend in the whole world not long ago at all. As the audience, I think we're supposed to question this as well--after all, that declaration from Gon at the end of Greed Island was a major moment in the series, we haven't seen the two of them have any major falling out, and Gon hasn't directly said anything to Killua that might contradict them still being best friends. So, why this crisis all the sudden?

Killua's insecurity boils down to two major factors:

Gon wants to fight Pitou alone, and Killua defines himself in relation to Gon via acts of service--his self-esteem hinges on how useful he can be to Gon. (Remember when he nearly died and the last thing he said was apologizing to Gon for not being of more use?) Gon denying Killua the ability to fight alongside him in such an important mission likely feels to like a rejection to Killua, to a degree. Think of how much it meant to Killua to be relied upon by Gon in the dodgeball match. This is in conjunction with Killua feeling like he failed Gon when he fled from Pitou and left Kite to die, and also the needle's effects in general (causing him to flee when up against strong opponents) make Killua feel like a failure, someone unworthy of being at Gon's side.

His sense of his place at Gon's side is also disrupted by Gon's date with Palm and Gon being worried about Palm during the mission. There is very strong evidence (again, here) that the date and aftermath of it seriously impacts Killua, including over the longer term, and makes him wonder who he is to Gon, anyway. This idea gets brought up again and again, and when Killua has his sobbing breakdown in front of Palm, it's because he's thinking about the possibility that Palm means more to Gon than him.

It's both of these factors, not just one or the other.

Chimera Ant arc keeps circling back to questions around Killua's relationship to Gon and what the meaning of it is, specifically bringing up the concept of romantic love directly around it repeatedly. As the audience, many of us find it confusing that Killua is wondering if he's still Gon's friend when their status as friends has been so clear throughout the series and never seemed to fall into question. Even Gon choosing to fight Pitou alone doesn't explain the crisis Killua is having over this.

I personally think this crisis is really about Killua's romantic feelings for Gon, with the language somewhat obfuscated because ultimately this is a Jump manga and I believe Togashi knows people who understand the subtext will get it (keep in mind just how much subtext there is in this arc overall), and those who don't will just puzzle over it a bit and maybe consider the context the rest of the arc provides. Killua himself also might not have full awareness of or be unwilling to admit to himself fully why he's so upset about this situation and therefore mentally frame it as "friends or comrades," too. It's basically about how much he means to Gon, regardless.

If you remove Killua's romantic feelings for Gon from the puzzle, the conflict he's having doesn't entirely make sense, but when you do consider it, it suddenly makes a lot more sense. He's worried about whether Gon sees him the same way he sees Gon, and because he believes Gon is "dating" Palm and has feelings for her, he's struggling with what he sees as a mismatch in their feelings for each other. Is he Gon's beloved #1 person and partner, or is he just someone Gon works with to reach goals? Does Gon love Killua the way Killua loves Gon, or not? It's a common trope in romance, something you'd see in a shoujo manga. Taken in conjunction with all the other romantic subtext in the series, it's a conclusion that works for me. I think it's just lightly "coded" to keep it somewhat below the surface and have some plausible deniability.

On your final point, we actually don't know what Killua said to Gon about the parting because we never saw the full conversations between them on the subject. During the separation, Killua teases Gon about what happened during Chimera Ant Arc, but he doesn't blame Gon or say that Gon is why they're splitting up. If anything, he emphasizes it's because he decided he needs to be with Alluka and protect her. So, I don't think it's fair to blame Killua for something he didn't actually do, as far as we know.

[utilitycaster]

Hope I can phrase this in a way that makes sense but—

What well-known actual-play cast member is your favorite for each of the core D&D class? Not necessarily a specific characters, but I’m interested in which players you think brings the most to each class.

This is a very interesting question! It's a hard one to answer for some classes and very easy for others so bear with me; also there are a couple where I could not pick just one.

I'm sticking to the PHB 12 for, as you said, core classes:

Barbarian: While Travis did give us "I would like to rage," I think Ashley and Taliesin get to share this one for me. I think they both really explore what rage means to someone and while I love a good "I'm a tank because I can take the hits and that's what I do and what I'm good at" story, I also think Yasha's messy relationship with her feelings of guilt and grief, and Ashton's chronic pain, are both incredible ways to play with the barbarian archetype.

Bard: much easier. Sam Riegel and Krystina Arielle. I'm a sucker for someone who actually sings even as I don't think you have to (and have played bard without doing so). It's both clearly a class they each love dearly and it shows, and they're incredibly musically talented performers to boot.

Cleric: Lou Wilson. Especially since I didn't like Fantasy High season 1 Fabian until the end of the season Kingston blew me away. I would love to see him explore cleric again, though it's exciting to see him as a paladin on WBN.

Druid: Emily Axford as Moonshine. Emily as a rule understands D&D classes very well anyway, but I think the culture of the crick and the ways that Moonshine must grow as a character while being a druid take it to the next level. (Also I prefer a caster-heavy druid to a shapechanger-heavy one; that's just me).

Fighter: Back to NADDPod because literally who could I say other than Jake Hurwitz, the man who only plays fighters. People who are new to D&D when they start actual play can be hit or miss imo; some pick it up and some lean harder on being showy to make up for it and it doesn't play well for me personally, but Jake is the greatest hit.

Monk: Marisha Ray; Beau is just generally a great character, and I think Marisha's own experience with martial arts informs the way she plays her; monks can be kind of repetitive in combat even with strong players and she manages to avoid this through her description.

Paladin: This is actually super hard because people don't play straight paladin a lot. This is incorrect of them, but it is an intense class. I think Luis Carazo and Zac Oyama are like...the duality of paladin (and indeed, redemption paladin). The tragedy and the comedy.

Ranger: Laura Bailey, natch; it's funny because Vex is in many ways not the archetypal ranger due to having high charisma, but she is simply my favorite and that's that on that. Sorry the mechanics were so bad; I would love to see more rangers in D&D even though Vex will be hard to dethrone. I promise Tasha's fixed them!

Rogue: I think I'm actually going Murph on this one. I like when rogues are more of the detective/spy type than the assassin/criminal type [obligatory "of course that's what you'd say you stupid paladin stan"] and inquisitive and arcane trickster are probably my two top rogue classes so Riz it is.

Sorcerer: I do consider PF1e cheating here because it's technically a different system that also imo addresses a lot of the weaknesses of sorcerer/makes it way better, but Bryn Monroe of RQG did play a great sorcerer. In D&D? Giving Emily Axford a second spot here for Saccharina. I'm going to talk about this for warlock, but I think sorcerer is a class you don't have to justify but if you don't it's a little unsatisfying. Sorcerer really shines in the Crown of Candy setting, and metamagic often doesn't live up to its reputation but Emily makes it work for her.

Warlock: Travis Willingham. I think there are classes that are kind of self-explanatory, for lack of a better term; you can play a fighter or rogue or even a bard or druid without going super deep into why the character is this class and still be an incredible character (though a good backstory never hurts). But there are others where you really need to be engaging with the class at all times to make it work, and warlock is one of them, and Fjord explores the warlock pact and what it means like few others.

Wizard: Aabria Iyengar. NO ONE gets wizard hubris as a player like Aabria. Knowledge is power and boy do wizards love knowledge. I especially like that most people in 5e play wizards as genuine adventurers because it feels very easy to play them as old guy in robes swept up in events beyond them; Aabria plays wizards who are combat ready with the humanity and backstory to make the difficult decisions sympathetic and meaningful, and I think that's how you have to play it.

Note: I want to specifically call out Liam O'Brien and Siobhan Thompson as "people I trust in basically any class or system and just didn't happen to hit a favorite here due to sky-high competition/personal preferences". They are both very close seconds for wizard.

[seramilla]

So fluffy idea Carmilla after a bad divorce decides she needs some time away so she books a long vacation for herself and the girls at a beach resort. While there she meets the manager of the resort Sera and they hit it off.

Carmilla had never wanted to put her girls through this. At one point in time, she had genuinely loved their father. But after years of neglect of his family, and finding solace at the bottom of a bottle, instead of the women in his life who loved him most, Carmilla had ultimately decided to divorce her husband.

It was long, and dirty, and brutal, and at the end of the process, Carmilla had given up more than she'd intended when all was said and done. She had kept the house, but half of her self-made fortune had gone to her husband; it had been the only way to get him to agree to give her full custody of Odette and Clara.

He'd made it clear he didn't want to have anything to do with them anymore. It was worth it to get him out of their hair. And after all that, she thinks she and the girls deserve a vacation.

Much to her surprise and delight, the first person to greet the Carmines at the beachside resort they'll be staying at, is a beautiful woman with hair like clouds and eyes like twin stars. She's...almost ethereal, in the way she looks at Carmilla. The woman is breathtaking.

She's also the owner of the resort, and is probably only being nice to Carmilla because she has to. Still...god-damn. Carmilla is patting herself on the back for making this absolutely correct choice of hotels for their vacation.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," the owner says, typing away at her computer all the while. "My name is Sera. I'll be your host during your stay. How can I help you today?"

"Umm...Carmine. Carmilla Carmine. I have a reservation for three."

Sera looks past Carmilla, seemingly noticing the two younger women behind her on their phones. Sera smiles, beaming at the oblivious teenagers as she pulls up Carmilla's reservation to confirm.

"Those are some lovely girls you have there. I have a younger sister about that age. Children are so wonderful. It's simply amazing to watch them grow!"

A pang of something soft and mushy pulls at Carmilla's heart at Sera's words. There's nothing that Carmilla loves more than her daughters...they are her prides and joy. The only good thing to come out of a marriage that was frankly doomed from the start. To hear this woman speak so highly of her sister...it tugs at Carmilla's maternal side like nothing ever has before.

"Yes," Carmilla says, a great deal of admiration coming through in her voice. "My girls mean everything to me. Even if they can be grumpy now and then."

Odette and Clara groan behind their mother, clearly done with her little comments about their demeanor. Carmilla and Sera laugh in unison. It's a little fun to get the girls riled up, now and then. It's only in good fun as their mother.

Sera takes the credit card from Carmilla that she'd used to make her reservation, and activates the little key cards they need to enter their suite for the next week of their stay. As she's giving the little envelope with the key cards to Carmilla, Sera's hand lingers against the other woman's for just a moment. It's a soft, barely-there touch, but there is a sense of intent and sincerity behind it.

Carmilla looks up at Sera, and the woman is blushing slightly. Carmilla is, too, if she's honest. Both women clear their throats awkwardly, and Sera smiles at her again, beaming.

Sera writes something on a piece of hotel stationary, and hands it to Carmilla directly. Carmilla looks down at the paper. It's a phone number.

"If there is anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable, please do not hesitate to let me know," Sera says. "That's my direct number. I will take care of anything you need personally."

Carmilla stares, maybe a bit too long...this woman had just given her a personal phone number. Not the one for the front desk. But her cell phone.

"Um...thank you, Sera! I most certainly will."

Carmilla hadn't exactly signed up for meeting a gorgeous, self-made woman who is so transparently into her while on this vacation. But it is not an unwelcome turn of events. Not in the least. She walks with the girls to the elevator in the lobby, with just a subtle skip to her step the entire way.

"That was so gross, Mom," Clara says, making a gagging motion with her finger in her mouth.

"Shut up, Clara," Odette says, coming to her mother's defense. "I think it's sweet! Mom was actually twitterpated!"

As the elevator dings upon the arrival to their floor, Carmilla ruffles both of her daughters' hair with her hands before stepping out. Once again, their ensuing double groan is adorable.

"I love you girls," Carmilla says. "But if either one of you ruins this for me, I will make the next week of your lives absolutely miserable."

[sinisterexaggerator]

Final Straw

Nick Valentine x Fem Reader | Ao3

Summary: You're sick to death of listening to people insult and belittle Nick; you take matters into your own hands, much to the Synth's surprise, but your methods are a little bit unorthodox.

Warnings: None, except for blood, violence, and foul language. NICK GETS SUPER PISSED AT YOU, and you also share a kiss. 💋

IT'S FLUFF.

Notes: This is SELF-INDULGENT AF. I hate it when people insult Nick in the game. This is my way of getting them back! And I want to kiss him and tell him I love him so bad. ;-:

Word count: 2k

It was the final straw, the one that broke the brahmin’s back, Nick Valentine left to defend himself against hate and bigotry for the umpteenth time, and you would not be party to it.

For so long you had traveled by Nick’s side, learning of the many facets to his personality. If there was a single thing about him you did not like, it had to be the ease with which he practiced self-deprecation, not knowing how to remedy the awful perception he had about himself.

Oftentimes, he regurgitated what came out the mouths of others; it had been internalized, compartmentalized, processed, and stored in his long-term memory, the detective unable to let things go—just like so many cases that remained unsolved.

“Shit, a Synth— don’t come near me. What a freak, thinks he’s human…”

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t go near you if it meant tomorrow I’d wake up from this nightmare.”

Your soul ached, knowing that every insult, every snide remark caused some level of psychic damage to your partner, his expressions all too readable for those times he was robbed of his fragile dignity, though always walking away the bigger man.

A culmination of varying factors led you to this, Nick’s tragic past haunting not only himself, but you; what you wouldn’t give to make it better, only wishing you had the power to convince him he was worth more than half the Commonwealth combined.

If Valentine could equate himself to nothing more than garbage, you could be the one to remind him that someone else’s trash was frequently another’s treasure— in this case, he was yours.

Though not privy to your feelings, you adored Nick completely. So much so, you were not above engaging in a physical altercation on his behalf.

“Say that again,” you threatened scathingly, turning to face the asshole who had just dared to disrespect your companion, and for no good reason.

“I said he’s a freak, lady—and what’s a pretty thing like you doing traveling with him, anyway?” the ill-mannered caravan guard asked, acting as if Valentine was some disease he could catch, making a blatant show of his disgust. 

The hired gun pulled no reaction from the Synth, though Nick stared at you tight-lipped, unnatural, glowing eyes trained hard on your face. His silence spoke volumes, instructing you with a stern look beneath the shade of his hat to drop the matter and turn the other cheek—it was something you weren’t willing to do this time, meeting your newfound enemy head-on.

“Apologize!” you demanded, shoving your adversary backward with a forceful push, both your palms making contact with his ribs. Your cheeks burned, accompanying a rise in your temper, readying yourself for if this vermin should do anything but grovel at Nick’s feet.

“Forget it, this guy ain’t worth it,” Nick offered laconically, hoping to appeal to your common sense. “I’ve heard worse in my time; being called a freak is the least of my concerns.”

“But you’re worth it!” you protested, Valentine’s forehead arcing upward at the conviction in your voice. He had a momentary lapse, his concentration faltering as he tried to get a handle on the situation, Nick having visualized an entirely different outcome based on variables that were currently in flux—namely the sudden change in your mood.

It seemed the shithead had caught on, smarter than he looked, eyeing the two of you with suspicion and derision, as if the very idea you could have feelings toward this hunk of junk was baffling when able-bodied, strong men like him existed.   

“Oh, I get it. You’re real sick, lady, a real pervert—you fucking a machine? What’s the matter, human men aren’t good en—”

The jerk was cut off mid-sentence, your balled up fist coming into contact with his jaw; a resounding crack split sound waves as blood spurted from his lips. His colleagues had already wandered off down the road, not wanting to be a part of whatever trouble he had found himself in, having silently agreed to let this member of their team fend for himself.

“You fucking bitch!” the guard twice your size growled, swinging wildly only to miss. Your leg extended; you were pleased when he stumbled, only wishing he had fallen flat on his face.

“Now, wait a—”

He was quick to right himself, spinning on the ball of his heel—you were quicker, kneeing him in the nuts so hard he doubled over, but you weren’t finished yet.

Lifting your arm to gain momentum, you drove the point of your elbow into his spine, causing the offender to drop onto the dirt at your feet.

“I'd say he's down for the—”

Nick couldn’t get a word out; you didn’t appear to be listening, the android observing your uncharacteristic actions with rapt concern. You were pounding your knuckles into the bastard’s nose repeatedly, sticky crimson coating your fist and the man’s sorely wounded face.

As if coming to from a trance, Valentine whisked forward, snatching your wrist before you could cause the poor schmuck any more damage, thinking he may look worse off than even he, what with his bare wires and metal frame exposed to the elements.

“Hey! What’s gotten into you?!” Nick barked, his tone alone condemning your inappropriate conduct, the Synth yanking you up so fast you audibly gasped.

“There ain’t no excuse for this—this guy may be a jackass, but that doesn’t mean he deserves to die!” Nick protested, brows knit in anger the likes of which you had never seen.

You glanced down, only now seeming to notice the extent of his injuries; the man was out like a light. You only cared because he did.

“Nick, I—” you began, voice quavering, losing all resolve as you had been forced to witness Valentine’s sweet disposition vanish, quickly replaced by something undeniably frightening.

You never once imagined yourself to be the victim of his choler, finding you absolutely hated it, breaking down all at once to cry despite not meaning to. You felt simultaneously overwhelmed by guilt and embarrassed beyond measure, unable to look him in the eye.

“Don’t Nick me, this isn’t like you, this—” The man froze, his grip slackening as he loosely held on, thoroughly confused by how you could go from nearly murdering a man in cold blood with your bare hands, to shedding tears in the span of under a minute; he moved to grasp you by your shoulders.

“What’s going on?” he asked, perplexed, the question dry on his tongue. He searched your face for any hint of what the matter was, wondering if you’d lost a screw sometime after leaving Diamond City, as he thought he had a handle on how you operated.

You could not will yourself to respond, vision clouded, droplets pelting your cheeks as you gazed at the ground. You felt worse than a scolded child; you had never meant to upset him so, it being decidedly more terrible than any physical pain you had yet to endure.

“Look at me, damn you!” Valentine demanded, gently jostling you back to the present moment, though your tears only increased, Nick having never cursed at you before.

“Valentine,” you whispered, eyes shimmering, Nick’s fury subsiding to a dull roar as he waited for you to explain yourself. The crease of his brow evened out, the Synth notably more relaxed, though he did not trust you wouldn’t lash out again.

“Go on,” he urged sharply, wanting to get to the bottom of your behavior. It was unnerving, not knowing what else you were capable of at the drop of a dime.

It was an understatement to say that he was surprised when you lifted your arms, pulling the man forward to enfold in your tight embrace. You buried your cheek in the tattered, stained fabric of his coat, crying more softly now as it started to rain.

“Don’t listen to them,” you pleaded, “don’t ever listen to them. You’re perfect just the way you are,” you spoke with earnest, your lips pressing a tender kiss to the spot that lacked a heartbeat, though the gesture stood apart on its own.

“I can’t stand it—the way people treat you, the way they talk down to you—if only they knew—if only they could see what I see—” you sobbed, the sound of your cries muffled against his chest; it was firm, his shirt smelling like coolant and ozone—cigarettes mixed with something earthy—you breathed in deeply, overcome with silent relief when Nick placed his metallic hand on the crown of your head.

“I... I appreciate you, doll,” he started, his voice turning toward a soothing cadence, the way he pet your hair in long, slow strokes comforting you more than it should. “But you didn’t have to do that; would have preferred if you didn’t. Jerks like him get their comeuppance, but it shouldn’t be at the price of dirtying your hands.”

You had never been this intimate with him, nor had you ever planned to be—his words were unscripted, and his affection given of his own volition. You curled in tighter, nuzzling your way into the crook of his good arm, wanting to entomb yourself there for all eternity.

“I’m sorry,” you offered apologetically, feeling the pressure of Nick’s own arms around you, returning your hug, making you feel as if you could die happy at this moment, not minding in the least that there was an unconscious, bleeding man lying only a hairbreadth away. “It hurts me, like I know it hurts you.”

Nick was quiet, mulling over the fact it didn’t do you or him any good to disparage his own person when there were others to do it for him. He had never considered the effect it might have on those around him; it came naturally to want to harp on his own shortcomings—or had it come natural to the real Nick? That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it.

“You’re right, it does. But I shouldn’t let it bother me, not when I have people like you by my side.”

“I love you, Valentine,” you countered, not recognizing the softness of your own voice. You felt a shift beneath you, your head being coaxed to rise by way of a slow tilt of your chin.

Nick stared down at you, gleaming, golden eyes emoting dolefully as he gazed into yours. He held a deep-seated sorrow, not only for you, but for himself, wishing that he was human, if only so he could touch you, hold you, kiss you the way he wanted to.

“That’s not the smartest thing you’ve ever said, but I take it you mean that,” Valentine replied, bending low to brush soft, silicone lips across yours of flesh and blood; they were cool and rough in texture, but not unpleasant. The fact he was kissing you at all was a dream come true.

“With all my heart,” you replied, cupping the Synth's battered cheek in the bowl of your palm, fingers trailing over artificial skin in a light caress.

“So, that’s what this was all about,” he remarked, conjuring up a smile. “You know, I’d give you mine,” he added solemnly, his glum tone indicative of something he was not telling you.

Instead of elaborating, Nick changed the subject, always one to brighten a dark mood. “Next time, just tell me what’s on your mind instead of beating the living daylights out of some poor schmo, all right?”

You managed a smile of your own, delighting in his sarcasm, glad for the fact your confession had taken a lighthearted turn. “I can’t make any promises,” you quipped.

The detective gave a small shake of his head, that lopsided, infectious grin of his spreading up one side of his face. “Taking a page out of my book, are you?”

“I learned from the best,” you breathed, kissing him once more. Though selfish of you, for all you cared, the world could undergo another nuclear war, and you wouldn’t bat a lash, not for as long as you had your funny Valentine.

[marlynnofmany]

Faceoff

Ever get cognitive whiplash going from one group of aliens to another? You’d think I’d be used to the variety since I’ve spent so much time bopping around the galaxy, but some things just catch you by surprise.

It was a simple difference. I’d been talking with my smallest crewmates while we walked into the space station, trying not to loom over anybody or step on a tentacle in close quarters. The hallway between our corner of the docks and the central concourse was a narrow one. Then Coals realized he’d left something on the ship, and Paint volunteered to go back with him to help find it, and Mimi took a side corridor off to the public bathrooms, with a comment about checking how the local mechanics handled sanitization fields.

It’s possible that he even meant that. As long as he didn’t steal any parts for our ship, I was more than happy to let the octopus alien’s bathroom time be his own business.

I was thinking that, still slouching a bit after waving goodbye to Paint, when I turned a corner and was suddenly the smallest person around.

Hulking shapes in scales and space suits filled my vision, clustered near the entrance with no way to see past, much less wriggle by. I hadn’t heard the voices over the chatter of the crowd that had to be out there somewhere, and the ambient music. (Something with drums. Much better than the leg-singing screeches from the last station we visited. At any rate, it was loud.)

I stopped in my tracks and straightened up, glad I hadn’t slammed into the broad back in front of me. The spacesuited individual wasn’t even looking, and neither were the other two next to him. (Her? No idea.) I couldn’t see the faces from where I was standing, just the burly, hunched shoulders, and the short reptilian tail. Smashers, that was the name for these guys. I’d never been on the receiving end of their disapproval, and I wasn’t about to start.

The raised voices got louder. I peeked past a giant elbow to see that some scaly members of this huddle seemed to be facing off with the Smashers.

Uh oh. The scaly guys were Armorlites. While most races that I’d met were likely to take the threat of a good smashing and back away, Armorlites never backed away from anything, even (especially) if it was a good idea. Not that I would speak ill of any intelligent race’s common sense, mind you. It’s just that after a few run-ins with these frat house dinosaurs, I had something of an opinion about their skills in diplomacy.

Picture a T-rex with good arms and bad self-preservation sense, baring his teeth at someone roughly his own height, who’s wearing a space suit and speaking in the deepest of voices that makes the very air vibrate. I’d honestly thought it was part of the music, an instrument I didn’t recognize.

But no. It was threats.

“You think you can just claim a table here without paying your respects?”

The Armorlite in front waggled his claws. “We can claim anything we want. You should be respecting me!”

“You’ve got to earn respect, blunt-fang.”

Those were definitely fighting words, and I was concerned. I hopped in place, trying to peek around the meat slab blockade to see if the station had any kind of security forces nearby. No luck. And with the music thumping away, I couldn’t tell what reactions the people on the other side were having to this confrontation.

Just as I turned to rush back down the corridor, the group broke out into sudden movement, all of them lunging and dodging. I watched over my shoulder for a couple of steps, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Were the Smashers aiming to head-butt the Armorlites with their face shields? Those things weren’t rated for combat. Unless they were. Or —

Unless they were dancing instead.

I stopped dead as the laughter registered in my brain. The two groups were having an honest-to-goodness dance-off next to the food court, and that had been the plan from the start.

“You’ve gotten slow, with footwork like that! I thought this would be a challenge!”

“I’ll show you a challenge! Stand back with your short tail, and let a real expert show you how it’s done!”

“Oh, a real expert? Did you bring one with you?”

The trash talk and deep-voiced chuckles blended with the music while the crowd of giants stomped and jumped and spun. They moved away from the entrance a bit so they’d have room to properly cut a rug, and I caught glimpses of many staring faces at a safe distance. Not a single security officer was among them. Several recording devices were, though.

I edged back in their direction, cautious of flying elbows, and sidled along close to the wall. A cluster of Frillians moved aside to let me escape, busy as they were with filming the dance battle and also laughing about it. They were on the tall side for their own species, but downright spindly compared to the dancers.

Once past, I took a deep breath. I’d reached the food court. Nice to see that it was populated by a range of species, all of whom were going about their day as if this kind of nonsense happened all the time here.

I stood tall and set out to find some human food. There was bound to be someplace that carried Earth cuisine — likely mixed together in bizarre combinations that no Earthling would have done on purpose, but little surprises are a way of life out here.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[littleplantfreak]

Run my hands through - Umemiya Hajime

Made a post about how much i loved Ume with his hair down yesterday and ended up writing something entirely self indulgent //gestures at this official art too

-SFW (but almost wasn't I almost got super carried away but deleted it cause I leave smut to the professionals) so uhhh marking/hickeys, hair pulling, makin' out with Umemiya and slightly possessive behavior on readers part but in a silly way if that makes sense just in case anyone has problems with that stuff.

You're looking at him more than usual. Umemiya can feel your eyes boring into the back of his head while he's re-potting plants on the roof. He asked you about it before but all you do is hum and say you think you're staring a normal amount. Of course he doesn't mind, but it feels like he's under a microscope. When he asked Kotoha if she knew why you were acting weird, she shrugged and said you'd were looking at some old pictures at the children's home so maybe you'd just been noting how different he looked in his childhood pictures. She ended it with a look and tone that conveyed you'd already asked her to keep something secret.

-----

It's his hair again. The hair that's always gelled back in a slight wave keeping it out of his face completely. It's not hard to break it free from the glassy prison he molds it into though. There have been plenty of times strands fell forward from sweating, working or fighting, but you've never seen it fully down in person. That's why, when you saw a semi-recent picture of him with his siblings, long hair falling in his face, trimmed neatly with ends blunt, you started to feel a certain way about it. You innocently asked Kotoha if she had any more pictures of Ume like that.

"Like what?"

"Like with his hair down."

"Oho you have a thing for his hair now?" She teases and although you know she won't tell him if you ask her not to, you're still embarrassed at being found out so easily.

"He's my boyfriend! I have a thing for nearly everything about him."

"But anyone can tell you're kinda obsessed with it with how much you fix and touch it throughout the day. Just ask him to wear it down for you."

It's not that you hadn't thought about it, but the more you thought, the more you started getting frustrated. Why didn't he wear it down more often? It seems like he did in old pictures. If he hated it now you didn't wanna force him to change it

Your self control was pretty good, but once you'd started really looking it was impossible to stop. His most recent fight with Shishitoren had haphazard strands in his face dislodged by sweat and aggressive movement. Of course you were concerned with the wounds spanning across his face and body, but another part of you wanted to eat him alive with how good he looked. You're not quite sure you'd be able to stop yourself from jumping him if you saw him with his hair fully down. Sitting in a chair on the roof, you watch him and think about the feeling of running your fingers through his white locks unhindered by that damn tough gel he puts in.

"Pumpkin can you hand me the small pruning sheers to your left?" he calls over without looking over at you.

"Mhmmm," you barely reply still stuck in a daze.

Pruning sheers...

Right!

You snap out of the daydreams that'd been haunting you to stand and grab them. Just as you're about to hand them over, Umemiya grasps the wrist with the sheers and pulls gently but firmly to drag you down on the ground with him. He sets the sheers down before taking both your hands in his.

"Something on my face? You've been starin' an awful lot."

"Ahh dirt, if I had to guess," a halfhearted excuse while your brain continued to process things slower than usual.

"Sweetheart baby love of mine," he is all dramatics now stringing pet names together in a silly amalgamation. Once he starts making direct eye contact it's hard to look anywhere else, "you have got to tell me whats going on in that beautiful head of yours. I love the attention but if something's bothering you-"

"It's your hair!" You spit out in a panic, drawing your hands away to cover your face in embarrassment. You can tell he's a little worried and it makes you feel even worse for making a big deal about it.

"My hair bothers you?" He's confused. Of course he is. It isn't something you've brought up in the past after all. He thought you liked his hair since you were always fixing it for him and you do. Your voice is muffled by your hands but he can still understand to a point.

"It looks great and I love it, but I reaaallly wanna see it down," you can hear yourself whining the words instead of saying them normally. "You always have it up when you're at school," taking a deep breath as your hands come off your face to speak more clearly. "I was looking at pictures with Kotoha and they're pretty much all of you with your hair down." Taking a second you twirl one of his loose strands around your finger in lieu of staring again, sincerely embarrassed you let it get to you this bad. He finally puts the pieces together from his conversation with Kotoha earlier.

"Our date night's tomorrow right? I'll wear it down then," he says, letting you mess with his hair. He can see a jolt go through you at his words and you lock eyes with him immediately.

"Really? Really really?" You're just about vibrating in place, grabbing his face with both hands and squishing his cheeks.

"Rweawy rweawy rweawy!" His breath is coming out of his nose in amused puffs due to the quick shift in enthusiasm and your hold on his face.

"I'VE GOTTA GO PICK MY OUTFIT OUT OH MY GOD ILOVEYOUBYE!" A small peck on the nose and you're gone like the wind throwing open the door and running past Sugishita who was on his way up the stairs. The long haired boy looks back at Umemiya with wide, questioning eyes before letting the moment pass, his head dips in the usual greeting before he walks over to do the daily gardening tasks.

_____

“I changed my mind we can’t go out tonight.”

“Babe you’re all dressed up and you were so excited to check out that new restaurant near the park,” Hajime sighs exasperated. You’re in the foyer of his home, hands on both sides of the door frame blocking his escape.

“Not looking like that you aren’t! Do you want every girl in a 20 mile radius to fall for you? The men too? I’ll have to fight every single one of them and of course I’d win but imagine the casualties! The collateral damage!” you cry hanging your head in fake hysterics. Both Kotoha and their other siblings have been watching this two-part comedy special for about 10 minutes now, two minutes of which you just STARED at him. Then you began circling like a hawk looking at him from any and all angles as if to commit it to memory. Then you started laying on the compliments and pick up lines but he could tell you meant every one of them. “Who is this absolute knock out in front of me? Is my boyfriend a model now? Did it hurt when you fell because I’m staring at an angel.”

Which brought you both to the current scene and while you were (for the most part) joking, you also…weren’t. You could and probably are just extremely biased but GOD you think no one could pull off that hair quite so well. Usually it takes a lot to make Umemiya blush, but his face is currently stained red by how brazen you are at the moment. He’s smiling and trying to take it in stride but even Kotoha can tell he’s affected by your display and she's relishing it.

“No more arguing,” he picks you up by the waist and hoists you to him in a hug that leaves your face in his chest and feet off the floor. “We’re heading out now.” He sends a farewell back to your amused audience and the kids yell back a cacophony of teases and calls for their onee-san and onii-san to come back soon. You start muffling unrecognizable words into his shirt before he puts you down as he gets further down the street.

“It would’ve been one of the best ways to die if i’d stayed there a little longer,” you breathe and stumble back a bit.

“You are shameless today,” he laughs and goes to hold your hand. Anyone watching you both can tell you're grossly in love by the dreamy look on your face as you watch him while you walk down the street. You realize now that this is the first time in about two weeks you have him to yourself, which may be why you've been clingier than normal. Every time either of you tried to schedule date night with the other, someone or something came up and made you push date night back.

Going two weeks without any prolonged physical contact (save for hello and goodbye hugs or kisses) with your boyfriend has made you starved for him in every way your brain can fathom, which is why it isn't surprising that you end up dragging him through the park to an alcove you know isn't traveled to often. It also isn't surprising when you sit him down on the bench bracing a knee next to him, and pinning him loosely in place. He doesn't say a word, but tilts his head up slightly angled in favor of you closing the distance, daring you with those stormy grey eyes.

Your hands find their way easily to the soft ivory of his hair, delving deeper to twist and pull him in. Caught between a sigh and a moan, Umemiya Hajime is melting into you, lines blurring and nerves on fire. His hands fumble to grab the thigh closest to him as he moves you to straddle him. You haven't let up on your assault on his senses, fingers loosening their hold to rub small circles into his scalp.

Is this how you feel when he goes all out after stress starts to take it's toll on him? Now that he thinks about it he's always been the one to initiate this kind of thing, but god he would've asked you to take the lead sooner if he knew it felt this good. Heartbeat thrumming through his hands, he runs them in a soothing pattern from the top of your hip to you knee giving your legs the occasional extra squeeze.

A wave of calm shifts the clouds filling your head out as you have an idea. Parting from him briefly you start kissing and mouthing your way down to the collar of his shirt. He squeezes your thighs harder as your breath ghosts his neck and you give it a few experimental nips before cooling the spot with your tongue. He's trying to stifle a high pitched noise in the back his throat but once you hear it you latch on biting and sucking a single bright red mark. A soft breath over your work before you sit back to admire it. The mark peeks out just enough for you to see it right now but low enough that when he's wearing his furin jacket, he'll be able to hide it.

"That was-," you start, still breathless.

"Wow," he voice cracks at the same time. His eyes are a little wild but his hair is even wilder, sticking up in some directions and falling flat in others. Giving a small tap on his arm he releases the deathgrip he had on you before his eyes stick right to where he had been holding. Blue bruises are scattered over both legs where his fingers were, but they're just barely hidden once you fix your dress.

"Guess we're uh...even?" you're suddenly bashful at what was probably the same type of stare you've been giving him for a week straight now. Umemiya runs his own hands through his hair trying to catch his breath and make himself a little more presentable too.

"No way are we close to being even you little monster. After dinner I'm getting you back," and you can tell he's not bluffing.

"I'm shaking in my shoes Haji," you shot back feeling a bit more like yourself as you go to grab his hand. He moves towards you but you end up spun around and he picks you up for the second time that night, this time settled on carrying you bridal style.

"Put me down," you squeak in warning, the skirt of your dress no longer hiding the fresh bruises.

"This is part of your punishment sweetheart. Also, no one's coming after me if I carry you around like a princess right?" It was hard to argue with that logic and to be fair, despite your earlier boldness your legs ended up weak. He had probably seen the shaky steps you took towards him a second ago.

Both of you got to the restaurant in time despite the detour and the next day you were sporting a hoodie to hide the payback you took happily after.

[jillyfoo]

Changling Encore

What if they couldn’t wash off the changeling spores right away?

 (We will also say the 2nd fight with the gargoyles ended without them figuring out how the changeling mushrooms worked.) POV: Tallchuck

Izutsumi as a kobold dives into her dumplings and makes them disappear. She is becoming less picky now that she’s part dog. The now tallest member of the party couldn’t taste each individual flavor of the meat as distinctly as when he was a halfling but the savory taste is great regardless. To think the strange mushrooms can change creatures down to the muscles and cells. Chilchuck finishes his meal and feels unsatisfied. Makes sense because a tallman would need to eat a lot more calories than a halfling. At six and a half feet tall he guessed he’s probably three times the weight he was as a halfling. There’s no point worrying about gaining weight and springing traps cause he’s obviously way too heavy already as a tallman. He asks for seconds. The party stops briefly noticing his act making him feel self conscious. Senshi as an elf looks overjoyed and fills his plate with more dumplings. 

“You have grown so much. Please make sure to eat your fill.” He said in a sweet feminine, yet to Chilchuck, also unnerving voice.

“Hey. I want some too.” Laios protests. Laios as a plump dwarf would probably eat the same amount as his normal tallman form, Chilchuck figured.

“You can have mine. I’m already full.” Marcille, now a tiny halfling, gives her leftovers to Laios. Chilchuck continues to eat, agitated that he is being stared at by everyone in the party. He’s not used to standing out. He sighs. “So as I am now it looks like I can’t do my job properly anymore. Marcille, I am going to have to guide you though disabling step traps as we encounter them.”

Laios buds in. “You’re right Chilchuck. I was thinking that we will have to reassign our roles in the party until we get our normal bodies back. I’m going to teach you some close combat.”

“I can also teach you magic!” Marcille piped in. Damn it, Chilchuck thought. He had hoped they would forget about their last battle debacle.

“Hey, that’s too much at once!” He pointed at Senshi. “You should teach the elf magic!” Senshi drops the pot he was cleaning. The elf’s arms curled into his delicate chest. He stammers.

“You know how I feel about magic. I.. I don’t feel comfortable with it at all. I’m not… you all may have changed, but I’m still the same on the inside.” He pleads to them with tearful, innocent doe eyes. Everyone could not help but leer at him in disbelief. Laios the ever present optimist breaks the silence.

“We are going to have to adapt as best as we can. Let’s for now clean up the dishware and then look over our inventory to see what weapons will work best in our new bodies.”

Not too long after cleaning up, Chilchuck looked over all the weapons in his possession. Throwing knives. That could work, but will run out if they can’t be recovered. Blade knife and bowie knife. He knew Laios would say that because of the aggro his large form will receive in combat, longer blades such as swords would work better. Knives are meant for surprise stabs like Kabru’s attack on chimera dragon Falin. Lastly, the bow. He won’t be able to use it. His hand practically enveloped it. It looks like a child’s- Oh hell no! All his adult life he’s been working to not be seen as a kid from the other races! How dare that creep into his head now that he’s been tallman for just a few hours!

“Lights out.” Senshi calls to him from behind. The beastly dwarf turned into a paper thin shadow of himself struggles to drag his ax to him. “Borrow this and protect us.” Senshi gazes up at him like a princess at her champion. A breeze seemed to be coming from somewhere blowing his long black curly locks. Willing to do anything to get out of this awkward moment Chilchuck reluctantly accepts the gift. There’s no way I can fight with this shoddy thing.

Seeing that there was little else to do, Chilchuck undoned Laios’ borrowed armor and settled into his blankets to sleep. Thankfully Izutsumi seems to be bothering someone else tonight. Everything sounds so calm and quiet as he drifts off.

“Chilchuck!”

“Wha!” The tallman startles awake. “Laios… lights out.” Chilchuck growls.

“Oh that’s no problem for me. I can see in the dark now that I’m a dwarf.” Laios laughs obnoxiously.

“Go to bed, Laios!” Marcille calls out from the darkness, obviously annoyed. Laios tones down into a whisper. 

“So I was thinking about what can be used to aid you fight and I remembered that when I started out fighting monsters I used a shield. That should distract the monsters while the rest of us take it down. I recovered my old shield from the floor we first fought the dragon in and I’ll let you have it. I don’t know if we will have much time to practice-”

“I can still hear you, Laios! Shut up and go to sleep already!”

“I’m sorry! Marcille!” Laios sets down his shield next to him. “I will leave this here for you. Everything is going to be fine. We will make it work.”, he reassures Chilchuck in a cheery tone.

A worry seed plants firmly in Chilchuck’s mind. He had very little direct combat experience. Heck Kabru and his party had way more experience than him and how many times did his party find them dead these past few days? It’s gonna be the mimics all over again except Marcille can’t revive anymore cause she’s a halfling. Nothing good will come of this.

[itstimetojellyfish]

I have a small request for Genshin impact. Since Tighnari is a fennec fox character what if he met someone who’s exactly like him species wise and can actually stay in the desert for long periods of time? Also, please hydrate and eat 🫵

OHHHHHH THATS A GOOD PROMT ! THANKS ! Yes , I do have my basic necessities . Oh and , imma just use povs for this cause I dunno how else I’m going to explain emotions in this….

———————————————————————-

From beyond the forest.(Tighnari x reader)

You:

It’s been a long while since you’ve visited Gandharva Ville , since you had some free time , you decided to go to Sumeru City , and then visit .

Little did you know , in the decade you were gone , another Fennec Fox would be there in Sumeru City ……

Tighnari :

He was only visiting Cyno , Alhaitham , and Kaveh just for a game , and he’s fairly sure he hasn’t gone delusional.

So why was he chasing a person with long ears on top of their head and a tail .

It’s been awhile since he saw any of his kind , they left him a while ago .

So why does he see someone with pale long ears , just like his own, on top of their head when they turn around .

He catches up to them and taps them on their shoulder .

You:

You’re dumbfounded , last time you checked , there wasn’t another fox in Sumeru City…. But then again , that was a decade ago , someone might’ve moved in while you were gone .

“ Um excuse me! Are you by any chance a Fennec Fox too?!” The green and black haired man looked at you with a certain desperation inside his eyes .

You stare at him dumbfounded , as you regain your senses and respond to his question.” Yes , I am , are you by chance one too?”

He smiled before answering ,” Yes , I am! My name is Tighnari! What’s your name?”

Your eyes widen a bit , and then you respond , ” Y/N, “

After that encounter , you and Tighnari start to get to know each other , he introduces the new things of Sumeru to you , and you tell him how Sumeru was like when you were younger.

You two travel across the region of Sumerian and look at the plants along the way , making more observations and questions about them , and also taking down some witherings .

Soon , you reach the desert , you watch Tighnari panic for a bit , and then you ask ,” Is there something bothering you?”

He looks at you sheepishly before replying,” Well , umm…. I can’t go out in the desert for long periods of time …. But I need some herbs from the desert..”

You smile at him before telling him,” No worries ! Tell me what you need! I’m a desert fox so I can get them easily .”

He looks at you , surprise lingering in his eyes , before giving you a grin and then telling you he needs a few Ajilenakh nuts.

You nod at him before going into the desert with some water and food .

It was a long time before you returned , Tighnari worried that he actually put you in danger because he needed some herbs , he didn’t think to confirm you could actually go in the desert for long periods of time!

Before his thoughts could spiral even deeper into the hole of self-doubt . You gently tapped him on the shoulder .

You didn’t expect him to literally jump 7 feet into the air and cling onto a tree branch….

You stare at him , a bit speechless as he looks at you and then comes back down and gives a sigh of relief.

You hold up a pouch full of Ajilenakh nuts and then give it to him, he opens his mouth to ask for your condition, but you beat him to it.” Don’t worry , I’m fine , I’m a desert fox!”

Soon , you guys began to hang out more , and by chance , you fell asleep on his shoulder underneath a tree.

He smile say you before thinking.

Lesser Lord Kusanail gave him a gift from beyond the forest.

[achillesunly]

Just when you think it cannot get better

Episode four my beloved, episode five!! My ultimate beloved! WHAT ABOUT EPISODE SIX MY FIRST BORN CHILD, THE LIGHT OF MY LIFE MY WHORE MY KILLER MY MAKER MY GRAVEYARD MY SEA MY CLAY

I'm sHAKING HOW COULD I EVER SLEEP HOW COULD I EVER WAIT

IT HAS BEEN

SO LONG

SINCE A SHOW HAS BEEN THIS GOOD

EVERY LAW EVER WRITTEN ABOUT TIME MAKES MORE AND LESS SENSE THAN WHEN IM WAITING ON A SUNDAY NIGHT FOR THE NEXT SUNDAY NIGHT , THREE LIFETIMES AWAY, THREE SHORES THREE FULL MOONS, SEVEN FUCKING DAYS AND I ASK YOU WHAT IS A DAY IF NOT AN ETERNITY PASSING THROUGH

I CANNOT ENDURE

GOD THIS MAKES IT ALL SO MUCH BETTER AND SO MUCH WORSE JAJAHZBZEHHEHE

MY DARLING BABY LESTAT MY BITCH MY SELF MY SKY MY FUCKING DEVIL OH GOODODOODOD WELCOME BACK DARLING

LOUIS ABOUT TO HAVE HIS FUCKING WORLD R O C K E D

ARMAND PAHAHAHAHA HONEY YOU GOT A BIG STORM COMIN I LOVE YA

CLAUDIA MY LOVE MY BUTCHER MY ANGEL MY TORNADO I WILL SKIN MYSLEF ALIVE FOR YA

MADELEINE SO LONG BABY I LOVED YOU YOU'RE GON GET CAUGHT IN THE CROSSFIRE LIKE A REAL ROMANTIC LOVER

MY DARLING SWEETS

SANTIAGO SANTIAGOOOOOOO YOU BEAUTIFUL BASTARD

I HOPE HE FUCKED LESTAT THOSE TWO HAVE SOMETHING

KSKSHSHZJSH THIS IS FUCKING INSANE

I HOPE PRODUCTION SEES WHAT THEY DO TO ME TO THE WHOLE FANDOM

[toovaeloe]

ditzy | he loves you to death, you’re just a little bit dumb and disaster prone sometimes.

☁️🤍☁️

Choso loves you.

Really, he does.

He wouldn’t be able to count all the things he admires about you on his hands, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop discovering new things he just adores about you.

One thing maybe being that you’re fairly independent and self-reliant, somewhat like he is, and he really appreciates this detail of you. It somehow makes him feel more connected to you, like he understood you on a deeper level. And it made his heart swell to know he was one of the few people you’d ask for help, that you sought the advice of. Because Choso knew just how capable you were on your own. There wasn’t any question to your intelligence whatsoever.

He didn’t know how you did it.

…

…That being said…

He also didn’t know how you did it.

How can you manage to be one of the smartest people he knew and then at the same time a completely klutzy airhead?? In the most adorable way possible, of course. But still. Adorably annoying.

It was little things sometimes, like frequent incidences of you totally flipping out because you lost your phone— meanwhile it’s right there tucked in your pocket, or even in your hand.

Or maybe it’d be right to mention your complete lack of directional sense.

Phone calls with the preamble, “Choso, I think I lost my car in the parking lot, I don’t know how I’m gonna get home—!” Your distressed voice filtering through his phone speaker, insisting you’ve been looking for at least an hour now making him leap up and snatch his keys to come to your aid at 8:42pm on a Thursday evening.

Spoiler alert: it was parked in one of the first spots near the door. Somehow you had managed to have ventured into the neighboring store’s parking lot in search of your car.

It was things like this that made him run his hands through his hair in an expression of stress and relief all at once; his hands drag down his face in frustration. All the while he would shake his head, still thinking you were still the cutest little shit.

But it was worrying to a degree. (And definitely got his heart rate up.) How had you made it so far in life like this?

You guys were chilling in his apartment one weekend night, maybe binge watching a show, and he swears he only left you on the couch for 5 minutes tops while he took a piss.

It’s your blood curdling scream that has him storm out the bathroom without drying off his hands and faucet still running.

“What, what’s wrong!?” He urges as he charged back into the living room, prepared to be confronted with the worst. An intruder, perhaps.

But all he’s met with is you standing on the opposite corner of his sofa, clutching onto it as if for dear life and pointing shakily down at something on his hardwood.

“Spider!! It’s huge- kill it, hurry! please!!” You fretted in terror….over a lump of fuzz that must’ve collected and detached off his rug he had under his coffee table.

He didn’t know whether to outright laugh or just sigh.

Instead he shook his head with a barely stifled grin, striding over to the incriminated lump of carpet and bending down to pick it up, presenting it to you with exaggerated theatrics.

“Oh, this spider?” He mocked, taunting and exasperated as he rolled the material between his forefinger and thumb; watching as you squinted at it before your eyes went wide with realization and growing embarrassment. “Well don’t worry, you’re safe now.”

What was he going to do with you?

a/n: make his heart palpitate 🤍

a preview of my choso bot intro here on j.ai

but basically a fluff piece if it stands on its own

consider checking it out if you’re a user on there! my ask box is open to requests that I’ll try to fulfill or suggestions for what you want to see!

[miller-n-morgan]

Take Me Home

PART THREE: WORTHINESS

Arthur Morgan x Gunslinger!Reader

18+, mdni (this work is not necessarily 18+, but my blog as a whole is)

Summary: After eating so much at camp leads to Pearson chasing the kid's ass, Dutch finally decides it's finally time that Texas Red runs a job in the Van Der Linde gang. Arthur isn't quite as happy about it.

Warnings: mentions of blood in this one, death too. reader is female but is disguised as a young male (use of masc pronouns towards reader by everyone accept Arthur), use of guns, reader is described to have a masculine outer appearance (for show) and is mentioned to have reddish hair (for the sake of the storyline). A fake name is used but otherwise can be read completely as a reader insert.

Word Count: 6k (back to bein my best self)

Hey so welcome back, this is not exactly a filler, but it's putting some info towards a bunch of different future plot lines... so, sorry if it seems all over the place

Previous - Series Masterlist

“I think I could drop you where you stand.” You were all talk, now, and he knew that… but it still boiled under his skin the way you challenged him.  “You make quite a big to do of yourself… M’guessin’ that’s where most of your reputation came from,” he smirked, but he should know better than to taunt you about those men you shot dead. “Before I got here I barely spoke a word to no one… I got my reputation from shootin’ folks so fast they didn’t have time to repent to God.” 

You’ve taken to a new hobby. You’re not quite sure the word that describes it right, but to explain what it entails, a bit of background needs to be added for understanding. 

Abigail is borderline nine months pregnant. 

John Marston, the everloving man that he is, has taken it upon himself to steer clear of her in the last stages of her pregnancy. 

Given this unfortunate situation, Abigail finds herself eating more and more food to try and relieve the stress. She also finds herself ranting to you about the dimwitted man that impregnated her, because you seem the most open to listening without offering advice. Truth be told, you just enjoy the company of a woman that doesn’t shy away from you, or try to woo you over. It brings about a sense of normalcy. 

Now, in the past weeks that this has been happening, you’ve taken to eating at the same times as Abigail, shoveling more and more into your plate like she does. It’s now become a ritual, or as you would like to call it, a hobby, to sit and devour food while shit-talking John Marston as he’s away. ‘Keeping his distance,’ whatever the hell that means, when the woman you’re with is nine months pregnant. 

In the midst of this new hobby, Dutch and Pearson have had many arguments. Dutch was always less than concerned about it, whilst Pearson nearly threw a fit every time either of you came to get portions for a meal.

“I’ve had enough of it. They come, they eat, they leave! That new boy of yours hasn’t done anything since he got here but eat us out of our stock,” Pearson complained for the hundredth time. Though you’d kept up with chores around the camp, (trying to help Abigail pick up some of her slack) you hadn’t really brought any money into the camp, which was what Dutch brought you here to do.

“Arthur’s been trainin’ him well, I’m sure it’ll be no time at all before he starts runnin’ jobs with us.” Dutch knew what this was really about…

Pearson was madder than a hornet when John first got Abigail pregnant. Even worse when he found out she would be traveling with the gang from then on. Feeding a pregnant woman was sometimes like feeding two extra men… not to mention the fact that you joined her at every meal. He doesn’t want to say anything about Abigail, especially in the state she’s in… but maybe if you didn’t sit and eat with her all the damn time, it wouldn’t be as bad, and the rations would last longer. 

“He better start earnin’ his keep. If he doesn’t I’ll skin him, make a stew.”

Dutch let out a boisterous laugh, clapping Pearson on the back and shaking his head. 

“I have a feeling he’ll probably bring in as much as Arthur… There’s some sort of competition between them. I think as long as they don’t rip each other to shreds, they’ll be real beneficial,” He started towards Hosea, passing by you and Abigail on the way and tipping his hat. “Top of the mornin’ to ya.”

“Mornin’,” you nodded with a smile, taking a sip of your coffee before digging back into the bread and jam you both raided from Pearson’s ‘kitchen.’

He ducked into his tent, and you turned back to Abigail, listening intently to all she had to say. Today, she had news of an argument between her and John the night before. 

“It’s been all, ‘how do I even know that kid is mine?’ and ‘what if I don’t want to be a part of it anymore?’ since about the five month mark. M’startin’ to think that maybe I should’ve just left the gang, convinced some poor drunk dope from the town it’s his.” She gave her best John impression when quoting him, and as funny as it was, all you could feel was grief for the young woman. She was too young to even be thinking this way. 

You’ve not spent any one on one time with John, but he sounds like a real ass.

“As sad as I am to say it, Miss Abigail… I believe most of us men are stupid as they come. We can’t tell what’s right in front of us, even if y’all are screamin’ and shoutin’.”

“If that ain’t the truth…” she trailed, sighing with her head down. Even though she portrayed her sorrows in a comedic light, you could tell it weighed on her. 

You weren’t sure if you should even offer this, because you had no idea if you would even be hiding your secret this long, but the longer you go without revealing anything… you’re starting to think of your little secret more permanently.

“If push comes to shove… You can tell the kid it’s mine. Not too sure it’ll believe you, what with the carrot head I got, but if you want to…”

She laughed lighthearted, and sighed again, but this time out of contentment. 

“I guess not all men are stupid. You’re not even the first one who’s offered that to me,” she explained, nodding towards the outskirts of camp where an open tent fixed upon a wagon sat neatly kept. “Arthur said the same thing when all these problems with John started.”

You smiled, looking at his empty living space, barely anything to show that he occupied the place. He had a simple cot and bedroll, a small table, and just a few sentimental pieces here and there. He didn’t need anything fancy or grandiose to his name, just a gun and his hat, and he was satisfied. He’s even kinder than you thought, too, hearing it firsthand from Abigail. A good man, and a great outlaw. You found yourself longing for him nearly every day now, and it would only get worse from here. 

“He’s sure something, ain’t he?” You tried to be nonchalant about him, and it seemed to work in the eyes of Abigail, but if she’d known just one little thing about you, her entire mind would be changed. 

“Oh, yes. I’ll be damn straight with ya, I almost wish it were Arthur I met last year. Wish it was him that found me at the brothel. I do love John, but… he breaks my heart sometimes,” she let out, trying to hold herself together. She’d long since begun crying herself to sleep at night, pretty much since John decided she could sleep on her own. Now, though, was not the place to break down. You’ve been kind enough to listen to her, and she feels as though using your shoulder to cry on would be taking advantage. So she changes the subject. “While I’m on the topic of love… I’ve heard you got an admirer.”

Your cheeks grew red from embarrassment, and she thought that maybe you were blushing, but she didn’t know how far off she was. “I guess I’ve heard a thing or two ‘bout that…”

“Tilly is a sweet girl, I’m sure you both would get along fine,” she added, going back to her food. 

“She’s one of the kindest souls I’ve met,” you told her, trying to be as honest as you could without divulging anything she didn’t need to know. “I’ve just never…”

“You’ve never… what?” 

You shrugged, huffing a sigh and eating the last piece of jam covered bread on your plate. Already you could tell you’d be hungry again soon. “Never been in a relationship like that before.”

“I see. Is that something you think you’d want?” Her patience is why you liked speaking with her. Sometimes she had a short temper, but it was almost always warranted and towards those who deserved it. 

You took her question to heart. You’d not even considered a relationship since the day you ran away. Your self-found freedom had been from an arranged marriage. It had been your choice to leave that way of life. You never thought you’d ever find love in the aftermath of your liberation, but thinking about it now… You looked to Arthur’s tent, just a single glance to see if he’s returned yet.

“I hope so, maybe someday when the time is right. I just think that right now, I’m not so sure about anything at all, and it wouldn’t be fair to Miss Tilly to start up something I ain’t ready for.”

She sat and stared into your downward expression for a minute, meeting your eyes when you looked up. 

You smirked a little at her gaping expression, trying to make light of it. 

“I got somethin’ on my face?” 

“No,” she shook her head, knocking herself out of whatever trance she just fell into. “S’just that… I think you’re mighty wise for someone your age. And for a man, too.” 

“I reckon that’s a real fine compliment, and I’ll take it well.”

You both shared a laugh before going back to the stashed food for seconds. 

-

Dutch had an idea… a dangerous thing, but sometimes a very lucrative one. 

The worst part about this dangerous and lucrative idea? Arthur, Javier, John, and Bill were on board. It meant there was gonna be one hell of a party this afternoon, and no one in their right mind would have the courage to stop it. 

You were unaware of said idea until around lunch time, when Pearson just ripped you a new one for taking food before it was even ready. You shared it with Abigail of course, you’re not an animal.

Dutch and Hosea were making the plans for this afternoon, and came across you both sulking in the grass, just inches away from Pearson’s space. They grabbed some small provisions for themselves, as they hadn’t quite eaten much today, and you overheard some of their chatter. 

“I’m getting too old for all that excitement. One job here and there is all I can do anymore,” Hosea tried to reason with his dearest friend. 

“I need another gun or it doesn’t work,” Dutch sighed out, scratching the back of his neck as he thought of another solution. 

You stood up and peeked over the barrel you’d been resting against, leaning over it and making your presence known. 

“I got a gun,” you smirked, halfway joking incase he shuts you down. He hasn’t told you directly that he doesn’t want you riding with them yet, but he has asked Arthur if he thinks you’re ready… to which Arthur always replied, ‘almost.’ 

Dutch narrowed his eyes at you, looking back to Hosea, but the man held his hands up in mock defense. He was gonna sit this one out regardless.

“How’s your horse with gunfire?” he asked, genuinely considering your offer today. 

“He oughta be fine, otherwise I can take someone else’s.”

There was another moment of pause, and Hosea spoke up. 

“Sean would be happy to go, he hasn’t seen action in a few weeks.” 

You sighed, doing your best to act as if you weren’t upset, then started to speak loudly.

“That’s fine by me. I’ll just stay here and have lunch with Abigail…” you trailed, and immediately Pearson whipped himself around from his station. 

“No!” He shouted, and though you were partially joking, he didn’t want to find that out for himself. He’d had enough of you, and likely of Abigail, too. “As God is my witness, I will pack my shit and never look back… take him, I’m beggin’ ya.”

Dutch found his little outburst quite comical, as did you. He chuckled lowly and rolled it over in his head once more before deciding. Maybe what you really needed to learn was being thrown in the deep end. Hell, he knew what you were capable of. It was the very reason you stood on this ground in the first place. Now he needed to put those fiery trigger fingers to the test. 

“Son,” he turned back to face you with a look of sheer confidence, hopefully this didn’t mean the pressure would all be on you. “Saddle your horse, load up on ammo. You’ll be going with John.”

The smile you had immediately left your face. 

“Yessir,” you said quickly, leaving the group to do as he said. 

John Marston, the man you’d been shit talking for over a week now. Not to his face, of course, but to his lady it was enough, even if she was doing just as much if not more in sullying his name. 

You had a bad taste for him, that much you could say. It wasn’t going to be fun, but you’d prevail. You had to. It was time to start earning your keep. 

You found the rest of the men by the hitching posts, strolling up as confidently as can be. You enjoyed the baffled looks of confusion they wore, unsure of what you were doing here. Surely you wouldn’t be joining them…

“Howdy,” you teased, tipping your hat to them with a sideways smirk. Your young looking ‘boyish’ features gave them an inkling of annoyance with the look you wore, all cocky and arrogant for show. “Give me just a second, I’ll be ready to head out.”

“You’re coming with us?” Bill questioned, though it wasn’t out of sheer curiosity, but agitation.

“Damn straight,” you muttered quieter, done joking for now since they all seemed to be absolutely against you riding along. You got along with them in camp, why did they seem to exclude you now that a job was concerned? Why did they look like they were about to fight tooth and nail to keep you here?

You ignored their sarcastic chatter over your ‘scrawny’ appearance, and made ready your horse. You’d taken him riding several times since getting here, but he hasn’t gotten to see much action other than running down the side of the river bank. 

“What the hell are you doin’?” Arthur came up beside you, trying to gain your primary focus and lead it away from the horse… not exactly a hard task when you look like Arthur Morgan does.

“Dutch said I’m ridin’ on the job,” you explained, making it very clear, first and foremost, that you had permission to go out with them from the boss.

“When? Just now? Because as it was told to us, you weren’t goin’...” 

“I get y’all don’t exactly want me here, but he needed another gun. I happen to have one, matter of fact, and I’m pretty damn good at shootin’ it. I don’t understand your hissy fit, but it ain’t gonna stop me from goin’, so I hope we’re not gonna have a problem, here.” 

He kept his mouth shut. He needed to think and rehash his words in his head before he let something fly that he didn’t at all mean. 

“I’m tryin’ to protect you, kid.” He was even closer than before all of a sudden, and you had to make him the center of your attention once again.

“Protect me from what? I shoot faster than you, remember?”

You made a point, but he made a better one. 

“You mean ‘the one shot you know how to take?’ Is that the one?” He recalled your words from many days before, the day he began teaching you everything you needed to know. You’d been here nearly a month now, if you hadn’t learned enough already, you never would.

“Look, Arthur,” you turned away from him using all the strength you had, because dammit, you did enjoy looking at him. “I know you don’t think this is ideal, but it’s not your call to make. Take it up with Dutch.”

You strapped a rifle to your horse and grabbed its reins from the hitching post, leading the dark, glossy stallion over by where the boys were finishing up. 

“Marston,” you called, all traces of light hearted fun were gone from your tone, completely dulled and sullen from the loss of excitement. “I’m with you.”

-

Arthur rode with Dutch nearly the whole time.

You were on the caboose end of the cavalcade, and watched them talk up ahead. There was no doubt in your mind it concerned you, because that’s why Arthur is so high strung, so angry about this job. 

Javier gave you the run-down on the first few minutes of the ride. It’s a quick job, and shouldn’t get drawn any attention from the neighboring towns. Essentially, there’s a procession of carriages coming from the north and heading south east, and most of the folk traveling are fairly wealthy. The kicker is, all the valuables from each person are said to be stowed on a ‘safe cart’ in the middle of the procession. You’re not sure how they figure that, but you know Dutch has incredible sources. Using the team assembled, you’ll all have to separate the safe cart from the rest of the caravan, leading it off the trail and far enough away that it can be easily raided with no repercussions. The only downside? The safe cart is heavily guarded by several armed men and is manned by experienced drivers. 

Once Javier started getting into the logistics and details of the job, you zoned out, focusing on the conversation happening with Arthur and Dutch up ahead. You had no clue what they were saying, but the body language and facial expressions said a lot. 

Arthur likely expressed his concerns to Dutch, and thereafter, was told he need not be concerned… But Arthur was a persistent animal, he didn’t just dip his head and turn away. 

You think that Arthur may have listed a few points for Dutch to consider, and that the man did so, with the fact in the forefront of his mind that you were still on the job. 

By the time everyone reached the lookout, the two of them circled around to face the rest. 

“There’s been a change of plan,” Dutch called out, looking over every face and the horse they accommodated, and they lasted longer on you than the others. “John, you’re taking the frontside of the caravan with Javier.”

And just like that, you’d been replaced. 

“Where am I goin’ then?” You tilted your head in confusion.

“You’re with me, Red,” Arthur let out, his tone not nearly as angry as earlier. Now you gotta know what happened during that talk with Dutch.

“Yes, you and Arthur will bring up the back, makin’ sure there’s no surprises.”

You weren’t sure what to feel. Was he trying to keep you where he could see you? Did he think of himself as your babysitter? Why would he put up all that fuss just to give in as long as you rode with him?

“Alright,” you sighed out, acknowledging that bringing up the rear of the operation was still better than not coming at all. 

The rest of the plan stayed the same, and soon, everyone split off with their respective partners for this heist. 

You rode off with Arthur in silence to the waiting point, not daring to say anything until you’d been sure nobody was around to hear it. You weren’t going to rip into him about this, but you had questions. He clearly was concerned over your wellbeing if he fought so hard to make sure you wouldn’t be riding in, guns blazing, on your first job. You were just going to cover the rear, a measure of security. 

When you stopped just short of the trail, you hitched your horses, taking cover behind some bushes and trees to lay low. You turned to Arthur with a huff. 

“What the hell was that?” 

He was taken aback, but not jumpy about your outburst.

“Don’t start with this again, kid. I’m tryin’ to help you,” he crossed his arms, leaning against the tree and watching the road. It was still too early for the caravan, but he didn’t want to meet your eyeline.

“You ain’t helpin’ me, you’re holdin’ me back,” you grumbled, stepping on a small gathering of dead leaves, becoming even more enraged - for no good reason - when they didn’t crunch beneath your boot. 

“You’ll thank me one day…” he trailed, lighting a cigarette from within his pocket. You would have decked him in the face if you thought it would help. 

At first you’d been grateful to him, for seeing you no differently than the others, and even showing you the ropes to become better equipped. Now you could see it was all a ruse. He underestimated you and kept telling Dutch you weren’t ready. He kept ‘training’ you to keep you busy. You weren’t falling for that shtick again. You didn’t care how pretty his eyes were, anymore. 

“Where do you get off, Morgan? The shit you’ve been putting me through these past weeks…” you scoffed, finding it amusing almost just how unbothered he seemed to be. Maybe he really was just as mean as the town’s folk say. “I’ve been able to match or best you at everything you’ve thrown at me. Maybe I should just take you out of my way.” 

He chuckled, standing upright and creeping towards you with slow steps. His eyes narrowed, and for once, you felt you knew what it was like to be prey. 

“You wanna give it a try?” he taunted, towering over you with a threatening stare. Just seeing how intimidating he could really be, you wanted to back off. Of course, you didn’t. “You really think you could take me?” 

His voice was all too quiet, all too calm. The words he spoke held such heaviness, but it didn’t show in his tone. He was teasing you, and if you gave in, he’d likely give you a humbling. You knew he’d been eyeing your hand, as if hovered closely to your gun belt… so you dropped it to your side to defuse him a little. 

“I think I could drop you where you stand.”

You were all talk, now, and he knew that… but it still boiled under his skin the way you challenged him. 

“You make quite a big to do of yourself… M’guessin’ that’s where most of your reputation came from,” he smirked, but he should know better than to taunt you about those men you shot dead.

“Before I got here I barely spoke a word to no one… I got my reputation from shootin’ folks so fast they didn’t have time to repent to God.” 

Your dead eye stare caught him. He didn’t back down, didn’t waver… he was so staunchly preserved in his way of life that he didn’t even let it show in his eyes just how much you got to him with that line. Were you threatening to send him to hell?

“Your twenty-one notches ain’t shit to me.” He’s sure that by now he’s killed hundreds, maybe thousands. Sure, most he shot in the back, but the number in which he didn’t still far surpasses your miniscule little twenty-one. 

“Then let’s make it twenty-two, yeah?” You didn’t plan on shooting it, but you drew your pistol faster than he could think, trying to put it against his chest to scare him, but his reaction time was faster than you had initially thought. He grabbed the gun from your hand before it ever neared him, and threw it into the grass behind him before shoving you down.  

“Damnit, Red! You have no clue, do you?” He stood over you angrily, looking at your frozen figure like you were an animal he was hunting. “You got a gift that none of us have. Hell, I’ve been doin’ this for sixteen years and I still ain’t as fast as you. You could be the best of us, but you’re too damn stubborn, and too damn arrogant. You’re never gonna get anywhere if you’re dead.”

You stood to your feet, staring at him silently. You didn’t have anything to say to him, and honestly, you weren’t sure what would even be okay at this point. He was still angry, but his arms were no longer tense, and he wasn’t seething through harsh breaths anymore. You turned away from him and walked to your horse, sitting back down by the base of a tree and tipping your hat over your eyes. This was going to be a long day.

-

It was approaching sundown when the caravan actually arrived. You’d been napping when Dutch and Bill first gave the signal. Arthur had been watching for it the entire time, and scoffed when he turned his head to you, finding you still fast asleep as if you had nothing to worry about. 

He took a few steps over towards your resting place, kicking your boot and startling you out of your peaceful slumber. 

“What?” you asked, annoyed. Your hat was still over your eyes, so he couldn’t see how dazed you actually were. 

“Sorry, miss… didn’t mean to disturb you,” he teased, his mood having cooled off since the hours after the fight you had. “Just thought you should be conscious during your first job.”

You huffed and stood to your feet, fixing your hat and making sure you hadn’t left anything on the ground. 

Arthur went back to the lookout position and watched through his binoculars for any signs that it was about to go down… you still weren’t one hundred percent clear on the plan, so you thought you might try and annoy him a little by reiterating it.

“So… Dutch and Bill are gonna close in on the sides, leadin’ the safe carriage away from the rest, and that’s when Javier and John stop it from the front. I got that right?” 

“You got it right,” he droned on mindlessly, trying his best to pay more attention to the small flaming signal in the distance. It’s getting closer, but until they put the fire out, there’s no need to mount your horses. 

“Then it‘s a four man job, they don’t even need us.”

“I s’pose you never heard the term ‘backup’ then, have you?” He snickered, still not even giving a glance in your direction. He was firm as stone in his resolve, and you figured it would be no use trying to entertain yourself further. 

“Didn’t take you as the ‘backup’ type…” you grumbled under your breath, mumbling some other incoherencies that he didn’t get a chance to hear. He was almost sure he saw Bill creeping over to the torch, and became positive when the light went dark. 

“Get on your horse,” he became quieter, more focused. You instantly figured it out that he was the type to zone in on his jobs, and maybe you could learn from it. If you really wanted to be his equal, you needed to learn to meet or best him in everything he thrives at. 

“You get the signal?” 

He nodded, “they’re coming down the trail, we gotta be ready to chase em’ when they come through.”

You both pulled up onto your saddles, holding the horse’s from moving too much. If your position was given away, they might derail the caravan from the trail. You reckon this many rich folk traveling in a pack oughta know someone’s gonna be stupid enough to steal from them. It’s why they have a safe carriage in the first place. 

Within a moment, you can see the caravan coming over the hill. It’s dimly lit as the sun lowers completely behind the mountains, small lanterns clinging to every vehicle on the trail. You look up to the ridge that Arthur had been scoping out all this time, and you see Dutch and Bill riding downwards in a rapid attempt to split the caravan. That’s when you spot it… the stone cold metal wagon, weighing probably more than all the horses in camp combined, and armed to the brim with men on every corner. They carry heavy repeaters, their heads on a swivel. They haven’t seen Dutch or Bill yet, but as they round the corner, they all raise their weapons, just for the sound of horse hooves. 

“Cover ‘em,” Arthur told you, grabbing his rifle off his horse’s saddle. You did the same, not hesitant to start shooting at the men in the distance. You had relatively good cover, and couldn’t really be seen, but upon seeing so much fire come from your side of the trail, they began offroading towards Dutch and Bill. 

“Do we go?” you asked, switching to your pistol as you prepared to let your horse run. 

“Not yet,” he held his hand for you to watch, leaning sideways to see around another tree. He had to make sure the rest of the caravan wasn’t following the safe cart. When he saw that most of them stopped in place, he flicked his wrist, pointing in the direction you needed to go. “Now.”

You rode quickly and out onto the trail, passing the other carriages. You could vaguely hear women crying and men yelling. They ain’t gotta be afraid for their lives, so long as they stay put. 

It wasn’t hard to catch up to the gang, as they had taken the remaining guards off on the way to stopping the carriage. There was one rogue horseman that Arthur turned and shot before he could get too close to the area, but other than that, they were able to get the damn thing stationary enough to rob. 

“John, hold him off,” Dutch commanded, watching the younger man hold his gun to the carriage driver’s skull. The man cried out for mercy, not knowing that Dutch would spare his life regardless. He was unarmed, and wasn’t standing in their way, so obviously they would let him go. The Van Der Linde’s did have a code, after all. “Arthur, you open the back.”

And so he put his gun away and strolled up to the back of the wagon with his head held high, happy this robbery went according to plan… until of course, he opened the back, and was unprepared for a heavily armed man to aim right for his chest and pull the trigger. Two guns sounded at almost the same time, but yours sounded first, and it was just quick enough to skew the aim of the dead man, and he landed a non-fatal blow to Arthur’s shoulder. Both men collapsed, but one was still alive. Twenty-Two…

“Arthur! You alright, son?” Dutch yelled, running over to check on him. You’d already knelt down by where he had fallen back to, trying to sit up, but failing because of the pain. You immediately put pressure on his wound, trying to stop the bleeding on your own accord. You ripped the bandana from your neck and tried tying it up, but it was just barely long enough to go around his entire shoulder and underarm. 

“M’fine, s’just a minor shot, it went through.”

“Brooks, you oughta take him back to camp, see if any of the girls know how to patch him up,” he gave you direct orders, and you nodded, helping a moaning and groaning Arthur to his feet. 

“How’d we make out?” Arthur asked, looking into the open wagon, where Bill and Javier seemed to be rolling in money.

“Pretty damn good,” Dutch replied, giving a pat to your shoulder, since Arthur’s is in disarray. “And Brooks?” 

You looked over your shoulder at him, a hopeful look on your face, longing for the approval of someone besides yourself for once. “Yeah?”

“You did good.”

And there it was, the signed seal of approval from none other than Dutch Van Der Linde himself. 

You and Arthur remained pretty silent on the ride back to camp, mostly because he was in a shocking amount of pain and distress, but he did his best to hold it in.

You hitched and unsaddled his horse for him, doing the same with yours before following him into camp. He made way for one of the ladies, maybe Abigail if Jack was asleep already, or Karen if she wasn’t busy workin’ some of the town men. 

“Hey,” you recognized what he was doing, so you pulled him by the opposite arm in the direction of his tent. “I’ll do it.”

His living area was just wide open space in the trees, unlike yours, however, he got quite a bit more elbow room than you did. Perks of seniority

“You don’t have to-”

“I’m tryna apologize, you should let me.”

He laughed a little, a soft smile on his lips.

“What’re you apologizing for?” He asked, sitting down into his cot as you rummaged through the supplies he had on hand. Maybe not the best stuff around, but to stitch him up and wrap it after, it was fine. He’d survive. 

“Bein’ an ass, and taunting you when I know you could snap my neck in one hand.” You were flat in your tone, too focused on threading a needle to put any effort behind your words. 

“I’d never,” he said, laughing a little. He seemed to be in a cheerful mood for just having been shot. 

“You might,” you tied the thread off and bit the end to break it from the spool. Very hygienic, you know, but you didn’t find a pair of scissors. “You’ve only just barely reached the surface for just how obnoxious I can be.”

“Oh have I now?” 

“Mhm…”

You pulled at his shirt collar, opening just a few more buttons until it could pull back over his arm. He didn’t stop you, or even wince, just sat back and waited for the sting of a needle.

“This ain’t gonna tickle,” you braced him, but as soon as you started digging into his skin, making the actual stitches, he was surprised. You were pretty good at this… the reasoning behind it was probably just another one of your many secrets, he’s sure.

“S’not so bad, actually. You do this a lot?” 

“Not anymore… but I was a little rich girl, remember? Did embroidery and needlepoint since I was a little kid. I kind of miss it, actually.” 

“A gunslinger misses doin’ needlepoint?” he chuckled, feeling the hole in his skin being patched back together. Now you just gotta do the other side. 

“Well sure,” you furrowed your brows, leaning forward to bite the thread again and pull his body so you could see the exit wound. “I used to sit on the porch of my house and do it with my mama.”

He felt sorrowful all of a sudden. “Were you uh… close with your mother?”

You nodded, not speaking in fears you’d tear up, or your voice would crack. The way you both were sitting, he couldn’t see the direct look on your face, but he understood it was probably a sensitive subject. 

Oh to think, what a life you may have led if you were not born a girl. You missed your mother, and your old friends from school. You missed being able to do needlepoint, and other more feminine activities. 

“You know what I hate most about this life?” you uttered, your voice shallow, but you didn’t seem to care all that much anymore. He seemed to take a genuine interest in your problems, and your personal feelings. It was more than you could say about most men. “I haven’t worn a dress in four years… and I really love dresses.”

This wasn’t the meltdown you saw yourself having in front of Arthur, but he didn’t mind it. He placed his opposite hand on your shoulder as you bit off the last thread to seal his wounds. 

“How about this… someday, when you’ve told everyone that you’re- y’know…” he trailed, nodding his head around for emphasis. “I’ll buy you a dress in town. Whichever one you want.”

You couldn’t help but smile. In the span of one day, you’d gone through nearly every emotion you possibly could with this man, but in the end, your resolve had again been weakened, and you found yourself falling into his crystal eyes once more. 

“Thank you, Arthur… You’re a kind man, you know?” 

He shook his head. “Not so kind to most.”

You knew not to argue with him, as you were learning, he was very self deprecating, and there was no changing his mind. You took a leap, unsure of what might come of it, but you wanted to show your gratuity some other way. 

You quickly leaned forward, kissing his cheek ever so softly, almost as if it didn’t even happen. When you sat back, his eyes were a bit wider, and his brows were raised. He seemed to be frozen in surprise, and words failed him. You didn’t want him to possibly find words that could hurt, so you stood up to leave, calling after him whilst walking away. 

“Goodnight, Arthur.”

And that would have been good enough, but your heart skipped a beat when your sentiment was returned. 

“Night, Red.”

-

tags are open: @dontworryboutitokie @formula1mount