#i'm like. one of only three he/hims LMAOOOO

[son-of-avraham]

Were you out as trans to the Rabbi who managed your conversion? I'm Jewish and trans too (from birth tho), and I'm interested to know how it worked for you

I'm still in the process, but I have so far not told anyone about my being trans. I don't know... I just don't feel as though I need to qualify my manhood, if that makes sense. I've been finding in many of the largely cishet jewish spaces that I'm in that I feel more accepted even when I'm stealth than when I'm in non-jewish cishet spaces, so I really don't find it that big of a deal to make it Known. Obviously, it may be different when it comes to my rabbi, and it'll likely come up because I want to look into maybe an alternative to a brit (not out of requirement, out of my own want)... If you couldn't tell, I'm still trying to figure out what I want haha!

I guess the long and short of it is... It just works for me? It's rather boring the way it's been for me, and for that, I really am grateful. I know it's not the same for everyone, and I want to make it clear that this can absolutely coexist with having a really boring, uneventful experience with this.

[gasstationlady]

the start of something beautiful | a lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x private!reader (fc: tyla)

lando is spotted with an unknown woman, and everyone thinks she’s another fling. however, later revealed as naomi campbell’s daughter, lando's fans slowly start to love her despite her tendency to be private.

notes: btw, i’m so sorry i’ve been mia for a while! honestly, i have a ton of drafts i’ve written over the time i didn’t post, but i lowkey hate all of them lmao. anyways, hope you enjoy this fluff :)

disclaimer: swearing. photos not mine. OLD PIC OF JAZ AND ROSS (yes it’s a warning bc i’m still mourning that relationship, and ik i’m not the only one). there are a few mistakes in the tweets that i was too lazy to fix lol. also, i hope the flow doesn’t feel too rushed!

masterlist

yourusername

liked by landonorris, yourbestie and 138 others

yourusername 🌸

View all 10 comments

yourbestie 👀

↳ yourusername 🙈

yourbestie framing these pics brb 😍😍

f1gossip

2,993 likes

f1gossip We received these photos of Lando and a girl today! It looks like the same girl he has been spotted with for the past 3 months, but it’s still unclear who it is. ☕️

View all 202 comments

user three months of them being pictured AND YET NONE CLEARLY CAPTURE HER FACE. that’s some bs

↳ user no deadass bc you guys had one job 🙄

user lmaoooo i know the delulu fans are crying that she’s still here

user Are we sure it's the same girl? Lmfao even if it is, he's probably going to get tired of her soon!

user god i hope people learn and treat her better than how they treated luisinha

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 759,301 others

landonorris First time trying wakeboarding 🤙

View all 1,401 comments

user happy lando >>>

user Where’s your girlfriend

user not the red bull life vest lmfaoo

user lando rlly said here’s some shirtless pics to distract u

↳ user frrr but like it’s not working 😭

f1gossip

12,321 likes

f1gossip Naomi Campbell and daughter, Y/N Campbell, making an appearance at today’s GP! It's presumed that Y/N is dating Mclaren driver, Lando Norris. Our sources in the paddock mentions that the two visited the Mercedes, Ferrari, and Mclaren garages before the race. 👀

View all 188 comments

user i'm literally in love w her she's soo beautiful 😍

user this actually makes sense that they knew each other since naomi has been connected to f1 for a while now

user I would be unstoppable if I looked like her.

user she looks so kind 🥺🥺

user oh the things i would do to reincarnate as a wealthy person’s child

user i was there and got to meet her and i’d just like to say that i’d go to war for her

landoupdates

7,626 likes

landoupdates Max, Lando, and Y/N (seen in second photo, far right) with fans at an after party! We received these pictures a few minutes ago, and the fan included “Y/N mostly stood behind as Max and Lando were asked for photos but she was so so kind !! Although you can tell she likes to keep to herself, she told me she thought my dress was cute and even got Lando’s attention for me so I could ask for a picture 😭 Also, he kept holding her hand !!!”

View all 204 comments

user her face card is insane.

user now that we know she's naomi's daughter, i can't believe we didn't see it before LOL

user “he kept holding her hand” 😭😭😭😭😭

user I have never wanted someone to go off private so bad 😩

user honestly she’s my new fav wag

user it’s the way everyone loves her rn lmaoooo

user LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT

f1gossip

11,234 likes

f1gossip Lando, Ginge, and Ethan possibly alluding to Lando’s new relationship with Y/N in the recent Quadrant video 👀👀

See all 239 comments

user not them clowning him 😭

user i mean we all know by now that they’re together but this was the cherry on top

user melting over how he couldn’t stop smiling 🥹

user the fact that he kept this clip in 😩😩

user I AM ONCE AGAIN ASKING “LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT”

user I get it 😭 I also wouldn’t be able to hide that I’m dating Y/N

user perfect example of private but not a secret, in love with them 🥹🥹

landoupdates

5,389 likes

landoupdates A few photos of Lando and Y/N at the paddock today ☺️

See all 195 comments

user literally my fav couple

user when is he gonna make it officially on insta

↳ user My thoughts exactly!! 😭😭 I know not everything has to be posted, but I’m just excited to see him officially announce it.

user my girl y/n looked so fucking good today

user i just want him to post her solely because i want more y/n pics

↳ user LOL you’re so real for that

landonorris

liked by yourusername, angryginge13, georgerussell63 and 1,221,334 others

landonorris We so good ❤️

View all 4,201 comments

user THE HAND PLACEMENT

user not tagging her is criminal 😭😭

↳ user girl what’s the point when she’s on private

user When will it be my turn 😩

user LANDO??? OMFG

user TURN IT UP IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE 😁😁😁🔊🔊

user omggg i can’t, they’re goals

user Y/N IS SO CUTE

user i luv my parents

[thewertsearch]

GT: I should preface this request with an overture of appreciation. GT: For how much your cool and brotherly friendship means to me. GT: It has just been… GT: Absolutely *bully* having a standup gent like you in my corner. GT: Just a grade a dude whos a cut above the others in class and camaraderie. GT: Phew… *gropes for fresh kerchief*.

Wow, Jake is fucking terrified of this guy - or at the very least, he seems incredibly intimidated for a guy who's ostensibly just chatting with a friend.

Unfortunately, this is exactly what I'd expect from a Bro who's not any different from his adult self. Jake's acting exactly like Dave did, back when he was forced to share an apartment with the guy.

TT: Take it easy, bromide. TT: Just about the only way I could salvage endearment from this perilous slope of horseshit would be to discover, really fucking soon mind you, it was a preamble to some floundering invitation for me to rush to your vicinity as nakedly as possible.

In other words, you wish he was hitting on you.

I really don't think he's kidding, especially since both Roxy and Jane seem to want a piece of English, too. Jake's sitting at the epicenter of at least three crushes, which is not a pleasant place to be sitting when you're fifteen.

TT: But since we've already shot that wad's eventuality on so many dry runs of flustered ambivalence that were as hilarious as they were one sided, TT: That leaves only one hope for this message to avoid spiraling toward qualification as a critical fucking defect in the hull of the Mach 10 rocket that is my precious spare time.

And here's the guy's actual personality. It's a fairly even mixture of Rose and Dave, a combination which synergizes much better than you'd expect.

He's still prone to Dave-style rambles - but unlike Dave, his streams of consciousness are every bit as eloquent as Rose's text, which some extra swear words tossed in for flavor.

It's very good, and immediately does a lot to humanize him, especially when all we've seen so far is "roof. now." and "State your business."

TT: And that hope lies in the extent to which you were practicing artful insincerity. TT: Now's your opportunity to pretend that's what you were gunning for. I suggest you seize it. GT: I… GT: Oh. Yes! But of course. GT: The ironies! GT: Good grief how i was bandying them just now. You know me dude. GT: *Blows smoke off red hot irony pistol.* GT: *NONSUGGESTIVELY!!!!!*

lmaoooo

Alright, I can't actually tell if that was a Freudian slip or not - but I kind of hope it was. If these two became a couple, the vibes would be incomprehensible.

TT: I'm guessing you're probably jonesing for uranium about now. No? GT: Ok can you please just sendificate me some more already?? Im in kind of a hurry! [...] TT: You know. I've offered to construct the rabbit for you many times before. I would craft a much deadlier model. […] GT: Damn it man ive told you this is just something i have to do myself. […] TT: Yeah, I know this is your policy. You've done a good job and you should be proud. TT: But it's my responsibility as your friend to offer one last time. TT: Just as it's my responsibility not to just fork over a bunch of uranium just because you ask me in a moment of weakness. […] GT: Why not??? TT: It's too easy.

Throughout this whole conversation, I've been trying to get a grasp on Bro's general vibe - and I think I'm starting to understand it.

When you're talking to Kid Bro, everything is a game - and he'll make damn well sure that you follow the rules.

Jake previously committed to making the bunny alone, and Bro refuses to rescind that rule, even if Jake's no longer following it himself. He strikes me as a guy who frames every interaction he has as transactional, confrontational, or instructional. He's not capable of just shooting the shit - there has to be an angle.

Mind you, I don't think there's any genuine malice in it. I think this is just how he's wired - and I really do think he's trying to help Jake develop as a person, in his own way.

The problem is, we've been down this road before...

...and nothing good lies down this road.

[multifandomslxt]

Nct 127 as fratboys Pt.1

I enjoyed this wayyyyyy too much lmaoo

Taeil

first off

baby he don't wanna be here lmaoooo

He don't even know how he got in a frat in the first place

he majors in one of three things

comp sci

finance

or accounting (Yes finance and accounting are different)

Taeil wouldn't be your typical frat boy

he's definitely turning his assignments in on time

and he is never

and I mean NEVER up for a party

but allows it to happen anyway

however, if its finals season...

He is the one who shuts the party down when the clock touches 12

"Everyone get the fuck out! You have exams in a few hours"

The father of the frat honestly

He's pretty laid back and doesn't bother anyone

Some would think that he doesn't get laid either but c'mon now

he fucks around ALOT!

Don't let him fool you

Has had a threesome multiple times

but don't tell anyone I told you that

He hates the parties but always gets 4-5 BJs at each

and guess what y'all

if you fuck him

NO ONE WILL KNOW!

he won't brag about it and he won't tell a soulllll

If his friends are eyeing someone he's been with b4

and they ask him about her

trust and believe this man won't say a word

he'll shrug and be like "Ion know"

ughhh and he pulls easily too

Usually he beats around the bush

but always makes it clear he doesn't want anything serious

all in all he's a sneaky and quiet fratboy

lol

Johnny

Yeah...

everybody knows about this bitch right here

He is a business major.

Period

do not question the facts

doesn't give too much fucks about his grades though

as long as he gets a degree after this shit

he's good.

He would be known as the irresistible heartbreaker

cuz he WILL pull you in

and then drop you after he fucks.

I'm just being honest here y'all lmaoo

He is THE life of the party

like if a party is happening and he ain't there...

it's gonna be lame asf

He and Jaehyun are notorious for making their coma-inducing

jungle juice

Surprisingly he has a good fashion sense for a frat boy

oh and he definitely comes from a rich family

so yk he's driving his car around blasting

Drake and Tyga

Smokes hella w33d btw

like I'm not even joking

his circle clean as hell though

vibes are always through the roof

He fucks every other day

and everybody knows he does

why?

because he posts about it on social media

yup.

i said it.

He would definitely tag your ass too

so if yk you don't like the inanet knowing

that your- in his words- "pum pum wetter than the ocean"

then leave this man alone

lmaoooo

overall a menace and a jerk- typical fratboy (I'm sorry I wanted him to be sweet too lol)

Taeyong

He's a nerd.

I'm sorry but Taeyong does not belong in a frat 😭 jk k

but

He 100% has his legos displayed in his room

like don't even say it's not true

His idea of a fun time is spending hours building a lego set

He's definitely a communications major

maintains a relatively good gpa

so he's ight.

And a ladies man

Oh yupp

Everyone who has his twitter sees his posts about pussy eating.

And lemme tell you something

Bitches have lined up in front of the frat to get eaten out by this man

ya hear me???

And he brags about it on the dl

would be notorious for attending 2-3 parties for the semester tho

why?

his legos.

he NEVER has a shirt on

I swearrrrrr

he also smokes w33d with Johnny sometimes

but doesn't do it often bcz it tends to fuck him up a bit too much

can't roll one to save his life lmao

in terms of fucking he only does it when he's stressed

Did a threesome with Taeil once

He's the type to stare you down from some creepy ass dark corner at a party if he finds you hot.

He's definitely not the type to just tell anyone that he ate you out or fucked you randomly

but if one of his friends were to ask him

he's telling it all and giving you a rating outta 10.

for your sake

you betta hope he don't give you anything below 6.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Hi there! I would love to request a matchup :) Preferably for the fandoms Marvel, X-Men & The Witcher pretty please. I am heterosexual, 21 years old and use she/her; so I would like to be matched with males. As for looks: I am 5ft tall, got olive tanned skin, dark brown eyes and matching long wavy hair and I'm athletically yet small built. I would say that a feature of mine that distinguishes me are my freckles that only go over my nose and cheeks and for some reason are more dominant on one side lmaoooo. other than that i have a few tiny beauty marks all over my body; but no other freckles. I'm definitely a more outgoing person and I love speaking what's on my mind. but even then I know when to shut up when the situation calls for it. I believe that I give off a warm and welcoming energy but I do not open up too easily and give off "good listener and advice giver" vibes. I am extremely cuddly and affectionate in private; but I do not show that to the outside world. I grew up being a romantic cause no one would have a crush on me hehe Hobbies of mine include fitness, pilates, pro-wrestling, reading, cooking and playing with my dog (if one can count that as a hobby haha). My music taste varies all over the place; depending on my mood I can listen to Country, Hip-Hop, Classic Rock, Jazz or whatever... Thank You so much in advance!! <33

Hello!

I would love to write you a matchup for your chosen three fandoms!

<3333333

I had a lot of fun with this, I believe this is my first Witcher one!

<3333

I hope you like it!

Enjoy!

(I am sorry if I rambled!)

<3333333

Romantic Matchups; Marvel, X-Men, and The Witcher

~~~

Romantic;

~~~

Marvel;

Thor Odinson -

When Tony Stark decided he wanted to get into pilates, he didn't want to do it alone - so naturally, he hired you as the Avengers' official pilates instructor.

You were expecting to work with only maybe a few others, but you weren't prepared for a literal god to walk into your class.

The moment Thor saw you, he was intrigued.

So small, yet so strong?

I am imagining this is during 'the first Thor movie Thor,' when he was very confused/curious about Midgard and acted mostly like a Golden Retriever.

Anyway!

His curiosity was piqued immediately.

He towered over you, looking both amused and fascinated, asking, "Are you certain you can handle training a god?" with that playful grin of his.

You were intimidated, "I should be asking if you can handle training with me."

That was it - Thor liked you instantly.

Your confidence?

Incredible.

Your strength?

Admirable.

And your warm, inviting energy?

Utterly captivating.

Thor was the worst pilates student at first.

He'd fall out of poses, grumble about 'this Midgardian torture,' and once even broke a mat in half just by sitting on it weird.

You lightly laughed at his antics instead of coddling him, which he loved.

Most people either feared or worshiped him, but you?

You treated him like any other student.

"You're a god and yet you can't even touch your toes? Tragic."

He developed an immense respect for you - not just because of your strength and skill, but because you had a fire in you.

He admired how you spoke your mind, yet knew how to listen.

Outside of training, he'd follow you around like a Golden Retriever.

He'd sit next to you while you played with you dog, asking endless questions about Midgardian animals, food, and why exactly you enjoyed pilates so much.

You cooked together often.

Thor was fascinated by your skills in the kitchen and insisted on learning more from you.

You taught him the art of seasoning because, "By Odin's beard, why does Midgardian food have such delightful flavors!?"

Thor was obsessed with your pro wrestling the moment you introduced him to it.

He'd dramatically commentate, challenge other Avengers to "duels", and even try wrestling you once - only to be shocked when you actually put up a very good fight.

Thor adored your dog.

He'd carry them in his arms.

He loved listening to you talk about books - even if they weren't about battles or legends.

You once read to him as he lay his head on your lap, and he swore your voice was more soothing than the songs of Asgardian bards.

You introduced him to your varying music tastes, and he loved jazz and classic rock the most.

Sometimes, he'd just sit with you, listening in silence - which was rare for him.

This boi loves to talk.

Thor didn’t realize he was in love with you at first.

He just knew that whenever you were near, he felt lighter.

Happier.

Warmer.

He loved how affectionate you were in private.

The way you'd casually rest your head on his shoulder?

The way you'd snuggle into his side during a late-night movie?

It drove him crazy.

But he didn’t push for more - he just enjoyed basking in your touch.

Then one day, he saw you laughing with Steve, and something inside him snapped.

He didn’t want you to look at anyone else like that.

That was the jealousy talking...

He started hovering more.

(You noticed, you thought it was adorable.)

It happened after a particularly intense pilates session.

You were both lying on the floor, exhausted, when Thor suddenly blurted, “I think I love you.”

You froze.

Then, with a teasing smirk, you said, “Think?”

That made him chuckle.

“No. I know. I love you, little one.”

You weren’t one to swoon easily, but he said it so sincerely - so full of pure adoration - that you melted.

You leaned in, brushing your fingers against his cheek, and whispered, “Good. Because I love you too.”

He pulled you into his arms, kissing you so deeply, so thoroughly, that you swore you felt thunder rumble in his chest.

Pet names?

Oh, he has so many for you.

Little One. My Star. My Love. My Queen.

He constantly picks you up - whether it's spinning you around in joy, carrying you bridal-style just because, or tossing you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing.

Thor adores kissing your forehead - it’s his way of grounding himself, of reminding you how precious you are to him.

He still insists on helping you in the kitchen, though he mostly just stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you work.

Thor is an infuriating blanket thief.

But waking up wrapped in his arms, his lips against your temple, makes it worth it.

Dancing in the Kitchen.

He'll randomly pull you into his arms, swaying to whatever music is playing - whether it's jazz, classic rock, or even silence.

If you fall asleep on the couch, he won’t wake you up.

He’ll just scoop you up effortlessly, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he carries you to bed.

No matter how much you talk, he listens intently.

He loves the fire in your eyes when you’re passionate about something.

You once showed him how to use an air fryer.

No one dares mess with you when Thor Odinson is at your side.

He worships you - your strength, your fire, your heart.

He’ll trace your freckles and kiss each one, telling you how breathtaking you are.

If you're upset, he doesn't push you to talk - he just pulls you into his chest, wrapping you in the safety of his arms.

You remind him that he’s more than a warrior.

That he deserves love, warmth, and a life beyond battle.

You introduce him to new foods, music, and experiences, always keeping things exciting.

Remind him that he is loved.

Because sometimes, even gods need reassurance.

Thor Odinson adores you.

To him, you are his home, his storm, his star.

~~~

X-Men;

Scott Summers -

You first met Scott Summers in the mansion gym, where you’d just started working as a yoga and pilates instructor.

It wasn’t hard for Scott to notice you – the woman with the infectious energy who somehow made working out feel like fun.

He wasn’t much for the gym or yoga, but he respected your passion for it and had heard great things about your classes.

One day, while you were giving a private pilates lesson, Scott wandered in, deciding he’d try something different.

At first, Scott was a bit reserved.

He didn’t really know how to let loose or have fun, especially around people he didn’t know very well.

But there was something about you, your warm, welcoming energy that made him open up bit by bit.

As your lessons became a regular part of his routine, the two of you started to share more laughs.

You were the only person who didn’t treat him like a leader of the X-Men, but instead as just a guy trying to find balance in his life.

You spent a lot of time talking after classes.

He’d always linger a bit longer, asking about your hobbies, or discussing things like his favorite bands or how things were at the mansion.

You noticed that he was a lot more fun than his serious demeanor suggested.

He’d tease you sometimes, always being careful not to cross boundaries, but it made your heart flutter every time he cracked a joke.

It felt easy with him.

It wasn’t long before you both realized that what you were building was something more than just a friendship.

Scott found himself thinking about you more often than he ever expected to.

He admired your confidence, the way you were unapologetically yourself, how you had this effortless beauty about you, and the way you cared for others so deeply.

But there was more to you that he admired - the fact that you were someone who wasn’t afraid to be real.

You didn’t fawn over him like many others at the mansion, but you didn’t shy away either.

You saw him as Scott, not Cyclops, and that meant the world to him.

For you, the shift was slow, but undeniable.

Your heart skipped when he smiled at you, or when he asked you to sit with him for a quiet lunch.

The way he’d casually place his hand on your back as he passed by or how he would linger during your classes just to spend a little extra time with you made your stomach do flips.

You saw how protective he could be, especially with the other X-Men, but he was equally kind-hearted and patient with you.

The confession came during a particularly quiet evening at the mansion.

After a long day of training and missions, you were both in the gym.

You’d been chatting about your plans for the weekend, laughing about some old movie you had seen, when the conversation turned into something more meaningful.

Scott paused for a moment, his red visor gaze locking onto you.

"I’ve been thinking… And I feel like I need to say something." He looked nervous, as though words weren’t coming easily for him.

You raised an eyebrow, a soft smile playing on your lips.

"You know you can always tell me anything, right?"

"I-" He hesitated, his jaw tightening for a second, and then he took a deep breath. "I think I’m starting to fall for you."

His voice was steady, but there was vulnerability beneath it that made your heart race.

A mix of surprise and warmth flooded you.

You stepped closer to him, your smile widening.

"You’re not the only one, Scott," You whispered, before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, feeling the faint pulse of his heartbeat.

Once the feelings were out in the open, everything changed.

He wasn’t one for grand gestures, but the little things he did spoke volumes.

Whether it was a soft kiss on your forehead after a long day or him quietly waiting for you after your yoga class, he showed his love in ways that were personal and meaningful.

You’d find yourself sharing quiet moments together, perhaps over a cup of coffee in the mansion’s kitchen, or simply lying together, letting your fingers intertwine.

He loved listening to you talk about your hobbies and passions, and he’d always ask thoughtful questions to learn more.

You also found that you enjoyed supporting his work, whether it was helping him decompress after a difficult mission or being there when he needed someone to talk to.

You would both take time to unwind together, either with music playing softly in the background or just the two of you talking about your day.

You’d bond over different songs you both enjoy.

Sometimes you’d even dance in the living room, laughing and holding each other close.

He’s not the first one to initiate cuddles, but once you start, he’s the warmest and most affectionate person in the world.

You’ll wake up early, curl up together, and enjoy the comfort of each other’s company before starting the day.

Sometimes he’s a little stiff, but you always know how to make him laugh with a playful nudge, easing him into relaxation.

Simple, thoughtful gifts.

Scott is the type to remember the little things, like your favorite drink or the way you prefer your coffee in the morning.

He’ll pick up small but meaningful gifts, like a fresh batch of your favorite tea, or a new book that he thought you’d love.

It’s his way of saying, "I’m thinking of you."

You love cooking, and Scott loves watching you in your element.

Sometimes you’ll make dinner together, with Scott taking the easy tasks like chopping veggies or stirring while you handle the more complicated steps.

You’ll end up laughing as you get flour everywhere or try to perfect the perfect meal.

You would take care of him when he needs it, always being his safe place.

If he ever gets too caught up in his responsibilities, you’d remind him to take a break.

You’d give him the quiet space he needs to recharge after long days of missions, and you’d always be there to listen to his concerns, providing him with the emotional support he needs to feel grounded.

You’d also be the one to help him lighten up - helping him see that it’s okay to relax and let go once in a while, and that not everything needs to be so serious.

Scott would do anything to protect you.

When you need space, he’ll respect it, but when you need him, he’ll always be there.

He’ll make sure to put your happiness first, even if it means adjusting his usual way of doing things.

He’d go out of his way to make sure you feel appreciated, whether it’s bringing you your favorite snack after a long day or planning a quiet night in just to let you relax.

He would also be your rock during tough times.

If you’re ever feeling down or stressed, Scott will be the one to pull you into his arms, offering you quiet comfort and reassurance.

Together, you and Scott would form a strong, loving partnership - one built on trust, understanding, and the occasional stolen kiss.

~~~

The Witcher;

Geralt -

It was an ordinary, quiet afternoon at your bookstore, surrounded by the scent of old leather-bound books and the soft shuffle of pages turning.

You were shelving a few new arrivals when the bell above the door jingled.

Looking up, you saw two figures step into the warm light of the store: a tall, grizzled man with striking white hair and piercing amber eyes, accompanied by a lively, much more colorful companion who seemed to carry an air of excitement wherever he went.

It was Jaskier who spoke first, with a grin that could charm the birds from the trees.

"You wouldn't believe it, my dear! Geralt here needs a place to rest his tired bones."

You gave them both a smile, offering a seat, and the rest was history.

Geralt, ever the stoic figure, settled into an armchair, his eyes scanning the shelves.

The familiarity of a quiet space seemed to soothe him, though his usual guarded demeanor remained.

Jaskier, on the other hand, engaged in a full-on conversation about the finest wines and the tragic beauty of romance.

You were immediately drawn to Geralt’s quiet presence, intrigued by the mystery surrounding him, while Jaskier's infectious energy made you feel comfortable enough to engage.

Your shared love for stories, in particular, began to form the foundation of your friendship with Geralt.

Even if he didn’t speak much, you could tell he appreciated the world of books as much as you did.

Geralt's visits to the bookstore became more frequent as time went on.

He wasn’t much for words, but the way he would linger over the shelves, running his fingers over the spines of books, showed a softer side to the Witcher that not many got to see.

You’d catch him occasionally reading while waiting for Jaskier to finish writing a song or recovering from whatever dangerous creature they'd faced on their travels.

You began to bond over more than just books.

Geralt would listen patiently as you shared details of your life, your hobbies, and your personal dreams.

He’d raise an eyebrow when you told him about your love for pro-wrestling, but then he’d smirk and say something about how he could probably win a match if given the chance.

You’d tease him back, imagining him in the ring with someone as loud and theatrical as Jaskier.

Over time, the quiet moments of reading together turned into long conversations, with Geralt offering the rarest of smiles when you shared a joke.

You’d often bring your dog to the bookstore, and Geralt’s presence would change, becoming less tense as the dog nuzzled his leg, a silent understanding between the two of them.

There were little things - like the way he would offer you a ride on Roach when you were walking home late at night.

For all his gruffness, Geralt was kind in ways that didn’t need words.

The transition from friends to something more was gradual.

At first, it was a subtle shift.

You noticed the way Geralt’s hand would hover near yours when you were walking through the woods or how his eyes softened when he looked at you during the quiet moments.

Sometimes, when Jaskier would pull out his lute to play, Geralt would catch your eye, and for a brief moment, the two of you would share a silent connection, your feelings for each other almost palpable.

Geralt would never say anything directly, and you, too, hesitated, unsure of how to approach the growing affection that bubbled up between you.

The quiet moments in the bookstore, with only the sound of pages turning, became filled with a subtle but undeniable tension.

One evening, as you shared a drink after a particularly long day, Geralt leaned back in his chair and looked at you with an intensity that made your heart flutter.

“You’re different,” He said, his voice low and steady. “The others... They don’t understand me like you do.”

You didn’t know how to respond at first, your heart racing as you realized that maybe - just maybe - he felt the same way you did.

But, true to form, Geralt didn’t press for answers.

Instead, he simply gave you a small, tender smile and let the silence linger.

The moment came one evening as you sat together in the small cozy corner of the bookstore, your dog curled up at your feet.

The air was thick with unsaid words, and you felt as though you might burst if you didn’t speak.

“Geralt,” You said softly, your voice shaking slightly. “I don’t want to just be the person who’s here when you need a rest or a book to read.”

Geralt looked up from his hands, his amber eyes meeting yours with a surprising intensity. “What do you want, then?”

Your heart pounded as you crossed the small distance between you, sitting next to him on the floor. “I want to be more,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to be the one who stays, the one you trust, the one who-”

Before you could finish, Geralt cupped your face in his calloused hands, his touch tender yet sure. “I know,” He said simply, before leaning in and kissing you softly.

In that kiss, everything clicked into place.

It wasn’t about words; it was about the bond you’d built, the quiet understanding you’d shared, the moments that spoke louder than anything either of you could say.

From that moment on, your relationship with Geralt blossomed in the quiet, unassuming way that both of you seemed to prefer.

You found comfort in each other’s presence, in the unspoken affection you shared.

Geralt would still be gruff at times, but you could see in his eyes how much he cherished you.

You spent your days reading together in the library, discussing your favorite books or teasing him about his inability to finish a book without getting distracted.

At night, Geralt would stay by your side as you cooked dinner, offering his silent support as you worked through the simple joys of domestic life.

He’d occasionally join in to help chop vegetables or stir the pot, though his cooking skills were, admittedly, less than impressive.

But you loved it when he tried, his gruffness fading into the warmth of your shared space.

Geralt wasn’t one for grand gestures, but he showed his love in the little things.

He’d warm a blanket for you if you were cold, and if you ever had a bad day, he’d find some way to soothe you.

Whether it was taking you for a quiet walk through the woods or simply sitting with you as you read, his presence was his greatest gift.

On special occasions, Geralt would bring you rare flowers from his travels - flowers that didn’t need words to convey their meaning.

He’d leave them on your desk with a simple, “I thought you might like these.”

For you, the world of Geralt was one of gentle affection.

You’d cook him his favorite meals and sneak little notes into his coat pocket when he wasn’t looking.

You’d always make sure to listen to him when he spoke, as if every word mattered.

You show up when he needs it most, quietly holding space for him after a rough battle, letting him rest in the safety of your presence without any expectation of him opening up.

Geralt, in turn, protects you - physically, emotionally, and mentally.

He’s your quiet guardian, offering strength when you need it and respect when you don’t.

In each other, you’ve found someone who understands the unspoken parts of your soul.

Someone who, despite all their battles, finds solace in the quiet moments shared with you.

[kastlenetwork]

Hi! So I'm pretty new to the kastle fandom and wanted to know if there are any like- classic fics or interviews or memorable moments in panels and cons (with the actors) that I should know about? I know about the interviews that are on the kastle wikifandom page but only because I've read them.

helloooo! welcome to the family! it's been quite quiet lately, but frank and karen are always in our hearts lolol and every now and then there's a little resurgence, so that's nice. umm first up interviews. there's a lot of little quotes here and there that were a big deal. we didn't get many interviews of the two of them together, if i remember correctly. i think two comic cons were pretty exciting.

here are some interviews from comic con 2017 yup

this is a cute clip from last year, where deborah talked about how jon's intense but really uplifted her. and that they want to work together again.

(i'm looking at kastle's wikifandom and, really, the big interview quotes all seem to be there.)

“ … just in terms of whether this is Jon’s story to tell or my story to tell, you just want to kind of be respectful of everybody’s contributions. Jon and I have certainly felt that there is room for a romantic story in there. And there were certainly scenes where we took it farther in some takes than we did in other takes. We’ll have to sort of wait and see what the editors chose, and how far they decided to push it. But we as actors allowed for that possibility.” -deb cinemablend

deborah and jon were both supporters, but deborah was always including frank into karen's romantic potentials:

“But all of the romance I’ve gotten to play, with any of the characters in the series, whether that’s Frank or Matt, they all come from a need. From a lonely person, a person who doubts whether she is deserving of love.” -deb collider

**

“I like that Karen can say, ‘How far down this road of violence of revenge do you go before you’re ripped apart?’ and he can look at her and go, ‘I’m already ripped apart. And you are, too.‘” -deb 92.1 bobfm

**

“When professor [Jeph] Loeb [Marvel TV head] told me we were gonna do a series on The Punisher,” Bernthal continued, “first thing i asked him is would I have the pleasure and the honor to work again with one of the most honest, the most kind, and the most talented actors I’ve ever had the privilege to work with.” --jon ew

oh! karen page being announced for the punisher. very cute.

"i just want to say, you guys don't love him as much as i do" was very exciting when it happened lmaoooo. the hope for kastle was high.

*****

i'll be honest up front and say, i tend to forget a lot of stuff? so, basically, i can read a fic and then read it again months later and it's like a brand new experience. which is both a blessing and a curse. so, i basically just zoomed through my bookmarks to try and find some things?? 😩😩

(i'm scanning my bookmarks and.............a lot of them are basically just smutfdjklgsdfjglkdfjglkdfjg)

ballads for a dead man ❤❤ [three parts, unfinished] Safe up in the mountains with Frank following a bloody showdown in Hell's Kitchen, Karen wonders just how much more complicated things between them can get. She's about to find out.

these heavy words, your open heart 😘😘 (this was a kastlechristmas gift to me from @carry-the-sky 😊❤) “You told me once that I was honest. That I don’t lie to you. But the hospital—you asked me to start over, and I said I didn’t want that.” Karen sucks in a breath. Frank’s eyes are still on her, wide and bright. It’s the most vulnerable she’s ever seen him look. “I lied,” he says.

The Reporter  [kinda iconic ❤👀] Force Recon missions keep Marines isolated, entrenched for long periods in covert locations. They rarely received visitors, and in Frank’s long experience, the visitors were almost never civilians, let alone gorgeous blondes with mile long legs and sky blue eyes. Frank was trying not to stare. They all were. Well, everyone except Bill, who’s face had just split into a shit-eating grin.

The Flower Cam [oh god, the flower cam! i just remembered!! ❤] It had been a long time since there had actually been any flowers in the window. She must have trashed the white roses after his latest bullshit at the hospital with Madani and the kid. Good. Good for her. She should forget about him. But still… Frank couldn’t help but check every once in a while.

actually just, everything in their ao3. i have all this bookmarked.

(..................god, my bookmarks are really all smut. this says a lot about me.)

Castle’s Auto Shop ❤❤ yes. yep. Karen Page is in need of a car mechanic. Castle’s Auto Body Shop seems a reasonable choice. There’s just one problem: This little auto shop has become a well-known spot where less than honorable people to go get their car fixed…only to have justice find them at the next stop light. Having her brother’s truck fixed there means Karen will have to own up to a few secrets in her past.

Blood and Bone ❤❤❤! this is the fic that has seared itself into my brain. i've never once forgotten this. iconic. Frank Castle is a boxer at the top of his game. Laconic and anti-social, he has a reputation for being an incredibly-tough interview. Karen Page is a sports reporter trying to prove herself in a male-dominated field. She's done playing games--trying to be the "Cool Girl" who caters to the male fantasy--and now she's on a mission to take no shit. "For a while, the fact that an interview with Castle lasting longer than 5 minutes even existed was big news. Splashed all over the message boards—circulated among boxing and Castle fans alike. The very concept that someone actually got the man to sit down for more than a breath of time and give multiple-sentence answers to a question—it was huge. Massive. It was the only thing Castle fans could talk about. Until three months later, when Frank Castle disappeared. Then that was the news. It was the only news."

this is hard lmaoo how ludicrious. i have about seven collections from some of our events, as well. there's loads of good stuff in there:

kastlesmutweek 2018

kastlesmutweek 2019

kastlechristmas 2018

kastlechristmas 2019

kastlechristmas 2020

kastlechristmas 2021

kastlechristmas parent collection

[snowbaamgyu]

Bro your last fic (the piercing one) was SOO CUTE 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 I need more like this..

I was thinking this time a with soobin. But when he gets the piercing he’s like actually sick (with a cold or something) and he gets a nose piercing so since he has a cold he has to blow his nose and stuff but he can’t because of the piercing so he gets really frustrated and ends up crying so the members take care of him (i think if that happens Irl soobin would end Up taking it Off because of his rhinitis lmaoooo). That’s my idea hehe :>

Pretty Mistake

"Alright Soobin-ssi, since the fans love it when you have a sticker faking a piercing then if you do it for real won't do any harm, just make sure it doesn't affect your performance okay? You're dismissed" Soobin bowed and a happy smile spread on his face after hearing the head manager of the team give him the green light for him to get done a nostril piercing.

Soobin has done enough research by now, the nostril piercing is one of the fastest to heal and on a scale of pain from 1 to 10 it was only a four, which for a nose piercing was decently low as the septum one was rated on a 10.

The leader scheduled an appointment and was accompanied by a staff member that had worked with them since debut, a friend if Soobin had to answer what his bond with him was.

"Good morning Soobin-ssi, you're here to get the nostril piercing right? follow me this way please, have a sit there and wait until all instruments and the piece are disinfected" the lady bowed and so did Soobin, his friend looking at him and smiling a bit "Aren't you scared?" Soobin shook his head, "I think it'll look cute so that's why I asked for it so many times until the company said yes, after all I think moas will love it" they laughed for a moment when the lady returned.

"Okay, I'll apply an anesthetic foam so it won't hurt" she started, Soobin frowned a bit at how cold it felt but all of a sudden he couldn't feel the right side of his nose, he saw how the lady took out the needle she'll be using and how she showed it to him for him to see it was totally new.

"You're going to take a deep breath when I count to three alright? One... two... three... breathe" Soobin could just feel the needle passing through his nostril, a tickling sensation appeared and he had to try so hard to stiffle a sneeze because it totally would not end well. As soon as it started it ended, the little piece of jewelry was placed there and had a red spot surrounding the skin where it was, without realizing Soobin had a single tear rolling down his cheek, the lady quickly explaining "It's because the nose is connected to the tear ducts, like when we cry" he wiped it and stood up "So.. how do I take care of it?" he said as he took a look at it, it was cute.

"Avoid eating spicy and hot or steamy foods, don't blow your nose too hard and please don't move the piece, it'll slow the process of healing. That concludes my job here, thank you for coming by" she bowed and then left.

"Hyung I forgot about something..." his friend looked at Soobin as he spoke a bit frightened; "I'm always struggling with my rhinitis".

At first, it looked so nice that Soobin didn't mind, Yeonjun complimented him everytime they bumped into each other, Taehyun always said it made him look so cool, Beomgyu said he couldn't wait to see him wearing a ring and Kai said he looked cute.

But they don't know how much it hurts.

Each time he sneezes a sharp pain comes but it's okay, it fades away quickly; and each time he blows his nose no matter how careful he tries to be, it still hurts.

Anyway, he blinks away the tears that formed in his eyes and opens his camera, takes a selfie or two and posts it on weverse and twitter, as everyone expected moas were freaking out, making it a trend.

As days passed Soobin expected that the pain would fade and stop at some point but it wasn't and it felt as the first day he'd done it, no matter how many painkillers he took it was to no use.

And on top of it all, he developed a fever and the nostril where he had his piercing was bruised and maybe a bit swollen.

He tried, Soobin really tried to endure it, but the cherry on top of it all was when he caught a cold.

"Ah.. fuck..." Yeonjun turned to look at him once he heard Soobin swearing after sneezing for the nth time that day, the leader bundled up on the couch, a box of tissues on the coffee table, as well as a glass of water and painkillers. "What's wrong?" Soobin sniffled, "My piercing is not healing as it should and it really hurts when I sneeze or touch my nose by accident, you don't know how painful it is right now with this stupid cold" Yeonjun sighed, going to pat his hair a bit "Then why don't you go to the place where you got it and get them to check it? Maybe there's something they can do or just take it off" Soobin nodded, not really wanting to experience any more pain.

He called the lady who did his piercing, relaxing when she picked up. "Hello Soobin-ssi, is there anything I can help with?" she asked, Soobin didn't know where to start but still talked "Hey um... It's been a week but the pain isn't going away and my rhinitis is acting up, but also uhm.. I caught a cold and honestly it's painful, so I don't know what I could do if I can't even blow my nose properly without making it hurt even more and I think it's infected or something like that" she listened carefully to all of it, humming when he stopped "Soobin-ssi I think it's better if you take off your piercing, it seems like your body is rejecting it but still I'll have to take a better look, come by and I'll see what we can do".

As she and Yeonjun said, he had to take it off, disappointed that he couldn't make it last, so to cheer himself up a bit he started a weverse live.

"Hey Moa how are you doing? I came by because I missed you" almost instantly the comments started popping up, he read one "Soobin let us see your piercing.... ah guys... how do I tell you this? Uhm... I don't have it anymore, you know I struggle with rhinitis and it was making me kinda sick so for health reasons I had to take it off, I know all of you were so excited about it but unfortunately it's over, also this week I've been a bit sick with a cold, but don't worry everything is completely fine now" he said with a sad expression and tone, once again the comments changed to cute messages saying things like "It doesn't matter! Soobin's health comes first! ❤️❤️" which made Soobin really happy, he felt more relaxed when he realized moa just wanted him to be healthy, it was a bummer yes but at least he feels a lot better.

[birdiedoesdc]

hi :] would love to know what was going on in your brain when you wrote this part of watch your back, now i'm biting. also very interested in hearing what you were planning with this au in general!

----

“—just weird for me,” Steph’s saying. “Like, I don’t even know why he picked me—“

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jason says, sounding baffled. “Don’t get me wrong, Steph, you’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met, but you fight like hell. I mean, I got you in the head like three times and you never stayed down for more than a second.”

“But I’m not his kid,” Steph says, very small. It’s times like these Dick remembers that she’s just thirteen. “You’re his kid.”

Jason’s quiet for a second. Dick continues to pretend like he’s rustling through gauze. “Yeah, but if I’m not, you know. In the business anymore, then maybe he doesn’t—“

“That’s dumb,” Steph says plainly. “You’re so dumb. Ninety percent of patrol is what would Jason do.” She does a pretty good impression of Bruce’s voice too. “I’m just a placeholder until you decide to come back—“

“I’m not coming back,” Jason says instantly, cold and hard. Dick winces, just as sore as the day Jason’s still-battered body came back from Ethiopia.

He gets why Jason stepped away. But he wishes Jason was never forced to make the choice at all.

“Then why,” Steph’s saying, voice a little wobbly at the edges. “Does it even matter if I’m Robin?” Jason exhales shakily. Steph goes on. “Be honest. Is it because I’m a girl?”

“No, it’s not because you’re a girl,” Jason says. “Christ, Brown. It’s because—“ He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Steph, for once, seems to have the patience to hear him out. Dick’s gripping the edge of the cabinet waiting for his answer. Finally, Jason huffs and says, “Because I can’t help but I think they’re gonna end up picking you. And I’m gonna end up—back where I started.”

“What,” Steph says. “You think I’m not scared of the exact same thing?”

HIHIHI REVEK thank you for the ask!!!!

(pick a short passage i've written and stick it in my inbox for dvd commentary!!)

(also the fic i'm commentating on is here!!)

i think the jason and steph dynamic is so so deeply underrated. every time they show up in a comic being nice to each other and buddies i am incredibly overjoyed. i think they're very similar to each other, both in terms of background and overall outlook. i think they both can connect on the immediate level of being quote-unquote "failed" robins. i also think it's clear that while stephanie doesn't personally jive with jason's whole murder thing, she understands why he does it and what impact it can have and has a lot of sympathy for him, in general. jason, in turn, respects a lot of what steph's been through and is willing to listen to her when she tells him he's being a big dumb idiot. they're friends!! there's a lot they're equipped to understand about each other!! i could go on!!!!!!

HOWEVER. when two people are very similar, they can also clash very awfully. especially when they're in stressful situations, like jason trying to figure out who he is without robin and steph trying to figure who she is as robin. hence the fight to the death.

im putting this under a readmore bc i have the feeling i'm about to get even chattier lmaoooo

“—just weird for me,” Steph’s saying. “Like, I don’t even know why he picked me—“

and here we see the first hint of their complementary insecurities!! in part because of their background and in part because of their warped view of their own capabilities. neither of them believe robin is within their grasp. they both believe they have to constantly be reaching up.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jason says, sounding baffled. “Don’t get me wrong, Steph, you’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met, but you fight like hell. I mean, I got you in the head like three times and you never stayed down for more than a second.”

my only comments are one: steph would and two: i think it's very in-character for jason to be like you're annoying as hell and i hate you and everything you stand for. but i respect what you're about. game recognizes game.

“But I’m not his kid,” Steph says, very small. It’s times like these Dick remembers that she’s just thirteen. “You’re his kid.” Jason’s quiet for a second. Dick continues to pretend like he’s rustling through gauze. “Yeah, but if I’m not, you know. In the business anymore, then maybe he doesn’t—“ “That’s dumb,” Steph says plainly. “You’re so dumb. Ninety percent of patrol is what would Jason do.” She does a pretty good impression of Bruce’s voice too. “I’m just a placeholder until you decide to come back—“ “I’m not coming back,” Jason says instantly, cold and hard.

the first thing to note is that i've sort of gone back and forth on whether or not steph could hypothetically get actually adopted in this au. on the one hand, she's more or less taking over tim's role, so it's possible. on the other hand--and this is paraphrasing something @little-boats-on-a-lake said when i was infodumping to them about it--a lot of steph's character/tragedy is that she's not adopted. that she's always sort of on the outskirts. (just like jason!!) i haven't come to any firm conclusions re: the adoption thing, but either way, at this point steph would not consider herself a part of the wayne family disaster.

also, jason's ongoing insecurity about his role in the family now that he's not robin!! and steph's ongoing insecurity that she really is just a temporary replacement!!

Dick winces, just as sore as the day Jason’s still-battered body came back from Ethiopia. He gets why Jason stepped away. But he wishes Jason was never forced to make the choice at all.

the guilt dick carries over the whole robin thing is crazy.

also, there's something about jason being so insecure about how he fits into his family without robin, but still somehow choosing to put himself and his health first. i think that's very brave of him.

“Then why,” Steph’s saying, voice a little wobbly at the edges. “Does it even matter if I’m Robin?” Jason exhales shakily. Steph goes on. “Be honest. Is it because I’m a girl?” “No, it’s not because you’re a girl,” Jason says.

lol. lmao.

Finally, Jason huffs and says, “Because I can’t help but I think they’re gonna end up picking you. And I’m gonna end up—back where I started.” “What,” Steph says. “You think I’m not scared of the exact same thing?”

complementary insecurities again!!! neither of them want to be left alone. neither of them wants to lose everything they've gained.

anyway!! i think this really clears the air for the both of them because 1.) they actually talked about their emotions and understood that they have a lot of the same problems and 2.) they beat the shit out of each other and worked a lot of the malicious energy out there. after this, i think they start getting along better and better, although they would literally rather die than admit it. beating the shit out of each other took care of the cain instincts, and now they can be normal, only mildly violent bickering siblings.

as for my vague plans for the rest of the au: my next fic for jay todd week is actually set here!! it's tim & jason centric, because this whole thing started with a semi-convoluted thought process that went jason lives after ethiopia and decides not to be robin->tim has no need to be robin because jason isn't dead->jason graduates high school right when he was supposed to->tim isn't distracted by bat nonsense, so he actually graduates high school early->they end up as roommates at college together. it's a whole disaster. and then somewhere in here i thought okay, so steph would be robin then and then i went lol. jason and steph would clash so fucking bad. and i love sibling-on-sibling violence and find it very funny, so the fic happened.

anyway, perhaps someday i will write the multi-chap fic chronicling jason & tim's four years at college together as awful, awful roommates. maybe i'll just keep on writing random, out-of-context one-shots. who is to say!!

my parting thought is that i fucking love the jason-steph dynamic. they are so goddamn important to me, and i think more people should do steph hanging out with jason and maybe even the outlaws because i think they would all have a really great time together and blow a lot of shit up

[chvrrymvstang]

on the run

synopsis - Din gets bumped into OR when Din lets curiosity get the best of him.

warnings: mentions of trafficking, mentions of a branding scar and mentions of weapons, but not them being used

word count: 461

another successful mission completed for the Mandalorian bounty hunter. an exhausted sigh escapes his lips as he trudges down the sandy street. the child, Grogu, is softly tucked into his carrier as he observes the world around him as children often do. Din couldn't wait to get back to the Razor Crest and relax.

that was until his shoulder was roughly bumped into. he groaned and watched the person run into an alleyway. thoughts swirl around his mind. "why are they in a rush?", "are they running from someone?", "should I follow them?" he asked himself. no. no, he should mind his business and get back to the ship. then, another thought entered his mind, "what if they need help?". he internally groaned and followed them into the alleyway silently.

he stayed back as he watched them climb a ladder onto a roof. before he could stop himself, he silently followed them up the ladder. he was caught off guard when he saw the stranger wielding a knife. "put the knife down," he says sternly.

"who are you?" the stranger asks frantically, pointing the weapon at him.

"i'm a bounty hunter. what are you running from?" he grumbles.

"traffickers. i- uh, i managed to escape from them. i just need to get off of this planet." they pant, being on the verge of tears.

once again, another internal war breaks out in his head. does he help them? sure, traffickers weren't uncommon, but they could also be lying. one part of him was screaming to help while the other side was screaming to not trust them, to just turn away and leave them. finally, he speaks up, "have you got anything to prove your slavery?". he knew it was a somewhat risky question, asking someone about their scarring past but hey, safety is comfort, right?

the stranger held out their wrist, three numbers marring their skin. he knew what it was, which ultimately proved that they weren't lying. he reluctantly sighs and gives in, "have you got any particular planet in mind or just somewhere away form here?" he asks.

"anywhere, please," they beg and sheath the knife. he looks into their eyes from underneath his helmet and sees their pain. he sees their desparation to get away from this planet and the painful memories it posesses.

"will Nevarro suffice?" he proposes. he was heading there anyway as it is the hiding planet for the remaining Mandalorians.

their face lit up, a relieved sigh escaping their lips, "yes. yes, that will be just fine."

he nods and gestures for them to follow him with a nod of his head. he silently prayed for them to not only be telling the truth, and also for them to at least be good company.

announcement: HELLO! i hope you all enjoy this lol. this is my first fic (on this blog anyway). i’m contemplating writing a part two to this but i want your opinions first! luv u all and i hope you’ve all had a wonderful New Year! (also, please excuse if anything isn’t correct in this (spelling and tv show wise. i’m currently still on season 1 lmaoooo) i have spell checked twice but i’m also oblivious sometimes.)

do not repost, copy or translate any of my works. reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated :)

[maccreadysbaby]

you like destiny 2? You????? Like destiny???

IF YOU LIKE IT SO MUCH PUT BENTLEY AND ASTEN IN IT 🔫🔫🔫

Oh MAN this is the whackiest crossover I've ever done and I'm STOKED about it... also there's a little synopsis of destiny under the cut for my bentley followers that have no clue what I'm on about. bentley and asten would not even be remotely similar in this au, therefore there's actually TWO little stories in this post, one for each of them... yeah I went a little overboard but ITS FINE IM HAVING FUN *unintelligible weeping*

Project: Killcode Drabbles

tw: destiny typical violence, gore, emeto, cursing (only in asten's)

wanna read the extended fic? here’s the table of contents!

⚠️ THIS IS NOT PART OF BENTLEY’S MAIN STORYLINE, THIS BENTLEY & ASTEN INSERTED INTO AN AU (ALTERNATE UNIVERSE.)

Hi! here’s the briefest of overviews for my Bentley peeps that have no clue what Destiny is:

(I’m sorry destiny is so detailed you can’t actually be brief about it, these are the things I think are fundamental for understanding these pieces)

Destiny is a first person shooter/space travel rpg set in a time when the world has collapsed and the remaining facets of humanity live largely in a city called The Last City on Earth. In order to protect humanity from (a lot of) invading alien forces, the Traveler (a giant floating ball that helped humanity stay alive during the bad times) released hundreds of thousands of small robots called Ghosts into the solar system — these Ghosts were to find one specific person among the dead, resurrect them as a Guardian, and give them the Traveler’s magic (called Light) so they could protect humanity. (Basically, the Traveler makes the Ghost, and the Ghost raises their specific Guardian from the dead and gives them epic superpowers in the forms of Fire powers (Solar Light), Electricity powers (Arc Light), and The Void powers (Void Light)). Ghosts can resurrect their Guardians every time they die, rendering them immortal, but the downside is that these individuals don’t remember any of their lives before they were raised as a Guardian and have to start completely anew. The only way a Guardian can die for good is if their Ghost dies as well.

There are three Classes of Guardians: Warlocks, Hunters, and Titans. Guardians don't get to choose which they are, and the nature of their powers are determined by which one they turn out to be.

In this work, Bentley is a Guardian (A warlock, specifically, while the other character featured in this is a Hunter named Crow). Bentley does not have guardian superpowers (yet)

Anyways, I'm rambling, but I hope I helped you understand this just a wee little bit! I don't even understand destiny fully tbh don't feel bad. Maybe it was enough to help you enjoy the story... lmaoooo I tried. 

Also here are some pictures of some of the things mentioned to help you imagine them...

<< aka me trying really hard to help you imagine this so you have a good time

Crow ↗︎ (aka the love of my life, also the only reason Asten and Bentley meet each other in this AU.)

A Ghost ↗︎ (little floating robot; bentley’s is named sevyn, crow’s is glint, asten doesn’t have one)

Fallen ↗︎ (aka the only alien race you see in these stories)

BENTLEY ↴

THE COSMODROME, OLD EARTH, SOL SYSTEM -- 7:48PM —

“FOR THE RECORD, I THOUGHT THIS WAS A HORRENDOUS IDEA,” 

Bentley sighed heavily, glaring over at the small robot that was hovering a few inches from his face. It was purple, fashioned from small floating segments with one glowing blue eye -- which was glaring right back at him with just about the most irritated look the little machine could muster.

“Because I didn't hear you the first five times, Sevyn,” Bentley mumbled. He was stationed with his back pressed flat against the surface of a large boulder, wedged on top of a layer of moss and mud, the stone wall of a cliffside ahead of him sandwiching him into the tight, damp space. 

He’d never seen Old Earth before, besides looking off the balconies of the Tower he'd spent his entire Risen life in — which, in hindsight, was not great preparation for teleporting himself directly there on a whim. Everything looked the same, but bigger, and more expansive up close. The whole place was also crawling with various species of alien... which was a bit of a jarring experience considering he’d never actually seen one before. (He definitely hadn’t expected to teleport to Old Earth just to appear face-to-face with a four-armed freak of nature Sevyn insisted was a Fallen; hence why Bentley was now hiding between a rock and a hard spot.)

“You do realize you’re not allowed out of the Tower, right? That the Commander is gonna have your head?” Bentley's Ghost questioned anxiously, his segments spinning freely around his eye in a twitchy kind of way that let him know he was pretty irritated. “You do realize that you don’t know how to harness the Light for battle, right? That you have no guns? That no one knows where you are to come save your excruciatingly impulsive person?”

Bentley, again, rolled his eyes, pressing the soles of his tall brown boots harder into the stone wall ahead, to better hide himself from the Fallen he could hear clicking and hissing in the distance.

“If I die, you revive me. I’ve got my savior right here,” Bentley muttered, reaching up and tapping on Sevyn's eye, looking to his left. The sun was setting over the sector of Old Earth he was in -- called the Cosmodrome, if he remembered correctly. Being stuck there at night would not be a fun experience in the slightest.

Sevyn sighed heavily, shaking his head — well, technically, shaking his whole small robot self. In a disapproving, head shaking way. “If the Commander says you can’t leave the Tower, then you probably shouldn’t leave the tower. Following Crow, of all people! He’s so reckless; you know how many times Glint had to revive him in his pursuit of that Fallen Captain on his Hunt last week? Twenty-five! In one day!”

Bentley rubbed his hands together — it was getting cold now that the sun was setting, and his fingerless gloves weren’t exactly designed to help with warmth as much as they were to look cool. “He’s on a patrol. Patrols aren’t dangerous. I just need to find him.”

“Patrols aren’t…?“ Seven made an exasperated sound, his segments twitching wildly. “I know you think it’s unfair that you have to stay in the tower, but you were resurrected at thirteen! The Commander isn’t gonna send a thirteen year old Guardian into battle! There are good reasons you don’t know how to wield the Light!”

“So what, he expects me to stay in the Tower for my entire immortal life just so he doesn’t look bad? I’m never gonna get any older,” Bentley huffed, zipping up his brown bomber jacket. “Crow said he was going to The Forgotten Shore, didn't he?”

Sevyn bobbed up and down anxiously, his blue eye flicking around the area in a practiced, mechanical way. “And there’s about three hundred Fallen signals between you and there. How do you expect to get there?”

The teenager shrugged, eyes tracing the stone cliffside covered in vine. “Sneak?”

“Sneak around the aliens that can turn invisible and have the hearing of a wolf. Why didn’t I think of that?” Sevyn deadpanned. “I’m just going to teleport you back home so you can go sit in the corner and think about what you did.”

“What? No!” Bentley argued, reaching out to grab at the floating robot, who dodged his hand readily. “Stop it! I can do it! And if I can’t you can revive me!”

“Or we can go home and I can talk to the Commander about field work,” 

Bentley made a humph noise. “He would never let me do field work. He thinks I’m five.”

“Technically speaking, you’re a few centuries younger than most Guardians,”

“Sevyn!”

“Just saying!”

Bentley sighed softly, daring to peek out of his hiding spot just enough to catch a glimpse of his surroundings. He’d managed to find himself in a small canyon of sorts, with a shallow creek running through it, illuminated gold by the sunlight that was bound to fade soon. Rocks and boulders jutted out of the sparsely grassed terrain, gracing him with just a little bit of cover to utilize against the Fallen he could see skittering around the rocky landscape.

The sight of them made him grimace. He’d never really seen an alien before — not up close, and definitely not alone. Their quartet of blue eyes were glowing in the dimming sunlight, lanky, strange bodies adorned with metal-bent armor and shreds of fabric organized into some semblance of clothing. They moved, some like people, some like apes, some like spiders. They weren't much larger than him, but they carried guns, and knives, and grenades, all situated on themselves and clasped tightly in the extra hands that sprouted from the sides of their bodies. Aliens with two arms were creepy enough; Bentley wasn’t sure why Fallen needed four.

He glanced around until his eyes lingered on another boulder, maybe four or five yards from his current one, close to the cliffside and large enough to render him hidden.

Sevyn made a mechanical beep. “Don’t even think about it.”

Bentley moved his legs, forcing himself to crouch in the small space. “Thinking about it.”

Sevyn, with an exasperated sigh, de-materialized himself, dispersing into atoms that fizzled into the air and disappeared, waiting to re-materialize again when his Guardian called for him.

Or, the more likely situation, when Bentley got himself killed and needed to be resurrected.

(Oh, well. Real Guardians were well versed with death. Some of them died like thirty times a day! Bentley had never died before — well, he had, obviously, but he didn’t remember that one. Since he was technically a Guardian, dying now that he had a Ghost didn’t matter all that much. It was what Guardians did! He’d just come back, like everyone always did. No big deal. It wasn’t like it would be scary, or terrifying, or horrific, or anything, if he just came back to life afterwards...)

With a small noise of effort, he propelled himself forward so quickly his boots left skid marks in the mud. He kept low, ran lightly, slipping from one place of cover to the next without making much of a peep at all.

Ducking into the shadows and pressing his back hard against the new rock he was hidden behind, he exhaled heavily. Beyond that boulder, there weren’t many more large enough to hide him — smaller stones and a few sparse trees, too young and thin to conceal him from view. The walls of the canyon curved up and above him, but they offered no protection, besides maybe darkening the cover of night that was approaching. Maybe if he waited until it was pitch black, he could slip past unseen. The Forgotten Shore was only on the other end of the canyon; surely he could make it.

If Crow was even still there come nightfall.

Bentley flinched when something clattered against the cliffside to his left with a shrill clang. Glancing over, he caught sight of something small, flashing. Suddenly, Sevyn's disembodied voice emanated from his immaterial state:

"Grenade!"

Fortunately for Bentley's appendages and organs, it was only a flashbang -- which still had to have been the absolute worst experience of his whole risen life. Before he could as much as flinch away, the thing had erupted with a BOOM! that left his ears ringing a pitch that threatened to split his skull, a blinding flash of light sending a ripple of searing pain through his eyeballs and into his brain. Everything went white.

The world seemed to move in slow motion as the piercing pitch screamed in his head, completely enabling him from thinking about anything else. He seemed to bring his hands up to his face at a snail's pace, scrubbing at his eyes as he was rendered temporarily, completely, terrifyingly blind.

"Eyes up, Guardian!" Sevyn called.

Bentley willed his eyes open just enough to be greeted by a bright white fog and the faint, dancing colors of stone and sunlight filtering through the blindness, if only a little. The faint colors of stone, sunlight, and some dark blob that was moving right toward him.

He wasn't sure what kind of sound he made, but he was sure it was embarrassing as he all but threw himself out from behind the boulder, still vigorously rubbing at his eyes with one hand, scrambling away from what he assumed was an alien with the rest of his strength. A loud crack! echoed from beside him, and he flinched, though he couldn't see what it was.

He continued to scramble until the effects of the grenade faded enough for him to decipher that yes; the thing chasing him was a four-armed alien with glowing blue eyes and...

Four knives?!

He rolled to the side just quick enough to miss the Fallen when it jumped, all four knives sinking into the dirt where he had been with four bone-chilling shinks!

Bentley must've kicked up dust with the speed he forced himself off of the ground, eyes flicking around wildly -- in addition to the one with the knives, there had to be at least ten more Fallen closing in on him. There were two wielding a quartet of knives just like the first -- and two with nothing, but they seemed hungry for blood all the same, like they were ready to physically bludgeon him to death. The rest of them seemed to have homemade guns of various shapes and sizes -- guns Bentley wasn't very keen on examining any closer than he already was.

The alien with the knives lurched again, and one of the weaponless ones dove straight for his legs, both of which he managed to dodge by tumbling ungracefully backwards -- hitting the ground and forcing himself up again, fast. A blue laser flickered in his still foggy eyes, and he jerked to the left, a long trail of blue electricity shooting past his head with an audible zing! from one of their rifles.

"Oh my God!" He managed to squeak as he ran full-speed, hurrying back to the first boulder and jumping behind it with a thump. Strings of lightning and other identifiable projectiles from their guns barraged the ground next to his cover so vigorously the electricity made his hair stand up.

"Sevyn, what do I do?!" He practically begged, the dull sounds of ammunition and electricity against stone and dirt finally warding off the ever-present ringing from his ears. His chest was heaving, heart pounding in his chest -- how did Guardians do battle every day?

"Run!" Was his Ghost's panicked reply.

So Bentley did, and just in time, too -- all three of the fallen with the knives, and one with nothing, came crawling and leaping over the boulder just as he moved away from it, banging their blades and fists against solid stone.

Bentley's boots pounded on the mud as he fled as quickly as his body could manage, blitzing past his second cover-boulder and continuing full-speed deeper into the canyon, toward where Crow said he'd be. It couldn't be that far. It couldn't.

The cracks and zips and bams of projectiles shooting past him were nearly deafening, a few of them close enough to take the hair off his head. One lucky wire of electricity hit it's mark, leaving a graze of searing agony streaking across his left shoulder and tearing the fabric of his jacket away.

Bentley's response was a shrill: "Ah!" That bounced along the walls of the canyon, and bringing his hand up to touch the would only made it explode into an even worse pain. He bit his lip, hard, and forced himself on as fast as his legs could pump, farther from the way he'd come, deeper into uncharted territory.

It took about thirty seconds of running for his surroundings to quiet, for him to slow to more of a jog. His wound was already throbbing uncomfortably, and the leather of his jacket was singed and curled up there -- the whole thing was unbearably nasty and the longer he looked at it, the more he thought he might pass out. He searched for cover but there wasn't any; only a few young trees, the creek, and rocks too small to hide him. Surely the Fallen were chasing him -- he needed some kind of plan.

He didn't get any longer to think about it -- something he hadn't seen nor heard grabbed his ankles mid-jog and sent him hurling face-first into the mud. His head hit with a slam that threatened to leave him disoriented, but he couldn't afford to be disoriented right then. Instead, he flipped himself over on the ground, and a Fallen appeared out of thin air, shrieking indecipherably in his face.

(He'd forgotten Sevyn said they could turn invisible.)

"Ah!" He cried out in terror, writhing under the alien that was looming over top of him, straddling his lower-body with all six of its appendages. In a panic, he wrenched his left foot out of one of its hands and used every available ounce of strength to kick it directly in the head with the heel of his boot. It shrieked again, releasing his other ankle. Bentley scrambled back and off the ground, taking off again with nothing but sheer panic coursing through his veins.

His first instinct was to scream: "Crow!" As if the far-off Guardian would be able to hear him all the way from the beach. Yelling was a horrible idea, yes, but he didn't seem to comprehend that at the time.

Nevertheless, he continued to pitifully shout: "Crow!" as he weaved through the darkening canyon, searching for cover but getting repetitively let down. Tears were burning behind his eyes now, though not just from the pain of the gunshot. He could hear footsteps behind him, some skittering, some booming, and others thumping quickly just like his. He didn't dare turn around -- he might've died from horror.

"Sevyn -- Crow!" Was all he could manage at the speed he was moving, with the amount of terror that was coursing through his body. There was a mechanical beep that came from nowhere that let him know Sevyn was trying to contact Crow's Ghost, Glint. A moment later, the sound of a failed communication line returned.

Bentley sprinted, biting his tongue so hard the metallic taste of blood blossomed on in his mouth. The scuffling, screeching sounds of the Fallen continued behind him, the zing! of a rifle shooting past his head every so often. The canyon he was following veered hard to the right, so he did, too, hoping the new direction would provide him with cover.

He skidded to an ungraceful stop as soon as he took the turn, dread washing over him like a shockwave.

Right around the corner were three more Fallen. Not the ones that were chasing him, but bigger ones, with better armor, nicer clothes. They had the same lanky build, the quartet of arms, but they had to be at least two, maybe three Bentley's tall, carrying guns that were probably the size of his entire body.

Bentley stopped, heart ripping a hole in his ribcage, breathing so quickly he was starting to feel lightheaded. All three of the giant Fallen looked at him curiously, one of them stowing its gun on its back and pulling out two blades instead -- large ones, and curved, like katanas.

Bentley glanced back the direction he'd come, the smaller Fallen stumbling over themselves and falling over each other in pursuit of him. He couldn't get past them, there were too many -- but he couldn't get past the big ones, either... and the canyon left him nowhere else to run.

(He was going to die.)

In his moment of hesitation, one of the big aliens lunged forward and grabbed him by the ankle, picking him up and making him dangle completely upside down.

"No! Crow!" Bentley screamed, thrashing and writhing in its grip. He wasn't sure why, but the alien tilted its head at him like a confused dog before rearing back and throwing him -- yes, throwing him, probably ten yards before he hit the stone wall of the canyon with a slam! and crumpled to the dirt.

A terrible pain radiated through his body, the entire right side of his person stinging like fire from the impact.

“Sevyn…” Bentley mumbled, but he didn’t have any time to move — he was suddenly grabbed and flipped over violently, landing on his back with a harsh thump. One of the big Fallen was there — the one who’d pulled out the knives. The other two big ones were looming behind it like guards, and the little Fallen that had been chasing Bentley were skittering around and making noises, but they didn’t come near, like they were afraid of the larger ones.

Bentley attempted to scramble backwards on all fours, but the alien, with a few inhuman clicks and a tilt of its head, jumped on top of him and crouched there. Two of its hands found his shoulders, a third finding his forehead, all but drilling him into the dirt with such force that his right shoulder popped and cracked with a searing pain that made him cry out.

The Fallen’s glowing, beaty eyes seemed to bore into his skull as it held a knife in its free hand — the long, sort of katana looking weapon with machine parts at the hilt and coil wrapped around the blade. There were tiny bolts of electricity sparking and arcing around it.

(He was going to die.)

Bentley couldn’t see very good, and he quickly realized it was because he was starting to cry. “Crow!”

“Sh, sh, sh,” The Alien tutted, and Bentley writhed and thrashed under its weight when he realized they could talk. The thrashing didn’t do much good — the alien had to be nearly five times as heavy as him.

“Crow!” He tried, desperately — he could feel tears streaking down the sides of his face now, still obscuring his vision and blurring the image of the alien whose head was only about a foot from his. The Fallen pushed him harder into the ground, making his other shoulder crack and pop with a jolt of terrible pain.

His response, this time, was sobs.

“Now, now, little Light,” The Fallen started, its voice strange, like gurgling and clicking overlaid on top of a human voice. It was low, and gravely, too, like an old man who smoked too much. “It will hurt only for a moment, yes? I will aim directly for your heart, yes?”

Bentley writhed again when it reached down and simply tapped the blade of the knife on the left side of his jacket, right where his heart would be.

“Yes, I have had much practice,”

Bentley sobbed, trying to move, to escape, but failing miserably. “Sevyn…”

He didn’t want to die. He knew he could come right back to life, but he didn’t want that alien to sink its electric knife into his heart — he could only imagine what it felt like. An agony that wouldn’t even come close to any sensation he’d ever felt before.

How did other Guardian’s die every day?

With one last round of animalistic clicks, the Fallen lifted the knife far above Bentley’s chest, tilting its head again when the teenager tried one last time (and failed one last time) to wriggle out of its grip. He wasn’t strong enough — all the strength in his entire tiny body wasn’t strong enough.

“Please,” Bentley choked.

SHNNK.

It took Bentley about a whole five seconds to realize that there was not a knife in his chest.

Instead, there was a flash of something white.

Crow was suddenly on the large Fallen’s shoulders, his combat knife buried deep into the alien’s skull. Bentley had never been happier to see his blue skin and bright, cheesy armor. He didn't think he'd ever been happier to see a human shaped creature in his life.

The alien’s grip on Bentley’s body loosened, and Crow leaped off of it, kicking it to the side so its massive weight didn’t crash down on top of either of them. He landed a perfectly executed flip, his Hunter cape settling over his head and face so he had to shove it off.

“Bentley,” He scolded, though Bentley didn’t really hear it. He was too focused on staring at the body of the Fallen that was now laying beside him, twitching menacingly but showing no further signs of life.

That thing had almost… almost…

All of the other Fallen, small and large alike, leaped into action, charging at the battle’s newest arrival with shrieks of rage for their dead friend. The zips and bams of their guns returned, and Bentley stayed low to the ground, the body of the dead Fallen large enough for him to use as measly cover.

Bentley watched in a silent sort of shock as a full-blown battle played out before his eyes. Crow dodged the Fallen’s projectiles with some kind of backwards summersault the child couldn’t even seem to comprehend, whipping Hawkmoon — the largest revolver Bentley had ever seen — out of a holster on his hip. He spun it around his fingers before he began repeatedly flicking the hammer, sending out eight back-to-back bam, bam, bams, each one resulting in a Fallen crumpling into an unmoving heap on the ground.

One of the large ones, now armed with a giant, electricity-sparking sword, swung for Crow’s head, which he ducked and slid away from just in time to not get decapitated. He dropped the cylinder from Hawkmoon and replaced it just as fast, turning and unleashing a lightning-fast stream of eight bullets into the monster’s chest. It roared, staggered, and hit the ground.

Its roar echoed and bounced through the canyon with a chillingly repetitive melody. Bentley watched in silence as Crow extended his hand, a ball of fire forming and spluttering in the air above his palm until he threw it right at the smaller Fallen that were attacking as a group — it exploded into a huge wall of flame that charred and burned the aliens into lifeless crisps on impact.

“Eyes up!”

Bentley looked up, coming face-to-face with Sevyn, who was hovering right in front of him. The little Ghost’s segments spun and twitched worriedly, his robotic eye flicking about Bentley’s form with a little bit of pity in its mechanical iris. “I’ve got you, Guardian.”

Sevyn then moved toward Bentley’s left shoulder, a small spray of light shining from his eye onto the teenager’s wounds that almost felt like a layer of cold mist. Bentley couldn’t help but sigh in relief as the pain was warded away, the Ghost’s Light slowly rebuilding and reattaching the very atoms of his flesh — closing up the gunshot wound and shifting his shoulders back into place in mere moments. The scratches and bruises he could already feel forming across his body from hitting the cliffside dulled in discomfort in seconds, until they disappeared entirely from existence.

In only a moment, Bentley was whole again.

Sevyn moved forward, tapping himself gently against Bentley’s forehead in an affectionate gesture, before fizzling into atoms again.

When Bentley looked up, all of the Fallen were dead, and Crow was standing in the midst of the corpses, revolver in one hand, his Ghost, Glint, hovering just above the other. The little crimson robot moved about the older Guardian, shining his healing light on his injuries and mending them in a blink. He disappeared into a fizzle of atoms right after.

Bentley exhaled shakily, bringing a dirty hand up to wipe and his still watering eyes. He scooted slowly away from the body of the Fallen he had been using for cover, cringing at the still sparking knife that was laying in the dirt not a foot from his boot -- the knife it was going to sink into his chest. Into his heart. He brought one hand up to his jacket and tugged at it, eyes unmoving.

It was only then that he noticed how badly his hands were still shaking — how hard his heart was pumping, how shallowly and quickly and shakily he was still breathing. He couldn’t really get much air into him at all. And he couldn't seem to stop crying.

Crow’s boots came to a stop in front of him. “What are you doing outside of the Tower?” He all but demanded.

Bentley opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, eyes locked solely on the alien corpse. After a few moments of that, Crow moved forward and hauled him off the ground, gently, setting him on his wobbly feet and checking him over for injuries. The older Guardian was speaking, but Bentley couldn’t really hear it, his eyes still lingering on the knife. The crack, crack, crack of the electric blade made him want to throw it off a cliff. He sniffed and hiccuped as softly as he could, bringing a hand up in an attempt to quiet it.

“Hey, focus on me, Little Light,”

Bentley blinked when Crow manually turned his head so their gazes met. He was taller than the teenager by maybe a foot, maybe more, his dazzling skin a pale blue that looked foreign next to Bentley’s pasty beige. He pushed some of his black and white hair back from his eyes, the glowing, orange orbs locking onto Bentley’s and staying there. He wasn’t sure how old Crow was — he looked to be in his early twenties, but for all the teenager knew, he could’ve been hundreds of years old. But however old he was, he was familiar -- and that was comforting enough.

Bentley broke their eye contact to look straight down at his own boots, rubbing at his eyes, pushing his red hair out of his face.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered.

With a sigh, Crow put his hand on the back of Bentley's head and tugged him into his chest. “You’re okay, kid.”

Bentley squeezed his eyes shut and kept his hands over his face, the sudden hug only seeming to make the crying worse. “That was so scary.”

“I know,”

There was a little whoosh that let Bentley know Sevyn had materialized by his side, and a second whoosh, which must’ve been Crow’s Ghost appearing, too.

"Let's get you out of here, yeah?" Sevyn's voice came, close to his head.

Before Bentley could respond, a low rumble shook the ground beneath their boots, the loud, menacing whir of an approaching ship piercing the air. Bentley pulled away from Crow to glance up to the sky — in not a millisecond, a large ship was hanging there, casting a huge, dark shadow over them. It looked almost primordial, cobbled together skillfully with metals and machines.

Bentley was no expert on alien things, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t a Guardian’s ship.

“Sevyn, get Bentley out of here. Now,” Crow demanded, pulling the shiny silver revolver from his hip and replacing the cylinder in one swift motion. Glint, his little crimson Ghost, spun and then disappeared in a fizzle of atoms.

Sevyn hovered up next to Bentley’s head, his purple segments spinning, emanating a few small beeping sounds. “I… I can’t. Something in that Fallen ship is jamming my signal! I’ve never felt anything like it before — like a solid wall between us and the Vanguard!”

“Splicers?” Crow whispered. Bentley didn’t know what those were, and he decided he probably didn’t want to. Crow glanced back at him, reaching back and squeezing his shoulder. “Hide. And Sevyn; stay out of sight.”

Sevyn fizzled away, and Bentley quickly returned to the only cover in the area — behind the body of the big, dead Fallen.

Not a second after he was hidden, the bottom of the ship sprung open, and several mechanical arms came out of it. They each held an alien, and dropped them from the ship onto the ground before retracting and fetching another.

Bentley immediately noticed three things about this particular group of Fallen:

1) They were all the big kind, some even bigger than the dead one he was hiding behind. And their armor was nicer, cleaner, better. They dawned capes and hoods that looked like they could’ve been made by people instead of the rough looking outfits the little ones had been wearing. 

2) They all seemed to have some type of machinery on them, wether that be strange, glowing goggles over their blue eyes, backpacks that looked more like a giant radio with antennas, or literal limbs replaced by robotic parts. He wasn’t sure why, but they were more off-putting than the normal Fallen.

And 3) Their weapons looked better, more powerful, though there were more knives and swords and less guns — only three with guns, really; and they all seemed really angry.

There were probably two dozen of them, and only one Crow. The ship whirred and shot off, disappearing into the sky beyond, leaving its warriors behind.

Even starkly outnumbered by aliens twice and three times his size, Crow didn’t hesitate to leap into action. One of the Fallen shot at him with a big, strange rifle — a glowing orange projectile that whirred and made weird noises. Crow dodged it by sliding directly at the alien's feet, coming back up and swiping at the hammer of Hawkmoon, sending three methodical shots into the Fallen — chest, throat, head. It hit the ground.

Bentley stayed crouched behind the corpse as low as he could, and Sevyn’s disembodied voice came from nowhere: “As soon as I get a stable connection, I’m sending you anywhere but here!”

“We’re just going to leave him?” Bentley whispered, watching Crow dodge another electric knife-sword-thing and slide between a huge Fallen’s legs, popping up behind him and jerking on its cape with his full weight. It’s back arched, sending its head down to Crow’s level, and he sent two bullets into it. Its body made a thump.

“He’d appreciate the sentiment, Guardian, but given the fact that you have zero training or abilities to fight with, staying is… well, kind of stupid,”

Bentley said nothing, but watched Crow do another chest-neck-head trio of shots, dropping his cylinder and replacing it with another while dodging a blade with some kind of flip-spin-thing. Three huge Fallen down, twenty-ish to go.

“I’m reading the Tower! It’s faint, but it’s there! Probably only a few more minutes before I can get you there!” Sevyn announced.

Crow released more rounds and dropped two more Fallen, dodging strange orange projectiles and blades like he was nothing more than a shadow. The aliens, big and strong as they were, seemed to be no match for an agile Hunter like him. 

(Bentley wished the Commander would let him learn how to fight like that.)

As if on queue with Bentley’s thoughts, Crow got struck in the shoulder by one of the strange orange projectiles with a ding! sound against his armor. There was no blood, and he didn't seem to be in pain. There was a tiny metal machine stuck to him instead, and orange electricity suddenly exploded out of it with a loud, crackling vengeance.

Bentley heard him cry out, collapsing and convulsing when the electricity pulsed through his body. The nearest Fallen grabbed him by the cloak and lifted him as though he were weightless, slinging him into a nearby cliff with a crack.

Bentley flinched, but before he could even move, Sevyn announced: “Don’t you dare get yourself seen! I mean it, Guardian!”

Crow’s Ghost began to materialize next to him, but he must’ve told him not to, because he waved his hand and the robot never fully appeared. The group of up-teen massive, scary Fallen were crowding where he laid, and like he was being tortured, Bentley had a line of sight directly between the aliens. Directly to Crow.

(He’d never seen another Guardian — or anyone — die before. Did he even want to watch?)

Sevyn answered that for him. “Don’t look, Guardian.”

Bentley couldn't look away.

Instead, he watched Crow flick his hand, summoning three sparks of fire that turned into flaming knives that he launched into the two nearest Fallen. One of the aliens caught two of the fiery blades in the face, stumbling back with a terrible screech. The other blade lodged in another Fallen’s throat; it went limp on impact.

The other seventeen closed in on Crow like a swarm of vultures.

Bentley saw him lift his hand up toward the sky like some sort of last stand — reaching for the final beams of fading sunlight. The Traveler was up there, too, the huge, white orb hovering over the planet like a second moon. Bentley wondered if it ever responded to Guardians… after all, it was what gave them their power, their Ghosts.

Bentley’s eyes drifted back down to Crow, whose hand was still outstretched — and the fleeting beams of sun came down to meet him.

With a loud whoosh and a flash of light, Crow’s entire body was engulfed in Solar Light, setting him on fire from the crown of his head to the soles of his boots without as much as singing his armor. In his outstretched hand formed a pistol made of pure flame — a rapid fire revolver like the one he carried. 

Bentley flinched when the ablaze Hunter fired a fan of six shots into the crowd of Fallen with loud, almost deafening bangs, much much louder than Hawkmoon. The bullets, blazing with a fiery rage, incinerated the massive Fallen on impact and then continued to the ones behind, blowing fiery holes larger than a shotgun slug through their bodies and disintegrating them into piles of ash. A wave of heat washed over Bentley all the way from where he was, staring in shock and awe. Not an alien was left standing.

He’d never actually seen a Guardian do that before — channel all of their Light into a mega-magic-assault capable of destroying entire hordes of massive aliens. Vanguard slang called them supers, the most violent offense a Guardian could have in their arsenal — a final call to the Traveler’s magic for help, a last stand, an unleashing of all the power left within. The one Crow had just performed, Bentley had learned over the years, was referred to as The Golden Gun.

Crow then slumped back against the cliffside, the flames that had swallowed him fading, still convulsing and jerking thanks to the orange electricity coming from whatever little machine was stuck to him. Glint materialized next to him, frantically fluttering about, and Bentley shifted.

“Don’t! I’m still picking up Fallen signals inside the-“

Bentley ignored Sevyn’s orders and sprung to his feet, jogging across the now-empty canyon and little creek to Crow’s side.

“Crow!” He exclaimed, dropping to a crouch next to him. He eyed the little metal thing on Crow’s shoulder that was creating the electricity, and then he reached for it.

“Bentley, no!” Sevyn exclaimed, and Bentley cried out and flinched away when the strange electricity jumped to his hand, not only electrocuting him, but leaving his skin and muscles burning and tingling like he was holding his hand inside a extremely hot fire. 

Sevyn materialized next to him in a blink, shining his healing light on it, immediately cooling it and staving the pain. “Need I teach you not to touch strange alien electronics?”

Bentley glanced from Sevyn back to Crow, who was jerking and writhing on the dirt under the influence of the electricity. His features were contorted into an expression of agony, and Glint was floating about, lost, watching as though Crow's pain hurt him, too.

Bentley eyed the little metal machine on his shoulder again.

"Bentley..." Sevyn started, glancing between him and Crow. "If you're thinking-"

Before Sevyn could continue his likely long-winded protest of his Guardian's impulsiveness, Bentley moved as fast as he could, biting his tongue and shooting his hand forward, ripping the small machine from Crow's shoulder in a blink.

It felt like he got struck by lightning, and he couldn't help but shout in pain when the electricity seared and stabbed its way up his whole arm. He threw the little machine to the side as his muscles tensed and tightened under his skin in response to the electric pulse.

"Sevyn!" He managed, shaking out his arm like it would help; tears immediately springing in his eyes at the strange numb-veins-filled-with-lava feeling it left him with.

"Geez, stop taking after the reckless ones!" Sevyn all but scolded, moving toward Bentley's arm and shining his healing light there, too. In his peripheral, Bentley could see Glint doing the same, moving methodically about Crow's body, starting at the worst of it and moving on from there.

"Will he be okay?" Bentley asked softly as Sevyn finished healing his arm for the second time, the small robot hovering close by his head. Crow seemed practically unconscious -- though Bentley didn't blame him. He probably would've blacked out on the spot, had his entire body been electrocuted like that.

"Of course he will. It'll just take me a bit to patch him up. What were you doing out here, anyways?" Glint questioned, still floating about Crow's battered body. Bentley shrugged.

"Just wanted to... do something. Other than sitting in the Tower all day,"

Glint hummed in response. "Ye old person-isolated-against-their-will-breaks-out-and-nearly-dies act. I could have assumed. No hate, of course -- I'm not one to talk. Crow and I spent a long time living under someone else's will, too."

Bentley's eyes trailed down to the ground he was sitting on, and Sevyn bumped himself against his shoulder supportively. "Chin up, Guardian."

Suddenly, the ground shook again, and Bentley, along with the two Ghosts, glanced around the canyon.

A second ship just like the first swooped down toward them, and a horrendous amount of dread blossomed in Bentley's stomach at the sight of the bottom opening up, mechanical arms extending outward.

He inhaled shakily, shifting on the ground. "Glint?"

Crow's Ghost was now working frantically, beeping in a weird pattern that indicated anxiety. "I'm working as fast as I can!"

The robotic arms reached into the ship and came back out with more Fallen -- the same, massive ones whose bodies were littering the floor of the canyon. It dropped two with a thud, and two more after. They were all carrying the terrible electric blades -- all but one, who had a gun that resembled a sniper rifle whose barrel was glowing orange.

There was a whoosh of Sevyn disappearing. "Hide, Glint!" He said from nowhere.

Crow's Ghost kept working despite Sevyn's words, bathing his Guardian in Light. "I'm almost done!"

"If you get sniped, you could cost Crow his life!"

Bentley barely heard the two robots bickering -- instead, he watched in silence as the huge Fallen zeroed in on him and Crow, clicking back and forth like they were communicating. The ship sped off into the distance and left the four aliens there, alone, with Bentley and two panicking robots; and the only one there that could defend them was hardly conscious.

Bentley blinked, and stared at the aliens, the strange realization that he was actually about to die washing over him and leaving him feeling oddly cold. (Didn't getting revived after make it okay...? Why didn't it feel okay?)

The Fallen with the rifle lifted it and pulled the trigger, a beam of orange electricity arcing through the air right toward them -- though it didn't hit Bentley; It was aimed at Glint, who narrowly dodged it by ducking to the side. The beam cracked loudly against the cliffside behind them.

Bentley reached out and grabbed Crow's Ghost by his eye, getting him out of sight the one way he knew how -- by holding him behind his back.

"Whoa, kid!"

"Bentley!"

Bentley looked forward, and all four of the massive Fallen were staring at him.

(He was about to die.)

But the Fallen didn't rush to take him down, no -- the one with the gun even stowed it, pulling out blades instead. They moved forward at a slow, menacing crawl, clicking back and forth, eyes trained on Bentley like they were mocking him. He stepped backwards until the heel of his boot nudged Crow's leg.

"Tiny Guardian," One in the front said -- it's voice sounded vaguely female, raspy and layered. It swiped its blades across one another with a shnnnnk. "Thought Lightbearers were bigger, yes?"

Bentley said nothing as the four of them moved closer like animals stalking their prey, eyes bouncing between the four of them. Their glowing, empty eyes, creepy, lanky statures. Part of him wanted to run and never stop, but the thought of leaving Crow there vulnerable and in the open made him feel vaguely sick. The fact that he could be brought back to life wasn't good enough to make Bentley's feet move. Glint wiggled around in his hand, fighting against his grip, but he didn't dare let him go.

"The Great Machine makes bad choice, yes," One of the others replied, a lower baritone. Did they mean the Traveler? "Yes; tiny Lightbearer smells of fear. Fear of death. Tiny Lightbearer has not met her yet."

Her? Her as in death?

Bentley cleared his throat, and the four of them glanced back at him with their glowing eyes, curiously. "I'm... right here, you know. Gossiping is bad."

Sevyn made a strangled noise in his immaterial state, likely revolting against Bentley's audacity.

The one closest to him -- that sounded vaguely like a girl -- made a few clicks, coming closer. "Tiny Lightbearer speaks, yes. Has attitude. Reminds Avix of her own son."

Bentley flinched with a gasp when she sprung towards him on all-sixes, crawling across the ground and rising back up mere feet from him. He scrambled backwards until he thudded into the cliffside next to Crow's unconscious form, keeping Glint hidden behind his back.

The alien stood, and stared, tilting her head back and forth with a few clicks. Bentley could practically feel his heart trying to escape his chest.

"Tiny Lightbearer is... harmless, yes." She said, turning to the other three and clicking. Then she looked back at Bentley, holding out one of her three-fingered hands. "Give Avix Little Machine -- then run, yes?"

Bentley tightened his hold around Glint, exhaling shakily, staring at her hand. "Uh... n-no."

He gasped when the giant Fallen -- Avix -- moved forward, forcing him backwards until he was pinned between the cliffside and her, Glint pinned tightly behind him. She reached forward at the speed of a cobra's strike and grabbed his face with her giant, gross hand, squeezing lightly. Bentley let out a sound akin to a squeak, his other hand coming up in an attempt to bat her's away, a burn already threatening to surface behind his eyes.

"G... get off," He said, but it wasn't threatening in the slightest.

Avix kept getting closer, crouching down until her face was mere inches from his own, her glowing eyes staring right into his. The crackling of her electrified blade came from one of her other hands, and his eyes flicked to it momentarily.

"Look at me!" She shrieked deafeningly in his face, and Bentley couldn't help but jump out of his skin, forcing himself to lock gazes with her again. The burn behind his eyes got worse, and his vision started going watery -- he didn't want to die.

"Tiny Lightbearer cries, yes. Has not met death. Smells of much fear, yes, much fear," She stammered, shaking his face when he glanced at the blade again, forcing his eyes back on her. "Give Avix little machine -- Tiny Lightbearer will not meet her. Avix says so. Avix is leader, yes. Others will not kill what Avix does not kill."

Bentley glanced back at the other three Fallen, who were staying in the distance, weapons drawn, lurking here and there in the now almost pitch-black canyon.

The odd feeling of Glint de-materializing between his fingertips made something in Bentley relax.

Carefully, he lifted both of his hands to the giant alien, palms out and open, revealing that there was no robot there.

Avix jerked Bentley away from the wall to check behind him, and when there was nothing there, she made a loud, unidentifiable screech and shoved him into the stone with a thud so hard it seemed to rattle his bones and leave his head foggy. With a few clicks and hisses, she stalked her way back to the other three and turned on her heel.

“Tiny Lightbearer dies,” She growled, and the one behind her pulled out its rifle again. “His body comes with Avix, yes. I have plans for when Tiny Lightbearer rises. He will not disrespect Avix again, yes, yes.”

They were going to kill him? And then take him with them?

Bentley glanced at Crow, who was still unresponsive.

“Sevyn?”

“It’s now or never, Guardian! Channel the Traveler’s Light! Call on it! I’ll help you the best I can!” Sevyn exclaimed from nowhere.

“I can’t use the Light!” Bentley replied, and a wire of orange shot from the rifle, zinging right past his head, only narrowly missing thanks to a well-timed duck.

“Now would be a great time to learn!” Sevyn shouted. “Just imagine yourself destroying all these Fallen using the Light!”

With no other options, Bentley ducked behind one of the massive Fallen bodies and closed his eyes, hoping and praying the Traveler would help him.

“Feel the Light inside of you, Guardian. It is in you, whether you believe it is or not. You can do this,” Sevyn mumbled. Another zing! went past Bentley, and he flinched. “Focus — Concentrate. I have my eye on the Fallen.”

Bentley tried. How was he supposed to feel the Light now when he’d never felt it before? He’d heard stories — that most Guardians found their Light in times of dire trouble, and he was pretty sure getting kidnapped by aliens counted. 

“Tiny Lightbearer!” Avix’s enraged voice came, growing closer to him. “Hiding is futile when Avix knows where you are, yes!”

Bentley focused really hard on his own body, imagining the Light like Sevyn had said. How did other Guardians do this so easily, so fluidly?

“Tiny Lightbearer will make Avix good pet, yes! Fun to watch squirm!” She shouted, her voice drawing nearer and nearer.

Bentley suddenly felt… strange. Not in a bad way, though — strange like something simultaneously cold and boiling was pooling in his fingertips. Like something was moving through his veins, like gasoline -- cool, but also ready to explode. He peeled his eyes open to glance at his hands, and-

They were surging with bright, glowing Arc Light, white-blue bolts of electricity sparking from his fingertips and crackling across his skin, though it didn’t hurt. It felt like his whole being was buzzing, vibrating in anticipation. He felt… empowered.

“Now, Guardian!”

At Sevyn’s mark, Bentley stood up and turned, extending his electrified palms outward. An unknown, never-before-felt power surged inside of him. Electricity seemed to burst out of his entire body, crackling, striking, bolts of lightning crawling across his skin and cracking atop his clothes. It illuminated the entire canyon in the nighttime with a blinding, luminescent glow.

He felt his feet leave the ground. Avix and her three minions were not too far from where he was, now, blades and rifle drawn to attack.

Bentley cried out when power exploded from him, a solid beam of screaming electricity shooting from the palm of his right hand. It slammed directly into Avix’s chest, knocking her backwards maybe six or seven yards, boring a charred hole through her chest and disintegrating her entire body not a second after. Bentley made a sound of surprise as the smell of charred flesh and static electricity filled the air.

“Keep going, Guardian! You’re doing it!” Sevyn encouraged, sounding probably the giddiest he ever had. At his excitement, Bentley turned his sights to the other three Fallen, and the beam of electricity followed where he led. He raked it across the final trio of aliens and it blitzed right through them, severing their bodies in half before incinerating them completely.

As soon as the four Fallen were dead, Bentley’s power, as well as all his remaining strength, fled, and he fell a few feet before crashing hands-and-knees in the dirt. His whole body was still buzzing, his arms and legs tingling with the remnants of leftover power. Everything around him seemed to be swimming a little, sounds muffled and vision swirling around his head. He felt like he could go to bed and sleep for a year.

There were two little whooshes next to his face.

“You did it! You casted a super! Bentley, you’re a Warlock!” Sevyn all but screamed, hovering up close to his face, tapping himself gently on his forehead over and over. “You’re a Warlock! A Warlock!”

There was a small sound of Glint finishing his healing process, and Bentley heard Crow groan, sitting up a few yards to his right. 

“Ugh. That was unpleasant,”

“While you were down, Bentley casted a super! Chaos Reach!” Sevyn screamed at him. “He’s a Warlock, Crow, a Warlock!”

With a grunt of effort, Bentley pushed his vibrating body off of the ground and onto his feet, teetering a bit on reaching his full height. Black dots danced around in his vision, but didn’t fully take over -- like they were taunting him. He couldn’t even seem to process the words Sevyn was screaming right in his face.

In the blink of an eye, Crow had come up next to him, both Ghosts hovering by his side. 

“Yeah, he sure looks like he casted his first super,” Crow said with a snicker, and Bentley felt his gloved hand land on his left shoulder. He looked up at the older Guardian, but he couldn’t really focus on his pale blue face. 

“Yep, there you go,”

Bentley didn't even realize he’d fallen over until he was hoisted limply up into Crow’s arms, settled against the soft front of his cloak. 

“Mm… Sorry,” He hummed.

“Nah, you’re doing great to stay conscious at all. I passed flat out as soon as I came out of my first super. In the middle of a horde of Taken, no less,”

Bentley didn’t know anything about Taken besides the fact that they were aliens, but he also didn’t have the willpower to ask.

“I’ve gotcha, kid. Glint, Sevyn, to the Tower please,” Crow ordered.

“On it!”

Bentley’s world proceeded to fade to black, but his hearing remained just long enough for him to hear Crow inhale and exhale deeply.

“I'm so dead for this.”

Asten’s story is below ↴

IN GAME CHAOS REACH:

IN GAME GOLDEN GUN:

ASTEN ↴

THE OUTSKIRTS OF THE LAST CITY, OLD EARTH, SOL SYSTEM -- 6:16PM

--

YOU SEE, ASTEN WAS A TOUGH KID. Tougher than most. Growing up homeless on the outskirts of the Last City presented him with no shortage of things he had to endure in order to merely survive — muggings, beatings, high-stakes chases, a life of thievery, actually getting stabbed, twice, flashy guns waved in his face, really bad habits, and lots of time spent cursing his existence into the wind. He’d survived more things than he’d like to admit in all his sixteen years. Forcing himself to fight with a knife in his shoulder and still coming out on top, having a Guardian called on him and watching it's Ghost scramble to resurrect them nearly six times before they ever got close enough to put a hand on him. In his mind, he was invincible — or at least he could be, when he needed to.

That invincibility seemed to have fled on this particular day, because he’d woken up having apparently caught the Black Plague. It was hard to move, to think, to breathe, to see, to hear — he felt trashier than a full dumpster from the Fallen District, and given he’d managed a stab wound and cauterization with half as much suffering, he knew he’d be down for the count, and soon.

So, he soldiered through it in his incredibly Asten way, willing himself to fix it before it killed him. He forced his way to the nearest pharmacy, walked in circles around it for about an hour, almost passed out twice, before he was able to form some semblance of a plan within his muddied brain.

And of course, it had backfired. Now, he was in a fenced-off back-alley of The Last City that he often used as a hideout, with a small pack full of stolen medicine, an entire platoon of security searching for him, and about as much will to move as a blade of grass. (Running at full-speed for a solid ten minutes away from the pharmacy hadn’t been the most brilliant idea for a kid sporting a fever so high he could practically hear his brain frying.)

Any other night after stealing something big like a bag full of expensive medicine, he’d be watching his surroundings extra carefully — moving to different hideouts methodically until the initial search was over and security gave him room to breathe… but tonight he wasn’t. Tonight, he was barely hidden from view by various dumpsters and trash cans, curled up, shivering on the cool concrete. It was mostly quiet there, and he could hear the wind whistling through the city. The only things that accompanied him in the dark, gross alley was the trash, a chain-link fence, and the walls. That was all.

While the air was pleasantly cool for the other inhabitants of the city, for him, it was an icy cold that made his skin tingle. He was shivering despite his blackish-blue hair and first layer of clothes being drenched with sweat. The strong smells coming from several different establishments and sewers were only working to make his head hurt worse and his stomach turn unsettlingly. Which, for him, was strange. Usually, the very prospect of food would have him climbing through vents or breaking open windows if it meant he wouldn’t have to go hungry for another day, but right now, he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything other than disgust at the very thought.

The stars shone brightly above the Last City. He would usually be staring at them, watching them move with a nonchalant air about him, going from here to there and sending guards to the wrong places over and over again. But tonight, he didn’t really have the willpower to open his eyes. Right now, he didn’t even have the willpower to take any of the stolen medicine.

He winced as his head throbbed with a newer, sharper pain than it had all day, probably in response to pushing his body way farther than it should’ve been pushed. He coiled up tighter. He was really glad no one really traveled those alleys, because he must’ve looked more pitiful than a crippled puppy. His arms and legs were aching in a way that made him want to weep, feeling like they were tied to cinder blocks he had to drag around with him. His head felt like it was full of cotton, hazy and blurry and a feeling a little bit like it might explode, like it had too much of something in it. Every organ in his body was revolting its very existence, and he swore he’d rather have a knife in him again than feel like that.

He’d made doubly sure his trusty sniper-rifle was within grasp — an old thing, dropped by a guy in a fight long ago — which, naturally, had led to him clutching onto the faithful firearm like other kids would a stuffed animal. It was smushed against his torso, safety on, because he had his arms wrapped securely around himself as to not upset his body anymore. It wasn’t the best weapon for close quarters fighting like running from security in the city, but it was all he had. He was pretty good at hip firing the thing anyways — not that he was looking to blow anyone’s head off anytime soon.

Even when he was wholly convinced he was dying, vague thoughts still pestered his mind — like the fact that most security knew about this particular hideout, and that most security definitely knew what he looked like, blue hair and all. He would’ve ditched his clothes and hid his hair after a normal heist. Instead, he pressed his burning forehead into the cool concrete beneath him and grimaced.

He drifted in and out of consciousness for a while. Sleep seemed like it would be a sweet release from the terrible state his body was in, but he couldn’t actually seem to fall asleep. Not while he had to keep one eye open for security. When they got here, he’d run, he kept telling himself. Just five more minutes. When he heard them, he’d go.

Those five more minutes turned into an indecipherable amount of time loathing his existence on the ground before a pair of voices flitted down the alley and made his head hurt worse.

“Are you sure this is where they said he went? There’s nothing out here!” Said a small voice — quiet, and somewhat… robotic? “They said he’d been stealing for years, surely he'd have a better place to hide!”

“I’m pretty sure hiding somewhere unsuspecting is the point, Glint. Run a thermal scan,”

Asten immediately forced his heavy eyes open as a realization dawned on him — that the first voice had been too robotic to be a human’s, overlaid with something mechanical. The second, too calm, too unbothered to be a guard on the City outskirts where sketchy people lurked and bad things crept in the shadows.

This wasn’t a pair of security guards — this was a Ghost and a Guardian. 

They’d sicced a Lightbearer on him, again.

He felt his heart rate pick up as he pushed himself upright, the entire world spinning there for a few seconds before he was able to right himself. He fumbled for his bag and his rifle, forcing himself onto his feet only to careen into the alley wall thanks to the black dots dancing in his vision that had invited their friend violent vertigo to the party.

Last time they’d sent a Guardian out to pursue him, the Titan had been so brutal with his magical-superpowers and epic-hand-to-hand-skills that he didn’t let Asten breathe until he couldn’t move. Until he was beaten and battered and had lost enough blood that the huge Titan was able to drag him through the city streets by the collar of his jacket without a single sound falling from Asten’s lips except soft, nearly unidentifiable sobs. He’d been thirteen then. He wondered if all Guardians had a knack for torturing children who were just trying to live.

Something cold and mean blossomed in his chest when he realized that, in this state, he wouldn’t be able to survive a beating like that again.

Instead of deciding on something rational, like turning himself in, or simply begging for mercy and letting them know he was the sickest he’d ever been in his life, his first instinct was to grab a magazine from his belt and jam it into the bottom of his sniper rifle.

This Guardian was not going to touch him.

“I’m picking up a heat signature in the next alley,” Came the Ghost’s voice.

Once the vertigo had mostly subsided, Asten forced himself to move even though it made him feel like passing out and throwing up and maybe even dying on the spot. The chain-link fence on the opposite end of the alley would do little to keep the Guardian out, but maybe it’d give him just a little head-start. At this point, he’d take what he could get. He pushed himself out the back end of the alley, between the old buildings and the the city walls, and went to the left. Forced himself to move quickly and quietly even though it felt like torture, watching buildings pass as he went.

Once he reached a reasonable distance away, he turned back and shouldered his sniper rifle, sliding the lever with a click-click so it loaded a round. Bringing the sights up to his face, he let the reticle rest just on the mouth of the alley he’d left.

He wouldn’t feel bad for killing him. He wouldn’t. He’d just come right back to life… like Guardians always did. Better that Ghost have to work than Asten be reduced to a pretty little stain on the concrete. A pretty little stain on the concrete that didn’t have a Ghost to bring it back to life.

Not two seconds later, a Guardian broke the threshold of the alley — a Hunter, it looked like, for a long cape flowed behind his back. He looked strange, dawning white armor that sort of looked like scales, or feathers, maybe, with pale blue Awoken skin and no helmet. He had a large, shiny revolver in his hand that reflected light right in Asten’s eyes.

No helmet — a rookie mistake.

In one fluid, mechanical movement, his heart thumping wildly in his chest, Asten held his breath and took the shot.

BOOM!

Even though he was crouched, the recoil nearly knocked him over in his weak state, the boom leaving a piercing ring in his ears that threatened to crack his skull. The Guardian’s head exploded in a mist of red.

At the sight, Asten’s entire body twisted — his mind, his conscience, his morality, his guts — and his response in his sickly state was to gag. The ringing was still present in his ears, and he let the sniper rifle fall to brace one hand on the ground, staying crouched in the back-alley. Black dots came into his vision and danced around some more.

He let out a string of curses he barely heard, forcing his eyes back up to the body of the Hunter. His Ghost was hovering over him, glowing, its segments split wide open and spinning around a ball of bright Light.

Asten knew Ghost mannerisms well enough to know the Hunter was about to be resurrected. And he couldn’t be here when he was.

With that realization, he grabbed his rifle and forced himself onto his feet, again, still not hearing or seeing very well, his entire body screaming at him to stop. But he didn’t; instead, he forced himself forward and past a few more alleyways, only taking a right turn into one that he knew contained a fire escape. He fell into a wheezy, barky coughing fit that left him breathless and hardly able to stay upright; The only thing keeping him off the concrete at this point was pure adrenaline.

He reached for the medicine bag to make sure it was still on his shoulder, a terrible ache settling in his chest after the bout of coughing — a kind of soreness in his lungs that made even breathing painful. He wiped at his involuntarily watering eyes and pushed himself up the stairs of the fire escape, settling on the first platform and jerking on the lever of his sniper again, loading another round. The movement sent more pain streaking through his chest, and he coughed and coughed until he was seeing stars, felt unbearably hot, and thought his lungs might splat on the fire escape.

Luckily, they didn’t. Unluckily, the violent coughing made his lava-filled stomach churn, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before it demanded to have his undivided attention.

Despite the fact that his whole body felt like it might cave in on him, he crouched and lifted the rifle to his shoulder again, settling his eye on the scope. His arms proved too weak and shaky to hold it still, so he rested the barrel on the railing and aimed at the mouth of the alley. 

“-this way!” The Ghost’s voice echoed in his head. 

As soon as the white-clad Guardian rounded the corner, Asten wasted no time, a second shot from the sniper rifle ringing out and leaving an explosion of blood and another limp Guardian in it's wake. His Ghost appeared hovering over him — a little crimson robot with a worried air about him.

The recoil from the shot jolted Asten’s entire body. He saw stars again, heard nothing but ringing — a dagger of pain shot all the way through his torso, his shoulder, lungs, stomach, so sudden and sharp that it made him cry out. He reached for his thin jacket in an attempt to stave the pain — a terrible mistake, for his sniper rifle tipped over the railing and, even though he reached for it, his reflexes were botched. It dropped to the ground below with the telltale clatter of concrete on metal.

He looked up at the Ghost, the stars slowly fading from his vision; the little robot was staring at him. 

He stared back.

And it dawned on him — now it was a race.

The Ghost immediately turned back to its Guardian and opened up frantically, expelling a bright light. Asten, with all his senses shot, conscious from nothing more than mere spite, forced himself to stumble back down the metal stairs. He had to focus all of his remaining energy into his legs just to keep from face-planting. And then-

And then another round of ultra-violent coughing sprung forth from inside of him, completely halting him in his tracks. His chest rattled and constricted with a vengeance, putting him in so much pain he actually considered crying. He had to completely stop moving just to keep from hitting the ground, and the coughing continued and continued and continued until everything he’d eaten in the not-so-distant past was displayed on the ground for the Ghost and Guardian to see. He had to move for a wall to stay upright, bracing himself against it and taking a moment to breathe — a painful action that sounded more like horrific wheezing.

Thankfully, his outburst seemed to have distracted the Ghost, who was back in one piece and blinking at him in surprise. For a moment, he thought the little thing might even try and speak to him — instead, it turned and opened up again, to raise its Guardian.

Asten glanced at the sniper rifle laying about a dozen feet from him. Moving for it, reloading, aiming, all while hardly able to make his body obey in the first place would take too long — the Guardian would be awake by then.

So he lunged for the Ghost instead.

The little robot shouted: “Ah!” When he grabbed it by its eye, and in a blind moment of adrenaline, he fumbled around on the concrete until he found the Guardian’s dropped revolver, pressing the cold barrel against the Ghost’s center.

“Oh, not again!” The little thing pleaded, writhing in his hand. “Let me go! I’ll contact the Vanguard!” It threatened.

“And I’ll blow you to bits and leave your Guardian to rot,” Asten hissed. He sent a glance to the Hunter, though he didn’t look for very long since a portion of his head was missing thanks to a bullet he'd let fly. 

“Raise him,” He ordered at the Ghost.

“No!”

“Raise him!” He repeated, louder, though his voice was hoarse now, and his mouth tasted vile. Not that he had been very threatening in the first place. He pulled back the hammer of the revolver with a shrill click that echoed in the quiet alley.

“Okay, okay, okay!” The Ghost murmured, sighing heavily. It opened up, eye still held tightly in Asten’s hand, shining a bright light on its Guardian. For a split second, Asten’s hand that was engulfed in the light cooled off and he felt… okay.

And as soon as the Ghost closed and his Guardian sat up with a groan, Asten felt like a heaping pile of death again.

It took a few seconds for the Hunter to comprehend what was going on, his orange glowing eyes flicking around and then coming to rest on his Ghost.

“Crow…” The little robot begged, wiggling in Asten’s grip. Crow must’ve been the Guardian’s name, he guessed. 

The Hunter — Crow — popped off of the ground, reaching for his holster that had no gun. His glowing orange eyes flicked to said holster, to the revolver in Asten’s hand; to the sniper rifle on the ground behind him. 

“Hands up. You move, he dies,” Asten ordered. Crow obliged, lifting his gloved hands — though Asten knew he could blow him sky high with superpowers if he really wanted to. He just kinda hoped he… didn’t really want to. Or that he was threatening enough to dissuade him… maybe.

Crow and Asten stared at each other for a solid ten seconds, the former sending a glance to his Ghost. He shifted uncomfortably, like seeing the little robot — what had he called him earlier, Glint? —  in such a dire situation physically pained him. Asten knew the relationships between Guardians and Ghosts were insanely intimate, like having a part of their soul manifested in physical form to aid them.

That’s why he kept the barrel of the gun pressed firmly against Glint’s eye when he growled: “Leave me the hell alone.”

“Look, I… I know you're scared. And I wouldn’t have chased you like that if I knew you were just a kid-” Crow moved, maybe to step forward, maybe to reach for Asten, he wasn’t sure -- but he squeezed the Ghost’s eye hard enough to make the robot squeak out a pained sound. The noise all but glued Crow’s feet to the concrete below them, and he stretched his hands out, a desperate look on his face. “Please, let him go. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Bullshit,” Asten murmured. “I’ve been burned enough to know that's a half-assed lie. At least be more original.”

He tried to make it sound venomous, but given that the force he had to put into the words sent him into another moment of rough-sounding coughing, it probably came across more like an angry toddler. 

“All I was told was that I was chasing perp with over a hundred robberies and years of stealing under his belt. I didn’t realize you were…” Crow trailed off, really taking in Asten’s appearance for the first time. He was pretty sure he looked like death incarnate, given he felt like it. His hand that was holding the revolver was shaking from the effort, but he didn’t dare let it move from the Ghost’s eye. “Well, I’m guessing you didn’t raid that pharmacy just for fun.”

“Just get the hell out of here, superhero. Once you’re out of sight, and once you promise not to follow me or come after me again, I’ll let your little pet go,” Coming up with and forcing out words was starting to become way more of a task than it should’ve been, and Asten’s head started getting foggy, everything feeling a little bit… off. More off.

Crow watched him intently with his glowing eyes. “Maybe I shouldn’t leave you out here.”

“Like hell you’re taking me anywhere,” Asten hissed, the sudden, loud words sending a burst of pain through his head that made him wince, though he thought he hid it pretty well under a scowl. “You’re-”

A few quiet noises emanated from the robot, and Asten glanced over with an appalled expression when it shined a bright light up and down his face, like it was scanning him.

“What the f-”

“Internal temperature is one-hundred-four-point-five degrees,” Glint announced, as though he didn’t still have a gun pressed to his eye. “He’s very… well… he’s very unwell, Crow. He threw up on the ground right before you woke. Hardly-”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Asten forced out, gritting his teeth at the pain it sent rippling from his head, down his neck and into his chest. He coughed a few times, muffling them by keeping his mouth closed. His voice was completely and utterly gone when he rasped out: “I just want you to… leave.”

“Sent out to take medicine from a sick kid. Why do I get stuck with all these jobs?” Crow muttered, mostly to Glint, but also to himself. “Look, what’s your name?”

Asten scowled. “Not-stupid-enough-to-answer-that-McGee.”

Crow breathed in and out, visibly irritated, though he pushed it back and kept his composure, trying a different approach instead. “I know you feel like shit -- flu’s been going around the City like no one’s ever seen. Lots of people have been hospitalized. The Vanguard even has Guardians helping out in some of the medical establishments around.”

Asten didn’t reply -- because, what was he really supposed to say to that, anyways? Plus, he was starting to feel nauseous again, so he didn’t really want to open his mouth.

“I spent a long time doing… bad things just to keep myself alive. Worse than stealing someone's food or robbing a place,” Crow started, holding a hand out to him. “I know how hard it is to trust people, to trust Guardians… I spent the first while of my Risen life getting murdered by them over and over again. Like they were playing a game with me.”

Asten vaguely wondered why the other Guardians would murder one of their own, but he didn’t give it much thought. He couldn’t; not really. Not when he was focused solely on not hurling. “Go away. Please. I’ll let him go, just… leave.”

“I want to help you,” Crow tried, stepping closer, daring to edge his hand nearer. Part of Asten yearned for the idea of help. Of letting someone else make sure he didn’t die for once.

The rest of him was revolted at the proximity he was allowing the Guardian to gain on him.

“No,” He breathed, voice still squeaky and wheezy. “I don’t want your pity help. The last Guardian that talked to me like this dragged me through the city half-dead. Like I was some kind of trophy.”

“And I’m so sorry one of them treated you like that,” Crow apologized, and Asten searched his face for a lie; all he saw was dangerous, dangerous sincerity. Sincerity that made the teenager want to cave. “Please let me help you. I won’t let anyone hurt you. You won’t get in trouble. I promise.”

When had someone last spoken to him like that? He wasn’t sure anyone ever had. And every single expression, movement, mannerism led him to believe Crow was being wholly genuine. 

And it made him want to cave so damn bad. A Guardian, of all people.

“Asten,” He croaked.

Crow cocked a brow, his glowing eyes searching his face. “What?”

“My name,” He replied. Part of his conscience was kicking him over and over for giving him his real name -- the rest was whispering for him to give in.

“Asten,” Crow tried the name out, deciding it sounded about right. “How old are you?”

Well, since he was on a roll… “Sixteen.”

He heard Crow curse under his breath. 

“Listen... I’m sorry if I scared you, I really am. You’re an incredible shot,” He started, eyes scanning him repetitively, forcing this little, quick smile on his face. “Please, let me help you. You… don’t look so good.”

“One-hundred-four-point-seven,” Glint chimed in.

Asten just stood for a moment, staring at the Guardian ahead of him. His words bounced around and around in his head. Promises for help, that he wouldn’t get hurt, that he wouldn’t die from the plague. That he wouldn’t be in trouble and thrown into confinement again. It all sounded too good to be true, and most of him knew that. But there was a little voice in his head that was rejoicing because someone actually… cared. In all sixteen years, someone actually…

Oh, shit. All those fancy promises about help and rainbows and butterflies was starting to-

“No,” Asten tried once more, his already gone voice breaking slightly in the middle of the word. He wasn’t sure why, but his eyes began to water. He chose to believe it was the fever and delirium and the fact that he felt like death making it happen, but part of him knew that wasn’t really the case. “Just… stop. Go away.”

(He didn't say stop because he really wanted him to stop, though — he said stop because he was caving and he knew it.)

Pity rippled across Crow's features -- sadness. "If you really want me to, I will. But I don't think that's the case."

Asten said nothing, but bit the inside of his cheek hard, forcing the wetness in his eyes to subside. Of course, it didn't really work.

"Why are you crying?" Glint questioned innocently. His little robot voice was doing that same thing Crow's had -- going soft, quiet, gentle.

"I'm not crying, you little shithead," Asten snapped, blinking rapidly in an attempt to ward the tears off again.

Crow opened his mouth to speak, but with a sudden and violent intensity, Asten’s entire body seemed to go on strike; He threw up all over his own feet, his hands slipping from both the Ghost and the gun to slink around himself instead. The revolver clattered on the concrete and Glint whirred up to his Guardian’s side, turning to look back at him.

His leverage was gone.

That was about when he realized darkness was not only dancing in his vision, but threatening to take in entirely, his whole body going into a strange, numb feeling that Glint seemed to catch onto before it fully took over.

“Catch him, Crow!” The Ghost shouted, before Asten was even falling. 

But then he was — his legs gave out beneath him not a second later. Only, for the first time in his life, he didn’t hit the concrete — instead, Crow scooped him up like a small child, and he let him.

“Glint, take us to the Tower,” Crow ordered.

Oh, Asten was so going to die.

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere @skylathescholarly @beatyoutothatusernameloser

[nautilusgays]

Live reactions to Episode 2 of AMC's Nautilus

SPOILERS SPOILER SPOILERS SPOILERS

Oh the N rising out of the water is beautiful

Humility's massive skirt is pissing me off I'm having a viceral reaction to it - Oh yes it's getting ripped up - I think the fabric just looks like I would hate the texture

Ayyy it's going up

'Captain Crazy' lmao Ned Land would approve of that title.

Oh god that like cockney/sailor accent hurts

ANOTHER TWINK!? Oh god he's a brat 'algey boy' oh god no

Lmao they are literally giving Humility Aronnax-esq dialogue - except she's apparently lying?

'ah Mon dieu' just incase we forgot Benoir was French

'you are not going back to the underwater boat. Get back to the underwater boat' marvel called it wants it's dialogue back

Look I love a competent woman but ahhh her writinggggg

YES DOGGOOOOOOOOO

Nemo speach time - oh a threat instead of motivational - he's looking good in his rolled up sleeves and waistcoat tho.

Oh dreadnaught is back - more like Twinknahght there is three of them now!

Listen to the fucking captain you shareholder dickhead he actually knows how ships work (he's giving "and a (business) partnership was the only ship that he ever had seen" - a Gilbert and Sullivan lyric)

Oh! He knew Nemo??!

Oh god that comparison Humility babe - HUMILITY NO

'that will be none of your business' I love the way she did that slay

'its hope that brings people together'

Lmaoooo Lord Pitt is Humility's fiance??? Oh twink on twink violence.

Youngblood has some positive view of Nemo yas

Mate Pitt is weird af

HUMILITY! Her foot in mouth disease is real I kind of love it

Benoit sweetie! I love him. Also hope him and Humility have a cute father daughter-esq relationship.

I love submarines so much!

Oh this is adorable!

Him and Nemo are brainy besties I love it. "He has his reasons for being the way he is." Mate just give him some 2010s emo music and he'll be fine.

I love them messing with the kid so much omg it's so cute.

'hey concentrate' mate you put me in front of that window I will focus on nothing but the moving water and fish.

Aw Benoir is such a bleeding heart!

Nemo angst projected onto whales

Pfff dramatic waistcoat removal I love him.

Wait are those sperm whales??? (I don't think so but I can't tell lol - my bro is the marine biologist not me)

Wet cat Nemo fr fr - need a fic where Pierre sees him in a wet white shirt.

Damn Nemo savage!

"That was theft" why is that so funny to me

NOOO Humility baby imma hug you her sad puppy eyes

"they're made from whale bits" "the fish that made these are dead already" savage queen Imao

How tf did a mouse get on-board??

Horizon scanning is the favourite past time on the Nautilus.

"big boat with big big guns" that's how we should describe the dreadnaught from now on

Ugh competency is sexy - also I now realise why that the open waist coat and shirt combo is so sexy it's cause Nemo got that lesbian fit

UGH 'we better use our wits then' CUTE PATERNAL REASSURACE IS ALSO SEXY HES A GOOD DAD

Archie NO

Crawley mate don't fight the shareholder

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Oh stowaway?

"then the next stage of our journey maybe a spiritual one" NEMO NOT HELPFUL SWEETIE

Benoit and Humility make me happy (it's probably the daddy issues)

"how deep were they tested?" "50 fathoms" YOUNGBLOODS EXPREASION OMG - I love the plots of shareholders not understanding how science and engineering work and the people that do having to deal with it - I hate it in real life tho: looking at you RBMK Reactors and The Challenger! - I hope Crowley gets his commupence for not listening to experts and the actual competent people get to save the day (to make up for it not happening in real life)

This is so stressful

I like having the viewing port on top of the saloon window

Oh no a Brit

[mylittleredgirl]

finally, m*a*s*h update!

season four disc two! ("quo vadis, captain chandler" to "dear ma")

there is a LOT going on in the frank and margaret department

i kind of tipped my hand here when i posted about my new obsession, but even if you are not circling the drain on this doomed ship... the Unresolved Breakup Tension is fuckin WILD in this disc

she literally punches him in the face!!! how was that not a breakup!

but then he buys her something or does something to charm or impress her, and it works! then he blows it again!! rinse and repeat!!!! i am 👀🍿

sam and diane from cheers are still theeee platonic ideal of slap-slap-kiss but these clowns definitely walked so they could run

i literally jumped off the couch when his wife found out, aaaaa it's so juicy

I'M SORRY i realize this doesn't speak well of me as a person, but those long close-ups on her face as she voluntarily eavesdrops on him dismissing their relationship (twice!!) and her heart gets fully crushed??? i could eat popcorn to this all day.

this is the kind of dysfunctional relationship that my artist friends would choose in our youth so that we could Suffer and Make Art, so i really hope margaret is writing terrible poetry about it

anyway, we're peroxide-roots deep into GIRL WHY??!??

and then bj very gently explains to radar that well, see, frank and margaret both kinda suck and we're in the middle of nowhere, so they're all they've got

and i had to spend three or four days staring at the ceiling about it, because YEAH. it's not just that they're each other's only rank-appropriate source of star-spangled orgasms

(and they both care far more about military hierarchy than they do about marital fidelity)

but they are so consistently unkind to everyone around them that they have no other choice for any human connection full stop.

i'm not even talking about their ongoing bullying war with hawkeye and trapper or bj, because that's dirty pool on both sides, but i could count on one hand the number of times either of them have interacted with a subordinate nurse or enlisted man without threatening them. like they literally would not have anyone else to talk to.

but the reveal that she still wants to MARRY HIM? oh god. ohhhh honey. noooo.

that fake proposal prank was so genuinely mean. mostly because they ruined her hot date! 👏 let 👏 margaret 👏 fuck 👏 random 👏 dudes 👏

"isn't general barker the one who wanted you to spank him?" lmaoooo

OKAY i swear i can talk about other things:

hawkeye continues to just NOT pull without trapper here. the nurses are fully dismissing or ignoring his efforts, and honestly is he even trying that hard?? have we seen him get even one date?

i've been trying to come up with an "intricate rituals" joke about hawkeye and trapper but where the rituals are... girls. you get me.

i re-watched the pilot and the desk ep (for frank/margaret reasons DON'T JUDGE ME), and hawkeye and trapper LITERALLY end the pilot handcuffed together, and in the next episode talk about sharing a nurse. how am i supposed to take this???

speaking of nurses, you know that little 🙄 you have to ignore in 2024 whenever the women on m*a*s*h get called honey and sweetheart and baby on the job (though tbh i worked on a construction site and an ad sales office in the 2010's and got the same treatment -- but in the modern day it's done ironically babe)

BUT when potter calls margaret "good girl" after he gets shot??? total opposite feeling. i literally had to pause and take a moment. he's her dad now.

also when he tucks radar in???? everyone's dad actually

in loving memory of radar's other dad though, two important points:

how proud would henry have been of drunk & disorderly radar??

and henry's "i've always wondered if i might be radar's dad" bit is genuinely 900% funnier now that we know radar's mom looks EXACTLY like him.

i don't think i have ever circled back to talk about klinger, who became so so so awesome

it's so funny that in klinger's very first appearance and 30 times since then, he has been told straight up that wearing women's clothes will never work to get him out of the army. there's no explanation for his commitment to this particular form of passive resistance except that he genuinely loves it

the swamp rats built a still and klinger got a sewing machine and learned a craft. he's so good at it!! his looks are 🔥

i feel uncomfortable when i see him in fatigues tbh. it happened a few times in this disc and i would like it to Stop actually

also precious baby father mulcahey... Protect Him.

i LOVE that everyone showed up for his church service when the grand poobah chaplain was in town. they love each other!!! (also the life magazine jeep shoot!!!)

"quo vadis, captain chandler" was really good. i'm still over colonel flagg's whole deal but i now understand why everyone loves sidney freedman, and the guest actor they had playing not-jesus was incredible

bj continues to be the best little brother hawkeye could have asked for

also he maybe invented cpr?

i didn't say much about him here but I LOVE HIM and also his off-screen wife

forward and onward!!!

[scolopendramorsitans]

have you ever gotten bit by one of your (not medically significant) pets?

in my 9 years of invert keeping I've not had one single bite! I know it's going to happen eventually but so far so good 👍

edit: i've only ever had one close call and that was with a ceratogyrus marshalli aptly named Havoc. this was years ago. usually I'm super careful and don't have escapes when working on enclosures but she managed to outwit me on one occasion, climbed out of her tub lightning fast and ended up on my shoe. I saw her try to bite it just once, in like a striking motion. luckily I was wearing, well, shoes. :') would not have been a nice first bite to have. i pray it's not an old world T that ends up tagging me for my first bite whenever it happens lmaoooo. but the lesson learned after that is... i always wear shoes when in the animal room. you never know!

this was havoc btw. i miss her crazy ass

edit 2: unless you count this as a "bite" abshdfnjmk that shit HURTED!!!!!!!!

my snakes however.... yes I've been bitten by all three several times! my rosy boa is just very food driven and thinks my hands are food no matter what but he's so small it feels like Nothing. my royal python is a dummy and sometimes misses his food so just accidental bites. my rainbow boa has bitten me in the past defensively and food-ily. he's also bitten other people who don't know how to read him so I don't let any visitors to my house hold him. plus he might not look like he is but he is extremely strong and can leave bruises when he grips around my arm sometimes so anyone who doesn't know him might panic 🥴

[blistering-typhoons]

BBC SHERLOCK REWATCH - A STUDY IN PINK (REAL TIME NOTES)

From the perspective of someone who watched this show when they were thirteen, made it their whole personality and then stopped being a massive prat.

I thought about organizing this into a cohesive review, and maybe as I go on I'll delve deeper into some of my observations but for now I thought it would be funny to present my findings in raw, mostly unaltered form:

- loud ass opening, my god

- only bit of acting Martin freeman ever does lmao

- dances along to theme against my will

- god the effects and transitions are so shit

- all the shots of the pills are so ugly

- oh yay molly - whoo - yayyy

- the potential withe these two goddamn

- also this sherlock does not drink his respect women juice by god

- fucksake the deduction about john's sister- not only is it translated awfully into this modern setting, it's explicitly a deduction Sherlock is supposed to make once they know eachother a bit better

- THE POTENTIAL

- also sherlock displaying one insecurity when john accidentally insults his stuff- well done moftiss, characterization

- How far away is the crime scene, why it dark

- pls the transitions

- PIPE BOMB, WHOO Phone deductionnnn

- oh my god it's so shit

- uuuuuuuugggghhhh the potential I hate this shooooow

- fuckin deduction as a way for witty one liners and sexism, i hate this place

- 'you were thinking it's annoying' i'm going to send myself off a cliff, CRINGE

- RACHE- moffat, come here a sec- literally putting ACD on par with the police, who are always wrong the sheer audacity- also just a bad change

- these lens flare white lights are so goofy please, you will never be a whole scene of silence with jeremy brett

- benedict cumberbatch is very pretty i will grant

- terrorized by the fact i used to quote this show unironically

- from a writing point of view I understand that John gushing over Sherlock is to show off and emphasize their specialest boy- but, some sincerity is infused into it from an acting standpoint

- 30:02 GIRLIE WHAT IS THAT SOUND EFFECT

- OOH YAY THE PSYCHOPATH/SOCIOPATH STUFF WHOO YEAAAAH

- All the phones calling as john walks past is kinda cool but mostly stupid

- oh anthea, what a rich character lmao

- how long was mycroft posed like that

- First johnlock queerbait whooo

- Where does he fuck off to???

- he just vanishes lmaoooo

- Three patch problem. Bruh.

- I am bored as shit, help

- This music- girl

- Bloated is a very good word to describe some of these scenes

- HERE SHE IS- THE BIG DADDY OF QUEERBAITING

- this scene is insane fucKING INSANE I HATE THIS SHOW

- god how much episode is left fucksake

- the stop/go signs- pick a tone girl

- this episode is so almost good and it's anytime Sherlock makes a mistake lmao

- not the drugs bust :/

- ooh sociopath line- whoo

- "I don't have to [imagine]." OOOH OKAY, WELL, YOU GUYS GET *ONE* POINT FOR THAT SHEESH

- this is so ridiculous- COME WITH ME- girl shut up

- I wanna be done I wanna be doooone.

- lamenting the confrontation we had in the unaired pilot

- The 'Frwhoomp' noise as the light goes out, girl

- 20 Minutes left my christ

- BRO- I forgot that bit of ADR wooooof

- and thus begins the scree of Moriarty

- five years, why is Scotland Yard still doubtful of Sherlock's skills? I know he might have been deep in his addiction during some of that, but they evidently kept him around for crime solving.

- Great man/good man quote has me fumin babes, my god, what a fundamental misunderstanding of Sherlock Holmes

- boring ass back and forth

- this piano is giving me war flashbacks

- is it a five orange pips reference?

- also the pills look like that speckled gum that burns your throat

- when is it oveeer

- falling asleep

- bomb under the table but the table is made of glass and hates gay people

- she tooks the kidssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

- 13 min

- love, or rage, dude, come on Sherlock

- i hate this 'enjoying crime too much' theme they've written

- like watching a stupid play

- once more, the potential

- moriarty he said calmly

- also, so out of character for Sherlock do I even need to say

- peaks of what could have been- FUCK

- this mycroft fake out- lord

- also, mummy, fucksake

- cheesy ending BUT IT'S OVER

[bunni-v1]

Clarification for Age in my College AU

(Minor Spoilers for Chapter 6 when talking about Ortho)

If you've read my rules (which I know most of you haven't >:(, shame), you know that I mention that this account is functioning off a 'permanent college au'.

However, I don't exactly establish how large of a gap there is between the characters' current ages to their ages in my AU. I wanted to clear that up for everyone's comfort.

So I'm working on a four-year college system like we have here in America (Because I'm American, ofc 🦅🇺🇸 🦅🇺🇸 🦅🇺🇸). So, the first years would be freshmen, the second sophomores, the third juniors, and then the fourth are those briefly mentioned students doing work study.

So in my AU each character is aged up by three years. So, 16->19, 17->20 and so on. (Leona is 23 lmaoooo). Each character has a major/minor already predetermined for them, they all participate in different clubs, and I've even picked out some on/off campus Jobs they have. As well as changing campus rules about visitors and stuff just a little. If anyone wants more information about this stuff, just ask and I'll be happy to go into it. The only reason I won't go into it by myself is because it would be A LOT of pretty boring information IMO lol.

Anyway, the only exception to all of this is Ortho. We don't really have a cannon age for him. His real (once) living counterpart would be 16, making Ortho himself 19 like the rest of the first years, BUT Ortho is actually not the same age as that counterpart. He has memories from like... eleven years ago?

I'm not sure, but this is where my own headcannons come in for him. I personally view Ortho in-game to be one of those weirdo prodigy kids (I mean he's a robot so it makes sense) who gets to attend college young. I view him as maybe two or three years younger than the current first years, making him about 13/14. So with my age addition in this AU, he'd be around 16/17.

I'm fine with writing him, but because of these factors, I'm not willing to do ANYTHING nsfw AT ALL with Ortho. I'm hardly willing to do anything nsfw period, even though I allow it in the rules, because I know it is a very slippery slope, and If I don't handle it correctly I could easily make someone very uncomfortable and I want this to be a safe space for all!

So, very specifically with Ortho, nothing but romantic fluff.

Finally, for all my writings nsfw or not, I am going out of my way to treat these boys like they are older. I'm trying to show that they are more mature, well-learned, and experienced with life. I am not aging these characters up only to make smut with them, I am aging them up for everything, and I truly hope that my efforts shine through.

Thank you very much for reading, love you all and see you next post <3

[bakughosts]

hi eli!! i'm sorry in advance if i come across as too much, but i'm just so excited to see you active on here! i wanted to tell you that you're one of the writers i've always been excited to see post or update, and your fic, i like to call myself wound but i will answer to knife, is one of my absolute favorite bakugou fics!! i think i was just getting into bnha, and reading fic for it, when you posted it on ao3 and. the literal impact it had on me as a reader and eventual bakugou writer. major.

like—first of all. i love kiri bunches. so i really related to reader being in love with him lmaoooo. but reader and bakugou's dynamic? absolutely delicious. the way reader slowly falls for bakugou, the way bakugou is in love first, quietly, the way they bicker but come together, despite all of it... i could scream!!

and even beyond their relationship, the way you wrote reader's loneliness, her guilty feelings for kiri, her hurt seeing him and mina, her friends, together despite knowing she should be happy for them. ahhh. you write the complexity of these emotions so well. and i love the conversation she has with mina in chapter three. i've read fic where reader characters in similar situations, where they're meant to be friends with another character who's dating the person they have feelings for, express/feel jealousy so ugly, so cutting, that it makes you think--how could they be friends? but you wrote mina and reader in such a kind, generous way. it only reinforces the work you've done building reader's personality, her character. she cares for her friends. she doesn't want to hurt them, doesn't want to create rifts. it's what made her lose out on kiri, and it's what she let go of to be with bakugou.

“Kept me waiting long enough,” he says, and yeah. yeah. she did, in more ways than one. but he waited. 🥺 and bakugou's so soft in this fic. he's so. so!!! and that "what else do you love about me?" scene always gets me kicking my feet and giggling, blushing and heart skipping a beat 🥺🥺🥺💖

anyway—so sorry this is so long!!! i could say more but!! i'm sure this is already overwhelming!!!! i hope that you're doing well, that you're having a lovely week, and wishing you a weekend filled with rest and joy 💞

I know it has been forever since u sent this but omgggg this ask is one i come and reread when i am feeling underwhelmed by my writing…. Literally im so glad you like the Mina and reader part djjdjdjd and you’re RIGHT sometimes the jealousy in fics like this can be really cutting and like… severe. Which is honestly understandable!! Jealousy is an extremely difficult emotion to control and it can make you do some terrible things. But yeah i really wanted like… to show that they’re Best Friends like they wouldn’t want to hurt each other ever, even if that’s to the detriment of themselves. So I’m really glad that came across !!! Mina is so important to me and i miss writing her so much

Ugh there is so much in this ask that makes me feel so warm <3 thank u so much for reading and sending this in (even if i am responding super super late!!) i hope you are having a wonderful day and that u know how much it means to receive asks like this!!!!!!!! U r doing gods work……