#but i guess they're all more concerned about not dying or something

[greyias]

Looking at Steam, I realized that Ari has only earned 17 of her 100 gold goal for this campaign, and besides, it's been way too long since I had her bring joy and music to the NPCs stuck in a land of eternal darkness.

It's time for a Reunion Tour: Dislocated Shoulder edition

I guess as a surprise to no one but me, but most of the brainwashed cultists and wandering ghouls around Moonrise Towers could care less about Ari rocking Old Time Battles on her lute. I forgot to go serenade everyone down in the prison, but I've got a feeling that will be a bust as well.

Unfortunately there's not too many living beings in a forever cursed land of darkness (for some odd reason), so the only other place I could think of to do a little busking was Last Light Inn.

The cows are still big fans, and will still run across the map to come listen to some lilting musical notes. Also, apparently if you have "Speak with Animals" active, you can hear their comments. Which today seem to consist of "Hmm?"

Harper Hangfar is a gd cheapskate. PAY ME YOU JERK I'm playing my heart out here!

And Barcus Wroot will fucking Naruto run up some stairs shouting very politely that he'll stop shoving you out of the way just as soon as he finds the source of that beautiful noise.

So will the rest of the inn for that matter. Barcus's favorite song is also apparently "Nobles Have a Certain Spice" (oh, I bet they do, you saucy boy)

Jaheira and Harper Callie will also join Barcus in rushing up the stairs and crowding around for their free concert (that they did not tip me for, thank you VERY much), but they'll also shout out over the crowd to discuss battle tactics, before resuming cheering.

His Majesty also seems to generally approve of the music in the same way cows do. So. I guess there's that.

Also no one tried to decapitate Gale with a gold piece this time, because they're all cheapskates who probably don't pay for Spotify Premium too.

[jnece-maharlika]

Pt2Danny Accidentally becomes the Ghost king, the president and the biggest threat to Bruce's social status.

Pt 1 link:

Part 2 Danny becomes the president.

Amity Parkers are the most adaptable people in the world. They're barely fazed by anything.

If you throw them into a situation that they are very unfamiliar with, it'll only take them five minutes to adjust before they start planning on how to live with this situation.

The Amity Parker mindset is: "Oh, I guess this is happening now."

So when the ghosts start attacking? The Amity Parkers immediately look for ways to avoid and protect themselves from the ghosts, not even questioning why ghosts are real. The only thing they think about is, "Damn, there's a ghost. I hope it doesn't attack the theater; I really want to see that movie."

When Phantom had his debut as a hero? The Amity Parkers started looking for ways to help, ways to keep out of his way (some to try and keep him away). The thought running through their minds was, "So this one is trying to protect us? Guess we have a hero now."

Amity Parkers don't spend their time getting mad at the sudden change of routine, the sudden loss of normalcy, or the broken buildings. Amity Parkers don't ask why and how ghosts are real, don't question if all ghosts are evil or if there are some good ghosts, and don't even think of how to get rid of them completely (they're part of the community now). They only look for ways to keep themselves from getting overshadowed. They definitely don't spend time thinking if the ghosts could bring more danger in the future or looking for more information for possible contingency plans. They aren't Batman; they believe that if the present is good, then the future will be better.

Point is, Amity Parkers are resilient and adaptable. They will take everything in stride and focus on the present. So what if some ghosts attack and block the street? They need to get to work, so they'll just drive around it.

After the whole Pariah Dark thing, they become liminal, gaining some form of super strength and glowing eyes (symptoms vary based on how strong the radiation on a person is). A normal human would think, "OH MY GOD, I'M DYING!" The Amity Parkers went, "Oh, cool, this is cool, but now I'm having a problem with opening doors without breaking the knob. Maybe the Fentons could do something about it, make stronger knobs or something."

When some babies started gaining some inhuman features? Some start floating? (Sharper ears, fangs. Babies adapt to things faster, so they get more ecto radiation.) The Amity parents went, "Is there a way to keep my child on the ground without leashing them like a dog?" Then proceeded to make a help blog for other Amity parents dealing with the same things.

So when the ghosts start becoming more of the community rather than enemies, the Amity Parkers just shrugged and asked for a book of ghost customs so they don't accidentally offend them.

When the Fentons started making ghost and human-safe items, no one even questioned why Danny had so much money and was funding his parents' research.

When Danny's name was almost (if not) in everything and he seemed to own most of the town, no one questioned it.

But everything changed when the GIW came again. Even the Amity Parkers weren't expecting this change.

The GIW waltzed in, claiming the liminal town was theirs to play with and started attacking everyone, including the Amity Parkers. The Amity Parkers went full defense mode, protecting the ghosts that were now their friends/neighbors/lovers, making sure that nothing would harm them.

They learned that it was Vlad who called on the GIW. He was pissed and petty that the crown was taken from him and decided to report his liminal town, pretending to be a "concerned mayor" who "wants his people to be healed."

The Amity Parkers were mad... they were furious.

And in the moment they saw Phantom fall to the ground, unconscious, and watched him de-transform from the hero King Phantom to the kid that owns and funds the most helpful companies in town, something changed. Something in the Amity Parkers changed.

Keep in mind that Amity Parkers don't change; they remain the same as they adapt to whatever change the world throws at them.

NEVER ONCE HAD THE AMITY PARKERS DECIDED TO MAKE A CHANGE THEMSELVES.

The first thing they changed? Their mentality. NEVER AGAIN WERE THEY GOING TO LET OUTSIDE FACTORS CHANGE THEIR LIVES. THIS IS THEIR TOWN AND IT WILL STAY THAT WAY.

God help the GIW for being their first victims.

An angry town of liminals, ghosts, and borderline gods, who have access to the Fentons' very destructive and effective technology.

Vs.

The regular GIW humans with anti-ghost tech they stole from the Fentons and nothing against liminals.

The battle was a swift victory, destroying not only the GIW in town but also all of its branches (and Vlad) with almost no traces of them even existing in the first place.

The change didn't stop there, however.

The Amity Parkers banded together with Team Phantom and the Fentons (minus Danny, as he is healing and shouldn't know about their plans; the hero should rest) and took out some of that ghost king money that Danny's trying to get rid of. They crashed the UN meeting while kidnapping the president of America.

The Amity Parkers have decided that Amity Park is theirs; it belongs to the people and its heroes. But how is it supposed to be truly theirs if they have to follow the rules of the country that funded the GIW?

A couple of death threats, bribing, more death threats and more money bribing to make sure the anti ecto acts are gone and the League of Bitches (Phantom called the JL that, and the Amity Parkers decided it was true) doesn't know about it, and a couple of hours in the nightmare realm (courtesy of Fright Knight, who happily participated when he found out what happened), and Amity Park was now its own independent country.

They decided that Tucker was to be a main part of security, letting him put up another firewall like the GIW did to make sure no one knows about their country. They don't want the League of Bitches or any outsider in the King's Haunt. It's theirs now; it belongs to the Ghost King of Amity Park, outsiders be gone.

And when it came to deciding who would be leader? There was no hesitation as they wrote down:

Daniel "Danny Phantom" Fenton, King of the Infinite Realms, King and President of Amity Park.

___________________

A couple of years later, Batman, finding hints of a "Lazarus pit" in Illinois, send Flash to look around for anything suspicious. Flash, hyper focused on following his gps, hits a wall, literally faceplants into it.He double checks his map, the wall wasn't supposed to be there. He goes around it, there no way in, no way out. He goes back to batman and reports.

Pt3 soon.

Tags as requested

@nana-mizu-shiki

@talia-scar123

[justauthoring]

tears.

tears -> the blood of the soul; where the soul bleeds, you cry.

a/n -> okay can we PLEASE talk about that finaleeeee

pairing -> sanemi shinzagawa x f!reader

oddly, you're more afraid then you thought you'd be.

despite it all, you had believed you were prepared for it—the final battle. given that you'd been working towards this point since that fateful day you joined the demon slayers. years of training, of missions, of pouring blood and sweat and losing loved and cared ones that all lead to this battle.

and yet, you were afraid.

terrified, even, you think. if the shakiness of your hands are anything to go by, you'd venture to guess that yes, terrified sounded more accurate than just afraid. it feels like your heart hasn't stopped pounding against your chest since the hashira meeting nor that you've been able to properly catch your breath.

always short, always gasping—you're desperate for any sense of calm that won't come because the mind was cruel. and reality was even more so.

you'd faced death so many times now that you'd believed this one last, final time wouldn't matter as much. a necessary step that would decide fate once and for all. it was this last battle, you figured, that would decide who came out on top.

but maybe it isn't dying that scares you. yes, you think, it isn't that you're afraid of dying but that you're afraid of—

"i swear, none of those damn idiots will have the slightest clue on how to even begin training—"

it isn't abnormal for sanemi to come in complaining about something or another. what is odd is the tears he's faced with the second he walks in, lips left parted as he cuts himself off. the concern that floods his gaze is instant and all previous thoughts are gone from sanemi's mind as he rushes over to you.

"y/n?" his voice is soft in a way it only ever is with you and strangely, it makes your heart pound more frantically against your chest. "what's wrong?"

his hands are pressing against your cheeks, pulling your watery gaze steadily on his own. you feel your lip tremble and a shaky gasp pulls from your lips, beyond your control, the second your eyes focus in on his own.

you have half the mind to think that you should lie, that it's not fair to burden sanemi with your own childish fears. you do think it, but you lose your own battle the second you feel his thumb graze the skin of your cheek and take in the expression of worry and concern, blazingly present, in his eyes.

"i'm scared," you admit breathlessly. it's hard to admit, even to him, hard enough to even realize it subconsciously and the words feel wrong and like poison—yet, they're true all the same.

and your hands instinctively raise, pressing into him for any semblance of comfort you can steal from him. you haven't felt such terror since the day demons cruely ripped everything you hold dear from your hands—since you were coated in blood and forever petrified from the horrors of their corpses.

"i... i'm afraid of losing you."

it's a ghosted whisper—you don't want to say the words and put the pressure of that desperation on sanemi's shoulders. he has more than enough weight holding him down and you'd never want to add to it on purpose. but you're tongue is lose and your fear is blinding your rational thought and when he looks at you like that, you don't want to lie.

sanemi's hands are firm and never wavering, and as he cups your cheeks he forces you to refocus on him and solely him.

"y/n. y/n."

you stared at him with blurred vision, breath gasping and nails pinching into the clothe of his yukata; you grip him as if he'll disappear from your very touch that moment alone.

"y/n, look at me."

he's leaning, pressing his forehead against your own and swallowing your attention up so there's nothing but him to focus on.

"breathe," he guides, voice gentle but hoarse and rough. "you need to breathe."

you force yourself to listen. force yourself to inhale when he does, soothing yourself by following his movements until, slowly, the fog clears to allow you to see sanemi before you clearly. it still feels like you're short, still missing that last bit of air that would calm you, but it's better than it had been seconds prior and you savour the sanity of it completely.

"good," he praises, brushing your hair away from your face where it'd fallen.

you shake your head; "sanemi—"

"it's okay," he assures, the words just a little too rushed in a way that causes you to blink. it gives you the momentum to notice the slight, barely noticeable tremble of sanemi's hands against your cheeks or the echoing breaths he lets outs himself.

your eyes widen and you step towards him.

"i'm scared too," he admits.

it's admission that means more than anything else could've. in all your years of knowing sanemi, he's always chosen anger and passion over calm and truth. he'd never ever admit to anyone that he, the wind hashira, was scared of anything—he was all fire and strength, racing into battle with skill he'd bled over perfecting and came out the other side a winner.

he had the confidence to boost it. never wavering in his own ability.

so his admittance of fear is enough to pull you from your own racing thoughts and focus on the fear he lets slip—if anything, for your sake.

"but this is what we're trained for," he reminds, fingers brushing against your skin—soothing and a constant, pressing reminder of his presence. you're more than thankful for it. "and it's our duty as hashira to defeat muzan."

you nod, slow, unsure. "i know," you whisper, "i know. it's just..." and your grip tightens, knuckles white and hands still trembling, gripping his clothes in your palm and trying to be as close to him as possible. "i don't want to lose you."

"i don't want to lose you either," sanemi breathes.

you stare into his gray, swirling eyes, lips pressed tightly together.

"i can't promise you we'll make it through this, but know that i will fight like hell to get back to you."

you blink, the tears welling as his words mean more than sanemi could ever possibly know. despite it's brutal honesty, those words are exactly what you need to hear in that moment.

because there is no other option. sanemi is right when he says it's your duty and you have every intention of following through, even if it lead to your death — but the sincerity in his voice as he promises to do anything in his ability to see you on the other side...

it's all you need to hear.

"and i hope you'll do the same."

"of course," you nod, not wasting a second before assuring him of that fact. you press your forehead against his own, lips hovering before his, and sink into him as much as you possibly can. "of course i will. i promise."

he's nodding, the words loss on him as he relishes in your presence just as much as you have been his.

and then, when his lips press against your own, you savour it — not because it might be your last, but because it'll be your strength to make sure it isn't.

[shanastoryteller]

Happy pride!!

Fem MXY WWX pls!!!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41

They're back to riding, only a couple hours away from Jin Tower, and Wei Wuxian is happy to be off his feet, but he can't even focus on that.

He's too busy feeling desperately sad for Mo Xuanyu.

She lived as a pauper in a family that despised her, had a father that ignored her, was so lonely that she named her sword Friend, and killed herself rather than marry Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan would have been nice to her. It took him a while to warm up, but he's trying now, to do his duty as a proper husband. Which is inconvenient for Wei Wuxian, but probably would have meant the world to Mo Xuanyu.

She didn't have to die. If she'd been able to hold onto hope for just a few more days, instead of giving in to revenge and despair, then she could have lived out her life out from underneath the thumb of other people.

"Are you okay?"

He startles out of his thoughts, looking up to see Sizhui has pulled his mare up beside his and is peering at him in concern.

He forces a smile, because he's put Sizhui through enough today, and he's a good boy that doesn't deserve to be involved in any of this. The worst part about dying again is going to be leaving behind Sizhui. He's such a sweet boy who loves him so easily and he just knows that it's going to break his heart when either the cultivation or the curse mark has run its course. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Just thinking."

Sizhui looks unconvinced, but nods before looking up towards the front of the procession, where Lan Xichen and Lan Zhan are talking about something while Jin Guangyao pretends to be interested. He reaches into his sleeve. "I found some of these in town when I went looking for you."

He pulls out a small bag of the sweet, spicy pepper candy that Wei Wuxian likes so much and hold it out.

"You're the best!" he says, taking the bag and also pausing to squeeze his arm in thanks, only not pulling him into a hug because he's not sure how tolerant the horses will be about it.

The food in Cloud Recesses is ass and he can't cover everything with chilli oil because the only person he'd met who liked food as spicy as he did was - well, no one. So having Mo Xuanyu like spicy food had seemed like edging a little too close to obvious.

He'd been so happy when Sizhui had brought pepper candy back for him for the first time and had sworn him to secrecy to how how much he loved them.

Wei Wuxian pops one of the candies in his mouth, sucking on it to more quickly get to the firey pops of pepper, which is his favorite.

There's about five seconds of deliciousness and then his stomach rolls with nausea. He tightens his grip, trying to ride it out, but the taste of the candy he loved turns sour and he's seriously worried he's going to hurl, which Lan Zhan would never let him hear the end of.

He spits the candy out onto the ground, rubbing at his mouth.

"Lady Xuanyu?" Sizhui asks startled. "Is - sorry, did I get the wrong one?"

"No, no, it's perfect," he assures, internally sighing in relief as his stomach starts to settle. "I guess I shouldn't eat them on an empty stomach! It ruins the flavor. Who knew?"

He's eaten them on an empty stomach a dozen times before and never had an issue.

"Okay," Sizhui says slowly. 'Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm perfectly fine, Sizhui, don't worry," he says, and means it, even though he sort of wants to cry.

The pepper candies were one of the only things he could get his hands on that he enjoyed eating, and now even that's gone?

At least the Jin go all out on the banquets.

[deancaspinefest]

All in Honesty

Author: golbygloom | Artist: TwinOne

Posting on Tuesday March 19

It's been years of watching Dean and Cas dance around their feelings and at this point, Sam's losing hope that they'll ever take that step and talk things out already. One well-placed spell from Rowena makes Dean and Cas incapable of not talking, but even that doesn't get them together. Will Sam ever be able to help the morons he's forced to live with get together already, or is he destined for a life of perpetually being stuck between them as some sort of bizarre marriage counselor that neither seems aware the other also talks to?

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

"It's just so painful," he laments a few days later to Rowena, both more than a little drunk in the Bunker's library, Dean and Cas having already gone to bed (unfortunately in different rooms). "They're just…so obvious to everyone except each other. How don't they realize?"

"Noo, why should they? It's not like all of Heaven and Hell figured it out before them or anything."

"I just don't get it. I mean, Dean's eyes are always practically glued to Cas' eyes or lips or his butt and he still hasn't picked up on the fact that there might be something a little weird about that if they really were 'just friends'?" Sam's drink sloshes violently in his glass as he gestures around the room, agitated. "Cas only gets an excuse because he hasn't even been on Earth for a decade, but somebody as old as him should probably at least have an idea what all those feelings are, right?"

"Aye, the poor dears don't have a brain cell between them when it comes to matters of the heart, it seems," Rowena says sagely. "They can be more than a little daft when something doesn't involve killing or dying or crying…"

"They're so hopeless," Sam agrees miserably, burying his face in his hands to rub at his forehead and push his hair behind his ears. "I have to live with them so it's just constant. I-I don't know what to do anymore."

Rowena's quiet for a long moment before she hums to herself. "There might be some way to get their heads out from within their tushies…"

He looks up at that, though judging by the twinkle in the witch's eye, he's gonna regret listening. "What do you mean?" he asks warily anyway, blaming the alcohol for him even considering…whatever it is Rowena is going to suggest.

"Well, all it takes is a wee spell or two and those two will be singing like canaries."

"About their disgustingly sappy love for each other?" Sam guesses, but the witch just smirks.

"About everything. Anything that comes to mind." Sam stares at her blankly, but Rowena doesn't seem to notice. "Oh, I imagine it wouldn't be more than but a few days before certain thoughts come out and certain feelings are revealed…"

"Rowena…"

"Don't tell me you've changed your mind? It's not like there are all that many ways to get those two to sit down and talk about their feelings, Samuel."

Sam considers it, his drunken mind unable to see why this might be a bad idea beyond Dean getting pissed off. Then again, Dean gets pissed if he sees something green on his plate, so Sam's not all that concerned. "What's the cure?"

Rowena's smirk widens, nearly splitting her face in two. "True love's kiss."

(continue reading on Ao3 on Tuesday March 19)

[calliethetrekkie]

Star Trek TOS S01E19: Arena

Original Thoughts

"Well now I know which episode those screenshots of Kirk fighting lizard men that are clearly guys in uper cheap costumes come from. So Kirk is forced into a battle to the death more or less against a vicious alien species by another alien species of greater power. Man, they’ve had bad luck with the latter thus far. Despite the cheapness making it hard to take seriously, it was cool to see Kirk get to fight full-on against something since episode 3. Shatner kinda overacted a bit with the dialogue, but was fine otherwise in a more action-oriented episode that had Kirk completely on his own with no help available to him. Kirk’s proven to be quick-witted in the past, such as in the previous episode, but he had nothing but wits and a communicator here, and he was awesome! The Gorn are also dangerous but also display intelligence and cunning like how the one came pretty close to killing Kirk and devising a way to trap him. The Enterprise’s helplessness in this situation is also very strong with even Spock unable to do anything but wait it out. A cheap episode for sure, but a good episode regardless."

Rewatch Thoughts

Wow Callie, way to not even pay attention to the moral of the episode, you dummy!

When going back to rewatch this one, I only remembered two things about it: the Gorn and the scene where McCoy tries to hold Spock's hand while they're watching Kirk struggle. The former cause of that legendary costume, the latter cause... well, me taking in every Spones moment that I can. Otherwise? I remembered virtually nothing else. It sucks that I forgot about most of it, but it's also kind of nice cause I got to experience it again, and DEAR GOD this is so much better than I had remembered!

The first part of the episode is great, from Kirk and McCoy being all giggly and cute in the transport room to them finding the base they were going to utterly obliterate. Only one guy was still alive and it was an active blast zone as well that only our three mains, the dying guy, and one Blue shirt survived. We're left wondering WTF happened and Kirk... well, he doesn't take the incident well. He declares it an invasion and goes after the ship of those responsible, fully intending to return the favor.

It was a little scary TBH to see Kirk so... I guess the word that works best is vengeful. I don't think I've ever seen him this willing to kill an enemy before, even in Conscience of the King he kept his cool overall. I guess given the amount of life lost, even compared to say Balance of Terror, it makes sense. It's not OOC either, we've seen Kirk flare up whenever any of his men are killed/threatened (The Man Trap, Balance of Terror, The Corbomite Maneuver to some extent) so what looks like a calculated attack on this level? And when he's the only one in a position to give pursuit? Yeah, Kirk ain't gonna let that go. He's going to find whoever/whatever did this and stop it before such a thing happens again.

This presents a problem, however, that being how irrational Kirk is being. I don't mean that in a bad way either, it's interesting to see this side of Kirk. He's so determined to pursue this enemy, to take them down, that he doesn't care about any possible explanations about why the Gorn did what they did. Spock tries to express that very concern, but it falls on deaf ears and he pretty timidly falls back into place. Spock's very much been willing to question Kirk before, we saw it in Conscience of the King, but in that instance, he had time to go over everything before choosing to confront Kirk and also discuss it with McCoy, who noticeably stays in Sickbay until Jim gets whisked away. Given McCoy's the one who would most likely speak back and try to talk Jim out of it/appeal to him emotionally, keeping him in Sickbay with the traumatized, nearly dead officer and thus unable to be Kirk's soundboard to vent his emotions to had to have been on purpose. That's not to say that Spock is a mindless follower, he isn't by any means. But at least at this stage of ST, I don't think he has the nerve to argue or defy Kirk without being prepared for it or without McCoy or someone else in his corner to back him up. Plus logically, what can he argue against Kirk when he's not gonna listen? He can't. This is why in cases like Conscience of the King and later in Obsession, you need Spock and McCoy both standing up to Kirk: alone they probably couldn't do much, but together? Jim doesn't stand a chance haha.

Even the crew is pretty mortified by Kirk's recklessness and... for lack of a better word, murderousness. Uhura gives him some mega side-eye when he and Spock are talking, and everyone looks mortified when Kirk keeps making them go up to more and more dangerous Warp levels. They don't go against the orders, but it's very clear that they're unsettled. Kirk is very much presented as in the wrong and dangerously reckless for everyone. He doesn't even really give a damn when Uhura tells him that they're being scanned nor questions why the Gorn are coming to a dead stop when entering the mysterious galaxy, only caring that they have the chance to shoot them down. He is laser-focused on shooting down the enemy, and this bites him in the ass hard as the Metrons, unhappy to have this quarrel brought to their end of the universe, forces Kirk and the Gorn Captian to settle the matter... one-on-one.

Kirk is in a bad position, but it's kind of cool to see him under conditions like this. He has no weapons, no way to communicate with he Enterprise, he has nothing but his own wits. He's against a Gorn, who is much stronger and as Kirk finds out, very much intelligent. That's one thing I enjoy about the Gorn, they are brutish and violent, but the Gorn Captian at least isn't stupid. Kirk mistakes the alien translator that the Metrons outright told him that they were giving him to talk directly to the Gorn. In other words, because Kirk didn't pay close enough attention to the Metrons words, he gave away EVERYTHING that he was thinking and doing to the Gorn, who took all of that, and countered. He even set up his own trap and Kirk survived by the skin of his teeth. Ironically the guy in the cheap lizard costume was the one being smart and calculative, while Kirk... well sorry honey, but you're kind of an idiot during most of this. But it's okay, I know it's cause your two brain cells aren't with you.

Speaking of said brain cells, the Spock and McCoy moments during all of this are so good! I mentioned the hand-chasing bit, which is still fantastic and I'll never get over the fact that De Kelley decided that was perfectly IC to do. But even disregarding that, this is a really good one to watch if you wanna see a good example of their relationship when they aren't bickering. You can REALLY tell that McCoy wants to when he gets to the Bridge and presses Spock for answers, but he actually holds it in. Likely due to the time-pressing circumstances, but still. I mean he even turns the Captain chair so Spock can sit in it properly (my hilarious theory is Nimoy somehow missed it when filming so they had to have De holding it so Nimoy wouldn't hurt himself), how anyone can look at them here and think they hate each other I'll never know. I also love how it's when McCoy appeals to the Metrons to let them see Jim that the Metrons decide to show some compassion and comply. It's an early sign to them that humans aren't just savage killers, and it's Leonard 'The Heart' McCoyt hat starts it.

Spock also doesn't even attempt to hide his emotions here, his uncertainly over what to do and how he doesn't know where Jim is, his fear and worry when seeing Kirk near death, his relief when Kirk starts piecing together what to do with the resources around him, and let's not forget earlier where he decided that going after Kirk in an active blast zone was a perfectly logical thing to do. Seriously, this is also a great episode to point to whenever Spock claims he has no emotions cause... yeah sorry Spock, all you've proven is how Vulcans are giant ass liars.

Honestly, this is such a good episode showing how devoted the Enterprise crew is to Kirk. When Kirk instructs Sulu to abandon the landing party if necessary and to protect his ship, Sulu very clearly does NOT want to do it. He knows he has to comply, but if he has the chance to save Kirk and the others, I don't doubt at all that he would do it. Despite the visible shock regarding Kirk's orders and actions, all of the Bridge are horrified and worried when he disappears and when they see how badly he's doing. Poor Uhura looks like she's about to cry I swear. Kirk has his bad moments, but ultimately he's a respected Captain for a reason and Uhura, Scotty, and Sulu especially know that (and Chekov but he ain't around yet). No one wants anything to happen to him and if anyone on that ship could do something to save him, they would. They're so devoted to Kirk, even when they disagree with him, and I love it.

All that said, in the final stretch the Gorn finally speaks and we find out why they obliterated the Base and everyone on it: because Starfleet were the invaders. The space was the Gorn's and Starfleet suddenly setting up a base there scared them and they concludedconclusion that it was an enemy attack waiting to happen. While they certainly jumped the gun... I don't blame the Gorn too much, to be honest. You see these people that look virtually alien to them settling in without any explanation about where they're form or what they intend, what other conclusion is there to make? I don't believe Starfleet was attempting to do anything malicious, at least in this case, but the fact that they just assumed the space was free for the taking... yeah, not one of your better moves guys. Did that justify the Gorn's actions? It's hard to say since they certainly had an understandable reason, but it still caused massive casualties that I think could have been avoided had the two sides just... talked and mediated things. Still, as McCoy points out, Starfleet was the one in the wrong first, and Kirk just about nearly caused even more unnecessary bloodshed because he didn't at all consider why this happened to begin with.

Given that, it makes sense why the Metrons would see us humans as primitive savages (poor Spock getting lumped in there too haha), especially with Kirk's behavior up to that point. It makes his decision to NOT kill the Gorn Captain, despite having blasted him to near death and having the perfect opportunity, all the more impactful. Throughout the episode, it's all he'd wanted to do, to the point of endangering the Enterprise and everyone on it to get the chance. But having now heard the Gorn's reasonings and being able to look at his own actions, he realizes how wrong he was. The Gorn aren't mindless monsters, they were afraid and were trying to protect themselves from what they saw as invaders, and it was a matter that Starfleet provoked first. He even refuses the Metrons offer to kill the Gorn and instead wants to properly mediate things over. It convinces the Metrons that there's hope for humanity before returning Kirk back to the ship safe and sound.

Given recent times, the moral honestly this a lot harder. The Gorn were motivated by fear, Kirk was motivated by vengeance, and had it kept going I could easily see things escalating into full-blown war. Ultimately though, Kirk decides to be the better man and not continue it. He's seen the destruction that the Gornc caused and likely people he knew got killed, he fought the Gorn Captian face-to-face and both of them were fighting to the death, and acted irrationally all throughout the episode. But Kirk learned and chose the diplomatic route instead. I wish that it were that simple, to realize all sides feelings and decide that there's been enough hatred, fear, and vengeance by everyone. I wish that more leaders chose to communicate and mediate things out, which si certainly more difficult than it sounds but it's still a better option than war and death. TOS is outdated in so many ways, but is also still incredibly relevant in others and I think that this is very much one of those kinds of episodes. It certainly hit me a LOT harder this time around than it did the first time.

This episode is so freakin' good. A great plot with a very well-handled message, great character moments for both our main trio and the Bridge crew, and very well-executed tension. I knew full well how this whole thing ended and I was still worried about if Kirk would make it out, that's how well this episode does in immersing you in it. Even Shatner's over-acting, which tbh wasn't even as over the top as I made it sound in the first viewing, didn't phase me. Also that Gorn suit is perfection and it needs to stay the Gorn's default look, I don't make the rules! I thoroughly enjoyed this one... and hopefully, the memory of it helps me survive the next episode, The Alternative Factor, cause if it's like I remember... yeah I'm not gonna be feeling much joy after it. But that's for then, for now? Arena is great~!

Original Rating: 4/5 Rewarch Rating: 9/10

[My TOS Reviews]

[TOS S1 Reviews]

[nhothicket]

Ever create a band au even though you cant draw instruments?

more info below the cut :>

Meet Bdubs, 38, stage name BdoubleO - Boomer is often mistaken for his first name, but is just another nickname for the pile. Infamous online, if it weren't for the fact that he makes disgustingly good music he would probably have more hate followers than genuine fans. The line between charming asshole and just asshole is one he fails to tread lightly most days, but he's mostly harmless. Let's just say the Bdoubleo could also stand for boorish. A bit of a sellout, but he enjoys what he does and many appreciate his extremely.. candid attitude. Best likened to a cartoon villain dressed as a rockstar, with the ego to match. (It's usually his unrelenting pretentiousness that gets him into Twitter spats.)

Thank you @foxden-frontier for always helping out with my stupid aus ^v^

Annoying at worst, unfortunately very charismatic at best. You could say he's a softie at heart, but that implies its at all difficult to spot. Once he's done "clapping back at all the haters", in person he's still got a temper (he thinks he has a bad boy reputation to uphold) but is enthusiastically friendly.

Etho, 32, resident keytarist of creatively named band Canadian Bacon. Joined by his two best friends, Pause the frontman and bassist, and Beef their drummer. A deceptively popular band if judging by their permanent rough draft name and their nerdy-college-student dress code. Etho himself is just a guy who likes playing music with his buddies, their hobby having blown up under their noses. Now, as an unfortunately successful touring artist, Etho's anonymity is scarce, but he continues to wear his mask to discourage widespread photos of his face. In spirit. He's concerned about having his face plastered all over fan accounts, which still occurs, but a perk of having a completely rabid fanbase is that many will defend your boundaries to their last dying breath. Like his face, his legal name is out and about online, but its similarly discouraged. Best likened to just a guy.

If asked on the subject of his scar, the entire band has various different whimsical stories, brand new everytime. His lack of internet presence means Pause and Beef are free to make up whatever misinformation about him as they please completely unchecked (in jest of course), and they do take advantage of that. Many of these alternative facts are passed around on wikis and in fan circles.

To say Bdubs is jealous of Canadian Bacon's popularity is an understatement. They weren't even trying at all and yet they're the hot shit? But instead of putting that jealousy to hatred (which he had considered of course) he's instead set himself on proving himself. And if that means impressing Etho then so be it. Why does it mean impressing Etho? Good question, never ask it again. They say keep your enemies close, and Bdubs' enemies don't deserve personal space.

As it turns out, Etho wasn't too difficult to impress or maybe Bdubs was just that amazing. Either way, they end up hitting it off. Their friendship is an interesting one, mostly because Etho's fans basically hunt Bdubs for sport online. We're talking scribbled out of pictures, get behind me, #FreeEtho. Etho thinks he seems pretty cool though, if not a bit much sometimes, so no harm no foul.

Okay, rapid fire, some other notes for this au.

> Etho's legal name is Ethel. Because it is. My heart is so set on it. But if you're boring, Ethan or Ezekiel or something work too I guess.

> Etho's keytar mimics a more traditional guitar in most cases, though he's known to experiment a lot with how far he can push that.

> Etho's scar is from a mugging in this au, not a very fun story to tell. Beef practicing his brand new razor blade throwing hobby or fighting a bear to beat Pause in a bet is much more entertaining.

> Canadian Bacon is meant to have a manager, but I couldn't think of anyone I felt fit. Just a note.

> Bdubs has a habit of grabbing Etho by his tie and pulling him down to his level or otherwise using it as a leash. Etho doesn't usually wear the tie outside of show stuff or interviews, but he wears it around Bdubs because thinks its funny. When there's no tie that doesn't stop Bdubs, collars and hoodie strings are subject to the same usage.

> Etho isn't aware of how infamous Bdubs is when they meet as they meet at a festival with a big group of other musicians. Most of which already know Bdubs as his more excitable friendly self. He only finds out later when Bdubs complains about Etho's fans flaming him anytime he mentions him.

> Bdubs still has a self-imposed curfew, 10pm every night unless it conflicts with a show. He needs his beauty sleep.

> The trigger reason for the animosity toward Bdubs is due to being blamed by fans for the split of his last band that had a pretty hardcore cult following (OOG, I've not named their band yet), and that has since snowballed into what it is today, despite his actions being relatively harmless. To note, this was not an assumption at all promoted by either party, it was entirely a fanmade judgement.

> For those who can, picture s5 jungle Bdubs mixed with drunken OOG(E) ctm maps for his approximate personality. Still goofy but with a sharper tongue and a lot worse of a temper.

> Originally I considered Cleo as Bdubs' manager so he's not all alone in narrative sense, I still think it's not a bad idea I'd love to see her chew him out for acting like a moron. Ren or Scar would be also be options for manager.

> Bdubs needs a touring band, but I'm not well versed enough in the hermits to actually pick one out. Just a note.

Okay, that's most of it! There's some more pg-13 headcanons for this au, along the lines of fuck yeah rock'n roll lifestyle, but it's not really important I'm sure just that is enough to get the gist of it. Thank you for reading this overly long note. ^v~

[according2thelore]

LITERALLY that "dad I'm gay and stronger than you" post had me like ..! my friend and I have been screaming for A Week Straight about the concept of Actual Child Monarch boykingofhell!Sam manifesting his powers early on and just. he and Dean figuring this is probably just another one of those Things We Don't Tell Dad. like, Sam who always knows where the radar traps will be on the interstate, and Sam jedi-whammying the motel clerk into forgetting their overdue payments... John flipping his absolute shit when he finds out; Sam being like "you can't stop me" and John being like "... You're /twelve/, yes, I can" and Sam being like "uh. you're just a guy, dad. I have all of hell at my disposal. do your worst, I guess???" John figuring that if he can't exorcize the hell outta Sam, he can at least make sure Sam can't get out of hell; telling Dean that he really tried but that the demonic forces killed Sam before John could save him; smash cut to early-20s Dean in his first year of solo hunting encountering a crossroads case, where the vics freak out anytime they're alone with him because "can't [he] see that massive fucking hellhound trailing after [him]?!" and the crossroads demon who can't believe who they're looking at when he finally gets them cornered. crossroads demon who smokes out under exorcism, but not before telling Dean "your brother wants to see you"

...anon...holy shit anon...

you are so correct!!

i think that in this situation (growing up with (to his knowledge) a dead sam, and a dad that "let" him die) dean would be more than passively suicidal. he doesn't care about himself, he failed. sam is dead. dean gets reckless, but he just barely avoids dying more than once, just a hairsbreadth.

he drinks until he can't walk straight, gets in the car, and wakes up in the motel parking lot. he goes half-cocked into a werewolf hunt, and he's sure that there's a werewolf behind him about to take him out (and isn't going to stop it, not really), but when he finally gets his finger around the trigger and turns around, the werewolf's ten feet away looking blank and confused. he puts a nominal effort into stitching up a bullet hole, doesn't even bother digging the slug out, and passes out in a random motel. next morning, the bullet's on the nightstand, and the stitches are even and tight. it's not enough to be completely concerned--hell, dean's borderline black-out drunk at any given moment, can't remember the last time he was completely sober--but it's...weird.

animals suddenly hate his fucking guts. dean used to tease sammy about it, about the fact that animals seemed to love dean and hate sammy. they would cringe away from sam's touch, skitter out from under his feet. birds would land on the impala if dean was driving, deer would poke their heads out of the woods if he walked past. but now...dean can't remember the last time he even saw a dog.

they just...flee. even at witnesses' houses, dean sees food bowls and chew toys and hears nails clacking on wood upstairs, but they tuck tail and run as soon as he knocks on the door.

after that first case, that first crossroads case where they name the thing, a Hell Hound...dean thinks it's bullshit. he's heard of black dogs, but this is new. it's weird.

he names it hooch. he and sam had seen that movie at a drive-in one summer, and he figures he's kind of fighting crime, right? he jokingly orders an extra patty on his burger and leaves it out for his imaginary dog, and the next morning it's gone. on the next hunt, the vampire doesn't even come within fifteen feet of dean before something rips its leg off at the knee.

when he calls the demon, it keeps looking down at dean's feet warily, back and forth, like something is pacing between them, something low. the demon keeps giving vague non-answers, distracted, and dean slaps his thigh, calls, 'hooch. down, boy.' and the demon...stops.

then those words...your brother wants to see you your brother wants to see you yourbrotherwantstoseeyou YourBrotherWantsToSeeYou.

dean is apoplectic. he finds the colt, finds the gate, heads into hell without a second thought, muttering to hooch the whole way (you better fucking rip some demons up you lazy son of a bitch).

sam's eyes are yellow, all the way through. bright yellow. he's huge. grown. beautiful. it's everything dean never thought he'd get to see. he dreamed about sam being this old, about sam having hands that dwarf a machete handle, of shoulders that blot out the stars.

sam doesn't react at first, knows that dad sent dean on a solo hunt before it all went down, but doesn't know how much dean knew about it, about dad locking him down here. dean doesn't even question why he's on a throne, why demons flank him on either side, heads bowed, why no demons even tried to stop dean from getting here, why they flinched away from him like something would swoop out of the dark and steal them if they brushed his shoulders.

"sammy," dean says--begs, really--for the first time in years, sam's smile falters. his eyes are hazel again, and his bottom lip trembles, and dean begs, "come with me, come home. please."

maybe it works, and they leave, and dean pulls sam into a hug so vicious that they both cry. maybe sam works from afar, and they relearn each other. their first hunt is ripping john winchester's head from his shoulders and trading kisses in his blood.

or maybe it doesn't. maybe dean stays, because they won't be separated like this, not again. the world's got other hunters, and dean has sam, and the rest of it can go fuck itself.

and sam has the life he's always wanted: power. respect. love. dean. (those last two are the same, really). and a dog, that keeps stealing dean's shoes.

anyway anon...much to think about...i love this...and you, coincidentally, mwah.

you and your friend galaxy-brained this one i fear.

-lizzy

[sandbees]

Yuu But They're Twilight Sparkle

I don't know why I haven't written about this yet...Well, no time like the present!

So, in the prolouge, Yuu is in front of the mirror, stating their name and the Magic Mirror states that while they have magic, their magic/soul doesn’t fit any dorms at all.

STILL, their magic is very different from Twisted Wonderland, and that alone proves that they aren’t from this world.

I imagine Twilight! Yuu being something like fanon works, they look like a human, just with pony ears, a tail, wings, and a unicorn horn.

People mistake Yuu for a beast man sometimes, though they don’t mind. (It’s the perfect cover up)

Yuu is just starting at Crowley months after all the overblots and is like: …how bad is this school that seven overblots happen in the span of a year

Lilia and Yuu share tips on dying their hair. Look at Lilia and Twilight and TELL me that they don’t look similar.

Yuu endorses working together and friendship, while the culture of NRC doesn’t.

“Looks like we’ll have to teach friendship lessons! I guess the magic map transported me here to help them.”

I assume cutie marks on humans are like a tattoo somewhere on their body. Idk where there just is.

:000 beating Overblots with the power of friendship rainbows of death-

Honestly, even with the new magic system and other knowledge, Yuu would be able to ace anything and everything easily. I think they’d be excited to go to the library and just read all the books in there.

The library is like their second home when Ramshackle gets too much-

They’re super excited to just help around and make peace between people, and then adds a little bit of friendship to the mix.

Ace: So like, why are you so all about “the Magic of Friendship” or whatever?

Twilight! Yuu: It’s the source of the most powerful magic in my world. Besides, my friends are the most important people to me.

Deuce: That’s sweet. What do you guys do back in Equestria?

Twilight! Yuu: Eh, solve friendship problems among people, with the occasional supervillain like the embodiment of chaos.

Deuce: HUH?

TWILIGHT! YUU WOULD MANAGE TO GET GRIM TO SEND LETTERS VIA FLAMES. THEY CAN’T REPLICATE IT BECAUSE ONLY MONSTERS CAN USE IT (not saying their spike is a monster but,,,differences in world? Also canonically Spike is the only dragon that can do this)

Twilight! Yuu gets really obsessive with friendship that they end up forcing it down people’s throats.

It started off as concern because Yuu just watches fights happen over small things, and they get the full brunt of it too, especially when Grim causes trouble :/

We get a whole day of this and eventually Yuu learns to tone the teachings down after overblotting tbh

Personally, I think Twilight! Yuu would hate that most - if not everyone - around them acts selfishly.

I think Yuu would spend more time with the studious students like Riddle or Trey, just because they’re more of a serious kinds of gang.

:000 Yuu just casually lifting multiple things at once, much to the shock of everyone, especially with the accuracy they have. (I assume levitation magic is a bit difficult, much less with multiple things at once, as seen within the Prologue. Deuce might’ve been able to lift Ace up, but the accuracy was terrible)

I have more to say but I’ll save that for another post-

[c-rowlesdraws]

Which ME3 ending do you prefer and why? I like your kindness, and I wonder how that showed up in your ME3 ending choice.

thank u. Between Destroy and Control (Synthesis is a nonserious choice as far as I'm concerned), I like the Control ending better, because:

- it makes the whole quarian-geth peaceful reconciliation actually mean something for both people moving forwards into an uncertain future, instead of just being like "lol j/k all the geth are dead now anyway I guess" - Shepard dying in a grand self-sacrificing way at the end of the trilogy makes a lot of thematic sense and makes a great dramatic finish, instead of just being like "lol j/k they're alive it's fine yayyy Shepard!"

- now the Reapers imbued with Shep's will or consciousness or whatever supposedly happened can be called the Shepherds by future generations, and it's like a neat pun that now can have been foreshadowed since the beginning of the trilogy - after all of EDI's two-game journey and character development and affirmation of her personhood, she doesn't have to collapse and die like a puppet with her strings cut without getting to even have an opinion about it. I agree with some people's argument that she would choose to die for the cause anyway, but it still bothers me that that choice is taken from her in Destroy. and that's it! Way, way too much digital ink already has and continues to be spilled about how the Mass Effect endings did or did not disappoint and fail and what each of them "means" and which is "the best one" and it's actually kind of tiring when there are so many other aspects to the series that are more fun to discuss, so this is all I will or want to say about them. Thank you for asking me, though-- I appreciate it!

[mommyhelgayanderelover]

You're just afraid of horror movies

Pairing: Optimus Prime x human reader

You snorted, and then laughed softly.

"Do you really think I'm going to be scared?"

"Of course," the miko smiled wryly, "you'll be scared."

"I was on another planet in another dimension. I'm in the middle of an alien war. And you really think I'm going to be scared of… Horror movie sessions?"

"Uh-huh."

"Turn it on."

***

That was probably a mistake. That's what you thought after six hours of watching all sorts of horror movies, good and not so good. The phone showed it was about one o'clock in the morning, the main bay of the base was empty (Ratchet had said he wasn't going to work for the disgusting Earth cinema and gone to his bay), and the only people left on the couch were Miko and you. Rafe immediately refused, and Jack decided on the second movie that he'd rather sleep it off before the new shift in a cafe than waste time watching horror movies.

As the next movie came to an end, Miko yawned contentedly, stretching.

"Okay, your taken. You're not afraid of scary movies."

"Of course," you nodded slowly, listening to the rapid beating of your heart, "what's there to be afraid of? They're fairy tales."

"Right," the miko nodded, and then headed towards the Portal, "fairy tales are fairy tales, but I'm going home. See you later!"

The vortex flashed, Miko waved goodbye once more and was gone.

You cursed noisily.

The walls of the largest compartment on the base suddenly began to press down on her. No, you weren't afraid of monsters or ghosts… It was just that after six hours of scary music, carnage, and the screams of dying people, you wanted to cower in a corner and not come out of it until morning. But then, of course, you weren't afraid.

I guess.

Maybe.

Just a little!

"Calm down," you always, in moments of irrational fear, said out loud, "calm down. Monsters and demons don't exist. There are lights on all around, there's a bunch of multi-ton military vehicles at the base. All is well."

"Meow."

You jerked up off the couch with a loud yelp. From underneath that very couch, two red eyes were staring at you.

"Meow?..."

"Fuck you, Cat!" you clutched at your heart. The tension spilled out with a nervous laugh, "shit, okay."

"Meow!"

You were about to go into the compartment to see Optimus, but as soon as your gaze fell on the dark tunnel, you immediately reached for your phone. Oh no, you're definitely not going into the dark.

"Hello, Optimus? Come into the main compartment," you frantically looked around, afraid to bump your gaze into something that just wasn't supposed to be there. A moment later, Prime was already close to the human platform, noting with concern your high stress level.

"Is something wrong, my Spark?"

"Oh no," you nervously shrugged, "everything is fine. I called you to carry me to our compartment."

"You know I never lock it..."

"So?" you interrupted the mech, folding your arms across your chest. "Are you incapable of carrying me yourself?"

There was nothing to wing it at Prime.

"If you wish it, my Spark."

"I wish it," you stretched your arms forward, hinting for Prime to pick you up quickly. Your back felt like it was baking from someone else's baleful stare, but you didn't risk turning around.

The mech released the plugs that immediately wrapped around your body. Greedy as ever, almost intimate.

Optimus Prime headed for his compartment, somehow, parallel to his all-encompassing love for you, sensing someone else's presence.

"No!" you clawed into the shoulder segments of the mech as it sought to place you on a platform. A large, lonely platform that stood in the darkest corner of the compartment. The platform where you were supposed to be alone while Prime would be working behind the monitors at the other end of the quarta. "I want to sit with you today... Yes, sit and watch you work."

Optimus frowns, but finds no reason to object here either.

"You usually said you weren't interested... I'm still doing the same thing. Deciphering Iacon's coordinates," there was no logic to your actions.

"Now I'm getting curious. Do you have something to hide? Are you watching Cybertronian porn so you don't want me here?" The inappropriate humor chased the fear away.

"Nonsense. I don't watch, as you put it, Cybertronian porn. I'm far more attracted to contact with you."

"I'm sure you do," you settled yourself more comfortably, kneading your stiff back, "get to work, Optimus. I'll find something to keep me busy around here."

***

An hour later, you had a headache and your eyes were slipping shut.

You. Wanted to. To sleep.

But to sleep alone... You cast another glance into the dark corner and shuddered. There was a flicker of scarlet dots. Or was it your judgment failing you?

"My Spark, my sensors are registering that your body is demanding offline... You must not force yourself to stay awake."

"I realize that," you suppressed a yawn, "but I don't want to go to bed alone, and you're working, so... I'll wait for you."

"There's still seven more joors of work to do here," Optimus turns off the monitors and feels your trembling intensify, "what's wrong? You're scared."

"I'm not afraid!" when the only source of light in the compartment was the mech's eyepieces, you jumped up from his shoulder and clung to his helmet. "I mean… Ah, hell, okay! Me and Miko have been watching horror movies, and I'm… I'm scared! Okay? I'm scared to be alone in the dark now. Here. Those damn thrillers were killing me, but I couldn't lose the bet."

There was silence for a while. Prime headed towards the platform, taking you gently in his palm.

"Your fear is irrational, my Spark. I think you realize that yourself," the mech lowered himself onto the platform, giving a short command to the segments of the chasplay armor to expose Spark, "but you can sleep here, close to Spark's chamber. You'll have light, and you'll be protected."

You barely finished listening to the mech: as soon as he assumed a horizontal position, you immediately climbed into the chevplight, moving closer to the source of light. And I don't care if it was someone else's soul. Didn't care about anything but the realization that the fear was slowly drifting away. Really, you're a big girl now, and you were so scared because of stupid movies.

"Are you feeling better?" prime's voice was full of concern. You mumbled something unintelligible as you made yourself comfortable. Once again the segments shifted, closing off Spark and you from the outside world.

"Yes. Thank you," you murmured sleepily, feeling unprecedented warmth and comfort. The fear receded completely. "You're right, completely irrational fear..."

Stupid. How silly to be afraid of fake monsters from movies when you're literally sleeping in the actual monster. You so wish that fur beneath you and around you was once again just a hero of myths, not a real creature that causes pain.

... and only on the verge of dreaming did it occur to you that you hadn't taken the cat from the house to the base that afternoon.

[xoxothesubwayfugitive]

My decade spanning epic canon-supporting Lucissa fic is finished

I've been chipping away at Be Careful of the Curse for exactly 8 years and finally wrapped it up yesterday. I would love for you to check it out so I've included some high points and corresponding quotes as a teaser. I'm going to add the excerpts after the cut to avoid forcing the world's longest post on you

Lucius and Narcissa as an arranged match, but only after his intended bride Andromeda runs away

Severus as their houseguest while they're newlyweds and he's fresh out of school

Difficulty conceiving that almost breaks Narcissa

Lucius's internal monologue about the diary in Chamber of Secrets

Draco's reaction to his task and taking the dark mark

Lucius and Narcissa grieving their oldest friend

An attempt at reconciliation with Andromeda

Draco realizing he will never escape a cursed life

Their first meeting after Andromeda's elopement

"How are you taking this news?" he asked her. Narcissa looked up and into the front window where she could see that the adults' conversation had turned more serious. Her father was writing something on a piece of parchment, and Lucius's mother's brow was furrowed. Behind her, life in Muggle London continued beyond the dense shrubbery.

"I haven't taken it too much at all, if I'm being honest. It's just starting to sink in, and really I've been thinking more of Andy…not that there aren't things concerning us to think of, but it's all come as such a shock to me. Apparently I'm the only one."

"No offense taken. But you have to know that your sister wasn't happy. I could always see it, and to be honest I wondered how she and I could make a go at it together."

"Really?"

"Really. Know that she'll be happier wherever she's gone, Narcissa."

"That's very sweet of you to say," she said, absentmindedly wondering what it would be like to hold his hand.

"I'm a very sweet man, you'll find. No different from when we were young." She looked up, and he had that same lazy smile on. It had been a long time since they had been alone together, a whole year since he had left school and they had been able to have breakfast, and he was really looking so much more adult that she remembered.

"I guess I can only hope so." She was smiling too.

Severus and Narcissa's friendship

Beginnings of fear and desperation

On Sunday, Lucius left before Narcissa woke, and she and Severus spent their mornings puttering about individually. Severus took advantage of Lucius's absence to spread his parchment out all across his desk, and Narcissa retrieved an abandoned baby blanket, still on the needles, from deep in a dresser drawer.

The pair decided to walk to her parents' house, even though it was windy and gray. Narcissa always preferred to walk, and Severus, knowing this, wouldn't deny her. They didn't say much on their way, but maybe halfway there Narcissa began to notice him glancing over at her and turning away quickly several times over.

"Would you like to say something?" she asked, laughing at how he had reverted to his shy old self.

"Well, yes, but maybe I shouldn't."

"Oh, now you must."

They took maybe 20 more steps, his face growing more resolute with each one.

"Lucius told me that you're trying to have a baby, and I just wanted to tell you I hope it all works out, because I know how much you want it."

Narcissa felt heat flare on the back of her neck for a moment, and couldn't think of what to say.

"I'm sorry," Severus rushed to say, resolution visibly dying out. "I shouldn't have brought it up at all. It's personal. I apologize."

"No, it's all right," she decided. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

They kept walking, reaching the edges of her parents' neighborhood.

"You two really talk about things like that?" she asked. Narcissa knew they were friends, but she didn't know it ran so deep, and that was what struck her as odd about the conversation more than anything else.

"Not often," Severus replied. "But lately it seemed like something was wrong, so I asked, and he told me. And I've just been thinking about it, because I want you two to be happy. You deserve it. Your child would be lucky."

With that last sentence, there was a hard edge on his voice; clearly he was making a comparison.

Lucius was teaching Narcissa Occlumency, each day pressing her to lay Draco down and sit with him while he pried at her. Narcissa struggled with it. He wished there was someone else to teach her, but he felt increasingly strange about trusting another Death Eater with the secret that she was learning.

"But why," she cried out one day when he was once again successful at entering her mind, "are we doing this? Who will be reading my mind?"

"Cissy, it's just security. I know you understand that. We'll stop for today."

They were sitting in chairs across from one another, and he reached out to take her hand. It felt stiff.

"This is bothering me, Lucius," she said, and left him there.

Severus did come to the Manor for Christmas, but everything felt wrong. Narcissa didn't recognize the hardened man at the table with them. Severus had successfully grown as she and Lucius had encouraged, and then he had taken it into his own hands and gone even farther. He said little but not in the same way as before. Once shy, he was now terse, and somehow she felt younger than him.

"Lucius is teaching me Occlumency," she told Severus in a moment of rebellion towards them both over lunch on Boxing Day, "but I'm horrible at it."

Lucius shot her a look as Severus scoffed.

"No one is better suited to be an Occlumens than you, Narcissa," he replied. "And Lucius is not suited to teach you. Your only problem is that you have never had a secret from one another in your lives. We will practice together when we finish eating, and you'll see."

Severus was right. Although the force with which he attempted to read her was immense, it was easy, natural even, to keep him out.

"I thought we were close, Sev," she gasped out. "Why does it feel like you're a stranger when you do that?"

"That's normal, Narcissa. A good Occlumens trusts no one. That is why Lucius couldn't teach you. As cunning as he seems, he can be led."

Lucius released from Azkaban (the first time)

If he was released, Lucius would come straight there through the Floo. So all Narcissa did that day was wear out the carpet in the sitting room, and when she was done pacing, sit on the couch to rock frantically back and forth. For the first time since October, Draco was not with her or even close by; Druella had him upstairs and Narcissa had not heard so much as a hiccup between them.

She examined herself in the mirror above the fireplace. It was worse than when Lucius came home to find her pregnant; at least then there had been a reward, a happiness. Now she was looking old for the first time, she thought. At one time she had worried about ever losing the first weight she had ever gained, but now she would wish it back easily. To be plump with a new baby in your arms and your husband at your side was a thing entirely different from being a skeleton in a cardigan, hair stuck back with a quill.

There was no warning – he fell out of the fireplace before her, dirty, thin, tired, and was at her feet before she was able to stand up. Lucius buried his head in his wife's lap and cried as she clenched his shoulder to be sure it was real. Soon she slid off the sofa to kneel with him, and they embraced, undignified, at last toppling to lay down on the carpet. They bled into one another, adrift and yet moored for the first time in months.

"I am afraid to see Draco," he whispered when they were calm and simply breathing to match one another. "He will not recognize me. I am ashamed."

"Draco will know you," she replied. "He is an incredible child. He walks everywhere now. The pram has dust on it. Go shower, and I'll bring him to our room."

"A minute more," he breathed.

The diary

Lucius hated that book.

He had a trunk full of things locked away that Narcissa didn't know he had, and now Arthur Weasley, true to his name, was trying to weasel his way in their house with a warrant to find exactly what Lucius swore wasn't there. Mostly the things were trivial, or at least not so illegal that he could really be in any trouble over them. Potion ingredients that had been outlawed only recently, and some cursed family heirlooms that could go to no safer home than a locked case in the Manor. But that damn diary! The Dark Lord had never been a lover of things, and yet he told Lucius so clearly that that musty book needed to be kept safely with everything else that prying eyes should never see. And Lucius, for all his casual attitude in front of his wife, did not feel confident enough to dispose of something his master might one day come looking for. In a way, it was Lucius's most prized possession, and he didn't even know what it was, except to understand that he should not have it.

And worse than all that was the damned stinging on his left arm the entire time Draco was away at school. It didn't feel like it ever had before; it was more like his arm was asleep, except it stayed contained entirely to the margins of the Mark. He was frustrated and confused and by the time summer arrived and Draco was home, he was ungodly hot. The summer raged the way it had when Narcissa was pregnant, and finally by the end of it Lucius could no longer reason his way through anything that was troubling him, and instead swept all the artifacts into a box and thrust it into his son's arms, and led him down Knockturn Alley.

Draco's Mark

"I don't…" He was stuttering. "Mummy…"

Narcissa wanted to burn the Manor down with everyone inside. This brutal building that she had promised Lucius to never leave, that she had spent her childhood dreaming of as a home – it meant nothing to her now as she saw her son imprisoned in its walls. Their husband and father had failed them; her son, her shy, talented son, was crying to her because he was afraid of something from which they could not protect him.

"I know, Draco," she managed to say. "It's not a nice thing. But you'll be like your father. Isn't that a good thought? He will be so pleased when you see him again."

"I don't care about…that," he replied. She heard him bite off the word him. "I don't want to be in this position. I don't want to feel like you aren't safe because of me –"

"I am protecting you, Draco," Narcissa rushed to say. "Don't think of it like that. Of course I will always be the one to protect you. It’s just the Mark.”

Of course it wasn’t just the Mark. It was him as a replacement for a disgraced father. A human sacrifice. They went in to see the Dark Lord and that was unfolded to them both, and she felt her body weaken and her feet turn numb. She reached out for Draco’s hand and it wasn’t there. He was holding his arms tight in front of him and curling in as if his stomach hurt.

“None of that now, Draco,” he was chided. “Narcissa, why don’t you help him with his sleeve?”

There was blood in her mouth. She had bitten herself that fiercely. She tried, as she reached out again and made contact, to still Draco. To show him some comfort through her touch. She heard him choke, though, and then she couldn’t resist wrapping an arm around his shoulder as his bare skin was presented to their master.

Severus

"Yes, Cissy, I was with him, briefly. I was actually…" There he squeezed his eyes shut tight, and took a deep breath and held it. "I was with the Dark Lord, and he told me to fetch Severus. He didn't tell me why, but now I know…and it was me…"

Narcissa took his hand and squeezed, and leaned closer to him. "You know he was going to do what he had decided to do either way."

"I know. But I should have thought twice that he even asked it of me, when it would be so easy to just summon him. It did take me a while, limping around in the dark and with everything in disarray."

"Tell me what he said. Please."

"We just spoke as we always have. He told me I shouldn't be out in my condition, and I asked him if he thought I had a choice. I asked him about Draco and he told me that he knew McGonagall would still do her best to protect all of the students. He asked where you were –" At this, Narcissa had to press her face down into the bed beside him, "and I told him what I had asked you to do. He rolled his eyes and asked me if I really believed you would listen to me. And we clasped hands as we always did, and he went away."

They stayed like that, in the hazy, white silence, holding on to one another, for a long time as Narcissa cried. She thought of how close she had come to dying while giving birth to Draco, of Severus as a boy flinching away from her cousin in the Great Hall, the meals she had eaten with him alone in the townhouse. His brief, cryptic confession to her and her alone that he was not exactly who he seemed. The night at Spinner's End…

"I knew," Narcissa said into the mattress. "Not everything – not even close to everything. But he told me once that Dumbledore was right to trust in him and get him out of Azkaban. And it made me cold to him for a long time. I was mad at him because you weren't free. I was angry that he would come back to our home and keep deceiving you, and I only let it go because I needed him, I needed the help he gave me…look at everything he did, every person he saved while he was so unhappy…and I thought less of him…"

It took time for her to quiet again, with Lucius gently tracing his thumb back and forth across her forehead.

"But you knew," she finally asked. "When I saw you again in the forest, you knew he was dead."

"Yes. He couldn't leave it alone. He had to show me, and Bellatrix, and a few others. He called us and made us look at what could become of his servants. If he could do it to Severus, surely anyone…and it was sickening. I will never unsee it. I was going to tell you…" he paused and stared away from her with his brow knit, as if on the brink of something dangerous. "If something had happened to Draco, I was going to tell you that we had to give up. We were never going to get the life we were promised. I was wrong about it, all this time. We would have been his playthings forever." Now it was his turn to choke back tears. "And I dragged you into it, both of you. Draco will have that awful Mark forever. And I encouraged Severus, when he was so eager to find a family, and I had everything. He would have done anything I asked of him, and I let him…"

"Let's stop now," Narcissa soothed him, although her voice was still bloated too, and her nose was running, "you have to get well, and this day has already been so long. Let's see if I can find Draco, and then maybe we can eat again. Let's try to be calm for him."

Andromeda

"I heard that Lucius was hurt." This was not an expression of sympathy, beyond opening the door for Narcissa to share.

"He should have died. I thought Draco and I had just watched him die. It's aged him greatly."

"I feel like I'm 75."

"Me too."

Andromeda got up to heat more water, leaving Narcissa to stare at a man's cloak still hanging on a hook by the back door. For the Malfoys, the end of the War seemed like the end of everything, of their purpose and reputation. Andromeda was left to start over entirely with a baby, all alone.

"I want to give you money, Andy," Narcissa said when the teapot was refilled. There was no reason to try to temper the words or wait to ask; the two were not likely to start spending cozy afternoons together with regularity. There was no relationship to protect from awkwardness. "I know it's forward, and maybe you have savings, maybe there are things I don't know about. But I know you'll never get it from Mother and Father, and I know Remus and Nymphadora were working for love of a cause, not to make money. Let us do something."

"I have a pension from Ted, and there's a Victim's Fund for both of us. Harry wants to take care of Teddy."

"Harry will have his own family someday, and I hope you are going to live a long life. All I want is to give what should have been your inheritance. It's ridiculous of them to leave it all to me when I'm already – when Lucius and I are so lucky."

"I've been reading about his sentencing in the paper. Don't you think you're going to need it?"

"No. You were engaged to him once, Andy. You saw how it is."

"Merlin. Don't remind me of that. What are you going to do if I say no?"

Draco

They did get to the study eventually, and Lucius sat next to his son on the battered leather sofa there, conjuring a glass of water before anything else.

"Is she that sick, Draco? Do we need to do something tonight?"

Draco shook his head. He was hunched over his knees, one hand shielding his face from his father.

"I just didn't…I never wanted it to be like this. I know it's childish to say that, but life wasn't supposed to be…"

"It is not childish, Draco, to not want your wife to die."

He started to nod, but his sobs redoubled and he bent fully forward, clutching at himself. All Lucius could do, having never been the parent responsible for this sort of comforting, was place a hand on his back and wait.

[tornioduva]

Thoughts on Mistoborn (Era 1)

Ok, so, as promised, the nitpicks/preference post. I wanted to wait for the excitement to cool down, but if i wait more i'll just forget everything. so.

SPOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOILERS, BIG, HEAVY, MEATY!!!!

I'll just blurt out a list of things that i didn't like/left me concerned:

The Lord Ruler ""redemption" I thought this was going to be a more controversial take, but i've seen many other express the same feeling already, so cool. Basically, the way they talked away the evil Rashek did under his rule reeeeally left me with a disappointed. understandable, yes. all the things the characters say about him are contextually right and informative, but aside from the content, the emotions behind felt...wrong. The reader should be the one kind of above all saying "i kinda get what he was going for", not the ones that saw his massacres and cruelty. Plus the emphasis on "Ruin corrupted him, he had good intent in the beginning"; i don't hate it as a concept...but it should've have been worded differently i think. I will excuse only Sazed on this because he basically achieved Nirvana, but even from him i expected more...criticism let's say. Less gush about microorganism and more fuck you Rashek.

Disconnect of powers Now, this can all be explained away with "it is the way it is, because yes", and it wouldn't be incorrect. but still. Why either Rashek nor Vin Managed to realize, even on an insticual level, what the true nature of the mist/deepness was when they took the power? Vin is told to be able to briefly see in the past of the power, and has her senses and understanding greatly expanded; how come she doesn't realize they fit together in some way? I included Rashek because i remember he moved the planet to burn the mist, and i guess this means he viewed it as something to defeat, but i may be mistaken. Again, maybe she didn't have enough time, maybe Ruin obfuscated her understanding, maybe it's just the way it is. but, if sazed took his time to explain to me that there were organism to eat ash, he could've also told me why she didn't just know what the mist were. but it's also not that important i guess, admittedly, i don't know if it wouldn't have changed the story all that much.

There's an afterlife??? That. I rode the rolelcoaster of emotions that was the final chapters of HoA and it was amazing and heart breaking, everyhting fitting together, climax climaxing, tears tearing, me dying. The sacrifice of Vin and Elend was so moving and spectacular, i wouldn't have asked for a better one. but. Then came Sazed, giving their friend a beutiful goodbye in the form of their bodies left in the flowers...and then you follow that saying "but don't worry, they be chilling were they are now, lol". why. why Ruin (lol) such a beautiful send off by demistifying their death. or at least without elaborating on it more. without that note, their death would've have left a bittersweet taste in my mouth, happy that they both died doing what they thought was right, giving their people hope, and loving each other, but without knowing what that would mean for them, if they were just gone, reunited or else. The question of an afterlife was also like one of the big questions of this book, part of the selfdiscovery journey of Sazed. To just having it resolved in a footnote like that, right after i was starting to grieve for my main characters, was terrible. "guess i was dumb for feeling sorrow for them, they're fine anyway". Plus, to me it would've been faaaar more interesting if Sazed, even in a god form, still couldn't respond to the question of what happens, to confirm that even a god does not know what lies for him in death. that'd be chilling. instead i guess there's paradise? bah. I mean, happy for them, poor things, at least they can dance for all eternity now. I'm sure someone will RAFO me in regard to the afterlife, but doesn't change my feeling about it.

Kelsier ... Everything regarding Kelsier's actual actions post death, in regard to the voices and influece, to Sanderson saying he was briefly a god before Vin...that is all just kind of silly to me. at least presented as it is. It's too little too litle to be of any interesting significance, but at the same time his actions are relevant to the story. I'd say, either have him play a quiet, interepretative but bigger part in the story, or as is, just don't have kelsier doing wierd shit that technically shouldnn't have the powers to do. hell, Vin struggled to talk to Elend the one she had a special bond with, while in FULL GOD MODE. Idk, it feels just kind of there.

Pewter Reaaaally small nitpick. It's magic, i know, but given that pewter doesn't heal by itself, but just accellerates and intensifies the natarual one of the body (at least for how i understood it), i really think mistborns and thugs should have waaay more scars and residuals bruises than they are described with, Vin in particular. i personally choose to see her as a very scarred indivdual given everything she survived.

...Why metals? This is a strange question, like asking why a mage uses a wand to cas magic. because that's how it works. i know. still. Given how in depth of the rules of how this world functions are, and how much Sanderson clearly wants to explain them to us, to the point of, again, having sazed telling us that rashek made specific micro organisms to eat ash. like, for real. why do the powers of the gods of this world need metals to express themselves. I guess this is the most likely of all my qestions to receive hordes of RAFOs, because i'm sure he will explain it at some point, maybe by talking about the power behind Ruind and Preservation. But still, in a world where everything makes kind of sense, having to eat metal to access magic still feels kind of there as "it's that way because it's cool". It's weird too, because i wouldn't quetion it if it was just, magic powers manifesting into people. but by being this specific, having to use a finite reosource to access an infinite (apparently) reserve of power, an ability that was decided and designed by the gods that created this people...idk, feels weird somehow. i fully expected Sazed to at least question it. but i guees i'll find out later. or maybe not, and honestly i'm okay with that. it's ok to not expalin everything, it just feels weird juxtaposed to everything else being explained.

Aaaand these were my main nitpick about this saga. not too many all things considered. enough to nag at me in my mind, but not to hinder at my overwhelmingly positive enjoyment of the experience.

[sarnai4]

M'aider

Exaggerated headcanons for how the Berkians and Berserkers would ask for help. (Key note being that they're asking for them specifically to be helped. If they were asking for someone else, I would change these)

Fishlegs: Politely. He doesn't want to bother you, but after trying out everything he can think of, he asks if you could please lend a hand.

Gobber: Through others. He doesn't know how to do something and when someone nearly loses every limb because of that, it's probably time to step in and give the blacksmith some advice.

Astrid: Angrily. She has been spending all day doing something. She doesn't want you to get involved, but her plan obviously isn't working, so she'd rather you just help out vs continuing to give her that look.

Stoick: Subtly. He's actually unconscious and has been for a few days. Now would be a good time to help.

Snotlout: Indirectly. Well, if you really want to help, then he guesses that it wouldn't be terrible. Sure, he's been going at this for however long and has enough cuts and scrapes to show for it...and he could probably handle it if you give him about 5 more minutes, but since you're so worried, he'd feel bad stressing you out. There is totally no other reason he's accepting help. Ignore the limp. It doesn't exist. He's just doing that to make you feel useful.

Tuffnut: Through actions. He probably doesn't actually need your help because this is definitely a scheme or a project that has little importance, so you've declined helping a lot. This doesn't stop him. Therefore, he keeps putting himself in increasingly more danger until you realize it's between getting involved or him dying. He's very happy when your concern finally takes over. Now, you two can look for Chicken together.

Ruffnut: Forcefully. She never asked, she just grabbed your arm and you found yourself in the middle of nowhere on a quest. You're still not really sure why you're there or what this quest is. You just know that you're not allowed to leave because she keeps tackling you when you try. It seems like you might need help before this is over.

Hiccup: Dramatically. He almost dies. Then, he does that again. Then...you get the point. So, you hide Toothless's tailfin, his leg, and sit them both down to have a long talk before you're down a dragon and Berkian. Depending on the situation, you might have to sit down on him to keep him from trying to get both items and run off again. Just be wary of that.

Heather: Dramatically but a little less than Hiccup. She doesn't almost die. She just gets captured. You asked if she needed help first, but she kept insisting that she didn't. After watching the third wave of enemies capture her and/or Windshear, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Dagur: Implicitly. He's currently bleeding out somewhere and would appreciate your help, but he's not really in the best position to ask. Of course, if he could talk, he'd say he was fine and could handle whatever danger there is so that you're safe. What's a concerning amount of little blood loss going to do? Hope he isn't too heavy because you've got some dragging ahead of you.

[murdrdocs]

PLEASE I NEED MORE QUINN CONTENT

where would i be without nsfw prompt generator 🫶

"quinn, do you have an extra charger?" you speak around the foam from your toothbrush and the object in your mouth. your head peeks out from the bathroom, your hands holding into the molding around the doorway to look at quinn where she sits on her bed.

she has your laptop open in front of her, assumingely finding something for the two of you to stream for the night. but she's far too engrossed in the task to the point where it's concerning. you squint, jutting your head out a little further to see exactly what she was doing.

when you recognize the format of the article you were reading just a few minutes earlier when quinn was in the shower, you choke around your toothbrush. by the time you have your toothbrush out of your mouth, tooth paste sliding down the porcelain sink and into the drain, quinn is coming into the bathroom, blocking the doorway by leaning on it, her head tilted and dyed red locks spilling from her bun.

"'the best ways to please your partner in bed'." she quotes the article with a teasing smile, her arms coming to cross over her chest. "are you thinking about having sex with me?"

your immediate reaction is to deny, but the cat's out of the bag at this point so there's no point in pretending. not anymore.

you shrug, busy yourself with rinsing your mouth out, and respond once you've wiped your mouth dry. "yeah. but when am i not?"

quinn's smile broadens and she approaches you, wrapping her arms around your waist and looking at the two of you in the mirror. "could've just came to me, you know. you didn't have to go to an article filled with testimonies from 40 year olds in a failing marriage." her little jokes makes you smile, easing your nerves, but they come back when she starts to kiss at your neck. they're just small pecks, nothing you're not used to, but the warmth you can feel from her body, and the hormones that you've been suppressing the entire day, makes the situation worse.

"i...i know." is all you can say.

quinn lifts her head, resting her chin on your shoulder, and she pouts as she catches your eye in the mirror. "then why didn't you?"

you turn around to face her completely, your hands reaching for her shoulders as hers easily find your waist. "i don't know. guess i was just nervous since you're so experienced."

quinn coos, her bottom lip jutting out. "aww." you smack her arm, making her pout turn back into a smile. "look, i know a more ... hands-on approach works best for people." her fingers toy with the neckline of your frayed shirt, her green eyes not leaving you. "what do you say?"

"yeah."

quinn has you on her bed, your laptop closed and exiled from the mattress. you tell her that you want to learn how to please her, so she has her panties pulled down, her shirt abandoned and leaving her in the little bra she wore. she's instructing you, eyes switching from closed in bliss, looking at you, and watching your hand work between her legs. "and curl your fingers just a bit."

"like that?"

she sighs, her head tilting back for a second. "yeah, like that."

you were only focused on her, but before you know it, quinn has pushed your own underwear to the side and she has two fingers in you. even with her guidance, she's still better than you, her deft fingers somehow knowing exactly what to do. the feeling of her hand on your cunt has your eyes fluttering shut, your own hand halting its movements between quinns legs.

she gently cups your cheek, thumb rubbing along the skin. "keep up, baby."

[rvby]

they're pretty common, you know

“and if you see the kid, tell him to get his ass back over here. the boss is looking for him.” 

`“the kid.” just one of the several things miller calls fox. “the kid.” he isn’t that much older than him, right? he’d guess somewhere around a decade, plus or minus a few years. not that either man is too keen on telling him their age. (fox claims he can’t remember anyway—snake’s inclined to believe him). but sometimes, (certain times?) he’s “the kid.” and he knows he’s not hearing it wrong either. he’s heard others talk about it. wondering what kind of relationship miller and fox might’ve had in the past to warrant the nickname. not enough for miller to ever slip his real name, but enough to call him kid. and isn’t that just odd.` 

`he’s left to wonder what he’ll find behind the brush. probably blood. hopefully a conscious body. hey, does anyone else equate “the kid” with fox’s usual mess in the forest? no? just him? maybe that says something about him more than it says something about fox. but it tells him where to look.` 

`same spot too, every time. somewhere he prefers. settled into enough that no one else would dare intrude. they know to keep away.` fox? 

`there’s no response, but he knows he’s there. hears him shuffling against the sound of birds and leaves in the wind. he pushes his way past the gap in the brush, into the clearing of dirt and grass and god only knows what else. the frequent rain is a mercy, they have to know.` 

`of course, sharp as ever, they’d known snake was coming. for all his attempted stealth, he can’t keep from how his movements clash with the audio of the nature around them. at least, not enough to keep them from noticing. it’s a choice not to do anything about it. not to speak up, not to stop.` 

`the smell of blood isn’t reassuring at first. strong. (concerning). but it’s not him today. at least, as far as he can tell. blood on his hands and blood on his weapon and there’s something about this that looks like a kid playing with a toy, hands sunk deep in the fresh corpse of a deer. maybe it’s the way he looks up, eyes wide and hollow, from where he sits so comfortably. as if all of this were normal in whatever world he lived in, so far away from the rest of humanity.` 

`it’s an awkward silence that greets them both. snake, with no clue what to say at the unexpected sight, and fox, who’s otherwise less than inclined to speak at the moment. though again, like a child caught doing something he knows he shouldn’t, he pulls his hands out from the deer slowly, bloodied knife cutting at the organs on its way out, and drops them to his sides.` 

what, uh. `what do you even say to something like this?` what’re you up to? 

`it takes more than a moment for his mind to remember words. he’s always so inclined to action, to moving, to doing. it’s strange, to have to speak as if he had something to say.` the deer. `it’s croaked out. foreign, the sounds that leave his lips. he doesn’t like how his throat vibrates with each word.` i killed it. 

`he catches what seems to be a frown on fox’s face. a rarity in expression—he’s inclined still to find it a touch ingenuine, in a way he can’t describe.` …why? 

`and suddenly, it feels like there’s a thousand words flooding the dam of his chest. rising up, up, until it threatens to spill. but still, there’s nothing. he only heaves a sigh.` it was dying. `he resumes what he had been doing before, taking his knife and cutting at the viscera inside the beast. away, away, away from it. he feels the diaphragm snap off with each swipe. still warm, still fresh. carefully intact.` 

`hardly an explanation, but can he really expect much else? he’s considering how he’s meant to continue the conversation enough to get to what he came here to do, but all thoughts are lost on him with each squelch pulled from the innards.` 

`as much as snake wasn’t expecting anything to follow the short reasoning, he’s given an addendum nonetheless. in one of the piles of meat and organs, he picks out a bloody piece of muscle, skin and fur still attached. stripping away the skin, he holds it up in front of him and looks at snake through the hole that’s evidently present.` it was shot on patrol. `a murder of mercy. better to put the damn thing out of its misery than to pray with hands known only to destroy that it might survive. it pained him to see it hobbling, suffering. he didn’t know why. what else is there to do but to kill it, then, before he can be confronted with the question itself.` 

`right. that much makes sense. finish putting the thing out of its misery. (hardly a pleasant thought). make use of the rest. he shakes his head.` you gonna eat it? 

`he scoffs.` it’s not for me. 

it’s not? 

`there’s silence as he finishes disemboweling the carcass. it’s a careful effort, marked by practice. snake has to wonder when he learned it, the act of hunting for survival. something tells him he should pay more attention to it, that he could learn a thing or two just watching, but instead, he just finds an interest in watching fox’s focus. piercing and calculated. that’s something that’s rare to see—anything but dull boredom painted in shades of gray and the hunt for a thrill that’s never quite enough. it’s mesmerizing to catch.` 

`all the while, there’s a loss for words in itself. no, not a loss. a lapse in memory followed closely by trying to find exactly what he’s doing. where he’s doing it. voices and looks and names too similar. his tongue is caught before he makes a mistake—he can’t make a mistake, he doesn’t. waves of time that pass by in swirls. his motions get more rigid, more violent, grasping at the windpipe with sticky slick fingers. (no mistakes, never a mistake. not him. not him). frustration at needing to say words and not being able to and not knowing what he’s saying at all. where did we lose the plot? come on, focus.` 

big boss. `the time taken reads as a focused rush. pulling the contained organs out all in one go. can’t let it split, can’t let it spill. after all, tainted meat doesn’t make for a good meal.` he likes deer. `deer.` venison. `he articulates it, like a student learning a new language at a school.` 

`can’t blame him. snake likes it too, gamey meat.` you don’t? 

`likes, dislikes. it’s too subjective for him to want to think about.` i eat it. `fact enough. he’s never been a picky eater.` 

`but fact never registers very well in matters of subjectivity. snake merely presumes he isn’t a fan, then. and yet, still,` for survival, right? `not like he hasn’t had to sit through miller explaining how to field dress a deer before. comes with their line of work, or something like that.` 

yeah. `he makes a bit of a face. in spite of his belief against the concept of likes and wants, he’s still victim to them. and even without admission by words, he ends up expressing a dislike for the missions which require the act at all. it’s a hassle, more than it’s worth.`  

`it’s a childish sort of look, one that reads, for once, with a level of genuine innocence that snake’d be hard pressed to call common.` it’s not that bad if you cook it right. `an attempt at making fox feel better about the whole ordeal.`  

`an attempt to which he can only respond with a mumbling,` that’s what he said too. `he doesn’t believe it, and not for lack of trying.` 

big boss? 

yeah.  

`he has to admit, it’s a little weird to think about them having the same tastes. downsides of putting the man on a pedestal, forgetting how human he is at the end of the day.` 

i don’t know why. `he interrupts himself, starting to get up to carry the now fully disemboweled deer.` i don’t know why he likes it. `‘it’ being ‘food,’ specifically by big boss’s definition. it isn’t a very precise definition, when he’s seen the man eat things he’s certain should be inedible by appearance alone. (it isn’t a matter of tastes—it’s a matter of survivability).` 

`oh.` need some help?  

`to call it a glare is an understatement. if looks could kill, he’s damn well trying to.` i can handle it.  

`while the look tells him no… well…` oh yeah, master said big boss is looking for you. `he’s reminded, while on the subject, of the reason he went over here at all.` 

`the statement sends his mind abuzz. a very quick shift in priorities, as he drops the carcass from where he had been trying to get it situated on his back. every sense honed to his new goal, it’s as though all the work he had been doing up until now vanished from his proximity. it’s only with the prodding that pulses in the back of his mind that he even offers a parting word.` take it. `and then he’s gone. like a sudden whirlwind breaking across the plain, he’s left behind nothing but death in his wake, and snake to pick up the pieces.` 

`there’s something about the snap of his head, the sharpness of his movements. loyalty and dedication don’t breed that. snake can only wonder what it is that’s between the two which triggers such a response from him. (he’d call it scary—used to, even—were he not so sure it wasn’t a threat to himself). still, he’ll diligently pick up the hollowed-out animal, intent to carry it back for fox’s sake. not willing enough to clean up after him, but willing enough to deliver the gift he had so carefully prepared. (and damn, is it heavy. fox owes him, after this).`