#but i’m not changing the colors of the gifs just so i can swap them so let’s deal with it okay?

[ladyhawke]

10 YEARS OF BLACK SAILS (2014–2017) – Created by Jonathan E. Steinberg & Robert Levine

[simp2537]

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔉𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔄𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔢

A/n : We finally start the series 😁. We get to see class 1-A. And Alice!reader being a daddies girl.

Word Count : 1,595

Trigger Warnings: Gore, Blood, Horror, Cursing, Child Abuse, Human experiments, Child abandonment, Angst, Depression, Anxiety, PTSD, Insomnia, etc

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕹𝖎𝖓𝖊

The screens of the teachers observation room played with different future students battling against the testing bots. Next to Aizawa, Y/n sat on the ground slumping on her noddles as she watched her future classmates.

“Who’s that one?” Y/n mumble her mouth full of noodles. Aizawa tired eyes moved to the screen she pointed her perfectly manicured finger. 

“Izuku Midoryia.”He mumbled as he sipped in the latte his daughter brought. She hummed softly as she watched the green haired boy battle around the bots. She’d seen him somewhere she just wasn’t sure where. 

Maybe in passing when she was out of maybe… wait he was the boy with the sludge monster. Her gaze moved to another screen where a raging blonde was, destroying everything in his path. He was the sludge boy too. 

Y/n had watched the fight at home when she was studying with Hizashi. The blondes explosiveness made her giggle softly. He jumped around blasting every bit that moved. 

“Remind me again N/n why don’t you go spend time with Todoroki?” Hizashi asked as he sipped the peach tea Y/n brought him from her favorite shop. 

“Cause I wanna see the kids who’ll be in my class. Other me and Shoto.” Her uncle nodded his head as he pet her hair. Her eyes trailed on all screens with a smile. All these kids were talented, some more than others. None of them were in her level other than maybe a few.

“Scoping out the completion early huh?” She gently shock her head as she sipped on her matcha. 

“Not really, I’m just curious.” Her eyes trailed back into the screen as she happily ate her food. All the teacher around her sipped on the drinks that Y/n brought them as they watched the students taking notes. 

Aizawa studied his daughter for a moment. Her eyes trailed over some of the examines. It was obvious to him that she saw potential in them. She was always able to determine one’s abilities to say. 

Perhaps it was a a side effect of her childhood before him. A childhood he had limited knowledge over. To this day Y/n don’t hold many close to her heart. She was emotionally unstable sometimes, swapping between joy and rage often.

If not rage than she merely had this dazed out look on her face. Like she was in a different world, maybe this world was the different one for her. She seemed so out of place when she was here. New things still excited her.

Her newest obsession was getting her nails done. He didn’t mind that though, he liked the way she would bounce over to him showing off the gems and girly colors on her nails. 

As he studied her, he knew she was studying her future classmates. She would analyze them till there was nothing left. She did it to Todoroki, and he was always changing. 

He sighed softly as he looked back at the green haired boy.

………………………..

Y/n stared down the large door to her new class. Class 1-A, what kind of students needed this big a door. She pushed the door open as she pulled her skirt down slightly. 

It was kinda cute, if only it was in a different color. All the other students turned to her, immediately stopping their argument. 

“If you’re just here to make friends then you can pack up your stuff right now.” Aizawa’s voice came from behind her. The green haired boy gasped as the pretty brunette and blue haired boy turned to fully look at them. 

On the ground in his yellow sleeping bag her dad laid on the floor. She giggled softly as she moved through the trio. She listened as he scolded the trio. Quickly finding an empty sit behind the blonde boy she watched turn the exam. 

“You were late Y/n.” Aizawa uttered. The rest of the class turned to the girl who was popping a candy in her mouth. 

“My feet were in the class before yours, if anything you’re late.” She muttered. The class whipped their heads around between their teacher and their peer.

Aizawa sighed softly as he reached into his yellow sleeping bag. 

“Right let’s get to it. Put these in and head outside.” Aizawa pulled their gym uniforms out. One after the other her classmates grabbed their uniforms Y/n lingered behind. 

She took her uniform from her dad a smile on her face. She liked the way her classmates looked. She recognized a few of them. 

“Go Y/n, make some new friends.” She gave her dad a tiny smile as she skipped away towards the locker room.

………………………..

“What? A quirk assessment test?”

Y/n sat on the ground next to Shoto while drawing in the dirt. She lazily drew small pictures with her nail, not worried about the dirt.

“But orientation! We’re gonna miss it!” The pretty brunette said. Y/n rested her head on her other hand. 

I think her name is Uraraka. 

“If you really wanna make the big leagues, you can’t waste time on pointless ceremonies.” Aizawa spoke. Y/n nodded her head softly. She’d been watching the first year ceremony since she was eight, it was a huge bore.

The students around her gasped, Y/n yawned. As Aizawa continued his lecture Y/n grab onto her h/t hair, playing with a lock of it. 

I wonder what Hatter is doing? Is he having a tea party? I want tea, and cakes. Oh and those muffins that March Hare would make. They always had this pink frosting that tasted like berries on it.

“Bakugo, you managed to get the most points in the entrance exam. What was your farthest throw with a softball when you were in junior high?“ Aizawa asked cutting of her thoughts. 

She huffed softly as the angry explosion boy from the exam answered. She stared at him, a small smile. He looked like a Pomeranian.

“Sixty-seven meters, I think.” He answered. Y/n kept her gaze on him, she liked his voice. It wasn’t tired and scratchy like her dad’s. Or cold and smooth like Shoto’s. It was deep and kinda rough.

She watched him as Aizawa made him stand in the throwing circle. She watched him roll his shoulders slightly. 

“DIE!” The ball when shooting into the sky with Bakugo’s explosive power. Her eyes widened and she cast her gaze up at her popsicle friend. He gave her a slight nod and she returned her gaze to the blonde. 

The Queen of Hearts would like him.

“All of you need to know your maximum capabilities. It’s the most rational way of figuring out your potential as a pro hero.” Aizawa clicked his device showing off how far Bakugo’s ball had gone. 705.2 meters.

Everyone stared in awe and the Pikachu boy spoke up. “705 meters, are you kidding me?”  As her classmates all began to get excited Y/n popped a Carmel in her mouth.

She’d never really taken these kinds of test before. Aizawa had his daughter retain strength and endurance of course. Morning runs and Sunday nights lifts were a part of there routine.

Eight physical tests, last place meant expulsion. It didn’t worry Y/n. Her dad would never expel her even if she would get last place. 

Being everyone else must suck

…………..

A four tests were already done and Y/n smiled softly to herself as she sipped on her juice. She’d done pretty well for herself, not that she was worried. She was Y/n Aizawa of course she was doing good. 

Everyone was staring at her though. She wasn’t sure why. It’s not like she thought she stood out much. She wasn’t all the pretty.

𝐸𝓍𝒸𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝓂𝑒! 𝒴𝑜𝓊’𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒾𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒸𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓈! 𝒴𝑜𝓊’𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓃 𝒜𝐿𝐼𝒞𝐸!

Sorry, didn’t mean to be mean to myself

𝐼’𝒹 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝓁𝒾𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃!

Y/n shuffles to Aizawa’s side, a small pout in her face.

“They’re all staring at me.” She mumbled softly. Aizawa gave his a softly look as he too had noticed all his students.

“Do you not like it?” She shrugged her eyes down cast. 

“I dunno.” Aizawa sighed softly as he motioned to his students. 

“Talk to a few of them, maybe they’ll stop staring.” Y/n left his side, not giving much indication of what she was feeling. 

She looked around, she didn’t want to talk to them. What if they don’t like her. Slowly she approached a pink haired girl. Her hair was fluffy. She pat the girls shoulders. She turned around, stopping her conversation with a few other girls.

“I like your hair.” She uttered. The pink girl laughed.

“Thanks.?”

“It’s like cotton candy.” The pink girl froze. She stared at Y/n differently. She stared at Y/n’s large and doe like eyes. Her full and pretty lips. Her smooth clear s/c skin that seemed to shine softly. She even smelt good, just like sugar.

“Well aren’t you a cutie! I’m Mina Ashido!” Y/n smiled softly as she looked over at Uraraka throw her ball. The two girls who she now knew as Mina (who insisted on being call by her first name) and the pretty raven head Momo Yaoyorozu. 

“Thank you.” She squeaked softly. The two girls went wide eyed as they stared at her. Y/n curled her nose as she watched Aizawa stop Midoryia. 

The rest of the class looked over at her as she rubbed her eyes and yawned sitting in the floor.

So cute!

Y/n rolled her eyes as she watched Aizawa scold the broccoli looking boy. It’s gonna be a long first day.

[drghostwrite]

A baby for Christmas

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x reader & BAU x reader

Summary: this is part 2 to the story two hearts collide, long story short Will left a pregnant JJ who has had feelings for you and she falls for you hard. You make the relationship official, but will it stand another challenge when the time for the baby to be born comes around.

******************************************************** You moved around the kitchen hearing laughter fill the air with soft Christmas music in the background., colorful lights flickered outside the window.The warm lights blended with the smells of your cooking. You had invited the team over for a sort of nontraditional Christmas dinner, you had spent the days before prepping for the meal, you had invited the team over one time before and they loved your cooking and begged so here you were an array of dishes covering your large kitchen island.

You quickly ran upstairs to you and Jj’s shared bedroom, changing into something a little nicer than the leggings and Christmas t-shirt you were cooking in, swapping it for nice jeans with a red and white plaid flannel, you let your curls falls down around your shoulders doing one last mirror check before heading back to the kitchen. You made your way down the hallway towards the large staircase stopping at the nursery door that was cracked open, you slipped in opening the top drawer of the changing table and grabbing a red velvet ring box, JJ had gone into full blown nesting mode and completely redid everything but she started with the nursery so you thought it would be great to hide the ring and turns out it worked.

you tucked it in your pocket and returned to the kitchen, only to be met with your pregnant, soon to be fiancé, sneaking some bites.

“Baby what’re you doing?” You smiled at her as she was caught red handed.

“Sampling the chefs cooking making sure it’s suitable for the general public.”

“Mmhmm I see…” you said getting close and pulling her into a kiss her bump brushing up against you, you lingered there before feeling the baby kick, you ran a hand along her 9 month swollen bump.

“only a few more days and we meet the little one.” You said with a smile but she saw it was laced slightly with disdain though you didn’t mean it.

“Our baby, Y/N we meet our baby, as far as I’m concerned its as much you as it is me.” She traced the side of your face gently with her fingers tips, pulling you down to meet her lips.

“Awww, mistletoe kisses.” Garcia cooed at you.

“Mmhmm mama is getting a special present tonight.” Derek said and you watched as Garcia slapped him in the arm for his dirty mind though you did chuckle, as JJ went bright red and turned hiding in your shoulder.

“Okay well please before it gets cold.” You motioned for them to come closer and took a step back, Derek called to the rest of the team and they quickly filled the room plates being made.

———time jump———

2 hours later and you found yourself putting dishes in the dishwasher and sliding leftover casserole dishes into the oven to keep them semi warm, the table had been cleaned and the team found themselves in your living room everyone helped themselves to the bar and had their respective drinks.

You finished drying your hands on the towel you were holding and made your way into the room. You watched as Garcia and Emily, laughed with JJ on the couch while the guys stood around the pool table, you heard Reid rambling about something while Hotch and Derek had a game going, Rossi was at your bar cart pouring a drink.

“Here love, this might help.” You heard Rossi next to you, extending his glass to you.

“Ahh no thanks.” You said as he just raised an eyebrow in protest but then proceeded to shrug and nurse it himself.

“you’re gonna do it tonight right?”

“yep, while we hand out gifts.”

“you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“take it from someone with three failed marriages, I’ve seen the way you both look at each other and the way you handle Henry, if I believe anyone can do it it’s you two.” You turned giving him a small smile, it meant something coming from him. “On that note though let’s get these gifts going.” He said chuckling before pulling everyone in around your big tree. You walked over and sat sideways behind JJ letting her lean her head back against your thigh, you ran fingers thoughtlessly through her blonde hair, you all watched as you opened various gifts from each other. A bottle of very expensive Italian wine from Rossi, along with some other things and baby items from the members, now it was your turn you handed out your gifts and then all eyes were on you as you knelt in front of JJ on the couch.

“Y/N, what’re you doing?”

“Well I figured everyone got amazing gifts but I already have the best that I could ask for and in turn I have a question for you…” you slipped the red velvet box from your pocket flipping it open, “Jennifer Jareau will you make me the happiest woman alive and marry me?”

“Y/N I-I… Yes omg yes!” She said leaning down to kiss you, you pulled apart and gently held her hand sliding the ring onto her finger, you stood up and Emily also stood to congratulate you as Garcia leaned over to your new fiancé.

“So how’s it feel Jayge?… your gonna be married to the boss?” He said and you punched your best friends arm as Emily hugged you.

“Oh my god…Oh my God…” she said with a gasp.

“Babe he was just…” you didn’t finish before you saw the look of confusion and fear on her face.

“Oh my God.” She said with a gasp, wincing slightly.

“JJ baby what’s wrong? What’s going on?” You said kneeling next to her.

“M-my water just broke… on the couch, Y/N my water just broke.”

“Okay it’s okay.” You said rubbing a soothing hand up her arm. The team started to scramble but thank God for Derek being your rock he quickly ran upstairs grabbing the bags you had packed and putting them in your car, he came back in and ushered everyone out aside from Garcia who offered to stay and help clean up, leaving you to focus on JJ who was starting to feel contractions.

“Y/N car is packed and started.”you nodded to him looking over her shoulder as a contraction started to come over her.

“Okay love we’re gonna have to get you to the car…” you said turning back to her and in your most soothing voice possible.

“You sure, it could be a false alarm?” She said.

“Yes love I’m sure, you’re in labor your water broke, it’s time to go.”

“Okay.” She said as you helped her up and guided her to the car, Derek and Penelope stood by the front door watching as you pulled the car out of the garage and waved as you quickly drove by.

Meanwhile…

Inside the car JJ had her knee pushed up against the dash a hand gripping tightly at the skin under her bump as she contracted. Her other hand was digging into your bicep. She let out a small moan as she focused on the contraction, for a moment it subsided but the next took her breath away stealing it and the only sound that replaced it was a strangled cry.

“Nnghhh… this hurts.”

“Okay baby breathe just try and take deep breaths.”

“Y/N I can’t do this.” Tears gently rolled down her face as she held onto your arm for dear life, her hand u see her bump trying to soothe the burning muscles.

“Yes you can, I’m right here with you.” You reassured.

“Ugh what did I even do to deserve you, you shouldn’t have to be here.”

“What does that mean?”

“I mean I got pregnant and he left, you stepped in without even missing a beat and now I’m going to marry you but our kids won’t be yours.”

“Jennifer baby that’s okay, we can have more kids and as far as I’m concerned they are my kids because I made a choice to love you everyday for the rest of our lives and that includes them so no matter who’s dna they have I will constantly choose them because I love them as much as you.”

“You’re too good to me Y/N Avery….Unghh, but please babe drive a little faster, this baby isn’t going to wait.”

21 hours later and you held the most beautiful baby girl in your arms, you cooed at her as you sat in the recliner and looked up as you heard JJ stir in her bed.

“Is that our baby?”

Mhmm you said a huge smile pulling across your face, you stood moving over to the bed, she scooted over and you climbed in next to her handing her the baby, “Meet your mommy baby girl.”

“Hi baby, I’m your mommy… well one of them that is because you have a mama who also loves you so much and she’s the strongest and bravest woman I know and I’m going to marry her.” She spoke but she was watching you watch your little girl as she said it, you looked over meeting her blue eyes. You pulled her into a kiss foreheads resting against each other before the baby started to coo up at you.

“Looks like someone approves,” you chuckled pulling them both closer to you letting JJ rest in your arms.

“I think she’s saying she wants another sibling, but next time we have one, you’re carrying.” She laughed nudging into your side.

“A deals a deal.” You both laughed watching as your baby girl fell asleep, this wasn’t how you’d imagined spending your Christmas but here you were holding your soon to be wife and newborn baby in your arms.

[karebear923]

Vice Versa rewatch ep. 2

All right here we go!

*squints trying to focus on all the Forest Green* what does it mean??? 😩

The way they said Tun just “keeps cool” these days! But what they don’t know is that he’s actually Puen who got body-swapped into another universe and of course he’s freaking out on the inside but as a celebrity he has to present well on the outside so he “keeps cool” while not knowing what the heck happened!! He must’ve been so scared that whole time 😖

And the club is pink cause that’s where Talay first fell for Puen! 🥰 He knew he wasn’t Tun from the first glance! And Talay is literally the first good thing and first light of hope in Puen’s scary new world!

I remember so many people had an issue with Puen not telling Talay his real name but honestly it makes sense to me! When I was first watching this show I’d tell my sister little summaries of each episode so I could talk them out with her after watching and I don’t remember why but I started calling Puen Brad Pitt 😅 I think I used it as an example to be like “he’s super famous in their world like Brad Pitt is in ours”. And it makes sense that he wouldn’t want to be seen with whatever opinion people have already made about him. He just wanted to be a regular person and even after Talay got to know him and fall for him that fear of knowing him as “that celebrity that I have X opinion about” was still valid! The fear of losing the love he worked hard to get was strong 😢

—Please just give me a moment to simp 😅

Shirtless Jimmy and Sea are both so gorgeous!! Look at those muscles!! 😍 and their gorgeous faces!! What I’d give to be in a 3-way hug with them!!! 🙈 Aaahhh!!! 😆

Ok thank you 😮‍💨😌—

We got the iconic “to be my wife you must endure” and “ai’Dang” quotes in this ep!

Was that password a “My Gear and Your Gown” quote now? 😁 I get it!

I’m thinking of Dol and how he must’ve felt waking up as a woman. He had to learn how to navigate the new world and how to navigate a new body. Do we think the woman he inhabited looked like that when he first switched over? Or did he cut her hair and change her wardrobe to feel more like himself? I mean there’s no telling how long you’ll be in the other world right? I don’t think it’s wrong to give the other person a temporary physical change. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be a man and I’ve always thought that shape shifting into different people like Mystique from X-Men would be a cool power to have.

We got a MilkLove cameo! 😊 I hope their characters had their own beautiful love story and found their way home too!

It’s crazy how this is only episode 2 but we can already see all the ways Puen and Talay go together! Puen’s joy in finally finding someone who can explain what’s going on and Talay being so surprised that they have similar tastes and them finding each other at the end of the maze!! They’re already looking at each other with at least stars in their eyes if not yet hearts! And Puen being so flirty when he said he’d be the one “hurting” Talay! 🤭🫣 Like yeah maybe the quiz matched them with the most similar person(?) but they’re already vibing so hard it’s obvious they’re meant to be together!

I’m so bad with metaphors and stuff so I can see the colors in the episodes but I struggle to see the deeper meanings of things. I’m trying harder this time around and I can see how the shades of green match the energy of the scenes now. I’ll keep trying to notice them!

@stormyoceans 😁

[d1gitvlpupz]

starting today.. you are a royal guard!

swap x dust

fluff

a / n : some words ( spec. dialogue ) may be accidentally not color coded , apologies ! oh and swap is slightly mean in this as a result of his AU basically being destroyed in UNDERVERSE .

⚠️ this work is written by pupz ⚠️

“121.. 122.. 123..” the royal guard in training grunted out as he lowered his body down to the ground in time with his counting. somehow, he was struggling with such a simple workout which is very strange since he’s practically the strongest in the underground of his AU. well, he wouldn’t be struggling right now if there was a certain someone on his back right now. “c’mon blue. how are you gonna be my knight in shining armor if you can’t do a simple push up?” dust snicked as he sat comfortably on top of the latter’s back as swap did his pushups. to be honest, he doesn’t really care about swap getting that position in being a royal guard. obviously, he’s gonna support his boyfriend anyway that he can but he doesn’t understand why he’s so determined about it.

suddenly, swap felt a very noticeable change in dust’s weight that caused him to collapse from being caught off guard. blue magic? seriously? “d-dust! i’m gonna kill you..!” swap grunted out as he struggled underneath dust’s blue magic. “oh noo! gravity is crushing.. down on me..” dust lied dramatically as he snickered at the way the royal guard in training struggled against the heaviness of his blue magic. “no itsss nott!” “it is too, babe. same thing happened yesterday.” dust defended his obvious lie when he recalls the way he forced swap to stay home so he wouldn’t go to work by clinging onto him and holding him down with blue magic. dust chucked at swap struggle as he finally let up.

“124 pushups. proud of you, baby.” dust praised as he leaned forward and pressed his teeth against swap’s skull as a small kiss. “you’re horrible.” swap grumbled as he sat up which made dust fall off his back, making the latter chuckle. “awee, poor babyy.” dust cooed as he wrapped his arms around swap’s neck. “ugh, you stink. when was the last time you showered, dust?” “why do you always ruin a good moment.” dust rolled his eyelights at the comment. burying his skull into the blue fabric of swap’s scarf, smelling the familiar scent of cigarette smoke from papyrus and the smell of cologne. it was comforting to say the least.

“i just wanna hold you.. you’re always trainin’, we barely get to see each other. you don’t even call me anymore.. i miss you, blue.” dust admitted as he tightened his hold on swap slightly. swap had to admit, he was being neglectful. it’s not like it’s his intention, he’s just so busy with everything that he barely has time for dust anymore. “i know, i’m sorry. i just..” swap sighs as he left his sentence unfinished, not knowing how to excuse his actions. “just stay with me.. that’s all i need. please?” “of course, sweetheart.”

.

.

.

“swaaappp! i’m hungryy.”dust whined, keeping his arms wrapped around the smaller’s waist. dipping his head into swap’s shoulder as he waited patiently impatiently for swap to finish up cooking dinner for the both of them. “if you get off, it’ll go much faster.” dust grumbled as he stayed put. “just make sure it’s yummy.” “are you doubting me?” dust let out a small laugh as he pressed small kisses to the sides of swap’s skull. “nah.” swap smiled at the affectionate kisses as he let the meat sit in the pan to cook.

“love you, blue.” “i love you too, dust.”

[lilover131]

Chapter 70 Analysis

I’ll be frank right now. This analysis was hard to write. It’s hard to write not just because of how absolutely wrong all my theories were (lord, were they wrrrrrrrrrrrrooonnng), but because this chapter made me unexpectedly very emotional. I’m just speechless and cannot believe that CLAMP got me again like this. I just find it absolutely amazing how Ohkawa’s writing can steer you in a direction and make you think you know what is going to happen, and every single time, she turns you on your head. Fucking incredible. I honestly don’t know how she manages to do it. Just…everything clicks now and I see the puzzle in front of me showing its picture, and it’s beautiful and also so so heartbreaking at the same time.

 I’m not going to post a gif or image of the month this time, simply because I don’t feel like there is one that really is suitable.

Also, I apologize in advance for the crappy quality images in red of the screenshots I took. The English chapter has yet to come out in good quality and is currently only available on Youtube, so I had to make do with the red colored pages for now. 

 With that said, I’ll get started on my thoughts.

The color page this month is so stunningly gorgeous and it fits the theme of this chapter so well. It is beautiful and warm but also has a melancholy feeling that can’t be shaken. Sakura has a face that looks as if there is something missing, and by the end of this chapter, we know why.

 Admittedly, when the chapter first started, I was very confused. It seemed to jump straight to Kaito using the EXCHANGE card without time for anyone to stop it, thus making my theory that Syaoran would fight to keep it from happening completely wrong. Lol. But I’m not upset about this. Not seeing a Syaoran sacrifice made me relieved, at least for the moment…(I’m still not ruling that shit out for the future. Haha)

 But I wondered what it meant to see Sakura now as the Red Queen and Akiho as Alice. Did this mean Kaito had switched their lives after all? It certainly seemed to be the way things were going, and I was worried that he had been successful and wondered what the repercussions of this would be. It’s been well described in other CLAMP series (-cough- Tsubasa -cough-) that changing the fate’s design like this ultimately creates huge ripples and damages in the world around it. There is a reason it is considered forbidden magic after all, because of course if one could simply undo things or swap lives with people, why wouldn’t it happen all the time?

 The first thing noticed though in particular was that it wasn’t just Sakura and Akiho that seemed to swap in roles. The very outfits themselves were changed. Some of you might recognize them as the first versions of the outfits that Tomoyo had made and decided to start over on as they did not feel right to her. It seems now that this is because these outfits were originally designed for them to be in swapped roles, so Tomoyo’s intuition here seems to reign supreme again but also makes me wonder for the millionth time how she doesn’t have magic (lol). Another difference seems to be that Syaoran has taken on the role of cat in the originally intended method of just voicing rather than acting on stage. Initially, this also worried me as the reason he had done the role on stage physically was to be by Sakura’s side in case something happened, so by seeing him not do this, it made me curious as to whether his relationship with Sakura was still the same.

Moreover, we must keep in mind that the title of the story had also changed from what was originally written. Before, the story of the play was called “The Two Alices” (which now I realize is super sneaky Ohkawa!) before Naoko made a last minute change and titled the play “Alice in Clockland”. Even the story itself seems to have deviated from what we saw before in the previous chapters. Alice Akiho mentions that her family had a fourth chair at the table always open, but she never understood why. And Red Queen Sakura mentions how she doesn’t remember how she became Queen and only ever remembered being in Clockland. The story soon seems to develop to reveal that the Red Queen is actually Alice’s twin sister who was lost long ago. It seems to also have a happy ending with the Red Queen returning home to her family.

 Back on the rooftop of the school, Kaito and Momo are speaking. She asks him how he feels now that he has gotten what he wanted, which is still unclear to us at this point in the chapter.  He claims to be relieved that Sakura finally created the card he needed before Momo goes on to explain to us readers (bless her) on what has occurred. And boy, is it a doozy.

 The first thing was Sakura’s wish, which was simply to switch roles with Akiho and be the Red Queen instead. That seems fairly harmless in nature, but the second wish was for the artifact inside of Akiho to be exchanged to Kaito for his broken pocket watch. Naturally, taking on the artifact is absolutely huge because it was this very thing that the Squid Clan and the Association wanted to keep to themselves desperately. It was their grasp at power, which was all they cared about in this world. Additionally, Kaito had explained before that this artifact had already absorbed so much magic that if it took on anymore that it would crush Akiho’s soul, so what are the implications of that now in Kaito’s body, which undoubtedly already has a ridiculous amount of magic in it? We know already that he has shown no care for his own well being, so this seems to be more dire a situation than he was in before.

 Akiho now has Kaito’s broken watch, but she still has no magic in her body, so she could not use it even if she wants to, so this will not impact Akiho in any way. She seems to be completely free of the binds that tied her to her awful family who wished only to use her as a tool and did not acknowledge her as a person.

 But Kaito took it one step further…

 The scene changes to the end of the play where the girls are being applauded for their performance. Naoko tells them that she knew they were perfect for the role of Alice and Red Queen. And I’ll tell you right now that when I was initially reading this chapter, it was in French (because the English chapter wasn’t quite out yet), and I had to use Google Translate. Upon translating the next speech bubble, I found myself absolutely fucking speechless and wondering if I had typed something in wrong or if Google messed up the translation.

 Not only did Kaito take the artifact away from Akiho, but he also rewrote the past so that Akiho was born as Sakura’s twin sister. I think I can safely say that a majority of us had thought that Kaito was intending to swap Akiho and Sakura’s lives so that Akiho could have a happy life and Sakura would take on the misery Akiho endured. And I feel terrible now thinking he would actually do something so cruel, seeing as he honestly hasn’t really done anything to deserve that opinion. When you think about it, he never actually harmed anyone at any time, and even the trouble he caused was still much less dangerous than even what Eriol put them through (think about it, Eriol nearly had Syaoran cut Sakura in half when he controlled him with threads!). And additionally, most of the trouble was actually caused by Sakura herself with her out of control magic.

 Was Kaito shady? Absolutely. Was he secretive and somewhat manipulative? Of course. But does that inherently make him a bad person? After this, I just can’t see it. What I’ve always enjoyed about Kaito particularly is that he always keeps you guessing. You never know exactly who’s side he’s actually on, and I’ve rather enjoyed learning more about him because of that. But one thing that always remained unfettered was that he cared about Akiho. In fact, Akiho seemed to be the only thing he ever showed any care towards (other than maybe her mother, but we still don’t know exactly how that story ended, and I’m sure we will learn more soon).

 And now that we know what his intentions were, I cannot help but see the clues written all over the wall absolutely EVERYWHERE. CLAMP has literally been dropping hints for years, and I can’t help but be angry for missing it all! Granted, that was the point, but fuck I can’t help but be impressed by the writing just for that alone. Every single mention of how similar Sakura and Akiho were, the mention of them ‘synchronizing’, even Akiho’s fucking name! I have always had a feeling that Akiho’s name wasn’t always Akiho because it felt odd that she had a Japanese name despite being born to English parents in England, but now I can’t help but think that Kaito had her change her name so she could fit neatly into her new life. And still in my head I cannot forget that one scene in the anime (episode 10) with the SNOOZE card where he came to pick up Akiho, and Sakura and Akiho said something with the same reaction at the same time, and Kaito just laughed. I always wondered why he laughed like that, and now it makes complete sense. He was laughing because he had always intended to make Akiho Sakura’s twin sister, and it was funny to him because the two of them were already acting like twins.

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SlT4JhTNgVg&ab_channel=AnimeCat

Not to mention the many many scenes of Kaito seemingly investigating all aspects of Sakura’s life, like her father, Touya, the house she lived in, her mother, Syaoran, etc. He did all of this because he wanted to make sure Akiho would have a good life with Sakura’s family, and that she would be surrounded by those that would protect her. And like…I know many of us noticed this and theorized he was doing this because he wanted to swap Akiho with Sakura, but I feel awful that I never considered them being twins as an option and assumed the worst. What he proved here by making them twins was that he wanted to save Akiho, give her a better life, but without taking away from others in the process.

 But there is one major problem with this wish… or rather two.

 Momo looks to Kaito and tells him that even with his magic, he cannot contain the power of the artifact. It is at this very moment that the pages of the book artifact appear beneath his feet, and some of his memories begin to show in the pages. It was when he was younger and had volunteered to go with Akiho on her journey to absorb more magic. Both the Clan and Association did not like this idea and showed distrust towards him, worried that he’d try to use the artifact for himself. But they decided to make a ‘compromise’ (assholes) by stating that he could take Akiho on her journey if he accepted the ‘Seal of D’. This seal is actually a curse that is intended to keep him in check and will activate if he tampers with the artifact in any way.

 Kaito seems to agree to this without hesitation and is warned that he can never break this seal, and if he does anything to ‘the artifact’ (god I wish they would talk about Akiho like the human being she is), he “can never return”. Do those words sound familiar? CUZ’ THEY FUCKIN’ DO TO ME.

 It turns out that the voice we have seen and heard in the manga and anime several times saying “You can never return” was directed at Kaito. The strange disembodied voice in Sakura and Akiho’s dreams was that of one of the Clan/Association members telling Kaito he could never go back if he broke this vow. And this also explains why Kaito had such a grim reaction when Akiho brought up those words before from her dream. It’s because he knew exactly what those words meant, but he still decided to go through with this anyways. From the very beginning, he knew he was going to sacrifice himself, and although we had our theories about this for quite some time, it is absolutely confirmed now.

A magical seal appears over his chest, almost undoubtedly at this point the ‘Seal of D’, and in my initial read, I again was using Google Translate on the French pages before I saw this text, and it fucking broke me.

I started crying almost instantly. To know that he was a boy that grew up caring for nothing, wanting nothing, liking nothing…to say that the very spell that will undo him is the first spell he ever wanted to use. It’s fucking heartbreaking, and for the first time other than when he laughed, I could see a smile on his face that I knew was 100% genuine in every way. He’s not hiding anymore. It is the smile of someone who feels he has just fulfilled his purpose in life and is ready for the end.

 Momo emulates me and most of the fandom by shouting and crying that he’s an idiot before he completely vanishes within the pages of the book. Sakura halts briefly, having felt something, but appears to brush it off, and lord I wish she wouldn’t have. The rooftop is now empty with neither Kaito or Momo, and the chapter ends there (because of course it does).

 -Wipes tears and blows nose-

 Okay, so this chapter messed me up emotionally, but I honestly loved it. It’s so beautiful and devastating at the same time, but I think I finally have an idea of where the story will go from here. Sakura still should have her magic and she has already developed the ability to remember things despite rewinding of time etc. But I think RECORD will also play a part. The card has been extremely useful in showing things that didn’t even happen in the real world, such as her dreams, but it has also been shown in the anime to show records of past events that happened prior to Sakura even being born and never experienced. I also think the watch will play a part. We know now that Akiho has a broken pocket watch and will likely not be able to remember where it came from but have melancholy feelings when looking at it or some sort of heart ache. I think this watch will assist in bringing Akiho and Kaito back together.

 The ‘Seal of D’ also appears to have the same kind of appearance as the dragon from Sakura’s dreams, so I believe that the curse the Association and Clan put on him will have turned him into this dragon, and that he is currently roaming the world of the book. Because Sakura’s dreams showed the dragon in Tomoeda, I think that he will somehow break through the book in this form at some point, but there is still definitely the question about the Cloaked Figure, and it is still debatable who that will end up being. We know that part is still to come as Sakura has yet to wear the ‘sleeve’ she mentioned before that she would have on when she finally meets the Cloaked Figure for real. 

 God, just when you thought the climax was finally here, it seems we haven’t even reached the tip of the iceberg. This is most definitely why CLAMP needed another full volume to finish it, and I’m all for it.

  I am so fascinated to see the next chapter and what this new timeline is like. Does Akiho know about Kero and Suppi etc.? What has gone on exactly in regards to the Clear Cards? And what about Syaoran? Does he still have the Sakura cards? What are the actual ramifications of this massive timeline change? And Lillie? What happened to her if Akiho was never born her child, and how did this affect Nadeshiko?

 SO MANY QUESTIONS!!

 But we’ll get answers here real soon, and I look forward to talking about them all with you! See you next month!

[the-middle-grounds]

I posted 1,139 times in 2022

149 posts created (13%)

990 posts reblogged (87%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@secretlystephaniebrown

@kineticallyanywhere

@fantastic-nonsense

@abd-illustrates

@marsoid

I tagged 1,139 of my posts in 2022

#q - 963 posts

#reblogged art - 268 posts

#dc - 204 posts

#reblogged videos - 132 posts

#memery - 121 posts

#rambles - 105 posts

#writing is hard - 59 posts

#cats - 53 posts

#bruce wayne - 53 posts

#dick grayson - 51 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i can still write its just that i rely too much on internet autosave and i don't trust device saving after too many incidents with computer

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

June Log 2022|Mid-2022 Log

“June?  What happened to May?”

Recharging.

Well, finally at the middle of the year.  Definitely falling behind my goals, but I have come to some realizations.

First and foremost, while I was looking forward to writing a book around the next year, I’ve come to realize it might be better to hold that off in favor of my planned webcomic.  We’ll see what I stick with by the end of the year, most likely.

I don’t have a second one, I don’t why I acted like I did.

I will say though, I think I need to introduce more routine in my life.  That way I can chip away at stuff more and feel more productive than my usual random bursts of 10k words in one sleep deprived night.

Other than that, June’s here, and I’m going to be swapping out other goals for new ones.

Yay.

Goals for 2022

Rewatch Red Vs Blue

Actually finished season 1.  Plan to finish the rest maybe around August.  Though I think I’ll only go up to season 14.  (Looking into the newest seasons some other time)

One inked and colored drawing a month (even if it’s just monochrome)

Failed and not continuing.  Maybe next year.

Doodle/Drawing Challenge (365 Days of Red-X)

Starts this month on the 8th.  (Was supposed to be May but I got the date wrong).

Finish two one arc of Three Strikes (other than the first arc).

Behind this one. so adjusting it to just one arc.  That arc is about 3 chapters, but could stretch to 4-5.

Finish plotting at least two books of a novel series.

I got this.  Partially.

Design the main cast of a webcomic I’m planning.

I have IDEAS.  Just trying to figure out what I want.  Thankfully most of them wear uniforms.

June Goals

Read Lightning Thief

Actually surprised I didn’t read this earlier considering I was interested in Greek Mythology when I was 12-13.  Fun book so far.

Also what the fuck’s with this kid.

Finish Chapters 2-3 of Three Strikes

Finally got free time AND the drive to write.

I swear once I actually get on a roll it’s over for my procrastination.

For a bit.

See the full post

2 notes - Posted June 2, 2022

#4

Okay but Deliver Us is great

3 notes - Posted February 12, 2022

#3

Another year another Tarah.

Decided to add some simplistic shading and give them some clothes for the first time (i still don’t have an entire outfit in mind).

Some notable changes that I’ve made to the 2021 version:

- Disgruntled Tarah

- Bye, bye back hair ombre (it felt too overpowering when I gave them clothes versus when they didn’t)

- Simplified the hair because it’s painful to draw.

- Simplified their facial markings because it looked way too much like overexaggerated eyeliner.

- Ears! I love tufted ears and need to be contained.  But also didn’t like the overly large/fluffy design.

- Rounder nose (might change back)

- Choker that totally has no relation to the plot.  Absolutely not.

4 notes - Posted April 30, 2022

#2

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Teen Titans (Animated Series), DCU Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Red X/Barbara Gordon, Red X & Dick Grayson, Red X & Jason Todd, Red X & Original Characters, Red X & Bruce Wayne, Red X & Teen Titans, Red X/Komand'r, Red X & H.I.V.E Five, Red X/Kyd Wykkyd, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Red X (DCU), Teen Titans (DCU), Dick Grayson, Koriand'r (DCU), Garfield Logan, Victor Stone, Raven (DCU), Original Characters, Batfamily Members, Bruce Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd, Komand'r (DCU), H.I.V.E Five, Jinx (DCU), Kyd Wykkyd (DCU) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Red X is his own character, Morally Ambiguous Character, Unreliable Narrator, Depression, Dark, Relationship-centric, Family, Team as Family, Canon Disabled Character, Romani Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon is a BAMF, Multiracial Jason Todd, Underage Drinking, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Background Relationships Summary:

One for the money.

Two for the show.

Three to be ready.

And four more to go.

___

He's a thief; he has been all of his life, and he is more than likely to go to the grave with this fact eternally hanging over his head. It's the only thing he's good at; that and ruining things for other people. In some screwed-up way, watching people get what they deserve is even fun for him; it's karmic justice.

But just like every other person, he has flaws and makes mistakes now and again.

And at this rate, they're going to catch up with him.

---

Rated M for Mature Language and Violence.

5 notes - Posted January 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I find the outrage about The Batman not being for kids funny because I've seen at least one person boldly say: "Has there EVER been a child-friendly Batman movie?"

Like Lego Batman didn't come out a few years ago.

16 notes - Posted March 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[princessbatears]

The Jumpsuit

Pairing: Werewolf Paz Vizsla x Female Reader Summary: You decide to do something about Grogu's limited wardrobe POV: Reader Warnings: sexual suggestion, mild language, discussion of children/pregnancy Words: 1k A/N: From my The Crash universe

You knock on Din’s door. He opens it almost immediately, Grogu securely situated in the crook of his arm.

“Thanks for coming on such short notice,” he says, sounding a little flustered. “The pick-up location got changed and I don’t have the space for him.”

Din’s tiny Naboo fighter couldn’t hold more than two. And barely two at that. Paz never got tired of laughing at Din cramming himself in it. Din’s retort was at least he’d never have to lug Paz’s huge ass anywhere.

“No problem,” you smile, making sure the straps of your bag are securely over one shoulder before offering your hands for Grogu.

The little green child is eager to enter them. You snuggle him close.

“I should be back tonight.”

“Just comm me if you’re going to be late. I can sleep over.”

Din scoffs playfully. “I’m not sure Paz can handle being without you for one night.”

You wink. “It’ll do him some good to miss me.”

Within a couple of minutes, Din’s said goodbye to his son and left.

“Do you want to help me with a project?” you ask Grogu as you settle on the sofa with your bag.

He babbles excitedly, hopping up next to you. He peers into your bag and then pulls out a ball of soft, bright blue yarn. It was the same color as his favorite cookies.

He squeals excitedly, both at the color and texture.

“You like that?”

He grins, digging his fingers into it.

Pleased, you pull out your knitting needles. “I’m going to make you an outfit with it. Your father may think you only need a robe and some chain mail, but I disagree. You need a comfy little jumpsuit.”

Seeing that Grogu doesn’t want to let the ball go, you quickly unwind some of the yarn, snip it off with your sewing scissors, and swap with him.

Then, while he’s busy playing, you take some quick measurements of his tiny body. He giggles as your fingers and the tape measure tickle him.

You’re about halfway through knitting the main piece when there’s a knock on the door. You have a sneaking suspicion you know who it is, and you’re right. Your riduur fills the doorway in his blue armor.

“Paz, what are you doing here?” you ask, trying to seem unamused.

“I missed you,” he says, his deep voice making the pout behind it sound ridiculous.

It’s almost the full moon, which means he can get a little clingy. You don’t mind nearly as much as you pretend.

“I’m very busy knitting Grogu’s outfit.” You turn your back on him, but leave the door open.

He shuts it before following you into the living space, where Grogu’s wrapping his bit of yarn around the shiny, small metal ball he always has with him.

“Hey, kiddo,” Paz says warmly. “What are you doing?”

Grogu chatters an explanation as Paz sits next to him. His weight sends the baby a couple inches off the cushion, which causes a scream of delight from him.

You laugh, grabbing your knitting and moving to a chair so Paz can continue bouncing without disrupting your rows.

The afternoon passes sweetly, with Paz playing with Grogu until he falls asleep. Then, Paz gently tucks a blanket around him and pulls off his helmet so you can see his face.

“You know...” he begins softly, “now that we’re settled, maybe it’s time to be thinking of having a youngling of our own.”

You smirk at him. “I think it’s time to do more than thinking.”

A soft growl rumbles through him and his eyes glow yellow. “How long until Din gets back?”

“No idea,” you say primly, as if his reaction does nothing to you.

He huffs, making you laugh.

Later, you’ve just finished the final touches on the onesie when Grogu stirs. Paz quickly puts on his helmet again.

After a huge yawn, the baby opens his eyes.

“Look what I finished for you,” you smile, going to kneel in front of him.

He babbles, fingering it.

“Do you want to try to it on?”

He’s already tugging at his own robes. You help him out of them before dressing him in the jumpsuit. It’s roomy enough for him to move with freedom but still cozy. It has sleeves that go to the wrists and the legs stop at his ankles.

“I didn’t know you had feet!” Paz teases, poking at the little claws with a finger.

Grogu laughs uproariously.

“What do you think? Is it comfy?" you ask.

He coos, running his hands over it, and then offers you a huge, delighted smile.

You wrap him in an embrace, kissing his cubby, pink cheeks.

It’s at that moment that the front door opens and Din walks in. “Paz,” he says dryly. “You couldn’t even handle five hours without her?”

“Shut up, it’s almost the full moon,” Paz snaps.

Grogu jumps off the couch and waddles over to his father.

“Buddy, look at you!” Din sounds quite surprised and you’re not sure if he’s okay with the gift. Maybe you should have asked first.

Grogu tugs at the vivid blue material eagerly as Din scoops him up.

“It’s soft, huh?” Din’s helmet turns in your direction. He knows you made it. “Thank you. It’s hard to find him clothes in his size and shape.” Poor, tired man didn’t even think about having them custom-made, apparently.

You smile. “I’ll make him more if you want.”

“I’ll take you up on that. But I’m paying next time,” he says firmly, rubbing Grogu’s hand absently with his fingers.

“You can pay me in buying me good yarn when you’re off-world. I’m almost out of what I brought.” And if you and Paz are going to have your own little one, you’re going to need lots of it.

Thank you SO much for reading this story; I'd love to hear your thoughts! 🥰

Paz Vizsla Masterlist

Werewolf Masterlist

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 2,509 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, coerced marriage, gore, violence, sexuality, typical TWD stuff (recommended NC17+) A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: Y/N and Daryl make a break to get out of The Sanctuary.

Your name: submit What is this?

You waited for Negan to roll out the next morning, and he did so with quite a caravan and a lot of trucks. The Sanctuary felt empty and quiet. It was just what you needed. You decided to try one last chance for a weapon. Dwight’s room. You slipped inside and looked around. No sign of the crossbow or the vest—he was probably wearing them, but you found a knife in a leather sheath. There were piles of folded clothes on a table near the door and you grabbed some for Daryl, shoving them hastily into your bag, which was already loaded with water and food. You nestled the knife in on top and headed for Daryl’s cell. You carefully glanced around and listened for any approaching footsteps. You heard none. You unlocked the door and Daryl was standing inside. “Here,” you said, handing the clothes and shoes to him. “And this.” You held out the knife and nodded at him. He could read fear in your eyes but you looked determined.

“Thanks,” he said.

“I’m gonna do a sweep down to the exit and back up. I’ll be back,” you said, starting to fiddle with the keys.

“Hey,” Daryl’s hand landed on your arm. “Be careful,” he drawled. There was fear in his eyes too. You nodded.

“I will. Five minutes,” you said. You closed the door and locked it again, just in case anyone happened to check, shoving the keys in your bag and trying to walk casually when every muscle in you wanted to run.

There were a few workers mopping a side hallway, but they were almost done. Otherwise, the coast was clear. Several guards were bullshitting in the guard room with their feet up, laughing loudly and swapping stories about their best walker kills.

You inserted the key into the door that led outside and unlocked it. You pushed it open just a sliver and glanced around the small gravel lot. It was empty. And there sat Daryl’s bike.

You withdrew, locking it again, just in case someone tried it, and forced yourself to walk slowly back up to Daryl’s cell, checking around each corner before you moved. Your heart was pounding. You were so close. Almost there. You just needed your luck to hold out a little longer.

You lightly tapped on the door and heard Daryl let out a low whistle. You unlocked it, and pulled the door open. He was standing there in the clean clothes you had given him and you almost started crying just at the sight of him out of that horrible sweatshirt. “It’s clear,” you whispered. “C’mon.”

He kept his hand on the knife and followed you silently. You peeked around the first corner. Clear. The second corner. Clear. Down the back staircase. You poked your head out and checked both ways down the hall. Clear. You rifled through the keys and found the one you needed to unlock the outside door. Then you dug a hand into the pocket of your jeans and pulled out the motorcycle key. You turned and looked at Daryl, holding it out with a nod. He took it and nodded back, rocking a little anxiously on his feet and glancing back over his shoulder.

You crossed the hallway to the door and unlocked it. You could smell freedom. You pushed the door open about an inch and listened. You pushed it open a bit wider and glanced around. Nothing. You glanced back at Daryl and grinned, tilting your head.

You both slipped into the yard and Daryl went to his bike, checking to make sure there was gas in it and that everything was connected to get it started. You were waiting anxiously nearby when you heard feet scuffing on the gravel and a familiar voice behind you.

“Whoa. Hey—Y/N and—woah. Okay,” Joey said nervously, lifting his hands up. “I won’t say anything. I just—you can go. I won’t tell anybody. I swear.”

You exchanged a glance with Daryl, who had unsheathed the knife, and turned back to Joey. “Shut up,” you said. “Don’t move.” That’s when you saw Rick’s gun sticking out of his waistband. You scowled at him and pulled it out, looking back at Daryl again. No hesitation, Daryl plunged the knife into the base of Fat Joey’s skull. He dropped instantly with a weighty thud.

You stared down at him for a moment, feeling a wave of remorse. Daryl touched you on the shoulder. “I had to. He woulda told everyone,” he said. “C’mon.”

Daryl mounted the bike, kicked up the kickstand, and started rolling it to the gate. You unlocked the padlock on the gate before heaving it open as the bike roared to life.

Daryl gave you a triumphant smile as you jogged over to climb on, wrapping your arms securely around his waist. At the feeling of your arms tightening around him, he revved the engine and you were gone, speeding away from The Sanctuary and leaving nothing but a cloud of dust.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You’d been riding for a while, squeezing onto Daryl at every turn, glancing back over your shoulder every few seconds, certain that you would look back and see them on your tail.

But at some point, the realization washed over you that you had made it. You had made it. You were out. You were gone. And Daryl was in front of you, safe. You held more tightly to him and you were surprised when his right hand pressed over your left one which was resting on his side. You could feel the roughness of his palm against your skin as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. You relished the feeling.

You pressed your cheek against his shoulder and shut your eyes, breathing in a gasping, shaking breath like you had been underwater since you’d walked out of the woods with your hands up at that outpost. It was like you had been slowly drowning and suddenly were able to come up for air.

Daryl must have felt you shaking because he glanced at you over his shoulder and began to slow, abruptly turning off into the woods and stopping the bike.

You straightened up, suddenly anxious and scared all over again, glancing over your shoulder as he climbed off the bike. “What is it? What’s wrong?” you asked urgently. Had you let out that sigh of relief too soon?

He shook his head and held out a hand to help you off. You accepted it and climbed down. “Nothin’. Nothin’s wrong,” he said. He was staring into your face as you glanced around. You seemed to be reeling. “I just—I thought—might just need a minute,” he said. “We can stop for a minute.”

Your chest was still heaving and you nodded at him, glancing around at the green forest you were in and then back at the man standing in front of you. He watched as your breathing slowed and became shallower, and something shifted. You shut your eyes and suddenly leaned forward, putting your hands on your knees and hanging your head, a curtain of your hair falling forward and blocking your face from view. If he could have seen it, it was contorted with emotion.

Daryl rushed forward. “Hey. Ya alright?”

You nodded, feeling lightheaded and sank down to your knees, relishing the feeling of the soft soil beneath them and the cool moisture soaking through your jeans. “We made it,” you said breathlessly. “We fucking made it.” Your tone was complete disbelief and Daryl watched you kneeling there in front of him.

“Ya. We did.” He sat down in front of you, leaning back on his hands and digging his fingers into the earth. “You did that,” he said. He shook his head. “Ya did all of it.”

You simply stared at him, trying to catch your breath, your lips slightly parted. A few tears escaped your eyes which were all the more vibrant looking due to the glassiness in them.

“Y/N,” he said, shaking his head. “What ya did—” Daryl was never much for words, but at that moment they failed him completely.

You tore your eyes away and shook your head. You weren’t ready for that yet. “Oh—here,” you said, digging in your bag. You pulled out two canteens and some food. “You need this.”

Daryl gave you a perceptive look, not missing the quick subject change, and accepted it with a nod. “Thanks.” He watched you as you raised your canteen to your lips, the bruise on your neck from Negan even more glaringly obvious in the bright daylight.

His fist clenched. “I’m gonna kill him,” he growled suddenly. The deep rage in his voice shot your eyes back up to his face. “Negan.”

You replaced the cap on your canteen and stared down at your knees in the soil. “I think you may have to fight Rick over that,” you said quietly. “Or me.”

“Nah. They’re mine,” he said, unwrapping the bread you had packed for him. “Him and Dwight. They’re already dead,” he growled.

You stared at him thoughtfully for a moment, but then dug a hand into your bag and withdrew a bandana. You uncapped your canteen and poured a little water on it. “Here,” you said, straightening up and moving closer in front of him. “You’ve got blood on your face. And it’s not yours this time.”

Daryl didn’t flinch as you gently wiped the spatter from his forehead and cheek. He sat stock still and used the moment while you were intent on him to study your face up close again, the flecks of color in your eyes, the soft fray of your eyelashes, and the full pout of your lips. He felt a longing in his chest that was impossible to ignore but he quickly squashed it down as best he could, shifting a little where he was seated. You weren’t safe yet.

“I wanted to clean you up every time I saw you,” you said quietly, withdrawing after you had gotten the last of the stains off his cheek. “Even just wipe the dirt off your face. But I was afraid they’d notice even that.”

Daryl averted his eyes back to the bread in his hands. “Ya. I probably stink,” he said, glancing up at you with one corner of his mouth twitching up. “Sorry. Ya gotta smell me all the way back to Hilltop.”

You smiled at him, just a small one, but at that moment he’d take it. “All I can smell is the fresh air and freedom.”

Daryl broke a big chunk of cheese off the wedge you had stolen and brought along and he nodded. “One more minute. And then we’ll go,” he said.

You nodded and stood up, brushing the dirt from your knees. You paced away over to a big oak tree and leaned back against the trunk, watching the archer eagerly devour the food you’d brought for him. You rested a hand on the handle of Rick’s gun, which you had tucked into your waistband. “I’m sorry. I tried to find your crossbow and get your vest but—that asshole must be wearing them.”

Daryl sighed and nodded, wrapping up what was left of the food and drinking deeply from the canteen again. “Yeah. He is. He always is.” He brushed the soil from his fingers and jeans and tilted his head toward the bike. “C’mon. Let’s get you behind some safe walls.”

You climbed on behind him and wrapped your arms around him again. Daryl focused on the feeling of you leaning against him.

For the rest of the ride, you kept your mind blank and just looked and felt. By the time the walls of Hilltop came into view, you were exhausted, physically and emotionally.

Maggie was up on the lookout post, just staring out at the landscape, sometimes deep in thought and sometimes just numb. But she snapped up straight when she heard and saw a lone motorcycle approaching. She grabbed the binoculars and looked through. “Oh my God,” she said aloud. “Sasha! Enid! Get out here!” She turned to the men on gate duty. “Open the gates!” she urged, immediately rushing to climb down.

You watched over Daryl’s shoulder as the gates opened to you and he pulled inside. Maggie was standing there waiting, a look of disbelief on her face. Sasha and Enid were running over as Daryl helped you off the bike. All of them stood looking at the two of you in disbelief. You felt like you were in a daze. The voices and sounds around you were hazy, distorted, and your vision was starting to be a bit blurry around the edges.

Maggie rushed and grabbed Daryl into a tight hug. You watched his whole body stiffen. She released him and stood in front of you, a teary smile on her face, and grabbed you tightly too. You hugged her back with everything you had.

“You’re alright? They said you were sick,” you said, pulling back to look into her face. You were surprised at how weak your voice sounded, and it wasn’t lost on anyone around you. Their faces immediately contorted into concern and Daryl moved closer to you again, studying your expression. You ignored it. Tears formed in your eyes as you thought of Glenn. “Maggie, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m alright. The baby is fine,” she said holding onto your forearms as you pulled back from her hug.

“I’m so, so sorry,” you whispered. You nodded and pulled away from her all the way, still forcing yourself to ignore how shaky and weak your knees suddenly felt. You didn’t have a second to breathe before Sasha grabbed you, followed by Enid.

Enid looked up at you. “How is everyone at Alexandria?” she asked desperately.

You gulped and shook your head, almost struggling to speak now. “I don’t—I don’t know. I haven’t been there in… a while.”

Daryl moved closer to you again and spoke your name. You looked at him and tried to focus on his face but the blur around the edges of your vision was encroaching completely now and you suddenly staggered on your feet. “Y/N,” he said desperately.

Maggie exchanged a frantic look with Sasha.

“Y/N! Hey!” Daryl said again, reaching out and grabbing gently onto your arms. You were in a fog as you held onto him, wavering on your feet. He swore under his breath. The color drained from your face and the next moment everything went black. You didn’t fall. Daryl was right there, scooping you into his arms as you went limp.

[accioxreparo]

ink stains

synopsis: soulmate au in which every mark that appears on your body also appears on your soulmate’s body including, as you discover one day, drawings. Needless to say you’re determined to make your soulmate smile, even if you haven’t found them yet.

pairing: George Weasley x ravenclaw!reader

warnings: none

a/n: Hi I’m late to the party but @thoseofgreatambition is doing a soulmate theme night and I’m a ho for soumate au’s so hopefully mine is decent enough lol also I may or may not be writing one for fred too but it’s taking me ages so 

tagging: @the-hufflepuff-of-221b

~~~~~~

When you were six years old you woke up one morning to dark stains splattered all over your face and arms. You were confused and quickly grew panicked, absolutely positive that you had contracted Dragon Pox overnight. It had taken an hour for your dad to calm you down enough so he could explain with a small grin that your soulmate must’ve spilled an inkwell on themselves. 

“What do you mean?” You had asked with wide, curious eyes.

“Well,” Your dad had reached for the bedside table and picked up a quil. “Everybody has a soulmate, Y/N. One day you start being able to see the marks that appear on your soulmate's body, permanent or temporary. For you, that day happens to be today.” He dipped the quil in a well filled with bright blue ink and handed it to you. “Why don’t you give it a try? Write your soulmate a message.”

“What if they don’t write back?” You had frowned then, suddenly worrying that maybe this mystery person on the other end would want nothing to do with you. 

“Well that’s okay,” Your dad had been quick to reassure you. “They might not be able to see the marks yet. But one day they will and I just know they’ll be ecstatic to know you’re here.”

After that day there was a constant stream of doodles all over you. Vines snaking up your ankle. Twisting patterns winding around your fingers. Planets and stars littering your collarbone area. Stripes of random colors all over your palms as you mixed new colors. The most detailed pictures were always on your left arm though, that was where you practiced new drawings. 

Occasionally you wrote a message but mostly you drew. Then one day you bought a book about charms to cast on drawings in Flourish and Blotts and you begged your dad every chance you got to cast them for you. After that at least a few pictures were always moving up and down your body.

When you got your very own wand at the age of eleven they were the first spells you practiced. By the end of your first year at Hogwarts you had mastered the whole book. Since then there was always a constant supply of different colored inks in your bag and pockets. The array of multicolored moving pictures that changed every day was your one connection to your soulmate. 

They had yet to write back. 

It had been ages since you first found your connection to your soulmate. You’d dealt with scars and bruises and occasional scribbled reminders but never once had you ever received even an acknowledgment of anybody seeing your drawings. 

You tried not to let it bother you, you really did. But it seemed like every single person around you had known their soulmate for years, in one way or another. Some days the smile you wore wasn’t quite genuine, the longing you felt growing a little deeper at times, but never once did you fail to decorate your limbs with gentle reminders that you were there for your soulmate to find on themselves. 

Not until that day. You were set to leave for school the next morning and your father had taken the week off of work to see you off. The two of you, your older brother, and your younger sister were probably too focused on the quidditch match you had going against each other in the backyard of your house. So much so that the bludger hit your way completely blindsided you. 

The match ended with panicked shouts, a trip to St. Mungos, and your left arm wrapped tightly in cloth bandages as it rested in a sling while your bones healed. 

It was only when you were sitting in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express that the strangest thing happened. Words scrawled in letters that weren’t your own had appeared on your right arm. 

Nothing new today? 

As you stared at the writing with wide eyes, more words appeared underneath those. 

I’m sure this is bending the rules but I had to know. Something’s wrong isn’t it?

Frantically you dumped out the contents of your bag, scattering them all over the floor of the compartment. You dug around the mess you had made until you found a self-inking quil. Just as you were about to write your response you caught sight of the bandages on your arm and gave a defeated sigh. 

“Would you like some help?” 

You looked up and saw Luna, a friend of yours a couple years below you, watching you with an amused smile. The two of you would always sit up late in the common room together, swapping theories and stories about anything and everything. 

“If you don’t mind,” You gave her a sheepish look and she only smiled before moving to sit next to you. 

“What would you like me to write?” Luna asked as she took the quil out of your hand. You smiled and told her, watching as she took your arm and wrote out your words for you. 

What makes you think something is wrong?

It was seconds later when you received your response. 

Not once in the six years since I’ve been able to see your drawings have you let a day pass where you don’t add new ones. What’s wrong? 

A smile graced your face and Luna was kind enough to help you continue the conversation happening on your arm. 

I’m fine. Just a Quidditch injury. I’ll have the bandages removed by tonight, don’t worry. 

Take your time. I don’t want you to hurt longer than you have to, love.

You were sure it was cheating, talking to your soulmate by writing messages on your arm. But if whatever soulmate forces were out there didn’t want you to talk to them then there shouldn’t have been such a simple loophole. 

That’s what comforted you late that night, now gently scrawling messy words quickly on your arm that had been broken only the day before. Never before had you been more thankful for Skele-Gro. 

Can I ask you something?

The print you wrote with was small on purpose, trying to keep as much room available as possible. It didn’t stop you, however, from doodling new little pictures on the back of your hand. 

Go for it.

Why haven’t you ever said anything before? Why now?

You stared at the words you had written for a few moments before sighing and heading to the bathroom that was connected to your room. Only after staring at the words covering both arms now for a minute or two did you start washing away the ink you had put there. 

For a minute you thought that you shouldn’t have asked. You stood in silence, watching as the remainder of the ink, the part written in your soulmates handwriting, was slowly washed away leaving only faint ink stains. Then to your relief a response came after it was all gone. 

I was worried. And let’s just say I’m not as artistic as you are, my talents lie in other places. 

For a second the writing stopped but then more words appeared, quicker than they had before. 

Also I may have missed seeing you draw new pictures for me a little too much.

You beamed at the words and walked back to your bed. After the curtains were pulled around it you lit the end of your wand and picked up your quil again. 

Do you like them? The pictures. 

The response was almost immediate. 

I love them.

***

“Miss Y/L/N.” 

You jumped in your seat at the sound of a voice calling your name. Slowly you looked up from where you were taking notes on nonverbal spells. Professor Flitwick stood only a few feet away with an exasperated look on his face. Meanwhile both of the Weasley twins sat at their desk looking quite satisfied with whatever they had just done. 

You’d been correct to assume they were behind whatever loud noise had been going on only minutes before. The desk the twins were sitting at was now charred and the other Gryffindors surrounding them were chatting excitedly about whatever it was you missed while your nose was buried in your charms book. 

Neither Fred or George Weasley missed the fact that you were trying and failing to keep back an amused smile.  

“You’ll be getting a new partner to do your project with,” Professor Flitwick lifted his wand and with a single flick a bag and a pile of unused textbooks was flying across the room and into the empty space next to you. “Mr. Weasley.” 

Both boys stood at the same time wearing matching smirks and chorused, “Yes, Professor?” 

You covered your mouth with your hand to stifle your laugh when Professor Flitwick sighed and shook his head upon realizing that he really should have seen that coming. “Mr. George Weasley. Come meet your new partner.” 

Oddly enough said person didn’t look disappointed by the new assignment at all. Instead he grinned as he approached you, sliding into the chair beside you easily. 

You could count the number of times you had spoken to George Weasley on one hand. The first time had been during potions when he’d asked to borrow some foxglove for a pompion potion. It wasn’t the potion you’d been assigned to brew but you hadn’t questioned it. The second time he’d walked up to you and your friends after a quidditch match to congratulate Ravenclaw on their victory against Slytherin despite the fact that none of you were on the team. And the third time was only a few weeks before when he asked to borrow a spare quil in transfiguration. 

You doubted he remembered any of that though. 

“So partner,” George leaned on the desk, head resting on one of his hands as he looked at you. “What do you know about,” He reached over to look at the piece of parchment you’d been taking your notes on. “Nonverbal spells? That’s our topic?” 

“It is,” You nodded and reached for your notes, hoping he wouldn’t flip over the parchment to see the drawings you’d absentmindedly doodled during the lecture. “Is that a problem?” 

“Not at all,” George’s smile turned softer then as he stared at you, a fact which you noticed. You turned away quickly as you felt your face burn, hoping silently that it wasn’t too noticeable. “On the contrary. From what I hear you’ve already mastered a few nonverbal spells yourself Y/N, dearest.”

You froze then, not sure which revelation surprised you more. The fact that apparently you had developed a reputation without you knowing or the fact that George Weasley of all people knew your name. 

You tried your hardest to fight the temptation to ask how he knew you and why. 

“Class is almost over,” Your words came out rushed and a little too loud to sound natural. It wasn’t a complete lie. In just ten minutes you’d all be dismissed and that was hardly enough time to make even a small dent into your project. “We should meet sometime before our next class to get started if we want to have it done by the due date.”

“You’re so...ravenclaw,” George spoke after a few moments. When you looked at him again he was still giving you that same soft smile, a different sort of glint in his eyes than the one you were used to seeing every now and then.

For a second your thoughts drifted to the words scrawled on your right arm and the pictures on your left. They were covered up by the sleeves of your sweater as they usually were but you could picture the words you and your soulmate had written to each other earlier that day clearly. 

“Is that a bad thing?” You found yourself asking, for some strange reason not being able to bring yourself to pull away from George’s gaze. 

“No,” He shook his head gently almost immediately. “It’s perfect.”

***

You had to give credit where credit was due. When it came down to it, George Weasley could in fact step up to the plate. 

Even now, an early Sunday morning the day after a trip to Hogsmeade, he sat right in front of you. 

You knew for a fact he had been up late the previous night causing his usual mischief alongside his brother. One of the Ravenclaw prefects had been patrolling the halls and you overheard him complaining about having to send the twins back to their dorm for the fourth day in a row when he entered the common room.

It had made you smile. 

You’d spent at least a couple hours each day alongside George for the past two and a half weeks. Some of that time had indeed been spent on your project but you found it easier to talk to him than you thought it would be. You couldn’t even begin to count the variety of tales he told you just to hear you laugh.

That, however, meant that the two of you had developed a tendency to avoid your work resulting in you being behind. The next day the two of you would have to present in front of the class. You had already gotten away with postponing the presentation twice. 

The first time you had told Professor Flitwick that you needed more time to gather as much information as the topic deserved. The second time George had eaten one of the products he had told you he was working on, one he called a nosebleed nougat. It had worked like a charm and the moment you left the classroom with him he ate another candy and it stopped.

It was the only reason the two of you had woken up at that godforsaken hour of the morning on a Sunday. There was simply no other option now.

“I think all of our research is done and I can write up some notes for us to remember during the presentation,” You reached for another roll of parchment from your bag to do just that before dipping your quil in an inkwell filled with bright blue ink. “But we still need to practice some nonverbal spells for the practical demonstration. What do you think we should -”

It wasn’t until you looked away from the pile of books in front of you and at George that you realized he had dozed off.  His head was resting on his arms which were crossed on the desk in front of him and he looked almost peaceful for once. 

The corner of a piece of parchment was sticking out from under one of his arms and suddenly you couldn’t help yourself. Slowly you leaned forward until you could reach the parchment and you began to sketch a field of flowers on the paper in various ink colors. 

You didn’t notice your own smile as you did so. 

Then the end of your quil brushed across George’s face and he almost immediately bolted up in his seat. After rubbing the sleep out of his eyes once more he looked over only to find you biting your bottom lip to keep from laughing. 

“You look suspicious,” George narrowed his eyes at you playfully when he saw the look on your face, still not noticing the addition to his parchment. 

“Do I?” You smiled then as you leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms in front of you. 

“You do,” He leaned forward on the desk again and the grin you’d come to see on a regular basis returned. “May I ask why?” 

“No reason at all. I’m just excited to learn some nonverbal spells is all,” You laughed as you stood from your seat, squinting a little at the late morning sun shining through the windows. “Speaking of, I’m gonna go search for some books a friend of mine recommended with some spells we could use.” 

“Do we not have enough of those here?” George said as he glanced at the pile of no less than seven books, none of which he could remember anything about. 

“Those are all on history and theory. We need something on practical application.” 

“Right,” George let out a sigh as he reached for one of the unopened books. “You’re lucky I like you. I can’t remember the last time I did this much reading for a project.” 

You hummed and then shook your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Don’t I feel honored.” 

“Just get on with it,” George glanced up from the pages of the book he’d been flipping through and at you again, this time with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Faster we finish with this, the sooner we can sneak into the kitchens for a late breakfast.” 

You were quick to agree. George watched as you disappeared behind one of the bookshelves. It was only when he was sure you were gone that he rolled up the sleeve of his sweater and reached for a quil, quickly scribbling a message to his soulmate on his right arm. 

When he was done writing the message he caught sight of the flowers that you had drawn on the corner of his parchment and he grinned. Almost absentmindedly he started drawing flowers around your own, albeit a little simpler than the designs you had made. It took a minute for his eyes to widen, quil falling out of his hand, realizing that the flowers you had drawn on the paper he had already seen dozens of times before. In fact, a variation of them sat on his left arm now.

***

Finally four hours later you and George sat in the kitchens which you’d found surprisingly empty. Breakfast and lunch had come and gone and the two of you had gladly accepted a variety of foods from a couple of the house elves. 

You were completely oblivious to the way George was studying you closely, trying as hard as he could to see if he was right. 

“Puddlemere United,” He said when he caught sight of the patch sewn onto the jacket you were wearing. “I take it you’re a fan?” 

“I sort of have to be,” You laughed a little when you saw the confused look flash on George’s face. “My dad is Puddlemere’s captain.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not, promise,” You smiled as you shook your head. Without hesitation you pulled off your jacket, flipping it around so the back was visible, and pointed to a navy blue crest with the Puddlemere United logo and the word ‘captain’ across it in bold, golden letters. “Has been for a few years now and here’s your proof.” 

But when you looked at George he wasn’t looking at the jacket at all. Instead he was staring at the variety of words and pictures covering your arms. You could see his eyes darting back and forth and quickly pulled your arm away and under the table. 

“Wait,” He reached across the table and took your hand in his, slowly turning your arm around so he could see all every single stroke of ink. You could only watch as he gently traced the designs with his free hand. 

The moment was soft, intimate in the purest way. You swore you could hear your own heart thumping louder each second that passed. It reached its peak when George placed your arm on the table in front of the two of you only to pull off the sweater he’d been wearing. It was then that the breath you were holding in left you. 

Every single ink stain on your arms was perfectly reflected on his. Now that you looked closer you wondered how you hadn’t recognized his handwriting right away, you’d spent the last few months writing back and forth after all. You’d been so focused on the drawings and the writing that you hadn’t noticed what, or rather who was right in front of you. 

“I knew it was you, you know.” 

Your laugh was light when you finally dared to look at George once more. He was looking at you with pure and utter adoration and you were positive you wore the same expression. “Did you now?” 

“I did,” George grinned as he took your hand again, more confident than he had previously been. “Remember our first year when I asked you for that foxglove? I was supposed to nick it from one of the shelves but you had your sleeves rolled up and I swore I saw the edge of the stars you had drawn earlier that day. I went to get a closer look but they were covered again.” 

“And I suppose it was the same thing in transfiguration a month ago?” You shook your head with an amused smile as you thought back to the encounter. It all seemed so obvious now.

“It was. Same thing with the quidditch match a few years ago too,” He leaned forward as if what he were about to tell you were a secret. Suddenly it was like he couldn’t let you go, not that he’d ever want to now that he’d finally found you. “What made me almost certain though was the little drawing you left on my parchment earlier. I knew I’d seen those before.” 

“Well I suppose it’s a good thing you’ve kept your eyes open unlike me apparently,” You were beaming as you glanced down at the matching pictures present on both of you. “What do we do now?” 

“I’m glad you asked,” George immediately stood, pulling you up with him. He grabbed hold of your jacket still sitting on the table and started pulling you out of the kitchens. “Now that we’ve found each other we’re going to make up for lost time.” 

“By doing what exactly?” You asked, eyebrows raised questioningly and a slight smirk on your face. 

“Head out of the gutter, love,” George laughed as the two of you walked back up the stairs still hand in hand. He looked down at you with a wild grin on his face. “We’re going on our first date if you’re up for it.” 

You agreed instantly and happily followed to wherever it was George would take you, just as you knew you always would from that moment on.

[dontloseyourpants]

Stripped on Stage

A commission I received from @gaystripstories! You can also find him on Twitter here. And you can support him by buying his stories on Amazon here.

I'll out the actual story below the cut. It's about a cocky young Broadway bound hunk who has an embarrassing incident on stage during his big debut. Hope you all enjoy it as much as I did!

Before the Show: 

Hey, just wanted to stop by and wish everyone a great show! 

A sea of blank faces stared up at him, but he kept plodding on to get the reaction that he  desired. Walking further into the crowded dressing room, he finally stopped right behind me. 

I miss the camaraderie of being packed down here with everyone… it’s so lonely having  that dressing room upstairs all to myself. I usually just spend time before shows lying on my  couch until first call. 

Looking up, I saw his face forcing itself into what he thought was a genuine smile. For  someone who was apparently a much better actor than our poor little show deserved, he really  had such a hard time hiding his true emotions. 

Roger Stilton had quickly made a name for himself on Broadway. A Julliard grad just  like his rich father, he headed straight to Broadway and began booking any role he wanted. With  leading man good looks, his slicked back dark hair, and a jawline that could cut steel, Roger  actually could have earned his roles without daddy’s donations. 

As I continued looking up at him, I realized two things. First, his blush was much too  heavy for a theater as small as this one. 

Roger, sit down- let me help you out a bit. Quickly standing up in my boxers and  undershirt, I let him plop into my chair before wiping a makeup wipe across that beautiful face.  Here’s a tip when you’re not sure how strong to make your blush- you have to see what it should  be naturally and then add two swipes. 

Quickly taking hold of the bottom of his t-shirt, I ripped it over his head to expose that  chest to the whole room. His perky pecs and six pack abs were to die over, but for some reason,  even with all of that narcissism, he didn’t like showing off his body. 

See- that’s the color you want. 

I saw his eyes connect with his reflection to see the blush covering his cheeks, and I  added a bit of my powder onto his face to match. Grabbing his shirt, he just awkwardly held it in  front of him before walking back out of the room with his parting words flung over his shoulder. 

Well, let me let you get back to getting ready… I just love having a great ensemble behind  me on stage. 

I wanted to hate him, but I couldn’t. At least not for another week. He’d joined our show  after workshops, and even if I wouldn’t admit it, he was the reason we’d gotten our residency at  our off-Broadway theater. He was already booked for his next role in a few weeks in one of the  larger theaters, but if I had anything to do with it, I wanted to put his name in the news for  another reason. It was time to confirm the second thing that I realized once Roger walked in  here. 

Listen up. Every head turned back towards me this time, but unlike Roger, I could tell  that they wanted to hear what I had to say. I had a couple of decades on all of the younger actors 

around me, and they looked up to me since I’d give them actual advice. We’re a go for tonight.  Raise a hand if you’re in. 

Smiling to myself as I saw every hand quickly raise into the air, I knew that this would be  one show that Roger or the critics in the audience would never forget. I don’t know if Roger  knew that we’d picked up on it, but there was a lot of info that he gave away. He was using us as  a launch pad for some serious acting cred, and we were using him just as much. And for weeks  of workshops and performances, we existed together, but the last month had been different. He’d  starters treating us as disposable ensemble members even if the small cast all had named roles.  So, tonight, on the most important night of his run, we decided to get back at him. Looking up at  the timer on the ceiling above us, I realized that it was almost time for our first phase of the plan. 

Act 1: 

Look at him- if he wasn’t such a huge ass, he could really be the next big thing. Sorry- all I heard you say was huge ass, and I got distracted. 

Playfully slapping Sam on the arm, I kept watching Roger act as we waited for our cue.  Our show was a new take on the classic murder mystery, and each night, Roger dramatically died  on stage. The twist, the reason that we’d made it out of workshops, was that a new killer was  chosen each show. The audience could return night after night and still get a new experience  since we improved a lot and only kept core scenes consistent.  

This was one scene that was always the same, so Roger felt confident enough to ham it up as he looked at the two women in Row 2: The New Yorker and New York Times. They of  course had names, but Roger only knew them as the critics that he needed to impress. And he  truly was acting his ass off… and that was quite a challenge. Those dark gray slacks were barely  

stretched over that ample peach of a bottom, and I was reminded again that I was happy with the  game plan. And as he placed his glass of water back on the table, it was time for round 1.  

Natasha and Joslyn entered from stage left as Sam and I appeared from stage right, and in  a flurry of motion, we began bombarding him with questions.  

Sir, would you like the dinner menu? 

Please. 

Sir, would you like a wine list? 

That’d be delightful. 

Sir, would you like your water glass to be topped off? 

Certainly. 

Bending down, I poured the contents of my pitcher into his glass and across his chest. Oh monsieur, I am so sorry- let’s get you out of those wet clothes immediately. 

Patting him down with the hand towel, Sam walked behind him and began unbuttoning  Roger’s shirt. In utter shock, Roger just sat there staring at the pitcher that I’d laid down in front  of him- the one that looked completely normal. In every other show, a special prop had been  used that only held half a cup of water, but tonight, it looked like I’d grabbed the wrong pitcher  from the props table accidentally.  

There we go- we’ll have this dried and steamed before you even get the dessert menu…  not that it looks like you eat dessert often.  

He tried to cover his exposed chest as we left stage, but the tiny menu couldn’t cover  much. If he pulled it down, he exposed his perky pecs with his dark brown nipples shining under  the harsh lights, and if he pulled it up, you could see the happy trail disappearing into his pants.  As we all stood offstage in one giggling group, we watched the switch flip over in his head. He 

had just made the choice- he could either be embarrassed about being half naked on stage, or he  could continue acting so that the critics would write about how he powered through adverse  conditions. And he chose the second option… at least for now.

Act 2: 

After improving some line about remembering that he had a spare suit in his car, he  quickly walked off stage with his muscular back facing the audience. Once he disappeared into  the curtain, he began quietly yelling for the prop master, but he was nowhere to be found. Also  gone was the random rack of clothes that had been hiding in the wings for decades, so as he  rushed around, Roger only had time to grab someone’s suit coat and walk back on stage. 

Darling! Is it my birthday already? I thought I wouldn’t get my present until tomorrow. 

With her quick change successfully completed unlike her costar, Natasha was in a skin  tight dress and now playing Roger’s girlfriend. Walking circles around him, she began to  massage his tense body, and it seemed to be having an undesired effect on his lower half.  

Can I unwrap my present early?  

I’m so sorry love, but the weirdest thing happened at dinner earlier. I had time to grab a  spot of food before coming here, and then…  

As he began to sit down, the small blazer completely ripped down the middle, and the  ruined fabric fell in two pieces down each arm. Natasha was really hamming it up now as she  jumped up from the prop bed to kneel in front of her blushing boyfriend.  

I was joking before, but what else is about to come off? Did you somehow trade outfits  with a stripper? 

That time in the gym must have really filled out my shoulders.  

Then flex for me, Romeo. Let me see that body that’s all mine.  

Doing as told, Roger stood up and began to flex his muscles as he faced the audience. His  tanned chest seemed to glow under the lights, and I heard the audience getting into it more now.  If there were any repeat customers here, then they knew what normally happened here. Natasha  would have her birthday party, and in the commotion, Roger would meet his demise. But that  always happened fully clothed. 

Roger’s biceps were glistening in sweat, and his trimmed chest hair was as well. He was  breathtakingly gorgeous, and if only he wasn’t so cocky, we would have all adored him. As I saw  that blush spread further across those beautiful cheekbones, I wondered if there was something  more human under there. Just maybe… 

Oh, I just can’t resist anymore- come ravish me!  

With strength that I didn’t know she had, Natasha pulled Roger towards her as they fell  into the throes of passion on top of that bed. The audience was losing it as Natasha’s legs  comically kicked into the air before wrapping around Roger’s ample ass. She was kissing him all  over as Roger tried to break free for his cue. 

Oh honey, that special suit jacket wasn’t the only birthday surprise that I had planned. In  fact…

And this is where everything went so, so right. Roger lunged into a standing position  without even feeling Natasha’s fingers hook into the two small holes that had come undone on  each side of his tearaway pants. I don’t know how he hadn’t noticed earlier that we’d swapped them out before the show, but they’d stayed together right until they were needed.  

In comical slow motion, the back half of his pants fell to the floor as the front stayed  gripped in her hands.  

You got me exactly what I wanted! 

As Natasha jumped to meet him, we all started streaming on stage, holding balloons and  shooting party streamers into the air. The only one that was still was Roger who was somehow so  very, very visible in the middle of all of this chaos. With his pants gone, he was now standing  there in only his shoes, his nylon socks held up with leather garters on those strong calves, and  an impossibly tiny pair of baby blue bikini briefs that were trying their hardest to stretch over his  large frame.  

We all took a cue from the audience and focused on Roger as he stood petrified on stage.  His hands hung limply at his side, too embarrassed to even move them to cover up his impressive  bulge and thick pubes that were showing over the stretched waistband. You could have heard a  pin drop in the eerie quiet before one camera flash went off from the audience followed by  several more. I saw our one underpaid usher try to stop the cameras, but it was too late.  

Finally urged into action as he saw how many photos of him would soon end up online,  Roger finally spun around to try to find his pants, his jacket- just anything to cover himself up  with. Seeing the bed sheet that had been flung into the floor, he reached to grab it, but I was too  quick and stepped onto it to keep him from getting it.  

Standing back up, he had rage in his eyes as he looked at me, and he had no idea that  even more photos were taken now of him. From the back, his tiny briefs had been wedged  between those glorious cheeks, and he was exposing almost every inch of skin that he could.  

It was you- you’re the one that did it! 

He was about five minutes early with that line, but Roger’s embarrassment had finally  taken over his need to impress the critics. That was usually what he said when he discovered who  the killer was right before falling to the ground, but now, he was saying it to me even though  Joslyn was the one who’d dropped the ‘poison’ into his pasta in the previous scene.  

What are you talking about? It’s me- your best friend! 

A best friend wouldn’t do this on the most important night of their life! 

Reaching forward, he grabbed onto my shirt and yanked it apart. Buttons went flying as  my own chest was exposed to the crowd. My mouth was trying to hard not to break into a smirk  behind my trimmed salt and pepper beard as I backed away from Roger. Following me back  under the lights, he just kept going. 

You’ve always been jealous of me- my career, my body, everything! Do you know how  hard I’ve fought for this? Do you?  

He truly believed the words that he was saying even though he’d never had to go to an  open casting call in a crowded building downtown. He’d never had to squeeze into a borrowed  pair of LaDucas and dance for hours just to be told that they’d gone in a different direction. Oh  no, Roger had never felt rejection like that which is what would make what happened next even  sweeter.  

He lunged at me, and we fell in a heap on the floor. The audience, even the return  viewers, probably had no idea that anything had gone wrong. Everything we’d done had been in  character, and only one thing would be able to prove to them that this show had gone off the  rails.  

Roger’s body was gyrating around on top of me, but he never landed a punch. He wasn’t  angry enough for that, but he was too flustered to even know what to do. He couldn’t handle this  humiliation, and he was just lashing out. And then, it all stopped. As we tussled, we both heard  the pop and froze. It could have been anything, but we both knew exactly what it was. 

The Final Bow: 

And the award goes to Roger Stilton! 

The cameras all swung towards him as he tried to duck down into his seat. This is not  how he wanted awards season to go. He had just lost the Best Actor award for his starring role in  Thoroughly Modern Millie, and he was about to go to the bar until he heard his name called  again. Looking up at the big screen, he saw the category that he didn’t even know that he was  nominated for- Best Quick Change.  

With the DramaDesk award in hand, the late-night talk show host who had no business  being here walked on stage. I was sitting on the side in the cheap seats, but I could still see  everything. The last time that I’d seen Roger was when I’d been lying shirtless beneath him. I  watched as he sat motionless in his chair, and he only got up once the screen started playing a  video from that night.  

He was kneeling on top of me, and as we wrestled, the tiny strap on the right side of his bikini briefs popped right off. With his ass aimed right towards the camera, his pendulous cock  fell into view between his legs, and he tried to cover himself unsuccessfully with his hands. As  he moved, the rest of his underwear fell apart and landed on my chest leaving him completely  

naked.  

Standing up, he kept spinning around, turning one way and then the other to hide his  embarrassment. His hands were clasped over his manhood which left that ass completely  exposed. His tight waist made his bubble butt even more impressive, and the untanned skin acted  as a beacon for everyone’s eyes and cameras. I’d watched this scene dozens of times from the  comfort of my own apartment, but as Roger walked on stage to confront the host, I realized that  he probably had tried to forget this ever happened.  

When Audra Macdonald won earlier, she serenaded us with a few bars. Roger, what do  you plan on showing off to this crowd? 

The crowd was going wild, but unlike that fateful night, the crowd was over five times  bigger and full of people that Roger wanted to impress. He tried to put on a fake laugh and grab  the award, but even from this far away, I could see how strong that blush was as the host kept  going.  

No seriously, I think we need you to show it off! What does everyone here think?  

I let my cheer join the crowd as we egged him on, but he still wasn’t budging. And then,  the host looked right at me, and I pinched myself to see if this was all a dream.  

Do we need your old costar to come help out? He knows his way around this stage since  he’s performed here a few times. Come on up! 

The spotlight hit me, and now it was my time to feel a little shy. I’d been a background  dancer here in a few awards show opening numbers, but I’d never been up there individually.  Would my big break come decades later than it should have? 

Stepping on stage, I saw Roger’s heart drop, and my nerves suddenly vanished. He let the  host turn him around, and I realized that he was petrified again.  

Make me change my mind, Roger. Why shouldn’t I expose you again for how you treated  us on that show? 

Tommy, please, don’t do it.  

I could have been nice and joked around with him as we walked offstage to pretend like  this was a planned bit. But, he messed up.  

Roger, you didn’t even learn the names of your costars. My name is David- Tommy  worked the sound board.  

And before he could react, I grabbed onto those tuxedo pants and yanked them to the  ground. The button ripped off easily, and they gave me no resistance before sliding down to his  ankles. He’d learned his lesson from earlier and was wearing a pair of black trunks, but I still had  a little bit of humiliation left to give him. I could and should have stopped there, but I didn’t.  Grabbing onto his waistband, I pulled his undies to the floor and stepped back to let him have the  spotlight all to himself like he desperately wanted.  

His half-naked body was projected onto the big screen again but in real time now. His  ample, untanned ass still jutted out from his athletic body, and as he tried to bend down and grab  his pants, it jiggled with every movement.  

Looking down into the audience, I somehow made eye contact with Jan, the critic that  Roger always referred to as The New Yorker sitting not too far from where I’d been seated. As  she began typing onto her phone, I realized that Roger would get that big headline after all.

[other-cullen-ficrecs]

MLM!Cullen Fic Rec List

Inspired by this post. Here is my fic rec list of some of my favorite fics with queer Cullen. Happy Pride :)  🏳️‍🌈 🏳️‍🌈 🏳️‍🌈

Cullen/Dorian

Only True in Fairy Tales by Dragonflies_and_Katydids

Summary:  In which Dorian is a special forces operative, Bull is his partner, and Cullen is the guy they're sent to rescue. Hijinks ensue. // Words: 110150

Modern AU. Dragonflies_and_Katydids makes me read the weirdest stuff. But their work is always captivating. The more ridiculous set up the better outcome, I promise. This one is both ridiculous and absolutely perfect. And somehow one of the very few modern au fics in which Cullen's lyrium addiction is well transfered without making it literal.

Fashionably Late by tsurai

For the tumblr prompt: Cullen/Dorian Soulmates AU? <3 "Maker’s breath, this is absolutely the worst timing, he thinks distantly." // Words: 1038

This is but a tiny thing but I'm a sucker for a soulmate AU. Would I love it more if it was 150,000 words? Yes. But I'm just greedy.

COLD HANDS, WARM HEART by spicyshimmy, stonelions

Summary: Cullen and Dorian's friendship deepens. Cullen is a romantic. Dorian is literally cold. Cullen is no longer certain what he would consider surprising. Mages and Templars working in perfect cooperation, perhaps. Evil and corruption disappearing into the ground along with the blight, blood magic falling so far out of favor it ceased to be. A united Thedas: that would be a surprise. // Words: 25369

I think this is most recced Cullrian fic and for a good reason. Slow burn, drama, all the delights. 

Light In This Darken'd Time Breaks by RamonaDecember

Summary: Cullen wouldn't say he hates mages, not anymore, but he can't see himself ever trusting one again. Dorian is no exception. The mage is off-color, self-important, and all together too much for Cullen to deal with. So why is it that every time Cullen is at his lowest, Dorian seems to be the only person by his side? // Words: 121289

Slow burn with 121289 words, what more do you want?

Cullen/Bull

Jump In by Dragonflies_and_Katydids

Summary: In which Cullen is almost terminally awkward, Bull and Dorian are literally brothers (because why not?), and Bull tries really hard to be good. Or: In which Dorian tries to set up his brother and his roommate, if he can avoid killing them for being so clueless. (You might get cavities from reading it. Don't say I didn't warn you.) // Words: 33700

What did I say about Dragonflies_and_Katydids and ridiculous premises? But if you're as delighted with awkward Cullen as am I - enjoy.

Dragons from Stars in an Empty Sky by Midna_Ronoa

Summary: The one in which Bull takes Cullen dragon-hunting. // Words: 10423

Fluff and smut and dragons!

Stuck on the Puzzle by thespectaclesofthor

Summary: Once, back in Kirkwall, Cullen had an arrangement with a member of the city guard that satisfied his needs. But time changed all things, and he despaired of ever finding a similar arrangement again - that was, until he met The Iron Bull. Problem being that Bull seemed to care far more about sorting out the nitty-gritty of such an arrangement than Cullen ever has. // Words: 235586

No fic rec lists that can involve Bullen canot do without Stuck on the Puzzle. If you haven't read it - please give it a try. As far as I'm concerned - the best fic in the fandom. And definately one of the best fics in general. <3

Cullen/Dorian/Bull

Exit Light by Dragonflies_and_Katydids

Summary: In which Cullen is suicidally depressed, Dorian is a high-functioning alcoholic, and Bull just wants them both to be happy, except when he wants to crack their heads together for being emotionally stunted idiots. // Words: 77427

This premise is actually very close to canon, compared to some other stories by the same author recced here. The angst? Delightful. The smut? Delicious. The exploration of issues? Delectable! Cheff kisses all around.

to burn cool and collected by toomanyhometowns

Summary: Dorian hums. "Here is the function of the spell: Upon invocationne, ye caster's spyryt shal sterte to ye form of whomsoever mofte recently achieved releafe by hys hande." He taps the page in punctuation and looks back up. "And then there's a lot of text about the vast joys we may experience together, et cetera, et cetera." // Words: 16121

Ok, this list shows more than anything that my main delight is issues and angst wrapped in with porn. Anyway - cracky premise (body swap!), and angsty, sexy outcome.

Hold by queeniegalore

Summary: Everyone knows Cullen doesn't trust magic. But he trusts Dorian and Bull, so maybe they can make this work. // Words: 6654

Issues? Trauma? Kink? I'm a one trick pony when it comes to recs.

Cullen/Cole

Okay now that we’ve gotten the obvious out, let’s enjoy the trully unexpected enjoyment.

Into The Light (Cole/Cullen Ficlets) by Sinister_Kid

Summary: A series of what I hope are tasteful Cole/Cullen fics that don't exploit or overly sexualize Cole's developing character. Based on a prompt I filled out of boredom in which I imagined the spirit actually hearing someone's pain like a physical noise in his ears that caused discomfort. Explores the option of making Cole more human, with my own original take on how that affects him as a character, and depicts Cole developing romantic feelings for the Commander as he discovers what it means to be human. // Words: 20454

I admit I don't often read Cole shippy fics but this one stays true to the info in the summary and it is careful and tasteful. Also Cullen learning to speak with Cole properly - <333

Cullen/Varric

Verse & Volley Triptych by boycoffin

Summary: POSSIBLE TITLES: This Shit Was Even Weirder: A Surprisingly Not-Doomed Romance In The Shadow of the Apocalypse The Commander and the Rogue already taken, Antivan maritime smut with an elf girl in it How The Hell I Ended Up With That Guy: A Tale for The People Who Keep Asking Me About It In Bars The Short and Curlies that's just terrible Love Among the tropey garbage A Tale of Two Names pretentious and unclear The Penman's Paramour Memoirs of a Moron (That He's Going to Regret Publishing and Will Never Hear The End Of for As Long As He Lives) // Words: 133354

One of the very few fics in which I can not only accept but love 1st person POV. Crack. Slow-burn. Pennames. Lovable OCs. DELICIOUS. Also a fic that made me start this blog, so love all around.

Cullen/Krem

Last but not least, my delightful fave (maybe, possibly, probably) and involving a shameless self-plug because it’s the month of pride.

Swordplay by orphan_account

Summary: The Bull's Chargers are undisciplined, untested, and unprofessional; but Cullen can't stop thinking about their lieutenant. // Words: 3910

I have a soft spot for whoever Krem being shipped with not knowing he's trans at first. But also oblivious, pining Cullen <3

If you have been starving, a creature of bone by missivesfromghosts

Summary: Cullen is content with where he is. He has a life and a purpose. He’s doing the Maker’s work and he’s cut the Chantry’s leash on him. He barely thinks about the fact that he’s trans anymore. The last person who knew he was born anything different, barring his sister Mia, died during the Blight. This works for him. That is, until he starts falling for Krem. // Words: 769

A tiny thing but I have a soft spot for the idea. Also what's better than a ship with trans character? A ship with two trans characters. Keep that in mind for further recs actually.

Sweet, Merciful Andraste by Tainaron

Summary: PWP. Honestly, Cullen should invest in walls and a ceiling that don't have holes if he's going to keep having such loud sex. Pure, unapologetic smut between trans men who love each other. // Words: 4187

¯\_(ツ)_/¯  What more do you want from me? Sometimes porn is just porn. Enjoy.

Champions of the Just by Tainaron

Summary: En route to Griffin Wing Keep before the battle of Adamant, Cullen falls prey to an injury that reveals a shameful secret about his trauma with magic. As Cullen struggles with his past, his duty to the Inquisition, and his love life, he becomes increasingly uncertain if he’s the target of an assassination attempt or just his own personal demons. // Words: 67885

Well, I also have some plottier and angstier fics in my rec disposal. This one actually explores the problems Krem and Cullen could encounter in their relationship and all within the canon plot line. Plus bonus points of Cullen actually interacting with other Chargers.

cabbage: a love story by psikeval

Summary: Krem’s grin fades into a quiet smirk, his eyes warm and amused, and Cullen does not forget how to move his legs because he is a grown man, a leader of soldiers, commander of the Inquisition’s army. He breaks the silence by coughing loudly, because he is also an imbecile. // Words: 18932

Creme de la creme of Krem/Cullen fics <3 Fluff, crack, porn <3 This delightful series has it all! 

[timextoxhajima]

Love Me A Little Less: Chapter 2 - Auction

LOVE ME A LITTLE LESS CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Member: (3rd person pov) arranged marriage au with Lee Juyeon

Genre: angsty wangsty

Taglist: @hyunvelies​ 

“You no longer own me.”

The guppies in the tank that spans nearly half the space of the wall flush around, their brightly colored and flared tails gently wading in the water. Juyeon gently taps on the glass, the yellow guppy swimming towards him instead of away. The shelves are stacked with books on marine life and nature, posters of the Northern Lights dawn the walls if they weren’t covered in the latest Apple commercial poster. 

He hears the hurried footsteps before he hears his assistant, who is huffing by the time she’s at the door of his office. “Anything urgent, Miss Young? Forgive me if I imagined I told you that I would be unavailable until after lunch.”

“Sir, I think you should see the news. I know why your parents aren’t in office today.”

“What?” Juyeon finally pulls away from the tank, worried eyes scanning his assistant. She’s well-dressed, has short hair and ruby cheeks. She looks like she belongs in high school. “Anything serious happen? An accident?”

“Um, no, it’s just--”

Ring ring

Lee Juyeon turns to the phone set on his table, then side-eyes Young Jin Seol, feet turning toward the device. 

“No, sir! Wait, before you--”

“Hello?”

“Good morning, Mr Lee. We’re calling from The Board to request your availability tonight for a press conference regarding today’s updates.”

Juyeon scoffs gently, standing straight up and resting a hand on his hip. He turns to look at Jin Seol, eyes filled with caution, as if they meant to say I told you not to pick it up.

“I’m sorry but... what updates?”

“The change in ownership of HERA & ARTEMIS and the marriage.”

There’s a brooding uneasiness in his gut as he processes the heavy word. In the world of corporate under The Board, the word ‘marriage’ is nothing but a contract.

“Remind me who this concerns?”

“You, sir. The marriage between you and Kim Jang Won. The Board would like your presence during a press conference to address the marriage as well as the following change in ownership of HERA & ARTEMIS.”

It’s like Medusa has just stared him straight in the eye, for Juyeon fails to respond in any way possible. 

“Uh... sir? Hello? Mr Lee Juyeon?”

Jin Seol rushes over, able to hear the voice on the other end calling out to him. She grabs the phone and presses it to her ear, eyes plastered to Juyeon, whose lips seemed to be whitening. “Hi, this is Young Jin Seol, Mr Lee’s assistant. He’s not feeling very well now, so I’ll get him to give you a call later regarding the press conference, if that’s alright.”

“Oh, um, of course. But we’d like to have details settled by 1pm later, Miss Young. If it’s not too troubling to relay the message to Mr Lee.”

“Rest assured, he’ll...” Jin Seol watches Juyeon trudge to the couches sitting before the tank, sinking into the soft cushion and pressing his fingers into his closed lids. “I’ll make sure he gets back to you by then.”

Juyeon can feel the skin on his chest stretch when he sucks in a deep breath. The nonsensical thoughts start to crowd his head in the most logical way possible, if that was even possible. Luckily, the only thing he could hear was the bubbling of the oxygen pump in the tank.

He hears Jin Seol return the phone back into the phone set before he finally opens his eyes, vision a little blurred from the pressure of his fingers. 

“I could schedule them in straight away but I have a feeling you’d want to talk to your parents first, Mr Lee.”

Juyeon brings his palms down to his nose and mouth, lips perpendicular to his index finger and his thumbs under his chin as he focuses on the table before him. The white tulips in the vase have already started to brown. 

“Schedule them for lunch at 11 and I’d like to be left alone from 12.30 to 1. I’ll call The Board myself afterwards,” Juyeon notes the coldness in his voice, an element he doesn’t even recognise much. “My parents and I have alot to talk about.”

The Director of Chang’s Funeral Services personally flips open the file, turning it and sliding it across the table to the siblings sitting opposite them. Mr Chang would’ve shat himself if Kim Jang Won had come alone - she doesn’t have the title ‘Hera’s Princess’ for nothing. It’s a good thing ‘The Prince of Artemis’ had come with her. But maybe that’s just it, isn’t it? 

What if he pulled out a gun and shot me right now?

Younghoon’s eyes conscientiously process the printed words on the document, his sister a little too over the edge to be paying attention to anything. 

“We-- Um, carried out an investigation and realised that the bodies were... well... mismatched.”

Younghoon listens, but his gaze is still on the carbon print. The file was labelled KIM JO-PIL but the papers in the folder belonged to someone else. Someone else’s body. A common city address. 

“Have you excavated the body?”

“In progress, Mr Kim. They should be calling any time now for after identification.”

“I don’t suppose you have the documents for Kim Jo-Pil? The ones that were supposed to be in this folder?”

“The thing is... I remember seeing the documents. My colleagues have too. The people in charge of your father’s burial saw it too. But... if it’s not in this office then frankly, I’ve got no clue where it would be.”

For the first time in 3 hours, Jang Won actually looks somewhat understanding, sympathetic, empathetic. Younghoon shuts the file and slides it over to Jang Won when she sits up in her seat. 

“If you don’t mind, we’ll take the file and contact the deceased’s family. When’s that body identification phone call coming in?” Then the 3-hour streak is lost, and Younghoon sighs exasperatedly, out of her peripheral vision. “Taking mighty long for a simply body identification, no?”

Flustered, Mr Chang fumbles for the phone set sitting in the corner of his desk, hurriedly dialing a number. 

“Where do you think he ran to for 2 years?” Jang Won squints at the deceased’s information. “Why 2 years?”

Younghoon runs a hand through his hair, probably worth about half a million Korean Won. “You ask me as if I know any more than you do.”

Mr Chang is finally talking to someone. Jang Won’s focus fixates on something familiar at the bottom of the page. 

“That’s because maybe you do,” Lifting the file, she points to the bottommost section.

LAST OCCUPATION: 

PHOTOGRAPHER FOR ARTEMIS ENTERTAINMENT GROUP

“It’s your company and subsidiary. I’m surprised you don’t recognise the name.”

“I might own Artemis but I don’t personally know all 278 employees. If he’s a photographer and I don’t recognise him, that means he’s in another department. Women, or children or product. I’m only listed as a model under the ‘Males’ department.”

There’s a silence in the air that allowed Younghoon to hear the gears churning in Jang Won’s head. The appearance of Kim Jo-Pil, 2 years after his supposed death, has just dragged both his children and everybody else related into a mess of a puzzle. But Younghoon has no doubt his sister can find all the pieces, much less draw the connections. 

There’s a reason why she could build HERA & ARTEMIS from the ground up.

Mr Chang finally hangs up, sighing heavily as he looks at the powerful siblings over the rim of his glasses. “They’ve confirmed. The body in the coffin you saw your father in belongs to the man in the document.”

Younghoon chortles in disbelief. “Right then. So our father did die, but someone managed to swap the bodies before it was lowered, and then proceeded to keep him alive for the next 2 years.”

Jang Won flips and finds a portrait of the dead man. “Question is... who?”

Younghoon stands up first, thanking Mr Chang and tapping Jang Won as he turns for the exit of the office. The Director doesn’t even get a chance to bid his goodbye when Jang Won leaves, behind Younghoon. 

Escorted by four bodyguards, the siblings walk side by side with her heels clicking against the floor. Upon reaching the first floor, the lift doors ding open into an array of reporters hustling outside the entrance. 

“Get them out of my face before I ruin their lives!”

The guards rush before them, hurriedly trying to disperse the crowd. Jang Won pulls out her sunglasses, covering her eyes. 

“Time-wasting assholes.”

The shouted questions are loud and intrusive. The short distance of a few tens of metres feel like a mile from all the shoving and yelling. The flashes refuse to cease, but they’ve been in the spotlight for so long, it just gets annoying. 

BREAKING: KIM YOUNGHOON AND KIM JANG WON SPOTTED AT CHANG’S FUNERAL SERVICES - KIM JO-PIL CONFIRMED TO HAVE BEEN SWAPPED OUT BEFORE BURIAL TWO YEARS AGO

Juyeon turns into the private room the restaurant manager has led him to, leaving him at the door whilst his parents gawk at the headlines blasting on the screen mounted to the wall. There’s a picture of Kim Jang Won and her brother getting into a car right below the headlines. 

“Quite a mess, isn’t it?”

Both of them whip around to see the young man standing by the door, pushing himself off the frame and strutting into the private room. The whole fit he was wearing could buy a short vacation. His father reaches for the remote and shuts off the television. 

“I expect nothing less from Kim Jo-Pil, given the history of HERA & ARTEMIS. It was just a matter of time before his daughter took over and turned it into a multi-billion name,” His mother sings, fingers around the base of a glass of wine and carefully swirling the blood-red liquid. 

Juyeon sits, and a waiter comes by to fill his glass with wine. The gentle whir of the air-conditioning in the room is the only source of noise, other than the waiter taking his leave. Juyeon picks up the glass, raising a brow as he brings it to his lips. “I expect nothing less from my own parents when they are about to put me up for a certain type of contract,” He pauses, the glass in mid-air. “Say... a marriage.”

His lips meet the curve of the glass and he takes a sip. 

“We wanted to tell you before we agreed, but--”

“But the money’s more worth?” He winces from the alcohol in the wine, frowning and offering a sarcastic purse of his lips. “I can imagine. All that stuff you have at home... you know, grand piano worth five million, a kitchen big enough for a herd of horses-- oh, not to mention the actual stable of horses... Yeah, I guess... I guess I could empathise with how you needed more than those. Planning a re-deco? I might know some great architects.”

“Juyeon...”

“No, no,” Placing down the glass, he waves his hand. “Let me put things into perspective for you. After all, gotta make the homework I did on my way here worth it right? See if it’s correct.” 

Juyeon clears his throat and cracks his knuckles, knowing that his parents are offering him the most miserable looks they’ve ever given him in his life. 

“The Board announces Kim Jo-Pil’s return. HERA & ARTEMIS goes back under his belt, leaving Kim Jang Won, current owner and might I say, the very reason why HERA & ARTEMIS is as good as it is today, jobless and absolutely helpless in a ditch. The Board then passes a rule, one which I have never heard before in my life, maybe because it’s never happened before, but... in order for Kim Jang Won to re-obtain some kind of ownership or at least some part of HERA & ARTEMIS, she must marry a name attached to The Board. And the two of you, seeing how rich and successful Kim Jang Won has made HERA & ARTEMIS, snatched the offer up first and put me on the stage... for auction.”

“Auction...!”

“Correct me, will you? Because that’s exactly what I think you did. What, becoming the next director of Apple-Korea isn’t enough for you? Owning the Korean branch of one of the largest tech companies in the world isn’t enough-- you must have a fashion-retail company?!”

The entire room falls into heavy silence. The waiters knock before entering with some seafood appetizer. Juyeon sucks his lips between his teeth, nibbling anxiously on his bottom one. 

“Juyeon...” His father waits for the waiter to leave. “We... we just wanted the best for you. You know how powerful the Kim family is. Any remote connection to them will do us good. It’ll do you good.”

He scoffs and rubs his forehead with his index and middle finger. “I really have no clue what’s going on in those heads of yours sometimes.”

“I don’t know why you’re so against this, Juyeon. It’ll be helpful to you in your future!”

“As opposed to what? Wanting to be a marine biologist? Wanting to study the waters and nature? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

Thinking that his father would hush his mother, Juyeon is surprised when he doesn’t. 

“Wow, really? Nothing?”

Silence. 

His mother picks up a fork.

“Very nice to know that you’re treating me like a piece of property instead of your son.”

Juyeon pulls the napkin off his lap and stands. 

“Oh, and uh... Don’t wait for a wedding invitation. You’re not getting one.”

“Juyeon!” His parents collectively exclaim in disdain, eyes widening as he struts towards the exit and out of the room.

“What? You auctioned me off! You no longer own me, right?!” 

Juyeon huffs angrily, hands running through his hair and ruining his own efforts of waxing his hair. He enters the lift, multiple staff members looking at him stride into the metallic box, confused. His fingers search for his phone in the pocket of his blazer, the device buzzing non-stop from the headlines and messages and emails from broadcasting companies and companies he couldn’t give two shits about. 

But when the lift doors open and he sees the  Kim Jang Won standing right outside with the same suit and sunglasses he had previously seen her on TV with, his eyes widen with a mix of surprise and distaste. 

“Well, if it isn’t Kim Jang Won... or might I say, my fiancé?”

“My dad couldn’t have done this on his own. I have a theory, and multiple plans to fix this mess of a shitshow, so I’m here to figure out if you wanna be in on it.”

Juyeon scoffs and shoves his hands into his pockets, stepping out of the lift and staring down straight at her. He attempts to search for her eyes through the chocolate-brown shade of her sunglasses, but fails. 

A tiny smirk crawls unto her lips as she pulls it off, her bright, sparkling, manipulative eyes ignite some flame in Juyeon. 

Because that’s just how smart and cunning Kim Jang Won is.

“I know you don’t give a shit, Lee Juyeon. About The Board, about the marriage, about Apple.”

He chuckles, teeth wiping his canine teeth as he pulls his shoulders back. “So you Googled me. Should I be impressed?”

Then his phone buzzes and he pulls it out in a bid to display some kind of disinterest. 

Young Jin Seol [12.13pm]: The tulips are here! [photo]

He blinks, eyes travelling from the screen to the most powerful figure of his generation under The Board.

“If I could find this out from Google, I think you should revisit your privacy logistics,” Kim Jang Won squints one eye and raises her brow. “I’m not here to confuse you or piss you off, Lee Juyeon. I’m here with an offer, to save both our asses. I want HERA & ARTEMIS back but I cannot do it if I have no link to it.”

“What’s in it for me then? It’s not like you can buy me a degree in marine biology.”

“I can’t but you could have the freedom to do so. I’ll pay for you to start your own company. Whoever said you needed a degree to do what you wanted to do? In this world... all you need is money and a little bit of brain... but!” She points to him her sunglasses. “You don’t have to worry about either because I’ve got that covered. All I need you to do is get down on one knee -- willingly -- for the whole world to see... and I’ll give you your freedom.”

Juyeon sucks in a deep breath so hard that he wheezes and Kim Jang Won could not be any more satisfied with herself. 

[gamebunny-advance]

@Civilian AU!Anon

Here's Kayane of the Civilian AU! 

Aw, she’s pretty cute! I like the Miku-style detached sleeves, they’re a cute reference, and the emphasis on the Sakura blossom motif is cute too. I really like the transparent layer on her skirt! I’m a little curious to see how the “black light” phase is going to work since she’s already starting with dark colors. Maybe she becomes a blinding light, lol.

I also like the variations on the teams’ symbols/colors, so they’re still parallels, but still unique for the swaps. Very nice!

More thoughts under the cut since they got too long for the tags and I have some visual aids this time.

I knew that she’d be a mermaid from the silhouettes you sent in, but it’d also be cool to see a non-mermaid Kayane.

Fun Fact: Some of Sayu’s original concepts had her as a bunny themed idol. You can see some of this concept art on the wall during Sayu’s defeat cutscene.

I think that mixing themes can work, but I’m having a hard time following the through line between “Sakura” and “mermaid.” The through line for Sakura seems to be the Japanese pop idol influences. As mentioned before, there are clearly Miku influences in the design and Sakura are associated with Japan first and foremost. And that’s all fine, I think that isolated, all those themes could make a very cute character design.

I guess what’s throwing me off is that *neither Kayane or Sayu are associated with Sakura, so the addition of it makes me want to see an even greater emphasis on it rather than it just be an “icon” on her outfit.

I think I’ve said this before, but when it comes to AUs, I like to see a focus on what makes the AU different from the original, so since the Sakura theme is unique, I would love to see it get pushed further.

I want to see “Kayane if she was a virtual idol like Sayu.” more than, “Kayane if she was Sayu.” I know those statements sound very similar, but there’s nuance that makes them different. The former is a deconstruction and reconstruction of the pieces of each character, and the latter is a fusion of both wholes. Neither is necessarily better than the other, and they both have their places and uses, but I have a preference for the former most of the time.

As a personal example, let’s look at my recent Kun3h0 x 1010 swaps.

I would say that the first pass is closer is a “fusion” because it takes White and puts him Kun3h0′s outfit, just in his theme colors. There are some elements that changed to fit him: the belt accessory now resembles NJ’s screen instead of a rabbit, the heart motif was swapped for a star (I associate White with stars, but that isn’t a canon element), and the design on the boots changed from the speakers to more resemble the original pattern on the 1010s legs. And besides the outfit, there were some elements that were added/changed to keep Kun3h0′s elements from being completely erased: the skin turned pink because Kun3h0 has a human skin tone (and pink is a normal skin tone in the NSR universe) and his irises had to change from white to purple because the sclera aren’t black anymore.

The second pass first asks these questions: What makes a Kun3h0 unit a Kun3h0, and a 1010 a 1010? I decided that the most important parts of Kun3h0 were the rabbit-ear headphones, the boots, and the gloves, so those were going to stay no matter what. Instead of keeping the strict construction of the outfit, I kept the silhouette mostly the same. So he still has the crop top, the shorts, and the sleeves still taper outwards, but the design of the top was changed to be more sailor themed because a key-part of 1010s characterization is the sailor motif. To add onto that, a sailor hat was added to really push the sailor elements since a lot of the other iconography was dropped. The outfit colors were also kept monochrome and black was used in more places to better replicate the 1010′s original uniform.

To me, the fusion reads more as, “White in Kun3h0′s outfit.” while the deconstruction-reconstruction reads more as, “White if he were in the same series of robots as Kun3h0.” I don’t think either is significantly better or worse than the other, but there were different thought processes for both which came to different conclusions for the prompt, “Kun3h0 x 1010 swap”.

I hope that this explains and illustrates what I’m trying to get at.

I know that it would be kinda difficult to really “deconstruct” Kayane because her entire role/design revolves around her relation to 1010, so in an AU where she has nothing to do with them, it makes it a little harder to visually emphasize the things that originally characterized her. However, that being the case means that there’s actually more room to focus on new visual motifs like the Sakura to really make the design your own. You did it with Daphne & Jan with their new underwater motif, so I think you can do it here too.

Again, I really like the direction these are going, but I just know that they can be pushed so much further.

But I don’t always give the best advice, XP. They say that you know you have a good design not when you can’t add anymore, but when you can’t take anything else away, so me asking you to “push” the designs further might not be the best advice and shouldn’t be taken as an absolute. I can only tell ya what I want to see, not necessarily what’s the best choice.

*Strictly speaking, there is a canon flower!Sayu that appears on a poster in the Akasuka district. I find the design itself kinda underwhelming for a themed alt, (it’s no all pink Sakura!Miku), but I know it wasn’t made to stand out on its own: its function is to be a cute themed variation of the character, not totally reinvent her. It’s literally a little poster on the side of a wall that not everyone is even going to take the time to investigate, so I understand not wanting to spend too much time designing a more grandiose flower themed Sayu.

[wouldpollyapprove]

A Girl That Wasn’t Meant To Love

Request: can you do a tommy x reader based on the song hell on high heels by motley crue

Requested by @magnificentzombiebasement

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Language, alcohol, prostitution

A/n: I had a completely different idea for how I wanted to write this and what I ended up actually writing is more of like a prologue. If you guys like this, I may write a second part, but it’s not a priority at the moment. I also want you guys to know that I gave up editing this halfway through b/c it’s hella long and I’m lazy. So, that’s the reason things may be spelled wrong or not make sense at all.

Masterlist

“There’s no shame in this life,” she’d been told before. It was by an old woman, one stuck in her place at one time in her life. “There is no shame in doing what must be done to survive.” Head held high, that’s what Y/n lived by. Ugly truths and monstrous men, she saw nothing but the end of the line. Every night was touch or go, wondering if she would have enough money to make it to the next. But with each rising sun, she grew stronger and the money in her pockets started to bulge.

There was no shame in what she did if it led to her survival.

Y/n never liked the only word ever used to describe women like her: “prostitute”. The word, unclean, allowed men to shove her face in the mud. Women, who never had to do a days work on their back to pay the bills, would spit at her, curses, even words sailors wouldn’t utter, leaving their porcelain lips. They didn’t see the pot of gold they had stumbled upon, all that they had that was out of reach from other’s. They were selfish in believing that some people had a choice in what had to be done to put food on the table.

It had always been a struggle to come by much of anything. Y/n grew up in a village in France that knew everything but wealth. People made enough to live, but never leave. War was the only thing that ever allowed boys and girls alike to wave at the village behind them. Most never returned, but there were always more to replace those in the ground. Producing like rabbits, there was no such thing as plentiful. Skin and bones, they all worked day and night to live for another hour, but it was never enough for Y/n. 

Tough as nails, she was tired of living from meal to meal. Wishing for the world, she wasn’t like her mother or sisters, who dreamed of getting by, she wanted to take what was her’s. And so, with what little she had, she fled to Paris. It took days, different strangers pitying her state, the dirt stained clothes and tangled hair, but eventually she reached the golden city.

There, she could find little work with the skill set she’d acquired as a child. Laborers weren’t meant to walk the streets of the capital, they were meant for the tiny villages that she came from. And so, another line of work had to be found and that is when the woman who ran Le Sphinx pulled her inside. Knowing nothing of prostitution, Y/n was forced to quickly learn, being educated in both the desires of men and etiquette. 

Once ready and thrown to the lions, she did whatever she could to stay above the sharp, white teeth. At first, there were many nights with tears streaming down her cheeks and the thought of home forever circling around her mind. It was hard to adapt to something she’d known nothing about. Even harder when she was merely competition to the other girls. No one would extend a hand, wipe the tears off her stained cheeks and tell her that it would get better. The girls at the brothel were worse than the ones Y/n encountered on the street. They did anything to start a fight and were worse than thieves. If you valued anything, it wasn’t to be kept in plain sight. It was a war zone one no man would ever have to face.

But before Y/n knew it, she was on top, the woman all the business men and visiting royals wanted to spend the evening with. It wasn’t bad to be sitting in the lap of a Norwegian royal, not once you were aware of how much their hat alone cost. Drowning in riches, this was close enough to the life she wanted. With all the money given to her by the men that believed they were her only loves, she packed her bags and moved to London. 

That was where the rich became even richer and where our story starts.

Settling into her London home, Y/n decided she would rather spend her days doing anything but lying on her back. There were some clients, wealthy ones, that she’d see occasionally, but she wanted to make money in other ways. And with all that she had saved up, she did just that by purchasing a dress shop. It was the perfect quaint life that she had been looking for all along and it was finally her’s. Most of her days were spent hiring seamstresses or going over new fabrics, Y/n wanted women to flock from all over the country to buy her dresses and she would do anything to achieve that.

But like everyone, she got bored. 

Wanting more than to roam the streets of London, she decided to put one of her best workers in charge and run around the English countryside. While on her little holiday, Y/n stopped in Birmingham. Meant to be the manufacturing capital of the country, it didn’t try to hide that fact. But she loved it. The dirt and grime, the sweat that covered the brow. She was raised just as they were, work until the day was done. The broken backs and accidental deaths were something she was all too familiar with. 

These people were her people.

Taking in the city around her, Y/n wandered into a pub near a few factories. Whether it was accepted for women to venture out on their own in this city or not, she didn’t care. A mediocre whiskey sour was all she was asking for. Pushing the doors open, gold details ran along the wall as the sun peeked through stained glass windows. For a pub on the wrong side of town, London was all that crossed her mind. There were many pubs in the capital that held themselves like the one she stood in. Shaking off her shock, Y/n took a seat at one of the bar stools, sinking into its cushion. 

“What can I get you?” the barmaid with eyes that dripped of honey and charcoal curls asked her.

“How about a whiskey sour?” she smiled at the girl. She looked to be no more than eighteen, what an age to be. By the time Y/n was that age, she was already in Paris, doing the job few women willing accepted. The girl nodded, curls bouncing around her chiseled face, before fetching the ingredients needed.

Y/n leaned back in her chair and began to search her purse for a cigarette. It was a bad habit she’d picked up from the brothel, but it did wonders at calming the nerves. She searched and searched, but it appeared that she smoked the last one that morning. “Fuck,” she muttered, doubling checking.

“Missing something?” a voice asked from across the bar.

She straightened to lock eyes with a tall man, his brunette hair shaved at the side. Unsure what to make of him, she simply nodded. He held himself like a businessman, suit and all, but all she could see were the rough edges of a working man.

“What have you lost?” he asked, waiting for a proper answer. 

Sighing in defeat, Y/n placed her bag on the bar. “My cigarettes. I fear I’ve cleaned myself out.”

A soft smile tugged at his lips, slowly he dug a hand into his jacket pocket and pulled a pack out. “I happen to have a few.”

Y/n couldn’t help but smile seeing the canister. God only knows where she’d have to go to buy a new pack. “Mind sharing one with me?”

Waltzing over to her side, movements swift and precise, he held one out between his fingers for her to take. Gently, she slipped it between her own before placing it between her lips. Being a gentleman, the man already had his lighter out by the time it was snug between her painted lips and lit it for her. “Thank you…” she waited for a name, taking a drag.

“Tommy.”

“Thank you, Tommy,” she smiled and watched as he slid into the seat next to her. “I assume your first name’s Thomas then.”

Tommy smiled. “No, it’s Ethel.” The statement pulled a laugh from the woman sitting next to him. “And what’s your name? Or do you not have one of those?”

“Oh I have one,” she said right before the barmaid returned with her drink. “Thank you,” she smiled at the girl. Attention back on the man beside her, she took a quick drink of her better-than-mediocre whiskey sour before answering his question. “Y/n L/n.”

The man nodded, eyes going up the length of her body. The silk smooth fabric of her dress, the purse discarded on the bar top, and the jewels that hung around her wrist told Tommy all he needed to know about her. Plain as day, Y/n came from money. “What brings ya to Small Heath?” Tommy questioned, lighting his own cigarette, and leaned back in his stool, turning towards her. 

“Small stop before traveling to London,” she admitted.

“London’s home, I take it.”

Y/n shrugged and flicked ash into the ashtray between them. “For now.”

Silence fell between the two. For once in her life, butterflies fluttered around her stomach, creating a knot that was both nerve racking and pleasant. There was never a chance for Y/n to even think of any sort of love except that of money before moving to England. But still beside Tommy, she felt something that she had never experienced before. Her heart told her it was more than just the love that overcame a silly school girl. No matter what it said, though, her brain overruled and told her off on the silly notion. 

The two spent the rest of the day talking at the bar, swapping stories of all they had done. Y/n swept her early career into a dark closet, locking it away from the young man. She knew how his sky blue eyes would turn the color of the sea with the knowledge out in the open. She couldn’t have that. For most of her life, Y/n had watched people’s views on her change in an instant based on a profession many dipped their toes into in the name of survival. She wouldn’t have that with him. Not when she could feel it in her bones that he was meant to be something more.

Eventually, Y/n had to go back to London, but she didn’t board the train without handing Tommy her address. “Write. Please. Anytime you wish, write to me. I will always answer,” a glossy smile danced on her lips, she placed a small paper in his palm. 

“I will. I promise,” he answered. Though they hadn’t known each other long, both knew that they would never lose touch.

“I best be going now.” Y/n scanned the station, noticing as people began to board the train. “Goodbye, Tommy.” Before she could turn on her heels, a hand caught her wrist and pulled her back. A grasp escaped her before soft lips captured her’s. Deepening the kiss, Y/n wanted to do anything but board the locomotive. 

Tommy pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. “Goodbye, Y/n,” he said with a sad smile as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

They parted that day and as Y/n watched him become nothing with the growing distance, she could still feel his lips on her. Call it love, call it lust, but it was one of the great wonders of the world, that she knew. 

Once in London, Y/n made haste to write to Tommy. Her friends couldn’t help but notice the smile that adorned her face when the mail was dropped by every day and the one letter she picked out of the rest, holding it to her chest. They wondered if she’d found a lover or a boyfriend, but there was no answer she could give them.

What was Thomas Shelby to her? To a girl that wasn’t meant to love?

An answer couldn’t be given in fear of ruining what had been created. 

Piles of letters flowed between the pair and soon, Tommy was asking her to come to Birmingham once more. The same excuses were used each time. She couldn’t find anyone to watch the shop or money was tight and she couldn’t spare a penny. White lies left her lips dressed as the truth. She couldn’t leave the safety of her home to visit the darkness of the unknown. Everything surrounding the man was new to her and Y/n couldn’t figure out how to handle it. Run straight at it or hide in the corner, those were her options. She liked the corner.

But Mr. Shelby wouldn’t have it with the excuses, deciding that if she couldn’t come to Birmingham then he would go to London.

A knock at the front door pulled mighty barks from Pearl, the French Bulldog Y/n found starving on the streets one night. With eyes on the stove, Y/n was weary to leave them unattended to answer the door. “Be there in a minute,” she called, giving the eyes a few extra seconds before sliding them onto a plate. Pearl ran between her feet, almost tripping her, as Y/n walked to the front door. Doing her best to keep the creature in the house, using one foot to hold her back, she opened the door, body freezing when she locked eyes with the man in front of her. 

“Y/n.” A smile like honey spread across his face, almost making Y/n forget why her heart seized up in fear. 

“Tommy,” she breathed out in return. The dog behind her used the shock to her advantage and quickly found a gap between her owner and the door, slipping through to bark at the stranger in front of her. Y/n scoffed and quickly scooped the dog up before she could take a bite out of Tommy’s polished shoes. “Pearl, you pest,” she scolded. “Um, please, come in.”

When the door was opened wider, Tommy stepped through the threshold and began to strip himself of his coat. “I was in town for business, thought I’d come see you.”

A smile lit up her face at his words. No one had ever been kind enough to do that, not for the innocent reasons he was. “There’s breakfast in the kitchen if you’d like some.” He nodded, following close behind as she led the way, eyes scanning the walls that past him.

“Lovely home,” he remarked as Y/n gestured for him to have a seat at the kitchen table. Doing as she pleased, he sank into the wooden chair and took in his surroundings.

The second his eyes had landed on her months before in the Garrison, Tommy knew the woman came from money. Back straight as a board, jewels dangling from her body, there was no mistaking it. He sat beside her, hoping she couldn’t sniff out dirt poor, violent prone individuals. By the end of her stay in Birmingham, it seemed she knew no difference between expensive suits obtained by gun point and those with a handful of coins. 

It was foolish for Tommy to believe she would want anything to do with him. He was a poor boy turned thief turned war hero turned criminal. Little he touched after the war was legal and he knew better than to believe that a woman of her status would ever want a man like himself. 

“Yeah,” she shrugged while dishing eggs onto two plates. Before placing them on the table, she set a piece of toast next to the eggs and grabbed the butter off the counter. A plate was placed in front of her guest, who wasn’t sure if he should be surprised that she knew how to cook. Anyone who owned a house such as the one Tommy found himself in usually had a few maids and a cook, but not Y/n it seemed. “What business brings you to London?”

“None worth anything,” he answered.

A groomed brow raised, she wondered why he wasted the trip. “Then why come?”

The answer that escaped his lips hit her in the heart, the one she saw coming. “For you.” For her, he had left the comforts of his home. For her, he had wasted precious time. And for her, he would surely be disappointed. 

“Tommy,” she drawled, eyes gloomy to match her said smile. “You didn’t have to.”

Leaning back in his chair, his blue eyes pierced her own. His demeanor had changed. Once loving and sweet, now sharp and calculated. “You refused to come see me, decided to come see why.”

Y/n sighed, unsure whether to let her eyes wonder or stay focused on the man in front of her. “I’ve been busy,” she lied.

Her words must have been see through, not an ounce of weight to them, when Tommy rolled his eyes. “Apparently, you’ve been so busy that you’ve allowed yourself to visit the coast.” His words were bitter, laced with venom, each syllable as dangerous as the next. “Thought I wouldn’t find out?”

A foolish move to believe she could live a wonderful life. Once back in London, Y/n had done her fair share of research on Thomas Shelby. When it came to survival, it was always best to know all those around you. Y/n couldn’t allow anyone to burn her empire, no matter how much she was willing to let them. She knew Tommy was making his way up in the world, climbing the latter, each rung as illegal as the next. He was a quick witted and calculated man. Ambition seemed to always cross his mind. Tommy seemed to know as much about her as she did about him. But if he only mentioned her trip to the coast, perhaps he didn’t know all she thought he did.

Opening her mouth to say something, she was cut off before a word could get out. 

“What am I to you?” The words were heavy on his tongue, even heavier ringing in her ears. 

Y/n sat there, opening and closing her mouth, the breakfast in front of her completely forgotten. There was no perfect answer. No sentence that could be formulated that could wash away the pain evident in his eyes. There was no word that could be uttered to mend what she had broken but the simple truth.

Letting her eyes scour the room, she did her best to avoid eye contact as Tommy’s gaze drilled into her. “If you believe you don’t mean anything to me, you’re wrong. You mean the world to me.”

“You have an interesting way of showing it.”

Y/n couldn’t help but flinch at the bitter words. “I…” she shook her head and got to her feet. She couldn’t sit still, not with her heart attempting to beat out of her chest. “I don’t know how to love.”

The words were barely above a whisper but Tommy heard them from his place at the table. Eyes softening, he wasn’t sure he’d understood her properly. “What do you mean?”

Pacing around the kitchen, tears welled up in her eyes at all she didn’t want to say. Y/n wasn’t ashamed of her past, in fact, many would find it triumphant, but it wasn’t one that bathed in love. She had never been loved or in love until she had met Thomas Shelby at a pub in Birmingham. Many only had one love and that was good enough. But with her background, love was never enough. She could love with her whole heart, but her loyalty would always come into question.

“I have never been allowed to love,” Y/n explained at the mini bar in the corner of the room. It may have been early, but it was never earlier too early for a drink. A strong on at that. Shaking hand poured whiskey into a glass, filling much more than needed. “I-I have never been in a… relationship that wasn’t physical.”

Tommy wasn’t sure what to make of her announcement or  the woman that stood before him. Whiskey pouring over the rim of her glass, it wasn’t hard for the man to see that her gentle words covered up a dirtier trust. Pushing himself out of his chair, in a few quick strides, he was by her side. Long fingers snatched the drink from her hand, placing it on the counter. “Were you a-”

“Please, please don’t say it!” she begged, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Please.” Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her against him, her head resting against his chest. “I won’t, I won’t,” Tommy said, rubbing a hand up and down her back. It did little soothe her but it was better than doing nothing. “It’s alright, love.”

Y/n shook her head, pulling away enough to meet his eyes. “No, it’s not,” she cried. “I’m fucking filthy! Not someone anyone would love.”

It broke his heart to see the pain in her eyes, the truth she placed on each word. Placing a hand against her cheek, he stroked the smooth skin, letting her melt against his touch. “I love you, Y/n,” he said softly to combat her sobs. “And I don’t care how filthy you are, I love you. And if I have to teach you how to lover properly, then so be it. But if you can love Pearl then I know you can love anyone.”

She was quiet, savoring each word that was said. No one had ever said such a thing to her and meant every word. Some customers had believed they were in love with her, taken her kindness for passionate love, but it was never that. “Do you mean it?” Y/n asked as Tommy wiped her tears away.

“Every word.” He leaned down, capturing her in a kiss. Y/n grabbed him by the collar and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Tommy could have stayed there, with his arms wrapped around her, forever, but Pearl had other ideas. The dog barked from the other side of the room, earning laughs from two. Turning his attention back to Y/n, Tommy brushed a stray hair behind her ear and asked, “Now, will you come to Birmingham with me?”

*~~*~~*

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[ironmandeficiency]

that’s not how those work

pairing: fives / reader

word count: 4124

summary: you’re a witch on an outer-rim planet that gifts fives with protection crystals to keep him safe when he leaves. you forgot to tell him how protection crystals work.

warnings: implied smut, shenanigans

a/n: shitpost prompt # 13, everyone!! i’m extremely excited to write this one bc i can’t get over the idea of just chucking a big ass hunk of rose quartz at a problem and making it just, ya know, stop being a problem. this quickly became a favorite of mine and i hope y’all enjoy my first attempt at writing for fives.

the battle was rough, as all battles seemed to be, but tonight the sweet taste of victory permeated through your village. the chief opened your home to your saviors, the men with almost identical faces, and dared their jedi to tell them no when a celebration was set to be held in their honor.

there was drinking and singing and dancing unlike anything you’d ever seen, every sensation only intensified by the mirth of the soldiers. it thrummed deep in your veins and set itself to the drumming of your heartbeat. you were never going to feel this euphoria again, so you believed it highly justified that your eyes lingered on the trooper that had saved you from a blaster shot to the chest earlier that day.

you’d met him while the defense strategies were still being planned, the day the republic forces arrived. his smile blazed hotter than the sun that burned the skin of the men in the harvest fields. he had eyes that were rich and held life like the fertile soil your people grew your food in. and his laugh? you’d never heard any song as sweet.

thoughts of him have had you enraptured since day one. he told you his name was fives, pointing to the number etched onto his golden skin with a smile, and the rest was history. every waking moment that wasn’t spent with everyday responsibilities was spent with each other. you swapped stories about your families and when he shared details of his dashing exploits as a soldier, you told him of the spells you cast and their sometimes ridiculous outcomes.

magic was never a circus trick to you. you took it seriously and it gave you a sense of pride as the strongest in the village. but the way his eyes gleamed with such joy at the idea of seeing real magic, how could you say no? so you found an unsuspecting newt and changed the pattern of its spots. the grin on fives’s face while you arranged them into a five to match his temple was one you’d never forget.

these memories and more were floating through your mind as you approached where he sat by one of the many bonfires built to accommodate for the several hundred guests. he was chatting with his brothers but the moment he spotted you, he forgot what he was supposed to be saying.

you had to have him under a spell, he reasoned. there was no way just looking at someone would take his words from him that efficiently, but alas. he paused halfway through his story and now had two pairs of eyes looking over him worriedly.

they followed his line of sight and their worry dissipated as quickly as it appeared. it was just you, the woman he was just talking about, the woman he hasn’t quit talking about since the first day they set foot on your planet. jesse and kix hadn’t met you in the tenday that the five-oh-first has been stationed in your home but they might as well have known you forever with the way fives has been rambling on about you.

jesse wordlessly shoves fives off the log he was sitting on and barely hides the laugh when he sees you grin at the action. fives, on any other day, would have smacked his brother upside the head for a stunt like that. the only thing that saved jesse from his fate was the way you smiled at him and offered him your hand to help him up.

he took it gratefully and relished in the electricity that buzzed through him where your skin touched his. you began to walk with him, looping your arm through his so casually it was like you’d been doing this for decades instead of days. fives had no idea where you were leading him but he would have followed you anywhere.

the walk was comfortably silent. days had been spent pouring out stories; it was nice to just bask in his presence next to you without needing to fill it with tales of derring-do and fond memories of the dirt you walked in.

arriving at your home was a bit of a rush, if you were completely honest with yourself. normally the only reason people walked through your doors was to enlist your skills for one task or another, some menial and others dire. now, however, opening your front door felt so excitingly different with fives next to you, the starlight bouncing off him in a way that only served to deepen his eyes and smooth his skin. this visitor wasn’t here to ask something of you, not here to take from you; he was here to give, and you were going to give him everything you had in return.

the door was barely shut when your lips crashed to his and his hands found their rightful place on your hips, pulling you closer to him. he was floating away on a cloud of bliss; the fact he was in your home and holding you and being held by you had the arc trooper drifting far from reality. a soft gasp left his mouth as you worked to remove his armor without lifting a finger from where your hands cupped his face, thumb stroking the stubble of his face.

it wasn’t until you guided him to your bed that he spoke of the way you soothed him, the way you’d been able to chase the nightmares away without even trying. you offered your own confessions in return, admitting that your dreams have consisted of brown eyes and a sly grin ever since that first night, and that you’ve never met anyone as strong and loyal and comforting.

you both found solace in each other’s arms, in the way your bodies melded together with the familiarity of your own mind. there were no barriers between you and no definite point as to where the boundaries of your separate bodies were. it was nothing like you’d ever known, would never know again. love was what it was, and although it was doomed to be distant from the moment you licked eyes, you vowed to yourself as you chanted his name that you would do everything you could to protect your soldier.

when you awoke, fives had an arm wrapped around your waist, his face buried into your neck. his body was hot against yours and you would have been happy never leaving your bed if it meant that you’d get to be held like this forever. but there was work to be done if you wanted to keep him safe.

“fives,” you whispered, rolling to face him. his groan was almost adorable as he nuzzled his face into your neck in protest of your movement. “fives, i’ve got a gift for you but i have to get up to get it.” another groan emitted from his throat as he tightened his arms around you, mumbling something incoherent about not wanting you to leave.

unwrapping him from you by sheer force wouldn’t have any effect on him, and you weren’t one to use your magic so frivolously, so you relented and let him hold you for a while longer. nearly an hour had passed before he kissed your collarbone, leaving the bed on his own volition. you took advantage of his absence and walked to your altar.

precious stones were one of the most common ways for your people to show their feelings and intentions with one another. each stone carried a different meaning, and picking a stone based on color alone could get one into quite the sticky situation if they didn’t know the intentions behind it.

fives’s status as an arc trooper meant that he often found himself in the thickest areas of the fight, on the riskiest missions with the minimum amount of backup. this man needed protection, and lots of it, if you were to judge by the scars you memorized the night before. he did what needed to be done in a fight at risk of his own life and constantly had to make decisions that could cost lives if they were wrong.

his role required an unshakable confidence and although you didn’t doubt his skills for a second, a little help wouldn’t hurt. plus it would make you feel better, knowing that he carried pieces of you wherever he traveled in the galaxy.

he returned to the room just as you picked out the stones he needed, walking up to you and resting his chin on your shoulder. only a fool would think he wasn’t observing everything around him and analyzing it; the soft smile on your face as you leaned into his touch, the meticulous arrangement of the altar in front of him, the concentration on your face as you seemed to be moving the stones around to compensate for some being removed. there was a reason behind it, just as there was a reason for everything you did.

his answer was given moments later as you led him back to your bed. the first thought that went through his head was continuing from last night, but you mentioned a gift. were you giving him a stone from your personal collection?

you told him of the significance of gifting stones not long after you met him. being given a stone directly from someone’s altar was one of the strongest displays of care for another person. all the signs pointed to that being what you meant by “gift” but part of him was trying to keep from being hopeful.

moving your legs to sit criss-cross on the bed, you open your hands that contained three stones that you believed were best suited to protect fives once he left the safety of your bed. his eyes met yours in a silent question of you think i’m worthy of this gift? and it took considerable amounts of willpower to not show him how worthy he was right then and there, gift be damned.

“i know you’ll be leaving soon, and i know it’s selfish but i don’t want you to forget me during your travels. these will help keep you safe and guide you in making the best decisions you can.”

his hands wrap around the amethyst tower first, running his fingers along the smooth faces and absurdly sharp edges and point. he spends a moment admiring it before meeting your eyes, a question on his lips. “you said before that the meanings of the stones were just as important as who you give them to. what does this one mean?”

you smiled, knowing he’d remember the importance of your words despite the casual tone you used. “amethyst is known for its ability to protect against negative energies and awaken its owner’s higher consciousness. it can guide you into making wiser decisions without having your emotions overtake logic.”

he hums at that, inspecting the tower a bit more before carefully resting it on your bedside table. his eyes catch the swirls of the malachite and you notice, moving to hand it to him as you answer the question you know is waiting on the tip of his tongue.

“this is malachite. it’s widely seen providing protective luck, like keeping you from being in the wrong place at the wrong time. maker knows you need some of that.” you add the last bit as an afterthought and are thoroughly pleased at the laugh it brings from him. he follows the swirls and circle patterns as he turns the stone over in his hand, studying it to learn of the ways each part of it connects to each other. once he’s satisfied with his inspection, he sets it beside the amethyst.

“this last one is carnelian, the courage stone. it boosts the holder’s willpower. many say that it helps the holder trust their own judgement and find the confidence to do what’s right in the toughest situations.”

he doesn’t move for a long moment, which worries you. the stone is sitting in his palm and staring at him with unseen eyes.

fives can’t recall a time where he felt so cared for, so appreciated. it was clear that you had put extensive thought into the meanings, which didn’t surprise him in the least, but he was still trying to register that you did that for him. sitting there in front of him, that soft smile on your face that had him falling at your feet, it was clear that you expected nothing in return for your gift. but he still felt that he had to give something in return, to show you that he cared for you the same way you cared for him.

he left your bed speckled in lovebites and a vambrace lighter, but he was given so much more in exchange. he had your love and your protection, and that was enough for him.

weeks later he finds himself, alongside rex, jesse, and hardcase, captured by a separatist-aligned village. none of them could have told you how exactly they were captured so easily nor how they still weren’t free after three days.

they heard talk from their captors about a message sent to one of dooku’s goonies about having skywalker’s fist begging for mercy (a whole ass lie, rex hasn’t said a word to them since they were taken three days prior). soon these overheard tidbits involved a date of arrival for the people who would take them off the planet they were currently stationed on.

all four of them knew that if they left this planet, there was a large chance they wouldn’t be reuniting with the five-oh-first.

this was unacceptable and made fives desperate to break free. but how the hell was he supposed to do that?! he didn’t have anything that could cut through the ropes that bound him to his chair, and his ankles were tied to the legs of the chair so he couldn’t move his legs. the edges of his armor, if positioned in a certain manner and moved, possibly could have done something to help but it was in a convenient pile several feet away.

he shifts yet again, agitating the rope burn on his wrists from days of struggling, and hisses when he feels something pointy jab him in the thigh. in an unforeseen twist of fate, they had left his belt on. and attached to his belt was the leather pouch he kept his protection stones in.

he had an idea.

slowly but surely, he moved his fingers what little he could to grab at his kama and rotate his belt until his fingers met the leather pouch. he blindly untied the knot in the string keeping it closed and felt around for the amethyst tower.

“fives! what the kriff are you doing playin’ with your rocks?!”

“i’m gettin’ us outta here.”

twirling it in his fingers and hoping to the maker he doesn’t drop it, he begins to use the amethyst to saw through the rope. it’s long work and takes several minutes before the rope is thin enough for him to pull it apart from his wrists. it hurts like a bitch and he’s mildly concerned when he feels a damp spot in the rope. a sigh of relief escapes his lips when he regains movement in his arms, quickly bending down to free his legs and ankles.

“well kriff me with a z-6, it actually worked!”

“couldn’t you have thought about that, i don’t know, three days ago?!”

“knock it off jess, or i’ll leave your shebs here!” fives wasn’t going to leave him, everyone knew that, so the retort was taken with merely an eyeroll.

as the quartet gathered their armor and snuck out of the village, fives realized something: these protection crystals weren’t playing around.

a simple bout of surveillance, they said. they’re not going to have anyone posted at their “abandoned” outpost, they said. it’ll be in and out, they said.

they were a bunch of liars.

he was now -alongside echo and tup- running for his life through the most horribly laid-out building he’d ever been in with only vague recollections on how to get out through the darkness. the enemy voices seemed to be getting louder the farther they ran and it was infuriating. his lungs and legs told him that he was going his damndest but it still seemed like the enemy was getting the upper hand.

“the doors should be up ahead! but there’s one problem!” echo shouted over the chaos.

tup couldn’t believe his ears. “what could possibly be worse than this?!”

“even if we get to the doors, we’ll be shot before we can even open them!”

fives nodded in agreement as much as he could while in a mad sprint. that tiny detail did put a slight damper on their chances of escaping alive. but then again, echo was operating on the assumption that they had to stop to open the doors like a civilized person would. lucky for the three of them, fives could barely be considered civilized on his best days.

he brought a hand to his leather pouch and fished around for the malachite chunk with its intricate patterns and curious shape.

“what in the nine hells are you doing?! do you want to die here?!” tup shouted from beside him in frantic confusion. this was no time for fives to ogle his rock collection, they had to get out of here!

“echo! how far are we from the doors?!”

“a few hundred feet!”

“when we’re fifty feet out, turn on your lamp! i’ve got an idea!”

“this better not get us killed!”

fives would have turned on his own ages ago, but his had unfortunately been damaged on the way to the outpost (he tripped and hit his head on the trunk of one of the weirdest trees he’d ever seen, but if anyone asks he got punched). his feet pounded on the ground to the beat of his racing heart, hand loaded with what was about to be his and his brother’s saving grace.

his eyes were peeled, waiting for the moment echo’s headlamp flickered on and illuminated the doorway to the outside world. it felt like forever in those brief moments, but the moment the light flickered on it was like only seconds earlier he had fumbled for the stone.

it was divine intervention, or maybe it was the protective luck of the green stone he held in his hand. hell, it could have been some sort of protection you had put on him and the stone without him knowing. when he spotted the button that would guarantee his brothers’ safety and lobbed his malachite chunk at it, there was still part of him that doubted it would work.

but he heard a satisfying clink and a clatter, then saw the beginnings of a sunrise peek through the opening doors. echo nor tup could believe what just happened despite it happening right in front of his eyes. the sight of freedom, the closest to a guarantee for another day they’d had in hours, seemed to increase their already breakneck pace.

fives had no idea how it happened, but by some sheer force of luck (thanks malachite) he ended up kicking his stone ahead of them when they ran outside. gods he would have mourned his malachite if he had left it behind, but thankfully he didn’t have to. with the grace his training had blessed him with, he swooped down with one hand and snatched the stone from the ground without breaking his pace.

they didn’t stop running until they were on the outskirts of where they had set up camp, the trio collapsing to their knees when they heard familiar voices calling out their arrival. there was no telling how much longer they could have sprinted from that base high off the adrenaline of near death and awed disbelief, but the moment they felt the hands of brothers lifting them from the ground they were out like lights.

the first thing he registered was the near blinding pain in nearly every muscle of his body. everything was throbbing and tense, and oh how he could use a massage right about now. the second thing he noticed was the absence of his malachite in his fist. did he imagine picking it back up after opening the doors? was he going to have to explain to you how he lost one of your gifts the next time he saw you? he couldn’t think over an incessant beeping he couldn’t identify and-

“fives?... fives! hey, you’re okay, vod.” kix’s voice and comforting hand were soon bringing him back down.

“my malachite! where is it?!”

kix gave him a funny look about the fact the first thing he asks about is a rock, but obliges his brother’s question. “if you’re talking about the green one, it’s right here. looks like it got a little chip in it, though.” the relief on fives’s face perplexed the medic who was unsure as to how he would have chipped it in the first place when he was supposed to be in the middle of an op. he handed the rock to fives who familiarized himself once again with the shape of it, as if it were an old friend he was reuniting with after lost time.

“speaking of, what even happened out there? the last thing we hear from you is that the outpost was flooded with enemy forces, then next thing we know you’re all sprinting like mad men!”

“he’s a karking genius, that’s what!”

echo’s awake now and apparently cursing? as if that’s a thing he does regularly? and calling fives a genius? who was this man and what did he do with his batchmate?

without anyone egging him on, echo continues. “we’re runnin’ for our lives through th’ base, in near complete darkness, and i don’t think we’re gonna get out alive! we can’t get to the doors an’ stoppin’ to open ‘em would have gotten at least one of us shot, but then this bastard! this complete and utter bastard decides to throw one’a his rocks from his girlfriend at the button! and it works! the doors opened and we didn’t stop runnin’ till we got here!”

fives looked between kix and echo and back at kix again. “what kind of drugs did you give him?” kix’s reply was teetering between amusement and mild concern. “none, but i think he’ll be fine after some more sleep and food.”

“what’s this i hear about fives being a bastard?”

kix laughs at rex’s jab before moving to check on others that were in the medbay, knowing that he was subtly hinting that he wanted to speak to fives about the mission.

“just talked to tup,” rex began, taking a seat at the foot of fives’s cot. “he said that you wouldn’t have gotten out if it weren’t for your quick thinking but clocked out before i could get much more.”

fives chuckled at the image of tup falling asleep mid-sentence for a moment before rex continued. “based on what little he said, there was no way you were getting out of there. how did you do it?”

as he heard the story, rex was awed. this kind of thinking, the seat-of-your-pants strategies that saved the day when least expected to, it was exactly why he promoted him to arc trooper. he couldn’t help but feel a little proud. there was just one more question that’s been nagging at him since they were taken prisoner by the seppie civilians, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “what’s your deal with rocks these days?”

the grin that overtook the arc’s face was that of a lovesick loth-wolf pup.“i was given these protection crystals by a witch.” oh yes, fives’s cyare. rex remembers her well. “she didn’t tell me how to use them, but i seem to be getting the hang of it.”

before rex could give a reply, a loud bark of laughter was heard across the medbay.

“ey, what’s so funny?!”

“the way you’ve been using those crystals! that’s not how they work!” kix was now doubled over, holding his sides as if they were literally splitting. “oh stars, this shit’s priceless!”

“hey, kark it, asshole! it worked!” fives, in a brilliant moment of stupidity, decided to throw his malachite at the hysterical medic.

“oh, kriff! what was that for?!”

fives sat up and chuckled, whispering a humorous it worked! before kix was storming back to him, malachite in hand. oh shit, he was going to regret hitting kix with his rock later today, he just knew it.