#and holy crap i nearly lashed out

[naamahdarling]

.

[pizza-is-my-buziness]

Sam/Deena-"This reminded me of you"

The world is water trash so have some Sam and Deena pre-canon softness? I guess?

Deena can count the number of times Samantha Fraser has spoken to her on one hand.

Not that she does count them or anything.

On her hand. 

Four, for the record. 

The time they’d run into each other in the hallway sophomore year and she had knocked Sam’s books out of her hands, had been completely and embarrassingly at a loss for anything to say because holy crap she had no idea that someone’s eyes could be that blue and Sam had assured her that everything was fine, had thanked her when Deena handed the books back. The hey, how’s it going after cheerleading practice one day when Deena had reluctantly hung around the sidelines to prompt Kate to hurry her ass up and get in the car. There was that time Sam had come up to her in the hallway to ask if Deena knew where Kate was, lingering like there was something more she wanted to say, only to disappear again as soon as Deena cleared her throat to try and fumble out a conversational topic that was not about Kate. And then, last week, when Sam had asked her about the geometry homework, how they’d managed to talk about something other than math, even, until class had started.

So, not her finest work by any stretch of the imagination. Though Deena figures it counts for something, the fact that she’d remembered that words were a thing and could be strung together to make a sentence from time to time. Because as terrifying and somehow comforting it had been to realize that she liked girls, it had been even more terrifying to realize that that was no longer an abstract concept thanks to one Sam Fraser and her stupid blue eyes and bright smile and blonde ponytail and studying someone across a classroom was far less frightening than actually trying to have a conversation with them. 

But now, Sam is actually heading in her direction, deliberately and clearly with purpose, given the way that she’s weaving around their fellow classmates on what had been a perfectly average Monday morning until Deena realized that Sam was not only around but actually getting closer by the second and Deena fully envies Kate, who doesn’t seem to care at all, and Simon who continues unimpeded with his story about some customer he’d dealt with the night before, all while shoving half a Poptart into his mouth.

Meanwhile, Deena feels like she might combust on the spot. Normally, the annoyed and aloof expression she wears while within the halls of Shadyside High comes easily but at the moment it feels dangerously close to disappearing all together.

“Hi,” Sam says, her eyes skipping between the three of them with a disappointing quickness that Deena tries not to care about or take personally. “I…” She looks at Kate and Deena tries not to mind that either. “We have practice today, right?” 

Kate glances at her with what a thinly veiled expression of amusement, tinged with exasperation. Deena has often found herself on the receiving end of exactly such an expression. “Yeah. Just like every Monday during the season.” 

“Yeah. Right. Duh.” Sam nods and Deena expects her to disappear again, which would be both a relief and a terrible shame. But Sam rocks back on her heels, hesitation vibrating off her in nearly palpable waves, and finally she glances toward Deena. “I…actually…” She clears her throat, slinging her backpack off her shoulder and starting to unzip it. “I wanted to…” 

Sam digs around inside, managing to hold onto the backpack while rummaging through it, and Deena watches her, her curiosity tempered only by the way Sam’s lashes look, framing her downcast eyes, or how her ponytail is coming loose, a tendril of hair brushing one side of her face. 

Finally, Sam looks up again and Deena’s gaze snaps away just as quickly, the way it always does whenever it seems like Sam might catch her in the act of staring just a little bit too closely. “Here. I…this reminded me of you.”

Deena looks at the slightly crumpled pages in Sam’s hands, the jagged edges suggesting that had been torn from a magazine and when Deena takes the pages from her, the first thing she notices is a photograph of some woman she doesn’t recognize, seated behind a drum kit looking like an absolute badass with her sticks in one hand. Deena doesn’t recognize the name either, doesn’t know anything about this person the headline claims is the “future of rock and roll” but it hardly matters because for just a split second, Deena imagines herself sitting there behind a drum kit that very clearly did not come from the high school band department, staring down a photographer’s lens like she’s daring the world to fuck with her. 

And then reality is quickly crowding its way back into her mind, namely the fact that she’s still standing beside her locker in the Shadyside High School hallway and Sam…

Sam is watching her, those blue eyes trained on Deena like there really is no one else around them, or at least like nothing else matters, clearly waiting for Deena to do…something other than just stand there staring back at her and this is why they’ve only spoken four times before because she blows it every single time. 

“I…just thought…” Sam clears her throat, shrugging, clearly mistaking Deena’s silence for confusion or disappointment or something worse maybe and Sam shrugs, color dusting the very tips of her ears. “You play the drums…so I just thought you might-”

“Yeah, no, I love it,” Deena blurts out quickly and Sam’s eyes widen slightly and yeah she’s really, really bad at this. Horrible, if the way Kate is looking at her is any indication, considering that it’s similar to how one might look as they watched an airplane begin to plummet out of the sky. “I mean…it’s cool. Thanks.”

She’s holding the papers tightly enough to wrinkle them and she uncurls her fingers slightly, trying to hold the pages like she doesn’t think that they and the person who gave them to her will just vanish the second she does so. Sam smiles, relief fluttering across her face, and she nods, holding her bag to her chest. 

“Okay. Cool. I…I’m glad you like it.” Sam nods and her gaze lingers, settling on Deena’s and there are so many things Deena suddenly wants to say, all of the words crashing together in her mind in a desperate storm that she knows would never come out right, even if she managed to say anything at all. 

Thankfully, Sam doesn’t wait, doesn’t give her the opportunity to somehow make everything worse. Sam just steps back, shouldering her bag once more. “I…I’ll see you in class, okay?” 

“Yeah, okay,” Deena says, nodding and glancing back toward the article in her hands rather than the girl in front of her. “See ya.” 

Sam leaves and Deena immediately regrets everything about the past sixteen years of her life, but mostly just the past sixteen seconds. 

When she looks up again, both Kate and Simon are looking at her and she scowls, bristling. “What?” 

“Dude…” Simon says, shaking his head. “Crash and burn.” 

Deena’s scowl only deepens, a furrow carving its way between her brow. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

Kate only shakes her head, sighing the sigh of the long-suffering. “Don’t say anything, Simon. She doesn’t deserve our help anymore.”

Deena glares at her. “Your help? You haven’t done any-” 

“Dude, Sam just brought you some article about super badass lady drummers and you just stood there.” Simon clucks his tongue, finishing the rest of his Poptart. 

“So?” 

Kate narrows her eyes, pressing her lips together. “Deena. Does Sam look like she goes around reading magazines that have articles like that in them?”

Deena glances at the papers in her hand, the pages steadily growing more wrinkled from the way she’s continually clutching them like she half expects someone to come snatch them back out of her hand. And that would be a tragedy because Sam is the one that gave them to her.

The one who happened upon the article, saw it, and thought of her. 

Huh. 

Deena swallows, grateful that her friends can’t tell the way her heart is suddenly fluttering nervously in her chest. 

“It’s no big deal,” Deena grumbles, mostly to reassure herself of this fact. “I’m sure she was just…being nice.” 

Kate and Simon exchange a glance and Simon arches his eyebrows, shrugging. Deena looks back and forth between the two of them, narrowing her eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” Kate sighs. “You don’t deserve to know.” 

Deena glares at her, but with little effect. 

She needs better friends.

~ ~ ~ 

“Hey.”

This time, Sam is the one caught by surprise, looking up at Deena quickly, eyes slightly rounded as though she never would’ve imagined such a thing was possible. Not that Deena could blame her, considering how little Deena has offered in the way of conversational partnership recently. 

Or ever. 

But now she’s here, standing beside Sam’s desk before the start of math class and now that she’s on the receiving end of Sam’s attention, it’s far less terrifying than she would’ve anticipated.

Maybe it has something to do with the blue of Sam’s eyes.

Or the article that Deena has already read a half dozen times, soaking up with the words themselves and the imagined memory of Sam finding it and thinking of her. 

“I wanted to let you know I read that article,” Deena says, sitting down in the empty desk next to Sam’s. Usually, Briana St. James occupies that spot but she’s nowhere to be found and honestly Deena isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. “It was really cool. Thanks for…you know…grabbing it for me.” 

Sam smiles and it’s intoxicating, this new found ability to be the one to cause such a phenomena. Deena thinks she might never get enough of it. To be the one to make Sam Fraser smile? Who knew such a thing was possible. 

“No problem. I’m glad that it was interesting.” Sam’s smile doesn’t falter, even as she pauses, seeming to be weighing something in her mind. Finally, she adds, “I stole it from one of the magazines in the library. So don’t tell anyone.”

Deena laughs and Sam’s smile only grows and there’s a sudden unfettered lightness in Deena’s chest that feels dangerous and thrilling and as intoxicating as the realization that she could be the reason that Sam smiles. That maybe she could even make her laugh, make her cheeks pinken, the possibility of all of this crashing into Deena with a sort of reckless abandon that suddenly makes her feel like anything is possible, including this, this moment, this person, this electricity that she feels coursing through her suddenly. That it might all matter when for so long it seemed like nothing ever really would. 

“Don’t worry,” Deena assures her, “your secret’s safe with me.” 

Their eyes meet, gazes lingering, and Deena feels it still, that ozone crackling possibility on the tip of her tongue. 

Like it might mean something more when Sam smiles back at her and says, “Okay. Good.” 

Like, for the first time, Deena isn’t afraid to find out. 

[kudosmyhero]

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (IDW) #24: City Fall - part 3

Read Date: February 24, 2023 Cover Date: July 2013 ● Writer: Kevin Eastman ◦ Bobby Curnow ◦ Tom Waltz ● Art: Mateus Santolouco ◦ Mike Henderson (pg 3) ● Colorist: Ronda Pattison ● Letterer: Shawn Lee ● Editor: Bobby Curnow ●

**HERE BE SPOILERS: Skip ahead to the fan art/podcast to avoid spoilers

Reactions As I Read: ● I remember being annoyed in the previous issue that Casey Jones's mom basically guilt-tripped him into staying with his toxic, abusive father. In this new vision, thankfully, she is absolving him of responsibility of his father. ● holy crap Casey Jones looks rough. no surprise considering Shredder nearly killed him ● April and Angel are in his hospital room with him when he regains consciousness ● heheh, their reaction after Hob asks them what makes them think he's lying:

● heheh, leave it to Michelangelo to tame Slash with junk food ● ohhh, so Hob led them there after all. it looked like a double-cross at first ● Donnie looks angry and scared, Raph just looks angry, poor Mikey looks scared spitless ● holyyyy… wow, when you have a character who is the epitome of calm and patience, it's all the more impactful when something finally makes them lash out:

● oh Leo… ● SLASH SMASH! ● Slash's face when he asks Mikey for more "can-dee" while at the same time slamming a Foot ninja to the floor is just… chef kiss ● 👏👏👏👏👏

Synopsis: The Shredder walks in on Karai practicing a Korean form of martial arts, geommu. He tells her to get ready to battle Splinter and the Turtles.

Casey Jones is still unconscious from surgery. In his imagination he is at the old pond where he used to practice hockey. He sees his mother as an angel and she tells him to wake up. Casey wakes and asks April and Angel to tell him what's going on with the Turtles.

Old Hob has lead Splinter, Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo to the Foot's hideout where Leonardo is being held. Due to their past history, Hob has to assure them he's telling the truth. While Splinter, Raph and Don debate whether or not they can trust Hob, Mikey introduces Slash to candy, burrying the hatchet. Hob leads Splinter and the three Turtles to a door and picks the lock, letting them enter before him. They enter the pitch black room, when suddenly Hob slams the door shut and locks it. The lights come on and the Shredder stands before them, flanked by Karai and Alopex. Splinter states that they have come simply to retrieve Leonardo and that no bloodshed is necessary, although they will use deadly force if they are forced to. Shredder says that as they speak, his Foot ninja are staging a multi-pronged attack, cementing the Foot's hold on the criminal underside of the city. Shredder says that he will end Splinter and the Turtles as well, and that he has already ended Leonardo. At this, Splinter attacks the Shredder, prompting Leonardo to step forth, clad in Foot Clan regalia. He says he will not allow Splinter to harm his master. Leo attacks Splinter, saying he is not his son. Raphael charges Leonardo, but Leo blocks him. He attacks Raph, Don and Mikey all at once, but because they're holding back he defeats them all. Shredder tells him not to finish Splinter, as he wants to kill him himself, but he may slay the rest. Splinter and the three Turtles attempt to fight their way to the door, but a whole legion of Foot ninja have surrounded them. Just when the battle seems hopeless, Slash bursts through the large warehouse door, allowing the group to escape. Hob explains that he had to make Shredder think he had delivered Splinter and the Turtles to him to keep him off his back, and that his offer to team-up still stands.

(https://turtlepedia.fandom.com/wiki/City_Fall,_part_3)

Fan Art: Alopex by RuslanaN

Accompanying Podcast: ● Shellheads - episode 46

[sukirichi]

— just the two of us

request: I almost read all of your jujutsu kaisen writings and I love it. Your writing is really good! I do not know if a request about a fics🥞 about satoru gojo who is really in love and not very possessive with an oblivious reader. It will be fun to see Satoru try to flirt with her and she doesn't get it🤣

pairings: gojo x oblivious! reader

notes: THIS IDEA IS SO CUTEEE I absolutely loved every second of writing it! thank you for the request and I hope you like this! 🥞 breakfast has been served!

word count: 3.3k

warnings: none, other than this is unedited and written humorously rather than seriously~

masterlist !

Gojo doesn’t know whether he’s lucky – or completely cursed – over the fact you’ve got no idea he’s so in love with you.

It’s a bright sunny morning, perfect for outdoor training, and he walks with you all the way to school with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. You stretch your arms out in the sky to bask in the morning glow and warmth of the sun, sleeves pushed up to your forearms to “get that vitamin D.”

Satoru snickers at your statement, because you’d totally be getting a different kind of Vitamin D if only you’d notice him. Sometimes he wonders, if maybe you’d inherited the Six Eyes instead of him, would you finally be able to see him – or would you still remain unaware?

He doesn’t even know where it began. A year ago, Yaga introduced you as the newest staff member. You’d been so fidgety and nervous then, unsure of what to do and worried if maybe the kids wouldn’t love. They did, of course, how could they not. Not only were you extremely fun to be with, you’re also caring, fretting and even crying whenever one of the students got injured over a mission.

Shoko reminds you all the time that this should be normal for you by now, but you always cry every time, sobbing that they’re still only kids and should be out having fun.

Yeah, maybe that’s where it began. Your kindness struck a chord in Satoru’s heart, and before he knew it, he was falling for you. Hard. Next thing you know, he shows up five minutes before you leave for work, mock-saluting you before inviting you to breakfast. He does this every damn day, and you still don’t get a single thing.

“That café was really good,” you muse, fingers stretching outwards and giggling as the sun peeks through the spaces. Satoru sighs beside you, wanting nothing more than to slip his fingers through those softer ones. “We should go back there sometime. Maybe even take the kids with us this weekend so we can all have breakfast together!”

Satoru masks a snicker with a cough. It reminds him of the time Megumi called you mom and dad by accident, to which you happily responded with before tackling the boy in hugs, while the strongest jujutsu sorcerer only flushed in embarrassment.

Him being him though, Satoru played it off cool, flipping his hair before striking a pose. “Huh, a dad?” he smirks, “The only person who gets to call me daddy would be no one else but Y/N.”

The raven haired first year student immediately recoils in disgust. Meanwhile, the innuendo flies straight through you, and you peer up at him innocently with your head tilted to the side. “Daddy? Why would I call you my dad? My father is still alive and well, and I don’t see you marrying my mom or anything,” Just as Megumi nearly howls in laughter – another evidence that you’re really something else to get the usually stoic boy to lose his composure like that – you snap your fingers, the light bulb above your head practically shining. “Oh, I get it! You prefer younger women and you want them to call you that! Kind of like the hype for onii-chan nowadays.”

Hopeless, Satoru wants to say, you’re absolutely, utterly hopeless.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Satoru shrugs nonchalantly, sending a smirk your way. It usually drives everyone crazy, but you only smile back up at him in the same way you smile with everyone, and he tries his best to not show his shoulders are deflating. Nevertheless, he doesn’t give up. “How about you and I go out somewhere this weekend? The movies, perhaps?”

Say yes, say yes – please say yes.

Really though, he’s waiting for that ‘no’ already. Satoru knows you always go out of town during the weekends to visit your family in the countryside, only coming back on Monday the next week with a basket of fruits and traditional goods that isn’t so easy to find in the city.

But then you clasp your hands together in excitement, lashes fluttering delicately as you beam up at him. “Really? You’d like to go to the movies with me?”

“Of course I would,” Satoru tries not to stutter, hiding the fact that he’s completely taken aback. He’s the Gojo Satoru for heaven’s sake, he shouldn’t be this affected by anyone’s presence. “What makes you think I wouldn’t want to?”

“Oh, nothing, I just thought you were busy. This Saturday, then?”

Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap, it’s actually happening – his mind was barely functioning at this point, and he even slapped his cheeks to snap him back to life. “I thought there was a fly,” he lied with a chuckle, “But yeah, Saturday. I’ll pick you up?”

“Yeah, sure!”

Satoru wouldn’t stop smiling the whole way to the school. Even when Yuuji had face planted into the ground and Megumi sprained his ankle from training, he wasn’t able to get rid of the ridiculously big smile that stretched across his lips. He’s floating in cloud nine, flowers erupting from his ears and heart-shaped emojis bursting in his background.

“Well, you look creepy,” Shoko commented in the faculty room the moment you excused yourself, “Did you land a date with her or something?”

“That I did,” he stated proudly, even banging his fist on his chest like a deranged form of King Kong.

“I can only hope Y/N makes it out alive,” Nanami announces from behind the newspaper he’s reading, legs crossed over another before he peeks above the paper, narrowed eyes dead set on the blindfolded man. “Don’t be too wild with her, Satoru. She’s a gentle soul despite being a sorcerer – I humbly suggest you don’t mess with her feelings.”

“Are you kidding me? She’s the one messing with my feelings by being so fucking cute all the time!”

“Who’s cute?”

Shoko nearly spits out her coffee the moment you enter, glancing around the room and sitting down next to a shock-still Satoru. Nanami only huffs in his seat with a shake of his head. It doesn’t take long before Satoru regains his confidence and recovers from his shock – he’s turned to you with his torso completely facing your way.

You bask in the attention, mimicking the gesture until your faces are mere inches from one another. The fact you’re so responsive and attentive to him yet still painfully naïve strikes a mental war of himself debating whether he wants to kiss you or knock your head upside down. Satoru chooses neither options as he leans closer, his smile growing wider when you don’t pull away, and he doesn’t stop moving until his lips are right beside the shell of your ear.

“You’re cute.”

Shoko shudders at the same time Nanami just gives up on everything, folding his paper and lying that he’s got someplace to go with Ichiji. Satoru patiently waits for your reaction; for you to crumble this time around.

You’re silent for a moment, brows almost right across each other when you register his words. Satoru ends up holding his breath for your next words, wondering: is this it? will she finally understand what I feel for her now?

Even Shoko ends up sitting at the edge of her seat, silently watching the exchange with interest barely hidden in her sparkling eyes. Satoru watches as your lips open, his eyes transfixed on the way the soft flesh moves. They tilt upwards, revealing a set of a wide smile – the smile he can never get enough of. “Thank you!” you giggle at his compliment, “You and Shoko are very cute too! And the kids too, especially Toge! Not that I’m saying he’s my favourite—”

“He’s definitely your favourite student,” snorts Shoko who is ignoring the way Satoru turns completely gray beside you.

It turns out you still haven’t figured it out after all.

“The kids this – the kids that,” the tall, lanky man whines, his head falling back on the back of the leather couch. He looks so utterly defeated you can’t help but lean over him to check if he’s okay, but Satoru pouts and hides his face under his uniform instead. “Why can it never be just the two of us?”

“Sorry, what did you say?”

This time, you’ve kneeled on the couch to hover him. You even pluck one side of his blindfold off to see how he’s doing, and suddenly thankful you can’t see the way his cheeks are absolutely flaming right now. 

“Nothing,” he assures, his smile hidden behind his shirt. You look absolutely adorable hovering over him like that – eyes wide and lips pouty – what he wouldn’t give to kiss those lips right now, but it isn’t the right time, and Satoru just needs to find a better way to tell you how he feels. “It’s nothing.”

It’s absolutely not nothing.

Saturday couldn’t come faster.

Satoru finds himself willing time to go faster. Once the awaited day finally comes, he wastes no time in choosing his best outfit; an oversized black shirt tucked into black skinny jeans before styling his hair up the way he likes.

He winks at his reflection in the mirror, going ooh and aah at how hot he looks. It’s another reason why he can’t comprehend why you don’t like him yet, when, uhm, he knows he looks damn good? He’s pretty funny too – and his strength and power is already a no-brainer. Satoru can’t wrap his head around any possible reason why you wouldn’t like him; it’s basically a life or death mission at this point.

With that end goal in his mind and a spritz of perfume later, Satoru sashays out his apartment. Even though it’s already dark outside and he spent the whole day walking back and forth in his room trying to come up with ways to confess to you, he acts coolly all the way to your apartment.

This time around, he’s more than confident. He’s going to have you wrapped around his pretty little finger, “Wow,” is the first thing he says, pulling his blindfold down just to look at you.

Satoru feels blessed in that exact moment to witness how the heavens took their time with you, creating only the best out of the best and birthing the most magnificent person ever. Suddenly, he grows an urge to run to the countryside and thank your parents for going funky one night and creating you, because you’re an absolutely magnificent gift and it really baffles him how you’re real.

“Wow,” he repeats again, and you chuckle when he shakes his head. “You look beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you look him up and down, smiling in satisfaction. “You look very handsome yourself.”

Satoru’s been called handsome a million times before that it’s gotten too much in his head already, but hearing it come from your lips hits different. If he was excited before, it’s nothing compared to what he feels now when you loop your arm through his, dangling off his arm like you were a lover.

He knows it’s not real and this is probably just a friendly date for you – something he intends to clear up later – but it doesn’t stop him from puffing his chest up a bit, almost as if bragging to everyone around you that he was the one you’re with, and that he was the one you’re going to the movies with.

All your babbles about everything goes straight into one ear and out the other. He wants to listen to you, he really does, but he’s so intoxicated with your voice that he just ends up nodding at everything you say; his attention mostly on how sweet you sound and smell.

His feelings only intensify a hundred times more when you finally make it to the theatre. Not only is it dark, but you’re sitting right next to him, arms and thighs brushing against each other. He takes note of every little movement you make, smiling to himself when you don’t pull away from his thigh flush against yours.

In this close proximity, your perfume overwhelms his senses. He finds himself leaning closer just to get a little more taste of it, his arm resting on the armrest beside him and placing his cheek on his open palm.

He doesn’t even know what the movie is about. All he can see, hear, feel and recognize is you – nothing and no one but you. Just as he wanted, it’s just the two of you.

Satoru reaches out to the bowl of popcorn in his lap to distract himself from the need of kissing you already. He was so smug that he’s on this date with you; now he feels like the world is laughing and mocking at him because you’re so close yet so far away. The last thing he wants is to say something weird and have you running for the hills. It’s clear you don’t like him, after all.

You end up reaching for it the same time he does, making your fingers brush. It sends a jolt of electricity down his spine and he immediately retracts it.

Looking up at him with an apologetic smile, Satoru knows he’s messed up. “I’m sorry,” you blurt out, raising your hands in surrender with a nervous chuckle. “I should’ve gotten my own bowl instead.”

Satoru stares at you through his blindfold. You’re close enough that he can count your lashes – both top and bottom row – and he’s so stupefied at this point that he just says the first thing that comes to his mind; absolutely anything just to get your attention. “Cold,” he shows you his hand, “I’m cold.”

“Oh,” you nod and slip your fingers through his. Satoru nearly gasps at how electrifying the sensation is from having your smaller, softer fingers collide with his, your hands fitting perfectly in his bigger, calloused ones. Then, you close your intertwined hands and smush your cheek with it to transfer your heat – completely unaware that Satoru feels like he’s floating in his own Infinite Void right now. “Feel warmer now?”

“Yes,” he replies. “Extremely.”

Something beast-like wakes within him after that. Now that he knows you don’t mind touching him at all, Satoru can’t help but want to take out all his playing cards and just go fuck it. So he does – and he might regret, he might not – who cares? It’s just the two of you, and you’re the only one he ever cares about this much that he’d pretty much let you do anything at this point.

“You know,” Satoru begins, shifting until your joined hands are resting on top of his chest. His heart is just about ready to burst through its confines at this moment, but he holds back. It’s now or never. “Shoko and Nanami are annoyed that I talk about you all the time.”

Your eyes widen at his statement. “Really? Do you talk badly about me or something?”

“No,” he nearly groans in frustration, “You’re really pretty and cool. You’re amazing during missions, too, when you fight, it’s like I’m witnessing a warrior princess. So cool.”

This makes you laugh until the person sitting behind you rudely shushes you. You bow your head in apology, turning to Satoru with a softer smile this time; one that looks reserved and private compared to your big grins. “Oh, no,” he closes his eyes even behind his blindfold, “Don’t smile at me like that. I don’t think I’ll still be cool if I end up stuttering over my words.”

“Satoru!” you whisper-hiss, although your chest is filled with so much giddiness too that you’ve both forgotten about the movie; unaware that the entire theatre was crying over the main character’s friend’s death. “What are you going on about?”

He wants to laugh so damn hard. He thought confessing his feelings for you would end up in a pitiful heartbreak that you’d be weirded out and push him away. For a moment, he forgets it’s you, and that nothing is ever difficult or painful with you – other than, of course, you being oblivious, but that isn’t something he can’t fix. He’ll get you on the train one way or another.

“I have a confession.”

“Yeah?”

“I was practicing how to ask you out for a whole hour in the mirror,” Satoru whispers, careful to not ruin the melancholic mood of theatre. It doesn’t even surprise him that his world is filled with nothing but sunshine even if the world around you has descended into grief and loneliness. “I also called Nanami on first date tips.”

“Nanami?” you echo with a gasp, “Why Nanami?”

“Because he’s married, that’s why. Mans know some tips for sure.”

“Wait, so,” you chuckle nervously, and Satoru waits, waits for you to pull away or push him back – anything that would indicate discomfort. He’s patient the whole time, watching carefully as you only squeeze his hand and gesture to the both of you with your free one. “This is a date? Our first date?”

“Only if you want to be,” Satoru shrugs, grimacing afterwards at how sappy he sounds. “Well, I actually consider this our first date and I’ve been waiting for this for like forever now, so I sure as hell hope you want this too. I didn’t dress myself up today only to come back home crying.”

Satoru’s heart – if possible – only beats crazier and sings the syllables of your name when you start laughing harder to the point you have to muffle it by burying yourself in his bicep. He feels like his muscles and nerves could erupt at any moment. It’s crazy – absolutely insane – how you have him wrapped around your finger like this. He doesn’t complain though; he never will.

“I’m glad,” you mumble through his shirt, your erratic heartbeat matching kiss when you take the first tentative step of kissing his jaw.

Satoru stiffens underneath you, a low growl ripping from his throat. He’s feral, wild, drunk at the sight and scent of you. You make him feel like he’s fluctuating between dimensions, all the planets just crashing on one another until the stardust is left in your eyes because what else could be an explanation for what he’s feeling other than a supernova collision of hearts?

“You always make me feel so happy when you’re around that I still can’t believe you feel the same way. I was so worried that maybe you wouldn’t get my hints.”

Satoru groans, “What the hell? How long have you liked me?”

“I guess when you started bringing flowers to Megumi randomly just to piss him off.”

Satoru wants to rip his hair out. That was just a few weeks after you’ve started working with him, meaning you both have liked each other this whole time and he’s been suffering and feeling stupid just for nothing?

“God, Y/N,” he mutters to himself, “You really do know how to make a man go crazy, huh?”

That innocent smile on your face lets him know that as usual, you’re oblivious of everything. Satoru is right; he still can’t decide whether he wants to whack you in the head upside down. With a sigh, he ends up choosing the latter, nearly falling over his seat when you let out a surprised yelp at the feeling of his lips on yours.

It doesn’t take long before you grab onto his shirt and cling to dear life, laughter bubbling through your lips as you kiss. The sound is so precious he wants to bottle it up and keep it treasure for the rest of his life, but Satoru doesn’t rush anything.

With you and only with you is he ever capable of feeling like it’s just the two of you in a world filled with chaos and destruction.

[mythicamagic]

“Call it a truce”

(For the prompt if you’d like)

They'd crossed paths eight times now inside the godforsaken maze. Naraku had placed them under some sort of spell- Kagome wasn’t totally sure if her friends were also somewhere inside. It had all happened way too quickly. One second she’d been fighting alongside her comrades- the next, waking up inside a bizarre hellscape.

Sadly the only person she’d seen thus far was Sesshoumaru of all demons. When they’d first bumped into each other- blue and gold had narrowed- both quickly turning in the opposite directions.

Gradually, however, time wore on. A continuous mist obscured every corner of the black maze, its towering walls strangled by twisting, thorny vines. Red skies hung overhead, a barrier likely preventing Sesshoumaru from flying upwards, otherwise he would've escaped by now.

Kagome had just one arrow and one weathered bow. No food, and no water. Just the clothes on her back and strung out nerves, wits starting to fray at the edges. Her footsteps sounded too loud in the empty space. The mist kept rolling, making her paranoid- imagining salivating demons and evil spirits haunting her steps.

Am I going to die in here?

Gritting blunt teeth, Kagome let out a frustrated noise- wrapping her hands around the nearest thorny vines and letting reiki burst free from her fingertips. Maybe she could just blast her way through the wall. Pink light glowed like a signal flare, shimmering and giving her a brief taste of renewed hope.

“It will not work.”

She frowned, registering Sesshoumaru’s acerbic tone. Just as he’d said, when her holy light died, the thorns remained.

Kagome glanced over her shoulder, finding him closer than expected. She shifted warily to maintain some distance. They’d refrained from talking so far during their encounters in the maze. This was unexpected. And worrying. If Sesshoumaru was out of options, things were dire.

“Flying is a no go, I’m guessing?"

He stiffly nodded in response, head tilting back to gaze hatefully at the high walls. Kagome shivered, wrapping both arms around herself. “Damn it. I have no idea what to do. I can sense Naraku’s youki but it's everywhere so there's no chance of pinpointing him. It’s soaked into the air like gasoline."

"I am also unable to locate the wretch."

Kagome blinked, glad he was reciprocating conversation.

"We're locked in a spell or under a curse, I’ve got no doubt about that. I just don’t know if these are our real bodies or not…”

Were they trapped somewhere mentally? Caged like birds?

Sesshoumaru levelled a look down to her hands, gesturing with a claw. “The cuts do not hurt?”

Kagome blinked, flexing her fingers. She hadn’t even realised they’d been pricked by the thorns. “N-no.”

“Then it appears he has either somehow trapped us within a space that has absorbed our conscious minds or put us in an area that dulls the senses. Perhaps a keeper box of some kind," Sesshoumaru said easily, as though he did this all the time.

Kagome’s heart pumped at a dizzying speed. Keeper box. She'd been in one of those before. The face of sage Tokajin came to mind. “Crap,” she whispered.

"Unpleasant memories, miko?" a lofty, entertained tone brushed her hearing.

Kagome sneered half-heartedly, "it's nothing."

Sesshoumaru's eyes glowed, smiling. As if he could see right through her. "Hn."

“We gotta get out of here," she said dismissively. "Since this is Naraku we’re dealing with- I doubt just finding the centre of this maze will let us get outta here and break the curse, and knowing him there’s no exit.”

“Hn, and yet I can think of nothing else after trying everything."

Kagome gave him a sweeping glance over, swallowing. She hadn’t seen him since he’d nearly killed Kohaku- still thankful he’d released the mind controlled boy.

They were still technically enemies despite a shared goal of killing Naraku.

Steeling herself, Kagome took a breath. She then boldly stuck a hand out towards him. “Let’s work together. We haven’t got much choice. Call it a truce.”

Silence.

Kagome chanced a look at his face.

Sesshoumaru merely stared at the offered hand unblinkingly. Kagome giggled weakly. “A-ah, you shake it. It’s an ‘across the seas’ type of gesture to show we’re sealing a deal.”

Interest livened his animalistic gaze. He briefly seemed considering, perhaps wondering about her origins. Long fingers unfurled from his palm, clasping her hand strongly. The shock of skin to skin contact and sharp claws nearly jerked Kagome enough to rip her hand free. She forced herself to stay still, feeling a surge of something shoot down to her toes.

He was warmer than expected. It surprised her that callouses roughened his palm, likely from years of swordplay. She'd always figured he was too inhumanly perfect to have such a thing. Sesshoumaru blinked slowly, remaining locked in a stare. For a moment, Kagome dumbly admired his pretty white lashes.

She caught herself staring and briskly shook his hand, prying her fingers free before gesturing to several pathways, cheeks red. “S-so which way?”

Mokomoko’s soft fur caressed the bare flesh of her lower thigh in passing as Sesshoumaru stepped towards one. “I have yet to take this path. Stay close, troublesome miko," he threw over one shoulder. "I will not slow down for you.”

“Please don’t. You walk slow enough as it is,” Kagome griped, following.

---

Demons began littering the narrow, claustrophobic spaces within the maze. Kagome had to duck and weave around Sesshoumaru as he killed them with acid or fierce swipes of his claws. It forced them to get up close and personal, occasionally plastering miko and Daiyoukai together.

His scent wafted into her unwilling nose more than once- masculine and sharp, reminding her of thunderstorms. Since she couldn’t use her reiki with much finesse yet and the close quarters put her archery skills at a disadvantage, Kagome tried her best to be helpful.

“Behind you!” she’d yell, ducking under his arm before grasping his sleeve. “On your right!”

Sesshoumaru dispatched enemies without argument or complaint, calmly moving on once they lay dead.

As time dragged on, Kagome’s legs began to ache from the endless walking. Her stomach grumbled near constantly. Her limbs and body were becoming weak.

She didn’t breathe a word about it- though noticed Sesshoumaru’s lingering attention. Turning a corner, she stumbled, an arm catching her around the waist, steadying.

Kagome’s belly fluttered, and she quickly straightened. “Thanks.”

“Hn.”

They book occasional breaks, but respite was near impossible with the continued droves of enemies. After what she could only guess to be at least 17 hours- though it felt like days, they finally arrived at the centre of the maze. Exhausted, Kagome kept a hand buried within mokomoko to keep her upright, leaning against the stability he offered. They’d shed a lot of restraint about touch around hour 9 of their journey.

As first suspected however, there was nothing in the middle of the maze. Just a plain space with a single fountain. They hadn’t come across a single exit either.

Kagome’s knees quivered a little, “d-do you have a plan B?” she rasped, throat dry. What she wouldn’t give for some water.

Sesshoumaru stared grimly ahead, slowly lowering his calm attention to her. If she could hazard a guess, he was likely thinking he could survive. He’d weather the storm of hunger and dehydration much longer than she.

“I suspect the reason Naraku lingers is because he predicted I would kill you,” his velvety voice was completely at odds with his words.

Kagome stiffened, leaning slightly away from the warmth of luxurious furs. “...That would make sense,” the admission slipped out, “he’s a sadistic prick. He’s probably watching us right now, getting his kicks from seeing us struggle.”

Sesshoumaru turned to her, lifting a clawed hand. The sharp points gleamed. They could tear through her supple flesh and bones with ease. Kagome had witnessed it enough times to know.

Rendered completely exhausted though, she had little room left for fear. She stared at him blandly, falling quiet.

He arched a brow, resting those deadly claws against her flushed skin, gradually unfurling to hold her neck. “You will not resist?”

“I’ve never taken you to be the kinda guy who would take the easy way out,” Kagome muttered, raising her chin. “Am I wrong?”

Was it her imagination or did his pupils dilate a touch?

She shivered, feeling the pads of his fingers drag against the nape of her delicate neck, thumb resting at her throat.

“No,” he rumbled softly, gripping tighter and drawing her in closer. “But since we have an audience, miko,” his voice lowered, “let us give him a show.”

Blue eyes widened- seconds before lips crashed to hers. Kagome gasped- and a sinuous tongue took advantage, shoving inside to plunder her mouth. Sensation slammed into her gut. Suddenly she was immediately aware of everything. The warmth of his palm, the dry rub of his callouses along her neck. The goosebumps rising on her flesh. How his tongue skilfully played, twined and slid against her own- and she found herself responding.

His lips were hot and quick across her own, firm and yielding and then parting to meet her tongue with his anew. Kagome’s breath shuddered. Her entire body thrummed. She found herself touching the fine, soft locks of silver hair behind his ear, strands running through her fingers like water. Their mouths broke apart, and Kagome could only give a breathy gasp as he sucked along the bent arch of her throat.

“Behind me, to the left,” he whispered, kissing her flesh bruisingly hard.

“I know,” she panted.

It happened quickly. They moved in sync- Kagome reaching for her bow and nocking her single arrow while Sesshoumaru turned, angling her to fire at the faint ripple in the sky they’d both sensed the second they’d kissed.

While the blazing firework of pure holy energy streaked into the air, the Daiyoukai followed its progress, flying with Kagome in tow. She held on around his shoulders, praying with all her might it would break through.

Her arrow pierced the demonic barrier- shattering the weak spot immediately. Sesshoumaru broke through, leaving the world of red skies and unsolvable mazes behind.

---

Kagome sucked in a gasping, strangled breath, shooting upright.

“Kagome! She’s awake, guys!”

Putting a hand to her head, she looked to her side- only to be greeted with the sight of Sesshoumaru sitting up from the ground, both of them having been sprawled out. Around them, battle raged. Inuyasha was fighting diligently, swiping madly at continuous rounds of regenerating tentacles.

Miroku and Sango seemed to be on guard duty, having been defending their unconscious bodies. Shippo immediately buried his face in Kagome’s arm, holding onto her. “You’ve been asleep for a good hour after you were both hit by that attack! Naraku kept trying to kill you! Ah- I’m so glad you’re safe!”

Kagome comforted him with a few gentle pats upon his head, murmuring softly. The shifting of weight caught her attention, and she watched as Sesshoumaru stood. He sneered softly to himself, “I do not know why you saw fit to protect this one, but I did not need your aid, humans.”

“I told ya!” Inuyasha shouted from somewhere in the distance.

“We couldn’t let you be absorbed by Naraku or he’d be even more formidable,” Sango griped.

“What my friends mean to say is- you’re welcome, Lord Sesshoumaru,” Miroku amiably smoothed over the situation.

Sesshoumaru grunted, securing his swords in place. Then, slowly, his eyes lowered.

Kagome exhaled a shuddering breath. Her heart slammed against her ribcage, cheeks burning with all the voracity of a fever, chest light and heavy all at once. Sesshoumaru’s gaze fell to the subtle parting of her mouth, before looking her in the eye for just one more lingering moment. He then moved out from behind the protection Sango and Miroku offered, racing headfirst into battle.

He just did it to break the spell, that’s all.

He’d kissed her to help flush out a weak spot from their enemy, which had opened from Naraku's shock- having lost brief control of the spell. Thinking about it as anything more than that would be foolish.

Shaking herself, Kagome followed suit. She grabbed her bow and nocked an arrow, pushing down all confused thoughts and sensations that Sesshoumaru’s wicked mouth had elicited- entering the fray alongside her friends.

[captainrexisboo]

Comfort pt5: Sarad

Link to Previous - this chapter takes off right at the end of the previous part, so!

Here It Is. Part Five. I Love My Boo So Much. Also- my first fully completed fic?? Ever??! Holy crap!!!! Dumb Luck stares at me as it sharpens a knife in the corner

No warnings apply, Rex x Reader, reader is a lady. Questions and comments are always welcome! Let me know if y’all want an epilogue!! 

EDIT!!! Link to Epilogue!!!

Tagging: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @000ayfh @pinkiemme @midnightredemption @simping-for-fives @danger-xylophones @iscream4clones @jyvorakal @leias-left-hair-bun @vesperstalksclones @mackstrut @yamaktaria @juitoverride @callme-eds @greenygreenland All of you have been so wonderful, I love reading your comments/tags, and seeing your names/icons pop up in my notifs always make me smile!!! You’re all amazing!!! Love y’all!!!

~

You sat at your desk, spinning a stylus in between your fingers and back straight, chewing on a swollen, worried bottom lip. Your eyes were rimmed red and puffy, but dry- you had already done all your crying, and were now just sitting alone, stewing in your own emotion. You couldn’t even look at Rex directly as he slowly steps into the room, just thinking to yourself about what happened, replaying the unexpected uneventfulness in your mind, trying to find out why it hurt you so. You felt so hypocritical, throwing a fit about Aurin’s lack of attention when you explicitly asked him to leave you alone. You were such a fool, anyway you looked at it.

Your gaze went low as Rex stepped closer, putting your cup directly in front of you. You gave him a silent nod in thanks, and he stood for a minute, holding his own cup as he shifted on his feet. His voice came out nearly strained, a thin whisper, “Should I… Do you need me to come back later, or-”

“Please stay.”

Your words were croaked, and you winced at the broken sound, but you didn’t want him to leave. You didn’t realize how much you didn’t actually want to be alone until Rex had walked in. He sat across from you, armor clacking together as he got comfortable (or as comfortable as he could in full gear) and you could feel his calculating gaze tracing your face and form. You let out a cough (it was supposed to be a laugh) knowing exactly what he was searching for. “He didn’t hurt me, Captain. Never did, never will.”

You felt a corner of your lips twitch up slightly as Rex let out a sigh of relief, but noticed how he still stayed tense. “Y/N, what’s the matter? What happened?”

What happened?

“What happened indeed,” you let out a wry exhale, “In all seriousness, nothing happened” -you held up a hand as Rex opened his mouth to protest, stopping him before he made a sound- “and that’s just the problem.”

Rex tilted his head, cocking his eyebrow, “I, uh. I don’t think I follow.”

You finally looked up at him with a dead stare, and he stiffened again. You sighed low, your eyelids feeling heavy as your heart sank deeper into your stomach. You let your gaze fall again, before clearing your throat, “I’m sorry, Rex. I… I don’t know what I’m doing. I ask him to leave me alone, and when he does- literally, he barely even spared a glance at me today- I fall completely apart. I don’t know if this is like just a release of energy because I was hyping myself up beforehand and planning all the ways I’d deflect his conversation, or if it’s shock because I wasn’t expecting to be ignored, or if I’m regretting-”

“Hey, slow down, wait a second,” Rex shushed you, voice a little more present as he leaned forward, “Look at me.”

You hesitated, pulling your lip back between your teeth, but did as you were told. You felt meek, glancing up at him through your lashes as he held your stare with his deep honeyed eyes. He gestured towards your caf, and you slowly lifted a hand to wrap around the cup, feeling your shoulders release a little as the warmth of the cup seeped into your palm and fingers. When did they get so cold?

“Take a breath,” Rex demonstrated for you, as you followed his command to the letter, “Now take a drink. Relax.”

You brought the drink up to your lips, letting the sweetened substance flow past your lips and glide easy down your throat. He had this uncanny ability to doctor your caf just right, it never ceased to make your eyes flutter shut, like the drink was a signal that you could begin to let go of any stress that plagued your mind. The same warmth that spread through your hand pulsed through your chest, before you let out a shuddering breath, placing the cup back on the desk. You opened your eyes, Rex giving you a soft smile at your heavy sigh, ”Better?” You nodded to him. “Good. Now, ‘nothing’ happened?”

“Yeah,” you deflated, not defeatedly in self-pity as you were before, but an expel of the tension that had been eating away at you for the better half of the day, “I thought this was what I wanted, and I… I think that’s it’s still what I want, but when he actually put it into practice I just…”

You scoffed at yourself, glancing off to the side to stare at the pile of flimsi Yularen needed to sign off on, “You know how you get yourself excited for something that’s about to happen, something you want to happen, and the moment it happens it’s different than how you’d expect it to be?”

Rex nodded, heart skipping as he thought about Ahsoka’s speculation. What would happen if he told you his true feelings now? Would you laugh at him, thinking he’s playing a cruel joke on you? Would you pout at him, and apologize for not feeling the same way? Would you stare at him with an icy glare and tell him how awful he is for telling you at the worst possible timing? Would you smile at him so sweetly, and get up from your chair to walk around and whisper an admission of your own feelings as well, lips brushing against his temple like that one day he can’t stop replaying in his head? He’s unsure which option scares him the most.

“Aurin ignored me throughout the entire inspection today, even as we stood alone with each other. He didn’t say a word, didn’t look in my direction. He simply stood next to me,” you recounted, gaze going unfocused again, “He did exactly as I asked. For whatever reason, it hurt me. It hurt so much-”

You cut yourself off as your voice cracked, feeling the lump form in your throat again. You reach for your caf, taking another soothing sip, letting the hot liquid push past the emotion rising in your throat. Breathing steady, you looked back into your lap, sitting your caf back on your desk before shrinking into a whisper, “And I can’t figure out why.”

Rex sat still, ankle crossed over his knee. He took a long sip from his own cup, soaking in the information. It was a heavy minute before he cleared his throat, “Do you… do you maybe want to talk to him?” Rex felt himself swallow thickly. “Do you want to be with him again?”

“No.”

You reeled back, wincing at yourself, surprised at how quickly you responded. Rex looked at you intently, but with merciful patience, only the incline of his head urging you to continue. You gazed back into Rex’s eyes, feeling something in your stomach stir from their sincerity. If nothing else, Rex was earnest and kind at his core. You had unwavering confidence in your friendship, and you were reminded of that everytime you looked into his eyes. You could tell him anything- he could pull the truth out of you better than you could push it through by yourself. Alone, you had to hunt for it, search the darkest corners of your mind, and almost always came back into the light empty handed and frustrated. You’d exhausted yourself so easily doing just that today, but when you locked onto Rex’s gaze, he could easily lead you to your truth. He coaxed it out of you with gentle whispers and soft touches, with eyes that practically glowed with an emotion you thought you knew but couldn’t quite place. You swallowed a breath, sitting up straight, and talking directly to Rex, letting your instinct take over as you answered silent questions.

What do you want?

“I want to continue to keep my distance from him.”

Why?

“It was...shocking. To not have any interaction with him. But its what I need, to grow into my own person. It’ll be better this way.”

So how do you explain your reaction?

“I guess I… I’m afraid.”

You stopped yourself from venturing further down that rabbit hole, finally breaking away from Rex’s stare. You took a deep breath, in through your nose and out through your mouth, the emotional strain from today taking its toll on you. You shut your eyes tight, dropping your chin to your chest, trying to stop the headache from coming on, not even looking up as you heard the weighty steps of Rex’s boots as he walked around your desk.

Rex had gotten up from his seat as soon as your lashes hit the tops of your cheeks. He allowed his typically quiet footfalls to echo in the room as he opted for a slow walk to come closer to you, setting his half-finished caf on the edge of your desk. He never seemed to be able to shake his nerves whenever he made a move to touch you, always moving as if time was slowed down around the two of you, in your own little pocket of reality. His hand moved cautiously, making sure you had time to feel his presence, time to move away if you needed to. Rex’s fingers brushed at your shoulder, curling over the muscle as his thumb traced your collarbone, hidden under your uniform jacket. He put pressure there, a slight squeeze, causing you to hum lightly at the contact. Rex continued his motions at your approval, sinking down to one knee to see if he could catch your eyes, only to find them closed. He smoothed his gloved hand over the gray material, following the slope of your shoulder in a fluid motion, keeping his voice low despite being the only two people in the room, “What are you afraid of, cyar’ika?”

The endearment was out of his mouth before he could stop himself, but if you knew what the term meant you didn’t mention it. He left it alone, letting the moment settle.

You shivered slightly at his gravelly tone, taking note of the new word you’d have to ask about later. He said it so softly in a single exhale, that at least you knew it wasn’t supposed to be an insult. You opened an eye, finding his stare on you, and opening the other one as you leaned forward, placing your forehead against his. The position was awkward, your back was hunched and you could already feel your neck getting stiff, but the keldabe kiss made you feel at ease, lifting a hand to wrap around the back of Rex’s head, feeling the prick of his buzz on your palm, the pads of your fingers rubbing lightly over his scalp. You felt a smile twitch up as he gave a relieving sigh of his own, closing his eyes as he melted at your petting.

“I’m afraid of changing,” the admission fell out of you as a wave of calm washed over the two of you, startling yourself, but the grip you and Rex held on each other kept you grounded enough to move forward, “Aurin and I… we were inseparable for so long. I want to know who I am without him, figure out what it means to be me. But I can’t help but think- this is so silly- what if I spend too much time on that? What if I finally complete my journey, but can’t find anyone to love that version of me?”

Your hand moved down to grip at the back of Rex’s neck, his eyes opening as your gaze went downcast, continuing after a breath, “Aurin and I had a love… I outgrew it. What if by the time I finish growing, no one has room to love me like that anymore?”

“I will.”

Your eyes shot back up at the two simple words, growing wide at the sudden revelation. You froze after your eyes locked, swallowing down a breath as you waited for him to continue, still keeping your foreheads pressed together. Rex moved his hand over your shoulder, rubbing up and down your arm in a calming pace, though you’re unsure if it was to soothe your nerves or his own. The air you both were suddenly all-too-aware of sharing thickened as the silence stretched, Rex’s eyes searching your own as he briefly wetted his lips in anticipation of your reaction.

“Y/N, I need you to know, you’ll never outgrow those who already care for you. Aurin kept you locked in a box, and it was a warm, safe box. But you did a brave thing. You took a step out of that box, and as soon as you did you blossomed. Sarad, flower, you’ll always be growing, that’s a part of life,” he cleared his throat, intent on making his devotion ring clear, both of his hands moving to wrap around your own, the one still in your lap, “You’re healing, finding your roots, and already you’ve changed so much, in the brightest of ways. And I… I really, really care for you. I’ll always be here for you, by your side, ready to welcome you into my heart with open arms. If you decide I’m not for you, that’s fine, just please take this to heart- I’ll always make room to love you.”

He held his breath, waiting for your response, not daring to break your hold. Your fingers had stopped their light massaging on his head, but you kept him pulled to you. He gripped your hand between his own, running his thumbs over your knuckles. He didn’t want to let go- if you ended up hating him for this outburst, he wanted to be in your touch as long as possible until then.

You had no response. You were silent and intensely looking right through him, to say you were shocked was an understatement, but you held no doubt that Rex had spoken only the truth to you. The past few months started to replay through your mind, all his little quirks and notions that you thought were just him in culture shock to nat-born socializing became clear- and you could punch yourself for not realizing it sooner. He loves you...seems like he always had. The longer the moment stretched, the more nervous the Captain’s gaze fell, and you just barely choked out a whisper, “Rex…”

Your mouth hung open, stuck in how to continue, letting a breathless, but short giggle come through you as he visibly perked up to your voice. You blinked at him, trying to clear your mind, “I...I-I’m sorry, I need some time to think, still.”

“That’s fine,” Rex nodded, almost forgetting your foreheads were still pushed together as his words came out in a rush, “take as much time as you need. I’m not telling you this as a way to ask you out o-or anything, I just. I just don’t want you to feel unloved. I’m here for you, no matter if you match my feelings or…”

He trailed off, his eyes being pulled to the floor as the other option crossed both of your minds. He didn’t need to say it. You felt your heart ache for him, here he was laying his soul out to you, and all you could do was request that he gives you time. 

But this its time that he’s willing to give. 

“I’ve waited for you for so long already,” his baritone rumbled from his chest, as he slowly brought his gaze back up to you. You felt your cheeks heat under the warmth of the amber hearth that was his eyes, “I’ll gladly wait two lifetimes more.”

Something in you broke. It snapped, and the force of it pushed you forward, colliding with the Captain’s lips. You both made brief sounds, a muffled chirp against a surprised throaty grunt, equal parts terrified and triumphant. He tasted like caf, with a bite of citrus, like he’d been eating an orange, and the thought for whatever reason made you smile against him as your eyes slid shut.

Rex’s eyes blew wide open, freezing in place at your movement. Holding his breath as you stayed on his lips, heart racing like never before, even on the battlefield. This was different, and delightful, and how do you kiss someone properly, is there a manual for it, should he stay still or-

Just as quickly as you brushed against him, you had left, and he had to restrain himself to keep from following you back. You looked at him, and- oh. He knows those eyes.

“I still need time,” you breathed out, moving off of his forehead but fingers resuming their petting over his scalp, “but maybe I’ll run the course quicker knowing you’re at the finish line.”

Rex had dreamed of your eyes looking at him like that, and he was sure his gaze matched. Like you had hung the stars in the sky for the ships to fly through, like he had painted the universe on a velvet canvas- like he loved you. Like you loved him. Your moony gazes were locked on each other before he rasped out, only just remembering to breathe in the quiet moment, “I don’t want to push my luck, but… could you maybe, possibly, kiss me? Again? Please, I feel like I did it wrong.”

He melted in the ring of your laughter, a smile finally breaking through his face at the sound, squeezing the hand he still held. You looked at him with unchecked fondness, and shook your head, “You did fine.” A coquettish gleam came through your eyes, as you gently pulled at the back of his head. He followed your prompting, leaning up eagerly to close the space between you, eyes glancing to your lips as you smiled, “Although, a little practice never hurt anybody.”

[crazynekochan]

Dangan Persona AU

Palace #7

Ruled by Makoto Naegi.

Captive is Mukuro Ikusaba (held captive in cell; will be executed for her crimes in the alternate reality if not rescued in time; picked very much the worst day to dress as Junko).

Shadow manifests as Makoto but wearing a creepy long black cloak, like he is the judge, jury and executioner (which he is), who turns into a 4-armed angel, one wielding a shield, the other a huge revolver (like truth bullets), and the 2nd pair holding up the weight of the world’s hope on his shoulders as a shining globe that seems to get heavier as the battle progresses. It’s also immune to Curse skills, which is rather unfortunate because that’s what everyone was betting on it having since Lincoln (and therefore Makoto)’s weak to Curse skills.

Palace is Hope’s Peak as ala the first game but much more pastel, with the walls instead draped in soft silk, light shining down in jarring contrast to the giant metal plates over the windows. It gives everyone the creeps, especially when the 2nd half starts with much more blood and gore appearing on the pristine sheets and floors.

As a little peep to the next palace, this is also where they get a glimpse of a Shadow Nagito. The original had gotten curious and just barely went a bit into the Metaverse. He managed to get out right away, but not before causing his shadow to be spotted tending to a strange memorial garden of class 78 before vanishing.

Finally after frankly too many puzzles, they arrive at the midway point of Mukuro’s show trial at a near exact replica of the red door to the trial grounds. They open up and find the elevator, but what is much more relevant is the metric fuckton of Junko photos and Monokuma memorabilia all over the room, almost all of them horrifically destroyed in rage, aimed at the faces in particular. Since Mukuro was dressed as Junko the day she got abducted (Junko had a scheduling issue and made Mukuro dress as her for class, even though no one else really bought it), this makes everyone rightfully very nervous and reluctantly head down, despite the sick feelings roiling in everyone’s stomachs, because they’re not gonna like this. And nope, they didn’t like it at all.

They came out to see the trial already underway, 2 large stands loaded with masked figures to the sides of the room and a high circle of 15 podiums surrounding Mukuro, chained into a kneeling position as the Judges gazed down upon her. The party looks up to see them, and finds something rather strange. On one side are 9 funerary portraits on raised poles, with the 6 judges in black robes in front of them, all focused on Mukuro. The Judges are cognitive versions of the DR1 survivors, all looking much worse for wear (cognitive Hiro looks exhausted, cognitive Hina is silently sobbing with a funerary portrait of Sakura in her hands, even cognitive Kyoko looks like she was in mourning), with Shadow Makoto in the center as the chief Justice. It’s right at the ending of the trial, and Mukuro is declared guilty for conspiracy to end the world, to the disgust and horror of the crowd.

Mukuro tries to argue, saying that this must be a mistake, they have the wrong person. Shadow Makoto tells her that no, they know full well who she is, Mukuro Ikusaba (full name, no honorifics). He continues, telling her, in no uncertain terms, all of the crimes he knows of from the alternate timeline committed by the Ultimate Despair. “And to prevent that from occurring, we must tear the despair out, root and stem. Junko would be nothing without her little cronies, after all. What better way to end this right now than by her dearest sister’s death, leaving her powerless?” Then the Shadow has her trapped inside of a cage and sent down to the dungeons to await her execution, before the party can help her.

The rest of the palace works in a similar way to the first half, but everything goes into straight up horror movie territory. Like they were creeped out before, but now it was fucking all sorts of terrifying. It’s pretty much an amalgamation of all of Makoto from the other timeline’s trauma and survivors guilt from the first game. This part of the palace also has a bunches of minibosses that they have to fight through in the second half because holy crap, those things are fucking horrific. The minibosses are all the souls lost to the killing school life and it is very much not pretty. Sayaka covered in blood impaled with knives; Leon tied to a pole, pummeled to a pulp, chucking bloody baseballs; Chihiro with his head bashed in, using a mess of cables and screens to interact with the world; Mondo as a hellish biker that seems to be melting; Taka the terrifying sergeant with his head bleeding; Hifumi with his head bashed in as well, using his horrific Junji Ito-style magical girl drawings for attacks; a thing so burnt and smashed up that they could only identify her as Celeste because of the twin drills; Sakura as a silent warrior, constantly coughing up poison and blood. Even a makeshift “Mukuro”, hardly able to move from all the spears through her body. Holy crap, did that freak everyone out and make them very glad when they next saw their friends again at dinner because they’re alive!

The time limit this time is because Shadow Makoto, while being a twisted mess of repressed anger, sadness, and misery, is also fundamentally a good person and doesn’t want to kill Mukuro before she had even done anything, even though he knows that she’s guilty as sin of conspiring to destroy the world and everything in it (in the canon timeline). That’s actually where the party comes in, because by the time they clear the palace, the Shadow had finally decided that it was now or never and he needed to do this now. When they rush in to stop him, that’s when the boss fight starts.

The fight is genuinely hard as hell and the Shadow isn’t holding back. The attacks are all similar to the various minigames from DR1, just with a Persona flair. Makoto’s providing as much support as he can without being able to control his own persona, with the Shadow lashing out every time that Makoto offers his emotional support. Eventually, they notice that the giant ball of hope is getting heavier to the point of nearly crushing Makoto, who’s holding up the globe like Atlas holding the sky. His Shadow’s about ready to cry, begging the others to stop as Makoto encourages them all to keeping fighting and to not give up now. The battle only stops when they finally get Makoto to confess that he’s not always the bright ball of sunshine that they think he is and that even he needs help sometimes. With that resolved, the shadow returns to being Makoto’s persona, now instead of Lincoln, he is Logos (basically the closest to Jesus as I can get without making an even bigger mess in the MegaTen universe)

[Holy shit, I feel like I wrote a whole novel here! I’m ending this here, good night!}

---

Mod: The design for Makot's shadow is so flipping awesome. It’s so fitting for Makoto considering that he’s the main speaker during the class trials (cause MC and all) and this is literally a trial his shadow is holding, with the shields and revolver in each hand. Though my favourite is him holding up the worlds hope like Atlas with the sky, cause it’s still my favourite part of his character development that he admits in the DR3 anime that he’s sometimes really overwhelmed with always having to be positive as the Ultimate Hope but still keeps it up for ever (and as entertaining the anime was, it was one of the only good things it did story wise, but that’s a different topic altogether...)

The palace must be so disturbing for the party, cause up until now every palace was basically a fantasy place representing something of the person’s life/personality. But now they are in a twisted and later on gory version of their own school, and still don’t know anything of the past timeline. But things are starting to get unravelled now. Though most disturbing must be the memorial garden for their very much alive friends. The fact that the survivors, who were not among the memorial photos, are the judges who look like they experiences something very awful and traumatic. Not to mention the tons of destroyed Junko photos

That the minibosses are the victims in an all horror like fashion, where I’m imagining something along the lines of DR3 anime with Makoto’s despair hallucination, must be so brutal cause these are literally the “corpses” of their friends that are attacking them, who are in this timeline alive and happy

I can only imagine how hard it must have been for everyone to see how Makoto’s shadow actually is, which is basically being overwhelmed with all the support he has to give all the time. Cause everyone does lean a lot on Makoto (not that leaning on people is bad, but there is a limit how much one person can handle, even for Makoto)

[harrystyleswatermelon-sugar]

Afterparty

“Stop, what are you doing?” I squeal and try to push Harry off of me. I mean really, how old is he? Why is he always trying to mock me until I explode and he has to apologise the next day, after I usually storm out on him.

I just don´t get it, why he always is like this. He does the most stupid and childish things, triggering my anger and annoyment constantly. If it was for Louis, I would get it. He is my best friend since I can think but Harry…I just met him a few years ago and barely saw him after our first meeting. Now, as the boys of One Direction are nearing their hiatus, they were more often in London and so we see each other more often.

I don´t want to complain, I am happy to have my best friend around more often, during their crazy ride in the music industry we barely had the chance to catch up, feeling like everything was happening at once and the five years were over in just a second.

“Harry just for once behave. My god, I thought I was the childish one” Louis sighs as he enters the kitchen. Harry finally let go of me and frowns at his friend. He puts the cream away, he tried to spray in my face for several minutes and walks out on us.

“Thanks Lou. I was literally going to stab him. What the fuck is his problem?” I ask and grab the cream to put it back in the fridge.

“I really have no clue; he is different when he is around you. Maybe he is insecure or he just thinks it´s funny. I don´t know. You ok, though?” he asks and I nod, shooting a fake smile at him. He raises an eyebrow at me, but he understands my silence and doesn´t bother to ask. I am very thankful for his silence and look at him. He looks stressed and tired and as he now ruffles through his hair and leans back on the counter, I watch him concerned.

“You really are taking a break, aren´t you? I don´t want you to continue with music and this shit immediately because you literally look like crap” I ask and he nods in agreement.

“Sure, taking a break was my plan since the hiatus came up. I need to rest a bit and spend time with my loved ones” he explains and I smile sheepishly at him. I know that I am included in the term loved ones.

“Louis, Y/N! Are you ever planning on getting your butts out here again?” Niall shouts from the living room and I roll my eyes at Lou.

“Coming, Ni!” I shout back and grab Lou´s hand. He snakes his arm around my shoulders and presses me against his side, as we walk back in the living room. Liam and Niall are spread on the couch and Harry is sitting on the massive armchair in front of the fireplace. I am happy, they decided to light the fireplace, because it is quiet chilly outside. And I like the crackle and the smell of the fire place. Sadly, I have none in my flat, that would be the best thing ever.

“Finally, if you wanna be all lovey-dovey you should get to Lou´s” Niall says annoyed and presses play on the remote before we even have the chance to take our spots. I decide, because I am still freezing, to sit near the fire on the floor, which was ultimately next to Harry in his armchair.

“You cold? Want a blanket?” he asks me, but I shake my head. I am fine but also a bit irritated because his concern.

“I would prefer it, if Niall would stop making such fucking bullshit comments about Y/N and I. We are friends, nothing more” Lou says and I knew he was going to say something about Niall´s comment. He hates it, when one of the boys says something like that, he was always scared it would affect our friendship in a negative way.

“Oh, give it a rest, Lou. We all know, Y/N would never ever date anyone of us. She knows us way too well, right Y/N?” Niall asks me and I smile at him. He basically is right. I know Louis way too long. He is like my childhood Bestie, he always protected me in school. I had a crush on him, when we met, though, but for him I was always like a younger sister. As if he hadn´t enough sisters. We met in the school choir and then again in the football club in Doncaster and he teased me, a girl would never make a goal when he is the goalkeeper. He pissed me off so bad, I took the challenge and finished him. He was so impressed after that, he invited me over to his parents´ house and we became friends. Just like that. Sure, we had some major fights over time and even didn’t speak to each other for a few months, but it never lasted.

“I would definitely not date Louis. That would be so weird” I answer and Louis nods in agreement.

“Would be disgusting, not that she is not beautiful. The man, who gets to marry her is one of the luckiest ones in the world, but we just know each other too long. Wouldn’t ruin our friendship, also” he agrees and shoots a smile at me. I look over at Niall, mouth full of popcorn, staring at the screen. He is not even listening anymore, so I shrug my shoulders and watch the show, Niall picked for us. It isn´t long after Louis and Liam fall asleep on the couch and I stand up.

“Time for me to head home, guys. Goodnight” I whisper, so I don’t wake up the sleeping beauties. I walk to the front door and put my shoes on.

“Care, if I take you home? Don’t like the feeling of you going all alone by tube at this hour” Harrys asks behind me and I look at him sceptical. He wants to take me home? Since when is he so concerned about my wellbeing?

“I know the way home; I have walked it so many times from here. I´ll be fine. Thanks for the offer” I reject him and grab my coat. He helps me by holding it up, so I can easily slide my arms in the sleeves. As I open the front door, I freeze. Oh no. It is pouring outside and a very cold breeze is hitting my face. I have no umbrella and no hood, nothing. I will be soaked before I have even walked out of the gate.

“Sure, you don´t want to take my offer?” Harry asks again and I look at him again. His green eyes stare into mine and my heart skips a beat. Wait, what? Why is my heart skipping a beat when Harry looks me in the eye?

“I guess I´ll take it then” I answer and he smiles happily, slipping on his boots and grabbing his coat and an umbrella to escort me to his car. As I sit in the passenger’s seat, I look around and scan my surroundings, as I never have been in his car before. It´s all black and very modern. I breathe in, to see, if the car smells new but all I smell is the familiar smell of fire and an expensive after shave or perfume. It smells like Harry. Wait, why do I know how he smells? What kind of freak am I?

Harry gets in the driver´s seat and starts the engine. He smiles and turns down the volume of the radio. As he sits a few seconds, his smell hits me fully. I try not to breathe in too obviously but I really really like his smell.

He drives safely and relaxed and taps his finger on the steering wheel to the beat of the music. He is a musician with his whole heart, even Lou is not as much into music as him. The awkward silence is interrupted by him asking:

“Are you coming to our last performance in a week?” I look at him from the side, seeing the straight line of his nose, his jawline and the light stubble on his cheeks. His long lashes, framing his green eyes. His really beautiful green eyes.

“Yeah, sure. Wouldn’t miss Lou´s last performance with the band. Why you asking? Don’t want me to come?” I return the question and he looks at me, before returning his eyes to the street.

“No, why would you think that? Of course, I want you to come” he sounds a bit offended and I lough dryly.

“Why do I think that? Because you have been nothing but a jerk when I am around” I explain to him and he hits the break, so hard that I am hurled forward into the seatbelt. He parks the car on the side of the street and turns the engine off. We aren’t even near my home. Oh no, what did I just do? I am really not in the mood for a fight with Harry.

“I am sorry, if that is what you think about me. I thought I was being funny around you, I wanted you to like me. I am sorry, I don’t dislike you at all, Y/N” he says and I look at his beautiful face. He is hands down, the most attractive guy, I have ever seen in my life. But I never told Lou about this, I knew he would make fun of me. If he had been nicer to me in the past, I would probably have fallen for him. Very hard. It helped, that he was a jerk.

“Oh…I, well...I don’t know what to say” I stammer and blush. He likes me? He really does? Shit.

“I hope you accept my apology” he says and I nod slowly.

“Y-Yeah, sure. I accept your apology but I would prefer you being yourself around me, not some douchebag I want to kick in his ass” I answer and he smiles, showing me his dimples. For god´s sake, how can a man be so beautiful?

“I think I can manage that. But I have to warn you, I am quite a gentleman if I don’t try to impress a beautiful girl with being funny” he says and winks at me. Holy fuck, he thinks I´m beautiful. The laugh that escapes my lips sounds nervous, I can hear it.

“That’s okay, I think. Gentleman is way better than jerk…so…you actually like me? I am so confused right now” I confess and look down at my nails. Could get a manicure soon.

“Yes, of course. You are so nice and funny to be around, how could I even not like you. This is so weird…you thinking I didn’t like you. It´s so far from the truth” his smile is nearly from ear to ear now. What is he saying? I am absolutely confused and unsure how to react and as he touches my hand with his, I just jump back as far as I can in the car seat. He bites his bottom lip and starts the engine again. Without another word he takes me home safely.

A week later

I spray some of my favourite perfume on my wrist as I finish my look for the night. It is the day of One Directions last performance. I am so happy for the boys, to finally end this. They were so unhappy with their management and when Zayn left, they decided very quick to take a break and let it rest for some years. Of course, their fans were shocked, but I know how hard this decision was for each member of the band. But this time in five years, they all finally thought of themselves first. Their health, their time and their life in the spotlight. They all just want some peace. I sigh and swipe my hands over my dress. It is simple, black, no cleavage or anything. It is like me. Simple and plain.

I get there nearly too late because of the tube. We were stuck in a tunnel for nearly 20 minutes and I just arrive in time to get to my seat next to the boys´ families.

“Hey, good to see you, Y/N” Jo says and hugs me tight. I greet the other Tomlinson´s and take my seat next to a gorgeous blonde woman.

“Gemma, Anne have you met Y/N before? She is Louis´ childhood friend” Jo says to the blonde girl next to me and the woman behind her. They both are gorgeous and smile at me friendly.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I am Harrys mum Anne and this is my daughter Gemma” Anne says and I shake her hand. Gemma looks just like Harry, when she smiles. Same dimples, same smile. Wow.

Finally, the band is announced and when they come on stage, the fans are so loud. I nearly get deaf by the screams. Eventually they get a bit quieter and when they sing their last song, we all stand on our feet, swaying to the words and looking up at them. I think I can say, we are all unbelievably proud of these guys. Maybe, we even cry a bit during their song and I see that Lou is moved as well. He pulls the boys into a tight hug afterwards and smiles and waves at us.

After their appearance we really don’t pay attention, but talk quietly to each other about the boy’s future and a lot more. Anne and Gemma are really nice and I like them very much.

“Are you all going to the after show party?” Gemma asks when we are finally allowed to stand up and walk around. The Fans spot the boys´ family and shout nice things. They wave back at them and I answer her question as the first one.

“I am going for sure” she smiles widely and she looks so much like Harry.

“Great, Mom won´t come so I´m gonna stick with you, if that’s alright?” she asks and I nod. I am happy she will accompany me. I think we go on really well with each other.

We all walk backstage to see, if the boys are ready to leave. It´s a big round of hugs and when I stand in front of my best friend, he smiles so wide, that I laugh at him amused.

“Honey, so glad you are here. Wouldn’t be the same without you” he says and hugs me really tight. I press my body against his, smiling like an idiot.

“I love you, Lou. Wouldn’t have missed it for anything” I say honestly and feel him pressing a gentle kiss on my cheek.

“Leave something of her, for us to hug” Niall says laughing and I hug my favourite Irish Lad.

“Seriously, it was so emotional. I´m so happy for you all” I say and I mean every word. Niall smiles at me and I kiss his cheek soundly. He is sweaty and bright red, but I really don’t care.

“Thanks, Y/N” he says and I hug the next one in line, who happens to be Liam. We smile at each other and I kiss his cheek. We are not as close, as Niall and I but I like him. He is a nice guy and he always makes sure the boys behave properly in the public eye.

“Good to see you, love” Harry says with his deep and raspy voice, as I approach him. I can feel how Louis stares into my back, Harry never ever called me love before.

“Hi, Harry. How are you?” I ask him, as I hug him. His arms are wrapped up all around my body, it´s amazing. I can smell him and he breathes on my shoulder, so I get shivers. As I kiss his cheek, he closes his eyes for a second and I can feel him smiling.

Gemma and I drive together to the venue, where the party will be. As we enter the club, it is already really crowded and I take Gemmas hand, to not lose her. We finally find the boys and sit down next to them. They are talking with some other people and I turn my head, to see if I know someone else here. I see Louis sisters on the dancefloor. We sit there for a bit and try to have a conversation against the loud music until the boys are finished talking and join us. Harry slides in next to me on the bench and I hold my breath, as his thigh and arm touch mine.

“Hey little brother, how about getting the ladies a new drink?” Gemma asks from the right and Harry rolls his eyes at her.

“Yea, I´ll take another one, too” Niall and Lou say and Harry sighs.

“I´m coming with you, to help” I suggest to him and he doesn’t look as annoyed as before. He stands up and holds his hand in my direction, so help me up. I take it in my hand and follow him. As he orders, a man approaches me and looks at me knowingly. What is happening?

“Fancy a drink? You look like you could need one” he says and glides between Harry and me.

“Thanks, no. I´m fine” I answer and smile at him. His hand rests on my hip and I try to take a step back, but it is too crowded.

“Well, maybe you want to join me in my private booth up there. We could have some fun…together” he smiles slimy at me. I shudder in disgust. He is attractive but how fast can someone be unattractive just of their behaviour.

“No, thanks” I answer, no longer smiling. Harry, who was in a discussion with the barkeeper finally turns in my direction and looks confused at where I was standing before.

“Come on, this dress would be very nice on the floor of this club…I´ll pay all your drinks if you join me” he mumbles and comes closer. I try to push him away from me, as I meet Harrys eyes. He has this little wrinkle on his forehead, that usually pops up, when he thinks or is angry, and combs his long locks with his hand.

“Under no circumstances” I scowl and feel, how he presses his body onto mine. I shudder and pull at his hands on my back, very near my ass.

“Hey, you touching my girl?” Harry says and his voice is deep and more like an angry growl. His girl? The man turns around and is met by Harrys glowing eyes. Harry is nearly a head taller than him and stares him down. He immediately puts his hands up and apologizes to Harry.

“Sorry, mate. Didn’t know she was taken. No offense, sorry” he says and I let my breath out.

“How about apologizing to the lady, you harassed?” Harry asks and the guy stammers an apology, before he takes off into the crowd.

“Thank you” I say from the bottom of my heart. The barkeeper puts the first drinks on the bar and I slide a bit closer to Harry. Just in case.

“Sorry guys, I need to get a new bottle of Gin. Be right back” the barkeeper says and disappears. I am pushed from some ladies behind me and stumble against Harrys arm.

“Sorry, I was pushed” I say and shoot him an apologetic look. He just smiles and pulls me right in front of him. I am now encircled by him and the bar. I smell his cologne and the fire from his home and look up at his face. His piercing eyes wander over my face and I can´t hold it back.

“Your girl, huh?” I ask and a smile darts over his lips. I shake my head and can´t look away from him.

“Had to say something, was the best that came to my mind” he answers and shrugs his shoulders. He has left is jacket at the table and I can now see the tattoos on his toned chest, as his black blouse is opened quite a bit.

“What is this that, by the way?” I ask and touch his thigh in this bright red suit pants with an all-over flower print.

“You don’t like it? I think it´s great” he answers and shows me his thigh. I laugh and shake my head.

“Well it will definitely be remembered. Flower boy” he laughs and I hear the barkeeper say:

“Here you go” Harry grabs some of the drinks and winks at me. I follow him with the other drinks and hand them to Gemma, Lou and Liam. Harry has mine and gives it to me. We salute each other to the hiatus and a lot of free time.

Later that night, I am just a little bit tipsy, instead of Louis who already went home two hours ago, I find myself outside the venue to catch a bit of fresh air. Unbelievable how fast the last five years have passed. I am thinking of leaving soon as well, because it is really tiring to be with so many people. I danced with literally everyone in this club and my feet really hurt. I sigh and see the white cloud forming from my breath.

“Cold, huh?” I hear a familiar voice and turn around to face Harry. He´s wearing his flower suit jacket and smirks at me.

“Leaving already?” I ask him and he shakes his head.

“No, I was looking for you” he answers and I turn a light shade of red.

“You getting now overprotective since we spoke last week?” I smile and he sighs.

“Told you, I´m a gentleman” he says and I nod. He is right, he definitely behaved this night like a gentleman and if he keeps being so nice to me…I will be head over heels for him in no time. Oh god, this is going to be really hard.

“What are you staring at?” he asks and touches his face confused. I shake my head and press my lips together. I am really cold, considering I have no jacket.

“Nothing. I´m going to grab my things, I guess” I say and move past him. He follows me back inside and in the little corridor he grabs my hand. I look at him confused, as I look into his green eyes.

“Come with me, Y/N” he says very simply and I am even more confused.

“With you? Where? Why?” I ask and watch how his hand entwines our fingers. What the fuck is happening?

“Just with me, because…I have absolutely fallen for you” he says and I open my mouth in shock. What? Harry Styles is in love with me? How? I mean…what? My brain is sending error signals and I can´t even form a normal word.

“Please say something” he begs me and comes closer. His eyes seem insecure and scared.

“I don’t know what…I´m…I…” I stammer very intelligent and he laughs quietly.

“I am in love with you, Y/N. Do you feel the same? Can you love me?” he asks and I think about his words. I am not yet in love with him, but I have a crush on him, definitely. If I can love him in the future…guess we will see. I smile at him and nod.

“I think that could happen, yes” I answer and he beams happily at me, cupping my cheek with his warm and soft hand. He leans in and as his soft lips touch mine, I know this will be a tough but great journey. Being with Harry. It is a soft and tender kiss, completely different as what I expected from a Rockstar but afterwards, he smiles and leans his forehead on mine.

“Shall we?” he whispers and his eyes sparkle happily. I swear, I have never seen such mesmerizing green eyes.

“We shall” I answer and smile back, as we finally leave the venue, hand in hand.

  _____________________________________

So, this is my first one on here, I hope you like it and don´t be too harsh on me. Feedback is gladly appreciated!

Love, xx

[bouwrites]

Even Heroes Have the Right to Dream: Chapter 6

Just put off another day of knowing where you’re from.

First, Previous, Next. Ao3.

Story under read-more.

A lot happens during Jon’s second semester of college. Like, too much, frankly. Between his fight (can he call that a fight?) with Marinette, his struggling grades, his tense relationship with Damian, and the ever-present “S” looming over him no matter how much he tries to avoid it, his second semester isn’t nearly as fun as the first.

And also, he forgets about the thing he is supposed to do that semester. That is, to figure out what on Earth he’s going to do with his life. Being an undecided major isn’t the end of the world if he’s still in his first year, but he goes from “I’ve got plenty of time to figure it out” to “Holy crap, I’ve already finished a year” in no time at all and now he’s signed up for classes for his next semester and still doesn’t even know what he’s going to study.

He’s running out of core classes to waste time on. He’s probably already wasted a few credits and all the money that goes into them. If he wants to graduate on time, then he needs to get his life in order.

Easier said than done. Especially given… well… his life.

And if he’s honest, being home isn’t helping much. Or any. If anything, it’s just stressing him out.

There is peace in his chores. When he goes out to work on the farm, he’s focused, and he knows what he’s doing, and it feels worthwhile. He’s helping in a completely ordinary way. He’s taking some of the burden of the work off his parents.

And with his dad flying away every other night, his mom needs the help. Jon likes to help. The problem is when there’s no more work to do. Because when there’s no more work to do, there’s nothing to do, and all Jon can do is sit in his room, stare at a book, or a screen, and wait until there is something else to do.

What happened to little me who’d rush through chores just to run off and do something fun? Jon thinks, balancing his bookmark on his nose. Now I draw them out as long as I can, and I have nowhere to run to if I wanted. Where did I used to go?

His mind wanders to the batcave, and to his base with Damian when they started their little team, and he sighs. Right. Hero work. Was that all I could think about back then? Why can’t I- Why does it hurt to think about now?

Jon tosses his bookmark back between the pages in his hands and sets his book aside. He doesn’t want to be a hero. The thought of actually putting the cape back on again makes him feel ill, and when he thinks about facing once more some of the things he’s already beaten, he freezes. It’s like he runs headfirst straight into a brick wall and he’s thrown back, out of breath, aching, and powerless.

So, he opens his window and jumps out like any normal human being, walks a while out onto the flat farmland, and finds one of the sparse trees dotting the landscape. He climbs up into it, consciously avoiding use of flight to make the effort easier, feeling the rough bark on his palms, smelling the earth and wood and the dust and hay, hearing the night bugs singing to each other, and takes a seat on long branch outstretched like a hand.

Directly above him is the tree’s canopy, of course, but forward is the horizon. The land is flat, with only the occasional far-distant farmhouse interrupting it. Behind him, in the distance, if he looks closely, he can see Metropolis, but ahead of him the world stretches until it meets the sky and the dotted farmhouses turn into a multitude of stars, and then there’s a whole galaxy right in front of him.

A galaxy ahead of him, and Jon doesn’t know what to do. He feels so small. Just a kid in a tree in the infinite vastness of space. He can fly anywhere, do anything, and yet… he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t know what he wants. All he knows is that it isn’t to go “up, up, and away.”

If every star is some future him that he can become, if every star is an opportunity, which one does he take? Can he fly away with Aquila? Can he grab the handle of the big dipper? Learn to hunt from Orion or play something beautiful with Lyra?

“Heh…” He chuckles, almost huffing. “Ridiculous.”

Idle fantasies are all that is. It’s nice, to think he has so many options, to think he can do anything he dreams. But dreams are dreams and reality is reality. People don’t have those infinite chances, and he’s no different. He just doesn’t want to squander the chances that he does have. Quite frankly, those much more limited chances are already too many for him to process. So how is he supposed to just go out and pick something?

He’s been Superboy his whole life, or all his life that matters, at least. How is he supposed to figure out what he wants to do, if he doesn’t even know who he is? Jon doesn’t know. He doesn’t know much of anything except for that Aquila is way too far above him to ever reach.

Jon is twenty years old. He’s been on this planet for twenty years. Half his life he’s had two names. One devoted to protecting the people of Earth, and one devoted to protecting the other name. Without Superboy he doesn’t have purpose, but… Jon feels the wood of the tree strain under his grip, and it’s only his long, long years of mastering his control that stops him from destroying the branch entirely and sending him plummeting to the ground. He’s not even ten feet up and he’s literally invulnerable, but that drop scares him.

It reminds him of every far worse fall he’s taken, and it reminds him that no one is there to catch him anymore. No one else is on this path he’s started down. No one else is walking away from Perseus. Most people are trying to sail towards it. Most especially his parents.

Well, no one except for Marinette. At least she knows where she wants to end up. She’s running towards another constellation; Jon is simply running away. It makes his eyes sting, like the dust has finally gotten to them, and he ducks his head despite knowing he’ll never spot his next constellation if he can’t look up.

“Am I a coward?” Jon asks. He’s again in a place he doesn’t belong. He’s underdressed and unprepared but he’s here because he doesn’t know where he’s running and Damian has… well if nothing else, he has a very clear outlook on the world. Perhaps not the best, or healthiest, but it’s stark and defined and solid. And Jon is tired of falling. “Because I can’t be a hero? Does stepping down make me a… scared, selfish…”

“Not at all.”

Jon blinks, taken aback. “Wh- really?”

Damian quirks his brow, giving him a precious glance away from whatever is going on on the computer screen. “Did you want me to say yes?”

Jon runs his hands through his hair. “I’m- I don’t want you to tell me what you think I want to hear! I want to hear what you really think. Am I a coward for quitting being a hero?”

“No.” Damian says. “And I won’t repeat myself a third time.” Jon stares at him, baffled by how Damian freaking Wayne can sit there so casually telling him he’s not a coward as if quitting hero duty doesn’t go against everything the man stands for. Damian, who earlier this very year chastised him for not answering the call of duty when he’s not even on duty, who for their entire lives has been dragging Jon around the world on missions to save it, does not think Jon is chickening out when that’s pretty much objectively what Jon’s doing.

Because it is. Jon is just too scared to fight. He’s not dumb, he knows what panic is. Lord knows he’s felt it enough. He’s a nearly invulnerable alien with a whole menagerie of deus ex machina powers and he’s frightened to death of a mugger attacking a stranger. Jon has no idea how on Earth Damian can come to a different conclusion.

Damian sighs. He rubs at his eyes in an unexpectedly tired motion and pulls off his mask. “Jon, you know I am not… the best with things like this.”

Yeah, you don’t say. Jon bites his tongue to stop from saying what pops into his mind. It’s mean, and he doesn’t want to lash out just because he’s upset about his own problems that don’t have anything to do with his friend. He knows it’s still hard for Damian to admit his flaws, so rubbing it in when he does isn’t what a good friend would do.

“So, I will say it simply. From what you have told me, I believe your childhood of fighting as a hero has traumatized you, and it is simply logical that you are unable to continue. I do not blame you at all for stepping down.”

Jon hugs himself. “Why, though? You’ve been in worse situations for longer than me, and you’ve done almost everything I have on top of it, and you don’t even have powers. And- And I was fine until a little while ago! Why can’t I… be brave enough?”

Damian frowns. “I… am confused. I was under the impression that you are happy with your decision to retire. Do you want to be Superboy again?”

“No!” The way Jon yells is perhaps a bit too desperate, but he just reacts. “God, no! I just… I keep thinking about all the people that I could be saving if I was, and I think about how sitting on my thumbs like I am is hurting those people, and then I think I’m a bad person because I didn’t help someone when I could have and it’s all just pointless suffering because I don’t even know how to not… hero. And I’m selfish because I still don’t want to be a hero again, and I’m worthless because I don’t even know what I’m doing and that’s just ending up with me doing nothing, and I’m-”

“Jon!” Jon flinches away from the voice, reacting to the stern authority it holds and shutting his mouth. “You are none of those things, Jon.” Damian says firmly. Jon just watches timidly as he sighs, crosses his arms, closes his eyes, and leans back in his chair. “Look.” Damian finally sighs. “You are one of the most brilliant people I have ever met. One of the few people I am truly honored to call a friend. It does not matter if you’re Superboy or not. That does not change your worth.��

Damian stands to approach Jon. All he does is put his hands on Jon’s shoulders, but that’s more than Jon expects. It settles some of the excitement in his gut. “No one reacts to trauma the same way. In my family, punching criminals is a coping mechanism, because we all have our own baggage we came into this life with. Your family isn’t mine, and you are not me. You retired, and you felt safe, so you began to process all the trauma you could not before then. That is why you panic, like you just did, when you contemplate coming back. That’s why you can’t be Superboy, and thus cannot be called a coward for not doing so. Understand?”

Jon nods numbly. Damian makes sense. He usually does. When he doesn’t have his head up his own butt, but that’s been getting less and less common as they get older.

“You are a good person, Jon. Insufferably so, sometimes. No matter what else, don’t doubt that.”

“I…” Jon isn’t sure what to say. This is pretty much the exact opposite of what he expects from Damian. But… Lord. He wraps his arms tight around Damian. “Thank you.”

“Gah- Hey! Unhand me!”

Jon giggles, squeezes him just a little tighter, and lets him go. “Thanks.” Jon says again. “I really needed to hear that.”

Damian tuts derisively. “Yes, well… you’re welcome. Are you feeling better?”

“A little.” Jon says honestly. “I still need to figure out what I’m going to do, but I’m… a little more confident that I’m doing the right thing.”

“Why did you not think so? Out of guilt?”

“Partly.” Jon rubs his arms awkwardly. “Partly because it still just… it’s all confusing. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I’m not just talking about my major. I don’t know basically anything. I’m trying to figure out where I want to take my life while I’m trying to figure out how to just be human and I…” He sighs. “I don’t know.”

Damian hums. “You know, I went through a lot of grief reconciling being the son of batman as well as being an al Ghul.”

Jon frowns. “Yeah. And?”

“And when I first came here, I tried to do batman’s thing, in the only way I knew how. The way my mother taught me. Father had to teach me how to be a hero in his way, molded after him and my brothers in their time as Robin.”

“Is there… a lesson here?”

Damian sighs. “The lesson is that you are not human, Jon. Whether you’re a hero or not, you are still half-Kryptonian. I was trying to say that I could never be happy here so long as I kept fighting so hard to reject the fact that I am an al Ghul. Yes, I obviously had to reject the House of al Ghul, but to pretend I was never part of it would be to pretend my entire childhood is not what it was. I will never be ‘normal’ as most people consider it. You won’t either. Your father became Superman in part because he could not stand to hide among humans. You face the same problem, hero or no.”

Jon huffs. “Well, I can’t be a hero and I can’t be normal, so what the hell am I?”

Damian rolls his eyes. “You’re Jon Kent. I don’t have the answers for you. I simply told you what I think.” He sighs. “I wish I could help, but I can’t tell you what to do with your life. We both know that would end disastrously.”

“Aha, yeah. That would be a mess.”

Jon spies a rare smile from Damian. “I do want the best for you. That is why I’m telling you this. Don’t hang your hopes on the common idea of normal. It necessarily excludes people like us. Find something you’re happy with and make that your normal.”

Jon takes a moment to contemplate that. Realistically, he knows Damian is right. No one’s normal includes hiding superpowers and an alien heritage and a heroic past. The very idea that half-Kryptonian Jon can be normal is, at its very core, laughable.

Yet… there was a point in time that he felt that way. When he felt like he could do it. Live an average life despite everything. That was… when he was close with Marinette. And Jon still isn’t sure how much of that was chemistry between them as friends, or just Marinette’s personality making him feel at home, or him just throwing all his hopes on her and needing it to work so badly that he tricked himself into making it work, but… he definitely knows how he felt. So, it is possible. Yet, Jon feels like it wouldn’t have been had he lived with anyone but Marinette, so maybe it only was possible then because neither of them are actually normal in the first place. Maybe them finding normal is only because they aren’t.

And now Jon’s head is starting to hurt. Still, “I think you’re probably right.” He says to Damian. “I’ve got a lot of thinking to do.”

Damian nods shortly to acknowledge and dismiss him.

Before Jon leaves, though, he stops to look back at Damian. “You’ve really grown up, you know.”

Damian clicks his tongue. He’s already back on the computer, clacking away at the keys. “I’m twenty-three years old now. I should hope so.”

Jon snickers and turns away. That’s fair. I guess we’re all growing up.

Jon can’t be a hero and he can’t be normal. He can be happy, though. He may have only brushed hands with it so far, but he can. When Jon heads out to sit in a tree just a few days before he needs to leave once more for college, Jon has hope. Hope for the future, for a future in which he’s content and safe and, to an extent, normal.

The only problem is that he still can’t quite picture it. He still doesn’t know exactly how to get there, or even in which direction he should go. And he still has no idea what he should major in. And that’s… kind of annoying.

You have plenty of time, Jon thinks, sarcastically, not like you’ve wasted your entire year not figuring it out or anything.

What do I even want to do? I always assumed I’d be a journalist. I’m not against it, but what if there’s something else I’d like more? What if I choose wrong? And even if I do become a journalist, should I study it in college, or should I pick something else like I planned from the start?

Will I stay sane in three years of psychology classes?

Yeah, no, probably not. I could take ethics and lecture dad. That’d be funny. Lot of work for a joke, though.

Or I coul-

“Jon? Is that you? You know, I didn’t take you for the brooding type.”

Jon just about falls out of his tree when he jumps and tries to spin around to see who found him here in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night. “Aunt Kara!” He whines. “Don’t sneak up on me like that! How did you even know I was here?”

Supergirl snickers. “I can read your mind, remember? And you think very loudly.”

Jon just crosses his arms, pouting. He knows his cheeks color at the reminder of how she used to tease him, which only makes him more embarrassed because he knows that’s the reaction she wants. “That’s not funny, Aunt Kara.”

Shrugging, she says, “I thought it was. Nah, your friend told me you’d be here. Brooding.”

Goddamn it, Damian. “How did he- no, wait, he’s Damian. Never mind.” Jon sighs. “Not that I’m not happy to see you… in the middle of the night… do Mom and Dad even know you’re here?”

“I don’t need their permission to see my nephew!”

“You’re on their property.”

“I’m above their property.” Supergirl grins, gesturing to her feet, which are a good five feet off the ground.

Jon shakes his head. “Whatever. Why are you here?”

Supergirl laughs. “Aw, is that any way to talk to your favorite aunt?” Jon just rolls his eyes. After a moment, Supergirl sobers, her expression softens, and she asks, “Mind if I join you?”

Jon purses his lips and moves over a little, allowing Supergirl to sit next to him on the branch. They’re squished together, and Supergirl throws her arm around his shoulders, but Jon doesn’t honestly mind. She likes to tease him, but she is his aunt. He loves her.

“So, want to tell me why you’re out here instead of sleeping?”

“Why?” Jon counters. “Damian’s already told you.”

She tilts her head in non-committal gesture. “Maybe, maybe not. I don’t care what he says. I want you to tell me. What’s up?”

Jon sighs. “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t know anything. That’s the problem. I’m starting second year – I really need to figure out what I’m going to study – and recently I’ve been doubting I even want to- er, never mind.”

Supergirl’s gaze pierces into him. As much as he loves her, and as fun of an aunt she can be, it’s always been obvious to Jon that she’s the most… alien of them. It makes sense, considering she actually remembers Krypton, but even so there are times when she can be downright unsettling. It makes him feel… vulnerable. Like she can see every facet of him. It’s doubly unsettling, he finds, when he can’t even see his own facets. “Everyone wonders what they’re going to do with their lives.” Supergirl says gently. “College isn’t the end of the road. A lot of people don’t find their calling until much later in their lives.”

Jon tugs at his hair. “Yeah, that’s a nice thought and all, but I still need to pick a major.”

Supergirl snorts. “Alright. Fair, then. You’ve got to make a choice. What do you want to do? Throw some ideas out, let’s spitball. It’s a longstanding family tradition to go into journalism. How do you feel about that?”

Jon flinches. “Lukewarm.”

Supergirl laughs again. “Alright. How about, uh photography?”

“I’ve got a pretty steady hand?” Jon shrugs.

“Hm. Analytics?”

“Hard yikes.”

“You’re a tough nut, aren’t you? Alright, how about… graphics design?”

“Do you actually not know any jobs except what goes into the news?”

Supergirl scoffs playfully. “Are you mocking me? My favorite nephew, being so mean to me when I’m only trying to help!” Jon has to spend a moment fighting off her playful shoving and trying his best to not fall out of the tree, but by the time she relents, he’s out of breath from laughing and his cheeks hurt.

And that’s why he loves Aunt Kara. She can always cheer him up. She’s always been strangely good at that. No matter what kind of mood he’s in, she always manages to bring him out of his shell. She makes him feel… not like himself, but like he can be himself. Like it’s safe to be anything he wants, and she won’t judge him.

Maybe it’s just because she can be a bit weird herself sometimes.

“Hey.” She leans in close to him, like she’s sharing a secret. “Want to get out of here?”

“And go where?”

“On a… field trip.” She says. “Come on.”

“I don’t know, Aunt Kara. We should probably tell Mom and Dad if we’re going somewhere.”

“Pssh, they won’t know we left! Besides, you’re with me! Nothing can happen to you while I’m here. Also, uh, you’re twenty now, Jon. You don’t need their permission to go out.”

“It’s not about permission. I’m still living with them.” Jon protests. “It’s just courtesy, so they don’t worry.”

Supergirl rolls her eyes. “We’ll write them a note. Come on.”

Jon sighs. “Alright. Where are we going, though?”

Supergirl winks conspiratorially. “You’ll see.”

They quickly write a note (even though Aunt Kara insists they’ll be back before his parents wake up – which Jon hopes is true, because he does want to sleep tonight) and take off, Supergirl in her cape and him in pajama pants and a flannel shirt. And he knows where they’re going. He figures it out when they don’t stop at any sensible place to do so. The Fortress of Solitude.

“Here we are!” Supergirl chirps. “This is a much better place to brood!”

Jon’s laugh is almost helpless as he covers his face. He thought going into the batcave was weird after he retired. This? The Fortress? It’s too much.

Jon knows the Fortress of Solitude. He’s used it as a base when he was Superboy just like Aunt Kara and his dad does. When he peeks around at the alien architecture and almost magical technology, all Jon can think about is the damn “S.” It doesn’t help that it’s plastered all over the place, either.

When he walks into the Fortress of Solitude, Jon looks up at the statues of his grandparents, flinches at the burn of that “S” on their chests being branded into his skull, and feels like a failure.

When he sits in a tree and watches the stars on the horizon, he feels small in a cosmic sense. It puts him into perspective on a grand scale, and things are a little easier to think about because ultimately it doesn’t weigh all that much. When he looks up at the statue of the grandparents he’ll never know, he’s also put into perspective, just not as a speck in the infinite vastness of the universe.

No, under their eyes, he’s, in essence, the heir of Krypton.

An entire world destroyed. Two survivors. One goes on to have a son. And then that son does everything he can to be as human as possible. How must he devastate these people? This world whose culture and traditions will probably die with Aunt Kara?

A part of Jon wants to carry that burden, too. To carry on Krypton and live for them. But Jon has lived his life for other people up until this point and because of that, now he’s lost. He can’t carry a world on his shoulders. He hates that that means that his aunt has to do so for him, but he can’t. He’s not that strong.

Being in the Fortress is too much for him. Already he feels like it’s crushing him. How can he carry such a weight? How can he carry Krypton, when he doesn’t know anything about it? He’s never been there, never experienced it. He doesn’t even have a Kryptonian name! Being human is already complicated enough. Jon can’t be Kryptonian on top of that.

He’s starting to think he knows how Atlas feels.

“Are you okay, Jon?”

Jon shakes his head. His throat is tight and clogged and he can’t seem to clear it. It takes him some time to manage to ask, “Why’d you bring me here?”

“Because I know what you’re afraid of.” Supergirl says plainly. “Kal and I both went through the same thing. Listen, Jon.” She takes his hands in hers, and he lifts his eyes to meet hers. “You are at a point in your life where you’re trying to decide your whole future. What you’ll take with you, what you’ll leave behind, what path you want to follow.

“Damian told me that he’s worried you’re rejecting part of yourself. The Kryptonian part. He said that you want to be completely human.”

Jon turns his gaze back to the ground. “That’s… partly true. I just want to live like an ordinary person. I don’t want any of…” He sighs. “this.”

“I know.”

“I- you do?” Jon furrows his brow. If he’s honest, he expects Aunt Kara to be angry with him. Krypton is very important to her, so to admit that he’s trying to distance himself from it even so long after it’s death must hurt.

“Of course, I do, kiddo. I live on Earth, too. Earth is my home, too. I know what it’s like to want to fit in.”

Yeah. Jon supposes she would.

“And I want to help you.” Supergirl says, firmer. “You’re having trouble making a decision, right? So, you’re going to make one. Here. That’s the real reason I brought you here. Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”

Supergirl guides him by the hand into another room. She opens a box, almost reverently, and pulls out a large flag. There’s a planet in the middle, blue and green like Earth, but the land masses are different (Jon at least knows enough to recognize it as Krypton) with rays of color filling the rest of the flag. It’s Krypton, in a rainbow halo, sort of. “Do you know what this is?” Supergirl asks.

Jon does. “The Kryptonian flag.”

Supergirl gives him a smile. “Do you know what it represents?”

“Krypton?” Jon purses his lips.

She chuckles. “Essentially, yes. The design of the flag was chosen to represent the Girod.”

“The eleven virtues.” Jon says.

“Exactly! Do you remember what they are?”

Jon again averts his gaze.

“It’s alright, Jon.”

“I’m sorry. I feel like I should know more about Krypton.”

“Do you want to?” Supergirl asks the question so casually that Jon is a little thrown off. “Because that’s the decision I want you to make tonight.” Her tone gets more serious again, making Jon wince. “The Girod is the foundation of Kryptonian society. This,” she indicates the flag, “is what it means to be Kryptonian.

“Diversity coming from unity. In the center, that’s Unity. The three green rays are the core virtues. From lightest to darkest in color, Truth, Industriousness, and Justice. Peace, Synergy, Imagination, Purity, Restraint, Hope, Altruism.”

Jon’s cheeks warm, because he feels like a little kid all over again with Aunt Kara explaining the Girod to him. His knowledge of Krypton is limited, and indeed this very subject is one he’s been taught and forgotten, but he knows this is quite literally one of the first things Kryptonian kids would learn. It’s the core of their whole society.

“Damian is worried that if you turn your back on Krypton, you won’t ever be happy, but he doesn’t know what it’s like to have millions of years of culture, technology, family, meaning… whole civilizations wiped out. We’re all that remains of Krypton. I can’t change your DNA. You can’t be totally human. But, I can tell you this: Krypton is not your burden to carry. It’s dead.” Supergirl closes her eyes, and Jon has a sinking feeling she’s trying not to cry. After a moment, she pats the flag gently. “If you don’t want this, we’re not going to make you take it. Okay? If you want to live your life like a human, then that’s okay. I will never try to force you to carry on Krypton’s legacy.”

Jon stares at the flag in Supergirl’s lap. Eleven virtues, each one more impossible to achieve than the last. Did Krypton really achieve this, or is this just an ideal? Because… “That’s a lot to live up to.”

“I know. It’s not easy, and you won’t be perfect, but whatever you choose, whether you want to be human or if you want to be Kryptonian, or both, I’m proud of you. You’ve grown up into such a brave young man, and I can honestly say that you are one of the best people I know. By both human and Kryptonian standards.”

“A-Aunt Kara, I…”

“I know this doesn’t help you decide what career you want to go into or what you want to study,” Supergirl says, lowering her head to look at the flag, “but I felt it was important for you to know. You are not responsible for Krypton. Kal and I are not going to stop you from living however you want. You know Krypton is very important to me, but you know what’s more important?”

“…What?” Jon has a sneaking suspicion he knows exactly what.

“You. I still honor where I came from, and I do my best to keep our culture and traditions alive, but Krypton is dead. It’s our heritage, and it’s important to me, but it’s not a big deal if it isn’t to you. I promise. You’ve never even seen it. I wouldn’t blame you if you can’t connect to it. Human culture is much more… relevant. Even for me.” She watches him with that piercing, alien gaze again. “Right now, you’re deciding where you want your life to go. I want to tell you that if you don’t want it to include Krypton, it doesn’t have to. You’re not obligated to try to preserve it. And neither Kal nor I will judge you for it.”

Jon chuckles nervously. “You sure about Dad?”

Supergirl giggles. “I promise. We all just want you to be happy. You’re far more important than a dead culture.”

“I… I…” Jon chokes down his emotions again, and just goes for a hug instead of trying to explain. “Thank you.”

Supergirl’s hug is crushing, as always. It’s familiar, completely inhuman, and remarkably comforting. When she does let him go, though, she asks, “So, what’s your decision?”

“My decision…” Jon’s throat goes dry. “About whether I’m Kryptonian or not?” Supergirl inclines her head. Jon sighs. He looks again to the flag in her lap. “Diversity from unity. It sounds like a… beautiful ideal.”

“It was beautiful.” Supergirl says softly.

Jon closes his eyes. This is his get out of jail free card. All the pressure of his Kryptonian heritage shed just like that. With one decision. No judgement, no punishment. And somewhere inside him, Jon really does resent the Kryptonian part of him. It’s what makes him different. It’s what means he’ll never be normal. It’s what gives him the ability that curses his fear and unwillingness, and brands him evil by neglect.

But him being Kryptonian can’t change. Damian’s right. Rejecting Krypton won’t make him any more human. His DNA is beyond anyone’s ability to simply rewrite. Embracing it, though? Carrying the weight of Krypton’s culture, of its people, like Atlas holding the heavens? How is that better?

“Diversity from unity.” Jon thinks. Maybe that’s how. It’s Marinette. It’s being together, finding their normal, not because they’re regular people through and through, but because of their differences. It’s what makes them unique that makes them belong, not what makes them the same.

Jon isn’t entirely sure he buys that, but it’s… such a beautiful ideal. He hopes for it. If nothing else, it’s a direction. Something to strive for. “Can I…” He says, hesitantly, as his answer, “keep that?”

Supergirl’s eyes follow his finger, and her lips twitch upwards into a smile. “Of course,” She says. Carefully, she folds up the Kryptonian flag and hands it off to him.

It’s heavier than he expects. Sort of like the cape. He doubts himself, but he wants to dream. He wants to believe the Girod is more than just an ideal.

“You know, Kal never gave you a Kryptonian name, did he?” Supergirl says suddenly, startling Jon.

“O-oh, uh, no. I’m just… just Jon.”

“Jon.” Supergirl hums as she leads the way back to the main room of the Fortress. “How about Kon-El? That suits you, don’t you think?”

Jon blinks. “Kon-El? Where’d the K come from?”

“Kara! Duh!” Supergirl winks at him.

She always can make Jon laugh. “And that’s… a traditional Kryptonian way to name a kid, huh?” He teases.

“Pfft, no, that’s just because I’m awesome.” They laugh together until they come upon the statue of Jon’s grandparents and he gets lost staring at them again. He’s not sure if he can live up to their ideals. In truth, he’s not even sure how much he can do to try. “Or I could name you after your granddad, like Kal did. Jor-El. You’re still a J that way.”

Jon manages a smile for the frozen images of his grandparents. “I don’t know.”

“He’d be proud of you, you know. They both would. I know you never met them, but… they’d be proud.”

“Yeah.” Jon takes a deep breath and tears his eyes from the statues once more. “Thanks, Aunt Kara.”

——-=——-

Tag List: @moonystars14 @pawsitivelymiraculous @magic-miraculous @vixen-uchiha @buticaaba @bigpicklebananatree @lozzybowe  @moonlightstar64 @amayakans @theatreandcomicfreak @toodaloo-kangaroo @too0bsessedformyowngood <3

[flowerfan2]

Private Time - Chapter 3

Klaine, M, A03

What can I say, you inspired me to keep going - clearly we all wanted to know what happened next, including Sam :)  Hope you enjoy.

Summary:  One thing about being in quarantine with your grad school roommates... you hardly get any private time...

Chapter 3

Sam is at his desk, surfing the web for something to spice up his own private time session, when he hears Blaine and Kurt coming up the stairs.  

“Shhh…” Blaine says, laughing too hard to actually be quiet.  “They’ll know we aren’t in our rooms.”

“Aren’t they supposed to have headphones on?”  Kurt asks.

There’s a thump, and a shuffle, and Sam suddenly clues in, a thrill running through his body. It finally happened.  He knew those two were crushing on each other.

“Oh my god, that’s so good,” Blaine moans, and it sounds like he’s right outside Sam’s bedroom door. “Do it again.”

Are they just kissing? Or… more?

“I will,” Kurt says, his voice throatier than Sam has ever heard it.  “But let’s at least go inside.  My room or yours?”

“Don’t care,” Blaine responds.  “Come on.”

Holy shit, his flatmates are definitely making out – snogging – right there in the hallway. Sam is tempted to go see, but then he hears a door open and close. 

 He’s disappointed for a minute, but then clearly hears another thump and accompanying moan.  Of course, the walls in this apartment are so ridiculously thin, there’s really no privacy at all.  This has never bothered Sam, and now it seems to have an extra perk.

 He strains his ears and grins at what he hears.

 “God, Blaine, you’re so gorgeous.”

 “No, you’re gorgeous, Kurt, you are.  You’re amazing.”

 “Mmm, tell me more. If you’re so sure, give me details.”

 Wow, Kurt is demanding. No surprise.  It’s really hot.

 Sam practically holds his breath to see how Blaine will react, but he shouldn’t have worried. Blaine is completely on board.  “Your eyes are stunning, and the way you hold yourself, god, just every time you walk into a room, I can’t take my eyes off of you. And… your hair is so… so…”

 “Come on, if we’re talking about hair, you clearly win.”

 There’s an audible sigh. “My hair is a rat’s nest, and I’ve been out of gel for weeks.”

 “Your hair is fantastic. It’s so soft.”

 A low moan.  “Oh my god, Kurt, that feels great.”

 Sam imagines Kurt running his fingers through Blaine’s hair.  Whatever is going on, Kurt and Blaine are both clearly enjoying it, although Sam thinks they’re getting a little off topic.

 “I can lend you some product, you know.  It’ll help the curls keep their shape, but tame it all a little bit.  I can even give you a trim.”

 “You’d do that?”

 “Of course.  I’ve got a nice sharp scissors in my crafting kit. I’ve cut hair dozens of times.”

 There’s a pause, and Sam wonders what happened.

 “Kurt?”

 “Yeah?”

 “Maybe we can talk about my hair some other time?”

 Kurt barks out a laugh that Sam has never heard before, and then there’s silence again.

 Sam’s curiosity gets the best of him after a few minutes, and he carefully peeks out into the hallway. It’s empty, of course – Rachel is probably dutifully wearing her headphones, even if the rest of them aren’t – and so he leaves his room, crosses the hall, and slides down to the floor, his head resting against the door to Kurt’s bedroom.

 Now he can hear them even better.  Sounds like more kissing.  A little nipping, maybe.  Tugging at each other’s lips.  Nice.

 “God, I love kissing you,” Blaine says.  Sam can just imagine the look on his face.  Blaine gets so enthusiastic when he’s excited.  

 “Me too, me too,” Kurt says. “You taste so good.”

 “That’s Sam’s cherry chapstick,” Blaine says, and Sam snorts, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth. Careful, he thinks to himself.  

 “Nah, I don’t think so,” Kurt replies.  “That’s all you.”  Whatever Kurt does next must be particularly good, because he hears Blaine take a sharp intake of breath, and sigh out Kurt’s name.

 Are they still just kissing?

 “Oh god, Kurt,” Sam hears, and then the soft sound of something sliding to the floor.  A shirt?  Blaine was wearing one of his black polos, that could be it.  Or that tight button-up Kurt had on.

 Sam squirms a little, pressing his hand to his dick, over his shorts.  It’s definitely is starting to take a serious interest in the proceedings. He’s always thought he was at least a little bit bi.  This is pretty good confirmation.  

 “Blaine, look at you. God, your shoulders…”

 There’s another one of those little sharp breaths from Blaine, and Sam slides his hand under the elastic waistband of his shorts, reaching down.  

 “Your neck is sensitive, isn’t it,” Kurt murmurs.  “Don’t worry, I won’t leave a mark.”

 “Feel free,” Blaine breathes out.  “I want you to.”

 “Yeah?  Okay.”

 Sam can’t take it anymore, and wraps his hand around himself, just holding on at first.  He looks around the still empty hallway. He’s not really going to have a wank right here, is he?  Just toss one off where anyone could see?

 “That’s good, your mouth, wow…”

 “Love the way you taste here, just in this spot…”

 “That’s my, uh, collarbone, not really very interesting… ooh – wow, teeth, uh…”

 “Sorry, did I nibble too hard?”

 “No, it’s… good...  I like it.”

 “How about here?  I won’t bite this time.”

 “Ohh…”  Blaine is practically whining, and Sam starts to stroke himself.  This is better than any online porn, ever.

 “You like that?  Not every guy has sensitive nipples.”

 “Holy crap, Kurt, yeah, yeah, I like it.”

 “Want me to go harder? Mmmm, perking right up for me… you do like that… now, let me pay some attention to the other one… such pretty little nubs…”

 Blaine whines again, a high, needy sound, and Sam grabs himself tight around the base of his dick. He doesn’t want to come too soon, this is too much fun.

 “Fuck, Kurt, I need…”

 “What?”

 Blaine just moans, and Sam throbs in response.

 “How about we get these off? Gotta be getting a little tight.” He can hear the smile in Kurt’s voice. “Even tighter than normal.”

 Damn it, Kurt’s talking about those red pants Blaine likes to wear, the ones that cup his ass so well. Sam’s never understood how Blaine can wear them so snug, it’s like they’re painted on.

 “You’re one to talk,” Blaine pants out.  “I’m not the only one with tight pants.  The way your legs look in those skinny jeans, Kurt.  It should be illegal.”

 “Wanna arrest me, officer?” Kurt says, and then they both break out into breathy laughter.

 “Too much?”  Kurt asks.

 “God, I don’t know, my head is spinning so hard right now, I can’t even-” Blaine’s voice is cut off, and from the slurping sounds Sam thinks they’re probably kissing again. Seriously kissing.

 “Blaine, I don’t think it’s just your head that’s hard,” Kurt whispers.

 “That doesn’t even make sense.  But, yeah, I mean… god, I am.  So hard. You are too, right?”

 There’s some fumbling noises, and the slick sound of a belt being pulled out through its loops.  Then what could be a zipper…

 Sam’s shorts and underwear are getting in the way, so he gives it up and shoves them both down to his ankles and then shakes them off altogether.  Much better.

 “Blaine, my god, <i>look</i> at you.”

 Suddenly Sam desperately wants to look, too, and he can’t resist anymore.  He reaches up to the doorknob and ever so slowly, begging the door not to creak, he eases it open until he can just see inside.

 Blaine and Kurt are completely naked, their clothes tossed to the ground beside them.  They’re standing by the foot of the bed, facing each other.  Blaine is mostly turned towards the door, and Sam can see everything… Blaine’s dark hair is sticking up every which way, and there’s a pink flush on his chest, with red splotches around his nipples.  Oh god, Sam thinks, that’s from Kurt’s mouth, sucking and pulling on each one.  His own chest tingles, and Sam slides a hand across his pecs.  He rolls a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and bites his lip to stay quiet as he thinks about Kurt doing this to Blaine.

 Of course Sam can’t help but notice Blaine’s cock, rock hard and standing at attention.  Pretty impressive, buddy, he thinks, swallowing hard. Don’t know how you survive keeping it in those tight pants.  It’s obviously having much more fun out here in the open.

 Kurt is standing with one hip cocked, like a dancer, long and lean.  His firm butt is practically in Sam’s face.  Sam wills himself not to make a noise.  He can’t believe they haven’t noticed him opening the door, but it’s clear that Blaine and Kurt only have eyes for each other.

 “Kurt…” Blaine is practically speechless, his eyes wide, and his hands reach out towards Kurt.

 “Come here,” Kurt says, and then they’re pressing together, chest to groin.  Kurt slides his hands down Blaine’s back and Sam can tell the minute he gets his hands on Blaine’s ass and squeezes, because Blaine nearly shouts in response.

 Blaine’s got his forehead pressed against the side of Kurt’s face, apparently too worked up to continue snogging, and Kurt is breathing hard into Blaine’s ear while rhythmically grasping at Blaine’s ass.

 “Oh, oh, Kurt, I’m, Kurt-”

 Apparently not wanting it all to be over too fast, Kurt slides his hands back up Blaine’s back, easing up until there’s a little space between them.  “Hey, what do you say we take this to the bed?”

 Blaine pulls back and stares at Kurt for a long moment, until apparently he regains the ability to speak.  “Yeah, yes, good idea.”

 The two of them scramble on to the bed, Blaine shoving the duvet on to the floor (good call, their washer and dryer really can’t handle blankets, Sam has discovered this the hard way) and settle on their sides, facing each other.  Blaine is smiling so hard it looks like his face is going to split open with happiness, and Kurt has blushed a pretty pink.

 “Hi there,” Kurt says, running a single finger from Blaine’s cheek, to his shoulder, and down his arm.

 “Hi,” Blaine responds, ducking his head and then looking back up at Kurt through his long lashes. “Wanna fool around?”

 Kurt laughs, his head leaning back and exposing his slender neck.  “I thought we were.”

 Blaine giggles and leans in to Kurt, one hand going to the back of his head to bring their lips together for a long, sultry kiss.  Kurt whimpers and grabs Blaine’s shoulder, sliding closer, arms and legs wrapping around each other until it is hard to tell where one stops and the other begins.

 The kiss slows, mellowing, with more finesse than the first round.  Sam wonders what it would be like to be kissed like that, like the person kissing you wanted to discover everything about you, right down to your bones.

 “Oh god, Blaine, this is good,” Kurt says, threading his fingers through Blaine’s hair.  Blaine’s hands are moving over Kurt’s bare back, one hand slowly moving down to Kurt’s ass.

 “Mmm, yeah,” Kurt encourages, and Blaine’s hand drops lower, exploring.  When his fingers press into Kurt’s crack Kurt lets out a high pitched noise and Blaine freezes, but then Kurt shakes his head against Blaine’s face and pants into his ear.  “No, don’t stop.  Keep going, please.”

 Blaine plays with Kurt’s ass a little more, pressing and sliding a finger in, and Sam wonders if it would be too forward to find them some lube.  He’s wishing he had a little himself, although there’s enough moisture now from his own pre-come that things are going along just fine.

 Kurt is rutting hard against Blaine’s thigh now, and Blaine seems to decide that it’s time to take matters in hand, so to speak.  They shuffle around, Blaine reaching between them, and they both start to moan.  Sam barely restrains himself from joining in, his hand now moving furiously up and down his cock.

 Sam can’t see exactly what’s going on between Blaine and Kurt’s sweaty bodies, but he thinks Blaine is jerking them both, and doing a mighty fine job.  Sam puts a finger in his mouth and sucks hard, then reaches down to cup his balls, rolling them softly in his palm.

 “Kurt, come here, just like-”  Blaine slides a leg in between Kurt’s, getting Kurt’s leg up and over his hip. Kurt is lying halfway on top of him now, one knee a little bent, giving them some room between them to maneuver. One of Blaine’s hands is back to gripping Kurt’s ass, and the other is lost between them, where Kurt seems to be helping him out.

 Oh god, they’re jerking each other off, maybe both holding on to their cocks together, pressing them against each other, silk pulling over the hardness of their erections, fuck, fuck, fuck-  

 Sam moves his hand faster on his cock, adding a twist near the tip, down and up and twist and over and over again.  He shifts until he’s almost flat on the floor, his head angled so he can see still through the tiny opening into the room.  Luckily Blaine and Kurt are providing a steady narration, and are clearly getting close to the finale.

 “Blaine, that’s good, oh, fuck, yeah-”  

 “Kurt, yeah, that’s it, keep going-”

 “Oh, Blaine, please, yes-”

 “Oh fuck, come on, come on-”

 “Blaine, oh god, yeah, Blaine-”

 Their words turn into long, low moans, and then Sam feels himself coming hot and wet over his hand.

 “Oh my god, Kurt, that was amazing.”

 “Blaine… wow.  Come here.  Wow.”  Kurt hums softly, and Blaine responds in kind, both of them breathing hard as they catch their breath.

 Sam  watches as Blaine curls up against Kurt, his head on Kurt’s chest, and a dazed and happy smile on his face.  Sam can’t help smiling too.

 Sam’s cock pulses out another spurt.  His legs are numb.  He feels fantastic.  

 Private time is the best idea Rachel Berry has ever had.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

I know that sound

Remember when the issue of Runaan and Rayla vs a dragon was super briefly brought up and immediately abandoned with zero context in a TDP interview? Me either, but that totally happened. (thanks to @ladyandherbooks​ for a great conversation on the topic!)

Is it going to be in the future or has it already happened? I think it’s already happened because of this comment Rayla makes in S2E7 when Pyrrah roars in the distance.

My favorite angsty headcanon as to exactly when Rayla and Runaan faced off with a dragon is that it was when a raging, mourning Zubeia came looking for Runaan--and for Rayla--after her egg vanished and her mate was killed.

TDP has a beautiful habit of adding backstory behind dramatic events that changes the perspective of those events. We started watching this show knowing that the humans slayed Thunder. Then we learned it was in vengeance for Sarai’s death. Then we learned that she died trying to save her people from a famine. Those kinds of layers.

So I’m wondering if this moonfam vs dragon is just such an event, which will change our perspective on Rayla and Runaan’s relationship, and on why she ended up on his mission in the first place.

I don’t know whether a Storm archdragon has enough magical power to see through the Silvergrove’s enchantments, but I want the answer to be no. Because then, see, Zubeia’s got to fly around roaring and raging and shouting above the village and freaking out all the Moonshadow elves. Like, “holy crap the Dragon Queen has lost her mind, uhhh guys what to we do??” Because see, they don’t know yet. They don’t know about Harrow and Viren and Avizandum and the egg. This moment, this exchange, this is how they learn what happened.

So the elves stare skyward as Zubeia roars and zaps her way over the forest, maybe even crying Runaan’s name. Or worse, Rayla’s. There’s no way he’d let Rayla approach an enraged dragon. But he’s the leader of the assassins. This is his village, and Rayla is the daughter of his heart. Defending literally everyone who’s currently in danger is exactly Runaan’s jam. So he leaves the village and draws Zubeia’s attention a ways away, where she can’t hurt anyone, hoping to let her say her piece in um, peace.

I don’t think it went well, for several reasons. And the first of those reasons is that Rayla sneaked out after him.

The first things Zubeia would want Runaan to know are that his friends were cowards and that her egg and mate are dead. If Rayla overheard the bit about her parents, I can see her throwing caution to the wind and darting right out to say Zubeia’s totally wrong. Runaan would be intensely concerned for her safety, but he’s got to keep a hold on the situation despite his own shock and horror. A mother who’s just lost her baby could do anything she wanted, especially if she’s got teeth that are six feet long and extremely pointy. He’s just lost his two best friends, but he can’t do anything that puts Rayla’s life in more danger than it’s already in.

And maybe it is in danger. Zubeia blames all of her Dragonguard for fleeing. But Moonshadows don’t run. Maybe she already hunted down the others, and here she is, unable to find Lain and Tiadrin anywhere, desperate for revenge, and turning to their daughter. Zubeia did lose a child. How fitting, she might decide, that her traitorous guards lose theirs in return.

Runaan’s definitely not having that, though. He’d say or do just about anything to protect Rayla. And conveniently, it’s his actual job to hunt down horrible people. Maybe he offered his services to Zubeia to keep her from killing Rayla. Tried his best to direct the distraught dragon from wild revenge to a balanced justice. Maybe Runaan agreed to take Ezran’s life so he wouldn’t have to lose Rayla’s.

Rayla would be sickened, angry, horrified, and maybe just a little lost in all these horrible details, but once she heard Runaan talking about an assassination mission, she’d pick up immediately that she could find redemption by going with him. Not just in Zubeia’s eyes, but in everyone else’s. And it would placate the Dragon Queen to see Rayla acting furious and intent on fixing her parents’ mistake.

Maybe Runaan never intended for Rayla to grow up to be an assassin at all, despite her admiration for him and his honorable position in the Silvergrove. But in such a moment, with Rayla glaring up at him and Zubeia staring down at him, he felt the strings of fate pull so tightly that he had no choice but to say yes. His job is to lead and train assassins. If anyone can get a determined young Moonshadow elf ready for an assassination mission in a short period of time, it’s Runaan.

Is this why the mission took so long to start after the event that triggered it? Avizandum died at Winter’s Turn, which is like New Year’s, but Runaan’s mission set out in May. He and Rayla might’ve spent those intervening months training like crazy. But eventually, Runaan had to make the call--Zubeia’s been waiting on him, and he’s got to decide at some point that Rayla’s ready enough. 

Runaan may have negotiated with Zubeia to take Rayla with him, but only when he deemed her ready. Zubeia might not have cared much whether Rayla lived or died on the mission. But better to give Rayla a fighting chance, and a chance to redeem her family’s honor, than to refuse and risk Zubeia lashing out at her right there and then.

It’s an impossible situation, but Runaan seems to have a knack for getting into those and making hard calls. He absolutely won’t let Rayla die today, but his other options are to kill an innocent prince and to endanger his daughter while doing it. And he goes with that. He says he’ll do it, and then, because of his honor, he actually plans to do exactly that. 

Harrow would be much easier to agree to take. Harrow is the one who actually killed Avizandum. But why Ezran? That’s a demand made out of rage and grief. If Rayla’s life hadn’t been under threat at the time of Zubeia’s and Runaan’s negotiation, would Runaan have agreed to take Ezran’s life?

Maybe he would. It is a balanced solution, in a very dark and terrible way. But for a guy with his own child, it feels like a really, really dark move to agree to. Maybe he didn’t make it willingly.

If Runaan felt pressured into taking Rayla on his mission to spare her life, that adds new dimension to his theme of protecting her. He basically sacrificed himself and his whole team to save her when the mission went pear-shaped. What a ride it would be if her life was actually in danger much earlier than that.

I know this doesn’t have much connection with canon. Zubeia seemed oddly thrilled with all the humans and elves around her when she woke up. But maybe we’re missing something in her character arc as well. She got Runaan to accept the mission to take Harrow and Ezran. And then she had to wait. And wait. And her rage died out, leaving her with only her sorrow. Her broken heart was all she had left, and it began to kill her. Ibis said that she’d slipped into a coma ten days earlier, which was around the time that S3 started. That was most likely after she received Runaan’s shadowhawk, telling her that Harrow was dead, but not Ezran.

Did she think Runaan had gone back on his word? Did she tell anyone at all what his message said? That he’d failed to do what he promised?

Rrgh, was Runaan worried when he shot that shadowhawk off that Zubeia might still try to exact revenge on Rayla because he hadn’t taken Ezran? Maybe he didn’t want Rayla taking the egg back to Xadia because she’d be running directly to the dragon that threatened her, and Runaan was trying to minimize the risk to her life, again, by taking it himself.

Why did he demand the egg like he did? Is he really just that dramatic? Or was he trying to keep Rayla and Zubeia apart because Rayla had to hear what a raging dragon sounds like once, and he never wanted her to hear that sound again?

The irony will be enormous if Runaan was trying to protect Rayla from a threat that nearly died from grief between the time he left on his mission and the time Rayla reached Xadia without him. Because if his mission had gone off without a hitch, he and Rayla would’ve been home and dry before Zubeia fell into her coma. Rayla might be safe in that scenario, but Zym would be lost, and Ezran would be dead.

why are there never any clear answers i love this show

[pof203]

Rockababy Halloween (Short Story)

This is a short story for Rockababy with a few OCs. I also like to apologize in advance for turning Boomer’s housewife outfit into a costume. It was just too convenient. Also, my OC, Rosa-Maria, is not in this. This story is in case I don’t finish her story in time. Also, the end scenario is based off one of the stories from Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark.

It was a crisp Halloween morning. Brick had just gotten up and was about to get ready for school when his neighbor, Mrs. Gowan, came to him in the front of his house.

“Excuse me, Brick,” she said. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“What is it, Mrs. Gowan?”

“Well, me and my husband are going to a Halloween party at my sister’s in the next town and we can’t take our daughter, Martha, and her friends trick-or-treating.”

“What about her friends’ parents?”

“Sally’s mom has an extra shift at the hospital and Patty’s dad has a bad cold. And we can’t hire any sitters because they already have their hands full for tonight. So I thought, if you’re not too busy tonight, do you think you can take them? We’ll pay you.”

“Are you sure? You know how your husband feels about me… and Boomer.”

“True. But it was either you or ask his sister, Daniel, and she hates kids. But I convinced him. So, can you do it?”

“Well, I guess I can. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get my friends in on this.”

“I don’t see why not. I’ll bring her by later tonight before we leave. Thank you, Brick.”

With that, she leaves and Brick goes off to school.

At school, Brick tells the other Bozos as well as Richie and Ace about what his neighbor asked him.

“I think it’s sweet you want to help your neighbor,” said Boomer. “I think it would be a good idea.”

“He’s gotta point,” said Ace. “Besides, we have nothin’ better to do tonight and I don’t feel right about letting three young girls go out on their own.”

“What about that Si-Fi movie marathon on TV?” asked a disappointed Richie.

“Hey, there’s always next year,” said Shifty.

“I suppose. Besides… I think I have an idea for a costume.”

“Like what?” asked Ace.

The bell rang and Richie left for class, looking back to his friends with a smile and a wink saying, “It’s a surprise.”

Later after school, Shifty was at home with Buttons. He was looking in the mirror trying to decide what he should be for Halloween.

“You got any idea?” he asked her.

She just squeaked. This was to be her first Halloween.

“I guess I’ll try something.”

Shifty shapeshifted into some detective clothing. He was wearing a dark grey suit, a silver watch, and a gun holster under his coat. He completed the ensemble with a cigarette.

“Just like Bones, huh?”

Buttons laughed.

“But then again, Bones might be going as this. Next.”

Shifty shapeshifted into some kind of space raider. Some of the marks from his alien form would act his tattoos and had a lollipop in his mouth.

“I got the idea from one of Richie’s movies. What do ya think?”

Buttons squeaked in agreement. Then, he looked into the mirror.

“On second thought, this might be a bit too much. Next.”

Shifty was now a nerd just like Richie. To really sell it, he put on some headphone, had glasses that were blue in contrast to Richie’s red ones, and even a band aid on his cheek. Looking in the mirror, Shifty was quite impressed.

“This get-up makes me look young.”

Buttons makes a gesture like she was saying “Richie”.

“Yeah, I think this may be ahead of its time.”

Shifty decided to go for the big guns. He shapeshifted into the scariest thing he could think of… A square jock just like Ace. He was wearing a blue letterman’s jacket with an S, a blue tie, and even changed his hair style. To make it even more convincing, he had a football that Ace left behind from his last visit.

“What do ya think now?”

Buttons just stared a little confused.

“Yeah, this could be bad for my rep, even if I told ‘em that it’s just a costume.” He changed back to his usual greaser clothes. “I’ll think of something on the way. Right now… Let’s get on with your own costume.”

Buttons squeaked in delight.

First, Shifty dressed Buttons like some Russian beauty with a coat. But, the eye lashes made her look too sassy. Next, he dressed her up like a wizard. But he was afraid it would make her stick out too much. Then, he dressed her like some school teacher complete with glasses modeled after Richie’s, a pencil, and a balloon apple with a worm coming out of it. But it was way too simple.

“What would be good for you?”

Then, Buttons goes to a chest. She opens it to show his skin that he shaded some time ago.

“Huh. I thought that would have rotted away by now.”

Suddenly, Shifty got an idea. Taking the skin, he cut it up and sewed it up until it was a little version of Shifty’s alien form. It was just Button’s size and put it on her.

“Cool,” Shifty said with a smile.

Buttons squeaked in agreement.

Shifty looked up at the clock on the wall.

“Looks like we better go.”

Buttons got into Shifty’s coat and they set off for Brick’s house.

The Bozos assembled at Brick’s house in costumes. Brick was dressed as a martial arts master, complete with a pair of nun chucks and left his coat open to expose his chest which Boomer really liked. Speaking of Boomer, he was dressed like a housewife with a red dress, an apron, red heels, and even a frying pan. Ace was dressed like a 1940s detective. He also borrowed Ace’s magnifying glass to complete it. Ace claims that he came as a teen vampire. Basically, it’s just his regular clothes with his letterman jack and a pair of fake fangs.

“Hey, it was the best I could come up with,” he explained.

“You could have a least wear a cape,” suggested Boomer.

Shifty and Button arrive at last.

“You still ain’t found a costume?” asked Boomer.

“I couldn’t decide,” Shifty explained. “But look at what I did for Buttons.”

The guys couldn’t help but fond over how cute Buttons looked in her Shifty Alien suit.

“Where did you get the stuff to make it?” asked Ace.

“You don’t wanna know,” said Shifty.

Then, the familiar sound of Richie’s motorbike came in. The others turned only to drop their jaws. There was Richie… as a greaser.

“R- Richie?” asked a stunned Shifty.

“Tell me about it, stud~,” he responded.

Shifty nearly changed back into his alien form, but managed to hold it together while trying to keep Buttons in his jacket. But it was no use, and just like that, Shifty was back in his alien form. However, his coat remained.

“Holy crap, they’re coming!” said Brick as his neighbors’ door opened.

Shifty quickly took out a pair of sunglasses and put them on, hoping Mr. and Mrs. Gowen wouldn’t get suspicious. Mr. and Mrs. Gowen were dressed like Alice and the Mad Hatter respectively, Matha was dressed like a princess, Sally was dressed like a cowgirl, and Patty was dressed like a witch.

“Shifty?” asked Mr. Gowen. “Is that you?”

“Y- Yes?” said a nervous Shifty.

Mr. Gowen was silent in thought for a while. And then…

“It’s perfect!” he shouted in glee. “An alien greaser? Now that’s original. I never would have thought that.”

Shifty sighted in relief.

“As for you, Richie,” said Mr. Gowen. “I’m impressed as well. Can you really see without your glasses?”

“I got contacts,” said Richie.

“Well, as long as it’s just a costume, I guess it’s fine.”

“I don’t know; I may keep this look for good… What? Can’t a guy change his style every now and again. But don’t worry. Even if I really do become a greaser, it’s still me.”

“Okay. And you, Ace, you’re not wearing a costume?”

“I am wearing a costume,” he said, pointing to his fake fangs. “It’s all I could afford at the moment.”

“I see. I guess with what happened to your father-“

“Jerry,” said Mrs. Gowen, sternly.

“Sorry. And…”

Mr. Gowen stopped when he saw Brick and Boomer.

“You… You look… Unique.”

Brick and Boomer didn’t whether they should laugh or be offended.

“Why doesn’t Dad like Brick and Boomer?” asked Martha.

“That’s not true,” said Mrs. Gowen. “It’s just that… People like Brick and Boomer make your father a little nervous.”

“But don’t worry, sweetie,” said Mr. Gowen. “I’m slowly but surely accepting it. I mean, the world is changing. Might as well change with it.”

“That’s true,” said Brick.

“By the way, Martha,” said Boomer. “I like your costume. You look just like a real princess.”

“I really wanted to be a pirate,” she said. “But Dad says that’s for boys.”

“And besides,” added Mr. Gowen. “I looked in every costume shop. They’re sold out. I guess pirates are the most popular this year. But don’t worry, we’ll try again next year.”

“Now,” said Mrs. Gowen. “Let’s go over the rules again. What’s the first rule?”

“Stay with Brick and his friends and don’t wonder off,” said Martha.

“Don’t talk to strangers,” said Sally.

“Don’t enter the houses,” said Patty. “Unless it’s the house of someone we know.”

“Take only candy that’s from houses, not off the streets,” said Martha.

“Keep the flashlights with us at all times,” said Sally.

“After getting the candy, don’t doddle, keep going,” said Patty.

“And most importantly…” said Mrs. Gowen.

“No eating the candy until after we get home,” the girls all said in unison.

“I’ve never heard of that rule before,” said Brick.

“After what happened last year, you never know what you mind find,” said Ace.

“And be sure to be back by nine,” said Mrs. Gowen. “I already made a lasagna. Heat it up when you get back.”

“Actually, I think I can make something just as good,” said Boomer.

“No,” Mr. Gowen. “I mean, you don’t need to trouble yourself. I’m sure things will be fine.”

“I can assure you, Mr. Gowen, Boomer’s a great cook,” said Brick. “Your daughter and her friends are in for a treat, if you pardon the pun since it’s Halloween.”

“I suppose… I mean, he has a frying pan.”

“Jerry, we’re going to be late,” said Mrs. Gowen.

“Right, “I’m late” is the White Rabbit’s line, not the Mad Hatter’s. Coming, Ella! Well, we’ll see you girls later. Stay safe.”

“Thanks, Dad,” said Martha.

“Thanks, Mr. Gowen,” said Sally and Patty.

With that, Mr. and Mrs. Gowen got in their car and left.

“You actually looked good in that, Boomer,” said Sally. “Nice legs.”

“Thanks,” said Boomer, proudly. “Just remember these legs are for someone else.”

He winks at Brick who was blushing happily.

“Actually, I like Shifty’s better,” said Martha. “He almost looks… sexy.”

Shifty was unsure what to say. But he could tell Buttons was stirring in his jacket in jealousy.

“You’re… Not actually falling for me, are you?” asked a nervous Shifty.

“You wish,” said Martha. “I already have a boyfriend. Just don’t tell my dad, okay?”

“Your secret is safe with me. Believe me, I can keep one.” Shifty winked with a smile and he could tell Buttons was happy.

“What’s that in your jacket?” asked Patty.

Shifty took Buttons out of his jacket as she pretends to be a stuffed toy.

“I just thought it would make it more convincing,” lied Shifty.

“I think it’s really cute,” said Patty.

“Can we go now?” asked Sally. “The good candy is always the first to go.”

“Right,” said Richie. “Let’s get going!”

With that, the Bozos, Richie (who by now is probably a Bozo himself), Ace, and the girls left for their candy quest

They went from house to house, gathering candy wherever they go. . Many people were a little confused about the Bozos’ costumes. Especially Brick and Boomer, but they ended up liking them anyway. In the upper class neighborhood where Ace once lived, he had to hide his face in hopes no one would recognize him. It would be a bit humiliating if some of the guys he once hung out with at school saw him and laughed at his current situation.

After what seemed like hours, it was time to head home.

“It’s really getting dark,” said Bones. “We should get going.”

Suddenly, it began to rain.

“We need to get inside somewhere,” said Brick.

“How about there,” said Boomer.

He was pointing to… an old abandoned house.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” asked an unsure Ace. “And of all the nights, a dark and stormy Halloween night?”

“Do you see anywhere else?” asked Shifty.

Ace knew this was true. So, they all went inside the house. It was dark and dusty.

“Abandoned is right,” said Brick.

“I can’t imagine anyone living here,” said Boomer.

Bones looked around the house for a bit. Suddenly, he went as pale as a ghost.

“You guys,” he said with dread. “I think I know where we are.”

“What do you mean?” asked Martha.

“I don’t get it, either,” said Shifty.

“This was before you girls were born,” said Bones. “And before Shifty came to town. It was back when we were just kids around your age.”

“Can you tell us?” asked Martha.

“Okay,” said Bones, grimly. “Just hope you like… ghost stories.”

The group sat down and listened to Bones’ story.

“Many years ago, when we were just kids, there was a rumor going around town that this house was haunted. Every night, a bloody head would fall down the chimney… That chimney.”

He was pointing to a nearby fireplace.

“Because of this rumor, the owner would not stay in it. However, one day, he announced to the whole town that he would give $5000 to whoever was brave enough to stay in the house for one night. But no one would even dare. They were just too damn scared.”

Shifty scowled at Bones for saying damn in front of three little girls… Four, actually. But Bones continued.

“But then, a young man and his dog came up. He said that he would take the challenge on the condition that he would be allowed to bring his dog with him. The owner agreed.

Later that night, the young man and his dog arrived at the house. He lit a fire in the fireplace to keep warm. As it got later, the young man was starting to think that the rumors were just made up and was about to head up stairs to sleep.

But just as he was about to get up, he heard a voice singing a sad song…

Me Tie Dough-ty Walker…

The young man thought it was probably just some drunkard singing gibberish. But no sooner had he brushed it off… his dog responded.

Lynchee Kinchy Colly Molly Dingo Dingo.

The young man was startled. He had never heard his dog utter a word, never mind singing. Suddenly, the young man heard the singing again, but this time, it was closer.

Me Tie Dough-ty Walker…

A bit afraid, the young man urged his dog to remain quite… But to no avail.

Lynchee Kinchy Colly Molly Dingo Dingo.

The young man didn’t know what to think. Then, the song was song again. This time, it was real close.

Me Tie Dough-ty Walker…

And like before, the dog responded.

Lynchee Kinchy Colly Molly Dingo Dingo.

The young man wanted to leave, but he couldn’t. Something just wouldn’t let him get up. Then, he heard the singing again, only this time, it was right on the other side of the wall.

Me Tie Dough-ty Walker…

The young man once again urged his dog not to respond, but like before, he did not listen.

Lynchee Kinchy Colly Molly Dingo Dingo.

Then, the young man heard something climb up the side of the house. Then, it was on the roof as it continued its song. Only louder.

Me Tie Dough-ty Walker!

The young man tried to silence the dog with his hands, but he only growled at the young man. When he kept his distance, the dog responded. Only louder than before.

Lynchee Kinchy Colly Molly Dingo Dingo!

Then, whatever was on the roof went into down the chimney and sang so loud that it was almost deafening.

ME TIE DOUGH-TY WALKER!

Then, the dog responded with the song, but now really loud almost like a howl.

LYNCHEE KINCHY COLLY MOLLY DINGO DINGO!

Then, something fell down the chimney into the fireplace, missing the fire, and landed next to the dog… It was a bloody head. The dog took one look at it and fell over dead from fright. Then, the head turned to the boy, opened its mouth, and…

AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

The Bozos, Richie, Ace and the girls were now shaking.

“The next morning, the owner came to check on the young man. But when he went in, he found the young man lying next to his dead dog. His hair was completely white from shock and his was uttering gibbering. The ambulance came to take the young man to the hospital. When the owner asked the young man what had happened, all he could say was…

The Jangly Man is coming.

The young man is still in the asylum to this day. And every night, he sang the same song…

Me Tie Dough-ty Walker…

The end.”

Bones could tell that the Bozo, Richie, Ace, and the girls were now scared.

“Of course, it’s just a story. It may or may not have happened.”

“Well I’m havin’ a hard time not believin’ it,” said an upset Boomer.

“He- He’s right,” said Sally. “It’s just a story. My mom said a head can’t live without a body.”

“Well, I did say it was a ghost story,” said Bones. “But don’t worry, we all know there’s no such things as ghosts.”

“That’s what they said about aliens,” Richie whispered to Shifty. Buttons was listening, too.

“So don’t worry,” continued Bones. “There’s nothing to be scared of.”

But no sooner had he had said it, they heard something faint outside.

“Me Tie Dough-ty Walker…”

“You were saying?” said a doubtful Ace. “I’m not sticking around here for a bloody severed head.”

But just as Ace was getting up, something fell down the chimney and out of the fireplace. Ace, the Bozos, Richie, and the girls just stood silent for a moment… They screamed and all ran out of the house. None of them ever saw that was fell out of the fireplace… was an empty bird’s nest. And none of them even noticed that the singing was just an owl that was hooting something that sounded like singing.

After calming themselves down and realizing that it had stopped raining, the Bozos, Richie, Ace, and the girls all headed back to Martha’s house.

Boomer heated up the lasagna (adding a few touches of his own) and fed it to the girls as he, the other Bozos, Richie, and Ace checked the candy. Thankfully, nothing had been tampered and was all safe to eat. The girls, the Bozos, Richie, and even Ace helped themselves to their loot. Shifty secretly gave some to Buttons. They spent the rest of the evening watching movies on the TV and the girls fell fast asleep.

Later, the sound the Gowens’ car was heard outside and Mr. and Mrs. Gowen came in.

“It looks like you had quite the adventure tonight,” said Mrs. Gowen, taking some money from her purse and gave it to Brick. “I hope they weren’t too much trouble.”

“Not at all, Mrs. Gowen,” said Brick.

“You know,” said Mr. Gowen. “You boys are all right. You can watch Martha anytime. Thank you.”

“It ain’t no prob,” said Shifty.

With that, the Bozos, Richie, and Ace all went next door to Brick’s place to stay for the night.

None of them will ever forget that eventful Halloween night…

And Buttons won’t forget that it was her first one.

The end.

[puddygeeks]

Wᴇ Cᴏᴍᴇ Rᴜɴɴɪɴɢ - Tʜᴇ 100 Bᴇʟʟᴀᴍʏ x OC - Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 29: Wᴏʟғ Iɴ Sʜᴇᴇᴘ's Cʟᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ

Masterlist

Episode: We Are Grounders - Part 1

Rating: Mature

Summary: During her time in the Skybox, Indigo formed a precious friendship with fellow outcast Octavia Blake, the girl under the floor. At first they thought their departure from the oppression of the Ark was a blessing, but quickly came to rely on Indigo's keen survival instincts. The 100 struggle to meet the challenges of Earth whilst Bellamy strives to lead the wavering teenagers and his irresponsible attitude fuels constant conflict with Indigo. Their only shared interest is in protecting Octavia and Indigo beings to suspect that there is a deeper cause to Bellamy's seemingly irrational choices. As the consequences of his actions mount up around him, he finally begins to confide in her and she discovers more than she ever bargained for. 

Fandom: CW’s The 100

Pairing: OC x Bellamy Blake

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: Mature content. Non-consent, language, sex, self harm, suicide, anxiety, helplessness, torture, captivity/confinement, alcohol/drug use.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The night seemed to drag on forever as I pushed myself to keep working. I’d lost the feeling in my hands hours ago and my eyes stung from exhaustion. I was constantly aware of the impending danger of attack from the grounders and the risk of being outside the camp walls gave me a healthy dose of fear that kept me awake. Many of the others had either given up or swapped out with someone else, leaving as one of the last few determined workers remaining in place. I was relieved when daylight broke but I knew that Bellamy would find me when he was ready to talk about next steps. I assumed that, like me, he wanted to squeeze every last moment of preparation out of camp that he could so I continued planting landmines with bleary eyes.

“Indigo!” I could barely tell where the voice was coming from through my exhaustion. I glanced around, unable to see the source of the voice but it seemed to be far away. “Indigo!” The call came again and I knew that I had definitely heard it this time. I stood up and turned towards camp. McIntyre emerged from the gate and sprinted towards me in a frenzy. “Indigo! It’s Murphy, he killed Myles and he’s taken Jasper hostage in the dropship! You have to talk to him, he listens to you.” She blurted and my stomach flipped as her words washed over me.

All feelings of tiredness dissolved and I was immediately on high alert. I bolted through the minefield without even considering the danger and sprinted into camp. I could hear shouting in the distance and my mind raced through a million scenarios of what could have happened. I was terrified that I may have misjudged Murphy and that my defence of him may have cost Jasper his life. I hoped that I could still reach him but as I turned McIntyre’s naive words over in my mind, I expected that any chance of reasoning had long passed as I considered the seriousness of what Murphy had already done. 

As the dropship came into view, I was shocked to find that the door was open and I watched in horror as Bellamy strode inside. I willed my body to move faster in a desperate effort to apprehend him but I was already at my limit thanks to the sleep deprivation of the last few days. I witnessed someone tumbling down the ramp and Octavia surged forward to catch them. As soon as she lifted them to their feet, I recognised that it was Jasper in her arms. I realised with a crushing panic that Bellamy had traded himself for Jasper’s safety and suddenly Murphy’s change in behaviour made a sickening sense. I knew in my gut that he had been biding his time to get to Bellamy this entire time and I felt a rage boiling inside of me as I threw myself at the rapidly closing ramp, bouncing off it with a thud. 

“Bellamy!” I screamed and lashed out in attacking the door, before Octavia attempted to pull me away. “Please, please tell me he didn’t just hand himself over?” I interrogated in terror as I glanced over my shoulder at Octavia and she nodded back tearfully. “God fucking damn you Murphy! If you even think about harming him I’ll tear you apart! You’ll be begging for the grounders when I’m done!” I snarled as I pounded at the door and my words came out with a fury that I couldn’t control. Octavia and Jasper dragged me backwards and I fought against them, lost to the madness of my anger. I landed on my ass and the impact snapped me out of the desperate behaviour. I panted in an attempt to regain control and instead felt myself descending into panic. I pulled my legs into my chest and my hands wound into my hair, tugging at the roots in stress. 

“This is my fault.” I wheezed, barely able to get the words out through the manic thoughts that ricochet around in my mind. “I defended Murphy, I protected him, I pushed others to trust him and now I’m going to lose Bellamy to that vile little rat.” I felt myself shaking in terror and my eyes filled with tears. Jasper crouched down and put his hands on my shoulders to steady me. 

“This isn’t your fault Indie, we’re gonna get him out of there.” He smiled reassuringly at me, despite the obvious nervousness in his eyes.

“Oh, Jasper!” I gasped, gripping him back in a wave of relief. “I’m so sorry, did he hurt you?” I ran my hands over him to check for any visible harm, hardly able to keep up with my back and forth of my emotions.

“Nothing major, considering he wanted to kill me.” He smiled and I released him from my worried grip. “Raven has found a loose panel, I think we can get in that way. Bellamy knew about it before he went in, so he’s just gotta keep Murphy busy until we can back him up. We’ll get him back for you Indie, so don’t panic yet.” He explained in a calm voice and I startled at this news. I used his steady position to pull myself to my feet. 

“I’m coming with you.” I stated firmly, wiping my face and searching for any sign of Raven in the immediate area.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” He queries as he scanned me sceptically. I could understand his concern but I was driven by an overpowering need to do something.

“Oh I’m sure, I need to get my hands on Murphy.” I insisted and I felt my voice drop to a low, dark tone as I spoke. “Let’s go.” I prompted and Jasper reluctantly led me to the back of the ship where Raven managed to pop off the panel as we approached. 

“There you are, no time to waste.” Raven called back to us, opening the hatch and crawling in on her front. Jasper crawled alongside her and as the passageway was narrow, I had to wait for them to get all the way inside before there was space for me. The very first moment that I saw an opportunity I threw myself inside and crawled through as rapidly as I could. Once I reached Raven and Jasper, there was enough space to crouch and I scanned the space for a way into the main ship. I could hear Bellamy and Murphy speaking above and my stomach lurched at the arrogant tone in Murphy’s voice.

“I’ll have to shoot through the floor. I just need to figure out where Murphy is.” Jasper whispered, frantically searching for somewhere to aim through. I fell into step with him in my eagerness to stop Murphy. Raven gripped onto Jasper’s shoulder to halt him and she nudged me to gain my attention. She indicated up at hydrazine containers above our heads and I sighed in frustration at the sight of them.

 “Bad idea.” She hissed, tapping on the containers and it was clear from the sloshing sound that they made that they were nearly full. “Holy crap, there’s tons of it!” She breathed in an excited manner.

“The engines fired late on the way down.” Jasper explained as he scrutinised the containers. He suddenly turned to face Raven, catching on to her excitement. “We can make more bombs!” He gasped and I saw hope glinting in his eyes even in the darkness.

“Can we focus on how you’re gonna get me up there to kill that bastard first?” I hissed, drawing both of their attention with my exasperation. Although I was glad that we’d found something useful, I couldn’t even consider it when I knew that Bellamy was in grave danger right above me.

“Sure but from now on, no shooting. You got me?” Raven instructed, glimpsing between us both for a sign of acknowledgement. As she waited for confirmation that we wouldn’t take any drastic actions a gunshot sounded above and I flinched to face the ceiling in horror. 

“Get me up there!” I snarled as I broke into pacing around the space, examining every inch of the wall and ceiling for any possible entrance points. I felt my hands shaking as I ran them across the panels that made up the ship's interior and I knew that I was barely holding back the bubbling storm of emotions inside.

“Indie, you need to stay calm if we’re going to figure this out.” Jasper whispered as he appeared at my side and tried to slow me down, whilst Raven busied herself with some kind of fuse box behind us. I could hear Octavia’s frantic voice through the radio above as I searched and I knew that we were sharing a similar feeling of despair, although she relied on me to save Bellamy from certain death. 

“You want her to know you’re okay? Start tying.” Murphy’s condescending voice was clear even through the floor and I struggled to contain the panic as it blossomed in my chest.

“God, he’s going to kill him.” I hissed as I rubbed my head in an attempt to calm down, but I felt as if my brain might explode from the stress at any moment. I couldn’t think straight despite my desperation to come up with a plan. 

“I’m fine, just a misfire.” I heard Bellamy’s firm voice respond from above. He spoke in a way that would’ve sounded calm to most people, but I could feel the nervousness in his words and I felt myself becoming breathless. “Now, stop worrying about me and get back to work, all of you.” He ordered, pausing to clear his throat. “And tell Raven to hurry her ass up.” He added with a poignant tone. I thinned my eyes at Raven and she sighed as she continued to fiddle with the wires. 

“All right, that’s long enough.” Murphy spoke again, the cool tone of his voice sending chills down my spine. “Tie those two ends together.” He instructed and the realisation of what he was forcing Bellamy to do struck me in a wave of dread. I had to cover my mouth to keep myself from gagging as the unwelcome image of the situation above filled my mind. Jasper came to my side and put a careful hand on my arm. 

“He’s making him tie his own noose.” I whispered in clarification, feeling a hot tear roll down my cheek. “Jasper, I have to get up there, I can’t just sit and listen to this.” I hissed between panting as I felt panic overwhelming me again and my chest compressed. I hadn’t felt this powerless in many years and it was a painful reminder of the way I’d felt watching my mother suffer before I had the courage to end it.

“Raven’s working as fast as she can, she’s gonna get that door open, we’ve just got to be ready.” Jasper replied softly whilst observing me closely to see if I had calmed down. When I continued to panic, he decided to try another method. “Or you can put that devious mind of yours to good use and find us another way in.” He prompted with an encouraging smile. 

My eyes widened at his words and I slowly came to my senses as they sunk in. I have to find a way to get to them. I separated from Jasper and wandered the space anew, forcing myself to tune out of the conversation above. I caught sight of a small beam of light and all of my focus honed in on it. I ran my hands along the edge of the panel where the light was coming from and could feel air pouring through. “Air vents!” I breathed, remembering that Octavia would use these to sneak around in the skybox. “Jasper, help me get this open.” I called under my breath and he rushed to my side to help me. 

Together we strained against the panel in a desperate bid to move it and I could feel that it was starting to budge. I felt confident in the knowledge that it would have been designed to open for maintenance, but the ship was so old that I doubted this had ever been done. With one last desperate push, the panel popped out to reveal a tiny passageway. It wasn’t clear where it led, but there was a bend that light shone in from. I scanned the entrance to see that there was nothing to grip and the space was directly vertical from my position. I glanced back at Jasper for suggestions and he shrugged defeatedly.

“I want you to feel what I felt, and then…” Murphy’s voice carried clearly from the newly opened space. “Then I want you to die.” My eyes widened at the words and I realised that if the sound was carrying that clearly, this passage must lead to them. I made the impulsive decision that I was getting through it, no matter what it took. 

“Jasper, boost me up.” I instructed firmly and he studied me doubtfully.

“I can’t get you up as far as the bend, how are you going to move up there?” He questioned as he scanned the space and furrowed his brows in concern.

“I’ll figure it out, we don’t have time to plan. Just get me as high as you can, then stay here and be my backup for Raven’s plan.” I demanded and my words bolted him into place. 

He lifted me onto his shoulders with a struggle and launched me up into the cramped vent. I leaned over and managed to wedge myself across the space with my back to one side and feet and hands on the other. It took constant strength to maintain my position and my body shook at the strain. I moved in tiny, controlled movements as I tried to wiggle myself upwards. It was impossible to ignore the events above now, as the sounds echoed through the chamber. I heard something being dragged across the space before Murphy’s stern voice spoke again. 

“Stand on it.” He demanded and I already had a clear image in my head of what was happening in there. I heard two steps and could see Bellamy stepping up to the noose in my mind. “Put it over your head.” My breath hitched at the next order and I urged myself to move faster, pleading with any god I could name to protect him. I was almost at the bend now, I just needed a little more time. I concentrated on keeping my grip; one wrong move now would send me flying back to the bottom and would alert Murphy to our presence inside the ship. 

“This is insane. The grounders could -” 

I heard Bellamy attempting to reason with him before shots were fired again, causing me to involuntarily flinch. I clung to the wall with every muscle in my body and could feel several beads of sweat running down my back. My legs shook in exhaustion and I took a few deep breaths in a dire attempt to calm myself.

“Put it over your head.” Murphy repeated and I breathed a sigh of relief. I took this as confirmation that Bellamy was still managing to stall him and tried to reassure myself. I had to believe that Bellamy could do this, he was holding his side of the bargain, I just had to get to him. I heard the telltale sounds of movement, before Bellamy spoke again in a frustrated tone. 

“Happy now?” He spat and I felt my panic blossoming in my chest. This could only mean that the noose was around his neck and I could easily imagine the smug expression that Murphy would be wearing. We were definitely running out of time. I finally reached the bend in the passageway and met my biggest challenge so far to manoeuvre myself onto the horizontal platform that faced me. I put one foot in the section, and one on the wall behind me and tried to steady myself. 

“You’re so brave, aren’t you?” Murphy sneered as I leaned my arms forward, stretching my body to it’s breaking point. With a multitude of muscle tearing movements, I launched myself forward and splayed onto the next section. I peeked up to find a grate just above me and took in a sharp intake of breath. I was almost there. “I mean, you came here thinking you’re just gonna turn this whole thing around, that you were stronger than me and maybe one of your friends would come and help you.” Murphy continued rambling in a taunting manner and I shifted onto my knees to reach the grate. I tried to simply lift it in vain hope, but I was quickly disappointed to find that it was screwed down. I grabbed the knife from my belt and began slowly turning the bolts with the point of the blade. 

“Well, what are you thinking now Bellamy?” Murphy sneered as I realised that I could see into the space now and was horrified by the scene before me. Bellamy stood on a crate with a noose made from several seatbelts around his neck and Murphy gripped the other end with childish delight. He yanked gleefully at it causing Bellamy to shift onto his tip toes, desperately clinging onto the crate for balance and I could hear his strangled gasps for air. My hands were trembling again and I cursed my fear for slowing me down. Bellamy struggled to keep his hands inside the noose to protect himself and Murphy paced the room, enjoying the act of watching him. 

“You know, I’ve got to hand it to you Bellamy. You’ve got ‘em all fooled.” Murphy moved tauntingly close as he spoke and I descended into screaming in my mind. I was still only on the first screw. “They actually look up to you almost as much as they look up to Clarke. Yeah, well, we know the truth, don’t we? You’re a coward.” He spat just as the first screw finally came out in my hand. I quickly moved onto the screw in the opposite corner, hoping that if I could just get enough movement I may be able to prize it open. 

“I learned that the day you kicked out the crate from beneath me.” He remarked with bitterness filling his voice. I moved much more frantically this time. My nerves were dissipating now that I knew it was possible to get the screws out with my knife. My fingers bled from my grip on the blade but I carried on without any consideration. “Isn’t that what you said? That you were just giving the people what they wanted, right?” Murphy continued with his verbal attacks and I found myself growing annoyed with his words as well as furious with his actions. The version of Bellamy that he wanted to punish no longer existed; he’d grown so much since Murphy began his exile that it felt as if he were punishing the wrong man.

“I should have stopped them.” Bellamy breathed and I could hear the regret in his tone. I couldn’t help worrying how this level of guilt could affect his mental state and I hoped that he would be able to remain focused.

“Yeah, it’s a little late for that now.” Murphy retorted and I kept working on the second screw. I prayed that Bellamy could keep him busy for just a little longer.

“You think they’re just gonna let you walk out of here?” Bellamy questioned and I was thankful that Raven informed him of the plan in advance so that he knew to keep Murphy talking. I doubted there would’ve been much conversation here otherwise.

“Well, I think the Princess is dead...but I know the King’s about to die, so who’s really gonna lead these people, huh? Me, that’s who.” He spat confidently and I struggled not to scoff out loud. I berated myself for falling for his act. He was undoubtedly delusional if he truly believed that the camp would treat him as a leader after this. “And yeah, maybe I'll have to kill your grounder-pounder little sister-” He began in a jeering tone and I knew in the seconds before it happened that Bellamy was about to lash out. 

When he kicked at Murphy, it signalled that I was out of time. I knew that as soon as he stopped focusing on keeping him distracted, it wouldn’t be long before he was killed. Murphy jumped back out of his reach and leapt at the end of the rope, pulling it tight. Bellamy’s boots barely grazed the stall now and he snatched at the noose in a panic. I inhaled sharply as I witnessed the moment unfolding in horror, when the second screw finally dropped out. 

“Of course, I might have to kill your crazy girlfriend too...but then again, she seems pretty fond of me since I got back, so maybe I’ll just keep her as a pet.” He provoked.  I felt sick to my stomach at his insinuation and I was repulsed by the idea that I’d given Murphy the impression of interest as well as causing Bellamy to react in jealousy. I was about to thread my fingers through the grate to prize it open when a spark from below caused Raven to cry out. Murphy quickly realised that they were not alone in here and he glanced down at the floor with a sadistic smile. 

“I’m guessing that’s her right now, looks like I’ll have to kill her after all.” He drawled, storming over in the direction of the sound and firing randomly at several sections of the floor. I put my hands over my head and curled into a ball, anxiously waiting for the gunfire to stop. I heard the sound that Bellamy had trained me to recognise as a gun jamming and I decided that stealth was no longer an option. 

I slid onto my back, unable to see the two men any longer and risked kicking the grate. It lifted slightly and so I kicked it at full force with both legs over and over. I was shocked that the loud clanging sound of my attack didn’t draw Murphy to investigate and I became aware of Bellamy choking with a wave of dread. Between kicks I recognised the sound of a punch and hoped that it was Bellamy turning the tide. There was a slight creaking that echoed from above as I finally kicked the grate free, sending it flying out of sight and I frantically scrambled through the opening. As the room came into view, I spotted Murphy manically climbing the ladder out of the corner of my eye, but I couldn’t focus on him as my attention landed on Bellamy. He was hanging from the noose in a limp fashion with his face pointing at the ground in a lifeless expression. 

“No!” I screamed in horror as I pulled the pistol from my belt. I hadn’t fired it since he trained me and felt nervous as I pointed it in his direction. I remembered him telling me that the time would come when I would need it and how he praised my excellent aim when I had the right motivation. I couldn’t think of any motivation that could ever be stronger and so pointed the gun at the clasp on the belts, took a deep breath and fired. As the bullet bounced off causing the belt to snap open and release Bellamy, I ran forward to catch him before he could hit the floor. I was unable to take his weight and so I used my body to soften the impact, lowering him to the ground. I laid him flat on his back and he stared up at the room, remaining perfectly still. 

“Breathe! Please Bellamy!” I shrieked as I pleaded with him but nothing about his lifeless demeanour changed. I straddled him in preparation to do CPR as I wracked my terrified mind to remember how. Two breaths, thirty compressions. I leaned down to pinch his nose, as I blew two strong breaths into his mouth and promptly sat back up. I heard panicked voices from behind, but I couldn’t tell if they were real and I didn’t have the awareness to tear my attention away from Bellamy. I knitted my hands tightly together and just as they touched the centre of his chest, he coughed violently as he tried to sit up. 

“Oh thank you, thank you!” I yelped as I frantically climbed off his lap so that he could turn onto his side and I rubbed his back as he gasped out for air. In my blind panic, I hadn’t even noticed that the door was now open. Jasper and Octavia ran to his side in a panic, dropping to their knees to check on him. I was shaking wildly as adrenaline coursed through me and I couldn’t make out a single feeling in the whirlwind of emotions that tore through my mind. Bellamy didn’t even seem to notice our presence at his side. As soon as he could move, he turned onto his hands and knees and hollered up at the hatch above. 

“Murphy!” His voice was guttural and wild, adequately conveying the fury that radiated off him in waves. 

He dragged himself up the ladder and was able to force it slightly open with the strength of his rage. Now that I could see that Bellamy was safe and had no ill effects from his brief time in the noose, I was able to push the fear aside momentarily. Instead, his determination reminded me that Murphy was still inside the camp and my anger returned, refuelling me for a fight. I ran from the dropship in a red tinged haze and I couldn’t feel anything other than the need to get hold of Murphy. I knew that there were outdoor grips on the ship that were designed for use during space walks and I climbed them in a frenzy. I could hear Bellamy’s furious threats even through the walls and I continued climbing until I had almost reached the top floor where I knew Murphy was hiding. 

As I neared the top level the grips ran out and I searched the ship’s exterior for a way inside. I bashed various panels to check for any movement, but nothing seemed to budge. Without warning I was thrown from the ship by a blast that rang out across camp and fell to the ground, landing on my back in the dirt. I was dazed, unable to properly focus my eyes and there was a sharp ringing in my ears. I could make out a hole in the top of the ship that hadn’t been there before and saw a figure jump out of the hole to break into a run out of camp. I knew this would only be Murphy and so despite feeling winded and disorientated, I forced myself to my feet. Once I stood up straight, I felt my vision clearing and I stalked toward the gates. Although I moved slowly at first, by the time I neared them I had completely returned to my senses and marched towards them in fury.

“I’m gonna kill you Murphy!” I bellowed as I approached, only to be apprehended by two guards who blocked me from exiting the camp. “What are you doing? I have to get out there!” I growled frustratedly as I attempted to force my way past them. A firm set of hands pulled me backwards out of the struggle and I was turned by my shoulders to face Bellamy. 

“Indie, you can’t go out there, the grounders will kill you.” He reasoned, gripping onto me tightly to hold me in place. He scanned my face with a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes and I felt my resolve weakening slightly at the sight of him.

“I can’t just let him get away, not after what he did to you.” I argued, feeling tears fill my eyes again as the image of him hanging in the ship flitted through my mind. I shook my head to force it away and Bellamy’s brows furrowed in concern.

“I’m okay, you don’t have to worry about me.” He stated gently before forcing his face into a reassuring smile as he met my emotional eyes. “As for Murphy, the grounders will deal with him.” He declared and I sighed in defeat.

“Someone’s coming!” A frantic cry from one of the guards drew our attention and he turned toward the gate. Several members of camp moved into formation, approaching with guns raised and I waited with baited breath. I’d already been through so many emotions today, I didn’t know if I had it in me to fight the grounders too. “Hold your fire! Clarke and Finn! Open the gate, get it.” I turned to peek at Bellamy with wide, hopeful eyes and we both remained rooted to the spot, hardly able to believe what we’d heard. Jasper jogged over to stand at my other side and as the gate slid open, I almost collapsed at the sight of our two missing members.

“Hey, we heard an explosion, what happened?” Clarke questioned as she ignored the surrounding campers who celebrated their return. Instead, she ran straight to Bellamy for an update and it was strangely comforting to witness.

“Murphy happened.” He announced in a manner that revealed his disbelief at the state of events. Clarke widened her eyes at him and he shrugged. Jasper suddenly rushed forward to hug Clarke and without thinking I hugged Finn tightly. He seemed taken aback but returned the embrace with a chuckle under his breath. As soon as she was free, I hugged Clarke in quick succession as my relief overflowed. 

“It’s so good to have you both back.” I breathed as I glanced between them thankfully and I noticed Bellamy’s entertained expression from the corner of my eye.

“Where have you been? Where’s Monty?” Jasper asked, hovering around them nervously and I quickly peered behind them to find that he wasn’t there. I had hoped that only their names had been announced, but it seemed that Monty truly wasn’t with them.

“Monty’s gone?” Clarke replied in a confused voice and I put my hands over my face as I felt my stomach drop.

“Clarke, we need to leave, now. All of us do.” 

I heard Finn’s voice but I couldn’t bring myself to care about what they were discussing. All I could concentrate on was Monty. If they hadn’t seen him, I knew that meant that the grounders likely left him to die in the woods, like they had Myles. I lost all hope of him returning and the enormity of that realisation was too much to bear. I turned to face Jasper who seemed to be having the same internal crisis that I was and without a word he pulled me into a hug. I stayed wrapped up in him as the others discussed whether to leave camp or not and we shared a moment of mourning for Monty. We only broke apart to force ourselves to pay attention when Bellamy addressed the crowd.

“This is our home now. We built this from nothing with our bare hands! Our dead are buried behind that wall in this ground, our ground! The grounders think they can take that away? They think that because we came from the sky, we don’t belong here. But they’ve yet to realise one very important fact: we are on the ground now, and that means we are grounders! I say let them come!” Bellamy exclaimed, earning cheers from the riled crowd. I managed to smile at him, despite the whirlwind of emotions that was ravaging me on the inside. After listening to Murphy berate him earlier, I couldn’t help but notice how much he’d grown in the time since we arrived on Earth. I could honestly say that I was proud of both the leader and the person that he was now. 

“Bellamy’s right.” Clarke declared as she stepped forward and I was surprised to find her standing with him for once. “If we leave, we may never find a place as safe as this. And God knows in this world, we could be faced with something even worse tomorrow. But that doesn’t change the simple fact that if we stay here, we will die tonight. So pack your things, just take what you can carry. Now.” Clarke urged. I was disappointed with how her message flipped from start to finish and the feeling only worsened when the crowd dispersed without question to follow her orders. Only Bellamy, Finn, Octavia, Clarke and I remained in the centre of camp, staring at each other in a tense silence.

“Help me!” 

A small cry caught our attention and we turned to see Raven limping into camp gripping her hip. We moved to surround her and I realised with a feeling of horror that she had been shot when Murphy fired into the floor of the dropship. The guilt of my actions threatened to crush me under its weight, as I analysed that I may have been able to protect her if I’d remained by her side. My solo mission barely took me to Bellamy’s side sooner than her plan and even if she’d still been shot, I could’ve at least found help for her sooner. I almost burst into tears as I considered how long she had been trapped there, desperate for rescue whilst we reunited in campgrounds. Finn immediately lifted her into his arms and carried her into the dropship, but I couldn’t bring myself to move. The overwhelming guilt that fell on my shoulders was the last emotion to push me over the edge into despair. Clarke moved to follow but Bellamy blocked her path with a scrutinising look.

“Clarke, leaving here is a big mistake.” He appealed to her calmly but it was clear from her expression that she wasn’t interested in his opinion on the matter.

“The decision has been made.” She answered coldly before she attempted to push past him and I was frustrated by her unreasonable behaviour. He stepped back in front of her stubbornly and I remained frozen to the spot. 

“Crowds make bad decisions, just ask Murphy.” He pleaded and I watched with sympathy as his brows furrowed together. It was painfully obvious that facing the consequences of that mistake today haunted him as I feared. I agreed that this was an overly rash decision and desperately wanted to back him up, but I couldn’t find the strength to step in. “Leaders do what they think is right.” He added firmly with a glimpse in my direction and my heart skipped a beat. I almost burst into tears at hearing him repeat the advice that I’d given the night before and I was thankful that I’d been able to help.

“I am.” She replied with an icy determination. She took one last annoyed glance at him before she stormed toward the dropship and left us alone.

[amostimprobabledream]

My thoughts on Peaky Blinders...

Now I’ve finished Season Five, I wanted to get out my thoughts/ideas/opinions regarding the show. So strap in! - So first of all, the fucking cinematopgraphy in this series is gorgeous. You could take almost any scene and it looks like a painting. The lighting, the way it’s staged, it’s all just so visually pleasing to look at. My inner film student was just sighing dreamily at the shot composition. There’s a shot of John, Arthur and Tommy walking somewhere and you could fucking frame it and put it in your wall. - CILLIAN MURPHY, CILLIAN MURPHY, CILLIAN MURPHY. I mean, I always knew he was a good actor and also a pretty one, I think the role I remember him best in is Batman Begins, but holy shit, I never realised how hot he is until like two months ago. I know he apparently hates his Tommy haircut, but good lord, he can pull it off. The cheekbones! The eyes! The eyelashes! The sexy voice! Needless to say I saw him and immediately developed the biggest fucking crush. Apparently when I talk about Tommy to people my face goes pink. Thank you so much, show, for enlightening me to this human. Tommy is such a fantastic character, and I do wonder if another actor could pull him off quite as well. So much debate over his actions, motives, mindset, etc. I could probably write essays about the complexities of Tommy, but I won’t because this is a long-ass post anyway. He’s such a boss and I would die for him. - I actually really like Arthur??? So the very first clip of PB I ever saw was accidental, when I happened to turn the TV on and the Blinders were taking over the Eden Club and Arthur was glassing a guy in the face. I thought, “Oh, he’s probably like the dangerous thug character everyone is scared of.” (I didn’t know he’s Tommy’s brother at the time.) But actually he’s kind of endearing despite being the Shelby’s pitbull? Idk, the concept of the “failure” elder brother, how Arthur is the character the verbalises PTSD the most out of everyone, how one minute he can be lashing out like a rabid bear and then sobbing like a kid the next... I’m always like, “Oh, Arthur,” because you can see he wants to be a better person, but he just...doesn’t know how. - JOOOHN. I miss him! And it’s weird because in the early parts of the Season John doesn’t DO much but tag around after Tommy and Arthur, but his marriage to Esme is actually So Good and again, he’s actually kind of a softboi under the hard gangster act. (Also his “Do THIS, John, Do THAT, John, KILL YOUR FOOKIN’ TEACHER, JOHN!” is so fucking good.) He kind of provides a lightness when contrasted to Tommy and Arthur that I really do miss, because the last two Seasons have been very grim and I think John’s absence has something to do with it. I liked Esme too, even if she’s a stroppy bitch, her love for John but resentment of her role in the family and also she’s HELLA PRETTY. I’m sad her character has gone for now, but at least she wasn’t killed off. - I also love Ada a lot - I was really shocked when I read that Sophie Rundle hasn’t been acting all that long before she got the part in PB, because honestly she’s very good! And her concept again is a fun one - the only girl in a family of violent gangster boys. (Or as Freddy puts it, “The only princess”, which she is.) Having said that, I’m not sure how I feel about Ada’s character arc over the course of the season. In One she came off as kind of childish and still sort of stuck in her Rebellious Teen phase, then she became a mother and Freddie died, then in Season Two she’s trying to distance herself from the family and go legit, then in Season Four and Five she’s helping run the business and taking money from Tommy. Idk, I wish she’d play a more major role like her brothers because her motivations seem to change based on what the screenwriter wants, not what feels natural for her. Plus it annoys me that Ada blamed Ben Younger’s death on Tommy, but Tommy gets a lot of blame for things that aren’t his fault so I guess he’s used to it. Still, Ada is still a lot of fun when she does get to play a big role and gets some great lines later on. “Tommy Shelby is going to stop a revolution with his cock.” - POLLY, MY QUEEN! Easily the best woman on the show (sorry, Ada) and such a fucking badass. She’s definitely the voice of reason within the family and conflicting loyalty is a really interesting theme that gets explored with her, between her arguing nephews and niece, between her family or whether she wants to marry again and leave, her relationship with Michael, it’s all so great. Helen McRory is such a brilliant addition to the show. Also I love that Polly kinda represents women taking over after all the men went away to war and now they’re back, but the women aren’t just going to creep back into the house - World War One changed the workplace forever for women and I think Polly being the second in command after Tommy reflects that really well. - I think overall my favourite seasons have been Seasons One, Two and Four, I tend to find I get a bit bored in Peaky Blinders whenever it gets especially heavy on politics like in Season Three and Five and I admittedly kind of miss the simplicity of the early days of the show when it was about horse-racing, but the Changretta vs Shelby feud was genuinely really gripping and Adrien Brody was also Very Good. (I mean, I couldn’t take him seriously because of Brodyquest, but I like him a lot.) - I HATE GRACE. There, I said it. And honestly I have SO MUCH to say on why I hate her and also why I think she is the epitome of bad writing that has happened on this show that I might as well save it for a whole nother post, but Tommy and Grace’s relationship always felt so unnatural and forced to me, like they are in love because the screenwriter said so - Grace is the only woman Tommy knows who isn’t related to him and also because it pisses off Campbell. Like, she was tolerable if highly irritating in Season One, but then Two came along and she just got worse and worse. She’s annoyingly convinced she’s better than everyone else, pulls off a LOT of questionable shit that NO-ONE except Polly ever pulls her up on and Tommy repeatedly pining over a woman who lied to him and betrayed him makes no goddamn sense. I wish Stephen Knight would just let him get over her, because her showing up over and over again in the show after the bitch died two Seasons ago is so infuriating I want to throw my remote at the TV. The best bit of Season Three was someone finally putting a bullet in her, honestly. /rant - On that note, I really wish that they’d use May properly. She was introduced in Season Two and honestly her chemistry with Tommy is about a thousand times more believable than anything he had with Guuuhrayce and also May doesn’t consistently talk in that annoying, breathy voice and also she doesn’t shamelessly manipulate Tommy constantly. It’s too bad Stephen Knight couldn’t get Charlotte Riley back for Season Three owing to her pregnancy, because I think the trajectory of the show would have been very different. But her scene where she spoke about her husband and tried to hide that she was crying? So good. The fucking Face Tommy gives her when she asks for a mixer in her gin? Priceless. Agh - May’s been chronically underused in the show but she keeps getting mentioned every now and then, so I’m hoping there are plans for her to come back in Season Six. I really like her and I honestly think Tommy/May has been the best relationship he’s had, because it’s the only one that’s felt A) Natural and B) Equal. - Lizzie Stark. Okay, so I have mixed feelings about Lizzie. I liked her in Seasons One and Two, because she was this down-on-her-luck woman who was treated like crap by everyone, but she wasn’t wholly without her own flaws or personality - she did lie to John and Tommy did act in his brother’s best interests to tell him the truth. The scenes she had with Tommy in Season Two when he promotes her to his secretary were honestly very cute and my heart broke for her when that solider nearly (?) raped her in Season Two and she cried in John’s arms. But over time she’s started to irritate me. I know that people feel bad for her because Tommy honestly does treat her badly at times, though other times she’s also one of the few people he’s nice to, their relationship is complicated. But truthfully I don’t see Tommy/Lizzie every working out properly because Lizzie was a whore. She’s always been Tommy’s inferior and while I do think he cares for her, she never seems to think it’s enough. He doesn’t love her enough and she’s never satisfied with it and she’s always resentful of him. But you can’t FORCE someone to love you and it’s interesting that the minute she learned she was pregnant, you could see her thinking of how to make this work. She pulled the Baby Trap on him just like Grace did and got married like she wanted, but Tommy still doesn’t truly see her as his equal. And honestly, I don’t think she’s smart enough for him. Add that to Lizzie being EXTREMELY petty to other women (including her being really rude to May and slut-shaming her - bit rich from you, isn’t it, Lizzie?), and I don’t think they have a healthy relationship. I do like little Ruby a lot (way more than Charles, who is a spoiled brat because he’s Grace’s son and has a martyred dead mummy), but honestly I don’t see Tommy/Lizzie working out. I just hope that she doesn’t leave and take Ruby, I think it’d break Tommy to have his daughter taken away from him. - Alfie Solomons. So...I have to confess I have mixed feelings about Alfie. I liked him in Season Two because he’s batshit crazy, Tom Hardy is clearly having the time of his life and it’s refreshing to have a rival to Tommy who isn’t cartoonishly evil like Billy Kimber or Sabini. He ties into Season Two very well and yeah, I can see why he’s so popular. Also he’s pretty attractive, so that always helps. But. Alfie is starting to come across a bit like a creator’s pet to me. He consistently betrays Tommy every goddamn Season and while I know the fandom love to joke about this, it’s pretty inexplicable that Tommy would bother to continue to do business with him after being burned so many times and now it turns out he’s alive. Why? Why bring Alfie back? I feel like he was brought back because he’s a fan favourite and to add another suspect to who betrayed Tommy. I don’t hate Alfie at all, but I am starting to wish he’d face actual consequences for his actions, considering every Peaky Blinders character who fucks with the Peaky Blinders tend to suffer horribly for it, but not Alfie...for some reason. - Michael. Okay so Michael’s actor is pretty damn good and I thought it was cute that he and John’s actors are actually brother irl - you can see the resemblance. And honestly bringing back Polly’s missing kids was a really clever idea because there’s a family tie, but one that isn’t so strong you can always be sure of where his loyalties lie. His subplot with Father Hughes in Season Three was both very sad and very well done - I was cheering him on the whole way. But Season Five has made my opinion of Michael take a dramatic nosedive. He’s gone from sorta-sympathetic to an entitled brat almost overnight. I get he’s probably salty about being banished to America by Tommy in Season Four, but where has this sudden desire to rule the company come from? How did he meet Gina? Is he lying about Gina being pregnant because he figured it’d win him sympathy? I don’t know. He’s changed so drastically, and when Polly gave him that slap, I think she was doing what everyone wanted to. It’s too bad they just wrote Anna off as being dead, though, Michael having a sister and Polly a daughter would have been interesting. - The music?? Is so good?? I love it! Especially the themesong, obviously, but so much of it is always ON POINT. It makes me wanna buy the entire soundtrack. - Unpopular opinion, but I think Campbell was the best antagonist of the show, mainly because he was a vile person but still believable and had the best dynamic with Tommy.  - Season Five was honestly kind of hit-and-miss for me, it seemed like a lot of people are pissed at Tommy for fairly silly reasons in the beginning and I just didn’t find the political subplot all that interesting...but I still will definitely tune into Season Six. (Also these are all just opinions, so please don’t send me hate if you don’t like something I’ve said. Ain’t nobody got time for that.)

[taintjisung]

[10:14] woosung

words: 1792

top: woojin

kinks: kitten, permission

stray kids were very sexually open with one another, so it wasn’t too strange to woojin for jisung to come up to him and ask for help. of course, jisung was shy in asking at first, but as he grew further nervous woojin caught onto his memo.

“you want me to help you cum, ji?” he hummed, putting his hand on the boy’s knee and gently sliding it upward. “why’s that, hm? you don’t usually come to me.”

jisung whined shyly and pulled woojin’s hand closer, face painted red.

“‘m always get nervous... w-want hyung’s help,” he mumbled, and woojin couldn’t help but smile at how cute he was in his subspace, all shy like he was.

“lay down, cutie. hyung will help.”

with woojin’s help, jisung laid back against the bedframe, propped up by fluffed pillows and comfortably laid over the comforter. his sleeve slipped into his mouth and he held the fabric between his teeth to calm his nerves as woojin gently pulled his boxers down, exposing his completely hard shaft.

“aw,” woojin cooed, giving it a soft stroke that made jisung gasp softly. “you’re so hard, baby. why’s that?”

“watching stuff,” he admitted, face growing warmer as he looked away. “then the wifi went out.”

“oh? what do you like to watch?”

woojin parted his lips and gently sunk down over jisung’s head, looking up at him through fluttering lashes for his response.

“u-um,” he shuddered, “like it when... when they do stuff with... w-with the thighs.”

jisung had a very colourful vocabulary when it came to cursing, but the topic of sex made him so incredibly shy, he couldn’t even bring himself to use the f word if it was for something other than emphasis. the members had learnt that fast, as he was the only complete bottom in the team, one that couldn’t top, and chris had tried to teach him dirty vocabulary in order to seduce hyunjin, but with every word his face had grown redder and it had been a bust, multiple failed attempts to make him say even the word ‘dick’ that he just couldn’t do.

woojin knew that most of all. jisung had never come to him before, but walls were thin and he wasn’t always sleeping when his eyes were closed. jisung tended to go to chris and minho most, and though that was still very rare, those were the two whose beds were right beside woojin’s.

woojin released jisung to lick a stripe up his side before replying.

“what stuff with thighs, kitten?”

“when...” jisung tried to motion, “w-when the guy...”

“use your words, jisung.”

he sunk his upper teeth into his bottom lip and hesitated on the f sound, hesitant to say what he wanted. he started again and moved his tongue between his teeth, managing to repeat the word ‘thighs’, but quickly shying after the f again.

“you like thigh fucking?” woojin hummed, stroking him gently, and jisung covered his face with his hoodie sleeves as he turned redder yet, nodding gently. woojin took his wrists one by one and removed his hands from his face, looking up at his pink cheeks.

“do you trust hyung?”

jisung nodded again, but it wasn’t enough for woojin.

“words, kitten.”

“yes, i trust hyung.”

“good,” woojin spoke, ghosting his nails down the boy’s thigh and making him shiver before sitting up and starting to unbuckle his belt.

“i know you’re a virgin,” he hummed, working the metal out of its lock. “don’t you wanna know what it feels like?”

jisung looked as if he were to part his lips, drool would pour out from the way he was looking woojin over, eyes wide in craving for his suggestion.

he pushed himself onto his knees and helped woojin out of his pants, leaving him in just his sweater, too. his mouth came close, but woojin pushed him onto his back, picking his thighs up over his shoulders.

“i’m treating you, kitten. just relax.”

holy crap, was jisung flexible. woojin wouldn’t be able to do this position with chris; he couldn’t lift his legs much higher than his waist. but as he pushed jisung’s thighs up further to get the angle he wanted, he nearly folded the boy in half and he still didn’t complain.

he held jisung’s knees together and pushed himself in between his thighs so that his dick laid atop his, gently sliding it back and forth to rub against him. jisung let out a muffled moan, grabbing onto woojin’s biceps, looking up at him with wide eyes and red cheeks.

“you look so pretty, kitten,” woojin smiled, and jisung smiled shyly and looked away.

“hey, no, look at me.”

“no, i-i’m nervous,” jisung spoke softly, not obeying, but woojin took him by the cheeks and redirected his gaze forward to look him in the eye.

“don’t be nervous, it’s just me.” he leant down and pressed a soft kiss to the boy’s cheek. “i’ll take care of you.”

a soft smile fought its way onto jisung’s face, and he closed his legs further, wanting woojin to feel good too. it worked, as woojin let out a groan and dropped his hands to either side of jisung’s head, and catching jisung’s memo he backed up and held his thighs together, quickening his pace. jisung closed his hand around the both of them, adding more pressure with their movement, and let his head fall back in pleasure.

“god, feels so good,” he whispered, and woojin grinned, wanting to get him to curse.

“does my cock feel good, kitten?” he hummed, and jisung nodded desperately. “how good?”

“so good, so, so good, feels so good.”

“mhm? what was that? what feels good?”

jisung was too braindead now to realise what woojin was trying to do, and just answered as best he could.

“you, you feel good,”

“my what, kitty?”

woojin grinned as hyunjin walked in with a bag of chips, disregarding them for his phone but looking up immediately as he heard jisung’s whiny, “your cock, love your cock, feels so fucking good.”

“that’s it, kitten, that’s it.”

jisung whimpered and reached for something to grab onto, and woojin lead his hands to the back of his own neck before leaning down to ghost his lips.

“is this okay?” he whispered, and jisung hummed his yes before closing the gap, kissing him sweetly as he pulled him closer. he wrapped his legs around woojin’s waist and slid his arms up under his shirt, letting his face fall into his neck as he held on, chasing his high by pressing his body against the elder’s.

woojin slid his own hands under jisung’s shirt as well, touching his tummy then slowly making his way up to his chest, feeling his nipples harden under his touch as jisung moaned louder.

“that something you like?” woojin cooed, and a series of desperate ‘yes’s flooded from jisung’s red lips as he bit them in response to the overwhelming pleasure.

woojin moved his mouth down to jisung’s neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses across the exposed skin and pulling his sleeve down off his shoulder for more. he gently drew blood to the boy’s collarbone, leaving behind a blooming rose in his wake and duplicating a few more closer down to his chest.

jisung was a moaning mess now, woojin’s sweater bunched into his hand as tears flooded down his face. as woojin pulled back, he wiped the tears away with his thumb and pressed kisses to the pale paths they had left behind.

he noticed that jisung’s hand was in his mouth, and gently pulled it away, watching the line of saliva break over his chest. his moaning was more like sobbing.

“are you okay, kitten?”

jisung couldn’t respond, tears streaming down his face as he choked on moans. he was shaking, his hands searching for something new to grab onto.

“aww, do you need permission to cum, baby?”

jisung nodded desperately. “pl-lease, i can’t— mhm— i can’t take it an-nym-more.”

“is that why you couldn’t finish on your own? wanted someone to guide you?” he trailed his hand down the side of the boy’s face and cupped his cheek. “you can cum, baby. cum for hyung.”

“gonna, i’m gonna.”

the smaller grabbed crazily for woojin’s sweater and muffled a cry as he came all over the two of them, the thick liquid practically spilling out of his head with little spurts that left his sweater coated in his own essence. jisung kissed woojin hungrily as he met his climax, biting down as he looked for something to grab onto and accidentally drawing blood from his lip as scratch marks lined his upper back.

as soon as he was finished, jisung fell back against the bed with a tired sigh, heavy breathing on his silent chest as he came down from his high, and woojin pulled away to let him.

“you’re so good for me, angel,” woojin praised, kissing jisung’s cheek again and swiping his thumb gently across the skin beneath his eyes to wipe away the new tears. “so pretty, too.”

woojin gently stroked himself as he watched jisung in his euphoric state, unable to get over how beautiful he looked like this, and as he neared his own finish, jisung sleepily got up and took him into his mouth to catch all of it.

woojin smiled and ran his hand through the boy’s tangled hair.

“good kitty. so good for your first time.”

jisung laid back against the bed. “wanna go all the way next time. not just...”

“thigh fucking?” woojin grinned, and jisung hid his face at the sound of the words. “maybe if you’re lucky, i’ll share you. hyunjinnie seems to like the way you sound.” he pointed to hyunjin across from them, shamelessly watching porn on his phone and getting himself off while eating chips.

“can you blame me?” he spoke sideways, and jisung grew shy again, hiding his face as he laughed gently.

“come on, let’s get you cleaned up, baby,” woojin smiled, and jisung just whined in response, taking his sweater off and handing it over. woojin rolled his eyes and tossed the sweater into the hamper by the door and retrieved a new set of clothes for them, helping jisung to dress in pyjamas before tucking him in and planting a goodnight kiss to his forehead.

“stay,” jisung whined, pulling on woojin’s shirt, and woojin rolled his eyes, getting back into bed with him.

“good night, ji.”

“night,” jisung sighed, and cuddled into woojin’s arms before quickly falling asleep.

[freakouterin]

The Princess Collection: Sally Okay, before someone mentions it, yes, I am aware Sally is not a princess or even close to it, but she IS a Disney (well, Touchstone) leading-lady. This was honestly so fun to do and I am really happy with how she turned out. Tagging the creators below because I’ve been rude and haven’t gotten around to the others yet (but I will soon!)  Skin overlay by @sims3melancholic // Patchwork bodypaint (I used the tattoo version) by @kyimu //  Hair (Patreon exclusive) & Choker by @simpliciaty-cc // Eyebrows & Tears (both Patreon links, but free because she’s a real life angel) & Nails by @pralinesims // 3D Lashes (Patreon - WORTH. IT.) by @leahlillith (holy crap these are so realistic) // Lipstick by @fashionroyaltysims (TSR) // Overall Dress (Patreon exclusive) by @grafity-cc // Bodysuit (Patreon link, but free) by @pinkpxls // Boots by @madlensims // Aaaand as always, nearly every slider/preset by @obscurus-sims