#at least not until much later when they had no clue where it had disappeared to it just got taken from them when they weren't looking

[capybaraonabicycle]

You know something I am really sad about is how the TARDIS interior changed for tenteen. It would have been a whole different story if the clothes had been normal but like this? Everthing the Doctor was just vanished and got replaced. The screwdriver coming out of nothing? The outfit? A new fancy TARDIS?

10 kept the TARDIS from 9 and 12 from 11. 13 had to fight to get her TARDIS back and built herself a new screwdriver in the meantime. 11 had to let her recalibrate until she was usable again and gave him a new screwdriver (? I think ? Don't quite remember where he got the sonic) All of them CHOSE their new outfit and had a whole thing where they searched for it.

And tenteen just gets all those things like this, appearing in his lap. Which is convenient, sure, but I feel like he really lost the identification process on the way. Maybe not as important for him as he knows the body and mind and companion already (in theory) but like, I am not surprised he is going through it like this. He just wanted to hang on to Yaz, wasn't allowed that, lost her, decided she was gonna be excited for change, didn't really get change either and then everything they could hold onto as part of their last identity, everything that was theirs to let go off, just got ripped out of his hands replaced with a weird mixture of 'look how new and nice and shiny' and 'isn't that lovely reminiscent of 4 bodies ago'. No wonder they are running on their gingiva*, I would be so lost and disoriented in his place.

And then obviously from a meta pov I dislike that 15 is apparently copying tenteen's TARDIS now. We got a scene of tenteen exploring the new TARDIS and being excited but for 15 he has already had 1.5 adventures with her. And while we couldn't put tenteen into the old clothes it was okay to put 15 in underwear? Wouldn't it have made much more sense to have the weird clothes' thing happen with the mitosis regeneration? (like, I wouldn't have liked that either but it is a little weird how tenteen got a full suit and 15 got the bare minimum)

And I hate how it feels like every part that made the Doctor 13 got erased as quickly as possible. Luckily, there were a few references at least - if no one got me I know the psychic paper got me <3 - and I GET why the fam didn't show up in the puppet show but like, couldn't you have left tenteen the TARDIS interior at least? I am sure Donna would have liked the crystal columns <3

It feels very rtd to have tenteen showered with gifts he can't even want and that are way too much while others are erased or overshadowed by him and get the leftovers.

On a similar note, I was also direly missing post-regeneration haze for both of them. Who knows (well people who have watched the Christmas special, I guess), maybe that's yet to come for 15? But like how are they supposed to function without running about without a clue and passing out every 5s for a day or two?

*German expression, means to be on one's last legs

[avocado-writing]

The idea of Wade as a used car salesman found a love of his life during his midlife crisis before he met Logan. They don’t have a clue that he’s Deadpool. They just fall in love with Wade the used car salesman Wade Wilson, even see him as a funny, harmless person till one day his partner showing a picture of Deadpool and goes “He looks hot, could we find some costume to wear next time we fuck, dear?”

Wade totally forgot that he’s retired from Deadpool cause he’s in his suit, ready to fuck the love of his life for eternity. 👀

Wade Wilson knew he was in love the first time you cried laughing over one of his stupid jokes.

You’re probably too good for him with your easy smile and kind heart, and he knows he’s punching above his weight when he asks you out - but somehow you end up saying yes. 

At the bar that night he keeps you laughing until there are tears in your eyes and then continues the show in bed. It’s so lovely to have you all giggly under him, pressed into the mattress as he makes you cum so hard all you can do is moan. 

You lie there, walking your fingers up and down his chest, molasses-slow as the streetlights outside your apartment silhouette you both in fluorescence. 

“I like you, Wade. You’re nice,” you sigh, in a way which suggests you don’t often meet nice people. Ah man, he fucking melts. He’s never letting you go. 

Your relationship is pretty easy. He never feels like he has to work to impress you or keep you onside, you like him for him. It’s a… refreshing feeling, from a world where Wade Wilson constantly feels like he’s too much. 

He catches the Deadpool keyring on your house keys one night after the two of you have grabbed pizza on the way home; spotting the telltale red and black while trying to keep a pile of boxes in place between his hands and his chin. 

“Oh, Deadpool fan?” he asks, trying to affect nonchalance. He sees you get a little flustered. 

“I mean… yeah? Back in his heyday I thought he was cute, kind’ve a shame he disappeared. Merc with a mouth, what’s not to love?” you pause for a second. “He reminds me of you actually.”

Wade laughs at that way too loud and way too hard.

“What? No. That’s crazy!”

You throw him a side-eye but don’t comment further. 

He lets it rest for a couple of days so as not to draw suspicion, but when you make yourself a cup of coffee and his own mask is staring back at him from the ceramic, he can’t hide his wandering eyes. 

“What’s up?” you ask. 

“Nothing. Just didn’t realise they made those.” He didn’t get a cut. Should he have gotten a cut? Would have been nice if whoever had merchandised his face had asked him if he was cool with it.  

“Oh, look, everyone has a crush on at least one superhero, okay? It’s impossible not to. They’re everywhere and they’re hot!”

He lets himself digest this. You think Deadpool is a superhero? He didn’t get that much. Mostly he was referred to as “god’s curse to crimefighting”. But also you have a crush on him? Both of these facts are… interesting. 

“I… think Deadpool is hot, too,” Wade blurts out when he realises he’s been silent for ten uninterrupted seconds. 

“Oh,” you reply, settling down a little when it turns out he’s in agreement with you. “Well, cool! Glad we can agree.”

Phew. Got outta that one, then. 

He really doesn’t think any more of it, or tries not to, until a couple of weeks later when you bring it up in bed. 

“Wade, can I ask something kinda kinky?”

Cuddled in post-coital bliss, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin, he pauses. 

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely, sweet cheeks. I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

“How do you feel about roleplay?”

He turns to you with a grin which threatens to split his face in half.

“Oh, you’ve been keeping that under your hat!” he laughs, “But, in answer to the question, very positive. What were you thinking? Cop and criminal? Nurse and patient? I’m down to play any of those roles by the way, I believe in equal gender opportunities in the bedroom.”

You chuckle, but when you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and try to work out how to phrase the next part of the question, he cottons on. 

“Oh my god. You want me to roleplay Deadpool, don’t you?”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to! It’s just, you said you thought he was sexy… so I wondered…”

He puts a finger on your lips, stoppering the spill of panic from your lips. 

“Baby, I am so down to clown that you might as well call me Pennywise. Let me sort the details and I’ll give you the best night of in-character boning that’s ever been known to man.”

You look giddy at that promise. Truth be told, he’s kinda excited himself. 

Wade retrieves the suit the next day and feels a little weird putting it back on, covering his body again with red and black. When he’s done this in the past it’s in order to go and kill like, a lot of people, not to fulfil a fantasy. But hey - there’s a first time for everything. And it’ll make you so happy, too.

You scream when he taps on your window from his perch on your fire escape. Admittedly he should have told you he was coming, but he thought it could be a fun and sexy surprise. He was wrong. 

“WHAT THE FUCK—!”

Wade whips off the mask as you lunge for your kitchen knife set, hands up in a gesture of peace. 

“Baby! Babe, it’s just me!”

You go limp with relief, leaning against the counter to support yourself. 

“Holy shit! Wade, what the fuck do you think you’re…”

You trail off as you take in the picture of your boyfriend crawling in through the tiny window decked out in his suit. An eyebrow raises. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah! See, I told you I’d sort it.”

Anger and fear now completely ablated, you walk a slow circle around where he stands in your kitchen, appraising his look. 

“This is a high quality suit. Where did you get it?”

“Peter,” he says quickly. This isn’t a lie. He did get it from Peter… Peter’s locker anyway. You look confused. 

“Our coworker Peter?” When Wade nods you furrow your brow. “He… he hasn’t fucked in this suit, has he?”

“No!” says Wade with far too much force. Actually he can’t prove that. Now it’s an image he can’t shake from his mind. Not super conducive to the mood. 

He takes a knife from his belt, and your eyes go wide in a mixture of panic and arousal. 

“Oh my god…”

“It’s blunt! Well. It’s sharp enough for me to cut your underwear off, which I’ve been rocking a semi all day from imagining…”

From the smile which takes up your face, he knows he’s done right. 

Any way you ask him to fuck you, he does. Over your dresser. Against your wall. While running the dulled point of baby knife over the curve of your ass as he pistons his hips inside you, getting the mess of your cum all over the front of his suit. It’s filthy. It’s fantastic. 

But when you lay there cuddled up to his chest that night, Wade feels… conflicted. It isn’t that he’s lying to you, exactly, but it feels like he’s keeping a pretty fucking big secret. 

If you knew, would you still like him? Still want to be with him? Having a crush on a superhero is one thing, but being with one is entirely different. Ask any of the assorted Spider-Man and their various fucked up partners. It isn’t always pretty.

As if determined to take his mind away from this thought you nuzzle into his side, blissfully fucked out. He buries his lips into your hair. 

It never needs to be an issue. Deadpool is retired. He’s never gonna be used for non-kinky reasons again. 

…right?

taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk @starfleetteddybear

[dailyadventureprompts]

Dungeon: A Bleak Picture

Unsure whether they've been trapped inside a painting or been cast back in time, the party must venture through the desolate ruins of a once warm and familiar place to rescue a number of innocents that've gone missing after being abducted by some shadowy force.

Adventure Hooks:

The party arrive in the town of Valasren on innocuous business, following the rumors of a ruin, attending a nearby shrine, or visiting some old friends. When they arrive they're given an unexpectedly amiable welcome by lord Lucas Kevral, who's heard of their earlier exploits and wants to cultivate a good relationship with such aspiring heroes. While taking him up on an invitation to dine at his castle, the party spy a gloomy painting depicting Valasren in ruins. Lord Kevral explains that it was painted to commemorate the near destruction of the town some generations ago, when one of his ancestors left the settlement defenceless to go off seeking glory in war. His grandmother commissioned the painting from one of the survivors, and hung it in a place of honour so she nor any of her descendants would forget their duty to defend the people.

As the party pursue their mission around Valasren they'll begin to notice a number of disappearances that only seems to climb as time ticks on. Rumors begin to circulate about something moving in the night, stalking people, creeping into their homes when they're asleep, leaving only open doors and empty beds come daylight. These rumours become all too real when the party awake one morning to find one of their number missing, taken without a whisper from where they slept. A scattering of untrustworthy witnesses say they saw an unnatural figure carrying a sack up the hill towards the Lord's castle, giving them at least a ghost of a trail.

Following the trail back to the palace eventually leads the party to the painting, an inexplicable cold draft intermittently drifting from its now permeable surface.

Background: The painter who witnessed the destruction of Valasren was a true master, and was years later able to immortalize the hopelessness they felt in that moment through their skill with the brush. There is power in such emotional resonance, and transformed the painting into an overlap with the shadowfell, where the town's sorrow had likewise been reflected. Not quite a portal, the painting never did much harm but making the already drafty castle hall a little more cold and unwelcoming at night, at least until recent days.

Drawn by the warmth of life and merriment on the air, A Snatcher has discovered the painting and forced its way through, one by one dragging inhabitants of Valasren into the upside down for an unknown purpose.

Challenges & Complications:

Once the party figure out there's something up with the painting, cut to the abducted player waking up in the ruined shadow-town. There's no corresponding painting anywhere to be seen, and because they were taken while they were asleep they're likely a bit exhausted and missing most of their gear. They'll have to be quiet and clever to escape the nightmare things and lingering spirits that dwell within Valasren's shadow, but doing so may give them vital clues about what's really going on. Keep the tension on until the isolated hero is backed into a corner, then have the rest of their friends arrive.

It's a grim irony that before war came to Valasren, the painter was working on capturing the beauty and peace of their home town on canvas, only for that work to be destroyed in the town's raising. Thinking it lost forever, the painter added it in as a detail nearby the burnt out remains of their workshop as a meditation on the happiness thought taken from them. Like many things lost to the mortal world, an echo of the painting has come to reside in the shadowfell, and acts as the exit portal back into the land of light. Finding it though is a problem, the snatcher has removed it from it's resting place and given it over to the terrible entity lairing in the castle. Where they've put it, who can say?

Numerous townsfolk have been pulled into the shadowfell and are scattered about the echo of a place they thought they knew. Lost, affraid, and isolated, many of them have run for cover or have started to sink into the spirit siphoning torpor that afflicts all to dwell too long in shadow.

Extra special thanks to @dm-tuz , who's monsters are ALWAYS an inspiration.

Artsource

[bamfaholic]

From Eden to Sit at Your Door | Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2| Part 3|

AO3 here! ❤

TW for assault! Viewer discretion advised!!!

A/N: It's getting hot in here! Very juicy part imo

Kurt Wagner is in for it when you get your hands on him. This little disappearing act is growing stale; he needs to refresh his routine. You scramble out of the bed, at least making it — unlike a fuzzball we know — and changing into the spare clothes he brought.

The revelation you are a mutant had you think a little differently. You found yourself really focusing on what you could hear. Any whispers that could be useful to you. There was plenty of deafening ambience, just like last night. You ball your fists. Just… Just focus. Focus on one thing.

You picture Kurt, his smile, his radiant eyes. Your cheeks burn. Yet… There it is. Ever so faintly, the familiar sound of his breathing, the tip of his tail cutting through the air.

So, you’ve managed to hear him, but that doesn’t narrow down where he is. You aren’t aware of the limitations to your abilities just yet, your radius could be 50 feet or 50 miles for all you knew.

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. You figure you might as well use context clues to decipher his motives. After some fumbling around in the dim room, you find the box of matches. A strike later, and the match roars to life. You make your way around, lighting the few candles, until the match burns to a nub singing your fingertips.

You yelp in surprise, dropping the remains on the floor. It’s nothing, not even a true burn, the shock is what rocked you the most. Once you recollect yourself, the first thing to draw your attention is the open manilla envelope on the bench.

You snoop, flipping through the pages. Everything is written in English. You kick yourself for not paying better attention in class, as so many words are too complex and foreign. Beginner English you pick up on, and the few cognates. In defeat, you flip back to the front, seeing a photo of a woman. Blue, angled cheeks, sleek vivid red hair. Surprisingly, her eyes match Kurt’s in color, but in addition they have slit-shaped pupils. Just how common are blue mutants?

You slip the photo in your pocket. Not much of a plan, you realize, but you can at least make it so Kurt can’t deny the existence of the folder. You leave it on the bench, trading it for your white cane, and make the voyage out of the spare room.

You swear you get lost in the claustrophobic corridors at least twice, and it doesn’t help when you realize you’re in the basement. You avoid anywhere that grows too dark for your comfort. You aren’t sure how long it takes you, just that the sun is up when you finally make it to the sanctuary.

“Wow…” It’s completely different from last night, like you stepped through a portal. The sheets are gone, dust eliminated, warm candles illuminate the gorgeous stained glass and adorned ceiling.

It looks inviting, like its excitedly awaiting the next congregation. Kurt is hung by his tail, upside down, wiping down a beam with a rag. He softly hums a hymn to himself as he does so. It’s a cute sight, his nappy hair suspended midair. He’s still wearing his tank, now trying to slip off his toned body due to gravity, and his light-colored shorts.

He releases the grip with his tail, flipping himself upright, and lands flawlessly on his feet in just a few seconds. Hands on his hips, he admires his handiwork.

You tip toe across the aisle to stand behind him. “Good morning, Kurt.”

“Ah!” He jumps, launching the dirty rag across the room, his tail sticking straight up like a cat. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack, Schatz?”

You snicker, unable to help yourself. “Sorry, sorry. It was too easy.” You get on your tip toes to ruffle his hair, only now you realize how tall he is.

He gruffs, but you see the grin threatening to peak through. “Apology accepted, but I won’t be so nice next time.”

“How so?” You cock your head to the side.

“Like this!” He lunges towards you; his hands making their way under your arms and tickling you. You shriek out before crumbling into a ball of laughter. Once he’s wrecked enough havoc, he sets you free as you gasp for air. “That’ll show you.”

Your chest noticeably rises and falls. “R-Right. I’ve learned my lesson. I won’t spook you again.”

“Damn right,” he says with a laugh, helping you back up to your feet. “did you sleep well?”

“Uh, yeah. I did.” You nervously run circles into the back of your neck, too ashamed to admit it was the best sleep of your life. “So what are you up to?”

“Oh, well someone very sneezy said I should dust,” Mischief flickers in his eyes, “And I should honor God , what better way than to clean His home?”

“I suppose you have a point.”

“Aye, friend, I do!” He hops on top of a pew, crouching like before, in your flat.

“But what now?” You look around the room, unsure what he could do next. You rub your fingers together with the photo between them in your pocket. You aren’t quite sure how or when to bring up the file.

“Head to the market, probably.” His tail happily sways behind him. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

Right on cue, your stomach loudly proclaims its emptiness. Kurt only laughs, hopping back down to his feet. You now note how active he is, he can’t seem to sit still. He pats your back before spinning around, throwing on his coat and hat. “I’ll be off, don’t answer the door.”

“What? You’re going alone?” You’re stunned, but he continues on, heading to the front door.

“Ja, you’ve already been hurt Schatz. I can’t… I cannot allow it again. I will not.”

You don’t know what to say to that. His tone sharply switching grim, serious. It was strange to see him this way.

“Well, I’ll be seeing you. Ciao!” Kurt opened the door, his trademark grin back, and right as he took a step out the door lightning crackled down, striking a few blocks away. Thunder tumbles over your heads, rain pouring from above.

“Shit.” He swears under his breath. “There goes that.” He sighs, putting his coat back on the hanger. “The church will flood and I can’t let it be ruined more than it already is. I’m its only protector now…”

Kurt briskly saunters past you, and you can already see what he means. So much water slowly drips from the ceiling, but a few spots have proper holes causing the downpour no difficulty.

You fiddle with your hands, not sure what to do to help. Kurt has already dipped into some corridor. He is hard to track, hard to spot. It isn’t hard to see why he was so surprised you caught him in your apartment yesterday.

Slowly, you walk back down the aisle of the sanctuary, running a hand along each pew. Some are pristine, but most are cracked. Some have their upholstery torn up, most likely from mold and water damage. There remains a handful of bibles in the shelves, none of them in great condition. The pages are puffed up, discolored, and wavy. A few flames have died out from the rainwater, shifting the ambience cooler. A hole in the roof creates a spotlight on Christ’s face. His peaceful expression, eyes casted downward to onlookers below. Holes in his wrists and ankles, oozing marble blood.

It sends a shiver down your spine.

The bible at the altar is open, and with the thick layer of dust it’s evident it hasn’t been touched in quite some time. Why was this the one thing Kurt didn’t touch? You wonder.

It’s open to the book of Mathew, and some of the phrases are familiar. Lines you’ve heard incessantly in your life, such as: “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” You never understood the seeming hypocrisy, what it really meant.

Your eyes are drawn to a specific line thickly underlined:

Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

There’s a thin scratch in the dust layer, like a nail digging through. You reach out to touch, to read more, maybe this will give you a glimpse into Kurt. This entire adventure had you forget why you even interacted with the man in the first place: your book.

You hear a crash and a commotion, like tons of metal falling to the ground. “Kurt!” you shout, rushing to his direction, but his blue-self pops out from a hallway.

“Ja?” He says, chipper as ever.

Kurt comes back with pots, bowls, and buckets. He strategically sets them up, before seating himself at the altar. He lights two candles before mumbling to himself, clasping his hands in prayer.

You carefully seat yourself beside him, enjoying the beauty. The candles are warm, comforting. They remind you of last night. You never cared for church, hated it in fact, but were happy it gave Kurt peace.

“Amen.” He finishes, raising his head and glancing to you.

“Why do you believe?” You spit out.

His glimmering eyes examine you, “Why don’t you? There is no proof to swing you one way or another.” He leans back, propping himself up with both of his hands.

“Well, it’s just… You’ve been through an awful lot. Not many would be thanking God for that.”

Kurt throws his head back in a laugh, his hand mere inches from yours. “I suppose not, but that is what makes me different. God destined me for these trials, these… Tribulations. I will prove myself as much as He needs me to.” His other hand moves up to feverishly clutch the rosary adorning his neck.

You click your tongue, not one to be religious. “I just don’t think it’s fair.”

“Aye, well, nothing is fair, friend.” He gently pats your head. “We would be puppets if not for the first sin, if our mother and father Adam and Eve hadn’t listened to the serpent. It was the cost of our autonomy.”

You hold your tongue, not comfortable in fighting his beliefs. At least he isn’t forcing it upon you. “Your rosary is beautiful.” You point to it. “Where did you get it?”

“That…” He peers down his chest. “The nunnery that raised me claims they found me with it, so I’d assume my mother.”

“You don’t know her? You grew up in a nunnery?”

He winces, slightly. You’ve accidentally opened an old wound. “In a sense, no. She… She abandoned me, for even I was too monstrous for her. So God led me to the sisters. I am ever grateful.”

You don’t think as you make your move, gently placing your hand on top of his. “Well, this mother of yours, she doesn’t deserve to know the kind of man you’ve become. You’re better than she will ever be.”

He chuckles, cheeks flushing. “You flatter me, Schatz.” He turns to look at you, his smile melting you into a puddle. “I’m so happy you think so.”

Thunder rolls above again, lightning cracking and snapping outside, yet you two are focused on no one else. The tension is thick, and you hear his heart fluttering.

“I’m so happy I met you, friend.” His brilliant glow is blinding.

You nervously swallow. “M-Me too.” You glance away, your face so hot it feels like it’s melting.

“And…” He gives your hand a squeeze. “I am no saint, friend. I am very much a dirty sinner.” He drops his voice to a whisper, leaning in close to you.

His mouth is slightly parted, breath hot. You can see the tips of his fangs threatening to poke out. His grip is a little tighter. You forget to breathe.

“Will you sin, with me?”

Your heart does cartwheels before lodging in your throat. Unable to speak, you just nod.

His eyes slowly close, his head slightly askew. He’s leaning closer to you, his breath warms and tickles the tips of your ears.

Blood is rushing through you, digging your nails into your palms just to stay grounded. This feels so soon, way too soon, but you can’t help it and comply.

You allow yourself to melt, leaning in, pressing your lips together. Fireworks burst between you, his lips so soft and gentle. Your skin is electrified. He’s so warm, and he smells sweet like a doughy pastry.

A hand of his slides up your back, cradling your neck. He pulls you into his lap, enveloping you in intoxicating warmth and desire. You raise a shaky hand to run through his hair. This all feels like a dream, a magnificent dream.

He bites down on your lower lip, hard. Its as if ice cold water is thrown on you. You inhale sharply in distress, the taste of blood filling your mouth. You try to yelp as you open your eyes but find yourself staring at someone else. Their features melt and realign, but the golden sclera remain. It’s the woman from before, the mutant Kurt was after.

She wipes your blood from her lips with her thumb, licking it away. You open your mouth to scream something, anything.  “Ah ah ah~,” She tuts, jamming a large metal device in your gut.

Electricity burns your skin, your muscles convulse and fight against your senses. You fall backward, to the harsh unforgiving floor. She rises to her feet, heels of her boots clicking on the stone.

She speaks in English, just barely out of your view. All you can see is her blurry blue silhouette. The footsteps circle themselves, before she comes back straight to you. She stretches up in height, her skin forming metal plates, and in a blink she’s a broad man made of metal.

She heaves you over her shoulder, and out the front doors of the church. The icy rain beats down on your back, soaking you completely while you still fight the convulsions. You’re hurled into an armed vehicle with English lettering on the side.

Inside, you’re completely surrounded. Soldiers, just like the ones from your flat. They pay you no mind, one of them slapping jagged, strange looking handcuffs on your wrists.

The truck squeals before it begins to move, and you’re jostled by every bump and turn. Rain drops down from your hair, and you watch the puddles grow at your feet. The despair in your heart is soul crushing. Again and again, you’re left like this: helpless. When will it end?

You close your eyes, the lack of visuals comforting. Something you were accustomed to, something you knew you couldn’t rely on. Maybe Kurt was someone you never knew, stringing you along. Maybe he was this horrible woman all along. You couldn’t be certain, and you didn’t know if you ever could be.

For now, it didn’t appear to be in the cards for you to know anytime soon. Instead, like a lamb being led to the slaughter, you quietly await your future in the dim back of the truck; blood from your split lip dribbling and mixing with your tears.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 (WIP)

Banners by @/cafekitsune

[geekywritings]

“Dance with me.”

Cal Kestis x reader

You convinced the crew to take a small break to attend a local festival for a much deserved downtime. Convincing a certain Jedi to dance with you is much harder, however. Or is it?

_____

„Dance with me.“

You had asked Cal to do a lot of crazy things. To explore unknown territories, to jump across impossibly wide canyons and to take down Imperial bases full of Stormtroopers. And never had he hesitated to say yes. Until now.

He looks at your outstretched hand and swallows hard. “I don’t think…”, he begins and instantly the smile on your face diminishes. As if sensing his discomfort about it, though, you are quick to pat his shoulder.

“No worries. It’s not for everyone.”, you assure him and disappear back into the dancing crowd, joining the masses as they jump, turn and just move around to the heavy beat of the drums.

“Why didn’t you join her?”, Cere asks when she returns with your drinks, clearly having witnessed the scene.

“I have no clue how to dance.”, Cal admits with a shrug. “It wasn’t exactly part of Jedi training.”

Cere chuckles. “It’s not like they are following specific steps.”

“That makes it even harder.”

Cal learned to let go of many things, but the Order and the lifestyle it had taught were also still deeply ingrained. There was always a given path or a pre-defined routine to stick to. This is far beyond his comfort zone. His new mentor stares at him for a few moments and suddenly says: “Time for a lesson.”

“What?”, the red-head asks, hand stopping mid-motion on its way to grab his cup.

“It’s time I teach you something beyond the Order’s knowledge. Stand.”

Slowly he follows, though confusion and hesitation are visible in every movement. Cere moves them into position and then tells him the steps. Easy ones. Basically like walking in a box.

“That’s it?” The surprise is thick in Cal's voice and clearly written all over his face.

“In a way, yes.”

They return to the table and Cal’s eyes slide back to you. Or to where you had been before. Apparently, you have danced your way deeper into the crowd and out of his sight. His attention is drawn back when Greeze shows up with food and he busies himself talking with his found family until his fellow Jedi's return.

You are out of breath, but smiling so brightly that Cal can't help but stare. Have you ever been more beautiful? Hair dishevelled, cheeks flushed and lips drawn into a permanent grin. “Ahh, this was so much fun.”, you sigh, dropping onto the empty seat next to Cal and pouring yourself a drink.

The conversation returns to Greeze’s new recipe ideas and plans on where to go next, while the surrounding festival seems to slow down. Soon, the music is soft and gentle, leaving mostly couples moving to the tune. Cere gives Cal a nudge under the table, motioning toward the marketplace behind you.

He knows what his mentor is asking, but the young man still finds himself swallowing hard. He can do this. He fought Darth Vader and came out alive. Surely, asking you to dance is easier than that.

“Y/N?”

You look up from your almost empty plate and Cal almost loses his voice again.

“Uhm… I know I said no before, but… do you wanna dance now?” Ok, that didn’t come across as confident as he would have liked, but at least the words HAD left him at all. First, he is met with a gasp and seconds later with that happy smile of yours again that gets his heart beating faster. “Yes, of course!”, you agree, instantly pushing your plate aside.

He offers you his hand, before leading you toward the dancing couples, trying to relax his body. He is good with remembering steps, so that's not the issue. But will he do it right? All negative thoughts slip away when you place one of his hands around your waist, before grasping the other one, your bodies pressed together.

With his mind pleasantly blank, Cal begins to move, the steps so much easier to do when he doesn't worry about making a mistake. All he can think of is how you feel in his arms, how happy you look at this moment and how badly he wants this to continue forever. The steps you are taking are slow, barely moving as you just sway to the slow melody. Nobody says a thing, but it is the most comfortable of silences.

Gently, Cal draws you even closer, your foreheads soon resting against each other as you continue the slow dance. “This is the best part of the festival.”, you whisper and Cal’s heart soars. “I didn’t even know you could dance.”

“I didn’t until today.”, he admits with a little grin.

“Well, then you are naturally talented.”, you compliment back, making his lips twitch upward even more.

There won't be many moments like this, you both know. It makes it all the more special amid the war and the constant danger.

“Thank you for taking me here. It means a lot to me.”, you speak again.

“Whatever makes you happy.”, he replies honestly and without hesitation.

Your eyes have this mischievous look in them again. The one that worries and excites the Jedi at the same time.

“Whatever makes me happy? Hmmm… maybe I should utter another wish then.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, expecting something crazy.

“Kiss me.”

Force, how he loves you. And even if you HAD asked for something crazy, he would have jumped into action right away. Everything to make you happy.

“As you wish.”, he whispers, before his lips met yours in a soft kiss. This is perfect. Who knew a dance could ever make you two this happy?

[draco-after-dark]

Dory Verse - Aftermath

small spoiler for the Feral JD au just so ya know

Rough draft of my favorite Dorse Verse boys seeing Feral again

(I did not re-read this shit so if spelling error you didn't see it)

It had been months, maybe a whole year since they had all last seen him.

Since Grey had last seen his chip buddy.

Since Eldest had last hung out with his therapy dog.

Since Hitman had last seen his comrade. His amego. His best friend.

‘Where are you Feral?’

At first, none of them had really batted an eye at Feral’s absence. The troll could be pretty unpredictable at times and it was always hard to tell when he was at the house or not. He would disappear for days at a time and then reappear somewhere out of thin air.

After a week had passed Eldest had asked Hitman about where the resident mayhem makers could be. Hitman had no clue. Feral wasn’t exactly the talkative type so there was no way for him to tell them when he would be back.

After two weeks they started to worry. Feral had never been gone for this long before. Maybe they had all just been busy. Missed each other because of how wonky time seemed to move in this place. Maybe Feral just had some things going on and he couldn’t visit?

No, that didn’t seem right. Eldest had known Feral a lot longer than Hitman, This wasn’t normal. Something was wrong and he had no way to contact his little buddy.

Before Feral disappeared if you found Hitman, Feral usually wasn’t very far away. The scruffy troll had taken a liking to the awkward troll almost instantly. That fact alone back made a man full of the other JDs of the house jealous. For different reasons depending on who you asked.

Ever since the early days when Crystal and Grey had figured out just how food-motivated the feral troll was it became a sort of right of passage. Piss off Grey and by default, you’d have to deal with Feral. If a chip bag was ever tossed in your direction then good luck because you’d need it.

So when three weeks rolled around Eldest and Hitman had gone to find Grey and figure out what was going on. Since neither of them knew where their friend had disappeared or why, maybe Grey did. Eldest knew how much the troll cared for Grey after the whole Snake incident. God, he really hoped nothing bad hadn’t happened to Feral.

Weeks turned into one month and then two. After that, they had stopped keeping track. Every day they counted just made things worse. Left more questions. More worry for their friend. 

Until months later.

They had all been in the kitchen eating lunch when they heard the distinct rattle of the door in the living room. It always did that before someone entered. Eldest had gone to peek around the corner to see who it was. He figured it was probably a World Tour considering there was no name present at the top of the door. It was something they released that happened to the most frequent visitors of the house. That and World Tour had said he was going to drop by today.

What Eldest hadn’t been expecting when the door opened was to see a completely unfamiliar troll step through. It was unexpected, to say the least. A new John Dory hadn’t shown up in months so they had all just figured that was everyone.

He was so shocked he just stared at the newcomer.

Eldest’s frozen look had quickly gained the attention of the other two and they had moved to also glance around into the living room.

“What the fuck?” Grey said, also being surprised by the newcomer.

This quickly gained the troll's attention. Their ears quickly perked up, eyes shooting towards the small group. At that, their eyes widened as a large grin broke out across their face. 

In a matter of seconds, the troll had already bolted across the living room and grabbed Eldest, spinning him aggressively around. Arm tightly crushing and head pressed into the side of Eldest. This troll was definitely something. They’d picked Eldest up so fast and effortlessly that It had Grey reeling back further into the kitchen.

As soon as the stranger had noticed Grey he had already dropped Eldest. The troll wobbled from dizziness from the constant spinning as the stranger set his sights on his next target. 

Grey.

Grey had curled his hand into a fist ready to punch the troll but before he could swing his arms were already locked by his sides. Grey was about ready to bite this guy if it came down to it but he suddenly froze at the sound and feel of a deep rumble.

It felt familiar..?

Grey was quickly released, unlike Eldest who had been held for a good minute. Eldest now leaning against the edge of the counter waiting for the world to stop spinning so he could ask who they were.

As soon as Grey realised he quickly backed away from the taller troll who looked curiously down at him. The was when 

The trolls then launched themselves directly at Hitman. The two tumbled to the floor in a heap of fluff and fur. Hitman let out a loud grunt a bit dazed at the abrupt impact. When his eyes cracked back open he was face to face with the pale blue troll. 

He’d never seen someone smile so wide

“Bbrrrrrr-ooouu-theeerrrrrrrr.” The troll growled out as he hugged Hitman tightly, cheek pressed firmly into Hitman’s.

‘Wait… brother?’

At that, Hitman had jolted back his hands flying forward grabbing both sides of the mystery troll's face and really looked at him.

Eyebrow slit. Chip out of his ear. Black earrings. Two scars over the right cheek. One big snaggletooth.

‘Holy shit’

“FERAL!”

The troll grinned widely at that as Hitman latched onto him like if he let go Feral would disappear again.

“Feral?” “Feral!”

Grey and Eldest both called one of confusion and the other of relief.

At that exclamation, Eldest stumbled towards the two and crashed onto the floor next to Feral. Hitman was still clinging tightly to Feral as he wiggled an arm free and reached out towards Eldest. 

Eldest’s eyes watered and with a loud sob, he latched on the other side of Feral.

“Feral where! What! AUGH-” Eldest could barely get a word out through his choked sobs. Hitman was not faring much better as he began to shake and also started to cry.

Grey simply watched the three

A devious smirk streaked across Feral’s face.

“NO. DON'T even think about it!”

It was too late Feral had already unwrapped his long tail from his waist and latched it onto Grey's arm. Dragged the unwilling troll straight into the cuddle pile.

Grey grumbled a few protests but eventually settled down. Eldest, reaching out an arm and crushing Grey into them all.

Feral had missed this. Missed them all so much but some many things had happened in such a short period of time he just didn't have the chance to visit.

But he was here now and that's all that mattered.

His low rumble soon fizzed out into a pur, the vibrations from Feral rippling out and through the other three.

This was perfect.

That was when they all heard a voice.

“Did I miss something?”

World tour stood in the entryway of the living room with a puzzled look on his face.

“Fuck.” Grey was never going to hear the end of this.

Grey! JD belongs to @ijjstlostthegame

Eldest! JD belongs to @matmiraculous

Hitman! JD belongs to @lemony-and-zesty

World Tour! JD belongs to @year2000electronics

[pigeonpeach]

You’re not safe

Prompt: yandere drabbles…

Warnings: death, paranoia, yandere stuff

Imagine if you’re already a relatively paranoid person. Even in safe and normal environments, you are on edge or glancing out of your eye wondering if there’s something there. Because of this you’re used to dismissing things and possibly even actual signs of stalking. The eyes on you as you walk home.. the footsteps but no one being behind you… the list goes on. You feel those feelings and instincts so often and so often were you wrong that you’re conditioned to dismiss even legit instincts.

Until the gifts come in. A cute and thoughtful bouquet, chocolates, letters professing love. You worry a bit, how would your admirer know where you live? Isn’t it weird they know your favorites but you don’t know their name? No no they must’ve just asked.

Mondstadt is a close knit community at times, it wouldn’t be impossible to simply ask your co-worker or the acquaintances you know about this stuff. You aren’t hidden or reclusive afterall, people know you exist so it also wouldn’t be hard to know where you live right? Mondstadt is a safe nation, you are safe. You should stop worrying. You put the flowers in a vase and enjoy the chocolates for a bit.

But your admirer never makes themselves known… shouldn’t a suitor at least leave their name or their presence known? How are you supposed to fall for someone you don’t even know? That’s the point of this courtship isn’t it? They clearly aren’t platonic gifts… no no maybe they’re shy! Maybe they try to write their name but never can being themselves to. Maybe its someone you know then? They don’t want to ruin their pre existing relationship with you so they love from afar maybe? That must be if. They’ll obviously make themselves known later. Its not been that long anyways, just a couple of months! Youll be fine!

But that flirty customer or that small crush you had on some other person is halted by their disappearance. Okay so maybe mondstadt isn’t as safe.. but they also were known for going out the walls alot. There’s so many monsters out there that there’s wonder that they might’ve vanished. The knights will find them surely! The knights are looking into it, so you shouldn’t risk your health worrying. Just pray to barbatos and ask for updates every so often. Its only been a day afterall!

But when you walk home that night you cannot brush that feeling of being watched. You swear there’s footsteps. You swear there’s some danger in the shadows! Still your heart! You go through this routine so often and so often are you wrong! Just get home, you’ll be fine, you’re safe. You’re safe. But those footsteps don’t line up with yours… oh but you’re in a city! It could be someone in some other area, maybe a echo? But it doesn’t echo in this alley. You know, you take this route and not even a laugh or loud sound will echo, much less the quite patter of boots or heels on the stone… just.. get home.

Home is your safety, home is warm, a small little apartment you’re renting. You live next door to neighbors so you’re even safer. The ladies next door are a bit noisy but their noise helps break up the silence you hate the silence. Trying to get to bed, preparing for the next day and skip past this possible episode of paranoia by sleeping it out. Yes that must be it, you’re just so tired you’re hearing things!

That relief is temporary. You feel like you can see eyes outside your window. Your heart racing. Oh it must be a Owl! They come in sometimes! There’s lots of birds in Mondstadt, just close the curtains and lock your windows and doors. You’re safe. You’re fine.

That flirty acquaintance is never found. Your anxiety unbearable now. They should be back! The knights give you pitiful looks as they inform you there’s no news or clues found, they’re doing everything they can. Just stay in the city and you’ll be safe. You ask a guard if he can patrol your neighborhood more, he agrees. That’s a relief. Even if something happens now you’ll be safe. You decide to pick up some flowers to give the family, it must be hard missing someone. You weren’t the closest yes but its still thoughtful to show support to a grieving family!

Your generosity comforts you. The family is thankful for your gesture as you pray to dandelion seeds and blow them into the wind along side them, asking barbatos to find their child. Temporarily you feel a bit better and optimistic.

That hope is dashed. They did find the missing acquaintance, what was left. A charred remains. Whopperflowers or abyss mages are culprits. You grieve, they might not have been your best of friend or your biggest crush but they were a person, a part of your normal and comfortable life and you still valued them because you enjoyed their company. Even if those feelings weren’t deeper you still feel the pain the family is feeling.

The death of your friend however is another factor to your stress but a new excuse to you now. You’re grieving, you’re probably hearing things, you’re over paranoid.. but… there’s a new letter left for you. Reading it you’re treated to what is a rather… interesting confession.

“I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you. I cannot stand to let anyone else have you.”

That’s… not normal is it? Well everyone is different. You would get jealous if you saw your crush flirting or being surrounded by others. Besides the death occured outside the city… but its not impossible for them to lure them out and… No. don’t finish that thought. Get inside and just relax. You lock your doors and the shutters as well. You look at the letter once more… they must just be a bit… overwhelmed maybe? Yes that must be it. Bottling their emotions for you must manifest itself in this ,although frightening, ultimately harmless way! You’re safe you’re safe…

Maybe what you need is to get out more that must be it. You decide to get a drink with some friends. A classic Mondstadt method of stress relief. Its nice and fun. You talk endlessly and chatter to new people. There’s this cute adventurer who’s caught your eye. Your admirer still hasn’t made themselves known. It wouldn’t hurt to have some fun would it? You’re not bound to them. How can you be loyal to someone you don’t even know or have seen?

You don’t go home with him, you’re not that kind of person. But he walks you home and you feel the relief of knowing you’re safe.

He went missing.. he hasnt reported to the Adventurers guild in a while. His family is suspicious but not surprised. You’re assured this is normal. He’s a adventurer after all? Who would he be if he didn’t disappear for a bit to explore? He’s fine, you’re fine, everything’s fine!

Coming home you see another letter. Instead of the usual poem you read:

“I will not let anyone else have you, no man or woman will ever be allowed in-between us. I will not let anyone hurt you or take you from me.”

You need to tell the knights..

They seem worried but not too much. There’s no missing person case for the adventurer in question after all. There is no reason to think they’re dead. But they will keep a eye on your neighborhood now. The knights are thankfully rather kind. The knight you speak to in particular is rather nice. He assures you that if any escalation occurs they will launch a full investigation.

That should alleviate your worries but it doesn’t. You worry now if there’s a pattern. But its only been two and one isn’t even confirmed dead! You’re too negative now. Maybe you should go to church a bit more. Go to the bar a bit more. Get out and try to push your anxieties away. You’re safe afterall. Completely safe…

You don’t get gifts as much. The knight patrols seem to succeed in diverting your admirer. You feel relieved. Everything is okay now. The adventurer is still not back, but your anxieties have motivated a fellow adventurer to go check on where he was supposedly dispatched/ventured to. Everything is fine.

The knight patrols eventually die down. They tell you to inform then of any other gifts. You thank them profusely for their help. They were right, you were just overreacting! How silly of you! Now just get on back with your normal life.

There’s a box of chocolates at your door. Your heart races until you read the tag, its from a friend of yours. You relax, taking it inside to read the note. They heard about your worries while you drunkenly rambled and wanted to help you relax a bit. How sweet, you’ll thank them later. Although these chocolates seem homemade. A bit sloppy and messy, but the box is bought and from a chocolatier out of both you and your friend’s price range…. Their chocolates are usually more neat than this. Oh! They must’ve eaten the chocolates before feeling guilty and making replacements! That must be it. Although there is some skepticism you feel. You decide to just have one for now. You are hungry after all. Your stress has made you stop eating at times. You haven’t had desserts in months now. One won’t hurt. But… you still are worried. You break it open, there’s nothing suspicious, just jam. No blades or metal. You really should relax more… a sigh escapes as you bite into it. Its… delicious! You did not know that friend was this good at chocolate making! Come to think of it, it might be more expensive to make chocolates like these than to buy them. Oh they’re so thoughtful! You have to plan a gift or way to repay them now.

With your anxieties dismissed you eagerly eat the others. Quickly clearing the box. Nothing seems off. For the first time in a awhile sleep comes to you rather easily, you practically stumble into bed before even covering yourself with the covers.

You were so distracted you didn’t lock the window to your bedroom.

When you wake up you think you’re still dreaming. From a shabby little bed to a… ornate.. luxurious bed-frame.. the room is definitely not yours… you feel startled as you wonder where you are. But something pulls you back as you try to get up. Rattling, clacking… there’s something cold on your hands.. your legs too. The covers hide them. You pull on them as the covers fall just enough to give you the glimpse you need. Chains… you aren’t safe.. you aren’t safe.. where are you? What is this place? You have to get out! You have to! The door is opening. The wood is creaking. The little sunlight in the room masks the figure walking in. You shiver. You tremble. Trying to crawl or climb away. The chains are stronger than you.

“My love, don’t struggle now. I don’t want those cuffs to bruise your skin.”

Who is that?

“WHO ARE YOU!” You scream. You can’t control it. You’re so frantic and panicked you can’t control even your voice. Your heart is racing, you can feel its beat in every limb and muscle. Your mind is blank. Who is that?

“I am not a threat, please calm down.” They stepped into the small ray of light, giving you a glimpse of their red eyes. “Oh, I forgot to have the maids pull back the curtains.” They approach the window to pull back the curtains. Sunlight blinds you. “Sorry, You must be confused. I am the mysterious admirer you had. I’m sorry that I scared you. I didn’t mean to frighten you or make you feel unsafe.”

Who is that? Your eyes struggle to adjust to the bright light in your face, but his voice isn’t helping. But it’s familiar. The bartender… Diluc?

“Who are you.. why am i here?.” You try to maintain some control of yourself. Your eyes finally adjust as you take in his appearance. You are however no less terrified and confused.

His gentle smile faltered as he seemed annoyed. He sighed. “I brought you here because I want to keep you safe. You were so frightened and scared.. I couldn’t just let you go unprotected. at first I just followed you home so you wouldn’t be hurt. But overtime I just… fell madly in love with you.” The look in his eyes was passionate but now intimidating. You felt frozen as he approached you. “I never meant to hurt you, or anyone. But those men… I couldn’t let them have you. Its selfish but I wanted you for myself.”

“You… you were responsible for their deaths… they’re both dead? Even th-“

“Lets not talk about that. I can see you’re frightened so please just calm down. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“No no no you’re… you’re dangerous! You killed two people how can I not be scared! Oh god are you going to kill me too?!” You trembled, scampering to the headboard, trying to do everything to get away.

“No i won’t hurt you.” He said more assertively now. You trembled even more. Oh god you’re making him mad… oh god no you should shut up..

“Please stay away! Please.” You squealed as his hand reached for your foot. You kicked unintentionally kicking him in the face. You just kicked the man holding you captive, the man notorious for his strength, the man who murdered two people for you, the man who was this dangerously obsessed, you kicked him in the face.

He rubbed the impact, but didn’t seem too fazed.

“I figured you would struggle to relax. I’ll prepare you some tea.” He left in a grumpy mood. You however were horrified. Would he hurt you if you got too disobedient? What should you do? What can you do?

You’re a idiot, all this time you weren’t safe and you kept convincing yourself you were. Stupid stupid… you’ll never get out now..

[wandererbf]

Why would you two argue

(English is not my first language)

Characters: Inuyasha, Kagome, Sango and Miroku

Inuyasha

• I think there are many reasons to fight with Inuyasha when you are in a relationship with him.

• But I think the worst fight you guys ever had was when he forgot your 1 month anniversary because he had a (clearly false) clue of Kikyo.

• You spent the whole afternoon getting ready for this meeting and when you were ready, you went to the agreed location and waited, waited for much more time than you should have.

• In reality you were getting worried, what could have happened? Did he encounter any dangerous yocai? Did Naraku find him?

• 3 and a half hours had passed when you saw the white man approaching, looking very crestfallen and you worried even more, you run towards him.

• It was when a guilty look was thrown at you that you realized what happened.

• "I had to see if she was okay.."

Kagome Higurashi

• Well, here you are from the current time, and you've been dating Kagome for a few months and nothing could be better... until then at least

• Kagome started disappearing for days, she wouldn't respond to your messages and even her family wouldn't allow you to go to her room to check on her

• That was when rumors suddenly started that she was missing because she found a delinquent boyfriend and she spent days at his house

• (not that these rumors were completely wrong since although they are not dating she lives in his era)

• It was at this point that you had enough when you finally saw her on the street but when you went to talk to her you saw that she was accompanied by a white-haired boy with very... curious(?) clothes.

• well.. unfortunately for you she saw you but you already had tears in your eyes and that was when she realized what happened.

• but at that point when she tried to get closer you just ran away.

• “Y/N wait, it's a misunderstanding!”

Miroku

• Well this time it will be much simpler, I think you already know the reason why you would keep arguing.

• He's always flirting with other girls..

• Well, you got irritated but never really cared unless he touched another girl.

• But there was one time when he crossed any limit, he flirted with the girl and even left with his arms linked with her! as if you didn't even exist!

• Later when he returned to the place where you were sleeping Miroku noticed that you weren't even looking at his face, soon realizing what a mistake he made..

• “Y/N please.. I’m sorry I was just trying to help her to make her husband jealous..” - well for the first time he was saying the truth, but you still could get mad at him don’t you?

Sango

• I think you would almost never fight, and if you did it would be for a futile reason... well maybe not this time

• She had just seen Kohaku, which shook her a lot, making her become more reclusive.

• And like the good lover you were you thought 'well maybe I should check on her'.. but oh.. what a terriver idea darling..

• She was in a small tent in the village where they stopped for the night, you carefully open the door asking how she was.

• She seemed calm until she started crying when she wanted to start saying something but then in a single breath she asked you to get out of there and that she didn't want to look to your face anymore.

• As you knew she was fragile, you just agreed and left, but of course you didn't stop worrying and placed some comforters outside the tent.

• Early the next morning he felt someone lying down next to him in the tent he was in, that person was Sango, she had a sad look on her face and looked like someone who hadn't slept in a while.

• Maybe this comes from the fact that she got unused to sleeping other than by your side, you didn't sleep very well either, missing your girlfriend

• "I'm sorry darling, now please let's go to sleep.."

[domoz]

AU that’s been bouncing around in my head for a bit.

One day, at the end of fall, the Senju clan disappears.

Truth be told, they don't know long it's been before they realize. The Senju tend to go on the defensive when it's harvest season, and that usually extends into a quiet winter, at least for as long as Hashirama has been clan head. The lack of aggressive border patrols doesn't raise anyone's alarm.

No, the first word they get at something being wrong comes from a civilian woman, of all places. The kind that show up occasionally to beg the nearest shinobi clan for some charity.

Her village has been all but held hostage by bandits, she tells them, and she'd gone to the Senju who were closer, only --

Only no one had been there.

It seems like an obvious trap at first, and if not that, then perhaps the woman had just come across some abandoned place and mistaken it for the Senju village; Shinobi aren't so easy to find without a guide, after all, and the Senju especially keep themselves secreted away in the woods like animals.

Eventually they'd told her they'd look into it, just as soon as they'd figured out what had happened with the Senju.

Madara insisted on leading the scouting group himself, and he stopped in his tracks as soon as he stepped onto the other side of the river. Looked up and down the tree line with wild eyes, sharingan briefly spinning into a Mangekyo that set the rest of the squad on edge.

"There's…It's nothing. And that means something's wrong." Was all he explained before demanding they move onward.

Izuna didn't understand what he meant until they were much deeper into the forest. There is nothing wrong, no hairs on the back of his neck rising, no feeling of being watched -- and there always is, this deep in Senju territory. Related to the Mokuton, he thinks, so it was no wonder that Madara had noticed first.

So -- something happened to their clan head, Izuna reasons. Perhaps the Senju closed their compound in mourning and redirected the woman elsewhere. It's a reasonable enough explanation, but Madara won't settle until he knows for certain, so he stands by his brother's side and follows him deeper into the woods.

It wasn't as though he was wrong. Something had happened to Hashirama, and the rest of his clan with him.

The gates to the compound are closed, but there are no patrols on the walls, and no traps set on the perimeter to slow their approach. Izuna can't help the sick anxiety twisting up his throat. This has to be bait, something to lure them into a false sense of security and their eventual deaths. Nothing else makes sense.

But a glimpse over the wall show no signs of life inside. No people moving around, no laundry drying on the line, not even any noren fluttering in the wind -- for some reason they've all been taken down, leaving the compound dead and motionless.

The dread only mounts as they make their way over the wall and deeper inside. The houses are empty, stripped down to the floor mats. A few traps have been left behind, but not the dangerous ones Izuna had imagined. Just small scale things, meant to keep intruders out of the abandoned buildings. Easily disarmed, but that only adds to the unease.

They will go back and do a thorough search later, but the only clue, from out of every empty room, every cleared out cellar, every spot of turned dirt where it looked as though even some trees were taken, is in the main square. A circle of soot, smudged and stained deep into the stone. The remains of a seal that was used over and over again, already dissolved and unreadable.

The Senju must have used it. Or it must have done something to them. But what, no one has any idea. ---

The Uchiha never do quite manage to celebrate the disappearance of their enemy. Some do, and some are so clearly relived that the threat is gone, but as winter goes on the feeling that settles across the clan is one of dread. It is one part fear, not knowing what's happened to them, and one part worry about the future. Their entire lives and the lives of their ancestors are filled with memories of their war with the Senju. If they're gone, if it's over, what comes next?

Madara doesn't believe it is. Cannot accept that they are just -- gone. He gets more involved with their spy network than he ever has before hunting for a hint, and writes the daimyo informing him of the Senju's disappearance, hoping that he will get some answer when the thinly veiled request for dominion over those lands is inevitably rejected.

If your words and the rumors I have heard are true, the reply says, Then I see no reason not to accept the claim your clan has held on those lands.

Convenient, that he only acknowledges it now.

Izuna, for his part, settles on an anger that ebbs and flows between scalding rage and petty annoyance. How dare the Senju avoid the revenge that the Uchiha, that Izuna is owed.

He never lets himself slack off in training during the winter, and despite the circumstances this year is no exception. The Senju are tricky. If that mark was a seal, then Tobirama is no doubt responsible. They'll be back, probably at the most inopportune moment, but he'll be ready. ---

It hadn't been so bad, over the winter. There were normally less fights then, anyways, and they'd gotten by whole seasons without skirmishes before. But in the thaw of spring, somehow the anxiety only coils tighter.

Normally this was when they started finding Senju summons tracking their movements. When they'd inevitably get called into opposing sides under for some noble's border dispute and reignite conflict all over again.

Not this year. Somehow, the trees are quieter even on their side of the river. He shivers, when he realizes, but Izuna refuses to think about just how much of what he'd been used to had been the result of Hashirama's bloodline.

There are more missions than normal, true, but it hardly helps things. Their goal was the defeat the Senju, and denied that --

Some want to start picking new fights already, with old Senju allies. Izuna can't say he disagrees, though he knows it's unwise to do without good reason. Anyone who might have been easy to pick off has already scattered banded together with someone else.

Madara has started drinking more often. Izuna doesn't comment. He knows his brother is far from the only one.

(He's reviewed his memories, over and over, he tells Izuna, but the last time he'd seen them nothing had seemed different. It had been on a battlefield, and Hashirama had shouted for peace, had asked what he needed to do to convince him, and Madara had refused to answer, like always. If that had been an ultimatum, shouldn't there have been more?)

(Izuna has looked over his memories, too, but the only difference in Tobirama that day had been darker bags than usual under his eyes.)

Izuna can't stand the mood around the compound; half of his clan mates are acting more like their lover has died than their enemy. He takes those extra missions, and he goes. And keeps going, for days, for weeks,sometimes only staying home for hours at a time because as long as he's on a mission, he doesn't have to think about it. ---

It's a coastal town in Hot Water country, and Izuna spots a face that he attacks on instinct -- no care for the fact that they're in a public market -- his heart is busy singing not dead, not gone even as he lunges for the throat of the one who made him think it with a kunai.

It's a sloppy move, admittedly. One that Tobirama catches with an unimpressed glare.

"Must you?" He asks.

"Yes!" Izuna cries, dancing back from a returning blow that -- does not come. His breath is coming in heaves, though the fight is hardly started. He's too exited, and that means he'll get sloppy, but Tobirama isn't even in his armor right now, he's dressed down looking all the world like he's grocery shopping, so it might be even.

"You were fucking gone." Izuna accuses, "Don't think I'm about to let you get away without payback for all the lives you've taken."

Tobirama glances at the crowd that's started to form around them -- stupid move, but they haven't started pulling out flashy shinobi moves yet so they probably just think they're about to see a street fight.

"Figures." Tobirama mumbles. "It's been months already. Haven't you started to see the benefits of peace?"

Izuna sneers, draws his sword and lunges, but for some infuriating reason Tobirama is focused only on dodging, not fighting back. He seems -- disappointed, almost, which only makes it worse. How is he supposed to explain that he hasn't, that without the enemies they've all been born and raised to kill, his clan has started to stagnate into something hopeless and pathetic.

Tobirama catches sword against a sleeved kunai with a clang and holds it there.

"Consider that we've had to give up our vendettas against you, too, in doing this." He says, "Just… Move on. It'll be better for everyone."

An odd look passes over his face, one Izuna will replay in his memory over and over and still not understand.

"Goodbye, Izuna."

A crack of thunder breaks through the sunny afternoon air, and Tobirama Senju is gone, like the rest of his clan, without a trace.

As if Izuna intends on letting it stay that way.

[forgottenfourr]

missing something - written ༉‧₊˚.

prev ✮ masterlist ✮ next

it’s crazy how being an mc for something as big for mcountdown used to be something you dreamed about. but now that you’re here, you’re dreading every second of it.

not the mcing part. the having to see gyuvin after completely disappearing and ignoring him for 2 years part.

for all you know this could be his secret revenge plan that will destroy you and everything you stand for.

or he could be dreading this just as much as you are.

it’s eerily quiet when you walk into the dressing room, woonhak tailing close behind you.

it was nice and calm and it almost made you forget about why you were even panicking in the first place.

“woonhak hyung!!”

peaceful moment over.

wait a second.

woonhak? hyung? not correct. merely impossible. he’s 17.

“yujin!!” ah. hak’s squeal of excitement confirms you heard the correct thing at least.

also… when did woonhak and yujin even become friends? and why is yujin even here? do not say you both brought the maknaes as emotional support.

you know turning around would be a big mistake. if you turn around gyuvin is going to be right there and you’re completely content with ignoring his existence until you’re forced to interact with him on stage.

even with how content you are with not turning around right now and just keep walking, woonhak grabs your arm and pulls you towards him. subsequently making you turn around and do the very thing you were trying to avoid right now.

he’s even taller than before. and some how even prettier. it’s surreal almost. seeing the person you’ve ignored but also thought about everyday for the past 827 days.

yes. you kept track.

your heart is racing as you follow his eyes while he takes all of you in. you feel like you’re back in auditions again. waiting as the scouters take in your every last detail.

you want to shrink. dissolve into nothing. just do something to get yourself out of his gaze.

“yn!” woonhak smacks your arm, bringing you back to reality.

“ya! what!” you reply while rubbing where he hit you.

“have you met them before? say hi.” he almost whispers to you. somehow he has taken charge of this situation. and honestly? you’re not going to complain.

“oh uh, yeah. hi nice to meet you yujin.” you bow, your voice lacking any sort of enthusiasm.

you turn to gyuvin hesitantly, “good to see you again gyuvin.” your voice a mere whisper.

gyuvin almost seems to smile and your greeting. causing you to further wish you were anywhere but here right now.

“it’s good to see you too yn,” gyuvin’s voice genuine and a lot stronger than yours.

and just like that, your heart is racing again.

was it panic? fear? stress? you had absolutely no clue.

but it’s racing! and you don’t like it! and the smile on gyuvin’s face is not helping!!

you quickly turn to woonhak, panic most likely evident on your face.

“hey uhm, uh, i gotta uh use the bathroom. i’ll be back.” you manage to sputter out.

and before he can even acknowledge what you just said, you’re almost out of sight already.

SYNOPSIS ✮ a company gave you the opportunity to finally live your dreams, but as a result, you had to leave the company you were at and your best friend. 2 years later you watch as he makes a name of his own on boys planet. the unrequited love you fought away for years coming back stronger than before.

taglist is open!! ༉‧₊˚.

@phtogravi @istphanie @xiaoquanquans @mins-fins @junhuilvrrr @pinklemonade34 @stillalostpdf @gyuricks @thepeachyhub @jaehyuncocksleeve @ashersdeadinside @carmesi-butterfly @haechansbbg

bolded won't let me tag (check permission settings)

[firstelevens]

sambucky + “clue”, perhaps?

further adventures in the mr. and mr. smith au. i know i said there wasn't more. i lied. content warning for a mention of canon-typical medical experiments relating to an infant

None of the movies ever talk about the boring part of spywork. For every infiltration mission and black tie gala, Sam has learned, there's days of poring over data, digging through transcripts and ancient records and trying to find the one little clue that makes the whole search worthwhile.

With all five of them digging through files and case notes, it still takes until late afternoon for one of them to find an answer, buried in a twenty-three page report of the results from a six-month checkup. Sam really only clocks it because he was there for Cass's six-month checkup, driving Sarah into town on a rare visit home. There are all the usual details in the report, but there's also a section labeled 'reflexes' that far outstrips any checkup that Sam has ever heard of.

A little decoding by Nat and Bucky reveals that they were testing the extents of Jack's sensory perception, along with his speed and reaction times. There's a section at the bottom of the page that makes Bucky's jaw go tight when he sees it, and no one stops him when he tells them that he's going to go check on Jack. It's only when Bucky puts the report down that Sam sees a section under the reflex tests labeled 'healing factor.' There are no results in the section, just a reminder to test at a later date, but Sam still feels like he's going to be sick.

Bucky still isn't back downstairs by the time Steve and Nat and Yelena leave for the evening. Sam doesn't know Yelena particularly well, but she hangs back for a moment as the others leave and points to a floral arrangement on the coffee table.

"They had this at the florist by your apartment," she says. "Someone ordered and did not pick it up. I thought maybe I should bring a housewarming present, so..."

"It's beautiful," says Sam, and means it. It has peonies and gardenias, white and pink like the ones that grew in his mother's garden his whole childhood.

"I thought you would like it," Yelena says. Then, after a moment, casting her gaze up to where Bucky disappeared an hour ago: "I don't think he should be alone."

"I know," Sam says. "But I don't know how good he is at letting himself not be alone."

"Probably as good as you are," says Yelena, turning for the door. "What is the proper thing to say here? Thank you for not kicking me out even though I'm your husband's partner and he lied to you for so long?"

"That'll do," he says, around the hysterical urge to laugh. "Thanks for helping, Yelena. And for the flowers."

She nods at him before slipping out the door, and in spite of the rain outside, the house is much too quiet in her absence.

Sam should tidy up, probably, or at least figure out what to do for dinner, but instead his feet carry him up the stairs and towards his bedroom, where he hears the quiet sound of Bucky's voice, and below it the whimpering cry of a baby.

"I know, buddy," Bucky is saying, his voice gentle. "I know it's loud and rumbly. It hurts in your teeth, right? Or your tooth, I guess."

There's a quiet little sob, and a flurry of murmured nonsense from Bucky.

"I know," he says again. "It came out of nowhere, huh? I'm sorry. I know it's bad, but you're safe here, okay? You're safe with us, I promise."

Sam's whole entire heart is lodged in his throat as he peers around the doorframe to see...an empty room? He looks over his shoulder confusedly, like maybe Bucky and Jack will materialize in the darkened room across the hall, but then he hears another hiccuping sob from his own bedroom.

He steps in, looking left and right before he realizes the door to the walk-in closet is ajar, the light turned on. He rounds the door and finds Bucky, sitting on the floor in a nest of blankets with Jack settled against his chest.

"The thunder woke him up," Bucky says, something defensive in his posture as soon as Sam appears. "It was worse by the windows, so I thought..."

"No, it was a good call," says Sam. "Is it easier for h- for both of you in here? Quieter?"

"A little, yeah," says Bucky. "I have practice filtering things out, but it'll still be new for him. Too much stimuli is bad for anyone."

Sam glances up at the bright fluorescent light in the closet. "I'll be right back," he says, and ducks out again.

He finds what he's looking for in the nursery and plugs it in just out of Bucky's line of sight, reaching up to flick off the light switch as he does and filling the space with soft, orange-y light from the small nightlight that Sam had put in the other room.

Jack makes a quiet noise that could be anything, but Bucky's quiet sigh of relief is audible. "Thank you," he says, his voice soft.

"Wait, is this why you hate the recessed lighting in the apartment so much?" asks Sam, before he realizes what he's saying. "I mean--"

"Kind of, yeah," says Bucky. "The lamps are better."

They're both quiet for a moment, thinking of the home that they share and the stupid, precious debates that have colored the last four years of their lives. From his spot on Bucky's chest, Jack makes a soft noise.

"I'm looking for new apartments," Bucky tells Sam, when he finally speaks again. "You can leave my name on the lease as long as you need, but I just figured I should- I figured it made sense, is all."

"You don't have to leave," Sam says, instead of please don't go. "That's not- I wasn't even thinking about that. You don't have to."

"Yeah," says Bucky, sounding tired all of a sudden. "I do."

Sam wants to protest, wants to tell Bucky that he has to stay, actually, because how will they find their way out of this if Bucky just up and leaves? But then he thinks about the file, about how part of HYDRA's attempts to break Bucky involved lying to him every day, about every detail they could think of, just to leave him unmoored. He thinks about the four years where he was so desperate to keep Bucky safe from what he did at work that he lied to his husband day in and day out.

"If that's what you want," he says. "Who am I to stop you?"

Bucky doesn't acknowledge his words with more than a nod. "The storm's getting closer," he says instead. "We'll probably have to close that door, so if you want to step out..."

But something stubborn kicks up in Sam's chest, quiet and determined. He turns to the door, but closes it instead of stepping through, then crosses over to the stretch of wall where Bucky sits with Jack and squeezes in beside him. It's not the most comfortable position. He has to brace his arm on his knee, because he's wedged between Bucky's solid frame and a wall, and Bucky has always run hot, so Sam is immediately over-warm in the pullover that had seemed so sensible an hour ago.

There's an exasperated sigh from Bucky, but Sam refuses to acknowledge it, turning his attention instead to Jack, who's turned his head to face Sam, his brown eyes wide and attentive.

Sam holds out a finger, sweeps it gently over Jack's chubby cheek.

"You're okay, baby," he murmurs, as Jack reaches out and grips his sleeve in a tiny fist. He hears a soft exhale, watches Jack move with the rise and fall of Bucky's chest. "You're safe here, I promise."

Beside him, Bucky lets out another shuddering breath. Sam keeps his eyes on Jack.

"I'm sorry no one was there before," he says, bowing his head to kiss Jack's hand. "But you're not alone anymore, and now you're safe."

Jack coos again, blinking sleepily at Sam. If there's a spot or two where a tear has fallen, just above where Jack's head rests on Bucky's shirt, Sam pretends he doesn't see it.

[jeannereames]

Did Christianity change the perception of Alexander in a meaningful way?

Perhaps a bit surprisingly, the rise of Christianity didn’t really alter perceptions of Alexander that much, largely for two reasons.

First, imperial authors (both Greek and Latin) had already shaped those perceptions according to popular philosophic virtues—using Alexander as either an exempla of Bad Behavior or of Proper Restraint (or both, depending on the writer).

Second, in an attempt to gain acceptance, or at least tolerance, for Christianity among the larger Roman imperial public, some early Christian theologians began presenting Christianity as a form of philosophy (Justin Martyr and Origen are good examples, as well as Augustine later). Some non-Christian philosophers fought back directly (Celsus and Plotinus, most notably), and some Christian authors actively resisted this “philosophizing” of Christianity (Tertullian). Yet several philosophic ideas (and ideals) seeped into early Christian thought in ways that might have surprised Jesus.

Probably the most influential were Neoplatonism (thank you, Origen), and Stoicism. Notions of self-control, ataraxia (equilibrium), and asceticism folded into Christianity as early as Paul, but certainly by Justin Martyr (early/middle first century CE) and Origen (early second century CE). These then became part of Christian discourse. Christian Gnosticism, after all, is just a particular flavor of gnostic thought found throughout the Mediterranean and ancient near east. Gnosticism owes to Neoplatonism mixing with an influx of Persian and Hindu notions that had floated west even before Alexander but certainly accelerated after. (One could even debate to what degree Plato himself was influenced by eastern ideas; after all, philosophy was born in Asia Minor with Thales & Friends, then bypassed mainland Greece for a bit to land in Sicily and south Italy. Athens was a johnny-come-lately to the party.)

In any case, “Alexander” had already been firmly situated in philosophic and rhetorical discourse in ways that were easily adopted and adapted by Church theologians. He remained a negative example of anger and worldly ambition, and a positive one of (military) leadership and physical (especially sexual) restraint.

One might point to the elimination of Alexander’s bisexual interests as Christianizing, but that’s too simple. We already find Roman literature headed that way. Romans had mixed receptions of “Greek love,” even when expressed “properly” between older men and younger boys/male slaves. It’s Roman Curtius who gives us the very negative impact of the eunuch Bagoas as part of the larger depiction of Alexander corrupted by Eastern (Asian) influence. It’s also Curtius, however, who gives us clues to other (freeborn) boys who may have been Alexander’s beloveds, but always presented in coded language as “favorites.” There’s more to say about that, but it depicts pretty well, imo, the Roman mixed mind on the matter. Also, Plutarch’s presentation of Alexander’s indignation when offered pretty boys is, even now, used by those who want to deny Alexander’s interest in males. While we can quibble over exactly what Plutarch meant Alexander to object to (it’s important to contextualize where this anecdote appears), it’s certainly not the open praise of beautiful boys found in, say, the poetry of Solon.

None of that is Christian.

Also—and conversely—we find several Renaissance-and-later paintings that depict Hephaistion and Alexander, some homoeroticized, such as the tapestry made from LeBrun’s sketch of Alexander taking leave of Hephaistion (by kissing him). Yes, kissing was a normal hello and goodbye, but the overtones are, imo, intentional.

It’s really not until the latter 1800s that Hephaistion starts to disappear from ATG discourse as heightened homophobic fears require him to be excised from Alexander’s narrative to protect the conqueror from THOSE allegations. Yes, that’s related to Christianity, but I’d argue it’s more about rising homophobia in Europe, even if Christianity is used as the excuse—just as slavery pre-existed Christianity, but Christianity was later employed to justify its continuation.

So, perhaps surprisingly, no, Christianity didn’t significantly alter popular consciousness of Alexander.

I’m not a specialist on the Alexander Romance, but it’s here you’d find more obvious Christianizing, and Islamizing, as well. Look up the work of Richard Stoneman on the Romance. Also checkout Ken Moore’s Brill's Companion to the Reception of Alexander the Great.

[lotuslovers]

‘Running from love’ // t.r part 4

Pairing: female!potter(james’ sister) x Tom Riddle

wc: 1.6 k

Summary: In the past, the reader hadn't hope to fall in love with him, their goal was to prevent the rise of the Dark Lord but nothing seemed to go as planned when they are sent back into the future. In the months following the return, Tom Riddle continues to haunt their nightmares and their new reality as he closes in on them. How can an old love cause so much harm? 

Trigger warnings: none

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | tbc

How does one set up a meeting with the Dark Lord? I suppose you can’t just owl his assistant for available time slots. She had no clue about his whereabouts so she decided it was time to owl one of their closest friends, Abraxas Malfoy. After a long drawn out night, she attempted to compose a letter by rewriting it time and time again until she knew it was sculpted to perfection. She sent the letter off in a black envelope to the owl post office to be set out. The letter read:

Dear Abraxas,

It comes in time where I reach back out to you, to my dismay it is under these circumstances. I understand it has been many years, decades since you have last heard from me but hopefully you haven't forgotten me. My letter regards my Tom, the attached letter is to reach him, I haven’t a clue where he is so if you could pass it to him I would be thankful. My friend, hopefully you are well, I am doing quite fine, I can’t address what happened to me or why I disappeared, that is for another letter. How are things? Must be a lot of things we can address in the future, perhaps over a cup of tea, you always told me those were for serious talks. Until then and when I am ready, this will be all until I send a letter back. You mustn’t send a letter in response or attempt to charm one my may, I prefer my location a secret. So be kind enough to not try for all attempts will fail. Best regards, Malfoy.

Sincerely,

Y.O’C

P.s please make sure Tom personally gets it and only he reads it. 

Tom’s letter read:

Dear Tom,

My dearest, I never intended to leave all those years ago. I intended to stay with you, to love you to my best capability, to perhaps have you round’ my folks home, meet my family, get married, have kids, and grow old together. Our time together was cut short, for reasons I must’n disclose in a letter but in person. I will explain it all if you will let me. I know what you have done yet I still love you as much as the last day I had in your presence, I ask that you give me a chance to explain. You don’t have to but I wish to at least explain, in case I get my Tom back to me or atleast get closure for the both of us. If you are willing to meet me, I ask you don’t be angry with me and you come alone as I will. The location hasn’t been chosen yet, as I haven’t thought of a place but I will send an owl to Abraxas to give to you as I don’t know your location, I trust you will abide by my wishes and wait for my owl. Meet me at 12 pm on June 16, location will be owled at a later date. I love you Tom, please don’t ever forget it. 

Sincerely yours,

Y.O’C

∞

Sending the letter was half the trouble, the real issue was following through with the meeting. I hoped it would only be me and him but even just the two of us alone had uneased myself. Besides Regulus, no one knew I had gone to meet him and even then he had no idea the date or location of where it was agreed.

On the brisk morning, I apparated to a small secluded area in the English countryside. Walking along the cobblestone steps, slowing up to the dark mahogany doors of the long gone manor I pulled the cloak closer over my head. The grand house succumbed to the vines that began to grow up the sides of the once incredulous architecture. The family home of the Riddles had long gone, becoming an estate, only being in good enough condition to still stand. When preventing Tom from killing his father, his dad started a new family that continued the line. Here I was shivering with the knowledge he would be inside waiting for me, possibly awaiting to kill me but he hadn’t yet so I continued. Pushing the door open, a small squeak of the rusty hinges let out through the air before returning to silence as I closed it behind me. The layout of the house reminded me of the Malfoy Manor, tall doors lining the walls ushering out to separate wings or presumed ballrooms and the giant sturdy staircase lined with oil portraits. I wondered how different he would have turned out if Tom Riddle SR. accepted to raise him, instead of being stuck with the croon Mrs. Cole. 

The farthest door on the left was ajar, the faint light of a fire along with candles were the only indications of another person being here with me. Making sure to pull my hood over my eyes whilst tucking my wand in my pocket I sturdied myself before opting to continue down the hall. Silence hung through the air besides the content click of my boots on the wooden floor, passing a few door frames I made it to the open one. Peering into the room, it appeared to be a study lined with bookshelves filled to the brim with a variety of books. In the center of the room was a lit fireplace in front of a set of couches. The center couch was a dark figure of a man, she knew it was him from the moment she set eyes on his side profile. 

The posture was a give away, along with the book he held in his palms, his diary. His hair was in a tight set of dark brown curls, his skin gleamed with warmth allowing it to dance along his face, his posture was perfect but loose, in his hand opposite to his diary was a cup of firewhiskey, his face was hardly a day older then when you last saw him. Your presence was known but he didn’t glance your way, hiding behind your cloak and the shadows just basking in the way his presence calmed you. Finally closing his book before setting his cup down he spoke “i supposed you would use her as a rouise eventually Albus, such a pity you had to be the first to die in this disgraced house” he twirled his hand before his wand appeared out of thin air.

Glancing up at the doorway, his eyes burned with full fury as he assumed Dumbledore was here. But fearing the worse you spoke softly “Tommy” he instantly froze. 

 “y/n?” his voice shook as you nodded behind shadows of the low pulled hood. “Come on, I know this is a  trick, Dumbledore give up and show yourself” he pointed his wand at you, shaking his anger as he stood up abruptly. Seeing him in person was surreal, you were sure tears were streaming down your face, still hiding in the shadows. “It's me Tom” you spoke, approaching him, faced down as your voice broke. “It can’t be” he said, almost trying to convince himself but in an instant he surged toward you, pinning you to the wall. 

He dug his wand up your jugular where it lay just on top of your pulse point, just as he had so many times in those awful nightmares. His rough palms grabbed your chin, finally lifting it to meet his eager gaze. Tilting it up so far that your hood sunk down, revealing her face to his eager eyes. Standing inches away from his face as he let the shock set it. His breath hitches in his throat, his shoulders tensed before he dropped his wand and pulling you into a tight hug. Nuzzling up into your hair, he caressed your cheek and drank in your appearance as if it was the last thing he got to see. “It's been years, why have you just found me my love” he spoke finally letting his own sobs echo through the air. “why don't you look a day older than when I last saw you?” he mumbled into her hair as he pulled you closer down to his shoulder. You finally broke, “Oh Tom, I missed you so much. I can explain everything I promise just let me hug you”. The experience was surreal, he picked you up to bring you both to the couch. Lying cuddled up, his deep breaths tethered you to reality. He had aged in the past decades, the young boy now grew into an older man. The dark brown hair of his was now parted in the middle with loose curls now framing an older more angular face. His eyes sparkled in a new sheen, the past version you knew was so far away. 

“Can you explain now?” he asked, lifting a hand to rub the hot tears off your cheeks. 

“I will” she said, but now nothing was certain. He had wanted to kill her, but now he hadn’t. He had only wished to when he thought she was Albus, only then was she truly in danger. Now, his aged self comforted the girl in such a scenario no one would have expected. How could she admit the truth, how she existed then only to prevent his own casualties? Could anyone reason to the implication that she loved him to save him, how could he react?

She wanted to greedily enjoy the silence between the both, pretending they had fallen asleep on the Slytherin homeroom’s couch again when they were young. But they weren’t kids anyone, she had lived this year of her life two times already and for Riddle he soaked up the decades away from her, building his power. They had both changed, now they only held ideas of one another but they wanted so badly to fall back in time to before the night their whole worlds paused. 

[telomeke-bbs]

On my third re-watch of Bad Buddy, I've been doing a bit more reading of the comments on YouTube, which I presume will disappear if the series is removed now that it's going to Viki.

I notice from the YouTube comments at least some people think PatPran were having sex at least as early as episode 8, while I took the start of their sex life as episode 11 which was when they made it clear.

Given the lack of R scenes in the series (no complaints, if it's a great series I'm happy either way) it's hard to say for sure. I tend to be on the literal side so need more direct indications that a sex scene is about to occur or has just occurred. I'm wondering where the clues might be that others are tuning into and I've missed.

If you've already written about this please feel free to link.

SEX??? IN MY BBS???!!! 👀

Hi dear friend @pandasmagorica! 😍 You're so right that Bad Buddy doesn't show us any of PatPran's lovemaking directly, and like you I didn't miss it at all…

But before I go any further, I should insert a trigger warning here for the sex-averse among anybody else who might be reading this – sex talk incoming! (I'll be avoiding some of the coarser language as that's not my style, but I will be mentioning some details of man-on-man sex if I have to…) So minors please stay away!

‌

Like so much of BBS (e.g., the actual relationship between Ming and Dissaya in high school, Ming's relationship with his father, Pat's descent into his gangster era after his high school rupture with Pran, the foundations of Wai and Pran's friendship), Pat and Pran having sex is one aspect of their relationship that was alluded to but not shown to us graphically onscreen.

For me this was in keeping with the narrative style of Bad Buddy as a whole (in which we the viewers had to fill in some gaps ourselves), as well as its preference to focus on the emotional dynamics of their love story, rather than showing us every physical manifestation of their liaison.

On my initial watch I too thought that PatPran's first physical coupling only happened in Ep.11, during their honeymoon at the Zero Waste Village. I settled into this conclusion primarily because we weren't shown any overt depiction of the boys hooking up physically – and also because of one moment at Ep.9 [3‌/4]:

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.9 [3‌/4] 5.38 – Pat and Pran chorus "Not yet" at Korn, when asked if they'd been having sex

When Korn is made to wait before being admitted into Pran's apartment by a nearly-naked Pat – only to see a disheveled Pran in bed, and the bedclothes all awry – he assumes (at Ep.9 [3‌/4] 5.36) that Pat and Pran's sexy time was the reason for the delay. But his assumption is met with an indignant "Not yet" chorused by both Pat and Pran in unison, and this to me (at the time of my first watch) was telegraphing the message that the boys were resolutely putting off sex until they were both ready for it later.

But there's really nothing to suggest why they should be doing this (other than maybe Pran getting a case of the ick whenever Pat gets too sappily romantic and/or touchy-feely – understandable, and certainly not insurmountable for one so much in love).

And for me this view of a sexless, virginal Pat and Pran pre-Ep.11 didn't gel with the other details that became apparent on subsequent re-watches. It's possible the "yang" that Pat and Pran chorused (at Ep.9 [3‌/4] 5.38) may have an affective sense of negation that is somewhat different from the plain "no" or "not yet" suggested by the subtitles (though I haven't been able to find any confirmation of it online). But anyway I now think that they were just telling Korn that he'd caught them right before the main event (which is supported by Korn's embarrassment, and also Pat saying he wouldn't mind being late for dinner with the guys if he could just get a "reward" from Pran, at Ep.9 [3‌/4] 4.11 and 4.27). 😂

There are also some other clues pointing to the likelihood that Pat and Pran were not waiting to indulge in the physical side of their love, well before the clearly pre- and post-coital scenes that we see onscreen later in Episodes 11 and 12.

The Sexual Tension: From early on Pat and Pran had a track record of getting right up in each other's personal space, in tableaux of their own making absolutely saturated with sexual tension. These two, but especially Pat, demonstrated time and again that not only were they comfortable getting physically close to each other, there seemed to be an unspoken need to do so as well.

Pran deep in his crush was fighting it all the way (witness him pushing Pat away all the time), while Pat's motivations were a bit less clear (and yet he was almost always the one to initiate close encounters of the physical kind).

Some examples of this–

Ep.1 [3‌/4] 1.13 (when they were hiding from Korn, Mo and Chang in the side alley of the faculty Chemical Room):

‌

Ep.2 [1‌/4] 6.23 (in the toilet cubicle, when Pat "forgot" he'd not washed his hands before clamping it on Pran's mouth in some kind of an unconscious sublimation – Pran wasn't making any sound and his mouth was closed, but Pat couldn't help himself anyway 😂):

‌

Ep.2 [4/4] 11.21 (when they both realized, however subconsciously, that their competitive grappling at the apartment viewing had begun to take on strangely erotic overtones – patently obvious to all, even the hapless real estate agent who inadvertently burst in on them):

‌

Ep.4 [4/4] 3.41 (the rugby clinch, leading to Pat's line "If you hug me this tight, you might as well take me as your boyfriend" – sexual and other significance explained here):

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And of course Ep.5 [4/4] 11.53 (The Kiss, that literally and figuratively sucked away all oxygen from people on either side of the screen – their yearning, physical hunger for each other was already so evident each time it bubbled to the surface, but of course its explosive climax was when they both admitted it overtly to each other, during this Epic Rooftop Kiss at the end of Ep.5):

‌

BBS actually shows us Pat staying over at Pran's apartment and sharing the one bed in Ep.8 (at Ep.8 [1‌/4] 1.28. Nong Nao's presence in Pran's bed means that Pat must have been there before he got up to make breakfast; at Ep.8 [1‌/4] 5.34 Pat himself confirms that he spends nights at Pran's, "rehearsing" certain aspects of the Kwan and Riam play, in its BL reincarnation).

Given how much sexual tension is on display from early on, it seems only logical to me that there must have been some rumpy-pumpy hanky-panky going on below the waist, even though we don't get to see it onscreen. Indeed, Pa tells us as much with her observation on the morning after another such "rehearsal": 😂

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.8 [1‌/4] 5.46

Nong Nao as Agent of (Sexual) Subterfuge:  In my opinion, another big tell that Pat and Pran were already doin' the deed (or at least going beyond second base) is even earlier, at Ep.7 [2/4] 5.36, when we learn that Pat had left Nong Nao behind in Pran's apartment.

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.10 [1‌/4] 8.53

We know that Pat hugs Nong Nao to fall asleep (he says so at Ep.4 [4/4] 11.30 and Ep.7 [2/4] 5.46). But the reason behind this is that Pat needs Nong Nao – his Linus blanket – to calm his fears when he's psychologically vulnerable, alone with his own thoughts and dreams (analyzed here). It doesn't make sense that he would be carrying Nong Nao around with him outside and away from his own bed, unless it was for sleepy-time comfort – so how did Rotten Little One end up in Pran's apartment?

Pat wouldn't have brought Nong Nao over to Pran's unless he knew he'd be staying the night. For example, we see this when he sneaks over to spend the night with Pran at Ep.12 [3‌/4] 4.37 – though why he'd need to kimono-cloak himself with the bedclothes like that is a little beyond me:

Maybe this is BBS emphasizing Nong Nao's role as Pat's security blanket, swaddling him in protection from his night-time fears? 🤷‍♂️ (Or is Pat naked under those bedcovers? His lust for Pran is so great he doesn't want to waste even the few seconds it would take to strip once he's with his beloved? 🤣)

Anyway, Nong Nao left behind in Pran's apartment suggests that Pat was already sleeping there as early as Ep.7. It could be possible that it was for other reasons, but I refuse to kid myself – we're talking about two young men deep in the heady flush of hormonal (and fully reciprocated) teenage love here. Given their pre-existing propensity for physical closeness (that mirrored their emotional intimacy), I can't imagine Pat and Pran would be keeping their hands off each other in private for long.

So when Pat left Nong Nao behind in Ep.7 (a ploy of course, to get Pran over for more), I really don't think he had been spending time in Pran's apartment just so they could study building construction together… any more than they would be chastely reading scriptures or practicing quilting. 😂

And of course when Pran went over to Pat's apartment to return Nong Nao, the situation soon devolved into a mutual seduction exercise that even referenced the passionate Ep.5 Rooftop Kiss (Pran's "Do you still want us to be friends?" at Ep.7 [2/4] 9.59).

‌On my re-watch, I think the competitive roughhousing we witness in Ep.7 [2/4] is actually Pat and Pran's own version of foreplay prior to actual intercourse – and they most certainly would have gone there had they not been interrupted by Pa and her wayward bladder (hence their guilty looks when she bursts in on them; they definitely had almost been caught in flagrante delicto, which Pat then has to sublimate away with bare-bodied crunches while Pran abandons the food he'd brought – and we know food is also often a stand-in for sex in Thai BL, referenced for example at Ep.12 [2/4] 11.54).

Food and Sex:  Another scene where food was used as a metaphor for sex, that also suggests Pat and Pran had already been gettin' it on well before we see them in the afterglow of their Ep.11 honeymoon passions, took place during their cookout with Junior by the beach (scene starting at Ep.11 [2/4] 2.43):

Laced with lots of meaningful glances between Pat and Pran, the dialogue was peppered with several suggestive lines (mostly from Pat, but also acknowledged with knowing – if rueful – smiles from Pran) hinting at more adult meanings within the word play (all thankfully opaque to young Junior):

"All I do is eat" – the verb "to eat" in Thai (กิน/gin) is also slang for "to consume (someone) sexually";

"…I do many things for my lover too" – suggesting that Pat and Pran were already having sex;

"Like what?"… "Wait until you're older" – Pat shut down Junior's line of questioning, because the subject was unmissably adult (to the adults in the room).

And Junior's innocent comment "You don't have to pound it so hard. Cover it with your hand – it's spattering" also got Pran chuckling silently, because it coincidentally fit with his and Pat's subtextual zingers about their sex life even while all of that hidden discourse was flying above Junior's head (and rightly so too).

Pat also points a cucumber at Pran while admonishing Junior, further upping the innuendo quotient – basically his answer to "Tell me you're talking about sex without telling me you're talking about sex" 😂. (The Thai word for cucumber – แตงกวา/dtaaeng gwaa – is also slang for penis; see this Wiktionary entry linked here: ภาษาปาก, สแลง – อวัยวะเพศชาย.)

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.11 [2/4] 3.49

It could be possible that Pat and Pran had sex the night before, but I think that's highly unlikely given how exhausted they were after their bus journey to the beach. (Plus they were expected to be up early enough to earn their keep helping the fishermen.) I suppose you could read Pat's hijinks at the cookout as him setting the scene for their nuptial relations to come, i.e., that they hadn't done it before but were heading to it now, which was my asexual take on it the first time around watching this. But this doesn't align with what Pat and Pran tell us on the beach later, and I changed my mind on subsequent re-watches. 😉

Beer and "Kisses" on the Rocks:  When Pat and Pran have their heartfelt tête-à-tête on the rocky breakwater at Khao Tao Beach (scene starting at Ep.11 [3‌/4] 9.50), there is a line of questioning that confirms (for me at least) they not only had been intimate before, but that they'd also been alternating their roles in bed.

What they say is perhaps open to some degree of interpretation, but I can't see how it could mean anything else…

When Pat says at Ep.11 [3‌‌/4] 12.50 "Here comes the last question. Can I kiss you?" it seemed straightforward enough at first viewing – another of BBS's nods at consent perhaps, with the boys turning quaintly Victorian about physical contact. But it's discordant with the energies we've seen them display before – at the Chem. Room alleyway, in the toilet cubicle, and on the rooftop in Ep.5. It's true the first two times Pat invaded Pran's personal space because he was trying to save him; and the third time he gave ample notice of his intentions. But the boys had never been coy with each other, so Pat suddenly turning into a bashful knight wordily asking for permission to kiss really makes no sense.

Then, however, Pran's response of "Isn't it my turn?" really puts Pat's question into context, and I think it qualifies as a lightbulb moment that illuminates an aspect of their hitherto mostly hidden sex life.

Yes, it is possible to read Pran's insistence ("No. It's my turn") as the boys simply taking turns at being the first to initiate lip-to-lip action, but even my ever-forgiving fan theorist's brain finds that too contrived an explanation. Plus PatPran's kisses are hardly about energy in one direction only – since each gives as good as he receives (e.g., at Ep.5 [4/4] 11.53 and Ep.11 [3‌/4] 13.27).

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.11 [3‌/4] 13.33 – is it really possible to take turns when doing this?

All this talk about taking turns really makes no sense – unless it's not actually about kisses.

My read is that the word จูบ/juup (whose dictionary definition is to kiss) is really PatPran's codeword for whoever gets to top the other during sex (like the verb baiser in French, which does similar semantic double duty). This also tells us that our two versatile scamps, both alike in dignity, had been alternating roles in bed like two gentlemen Romeos indeed… and trust our pernickety Pran to be keeping a record of who did what the last time! 😂

The fact that they have a working system in place with the rules of engagement already defined (and that Pat is seeking to deviate from) suggests that this isn't something novel that they just came up with in the days before.

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.11 [3‌/4] 14.00 – prelude to a "juup"

And getting graphical in an aside here for a moment – since prostate orgasms are typically far more intense than the other kinds men can experience, what we're also seeing here is Pat and Pran jostling to see who can give the other the gift of greater pleasure (and in doing so deriving a substantial measure of it for themselves too). It's consistent with the competitive drumbeat to which their couplehood thrums and marches, and is also a microcosm of their relationship as a whole – that whenever one of them lets his lover win, he gets to win as well too. 🤩

Anyway, Pran flat-out refuses to give up his turn (Ep.11 [3‌/4] 13.15), and the idea that kiss = top is borne out by his questions as the big spoon later – "Was I good?... How much do I get, out of ten?" (Ep.11 [3‌/4] 14.55 and 15.07).

I have more information about this exchange in my write-up linked here – Pat's sign language response really also points very strongly to the conclusion that Pran did top Pat on their honeymoon night. 🥰

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.11 [3‌/4] 15.25 – a satisfied Pat uses wordless symbolism to tell expert sign-reader Pran that his performance the night before deserves a top score of 10

So based on this record of alternating bedroom roles, I now truly do believe Pat and Pran had been having sex from way before (maybe even as early as Ep.7), not only going the whole distance but also taking turns equally at giving and receiving. Pran's insistence on his "turn" wouldn't have made much sense otherwise. And this was BBS also putting paid to the fascination some fans have for the formulaic stereotyping about seme/uke and top/bottom roles in BL.

P.S. Now in spite of all that I've written above, I do concede that a lot of it is based on inference and clue-reading, and that it's still possible to read Pat and Pran as doing nothing more than making out and heavy petting, right up until Ep.11. A possible reason might be a reluctance on Pran's part to go all the way (perhaps BBS playing with the blushing maiden trope?), given how much exasperation he shows whenever Pat turns clingy (e.g., at Ep.9 [2/4] 5.21, Ep.9 [3‌/4] 4.29 and Ep.11 [1‌/4] 15.19, though it's also evident he's always charmed by Pat's antics despite himself). The boys also could have begun taking turns in their matrimonial bed only after they got to the Zero Waste Village, though I don't see how they could have had the time for more than a single go (especially since they were all tired out by the family drama of Ep.10 and their journey to get to the beach). And this would make Pran's "Isn't it my turn?" a little odd, since phrasing it as a question implies enough rounds for them to be unclear on whose turn it should be. Plus (as previously mentioned) the use of the codeword kiss implies it's already an established system (i.e., not created in the previous few days) that they both understand. Like I said, it's possible – but given the ensemble of clues and signs pointing at PatPran's sex life, I really do not think it is likely. It could be that Director Aof and team were skirting the sexual dimension in order to tone BBS down enough to make it past the censors for more general viewing (and in this way allow its message to reach the younger generation as well). Thus the greater reliance on innuendo and inference to suggest rather than show outright that there was more going on between the lines (behind the curtain? Noting that the novel on which BBS is based is titled Behind the Scenes 🤩) with regard to physical love between Pat and Pran (and is an apt metaphor for the storytelling of BBS as a whole, where nothing is as it seems at first glance – discussed more in detail in my write-up linked here). And this is possibly the meaning underlying the innuendo-laden cookout with Junior – the scene is a capsule summary of BBS where the surface theatrics are inoffensive enough for viewing by the younger set, while the more adult themes embedded in the narrative will become visible only if you look at them with more experienced eyes, and thus will satisfy more mature audiences as well. The end result isn't as anodyne as My School President (nor could it have been, given the weightiness of the encoded themes) but BBS still managed to land the 13+ age rating, which isn't at all bad if they were wanting to get its important messaging about LGBTQ+ positivity out to younger teens. And that messaging would be further reinforced, and with even less sexual content – zero in my book – when MSP hit the screens later of course. 💖

‌ P.P.S. This is not 100% related, but I have to put in a little side-note here about Pran's comfort object (his PP hobo bag). In my head I'm convinced part of why that bag works for Pran as his security blanket is not just because it's a physical shield or something to hold on to when out and about.

(above) Bad Buddy Ep.11 [1‌/4] 4.24 – Pat and Pran arrive once more at the Zero Waste Village, but this time around they're a confirmed couple seeking refuge for their forbidden love

I think Pran's comfort object also functions like a Mary Poppins Bag of Requirement, allowing him to carry all sorts of stuff to counter any eventuality life might throw his way, and thus also bestowing on him a sense of control in the outside world. Now gay sex can sometimes be a messy affair – but knowing canon OCD Pran, I'm pretty sure that bag held all the necessary accoutrements for our boys to have a smooth, muss-free and fuss-free ride on their honeymoon romps, and with easy clean-up assured afterwards as well… 😉

‌

[teabreakpancakes]

omg, can I request Wu Chang x Gn reader?? I need some angst in my life :') Reader stopped writing in their diary as hunter and disappearing Wu didn't notice until a couple days later . Xie and Fan started asking everyone where they went/what happened to them. The rest is up to you whether you think The Manor owner starts to feel bad and idk return them from the dead LOL or they just gone

Fleeting Light Wu Chang x GN Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Bi'an nears their usual meeting spot, a bright smile on his face as he passes the hedge concealing a small space in the garden. His eyebrows furrow and his grip on the umbrella tightens when he doesn't see them.

"That's odd.. we usually meet here at around this hour and yet they aren't here yet" he mumbled under his breath. He shakes his head, fixing his faltering smile before looking down at the umbrella. "They're probably just late, we should wait for them" he said, talking to Fan.

Fan furrows his eyebrows, pacing around anxiously from within the umbrella, a sense of foreboding falling over him. "Let's check their diary, perhaps it'll mention something about where they are, it's not like they were in their room or in any other areas of the manor" he spoke, a small wry smile painting his face, thinking about how they could possibly be pulling their usual tricks on them.

With long strides, Bi'an makes his way to your room, bypassing Michiko who peered at him with worried eyes. Entering your room, he scans the area, immediately going for your journal the moment his eyes landed on it.

They both swore they heard a thud, their unbeating hearts dropping. There have been no entries for four days. It was an unspoken rule that every resident, no matter if you were a hunter or survivor, had to write in their journal; no more pages? a new one would appear, threw it out? it would return—no one had the right to stop writing in that cursed book, for if you did, you would be given a harsh warning that seemed more like a horrid punishment you'd receive from someone who knew all your fears.

If you hadn't written a single thing in your journal, and if you haven't been used as an example to those who dared to go against the owner's wishes, then that could only mean one thing—you were either gone forever or, you went missing in one of the original maps.

Was it when you were put in the Darkwoods? but... the survivors didn't have any matches there, they hadn't for months.

Without any words, Bi'an rushed out, teleporting to the waiting room. He looked through all of the rooms, searching for miss Nightingale. Fan could only grit his teeth in frustration, Where the hell were you? ran through his head, desperate for any sort of clue.

Bi'an's violet eyes meet miss Nightingales' void ones. He rushes towards the robot, "Where is hunter (Name)?" he asks, tone laced with a profound amount of urgency that shocked her. Never in her time has she heard Bi'an of all people sounding so urgent.

"I do not know" she replies, a tinge of regret evident in her tone. She could see violet eyes trembling with an emotion she couldn't decipher. "They have not been present in the manor for four days" she adds, slowly exiting the room. Before she's fully out of the door, she hears a low yet uncharacteristically solemn "Thank you" from Bi'an, and she swears that she can feel the despair rolling off from those very words.

Days pass, weeks pass, has it perhaps been months? neither of the guards knew anymore; with each match, with each and every one of their movements, they could feel themselves slipping from their usual selves.

They no longer cared much about climbing the ranks as hunters, only ever going hard in matches if they felt that the pain and the emptiness was too insufferable. While they used to at least take a few bites of food, they no longer did so, not without you pestering them to try the new dishes.

The other residents of the manor knew just how much you meant to the hunters, you were their lifeline, the reason they smiled, they reason they were so outgoing on occasion. Without you, they were void of the very thing they needed to live.

Both men felt frustrated with themselves, once more, you've slipped through their fingertips. They missed you, your sweet smiles, your childish banter, your presence—YOUR EVERYTHING.

There was not a day where they wouldn't search for you, daring to venture into all of the areas in search of you; no one could stop them from doing so, no one had the heart to, not when they were so persistent.

Every day, they woke up to the reality of you not being by their side—they felt that if this were to continue, they'd attempt to kill themselves once more, what worth is a living a life without you?

It's been 172 days since we've last saw you dear, just where are you? Bi'an wondered, brushing his fingers against the beautiful engagement ring on his ring finger.

He thinks back to the days where you three were still human, laughing with Wujiu about the memories of you nagging at them repeatedly. For the first time in a while, a smile graces both their faces, albeit being a bittersweet one.

Both men fall asleep together in bed, dreaming of you.

With a soft creak, their door swings open. A head peeks through, wispy (colour) locks disheveled. Slowly, the figure of their loved one approaches them on the bed.

Crystal tears are streaming from their eyes, wiping away the tears falling from Bi'an and Wujiu's faces. "I, I missed you guys so much" they whisper, their own tears falling on their faces.

Their eyes flutter open, wondering about whether or not they were dreaming. Before them, their darling knelt between them, crying into their bandaged hands.

Both men reach out to their "dream", taking away their hands from their face. They brush away their tears gently, as if having done so numerous times.

"I wish... you were actually here" Wujiu muttered, placing both of his hands in his lap with a sad sigh. Curious eyes stare at him, "I am though? the owner put me back?" attempting to wipe at their nose.

They receive dead stares from Bi'an and Wujiu and for a moment, it feels as if time has stopped. Both men snap out of it, pulling their lover into their arms.

"Where did you go?!" "Why did you leave us?!" they both shouted out, crying into your back as they sandwiched you between them.

Surely, you had a lot to explain.

i have learned what hurt/comfort is! ... i think?

@mirology , so like, is this that hurt/comfort thingy?

[aita-blorbos]

wibta for continuing to refuse to tell my dad about my existence for over a year?

so i (24nb) was raised in new york by my mom with my 3 half-siblings, and spent a lot of my early life wondering about my dad (who i’d never met, and my mom didn’t know much about, lol) long story short some shit happened, i got disowned by my mom and still have a relationship with my older half-brother (jury’s still out on my younger half-siblings but i dont expect them to talk to me anytime soon lol) and so i was basically… drifting for several years until i found myself in california and settled down, went to college, and then for… complicated reasons the city i was in basically became an active warzone. my (now) fiancee (27f) saved me and i finished college and started a business as a pi. funnily enough, even though i wasn’t still actively looking for info anymore, i have a pretty distinctive appearance, and based on that and some timeline clues i was able to figure out who my dad is. i was unsure whether to pursue a relationship with that side of my family or whatever bc i already had a pretty established life outside of my family and being on my own has been kinda. a staple of my life since i was 15, but it didn’t matter as much bc he and his sibling were missing, so the only member of that family i had access to was my cousin.

which is where we get to him

so my cousin (27m) grew up thinking he was an orphan in some cult, i think he thought his parents were dead or didnt want him or something? anyways, when he was about 19 he met my dad (now 46m, at the time 38). he didn’t know my dad was his uncle at the time, but evidently my dad figured out who my cousin was pretty quick. my dad then made the decision to continue working with my cousin to fight, uh, some bad people, but did not tell the cousin about them being related. for about 6 years.

eventually my cousin’s parent (46???) resurfaces (they all thought he was dead lol) and a lot of shit happened (including that uh… whole city-being-a-warzone thing i mentioned) and it basically came out that my cousin’s parent was, well, my cousin’s parent. and then immediately after both his parent and my dad disappeared on an… extended business trip and went missing. three years later, my fiancee is dying of cancer, and decides to go on a trip to look for some experimental treatments to get rid of the cancer. after a few months of her gone, my dad and his sibling return, and two months after that, my fiancee returns (apparently she found them and got them brought back?)

a week before this, a friend of my fiancee’s (23f) went missing, and i started a search for her, but i realized there was a lot more going on than i bargained for, so after my fiancee went back, we made the decision to seek outside help. this help happened to come in the form of my dad, and his company. so basically i had to talk to my dad whether i was ready to or not, and since i definitely wasn’t, i made the decision to keep certain things from him. like the fact that he’s my dad.

so we’ve been working together for a while (we found the friend, he just also enlists my help as a pi for other cases sometimes) and i just… haven’t told him yet. here’s the fun part.

so my dad has a habit of picking on his twin for not knowing he had a kid for 25 years. my dad thinks this is hilarious, his twin and my cousin, less so. i happen to turn 25 in a few months, so i thought it’d be hilarious to wait until i’m at least 25 to drop this on him. my cousin doesn’t know, but he’d think it’s HILARIOUS, but my fiancee thinks i should tell him bc from what we’ve gathered it sounds like he’s had a good bit of tragedy surrounding his family, and my fiancee knows what thats like. one of my dads coworkers who pieced things together thinks its funny, but agrees that i should probably tell him sooner rather than later. wibta for waiting, if only for the sake of being able to turn his own joke on him and make fun of *him* for also not knowing he had a kid for 25 years, and definitely not because i’m irrationally mad at him for not knowing i exist for that long?

the reason he doesn’t know who i am already is because i make it a point to hide the distinctive features that are pretty inherent to his side of the family, not because i’m trying that hard to hide who i am from him, but because i have certain people who i don’t want to be able to identify me.

also, i realize i may have made it sound like my dad is a cop or a vigilante. he’s not a cop, i’d want nothing to do with him if he was, and vigilante isn’t exactly accurate either. mercenary might be a better term here.