#five: your son from the future lol what's up dad want to help save the world

[in-tua-deep]

idk if you still do au ideas but what if delores was a real person in the apocalypse? how it woul dbe done i have no idea but i love all your aus and thought it would be cool

okay okay I don't tend to go for real!Dolores aus admittedly because I find her much more compelling as what she is: a reflection of five himself and a symptom of his crushing loneliness

but i started thinking about it and you know what?? i think five deserves a little socialization, as a treat

so say like, 0.5% of the population is resistant to abilities. Allison would really struggle to rumor them, Five wouldn't be able to jump with them, and, most importantly, whatever the fuck Vanya's ability does has like, reduced damage or something

and the og apocalypse isn't the moon apocalypse, so let's say that it was pure waves of Vanya's powers that fucked over the earth

so 0.5% of the population survives the apocalypse. though, let's be honestly, the real number is a lot smaller than that. People who might have survived Vanya's initial power wave (miraculously) did not survive buildings crushing them or survive the car/plane/bus/train/other transportation crashes or survive being left alone when they are too young to reliably look after themselves, or the variety of other problems that come with 99.5% of the population dying at once

So, Five arrives in the apocalypse and is met with ruin and fire and a whole lot of dead people. He finds his siblings, but it doesn't matter. They're dead. He doesn't even recognize them at first, these strange grown-ups who he identifies not by their faces but by the umbrellas on their wrists that match his own

As he realizes the full impact of his situation, he hears a voice that says, very succinctly, "holy shit!"

It's a girl a few years older than Five himself, maybe 15 or 16, and she is very excited to see another survivor.

And here's where I u-turn this au around bc i'm not all that interested in real!Dolores, but I would be down to talk about Five meeting survivors in the apocalypse, because if Dolores is real I don't buy no one else survived.

So Dolores shows up and see a Literal Child crying over the corpses of his family and assumes that Five is a fellow survivor, and she immediately grabs him up. Five is incoherent with grief at this point anyway, so he doesn't even protest when she basically hauls him away from the bodies. She's babbling at him, but he doesn't really hear anything she's saying

And then she takes him to her dad

(Why not, let's have the 1% potentially be a heritable thing)

and her dad, let's call him just some dad name. like Rick. it has been a fucking WEEK for him, okay. he had his daughter with him, his ex-wife is on the other coast for her work, and by some miracle he survived the apocalypse and so did his child, and he's been wracking his brains trying to figure out what the fuck to do next

and then his daughter shows up with a traumatized thirteen-year-old in tow

now rick is a good dude. he's a dad. they get out of five that his name is five ("what the fuck" dolores mouths to him over five's shoulder and rick can't help but agree) and the bodies he found were his siblings ("Dad and Ben and Vanya weren't there though," this child cries desperately and rick feels his own heart clench in response, "They might still be alive!")

"We can look for them." Rick assures his new adopted child, because he is an adult in a fresh apocalypse and this kid has presumably lost everything he's ever known (more than rick even knows at the time)

and they do. They each get wagons and they go out and find supplies and look for other survivors. Five is... surprisingly helpful and also surprisingly docile as he is able to rely on Someone Else to give orders while he attempts to (dissociate) process what the fuck has happened

and here's the thing: Five prides himself on being independent, sort of. He's independent for a child soldier, but he's used to taking orders from a male authority figure and Rick happens to be just that

The first time that Five does something dangerous and Rick yells is a revelation

(Rick isn't sure if he hopes that Five's dad is alive or not, because if they find that man alive then Rick might just kill the jackass himself. Also like, Five is bizarrely knowledgeable out survival skills, like way too knowledgeable about it, which is helpful for them but also very concerning)

they find a newspaper and Five finds the article that mentions his father's recent death ("Huh. Heart attack." Five says, and there is no emotion in his voice)

(Years later, years later, Five and Rick talk. "I don't think I wanted to find him, either." Five admits, softly because Dolores is asleep, "I think I was more scared of finding him alive than I was of finding his body. He would've been so mad at me, I think.")

this newspaper is how Rick and Dolores find out about Five being Number Five, Umbrella Academy Missing Person

"Dude, what the fuck." Dolores says, wide eyes, "You're like, thirty?"

"I'm thirteen." Five says, and then checks the date on the newspaper again, "Also I think I would technically be 29 if I lived through all of it, 'cause it's April and my birthday is in October."

"You... time travelled?" Rick asks, which is honestly the more relevant question, "Can you go back?"

And Five just,,, crumples on himself. Because he tried, he tried really hard. It didn't work. "I'm gonna figure it out. I'm gonna go back, I'm going to save them."

That, Rick thinks, is a lot of weight to put on one person's shoulders, but especially the shoulders of a child.

"Alright." Rick says, because what else can he say after finding out his new child has superpowers and is from like, 2004? "What do you need?"

("Oh my god I have so many memes to teach you." Dolores says later, reverently. Five blinks in confusion and Rick mentally prepares himself for the recitation of so many vines)

And it's easier, somehow. Five sometimes feels like it's a betrayal, but he settles into apocalypse life with an ease that surprises him.

He lets Rick fuss over him and help tie his scarf securely around his head every morning before he sets off on supply runs with Dolores. And they're kids! Five has never had a friend before, and Dolores is funny and smart and she's struggling just as much as he is.

"I don't know if my mom's alive." She says to him, in solidarity when he checks the face of every corpse to see if they're Vanya.

Five is practical in the way only a child soldier can be. He's economical with the room in their wagons, carefully examining what might and what might not be useful.

Dolores, on the other hand, constantly takes up space with what Five sees as useless shit.

"Excuse you," Dolores says, shoving a game of monopoly, the entire discworld series, and a pack of glitter gel pens into her wagon, "These are absolutely vital apocalypse supplies."

She challenges him, plays with him in a way no one ever has. "I bet you I can find more batteries today than you can," She grins at him, "Winner gets to pick dinner first?"

"You're on." Five says, directly before Dolores pulls two packs of 24 AA batteries from behind her back, like a cheat.

Dolores makes him take a ten minute break when they find a playground that has been mostly not-destroyed. They rummage around kids backpacks and mother's handbags for some good loot, too numb to corpses to even be bothered all that badly about the corpses they belong to.

"I'm getting on the swings." Dolores says when Five starts making noises about moving on, "I haven't been on a swingset in ages."

"What's the point?" Five grumps.

"Don't be sour because you can't swing as high as I can!" Dolores laughs, getting higher and higher as the swings creak ominously.

Five grumpily gets into the other swing and grudgingly kicks himself back and forth until Dolores takes pity on him and teaches him how to properly move his legs and body to get higher and higher.

Dolores jumps from the swing seat and lands with a flourish and smile. Five jumps out of his seat and then jumps, warping right in front of Dolores and making her yell and hit at him in outrage. Five smiles the widest he has all week.

This is how Five grows up in the apocalypse, with Dolores teasing him into taking breaks and leaning over his shoulder to look at his math and scandalizing him by stating that she'd only just started on matrices in her own high school math class.

Every night they huddle around Rick while he picks up whatever book Dolores picked out that day because it is a travesty that Five has never read hunger games or whatever, and then they read together because it would be a genuine blood bath if they all took turns. The first time Five accidentally mentioned a spoiler and Dolores genuinely considered murder was the birthday of this tradition

Some days the air is too smoky or there are dust storms or it's just plain too dangerous to go out, and they all stay in. Dolores regales Five with stories about public school, and Five tells them about his siblings.

Then they all cry

"I shouldn't be crying." Five sobs.

"Shut the fuck up," Dolores sobs back, "You literally watched me lose my shit over remembering my shitty eighth grade dance and listened to me sob-sing toxic for like four hours."

"In fairness I also wished you would shut up then."

"Let me hug you or I will start singing songs that I only remember the chorus for again you absolute fucker."

"I could always sing some -"

"No, Rick/Dad."

And Five grows up. Rick shows him how to shave very carefully in front of cracked mirrors. Dolores teases him every time his voice cracks. Rick tells Five in no uncertain terms that he loves and cares for him, and that Reginald was a little bitch. There are a lot of heartfelt conversations around that, honestly. Rick telling Five that he and the siblings deserved better, that they were children and deserved to have a childhood.

And that he has faith in Five. Rick and Dolores both do, they bring him back paper and pens and pencils and chalk and anything Five can use to write equations. They poke around any libraries for books on theoretical mathematics and quantum physics. Rick and Dolores go out scouting for food while Five stays home and can work longer.

They also make him take breaks, make sure that he's looking after himself.

They're a little better off than OG!Five when it comes to food, because some animals survive. Enough that Rick figures out how to hunt. Five is the first one to each bugs, and even though Dolores makes faces they all start eating bugs as well.

"Pretty sure there's loads of cultures that eat bugs." Rick says grudgingly, wondering if he should try stirfry the cockroaches and if that would improve the taste. "There's even, uh, cricket flour or whatever, right?"

"Plus you eat like, five spiders a year when you're asleep." Dolores says cheerfully, just to watch her dad's face scrunch up in displeasure.

"That doesn't sound true, but I don't know enough about spiders to dispute it." Five mutters, and Dolores gives him such a proud look that it makes him roll his eyes.

They're in their thirties when Rick dies. He's out foraging and hunting, and the rubble he's standing on gives way and he ends up with a gash in his leg. He manages to stop the bleeding, but the world is filthy and they don't have any antibiotics.

He gets an infection.

"It's okay." He tells both of his kids, "It's okay. I'm just so glad that you guys have each other, y'hear? I'm so glad."

"It's not okay." Five says, voice thick and choked, "It's not."

"Yeah, well, you're going to figure out how to go back, right? Go back in time and save everyone. Then I'll have never died, right?" Rick smiles, "And even if you don't, I'll be waiting for you on the other side and we'll see each other again anyway."

"I'm going to fix it."

"I know. I have faith in you, Five." Ricks says honestly, and that's more than Reginald ever said.

They sit quietly together while Dolores is out scavenging. They've been taking turns sitting with Rick.

"I won't remember you, in the past, will I?" Rick says rhetorically, but Five answers anyway.

"I don't think so."

Rick hums, "Well, doesn't matter. If you need help in the past, you come to me, y'hear?"

"You won't remember me."

"Doesn't matter. You come find me, and you tell me your crazy story until I believe you, and then I'll help you." Rick says firmly, "You're family. You're my son. Timelines? Don't matter. If you need help, with anything, even if it's just with - with filling out a bowling team or something -"

"I have never been bowling in my life and you know it." Five interrupts, but it makes him laugh just a little bit which was clearly Rick's intention.

"Well who knows what you'll get up to in the past! You'll be able to go bowling, you know. Get to wear those uncomfortable shoes. Hey, you go far enough back maybe you can go to Dolores's tenth birthday party and put me out of my misery."

"Was she bad at bowling?"

"Oh, she was wiping the floor with me. No contest."

"Honestly, that sounds absolutely accurate."

"Shut up, bowling just wasn't my sport. Regardless, the point was that I'm giving you a free pass to come and get me. Because I know you, I know how you think." Rick brings up his hand to tap his finger against Five's forehead, "You get it into your head that you need to go it alone, take it all on your shoulders. I'm telling you that if you do that I'll somehow manifest my memories and come smack you over the head for being stupid, you hear?"

"I'm not dragging you into anything." Five says firmly, "I'll have my siblings."

"Who were also children." Rick points out. "And dragging? Dragging is such a strong word for a volunteer."

"A volunteer who won't remember volunteering." Five shoots back.

Rick just shrugs, and then winces when the movement jolts his bad leg. "Five, I'm going to be honest with you here. And sappy. Can you handle a bit of sappiness for a minute?"

"No."

"Well too bad. Can't leave a dying man, you'd feel too bad. So you're stuck with me. But you listen good, okay? Because you aren't dragging me into anything. Whatever life you have, I want to have a part of that. Because you're my son. Wherever you are, whatever you do, I want to help because you're family. What you'd be doing by leaving me out of it is depriving me of someone I love, depriving me of knowing one of the best kids I've ever known."

"Shut up." Five says, choked.

"Nope, it's sappy time." Rick states, "Maybe asking you to come find me is selfish, but I don't care. No matter what version of me exists, I want to be in your life."

"My life is a walking joke, why would you want any part of that?"

"It has been my privilege to watch you grow up. To help you. To be here for you. Of course I'd want to be there to watch you grow up the rest of the way."

"But -"

"Shut up, just let me tell you that I am so proud of you. You never give up, and your heart is so big. You love so much and so loudly, and it's been the highest honor of my life to be included in your family."

Five pauses for a moment to collect himself before simply saying - "You're the best dad I've ever had."

Rick snorts, "Considering my competition, I'd sure hope so. That bar was so low old Reggie was practically limbo dancing with the devil. Now get over here and give an old man a hug."

They don't bury Rick, when he dies. They don't have time and the ground is too hard and they don't have the heart to move him. Instead the pack everything up and seal him in the shelter they'd lived in.

Dolores pulls out a bottle of ancient nail polish and painstakingly writes Rick's name on the wall with his birth year and an approximate current year. They aren't 100% sure though, since time blends together out in the apocalypse, but it's something.

They continue by themselves. They get older.

Dolores jokingly calls him her husband because the way his face scrunches up makes her cackle. They see other people very occasionally, usually passing through. Usually groups. Dolores and Five get to flex their hosting skills, though more than one group declines their cockroach stirfry.

("It's a family recipe." Five says with amusement in his eyes that usually manages to drown out old grief.)

"Jeeze, that kid couldn't have been older'n twenty-three." Dolores complains, "Makes me feels positively ancient."

"They wouldn't have known any world 'cept for the apocalypse." Five muses, pouring some boiled water into wine glasses because they might be living in the apocalypse but they can be fancy.

"Do you ever think about that?" Dolores asks, turning to him with no judgement, just curiosity. "When you go back, you'll be like, erasing them from existence."

Five shrugs, "Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe this place will just split off into an alternate timeline."

"Maybe none of this is real." Dolores says, amusement coloring her voice. "Maybe you aren't talking to a real person at all. Maybe this is just a symbol of your insanity and cracked mind."

"Dolores, I literally have a scar where you stabbed me. Did I somehow manage to stab myself in the back?"

"Scraped you, I scraped you. By accident."

"So you maintain." Five says haughtily, swirling his water in his wine glass like a pretentious prick.

"I could totally be fake. You don't know my life."

"I know way too much about you, Dolores. Like, way way too much." Five scoffs, because Dolores and him have literally no secrets from one another at this point. Five even knows the truth behind what happened at Janet Scranton's thirteenth birthday party. Like, he said, way too much.

"Maybe you made it up. Maybe that's why you know so much."

"Dolores, I'm going to be honest with you right now." Five presses the tips of his fingers to his chin, "If you were a figment of my imagination, you would be so much better at math."

"Hey!" Dolores squawks indignantly, "I didn't even get to finish high school you pretentious prick!"

"Neither did I!"

"You didn't even go to high school, you brat."

"I'm fifty-two I think I've outgrown 'brat.'"

"Tell that to your attitude." Dolores says haughtily, "You're still younger than me."

"Won't be when I go back in time." Five says cheerfully, completely ignoring Dolores's venomous look.

"That's cheating."

"Sucks to suck." Five says loftily, taking another sip of his water.

Sometimes they talk about The Plan, with capital letters. What Five is going to do when he goes back in time, depending on when he pops out. Is he going to adopt his siblings? What about Reginald?

"You don't think I could kill Reginald?" Five says, holding a hand to his chest in mock offense.

"I think you should let me do it. I'll even give you control of tonight's music if you do."

"What are you doing to do? Bite his ankles? What if you're like, seven or something?"

"All the better to get away with it since I'll be too young to convict or whatever."

"Pretty sure that's not how the law works."

"How would you know? Just for that I'm playing Istanbul on repeat again."

"I don't know why you think that's a threat. That song slaps."

It takes a few more years before Five is close enough that the Commission comes to interfere. Because that's what I think happened - Five was getting too close and they stepped in because they might as well distract the man as much as they can with missions, right?

So the Handler shows up. And she offers Five a job, telling him that they have the ability to travel through time. And Five - hesitates.

"Give me some time?" Five asks, and the Handler graciously gives him 24 hours.

And he and Dolores talk it over, because now that his goal is more in sight than it has ever been and Five is scared.

"What are you waiting for? You have the chance to see your siblings again." Dolores says patiently.

"Yeah," Five says, and what he doesn't say is clear. But I won't see you.

"Five." Dolores says, and she cradles his face between her palms like he is something precious, "I have had so much time with you already. More than I would have ever. We have been so lucky, to have this time. How can I demand more than what we have already been given?"

"When have you ever not demanded the world, Dolores?" Five asks, his own hand coming up to cover Dolores's own.

"We've had decades together, Five. We're getting old. I was always going to lose you, one way or another. Nothing lasts forever."

"I don't want to lose you."

"I know. But if I had to choose a way, if I could decide where our story ends, this would be it. Letting you go, because this way you get to live. You get to see your family again. You get to save the world. I could ask for nothing more than for you to get your happy ending."

Five removes Dolores's hand from his cheek so that he can cradle it between them, "I'm happy here with you. I've never been happier. Isn't that silly? That I was happier in the apocalypse?"

"I bet killing Reggie would make you happy." Dolores laughs rustily.

"One day you're going to see the mysterious disappearance of a famous billionaire in the paper and feel a twinge of satisfaction and now have a clue why." Five laughs as well, shaking his head.

Dolores pats Five's hands, "Five, look at me. We've had our time. And you're going to give me even more of it. More time with my father. More time with my mother. I'll never know it, but you'll have saved me."

"What if this is - what if this is an alternate reality? What if I leave you here alone?"

"Then you'll be saving a 15-year-old girl from the same fate as me. Because as much as I love you, as much as I have loved this time we have had together, this is still an apocalypse. This should never have happened, and if you have a chance to go back and prevent it, then I want you to take that chance with both hands."

"Even if it means leaving you alone?"

Dolores smiles at him, "I'm not going to be alone. Far too many creepy crawlies in the apocalypse for that."

"Shut up, I'm being serious."

"Hmm." Dolores hums consideringly, "Maybe I'll head North, to that new settlement that last group said they'd heard word of. Sure they'd find some use for an old woman who's survived this long in the wilderness."

"You can have my half of the record collection." Five says, pulling her against him into a hug that she easily returns.

"As if I wouldn't have stolen them as soon as you left." She scoffs, but it's a little wet, and Five pretends his own eyes aren't leaking tears.

When The Handler comes back, Dolores gives him another hug. She also slips something into his pocket - some photos. They'd taken it a year into the apocalypse, when Dolores had found an ancient looking polaroid camera and towed it home despite Five's protests about practicality. The photos are worn and faded at the edges, but the smiles on Five's little apocalypse family's faces are undeniable.

"You'll have to see if they magically fade when you change the timeline." Dolores whispers to him with a grin, "Like in the movies."

"Okay." Five whispers back.

"You have the list of movies to watch, right?" Dolores says. Five rolls his eyes and nods because he wrote the list last night into his Vanya-book while Dolores hovered over his shoulder and critiqued his handwriting.

"And you promise to try a proper non-expired twinkie at some point?"

"That I do not promise. I think even looking at one would make me lose my lunch. I have twinkie-trauma."

"Shut up and get going." Dolores says, because the Handler is starting to tap her foot impatiently.

And off Five goes to become an assassin. Though - he's much more gentle this time. He's careful, he doesn't kill children and he usually takes jobs that don't require killing at all. He distracts and manipulates events as much as he can without killing.

He's actually much more well socialized, thanks to Rick and Dolores. Less feral child and more determined man on a mission.

Which is why he's so frustrated when he finally, finally manages to get the equations to work and falls through and falls - directly back into his stupid thirteen-year-old body.

"Shit." Five says, loudly, and revels in the surprised look on his siblings faces.

He strides into the kitchen, and they all follow him like ducklings. They look exactly the way they did when they died.

"Wow this is actually way harder than I thought it would be." Five muses, looking at their dead faces. But as Dolores would say, life is hard but you have to keep on trucking sometimes. "Whatever, what's the date?"

"Five, where have you been?" Diego demands, looking irritated. It makes Five snort in amusement.

"The future. The past. If you want like, an exact list of dates you'll have to hold your horses. I spent like, two weeks in Peru once. No souvenirs though, unfortunately."

They look taken aback, like they didn't expect Five to have quite this much sass. Oops. That is definitely Dolores's influence. Or maybe he was always a little asshole. In fairness, what teenagers aren't tiny assholes? He has an excuse.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Diego's eyebrows are furrowed in anger. It kind of takes Five aback for a second, because he remembers a Diego who stutters when he argued.

"When did you learn the fuck-word?" Five asks, raising an eyebrow before her can help it, "Grace ought to wash your mouth out with soap."

Diego immediately goes red, "Shut up!"

"Wow you're so easy to rile up. Aren't you like, twenty-something? Actually, I could figure out for myself how old you are if you gave me the date."

"I'm twenty-nine." Diego growls, like that was the point.

"Haunting!" Five says cheerfully, because that means there is way less time than he would like, narrowing his time down to a six month window.

It's extremely funny how his cheer makes all of them make faces.

It's Klaus who leans forward, "Why do you need to know?"

Klaus's face is open and curious and - (looks exactly like he did when Five found him all those years ago) - and Five can't help but answer him. "The world end on April 1st, 2019. No it isn't an April Fools joke, yes I have heard that joke like a million different times. I just want to know how close I landed so I can, you know, start working on how to fix that."

"Woah woah woah, roll it back." Allison says, holding a hand up, "What?"

"The apocalypse occurs on April 1st, 2019." Five says, slowly. "I have traveled from afar to prevent this from happening, because like, everyone dies."

"Everyone?" Vanya says weakly from the side.

She's clearly expecting to be ignored, so Five turns his head to address her directly by wiggling his hand back and forth a little. "Sort of. Like, not too many people survive at all. A handful of the human population, you know."

"But you survived?" Diego recovers admirably, if bitingly.

"Well, no." Five says rolling his eyes, "Wouldn't you just know it, Klaus here has managed to figure out a new ability!"

Everyone turns to look at Klaus, who immediately holds up his hands like he's being arrested or something, "I did not!"

"Wonderful! Now that we've established that I'm alive -"

"Why should we trust a word you say?" Luther says for the first time, looking pensive.

Five blinks, genuinely taken aback. "Because... I'm your brother? Because I can clearly and obviously time travel? Like, yeah, it would have been more convenient if I'd arrived in like, my old-body for proof-purposes, but like. I mean. Thirteen is still a pretty convincing age to be to prove time travel considering if I hadn't, I would be like, almost thirty."

"Roll it back again." Allison says firmly, "What do you mean by 'old body'?"

"Great question!" Five says pointing at Allison and smiling. Everyone looks at him weird again, and Five takes a moment to wonder if they've ever experienced positive reinforcement. Knowing Reginald, probably not. "Wait! Is Reggie alive? Wait, no, answer that in a second. Uh. When I time traveled I fucked up my body I guess, I was like, old. White hair and wrinkles-type old from spending decades in the apocalypse. But I fucked up the calculations and got booted back to my thirteen-year-old body, I guess. How, I have no idea."

"What?" Vanya says, still equally weakly.

"You have no idea how fucked up time travel is." Five whispers conspiratorially to Vanya, loud enough for the whole table to hear, "There are so many ways to die. Or permanently tear a hold in space time. But like, with life as we know if ending soon-ish, I figured I couldn't possibly fuck it up worse than it already was, y'know? Speaking of, anyone have the date again?"

"Wait, what was that about dad?" Luther asks, very focused.

"Oh, you still call him dad? Big oof." Five says automatically, because apparently his verbal filter is shot to hell after living with Dolores. It does make Klaus bark out a too-loud laugh.

"What does that mean?" Luther asks aggressively.

"It means Reginald sucks and doesn't deserve the title of 'dad,' what did you think I meant?" Five asks, and now both Diego and Vanya and both cracking smiles, though Vanya is covering hers with a hand.

"Have some respect for the dead." Luther growls, standing up and looking very large and threatening.

Five sways back, craning his head up, "Woah there big buy, sit down before I injure my poor growing spine looking up at you. Jeeze, did Reggie force feed you steroids or something? I wouldn't put it past him but like, I just want to know he at least went over the side effects of the drug with you. Also like, thanks for narrowing it down. Also terrifying! Seriously though, exact date please because if I have less than 24 hours I am going to break down crying and that is a threat."

"I love this Five." Klaus says reverently.

"March 21st." Vanya offers, finally.

"Wow! Terrifying!" Five says, clapping his hands together, "Hate that. Ten days, huh? Well, who wants to get on board the save-the-world express?"

Klaus immediately flings his hand in the air, Five points at his brother appreciatively. "Yes, excellent! I'll take the volunteer in the lovely skirt as my first team member. Any other volunteers?"

"Danke!" Klaus simpers, grinning widely like this is the vest entertainment he's had in weeks.

"I'm not just going to stand here and listen to you badmouth dad and boss us around." Luther slams his hands on the table.

"Well not with that attitude." Five snarks.

Diego raises his hand, "I would like to join team fuck dad as well."

"We can certainly debate team names later." Five says, nodding wisely as Luther gives some sort of scandalized gasp.

"Honestly, I just want to see where this is going." Klaus confesses.

Five shrugs, because he doesn't really care about the reason. "Don't you want to prove me wrong them? Prove what a well-adjusted young man Reginald Hargreeves raised?"

"Shut up." Luther grinds out, looking a moment away from throwing a punch.

"If this is all true, I have to get home." Allison cuts in, looking concerned, "I have - I have a daughter."

"I mean, if you want to give Claire a world to live in then I'd stick around, but that's just me." Five shrugs.

"You know her name?" Allison asks, obviously taken aback.

Five is almost offended, "Uh, yeah. I have her photo as well. Y'all get on like, a bizarre number of gossip magazine covers did you know that?"

Allison manages to outdo herself in terms of being taken aback once more.

There's a beat of silence, and then Five turns, "Vanya? You in?"

"Me?" Vanya blinks, looking shocked. "What can I do?"

"Yeah, what can she do?" Diego asks, crossing his arms and suddenly looking grumpy.

It baffles Five, who scrunches his nose, "Uh, like, a lot? I assume? I mean. I'm going to be honest here, just looking at y'all right now is a lot. In more ways than one! Hashtag trauma and all that, but like, name a single one of you that wouldn't be the most obvious person in the room as soon as you walked into it. Except Vanya, who somehow manages to look like a well adjusted adult, by some miracle."

"Did you just verbally say the word hashtag?" Allison asks, looking so deeply confused.

"More concerned about the trauma he tacked onto there, but y'know, to each their own." Klaus immediately cuts in.

"You think I'm well-adjusted?" Vanya asks, looking oddly touched.

"I would like to direct your attention to Diego's leather pants-scowl combo and Luther's general aura of daddy-issues." Five says pointedly, "I can practically smell the tragic comic book backstory in this room. If I'd jumped back a decade earlier this would have been Batman's wet dream of orphan selection."

"Alright! Game plan!" Five says, waving Diego's knife in his hand.

Diego's hands immediately go to his weird harness looking thing, "Hey!"

"Give me just one moment to get the tracker out." Five rolls his eyes, "Then I'll give it back, I promise. Also if someone could ask Grace for like, some antibiotics that would be good."

"What?" Allison asks, directly before Five stabs himself and there is suddenly panic at the table.

"Relax!" Five says, allowing Diego to remove the knife from his hands. He doesn't need it anyway and his hand immediately drops down to root in the wound.

"Five what the fuck!" Diego yells, but Five just pulls up bloody fingers and waves the tracker into Diego's stupefied face.

"What the fuck is that, Five?" Allison demands, looking very shaken.

"I literally just said it was a tracker." Five points out, "Now, I think our first team activity should be voting on whether we destroy it or take it out to bumfuck nowhere and ditch it to confuse the Commission."

"What the fuck is the Commission?" Diego barks.

"Man. Maybe I should just hit up Rick." Five muses, "This is going to take so much explaining."

"Who is Rick."

"So much explaining."

[uncouth-the-fifth]

imagine damian and the reader at the wayne gala. he gets jealous when he sees her flirting with someone else. he ends up pulling her into a bathroom and fucking her in front of a mirror while saying that other person can’t treat her like he does

and that’s how the reader finds out damian has feelings for her. all this time he acted like he hates her because he’s in denial

Title: More Than They Ever Said

Paring: Robin!Damian (18+) / Canary!Reader

Tags/Warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, bathroom sex, slight underage drinking (reader is like 20 lol), mentions of golf.

Word Count: 7150

Notes: sooooo.... this def evolved beyond a drabble lol. the way gala sex kills me every time 😭 I was a little mushy w Dami here bc I miss his sweet side. This also sounded a lot like goldenspecs12's request from Wattpad, so I hope you don't mind that I meshed the two together 😚 I leaned toward Damian liking the reader more than being in denial, but that’s the only thing I sacrificed between the two requests. This one is my fluffiest and most romantic yet 💖

"can I request Damian w a Queen reader, like she's Oliver and Dinah's child? say the reader is a hero but not very active, like she comes in when her parents can't. so when she and Damian meet, they hit it off. The main request is that they sneak away at a gala held by Oliver and the reader and Damian have sex."

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!

The party was more fun than you thought it would be.

Benefits were usually chalk-full of old, wealthy people that thought they made good conversationalists. The board members of Queen Industries were tired of Oliver trying to escape their claws, so you’d been recruited in his place. While your dad got to play minigolf in the penthouse’s massive party floor, you were confined to the lounge, playing up what an intelligent, capable business partner you’d be when you were CEO. Fellow businessmen gruffed about their plans with you while their wives cooed and drank, pinching your cheeks.

You thought that you’d hate it, but the attention and the praise was nice. It made you feel like you were helping your dad and your family’s company, which was constantly criticized and judged for it’s choice in CEO. Everyone called your father a lazy silver-spooned idiot, but he was one of the only men in Star City who actually cared. By the time you had Q.I’s biggest donors laughing out of their seats, Dinah’s hands slipped over your shoulders and you were kissed on the side of the face. Thank you, she mouthed, and your position as family support-beam was covered.

Since most of the benefit-goers were at least forty years your senior, you gravitated to your dad. From the penthouse’s upper balcony, you could see his friends circling around the tiny green mats they were using as a makeshift golf course. Usually, Ollie made sure his public persona’s aim was as garbage as his taste in drink was. But tonight, he played as Green Arrow, who never missed. Not once. Especially when it came to Bruce Wayne, who’s golf game was abysmal at best.

But like Oliver, Bruce was a new man tonight. It looked like he was ready to break out the batarangs any minute now. The two men were barely civil about the viciousness of their competition, and if the view of the game from the balcony was interesting, then from below it must’ve been the greatest show of fragile masculinity ever displayed. You had to make fun of them.

The only opening in the circle of men, who all had their hands on their chins as Bruce lined up his next shot, was by the floor-to-ceiling windows to one side of the game. Just one man stood there, hands in his pockets. You slid next to him, unbothered, and squinted at the game.

Everyone in the crowd was dead silent. Bruce was lining up his golf ball so it would roll into a mug a couple of feet away, so you helpfully provided, “A little to the left, Mr. Wayne.”

Your words overlapped with someone else’s. Where you had said Mr. Wayne, they had said Father. Then the man next to you was his son, but...

You would have never guessed it would be him.

Reasonably, you knew that Robin was Damian Wayne. Oliver could be a little loose-lipped at times, and by his judgment you’d been a teenager just a year ago - what could a twenty year old do to Batman’s secret identity? Not much.

Until you saw Robin without his mask.

Damian was achingly beautiful. He was your age, but he stood and talked like he was much older. There was an angle to his shoulder that made him seem astute and sexy. His eyes fixed on you when you spoke at the same time, and they were a surprising mossy color that jumped out against his tan skin, like plants flourishing out of rich soil. There was just enough blue in them to make him seem haunting. Any moment, you felt like he was going to corner you and whisper your future throatily in your ear.

Looking into them, those piercing eyes, for longer than a second made you want to blurt, “You’re much prettier without your mask.”

But that would expose his secret to every golf-loving idiot in earshot, so Oliver had been wrong. A twenty-year-old like you could do fatal damage to Batman’s secret identity, but for Damian, the short-tempered, snappish leader of the Teen Titans, you would risk anything.

Damian stared, and you stared. He squinted, wet his lips, then turned back to the game. This was your only acknowledgment that he recognised you. His voice was deeper, smoother, than you remember it. “Queen.”

You shifted in your shoes, almost laughing in shock. “...Wayne.”

The game grew boring and Damian didn’t say anything else, so you said nothing too, sneaking glances at him. The last time you’d spoken to Robin had been in costume, when he’d thanked you for assisting with a mission. He’d really been thanking you for standing up for him. You didn’t team up often with the Titans, but when you did, you found that they were unusually snappy and mean with their leader. Not necessary on purpose, but you could tell that Damian couldn’t take as many bites as he pretended to. Standing up for him had been a simple thing. The good thing to do. Now, with that look in his eyes, it almost felt like he still thought about it.

He must have, because the kiss you shared at the end of that mission had glowed with heat. To be fair, you both may have believed you were going to die (before the team pulled through and saved you), so it could’ve been a heat-of-the-moment thing. But this was Robin - if he didn't want to kiss you, he wouldn't. And yet he did.

You’d kissed. And the energy of that kiss lingered between you now, drawing you closer together, putting tiny smiles on your faces. He was cute. Cuter without that mask on.

You stood in the stupid golf silence, feeling foolish. Flirting with boys was much easier in fishnets. It didn’t help how fine Damian’s profile was. He had soft, feathery lashes that occasionally touched down on beauty marked cheeks. His lips were even fuller from the side, forever drawn in a curious line. And those eyes, when they caught yours and danced away again, were much too nice to hide behind a mask. You couldn’t get that thought out of your mind.

When Bruce finally made his move, you leaned in to whisper something to each other at the same time, accidentally knocking shoulders.

“I - apologies,” Damian flushed.

“Oh, um, my bad,” you rubbed awkwardly at the spot where you’d collided. “...You were going to say something?”

Damian’s eyes flicked to your fathers, then to you, unimpressed. He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “They’re awfully hypocritical, don’t you think? Father snaps at me everytime I use my skills in public, and yet he’s putting with perfect aim like it’s not the very same.”

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes and scooted closer, ducking your voice into the bubble between your bodies. “My dad’s the same way. Don’t aim in the house, he says, unless it’s him trying to beat Bruce Wayne.”

Your company’s shoulders turned sideways, leaning into you. His breath ghosted the hair on your neck, standing it on end, and again that silky voice sent tingles down your spine. Damian must change his voice as Robin, because he never spoke like this then. So huskily, so low.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

You watched him. He watched you. You ran your tongue over your teeth, and Damian subtly adjusted his slacks from his pockets.

At the same time, you asked each other, “Would you like to get a drink?”

_

Your hiding place was a loveseat in the lounge, between more businessmen and their ditzy heirs. The bartender was your family’s, so he smiled and turned down your request for a drink, courtesy of your dad’s strictness. Luckily, he didn’t recognise Damian. You watched him order it at the bar, his rings catching the light, the muscle in his arms peeking out from under his blazer.

“I think he suspected I wasn’t of age, so he only gave me one.” He took the place next to you, propping his ankle on one knee and lounging out like a panther. Damian offered the cocktail to you, once he’d decided the coast was clear. It was a cute gesture. “Is that acceptable?”

You fished a five dollar bill out of your purse. “Only if you take this for paying. Don’t think I didn’t see you try and sneakily get that past me.”

Damian scrutinized the bill, then you, somehow managing to be a smartass without opening his mouth. Instead of thinking about how nice it would feel to kiss the slight crease between his brows, you traded hands with him so the bill was in his and the drink was in yours. The gentle brush of you palm to his knuckles put way too many butterflies in your belly.

You talked about everything and anything. About home, family life, your cities. The best of it was when Damian dipped his head so only you could hear him, keeping your secrets close and your bodies closer. This was the only way he talked about Robin, so you circled back to any vigilante subject you could think of just so Damian would keep purring into your ear like that. Better yet, he was smart. Talking to him was engaging, and within minutes he'd entranced you, so you sat there talking for more than an hour. Around you, the party rotated and went on.

At one point, you took a drink of the cocktail and passed it to him to share. Damian placed his lips right where yours had been, licking up the cocktail salt and gulping it down slow, adam’s apple bobbing, like it wasn’t the taste of the vodka he was savoring.

Eventually, your bliss was broken. Damian was called over to his father, again, to discuss business, and he left you with your remaining cocktail and the memory of that mission. You couldn’t find a reason to move from your seat. When you’d realized that you and Robin had been led into a trap on that mission, it’d been too late, and your efforts to escape became more and more futile. All you could do was pray the Titans got to you on time. Robin had offered you his glove as the walls closed in, and you’d watched up-close as he assumed you were both about to die. The fear in his eyes was strange - like it was familiar to him. At the same time, you cupped his neck and he held your upper back, and you’d kissed fervently, sweetly.

Damian had put his forehead to yours, and promised even as the trap shrunk around you, “You were excellent. More excellent than they ever said.”

In the big picture, it was a strange last remark to make, and afterwards you’d been too happy about surviving to think about it. But in the moment, you understood. You were understood. Somehow, Damian had reached into your soul and gouged out the words you’d been dying to hear, from your parents, from anyone, and uttered them to you with burning conviction. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he meant it. Damian found you excellent. Someone, somewhere, didn’t think you were a failure.

Odd, how you’d never seen the face of the man you thought you’d die with (until now), and yet he saw you so easily. You watched him follow his father into the party crowd now, wondering. The Titans had saved you before you could ask what he’d meant. More importantly, before you could tell him the same. He was excellent.

_

Once you’d finished off your drink, you left it at the bar and grinned evilly at your family bartender. He rolled his eyes and slyly delivered you another, which, on your superhero schedule, would not have you drunk yet. Another heir to some big company was seated at your right, ignored by his father enough to look for some small talk with you.

He was one of the cute, nerdy types that were usually in awe of you. Girls, available girls, were typically rare at these kinds of parties, so he took you not having a boyfriend as permission to flirt with you. Unfortunately for him, your seat gave a perfect angle on Damian across the party floor. He was impressing the wives of Wayne business partners, who flocked around him like they’d flocked around you, pinching his cheeks. You could almost read their lips enough to guess what they were saying. What a handsome young man you are! Oh, Bruce must be so proud.

“...and then my father flipped over his kayak! Would you believe it? Two thousand dollars, thrown right in our family’s lake.” Your company snickered, howling at his own story.

You circled the rim of your glass, watching how Damian tried to teach some of the women phrases in Arabic. Unknown to them, they were some pretty funny swear words. It threw you into a bout of giggles, and the man next to you kept talking, spurred on by the noise.

The flock of hens around Damian receded, and his shoulders slouched in relief. That was cute, too. It wasn’t often that people understood how draining these parties were, but for people like you and Damian, it was a racetrack of endless, boring circles. Everything was a formality. Few things were genuine. Damian turned, and you caught his eye to let him know you were going to meet him. He nodded toward a side hall, his mouth a curious line again. If you looked at it long enough, it felt like a smile when he mouthed, escape?

Your company was still talking. He stopped when you grabbed his tie and planted a pity-kiss on his cheek, waving to him as you bounced away. “Sorry, kid. Not my type.”

_

You planned to bring Damian to the secluded balcony on the second floor to unwind, but instead, you were taken by the wrist and maneuvered into an empty powder room. It was colder than the steaming party air and smelled like champagne, with couches to sit on and mirrors to powder at. For a bathroom, the lights were warm and low. The noise of the party went quiet the instant the door was shut, like you and Damian had entered your own little world. No more circles. No more back and forth.

“Here,” Damian said, noting the mirrors. He tilted his head as he asked, like he was nervous, “Is this acceptable?”

“It is the ladies powder room, but I’ll give you a pass, since you’re cute.” You joked. Damian didn’t make a move to relax on one of the couches yet, hanging in front of you like there was more he wanted to say. There was more you wanted to say, too, but no good words came to mind.

But the silence wasn’t awkward. Again, Damian stared, and you stared. The glass he brought with him was set down. He put one fist on the counter beside the door, and like honey had been poured on your nerves, you realized how easy it would be for him to push you up against it. Kiss you senseless. Heat drooled off of him this close, and you wondered if he’d still lean in to whisper to you even if you were alone.

The lack of words drew to a point where something had to be said, anything, but his eyes felt so good on your skin and it was interesting to see him nervous. Something strange told you that Damian liked the silence, too.

You wet your lips with your tongue. Damian cleared his throat, and took a sip from his glass. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Between me and that guy?” You smiled gently, like you were reassuring him, and laughed to yourself. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen it, Damian. Poor kid really thought I was flirting with him. He’d totally convinced himself, it was hilarious.”

His profile was tense in the mirror, which you stole glances at to watch how the amber light played on his handsome skin. When Damian swallowed his drink, his throat rolled in the sexiest way, and immediately your mind fed you with visions of suckling, kissing, tonguing his neck.

“Why’d you ask?” Your eyes sparkled. Damian drew a step closer, and you used the opportunity to swipe a drop of alcohol from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You jealous?”

It was the touch or the suggestion that made Damian pause. He didn’t stutter, but lagged over what to say, eyes vast and wanting as they raked over your face. “I don’t get jealous,” he clarified, “but… I do intend to be the only man to kiss you tonight.”

Damian’s hand took your chin. Your belly exploded with instant arousal, hitting you like a bullet of liquid lust. “You’re the only man who’s kissed me like that,” you whispered, taking his tie in hand. “I hope that’s always true.”

His voice had gone throaty. “May I kiss you again?”

Again, he reminded you.The two of you had kissed before, and it had been spectacular, terrifying, and excellent.

“Please,” you said, and Damian rushed to your aid.

Not a moment more was wasted. Curling his tie into your fist, you drew him in, slow and deep and wonderfully. Damian’s cologne hit you before his lips did, and both made your core throb for friction. Two broad hands slammed your hips into the door. His fingertips smoothed up the fabric of your dress, pressing you back and squeezing you in until you could feel his belt buckle against your belly. Damian was a sweet, magnetic kisser, chasing your lips like he was on a crusade to save them. Each time they met, he swam deeper. The point of his nose bumped against your cheek. You hummed your laugh against his lips, and Damian groaned as he pulled away, readjusting, twisting, testing the limits of the kiss. And you followed him at every step or more, revelling in his taste.

You didn’t want him to think you wanted the kiss to end, so you drew the hands braced under his blazer around his neck. Soon, that didn’t feel close enough, so you cupped each side of his face and pecked Damian until you were breathless. He brought you in until your arms were flat to his chest, the kiss almost vertical in its intensity.

He groaned when you parted, gasping and blinking just inches from your face. Your mouths were still connected by a thick string of drool, which hung until it split and clung to Damian’s chin and fell, marking a wet strip down into his collar. You panted, watching it go.

Damian left your waist to hold your wrists, keeping your hands around his face. He settled warmly into your touch, basking in it, and the pure enjoyment on his face made you smile. You wondered if anyone else had cared for him like this. If Damian had ever felt someone hold his face and treasure it. The thought gave you a strange urge, so you followed it.

You brought Damian’s brow level with your mouth and sweetly kissed his forehead. Then his nose bridge, then his temples. His face was so quickly warm that you giggled. In the most unsubtle way possible, Damian drew back his hips so you couldn’t feel the heat there, and closed his eyes, begging you to continue.

“I want you,” you whispered against his jaw.

Damian shivered. “You have me.”

You shifted one hand to his shoulder, giving yourself more room to nuzzle and kiss his neck. The line of drool was still there, so you cupped his skin and tilted his jaw up, and in one stroke, licked all the way to his earlobe. Damian’s moan poured from his mouth like a growing flood. You even felt his thighs press together between you, and pleasure tingled in your throat when he choked at the glide of your tongue.

He released your wrists, reached beside you, and locked the door with an audible click.

Then, Damian devoured you. Both hands hooked around your back, arching your chest into his, and finally, bringing his bulge between your hips. You clung to him for dear life, helpless as his teeth pressed into your neck like a vampire. Damian fed like one, too, suckling the skin there like he was starved. Your panties were so wet that you were desperate to get out of them, grinding your core against his.

Damian retreated, gasping. He licked the spit off of his lips and glared into your eyes. Bluntly, he said, “I want to eat you out.”

Once more, you kissed him, delirious with excitement. Your lungs burned for air, but your core burned harder for him. “Take off that suit and you can do whatever you want to me.”

His eyes gleamed. “I plan to.”

Quickly, you shoved your hands into his sleeves and pushed them off his shoulders, giving you a crisp glimpse at his carved shoulders. Damian's fingers blurred from button to button, but he saved the last for you on purpose. You worked in tandem and with little thought. If he could, Damian would steal a kiss, and you would bite his lip and chase him into more. When that last button was popped, his white button-down parted for a gorgeous plane of hard-earned muscle. His abs, ribs and pecs were pockmarked with scars, shrapnel marks and in some places, bullet holes. You stopped.

At your staring, Damian pressed his lips together.

“It's.. not appealing, I know,” he monotoned.

“No,” you disagreed, palming his stomach, “it’s impressive. All these do is show how strong you are, how long you've survived. You're so… built...” you didn't hide your thorough examination of him, “...I mean, we have to be to do what we do, but still… It suits you. It's sexy.”

You worried you'd ruined the moment with your babbling, but he glimmered under your praise. Damian brightened in the way only Damian could, smirking devilishly and towering over you like a supervillain.

“Sexy?” He pressed his naked chest into yours, whispering hotly in your ear. You could feel his silk tie pinned between you. “Does that mean I'm your type?”

You rolled your eyes. “Eavesdropper.”

“Temptress,” Damian replied, just as easily.

To claim your title, you found Damian's belt and pulled on it until the clasp gave. It made a satisfying whipping noise as you ripped it off of him, shouldered into his space to grab his waist in one hand, and cupped his throbbing boxers in the other. Damian's sigh came hoarsely and wanton from his mouth.

“Fuck me,” you demanded, grinning with delight.

Instead of wasting time on a response, Damian fell to his knees, a faithful worshipper. He did the gentlemanly thing and helped you kick off your heels. The tile was icy on your bare feet, but it only mattered until Damian ran his hands up your thighs. Sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, he bunched it up your middle, peering up at you smugly through his lashes. You could feel the debauchery of it - Damian, on his knees, tie hanging still from his neck, pinning you to the door. You, your legs spread and wanting.

Damian sucked in a breath. Your panties had an obvious wet patch, put there by him. He thumbed it carefully, watching your brows tense and your eyes close, basking in your initial whine. All of it enchanted him. You were soaking because of him, trembling because of him, marked because of him. There was not one place he would rather be than here.

Damian collected your sweetness and sampled the taste on his thumb, trapping it behind his smug smile. He ran his tongue over his teeth, spreading the flavor around his mouth, savoring it. As Damian rolled your underwear down your legs, his cock twitched in his open fly. You were beautiful. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Put your leg over my shoulder,” Damian ordered, smirking, “I want to taste you.”

Warmth exploded in your cheeks. “G-go ahead.”

Gradually, you situated your leg across his back, pussy tensing at the touch of the cooler air. This didn't matter for long. Damian's warm lips nuzzled and kissed the thigh closest to him, painting messy reflective circles on your skin with his kiss. Even that made your legs tense wildly, so Damian shoving his wet, blazing tongue into the folds of you cunt pumped moan after moan from your mouth.

“Damian!” You yelped.

Oh, he definitely liked that. Damian pinched your ass and used his mouth so passionately that his head shook back and forth. He darted right for your clit, sucking it until his cheeks were hollow and humming smugly between your legs with every squeal. Parting your folds with one hand, Damian kissed your core just as dirtily as he'd kissed you. The dangerous glint in his eye never faded. He plunges his tongue inside you in earnest, slurping obscenely, purposefully. There's no need for Damian to shoot you cute looks or put on a show - his skill was the performance, because that skill was unbeatable. Your pussy was already tender, fucked nerveless by Damian's filthy mouth. He vibrated your cunt with a deep groan before he drew away, face dripping with slick like a pornstar’s.

“You're suitably wet,” he said, matter-of-factly, “would you like me to use my fingers?”

All the strength you had went into a weak, pleading nod.

Damian was polite enough to grant you your bearings first, letting you grip his hair and squeeze the counter before he resumes. You give him the sweetest, most precious whine when Damian licks you open again. He wisely starts with one finger and builds from there, earning you with pumps and curls of his digits. Damian's talents quickly become a currency, one that you exchange with mewls and pants of praise.

“So good,” you whine, “oh, fuck - fuck, just like that…”

Damian smirks between your legs, jamming his fingers faster into your sore pussy. Lust sizzles low in your gut, ramped up again and again by his thrusting. It’s so powerful that you roll and buck off the door, your hips in his face. You want him - want him more than you want anything.

“You're ravaging,” Damian hums between licks. His eyes are closed, but that only gives the way he touches you more meaning.

It’s so surprising from his mouth that your hold on his hair slips, setting Damian free. He pants, catching his breath, and it’s easily the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The effort has slouched him from his knees to his calves, further spreading his legs and opening up the fly of his pants. A solid bulge has formed and spilled out there, straining to escape his briefs like an arm in a sling that’s too small, way too small, for someone of his size. Three of Damian’s fingers are still twisting inside of you.

Slowly, Damian tipped back his head and hung down, arranging himself beneath your cunt. “So beautiful.” His free hand splayed where your leg met your hip. “May I touch you?”

“I-I get it’s the gentleman thing to do, to - to keep asking, but fuck, Damian,” you cursed, “you can do whatever you want to me.”

Damian’s intense jade eyes were so dilated that you could barely make out the color. He dragged his cheek against your thigh, fingers still circling inside you, and grinned like a shark. It was probably a bad idea to give the heir to the Demon’s Head that much power over you.

His other hand squeezed your skin, slow to passionate, from your belly to your breasts beneath your dress. It’s clear by the way Damian looks at you that he loves what he sees. The texture of his veiny, calloused hands feels good on your waist and ass, dragging you closer to him. He chuckles when your back arches, when your nails press into his hands, his back muscles, throwing himself into his task. Damian’s nose prods your folds as he licks you clean, tongue dipping and sliding against your sore clit. It’s like he’s done this for you before, in this exact way. Though he utilizes his tongue the most, his lips too are brutal, matched perfectly to fit your pussy lips.

But that tongue - how Damian’s jaw isn’t tired, you don’t know. He parts your folds and latches onto your clit, flicking his tongue at superspeed until drool and cum bubbles from your sensitive core. Your back winds tighter at every vibrating lick, paralyzing the muscles in your legs with glorious pleasure. It’s so exquisite you start to melt to the floor like warm clay, only to be bolstered back up by Damian, both hands viciously squeezing your ass. He keeps going not for you, but himself, sucking down every last drop of your juices.

Shattered, you twist hopelessly into his mouth, chasing the strained feeling like it’s the last you’ll ever glimpse. “Fuck, fuck - D-Damian, ah…”

“Did it feel good when I made you cum?” He teases, “It certainly tastes good. All those filthy little noises you make for me…” Damian shakes his head at himself, like it’s too fantastic to indulge again. He leaves your clit with a satisfied kiss. “Beautiful.”

Once more, the words are surprising to hear from him. You always considered Damian the prude type, but here he is, on his knees for you, mouth and chin glittering with your juices while he teases you in low, sexy tones. At your surprised look, Damian has the gall to blush.

With his ring finger in his mouth, he ponders, “If a man has never said that to you before...” pop, “consider me surprised.”

“Never while finger-fucking me, at least,” you admited, legs still trembelling. “It was sweet. You… you meant that?”

It was hard to imagine Damian Wayne finding anything beautiful. Even you, who was pretty enamored with him, figured he would judge by quality or skill, not beauty. The words tasted new on his tongue.

Slowly, Damian stood and stretched, his shoulders tight after staying in the strange position for so long. Lifting his arms coincidentally let his waistband sit lower on his hips, flashing his green boxers your way while showing off the huge, carved muscles of his arms. Truly, Damian’s subtlety was unmatched. You didn’t mind his miniature bragging fest - not when he had so much to brag about. Eating you out had put an excited shimmer in his skin, so the gold-toned lights of the room reflected sexily off his sweat, already accenting his kissable tan.

“I did,” he told you, moving on to his sucking middle finger. His other hand played on your thigh, stroking it. “I’ve always been… drawn to you. Every mission we’ve had together. I have a profound feeling that we are very similar.”

You laughed. Not at what he said, but the timing of it. “Would you believe me if I said I felt the same way?”

Damian made a face like his heart was doing jumping jacks. “A few hours ago? No. But now…” he barricaded you against the door, first with his hands and then his hips, closed in so tightly that you had to look past your nose to meet his eyes. “Your crush is adorably obvious. I’m annoyed that I didn’t see it before.”

Your rounded your hands against Damian’s shoulders, then his tie. It twisted nicely around your fingers, silky and cold in comparison to your flushed skin. You were tempted to fix your dress, but nothing, not even the world ending, could make you leave this room.

“My crush is obvious? Damian, all you’ve done for the last two hours is sneak me drinks and imply how much easier it is to be around me.” You grinned, “What’d you say earlier? There you are, Queen. Finally, someone intelligent enough to speak to me.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s true. Your knowledge of bioluminescent ocean life is fascinating.”

“I can’t believe you said that after giving me head for ten minutes.”

“It’s actually been closer to twelve,” Damian smirked.

Playfully, you pinched Damian’s cheek, then pulled him by the tie into a starved, energetic kiss. He must’ve been praying for your permission to continue, because the plan he’d been forming is quickly put into action. You’re hugged, arms scooped under your back as you kiss him. Damian surrenders his mouth to a bit of revenge tonguing while undoing your dress. No amount of kissing will pull him from his task, but your hand is a special case - it smooths down the front of his boxers and Damian melts.

“Y/N,” he groans.

Damian petulantly resists the temptation to close his eyes, but your touch is soft and sweet, demanding him to yield. Your lips suckle on his neck and Damian’s knees buckle. If getting his mouth between your legs didn’t turn him on, then this will finish him for sure.

“I missed you. Kissing you.” You purr into his throat. “One could never be enough for me.”

Is this what it’s like to be wanted? Damian asked himself. The only possible answer thrilled him, and he found himself pouring even more passion into the kiss, into you, wanting to share that rush of affection. You respond to his every touch with vigor. Damian’s heart stalls each time your thumb strokes his face, each time the other strokes him through his slacks.

“Me either,” he rasped, and helped you out of your dress. His tone was shy, but his words held too much depth to be meaningless. I want a wealth of them. I always want to kiss you, was what he wanted to say, but Damian was too embarrassed to raise the words. This moment was too special to ruin with his hopeless romanticism. He kissed you again and again, and to his amazement, you kissed him right back.

“Fuck me,” you begged him between breaths. “Right here. I don’t care if we’re caught.”

I don’t care if we’re seen together. I want to be seen with you, I’m not ashamed of you.

Damian cupped your face and almost knocked you both over with the strength of his kiss. Nose-to-nose, eyes closed, he commanded, “Bend over the fucking counter.”

In a blink, Damian turned and there you were, open and waiting for him. The sink was hip-level, so the bend was nothing but perfect - Damian could fuck you from behind and watch your lust-blown reflection without issue. Your perfect pussy drooled leftover cum down your legs, making your sex shine in the light.

In the mirror, you watched Damian’s eyes darken in delight. His pupils followed the line of your ass to your back, appreciating it like an artist would, like he intended to paint you later and needed to memorize the greatest shapes of your figure. The marble was icy against your hard nipples, which Damian had exposed when he’d impatiently shoved down your bra. Now, he cupped one of your breasts as he bent over you, kissing and suckling his way down your back.

“Perfect,” Damian hissed.

Shyly pressing your butt back against him, you buried your face in your arms and bit your lip, waiting for him to open you up. Damian’s shadow came to hover over you, and in the mirror his eyes were vicious, pools of circling sharks. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Take your time.”

Though you weren’t being sarcastic, Damian took it that way and pinched one cheek of your ass. “With you? I will.” Then, with the same smoothness, Damian asked, “Condom?”

“Pill,” you replied, and Damian nodded his approval.

His pants rustled as they fell down his legs. Where you couldn’t see, Damian committed the sight to memory - his cock in hand, your pussy spread open, all for him. You squeaked when his hot tip touched your cooling clit, and squeaked again when it glided down your pussy and tested your opening. He knew he’d found the way when you winced.

In an unsurprising moment of compassion (for those who truly knew him), Damian kissed the top of your head and offered you his hand. “Would you like to hold it while I…?”

You took his hand and squeezed it to your chest, squeezing him closer in the process, too. “Thank you. Go slow, for this part…”

Damian complied. His sweat-sticky chest hovered warmly over your back. Even if Damian was big, you were wetter than you’d ever been in your entire life - any pain would quickly slide into pleasure. He braced himself with a deep inhale, and a hot, sharp sensation told you that he’d entered you. Where you choked in a needy gasp, Damian poured out his version of a whimper. You both held it. Then, breath by breath, you were struck with the realization that you’d been dying to feel this for weeks, for months, and only now was that heat being satisfied. Damian’s tongue and fingers had come close, but this is what would cure that aching emptiness - his big, girthy cock.

The deathgrip you had on Damian’s hand loosened. “You look perfect,” he murmured into your hair, instantly making your core flutter. “Oh,” he chuckled filthily, “you like that? Funny, how badly that idiot at the bar wanted to be in my place right now…but it’s me who gets to pound into—”

“Damian,” you warned.

He smiled smugly against your neck. “Nothing.”

Dutifully, Damian withdrew his hips, taking all of the heat with him. When he rolled back in, a hot, tingling sensation roared over all of your senses, and you let the moan at the top of that tsunami loose. It was clear that he couldn’t fuck you like he wanted to with one hand fished down at your side, so he glued both to the base of your back and started to thrust in earnest.

“So full...” You mewled, and Damian became a human pile-driver.

Your head seemed to roll off your shoulders with every crazed, rhythmic slam, so you grabbed the faucet and held on for dear life. Every slap was so loud, so powerful, that you prayed this one random bathroom in the penthouse was soundproofed. Anyone walking past would know you were getting railed out of your mind. You tried to compensate by moaning and squeaking quietly, but with force came volume. It didn’t matter how silent you were, Damian’s hips, your ass, the squelch of him inside you - each noise filled the bathroom, echoing off the tile.

The only way you could think to describe him was filling. First, there was the hot, cinching tension of his hands fused to your waist. Then there was his cock, which begged to be squeezed more and more with every pass. You responded to each throb with a mighty clench, which bent Damian over you like an animal, gasping for breath. His balls were painted with your slick. The closer you came to orgasm together, the closer Damian came to you. His hands migrated to higher on your sides, then up by your shoulders, then around you, where Damian kissed your back and rubbed your belly while he made love to you. He talked more than he moaned. Your ear was filled with sweet nothings, with vicious promises of what he would do with a whole night alone with you.

Damian’s reflection was wild with lust. He met your eyes as he fucked you, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you take his dick. His deep green eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out the brown in them anymore. The long muscles on his arms drew taut with each thrust, making his biceps bulge and pin your hips to the sink. Soon enough, a bruise would form from the pressure. One of many treasures from tonight - you would be thinking about Damian in his crisp suit for months to come, and the mess he’d become with you now even longer. Your pleasure built and built and built, like a nail struck further into the ground with a hammer. A very, very big hammer.

“M’ cumming,” Damian husked, slowing his plowing to a sloppy glide. Even his endurance was spent, and you were glad he’d spent it all on you. “Where d’ you…?”

You braced your hands on the counter, then on one of Damian’s. Together, you smoothed his digits down your stomach and between your soft, abused folds. “Inside me, please, please please—” you begged him, “fuck, a-as deep as you can go.”

As a test of your flexibility, Damian turned in and kissed you. Just as he parted your lips with his tongue, he parted your folds with his fingertips, overriding your clit as his cock throbbed inside you to the hilt. He took the invitation as a command. Damian pressed in until you could feel his abs mold to your ass, then stuttered his hips in quick, agonized dips to get himself there. With his fingers and his cock putting stars in your eyes, you finished first.

The white marble counter fizzed in your vision, until all you could see was that powerful, endless white, humming in your mind’s eye. Still, Damian wasn’t finished yet. You bumped your temple against his chin and hummed, “Cum for me, baby… fuck, a-ah!”

Your pussy’s throb raced and raced until it spilled over, pulling Damian right under the current. One clench and he was done for, so the velvety, periodic squeeze of your cunt emptied his store. You hung there, spasming in unison, until that overwhelming heat spurted in a ring around Damian’s cock and flooded out of you. Only then did his fingers stop on your clit, and you settled warmly in each other's arms and tried to remember your names and who you were.

Damian pulled out, then snuggled back in. He would’ve been nervous any other time, but he’d just put his dick inside you, so a little instinctive cuddling could be forgiven. On shaky legs, you turned around and sunk into him. You could tell by how he was eyeing the sink that he was desperate to get clean again, so with one kiss (on the cheek), you set Damian loose.

In companionable silence, Damian cleaned up and you collected the clothes abandoned on the floor. Staring at the corner where you’d just had the best sex of your life put an embarassingly pleasant warmth in your chest. Interesting, how one terrifying moment could become something as special as this. Fascinating, how you’d felt like you’d known him all your life.

“You know… I think you’re excellent, too.” You told him, finishing off the knot for his tie.

Damian dipped his head to hide his smile, but something so bright was impossible to hide.

[shelby-love]

HARGREEVES SIBLINGS

What Brings us Together: Funerals

Requested: yes [x]

Prompts: none

Warning(s): none

Word count: 3.5K

Author’s note: I hope this is what you wanted. You didn't specify what kind of interaction we should have w our siblings so I just went off what was most realistic. Luther is a b of course, that's just how he is at the beginning lol. Don’t think I hate him though! p.s. so is diego we know he wasn’t really nice to vanya in the beginning :(

~

You sighed heavily through your nose, gathering your brows in distaste at the building standing tall in front of you. The Umbrella Academy looks as imposing as ever, making you remember just how much it once scared you when you were a kid.

Time went by and you became an adult. Someone with common sense, living an ordinary life far away from your once bright future that suggested money and luxury. Of course, when you’re informed of your father’s passing through a TV screen, it’s mandatory to show up and pay your respects.

You snorted at the rogue thought. “Bastard.”

Seeing your siblings after so many years of being apart made you feel anxious. Your father and his ashes weren’t the cause of your sweaty hands. It felt weird. Too weird.

But you ignored the feeling and called out your inner adult, placing one foot in front of the other and walking straight through the two-winged doors.  

Your eyes fell on every surface of the academy, sweeping over every object while doing so. The number of memories, good and bad, that this place held was uncountable. But life, alas, is too short.

Your father a true example.

You gazed at the portrait with no emotion, looking at the picture of your father and siblings with a crooked smile of sadness. The tips of your bare fingers flickered with energy, and you fought the urge to curl them into a fist and punch a wall.

But your father's voice rung through your head, what you've been taught all your life bucking into instinctive actions. "You must know self-control Number Eight. You lack of it will be your downfall. Now put your gloves back on!"

You were 4 when those words big words started to leave his mouth, and you never heard the end of it. Not until he died.

You uncurled your fists, took a deep breath and felt the energy cave in.

"Y/N? Is that you?"

The sudden sweetness of a voice that belonged to your sister travelled into your ears, so quietly you almost didn't hear her. Your eyes widened slightly, and when you turned around – for a moment you didn't know what to do. The girl had turned into a celebrity, and you wondered if that had changed her in any way.

"Allison?"

She took a few sharp steps your way and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in a bone-crushing hug you returned immediately.

"You're not wearing your gloves," she took note, looking tentative to touch you for a second after pulling away.

"I don't need them anymore," you stated proudly.

Your father graced you with leather gloves at the age of 4, telling you to never take them off. That in a way, you and the powers you possessed were a danger to your siblings. The dark leather gloves weren't comfortable, in fact, they felt suffocating every time you wore them. Because that's how silencing your powers feels like. Suffocating. For a second too short, you had wondered what Allison felt like. Not being able to use her voice for what it was made for.

"Well, I'm happy for you," said Allison, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "You never really liked them."

"No," you agreed with a mumble. "No, I didn't."

The two of you walked out of the hall and into the living area, legs paired with pace.

"Where is everyone?" You asked her quietly, your eyes inspecting an antique you knocked over as a kid more times than you could count.

"Diego is here, somewhere," she mused, and you raised your brows ever so slightly in surprise. "He has this weird hero complex, so he's out saving the world, I guess. Apart from us three, no one’s here yet."

"Do you know when he'll be coming back?" You wondered out loud, watching her give you an odd look a second later. "I haven't seen him in years, Allison. He's my brother."

A part of you wanted to tease her about Luther by saying that not everyone is into what they were, but you withheld it and instead locked your eyes onto your other brother.

Number Five.

"I missed you Y/N."

You smiled at her quiet voice, "Missed you too Ally."

***

"You know if I was murdered, and if one of my sons...adopted sons... happened to be able to commune with the dead, I might think about, I don't know, I don't know...manifesting!"

You attempted to stifle your laughter as you watched Klaus prance around your father's ashes in an attempt to talk to him. He wasn't sober, so you doubted it would work.

But it was pleasantly nice to see him try at least.

"I don't think he wants to talk," you interrupted him mid-vent.

You watched as his pacing stopped, his demeanor switching from crazy to collected in the seconds it took your voice to be heard. Klaus turned around slowly, beaming from one ear to another. "It's you! You're alive!"

His scream of joy brought a wide smile to your lips, and you rushed to his arms. Both of you screamed like little kids, telling how much you missed each other and how tragic life has been without one another. Making jokes on your dead father's account was overly present too.

"And you're high!" You squealed in delight, ruffling his crazy looking hair.

Klaus pulled away at that, swaying in a matter that looked like he was stretching before a run. He pointed his thumb at the ashes, "Dad's too stubborn. He won't talk to me."

"Did you try begging?" You asked amused.

"I-I guess…" He mumbled before groaning. "I'm too sober for this!"

Then his eyes snapped to you and a pout drew on his face. Klaus went to stand in front of you, grabbing your hands in his and placing them on his chest. "Y/N…"

You rolled your eyes but didn't remove them, "Yes, Klaus?"

"I was just wondering if you," He said gingerly. "You know…"

This time you did pull your hands away but placed them on his face. Teasingly you squished his cheeks like you used to when you were kids. "You want me to give you money, so you can go get high because your childhood trauma of being locked in a mausoleum catches up to you every time you're sober? Of course, I will. How much do you need?"

It took him a second to process your words. "Oh my God really?" Klaus whispered, almost as if he didn't believe that was happening.

"I tried it your way when I left -" you explained, pulling out your wallet and glancing at his stunned expression. "- to suppress my powers. It didn't work, and I continued to suffer. If that's what it takes for you to not suffer from them, I'll gladly help."

You handed him a wad of money but when he tried to take them you pulled away, "Just…be careful Klaus."

"Yeah of course I will," he replied absentmindedly before he turned his head to the side. "Shut up."

You furrowed your brows, "Did you say something Klaus?"

"Oh no, no, no, no, no," said Klaus quickly, a little too quickly. "I didn't say anything."

You hummed but swore you had caught him swing his leg at something too.

"Well, if that’s all…" you murmured, "I'll leave you to it then, I gotta go see Mom. Don't say hi to dad from me, okay? Don't you dare Klaus."

The sibling only saluted, turning around to get back to trying to reach your dad, securing the money into a pocket in his skirt.

"Hey! Wait!"

You stopped and turned back around. Klaus waved his hands at the big lone fireplace. "Can you do that thing, please?"

By that thing, he meant to say start the fire. You shrugged and walked back to the fireplace. The amount of time you lit it up for your siblings was infinite. It felt weird to do it now even though you light your fire at home with your powers all the time.

Fire comes out of your hands quickly and with ease in the shape of a golden ball, igniting the lone fireplace within seconds. You watched the inferno you created in a daze, only breaking out of it when Klaus came to stand in front of the fire to warm up.

"Love you Klaus."

"Awww I love you too sis."

You shook your head, turned and left the room.

***

"Heard you came from the moon." You mused, "Thought I'd stop by and see for myself."

When word spread that Luther was on the moon, you didn't quite believe it. Then you found out that he too came back to send your father off to the lands of the dead, and you just had to see him and ask for yourself.

It was no surprise to find him in your dad's office of all places, although at first glance he did look like an intruder. You felt yourself stiffen at the sight of a big man in a coat, looming over your father's desk imposingly. Power surged through your veins, and it took everything in you to stop it from overflowing in fear.

When your brother met your face, you exhaled in relief and a single candle lit in the room as a result.

Luther seized it, looking impressed. "You've gotten better."

"Cut the crap Number One," you snapped suddenly, the tone mainly coming from the fact that your powers activated because of the fear that came from seeing a completely new version of your brother. "First of all, what happened to you? I thought Diego would turn out like that, not you."

He shrugged his massive shoulders.

"Second of all," you began. "What are you doing in dad's office?"

"Nothing," he said quickly.

Luther might look big and dangerous but the creases in his face give you all the answers you need. "You haven't changed a bit," you mused, leaning against the door. A part of you still felt young and that made you respect your father's words a little more by staying put. "Save for the…" You pointed to your torso for reference.

Luther noticed the way you eerily stood at the doorstep, contemplating whether to enter and break his word. "He's dead you know."

You shot him a look, "I know that."

"So, why don't you come in?"

You contemplated to come in, but in all honesty - nothing was of interest. You would much rather like to interrogate Luther and his whims. 

"Is Allison really the only person you care about?" You asked him instead, the bubbled feelings you've been holding inside threatening to spill. It was rather hostile, the way you two met after years of not seeing each other. A big part of you felt angry at him for not calling you when things obviously went wrong somewhere. His body wasn’t a result of something natural, and you knew it. "I mean this as a sibling. Let's ignore the weird thing you two have for each other."

"We don-" he started, your seizing eyes stopping him mid-sentence. "Is it that obvious?"

You sighed, "Look Luther, I'm just trying to say…"

"No, you're accusing me."

"Of what?"

"You left. All of you."

You snorted, "You really want to do this right now?"

"I don't see why not."

"You're looking for something," you said instead, completely ignoring his words. "I won't help you find it nor will I try to lie if you ask me if I have it."

His ears perked, "Dad's monocle."

You chuckled, "That lame thing he always wore?"

Luther nodded.

"Why do you need it?"

"You said you wouldn't lie."

"I'm not lying Luther, I just asked you a question!" You told him. A thought washed over you when his eyes pinned you in, and you could barely even grasp it. "You think I killed him, don't you?"

"I didn't say that." He tried to reason, although he didn't move from around the desk to try and soothe you.

"You didn't have to," you said quietly, feeling tears gather in your eyes. "I see the way you look at me, brother. Ever since I hurt her-"

"Don't talk about her," he stopped you.

"Why the hell not?!" You exclaimed, "She's my sister you know. Our sister. You keep forgetting that."  

Luther stayed silent after your outburst, probably contemplating whether to apologize, but you cut him from speaking before he could even start. "We were 7 Luther. I didn't know what I was doing. You think I wanted to take the air out of her lungs? She was going to rumor me Luther. I was scared."

It didn't really matter how much you repeated it to him, he never understood. His love for her goes beyond siblingship, as weird and disturbing as it was. Whoever hurt Allison became a monster in his eyes. "But anyway. I didn't steal that ugly thing. You can cross me off your list."

You looked around the office, ignoring the way Luther stood silently. The lack of light was obviously making it difficult for him to sniff around. You raised your hands in the air, watching as the tips of your fingers turned into flames. A satisfying sight, but a sight you didn't want to look at currently. With a swipe of your hand, you controlled the small blazes until they broke apart and landed at the candles, lighting up the room, so Luther can see. "Hopefully this helps."

You walked away from the office after that, not daring to look behind yourself in fear of breaking down.

***

You stomped across the academy, anger flowing off you in waves. Having your emotions tied to your feelings was never fun. The chandelier above you swayed under the wind that came from your anger and candles burnt out, the fire that came within them disappearing into your body.

"Y/N?"

Suddenly, the wind stopped, but your lip started to tremble instead. "Vanya?"

When you turned around, she stood awkwardly at the door. With hands in her pockets she glanced between the shaking chandelier and you.

It was obvious that she was uncomfortable, at least until she saw your relieved smile. "Is that really you?"

She smiled, "I-I guess."

You outright laughed, the outcome of Luther and yours argument disappearing from your mind completely when you hugged her. "I missed you so much."

"You did?" She asked surprised.

"Why wouldn't I?" You asked her, confusion crossing your features. "You're my sister. Come here."

You brought her into the hug again, feeling her hug you tighter this time.

"You're not mad at me?"

Remembering what she was talking about had you cringing ever so slightly in discomfort. You scratched the back of your neck, "I mean… I was. But not anymore, Vanya. I'm all passed that now."

"You are?" She asked, hopeful.

"I am," you nodded in confirmation. "We're here to say our goodbyes to Dad. You have every right to be here, no one can tell you otherwise."

Vanya stayed silent, so you quickly added, "And the book was good. Exposing, but good. I like your way with words."

She snorted, "Yeah I thought you would."

Beaming, you slung an arm around her shoulders just like Allison did when you first came. Unfortunately, in your dysfunctional family, no one has peace for long. Diego came striding down the stairs in his black spandex suit, looking as he just came out of an action movie.

Seeing you had his smile growing by a mile, but upon glancing at Vanya the easy smile vanished and was instead replaced by a scowl. "You're still here? I thought I already told you. You don't belong –"

"Diego," your hand raised in the air to halt his mouth. "Now's not the time."

He let out a humorous laugh, walking up to you to give you a kiss on the cheek. You didn't fight it, instead letting him kiss your cheek and squeeze your shoulder as a greeting after not seeing each other for years. "Good to have you back sis."

"Enjoy it while you can," you said. "Because I'm leaving the moment dad's ashes are spread."

"Oh, I bet," he mused. "I'm leaving too. You should go now Vanya, save us the trouble."

"Okay Diego that's enough," you interrupted, standing closer to Vanya this time round, hoping she sees your support through mere change of standing. "Why don't you run along and go save lives? I heard that's your life's call."

He rolled his eyes before glancing at your outfit. "That's an awfully bold color for a funeral."

"That's because I'm not dressed yet," you rolled your eyes. "Now, if you don't have anything nice to say, I suggest you leave before I boil you."

Knowing you don't give out empty threats, Diego nodded grimly and disappeared upstairs, not giving Vanya a glance of acknowledgement. "You know, maybe he's right… I should just go."

You shook your head immediately, "Absolutely not. Look Vanya, your book might've not been the best thing that's happened to us, but it certainly isn't the worst. He's just being snappish. That's Diego's factory setting."

She laughed, this time giving you a smile. Not a fake smile, but a real one.

You felt victorious as you wrapped your arm around her again, leading her into the living area for a catch-up.

***

"Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?"

You and Klaus held to each other like little kids, not believing what, or who, stood in front of you. The little carbon copy of your long-lost brother swore under his breath, shocking you to the bones with the word ‘shit’. "I'm not high, am I?"

"I-I don't know," said Klaus awkwardly, "Do you feel high?"

"Klaus she's not high," Diego interrupted, standing in front of the group with Luther.

"You never know with her," Klaus tried to explain.

"Five is that really you?" You asked, ignoring the bickering that went all around you.

"Of course, it's me!"

"Oh God Klaus they even sound the same," you whispered, clutching Klaus' hand tighter.

"Look I don't have time to explain this all to you," the boy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose like an old man.

"The hell you do," Diego mumbled, eyeing him with menace.

Number Five (if that was even him) rolled his eyes and tried to push through and walk right past you. No 30-year-old - despite how shocked and curious they were - tried to stop him.

Save for you of course.

A lone vine flew from the wall under your command, wrapping itself around your brother's wrist in a vice-grip. Five eyed it nonchalantly, as if the sight amused him rather than intimidated him. "You do know I can walk right through that?"

You dared him with your eyes and mocked him with your mouth, "You do know that you've been gone for 17 years? I've evolved little man."

He bunched his brows together, almost as if he didn't believe you. To test his theory out, he urged his body to travel through space. You all watched as he walked straight through the air, coming out on the other end in a different part of the yard, not being able to move due to the vine's grip despite having travelled through literal space.

"Cute!" Five called out, walking back toward you using his power. "Now let me go."

"And why would she do that?" Luther asked, the inner Number One in him surfacing.

"Because I've got work to do."

"Five you're a kid literally," Allison objected, gazing over your brother's tiny body.

"You don't understand…"

"Maybe he needs a nap," Klaus mumbled next to you.

"I don’t-"

By not literal smoke was almost coming out of his little ears, his face reddened from anger, and he looked annoyed beyond understanding. "They're too young… I knew it."

You creased your brows, not understanding why Five was mumbling weird things into his chin. "You alright Five?"

He glared at you, "I will be… Once you get this thing off me."

You shrugged with a sigh, mumbling an okay and hauling the vine away from Five who shook his head in irritation. He wrapped a hand around his sore wrist, massaging it with his thumb to get read of the soreness. "Can't say I missed you and your crazy plants. Although you would've been a great addition to my adventures."

"What adventures?" You asked confused. "You’re 13."

Five sighed, brushing you all off with a sway of his hand.

Klaus was the first one to dash back into the house mumbling something about not being able to handle the weather, Allison following behind him carefully. Luther, who looked like a lost puppy, followed after your sister until it was just Vanya, Diego, Five and you left.

"I'm going to head inside," said Vanya awkwardly, disappearing inside quickly.

Diego gave Five a sideward glance but shook his head and left too.

"Elemental manipulation is exactly what we need to fight it."

You rolled your eyes, not quite believing that he forgot how elemental manipulation isn't your favorite thing. "Fight what Five?"

"The apocalypse."

"I'm glad you're back bro, seriously I mean it," You told him sincerely, "But you're crazy. I'd say get some help but…"

MASTERLIST

~

Here is the link to my tag list masterpost! If you want to be added to one of my existing tag lists (or perhaps new ones) let me know! :) 

✭ GENERAL TAGS (all WIPs): 

@fofisstilinski @short-potato @miranda0102​ @httphiddlestan @caromichaela @xx-missunicorn-xx @jemmakates @theravenclawmarauder @tclaerh @chefdoeuvre @just-arather-veryconfused-being @crazy0lu @thirstykpophoe @abimoon @sofiasamps @princxss-fia @theletterhart 

 ✭ THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY: /

[sigritandtheelves]

I hope we have a Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa miracle (throwing all the religious holidays out there) and maybe have a new chapter of Simple?!? Pretty please?!!!🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

how about... um... Martin Luther King day? or something? lol sorry, i tried

Simple

Chapter 11

Other Chapters:  One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten

PG-13 | 1.8k wds | pre-XF AU | MSR, Melissa/Samantha

A/N: For what it’s worth, I do plan to finish this. Thank you to folks who have continued to ask about this story. The inspiration comes in very small flashes, but there is a trajectory toward some kind of ending, even if I’m not so great at getting there quickly.

_+_

March 18, 1990 - Alexandria, VA

He trailed fingers along her salty back and watched her breathe. She seemed to have hardened in the weeks since he saw her last: her muscles had firmed, her bones sharpened. She was making herself a stone that would not crack under pressure at the FBI, he supposed, but she was smoothed out and loose-limbed now across his sheets. “I love you,” he whispered to her sleeping form, just trying out the words again. She did not stir. She slept much harder than he.

Fox made himself a pillow and pulled her to lay against him. Dana moved willingly enough, despite the depth of her slumber. She made only soft murmurs with strawberry lips, rubbed her cheek on his chest and hooked her knee over his hip. He held her with both arms and felt the cogs of some great universal wheel settle back into place. Dusk turned to night. He let himself drift with her, though it wasn’t late.

When he moved upward out of slumber some minutes or hours later, her fingers were in his hair and his head was heavy on her breasts, his jaw pressing stubble into the skin over her sternum. He pressed his lips to her skin instinctively as he woke, smelled sleep and sweat and the remnants of some clean powder or soap. He murmured, tasted her, and listened to her breath catch in her throat.

Raspy and low, she asked, “You awake?”

“Mmhmm, getting there.” He lifted his head to meet her eyes in the dim. She smiled at him, blinking sleepily, raised her hand to curl fingers along his jaw. He thought how this was all he really needed, how he could muster the will to battle human monsters forever if she would be the engine of his determination and his refuge. We will be each other’s strength, he thought. Counterpoints and balances, science and intuition. He moved to let her body slip over his, to hold him firm in his place while she kissed him.

“This is right,” she said when she’d broken the kiss.

“It is,” he assured her, hands on her hips, drawing small circles with his thumbs.

She bent her head again, but instead of another kiss, pressed her forehead and nose to his. “It’s love,” she whispered. “I love you.”

He felt the words like the tingling of nerves coming back awake. They felt strong, like forged iron, like truth. Whatever happened, this would be their bedrock. Her knees slipped to either side of his hips and he said the words back to her before his lips pressed to hers again.

—

April, 1990

The machinations of select men, his father included, brewed alongside the presumption of Fox’s settled love. There were other hands at work, fingers steeped in a project content to murder children and scrape the wombs of women under the guise of great sacrifice for an even greater purpose. He neither knew nor wanted anything of these plans, yet they irrupted around him like weeds connected to some vast underlying structure. Beneath his feet, the sidewalk was beginning to crumble.

In Arlington, Fox confronted his father about the upsetting conversation he’d had with Diana Fowley: cases the State Department wanted him working on, connections to something bigger.

“Roping you in, are they? I should’ve figured.” The older man settled in his armchair and gestured for Fox to sit on the sofa across from him. The air held the faint scent of bourbon but there was none in sight now.

“It wasn’t you?”

“Me? No, not me. I didn’t want you involved, that’s why I left.”

Fox considered this. He’d thought his father left because Teena Mulder threw him out. Or dragged the kids away and told him never to come after her. He felt something like an uncomfortable itch, a call to remember something buried deep in the past: dinner parties with strange men and a handful of wives, Fox and Samantha sneaking glances from the stairwell. “But you know these people.”

Bill Mulder grunted.

“What do they want from me?”

The old man rubbed his chin and looked at the ceiling. “To use you, most likely. Or to pull you in, get you to do something they can use against you. It’s a dangerous game, Fox, and one you shouldn’t play.”

“Dangerous to me?”

He nodded. “To you and to everyone you love.” He looked over his son, half squinted at him. “You got a girl?”

Fox swallowed and felt something cold in his belly. Dana was in Stanford, finishing her last two months before FBI training and residency at Quantico’s labs. Her family knew about their relationship, but he and Dana were hardly flaunting it in front of State Department officials. “Why should that matter?”

“These are old men with old ideas, Fox. They see a woman as a vulnerability, a means to get at you and nothing more.”

Fox thought back to the panic in Diana’s face when he’d rejected her invitations to the case. The vague coldness in his gut turned to dread. You’ve no idea, she’d said. She’d been afraid. He dropped his face into his hands and rubbed at his eyes.  “They don’t know this woman. She’ll be FBI soon.” But even as he said the words, they felt hollow. Fowley was FBI too.

“Doesn’t matter.” His father’s words were terse, almost angry. “You can’t have anything to do with them, Fox. Their game will ruin you, just like it ruined me.”

A future that Fox had been half envisioning—he and Dana in a little house in Virginia, polishing their guns together, sharing notes over spaghetti and meatballs, making love on the couch in front of bad movies, maybe even, someday, ending up with some precocious, brown-haired and freckled Mulder babies—all of it seemed naïve now. She’d worried that her relationship with him could make her vulnerable, and she might have been more right than she knew. The thought of pushing her away, though, was impossible. He could no more do that than he could perform open heart surgery on himself. But the thought of putting her in danger felt no better. “What do I do?” He asked.

His father sighed, as if he had no great answers either. He’d ended up this way, after all: alone. “Fly straight,” he said after a moment. “Do good work. Keep your hands out of any messy business, and maybe they’ll leave you alone.”

Fox thought back to a strange case he’d worked the year before, to the way he’d been used to catch a woman named Susan Modeski and the three mismatched men who’d tried to uncover the government’s lies. Could he make himself complicit with that? Could he walk on with blinders, knowing others were being hurt, just to save his own skin? To save Dana’s? He nodded at his father, though he was nowhere near sure. He stood, somewhat awkward, and held his hand out to his father. “Thanks, Dad.”

The old man shook it and nodded back at his son, but did not get up to see Fox out.

—

“You tried to push me away to protect yourself… maybe you were right.” Fox held the phone to his ear in the dark, sucking on his third beer and feeling miserable.

“Don’t do that. Don’t make me a victim or a pawn.”

“What if they try to hurt you, Dana? To get to me?” God, it made him sound so self-absorbed.

He heard Dana’s breathing change, sensed her frustration building. “I won’t be some damsel, Fox. I’ll have FBI training. I’ll know how to protect myself.”

He winced, not knowing how to make her understand. FBI training wouldn’t matter if they were always three steps ahead. “What if it’s not enough?” Fox thought about his father. He’d always thought of him as a terrible man, but what if he’d only been protecting them? “Maybe my father pushed my mother away to save our family.”

“And you want to push me away, too?”

He shook his head, which swam with the effects of the beer. “No.” He was emphatic. “No, I don’t want that.”

His words seemed to ease her tension somewhat, and her voice was gentler when it came back through the line. “So what do we do?”

He breathed and thought of her face, felt the depth of their connection and its surety. The path cleared in front of him. He would begin with whatever truth he could get his hands on, but he would not act on it. He would talk to those three men but play dumb for the FBI. He would follow Fowley’s lead, but not let himself be caught in a trap. “Right now, nothing. You finish your term and come back to me. Then you start your time at the Academy, and we’ll be careful, okay? We’ll be careful.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Okay,” he said, like he was reassuring them both. “It will be okay.”

May, 1990

In a Baltimore fertility clinic, Melissa Scully overcame her resignations—hesitations based on some sense she could not name—and purchased donated sperm for Samantha, who swore to her that lesbians had been doing this for years. She’d been warmed by Fox and Dana’s reconciliation, grateful for siblings and would-be in-laws, full to the brim with the feeling of family. She kissed her love, held her hand while the doctor performed the quick procedure.

“What’s next?” Samantha asked, knees still in the air. Melissa squeezed her fingers.

“Well, now you wait a few weeks and take a test,” the doctor said. “Just like most folks. You can follow up with your own OBGYN.”

“It’s that easy?”

The doctor smirked. “Well, for some people it’s even accidental. You can head out to the front in about five minutes. Just get changed and meet the nurse at check-out.” Then she walked out of the room, leaving the two women alone.

Samantha brought her hands to her face to cover her grin, brown hair spilled out all around her on the paper of the exam table. She laughed and Melissa couldn’t help but smile too. “Did we really do this?” Samantha asked.

“Seems like it.”

Samantha peeked between her fingers. “It doesn’t feel real.”

Melissa bent to kiss Sam’s head and began collecting up her clothes. “Let’s give it a few weeks,” she said, though she had a sense of fate’s tumblers clicking into place. A February child, like Dana, if this worked. A little pisces maybe, lord help her. Another dreamer in the house. Sam sat up and began tugging on her underwear, careful to line it with a tissue first. She made a face at Melissa and laughed again.

Had Samantha’s last name been on the forms to set off the alarm bells of those same complicit men Fox was determined to avoid, things may have gone differently. Perhaps worse. But the families were deeply entangled now, and one sister-partner was as good as another to those men. A plan unfurled, rolled out like a carpet before them, and each stepped to a place on its pattern.

— end chapter 11 —

[vaguely-concerned]

The Untamed Liveblog

Yes hello I watched the whole thing and wrote down some of my thoughts and feelings along the way so I wouldn’t fuckign EXPLODE! Only look under the cut if you’re prepared for a truly outrageous amount of rambling (...no really)  

- I am elated to find that so far every adaptation I’ve seen has faithfully preserved the absolutely bizarre structure of the original book, I am appreciating the dedication haha

- the actor lends this version of lan wangji such an edge of youth and vulnerability right from the beginning, it breaks my heart. I don’t care how good he is with a sword, you can’t expose this pure sweet boy to the horrors of war!!! 

- I am so glad I already know who all these characters are and wtf is going on, I can’t imagine watching this first time without that knowledge lol 

- I love how they’ve made nie huaisang look so small and soft next to all the other cultivator, he looks like a floofy and eternally confused baby birb ;______;

- nhs citing the goldfinch as the reason he doesn’t want to die (presumably because no one will know to take care of it) TOT ur meant to be comic relief in this part of the story buddy you can’t make me cry like this yet!!!

(also the actor for wwx effortlessly sliding into being protective and reassuring and Good in a crisis. wonderful!)

- the actor for xue yang has chosen to go with the sexy baby school of evil acting normally associated with female villains and for that I can only applaud him

also setting up characters who are going to be important later on is something this show is doing better than the original haha, both the extra wen quing & ning and song lan & xiao xingcheng content is appreciated. (especially the latter suffered from ‘oh yeah those two -- actually wait who the fuck are these two again’ syndrome for me when I read the book. additional note: I am very sorry but clearly they are gay there’s no other explanation here)  

- poor jiang cheng, they really haven’t given him much help in this huh. I would sort of have preferred it if they let him be ever so slightly less abrasive in the beginning, like in the book and the animated version; I’m not feeling quite as devastated over this relationship as I did in either of those.

- lan xichen’s soft knowing smile is a blessing every time. just a nice man. did not deserve this. protect.  

- kudos to the actor for jin guangyao for the instinctive creeping unease I feel whenever he talks, even at this stage. he’s a wrong ‘un sir he’s a wrong ‘un

- y’know both the fact that nhs spent three days catching a bird and kept it with him undetected and that he’s the friend you go to for the good porn and managed to not only smuggle it into the cloud recesses but did so without getting caught... some wonderful subtle foreshadowing here (to make up for the very blatant visual foreshadowing that’s already been given out I assume lol)

- anyway lan ancestor lady and baoshan-sanren? gay. sad and gay. (I love how thoroughly wwx is getting to meet the in-laws btw lol how often do you have to meet your future spouse’s family from like three generations ago and take care of her rabbits for her after she’s gone, all before you even get to second base)

- fkadshfkasjdlhfsdjkfh the sheer consistency of nhs wistfully commenting on all the beautiful men surrounding him fsadfkjsdhfksd I think they might oh so subtly be hinting at some stuff here. HILARIOUS that this version, which has to maintain at least the veneer of some plausible homoerotic deniability, is a lot more overt about it than the book, which is free to be balls to the wall as gay as you please  

- oh no nie mingjue just showed up my entire heart is on fire. BIG BROTHER!! so stern yet fair, so righteous, so worried y______y also can we talk about how his ‘hmmm I think imma stab it?’ approach to evil in general and xue yang in particular would have saved everyone a lot of grief later on? and he tells wwx the whole necromancy thing is probably not a good idea? (I really like how he does it too, he has so much Older Brother Energy it spills over when he talks to other kids around huaisang’s age lol. it’s good that they show his temper isn’t indiscriminate at all, he’s not angry at wwx even though his idea is provably incredibly dangerous) sole ornery voice of reason nie mingjue, also did not deserve what’s about to happen, I cry and my tears are blood  

- ‘yeah okay I get that you’re mad but have you maybe considered... I didn’t do it?’ is an unusually weak opening move from jgy considering nmj literally did just see him absolutely 100% do it

- there should be a WARNING at the beginning of episodes where nmj cries so one could be PREPARED for the emotional devastation!!!!! tollest & stronkest man of the cast also stupidly pretty and heartbreaking while crying, it’s not fair

- I love how every cultivation sect’s home (except for the wens b/c they’re cartoon villains) is refined and beautiful and luxurious, even when it’s in a restrained way like the lans’... and then there’s the nie place which is like ‘please understand that this is a fuckn fortress’

- aww this doomed jiang cheng/wen quing thing is cute! too bad about... everything that’s about to happen happening huh

- oh wen ning.  very hilarious that he’s known as the ~*ghost general*~ forevermore when actually... he is baby... cinnamon roll baby... too good for this world, too pure...

- how is this cgi turtle somehow less egregious than the one in the animated version lol. I quite like this bad little friend! long neck.

- oh NO lan wangji finally letting himself show that he’s in pain when they’re in private... i’m uwu  

this beautiful boy is so long and lanky tho, I must admit he triggers my parental instinct more than the hot boy alert at this stage (but that’s fine I’m not the one who’s going to smooch him that’s wwx’s job lol)

the look of absolute disbelief and despair lwj gives when wwx thinks he’s in love with mianmian... this show is a cinematic masterpiece and I will hear no other opinion  

- lwj looking at the love of his life completely missing the point: are you a joke to you (the answer is yeah)

- okay we’ve officially hit the point where everything’s about to go to hell for real, pray for me I’m not sure I can handle this again

- jiang fengmian acknowledge your other son who desperately wants your attention and affection challenge (unfinished)

- watching this scene knowing exactly what this promise means to jiang cheng and that wwx is going to break it... this is fINE

why the fuck did I do this to myself I know what’s about to happen when will I learn to quit while I’m ahead lol

- the change in subtext from the novel that EVERYONE sees wangxian coming from day one is so painful from jiang cheng’s side. this poor boy really has abandonment issues pelting him from every direction huh. tfw your idiot genius brother doesn’t even fucking realize he’s basically announcing he’s leaving your clan and your side to get married one day ;______;

- man mxtx is just so GOOD at peppering in the small private tragedies that somehow sting even worse than huge atrocities going on. the fact that madam yu and papa jiang never manage to reconcile and communicate except possibly in death... oof my friends. oooof.

- WAIT WHAT NO DON’T SHOW ME THE CHILDREN WHO’RE ABOUT TO DIE WHAT THE FUCK YOU MONSTERS

- like we’re right at the worst part now and she is an asshole... but damn madam yu’s last stand is epic tho. like a champ to the end

- wen zhuliu’s actor being able to uphold a look of tremendous boredom at all times regardless of what’s going on around him is Poetic Cinema Bitches

- jiang cheng and wei ying are holding hands on the boat... stab me in the heart... end my suffering

- you know what in this version we get to see that madam yu knew her husband came back for her and they died holding hands and not everything’s on fire yet, so far this isn’t quite as harrowing as the animated version. the dead children are fucking me up but the tone of the animated version is like a nightmare, this is less disturbing to me

also can we talk about how madam yu fought them off the whole day and night and her husband gets his ass owned within five minutes 😔 oh papa jiang

- oh okay turns out jiang cheng’s ‘I want my mom and dad’ gets to me in every adaptation good to know

they’re so young they’re bbs I don’t want to be here anymore haha

- wen ning. a sweet angel. just the goodest of boys. his sister raised him so well ;______:

- wen quing is so ethereally beautiful and also looks like she could stop a train with the force of one glance. like she’s my height but her presence is immense

- oh I see we’ve arrived at the tiny adorable flashback bbs part of this journey, let me just... just lie down somewhere huh

- outside of the central romance this is a tale about people who love their brothers very very much and it’s real sad for everyone involved

- me watching nie mingjue kicking down the doors to reclaim his own dang fortress: YEEEEAAAAH GO OFF DAGE!!! i um love him and his very handsome face

- jiang cheng dreaming about his family is EMOTIONAL WARFARE!!! how fucking dare!!!

- y’know what this isn’t a bad way of adapting the burial grounds thing! also pretty cost effective I imagine, gotta think about the budget when so much of it goes into fabulous wigs and robes

- credit where it’s due, the actor for wen chao makes his face do some shit I didn’t know human faces could do and he’s enjoyable to watch in the capacity as your friendly neighbourhood hate sink

- lwj consistently using wwx’s personal name even when talking to total strangers now... mhm this is also fine

- I can’t beliEVE this show is somehow less subtle about the gay stuff than the book, jin zixuan basically just asked lwj if he and wwx were... y’know... I guess cultivation partners would be the way to go here lol. between that and nhs more or less asking them if they were off fucking after the whole cold cave debacle... what a time to be alive even if they’re not going to kiss on-screen  

- huaisang I hate to have to be the one to tell you this but your brother is an entire snacc. and yet I respect him way too much to ever proposition him, I know he is busy winning a war and being Righteous and slowly being driven mad by the ghost in his sword on top of raising his little brother, I’m not here to complicate things for him any further

I love this version of nmj so much though. this sense that he also sees the stuff that is genuinely good in jgy and has a real moment of grief that the dude just can’t seem to get away from his basic insecurity that causes him to do horrific things, even when handed other opportunities... the fact that he seems regretful and worried when asking jin zixuan how jgy is doing with the jin....... everything to do with his little brother...................... oh no he’s Soft in his private life this is awful

- poor lwj’s ‘I have a bad feeling about this’ face in this scene haha, he’s staring at this talisman like ‘I only know one person smart and dumb enough to pull this off’

- can’t wen quing just get one nice thing. one nice thing just for her. hasn’t she been through enough. give her her brother back and a nice quiet place to practice medicine and maybe some soft romance with jiang cheng eventually this show is kind of selling me on this.  

- unexpectedly my favourite part of the revenge scene is just the camera switching back to lwj and jc watching in horrified silence like ‘...O___o dude this is fucked up tho right?? it’s not just me that’s messed up??’

- one is forced to wonder about wen zhuliu tho. this version reads as pretty explicitly depressed/suicidal to me, he’s kind of an interesting villain since his main traits are unquestioning loyalty mixed with unending indifference and also seemingly not too pressing a will to live

- oh nhs desperately trying to keep it together and pretend nothing’s different ;_____; this version is really driving it home that wwx is a lot of people’s only friend -- jiang cheng is mentioned to not have anyone but his sister to play with before he arrived, lwj was raised primarily on books and rules and his brother is ELATED that he has one (1) friend now, from the sheer depth of the attachment I’m willing to bet nhs hasn’t had many real friends in his life either. wwx gives and gives of himself and doesn’t know how to take help in return.    

- foreknowledge is a beautiful thing; if you look at nhs when it’s revealed wwx didn’t bring his sword you can visibly see his brain kicking into overdrive haha. smart boy.

- big sister ;_______; I am an older sibling so I haven’t really had the feeling of having an older sister to look to, I see why it might be comforting now

- oh this is some real uruk-hai shit!! honestly the special effects in this aren’t half as bad as I’d been lead to fear, some of you guys just weren’t forged in the crucible of shitty sci-fi channel cgi at an early age and it shows  

(honestly the weird fight stuff threw me much worse in nirvana in fire, because that series has such intricate, credible and realistic political world building and then people are flying all over the place through wire fu and it is so disorienting haha)

- oh nhs looking up at his brother like a puppy during the war council T______T baby bird boy

(between this point in the main story and fatal journey it’s very interesting how clearly nhs needs the emotional stability and safety of his brother -- who also seems to be his parental figure -- to function properly, even in his late teens. it looks like he needed more time to grow up than the rest of them even before they were all thrown into this awful bullshit. well he does have a lot of murderkitten brain to grow I guess that’s fair enough lol. wwx has some of the same thing with his sister too)

- whenever lxc and nmj look at each other it feels like the only two adults in the room meeting each other’s eyes like ‘...oh dear’

- aww lwj getting some advice from his brother. this poor kid really hasn’t been raised to handle the moral complexity of the real world huh, good thing lxc is here to lend some nuance to lan qiren’s unforgiving dogma

- oh lan zhan

- nmj’s plan to just idk somehow go in alone and fight the wen overlord mano a mano to avoid any more casualties... a spine made of steel, a heart made of gold, a head made of wood :’) truly a perfect man, good thing his brother got the brains in that family and he has some more sensible people around him

- in the face of inevitability I plead... jiang yanli... please don’t marry this asshole your son is going to be predictably insufferable

wwx has suffered through so much the last four months or so and yet his real breaking point is seeing his sister cry and can I just say -- relatable content

- NO! NO STOP HURTING HIM HE’S JUST GOOD AND HANDSOME AND DOESN’T DESERVE THIS

(could be applied to like 98% of these characters but in this case it’s nmj b/c I love him)

I do find it very funny and oddly comforting that nmj is literally so fuckn mad that it takes three times as many attacks for the evil sorcery stuff to take him down than we’ve seen used on anyone else fsdkfhasdkj too angry to die  

wHY has my brain chosen for me to attach so deeply to perhaps The single most inevitably doomed person in this entire cast, at this point I’m just being cruel to myself lol

- I can’t describe how much I love the fanficiness of this story, in the best ways. the emotional fallout from the destruction of the lotus pier gets more screentime and attention than the entire sunshot campaign, and that’s exactly how I want it to be.  

- they’ve been doing some great work to establish that the jin are also jeeeeeerks for such a long time, how’s that for foreshadowing

- equal opportunity traitor jgy gets his stab in lol one must respect the grift, though, he’s set himself up pretty darn good

*lxc stops nmj from killing jgy, hello darkness my old friend starts playing in the background*

fatal journey builds nicely on this fundamental thing that the nie boys take their responsibility to their people extremely seriously, it seems to be the fact that jgy so blithely talks about them as necessary casualties that really sets him off

- adlfsdfhsdkjh lxc and nmj meekly being like ‘...we could maybe... not commit war crimes? if that’s at all possible? no?’

*slaps ‘I don’t think you even tried at all’ stars on both of them* (I mean I actually do kind of see where they’re coming from a bit, they just came out of a pretty costly war and I wouldn’t feel too comfortable getting right back into it with arguably the wealthiest faction, who’s also been keeping back a bit and thus kept a lot more reserves. well played jin bastards well played)

- I could stop here. if I stopped here everything would basically be as okay as they could be and the world full of hope still. I suppose the question here is... do I love myself enough to quit while the going is good. and the answer is no I already started the next episode

- I think one incredibly endearing aspect of this version of nmj is that he has a look of faint but permanent worry about him. he walked onto the screen with a vibe of ‘...oh boy I don’t like where this is going’ and he’s just kept going ever since

in the book he’s kind of a flat character (whose one trait is Mad), I love that they’ve given him some depth and nuance here! probably partly down to the actor doing a great job, but this version has a real sort of warmth to him and also seems downright uncertain at times -- he thrives when there’s a clear goal and black and white sides, and is probably not  t h r i l l e d with the weird tentative political situation after they take down the wens lol. thank god he has his little brother to make ‘bitch please’ faces over his shoulder when the jin get weird about things

anyway I’m always on the ‘nhs you are SO valid’ train, but in this version nhs is quadruple valid, in fact only mianmian is more valid in this entire world

- one of my favourite parts of this show is when wwx enters a situation and the camera takes some time to zoom in on the faces of his family and friends to convey their sense of ‘oh god what the fuck is he about to say now’ dread    

- jiang yanli asking her little brother if he doesn’t want to stay with them anymore while crying is emotional kryptonite, help

this poor woman, she had to put all her points into emotional intelligence b/c god knows no one else in this family did

- hell YEAH lan zhan go break some rules!! treat yourself my guy

- hey sis if, theoretically, one hypothetically found oneself in -- for the sake of argument -- love with, as the case may or may not be, someone... how would one tell?? asking for a friend

- the whole summary of this fucking show is just ‘weaponized sibling feels’ everything hurts with foreknowledge why did I keep going

- aw no blindfolded kiss scene but here’s a scene with real earnest emotional intimacy stuff going on instead... I will joyfully take it your honor

- I do value and respect the translators giving us these subtitles so much... but they did also force me to read the words ‘bosom friend’ with my own two eyes right there and that was not very cool of them

- why oh WHY must jiang yanli, best person in the world, have been cursed with the horrible fate of being in love with the dumbest man on the planet

*jiang yanli juggling all the idiot men in her life* oh god my little brother is causing an international diplomatic incident again time to bUCKLE UP

oh ho ho you know shit is getting real when big sister gets mad I LOVE HER. suddenly you see she definitely her mother’s daughter after all lol

wwx crying because his sister just fiercely defended him in public... im uwu

- I hate jgy with all my heart but I do feel bad for him too. his barely faltering :) look while all his asshole relatives gang up on him sdfhskahf

- again the jin are dicks but when it comes to aesthetics they do go off, that’s such a beautiful shade of blue

- dsflhsdakjlfhsdakjfl sd this shot of lwj and nmj right before lxc drinks is the funniest framing imaginable b/c lwj is wearing a look of complete stonefaced

-___________-

and meanwhile nmj, who presumably has seen lxc drunk before since they’re longstanding bros, looks worried as fUCK

- awwwww I do love nhs capitalizing all of jc’s attention so the others won’t start shit with him/so he won’t get to say something publicly he’ll regret later because he’s (understandably honestly) mad at his brother for making his life even more difficult than it has to be (I have every sympathy with wwx but buddy... buddy must you make everything more complicated for your bro every darn time this is a real delicate political situation and he’s not suited for that even without your antics)

it’s a very nhs move because he comes across as slightly boorish and rude and thus leaves jc blameless and thus protected, you can get so far if you have no self respect lol  

- showing us exactly how wen ning died is honestly a little too mean this is not fun

- good god this poor grandma has been through the wringer hasn’t she

- oh. oh wen ning, who never meant hurt anyone in his entire life :(

- listen okay the end is in sight just a couple more horrific tragedies to get through and then it’s the weird romantic comedy buddy cop antics of the current day timeline to ride to the end

- it cannot be overemphasized how much this lan zhan is Baby, I so desperately want to help and protect him

- I’m going to stop shouting out individual actors on this show they’re all goddamn brilliant haha (but am I tho)

- most valid person in the cultivation world mianmian

also enjoying the exemplification of nmj’s character that is ‘not sure how I feel about this dumb kid with the big mouth digging his own grave ever deeper but that girl’s got guts and I respect that’

- wen quing is getting a taste of the dangers and pitfalls of having wwx as a little brother dfhskdalfhsdaklj she and jyl should compare notes (he’s so good tho T-----T)

- how does wwx’s actor have such natural dad energy at such a young age, too powerful

- people give so little thought to how fucked up jc’s situation really is here, like he’s just being an asshole for the sake of it. spend three fucking seconds looking at it with some realpolitik in mind and realize that the clans around him have just shown that they can and will wipe out an enemy clan together if need be, and that his own sect hasn’t even gotten back on its feet after the war that almost wiped it out. like wwx is unquestionably morally right but has gone about it in such a way that it’s real fucking hard to support him without going down with him and how do you calculate that risk when you’re responsible for so many more lives than your own

also so sad about jc being so afraid this entire time that wwx would leave him like everyone else... and now he has :( jc doesn’t handle it well but then who would at this stage

- there is something so pure about a quietly horrified lan zhan getting Dad Advice from these guys (well he’s going to be needing it soon enough so)

oh the utter softness of his face looking at wwx and ah yuan ;_______; thank god, some fluff to bolster my heart before we set off into the last harrowing ordeal here

LAN ZHAN’S ENTIRE FACE LIGHTING UP AT WEI YING ASKING HIM OUT thank fuck there’s still some joy left in the universe

this poor love struck man, someone help him  

lan zhan conscientiously grabbing ah yuan’s toys is fskhdfksjdlfhskjdhf

- lan zhan looking around the demon subduing cave: babe I love you more than life itself but this is tacky as hell

- crying because wen niiiiiing

- crying because sibliiiiiings

okay this is the last time the three of them will be together and nominally happy, need to appreciate it through my tears

- actually I take it back please just let the bad thing happen now so I don’t have to live in suspense anymore lol (...this probably says a lot more about me as a person than I’m strictly comfortable with)

- the fact that none of wwx’s little adopted wen family are AT ALL intimidated by him anymore is just... it’s too much to bear

again tho this book/show is so willing to let you dwell in the emotional stages of things in a very fanfic sort of way, I think it’s what makes the sad parts so much worse (and makes you feel so incredibly attached to these characters)

- I gUESS it’s a testament to jin zixuan’s character that he has any decency at all, considering who his dad is and where he was raised

I’m cracking up at their dad being the one who still doesn’t trust jgy tho lol snake recognizes snake

- jgy’s faint look of ‘are you fucking kIdDiNg me rn’ whenever all these jin douchebags talk is very entertaining. if he didn’t go on to do all that murder and incest and (probably) infanticide I’d sort of cheer for him no matter what kind of sociopath he is

- not to be a downer or anything but isn’t one month a little premature to be celebrating the survival of a baby in fantasy old timey china tho

sometimes I feel like looking back at history is just seeing a whole lot of dead children (and this is why I think that even if god did exist it would be morally inconceivable to worship him! sorry just a quick detour into my personal grudge against the inherent cruelty of the world there, let’s move on)

- it’s uncomfortable to watch even the outlines of the jin sect’s slow insidious stranglehold on power. even these random shopgoing nobodies know that nmj is Not Happy about these watchtowers and that it’s probably going to happen anyway. the jin are snakes but at least they’re clever about it and I do kind of respect that

- oh everything’s about to go so wrong I hate it

NOOOOO don’t make the zombie baby fight, nothing good will come of this

- man this is hitting me worse than lotus pier actually I’m just... crying haha

it’s almost cathartic tho... there’s something about wen quing’s dignity and certainty that really helps? I just really wish they hadn’t brought the whole little group, god I want them to be okay so badly and ah yuan will be all that’s left and. and just throw me into the ocean and let me sink tbh

- I know this is all so much black cgi smoke (pls let us see the red version again at some point btw that was cool as shit) but the emotional metaphor of wwx that you can’t take on more and more of other people’s suffering and trauma and not care for yourself because you will lose control of that at some point is just. very nicely done. (he’s a bit of an odd serial codependent for a lot of the story, isn’t he. thank god lan zhan is not a quitter)

- jin zixuan’s mom is breaking my heart a little here. this lady has been married to THAT GUY all this time and now this as well. sorry lady, I guess jgy probably Took Care Of You at some stage after this

- a) this is just real good acting for wwx. this is the perfect level of unhinged for this, even though I’m always like ‘just. just shut your mouth for one time in your life and stop digging this grave any deeper six feet should be enough for anyone huh’ at this stage of the story and b) I am cackling inappropriately at the shot-reverse-shots between wwx, jiang cheng and jgy. jiang cheng looks like everything he ever loved is falling apart around him and jgy is like ‘oh wow I didn’t even have to provide him any rope he’s doing an excellent job at hanging himself without me’

I love wwx so much but it did take him an unconscionable length of time to realize that when you set big enough things into motion you will not be able to control who it crushes along the way or who might steer it in the wrong direction. other people exist and have agency and a lot of those people are bad honey :(

- ah yes lwj being stopped by a barrier made of the physical manifestation of wwx’s trauma when he tries to reach him :’) this is okay and cool and fine    

- it’s admirably obtuse of everyone to look at wwx at this stage and still think he’s in control of uh anything lol

- oh okay that went better than expected I don’t know if I’m just inured to sadness at this point

jiang cheng looking like a little boy clutching his big sister’s body is tugging at my heartstrings a bit tho

- ooooh this battle hardened intense lwj!!! I guess I can sort of see it now

- oh lan zhan 2, electric boogaloo

- finally! time for some comfort up in this hurt

- my man nmj still so fucking angry in the afterlife that anything even remotely connected to him is shaking with rage in sympathy in the real world. a mood

- fdsahfsjdklfhsdajk wwx being like ‘I can take everyone saying I was evil but how DARE you not mention I was also a snacc’

- when do you think nie huaisang really realized that his brother wouldn’t have children and that he was up for the sect leader seat next? nie mingjue seems to have known pretty far in advance himself and tried to prepare his brother accordingly, but that kid really didn’t want the job so I imagine he’d try to live in denial as long as possible

vaguely related: no other family is ever mentioned by either brother or anyone else, and nie huaisang straight out says that he is the only main disciple (I seem to remember and with the caveat that I might have misunderstood the translation) when there’s the talk of them being sent to the wen as hostages -- I suppose you sort of have to be very selective when your ancestral cultivation method is sketchy enough that you should keep that shit on the down low and you know people die young from it. so I think it’s possible if not probable that huaisang is the last of his family. isn’t that a fun little thing to think about? haha. ha. help me  

- this random street vendor is an unexpected strong comedy performance, every face he makes is pure gold

- fkshafkjsdhfasd best introduction of adult nhs

- the quiet luminous love on lwj’s face whenever he looks at wwx in the present... give this man all the awards. it’s nice that wwx gets to be scared and childish and vulnerable with someone who loves him no matter what too, he’s been through some shit

- oh okay I see so the reason they chose to make fatal journey the way they did was because they already had the set built

- *nhs dropping one set of robes like that one gif from anastasia to reveal another even more luxuriously dandy-ish set under it* oh wow what a surprise to see you two down here, coincidences amirite (anyway here’s the testament to all the sins of my ancestors & a trail of breadcrumbs to lead you to the murderer of my brother)

no wait that’s slightly later isn’t it. well the point still stands

- dead!nmj is truly a mood -- “I don’t know where I am, who I am or what the fuck just happened but I do know that I am PISSED OFF”

(actually in the book I found that almost comforting -- at least the dude got to spend his afterlife doing what he loved (i.e. being angry), but this more nuanced and sympathetic version being trapped like that just. makes me very very sad)

nice of him to stick around to play a few rounds of hot or cold with his little bro’s friends tho lol. I mean from what I understand of this take on canon it’s actually the spirit of his sword and not him in person? but close enough, let me keep him as long as I can okay

- jin ling getting his dumb ass cask of amontillado’d within ten minutes of entering the tomb smh

look at your ROBES young man what is your (other) uncle going to say??

- hAH what did I say. pedagogic mastermind jiang cheng at it again

enjoying the fact that they chose the floofiest most benign-looking of dogs to play this ~*terrifying hound*~ so much

I have a lot of sympathy for jiang cheng, and the actor is doing a good job at aging him up here (not as good as lwj’s but then you can’t beat perfection). the way he’s calcified into bitterness and anger b/c he can’t express his emotions in a healthy nuanced way feels very... real I guess, people get like that sometimes

- I am somehow really endeared to this version of jin ling. a dumb baby, but a baby

- poor lan zhan lol “I LEFT YOU ON YOUR OWN FOR TWO HOURS AND YOU ALREADY MANAGED TO TAKE ON SOMEONE ELSE’S CURSE??? BABE!!!!!!!”

he consistently uses jiang cheng’s personal name too huh. well it is his brother in law I guess ETA: actually I’m an idiot ignore/forgive me, that’s jiang cheng’s courtesy name isn’t it. lan wangji is being salty/maybe-deliberately-maybe-not-(but-definitely-tho) distant/polite with him I think 

- y’know... as I watch lwj carry the love of his life around on his back with all the tenderness in the world and I see people in the comments yell about why do you always need everything to be gay they’re just good friends you’re all crazy... I realize all over again that there really is no level of queerness they’ll ever find legitimate or acceptable. which like. feels bad, but there’s also the freedom in remembering they are always going to be assholes no matter what I do, there’s literally no need to listen to them at any time.

- I am CRACKING UP; watching this episode right after seeing fatal journey sure is a treat hahaha. nhs really must enjoy the acting on a deep level because he is hamming it up and I am living for it    

“It’s nothing at all like unorthodox demonic cultivation methods!” he protests with his big innocent doe eyes, having yelled the exact same accusation at his brother within ten seconds of finding out about it dsfdskjha

- awww that’s such a sweet way of telling nhs who he is while both of them still get plausible deniability :’)

this show is making it a LOT easier to figure out nhs’ deal earlier just through visual storytelling and his reactions when lwj and wwx aren’t looking, but I guess you sort of have to do that without the benefits of selective POVs that you can do in written stories

- lan zhan’s little smirks are such a blessing

- can we talk about how INCREDIBLY rude lwj and wwx are being barging into other people’s ancestral tombs like they own the place. I know I said break some rules lan zhan but there’s such a thing as common decency too at least wipe your feet at the entrance or something

stop being big bullies!!! (nhs actually sounds a little salty at how debonair they are being lol he’s like yeah you’re doing what I want you to but you don’t have to be such dicks about it)

- nooooooo nmj don’t die ur so sexy ahaha (I jest so I do not cry godddddd my heart big brother come baaaaaaack)

I’m honestly finding it very hard to live with knowing that the last thing nmj saw in life was jgy having his little brother in his clutches D:D:D: looking at it like that... of course he came back mad as fuck, I’d probably do the same thing

- boys boys I love and support you but could you maybe not stand around talking about how this was totally a horrific murder like the murderee’s little brother isn’t standing right there?? i mean it’s useful for him but it’s kind of mean of you, I know neither of you were raised in a barn  

okay there’s wwx irrepressible protective instinct that’s better. I just... nhs standing there looking small and sad and soft and lonely isn’t the whole truth but it is part of the whole truth, it’s nice to see wwx being like this even after all those years. (the physical closeness in their friendship in their youth in this version is so gooood. outside of wwx the only two people we see nhs consistently allow close or seek out closeness from is his brother and MENG YAO, who can frankly burn in hell even more than usual for the flute thing in fatal journey.)

- lan zhan contemplating the inherent impermanence of everything good in the world and then immediately getting blackout drunk -- MOOD. also I have never seen a scene where someone so obviously was about to press a soft kiss to someone’s forehead or cheek, don’t worry wwx I see you through the censorship lol

(it’s incredible how well they’ve adapted the love story considering the fact that they technically uh can’t)  

- wen ning: shambles, zombie-like and disheveled with horror movie monster eyes, into frame

all of us: omg a BABY ToT

- live action drunk lan zhan is living up to the hype I am  d y i n g

this poor repressed man

fjskdfsdkjhf he could do sword fighting in his damn sleep probably

I will say that leaving ‘wei wuxian was also here’ is going to scare the crap out of these poor people whose only crime was keeping well fed chickens

- they r so in love someone hold me

- this nmj!kid I am LOSING IT, this is so cute I want to lie face down on the floor and cry

- the yi city arc is my least favourite part of this story, so I’m fortifying myself to get through a couple of hours of sexy baby xue yang here

- Dad/troll teacher!wwx is in fact everything

- oooh wwx has the same weird crooked fingers as me when they’re extended! just some small Facts About Your Friendly Neighbourhood Blogger there

- this is not at all a bad take on ah quing! she qte

- ‘what’s your husband look like?’ song lan, crying: beautiful

- xxc you didn’t think it was a little weird the dude wouldn’t tell you his name -- even a name -- all this time. honestly

I know you’re in a bad place and this is sort of a rebound thing from your actual true love but stop letting him gaslight you like this buddy :(

- time for some MASSIVELY FORESHADOWING PARALLELS my friends

- I don’t know if I’m just a heartless monster but I honestly don’t care that much about anyone but ah quing in this little sideplot lol (probably my complete disinterest in xue yang tainting everything else)  

- xue yang and jgy: the ‘sad backstory dude still inexplicably extra mass murder’ club

- godddd I’m so bored I’ve listened to this guy cackle ~*madly and evilly*~ for three episodes now when will it fucking end

- lan jingjy you are VALID

- fhsdkfhsdkj can’t get over baxia being like ‘OI you two stop gazing soulfully into each other’s eyes for five seconds and get on with avenging me’

must be annoying spending your afterlife in a pouch third wheeling the two most obnoxiously in love people in the world, I think this spirit sword is being admirably restrained and patient all things considered

- big brother I am so sorry you had to hang out under there all this time while this boring bullshit plot happened above you ;________________________;

I’m actually not clear on what the nie sect does with the bodies of the dead -- the saber tomb seems to be exclusively for the weapons/we see that some of the cultivators will go down there while they’re still alive to sacrifice themselves... maybe they go in the walls? I guess nhs is breaking tradition in a lot of ways tho so who knows!

- ‘from what I’ve seen he’s not so bad’ wei ying he smilingly asked you to use POWs for target practice I’ll allow lxc to be this dumb but you really have no excuse

- this duckling in red is a gentleman and a bro, one to watch

- wwx seductively arranging himself in the open window to cover his panic fsdkjfhsda

- lot’s wife WISHES she had the level of salt jiang cheng does

- ‘if they ask me any weird questions I don’t know the answers to I’ll have to pretend to be a total psycho’

lan zhan, dragging his husband with one deadpan face: I’m sure that is going to be a huge feat of acting for you babe

- NIE HUAISANG FALLING INTO FRAME AND LAUNCHING HIMSELF FROM ONE PERSON TO ANOTHER LIKE A GORMLESS WET RAG, I STAN ONE (1) BOY

‘but new problems appeared’  how is he such a mood

again tho you can give your unknowing accomplices so much space to investigate if you just don’t bother with self respect or dignity at any stage of the journey lol

- fjshdfkjlsahd that beat of lan zhan clearly taking a moment to contemplate the idea of wei ying confessing his love naked in public there

- uncle and nephew bonding time T________________T  

- fsakfhsadkjlfhsad I can’t deal with this mission impossible ass music in the background as a little paper gingerbread man scoots around the palace

whoever animated this was clearly having a lot of fun, I love the little details like his dangling legs and him rubbing his lil paper bum after landing

- poor qin su, one of the most screwed over people in this whole show. at least in the book he didn’t mean to

- ah su, you’re being very unreasonable about this, what is a little incest between friends

- straight culture is this being chill to keep in the adaptation but god forbid anyone got a loving queer kiss at any point (not blaming the showrunners at all, they’re clearly stretching the limits as far as they will go and maybe a bit more at a few points)

- YES SISTER CALL HIM THE FUCK OUT I always felt like she’s known something was a little off for a long time but never could put her finger on what exactly

- ‘can you still not let me go’ hey jgy you piece of shit who’s keeping whose head in a weird serial killer cabinet here

- THANK YOU FOR BRINGING HIS HANDSOME ALIVE FACE BACK TO MY SCREEN IF ONLY TO MAKE ME SAD

- he’s so beautiful and righteous and strong 😭😭😭😭 dage come back to us

(makes even more sense that he’s so pissed off about what jgy did if he’s already shown clearly that he’ll shut down the people fucking with him if it’s brought to his attention. he gave you every opportunity you little oh-it’s-never-really-my-fault worm of a man)

- another nmj about to cry warning needed here help me

dON’T FUCKING TOUCH HIM YOU SLIMY FSKJLDHFKSJDHFSKDJLHF

the nie traits are undying loyalty, rage, and the intergenerational trauma of watching your parental figures succumb to death and madness through the same cultivation path you practice

- my cause of death: nmj’s eyes shining with unshed tears

this version has that edge of vulnerability to him, you suddenly do realize he was once just a kid watching his dad die a horrifying death and then having to take on all that responsibility and raising his brother

nie boys unfailingly devoted to the people under their protection I’m gonna go bury myself under a tree or something

- I’ve had to turn the volume down so I can barely hear anything b/c my emotions are too big to for my dumb body to contain already I can’t listen to this

- extremely sad but also a little funny that part of the reason nmj died was that he had no interest whatsoever in the arts. ‘music is music right?’ says local jock

- I’ve just been whimpering the last twenty minutes this is awful

- huaisang’s voice breaking on ‘big brother, it’s me’... sdlakhgsdjklfhsadjkghsdkjlfhdskljhgsdalkhgsdklgjhsdjklhgkdjslhgjskd I’m going to the bottom of the mariana trench and I’m staying there goodbye

- I can’t wait to watch nie huaisang end this putrid trash man’s whole career in the most devastating way possible tbh

- I’m just so SAD T______________________________T I hate jgy so much my heart burns with it I’m so glad he’s about to get some dramatic irony shoved up his -- but I digress

- haha poor jin ling standing there watching all this messed up shit like ‘O.O thanks i’m nine’

- I wish I was as good at passing the fuck out on command as nhs, I feel like it would solve a lot of my problems

- just some low key soulmate shit no biggie

- wwx is basically fantasy old timey naked again here the SCANDAL except no scandal they’re clearly married

- wwx is being so much more patient with lxc than I would have found it in my heart to be at this stage. he’s like ‘lxc you are my brother in law and I truly appreciate you and everything you’ve done for me but it’s sadly up to me to gently confront you with all the ways you’ve been a dumb ho just b/c you think jgy has pretty dimples 😔’

- “You’re not qualified to talk to me” oh lwj I love you so much. I thought committing murder was forbidden by the lan sect rules but there you go  

- it honestly baffles me that some people think nmj would be the strictest parental figure in this universe when a) everything about huaisang suggests otherwise and b) lan qiren is right there

madam yu has that ‘super unforgiving to her son’s face but will also tear anyone criticizing him a new one’ mixed energy too  

- lqr: I raised a perfect obedient righteous cultivator

me & wei ying: you’ve ruined a perfectly good boy is what you did look at him he’s too repressed to breathe

- well their dad clearly paid enough attention to worldly matters that two kids resulted from it, I’m not quite sure where we’re going with this lxc

one’s an accident two’s a pattern etc.

- wow I was so confused about ‘confidante’ being used here b/c it makes absolutely no sense in context, and the comments helpfully informed me that it’s more accurately translated to ‘soulmate’ or something like that; that does make a whole lot more sense yeah

- bb!lan zhan kneeling in the snow is more than anyone’s supposed to have to live with tbh

- lxc being like ‘so yeah my brother will keep loving people long after they’re gone and unable to give him love back! just a fun fact there, something to think about anyway here’s wonderwall’

- soft, ever-so-slightly messy haired at home lan zhan deserves the world

- oh wwx’s shift away from thinking the truth doesn’t matter at all to realizing the truth of you being held fully and with love by one person in your life is enough as lwj plays their song ;______________________________; this is almost more romantic than a kiss scene would be honestly jesus christ  

- little apple is the best of us tbh

- apologies but they have 100% started to fuck off-screen at this stage, the looks wei ying is giving him dsafasdfhsjkd

- I take it back mianmian and little apple are the best of us

- imagine just finding the light bearing lord, second peerless jade of lan in his immaculate white clothes, peeking out from between your hay bales one day

- the exponential increase in lan zhan’s blessed little smiles lately: my oh-they-fawking thesis is validated yet again

- wei ying lying through his teeth: of course I remembered your face at once who do you take me for  

(lan zhan: smirks in quiet satisfaction)

- walejhgskdjhgsjdaklfhsadjkflafhsjakdsf wen ning is so cute I don’t know what to do with myself

- wei ying this is where you first asked him out of course he remembers

- lan zhan is like ‘oh shit I forgot to tell him about our son and at this point I’m kind of embarrassed to bring it up’

- I am NOT thinking about the lotus pond they made for him here, you can’t make me

- ‘the worst time in their lives’ yeah, but there was such love there too. it  h u r t s 

- the actor for wen ning is so good at making his expressions look deeply earnest but also a little uncanny, like moving his face doesn’t come naturally to him anymore but his Good Boyness shines through

- DRAGGED in public by his own son. rip wwx he had a good run of it before his untimely murder

- wow thank goodness sect leader yao survived all this time, his death would as we all know have been a huge loss to society as a whole

- “I’m just here to round up the numbers” I love him more than I can convey to you in words

I’m a simple person, I hear nhs’ chronically befuddled voice and a burst of pure joy is released in my heart

sdfhjksadhfsad his soft little 😕 face peeking out from behind people’s shoulders fkjsdhfsdjal

- will I ever get enough of nhs masterfully manipulating a situation through his own apparent cowardliness and uselessness? no is the answer to that it’s always entrancing to watch

nhs as a teacher, nodding sagely as his disciples exchange glances: it’s never too late to go home instead of going big. saying ‘fuck this i’m outta here’ is always an option

- also nhs seemingly doesn’t use a saber at all anymore, where he at least used to have one back in fatal journey times. I’m very happy he’s trying some new things, time to break that very sad traumatic chain of dying young and furious

also him getting someone else to do the work of fixing the ward or whatever fskdfhaskdlf

teacher nhs, waving his pupils away b/c he’s busy painting or something: class dismissed. and remember, if at all possible, get someone else to do your homework for you. as long as you don’t get caught that’s an automatic A

- wwx is literally the cat surrounded by knives meme here lol

- lol lol lol wwx just removed his outer tunic thing to reveal lan zhan’s undershirt still under there and you can see lan qiren silently seethe with ‘that little hussy has seduced my nephew away from the righteous path’

(do I personally believe in slut shaming of any kind? nah it’s dumb as fuck. do I think lqr does? yeah)

- hahaha I can’t tell if nhs’ slightly glazed look here is b/c wwx did something he didn’t plan for him to do or if it’s because he’s for all intents and purposes half naked in front of them. (tbh I think there’s a case to be made in this version that he has a sort of wistful would-never-act-on-it-for-a-million-different-reasons-lan-zhan’s-furious-jealous-stare-being-foremost-of-them crush on both wwx and lwj from back when they were teens)

- WOW all these dicks inviting themselves to lotus pier!!! r u d e

- lan zhan flexing on lan qiren by raising a happy well adjusted child even while he’s mourning the love of his life: what like it’s hard

- wen ning kept that toy for sixteen goddamn years don’t touch me

- I’m crying about jin ling give me a moment. he is baby okay he’s even younger than ah yuan by at least four years

the image of him hugging the only thing he’s got left of his dad... fsdalkfhasdjlkfhsjdakhfsjdk

- lan sizhui has a crowd of good uncles/dads and poor jin ling has a crowd of utter disaster uncles and it’s very unfortunate (yes wwx is on both of those lists)

it is very sweet that it’s jiang cheng who consistently actually looks out for him, even in his feelings-wtf-are-feelings sort of way. the least disaster uncle, but only by comparison lol

- I think this ouyang kid might be duckling in red from before? LOVING the interspersed nhs reaction shots to him, anyway fsakdfh (I’m going to make it sad: how many conversations like this do you think he had with his brother as a kid? that’s fine we can both cry now I don’t want to be alone in this)

- ‘mr ning’ im Y___________________________________Y

- extremely Here for yet another full costume change from nhs hahaha (he’s changed at the boat already, god knows how he pulled that off but I’d expect no less from him)

- nhs must have been a sect leader for at least a decade at this point, and he still manages to exude such a powerful ‘kid at the adult’s table’ aura. incredible. mindblowing, inspirational

- ...oh they went with the same version of the previous jin leader’s death huh (but GOD FORBID that anyone should be openly gay amirite lol) O___O again though WHY is jin ling here, jiang cheng??????? he’s like sixteen, he’s never going to dare to even kiss anyone after this

- nhs has the look of a man who’s had to sit on this disgusting knowledge alone for years and finally gets to share that icky burden around, merry christmas everyone if I have to know about this so do you

- I don’t know if this is just me imagining things or reading more into it than what’s there, but I think nhs is actually sitting in the same pose his brother used to a lot in this part of the scene (the upright posture with palms resting at the top of the thighs/hips, fingers turned inwards/towards each other; it looks sort of... solid and self-contained, I guess)

- I would call jgy knowingly committing the incest character assassination if he’d had enough character to assassinate even in the book, I would never have put it past him

- y’know... god knows nmj had flaws (I think my immense depth of love for him in this version comes precisely from how hard he tries even while being deeply flawed. him dumb but him always trying :’) well actually he’s not dumb at all, he’s shown to be pretty darn politically savvy, I’m just having a hard time finding the right word here. ‘inflexible’ is maybe closer ), but the big defining difference between him and jin guangyao (and consequently xue yang) is that both of the latter are completely open about the fact that they see themselves as more important than anyone else -- xue yang considers one of his fingers worth more than fifty people’s lives, jgy kills twenty sex workers as a mere afterthought to his own revenge on his father. meanwhile nmj gets Messed Up by people dying under his protection to the degree that he came up with one of the dumbest plans I’ve ever heard just so he’d be the only one at risk, just so no one else would get hurt anymore. hmnghsjhfs.   

- wen ning, proudly: my sister was the best doctor in the world 

me, openly crying: she sure was buddy

- wwx: hey lan zhan are there any sweet patient lan ladies with an open mind around

lwj: ...why

wwx: I just think our zombie son should start thinking about getting friends, maybe even a real home

lwj, subtly relieved: oh

- JIN LING BABY BOY NOOOO D:D:D:

- nhs I need you to come in and end this man I cannot look at his awful face anymore

- ugh this garrotte sound effect is really unpleasant actually well done

- THERE HE IS!!! conveniently swooning his way into the scene again, my guy ;_______; smol and soft-looking and about to utterly obliterate a man on every conceivable level 

I love every moment of the camera dwelling meaningfully on his innocent vulnerable face, this is going to be so great 

it’s too bad he’s a behind the curtain sort of dude, I would kill for a poirot-style ‘I’m sure you’re all wondering why I’ve gathered you here in the library’ moment here lol

- tbh jiang cheng’s got a point about that whole ‘making huge sweeping decisions about someone else’s life and never telling them about it’ thing

wwx has sort of structured himself as a person so that you’ll never be allowed to really reciprocate his dedication and sacrifices (unless you’re lz lol), and while that is a very sympathetic trauma reaction essentially it is sort of a dick move interpersonally.

- the weight and wisdom that comes along with the scars of older wwx... you love to see it

- nhs, with effortless grace, rousing from his disney princess slumber just as the real drama’s about to begin... your honor he is simply the best

-  T__________________________________________________________T big brother 

- the tinge of coldness in nhs’ eyes while he watches jgy through this whole scene even as he keeps up the ‘im baby don’t worry about me’ act.............. fashdfjlksdahfslkadj, not to say askfksjhafkjsldhfkjsalhfksjaldhfkls

- to say that jgy has perhaps ‘gone overboard with this’ might be the biggest understatement of any century lxc

- watching him kneel by his brother’s coffin here I’d like to propose that Nie Huaisang has exactly the same capacity for all-consuming rage as the rest of his family, except he can’t just vent it by hitting something real hard with a haunted murder saber so he has to get creative and that was real unfortunate for Jin Guangyao  

- one thing that’s always tickled me is that nhs did give jgy the choice. the people around him -- the people he claims to love -- could have been left out of it, no dishonor being brought to either his name or any of theirs... if he’d been willing to sacrifice himself. (probably a gambit where he knew that was never going to happen, but still!)

- nhs standing there in the background like ‘yeah yeah we all have horrifying family legacies buddy, we just don’t knowingly marry our sisters or arrange for mass murders over it’  

- arguably killing the previous jin leader could actually count as a good deed if not for the horrifying way he did it lol. jgy all over, he could have done something helpful, *john mulaney voice* and then he didn’t he just killed nineteen innocent women while he was on a roll instead

- while it’s sort of bullshit that some responsibility is taken away from wwx in jin zixuan’s death here it’s also making a bit more sense to me like this -- seems like an uncharacteristic gamble from jgy to just idk hope wwx would lose control at exactly the right/wrong moment. wwx is still at fault for how casually he treated wen ning as a weapon when he didn’t know what the consequences could be, I’m okay with this

- jin ling and the terrible horrible no good very bad week :( protect him

wow lan xicheng let’s stand around some more letting this awful excuse for a person tell this sixteen year old boy that his parents deserved to be murdered basically, I’m sure there’s a lot more fruitful discussion still left to be had here  

- talk shit about nie mingjue’s brother get hit su she hell YEAHHHHHH

big brother still looking out for him I’m fsdklfhajsdlhf 😭😭😭

- I’M SO FULL OF FEELINGS ;________________________________; at least in this version the implication feels more like he’s finally at peace? (hilariously wwx managed to purge/cleanse the saber spirit, which is the entire conflict of fatal journey haha, nhs really did get his best friend to do his homework for him yet again, INSPIRATIONAL)

- HELL YEAH FINALLY GET REKT YOU PIECE OF SHIT! PRESS F TO PAY RESPECT EXCEPT JOKE’S ON YOU I’VE GOT NO RESPECT TO PAY

They did do away with any and all ambiguity around nhs here and I’m totally cool with it, that was awesome

- I’m playing the world’s tiniest little violin right now, wow much sad fuck you and your dumb hat

- may I just say that the fact that jgy uses his last moments on earth to make lxc, a person he proclaims to love, feel as bad as possible about his now inevitable death even though it clearly wasn’t really his fault... is just proof that he has never actually loved anyone at all except possibly himself 

contrast with wwx, who tells jc that he’s sorry, dries his tears in the here and now and says to let the past go because there’s nothing either of them can do about it now and there’s no point in hurting themselves over it again and again anymore. jgy has the opportunity to give a similar kindness here and instead twists and twists the knife, so lxc will be in as much pain as possible when he’s gone. he’d rather be kept alive in lxc’s suffering than let him, someone he ‘loves’, ever heal and be happy. anyway I hope hell is real shitty for you jgy

- jgy you absolute piece of shit you couldn’t let my man have TEN FUCKING MINUTES to nap in peace? after sixteen years of your fuckery? urgh bye  

- nhs looking at lxc sadly when lxc can’t see him... one last ‘I don’t know’ finally closing out his arc... I love all of this so much, there’s such a nuance of... he is genuinely a bit sad about causing lxc pain but he also doesn’t regret what he did At All. (I guess most of what he’s done must be pretty easy to rationalize/justify to himself, since the vast majority of his work went into finding the horrible shit jgy has done and showing them the way home to roost, rather than creating fresh suffering from scratch. and then there’s also the whole mo family but uh well eggs omelettes amirite lol)   

- lan qiren telling people not to run or talk loudly b/c they’re at a temple, even under these circumstances fhakjsldfhkjsdafhkjsaldhf 

- god the casting people for this show have a perfect track record of finding heartwrenchingly cute kids my GOD

- jfdsafhaskdjfh I love how they’ve done the moment with the hat -- the way the flashback sort of indicates that nhs does recognize on a deep level that the dude he just killed was someone’s son, was after all once an innocent child, like anyone... and again, it doesn’t make him regret it. he looks tired and sort of empty, but not like he’d take any of it back. he’s seen jgy for all that he was, good and bad, and made his decision. his reaction to seeing his hands ever so slightly stained with blood is mostly ‘...eh sure’ (and he knows none of this will ever bring his brother back and I am HURTING) . just. I love him so much what an interesting character 

- lan zhan raised a child who can talk about his feelings, unprecedented & wondrous 

who’s chopping onions in here

- never getting over ah yuan being the best person in the world at roasting his dad 

- okay okay okay I’m going to have some incoherent feelings here -- the expression on nhs’ face right after wwx asks him if he intends to be chief cultivator is just... hm. how do I describe this. it looks almost like he’s thinking ‘oh yeah I forgot you don’t actually know me anymore (yeah okay that’s my bad)’? the previous scene is about lwj and wwx, The symbolic representation of true love in this world, naming each other/knowing each other for exactly who and what they are. that’s the thematic victory in this story; to be truly known, accepted and loved for the entirety of who you are, if only by one person in your whole life. (notably all sorts of love, parental, familial, platonic etc., not just romantic/sexual) and to get his victory, nhs has had to completely forsake that because his whole plan hinged on it; he hasn’t been emotionally honest with anyone for well over a decade at this point. no one really knows or understands him, and if someone ever did he’s long dead now and never coming back. and in this one moment both wwx and nhs seem to come to the quiet understanding that neither of them are who they used to be as kids and it’ll never be like it used to be again, and reach a sort of live-and-let-live truce about it.  d u d e this goddamn story 

(after all part of the reason jgy is so incredibly terrified of nmj is that he’s the first person to see straight through his bullshit to who he is behind it, and that it’s u g l y  back there. jgy + nmj = being known without being accepted or loved (b/c honestly he doesn’t deserve to be loved or accepted yeah there we go I said it), jgy + lxc = being accepted and loved without being known, which turns into disaster all around.)

- man this was actually a really solid adaptation, it was excellently done! they did rush a bit towards the end there (it was never explained why jgy didn’t kill sissi along with all the other sex workers in this version, for example, leaving a rather substantial plot hole, and they never reveal why exactly lan zhan had to take over as sect leader which breaks off lxc’s arc at the end), but all in all that was wonderful and even added some stuff I liked better than in the book! now please god never let mtxt write a sequel, just let them be in this happily ever after, all of them have been through enough ;________;

- also the music was truly epic! I don’t even begrudge them using some parts more often and blatantly than what’s probably necessary, I want to wallow in this love theme as much as the next person lol

- what am I going to do with hours upon hours of my life now? I don’t know either, I suppose I will just have to find some way to hobble on 

[toxicxxmyth]

Dating Christopher Vélez headcanon

Authors Note: Don’t know if I rlly have to mention this but I called Chris a fuckboy in this like 20+ times so don’t be offended m8 and just like Richards, this is all over the place

Richard‘s headcanon

Christopher has mentioned many many MANY times that he is not looking for a relationship

My man is getting that good good PussAy ;))))))

And he ain’t looking for no commitment :(:

We stan a fuck boy ;)

So it probably took him like three encounters to notice you

The first time was at a house party and y’all talked for like five seconds and then went your separate ways

You remember him

He didn’t even remember your hair color lol

The second time was also at a party

You were looking for your car keys but you spotted the cute guy you talked to for like a second

So you asked if he’d seen your keys like a fkn dumbass

And he was like “nah m8 😔”

And you were like “aight 🤘😔”

And he thought you were hot so that’s a start

Then the third time was also another party

And then y’all saw each other again and made a convo this time

He for sure remember you this time cause he wasn’t as tipsy as before

Lol

So that’s how y’all met

But just like Richard

It took this boy a long time to actually get his shit together and be like

“I actually like this girl”

Ya feel?

But you already liked him

But you understood his position

You were actually grateful that he didn’t just agree to go out with you if he wasn’t certain about you

It saved you the heart break

But after many MANY months

He gave in, and he was grateful for your patience

Anywhore

Now to the headcanon of dating the Ecuadorian fuck boy who we love

There is never a day where you’re bored

He’s always got something planned for the day

Lazy days are superior tho

His laugh could cure your acne, sadness’s and anxiety

Thank God he laughs every damn day

HE WILL FOR SURE TEACH YOU HOW TO SKATEBOARD

And if you already know how to skateboard then y’all will ride together like actual goals

He goes all out when it comes to dates

Will take you to the most expensive restaurants in the area

For sure will buy you a fancy ass dress

I highly believe that out of all the members he’s the one who’ll spoil you the most

Like fuck

It’s a lot

When he’s away on tour he’ll have a bIG ASS bouquet of flowers sent to you or chocolate

Will surprise you jewelry, food, clothes aNYTHING

you’ll have to remind him that he doesn’t have to do any of that but he insists on doing them bc he loves spoiling you sm

Yet when you return the favor by buying him something small he’s all like

“:0 thIS IS TOO MUCH, AMOR”

and you’re like “???? Khe ???”

For sure will teach you Spanish if you don’t already

Staring by cuss words ofc :’)

Whenever y’all go to the club he always comes up to you like you’re a stranger or smth

“I'm new in town. Could you give me directions to your apartment?” ;)

“ChRisssss”

He’d try this the whole night making random guys come to your “rescue”

Chris is laughing his ass off while you calmly tell them that it’s just your bf

He doesn’t seem to be the jealous type

He’s v confident that u love him and only him

Which is true

It takes a lot in him to get jealous

But when he does

OOFFF

You better be scared

He never takes it out on you, just the guy who seemed to cross a boundary that Chris drew in his imagination

You’re the one who gets jealous easily for sure

SO MANY PRETTY FEMALES THROWING THEMSELVES ON HIM MAKES YOU SEE RED

But he always shows you that you’re the only one he wants if you know what I mean ;)

Honestly, y’all don’t even cook, just order a shit ton of food while watching movies or the both of you just work on your individual projects

If you ever get stressed over work or a project from uni hes always there

Softly rubbing your shoulder as he presses kisses soft kisses along the shell of your ear sending shiver down your spine as you relaax

It might lead to ;) or it could end in you cuddling until you get your mojo back

The sEX is bOmB bTw ;))))))))

Like, this dude is so into overstimulation and subspace that he’ll have you c*mmimg multiple times a night :):

Ooff

Edging is suCH a big turn on for this boy

Y’all fuck like rabbits no doubt

Public sEx is definitely HIS thing

Expect a quickie after each show in his dressing room when you visit him on tour ;)

Anything you do is such a turn on for him

You literally make him feel like a hormonal teenager again

I’m 92% sure this boy will cry one tour bc he misses you sm

Which leads you to surprising him on the other side of the world

Which he is super grateful for :’)

And then y’all have some bomb sex cause y’all a bunch of sex addicts m8

Whenever he feels down he just rests his head on your boobs and wrap his long arms around your body

You let him rant as much as he wants

And somehow you know whether or not he wants advice or just someone to listen

vice versa

Now imma be 100% honest

Don’t @ me

I feel like it’ll take such a long time for Chris’s mother to actually like you

He’s such a mommas boy that just seeing him with another woman might make her skeptical

Ooff I’m crossing dangerous grounds here

He’s siblings and grandmother automatically loved you, but his mother was distant

Christopher has to have a heartfelt conversation with her about it beCAUSE HE LOVES YOU SM AND HE NEEDS THE WOMAN OF HIS LIFE TO ACCEPT THAT

This lowkey makes you feel like an intruder

You feel as if you’re ruining their relationship

But you’ll also have a heartfelt convo with her and at the end of the day y’all would get along once she sees how much you love and care for her son

It probably took a year for y’all to move in together

But when you do, y’all have even more fun and adventures than before

Y’all goals asf

Most of his ig stories are about you

Videos, promoting your posts etc the whole package deal

Subtle matching tattoos

You say “I love you” first and he’s all blushy and giggle which makes you all bullishly and giggly as well :’)

And y’all just make love as he repeats the words and over and over :’)

He always has his hands around your shoulder

Pulling you closer at the most random times

HUGS EVERYWHERE MAN

Omfg this man smells like christmas heaven

Just like his mom, your family wasn’t certain about him first

And by your family i mean your dad(or male figure if you’re dadless :’)

Making him sad

But you’ll do your best to convince you dad that he is a good guy wHICH HE IS!!!!

After a while, he gave Chris a shot

And that’s all you ask for Tbfh

Will subtly mention you in interviews which would cause the guys to give each other knowing stares

Just Like Richard, you receive hate after hate

BUT YALL FICKING TOO HARD TO NOTICE!!

It sometimes gets to you but Chris is always there to comfort you

Making you go all uwu

He goes full mom mode whenever you get sick

Will google your symptoms

Lowkey has a mental breakdown when google tells him that you only have two weeks to live lol

He later calls his mom and she tells him what he should do

Will try to help you with your work but he just gives you a look and gives tf up

Soft hours late at night

You guys talk about your future and marriage and kids and it just lives you all soft and warm inside

Little did you know that he feels the exact same

You’d be in his arms slightly leaning against the headboard as your dress hands play with each other fingers talking about nothing and everything

Sings to you whenever you have trouble sleeping

THE GUYS LOVE YOU

Did I mention that? Lol

Just like any new friendship

Y’all were awkward at first but after a few minutes of getting to know each other they all loved you

Especially Erick, that boy is your child and you will protect him from any danger in the world lmao

That’s it my ppl :’)

Deuces once again :’)🤙🏼

[p---leia]

Ancient Writer of dreams and nightmares: I am 71 (-one month), and have been writing (making up tales) since I was three. I can still remember my Pawpaw whittling a pencil for me, and Mawmaw tearing a piece of brown grocery bag for me to write on. They weren't 'poor', but writing paper wasn't to be wasted on a 'kid' just for fun. I carefully scripted my first short story.

Of course my 'letters' looked more like ancient Hanguel, so I had to read it to my "captured" audience. I really don't remember the story, but as my grandparents had a yard full of chickens and my dog, Mutt, liked to chase them (because of this we 'both' got into trouble -- because I always joined the chase) I most probably wrote about that.

My Pawpaw was a story-teller. For several years I thought there really was a baby found in the wilds of the African jungle and raised by the great apes. I thought he was the luckiest babe, EVER!

Then I found Pawpaw's books about three years after he died. I was eleven when he died, and felt that my best friend had abandoned me. But when I found those books I realized just where Tarzan actually came from and went to. I read everyone of those books and got the complete picture. THEN..

Well, Pawpaw also told stories of Daniel Boone and Davey Crocket...before I saw them on Disney. Then, of course, I went to school and learned what I already knew. Pawpaw was an excellent story-teller and never mixed up his facts, time-lines, or characters.

Growing up under his influence had a lot to do with how I developed as a story-teller. At family gatherings when I meet cousins I haven't seen in decades, they STILL remember me and the stories that I used to tell them. My children and grandchildren have grown up with me re-telling Pawpaw's old stories, and sharing many that I made up on the spot.

But I think what I read in my early years developed my writing style.

I was just turned eight when I read my first Shakespeare, MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM. He was my first favorite author. Then I was forced to read Romeo and Juliet. I was disgusted by the fact that TRAGEDY was made famous as a ROMANCE! Even at the innocent (then) age of fourteen, I was disgusted with the idea that it was considered romantic for 'anyone', let alone 'teenagers' to commit suicide over unrequited love.

My sister (now 68) and I recently discussed this play. Because she had a 'forbidden' teenage love, she said that she related to the story (even though she had never read it). GASP! It was required reading in ninth grade!

I remember our dad breaking up my sister and her boyfriend, who was really cool. He was a hard working farm boy who had saved his money to buy a motorcycle. AND his own car. But he wasn't good enough for my sister. smh

I always thought her story would make a great LifeTime movie. But I'm not touching it. She would 'skin me' for sharing with the world her broken heart. And if I added the stuff that sells today, she'd scalp me for lying. Not a win situation at all. So, I will write notes in my "Random Jottings Journal" for future decendants who might grow into writers or story-tellers.

By the way, the title "RANDOM JOTTINGS" came from a sci-fi book that I read as a kid in the fifties. I don't remember the author, although I'm pretty sure it 'might' be from a Heinlein juvenile book. But I've never found a reference to any sci-fi books using that term. SO!!! If anyone recognizes "RANDOM JOTTINGS", which was a note book that a professor/scientist/genius used to keep his 'thoughts', PLEASE share the author's name and the title of the book!!! Thank You.

In the meantime, I referenced Shakespeare. James Oliver Curwood wrote about Kazan, the Wolf Dog, and later Baree, Son of Kazan. From those two books, read when I was eleven, I searched for and found other books about Canada. Later there was Walter Farley, author of the Black Stallion, and the Island Stallion series. I think I met my FIRST friendly alien in the Island Stallion Races.

Of course, Edgar Rice Burroughs taught me much false history about the jungles of Africa, as well as the Moon and Mars. But I loved every 'read-under-the-covers-with a-flashlight' minute! I believe he was a contemporary of Zane Grey, because he wrote a few non-jungle and non-space stories, too. Which led me to Zane Grey.

Having read both of their biographies at a young age, I learned about the hardships of being a writer. I should say 'the hardships of a struggling writer'. I have never had a problem writing. Since I write for 'fun' and not 'profit', the few short stories I've had published were by local press, and a State magazine.

No, my struggles have centered around graduating high school, and completing college, stuggling to satisfy my husband, a 'Mr. Spock in the Flesh' personality, and later raising two children without benefit of parental support or child support. But we survived in the middle of laughter and many tears. And my made up stories about children lost in the woods who were rescued by a great friendly bear, or wolf. Or dog. And sometimes by a great Black Panther - a by product of one of my Pawpaw's 'local historical tales'.

I understand that publishers detest stories that begin with "It was a dark and stormy night.." But let me tell you, some of the BEST bedtime stories occur on stormy nights when the power has gone out, and it's too hot for candles or lanterns. That shadow that stands darkest in the corner and seems to be moving towards the bed is actually grandma come to check on the kids, and stands quiet so not to disturb the kids if they're already asleep. But since they are awake, and they see her 'shadow', she becomes the old crone who lives in the castle dungeon, and has slipped her chains to visit with the 'wee folk'. But there are no fairies out on such a blustery night, so the old crone comes to visit with the 'wee bairn', who fall all over themselves to get out of bed and sit around her to hear her stories of 'long ago' and other 'dark and stormy nights'. Again -- unpublished, because publishers don't like ... LOL

Of course there's always On-Line publishing. But that involves more work than actual writing.

Back to the writrs who influenced my writing:

While I enjoy a good Western, an adventurous space trek, or time travel, I also enjoy the occasional Historical Romance. Georgette Heyer was my first! I still re-read her amazing books. Of course there's Jane Austen.

There are a myriad of modern writers that I have read over the last five decades. Heinlen, Asimov, Norton, Bradley, McCaffrey, Moon, Stirling, Krentz/Castle/Quick, and Moening, just to name a few of the ones whose books I have in my personal library.

Those older authors did affect my writing style to develope as I read their stories. The later authors helped me to move into the late 20th century. But I'm not so sure that I like the 21st century so much. It's all about being politically 'correct'. If you aren't ashamed of your gender, your race, your country, your religion, your culture, your family, your history, then you are prejudiced. That's just too much guilt to have to live with.

I'm still dealing with my mom's death from ten years ago. I was her care-giver for five years. Her doctor had given her nine months. I still worry if I did enough for her in those last years.

And though my children are grown with their own families, I worry that I wasn't a good enough parent. And I worthy as a grandmother? How was I as an older sister? I was responsible as a moral guide when our parents were at work. Was I a good neighbor? A good support in our Church? And Hollywood wants me to feel guilt about something I can't change?!!

I'm an old woman who still likes being a woman and enjoys liking men. I'm not just white. I'm also mixed with a bit of Native American, and even a drop of -- OMG!!! --- Black. snicker.

That's a serious joke, because as a kid I had a recuring nightmare that I was a black man being judged by a group of people in white hoods I was hanged amidst their fiery torches. I always thought those white hoods represented the Catholic Church, because at that young age I didn't know about the Ku Klux Klan. Even though I grew up in the South, my family was not involved with that group of out-lawrey. Thank God!

Still, I'm supposed to feel shame? For something not even my family supported.

I've always believed there's a hint of Fae in my DNA. Because I love dancing in the light of the full moon, and flying with the owls who perch outside my bedroom window and call to invite me to follow the moon's shadow. If I am part Fae, I know it came from my mother's people. They were Irish mixed with Alabama Indians who believed in the Nunnehi aka Immortal, and the Yunwi Tsunsdi, aka Little People.

ALSO, while there's no DNA proof of ancestry, I've always been a 'closet Chinese'.

In the Fifties, when WW2 was still fresh, and we were involved with the 'Korean Conflict', and at odds with China, I would sneak around the radio, turn down the volume, and tune into 'that wierd channel' that sometimes played Opera, or Chinese music. Ahhh. I would close my eyes and wander through the few visuals I'd found in books, or the occasional movie. (before color tv)

A year or two ago I was totally depressed and disgusted with American TV. Hollywood has become so political, so wierd. Their programming is no longer for entertainment, but to 'educate, enlighten, or to inform'. zzzzz

Then I found KDrama!!!!! Korean TV. Japanese Tv. squeal!!! Chinese TV.

The rom/coms are sweet and 'pure'. Okay. I'm realistic. This is not a reflection of real life on any planet. But the innocence of the early 1950s programs is there. Similar to Disney's 'Summer Magic'. I'm happy with those dramas that remind me of thati nnocence. I have found a few dramas that shared more than I cared for, and I do enjoy an occasional 'romp'. But I've always preferred the Lady and Gentleman characters.

And watching these programs have reminded me of those fairy tales and legends from my childhood that had been sprinkled with the Occasional Oriental myth, legend, and children's tale.

Then I remembered my FIRST historical legend. "The White Stag" by Kate Seredy, is the tale of Atilla the Hun!

I recently found a copy of that book and am waiting for a quiet time, when the power is out and there's nothing to do. Then I will use one of the many flashlights I bought for a huge hurricane, and relax on the sofa beneath an open window and read this legend once again. I live in Florida. The odds of this happening increases as the summer progresses. I can't wait to learn if my memory of this tale of Atilla the Hun remained true, or has been distorted in the last half of a century.

Most of the tales that I write involve space adventures, the occasioanl ghost, and encounters with fairies, the evil ones, not the romantic ideal fairy. smh

I've never been very good with romance or comedy. But thanks to the recent influence of the Asian productions, I have re-formatted one of my dark adventures and turned it into a rom/com.

I love a good joke, but very seldom get the point or see the humor. And I can NEVER remember the punch line if I try to share a joke. My family have said they will write on my tombstone --

"I don't remember the punchline ... but it was funny."

But as I write humorous lines or events I find myself laughing. Or crying at sad events. And I am all 'giggly' when I write what is supposed to be innocent romance between a young and shy couple. But I have never felt that my own reactions were a true guide to how the story might come across to a 'reader'.

As it happens, I have two sisters younger than I am. My middle sister is bored easily and immediately redirects our conversation to something about 'her'. Okay. I understand. She is lonely, needy, and maybe a bit selfish? Not judging. She's the 'middle child' and that's her excuse. ROFL..

But the youngest sister is my greatest fan who declares that I am an awesome writer. "I love you, sister, dear."

So she visited me last week and patiently listened as I read the first chapter. She listened quietly, and I wondered if I had 'read her to sleep'. sigh. Boring books are often the best sleeping pill. Then I heard her laugh.

Squeals/Dancing/hooting/flying around the room in ecstasy!!

Okay! At least one person has laughed. And she's not that easily 'tickled'.

So, I will always carry on and write. But now I feel that at least I might be following a path strewn with "Black-Eyed-Susans, honeybees, butterflies, and bunnies".

I don't know if anyone will read this, or will enjoy it. I hope so. While sharing bits of my youth, my worries, and my concern about certain ones of my 'stories', I actually had ideas for developing 'new' stories.

I am always amazed when writers say they are 'blocked'. I have only to open my eyes to see a world around me that no one else can envision. I listen to a song, and I'm in a different world, time, planet. A gift from Pawpaw, and Mother's DNA.

It is my oldest granddaughter's birthday this month, and I don't know what to give her for her birthday. But when she was younger, she always asked me to tell her a story. I think that I will pull out one of my OLD/ANCIENT tales that I wrote when her dad was her age and make it into a book for her.

p---leia aka Mamma KayeLee

7/19/2020

[moonlit-imagines]

Like Father, Like Daughter

Bellamy Blake x Kane!reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: @everydayimfangirling: “Can I request another Bellamy Blake imagine set in s6, where the reader is Kane's daughter? Like she's a total badass fighter and engineer and she's bffs with Raven? I have no plot ideas though, lol sorry. I have total faith in you! Tysm. ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤”

You were woken up by Bellamy, he stood above you smiling as your eyes fluttered open.

“Bellamy?” You shuffled to sit up in your open pod.

“Come with me, this is big.” He extended his hand for you and helped you down. You made your way over to the main bridge of the ship and reunited with all of your friends.

“Raven!” You ran into her arms and she held you close.

“Hey there, bed head.” You both chuckled as you ruffled your hair a bit. Bellamy stood next to you and you took his hand.

“So, what’s the deal?” You asked the group. “Is Earth safe again?” Your gaze turned to a man you’ve never seen before. “And...who’s that?”

“I’m Jordan!” He told you, walking over to the shudder button. They folded up to reveal a colorful planet. “And this is Planet Alpha, our new home.”

“He’s...um,” Bellamy whispered, “he’s Monty and Harper’s son.” You��re eyes went wide immediately.

“What?!” You shouted, drawing some attention. “They never went to sleep, did they? How long have we been asleep?” Bellamy stroked your arm in an effort to calm you.

“One hundred twenty five years.” He answered you. Without a word, you left the room and went back to the pods, searching for your father. He had been sitting in this pod for 125 years, and it was only to avoid death. You rested your hand on the glass and sighed.

Part of you wished that Abby would have just let him go. The other part understood why she wouldn’t, you didn’t want to lose him just as much as she didn’t, but you didn’t know how long you could keep him in there. You were no doctor, but you knew that once he thawed, he was a goner.

Raven walked up from behind you and grabbed your hand.

“Abby will save him, she always finds a way.” Raven said softly.

“I don’t want to talk about her.” You blinked back tears.

“Yeah, me neither.” Raven rubbed her neck. “Come with me, let’s get something to eat.”

—————

You geared up and got onto the ship with Clarke, Bellamy, and the rest of the crew.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay up here with your dad?” Bellamy asked.

“I’m sure,” You took him by the hand, “we need a home and I want to help get one.” Bellamy nodded and took you aboard. You began your descent to Alpha, once you landed, you hopped off the spacecraft while the rest of them were hoping for breathable air.

“Y/N, slow down!” Murphy shouted.

“She’s not gonna slow down, Murphy.” Bellamy sighed.

“I know, but I had to try.”

—————

You found yourself in a kingdom-like village, the people perfectly nice and hospitable. You were able to stay in a cute little bar, the owners meeting your every need. It was almost like a dream. After your earlier encounter with a rotten eclipse, you decided that you needed some rest.

You walked upstairs and found a cot that looked comfortable enough. It was just to your liking, you kicked off your boots and fell into it. Honestly, it was the most comfortable thing you’d ever laid on. Despite the amount of comfort, you still had a lot of trouble sleeping. After staring out into space for a while, observing the people of this society, and planning your uncertain future, you gained a visitor.

“You okay?” Bellamy sat at the edge of the cot, breaking you from your daze. You hummed a “yes” and closed your eyes, then Bellamy moved farther upwards to lay down next to you. He wrapped his arm around you and stared into the night sky. “Why’d you come out here?”

“Just for some peace and quiet. And to look at the stars.” You turned onto your side and rested your head on Bellamy’s chest. You draped your arm across his torso and let the rhythm of his breathing take over. You slowly drifted off and dreamed of simpler times. Who knew you would miss the Ark.

Bellamy shook you awake.

“Hey, come here. They made us breakfast.” He said softly. You rubbed your eyes in an attempt to wake yourself up, then followed him to the tables downstairs.

“Morning, Princess.” Murphy greeted and you sat beside him. Bellamy sat across from you and a loaded plate of breakfast foods was set in front of you. You thanked Delilah and began to dig in.

“Do we know when we can bring everyone else down?” You asked. Clarke shook her head.

“No, not yet.” She sighed. “I’m supposed to go to the palace tonight, they’ll decide if we can stay or not.”

“Great, ‘cause I’m starting to miss Raven.” You chuckled and took another bite of your breakfast.

“And my mom will be able to save your dad.” Clarke added. You nodded, but stayed silent. Anxiety built inside you as you thought of all the possibilities that came with the situation. You were barely keeping it together, just enough for everyone to believe you were as stable as ever.

—————

They took you back up the the Eligius ship, demanding this and that so that you could turn their “nulls” into nightbloods. Abby was attempting to put your father into a new body. You protested with all your might while Raven calmly took you away. She returned to the lab to speak to Abby about her plan.

“Are you serious, Abby? You’re really going to put Kane in another body?” Raven crossed her arms disapprovingly.

“It’s the only way.” Abby told her, prepping the experiment. “Marcus will die if I don’t do this.”

“Is this what he would have wanted?” Abby stopped at this question. “It’s sure as hell not what his daughter wants. His own flesh and blood. She’s pissed.” Raven told her. “His fight is over.”

“No!” She slammed her fists down. “No, it’s not. Get out, Raven. Before you get removed.” Raven bit her tongue and left to go find you. My, my, were you upset with Abby. She was turning your father into an experiment and you knew deep down that it wouldn’t end well.

“Are you okay?” Raven sat down near where you were pacing.

“Not at all.” You told her. She reached her hand out for you and sat you down next to her. “When will life be simple?”

“Never.” You leaned on her shoulder. “But maybe it’ll be easier some day.”

“We can only hope.” You sighed and shut your eyes.

“Let’s change the subject: Whats going on with you and Bellamy?” Raven asked and you chuckled.

“No comment.” You told her and she cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t know!” You laughed and shook your head.

“You two would make a cute couple, seriously.” She nodded to herself and then frowned.

“I’m...I’m sorry about Shaw.” You took her hand.

“Me too.” She replied. Then the door opened and in came a man, the null that Abby turned into a nightblood. But it was no longer him, it was your father. He stared at you and slowly approached.

“Dad?” You stood up and walked to him, and he brought you into a strong hug.

“I’ve missed you.” He whispered. Your father then proceeded to tell you of his plan to accept his fate. You reluctantly agreed to do as he said, fighting tears of a loss that hadn’t quite come yet. Raven worked to stop Abby from seeing his tragic end, but she cracked and ran to the air lock. You stood there beside Indra, staring at a man that wasn’t quite your father through the glass.

“I love you, dad.” You placed your hand on the glass. He did the same.

“I love you, too, y/n. I’m so, so proud of you.” Tears fell from both sides of the glass, you backed up and silently sobbed until Raven and Abby ran near. Raven and you watched Abby as she said her own goodbyes. Indra spoke your people’s farewell prayer and as she finished, pressed the button to the airlock. You screamed and sobbed, Raven grabbed you tightly as you cried into her shoulder.

“At least I got to say goodbye...”

—————

You went back to the ground of Alpha, back into Sanctum. Bellamy met you in the midst of chaos, you hadn’t yet told him the news of your father’s passing. There was too much to take care of. But he knew better than that, he could read you better than anyone else could. Besides maybe Raven.

“Y/N, are you alright?” He asked you, putting his arm around your shoulders. You nodded silently and gave him a fake smile. “Please don’t hide anything from me. You know I’ll find out.” You bit your lip and closed your eyes. “Y/N?”

“My dad is dead.” You mumbled. His jaw dropped slightly.

“Oh, my god. Y/N, I’m so sorry.” He pulled you into a hug as you cried. His hugs were always comforting, you felt safe and warm.

“Abby put him into another body, so he floated himself as I watched.” You cried into his chest. He didn’t know what to say. You just kept crying. It had been a long, long time since he had seen you like this.

“Hey, shh, shhh.” He stroked your hair, running his fingers through it and rocking you back and forth slightly. “I’m here for you, y/n. Everything is going to be alright. I won’t leave your side.” He hummed a little song Clarke had taught him and let you cry yourself out, he kissed the top of your head, hushing and humming. It killed him to see you like this.

[kazsbrecker]

I just watched season 2 of umbrella academy and I just crave somr tua oc so can you tell me something about V hargreeves and Landon Grayson, I love your blog btw

Thank you so much for enjoying this disaster blog lol. TUA S2 was a wild ride that I loved and I’m happy to share some thoughts I’ve had about V and Landon. 

First, some s1 things, followed by s2 ideas under the cut because ✨spoilers✨

Season 1 V: 

I’ve been rethinking her powers. For sure, she is now able to create force fields and barriers (I might just give her the powers of Violet from the Incredibles) 

recently I changed her story between leaving the academy and the start of s1. V is the first to leave right after the mission where Ben dies.

which means she misses his funeral and it is her biggest regret in life

she’s a genius like Five, so she completely reinvents herself, changes her name, starts university at 15, determined to become her own person outside of the Hargreeves name to spite Reginald

Becomes a pioneer in theoretical physics and is determined to figure out time travel (to find Five)

Her false identity is so thorough Vanya’s book causes no repercussions in her life. (Of course, she still buys it and actually admires the spite and boldness and hopes it caused Reginald some kind of grief)

V completely hides her identity and powers from her husband James....until she is unable to control her new electric abilities, caused by her pregnancy. James freaks out a little, but then patiently listens to the entire story. He has to process, but he loves his wife and promises to always love her “no matter what else” comes.

Season 1 Landon

His middle name is Ben. 

Landon travels through time to help his Uncle Five save the rest of the family, but specifically, Landon’s mission is to save his father, who has become a target of the Commission.

He really wants to get to know the father he never got to meet

James has to take another moment to process this is his adult son who is a time-traveling assassin, but he’s a great dad and loves him.

He is very awkward around his mom and refuses to answer questions about her future. 

Hazel was actually a friend of Landon’s and they enjoyed working together in the Commission. They would eat lunch together a lot.

Season 2 V

She stays with Five, landing first in 1963 apocalypse and sees her entire family die. It deeply shakes her for the entire season.

She has a moment to speak with Grace and Reginald.

Idk how yet, but V gets to talk to Ben and she apologizes for missing his funeral and never saying goodbye.

Season 2 Landon

I haven’t decided where he ends up, but I’m currently thinking he lands in Dallas with Luther and they stick together until 1963. 

Landon falls into old habits and becomes an enforcer for Jack Ruby.

During the olga scene, Landon doesn’t say a word, despite knowing Swedish. He’s too baffled by the singular brain cell between Diego and Luther. 

He gets the chance to meet Reginald. 

[caucaxican]

i felt real bad posting this monster wall of text in the discord where the prompt was issued, so i’m putting it here lol

Did your character grow up with a strong parental figure(s)? If not their parents, who stepped into that role?

zaamir's parents were both successful and renowned arcanists, and while they were wealthy and he grew up amid eredar high society, they still weren't the most attentive of parents. they socialized with him, sure, even loved him... but they didn't take much of an interest in what he wanted to do—only what they *wanted* him to do. he had no magical aptitude, unlike his brother—who he *never* talks about in present day; nobody even knows he had one—so of course little bro was the Golden Child™ (which uh funny considering z ended up a literal golden dude but y'know). he never quite filled that void, and as a result, ended up a bit emotionally stunted. you could *never* tell talking to him, though. /sarcasm

his grandchildren fared better, though! despite never having met his son, let alone having a part in raising him, zaamir should be proud to know his son grew up to be a wonderful and involved father. granted, it was largely because seraat, sergius's mother, had to take on both parental roles, and ensured her son would not disappear on his future family like his own father did. kasmia, freiha, and their eldest sister, ianah, were all nurtured into healthy, well-rounded women by their parents. sergius taught them all about plants, though only freiha and rurik really latched onto that. nemiva taught them history and helped to instill a sense of pride and devotion toward their people. although kasmia loved her parents dearly, however, she found a greater kinship with her grandmother, seraat, who she emulated in many ways. likewise, freiha was close with her eldest sister, who she picked up a lot of her mannerisms from.

rurik never knew his birth parents, who were killed by ogres on their way home from telaar mere days after he was born. had it not been for kasmia and freiha being out and about, he wouldn't have been rescued and adopted into their family. sergius and nemiva were great parents to him, though, and are responsible for him growing up into the kind-hearted young man he now is.

jovakor's mother, nesrela, abandoned him and his father when he was only a few weeks old, leaving jovaan a single parent. jovakor adored his father and never even thought about the absence of his mother. jovaan was an inventor and artificer, the latter of which inspired jovakor to learn and take up himself. he did also share his father's creative streak, ultimately leading to him becoming an armor crafter. when jovakor was around eight years old, however, his father was murdered following an altercation with nesrela, who had attempted to kidnap jovakor to give over to the legion as a test of loyalty as she sought to join their ranks (y'know, some several thousand years after leaving argus). after the loss of his father, he was raised by anchorites, many of whom ended up being substitute parental figures for him as he grew into adulthood. his dad left his mark though, which has made jovakor aim to be the best father he can to his own daughter.

isaala's mother died giving birth to her in telredor, and she was raised for the first few years of her life by her father. however, he'd come in contact with the red mist. it took quite a long time to mutate him, and while at first he thought himself fortunate, he had no idea how badly it broke his mind before his body. he disappeared from the safety of telredor, the only thing on his mind being to get back to telaar to save his wife, who he was convinced was in danger. he scooped up little isaala and wandered out into the wilds of zangarmarsh. search parties were unable to find him—or rather the child, who they were more concerned about. in the end, he wandered off, his mind too far gone, and fell off the edge of outland. isaala was left alone in the wilderness, only around five years old. had it not been for a mag'har orc passing between the border of nagrand and zangarmarsh, she'd have died out there. deciding it wasn't proper to bring her back to his own people, and knowing he'd be killed on sight if he approached telredor, he dropped her off in shattrath. she was placed into the orphanage and raised there for most of her childhood. at the age of 15, she was adopted by rurik, who met her through his sister, freiha, and sympathized with her status as an orphan. she loves her adopted father and aunts dearly, and despite her youth, wants to be able to protect them.

[neverwatchedonepiece]

611-612: "A Small Dragon! Momonosuke Appears!" and "A Deadly Fight in a Blizzard! the Straw Hats vs. the Snow Woman!"

Caesar’s Minion: “Wait... Didn’t Vegapunk leave a man made Devil Fruit here.”

Felt the pace across this pair of episodes was a bit slower. Not a problem, though, because all the loose ends must be tied up. To to this, all plot threads must be lovingly prepared and set in place before the final, arc-ending knot is tied.

So far, Oda’s been great at that, so I’m not worried. Even if some threads are left loose, they’ll just be woven into a future plot because he planned it that way. At least Momonosuke, the last outstanding plot point, has finally wound his way onto the stage. All that remains are those elusive sea prism stone cuffs.

But there was one Huge Reveal here...

MAN MADE DEVIL FRUITS.

THEY ARE A THING.

WTF?

Your Dad Talked Through His Farts

I loved this weird little meeting between Luffy and Momonosuke.

Luffy worked on his past experience with talking dragons on Punk Hazard. First, he thought  Momonosuke would be edible (nooooooooo!) Then, he figured the child’s voice was coming from someone who was stuck on the dragon’s body and maybe Momonosuke was talking with his farts.

“How rude!”  Momonosuke seethed. These samurai are very proper people, Luffy. Gotta show some class around them, I guess.

Then little  Momonosuke’s tummy rumbled and Luffy realised the dragon kid was starving. That was sad. Instant empathy for dragon child right there.

But Momonosuke was a samurai child. They did not get hungry after only ten days of fasting. (Only ten.)  He asked who Luffy was and why he was there. When Luffy introduced himself, Momonosuke didn’t think he could be a pirate, as pirates were “all big, heavyweight men. More violent and strong-looking.”

I guess he is from an isolated island and has never seen Buggy the Clown and Galdino: the Dream Team.

Once they talked a bit more, Momonosuke said he wanted to get out of the garbage dump to help save the kids trapped in the labs. Why? He overheard Caesar saying something shocking.

On the kidnap ship bound for Punk Hazard, the other kids tried to make friends with shadowy Momonosuke. But he was a samurai type and didn’t appreciate their attempts to “give alms”. Crucially, this meant Momonosuke did not take any of the candy Caesar and Monet offered. (Nice one, Momonosuke.) In fact, he escaped and wandered the lab corridors, looking for an exit, because he had something he needed to do in his home land.

He happened to wander into the Secret Room (that everyone knows about, lol). Starving, he spotted a suspicious looking fruit in a glass cabinet. He took one look at it, smashed the glass and scoffed the fruit.

I knew it was a Devil Fruit. It was purple and had those spots on it. But I was not prepared for what Caesar’s minions would reveal.  It was a Man Made Devi Fruit constructed by none other than Vegapunk himself! The minions heard it was a failure. Obviously, that wasn’t the case, as Momonosuke morphed into a dragon, freaked out and scarpered. Maybe like Caesar’s drug, the man made DFs only work on kids? Or Caesar was lying about the fruit being a failure (seems more likely, knowing Caesar).

But... this is huge.

Man made Devil Fruits. This could turn the whole power structure of the OPverse upside down. Rich pirates could demand and receive whatever power they want. Hell, the WG could have whatever power they wanted at their disposal.

I imagine a man made Devil Fruit could go pretty wrong too. Maybe some wicked side-effects.

Caesar has some world-shattering stuff in that lab. Now I get why he has such a great booze collection. He’s probably swimming in cash from Doflamingo, who is the one who’s managed to secure his services.

And now I know what you guys were talking about when you said to look at the texture of the fruits.  Momonosuke’s man made fruit was SMOOTH. The true Devil Fruit, the one Smiley had eaten, was swirly and textured.

Luffy listened to Momonosuke’s fruit tale and was like, “You’re a Zoan type. Why don’t you just change back?”

Momonosuke didn’t know he could do that. (Maybe he can’t with the man made type?) Still, it wasn’t a priority. He had to get out to tell the other kids what he’d heard.

Caesar Makes People So Angry They Morph Into Popeye

As Momonosuke was skulking about in his new dragon form, he walked past an open door and heart Caesar and Monet talking. 

“We have another group of obedient kids. The others are growing bigger without problem. But after all, this is an experiment to see the limitations of drug dosing. I don’t think they can take it that long. I assume they’ll all be dead in five years.”

“So we’ll need more kids?” Monet asked.

“Well, experiments come with failures. It’s a necessary sacrifice. Those stupid kids can help the world’s greatest scientist and do good for the world. Even if it’s a short life, they have to be happy with it.”

Holy. Moly.

Those poor kids. It’s lucky Chopper and Nami met them when they did. Hopefully, Chopper will help them get off the drugs and they’ll be well enough to go home. I wonder about the giant kids, though. Will they be giant all their lives? Probably.

Flash forward again and Momonosuke finished his tale. All he wanted to do was save the other kids. He thought Caesar was a doctor but he was a bad man who would let kids die. Momonosuke was on his way to save the kids but fell into the trash heap. It would be a disgrace to his honour as a warrior to not help them.

Luffy’s eyes were shaded. You know when that happens, he is maaaaaaaad.

He decided to climb out of the garbage dump and take Momonosuke with him.

Luckily, he didn’t have to climb anything. Momonosuke had a weird, triggering moment when Luffy said, “Stay with me...” which unleashed a Goku/Monkey style golden cloud power. (Everyone knows from DB and Monkey that you can walk on golden clouds. “Born from an egg on a mountain top. Funkiest Monkey that ever rocked. If you’ve never watched that show, hook yourself up with an episode. It’s hilarious.)

The luck, alas, did not last. Momonosuke came to his senses and they fell back down into the heap. At least Luffy is stretchy, right?

BREAKING NEWS: Caesar Sets Morality Bar Even Lower!

Meanwhile, Caesar had kicked back in his lab, waiting for the bottleneck gas chamber carnage to unfold. Little Mocha was tearing away from the other kids, who wanted to attack her for the candy.

Naturally, she was distraught. The people she had thought were so nice: Caesar and Monet, turned out to be the worst pieces of actual shit ever.

The flashback of Caesar from Mocha’s point of view actually made my jaw drop.

Every time I think, surely Caesar can’t sink any lower? No, it’s not possible.

In true scientist fashion, Caesar continues to push the boundaries of possibility.

Mocha was one of the first kids to be transported to Punk Hazard, including the blonde kid who’s name I forgot. (Sorry, blonde kid.)

Caesar came to meet them personally when they arrived. He ramped up the charm and faux-concern, of course. “I’m glad that you made it! Good to see you. My name is Caesar Clown. Call me Master. (First red flag right there, imo.) You two are a part of my first generation of patients. I’m looking forward to working with you.” Brief interruption for a hug. I cannot believe he even hugged those kids. He is such a SNAAKE. xD  “I bet you were scared and worried when you heard you were sick out of the blue. But everything is okay now. You don’t have to worry about anything. I will treat you at any cost!” (Technically true but, kids, you will not like the treatment.)

Then he dropped the bomb that actually made me gasp.

“To tell you the truth, I lost my only son to this disease. I never want to see another child suffer from it. I don’t want to see another parent lost their child and have to grieve like me! Oh... Oh, I’m sorry. How embarrassing. I shouldn’t cry in front of you.”

I just... 

I can’t even.

I mean, Caesar is a great villain and all, but damn, Oda,  that is low.

The morality bar has not only been lowered. It is buckling under the sheer weight of Caesar’s evilness and will snap at any moment.

Why Has Zoro Not Yet Kicked Ass and Taken Names?

Monet pretty much said what I’m thinking right now. She wasn’t sure she could beat Zoro: a swordsman who uses Armament Haki trained by Dracule Mihawk himself. But for some reason, Zoro hasn’t made a move. All he’s done is parry and protect the other Strawhats.

Then again, it is a dangerous environment with a lot of friendly fire concerns. 

The Biscuit Room has devolved into a freaking riot. There are crack-candy addicted kids charging about. Mocha, the one kid who is off the candy, is an ally, so they need to be extra careful around her. Sure, they’re not in the Biscuit Room any longer, but collateral from the fight could take them out. Sanji and his G5 army of fans have appeared. Nami, Robin and Chopper are still around and have been sealed in the room by Monet’s ice wall. 

Plus, Monet is no slouch. She has some blade skills and a good logia fruit to boot.

Nami could be an asset in this fight. The Heat Egg attack has been the only one that’s really put the hurt on Monet so far. (Zoro, use that haki please.) If Nami could power up a strong heat attack, she could take out Monet.

I loved it when Monet was monologuing, debating with Chopper about her being responsible for the kids. Who planted that rebellious spirit in Mocha’s mind? Then Zoro mercilessly cut her short. He does not respect villain speeches. xD

Monet called out the Strawhats for acting like pirates. “Every day we treat the children nicely and allow them to live in great comfort. What you people are trying to do is take away these treasures from us foster parents. You people are like pirates.”

Laying aside the awful issue of gaslighting children,  experimenting on them and claiming you are anything like a foster parent (that could be an entire post in itself), Zoro’s reply was ice cold and straight to the point.

“So you have no problem with it, right?”

There’s the awesome main-character grey morality again. I really do love that about One Piece. Zoro is like Luffy in that regard. The Strawhats are pirates. They will “kidnap” kids if they have to. Though this time, the Strawhats are on the right side of the moral divide. They’re counter-kidnapping the kids to return them to their parents.

But Zoro had better hurry up and make that move against Monet if he wants it to happen any time soon.

The G5′s Grand Entrance

And I totally was not expecting a comedy gold moment to interrupt a boss battle.

Just as things were getting serious, Zoro heard the sound of Sanji’s voice in the distance. Obviously, this turned Zoro’s head and he was greeted with the sight of Sanji leading a charge of G5 soldiers.

“WHY ARE YOU LEADING THEM?” Zoro yelled.

“Oh, there’s Zoro!” Sanji shouted. “Alright guys, stick out your lower lip and make fun of him.” xD

But Zoro knows Sanji inside out, so he said, “Oi, Nami and Robin went that way.”

Unfortunately, Monet, the feathered siren, proved a distraction. Monet’s flirtatiousness is a big part of her character (she flirted with Law and Luffy for fun). It must be pretty lonely being stuck in Punk Hazard with Caesar, so it made sense that she enjoyed the attention for half a second before getting back to business.

She burned through a couple of fodders with her Ice Form (freezing and biting a chunk out of one’s shoulder was savage).

Then Tashigi made *her* grand entrance.

And she can use haki.

That was a revelation.

She has always been several steps behind Zoro. Teaming up with him to take down a villain might boost her confidence. I sure hope so, anyway.

Meanwhile...

Usopp, Foxfire and Brook (or should I say “Corpse-dono”) are still charging about, hunting for sea prism stone cuffs. Shinokuni gas is now following them, so they’ll be caught up in Caesar’s bottleneck gas chamber plan.

I’m guessing that’s where they’ll find the cuffs. If Tashigi and the G5 also end up there, Usopp could pilfer or borrow some cuffs from her. I’m just assuming captain-level Marines carry cuffs on them here. The fact Usopp willingly initiated a “let’s split up” plan and offered to work alone was pretty brave of him. Usopp definitely has got stronger and more confident in his abilities.

Must also say there was some really nice art in the Smoker vs Vergo short update in episode 611. Not an artist myself, so I don’t tend to notice or be very good at critiquing these sorts of things. But even I noticed the quality this time. Good job, whichever team worked on it. :)

There goes the morality bar again, slip slidin’ right into hell...

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Palm Reading + Mandarin | Fostered Writing Update

Hey People of Earth!

It’s been *years* since I wrote my last writing update, and seeming as though I have some time to draft this, I thought I’d pop another one your way!

This update is going to cover the writing haps from FOSTERED!

The last FOSTERED update I posted was in October, so here’s a summary of what’s happened in the last few months:

I drafted Palm Reading and Dark Room from October to November

^ And then never wrote anything in December

Literally had a crisis

What’s New

These last few chapters of this book were not happening? I’ve probably drafted a total of four chapters this entire semester because of how little time I have to write, which isn’t fun. I was having a hard time balancing writing for school, and writing for myself, so my book definitely suffered a lil bit. 

In terms of plot summary, the squad has been at a cabin in Oregon for the last few weeks. I’ve translated this to literally only two chapters, however, it will physically pain me to keep writing in this setting, so I’m moving on! The first chapter I’ll be updating you on is called Palm Reading. 

I mentioned in my last FOSTERED update that this book is currently split into two parts: part one being tentatively titled ‘Children’. PALM READING is the first chapter of part two, and also, the first full chapter at The Cabin. In my last update, I talked about the squad arriving at the cabin. I thought I’d flesh this out more in this update! (Also: I’m hoping to make a 3D model of the cabin in the future--I already have all the blueprints!)

The cabin is owned by Lonan’s (deceased) father, and is now inhabited by Reeve + Lonan’s sister, Christiane, who now goes by Anna. Bad Things happen at this cabin, which is why I’m swinging out early! PALM READING is split into five scenes:

All you have to know: the squad has travelled across the universe to cheer Lonan up because he’s going through some Tough Times. This is, of course, a very bad idea. 

Scene A:

This scene is a flashback Reeve recounts of her and her sister as children before their mother’s fancy garden party. 

Scene B:

Reeve makes French onion soup for Lonan in an attempt to cheer him up. Her estranged mother, Izzy, tries to help, to no avail. 

Tbh, this scene could be cut lol. It’s very short, and not super interesting in my opinion! Though I’m not very fond of this chapter in general. 

Scene C:

Lonan doesn't like Reeve’s soup (apparently this whole chapter is just soup?? we should just call it soup???), and dissociates when he encounters Anna’s son. He gets a lil violent and Darren steps in to save ze day (a valiant boi). 

Fun fact: I wrote an entire mini story with Lonan and Harrison, recounting the aftermath of this encounter (see more below ;))

Scene D:

Anna and Reeve hang on the porch, and Reeve fantasizes about what her life would be like if her sister was still in her life beyond childhood. 

Scene E:

Reeve leaves her sister on the porch and her and Darren have some timezzzzzz. 

Fun fact:

This chapter was originally called just PALM before I started writing this update. I wasn’t mega happy with the title, but I like it a lot more as this expansion!

Yo dis chapter the whole alphabet or what?? I’m not particularly happy with it because it’s not cohesive at all?? I found I wrote a ton of tiny lil scenes that didn’t fit together very well, lol. I think if I cut the scene breaks and integrated the chapter into three bigger scenes, this would’ve been a lot more effective. The reason most of these scenes are so tiny, is because I believe I wrote this chapter over a very long period of time. I find if I leave a chapter for too long between breaks, it just isn’t very good since I lose a lot of momentum.  

Excerpts:

I’ll share the whole first scene! Not my *favourite* scene but is ok:

Izzy made it clear it was a garden party, even though we didn’t have a garden. She’d rewritten her plans on her toile stationary from Paris, and pinned the leaflets to the fridge so the neighbours would think she looked rich. She bought a red check pinafore from the Goodwill and pretended it was designer. Her panty hose were sheer and black and made her look like an off-brand prostitute.

The neighbours would be in by three. Christiane and I set the table with the good cutlery, and hung Chinese lanterns from the doorways. Izzy lit the tea lights and peeled the carrots over the sink.

Before the guests arrived, Christiane and I played out by the marsh. We hopped puddles and skipped rocks. We practiced our Spanish in ruled notebooks even though Izzy enrolled us in French. We caught crickets and brown-bellied spiders in bug boxes, and ate crackers and deli meat, and the leftover frog legs Izzy bought from the bistro. The Tupperware sweat with chervil and nutmeg. She said, Evie, it tastes just like chicken you know, like that somehow made a difference. Izzy yelled at us for scraping our knees when we got back home. The neighbours are going to think I have savages for children. Do you know how mothers with savages for children look?

She made us wash our hair with castile soap, and pinned it back in matching chignons. She dressed Christiane in a tartan smock, and me in a tunic and skirt. She was twelve, I was ten. Izzy pulled her hair into two Dutch braids, and tied off the ends with bits of ribbon from the Christmas wrapping drawer. Dad came home from work late, and said, Izzy, baby, you’re looking so new age, and she cried and had to reapply her lipstick. 

Scene two, three, and four are like, not good, lol, so skipping to scene five!

Scene five gets a lil steamy yeepers--keeping it PG, but just a warning:

You are a system of constellations—all blinking and in order. A life sized Orion, all neon Alnitak, Alnilam, Mintaka. 

Putting this in for the Darren Roast (also lol look @ me just switching POVs):

You’re so je ne sais quois, you’re so candied and virgin, you’re so liberal, it hurts. You kiss me like we’re dating, and maybe we are. Maybe I’m your girlfriend, and you’ll take me to Thanksgiving at your mother’s, and your family will love me, and serve me cranberry sauce and tofurkey and kefir from mason jars.

That’s it for PALM READING!

The chapter I wrote after palm reading is called Dark Room. I briefly mentioned it in a vlog I’m compiling, however, I’m skipping out on writing an update on it because a) nothing is really shareable, and b) the content is kind of too difficult to explain/sift through!

The last thing I wanted to share was this lil adventure I wrote in October called Mandarin. 

MANDARIN is a short-somethin (story??? i say lightly) following the events of PALM READING, and covers Lonan and Harrison in a tent in the woods. ;) I hesitate to call it a story because it’s more just me being a shit disturber to see what I can mess up in my book in a different point of view. ;)

I can’t remember why I wanted to write this, lol. I think it’s just because I was feeling a lil stressed, and writing with my boys is always very fun. I knew things went very wrong for Lonan at the end of PALM READING, so I wanted to take some time to experiment with what exactly happened that the reader doesn't get to see.

The premise is: Harrison is being *nice* and offers to help Lonan fix his face after Darren comes in like Godzilla for his lil noggin, and things Go Wrong. 

(Also: at this point, I’ve written three *shippy* stories with these boyz, and I’ve made it my duty to compile a lil anthology of *ship* and print it out and put it on my shelf. ;))

Excerpts:

I really only included this segment because of this paragraph, not even that I love it, but because Harrison always describes Lonan with such an acute awareness to detail and its soooooooo cuuuuute:

Tangles of dark hair part down Lonan’s scalp, and drift into Harrison’s eyes. It’s getting long, now. He hasn’t had a trim in months. Harrison can measure the days since, like a personal calculator. He’s been paying attention. It’s two inches past his eyes. He hasn’t cut it since April. His skin is white, like the ivory tusks of an elephant, or the swirl of half and half. His eyes marbles of aquamarine, like an expensive China doll. Harrison would import copies and hoard them. Even though he’s bruised around the eyes, the skin puffy, and purple, he’d display him and tell everyone he’s handmade from Russia. 

same

Alrighty folks, that’s it for this update! I’m almost finished an update for a new short story, so keep an eye out for that! My semester finishes on Wednesday, so prepare to see me clutterin’ up your feed in the near future!

--Rachel

[chimchiminiekookie]

To All the Boys I've Loved Before | 1

Summary: Whenever you have a crush so intense, you write him a love letter, you pour your heart and soul onto that letter as if he'd never ever read it. Because he never does. You've never sent out the letters you've written, every handwritten word filled to the brim with you deepest desires and feeling for the person. They're your most sacred possessions... except the letters are out.

Pariring: Jungkook x reader

Word count: 7,008

Author's note: I'll update the summary and note and word count, I just need a little time, I'm deadass tired. My eyes are literally closing as I type. Alright! So i really love the book series and the movie just pushed me further to get this written. I'm just on an inspiratio binge right now. Lol. Hope you guys love it!

_______________________

When you were younger, you had a habit of collecting. Most people liked collecting rocks, or stamps, and in your little sister’s case, they collected strangely shaped crunchy leaves during the fall season. You weren’t like most people though. You liked to collect memories, and sketches of faces of people who inspired you, you collected strange cookie cutter shapes like one in the shape of a nose. It wasn’t until you were 9 when you decided to start saving the important things instead of collecting a lot of different types of a single object. Now, most people saved whales, the environment (yes to zero waste!), and even people, but that wasn’t you. You liked to save small bells, small glass objects like rabbits or hats, ribbons, and most importantly, love letters.

When you were 8, your mom gave you a teal hatbox, not too small, but not that big either, just the perfect size to put love letters in. Not love letters written to you though, you don’t have anything quite like that, you’ve never received one, but you have wrote them. Whenever you have a crush so intense, you write them as a farewell to your feelings, all your hopes, dreams, and desires for that person is fueled into that love letter, you write them as if the ones the letters are addressed to will never read them, because they never will, you never send them out and you never will. Once you finish the letter, it’s as if the feelings are gone, you’re able to go about your day not wondering what they were doing or who they were with, whether they liked to dip fries into ketchup or squirt ketchup all over them.

Every boy you’ve ever seriously liked in the past has one - there are a total of five boys. Chani from Camp Wakanaka, Kookie from middle school, Park Jimin from Model UN, Hoseok from Freshman Homecoming, and -

“Hey there Poppy, where’s Y/N?” your head pops up in the direction of your closed door.

You rush downstairs, just in time to see your big sister Irene and Namjoon holding hands while walking towards the kitchen. Kim Namjoon is your next door neighbor, but he spends almost every waking moment over at your house. Everyone in this house loves him, your dad who is a gynecologist has been surrounded by girls his whole life, which is why your dad loves him like a long lost son, your youngest sister Poppy, who everyone calls Pop loves him, especially when they play uno, and Namjoon lets her win all she wants without ever getting bored like Irene and I. For your older sister Irene? Well she loves him because everyone at home loves him, especially for that reason.

Everyone sits around the dinner table, as Namjoon passes your spot to get to his directly across from you, he ruffles your hair like a big brother would do to a little sister and gives you a fist bump, your dad who’s made another Korean Delicacy is already trying to saw through the charcoaled ribs. You and your sisters call your dad’s Korean food delicacies because they were just that. You’d never be able to find food quite like that, even in Korea, although you also wouldn’t be able to digest it correctly either.

Irene, ever the competent one, silently stands up to collect the tray and brings it to the kitchen where she fires up the electric knife.

Pop groans, “Ugh, I can’t believe we won’t see her until Thanksgiving.” she pouts.

“Which is why you should do the dishes tonight instead of Rere.” Rere is what you called Irene, pronounced like the singer, “So she doesn’t have to stay up tonight and she can finish all her packing and be ready early tomorrow morning for her flight.”

Pop rolls her eyes at you, “I said I couldn’t believe it, not that I want her to be on time tomorrow.” she takes a sip of her water, “And besides, the only reason I said that was because she’s not gonna be around anymore to give me rides to school, so now I’m stuck with you.”

Of course, in this household, your dad and Irene were the ones everyone counted on to drive. Last year, you and Pop would always catch a rude to school with Irene, but now that she’ll be leaving, you have been given the responsibility to drive Pop to school, and you were a terrible driver.

“Well, you guys could always get a ride with me.” Namjoon offers, “Besides, I’m not going anywhere.” He offers you a wink and you can’t help but smile.

“What I miss?” Irene comes strolling in, tray of cut up pork ribs in her hands and saying that she looks like the perfect stay at home mom would be an understatement, but that isn’t Irene.

Poppy giggles deviously, “We were just talking about how much of a bad driver Y/N is.”

“But we were also talking about your flight and how you won’t be coming home for Thanksgiving this year, so…” He holds up his index finger in anticipation as he dug around his pocket for a folded up piece of paper, handing it over to Irene, “I thought I’d bring a little piece of home to you.” his face and smile is bright, waiting for Irene to run over and hug him, but that never happens.

You look over at Irene who stopped putting pork ribs on your plate, “You already booked the ticket?” her face is dowbcast, her eyebrows knit together and her mouth a thin line, Irene was not happy.

Namjoon’s smile dissipates in realization, “ W-well yeah. I’ve had my google alerts set on for flights to Scotland ever since you decided you’d go to university there.”

The room is tense, so tense, that not even your dad is smiling, just looking between Irene and Namjoon because he’d never know who to side with on this one, and then just when you’re about to excuse yourself to your room to give the two their privacy, Poppy speaks up, “Mmmm, just like how mom used to make.” she gives a fake smile and scrunches her nose slightly, not even trying to make us believe that she’s telling the truth.

You sat at your desk which was propped against the window, and while you had your glue gun in your hand to continue on your scrapbook for Irene, you look past the window right at Irene and Namjoon as they bickered intensely, Irene was mad that Namjoon caught her blandished and embarrassed her in front of the family, while Namjoon was mad because Irene didn’t even seem the least bit happy about his surprise for her. Then that was it. You decide to close your curtain because this was none of your business, it felt intimate, something Irene’s little sisters shouldn’t be seeing, so instead, you go downstairs to bake some snickerdoodles for Irene to bring onto the plane tomorrow.

Whale rolling the dough into small balls in the palm of your hand, Irene comes in, silently closing the door behind her no Namjoon in sight. She sits at the island and starts typing on her already opened laptop. You two continue like that, you silently baking, and her silently typing.

“I broke up with Namjoon.”

The cookie dough ball falls right off your palm as your eyes widen and your mouth is agape, “What?! Wait, what? How? Why? When? Seriously?”

Her voice is straight, steady, not even a quiver of sadness, “It was time.” she shrugs, “Mommy always told me never to go to college with a boyfriend.”

She looked fine, not even a trace of a single tear, no, because that wasn’t Irene. Irene was always fine, she never cried and she always remained calm, and even when she wasn’t fine, she was.

You grab the ball of dough that fell in the sugar bowl earlier, “Well, I don’t see the point, Rere.”

She stops typing on her laptop to look at you, “The point is, Y/N. I’m going to a university thousands of miles away, keeping a relationship with him just isn’t practical. 95% of long distance relationships don’t last, I was just saving him future heartbreak.”

Ah, yes. This was a hundred percent Irene, always thinking with her head and never her heart, “Won’t work out? You can’t be serious, this is Namjoon we’re talking about, there is not a single guy out there who has ever loved a girl as much as he’s loved you.”

She rolls her eyes at that, but it was true, Namjoon loved Irene like no boy has ever loved a girl, in his eyes, there was only Irene, nobody else.

She shuts her laptop, already looking like she’s going to lecture me, “Mommy always said not to have a boyfriend in entering college because she never wants us to be the type of girls who cried to their boyfriends on the phone and say no to things and experiences instead of yes.”

She really thinks Namjoon will hold her back? Looking at Irene now, Was Scotland the first yes? To throw away a two year relationship because she was afraid that saying no to Scotland would be one of her biggest regrets? Were we also sacrifices she had to make for her dreams?

You walk over to sit next to Irene, “It’s just my two cents, but I don’t think Namjoon would ever hold you back. I remember when you ran for student body president and even though Namjoon wanted to run, he supported you throughout and was even here at god knows what time just to make your posters. He’s always supported you, Rere.” You look over at the clock, “If you hurry, it’s still not too late to go over there and take back what you said. I’m a hundred percent sure Namjoon would gladly get back together with you.”

Irene shakes her head, “It’s been done, Y/N. I’ve already decided.” If there’s one thing I know about Irene, it’s that when she makes her mind up about something, that’s it. She never changes her mind.

When you’ve finished up in the kitchen and Irene’s gone to bed, you climb up to your room, you grab your teal hatbox and set it on your desk, you look over at Namjoon’s house, his light was still on. You take the top off of the teal hatbox, the letters were neatly on top of each other from oldest going up, your latest love letter on the top most of the small stack all of them neatly tied together with a silver fabric ribbon that goes beautifully with your teal hatbox, you found it at a yard sale tied to a teddy bear that you gave to Poppy.

In your neat cursive handwriting is ‘Kim Namjoon’ along with his address and zip code below, this Kim Namjoon is the same one next door who was still up trying to make sense of what just happened, he is Irene’s Namjoon, but before that, he was your Namjoon. You smile sadly at the letter just before putting it back in the hatbox and putting the hatbox away on your topmost shelf in your closet. Absolutely nobody knew about your letters, they were your most private and sacred possessions.

___________

“Y/N, hurry up! I have to be at the airport three hours before my flight!” Irene’s obviously already prepared, without a beat.

Meanwhile, you’ve been debating on whether you should wear sunglasses or not for at least 10 minutes, you decide to bring them anyway, and just not wear them if you decide against it.

“Three hours? Honey, I think it’s supposed to be two. What are you gonna do there for three hours?” Your dad loads Irene’s suitcases in the trunk.

You look over at Namjoon’s house, just as Irene gets in, you see him sitting on his car’s opened hood, that pained expression on his face, his eyes red and swollen, he’d been crying over your sister. When you were growing up, Irene always had a Philosophy, if something no longer useful, you either donate it, recycle it, or throw it away. Looking at Namjoon now, you always knew that’s how Irene felt about objects… but you knew thought that she’d feel that way about a person.

At the airport, Irene’s giving her last goodbye hugs, strictly no tears, because Irene hates emotional goodbyes.

She pouts cutely at Poppy, “C’mere kid.” she opens her arms to Pop who’s already in her arms.

She looks over to you, the one standing the farthest away, and opens her arms silently, you want to be mad at Irene, to pick a University thousands of miles away, to leave you all behind, but you don’t think you could handle becoming the no that your mother warned her about, so you walk into her arms, as she gives you an extra tight squeeze.

“Gonna be okay?” she mumbles into your shoulder.

You break apart first, sticking your hands in your pockets, “Did you really have to pick the farthest college you could think of?”

She places her hand on your cheek, slowly caressing it, “You know I’m just a skype call away if you guys need me, Y/N.”

You stare down at your boots, “Yeah, maybe, until you start going to pubs and hanging out with Scottish University students and eating- ugh, Haggis and then you’ve already forgotten about us.”

She give you a tiny smile, a very Irene smile, “Y/N, I can promise you on my grave that I would never ever eat Haggis.” she makes a disgusted face, “You’re in charge now, alright? You the biggest sister now, you need to set a good example for Poppy alright? Also, don’t forget to clean your room when you get home.”

Your dad and Poppy come back with a small stack of magazines, something you already know Irene wouldn’t read. Knowing her, she’s already packed her favorite series of books for reading on the plane. You all give Irene one lads group hug, before she’s squirming from underneath your small hugging pile.

“Alright, I gotta go.” she grins at the three of you, looking the happiest she’s been in a long while, “See you on Christmas!” she blows kisses to everyone and then all the three of you see is her back.

You put your arm around Pop’s shoulders, “Think she’ll turn around, Y/N?”

You shake your head no quietly, “Nah, that’s not Irene.” you wish you were wrong, but you weren’t. Things with Irene were always definite, no turn backs, no looking behind, and this was one of those moments.

The moment between you three was a tender one, at least until Poppy goes, “Can we have a dog now?” and your dad is in stitches laughing at the great attempt to take advantage of the situation.

For the next week, all you do is scrapbook, try to clean your room, and lay around. No sign of Namjoon at all since he and Irene broke up, and all too soon, it’s already the morning of your first day of class.

You wait outside in front of your house holding up small rectangular chalkboards with your grade number on it, you with a Grade 11 board and Poppy with a Grade 6 board. You dad holds up his phone, and he instantly notices how difficult you were being. Honestly it was because of the thought that you were going to be driving.

He puts the phone down, “Come on, Y/N. It’ll only rake a second, I’m gonna send this to Irene.”

You sigh before giving him a smile, with Poppy next to you, smiling brightly while yelling, “Cheese!”

He puts the phone down after taking a few shots, “I can’t believe it.” He shakes his head fondly, “6th grade and Junior year.”

You put the chalkboard down, “Alright, ready to go?” you turn towards Poppy.

She looks at you, and then to the keys in your hands before she jumps in realization, “Wait just one sec!” she pushes her chalkboard in your hands before rushing inside and coming back outside equally as fast except this time, she had a pink sparkly helmet on.

You dad takes the chalkboard from you hands, getting in his car, “You guys look great! Drive safe alright? I gotta get going. I love you guys!”

You hold a small hand up quietly as a good bye and you turn towards Poppy, frowning, “Very funny.”

She looks at you while adjusting the straps, “Very necessary.” she states in a matter of factly tone.

________

You walk through the hallway, passing by Namjoon’s locker right as he’s unloading his books, your eyes meet, and then he gives you a slight wave that you return while walking backwards, slamming straight into someone’s locker, shutting the metallic door.

“Ow!”

You instantly straighten yourself out, you knew that voice, “Oh my God! Tzuyu!”

She turns to you, eyes wide, already angry and she speaks through gritted teeth, “Excuse you.”

“I-I’m so sorry.” You shake your head, “I was- I wasn’t paying attention.”

She folds her arms across her chest, voice dripping with disgust, “Oh. It’s you.”

Tzuyu. This is Tzuyu, you two used to be best friends, playing together all summer, and her sleeping over at your house for weeks, sharing secrets and telling each other your crushes, but after middle school with reasons having to do with her becoming popular and your lack thereof you two were now decidedly not. Tzuyu was beautiful, most girls in high school are pretty, but Tzuyu’s level of prettiness was top notch even up against college girls, much so that when you asked Namjoon who he thought was the prettiest girl was for each grade level during your freshman year, he picked Tzuyu out of all the Freshman girls, including you.

She stares at you up and down, “Cute boots.” she gives you a smile oozing with plasticity, “Gonna go around stomping on cockroaches with those? I’ll be sure to call you if I find a cockroach in the girls bathroom later.”

Your voice is stuck in your throat, you were always prepared for Tzuyu, but not this time this time around you didn’t even expect to see her on the first day, much less have a confrontation with her. You head starts to lower when an arm finds it way draped around your shoulders.

“And they’re the bomb! Those are definitely hard to pull off, and you, Y/N are definitely pulling them off.” She looks down at Tzuyu’s stiletto clad feet, “Can’t wait to see you in P.E running in those… eye pokers, cous.”

Lalisa. Lisa, Tzuyu’s cousin, your best friend. Practically your only friend, she had a habit of disappearing and sneaking out, usually to go dancing, Lisa loved to dance, but her mom hates it when Lisa does so, saying she’d never have a solid career through dancing. You loved it when Lisa dances though, she looks like a wood nymph in your eyes whenever she dances.

Tzuyu’s eyes fire up, already pissed at seeing her cousin this early in the morning, Lisa’s hatred for Tzuyu was completely mutual, “Oh screw you, Lalisa, at least I don’t hook up with a different guy every other night.”

Ah, yes. Lisa does have that reputation. She never comments on it, but you’ve known her and been with her long enough to know that these rumors were absolutely true. But that’s part of the reason why you two get along so much, you never say anything about it because you didn’t need to, even if that’s how she is, you’ve always accepted her, and all without her needing to say anything.

A voice calls out from the students passing by, “Babe.” and then in front of you, the golden boy himself Jungkook embraces Tzuyu from behind.

Tzuyu never takes her eyes off of you, “oh, hi~” her voice is sing song, taunting that you don’t have what she does, Jeon Jungkook.

She grabs onto his arm draped across her chest that connects with the hand he has on his bicep, “How are you?”

You see the way Jungkook looks at Tzuyu, nothing but affection, but even he can’t be blind at how much of a bitch his girlfriend is.

“I’m good, how are you?” Seeing Tzuyu like this, it made you sick, not in the jealous type of way, much the sickly sweet type of way. Ugh.

He raises his eyebrows, “I’m good.” He turns his sight from Tzuyu to you and Lisa, and gives you a tiny nod.

If you think of your letters in your teal hatbox, second to the bottom of your small stack of letters is for Kookie. This is him now, Jeon Jungkook, golden boy, but back the in middle school, he was just plain old Kookie. By eighth grade, he was finally allowed to play in the soccer club at school and ever since then he’s never been called Kookie, he was either, Jungkook, Kook, J.K., or Jeon, eighth grade was also the year Tzuyu and him started going out.

“I was just asking Y/N here to be a dear and put her boots to good use and squash some stupid cockroaches.” Jungkook’s mouth falls into a thin line, unable to say anything.

You give the couple a practically murderous close mouth smile, afraid that if you open your mouth in anyway, you’d just say something you regret and you exchange a look, the look, with Lisa. She gives you the same one, yeah. She understand completely.

“I see someone we need to say hi to…” she looks over a you and rolls her eyes, “Bye.” and the she’s off.

She didn’t. But that was her way of showing you how much of an outcast you were, she was someone important who needed to say hi to people, and you were nothing. It worked. Jungkook clears his throat.

“She’s on this new no caffeine diet. I think that’s just withdrawal kicking in.” he laughs awkwardly.

You smile at Jungkook, “Are you sure she’s not just psychotic?”

Lisa snorts a laugh, “Yeah or maybe she’s possessed, you know Kook, it you want, I know an exorcist. I’ll send you the number later.” she gives him a cheeky wink.

Come lunch time, you are stuck standing in the middle of the cafeteria. You know, you know. This is a high school cliché, but it’s real. There was no place for you here. The only ones who ate in the cafeteria are the popular kids and groups of friends, and that includes Jungkook with his soccer buddies and Tzuyu’s snotty group of friends, all you had was Lisa, and even then, she’s already ditched you to grab a bite at Subway.

It takes you half of the lunch period to find a place to quietly eat your carrots, and even the you’re unsure if you could go there just because that spot was sacred. It was Namjoon’s and your spot and when Namjoon and Irene got together, it became Namjoon’s, Irene’s, and your lunch spot. You half expect Namjoon to eat somewhere else, like his Comic Club or his movie club room but he’s here with an open bag of chips next to him, and an earphone popped into one ear while he reads Paulo Coelho. You approach him slowly, easily, he looks up, he looks kind of taken aback at your hidden presence, but he puts his earphones away nonetheless.

He gives you a small sad smile, “Hey.”

You inch closer to the bleachers, “This seat taken?”

He scoots just the tiniest bit to his right, “Yeah, well, by you I mean.”

You plop down next to him, it all feels awkward and you’re about to speak up on it, when he lifts his head.

“Sorry.” He places his bookmark in his book, “I gotta ask… Did you know? Like did Ire- Did she tell you she was gonna do it?”

You notice his voice cracks just the tiniest bit at the mention of Irene’s name so he corrects himself and refers to her as ‘she’

He kicks some invisible dust on the ground, “I just- I don’t know. I figured you guys talked about everything, right? So…”

You could hear the pain in his voice. No matter how calm he remained, you could hear the quiver, the nerves he had to go through to ask just this one simple harmless little question. You shake your head, “No, she didn't tell me about this.”

He sighs, looking at the ground and shaking his head, “But, like, we’re still good right?” This makes you smile, “We can still talk, and I can still come over for dinner.”

“Of course you can Namjoon, my dad would probably ball his eyes out if he didn’t see you at least once or twice a week.” you laugh.

He looks back at you, “Heh. Yeah, I guess you’re right. I guess, I just don’t wanna lose you too.”

That’s when you smile disappears, because hearing, ‘I don’t want to lose you.’ and ‘I don’t want to lose you too’ are two largely different statements. One meant he didn’t want to lose you, he couldn’t handling losing you alone, but the other meant he couldn’t lose you and your sister, your sister especially, you were still only second to Irene.

“We’re still cool Namjoon, but I refuse to become a child of divorce from this breakup.” you giggle, opening your bag of carrots, “Want a carrot?”

He nods slowly finally putting the closed book in his hands down beside him, “Yeah, alright, Give me the carrot.” He offers you an earbud, the other already placed on his ear as the two of you munched on carrots.

This may seem like it looks strange, but it was real, it was genuine, the two of you were okay, maybe even better than okay, and whatever feelings you had for Namjoon? Well, that’s the one thing you’d never in a million years do to Irene.

__________

Poppy takes off her helmet upon getting off the car and inside the house, “Y/N, are we having scrambled eggs again for dinner?” she rolls her eyes.

You gulp, one of the things you were avoiding was grocery shopping just because you were still scared of driving, but even you had to admit that eating scrambled eggs for dinner was terrible and frankly? It was very unhealthy, “No, I’ll go get groceries, just do your homework and if anyone knocks, look who it is first before you open the door.” you put your backpack down on the sofa and grab your wallet and keys.

The trip to the grocery store is a nightmare, but you do manage to get there without a scratch, that is enough to put you at ease, enough to have you making different turns at shortcuts that would normally put you off because knew you wouldn’t be able to recognize these street signs and the only thing that would help you get home are the landmarks you pass by, like that doggy playground, when you passed by that, you were still in the middle, not too far from home, but not too close either, probably a ten minute drive, or a twenty minute walk. The moment you see the playground, you are absolutely ecstatic, you grin from ear to ear, unknowingly running a stop sign and just as fast as you got excited over the dog park, you were shell shocked at the sudden impact from a car that crashes straight into the side of your car. You stay in your car, hands and knees shaking, afraid. The other driver pulls over, gets out of his car and knocks on your window. Slowly you roll then down.

“Kid, running a stop sign is dangerous-” he begins his lecture but the moment he sees the tears already welling up in your eyes, he sighs, “Look, my car’s fine, I won’t be able to help you with your car, but if you want I can give you a ride home.”

You quickly shake your head, “No! It’s-it’s fine, I’ll just call my neighbor. Thank you though.” If Irene were here, she’d tell you to never trust strangers and never get in a car with them, but then again, jf Irene was here, you wouldn’t even need to drive in the first place. He gets back in his car and drives off as you stand next to your car, what would your dad think, what would he say? What would Irene say? Oh God, she’ll be so disappointed.

A minute passes before you decide to call Namjoon, on the second ring he answers, and you can’t help but cry.

“Hello? Y/N? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

You sniffle and try to sound as clearly as possible, “Namjoon? C-c-could you come get me? I’m here at that dog park, I just got in a car-car accident.” you try to choke back the tears.

You hear the intake of breath he makes when you mention ‘car accident’, “Shit, where are you? I’ll come get you.”

You look around, not seeing any street signs, “I-I-I’m by this dog park-”

“That’s like twenty minutes away.” he sighs, “Alright, I’m on my way I’ll have to walk though, so I can drive your car home.”

You sniffle, “Yeah, that’s fine.”

He pauses for a moment, “Want me to stay on the phone while you wait?”

You shake your head before realizing that he couldn’t see you, “No, no, no. It’s okay. I’ll manage. See you in a bit.” you hang up first, because knowing Kim Namjoon, he’d never let you wait by the roadside for him without any company.

A few minutes tick by before you decide to sit on the curb with you head bowed on your knees.

“Y/L/N? Hey. You good?”

You look up. to find Jeon Jungkook, his left elbow placed on his opened window and his right hand on the wheel.

You blink a few times at him, “Yeah, I’m good.” with a tear stained face, you know it looked far from the truth, but what would you expect Jungkook to do about it? You make a hand motion to get him to go on his way and he rolls up the tinted window of his Audi, and goes off, except he only goes forward a few feet and parks his car right in front of yours and gets out of the car, sitting on the curb with you.

“It looks pretty bad.” He takes a look at the dent on the side of the car, is the other driver okay?”

You put your head back on your knees, turning your head to look at him, “No, his car was completely fine.”

He goes back and sits next to you, and places his head on his knees as well, staring back at you, “So, how long have you been crying?”

You quickly wipe at your cheeks with the sleeves of you shirt, “I-I wasn’t crying. You don’t have to keep me company here, you know.”

He looks up, as if he were thinking of something, “Yeah, I know, but I can’t leave you here either.”

This is one of Jeon Jungkook’s charms. Everybody loves him, everybody. Even back in middle school when you, Tzuyu, Jungkook, and Jimin hung out together, he was still the best among everyone there. Of all the boys you had gone to middle school with, Jungkook was the first to grow taller, he was always optimistic, and had this boyish charm about him that he still had to this day.

His phone makes a sound and automatically he unlocks it to find numerous texts from Tzuyu, “You should get going. Tzuyu’ll get mad if you’re late.”

He stands upright, “You good here though, right? You already feel better?”

You nod your head, “Yeah. Thanks for keeping me company, that was really nice of you.”

The grin on Jungkook’s face is unmatched, Jungkook loves positive reinforcement, “See you around, Ace.” and then he’s off.

You smile at the nickname. He gave you that nickname back in the 7th grade when you were able to get all straight A’s even though Mrs. Bae’s Biology was one of the hardest classes to pass and almost everybody got a C or lower, except you.

“Hey.”

You look up and relief washes over you, “Namjoon!”

He gives you a dimpled smile, “Come on, let’s get you home.”

The ride back home is quiet, but not because it’s awkward, but because you were worrying about how you’d tell your dad. You decided that maybe, first telling him not to get mad would be the best choice and then explaining that you aren’t hurt but there’s a huge dent on the car after the accident. That’s probably the one that will make him less angry.

Namjoon chuckles from beside you, “Now that your sister’s broken up with me, you won’t even talk to me?”

You could sense half a truth in his statement, even is he laughs it off like a joke, you don’t answer, but he continues on talking, “You know, me ending up with Irene, surprised me as well.” he shakes his head thinking about it, “Especially since I had a crush on you first.”

You almost gag on air, did he just say he had a crush on me?

He laughs awkwardly, “I mean, when we first moved here, i had a pretty big crush on you, and I even let you borrow my bike, and you were putting on such a show about how you knew how to ride a bike but it turns out you didn’t even know how to use the brakes and when it fell over, you cried so much, and that was the end of my little crush on you.” he laughs, “You looked really ugly when you cried back then.” he teases you.

He pulls to a stop in your driveway, “Want me to come with you to break the news?”

You think back to that whole lecture Irene gave you about being responsible now so you suck it up, and even though you do want Namjoon there just so your dad feels extra happy to see him, you decline, “Nah, I’ll handle it.”

He holds his hands up in surrender, “Whatever you say.” He starts walking away before he looks back, “I’ll come over for dinner tomorrow so tell your dad to make something extra delicious for you guest.” he gives you a wink.

When you break the news to your dad, he isn’t even mad, just relieved that you’re alright, but he does take it to his go to repairman which is at least two to three towns over, that leaves you in charge with Poppy.

So you laze around in the couch, watching 10 Things I Hate About You with Poppy.

“I miss Namjoon.” she sighs.

You shrug, “Yeah, movies don’t feel quite the same without him around, huh?”

Poppy looks over at you, “Yeah! His Heath Ledger impressions are spot on!” she pouts, “By the way, Y/N?”

You sit up, alarmed at the sudden seriousness in Poppy’s voice, “Hm?”

She lays her head in your lap, “Don’t you find it just the ittiest bittiest pathetic that it’s Saturday night, and you’re spending it watching rom coms with your 11 year old sister?”

You brush her hair with your fingers and shrug, “Not at all. I love romcoms and more importantly, I love hanging out with you.”

She lets out a sigh and shuts her eyes, “Alright, well I’m not telling you this to embarrass you or anything, but I’m 11, and I even cancelled a sleepover, to be here tonight, but you’re already 16, and I don’t think you even had anything to do tonight.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “Uh, that is mean, Pop!”

Poppy sits up, shrugging, “The truth hurts, Y/N.”

Come end of the movie, you’ve already fallen fast asleep right after Heath’s big number for Kat.

__________

You run track with Lisa, you’d think her long legs meant that she’d be great at this but you’ve only just started and she’s already wheezing and coughing, but she catches up to you nonetheless probably also because you did slow down just for her sake.

“So… what did… you do last night?” she has to take breaths in between to keep from wheezing anymore than what she was even when she wasn’t talking.

“I watched some movies with Pop.” you shrugs, “James Gordon Levitt is hot.”

She rolls her eyes, “I told you, you should have come with me to that hooping event in the town over, I even got to become a hula hoop girl and everything!” she begins to lag behind you again, “And just so we’re clear, Heath Ledger is hottie in that movie.”

“Hey!” you look behind to find Jungkook already running towards the two of you, “Hey, can I talk to you?”

You look at him incredulously, “Me?”

He nods slowly, “Yeah.”

Lisa takes advantage of the situation so she can stop running, “Hey JK, I hear my cousin dumped you for some college hunk, is that true?”

He scoffs and looks away, ego definitely injured, “Yeah, Lisa, I hurt you have horns, is that true as well?”

Lisa laughs out loud, “Of course it is! I mean the devil’s my cousin afterall.” you can’t help but giggle at that one.

“Alright, well I need to talk to Y/N.”

Lisa has her arm over your shoulder, “Alright, go ahead, we’re listening.”

He places his hands on his hips when Lisa doesn’t move, “Alone please?”

Lisa gets the meaning behind the words slowly, but she still saves face, “Oh, yeah, just uh, if you any one of you need me, I’ll be in the nurse’s office, ogling Taeyong over there, running track shirtless.” she shoots you a wink.

You clasp your hands together, “Alright, sorry about Chris.”

He wrings his hands together, thinking of what he needs to say, “Uh, ehem. I just wanted to that that um. Look, I appreciate it, but it’s never gonna happen. I mean I think it’s pretty cool that you think I have golden specks in my eyes, but Tzuyu and I just broke up.” he even shakes his head in emphasis.

You tilt your head in confusion, genuinely confused at what he was going on about, “Excuse me?”

He claps his hands together when he remembers something else, “That also reminds me!” In a quiet voice, Jungkook clarifies “Just so you know, I really don’t have any STDs. I’m perfectly clean.”

Huh? STD’s when have you ever? You stare at him, your mouth wide open in both shock and confusion, “ I don’t remember ever saying you had an STD!”

He maintains the quietness in his voice but he definitely sounded angry, “Also, I don’t always take the last piece of pizza, at least not when I know somebody wants it.”

Everything Jungkook was saying was news to you, you two have barely talked since eighth grade, what do STDs and Pizzas have to do with anything, “Sorry, but what are you talking about?”

He looks frustrated, “That’s what you put. In your letter. You wrote that I’m this egotistical boy who gives girls STDs. Remember?”

Letter? You haven’t written one in a while, much less, one to Jeon Jungkook, “What letter? I don’t recall ever writing you any letter!” Actually, you did, but he doesn’t know that. It couldn’t be that letter because that letter is stashes safely in your teal hatbox at home.

He chuckles butterly, “Yes. You. Did. It was addressed to me, from you. If you’re gonna write me a letter like that, at least remember what you put into it.”

This isn’t happening. This isn’t reality. You must be dreaming. What Jungkook is doing in your dream? You’ll never know, but this can’t possibly be real.

He starts mumbling to himself, “Alright, you don’t remember, hold on.” he fishes around in his pockets before settling on his back pocket and pulling out a classy looking envelope made of specialty paper, your specialty envelopes for letters and whatnot and oh God, he has his letter. You feel lightheaded and before you lose consciousness, you hear Jungkook yell out before it all goes to black.

“Y/N? Y/N. Hey, are you alright? I think you fainted.” Jungkook’s already kneeling next to you, helping you up when you tell him that you were okay.

His eyebrows are furrowed, “Want me to get someone? Anyone? Maybe get you some water or anything?”

You shake your head, “No, no, I’m good. But I will take that back, you yank the letter out of his grasp, and then you get the impulse to look up at the lunch tables near the grass area, and already making his way towards you was Kim Namjoon, blue envelope in his hand and his messenger bag in the other.

Realization hits you, “Oh my God.” you number as you remember every kiss you witness between him and Irene, all the tiny smiles he gave you, you had to do something about this, and the fact that he wasn’t even stopping and has shifted his sight onto you already has you panicking, “Oh my God!”

In that moment, you do what you can. You grab Jungkook by the shoulders and push him towards the ground, kissing him, he’s in shock but he does end up kissing you back, even securing his hands on your back and waist. You pull apart from him when Coach Sand gets your attention, making you run three extra full laps.

You look at Jungkook, his eyes wide and confused, you pat him on the chest, “Thank you.” you manage to say.

He looks at your retreating figure, his letter clenched tightly in your hand, “You’re welcome!”

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

For the character asks: 4, 10, 11, 23, and 24! :D

Ack! Thank you! Based on this post.

Also, I like to ramble about my beloveds, so this got long, so I’m putting it under a cut (assuming I’m technologically literate enough to figure out how XD)

4. A character you rarely talk about?

Okay, so ironically I don’t think I’ve ever talked about Alicia on here, which is funny because she is my First Character™ and I Love Her. She’s who baby Alison wrote when I was twelve, and Alicia was also twelve, and she was basically me (obviously). She’s still … probably closest to me, but she’s her own person now, and I love her dearly. She’s from Near Future Earth (the story’s called Hover City Q, currently, and I’m proud of the worldbuilding), and she’s a lovable juvenile delinquent who’s buddies with half the police force because they can’t not like her (even though they frequently have to detain her because she does Illegal Shenanigans in the name of freedom? I think? The plot still needs work lol but I do so love the whole cast). She’s a computer whiz, and hates school, and sleeps too late, and wears bright yellow shoes, and has a troubled past with the foster care system but has acquired The Best Family (read: little bio sister, older non-bio foster brother, best foster mom in the history of the world), and is sarcastic to a fault, and she’s my first favorite, so it’s a shame that I don’t talk about her, but I’m just not quite sure where her story is because she’s been such an integral part of my writing existence.

10. Introduce an OC with a complicated design?

Honestly, I’m not entirely sure what this question means? I feel like it might have a basis in video games or art, which is not where my OCs come from. But I think the most “complicated” physically is Mo, who’s from Angel Wings. She’s five, and she’s a human-avian hybrid child. But not, like, angel-body type human-avian hybrid child: She’s got a human head and neck and face, but also prehensile monkeyesque feet because instead of arms she’s got enormously oversized wings that don’t fold neatly and she ends up rocking on to locomote. She’s … kind of a mess, honestly, but she is a happy and well-loved semi-flight-capable child. Just awkward. And feathery. And, yes, her description needs work in the current manuscript. It’s a Work In Progress lol.

11.Is there any OC of yours you could describe as a “sunshine”?

I mean, I have a character who’s actual real life name is Sunny Song–does she count? She could, possibly. I do so love her. She has sunshiny tendencies. But, flip side, she’s also a supervillain, so … maybe not.

Alternatively, we have Misha, who’s two and Adorable, or Jessie, who’s Alicia’s twelve-year-old sister. Apparently “sunshine” in my head means “wonderful little siblings” (Lucius’s and Alicia’s, respectively).

23. Introduce OC that has changed from your first idea concerning what the character would be like?

Confession time: I have a systemic problem with First Draft Baddies Not Actually Being Baddies. Like … it’s bad. Really bad. Everyone I think is an honest to badness villain just isn’t. They’re not horrible people once you get to know them. Then I have to write the actual villain in subsequent drafts, so it’s a Process.

Case in point: Lucius, y’know, my feathers son? My seventeen-year-old genetic hybrid protagonist whom I love? He was the secondary villain in the first draft of Angel Wings many moons ago. He was not a nice dude. He was human-shaped then, too, not feathers son shaped, and, like, stereotypical sadist mercenary type. But, oops, just kidding, turns out he’s the good guy, and he’s not a grown up he’s a teenager, and he’s not human shaped he has wings too (well, not entirely human shaped–human plus wings, hence the no-longer-applicable title).

Of the literal dozens of stories I’ve written at this point, I think the only time I got the baddie right on the first time was Soren, from Aschar and Terrwyn’s world. So I always try to write good baddies, but it takes a couple drafts to sort out who’s actually bad and who’s just unpleasant. Nikolai? Science dad. Grigori? Begrudging non-science uncle (who, granted, still has some abusiveish tendencies probably). Hank? Invites Arterio over for lunch regularly after enabling him to save himself. Conan? Actually likes Lucius too. Fredrick? Supportive cop uncle to delinquent Alicia. Sonos? Lolol yeah right. Rampage? Just wants to give her mom a good life and smash some squad cars. Ratman? Wants to save the world. I just … I’m bad at bad guys, okay? At least in the first draft.

24. If you could meet one OC of yours, who would it be and why?

This is. Such. A hard. Question! Hmm. Two routes of thinking lead to two different answers:

a. Sonos! I love her! I want her to know it! She’s just such a fun person, and such a lovable supervillain, and coming out of Average headspace, I’d love to spend a heist with her cuz I think it’d be awesome. And then I could tell her that she is loved, and I understand her, and she’s not alone, and she’ll be okay.

b. Alternatively, if I could ensure my safety, I’d also like to spend an afternoon with Desh from Angel Wings strictly so I could pick his brain. He’s one of my Honest To Badness Baddies–my hulking human-tiger hybrid supersoldier who tries to steal the Avian Initiative which means stealing Lucius and Science Dad and Bird Sister and forcing them to do the science for Other Baddies–but I don’t really get him just yet. I’m still figuring out where he came from, and why he is Like This, and I’d like to meet him and chat about it but also he’s high-key terrifying and could crush me like an empty pop can without thinking about it, or he’d think about it only as long as it took him to realize that he’d enjoy it and because of that he’d try to crush me slowly so I could scream longer. So I’d need a safety net of some sort to meet Desh, but I think it would be Helpful at this stage in my drafting.

( … also I have Most Definitely inserted myself into mind movies featuring the Regulars–Alicia, Arterio, Lucius, and Aschar–and that’s always cute. But I feel like they’re basically me, so meeting them is Not Necessary because we are the same.)

~~

Again, thank you so much for asking! I love rambling about All My People, and I have So Many of them. If anyone has more questions, please hit me up, because any excuse is a good excuse to gush on the internet about the people who live in my head, right? Right.

[kenzieam]

Stars and Shadows - Chapter 1 (Ivar and Sera)

Rating: M - Mature

Genre: General, maybe some drama and angst, definitely some romance and smut

@fuckyeahalexhoghandersen-deacti@my-emotional-self @bloodyivar @lupy22 @fortress-fiction @heathensisterwives @kduran04 @charliexowrite @angryschnauzer @rachiieeeee @ivarinleatherpants @ivars-heathen-army @neonxwitch @theheathenqueendickubus @dangerousvikings @zpandaqueen @irishhiggins  @didiintheblog  @mercy1997 @kawennote09  @iammarylastar @sparklemichele @son-of-anubis  @beltzboys2015-blog @paranoia-love @captstefanbrandt  @ivars-valkyrie @fullpeanutkoala @ruler-of-helheim @poopercoot @magical-mischief-makers

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*If you want to be added or delete to the above list, let me know*

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This is a new Ivar and Sera AU story, set in modern times. I’m not really sure where I’m going with it yet, or what direction the characters are going to end up going, but I hope you follow with me…..

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Okay, things had just gone from ‘surprise’ to ‘knock you on your ass-surprise’. Not only had my mother just appeared out of nowhere to inform me that she was getting married, but that she had moved in with him and wanted me to as well. I’ve been living with my aunt for the last year and some; after my dad died mom was really messed up and I kept it a secret as long as I could, making my own lunches, keeping the house and yard presentable, going to school; but a surprise visit from dad’s sister had blown all that out of the water.

I’d been doing my homework, quietly, in my room so as not to disturb mom; she was in bed with a headache when Aunt Cecelia walked in. I hadn’t had a chance to clean yet, this paper was due Monday, and mom had been on a tear the night before, pulling out all of the old pictures I’d packed away and crying over them in the living room, leaving them scattered along with broken dishes (thrown in grief-stricken rage) and tissues (sopping wet with tears and snot) before stumbling back to her bed around dawn to cry and nurse her headache. Mom had always gotten headaches, and only dad rubbing her feet and back and snuggling with her had seemed to help; she’d had problems with drugs before I’d been born so she didn’t want to take painkillers willy-nilly, but I’d seen her popping a few lately and I’d been getting worried, but not sure who I could call.

Aunt Cecelia had decided to visit, being in town for some natural healing convention, and had been staggered by the mess. My door had flown open, revealing this crazed-looking woman with wide eyes and a shocked face. It took me a minute to recognize my dad’s older sister. Within days she’d gotten mom sent off to some rehab place upstate and put the house in some sort of trust and moved me in with her three hundred miles away; to be honest, I was relieved; I was only 15, I wasn’t ready to be an adult yet.

Anyway, mom had flourished in rehab, gotten her head back on straight and met a guy, and here we were.

“Mom, I….. move in with you?” I wasn’t adverse to the idea, but this was all kind of sudden. My aunt hovered nearby; I knew she was divided on what she wanted me to do. She had given up her free-spirited ways to be my mother for the last year and her wanderlust was strong again. I’d heard a friend of hers a few days ago out in Cecelia’s terrace wheeze and choke as he toked before sending the joint Cecelia’s way and bring up this yoga retreat they wanted her to join them at, in Thailand. Cecelia had been all over the world, doing the downward dog at the base of this volcano and that mountain and I wanted her to experience that again. And, I missed my mom, I wanted to be with her again; the choice was simple actually, now that I thought of it.

“Okay.”

***************************************************************************************************************************************************** The house was big; a mansion even, with columns. The guy’s name was Harald Black and today I was meeting him for the first time. Mom had already picked out her colour scheme for the wedding and I still hadn’t even met step-daddy. Stop it, I growled in my head. Mom’s happy and that’s what matters. If he turns out to be an asshole, go back to Cecelia’s. But somehow I didn’t think he would be. The pictures mom had showed a thick, muscular man with auburn hair and a beard, kind eyes crinkling with laugh lines. He and mom had met as some grieving survivor’s meeting connected to her rehab. Harald had been there because he’d lost his wife Astrid in a horrible accident and not surprisingly had been having a tough time dealing with it. Their courtship had been whirlwind and Harald’s proposal sudden, but they seemed to really share a bond, so who was I to judge?

Two absolute monsters of dogs, or small horses maybe, came running as mom pulled up the winding driveway. I recognized one as a Rottweiler, but the other was some shaggy, snarling creature that didn’t look the least bit friendly. I hesitated to get out as mom stopped the car but she didn’t pause, throwing the door open and standing up.

“Balder! Brandt! Sit.” Both dogs went instantly quiet, dropping their ass so fast I almost heard the whoosh. Both panted up at her and I swear their snarls were smiles now. She glanced over at me. “C’mon out, they’re harmless.”

My ass, I grumbled, but got out anyway. In seconds I was surrounded by panting beasts, but they were whining and licking my hands like puppies. I tried an experiment. “Sit.” Whoomp. Wow.

“Harald has them very well-trained.” Mom explained.

“Yes,” came a deep voice. “At their size, they could hurt someone very easily.”

I turned, seeing my future stepfather for the first time. He was dressed casual, but expensively and I sensed that Harald liked the finer things in life. His khakis were pressed and fitted, his plaid shirt the same, making him look like an LL Bean model. His hair was long on top and shaved on the sides, pulled back into a high ponytail and it looked like he’d trimmed his beard. His smile was genuine as he stepped towards me and extended his hand.

“Hello Sera, I’m Harald.” His voice was deep and soft, and I found myself liking him immediately.

“Hi,” I took his hand and he shook it, the grip softer than I’d expect, but still dominating. He knew he was powerful and intimidating, and didn’t need to show it off constantly; he reminded me of dad.

Letting go of my hand he stepped back and his arm went around mom’s waist in a familiar, easy movement. It’s like they were made for each other, I thought suddenly.

“I hope you’ll feel welcome here, this is your home now too.” His eyes crinkled. “Would you like to see your wing?”

Wing? The house was way bigger than I’d first thought, extending back into the yard, not visible from the road. I did indeed get my own wing, with a huge bedroom, bathroom and great room, with a balcony out of my bedroom that looked out over the trees at the side of the house. I caught sight of another house perhaps a half-mile away through the dense trees. It was huge as well, but where Harald’s house was square and palatial, this house was long and rambling, extending out in all directions in what would have been haphazard if it wasn’t so pristine.

It captured my attention, this lodge for lack of a better word and I didn’t hear Harald until he was beside me, leaning on the railing with his forearms.

“That’s the Lothbroks,” he said. “Ragnar and I are business partners and friends.”

“Big house,” was all I could manage to say.

Harald chuckled. “Well, there’s a lot of them; five sons, Ragnar and his wife Aslaug. Plus a whole menagerie of animals and pets. Aslaug is forever taking in strays. The sons are all mostly grown, but I think the youngest is your age. Sixteen?”

I nodded.

“Yeah, Ivar is your age. He has his problems, but he’s also strong and smart; he’ll go far in this world if he gets rid of the chip on his shoulder.”

“You know them well?”

Harald chuckled again. “I’m their godfather, every one of them except the oldest, Bjorn. He’s from Ragnar’s first marriage. They’re a rowdy bunch, I’ll give you a few days to settle in before I set them loose on you.”

A strange warmth hit me then and my mouth opened before I even knew what was going to come out. “Thank you, Harald. I mean, I don’t know you at all, but you’re welcoming me into your house and….. mom seems really happy again…. it’s been a long time since I’ve seen her smile like this. I think you saved her.” Oh god, word vomit.

Something flashed in Harald’s eyes and they looked a little brighter. “My pleasure, you are welcome here… and you’re wrong, Lila saved me.” He was silent for a moment before pushing off of the railing with a groan. His hand landed on my shoulder and after a half-second of surprise, from both of us, it suddenly felt completely natural.

“Supper in ten minutes, can you find your way to the dining room?” He was only half-joking.

“I’ll be good, thanks… Harald.”

He nodded and left.

I turned back with a sigh. I’d almost done it. The pause before his name hadn’t been because I’d forgotten it, but because I’d been that close to calling him dad.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************** The frickin’ house was huge. Three days later and I was still finding new places to explore. In all fairness, I’d gotten distracted by the home theatre, and the swimming pool, and spent the better part of two days just there, but still; this was a hell of a huge place for one guy. Well, that wasn’t entirely true either, he’d lived here with Astrid and one whole wing (that stayed locked) was for his brother Halfdan whenever he stopped by, but it was still big. Our house with dad had been simple and plain, dad’s cop salary only going so far every month, and Aunt Cecelia’s house was an eclectic cottage, so I wasn’t used to palatial sprawl. I also wasn’t used to household staff, but Harald employed a housekeeper named Martha and a part-time cook named Phoebe, plus he had a parade of people coming and going all day; a personal trainer, assistants from work, and Ragnar Lothbrok.  

I first bumped into Harald’s business partner on my second day; I’d emerged from the home theatre for a snack, turned a corner and literally ran smack into him. Large hands caught my shoulders to steady me, which was good, because Ragnar was built like a brick house and I’d been well on my way to falling on my surprised ass. I’d stumbled away, face going red, not sure if this was something I could expect trouble for or not and chanced a look up at him. His smile was immediately disarming, his blue eyes dancing with mischievousness.

“You must be Sera. I’m Ragnar.” He extended his hand and his voice washed over me like gentle rain; there was just something…. comforting about the man.

“Yes, hi. Sorry about that, I should be watching where I’m going.”

Ragnar waved his hand. “No harm. Are you settling in alright?”

“Yeah, thanks. Harald’s been really nice.”

Ragnar nodded, “We were worried about him for awhile after Astrid died, but I’ve never seen him happier since he met your mom; that’s all he’s ever wanted really, a family.”

I blushed full-on then. “I don’t know if you could call us that yet-”

Ragnar smiled, reached down and clucked me under the chin. “Trust me, he’s already slipped and called you his daughter. And warned me to keep my sons away until you’d had a chance to get your bearings.”

Jesus, could my face get any redder? And yet, standing here with Ragnar, a guy I didn’t know from a hole in the ground, wasn’t weird or anything; like Harald, we just seemed to fit, I could see him as an uncle or something.

“Ah, Ragnar. There you are, and you’ve met Sera, good! I was hoping you’d get a chance to soon.” Harald called, approaching us from his office down the hall. He stopped near us and smiled down at me. “How are you Sera, I haven’t gotten a chance to check up with you today.”

“Found your theatre,” I smiled shyly. “I love your collection of indies and foreign films.”

“Go crazy,” Harald smiled. “Live it up, school doesn’t start until next week.”

I started a new private school next week and from what I’d been told, would be in the same class as Ragnar’s youngest son, Ivar. Only Sigurd, the next youngest, was still going to school; the others, I think Harald said their names were Hvitserk, Ubbe and Bjorn, were already working for Ragnar’s company.

“Ready? Clint set the conference call for 1 pm sharp, and you know that prick means sharp.” Harald addressed Ragnar now.

A small knowing smile. “Yeah. It was nice to meet you, Sera. Hopefully Harald will accept Aslaug’s dinner invite soon and you can meet the rest of my family.”

“Soon,” Harald replied, slapping Ragnar’s shoulder in a way that looked like he considered Ragnar a brother as well as a friend. He smirked at me. “If Phoebe’s still around, ask her to make you her loaded nachos; but no jalapeños if you don’t like it hot.” He favoured me with one last smile before turning and walking away, Ragnar throwing me a wink before he followed.

Phoebe’s loaded nachos had, in fact, been the bomb and I’d had to stop myself from inhaling the whole damn plate.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************** It was Saturday morning, and Harald had just looked up from his omelette to tell mom and I that he’d accepted Aslaug’s dinner invitation for tonight at 7. At mom’s flustering that she had nothing to wear Harald produced a shiny credit card and handed it to her, telling her to go out and get something to wear, and take me along too. Mom looked absolutely giddy, there’d been no room for such luxuries before, even with mom working too and the thought of just going out to buy clothes for a dinner was a novelty she hadn’t gotten used to yet.

I’d already climbed into mom’s new SUV while her and Harald were kissing good-bye. You’d worry mom was just using Harald for his money, or Harald was using mom for companionship, if it wasn’t so damn obvious that they were totally in love. I looked away after the fourth kiss, I mean come on, we were going shopping, not trekking up Kilimanjaro, but couldn’t stop my smile. It might have been traitorous to dad’s memory, but I was truly happy that mom had found Harald; and I think dad would have understood.

Mom found her dress fairly quickly, but it took time for me. I wasn’t a dress girl, never had been and I wasn’t eager to start now. Finally though, I found the one. Long-sleeved and ruched down the sides, it was a simple jersey-fabric black dress, cut to mid thigh and managed to make me look my age without turning me into a baby hooker. I could throw a sweater or a leather jacket over it easily to change it up, and the ruching meant the damn thing didn’t climb my legs like some dresses I’d had to wear before; no, I could play soccer in this and not have a problem. I might decide to live in it.

My hair hadn’t seen a stylist in a while; Aunt Cecelia was more of a ‘no-poo’ person and so mom bundled me into this place called The Chop Shop, and the girls inside were as fun as the name; I left two hours later with a long inverted bob, a few deep violet chunks peeking through my auburn hair.

In short, I felt confident as we drove over to the Lothbroks. Although I would have been fine with walking, mom had put on these crazy heels and Harald wouldn’t hear of us trekking through the trees while dressed up. Their house was even more spectacular close up, with brick and stone across the facade, the layout almost winding, giving way to the surrounding trees instead of the other way around. Small pens and runs were scattered around the side and looked like they ran into the back as well, and I caught sight of what looked liked chickens in one pen, and dogs in another. Ragnar was waiting to welcome us, and standing beside him was a tall, graceful woman that could only be Aslaug.

Nerves hit me again though, as I stepped out of the car. This wasn’t my world, this wasn’t mom’s world. We came from a simple house, a simple life; and these people were so much more than that. Aslaug looked like she’d just come from a spa, her hair was perfect, her makeup on point….. I didn’t belong here.

Harald guided mom over to them, and I had to admit mom did look pretty good. I hope I get her hourglass curves one day, the way she fills out jeans and sways when she walks without trying. I held back until Harald looked over his shoulder and beckoned me closer, a calm, knowing smile on his face. I was ridiculously grateful for his gentle shoulder squeeze and stepped close to mom, shaking hands with Aslaug when Harald introduced me. She was even more graceful and beautiful close up and seemed genuinely pleased to meet me. I wondered briefly what their sons were like, with two such amazing parents.

Ragnar reached out and flicked one of my violet coloured streaks with a playful grin then punched Harald jovially in the shoulder. Jerking his chin he motioned us to follow him and Aslaug and I tried not to gawk as we did.

Mom had been here before, so she was fine, but I rubbernecked shamelessly. The interior was what I decided to call Rustic-Chic, like a ski lodge for millionaires. Everything was sumptuous and immaculate, but still lived-in. The kitchen looked like a restaurant’s wet dream, but dishes drying in a rack showed that it was actually used. There was a large calendar on the far wall with writing on it, appointments and dates to remember. A dog slept in a corner, oblivious to us and a small, scrappy looking one came screaming up to us, howling and barking like some kind of demon.

I eyed him interestingly, tempted to laugh at his tiny ferocity, but he seemed so serious I had to bite my lip. Ragnar tried to silence him with a loud shhhh! but the little rat ignored him, not settling until Aslaug snapped her fingers and said ‘hush!’. Sufficiently chagrined the dog began wagging his tail and scooted closer to me, curling in a circle in front of my legs. Aslaug appeared at my side.

“He’s one of my fosters. He’s all talk so far, a typical Chihuahua, fairly timid.” She paused, watching him wind around my legs. “He likes you, he rarely takes to people.” The dog was whining quietly now, staring up at me and I bent down, picking him up. Aslaug’s in-drawn breath gave me pause, but she relaxed immediately.

“He never lets anyone pick him up,” she smiled at us, glancing over at Ragnar when the dog, rather than biting me, snuggled closer. “I think he’s chosen you.”

My eyes widened. In all honesty I’d love a dog, but I couldn’t just bring one back to Harald’s house. I moved to put him back down, but he whined and scrambled closer. Ragnar laughed and clapped Harald’s shoulder.

“You’ve got a new dog, Harald.”

I looked to Harald, expecting anger but he just smiled at me, watching the dog curl into my neck. I was petting him without realizing, his reddish coat wiry under my fingers, and it hit me suddenly that I wanted this little guy too. We’d chosen each other.

“Cute little shit.” He remarked, then looked to Aslaug. “I guess he’s Sera’s now. What does that rescue centre charge for adoptions?”

Aslaug waved him off. “My welcome gift,” she smiled dazzlingly at me. “His name is Pedro but Ragnar’s been calling him Taco, and the boys all have different names for him.”

“I like Taco,” I replied, head still spinning.

Loud noises came from the stairs and we all turned as a group of men appeared in the stairwell, streaming into the kitchen.

The first one into the room, a slightly rangier twin to Ragnar spotted us first and grinned, elbowing the blond that followed him.

“Someone’s tamed the Tank.” He grinned and reached towards us. Taco started to growl and he pulled back laughing.

Ragnar rolled his eyes. “He hates that name.” He turned to us and gestured to Tank’s nemesis. “This is our second-oldest son, Ubbe.” Ubbe smiled and winked at me, looking exactly like his dad. Ragnar kept going, pointed to the blond Ubbe had elbowed. “And Hvitserk-”

The one called Hvitserk pushed past Ubbe and stepped right towards me, I’d call his gaze predatory if he wasn’t grinning the way he was. Still a little surprised I extended my hand but Taco growled when he reached for it.

“Hush,” I murmured, surprised when Taco listened and fell silent, then couldn’t stop a giggle when Hvitserk stuck his tongue out at him and grabbed my hand, shaking it exaggeratingly.

Ragnar shook his head fondly, looking torn between thumping Hvitserk upside the head and one-arm hugging him. He continued, pointing to another blond, his hair lighter still. “Sigurd.” The one called Sigurd nodded, but didn’t approach. There was a quietness about him, the opposite so far of his rowdy brothers.

One last thump sounded from the stairwell and my gaze was drawn there again. This had to be Ivar, the youngest; Bjorn had just called Ragnar’s cell to say he was running a few minutes late.

I managed to disguise my sharp inhale as the last brother stepped into the room. Harald had told me about his legs already, and warned me not to pity Ivar for them, nothing irritated him more; but that wasn’t what caught my breath. The first thing I saw was his blazing blue eyes, which zeroed in on me like a missile, making me feel suddenly like I was standing there in that proverbial nightmare where you’re not wearing pants. His jaw was square, his lips full and pulled into the beginnings of a scowl. He had the darkest hair of them all, thick and combed back, shorn on the sides like Ubbe, Ragnar and Harald.

“And this is Ivar, our youngest.” Ragnar continued, and if he noticed my gasp he graciously ignored it.

“And crabbiest.” Hvitserk grinned, elbowing Ivar, who scowled in return.

Ivar jerked his chin at me. “The little asshole likes you.”

Aslaug gasped. “Ivar!” she scolded, but Ragnar laughed. He swiveled to face me and grinned. “Taco gets called a lot of things around here.”

I couldn’t stop a return grin; there was something about the sons that reminded me strongly of Ragnar and I could see myself becoming friends with Ubbe and Hvitserk quite easily. There was a standoffishness about Sigurd that I sensed however, and I wasn’t sure yet about Ivar. My next words were out of my mouth before I could stop and think about them.

“Takes one to know one, Ivar?”

[wearetakingthehobbitstogallifrey]

Gotham 4x15 (spoilers below)

-And we open with Martin, the adorably creepy lil child who will probably turn into a genius supervillain someday, considering with what a sweet smile he follows the instructions that will lead to the demise of his ugly captors.  I hope he lives long enough for that, because if there is one thing I don’t want to see on Gotham again it is the murder of a child *cries quietly thinking of Alex*  

And OMG it is Ed/the Riddler who just rescued him, “sent by Uncle Penguin” lol ALSO Ed is gonna take Martin out of ice cream that’s sweet.  I mean the kid probably needs therapy and a psych check but yes, he definitely should get some ice cream, Sofia tried to murder him once already

-Sidenote:  I love the Gotham skyline with the distant beautiful skyscrapers but if you look closer, at the darker buildings, shorter, uglier, with smoke and smog, you’ll see all manner of poor and broken things

-OMG so Samson just killed a man in front of his family and I am sOOO ready for Lee to somehow get back her power and absolutely destroy him (she looks so good in black...)

-WAIT I THOUGHT JIM AND HARVEY MADE UP IN THE LAST EPISODE WHY IS HARVEY ALL LIKE YEAH AFTER WE TAKE DOWN SOFIA I TAKE DOWN YOU??  (come on Gotham, why do you have to be so realistic as to make the healing process long and painful?  or wait, he just said, I will personally make sure you pay, so maybe he’ll just have Jim pay for all his alcohol therapy from now on?  please?  I need my cop brotp!)

-LOL SELINA BREAKING INTO WAYNE MANOR AND RUMMAGING THROUGH ALL HIS CANNED GOODS

Selina:  DUDE WHY DON’T YOU HAVE ANY FOOD

Bruce: ummm cause I was a jerk and kicked Alfred out for a few months and I lived on like takeout and club food and Alfred hasn’t had time to hit up a grocery store?

aww Selina wants to return the stuff she stole from the family whose patriarch Ivy turned into a miniature garden AND she doesn’t want to bother Barbara with it, because, yeah, like Barbara would care?  SO SHE GOES TO BRUCE INSTEAD!  AND HE DOESN’T LET HER DOWN OR CHASTISE HER OR ANYTHING HE JUST SEES SHE IS TRYING TO MAKE WHAT AMENDS SHE CAN AND HE IS LIKE GIVE ME LIKE FIVE SECONDS I’LL GET YOU SOME CASH AND HE GOES OFF AND SELINA JUST—SHE JUST SMILES!  BECAUSE BRUCE HAS HER BACK AND SHE HAS HIS!  THESE TWO! WILL BE THE DEATH OF ME!

-BAHAHAHAHA Oswald guessing the answer to the rhyme and then guessing the meaning of the answer a split second after, too late

mmhmm sweet old grandma in the candy store used to skin people and stuff like par for the course in Gotham good grief

-YAAAASSSSS VICTOR ZSASZ THE SASSY ASSASSIN IS BACK AND MAKING HILARIOUS HAND MOTIONS WHILE LOOKING QUITE UNIMPRESSED WITH SOFIA’S RAGE ISSUES

-so like Victor’s all cool with killing the Penguin off (and is gonna take a buddy along with him) but I still want to know what would happen if he ever found out Sofia was behind her dad’s death...

-GUYS CAN WE JUST GIVE A ROUND OF APPLAUSE OR SOMETHING FOR HARVEY BULLOCK, WHO HAS GOT A LOT OF ISSUES AND SOMETIMES SAYS HE IS A COWARD BUT THEN WALKS DOWN THE MIDDLE OF A HALLWAY TOWARD NOT ONE BUT TWO EXTREMELY DEADLY ASSASSINS POINTING A GUN AT THEM

“I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU TWO ARE HERE AND I DON’T CARE. WALK AWAY”  you’re a good man Harvey

-Victor: Harvey do yourself a favor and walk away, give us Penguin and live to get drunk another day, hmm?

LOL

BUT ALSO

HARVEY SAYS NAH

*sirens go off and Victor and whatshisname look mildly irritated at being interrupted*

Victor: it’s okay we’ll come back

-EXCUSE ME BRUCE AND SELINA ARE ON A DATE IN A STORE LOOKING FOR THAT STUFF SHE STOLE THIS IS AMAZING

Selina:  you’re different

Bruce:  *looks back at her, with a side smile*  HOW.  DO YOU LIKE IT.  DO YOU LIKE ME.  DID I GET HOTTER.  ARE YOU MORE IN LOVE WITH ME

I mean he didn’t say that exactly but that’s totally what he was thinking

Selina:  you’ve been the world’s greatest DOUCHEBAG but now...you’re nOt   (OK LIKE THE INFLECTION OF HER VOICE SHE IS SO FREAKING HAPPY TO KNOW THAT HE HASN’T REALLY TURNED INTO THE SPOILED BRATTY JERK SHE SAW AT THE BAR)

-OMG THESE FREAKING KIDS I LOVE THEM SO MUCH LOOK AT THEM ALMOST LITERALLY DANCING AROUND EACH OTHER FLIRTING AND BRUCE TRIES TO APOLOGIZE FOR BEING A GRADE A JERK AND SELINA IS LIKE SAVE IT *SMILES* YOU’LL PROBABLY BE A JERK AGAIN LATER AND SHE tOUCHES HIS chEEK with her HAND AND SLIDES IT ACROSS HIS SKIN ALL SEDUCTIVELY AND BRUCE IS ABSOLUTELY DONE FOR HE JUST SMILES AND SAYS I MISSED YOU TOO BUT HE IS INTERNALLY SCREAMING AND WILL NEVER STOP

Selina:  *messed up*

Bruce:  great

Selina:  YOU REMEMBER WHAT I SAID ABOUT BEING A DOUCHEBAG?!

-At this point, a brief, glorious fight ensues, in which Bruce and Selina beat up the bad guys and Selina CATCHES A GUY’S ARM WITH HER WHIP SAVING BRUCE FROM GETTING SHOT AND THEN BRUCE PUNCHES HIM OUT

Bruce: *destroys a guy and takes his stuff, also drops hundreds of dollars of cash on him* JUSTICE

-so Oswald and Ed are teaming back up which should mean for some fun times for some people and death times for other people...but Martin is safe so that’s good.  LOL and Ed gives his hat to Oswald to hold?  but Penguin does NOT have time for Ed’s explanations, come on Oswald, let Ed have his day

-ohhh dear I have a feeling that Ed/the Riddler is gonna be pulled back and forth between Lee and Oswald for the foreseeable future?  or are they going to team up to destroy Sofia?

-BAHAHAHAHAHAHA ED’S BACK UP PLAN TO LEE HELPING THEM IS TO PUT OSWALD IN ICE AND HAND HIM OVER TO SOFIA LIKE “A CHILLY TROJAN HORSE” OMG

Oswald:  HELL NO

-So Grundy...is living in tunnels under the city??  with...loads of candles?? ?

-Ed:  guess what I’M SMART AGAIN

LOL look Cory Michael Smith kills this role that’s all I have to say

-UM Ed pretty sure you’re about to get beat up by Butch Gilzean (so wait BUTCH is the one who likes atmospheric candles?!)

-some days I look at Oswald and I’m like....boi you’re short

-Lee:  *tries to work with Oswald and Ed to destroy Sofia*

Ed and Oswald: *disappear*

Lee:  *eyeroll* WHAT DRAMATIC IDIOTS I’VE GOTTA DO EVERYTHING mYSELF

-LOL I’VE MISSED HARVEY HAVE-SERIOUSLY COMPLAINING ABOUT JIM TO JIM

Harvey:  how did Nygma get in touch with penguin anyway

Jim:  I don’t know

Harvey:  nothing is ever easy with you is it.  It’s always like, find Lee and then she’ll point us to Ed and then we’ll find Penguin and he’ll tell us where to find Pen

-ALSO

RIGHT AFTER THIS

PENGUIN APPEARS (HE HAS NO MANNER OF LUCK AT ALL)

-OMG HARVEY “We’re looking for an Arkham escapee, about yea high, mommy complex” LOL

-honestly I’m kinda surprised that Oswald hasn’t had a heart attack yet the way he gets so worked up about stuff

-sooo Jim agrees to let Oswald go if he gives them information, and then he goes to shake his hand?  I mean, like they have this really bizarre not exactly a friendship thing...I guess it’s Oswald has always considered himself Jim’s friend (in whatever strange way that is) and Jim doesn’t consider Oswald a friend but he knows him well enough to use that to his advantage...and honestly they’ve helped each other out of enough scrapes

-but also Harvey is now the WE DON’T MAKE DEALS WITH THE DEVIL.  Which like I totally get and Penguin has proven himself to be a volatile, murderous element, but its weird to see Harvey so worked up about being a clean cop when he used to hobnob with crooks all the time...is it just because he had grown to respect Jim’s honor and goodness so much?  And when Jim fell off his pedestal, Harvey was destroyed by that?  And wants Jim to be better again? 

-Victor: *shows up*

Me:  you’re here to do bad things and impede the good guys but nevertheless I am so glad you are here

Victor:  do you need Penn?  is he important?  yes, that’s his yes face

Me:  *cracking up* I do indeed love you Victor

-LEE SAVES OSWALD  (in a dinky little car that all those bullets should have gone through like it was paper)

-Barbara’s having a few issues...resurrection will do that to you (I’m pretty sure she legit died earlier, has that been made clear yet? I don’t remember, but there was that thing with Ra’s...was it confirmed she was dipped in the Lazarus pit?

-how on earth is Ed gonna get out of this mess?  Oh he’s not. Oops

-Sofia:  kill Penguin!!  GET PENN!!!

Victor: yeah sooo Penn, Penguin, where are we priorities-wise? BAHAHAHAHAHA

-Penguin:  *goes off on one of his rants* you can’t freeze me yet!!!

Victor Fries:  ...don’t care

ICONIC

-I THOUGHT THE BATCAT SCENES COULDN’T GET ANY BETTER I WAS WRONG!!! So like Bruce and Selina are in Bruce’s kitchen, and Selina is just...fidgeting with the jewelry and Bruce is prepping ice for his bruises but then Selina asks him to return the jewelry for her because she feels so GUILTY and Bruce my beautiful wise understanding compassionate son tells her JUST what she needs to hear—that the guy’s death was NOT her fault!!!  HE IS SO QUIET AND KIND TO SELINA

Selina:  *hunched over the counter, darting quick looks at Bruce* (OMG SHE PROBABLY THINKS HE WILL BLAME HER TOO)

Bruce:  *looking handsome and serious in his black turtleneck* *leans over the counter and gazes at Selina*  you did NOT kill Roland Charles

Selina:  but...I was there...and what am I supposed to say—I stole your jewelry, I’m sorry?

Bruce:  sometimes that’s enough

AWWWWWWWW MY BEAUTIFUL PRECIOUS CHILDREN I’M SORRY I CAN’T I JUST LOVE THEM SO MUCH I MEAN JUST LOOK AT THEIR FACIAL EXPRESSIONS THROUHOUT THIS CAMREN AND DAVID ARE SUCH FREAKING GOOD ACTORS MY GOSH THE WAY BRUCE AND SELINA LOOK AT EACH OTHER WOW

-Sofia’s goon is torturing Ed yet the man still has not a single hair out of place like what kind of gel are you wearing again?? ?

-Ed: *RIDDLES AWAY*

Sofia:  TELL ME WHERE PENGUIN IS

Ed:  I AM TELLING YOU YOU’RE JUST TOO STUPID TO FIGURE IT OUT LOL

-Penguin rolls in all frozen in ice and Ed starts laughing OMG I GET IT OSWALD USED ED’S BACKUP PLAN AFTER ALL

-Victor Z:  *looks at Ed, then Penguin, then Sofia*  I’m not even gonna ask

-Jim and Harvey walk into the weird looking place where Penn is

Harvey:  *in his flattest voice* what fresh hell is this

Me: yeah WTF

-Penguin has the chance to go save Ed (with whom he has had ISSUES) or to go wreak his revenge on Sofia...I’m betting he goes to save Ed.  Make good choices dude

-GAH THEY SHOT JIM

-IS THIS THE FINAL SHOWDOWN WITH SOFIA?!

-YAASSS HARVEY STILL CARES ABOUT JIM AND WANTS TO PUT HIS HEALTH BEFORE EVERYTHING

AND JIM IS STILL A BRAVE SELF-SACRIFICING FOOL AND GETS SHOT AGAIN

AND SOFIA STALKING/FLOATING DOWN THE KITCHEN HALLWAY LIKE A DARK ANGEL OF DEATH

-LOL Victor and Headhunter fail in their mission AGAIN

Victor:  can’t catch a break today.  let’s go get a milkshake

BAHAHAHAHA

-AHH JEEZ SOFIA KEEPS SHOOTING JIM STAHP

-Sofia:  beg me for mercy

Jim:  GO TO HELL

YAASSS SOMETIMES JIM IS AN IDIOT BUT HE IS STILL FREAKING AWESOME

WAAAAIIITT OMG OMG OMG LEE JUST KILLED SOFIA SHE DID THAT

LEE YOU ROCK!!!!!

-Ed is so DONE with stupidity

-aaaannnnd I called it.  Oswald ditches his revenge schemes to go save Ed

Oswald:  trust is hard to find, but I trust you Ed

Ed: a horrible decision really

But for real though these two psychos are friends again and there are going to be hijinx upcoming you can be sure of that

Ed:  I have a STRONG desire never to see this pier again

Oswald: SAME

-aww Harvey is sitting by Jim’s bedside...THE BROTP LIVES

-WIAT WHAT SOFIA IS IN A COMA SHE ISN’T DEAD?!?!!?!  SHE HAD A BULLET IN THE BRAINPAN SQUISH!  HOW

-I freaking love Harvey, telling Jim to get over himself and take the hard path of not confessing but keeping his job, living with his guilt, and working hard to save Gotham.  

Harvey:  it’s what this city needs

Me:  that’s what Gotham needs right now, not a fallen hero, but a white knight...Bruce will cover the dark vigilante who works outside the parameters of the law for you

-Lee: *gets all vicious on a crook who freaking deserves it*

Me: good on you...but also...yikes

-um light is spilling out of Barbara, I’m gonna take a guess and say that isn’t good?