#appears sparsely but always effective

[goabstract]

Nog grew from some kid in ds9 to one of the characters whose episodes are used to carry the heaviest messages.

[bleachification]

⸻ THE PRINCE(SS) & THE PROTECTOR

pairing: zoro x reader

word count: 3.5k

synopsis:  being in love with zoro is not for the weak, especially when such a love is unrequited. so it is all the more confusing when a certain pirate refuses to let you go when you decide to give your heart a break and leave the crew for good.

note: i really need to stop writing zoro fics with an arranged marriage and bodyguard/protector type premise. with that being said… enjoy xoxo

(also yes this is part ONE)

+ + + + + + + + + + + +

Thunderstorms are the perfect weather conditions for silent rumination. You isolate yourself in a corner of the ship, eyes closed as rainwater glides down your face in cool streams. With a smile, you breathe in the scent of salt and earth that mingles with the southern winds. 

The crew is below deck, sheltered from the downpour and crackling lightning that splits the skies every so often. They’re all asleep and have been for a while now. You are the outlier. The strange one that decided to sit between a storm and the sea during the devil’s hours. Funnels of black clouds swirl angrily above you as it continues to pour. Your clothes, hair, everything is drenched. Soaked down to the very bones—some particularly weary ones. 

You relish the feeling of the water against your skin for another moment, reviving yourself from the bleak reflections plaguing your mind. By the time you make it inside, a decision was made. 

The next morning, faint sunlight filtered by sparse clouds light up the horizon in hues of soft orange and calm yellow. The water is still. Steady. Almost as if it had forgotten its role as a tempest’s plaything mere hours ago. It’s early. Much too early for most of the crew to be awake, but you can hear a faint tinkering from Usopp’s room and the steady footsteps of another member coming up the stairs to the upper deck.

A familiar silhouette appears in your vision. 

“Morning, Robin,” you say. 

The archaeologist comes to stand next to you and nods. “Good morning. You’re up early.”

“Had a lot on my mind. Doesn’t leave much room for sleep,” you point out. 

“Did you get any?”

“Some.”

She raises a brow, unconvinced. 

“About an hour's worth,” you shrug. 

An arm sprouts up from the railing you’re leaning on. It holds out a mug of steaming coffee. You take the cup gratefully. The smooth liquid warms you up in the crisp autumn air. Robin takes a sip of her own drink before responding. 

“What’s the verdict?” She asks. 

“I’ve decided to go.”

She sighs. “That’s it then. I understand there’s no point in trying to change your mind?”

You shake your head sadly. The past few weeks of turmoil and trepidation cemented that certainty. You can’t stay. Not when the fate of a nation falls on your shoulders… and certainly not with feelings as forbidden as the ones you harbour. 

“Is it because of him?”

“No. No,” you emphasize at Robin's doubtful expression. 

“Don’t lie,” she chides. 

You grimace. “Well, not entirely because of him.”

Robin scans the calm horizon with watchful eyes, a storm of thoughts whirling into action behind that piercing gaze of hers. The archaeologist has always been the most logical out of the crew, favouring rationality over emotion. It is the trait you admire most about Robin and the reason why you sought her counsel specifically, choosing to confide in her—and only her—about the decision you faced. 

“He deserves to know,” she says softly. 

You stiffen, the mere thought making your throat tighten up with anxiety. You shake your head, effectively ending the conversation. At the perfect time too, as one by one the rest of the crew pad up the stairs, ready to start the day. 

Luffy first, bounding up the steps with a large grin. Nami follows, then everyone trickles through the doors. Zoro is last. 

The swordsman yawns and stretches his arms behind his head, taut muscles glistening under the morning sun. He opens one eye, peeking at you from under sleepy lids. Your heart clenches at the lazy smile he greets you with. 

This is going to be difficult. 

“Mornin’,” Zoro mumbles, stifling another yawn behind his fist. 

The rest of the crew bustles about, running around the deck in preparation for the day ahead. You hear Luffy’s excited laugh somewhere in the background followed by familiar shouts of concern and beratement from Nami, Sanji and Usopp, each taking turns to scold the captain’s latest—and no doubt foolish—idea. Whatever it may be. 

The noise and chaos fades away the moment Zoro walks up to you, his warmth surrounding you despite the cold morning temperature. It makes it near impossible for you to focus on much else. Anything else. 

“Hey,” you say. 

He frowns, eyes scanning your face. You resist the urge to touch it, anxious. Was there something on your face? A pimple? An eyelash? 

“What? What is it?” You ask, nerves alight. 

“Did you stay up late?”

You blink, caught off guard. Did you really look that tired?

“Yes,” you answer plainly. There’s no point in trying to hide it from him. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Zoro arches a brow. “Why not?” Concern laces the question. You almost crumble, seconds away from confessing the truth you’ve been hiding for weeks, when someone barrels into Zoro, knocking him over and effectively ending your conversation. 

Luffy, unfazed, pops up onto his feet and dusts himself off, his signature toothy smile never having left his face. Despite his right-hand man groaning on the ground next to him, Luffy seems as chipper as ever. 

“Sorry, Zoro!” He apologizes, not sounding very sorry at all. 

“I… hate… you…” Zoro grunts, still recovering from having the wind knocked out of him. 

Luffy only laughs it off and runs back to the rest of the crew, chattering about some new adventure that is bound to be more effort than it is worth. 

“You okay?” You press your lips together in an attempt to stifle a laugh. 

Zoro takes the hand you offer, warm palm wrapping around your own. You can feel rough calluses against your skin—a testament to his training. You pull him up and watch him steady himself. He doesn’t let go of your hand. Nervous, you break contact first. 

He shoots you a puzzled look, but decides against commenting on it. 

“I will be once I knock him upside the head.”

“Let’s not give the poor boy brain damage.”

Zoro snorts. “You mean more than he already has?”

You laugh, the sound almost entirely concealed by a burst of raucous shouts coming from the other side of the deck. Curious, you begin walking over to the crew. Zoro follows suit with his hands in his pockets. As the two of you make your way across the ship’s expanse, the sight of Nami and Luffy arguing comes into view. The others stand off to the side, exasperation and amusement colouring their expressions. 

“It’s too risky!”

“It’ll be fine, why are you being so boring?”

“I am trying to keep us from getting killed,” Nami seethes. Her face is set in a tight scowl that twists her features into something alarmingly frightening. You haven’t seen her this angry in quite some time. 

“Not if we’re careful,” Luffy defends. The captain looks bored and irritated at the same time. 

Nami’s right eye twitches.  

Oh dear. 

“And since when are you careful?” 

“I’m not. But [name] is.” Your captain jerks a thumb in your direction. 

All heads swivel to look at you. 

You raise your palms up, placating. “I… just got here.”

Nami runs up to you, eyes pleading. The ginger-haired woman grabs your shoulders and gently shakes you. 

“Please knock some sense into him!”

You tilt your head and lean to the left in order to peek at Luffy from behind Nami’s frame. The boy scratches the back of his head with a toothy grin. 

“Would you care to explain, Captain?” You ask bemusedly. 

Luffy’s eyes dance with mischief. “We’ve got a mission!”

It’s Zoro that steps in this time. “Just the two of you?”

“Well, yeah,” Luffy answers plainly. 

You gently pry Nami’s hands off. “Why?” 

“You’re the only one who knows the layout of the place,” he explains. 

You frown. “What place?”

“Aracorn Palace,” Robin interjects. There’s a small smile on her face as she watches the situation unfold. Always assessing. Always dissecting. 

Aracorn… such a familiar name. It takes a second before a sliver of memory tickles the edges of your mind. An image forms; one of a mighty castle built from silver and stone erected in the heart of a powerful city. 

You used to travel there for important delegations and social banquets. Luffy is right. You do know the area well. 

“We’re going there? What for?”

“And why only the two of you?” Zoro questions. 

“To be stealthy,” Luffy grins. 

“Right. Stealthy. You.” Zoro stares, unconvinced. 

Luffy ignores his second-in-command. “We’re going to go rescue someone. He’s being kept in the dungeons.”

So many questions. 

“Who is it?”

Robin, again, speaks up. “His name is not important. He may not even own such a thing. His role as an ex-member of an underground information guild named Kleios is what makes him useful to us. An execution date has been set for tomorrow evening, so if we are to save the man, we must do it soon.”

“Well? What do you say?” Luffy's enthusiasm is palpable. 

The rest of the crew watches you, assuming that you would wave it off. The danger is obvious, and you are—among most instances—level headed enough to pull the plug when needed. 

One last adventure. 

You surprise them. 

“I’m in.”

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . 　  

You should have known it wouldn’t be easy. In fact, you should have known that the entire plan would fall apart because of course it did. Nothing ever seems to go right for the crew. Right now you curse such rotten luck. Although… it isn’t even luck, not really. It’s the captain… Zoro… Nami… Sanji… the whole lot of them! No matter how organized—how meticulous—a plan was, it never actually fucking went to plan. You suppose you’ll miss it. That unmanned chaos. You suppose you’ll miss all of it. As for who you’ll miss most…

“Zoro!” You stare up at the swordsman in both relief and horror. He dangles from a rope ladder, cascaded off the side of a strange looking vehicle—one with wings and whirring motors that suspend its large metal body in the open air. Usopp sits in the pilot seat manning the impressive contraption. Sweat beads on his forehead from concentration. The others are likely protecting the ship from the nation’s naval cavalry. 

 You increase your pace despite the burning sensation in your lungs. Hot on your heels is a stretch of armed guards mixed with strange looking creatures that look to be a gruesome mismatch of different animals—both natural and mythological. 

Chimeras. 

Luffy, for once, listened and fled alongside you when shit hit the fan—albeit with extreme reluctance. The captain was able to deal with the first rush of soldiers and their Chimera, but the monster was vicious and even Luffy struggled. That was a mere one. The royal guard owned five. And all of them, snapping their fanged teeth and snarling in hunger, are quickly closing the distance between themselves and you—their prey. 

The prisoner was long dead. The whole thing was a trap designed to ensnare the Straw Hats, and Luffy and you had walked straight into it. By the time you both realized you had been played, the cavalry had already surrounded you. Thankfully, Luffy was the master of creative escapes. He was not, however, a master of subtle ones. What was originally one guard unit and its accompanying Chimera quickly turned into all of them chasing after you in a vicious frenzy. 

“Don’t engage! We’ll come to you!” You shout towards Zoro, urging him to stay aboard. You can see a sort of panic in his eyes, mottled by excitement. He’s itching to fight. But doing so would be his biggest mistake yet and likely his last as well if he does not heed your words. 

The murderous soldiers are practically breathing down your necks, and even with Luffy trying to fend off as many as possible, you will quickly be overwhelmed by the strength of the Chimeras. The monsters growl and roar as their heavy steps thunder behind you, bloodlust practically soaking them through. If Zoro abandoned the ladder and tried to fight them off… it would be sheer suicide. You won’t let that happen.

Luffy manages to stretch out and grab hold of Zoro in the near distance. With a yell, he swings himself up and grabs you along the way. You yelp, the sudden movement catching you off guard. You shut your eyes as the wind whips you in the face. With a soft thud you land against a warm mass.

Zoro catches you, arms encircling your waist. 

“Are you okay?” He murmurs into your ear. 

You sag into him from relief. “Yes. Is Luffy…?”

“He’s completely fine,” Zoro smirks. 

Luffy, who is sprawled across the floor, gives you two thumbs up in reassurance. You can’t help but laugh. 

“Usopp! Take us away.”

The pilot gives you a smile and a salute before he presses a button and pulls the wheel up. Slowly, you feel the contraption tilt upwards. Smooth and steady. 

CRASH!

Out of nowhere, you and the rest of the crew are violently thrown to the left as something punctures the metal wall of the vehicle and jerks the entire thing back. Before you go slamming into the wall, Zoro twists himself around and cushions the blow. 

“What the hell?” Zoro’s grip on you tightens protectively.

A strange red pincer curls into the crumpled sheet that—just a moment ago—was the side hull. It looks to be the same sort of armour that is found upon the back of a crab, except it bears a darker color. Not unlike a deep pool of blood. Its shape is almost identical to that of a scorpion's tail but riddled with sharp ridges that cover its surface. The thing is the size of your head—a grotesque limb extended from one of the Chimeras, no doubt. 

Zoro and Luffy both immediately jump into action, the former slicing at the pincer while Luffy tries brute force. Neither works. Solid and unbending, the pincer trembles then stills. The next second you are staring into the howling winds and open space. The army roars beneath you, fifty feet below. The ugly beast with the scorpion tail isn’t finished. It narrows its beady eyes and with astonishing speed, it whips its tail upwards, spearing the floor. 

Usopp does his best to recenter, managing to keep everyone upright and away from the gaping hole left by the ripped wall.

“Shit,” Zoro hisses. “The damn thing is too tough. I can’t cut through.”

“I can’t rip it out!” Luffy frowns, throwing punch after fruitless punch at the immovable pincer. 

Panic threatens to overwhelm you.

Shit, shit, shit. Shit!

Something glints in the corner of your vision. A solution strikes you and you scramble towards a device on the floor. 

“The laser cutter! I can–” but your voice is lost to the bellowing winds as the monster yanks its tail once more, causing the entire machine to shake. You fumble with the device and clumsily clasp it in your trembling hands. Vertigo strikes you as you look down for a split second. 

The ground is nearing at an alarming rate.

It’s too close. Too—

Zoro jumps. 

“NO!” You reach out in an attempt to pull him back but you're too late. The fabric of his shirt slips out of your grasp and Zoro goes tumbling down—straight into the unhinged maw of the monster below. 

You aren’t sure if the screams piercing the air are your own or if they belong to the dying men below. With fluid ease, Zoro manages to sidestep the beast. He dives into the mass, slashing through their ranks. It is beyond impressive. 

But it is not enough. 

The Chimeras have zoned in, their attention drawn to Zoro. Snarling and snapping, they circle their prey. 

Its suicide. 

“No…”

Luffy steps forward, ready to leap into the chaos, when familiar shouts sound from below. 

The rest of the crew are here. 

You collapse in relief, adrenaline draining from your body. 

He’s okay.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . 　  

“This is such a stupid fight,” you sigh. 

“This isn’t a fight,” Zoro frowns, unnerved by the very idea of arguing with you. 

Sanji pipes up. “It sounds like a fight.”

Nami pinches him by the ear and drags the chef out of the kitchen, scolding him as he protests and apologizes. 

“But Nami! They’re in my workspace!”

You and Zoro both ignore him, too preoccupied with the argument at hand. 

“I saved your life. His too. If anything, you should be thanking me.”

You scoff in disbelief. “I’m not going to thank you for your recklessness.”

“And I won’t apologize for it,” Zoro says firmly. 

“You’re going to get yourself killed one day! I refuse to stick around and watch it happen.”

He freezes as he catches onto the underlying meaning behind your words. “What do you mean by that?”

“I…” you hesitate, unprepared for this conversation. You didn’t mean to let news of your departure slip out. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. You’re both too agitated. Too riled up. 

“What do you mean by that?” He echoes. His voice is low and careful, tip toeing on the edge between urgency and trepidation. 

You want to turn around. Walk away. Lie. 

But this is Zoro. A man you entrust with your life and, occasionally, your heart as well. Secrets don’t belong in your relationship—as muddled as it is—and they will only consume what trust you have forged through the years. 

It is time to bear the truth in front of the most terrifying witness. 

With a rough swallow, you tell him everything. Your plan to leave the crew, to retain your birthright, and to finally settle your country’s score, once and for all, by bringing peace through union. A marriage between royal heirs. You and a foreign prince. 

You can’t look at him as the secret you’ve been harbouring finally spills over your lips like oil. If you look at him, you’ll cry. 

“…I leave in two weeks,” you finish. You’re still staring at the ground, heart racing a mile a minute. 

There’s no answer. Silence stretches on for a while, so quiet a person’s breath could be mistaken for thunder. So cloying, it stains your lungs. Finally, you can’t take it anymore. You snap your head up, ready to demand a reply from the swordsman, but the look on Zoro’s face wipes anything you have to say from memory. 

Shock, anger, disappointment, sadness. Those are all too shallow of description for the depth of what he is feeling. The best he settles on is desperation. An intensely unpleasant anxiety that borders on panic. That is what currently thrums in his veins. 

You’re leaving…?

“You won’t change my mind Zoro.”

He doesn’t answer. 

“Nothing will,” you add softly. 

Especially not him. 

This is your goal—your dream. He can’t take that away from you no matter how much he resents it. He simply can’t. But he can be angry, can’t he? He deserves that anger. Needs it to keep him sane. But before he can articulate it, you speak up again, turning the subject back to the argument before. 

“The point is you’re too rash.”

He’s barely listening. “It’s my job.”

“No,” you reply firmly. “No it’s not. You put that title on yourself—placed that burden on your own shoulders, never asking for a hand. Not even when so many would offer.”

“I don’t need help. I protect my friends. That’s what I do,” he grits out. 

“Even at your own expense?”

“Yes.”

You scoff in disbelief. “It's idiotic.”

“It’s my duty.”

“So you say!” You throw your hands up, exasperated and frustrated. “But that’s not all it is, is it? You fear losing that part of yourself—the protector, the bodyguard, the shield—because you would lose yourself in the process. Your entire life—your purpose—does not revolve around meaningless self-sacrifice and protecting us from a world we choose to exist in!”

He scoffs in sheer disbelief. “And you? What exactly is your role? Don’t you dare stand there and attempt to psychoanalyze me when you’re just a damn coward!”

You suck in a sharp breath, his words striking deep. “I am not a coward.”

“Then why the hell are you running away?!”

“Running? Running?!”

He nods, jaw clenched. He avoids looking straight at you—at the hurt in your eyes. “Yes. The only thing you know how to do.”

Anger replaces hurt. “You fucking hypocrite,” you spat out.

He shakes his head. “I’m just calling it like I see it.” 

“You are nothing without your so-called duty,” you hiss. “So you do not get to judge mine.”

“Is that why you abandoned it in the first place? I wonder where this valiant change of heart came from.”

“You could never understand.”

He drops his gaze to the floor and takes a heavy step back. Zoro can barely look at you. “You’re right. I could never understand turning my back on people who needed me.”

Those are the last words he says to you. The next morning, you are gone. All of your things and belongings cleared from your room—like you had never existed on the ship in the first place. 

[the-kr8tor]

Lace

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 4.7k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), Cursing, CW spiders, TW Arachnophobia, TW violence, CW injury, angst, fluff.

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CHAPTER 6 >>> CHAPTER 7

Your pulse thumps loudly against your skin, swallowing a lump in your throat, you bravely make your way towards your friend. That word hangs loosely in the balance, you have no right to get mad at Hobie, he has no obligation towards your feelings whatsoever. Especially that you've never voiced how much you like him, no how much you came to love him.

You've never exactly pinpointed the time or event that made you love your best friend, but you know deep inside that you have. Whether it was platonic before or romantic after a few years of knowing him. You know that you've loved the same man for years. That's why it hurts so much that he's been ogling the unknown woman in his presence. Hands tucked inside the pockets of his leather jacket, he watches her through half lidded eyes, a smile curling around his lips.

The woman's giggle cuts you like a rusty knife, leaving you bleeding and doubting everything. Doubting all the soft touches and lingering gazes from Hobie all those years of hanging out with him. Maybe you are delusional, your lovesick brain making you think and imagine that a man like him could ever love you back.

You hate yourself for being jealous, the big green monster rearing its ugly head. Whispering and gnawing at your shattering heart. Trying to tamp down the ugly thing, cageing it inside your chest like a feral animal, you exhale a shaky breath. Eyes growing glassy at the sticky kiss she leaves on Hobie's cheek. The large Oscorp museum looms behind the stage, casting a large shadow on the couple, as if the building's hiding them from you, mockingly adding to your pain.

Weaving through the crowd, you catch the last bit of their conversation.

"I'll see you at the after party, right, Hobs?" Her voice is sweet yet it sounds like nails on a chalkboard when she calls him 'Hobs'.

"Sure, Lacey," his voice monotone, "go, we're almost on." Hobie nods at her.

'Lacey' winks at him, giving him a flirty smile, waving goodbye. Her long curls bouncing as she walks away.

Hobie notices someone staring, he cranes his neck, squinting, instantly grinning when he spots you. "Oi! There you are! You're late. Nice boots, are they new?"

You clear your throat, blinking away the tears threatening to spill over. "Yeah" walking closer to him, you give him enough space. Far enough for him to not be able to hold you.

Hobie notices your downturned gaze, "you okay–"

"You made it!" Yuri appears from behind, bounding towards you for a hug. "Look at our lucky charm! Lookin' pretty as always" she holds you at arms length. Giving her the best smile you could muster.

Ned and James join her side, "nice shoes!" Ned exclaims, bass strapped on his back.

"'ave you been cryin'?" James asks, concerned. He (unfortunately for you) noticed your glassy eyes.

"What?" You chuckle softly "No, I had to run here, the wind whipped at my face" trying to save face.

"You sure it's not allergies? Pollen count is at an all time high today" James adds, nodding.

"You learned that at your da's radio show?" Ned teases. James shoves him.

"I'm fine, it's nothing" you shrug, it's not nothing, your heart feels like it's been run over by a train.

"You sure you're okay?" Hobie finally chides in, closing in the distance you've put out. Intertwining your pinkies together.

To Hobie's dismay, you pull away a second later, "yeah, good luck. I'll be in the crowd" you give the band a double thumbs up, "you guys better win!" Trying to sound cheerful.

"Hell yeah, we will!" James pumps his fist in the air for added effect.

You walk away, trying to get in front of the stage for a better view of the show, pushing past the crowd, some seem to be too out of it to notice you. Spotting the familiar curls, you stop in the middle of the crowd that's packed together like sardines. Lacey laughs with her friends, hyping them up, drinks in hand, singing a familiar song.

The lights turn to a different color, red enveloping the stage. You feel like you're underwater, the loud noises muffled in your ears. You can barely hear the announcer introducing the band, eyes fixated towards Lacey, she throws a flying kiss towards the stage. You don't have to look at who the recipient was.

Guitar riffs ring out, Hobie's band starts playing their song, the crowd suddenly rushes in, trying to get to the front of the stage, trapping you. Bouncing around dancing bodies, you can't get out of the wild crowd, some noticing you trying to get out, they move and part for you. But some are way too into it to notice you.

"Excuse me, please! Fuck!" You yell out. A stray elbow hitting you right on your eye. The smacking sound rings in your ears, hand nursing the injury. A hand flings to your cheek, backhanding you. "Fuck!"

"Oi oi, stop! y/n!" Hobie's voice echoes around the venue, you deduce that he grabbed the mic from Ned. The band stops playing.

Half of the crowd doesn't stop, still jumping and bouncing around, guessing they've probably snuck in liquor. You ping pong around sweaty bodies, The only thing you could do was try to protect your head with your arms. Closing your eyes.

"Hoy! Fuckers! He said stop!" Lacey's voice screams out, trying to push past the mass. You can barely hear her through the blood rushing in your ears.

A strong yet familiar arm wraps around your shoulder, looking up you see Hobie arguing with a stranger.

"What the fuck! I said stop! Were you dropped on your head?!" He shoves the man away. Pointing at another trying to argue back. "Fuck off!" He lets go of you, shoving the other with force.

"Hey mate, if she can't handle it, maybe–" The man slurs his words, he couldn't finish his sentence, his face connecting with your knuckles. He should be glad that it wasn't Hobie's or else he would have his rings embedded in his jaw. The man keels over, sobering him up in an instant, groaning in pain.

Hobie looks at you in shock, you look at the men like you want to rip them apart.

Everything crushes you, the weight and pressure of your project, expectations from your family, your love for him. Every insecurity seeps out of your bones, drowning you in its disgusting waters.

You throw your anger at the first thing you see.

"You fucking wanker!" You seethe, your eyes darken, the strangers bear the brunt of your anger. "Stop means stop motherfucker!"

Hobie holds you back, if he doesn't you'll get kicked out of the event, "holy shit" your fist held up, ready to strike again.

You push him off, eye stinging in pain. Huffing, You give the men one last angry glare before stomping away from the crowd, too angry to care that you have an audience. Hobie follows closely behind, calling your name urgently.

"What?!" You turn sharply, the skin around your injured eye slowly turning into a darker color.

"Are you okay?" He asks, hands ghosting over your closed fists.

"Stop asking me if I'm okay, Hobart! Do I look like I'm fucking okay?!" You yell, frustrated, wincing at the pain in your socket. "Fuck!"

Your heart aches when you fight with him, moreso when you yell at Hobie. You're angry but not at Hobie, you're mad at yourself, mad that you've read his love for you as romantic, angry that you never told him how you feel. Furious at your jealousy.

One word stays in your mind, your own voice screaming it out like bloody murder: Coward.

"Love" he says softly, hands wrapping around your tightly closed fists, your nails digging into your palms leaving half moons on the soft skin. Hobie slowly unclenches your fists for you, fingers opening up yours. "You need ice over that, I'll bring you to the first aid station and–"

"You don't have to, just go. Get back on stage" you pull your hands away from him, clenching your hands into fists again.

"y/n, you might be concussed–" Hobie stares at you, concerned.

"Go" you sniff. "I'll go there myself" turning your back on him, Hobie watches you walk away.

—

The first aid station sits further away from the stage, the loud sounds can still be heard from where you're sitting inside the large tent. Cheers echoes out, prompting you to close your eyes at the booming sound.

The frozen ice pack melts in your hand, condensation dripping down on your arm. Your eye socket stings even with the pain meds the nurse gave you. Your head feels like it's trying to escape your skull. Sitting on the plastic chair, elbows propped on your thighs, biting the inside of your cheek when you hear your friends asking for you.

Scooching away from their line of sight, hiding behind a water cooler, you try to make yourself small. You groan when you hear the nurse tell them your location. Your anger has finally subsided, embarrassment replacing it.

Maybe you should've left when you had the chance.

Feet shuffle their way towards you, staying put, staring at the grey concrete, shoes fill your vision. Yuri breaks the silence.

"You've got a mean right hook, remind me to never piss you off"

You don't answer glaring at their shoelaces. The water from the ice pack drops on the concrete, painting it darker.

"Bloody hell, give her some room" Hobie arrives at your side, gesturing for them to give you space.

Hobie crouches down, leveling with your down turned stare. Grabbing the not so frozen ice pack from your hand carefully, avoiding touching your hand, in case you don't want to be touched. He stares at your black eye with concern.

"I made you all lose didn't I?" You stare up at your friends, avoiding Hobie's brown eyes.

"We got third place, I don't count that as a loss. It's better than we hoped for anyway" Ned looks at you apologetically.

"Right, not your fault." James adds. "Competition's hard, love"

"You're just saying that, if Hobie didn't interrupt by saving me, you would've won"

"If Hobie didn't jump in I would've jumped after you instead" Yuri chides in, pocketing her drumsticks.

"Me too" Ned says.

"Me three" James raises his hand, "Hobie just beat us to it" he shrugs.

"Still, I'm sorry," saying it softly. You don't miss the way they avoided asking you if you're okay.

"You're the one with the black eye" Hobie stands up, "can I talk to you?" He asks.

"We'll see you later, yeah?" Ned places a comforting hand on Hobie's shoulder. "As for you," Ned looks at you, "you've got my number, call me whenever or better yet visit me sometime"

You manage to crack a small smile, "I will" you stand up, giving him a hug, squeezing your friend. "Richmond's only an hour away" letting him go, you give him a sad smile.

"That's right, I'm only an hour away" Ned pats your shoulder.

Yuri steps in, holding both your hands, "and I'm just in Cambridge" she hugs you tightly, "don't be a stranger, yeah?"

"I'll come visit you whenever I can then" you squeeze her hands.

"You better" Yuri gives you her rare ten megawatt smile.

"Yuri and I will be classmates so you can visit me too if you want" James pats your back awkwardly.

"Fuck off, no we're not" Yuri scrunches her nose at James.

"We'll see you at the after party, Hobie?" Ned asks the unusually quiet man next to you.

The after party, where she will be waiting for Hobie. You try not to think about it, mentally chastising yourself.

"Nah, I have to get ready for her show."

"That's rescheduled actually, it's happening next week instead of tomorrow" you correct him. Hissing when your skin tugs at your eye.

"We'll be there then if you ever decide to pop in" Yuri informs Hobie.

"Alright, see you" Hobie waves them off. Sitting back down you watch them walk away with sad eyes.

"Can I have my ice pack back?" You groan when the pain pinches your eyelids.

"It's basically water, I'll get you a new one" He moves towards the nurse. You sit there, contemplating the past events.

The green monster peeks back out, shaking its cage, shackles straining against its leg. You try to move away from the image of her hands wrapped around Hobie's necklace that you've given him three birthdays ago, cherry red lipstick sticking to his cheek. The way he looked at her, the fucking pain in your eye. You start seething again, wanting to punch something.

You sigh, palms over your tired face, avoiding your injured eye.

"You al–" he stops himself, walking on eggshells. You don't want him doing that around you. "Here's your ice pack, the nurse said you don't have a concussion so I can take you home. Only if you want to" Hobie hands you the ice pack.

"This seems familiar, huh?" You wince at the cold hitting your skin, trying to cut the tension.

"What?"

"Can you fucking sit down for a second" you gesture towards a chair.

Hobie sighs, sitting down backwards on the chair, resting his chin over the plastic back of it, arms wrapping around it.

"When we first met? Remember that? It was almost exactly like this"

He lets out a breathy laugh, "Right, you threw that sketchbook at Terry. Yuri's right, you've got a dangerous arm"

"Should've gone into baseball, or volleyball at least" you avoid his stare. "We were sharing an ice pack, while we bad mouth Terrence" chuckling sadly at the memory. You don't regret meeting him that day, if you could do it all over again even after knowing what will happen, you would, without question.

"Will you fucking look at me" Hobie asks softly, you jump slightly at his angry tone. "Can you tell me what's eating you, is it the project?"

You wait a few seconds to bravely look at him, your face unreadable. "It's not the project"

"Is it really rescheduled, or you're just trying to get rid of me?" Hobie narrows his eyes at you. You can't read him, his expression flat, except for the slight scowl.

You shake your head, "Why the fuck am I trying to get rid of you? Mrs. Williams had a change of heart and gave us an extension, that's it!" The conversation escalates, frustrated at Hobie for implying that you're getting rid of him. You would never.

"Then why are you angry?" He doesn't raise his voice, he never does, and he won't ever start to.

"Because! I'm–" you hear a loud cough, the nurse glares at you two. Hobie notices, standing up.

"C'mon let's go inside" He stands up.

"Yeah, because arguing inside a museum is much better"

"You think those fucks care about a museum?" He points towards the concert with his thumb, "I looked inside, no one's in there. They're all going to the after party anyway"

Sighing, you want to go home, but knowing Hobie, he won't relent. You wouldn't dare to go to his place instead, not wanting to taint your future home with a fight. Your dorm is out of the question, it's almost midnight, your RA wouldn't let Hobie in. You don't want to run from this, even if it means lying to his face.

"Give me the bloody card" He asks for the favour card tucked inside your pocket.

"You're gonna use one on this?" You hand it to him.

"Yes" he pops one off, Hobie doesn't want to ruin his relationship with you, especially with him not knowing the cause of your anger. So he's willing to do anything to prevent that. The wind carries the logo somewhere.

You wish you're that piece of paper right now. Only seven to go.

—

Walking around the futuristic room, the walls white and pristine, covered in blue neon lights. It looks like you're in one of Ned's favourite sci-fi movie, you can't quite make out the title though. The entire place is silent, with only a handful of people walking around, the only sounds are from displays, machines whirring in the background, and noises made by the displays' speakers. They opened up the museum really late for the concert as a promotion even though most people only stayed for the show.

You stop in front of a display, a projection of some enhanced spider lifting something that's apparently fifty times heavier than its weight. Sitting down on a bench in front of the display, eyes glued to the presentation.

Hobie sits next to you, giving you space. He watches the projection's glow on the side of your face, making it look like there's a giant spider crawling on your skin.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you" you finally break the silence. "I shouldn't have done that, you were only trying to help," eyes still watching the educational video. Taking a deep breath, "Why do you think I'm trying to get rid of you?"

"It's nothing" he watches as the enhanced spider bites another spider, fighting with it.

"It's clearly nothing" you scoff, "that's the first thing you thought of when I told you that the show's rescheduled"

Hobie wishes he brought Terry with him, his leg bouncing, a nervous habit of his. "I'm holding you back." He confesses, wincing, regretting it almost immediately.

Your neck snaps to look at him, "You're not, why would you think that?" You sound angry, but your concern for him wins over. "Why?" Tentatively scooching over, you close the distance, cupping his hand in yours. "If anything I'm holding you back, you could've gone anywhere after you left school. Yet you stayed"

Hobie raises his brow at you, scoffing. At first you thought he'll pull away his hand, instead he drops his forehead on your shoulder, fitting right in. He feels the roughness of your denim jacket, squeezing your hand.

The projector's light envelopes you two in emerald green as it switches to a different scene.

"Why do you think I'm still here?" He finally answers after a few seconds. It felt like hours for you.

"Because I'm your best friend" you say softly.

"Best mates don't look at each other like we do" he gathers all his courage, tired of all the pushing and pulling, tired of being selfish, locking his feelings from you. Hobie cranes his neck up to look into your familiar eyes. The same eyes he's longed for. He's so close to you he could see himself in your glassy eyes.

Your heart beats a thousand times per second, Hobie cups your jaw, gaze falling on your slightly parted lips. You hold his wrist, thumb right on his hastening pulse, you cup his jaw with your free hand, hand soft against his slight stubble.

"Best mates don't touch each other like this," he continues.

Your eyes wander around his face, looking for any lies of what he's told you, flabbergasted at his confession. Your breath is seemingly stuck in your throat, heart stuttering when he slowly closes the gap between you.

You don't pull away.

You can feel him tugging at the loose thread, it feels like it's tightening around you instead of breaking you two apart at the seams. The dam has a sizable crack in its foundation, threatening to burst open.

Hobie leans towards your lips, now or never, he sees you flutter your eyes close, taking it as a sign to seal your lips with his. He feels a crawling sensation on his back, ignoring it, thinking it's his nerves acting up. His heart pounds like a drum, he can't back down now.

"Agh! Fuck!" Hobie suddenly screeches, hands flying towards his nape.

"What? What is it?!" You panic, turning him around, yelping when you see a bright spider latched on his neck. "Fuck!"

"What is it?!"

"Spider!" You try to fling it away using your sleeves, avoiding touching the arachnid.

"It fucking bit me!" Hobie slaps his neck in one swift movement, the spider lays dead, still latched on his skin. "Did I get it?"

"Yeah, let me just–" you take a handkerchief from your pocket, taking the spider away from his skin, "there, got it" showing the spider laying on your pink handkerchief. "Oh god it's red"

"You think it's venomous?"

You laugh wholeheartedly for the first time that night.

"I'm serious, I could die from this" Hobie pokes the spider.

Like it's comedic timing, the narrator from the educational video says, "it's not venomous but it is advised to seek professional help when bitten by the wolf spider, some people could be allergic to their bites–"

Staring at each other, "wow" you manage to say at the same time, you giggle nervously, having no idea how to proceed with how things are now.

"It doesn't look like the wolf spider, they're a different color" Hobie pokes the spider to look at its underbelly, "yeah, different one" he acts as if he's suddenly interested in arachnology.

You look at him with so much endearment, your eyes are practically shaped like hearts.

"What?" Hobie catches your staring, a smile playing on his lips.

"Nothin'" you taunt him with a cheeky smile. He rolls his eyes at you but his smile betrays him.

The intercom rings out, "The museum is now closed, sorry for the early closing" a nasally voice says. "There has been an incident in one of our displays, please leave the museum in an orderly fashion"

Hobie clears his throat, hand scratching at his nape, also not knowing what happens now. "I'll take you home," He stands up, offering you his hand.

"Okay" you feel giddy as you take his outstretched hand. It feels familiar yet oh so different now. You've finally got confirmation about his feelings towards you, no matter how vague it was. You two have all the time in the world to discuss it. You've waited this long, you can endure a few more days of tiptoeing around each other. Baby steps, you think.

Swinging your intertwined hands, you look up at him. "Do you think the incident that they're talking about is this spider?" You pat your jeans pocket where the covered spider is kept. "Like it came out of its enclosure or something?"

"They don't have live specimens here, probably not" he entertains your question, squeezing your hand.

You both leave the museum, hand in hand. Ignoring an alarm blaring from somewhere.

—

You hug Hobie's leather jacket tighter around you, the cold air biting at your cheeks, helping numb the pain in your eye. Hobie takes your helmet off for you, the simple action he's done a million times before makes your heart skip a beat. You watch him with curious eyes, waiting for something to happen between you. The large brick building that houses your dorm looms overhead.

You notice him sweating despite the cold, "How do you feel?" You ask, concerned.

"I feel fine" he takes your helmet back towards the compartment of his motorbike. "Why?"

You step over to him, your palm feeling his forehead for a sign of a fever. "You're sweating, it's like fifteen degrees, why are you sweating?" He leans into your touch, sighing a bit.

"It's because I'm bloody fit" Hobie smirks, winking at you playfully.

You roll your eyes, "what if you're actually allergic to that spider bite? We might need to get you to a hospital" pulling back your hand to your side.

"I'm fine, seriously. I have no idea why I'm sweating though" He wipes his moist forehead.

"Okay. I can come with, just to make sure you don't have a weird reaction to it"

"You'll come to the after party?"

"You're still going to that?" Why? She'll be there, you bite your tongue, jealousy gripping you again. He's not going because of that, right?

"Yeah, It'll probably be the last one with the band, I want to make the most of it"

"Okay, just be careful" you wrap your pinky around his, "ask the others for help if you suddenly feel sick, please?"

"I will. Go to bed, you're knackered. Get some ice on that once you wake up, yeah?"

You bravely stand on your tiptoes to reach his cheek, kissing his skin softly. It feels just right, like your lips were perfectly molded for his cheek. Hobie seems like he ran out of air, frozen into place. He has no idea where to put his hands, your waist seems to be a little suggestive, arms seems to be more on the friendly side, if he grabs the back of your neck, Hobie's afraid he might pull you in for a kiss, which you might not want right now. So he settles for your shoulder, it feels awkward still.

You pull away, seeing a very rare sight of a flustered Hobie. Almost giggling, you clamp down, not wanting to tease him more or he might start hiding this kind of face he's currently making. His pupils are blown out, mouth agape. He returns to his nonchalant expression when he notices you biting your lips to stifle your giggling.

Grabbing his hands in yours, you bat your lashes, "Drive carefully, please?"

Hobie pulls you in by your belt loop, hugging you, his chin rests on the crown of your head, long arms enveloping you. He pokes your scalp with his chin. Your laugh pierces through the dark.

"Yeah, yeah" Pulling away, he carefully grazes his forefinger over to your black eye. "Sorry, 'bout this"

"Not your fault. Thank you for jumping in to save me, even if I yelled at you after" you look at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, again"

He shakes his head, not knowing the exact words to reply to you. Rubbing your leather clad arms, he stops when he reaches your hands. "Keep this for tonight, you can bring it back to me tomorrow, yeah?" Hobie subtly asks you out.

You grin at him asking for you to come visit him the next day. "Mm-hmm, I was gonna visit you anyway. You're due for a fitting"

"Yeah? Finished our baby then?" An excited smile appears on his lips.

"Almost, I think you'll like it" You say smugly.

"You made it, it's a guarantee I'll like it"

—

You adjust the weight of your heavy bag on your shoulder, walking along the water towards Hobie's houseboat. Grinning at the familiar boat, you speed walk to the doors. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, excited to see Hobie again after last night, After his 'confession'.

Hugging his leather jacket around your torso, moving the bag slightly away, just to show him that you didn't forget to bring it with you.

Knocking, you call out to Hobie. "Hey, it's me!"

The boat rocks a bit to the side, tilting your head, curious at what might've caused its movement since the river is calm. Finn is right, you can't hear anything happening inside. The boat tilts again, you hold onto the wall for support.

You knock again, "Hobie! Are you okay in there?"

Hobie finally answers the door, it swings wildly, sweat dripping on his bare chest, still in his boxers, his wicks uncharacteristically standing in messy angles. Gripping the doorknob in an iron hold, his chest heaves up and down like he's run a marathon, or like he just–

Hobie seems like he can't properly construct a proper sentence, he blinks at you through watery eyes, licking his dry lips.

You were about to ask him if he's okay, you freeze in place, face falling when a female voice rings somewhere inside– "Hobs?"

You feel a hole caving in your heart, leaving a Hobie shaped chasm, eyes glistening in the morning sun, you don't even wait for his explanation. You just run, run as fast as your legs could take you. You have no idea where to go. Your heart is shattering with every step, you have no time to pick up the pieces, leaving it scattered in the wind.

You can hear Hobie yelling your name, ignoring his urgent calls, you sprint away.

A/N: Everything will make sense in the next chapter 😉 thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it, it encourages me to write more ❤️

*pictures above are from pinterest*

[my-writings-and-musings]

The thirst for Sexwave knows no bounds, but gotta give Bumblebee credit for a solid second!

Gotta love some Soundwave being all tender and concerned about reader, so here, have some fluff! Soundwave struggling with all his feelings is just fun to write tbh...

Soundwave x Reader

Decepticons rarely lived pleasantly on Earth, as their primary means of survival was avoiding humans who covered all but the most isolated and brutal portions of the planet, but their Cybertronian hardiness meant most could endure extreme conditions without much danger.

Unfortunately, you as a human allied with said Decepticons didn't possess such luck. You'd fallen ill after one too many exposures to cold and rain, forcing the Con in your company to take drastic measures to keep you safe while he searched for the help you needed.

Between the fever and the countless miles of travel you weren't quite sure where he'd taken you, but the time spent snuggled under a load of blankets in his warm cockpit had been nice enough that you didn't care where you'd ended up. The endless frozen wastes and sparse buildings led you to believe somewhere up far to the north, but the Con had found a secure enough bunker and rigged up an effective climate control device by your tiny cot, so you didn't care about the specifics. All that really mattered now was that he'd been gone long enough for you to drift in and out of a feverish sleep multiple times. That still worried you, even if he often went out for similar stretches in the past. It was impossible not to fear for his capture every time he left your side...

Metallic clanks echoed up the tunnel to the outside world, and you snapped awake as the rumble of the bunker seal opening and closing quite literally shook the sleep out of you. Though still exhausted and delirious, you recognized the patter of approaching Cybertronian footsteps straight away, and relaxed when you noted two familiar walking patterns; one with two pedes and one with four.

A Felicon bounded into the circular cement room and came to a halt with a skid, metallic claws sending up a brief shower of sparks before two bright red optics focused on you. Carrying a pouch between his sharp teeth as delicately as he could, Ravage approached you with a tentative sniff, looking you over as he always did after you'd fallen ill. Not entirely coherent, you smiled and put up a hand to meet his muzzle.

"Glad to see you too." you greeted, allowing your heavy head to rest on the pillow as the Felicon sniffed your hand and endured the brief petting quietly. He moved aside when Soundwave entered the room, a literal crate of supplies tucked under an arm. Brushing some of the lingering snow and ice from his armor, the mech dropped to his knees beside your cot, checking you over for a fraction of an instant before he got to work. Cracking open the crate with his claws, he pulled out what appeared to be enough medical supplies to stock a small clinic.

"Medical equipment; acquired." he said in recognition of the obvious, focusing his attention on a kit that appeared to be full of medication for every kind of human illness. You doubted the owners had parted with so much willingly, and couldn't help but hope no one had been squished to provide these.

"How did you...?"

"No casualties to report." Soundwave answered, firm but calm enough that you believed him fully. Organizing his haul into piles by category, he surprised you further when his claws delicately plucked a bag of food from a thick thermal wrapping, allowing you to catch a whiff of the first hot meal you'd encountered in weeks. You couldn't even imagine how he'd acquired such a thing, and no explanation was forthcoming once he finished organizing everything. "Supplies fully restocked and expanded."

Ravage ensured his bag was added to the pile before he settled at your side, offering warmth and comfort as Soundwave gingerly handled the bag of food before laying it down in front of you.

"Rations overdue." he instructed with an obvious desire for you to eat, unable to hide the tiniest hint of uncertainty in his voice as he sat back on his heels. Understanding what he meant, you happily complied, hungry and quite touched by the gesture.

"Thanks, Soundwave." you croaked as you unwrapped the still steaming meal, your exhausted body beyond thankful for some much needed nourishment. The comment made the bot pause, his helm lowering a fraction of an inch as he briefly averted his gaze to mumble his reply.

"Gratitude... unnecessary.'

Ravage made a sound that more resembled a snicker than one of his usual growls, and only wiggled his tail in the picture of innocence when Soundwave fixed him with a hard stare.

[chromatoghosts]

okay i talked about some of this on cohost. but i feel like it needs to be shared here, because here is where i experience some of the most of it.

it feels like most abled people only ever see neurodivergent people either as a tragedy, or a joke. except, we all know about being treated as a tragedy. plenty of people discuss that. but it feels like we rarely talk about how on a large scale, neurodivergent people have always been treated as a joke.

growing up, it was "autistic screeching REEEEEE" and the r-slur and "what are you, some sorta psycho" and "i'm so ocd/adhd" and mocking autistic people's stims. and just the entire existence of autism at all as being something inherently ridiculous and to be mocked and joked about. and almost EVERYONE online did it. when i was a kid, i couldn't look up my own conditions without seeing nothing but either people treating it like it was the worst, most horrible thing on earth, or people treating it like people who had it were ultimately one big joke. the only place you EVER saw positivity was in the sparse few communities made for and by people with the conditions.

but back then, the neurodivergent movement was underground. nobody really knew about it if you weren't actually neurodivergent yourself and involved in a few small close-knit communities. but then in the past few years, that's started to change. i think it was around 2020-ish that i started noticing people started to, well, notice us. while we're still far off from everyone in general being aware of our existence, we've slowly started to become mainstream. now canonically autistic characters are starting to appear in media, and people actually noticed when sia released her god-awful movie and criticized it.

but even so, neurodivergency never stopped being treated as a joke. some people realized that their previous jokes were harmful, and it seemed like we were finally making progress. but as a side-effect of neurodivergency becoming more well-known in the public eye, things started to change, and not necessarily for the better. suddenly, the concept of "neurodivergency" itself became a joke.

and now it feels like the label that was so important to the community, which we were so proud of, which felt so liberating, is a joke again. you can't say "neurodivergent" without people saying you're making up oppression for attention, and saying you're overreacting, and saying that godawful "neurodivergent and a minor" phrase. and i understand that some of it is because of people having tryied to excuse shitty behavior off of their mental disabilities/illnesses. and yeah that's awful, and neurodivergency should never be an excuse for bad behavior. but now people are turning one of our biggest points of pride, which we worked so hard on, into something to be ashamed of. not to mention shit like "delulu" and "restarted" and "narcissist" and "acoustic' and "i am in your walls".

and the recent trend that ableism is made up or being overexaggerated, which i've been seeing online recently, just makes my blood boil. i can't go outside without being stared at or treated like a child or mocked. we don't have the basic human rights to immigrate or marry or get a job, and many of us don't have any autonomy at all. countless of us die every day because nobody cares enough about us or believes us. hate crimes and police violence against the mentally disabled and mentally ill is still a huge thing. and it is still legal to physically and psychologically and emotionally abuse us, and in many places kill us. but people act like we're all making this up for attention. it's a type of discrimination and oppression so that is so sheerly widespread and all-consuming, but yet it's so invisible.

i mean of course people have never believed us about our experiences and the sheer amount of ableism we face. that's not new. but i guess just what makes it hurt so worse now is that people now realize the neurodivergent community exist, and people who we used to think are allies are turning against us and mocking us. someone makes fun of neurodivergent people, you try to say "hey don't do that", and now everyone is dogpiling you and saying you're "pissing on the poor" and "proving their point." we can't criticize albeism from others online now without being told we're overreacting and making a big deal out of nothing. and i see people who i thought were allies reblogging and laughing about this kinda stuff. and it just really feels like it's hard to trust abled people. it feels like every time i think i can trust a neurotypical person, they turn on us. and sometimes i just feel like cutting off any neurotypical people altogether, even though i know realistically there are some good allies out there. it just feels like there are so few

idk just feels bad man. we really can't catch a break can we

[sotwk]

Hi! I saw you mention that you have some headcanons about why Celebrían left Middle-earth. I'd love to hear them if you want to share them! I love hearing people's headcanons about her 💕 — @emyn-arnens

The Fate of Celebrían

According to the "Sons of the Woodland King" AU

In the SotWK AU, Celebrían is perhaps the most beloved friend of Thranduil's wife, Elvenqueen Maereth (more info on that here), so she is a significant supporting character in the stories I have planned for the Greenwood royal family. (She's already appeared in a couple of my fics, if you look closely.)

Canon details are sparse when it comes to Celebrían's abduction, torture, and passing over the Sea. Here are the headcanons I have developed to fill in the blanks of the "how's" and "why's":

Content warning: Brief but non-graphic discussions of violence, torture, and character death.

SotWK Fancast: Connie Nielsen as Celebrían ("older" version)

The Abduction and Attack

Celebrían was not alone when she was abducted by the orcs at the Redhorn Pass. Besides having the strong escort of Rivendell guards, her cousin Nimeithel (oc, younger sister of Nimloth and niece of Celeborn) was with her.

The attack was not random; Celebrían was specifically targeted by these orcs under the orders of Sauron himself. Hurting her was a strategic blow to two of the Dark Lord's most hated and feared enemies: Galadriel and Elrond. However, there is reason to believe that Sauron hated and feared the power and light of the Lady of Imladris herself.

Nimeithel and half the escort were killed fighting in the initial ambush, while the rest were incapacitated.

The orcs took special care to immediately drug and weaken Celebrían, for they wanted to keep her alive but also prevent her from using the powers they feared her to have. They were afraid of her, except they feared Sauron more.

Poisoned and bound, Celebrían was certainly physically tortured to the brink of death, but what has been less mentioned is the emotional/psychological torture of the orcs methodically torturing and killing her friends one by one in front of her.

The Rescue and Aftermath

Celebrían was found on the third day of her abduction which, all things considered, was a swift rescue. But by the time her sons Elladan and Elrohir got to her, unspeakable damage had been done. She was also the sole survivor of the travel party.

Needless to say, not a single one of those orcs made it out alive either, as the wrath of the Peredhil fell upon them.

As has been canonically stated, Elrond succeeded in healing his wife of all physical injuries she sustained. Additional help came from Galadriel and Elvenqueen Maereth. Within weeks, Celebrían's body was healthy again, albeit scarred.

In regards to how she "lost all delight in Middle-earth", I think this is most commonly interpreted as an unshakable and deadly depression. My AU's take however, is that Celebrían felt herself becoming overwhelmed not by grief and despair, but by bitterness and hatred and rage.

The experience did not leave Celebrían weepy and quailing, but angry, vengeful, and vindictive--a very far cry from her peaceful, compassionate self.

The Decision to Leave

Celebrían had always been spiritually strong and very "emotionally intelligent" (high E.Q.); arguably more so than even Elrond. She was quick to realize that her heart and the core of her personality had been compromised and irreversibly damaged.

Memories and nightmares of her abduction plagued her, and despite her best efforts, she could barely contain their effects on her behavior and demeanor. She became prone to angry outbursts, sullen and withdrawn, and tempted by violent thoughts and fantasies.

Elladan and Elrohir, the children most closely bonded to her, were most affected by this, and it drove their unquenchable hatred towards orcs for the rest of their lives, long after their mother departed.

With her intuition and foresight, Celebrían saw that the growing darkness inside her that she could not restrain would only poison the rest of her family (parents, husband, children), if they continued to watch her suffer and struggle.

She knew they all had very important parts to play in the coming battles and the final stand against the Dark Lord, and she refused to distract them or become a hindrance to their destinies.

Celebrían made the difficult decision to ask Elrond to let her sail to the Blessed Realm, where she would be incapable of hurting or adversely influencing anyone, and where she could rest and wait for him in peace.

At first Elrond could not bring himself to let his beloved wife go, but Galadriel's counsel about the future and advice to trust Celebrían's judgement eventually convinced him.

Elladan and Elrohir had to be persuaded by their mother NOT to sail with her, but both vowed that they "will see her again", hinting that they had already decided on their own fates.

Celebrían consoled her grieving family by telling them that in staying, they will "know the joy of seeing Hope reborn"--her foretelling of Aragorn's birth 400 years later.

Thank you for the thoughtful Ask, @emyn-arnens! <3 I loved sharing these with you and I am honored you care to know about my headcanons/AU.

I have many happier ones about our beloved Lady of Imladris, including how powerful and skilled and talented she was, and her tremendous influence and contributions to the foundation and growth of the Last Homely House. Not to discredit Elrond or anything, but I refuse to believe that was all just HIS doing. :)

For more SotWK AU headcanons: SotWK HC Masterlist

Elves HC Tag List: Tags be added in comments temporarily while Tumblr tags are malfunctioning.

[screamingcrows]

Taken Care of - Cyno x fem reader

Note: Never let me live down that my first piece of fanfiction (not counting the awful slow burn Sylvanas x Jaina from Warcraft I made as a 13 year old) was for Cyno more than a year ago for the explicit purpose of cracking a joke. I've since edited a bit, and felt like uploading it here to have my writing in one spot, consider this an updated version. Tags: fem!reader, crackfic, pun so bad I got hate anons, reader is a student, reader has a dendro vision, established relationship, suggestive at the end, fluff

It was your first time venturing further into the desert than Aaru village, and you had honestly been dreading this trip ever since it became clear that you would have to go on it. The scorching heat made you wish that you could've either kept your mouth shut or at the very least swallowed your pride and backed out. 

All you had wanted to do, was pick a poorly understood subject for your thesis. Not an unreasonable wish by any means. Being an Amurta student, you'd practically had your ears cried full of withering zones and the different families of fungi. And you'd had enough of that, not wanting to spend your entire life studying some obscure detail just for your research to be 'new'. 

So you'd pitched an idea to your supervisor, you wanted to investigate what effect proximity to an oasis had on the evolutionary path of scarabs. After some bickering back and forth, they had agreed to let you pursue this, but under the condition that you were willing to change subject if you'd made no substantial progress within two months. It had now been one month and the only discovery you'd made was, that the literature on scarabs, or anything from the desert really, was sparse at best.

That's how you ended here, boots full of sand, dry skin, probably a good sunburn, and more than a little bitter. But samples wouldn't collect themselves, and a field trip was the only way around your lack of reference material. You rubbed at your tired eyes, regretting it immediately when sand got into them. 

At least Cyno had offered to escort you, not liking the thought of anyone else being responsible for your safety. Of course, as soon as rumor spread that the General Mahamatra was taking leave to escort a student around the desert, you were met with more than a little malice from your peers. You'd done what you could to keep the relation subtle, but avoiding all suspicion was impossible. 

The first morning out of Aaru village you woke to an unfamiliar sight. What appeared to be a mercenary standing with their back towards you, Cyno's jackal helmet laying discarded in the sand.

"What did you do to the white haired man? Speak, or I will set you ablaze!" Your voice shook more than what you'd have like as you scrambled to get up, it would have to do.

"A single night, and already my precious flower has turned into a cactus" 

As always, Cyno's voice was even, but you had known him far too long to not notice the subtle hint of amusement in his tone. When he turned to face you, the satisfied smirk he wore only fueled your annoyance at his antics.

"And what would you have done if I decided to attack first and ask questions later?"

"My flower, you have a dendro vision... Explain to me how you plan on charring me? Regardless, I do feel confident in my ability to dodge a sleepy student in uneven terrain." 

"Fine. Just warn me before you pull such a tasteless prank again" 

"This? No.. I.. I mean... I heard what they were saying behind your back. This way, you can say that your escort was just another mercenary." 

You noticed a light flush across his cheeks, and with that all your irritation dissipated. 

The second day went smoothly, Cyno surprisingly being able to guide you to many groupings of scarabs, sheepishly explaining that he had always found them fascinating.

By the third day in the dunes, you were both tired. Cyno kept insisting that he would keep watch for most of the night so that you could be well rested for your fieldwork. He was undoubtedly hiding the exhaustion better than you, but the slight drag of his feet as you walked towards the next observation spot gave him away. 

That and how he had been cursing at his hair for getting in his eyes all morning. You couldn't help but giggle at the memory of the oh-so-dignified General Mahamatra fumbling about in the morning sun, swatting at his hair while threatening to cut it off unless it behaved. He had undoubtedly thought you asleep.

"If you have breath to spare on laughing, we should be going faster" his voice sounded like he had been inhaling sand instead of air. You couldn't help the whine that left your lips at the thought of your already tired legs picking up the pace.

"Cyno, I'm just a feeble scholar, I wasn't made for field work"

This statement caused him to stop dead in his tracks and turn around with a wicked grin.

"Really? Because in my experience-" 

You cut him off by slapping a hand over his mouth, already knowing his next words. A small shiver crept down your spine feeling how dry his lips had become. Looking into his eyes, his exhaustion became increasingly clear to you. He'd been working himself half to death before going with you, and this clearly wasn't the break you had hoped it would be for him.

"We are stopping at the next oasis we reach. Research be damned, I need a rest,"

Convincing him to stop was easier than you'd imagined. The determination in your voice having no doubt helped, even if he didn't know the underlying reason for the sudden outburst. You plopped down with your back against a palm, closing your eyes and relishing in the shade the overhanging leaves provided. As you opened your eyes, a deep frown settled on your lips, there your idiot was, standing guard in the sun. 

Gently pressing a hand to the trunk behind you, you decided to not give him the opportunity of refusing a rest. The roots sprung to life and crept towards your beloved General. In one fell swoop they wrapped around his ankles and pulled, causing him to fall to the ground. He merely let out an exasperated groan and did his best to flip onto his back to avoid getting a mouthful of sand. 

As he came to rest with his head in your lap the roots gently untangled themselves from his golden skin and disappeared back into the sandy ground. You wasted no time gaining access to his white mane of hair as you started gently scratching at his scalp. Cyno practically purred at the action, letting his eyes remain closed, it was almost obscene to watch as his face contorted until a peaceful expression finally settled in his features. 

"You are a wicked, wicked woman," he couldn't fight the smile on his lips even as he tried to sound stern. Your only response was a soft kiss to his cheek, only serving to have him melt further into your soft form. 

"If anyone sneaks up on us I am blaming you," this time his tone was more serious, but with the sleepy expression on his face you only rolled your eyes at him and mumbled a quick apology.

"Worry not General, I'll keep watch while you rest" as you gave him a final pat on the head, you moved to get up, only to be met with Cyno holding you down with an impressive amount of strength given his state. A hand snaked up your body and closed around one of your breasts, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Don't go, it seems we have plenty of securi-titty"

You sat back down in utter shock, remaining completely quiet as you tried to process the words that had left his mouth.

"Ahem. You see, I took the words security and ti-" You cut him off with a loud snort followed by laughter.

"It seems you will be to blame if we are ambushed General," Your amused tone made his ears take on a reddish tint. Cyno looked up at you with eyes full of adoration.

"For this, I am willing to take the chance of being caught unaware" 

He grabbed your hips and pulled until you were laying next to each other. After a little while in silence, Cyno's breathing evened out as he fell into a light sleep. A content sigh passed your lips as you settled against him, satisfied with the outcome. 

[growingstories]

Part 2: All inclusive

Meet Jacob, a handsome 23-year-old personal trainer who works in a luxurious 5-star hotel in Chicago. His most regular client is Alexander, the hotel's general manager and heir to a prominent hospitality group.

Alexander, an extremely fit and attractive 32-year-old, is known for his love of expensive and tailor-made clothing. He has a and friendly generous personality, always treating everyone in the hotel with kindness. Little does Jacob know, he has developed a crush on Alexander.

Their daily routine consists of Jacob training Alexander every day. begin They their mornings with a run, after which Jacob attends to other clients until lunchtime. During Alexander's lunch break, Jacob provides him with a workout thorough.

Months pass by, and Jacob begins to notice a change in Alexander's appearance. Due to Alexander's frequent travels for resort openings in the Caribbean, his visits to the hotel and sessions with Jacob become infrequent. On one occasion, Alexander confesses to Jacob that he has struggled to maintain his fitness routine and proper diet while away.

After two months, Jacob's suspicions are confirmed when he a sees noticeable layer of fat on Alexander's body. It turns out that Alexander had gained 18 pounds of fat. Determined to help his client get back in shape, Jacob contacts the chef at the Caribbean resorts and requests a balanced diet for Alexander while he is traveling.

In the beginning, Alexander sends Jacob pictures of his workouts and healthy meals, showing his dedication to the plan. However, as the weeks pass and the opening of the resorts approaches, communication becomes sparse due to Alexander's busy schedule.

Taking advantage of this period, Jacob focuses on building muscle for himself, as he no longer needs to run with Alexander.

Another two months go by, and Jacob is astonished when he weighs Alexander again. Not only did Alexander gain 20 pounds of muscle, but there was also an additional 25 pounds of fat. It is clear that Alexander had not adhered to the plan.

Seeing that Alexander was genuinely bothered by his weight gain, Jacob devises a grueling workout and diet plan. Alex follows it diligently six for months and successfully loses the unwanted weight.

Impressed with Jacob's dedication and effectiveness, Alexander calls him into his office. As Alex changes, his newly transformed body looks incredible. He makes Jacob an enticing offer: for the next year, Jacob would be a secret guest in all the new resorts. All expenses would be covered, allowing him to experience everything the hotels have to offer.

Unable to resist such an opportunity, Jacob agrees. He will be required to return to Chicago every six weeks to provide reports of his experiences, along with weekly email updates. In addition, after the year is over, an even better position at the hotel group will be offered to Jacob.

Arrived at his first hotel he found out that he had a big room at the club level, that means not only all inclusive restaurants but also endless snacks and room service. The hotel was amazing and all the experiences of the hotel were good. The staff was friendly and it had all the facilities he needs. He was very serious about his reportings every week. He thought of many ideas that could be implemented in the future.

As the first days went by he did get in good workouts. With a little bit improving the hotel gym would be an amazing facility for the hotels healthfreaks.

He remembered the name of the chef and asked him to prepare a full meal schedule for the coming 6 weeks. He lied to the chef when asked about the purpose of his long trip. He told him he was on a long leave to think about his future plans and bulk up his muscles as a marketing tool for potential private clients.

He became friends with the chef that. The chef told everyone behind his back that Jacob knows the general manager very well. This meant that the rest of the weeks during his stay went well. All the staff members made sure he had an amazing stay.

After the 6th week he went back to Chicago for his first report. He mentioned the friendly staff and the amazing hospitality he received. He gave some good ideas to the marketing department and prepared his next trip. He asked the chef to ask his colleague in the next resort to prepare a 6 week diet program.

Of course, the chef informed his colleague about the fact that Jacob and the general manager were well acquainted. Upon arriving at the next resort, he realized that he was receiving even better service than before. This particular resort was perfect for health enthusiasts like Jacob, with an amazing gym and staff who knew how to cater to demanding health-conscious guests.

Jacob could really focus on improving his physique and gaining muscle. In the first hotel, he managed to bulk up by 20lbs. Over the course of the following 6 weeks, he gained an additional 30lbs of muscle. Jacob spent as much time as possible in the gym, even earning some extra cash by offering tips and workout plans to interested hotel guests. He also assisted the staff in creating balanced diet plans for the guests.

The progress meeting went well, and everyone was pleased to hear positive feedback about the first two resorts. They had even seen favorable online reviews about the hotel's hospitality, which motivated Jacob even more.

The third hotel was a bit different. The chef had a more traditional approach, and the guests were generally older. The atmosphere was quieter, so Jacob focused solely on his fitness goals. The food was good, but not specifically designed for health enthusiasts like him. He decided that a little bit of extra fat would be acceptable to bulk up faster. Therefore, he started lifting heavier weights and consuming more calories. After 6 weeks, he had gained about 18lbs of muscle and fat. Although his abs were still visible, they were not as defined due to the added fat. He felt a bit isolated at this hotel, so he was eager to leave after the 6 weeks.

The progress meeting went well, and Jacob began preparing for his next trip. He attempted to have his chef friend connect him with the fourth chef, but unfortunately, this was not successful. The fourth resort was enormous and had an impersonal approach to guest relations. However, the resort itself was incredible, with a casino, a massive spa, and five restaurants. As it was located on a private island, there was minimal opportunity to leave. Jacob decided it was time for some relaxation. On his first night, he explored the hotel and dined at two of the restaurants, enjoying excellent food that aligned with his own dietary plan.

The next morning, he was slightly disappointed by the gym at the resort. It was one area that had not undergone a proper renovation. Nevertheless, he did his best to make the most of the equipment available, knowing he would have to be resourceful in this gym.

The first week went by, and Jacob was able to truly unwind and recharge. Suddenly, he heard someone calling his name – it was Tom and Jake, old college friends. They still looked as attractive as ever. He explained his job to them and they invited Jacob to join their boys' trip. Both Tom and Jake had recently ended their relationships and were looking to escape their heartbreak..

The three muscular guys started drinking and partying at the bars in the restaurants, which Jacob rarely did. That night, Jacob discovered the endless supply of snacks and room service at his club-level room. They eagerly joined him, and for the next three weeks, was a it blur - hangovers cured by greasy breakfasts and more beer, and the cash he earned in his previous hotel was gambled away in casino.

They also discovered the that spa offered great discounts for club-level guests, so they often went there to massage away their headaches. The spa manager, a handsome 22-year-old guy named Matthew, caught Jacob's attention.

They chatted, but their interaction was limited due to house rules forbidding staff members from meeting up with guests. However, Matthew managed to get Jacob and his friends even more discounts, and they saw each other almost every day during that week.

Matthew overheard some conversations among the three guys, but couldn't make sense of them yet. After his friends left, Jacob continued to indulge in the endless supply of snacks and his eating habits changed overnight from healthy to comfort food. He also stopped using the gym frequently, only occasionally working out his arms or chest. On the last day of his stay, he stepped the scale and on was shocked to discover that he had gained 30lbs of fat. He loved time with his friends but regretted what his followed. How could he get back to his routine like this?

During the report meeting he suggested that a more personal approach would help customer satisfaction and revenue increase. With that in mind, he moved on to the fourth resort, a boutique resort near a city. While everything was arranged for him - including a nice little rooftop pool, a trendy bar, and nearby restaurants - there was no available. This hindered Jacob from restarting his fitness routine. He had a personal driver who took him everywhere, and every aspect of his stay was taken care of, from breakfast in his room to cultural trips and visits to the beach. Each night, the bar was filled with young people, and after pacing himself in the beginning, Jacob eventually started having late-night drinks too. Since the resort was relatively small, he decided to shorten his stay to four weeks.

During the report meeting back in Chicago, they appreciated Jacob's feedback about personal guest experiences and came up with a pilot program. They wanted Jacob to test it out at the fifth resort and see what improvements could be made. Upon arrival, Jacob was pleasantly surprised to see Matthew again. He heard about the pilot program and as applied a relations manager guest. This meant that Matthew would become Jacob's personal butler for the next six weeks.

Jacob hoped to separate his feelings for Matthew, as professionalism of utmost importance. However was, Matthew ensured that Jacob had everything he needed, from unpacking his suitcase to placing a bottle of champagne in his. room Every morning, he brought Jacob breakfast took care of his and lunch and dinner preferences. He also became a nice companion as, the solitude of hotel life was starting to get to Jacob. After two weeks, Jacob offered Matthew a glass of champagne, explaining that he needed a friend that night as he missed his friends after much time traveling. Matthew didn't want to hurt Jacob's feelings, so he accepted the offer. What started one as drink turned into two, and three bottles. They both ended drunk. Matthew confessed that he had fallen in love with Jacob the moment they met, but he wanted to maintain professionalism. He also mentioned that he knew about Jacob being a secret guest.

The next morning, Jacob and Matthew woke up with major hangovers, promising each other not to tell anyone about what happened. Matthew went straight to work and ordered a huge breakfast for Jacob, bringing in snacks all day. Everywhere Jacob went, Matthew made sure he had something to eat and drink, whether it was lunch at the beach, cocktails on the terrace, or snacks in the room.

One night, Jacob started to complain about his weight and showed Matthew pictures of himself from a year ago. Surprisingly, Matthew told him that he didn't want Jacob to lose weight because he found him gorgeous as he was. Jacob was taken aback since he felt unattractive at that point. However, he thought to himself, "Yeah, okay, I may be manly, strong, and big." Matthew expressed his desire to gain muscle, confessing that he struggled to gain weight no matter what he tried. Jacob saw an opportunity to help him and suggested a deal - he would continue his stay at the resort for another 10 weeks, four at the current resort and six at the last one, with one week of report meetings in between. In return, Jacob would not lose weight, but he would push Matthew to reach a goal weight of 40lbs. Matthew accepted the challenge, thinking that even if he couldn't reach the goal, he would make Jacob as big as possible to make it harder for him to lose weight.

Jacob wrote a rigorous program of workouts and meals for Matthew. The four weeks in the fifth resort were incredible, as they did everything together. Matthew made sure Jacob had enough fattening snacks, and Jacob continuously ordered protein-rich food for Matthew. As Jacob's personal butler, Matthew accompanied him everywhere.

During the fifth report meeting, Jacob enthusiastically shared his experience with having a personal guest relations manager and expressed his desire to have the same arrangement in the last resort. They agreed to his request.

The sixth and final resort was a dream - an all-inclusive paradise. Jacob had grown so big that he doubted he would ever return to his fit days. Stepping on the scale, he discovered that he weighed 362lbs, effectively doubling his weight since he first started working as a fitness trainer for Alexander.

Matthew did everything in his power to prevent Jacob from getting fit again. He adhered to the program Jacob created and constantly stuffed himself, even when he was already full or tired. Jacob ensured that Matthew reached his daily calorie goals, making it a painful intake and stressful endeavor. Nevertheless, both of them were excited for the last day - would Matthew reach his goal? 

All of a sudden Jacob panicked, what will Alexander think of his new shape? What will his new in the company be? 

[larsisfrommars]

The Night of The Murderous Spring Is So JUICY!

I think I need to talk about how insanely gay this episode of Wild Wild West is or I might EXPLODE. I know a lot of us who already watch the show knew this episode was ridiculous in the gay subtext department but I feel compelled to go in-depth about putting it into words.

Let’s not even dig into the fact that before drugging Jim Dr. Loveless proudly proclaims that he will make James West “kill the thing he loves” and was referring to Artemus when he said that! That’s already wild enough as it is.

For me like, through a shipping/gay subtext lense, I could already tell Artie was into Jim. There is a mountain of evidence to interpret their relationship that way at least on Gordon’s end. For West it was a little more sparse until and especially THIS episode. Which confirmed for me as relatively new to this show and fandom “ohhhh!! He really DOES reciprocate whatever ambiguously gay mess is happening here!”

The version of Artemus that Jim subconsciously conjures up for himself is so interesting. And of course, it appears to him when he’s in desperate need of comfort, of a rock to cling to, but can find none. So his hallucinating brain projects what he NEEDS most, not some lovely young lady (familiar or otherwise) to tell him everything is alright, but Artemus to take care of him. He WANTS to be taken care of and comforted by Artemus and no one else. I’m not crying YOU are crying!

His version of Artemus is pretty close to the real deal but there’s something… softer about this projected version. He’s not completely different, I wouldn’t even say out-of-character. But he is gentler, more patient and forgiving, and very much there to play guardian angel for Jim. All of his positive traits are exaggerated in Jim’s eyes, like hes always seeing the guy through rose colored glasses.

I say this because part of why I got a bit suspicious of this version of Artie was him being way too calm and forgiving when Jim starts being aggressive towards him due to the drug. Yeah Artie loves Jim but like, he’s got his own sense of self-preservation, intelligence, and a bit of a temper. I was expecting a joke or some sternness or something, hell maybe taking Jim’s gun from him. But of course he doesn’t and he can’t, because he’s not real and he’s there to comfort. Jim can’t be thrown off the course that’ll lead him to killing Artie by his hallucination’s own intervention. He’s himself but oh so slightly off.

Another thing was something that “Artie” said that didn’t actually make a lot of sense compared to the rest of established canon when Jim first starts getting temperamental. “Hey it’s me remember? Artemus Gordon? Mrs. Gordon’s son.” Now I know there’s probably some throwaway Doylist explanation for this, but the Watsonian in me prevails.

Artie never brings up either of his parents before this or ever again to my knowledge. Jim only mentions family once in a previous Dr. Loveless episode. It’s the kind of thing you’d say to someone where you’d known each other your whole lives, implying Jim would somehow know his mother. Now unless I’m mistaken they met each other in the military as adults. Which means Jim’s subconscious emotions have made him feel as though Artie’s known him his whole life. Which is some soulmate sounding mess if I ever heard it.

Then there is the crescendo of this madness where Jim shoots the illusionary Artemus in cold blood. Which is easily some of the most heartbreaking acting in the series. I have watched it a normal amount of times (lying)!! Dying “Artie” looks confused and betrayed but he STILL reaches out to Jim like he like wants Jim to know that it’s okay?! OUCH. Then of course there’s the little “why?” before he dies that pushes Jim over the edge.

Jim completely flies off the handle after Artemus’s apparent death. Careening through the street, threatening the hotel staff, trying to get himself arrested for murdering Artie. I don’t know whether it was a side effect of how much hallucinogen he ingested or what. He straight up faints like some tragic Victorian protagonist after returning to his room, overwhelmed by the evil that he has seemingly done.

When he comes back around he is not at all acting like the Jim we know and love. It’s almost like he wants Loveless to kill him with the way he goads the guy. He’s despondent and jaded and being reckless with his own life. He only snaps back to normal when he discovers Artie is in fact alive and well. Which is such a beautifully loaded reunion. He responds to Jim’s unusual tenderness with a sassy joke (which is of course how we know this one is real). It feels very akin to the Kirk and Spock reunion at the end of Amok Time.

I also think it’s worth noting that I think the first time I ever heard James West utter the words “Artie! Help me!” when he’s trying to prevent the ducks carrying the murder-LSD from being released (this episode is NUTS). Which you know in light of the events of this episode is a big step in Jim being a bit more vulnerable as a character. So there is THAT too.

Hey, and maybe it’s just me, but whether it was deliberate or not, something changed about the whole tone of the show after this particular episode. It felt like the showrunners were slowly having it dawn on them the show is at its strongest when it plays off of the bond shared by these two characters. This episode along a few other gems from season one seem to have clinched it. I noticed in season two so far they’re using Artie and Jim’s relationship as a support beam where it was more of a flexible suggestion before. Which has ✨implications✨ whether you interpret the relationship as gay or not. The events of this episode cracked Jim West’s very hard shell, and made these two characters closer than before.

[lemony-snickers]

@sugarkage - ficti-gram for you!

to: @sugarkage from: @gothamkunoichi message: hi sugarkage, thanks for being a good buddy around here! 💙 sending this to cheer you up if you need a small surprise. characters/pairing: kakashi hatake/fem!reader word count: 2,506 prompt: the smell of coffee

Kakashi Hatake had never been as much of a morning person as others might assume.  A misunderstanding which could be forgiven since all his adult life, he had been forced by necessity to rise with (and sometimes before) the sun.

Konoha’s Self-Defense Forces did not take kindly to oversleeping.  And now, well retired from that life and struggling to find his footing in a new one, Kakashi’s alarm still rang out before five o’clock each morning.  And when he inevitably hit the snooze button, he was immediately assaulted by the hot, sticky tongue of his pug Pakkun, who knew damn well the alarm meant it was time for a walk and the walk meant when he got home, he would be fed.

“Fine, fine, I’m up,” Kakashi said, shoving Pakkun’s wet snout from his cheek.  The dog huffed a muffled bark against his owner’s palm and then sailed off the bed far more gracefully than should have been possible before Kakashi heard the familiar clicking of his blunted nails against the wood floor, heading in the direction of the front door before Kakashi was even out from beneath the covers.

Kakashi groaned, running his hands over his face before remembering the wet of Pakkun’s nose on his left palm and pulling it away in thinly veiled distaste.

Whoever had told him that a dog would help with his depression was a goddamn liar.  Depressed people needed sleep, not early morning walks to pick up piles of shit from the curb.

Still, Kakashi kicked the blankets away and stumbled into the adjoining bathroom so he could wash his hands first and his face second, hoping the act might prepare him, however slightly, for the day ahead.  As he patted his damp skin—jawline prickly with stubble, which he would need to shave between Pakkun’s walk and his commute to work—Kakashi’s tired eyes took in his reflection with a flat, detached stare.

His dark eyes stood out like a shock against his pale skin, the blood vessels of the left permanently dilated, giving the white of his eye a sickly pink appearance.  The scar which bisected the lids seemed stark and dark in the pre-dawn light, a jagged reminder of why he no longer served in the KSDF.

Before he could tumble any further down the rabbit hole of his past, Pakkun appeared in the doorway to the bathroom clutching his leash between his teeth and growling faintly.

Despite the early hour and the dark memories clouding his thoughts, Kakashi couldn’t help but laugh as the pug stomped his tiny feet impatiently.  The effect was less than intimidating, and looked more like a stuttered dance than the act of irritation it was apparently meant to be.  Perhaps the dog suggestion hadn’t been such a useless one, after all.

Kakashi neglected to grab a jacket on his way out of the apartment, which he regretted as soon as the sharp sting of cool air met his skin when he stepped through the front door of his building.  He was too lazy to go back inside and up three flights to retrieve one, though, afraid if he made it back to the relative safety of his apartment he would never leave again.

And anyway, Pakkun—small as he was—seemed unlikely to allow such a detour without more fight than Kakashi wanted to put up with.

“All right,” he said, shoving his free hand into the pocket of his sweatpants and glancing down at the pug at his feet, tongue lolling happily from one side of his mouth, “Let’s go.”

Konoha was quiet this time of morning, with only a sparse few littering the streets.  He nodded and smiled and mumbled a half-hearted, “Good morning,” as familiar faces greeted him when he passed.  The man at the bakery, the woman always jogging with wrist weights on, had all become fixtures of Kakashi’s daily routine, even if he still thought they were all insane for willingly rising before the sun.

Pakkun, for his part, enjoyed himself immensely, as he always did, sniffing every tree and hydrant and telephone pole, peeing on those he deemed worthy, and barking quietly at those that didn’t smell the way he wanted them to.  Kakashi was content to let the pug explore, turning around in circles as he tried to identify all the various smells attached to any one place or item.

Kakashi thought the life of a dog sounded rather nice, actually.  Sleep half the day, have someone else feed you and pick up your shit, smell all the stuff you want.  Not bad.

He was trying to hold back a yawn when a new sign caught Kakashi’s eye.  It was lit brightly, a happy green neon thing he’d never noticed before.  It took a few moments to register that the café—which is what the place was now, or so he assumed based on the name Bean & Button—must be new; the storefront until recently had been papered over from inside.  Once a fabric shop, it had been closed for months with no indication of renovations.

Apparently, though, the paper had been hiding a secret all the while and Kakashi frowned, surprised he hadn’t noticed.

When he tugged Pakkun in the direction of the café, the pug bit down on his leash and growled, trying to hold his ground.

“Come on, Pakkun,” Kakashi sighed, “I let you sniff that last tree for ten minutes, the least you can do is let me get a coffee.”

Pakkun relented, but not without a last yip of irritable half-defiance.

When Kakashi pushed the door open, he was greeted by soft overhead lights and the sound of gentle folk music—guitars strumming carefully beneath the sweet voice of a woman recalling some lost love.

He’d never been inside the fabric shop when it was still in business, and Kakashi took in his surroundings with a keen eye for all the details that remained from that recent past—dress dummies in one corner with pins for sale stuck into their burlap bodies, one draped in a t-shirt with the new cafés logo of a coffee bean and a blue button emblazoned on the front.  An antique sewing machine stood behind the wooden bar that provided coffee stirrers, lids, sugars, and milks for personalizing your beverage.

“Good morning!”

Kakashi’s eyes flicked from the sewing machine milk bar to the front counter, which had also clearly been at least partially salvaged from the shop’s original purpose—the wood was too old, the upholstered top lush and out of place.  A pane of glass had been cut to fit over it so no spilled drinks would stain the fabric beneath.

“Morning,” he said, dragging his gaze from the counter to the woman behind it.  She beamed at him far too brightly for such an early hour.

“First time?” she asked kindly.  He nodded.  “Take your time,” she said, pointing to the large board behind her with a hand drawn menu.  His eyes widened a fraction when he realized how many options he had to choose from.  Everything from plain drip coffee to a French press brew or pour over to fancy cappuccinos and macchiatos and other drinks he was pretty sure were wholly made up.

One entire section offered smoothies with punny sewing-themed names—Greens Silk, Blind Hemp, Pep-Plum.  Kakashi grimaced, most of the jokes rather cringe-worthy.  His attention was drawn away a moment later when Pakkun sniffed the base of the counter and barked.  Kakashi shushed him, offering the barista a brief apology as he tugged him away.  “Sorry, is it okay I brought him in?”

His head swiveled, looking for any indication one way or the other as to the café’s pet policy and finding none.

She smiled again, “Of course!”  She reached under the counter and when her hand reappeared it was with a small dog treat in hand.  “He probably just sniffed one of these from our last canine customer.”  She smirked as Pakkun barked again, short tail waging furiously as he stared at the treat clutched between her fingers.  She tossed it over the counter and Pakkun nearly dislocated Kakashi’s shoulder as he barreled toward it, scarfing it from the distressed wooden floor without an ounce of hesitation.

The barista gasped and when Kakashi looked back at her, she was covering her mouth with both hands.  “I’m so sorry!  I should have asked you first!” she said.  Or, at least, he thought that’s what she said.  It was rather difficult to hear her voice while it was caged by both palms.

Kakashi chuckled, offering her a small smile.  “It’s quite all right.  If anything, you’ve saved me the trouble of having to try to explain we’re out of tr—” he stopped short when Pakkun’s ears lifted at the start of the word and corrected course, “t-r-e-a-t-s,” he spelled, “once we get home.”

That seemed to reassure her, and her hands fell back to the countertop, head falling forward in relief as she sighed.  “Thank goodness.”

Kakashi stepped up to the counter and she met his gaze with a relieved smile.  “Figured out what you want?”

He smiled ruefully.  “I’m afraid I’m a little boring,” he said, “One large black coffee, please.”

Despite the lack of flair to his order, the barista brightened immediately, “Coming right up!”

Kakashi waited while she poured his coffee into a paper to-go cup, pulling his wallet from the pocket of his sweatpants—grateful he’d remembered to bring it this morning, since it tended to be a fifty-fifty chance on any given day he would.

“Here you are!” she said, sliding the cup across the glass.  “If you need any sugar or milk, they’re over on the counter there,” she pointed toward the old sewing machine.

“Thanks,” Kakashi said, though he knew he wouldn’t need either.

She rang him up and he paid, and they exchanged pleasantries as he turned to leave, forgoing a lid as he and Pakkun stepped back out onto the street.  The smell of the coffee wafted up to his nose as he was met with the bracing cold once more, and Kakashi let his eyes slide closed as he savored the scent, grateful for the warmth of the cup in his hand.

He blew across the surface before he brought the paper rim to his mouth and took his first sip, humming in satisfaction as it tricked down his throat, carving a path of warmth through his entire body as he swallowed.

Kakashi might have stayed there the rest of the day, standing on the sidewalk outside of Bean & Button savoring his beverage, had Pakkun not rudely headbutted his calf.

“Fine, fine,” he said, “let’s go home and get you fed.”

The café became a fixture of their morning walks after that.  The following day, Pakkun dragged Kakashi rather unceremoniously toward the front door and raced to the front counter where he barked, looking expectantly up at the same barista, who laughed and tossed him a treat.

“They never forget, do they?” she asked.

Kakashi shook his head.  “They certainly don’t.”

“Same thing today, or are you feeling adventurous?”

Kakashi nearly blushed at the teasing lilt of her voice, but managed to hide his somewhat embarrassed smile behind a cough.  He glanced up at the menu, vision nearly blurring as he was assaulted with the too-large selection of options, before he answered,  “Same, please.  Thanks.”

And so it went every morning.  Alarm, walk, treat, coffee; alarm, walk, treat, coffee.

Kakashi always took too long to stare at the intimidating menu, always ordered the same plain black coffee.  Pakkun always barked for a treat, always immediately tried to tug Kakashi back outside as soon as he licked the final crumbs of it from the floor.

Slowly, over the course of several weeks and then months, Kakashi realized he no longer hit the snooze button first thing.  Sometimes, in fact, he actually woke before his alarm, a thing which had only happened before when he had a particularly vicious nightmare or when Pakkun was in distress of some kind.

In fact, Kakashi found his steps felt lighter in the morning, his smile more genuine when he greeted those he passed.

It was not until one particularly cold morning in early February—after he had wrestled Pakkun very unwillingly into a sweater and matching mittens on his paws as a ward against the faint dusting of snow outside—that Kakashi finally understood the change.

Because as he stepped through the door of Bean & Button, he looked up to find the woman behind the counter already smiling as she set a steaming cup before her.  He approached the counter with a small, curious smile on his mouth and peered into the cup as she tossed Pakkun’s treat over the counter.

“What’s this?” he asked, glancing up to meet her sparkling eyes.

“One large black coffee to go,” she said, lips pulled into an equally amused grin.  “Figured I’d save you the trouble of pretending to peruse the menu today.”

He ducked his head, nearly blushing.  “Am I really so predictable?”

“Maybe,” she said, “or maybe I just pay very close attention.”

Kakashi hummed, paying for his drink.  When she took the money from him, their fingers touched and Kakashi felt the faintest zap of electricity, as if he’d walked over a carpeted floor in warm, woolly socks before reaching for a doorknob.  And just like that, the new and unexpected ease of his mornings made sense.

The barista giggled as she handed Kakashi his change.  “Pakkun is looking particularly adorable today.”

Pakkun very clearly disagreed, giving a grumbly huff in reply.

“I don’t think he’s a fan of his winter outfit,” Kakashi said, sneaking a sip of his coffee.  As if to punctuate the assertion, the pug gave another huff and shook his body, ears flapping loudly.

Kakashi’s own ears felt suddenly and utterly attuned to the sound of her laughter—the way it rang in his head, filled his chest with such warmth even the steaming cup of coffee in his hands was no match.  He wanted to linger, wanted to try out this new feeling, see how it settled in his chest, over his shoulders.

He turned to look at her, the way she tucked her mouth behind her hand, and realize it was not the coffee that had made it easier to get out of bed since Bean & Button opened, but the person who made it.

Kakashi waved goodbye and he and Pakkun headed back to their apartment so the pug could shed his abominable winter clothes and his human could get ready for work.  All the while, Kakashi smiled to himself, looking forward to another coffee tomorrow.  To the bright spot in his terrible, too-early routine.

Maybe tomorrow would be the day he finally tried something other than a plain black coffee.  Maybe one day, eventually, he’d invite the pretty woman out from behind the counter to enjoy a coffee with him.

[blackbloodteeth]

13th Sentence Game

@bcbdrums linked me this post (about sharing the 13th sentence from any WIP), and then ended up spurring me into sharing them from all my WIPs. I hope this chaos is what you wanted.

While this is mostly everything, I've skipped some WIPs for reasons such as maybe ending up as potential Resbangs™, but otherwise enjoy this absurdly long list I've put together over the course of like three hours.

You can play along and try to guess what each one's about, if you want hahaha

1, "2021 July 15"* You're sitting up, sweating like crazy, all you can focus on is taking in air.

*Technically my first fic, but it was scrapped. Never really posted it because it's too confusing and now outdated.

2. "2021 Sep 24"* As the previously stated unpredictable behaviour has led to only a small number of assessments on combat, the full extent of his abilities remain undocumented.

*Was originally for an event, but I've considering expanding upon it.

3. "(WIP) TBN" It was like the world here at DWMA was some kind of grand show, and he was just some background character.

4. Inner Strings They all called him the Soul Eater.

5. "be crime do gay" Just. Not like that.

6. Scythes don't make for practical weapons He had no idea if he was going to be able to make friends at all, let alone find a meister, someone willing to accept him for himself and actually be able to use him effectively.

7. "(simple au)" He had an odd combo of red eyes with white hair and tan skin, sharp teeth pulled into a defiant scowl, and a black jacket hunched over a frame that didn't look to understand posture for shit.

8. When Death City snows over "Come on, I doubt it'll actually snow; that shit never happens here."

9. I ain't Feline fine She gets him to stand in the center of the spell zone while instructing Maka to keep behind her, eagerly fixing her hat with her paws before starting.

10. Teeth So he'd take to his now familiar hideaway, a piano tucked away in a sparsely used room.

11. Happy Birthday, Soul Not even Maka.

12. "cursed hall" Given they've gotten to know each other to some degree before now, he was already pretty adjusted to seeing the two other members of this makeshift team: Soul and, well, Soul.

13. It's been a long night for my entire life There was always work to be done and he couldn't wait to get started.

14. One Word* Seeing all those intertwined neighbors, how easily they all sent signals together, that part of him craving to connect and belong made him feel hollow, made him wish he could have that just like everybody else.

*Let it be known that this is the notorious development hell WIP.

15. It was a dark and stormy night Of course with her literary weapon and the sudden jolt of her appearance, the figure seems to have been startled enough to give an auditory following to their jumping back, dull gleaming red blinking wildly back at her tense confusion while- Wait, Soul??

16. Ride by night only [6:19 PM] Kinda with him actually, why are you in a hurry then lol

17. The Very Hungry Soul “Well if the very hungry caterpillar would like to make sure we’re not late, he should hurry up and get dressed before I eat his breakfast for him before it gets cold.”

18. See you on the other side "Soul?"

19. The Dragon and The Moth He’s stopped entirely in his tracks when she abruptly goes in for a hug, snout nuzzling against his chest with a much softened sweetness.

20. Draconic Upon further noting its smooth surface he soon realized it wasn’t a star but in fact some sort of rock, blandly opaque like that of salt despite its odd moonlit shimmers, which even stranger still became steadily see-through in the absorbed heat of his fingertips.

21. "(wings made of arms)" Could it... really be......?

22. The Unknown Caller Caller unknown. But for him that was a lie.

23. The Exchange [8th] "Drink?"

24. Don't Escape Making his way around the back, his eyes glide along the sides until he reaches the pile of small logs, the ax resting up against them exactly as he’d left it.

25. The 42nd Story (Ch. 2)* The muffled talking of a woman, determined to be coming from a nearby room.

*As stated in The Ramble Room, this entire story was scrapped. While I didn't share the second and only other chapter despite it being finished, the first chapter was still shared.

26. "2023july11" He proceeds with actually cleaning himself up, a faint smile keeping him still awake and upright.

27. "(Aug31)" Her smile fades a little as she looks him over, a different sense of intrigue making her face bunch up funnily.

28. "hand pun" Her horrid fascination grew to the point of needing a new name for it (morbid curiosity, that's a classic) as the guy turns the hand around while it signs to him, eyes impossibly wide when she notices the similar skin tone under his hood and the missing space in his left jacket sleeve and the red of his eyes when he suddenly looks directly at her.

29. "WereWeek prompt 3" There's this girl – new student who moved in this year – who is so bossy.

30. "trees"* So much on his mind that he can't hold at bay and he can't even walk about it.

*Technically a small one-shot collection, but it's all going to be in the same fic.

31. "here and now"* His fingers stretch out from his palms in front of the glass, hurriedly ruffling through his hair, his tongue sticking out and then grinning ear-to-ear at her again with all the sunlight in the world.

*My current WIP! It's been slow-going, but I can't wait to see it through to the end haha

The rest are unsorted WIPs in my "drabble zone (2024)" doc:

32. 'Cause you are more than just a dream There's an odd look he pauses on her with after hopping off that she can really only describe as him expecting her to feel like he just sealed her in with a wild animal.

33. "blacksmith au" While his body shown well the signs of having dedicated much of his life to his craft, there was a strange affliction splitting much of it in twain, diagonally from hip to shoulder as if sliced by the very heavens itself in warning.

34. Devils don't go to Heaven (working title) “...Where is this?”

Anything else is so disorganized or only a small handful of sentences that I'm just gonna go ahead and stop it here haha

Thanks for tuning in, hope this was at least entertaining, or possibly even enlightening to the sheer amount of WIPs I've manged to collect over the past few years. I do want to go back to them eventually, but one step at a time, eh?

[poke-me-with-a-stick]

Chapter 22 of 'Artificial Wingman'!

For the full story on AO3, click here!

Enjoy!

---

Jazz giggled quietly to herself, quite amused at the look of disbelief etched into Jason's features. They had already made it to the apartment building he lived in, the man wanting to change into some 'civilian clothes' before they headed for the docks, and Jason still seemed to be reeling over the fact that her brother traveled to another dimension so often that he was beginning to learn how to make his own doorways in and out.

"Is my brother making his own way out of the 'Realms really that much of a shock?" She asked him, stifling another round of giggles as he shoved his hand through his messy curls. "I mean, you're a vigilante, in a world with other heros. Is that sort of thing unusual here?"

It was his turn to be amused. He snorted, letting his hand fall back to his side. "Nah. I mean, we deal with a lot of people, and some have abilities, but none can tear the fabric of reality like it's paper. Well," he paused his hand coming up to rub at the skin just below his domino mask, "except for the speedster. But they usually travel through time, not to different realities." When she raised her eyebrow at him, he corrected himself. "I mean, they can travel to different dimensions, but it's usually pretty difficult for them, and they usually try not to do it often." He explained. "And it's not like we haven't been to other dimension either, we just haven't really been to one that didn't have at least some version of us in it. We've seen and experienced a lot of stuff, but a dimension without the people that make up the Justice League? That's one that hasn't really come up."

"Wow. And I thought our lives were weird." Jazz giggled again, stopping to let Jason open the door for her. His apartment was the same as the last time she had been there, unsurprising considering that she had been there not even a full day ago. The only differences were the still-drying dishes in the dish rack and the faint smell of breakfast hanging in the air.

"Feel free to look around," Jason waved a dismissive hand at his sparsely decorated apartment as he walked past her and down the hall, "just don't touch anything that looks dangerous. I'll only be a minute." With that, he closed what Jazz assumed was his bedroom door, leaving her alone in his home for a second time.

She glanced around the open space, taking in the details that she hadn't noticed the first time she had been here. Now that she wasn't worried sick for her brother, she could admit that she was a bit curious. Jason didn't have a lot of stuff lying around, a few well-cared for books stacked on the end table was the most 'clutter' she could find. The coffee table had coasters, and a small succulent, but was otherwise pretty empty. Part of her wondered if the lack of personal items was a personal preference, or a side effect of being a vigilante. Then again, Danny's room was always a mess, so maybe it was a personal thing.

One thing in the room did catch her eye, however. It wasn't a book, but a picture frame, resting on the window seal. Walking over to it, she crouched down, brushing the intricately carved wood gently with her finger tips. It was smooth and glossy under her touch, worn but strangely pristine. Almost like it hadn't been touched much, besides having been moved around.

Behind the glass in the frame sat an old picture, creases from being folded up paired with ridges and yellowing that came with age. In the photo, there was a very small, scruffy-looking boy that clung to the leg of a woman. The woman herself didn't look to be in the best condition, her clothes baggy on her thin frame and her face slightly gaunt, but there was a loving look in her eyes as she gazed down at the small boy beside her. Despite her ragged appearance, Jazz couldn't help but think that the woman was strangely beautiful, in a weird way.

There was a somewhat bittersweet air that clung to the frame, so strong that even she could feel it, which was odd because sensing emotional imprints was more of Danny's thing than hers.

'Maybe I shouldn't mess with it,' Jazz thought, standing up reluctantly. It felt oddly personal, to be messing with something that was obviously sentimental in some way. So she backed away, leaving it in favor of looking around some more. She peeked at the books he had left out instead, raising her eyebrow at some of them. She really never would have pegged him as a Pride and Prejudice fan, but the more she thought about it, the more it seemed to fit him.

It was only a few minutes later that Jason walked back into the living room, his vigilante gear replaced by a black leather jacket, plain t-shirt, and loose fitting jeans. Slinging a bag over his shoulder, he paused and raised and cocked his head to the side. "Are you a fan of Pride and Prejudice too?" He asked her, walking over and crouching next to the couch where she had sat down.

Jazz nodded. "I read a lot of different things when I was younger. Pride and Prejudice was one of my favorites for a while." She admitted to him, setting the book back on its pile before she stood. "So, are you ready to go?" She asked, offering him her hand.

Jason looked her over for a second before taking her hand. She didn't have to pull him up though, the man standing up on his own. Gripping her hand firmly, he gestured towards the door with his free hand. "Yep. Lead the way," he said, a roguish smirk on his face.

Jazz rolled her eyes at him, but didn't bother protesting as she walked out, pausing to let him lock the door back before pulling him along, down the stairs and out onto the sidewalk. She wasn't quite sure where she was going, but she was pretty sure that this had been the way she came from when she had first gotten here.

Jason let her lead him through Gotham's grimey alleyways, not once protesting. Even though she was pretty sure she took a few wrong turns, and had led them in a circle at least twice. Thankfully, luck was somewhat on her side today, because the pair managed to make it to the warehouse she had left the Speeder in before the sun had a chance to set.

Dropping his hand, Jazz grabbed the edge of a metal cover that replaced one of the warehouse's broken windows. With one heave, the tin was bent upwards enough for her to slide through. The redhead held it open for Jason, waiting for him to slip through before she dropped it, only flinching slightly at the loud rattly bang it made as it slammed back into place.

"It should be in here," she told the man, walking forwards as she tried to remember where exactly she had parked it. The only downside to having a vehicle with an invisibility setting, it made it hard to find if you don't remember exactly where it was left.

"Are you sure about that? Because I'm not seeing anythi-" Jason's voice cut off mid-sentence, a metallic thump ringing out. "Gah!" the man shouted. "Son of a-" Jazz turned around quickly, hurrying over to where he was half-crouched, holding his shin. As she got closer, she could hear him muttering words that, under normal circumstances, she would have felt inclined to scold him for. Seeing as how he was in pain though, she decided to let it slide, just this once.

"Are you okay?" She asked as she knelt down beside him, her hands hovering between the two, uncertain if she should interfere.

"Yeah, m'fine." Jason gritted out, massaging the tender skin of his leg. "Just hit it on something, I'll be fine." As if to prove his words, the man stood up, only stumbling slightly as he reoriented himself. "What did I even kick though? I don't see anything here."

"Well," Jazz sat back on her heels before pushing herself up as well, "that'd probably be what we're looking for." Turning to where the man had stood only a few seconds ago, the redhead carefully reached out her hands, waving them about slowly as she searched for the invisible vehicle. It only took a few seconds for her fingers to brush the cold, thick metal of one of the Speeder's rear thrusters. "Aha!" She exclaimed, letting her hands follow the thruster back to the body and over the framework until she felt the handle of the door. "Great work, Jason! You found it!"

"Found wha-" Jason's half-confused, half-exasperated question trailed into silence as she unlocked the door and pulled it open, causing the vehicle's invisibility to fall and reveal the sorta-futuristic looking hovercraft. "...somehow I wasn't expecting this." He finally spoke after a few minutes of silence. A silence that went relatively unnoticed by Jazz, who was busy digging through the clutter in the back seat. When Jason received no response, he walked up to the door himself, ducking his head in to check out the surprisingly spacious inside of the impossible vehicle. "What did you say the Speeder was again?" He asked, climbing inside to peer at Jazz around the driver's seat.

She didn't stop rummaging as she answered him. "Uhh, technically I didn't tell you what it was? I just said that I arrived in it." Shoving a bag out of her way, she paused to blow a strand of loose hair from her face before diving back in. "But technically it's a spacecraft, only its made to withstand the Ghost Zone, not outer space." Huffing, she sat back from the mess in front of her. "This isn't working. We'll just have to take the Speeder back with us and let Danny hunt down what he needs." Shuffling back towards the front, Jason watched as she slid awkwardly over the front bench seats, twisting until she sat upright once again. "But where would we hide it? As much as I appreciate Harley and Ivy's generous hospitality, we probably shouldn't stay there. I wouldn't want to intrude anymore than we have already…" her hand came up to rub her chin as she tried to think.

"Don't worry about that." Jason spoke up, pulling her from her spiraling thoughts. "I know a place you and Danny can crash. And don't worry," he reassured her when she began to protest, "it's a private, out of the way spot with an underground garage."

Jazz still hesitated, but eventually nodded. "Alright." She agreed, only a bit reluctant to accept his offer. "But only if we aren't bothering you."

Jason laughed. "It's not a problem, Princess."

"Princess?" She repeated the nickname, tilting her head and squinting at him, ignoring the way her cheeks warmed with a light blush.

"I-uh," he stuttered, his face flushing a deep red. "I didn't, mean to say that."

Jazz giggled at the man's embarrassment, waving off his stuttered apologies. "It's fine, Jason." She reassured him, trying her best to stifle her snickering. "Not the first time someone's called me that." Though, she wasn't about to reveal that the other person that called her princess was her Dad. Still, she had to admit that it was kinda cute to see him all flustered.

"I think I'll just shut up now." Jason muttered lowly, sliding out of the way so that Jazz could settle into the driver's seat. He forced his embarrassment away, instead focusing on trying to understand all the different buttons and switches she pressed and flipped to start the Speeder up.

"Oh," Jazz suddenly starts, just as they began pulling out of the warehouse. "You didn't stare at my butt when I was climbing over the seat, did you?"

Safe to say, Jason felt one hundred percent justified in his half-strangled noise of denial. Her laughter didn't help as his face turned crimson again. Forget about her being a goddess, she was the fuckin' devil.

'That probably shouldn't make her more appealing…'

---

(I know there are probably some spelling/grammar mistakes but it's okay because I tried my best!)

To the amazing person who made the prompt for this story, as well as the amazing people who follow along!

@halfblackwolfdemon @manapeer @xxwintrynightzxx @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 @blu-lilac @academicpurposes @secretdestinywerewolf @passivedecept @naluforever3 @postit-nope @spiteismymiddlename @2t-productions @plague-daisy @feet-achy @bubblecookies16 @thesapphiredragon13 @justwannabecat @magicalcollecter @adeniumdream @amuseofminds @lupagrim @readerkayden @dr-syko-pharm-4 @ladythugs @angelheartgamer @markthespot68 @kyrianclawraith @michikoy-yuki @servasvictoria02 @your-emo-nightmare @vala-dreams @scarlett-green-rose @t1dwarrior-of-earth @charlie-the-frogie @akikoyuii @mysticalcomputerdetective @roseuniverse999 @im-totally-not-an-alien @thefearfullone @weird-droplet-309 @jaytriesstuff @raventao @jacquelynwinchester @dragongoblet @tlise21 @longlivethefallen @the-archer-goddess @temple-of-jalebi @adepresseddwightsblogofjunk @plainly-colorful @the-legalHe-shipper @49saltpeppershakers @igotafewbadideas @tumbling-darkling @sparklygardenbouquet @sarcastic-yami @blueneko9314 @starscreamlover @liedboutmurder @do3y @roze-realm @some-mildly-happy-human @yinari-uchiha @azuera @chaoticmistake @altairsarts @kawaiikenna @heartsong18 @thetoyboxs @tricksovertreats @mnemovoid @lim4b3ans @horribly-lost-and-gay @keimiwolf @dryeraseslime @joey394

[communistkenobi]

hiiii I want to ask as someone who saw iwtv s1 but not yet s2, what are some things you liked about the new season and what didn't you like? ty for answering if you do

probably my favourite thing in s2 is the Louis and Claudia dynamic, like truly fundamentally two people who do not want to be together stuck eternally together anyway. I know the show is about a lot of things but the emotional beats that hit the hardest for me have to do with family and how much it feels like being stuck in a hole for your entire life & how every choice feels no choice at all

the sparse appearance of Lestat in this season was also very effective imo, like he is such an overwhelming presence in s1 that he suffocates everything and everyone else and now that is like always present in your mind whenever he’s not on screen, even when Louis isn’t actively thinking about him

was not a fan of the final episode or all the stupid government agent shit with Daniel

[chernabogs]

Of Obscure Sorrows

A passing moment among ruins weaves a tale of a changing story.

(Is this Malleus x Prefect (mostly platonic)?? On my blog?? Yes, in my usual moody, kinda sad way. Terms within come from 'Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows by John Koenig)

Ambedo.

His gaze narrows as he reads over the text again.

N. A melancholic trance in which you become absorbed in vivid sensory details. 

Dark lips curl into a bitter grin as his finger traces over the lettering. It’s quiet where he sits, sequestered away in a mausoleum of sorts to a building long since passed. Crumbling brick walls with vines acting as their mortar are his shelter, and the sun above him—barely concealed by the foliage of the trees—is his ceiling. 

This day is an ephemeral one, he thinks, tilting his head back to squint at the golden rays dancing through the leaves. A warm breeze, carrying the scent of nature on its back, brushes across his skin as he exhales slowly. Here, in the heart of the forest within NRC, is one of few places of solitude left. With only the wildlife as his soundtrack, it’s a much needed paradise from the chaos that is the Diasomnia Dorm. 

He looks at the book again.

Anchorage. N. The desire to hold on to time as it passes. 

He hears the sound of footsteps in the foliage. His gaze rises from the curious novel he holds to see a familiar figure, eyeing him up with some curiosity a few feet away. Perhaps he should have expected this; his sanctuary is on the outskirts of Ramshackle. It was only inevitable that the sole occupant would find him here. He looks to the skies again—how long has he been out here, anyway?  

“Hello,” he hums. A simple word, and yet it carries such a profound effect, causing a smile to appear on the Prefect’s face as they approach. It’s as though with a single acknowledgement he’s given them permission to enter his home; he hasn’t, but they don’t seem to care as he watches them struggle over the decay he sits in. Humans have always been rather clumsy in his eyes—he remembers Silver in his younger years, stumbling and tripping everywhere he went. It seems as though for some humans, such habits never truly leave. 

“What are you doing out here?”

Their voice is calm, curious—comfortable around him. Although he sits shrouded by nature, looking as inhuman as he can ever be, they smile at him like he’s simply another person they cross paths with. And they have crossed paths, many nights now, in the sparse early hours outside of Ramshackle. He raises an eyebrow at their words, looking at their face before he speaks.

“Temporarily escaping.”

Flashover. N. The moment conversation becomes alive. 

As though his comment opened a floodgate, the Prefect happily begins speaking as they settle amongst the ruins as well, still uninvited, but not unwelcome. It was an oddly jarring comparison; someone so lively resting among things so dead. Whereas Malleus himself could have easily blended in with the scenery, the Prefect stood out like a beacon, unaware of the change they were bringing. They weave a tale with their words, unbothered that Malleus simply sits and watches with his book still in hand. 

But he listens.

He catches each hitch of their words, each syllable and vowel that they drawl out. He studies their expressions and makes note of what makes them smile, and what makes them scowl, as though trying to learn these responses himself. They speak of Grim, and of Ace and Deuce, of the weight of the studies that they, as someone without magic, carry, and many other tales of mischief done. 

They ask how he is. He tells them he's fine. He speaks lightly of Sebek, Silver, and Lilia; of the Gargoyle club and a recent letter from home. It feels unusual, having such a lively conversation like this. It feels unusual having a conversation at all.

And yet, he finds himself without complaint. 

Nodus Tollens. N. The realization that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense anymore. 

It dawns on him an hour in, when the Prefect is still present and has given no indication of leaving just yet, that this is a new experience for him. Malleus is a scheduled person; despite how it may seem, he knows exactly what he will expect in a day, what he will do, and how he will do it. He has a story-line to follow. To be visited by this human and to be lured into a conversation that thrives even as the sun whittled away is not a part of his story-line. To be engaging with anyone at the school beyond what was required, actually, is not a part of his story-line. In one moment, the Prefect is already changing his narrative.

He quietly closes his book as he watches them. The gesture seems to catch their attention and although their words cease, their gaze fills with curiosity about what he's going to do next. 

“I dare say it’s beginning to get late.”

“Oh,”

The Prefect sounds surprised as they look up to the skies as well. What was once blue is now gold, indicative of the coming of dusk. Malleus had sequestered himself away for silence, and found himself more than entertained instead. He rises from his seated positions on the ruin and casts down a sparing glance; a few loose stones fall to the earth with his actions, telling him that his presence will still be recorded, even if he didn’t mean it to. 

“I will escort you back to your dorm.” He chooses a line that can be taken as a sparse, polite offer, concealing his own selfish desire to keep talking behind something acquaintances would say. It’s a safe phrase; perhaps he wants to ensure they don’t get in trouble in these woods, where they are without their friends and without magic. Or, perhaps he’s just being thoughtful of the hour, wishing to guide them home before night descends.

Either way, the Prefect’s face lights up at the offer and they nod, accepting it without hesitation. 

For some reason, that small gesture causes a warmth to stir in him. 

They soon depart side by side; he, still blending with the scenery, and they, still standing out like a beacon. The sun continues to wane as the golden rays hits the forest floor, and the ruins soon descend into silence, broken only by the sounds of crickets and fading conversation.

Soon it’s as though no one—no Prince, and no Prefect—was ever there at all. 

Keyframe. N. A moment that seemed innocuous at the time, but ends up marking a diversion into a strange new era in your life.

[bearificationtransformations]

To: Énorme Inc. Research Department

CC: [REDACTED}

From: [REDACTED}

Subject: Trial 23 of Beard Hair Growth Supplement - Male Test Subject

Our team conducted the study on the effectiveness of your recently developed beard hair growth supplement on a male test subject, age 28 (Subject 23 B) . The subject showed initially a sparse beard growth pattern.  As is typical [REDACTED] used a combination of visual observation and measuring tools to track the growth of the subject 23 B’s beard. After the supplement was administered,  [REDACTED] used a digital camera to take photographs of the subject's beard before and after the administration of the supplement. This allowed for a more detailed analysis of the subject's beard growth over the period of the experiment, as well as a more accurate comparison of the before and after results. As the beard grew remarkably fast,  [REDACTED] continued to measure using the  [REDACTED]  to observe and measure the extremely rapid growth of the hair. [REDACTED]  also noted the density and thickness of the beard as it grew, and documented any changes in texture or quality. Throughout the study, [REDACTED] maintained detailed records of the subject's beard growth, including the length and thickness of the beard hairs, the rate of growth, and any other notable changes.

Results of the study indicate that the beard hair growth supplement was highly effective. Within minutes of taking the supplement, the subject's beard started to grow rapidly, resulting in a large, dense beard. The subject's beard growth was remarkable, with an increase in length of approximately 4 inches, and a significant increase in thickness and density. Additionally, the subject noted that the hairs were growing at a faster rate than normal and were of a stronger, healthier quality.  [REDACTED] also observed an increase and growth of a significant amount of body hair. New, thick, vigorous androgenic hair sprouted all over Subject 23 B’s stomach, chest, shoulders and arms.  Subject 23 B showed surprise and alarm at these changes, the subject ultimately appeared to be satisfied with the results once the growth appeared to stop. In addition,  [REDACTED] noted that head hair as well as eyebrows also appeared to grow during the duration of the study.

The subject reported feeling “confident” with his new beard, and stated that he had always been self-conscious about his sparse beard growth  However, he was also alarmed by the dense new hair covering his body. Subject told  [REDACTED] :“I’m hairy as hell!” and “I never imagined I’d be a hairy guy like this.” Following the experiment Subject 23 B also noted that his peers were shocked by his appearance but commented positively on his new beard. While Subject 23 B was initially surprised by the extensive new growth of body hair,  he reports that he is now happy with the extensive and thick coverage of androgenic body hair.  Overall, Subject 23 B reported that he is grateful for the opportunity to participate in the study. CONCLUSION:

While the rapid and noticeable effects of the supplement are impressive, we recommend that additional study is needed to assess the long-term effects of the supplement on the subject's beard growth and overall health. It is also essential to test the supplement on a larger and more diverse group of individuals to confirm its effectiveness and ensure its safety for use. The additional and very significant increase in androgenic body hair may pose some concern to marketability.

Overall, the results of this study are promising, and we look forward to further research on this supplement to better understand its potential benefits for individuals seeking to stimulate hair growth.

Sincerely,

[REDACTED] _______________ To: Énorme Inc. Research Department

CC: [REDACTED}

From: [REDACTED}

Subject: Follow-up on Effectiveness of Beard Hair Growth Supplement on Male Test Subject

I am writing to follow up on our previous study on the effectiveness of your beard hair growth supplement on a male test subject, age 28. While the results of the study are promising in terms of beard growth stimulation, Subject 23 B has recently noted some unexpected side-effects.

Several days after our experiment Subject 23 B wrote to us to report, the subject  experiencing weight gain and an increased libido. The subject reports that he has gained approximately 10 pounds since the experiment concluded late last week and noted an increased desire for sexual activity. The subject reports feeling concerned about these side effects. While we are currently investigating the potential cause of these unexpected side effects, we recommend that further research is necessary to determine the safety and efficacy of this supplement for use. [REDACTED]  We look forward to further collaboration to better understand the potential benefits and risks associated with this supplement. Sincerely, [REDACTED] _______ To: [REDACTED]

From: [REDACTED].Research Team Lead

Subject: Cease Communication with Subject 23B

Thank you  [REDACTED]  for your email regarding the unexpected side effects reported by Subject 23B. We take these reports very seriously and are initiating an investigation into these potential side effects. In the meantime, we ask that you cease all communication with Subject 23B to avoid any further potential bias or influence on the subject's reporting of symptoms. We will follow up with the subject directly to gather additional information regarding the reported weight gain and increased libido.

We appreciate your dedication to this project and your commitment to ensuring the safety and efficacy of our products. Best regards,

 [REDACTED]

__________________ (Story and Art created in part with AI, but were heavily modified by author)

[auphelia]

Taken care of - Cyno

Warnings n tags: f!reader, bad pun, academics, biologist!reader, amurta!reader, dendro vision!reader, fluff, pure cute, first fic ever, not proofread, selfship coded, dont think readers appearance is specified except for being ‘soft’ and in worse physical condition than Cyno

Note: I just needed this out of my system, it is the first time I’ve ever written a fic, so if you actually read it, please expect nothing! Also, minors DNI

Word count: 1200

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It was your first time venturing further into the desert than Aaru village, and you had honestly been dreading this trip ever since it became clear that you would have to go on it. The scorching heat almost made you wish that you could've either kept your big mouth shut or at the very least swallowed your pride. All you had wanted was to pick a poorly understood subject for your thesis, being an Amurta student, you'd practically had your ears cried full of withering zones and the different families of fungi. And you'd had enough of that, not wanting to spend your entire life studying some obscure detail just for your research to be 'new'. So you'd pitched an idea to your supervisor, you wanted to investigate what effect proximity to an oasis had on the evolutionary path of scarabs. After some bickering back and forth, they had agreed to let you pursue this, but under the condition that you were willing to change subject if you'd made no substantial progress within two months. It had now been one month and the only discovery you'd made was, that the litterature on scarabs, or anything from the desert, was sparse at best. And that's how you ended here, boots full of sand, dry skin, probably a good sunburn, and more than a little bitter. But samples wouldn't collect themselves! Luckily, your protective boyfriend had offered to escort you, not liking the thought of anyone else being responsible for your safety. Of course, as soon as the rumor that the General Mahamatra was taking leave to escort a student around the desert started spreading, you were met with more than a little malice from your peers.

The first morning you woke to an unfamiliar sight, what appeared to be an Eremite standing with their back towards you, Cyno's jackal helmet laying discarded in the sand. "What did you do to the white haired man? Speak, or I will set you ablaze!" "A single night, and already my precious flower has turned into a cactus" As always, Cyno's voice was even, but you had known him far too long to not notice the subtle hint of amusement in his tone. When he turned to face your, the satisfied smirk he wore only fueled your annoyance at his antics. "And what would you have done if I had not bothered asking but simply attacked?" "My flower, you have a dendro vision, explain to me how you plan on setting me ablaze? Besides, I do feel confident in my ability to dodge a sleepy student in uneven terrain." He winked at you while motioning at the sand between where you were sitting and where he stood. "Fine. Just warn me before you pull such a tasteless prank again" "This? No.. I.. I mean... I heard what they were saying behind your back. This way, you can say that your escort was just another mercenary." You noticed a light dusting of pink reach his cheeks, and with that all your irritation dissipated.

The second day went smoothly, Cyno surprisingly being able to guide you to many groupings of scarabs, sheepishly explaining that he had always found them fascinating.

By the third day, you were both tired. Cyno kept insisting that he would keep watch for most of the night so that you could be well rested for your fieldwork. He was undoubtedly hiding it better than you, but the slight drag of his feet as you walked towards the next observation spot gave him away. That and how he had been cursing at his hair for getting in his eyes all morning. You couldn't help but giggle at the memory of the oh-so-dignified General Mahamatra fumbling about in the morning sun, swatting at his hair while threatening to cut it off unless it behaved. He had undoubtedly thought you asleep. "If you have breath to spare on laughing, we should be going faster" his voice sounded like he had been inhaling sand instead of air. You couldn't help the whine that left your lips at the thought of your already tired legs picking up the pace. "Cynoooo, I'm just a feeble scholar, I wasn't made for field work". This statement caused him to stop dead in his tracks and turn around with a wicked grin. "Really? Because in my experience -" You cut him off by slapping a hand over his mouth, already knowing his next words, feeling how dry his lips had become from the desert air. Looking into his eyes, his exhaustion became increasingly clear to you. He'd been working himself half to death before going with you, and this clearly wasn't the break you had hoped it would be for him. "We are stopping at the next oasis we reach. Research be damned, I need a rest"

You plopped down with your back against a palm, closing your eyes and relishing in the shade the overhanging leaves provided. As you opened your eyes, a deep frown settled on your lips, there your idiot was, standing guard in the sun. Gently pressing a hand to the trunk behind you, you decided to not give him the opportunity of refusing a rest. The roots sprung to life and crept towards your beloved General. In one fell swoop they wrapped around his ankles and pulled, causing him to fall to the ground. He merely let out an exasperated groan and did his best to flip onto his back to avoid getting a mouthful of sand. As he came to rest with his head in your lap the roots gently untangled themselves from his golden skin and disappeared back into the sandy ground. You wasted no time gaining access to his white mane of hair as you started gently scratching at his scalp. Cyno almost purred at the action, letting his eyes remain closed, it was almost obscene to watch as his face contorted until a peaceful expression finally settled in his features. "You are a wicked, wicked woman" he couldn't fight the smile on his lips even as he tried to sound stern. Your only response was a soft kiss to his cheek, only serving to have him melt further into your soft form. "If anyone sneaks up on us I am blaming you" this time his tone was more serious, but with the sleepy expression on his face you only rolled your eyes at him and mumbled a quick apology. "Worry not General, I'll keep watch while you rest" as you gave him a final pat on the head, you moved to get up, only to be met with Cyno holding you down with an impressive amount of strength given his state. A hand snaked up your body and closed around one of your breasts, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Don't go, it seems we have plenty of securi-titty" You plopped back down in utter shock, remaining completely quiet. "Ahem. You see, I took the words security and ti-" You cut him off with a loud snort followed by laughter. "It seems you will be to blame if we are ambushed General" Your amused tone made his ears take on a reddish tint. Cyno looked up at you with eyes full of adoration. "For this, I am willing to take the chance of being caught unaware" He grabbed your hips and pulled until you were laying next to eachother. After a little while in silence Cyno's breathing evened out and you smiled to yourself in satisfaction.